#i’ve seen more shit in the tags these past few months than i have in the entire year of 2023
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sillyguy-supreme · 5 months ago
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i look at kotlc tag
>someone is beefing with anons on the confession blog
>some kind of discourse that floats by like an iceberg
>a new venturer into the fandom (glad to have you here!)
>confessions blog beef (continued)
>keefeposting
>the confession that started the beef
>cool art :D
>keefeposting
>sokeefeposting
>another reference to discourse
>fintan
>someone bringing up sophitz vs sokeefe again
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therealcocoshady · 9 months ago
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Recovery - Chapter 16
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Eminem x FemReader (Y/N) fanfiction
Summary : Reader makes her relationship with Josh official. They go dancing on a double date but something goes terribly wrong.
Tags : Angst
CW : Sexual assault
FAST FORWARD TWO MONTHS LATER 
You were officially Josh’s girlfriend. You had « the talk » a few days earlier as he brought you home from one of your numerous dates. You saw each other pretty often, at least three or four times a week. In fact, as soon as a date ended, he seemed to make a point to ask you on another one. He also came up with a lot of nice romantic ideas and gestures. Every week, he would treat you to a fresh bouquet of flowers, and he made sure to wish you a good day… everyday. Your dates were also really fun. He seemed to make it a point to come up with original ideas and not just the usual “dinner and a movie” thing. In the last two months, you had attended shows, art exhibits, dancing classes… You could tell he was putting a lot of efforts into trying to win you over, and it was working pretty well. He was nice, funny, good-looking and caring. Talking to him was easy and you felt confident whenever he was around. So much so that you managed to open up to him, namely about your sobriety. He was extremely supportive of this and there wasn’t an ounce of judgement about your past. So, when he asked you to be his girlfriend, you were happy to accept. Everything about your relationship seemed to come naturally and you were sure that, in time, you would develop feelings for him. Stronger than those you had for Marshall, even. Or at least, you hoped so. 
Still, it felt nice making it official. Everyone at the studio constantly teased you on your happy demeanor. 
Look at how happy she is, Porter said with a grin. Our girl is getting some good sex. That’s some orgasm afterglow shit here. I know it ! 
What would you know about that ? Marshall asked. You’re the most single person I know. 
His friend simply replied by giving him the middle finger. 
Shut up. You’re not getting any pussy either, man. 
Marshall scoffed. As far as you knew, things were good between him and Nicole. However, it seemed like he hadn’t told the others about her. Probably to avoid getting so much shit. You smiled discreetly, as you were kind of in on a secret. He probably was getting laid and no one knew it. You tried not to think about it though. Just because you had a boyfriend didn’t exactly mean you liked the thought of Marshall sleeping with anyone, giving them the same orgasms as he had given you. It wasn’t that you were jealous or that you weren’t willing to go all in on your relationship. It wasn’t that you didn’t want your friend to be happy either. It was just weird to think about him sleeping with someone when the two of you had been intimate. 
You, on the other hand, hadn’t had sex with Josh yet. At first, you decided to take it slow. Marshall’s words about dating and recovery echoed in your mind and you figured you should probably play it on the safe side. Then, things had gotten a bit more serious and you had come close to sealing the deal, but your period got in the way. You had been waiting for it to be over so that you could get laid and it was now over. You could tell your boyfriend was looking forward to it too, even though he was a gentleman and never pressured you about it. Meanwhile, you planned your first time in your head. You had even bought a nice lingerie set from the occasion. You planned on wearing it tonight as you were sleeping over at Josh’s for the first time after a double date with Hailie and her boyfriend. 
When do we get to meet Josh ? Talia asked. 
Soon, probably, you replied. You’re going to love him ! 
I’ve seen him in pictures, he is HOT as fuck, she said. The two of you are going to have the hottest babies ever. 
Everyone laughed. By now, it wasn’t a secret to anyone that Talia had baby fever. You were pretty sure she was begging Jamal for a little one. 
Wait. We have pictures of the hottie ? Porter asked. I wanna see. 
Fine, you said as you rolled your eyes and got your phone out for everyone to see your cheesy wallpaper. It was a cute selfie of the two of you, at sunset. 
Oh, girl, Talia said. You are SO LUCKY. 
Jamal stared at her. 
So you’re into skinny white boys now ? He asked. Mmmkay. 
Everyone laughed at Jamal’s jealousy. They quickly commented on the picture and agreed that the two of you looked good together. Marshall looked at you with a smirk and you rolled your eyes at him. Although he was quieter about it, he still liked to tease you about your relationship. Only, he did it in private, via text or when it was just the two of you hanging out. 
Anyway guys, I should go change. We’re going salsa and bachata dancing tonight, you said as you got up and rolled your hips. 
You never dance for us, someone commented. 
There’s a LOT of things I don’t do for you guys, you replied playfully with a smirk. Afterglow shit, you know ? 
Everyone laughed except Marshall, who quietly stared at you and shook his head. You gave him a wink before exiting the room and changing into your clothes. You wore a beautiful black dress with a flowy skirt that still hugged the right parts of your body. It also had a deep v-neck that showcased your boob in the right way : just enough to be appealing, but still elegant. You added black heels and some gold hoop earrings. When you came back, the others were staring at you with big eyes. 
Damn ! Royce said. 
What ? You asked. Is it… too much ? 
Oh, we’re definitely seeing too much of something, Jamal said as he pointed at your boobs. 
Or not enough, Porter said with a chuckle. 
You could see Marshall giving him the biggest side-eye you’d ever seen. 
Sorry, Y/N, Porter chuckled. I just mean to say that you’re really hot in this dress. 
You look very nice, baby, Talia complimented. He is going to be all over you. 
Well, that’s kind of the goal, you know ? You said with a wink. 
I could have lived without hearing that, Jamal said sternly. 
You couldn’t help but chuckle. Jamal was always so protective. And when it came to you mentioning your sex life… Let’s just say he would gladly do without, as a matter of principle. 
Whatever, it’s just dancing, you said with a smile. Nothing inappropriate about that. 
Except it’s Bachata, Talia said. It’s like… the sexiest dance there is. 
Is it ? Porter asked. 
It is, you nodded. We’ve been taking a few classes. It’s really great. You’d like it. 
Care to show us ? 
You put some music on your phone and grabbed his hand, demonstrating a few steps. Royce and Talia were clapping, while Marshall and Jamal were sitting on their chairs with their arms crossed, unimpressed. When the music ended, Porter grabbed your hand and kissed it, like the gentleman he was. 
That is a sexy dance, Royce commented. 
Right ? Talia said. Babe, how come you never took me bachata dancing ? 
Because I definitely don’t need that to seduce you, Jamal replied. 
Oh, Josh doesn’t need that to seduce me, you chuckled. But I’m really happy he’s doing it. I swear, he is the most romantic person I know… 
Y’all should see the bouquets he gives her all the time, Talia told everyone. Our house looks like a flower garden ! And all the little presents, the messages… 
Really ? Royce asked. 
Oh, yes, you said with a smile. I’m dating a great man. 
That’s not even dating, that’s courting, Talia said. You guys are definitely getting married. I can already see the dress… 
We haven’t even met him yet, babe, Jamal said sternly. 
I don’t care, Talia shrugged. I know romance when I see it. This is the real deal. 
Well I’d definitely like to meet him, Jamal insisted. Just so that I can make sure he has good intentions. 
Don’t worry, you joked, if he proposes, he will need to get your blessing. And Talia’s approval on the ring. 
Two carat diamond, oval cut, halo, preferably rose gold, she recited. 
You’ve dated him for two seconds and a half, Marshall finally chimed in. 
I know, you said with a smile. But maybe he’s the one. 
He looked at you and seemed taken aback for a second. He sighed before looking at his phone and getting back to work. Eventually, they took a break and he came to you as you were making tea in the kitchen. 
So… Dancing ? He asked. 
Yup. Are you going to make fun of our dancing classes again ? You asked with a grin. 
Nope, he chuckled. I mean, it’s still corny, but… 
What do you and Nicole do on dates ? You asked. You could take her dancing, maybe she’d like that. 
First of all, I won’t be caught dead dancing bachata, he replied. Also, I don’t really see that ending well, me going on a date in a place full of people… 
Right, you chuckled. Your options are somewhat limited. 
Kind of, he said. I’m not great at dating anyway. 
Give yourself a little credit, you said softly. She wouldn’t keep seeing you after two months if you didn’t get a few things right. 
Well, tonight is only our fifth date, he chuckled. She can still run away. 
Only fifth date ? You asked in disbelief. 
Yeah, well, I’m busy, he said. And so is she, with these shifts in the ER. You know, not everyone goes out every night… 
I don’t see him everyday, you chuckled. 
Come on, he said as he rolled his eyes. We never see you around here anymore. Even my daughter sees more of you than I do, these days… 
Are you jealous ? You teased. Missing your incredible bestie ? 
Maybe a little, he said with a smirk. 
You’re too cute, you said before kissing his cheek. Movie night later this week ? 
Sure, he said. Anyway, enjoy tonight. And be careful, alright ? 
I’m with Josh, you said. I’m in good hands. And he knows I’m sober. I’m safe, I promise. 
Good. 
One question though… Are you with Jamal on the dress ? You asked. Is it too much ? 
Doesn’t matter, he said softly. You could be wearing those awful cat PJs and he’d still be the luckiest man in the world to have you by his side. But don’t worry, you look incredible. 
He kissed your cheek and went back to work. 
That evening, you joined Josh, Hailie and her boyfriend at the club and had fun dancing the whole night. The classes you had taken were paying off and Josh couldn’t seem to get enough of you, his hands not letting go of your hips the whole night. You left him for a few moments as you headed to the bar to grab some water. You were hot and dehydrated from dancing. The others were also a bit drunk from all the margaritas they had. Thankfully, you stuck to mocktails. Josh had offered to stay sober, in support of you, but you told him there was no need. He didn’t drink too much but was definitely tipsy. 
Hi beautiful, a man said as you approached the bar. 
Hey, you quickly greeted him and waited for the barman. 
How about I get you a glass of champagne ? The stranger offered. Only the best for a hottie like you. 
Uh, thanks but I’ll stick to water. Plus, I’m here with my boyfriend so, very flattered but… 
I don’t see any ring on that finger, he pointed out. 
Please stop, you asked as you rolled your eyes. 
Fine, I’m sorry, he apologised. 
You looked over at your friend group, still on the dance floor. 
There you go, the man said as he placed a glass of water in your hand. 
Is that for me ? You asked. 
Yeah. Sorry for hitting on you like a jerk, he said. Can I at least get a dance ? 
Don’t think so. Sorry. Thanks for the water though.
You drank about five glasses of water before going back to the group and danced with them some more. You started feeling a bit weird. As if you were drunk. You figured it was the heat and needed to splash some water on your face. 
I have to go to the bathroom, you told Hailie as she asked you where you were going. 
I’ll join you in a minute, she said. 
You went there and felt a hand on your ass. It was the stranger from the bar. 
So where’s that boyfriend of yours ? He asked with a grin. 
Dude, leave me alone, you said. 
Don’t be a bitch, he replied as his face got closer to yours, his hand still on your ass. I’ve seen you dance over there. Man, those hips…
He smelled like booze and you were grossed out. You thought you were going to puke. You felt him push you against the wall, as he took one of your boobs in his hands. You tried to push him back but found you had no strength. You were suddenly scared. 
Please, don’t, you begged as his moves made his intentions really clear. 
You were silently praying someone could come to your rescue, hoping no one would think you were banging a stranger in the bathroom. He didn’t listen and you could feel his hands slip under your dress as tears starting rolling on your cheeks. You could feel his touch on your body. Right where Marshall had been the last one to touch you. 
Marshall… you moaned as you cried. 
Call me whatever you like, baby, the stranger said with a laugh. 
You wanted to reply but you felt your eyes closing and your head hit the cold floor. 
Y/N ?! 
It was Hailie’s voice. 
GET OFF HER, you heard her scream. HELP.
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captainkirkk · 1 year ago
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✩ WEEKLY FIC ROUND-UP ✩
All the fics I’ve read and really enjoyed in the past week-ish. Reminder: This list features any and all ratings and themes. Please look at tags and warnings on ao3 before reading.
DC
fill in the blanks by mindshelter
"You?” Tim blurts. Holy shit. “You’re Kon?”
A nod. “Are you in any pain?” he asks again.
Kon’s skin is sun-kissed, cheekbones dusted with a fine smattering of freckles; he is, without exaggeration, the prettiest person Tim has ever seen. “No, I’m—great,” he says, fidgeting. “Do you, uh, come here often?”
Kon raises a brow. “To the medbay?” he intones. “Definitely more often than I’d prefer."
Fault Line by sElkieNight60 (+ podfic)
Part 1 of Tectonics
"You’re invulnerable…” he whispers, but it’s clear that fact falters in his mind.
Confusion writes its way into the lines on Conner’s face and Clark takes a step back as though physically pushed.
“You’re not invulnerable.”
It is a statement, dull like stone.
“N-no, sir.”
— 🦸 —
OR: Conner's not as invincible as Clark thought. Suddenly, he's a lot more human.
Danny Phantom x DC
The Business of Family by Spaced_Ace
Jazz remembered the way their parents loomed in the living room as they’d laid out that verdict. Ever-present weapons gleaming, standing in such a way that they blocked access to both the front and back entrances. Their eyes had been what struck her the most of that horrible tableau. What made her stomach fill with jagged stones and drenched her back in a frigid sweat. The way they looked at her little brother, their gazes cold and hollow and -
Hungry.
(Things are not well in Amity Park.
With the GIW getting more and more aggressive and their parents becoming ever more suspicious of Danny each day that passes, Jazz knows that they're running out of time. It's not safe, and their options are painfully limited. Out of sheer dumb luck or a little intervention from Clockwork, she manages to discover a distant relative that just might be their salvation.
If asked Oswald Cobblepot would say that it's just good business. Adopting a few kids had done wonders for Bruce Wayne's reputation, why not his? It's not like he can't afford to put them somewhere out of the way if they get to be a problem. It's just business. Nothing more.
(His soft heart says otherwise))
The Witcher
Words of Love by ForestWren
"I should warn you,” Jaskier said between kisses in the soft darkness of the shed, “That I know some… very interesting people. You may want to avoid meeting them.”
“I’ve dealt with the Redenian court for decades. Your friends can’t be worse than that.”
Five times Radovid meets Jaskier's friends and family, plus one time they are alone.
Star Wars x The Mandalorian
Master Skywalker: The Absolute Worst by PrinceJakeFireCake
"Din got to his feet. He patted Boba on the shoulder affectionately.
“You should watch the recording of Skywalker fighting the death troopers,” he said, then pressed a kiss to Boba’s cheek and told Grogu to stop eating his blocks.
Boba watched the recording. He was pretty sure he would never be the same again. He was positive that he never wanted to meet Skywalker ever again.”
Boba Fett falls for Luke Skywalker. It isn’t the funnest thing he’s ever done.
Original Works
Call Me Menace by wingedcat13
You, Synovus, are a respectably terrifying supervillain. Your main rivals, a pair of superheroes named Legionnaire and Athena, are actually respectable as heroes. You hate having to stoop to kidnapping their child - but you hate more what the kid's behavior implies.
if it don't hurt now (just wait a while) by quandaries_and_contradictions
Part 27 of mage in a wolf pack
When the hunters first take him, Jaime knows everything will be okay.
He’s scared, of course. He wants his mom and dad and little sister. But he knows it’s going to be okay — because the wolves who protect his town will come for him. Lada’s mother and father and papa won’t let the hunters get away with this. All he has to do is hold on until they get here.
Months later, he's not so sure.
Stranger Things
No One Rides For Free by weird_witchcraft
"Are you okay Harrington?” Eddie asks gently, “Need me to get anyone?”
“No one to get,” replies Steve, so soft Eddie barely catches it. “You think I want anyone seeing me like this?”
Eddie Munson stumbles across Steve Harrington crying next to a bush at Tina's party and makes it his mission to cheer him up.
Clone Wars
mirci't be uja by ihathbenobiwankenobied for whitchry9
Obi-Wan is usually good at keeping track of his blood sugar levels–because he has to be–but this time, it’s out of his control.
(Or, a diabetic Obi-Wan is thrown for a loop after crashing on an unknown planet. Stim does his best to keep his General alive)
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bwabys-scenarios · 1 year ago
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Reunited
Part 34
Illumi x Reader x Feitan(+Kurapika)
part 33
part 35
warnings: suggestive content
A/N: Kurapika is getting lucky next chapter 🫶
taglist: @tsukilover11 @mercyboluthecrazychicken @sxyriii @shidoni-san @living4tomrua @lemonslut @honeylunalove @sugarrushdaydream @canthebest1 @whorermoviestar @fabitheraven @ashdownunderscorebeloved @astresoleil @ranzxki @smuttysammie22 @yandere-enthusiast @lostsomewhereinthegarden @sketchy-owl @bekahtaylorgriggs @zanzie
if you’d like to be ADDED to the taglist, please comment a red heart ❤️, make sure you’re able to be tagged/mentioned, and have your age in your bio(IF YOU ARE ALREADY ON THE TAGLIST, YOU DON’T NEED TO ASK TO BE ADDED AGAIN!!)
if you like my writing, come join my discord!! we watch HXH, play games, and spend all night writing sometimes!! there’s also lots of content there that I may never post here!!
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(Name) stepped out of her shower feeling relieved in more ways than one. She’d orgasmed a few times before she was finally satisfied.
“Hmm…”
She sat with a towel wrapped around her on her bed, thinking about what to wear to her dinner date with Illumi. Her eyes landed on the lilac dress she’d bought when she’d gone shopping with Feitan.
“This should do…”
She stood up and placed the dress on her bed before stepping out into the living room to grab her purse. She’d retire her backpack for the night and take the small white purse for a more classy look.
Her towel slipped from her body, falling to the floor. Because she was alone, (Name) didn’t bother to cover herself, and just bent down to pick the towel up.
“With those heels, I might just have an outfit!”
He excitedly ran back to her room and pulled on a pair of her new lacy white panties. Feitan had picked them out for her, even if he’d had his face turned away while he did.
‘I wonder if they would like these…’
(Name) shook the thought from her head. She shouldn’t imagine the men in her life fawning over her underwear choice.
(Name) pulled her dress on, forgetting that it needed to be zipped up.
“Shit… maybe I can ask Illumi when he gets here?”
She continued getting ready. (Name) styled her hair, applied her makeup, and finished by spraying on her favorite perfume.
Knock knock knock!
(Name) set her bottle of perfume down and held her dress to her chest as she ran to the door.
She opened it to see Illumi standing on the other side, smiling down at her.
“Hello, (Name).”
His dark eyes took in her appearance hungrily, his hands twitching at his sides. He hadn’t seen her in so long, and he was aching to touch her.
“Illumi! Come in!”
She pulled the door open and gestured for him to walk in with a friendly smile. Illumi did as told, peeking at her from the corner of his eye to see her dress was unzipped in the back.
“Your dress?”
(Name) sighed. “I was actually just about to ask you to zip me up.”
He didn’t respond, instead grabbing her shoulders and turning her so her back was facing him.
Illumi looked down the expanse of her bare back, biting his lip. She was gorgeous, and this dress showed off all of her curves perfectly.
“Of course.”
He moved the zipper up her back, pausing only to give her one final look before pulling it the rest of the way.
“There.”
She turned around, looking up at him through her eyelashes. He hesitantly pushed a piece of hair out of her face, his touch gentle. “You look lovely.”
She looked away, flustered, warmth spreading through her cheeks.
“Thank you, Illumi.”
He stared down at her for a moment. Illumi had struggled to stay away from her these past past few months. Just being in her presence right now had his heart threatening to burst out of his chest.
“We should go. I’ve made reservations for dinner.”
Illumi took her hand and led her out the door, to a car parked outside. It was nice, nicer than any car she’d ever seen.
He opened the passenger door for her and closed it behind her before sliding into the drivers seat.
“Where’s the restaurant?”
Illumi pushed his hair back, glancing at her from his seat. “A few minutes away.”
She just nodded and stared out the window as he drove.
—————
Illumi pulled into the parking lot of a seemingly fancy restaurant, escorting (Name) to the door.
“After you, dear.”
(Name) walked through the door he held open with a smile, looking around with a gasp.
The restaurant wasn’t huge, only consisting of maybe 10 tables, but it was gorgeous. The walls almost seemed to glow red and yellow, creating enough light to see, but being dark enough for each table to have privacy.
A waiter appeared at their side, smiling. “Master Illumi, welcome. Your table is right this way.”
The man led them away from the front of the restaurant, opening a door to a private dining room. (Name) held onto Illumi’s arm as they walked.
“I’ll be right back with your drinks. Please, have seat and relax.”
The waiter left, closing the door behind them.
(Name) sat down, Illumi taking the seat across her. She played with her napkin.
“So… we should talk about… things.”
Illumi knew that she wanted to talk about what had happened, but he was still a little nervous. He had some things he wanted to tell her, and didn’t know how she’d react.
“Yes, we should. Let’s wait until our drinks arrive and we’ve ordered food.”
(Name) nodded. “Alright, that’s fair.”
The two chatted idly, (Name) doing most of the talking. Honestly, he was just happy to be near her again, and could listen to her talk for ages.
“I got to meet up with my friends too! Oh, I missed them so much and I even-“
She paused. It was probably for the best if she didn’t mention she’d been confessed to. And kissed. More than once.
“Hmm? You even what?”
Illumi tilted his head. “Oh, um… I even got to see Killua!”
This seemed to distract him from the fact she was holding back some other information. “Really? How is he?”
(Name) sighed. “He’s fine.”
The waiter walked in carrying their drinks, smiling. “Here you are! Are you ready to order?”
The two ordered their food, the waiter leaving shortly after.
Illumi looked like he wanted to say something, so (Name) stayed quiet.
“I…”
He took her hands in his, looking into her eyes. “I wanted to… apologize for what I said.”
She stayed quiet, but her eyes lit up.
“I… I never believed for one second that you only cared about money. You never have before.”
‘Never had before?’
“You’ve always been so kind and thoughtful, and never asked me for anything. Although sometimes I wish you would ask for a little…”
He trailed off, squeezing her hands lightly.
“What I’m trying to say is… I’m sorry. You did nothing to earn what I said to you, and even if you had it was still out of line. You’re important to me, and knowing I hurt your feelings…”
He grimaced, looking down at the table. (Name) squeezed his hands back.
“I see… I accept your apology Illumi. I’m really happy you didn’t actually believe in that… it’s a real weight off my shoulders.”
She sighed in relief and gave him that pretty smile of hers. “Is that all you wanted to say?”
Illumi hesitated on this. There were so many things he wanted to tell her. That she looked beautiful tonight, how he was her childhood friend and most importantly…
“I love you.”
He’d blurted this out without thinking, a mistake he didn’t make often. His cheeks turned a light pink when he realized he’d said they aloud.
Illumi searched her face for a reaction, desperate. She didn’t seem offended or upset, just… surprised, and… conflicted?
“You… love me?”
His words finally seemed to sink in, and the girl became visibly flustered. Her cheeks heated up in a blush.
“…”
Illumi leaned across the table and pulled her into a kiss. It was as gentle as he could manage, his hand on her face keeping her firmly in place.
When he pulled back, his eyes were half lidded, his tongue licking up the remnants of her strawberry flavored chapstick.
“Yes, I do. I…”
He sat back down and grabbed her hands. “I want to marry you, (Name).”
(Name) blinked and hurriedly let go of his hands. “M-marriage!? Illumi, I haven’t even been on a date with y-“
“Then let’s go on a date. I’ll take you anywhere you’d like to go.”
He pulled her hands back into his, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles gently. ‘So soft…’
“Illumi…”
She sighed and looked down. “Marriage is… a big thing. You can’t just confess your love for me and say you want to get married. I haven’t even said if I reciprocated yet.”
“You don’t have to reciprocate my feelings now. You can grow to love me after we’re married.”
He lifted her hand to kiss it, (Name) groaning. “Illumi. I haven’t even agreed to marriage yet. And yes, if I marry someone I have to love them.”
Illumi paused, his eyes boring into her. “You said you wouldn’t mind marrying me, before. Has… something changed?”
He felt something awful begin to well up in his stomach. Had she fallen for one of her friends?
“I said I wouldn’t mind, not that I would marry you or was ready for it.”
She lifted one of her hands to rub her temple. “Illumi, I’m not rejecting you, or saying I would never marry you. I just…”
Illumi’s grip tightened on her hand. “What?”
She decided not to acknowledge the tone of his voice.
“I’m not ready for that. For… any of this. I’m not even sure how I feel about you, about anyone yet.”
“Anyone?”
(Name) felt the air begin to change.
“Does that mean there is someone else?”
She looked away. “… kind of? I mean I’m not sure how I feel for them either.”
“Them? Plural?”
(Name) nodded hesitantly. Illumi would have never thought he’d have any competition for (Name)’s hand, considering he thought she was already HIS. The thought of any other man taking her from him made his skin crawl.
“…”
He bit the inside of his cheek so hard it bled, his eyes closing as he attempted to calm himself down.
‘She hasn’t rejected you, and obviously has to feel SOMETHING for you. Calm yourself before you scare her off.’
Before Illumi could think any further, (Name) stood up and approached him. “(Name)?”
She didn’t respond, only wrapping her arms around him. He quickly pulled her in closer, his nose burying itself into her hair. God, he missed having her in his arms.
“I do care for you, Illumi. A lot. Please don’t think you come second to anyone. This isn’t what this is about. I just need time to think things over, okay? Until then…”
She pulled away and pecked his lips before kissing him again, this time deepening it.
Illumi melted into her lips, his hands roaming her back. Before his fingers could reach her zipper to pull it down, there was a knock on the door.
(Name) pulled away and sat down, smiling at him.
“Be patient, okay?”
She gave him a wink before the waiter walked in with their food.
Illumi wasn’t a patient man by nature, but for her, he felt like he could wait for forever if it meant those lips would be on his again.
———————
After dinner, Illumi got a call from Hisoka and had to leave. She wasn’t sure why, but he seemed rather annoyed.
“I’m sorry, I planned on staying with you overnight, but it seems I’m needed.”
He cupped her cheek, the girl confused. “Overnight? Why?”
He tilted his head, leaning towards her from his seat in the car. “To make love to you, of course.”
(Name)’s jaw dropped. “Make- oh.”
(Name) wasn’t exactly opposed to having sex with Illumi, in fact she was quite hot and bothered after being kissed by two handsome men in one day, but she was a little surprised he’d said this out loud.
“My apologies, I’ll make it up to you later.”
He kissed the top of her head. “I have to go now. I’m not sure when I’ll be able to see you again, but it should be soon. How much longer are you staying in York New?”
(Name) sighed. “I haven’t bought my tickets home yet, so I don’t have any scheduled time to leave. I have to be out of my condo in a two days, though.”
Illumi nodded. “I see. I can pick you up and take you to the manor when you are ready. We’ll have more privacy there.”
(Name) was about to complain about not agreeing to leaving with him and the fact that they would not have any privacy in his home, but he was already parking and leaving the car to let her out.
“Goodnight, (Name).”
He gave her a final kiss. His kisses were a bit awkward and rough, but with a little guidance they were becoming softer, sweeter. His teeth nipped at her bottom lip, causing her mouth to open in a gasp and give his tongue access.
(Name) moaned into his mouth as his hands squeezed her ass. If Illumi didn’t have to leave, he would have kicked her door open and taken her on the floor if he had to.
Illumi pulled away, their tongues connected by a strand of saliva. (Name) blushed profusely at his expression. She could just feel the tension in the air, and in his hands.
“G-goodnight to you too.”
(Name) walked into her condo, pulling her dress over her head and throwing it into her closet. She was burning up, from the dress and from his kisses.
She pulled her phone out of her pocket to see Leorio had sent her a picture.
Silly<3: since you asked to see Kurapika’s disguise…
Silly<3 sent an image!
It was a picture of Kurapika dressed in his disguise, applying lipstick. It was surprisingly attractive, (Name) kicking her feet as she took on his appearance.
“He sure is pretty…”
She sighed. There were no other messages. Feitan must of been busy, and she knew the rest of her friends were as well.
She could feel her panties get wet as she remembered the past few days. Feitan calling her a good girl, Kurapika groping her, Illumi saying he was going to fuck her…
This much attention was making her head spin. She slipped her fingers into her core, whining against her pillow as she fingered herself to the thought of being fondled and touched by all these men.
It was too much, the girl whimpering and whining as she reached her high, cumming on her fingers.
‘This is so dirty…’
She stood and walked to the shower to clean the stickiness from her legs.
After her shower, (Name) lied back in her bed in just a pair of panties and her shirt, sighing softly into the plush material of her pillow.
———————
(Name) was awoken by her blanket being tugged off of her. “Wake u-“
She whimpered at the sudden coldness, pawing at where her blanket had been.
“Rest of you, out. Now.”
“But-“
“Out.”
(Name) slowly rubbed at her eyes before she opened them.
“Oh, Fei! What’s up?”
She smiled at him, arching her back as she stretched before collapsing on the bed again. He stared at her body, seemingly transfixed on her lower half…
‘Oh. I only wore panties and a shirt to bed…’
She squeaked and rushed past him to her bathroom to throw on a pair of pajama pants. Feitan watched her run, noticing the slight bounce her ass made when she did.
He didn’t even bother trying to calm his racing heart down, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from getting hard. Did she have to arch her back, making the imprint of her pussy in her strawberry panties completely visible to him?
She walked back out of her room wearing a pair of shorts that were a bit too short considering he wasn’t the only one in her condo, but Feitan wasn’t the type to tell her what she could and couldn’t wear.
She didn’t meet his eye, quickly shuffling past him and into the living room.
“Hey there, strawberries!” Shalnark waved to her, his cheeks a light pink.
(Name) gasped and her hands immediately went to her butt. “Did you…”
“Yep! We saw!”
“We!?”
She glanced around the room to see Phinks and Nobunaga sitting on her couch. They both seemed a little flustered, Phinks hiding it better than Nobunaga, who was a blushing mess.
Neither of them could look her in the eye.
“Didn’t think you’d be sleeping half naked.” Feitan said as he left her room, glad that he was wearing his cloak to hide himself.
“Well I didn’t think you’d be bursting into my room! You could have knocked or something!”
“I did. For five minutes.”
Her eyebrow twitched, and Shalnark wasn’t helping much with the way his eyes were following her ass as she walked.
“Jesus…” she walked to the kitchen and pulled out a juice box, which she sipped on while they began to talk.
“What’s the reason you’re all gathered here anyways? Didn’t know my condo was a hang out…” she’d said this jokingly, but the air grew cold all of a sudden.
“Wait, I wasn’t being serious, you’re all always welc-“
“Not that.”
Feitan looked down at the floor, clutching the fabric of his coat tightly.
She frowned. One look around the room told her that what they needed to say was serious.
“Last night…”
Feitan stepped forward, ready to bring her into his arms.
“Pakunoda died.”
(Name) stared at the short man, her eyes wide with shock. A small tremble entered her limbs, her hands slowly lifting to cover her mouth.
“No…”
Feitan pulled her close as she began to cry, openly sobbing into his shoulder. “No… not Pakunoda too…”
(Name) hadn’t known her long, but after she’d seen (Name)’s trauma, she bonded with her.
She’s promise to show Pakunoda her cats one day, even offering to let her adopt one of the kittens Tammy had.
But now she was gone. Forever.
Nobunaga stood up, walking towards the pair. He was tall and a little intimidating to the shorter girl, but she wiped away her tears and looked up to face him anyways.
“You… you cried for Uvogin and Pakunoda. And the flowers you gave us…”
He pulled one of the paper daisies from his kimono. “It’s a testament to your kindness. We wanted you to know Pakunoda had been thankful to you, for letting her see your past.”
He gave her a sad smile, something that must of been hard to do, considering two of his childhood friends had passed within the past two days.
“I… I’m so sorry. If I had been with you I could have-“
Feitan stopped her by covering her mouth with his hand. “Shh. Don’t be sorry. You there, would have gotten you killed.”
