#i know what im doing but i feel so helpless to actually stop it | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

icallhimjoey · 2 months ago

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okay so what if for once joe was the drama queen cos he’s Big Mad over some stuff…how would that play out

this guy's a whole idiot, im not sure i like him all that much... Wordcount: 2.3K

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I Prefer The Moon Anyway

“I’m sorry...”

If someone asked you without Joe in the room, you’d tell them Joe was being an unreasonable little bitch boy.

“I said I’m sorry.”

But Joe is right there, ignoring you, and you’re apologising just to apologise. You know he wants to hear it, so you’re giving him the words, even if they’re empty.

“I heard you.” Joe’s remark is cold. He can tell you don’t mean it. That you are just avoiding a fight. He doesn’t blame you, he wants a fight even less than you, but you’re annoying him in a way he doesn’t have the words for.

If someone was to ask him without you in the room, he’d tell them this is the exact point of a relationship at which he’d usually turn into stone. This is where he grows numb. Cares less. Starts to protect himself in silence and prepares for the inevitable break up that’s coming.

The beginning of the end.

“But what do you want me to do?” you ask, sounding a little more desperate and helpless than you want, but you can’t help it. Joe’s asking something ridiculously unreasonable. Something you can’t give him. Don’t want to give him. It doesn’t help that you think he’s actually being a dramatic baby who feels like he’s not gotten enough attention. A coddled man who wants the whole world to bend to his needs.

Joe just shrugs. Knows exactly what he wants you to do.

And to be fair, the world has bent to his needs for ages, so who is to blame him for expecting you to do the same?

Joe’s pouting.

He looks like a child who’s overdoing a sad face to get a little empathy from his classmates. Like the kids all across the playground need to see that he’s hurt. Like he needs to guilt-trip them into giving him the toy that he allegedly saw first so he stops crying and they can all be friends again.

You fucking hate it.

“Can you hear yourself, though?” you try for some logic. For some critical thinking skills. Does he see, in the grand scheme of things, how utterly ridiculous he’s being?

Joe shrugs again, but this time it’s conspicuously uninvolved. Like he doesn’t give a single shit about how unreasonable he’s being. He’s gone from acting like you’re burning down the whole world to suddenly acting like he’d rather live on the moon anyway. Burn it, bitch. Whatever. He couldn’t care less.

He won’t reach out to touch you tonight. He’s going to break your one rule if you keep this up. All because of schedules that never seem to coordinate – something that’s neither his fault or yours.

“I sure can. Can you?” Joe bites back, wants to hear a sincere apology from you. He wants to hear in your voice that he’s right and that he’s not selfish for wanting what he wants. For feeling the way he feels. Not his fault he loves you.

That’s what he’ll bring it back to – always.

He just loves you a lot.

How can you hate him for that, Big Wet Brown Sad Eyes™? Hmm?

Which... it’s so unfair.

And selfish.

He wants you to drop everything at a moment’s notice because he needs you right now. Doesn’t give a shit about what you need.

It’s fucking selfish, is what it is.

And the problem is that Joe’s selfishness is exactly what’s put you where you are now, in his living room, in a weird fight that you would both rather not be a part of.

��Please repeat what you’re asking of me.” You narrow your eyes at him as you look over your shoulder, convinced that he knows he’s wrong and that he should be the one apologising to you.

“Is it too much to ask of my girlfriend to spend time with me?”

You sigh. You’re so frustrated. That’s not what he’s asking of you - that’s what he’s dressing it up as, which is unfair. What Joe’s asking is for you to drop your work at a moment’s notice because he’s suddenly found an evening off in his schedule and he decided he wants to spend it with you. But he hasn’t actually checked to see if you have the time. Just assumed that you did.

A risky assumption to make.

Because you don’t.

“You know I barely get any time to myself, I don’t know when I’ll have a night off next... could be weeks.” Joe places both hands on your shoulders to give you a little squeeze there. Massages the muscles in places he knows are tight just from the look of you. Gets his mouth close to your ear and lowly says, “Come on, baby. It’s just one night.”

You need to finish work.

There’s a deadline tomorrow you need to make, no questions asked.

Your evening plans surround you and your laptop and a wifi connection, and you were hoping you’d maybe get to sit in the same room as Joe as he would do some work of his own. Some prep for next day’s scenes. Some reading, some rehearsing.

Not this.

Not Joe trying to coax you into a bad performance review just because he felt bored that one night he suddenly found himself with a hole in his agenda.

“I’m here,” you say dryly, but you know that’s not what he means. “You can spend time with me whilst I finish all of this up.”

Joe communicates it with a look. A drop of his face and shoulders, letting you go and stepping away. Eyes rolling because, that’s not fair. He wants to take you out. Go some place nice. Talk and laugh and spend some actual time with you. See if some of his other current colleagues want to join, so he can introduce you.

And it’s awful because that’s what you want too. But you feel like you’ve wanted that a million times, and every time you’ve tried to plan something, Joe’s been busy. Always so busy. Table reads, night shoots, long hours, long commutes, a party here, an event there. And it’s always, “Babe, it’s for work, I can’t just cancel.”

Yet, that’s exactly what he’s asking of you now.

“I don’t know why you assume that your time is more valuable than mine.”

“I don’t think that at all! When have I ever said that?”

It’s how he’s acting. It says enough.

“Listen to what you’re saying; you’ve got a bit of free time. You do. You. Not me though. Not tonight. Does that sound familiar? At all?”

The tables have turned, just this once. He can just fucking deal with it like you have all those times before.

“Don’t. You know that’s not–”

“So your job is more important than mine?”

It pays more, Joe thinks immediately, but refrains from speaking the words into the room. Knows that won’t help, but it’s definitely telling how quick the comeback came to him.

“Hmm? Your time more important than mine?” You push.

Joe needs to realise that, if that’s actually how he feels, how outrageous the thought is. Just by your face, he needs to feel how those thoughts need reevaluating.

“You’re putting words in my mouth.”

You’re not. You’re just reading his body-language.

“Your priority is you. You have a free minute and so I’m supposed to just work my way around your schedule and– mind you, you didn’t even know about this until this afternoon! This deadline at work has been there for months!”

You should’ve stayed at the office.

Finished up there.

Joe is pacing now. Walking around his own living room with flared nostrils, taking in your words until you leave enough room for him to say anything.

Which, when he finally gets a chance, he drops an insane bombshell.

“Well, if you hadn’t procrastinated everything until the night before, maybe we wouldn’t be where we are right now.”

Oh, what the fuck?

Did it take too long for you to set the world alight? Did Joe think it necessary to douse it in petrol and hold a lit match between two fingers a little too loosely? One small move from you could be used as an excuse to drop it, and full blame could be placed with you.

Clever.

But so are you.

You don’t make a move.

Not a single fucking muscle.

You just stare at him over your laptop screen.

Frozen in place.

And Joe stares right back.

It’s like a fucking duel.

You remember a time where you were in Joe’s shoes. The ones he’s wearing right now. The difference being that, back then, there were actual plans made that you’d been looking forward to, and then two days before, Joe complained about having to cancel on seeing family. He added that it’d be the third time he had to dip out on something, and how that made him feel like an awful person, but his job was just too demanding right now. People wanted him everywhere, all of the time, and whilst he typed away at his phone to apologise to his mum, he didn’t see how your face fell too, because you knew if he was telling family members he couldn’t make it to something, he was also going to have to cancel on you.

Again.

You’d cried, then. Only silently. Wiped a tear away quickly and masked a sniff as a deep breath, because you didn’t want him to feel worse.

Trust Joe to feel guilty for having to cancel on family for the third time and forget about the person in the room with him.

You then wondered if he ever kept count with you.

“You okay?” he had asked when you’d fallen silent, and you’d smiled and nodded. “Yea, just tired.” which wasn’t a lie, but it also wasn’t the full truth that Joe accepted it as.

Idiot.

It was fine. It wasn’t his fault.

You’d taken your frustration out on him later that night, when he left your toothpaste uncapped on the side, and you’d grumbled until the lights in the bedroom got turned off, and Joe reached out to you under the covers.

The one rule.

Even if you were upset, or angry, or wanted to fully murder each other, you had to at least still touch each other in bed. To let the other know that, yea I’d rather fucking shout at you until I go hoarse right now, but I still love you.

It could be a big toe touching a shin, or an elbow digging into a bicep – a touch was a touch. An I love you hidden in the dark.

And you had accepted it easily then.

Yea, it was annoying that Joe’s work dictated so much of what your relationship could even be, but it wasn’t his fault, so there was no use blaming him for it.

That was then.

You don’t know when you’d grown past the point of simply accepting all the bullshit. When you decided to maybe not brush things off and be the cool girlfriend who was there for her boyfriend wherever and whenever, especially in all the moments he wouldn’t have been there for you had the tables been reversed.

Like right fucking now.

You are still staring at Joe across the room when you see how suddenly, he starts to blink his eyes rapidly. See how suddenly, his jaw starts working. You know he’s biting back tears and, no – you won’t fucking have that. This motherfucker can cry on command and you don’t doubt for a single second he’d use that to get his own way.

“Don’t fucking guilt-trip me into losing my job.”

Joe’s immediately offended.

He drops the match.

“Well, I’m sorry for being disappointed.”

World on fire.

“Do you want me to leave?” you spit out, louder than you initially thought you’d make your voice go.

“No, no,” Joe immediately says, but it sounds patronising, even though he’s on the verge of tears. Like he actually means yes, please leave, because what good are you going to be to him having to sit at his kitchen table and do work all night.

“Stay. Make your deadline.”

You ignore the sarcastic bite and take a second to sit back in your chair and assess what needs doing. How long it’ll take you all. What time you’ll likely be finished. You conclude that, if Joe’s gonna be moping around, giving big sighs from across the room, that it will likely take twice as long.

You should leave.

“No, I should go. Get this done and then see you after.”

It’s the last thing Joe expected. For you to go on your own merit. Because of your work that needs doing, and not because you’ve gotten into a huge fight. You’re not storming off and screaming how you never want to see him again. You have work to do and want to see him after you’ve finished it.

It’s stupid how fast everything inside of him flips.

He doesn’t actually want you to leave.

He wants you to shut your laptop and sigh lovingly and mutter, “How could I ever resist you?” through a smile before you kiss him silly and follow him out into the night.

But instead you shut your laptop and bend to pick up your bag from the floor to stick it into and, no, that’s not what he wants.

“No, wait... wait. I’m sorry.” he says he before he even realises what he’s doing. Unsure if he really means it. He just doesn’t want you to get up and leave. If anything, he’d like to talk more and get you to eventually prioritise him over everything else. “Stay. We can... you can finish work and then we could do something after.”

You drop your head all the way back and take a moment to let your eyes dart to all corners of his ceiling.

What if you don’t finish this until after 11? After midnight? Is he just going to watch you work from the sofa and ask you how much longer every three minutes because he thinks you’re taking too long?

You should leave.

“I should go. I’m probably better off at the office, actually. It’s where I’ll get it done faster, I think.” You say all of it kindly. Stick your laptop into your bag calmly, no jerky annoyance in your limbs. But you don’t make eye-contact so he can’t use the Big Browns on you, and instead of trying to stomp on the flames to make the fire go out, he wafts a fresh gust of wind right over them, making them climb much higher.

“All right, fuck off then. See if I give a shit.”

If someone asked you without Joe in the room, you’d tell them Joe needed a moment to calm down and you’d talk to him in the morning after you’d made this deadline.

You didn’t start the fire.

Joe did.

And he’d figure that out eventually.

If someone was to ask Joe without you in the room, he’d tell them fuck her, apparently she doesn’t give a shit about him, and actually, that’s totally not a problem at all, because he prefers the moon anyway.

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The Taglisted

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add yourself

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soft4gguk · 4 months ago

Text

to build a home | chapter thirteen

Pairing: Jungkook x reader. ceo!jk + dilf!jk x nanny!oc

Genre: strangers to lovers. angst. fluff. smut.

Word count: 9k

Warnings: angst. angst. angst. i’m so sorry. jealousy. self doubt. ira talks im sorry!!! but i felt like it was important. oblivious kookie :/ confused oc!! sad oc :( soori’s teething and it breaks my heart. oral (f receiving) 😈

Author’s note: hi besties!! another tbah sunday! i love being back soo much. this is an odd chapter, i feel. i sort of lost track of time and how much of it i actually had to finish so it’s a bit of a shorter one. it’s missing the final part, sort of. and it was making me anxious! because i wanted to post today. and then i remembered i make the rules so… chapter fourteen is coming no longer than wednesday!! it’s outlined and it’ll be what was missing in this chapter. we’re back to tbah sundays after that tho :) i love u guys so much. do let me know what u think of this chappie, i love book clubbing with yall!! xoxo

This is a work of fiction. Please respect the members and their privacy. x

Chapter Thirteen

When you get home that night, you smell like him. It alters your senses, your body nothing but a phantom touch of where he’d been. You look at yourself in the mirror and laugh at how obvious his mark is. He doesn’t just show on your smudged mascara or your messy hair, no. He’s all over your eyes. You can’t tell if the glint in them is from the remnants of the pleasure he made you feel or from the tears that threaten to fall. And perhaps that’s just what you need. To cry. Not with feminine rage music playing in the background, or in a burst of anger, but just to cry. To let yourself feel whatever it is your heart needs to. You can feel it, the way it screams at you and begs you to just let it be.

So you let it. You shower, letting your tears get lost in the water that falls down your body. You cry when you let yourself release the feeling and you cry when you wash him off your body, his smell going down the drain alongside your anger. Now you’re just sad.

You cry your skincare off and give up on it tonight. You brush your hair until you can’t stare at yourself in the mirror anymore, because it just makes you cry more. For some reason the reflection that stares back at you convinces you that this is why he doesn’t love you. You look like a little child, hopeless and helpless. Eyes puffy, bared faced, in your old pajamas with the faded print that once said, born to be cute. You’ve had them since you were fifteen and all of a sudden, your nostalgic attachment feels dumb. You feel dumb. And pathetic. And sad. Your brain is cruel, letting you know exactly what it thinks. How could he want to be with someone like this? Like you? It’s almost ironic how your words of hatred all originate from words of love. From the words of love he didn’t reciprocate.

You think of Ira, because the streak of cruelty couldn’t just end there. You think of her beauty, of her face. You wonder if she ever felt like this about herself. If she ever stared at the mirror and didn’t feel like the reflection staring back at her was enough. You don’t want to be unfair towards her, but you doubt it. You doubt someone like her could ever walk into a room with uncertain steps and words that faltered. All you can see when you look at her is confidence and beauty. Her and Jungkook made sense together. It almost felt like a perfect trick from the universe – a power move.

You get under your covers, exhausted and with the hints of a headache that threatens to settle aggressively if you kept the tears running. You hug the teddy bear you’d grown emotionally attached to when you were six. It makes you feel pathetic yet again, but it also brings comfort and so you pull it closer to you. You wonder if you’ll ever fully grow up. The heart ache turns into something bigger, something downright existential and it won’t stop. Even if you tell yourself that it’s irrational, that things just look bad right now but won’t be like this forever. The self doubt roots inside of you, growing branches that grow through your body. Will you ever become something out of who you are right now? Will you write a book, buy a house, travel the world, start a family? The last one breaks you with a nature that’s so acute it brings back the tears.

You grab your phone, an intense desire to type Ira Sommersmith into the search bar. You find it kind of funny – to be comparing yourself to someone that you can literally google. When did you ever stand a chance with him, really? When did it ever make sense that he’d choose you? When did it occur to you that you were enough?

Ira was from a small town in Europe you couldn’t pronounce. When she was younger she spent most of her time riding horses, they were her biggest passion. She even says it in an interview after they ask her what she thinks she’d be doing if she wasn’t a model, pondering on it for a second before replying, “I’d be in a farm, riding horses all day.” And even though her hair is perfectly styled and she’s wearing very pointy stilettos, you believe her. Her dreams sound completely valid to you because amidst her sharp features, she has a soft face.

Another article tells you she’d been scouted when she was sixteen. She’d been on holiday in London with her parents – she was an only child – and she’d gotten stopped in the street. In another interview where she talks about this, she laughs timidly when they ask her, her gaze down when she says, “they told me I was beautiful in the way things in important places where. Like magazines and billboards,” she softens the flattery by saying, “if you consider those things to be important, of course.” And it’s during that interview that you realize you can’t hate her. Not because you don’t want to, but because she makes it really hard to.

She’d been on her own ever since – traveling the world, walking the most important catwalks in the most important cities, grazing the covers of every magazine and billboards, she’d even made a couple of movie appearances. You wonder how you could’ve missed her. She seemed to be everywhere. She sits on a makeup chair, two people behind her doing her hair at the same time, while someone else works on her face. She talks about having had a 4 am call time, sleeping very little the night before, being jet lagged and hungry. But she laughs as she says this. You almost laugh, too. The camera man asks her how she keeps up with the hecticness and she doesn’t sit on her words for even a second before she says, “I have a really great support system. My family, my friends. Also, I always keep a snack on me.” The video shows pictures of her, in different settings, with said family and friends. You actually recognize some of the faces – actresses, models, influencers. You pause the video in the middle of a particular frame when you see a face you recognize better than the others. It’s Kenny. It’s probably the picture that dates back the furthest, they both look so young. You type their names into another Google search and their friendship is revealed to you in an almost too perfect of a timeline. They’d been friends since they were eighteen after meeting backstage at a Chanel show. Your eyes widen. A Chanel show. Holy fuck. Who were you acquainted with? Kenny almost looks like a different person behind the camera, her eyes fierce and face cold.

