#his first mistake was messing around with a white bitch to begin with but i digress | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

inkykeiji · 4 years ago

Text

break my heart in two, but when it heals it beats for you

character: zenin naoya

genre: smut + angst

notes: aaaaah this is my lil submission for the sewer’s soulmate syndrome collab (and my first collab ever waaah!!!) it’s a curseless soulmate AU with the tiniest hint of the zenin’s being a prominent crime family. please please heed the warnings!! | title credit: back to you by selena gomez

warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, incest (reader and naoya are half siblings), mentioned death of a family member (mother), naoya being his misogynistic self, excessive use of the word ‘Daddy’ to refer to their biological father, one (1) instance of physical abuse, size kink/size difference, mentioned relationship between a university student (reader) and their TA, infidelity, one (1) mention of Daddy being yakuza, age difference, spanking done by reader’s biological father, toxic relationships, minimal prep, rough sex, a hint of degradation

words: 9.5k

synopsis:

Except the torture doesn’t stop, even when you’re gone, because he’s assaulted with thoughts of you the very moment you leave—what you’re doing, who you’re with, if he plagues your mind as much as you plague his—you’re like a fucking sickness, a parasite that burrows deep between the folds and tissues of his brain, infecting it, and he’s hopeless to find a cure.

It’s a few days after his twenty-ninth birthday, the night you appear—unannounced, uninvited, and an absolute fucking mess—falling into his father’s arms the moment he opens the door, fingers curling in the material of his cashmere button up and tugging as powerful sobs rip through your entire body, violent tremors following.

It’s fucking disgusting, the way his father reacts. Naoya watches the entire thing unfold from the shadows of the living room, nose wrinkled in distaste, features twisted in aversion and saturated in abhorrence.

Because his father lets you cling to him like a child—a grown woman, gripping a seventy-one year old man like a sniveling little girl—as he manages to scoop you up into his arms, collapsing onto his favourite armchair with you in his lap, hushing you gently as he rocks you back and forth, large hands stroking your shuddering back as you nuzzle your puffy, snot-stained face into his chest, wailing out Daddy!

It’s the first time Naoya’s ever seen his father behave in such a way, revolt churning his stomach as he observes the quite frankly unfamiliar man in front of him. It makes him fucking sick to watch, acidic bile rising in his throat until it stings the back of his tongue, face souring as he swallows it back down.

And you can’t even manage to force words through your stuttering breathing and hiccupped little sobs, unable to explain the situation at all without being overwhelmed by another fresh wave of tears, crashing over your body as you fall back into the sanctuary of his father’s arms, face buried in his neck, now soiled with spit and salt water.

“Naoya,” his father calls, voice curt and stern and demanding, snapping Naoya’s gaze to his own in an instant. “A glass of water, please?”

Naoya scoffs, narrowing his eyes. “What the fuck do I look like to you? The help?”

And Naoya’s no stranger to the level gaze his father fixes him with, has seen that same look etched into his father’s face more times than he can count, eyebrows pinched and mouth pressed in a firm, fine line, chest rising as he inhales slowly, calmly, deeply, then exhales through flared nostrils.

“You look like a good big brother who’s on his way to get his baby sister some water,”

Ah, right, that’s who you are—the bastard, Daddy’s little mistake, an ugly, irreversible stain on their family’s prestigious name.

“That bitch is not my sister,” he grumbles as he stomps from the room and towards the kitchen to fetch you a drink, huffing under his breath about being treated like a fucking woman, yet obeying his father’s orders nonetheless.

It turns out, Naoya learns, that your mother has passed away, leaving his poor bastard of a baby sister all alone in the world, with nowhere to go—and you’ve come here to ask for shelter and food, just until you get on your feet.

It’s fucking pathetic, as far as Naoya’s concerned, shaking his head in condescending disbelief with a cruel snort. It’s almost difficult to believe that you, undoubtedly the family disgrace; you, with your dirty blood and the dishonour you haul around everywhere with you, have the balls to come crawling to his father begging for support. You’re an adult, for Christ’s sake, and you should act like one, should be out scouring the earth for some equally pathetic man to serve like you ought to, like you would have, if you knew your place. Maybe then, Naoya would have a shred of respect for you.

Maybe.

“How selfish. Daddy already pays for your tuition, why should he provide you with housing, too? Are you really that incompetent? Can’t do a thing for yourself, huh?”

Your head whips around to face him, almost as if you’re startled by his presence, by his voice addressing you directly, a sharp gasp falling from your lips the moment your eyes meet.

It’s the first time you’ve actually looked at him since you’ve arrived, the first time your gaze has connected with his, eyes bloodshot and gleaming as crystal tears stream down your cheeks, excess water clinging to spidery lashes, clumped together in spikes.

God, you’re beautiful.

It kicks him right in the motherfucking chest, hard enough that he stumbles back a few feet into the stone fireplace, a hand gripping the mantle for stability while his body caves in on itself. A spear of agony sears through his body, slicing clean through all of his vital organs as you choke out an apology punctuated with an honorific, head shaking in jerky little motions as your tongue struggles to form words to explain yourself.

And he’s never felt anything like it in his entire life, skin feeling as though it’s been set ablaze from the inside, thick black smoke filling is lungs as he wheezes on an inhale, strangled by it.

“Naoya,” his father snaps, eyes wide and scorching. “Leave.”

Each step away from the living room feels heavier than the last, as if his blood’s been replaced by lead, by rapidly drying concrete, rendering him incapable of lifting his feet from the floor, dragging them against the tile until it’s fucking painful, calves and thighs tingling as if the blood flow’s been entirely obstructed, muscles quivering and exhausted.

“It’s okay,” he can hear his father’s faint voice soothing you, each of your sniffles feeling like a sharp little thorn straight to his heart, each of your tiny I’m sorry’s carving out a vacant, phantom wound in his chest. “Shh, it’s alright, Daddy’s here, Daddy’s got you,”

“Pathetic,” Naoya spits to the empty hallway, though the word wavers, catching a little in his throat, letters scraping the gummy walls as he forces them from his mouth, leaving scalding little blisters in its wake.

It’s then that Naoya decides he hates you; standing motionless in the dark hallway, feet inexplicably bolted to the floor and chest burning with some unknown emotion, a fire that blazes and rages, flares and thrashes, with each of your hitched little apologies, his teeth clenched together so tightly he’s surprised they don’t crack.

But it’s only after your sobs have calmed, father having reduced them to soft sniffles and half-hiccups through tender words and sweet affirmations, only after Naoya knows that you’ll be staying here for the night—that you’ll be safe—that he regains control over his limbs, that he rips his cement-filled feet from the floor and trudges towards his bedroom, scalding inferno dulled to simmering coals and faint flickering cinders.

He doesn’t think about it—isn’t going to think about it, refuses to waste his time or energy on such absurdity, refuses to allow his father’s preposterous decisions and ridiculous sentiments soak up space in his consciousness.

And he absolutely refuses to think about is the way your sudden presence punched a sharp gasp from his chest, the way he suddenly feels incomplete, like something’s missing, now that you aren’t within arms-reach, the way that he lost control over his entire body for the first time in his fucking life, in that hallway, just a few moments ago.

✰ ✰ ✰

His father—your father—falls in love with you almost immediately; having only met you briefly a few times before this, despite sending your mother multiple cheques every month for over twenty years.

It’s truly deplorable, positively sickening to watch the way his eyes light up when you come skipping into the living room after your afternoon university classes, dropping a fat, almost obscene kiss to Daddy’s cheek before plopping down on his lap as you chatter on about your day—about what you learned in lecture today, about the essay you got back (top of your class, of course), about your cute TA with the white hair and crystal eyes who always seems to conjure a bashful expression the moment you mention his name.

Naoya watches the entire thing unfold day after day, a deep sneer etched into his face, jaw clenched so hard it begins to ache, light eyes glaring daggers in your direction.

Something akin to jealousy, a creature with glowing emerald eyes and gnashing teeth and razor claws that slash and tear at the pit of his belly, roars and rattles the ribs that keep it caged within his chest, gnawing on the bones every time his—your—father makes you giggle, your eyes sparkling with adoration as you gaze at him; every time lithe fingers brush hair back from your face or a large palm settles on the crown of you head, petting you gently; every time you nuzzle into his neck, curling up comfortably—perfectly—in Daddy’s big, strong arms that keep you protected from all of the bad, from all of the evils of this world, from him, the big brother that loathes you.

It’s unsettling, almost sad in a sense, seeing his father fall from grace, observing the way you decay his persona so quickly, eating away at it like corrosive acid, rotting him from the inside out; the way he morphs from one of the most powerful and feared Yakuza bosses into soft, sticky, sweet putty in your hands the moment you appear; the way your presence shatters his tough, hard exterior and renders him gentle and tender—gentler and tenderer than he’s ever behaved with Naoya or any of his older brothers.

He can’t fucking stand to watch it, despises every single thing about it, positively detests the inexplicable, uncontrollable sensations that thrash and thunder inside of him, an unusual mixture of envy and melancholy, of wrath and desire, combined to create something toxic, something hazardous, something uncontainable that erodes his senses and mind, leaking into his bloodstream and poisoning his thoughts.

Because his gaze stays glued to you the moment you enter a room, like he’s bewitched by you, cursed by you the way his father has become, unable to rip his eyes from your form until you exit.

Except the torture doesn’t stop, even when you’re gone, because he’s assaulted with thoughts of you the moment you leave—what you’re doing, who you’re with, if he plagues your mind as much as you plague his—you’re like a fucking sickness, a parasite that burrows deep between the folds and tissues of his brain, infecting it, and he’s hopeless to find a cure.

And the worst part, the worst part is that he hasn’t a clue why. He doesn’t know why he feels the way he does, why you evoke such strong emotions—emotions he’s never felt before, emotions he doesn’t have a name for—or why, suddenly, everything feels wrong, off, whenever you’re not around.

It’s fucking annoying. Those tiny, raised bumps on the inside of his wrist—shaped in the form of a zodiac constellation, a mark everyone is born with, a mark that supposedly hints at your soulmate—burn and tingle as he meditates on these notions, blunt nails scratching viciously at his skin.

✰ ✰ ✰

Daddy grants you permission to stay at the estate for as long as you’d like, because of course he does, a victim to the spell you’ve cast. He even gives you your own room, helps you pick out furniture and takes you shopping for new clothes. You promise to do your share around the house—pinky swear—and, to Naoya’s immense dissatisfaction, you don’t disappoint.

No. Instead, you excel.

Those pretty little words weren’t empty promises—you begin cooking all of the meals, taking on the task to do the dishes entirely by yourself, tending to the house and the garden outside, even going as far to aid the help in their daily cleaning routines, until Daddy tells you it isn’t necessary.

And you manage to capture almost everyone’s hearts through your deeds and duties, through your kind and compassionate nature, through your being attentive and, for the most part, obedient—but most important of all, being family oriented.

You do the laundry when it needs to be done. You keep the house spotless and the kitchen sparkling. You learn everyone’s favourite dishes and then dedicate hours upon hours to perfecting them.

Naoya observes you throughout it all, sharp eyes following your movements, watching as you expertly tend to everyone’s needs, almost as if you know what they’ll require before they do.

You’d be perfect wife material, if you weren’t his sister—he catches the thought as it drifts through his mind—a sentiment that’s almost involuntary, unthinking in nature— and strangles it with his bare hands, stomps on it until it’s nothing but dust.

Because what’s more infuriating than anything else is that you are a good woman, a perfect woman, a woman who—for the most part—understands her place and duty in the household; or, at least, you did, before Daddy began spoiling you rotten.

It earns you the nickname princess from your favourite nii-san, hissed through gritted teeth with narrowed eyes and scrunched up noses, drenched in condescension and sprinkled with artificial icing sugar—a nickname Daddy irritatingly and affectionately adopts, extracting all of the patronization Naoya had imbued it with and stuffing it full of love.

You aren’t invincible, though, no matter how precious you are, how sweet your voice becomes when you bat your eyelashes and fix a pout on your lips, how much Daddy is barely able to deny you.

Because Daddy’s incessant spoiling does eventually bite him in the ass, just like Naoya knew it would.

✰ ✰ ✰

“But Daddy,” you whine, wearing your prettiest pout and cutest puppy-dog eyes, lethal weapons that are nearly foolproof, your most cherished expressions that grant you almost everything you want. “It’ll just be for a little, I promise! Just a drink or two!”

“I said no—”

“But everyone’s going! Even my professors will be there; I’m expected to show up!” Voice rising in pitch, your arms cross over your chest as eyebrows knit deeply and a lip juts out further, looking about two seconds away from stomping your foot.

Naoya would be amused, really, to see a grown woman acting like a petulant fucking child over some inconsequential party being thrown by the department, if he didn’t feel like his heart was ripping itself to pieces with your teary expression and soft half-sniffles, with the knowledge that, if you attend, you’ll be with him.

“You have an exam tomorrow,” Daddy reminds you in a sigh, dipping his head to scrutinize you over the rim of his reading glasses. “Are they not all required to write the same exam as well?”

“Well, they are, but—”

“But they didn’t spend their study break out gallivanting with their TA, did they?”

Your eyes widen for a second, shocked by the words leaving your father’s mouth, but the expression is gone in an instant, morphed into incredulousness, eyes rolling as your tongue tuts in disbelief.

“Please, we were studying,”

The chuckle that escapes your father’s lips is anything but warm; it’s cruel and condescending, a sharp slap to the face, your bottom lip beginning to tremble as he snaps his book shut, the sound echoing throughout the living room.

“You must think me a real fool,” he’s almost snickering as he throws his glasses on the coffee table, grunting a little as he stands from his armchair and raises himself to his full height, towering over you. “Do you think Daddy’s stupid?”

“What? No, of course not—”

“Then why are you lying to him?”

“I-I’m not—”

“And you’re doing it again?”

Head shaking in jerky, quivering movements, your lips open and close, emitting nothing more but little squeaks of breath as you try to backtrack, managing to stammer out an apology.

“It’s a little late for that,” your father’s saying sternly, a large hand curling around your bicep as he yanks you towards him, beginning to haul you down the hall. “Good girls do not lie to their fathers,”

Naoya sits tense and coiled in his father’s armchair, a symphony of your cries mingled with harsh slaps of Daddy’s calloused palm against your smooth skin carrying throughout the house, and he swallows thickly, past the lump that’s lodged itself in the column of his throat, past the bitter acid rising in his chest, past the irregular thumping of his heart against his ribs.

Because he doesn’t know why your wails and squeals of Daddy! M’sorry! Daddy! make his cock throb and his chest ache—ache with longing, with want and desire, with jealousy—doesn’t know why he finds himself fucking his fist to those memories that same night, mind fixated on the quick glance he had caught through the sliver of the open door when he couldn’t stand it anymore, when he had to sneak down the hallway just to make sure everything was alright, images of you thrown over father’s knees, bare ass spanked raw materializing in his head.

Or maybe he does know. Maybe he refuses to admit it. Maybe he just pretends he doesn’t, because he wishes he didn’t.

Still, you always get off fucking easy, as far as Naoya’s concerned. He’s never witnessed his father allow any woman to talk back to him with such horrid disrespect, to whine and plead and roll their eyes without a backhand so heavy, so hard it knocks them to the floor.

And yet, you receive a few measly spanks to your ass—a punishment that’s more embarrassing than anything else, terribly unfit for a grown woman—and get sent to your room for the rest of the night.

“She truly is Daddy’s Little Girl,” his mother had snarled after one particular punishment, features curled up in an unattractive sneer.

Naoya can’t help but begrudgingly agree.

✰ ✰ ✰

“Oh, lighten up,” one of his brothers nudges his foot with the toe of his slipper before collapsing next to him one abnormally cold evening in early October, interrupting Naoya’s nightly routine of glaring at you, cuddled up into Daddy’s side as you watch a show. “Just because you aren’t Daddy’s favourite anymore doesn’t mean you have to skulk around looking like you just ate a whole lemon,”

“What’re you on about,” Naoya seethes through clenched teeth, glancing at his older brother through the corner of his eye.

“You know,” he responds airily with a knowing smirk, nodding his head in your direction. “She’s taken your place, huh? Or is that not what’s upsetting you?”

And that hurts—it hurts, because he used to be Daddy’s favourite, Daddy’s youngest—the baby—Daddy’s spoiled brat. He’s used to being the center of Daddy’s attention, used to being the object of his praise, used to being the golden child, the prized child, the destined son nurtured and conditioned to take over the Family Business once his father retires.

Light eyes roll back in his skull as he tsks in disapproval, shaking his head and clearing his throat to rid the tremble from his voice. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,”

“Mm, I think I know more than you believe,”

The words are spoken in a murmur, only loud enough for the two of them to hear, but Naoya’s gaze snaps back to his face immediately as he calls your name, gently pulling you from the hushed conversation you were having with Daddy, full of giggles and murmurs, nonchalantly asking, “When’s your birthday?”

No.

No, Naoya wants to hiss at his pathetic excuse of a brother, large hands curling into quivering fists, nails biting into the fleshy heels of his palms as teeth grit, forcefully swallowing back down the two letter refutation.

No-no-no-no-no, he doesn’t want to hear this. He doesn’t want to know, doesn’t need to know, throat constricting as you inhale to speak, chirpily responding.

Blood turns to thick ice in his veins when he hears your birth date, when he realizes those raised little bumps he was born with on the inside of his wrist match your zodiac sign. Heavy dread, black and poisonous and akin to thick disappointment, sinks in his chest, latching onto the floor of his stomach and spreading quickly, sticky as it engulfs all of his surrounding organs, coating them in acidic pollution.

He’s up and out of his seat before his brother has even finished asking you his next question, stumbling out of the room on unsteady legs, nearly tripping over his own ankles in his haste to get away from you, to escape.

He doesn’t want to know what the bumps on your inner wrist are, tells himself that it doesn’t matter, that he doesn’t care, that this is all bullshit anyway, century-old myths created by the dreamers and the sentimentalists. It isn’t like the prospect hadn’t already crossed his mind—drifting through a sick orgasmic haze after fucking his fist to the memory of you—the potential that you may be his ‘soulmate’, a cruel trick played on him by the gods. Except…

Except it isn’t real. It isn’t real. There’s no science backing it up, nothing to concretely prove that the zodiac constellation embedded in his skin has anything to do with his ‘soulmate’—or anyone else’s. It’s just a legend, an old wives tale made up for the romantics and nothing else.

In his alacrity to resist it, he turns fucking ruthless in his verbal assault, but nothing seems to deter you; it barely seems to phase you at all, carrying on your tasks or your cute little babbling as if he hadn’t just insulted you.

Because you’re incessant, almost desperate to gain his approval, continuing to treat him like a god—doing more for him than you do for anyone else, including Daddy—regardless of how many how many expletives and offensive sentiments he hurls at you.

And eventually, he goes a little too far.

✰ ✰ ✰

The night before Halloween is dark and dreary, thick grey clouds stuffed with rain that continuously drizzles over the estate, brutal winds whipping the tiny droplets against the windowpanes, tiny specks and splatters of water decorating the glass, rearranging themselves every time the wind throws another smattering of rain towards them.

You skip into the living room, full of bashful giggles and muted squeals as Daddy fawns over you, awestricken as he murmurs about how beautiful his princess looks.

His princess.

Naoya’s not quite sure what you’re supposed to be, nor does he care, tearing his gaze from your scantily clad form before his brain can even register what the costume is, before blood can rush to his cock, before he can witness the shy little smile on your lips and the pretty way your eyes glitter as you twirl for Daddy.

No, the only thing Naoya cares about is the fact that the dress of your costume is way too short to be considered decent, fluffy petticoat barely covering your ass, fanning out to reveal the edges of dainty pink lace clinging to the supple flesh of your ass as you twist and turn.

And he hasn’t a clue what you’re chattering on about, isn’t listening, can’t hear anything over the roar of blood rushing in his ears as he stands from his seat and stomps towards you, strong, callous voice cutting off your excited babbling as he glowers expectantly at his father.

“Jesus Christ, Daddy, you aren’t actually going to let her go out in that, are you?”

“Why?” you ask before your father can respond, genuinely confused, head tilting cutely. “What’s wrong with it?”

“What’s wrong with it?” he repeats incredulously, thick eyelashes fluttering as he blinks several times, eyebrows raising and huffing out a sarcastic laugh in disbelief. “Are you joking?”

Your head shakes slowly, a frown beginning to materialize on your lips as your eyebrows knit.

“It’s entirely inappropriate,” he scoffs, enunciating his words slowly, like you’re stupid.

You stare up at him cautiously, bottom lip jutting out in a pout so deep your chin puckers. “But nii-san, it’s Halloween—”

“Oh? And what are you going as, a slut?”

A little strangled gasp of Naoya-nii! hitches in your throat, your entire expression crumpling at his disapproval, hands running over the costume in an almost protective manner, smoothing it down.

“N-No, I’m—”

“I don’t care,” he hisses. “There’s no way you’re leaving the house in that—go change. Now.”

The direct order surprises you, shock saturating your features before resentment begins to bleed through. Blinking hard, you force the tears from your eyes, expression hardening and shoulders rolling back, spine straightening.

“No.”

“What did you just say to me?”

“Is there something wrong with your hearing? I said no,”

That sharp, self-assured smile drops from his face in an instant, face screwing up from such defiance, such disrespect. “Excuse me?”

Shivers skitter up your spine, tiny spikes of ice chasing them, but you refuse to back down, even though your voice is beginning to quiver.

“Y-You’re not Daddy! You don’t get to tell me what to do, I don’t care if you’re older!”

And just like that, the sharp smile is back, stretched abnormally wide across his lips—like it had been cut, carved, into his handsome face—uncanny and inhuman as his eyes glint with malevolence, words flowing from his mouth slowly, calmly, almost serenely, as he prowls towards you.

“You’re right—I’m not Daddy, because I would never let a woman speak to me the way he allows you to speak to him, you ungrateful little brat,”

A large hand, decorated with chunky, glittering gold rings, cuts through the air, striking you across the cheek with such force you stumble backwards from the impact, nearly tripping over your own feet only to have Daddy wrap a strong arm around your waist, catching you with ease and pulling you to his chest.

And it’s intense, so intense it kicks the breath right from your chest, barreling up your throat where you choke on it as it tangles with a sharp yelp. Hands fly to clutch your cheek immediately, throbbing thorns of pain shooting through the side of your face.

Daddy’s yelling, but it all sounds muddled, muffled, like your deep underwater and he’s shouting from above the surface, despite the fact that you’re clinging to him, pressed up so tightly against his side you can feel the vibrations of his voice in his body.

Naoya-nii isn’t saying anything, hand dropped limply to his side, pretty gold adorning his fingers coated in gleaming crimson. He isn’t even looking at Daddy—no, his gorgeous light eyes are focused on you, on the sticky scarlet leaking from the wounds his rings left when they collided with your cheek and the glistening tears shielding your eyes.

And for once, he has nothing to say, no sarcastic remarks or cynical little comments, voice evaporating in his throat as his chest burns, scathed with regret, remorse, repentance—all unwarranted, undeserved, unnecessary. Because—because you earned that slap for being so fucking disrespectful; you needed it, were practically begging him to put you back in your place, back where you belong: below him, behind him, and never beside him.

Because no matter how cute you are, how sweet and precious and good, none of it permits you to speak to him in such a manner, to act as though you’re equal.

So why has this inexplicable agony taken root at his core? Why does he feel like his heart is mutilating itself, tearing itself to shreds, with each of your pitiful little whimpers? Why does he feel the overwhelming urge to make it better, to make your pretty tears and precious sobs stop?

Inevitable anger surges through his veins—furious at you, for eliciting such bothersome emotions; furious at himself, for being so weak, so vulnerable, and allowing such pathetic sentiments to take over, to rob him of his control, of his autonomy.

And despite everything, all of his rage and loathing and confusion, his hand buzzes from it, from the sensation of touching your soft skin for the very first time, even in such a brutal and malicious manner, and instantly, he craves more.

✰ ✰ ✰

You don’t speak to him after that. You stop making his favourite meals, stop asking him about his day and then uninvitedly reciting your own in that cute, excited chatter that is so distinctly you, stop doing all of those extra little chores—washing his clothes and changing his sheets and scrubbing his bathroom until it sparkles. You put an end to everything.

And he fucking misses it.

He shouldn’t, but he does.

It’s painful to admit, but he can’t ignore it, notices your lack of presence almost immediately, that gaping void spreading, growing, as it roars in protest, claiming more and more of his body every day, like some sort of inky disease that only your presence seems to calm, to cure.

It fucking sucks. It fucking sucks, because he can’t stop it, regardless of how hard he tries, an impossible ailment he can’t void himself of. It fucking sucks, because you’re eating him up, consuming his very soul, devouring him from the inside out without even sparing him a goddamn glance—and you don’t even know it.

And it’s getting exhausting, putting up this front all the time, fighting against the intense feelings you swirl around in his chest, in his cock, without a hope, without a chance in hell. Fighting for nothing, because he knows he’ll never win. Fighting for nothing, because he isn’t sure he wants to anymore.

They’re unruly, voracious and rabid, tearing up his chest, his lungs and his heart and his throat, with sharp piercing claws and becoming increasingly difficult to overlook, to disregard.

Still, he’s too stubborn, too proud, to give in, to give up, even though the thing living inside him grows stronger every day, even though he knows that one day, it will overpower him.

✰ ✰ ✰

It’s windy—the estate quiet as the wind howls softly through the dense pines outside and ruffles them—the night it finally does, the night it takes over entirely, bursting through the barriers he keeps rebuilding and repairing around his soul and his sanity, writhing inside him when he hears soft sobs, muffled by the wood of your bedroom door, just past three in the morning.

It possesses him, like some sort of eternal spirit sinking deep into his bones and sewing itself into his soul, revoking his control over his body as a sudden, intense need to comfort you, to find out what’s wrong and make it all better, courses through his veins, entirely unaware of his actions as he pushes past the door and into your room.

“Naoya-nii?”

It’s the first time you’ve spoken to him, the first time you’ve even looked at him, since he struck you.

And he aches to apologize, I’m sorry’s and I shouldn’t have done that’s blistering his throat as they linger, just behind the back of his tongue.

But his pride outweighs them by a hair, despite how much his chest stings with the need to make things better, to make things right, for a reason unbeknownst to him. It’s just a sense—vague in meaning but strong in feeling—that longs for reconciliation, that’s desperate to rid your pretty face from the permanent scowl his presence etches into it.

That’s the first time he creeps into your room, the first time he loses his autonomy to the thing inside of him as he takes you into his arms and comforts you, the first time he allows you to cum from grinding on his cock.

Except it becomes a habit, an addiction, a nightly routine, cravings becoming stronger and stronger with each passing night. And for a brief span of time, it’s enough to appease the creature, the short nights spent with you in his arms, body trembling against his as you whimper out his name and his honorific, tangling on your tongue.

Because it feels right. It feels righter than anything in his life ever has, uncharacteristically gentle hands guiding your hips as they rock against his, soaked cunt gliding over the flannel of his pajama pants with ease as you huff out the prettiest little mewls into his neck.

It feels right only when he’s here with you, alone with you. Suddenly, it’s like everything makes sense again, like the world is in colour again, like the planet balanced again. He can no longer deny this feeling, this ache deep at the very pit of his soul that throbs and stings and burns mercilessly without your presence. You’re the only thing that can heal it, that can quell it, that can complete it.

So he gives in. It’s just for the nights, he promises himself, vows never to allow such sentiments to trickle into the daytime, to save it for when the sun sinks beneath the horizon, pledges never to permit these nightly escapades to advance from anything more than dry humping, nothing further than your cum on his fingers and your thighs stained with sticky cream.

But eventually, that isn’t enough, either.

And he was stupid to think it would be.

✰ ✰ ✰

The harsh slap of Testoni loafers against stone echoes out among the immaculately landscaped front yard, bouncing off thin tree trunks and being absorbed by tall, thick shrubs. Silver light, cast by the haloed moon hanging high in the clear navy sky, illuminates the garden, the foliage faded and washed out, painted by the moonbeams. Somewhere in the distance, the gentle trickle of water mingles with Naoya’s harsh breaths, cellphone gripped tightly in one fist as he paces back and forth like a rabid dog, small rocks popping under his feet.

It’s late. It’s too late—you were supposed to be home hours ago. Naoya’s tried calling—seven times, now, his phone buzzing in his palm to warn him of a low battery—but you haven’t picked up once. But that isn’t new, nor is it unusual; you rarely answer his calls while you’re out with Satoru.

So, really, this shouldn’t be cause for alarm. It shouldn’t.

Except he knows the man you’re out with, knows what you’re doing with him, and he can’t get it out of his fucking head, assaulted with fabricated images of you trapped under a large man with ivory hair and crystal eyes, back arching in ecstasy, his name leaving your lips in the prettiest gasps, in the way Naoya’s name leaves your lips during his habitual sneaking into your room in the middle of the night.

He’s terrified it’s going to drive him insane, eyes pricking and throat burning as his nose twitches with the threat of tears, eyelids shut so tightly his whole face scrunches up, tense and crumpled every time a new wave of contrived memories of you cumming all over that asshole’s cock crash over his mind.

Copper stings his tongue as sharp front teeth nibble at the raw cuticles surrounding his nailbed, face puckering at the taste and ripping his thumb, glistening with saliva, from his mouth.

This is pathetic, goddamn it! It shouldn’t even matter who you’re with and what you’re doing with them, shouldn’t be any of Naoya’s concern at all whether you’re safe or not, shouldn’t fucking hurt nearly as much as it does, a heavy ache that weighs on his chest more and more and more as each second ticks by, ribs caving in and splintering under the force, snapping into sharp spikes that puncture his lungs and make it painful to breathe.

“This is such a waste of fucking time, I don’t even—” he’s muttering to himself when you step out of Satoru’s car, his internal monologue beginning to leak from his head out his lips, your presence immediately cutting it off as his head snaps up, light eyes paler than normal, practically glowing in the moonlight.

A startled little whimper pries its way past your lips when you see him, stomping towards you with a heaving chest and a growl ripping from his throat.

“Where the fuck have you been?” he’s seething as a large hand seizes your arm, wrapping around your bicep and yanking, bring your face closer to his. “Huh? Do you know what fucking time it is?”

Frenzied eyes search your face, wild and erratic in their movements, sharply zeroing in on the tiny galaxies of swirling lilac and cobalt peppered with little pinpricks of scarlet that’ve been sucked into the flesh of your neck.

He chokes on something—a gasp or a snarl or a sob, maybe a mixture of all three, you aren’t entirely sure—pearly teeth gnashing together. “You’re a little slut,” he spits the word out like venom, harsh and biting as it whizzes past your cheek, slicing into your skin.

“That’s it, that’s all—that’s all you’re fucking good for,” his grip tightens with each word that flows from his mouth. “At least you’ve picked a rich man to sell your pussy to, at least you aren’t a total idiot, just like your mother, huh?”

“What is your problem?” little hands claw at the fingers latched around you, finally breaking free from him, ripping your limb from his grasp with such vigor you nearly fall on your ass, teetering backwards on unsteady feet. “You know, just because you can’t own up and face your feelings, doesn’t mean you get to take it out on me. This,” you gesture between the two of you. “Isn’t my fault.”

“This?” he spits, face screwing up in scorn. “There is no this,”

“Oh my God,” eyes rolling, you shake your head, exhaling a dubious laugh. “Shut up. There’s no one here—you can be real with me, I’m not gonna tell anyone,” you snark, arms crossing over your chest as you level your gaze with him.

He glares back at you, sharp jaw rhythmically clenching and unclenching with the grinding of his molars, large hands balled into tight, trembling fists on either side of his body.

“You know there’s something here, between us, within us, even if you refuse to admit it,” you continue after a beat of silence, voice softening.

His whole form is beginning to quiver and he jerkily shakes his head, exhaling harshly. You think he may be crying, but in the faint moonlight it’s hard to be sure.

Holding your wrist up, you swallow thickly, glancing at those little bumps embedded in your skin, watching the tiny shadows that form when your arm twists. “I have your sign,” your voice is quiet as you look back at him, flashing the inside of your wrist to him. “And I know you have mine,”

A cynical smirk spreads across his lips, but it looks more like a grimace, like a flimsy mask desperately attempting to cover something else, tongue tutting in disbelief. “Yeah, and there’s millions of people in this world with any given sign. It’s all bullshit—it could be anyone,”

“It could be anyone,” you agree, nodding. “But it isn’t.”

“You don’t know that!”

“I do! I know you feel it too! Christ, why are you so—so adamant on denying this, even when it’s just the two of us? What’s the point?”

“You’re my fucking sister, that’s the point. This is inappropriate, it’s wrong,”

“If it’s so wrong, then why do you sneak into my bedroom every night? Why do you let me cum on your fingers? Why do you fuck my thighs?” your footsteps speed up, jogging a little to catch up to him. “Huh? Huh? No answer? Or do you know the answer, and you’re too afraid to say it?”

“I don’t know!” he explodes, whirling around on you and trapping you against the brick, palms laid flat against the wall. “Alright? I don’t fucking know why I do those things. They make me feel sick afterwards, but I…”

But I can’t stop.

But I need you.

But I love you.

Chests heave with harsh exhales that mingle and echo in the garden, your eyes studying his face intently, in a way that makes him feel naked, exposed, makes him want to turn and hide from you.

“I’m not asking—” you start, words catching in your throat and blinking hard to clear rapidly welling tears from your eyes. Your voice is softer, more fragile and weak, when you speak again. “You don’t have to marry me, for Christ’s sake. I just—I just want you to—I need to know you feel it too,”

“Why?” he hisses, acidic envy bubbling in his chest, beginning to erode his resolve, walls crumbling to rubble. “What is there to know? You already have him,”

“But I’d rather have you,” the words materialize on your tongue before you even know what you’re saying, earnest eyes boring into his.

“God, don’t—” eyelids shut tightly, lithe fingers tangling in blonde hair and tugging. “Don’t say shit like that,”

He can feel them, those three little words thrashing in his chest, desperate to claw up his throat and spill from his lips, but he grits his teeth and swallows them back down, letters lodging and forming a painful lump.

And you notice. You notice, because you’ve studied him extensively, have learned to read him—his mannerisms, expressions, behaviours—well.

And you’ve just found his weakness.

“Do you want to know what I think of when he fucks me?” you ask, eyes searching his face in an almost frenzied manner, breath accelerating as you quickly push the words from your lips, worried if you don’t speak fast enough, if you don’t vocalize these sentiments now, you’ll lose him again. “It’s you. It’s always you. I’ve tried—I’ve tried to think of someone else, of anyone else, but you just…you just won’t leave my brain! It’s like a—a sickness, or something. Like a chronic illness, and it’s only getting worse,”

A strangled growl rattles in his chest as he tears himself away from you, fists violently rubbing at his eyes.

He knows. He knows, because he’s tried the same thing, attempted to desperately forget you, to disintegrate the weird feelings you endlessly evoke in his chest by losing himself in women night after night, often multiple women at once, drowning himself in their moans and gasps and soft bodies to no avail.

“There’s no cure,”

He doesn’t even mean to say it, words slipping from his lips unconsciously as he gets tangled in his thoughts, flipping through the countless memories of faceless women of all shapes and sizes, faceless woman that somehow always mange to morph into you.

“No,” you respond, shaking your head. “There isn’t. But at least I’m trying!”

He spins around, gleaming eyes flashing, brimming with bewilderment, features falling in surprise for just a moment before they harden again, varnished in offense.

“What’re you talking about,” he seethes, eyebrows furrowing deeply as his eyes narrow into sharp slits, scrutinizing, analyzing, dissecting.

“I-I’d rather have you, yes, and he’ll—no one will ever compare, will ever even come close to how much I—” you cut yourself off, swallowing the thought, then clearing your throat and beginning again. “At least I’m trying to find someone, though. At least I’m trying to find just a shred of what I feel for you, instead of sitting around feeling sorry for myself, alone and miserable,”

“Oh,” he laughs humorlessly, a callous little sound that viciously tears from his chest, that scrapes his throat and comes out strangled, full of incredulity. “You don’t think I’ve tried? You don’t think I’ve tried endlessly to forget you? To cleanse you from my mind? To move the fuck on from something that had never begun in the first place? You’ve imprinted yourself in the tissues of my fucking brain in a matter of months. It’s tiring. It’s hopeless,”

His voice breaks on the last word, some of the merciless heat fading from his features as he glares at you, eyes almost pleading for you to understand.

Because you’re the only one that can.

You’ve been in this together the entire time, right from the start, from the moment you walked through that front door.

And he’s been resisting it, fighting against it, against himself, all while the current only becomes stronger, only continues to grow in strength and size, and he’s motherfucking exhausted at this point, sick of battling some invisible force he was convinced didn’t even exist, sick of waging a war he will forever be destined to lose.

You’ve broken that wall, shattered it to dust, destroyed all of his weapons of defense and robbed him of his sovereignty, and now it’s all pouring form his mouth, an endless, uncontrollable stream of confessions, of thoughts and desires, of agony and misery.

“But it doesn’t even fucking matter, because I love you. I love you and I fucking hate you for it. And I’ve been trying, alright? I’ve tried not to, I’ve tried every single trick in the fucking book to stop it, to get over you, to forget you—and none of it has ever fucking worked, not even for a second. I don’t want you; I—I don’t want to be, but I’m in love with you,”

It looks as though your breathing has ceased, chest halting in its rapid movements, body gone still, static, stagnant. Your silence is deafening, has his ears ringing and his heart pounding, thrashing against his ribs as it aimlessly attempts to crawl through the cage, to present itself to you, bloody and beating and all yours. It’s all yours—take it, kill it, end its suffering.

“And there’s nothing—”

Surging forward, your lips crash into his, body following as it smacks against his own, effectively cutting him off. Naoya freezes, eyes wide and breathing stopped, entire body turned to ice, rigid and tense, but you are not deterred, arms winding around his neck as fingers thread through the gold and ink at the base of his skull.