Shalnark was the next one to approach, patting her head. “We all know what comes with what we do. Every member of the group understands that death is inevitable, and that our work means it’ll come for us quicker than it would normal people. Pakunoda knew this, and accepted her fate.”
She couldn’t help the tears streaming down her face. “But… but…”
“Shh. You couldn’t have done anything to change what happened. She was killed instantly, no nen could have saved her.”
Shalnark gave her a hug if his own, rubbing soothing circles into her back. (Name) sniffled, finally drying up her tears enough to be let go and start making breakfast.
The four watched from the living room as she sniffled while mixing up scrambled eggs and flipping pancakes.
“She’s cooking breakfast?” Shalnark asked.
“Cooks when she’s stressed.” Feitan answered.
A few minutes into cooking she got a call.
‘It’s Leorio!’
“Hello?”
“(Name), we need you right now! Kurapika… he’s hurt.”
(Name) dropped her spatula to the floor, causing Feitan to look up from reading one of the books sitting on her table. “(Name)?”
“Where are you?”
Feitan walked over as (Name) wrote down an address on a piece of paper, before turning to Feitan.
“Can any of you cook?”
Shalnark poked his head up. “I can, at least breakfast foods.”
She handed him her apron and ran to her room, throwing off her shirt before she even closed the door all the way.
“Your girlfriend has so self preservation.” Phinks said, turning to Feitan with a raised eyebrow.
Feitan decided he wasn’t in the mood to correct him. “Not wrong.”
She walked out of her room wearing a pair of jogging pants and a sweater, hopping around as she attempted to pull on her other shoe and talk to someone over the the phone.
“Yes, yes I’ll be there in 15 minutes. Please tell him I’ll be there.”
She rummaged through the cabinets and grabbed a pop tart before walking towards her front door.
“(Name) what are you doing?”
She paused for a moment as Feitan grabbed her sleeve. “A friend of mine was hurt, and I need to go help him. Shalnark, sweetheart, can to finish up breakfast? You all can stay as long as you need, just-“
“I come with you.”
(Name) sighed, pulling at his hand. “Fei, that’s an awful idea. I know you all have been up to something, and it’s not a good idea to be out and about during the day.”
She leaned forward and kissed his forehead. “I’ll be back tonight. Maybe. See ya!”
She left while he was distracted by the kiss, closing the door behind her.
He couldn’t turn around and face his friends with his cheek as red as a tomato.
“Ooo, someone’s going to get lucky t-“
Feitan threw a shoe at Shalnark’s head.
—————
(Name) munched on her pop tart as she sat in the back of her cab, anxiously texting Leorio. He took a minute to respond.
Silly<3: he has a fever, everyone’s here right now.
(Name) held her backpack to her chest, hoping he’d be alright. Her heart thumped painfully against her ribs.
‘He promised he would be okay…’
The cab dropped her off in front of the small motel, (Name) jumping out and running to the entrance.
Killua and Gon were waiting for her outside. “(Name)!”
They led her to where Kurapika was resting, if you could call it that. The fever was causing him to thrash in bed and pant like an animal.
“Kurapika…”
She ignored everyone else in the room, Leorio shooing the others out of the way. She dropped down onto her knees next to him, pushing back his hair.
“Shh, it’s okay, I’m here sweetheart.”
Just her hand infused with nen was enough to make him relax a bit, but to save his life she’d have to go to a level two.
The entire room went quiet when she leaned down and pressed a kiss to his lips. Even in his sleep, it was like he knew she was there.
“(Name)..” he muttered against her lips, his body finally relaxing. She pulled away and placed a hand on his forehead, sighing in relief.
“He’ll be okay.”
A woman behind her let out a breath she’d been holding in. “Oh, thank goodness. We were terrified the fever might kill him.”
She glanced back at the woman and smiled. “Your voice… it’s so pretty…”
Her eyes fluttered closed and she fell backwards into the floor.
“(NAME)!”
She grunted, trying to pick herself up, but could barely move her limbs.
“(Name), what’s going on? Are y-“
She shook her head. “I’m fine. If I hadn’t been here… he would have died. My ability takes my stamina and gives it to whoever I kiss to help speed up their healing process. And he…”
Leorio helped her to a chair. “If he was able to zap away all your stamina…”
“Then he was near death.” Gon finished, watching over his friend with concerned eyes. The woman stepped forward with a smile.
“You care deeply for Kurapika. Differently than the others do.”
(Name) barely had the energy to be embarrassed, whimpering slightly. “Oh don’t expose me like that in front of everyone…”
‘Is it not obvious?’ Leorio thought, his eyebrow twitching.
The woman laughed. “My name is Melody, I’m a coworker of Kurapika.”
“I’m (Name), a friend.”
Killua watched this interaction with conflicted interests.
On one hand, he thought Kurapika could potentially be a much better match for (Name) than his brother. On the other, he knew that Illumi genuinely did love her, and despite their differences he did care for him.
(Name) stayed by Kurapika’s side the rest of the day, only stepping away to eat and use the bathroom. Leorio offered to watch over him when night fell, but she stayed by his side even then.
“I can’t leave him. If his fever spikes again, I want to be nearby.”
Leorio knew better than to argue, so he pulled the small couch over so she could at least rest comfortably against it as she watched over Kurapika.
He tossed and turned in his sleep, muttering something unintelligible. She took his hand and kissed each of his finger tips, sighing as his palm cupped her cheek. Even asleep, his touch was gentle and loving.
“Oh, Kurapika… my sweet boy…”
Tears welled up when she looked down at his exhausted expression. She wanted to make all of his pain go away, but her nen only worked on physical ailments, not emotional ones.
She hummed the Kurtan lullaby he’d sang to her months ago, running her hands through his blonde hair. This calmed him enough to keep him from thrashing.
(Name) woke up to the sound of her phone ringing in the middle of the night. She looked down at it groggily, rubbing her eyes.
‘Did I fall asleep?’
She answered it quickly and walked outside to talk to the person privately.
“Hello?”
“(Name), where are you? Said you’d come back tonight.”
It was Feitan, and he sounded both worried and irritated.
“I said maybe, Fei. His condition was worse than I thought, so I’ve been watching over him. I’ll need to give him more treatment when he wakes up.”
Feitan scoffed. “Can’t anyone else watch… him?”
(Name) raised an eyebrow. “Technically, yes, but I’m watching over him. He… he almost died.”
Feitan was quiet for a moment, the sound of people talking in the background making her sigh.
“Are you still at my condo?”
“Yes.”
“… is everyone else there too?”
“… yes…”
(Name) held back a giggle. “There’s a pull out couch and a few air mattresses in the storage closet. You can have my bed, the others can fight over who gets what.”
Feitan pushed his hand through his dark hair with a sigh. “You not coming, then?”
“I’m not. Sorry, Fei. I can be there tomorrow, though, promise.”
“Tomorrow… I get you dress in the morning. We have plans for tomorrow.”
“Dress? Do you even know my s-“
He only laughed, before hanging up. (Name) looked down at her phone with sleepy eyes before pocketing it and walking back inside. Killua was waiting for her by the door to Kurapika’s room.
“Who were you talking to?”
He didn’t look suspicious, just curious.
“Oh, just a friend. He seems to be jealous I’m spending so much time with Kurapika.”
She walked past Killua into Kurapika’s room, sitting beside him once more.
Killua sat down next to her and leaned his head against her shoulder. “It’s been a hard week for you, huh?” (Name) asked, wrapping her arm around him.
He didn’t answer. It felt nice to be comforted, for someone to recognize he was having a hard time. Not many people noticed when Killua was genuinely tired or upset.
“You should sleep. The auction is tomorrow, right? You’ll want to be fully rested.”
Killua nodded, but didn’t move. He was pretty tired, but he couldn’t bring himself to get up. She was warm, and safe. He just wanted to feel protected for a little bit longer.
(Name) chuckled, moving a bit. “Here, you can sleep next to me. There’s just enough room.”
She lied down and patted the bit of couch next to her. Usually, killua wouldn’t have taken her offer even if he wanted to, but tonight was different. He was anxious about the auction, about Kurapika’s condition. A little bit of comfort couldn’t hurt, right?
He crawled in next to her, the woman instantly wrapping her arms around him and pulling him close. She was warm and soft, like a mother should be. He felt his eyes get heavy. It ordinarily took Killua hours to fall asleep, but now, he was about to pass out after only a minute of being in (Name)’s arms.
“Goodnight, Killua.”
He had fallen asleep, not able to say it back. She kissed the top of his head and pulled their blanket up to his chin. (Name) worried deeply did the boy. He’d never been so clingy before, whatever had happened the past few days must of been stressful.
She continued to hum that Kurtan lullaby throughout the night, only stopping when she fell asleep herself.
——————
(Name) awoke to the smell of something delicious. She pushed herself up, realizing that Killua was gone. ‘He probably left before everyone else woke up…’
She rubbed her eyes as she felt someone sit on the couch next to her. “Good morning, (Name). Got you some breakfast.”
It was Leorio, who was handing her a box of takeout. She took it with a grateful smile.
“Thank you, my nen takes a lot out of me.”
She began eating as other people filed into the room. Melody was there, alone with a strange man she hadn’t met before.
“Did you sleep okay?” Melody asked, giving her a smile. (Name) nodded, smiling back.
“Yes, I did. Thank you for being here for Kurapika. I’m sure he appreciates you.”
The woman was taken aback by this. ‘This girl… her heart beats for the sake of other people… what a kind sound…’
(Name) turned her attention back to Kurapika, planting another kiss on his forehead. “He’s doing a lot… better.”
She nearly fell again, but Leorio was there to catch her this time. “Woah, easy there. Warn us before you start treatment, doll face.”
She giggled, pinching his cheek. “Doll face?”
“If Kurapika can call you angel, I can call you doll face!”
His cheeks turned slightly pink, a pout on his lips. She smiled pulling him in for a hug.
“That’s fine with me.”
For a moment Leorio stared down at her, his hands on her waist. If Kurapika hadn’t confessed his love for her just a day ago, maybe Leorio would allow himself to feel something more for her.
But he couldn’t. Kurapika was obviously IN love with her. It wasn’t some crush or just lust, it was love.
“Yeah, yeah.”
He pulled away and ruffled her hair. “You’re like a magnet, ya know? You’re always pulling people in.”
(Name) tilted her head, confused. “Magnet?”
He laughed. “Never mind. Go ahead and eat your breakfast. We’re going to go grocery shopping. You think you can make lunch?”
She nodded. “I’ll make some soup that Kurapika can eat when he wakes up.”
The group left, leaving (Name) with Gon, Killua, and the still asleep Kurapika.
“We’re going to get ready for the auction.”
Killua stayed quiet next to Gon, staring at her with his blue eyes. He seemed to be trying to tell her something.
“Gon, could you grab me a drink?”
“Yeah sure!”
The boy raced off, leaving the two alone. Killua stared at her for a moment more before sighing and slowly wrapping his arms around her.
‘He’s shy, that’s adorable.’
She didn’t say this out loud, only humming again while patting his back. “Thank you. For last night.”
He kept a grip on the back of her shirt, his chin resting atop her head.
“It’s nothing, really. I’ll always be here if you need me, Killua.”
He didn’t respond, his grip tightening on her shirt answer enough. Tears threatened to spill from his eyes.
They heard Gon’s footsteps coming down the hallway, causing Killua to let go and step back.
“Here you go (Name)!” He offered her a glass of lemonade, which she took.
“Thank you, ya cutie pie!”
(Name) pulled him into a hug and kissed the top of his head. “My sweet boys! I’m so proud of you both, ya know? You’ve been through so much recently yet you’re still going strong.”
The two became a bit flustered over her praise, sitting next to her while she watched over Kurapika.
They stayed by her side and chatted until they had to leave to get ready for the auction. By that time, Leorio was back with groceries.
“Hey, got what ya needed! I’ll take over watching Kurapika, so you can make lunch.”
She nodded and stood, stretching her limbs. It was around 11 am, giving her just enough time to have lunch ready by 1 pm.
(Name) began cutting up celery and onions as chicken boiled on the stove. Occasionally she’d leave the small kitchen to run up the stairs and check on Kurapika, who was still would asleep.
She dropped the noodles into the pot of chicken broth to let them boil, tearing apart the now cooled chicken into bite size pieces.
When she had finished, she placed the sautéed vegetables, chicken, and a can of cut carrots into the pot, creating chicken noodle soup.
She began making bowls for each of the people still there. One for her, one for Leorio, one for Melody, and one for Kurapika.
‘He should be waking up soon…’ she thought, carrying the bowls on a tray upstairs.
“Oh (Name), that smells delicious!”
Melody took the tray from her hands and offered (Name) her seat by Kurapika’s side. (Name) took it with a small thanks.
“Mmm, (Name)’s cooking! Haven’t had some of this since the Hunter Exam!”
Melody smiled. “Oh, you took the Hunter Exam together?”
The two nodded. “Yes! Leorio, Killua, Gon, Kurapika, and I all took the Hunter Exam together! Ahh, what simple times those were…”
She took a bite of her soup, Leorio following suit.
After a moment (Name) left to the convenience store to grab more coffee for Leorio and Melody.
——————
(Name) walked back into the motel, drinks in hand when she heard talking upstairs. She blinked, hurrying up the stairs.
‘Was that..?’
She burst into the room to see Kurapika turn his head slightly, a tired smile on his lips when he saw her.
“Angel… you’re here…”
Tears started to fall from her face as Melody grabbed the cups so (Name) could collapse next to him, crying into his chest.
“I was… I was so scared you weren’t gonna make it!”
She sniffed and cried, the blonde lifting his hand to pat her weakly.
“Shhh, I’m alright. I promised I would come back to you alive, right?”
She nodded slowly, looking up at him through her teary eyes. “Yeah… you did…”
He wiped away her tears. Kurapika stared at her lips before (Name) caught him and leaned forward, capturing his lips in a kiss.
Melody blushed and quickly turned to give them some privacy.
(Name) pulled away and smiled.
“I love you, angel. Thank you for being here… it’s more than I deserve.”
She shook her head. “You deserve the world, Kurapika. I…”
She kissed his forehead, causing the blonde to pout. “You missed.”
He pointed to his lips. (Name) rolled her eyes and gave him another kiss, making him sigh dreamily. “Is that better, sweetheart?”
His eyes started to drift closed. “Mhm… much…”
“Kurapika, would you like some-“
“He’s asleep.”
(Name) looked back at Kurapika to see he’d fallen asleep again, this time with a small smile on his lips. Leorio changed the rag on his forehead, sighing.
“You should get plenty of rest.”
(Name) clutched at the fabric of her sweater, contemplating giving Kurapika another nen infused kiss for treatment when her phone began to ring.
“Oh, sorry. I’ll be right back.”
She hurried out the door as to not wake her exhausted friend.
“Hello?”
“Got your dress. Meet me in front of auction in 15 minutes. Help you get ready.”
Click.
‘Feitan, again? How rude.’
She sighed and walked back up the Kurapika’s room.
“Hey, I’ll be leaving for a few hours at most. A friend of mine needs me for something.”
Leorio nodded. “Of course, you’ve done more than enough. You should try and rest, considering how much nen you’ve used within the past day.”
She gave a quick nod before grabbing her backpack and sitting beside Kurapika once more.
“I’ll be back, okay? And… I’ll be keeping my promise to you.”
She pressed a sweet, gentle kiss to his forehead before leaving once more.
“Promise? What do you think that means, Melody?”
The woman only shook her head, her face red. “Oh um…”
‘It means something… not very platonic.’
——————
(Name) walked into the auction hall feeling insecure in her day old jogging pants and sweater. She got some weird looks from multiple people before she felt someone grab her arm and pull her towards a private area.
“Fei!”
She smiled brightly at the man tugging her away, spotting Phinks to her left. “Shh. Draw attention to yourself, stupid girl.”
The two pulled her into an empty room, Phinks holding a black bag. “You know, when two men pull a woman into a room she can’t help but be a little frightened.”
Feitan rolled his eyes. “I never hurt you.”
‘Not on purpose, at least.’
As Phinks pulled out a long red dress, Feitan stared at the wrist he’d broken just days before. Guilt still consumed him when he thought about it for too long.
“Oh…”
(Name) held the dress in front of her, raising an eyebrow at the two. “Are you sure this will fit me?”
Feitan shrugged. “Should, Machi made it.”
“Machi?”
“Yeah, don’t tell her I told you but it’s a gift from her.”
‘Oh, she’s shy. That’s cute!’
(Name) stared at the two men, who were watching her. “Can you two… um… leave so I can change?”
“Oh. Yeah.”
The two walked out and stood guard at the door, sending glares at anyone that got too close.
A few minutes later it clicked open, (Name) stepping out in the heels that had been included.
Feitan only looked at her for a second before he shoved her back into the room and closed the door behind him.
The dress she was wearing fit, but the chest area was snug. It was a sleeveless, floor length gown with slit on the left side that went all the way up her thigh.
“…”
He stared down at her ample cleavage, causing the girl to blush. “Fei you’re… you’re staring.”
He glanced up at her through his dark eyelashes, humming. “What about it?”
She pouted and covered her chest. “Pervert.“
He grabbed her waist and pulled her in close, staring at her face. She gasped when she shoved his nose into her neck, sniffing at her.
“Smell different. Like another man.”
She pushed him back a little, flustered.. “Y-yeah, my friend is a man. I was treating him.”
Feitan did little to hide his jealousy. “Tch. Stinks, brought your perfume.”
He covered his nose and pulled away, his eyes narrowed. (Name) snickered.
“You’re acting like a jealous boyfriend, Fei. I don’t think he stinks at all, in fact he smells very nice, like warm vanilla.”
Feitan scoffed. “Like vanilla? What is he, girl?”
“No, he’s not! He’s very pretty though…”
He didn’t miss her faint smile as she thought of him. Feitan looked away, biting his lip.
‘Does she think I’m pretty..?’
It was easier for her to see all the subtle expressions on his face when he wasn’t wearing that coat.
“Oh.”
Because she’d been pulled away and shoved into a dark room to get dressed, she hadn’t had the time to take in Feitan’s appearance.
His hair was combed, and dressed in a nice suit. She hummed in appreciation. “Fei, you sure clean up nice.”
Feitan’s face reddened by her compliment, the man turning away quickly to hide it. “Shut up. Time to go.”
But he was happy she noticed the effort he put into looking a bit nicer.
He opened the door and (Name) stepped out, Phinks letting out a low whistle.
“You sure are pretty, (Name).”
The girl waved her hand and giggled. “Aww, you’re sweet Phinks.”
Feitan handed her the makeup bag Machi helped them pack and pointed her towards the women’s restroom.
‘Why did I have to change in a random room when the women’s room was right there??’
She huffed and left to do her makeup.
——————
Feitan’s breath hitched when she left. She always looked gorgeous too him, but today she was on a whole other level.
While he loved the soft pastels she usually wore, he couldn’t deny that seeing her in that deep red made him feral. Feitan offered her his arm, which she took without hesitation.
It almost felt… normal the way she held onto him. She wasn’t scared, wasn’t intimidated by his presence. It was still something he was getting used to, but it felt nice to be touched without fear.
“Fei, I didn’t know you were taking me out on a date.” she whispered into his ear. The dark haired man paused for a split second before he continued walking.
“… not a date. Job.”
Phinks rolled his eyes. ‘Yeah sure, Fei.’
(Name) only giggled and kissed his cheek, lingering for a bit before pulling away.
“Mhm.”
Feitan tried to keep his expression neutral, but it wasn’t easy. Her affectionate nature made him both nervous and incredibly happy. It was hard not to smile and give her a kiss back.
The three sat down, (Name) the closest to the stairs. She didn’t pay much attention to the auction, instead reading from a book Feitan swiped from her condo.
“(Name)!?”
(Name) didn’t even process her arm being grabbed until she was pulled into the hallway, being dragged behind someone so fast her feet didn’t touch the ground.
“Why are there here??”
“How would I know?!”
(Name) recognized those voices.
“Gon? Killua, wh-“
They stopped, (Name) having to hold her head from the whiplash. Her two young friends placed her in between them, eyeing her two… older friends that surrounded them.
“Hey, that was rude. No need to run away with our little lady.”
Killua’s grip on her arm tightened, they two boys staring at her.
“Don’t worry, you hand her over and we won’t kill you.”
(Name) blinked. “Kill? Why would you kill them, they’re my friends.”
Phinks and Feitan blinked, the four staring at each other.
The four were slowly starting to piece some things together, (Name) still holding her head. “Ugh… boys, what is going on?”
Feitan sent Killua and Gon a look, telling them they needed to stay quiet.
‘Does she not know these are the people we’ve been fighting against?’ Killua thought, pulling her a little closer. ‘Are they using her or something? No, Feitan’s aura is almost surrounding her, as if he’s protecting her…’
(Name) began to wobble away. “Listen, I gotta go throw up, don’t kill each other. That means you, Fei and Killua.”
Feitan watched as she left, barely able to keep himself from accompanying her so she didn’t fall and hurt herself.
————————
(Name) sat on the counter in the bathroom, sighing. She’d felt sick, but hadn’t thrown up. She didn’t want to think about the implications of all of her friends knowing each other and potentially being enemies. It made her head spin.
When she heard a knock on the door, she hopped off the counter and walked out. Feitan greeted her with a nod of his head.
“Your friends… lots of trouble.”
He didn’t want to know if she knew the chain user, knowing that she was still processing a lot of information from the last few days.
“… you didn’t hurt them, right?”
Feitan shook his head. “Didn’t, not worth it.”
She frowned. “Does that mean you would hurt children if it was worth it?”
He knew he messed up when he met her eyes. She was looking at him with a mix of disbelief and disgust.
“… didn’t say that. Not normal children, anyways.”
She seemed to accept his answer with a sigh. “You shouldn’t hurt any children, Fei. It’s not right.”
(Name) pulled het purse to her chest and walked towards the entrance of the Auction Hall.
“Where you going?”
“To check on a friend. I’ll be home later tonight.”
Although she accepted his answer, she still wanted to talk with Gon and Killua later to make sure they were alright. But before that, she needed to see Kurapika.
Feitan didn’t stop her, only watching her walk away with a sigh. Phinks patted his shoulder. “Smooth. You know, sweet women like her don’t take too kindly to people that hurt kids. You’ll need to be on your best behavior, Fei.”
The dark haired man pushed Phink’s hand off his shoulder. “Whatever…”
But Feitan couldn’t shake how his body shook when she looked at him like that. It terrified him to think she might see him as the monster he could be one day, instead of the Feitan she saw.
‘Her sweet Fei, is what she called me. I want to be that…’
He followed his friend back to the auction hall.
“Going to steal extra copy for her.”
“Of course you are.”
179 notes · View notes
debbiechanclub · 2 years ago
Text
I'll Be Honest (Looking at You Got Me Thinking Nonsense), Part 1
A “Take My Hand, Wreck My Plans” fic
Pairings: Kyle Fletcher x OFC with a little bit of ZSJ x OFC (also references to past!Jay White x OFC and past!El Phantasmo x OFC) ; Will Ospreay x OFC and past!Robbie Eagles x OFC (it's all here, folks!) Word Count: 4,829 Warnings: Alcohol use, language, angst
Nellie hasn't seen Kyle in two months. And despite previous experience to the contrary, she realizes that absence still can make the heart grow fonder.
TMHWMP Timeline | Masterlist
Read it on AO3
tag squad: @aussiearrow @cowboyslariat @knifepervert @sldghmmr @rusevday @missbrownstone @meteora-fc @bec0m @thatgirlforever5 @rocca09 @adriii-omega
Saturday, November 13, 2021 Tokyo, Japan
After being forced to immediately tap out for a second time, Nellie was reminded why she simultaneously loved and hated training with Zack: she learned a lot, but he brought out her competitive streak in the worst way.
“You suck,” she breathed as he released her from the hold.
“Oh, don’t be like that, darling,” Zack smirked. “Thankfully, you don’t have to beat me to make the final tomorrow.”
Nellie rolled her eyes.
“No, but I’ll beat you if we don’t make it because you maimed my partner’s arm,” Torrance piped up from the ring apron. It made Taichi laugh, but Zack waved her off.
“Nell can handle it,” he said. He offered her his hand, and she took it and he pulled her up from the mat. Tomorrow, Nellie and Torrance would have the most important match of their short tag team career when they would face off against Mayu Iwatani and Rin Kadokura in the Block A final of the Goddesses of Stardom Tag League, and hopefully go on to the tournament final to earn a shot at the Goddesses of Stardom Championship. And because it was the biggest match of their tag team career thus far, Nellie figured why not enlist the best tournament tag team she knew in Dangerous Tekkers to help prepare her and Torrance.
“We have been going at it a few hours, though; I don’t want to push you too hard,” Zack said. “Is there anything else you want to go over?”
He looked between Nellie and Torrance, who looked between each other. “I’m good if you are,” Nellie said. Torrance agreed.
“Yeah, I’ve done enough sparring with Zack to last me a while.”
Zack grinned. “A bit more intensive than sparring with Robbie, is it?”
“Oi! I know you’re not talking shit.”
Robbie Eagles appeared almost as if Zack had summoned him. Nellie looked at Torrance again in surprise. But apparently, she hadn’t known Robbie would show up, either.
“What’re you doing here?” she asked him. “Don’t you need to be at Korakuen soon?”
“Yeah, but I thought I’d stop by on the way over, see how it’s going,” Robbie answered.  “And I walk in to hear Zack sullying my good name as a trainer.”
Zack shook his head. “No, mate, not as a trainer; just as a wrestler in general.”
Taichi laughed. Torrance did too and tried to hide it. Robbie gave Zack a flat look. “Fuck off,” he said, and then to Torrance and Nellie, “Are you packing up?”
“Oh, yeah,” Torrance answered. “I need a hot shower and a nap after what they just put us through.”
“As I said,” Zack commented, “more intensive than with Robbie.”
Robbie ignored him. “Are you not coming to the show?” he asked. But Torrance didn’t even need to think about her answer.
“Hell no. Taiji and Riley will both be there; you know I don’t like how they get around each other.”
The mood took an awkward turn then; so awkward, that Taichi took the opportunity to leave, waving to everyone as he went. But Torrance had a point: Robbie knew better than anyone, even Nellie, how Riley and Ishimori’s influence on each other’s behavior had played a part in Torrance and Ishimori’s break-up. He’d witnessed it firsthand during the brief period his and Riley’s time in Bullet Club had overlapped, and he’d been one of Torrance’s closest confidants after she’d left Ishimori. More than confidants, actually. But that had changed after Torrance and Nellie’s trip to London two months ago.
“We’re getting dinner and probably both having an early night,” Nellie said for Robbie’s sake more than Torrance’s. He looked like a wounded puppy, and she couldn’t take it. “Big day tomorrow, and all.”
Robbie nodded. “No yeah, I get it,” he returned. “I know you two will kill it.”
Another awkward silence started to creep in, and Torrance took it as her cue to exit. “Well, I’m gonna go; thanks again, Zack.” She looked at Nellie as she started to backpedal away. “I’ll text you later.”
“Yeah, see you,” Nellie said, and Torrance retreated into the locker room.
Zack tutted. “That was brutal, mate,” he said to Robbie. “I feel bad for calling you a shit wrestler now.”
Robbie gave a wry laugh. “Thanks. Well, good luck tomorrow, Nell. I’ll see you guys later.”
“Yeah, good luck tonight,” Nellie told him, and he waved and went back toward the exit.
“Are he and Torrance not a thing anymore?” Zack asked once Robbie was out of earshot.
Nellie sighed. “It’s complicated. I don’t know if they ever really were a thing, to be honest.” She grabbed her water bottle and phone from where she’d set them on a chair nearby. “But I’m gonna head out, too.”
“Hold on—Robbie reminded me,” Zack started, and Nellie paused to look at him. “Taichi was wondering if you’ll be accompanying us at all for World Tag League.”
Nellie’s mouth went dry. Admittedly, she’d been wondering the same herself, and with the annual tournament starting up tomorrow, she’d half-expected Zack to ask now that they were finally in a good place with each other again. And, unless she was imagining it, Nellie thought she saw a glimmer of hope in his eye that her answer would be yes.
But she couldn’t give him that. “I don’t know,” she uncertainly returned. “I mean, I’m not even in Suzuki-gun anymore, am I?”
It was more statement than question. As much as Nellie had liked to believe she’d been a full-fledged member of Suzuki-gun, she’d always felt like more of an affiliate, only there because she was with Zack; more included than Miho, but still less than everyone else. And so, when she and Zack had broken up, the tie had been severed—and it had taken him and Nellie a while to learn how to be just friends. She’d been a ghost in the weeks and months following their break-up, not attending a single NJPW event until she’d gotten together with Jay, and even then, she’d remained backstage. Wouldn’t it be out of line for her to just show up again after more than a year and a half away?  
“It’s not Suzuki-gun, it’s Tekkers,” Zack reasoned. “And Taichi wouldn’t have mentioned it if he didn’t want you there.”
“What about you?”
The question came out before she could stop it, and she fidgeted, anxious. Zack’s eyes softened once more.
“I would like to have you out there with us again, yeah. We make a good team, Nell… platonically or otherwise.”
Nellie’s phone suddenly buzzed in her hand, and she looked down. It was a text, and the name on the screen made her stomach flip for a whole separate reason other than Zack hinting that maybe he was over just being friends.
“I don’t know, I’ll think about it,” she noncommittally returned; and then, like Taichi and Torrance minutes before, she hurried to leave. “Good luck tomorrow, though,” she offered. Zack sighed inaudibly.
“Yeah, thanks,” he said, and Nellie waved and headed off, unlocking her phone to respond to Kyle’s text as she went.
* * * *
Hours later, Nellie sat across from Torrance at their favorite greasy burger joint and downloaded her on her brief conversation with Zack—and Torrance’s assessment was decisive. 
“Oh, he’s totally looking in the rear view hoping objects are closer than they appear.”
Nellie nearly choked on her drink.
“Seriously,” Torrance went on. “He sees you single again living your best life and now he wants you back.”
She shot Nellie a look that challenged tell me I’m wrong. Nellie sighed.
“I don’t know. You remember that night I talked to him after we had those tarot readings… he said it was inevitable we’d break up.”
“And now he knows he put his foot in his mouth,” Torrance returned. She smirked. “You and Zack are soulmates; your tarot reading said so.”
Nellie’s expression went flat. “And you thought Robbie was the Knight of Cups.”
Torrance visibly paused. “Okay, fair,” she admitted. “But all that aside, are you thinking of doing World Tag League?”
The corners of Nellie’s mouth turned down in thought. Part of her did miss accompanying Dangerous Tekkers to the ring; she’d had a lot of fun being an extra obstacle for their opponents throughout the 2018 and 2019 World Tag League tournaments. But a bigger part of her knew it wouldn’t be the best idea for her to participate this year.
“I don’t think so,” she decided. “Weirdness between Zack and me aside, I have enough on my plate with Stardom and RevPro already. Plus, Juice and Finlay aren’t in the tournament this year, and I always have the most fun fucking with them.”
Torrance smirked. “You’d do it in a heartbeat if Aussie Open were in it.”
Nellie didn’t want to smile, but she couldn’t help herself. “Probably.”
“Are you excited to see Kyle next weekend?”
Nellie paused. Again, she didn’t want to admit it. And yet, “I really am.”
Torrance grinned wide. “I knew you were, I just wanted to hear you say it.”
Nellie gave her the side-eye as she took another drink. But she couldn’t deny it—she was excited to see Kyle again. This was the longest she’d been away from England since she’d won the RevPro Undisputed British Women’s Championship, and she and Kyle had never talked more. Texts, video calls coordinated around the time difference between Tokyo and London… a cheeky photo here and there. It wasn’t often that they didn’t send each other good morning and goodnight. And, terrifyingly, Nellie was starting to wonder if she wanted to tell everyone else to lose her number.
“So, are you gonna do more than just make out and cuddle with him this time?” Torrance asked.
Nellie sighed. “Why did I know you were gonna ask that?”