You scroll and scroll until something catches your eye. It’s a paparazzi picture, taken in a big city you don’t recognize. Hobi has his arm around Kenny and Ira and Jungkook hold hands and look into each other’s eyes as they strut down a sidewalk. It looks straight out of a catalog, or something. They’re perfect. Then it’s his name alongside hers that you’re typing into the search bar. You’re surprised to find that their relationship had been quite private, not a lot of information about it on the web besides the basics. Forbes talks about Ira being a model, Vogue talks about Jungkook being the heir to The West End Collection. The anonymity their relationship holds brings some sort of frenzy, though, as you read a couple of tweets and posts that idolize their relationship. Strangers wishing them the best, looking up to them, wishing they could have a boyfriend just like him. Another perfect paparazzi shoot of them at the beach, Jungkook picking Ira up from behind, mid-spin. She’s radiant as she laughs, body clad in a white bikini thar reveals her perfect body. There’s over 300 comments under the picture. Someone says, “if my girl looked like that I’d be in a good mood for the rest of my life.”

And you get it. You get it because she’s beautiful, and talented and easygoing. She’s confident but humble and when she speaks, you can see the way she thinks about the words before they leave her, making her sound so very eloquent. She’s gentle and dainty and her voice is soft. The more you scroll, the more you form these thoughts inside your head and then you find the perfect word to describe her: gracious. Elegant is a close second.

Your eyes feel heavy and it’s nearly two a.m.. Your phone screen illuminates your face as another video plays. She’s being asked 73 questions.

“What’s something you can’t live without?”

“My boyfriend.”

“So, you’re in love.”

She nods, a blush creeping up her cheeks.

“He’s the love of my life.”

Your body aches with exhaustion, courtesy of your late night perusing. Your gaze gets lost on the fruit you’re cutting at a lethargic pace and you don’t even react when you lose grip on the knife and it comes dangerously close to cutting through your skin.

Mrs. Chae walks over to you, but you don’t notice her proximity until she’s placing a coffee cup in front of you, her movements gentle, like she understands. When you look up at her and smile, she smiles back, briefly caressing your arm before she’s back to busying herself with her morning responsibilities. Her kindness makes you want to cry.

You hear Soori’s cries long before she enters your line of vision, and when she finally does, she’s pouting and squinting her eyes before letting out another long wail.

“Oh, my sweet baby,” you walk over to them, running your hands down her cheeks, wiping her tears away. She turns around, nuzzling her face between Jungkook’s neck.

“She’s been in pain since she woke up. I gave her a bottle and some Tylenol but nothing helps.” Jungkook rocks her from side to side, hand coming to cup her little head to try and comfort her, but her cries only get louder.

“It’s okay, the medicine will kick in soon and I’ll keep her as comfortable as I possibly can,” you reassure him, but he still looks miserable, guilt settling in the closer he gets to having to leave.

“I hate to leave her like this.”

“You’re not leaving her. You’ll be back home soon. It’s okay, Jungkook, she’s going through a totally normal process. As painful as it is for her, she’ll be fine.”

He nods and she seems to calm down, too, turning around as if following the sound of your voice. She stares at you for a second and you smile and even though she doesn’t reciprocate it, she falls into your arms the way she does every morning.

“Hi, baby,” you kiss her chubby cheeks. “You’ll be alright. Say, I’m gonna be okay daddy!” It’s sweet music to your ears as you get a little chuckle out of her when you raise her little arm.

Jungkook stares at her, lovingly. He stares at you lovingly, too, only you’re too busy being sad to notice. You can barely look into his eyes.

“I’ll probably be late today again, w-”

“We’ll be here. And I’ll be with her. Don’t worry.”

“Thank you, ___.”

And all you can do is smile at him, only allowing yourself to stare into his eyes for a brief second, because any longer could break you further and he’d have no other choice than to know. Perhaps that wouldn’t be such a bad thing – you’re smart enough to know that. But the side of you that can barely handle your feelings wonders how hard it’d be to share them, yet again, with him. Your heart, achey as ever reminds you that it was the shared feelings he couldn’t do anything about that land you right where you are now.

You decide to be with your sadness, alone.

Soori’s pain comes in waves. In the morning she’s fuzzy, then after breakfast she seems to be doing a little better. You two play in the garden and you let her get messy with watercolors. She’s distracted enough for all of two hours, which you deem a success in your book. She cries again as you put her down for her nap. She cries until she tires herself and you hold her through it all. When you try to put her down on her crib, she wakes up, tears threatening to leave her eyes again, and so you hold her and sit down on the rocking chair, letting her sleep on you. You let her sleep as much as she needs and when she wakes up, you have drool all over your shirt. You smile, knowing that’s a clear sign that it was a deep and successful nap.

She’s good during lunch time and then fuzzy again afterwards. She throws a block at you and you hate that you have to give her the gentle talk when she’s in such visible pain. But she’s good and she listens and when she nuzzles herself into your arms ten minutes later, you know it’s because she’s sorry. She’s so smart and it’s beginning to show in every aspect of her.

You read her books, even as she cries halfway into the third, eventually falling asleep. You let her snooze in your arms once again, but try to keep the nap short so she can have a good night’s sleep. She’s a bit groggy and unhappy when you wake her up but she gets straight to playing afterwards. You make her a snack and it seems to be going well until she’s back to restless tears. It kind of reminds you of when you’d first met her, when you were certain about having obliterated your chances at getting to spend time with the “cute baby”. She cries and cries and yet all you can think of is how grateful you are that you got the job, by some odd chance and one hell of a lot of luck.

You stare out into the garden as you rock her in your arms. Your exhaustion is starting to get the best of you and you’re relieved when she begins to calm down, her sobs turning into tiny sniffles and her head falling into your shoulder. You give her back soft, little pats as she relaxes in your hold. And right as you think she’s about to fall asleep, her head springs up and you hear her say,

“Dada!”

You turn around, surprised eyes on Jungkook as he makes his way inside the living room. He smiles at Soori, who jumps in your hold when he outstretches his arms in her direction as he greets her sweetly.

“Hi, baby,” he takes her in his arms, lathering kisses all over her cheeks. She giggles and you smile in relief because it’s so good to see her so happy. “Daddy’s home! Did you miss me?” she claps her hands as if agreeing with him and he laughs, kissing all over her face.

“You’re home early,” you say, a small smile on your face as you take in the scene before you.

He takes a step forward, grabbing you by the waist and kissing you. It takes you by surprise but you let him. The kiss is deep but soft and it lasts longer than you’d expect. You feel his smile on your lips long before he pulls away.

“We closed the deal,” he says. “It’s done. We did it.”

You smile, hugging him to you. Your face to his chest and words muffled when you say, “congratulations.”

Soori taps on your shoulder, whining as she gets smothered between the two of you, making you both laugh as you stare at her. She looks confused and pouty, can’t decide who she wants to entertain first. She smiles at you before she’s nuzzling her head against her father’s neck. Jungkook does a little jump and she shrieks in excitement, looking back at you and smiling again.

“I want to celebrate,” he says.

“You should. I know how hard you’ve been working for this, it deserves a celebration.”

“With you.” He pulls you closer once again. “And Soori. Us three. We can have dinner somewhere nice, what do you think?”

You ponder on his words, suddenly being hit with the exhaustion you’ve been carrying since the morning tenfold. You also think about the way your heart has been actively breaking since last night, and probably for the past two weeks. You look at his face, a big smile that makes him look young and carefree. In times like these you convince yourself that you see him like no one in the world can.

“I don’t know, I-” you try, but the minute you see his smile drop, it’s impossible to keep up the cold front. “I don’t have anything fancy to wear.” you follow your lies with a smile.

He kisses you again. “You don’t need to.”

“I’d have to go change though.”

“We can stop by your place,” he runs his hand through your hair.

“Okay,” your voice is faint. Barely there.

“Great!” He turns to Soori, bouncing her in his arms. “I need to call Jin, run him through some final protocols. I’ll be twenty minutes tops and then we can go.”

He says this in a hurry, making his way to his office already.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?”

He looks at you, confused. “Huh,” and then it hits him as Soori chuckles. “Oh! Shit. Yeah.” He laughs, passing her over to you. “I’ll be right back.”

He kisses her forehead, then yours. When he turns around Soori looks at you. You stare back and shrug, making her laugh.

“He’s funny, huh,” you say, and she laughs even louder. “Yeah, he is. You have a good daddy.”

And as much as your heart exhausts itself at your words, it knows that much is true. It just can’t help but wonder if it’s enough.

You stand before your closet, hands on your hips as you attempt to find something that’s presentable enough for the very fancy and certainly very expensive restaurant Jungkook had chosen. French cuisine, classic interiors and a seasonal menu. You knew it was almost impossible to get a reservation because Lucy had studied their M.O. in class and often praised their chefs. In Jungkook’s case, the reservation was one call away and probably all but three minutes to finalize. He’d told you he frequented the place quite often and that they had, and you quote, a soft spot for him.

You skim through your dresses, skirts, shirts, all a little frantically as you look at the time. You don’t have much of it, but luckily you’d done your makeup first thing, darkening your eyes a bit to distract from the fact that you wouldn’t be able to pull a dress that impressed. Your hair was in an updo that looked like it’d taken longer to perfect but in reality, you’d gotten lucky and got it just right the first time.

You’re in nothing but your underwear, as if the power of your sight alone could make fancy little dresses magically appear. You don’t know what to do, and so you call Lucy.

“Hello, you,” she greets sweetly.

“Lucy, I don’t have anything to wear.”

“I’ve been well! How have you been, ___? Oh! I miss you, too.”

You laugh, playfully rolling your eyes. “I miss you more than you miss me, I can guarantee that much.”

“Never,” she says, “what’s this fashion emergency about?”

“Well, we’re going to La Mélodie and-”

“Woah?”

“Yeah,” you sigh.

“Date night, huh?”

You think about it. “Mm, something like that, sure. But I don’t know what to wear. I have nothing to wear!”

She goes silent for a second and you can hear her gears getting into motion. Finally she says,

“You do. But you’re not gonna like it. But you’re gonna have to hear me out.”

“Okay…”

“Do you remember that Halloween, well into your hoe era, that you wore that skimpy black dress and painted whiskers on your face and said you were a rat?”

You gasp. “I was a mouse.”

“Potatoe, potato.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No. I’m pretty sure I flashed like, three people that night. Involuntarily. Like, I actually had to apologize for it.”

“That’s to blame on tequila, not on the dress! It was a good dress. And I’m afraid it’s your only option so you better buddy up with it!”

“Great. I guess I’ll be the slutty nanny tonight.”

“That’s a great porn title, make good use of it!”

“Lucy. Soori will be joining us.”

“Why is the baby joining you? No offense to the baby. But why?”

“Long story. I’ll catch you up later. I love you. Thank you.”

She sends flying kisses to you before hanging up. It takes you a minute to commit to it, but you get the dress out, examining it top to bottom. Yep, still skimpy. But it’ll have to do. You throw it over your body and walk towards your mirror. The reflection that looks back at you looks nothing like the sad, puffy eyed girl from last night. No, you look hot. Yes, it’s a bit short, but Lucy was right, it’s nowhere near as bad as you remember. It hugs your ass perfectly, drawing over your curves and pushing your tits upwards the right amount. There’s not much to it, just a little black dress, but you certainly do bring it to life. You throw a pair of heels on, cursing them the moment you feel the way it arches your feet in an inhumane way, and brave yourself up for the night.

When you leave your room, Jungkook’s jaw drops. It drops in such a visible manner that he has to collect himself and close his mouth before he makes a fool out of himself. It’s your face he fixates on first. He tries to wrap his brain around what it is that makes you look so different, yet still beautiful in the way he’s so very used to when it comes to you. It’s your eyes, he thinks. The dark eyeshadow you’ve smudged on them in such a subtle but notable way. It makes your eyes big and bright but they make your gaze fall a little bit, making him feel things in the pit of his stomach. Then his own eyes scan down, taking their time to take in your body. Your dress looks painted on and his breath hitches in his throat, letting him know it was gonna be a long night if this is what one minute of you in this dress was doing to him. But what resounds the loudest in his head is that, simply put, you looked beautiful, taking up the entire meaning of the word.

“I’m ready,” you say, letting your arms awkwardly fall next to your body, giving him a tight lipped smile.

Soori’s enthralled by an episode of Bluey that plays on your TV screen, and so Jungkook walks over to you, granting himself the luxury to simply perceive you and enjoy the view. He smiles, and though he doesn’t mean to, it’s seductive. It makes your tummy flutter, the ever so evident butterflies that never seem to leave.

“Fuck dinner.” He stands in front of you, leaving you wide eyed and your mouth agape at his words.

“Language,” you say, looking over at Soori.

“She doesn’t care about us right now, trust me,” he says, wrapping his arms around your waist and bringing you closer to him. “You,” his hand travels down your lower back, tempting to go lower but he stops himself, “look so beautiful.”

“Thanks,” your words are soft as you smile at him, wrapping your hands around his neck, letting his attention warm you all over.

One of his hands travels up, landing on your cheek, gently cupping the side of your face and you close your eyes, letting the weight of your head fall into it. His thumb brushes your skin and just as you’re about to wish for it, he puts his lips on yours. He hums against them, taking his time, tasting you, letting your smell hit his senses until all he can think about is you. His tongue parts your lips, deepening the kiss as he flushes his chest to yours. You can’t fight it. You can’t deny him, you can’t even remember why it is that you were trying to just a couple of seconds ago. In between kisses and touch, you submit to him.

He pulls away, looking into your eyes before he says, “see? I don’t need dinner. That was a great entree.”

You laugh, playfully hitting his chest. “You do have a tongue on you, that’s for sure.”

Your words aren’t meant to come off the way they do. Your intentions are a play on words to let him know he was being witty to get his way, but alas, they have him raising his eyebrows at you, a smirk adorning his lips.

“Oh,” is all he says.

“No, I mean,” you stall on your words, mind already transfixed on the other truth to your statement. “Because that was clever. What you said,” you stutter, “you get me.”

“Sure,” he says, nodding his head and pouting his lips, making you laugh and roll your eyes.

“Well, it should be a quick dinner,” he says, letting go of you. “I’m already half full.”

“See? That's what I meant with the- the tongue thing.”

He hums, taking one last look at you before walking over to Soori, her mouth open as she focuses on her show. “Don’t hate me, please,” he says, as he picks her up from the couch and turns the TV off. She cries and you laugh a little at the way he apologizes to her over and over again.

“Aw, Soo Soo,” you coo at her, and when she sees you, she throws herself into your arms, hiding between your neck as soft whines leave her mouth in expert crocodile tears.

Jungkook chuckles at the scene before him, but in a matter of seconds the image hits him like a ton of bricks. The way you hold her, beautiful as ever as you fix the skirt of her blue dress, fingers brushing through her hair, careful not to ruin the pigtails and bows you’d carefully perfected as you got her ready.

It’s picture perfect, he thinks. A sight he could get used to.

“Welcome back to La Mélodie, Mr Jeon,” a sweet voice trapped in a 6 foot, long legged, blonde haired body greets you at the entrance. Her voice is so sweet, in fact, that you see where the soft spot he was talking about comes from.

“Hi, Lily,” he says. “Thank you for getting us in such short notice.”

Lily.

“It’s my pleasure, Jungkook.”

Jungkook?

She smiles at Soori, who looks at her with a blank stare before she’s nuzzling her face on her dad’s chest. She then smiles at you and it takes everything in you to return the gesture so politely. Inside, you’re rolling your eyes and probably pulling a face as you imitate the way she says Jungkook emphasis on the J.

“This way,” she says, walking towards the center of the restaurant as she guides you to your table. You don’t miss the way she swings her hips as she walks, turning around ever so swiftly as she lets her long, blonde hair fall over her shoulder.

You feel insane. No, really. Jealousy is such an odd feeling. A foreign one, too. You’d never been a jealous person before – to be quite honest, it wasn’t because you were overly confident or uninterested. It was simply because you didn’t notice. You didn’t notice if someone was a “threat” or had bad intentions. Or perhaps deep down, you never truly cared. Oftentimes, it was Lucy that had to alert you on these things, pointing out how it was right there, under your nose! But you failed to see it every time. Not anymore, though. It’s clear as day and it stands right in front of you wearing very dark red lipstick.

You can feel Lily’s eyes on you as Jungkook opens the chair for you, and she disguises her vitriol with a smile as you sit down. He puts Soori in her high chair and finally sits down himself. He smiles at her, thanking her again and she winks at him. Yes, winks. Your mouth drops, quite literally. Her action is so bold it’s almost admirable in your eyes. You wonder if you could ever be such a go-getter, even if it made you vicious.

He shifts uncomfortably on his seat, looking up at you and not missing the shock that laces your face. He wonders if he should say something, but before he can come up with anything of substance, the waiter is by the table.

“Mr. Jeon,” he bows his head politely, “and Miss…”

You stare at him in confusion, opting for giving him your name.