“I love you, too,” you mumble into the kiss, refusing to break contact for even a second, lips brushing his as you speak. “I love you so much,”

The confession—an admission he already knew, deep down in his very bones, an admission he can no longer ignore, now that you’ve said it—snaps him out of his trance, and something switches, something breaks. Because then he’s kissing you back, tongue forcing its way through your lips to assault your own as calloused hands find purchase on your hips, squeezing your flesh hard enough that you yelp.

He chuckles against your lips, and then he’s pushing forward, forcing you to walk backwards, too fast for you to keep up, his legs longer than yours, body bigger than yours, stronger than yours.

Even with all of his shoving, you still aren’t moving quick enough for him, clumsy and stumbling over your own feet, whimpering hushed apologies into his mouth, a response to the growls that rumble in his chest each time you trip, your pitiful little sorry!’s consistently being cut off by his tongue.

Large hands hoist you up without breaking the kiss, mouth still attempting to devour you whole, to suck up your very soul, and your legs automatically wrap around his waist, latching onto him.

Either of your bedrooms are too far, and he can’t take it, he can’t wait—not with the way your fingers are tangling in his shirt and tugging, the way needy little whines are hitching in your throat, the way you’re squirming in his grasp, trying to grind against his half-hard cock.

You’re fucking desperate, but so is he, thigh whacking off the edge of the wooden coffee table as he blindly staggers towards the kitchen, tongue hungrily dragging against yours while he does so.

The cold marble stings your skin as he deposits you onto the nearest countertop, hips wedged between your thighs keeping them spread.

Little fingers immediately go for his belt, nonsensical whimpers sounding in the back of your throat as you fumble and struggle, hooking your fingers through his beltloops and pulling.

“Eager girl,” he chastises, a little breathless as nimble fingers find the soaked lace at the apex of your thighs, pushing it to the side. “Nii-san has to prep you first,”

“No,” you whine, pitched high and much too loud. “M’wet enough. Want you, want you now, nii-san, please, just give it to me, been waiting so long, please,”

The words are slurred together as they tumble from your lips, infused with a potent lust that casts a dense haze over your mind, rendering you capable of only focusing on what you need.

Light eyes dart up, holding yours through fanned lashes for a moment, as if they’re searching for any hesitancy, before his lips form the most genuine smile he’s ever given you.

“Yeah?” he huffs out, finally breaking your stare to watch his hands undo his belt, continuing to speak as he shoves his jeans down his thighs and frees his cock. “You think you can take it?”

“Yes, nii-san,” you nearly mewl, gazing at him with blown, glazed eyes and a cute pout. “Please, give it to me, I-I want it, please,”

His gaze finally flicks up, that sincere smile stretched wider across his face, a playful glint in his eye, voice void of any of its usual derision. “You want what? Hmm, baby? Come on, nii-san wants to hear you say it,”

A low whimper leaves your throat and you shift on the countertop, as if trying to wiggle closer to him. “Your cock, nii-san, want your cock, please-please-please, gimme-gimme-gimme,”

It sounds as though you’re close to tears, voice cracking and thick with desire, Naoya’s cock twitching in his palm in response to the sound, and, God, he doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to that, absolutely adores it when you beg, thinks you sound so pretty when you’re pleading for him.

“You’re a greedy little girl, you know that?” he pants while he pushes in, a muffled yelp prying past your lips. “Shh, hush now, nii-san will give you what you need,”

The stretch is incredible, cute little cunt throbbing around his thick cock as it struggles to adjust to the sudden intrusion, feeling as though he’s going to tear you into two, leaving stinging micro-fissures in the delicate flesh.

Yet despite the burn, the ache that settles deep in your core, that feels like he’s splitting you in half, a satisfied moan leaves your lips, head falling forward and resting against his broad shoulder, fingers curling in the cotton that adorns his torso and pulling him closer, closer, closer.

Because, finally, you feel whole, more whole than you’ve ever felt in your entire life, satisfying an inexplicable desire buried at the crux of your very soul, something you didn’t even realize you were missing until you finally had it.

“S’not enough,” you mumble into him, nuzzling your face against him like a cat. “Need more, nii-san, need more,”

“You really are a selfish little fucking brat,” he grunts as fingers flex on your hips, tips digging into the pliant flesh and gripping, singeing his name into your skin in rapidly blossoming indigo and ultramarine.

“Nii-san was going to try and be nice,” the words, strained and husky, spill from plush lips as his hips begin to thrust, slow and hard, winding back as they draw the force to ram forward, slamming a cry from your chest as his cockhead pounds against your cervix. “But you’re too impatient for that, aren’t you?”

It’s a fucking lie; his self-control had been hanging by a thread, barely restraining the primal need to wildly buck into you, but you just snapped it, just tore the last of his treasured discipline to fucking shreds with nothing more than a few words.

The pace is ruthless, your head bouncing off the cabinets with each powerful snap of his hips, an endless stream of cries pouring from your lips, one hand curling around the edge of the counter as the other grips his shoulder, nails burying themselves in the hard muscle through the thin cotton of his shirt. Sharp bones carve a spot just for him, made for him, between your legs, into the tender flesh of your inner thighs.

“You’re mine, you hear me?” he pants out, eyes so bright they’re practically glowing. “Mine.”

“Yours!” you gasp out, head nodding in sloppy little movements against his shoulder as you fall forward, wrapping your arms around him and squeezing. “Yours, yours, yours,”

Everything feels hazy, almost dreamlike in a sense, vision blurring over with a thick shield of tears that you can’t quite explain, his name and the honorific becoming muddled on your tongue, fusing into one as you wail it out, clinging to him in a way that’s almost possessive.

“Nii-san’s here,” he promises you, voice hoarse. “Nii-san’s yours, too,”

“Mine,” the arms thrown around his neck tighten, fingers tangling in soft gold and wrinkled cotton. “Mine, mine, mine—”

“Mine,” he echoes, hips never faltering even as you wind your body around his, large hands keeping your hips still as he fucks into you. “And only mine—”

“Forever and ever and ever—”

“You belong to me, were made for me, put on this earth for me,”

Words of confirmation are escaping from your lips, you’re absolutely sure of it, can feel them vibrating up your throat as you speak them—but it’s so much, too much, all of the feelings swirling around in your chest, sending spikes of pleasure and thorns of pain shooting through your veins as they clash together. A sudden wooziness settles over you, brain fogging over as he becomes the only thing you can think of, the only thing you want to think of, nonsensical babbling still slipping from between parted lips in hitched puffs of breath.

“So full,” you nearly sob, one of Naoya’s hands tangling in the hair at the back of your skull and yanking, pulling your face from the sanctuary of his neck and exposing your expressions to his scrutinizing eyes, devouring the beautiful tears streaking your cheeks, the contorting of your features as pleasure washes over them. “M’so full, nii-san, it’s so much,”

“Yeah? Better than he could ever stuff you?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” you’re wailing out, affirmations falling from your lips with each brutal piston of his hips. “More, need more,”

Because it’s like an addiction, an innate need for more of him, for all of him, ravenous and unquenchable, that’s always existed within you, that his cock stretching you out, filling you up, has only just awakened.

His aura is positively intoxicating, overwhelming your senses and becoming all you can see, all you can hear, all you can smell, taste, touch. His taste lingers on your tongue, faint notes of minty pine and sharp nicotine dancing with your tastebuds; his touch brands itself into you, bruises and bitemarks carving his name into soft skin; his scent assaults you, envelops you, overpowers everything else as it wraps you in a shackled embrace of expensive aftershave and cedar wood.

A growl tears from his chest, so rough that it vibrates throughout his entire body, and his pace quickens, cock plunging into you and an incredible speed, dragging against that one spot that has you nearly screaming, that has your eyes rolling back and your little hole fluttering around him as a blistering fire sparks to life in the pit of your belly.

You can feel it, furling in on itself with each vicious rut of his hips, each relentless bang of his cockhead against your cervix, a concentrated ball of scathing heat pulsing, quaking in your stomach as it curls tighter and tighter and tighter with each plunge forward—until it bursts, a fiery explosion that buzzes through your veins as your cunt clenches, gushing on his cock as he praises you—yeah, that’s it, make a mess on nii-san—entire body coiling from the sheer strength.

“Tell me,” he keens almost desperately, voice pulling you from the clutches of post-orgasm unconsciousness, hips stuttering for a moment before he regains his finesse. “Tell me how badly you need it,”

And you don’t need to be told what, pleads pouring from your mouth in an instant, before your brain can even comprehend what you’re saying, an instinctual reaction to his command. “Need your cum, nii-san, need you to full me up, fill my tummy with it, stuff me full of it, need it so bad, nii-san, please gimme your cum, please, please,”

The words are all jumbled together, thick with tears and wet with saliva and imbued with delirium, quivering and breaking as your body trembles from overstimulation.

“Fuck,” he chokes on the curse, hips stilling, pressed flush against your ass as his cock throbs, filling you with spurt after spurt of thick cum, a broken whine catching in his throat as endless words spill from yours, peppered with the sweetest moans—yes, nii-san, thank you, nii-san, fill me up, fill my body with it, my brain with it, I need it, I need it.

And he does, pumps you full of so much that it begins leaking out from your abused little hole—still stuffed with him—and down his cock.

And it’s then—after he has filled you up, with your precious little cunt still pulsing around his length, whimpering out his honorific as you hold onto him, voice raw and wrecked and cracking with residual tears—then that Naoya’s sure you were meant for him, made for him, perfectly tailored to him; he knows you were, his very own gift from the gods.

#zenin naoya x reader #zenin naoya smut #jjk smut #zenin naoya #zen'in naoya #tw:incest #tw death #tw toxic relationship #tw abuse #tw physical abuse #WAAAAAAH FINALLY HE IS DONE HEHEHE YAAAAY #whew okay

1K notes · View notes

bestiesenpai · 4 years ago

Text

creampie headcanons - geto, choso, mahito

Creampie headcanons pt2 where I rectify my mistake and write Geto instead of Gojo. Look in my defense they both start with a G, they’re both men and they’re both tall and annoying. Now stop looking at the past and look to the future.

Gender neutral reader~

Geto

Almost exclusively watches porn where there’s a creampie at the end

You know he likes ‘em, but he’s not really touting it off a whole lot and he certainly doesn’t bring it up in front of others(this isn’t a fucking circle jerk!)

He’s a bit of a meanie, so when it does come up he’ll make it seem like you’re the nasty one for wanting it

Geto always has to have the upper hand

“Sugu, please- aah-” He’d been pounding into you for so long, drawing out your orgasm for what felt like ages.

“What is it baby, got something to say?” He taunts above you, the messy bun his hair had been in was coming apart and pieces of his hair cascaded down and tickled your face.

“Wanna cum, p-please!” Digging your nails into his back, you rock your hips up into his, making his breath hitch a little.

“So dirty, you want me to make such a mess of you.” Cupping the side of your face, Suguru shook your head lightly. “Want me to fill up your little hole with my cum?” He asked, secretly desperate to fill you up over and over until you can’t take it anymore.

“Mhmm!” Grabbing the hand holding you, you drag his fingers into your mouth. “Please!” You begin to drool around his fingers, sucking on them as if they were his cock and making him ache even more.

“Naughty, naughty.” Suguru hums, grinding his pelvis against yours and making you whine around his fingers. “You better milk me dry then, I don’t want a single drop left behind.”

Choso

No one and yes I do mean no one knows he likes creampies

Geto showed him creampie porn once and he’s been hooked ever since and he’s wanted to do it but never brought it up

You’ll have to dig that information out of him like a detective solving a cold case

But when you finally do, the real fun can begin

“Fuck, just like that.” His hands are sweaty as they grip your back, sliding up and down your skin with every movement you make. Choso feels like he’s in heaven, watching you bounce on his cock and feeling you grind on him.

“Cum inside, p-please.” You pant, desperate to get him to cum. Choso has made sure you’ve cum at least once, and now the burn in your legs is starting to get to you.

“You sure?” He asks, digging his feet into the mattress the more time goes on. He can feel you slipping, see it in the way your legs falter a little. Nodding fervently, you let out a surprised little shout when you’re pushed forward and held against Choso’s chest.

Your face is buried in his neck and arms wrapped around his shoulders and he fucks you from below, bouncing you in his lap. Your ass claps loudly against his thighs and your moans are right in his ear, giving him all the stimulation he needs to get off.

“Fuck- ah-” As he cums he slams you down onto him, his whole body tensing as he empties inside you. A long, low groan comes from his chest and his head is pressed hard against the pillows underneath him.

Giving you a sloppy kiss, he relaxes his body slowly and lets you sit up, but not remove yourself from him fully. Holding your legs open, Choso bites his lip at the sight of his cum spilling out from you around his cock.

“Lemme see.” It’s the only instruction he gives you as he helps you off him. Still seated on top of him you keep your legs spread, hole twitching and clenching around nothing and his seed getting pushed out.

“Ah!” You jump, unprepared at him spreading you open further with his fingers and watching intently.

“Fucking sexy.” He says to himself, pushing a finger into you and groaning as more comes out. “Gonne get me hard again, you little tease.”

Mahito

This is the worst kept secret since- well since whatever.

Everyone knows Mahito likes a good creampie, the only porn he shows you has some form of creampie lol

Talks about it a lot, fantasizes about emptying load after load into you

Is not above manipulating his body with his cursed energy so he can cum more than normal and really fill you up

“What a good little bitch you are.” Mahito chuckles, fucking you from behind. He’s got your arms tied behind your back, your ass the only thing in the air. Tugging on the restraints, he chuckles again at the strained little whimper you let out.

Smoothing his hands down the expanse of your back, Mahito groans at the way you clench around him. He loves you like this, fucked out underneath him with only the feeling of his cock keeping you grounded.

Landing a loud smack on your ass, Mahito groans at the same time you do. His orgasm is approaching fast, the first one of the night, and he spreads your ass apart to watch his cock disappear into you.

He lets out an incoherent babble of words and stutters to a pause, his cock pushed as far in as it’ll go inside you and painting your walls white. Bending over, his chest is nearly flush with your back, his panting loud and right in your ear.

“That’s one, let’s see if we can break our record tonight, baby.”

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #choso #geto suguru #mahito #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen scenarios

1K notes · View notes

d6rkroom · 4 years ago

Text

— ‘𝗻𝗼𝗯𝗼𝗱𝘆 𝗱𝗼𝗲𝘀 𝗶𝘁 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗱𝗼.’

finn mcnamara x top!male reader. (wc; 1.7k)

#a/n: this took way longer than it should've, my apologies fer’ that! BUT THANK YOU ELIAN FOR GIVIN’ ME THE GENERAL IDEA FOR THIS, I HAD A TON OF FUN WRITIN’ IT! YER’ BIG BRAIN AS HELL!

warnings. forced breeding, dubcon, mentions of cheating, possessive behavior, degrading k., dumbification, brat taming, sex infront of a mirror, manhandling, belly bulge, cum inflation, implied mpreg.

it was expected, it was only a matter of time before his olden behavior caved in on him and he relapsed right back into those sickly habits from nothing more than a year prior.

finn mcnamara was a slut. a dirty, good for nothing cheater. you knew his loyalty was short lived— his drive for exploration and choas secured that lucid notion in your brain ever since the two of you had started your dating journey.

how naive were you to untrust your heart with him, so utterly idiotic.

there you were, fingers curled around the doorknob as you lay in wait for your boyfriend to take note of the new presence clouding the room. your face was sheathed in coats of not shock, nor distaste— just inflicted with an expressionless disappointment. whatever bit of rage that fogged your mind swiftly dissolved along with his sexual mate that accompanied your spot on the bed.

nonchalant as ever, he sent a sloppy smile your direction; probably as a result of whatever poor pounding he just received from the rather small looking guy who was just in your room. pathetic, he couldn't even wait a few hours for your attention so he tossed aside his pride and let his greedy hole get creamed by someone at least half your size.

“satisfied with yourself, whore?” a satirical snear contorted your lips. one he knew a little to well, one he could tell apart from your usual one. the one you would often flicker as the two of you conversed. he knew you loved him, as did he; yet, the outcome of pushing your buttons was one he couldn't shake the craving for.

“hah, as satisfied as ever— sweetheart.” his first mistake was underestimating your tolerance for his bullshit. the second was letting that sour chuckle rip past his throat.

he was already exposed, clothes abandoned along side his dignity. letting such a inexperienced and second option hook-up ruin his beautifully stretched hole was baffling to you. was he really that desperate to have his ass filled and feel full for the remainder of the evening? you already knew the answer to your own inquiry.

he sputtered out a few words that glazed past your ears and straight out the back of your head. you had no care to hear any other soft attempts to convey how what he committed was mistake or how his body was now yours for the night. you had tunnel-vision set on his spend, plump ass that was already wiggling in the air— contrast from his cheek, which was pressed into the matress.

you give a harsh smack on the milky flesh, making finn’s lower half jolt in retaliation; halting his train of thought and stopping his tongue mid monologue. his hands instinctively sink into the pillow beneath his neck. you shift your weight, prying his thighs apart and spreading his cheeks wide open; the perfect view. the head of your cock, flushed red and throbbing gives a few pokes at his pulsating rim which is already venting around nothing.

you give his hole a few, firm slaps from the length of your shaft. beckoning that bratty inclination from out from beneath him— you wanted to hear those lips bark out your name. persuading you to rock in and out of his useless body.

“you want that? my cock to just slip right inside you without need for an apology? without regard for what i just caught you doing in, our bed?”

you almost give in, but you're smarter than to let finn get what he so desperately wants, that easily. rubbing your palm into his hips, small pats connecting with the side of his abdomen insinuate he fetches the mirror from the corner of the bedroom. no words were required in the exchange, he knew his place— plain and simple. and he sure as hell knew what you silently commanded he do.

an exasperated groan grumbles from the depths of his chest, his tongue clicked in annoyance at the sudden expectation for him to remove himself from his lewd position. so stupid, he throws away your years of love to get fucked by some stranger and then complains as you whisk him away from the sheets. he had driven you to your witt's end.

“excuse you, cunt? did i just hear you protest, after cheating in my bed, in my house? don't forget who owns you.”

his blood ran cold and the hairs on the back of his neck sprung to life with an accompanying chill that relished up his spine. his shoulders visibly cringed at your tone as he wasted no time flipping over and hoisting the mirror slowly to the foot of the bed. with the reflective piece of glass now fitted nicely as it leaned against the bedframe— finn crawled atop the messy array of sheets.

“y/n look.. m’sorry don't-” he wasn't allowed to finish, at least not anymore he wasn't. you weren't going to let him disrespect your authority under your roof any longer.

without thinking your hand reaches to unbuckle your belt, fingers toying with the zipper and button respectively. tugging your pants and boxers down without caution— you carded a few free fingers into his messy, mop of hair. digging into and only making it a much more noticable mess than before as you yanked his face to meet yours.

you felt a guley glob of spit collect under your tongue, shooting the wad right between his eyes; saliva leaking down the bridge of his nose and bleeding onto his upperlip. you knew how he adorded being tossed around like trash, better yet, treated as such. he was getting off to this, his eyes pooling wide with lust everytime a vulgar insult leaped from behind your teeth.

he tries not to let his words slur as you play with his still, very tender asshole. breath hitching every step of the way as you spin him to face the direction of the mirror. his hole was still lubed and wet from his previous visitor, giving you very easy access with little push or resistance.

his eyes roll back, you keep your gaze attentive on his decoy on the other side of the glass. your fat cock streaching him out has his lips parting to release a squeal of appreciation, a lavish burn following close suit as you sink deeper inside of him. he's not regretting his choice to unturn his devotion towards you; not yet at least.

“getting off to this slut? look at yourself, i haven't even started to really fuck you yet. pathetic.”

finn’s eyes are trained on his reflection, the look of tragedy curling over his spit-slicked lips. he could feel how deep you were, reaching spots he didn't even know were there. he can also make out the veins on your cock dragging along his walls and you're right; he is getting off to this. it felt so good— he felt so good— it all was good.

you rut into his ass like a feral animal, grunting cocktailed with sour remarks to keep the tension rising. instinctively he clings onto the fabric beneath him for dear life, knuckles fading from bright red to a pale white. through the fog of pleasure clogging his mind, he can only keen out an audible ‘yes’ to all of the questions and words that jumbled from your mouth.

with your eyes fixated on the way his skin ripples and jiggles against your hips, the fat riding up onto yer’ waist with the brutal pace you keep. he attempts to protest with how close he feels himself getting, only to be cut off by one hard slam after another— cock drilling into his tight little hole with intentions to impregnate him.

concepts of his usualy flat tummy growing round and bloated as you fucked it full of your little swimmers now press into your mind. each seed racing to see which will be the one to knock up your boyfriend; rendering him yours forever. your vigor prevails, motivated by the sole image of your slut giving birth to one, maybe two of your genetic creations. your offspring.

finn wonders if the cheating scandal really has your stamina skyrocketing, that is until through the intoxication of your speed— he realizes. fuck, you don't have a condom. he can't get pregnant, as much as he'd want to settle down with you he has way to many jobs that would release him from employment if they found out he had a baby in his belly. you wouldn't do that to him, would you? you knew how near and dear traveling from place to place, job to job was to him. was this punishment?

“sweeti- ah! y/n c-condom!”

even with his tongue tripping over ever other word, you could decipher the clutter of gibberish all too well. he had figured out your plan to breed his tiny body.

“oh? that silly thing? i gotta make you my wife, remember? just a stupid little whore who can only work from home. nobody wants to fuck a pregnant bitch. maybe that'll teach you to keep it in your pants.”

“n-no— ah-! fuck..”

your words sent tingles over his scalp, squelching noises resonate through the air mingled with your bitter laughter. drool starts to seep from the corners of his mouth and tears begin to well up in his eyes as he watches his mirror double get impailed by the outline of your cock. he knows soon that a small child will fill the roll of your shaft, he can't do anything but try to resist as the idea of your warm, stick love flooding his womb only grows on him.

at this point, all finn is doing is whimpering on your cock, degrading making the pressure behind his thighs hotter and his ass tighter. that familiar knot twisting in his lower stomach begging to snap as you roll into his prostate with a hunger glistening in your eyes. you flip finn on his back and catch his bottom, wet lip between your teeth and tug with the push of your hips. eye contact is never broken as your hot load spurts long and sticky ropes through his ass and into his belly. so full, he's so positively full as he feels your genes enter his boy womb— effectively impregnating and painting his gummy walls with white fluid.

soon a bunch of mini you’s will roam the empty spaces in your home and you'll start the perfect family together. you had planned to make him your bitch for quite some time, but the cheating only sped up the inevitable. finn sobbed into the crook of your neck; protruding tummy poking at your abdomen as he loosely attached to you.

the whole ordeal would be burned into his brain and yours, the mirror serving his eyes a sick reminder that he was now tasked with carrying your kid. forever.

#𓉔 — m.list #𓉔 — directory.#𓉔 — works.#c; finn #finn mcnamara x male reader #finn mcnamara x top male reader #life is strange x male reader #life is strange x top male reader #dark life is strange #life is strange smut #lis smut #dark lis #dark blog #smut blog #finn mcnamara #finn mcnamara smut

231 notes · View notes

suchalonelysunflower · 4 years ago

Text

Tell Me What You’re Thinking (c.h)

Pairing: Calum Hood x Fem! Reader

Summary: You overhear something you shouldn’t hear. But Calum will make it right, won’t he?

Warnings: ANGST. Language (including insults), mentions of alcohol, drugs and cheating. MC with low self esteem. Some grammar mistakes (English is not my first language, I’m sorry)

Word count: 4 k

Author’s Note: hi I’m back with the angsty shit. This is very self indulgent, and I put Mitchy as a bad guy here, so sorry if you like him? Reblogs, Commets, Feedback and likes are very welcomed and encouraged! I love to hear from you guys ❤️ hope you like it and Happy Reading ✨🦋🌻

My materialist // wanna be part of my tag list?

You sighed as you finished your last paper. It was finals week and you were officially done with your exams and term papers for the semester. The last couple of weeks were rough and no one knew that more than you and your boyfriend Calum who has been by your side through this whole stressing process.

You smiled to yourself as you remembered the encouraging words that Calum often said to you. He knew how hard you worked in school and at your part time job in a law firm, and you appreciated how much he cared for you in times of stress and frustrations. Always cheering you up from the bleechers as you made a name for yourself.

Calum promised that once you were done with school for the semester, he was going to take you out on a well deserved Holiday, just the two of you and Duke as you celebrated another six months worth of work done. Everything was already planned for the next weekend and you couldn’t wait.

You reread your final essay one more time and decided that it was enough for today and if there were any mistakes left, then you’ll deal with them tomorrow. Now the only thing in your mind was a cozy blanket and a feel good movie. But first, you needed to get some food and drinks for your mini celebratory self care session.

The thought of asking Calum to come join you crossed your mind, but you quickly remembered that tonight was boys night. Every couple of weeks Calum and his friends have a little night out to catch up and decompress all of the stress of the week. Tonight was Calum’s turn to host boys night as they decided to have a quiet night in, so they must be having a good time downstairs and you didn’t want to ruin the mood.

With that thought in mind, you carefully placed your laptop on Calum’s side of the bed and carefully untangled your legs from under the covers so you wouldn't wake up Duke, who snuggled with you every time you had to work to keep you company. You put on one of Calum’s hoodies and headed downstairs trying your best to not make any sound.

Before you even reached the last step of the stairs, you could already hear your boyfriend’s laugh and it made your heart flutter. Even after almost three years of being together, his laugh still gives you butterflies every time you hear it, falling even more in love than what is possible.

Once you were in the kitchen, you started looking into the cupboards as you searched for your favorite snacks, but in the end you were unable to find any, thinking that maybe Calum has hidden them somewhere on the top shelves where he knows you can’t reach.

Letting out a small huff, you debated with yourself the option of climbing up the counter or admitting defeat and go ask your boyfriend for some help. Luckily, you didn’t have to decide as you heard a familiar voice behind you.

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite scholar” Said Ashton with a light chuckle “What are you doing here? I thought you’d be out tonight since it’s boys night”

You smiled as you let him wrap his arms around you to give you a hug. Ashton was the first friend you made when you moved to LA a couple of years back, he was the one who introduced you to Calum in the first place, and you were very thankful for having him as a best friend.

“I had to finish up some term papers, so I had to reschedule my girl’s night for tomorrow” You explained to the black haired man “And what are you doing here? Need a refill?” You ask, pointing to the empty glass he was holding.

Ashton nodded, “Yeah, but I also needed a time out. Mitchy is kinda being very obnoxious today” He said with a sigh.

Mitchy Collins was a close friend with the boys for many years now, but you can’t say that he is a friend of yours. It’s not like you haven’t tried to befriend the singer, on the contrary, you both had multiple chances to get to know each other but he either ignored you or made things very awkward between you. And, to be honest, you were not that excited to become his friend either. There was something weird about him, a bad vibe per se, that made you not trust him at all. He was always very loud, obnoxious and downright rude sometimes and it made you very uncomfortable. Both Calum and Ashton knew about your uneasiness with Mitchy, so they didn’t push it too far and you were thankful for that.

“Oh?” You asked, trying to mask your discomfort “What is he saying this time?”

“Just a bunch of bullshit, to be honest. He is very high right now and thinks he’s above everyone else” Ashton said, taking a seat on one of the kitchen island stools. You did the same as you offered him a glass of water.

“Are you high right now?” You chuckled.

“Nope. Calum and I decided to stay clean tonight cause tomorrow we start early in the studio and the weed kinda messes up our pipes” He explains.

“What about Luke and Mikey?”

“They are not here yet, they said they needed to finish up something for a song and then they will meet us here” Ashton shrugged, not giving it too much importance “And what about you, darling? How was your day?”

You began to tell Ashton about how you finally finished the semester and how excited you were for your little getaway with Calum next week. However, every couple of minutes you were interrupted by a loud laugh or an obnoxious comment coming from the living room where the rest of the boys were sitting. Sometimes their loud comments started loud conversations that neither of you could help but overhear, but you did your best to ignore them. But some things are easier said than done.

“I’m telling you man! You can do so much better” You heard Mitchy’s voice echoing through the house, followed by a chuckle from Calum who mumbled something among the lines of “Fuck off”

You furrowed your eyebrows as you stopped the conversation you had with Ashton in order to pay attention to what was being said down the hall. You looked at Ash with a confused face, wondering what they could be saying but at the same time not knowing if you should continue listening to their private affairs. You were about to open up your mouth to continue what you were saying until another comment made by Mitchy caught your attention.

“You have to admit she is the worst sometimes. All she does is boss you around like you are some kind of puppet. She is the definition of annoying”

You sat up straight as you looked at Ashton, who mirrored your puzzled expression.

“Is- is he talking about me?” You asked in a whisper.

Ashton shook his head “I don’t thi-”

“I swear! What does she even do besides work and study all the time? She barely has time for you. You said it yourself! And when she’s not doing any of those things? She’s nagging around and clinging to you like you’re a damn purse! That’s who Y/N is”

You froze in the spot. So they were talking about you… and did Calum really say you don’t have time for him? You don’t even get time to yourself and he knows that! He said he was okay with it, that he understood and supported you through and through… Guess not.

“I still don’t know what you saw in her, dude. She’s just plain boring, playing to be a good girl when in reality she has zero personality” He continued his rant “She does nothing for you! Honestly! I’m surprised you made it this far with that bitch”

You knew that wasn’t true. He never really made an effort to get to know you! how could he be saying all those stuff? You did everything for Calum, all your goals, your plans are for the both of you. How could he know that if he never really talked to you? But you had to admit that that first comment really hurt. You were always doubting yourself at the beginning of your relationship with Calum, always feeling like you weren’t good enough, or pretty enough, or smart or fun or hot… To fight off those kinds of feelings was a difficult job to say the least, but Calum was always there to fight them with you, reassuring you that he loved you. He loved every part of you and he will love you forever.

“Is she at least a decent fuck? Cause I don’t see her doing anything remotely interesting in bed” Mitchy laughed “If she’s not she’s just wasting your time”

You noticed how Ashton suddenly stiffened next to you when he heard Mitchy’s comments. His knuckles turned white as he gripped his fists at the side of his body “Okay, that’s enough” But you were quicker, grabbing onto his shirt as a sign to make him stay there with you and not cause a scene.

His eyes found yours and you could see the anger build up on them, you knew that he would defend you no matter what and you loved him for that. But you knew Calum would defend you over there, he wouldn't let him talk about you that way.

“Ash, please” You pleaded, tugging on his shirt for him to take a seat again. But he preferred to stay standing next to you, almost like guarding and shielding you from any other comment that might hurt your feelings.

“I can’t let him talk about you like that!” He hissed. But you just shook your head.

“I know, Ash. I know. But Cal will handle it” You said confidently, trying to keep yourself together.

You knew Calum would not let those comments slide. Even if you weren’t in the room with him, those comments were awful and very hurtful, no one deserves to be treated like that, especially by someone as close as a friend of his.

You waited for his intervention, but your heart crushed when the only thing you heard from him were laughs.

“She’s a good fuck” That’s all he said.

The grip you had on Ashton’s shirt suddenly flattered as you fought the lump in your throat “Y-you said he wasn’t high” You whispered to Ashton, who was just as frozen as you were after hearing his best mate’s comment.

“He’s not” He said, standing tall next to you. As much as he wanted to go in there and give the guys an earful, he knew you needed him here with you.

Out of all the things Mitchy has said, out of all the insults and belitments, that’s what he says? That you’re a good fuck?

You knew that you could be annoying sometimes when you got happy. You just wanted to share that happiness with everyone around you and you thought… you thought that Calum liked that. You were not a bad girlfriend, you always tried your best to make him as happy as he makes you; to love him as much as he loves you, cause he loves you. Doesn’t he?

If he loves you then why is he letting his friend say all of this stuff about you? Why is he not saying anything? Does- does he agree with him?

The tears started rolling silently, half of you not believing what you were hearing while the other half clang to the idea of Calum defending you at some point.

“Oh I know!” Said Mitchy after a while “I can introduce you to someone! Right now, actually. Her name’s Vanessa and she’s crazy hot, dude”

He can’t be serious.

Ashton looked at you with pleading, furious eyes. Almost begging you to go and let him deal with them. But you grabbed his hand and made him stay. This has to be it. This has to be the chance for Calum to say something.

“You’re kidding right?” The curly haired man asked. Making you let out a breath of relief.

“Not at all! Think about it. We go, you meet her, you fuck her and done!” He said like it was nothing “Y/N will never find out cause she’s stuck up her ass. Your fans will never know or they won’t care cause they don’t even know you are in a ”relationship” to begin with! You are single to their eyes. And you get a decent fuck from someone who looks the part and knows how to have fun! It’s a win - win!”

Your heart stopped as you waited for Calum to answer. To tell Mitchy to go fuck himself. To tell him that he loves you and would never do that to you.

“I don’t know, man. I’ll think about it” Calum shrugged “Plus, if we go out I’ll have to tell Y/N. She’s upstairs finishing some shit for her university”

“Fucking hell… see! I told you! A stuck up bitch” Mitchy said, making Calum laugh.

But their laughs and the rest of the conversation grew numb to your ears. Your body trembled as the tears came flooding in, holding in the sobs that were tearing up your throat. How could he? He was really thinking of cheating on you.

You could feel every little piece of your heart shattered as you search for some kind of leverage that could hold you still so you don’t fall and break. You felt ill, disgusted and heartbroken.

As you tried to get up, you felt your knees buckle and almost fell to the ground if it weren’t for Ashton holding you up. He was still there and you knew by the look in his eyes that he was not going anywhere.

He was just as disgusted and angry as you. He couldn’t believe all the things that were said tonight, all the things that Calum failed to make it right and hurt you in the process. He knew that if he were in that room that the conversation would’ve died the moment it started. He would never let them talk about you that way.

“I-I can’t-“ You cried, moments away from hyperventilating “I can’t stay here, Ash”

He nodded, pulling you into a hug and kissing the top of your head for reassurance “Go upstairs, love. Grab your stuff and we’re getting out of here. You’re staying with me tonight, okay?” Ashton let go of you and started walking towards the living room where the rest of the guys were still talking.

“Ash” You called, making him turn around “D-don’t make a scene, please”

He sighed as he muttered a quiet “okay” before turning around, leaving you alone as you went upstairs to grab the bare necessities to spend the night, you’ll figure out the rest later. Right now you just needed to get out of here.

You opened the bedroom door and almost collapsed at the entrance. Duke came running towards you, sensing that there was something wrong as he started to whine and tried to jump into your arms. That only made you cry harder as you realized that you were leaving him too. You fell to the floor and patted the puppy as he tried to wipe off your tears with his tongue, breaking your heart even more.

A loud voice cut you out of your thoughts. You could hear Ashton yelling, although you couldn’t exactly figure out what he was saying. This meant that Calum knew you heard everything and that, if he had at least some decency left in him, he would come and get you. You needed to act fast.

You stood up and grabbed the first big bag that you could find. Inside of it you threw your laptop, your books, your charger, some clothes and some bathroom essentials. You debated on whether or not to take with you a picture of you, Calum and Duke… it was your favorite memory with them. But the damage was stronger than the nostalgia, so you threw that picture to the ground before you left the room that once belonged to you.

You were running down the stairs when you passed Calum running up them. You ignored him as he stopped in his tracks and followed you to the hall.

“Y/N!” He said, desperate to try and stop you “Y/N, baby, please! Hear me out!”

“Hear what?! I already heard enough!” You said as you turned around.

Calum’s face was almost unrecognizable. The fear in his eyes, the desperation in his voice and his close off body language was not something you’d normally see in him. The “I fucked up” expression showed all the regret in the world, yet you didn’t seem to care at the moment.

“I. Heard. All of it, Calum” You cried through gritted teeth, anger boiling inside of you as you stared at the man you thought you’d marry “All of it and not once did I hear you say something to try and defend me. How do you think that made me feel?!”

“Baby-“ He tried, but you cut him off.

“I work my ass off all day and night for you, for us. For me to go and see you on tour like you ask me to, knowing damn well I would go to the ends of this fucking earth for you! Catching up extra classes and shifts so I can go with you. I cancel everything to be with you. I gave up everything for us to be together. I barely even have time for myself as I try my best to be something worthy of you!” Your tears were staining your face, but you pushed away the pain for a moment, knowing that once you break down it’s over “I try my best to be a good girlfriend, a good friend! I loved you with all my heart and this is what I get after almost three years? A good fuck? That 's it?”

Calum’s world fell to the floor as he tried hard to fight off the lump in his throat, whispering in a broken voice “Loved?”

“That’s all you get from it?” You ask defeated “Calum I would’ve never let my friends call you names, insult you or offend you in any way. I would’ve gone to the ends of the world for you, defended you till the day I die. All because I trusted you to do the same for me and you failed me, Calum. You broke me. You let him call me a bitch, a stuck up, worthless, stupid, bossy, annoying… should I go on? Cause those words are now printed in my memory, next to you agreeing to all of those things. Is that what you think of me?”

“Baby, I swear it’s not like that!” He said, grabbing your hand and trying to make you stay “I fucked up! I know! You are right, I failed you and you don’t know how much I hate myself for it! But please, love. You know I could never think of you like that… you are the most wonderful person there is! You are kind, smart, loving, beautiful-“

“Did you cheat on me?” You ask bluntly.

“What?”

“Did you cheat on me?”

“No!” Calum said instantly “No, I would never!”

You nodded “Yet, you thought of it.”

Calum opened his mouth to say something, but you cut him off again “Is that why you never made our relationship public? So you could have a free pass whenever you want to? Cause I thought it was to protect our privacy, for us to have a normal life in the midst of the chaos that is to date a celebrity. When you told all of that I thought “wow, this is a guy with integrity and with values” Yet I don’t know what to believe now. I thought you loved me-“

“I do love you-“

“I thought you loved me” You said, the tears were already dry as the anger came flooding in “But you don’t hurt the people you love. You don’t break them like you did to me. You don’t let anyone hurt them, even if they are not in the room with you. And you don’t cheat on them like you were going to tonight with that girl Vanessa while I waited here like an idiot for you to come home and spend some time with me”

You pull your hand out of his grasp, holding onto your bag as you heard Calum cry “Y/N-“

“You are free to do whatever you want now, Calum. Cause to the eyes of your fans you are single, and I am as well”

You turned around and saw Ashton waiting by the door with his keys in his hand. He opened up the door for you as you walked by, ignoring all of Calum’s pleads for you to stay.