“Because you know you need to get dicked down,” Torrance returned. “Exorcise the ghost of Jay.”
Nellie laughed out loud. “Thanks, now I’m just thinking of Kyle’s dick like it’s some sort of holy instrument.”
“Maybe it is, you don’t know,” Torrance returned. “He could give you a religious experience.”
For the second time, Nellie nearly choked on her drink. “Anyway,” she segued once she’d recovered, “speaking of next weekend… are you gonna make it official with Will?”
Torrance went quiet and, when she didn’t answer after a few seconds, Nellie started to worry. But then she said, “Yeah, I think so.”
Nellie breathed out. “Thank God. You need to put Robbie out of his misery. I felt like I needed to take him out back and shoot him when you told him you weren’t going to the show tonight.”
“Well, I don’t know why he even asked!” Torrance proclaimed. “And I don’t know why he thinks there’s still a chance of there being anything between us, either.”
“Probably because he knows exactly how quickly you can change your mind.”
Torrance frowned at her. “Jeez, Nell, just come for my jugular.”
“I’m just being honest,” Nellie returned. “You know I thought you and Robbie would’ve been good for each other, but I also know neither of you could get out of your own way, so I don’t really blame you for jumping ship as soon as Will came along with clear intentions for what he wanted. But the sooner you make it crystal clear to Robbie that you’re with Will, the better.”
“I know, I will,” Torrance returned. “Actually, Will and I FaceTimed after I got home from training, and I almost wanted to say fuck it and make it official then. But I know I’d rather do it in person.” She drained the last of her drink and set the empty glass down on the table. “I don’t feel like going home yet,” she suddenly decided.
“I don’t either, actually,” Nellie agreed.
“Well, let’s go get a drink or two somewhere,” Torrance said. “We’re on a tag team run no one expected; we deserve to celebrate a little.”
“A little being the operative phrase,” Nellie stressed. “We need to be able to function tomorrow.”  
“I know,” Torrance assured. “Like I said—just a drink or two.”
* * * *
Nellie should have known a drink or two would turn into three or four, and before she knew it, it was after midnight. But she was beyond worrying about being able to function for tomorrow’s match. It was late afternoon in London, and halfway through her third drink, Nellie hadn’t been able to stop herself from texting Kyle anymore. And, as inebriated texts so often went, the more they texted, the more risqué the messages became.
This isn’t fair, Nell. I haven’t seen you in two months and you’re teasing me with a week still left until you’re here. It’s cruel and unusual punishment.
Nellie bit back a grin as she responded. Do I need to send you something to tide you over?
“How’s Kyle?” Torrance asked with a knowing smirk.
“Fine,” Nellie returned; no more, no less. But then her phone pinged again.
Are you implying there’s something to tide me over for?
Heat rose in Nellie’s core, and she considered just telling him yes. But there was no fun in that. Maybe if you’re good, she typed back.
Kyle’s reply was immediate and simple. Fuck, Nellie.
Nellie grinned across the table at Torrance. “Do you think I should tell him you said his dick might be a religious experience?”
“What?” Torrance coughed. Rather than explain, Nellie just showed her her phone. When she was done reading, she let out a loud burst of laughter. “That’s up to you. But maybe you should send him something to tide him over, because the poor boy clearly isn’t gonna make it another week.”
Nellie laughed; but she looked back down at her phone in thought .
“You’re going to, aren’t you?” Torrance guessed.
“Maybe?” Nellie admitted. She was surprised at herself. “Jesus, I’ve never sent anything like that to anyone I wasn’t in a relationship with, but Kyle has me acting strange.”
Torrance smirked. “Religious experience,” she reiterated. “But also—you’ve sent Zack nudes?”
“That’s your takeaway here?” Nellie laughed.
“Yes!” She gasped in realization. “Did he send them to you?”
“Seriously?”
“Well! It’s hard for me to imagine Zack sending dick pics.”
“Are you trying to?”
Torrance’s eyes widened. “Okay, I’ve been drinking. That’s my excuse.”
“Uh huh,” Nellie returned. “I’ll be sure to tell Will that you’ve brought up both Kyle and Zack’s dicks in conversation.”
“In relation to you!” Torrance defended.
Nellie grinned; but it morphed into a yawn. “Okay… I think I’m ready to head out. It’s almost one, and drinking any more would be a bad idea.”
“And you want to get home and send Kyle a little something.”
Nellie didn’t justify that with a response. “I’m gonna go pay my tab,” she said. She reopened her messages with Kyle as she walked to the bar.
We’re heading out now. FaceTime when I get home?
I’ll be impatiently waiting, Kyle replied.
“Nellie!”
She stopped in her tracks. The sound of that voice threw her; she hadn’t heard it in months. But she turned toward it and did her best to pull her face into a smile when her eyes met Riley’s at the other end of the bar.
“Fancy meeting you here!”
He pulled her into a hug that Nellie robotically returned. Under different circumstances, she wouldn’t have been at all nervous to see Riley. But this was the first time she’d seen him since she and Jay had broken up, and she knew it would only be a matter of time before they’d have to address the elephant in the room.
“Don’t you have a big tag match tomorrow?” he asked. “Well, later today, I guess.”
“Ishimori isn’t with you, is he?” Nellie blurted, and she didn’t fully realize she had until Riley looked at her funny. “Torrance is here, too,” she explained with a glance back at their table, but it was empty. Torrance must have gone to the bathroom.
“Ah,” Riley nodded in understanding. “No, he’s not. Robbie isn’t here, is he?”
Nellie blinked. The question was a stark reminder of just how estranged Torrance had become from most of Bullet Club. “No. He and Torr aren’t a thing anymore.” She just left it at that. Riley didn’t need to know anything else.
“Well, thank God for that,” he breathed. Nellie pursed her lips, but Riley had already moved on. “You want a drink? It’s been a while.”
“Oh,” she fidgeted and glanced at the bartender who’d walked over to them. “We’re actually heading out. Like you said—big tag match tomorrow.”
“Oh; yeah, of course,” Riley said. There was an audible note of disappointment in his voice, and it almost made Nellie decide to stay for just one more round. But then the bartender asked Riley what he wanted and took Nellie’s name to run her tab. It was an awkward few seconds before Riley spoke up again.
“Hey, I know this is late, but… as much as I love Jay, he’s a fucking idiot.”
There it was, like finally ripping off a Band-Aid. Nellie frowned at him. “It’s been three months, Riley. You don't need to try to make me feel better.”
“I know, but I haven’t seen you since you two broke up,” he pointed out. “Have you not talked to him at all?”
She shook her head. “Not really. He’ll like an Instagram photo every now and then and throw me completely off-guard, but that’s about it. Why? Has he said anything to you?”
She knew Riley had seen Jay—they’d taped multiple episodes of NJPW Strong together over the last month—and she couldn’t help but wonder. Had Jay asked about her? Had he seemed at all regretful, as confused and sad about how things had ended between them as she still sometimes felt during quiet nights alone in her bed? As much as she wanted to know, Nellie wasn’t sure what she wanted the answer to be.
But Riley bobbled his head. “A little. I don’t know; I got the sense he felt awkward saying too much to me because he knows we’re close.”
Nellie laughed a bit at that. “Okay, but not closer than you and him are.”
“You don’t think so?” He sucked his teeth in disagreement. “I don’t know. I mean, we used to fuck.”
She snorted through her nose; but even though it was tactlessly made, he had a point. Nellie’s connection with Riley had always been special, in its own way. He’d been the first person to make her feel welcome when she’d left home to work for RevPro, nervous and alone and abroad for the first time. And yeah, at first maybe it had only been because he’d wanted to get in her pants, but they’d forged a genuine friendship—a friendship that might have been more, once upon a time. But Riley hadn’t been able to pull his head out of his ass, and so Nellie had moved on. And even though he’d acted cool about it, even a bit uncaring, when she’d started dating Jay a couple years later, Nellie had always gotten the sense that Riley was a bit wounded by their relationship, deep down. She knew some part of him still carried a torch for her. Some part of her still carried one for him, too. And then her lips tingled with the memory of something they shouldn’t have done, and she realized how close they were standing to each other, and the next words blurted out of her mouth like nervous vomit.
“I’ve sort of been talking to someone.”
Riley cocked his head at her, clearly surprised to hear it. “Who?”
Nellie hesitated. “Kyle Fletcher,” she mumbled. Riley didn’t hear her.
“Who?”
“Kyle Fletcher!” she loudly repeated—and Riley’s reaction was about what she expected.
“Kyle Fletcher?” His eyes practically bugged out of his head. “That twink Australian kid I used to live with? Isn’t he like, twenty?”
“Twenty-two,” Nellie firmly corrected. “He’ll be twenty-three next month. And he’s not a twink anymore, either.”
The bartender returned with Riley’s drink and her bill, and Nellie was grateful for the interruption. She should’ve just kept her mouth shut. Riley knew Kyle, really well—they’d lived together in England when they’d both moved there from opposite corners of the globe with a shared hope of making it in the business of pro wrestling. In fact, Nellie had first met Kyle not at RevPro, but during one of the occasions she’d spent the night with Riley. It made the current situation more than just a bit ironic.
“Man, you really like keeping it in my social circle, huh,” Riley commented.
“Oh fuck off, it’s not intentional,” she returned. “And it’s my social circle, too!”
“I know; I’m just giving you a hard time,” he said. “But it’s just a rebound, right?”
The question caught Nellie off-guard. She honestly hadn’t thought about whether Kyle was just a rebound or not. But the way Riley had asked—so assumptive, almost dismissive —made her feel suddenly defensive of Kyle. She almost wanted to tell him no, he’s not just a rebound.
“Why do you say it like that?” she returned.
Riley didn’t hesitate. “Because he’s twenty-two.”
Nellie rolled her eyes.
“I’m not judging!” he quickly added. “Do what you want with who you want, it’s none of my business. I just want you to be happy, Nell. I still don’t like that Zack broke up with you after you moved across the fucking world with him, and then Jay basically abandoned you. You deserve better than that. So, if Kyle’s making you happy, then by all means, fuck that twink’s brains out.”
“He’s not,” Nellie started to repeat, but she let it go with a sigh. “Thanks for the blessing though, I guess? I don’t know; I kind of figured you’d take Jay’s side. Not that there’s sides to take, but…”
She trailed off, leaving it at that. But Riley shook his head.
“No, I’m not taking sides. But for what it’s worth, if I had been in Jay’s position, you wouldn’t be talking to Kyle Fletcher right now.”
“Sorry, there was a line for the bathroom.” Torrance appeared not a moment too soon. She gave Riley a tight smile. “Hey; welcome back.”
“Hey; thanks,” he said. “Don’t worry, Ishimori isn’t here.”
Torrance’s brow puckered. “I wasn’t worried about it,” she dismissed. “We’re leaving, anyway.”
With that, she moved up to the bar on Nellie’s other side to ask for her bill. Nellie looked awkwardly back at Riley. She had to say something to cut the tension.
“So, first night of BOSJ… did you win your match?”
Riley rolled his eyes. “No. I tried to do the One Winged Angel, but Wato countered it and stole the pin.”
“What?” Nellie couldn’t help the way she laughed. “The One Winged Angel? Come on, Riley.”
“What?” he returned. “I was just trying to pay homage to one of Bullet Club’s best.”
Nellie just shook her head and rolled her eyes. She’d never really understood Riley’s antics. It was another reason she knew they wouldn’t have worked out as anything more than what they’d been.
“Ready?” Torrance came to stand next to her again. Nellie nodded.
“Yeah.” She looked back at Riley. “Well, good luck in the rest of the tournament. But maybe try sticking to your own moveset from now on?”
Riley rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. See you later.”
Nellie waved to him, and she and Torrance turned and left the bar. “What was that about?” Torrance asked as they pushed out the doors into the chilly autumn night.
“He tried to pull off the One Winged Angel,” Nellie explained.
“Ha!” she burst. “As if he could.”
* * * *
I’ll be home in five minutes, Nellie texted Kyle from the backseat of the Uber taking her home.
Okay :) Call when you get settled.
She smiled at the screen. Something about him using that style emoji warmed her heart.
The Uber pulled up to her apartment complex just over five minutes later, and she walked a little bit more quickly than normal, eager to get inside and settled. She rushed through her nighttime routine, too, brushing her teeth, washing her face, and applying her night cream before she changed into a soft pajama set and climbed into bed, phone in hand. She grabbed her charging cable and plugged it in, got comfortable, and called Kyle.
He picked up halfway through the second ring. His smile lit up her whole room even from thousands of miles away. It always did. “There’s my future tag team champion.”
Nellie grinned. “Don’t jinx it! We still have to win our block final before we even get to the tournament final.”
“I’m not jinxing anything!” he confidently proclaimed. “Next time I see you, you and Torr will be the number one contenders to the Goddesses of Stardom Championship. And I’m not just saying that to flatter you, by the way; I really believe it.”
Fuzzies warmed Nellie’s stomach. “Well, I am flattered, so thank you. That means a lot coming from you.”
“Well, you’re a great wrestler, Nell, genuinely,” Kyle returned. “You wouldn’t be the Undisputed British Women’s Champion if you weren’t—a two-time Undisputed British Women’s Champion, might I add, and the only American to hold the belt. And I know you’ll successfully defend it at Uprising next week, and then when you and Torr win the Stardom tag titles, we’ll be double champions together and take over the world.”
She laughed. “Oh really? That’s not a prediction, it’s a spoiler, is it?”
“I’m manifesting it,” he confirmed. “And when it happens, you might as well just join United Empire.”
“There it is,” Nellie smirked.
“Well, there’d really be no reason for you not to join, would there?” he rhetorically asked. “I mean, you already look good in green.”
Her stomach fluttered again. “You make a compelling argument.”
A corner of Kyle’s mouth quirked up. “I’ll try to make it even more compelling next weekend.”
With that single statement the tone of their conversation shifted from being playful to something deeper. There was desire in the way Kyle had said it; Nellie could see it in his face, sense it through the screen. It emboldened her to be upfront with him about how she’d been feeling, even if it scared her.
“Can I be honest?” she asked.
“I hope you would be,” he returned.
“I wish you were here.”
It was silly how nervous she was to admit that to him. But it was true. Nellie hadn’t felt this sort of schoolgirl giddiness toward anyone since Zack. With Riley it had just been about sex; any deeper connection they could have fostered was stifled by his complete emotional ineptitude. Then with Jay, everything had been so fast, so hot and then suddenly so lukewarm. They’d been in thick of their honeymoon phase when Jay’s loss to Kota Ibushi at Wrestle Kingdom 15 had unexpectedly pushed him over the edge, and even though he and Nellie had come back even stronger from that brief interruption, Jay had left Japan again just three months later, and their relationship was just sort of snuffed out by uncertainty. But these two months getting to know Kyle in a new light had felt more balanced, steadier and more deliberate. And yeah, part of Nellie was ready to admit that she was curious to see where it could go. But another part of her still wanted to guard her heart.
Kyle’s smile put another chink in her armor, though. “I’ve wished I was there or you were here since I woke up next to you the morning after High Stakes.”
Nellie couldn’t help it—she laughed. “Do you just think up lines like that and put ‘em in your pocket to use on girls?”
“Excuse me,” he returned, mocking offense. “It wasn’t a line, thank you very much. But I can understand why you’d think that because of how incredibly smooth it was.”
Another laugh. “It was incredibly smooth; I’ll give you that.”
“But I mean it,” he earnestly added. “And in the interest of being honest, I was honestly a bit disappointed when you told me you and Torr would be competing in the Goddesses of Stardom tournament, because I knew it meant you wouldn’t be back in England for a while. But at the same time, I was happy because you two absolutely deserve this shot and all the recognition that comes with it. But that being said… next weekend cannot get here fast enough, because all I’ve been thinking about for the last week is seeing you again.”
A wide grin broke out over Nellie’s face; a giddy schoolgirl, a million butterflies. Kyle had her acting strange—but she was more than willing to go along for the ride.
“Same,” she told him. “Next weekend definitely can’t get here fast enough.”
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wavesoutbeingtossed · 5 months ago
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My spicy take is that joe did notice how badly she was doing but just didn’t care enough to change anything about his behavior and was willing to coast on her anxiety and trauma responses bc they benefited him. Fucker. (It would be 100% speculation based on nothing other than vibes to take it further than that, but I also get a feeling that he sort of enjoyed the way that she crumpled. Something thrilling about reducing the most famous woman on earth to a crying mess that practically begged for his attention...)
Respectfully, I am not comfortable making those kinds of statements about him. I’m not saying anyone else can’t or shouldn’t or draw their own conclusions. I’m just saying I’m going based on what Taylor’s said in her music and reading between the lines and inferences from other things, and that’s not what I’m picking up about him.
I definitely think based on the music (and sound bites from interviews) that there was willful ignorance happening on his part, but I genuinely don’t know if that falls under the spectrum of deliberately hurting someone. My gut reaction is that no, it isn’t, but it is a bit of a spectrum. (As in, it’s actually hurtful and wounded her deeply, but maybe wasn’t intentional on his part, the way I think it absolutely was by others.)
Again I’m not 100% comfortable stating anything on main, but from Taylor’s own words, I don’t think she feels that he was getting off on her pain. (I do think there are certain others she feels did, though.) My assumption is that it isn’t that he deliberately contributed to the fears for his own benefit, but more that he was so fucking passive that he ignored Taylor’s pain because he couldn’t understand it and was going through his own shit, and at a certain point she retreated too. (And I’ve seen this happen so many times IRL. It’s like the walk away wife syndrome @taylortruther talked about on her blog a few months ago.) Which doesn’t excuse it and still makes him an awful partner for her, but isn’t quite the same as hurting or humiliating her on purpose.
Obviously I’m open to changing my mind with new information (just like I have over the course of the past year). But for now I can surmise he’s a shitty enough partner by being neglectful and obstinate without adding deliberate manipulation into the fray. I think it’s just that the way they lived served him well and he couldn’t understand why she would want anything different, or at least that’s the story I’m picking up on. I said this in the tags of one of Rae’s posts the other day, but ultimately I think it comes down to neither of them recognizing who the other was anymore these days.
I hope it doesn’t seem like I’m arguing with you! Just offering my own read of the situation.
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the1975attheirverybest · 1 year ago
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I get that it upsets people to think about Matty possibly falling out with someone he was (seemingly) close with, but if I got online and saw people pitying me like that I’d commit a crime. Like you said, it dehumanizes him. He’s so patient and respectful with us, all he expects is the same patience and respect back. He already gives so much of himself to us, through his art and just daily interactions, no one should think they’re entitled to anymore than he’s willing to share. He’s literally talked multiple times about how he struggles with fame and how much the press fucked with him as a child, he was famous before but one month hanging around TS and suddenly he’s everywhere, it’s just sad to think that his own fans are participating in it.
It’s literally just gossip, but if it’s true, it doesn’t concern us. Friendships end all the time, people grow apart, shit happens. If all this TS stuff never happened no one would be questioning why he didn’t make it to the wedding.
It’s also disappointing because he JUST came back to socials. All this shit (starting with the TikTok) starts up and suddenly he’s gone again. Yeah, I’m sure it has to do with the breaks they’ve had and him spending time in LA, but part of me wonders if he just doesn’t feel like interacting with fans online when he doesn’t have to. I know he comes and goes all the time, but either way, he sees all of this bullshit and fans know it. Theories about his personal life should be kept in DMs (or preferably in their heads).
I know people send you dumb shit but you’re one of the few people I’ve seen actually shut it down, or give a logical, reasonable explanation. I’m also loving Reddit right now since the mods delete any speculation about his personal life.
Anyways, this ended up being way too long, and it’s also me being a hypocrite for speculating, but these past few months have been exhausting, I thought it would let up after May. I know he’s a celebrity but he’s not like most celebrities. He interacts with us like we’re on the same level, he willingly spends time in online fan spaces, he goes out his way to make us happy. Sorry for ranting in your inbox, but this all just bums me out.
Yes I strongly agree with this, especially his social media presence because I’ve seen the shit that people tag him in. And it’s insane. He’s got thick skin and a healthy detachment from peoples views of him but he’s still a human being. It can’t always be easy.
I don’t think we appreciate his love for his job and his fans enough. Some days in May were REALLLYYY hard for him. Twice he had to go onstage and perform less than an hour after some nasty articles were being published about him. I love my job and my students more than I love myself. I would do it for free if the university didn’t pay me. But I don’t know if I would be able to keep it together if I were in Matty’s shoes. And sometimes he was the one talking us down. “I’m still here and I love you guys.” “Some people they have people. I have you guys.” C’mon! How does it not feel awful participating in behavior that hurts him or is in any way shape or form harmful towards an artist like that? He’s so good to us and goes above and beyond all the fucking time. And he’s spoken so much about how important it is to him that he connects with people and builds this sense of community cuz it’s a way to combat the doom and gloom of our current state. He’s always open and generous and kind. He’s given stage props to fans. He’s had a fan onstage to play guitar for robbers. He’s played songs that were not on the setlist just cuz people have requested them and he’s humble enough to feel that the show is about the audience not about him, so he will go out of his way to give the audience the best time that he can possibly give. and his own fuckin fans are doing this to him??? Unacceptable. and I’m so tired of it. This fandom is way better than this. We never used to do this kind of thing. We should cut this shit out before it becomes permanent.
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dms-saggicorn · 3 months ago
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I’ve seen you everywhere in the tags :D Question. What media do you consume these days?
A 2nd??? Oh hell yeah! Hey there again Anony!
Dang, I guess I've been a lot more active on the tags lately haven't I? ^^;;
As for media hmmmm it's funny but one thing I have been obsessed with lately for the past few weeks (practically 2 months at this point] is X-men content.
I was always lowkey fascinated with the franchise and its characters ever since I think X-Men evolution? It wasn't anything major but I did admire the characters and have watched some of Evolution the OG cartoon and 2 of the live-action X-Men movies. I even distinctly remember Ms. Marvel was Ms. Marvel before being Captain Marvel YEARS later
So it was safe to say I was a casual fan of them especially the QUEEN THE GODDESS herself Storm <3 but when I heard X-Men 97 was coming out I took account to watch the WHOLE series.
After of course, I watched 97 and you'd think I'd be satisfied with that right? Nah fam.
I then remembered that "Deadpool and Wolverine" was coming out soon. So like a mad woman, I watched all 13 movies when I had some time off.
Aaaaaand as of today I'm gonna see the D vs. W in a little over an hour lmao.
And shit no joke I started watching X-Men Evolution again too! I'm hooked man and who knows? Might end up reading the comics too if my hunger for X-Men knowledge ain't satisfied hahaha
Besides that, a lot of old shows and YouTubers have gotten my attention :3
Other than that I'm on Tumblr or IG (one of my fav IG accounts Chkkn Nugget specially hehe] just scrolling liking reblogging as per usual UvU
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afr0-thunder · 1 year ago
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[Poor Chronicles Pt. 24]
Topics: Wrestling/Savings/Phone/Shopping/Weed/Racism/Work/Housemate Hostility/More Work/“Love”(Lust) Interests/Meet-Cutes/“Love” Triangles [Ending “In shorts”]
I forgot to mention, Saturday, I got home and WOW (Women Of Wrestling) was on the CW. I was so excited. Not only because I haven’t watched professional wrestling (or is it considered amateur?) in YEARS, but because some of these girls were really HOT! It was good though.
Savings: $135 > $140
I have acquired service. I had to leave the store and walk like 30+ blocks back to my house and go into my monthly expenses (more than I thought it would be). There’s a store closer to me, but I told her I’d be back and nearly 3 and a half hours later, there I was. I received almost 2 months of service for the price of one. I was watching Instagram stories with the sound on and my housemate walked into the kitchen looking confused. I locked my phone and spent the rest of the night watching stories and tik toks with the volume lowered. I don’t want to tell her I have service, I considered not giving a fuck, but I don’t want her to further keep track of my expenses. I’ll wait a bit longer.
I stopped at the clothing store. I just wanted to look around. I wanted to get a Chicago White Sox shirt, but I hate white people and the color white was in the shirt. I DID stumble upon this Ralph Lauren Polo sweater. Haven’t seen one I liked since about 2015, it was my favorite color and about $330. I almost bought it too. This one only had a medium and an XL (or 2XL, I forgot). I estimated $80 - $150 before I checked the tag…$138.00. That is almost as much as my savings. I left the store immediately after. I previously said I wouldn’t make any unnecessary clothing purchases, as I haven’t totally debuted my other clothes. I said to myself, “I may get this later. In the coming weeks or months, I want to make sure I will have enough to be ahead in my monthly expenses.”. It may not be there in a month. I’ve decided to get it after my next pay. A Christmas gift to myself. I haven’t gotten many in the past 6 years. Maybe a couple in 2020. This will affect being ahead in December’s monthly expenses, so I will be having mostly (or only) ramen noodles in the coming weeks. It has all the colors of my new color theme, but it has a small bit of orange (which indirectly relates). I hate it still, but something told me, “One of your bitches will think it’s cute…”.
This may also halt my return to smoking weed, unfortunately.
My managers and some coworkers keep asking what I spend my money on. I think my head coach keeps wondering since I told her I never leave home really. I also lost a lot of weight in June/July when I started dieting because I quit my daily 120+ push ups a few months earlier. I think they thought my increase in pay at the time meant I was doing drugs. ONLY reason I dislike the job, the subtle racism of my head and assistant coach. I started being scheduled less after. NOW, I bring it up because every time a shift I try to pick up gets denied, someone asks about what I spend my money on. I think they think I’m a drug dealer, but I’m not clearing up SHIT! Fuck that.
I made some nachos (with Doritos) last night. After I made Bowl 3/3, my housemate said, “Mmm, what’s that? It smell gooood!”. I was thinking, “Bet it do smell good bitch, but it don’t smell like the Wi-Fi back on. Seeing as though I had to get cell phone service today.”. I just let it go. I may not be cooking again soon though. Nothing major. Ground turkey mixed with jarred salsa con queso. Looked like chili, pissed. Maybe I needed more cheese so it was more yellow and thicker, but at least the queso was warm. Still responding to the hostility.
Worst day of my life was Friday. I found out my favorite coworker smokes cigarettes. My next favorite coworker, who I said I could never fuck because her attitude sucks, asked me if she should quit today. I told her I would come to her house everyday and make her come back…I don’t even know where she lives, but I’m serious.
The manager, who I said I could never fuck ALSO, looked thick today. First time her ass has caught my attention in a while. I noticed her eyeing me when I was “interviewed”, but caught her flirting with this other guy (now fired) after my 2nd week. Probably because I wasn’t paying her attention. I have deflected compliments for almost a year now (and played dumb). I may throw her a bone (fuck up her life) now.
When I left, I passed this girl who I see every few weeks or so, who works for a non profit organization. She usually asks about my salad (which discontinued one of my favorite ingredients today) that I’m demolishing or makes the quickest 6 second conversation because I don’t stop. She almost starts “flirting”, but I don’t think she has much interracial dating experience (and she’s at work). It almost seems like she doesn’t think her pick up lines will work and gets discouraged. She’s oddly cute though.
I want to talk on the Phone/FaceTime someone(‘s girlfriend), so we can talk about how she hates him and I can leave her on paused while I watch Tik Toks. Or FaceTime me when she’s drunk (I stopped drinking entirely over a year ago). It would be nice if my other phone had service so I don’t have to, but she’ll be fine. I do have a hotspot, but how long would we be on the phone? Preferably long distance, but I don’t drive, so it’s all long distance since almost anyone would be over an hour away. I would do it with my new “favorite” coworker (TBD), D is for “Destroyed”, because every other one has pissed me off, so far, but we’re not close like that.
There’s this other girl (far fetched), but I don’t know her like that and her and her boyfriend are “in love”…my least favorite thing about her. I know she’s interested, but her attachment to him disgusts me. I know it will never end. In the end, I’m not mad. It’s just fucking and I know we click more, but I don’t interfere with those kinds of attachments.
In short, this was supposed to be 4 to 5 paragraphs and I wasn’t even going to post a chronicle today, but I felt that today could provide a great story.
- MH (2023)
[10/23/2023 - 8:59PM]
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therenlover · 4 years ago
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One Last Night In Madripoor (An 18+ Helmut Zemo/Reader Oneshot)
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Synopsis: Baron Helmut Zemo is a lonely, wanted man looking for some fun, you’re a piss-poor bounty hunter in search of a connection before leaving your life of crime behind, and fate has brought you together at a party the likes of which has never been seen before. You only have one night left in Madripoor, so why not take a chance?
Tags: Smut, SoftDom!Zemo, Hook Up, Semi-Public Sex, Drinking, Safe Sex, Explicit Consent, First Meeting, Wall Sex, Blow Jobs, Cunnilingus
Rating: 18+
Warnings: Swearing, Explicit Sexual Content
Word Count: 4200~
This fic has been crossposted under the same title to my AO3!
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Madripoor was a place like nothing you had ever seen.
It wasn’t that the sights were anything special. You could find seedy criminal underbellies lined with neon where the streets ran red with blood anywhere if you looked hard enough. Even the ocean view didn’t do much to set it apart from any other place visually. No, Madripoor’s scenery and architecture weren’t what kept your eyes wide with wonder whenever you found yourself wandering through the winding back-alleys without a purpose. It was the people that kept you around.
Thieves, pirates, and miscreants had been taking shelter at the docks since before anyone there could remember. It was a city borne of the underbelly of society, the people nobody sees, but you saw them. You saw them every day when you stood in the main market waiting for an easy bounty. There were faces everywhere; big and small, tall and short, scarred and flawless. No two people in the streets of Madripoor were ever exactly alike. If you needed to remember someone, their unique face was right there waiting in your mind.
After living on the island for almost 6 months, most people were already cataloged neatly in your mind as friend or foe. This man, though, he was new. He was different.
The night was still young. There was some trouble at the Princess Bar that ended with Selby dead and a few murderers loose in the streets with a price on their heads, but you steered clear. Going after the killers meant going up against hundreds if not thousands of trained bounty hunters and assassins and no amount of money was worth dying over now, not while you were so close to freedom. Instead of chasing your doom, you decided to head to your room, get dressed up, and head out to wherever the music was loudest in search of a place to forget about your problems for the night. The thudding sounds of poorly DJ-ed club remixes led you to Leonardo’s Place. That’s where you found him.
You were two drinks in and sticking close to the wall when he stumbled into your line of sight. What initially caught your eye was his dancing. He couldn’t move for shit. What kept your attention, though, was his face.
There was transience to him, like at any moment someone could bump into him and he would disappear without a trace at their touch. Despite that he was gaudy. Everything about his clothing screamed wealth and fine taste from the thread count of his obnoxious purple turtleneck to the shine on his boots. He was strange, a walking contradiction, and one who had never had the pleasure of gracing your presence or screwing you over in the past. In the simplest of terms, he intrigued you. With nothing left to lose you downed the last of your cocktail and made your way to the gap in the crowd where the stranger had staked his claim. It was game time.
“You come here alone?” You asked. Your voice was barely a whisper above the heavy thrumming of the music.
He gave you a long look up and down before answering as if he were trying to size you up. Something about having his gaze linger on your body made your heartbeat soar. “I’m not looking for company,” His accented tone was gruff but left a sliver of room for reconsideration. You took the chance. What could go wrong?
With as much tact and grace as you could muster you let yourself slip a little closer to him. “What, do I look too expensive for you?” you teased, before backing off with a grin, “Thanks for the compliment, but I’m not here for that. My job is a little more… dangerous.” As you danced, the hem of your dress rode up your thigh just enough to reveal the knife holster in your garter belt. It pleased you greatly to see this handsome stranger do a double-take; that meant he was looking at your upper thigh in the first place. “I just liked what I saw in you… do you like what you see in me?”
Somehow, your little joke had endeared him to you, however minutely. Instead of brushing you off the man paused his jerky dancing for a moment to really take you in. Then, he caved. “Would you like a drink?” He asked.