“___.”

“Miss ___,” he says, and you smile. You don’t see this, but Jungkook smiles in endearment, hand in a fist over his mouth as he covers his chuckle with a cough.

As the waiter recites the magic behind their seasonal menu, the main ingredients they’re using this month, and today’s specialties, Jungkook looks around him. He recognizes a couple of faces and doesn’t miss the way their eyes take in the scene, dancing from him to you, and then Soori, in confusion. It suddenly dawns on him that you don’t quite look like the nanny tonight. Not that he owes any of these people an explanation, or that he cares about what they think, or what they’ll say. He’s very much past that, and has never lingered too much on it, anyway. But the more their faces turn from shock to plain confusion, the more he realizes that it’s only been a couple of months – three, to be exact – since Ira left. He wishes he didn’t, but he understands the shocked expressions. He understands why they must be thinking what they must be thinking.

His eyes land on you, fixating on the way you gently nod as you smile to the waiter, listening to him intently. The sight of you alone makes him think, to hell with what they think. The waiter says he’ll give you a minute to look over the menu, and Jungkook orders a bottle of his favorite white wine. He’d go for red on nights like these, but he knows you prefer light, sweet flavors and so he caters to you, without you even knowing.

“Are you happy,” you ask, a smile on your face as your eyes meet his.

“Very much.”

“You know, I know I said it yesterday, before our little… altercation,” he smiles, remembering the acts that took place in his kitchen. “But it’s all quite unreal to me. And I truly am in awe of… you.”

“I’m in awe of you.” There’s no hesitation in his words.

You shy. “Stop.”

“Why?”

“This night is about you. To celebrate you.”

“Exactly,” he says, “so let me do as I please.”

“Okay,” is all you say, because his soft demeanor and flattery are going straight to your head, looking past your heart that still breaks.

“On that topic,” he begins, crossing his hands over the table, “I want to head to our beach house this weekend.”

What is it with rich people and beach houses? Do they all have one?

“That sounds nice… you can rest and relax. Recover from the week and all.”

“Yeah. I want everyone to come,” he refers to his friends. “Jin and Seulgi already confirmed.”

“That sounds wonderful, Kook.” You’re kind of grateful he’s going to be away this weekend, so you don’t have to make up excuses to avoid him and you can bed rot in peace.

“Yeah. I’m excited. I wanna go sailing and we can grill every night,” he says.

“Hm,” you nod, smiling. You think of all the TV shows you’ve been wanting to start, pondering over the list to pick a winner.

“We leave Saturday morning.”

“Great!” You think of pizza and brownie fudge Ben & Jerry's.

“And don’t worry, we’re not taking the plane.”

You laugh. And then you get it.

“Huh?”

He’s equally as confused. “What?”

“The plane?”

“Yeah. You were kinda scared the last time. Plus, it’s only two hours by car.”

“I’m going?”

“Uh- yeah? I mean- I know book club is on summer break for the next three weeks so I thought- but if you’re busy or something,” he doesn’t know what to say anymore so he just lets his last words linger.

“Oh,” I mean, you are his nanny. Isn’t it expected for you to go to these things? Just like you did the last time. He’s about to say something else, but you interrupt him, “sure.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah!”

He smiles as he nods at you, but it’s an uncertain smile. Like he doesn’t quite know what just happened. Soori calls you guys’ attention when she slams her plushie against the table, giggling as she plays, letting her imagination take over. Jungkook runs his hand over her head.

“I’m excited to spend time with her. I’ve missed her this week.”

“She missed you, too. It’s gonna be good for the two of you to spend time together.”

“I’m excited to spend time with-”

“Would you like to taste the wine, Mr Jeon?”

With you, is what Jungkook was going to say, before the waiter interrupted. Not that he’s to blame. If anything, Jungkook is.

“Yes, thank you.”

The wine is good. Excellent, even. Like nothing you’ve tasted before. It’s sweet and fruity, but very light. You’re very much used to cheap liqueur and even cheaper wine, so getting to jump to the other side and try the other extremes is nice for a change. The whole night pans out like that – pleasant and delicious. The food, the wine, the dessert. You talk, swoon over Soori. At one point you ask something that makes Jungkook dive into a more elaborate explanation of what his job consists of. You let him speak, mostly because you’re interested, partly because you’re too exhausted to say anything of substance yourself.

Lily brings over the bill, and you can hear the clinking of her heels from a mile away. She smiles as she walks over to the table, even before Jungkook acknowledges her. She’s ready to pounce.

“How was everything?”

“Delicious as always, please do congratulate the chef for me.”

“I’m sure he’d love to hear it from you. Don’t you wanna stop by the kitchen before you head out?”

Gasp. She is so bold. God, does she fear nothing?

Jungkook laughs, awkwardly, as he signs the check. “I’m afraid we have to get going, this little one’s past bedtime.”

“Aw,” she says, and it’s not directed at Soori, no. It’s disappointment that’s so evident in her voice. “But it was so fun the last time.”

Last time, you almost say. Quite frankly, for a second you think the words have left you, because both their eyes are on you. Lily’s are laced with twisted pride, and Jungkook’s are apologetic.

“Thank you, again, Lily,” is all he says.

“My pleasure, Jungkook.” She bats her eyelashes at him, a saccharine smile she throws his way before she’s turning around and making her grand exit.

You stare at Jungkook, watching as he reaches for his glass of water, taking a big sip, gulping loudly.

“What happened the last time that was so fun?”

“Nothing,” he says, bringing the glass back to the table a little sternly. “I know the chef. He’s helped me recruit a couple of chefs for The West End. That’s all.”

“Ah,” is all you say.

“I don’t know what that was about. She wasn’t even- I mean, she was there, but it was mostly him and I speaking. She’s his niece.”

“I see.”

“Baby,” he says, nearly whines.

“It’s okay. I’m sorry, I’m just tired. I’m probably just irritable because of that,” you mask your jealousy with a chuckle.

Jungkook reaches across the table, wrapping his hand around yours. You wince a little, looking around you, feeling slightly exposed.

“Hey,” he says. “Look at me.”

“Yes.”

He laughs at your sudden nervousness. “Stay with me tonight?”

“But Mrs Chae-”

“I gave her the day off. I’m going late into the office tomorrow. We can sleep in a little bit. I want you to stay. Please?”

Your heart begs you to at least think about it for a second. A split second, even! But the efforts are unsuccessful, and you don’t hesitate when you say,

“Okay.”

Jungkook’s shower is your favorite place in the world.

Well, perhaps that’s a bit dramatic.

Or perhaps it’s completely understandable, all things considered. You remember when there was a time you didn’t believe in shower sex. Not because you didn’t think it was real, but because you couldn’t believe people actually enjoyed it. There was nothing to enjoy about it, in your humble opinion. And humble it was, because these four walls can testify about the way you became a woman of faith the moment you experienced what you liked to call premium shower sex.

You let the water cascade from your head down your body, relaxing your muscles as the massage jets hit just where you need them the most. Jungkook was putting Soori to bed and he’d suggested you take a shower in the meantime. And so here you were, contemplating. You think of staying here, waiting until he’s back, letting him get in the shower with you. Letting him do whatever he wants to you, really. That’s the truth of it all.

But you don’t. You don’t because you try to be reasonable. Sex won’t solve this, if last night is to tell. And boy, was it loud and clear. So you get out, enjoying a couple extra minutes running his warm, fluffy towels over your body, brushing your hair, doing your skincare with his fancy products and spending way too much time, yet again, picking a shirt to sleep in. You opt for a simple Calvin Klein tee, pleased at the softness.

When he makes his way to the room, you’re already in bed, Sense and Sensibility in hand as you read. He stops, taking you in before you can see him. He thanks the universe for making his dreams from last weekend come true. You smile at him, eyes following his steps as he comes to your side of the bed, planting a kiss on your forehead.

“I’m gonna shower, won’t be too long.”

“Enjoy,” you say.

He turns around, about to make his way to the bathroom but before he can get far enough he’s turning back, walking towards you again. You look up, stars on your eyes is what Jungkook can swear he sees.

“Thank you for staying. And for coming to dinner. That,” he pauses and you hear the hint of nervousness that takes on his tone of voice, “was good. I mean, that meant a lot to me, is what I’m trying to say.”

“Of course, Kook.”

He kisses you. It’s short and sweet, leaves you craving more as your lips feel his absence right away.

The minute he’s out of sight, your heart sends a question shooting straight at your brain. It’s aggressive and angry.

What are you doing?

Its simplicity holds deception. The simple answer would keep the whole thing contextual: he wants you to be here, he asked you to be here. You celebrated an important night with him and now you’re in his bed because isn’t that what you do? The last words get your heart going, beating faster with complexity. It says, no! It is not what you do. Or perhaps it’s what you do with your boyfriend, which he is not, by the way. Your own cruel words make you wince. Your heart opts for a softer approach, simply reminding you that you’re not doing yourself any favors. That playing house with the person that has made you question pretty much everything about both life and love in the past couple of weeks isn’t the best way to make sound decisions. That with every kiss you’re reminded of why you love him, and with every kiss he reminds you that perhaps to him, it’s just a kiss. A kiss that holds affection, sure. But not a kiss that holds love. Your incessant thinking makes you wonder if what you ask for isn’t too much. You wonder if it makes sense to want him to love you the way you did him. You couldn't ask that of him, at the end of the day. You couldn’t ask that of anyone.

Sense and Sensibility is long forgotten, your brain too loud to make sense of the words you read. You turn to your side, cozying up against the pillows. You try to close your eyes but every time you do the images that play in your head are somewhat crazier than your thoughts. You toss and turn and simply opt for keeping a soft gaze towards the ceiling, focusing on your breath and trying to remember what Lucy’s meditation tapes you can sometimes hear in the mornings say.

“You okay,” you hear Jungkook ask before you can see him. He chuckles at the sight of you.

He walks closer to the bed, one towel wrapped very low around his hips as he runs another through his hair, drying it. Little droplets falling over his body, making it glisten. You let yourself stare at him because the sight alone leaves you slightly speechless. You’re not proud of it, but another part of your body pitches in on your heart’s debate and says, this is why.

“Yeah,” you finally muster the words, “can’t sleep that’s all.”

”Mm, yeah. That happens to me when I’m really tired sometimes. Bit weird, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, makes no sense.”

“It’s okay, just try to relax, baby.” His knee hits the mattress, hair towel discarded to the side as he makes his way to you.

“Y-yeah, I’m trying,” your eyes follow his every move as he gets closer.

His hands rest at your knees before he says, “I like this on you, by the way,” eyes zeroing in on his shirt.

“It’s comfy,” you say, eyes closing at the feel of his fingers gently roaming down your legs.

“Keep it, baby.”

“No, I like it on you more.”

He laughs. “It’s okay, I have plenty.”

He opens your legs, inching closer before he lets himself gently fall on top of you. Your fingers thread through his wet hair, pushing it back.

“I’m having the best night ever,” he says, playful eyes on yours as you both laugh.

“You must be easy to please,” you say.

“Depends on who’s doing the pleasing,” he watches the way your gaze flutters before your eyes close at the anticipation of his lips on yours. And when he finally kisses you, you both sigh, falling into it. It’s slow, just allowing your lips to lazily move against one another’s. You run your fingers through his hair, nails softly running down his scalp and it makes him groan in satisfaction. You push your body further down into the mattress, letting your legs fall open as Jungkook settles better between them. A moan escapes your lips as the motion has him pressing his cock into you.

“Kook, I’m really tired, I don’t think I’ll handle it.”

He shakes his head, kissing you again. He doesn’t pull away as he says, “no. I want to make you feel good, baby. You don’t have to do anything.” He looks at you, eyes closing in pleasure when he pushes his hips against yours. “Please?”

You nod, a little caught in the feeling. “Okay.”

“You’re so beautiful, you know that?”

“Jungkook,” you say, turning your face away from him in a timidness that he finds so endearing.

“Don’t ask me to stop saying it because I won’t,” he says, fingers finding your chin and turning your face to him again. He pecks your lips before he says, “fucking gorgeous.” You laugh, and he likes the sound of it and so he feathers kisses all over your face, down your neck where he knows it tickles, rejoicing on the way you giggle as you try to push him away. It’s hard for Jungkook to choose between the sweet sound of your laughter, or the way you moan when the last kiss he places against your neck ends with a tiny suckle.

“Can I taste you, baby?” His voice is deep, right on your ear, sending goosebumps down your spine.

“Please,” and he loves the airiness the word has on your mouth.

His kisses on your neck grow deeper, enticed by your moans and the way you pull at his hair, soft and hard. His mouth begins to travel down, letting his hands roam all over your body at a leisurely pace. He loves it when he can go slow, take his time, make pit stops on the parts of your body he loves the most. He loves your lips, and so he kisses them, snaking a hand down your shirt and cupping at your tits, drawing circles on your nipple with his thumb, making you squirm. You feel him smirk against your lips, always getting a little cocky at how well he can pull at your strings until pleasure is the only thing you can think of.

He pushes the soft material of your shirt away, lips kissing down your chest until they’re closing around your nipple. A throaty moan leaves you and you circle your hips, making Jungkook hiss as his cock jumps from the contact alone. But he doesn’t want to focus on his immediate pleasure, no. He wants tonight to be about you. He wants to take his time with you – make you feel so good your body has no choice but to sleep the overwhelm off.

His tongue plays with your nipple, in an ever so slow pace that has your eyes rolling to the back of your head. He lets his free hand touch all over your body, down your waist, squeezing your hips, nails scraping slightly at your thigh. He looks up at you, eyes meeting your hazy ones as he sucks on your nipple, biting gently when your fingers get tangled in his dark locks. He moves his hand closer to where you need him the most, tentative little touches that have you clenching in mere anticipation.

“No teasing,” you warn.

“No fun,” he says, pouting before he’s biting your nipple again.

But Jungkook just wants to make you feel good. He wants to give you what you want, he wants to hear you and feel you, and the thought of his tongue on your heat has him nearly salivating. And so he complies. You sigh when he presses his middle and ring finger against your clothed clit, tiny little circles that have you leaking in no time. He feels it, fingers dampening against the cotton of your underwear as his mouth kisses down your torso, leaving a wet trail on your tummy that makes you feel electric the moment he pulls away. His fingers hook inside the side of your panties, his touch soft. Too soft.

“Take them off,” you say, no edge to your voice.

He does just that, pulling away for a second to roll the tiny fabric off your legs before he’s back on his tummy, between your legs, one of his own bent slightly as he gets comfortable. You find it so lewd – the way he enjoys this. The way he enjoys it when his eyes zero in on your cunt, glistening for him.

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” and his eyes never leave, following his index finger as it parts your slit. A low, controlled moan leaves his lips when he sees how wet you make his finger, how you leak for him. The tip touches at your clit, making you gasp before you’re letting out a moan. “And so sensitive, baby.”

You’re a bit delirious but you manage to look at him as you nod, your voice so shaky when you say, “I need you- it’s been a while since I’ve had your mouth.”

His thumb circles your clit. “You’ll get my mouth, baby. But I just wanna see you for a little longer, ‘kay?” You nod again. “Prettiest fucking pussy.”

You’re about to shy away from his words but he wastes no time, pushing a finger inside of you, making you groan as your head hits the pillow. He tests the water, feels how tight you get around him, thumb still working your clit as he pushes a second one in. He pays attention to your moans, the jerk of your hips, his eyes never leaving you as you roll your lips between your teeth, arm hovering over your head before you’re hiding underneath it.

“Look at me, ___.”

You do, eyes threatening to close as he picks up his pace, hitting that spot inside of you continuously, expertly matching your breath with each push and pull.

“Fuck, I’m so close already,” you whine, closing your eyes for a second.

“Want my tongue, baby?”

“Fuck, Jungkook, please,” you plead, gasping when his index and middle finger press on your g-spot, tiny little movements against it. “Please.”

“I will, baby. God, how can I not?” His lips close around your clit, making you moan in sweet satisfaction. “You ask so nicely- fuck, ___, you taste so good, baby.”

Jungkook is growing delirious, too, struggling to keep his own pleasure at bay, hips rutting against the mattress as he places little rhythmic suckles against your clit. You look down at him, eyes meeting his and he smiles. It’s dirty, bordering on obscene, but you love it. You love how much he loves making you feel good.

“Like that, Kook,” you whisper, “shit, don’t stop.”

His tongue parts your folds, teasing your hole before he’s lapping at your pussy, spitting on it before his ministrations are back on your clit, sucking, licking, circling. You’re so wet, and so close, you can’t quite make out his actions. All you know is the white, warm feeling that takes over your body, making you a little lightheaded. His fingers push inside of you once again, making you clench around them, mouth parting in shock and pleasure.

Jungkook hums against your pussy, eyes closing at the feel of you. “You’re so close, baby. Want me to make you cum?”

And the question alone could do it for you – in fact, you have to take a second to concentrate on not letting go. There’s something so fucking divine about him knowing exactly where he’s got you at. You nod, one airy, “please,” and that’s all he needs to finish you off. His fingers don’t go faster, but they go harder. His tongue focuses on your clit, silky flesh lapping determinedly at your nub, sucking on it when your legs begin to shake.