“So you are just going to leave?!” He yelled, not knowing what else to do. “Whe- Where are you taking her Ashton?”

The black haired man made sure that you were already sitting in his car before turning around to face his friend “I’m taking here with me and away from you cause that’s what she needs now. So don’t bother calling or showing up cause you are not welcome right now. And don’t even try to call Luke or Michael cause they already know and we won’t support you on this” Ashton said as calm as he could. He already told him off, but the anger of seeing you cry in front of him still resided in him.

“I- I love her , Ash! You can’t just take her away from me. I’m her boyfriend!”

“Correction, you were her boyfriend. And I can take her away and I will cause she asked me to” He said taking an intimidating step closer to Calum “Cause while you were here talking trash about her behind her back, planning on how to cheat on her. I was back there, holding her while she broke down crying cause she couldn’t believe that her boyfriend didn’t stand up for her and let a fucking stranger insult her all night long! You weren’t there to see her eyes water or her lip tremble. You weren’t there when she begged me with tears in her eyes to not make a scene cause all she wanted to do was to get out of here. She is the most amazing person ever, she is a light in all of our lives and you extinguished her without a second thought. You might be my friend, but she is too and I love her and I will defend her no matter what, she doesn’t deserve this kind of crap you just showed to her. So don’t count on me to try and help you get her back, I won’t blame her if she doesn’t”

Calum felt small as Ashton walked away from him, closing the door with a bang and leaving him all alone in his big house. Well, almost.

“Dude, that was intense” Mitchy laughed as he placed a hand on Calum’s shoulder “So, wanna go now?”

A blind rage fell over Calum as he heard the mocking laughs of his so-called friend, acting like his life just didn’t fall apart in front of him.

Calum grabbed the singer by the neck of his shirt and pushed him forcefully against the wall “You are going to get out of my house and never come back. You hear me?!” He yelled to his face, almost letting out steam from his nostrils as he was sure he could kill him right now.

“Dude, what’s wrong with yo-“

Calum quickly grabbed a bottle from his nearby mini bar, suddenly gaining all the courage he should’ve had hours ago, and throwed it to Mitchy’s feet, making him jump “Get the fuck out!” He yelled, grabbing bottle after bottle, glass after glass and throwing them into the ground “OUT!”

Only when the last bottle was smashed into pieces did he realize he was completely alone.

And only then did he allow himself to cry for the loss of the love of his life, walking away from him and leaving him to pick up the pieces of two broken hearts.

part 2

Tags: @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof @talksoprettyjjx @mystic-232

699 notes · View notes

mrwinterr · 5 years ago

Text

Slippery, Smooth

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky gets a different kind of massage.

Warnings: Smut 18+ (consensual but still unprotected sex, vaginal penetration, oral [male receiving], thigh riding, titty fuck, cum play).

Disclaimer: I want to put it out there that while nuru massages aren’t legal in the vast majority of the U.S. or the world, I’m not condoning the underlying motive of selling sex and/or prostitution. I apologize if this may offend anyone or the culture. I did my best to read about the origins and some modern experiences. A girl just watched porn and wrote this – that’s it.

** Author’s Note (8/13/20): Read a snippet of Part 2! **

“We’ll just need you both to fill out the paperwork for some information. Please check any of the services we offer then sign the waiver on the back and when you’re both done, we’ll show you to your rooms,” the young female receptionist answered with a friendly smile on her face.

Sam returns the gesture with a smile of his own and grabs the two white clipboards with the paperwork attached to them, carefully balancing the pens placed on top so they don’t roll off. On his left, was Bucky sporting a resting bitch face, clearly showing he was dragged into this before heading to a pair of unoccupied seats. The woman unbothered by his sour demeanor pays no offense believing he’s come to the right place to relieve the stress he isn’t aware he’s been harboring.

Except Bucky really doesn’t want to be here at the spa. He just happened to be caught while walking by some of his colleagues and apparently, Sam had been asking around for someone to check out the raving massage parlor on the market with him, but mostly because it was much more of a discount to book for two than one.

With some convincing from his more levelheaded companions, suggesting Bucky continue to go out and experience more modern things while also participating in the act of self-care, he begrudgingly agreed.

“Man, hurry up. Did you forget how to spell your name?” Sam nudged at him seeing as Bucky hadn’t even filled out the first line before putting the cap back on his pen, signaling he had completed his paperwork.

“Shut up. I don’t even want to be here.” Bucky mumbled enough just for Sam to hear. It wasn’t the establishment’s fault that he felt bothered.

He let out a big sigh, filled out the basic information and skimmed at the options of the services provided. His face scrunched. There were all kinds of massages that he hadn’t heard of and some were even in different languages. Luckily, this place offered a brief description of each type.

“Barnes!” Sam, who was standing in front of the receptionist desk again, said with a now firmer tone and sending Bucky a hard look. He was getting impatient. Bucky shook his head and looked back down at the paper. Try something new. He reminded himself.

Feeling slight pressure and the practical idea of the sooner he got through with this part of the process the sooner he’d be out of this place, Bucky hastily checks off something near the middle, a different type of massage he thought sounded nice. They all sounded nice, but there were so many, he didn’t bother to finish reading through or retain any significant aspects on each of them as they all became a jumbled mess of terms in his brain. Afterall, a massage is designed to make one feel good anyways. How far south could the option he selected go?

A few more minutes went by until another woman from behind the desk emerges and calls for the two men. The receptionist bids them a good time and carries on with the next guest. To both of their relief, Bucky and Sam are placed in separate rooms.

Guess he picked a different massage. Bucky thought to himself and looked around the dim lit room. Its walls adorned with tasteful foreign artwork, different sized candles and infused with a refreshed yet soothing scent that began overtaking his senses. The place was pristine.

The employee who escorted him to this room sets the clipboard on the nearby table and instructs Bucky to prep himself with a shower that was located in the corner. Before he could ask why that was a significant part of the massage, she told him once he was done washing himself, to lie on the massage table with only his towel on and to wait for his actual masseuse, who would arrive shortly, then she left closing the door behind her.

Not wanting to think too much into it, believing perhaps it was part of the experience or this place was just super hygienic, Bucky doesn’t waste time. The masseuse could walk in any moment, so he proceeds to undress, open the clear shower door and step in.

A few months ago, aside from the people he worked with or the ones he fought against, no one would be caught alone with Bucky – especially in a vulnerable state such as being half naked and with his metal arm on display. It took a lot of self-therapy and confidence and just plain not giving a fuck anymore mindset, but now here he was letting a complete stranger touch him and take more than a peek and gander at his body. If the doctors could see him now. On top of that, there had to be a level of professionalism here anyways, he was in good hands.

Once he’s thoroughly clean, he wraps the white, fluffy towel around his waist before hopping onto the massage bed. It was big, almost like it was built for two. That was a strange thought, but nonetheless he chose to also not dwell on that and was grateful it was big enough for his burly body. He scoots around a bit to find the center and lies down, trying to relax.

He turned his head to the side, eyes wandering at the counter full of supplies – massage oils, rocks, towels, soap, a box of condoms, gloves, more towels…wait. A box of condoms? What the hell? Bucky thought now a little puzzled before turning his head back to stare at the ceiling in front of him. He closes his eyes and tries to calm his nerves once more.

Just before Bucky dozed off, as if on cue, he hears the door open and quietly close with an extra click. You finally arrived. He peeks an eye open to see the back of your figure, hair tied loosely and in a short white robe. It clung on your body different, it had to be of silk. He opens both eyes just as you turn around.

You quickly glance at his clipboard before finally fixing your eyes on your next client. His metal arm certainly didn’t go unnoticed, but that wouldn’t be a problem at all. It might sound mean, but it was one less limb to work on. All that shoved aside, he was athletically built and geez, was he a sight. Keep it together. You began telling yourself over and over. You’re a professional.

It wasn’t likely you did these kinds of massages, nor did you partake in paid sexual services just strictly intent on the art of touch and healing, but this type paid handsomely, and the lights didn’t have to be on all the way to let you see that handsome was indeed right in front of you too. You introduced yourself to the man on the massage bed but got no response.

A quiet one. You thought, but quickly shrugged it off and decided to get right to it by pulling at the end of a tassel in the knot tied around your waist to begin disrobing.

Bucky, not anticipating interacting or to be touched intimately by someone so pretty was gravely distracted, it wasn’t until he saw the skin of your cleavage that he snapped out of it.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Bucky exclaims sitting up, “what are you doing?”

With a confused expression, you simply replied, “disrobing?” Then wearily proceeded to part the material to the side, but before you could reveal anything else, you heard another plea to stop.

“Wh-why?” Bucky was having a hard time trying to formulate words with the swell of your breasts peeking from behind your robe now in his view.

You turned and cocked your head a bit, still perplexed by his questions, “because it’s part of the massage.”

“Wha…what? Isn’t the person getting the massage supposed to be the one that’s…naked?” His mind was in a frenzy and that was kind of annoying you.

“For a simple massage, yes.”

“What are we doing then?” He asked incredulously.

“A nuru massage.”

“Nuru massage?”

“Yes. A nuru massage is when one massages the other person’s body with their own.” You explained as calmly as you could. He was getting increasingly agitated and your job was to help others relax not add onto the stress.

Bucky shook his head frantically and looked away from you to stop his eyes from wandering too long on your body. He could tell you didn’t have anything else underneath. “This has to be a mistake. You must have the wrong room.”

You scoffed, covering yourself up again and snatching the clipboard on the nearby counter. “Aren’t you…James B. Barnes?” You skim over it before asking and turning the clipboard to prove to him that you were in the right room assigned to him.

He craned his neck forward to inspect the piece of paper he held not too long ago, his messy handwriting complete with his illegible signature staring right back at him.

“Well, yeah…”

“Then I have the right room and you checked off for a nuru massage.” You say crossing your arms as he took the clipboard from your hands to read more about what the massage actually entails.

“This-this can’t be legal though.” He said shaking his head and thinking about how it could even be acceptable for this kind of service without eliciting some sort of sexual stimulation from the other party. Bodies gliding against each other? It just couldn’t possibly go smooth or well…work.

“It’s not…” you replied like it’s a known fact but then were quick to respond seeing his eyes widening in overreaction, “in most areas of the world but it’s absolutely legal here!”

“But it’s basically pros-“ he didn’t even finish that last sentence catching himself when he saw your now offended expression.

Does this asshole really think he is going to just sit there and get away with downright calling you a prostitute?

“You don’t know shit about me,” you spat. Handsome or not, deciding he wasn’t as openminded as most people and harshly tied a new knot to the robe you were still wearing signaling you were about to walk out. He wasn’t worth the few extra digits to your paycheck.

“No! Wait!” He pleaded; guilt ridden. As he let out a deep sigh, you stayed put to hear him out, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that. You’re right! I don’t know shit about you, but I also don’t know what a nuru massage is. I came here with a friend to help him get a good deal and I clearly wasn’t paying attention to what I signed up for.”

You nodded and decided to be civil since he was owning up to his mistake. “Okay. Apology accepted. I see why you freaked out, but you’re clearly not comfortable with the idea of this,” you responded while your hands helped convey your words, “so I can see what I can do to get you a refund,” and walked over to him to retrieve the clipboard.

It would’ve taken a significant blow to your pay – losing a client for the day – but you weren’t going to put anyone in a situation they weren’t familiar or comfortable with.

“Well…” He spoke up, placing his right hand on top of yours causing you to look up at him.

Wow, his eyes. They held the same color that reminded you of the kind water in a pool could reflect. The soothing kind of blue. You felt like you were glued to the spot, almost hypnotized.

“I mean I’m already here. I don’t want to take any business away from you. Again, I’m sorry I overreacted. What’s life without experience, right?”

And that deep voice... Shit, snap out of it! Remember, you’re a professional.

You gave him a small smile for his change of heart and willingness to try something new.

“Right,” you said forcing yourself to look away. Fuck, I hope I wasn’t staring for too long, “but I’m letting you know now, this isn’t a normal massage,” daring to look back at him for reassurance, “if at any moment you’re uncomfortable, we can change things up. Afterall, I’m very good with my hands.” You hoped to regain your composure with that last line. It wasn’t a lie though.

Bucky sends you a smile of his own before letting you go to lie back down properly, waiting for the next move. You cautiously disrobed without any protest from him. You noticed Bucky visibly swallowed the thick lump in his throat now that you were completely nude in front of him.

“Are you okay?” You were going to have to be patient with this one. He wasn’t going to be like any other you treated. It was easy for you to just stand there naked and you weren’t bothered by nudity at all, but that doesn’t mean everyone else is.

With a nod of his head, you reached for the towel to untuck the bunched-up portion at the side of his waist, mindful to not expose him of the slightest to spare him some modesty, while asking him to move just enough to let it rest on his body and cover his lower half like a blanket would.

You decided to let him keep his towel on for the time being and focus on his upper body. Next, you instructed him to turn and lie on his stomach, you’d start with his back first. You lifted the towel in a modest manner like you would for anyone so he could maneuver with ease. Once he settled in a comfortable position, you began the treatment.

“The word nuru stems from the Japanese term for slippery or smooth.” Talking to your clients was a technique most in your line of profession use to help distract or relax them to get the job done – that and it’s just good customer service showing that you care and know just what the fuck you’re doing.

You expertly jumped up onto the small space left on the bed to get into a straddling position on your knees hovering just over the small of his back and covered ass. Judging by the hump, it kind of looked nice to sit on.

“I’m going to start by applying nuru gel all over your body and mine, but we’ll start small, alright.” You carefully poured a generous amount of the warm massage gel in the palm of your hand lathering up your arms, chest, torso, thighs and fortunately you were flexible enough to reach parts of your back, but for parts you couldn’t, would transfer off his body to yours later on.

Scooping up a bit more, you watched as the gel dropped in a fine line and pool onto his back before beginning to spread it all over the expanse of his toned body in soothing motions. You started to gently press with your knuckles on the surface his muscles.

“The gel is actually made out of natural Nori seaweed,” you started explaining the colorless and odorless substance while progressing lower on his back with both hands, digging your thumbs near the lumbar region and compressing some of your weight down. You paid attention to specific areas of the body that draws the most tension. His body became visibly lax and less strained the more you worked your magic; soon enough Bucky was sure he would be putty in your hands.

Still perched up on your knees and not wanting to slip, you took initiative and just plopped down onto his plush yet firm backside. Even if a towel remained as a barrier between you both, you felt his glutes tense up underneath you, most likely having startled him. Trying to find a way to help him relax again, you tried to comfort him with more facts.

“It has other healthful benefits such as providing great moisturization to the skin,” you leaned down on your forearms and started an up and down repetition.

Your hands then travelled to his sides and you hoped he wasn’t ticklish before they met at the back of his neck to perform the simplest of massages ever. However basic as it might’ve seemed, felt like Heaven’s touch on Bucky’s end as he couldn’t help but let out a moan of satisfaction.

You were so good at it, working out all the kinks in his neck using your skilled fingers, he had to let out an approving moan after moan with each touch that hit the spot. The elicited sound racked through his body that you felt it reverberate all the way down to your core. You were crossing over a forbidden line, but that wasn’t letting you up. You had wanted to hear and feel that again.

“You’re really tense aren’t, you?” You comment continuing your handy work into the knots around his lower neck, slowly adding more pressure and testing his limits. His response was an even louder and deeper moan. Unknowingly, it caused you to shift, more like ground, your hips against his lower body. You mentally patted yourself on the back for keeping the towel there to absorb your juices. He didn’t need to try and figure out if it was the nuru gel or the sudden wetness pooling in you that his skin was swimming in.

Then you lowered your entire body, your chest now pressed against his back. Your head was close to his, you could smell the scent of the soap the facility provided for the massage prep mixed with his own and you swore he smelled more relaxing than any stress-free candle or burning incense ever could.

Due to the close proximity, you spoke even softer right next to his ear, “the combination of the nuru gel and full body contact or the touch of another human help to release toxins from the body and boost the feelgood chemicals in the brain.”

You paired that piece of knowledge with sliding up and down his back, your hands trailing up his arms that were bent but sprawled above his hand, grasping at the front of his hands to briefly interlock them before letting them go to repeat the actions.

Deciding enough time was spent on the upper area, you carefully swung around, gathered a bit more gel and snuck your hands underneath the towel to glide up the hill of his ass. Without protest, you seized the moment and experimentally grabbed a handful of each cheek before releasing the flesh and sail further down to his muscular thighs. Oh, you wish you could see them, but reminded yourself to approach each step with caution with him.

The towel still restricted you from attending to his calves, so you pulled your hands back out and scooted up to pull the towel up from the other end and treat them with the same amount of attention. After that treatment was done, you had him revert to his original position on his back.

As he settled, you reached over to pour some more gel and help slicken his front half.

“Interesting fact, nuru massages originated in Japan as a disguise to pay for sexual services,” you say as your hands spanned across the planes of his pecs, “but nuru massages are much more than an erotic massage.”

“How so?” Bucky asked genuinely curious because he was having a hard time trying to strain his cock from hardening. Thankfully for him, you were seated on his lower abdomen and barely inches away from his member.

“Think of them as more so sensual than sexual.”

Accepting that outlook, Bucky had to ask, “how did you get into…this?”

You knew he meant performing nuru massages and not your career in general, “I took a trip to Japan during a break from studying,” you replied and now tracing the lines of his abs. That sort of action, so close to his dick, created a ghostly tingle to run down Bucky’s lower region.

Counting each one of his abs to help distract you from the twitch of his cock that he thought you probably didn’t feel hit you, you continued your story, “like you, I also didn’t know what I signed up for either.”

With your breasts out in front of him squished between your upper arms as you continued to rub him and all slick from the gel, your skin seemed ever so inviting for him to touch, but he refrained from doing so. There was really no way to avoid getting aroused with this kind of massage. He was about to give up the fight. He needed to relax, right?

“Um, how-how was…he?” He asked trying to not ask awkwardly. You smiled noting he was having a hard time trying to look at your face and not your boobs. A guy like this at your fingertips? What woman’s ego wouldn’t be boosted? You had control.

Keeping in mind he is new to this, but also that the vitality of full body contact in this massage, you treated his front half to the same tactic you used on his back by laying your body flat on his.

“She was amazing,” you answered, your face now close to his you could feel the warmth of his breath puff out as he tried to regulate his breathing. The close proximity allowing you to feel the beat of his heart. You noticed the bob of his throat to that reveal, two women all oiled up.

“She taught me a lot of moves actually.” An innocent anecdote produced a whine from Bucky that he felt ashamed of slip out. Okay, maybe you got to bring it back down. “The first time I ever performed a nuru massage, I almost slipped off the massage table!”

What you hoped for was to lighten the mood, you didn’t expect was for him to bust out laughing at you. The sudden outburst took you by surprise that you almost reenacted the shared memory, but Bucky was quick to catch you with his left arm before you fell. His arms encased around you as he turned on his back with you now lying parallel, legs between his now parted ones underneath the towel that still managed to stay on.

“Oh my God,” you said burying your face into the crook of his neck, not giving a damn that the massage gel would get on your face. That first fall from your past was one of the most embarrassing moments of your career and here you were about to relive it or perhaps create one that would top it.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Bucky said tucking you in his arms as his flesh hand ran up and down the curves of your slick back, the metal one resting just above the curve of your ass. “I’m sorry I scared you. I didn’t mean to laugh. It’s just that you’re so poised and professional, having to imagine you being that clumsy took me off guard.”

Your eyes drifted down and noticed the scarred tissue of his skin that divided the metal from him. He probably ached there sometimes. You made a mental note to fit his arm somewhere in your routine.

“I’ve never told anyone that story before,” you admitted looking at him. Your eyes lingering at his pink lips that were parted. He brushed a strand of your hair away and cupped your face. You leaned into his hand and if he didn’t know it, you were the one that was putty in his hands.

Earning yourself another beautiful smile from him you got back into position. “Do you mind?” You ask referring to the towel. Having spent some time with you and seeing a more vulnerable side, he shook his head and let you rip the towel from beneath you and drop it to the floor.

“It’s okay to get hard,” you said trying to address the elephant in the room. You watched him stammer with his words, “it’s perfectly natural. Remember, this massage is designed to tease your senses and bring your body to full ecstasy.” Your now pressed against him again, rubbing your body up and down, hands trailing upwards to let your fingers intertwine with his again.

Feeling your breasts glide up just enough to stop under his chin, he kept tilting his head back as if he was neck deep in water, but if he was being honest, he would rather just drown in them at this point. Bucky tries to remain calm even if you assured him that getting aroused during a massage was a common occurrence.

“Relax, James,” you said releasing one of his hands to cradle his head and set it in a regular position. You just made it a point to not practically motorboat the poor guy.

“It’s Bucky,” he said, “please just call me Bucky. James is too formal.”

“Okay, Bucky,” you confirm by pressing your forehead against his.

Not taking your eyes off each other, you glided down a few inches so you’re face-to-face with the junction of the skin and metal and began leaving light feather kisses to the sensitive area. Adding a little squeeze to the flesh hand that was still in your grasp, Bucky felt his heart soar a bit. You, so unperturbed by the once traitorous appendage, were so gentle and the level of intimacy you carried, he wondered if you were like this to your other clients. He felt like a damn fool for falling for your every move.

“Are most of your clients men?” Bucky wondered.

“No. I don’t limit my services to just men. Most times, my favorite are the women. Nuru is open for anyone of any gender or sexual orientation.”

You slithered down again until you trapped one of his thighs between your legs. Lord, give me the strength to not cum. You prayed and begun rocking your hips almost sinfully.

Fuck, was this part of her normal routine? Bucky asked himself but wouldn’t deny the combination of her wet pussy and its soft lips gliding along his thighs felt good. Not to mention the way your hands grip at the grooves of his Adonis belt, nails slightly digging into his skin, watching your hips move. He didn’t miss the look on your face, eyebrows knitted in concentration and your plump bottom lip trapped between your teeth.

“Do you enjoy this too?”

You knew what he was going for. Did you get a rise out of this? You regained control of your body and shrugged, “I mean, touch is therapeutic in some cases, but if you’re wondering, most places or depending on the masseuse have modified nuru massages.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Not everyone gets a happy ending.” You were a masseuse specialist and not in a line of sex. It was the most misconstrued thing about it. Noticing the look on his face, you concluded that he must’ve not known the term “happy ending.”

“Sex. A happy ending is what usually culminates from a nuru massage,” you cleared the air. It was adorable to see the surprised look on his face. Yet, underneath the sheen line of sweat that had built up on his forehead, Bucky was internally relieved to hear that you didn’t actually partake in any sexual penetration or acts from this type of massage.

Okay, maybe that number on his thigh wasn’t part of your routine. You’d never been that needy. Before you could fly off the edge, you didn’t even peg yourself to be a sadist and actually edge yourself. You wondered if you could fully set ethical standards aside and go through it.

You set that same leg between your breasts and strategically slid from up his thigh before stopping just below the waist to keep his rather endowed member confined.

“You know, it’s a shame the reputation that nuru massages have,” you started, pushing your boobs together with your hands. You felt his cock jolt at the contact, “the first thing that comes to people’s minds in terms of nuru is fucking porn, but nuru has its benefits.”

“Like what?” Bucky asks breathily as you started practically titty fucking him. Is she serious? Are we in a porno? He thought seeing as there’s no way he was going to not cum any second.

“Yeah. Believe it or not, it’s proven to help couples spice up their love lives and even repair them.”

“H-how?” He tried to keep up with conversation, but it was so hard, he was so hard, as he watched his cock disappear and reappear from between the depths of your breasts. He hoped you hadn’t noticed that his pre-cum had been aiding in the slickness as it mixed in with the nuru gel. You were warm and soft and slick…and he wasn’t even buried deep in your pussy.

“I think you can guess one of the factors, but it’s more than just a physical connection, really,” you explain and release him. You move back up, body once more parallel to his, your hands smearing more of the gel around his chest, “it allows for one to feel more comfortable in their own skin and even create new sensations.”

“Almost sounds like a spiritual journey,” he said with seriousness his eyes meeting yours.

“It can be,” you responded with. You were so close to his face again. Not sure how long you sat there staring at him, but as ironic as it was, the setting in a massage parlor, one with a purpose to help the other, you both seemed to create a new kind of tension. A tension that was almost too thick you feared it wasn’t something your hands could resolve.

You stared down at his enchanting features, soft, pink lips that were parted, cute nose, the half-lidded eyes but that still shone from the blue that managed to peek out. Your hands trailed up to touch his face. He was so tempting.

Fuck it. All caution thrown out the window, your lips crashed against his. It wasn’t bruising nor soft, but enough to cut the tension that had built up in the room. To your astonishment, he didn’t object to your advances and pressed his lips back to yours and opening up wider to let you slip your tongue in. He caught your tongue in his mouth with his lips and enclosed around the muscle, sucking on it, causing you to gasp and pull away breathlessly.

You push yourself up just enough to get a full look at him with your hands on his chest. A slight nod of his head was all you needed to dive back in. Your lips massaged against his as you both kissed with such fervor, your hands threading into the short locks of his hair slightly pulling at what you could grasp in your fingers. The echoes of his moans and the light tap of his cock that had twitched in response against your lower abdomen was a dead giveaway sign that he liked that.

However, the continue rocking of your body against his, wasn’t going to help alleviate his raging hard on. It was pressed so hard in between you, it almost felt embedded into your skin. You slithered back down, leaving a trail of kisses from the column of his neck, chest – even managing to teeth at one of his nipples tauntingly – the line between his abs until you were met with the tip of his cock, which was unashamedly leaking.

You jeered around his head, placing lightweight kisses down the side of his cock, purposely avoiding the large vein on the underside, to his balls. Your eyes never leaving Bucky’s, who had his head propped under his flesh arm to watch you. Your hands still slick with the gel, you started to fondle him before taking them, one at a time, in your warm, wet mouth to gently suck on.

You weren’t sure who lost the staring contest this time between you two, but his head lulled back at the sensation and yours closed shut, full of him and savoring the taste of his skin. Pulling away with a pop, you wrapped a hand around his shaft to let his cock stand at full attention.

Bucky finally opened his eyes and picked his head back up to look at you just in time to watch you smear his pre-cum all over your lips and swallow him. You downed as much of his cock as you could before hollowing your cheeks and coming back up with your tongue dragging across the underside of him, bobbing up and down.

Without a warning, you pull away for a brief moment, a string of mixed fluids leave a web trail from him to you, “It’s okay to touch me, Bucky,” you say stroking his cock but also noticing his hands had been gripping onto the edge of the bed and hoping to encourage him to fully give in to his desires.

Bucky didn’t need to be told twice as his hands found purchase in your hair pushing you back down his cock. He let out a loud groan when he felt the tip of your nose bury in the soft hairs of his happy trail. You weren’t expecting that kind of aggression from him, it caused you to involuntarily gag around him. Your throat constricting around his cock only caused him more indisputable pleasure he jut his hips up, lodging himself even further.

When you pulled away again, this time with your own saliva and his cum dribbling down your chin, your eyes were slightly red and tearstained. Your ragged breathing, lips glistening and swollen, hair matted against your face. You looked so fucked, so raw.

He pulled you up to him once more, your legs instinctively setting on either side of him, your dripping cunt hovering just over his cock that lied resting on his stomach. He wiped at your chin before kissing you, his tongue darting all around the wet cavern of your mouth and tasting himself. Something about that was so filthy yet so erotic.

Your legs spread further apart, and you pressed yourself against his cock. The contact causing you both to draw out loud moans. You did your best to drag your sopping folds along his stiff member, but the bed had become so slippery, you were finding it hard to pull yourself back up on your knees. Bucky must’ve picked up on the small struggle as he grabbed handfuls of your ass to help aid you in sliding your pussy up and down his cock.

You could feel just how hard he was and the underside and ridges of the head of his cock scraping against your clit, pulled all sorts of tremors from your body. You were a whimpering mess, clinging onto Bucky’s body trying to find your footing, but your senses were on overdrive.

“I know, it’s your job to make me feel good,” he said continuing to rut up against you, “but go ahead…just let go.” Oh, how he would love to watch you unravel and you weren’t one to deny him. You wildly came undone, from the buildup of riding his thigh and now this, you gushed all over his cock.

Wrecked, you knew this was far from over. Once you reclaimed control of your senses, Bucky at your full attention, you snaked a hand between your bodies and lifted yourself up to position his eager cock at your entrance.

“Tell me, Bucky,” you said trying your best to dominate the situation and started teasing yourself, “…do you want a happy ending,” you asked seductively, licking his lips and your eyes never leaving his.

His heartbeat accelerated with each running pass of the tip of his cock made through your folds. If his ending was right here on this massage bed, he’d take it because you were a fucking tease. The string of curses that flowed out his mouth caused a smirk to form on your lips.

You felt his metal hand grab yours shoving it away, enough of your teasing, he repositioned himself at your hole, gripped your hips and slid right in you with ease. You internally applauded the designers of the building for making each room soundproof because let’s face it, no one wants to hear how good the person next door is feeling – especially not like this, not the sounds you and Bucky were producing.

Each slide up and down his thick length, Bucky found himself almost fully engulfed by your breasts again. He stopped you for a moment so he could finally get his mouth on them, but you weren’t about to catch a break. No. Bucky instead planted his feet on the bed and began thrusting up into you almost too vigorously, but you sucked it up. Letting him use you to work out his frustrations.

Then you sat up, hands sprawled on his chest and started grounding your hips. The way his cock swiveled with each rotation you made, had you reeling as the tip just barely kept hitting that spot.

Bucky straightened out his legs from behind you and managed to sit up, cradling the small of your back and gently laying you down.

“Slow down, baby,” he says trying to contain the relentlessness drive you had on fucking him by keeping your hips at bay, so he pulled out resulting in a displeased noise to come out of you.

He just needed to get into a new position, on his knees, your right leg hoisted up on his shoulder while he pushed down on the other to spread your legs further apart, just for him to easily plunge back into your wet heat and drawing out long and satisfied moans from you both.

“Fuck, it feels so good. You’re so good, Bucky,” you whined.

“I’m supposed to be saying that to you,” he chuckled almost breathlessly, coming down and placing his lips on yours with a kiss that had your head swimming. He pulled back to take a look down, loving the sight of him snug inside your warm walls. With his flesh hand, he pressed his fingers onto your clit, rubbing harsh circles, you grabbed and clawed at his forearm at the immense pleasure, eyes widening because it was proving to be too much.

The twisting coil that was settling in you suddenly snapped. With a loud rough moan, you were uncontrollably quaking beneath him, you knew Bucky couldn’t be far away from you. His bruising grip on your thighs and the faltering thrusts of his hips from your walls squeezing at him repetitively, he finally let go, emptying himself until he was sure he was completely spent. Fuck, and you loved feeling his cum shoot deep in you.

Watching his abdominal muscles contract with every breath, he pulled out and tried to regain his breathing, but before he could collapse, he used his last remaining ounce of strength to pull you up and back down with him on the other end of the massage bed.

“Are you okay?” Bucky asks you this time short of breath. You managed to let out a tiresome laugh and pathetically slapped his chest, but knew it was to no avail with what little energy you had left.

Several moments later, you both had calmed down and were prolonging the inevitable end. Bucky watched as you absentmindedly traced the outline of his metal arm. He longed for someone that was raw in nature, confident and there you were – walking into his life by mistake. He wasn’t sure where you stood aside from a physical standpoint, but he strangely craved for more.

You managed to stand back up on your own feet and drag Bucky back into the shower to clean off. You helped each other wash off the gel and mixed juices, with a few kisses shared here and there riddled along with soft sweet praises.

After helping you wipe down the bed and tidy up the room, Bucky couldn’t help but realize he felt good. Gone was the grumpy man that came against his own will. He definitely felt refreshed and his body felt great. This place really was all that it cracked up to be and he was just lucky enough to be assigned to you.

“What?” You asked catching him starting just as you slipped your robe back on.

“I want to see you again,” he says getting up from the bed.

You smiled at that. No one has ever made you feel that good. Your bodies seemed to be in sync with one another. Plus, during that last shower, you deduced that he could be a big softie when he wanted to be.

You wanted to see him again too and you would let him.

Once Bucky stepped back into the lobby, his peace of mind was shattered when he heard Sam yell. “Finally!” He watched as his friend threw the magazine he wasn’t really reading aside and stand up with a loose smile on his face. “How do you feel, man?”

“Amazing.” Bucky’s tone was audibly smoother and calm as opposed to earlier.

“Good! You were in there for a long time. I don’t know what massage you chose, but whatever they did on you...I’m glad it knocked out that attitude of yours,” he says as if he didn’t have one before his massage.

“Whatever. You’re exaggerating.”

“I even left to get something to eat and you were still in there!”

Shit. Were you both really that long? Was that normal? To Bucky it didn’t seem so. In fact, he wanted more time with you.

They both approach the same receptionist from earlier, who now donned a subtle smug disposition seeing the change in complexion on Bucky.

“Would you like to leave a tip?” She asked Bucky politely and just before he could say yes, he was interrupted.

“Oh, he’s good! He’s all taken care of,” you quickly interjected, popping out of nowhere and effectively grabbing Bucky’s attention one more time with a sweet smile. You wanted to be the last thing he saw when he walked out that door. Bucky didn’t even hear Sam ask how in the world he got you as his masseuse.

Your co-worker nodded understandingly before turning to Sam to ask if he’d like to book another visit.

“Yeah…when is she next available?” Sam asks the receptionist while looking at you. You hadn’t managed to only grab Bucky’s attention, but also his friend.

How Bucky hadn’t noticed it before everything was beyond him. You had a certain glow that was very alluring. He wondered if it was possible for anyone to look away from you or not smile in your presence.

Something Bucky failed to conceal was the rising discomfort he was feeling hearing the suggestive tone in Sam’s voice when speaking about you mixed with a small bubble of anxiety on if there was a possibility that he’d get to be alone in a room with you.

Before Sam could get a definite answer, you looked to your co-worker at the front desk, grinned at each other and then back over at the two men.

“I’m sorry, sir, but I’m booked,” sending a wink towards Bucky and disappearing to the back.

A/N: I work in digital marketing and what with all the searching I did I’m now paranoid that I’ll be targeted for a massage…even though I could use one. I did my best to proofread. Let me know if you liked it!

#mrwinterr writes #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfic #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan fanfic #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan x y/n #marvel fic #marvel fanfic #slippery smooth

2K notes · View notes

sinnaminsuga · 4 years ago

Text

Title: Money Counter Part 2

Summary: Just the filthy continuation of the first part of this mess

Word Count: 2629

Warnings: smut, power struggle, slapping, choking, rough sex, a tad violent, a little blood, daddy!kink, i think that's it if i missed something let me know!

A/N: hello again! the beautiful @connieisland popped into my messages and inspired me to make a part 2 to my latest fic and this is what i came up with! feedback is appreciated! thank you for reading! ❤️

Link To Part 1: right here

Tags: @october505 @infinite-shite @hope-to-hell @inlovewithhisblueeyes @littlefreya @viking-raider @wolvesandhoundshowltogether @foodieforthoughts @raspberrydreamclouds @wendimydarling @oddsnendsfanfics @its--fandom--darling @the-soot-sprite @connieisland @feralrunaway @oddduckthatgirl

There was no mistaking the groan and shudder that ran through that dangerous man’s body when you spoke softly into his ear. “Now. Let's talk about your punishment for doubting me. You'll be a good boy for me, won't you darling?”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Henry’s grip tightened on your waist. “I demand control in all aspects of my life. I don't give that up easily.” he growled.

“So I'll just take. What. I. Want.” you hissed, shoving him backwards swiftly, his broad back hitting the sturdy wood of the table with a muted thud. His eyes widened in surprise at the quick change of his position. Before he could really even adjust, you straddled his waist and leaned down to suckle at the soft tender skin of his neck. You wedged your hands between the already straining buttons of his dress shirt and pulled as hard as you could, sending the buttons flying in every direction. Henry groaned as your lips continued their assault down his now bare chest. You moved slowly and lapped at the skin above his waistband as your hands palmed at his solid length through his pants.

“Well fuck! Are you going to do something or what? I'm dying here!” He all but whined, hands scrabbling for purchase, meeting nothing but loose hundred dollar bills. You giggled to yourself as you fondled him, doing no more and no less than you had been. His hands crumpled the copious amounts of money and as he became frustrated with your lack of desire to do anything but fuck with him, he threw the cash as a feral scream tore from his throat.

Suddenly you were the one at a loss for words as your body was pulled up and flipped over onto your back, thrown into the position Henry was just in. Henry hovered above you, eyes frantically scanning your dress clad form. “Too much.” was all he ground out, not unlike a caveman, before using one hand to tear your dress right down the middle, and making quick work of your panties as well. “HENRY! Do you know how much that dress cost?!” You shrieked, slamming your fists into his chest.

He caught your flailing limbs and pinned them on either side of your head. “Don't care. Get you a new one later. Fuck baby, I can smell you. Like raspberries. And sugar.” Henry moaned lowly, running his nose along your jugular, sharp teeth grazing over your buzzing skin. You couldn't stop the shiver that wracked your body, your sensitive core pulsing around nothing.

“Needy little thing aren't you? You want me? Tell me you do. Because I want you. More than anything. Say you want me, want this, and I’ll take you to levels of ecstasy you’ve never even thought of. Would you like that?” Henry whispered, his knuckles running over your steadily weeping entrance. You whined out a “yes”, lifting your hips looking for friction.

As soon as he got your permission, Henry was on you, his thick strong tongue diving into your lush cavern. You fell victim to his honey coated tongue and soft hums rumbling from his chest. He repeatedly flicked his tongue over your sensitive clit with the vigor of a starving man, pulling sugar sweet moans from your throat. He used his thumbs to pull your folds apart and marvel at the depraved sight that was your aching cunt. You flinched a bit when you felt the pads of Henry’s fingers ghosting over your most sensitive place. He ran his fingers through the sticky sweet slick dripping from you, coating them thoroughly before raising them to his mouth and sucking them clean. The animalistic growl that tore its way out of him was something you’d never grow tired of hearing. When he sank his tongue back into you and curled it in such a way that it rubbed against that spongy flesh inside you, your hand flew to his thick mass of curls atop his head. You could feel him grin against your damp flesh before he lifted his gaze to meet yours.