You smirked. “Who would I be if I turned down a free drink from a handsome stranger,”
He met you in the middle as he offered you his hand. “I never promised it would be free,”
So, the two of you found yourselves at the bar, bodies leaned into each other and away from the rest of the sweltering crowd as the bartender slid you your order. The stranger was drinking a brandy straight while you opted for a sidecar. It was enough alcohol that you were starting to feel pretty buzzed, but you still felt in full control of yourself. You took a long sip before speaking. “So, what should I call you?”
It took him a moment to respond but once he did, he seemed sure of himself. “You can call me Helmut, but Baron is fine as well,”
You cocked up an eyebrow. “Is that a nickname?”
“More of a title,”
He took a drink as you gawked. “Like royalty?”
“Not like. I am,”
Your cheeks flushed. The rational part of your mind was so stunned by the ease with which Helmut lied that it seemed to short circuit completely, leaving you very puzzled and more than a little intrigued. “Well, pardon me, Mr. Baron. What’s royalty like you doing in a place like this?”
“There are plenty of reasons a man like me would have business here. A woman as beautiful as you, though… not so much,” he waved his hand in loose gestures as he spoke, “Why risk your life and beauty for this? A life living in the underground where you cannot so much as dream of seeing the stars?”
You finished your drink in one large swig. It burned down your throat but you relished in the pain. “Not all of us are lucky enough to be born in a place where we can see the stars. Funny enough, though, I’m just about to get out,”
“Is that right?”
“I finally saved up enough money from small jobs to buy my way out from under the Power Broker’s thumb,” Something about the way Helmut smiled at you made you feel safe. It was like you could tell him your worst, darkest secrets and not feel an ounce of fear or guilt. “I’m nothing special here, a small-time bounty hunter, and I kept it that way for a reason. I’m not valuable and I don’t know much. If I just pay my dues and keep the money coming until I can get their claws out of my back, I should be free to leave with a freighter tomorrow morning,”
Helmut was quick to respond. “Ah, travel by freighter. It’s terribly dangerous to be a stowaway, you know? Impossible to predict quite what the seas will be like,”
“Well, that’s just a risk I’ll have to take to get out of here and stop… what was it that you said I was doing? Risking my life and beauty?”
The two of you chuckled as Helmut took one last drink to empty his glass. Then, the conversation stilled. Around you people were alive, gyrating to the music as their pulses thumped to the beat, but it was like they weren’t even there. Instead, your whole being was focused on the strange man in front of you who had stolen away your sensibilities with his cool tone and thick accent. He made you feel alive. No, more than alive. Every color was brighter, every sound was sharper, every sip of your drink was crisper. He was a once-in-a-lifetime man, and this was a once-in-a-lifetime night. Oh, to hell with it!
“I like you, Baron,” you purred, pressing yourself close to him. His breath hitched the moment you touched him. He acted as if it had been a very long time since he was last touched like that. “And I think you like me too. In fact, I think you like me enough that we should take this conversation somewhere a little more private. What do you say?”
He didn’t respond. Instead, his gloved hand made its way around your wrist, and in a moment’s time, he was pulling you across the crowded dance floor towards a small, secluded hallway. You assumed that meant yes.
The instant you made it to the shelter of the shadows Helmut was on you like a man starved. One of his hands was quick to explore the skin just above the hem of your dress as the other pressed against the wall, caging you in and holding you as a more than willing hostage to his affections. He didn’t kiss your face, and you weren’t complaining about that, but he did put his mouth to good use sucking a dark bruise into your collarbone. His ministrations only stopped when a high, keening sound escaped your lips.
“You like that, don’t you, meine kleine schlampe?” he growled through gritted teeth. Something about his tone turned your already weak legs to jelly. The second you went limp in his grip, though, he pulled back. Straightening himself out, he offered you a steadying arm. You took it without hesitation. “I’m terribly sorry to be so rude. I assure you that I am not usually the type of man to hook up with someone on a whim, I’ve simply been… indisposed for many years and haven’t had many opportunities for pleasure, especially not with a woman as beautiful as you,”
His compliment was enough to have you blushing like a schoolgirl. You had killed more people than you could reasonably count, and probably fucked even more, but something about the way Helmut looked and sounded and acted made you feel almost innocent to his advances. He was a drug and you needed to get your fix before he disappeared forever.
“Does that mean you think I’m special?” You asked, all doe eyes with an innocent smile. Helmut ate it right up.
“Yes, schatzi. Very special,”
You hitched a leg up, letting your heel dig into his expensive dress pants and drag him closer to you once again. “First your little slut and now your little treasure? Which one is it, Helmut?”
“And so smart,”
“Move, Baron!”
At your insistence, Helmut was on you once again, leaving a trail of hot, wet kisses down your neck as he fiddled with his gloves, yanking them off and shoving them in his back pocket before he continued. “So demanding,” he chided, and yet he continued to lavish you with affection, his hand climbing higher and higher up your thigh. Your back was pressed flush to the wall now, and you were painfully aware of just how warm Helmut was. He smelled like a rich man’s cologne and yet his skin tasted of cheap soap when you leaned in to give him a bruise of his own.
“You love it,” you replied. He let out a husky laugh.
“I suppose I do,” he chuckled, and then his fingers brushed over your core. Your knees buckled. Helmut kept you upright with his body as he continued to taunt you through your underwear, but he seemed more confident now, almost cocky. “My needy schatzi, have you no patience?”
Your response was breathless; a confession.
“Not with you,”
Something about your words lit a fire in Helmut’s eyes. In an instant he had your leg hiked up while he ground his hardened length against your clothed wetness. Your mind went blank. He felt big. A mindless whimper fell from your lips.
“How do you want me?” Helmut asked. As he spoke he ran a light finger down your elevated thigh. You offered up another whimper. “I’ll need you to use your words and tell me what you want or I can’t give it to you,” His tone had you wet enough that you worried you were dripping.
With a gulp, you managed to fumble out the words. “I’ll blow you first if you promise to fuck me,”
That had him grinning like a wolf. “Perhaps you are my little schlampe, so eager to get down on your knees for me…” And you were. Even on shaky legs, you found yourself happily falling to your knees as the Baron fumbled with his fly. It was only then that you found yourself gazing down the hall towards the cacophony of lights and sounds and people maybe 20 feet away from your hiding place in the shadows. As if he could sense your discomfort, Helmut paused. “Are you alright?”
You nodded quickly. “I just forgot we were out in the open for a second,”
“Do you want to stop? If the location is the problem, I would gladly pause so we can find a new hideaway,” he stopped short, looking down and meeting your heavily lidded gaze, “or perhaps the idea of putting on a show excites you?” Your heart jumped out of your chest. Helmut noticed. “Well, if my little schlampe is so keen on putting on a show, she should get a move on,”
That was your cue to get to work. In a swift motion, you finished unzipping his fly and shifted his boxers, letting his lovely cock spring free. It was a pleasant penis and far as they went, average in length but thick with a leaking purple tip at half-mast. Just looking at it made you clamp your legs together.
Slowly, you gave a tentative lick up the underside of his length. He felt heavy on your tongue in the best of ways. Helmut jerked upward, a man possessed. You couldn’t help but laugh. “It’s been a long time, huh?”
“Less talking, more working little schlam-” you cut Helmut off quickly by taking most of his length into his mouth. That seemed to shut him up. His wolf-like grin had dissolved into a slack-jawed mess the second you started to suck him off. Oh, this was going to be fun.
For the most part, the Baron let you set the pace, bobbing your head and taking as much of his length as you comfortably could, but after a short while his hands were buried in your hair as he fought the urge to buck into your throat, hard. With a particularly rough snap of his hips, Helmut pulled away.
“You are an angel from heaven, schatzi,” he groaned, pulling himself slowly from your mouth as you got your first good deep breath in a while, “but a deal is a deal, and it wouldn’t be quite fair if I got to have all the fun, now would it?” Your breath hitched in your throat. Finally time for the main event.
Helmut was surprisingly gentle with you as he offered you a hand and helped you back up, only pausing to wipe a line of dribble off your chin with his thumb. With anyone else, it would have felt wholly humiliating but with Helmut… well, it did things to you you would rather not admit. You quirked up an eyebrow, though, when he got on his knees in turn, mirroring your past position. “What are you doing, Baron?”
“I simply assumed my sweet schatzi would enjoy a reward for taking my cock so well,” his words had you biting your lip as your cheeks flushed, “now be a good girl and take what I give you. I want to hear those pretty noises you made earlier,” With that, his face disappeared under your skirt. He pulled down your panties and… snickered?
“What now?” you groaned, squirming as his hot breath hit your exposed nub.
“You’re sopping wet,” he replied. Out of habit, you moved to shut your legs but found Helmut’s large hand was holding them open. “I do enjoy being sandwiched between your thighs, but you shouldn’t hide yourself from me. Take your pleasure. You’ve earned it,” That was when he began his assault on your folds.
You had been with plenty of partners over the years, all with varying proficiencies when it came to giving pleasure, but no one had ever made you feel quite as good as Helmut did while you gripped his hair and rode his face with reckless abandon. He always hit just the right spot, alternating between sucking on your sensitive clit and running his rough tongue in sloppy circles against it. In no time flat your pleasure was building toward’s its peak as your knees trembled.
“Helmut,” you squeaked, “Helmut I’m gonna cuuuUUOH!”
You were suddenly thrown over the edge of pleasure as the Baron worked you open with his fingers, pressing that spot inside of you just right. It was a revelation. Nothing would ever compare to him and you hadn’t even fucked yet. Once you had regained some semblance of stability he emerged from his place between your thighs, face slick with your juices, wearing the expression of a cat that got the cream.
“You make such lovely sounds for me, schatzi,” Helmut groaned, rising from his place at your feet and reaching into his pocket. While he fumbled for a condom you took the time to actually remove your panties, lifting one shaky leg at a time before balling them up and tossing them on the ground. You could grab them later. Or not! In all honesty, your ruined undies were the last thing on your mind as your watched Helmut roll the condom onto his proud cock, pumping himself a few times. “Now, are you sure you want this?”
You had never felt more sober in your whole life despite the drinks you’d downed earlier.
“God, yes,”
“Wonderful,”
He caged you into his body once again, lining himself up on your slick folds, and then with a pronounced bite against your collarbone, he was entering you. It wasn’t painful or uncomfortable, you just felt full, like a missing piece of your body had been completed. For the first few thrusts, you were too blissed out to really take note of anything around you, but once you tuned back into the world of the living you realized Helmut was talking. Well, babbling was more like it. He seemed to simply be speaking his stream of consciousness into your ear as he pistoned in and out of you like a madman. There was a jilted rhythm to it, but the abnormality kept you on your toes.
“I won’t be letting you go any time soon, schatzi, and definitely not on some dank freighter like a rat from the gutters. No, you will travel with me. Once I help my friends and slip away from the front lines I can take you anywhere your little heart desires. Paris, Vienna, Australia… Mein Gott, what a sweet cunt,”
Any sane woman, after hearing his sex-drunken musings, would have run. They would have heard the wild ramblings of a madman and left after their little fling was done to never see him again. It was only rational. He didn’t even know your real name. Sane women didn’t run away with strangers claiming to be barons they hooked up with in a seedy club selling stolen Van Goghs in a hub of the criminal underworld.
The only thing was, though, that you weren’t a sane woman.
You were a killer, a child left in the streets to live or die who had scraped themselves together and dragged themselves towards life. So what if the idea of some rich mysterious benefactor with a good dick coming in to save the day sounded fantastic? It was fantastic. Like your own personal version of Pretty Woman. Even if he wasn’t as rich as he claimed to be, being poor and getting dicked down by him was better than being poor and alone.
For just a moment, and with no regrets, you let yourself get lost in the fantasy and just let go.
It was as if Helmut could sense a difference.
“Are you close, little schlampe?” He gasped, letting his thrusts take on a faster staccato rhythm.
You could do little more than moan and nod as he pounded you into the wall. That seemed to be enough for him to get the message, though.
“What a good girl,” he purred. His mouth was so close to your ear, his hot breath tickling the sensitive flesh with each heaving breath he took. As he chased his own climax, he brought a hand between your bodies and rubbed tight, wet circles around your clit. It was already sensitive, your body was only barely recovering from your first orgasm, and yet something about the overstimulation was thrilling, like racing towards an impossible dream. With a shout, you came for the second time, melting into Baron Helmut’s arms as he quickly followed.
The two of you stayed there, slumped against the cool wall and still connected by your dripping sexes, for a few moments, breathing heavy. Surprisingly, you were the first to speak.
“Wow,” you breathed, letting a soft laugh escape your lips.
Helmut returned the sentiment. “You were wonderful,” In a strange moment of intimacy, he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, but then he pulled out, tying off the full condom and tossing it to the ground as he tucked himself back into his boxers and zipped up his fly.
“Are you just gonna leave that there?” you made a gesture towards his litter.
“They have janitors,”
A burbling laugh escaped from your lips. “That they do,”
Back in the main room of the party, the crowd had only grown larger as the night progressed. Nobody had seen you, nor had they noticed your cries as they danced and drank and made merry under the neon lights. You were, for all intents and purposes, invisible at Helmut’s side. Within and without. There was something exhilarating about knowing he was the only one that truly saw you in a room packed with hundreds. It was like something out of a twisted fairytale.
“So…” you broached the subject gently while you pulled down your dress to protect your modesty, “Did you mean what you said back there about Paris and Vienna, or…”
“Oh, you heard that?”
You snickered. “It was pretty hard not to with you breathing in my ear,”
“I apologize,” he leaned against the wall beside you, shoulder to shoulder in the darkness, “but yes, I meant what I said. I-”
Suddenly, from down the hall, a booming voice interrupted your moment.
“There you are!”
“Goddamnit, Zemo, I thought we told you to stay low not hire an escort,”
There, at the mouth of the hallway, stood two massive men. They were obviously displeased, and though their faces were obscured by the lights you could tell you weren’t the one they were after.
They called him Zemo… where had you heard that name before?
Helmut stepped away from the wall with a shrug. “At least I didn’t cause a scene by forgetting to put my phone on silent,”
The larger of the two men stayed where he was, while the other walked to meet the Baron in the middle.
“I swear to God, man, you’ve gotten ten times more insufferable since I learned you were rich.
The Baron shrugged. “It comes with the territory,”
“But you don’t have to be such a jackass about it,”
You felt it was a good time to chime in.
“Thank you so much for that, Helmut, but I think I should give you guys some privacy,” you said, straightening out your dress and walking deeper into the hallway. There had to be an exit somewhere…
“Wait!” When you turned, you found Helmut rushing to meet you. The men in the background looked shocked and almost smug. “Save your money. Meet me out at the airstrip tomorrow afternoon if you feel like seeing me again. If not, know that the Power Broker doesn’t let go of assets cheap, and you just slept with a man with a million dollar bounty, so buying your freedom isn’t an option. If you want to go without me, you’ll have to hitch a ride on a cargo ship but not as a stowaway. Working for your keep is the best way to stay under the radar. Nobody can touch you once you’r-”
You cut him off by pressing a finger to his lips. “I’ll see you at your private jet, Baron,”
He smirked. “So you will,” With as much gusto as a man could muster, he returned to his companions but not before offering one last goodbye. “Farewell, schatzi, until tomorrow,”
As you leaned up against the wall once more, you watched them go with a twinkle in your eye.
“Who was that?”
“None of your business, James,”
“Guys, what the hell did I just step on?”
“I believe that was my used rubber,”
“ZEMO!”
-------
a/n: I hope you enjoyed the filth! I haven’t written for Zemo before, even though I’ve loved him for years, but he’s definitely going into my main rotation now. If you have any ideas, send them my way! I’d love to fill the void, because there just aren’t very many Zemo x reader fics out there. If you enjoyed this, maybe reblog or leave a comment! I’d love to hear your thoughts. Thanks again!
Please do not post my works to any other sites, thanks! <3
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frogtanii · 4 years ago
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iwaizumi was... overwhelmed, to say the least.
the past few days had been such a whirlwind of change that hajime could barely properly process, much less appropriately react to it all, so he behaved much like a zombie, saying yes when prompted, signing papers when told, and packing up what was his entire life for the past 11 months.
wow. iwaizumi collapsed on his bed as he scanned his now barren bedroom. he’d been here for almost a year and yet, all his belongings were in boxes within a couple of days.
hajime couldn’t keep the disbelieving chuckle from escaping his chest as he leaned back on his bed, dark brown eyes trained on the ceiling.
it felt like he’d spent such a large chunk of his life trapped in this house, under the foot of the woman who he thought he’d marry but in reality, he’d been in little leagues longer than he’d been in love.
iwaizumi scoffed and rolled his eyes. yeah, “in love”. it’d been about a week since his whole life started to unravel and he had hardly seen, let alone spoken to meiko throughout that entire time.
over text, she’d sworn up and down that she loved and cared about him but as she passed by him packing his things a few days ago, she’d barely spared him a second glance.
hajime wasn’t going to lie. it hurt. he’d opened his heart up to her, something he didn’t do easily, and she’d taken his trust and used it to twist him into her weapon.
he always believed he was stronger than this — he’d never forget his mother telling him so when he was younger. he had fallen and scraped his knee yet he refused to cry to keep from upsetting his mom. iwaizumi existed to live up to what his mother thought of him but here he was, completely enveloped in meiko’s shit, doing her dirty work and following her bidding like some mutt.
god, toorū was right. he really was her bitch.
“i could hear you thinking from down the hall, iwa-chan.” speak of the devil...
oikawa stood at his doorway, leaning against the frame with a posture that seemed relaxed at first glance but if you looked a little closer, you’d notice the tenseness in his shoulders and the tightness of his smile.
hajime quickly sat up on his bed before motioning for his old friend to enter. “uh, yeah,” he began, his voice cracking a little from disuse, “i have a lot to think about.”
the light haired brunette let out an understanding hum before wandering into the room, sharp observant eyes darting to look at all the empty walls. “looks like you’re all packed.”
“pretty much,” iwaizumi nodded before the room fell into an awkward silence, the two childhood friends completely avoiding one another’s eyes.
“look, i-“
“iwa-chan, i’m-“
they both paused for a moment before bursting into laughter, the sound carrying into the hall and throughout the house.
hajime wiped a few stray tears from his eyes, shaking his head at their awkwardness. “you first, shittykawa.”
toorū gasped in halfhearted mock offense before quickly sobering up, training iwaizumi with a completely serious look. “i’m sorry and before you go on some bullshit, self sacrificing rant, you’re not the only one to blame for what happened to our friendship.”
he sighed while making his way to iwaizumi’s bed, sitting down gently beside him. “i should’ve known better, okay? i shouldn’t have let my jealousy and insecurities get in between us but i guess i got swept up in the attention, yknow? meiko is actually charming when she wants to be.”
iwaizumi nodded in agreement, knowing all too well how compelling meiko could be. the room fell into a more comfortable silence as both boys escaped into their thoughts, questions about the future of their friendship flitting throughout their minds.
“oh!” oikawa was pulled out of his own head at hajime’s exclamation, his eyes moving to observe his friend dig through his pockets to procure a thick white envelope. “here. i’d like you to give this yn.”
all toorū could do was nod, his brain short circuiting at the sight of iwaizumi’s apparent kindness to the woman he tormented for so long. “uh, what’s in it?” he ventured to ask, his soft hands toying with the sealed envelope flap.
a soft chuckle came from across the bed. “don’t be so nosy toorū, just give it to her, yeah?” oikawa rolled his eyes but obliged, the bed creaking as he stood to his feet.
“so... this is it, huh?” it was like the reality of the situation was just now sinking in — they hadn’t been close in a while but iwaizumi was still his best friend and he wasn’t quite ready to let him go.
they’d been through so much together, practically growing up together and now, they’d only see each other on holidays, if even then, and then he’d never be invited to hajime’s wedding as his best man as they’d planned and he also wouldn’t be the coolest uncle/godfather of iwa’s children and—
“fuck no,” hajime scoffed with a bright grin on his face. “thought you were gonna annoy me til the end of time shittykawa. don’t tell me you’re quitting your job now.”
the hidden meaning behind iwaizumi’s words brought tears to oikawa’s eyes and before he could stop himself, he launched his body into iwa’s arms. hajime hesitated, his hands stuttering at toorū’s sides as though he’d forgotten how to hug but the feeling passed, his arms winding around his friend’s lithe waist.
“‘m gonna miss you hajime,” oikawa’s voice came out as a broken whimper, his arms tightening around his shoulders.
iwaizumi hummed instead of responding, too afraid of his voice cracking under the weight of his emotions. they stood there for a moment but the honk of the moving truck outside signaled the both of them of their limited time.
hurriedly, oikawa wiped the tears off his cheeks before waving awkwardly at iwaizumi as he left the room with a friendly, “don’t be a stranger.”
and then he was gone.
toorū finally allowed himself to collapse into sobs on his best friends empty bed, his palms pressing into his eyes as he sat there and just let himself feel.
apparently, he wasn’t crying very quietly because it took only a few moments for you to find him, your soft footsteps alerting him to your presence. oikawa scrambled to wipe away what he knew was an unattractive mixture of tears and snot as you got closer.
you were one of the last people he wanted to see him like this.
“hey,” you whispered, standing a few feet away from him. “um, i know this is probably a bad time but i just wanted to thank you for apologizing? back at the awards show?”
toorū sniffed as he looked up at you with confusion written on his face. “what? you shouldn’t thank me for apologizing. ‘s common courtesy.”
you laughed softly, nodding in agreement. “well, not always. so, thank you.” finished with your piece and not too keen on lingering where you weren’t wanted, you moved towards the door but were swiftly stopped before you got there.
“um, here. it’s from iwa-chan.” you gaped at the thick envelope oikawa was handing you before taking it and opening it, a low curse falling from your lips.
inside the package was a dense wad of cash, more money than you’d seen in months. accompanied with it was a letter, written in beautifully loopy handwriting.
you shut it quickly before oikawa could see, stuffing the envelope deep within your pocket where you could access it alone in the depths of your room.
“do you wanna come eat? last i heard, bokuto and tsumu were doing a cooking competition and i’m sure it’ll be fun to watch.” you were severely thrown off by the money and letter but you were determined to show toorū that you’d accepted his apology and were on your way to making amends.
he gave you a shy nod and trailed behind you to the kitchen, the loud sounds of fire and screaming coming from down the hall. you wanted to focus on the fun and merriment but the envelope was practically burning a hole in your pocket.
later that night, you finally got the chance to open the letter and read it, your former manager’s words bringing tears to your eyes.
dear yn,
i’m probably the last person you expected to hear from. you probably didn’t want to hear from me at all if i’m being honest and i don’t blame you. i know there is nothing i can say that could make up for what i’ve done to you but i’d like to try.
i’m sorry. those words don’t nearly express in and of themselves how truly remorseful i am but they needed to be said. there’s no excuse for how i treated you — not meiko, not my stress, absolutely nothing.
you deserved my common decency and respect and i didn’t give that to you. instead, i abused my position and made your life hell. i’ll never forgive myself for that.
uh, i bet you’re wondering what the money is? i promise i’m not trying to pay you off, it’s just all the money i’ve denied you since you moved here. i have a lot of wrongs to right and this is one of them.
sorry, i’m not very good with words but i just wanted you to know that i’m very sorry for everything that i’ve done. and i’m in no place to make demands or anything but i just wanted to ask if you’d keep an eye on oikawa for me.
he’s strong but he’s also vulnerable. he might be a pain in my ass but he’s my best friend and since i can’t keep him from drowning, i was wondering if you’d do that - not for me but for him.
anyways, this letter is shit but i suppose you get the gist. use the money for whatever you want and if you’re as unselfish as i’ve heard, you don’t owe me anything. you don’t owe me money, kindness, or forgiveness.
take care of yourself,
iwaizumi hajime
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℗ poker face
so... this is it
series masterlist
(●’◡’●)ノ
an - soooo m back :D hopefully this is the last of my mini hiatuses!! this chapter sucked to write but i’m not mad at how it turned out?? pls let me know how i did skjdkd don’t forget to feed me <3333
taglist - if your name is in bold, i cannot tag you
@boosyboo9206 • @geektastic84 • @elianetsantana • @trashy-simp • @infinitebells • @6mattsun9 • @suhkusa • @katsulovee • @kotarosbabygirl • @fucktheworlddude • @insomniacwreck • @calumsfringe • @saltylettuce • @chai-blu • @al3x1ss • @hawksyoongi • @syndellwins • @jooleuuh • @loubells • @kissungjae • @liberhoe • @tetsurocore • @animeoverdosee • @duhsies • @saikishairclip • @afire24 • @premiyagi • @kit-kat428 • @doctorspencereid • @daphnxy • @kyomihann • @maer-333 • @sinoflust19 • @peteunderoos • @peachiikichu • @iidanotlida • @yongboxerrr • @kac-chowsballs • @tanakaslastbraincell • @memorableminds • @risjime • @starry-magicshop • @sugavwara • @smuttyanimeslut • @kiwibirbs-library • @haijkk • @airybnb • @crybabygumi • @iwaisa • @decaffinatedtealover • @notameera • @kawaii-angelanne • @rintarovibes • @urlocalsimp
the rest of the tags will be in the replies!!
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foreverindreamlandd · 3 years ago
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To Be Wanted - Part 4: A Dicey Situation
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Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Plus Size!Reader
Summary: All your life you have wanted to be loved by someone. But when you don’t look like most “beautiful” women, you learn to stop wanting. You’d never expect someone like the amazing, kind, beautiful Bucky Barnes would desire someone like you.
WC: 6.9k
A/N: The one where I get Bucky to play D&D and there’s some fluff at the end. This was both the hardest and most fun part to write so far. I hope you enjoy. :)
Series Masterlist / Series Playlist
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Text Message: Eli and Y/n
E: Y/n, please
I need to talk to you.
-----
Text Message: Bucky and Y/n
B: Hey it’s Bucky. Just wanted to make sure you had my number.
*Y/n liked a message*
Y/n: Thanks! :)
B: Np. See you Sunday. :)
Y/n: Yes! Also, idk if you’re free later today but I’ll be at BAM around 5:30 if you want me to throw more books your way 
Sorry, more letters lol. BAM = Books Are Magic!
If not no worries! Just figured I’d offer
Also happy to just throw some at you on Sunday
B: How about I stop by today and you hand me the books. I’m sure they don’t appreciate being thrown.
*Y/n laughed at Bucky’s message*
Y/n: See, I used to think the same thing, but after befriending a few of them I’ve discovered that they actually prefer being thrown 
They find it ~thrilling~ 
;)
-----
Bucky is too busy smiling at his phone to react in time when Sam swipes it from his hands.
“What the fuck dude!” Bucky jumps up to try and grab it back. Sam on the other hand is grinning like a school boy moving his arms around to avoid Bucky.
“Listen man,” Sam says, “I gotta find out what is causing you to have that shit-eating grin on your face. Now, tell me,” he glances down at the screen, “Who is Y/n?” 
Bucky continues his attempts at retrieving his phone without any luck. “None of your damn business, Sam.”
“Oh yeah? So then you won’t mind if I tag along with you to,” Sam looks back at the messages, “Books Are Magic at 5:30?”
Bucky lunges at Sam and tackles him to the ground, pinning him down at the chest with his metal arm. He uses his right arm to finally grab his phone and jumps up, putting about ten feet from him and Sam to prevent another opportunity at a phone robbery. Sam lays there for a few seconds, chuckling to himself.
“Man, come on,” Sam says as he finally pulls himself up into a standing position. “I’ve been on your ass for weeks to get out there and start dating. Please give me something!”
“It’s nothing, Sam,” Bucky grumbles to himself, gripping his phone with his vibranium hand. “I met Y/n the other day and she has some books to recommend for me. She’s just a friend.” I think.
“Sure, Buck. So talking about books needs to happen today and Sunday?” Sam gives Bucky a mischievous smile.
Buck groans, looking up at the ceiling. “I hate you.”
“You love me.”
“I’d love to punch you in the face right now.”
“Hey man, no need to be so touchy. I’m happy for you! I haven’t seen you smile like that in a while. It’s a nice change of pace from your usual scowl.”
At that, Bucky scowls, and Sam laughs. “See,” Sam says, “That is what I’m talking about! No more of that. Go spend some time with this mysterious Y/n and just let me meet her at some point. I gotta let her know that she’s making a huge mistake before it’s too late.”
“Goodbye, Sam,” Bucky growls, grabbing his leather jacket and heading toward the door to leave his apartment. 
Bucky lives on his own, but with all of the work him and Sam had been doing together this past year, they had become close friends, so Sam was almost always at Bucky’s place, even when Bucky wasn’t. 
It all started a few months back when Bucky asked for Sam’s help to fix up his apartment. There was nothing wrong with it, it was just empty, unlived in. Sam would come by to help build furniture, fix the weird plumbing issues Bucky had never really cared about before, and properly stock up his kitchen with items other than Ramen and beer. He even helped Bucky set up a legitimate “office” area which was essentially a mini Avenger’s HQ that he could work from while at home. It wasn’t anything crazy, but he now had a three-monitor setup with software provided by Sharon that gave him access to any necessary intel or forms of communication when working on missions with Sam and Parker. Software that could also help him track down remaining members of Hydra.  
Sometimes Sam would stick around after work was done to eat pizza, drink beer and watch whatever sports game was on or show Bucky a movie he had missed in the 70 years he was...well, not himself. Bucky would always groan about Sam being around all the time and not leaving him alone, but to be honest, he appreciated the company more than he let on. It was nice to have his home actually feel like a space that Bucky felt comfortable in, and not just a place where he would spend sleepless nights on the floor of his living room. There were still nights that he would sleep on the couch or on the floor, but Bucky was able to get himself to sleep through the night in his new bed a couple of times a week. Baby steps. 
If he was feeling really generous, he would invite Parker over to join them. Just as long as he brought soda for himself. 
He had also finally hung up the beautiful landscape painting of Wakanda that had been sitting in his closet. Another gift from Shuri. In the bottom corner of the painting sat a small cabin (Bucky’s former home) and a couple of goats. A reminder of time Bucky felt the most peace in his life ever. It gave him hope that he might someday feel that type of peace again.
Finally, after all the grumbling from Sam, Bucky eventually caved and let Sam have a spare key to his apartment. Just in case something ever happened and Sam needed access to something ASAP. Or if Bucky was sick of Sam’s shit and wanted to leave his apartment with Sam still in it, which was sometimes much easier than kicking Sam out.
Bucky pauses when he steps out onto the streets and looks down at his hands, which are currently glove-free, exposing his metal hand. He frowns, debating whether to go back inside and grab them before heading to the bookstore.
Well, Bucky thinks, she already knows who I am. Guess there’s no real use in hiding it. 
He stares at the door to his building one last time, sighs, and heads down the street towards the bookstore. Towards you.
------
“So, what was up with you and that handsome man who couldn’t keep his eyes off you the other day?” Stephanie asks, helping you set up chairs.
“Ah, Bucky,” you say, lips quirking up into a small smile. “I had just met him that day. He kind of….saved my life.” Stephanie stares at you questioningly. “Long story,” you say, “But yeah, I guess he liked Cerulean Sea. I mean, obviously, how could you not? So he’s stopping by in a few to grab another book.”
“Oh?” Stephanie asks, her eyebrows raising to the top of her head. “Just coming by to get some books? Has nothing to do with seeing you?”
“Steph, stop,” you groan. You grab your bag and start taking out your hoard of dice. “Everyone keeps making this a bigger deal than it really is. Bucky is just a new friend. It’s not like that.”
“Y/n, you must have been missing what I saw on Sunday. The way he was looking at you. The way he smiled when you smiled, frowned when you frowned. There was a tension between you that was so….magnetic. It has to be more than friendship.”
“Listen, Stephanie, I appreciate you saying that. But I don’t want to make it into something it’s not. It’s never going to go that way because it’s me and-”
“And what does that mean?” Stephanie stands straight, putting her hands to her hips.
You pause, closing your eyes for a moment and then look back at her. “Look, you saw him, right? He’s a freaking 15 on the beauty scale. At best, I’ve only been like a…6.”