“Oh, fuck- Jungkook,” you cum with his name on your tongue, letting out a little cry when you feel him moan against your pussy at the sound of his name. It’s too much, the way your muscles contract and then release, but you can’t get enough of it. “Don’t stop, Kook, please.”

He doesn’t. He milks you with his fingers, feeling the way you leak down his wrists, making a mess out of his mouth as you pull at his hair, nails digging on his scalp. You cum on his tongue, and you come down on it, too, letting yourself fall into him so quickly that the over-sensitivity has you pushing his head away with shaky hands.

“Oh my fucking God.” You drop your head to the pillow behind you, hands covering your eyes as you try to regain your breath. Jungkook just stares at you, head resting on your inner thigh, smiling and drunk on you. He feathers one single kiss on the soft skin of your leg, and your body jumps a little, making him let out a boyish chuckle that makes your heart beat steadfast. You laugh, too.

You let a couple of minutes linger on, the two of you sharing the same pillow, just laying in bed. You take a while to come back to your body and when you finally do, the exhaustion takes over.

“Come here,” you tell him, and he obliges, body flushed on top of yours once again. Your hand travels down, feeling how hard he is. He hisses, his own hand closing around yours before he’s shaking his head. “Why? You’re so hard.”

“You’re tired. I just wanted to make you feel good. I’m okay, baby. More than okay, actually.”

“But,” you say, confusion lacing your words.

“Tomorrow. You need rest. I think I’ve succeeded at making you sleepy,” he laughs.

“Fuck, you really did.”

He lays back next to you, a sigh passing his lips before his head turns, meeting your eyes.

“You know, you were right,” he says.

“What about?”

His smirk gives him away before his words can.

“I do have quite a tongue on me.”

★taglist★

@roro-in-utopia @yiyi4657 @littlrmills14-blog @namjooningelsewhere@drownforryou @iwanttohitmyself @finelinememories @yukiehyukie@shatzkrinslinzki @bts-fic-recs-mess @kokoandkookie @subtlepjiminie@hobipost @kookiesbreaky @di0rgguk @bloopkook @babyrosieareroses@kookiecrumb @casspirit0705 @eclectictacozinewobbler @tickledpink55@rjsmochii @dimcorner @miniiimee @vintageroses10 @amyniu @tessxblxckthorn@emotionaltrashcansblog @fangirl125reader @laurynne5 @thickgrinch@dianaxnyc @ruinsofangels @berryonasummerevening @taeslarityy@hisunshiine @preciouschiminie @ruclements @galaxyflab @jalexad@missseoulite @bangtannoonalvg @kootonins @lustremyg @kissme-ornot@92thk @everythingaboutfangirling @cakecobain @callmejimmeo @simp4tae@landl7xoxo @jungjoonie @sanfransolomitatm @khadeeeeej @mar-lo-pap @nanjeonlangakook

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nyarumie · 3 months ago

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hii dropping by to say i love your works sm !! since you mentioned abt narumi requests, id like to make one :3

how aboutt narumi randomly feeling hungry during his game night and when he goes to find food he sees reader! so they end up making/getting food tgt all domestic and fluffy (if you’re cooking bro is definitely not thinking abt wifing u up uhhhh), feel free to create any setting you’d like for the scenario hihi

(also this might or might not be an excuse for me to ask u to become moots aha)

Food Impact! (Oneshot)

narumi gen x reader — pure fluff, more fluff, and even more fluff! sweet and gentle narumi, established relationship, the kitchen staff are eavesdropping on them, spoiler alert: they made a mess in the kitchen.

Author's Note: Readers, please search up the food name references I included here to get the entire picture of what they're trying to make <3

Author's Reply: hi, rye! I think we're already mutuals (at least, it's what my notif bar says? i know im already following u tho! i love your works too <3 it inspired me to write and post too, to be honest) thank you for this request i totally had fun writing it and helped me with my writer's block (⁠｡⁠･⁠ω⁠･⁠｡⁠)⁠ﾉ id love to interact more too!

Cross-posted on ao3. Ask box is open, and masterlist can be found on my pinned. Have fun reading, everyone!

The sight that greeted Hasegawa has an unusual factor.

Stacked yamazon boxes, check.

Littered cans and bottles, check.

Neglected blankets and pillows, check.

An unbothered Captain on his futon playing his BS5, gone.

Or maybe he's just being dramatic. Narumi is actually there, albeit not stuck in front of his huge ass TV for once. Rather, he's shockingly seated behind his office table, adorning a serious expression while giving his laptop an intense focus.

His Vice Captain is rendered speechless. Was he seeing things? The First Division’s Captain… is actually doing work?

“Hasegawa. What is it? I’m busy here.” he said, hands busy on his laptop.

Oh, he's been staring at him for the past 5 minutes, mouth agape. Regaining his composure, he stated his business. “Your presence is requested for an interview. I believe I sent you the notice first thing in the morning.” But is it right to be disturbing him when he’s finally working—a rarer than once in a blue moon occasion?

“Requested, not required. Don't care, won't care.”

“...Then I’ll ask her to do it in your stead.”

“Don't. She's helping me with my work.”

Sighing, Hasegawa turned around to leave, surprisingly not picking Narumi up like a helpless cat to make him attend the interview.

Once Narumi heard the door click, the corner of his lips turned up, unable to stop the smug, triumphant grin from forming. “Hah, too easy! I’m busy working alright, my ass is practically burning from sitting here all day!”

In truth, the laptop Narumi specifically requested when he was promoted as Captain is a gaming laptop. He had somehow convinced the higher ups that its specifications are far greater than anything most officers can handle and is fitting for his position as Captain. Not that they know what it really is, of course.

He has been playing Jenshin Ympact the moment his office shift started. You had practically begged him yesterday to grind for you, saying that you’ll handle his paperworks worth a week’s job as long as he gets your desired character and weapon. “Why won’t she just top-up on this game? We have all the money to get every single character. What a bummer.”

Not that he understands why you’re willing to shoulder his paperworks over playing a game. Nothing’s enjoyable about paperworks at all! But you complained that your back was hurting from grinding, and who was he to reject such a good offer? That means a grumpy Hasegawa would appear less on his doorstep.

Complaints can be heard from him as he speedruns a side quest, mumbling about how the NPCs are too helpless. “What the… why do most NPCs ask for food here? What kind of adventurer doesn’t bring any food with them?”

Karma seemed to have hit him, his stomach growling too loud for his liking.

Ignoring it, he continued, still insulting every single unimportant character here and there. “Boo. Shut up. Don't like you. Go away. I hope you get eaten by a slime—”

And an even angrier sound came from his stomach.

“Fine! I’ll grab something to eat.”

What he meant by grab something to eat, is grab you to get the both of you something to eat. He refuses to eat anything without you, finding it more enjoyable doing mundane things with you around. His stomach has been empty since morning, wanting to get an early start on his grind.

He sulkily made his way towards your own room, knowing that you've been just as cooped up as him in your respective offices.

Not bothering to knock, he calmly opened the door, instantly finding you still working on his paperworks, desk situated across your door.

His familiar presence caught your attention, eyes lighting up in joy at the sight of him. “Gen! What brings you here? Do you need anything?”

Without a word, he gently grabbed your wrist and pulled you up, making you drop your pen in the process.

Confused, you tried calling him again. “Gen?”

“Mhm… heard you. Just come with me.”

“Alright.” You smiled, his uncharacteristically calm demeanor endearing you. He was often like this with you, as if your very existence is his source of peace.

A comfortable silence lingered as you let him lead you to his your destination. Halfway there, you finally recognized the route to the cafeteria.

‘Oh, he's just hungry.’ you thought. ‘But wouldn't he prefer instant meals or deliveries instead of going all the way here?’

But instead of going straight to the self-service counter, he turned and made his way to the kitchen instead. Wait, are you even allowed there? Sure, he's the Captain, but he's not a cook!

He finally let go of your wrist, unceremoniously opening the large door, earning shocked stares from the kitchen staff and making them pause their job.

You pulled at his sleeve. “Gen—”

“Is there an available cooking station here?” he asked.

The staff looked at each other, obviously baffled. “Uhm, Captain Narumi, sir; there is. But it's at the far end of the Kitchen…” a cook said, pointing towards the station.

“Good. We’ll be using it undisturbed.”

Gen continued making his way forward, with you holding the cuff of his sleeve to ease your nerves. You offered an apologetic look at every person you made eye contact with as you both made your way through. He still hasn't said anything as to why you're here of all places, confusing you further.

He came to an abrupt stop once you reached ‘your’ station. It's time to get to the bottom of this.

“Gen, did you say we'll be using this cooking station? Are we actually cooking?”

He faced you, his arms crossing. Suddenly, he looked a bit bashful. “Yeah. That's what I said.”

Raising your brow, you tried prying more information from him. “And what exactly are we gonna cook?”

“Ahem. So I saw this food while playing Jenshin Ympact…” He pulled out his phone, showing you a screenshot of the food.

Invigorating Kitty Meal.

Giggles threatened to spill from your lips. No wonder he wants to make it yourselves.

He swiped the photo to another screenshot. “And there's this other one. You love mushrooms, I thought you'd want something simple to eat.” Milky Mushroom Crisp Tower. How cute, he was also thinking of you!

“They look pretty fun and easy to make. However… Both of us don't know how to cook, Gen.” you frowned.

“But you just said it looks easy to make. There's two of us, that should be good enough, yeah?” he pouted.

Fondly, you sighed. He’s being too adorable right now, you just can't say no to him. “Alright, we’ll try. If it turns out good, you’ll marry me, won't you?” you joked.

He brightened up at this, pushing his hair back, determined to make his kitty meal. “Consider it done.”

After thoroughly examining the screenshots, you personally approached a few people stationed in the kitchen, asking them which ingredients would best suit your planned meal. With a couple of pieces of advice here and there, you and Gen started to put the plan in motion.

He passes you a rather large bowl full of rice, busying yourself with shaping it to form a cat, filling its inside with mayo tuna. He tasked himself with (trying) to cook the steak while watching the eggs boil, which you doubted at first, earning you a complain from him (‘Hey! You're on the same boat as I am; can't cook, can't question!’)

Cooking the steak is quite the task, so you decided to handle your mushroom toast yourself.

You poorly sliced up the mushroom and tossed it in a small pot filled with a cup of thick cream and easily melted cheese. Not hard at all!

You leave it be and checked on Gen, who you find struggling with not burning the steak. “Need help?”

“I’m fine! It's just that this is totally not beginner friendly, that's all!”

“...Gen, the eggs are overcooked.” A series of curses left his mouth as he hurriedly took them off the boiling water, and his nose scrunched up on the smell of something burning.

“Your mushroom! The heat is turned all the way up!” Now it was your turn to panic.

After a couple of errors from both your ends, it was safe to say that you've finally reached the final task of your newly found skill.

You were carefully carving some seaweed, cheese, and ham as the final touches to his rice kitty’s facial features. Gen was standing behind you, arms wrapped around your waist as he watched your art, humming to himself. He seemed pleased despite the mess you both made.

“Let's cook again someday.” he said.

You snort, “Speaking too soon? You won't say that if this turns out bad.”

“Nahh. Not if I’ll marry you.”

You laugh, taking it as a joke. You feel him perch his head on your shoulder, face turning into a frown. “I wasn't joking! Here, have this.”

He took your hand, putting a seaweed ring on your finger. You giggled again, your heart can't take him sometimes. “I didn't mean to laugh at you. You're being too adorable today! Let's eat these right here before they spoil.”

He looked too sad to see the kitty get devoured, sulking despite how good it surprisingly tasted. And yours wasn't too bad either, glad that you were able to salvage whatever was left from the burnt mushroom sauce.

“ ‘M definitely gonna marry you someday.” he suddenly said.

Your head whipped towards him so fast, only to find him munching on his meal, face serious. “Food so good it got you saying that again?”

He shook his head. “Don't you want me as your husband?” he whined.

You felt your face flush, suddenly aware that he meant what he said. “Go put on a real ring on me first. Then I'll take you as my husband.” you teased.

Looking thoughtful, he hummed. “I can wait just fine. It arrives tomorrow.”

Wait. What?

“What arrives… tomorrow?”

“The ring.” he said, matter-of-factly.

You faced him fully, mouth wide open. He’s dropping this information way too casually!

Sensing your stare, he also turned to look at you, food still in hand. “What? If you're worried about the size, I got it covered.”

“You're crazy. When did you purchase it?”

“Hmm… a couple of weeks ago. When I heard you scolding Hasegawa for disturbing me, saying I needed rest for carrying No. 1’s eyes on a daily basis. No one dares to scold him like that! So I decided to promote you as my wife!” he proudly said.

You tug at the front of his clothes, pulling him closer. “I want to kiss you right now.”

He set his food down, placing his hands on your waist. His eyes seemed to sparkle with mirth. “Then, as the Captain of the First Division, I grant you special permission to kiss me.”

And with that, you closed the distance between you, feeling the both of you smile in your kiss.

Bonus:

Unbeknownst to the both of you, the kitchen staff were eavesdropping the entire time. Who would’ve thought that this is how good their Captain's romantic life is?

You two were so absorbed in your own little bubble, failing to notice the suppressed squeal from a staff that was tasked to spy on you when you kissed. Seems like you forgot there were other people around you.

The staff went back to the others, meeting their expectant gazes. Wordlessly, they gestured their ring finger and acted out a kiss. It was comical, but the message was well-received nonetheless. It became an unspoken rule to keep what happened that night amongst themselves, wanting to respect your and the Captain's joyous moment.

#kaiju no. 8 #axia writes for fun #kn8 x reader #kn8 writing #gen narumi #kaiju number 8 #narumi gen x reader #narumi fluff #narumi x reader #narumi gen #narumi gen fluff

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poppy-metal · 5 months ago

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[ literally u dont have to write a single thought for this if u want i js want someone to match my freak BUT ]

stepdaddy art and dbf patrick trailing you to a club one night? its phase one in patrick teaching art his precious baby girl breaks a few rules - which art already knows, but he didn't realise exactly how until they follow you out. you, shining bright and brilliant amongst all your friends, radiant as the sun, alight with fire. its fire, too, like how patrick was, that sharp knack for commanding a room whenever you walk into it, demanding to be given what you want. but in a softer way than patrick did. sweeter, a more girlish light. the way art is: charming, bright, sunny. kind. you, in your little skirt - when a motorcycle blows by it flies up, and they catch a quick glimpse of the cutest little lacy panties - and your tight top, miles of legs and chest and skin. bare.

you, giggling and clearly tipsy, if not straight up drunk, flirting your way past the bouncer with your friends. they follow you in, slide the bouncer a few crisp twenties for his cooperation, and watch. watch you dancing, laughing, all hips and arms and shiny hair as you twirl with your friends, and fuck, its mildly reminiscent of another girl they liked a lifetime ago, watching another girl on the dance floor, waiting for the right moment to jump in and play for her number. hypnotic.

and they watch you. flirting your way into a round of shots for you and your friends. dancing right in the middle of the throng of people. arts pleased to see you turn down any guy that approaches you - "its girls night," you giggle - and patrick has to actually fight back a cheer when your heel stomps on a particularly pushy guy's foot. you're here to have fun, to dance. but you're drunk, and needy, and the guy you do end up making out with has patricks roguish grin and arts soft blond curls, but your hazy mind barely even registers this connection, and all patrick and art see is some douchebag with his hands on their girl. the executive decision is made not to interfere, if only because art knows you'd hate him for it. so they fume until you him away to go back to your friends, and they fume the whole ride home, and they fune when you text saying you're sleeping over with alyssa - who the fuck is alyssa?! - to study, and they fume until they fuck, arts face buried in your sugary-vanilla pillows, patrick wrapping a pair of your panties around arts dick, taking advantage of the fact that art cant really see, but he can hear, hears it when patrick asks him if it "feels good, huh? you want to cum all over her panties? yeah? go on, donaldson, you always were a perv, yeah, cum all over your baby girl's panties-" and art does, whining, sobbing, begging. they both pretend they're cumming in you, even though neither will admit it - art into your panties, patrick into arts ass.

you dont notice, when you return the next morning, that someone changed your sheets. you certainly don't notice the missing panties. art hates himself for it - vows it will never happen again. it will.