“Come on sweetheart. Beg me for it. Beg me to cum.” He hissed with a grin. The smile on his face wavered just a fraction when he felt your sharp nails dig into his scalp, sending sparks of pain shooting down his spine.

Tightening your fist around the handful of his hair you had in your hand, you pulled his head up and met his eyes with fury burning in yours. “Fuck you. I don’t beg for a goddamn thing. Never have. Never will.” You ground out between your teeth. Never breaking eye contact with you, he huffed out a laugh and said “Then I guess, I'll just. Take. What. I. Want.”

With a speed you've never experienced, you were flipped over onto your stomach, breasts mashed against the now forgotten money. You attempted to push yourself up onto your forearms but Henry’s broad hand quickly shoved you back down. The lack of control agitated you and you turned as much as you could in his grasp, wriggling your way into a half turned position. Henry attempted to turn you back onto your front and your palm connected with his cheek with a resounding CRACK that echoed in the room.

The force of the slap you delivered had split his lower lip after it collided with his bottom teeth. Henry brought his thumb to his mouth to assess the wound, blood coating his fingertip. You raised an eyebrow at him as if to say “What are you going to do about it?”. A wicked grin split his face, baring his glittering white teeth to you. “Oh you little bitch! You asked for it.” Henry bellowed, his hands once again finding your waist and manhandling you to your front where he had you before. The only difference was his massive hand pressing the side of your face into the wood of the table.

The metal clanging of his belt coming undone sent your body into a frenzy, your pussy clamping down hard around nothing but air. The soft rustle of fabric being pulled down was followed by the sound Henry moaning just a bit as his hand made contact with his engorged manhood. You managed to turn your head under his hand just to get a glimpse of his glorious cock. You knew it would be massive, no one carried themselves around like Henry did if they weren't packing some serious heat.

His erection stood proudly at the apex of his thighs and you shuddered at what you saw next. He held his length out steady, and let a mouthful of spit pour out from between his pillowy lips to land directly onto his shaft. He wiped the excess drool from his mouth with the back of his hand before using it to pump himself, his own spit slicking the way. You keened, watching him intently. When he was ready, he leaned in close so his mouth was against the shell of your ear and his tip notched against your opening.

“I want to fuck you now. But I don't know if you deserve it. Submit to me, wildling,-” you stiffened beneath him, ready to fight him off again, but he continued speaking with his hushed tone. “-and I’ll make you touch the stars. It doesn't make you weak, to let someone else take care of you, you know. I know what you want, what you need, sweetheart but I need to hear you say it. Let me give it to you. Cmon baby.” he murmured.

You weren't ready to say anything just yet and he could tell, so he slowly slid the tip of himself into you, punching out a whimper from your chest. But then he stopped. No movement, nothing. “You can have the rest if you use your words, love. Cmon. Just say it. I gotta hear you say it. Please please please.” Henry rambled, his forehead pressed to the side of your head. Your cunt squeezed around what small piece of him had pushed inside of you, attempting to suck him in further. You burned with need, the ache almost becoming painful. You gritted your teeth, trying to wait him out for about another minute. Then you gave in, the need coursing through you taking over and making you a soft, pliant, whimpering mess. You fell limp against the table and tried to push back onto him.

“Oh god please! I cant take it anymore! I cant go another minute without you inside me! Please oh god please Henry please fuck me please I’m begging you!” you cried, begging was foreign to you and it caused shame and tears to soak your cheeks. Henry brushed your hair behind your ear as he tutted at you. “See? Was that so hard darling? I’ll give you what you need. Shhh don't cry. I'm gonna make it all better okay?” He cooed, lapping up the briney tears that streaked your face as he pushed into you. He bottomed out inside you and you howled with the feeling of being so complete. He pulled back and slammed into you again, his tip kissing your cervix.

“Jesus fucking christ woman you're so tight. Like a god damn virgin. You take me so well. Do you feel me? Here?” Henry splayed his massive hand over your lower stomach. You were unable to form coherent thoughts or words so you nodded as best you could. His palm once again slid up your back and sunk into the hair at the back of your head. He roughly yanked your head back causing you to gasp and sputter. “I'm going to fuck you like an animal. I’m not going to be nice and i'm not going to be gentle but that's what you want isn't it?” Henry spat, his hips beginning to piston his cock in and out of you at a rapid pace. He kept spewing filth into your ear as he moved in and out of you, grinding your clit against the table causing the most delicious sensation that teetered on the razor thin edge of pleasure and pain.

“I’m going to fill you up over and over and over again until your hungry little hole is spilling over with my cum. I want to see it drip out of you. Maybe I’ll give you a baby, would you like that, little one? Yeah I want to see you round with my child.” Henry spewed his heated words as his heavy length plundered your channel. Your walls squeezed him, attempting to force him out but also suck him back in at the same time. Your body moved against the table but your brain was mush. He hooked his hand under your left knee and pulled your leg up to rest on the table, opening you further. He tipped his hips at just the right angle, hitting that spot inside you causing you to scream out.

“Oh god yes Daddy!” rolled off your lips and you felt Henry’s rhythm falter.

“Oh sweetheart, I could get used to that. Say it again. Let me hear you.” he moaned.

“Fuck me Daddy! P-please! I-i need to c-cum!” you whined, pathetic and broken. Henry stopped moving for just long enough to gently turn you over onto your back, never slipping out of you. He picked up his pace once again before answering.

“Go ahead pretty girl. Cum on my cock. Yeahhhh just like that baby. Fuck! You're squeezing me so tight” he snarled, massive hands tightening and bruising your waist. You felt the coil in the pit of your stomach snap as you came around him, sparks of unbelievable pleasure shooting up your spine and radiating out to the tips of your fingers. Bliss took over your body and a strangled cry clawed it's way up your throat and out into the hot air between you two.

Henry kept fucking into you as you rode out the aftershocks of your orgasm, drawing little “Ah!” sounds from your sweet mouth. He halted his movements long enough to lift your naked form into his arms to continue fucking you while in the air. You noted the fact that you were moving around the room but you didn't know where and to be honest you didn't really care as most of your attention was firmly focused on the slick rod impaling you repeatedly. Suddenly your back met the wood of the door and Henry’s right hand snaked it's way up and settled around your vulnerable throat, applying a good amount of pressure.

“Cmon baby give me another one. I know you can. Give it to me. Give it to Daddy, yeah?” Henry barked through clamped teeth, hammering up into you harder and harder with every thrust. His hand on your throat tightened, limiting your speech. That hand left your neck and weaseled it's way between your bodies to rub fast tight little circles over your clit causing you to gasp. Henry rushed forward and licked into your open mouth and your hands flew to his shoulders, sinking your nails into the supple flesh. Neither of you realized how hard he was railing you against the door until you heard the splintering of wood and the crash of metal as the locking mechanism in the door gave way at the same time that you came around his throbbing length once again. There was now a hole in the door but neither of you gave a fuck. Henry pulled you tight against his chest and continued to piston in and out of you at a near punishing pace, now chasing his own high.

“Fuck! I-i’m gonna cum sweetheart. I’m gonna cum inside you. Fill you up real good. Put a baby in you. God fuc- shit! Oh my god!” Henry roared and thrashed like an animal as he shot deep inside you, soothing your aching womb with his seed.

He lowered you both to the ground so you were straddling his lap, still full of him. You rested your head on his shoulder, the both of you panting desperately attempting to fill your lungs with the sex-thick air. Henry's fingers danced up your spine as you relaxed against him.

“We made quite the mess, young lady.” he mumbled, nudging you to turn your head and look. The money you had been tasked with counting now littered the entire room, your supplies for banding the stacks of cash strewn about the floor.

“Yes I suppose we did. Wanna make another one?” You snickered, tightening your walls around his softening length inside you. He let out a low hiss before delivering a light snack to your ass.

“Let me get you to my bedroom first, you heathen.” Henry remarked with a grin as he planted a kiss on your shoulder. “Well cmon then Daddy. Show me what else you got.” You giggled with your hands on either side of his face.

Henry’s broad frame shook with his laughter before he looked you in the eyes, his glinting with mischief. His tongue ran up the column of your throat, lapping up the salty sweat glistening on your skin before whispering “Oh I’ll show you what I’ve got darling. Don't you worry.”

Your response died on your lips as his teeth sank into the meat of your shoulder. This man had ruined you for anyone else. And you couldn't find it in yourself to even pretend to be mad about it.

THE END

#henry cavill #the cavillry #henry x reader #henry cavill smut

197 notes · View notes

august-bleeds-red · 4 years ago

Text

Carnival Lights

(Bo Sinclair x AFAB!Reader)

Bo makes a stranger’s ride on the Ferris wheel more than an average trip to the carnival.

WARNINGS: Non-con, forced orgasm (NSFW below the line).

It was your first blind date since you were sixteen. The guy was twenty-three and already a junior partner in a prestigious law firm, and dull as paint. But, even discounting his handsome face and impeccable manners, your mom would never forgive you if you messed up on the first date. He’d opted out of riding the wheel with you, confessing a fear of heights that prevented him scaling anything higher than a stepladder, and had stepped away to pick up snacks for when you descended.

The Ferris wheel had always been your favourite ride as a kid, back when your dad used to take you to the carnival, and you really wanted at least one ride before the night ended – for old time’s sake. You didn’t care if it made you look weird to ride alone.

The wheel is an old-fashioned one with round, metal-roofed cars, with seats sitting opposite each other. Thankfully, it doesn’t tilt too far with just your weight to balance it.

“Just you?” the attendant asks. You nod.

He’s just about to close the door and secure it when someone speaks up:

“Excuse me, y’all mind if I ride with you?”

He’s a handsome, dark-haired man in his thirties, with a lazy Louisiana drawl, dressed comfortably in work pants and a navy button-down shirt, an old red-and-white trucker cap sticking out of his back pocket. His face is friendly, eyebrows raised in hope as he awaits your response.

“Oh . . . I, uh . . .”

You’re not sure your date would appreciate you sitting in such a confined space with a strange guy you just met, but the attendant is looking at you impatiently, so you panic and shrug in consent. The guy smiles and takes the seat opposite you, the car bouncing a little at the change in weight. His legs are long, his knees almost brushing yours, but he keeps his hands at a respectable distance in his lap. The attendant fastens the door shut and the car trundles a few feet along to allow the next passengers. You know it’s gonna take a while – they need to fill up every car before setting the wheel to spin freely. Which means you’re sitting with this guy for at least the next ten minutes.

“Name’s Bo,” he says, holding out a hand to you.

“Um . . . Y/N,” you reply, accepting the handshake politely. His hand is big, his palm warm against yours.

“Figured we might as well get acquainted if we’re stuck in this tuna can together,” he reasons.

“Yeah,” you grin nervously, not wanting to point out that you’re only “stuck” because it was his idea to join you.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I’m a creature of impulse – my ma used to take me and my brothers on this wheel when we were little kids, an’ I saw you sittin’ alone and, I dunno, you just looked like a nice girl, so I took a shot.”

“No, it – it’s okay,” your smile grows more genuine. “My dad used to take me on this wheel too, every time the carnival came into town.”

He smiles, his eyes fixed on your face. He has an intense, dark stare, his brown eyes barely blinking. “So you here by yourself?”

“No, my date’s around here somewhere.”

“Well, that’s a little weird,” Bo says. “Leavin’ you to ride alone?”

“Heh, yeah,” you shrug. “Doesn’t like heights.”

Bo snorts and mutters something that sounds like, “Pussy.” You can’t help but giggle.

The car has now elevated far enough from the ground as to make disembarking impossible. You gaze down at the sprawling carnival lights, illuminating the stalls, food carts and rides in a soft, golden glow.

You don’t speak up when Bo shifts in his seat, edging closer to you so your knees touch. The car is small – there’s no reason to make a fuss for what could just be an honest mistake. Until his fingertips brush against the crown of your kneecap.

“Kinda irresponsible, really,” he says, his voice lowering. “Leavin’ a little lady as cute as you unaccompanied.”

Would it be rude to ask him to stop talking? Or at least to move his hand? His fingers are definitely rubbing the inside of your knee now, his gaze hot in a way that proves he knows exactly what he’s doing.

You’re just about to say something, when he ‘casually’ shifts in his seat, lifting his trouser leg high enough for you to see the handle of a knife tucked into his heavy boot. Your blood runs cold and you press your lips together. His hand slides further up your leg until his whole palm is resting on your thigh.

“I know if it were me,” he purrs, “I wouldn’t let you outta my sight for a moment.”

Your fingers are shaking, your skin beginning to prickle.

“Please . . .” you whisper, your voice barely more than a breath.

He grins. “Please what, princess?”

“I . . .” you swallow around the lump rising in your throat. “Please don’t hurt me.”

He laughs. “Then you’ll do what I say, won’t cha?”

He eases the knife from his boot and pockets the guard protecting the blade, tracing the dull edge down the soft skin of your thigh. One false move, one flick of his wrist, and you’d be bleeding out all over the car floor. He leans across and uses the blade to dislodge the straps of your dress.

“Let’s see them gorgeous tits,” he says. Reaching across, he pulls at your neckline, revealing the strapless bra you’re wearing underneath. “Oh, honey – d’you wear that just for me?” Slipping his fingers inside the blue lace cup, he releases one of your breasts and squeezes roughly. You whimper, clapping a hand over your mouth when the knife twitches in his hand.

“Look at these pretty little nipples,” he flicks his thumb over one, smiling when it hardens at his touch. “Why, they’re already pleased to see me, aren’t they?”

Cursing your treacherous body, you shut your eyes and wince as he scoops your other breast free, jiggling the soft flesh.

“God damn, these puppies look sweet enough to eat,” he moans, leaning in and lapping at one nipple with his tongue. You cringe away from him, gasping when he takes a firm grip on the back of your head.

“Now,” he murmurs, “you’re gonna come sit on my lap, right? We’re gonna have a little fun. Easy, nice and slow – don’t wanna draw too much attention now, do we?

Hating your own cowardice, you shift from your seat and turn, letting Bo settle you against his clothed erection. You can feel it through the fabric, digging into your ass. The car stays at an inconspicuous angle, the cars below, above or opposite you none the wiser as to what’s going on.

Bo keeps one hand on your breast, squeezing and pinching, the other strays further downwards. The knife is stowed away back into his boot, but you already know better than to make a grab for it.

“Let’s see just how much of a good girl y’really are,” he whispers in your ear, teeth biting at the side of your neck. A shiver runs through you, and you can tell he feels it by the way his lips curl against your skin. The tips of his fingers brush your panties and you close your eyes in shame at how damp they are. You’ve always had sensitive breasts, and the way he’s sucking and teething at your skin is only making it worse. Nudging aside the silky fabric, you gasp when his thick, calloused fingers trace the outline of your pussy.

“Ahh, there we go,” he shifts a little, spreading your thighs further apart with his knees. “Just look how wet y’are for me. You’re just a little slut, ain’t cha?”

His fingers push past your folds, rubbing at your clit and making your legs tremble. He slips in up to the first knuckles of his index and middle fingers, his thumb circling your clit with a practiced movement.

“Y’like the way my fingers feel in you, you little whore?” he growls in your ear. “Fuck, you’re soakin’ wet. Bet you wish you could take my hard fuckin’ cock in that sweet little cunt, huh? Ride me ‘til I fill you up with cum, you dirty fuckin’ slut.”

He forces another finger inside you, tilting his wrist to allow them to sink in right to the hilt. You stretch around his digits, your slick walls inviting him in further. Why is this happening? Why are you so turned on? Your heart flutters in the cage of your chest and you bite your lip to keep from moaning.

“Thaaaat’s it,” Bo croons, quickening pace. “You love it, don’t you, you little whore? You love havin’ my fingers all up in your cunt.”

You shake your head and the hand molesting your breast takes a firm hold of your jaw. He turns your head to face him and your lips are assaulted – his tongue staining your mouth with the faint taste of tobacco. Your pussy is liquid in his hands, the warm whispers of pleasure building steadily in your lower stomach.

“You’re gonna fuckin’ cum for me,” he growls. “Y’hear that, bitch? You’re gonna cum on my fingers like a slut. C’mon, gimme that goddamn cunt. Show how much you love bein’ fingered like a cheap whore.”

Bitch. Slut. Whore. The poisonous words hang in the air around you.

“Tell me you wanna cum,” he demands. “Beg me to make you cum.”

“I— I can’t . . .” you whimper. You don’t think you could live with yourself if you stooped to that level of indignity. Then he stops and the sky comes crashing down around your ears. “F-fuck—!”

“Tell me what I wanna hear, baby.” He moves his fingers again at a brutal pace, the friction against both your clit and G-spot almost too much to bear. It’s growing, reaching such a pitch as to make your ears ring.

“Fuck, please . . .” you screw your eyes shut against what you feel is the judgment of the world. “Please . . . make me cum—”

“Say my name, bitch,” he growls. “Tell me who this fuckin’ cunt belongs to.”

“Bo! Y-you . . . my . . . it belongs to you . . . oh God, Bo, please, please—”

At the last moment, as you feel your walls contracting, he shoves two fingers in your mouth, grunting with satisfaction as you bite down to prevent yourself crying out from the most intense orgasm you’ve ever experienced. He chuckles darkly in your ear, his fingers making an obscenely wet sound as they withdraw from you.

He allows you to reassemble yourself before the wheel has completed its final loop. You run a hand through your tangled hair and wipe away the smears of mascara beneath your eyes, while he sucks the shining fluid from his fingers with apparent relish. The last few drops, however, he spares for you. You gag around the fingers he forces into your mouth, tasting the tangy flavour of your own juices.

When the attendant lets you out, Bo gestures for you to go first, like the Southern gentleman one might presume him to be at first glance. You can see your date waiting for you, a stick of cotton candy in one hand. As you reach him, he watches Bo leave the car behind you.

“Who was that?” he asks, handing you the pink cloud of spun sugar.

“No-one,” you shrug as casually as you can manage. You could tell him, now you’re free from the cage. But you don’t. And you never will.

Grinning like a cat in a dairy barn, Bo secures his cap atop his head. Catching your eye one last time, he winks, nods, and disappears into the crowd.

Inspired by a soundgasm piece by @gentlemanswitch.

#bo sinclair #bo sinclair x reader #house of wax #horror #slashers #slasher lover #slasher fandom #slasher community #slasher x reader #slasher fanfiction #slasher fanfic #lester sinclair #vincent sinclair

277 notes · View notes

sylvie-writes · 4 years ago

Text

Uncalled For

request: hey! if you take requests, i have one for Ransom Drysdale x Reader. Something like angst stuffs because the reader is pregnant with his baby. Lots and lots of feels and angsty stuffs please thank you - anon

a/n: Thanks for the request hon! I love it! sorry for the wait.

warnings: unplanned pregnancy, nervous first-time father Ransom, angst but it turns to fluff!

summary: this story is quite deceiving hehe. I can’t say anything or it will ruin the element of my mini surprise. (lmao I can’t write plot twists without solving them right away.)

Pardon any mistakes!

Ransom Drysdale, the man who was your boss turned boyfriend.

In the beginning, you were his glorified maid working under the title of personal assistant.

Although the man was a mess, he was good to you. Even when you weren’t dating.

For a few years you’ve worked for Ransom, but recently the two of you have started dating.

It was nice no longer having to drive around your ass to get to your elbow just trying to show up at his house on time for work.

Now you spend your mornings waking up under Ransom’s heavy arm that protectively laid over your waist.

Needless to say he was a changed man, and was now taking the whole “dating thing” seriously.

One morning you woke up, the urge to rush to the bathroom becoming stronger.

Unable to contain your nausea anymore, you hurriedly threw off Ransom’s arm waking the man, who saw you in a panic.

Your figure flashed passed him, causing the man to throw off the bed covers and storm into the bathroom.

Just as he was about to give you an earful for the theatrics, he saw your head thrown over the toilet bowl, awful sounds falling from your lips.

At the sight, he squatted down, holding your hair from your face and rubbing your back soothingly.

Once the contents of your stomach were emptied, you sat back, Ransom standing to get you a glass of water.

You leaned against the wall, feeling absolutely disgusting. Slurping the water, you knew the reason for all of this happening.

All of your previous symptoms came together in your mind, forming the conclusion that you were pregnant.

“Hey angel, how are you feeling?”

Ransom sat on the floor beside you, placing a hand on your forehead.

Somewhat irritated, you pushed his hand away, shaking your head.

“I feel like shit.”

There was no sign of amusement on your face, and Ransom just nodded.

“What do you think caused this?”

He was absolutely clueless, causing you to bitterly laugh.

“You.”

Ransom’s face contorted into annoyance and you placed a hand on his chest to calm him.

“I meant you knocked me up, Ran.”

You offered the man a small smile, who looked like his world had just been turned upside down.

Before you dated Ransom, he often had pregnancy scares with other women, but with you his reaction was different.

With those women, he just threw money at them, leaving them to their own decision, but with you, he looked extremely worried.

You’d never seen Ransom like this before.

“Uh. Are you sure? Actually, no. Wait right here, I’m going to go get a test.”

Before you were given a chance to speak, Ransom just rushed out.

His demeanor had shifted and it was unreadable.

Was he mad at you? If he was, you weren’t gonna stand for it.

Whatever Ransom was feeling, you’d work with it.

If he wasn’t going to be in this child’s life, then so be it.

You were a smart woman, who could make anything work.

Twenty minutes later, Ransom came back with four different tests, all different brands.

He smiled sheepishly at you and handed you the boxes, “I wasn’t sure what to get.”

Following the instructions of each, you went to go sit on the bed with Ransom, who was staring into the abyss.

He hadn't said a word. The only thing he had done so far, was open his arm so you could lean into his side.

As you waited for the timer, Ransom ran his hand over your hair, soothing you and probably himself.

In no time, the timer went off and you walked into the bathroom. Ransom sullenly trailing behind.

You paid no mind to his attitude as he’d open up to you when he was ready.

Reading the tests, they all read positive.

Excitedly, you squealed and threw your arms around Ransom’s neck.

“Whoa! What does this mean? It’s negative?”

“No! It’s positive. I’m pregnant, Ransom!”

Happily, you kissed his lips, a smile on your face the whole time.

When you pulled back, Ransom looked a bit spooked.

“Hey, honey, what’s wrong? You know you can talk to me.”

Ransom just shook his head and backed away.

“Nothing. It’s nothing, I’m fine. I’ll see you later, alright?”

The man gave you a small smile and kissed your cheek, once again rushing out, and not giving you a chance to question him.

With Ransom gone you had no clue when later meant.

So, taking a deep breath, you just moved on, trying not to become angry at Ransom.

You always told yourself that you could not just assume things until you knew for sure.

For now, to keep your mind off of things, you got showered and dressed, deciding to take yourself out for lunch and some shopping.

Around four o’clock, you came home, smiling to yourself upon finding Ransom’s car back in the driveway.

Held in your hand, was a small paper bag, having found a cute little onesie for the little one at a store you visited.

On the front, inscribed were the words, “daddy’s little angel.”

He always called you that, so you only found it fitting that he’d call your baby the same.

“Ransom?”

Walking around the house, it was seemingly empty. No sounds anywhere except a strained, “shit!” coming from upstairs.

You heard the sounds of a creaking floor, something that would only come from one moving furniture.

Immediately, your mind went to the worse and you were now seeing red.

Angrily, you threw down the back and stomped up the stairs.

The guest bedroom door was slightly cracked.

‘At least he had the decency to do it in another room,’ you thought to yourself.

Getting closer to the door, you heard a muffled feminine voice, and more stings of curses from Ransom.

With great vehemence, you threw the door open, eyes shut, but with a loud yell of Ransom’s full name.

“Hugh Ransom Drysdale, I swear if I find a woman in there, she better be decent!”

“What?”

Ransom sounded utterly offended, shutting off the youtube video, and standing to pry your hands from your face.

He looked at you with a smile, holding your wrists to his lips, placing kisses on them both.

Slowly, you opened your eyes, to find his goofy grin and a remodeled guest room.

At the sight of the room, you started crying.

Happy tears to be exact.

In the guest room, the white walls were now covered in different paint swatches, bookshelves mounted on the wall, and plastic covered the carpet, protecting it from the upcoming paint job.

Behind Ransom, was an unfinished crib, and his phone playing a youtube video, showing a woman assembling the thing. (The voice you had heard through the door)

It all clicked in your head and you felt like a complete idiot.

You snuggly wrapped your arms around Ransom’s neck, starting to laugh at the misunderstanding.

“I’m sorry for being such a bitch!”

The man just tightened his grip on your waist and smooched your forehead.

“It’s okay, angel. I know I don’t have the best track record.”

He looked down shamefully and you pulled up his chin to look into your eyes.

“No, that doesn’t justify my actions. I’m sorry, Ransom, and from now on, I will put more trust in you.”

You hugged him in a loving manner, hoping to get your words through.

“Well, I’m sorry too. For running off this morning. I was just scared, but then I had this… clarity. That everything was going to be okay.”

Ransom smiled at you and placed a sweet kiss on your lips.

“I see that now,” you giggled slightly, “To see the great Ransom Drysdale building something must mean that he cares.”

“You bet your ass I do! You have no idea how draining it is to build one of those things.”

The two both of you in entire bliss, you leaned forward to place a teasing kiss on the man that you absolutely adored.

“I’m sure I can give you some motivation.”

Ransom smirked at your words, and deeply kissed you once more, walking you down the hall, still lip-locked.

Sooner or later that crib would be finished.

#ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale x reader #chris evans x reader

238 notes · View notes

karlajoyner · 4 years ago

Text

It’s Perfect (Reggie Peters x Reader)

A/n: So I wrote this up after having a mental breakdown listening to Unsaid Emily on repeat. No regrets. But yeah you guys should comment some requests!

Warnings: Mention of abuse

————

“Yeah well at least I'm not a dead beat drunk!" I yelled at my father who stood a few steps away from me with a bottle of liquor at hand.

As soon as the words left my mouth I should've known I wouldn't get away with it.

My eyes burned as I felt a stinging sensation on my cheek. I held it, in pain. Tears stinging my eyes.

"A bitch. Just like your mother was" He said taking another swig of his drink.

I quickly sprinted out the door with nothing but the clothes on my back. Hearing the man that once dried my tears when I fell on the playground shout out awful slures towards me.

I wasn't daddy's girl anymore.

I ran. I ran as far as my feet would carry me. Until I reached a familiar house 9 streets away.

I ran into the driveway quietly. Knowing Bobby's family would be asleep by now. I panted reaching for the garage doors pulling them open and running in shutting them immediately behind me.

"Y/n?" A familiar voice spoke from behind me. I turned around seeing two of my bandmates getting ready for bed. I took a few steps forward trying to steady my breath.

"I-" I didn't even get a word out before I broke down completely.

"I'll call Reggie" Luke spoke leaving out the doors I had just come from.

Presumably towards the house that had the landline.

"It's okay" Alex whispered pulling me close in a tight hug. I cried into his chest as we sunk down to the floor.

I cried for what felt like hours before the door opened once more. I looked up through blurry eyes seeing my boyfriend standing there in a white tee shirt and black jeans. With his lucky red flannel tied around his waist.

"Baby" He whispered coming to sit next to me.

"Thanks guys. I've got her from here"

"We'll give you guys some time"

"Feel free to pull out the extra air mattress for tonight" Luke said before him and Alex left the studio.

"Baby what's wrong?" He whispered in my ear pulling me close.

"I-it's my dad. I can't-I can't be there anymore. I won't" I choked out letting my tears fall freely.

"Shhh it's okay" He attempted to soothe me. Each hair stroke making me feel safer knowing he was right next to me.

Ready to protect me from anything and everything. I cried as he lifted me in his arms moving me over to the couch never releasing his tight embrace on me.

"It's not Reg. He called my mom a bitch and then called me a bitch and then he slapped me" I cried. The boys jaw clenching.

It was very rare that you saw Reggie angry but when he was it was blaintly obvious you did not want to mess with him.

"He did what?" He asked clearly aggravated.

"He laid his hands on you" He spoke again trying to stand up.

"No Reggie. Please don't leave me" I whisper holding onto him. His tensed body seemed to ease as he held me close.

"I'll never leave you baby. You know that" He said the room going silent as we enjoyed each other's company even in saddest of moments.

"Your never going back there again" He spoke after a while.

"Where will I sleep?" I asked.

"Here. Alex and Luke won't mind. Niether will Bobby. You'll move here"

"I- I don't know if that's a good idea"

"I already talked it through with the guys"

"It's true" A familiar voice spoke from the doorway.

Our heads whipped towards the door to see the rest of the band standing there with frowns upon their faces.

"We all talked about it and think it's best"

"My parents won't mind. Just like Alex and Luke your apart of the family and are welcome anytime" Bobby said as the three boys got closer.

"You're our bandmate"

"Our friend"

"Our little sister"

"And we'll protect you from anyone who hurts you" Alex finished making my eyes well up once more.

"I love you guys" I smiled as Reggie placed a kiss on my temple.

"We love you too baby. And once Sunset Curve plays the Orpheum. The first thing we'll do is buy a house where we'll have our own room. Our own privacy" Reggie said running his hand up and down my arm.

"Cool it man no need to get all hot and bothered right now" Luke said making me giggle.

"Plus I think there's something you need to do before that" Alex said winking at Reggie. I looked at the two confused as Reggie nodded his head.

"What? What does he need to do?" I asked watching smirks beginning form on my bandmates faces.

I watched as Alex ran towards the loft. His figure only becoming visible again when he threw a small object over the balcony down towards Bobby. Again I watched as he caught it tossing it towards Luke who walked it over the a Reggie.

"I was gonna wait until we got signed after our big show at the Orpheum. But some things happen for a reason I guess" Reggie spoke nervously.

I watched as he kneeled down beside me. My body immediately sitting up in worry.

"Y/n, god where do I start. We've been best friends since elementary school. And lovers for 2 years now. After I wasted way too many years trying to make you jealous instead of telling you how I felt. That was my first mistake. My second mistake was not asking you this sooner. Y/n Y/l/n will you marry me?" He asked making my eyes widen as he open a black velvet box with a beautiful ring inside.

I look around at the other boys who had smiles spread across their faces.

"I may not be the smartest, the funniest, or even the hottest of the group" He spoke playfully glaring at Luke.

"And I really don't know why you chose me out of all of us. But you did. Its all I can offer right now but if you stick through it with me I promise one day I'll give you the world" He said a smile forming on my face.

"It's perfect Reginald. Your perfect" I spoke. Taking in his beautiful features.

"So it that a yes?" I heard Alex ask. "Yes. Yes! Oh my god yes!" I yelled pulling him up for a hug.

I grinned as he slipped the ring on my finger hearing the boys around us cheering. But the only thing I was focused on was the boy in front of me.

A boy who had only been known to show me lust, compassion, and love.

I giggled as Reggie pulled me into a passionate kiss the cheering dialing down.

"She said yes!" He shouted as soon as we pulled away.

"Congrats man" Luke said patting Reggie on the back.

"You know man you should just move in too while we're at it" Bobby joked.

"No!" Luke and Alex shouted at the same time.

"We do not need them consummating their marriage a few feet away from us while we try to sleep"

"It's only a matter of time boys. We do need to do that though huh?" I joked looked at Reggie.

"I'm not complaining" He said a lopsided smile forming on his face. I giggled as the boys began to make sounds of disgust.

"We'll head to your place first thing tomorrow and get your stuff for tonight you can barrow some of my clothes" Alex spoke going to his suitcase as pulling out a pair of boxers for me to wear as shorts.

"Thanks Alex" I smiled watching as Luke and Bobby moved under the loft to pull out the extra blow up mattress there for anyone else who needed to stay the night. Which usually was usually me or even Reggie sometimes. When things got real bad at home.

"I've got her shirt" Reggie said removing his flannel and handing it to me.

"Thanks babe. I know how much you love this thing"

"I do. But I love you more. Plus you look hotter in it than I do"

"I don't know about that. Something about your James Dean rocker look gets me turned on" I whispered in his ear.

I giggled watching his eyebrows raise in surprise. His usual pink tinted cheeks going red.

"Hey! No sex before the wedding" Luke joked.

"Let me live Patterson" Reggie said taking my hand to lead me towards the small bathroom in the back of the garage.

"Where are you going?"

"To consummate our marriage" I joked. Sort of.

Reggie and I laughed as the boys groaned in annoyance.

"I mean I am staying the night" Reggie said pulling me into the small room.

"Your sleeping outside" Alex called after us. Reggie not hesitating to shut the door behind us.

#luke jatp #reggie jatp #alex jatp #owen patrick joyner #jeremy shada #charlie gillespie #madison reyes #flynn jatp #jadah marie #julie and the phantoms #julie molina #sunset curve #Reggie x reader #owen joyner

199 notes · View notes

just-call-me-the-intrusive-thot · 4 years ago

Text

Soulmate September - Day 9

Day 9 - When you write something on your own skin it appears on your soulmate’s skin as well. (Pirates and Sirens AU)

Pairing(s): Romantic Dukeceit, Background Romantic Prinxiety

TWs: Swearing, murder mention, Remus being Remus, semi-detailed leg and fin injury

–

Those who ran afoul of The Witch’s Serpent rarely lived to tell the tale. Many a foolish young sea-farer - far too inexperienced and overly cocky - had met their end at the hands of the galleon’s captain long before they could even hope to make their mark on the open seas.

Captain Remus Gaspar was an impulsive, enigma of a man; capable of great feats of bravery and reckless daring do, alongside acts of cold blooded murder and remorseless torture inflicted upon those who crossed him. The sea choked on the bodies of his victims while he and his crew sipped the finest stolen wines with nary a hiccup. The naval officers of the mainland cowered in fear while Remus decimated their trade routes and sent their men to the depths to keep the fish company. In fact, only one man had faced the Captain and lived to see another day, but kept coming back for more.

Commodore Logan Callows.

Remus would have admired him - in all senses - if not for his fanatic loyalty to the crown and it’s laws. Make no mistake, Remus very much wanted Logan’s head for a bow ornament with every fibre of his mortal being, but outside factors forbade Remus from fatally wounding the man. Namely, Logan’s first mate and closest friend was his brother-in-law, Virgil Giordano. Why did Roman’s soulmate have to be a man who could rival any opponent in a knife fight, despite being the sort to panic over the smallest change in weather conditions? Remus had no goddamn idea what fate was playing at, but he knew for certain that killing Logan would result in having to run from Virgil’s swift and immediate crusade for revenge. And if there’s one thing Remus Gaspar refused to do, it wold be spending his life in hiding.

Remus loved his brother dearly but all the familial loyalty in the world wouldn’t save him from Virgil’s wrath. He’d learned that much from his last encounter with Logan’s ship, The Inquisitor. Too many cocky remarks and attempts to stall while his men pillaged the lower decks of the ship in secret had earned him a close encounter with the business end of Virgil’s dagger. Naturally, the Captain had made things worse by uttering a rather salacious remark for which he was gifted a shiny new slash mark along his cheek.

“As a warning.”, his brother in law had hissed.

When forced to retreat, Remus had lamented the size of their haul at first. Not nearly enough sugar and spices as they’d been hoping for, but a small crate of flintlock pistols ripe for sale more than made up for the loss once they’d been discovered among the spoils.

Thus we come to the present moment; Captain Remus, sat upon the docks with a bottle of expensive rum, staring out into the ocean blue. His men had been more than happy to give the Captain his space while they spent their time merrily drinking in the local tavern. Once he was sure he was alone, Remus removed his black leather bracer and rolled his white sleeve to stare at the message written upon it. The Captain had seen many an alphabet in his day - either scrawled upon the foreign exports stolen from trading vessels, or within his memories of home, being tutored alongside his twin as children - but Remus had never laid eyes upon the letters that adorned his skin in a shimmering golden cursive.

Naturally, ever since he’d first been written to, Remus had made an effort to search for the script, but the only ‘lead’ he had been given was an old woman selling wares a couple of ports prior who had raved on and on, claiming it to be the language of the sirens. He’d scoffed at the idea and decided it likely wasn’t worth trying to work out in the first place.

Remus had never been one to buy into this whole soulmates arrangement. Even the day Roman had shown him the violet cursive that had appeared like magic, Remus had rolled his eyes and sworn off taking such a thing seriously. After all, acknowledging that kind of thing brought about some rather unpleasant thoughts he would rather not think about. The fierce Captain liked to play remorseless, but in truth, Remus simply knew that life at sea demanded blood, and it was up to him whether it’d be the blood of his enemies, or his crew and himself. But that didn't stop his mind wandering into territories he wished it would stay out of. How many men lay on the sandy shores of the depths with messages from soulmates unaware of their beloved’s fate? Did severing the connection hurt? Would fate allow those whom he’d unknowingly widowed to love again? Or had he doomed them to a life alone with no one to share such a connection with ever again?

… More rum would be needed it seemed.

A clattering from the nearby rock shoal drew Remus out from his own mind with a couple of curses leaving the Captain as he knocked over the rum bottle and watched a good portion of it pour away before he could right it again.

“Son of a bitch!”, he hissed, corking it and casting a glare towards the rockpool where the clattering had come from. Whoever had just cost him a good amount of rum was in for the brawl of their life. Remus threw on his coat and cursed his inebriated steps over the craggy rock face, swearing once again as he nearly rolled his ankle when his boot sunk into an unseen rockpool. He wrenched his leg free and crested the large flat rock in his way.

The second his eyes could focus, Remus made a mental note to find that old woman on their round trip and apologise.

Sprawled on it’s side nestled in the sand was an honest to god siren. The Captain was mesmerised by the creature; it’s long golden hair flowed over it’s scaled shoulders and torso, complimented by it’s black and yellow streaked fin-like ears that fluttered angrily each time it hissed. It wasn’t hard to work out why it was so angry. The creature’s left leg fin had been hooked in a rather nasty mess of fishing line and barbed hooks. The Captain had seen the technique used before to ensure a plentiful haul, who knew it could catch such a creature of legend so easily?