Stephanie stares at you for a few seconds, a look of pain on her face. “Y/n….what-”
“And it’s just easier to focus on that and not let my brain come up with these crazy scenarios of it being something more. I mean, before I knew who he was and he knew who I was, I loved fantasizing about the idea of being with Bucky Bar-....someone like him. That he would want me. But this is real life. There’s no way he does. No one does. I’m tired of getting my hopes up just to be rejected again and again.” You can feel the sting of tears in your eyes, but you quickly shake your head in an attempt to hold them off.
Stephanie is about to say something, but then pauses and looks over your shoulder. You turn and see Bucky coming through the front door of the store, looking around the space in search of something.
You.
You turn back to Stephanie and her gaze meets yours. “We will talk about this later,” Stephanie says quietly. She walks toward you and pulls you in for a hug and holds you for a moment. After giving you one final squeeze, she walks up the stairs, out of the kids section and toward Bucky.
“Hey, Bucky,” she says, smiling. “Y/n is in the children’s section toward the back.”
Bucky gives her a small smile and heads over to the back of the store. His smile widens when his eyes find you standing by a table in the middle of the room with seven chairs around it. Your gaze meet his, and although you had just told Stephanie that you refused to allow yourself to dream, seeing that look on Bucky’s face when he looks at you makes it impossible for your heart not to flutter. You smile back.
“Hey, Buck,” you say, walking toward him. “I’m glad you made it.”
“Of course, doll,” Bucky says and you beam. He furrows his brows. “What?”
“Nothing, don’t worry about it,” you say. Your face hurts from how wide your smile currently is.
So, he does call people ‘doll.’ I can’t wait to tell Raina and Abby.
Bucky chuckles. “Alright, then. Well, word on the street is that there are some books you’d like to hurl at me?”
“Throw them, Bucky,” you respond, laughing. “I’m not a monster.”
“Alright, alright that’s fair. Well, what do you got?” 
You move to the table and pick up a small stack of books. When you get back to Bucky, you place the stack in his hands. Your hands touch momentarily and you almost startle at the feel of cold metal touching your right hand. You will yourself not to look down, not wanting to make him uncomfortable. Still, you can’t help but take a second to appreciate his vulnerability in allowing his left hand to be exposed in public. 
“Obviously I don’t expect you to buy all of these now. I just wanted to give you some options. Look through them and see if any catch your eye and let me know if you have any questions about any of them.”
“Thanks, Y/n. I really appreciate you taking the time to do this.”
“Oh, literally anytime. If anything, I should be thanking you for letting me share some of my favorites.” You head back to the table to continue setting up. “Just don’t take too long, though. The store closes at 6.”
Bucky's eyes narrow as he watches you place maps, pencils, and figurines on the table, as well as a massive amount of colorful rock-looking things. “If the store is closing, why does it look like you’re planning on hanging out here for the rest of the night? And what is all that stuff?”
You give him a sly grin. “It’s D&D night, baby. Stephanie lets us take over this space after the store closes so we don’t disturb customers when it gets rowdy.”
Bucky gives you an intrigued look. “Rowdy?”
“Oh, you have no idea, Buck. There was one time a few years back when the kids adopted a horse who ended up single-handedly killing a white dragon when everyone else in the party was unconscious. Our hoops and hollers could be heard from blocks away.”
“How can a horse kill a dragon?”
“Dregbert was….the strongest creature I ever accidentally created.”
“...you named a horse Dregbert?”
“Listen, man, don’t judge. I’d like to see you try to come up with a bunch of cool fantasy names on the fly.”
Bucky chuckles. “Fair enough. Well, it does sound like an….interesting time.” It surprises him that he’s not being sarcastic when he says that. 
“Definitely never boring. This game, these kids, they were my lifeline when The Blip happened.” You stare off, remembering the early days when it was just you and four kids who were just as confused and scared as you. “We met once a week here just to try to spend a few hours distracting ourselves from everything we had lost. Then, everyone returned, including siblings and friends of the kids in the group. They started joining the games to try to bring some sense of normalcy into their lives when everything became chaotic again. Obviously, things are much closer to ‘normal’ than they were before, but this has become such a special thing for all of us that we decided to keep playing. We can only meet once a month now instead of weekly, but I’ll take any opportunity I can to hang out with these kiddos.”
You feel tears pricking your eyes and sheepishly look back at Bucky. He looks at you somberly, reflecting on all that he lost during that time as well. First, the five years from being one of the victims of Thanos and the Infinity Stones. Then, right when he returned, he had lost his best friend. It took a long time for Bucky to recover from that. It wasn't until he and Sam teamed up to deal with John Walker and The Red Hand that he finally felt like he wasn’t an agent of destruction. That he could help others. That he could move on, and maybe even forgive himself.
“I think it’s amazing that you were able to do this for those kids, Y/n.”
Heat flares in your cheeks in slight discomfort from his praise. “Yeah, well, they saved me a lot more than I saved them.”
“I doubt that.”
You lock eyes for a moment and Bucky gives you a look of admiration that causes your stomach to fall to the floor. It’s almost too uncomfortable to look at, but it also feels impossible to look away. That ocean-blue gaze is hypnotic.
After a few seconds, Bucky breaks out of his daze and awkwardly looks down at the books you handed him. “I should, uh, look at these before I run out of time to pay for them.”
You give a soft smile. “Sure thing, Bucky. I’ll be here if you need anything.”
“Thanks, doll.” 
With ten minutes left to spare, Bucky walks over to Stephanie at the register with two books. As she rings him out, she gives Bucky a serious look that leaves him slightly unsettled. 
“You know, Bucky,” she says quietly, “Y/n is one amazing person.”
Bucky swallows. “I can see that, ma��am.”
“Good. Cause she has a lot of people who care for her and would be very upset if anyone hurt her in any way.”
Bucky's brows raise as he looks over at you in the back, then returns his focus to Stephanie with a serious expression that matches hers. “Believe me, Stephanie, I would never want to hurt Y/n. I just,” he pauses, trying to come up with the words to accurately describe how someone he just met already means so much to him without sounding like a crazy person. Because, in truth, he does care for you more than he feels comfortable letting on. He just isn’t quite ready to admit that. “I like spending time with her, and I’m grateful that she hasn’t gotten sick of me yet.”
Stephanie smirks, and hands Bucky’s bag of books to him. “Alright, Bucky,” she says, “I appreciate your honesty.” She pauses and looks over at you with a somewhat pained expression on her face that concerns Bucky. “Just make sure you treat her as the gem she is. Inside and out.”
Bucky nods. “Of course, ma’am.”
Stephanie smiles and nods back at him. Bucky heads back over to you, now sitting at the head of the table scribbling furiously on a piece of paper. You look up as he approaches, smiling.
“So,” you say, “What did ya get?”
Bucky places the bag on the table and pulls out the two books: “Six of Crows” by Leigh Bardugo and “Strange the Dreamer” by Laini Taylor. 
“Yes I was hoping you would grab Crows! That’s one of my more recent favorites. I would quite literally die for Nina.”
Bucky raises a brow. “Good to know.”
You nod, then give him a slightly more serious look. “Just a heads up, there are some difficult parts. Those characters are very broken people who are trying to deal with serious shit. So be kind to yourself while reading and don’t push yourself too much to get through.”
“Y/n, what kind of recommendation is that?”
You laugh. “I know, I know. I’m sorry! I promise it’s an amazing book. And,” you pause, “I think it might help you with, you know, everything you’ve been through.”
Bucky stares at you for a moment, then sighs. “Alright,” he says, “I trust you.” He gives you a soft smile and you beam at him.
I trust you.
Suddenly, the front doors open and a short, stocky kid with glasses runs in.
“Adventureeeeeers!” he exclaims, “Assemble!” He runs down and slams into you, giving you a giant hug. You chuckle and hug him back.
“Hi, Jon,” you say. “I take it you’re excited for tonight?”
“Hell yeah, Y/n! My monk gets stunning strike now that we’re level 5. Your monsters are so screwed.”
“Oh, believe me bud, with the monsters I have cooked up for you guys, it’s you who will be screwed.”
“You’re on,” he says, and you laugh. Jon grabs a seat at the table, taking out a notebook and various pieces of paper. Just then, Bucky turns around and notices more kids walking in, talking and laughing with one another.
“Hey guys!” you exclaim. “Y’all ready to get your butts kicked?”
One of them, tall with blond hair in braids, rolls their eyes and laughs at you as they take the seat across from Jon. “In your dreams, Y/n.”
Another kid, short with long black hair and glasses, settles in next to the blond one. “Yeah, Y/n. We totally kicked your butt last time and fully plan on doing the same tonight.”
You give them a mischievous grin as the rest of the group sit down in their respective seats. “We shall see, my friends. We shall see.”
“Where is Caleb?” Jon asks.
“He’s running a little late, but we can do a quick recap from last session and see if anyone needs help with leveling up while we wait for him to get here.”
“Hey, Y/n?” the black-haired girl asks.
“Yeah, Miranda?”
Miranda looks at Bucky. “Who’s this guy?”
All of the kids whip their heads around and stare at Bucky, who responds by giving them an awkward smile and small wave with his right hand.
“Oh, that’s Bucky! He was stopping by to grab a few books before the store closed.”
“Is he going to play?” the other boy sitting next to Jon says.
You look at Bucky with a questioning look. “I mean...he is more than welcome to if he would like. But I’m sure he has other stuff he needs to get to.”
Bucky narrows his eyes at you and you grin, raising your eyebrows as if daring him to say yes. 
And he accepts. As if he could ever in his life say no to you.
“Just as long as I don’t have to play a hobbit,” he says, and the look of surprise on your face is absolutely hilarious. 
“Um, there are no hobbits in D&D,” one girl says, rolling her eyes at Bucky.
“He knows, Kayla,” you say, smiling over at Bucky. “It’s an….inside joke between the two of us.” 
“You also can’t be a monk,” Jon says. “Only I can be a monk!”
“He can totally be a monk, Jon,” Miranda sticks her tongue out at him. “I bet he would be a better monk than you and actually hit things!”
“Hey, that’s not fair! Y/n gave me the cursed dice last game that never roll well. I was cheated!”
“Alright, alright, settle down everyone.” You look over at Bucky and wave him over to the table. “Julia and Miranda, can Bucky sit in between the two of you so you can help him with the rules?” The blond one with braids and Miranda shuffle their chairs apart as you go and grab an extra seat to put between the two of them. You gesture to Bucky for him to sit down and he does so, feeling slightly awkward about sitting at a table with a bunch of kids. But then he looks back up at you and sees the giant grin plastered to your face and immediately feels good about his decision to stay. He would honestly do anything to get you to smile like that.
“So Bucky, what kind of character do you want to be? I have a few character sheets on hand for events like this when we get an extra player. We got a warlock, cleric, fighter, monk…” 
Jon groans when you say monk and Miranda glares at him.
Bucky looks over at Jon and then at you. “Uh, I guess I’ll be….a cleric?”
“Excellent choice! I love clerics,” you say, pulling out two sheets of paper with a bunch of random numbers on it. “Now, let’s get you some dice.” You dig through your bag of what Bucky thought were just colorful rocks and pull out seven dice with swirls of different shades of blue that shimmer in the light. They were the set that reminded you of Bucky’s eyes.
Bucky stares at the dice once you hand them to him. “What are these for?”
“These bad boys will decide how well you do tonight.”
Miranda looks over at Bucky. “You’re lucky,” she says. “That’s one of Y/n’s best sets. She usually uses them herself when she plays.”
Bucky smiles and locks eyes with you and you blush. “Okay, next thing,” you say, “What do you want your name to be?”
“Can’t it just be Bucky?”
“No way!” the boy next to Jon exclaims. “You can’t do your name, that’s totally lame.”
“Leo’s right,” Julia says. “You can choose any name, though. My character’s name is Brenda.”
Bucky raises his eyebrow at Julia. “Brenda?”
“What? It’s funny, and Brenda the Barbarian kicks ass.”
“Language, Julia,” you say warningly.
“Sorry, butts.” Everyone giggles and you roll your eyes.
“Okay,” Bucky says, taking a second to think of a name. He looks up at you and smiles. “How about Linus?” 
You beam at him, realizing the reference to “The House in the Cerulean Sea.”
“Linus? Seriously?” Jon says.
You give Jon The Glare and he quickly cowers, looking down at his notes. “I think Linus is an excellent name.” You look back at Bucky and give him a quick wink. Bucky swears his heart stops for just a second.
“Hey guys!” A tiny redheaded kid runs up and into the remaining empty seat. “Sorry I’m late! I had a dentist appointment.” He quickly takes out all of his notes and supplies.
“No worries Caleb,” you say smiling. “Everything okay?”
Caleb winces. “I have to get braces next month.”
Jon points and laughs at him. “HAHA you’re gonna be a brace face! Loser!”
You whip your head over at Jon. “Jon! Cut it out or you get disadvantage on all rolls tonight.” Jon blushes and mutters an apology to Caleb. “Alright, everyone, let’s do a quick recap of our last session. Who wants to fill Bucky in on what happened?”
Kayla raises her hand and looks over at Bucky. “Well, we had just fought off a pack of Dire Wolves that were guarding the entrance to the Cave of Nightmares….”
-------
“How did Caleb’s hit not kill that thing?” Bucky exclaims, looking at you incredulously. “That fireball just dished out twice as much damage as I did last round!”
You shrug, fighting back a smile. “Listen, I told you this manticore is barely holding on by a thread. Caleb’s hit really messed it up.”
Everyone at the table is radiating stress. Kayla’s head is in her hands and Miranda is staring quietly at her character sheet. She took a few too many hits and is now, as Bucky understands it, unconscious and making death saving throws. She had only succeeded once and failed twice. One more fail and her character is dead dead. 
So yeah, things are a bit tense. Bucky's shocked at how anxious he feels for everyone in this fight. He had managed to hit the manticore a few times, but this thing is hefty. It's been an hour since they started fighting it.
“I still can’t believe my stunning strike hasn’t worked on this thing,” Jon grumbles.
“I know, I’m sorry bud,” you say to him sympathetically. “I’ve just been really lucky with rolls.”
“I’m very glad we added another player tonight,” Leo says, looking at Bucky with a small smile. “We would have been totally screwed without you.”
Bucky smiles back. “Thanks, man. I’m still impressed by the whole you turning into a giant ape and beating the shi-” you glare at Bucky, “....crap out of that thing.” Bucky reaches over to give Leo a fist bump.
“Alright guys, next up is Linus. Bucky, what would you like to do?”
Bucky looks at the map to take inventory of where everyone is placed. Then he looks to Julia and Miranda for guidance.
“What are my options? Y/n said it was hurt, so I should hit it, right?”
Julia glances over Bucky’s list of spells, nodding. “Usually when she says that it means that it has less than 10 hit points, so one or two hits should do the trick.”
Miranda says nothing, too stressed about the fate of her rogue, Sage.
Bucky frowns. “But if I don’t hit it, then it’s Miranda’s turn and she has to make another death save?”
Julia nods. “And if she fails….” 
Miranda winces.
Bucky stares at the spell list. Why is he so stressed out right now? He barely knows these kids and none of this is even real. Still, he feels like if Miranda’s character dies and it was partially his fault he'll never forgive himself.
“Wait,” Bucky says excitedly, “I have a spell called Cure Wounds. Will that help heal Miranda?”
Miranda looks up at Bucky as you smile. “Yeah, Buck,” you say, “If you cast that spell, Sage will be brought back to consciousness and won’t have to make any more death saves.”
“Oh, hell yeah,” Bucky says. “I cast Cure Wounds on Sage.”
“Alright, roll to see how many hit points she gets.”
Bucky looks at his set of dice, unsure of which one to use until Julia picks up the diamond-looking die and hands it to him. 
Bucky rolls. “That’s….six points of healing.”
You grin and look over to Miranda. “Alright, Sage is back up with six hp. Mark that down, bud.”
Miranda lets out the loudest sigh Bucky has ever heard come out of such a small body as she writes on her character sheet. She looks up at Bucky and mouths thank you to him, and Bucky’s heart swells. He smiles and nods at her.
“Sage, it’s your turn. What would you like to do?”
Miranda sits up in her seat with a renewed sense of energy and a look of ferocity that leaves Bucky feeling unsettled. “I’m gonna shoot that piece of crap with my crossbow.”
“Go for it. Roll to hit.”
She picks up her d20, closes her eyes and sighs. Everyone in the room is silent as she opens her eyes and rolls. The die jumps around a bit and lands with the number 20 facing up.
The room erupts.
“NATURAL TWENTY!!!!” Jon shouts, jumping out of his chair in excitement. Kayla lifts her hands in the air and Julia high fives Bucky. Bucky is shocked at the amount of adrenaline rushing through his body right now. He feels elated. 
The smile on your face is the biggest Bucky had ever seen. You shake your head in amazement and look back to Miranda.
“Alright, Sage, roll damage.”
Miranda pulls out all of her dice and rolls. She takes a moment to add all the numbers up and anxiously looks up at you. “Twenty-five points?”
You look down at your notes for a second, letting the anticipation slowly drive everyone insane. Finally, you glance back up at Miranda with a smile.
“How do you want to do this?”
And then, Bucky understands why you wait until the store is closed to start playing.
Because even though he had thought the shouts of victory were loud just a moment ago, they have nothing on the cries of the whole group as they realize that they had finally taken down the manticore.
What catches Bucky off guard the most is that he's shouting louder than everyone else. 
Miranda looks as if she's on the verge of tears from relief and excitement. Then, she collects herself and mimes holding a crossbow. “Right through the eye,” she says.
You smile and wink at her, then describe the scene where Sage slays the manticore with an arrow through the eye. You even act out the cries of the beast as it falls to its death. Bucky laughs, not in a condescending way, but in excitement.
The kids stand up and high-five one another, including Bucky, yelling over each other about all of the cool moments of the fight.
You look at your phone to check the time. “Alright pals, it’s 8:30. We gotta wrap it up before your folks kill me.” Everyone groans, wishing they could play longer. Bucky also finds himself bummed that the game is over. They all start to pack up, still talking about tonight’s game.
“Yo, Bucky,” Jon says as he heads to the exit, “You did great tonight for a newbie.”
Bucky chuckles. “Thanks, Jon. I thought you kicked butt, too. You sure know how to punch the crap out of things.”
Jon beams. “You know it,” he says. “You joining us next time?”
Everyone looks at Bucky expectantly. His gaze meets yours as you smile, eyebrows raised questioningly.
“You know,” Bucky says, “I just might.” 
The kids cheer at that and give him a high-five, then run over to give you a hug goodbye. Miranda hangs back, though, and looks up at Bucky.
“Thanks for saving my character, Bucky,” she says quietly. “You didn’t have to do that.”
Bucky’s heart swells once again and he smiles down at her. “No problem, kid. It’s a good thing I did so you could take that thing down.” 
Miranda beams, and gives Bucky a quick hug around his waist before running to catch up with the rest of the group. This time, Bucky is sure his heart has actually melted. So has yours.
“You did good tonight, Buck,” you say as you start cleaning up the table. “Leo was right, if you weren’t here to help do extra damage to that thing, they would have been screwed.” 
Bucky smiles, and walks over to help you pack everything up. “Is it normal to feel such a...rush? Like, none of that was real but I feel like I just ran a marathon.”
You grin. “That’s how it goes. You get so into the game that it all starts to feel real. There’s nothing like the high of taking down a monster like this. It’s….the best.”
“It really is. I can see why you’re such a nerd about it.” He winks at you.
You scoff, and move over to shove him. “Watch it, Bucky, or I’ll kill off Linus next time.”
Bucky feigns a look of horror and puts a hand to his chest. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Keep calling me a nerd and find out.”
The two of you laugh and continue putting everything away, recalling the highlights of tonight’s game.
Your phone buzzes, and Bucky catches the name Eli pop up on the screen. He can’t help but notice the way you frown and flip your phone over, but he decides not to say anything.
Once everything is packed up and the table and chairs are put away, the two of you head to the exit of the bookstore, shut the lights off and head outside, locking the doors behind you.
“Thanks for staying to help clean,” you say, smiling up at Bucky. “That usually takes me way longer to do.”
“No problem,” he says. The two of you stand there for a few seconds in awkward silence. “So...can I walk you home?”
“Oh, you don’t have to! I’ve done this walk a million times so you don’t have to feel obligated-”
“I want to,” Bucky says, eyes meeting yours. “I’m...I’m not ready to say goodnight.”
Your eyes widen, and you give a small nod. “Well, then, yes. That would be nice.”
The two of you turn and head down the street towards your apartment. 
“So,” you say, “I noticed you didn’t wear your gloves tonight..”
Bucky almost stops short and looks down at his metal hand. There was only one moment at the beginning of the game when Jon asked what was up with it, but Bucky was surprised to realize that he didn’t feel as awkward about the question as he normally would. You, on the other hand, looked at Jon in horror and almost hit him across the head. 
Bucky was honest enough, and told Jon that he had lost his arm in the war (not mentioning which war, specifically) and they replaced it with a metal one. Instead of finding fear or disgust in everyone’s eyes, Bucky felt like the kids looked at him like he was some sort of superhero instead.
You had quickly made an effort to change the subject and get the focus back to the game, and after that no one seemed to pay any attention to the hand. Neither did Bucky.
“Yeah,” Bucky says softly, “I guess I’m finally learning to be more comfortable having it out in the open.”
You smile. “That’s amazing, Buck. I’m proud of you.” You stare at the ground. “It can be hard to let yourself be so open and exposed like that,” you mutter, more to yourself than to him.
“You speak as if you have experience with that feeling, doll.”
“Well,” your mind flashes to the moments you had shown your body to some of the men in your life. The ones you thought you could trust. How vulnerable and scared you were to let them see you so exposed. All of the awkward curves, bumps, shapes that didn’t make sense. All of those moments that you thought you could feel comfortable, only to be proven that you shouldn’t. “I don’t have a cool arm made of metal,” you say, trying to joke through the pain and shame you were secretly feeling, “But there are parts of me I have learned are best kept hidden from others.” Bucky frowns and feels a small bubble of rage form in his chest. This time, he does stop and gently grabs hold of your arm to look at you. It’s hard to see his face clearly under the dim streetlights, but you can still feel the intensity of his gaze staring into you.
“Y/n, you should never feel like you have to hide any part of yourself from the world. Everything about you is amazing, and you bring so much light into the lives of others. Hell, I’ve felt happier and laughed more this week since meeting you than I have in like seventy years. Literally. Fuck everyone who ever made you feel like any part of you didn’t deserve to be appreciated.”
You gape up at him, mouth open and eyes wide and you’re pretty sure he can hear your heart beating out of your chest. Unable to say anything, you lean your body into his and wrap your arms around his middle, leaning your head against his solid chest.
Bucky only freezes for a second before wrapping his arms around you and holding you, leaning his cheek on the top of your head. He’s sure you can hear his heart pounding in his chest, but he doesn’t mind. He’s too busy breathing in the scent of lavender in your hair, savoring the way it feels to have you in his arms.
This is way better than any fanfic you had ever read of Bucky holding you, because this isn’t just some Bucky in a story. It isn’t a dream. It's real, and this is your Bucky.
Eventually, you pull yourself away from him even though you would have been totally content with staying like that for the rest of your damn life. “Thanks, Buck,” you say, looking back up at him. You smile. “I know it’s weird to say, but I’m glad I almost got hit by a car and met you.”
Bucky chuckles. “I’m glad I met you too, doll. I definitely wish it wasn’t due to the fact that I almost watched you get crushed by that Subaru, but I’m glad I was there to catch you.”
The two of you continue the rest of the walk to your place in silence, but you feel yourself hovering closer to him as you walk, occasionally allowing your arms to brush against one another. Neither of you make an effort to move away.
Finally, you make it to the steps of your building. Both of you stop and look at one another once more. You swear that you could stare into this man’s eyes for eternity and never grow tired of them.
“Well, this is me,” you say softly, gesturing up to the door.
Bucky looks at the door and then back at you, smiling. “Tell Willa I said hi, will ya?”
“You got it. She’ll be excited to hear from you. I’m pretty sure she has a crush on you.”
Bucky grins. “Does she now?”
“Yeah, totally. The way she purred when you pet her on Sunday? My friend Raina has been trying to get Willa to warm up to her for years and she still runs away when she comes over.” You wink at him. 
Bucky bows his head and puts a hand to his chest. “I’m flattered.”
“I don’t know what she sees in you. She must have eaten too much trash that day,” you say, winking at him.
Bucky scoffs, then puts on the most adorable pouty face. “You wound me, doll.”
The two of you laugh for a moment, and when it finally dissipates into silence, you let out a sigh. “Well, I’ll see you Sund-”
“Can I see you tomorrow?” Bucky asks.
Your words die on your tongue and you stare at him, his face now filled with a mixture of yearning and hope. He continues.
“I mean, you can totally say no. I know that we’ve seen a lot of each other this week and you might be sick of me. But I really like spending time with you and I-” Bucky pauses, allowing himself time to regain his composure. “I would just like to see you again. Before Sunday.”
You can feel your brain short-circuiting as you start blinking rapidly, trying to make sense of everything Bucky has just said to you. Are you actually dreaming? This can’t be real.
“Well, I have work tomorrow, and then I’m going out with some friends from college for a birthday thing,” you can see Bucky start to deflate, “But you could come with us if you want? It’ll be a big group of us at this club we would always go to when we were in school. It’s honestly going to be miserable and I am literally being forced to go, but if you want, I would actually love it if you tagged along.”
Bucky’s smile returns bigger and brighter than ever. “I’ll be there.”
“Great,” you say, unable to contain your shit-eating grin. “I’ll text you the details.”
“Sounds good, doll,” Bucky says. He stands there for a second and then pulls you in for another hug. You inhale the scent of pine from his shirt and it’s the most amazing thing you’ve ever smelled.
Once again, to both your disappointment, the hug comes to an end and you pull away from one another. You head up the stairs and unlock the door to your apartment.
Right before walking through the door, you turn around and give Bucky one last smile. “Goodnight, Buck.”
He smiles back. “Goodnight, Y/n.” 
-----------
Next Chapter
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lilysdaydreams · 4 years ago
Text
Praise Bingus (No fucking way)
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→  I do not claim to know corpse- therefore please don't think that this is what he would actually act like, or that any details about his life are actually true. this is fiction.
→ Pairing: Corpse Husband X Fem!Reader
→ Genre: Angst and fluff. (FLUFF IS COMING I SWEAR)
→ Words: 3.9k
→ In a world where everyone is born with a mark on their wrist, two souls come together over the power of bingus.
→ (this isnt crack lol)
→ Warnings: Lots of swearing, um self-depreciation? rejection (kinda) and negative thoughts overall. Sorry im new to warnings.
→ Authors Note: this is the first time im doing like angst so please tell me if I did well? Um also, I’ve already started on the part 2 so keep your eyes out for that. If you wanna be tagged for part two please comment and lemme know. Also check out my other fics if you want!
→ Buy me a coffee
Part two  →    
~~~
Soulmates were a phenomenon. They'd been there for ages, drawn into the Egyptian tomb paintings, seen in the cave paintings from millions of years ago, talked about in stories passed down from generation to generation. They could be matching drawings, first words, names; all black before the soulmates met and turning gold the moment they talked to each other. There wasn't a scientist in the world who could explain the phenomenon.
You'd received your mark at birth just like everyone else, a sentence running around your wrist,
"No fucking way."
Your parents weren't that happy when you asked at the age of 4 what "fucking" meant but it wasn't that bad. You were happy that you had something unique, something other than the "Hi," or "Excuse me," that was on every other arm.
When you were 13, a little girl on the train pointed to your wrist and asked her mom what it meant. Ever since then, you'd taken to wearing bracelets over it. This had turned out to be a good idea because a few years later you started making Youtube videos. At the age of 16, you started a Youtube channel where you focused on a variety of things; makeup, fashion, games, art, skits and a whole lot more.
At the age of 20, you had a steady following of a little more than a million subscribers, and you had moved to LA to be closer to all your Youtube friends. You hadn't just grown on Youtube, you'd also started a lot of side projects. You were known for the art that you did on the side, along with the makeup palette you'd come out with a year ago. Soon you were planning to release a merch collection, one that you had been working on for a whole year now.
You hadn't met your soulmate at this point but honestly, you didn't really mind. Balancing Youtube and study (along with all your other side projects) was hard. There was no need to add the struggle of love into it... Or that's what you told yourself anyways.
There were days though, days where you wished you had someone to hug, someone to cuddle in bed with, someone to go on long walks with. You didn't let yourself wallow on it that long though. Crying about it was gonna do absolutely nothing.
It started on a rainy day. The story of you and him. You were editing your soon to be uploaded video, an e-girl outfits lookbook, which had been requested by your followers. Your personal style was all over the place and your previous soft girl and cottage care look books had done well, so you decided to continue the series.
You eyes blurred as you looked at the same point of the video, and you sighed, removing your glasses and rubbing your eyes. Your editor was sick and had let you know that they wouldn't be able to edit it by the deadline so here you were, editing it yourself. You stretched in your chair letting out a yawn. You were contemplating on whether to make coffee or not when your phone pinged.
"Nooooo" you whined when you noticed it was on the coffee table that was just a little out of your reach. Stretching your foot out, you tried to grab it between your toes and then sighed when the phone fell.
"I have zero luck, I swear" you muttered to yourself, bending to pick up the phone.
The text was from Rae, asking you to join a game of Among Us. You and Rae had been friends for a bit now, which all started when she came across your art and decided to order something from you. You had chatted and clicked immediately, immediately becoming fast friends. Ever since the lockdown started, she often asked you to join in on Among us games and your friendship had really grown over these past few months.
You sent a quick "sure!" and then went to your table, waiting for the PC to turn on. Quickly tweeting out that you were streaming, you opened up Youtube and turned on the stream, saying a quick hello and letting them know what you'd be doing.
"Rae just invited me guys, I don't really know who's there," you mumbled, replying to a comment asking you who you were playing with.
You squinted your eyes, joining the voice chat and then opening your phone camera to quickly check that you didn't look horrible. Sure you didn't really care about how you looked but it was always good to check that you didn't have anything stuck between your teeth before you turned on the camera.
There was already a conversation going on, between who you thought was Corpse and Sykkuno, judging by their voices.
"Yeah I could totally do that. Get a cat and name it Bingus. I wonder if th-"
You gasped when you heard what they were talking about and unmuted yourself immediately yelling "PRAISE LORD BINGUS" and effectively shocking everyone in the chat.
A moment of silence and then Rae yelled: "OH MY FUCKING GOD Y/N, YOU SCARED THE CRAP OUT OF ME."
You giggled as everyone groaned and whined, saying hi as they realised who it was. You had played with Sykkuno and the others a few times before but you'd never met Corpse before. You'd heard his voice though, as he was trending on twitter constantly over the past few weeks. Once they all quietened down, you realised Corpse hadn't said anything. Since you knew everyone else in the lobby, you introduced yourself, wondering if you'd scared him a bit too hard.
"Hey Corpse, I'm Y/N from Y/C/N, its so nice to finally meet you," you said gritting your teeth at you awkward introduction. For a second there was no response and then three words were said that made your jaw drop to the floor.
"No fucking way"
He had whispered it, obviously still in shock, and your eyes widened in surprise as a tingle spread all over your body. So this was what everyone meant by "you'll just know," when you asked them about how you would recognize your soulmate.
"Holy shit" you thought frozen in your seat.
Never had you been more glad that you hadn't turned the camera on yet.
"Uhhhh-" you started, but stopped now knowing what to say.
What the fuck were you supposed to do now.
"Wha- Whats wrong?" Rae asked after a moment passed.
Corpse cleared his throat and started "Its um, shes my -" and you cut him off, heart beating in your chest.
"Nothing. Its nothing." you said talking over him. "Who else are we waiting for Rae?" you asked joining the lobby quickly and choosing red as your colour.
"Uh one more person," she said slowly, still a bit confused.
"Oh awesome!" you said fake enthusiasm prevalent in your voice. "So Sykkuno," you started, wanting to keep the conversation going. "How's Bimbus doing?"