-kit (slowly going insane over this au)

I'm going to kill myself, truly im at my limit - @gamesetart

in my head - you and art dont know about eachother yet - its just kink talk, at the moment. he's not sure how either of you'd react - you're so possessive and needy of him. jealous so easily - and art. he's still pretty sure art will beat him bloody when he finds out patricks touched you at all - regardless of what he allows to be talked about in bed.

its just show art that you're grown up - to get art to stop seeing you as someone who needs protecting - look at her, art, she knows how to handle herself, she knows how to use her body and dance and work the men around her - she's not helpless and defenseless anymore.

art sees you differently after that night. he already had a hard time looking you in the eye after that night when he'd imagined you - he just realizes you' dont need him to shield you from anything. not anymore. and he..... doesn't like it. can hardly stomach it - who is he, if he can't be needed? its what hes revolved his life around - around you - around you needing him. you needed him when you were younger and your own mother didn't want you but he did and he was there for you and he took you in and you needed him growing up and you needed him for so many things you needed him to watch scary movies with you because they made you jump you needed him to tie your hair for you for school you needed him to buy you pads and tampons when you ran out you needed him to cook you food and be a safe place to come home to you needed him to teach you how to drive you needed him to pick you up from your friends house you needed him you needed him you needed him you needed him you needed him. you needed him.

and now you dont.

you're all grown up and you dont need him.

does he even know you anymore? will he get to know this new person you're becoming? does he want to not be needed by you?

no, he doesn't want that.

and its all he can think about on the drive home and later when patrick fucks him in your bed and he doesn't even fight it this time - just moans like a fucking whore when patrick wraps your panties around his cock and closes his eyes and thinks about you needing him. in a different way. in a new way.

you needed a dad for so long - you made him be that for you - he can be more - he can be anything - as long as you keep needing him - as long as you dont stop -

"god, dont stop -" its a plea - one patrick grants, wrapping the cotton more tightly around his cock, fitting his balls through the opening and rubbing the fabric into his shaft - fuck - "I'm gonna cum -"

"yeah -" patrick groans. he's fucking art so hard - like he's trying to punch art through your bed, the headboard is rattling against the wall, your stuffed animals falling from the bed. "fill her fuckin panties art - she's been so bad, huh? past her curfew and she's flauntin herself to older men - keeping her old man waiting up worryin' about her - while she's out being a slut - "

if it was any other situation art would knock his teeth out for talking about you that way. at the moment he can't, hes too amped up, hips bucking wildly, he reaches down to grip his own dick - shove it down so his head it rubbing into the patch of your panties where your cunt would rest - rubbing rubbing rubbing as his toes fucking curl in your sheets - "oh fuck -" he grunts, tenses -

when he cums - it shudders through his whole body. hole clenching, strangling patricks dick as his balls empty into your panties- stretching the fabric out lewdly around his cock -

"good boy - if she's gonna be a whore under your roof the least she can do is milk your cock - "

art whines. pulses out more cum weakly. thinks hes going to hell and that hes glad you'll never find out about this. you'll never know. you'll leave and you wont need him anymore and he just needs this to cope - that's all.

#ask #frens <3 #WELL!!#dbf!patrick #stepdad!art #tw stepcest #tw: grooming #just in case #stepcest cw

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adoregojo · 9 months ago

Text

valentines - sae itoshi x reader

yayyyyy I finished it, im free :3 im so freaking sleepy rn warnings: angst, very happy ending the chap before: one

2017

it's been years since you last saw sae.

those 3 years without the elder itoshi felt unfilled, missing it familiar spark. visiting the sea doesn't feel the same without the reddish-brown boy alongside with you. his endless grumbles about how luck keeps running the opposite direction and it's always loss in the in of his road were now just a remains echoing inside your head.

it's not that his face wasn't rememberable anymore, in fact, his face was glued on every bug screen around japan. under the name of the japan prodigy himself. however his face was blurry and those big-screens always do him unjustifiably. pictures were good, but sae grew. oh how you wished you could have grew together again.

you missed his actual face, when he would reveal his rare unseen smile to you. even when he didn't smile, there was something there, your grandma always said that his eyes would go soft under the mention of your name. when actual emotions were still swirling in his heartland. now you looking at his face, his slime teal eyes were so..bleary.. sae looked like he lost all his colours.

you wished you could embrace him, just like you used to when you two were kids after he flunked his math test and the first thing he does is let you hug him and play with his hair, sae told you that he would never let someone else do that to him yet the word shameless was unfound beside you.

but now you were helpless. thinking about the great distance itself between you two was crushing.

you kept writing, and sae promised to write back. at least he did at first, within the next months his letters and calls were fading, draining each day, they were getting awfully dry to the point you felt he was just saying anything to make shut you down. but in the end he stopped completely. no matter how much you texted or called they were never answered.

yet you kept on writing, even when he didn't reply. you sent him birthday cards on his, remained him of yours as well. however he never responded. you write and send, write and send, write and send damn letters nonstop. at some stage you didn't know where to send them anymore. they were never replied to, never seen nor read.

soon your texts became green. and it felt like a door was slammed on your face.

you felt desperate, like a dog waiting for it owner returned. and you could feel the pity glimpses in everyone's faces, in school, neighbourhood, sometimes even your own grandma, except that she held more sympathy with it.

perhaps, the younger itoshi was the only one who didn't change much. just like you, sae stopped his communication with him as well. but he handled it way better than you did, the letters 'big brother will come back, he's just busy' fell out rin's mouth every time he senses you unhidden soreness.

you should believe in what he says, it's literally his brother. his own flesh and blood, his family. yet you didn't ease up under his words, if anything it worried you even more. you felt it, the wave screaming back at you that something bad will happen, something that'll change everything forever.

and you knew you were right when opened the door revealing rin with tears running down his reddened cheeks.

2018

rin never told you what happened that tragic snowy night.

all you could remember was him shedding tears like there was no tomorrow, they were silent yet so painful that you felt sorry for the boy. you always took rin as an unbending person, he was like sae but much more chill and dare you say more friendly?

you warped a blanket around him when he slept in the guest room, you never pressured him. never pushed him, thinking about it now, you should probably have. because you woke up to that bed soothed back all clean and empty the next morning.

and it felt like rin last strike of humanity was left dead under your roof.

rin changed, and everything changed with him. maybe you didn't, perhaps you grew doleful, dejected. waiting was hard, pouring down your soul. it felt like the sky was telling you that you were waiting for nothing, but to be truthful, not only the sky was implying that.

you saw how the younger itoshi would look at you when he saw you writing letters to sae. he said nothing and stood silent, yet his eyes were pleading with you to stop, to give up on his brother before he curses you for good. however, you were already cursed by sae a long time ago.

even when he left for that project, deep inside. he wanted to say something, to speak up. the words were on the tip of his tongue yet he kept on opening his mouth and closing it like a lost fish. then rin left without a word, leaving you to face the truth by yourself.

you found it strange when every time you were present in the tv room, the first thing your grandmother dose is close the tv or change the channel. it was weird, you never remembered her being a big fan of national animals shows. she always liked the news which was what she kept avoiding for a while for some reason. her protection wouldn't last forever.

a secret kept swimming around you, just walking around in the hallways was enough for everyone to either laugh or look at you with such pity. even the teachers? what was going on, what kind of secret could it be to impair you this much?

you wished to stay curious, to stay lost in your little circle of agony but not to witness the man that planted dead hopes within you was now cutting your roots of holden on faith.

you saw a picture of sae kissing another girl, and you felt your soul getting toured up by him.

like the world itself was laughing at you naiveness, how stupid you were. you felt used, the wasted years you spent waiting on someone who didn't even care felt like a pure burning betrayal. you got that light message, sae was basically telling you to get off his back, you were no longer needed.

you meant nothing that anyone could possibly overshadow you. you got tossed aside, a dusty memory that was never worth holding in the first place.

you stopped writing letters after that day.

2021

"nice having you back in japan, genius boy."

aiku laughed, but the man ahead of him didn't even spare a smile at him. instead he found the glass of drink in front of him more interested. the black head let out a sigh, he guessed that sae isn't exactly a man of change, he needs to stop letting his hopes up for nothing.

it's an understatement to say that aiku was surprised that the elder itoshi would even acknowledge his invitation for a night out at what he called a fancy bar. hell, sae probably didn't even like wine in the first place. yet he was here, looking around with his boredom eyes that never opened fully.

"soo, you finally opened your heart for your dear home?." aiku asked, taking a sip of his own drink. through the transparent glass, he could see the slim teal eyes peeking at him.

"what's up with that interview question? don't say you invited me for this." sae spat out, the place was awfully packed despite it being the middle of the night. and he would lie if he said he wanted to spend another second here.

"haha, once a stiff always a stiff. thought i would get a thank you for getting you out of your forlorn shell for awhile. i mean, look at those chicks, you sure you don't wanna catch yourself a little fun? heard you were left out on valentines eve."

the elder itoshi frown a brow, "you think you're my wingman or some shit? don't get too high of yourself just 'cause i went out here with you." scoffing, the reddish head crossed his arms.

before aiku could get a chance to reply, a sultry voice called. "you boys would like a refill?" the suffocating smell of her perfume was pocking sae's nose, which made him hard grimace in disgust. while on the other hand, the shaggy head threw a sly smile at him for some reason, he better not do anything stupid.

"not me, hun. but my friend over there would definitely like to. right, sae?" he should've knew better. he knew this fucker was trying to set him up with some, it didn't even need a rethink when his glass wasn't even half way empty.

sae could feel a vine running through his head when the high heels sound was lifted to his side. his personal space was getting tackled when the woman bend over with her breath that reeked of unhidden smoke and alcohol was tickling his ear.

"Oh? you must be a new one. we got specials for those." she breath out, her hand running down sae's arm. he had to stop himself from getting defensive at her sharp nails stabbing him through the fabric of his clothes. "you can request anything you please, even these lewd things going on your head."

her flirting was on death ears, he didn't even take a glimpse at her. nudging that man was like trying to punch a wall. sae told himself to ignore and she'll get the message and leave him alone already.

"c'mon now, whatever little sweetheart you clinging onto doesn't have to know."

and that hits a nerve, "anything you say? than I request you to step the fuck back you good for nothing tart creature." as soon as these harsh words come out, a loud gasp was heard. and sae couldn't find it in himself to stop the next words of coming out. "I came here for someone, not some harlot woman wiggling over me. go throw yourself on some pimp maybe you'll find a purpose inside their pants or something."

soon, it turns into a crying mess. and sae remains stiff. the only reaction he could give was sipping on his drink, he saw aiku trying to stop the women from running before stroking the bridge of his nose is disbelief.

"what the hell man.. you could've just told her to leave you alone."

"I don't like pushy people."

he hears a scoff, then aiku swaying after the other woman. sae could feel the eyes of strangers staring him down, not that he cares, not even about that woman who he sent crying, she can collect what's left from her dignity, if there was any in the first place. he was too busy rethinking why did he speak those words.

and why did was your face the first thing to pop up his mind when he said that.

it's been years, and he couldn't believe that he agreed to aiku's request, yet he'll never admit that he wanted any reason to step here again. any reason to see you again, he never thought he still had it in his heart to miss you. to be eager for you, he found himself bubbling with excitement like a little kid again.

sae can't figure why are you suddenly so heavy on his mind, was it the years of pushing you to the corner of his mind was paying off? even the tiniest things were enough to makeshift you in a way. it felt like he couldn't escape you, you were in everything and everyone. in the side planted flowers, in the little kids laughs, in the bright colours of the sun.

he wondered if you still think of him, if you still hold on him after seven years of being absent in every way possible. you turned eighteen without him, you probably had much more friends by now, maybe even changed your haircut, he remembers you rambling about how your grandma wouldn't let you change the same haircut for years now. sae himself doesn't notice the smile forming on his lips.

"wash that sappy face off, doesn't suit you." a firm voice stated, he didn't even have to turn around and see when he knew this tone like the back of his hand. lo and behold, his younger brother standing there.

"rin."

"shitty brother."

rin walked up to the table, his hands deep in his pockets. standing in such a filthy place made shift disgustingly. not even trying to hide his displeasure staring at both his brother and whoever walks by like a walking foul trash bags. or maybe that's just his natural face.

he didn't take the obvious abandon seat, instead he stood like he just needed a minute before taking his leave. "didn't expect you to be back, though you called this place unworthy of your presence." said rin, his eyes doesn't held them loathing anymore. but still a hint of unbearableness was there, that'll take some time to wash away.

"i have my reasons." he simply replied, he was never releasing his feelings.

"plus, what the hell are you doing here? and don't lie to me when you look like seconds away from throwing up." sae question,

"you need to get a assertive manager next time." rin shrugged, he wasn't planning on lying. the guy almost shat himself at the sight of rin alone. maybe he should work in his face expression.

"well, I know you aren't here for a heartwarming family reunion. so spit it out already." rude as ever, but the younger itoshi learned to not raise his hopes too much when it came to his brother.

rin doesn't reply to that, instead he reaches for his black coat pocket. lifting out some designed letter, leaned it carefully over the table for him to take. so sae does, playing around with the object, he sided eye his brother.

"a wedding invitation." rin answered before he could question.

"yours?" he asked in disbelief, that was not a face of a man getting married.

his younger brother started at him like he grew another head, "no?" he almost gagged, narrowing his eyes.

"then i have no interest in wasting my time."

"just read it you damn slacker." rin demand, he did not come all the way here for his older brother to act like a spoiled brat. he swore he's gonna shove that letter down his throat if don't stop yapping.

finally sae let out a dramatic sigh before opening the letter, whatever name it was, it better be worth it. and part of him wished he never opened it.

because his eyes uncontrollably traveled to your name, not even that he read the start nor the beginning. he wished it was a mistake, maybe someone else's name and it was all pure coincidence. his eyelids flicker open, he read it once, twice, and the world felt like it stopped.

"..it's in two days by the way.. and stop looking at the letter like that, your gonna burn it." rin words went from ear to ear. but sae managed to catch something in the lines 'in two days'

"two days?.. why am i getting an invitation now?" words came out mindlessly, he wanted to ask more, who, how and when. his mind was on track. sae never wished for something to be a sick joke like now.

"are you serious? be grateful you were even in the list." nevertheless, rin didn't like his question. is that really what he asked? not even about you? however, his brother colourless face spoke more.

sae didn't reply, he looked at the letter in his hand like it was his worst enemy. rin wished his brother wasn't a damn block headed maybe then he'll get his fingers on what's running inside his mind. so rin takes his leave, letting his brother handle the news by himself.

"woah, man. that girl just wouldn't stop crying. I'm starting to believe you're truly heartless." aiku let out breathlessly, but he was met of a new face of sae, it was the first time he say any other expression on his face. especially something..this emotional..

"dude, you okay? looks like you've seen a ghost."

maybe even someone as cold as sae could carry a fragile heart.

2021 February 18

it felt like the universe was laughing at him.

fate was truly the cruelest, out of any other day. it had to day, the day that was meant for you and him, just fir another guy to snatch his place like a piece of candy. he wished it was him, he wished he didn't come here in the first place. yet he was, surrounded with unfamiliar faces chit chatting around.

sae regrets stepping in here, he wanted to leave. to runaway. he doesn't want to face it, to face you walking down with another man that is not him. but he wanted to see you so bad, why did this feel like this is his only chance to see you ever again?

he felt aimless, and the people talking wasn't helping him either.

"did you hear? they're gonna rent a house on a beach!"

"oh my, they're so lucky. wished mine would have the same mindset."

fucking kill him.

"you actually came? thought you'd leave like the spineless coward you are." the voice of rin was merciless. and most of all brutally honest.

"shut up. I don't wanna hear it." sae waved him off, he didn't wanna hear it. especially his little brother berating him senselessly. deep down, he knew he deserved it. he was the one that stepped over your heart when he promised to take care of it. maybe he is a coward.

after he followed after rin, which took to long for his liking, he had to complain. "fuck you taking me to?" he spat out.

"be patient, don't you wanna talk to them?"

that somehow shuts down any chance of any other objection, it felt like ages before they got to the meant room. and for some reason, sae doesn't enter yet, he doesn't find the guts to.

"why did you even invite me to this?"

"me? invite you? you wish." rin jeered, his brother was definitely not in the right mindset to think such thing. "they invited you, if anything i thought it was better not to."

"I didn't even think you'd come, looks like you still got something in that frigid heart of yours. but it's already too late to come over your fears."

a ghost smile form on sae's face, at his own stupidity, at rin's truthful manner. at himself,

"i know that."

he closed the door behind, and slowly walked into the room. his steps were heavy they kept on echoing through the walls. announcing to the world what he was doing. it was a miracle he didn't fumble his feet on the way, and more of a miracle when he didn't faint at how beautifully you shone.

you quickly stood up, the white dress mimicking your movements. he was right, you did change your hairstyle after all, and oh, how you good you made it look.

"sae? you actually came.." you exclaimed. examining him from head to toe, he did change, more like he grew. he wasn't the same height as you anymore, his bangs were long gone. and he refused to meet your eyes. looking at everything but your gaze.

"yeah." he pushed out his lips.

it was strange, seeing the one he promised to marry get married to another one. his first crush, first crush, his first heartbreak, the first heart he shattered. all the memories of childhood came like a rush wave of air, and what lingered was your face at the airport, the day you said goodbye. the day he heard you sniffing behind him, yet he didn't turn.

perhaps because he knew out everyone, he would've gave up everything just to not see you a tear run down your face. or it would be him crying with and be a couple of crying mess. yes you got him warped your finger like that.

sae only knew a world with you, and he knew his soul stayed with you the day he left.

"it's been a while,"

"seven years, it's been seven years." the male corrected

"i know." you giggle bitterly. he knew you knew. you both knew but none spoke or mentioned anything.

"how have you been?" he had now idea of what to say or ask of you, that was your fucking weeding of course you're happy. damn, even his younger self wasn't that clueless.

"I'm good. you?"

I'm missing you terribly.

"good."

"that's good.." you shifted awkwardly, like you wanted to hide from him. was he making you that uncomfortable?