Perhaps Remus was succumbing to the creature’s charms, or maybe he was just too drunk already to think things through, but he found himself whistling to the creature to catch it’s attention. The way the creature’s panicked, beautiful eyes met his own momentarily knocked the wind from his chest as he wheezed out, “Need help?”

It let out a strangled sound and scrambled backwards, only to let out a cry of pain as it’s injured leg dragged along the sand. The Captain dropped down from his rock perch and made his way over,

“Woah there! Unless you want that fin ripped out you should lemme unhook you-”

Despite the excruciating pain it must’ve been in, it still managed to hiss dangerously at Remus in a voice that felt like a million tiny hands groping around in his brain with every syllable,

“Stay back!”

Remus’ halted momentarily, the voice in his head warning him, “Come any closer and I won’t hesitate to eat you alive!”

In spite of any semblance of common sense, Remus impulsively shot a cocky grin the creature’s way, “Kinky!”

The siren wasn’t amused.

It lunged forward to swipe at Remus, but the Captain caught it’s arm, making sure his grasp wasn’t painful, but firm.

“Watch it, you’re gonna take someone’s eye out! Or maybe these beauties will just gouge a couple chunks outta my face-”

Remus’ rambling was cut short as he saw the siren’s expression shift from a ferocious snarl to one of immediate fear.

“Please don’t kill me-”, it murmured quietly, slapping it’s free hand over its mouth. It tried to change back to a more aggressive persona but Remus refused to be intimidated,

“The last thing I wanna do is hurt you. Now are you gonna be a good lil fishy and let me unhook you?”

The siren scanned his face with those enchanting eyes once again, scrutinising every inch of Remus before it huffed and turned away from his gaze. The Captain took it as a sign of an indignant ‘do whatever you want’ and sat on the sand next to the siren, already beginning to carefully remove the hooks as best he could. Each wince the creature gave was met with an apology until Remus got the hang of it.

“.....What’s your name?”, Remus mused to the surprised siren, “Might as well get to know each other, right?”

The creature mumbled something Remus couldn’t understand under it’s breath but relented reluctantly, “My name is Janus. At least, that's how you humans would pronounce it.”

“It’s a beautiful name. Mine’s Remus.”, the Captain mumbled, too hyper focused on removing the hooks to see the way Janus’ cheeks flushed a dark ochre colour. Once the last hook had come loose, both of them let out a shared sigh of relief; Remus admired his job well done but grew concerned as Janus went to stand up. “Hey, you’re going to hurt yourself doing that.”, he warned, to which Janus scoffed, attempting to hide his emotions once more.

“I’ll be fine, Remus, I’ll heal quickly-”

“The salt water’s gonna sting like a bitch.”, Remus cut in.

Noting the wince Janus gave in response, he continued, “At least let me take you to my ship so I can bandage you up proper-“

“No!”, Janus declined fiercely, though he softened right after, letting Remus know it was likely a reflexive reaction, “I apologise. I… I’m rather wary of that kind of thing. Please understand.”

Remus sighed and stood up, taking off his coat to place it around Janus’ shoulders. The siren stiffened, though curiosity got the better of him and he softly touched the warm material. Janus inhaled and immediately was hit with the smell of the garment; a mix of body odour, dried blood, sea salt, and countless food-like smells. Not to mention the reek of old alcohol.

“In the name of Uranus, do you never clean this ornate rag!?”

Remus cackled, taking Janus’ hand to lead him to The Witch’s Serpent, noting that his fingers were webbed. Adorable.

“Nope! Not since I hauled it off the guy I ran through to get it!”

Janus’ nose crinkled at that yet the siren kept following Remus towards his ship. With a proper glance in the light of the port, Janus piped up, “Oh. That’s an interesting coincidence.”

“What is?”, Remus questioned, making sure no one was aboard yet so he could lift a flustered Janus on deck despite the embarrassed glare he received from the siren.

“I’ve been following your ship for months.”, Janus elaborated, trying to regain his footing on the decks, “With the scraps and bodies you leave behind in your wake, I rarely have to bother hunting for new prey.”

Ah. Remus wasn’t sure what to make of that yet, simply shrugging, “Good to know you’ve been freeloading this whole time.”.

Once more taking the hand of the siren, Remus led him towards the Captain’s Quarters; the room was just as gilded and ornate as the coat keeping Janus warm, with various trinkets, maps, paintings, and oddities given their own place within the room. Taking the opportunity to snoop around while Remus was rooting around in his desk drawer for bandages, Janus allowed his eyes to lead him on a journey around the room. A telescope, a star map, family photos, animal bones, even a goblet made from a man’s skull connected atop a metal stem, Janus had never seen so many interesting and macabre items. His interest peaked when his gaze landed on a beautiful topaz necklace resting on a book of fairytales.

Janus’ fingers traced the jewellery adoringly. It was rare for such trinkets to end up on the seafloor unless a storm had sent an unfortunate vessel to the depths. Not that Janus was ever lucky enough to get at the spoils; the boisterous captain may be sweet on him, for who knows what reason, but his own kind were never too fond of Janus’ standoffish nature and biting remarks. Of course, Janus didn’t care if he was lonely. He didn’t. Not at all. “You can have it if you want.”

Remus’ voice startled the siren who nearly tripped over the end of the Captain’s large coat. He chuckled and slowly lifted the necklace off the book to carefully let it loop over Janus’ neck.

“It suits you. Really brings out the scales.”, he complimented. Without giving Janus a second to process the act of kindness, Remus led him towards a wooden armchair in front of his desk. He guided Janus to sit down in the chair while Remus sat on the desk itself. To his side was a roll of bandages and a cloth, ‘for the blood trail’ he’d explained, gesturing to the droplets patterning their route. Janus watched the captain remove his bracers and sink to the floor to tend to his wounds. By the gentle way the Captain held and bandaged him, Janus assumed the man had sobered enough for the siren to pose the question,

“Why?”

Remus frowned, looking up to lock eyes with the siren, “Why what?”

“Why’re you...”, being so kind? Treating me so sweetly? Not trying to kill me to sell my skin? “.... treating me like this? You realise I threatened to eat you earlier, right?”

The Captain shrugged, his expression as blank as before, “Yeah. But you didn’t. And you got all fucked up in some moron’s fishing line, so it wasn’t like you posed much of a threat-”

“Exactly.”, Janus interrupted in frustrated confusion in his tone, “My voice is out of practice, if you wanted to, you could’ve slaughtered me for my skin. Any human would be a fool not to. But here you are, treating me like I’m worth more to you alive than dead. Adorning me in such… expensive trinkets.”

Remus’ brow furrowed at that. “For someone who threatened to eat me earlier, I figured you’d practice a little more self preservation.”

The siren scoffed, “I didn’t say I wanted to be slaughtered, I’m merely trying to work out why you wouldn’t take such a chance. Doesn’t your species enjoy monetary gain? Like I said, any human would be a fool to miss such an opportunity- oW!”

Janus fixed Remus a glare as the Captain flicked the abused tip of his leg fin, “First off, yeah, I like money but that's not what I do this shit for. Secondly, most humans think your kind aren’t even real. If I waltzed into town claiming I had siren skin to sell, I’d be run outta town as a conman. Besides, if I’m nice to you, I’ll have an ally in the water, and that's far more valuable to me.”

As he wrapped up the calf area for good, Remus grinned up at the siren, “You’re also really handsome, so that helps.”

Janus’ face crinkled in a flustered surprise, “Remus, I’m part fish-”

“You’re still handsome as fuck.”

“I’m not even using my human glamour-”

“And? You’re hot.”

“I’m literally covered in fish scales-!”

“Still hot!”

Janus couldn’t think of another rebuttal, so Remus counted it as a win for him. He rolled his sleeves to tackle the rest of the injuries when he caught Janus’ eyes tracing the fresh scar on his cheek.

“Wondering how I got this scar?”

“I may be interested.” came the coy reply.

Remus smirked, “You could call it a gift from my brother-in-law. I got a little too up close and personal with his best friend and found up with this beauty. It’s a shame, said bestie’s pretty fun but he’s the biggest pain in my ass since this one time I ate some bad eels-”

“That’s charming,”, Janus interrupted in disgust, “Why don’t you simply dispatch this ‘bestie’ and be done with him?”

“Can’t. If I did that, Virge-”

“Who?”

“My brother-in-law.”

“Ah. Continue.”

“Virge would hunt me down to the ends of the Earth and the last thing I wanna do is trade away my freedom to do whatever the fuck I want.”, he averted his gaze to Janus’ leg and kept bandaging it; whoever had put that line into the ocean had no idea the damage it’d caused to such a beautiful creature. “Besides, if I hurt Virge like that, my brother Roman would be miserable. Even if he probably hates me, some dumb bitch part of me really doesn’t want him to feel like shit just ‘cause I went and upset his soulmate.”

Janus scoffed quietly. It lacked the venom he no doubt intended it to have but the disdain was enough to draw the Captain’s attention. “You humans are far too sentimental. My kind have no qualms treating even close family like scum if we so desire. Even our soulmates it would seem..”

Remus caught the darting glance Janus sent towards his scaled wrist, noting the sigh he suppressed. “.... They’re a damn fool to not want you.”, the Captain murmured thoughtfully as he finally finished the upper shin bandaging. He wiped his brow with the heel of his palm but stopped as he felt smoothe fingers wrap around his wrist. His confusion was answered as the siren bore holes into the sliver of writing on his arm with those mesmerising eyes.

“You’re not the only one having soulmate trouble,”, Remus began answering, “Never really cared much for this shit, but now I got a message, I can’t make heads or tails of it-”

“Help me. I need you.”

Remus locked eyes with Janus, the siren’s own eyes wide with realisation and looking ready to bubble with tears, “That's what it says. It’s in Aquan. I wrote that to my soulmate while I was feeling…. rather vulnerable.”

Unsure of how to react to this turn of events, Remus stood and sat on his desk once more. He was too stunned to reply at first. A million questions swelled and crashed upon the shores of his brain, all fighting to be asked, but Janus beat him to the punch.

“Why did you never write back?”, the hurt in his voice stabbed at the Captain’s heart, “I mean, even if you couldn’t understand me, why didn’t you just...”

Remus wasn’t sure himself. No, that was a lie. He simply never fathomed that the message had been a cry for help.

“I don’t know. I wasn’t thinking.”, he began, looking to Janus - no, his soulmate, and asking in return, “What happened?”

Janus sucked in a breath through his teeth, “.... It was a moment of weakness but….. My family had cast me out. Not that it was all too surprising, nor could I stand most of them anyway, but… being left alone to wander by yourself is a rather terrifying thought no matter the situation. I’d reached my breaking point. I felt like I’d been abandoned by my kin entirely. I thought perhaps my soulmate would be there for me. I never imagined you were human.”

“Makes sense. I’m sorry your family sucks ass.”. Eloquent as always. But hey, the snicker that got from the siren was worth it in Remus’ eyes. “And I’m sorry I didn’t write back. But I guess it’s good we finally crossed paths.”

Remus gestured for Janus to join him on the desk, to which the siren accepted the offer, being careful not to catch the coat he was still adorned in on anything on the way up. With his soulmate seated by his side, Remus wrapped an arm around the siren and held him close. Janus gave a lop-sided, fond smile, leaning into the act of comfort and gently resting a hand on Remus’ chest.

“What now then, my Captain?”, Janus’ voice was as soft and sweet as a ripe peach. Remus knew it’d require a lot of explanation where his crew was concerned, but he wasn’t about to let Janus slip away from him. He pressed a kiss to the siren’s temple, relishing the blush that spread over Janus’ cheeks. With a grin, Remus cackled,

“Simple, we make good on this alone time we’ve got ‘til my crew get back!”

Sorry this one’s so late TTvTT I miight need some time to finish days 10 and up, but I’ll get things written asap. @tsshipmonth2020

Taglist: @somehow-i-got-an-account @cateye-glasses @fandomsofrandom

250 notes · View notes

adventuresinwonderlust · 4 years ago

Text

Title: “Two months too long”

Pairing: dom! Yoongi x sub! brat! Reader Ft. Namjoon Ft. Jin Ft. Jimin

Warnings: SMUT like a lot, fluff (just a bit), angst (eh), cheating/talk of cheating, abusive parents, oral (f) receiving, unprotected sex (wrap it up folks), rough sex, orgasm denial (f) receiving

*Read in both perspectives, this a long one: over 10,000 words.*

Rating: 18 and over

Y/N:

“Faster, Faster!” You moan, yanking his hair, and grinding your aching cunt against his face. You’ve been at this for 20 minutes and you were no closer to your release than when you started. “Use your fingers!” You cry out. Jimin pops up from beneath your skirt, out of breath, lips swollen. “Jagi, this doesn’t seem to be working. Please, I need to be inside you.” He whispers in your ear, rubbing his erection along your thigh. “I don’t know why I am even doing this. We were supposed to just talk. I have to go.” You push him away. “Perhaps lover boy isn’t doing his job properly.” Jimin quips licking your juices from his lips. “This was a mistake Jimin, I can’t, we can’t do this ever again.” “We shall see Jagi. As always, it’s good to see you.” You rush out of Jimin’s office and race for the street, angry with yourself for thinking you could have a simple conversation with your ex. You hop into your car and pull out your phone sending a text that you know will just fall into the unknown like the rest. ‘I need you, please just answer me. I miss you. I’m so sorry.’ You wait and wait staring at the screen, as tears begin to fall from your eyes, for a response that doesn’t comes.

MIN:

Yoongi quietly contemplates whether he will respond this time. He does this every time you message, each message more desperate than the last. He’s ignored you ever since he walked out on your father’s birthday party, wanting you to suffer and hurt the way he did. A tap on the passenger side window snaps him out of his contemplation as he simply placed his phone in the cup holder. “If it isn’t my baby brother. Have you missed me?” Yoongi’s brother smiles wide, throwing his luggage in the back seat and taking his place in the passenger’s seat. “How was your flight?” Yoongi grumbles. “Nah, come on, is that anyway to greet me?” Yoongi sighs deeply but leans over and embraces his brother. Yoongi had never hated Jin, he was in the same boat as Yoongi, merely a passenger to their parents’ craziness. In fact, Jin and Yoongi had bonded over the years and become a source of comfort to one another. Jin was only older by a year but had taken over his father company after his death, becoming quite successful at his young age, something Yoongi admired and Yoongi’s father lusted after. A fact that neither boy allowed to sully their relationship, Jin even protected Yoongi at times from his father’s wrath. “Have you eaten?” Yoongi asks. “No but I can wait. My mother has instructed me to come straight to the house to see her upon landing.” Yoongi nods and begins driving. “How’s the love life?” Jin inquires, Yoongi chuckles. “I don’t do love lives.” “Good answer bro. I intend to meet many love lives out here. Mother has been pressuring me to choose a wife and I am uninterested.” “Well then, we should throw a welcome home party for my favorite brother.” Jin laughs out loud. “Speaking of, how is Namjoon?” Yoongi joins in on Jin’s joke laughing along with him.

Y/N:

“So, let me get this straight, you want me to convince him to talk to you?” “Yes! Exactly.” Namjoon nods sarcastically. “No.” “What? Why not?” “Well for starters you really messed up this time and second, I don’t care to be involved in your craziness!” You whine obnoxiously. “Joon, please. I need this, this one favor.” “Ah, then one favor becomes two and two three and you see the pattern here yeah?” You drop your head into your hands and begin to cry causing Namjoon to chuckle nervously. “Well, don’t cry. He just needs his space. You need to realize that not everything is your way. The people around you have feelings also and deserve to be treated accordingly.” You wipe your tears and look up at Namjoon. “I fucked up Joon and I don’t know how to stop fucking shit up but I know that I love him and I shouldn’t because he flat out told me he doesn’t love me but I still want him.” Namjoon sighs. “I think the best thing to do is give him space. When I see him, I’ll pick his brain a little but that’s all I’m going to do!” Namjoon warns as your face lights up. “When do you see him?” “Uh, Uh, bro code, remember?” “Yeah, yeah. What about us code?” Namjoon laughs. “That’s the thing Y/n, no one else puts me in a situation to have to play that card but you.” You roll your eyes at his response. “He will come around, hopefully, in the meantime you’ll just have to wait.” “I have to tell you something. I saw Jimin today. I know what you’re going to say. I shouldn’t have but I just wanted to get closure I guess, and it turned into something else completely and the entire time I was with him I just couldn’t stop thinking about Min.” Namjoon just stared at you in a disapproving manner, it made you feel anxious. You always thought highly of Namjoon, he was smart in ways you weren’t, and he always gave the best advice and right now you needed that. “Well, say something Joon.” “I just have one question Y/n, How do you ever intend to move forward if you’re always looking back?”

MIN:

“Okay, okay. How about this one? What do you call a cow with no legs?” Yoongi sighs and rolls his eyes but obliges his brother’s antics. “What?” “Ground beef!” Jin immediately starts cackling while Yoongi just shakes his head disapprovingly. They have been home for a time but no one else was home. “We should’ve just gone out to eat. I fear you’re losing your mind.” Yoongi tells Jin. “Yeah, I agree. Let me call mother and see what’s going on.” Jin walks off. Yoongi pulls out his phone and aimlessly scrolls through his Instagram, stopping when he sees a side profile mirror selfie of you in bed, hair tousled, wearing nothing but a thong and white crop top. He sucks in a breath at the sight, feeling his cock twitch to life. She’s teasing me and its working, Yoongi thinks to himself. He swallows hard, examining the photo with a fine-tooth comb, his heart beating at a rapid pace. His mind playing tricks on him, what if she was just with someone. You have your phone positioned to cover your face so he couldn’t really tell if you looked fucked out. “Wow, she’s hot! Do you know her?” Jin leans in over Yoongi’s shoulder. He fumbles with his phone quickly tucking it away. “What did your mom say?” “Oh! You really like this one huh? You got all nervous and I think you’re even blushing.” Jin teases. “Fuck off.” “Well in any case, mother is almost back from shopping. She’s going to bring food back with her. While we wait, why don’t you tell me about this girl.” Yoongi shakes his head, visibly annoyed. “She’s no one. Someone I was seeing for a bit but she’s just like the rest. Taking what she needs and discarding what she doesn’t.” Jin purses his lips, nodding in understanding. He taps Yoongi on the shoulder, “Day by day brother. Just take it all day by day. Anyone who doesn’t see how great you are doesn’t deserve your time. How about another joke to clear your head?” “Ahh, please spare me. I’d rather jump head-first into the river.” Yoongi jokes. “That can be arranged boy.” Jin and Yoongi both jump up at the sound of Lee An’s voice. They both bow deeply as she shoves past Yoongi and embraces Jin. “My son, my handsome son. Ive missed you so. Come, let’s eat, tell mother everything about your trip.” She takes Jin by the hand and pulls him towards the dining area. “Come brother.” He waves at Yoongi to join. “Actually, I would prefer some time with alone with Jin. I’m sure Yoongi has other things to do today, don’t you boy.” “Mother, Yoongi picked me up from the airport. He hasn’t eaten either and I’ve missed him as well.” She sucks her teeth at Jin. “It’s ok. Your mother is right. I have a lot to do today. We can catch up later.” Yoongi gives Jin a tight smile and turns to grab his things. “Mother that was rude of you.” Jin whispers. “I don’t care. I hate that boy and I don’t want you picking up nasty habits from him.” “I have ears you know.” Yoongi mumbles. “I wasn’t trying to be discreet.” Lee An hisses as she walks off. “Really, stay brother, don’t worry about her.” Yoongi chuckles and taps Jin on the shoulder. “It’s all good, I’ll see you later at Namjoon’s place, besides this will give you a chance to get out all those terrible dad jokes. Women don’t find those things sexy.” Jin laughs loudly. “I find just the opposite. It drives them wild.” Jin gives Yoongi a wink as he takes his leave.

Y/N:

You watch as the likes and comments pour in for your naughty little photo but of course the attention you want you don’t get. Namjoon’s voice rings through your head over and over. He was always right, even more so this time. How did you ever intend to move forward if you were always looking back? You were fooling yourself into thinking you needed closure from Jimin. You had since moved on from what he had done to you without a second thought but still you ran to him when Min left you high and dry because you figured you’d show him who was boss, again only fooling yourself. Now it seemed you may have ruined any chance at a normal relationship. “You told him you loved him? Girl, are you sick in the head?” You sat on your BFFs bed, sulking, filling her in on everything. “It doesn’t matter now, I fucked everything up. He doesn’t feel the same way and hooking up with Jimin again just put the final nail in my coffin.” “Yeah but he doesn’t know about that and you didn’t even cum so technically it doesn’t count.” You groan and throw yourself back on her bed. “Why can’t I just be happy?” Your BFF sighs deeply at your question. “Well for one, I think you might be an actual bitch.” “Wow, thanks! You’re really great at this!” She begins laughing at your response. “Okay, okay. You seem to be hooked on this guy and while I don’t approve, I am always down to help my girl out. With that being said, I happen to know that he is currently with Namjoon.” You hop up at this news. “How do you know this?” She gives you a sly smile. “I’ve been texting Joon and he told me they would be out and about today, planning some party. Maybe we should accidentally show up to where they’re going to be looking fucking bomb. Get that Min boys blood boiling.” “That’s fucking genius! I think I’m in love with you!” You say before jumping on her. “Let me text Joon and see what’s the tea.” “Let me borrow that red mini skirt.” You ask, running to her closet. She nods excitedly while texting rapidly. “Let’s see you ignore me now.” You whisper, looking yourself over in the mirror.

MIN:

“Who are you texting so much?” Yoongi ask Joon while shoving a dumpling in his mouth. “Ahh, Y/N’s friend, do you remember her from the party? I don’t know, maybe I’m reaching but I think we have chemistry.” Yoongi shakes his head. “I don’t think she liked me very much. She wasn’t very nice if I recall.” “Maybe you should try smiling more.” Yoongi pretends to choke on his food at Namjoon’s comment. “Now where’s the fun in that?” “Namjoon, hello, how are you? It’s so good to see you again.” Namjoon begins to stutter as Yoongi licks his lips looking over the guy who’s approached the table. He furrows his brow, trying to recall where he’s seen him before. “Jimin, what are you doing here?” “Finishing a business lunch. This place has phenomenal food. Who’s your friend?” He looks over at Yoongi, who’s heart drops to his stomach. “I know you. You’re the ex.” Yoongi states through clenched teeth. “Excuse me.“ Jimin questions, leaning in. “Y/N’s ex, the one who kissed her at her father’s party.” Jimin’s eyes widen suddenly. “Ahh, you must be lover boy. I would shake your hand, but it seems tasteless since I was just with Y/N today.” Yoongi jumps up from the table at the remark. “What the fuck did you just say?” Jimin takes a step back as Namjoon steps between them. “Gentlemen please, not in public. We all have reputations to maintain.” Yoongi’s body trembles with rage as he breathes heavily. “Calm down friend, as I recall she kissed me back at that party and came to my office to see me today. A fact I’m sure wouldn’t have been necessary had you been taking care of business on your end. No matter, I made sure she was handled just as she likes.” Jimin provokes with a wink. Yoongi chuckles and nods, passing his hand through his hair. “Let it go, Yoongi, he’s just trying to get under your skin.” Namjoon tries to calm. “Listen to Namjoon here. You wouldn’t want to do anything stupid.” “You’re right, she isn’t worth it.” Yoongi states calmly, grinding his teeth. He places money on the table and swallows hard, examining Jimin one last time before walking past him. “Good choice friend. Being the bigger person. I know how hard it is to resist her but I’m sure it’s harder to see her fucked out in photos on Instagram, knowing I’m the one who did it to her.” Yoongi’s breath hitches at Jimin’s words and he all but blacks out before spinning around quickly to slam his fist into Jimin’s perfect jaw.

Y/N:

“Shit!” Your BFF says aloud. “What? What’s going on?” “They are headed back to Namjoon’s house already.” “What? That was fast! He just said they were eating.” You look over to the passenger’s seat to catch her gnawing on her lip nervously. “Yoongi clocked Jimin.” Your jaw drops as you try to find words, heart frantically beating in your chest. “I don’t understand.” You feel tears burn in back of your eyes. “According to Joon, Jimin was at the restaurant also and approached them at their table and told Min you guys fucked and something about your picture on Instagram. Yoongi flipped and clocked Jimin. Damn that boys got it bad for you.” “Are you crazy!? What are you saying!? I didn’t sleep with Jimin okay. That’s a lie! And why would he even hit Jimin? We aren’t even together anymore; hes been ignoring me for almost two months. Why does he even care? I can’t, I have to pull over.” You abruptly turn the wheel, parking the car on the side of the road, and begin hyperventilating. “Calm down Y/N! What the hell?” Your friend rubs your back to calm you. “He’s never going to talk to me again! Everything is so fucked!” You sob. “I don’t want to be that friend that hits you with an I told you so but girl this Min boy was trouble from the start. You need to just let this thing go. It’s not worth all this grief.” “You’re right. I don’t need to hear I told you so.” You bark at her, yanking out your phone. “Oh, please don’t do what I think you are going to do.” She warns you. You dial Yoongi and wait for an answer. ‘You have reached the voicemail….’, You hang up and dial again. ‘You have reached the voicemail….’, you hang up and dial again. ‘You have reached the voicemail….’ but this time your BFF takes your phone. “Stop,” She shouts, “He doesn’t give a shit about you. He only clocked Jimin because men are territorial pigs not because he cares! I have had enough of that god damn Min boy. Now, we are going back to get you cleaned up and go get nice and shit faced tonight, and you are going to forget all about that ridiculous Min Yoongi!”

MIN:

It had been hours since Yoongi knocked Jimin on his ass. He smirked to himself as he looked over his swollen knuckles. He was good and drunk now, making damn sure he was numb to the pain. He nodded his head to the music playing even though he had no clue what it was. His eyes shifted frantically just trying to focus on something long enough to fool himself into thinking he could move about the party he and Namjoon put together for Jin. “There you are brother! I’ve been looking everywhere for you! This is Lisa and Jess. I overheard them talking about the infamous Min boy and they could hardly contain themselves when I said we were brothers.” Jin gives Yoongi a wink. “Is that so?” Yoongi looks over the two girls, not really his cup of tea but he’s not in the position to be picky. He needed to get his mind away from you and quick! Before he has time to speak Jess leans in for a photo. “Smile for the Gram!” Yoongi leans his head in and gives a sly smile. “Oh, me too!” Lisa leans in next and Yoongi obliges her with a photo as well. “Jin was just telling us he doesn’t have social media.” Lisa pushes herself against Yoongi to say. “Takes away from one on one time. I hate it.” Jin explains. “Maybe we can have some one on one time?” Lisa whispers into Yoongi’s ear. He takes a moment to take in her features. She’s a pretty girl, too much makeup honestly, which surprised him since she didn’t really need it. She begins to run her hand over his arm and press her breasts, which are spilling out of her top, into his chest. “Can we find someplace quiet?” She breathes heavily into his ear. Yoongi nods and leads her off. Jin winks at him, wrapping his arm around Jess, who pulls him into a kiss. Yoongi takes Lisa through the house, trying to get to a guest room. “This is good.” She says, yanking him into a dark room. “This is a restroom.” He drawls, flicking on the light. “I don’t mind.” She giggles, shoving him into the sink and dropping to her knees. He chuckles at her enthusiasm. “We can take our time. I promise I’m not going anywhere.” “I heard you have a big cock. Is that true?” She pants, pawing at his crotch. He growls quietly, covering her hand with his, trying to soften her brutish attempts at stroking him through his pants. “Hey, hey,” He grabs her by the chin and lifts her face up. “It’s not going anywhere.” She giggles while yanking at his belt, undoing his button and fly. “I heard you like it rough.” She yanks down his pants and underwear just low enough to free his semi hard member. “Mm, let’s wake him up shall we.” She states before licking at his shaft like a lollipop. Yoongi’s brow furrows as he tries to calm his mind. You’re fine. He repeats over and over in his head as she laps at his cock. “Don’t tease.” He whispers to her. She smiles up at him before suckling on his tip.

He moans softly, as she swirls her tongue around his now engorged tip. “There’s that big boy I’ve heard so much about.” She comments, examining his fully erect cock. She slowly begins to stroke him, a perfect bead of pre-cum forming at his tip. She swipes her thumb over it and slides it down his shaft. He hums in approval. She wraps her mouth around his tip again suckling at it while using both hands to pump his cock. He groans in discomfort at how tightly she clenches and twist his shaft, her hands beginning to dry around his dick. “Wait.” He says. She releases his now reddened member. “Open up.” He says gently, placing his hand on the nape of her neck. She does as she’s told, and he slowly slides his cock into her warm gaping mouth. He sucks in a breath at the sweet sensation of moisture that finds his irritated dick. He is almost inserted halfway before Lisa begins to gag and shove him back. He pulls away, stroking her cheek gently. “I’m sorry, are you ok?” “I don’t really do the deep throat thing. I know guys like it but to be honest I think you’re too big for my mouth. Literally, my dentist once told me I have an unusually small mouth.” Yoongi purses his lips but soon nods in understanding. “Don’t you worry Min. I can still make you cum.” She smiles seductively up at him, pushing Yoongi’s hands away from his member to insert his tip in her mouth once again. She slurps loudly on it while using both hands to pump his cock again. Yoongi bites his lip to keep from groaning in pain. She slows her pace much to Yoongi’s delight and he releases a relived breath until she twists her head to the side and grazes his sensitive tip with her teeth. “Ah!” He cries out. “Sorry! I just get so excited.” She giggles. Yoongi grips the countertop and tries to steady his breathing. He should stop this right here and now, but he doesn’t want to insult the girl. So, Yoongi just closes his eyes, trying to stay calm in the moment. “Mm, so good.” She moans, moving her attention towards his shaft, wrapping her lips around the left side and gliding her mouth along the side. She begins to twist her closed fist around the tip of his cock, tightening her grip with every turn, causing Yoongi to wince at the feeling. “Fuck.” He whispers to himself. “You like that baby.” She asks, turning her attention to the right side and gliding her mouth along his shaft once more, all the while still twisting his tip tightly. “Wait.” Yoongi cries out, unable to stand the pain any longer. “Gonna cum already.” She teases. “Uh, no, just, um, I like when you use just your mouth.” He mumbles, trying to hold back his need to take control of the situation. Lisa doesn’t exactly look like the type to enjoy Dom play and he wouldn’t dare try it since she seems to live off the rumor mill. “Well, I can’t get the whole thing in my mouth but maybe if I just focus on the tip…” Lisa rambles as Yoongi’s mind begins to wander on how to salvage this moment. He stands there, cock out and losing life, watching Lisa’s mouth move but not processing what she’s saying. Instead he wonders about you, what you were doing, what you were wearing, if you missed him. Try as he might, he can’t stop thinking of you, your cunt, your neediness, and the way you swallow back his cock with ease, like a woman mad. He growls at the thought, his cock coming back to life. He begins stroking himself greedily while Lisa watches in awe. He closes his eyes, imagining you laid out, on display for him, rubbing your perky tits, mouth opened and waiting for his seed. He moans loudly at the thoughts plaguing his mind, feeling his climax approaching from deep within his ball sack. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum. Open that pretty mouth for me?” He asks of Lisa. “Um, I, uh, I don’t swallow.” Lisa mumbles, eyes wide like saucers, clearly affected by the show. “What?” Yoongi says breathlessly and frustrated. “I don’t swallow, sorry. I hate the taste.” Yoongi groans, heading towards the toilet quickly. He strokes his cock desperately and cries out as he shoots his load into the porcelain. “We could fuck if you want?” Lisa offers. “No. I can’t. I’m sorry. I have to go.” Yoongi states calmly, fastening his belt and escaping the restroom.

Y/N:

“This is amazing. Really a great idea. Why didn’t we think to do this sooner?” You pass the bottle of Vodka to your BFF and she takes a swig. “I have no clue but Its exactly what we needed. Namjoon is so sweet right? Like he could’ve told me no when I asked to borrow the lake house no questions asked but he didn’t. Who does that?” You squint over at you friend, taking in her newfound glow. “Wow, I’m really sorry.” She looks over to you and laughs. “Why?” “I have been so consumed by everything going on with me that I hadn’t noticed that you were falling for Joon! When did this happen?” “Ok, so, no more Vodka for you.” She scoffs. “Come on be serious! Does he know?” “Ugh,” She throws her hands up in defeat, “I have no clue! Ok, full disclosure, I guess it started blossoming at the fourth of July party and he’s just been so sweet and attentive, and I’ve never experienced anything like that. Now we’re like talking a lot! I mean he sends me a good morning text every day. Who does that?” She passes you the bottle. “No one because chivalry is dead but,” You swallow down some Vodka and the large lump in your throat, “You and Joon are going to be really cute together. I think you’ll make a great couple. I can always ask him how he feels about you.” “Really? Do you think he could like me? Like do you get that vibe. I mean, I know he’s completely out of my league. He’s smart and charming and worldly. I’m just some random chick that happened to become friends with the cool kids if you will.” “Don’t sell yourself short. You deserve the best! And Namjoon is the best in this God forsaken city so you go get your man girl!” Your friend immediately starts laughing and you can’t help but join in. “You are super drunk!” “Are we expecting company?” You ask looking past her. She spins around, “Not that I am aware of.”

Your jaw drops as Namjoon approaches from the house. “Shit, girl. Act natural.” You whisper to your BFF, who’s face is turning a gorgeous crimson. “Sorry to interrupt ladies! I had assumed you would be alone.” Namjoon says directly to your friend. “Nope, no, not a problem. Please join us Joon.” You slap your hand on the blanket laid out on the grass underneath you. He chuckles. “Not to be rude, I was hoping that I could speak to your friend alone?” Your BFF gasps as you try but can’t hide the shock on your face. “Of course, yeah. Um, Is Bear still here? Maybe he can drive me back home. I am in no condition to drive myself.” You respond, shaking the Vodka bottle at him. He laughs and nods. “I can definitely arrange that for you,” He turns and reaches his hand out to your BFF, “Will you do me the honor and join me inside for a night cap and some conversation?” Your BFF nods at him, shock and lust gracing her face. “Hey girl, drive my car back to my place tomorrow?” You ask. She looks over to you and nods as she makes her way to the house. “You ok?” Namjoon asks, holding his hand out to help you stand. “No but I think I will be.” You stand and then pull him into a hug. He squeezes you tightly. “Yeah, you will be. You’re strong like that.” “Hey, Joon, is Yoongi ok?” He gives you a tight-lipped smile. “No, but I think he will be.” You nod. “Be good to her. She really likes you and she deserves to be treated like a queen!” You point at him with warning. Namjoon smiles wide, adjusting his eyes to see you better. “I wouldn’t have it any other way Y/N.” He looks down at his phone and then up at you. “Bear is out front. Get home safe. Promise I’ll take good care of her.” You hug him again and make your way out to meet your ride.

MIN:

“Be quiet. Your mother will freak if she sees you like this.” Yoongi strains, trying to keep a drunken Jin upright on the steps to their house. “She can be very overbearing, but she is a good mother Yoongi. I wish she could love you like she loves me. You deserve to know a mothers love.” Yoongi scoffs at the comment. “My mother wasn’t always how she is now Jin. She loved me once and in her strange way still loves me now.” He responds, leaning Jin against the house to retrieve his keys. He quietly unlocks the front door. “Shh.” Jin says to Yoongi, pressing a slender finger to his full lips. Yoongi throws Jin’s arm around his shoulder and helps him into the house. “That Jess girl really was nice, I might call her again. How was Lisa? Did you like her?” Yoongi shakes his head. “I think I’m good for a while.” Jin laughs quietly at Yoongi’s comment. “Animal! What have you done to my son?” The lights go on in the living room and both Jin and Yoongi find themselves looking up in shock at Lee An. “Mother, we are fine. Yoongi threw me a party. It was wonderful. We had a great time!” “You smell like a whorehouse! I knew I never should have let you hang around with this heathen!” “Stop it mother. I am not a child! Yoongi did a nice thing for me. You are always putting him down and I have had it!” Jin shouts. “Is that so?” Yoongi’s father appears from the hall. Jin swallows hard. “Sir.” Jin bows. “Is that any way to talk to your mother?” Jin drops his head in shame. “No sir. I apologize. I just got frustrated is all.” Jin explains. Yoongi’s father rests his hand on Jin’s shoulder. “Understandable. Why you are just being a proud hyung and defending your brother. Who can ever fault you for that?” Jin continues to look down. Yoongi’s father removes his hand from Jin’s shoulder and turns to face Yoongi, who immediately stands tall. “You should be honored Yoongi.” “He should be punished.” Lee An chimes in. Jin whips his head in the direction of his mother.

Yoongi takes in a deep breath as his father approaches him. “Sir, please, we did nothing wrong.” Jin pleads. “It’s ok Jin.” Yoongi murmurs. His father smirks. “You are almost enthusiastic for punishment son.” “Why fight the inevitable?” Yoongi’s father hums in agreement, turning to face Jin and Lee An for a moment, nodding briefly at a snarling Lee An. He spins suddenly and quickly, punching Yoongi in the stomach. The wind knocks right out of Yoongi’s lungs as he drops to his knees with a strained gasp. “Don’t.” Jin shouts, moving towards Yoongi. Yoongi’s father shoves him back hard, causing Jin to fall on his ass. “Don’t touch my son!” Lee An yells. Yoongi slowly regains his breath but only for a moment as his father kicks him in the ribs. He cries out in pain, rolling onto his side. “Get up!” His father shouts, grabbing him from the top of his head. Yoongi claws at his hand, fearing he will yank out the hair from his roots. His father releases him. He gains his bearings and stands upright on his feet. “Stop this now!” Jin shakes free from his mother’s grasp to intervene, only to be met with the back of Yoongi’s fathers’ hand. “Jin! Stay back.” Yoongi strains. He turns to face his father and reason with him. “Father…” His words are cut off by the intense humming in his head from being struck in the temple by his father’s heavy fist. He stumbles back but remains on his feet. “Do you wish to fight me son? I can see the anger in your eyes. That burning, you wish to strike me, don’t you? Well, come on.” His father moves close to him. Yoongi does not respond nor does he move but instead he drops his hands to his sides. They stare at one another for what feels like forever. Yoongi pants heavily, still struggling to breathe. “Please sir, just stop this now.” Jin calls out to Yoongi’s father. “You will never understand just how much I love you son, until you yourself become a father.” Yoongi’s father explains. “I don’t ever want to love someone the way you have loved me.” Yoongi responds plainly. His father smirks with a nod, striking Yoongi square in the mouth.