Sykkuno launched into a story of Bimbus and you blew out a sigh of relief, mind still numb over the revelation.
Corpse was your soulmate.
The guy who had literally went viral the past few weeks was your soulmate.
You'd finally found him.
You heard Rae cut Sykkuno off, telling everyone she was starting the game and muttered a "Thank god" when the words "CREWMATE" appeared on your screen. You would not have been able to play imposter at the moment, your mind pretty much stuck on the fact that Corpse was your fucking soulmate.
Heading down to admin, you realised you hadn't said anything yet to the stream so you quickly turned on your cam, saying a quick sorry to the viewers.
"Sorry guys, I forgot to put the camera on," you smiled focusing on card swipe.
"I hope everyone's been okay, I know this was quite sudden, but Rae invited me and I was like why not you know," you said rambling as you moved to comms and did the task there.
Lights were called and you moved to electrical, arriving there just as Leslie fixed them. You moved into the back of electrical doing the three tasks you had there when Sykkuno suddenly came in and went straight to standing on top of the vent.
You giggled already knowing his trick.
"Okay guys," you mumbled watching Sykkuno wiggle on the vent. "do we trust Sykkuno or not?"
"You know what," you said making a split second decision. "Its the first game, we might as well."
Joining him on the vent, you stilled for a second and then breathed a sigh of relief when he didn't automatically kill you.
"See, what did I tell you guys huh?" you question smiling straight at the camera. "I knew Sykkuno could be trusted."
You decided to follow Sykkuno going into reactor with him and starting 'Simon says' and just as you were on the last part, a body was found making you let a whine out.
"Guysss," you whined to the camera as Rae started talking about how she had found Daves body in admin.
"Um, I havent been in admin since the start of the game," you said, "also I can clear Sykkuno, for the last part of the round, he's been with me since lights went out."
Sykkuno confirmed it, "Yup that's right, also I can hard clear Y/N cuz guess what? She stood on the vent with me and none of us died."
Everyone chuckled as he said "Thats good enough for me."
"Uh, I was in navigation mostly." said Lily.
"Poki, can I just ask what you were doing?" said Sean, an undercurrent of mirth present.
"Me?" asked Poki speaking for the first time. "What was I doing?"
"You weren't doing any tasks, you were literally just walking from one side of medbay to the other when I peeked in."
Poki started laughing, trying to get her words out at the same time.
"Okay so-" a giggle. "okay okay- I was just, I was trying to um do the beep test," she said finally breaking down and making everyone else laugh as well.
"What the fuck?" you said, laughing at the image in your mind.
"My chat told me to do it last game so I decided to do it now, I was literally just playing around," she said finally, adding "I swear I'm not imposter" at the end.
"Hmmm," you hummed, bringing a hand up to stroke your chin. "Are you sure it was last game Poki... hm...."
Giggling at Poki indignant "YES it was last game", you quickly skipped voting like everyone else as the timer went into the last ten seconds.
Humming a tune under your breath, you went back to reactor, taking a minute to carefully do Simon says and then moved to the other task counting out one two three as you pressed on the numbers. Humming, you moved out of reactor, only to come face to face with Corpse. You paused for a second, and then moved ahead, refusing to show anything on camera. For some reason he followed you as you went to storage, looking at you while you did the trash.
"Why is he just staring?" you mumbled, biting your lip. God, you really didn't wanna think of him right now. You started walking to shields, him still walking with you when lights were called and not a second later a body was reported.
Suddenly there was screaming your ears as Toast and Rae both started accusing each other.
"Wait- Wait WAIT" yelled Poki trying to get them to stop. "What happened?"
"I'll explain" declared Rae, not letting toast get a word in. "We were in navigation okay, me, Toast and Leslie. Lights went out, and suddenly a report buttons there. It's either Toast or someone came in just as lights went out and killed but that doesn't seem likely because I didn't see anyone anywhere near us at all. Anyways I'm fucking telling the truth guys, its Toast, he's the one who did it."
"Toast, do you have anything to say for yourself?" asked Corpse, his voice making your insides shiver.
"Holy shit, this is my soulmate", you thought for the fiftieth time.
"Uh yeah," replied toast. "I didn't do it."
Everyone laughed as he continued.
"Like seriously, I wouldn't do anything like this because it'd be a stupid move from my own part, and I think Raes smart enough to not do this as well. I think someone else came in just as lights went down and killed immediately, which to be honest, was pretty smart of them."
"Okay so I can clear Corpse," you cut in noticing the timer was close. "he was with me in weapons when it happened, he wouldn't have had time to go all the way up, or even vent there because we were literally walking in."
"Yup that's right," confirmed corpse.
"I'm in cafeteria" said Poki.
"Yeah, I saw her on my way to weapons," said Sykkuno, "and I'm in weapons right now,"
"I'm in lower engine" said Sean, and Lily said she was in reactor.
"I think it's Toast," you mumbled and then rose your voice to talk over everyone. "Look okay fine, maybe he said it was a stupid move and he wouldn't do it but maybe he did it for that exact reason. He thought he could get away with it because no one would expect him to do something like that."
As the timer started going down by 10, you voted for Toast and it turned out 3 had skipped the vote while five had voted for him.
damn.
"Guys you actually voted for him?" you said in a high voice, re-enacting one of Sykkunos most said lines.
You heard a "oh for gods sake" from Rae before everyone went silent and you giggled as you moved back down to weapons to do your tasks.
You finished all your tasks and decided to go to security to check where everyone is. Humming as you moved through the electrical hallway, you narrowed your eyes as Corpse came out of electrical and went towards storage. Quickly ducking in you didn't see a body so you headed back out, going into cams and gasping as you saw the body. Reporting immediately you were shocked to see the four kills that had happened. Now only you, Corpse, Sean and Rae were left.
"Oh my god," you mumbled confused. Either there were still two imposters, and Toast wasn't the imposter or the imposter literally killed and did nothing else. Now either that could mean that its definitely Rae if Toast wasn't the imposter, or that it was Corpse as the only imposter left. That was a bit weird though becuase he could have totally killed you at the start of the game. You didn't suspect Sean at all.
"What the fuck?" mumbled Corpse, and Rae made her animal noises expressing her shock.
"Okay," you said taking charge and relaying the kill and your theory to everyone. "So either it was Toast and there's only one other imposter, who is Corpse. Or Toast wasn't an imposter and there's two of them left. I-" you took a deep breath in at the end, very confused. " I don't know anymore,"
"I think its Corpse as well,"
Corpse who hadn't said anything up till this moment suddenly started stammering out "hey-hey uh let-lets not gang up on me okay. It's not-"
"No, wait, its because Y/N said you came out of electrical right, and I saw you in upper engine literally a bit ago and you went down. I went towards cafeteria so I don't know exactly where you went but its totally possible that you killed."
You voted form him after that, convinced it was Corpse, and the other followed quickly.
"Guys what the fuck, at least give me a chance to explain my self" he whined when his body was thrown off the ship seconds later. You cheered when the "VICTORY" sign was displayed across the screen, bringing up your chat and laughing at Toast as he pretended to be angry at me.
"That was a great round, good work Y/N"
"Thankyou" you mumbled staring at your chat. You were confused when you saw the absolute influx of messages on there, and you were barely able to read them because they were going so fast. You scrolled up, and read through the few of the messages;
"You've made corpse sad."
"Corpse has literally been so quite since you came in, can you leave."
"Omg stop with the hate messages, its not her fault if corpse isn't talking to you"
"are you his ex or something? What was that reaction at the start?"
"what did you do? Corpse literally hasn't said a word since you came in."
"Um..."
Corpse POV
Corpses heart stopped for a minute, his breath catching. The words on his wrist glowed gold, and he stared at the little red character standing there.
This person was the reason that he had "PRAISE BINGUS" stretched across his wrist.
They were the only reason that he had searched "Bingus" on google for all of his life. The only reason Corpse knew about the meme before anyone else was because he was constantly monitoring the word online. Ever since March, he had been waiting with bated breath, anxious that he could meet his soulmate at any moment. and here you were.
For some reason, he had never expected that he would meet you in among us, or while he was on stream. He always thought it'd be someone outside. It was a bit stupid in hindsight as all he did nowadays was play among us.
He heard you introduce yourself to him but the only thing that came out of his mouth was “No fucking way”.
Immediately after he wanted to slap himself.
“Idiot” he thought to himself. “At least try to make a good impression.”
When Rae asked what was wrong, heat sprung to his cheeks as he started revealing that they were soulmates, but Y/N cut him off, saying that it was nothing.
Corpse’s heart sank a little then.
'Maybe she’s just a private person,' he reasoned with himself.
'I shouldn’t have tried to say it on stream either. God, I’m a fucking idiot, if I said it, literally everyone would know and not only would I have hated the attention, she probabaly would have as well.'
Convincing himself that she was right, he reassured himself that it wasn’t because of him. She wasn’t revealing it because she probably didn't want all the attention.
For some reason though, his heart sank even more when Y/N didnt talk to him, instead talking to sykkuno about his dog. Like sure he could understand not wanting to reveal they were soulmates but shouldn’t she at least wanna talk to him? At this point he wouldn’t even mind if she talked about his voice like everyone else.
He groaned when the word "Imposter" came across his screen, his and Toasts character standing together. He was not in the right mindset right now to be able to be a good imposter. Breathing in deeply he continued in the game, with the first round passing by quick. The second round, he saw Y/N and stood with her for a bit wondering if he should kill her. Her red character moved to weapons and he sighed moving the mouse over the kill button. Just as he was thinking of clicking a body was found. Corpse swore as Toast flew off the ship. Deciding he needed to speed it up he killed four people in the round, hissing when the meeting was called. The moment Y/N accused him, he knew it was over. He didn't even bother defending himself much, just hoping the game would end soon.
When they were in the lobby, he quickly told everyone that he was going to leave because his internet was acting up. Turning off the stream after saying a quick thank you to everyone, he leaned back in his seat breathing through his nose.
What the fuck was his life.
Even his soulmate didnt want him. Honestly, he should have expected this. Abandoned at 12 with no one around him, why did his expect his soulmate to even give a fuck about him. Tears pricked his eyes and he blinked trying to get rid of them. He breathed in deeply, grabbing the water on the table and taking a big gulp. He had never hated himself more than he did right now. Why couldnt he have an easier life.
“Why cant I just fucking be NORMAL” he yelled throwing the empty bottle of water at the wall.
Throwing himself into bed, he scrunched up his eyes, hoping that sleep would come today, not noticing as his phone lit up with a single message.
Your POV
You stayed for another game and then ducked out apologizing and making an excuse up.
"Sorry it was such a short stream, everyone," you said pouting at the camera. "It was fun though so hopefully I get to do it again." Waving goodbye, you turned off the camera and leaned your head back staring at the ceiling.
What the actual fuck.
Grabbing your phone, you stared at it for a bit. Everything that you had pushed to the back of your mind in the game, was suddenly in the forefront.
The only thing you knew about Corpse was that he had a really deep voice, he narrated horror movies, and he maybe did music?
'Rae mentioned that once right?' you thought to yourself.
You unlocked the phone and then locked it again, too scared to actually do anything.
Unlocked.
Locked.
Unlocked.
Locked.
"Oh get a grip," you muttered to yourself, opening the phone and sending a text to Rae.
‘Hey Rae, do you have corpses number? Do you mind sending it to me, I need to tell him something.’
A reply came in a minute,
‘umm, why. he's pretty private so idk i don't rlly wanna give his number if he doesn't want someone to have it’
You sighed, and decided you might as well tell her. You knew Rae wouldn't betray your trust.
‘He's my soulmate’
Immediately a ‘AHDJHAKJKAGDAK’ came as a reply and you giggled at the string of emojis after it.
‘Don't tell anyone,’ you sent quickly, trying to calm her down.
‘Okay okay, its XXX - XXX - XXXX, ASHAGDH IM DYING OMG. GO TALK TO HIM.’
Biting your lip you added Corpse into your contacts hesitating before putting a small black heart next to his name.
"Already simping," you mumbled under your breath, hands hovering over the keyboard as you struggled to think of what to write.
You finally decided on 'Hey, its Y/N, can I call?' thinking that something short would be the best way to go. Hand hovering over the send button, you sucked in a breath and pressed it, waiting with bated breath.
A minute passed.
And then five.
And then, without you even you realising, it'd been half an hour of you just looking at your phone.
An hour later, you were slumped on your desk, eyes closed and snoring lightly, the phone still open, the message you sent lighting up the screen.
tbc.
2K notes · View notes
yslkook · 3 years ago
Text
UNFUCKWITABLE (9)
mind of mine masterlist
summary: jungkook convinces you to take a staycation with him for a few days (a week).
pairing: “badboy” jk x “shy/reserved” oc
warnings: cursing, alc, excessive use of pet names, oc and jk discuss their unprotected sex practices, vomiting, some jealous jk, mild exhibitionism, fingers in oc's mouth grinding, making out, oral (m), titjob
word count: 7k
a/n: if you want to be tagged, send an ask plz. would love to hear your thoughts. also...cant believe mom manifested into butter jk im in pain
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Jungkook is unsurprised to enter your home with the key you’d given him the other week and find it completely empty. You’ve been working early mornings and incredibly late nights for the last week and a half, and he can tell it’s beginning to take a toll on you. The first sign that you were beginning to wear down was when you had skipped dinner in favor of sleeping. The second was when you had snapped at him in irritation and then immediately cried over hurting his feelings.
He can think of about a dozen other things, including the even more pronounced bags under your eyes. You’ve always had dark circles under your eyes naturally from hyperpigmentation but these days, not even concealer can help you mask them.
In fact, the reason that you’d even given him a key was because you felt like work was taking over your entire life. You’d hardly had a chance to see anyone who wasn’t a work colleague, and you just missed Jungkook. At least this way, you could wake up and go to bed with him.
You had only been calling Jungkook your partner just shy of four months, and he had a key to your home. Perhaps it was fast for other people, but with him, it felt right. So he keeps a copy of your keys on his lanyard- it’s possibly his most prized possession right now. Jungkook usually only comes when you ask him to, he’s been staying at your place for the last week because of how tired and busy you were.
Usually you stop by the tattoo parlor at least once or twice a week, but you have been sparse because of work. So he’s here, in your home without you. It felt strange the first few times he’d been here without you, but then he started leaving little pockets of himself- his shoes next to yours, his hair product on your shelf, and his two of his jackets hanging near yours in the closet. He’d even purchased a new plant to keep on your windowsill in your living room (which you take turns dutifully watering and making sure she gets enough sunlight).
It’s all very domestic. He had jokingly told you not to expose him to your shared friends, specifically Mina and Mei. To which you had rolled your eyes.
Though some small, very small, part of him wonders if the magic will fade away soon. Considering how fast you both are moving both physically into your home and in your relationship.
It’s only been a few months, and you both were incredibly comfortable with the idea of unprotected sex- after all, Jungkook always pulls out in time. Until, of course, you’d had a pregnancy scare. Hoseok and Yoongi, ever the pair of realists, had scolded him when Jungkook had revealed that you both hardly ever used any protection-
“Are you trying to knock her up? Is that it? You both ready to potentially be parents?” Yoongi says mildly as he polishes off his wine, looking at Jungkook expectantly. Jungkook’s cheeks burn.
“No, I’m not trying to knock her up and no, nobody’s trying to be parents-”
“You both are lucky you haven’t knocked her up already,” Hoseok says, with more heat in his voice, “You both are fucking stupid, but you especially.” He even smacks the back of his head with the book in his hands and Jungkook glares at him.
“Hey, my pull out game has always been strong, and I’m serious about her. We wouldn’t fuck raw if-”
“Oh, yes, then we definitely have nothing to worry about,” Yoongi says, “Keep it moving, Hobi.
“Talk to her about it, or else,” Hoseok threatens, “I don’t wanna hear about another pregnancy scare because you’re both idiots.”
“I know, I know,” Jungkook relents, “We’ve been talking about it. It just sucks that birth control can fuck up a woman’s body like that, you know? Mood changes and appetite changes, nausea and everything…”
“You could always get a vasectomy,” Yoongi says bluntly.
“Mei said the same thing. She was way more mean about it, though. Told me she’d cut my balls off if I didn’t get my shit together.”
“I don’t blame her, considering what a mess you both were last month.”
“We were not a mess!”
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look so stressed ever in your life, not even when your first bike got run over by a car. Or when your tattoo got infected three consecutive times. And I’ve never seen her cry so much before.”
“Alright, maybe we’re a little bit of a mess.”
In the end, you and Jungkook had both decided that yes, condoms were probably a good idea. Considering the pregnancy scare you had last month, you both were on edge and a little paranoid. Jungkook hadn’t even mentioned the idea of you taking birth control or getting an IUD, knowing that your last few experiences with the former were unpleasant-
“I can get a vasectomy, you know. In fact, Yoongi suggested it,” Jungkook shrugs nonchalantly but your jaw drops.
“Jungkook. I don’t think vasectomies are reversible like that. Think about what you’re saying,” You murmur, “I’m touched you’d consider a surgical procedure so I don’t have to take birth control, but what if-”
“I looked it up, they can be reversed-”
“But Jungkook! You don’t know that, what if you want to have kids later and you can’t because you decided on a fucking whim to get a vasectomy? It’s still trauma on your body! You can’t just snip snap, snip snap your vas deferens tube whenever you please. At least with birth control you can start and stop it, even if that’s not a completely benign process.”
Jungkook looks at you long and hard, his tongue poking his cheek and you sigh. “But I don’t-”
“Honey. I appreciate your thoughtfulness,” You murmur, squeezing his hands in yours, “But we’re both being stupid. We’re both acting like condoms don’t exist. Why don’t we start with condoms and then think about getting your tubes tied or me getting an IUD?”
“You spoiled me,” Jungkook complains dramatically and drops his head to your chest, “With your pussy. I’m spoiled now.”
“Shut up.”
And so now, a box of condoms sits in the drawer of your nightstand and you’ve taken to bringing a few with you in your purse as well (and so does he). You’d been far more nervous buying condoms than you’d ever been of buying anything else, and Jungkook had only cockily grinned at you.
Today’s Friday and it’s the day of your deadline. Meaning that you’d hopefully be home soon and be his for the rest of the weekend. He fully plans on getting you to relax and stay in for the majority of the weekend, so that you can catch up on sleep.
But then you come home past dinner (you had sent him a text earlier telling him that you were going to be late. He knows your mood is sour- you had been in a foul mood all week, and the fact that you’re so close to being home but so far just makes it worse). You come home with an empty belly, a weary mind and wetness along your lash line. Climbing into bed next to him, you circle your arms around his waist and cry tiredly into his chest.
“J-Jungkook,” You hiccup, “I’m so tired, they kept me s-so late today but it’s done. Everything is finished-”
“Oh, baby,” He sighs, rubbing your back soothingly, “It’s okay. We can just sleep now. You should take a few days off next week, baby.”
“I don’t know…” But your eyes are wide and considering it.
“You’ve been running on empty all week,” Jungkook points out, “For longer than that. Your job can handle two or three days without you while you recharge. Text your boss, baby. You need to rest, too.”
He nudges your cheek with his nose and you hum in agreement. “Okay. Five day weekend? Sure you won’t get tired of me?” You murmur and laugh when he squeezes your waist.
“We can make it a staycation.”
And you’re already texting your boss, telling her that you needed a few days off next week. She gives you a thumbs up and encourages you to rest up, making it a point to recognize how hard you’ve been working. She even suggests you take the full week off, which you jump at and Jungkook only grins at you.
“My brilliant girl, charming her way into a full week off.”
You swat his hand away and hide your burning but satisfied face in his chest. “Yeah, your bad habits are rubbing off on me.”
“Oh, that’s not the only thing rubbing off on you,” Jungkook says wickedly and pushes his hips into yours, earning a fierce pinch to his bare waist.
“Hush, I’m trying to nap,” You mumble, your voice muffled. Without warning, you lick his neck and bite lightly at the base of his neck, ignoring his soft yelp. He doesn’t have a chance to question you on what that was, as you’re already falling asleep.
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You’ve always thought from the beginning, even when you and Jungkook were just friends, that he was an ass man. You’ve caught him staring at your ass many, many times- in jeans, in a dress, in a skirt. And now that you both are officially together, he spends any and every moment he can with a hand on your ass. Casually, when you both walk side by side. And purposefully when you’re both just in his bed or on your couch. His hand is a well known presence on your ass, not that you’re complaining.
One of Jungkook’s favorite places to nap is on your ass, with his cheek pressed into you and one hand firmly gripping your ass. He also likes laying with his head on your lap. But his favorite place to nap is with his head buried in your chest, specifically buried in between your tits. He is currently analyzing his hypothesis that your right tit is smaller than your left, a thought he’s had for a while now, but needs further samples of evidence to properly assess.
But he’s always had an affinity for your tits, whether you’re blissfully unaware of it or not. You don’t notice it not really- you like any and all of his touches on any inch of your skin, as you’ve told him many times before. Especially when he holds you close next to him or under him and you feel protected, surrounded by only him.
He holds you, looks at you as if you’re as soothing as the sea and as bright as a supernova. And yet, the universe is contained in his big, doe eyes.
But really, at the end of the day, it’s an affinity for you. Jungkook loves every part of your mind, body, and soul, and he thinks he has for a long time. His heart has been tangled with yours since the first time he had seen you years ago at Hobi’s surprise birthday party that you had planned. Jungkook is sure that when he had seen you with a homemade red velvet cheesecake with a ‘Happy Birthday Hobi <3’ written perfectly in red icing in your arms, a silly party hat on your head, and a shy, beaming smile on your lips, he had been magnetized to your center of gravity from then on.
But even then, he had only hovered. Barely introducing himself, if it weren’t for Mina and Mei. He thought he had known girls like you- girls who baked cakes, planned elaborate birthday parties for their friends and wore flowery dresses liked other predictable people. It’s another one of his hypotheses (which has been clearly debunked)- but by now, he knows not to be so judgmental of others.
But he doesn’t dwell on that for long. Even the first time he met you, right after he had introduced himself to you and you had stared at him with starstruck eyes and stammered a quiet ‘hello’ in return, Sora had cornered him. And told him to back off from right then, that you were off limits. That you’d never be interested in a guy like him, so to not even spend a second in his stupid little mind even entertaining the ridiculous idea.
So he backed off subconsciously, thinking it wasn’t worth it to even know you as a friend. He’d convinced himself that it was too much trouble, and Jungkook has always been an easygoing kind of guy in most instances. After all, your best friend would know you best, right? And really, what did he care? As the saying goes, there were about a million other fish in the sea.
However. Even then, with each word uttered between you both, with each laugh that he pulled from your soft mouth, he couldn’t help the reluctant fondness for you that began to bloom. You had surprised him every few months after that, just saying hello at events that you were both present at and asking how he was. With that stupidly beautiful smile and those bright, shy eyes.
You were a smart, kind woman, always remembering details about others. And he was no exception.
That was years ago. He’s known you since your third year at university, hanging by a thread just outside your orbit. But this is now.
This is now, and your lips are against his neck, your chest pressed to his. You climb into his lap haphazardly, nearly knocking your mug off of the coffee table. You both have only just woken up and stumbled out of bed for coffee and breakfast. You had combed the tangles out of his bedhead with his head in your lap, but now sleepiness has washed away and you’re tugging at his oversized shirt.
You promptly bite him, right where his neck tattoo starts and ends. Jungkook meets your eyes with an incredulous, breathy laugh. “What’s gotten into you?” He murmurs, palming your chest from under your shirt.
“Nothing. You just have a very biteable neck, I told you,” You say, resuming your inspection of the vein next to his tattoo, “What a juicy jugular vein-”
Jungkook holds your wrist and flips you so that your back is on the couch. “My sexy vampire girlfriend. Love when she starts talking about my jugular vein.”
“Watch out, I might drink from it. You never know,” You giggle with a wink, squirming in his grip.
“You can do whatever you want,” Jungkook murmurs but then an idea that has been planted in his head for weeks now spills from his lips without him meaning to, “I wanna fuck your tits, baby.”
Your eyes go comically wide, mimicking Jungkook’s own. His cheeks are a little pink from his abrupt confession as silence falls between you both.
“That’s really interesting,” You muse.
“Is it?” He asks, feeling a little lightheaded. You tug a little at his purple locks to pull him down to you.
“Yeah. Always thought you liked booty. And legs,” You shrug, “But I suppose I shouldn’t be too surprised.”
Jungkook’s throat is too dry for him to reply coherently. But he finds his voice after you give him a reassuring smile, “Uh, when it’s you, I like everything.”
“Me too. When it’s you, I like everything,” You mumble, heat rising in your cheeks, “And uh… you can. Do that I mean.”
“Do what?” He asks teasingly, tilting his head to the side.
“Don’t play dumb,” You whine, shoving his shoulder.
“C’mon say it,” Jungkook jeers, not unkindly, “Put your big girl panties on.”
“I hate you,” You sigh dramatically, “Fine. You can fuck my tits, if you so desire.” His face splits into a grin as he thumbs your chin and ducks his head into your neck. He playfully nips at your skin, murmuring that he’s just giving you a taste of your own medicine, but you feel his half hard cock pressing against your thigh.
The image of his cock wet and slick between your tits is now imprinted in your mind, and when both of you want something, you’ll surely get it.
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Despite your eagerness of making Jungkook’s wish a reality, neither of you have had the chance for your usual shenanigans just yet. You still have quite a few days of your staycation left, so you won’t rush it. You had spent most of the first two days sleeping, cuddling, spooning, eating and lots and lots of slow sex.
You think you can count on one hand the number of times you’ve left your bed. Jungkook has been nothing short of wonderful, bringing you food (just this once, you hate eating while in bed), giving you shoulder rubs and booty rubs without you asking. Your favorite ice cream is in your freezer. Life is good.
His shirt hangs off of your shoulder and you’re too lazy to fix it. In fact you’re too lazy for pajama bottoms, only settling on your favorite pair of comfortable panties (nothing flashy. Just a standard black cotton panty) to wear under your shirt. One might even call them granny panties or whatever, but lace was uncomfortable on your skin. Lace and thongs are for very, very special occasions (hardly if ever) and you are in the comfort of your own home. You’ll be comfortable if it’s the last thing you do.
In fact, you’re too lazy to even raise your head to pucker your lips for a kiss from Jungkook. You only open your arms and hum, as if he’s supposed to telepathically know what you want from him. But he does, and he flops onto you once he tugs his shirt off. Jungkook’s face remains buried in your chest as you gently rub his scalp.
He hums happily, nearly purring at your touch and shoves himself closer into your hold. You can’t believe this man, the man who mildly intimidated you for years, is now in your arms and purring like a baby kitten. He’s admitted a few times that his scalp has been irritated and inflamed ever since he dyed his hair purple. One of his favorite things is to lay in your lap while you massage a mix of coconut oil and peppermint oil into his scalp.
He looks up at you, warm heat blazing in his eyes. You’re about to ask him what he’s thinking about but he palms your pussy from under your shirt- your still swollen, puffy pussy from the four times he’s made you cum already.
“Can I help you, Jungkook,” You ask flatly, but your poker face breaks when he dots you with kisses up and down your thighs.
“Yeah, fuck,” Jungkook groans, voice slowing to a whine, “I’m still hard, baby, fuck. Help me.”
“How are you still hard,” You wonder with a grin, “Damn, Jeon. You must really like me, huh?”
“If that wasn’t obvious then I’m clearly not doing something right here,” He breathes into your skin.
“Gimme a kiss then,” You murmur, pushing his long hair behind his ear. His eyebrow piercing glints in the light of your bedroom and you trace it gently with your fingertips. Jungkook desperately pushes his lips to yours, parting your lips easily and slipping his tongue into your mouth. He kisses your teeth hungrily, strands of his hair brushing against your cheeks.
His hips roll into yours impatiently, hands already pawing at your shirt. The air in your bedroom is suddenly so stifling, thick and nearly choking you both with the intensity of your desire. You just want him to feel good with you.
“Jungkook,” You say softly with warm cheeks, “You can use me, however you want. Tell me what you want, bunny.”
He lets out a quiet gasp, his eyes bright and wide.
You’re both on the same page, because he’s scrambling to chuck his boxers to the side and you’re tossing your shirt on top of his boxers.
***********************
“Fuuuck,” Jungkook groans. He’s breathless, heart racing erratically. All he can do is hold your shoulders as he watches with a piercing, hazy gaze as his cock is swallowed in between your tits. You squeeze them tightly together, trying to create as much friction as you can for him.
“Fuck,” He whines, “Fuck, you look so good, baby. O-oh, shit, my pretty baby, you’re pretty-”
Jungkook nearly cums when you mischievously stick your tongue out to brush against the head of his leaking cock. The visual is almost too much for him and his breaths are choked, strangled as he forces himself to look into your dark eyes.
“So big, bunny, look,” You say softly, “You like this? You’re so hot like this…”
He’s nearly in tears, eyes shining and wet at how good this feels. If your pussy was a slice of heaven, then your tits were the next best thing. You moan softly, feeling your own wetness and heat pooling. Jungkook’s cheeks and chest are flushed, eyes wild and wet as he slides his cock in between the valley of your tits languidly. Almost as if he doesn’t want the moment to end.
You’re so warm, warm everywhere.
His muscles are tense, the furrow in his brow beginning to appear when he’s about to cum. “Shit, baby, oh my god, I love your tits,” Jungkook moans, tossing his head back, “Fuck, I love everything about you-”
You don’t know how he’s able to form coherent sentences to you when he’s this close to cumming. But he’s always been a man of many talents.
“You know what I just realized,” You gasp suddenly, “Neither of us made it official that we’re dating. Like I never asked you ‘out’ and you never asked me ‘out’-”
“Fuck, you talk too much,” Jungkook nearly snarls, “My cock is literally in between your tits and I’m about to fucking cum all over you and you think I belong to anyone else?”
You swallow thickly, Jungkook narrowing his eyes at you. He looks intimidating and intense above you, his powerful, golden thighs straddling either side of you.
“N-no, I was just-”
Jungkook shoots you a glare, reaches behind him and gathers your wetness with two fingers. Before you can ask him what he’s doing, he pushes two fingers into your mouth to shut you up. You send him a glare right back, but it melts away quickly when you swirl your tongue and suck on his digits.
He cums without warning, hastily and with a broken sort of sound ripping from his throat. It’s warm and sticky as it lands on your chest and your cheek. But he cums so much and much to your chagrin some of his cum gets in your eye and you nearly shriek at the burn.
“Jungkook! What the hell, your cum is in my fucking eyeball-”
He’s still panting above you, like some sort of golden boy, and it takes him a few seconds to register your irritation. “Oh shit,” Jungkook says and jumps into action. He tugs you into the bathroom to gently wash your eye for you (after washing his own hands), with you grumbling the entire time.
“I’m sorry, baby,” He says sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck. You roll your eyes and demand to be taken back to bed and lavished in kisses as penance for his cum shooting into your eye.
Jungkook tastes himself a little when his tongue slips into your mouth, but it hardly registers as he rolls on top of you, caging you in between his arms.
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Jungkook fleetingly thinks he should’ve spent more time trying to convince you to stay home with him. Maybe with a few soft, long kisses to your neck, he might have. You looked delectable, good enough to eat- your dress fitted around your hips, nails, hair, and makeup done, the scent of your perfume subtle but not irritating to his sensitive nose.
You had asked him to pick what jewelry to wear, so one of his long necklaces sitting around your neck and disappearing into the valley of your chest. It doesn’t really match with your dress, but you don’t care.
And Jungkook… well, it was difficult for you to keep your hands off of him as well. His hair is tied back into a neat ponytail, he’s wearing a sequined black (fitted) button up with the top four buttons undone, a thick, silver chain and ripped, black jeans. Your eyes are glued to his chest and he knows it- you can’t help but grip his arm, his bicep whenever you can.
Neither of you really enjoyed the club scene, but you had wanted to go out since it had been a really long time and after all, you were on your staycation. Mei had planted the idea in your head, and so now here Jungkook was.