"can i?" stretching out his arms slightly, he was ready for you reject it, to punch him, to scream at him. but you nodded instead.

you lean right on his chest, his hesitate arm on the small of your back. when was the last he hugged someone? it was much easier when you two were kids. it sure felt warm, your cologne taking over his senses. he just didn't feel like fits the puzzle anymore. and it fucking hurt.

it didn't last long sadly, taking yourself out of his embrace. he doesn't want to let go, if he let go, you'll disappear. despite that he looked into your eyes, and suddenly he doesn't feel only half alive. you still got him warped around your finger like that.

"i need to go, it was nice seeing you again, sae."

he could only nodded, every step he took away from you felt like the world was draining it colors again, the universe was punishing him, because seeing you not sparing a glance back was truly painful.

the evening felt timeless, it skips to where he sat looking heedlessly at the ground. he didn't want to meant anyone's face nor attention. he bet that his was gloomy enough to scare off anyone who walks by.

one's begs to differ.

"well, well. if that ain't a face I haven't seen in a long time." an elderly woman said, the same old sly smile still glued to her face. she takes a seat beside sae, fearlessly nudging him to look at her.

"it's you."

"it's me, that old granny you used to call a hag." your grandma said.

"That was one time, and you spanked me for it."

"i sure did, always been a badass." she laughed, and sae found the invisible beam draw in it way to her face.

"look at you, you grew to a fine young man." he hissed when she pinched his cheek, almost as if she meant for it to hurt. he had rub the spot with a grunt.

"despite that, it's sad to say you disappointed me, itoshi sae." she spoke in a straightforward manner. almost like she was scolding him. and when say nothing she continues.

"I would've given you another spank but my grandchild would be mad, they still cares for you. always been." the lady sighed, "they never gave up on you, four years is a real challenge. every day they kept on writing to you, did you perhaps read them."

"every singer night."

"but you didn't respond to a single one?"

he doesn't replay to that.

"don't prove me wrong again. that girl you put your mouth on, why?"

sae's hand travel down his neck, trying to find the right answer. as if there was one. "i wanted them to give up on me. i just felt pushing them and everyone away was the right thing."

"so you became a selfish bastard that kills everything he touches? i knew you were dumb but not that dumb." she shook her head, he had concerned her swinging her cane over his head.

"it doesn't matter, it was already done." lies sliding down his throat. and he knew even a strong face wasn't enough to hide the truth. she could see him bare.

"maybe if you weren't that stupid, you'd have managed to keep the only person that could handle you. but I'm never wrong so i guess you two did end up together in another lifetime."

"but i wanted them in this one."

"too bad, too late." it felt like a sucker punch, he wished for her to actually beat him with that cane at least it'd be less hurtful and heavy. again the urge to leave was strong. and it was getting stronger when that man stood there, and when you walked he couldn't take his eyes off, he couldn't even blink. you never looked so breathtaking. and there he knew that his place didn't get stolen, but earned by someone else. someone better than him. someone that could make you happy and wouldn't make you hold on to a forsaken promise.

yesterday it was him proposing to you with his dead grandparents ring, today it was another one warping it around your finger. the image will hunt him to his death.

the him that promised, the him who kisses you injures, the him who saw you in sunset above the sea. was still there, that version was still swirling within him somehow. and it only shon with your light only. the light that will never be his anymore.

to sae you'll forever be his everlasting one in the stars.

"goodbye." he hopped he chose you in another life.

lmao this is trash mb yall

#blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #blue lock #sae itoshi x you #itoshi sae x you #sae x reader #sae x you #itoshi sae x reader

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strwbmei · 7 months ago

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i love bottom ei BUT UGH TOP EI??

i think im mentally ill for this but oh gods please hear me out💪💪

i want ei to strangle me while electro surges through her fingers finger she pounds the ever living fuck out of me to breed me bonus if she has a dick percing to zap your cervix everytime you try saying something snarky despite the shock at your neck and the hand squeezing your neck enough to keep you silent

“how’s that? hm? Baby you always have to be so cruel dont you? I dont mean this my love.” she’s reassuring you as you feel her other hand squeeze your hip. its tight enough to give you another bruise to look back at in happiness

who knew the same woman you ride and give head to could be so domaineering when she had the chance? sweet and shy yet so fucking good at making you sob and smile at the same time

“Love you’re twitching stop moving or i cant make you m-.. feel good.” she pants out shes a bit like a puppy when she wants to be though you felt a snarky remark bubbling up but you couldnt speak this time you knew you had to be silent otherwise it’ll be worser for the only source of light in the room to grow bigger and hurt your neck more with its shock

The piercing being used as a conductor for electricity is actually so genius.

Ei really doesn't want to hurt her precious darling, but what else is she supposed to do when you treat her as if you're above her? When you take all that she gives you for granted?

Ei is a goddess. Your goddess, for that matter. She doesn't ask that you bow your head to her or grovel at her feet, but why must you always disrespect her so? Has she not been good to you; given you everything you wished for as soon as you said the word?

No, she has been lenient. Far too lenient. Perhaps Ei's (admittedly) special treatment towards you has led you to think that the two of you were equal when that couldn't be farther from the truth.

Everything that you want to do, you can only do because she allows you. As long as you are in Inazuma—in her territory—this will always be the case.

Did you really think that Ei, a trained warrior and an Archon, couldn't break free of those flimsy ropes you had always liked to tie around her wrists? Not for a second did you have her cornered and helpless. Ei thought you understood that, but it seems she was mistaken.

It's so easy for her to pick you up, bend you over, and fuck you until you're apologizing and begging for her to slow down. Even easier for her to make you cum until your brain is turned into mush from the overstimulation.

And what better way to drill that into your head than to actually do it to you?

"My love... Stay still, hm? You know I don't wish to hurt you." You squirmed around her pierced cock, the metal acting as a conductor for the gentle yet tantalizing jolts of electricity that traveled up your spine. The piercing at the tip of her dick was just a joke you started at first, but you were pleasantly surprised the first time you saw it.

"Bullshi-" You half shriek in pain and half moan in pleasure as a sudden surge of electricity hits you. "Have you not earned your lesson?" Ei frowns. She doesn't want to see you in pain. Moreover, she doesn't want to enjoy seeing you in pain.

Still, if this is the only way, Ei has no other choice.

#strwb drabbles #smut #x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact smut #raiden ei #raiden ei x reader #raiden ei smut

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theninth09 · 3 months ago

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theo and liam both constantly trying to prove themselves and expecting punishment.

theos inferiority complex. "because im not a real werewolf?" obviously asked with disdain and insecurity. his voice trembling when he says "i-im not a failure" when the dread doctors classify him as such. his goal of becoming an alpha not because he actually wants power, but because he wants to be stop feeling helpless. he wants to be in control, he wants to stop having to fear that he'll get killed in case he IS a failure. and in s6 he keeps trying to prove himself, to the pack liam this time. liam keeps lashing out (bc hes in denial and telling himself he shouldnt trust or like theo) and theo barely ever reacts, just keeps softly looking at him and never rises to the bait. he wants to be useful, he wants to belong. he wants to be close to liam.

ive already briefly talked about theos relationship with pain in a different post, but just to reiterate: his non-stop provoking words so that people (malia, stiles, liam) punch him, laughing when his bones break, saying "maybe it only responds to pain" about the captured ghostrider and when he said "physical pain becomes manageable." yeah. he definitely got tortured by the dread doctors as punishment. and he probably thinks he deserved it.

liams fear of getting punished/thinking he deserves to be punished. the way he asks "are you mad at me?" with the smallest voice and the saddest look on his face. as if hes used to getting harsh reactions (liams bio dad that we dont know anything about?? yeah.) and in this instance, it wasnt even his fault. his IED wasnt the reason he got into a fight with someone, he didnt even hurt anyone accidentally. liam is the one who got hurt and still, he asks his dad if hes mad, expecting punishment. when hes down in the well and hurts himself punching the wall, he thinks back to his dad telling him that when kids get angry, they either hurt others or themselves. how many times has liam hurt himself during or after an outburst? punishing himself for being the way that he is, for hurting others when he doesnt want to.

liam taking the beating from gabe & nolan is another example of this. thinking hes at fault, that he deserved to get beaten as punishment for bretts and loris death.

in s5b when scott tells him that he hasnt actually apologized yet and liam explains that he feels like he has to do more. that he has to save his life in order to repay him for the damage. and thats probably how most of liams life has been. constantly doing favors, offering help and working himself to the bone trying to atone for what he thinks hes done wrong. the idea of verbally apologizing bringing him shame and guilt, so he just tries to make it better with his actions. even though its not his fault, even though he doesnt have control over it. he just wants to be good. he wants to belong.

#idk where i was going with this #its just #the parallels #this is so messy #throws this at you #theo raeken #liam dunbar #thiam #teen wolf #my ramblings

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4pfsukuna · 3 months ago

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could you write smth for long curly haired reader who isn't doing the best mentally so she isn't ty taking care of here hair and geto who has a crush on her offered to help her with it? i just know he'd be soft and gentle.hed even look up how to take care of curly hair to help make his girls (he wishes 😔) hair look the best it ever has (so she can ask him to keep doing her hair for her) i need him down bad 🙏🙏

omfg girl. GIRLLLLLL. This may have just healed my writers block🥹

Suguru Geto was the neighborhood heart-throb with his dark volumtious hair, midnight black eyes that were so dark they nearly looked purple his tall muscular frame (his thighs were drool worthy when he man spread) and his hands that could probably… no definitely palm your whole face. Between that warm honey coated laugh and the smooth calm tone he always heals in his voice he had every girl and woman in a 10 foot radius always swooning over him. Not that he noticed his eyes were always on you and when you werent around his mind was thinking if you ate today, how your day was, what new hobby you picked up what conditioner you used? The last one was a bit unhinged.

Last week he made a complete fool of himself when he seen you in the shared hall of your apartment and finally gathered up the courage to ask you on a date but it started off so well.

“Hello sweetheart, how was work?” He grins down at you waiting for your brown eyes to meet his and he feels his heart stutter when you do with a soft smile.

“Hey Geto, it was alright, glad im off though im starving” you answer” as you fumble with your house keys pushing some of your long curls out of your face with a single finger.

He can feel his insides exploding, this was it you just put the ball in his court for a lay up or whatever silly basketball analogy Satoru used when he told him about you, now was his chance.

“Oh? Theres a new family owned restauraunt that just opened nothing to fancy. You should go” he blurts out faster than he has time to think about it and his tongue instantly feels heavy in his mouth. His jaw feels hinged and hes clenching his mouth and fist so tight he doesnt know what will break first his teeth or the skin on his palms from how bad his nails are digging in.

“Yeah, i think i will. Have a good night” you wave and hes so in his own head he doesnt realize the way the smile doesnt reach your eyes from either dissapointment of him not asking to go together or the long day of work is something he spends the next few days pondering about once he gets in his apartment. The only thing hes glad about is that neither Shoko or Satoru was there to embarass him endlessly. He always had a smooth slightly arrogant demeanor but when it came to you words fealt heavy in his mouth, his hands got clammy and his eyes could not leave you what so ever.

The next time he sees you hes shocked. Its around midnight after a full day of listening to anxiety by meg thee stallion on repeat loud enough for him to hear it in his living room that he begins to get worried. Its when he sees you in a dark blue hoodie blanket going to take out your trash that he stops you.

“Hey sweetheart, i can take your trash for you. You shouldnt be taking it down this late anyway” he reaches for the bag not expecting you to pull away.

“N-nah its cool, i got it” you voice cracks and he finally looks at your eyes seeing them puffy and red which makes him fall into defense mode.

“Who did it? Ill kill them” and that wasnt exactly what he wanted to say but fuck it its not like he didnt mean it and it earns a chuckle from you. Ok, finally he was doing something right.

“Everything and everyone” you pout and he feels his heart soften at the helpless look of defeat on your face. If only you knew you had a man that would actually burn the whole world down in front of you.

“I dont have enough matches for the whole world but if you give me enough time i can run to the store to buy more and burn the it all down for you” he rubs his chin earning a smile this time.

“Maybe not the whole world” you start with a slight giggle and his heart starts doing that weird thing again “It's just… my anxiety has been in overdrive this week and my job has rumors about letting some people go and i think its me since i've been talking about being home sick and my hair stylist canceled my appointment which ruined my week because not only does she not know when she’ll return but my hair products are nothing more but empty containers that won't get shipped here until next month. NEXT MONTH Geto, i cant just put anything in my hair and nobody here can help me” you pout feeling your bottom lip tremble as you fight back tears not wanting to cry infront of your neighbor you needed to hold onto some shred of dignity— hes already watching you in this snuggie with kuromi socks on.

Your face is quickly found in his chest as he pulled you in for a hug and you nearly start sobbing, its not your fault when people hugged you when you were sad it only made you cry more.

“And then i forgot to go grocery shopping” you finally break the hot tears running down you face you wait for him to push you off instead he just holds you tighter resting his chin on your head and rubbing your back. His embrace kinda felt nice and this was the only thing that felt right in your whole horrible week you were going to bask in it.

“I can help you with your hair” Geto blurts and you wipe your eyes to make sure you heard him correctly.

“You what?” Your raspy voice questions looking up at the man whos tall enough to nearly reach the hallway ceiling.

“I can help you with your hair” he repeats, using a thumb to wipe some of the tears from under your eyes, his palm cupping your cheek to keep you in place. Completely unbothered by the fact that any of your other neighbors could walk out and see you two like this he’s just happy to have you this close.

“No shade but what do you know about kinky curly hair, plus im not trying to let anyone experiment on my hair let alone a man” you cross your arms but you don’t pull away from his embrace which he selfishly enjoys.

“You think this long healthy hair comes from using a body wash and shampoo 2 in 1? I actually take pride in my 8 step hair routine” he tells you reaching up to pull his hair from its bun letting his long obsidian locs cascade down over his broad shoulders the coconut scent hitting your nose.

You stare at him for a second debating how wrong this could go letting this man play in your head. I mean worse case scenario it gets tangled and you big chop after your hair crisis(amongst the several youve had throughout life) youve always said ‘fuck it im going to just go bald’ and maybe you finally spoke it into existance.

You see the hopefulness in his eyes and know this man is fully convinced he can do your hair and will spend all night convincing you if he has to and you're not sure if it's his resilience or your lack of sleep that has you finally crack and let out a long sigh.

“I promise i can do it just give me a second to toss this trash, grab my products and i'll be over in a second” he promises with an excited grin grabbing the trash from your hand and taking off down the hall.

“And thats not all… they were roommates” you gossip with him as he runs the detangler through your hair after parting it into four sections. He was on the last section before having your lean back to begin the wash process and maybe he did know a thing or two about hair. Gently guiding your head back to the running water you hear the CLICK of the bottle opening before you feel the cold substance on your scalp.

Your eyes instantly close when his fingers begin massaging your scalp his nails feeling so heavenly against your roots.

“Oh my God Sugur your fingers feel so good” you nearly moan and he has to stop for a second, pretending to look for your detangler comb to not lose his composure. he cant even help his pants getting slightly tighter, he was honestly so down bad for you.

He rinses repeats detangles conditions detangles again with very little instruction from you and honestly it was because you had began dozing off quite a few times enjoying the physical touch of another human while he is the physical embodiment of happy to be here.

He notices the song you had on repeat is also off instead choosing Sade to listen to which was alot more calmer. Its when he begins humming along that your brows scrunch and he panics assuming that hes hurting you.

“What you know about Sade?” Youre soft voice pokes making him chuckle and damn does he have a nice laugh.

“Im a man of culture” he pokes your temple and you jokingly pretend to attempt to bite his finger your goofyness slipping out easily around him. “Besides im washing your hair obviously im very cultured” he adds in and you cant argue there.

An hour later you find yourself rambling about all your favorite things favorite music, hobbies and embarassing stories of you from the fourth grade which he counters of embarassing stories of him in high school with him and his best friend satoru who he promises to introduce you to.

“And i'll section the braids up here into smaller parts So if you want a middle part or side part you have options” he tells you absentmindedly and you crain your head back to make direct eye contact but he gently grabs the side of your neck using his thumb to push your head forward.

“You'll get neck pain if you do that sweetheart” he commands softly in a way that makes your spine tingle and you rest your head against his large thigh.

“Have you done this before?” You ask your mind instantly floating to another woman and while there weren't too many girls that looked like you in japan with a hair texture like yours he was entirely too good to never have practiced this once.

“Yes” he answers honestly and you force yourself to push down the thoughts that make your stomach drop. “Though they usually fall asleep by the time i get to conditioning their hair”

And it's like you can hear the record scratch and the peaceful bliss you're in ends abruptly.

“So it's nice having someone to talk to up until the end” he tells you before finishing a braid and you feel it fall mid back before he shuffles around. There's a bright light gleaming on the side of your face and you turn slightly to see a picture of twin girls, one with dark hair and one with light brown, almost blonde hair.

“They're so cute, how old are they?” you ask taking the phone in your hands to get a better look as he swipes showing different clips from what looks like a trip to the aquarium.

“11, thats mimiko and nanako usually they are here with me but they are with uncle Satoru for the summer making his pockets hurt as they say and spending time with their little cousin megumi” he tells you before he stops sliding landing on a picture of him satoru the twins and a dark spikey haired little boy that looks angry at Satoru.

“He looks like he absolutely hates satoru” you giggle resting your head back on his thigh which earns a laugh from him.