Y/N:

Your father was out of town on a business trip and you hated being alone in the house. It just felt empty and hollow without anyone around. You shuffled about in your oversized shirt and fluffy slippers, looking aimlessly for something to occupy your time. It had just started pouring out and you were instantly happy not to be at the lake. The rains usually brought in intense winds when on the lake and it made you nervous that a tree would fall over. You stood in your kitchen snacking on a granola bar, listening to the rain hit the roof, when a desperate slamming on your door caused you to shriek loudly into your empty home. Your heartbeat quickly in your chest and you wondered if you should even answer it. The knocking came again this time more intense than the last. You shuffle over to the door and press your ear against the cold metal. “Who is it?” You shout as bravely as possible. There is no answer, and you can’t help but think of every horror movie ever, where the dumb girl dies after asking who is at the door. “I have a big knife.” You call out now. Still no answer and now you panic wondering if the person on the other end has a gun. “Please go away. I’m calling the police!” You yell. “Y/N,” You hear from the other side, “Please, open the door. I didn’t mean to scare you.” You remove your ear from the door, your brows high in confusion. You yank the door open and gasp at the sight before you. “Oh my god, Yoongi, what happened to you?” You shake trying to grab a hold of a bruised and bloody Yoongi. You frantically look over his bloody nose, lip, and bruise forming under his left eye, unsure of if you should ask what happened. He takes notice of your alarm.

“Do I look so horrible?” He asks, leaning his weight on you. He smells of liquor and winces as you wrap your arm around his waist. “No, I just, are you ok? Did you drive here yourself?” He nods, walking over with you to the kitchen. “You could’ve killed someone.” You hiss, dropping him into a stool and rushing to grab ice and a wet wash cloth. “I needed to see you.” He confesses, stopping you in your tracks. “I thought you hated me.” You bring the ice over and place it on his eye while cleaning the blood from his face. “I don’t know what to do anymore. I couldn’t stay away any longer. You hurt me like everyone always does but you love me like no one else does.” He shakes his head, and you can see his free eye glisten with his held back tears. “Oh, Yoongi.” You swallow back a sob. “Don’t,” He cuts you off, “I don’t know what this is. I can’t decide right now. I just know that I needed to be with someone who doesn’t hate me.” He explains, allowing an angry tear to fall. You wrap your arms around him, his face buried in your chest. “I don’t care what happens after tonight. I just want to be here for you.” You kiss into the top of his head, allowing him to dig his hands into your hips and pull you closer to him. “Let me draw you a bath. It will make you feel better. Wait here.” You walk off to your room and into your attached bathroom. You sit on the side of the tub and begin to fill it with warm water, bubbles, and bath salts. You go back into your room to grab fresh towels and find Yoongi already undressing. You gasp and shift your eyes down to the floor. You hear him chuckle. “Shy doesn’t suit you baby.” He says, standing before you completely naked. Your eyes water at the sight of fresh bruising forming on his ribs. You feel your face flush as he walks over to you and takes your face in his hand. “Will you join me?” He whispers, rubbing his lips over yours and it takes everything in you to not pull him into a kiss. “If you want me too.” He just nods and walks into the bathroom, shutting off the running water.

You undress quickly and head into the bathroom to find Yoongi submerged up to his nose. You thank the heavens that you convinced your father to get the larger soaking tub installed. He shifts only his eyes over to you which causes you to giggle. He slowly slides his body up and waves for you to join him. You gently enter the tub, being sure not to lean against his battered chest but you are caught by surprise when he tugs you towards him. “Yoongi,” You tense up, “I shouldn’t put pressure on these.” “It’s ok, I just need you close.” He tugs at you again until your back is resting against his chest. You suddenly feel emotional and feel the need to tell him everything you’re thinking. “I’ve missed you so much. I’m so sorry Yoongi. I was so stupid. I need you to know I never had sex with Jimin. I don’t know what he said…” “Please stop talking. Just lay here with me.” He cuts you off, frustration lacing his voice. You release a slow sigh and allow your body to relax into his, laying your head in his neck. He rubs his left hand up your arm until it rests on your shoulder and rest his right hand on your belly. His breathing becomes calm and you wonder if he is falling asleep. After a few moments you nuzzle into his neck causing him to moan. Now knowing he isn’t asleep; you decide to inquire on his evening. “Do you want to talk about what happened?” You whisper. “No.” He clips. You raise your body up off his and straddle him instead, taking his face in your hands. “I am big shit in this city. My father knows so many people. I don’t know what happened or why your dad did this but I swear I can make sure he never touches you again.” He licks over his swollen lip, smirking at you. “Who said it was my father? Besides, I don’t need you to protect me but it makes me feel good to know you would call your daddy if ever I needed saving.” “I’m fucking serious Yoongi. I don’t ever want to see you like this again.” He pushes his back up away from the tub and pulls you into a gentle kiss. You melt into his soft lips, opening your mouth for his warm tongue to tease masterfully against yours. You moan into the kiss, nibbling at his top lip while reaching down to stroke his growing erection as it presses against your belly. “Make me cum brat.” He pants into your mouth.

Min:

Yoongi can’t stop kissing her, her soft mouth on his, driving him wild with need. His heart ached at her valiant attempt to provide him comfort, as if she could really protect him. No one could save him now. He can’t help but let a moan escape when she gently begins to pump his cock beneath the water. A flush of relief washes over his body. “I missed you too.” He admits, hitching his hips up as she gently glides his tip through her folds with every up stroke. He breaks free from her mouth and peppers kisses down her neck until he meets her collar bone, kissing and suckling at her exposed skin leaving a perfect purple mark on her flesh. He needed to claim her, show everyone she belongs to him. She shoves him back against the porcelain tub and begins to pump him faster using just her right hand in long languid strokes, being sure to run her thumb against the flesh on the underside of his sensitive tip. “God, how I’ve missed this cock.” She mewls, using her upper arms to squeeze her tits together. Yoongi takes one of her perky mounds in his hand as she continues her steady pace, dropping her free left hand from Yoongi’s chest down to massage his balls. Yoongi throws his head back against the tub in pure bliss as his body catches fire. “Don’t stop. Don’t fucking stop.” He pants as he feels his climax rise up. “I’m gonna cum.” He cries out, calling out her name as long white strands shoot out into the bath water. He is completely out of breath and still hard. He looks up into her lustful eyes, wanting so much more of her. “You really didn’t fuck him?” Yoongi asks, he can’t help himself. He needed to know the truth. She shakes her head frantically. “No. I swear it. I couldn’t stop thinking of you.” Yoongi’s heart flips at her confession. He knew he had no right to ask her, having fooled around with Lisa, albeit it was his attempt at retaliation for what he assumed happened. “Couldn’t stop thinking of me huh?” “No, you’re all I want. I need you, so bad. Please.” She whines. Yoongi’s cock twitches at her desperation for him. “Please what?” He moans, grabbing one of her full tits in his hand again and squeezing. “Please, sir.” He plants a kiss on her lips before they step out of the tub. She grabs a towel, attempting to hand it to him. He tilts his head to the side and instead drop to his knees in front of her. “Yoongi.” Is all that escapes her lips before he yanks her by the ass and brings her to his face. He slowly licks a long trail through her folds from her taint to her clit. Her moans echo through the bathroom while Yoongi buries his face deeper within her sopping cunt.

He places her right leg onto his shoulder while resting her plump ass on the side of the tub. He begins to suck on her full folds slowly, loving the soft mewls that escape her as he carefully takes each one between his lips. He swears she’s the most delicious woman he’s ever tasted. She bucks forward with a gasp as he wraps his mouth around her clit, sucking on it hard, becoming intoxicated on her scent and taste. She whines lustfully as he releases her sweet bud, moving down to her entrance. He looks up at her to catch a glimpse of her biting her lower lip as he begins to slowly fuck her with his tongue. He dives in and out of her, lapping up her arousal with lurid slurps and moans. She tangles her hands in his hair, alternating between calling his name out and cursing. When he feels her juices trail along his chin he moves back up to her swollen bud, taking it into his mouth again, sucking and licking in circles, driving her wild. He feels her inner thighs tremble and he knows she’s close. He lifts his right hand up and moistens two fingers with her lust before sliding them into her soaked cunt. She cries out from deep in her throat and Yoongi can feel his cock get harder than it’s ever been. “Whose needy cunt is this?” He asks between laps. “Fuck, it’s yours, it’s fucking yours sir.” She says out of breath, grinding into Yoongi’s face. He curls his two fingers up rubbing against that sweet spongy spot deep inside of her, and he can feel her walls begin to clench around him. “Say my name.” He pants. “Yoongi, fuck, Yoongi, I, I’m, fuck……Ahh.” She shrieks into the room. Her walls quivering, legs shaking, and breathing labored as Yoongi continues to lap at her cunt, riding her through her climax. “I can’t, it’s too much.” She gasps her body trembling. “Who’s pussy is this?” Yoongi asks continuing to lick at her overstimulated bud. “Yours, God, please, it’s yours.” Yoongi finally releases her, pleased with her response. He moves his mouth down, trailing kisses along her inner thigh before placing another purple mark, this time on the center of her inner thigh. She sucks in a breath watching Yoongi work. He slowly removes his mouth from her thigh, observing his handy work with a smile, and slowly stands, pulling her into a kiss. She runs her hand over his cock and he hums in approval. “I want you inside me.” She slowly strokes him, pushing him towards her bed. “I need to feel you deep inside me.”

Y/N:

He smirks suggestively as you push him closer and closer to your bed. He yanks you by your neck into another desperate kiss once you arrive at your destination. You get lost in this kiss however, it’s tender and gentle, so unlike him. He spins you slowly, switching places with you. He takes your bottom in his large hands, lifting you onto the edge of the bed. He trails kisses down your neck, taking your erect nipple into his mouth, hungrily sucking and nibbling on it. He releases with a quiet pop and gently guides you to lay on your back while he aligns himself between your thighs. He drags your body down by the backs of your thighs towards his drooling tip, wrapping your legs around his waist. “My God, Yoongi.” You cry out feeling his swollen head glide between your folds. “Please don’t tease me.” You mewl, pushing your hips forward. He slowly pushes into your entrance. His mouth falls open and your eyes roll back as he slowly adds inch by inch of his cock into you. “So, fucking, tight.” He growls, taking a moment once he bottoms out to allow you to adjust to his size. You buck your hips impatiently and he nods pulling out all the way to his tip and slowly entering you again, stretching you in the best way possible. “No one fills me like you!” You praise. Yoongi hums and begins to slide in and out of you at a methodically slow pace, his mouth wide, you can see he’s savoring every stroke. Still, you can’t help but lift your hips to meet his torturous thrusts. He grasps your waist to still you and continues to roll his hips upwards, releasing a sobbed moan into your room. “You feel so good Yoongi, please, fuck me harder, faster.” He smiles seductively, taking you by the back of the neck and pulling you up so you’re face to face with him, his cock pushing further inside you. “I don’t want to fuck you tonight,” He whispers into your ear, extending his hands down your back, and taking your ass into his large palms. He lifts you off the bed slightly and begins to glide you across his cock, still keeping with his original rhythm. You whimper into his neck feeling your core tighten as your clit rubs against his shaft. “God, Yoongi, feels so good.” You pant into his neck. Yoongi lifts you fully and climbs atop the bed, lying you on your back once more and repositioning himself between your thighs. He takes you in a full deep kiss, swirling his tongue around yours. “Ready to cum baby?” He moans softly, grinding against your G-spot. “Yes please sir. I want to cum all over your cock.” You mewl as he begins to hasten his pace, dropping a hand between you both to twirl circles against your clit. He drives himself harder into you, his tip pressing into your cervix. Your core ignites, as you feel that coil deep inside you tighten and suddenly explode. “Fuck Yoongi, I’m cumming.” You cry out as white-hot waves crash over you causing you to clench your pussy tightly around Yoongi. He releases an animal like moan into your neck, his pace becoming sloppy. “Fuck! Me too baby.” Yoongi cries out and you can feel his cock twitching inside of you, filling you to the brim with his hot seed. He continues to thrust through his climax, taking your mouth into a ravenous kiss. You moan lustfully, feeling the slickness of his cum dripping down from your cunt and onto your sheets. He releases you from the kiss, out of breath and looks you over, making no attempt to remove himself from inside you. He presses his forehead against yours and you glide your hands down his back. “Yoongi,” You whisper, running your hands back up his back and into his hair. “Yeah baby?” “I love you.” Your voice cracks at your confession.

MIN:

Yoongi sighs deeply, planting a kiss on her cheek. He wanted so badly to say those words back to her. He felt his heart swell as she looked at him longingly, seeing the truth of those words in her eyes. He swallows down the large lump in his throat and slowly pulls out of her. He makes his way into the bathroom to grab a towel. He brings it back to her and begins to clean her up. He can feel the tension fill the room as she stares at him nervously. “Yoongi.” She whispers. “I should go.” He declares once she’s clean. “Please don’t. I shouldn’t have said that. I meant what I said about wanting to be here for you. I’m sorry.” “No, don’t be sorry. It’s just, I’m just, I’m fucked up Y/N. I’m no good. You shouldn’t want to love me.” She pulls Yoongi towards her until he is forced to stretch his body out on the bed. She cuddles into his side, head resting on his chest, Yoongi feels so at ease with her so why on earth couldn’t he just say the words? After the blow-up with his father, Yoongi drank himself stupid until his head was running a million miles a minute. It wasn’t until you came across his mind that he felt his thoughts ease and he decided he needed to see you. How long had it been, he wondered? Two months? Two months too long. A soft kiss on his bruised ribs jolts him from his head. “Penny for your thoughts.” She lifts her head to look up at him. He strokes her cheek gently, taking in her beauty. “You are mine and I am yours. Do you remember me saying that to you?” He asks, reminding her of the first thing he ever told her the first time they were intimate. She nods. “I meant those words then and I mean them more now. I can’t be without you and I can’t stand the thought of anyone else having you. Seeing you kiss your ex brought up so many different emotions. Betrayal is the one that initially comes to mind. Then, meeting him and hearing him say you’d been together. I wanted to kill him over just the thought that he had his hands all over you,” Yoongi slides his body up so he’s resting his back on her headboard and she has no choice but to sit up and face him, “It may seem odd to you based off of my demeanor but I don’t cheat. If I make a commitment to you then I keep that commitment but if you burn me, I can promise, you and I are done. You burned me Y/N and even still I’m having a hard time forgetting you. I think that’s the worst part of this.” Yoongi looks her over, she’s deep in thought. “So, how do we move past this? I want to make it better.” She says. “I need you to be honest with me, always. Do I have anything to worry about with your ex? Is there any truth to what he’s saying? I mean why would you kiss him in the first place?” Yoongi had so many questions, questions he could see were making Y/N uncomfortable.

She shifted her body so she was closer to his. “I want to say that I needed some sort of closure but that would be a lie. I’m just stupid. I am so used to fucking up and still getting my way that it didn’t occur to me that my actions would affect you. The truth is no one has ever been able to make me feel and think about anyone other than myself until I met you. Now I find myself wanting nothing more than to be around you and please you. I fucked up Yoongi and I am so fucking sorry. I don’t want to lose you. I swear nothing more than that kiss happened and nothing will ever happen again. I am yours and you are mine.” She shrugs. Yoongi furrows his brow, searching her face for any doubt. “Come here.” Yoongi says as he leans in and plants a kiss on her lips. She practically melts into him. “Don’t betray me again brat.” He whispers into her lips. “I won’t. I promise.” Yoongi claims her mouth again, this time slower, filling it with his emotions. She moans softly. Once they part, he looks over her face, his heart racing, nerves taking over. “I love you too.” He confesses, feeling a heavy weight lifted from his shoulders.

Y/N:

You wake up feeling the best you ever have, rolling over to find a snoozing Yoongi beside you. After his confession last night, you both kissed until you fell asleep in each other’s arms. “Yoongi, I love you.” You whisper. Yoongi mumbles whilst rolling onto his back, sighing deeply, clearly still asleep. You kiss his cheek gently and climb out of bed, checking your phone. You find a message from your BFF. “On the way with your ride.” “Shit.” You whisper, checking the time to see an hour has passed since she sent the message. You hop in the shower and dress in shorts and an oversized sweater, pondering on how you can convince Yoongi to stay in all day with you. When you emerge from the bathroom you find Yoongi still fast asleep. You smile to yourself at the thought of him being this comfortable with you. Suddenly the doorbell rings and you jump up at the sound. Yoongi only sighs again. He must be extremely exhausted after the night he had; you think to yourself. You head out of your room to answer the door. “Hey bitch!” Your best friend smiles brightly at you. “Hey yourself.” You whisper. She pushes past you and you quickly trail behind her. “Here are your car keys, I can’t stay too long Joon is outside waiting to drive me home. How was your night? I know you hate the rain.” She looks you over suspiciously. “It was good. Quiet you know. How about yours? Did you and Joon…you know?” You raise and shimmy your brows at her. She giggles nervously before nodding hard. “Holy shit girl! About damn time! How was it?” “Amazing! He’s gently and kind and strong if you know what I mean.” She laughs. “Ew, TMI!” “Well anyway, it was a great night. I’m sorry our girls night got interrupted though. I’ll make it up to you another night. How about later?” “Uh, I don’t know. Maybe tomorrow, I might just stay in today.” “Girl, you cannot lay in bed crying over this Min boy nonsense. Besides, he wouldn’t let Jimin eating you out bother him if he knew you didn’t even cum. He would probably be overjoyed at the thought. Men and their egos you know.” She rolls her eyes as you both hear rustling from down the hall. Your heart drops. “What was that? Is your dad home?” She covers her mouth nervously. You swallow hard but try to laugh it off. “No, he’s gone till next week. I forgot to put some clothes away after I washed them, they probably toppled over. Anyways, you should get going before Joon freaks.” She nods in response and pulls you into a hug. “Call me later if your bored.” “I will.” You walk her out and head nervously back to your room.

As you enter you find the bed empty, “Yoongi.“ You call out before being pulled by the hair into a hard kiss. Yoongi shoves you back towards your vanity, lifting you off your feet and sitting you atop it. You moan into his mouth, your hands finding their home in his hair whilst his hands grip your hips. He drags your aching core up and down his growing erection, moving his wet open mouth kisses down your jaw and neck. “Fuck Yoongi, I want you so bad.” You whine, raking your nails down his back. He bites down hard into the soft flesh of your neck causing you to cry out, your cotton thong sticking to your moist cunt. You reach down and rub at his cock through his briefs. “I want to suck your cock.” You whisper in his ear. Yoongi says nothing, he just grabs a fist full of your hair again and yanks your head back, suckling at your exposed neck. You pant and moan loudly as Yoongi slides his hand up your short leg and rubs at your clothed center. “Please don’t tease me.” You beg, hitching your hips forward. Yoongi just smirks, still gripping your hair tightly. He carefully slides your cotton barrier to the side and glides his middle finger between your slit, coating it in your juices. He brings it up to his lips but before he inserts it in his mouth, he looks over to you lustfully. “Open.” You pant desperately and do as your told. He waste no time shoving his soaked finger in your mouth, allowing you time to suck your own juices from his finger. He grips your face with his remaining free fingers, causing the one in your mouth to glide dangerously close to the back of your throat. You take a deep breath to calm your gag reflex. He releases his grip on your hair and pulls your face towards him, “See how sweet your cunt taste? It’s no wonder all the men in this shit city want a piece of you.” Your eyes go wide and your heart races as you wonder if he overheard your conversation with your BFF. He pulls his hand from your face. “Yoongi…” You start before he quickly shoves two fingers inside your sopping pussy. You gasp at the feeling of pleasure that courses through you and immediately forget what it was you wanted to say. Yoongi curls his fingers inside you, stealing the moan that escapes your mouth with an aggressive kiss. He expertly fucks your cunt, his fingers moving in and out of you at a toe curling speed. The lurid sounds of your moisture and moans filling the room. “My greedy little brat loves getting finger fucked huh?” Yoongi grunts, wrapping his free hand around your throat. “Yes, fuck, God. Yes!” “Yes what?” “Yes sir! Fuck, yes sir! I fucking love it!” You practically shriek as he applies pressure to your clit with his thumb and you can’t help but grind your hips up with every circular movement he makes on your sensitive bud. You feel your core burn as your climax fast approaches. Yoongi clamps down on your neck causing you to grab his wrist as you pant desperately with your rising orgasm. He stares at you, mouth opened, with lust filled eyes, watching your every reaction. You whimper as your walls clench, “Fuck, sir, I’m gonna cum.” Yoongi smirks, pulling his fingers from you abruptly. You try to raise your body up in protest but he keeps you down with his tighten grip on your throat. He yanks your short leg and thong to the side again shoving his cock into you without warning. You cry out at the burning mix of pain and pleasure.

He yanks you forward into a painful kiss, your teeth clashing with his. You attempt to speak but Yoongi’s forceful thrust keep your head too dizzy to forms coherent sentences. “Does my brat like getting fucked stupid?” Yoongi growls between clenched teeth into your ear. You can only mewl and whimper, choosing to show your satisfaction by thrusting your hips forward to meet his. “I’m gonna cum into this needy cunt.” He whispers into your ear and you nod frantically, dying to feel his cock twitch inside you. You lower your hand from his wrist to attempt to rub your swollen clit but Yoongi uses his free hand to stop you, crying out as he fills your cunt with his hot seed. You clench around him, whining and thrusting trying to build up your high while Yoongi rides out his. “Don’t stop.” You plead. Yoongi releases your hand and you immediately drop it down to your needy bud, rubbing frantically as Yoongi continues to thrust into you. “Yes, fuck yes, don’t stop, I’m right there. God.” You cry out as your walls tremble. Yoongi kisses you hard and yanks his member from your aching walls. “What the fuck!?” You shout, swatting at Yoongi who steps back and begins dressing. “Tell me brat, is that what it felt like when Jimin left you wanting? Or do I do it better?” Your jaw drops as you watch him finish dressing. “Yoongi, you don’t understand.” You begin, sliding off the vanity. “That you’re a liar? No, I get that part. See, Y/N, I’ve been surrounded by liars my whole life. It’s no surprise to me that you’re one too.” “I didn’t want to hurt you Yoongi. It was insignificant.” He huffs at your comment, standing as he finishes lacing his shoes. “Am I insignificant as well?” He cocks his head to the side. “No, I love you. Jimin means nothing to me.” He nods and moves towards the door. Your heart seizes at the sight. “Please don’t leave!” You yank at his arm. He pulls his arm from your grasp. “On your knees brat!” He shouts and immediately you do as your told, tears streaming down your face. “Yoongi, please don’t leave like this. I’m sorry.” He walks over to you, pulling your face up by your chin. “My gorgeous brat,” He whispers, rubbing your wet cheek, allowing you to lean into his hand, “Keep testing and pushing my love because in the end, you will submit. I’ve made the mistake in thinking I could let my guard down but that was just me being foolish. I know what my spoiled little brat needs.” He grips your hair and yanks your head back, rubbing his lips across yours. “She needs to be punished. Craves it even.” He whispers before kissing you deeply. “Yoongi please, I’m sorry, I love you.” “I will forgive you for lying in exactly two weeks’ time. Let’s call it a cooling period. A time for reflection. Until then, you’ll be a good girl for me, wont you?” He looks over you lovingly and you can’t help but nod in response, wanting so bad to please him. He kisses you again. “See you then brat. You can stand when I’m gone.” He releases you and walks out, slamming the door behind him. You cup your aching cunt and drop to the floor, groaning in defeat, knowing Yoongi was right. You would always push but in the end you would always submit.

#bts smut #suga x reader #suga x you #yoongi smut

177 notes · View notes

tweedlydumbtweedlydoo · 4 years ago

Text

Rafe Cameron x reader (pt 1)

Summary: You, a pogue and Rafe Cameron, a kook are friends of benefits, secretly of course. But what happens when you get pregnant?

A/N: Soooo I may or may not make this into a series??? I started writing and couldn’t stop and actually wrote out 2 more parts to this if you guys are interested :)

OBX Tag list is at the end. Let me know if you want to be added xx

**MASTERLIST**

Requests: {OPEN} CLOSED

I am currently taking requests for:

The Vampire Diaries/The Originals

Elijah Mikaelson

Damon Salvatore

Criminal Minds:

Spencer Reid

Derek Morgan

Supernatural (I’m only up to season 2, so please don’t request something with spoilers)**

Sam Winchester

Dean Winchester

Outer Banks (Netflix):

John B Routledge

JJ Maybank

Rafe Cameron

********************************************************************************************

NOT MY GIF, CREDIT TO OWNERS

You and Rafe never meant to hook up in the first place. You two were supposed to hate each other, being from opposites sides of the island and raised different ways but alcohol will make you not care who you’re with if you’ve had enough of it. It was a late night at the Boneyard. You ventured out to the beach, away from the party, when Rafe had followed you. He plopped down next to you in the sand, equally as drunk as you. A few glances at each other and you two were tongue tied, laying in the sand. You two found a quiet and secret spot on the beach and hooked up, then passed out in each other’s arms. You woke up the next morning still wrapped in his arms. You had quickly moved away from him and pulled on your clothes, cursing yourself for letting yourself fall into bed or in this case, the sand, with a kook, the biggest kook asshole of all. He found himself thinking the same thing about you. So, you two decided to never speak of it again. It was all just a drunken mistake.

However, a week later at the next party, you two found yourselves in the same place. Then the next week, and the week after that. Eventually you began sneaking around, you at his house when his family was gone or vice versa. It was just sex at first, but then something out of the blue happened.

“Do you want to go out to dinner tomorrow? You know… like a date?” Rafe had asked one evening. He rubbed the back of his neck nervously as he stared at you.

You were taken back, but you surprised yourself by agreeing, “Sure.”

The next day the two of you took the ferry off the island, away from anyone who could see the two of you together, into Greenville, NC, a short two hour drive and spent the day walking around shops, getting ice cream and later dinner. It was a nice day to the two of you. There was no kook or pogue talk. It was just you and Rafe.

After that, the two of you made it a weekly occurrence. Every Saturday was spent in Greenville, sometimes you ventured to other cities around there. Both of you lied to your family or friends if asked about Saturday’s. Rafe would tell Kelce and Topper that his dad had business on the mainland he had to attend to. You would tell the pogues, you were working or spending time with family. They never second guessed you.

Everything was great until you and Rafe were strolling down the main street in Greenville, passing a small boutique that baby clothes in a window caught your eye. You opened your phone and checked the date. You had been so busy with Rafe you hadn’t even noticed; you were 3 weeks late.

“Hey, you okay?” Rafe had asked, giving a small squeeze to your hand.

You nodded, “Yeah, I’m great.” You faked a smile and put your phone back in your pocket. The next day you went to the store and bought a pregnancy test. 3 minutes later your life changed.

You waited a few days before you headed to Rafe’s. You knew you shouldn’t have stopped by but you couldn’t wait until Saturday, you needed to talk about it now. That was your first mistake.

When you arrived, it was too late. Rafe and other kooks, including Topper, Kelce and some other kook girls were hanging outside, sitting around a bonfire. They had already seen you.

“Rafe, what the hell is a pogue doing here?” Topper asked.

Rafe had looked up and saw you walking this way. His heart skipped a beat when he saw you, but he kept his face serious, “I’m not sure. Maybe I left something at the restaurant?” He asks, standing. The girl that was all over him, falling back on the couch.

Your heart dropped when you saw them, but there was no turning back now. Your heart broke when you saw Rafe and some girl cuddled on the couch.

“Pogue, what the hell are you doing here?” Topper shouted as you walked closer.

“I need to talk to Rafe.”

“Why would your pogue ass need to-” Topper started, but Rafe put his hand on Topper’s shoulder, interrupting him, “It’s fine, Topper.” He walked past Topper and roughly grabbed your arm, tugging you away from the group and back to your car.

“What the hell are you doing here, y/n?” Rafe snapped.

“Rafe let go of my arm.” You whimpered, trying to pull your arm away, but his grip only tightened, and he put you between him and your car.

“It was agreed we wouldn’t show up at each other’s houses.” He finally let go of your arm. When you got a good look at him, his eyes were red and dilated, white powder on his nose.

“Oh my god, are you high right now?” you asked, going up to rub the stuff off his nose, but he smacks your hand away, “What does it matter to you? You’re not the boss of me.”

“You’re high right now.” You breath out in disbelief, shaking your head, “What the fuck, Rafe?!”

“Oh, shut the fuck up. Stop bitching, it’s annoying.” He huffed, his hands going to his hips.

You were taken back by his tone. The Rafe you had come to know and love, gone and replaced with stranger. “Rafe… This isn’t you. You aren’t the one to get high and snort cocaine!”

His hand slapped your car right next to your head and you flinched. His face got close to yours, “You don’t know a damn thing about me. We had a few good fucks and that’s it.”

Your eyes filled with tears, “Rafe, come on you’re scaring me.”

He rolled his eyes, “Get the fuck out of here. I don’t want to see you again. You’re just a dirty pogue. a good fuck. That’s it. That’s all you were to me. Nothing more.” He seethed through his teeth before pulling from you and storming off back to his house.

The second mistake was thinking Rafe and you were more than fuck buddies or could be more than just a pogue and a kook.

You knew you couldn’t go home. Your parents were at home and you were a mess. Tears blinded your vision and your body raked with sobs as you drove. You knew where you needed to go. You needed your best friends.

You pulled up to the Chateau and was thankful to see the van, JJ’s bike and Kie’s car. You pulled yourself out of the car and trudged your way up to the door. You never knocked but you did anyways. You were probably a stranger to them, and you didn’t want to just walk right in. You had blown them off multiple times to see Rafe and you knew they probably didn’t even want to see you. When the door opened it was John B, “Well look who decided-” he begins but then takes in your appearance, “What’s wrong? What happened?” He quickly let out.

You let out a sob, hanging your head. He quickly pulled you into his arms, looking back at the other pogues who stood from their place on the chairs and couch.

“Shh… It’s okay.” He sooths, walking you inside and closing the door.

“What happened?” Kie asked, her hand going to your back.

“Who do we have to fuck up?” JJ pipes up, cracking his knuckles, “I’ll fuck them up.”

“We’ll take out whoever caused this.” Pope says.

You let out another sob, “You’re going to hate me.”

John B shook his head, “No we won’t. You’re our friend… tell us what happened.” He led you to the couch and sat you down, sitting next to you, his arm still wrapped around you. Kie sat on the other side and handed you a tissue.

JJ and Pope stood in front of you, arms crossed over their chests.

“It’s okay, y/n. You can tell us what happened.” Kie said softly.

You sniffled and wiped your tears, looking down at your hands, “I made a mistake. A big mistake…”

“It can’t be that bad. Unless you hooked up with a kook.” JJ laughed, but his laughter quickly dying down when he saw the look on your face.

“Oh shit.” Pope whispers.

You let out another sob, “I fucked up.”

John B slowly rubbed your back, “Tell us what happened.”

You sniffled and blew your nose before telling them the story about how you and Rafe hooked up, became friends with benefits then began dating. “……. And to top the cake I found out I was pregnant.” You then told them the story about how you went to Rafe and what happened.

The pogues listened to you tell your story, holding back any anger they had and never once interrupted you.

“So yeah. I fucked up.” You sniffled, glancing up at the pogues.

“I’m going to kill him.” John B stands from his seat.

“I’ll get the gun.” JJ says, standing from the floor.

“I’m with you guys.” Pope announces.

“Let’s kick some kook’s ass.” Kie says standing.

You quickly shook your head and stood, grabbing John B’s arm, “Please don’t start anything. Please.” Your eyes are pleading, “It’ll only make it worse for you guys.”

John B’s tense with anger and he softens to your touch, “Fine, I won’t leave now, but I’m not making any promises that I won’t kick his ass if I see him.” He wraps you in a hug and kisses your head, “You’re not alone in this.”

“Never.” JJ says, wrapping you in a hug.

“We’re family and we’ll always have your back.” Kie says, following suit.

“Pogues forever.” Pope says, wrapping his arms around Kie and JJ. It’s a pogue sandwich and you’re right in the middle. You telling the pogues what happened; that was not one of your mistakes. It was one of the best things you could have done for yourself.

PART 2

*****************************************************************************************************

A/N: Do I see something there with John B and reader?? Hmmm. Well, what do you guys think?? Should I do a part two?

OBX tag list: @emmalvei-blog , @tregua-oca , @weirdbiwitch , @losers-club6

668 notes · View notes

sope-and-shine · 4 years ago

Text

When World’s Collide: Pt. 1

-> Pairing: Moon God!Taehyung x Fate!Reader -> SFW // fluff, angst, humor // enemies to lovers!au, soulmate!au -> Word Count: 17.7k -> Summary: Taehyung has spent most of his life ignored by his peers and alone on his barren planet. So when a lonely King reaches out to him in hopes to bring his love to him, how could he ignore his plea? However, it’s not good to mess with fate, and it’s even worse to make the same mistake twice. -> Warnings: mild language, the reader is a bad bitch, minor character death, minor innuendos, Jimin is a hoe

a/n: THIS STORY IS DIRECTLY CONNECTED TO THE RIGHT OF A KING! YOU DON'T HAVE TO READ IT FIRST, BUT IT WOULD MAKE A LOT MORE SENSE IF YOU DO

Part 1 // Part 2 // Masterlist

At the beginning of the universe there was a big bang that created the planets and stars as we know it, and with the spread of these divine creations came the deities that would oversee them. Each being crafted from the magic that created the rest of their home in the cosmos, they take care of their planets and the other magical wonders that make up their home.

Taeyang - the Sun God - a jovial and bright spirit. He keeps the planets aligned and in motion when the Universe tips off balance. He holds each of the 9 planets accountable and they trust him to lead the way, as do the higher deities. Universe, Cosmos, Galaxy, Life, Death, and Fate - the 6 high deities that make up the universe. Without one, then the home that they share would not function as easily as it does. They trust the other deities to do their jobs no matter how big or small, and it’s that trust that makes their home run so smoothly.

Taehyung has always understood this. From the day he first opened his eyes, he’s always known where his place has been within the hierarchy of the solar system. He’s a lonely planet in the shadow of the Earth, left to hear the calls of the humans for their home planet but never for him. To those that stare up at him, he is but a night light in the vast expanse of space.

When you’re a low tier deity - much like those of the dwarf planets - you’re not as needed as others. Earth is always busy with his humans, and to find him when the deities meet is a truly rare occurrence - to find any high deity other than the Sun, Universe, Galaxy, and Fate was a true miracle. They all have important jobs that keep life on Earth flourishing and the planets orbiting around the Sun and stars lit in the sky, and he’s just there as an afterthought.

No one asks for Taehyung the Moon God. No one knows about him. No one needs him. He rests on a single rock in the sky with no one to talk to and no one to help.

He just exists.

There are some days where he’ll sit on the dark side of his planet and sit in the silence. He’ll create his own world and pretend that he is a great and powerful being with many friends and a bounty of people to look up to him. He’ll stay in that dream for days and weeks on end, and his only wish is to remain there.

On days where he’ll roam the other half of his home, he’ll sit and listen close to the tiny voices calling from Earth. He’ll listen in on their conversations and talk back as if they were talking to him for once.

“Yes, you may have a dog very soon.”

“Your brother is sick? Give him two days and he’ll be all better!”

“You wish to meet? I wish we could, but I am just a deity and you are a human.”

Hours he’d spend talking to himself and pretending that he was helping others. For that short period of time that he amused himself, he always felt lighter and like he was more than just the Moon.

It was one day talking to himself that he finally heard it. The plea was loud and bold - almost as if the person was sitting right next to him - and it had him scrambling to his feet faster than he could leave for another planet.

“Moon Goddess, please hear my prayer. I need your help,” An unfamiliar male voice pleads. Taehyung looks around, but there’s no sign of life anywhere around him. The voice continues, “Please...I no longer wish to be alone.”

It feels like a punch to the gut to have someone begging him - for him of all people - to help them feel less lonely. How could he help if he couldn’t even make real friends of his own. What was he supposed to do for him that he couldn’t do himself?

“Please...I do so much for my people and I love them with everything I am, but I can’t do this alone anymore!” The pain in the human’s voice hits Taehyung deep, deeper than anything he’s heard before. Perhaps it’s because for once, he’s the one being called upon instead, “I know this is too much to ask, but I beg of you. Just a lover or even a friend would do. But I can’t be lonely like this anymore.”

Had he said anything else then maybe Taehyung would have ignored him.

Had it not been so long that he himself had been alone, he wouldn’t have answered.

But Taehyung finds himself on Earth without a second thought, hiding behind a tree in what he can only describe as a human village. Men and women walk along a dirt path lined with miniature buildings, each one containing what looks to be food or crafts. Children run wildly between the legs of adults, and each person - young or old - that he sees wears beautiful clothing much different from his.

“Strange...” The god muses to himself.His peers were no stranger to beautiful clothing, but theirs were far from what these humans wear. Colorful silks layered over each other, simple yet beautiful. Taehyung finds himself completely entranced.

Instead of jumping out into the open, the god sticks to the shadows. He tiptoes behind stalls, peeking around the corner to watch the crowd as they pass by. He observes the way they walk and the way they interact with each other, wanting nothing more than to place himself in their conversations. But no one but Namjoon could talk to him.

If he were to bring too much attention to himself, then the other deities would figure him out before he could help Namjoon. To complete his mission, he would have no choice but to remain a secret to only the king and those within his home. No one could know about him.

It takes him a while to get through town, but Taehyung finally stumbles upon the royal castle. “Is this really a human home?” He asks himself.

The long, fenced path that leads him to the gated palace is beautiful. It’s decorated with flower bushes and lanterns every few feet. The palace itself stands tall above the gate it’s encased in. It’s much more extravagant than what he’d imagined of a human, “It’s much larger than the ones on the way here.”