Here he was, catching flashes off the satin, coral colored wrap dress that you were encased in. For someone who doesn’t like the scene, you blend in effortlessly. But you’re a grown woman, so he takes his eyes off of you and orders a round of shots for him, Jimin, Taehyung and Jin while nursing a bottle of soju.
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In the midst of the thumping bass bouncing off of the walls in the club, you’re only aware of you and Mei while you both sing along to whatever song is blasting through the club. Mina disappeared a while ago, presumably to find Jimin.
You’re holding two drinks, one in each hand, and all you feel is the vibrations of the club. Along with your own drunkenness. Mei holds your arm to keep you steady as you move your hips in time with hers. You laugh loudly, wrapping an arm around her shoulders at something she said. Everything is amplified and muted at the same time, the swirl of alcohol settling comfortably in your veins.
You’re having a great time with your friends, dancing, swirling, singing and drinking. It’s a nice night to unwind, in the company of dear friends and strangers.
“Hey,” Mei murmurs in your ear, “I gotta pee and I’m gonna go find Seulgi-”
“You can just say that you wanna go find her,” You giggle, “Don’t blame your bladder on it, Mei.”
“Oh, you’re funny. I’ll text Jungkook and tell him to come find you, alright?” Mei says, patting your head. You nod and tell her to go find her girl, and she does. Leaving you to your own devices for a bit, at least until Jungkook makes his way to you.
However, what neither of you realize is that the cell reception in this building is terrible. Mei’s text never goes through and you stay in your bubble, with your two drinks in your hands and bounce along to the music.
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You’re not sure how much time goes by, but it feels like you’ve been alone for quite a while. You squint your eyes at your phone to check the time and send a text to Jungkook. A text that never goes through. You frown and are about to turn on your heel to link up with your man (wherever he might be), but you hear a surprised call of your name.
It’s hard to keep the incredulity out of your face when you come face to face with Yunho, the man who had stood you up all those months ago. The air has almost been punched out of your lungs, and you have to squint at him to believe what you’re seeing.
He calls your name again, giving you a wave and a bright smile. “Funny seeing you here, huh?”
“Uh…”
“Can I buy you a drink? I feel like I owe it to you after…” His eyes are sincere. At least you think so, with your drunk goggles on.
“I don’t know, Yunho, it’s okay…” You mumble unsurely, “Isn’t this weird?”
“It’s only weird if we make it weird,” Yunho says and pulls a chuckle out of you.
“Oh, alright. I guess a drink won’t hurt,” You shrug and lead the way to the bar. The least he can do for you after standing you up and hurting your feelings is buy you a drink, you think.
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“Hey listen, I owe you an apology,” Yunho says, sliding your drink towards you.
“Oh, it’s- it was a long time ago,” You shrug, avoiding his eyes. Sure, it was a hit to your ego, but in hindsight it doesn’t matter. Not when you have Jungkook. Honestly, you’ve forgotten that Yunho had even been a blip in your radar once upon a time. It was only because of Sora, anyway.
“I had something urgent come up last minute that day and I asked Sora to tell you,” Yunho continues, “I’m sorry I didn’t follow up or even reach out to you after. But I’d heard that you were with Jeon now, so didn’t want to… overstep, I guess.”
And even through your drunken haze, you understand. You sigh deeply, pinching the bridge of your nose.
“Oh boy,” You groan, “Sora never told me about that but we’re not close anymore, Yunho. It’s okay, I understand. I’m sorry she got you, too.”
Yunho’s lips part in surprise, “She didn’t… Alright. What’s done is done, I guess.”
“Yeah,” You murmur airily, “And yes, I am with Jeon. Though I can’t seem to find him…”
“I’m happy to keep you company until you do.”
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Despite how well you and Yunho seem to hit it off (most of your time spent bitching about Sora), you can’t help but think of Jungkook. You quite miss him, not having seen him all night in the club. You want to dance with him, and little do you know that he’s been scouring the entire club for you in a frenzy once he ran into Mei and Mina and hadn’t seen you with them.
He had sent them a glare, his jaw clenched and walked away to find you. So when his eyes finally land on you at the bar, after about twenty-five minutes of searching and trying to get through strings of people around you, his heart soars. But he sees you laughing with someone else at the bar. With Yunho.
Jealousy is petty, he tells himself. But he struggles to keep it at bay as it rears its head and comforts him. He’s always been protective and possessive of those he loves and cherishes. You’re definitely no exception.
You wobble a little on your feet, but you hold your own. Even from here, he can see the drunkenness of your smile, beads of sweat as they race down your neck to hide in the valley of your breasts. He zeroes in on your necklace (his) around your neck and reminds himself. It’s his necklace that you’re wearing, after all.
Then why is the man who stood you up all those months ago making you laugh like that?
You must have a sixth sense or something for him, because you turn your head a bit as if you can sense him. Your entire face lights up when you see him, in a way that makes his tough heart swell in adoration.
You make your way over to him with your drink and peck his lips chastely, despite his desire to pull you into his arms and kiss you long enough that your knees buckle. So that Yunho sees that he is yours.
“You disappeared on me, baby,” Jungkook murmurs, adjusting your necklace. He’s gripping it tightly, but you don’t notice.
“I was with Yunho, remember him? ‘Member, he stood me up but he didn’t because it was Sora’s fault-”
“That’s no surprise,” Jungkook says, rolling his eyes. You take his hand, squeezing and introduce him to Yunho. As if he doesn’t know him already. Jungkook’s tongue pokes the inside of his cheek, his jaw clenched. He doesn’t like how Yunho looks at you, how his gaze lingers on your skin and the curves of your dress. You lean against Jungkook heavily, absently playing with his fingers. You stay mostly quiet, sipping your drink as the two men speak (rather tersely).
Jungkook knows he’s being ridiculous.
“Kook, finish my drink?” You murmur, offering him the glass. Jungkook maintains eye contact with Yunho as he downs the remainder of your drink in a few solid gulps.
“Was nice to see you, Yunho,” You say, “I think Jimin and Mina are looking for us, Jungkook. Enjoy the rest of your night.”
With that Jungkook firmly holds your waist, keeping you close to him. You both know that neither Jimin nor Mina are looking for either of you. You’d only wanted to be alone with Jungkook.
So Jungkook leads you to a spot where he knows Yunho can visibly see you both. You let loose, giggling as Jungkook twirls you easily and moving your arms to match the beat of the music. He makes you laugh with his moves, winking at you and shooting finger guns at you as he twirls and swivels around you. He’s always been a great dancer, you realize. That’s funny, because you’re sometimes clumsy on your own two feet. He pulls you into him, his chest to your back and his hips pressed against your ass. You sigh contentedly, head lolling against his shoulder and you rest your hand over his hand to let him lead you.
His nose is buried in your neck, lips lightly brushing your pulse. He bites your earlobe gently, earning a soft laugh from you. Jungkook tilts your jaw to the side to meet your eyes and plants a deep kiss to your glossy lips. He holds you steady when your knees weaken, your belly flipping at the intensity that he pours into you.
Jungkook is all around you, encasing you within his arms and there’s not a single place you’d rather be. When you pull away for air, you thumb away your gloss on his bottom lip and bite his bottom lip gently.
“I adore you,” You say dreamily, “You are so… Everything. Everything. I adore you.”
Jungkook’s cheeks burn, but he ducks his head for another sharp kiss. And if Yunho is watching him shove his tongue down your throat and holding your hips to his possessively then that’s fine by him.
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The journey back home is a quick one (after you both stop for fried noodles, despite the inevitable heartburn it’ll give you both the next day but you’re both so hungry). You both stumble into your home in a mess of giggles and groping, nearly falling to the floor due to your clumsiness.
Jungkook has been hard since he kissed you in the club, in front of Yunho. He knew Yunho had been watching, feeling the man’s eyes on you both the entire time. His jealousy has crawled back into the box that it was unleashed from, but he knows that’s something to revisit later.
Something else to revisit is that he liked that someone else was watching him with you. He stores that information for later, instead focusing on keeping you upright from falling.
Somehow, through your blurry vision and wobbly legs, you get on your knees and palm Jungkook’s cock through his pants. A shameless moan rips through you- any and every inch of him makes you dizzy with desire.
You like him so much that it nearly makes you cry.
“Gonna blow you now,” You announce happily, fumbling with the button of his jeans and using all of your concentration and strength to pull his pants down along with his boxers. You sloppily kiss your way down his chest, spending extra time on his tattoo and licking (then biting) his happy trail before humming around his leaking cock.
He’s so wet already, and it’s all because of you.
Jungkook groans, eyes closing in pleasure as your pretty mouth wraps around his cock. He thrusts lightly into your mouth, peeling his eyes open to watch you. Only to find you already staring up at him, your makeup smudged and tears already forming in your pretty eyes. He cradles your cheek affectionately, stroking your cheekbone-
But before he can compliment you, softly praise you, he hears a noise. It originates from the back of your throat, something both familiar and unfamiliar. You gag uncontrollably around his cock, and while it’s certainly not the first time it’s happened, it’s different this time. Because you’re a little drunk. So he should be unsurprised when you retch on his cock, pull yourself off of him before your drunk self can get any more vomit on his cock and sprint into your bathroom.
You manage to lock the door in your frenzy of utter humiliation and alcohol addled mind. You hover over the toilet bowl, the sounds of you throwing up bouncing off of the walls. You’re crying, sobbing more like it- from both the pain in your chest from vomiting violently into the toilet bowl coupled with the humiliation of quite literally throwing up on your boyfriend’s cock.
You groan and squeeze your eyes shut, as if that’ll erase the memory.
“Baby,” Jungkook calls softly, his cock fully hanging out in the open, “Baby, please open the door. It’s not a big deal, but I need to wash my dick off.”
You let out a choked, watery laugh at that and move to flush the toilet and rinse your mouth out. Your cheeks burn in embarrassment when you unlock your bathroom door, and you can’t bear to look Jungkook in the eye. But he holds your wrist to his when you try to escape into the safety of your bedroom.
Your heart feels like it’s going to beat right out of your chest, heat flooding your ears in shame. It feels like your head is empty, static filling up the spaces that the silence between you both doesn’t.
“It’s just me,” Jungkook coos, “Do you want to shower with me?”
“Jungkook, ‘m absolutely mortified,” You say flatly, voice a little high in pitch as fresh tears burning behind your eyelids, “I want to evaporate from this plane of existence in about three-point-four seconds, I literally threw up on your penis, I’m so sorry. Don’t even look at me-”
Jungkook winces at your tone and the way your shoulders are hunched, hands gripping the hem of your dress unsurely.
“Baby,” Jungkook sighs, “It’s really okay, there’s nothing to apologize for. Come shower. The vomit is drying on my dick-”
But that’s the wrong thing to say because you start to cry immediately, shoving your face in your hands. Jungkook sighs, mentally kicking himself and running a hand through his purple locks. He calls your name softly and pulls you into his arms for a tight hug, despite the drying vomit on his dick, which is hanging out and brushes against your hip. You sniffle, peeking at him with shy eyes and he rubs your back soothingly.
“When I say it’s okay, I mean it,” Jungkook murmurs into your hair, “I’m sorry I didn’t realize how drunk you were. I know you feel embarrassed, but it’s just me, baby.”
He kisses you, despite your protests, and helps you rinse your mouth again. You allow Jungkook to somehow maneuver you into the shower, peeling you out of your clothes. You feel grimy and sticky from the club and you’re grateful for the cool water against your skin. You stand behind Jungkook, wrapping your arms around his waist and pressing your face in between his shoulder blades, letting him wash himself.
“Can I wash you?” You whisper, voice unsure. You feel awful, cheeks burning but still. He nods and you take your body wash and lather him with it, washing his now limp dick gently and swallowing nervously.
“See? Not a big deal,” Jungkook says, coaxes you out of your nervousness, “Lemme wash you, baby.”
And so he does, taking your loofah and gently rubbing your skin. Under the cool spray of water, your nerves slip away with each giggle and kiss that he pulls and plants from your lips. Your eyes are still a little shy, a little slick with alcohol. But it’s just Jungkook, and you’re safe with him.
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Jungkook nearly wrestles you to get you to eat something more, after throwing up the remainder of your guts after you both had showered (it was mainly just water and alcohol at this point). You’re nearly falling asleep on his shoulder but he manages to shake you awake for a slice of leftover noodles and two glasses of water. But eventually, he coaxes you into eating with a few kisses, hugs, and shoulder rubs.
Once you both are in bed, Jungkook wraps himself around you, his hands immediately drifting below your sleep shirt to your belly. Your cheeks burn as the events of the night replay in your mind’s eye and you press your face into your pillow with a groan.
“I can’t believe I threw up on your dick a-and you’re so nice a-about it,” You mumble, “You really are everything.”
“Well, what else am I going to do if the girl I like vomits on my dick,” Jungkook murmurs, “Don’t worry about it, baby. It happens.”
“To who? Only to me,” You say sadly, “I drank too much. I’m sorry, Kook-”
“Shhh,” Jungkook says, tightening his arms around you and kissing your forehead, “I promise it’s okay. I promise I’m not looking at you any differently.”
His words make you relax in his hold and you nod. Jungkook tilts your jaw towards him, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. You don’t say anything else after that, only allowing your soft, breathy sighs to spill out of your lips and into him with every comforting kiss and every slip of his tongue in your mouth.
He tells you to rest in between kisses, but your eyes are already closed.
**************************************
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rae-gar-targaryen · 4 years ago
Text
loved you once [angel reyes x fem!reader]
A/N: So, this is NOT the Angel fic I previewed the other day. That one (and the EZ fic) is STILL COMING, I PROMISE! This just jumped into my head and wouldn’t leave. And I wrote it with a speed I am heretofore unfamiliar with (heretofore? Did I use that right?) I invented a tattoo and an ex-girlfriend for Angel, and I fudged the timeline a bit. So, apologies in advance for that. 
As always, if you want a tag in anything I write for Angel, EZ, the Mayans fandom (or anything else), please feel free to send me a message or an ask, or add yourself to the taglist (link in profile). 
Pairing: Angel Reyes x fem!tattoo artist!reader (as always, the appearance is ambiguous, but the reader is described as having female pronouns/parts. Also, the reader here speaks a bit of Spanish. I’m half Mexican, so I do imagine a latinx reader, but I hope I’ve written this so you can imagine yourself with no restriction.)
Word Count: 15.3K (HAHAHA WHAT THE FUCK all for a TWO AND A HALF MINUTE SONG, ARE YOU KIDDING ME????) of ANGST! (SERIOUSLY THIS IS SO ANGSTY) lyrical nonsense and the remnants of sticky, cotton-candy sadness … fluff that makes you feel empty. 
Warnings: ANGST, non-explicit references to infidelity, sexual references and sexual content, oral (male receiving), fingering and other nastiness -- so 18+ ONLY, please! Canon-typical douchebaggery, references to a past relationship, song references and poetry. (It is me, so yeah, poetry.)
Summary: You and Angel may as well be strangers now. But why? After all, you loved him once. And he loved you, right? Based on the song “Loved you Once” by Clara Mae. Listen here. 
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--
We don't need to be best friends, we don't need to hang again. But tell me why we have to be strangers because I loved you once?
What were you doing here? You haven’t been back to the clubhouse in months. Not since -- well, you know. You hadn’t talked to him since then, either. But that wasn’t your own doing. 
No, Angel had erected a veritable wall of silence, and you respected him enough not to breach it. 
That was what relationships were all about, anyway, right? Mutual respect of the other’s needs? So when Angel had told you in no uncertain terms that your relationship was over, you were … upset. Understandably. You wanted to sit with him, talk about where this sudden insistence that you depart his life had come from, but he was resolute. With the absolute air of authority that comes with either a great deal of thought, or borne of virtually sudden external influence, with nothing in between. He clearly didn’t want to sit and talk about it. 
And so you didn’t. 
Ever mindful of his wellbeing, and when he was and was not receptive to communication. 
"It ain't working," he had said. You had settled for merely imagining the faraway look in his large, oilslick eyes, since he was much more interested in staring at his boots and the grooves in his floor, his forearms laid over spread thighs, unmoving and resolute from his spot at the end of the bed. Refusing to meet your eyes. 
From your seat next to him, you made to brush the arm closest to you with your fingers. When you touched, he gave no indication that you were even there. That he even felt you. Which you knew was bullshit. He always felt you. 
"Angel, what --" you hated the way your voice cracked as you tried to ask him what the hell was going on. You hated how you had sounded so small and quavering to your own ears. That wasn't who you were. You were clear, outspoken. It was always one of the things Angel said he loved about you. Loved.
You didn't know this, of course, but Angel hated it, too. How you’d sounded in that moment. Hated that his words had taken the fire out of yours, your voice unfamiliar in its timidity. 
"It ain't working," he repeated. "I can see it. Not my fault you can't." 
That was it. 
No "I'm sorry, querida." 
No "I hope we can stay friends." 
Not that you would expect an apology, or anything as cliché as a "let's be friends," from a steadfast man like Angel. Predictable in his volatility. 
You should have pushed back. Demanded an answer. You hated that you didn’t, the shock and sudden sadness morphing you into a silent, crystalline girl you didn’t recognize. Your eyes welled with tears, turning your head away from where Angel sat -- at least you wouldn’t let him see you cry. Even if you knew he knew the tears had spilled over your lashes and down your cheeks were of his own doing. 
You had arrived back at his place a day after your tense "conversation" to discover that your items you had come to reclaim were tossed into a box and left outside of the door. 
You had knocked once, in the hope that if Angel was home, he’d at least come to the door to shout through it, or, heaven forbid, would open it so you could look him in the eyes just once more while he shattered you. Your knock was met with silence, though you could have sworn you felt Angel on the other side of the door. 
In the months since then, you had cried (obviously), you had questioned (it was sudden, it wasn't just you; your friends were surprised, too), but most importantly, you had persevered. 
You had taken a bunch of new clients and inked some pieces you were incredibly proud of. You had gone out with your friends a few times, always with a wary eye on the door of the local dive, ya know… you never knew who would walk in.
Santo Padre is a small town, after all. And the cracks in your soul were nowhere close to healed. No molten gold to spill in and repair the fissures of your heart, rendering metamorphosis of something broken to something flawed, but beautiful. You sat, alone, still just… flawed. You had never felt less beautiful. Even after all this time. 
And your friend Aneesa, ever the supporter, would stop at nothing if it meant hyping you up enough to leave your cave of blankets, sheet masks, and comfort movies. Your only rule? All nights out with Aneesa were strictly girls’ nights. She was gracious and understanding of this rule, of course. She and Gilly had been together a touch longer than you and Angel. 
And if Angel had ever asked Gilly to ask Aneesa about you? Well… you never heard about it.
Not that Angel would do any of that. Shit like that was so middle-school. 
So, here you were. Back at the clubhouse after months of self-imposed exile for the sake of self-preservation. 
Coco had texted you -- the first you’d directly heard from anyone within Angel’s circle, inviting you to a patch party for some nameless, faceless newbie. The invitation had a string attached to it, of course -- the tattoo artist’s chair in the corner of the clubhouse needed a resident for any partygoers jonesing for new ink. Certainly, the new patch would need something decidedly “Mayan” to show off his new status. 
You had hesitantly agreed -- Aneesa would be in attendance of course, and offered herself as a human-sized buffer to separate you from people you were otherwise hoping to avoid. 
--
Now, perched near the tattoo chair, you busied yourself with setting out your portfolio of completed pieces, sketches and most-requested designs. You wiped down the chair a few more times than strictly necessary, but you wanted to be ready for anyone who might plop themselves down for a new piece of art. 
The main room of the clubhouse was sweltering -- a familiar blend of desert heat, cigarette smoke, citronella, and the smell of citrusy, foamy beer. The dim lighting and thundering bass giving everything a slightly blurry edge in your party-periphery. You glanced across the room at where Aneesa and Gilly sat together on a corner couch, thighs pressed together. Aneesa tossed her head back in a full-bodied laugh at something Gilly had whispered into her ear, swatting his arm -- Gilly’s reciprocal smile demonstrating his pleasure at having garnered such a reaction from his girl. 
A wave of cheers and noise accompanied the thwack of the clubhouse door swinging open -- more Mayans pouring in, jostling one another's shoulders, slapping each other on the arms, and good-naturedly cajoling. 
There was Coco, mid-pull of the cigarette between his lips, quicksilver eyes flashing around the room, taking stock of who was where. EZ followed, million-watt smile on full display as he gently guided a pretty girl with long, inky hair through the bottleneck at the entryway. 
If EZ was ambling his way in, then, surely, not far behind ...
With an arm around a tall, broad guy you hadn’t seen before, was Angel. Midway through a joke with the guy you assumed was the new patch, you took the opportunity to study the man you had once considered the moonlit orbit of your entire world. 
You hated to admit it to yourself, but he looked good… His arms still replete with thick, corded muscle. His hair was a tad longer on top than you remembered, slicked back and belied with cleanly-cropped sides. His smile as warm and blinding as the cruel light at the end of your better dreams, only for you to awake each day alone. 
As you continued your silent study, you were surprised to see -- still adorning his left arm … the tattoo you had given him on the day you had first met. You had thought he would have blacked it out by now … a cover-up on top of a cover-up. 
But there it was --- the soft, leafy greens creeping down his forearm on sharp vines, abutted with bursting blooms -- small, ornate gladiolus buds and a sprig of purpling rosemary. Such a flowery piece on the arm of someone like Angel might have been laughable. But if anyone dared, he would simply stare, stone-faced, with burning eyes and a set jaw, ready to ask just what they thought was so fucking funny. 
To you? It was perfection. It was remembrance. 
‘Cause I loved you, once… 
---
You had moved to Santo Padre from Oakland. Hardly an axis-tilting move, but significant enough to you. 
Your friend Oliver had offered you a seat at his tattoo shop. And you? You were positively itching to get out of the city. A few too many bad nights with a few people you could no longer in good conscience consider friends. 
So, here you sat, resident of one of two chairs in this corner parlour off the so-called “main” drag in sweltering, dusty Santo Padre. 
Your books were pretty clear … Not that you attributed much logic to the ebb and flow in any conceivable pattern of the tide that was tattoo shop patrons, but January seemed an agonizingly slow month. You filled the idle time with keeping the shop neat, disinfecting and re-disinfecting every surface, and organizing Oliver’s books. 
And if you weren’t dreaming up new sketches and designs for the more adventurous prospective client, you were jotting idle lines of lyrical poetry in the margins of your sketchbook. 
If the month dragged on like this, you were sure you could publish an entire book of moody, mid-winter prose that would make Charles Bukowski want to drown himself in stiff Cabernet. 
The dinging of the bell above the parlour door yanked you from your doodling stupor. You looked up to see who had come in, your gaze met with a towering, golden-skinned man donned in a leather vest, his boots squeaking on the shop’s linoleum floor as he made his way to the front desk. He leaned over it and rapped his silver-ringed hand against the top with the ease and comfort of someone who had been in many times before. If the ink trailing his arms was any indication, he may as well be a regular, though you hadn’t seen him in before. There was no way you could forget that jawline, and those shoulders. 
“Yo,” he called in greeting, eyes flashing to where you stood, walking to meet him at the counter. You swore you saw his gaze dart over your form, giving you the old up-down. An easy smile graced his full lips as he made himself comfortable leaning against the counter.  
“Oliver here?” 
You shook your head, the action serving to answer his question and --hopefully-- clear your head of the foggy spell this man was casting over you with his presence alone.
“Nah, sorry. He’s guest-chairing at his buddy’s shop in L.A. Did you have an appointment?” 
“I look like the kind of guy with a datebook?” He chuckled at his own joke. “No appointment, corazón.” 
“Walk-in? Always a risky strategy,” you lilted. 
“What can I say? I’m a risk-taker,” he replied with the practiced ease of breezy flirtation. 
You smiled softly, grabbing Oliver’s calendar from the desk, flipping to the following week. “He’ll be back in next week, if you want to wait?” 
“That’s no good for me, babe, I’ll be out of town.”
“Ah.” You huffed a bit through your nose “Bike rally?” You asked, gesturing at his worn leather kutte, cringing internally a little at the teasing edge your voice had taken on. Were you always this bad of a flirt? 
The man looked at you shrewdly for a beat -- seemingly trying to discern just how much fun you were making of him before taking mercy on you and peeling back the slight layer of awkwardness the conversation had taken.  He scrubbed the back of his neck before confirming,
“Uh, yeah, actually,” he rumbled a chuckle. “Why? You wanna go?” He raised a full brow at you in a mild challenge. 
Your eyes widened at his seemingly-serious invitation. You took in the quirk of his lips, causing the slightest crinkle at the corner of his warm eyes -- the look of a man borne of good humor and who smiled often. It was endearing, and if you were honest, made you melt a little. Even if you now realized he was teasing you. 
“Sorry, guapo,” you cracked a smile of your own, gesturing at the empty shop. “As you can see, I’m a very busy girl. Highest of demand.” 
“Claro,” he replied. “So, I better get in while the getting’s good, huh? Your chair open now?” 
“Uhm,” you chewed your lower lip, now slightly nervous at the prospect of spending more time with this man. “¿Quieres esperar para Olí? I won’t be offended. You haven’t even seen any of my pieces.” 
A beat of silence passed between you both, the man seemingly weighing his options. 
"I mean," You broke the silence and leaned forward, lightly tapping a fingernail against his bicep. “What if my art style doesn’t suit the king of the bikers?” 
"Something tells me you'll suit me just fine." His smirk was full-bore now. He didn't miss a beat, did he?
You were silent, probably for a few moments too long. Was he actually flirting with you? You blinked. He probably flirts with everyone ... get over yourself, you internally chided.
"Angel," the man said, recovering the moment and holding out a large, ringed hand for you to shake. You gave him your name, shaking his hand firmly. 
You nodded your head over your shoulder, toward your chair. 
"Well, come on back, Angel, you can tell me about what we're doing today."
Angel followed you back to your station, and you could swear you felt his dark eyes on your form as you walked, the thought that this man was looking at you with any kind of discerning attention made your cheeks warm a little. He folded his long body into the chair you gestured toward, and you took the rolling seat next to him. He proffered his left arm to you, tracing down a spot on his forearm.
"Just wanna cover this up," he paused, letting you observe the offending ink. "It's about time." 
"'Clara Forever,' huh?" You took in the faded, loopy lettering down his forearm. "Who's Clara?" Your tone was gently teasing by nature, but he seemed to clam up a bit at the question, regarding your sharp tongue with sharper eyes.
"Well, it wasn't forever," he finally bit out, shoulders now a little more tense than before.
"Aw, cariño," you sighed in good-natured taunting. "Didn't anyone ever tell you the number one rule of tattoo? 'Forever' is a certain jinx. And a name is almost never a good idea… unless it's your dog's."
You made a sweeping hand gesture over the rest of his person, your eyes noticeably cataloguing the ink adorning most of the real estate on his arms and what little you could see of the top of his chest. 
"How did anyone let you get this far without telling you the rules?"
He relaxed at the humor in your soft voice, comfortable now that he had confirmation that you were teasing him rather than seriously ridiculing. His posture relaxed once more, he waggled his eyebrows at you, also teasing,
"Le sorprendería saber que nunca fui uno para seguir las reglas?” He asked. Would it surprise you to learn that I was never one for rules? 
"¿Tú?" Your eyes widened in mock surprise. “Para nada.” Not at all.  
"Hey," he swatted your arm gently. "Cuidaté, niña. Insulting your customers? I can see why your chair is empty." He chuckled at his own little jab as you busied yourself gathering your supplies.
You turned and reached for him, holding his arm in one hand and running your now-gloved thumb over "Clara Forever." 
"So?" You queried, "What are we doing with this? How do you want to cover it?" 
Angel shrugged, the leather adorning his shoulders creaking ever-so-slightly with the movement. 
"Figured I would just black it out. I've been putting it off long enough. To hell with her anyway, yaknow?"
"Hmm…" you considered his proposal. "I could do that, if that's what you really want. Easy enough. But…" you trailed.
He shifted in the chair, arching an eyebrow at you.
"But?" He pressed.
Now it was your turn to shrug. You released his arm from your grip and gestured to the booklet containing photos of your most prized work. 
"Why waste the opportunity to give yourself something you really want?" You handed him the book. "Besides… from the looks of things, you have limited real estate left on this arm. May as well fill it with something… more you?” You made to hand him the scrapbook. “You can see what else I've done. See if anything sparks an idea." 
Angel regarded you for a moment. Leaning forward in the chair and slightly more into your space, eyes never leaving yours. He took the edge of the book, deliberately brushing his fingers over yours as he did so, making you hold your breath a little. If Angel noticed, he had the decency not to say anything. 
“Why not?”
You exhaled softly as he leaned away again, flipping his way through your book. 
As he scrutinized the photographic renderings of your pieces, you took the chance to really take him in. His strong jaw and full lips were objectively pleasant, abutted by deliberately-shaped facial hair. He had a prominent brow, something that would surely give away his feelings, even if he decided not to verbalize them. There was no hiding a frown or a smile on that face.  You fiddled with your fingers as he flipped through the pages. 
“This is some seriously top-notch shit, querida,” he voiced his approval, followed by a warm smile. He flipped his way through your minimalist renderings, floral pieces, lines of script, and one particularly involved piece with a burgundy phoenix and lifelike flames...
“Yeah?” You couldn’t hide the pleasure in your voice that he might think of you in a positive light. “Which one do you like?” 
He flipped the book to you, gesturing at a geometric planetary canvas piece you had etched down a prior client’s thigh. 
“Did you think of that one?” 
“The client had their ideas, I just execute, I guess… That was a fun one.” You shrugged, glancing at your shoes scuffing at the linoleum, suddenly feeling very shy under his scrutiny.
“Hey, don’t do that,” he leaned forward once more, his fingers gently brushing along your chin to bring your eyeline to his. “Don’t downplay your talent. You’re a badass. Own that shit.” He gave you a soft wink, releasing your chin from his grip.
Um, wow.
Was it always this hot in the back of the shop? Or were you just spontaneously combusting? Did that seriously just happen?
All you could do was nod. 
“Aight,” he crossed his legs at the ankles, making himself comfortable in the chair. “I’ve decided.” 
“Yeah?” You breathed, “What’ll it be?” 
As if he was doing nothing more complicated than ordering fries, Angel pointed at your book. “Dealer’s choice.” 
“Excuse me?” You couldn’t believe he was just going to trust you to cover up his ex’s name etched into his arm. “¡Oye! Did you hear nothing I said earlier about walk-ins being risky? Nothing about the rules?”
Angel scoffed. “About as well as you heard that I don’t give a shit about rules, babe,” He crossed his arms over his chest. “You like rules, huh?” 
Oh. The rumbling tone his voice had taken on with his last question did not go unnoticed by you. If there was any heat to spare in this shithole desert-town, it was now one hundred percent flooding through your body. 
But you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing he’d had that effect on you… (although, let’s be real, he probably, definitely, already knew).
“Fine, Angelito,” the mocking tone had returned to your voice. “But unlike Clara, this one’s gonna be forever. If I find out you cover up my art, I’m gonna blacklist you at every shop in Southern California.” You raised an eyebrow at him in a challenge. “Can you live with that?”
Angel nodded. 
“Do your worst, Vince.” 
You wrinkled your nose at the moniker. “Vince?” 
“Yeah,” he seemed so assured in his own cleverness. “Like Van Gogh?” 
You rolled your eyes. 
“Van Gogh!?” You feigned offense, hand-over-heart, lashes batting. “Not even Frida? Come oooon, Angelito.” 
He chuckled. Shifting in the chair and offering his arm to you so you could get him ready. 
“You gotta earn ‘Frida,’ dulcita.” 
“Everyone’s a critic,” you sigh, shifting your focus and taking stock of the space on Angel’s arm and what you had learned of him so far.
Someone who was seemingly confident and breezy, whose rough exterior belied something softer that was just out of reach. Someone who clearly cherished things and people he adored, if the tribute you were now covering was anything to go by. And, by the same token, more than a little impulsive. He wore his heart on his sleeve, apparently literally. 
You gathered your inks and began to work, your playlist and the buzzing of the tattoo gun filling the silence. 