“Despises him, actually thinks Satoru is so annoying but he loves him… deep deep deep down inside his tiny little body since he adopted him. We knew his dad… real piece of shit actually” Suguru admits using a bit more force on your hair, its not painful but you could tell he hated Megumi's dad more than Megumi hated Satoru.

“You must've had them really young” you pry slightly which he snorts at before using the comb to detangle a section of your hair and adding in more product.

“No, I met them at an old job. They were in a bad environment and I took them in. I just couldn’t watch them go through that horrible system it's not a place for innocent little girls” he tells you his touch becoming so featherlite you almost forget he's doing your hair

“Yeah it makes sense you are such a girl dad. Definitely dilf material” you ramble going back to look at the pictures zooming in on how happy the girls look.

His eyes widen and breath gets caught in his throat he nearly has to stop what he's doing to focus on you again.

“Dilf? At Least take me out to dinner first”he jokes trying to calm his heart before you lean your head back once more making eye contact with him.

“How about the new family owned restaurant you told me about? You could even bring the girls I’d love to meet them” you smile at him watching the blush build on his face.

“R-really?” He stutters, not expecting you to ask him out on a date… shit was it a date?

“Yeah they seem to play an important role in your life and I need to make a good impression on them as well… I mean unless I’ve been taking your staring, heated looks and your kind offer to wash my hair the wrong way?” You tease with a sly smirk and he can feel the flush running through his entire body.

“Oh so you've just been letting me embarrass myself in front of you… this entire time” he exaggerates, holding a hand over his mouth in faux shock.

“I thought it was cute” you shrug watching his reactions before he tilts your head back forward using neck cramps as an excuse.

“Hey suguru?” You yawn, leaning your head back against his thigh and it was just the perfect head rest as his fingers began massaging through your scalp again.

“Yes sweetheart?” He asks slowing down for a second and you begin enjoying, a bit too much, the way he sounds calling you that.

“Thank you for washing my hair and styling it” you smile closing your eyes and shoulders dropping slightly and he grins at the signs of you falling asleep. He's seen it too often with the twins but he had to admit he may have been enjoying this more than you, acts of service being his love language that much was clear.

“Anything for you”

#geto x black reader #geto x black y/n #geto x reader #geto suguru #suguru x you #suguru x y/n #suguru x reader #jjk x black!reader #jjk suguru #getou suguru x reader #jujutsu kaisen suguru #jjk fluff #jjk drabbles #jjk domestic

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stxrvel · 10 months ago

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i don't wanna live forever (1)

summary: reader couldn't stop having deaths in her life ever since the Supersoldier serum came into her life. no matter how hard she tried to stay sane, it seemed that life didn't want to give her a break. until, one afternoon, she learned that one of her old friends was alive… (you guys know im bad at summaries, but please give this one a chance)

pairing: bucky barnes x f!reader

words: +4.5k

warnings: angst, major character deaths, canon deaths¿?, bad words, english is not my first language! thoughts of revenge and death, this is like an introductory chapter, so the buckyxreader interaction is low, but it'll get better, i promise!

note: holy fuck guys. i just spent like five hours writing and editing this and i fucking love it. its been a while since ive been this proud of a work, im actually scare the emotion will disappear, but i really want to rejoice in this one. i wanted to write something a little different from my usuals, maybe a little common in the fanfiction world, but i started and i simply could not stop (or maybe just approach this bucky fic from another perspective). so this is the first part and i'll try with all my heart to keep this going because it was fucking insane, at least for me. i really hope you all like this as much as i do! feel free to leave any comment! thanks always for all the support!! see you next time <3

part 2 ; part 3 ; part 4

When you went into the Supersoldier serum project with Steve, you thought you were going to change the world. Of course, at that time when technology was relatively new any invention felt like the beginning of a new era. That's how it was all sold to you and it was how you expected everything to turn out… Until you realized that it was all really a waste of effort and time.

They were just propaganda for war. Not to stop it, to promote it. To motivate it.

You tried, on several occasions, not to think too much about it. You tried to stay out of it as Steve sometimes asked you to, even though even he didn't want to, as Bucky asked you to when you lay on his shoulder to cry in the little time you had free between trips. It was a great burden of guilt and helplessness.

Until you and Steve, with the almost imposed help of Peggy and Howard, rescued Bucky from the evil hands of Johann Schmidt and his nefarious organization, HYDRA, that, unbeknownst to you, would haunt you for a long time to come. It was only after that, after spending several sleepless days on edge thinking about what might be happening to Bucky, that you and Steve were finally able to go out and contribute something. Destroy HYDRA and the Red Skull's plans.

Of course, you realized that not everything could go right when, the one mission you couldn't attend, Bucky didn't return. And then Steve didn't come back either.

“Do you think this will ever end?” you had asked Bucky the day before his last mission.

“Of course it will,” he had answered without hesitation, moonlight illuminating his clear eyes, squeezing your hand as if it was all he wanted to do for the rest of his life. “And after that we can begin to live as it should be.”

But there was no after that, because you never recovered from losing him. From losing them both.

“Are you okay?” Peggy approached, in the middle of the afternoon when the sun was streaming through the stained glass windows of the church, illuminating the spot where Steve's empty coffin had been, because they didn't even find his body. They didn't even think there was any of it left.

You barely moved your head to acknowledge her presence, moving the prayer slip they had recited throughout the mass between your hands. Your eyes were crystallized, in tears that no longer even made the effort to flow, because you had already spent too many days and nights crying. Peggy had been on the other side of the church, sitting next to Howard while the priest spoke, because you had refused to be near them in those moments. You didn't want to be near them.

“As well as one can be,” you slurred, finding that it had been a long time since you'd last used your voice for anything other than cursing and crying disconsolately.

The people had already left, probably an hour or more ago. The empty coffin had already been brought out, all the flower arrangements had been picked up, and the priest was preparing for the evening mass. You knew you had to leave, you knew Peggy and Howard were there waiting for you, but you felt stuck at that moment. You didn't want to leave, you didn't want to get ahead, you didn't want that life if it had to be this cruel.

You heard Peggy's sigh, before she took a seat next to you, a short distance away, averting her gaze to look at Christ on the cross.

You didn't know if you were selfish to be so closed off to your friends at this moments, because they must be grieving as much as you were, but you didn't know how to deal with the future possibilities. Bucky and Steve, great men and soldiers, one even with enhanced abilities, had not been able to make it through the punishment of war. What if Peggy and Howard were the same? What if they too had the cruel fate of dying at the hands of injustice? Could you deal with that? With everyone gone?

Maybe you could open up to them a little more because if not, who else? Turning away from them was not going to ensure their survival in this hate-filled society. Maybe you could protect them, like you couldn't protect Steve and Bucky. Maybe you could make a difference, because you had the chance to.

“You know,” Peggy spoke again, rearranging herself on the bench and crossing her legs, “Steve always knew this was how it would end.”

Her wistful, mournful, fragile voice sent a shiver through your body. Peggy didn't consider herself someone to show herself vulnerable in front of others no matter how close they were, even in those things that hurt her the most, in those things that affected her personally and made her eyes water instantly, she always tended to shut down. And at that moment you didn't dare interrupt her because you knew it would probably be the only time she would talk about Steve in a long time.

“Sometimes we'd talk, between tour trips, and he would tell me that wasn't what he wanted to do, even when he had to convince you otherwise,” her clasped hands would occasionally squeeze between words, blinking rapidly to fight back the tears. “He didn't know if he'd made the right decision.”

You could almost picture him, backstage at the foot of the stairs with that notebook he carried everywhere and wouldn't let go, Peggy at his side nostalgic, as helpless as the others. It reminded you of the times you'd had similar conversations with Bucky, desperate to find a purpose, a way through so much fog.

“The first time I saw him so sure of himself was when he asked us to help them look for Bucky,” she mumbled his name, as if trying not to scare you away by saying it too loudly. “Ever since then it seemed like he'd found that spark…”

“Until Bucky died,” you whispered, the words cutting through the cold and silence, Peggy shifting on the bench contritely.

“He lost something of himself from that day on, it wasn't hard to tell. The next time I heard him so sure after spending days lost, it was on that call from the plane.”

Peggy paused, raising her hand to cover her mouth as her voice faltered. You turned to look at her, wishing you could rip the pain from her soul and leave it in yours. She was trying to contain her emotions, breathing deeply, and in that moment you wondered what life might be like from now on, with the specter of grief following you around, waiting for the next time the dead knocked on your doors, unexpectedly, without allowing you to say goodbye.

“He had told me he wouldn't die in peace until he could get it all over with. And he took it all with him. And I hated him so much for it…” Peggy sobbed, her labored breathing standing out between words. She kept looking straight ahead at the stained glass windows, the expression on her face hard and scowling despite having tears rolling down her cheeks, as if she were trying to blame something for what had happened. Her reproachful eyes fixed on the Christ.

Her wails echoed through the walls of the church, the father on the dais sending them a look of sorrow. He had offered you water, thirty minutes after everyone at Steve's wake had left, when they kept walking, and you stood there.

Another empty casket.

“Ladies,” Howard's voice reached your ears amidst all the physical and emotional numbness. You could barely notice Peggy wiping under her eyes with the pocket square that was surely part of Howard's suit, as she took breaths to get up. “We should go now.”

You heard him walk, his slow, careful steps stopping just behind you. There, on his feet with his chest tight, he rested a hand on your shoulder and gave it a squeeze in support. He knew it was the most you would allow him at a time like this, deciding not to pass up the opportunity to let you know he was there. You sighed, feeling a heaviness take over your body as you stood up.

“Yeah, let's go.”

The next few months passed in a blur. Maybe too fast, maybe too slow, you weren't sure anymore.

Peggy continued to work at the Strategic Science Reserve for a couple of years, calling you from time to time to help her with some jobs. You kept a low profile, practically a fugitive from the state, while trying to live a halfway normal life in Europe. A lot of it thanks to Howard really.

Life had become a rather monotonous routine when you stopped getting so many calls from Peggy and Howard several years later. You knew they were fine, but not being able to return to the country filled you with anguish every day. And trying to lead a normal life became too complicated when you looked in the mirror and it seemed like not a single day had passed since you were in that capsule of Dr. Erskine's with Steve.

Until Peggy called one day asking you to come back. She told you that it was safe, that there would be no state officials waiting for you at the airport, but even if that had been the situation, you wouldn't have hesitated for a second to buy the first plane ticket and fly to see them again. To Howard and Peggy, to melt into an embrace, longing for the lost years.

You had thought that contributing to the fight in World War II had earned you a ticket to at least be recognized in the military, but all you gained was the government with their mad scientists looking for you to try to recreate the Supersoldier serum. Peggy didn't want to risk you and Howard gave you no choice by giving you a plane ticket to Finland with your bags packed.

You wasted many years not being by their side, unable to keep the promise you had made them in your head to be close by to protect them, to watch over their safety.

But when you left the airport there was only Peggy, and maybe that should've told you everything.

Her hair already looked gray, the effects of gravity and time present on her face. You hated to think that you shouldn't have looked any different from the way she saw you last time when she waved you off at that same airport. Her warm gaze was the same, raising her arms with held back tears to encircle you in a big hug. She tried hard not to sob against your shoulder, you felt the choppy movement of her breath against your chest.

She looked so different and the same at the same time.

You walked to her car a moment later, her trying to carry your suitcase and you telling her you were perfectly fine carrying it on your own. Amidst a smile, she walked into the driver's door and you frowned as you saw the empty passenger seat.

“Where's Howard?” you spoke as you sat down, after stowing the huge suitcase in the trunk of the car. The way you moved to buckle up, you didn't notice the way Peggy froze in place, her hands clenching the steering wheel so tightly that her breath hitched from the effort.

“We're going to see him,” was all she said, but she was very good at hiding that something was wrong. Only for a little while.

During the trip, even though you tried to ask things about them, about what they had been doing during this time, you didn't miss the way her shoulders were tense or her eyes very alert. Something bad had happened and Peggy was trying to hide it from you.

When she pulled up in front of a church, you already knew what had happened without her answering a single one of your questions.

Howard had died.

You two had sat next to Howard's son Tony, his spitting image, in complete silence as the prayers went on. At that moment you didn't know what had happened, hoping it had been a quiet and peaceful death, because you didn't know if you would be able to endure another violent death.

Peggy gave you all the details when the mass was over, after the coffin was taken away, and you hadn't felt such fury in so many years. Not since the deaths of Bucky and Steve had that adrenaline rush of anger returned to run through your body as violently as it did at that moment, when Peggy told you that he had been murdered along with his wife. All to steal some prototypes of Dr. Erskine's serum. The damned serums with which everything had started.

This time there was a body in the coffin, but there was also a culprit. Someone to point the finger at and take it out on for years of anguish and pain.

You were at Peggy's house, staying for a few days, when she told you that wasn't all.

Peggy had a suspicion that HYDRA hadn't disappeared when Steve crashed that plane into the ice. Her suspicions generated panic in you, because Bucky and Steve had died for that, now apparently Howard, only for it all to have been for nothing. The feeling of carnage that ran through your whole head made you nauseous, years of helplessness and pain pent up in such a small body had to find its way out somehow.

“It was a man, according to the information I've been able to gather,” Peggy spoke, taking a seat across from you in the dining room of her living room, after pouring you a glass of lemonade. “He didn't die from the crash. He had a concussion. He was hit in the head. His wife died from asphyxiation.”

“Does Tony know?”

“No,” Peggy shook her head quickly, one hand over her heart as if the mere thought caused her physical pain. “It didn't even occur to me to tell him something like that.”

“And he was looking for the serum,” you recalled, a bitter feeling planted in the back of your throat, the memories of the disastrous times during the war coming back into your head like a blinding flash.

“He took them. We don't know who he is or who he works for, but whoever they are, they must have been following us for a long time to know about them.”

“You mean years,” you arched an eyebrow, your fingers touching the cool exterior of the glass seeking some reassurance.

“Possibly. That project isn't recent,” Peggy nodded, drinking her lemonade with a grimace. You stared at the liquid almost finished from her glass, a wrinkle forming between your brows with each passing second and you kept wondering why.

��But what the fuck was going through that asshole's head?” you spat angrily. Rage at already the amount of lives that serum had taken with it and at Howard's recklessness. Rage at the reaper who seemed to be following in their footsteps for some reason, rage at that damn man and whoever his damn boss was.

“It was the only option, Y/N,” Peggy turned her gaze, meeting your eyes with a strange glint.

“What do you mean?” you were almost afraid to ask, your friend's gaze suddenly turning evasive. You watched her run her fingernails over the glass of the tumbler, lost for a moment in thought. The way her shoulders slumped forward in defeat caused a pressure in your chest that made it hard to breathe. Peggy shouldn't be going through these things at this point in life.

“Howard was working with the Pentagon, as a contractor or something. They had found you. Howard felt cornered and they made him sign an agreement.”

With your incredulous look on her face, Peggy didn't dare look back at you for a few seconds. So much had happened since you had left and it seemed that you had only been told about the things you weren't going to care about so much. But if you had known that you wouldn't have cared much about giving some of the state officials their comeuppance. You would've liked Howard to trust you enough to tell you, not live in as much fear behind his back as the last few years must've been. You didn't like the way Peggy's lips curved downward, as if she, too, would've preferred to make another decision had she known this was how it was going to end.

“Howard assured them that he could recreate the serum, and told them he would as long as they left you alone.”

“Fucking asshole…” you closed your eyes, scrubbing your face with your hands. The rough skin of your hands rubbed against the delicate skin of your face, years of combat and mistreatment foreseeing a harshness that reminded you every day of what you'd had to go through to get to that moment.

“I only found out about it after it happened. I didn't see it for like a whole week,” Peggy shook her head slightly, her eyes glistening in the pain of the memories. You shook your head hard, a more violent reaction than you could have anticipated.

“That stupid… stupid asshole! What the fuck made him think I couldn't defend myself?”

“He was trying to do the right thing,” Peggy finally searched your eyes, meeting the red rims that told her you were holding back too hard breaking in front of her, only using that pain mixed with rage to keep you sane.

“And look how that turned out!”

Peggy stretched her hand across the table, with a pleading look asking you to lower your voice, averting her gaze to the hallway. You followed her gaze, for a second forgetting where you were, forgetting that her family was with you behind the doors where you were plunged into darkness. It was past midnight.

You took a second to calm yourself, trying to drown out the uncontrolled emotions and taking deep breaths to calm your fluttering heart.

“And if what you theorize is true…” you regretted the moment those words left your mouth; you didn't even want to finish the sentence.

“Do you think it is?”

“I don't want to,” you shook your head instantly, closing your eyes, the thought sounding illogical inside your head. Your hands on your chest trying to contain the storm of feelings that was making chaos inside your head. “That would mean that everything we did, everything Bucky, Steve and Howard did and sacrificed, was in vain. It will all have been in vain.”

You spent several weeks with that thought in your head, working hand in hand with Peggy, and the organization you barely knew as SHIELD, to track down the whereabouts of the killer of Tony's parents and the one responsible because the Supersoldier's serums were, surely, in the wrong hands.

And yes, it was many years of fruitless missions and dead ends, with you running every field mission and Peggy calling the shots from the New York facility. Every time you felt close to discovering something, it seemed that the enemy rejoiced in your failures and still couldn't understand how they were always three steps ahead.