A woman comes around the side of the gate wearing beautiful garments of white and pink, a basket in her hands filled with fruits. Her clothes are gorgeous, and compared to Taehyung’s own clothing, she fits in better among the people he’s seen.

“Her clothes are so beautiful.” He says aloud, admiring the swish of the fabric as she enters the grounds past the guards. Looking down at his own clothes, Taehyung pouts, “I guess I don’t fit in…” Taehyung thinks back to the beautiful pieces he’s seen in such a short time already. He’d need something just as beautiful and as comfortable as theirs.

Without much of a second thought, Taehyung uses what magical prowess he has to make himself his own white and baby blue attire to help himself blend in. His hair he decides to let down, layered on his shoulders. His new attire makes him feel somehow more powerful, and he can’t stop the proud smile that spreads on his face, “Much better.”

Taehyung makes his approach to the gate where he saw his inspiration enter, smiling brightly at the stone-faced guards that eye him wearily. The guard to the left of the doors puts a hand out in front of him, “Stop! What business do you have here?”

“What business?” Taehyung stops to think. He hadn’t thought much about human society or their culture. His plan was to show up and talk to the King, he didn’t expect to be put at a standstill so close to his destination. Without thinking much of it, he turns his nose up, “I’m here on the King’s business.”

The guard on the right takes a step forward, “The King didn’t send for anyone.”

“He called for me.” Taehyung assures them, not letting the inconvenience stop him. No matter what, he had to find a way in to see the King. Even if he had to lie his way through. “He sent me a letter himself.”

The left guard holds out his hand, “I want the letter.”

The God’s stomach drops, “I don’t have it anymore, he-...” He pauses for just a moment, “-he told me to get rid of it!”

The guard holding out his hand pulls it back and shrugs, “If it’s gone then we can’t let you in.”

The guard to his right moves forward to lead him away, but Taehyung is quick to protest, “Wait! Can’t you just take a message to him from me so he knows that I’m here? I’ll wait.”

“This is ridiculous.” The guard trying to corral him scoffs. He tries to grab him again, but Taehyung moves away once more.

“The King said it was urgent that I get here!” Taehyung insists. He tries to think of any excuse that could help him, any lie that would get him past these guards.

And then it hits him.

Pulling himself together, Taehyung stands with a certain air of false confidence, “It would be a shame if you not letting me in upsets him.”

Both guards tense at the mention of their King upset, the both of them having witnessed his temper before. Neither wanted to see their King angry again, and it showed on their faces. Taehyung considers it a win when the guard in front of him backs away with a narrowed gaze, “What’s your message?”

Taehyung is careful with his wording. He can’t outright say he is the Moon God, too many people would find out and then he’d have to deal with the higher deities coming after him. “Tell him that I read his prayer and I’m here to help. I’ll solve all of his problems just as he asked when the moon was full.”

This excuse is just enough.

The guard in front of him scoffs, “This sounds like nothing of importance.”

“Then your King won’t take long to turn me away.” He glares at Taehyung, but he enters the gates to deliver his message anyways. His companion steps in front of the two doors as they close, staring down at the God.

It only takes what feels like a few moments - for Taehyung - before the Guard returns. He looks angry, but he sighs when he meets Taehyung’s gaze, “He’ll see you.”

The god walks with a bounce in his step as he follows after the disgruntled guard. He pays no mind to the man's emotions, his only focus on the palace around him. Many women and children walk the grounds in groups, somewhere the number of children overpower the adults. More guards walk at ease around them and more at ease than the one that guides him. None of them seem to even realize just how beautiful their home really is, but Taehyung is completely in awe of its beauty.

They come to a stop in front of a closed set of doors, the guard turning around to face Taehyung before he pushes one side open for the god to enter before him. The room is large, a high ceiling being held by long red pillars that line both sides of the room. The floor is covered in tile instead of wood like the hallway, the center tiles a different color and creates a path to the large throne that sits at the other end of the room.

On top of this throne sits a man wearing deep red silks embroidered with gold. His dark hair sits in a bun on the top of his head with a gold piece holding it in place. On his lap is a closed book, resting between hands that tremble as they hold to his robes. With such beautiful silks and the elegance that radiates off his aura, this man is in no doubt the King that called to him.

When he notices Taehyung’s arrival, he stands from his throne, “Welcome-!” His book falls to his feet and the King scrambles to pick it up and place it on his throne. He clears his throat and fixes his posture, “I’ve been waiting for you.”

The guard next to Taehyung bows and he follows suit, careful not to step on his new clothes. When he stands tall again, Taehyung smiles, “I apologize for taking so long.”

“That’s quite alright.” The King assures him. He turns his attention to the guard at Taehyung’s side, “You may leave us.” The man bows his head and leaves, closing the door behind him and leaving the god and the King alone.

When Taehyung is sure no one else will hear them, he smiles, “I have to say, I’m very impressed with the way you humans have made your homes.” He looks around the walls of the room and the lanterns that bring light to it, “I have to admit, there’s much more light than I’m used to.”

Namjoon sighs in relief and places a hand over his heart, “So you really are the Moon Goddess-“ The title throws the god off guard. “-I was hoping I hadn’t misread the situation.”

“Uh...yes. I am the deity of the Moon.” Taehyung chuckles awkwardly, “I think there’s actually been a-”

“When I prayed the other night begging for your help, I thought I had finally gone crazy!” Namjoon makes slow steps off of his throne and to the brunette. He stops in front of him, standing just a few inches taller with a look of pure wonder and merriment, “But you’re here. You’re right here.” He reaches out to touch his shoulders but he stops himself, not wanting to offend the deity in front of him in any way, “Do Gods and Goddesses wear hanboks as well?”

“Not quite. We wear robes of silk in whatever form is most comfortable. I made this myself.” Taehyung turns from side to side, adding in a slow turn for the king to see the extent of his handiwork.

“Remarkable~”

“Yes, I suppose it is. Now, about me being the Goddess-”

“Yes! Moon Goddess. I’m still letting it all sink in.” The king places a hand to his temple - almost as if scolding himself for possibly forgetting. He shakes his head with a pleased smile and returns his attention to the god, “You really shouldn’t have bothered with the guards.”

“Right, well, I didn’t have your exact location to find you. My magic really onl-”

“Magic?!” Namjoon repeats. The mention of magic seems to startle him more than the man being a god - or goddess in his own words, “Of course you would use magic. How else would you be able to come here to me? How does it work?”

“Oh...well, I- uh…” In the eons that Taehyung has existed, he’s never once thought about his powers as anything but just that. He’s never questioned having magic, he just knows that he can use it, he knows how he can use it, and that it can be finicky even for him. Not once has he ever considered there was more to it than that. “I’m not sure how to describe it.”

Namjoon nods, “That’s fair. I suppose it would be hard to explain something you’re born with.”

“Speaking of things that we’re born with-”

“So, what’s your plan?” Namjoon asks, unintentionally interrupting the god before he does something to expose himself.

“My plan?” Taehyung repeats.

Namjoon nods, “You said you’d take care of all of my problems. I assume you have a plan.”

“Yes...A plan!” Taehyung tries to let the reminder of his words sink in, but off the top of his head, he can’t remember creating a real plan. “I do have a plan.”

On his trip down, he never considered that he’d need a real plan. He only planned to help him out and leave. It didn’t cross his mind that he should probably make a plan before meeting with a human king.

Something for him to remember in the future.

Taehyung thinks for a moment. He ignores the impatient stare that Namjoon gives him, and racks his brain for anything that could possibly help him obtain what he wants.

And then it hits him.

“A necklace!” He announces, “I’ll make one to attract your soulmate.”

“My soulmate?” Namjoon repeats with furrowed brows, “I don’t understand.”

“When the universe was born and all of the planets came along with it, the humans of Earth were created as well.” Taehyung gestures for the king to follow him to the back of his throne room where the large window resides, “The Earth God once told me that his humans were more focused on survival and protecting the other half born to them than worshiping him. He got so angry with them that he took it upon himself to split them apart.”

Outside Namjoon’s window, he can see into the garden of his palace. There are a few stragglers that still bring in baskets of goods, and some who walk slow to enjoy the fresh air, “He forced them to live their lives searching for their other half and worshiping him and the gifts he gave them.”

“That’s so sad.”

“Yeah, he made Fate angry that day.” Taehyung can still hear Fate’s cries of rage and anguish she threw at his friend that day. If she weren’t a peaceful entity, then she probably would have knocked him around too, “She nearly stripped him of his power against the higher council, but they gave him another chance.”

Namjoon nods, taking in the information the god has given him with practiced poise. He takes a look into his own garden and thinks about all of his friends and his people that spend their days working and looking for love, “Why would he do that?”

“I think - because he’s so lively and outgoing, and he has such a huge responsibility - that he doesn’t understand his humans as much as he likes to think he does.” Taehyung can’t help but think of where his friend could be at this very moment. ‘They’re just humans, Taehyung, if one dies then Life brings me another.’ His friend once told him with a shrug, as if his humans weren’t the most interesting and complicated creatures he was tasked to take care of, “To him, he has so many of you to choose from. So, he just does whatever he wants.”

“But you’ll bring mine to me?”

“I will.”

“When do we get started?”

Namjoon’s question takes a minute for Taehyung to answer. Given the circumstances he won’t know any different what he says, but even so, this process is one the god has never tried before, “I can start as soon as tomorrow.”

“Is there anything I can do for you? Food, water, ingredients?”

“No, food and water are trivial for me.” Taehyung waves the offer away. Food and water were human resources, things he could have but didn’t truly need. His biggest problem would be to stay in hiding, “However, you shouldn’t tell anyone else about who I really am.”

“No?”

“Gods and Goddesses only visit humans so often when called. Others will get jealous and take it out on you. I don’t want that to happen.” Not a lie, but not the truth. It’s better that way anyways.

“I can say you’re a new advisor. An excuse to stay within my palace and be near me.” Namjoon offers, earning an appreciative nod from the god, “Do you have a name? What should I call you?”

“Call me...Jihye.” Taehyung smiles. His new female persona will work nice while he stays with the humans, “Jihye will do just fine.”

---

For two weeks, Taehyung has spent everyday using as much magic as he can to create the necklace he promised Namjoon. At first, he wasn’t sure exactly how he would complete it. To attract a soulmate you have to have a piece of them. With no clue where Namjoon’s soulmate was, or even a way to find them, he had to think of anything that would help him.

And then he had a thought.

Two halves of the same soul. Namjoon still has a connection with his soulmate even if they were separated from him. The smallest drop of his blood on a rock from his home would help the God to attract the other half ten-fold. Namjoon was more than willing to provide anything that would help him. Now, with glittering pink gems created from Namjoon’s blood as his soulmate’s heart, Taehyung just has to wait for the effects to take place.

“Lady Jihye?” A servant calls from the hall. Taehyung calls out for her to come in and she enters, “You have a visitor.”

He smiles, “You can let them in, thank you.” She nods her head and backs out of his room.

Against his better judgement, Taehyung allowed himself to take on this Jihye persona. It wouldn’t look right if he only spoke to the King and snuck around to speak to him. As long as no one knows he’s the Moon God - or Goddess as Namjoon knows him as - then he’d be alright.

Another knock is placed on the door before it opens up to reveal the same servant, “This way, ma’am.”

“Thank you.” Taehyung freezes.

It’s been so long since he’d last been to a council meeting, but he’d never forget the sound of your voice. You were always present and always checking in. He should have never doubted your ability to find people.

When you step past the servant in your own hanbok similar to his - this one purple and pink with white accents - you’re sure to meet his eye with a stare that could make Death weep. In the centuries it had been since he'd seen you, you had let your hair grow longer. It pulled your outfit together in a nice updo he had seen the other woman wearing around the palace. It would seem you had done your research before you came to see him.

When his door closes and it’s just the two of you, he sends you a nervous smile, “(Y/n)!” He spreads his arms for a hug, but your expression remains unimpressed.

“Taehyung.”

He puts his arms down when he realizes you aren’t going to greet him, “What are you doing here?”

“The real question is what are you doing here, Taehyung?” You ask.

“Uh…” He takes a moment, “Sight-seeing?”

You don't acknowledge his obvious lie, “Really? Then tell me why two strings have converged.”

“Uh...fate?” You give him a look, almost as if daring to even try and explain that one. His shoulders drop, “You’re not buying it.”

“No, I’m not.” You say, “What do you think you’re doing, Taehyung?”

“I’m trying out this wonderful women’s hanbok. They’re actually very comfortable, I don’t see why the men don’t wear them instead-” He attempts to turn and spin for you to show off the fabric that lays against his skin, but you interrupt him.

“Taehyung! I don’t care about the clothing!” You yell. You take a moment to calm yourself, moving forward and keeping your voice down for any listening ears, “I want to know what you think you’re doing messing around with Fate’s work! My work!”

“What I can!” He says, “Namjoon is just lonely and he wants the comfort of his soulmate.”

“Soulmates are not for you to mess with! Did you learn nothing when I raked Jimin across the coals?” You ask, reminding him of the selfish deity with only himself in mind, “I took responsibility over his humans for a reason!”

“I didn’t assign him a new one!” Taehyung explains, trying his best to defend himself and his decisions.

“But you’re messing with their timeline! It is not time for them to meet yet, and you-” You reach over to his dresser where the shining jewels rest hidden underneath it’s cloth. He hid them there from anyone that may enter his room, but none of their eyes see as much as yours. You pluck one from the pile and shove it in his face, “creating these demon jewels will only cause trouble!”

“You don’t know that!”

“I see it all!” You remind him. You put the jewel back where it belongs and resort to pressing your finger into his chest, “These humans are mine to deal with, Taehyung. I won’t stand for you interfering with my responsibility.”

Taehyung hangs his head. He doesn’t understand why you won’t just let him do this one thing. It’s only two humans, there’s no need for everyone to make such a fuss over it. When he brings Namjoon and his soulmate together, then they’ll all see just how important this necklace really is.

When you remove your finger from his chest, he looks up, “Why can’t they just be happy sooner?”

You know better than anyone what it’s like when others mess with fate. You remember how bad Jimin messed up like it was yesterday, and it’s made your job as a deity that much harder to deal with. The other’s just don’t understand what your job entails, and it seems there’s only one way they’ll all learn.

You meet Taehyung’s eyes, “You really want to know why?” You ask

“Yes.”

“Fine.” You put your hands up in surrender and take a step back, “I’ll let you play your little matchmaking game, but don’t come crying to me when you realize what you’ve done.” You walk all the way back to the door you had come through. Before you leave, you look to Taehyung one last time, “Do you understand?”

With all the power in him, Taehyung nods, “Trust me, I won’t.”

As you leave, Taehyung is unsure if he’s really making the right decision, but he has no time to second guess himself. The only thing he can do now is wait for the gems to finish and complete the necklace before Namjoon’s soulmate would become fully attracted to it.

---

“So, this is it?” Namjoon asks.

In his hands he holds the delicate pink jewels and silver stones strung together with gold. Taehyung had finished it that morning and waited all day for Namjoon to finish with his official business before he showed it to the King. The both of them have been so excited for this day, and now it was here.

“This is it.” Taehyung unwraps the cloth from around his creation and presents it to the king, “This necklace will attract your soulmate and bring them to you.”

“Wonderful.”Namjoon takes the necklace in his hands, holding the object as gingerly as he can. His eyes take in every last detail, and he seems very pleased with the god’s work.

“Can I ask you a question, Jihye?”

“Ask away.”

“Why are you helping me?” Namjoon meets his eye, but it doesn’t ease the god’s confusion, “You said Gods and Goddess’ very rarely help humans when they ask for it. So why help me?”

“I guess I felt a lot like you.” Taehyung admits. He’d felt so lonely and like his purpose was wasteful sitting up on his planet, wasting his days daydreaming in silence. “When you’re the deity of something as insignificant as the moon, you grow lonely. Being here to help you through this makes me feel important.”

Namjoon places a reassuring hand on Taehyung’s shoulder, “Moon Goddess or no Moon Goddess, you’re pretty important to me.” The king’s smile is bright and comforting. It’s one of his more refining qualities as a king, and it’s something he’s noticed throughout his time in the palace. “It may seem silly, but I’d like to believe we’ve become friends.”

“Friends?” Taehyung repeats. Namjoon nods and Taehyung smiles, “I like that. Friends are unbreakable.”

“Oh! Speaking of breakables, what if someone breaks the necklace before my soulmate finds me?” The King asks.

“Impossible. The only way this necklace will break is if you and your loved one agree to break the bond.” Taehyung assures him. He had made sure to include that back door in his planning process. He couldn’t let anyone tear his project apart, and that included one singular half of the pair, “You’re stuck with them for eternity.”

“Just like friends.” Namjoon says, casually throwing in the similarity with a fond smile, “It sounds amazing.”

“It will be.”

It should have been.

A few days after Taehyung had finished the necklace, Namjoon fell ill. At first, it seemed like a simple cold, but the King only seemed to grow weaker as days continued to pass. There were times where in the morning he’d be able to walk around the palace garden, and by the afternoon he was bed ridden until lunch the next day. Some days, nobody would see his majesty at all.

The King’s practitioner’s tried their best to keep him fed and hydrated, but no medicine they had was able to do the trick. They could only give him remedies to take away the pain until whatever it was passed or the King went with it peacefully.

Knowing that Namjoon - someone he had become so close to - was on the brink of meeting a friend of his, Taehyung couldn’t sit himself still. When no one was watching, he ran off to the far edge of the palace hunting grounds. He ran as fast as his legs would carry him until he reached the stream Namjoon had shown him.

“(Y/n)!” He yells, crying into the wind, “(Y/n), I know you can hear me!”

“What?” You told him not to come crying to you, yet here he was interrupting your duties. He acts as though you aren’t busy with problems of your own. Yet against your own judgement, you appear behind him with a fixed appearance.

“What’s happening to him? Why is Namjoon sick?” He asks, turning to you filled with fury and sadness. He takes notice of the clothing you changed into, “Why are you wearing men’s clothing?”

You look down to the blue and white hanbok you had seen some of the palace guards wearing and shrug, “Oh, so you can walk around in women’s clothing but I can’t appreciate the design of men’s?”

The god shakes his head, “Nevermind. Tell me what’s wrong with him.”

“He’s sick.”

“I know he’s sick. Why is he sick? Why is he so weak and losing his hair?!” He demands.

You cross your arms over your chest, “I told you what would happen if you mess with fate.”

“No. You only said not to come crying to you.”

“Yet here you are.” Taehyung’s face contorts from anger to hurt and you look away from him to the trees that surround you. You sigh, “Look, I see the future and hold it in my hands-” To prove your point you hold out your hands to show the miniature galaxy that forms between your palms, an infinite number of strings tied to your fingers, “-and when you go around playing with something you shouldn’t then it plays back.”

“Then fix it!”

“I don’t think you get it, Taehyung. I. Can’t. Fix. This!” You let your mini-galaxy dissolve away and advance towards the quivering man before you. Even with his lesson being thrown right in his face, he still doesn’t understand. You use both hands to cup his cheeks, holding him there so he’s forced to look at you, “You’ve doomed their fate, and now they pay the price.”

The hurt that swims in his golden irises bubbles over in hot tears, “This isn’t what I wanted.”

He had tried so hard to make everything perfect. All he wanted to do was help humans and be important like other deities. Just like Namjoon, he doesn’t want to be alone anymore. But what is he supposed to do now that Namjoon is sick beyond repair?

“I tried to warn you.”

In your opinion, a God like Taehyung needs to be monitored more carefully. He - and other planets such as dwarves - would never be able to understand the responsibility that comes with the universe. They’re much too close to humans, far too close to temptation. They’ll learn to feel what the humans feel, and then they’re doomed to be just as destructive. That’s what happened to Jimin, and it’s already influencing him.

“Now you must learn your lesson.” You pull away from the brunette, ready to leave him there and return to your duties.

“Isn’t there anything I can do?” Taehyung asks, stopping you before you can even think of moving. With all of your knowledge, Taehyung knows there has to be other options, other paths he can choose before Namjoon’s downfall is the only one left. You just had to tell him. “What are there- maybe 12 outcomes?!”

Of course, you do know what’s to come. Two outcomes were likely about to happen in the coming weeks, and you have to prepare for them both before the time arrives. Either way, both will destroy Taehyung to a point that you don’t know if he’ll return. You can only guide him to the better of the two.

“Destroy the necklace or don’t let them meet until after he’s dead. Those are your options.” You turn your back to Taehyung, unable to meet his eye any longer. However, Taehyung isn’t finished with you.

“What do you mean ‘those are my options’?! Where are you going?!” He cries, still heartbroken and confused over the ultimatum you had given him.

The last thing you want to do is hurt Taehyung, but sometimes the harsh truth is what someone needs the most, “To do my job. Maybe you should learn to do yours.”

Taehyung didn’t take your words lightly. He did his job, but not the one he was born to do.

No.

He worked even harder to help Namjoon find his soulmate. He refused to destroy his hard work, and he definitely wasn’t going to let Namjoon die before he got the chance to see his true love.

Namjoon, however, wasn’t as sure as Taehyung that he would get to that point.

“I know you’re-” Namjoon lets out a wet cough, “-you’re working hard, Jihye. But I don’t think I’ll get there.”

Taehyung shakes his head, cutting through another piece of hair at the top on the king’s head, “You will. I know you will.”

“How can you be so sure?” He asks sleepily.

“I just have this feeling.”

“And if your feeling is wrong?”

Taehyung has been pushing the possibility of failure as far away as he possibly can. He didn’t want to ever consider his plan a lost cause. If he did that, then that would mean Namjoon is a lost cause, and Namjoon is anything but that.

“Then I’ll wait everyday for your soulmate to come to you.” Taehyung assures him.

“That won’t do me any good if I’m dead.” Namjoon reminds him. Taehyung pushes the remark aside and instead focuses on combing through the king’s hair, “They’d be talking to a skeleton.”

Taehyung shakes his head, “I’m sure I could figure something out.”

“You know...I read that the Egyptians would-” He coughs, “-mummify their dead.”

The suggestion makes the god stop. He had never considered that other humans may have ways to preserve their dead, “Do you really think that will work?”

“I don’t think we have anything to lose.”

At Namjoon’s request, Taehyung ordered palace guards to search for someone who could perform the procedure. He ordered them to move fast and to not waste anytime. The sooner they could find a doctor knowledgeable in the art, the sooner he’d be able to decide if turning his friend into a mummy was the way to go.

The last thing Taehyung expected was for Namjoon’s soulmate to show up as the doctor performing his procedure.

He didn’t notice the connection right away. She was quiet and straight to the point, she didn’t leave any room for Taehyung to notice anything right away. But when he brought her to the infirmary to familiarize herself with the room, is when he noticed the string that seemed to hang off of her hand. She herself hadn’t even noticed the string pulling at her smallest finger. It was as if the string was a ghost and only Taehyung had an interest in it.

By the time it came for her to meet the King himself, Taehyung had already come up with a plan to get her to touch the necklace. He didn’t care if you had told him not to do it until after. In his mind, the sooner Namjoon and his soulmate could be together the better.

If only he could’ve had her touch the necklace a moment sooner. In between the guards rushing her out of the room and Namjoon’s shallow breathing, Taehyung could see you outside of the room watching it all unfold from the corridor. You look content, far too content for someone that just witnessed true love slip away from one another. Your contempt made him angry, but he had to ignore you for Namjoon’s sake.

Unfortunately, Taehyung had needed a miracle.

Later that same night, Namjoon said his last parting words: “Watch over them for me.”

Unbeknownst to the King, he had already met his soulmate. She was just down the hall and under heavy guard. Even after his body and possessions were placed before her to begin the process, the King’s necklace was kept under close watch by his guard. Taehyung had tried so hard to remind the guard that Namjoon had wanted his necklace by his side at all times, but none of them would listen to him.

Because of that, Namjoon’s soulmate - Choi Eunha - left to return home. Namjoon himself was sealed inside of a tomb beneath his palace, and Taehyung was left to mourn the loss of friend.

It was raining the day you were sent to retrieve him. The King’s tomb had just been sealed and many palace servants had already dispersed to return to their own lives. The only person left was Taehyung, resting in a deep bow he had brought all the way to the ground. His forehead rests against the stone of the tomb, and it takes everything you have not to rip the god away from it.

You come to stand beside him, stopping just in front of the tomb's sealed entrance in the palace garden, “I tried to warn you.”

Taehyung shakes his head, “They were so close…”

“It wasn’t going to end how you had hoped.”

Taehyung’s head snaps from his mournful position to you, “You don’t know that!” He cries.

His eyes are red and puffy, and the streaks from the tears he shed paint his cheeks. His lip quivers in both anger and sadness, and you can only look at him in pity, “Taehyung, we’ve been over this.”

Taehyung turns himself around so his back rests against the king’s door. He hangs his head, “Just go away and leave me be. Haven’t you done enough?”

You feel a twinge of guilt, but you push it aside. You weren’t here to be his friend, you’re here to do a job, “I can’t. I’m supposed to bring you to the council.”

“Can’t this wait?”

You sigh, “Humans have made you soft, Taehyung.” You place a hand on his shoulder, but he grabs your wrist and pulls it away from him.

“The humans haven’t made me anything!” He protests, “It’s normal to feel sad over the loss of a friend.” Mourning is all he’d done since he last spoke to the king. Since he last saw him smile, close his eyes, take a single breath, all Taehyung has done is mourn the loss of one of the best friends he’s known.

But of course you wouldn’t understand. To you, humans are expendable beings incapable of doing anything beneficial for the universe. You were just as heartless as you’ve always been, and that’s something even Taehyung couldn’t fix, “Maybe more people would like you if you showed a little compassion.”

It shouldn’t hit you as hard as it does, but his words hurt more than you ever thought they would. Not only that, but they’re completely unnecessary. Here you are treating him with more kindness than you should be giving him, and he’s insulting you in return.

You pull your hand away, “I don’t have to be nice to you, Taehyung. I’m already giving you the option to move of your own free will.”

“Oh, wow, the bare minimum.” Taehyung says sarcastically. He flashes you a fake smile and from a flower that lays next to him, he creates a small pile of coins, “Do you want an award.”

“You want to be an ass? Fine. I can be one too.” You grab Taehyung by the front of his clothes and pull up. Together, you travel from Earth to Star 13, the meeting place of the deities.

A large opaque building held strong by blue, iridescent columns. Inside where you stand, is a singular room with large marble chairs placed in a circle. Each chair but 2 are filled, a very rare occurrence for a normal meeting. At the designated ‘front’ of the circle are the 6 chairs of the high ranking deities. Universe at the center, Life and Death on each shoulder, an empty chair and Cosmos beside them, and Galaxy and Sun on the remaining sides. These 6 make up the Higher Authority within the council.

You let go of Taehyung and allow him to fall to the floor on his own, the god only catching himself on his elbows. You cross your arms and nod to the council in front of you, “Council members (Y/n) and Moon God Taehyung.”

The members of the council nod their heads in acknowledgment, but only 1 speaks, “Welcome, we’ve been waiting for the two of you.” Universe - Hui - greets. His smile radiates calm, but his aura radiates anything but. He gestures to the empty chair next to Life, “(Y/n) please take your seat. Moon, please take the center of the circle.”

Taehyung nods and stands from his position on the floor, watching with distaste as you walk away from him to your own chair. He dusts himself off and tries to present himself better than his initial entrance, “Moon God Taehyung, reporting for council.”

“Council Member Juhyun.”

Juhyun - Deity of the galaxy stands from his chair, “We the council have been forced to acknowledge the destructive actions brought upon mere humans by Moon God Taehyung. It has come to our attention that you have not only abandoned your position for weeks, but you have tampered with soulmate strings of Fate. Is this information true?”

“Yes.”

Juhyun nods, “Would the council member please explain his reasoning for tampering with Fate’s strings?”

“Do I need any more reason besides love?” Taehyung asks, his brows furrowed in confusion. If there was one thing life on Earth had taught him, it was that love was the most powerful force. Love could make a tough man weak and weak man strong.

Bora - Goddess of the cosmos - scoffs, “Deities do not partake in love.”

“The council will need a better reason.” Juhyun says.

Taehyung looks to the council with a blank stare. In his mind, he tries to fathom how those with so much power can’t possibly see the benefits of love. He doesn’t understand how they can hear about 2 people in love who are connected by Fate and see an issue of pulling them together. Even Fate herself can’t see it!

Hoseok - Death himself tilts his head in confusion, “Nothing?”

“Maybe his own selfish desires…” Yoongi mumbles to himself, the bitterness of Life seeping through.

“If the council member Moon has no explanation then we will move forward.” Hui announces, silencing the background conversations. He turns to you, “(Y/n), any suggestions for punishment?”

You turn your attention to Hui and back to Taehyung. Discipline has been at the forefront of your mind since you first saw Taehyung’s own string of Fate cross and pull against those of humans. The anger you feel from him now is the anger you’ve felt for the past weeks that he’s been messing around. In your opinion, he has no right to be so upset with you for doing your job, but his opinion of you having no compassion is entirely inaccurate.

“I think council member Moon has had enough punishment.” You say, taking everyone by surprise. The last time someone messed with Fate’s strings, you were all but popping a blood vessel. Hoseok and Yoongi were both so worried, they thought they might have to assign a new deity.

Juhyun sits in his chair and leans over to speak with you, “Are you sure?” He asks

“Yeah, are you okay?” Yoongi adds in.

You nod, “I would like to suggest restricted access to humans and the destruction of the imposing necklace.” You turn to Hui, ignoring the hard glare being sent your way from the offending god, “I don’t want this to happen again, but from what I’ve seen, I believe he understands what he’s done was wrong.”

“Is there anyone within the council that disagrees?” Hui addresses the council, but no one argues. Whether it’s from shock that you weren’t harder on the Moon God or the fact that no one wanted to be there for very long, who knows. “Juhyun.”

Juhyun stands, “Based on the testimony of council member (Y/n) - Fate herself - he should not receive major punishment. He will, however, be sent back to Earth to destroy the necklace before it does any more damage. He will also no longer be allowed to roam Earth as he pleases, and Council Member Earth will inform the council if this punishment is not fulfilled. Is there any reason this punishment should not take place?”

No one argues and Hui continues, “Would Council Member Moon like to add anything before we make the final judgement?”

“Council Member Moon!” Taeyang shouts.

“No.”

“The Galactic Council has spoken. Meeting adjourned.”

The other members of council are quick to disappear, but Taehyung lingers. He’s never felt so numb, and he doesn’t understand why he feels this way. He suspects this is what loss feels like. Instead of a lonely sadness, it feels like a piece of himself has been ripped away and there’s nothing he can do to get it back except wait.

When he’s escorted to Earth to grab the necklace and destroy it, he can’t stop himself from hesitating. In front of him is the last piece of Namjoon he has left. If he destroys it, then the likelihood of him ever seeing Namjoon would fall away completely.

And then there’s Namjoon’s last words: “Watch over them for me.”

What kind of friend would he be to go back on his word? If friendships were for eternity, then how could he ever bring himself to stab his friend in the back even in the afterlife? The answer? He wouldn’t.

He couldn’t.

He makes his decision as soon as Jimin calls out to check on him, “Taehyung, did you find it?”

“Yeah!” Instead of destroying the necklace he created, he pockets it. He takes another piece of jewelry from the altar and crushes it beneath his feet, breaking it just as they’d want him to break the necklace. That is what he hands to his friend on his way out, ignoring the sad smile he offers.

He didn’t need it.

He has the necklace.

As long as he keeps the necklace with him, then he’ll find Eunha again. He’ll find her and he’ll bring her and Namjoon together no matter what. Even if it takes centuries, he’ll wait as long as it takes to keep his promise to Namjoon.

Taehyung spent hundreds of years sitting alone on his space rock, holding close to him the only piece he had left of a friend and a responsibility he couldn’t fulfill. Every moment he spent alone he went over every detail that went wrong in his head. He tore himself apart over things that could have gone better and what he could’ve done differently. But in every single scenario, he refused to give up on Namjoon.

You had tried to come and see him every decade or so, just to make sure that he himself was doing okay, but Taehyung would always sneak away to the dark side of his planet. It seemed like your presence was more damaging to him than the silence. You knew he’d be upset, but you never expected it to be so severe. A part of you didn’t want him to be alone, even if it had been awhile since the incident. But there was nothing you could do if he didn’t want to see you.

It wasn’t like Taehyung wasn’t used to solitude. Even before his restrictions he was always lonely more often than not. For him, he’s just gone back to his normal life. He even went back to listening to the humans again.

It took him quite a few decades to even get used to hearing humans again, and then a few more to listen to what they were saying. Not many asked for him, though there were a handful more than he had ever received before. It made him feel better, and those few calls to him over Jimin really kept him a float during his wait.

And then he heard it.

It was quiet at first, but Taehyung was able to make out the sloppy conversation of a child.

“...4, 5, 6, 7…” There’s a slight pause to the voice, “What comes after 7?”

Taehyung stifles a laugh. He’s never had a child talk to him before. The last children he’d been able to talk to were the children at Namjoon’s palace, and they went to him in hopes that he would play.

“You have a lot of stars by you. Momma says the stars are angels. Momma also says you have a Goddess and a man living there. Is that true?” The little girl asks.

It would seem Namjoon’s influence wore off on everyone else. He’d forever be known as the Moon Goddess Taehyung and not the Moon God. And now there was a man on his planet as well? Probably a human tale or something along those lines.

“You’re quiet...” The girl says, coming to the conclusion herself, “Do you ever talk?”

He shouldn’t do it.

He shouldn’t give into the temptation again, but he doesn’t want to leave someone so cute waiting for him to answer.

With the confidence that he can stay hidden long enough, Taehyung appears for her. With a more practiced accuracy than with Namjoon’s, he lands in the little girls room on her bed, “Did you want me to talk?”

The small child turns fast away from her window, her pigtails swinging behind her, “Are you the man on the moon? Your clothes are old.”

“Do you like them?” He asks, looking down at the clothes he had modeled after the ones he had worn on Earth during his previous visit, “What’s your name?”

“Choi Eunha! I’m 5!” The little girl states proudly.

The sound of her name stops Taehyung in his tracks. On instinct, he grabs the necklace in his pocket and pulls it out to see the glowing gems. Unknowingly, he had found her again. He didn’t even have to try. As if by the will of Fate, she found him.

Taehyung puts his necklace away, “Really? 5?! You’re a big girl, aren’t you?” She nods happily and Taehyung smiles, “I think you and I are going to be best friends, Eunha.”

From the ages of 5 to 8, Taehyung spent his time as Eunha’s imaginary friend. He’d follow her to and from elementary school, he’d help her get snacks and teach her about the stars. When she grew away from imaginary friends, he settled for watching her from afar. In a way, he became her guardian, and he made sure she had everything she needed to remain happy and healthy.

When it came time for her to start high school, Taehyung realized that watching from the wings wouldn’t get anywhere. If he wanted to make sure Eunha and Namjoon would come to meet, he’d have to interfere. But this time, he won’t do it alone.

“So, what are we doing again?” Jeongguk asks.

The young dwarf planet’s god and Taehyung were both dressed up in more modern, human fashion, walking down a busy street packed with humans wearing little-to-no clothing. Taehyung had already explained to him before they left what they were doing, but Jeongguk just wasn’t picking up on it.

Something he should’ve considered before recruiting him, but it was far too late to send him back.

“We’re meeting Jimin, remember?” Taehyung asks.

That seems to jog his memory, “Oh yeah. Do you really think we’ll find him with all of these people?”

Taehyung nods, “I’m sure of it.”

Both men glide past the bouncer, using a bit of magic to slide through. In a setting like this, no one will notice the two of them appearing out of thin air. The only thing they had to worry about was pushing their way to Jimin.

“Jimin?” Jeongguk grabs someone passing by, turning them to see that they’re not Jimin at all. He pulls his hand back, “Sorry...Jimin?!” He yells again, finding another look-a-like.

Taehyung stops him before he goes chasing after every human he sees, “Jeongguk! Not everyone is going to be Jimin.”

“Well, how else do you expect to find him?”

Loud shrieks from various women burst from the crowd somewhere in front of them and Taehyung shakes his head, “Just follow the screaming.”

The younger god follows after Taehyung in confusion, allowing the eldest to lead him through the crowd. The two come to a stop on the sidelines of what looks like a small dance circle, a pink haired man clad in leather pressed up against a woman. His cheek is pressed against hers and his hands rest lightly on her waist.

“I don’t see Jimin.” The blue haired man scans the crowd around them, but he doesn’t see anything but women circling them. Taehyung sighs and grabs Jeongguk’s chin, guiding him back to the man in the middle. “Oh…”

The bubblegum pink dancer throws his head back with a smile and turns to look over the crowd. His eyes don’t take long to land on the two gods at the edge of the circle, and Jimin’s smile turns into a smirk.

When Jimin leaves his partner and walks towards them, Taehyung thinks he’s come to greet him so they can talk privately. What he doesn’t expect is for his friend to grab him by the waistline of his pants and pull him into the center of the crowd. The screams of the women around them nearly burst his eardrums - something he never thought possible. He looks back to check on Jeongguk, but the poor man is already surrounded and frozen in fear.

“You know-” Jimin pulls Taehyung’s hips against his, bringing the two of them closer. He leans in with a salacious smile, “-I knew you couldn’t stay away.”

Taehyung remains unfazed by Jimin’s actions, “That’s kinda my job. I’m supposed to stay by you.”

Jimin pats Taehyung’s cheek, “We both know exactly what I’m talking about.” He turns his back to the purple haired man and presses himself into him, throwing his head back, “So, what did you do with it?”

“The necklace?”

“No, your girl parts.” Jimin pats his thigh, “Of course I’m talking about the necklace.”

Tae leans down to Jimin’s ear, “Not until we finish talking, I’ll just let you know that I have it with me.”

“What? You think I’m going to run to the council?” The pink haired man intertwined his fingers with Taehyung’s, raising them in the air and sways his hips against him, “If I was going to do that, I would’ve told them the minute you decided not to destroy the necklace.”

Taehyung spins Jimin around to face him, their arms crossing over each other, “You knew this whole time?”