However, you had to leave the missions when Peggy became ill.

The silent, lethal Alzheimer's.

During the first months in the hospital, she still recognized you. She also recognized her husband and children. But after the first year, she frowned every time her children walked through the door. After a year and a half, her husband had to remind her that they had been married for about forty years.

After two years, she was still only remembering you, Howard, Steve and Bucky. Her whole life during her time in the army was all you talked about, sometimes you would tell her how much more time had passed than she remembered and always, without fail, she would ask you how much you had done in Europe for so long by yourself.

She cried every time she remembered Howard's death. She cried every time she remembered her children. Out of her mouth came a thousand apologies that no one would accept, because there was nothing anyone could do to prevent what had to happen. You wished she had been a serum test subject instead of you.

For several years, missions to find Tony's parents killer were sporadic because you spent more time around Peggy than at the SHIELD facility. She was the only thing you had left of everything you'd ever had, of when you held the world in your hands. She was the last thing keeping you tethered to that reality, keeping madness from flooding your reason. How could you have so many years ahead of you when that was all you had to live for? A life full of the dead, full of pain and suffering. What kind of karma were you paying for?

You were leaving the SHIELD facility, after another failed mission, when Nick Fury stopped you in front of the exit. You almost rolled your eyes right under his watchful gaze, tired of having to meet him anywhere, and exhausted from his comments about this vengeance project or whatever he wanted you to be a part of.

You still didn't know how, being such an exemplary agent, Coulson had fallen into his nets.

“Miss L/N,” the man stopped you with his words, his hands behind his back and a tense stance that caught your attention.

“Fury,” you nodded in his direction, hoping he'd be quick because you were running late for your weekly visit with Peggy. “Do you need anything?”

“I'd like you to come with me somewhere,” Fury approached tentatively, his one eye fixed on your wary expression, which shifted to boredom the moment you thought you knew what he wanted.

“If this is about that project, I've told you a thousand times-”

“No,” he interrupted you, moving forward and removing his hands from behind his back. “It's not related to that. I really want you to come with me.”

“You look agitated, but I need-”

“I'll take you to see Peggy myself after this.”

You didn't like that he knew your routine, even though you weren't doing enough to hide it from the other agents. But Fury looked nervous, even though he was hiding it very well, trying to keep his cool as he looked for ways to convince you.

You figured it wouldn't be a big deal for you to go off the deep end for once. After all, Peggy never remembered you were going to see her.

You set off in Fury's armored vans, not quite sure where you were going, but sure that it was urgent, because he had taken it upon himself to let his driver know that you had to get there as soon as possible.

You took that time on the trip to come up with a new strategy for the next mission because what you were doing up to that point wasn't working and you felt too close to throwing in the towel, figuratively speaking. You could spend years following a ghost, but you wouldn't give up on finding Howard and Maria's killer.

Before the car pulled up to one of SHIELD's secret sections, they passed the giant, imposing Stark Tower. You never saw Tony again after that time at his parents' funeral, not even during his visits to Peggy because you always made it a point not to cross him. You didn't think you'd be able to look him in the eye while you knew his parents had been killed without being able to tell him. You had promised Peggy in her lucid moments that you wouldn't tell him anything until you could find the culprit. You didn't want to initiate that pain if it had to be kept repressed, as yours once was, and probably still is. You had learned, some time after the funeral, that he was living with Edwin Jarvis, and you were glad to know that he would have good companionship to keep him company in such hard times.

Fury, a handful of agents and you entered the vans through the entrance to what appeared to be the parking lot of an old warehouse. Upon entering, the first thing you noticed was the number of armed agents that seemed to be guarding the place, not at all discreet to how SHIELD used to do things. You weren't sure if Peggy would authorize something like that, but you couldn't question the Director's decisions. It wasn't your place.

“What's going on here?” you frowned, watching as every meter there was another agent and another agent. You got out of the car without waiting for an answer from Fury, moving directly toward the entrance where most of the agents were concentrated. You barely noticed their looks in contradiction, running their eyes over you and then over the man trying to catch up to you, dubious as to whether or not they should move. “Move.”

“Wait,” Fury's voice stopped the command in the agents, who turned back to look at you as you sent Fury a confused look.

“What's all this mystery, Nicholas?” the man startled almost discreetly at your tone of voice, the agents stirring uncomfortably, but kept the serene expression that was getting on your nerves. “What the fuck did you do?”

“We got a call from the Arctic.”

“From the Arctic?”

You tried to ignore the way the hairs on your neck instantly stood up, your body alerting you to something your mind still couldn't comprehend. You felt like a deer face to face with a predator, expecting the worst.

“The Colonel informed us of something that might interest us,” Fury's cryptic voice echoed in your ears, drowning out the flicker of uncertainty vibrating from your head to your toes. “They found a plane.”

You didn't even answer him. Your heart began to pound wildly, cornered, ready to have your head bitten off. The tension in your shoulders intensified, with the involuntary movement of your hands as you broke into a cold sweat. The mere implication of his words caused an emptiness in your stomach, a sense of longing and fear you hadn't felt before.

You looked at Fury, trying to find in his gaze the gleam of a lie, but there was nothing there but assurance. There was nothing but recognition and understanding in his gaze, but that didn't make the emptiness in your stomach and the tight chest go away. It didn't make the feeling of being outside your body go away.

You barely remembered to move in the direction of the door, the agents instantly moving out of your way, pushing it so hard that one of them flew out. You moved your eyes around every corner of the room, the cream-colored walls generating a great repulsion in you. And there, in the midst of all the confusion and the storm, a confused and disgruntled face looked back at you. A face you never thought you would see again.

Steve Rogers was standing a few feet away from you, barely comprehending what was happening around him and instantly recognizing you. Your chest compressed once again, the tears you held back for so many years even in your loneliness making their own way into your eyes, endangering to end that mask you wore everywhere you went.

Steve was actually there, looking back at you with his eyes shining in recognition. You didn't know if he was as surprised as you were to react or you looked so bad that he didn't know if he should approach you or not. You just knew it was him, it really was him right there in front of you. He wasn't dead. Steve wasn't dead. He was alive. Ah, he was so alive.

The broken sob that suddenly left you was loud enough to make your friend shed his stupefaction and stride over to where you were. You barely managed to cover your face, between sobs, wails and disbelief, feeling your knees give out, surrendering to the weight of the pain, when his strong arms grabbed your shoulders before you hit the floor. Preventing your fall, as you had wished so many times before.

You cried against his shoulder, when feeling him against your body you knew there was no doubt it was true. You moved your hands away from your face, wrapping them around his waist as tightly and lovingly as you hadn't hugged anyone in so long. Surely the last time you hugged someone like that was when you saw Peggy on your way back from Europe.

Steve wasn't far behind, his arms around your shoulders just as tightly, his chin against the crown of your head, moving from side to side trying to hold back the loud sobs that shook your body.

You couldn't believe it, but it was true, he was right in front of you.

Steve was alive. He had come back to your side. You didn't even want to ask why.

And there was nothing else you could think about for the rest of your life.

#stxrvel talks #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky fic #bucky x you #bucky fluff #bucky barnes angst #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky #james bucky buchanan barnes #winter soldier #the winter soldier #steve rogers

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kimsunos · 2 years ago

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UNIFORM ☆ SUNOO SMUT

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT (18+ CONTENT)

in which you help sunoo with his little “problem”.

tags: afab!reader, sub!sunoo / dom!reader, blowjob, making out, they are both students, reader is very provocative and flirty, sunoo is kinda innocent and inexperienced, cum eating, degradation and praising (sunoo receiving)

words: 2k

a/n: this is kinda long-ish but bear with me!! also first smut here AND first time trying to write in english im very nervous im going to cry actually skjdalksjdla anyways i hope yall like it!! kisses <3

sunoo has always been a romantic, that's for sure. maybe this is due to his upbringing surrounded by good female influences. his mother taught him to always be nice to everyone and his sister kept sighing and daydreaming about love that never came, letters never sent, and movies that broke the heart. through the crack in the door, sunoo learned that true love was the one you found in someone who is your complete opposite, and that someone would be your supreme muse, the reason for all the most beautiful poems, where your hand would find shelter in the back pocket of their torn jeans and that you would love them until death do you apart.

for seeing everything through rose-colored lenses, bathed in the innocence of the love presented by his sister and mother, sunoo never, never ever, thought he would be faced with the scene in front of him: his girlfriend kneeling down, a mischievous smile pulling the corner of her plump lips upwards as she clumsily tries to unbuckle the belt of his pants.

he didn't know that things were going to end (or start) like this when he asked the teacher to go to the bathroom that morning, an almost visible discomfort in his pants causing extreme embarrassment. what could he do? in the previous class he had seen his beloved playing volleyball on the school's court and, well, sunoo is innocent, but he is still a teenager full of hormones and his girlfriend is very hot, you know what i'm getting at.

it's not like he's a pervert, you just... look very attractive in your sports shorts that perfectly outline your curves, your sweat-wet white shirt turns the fabric transparent in the most instigating areas, obscenely attracting sunoo’s and other people’s eyes.

you smelled of desire and it made him desperate. looking head to toe you made him feel so small and helpless. sunoo wondered how you could have a stare so intense and gentle at the same time. and while he thought too much about your gaze or whatever it could mean, the answer to the whole situation was on the tip of your tongue. you knew why he was so restless and anxious in your presence and knew what you had to do.

but his way of coping was to opt to speak as little as possible and run out to the classroom. he couldn't risk falling into the temptation called you, not now. his mind was barely able to comprehend this extraordinary force that drove him crazy, he didn't know exactly how to make it stop, but he knew it would have to be with you and that was what he feared.

sunoo and you, clear opposites, he, afraid of conflict, would hide. you, on the other hand, would attack. that's why, when gym class was over, you changed in the locker room, got your school supplies and, unlike the rest of the class, you didn't go in, hiding behind the cement pillar next to the boys' and girls' restrooms and patiently waiting for sunoo to arrive.

you had witnessed similar events before. like the time when you were on a video call and you, not too accidentally, chose to wear the thinnest and most revealing set of pajamas you had in your wardrobe. it was exhilarating to see the gentle boy lose himself in words and babble anxiously trying to hide his red face that he “needed to end the call right now”. or when he avoids your gaze when you're having ice cream, using all his strength not to stare like a depraved man at the way your tongue dances obscenely in the cold vanilla paste, and almost dying immediately when the sweet treat stains the corner of your mouth white.

the point is that you know what sunoo wants, and you also know that he is too innocent to ask for it with all the words. all these behaviors of yours were needed measures to make your boyfriend give in to his lust, and by the looks of it, it was working, because the boy was apprehensively running toward the men's room carrying a jacket hiding his pelvis when he spotted you, and at that moment he froze.

"why aren't you in class, sun?" you said, approaching the panting boy, putting a hand on his shoulder and frowning, feigning concern and completely ignoring the fact that you, too, were not in class.

"w-well... i..." he stammered. you had to use all your willpower to hold back your smile from taking over.

"oh, my, you're so red, do you want me to take you to the infirmary?" you continued the act, watching the boy look nervously around. he then interrupted the conversation, pulling you by the arm into the nearest bathroom and locking you both in the last stall.

"uh... sunoo? what was that?" you said, as soon as you heard the sound of the door locking.

he took a deep breath, searching for courage.

"y/n, help me." he pouted.

you couldn't help but smile a little. "ohh... what do you need help with, my love?" you said, watching the boy move awkwardly in that small space.

"aaah, y/n... please, i don’t want to say it i don’t want to say it..." he whined, incredulously, hiding his face in his hands. "that's so embarrassing.. we never done anything like that." he stood up with weeping eyes that stared anywhere but yours. you smiled, it was time to attack. and oh, there was something so rewarding about turning the polite boy into a mess.

"ooh, my love... we've never done what? i don't get it..." you said, holding the boy's cheek and tilting his face to the side so that you had room to leave lingering kisses, while with the other hand you slowly caressed his chest, stroking him.

he could only manage a whimper.

"yah, you know what it is!" he shouted low, afraid to be heard through the thin cabin doors.

you nodded no, as you held the boy's velvety face and feigned a misunderstood smile. "if you don't tell me, i won't know, and i won't be able to help you."

sunoo was in a moral dilemma. he wanted his first time with the person he loved to be as perfect as possible, not in a school bathroom with the chance of an inspector coming to check on you at any moment. but he was so desperate, the discomfort in his pants was starting to hurt, and the object of his desire was right in front of him, waiting to be enjoyed.

he made up his mind, closed his eyes and sealed your lips together. a kiss that soon became one of the hottest you two had ever had. sunoo was always a gentleman, shy little kisses on your mouth and cheek were his trademark, the boy was afraid and ashamed to go further, he didn't know what to do. but it didn't matter now, because his hands were on the back of your neck and you, now, were sure that he wanted you.

as you parted, a thin line of saliva connected the two of you. sunoo's lips were red and swollen, more appetizing than anything you had ever eaten. a naughty smile took over your expression, but it didn't last long as you had the boy seeking your lips again like a hungry man, as if you were the only thing that could save him from starving.

his hands were placed on your hips, squeezing lightly, and then on your face, and everywhere. sunoo wanted to feel your body all over his, without separations, as one. your mouth went all over the places you could access through the button-down uniform, marking his skin with red stains and bites. and sunoo, even if inexperienced, mirrored your behavior, also biting and kissing the entire length of your neck. you two were a complete mess.

the pleasure of the makeout was so great that sunoo unconsciously put his leg between yours and, desperate for friction and relief, started rubbing himself, moaning breathlessly as you moved to meet his movements.

"so... hm, you need to relieve yourself, don't you, sweetie?" you said, breathing heavily, and sunoo murmured a yes, not wanting to take his face off your neck. "i'll help you, don't worry." you finished, giving the boy a comically chaste kiss compared to the lewd act of the two of you. you then slowly lowered yourself to your knees, very close to the boy due to the small size of the booth.

"look at that..." you said, groping sunoo's member over his pants, noticing the dark spot on the fabric, indicating pre-cum. you kissed the area. sunoo could swear you were the most beautiful creature in the world. “i’m going to help you, ok?” you finished by sloppily unbuckling his leather belt, then undid the button and zipper of his pants. the sight was magnificent, making you salivate even over the fabric of his underwear. sunoo's cock was huge and you wasted no time in discarding everything that prevented you from observing the organ in all its glory.

"you're beautiful, sunoo," you said, as soon as his cock popped out, almost softly hitting your face.

in some other situation, the boy might have been feeling some kind of insecurity about his body or something, but lust had destroyed his logical reasoning, he wanted you, you, you, and just thinking about how fucked up he was made his dick twitch.

finding the situation cute, you laughed softly. your boyfriend is adorable, and will be even more adorable when he’s on the verge of tears from not being able to hold his moans. so you wasted no time and held his cock by the base, jerking slowly. you got confident and increased the pace as you saw the boy stagger with the new sensation that took over his whole body.

"ohh, y/n..."

without taking your eyes off the boy, you gave the head an experimental cat lick, watching triumphantly as he trembled. the salty flavour reached your taste buds and only stirred up the desire to have it all in your mouth, and so you did, dedicatedly sucking the pink head and then pushing as far as your throat could reach, repeating this movement several times.

"a-ahh, y-y/n, don't stop, please, it's too good..." cried sunoo, trying to keep his voice low, putting one of his hands on your hair and pulling lightly. the other was in his mouth, trying to muffle the sounds. his body was being totally controlled by pleasure.

"don't worry, honey," you pulled his cock out of your mouth, making a popping noise, choosing to jerk it sloppily with your hands. "i'm going to take care of this, okay? you're going to cum so hard for me, aren't you? i'm going to milk your cock all over." with each sentence, your rhythm increased, making lewd wet sounds.

"p-please.. don't, ahh, say such dirty things.”

"but you asked for it, sunoo, you're so dirty." the boy moaned in response, his hips unconsciously thrusting to fuck your hand. "begging me like a bitch in heat who can't wait," your hand was relentless, carefully working from the base to the head of his member. "fucking my hand and mouth like it was my pussy... i bet you're already addicted to the feeling, you'll want it every day, won't you?”

"y-yes, i've always- aah, wanted that, always wanted you to touch me, y/n."

"and you couldn't even use the right words for it, tsc tsc." you said, with your hand still working on his cock, squeezing and releasing in strategic places. "apologize, sunoo, tell me how you're going to ask for it next time, hm? like the good boy you are." you bit your lip, trying to not moan yourself with the scene in front of you.

"s-sorry, hmm, y/n... i'm going to ask you to suck me-, ohh, a-and make me cum, and do whatever you- my god, ahh, whatever you want with me." by the pulsation of his cock in your hand, you could feel that he was close.

“see? wasn’t that hard being good for me.”

that was the last straw for sunoo, who let out a white jet right in your face, staining your uniform a little. luckily you captured his cock again with your mouth and swallowed the rest of the liquid.

while sunoo was trying to catch his breath, he could swore he lost it again when he saw you scooping up his cum with your index finger and putting it inside your mouth in one movement. your tie was loose, your lips red and swollen, and the marks he made started to paint your neck. everything was making his mind foggy with lust but then you pulled him back, with a smile on your face.

"next time, love, try not to get my uniform dirty."

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