“Honey, I wrote the book.” Jimin pulls his hands from Taehyung’s grasp and gently places one on his hip, trailing the other up the man’s chest until it rests at the base of his throat, “I knew you got too close when we got to the tomb, but I wasn’t about to confront you.”

“Will you help me then?” Taehyung asks, completely unfazed.

Jimin lets his hand linger for a few moments longer before he pulls away with a sigh, “I love being raked across the coals by a strong woman just like any other man, but to cross (Y/n) is to dance with the devil.”

“Devil?”

“A human thing.”

Jimin turns himself back around to continue his dancing, circling his hips as he lowers himself to the floor in front of Taehyung. He watches him move down and up, but his focus isn’t on his body, “I just need you to keep an eye on Eunha.”

He stops in front of him and turns with a mischievous smile, “What does this entail~?”

“Becoming her friend and nothing but her friend.”

“You know every friend has done it once.” Jimin says with a wink.

“We haven’t.”

“We can change that.”

Taehyung places a hand on his friend’s arm, “Are you going to help or not?”

“Yeah, sure. What more could the council do to me?” The pink haired man shrugs. He seems to let his decision settle before his content smile turns into a wide grin, “Just one thing though.”

“What?”

Before he can do anything, Jimin grabs Taehyung by his collar and pulls him down for a sloppy kiss. He takes both Taehyung and the crowd by surprise. What he says when he pulls away only makes it worse, “I take card too.”

“We’ll talk later.”

With a blank expression, Taehyung turns around to leave. He spots Jeongguk right where he had left him, swarmed by women dancing up against him. His hands rest flat on his chest and his eyes are somehow even wider than they had been when he’d been pulled away.

Taehyung pushes his way through the women and grabs one of the younger god’s hands to pull him away, “C’mon Jeongguk.” The blue haired man silently follows after him, his movements stiff. The once hyper young man is now dragging his feet behind him.

Taehyung stops them by the bar, “Jeongguk? You okay?” He asks.

His wide doe-like eyes meet Taehyung’s, “I have seen the ways of God...”

“Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me!”

It’s late into the next afternoon before the two of them join Jimin in his apartment. Per the man’s request, they both waited long enough for any “guests” to leave before showing up. However, the woman that waves at them on their way out indicates that they didn’t wait long enough.

Jimin greets them at the door wearing a white robe and a chute of wine in his hand, “You’re early.”

Taehyung shakes his head and slides past him, “It’s 5 o’clock in the afternoon.”

“Really?” Jimin lets Jeongguk pass him before closing his door. The two visiting stop to take off their shoes as Jimin slips past them and takes a swig, “I think I’m losing my game...”

“Game?” Jeongguk asks, one hand against the wall to hold him up as he takes off his shoes,

Jimin raises his glass to the air, “My game!”

“What kind of game are you play-ING!” Jeongguk slips, falling forward to his knees on the wood flooring of Jimin’s apartment.

“Can we just talk about the plan?” Taehyung begs.

Jimin sighs, “Look, I don’t know about the two of you, but I already have a secret identity. I’m not really looking to change that.” He walks to his kitchen and pulls out a bottle of wine to refill his empty glass.

Before he can pour himself a new glass, Taehyung grabs the bottle out of his hand, “You can’t live this lifestyle forever. You have to change it again at some point.”

“But now? Taehyung, do you know how great my life is right now?” Jimin gestures to the apartment around them, pointing out the view, the gorgeous furniture, and the great layout. It was a homeowners dream to have what Jimin has now, and Taehyung can see why he’d be reluctant to change it up and relocate.

Taehyung sighs, “I’m sure all the women you sleep with-”

“-And men!” Jeongguk adds firmly, standing next to the Moon God.

Taehyung looks at him and then Jimin, but the Earth God just shrugs and smirks, “...and men you sleep with are great and all, but you said it yourself. You’re losing your game.”

The neighboring planets stare at each other for a while until Jimin reluctantly agrees, “Fine.” He puts his hand out and motions towards his wine bottle, “Give me my wine.”

Taehyung hands it over and leans against the counter, “The question is, how do we create new identities?”

Jimin pours a steady stream into his glass, “You both literally can create whatever you want.”

“To an extent.”

“I’ll make and get you what you need.” He passes his filled chute to Jeongguk and takes a swig straight from the bottle, “The real question is how do we get close to Eunbi?”

“Eunha.”

“Whatever. How do we keep an eye on her?”

“In three years she’ll be going to college for Astronomy in Seoul. Now, she really enjoyed the museum downtown when she was little-” Jeongguk passes his empty chute to Jimin and he refills the glass for him, “Her parents brought her there every summer and with the observatory they have there, I think she’ll try and get a job there.”

“Are you sure?” Jimin asks, unimpressed with the current plan.

Jeongguk slides his empty glass to the middle of the counter again, “Yeah. How do you know she’ll even move to the city?”

“I know her.” Taehyung assures them with a proud smile, “Her dream school is up here, and she’ll need a job she can enjoy to go with it.”

Jimin takes another large swig of his wine before he chuckles, “We’re going to get in a lot of trouble if we get caught.”

“Like you said, what else could the council possibly do?”

“Make fun of us?” Jeongguks adds, his words slightly slurred from the 3 - more like 4 - glasses of wine.

The two look at each other and take a mirrored breath. This was going to be a long 3 years.

---

Jimin goes to great lengths to assimilate both unknowing gods to modern life on his planet. With the limited amount of time they have before Eunha graduates and goes to college, they spend most of their days reading up on the past 1000 years. Jimin makes suggestions on what they should read and things that are more important than others. However, his favorite topic to learn and teach about can’t be found in any book.

Social interactions are what Jimin enjoys the most. More than anything, Jimin wants to be out on the town and meeting new people. He wants to take in every human he meets and learn as much as he can about them in such a short amount of time. Their needs, wants, and thoughts are all so different and trivial, yet he can’t help himself by wanting to learn more. Jimin is more than happy to show his ways to his friends.

Taehyung is not as excited.

“Why are we here?” Taehyung asks, adjusting the unusually tight striped pants Jimin had forced him into. He’s thankful his friend was kind enough to give him a loose shirt and jacket, but he could really do without the fabric clinging to his skin.

“You’re going to learn how to interact with humans. Starting with not fixing yourself in public!” The pink haired casanova smacks Taehyung’s hand, not caring what he hits alongside it. Taehyung retracts back and Jimin sighs, “How did you ever manage to convince people you were a woman?”

“Because I already know how to interact with humans.”

“Not these humans.” The Earth deity slips his fingers under his suspenders, smoothing them out over his white button-down. He sticks his hands in the pockets of his red pants, “Humans have changed a lot since the last time you’ve been here, Taehyung. You may think you know about them, but you have no clue.”

“So why is Jeongguk here?” Taehyung points in the direction of the young deity behind them, still staring at the X’s on the back of his hand under the long sleeves of his red and black cardigan. A group of women pass in front of him, and both men watch as the young man’s eyes widen and he steps back.

Jimin slaps a hand against Taehyung’s back, “If you want Jeongguk to actually be able to help, then he needs to learn not to freeze every time a woman gets within 5 feet from him.”

“Okay, I’ll give you that one,” Taehyung admits in defeat, “I just don’t see why you can’t tell us how.”

“Saying and doing are two very different things my friend.”

“Oh, I couldn’t agree more.” The two men turn around, knowing the sound of your voice all too well. Their eyes widen when they notice the outfit you chose. Tight fitted jeans with a dark green tank top tucked in and a black leather jacket, high heeled boots with a chunky heel, and short red hair in soft curls. Your outfit is much different from what you’re usually wearing, and your hair isn’t what they’d imagine you’d ever choose.

It didn’t take you long to find them, especially after Taehyung and Jeongguk’s first outing to meet up with Jimin. You had the smallest inkling of hope that Jimin would convince Taehyung his plan was pointless and not worth his time, but Jimin has never been anything but a brat when it comes to human lives and their emotions.

“Taehyung-“

“Nothing for me?” Jimin asks, sliding an arm over Taehyung’s shoulder, mirroring your current position with their third member.

You ignore the way he smiles at you, “Hi Jimin.”

“Hi, (Y/n)~” Jeongguk parrots.

You squeeze the bluenette’s shoulder and smile through your irritation, “Hello, Jeongguk…”

Taehyung smiles awkwardly, “What are you doing here?”

“Are you really going to try this again? Did you learn nothing in the centuries you’ve had to think?” You ask.

“No?”

“Oh my word…” Your eyes shut tight in disdain. The amount of ridiculousness that you’ve already let the god get away with is almost too much for you to count on one hand, and he doesn’t make it any easier by not trying, “I’m serious about this Taehyung! Do you not remember last time?” Both Jimin and Jeongguk take this as their cue to back out, leaving only you and Taehyung.

“I do! But this time will be different.”

“How so?”

“It just will be! I know it!” His determination is unlike any other, and it’s almost admirable. But his determination isn’t enough to deal with the game he’s playing.

“Taehyung, I’ve seen every outcome. Please, don’t do this again! Not to them and especially not to yourself.” His smile drops and it brings you back to the last time you had seen him, lazing around the dark side of his planet. You knew he was hurting then and he wouldn’t accept your condolence, now you just want to help him before he makes the wrong choices. “Just give me the necklace and we can get this over with.”

He shakes his head, “You can’t destroy it.”

“What do you mean I can’t destroy it?”

“It can only be broken by them.” He explains, “Look, I’ve thought long and hard about this, okay? But now I have Jimin and Jeongguk to help me out!” He points to the two men on the dance floor where Jimin tries to teach Jeongguk how to roll his body, but the younger resembles a fish flopping in the water.

“They’re your backup plan?”

Taehyung chooses to ignore your distaste, “Look, I’m going to do this whether you tell me to leave them alone or not! Now, are you going to yell at me or are you going to help me?”

“I’m not going to help you, Taehyung.” Your intention was never to help Taehyung bring his experiment together - he’s crazy for even asking, “You can play your game with these humans, but now you’re messing with Life and Death.”

Taehyung’s shoulders tense at the mention of the all powerful beings, “What do you mean Life and Death?”

“Look, I came down here to warn you.” You know the game he’s playing, and the millions of outcomes he has to choose from don’t do anything to ease your worry. All you can do is let him make his decision and hope that your warnings are enough to persuade him, “Yoongi heard about what’s going on.”

“What?”

“The whole council knows you’re down here and they - just like I am - are very pissed.”

Without thinking, Taehyung pulls you close and uses your body as a shield from the surrounding crowd. His nose rests just above your collarbone as he scans the crowd, “Yoongi’s not coming here, is he?”

“If you don’t destroy the necklace and return to your duties then he’s going to come down here and he’s going to bring Hoseok with him.” You explain, still trapped in his awkward embrace.

“Hoseok?!”

“Yes, Hoseok!” You push the god off of you and straighten out your jacket, “You guys need to give up on this let it be.”

He shakes his head, “I can’t do that.”

“Taehyung-”

“No!” He yells, catching the attention of a few people around you, “Why can’t they be happy together?! What is so wrong with that? Huh?! Why are you so adamant on keeping them apart?!”

You glance at the humans that watch you and Taehyung with caution, “There are aspects of my job that are much more complicated than you are ever going to understand, Taehyung. I’m sorry that things can’t work the way you want them to, but it is my job to see that everything within our home runs as it should.”

“Well, I can’t deal with that.” He’s come too far to just give up on everything. With Jimin and Jeongguk in his corner he could get this to work, but he won’t give in so easily, “I’m not giving up on them.”

“Then you’ll watch them fall.”

---

After their run-in with Fate a few years back, Taehyung, Jimin, and Jeongguk did their best to lay low. It wasn’t necessarily because they’re afraid of you - though there is some truth to that - but to be on Life and Death’s radar is to lay yourself out for a tiger.

Of the Deities, there are 4 over-ruling monarchs of the universe - including the God of the universe himself. Just below him are the Pillars of Balance: Life, Death, and Fate. Like face cards in a deck, the 3 work together to keep the Universe in balance.

Life: The White Knight of light. Seen among humans as a beacon of hope and balance. His creations are a work of necessity more than want.

Death: The Black Knight of destruction. What Life gives, he takes. When there is too much, he creates little. The other half.

Fate: The All-Knowing. She sees all and is the ultimate peacekeeper between the deities. Nothing gets past her. With far more secrets than should be held on one person, she is the Knight of Secrets and Serenity.

With the threat of not just one, but all three coming after them, the need to continue on a low profile is more than necessary. They’re only saving grace is your inability to see their fate.

Your All-Knowing power only coincides with living beings and the health of the universe itself, it does not extend to the deities that stem from the Universe. The only way you could know what they’re up to is if they interact with living beings. Of course, this meant no plants, no friends, and no pets, but they only have to push through until Eunha is old enough.

It was a long shot even hoping she’d get into her dream college and move to the city, but she did it just like Taehyung thought she would. She’s always been smart and determined, so it wasn’t much of a surprise to him at all - not the way it was to Jimin. Their next portion of the plan was securing a position at the museum.

“Do you have your resume?” Jimin asks.

“The paper thing?”

“Yes, the paper thing!” Jimin elbows Taehyung, “It’s the only way we’re getting through this thing without a hitch!”

Taehyung pushes him back and rubs his side, “It’s right here, calm down.” He pulls out the folder with his resume, “I’m sure if I didn’t have it I’d be able to talk my way through it anyway.”

Both men make it to the bottom of the museum steps and start their ascent to the main doors. Both bicker and remind each other of their new identities and plans. Jimin is an aspiring dance major looking for an easy job at a museum gift shop, and Taehyung has a bachelor’s in history and is looking to take the position of a museum curator. All they had to do was use a little bit of their charm to get the jobs and they would be fine.

They go through the museum doors and stop to take a look around. To their right is a window to buy tickets with a few kiosks for self service. Ahead of them is a circular desk with a few employees and a busy staircase behind it. The big room slims down to two hallways on each side and what looks to be a third and fourth behind the staircase.

Jimin nods as he takes it all in, “This place is pretty big.”

“It’s gorgeous.” Taehyung sighs, enjoying the familiarity the building offers.

“Okay, so they said our interviews would be in the office past the cafeteria, so-” Jimin takes a moment to look at the signs before he points down the left hall, “-that way?”

Taehyung shrugs, “Looks right to me.”

Both men start towards the cafeteria when they notice an employee walking backwards towards them. Taehyung rushes both him and Jimin forward, narrowly missing the man before he turns around with his coffee in hand, “I am so sorry, sir! I didn’t see you behind me.”

“Not a problem at all.” Taehyung assures him before they continue on their way.

They find their way to the interview spot and check in with the employee running it. Both men feel absolutely confident that they’ll impress whoever is hiring. Even as other candidates enter and leave the room looking very confident, they’re 100% that no matter how many people interview they’ll still get the job.

The man running the interviews steps out of the office again, “Park Jimin, the director will see you now.”

“Wish me luck!” Jimin hops up from his chair and adjusts his clothes before he walks into the interview room. He’s only in there for a total of 15 minutes before he walks back out. His expression reads calm, but Taehyung can feel the nervous energy radiating off of him. When he sits down next to Taehyung again, he taps his fingers against the arm of his chair. Without any explanation, he says, “Try not to cry.”

“Why would I cry?”

“Kim Taehyung. The Museum Director will see you now.” Jimin shrugs and sits back in his seat, not answering Taehyung’s question.

Despite the nerves that now want to hold him back, the blue haired god walks into his interview. He may have been expecting you to be behind the desk, but he definitely wasn’t expecting Mr. Life himself.

“Yoongi...” The honey blonde of his hair is much different from the natural dark locks he’s used to seeing from him, and the suit he wears isn’t anything close to the soft silk robes the grumpy deity usually wears.

“Sit down, Taehyung.” Taehyung wearily takes the seat across from him, eyeing the higher deity as the blonde stares at him, “Do you have your resume?”

“Right here.” Taehyung placed his folder on the desk and awkwardly slid it across the desk.

Yoongi picks up the folder and opens it in front of his face. Taehyung can’t see him, but he can hear the sigh, “I see a lack of coffee stains, I’m disappointed.”

“Coffee stains?” Taehyung asks.

He stands a little to try and peek above the folder, but he pops back down in his seat as soon as Yoongi sets the folder back down, “If you would have spilled the human’s coffee over yourself then I was supposed to turn you away, but I cannot.” Yoongi closes the folder and stamps it with an ‘approved’ stamp before doing the same to another folder that matches his. He pushes them both off to the side before he turns back to the man still terrified before him, “I can - however - ask you what the hell you think you’re doing?”

“Um...participating in the society humans have created for themselves?” The god tries to give his most award winning smile, but Yoongi’s blank stare is showing no sign of remorse, “Yeah, I didn’t think you’d buy that either.”

Yoongi tongues the side of his cheek, obviously holding back his anger. He leans forward and places his arms on the desk with his fingers intertwined, “I don’t think I have to tell you that I don’t approve of what you’re planning to do, right?”

“No.”

“Good, because I don’t want to talk to a dead horse.”

“A dead horse…?”

“Don’t worry about it. My point is I don’t want to go over this with you again.” The blonde deity stands from his chair and walks over to the side of his room where a window sits, “I already hear enough complaining from Fate, I don’t want to deal with your antics myself.”

Taehyung tilts his head in confusion, “Then why hire me?”

“It’s not up to me. It’s up to Fate.” Taehyung practically rolls his eyes when Yoongi says this, but the deity doesn’t pay him any mind. “You start Monday. You’ll meet with the Owner of the Museum and they will talk to you about the exhibits you’ll be in charge of.” Taehyung stands up but Yoongi flashes in front of him, “Do not bother me. Do not mess up my museum. Do I make myself clear?”

“Didn’t you just say-”

“Do I make myself clear?” Yoongi repeats.

Taehyung nods, “Yes sir.”

“Go on.” Yoongi waves him away and returns to his desk, not paying any mind to the god as he leaves.

As soon as Taehyung steps out of the interview, Jimin is in front of him looking for answers, “Did he hire you?”

“Yup.”

“Well, I guess we both got the job.” The orange haired man throws his arm over his friend’s shoulder and leads him away from the office, but Taehyung can only stare ahead blankly as they walk.

“This was not a part of the plan.”

“No, but we did accomplish part of the plan. Now we just have to complete the rest of it.” Jimin takes notice of Taehyung’s unusually grim face and stops walking, “What’s that face for?”

Taehyung furrows his brow in confusion, “What face?”

“That face!” Jimin argues. He cups Taehyung's face, “Don’t tell me you’re backing out.”

“I’m not.”

“You look like you are!” Jimin pats the sides of his face rapidly, “We’ve come too far for you to back out now.”

The blue haired man pushes Jimin away, “I won’t back out! I’m just worried.” His whole plan was centered around sneaking around and not getting caught. But with one of the Pillars of Balance on Earth keeping track of him, it’s only a matter of time before the other two join him. “Yoongi is here. On Earth. If he’s here then he brought Hoseok with him.”

“So they’re meddling too? Big deal. We can handle them.” Taehyung gives Jimin a look and he shrugs, “Okay, so we can work around them. The point is we have this.”

They did not have this.

Unlike the elder deities, Jeongguk wouldn’t be a part of the plan until much later. For now, he’d exist as a high schooler until Eunha secures a job at the museum. This left most of the plan up to Jimin and Taehyung to prepare for her arrival.

The plan was honestly very simple:

Get a job at the museum

Have Namjoon’s tomb opened

Bring Namjoon to the museum

Have Eunha touch the necklace

Namjoon comes back to life

They fall in love

The end

It’s a win-win situation for everyone.

However, Taehyung didn’t expect the worst bump in the road.

His first day meeting with the Museum owner, Taehyung had his whole speech planned. He would convince him that King Kim Namjoon was worth the money. He was going to express how significant his story is and how beneficial it will be to his museum. A story of love and compassion would warm the hearts of everyone from around the world, and they could have that in this very museum.

But beyond the door at the large desk mulling over papers was no old man wearing a cheesy tie. It was you, wearing a nice button down and a skirt. A blazer rests on the back of your chair and the papers on your desk make it look like a tornado had gone through. Of all the things that could have gone wrong, this was the biggest hole in his plan.

“Oh, you’re here. Good. I’ve been waiting for you. Please, have a seat.” You flash him a smile and point to the chair in front of you. Taehyung is very hesitant, but he takes the seat across from you anyway as you dig through a stack of folders to your right. You pull out three folders and set them on the desk between the two of you, “Alright, now, we have a few exhibit’s open for you to take over from the last curator that worked here. You can change it however you like, but I will need prior notice before I can take a look at our budget.”

You turn back to your computer to take a look at the current funds available, but Taehyung isn’t ready to move forward yet, “What is happening here?”

“What do you mean?” You ask. Of course you know what he’s talking about, but you’ve given up on entertaining Taehyung this time around.

“Why aren’t you yelling at me?” He asks.

You gesture to the computer in front of you, “Because I have a job to do?”

“Okay, but what about your real job?”

“Taehyung, I am perfectly capable of doing my day job and this job.” You hold out your palms for him to see the cosmos laid out on your palms with the strings that hang off of your fingers.

Taehyung nods and you put them away to return to your ‘day job’, “And...you’re okay with this?”

You sigh, “At this point, I can only wait for the strings to fall into place. My biggest concern is keeping you from doing something you shouldn’t be.” You click the print icon at the top of your screen and turn around to your printer to collect the forms, “I also need to make sure Jimin is behaving. He still hasn’t been forgiven by the council.”

Taehyung nods in understanding, “So, you’re just going to leave me be as long as I don’t do anything dangerous?”

“That is the plan.”

“So, if I were to want Namjoon to be brought here as an exhibit?”

“I would put in your request.” You turn back around to the god in front of you and slide the New Exhibit forms he’d be needing, “My job is Fate, Taehyung, but I have no control over how the strings align. My job is to watch them converge and keep them from being tampered with. My main concern is containing the balance of the universe.”

“So you will?”

“If that’s what you would like to do then I’ll need a formal request.” You pick up the folders on your desk and hand them over, “Look over your other exhibits as well.”

You turn back to your computer and Taehyung watches you. He sits there for a minute before he speaks up, “Is this it…?”

“That’s it.” You nod. Taehyung stands up to leave and you chime in again, “I have a meeting with the head of security, you can just leave the door open.”

“Sure thing.” Taehyung opens the door and walks out, leaving the door open just as you had asked. The whole situation felt weird for him, and part of him thinks you’re definitely lying to him.

Taehyung doesn’t even notice he’s stopped in the middle of the walkway until someone is trying to move around him, “Excuse me.”

Taehyung immediately looks up at the familiar voice, “Hoseok?” The brunette is wearing more modern, human clothes just like the other two. His hair is swept back and he has a large binder tucked under one arm with a coffee in his hand, “Hi.”

The higher deity waves as much as he can with full hands, “Hey, sorry, I’d love to chat but I have a meeting.”

Taehyung nods, but does a double take as soon as it hits him, “Wait, are you the head of security?”

“Yeah, is that a problem?” The brunettes smile is teasing, but there’s just a small lilt in the tone that has the hairs on the back of Taehyung’s neck standing up.

“No! Not at all.” He bows to the higher deity and waves, “Good to see you…”

It’s later at Jimin’s apartment with a can of beer in his hand that taehyung let’s his walls break, “We are so fucked.”

“We’re not fucked.” Jimin assures him, drinking from his own can.

“We are!”

“Question!” The two turn to Jeongguk who sits on the floor holding a pillow to his chest, “What does fuck mean?” Neither of the two make any move to answer him, and Jeongguk pulls the pillow closer to him, “Nevermind...”

Taehyung leans forward in his seat and rests his head in his hands, “Our plan keeps changing.”

“For the better!” Jimin throws an arm over Taehyung’s shoulder and pats his arm,“You have to trust the process, Taehyung.”

“The process didn’t include Yoongi, Hoseok, and (Y/n)!”

“It has always included them.” Jimin cups Taehyung’s cheek and turns his face so that he’s looking at him, “I know you’re not keen on the other deities, Taehyung, I get it. But don’t be naive. We can use this to our advantage.”

He was right, of course. After eons of council meetings and watching the 3 Pillars deal with Earth on their own, both Taehyung and Jimin have picked up on certain habits that each one is more comfortable with. Fate is easier to avoid - not in a way where she won’t come after them, but as long as they stay out of trouble then you’ll leave them be. Yoongi doesn’t involve any coaxing at all. He’ll definitely keep an eye on them, but he’s more of a silent watcher. Their biggest threat is Hoseok.

Though he is nice and surprisingly very down to Earth, Hoseok is not someone anyone can hide from. Within two days of first seeing him after the interview, Hoseok was already passing them on the streets at night and in the aisle at the grocery store. The brunette deity made sure they knew he wasn’t going away as easily as (Y/n) and Yoongi would. If he saw they were doing something he didn’t like, then he’d make it known. It wasn’t easy to stay off of his radar, but they did somehow manage to do it.

And that set them up for the beginning of their whole plan.

It’s early in the afternoon and Taehyung is talking to the archeologist who “discovered” Namjoon’s tomb. Truly, Taehyung had already opened the tomb himself, but no one needed to know that. What was important was that he impress the man enough for him to send Namjoon and all of his artifacts - including the necklace he snuck back into the crypt - to his exhibit.

“I truly believe that we can give King Namjoon a final resting place here with his tomb deteriorating at such a fast pace. I wouldn’t want to see anything damaged, especially the King’s notes on his experience with the Moon Goddess.”

“Ah, yes, the Moon Goddess~” The old man muses, “The old king was quite detailed in his recounts of her. The king dedicates almost a third of his journal to her.”

Taehyung smiles. Leave it to Namjoon to write a novel and dedicate it to him, “That’s very kind of him.”

“Indeed it was.” The older man stops and turns to the young curator, “You know, it has been very wonderful speaking with you today, Mr. Kim. I’ll talk with my colleagues, but I do hope to see you again.”

“Thank you. I hope to see you again as well.” Taehyung shakes the older gentleman’s hand, “Please have a safe trip home.”

The old man gives him a nod back and turns to leave. It’s just as he’s passing the information desk that Taehyung sees the young woman standing at the entrance - just as he had done with Jimin - looking around the large room in awe. He didn’t have to guess who she was, he just knew.

Eunha finally made it.

Taehyung takes long strides across the building's main floor to greet her, “Hi! Can I help you?”

The young soulmate offers him a relieved smile, “Yes. I’m here to apply for a security position.”

“Yes! Let me take you there.” Taehyung gestures for her to follow him. He turns in the direction of the cafeteria and then stops in his tracks before Seokjin runs into him. IN a flash he holds out his arm to stop Eunha before the blonde haired man can bump into her with his coffee, “Sorry about that, Seokjin’s coffee time is the most dangerous time of the day.”

Taehyung gives him a playful glare and the blonde just shrugs, “Okay, so maybe now I’ll start leaving it on my desk.”

Eunha chuckles to herself, and Taehyung feels his heart flutter. He hadn’t heard her laugh in so long, he forgot that he missed hearing it. He gestures for her to continue following him, and he leads her to Hoseok’s office where the brunette is collecting the mail from the box next to his door.

“Hoseok!-” The head of security jumps, turning around to see the other two. Taehyung tries not to laugh, “I have your interviewee for the security position.”

A light seems to go off in Hoseok’s head as the name rings a bell with him, “Ah! Choi Eunha, right?” Eunha nods and Hoseok offers her a hand, “Jung Hoseok. Please step into my office.”

“Good luck!” Eunha nods and thanks Taehyung for his help, the god waving back to her. He watches her enter the office and meets the eyes of Hoseok as he closes the door. He can tell the higher deity wants nothing more than for him to leave, but Taehyung isn’t as willing.

He waits across the hall in the employee lounge for about 20 minutes or so, anxiously eating a bag of chips he stole out of Jimin’s locker. He waits for the shadows to pass by the door before he attempts to peek his head out. Down the hall, he can see Eunha’s figure walking away towards the main room, a light bounce in her step. She looks excited, and Taehyung takes that as a good sign.

“Waiting for someone?”

“Hoseok!” Taehyung jumps, hitting his side against the doorknob. The god stumbles out of the doorway and turns himself around so he faces the higher deity. He leans one arm on the wall while the other wraps over his abdomen to cradle his side, his feet crossed over the other to appear ‘casual’. “Hey! Hi. How are you? Good interview?”

Hoseok chuckles, eyeing the god on another one of his shenanigans, “She got the job, Taehyung.”

“Yes!” Taehyung’s fist pumps the air, running in place in excitement.

Hoseok shakes his head, “I don’t know how you knew about Seokjin, but I guess I have to let you off the hook.”

Taehyung grabs Hoseok by the shoulders and pulls him into a tight hug, “Thank you, Hoseok.”

Hoseok awkwardly pats Taehyung’s back, “This wasn’t me. This was all up to Fate. (Y/n) just told me what sign to look for.”

The Moon God rolls his eyes and pulls back, “If you’re telling me to thank her, I won’t.”

“I’m not telling you to do anything. I’m just telling you not to praise me for work I didn’t do.” Hoseok reiterates, “I just hope you can take whatever Fate throws at you.”

“Trust me. I can.”

Both Jimin and Taehyung made it their jobs to become Eunha’s friends as soon as she began working. They spent the first few years of her on the day shift security getting to know her and bringing her into their lives before they actually began to incorporate their plan.

If Taehyung were to ask anyone at the museum how to describe him, it would be a total fanboy. There isn’t a day that goes by that he doesn’t mention Namjoon. Every conversation he has with anyone he tries to slip in one detail about his journey to obtain his dead king. Every small miniscule detail he gives is a segway to tell everything to Eunha.

He knows no one wants to hear him when he hops on his soapbox, but it’s what he has to do. Every move he makes is for the sake of Namjoon and Eunha to find the happiness he promised them. If he has to annoy every human he meets with his excitement, then so be it.

The day you told him his project was approved, was a day he won’t forget.

---

Taehyung knocks on the door to your office, “You wanted to see me?”

You look up from your paperwork, “Yes, please, have a seat.” You start to clear your desk and Taehyung takes the seat in front of you. “Do you know why you’re here?”

Taehyung thinks back to everything he’s done in the past week. He’s made a lot of decisions that could be considered questionable - a few that Jimin won’t even acknowledge, “Is this about the children’s exhibit? Because if it is, that was all Jeongguk’s fault, not mine.”

“No. I already know about that and I’ve chosen to ignore it as has Yoongi.” From somewhere in your overwhelming stack of papers, you pull out a blue folder and place it in front of the blonde, “This is about Namjoon.”

He takes a long look at your blank expression and the folder in front of him and bows his head, “They didn’t accept our offer...” He had thought he’d done everything he possibly could to convince the old man that his museum was the best museum. No other museum could compare! Only his would take the upmost care of Namjoon, but it he didn’t bite.

Taehyung sits up, “Can we at least talk about a temporary exhibit? Surely if we explain the situation to them, then they’ll let us have him for at least a month!”

“Taehyung….Do you really think that would be enough time? The results wouldn’t possibly change in that time.” You’re right, of course. Even if he tries to deny it, you’re always right, “What would you even tell them?”

Taehyung doesn’t even think, “That having this exhibit at our museum would be the most important decision of their lives.”

You shake your head, “No one would think that’s reason enough Taehyung.”

Taehyung can’t help but wonder why that’s always the answer anyone can ever give him. How could no one else understand the importance of love? No one seems to understand Eunha and Namjoon like he does, and this is just another wrench in his plan. How would he ever bring them together now?

“So-” You open the blue folder that sits between the two of you to reveal the form he had submitted months ago with an “approved” stamped at the bottom, “I guess it’s only for the best that they accepted our offer.”

“Are you serious?” Taehyung asks. You nod, but Taehyung still grabs the folder off the desk to see for himself. After years of begging and endless praise and admiratio towards the dead human king, Taehyung had finally gotten eactly what he wanted. His plan was actually falling into place in front of his very own eyes. “And him and Eunha?”

“Their fate is out of my hands, Taehyung.” You had hope he wouldn’t ask. The closer the two humans come together, the more complicated their fate becomes. Every step is another twist around the other string, another pin for you to deal with. You sigh, “Two converged strings brought together before their time won’t act the same way two strings slowly inching together will. Ties have been cut and burned and there's no telling how Fate will twist them even further.”

The blonde’s brow furrows in confusion, “What is that supposed to mean?”

“For all I know, their strings could knot together and the connection could never go any further.” It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve seen it happen. When Jimin had separated the humans from their soulmates, you’d come across many burned and knotted strings. Some were so stuck, there was no way for you to unravel them without creating a rift like the one Taehyung has made. “They would be stuck.”

“Would you be able to fix it?” He asks.

You shake your head, “Probably not in the way you want me to.”

Taehyung groans and slams his palm down against the top of your desk, startling you, “Why is Fate against them?!”

“If I knew the answer Taehyung, I would tell you.” It makes you sad to see him like this. With his own string caught in the middle of the two lovers, he’s only making himself miserable at every turn and every inconvenience. And with the outcomes that have made themselves known to you, there are countless terrible endings for the lovers. It’s like the two are world’s apart, with Taehyung hopping back and forth through hoop after hoop just to make them happy.

Without a second thought, you lean over your desk to place a hand over his, “We have the king. Accept that for now and worry about whatever plan you’ve concocted for when he gets here.”

---

Taehyung is pulled out of his memory when he sees two of the movers struggling to carry the sarcophagus he’d buried Namjoon in all those years ago, “Careful with him! I don’t want him damaged.”

“He’s fine, Taehyung.” Yoongi assures him, patting the lower god on the back, “That’s kinda why he has a box.”

Taehyung shakes his head in disapproval. He’s not surprised someone as bitter as Life doesn’t get it, “Okay, but the box is an important part of his history! It all has to be perfect.”

“Is his jewelry here yet?” The grumpy deity asks.

“You mean his lover’s necklace?” Yoongi nods, “No, they haven’t sent it yet.”

Hoseok pipes up from the loading doors, “That’s scheduled for next week, Eunha will be here for that one.”

“Eunha?” Taehyung asks. Hoseok nods and Taehyung smiles, the perfect plan forming in his mind, “Perfect.”

Hoseok warily eyes the smug expression on Taehyung’s face and chooses to ignore it, “Yeah...anyways, the necklace and a few more items will be here next week as well. That shipment won’t be as large.”

“What day is that again?”

“Tuesday.”

Yoongi groans, “A full moon…”

“What’s so bad about a full moon.” Johnny asks, unaware of the dilemma happening between the 3 deities.

“Things happen when the moon is full and I don't like it.” Yoongi says it so nonchalantly, but his glare directed at Taehyung shows how he truly feels. The Moon God is most powerful on the full Moon, and that can only spell trouble for everyone else. He sighs, “I guess I don’t have a choice, so I’ll be there.”

“Good, cause you’re my ride.” Hoseok reminds him.

“Of course I am.” Life sighs, “Just get to work in grabbing the things we have now so we can get the exhibit together for this Friday.”

The movers get to work on taking the lighter items, but Taehyung protests their movement, “But the main attraction isn’t here.”

Yoongi grabs the curator by the shoulders and turns him around, “The main attraction is the dead guy. Now get moving.”

Everyone but Taehyung continues to get back to work. The blonde takes his one chance to approach his long lost friend and gently place his hand on the top, “Don’t worry, my friend. I won’t let you down this time.”

---

The night that Taehyung intends to invoke his plan, he’s sitting in Namjoon’s exhibit on the bench in front of his sarcophagus. Every night since his arrival he’s done this, enjoying the comfort of being close to his friend. Even if the king can’t talk back, it feels familiar to be with him. Besides, Eunha will have to come and kick him out before she locks up the exhibit for the night. The perfect ruse to tell her more about her beloved soulmate.

But if Taehyung were to be honest with himself, he couldn’t be more nervous than he is right now. So many things could go wrong, and there was no telling if what he was planning to do would actually help Namjoon and Eunha. If he messed this up - if he makes everything worse - then there’s no telling what will happen to the two.

Behind him, Taehyung hears the clicking of heels against the floor of the exhibit. It’s definitely not Eunha - her shoes don’t make that sound - he only knows one person who wears heels and likes to sneak up on him, “Please tell me you’re not here to scold me again.”

“It won’t do me any good to scold you if you’re not going to listen.” You sit down next to him and rest your laptop case on the bench next to you, taking in the view of the exhibit in front of you. The king’s sarcophagus is lit by two spotlights hanging from the ceiling on either side, the jewels on the top glittering under the light.

Next to you, the blonde man sighs. He’s been acting weird all day and it’s been putting everyone on edge, “You’re worried. Is it about the necklace?”

“Do you know enough to answer my questions?” He asks.

“I do.”

“Will he wake up?”

“Yes.”

“And will she love him?” You hesitate, giving Taehyung the answer he was already worried about, “She’s not going to love him...”

You sigh, “She doesn’t remember him Taehyung.”

“He didn’t even meet her and he loved her!” He argues, standing from the bench.

“And that’s not my problem!” Taehyung never fails to forget that you can’t actually control Fate, you can only look over it and see the outcomes, “I can’t control how they love.”

“They’re soulmates, are they not?” He asks, “Tied together by Fate? Your strings?!”

You hold up a hand, “I only hold the cards, Taehyung. I play them when they’re needed.”

“That’s what you always say...” Taehyung mutters to himself, sitting back down on the bench and leaving a space in between.

You sigh, “It’s not like I don’t want them to be happy, Taehyung, but I have a job to do.”

“Your job should prioritize their happiness.”

“There are 7 trillion humans just like them, Taehyung. They can’t all be happy.” Taehyung doesn’t say anything in response and you take another deep breath to calm yourself. From down the hall, you can hear muted footsteps coming closer. With it being so close to closing time, there’s only so many people it can be. You stand and adjust your laptop case on your shoulder, “She’s coming. I’ll leave you here.”

Taehyung doesn’t bid you farewell, and you take that as your chance to slip away. As you walk past the cases parallel to the door, you see Eunha walking in to close up for the night. You see the face she makes when she sees Taehyung and you have to stifle a giggle.

“Have a good night, ma’am.” She says with a genuine smile.

You nod, “You too.”

Hopefully, of all the scenarios that could happen tonight before the morning, they all choose the best one.

~ Read Part 4 ~

41 notes · View notes