It’s not like you had any reason to know it, but Angel considered you as you were working, admiring your focus and the intensity with which you afforded your art. Was he a little nervous about the fact that you were free-handing a design for him off the top of your head? Maybe... But what was life without a little risk? And he certainly wouldn’t mind a little risk with you. You were, it was obvious to him, very pretty. It was more than a little off-putting how easily you traded quips with him, seemingly unaffected by his presence and everything that came with it. If it wasn’t for the little hitches in your breath when he gently flirted with you, he wouldn’t have anything to go off of in terms of your interest. Something that was both respectable and maddening to him. 
He reached his other arm over to the side-table, grabbing your sketchbook and idly flipping through the etchings. 
Not only was the book filled with little designs, splashes of watercolor mixing with pen and charcoal, but he noticed the cramped words in the margins, perusing at his leisure and ignoring the itching buzz of the needle on the skin of his other arm.
“So, not only a Vince, but a Frost,” he broke the silence. 
You paused your work, wiping your brow with the back of your hand and looking at him with a question in your eyes.
He tapped his finger along the lines of prose in your book. “A poet,” he said. 
“Ah,” you said. “Uhm, more like a bad poet,” you chuckled, embarrassed. You made to begin again, when Angel gently gripped the wrist of your free hand. 
“The fuck did I just say?” He lightly tugged, forcing you to look into his maddeningly honey-dark eyes. “Don’t brush off your shit. Would Frida do that?” 
You regarded his eyes for a moment longer, darting your gaze to his pouty lips, resolutely set in their mission of imparting some of his confidence onto you. 
“Point taken, Angel,” you pulled your hand from his grip, which he released, trailing his fingertips over your hand as he did so. “I’m the greatest poet who ever lived, you’ve convinced me. Fuck William Shakespeare.” 
“Yeah,” Angel boisterously agreed, pleased to be bolstering you but surprising you with the little barking shout, “Fuck that dude!” 
You chuckled, shaking your head and silently returning to your work, the silence filled once more with the pleasant buzzing as you drew away. 
When you were finished, you released Angel’s arm, allowing him to inspect the clean lines of the greenery that you had drawn out of his former-love tribute. What were once loopy, cursive letters were now vines creeping steadily along his forearm, soft, yellow and red gladiolus buds emerging from where Clara’s name had once sat, neatly finished with the clean lines of the purpling sprig of rosemary along the edge of the piece. 
Angel was speechless, leaving you to marinate in your nerves. 
“It’s …” he started, “... flowery,” he supplied, lamely. 
“No shit it’s flowers,” you shot back, feeling a little defensive now, but wanting to make a quick recovery. “And they’re for you, Angel.” 
He seemed puzzled. 
“Gotta say, Vince, this is the first time a chick’s gotten me flowers,” he chuckled, “Guess they won’t die?” 
“They won’t,” you assured. “They really are for you, you know? Look at you, the rest of your ink. What it covered. You’re clearly a man formed by your experiences. It only seemed right, si? Gladiolus? They’re for remembrance. Rosemary? Symbolizes thoughtfulness and memory.” 
You continued as you began wipe the piece clean before wrapping it in new saran-wrap, “Your memories and choices make you who you are, sure. But you never know… something good could bloom from them, through the cracks."
His silence at the end of your little soliloquy was deafening. He hated it, you were sure of it. Fuck. Why did you have to get so fucking clever with him? You should’ve just done some black ink in something tribal, something masculine. What the fuck was wrong with you??
You dared to sneak a glance at his face, only to find that he was already staring at you, lips softly upturned in the hinting bloom of a smile, tarpit eyes twinkling with a good-natured mirth he would come to reserve just for you. 
“Fuck Shakespeare. That was damn beautiful, Frida.” 
The heat had returned to your cheeks, standing quickly. 
You stripped off your gloves, and made to turn your way to the counter, gathering the aftercare sheet and balm for Angel to take with him. 
You spun back toward him before he could get up.
“Oh! Can I take a picture?” You held up your phone, shaking it lightly. “For the ‘gram?” 
“Sure thing,” Angel dutifully held his arm under the lamp you had used to work, letting the fresh ink and colors pop against the golden dunn of his skin. 
You took a few photos, deciding to scroll through your camera roll later on and post your favorite. You made quick work of wrapping his arm in a sheet of clean plastic wrap before relinquishing your hold on his arm, turning to walk back to the counter. 
“Uhm,” you trailed … the telltale squeak of Angel’s boots on the linoleum indicating he was following you back to the front of the shop. You assembled everything into a bag for Angel to take with him, grabbing one of your cards from the front card-holder, and quickly jotting your number on the back next to your where the instagram handle for your art page was neatly printed, hoping he didn’t notice your sneaky little move. 
Angel resumed his comfortable lean against the counter, turning and tilting his forearm, scrutinizing your work. 
“It’s gonna be a clean one-fifty, Angel.”
He looked slightly surprised at the figure, a light frown dusting his features. 
“You sure about that? For the size, and the color, and time and everything? It’s been, like, hours.”
You shrugged. 
“We’ll call it the friends-and-family rate.” 
He gave you a long look, very clearly looking you up and down now, a prolonged edition of the greeting he had graced you with when he had entered your shop mere hours before. 
“And is that what we are now, querida? Friends?” 
How was it even possible for his voice to reach such a low register when he said these things to you?
While your insides flip-flopped at the flirtation, you hoped your face was the impassive mask you were trying to school it into. You subtly brushed your slightly-sweating palms against the frayed hem of your shorts before bringing an elbow up to the counter, resting your chin in your palm, lightly batting your lashes at him before responding...
“Sure,” you replied. There! Easy, breezy, cool-as-you-please. How does it feel, Angel?
“One day with you and friends already?” He rapped his ringed hand gently against the counter. “Can’t wait to see where we’re at tomorrow.” 
He swiped the bag off of the counter, tossing a few crisp bills onto the countertop and a wink over his shoulder before exiting the shop. 
You counted the bills on the counter, watching as Angel left the building.
Holy shit.
Three hundred bucks. He had tipped you 100 percent of what you charged him.
Cheeky.
Maybe Santo Padre wasn’t so bad, after all… 
---
Now, staring at him from across the room made you feel like you were drowning in the sickly-sweet cotton candy of sugared dreams, now lost to time. The saccharine balm melted to acrid wax, leaving you with only the tinge of bitterness. 
You were jostled out of your reverie by the sudden appearance of EZ’s blocky frame, ambling toward you with the same girl from before on his arm. 
He greeted you with a slow wave and a soft smile. 
“Hey, girl,” he greeted, clearly unsure of how much friendlier and closer he should approach you. 
You took mercy on Angel’s sweet, (big) little brother, opening your arms slightly for a hug. EZ took to the gesture like an over-excited golden retriever, scooping you up and spinning you once, before putting you back where he found you, slightly dizzier than you were before. 
He offered your name to the girl by his side, who looked pleasantly amused at the spectacle before her, her amusement melting to recognition at the name EZ had imparted to her. 
Ah. So she knew who you were. 
You tried not to let that realization sour your encounter, easing a practiced smile onto your features and offering your hand to the girl to shake. 
“Oh!” EZ chuckled. “This is Gaby -- er, Gabriela.” 
“Encantada,” you eased, gently shaking her hand before having a realization of your own. “Gaby, as in Leti’s friend?” 
She nodded, a warm smile illuminating her already sunshiney features. You could see why EZ obviously liked her. She had the practiced social grace of a debutante, but the friendly aura of someone you had known for your entire life. 
“I hope you’re keeping Ezekiel out of trouble,” you teased gently. 
“Only as well as I can,” she replied. EZ rubbed the back of his neck as you two gossiped about him like he wasn’t standing right there. 
“Listen, hermanita,” EZ began, swirling the dregs of his beer around the bottle clutched in his hand as the conversation lapsed into comfortable silence, “About Angel --” 
That was a hard no. 
“Coco!” You called as you spotted the lithe man prowling through the crowd after obtaining a drink from the bar, effectively shutting EZ up. 
Coco sidled over, slinging an arm over your shoulder and nodding in greeting to EZ and Gaby. 
“Wassup, chiquita? Over here with all the cool kids?” 
“You know damn well I was never cool enough for the cool kids,” you knocked your shoulder into Coco’s good-naturedly. 
“Dunno about that, pequeña,” Coco took a drag of his cigarette, sighing as he exhaled. “I’ve got some pretty cool body armour thanks to you.” 
“All in a day's work,” you mock-saluted. You were doing great. Keep it light, keep it friendly. You may be able to make it out of this unscathed, after all. 
Gaby and EZ were speaking softly to one another just to your side, as you and Coco continued your conversation. 
“So, who’s the new guy?” You asked, nodding over to where Angel and the still-unnamed newbie were tossing back shots. You tried to ignore that each one had girls placed on each of their laps. Well, mostly you were trying to ignore one girl placed on one lap; tried to ignore as ringed fingers trailed up and down her thigh hypnotically as he howled in laughter at something the new guy had said. 
The longer you stared at the way he was touching her, the more You thought you could feel it on your own skin. And you knew all too well how that touch felt. Memories, make you, right? 
You blinked harshly, turning your face back to Coco’s, only to find his hawkish eyes trained on you as he continued to smoke. Now you were certain he had seen everything you had, and more. And you cursed yourself for slipping. Because nothing slipped past Coco. 
He took mercy on you nevertheless. 
“Andres. He’s aight. You may not remember him from before, when he was just a prospect.” 
“Guess not,” you agreed, shrugging amiably, suddenly very interested in toying with the hem of your flowy little summertime skirt. 
“Mierda,” you heard Coco hiss, glancing up to see none other than the new guy -- Andres -- walk over, his arm around the waist of the girl from his lap, accompanied by none other than Angel Reyes, furnished with his own lap-turned-arm candy. She was giggling in his ear, popping her gum and bumping her hips against Angel’s as she walked by his side. 
You felt EZ stiffen from your other side. 
Great. 
The easy smile you’d had when conversing with Coco now felt positively screwed into place, settling unnaturally, a stranger's face made up of your own features. 
Andres smirked at you in greeting, eyes trailing over you -- the most unwelcome iteration of that gesture in this context to-date. 
“I hear you’re the girl to see about some ink.” 
You bit back the snarky response that rose to your tongue. You see anyone else here, tonto?
“Sure am,” you replied, cool as you pleeeeaseeee. Maybe a little too cool. The ice in your voice was obvious to everyone except the strangers before you. 
You really were doing great, weren’t you? 
“Great,” the new meat brushed the girl off from his side, plopping unceremoniously into your chair. “You did that right?” He pointed behind you to where Angel was standing, gesturing at his arm and your miniscule mural of memorial greenery. 
“Cierto.” You nodded, sparing Angel’s arm the barest of glances.
“Aight, well, none of that girly shit, alright, sweetheart? Angel may have had the good grace not to say anything, but flowers ain’t really my style, yeah?” 
What the fuck.  
Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Coco visibly tense next to you, obviously displeased at the uncalled-for critique of your work. Of a piece he himself had often admired. He would never admit it, but he thought the story behind it was even better. It’s like you had walked out of some shitty romcom Leti watched with her tittering friends and into Angel’s dreams, sinking yourself beneath Angel's skin like a dream he would recount to all of his friends. Coco knew the most about you by nature of Angel's second-hand stories when you were together. Although Coco thought, once he had met you, Angel's stories didn't do you justice. How wonderful and talented you were. How warm and welcoming.
Angel watched the exchange silently, clearly none too keen to defend the piece you had designed for him. That had come to mean so much to you. 
That stung.
You winced, almost imperceptibly. But you were certain Coco saw it, not much escaping his sniper’s eyes. EZ, with his owlish perception and photographic memory, certainly would have seen it, too. If Angel saw it, it’s not like he was going to say anything now. 
Where the fuck was Aneesa? Wasn’t she supposed to be heading this kind of shit off? You glanced over at the couches in the corner where your friend had previously been sitting with GIlly, and was now nowhere to be seen. Fuckin’ typical. 
“Aight, no más flores." No more flowers. “What were you thinking, then?” 
That was you, ever the professional. 
Andres showed you his phone, a rendering of an old-style beastly cat, like a panther from an old folktale, pulled up in his image search. 
“Something for a warrior,” he puffed his chest slightly. “I was thinking here,” he shrugged out of one side of his new kutte, tugging the button-up to expose one side of his chest. 
“You got it.” 
You set to work, cleaning the area to be inked and getting your tools ready. The rest of the group drifted as the project progressed, clearly not feeling the need to stand there for the entire duration of a tattoo. 
You were acutely aware that Angel hadn’t stepped as far away as the others, circumventing the periphery of yours and Andres’ space, not close, but not far. And he still had yet to even look in your direction. Or acknowledge your existence. 
You tried your best to ignore the icy shard of Angel’s indifference that was currently wedging its way between your ribs and lodging itself firmly once more into your heart. At this point, you guessed it would never heal. 
“Sooooo,” Andres lolled his head to the side of his chair to face you, slinging back the beer from the bottle dangling in his free hand. “I haven’t seen you in a while. You were around a little bit when I was prospecting.” 
You opted not to respond, aware that Angel was likely listening, and you would need to choose any words carefully. Andres had no such reservation, clearly uncaring about who might be listening. He pressed on, each word more infuriating than the last. 
“You were Angel’s little sidepiece for a while, right?”   
You tried to keep your despairing sigh to a quiet little nothing. 
“Sure.” You offered lamely. “Sorry, man, I don’t mean to be rude, but I really work better when I’m not talking.” 
“S’alright, jaina. I can talk enough for the both of us.” 
You hmm’d nonchalantly at that, lip imperceptibly curling over your teeth in distaste at the moniker. You chose instead to focus on the piece. You wouldn’t give a shitty tattoo, even if this guy was a douchebag. And the pleasant buzz of the tattoo gun. Maybe you were etching the lines a little sharper than strictly necessary. If he noticed, Andres gave no indication, continuing on with his diatribe: 
“So, what happened? I mean, Angel knocked that other chick up? Ouch, right?” 
You were now seeing red, the edges of your vision blurring slightly with angry, pinpricking tears. Thank fuck you were just about done with this. 
“But that’s the life right? I mean, we’re not exactly known for being steady with just one chick. You know how it goes ...” He eyed you up and down again, lingering a little too long on your legs before finishing his thought with a smirk “... Clearly.” 
You hated his use of “we,” like he was in any way, shape, or form worthy to be in the class of man EZ, Coco, Bishop, or, hell, even Angel, was. None of them would talk to you like this. No matter what Angel had done. 
You shut off the gun, pushing back from the space with Andres, spinning in your chair, and grabbing the clean wipes for Andres’ fresh ink. As you dabbed the area and made to bandage it, the oblivious biker grabbed your wrist. None of the teasing fun or gentleness in the same gesture that Angel had imparted when you had first met. No, Andres’ grip hurt. It was all bruising possession and entitlement. 
“I think we would have fun, you and I.” He leaned forward and far too into your space, the stale stink of warm beer heavy on his breath. 
You wrenched your grip from his, standing quickly and offering him a tight smile, cheeks flaming with your anger and embarrassment. How dare he speak so trivially of your relationship with Angel. How dare he think you were so easily won with his kutte and shitty attitude. 
“Uhm,” you tugged your fingers agitatedly through the ends of your hair, chewing your lip. “You’re all set, Andres. Aftercare sheet is on the table next to you. It’s on the house. Happy patch party!” Your voice sounded so shrill and fake in your own head, but you just didn’t have it in you to care at the moment. 
With that, you quickly whirled on your heel, in a distressed flurry past the Angel-shaped blur who had been watching the entire encounter, and out of the clubhouse door into the cooler late-night air. 
Getting heavy to breathe in this room together. It’s so awkward, we can’t seem to do it better. Can’t we just fake a smile and put our shit to the side? 
---
Angel had waited a whopping 18 hours to text you after your clandestine tattooed meet-cute. 
You were in the middle of exchanging consultation e-mails with a prospective client when your phone had buzzed. 
“Vince?” The text read. 
You bit back a smirk before responding,
“Vince? No Vince here. This is Frida’s phone.”
You watched as the little bubbles appeared in the corner, disappeared for a second, and then reappeared. You were grateful for the little manifestation of Angel’s hesitance. It made him seem more human. And it made you appreciative that he was clearly trying to choose his words with you, when words had seemed to come so easily to him when you had met. 
“My bad. Oh, beautiful, talented Frida.” 
You couldn’t hold back the smile on your features now. Grateful it was still you and only you in the shop so that no one could see your “obviously-texting-a-cute-guy” face. 
“It’s nice to hear from you, Angel. Good thing you didn’t throw away the card.” 
“That card was clearly a gift, querida. Much like the pretty flowers on my arm.” He snapped you a picture of his tattoo, the healing process underway. 
“Looks great!” You sent, cringing at your lack of ability to effectively flirt via text. It was something that your friends had teased you relentlessly about back in the Town -- your notorious lack of game. No! New home, new you! Be cute. Be cute. 
“So, if I’ve given you all the gifts, what do I get?” You sent with a “thinking” emoji. 
Angel at least had the decency to wait a minute or two before replying, either thinking about his response or keeping you in suspense… you weren’t sure. But you were grateful for the little opportunity to catch your breath. How did he make you so speechless when he wasn’t even in the room with you? Some things just weren’t fair. 
“Niña, I paid you for this ink. What more could you possibly want from me?” 
Tricky Angel. Zorro. Like a little fox, he had effectively maneuvered the conversation back to you -- the ball was in your court. Would you tell him what you wanted?
You chewed the end of your fingernail thoughtfully before responding. 
“You texted me, boy. Are you sure it isn’t you who wants something?”
If only your friends could see you now. That was damn smooth. 
“Boy?” 
You snorted to yourself. Trust a guy like Angel to get hung up on something small like that. The bubbles reappeared. 
“I was thinking about this pretty girl I met the other day. Hell of an artist. But a shit poet. Thought I would see if she was free sometime?” 
Angel was merciful. You could kiss him. Had he seriously just taken all the weight out of this conversation? Your heart felt a million pounds lighter in your chest, knowing he was asking you. The wave of relief that he wanted to see you again crashed through you, replaced in the tide with the backdraft of a feeling of mischievousness. You wouldn’t let him off so easily.
So you waited before responding. Let him sweat a little, right?
Only… you weren’t sure Angel was sweating as much as you were, fingers itching with the desire to text him back and accept immediately. 
When what had felt like an eternity (but in reality had only been about seven minutes) had passed, you picked up your phone, opening the conversation with Angel. 
“She’s free next Thursday … After your bike week, el rey de los bandoleros.” 
You put your phone back down on the counter, grinning like an idiot, feeling like you had just swallowed a bunch of bubbles. You entertained the notion that if your combat boots weren’t keeping your feet weighted to the floor, you would have floated away. 
Your phone dinged once more.
“See you then, mi reina.” 
Time passes slowly the more you want it to go quickly. And whenever you have a deadline you’re dreading, it gallops ahead. Time really is that bitch, and she does not give a fuck about your feelings. 
The following Thursday felt like it took a year to arrive. But it found you closing up the shop, your stomach fluttering with butterflies and pop rocks, adorned in your favorite pair of jeans and boots, a clean, flattering tank top that showed off your own ink. You hoped it was fine for whatever Angel had in mind. 
Honestly, he hadn’t said anything about your date. A few flirtatious texts here and there? Obviously. You sent him photos of the pieces you had done for new clients. He sent you ridiculous selfies and a couple of group pics of him and his friends at the biker event. One guy who kept popping up in the photos, Angel had told you, was his “little” brother. But there was nothing “little” about that dude. 
You loved seeing all of Angel’s goofy, smiling faces. Treasuring the photos in your small moments of quiet downtime. 
The rumbling of a bike engine greeted your ears, like the seductive purr of a large cat. You glanced up, a full Cheshire grin alighting your features at the sight of Angel’s gorgeous, deep forest green bike, and the man of the hour looking very at home on the seat. 
He rolled to a stop in front of you, unclipping his helmet and dismounting with his winning trademark smirk, ambling over to greet you. 
“Frida,” he scooped you into a hug, his tall frame causing you to lift, your toes now barely brushing the ground as he brought you to his height. He pressed a soft kiss to your check, setting you down gently and letting you get your bearings, chuckling pleasantly at the obvious, dizzying effect his greeting had had on you.
“Angelito,” you returned. “Back in one piece?”
“Hail to the king, baby,” he countered. 
“Yeah, yeah,” you teased, scuffing the toe of your boot into the gravel of the lot. “So, where are you taking me, o benevolent one?”
“Just gonna hafta find out.” He handed his helmet to you, helping you clip and tighten it beneath your chin. “Ever ridden before?”
“Uhm, well, sure” you replied too assuredly, quickly realizing your slip. “I mean, no. Not like that. I mean, yes, like that. But not on one of these.” Fuck. Could you be more embarrassing? 
Angel released a full-bellied laugh at your response, his head tossing back a little. 
“You’ll have to tell me more about alla that later, cielo.” You put your head in your palm willing the embarrassment to go away. Angel quickly pried your hands away, cupping your cheeks with his own warm hands, long fingers brushing your cheekbones reverently. “In the meantime, just hang on, okay?” 
You nodded, still cursing your idiot-brain that had partnered with the dirtiest corners of your mind to take over your mouth. Shut the fuck up, dumb-dumb. 
You clung to Angel as he drove, your hands roaming his firm torso probably a little too-familiarly. You enjoyed the way the wind whipped around you, tugging at yours and Angel’s clothes as you made your way up the canyon overlooking the desert that was Santo Padre. 
Angel parked his bike on the ridge overlooking the town, the sun beginning its descent in the desert sky in swirling hues of pastels and cotton candy pink-purple-blue overtaking the orange hue. 
You had never been up here before, and you told Angel as much. He looked pleased at that, pleased that he was the one to show you the best view of the Santo Padre sunset. 
Angel busied himself unpacking the bags on the side of his bike while you enjoyed the scenery. Pulling out a couple of wrapped sandwiches and bottles of water, he handed yours to you, coming to stand next to you on the ridge. 
"Thanks," you acknowledged, looking at the offerings. "What, no beer?"
Angel chuckled a little at that.
"I ain't tryna liquor you up, niña. Besides, you want warm beer that's been rattling around on my bike all afternoon?"
You crinkled your nose a little at that. "No," you decided. "Never mind. Besides, I'm more of a whiskey girl."
Angel glanced at you, sipping on his own water idly.
"Really?"
"Really," you confirmed. "Don't tell me you're one of those guys who thinks it's impressive when a girl drinks whiskey because it's such a 'man thing.' "
Angel held up one hand, defensively. 
"Nunca. Just took you for more of a… dunno? Maybe a rum kinda girl?"
"Don't think so. For now, though? Water and sandwiches do me just fine. Whiskey can come later." You took a bite of the now-unwrapped sandwich. "This is good," you confirmed around a slightly-full mouth. "Did you make this?"
"Of course. Pop owns the butcher shop down the street from your parlour. Sliced the meat myself, an' all," he said, a little proudly now that he knew you approved of his sandwich-making skills.
"Bueno," you giggled. "Thank you for this, Angel. Really. This is one of the nicest nights I've had since moving here." You shuffled a little closer to where he was standing, looking in his eyes as you thanked him.
"Bah," he waved away your compliments, "it ain't alla that. This can't be the most exciting thing you've done since getting here."
"Maybe it is," you pressed. "I dunno. Maybe I'm too boring for the king of the bikers?"
"I doubt that very seriously, querida," he turned his body so he was facing you now, sandwich long gone, fiddling with the water bottle in his hands. "You play your cards right, I'll introduce you to the rest of the club. Then things'll get really exciting."
You blinked. One date and he already was thinking about introducing you to his friends? Your inner shy romantic (okay, not so "inner," right? You're pretty clear about who you are) was doing little somersaults in your chest. 
You must've been silent a beat too long because Angel was quick to supplement, "Only if you want."
"I'd like that," you confirmed, nodding and smiling gently. 
"So, are you gonna tell me what brings an East Bay girl here?" 
You raised a brow. You didn't remember telling him where you moved from. He rubbed his hand along the back of his neck nervously, realizing you'd caught his slip. 
"I maaaay have scrolled your Instagram?"
You finished your sandwich, thinking about how much you wanted to tell him.
"Just time for a change of scenery. Olí is an old friend, and he offered me a job. I think he wants to travel more." You shrugged, "It just felt like it was time. Plus, I dunno… I like it here. Much quieter."
Angel nodded at that, not having the heart to tell you that his club was not at all quiet and was the source of the disruption in the otherwise-quaint town. 
You kept talking, telling him about the friends you'd left behind, your old shop, weekends spent in the park surrounding Lake Merritt, and going to Raiders games. Angel took in your features as you spoke, the golden light of the sunset making you glow like something out of a dream he'd had once. Your eyes sparkled as you talked about things you loved, the books and art that inspired your poetry. How you'd gone to art school. You were something.
"-- Sorry, I'm rambling," you breathed in a rush, flush with the amount of talking you'd been doing in a record amount of time. "What? Do I have something in my teeth?"
Angel realized he'd been staring as long as you'd been talking.
"No, querida. Nothing in your teeth." He gave you a dazzlingly white smile.
"Oh thank God," you returned his smile with a small one of your own, shying a little under his gaze, and wondering how long he had been looking at you like that as you'd talked.
He leaned over you now, his height giving him the definite advantage as he'd -- not unwelcomely-- invaded your space. He brought one hand up to cup your chin, his dark eyes revealing flecks of sparkling gold in the pastel wash of the sunset as his gaze once again met yours.
You saw his quick glance down at your lips, you unconsciously giving a small nod before his warm lips met yours.
Oh.
You had obviously been kissed before, been the recipient of past romantic attention. All of that paled in comparison, melting away as Angel's full lips maneuvered over yours, both of his large, calloused hands gently brushing your cheeks as he cupped your face, sliding one hand down to rest on the side of your neck.
You sighed lightly, one of your own hands twined into his shirt, the other resting on the side of his firm torso. 
Angel took the opportunity to slide his tongue past your lips, your own brushing against his as the kiss deepened.
 You were in no hurry for the kiss to end, enjoying the way everything about Angel was so warm, something that was surprisingly welcome, despite the ever-present desert heat of Santo Padre. You could get used to this. 
You had only known Angel a short time, realistically. Your one meeting spawning a series of flirtatious texts and snaps, and now this date that, while low-key, felt almost too perfect to be real. He made you feel safe, desired.
You could already feel him slipping beneath your skin to rest in a special place in your heart. And while you as a person were generally reticent to share that part of yourself with anyone, you had a feeling Angel could take up permanent residence there. If he wanted. 
You dropped from your tip-toes, effectively breaking the kiss.
Angel blinked, looking down at you and noting the pleasant glow on your skin, lips now slightly swollen from his kiss. He could get used to this.
The rest of the evening passed in a pleasant blur, trading quips and stories as the sun went down. Angel told you about his club, his brothers. About his pop and Ezekiel, and how at one time, he enjoyed being the bigger brother, teasing, pranking and lording over EZ until EZ had hit his growth spurt and could (and would) definitely hit back. 
As he drove you home, you snuggled a little bit against him, pressing yourself into his back and enjoying the way you swore you could feel his heart pounding through the kutte and over the rumble of the bike and the road.
He'd dropped you off with a parting kiss and the promise of another date.
Another date turned into several. Time you weren't at the shop was now spent with Angel, showing him what you were working on, inviting him over for dinners and to watch mindless television while he told you what he could about his day. 
The both of you were slowly peeling back the layers around your respectively guarded hearts, revealing more of yourselves only to be met with pure acceptance by the other. Even blindados had to take off their armour at some point. 
You cherished your time with Angel, and he quickly found himself stumbling, head over his own biker-booted heels for you.
After a few months had passed, he had brought you to meet the club. You had manifested nothing but general acceptance of his lifestyle and were eager to meet the people Angel had so obviously cared for. Who had helped shape him into the brash but conscientious person he was with you. 
And one sunny afternoon had found you bringing lunch you had made for the entire club over to the scrapyard, Angel agreeing with your plan. You never were one to show up empty-handed. 
As you walked across the yard, past the gate, and into the clubhouse, your eyes adjusting to the dim interior from the blinding sun outdoors, Angel bounded over to greet you. Taking the bag full of homemade goodies from your arms, he pressed quick kisses to your cheeks, and one to your forehead. 
He turned, met with the pleasantly-surprised stares of his brothers. He announced your name to the room before turning to you, pointing at each man and supplying a name. You nodded, smiling and offering a warm wave to each. 
The man you knew to be EZ from all of Angel's initial texts and photos quickly strode over to you, shaking your hand in his impressively firm grip before bending down to press a quick kiss to your cheek with a,
"Bienvenido, hermanita. Angel's told me a lot about you. Won't shut up, really," giving you a sly wink as Angel swatted EZ's arm in annoyance at his brother's revelation.
Boys.
The smaller man with the sharp eyes and full curls you knew to be Coco made his way over to where you were now seated as Angel went to get you both drinks, the other men digging into your offerings as you made yourself comfortable.
He sat next to you, tossing you a, "You mind?" Lighting his cigarette after you’d shaken your head.
He studied you through his own plumes of smoke before leaning across the table and speaking to you, lowly and with an almost conspiratorial rasp to his voice,
"You did that cover-up for Angel?" He asked on a smooth exhale.
"Mhmm," you nodded. "He gave me free reign. I was nervous he'd hate it."
Coco seemed to chew over your words for a dragging moment. You shifted in your seat. He was definitely sizing you up.
"Bold move, pequeña, giving the secretario of a biker club a sleeve of flowers." 
"I suppose it was," you sighed, more than a little uncertain now. "But it felt meaningful, right, I guess. I just sort of… started drawing. I… think it worked out, though?" You trailed off.
Coco nodded. "It's a fuckin' good piece, mami. Angel told me what you'd said about memories making you who you are." He snorted lightly through his nose. "It's funny. We've never even met before, and you're already sounding like me." 
A small smile played across his lips, returning it with one of your own.
"I'm glad you approve," you nodded. "Angel's opinion obviously matters, and don't tell him I told you this, but it means alot coming from one of his family." 
And that's what they were. His family. You could see it. The obvious camaraderie and care underlying each of their actions with the other. You admired the system of support, cushioned by good humor, despite being flung regularly into harsh reality. It was clear -- they were there for one another.
Coco's voice broke your train of thought,
"Maybe you got space for me in your books one-a these days?"
Your small smile was a full-blown, sunny grin now.
"Of course. Anytime you want to drop by, you're more than welcome." 
"Gracias, chica." Coco leaned across the table and patted your shoulder before getting up and taking his leave.
And so it went. The boys would filter through your shop. Olí teasing you about his offense that all of his most lucrative, inked clients were now going to you. 
You enjoyed the time working on pieces for them afforded you -- offering you a glimpse into their inner workings, what they felt was important enough to take up permanent residence along their skin. Making idle chit-chat with you while you worked. And always, always sharing embarrassing little anecdotes about Angel. 
The months passed with you and Angel, finding comfort in your unpredictable, but welcome, respective routines. 
One night in particular found Angel wrapped up in your embrace, the physical embodiment of your gradual and growing trust in one another.
He had arrived home more than a little rattled, his eyes wildly darting to the corners of the room before settling in you, exhaling a shaky breath before striding the length of the room and crushing you to him, pressing a bruising kiss to your lips. 
You understood he probably couldn't tell you what had happened, but you asked anyway, needing him to know you would hear him.
"Angelito, everything okay?" 
He shook his head softly in the negative, but didn't elaborate. 
You pressed a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. 
"Okay. We don't have to talk about it," you wound your arms up and around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer to you. "But it's going to be okay. I've got you. I won't let go."
He gripped your wrists, pulling your hands from his neck and sliding your arms down, bringing them to rest around his waist. Once he had positioned you where he wanted, he brought his hands to cup your cheeks, eyes heavy and dark with the weight of his stormy thoughts. 
He nodded at what you had said before bringing his lips back to yours. 
You brought one hand up to meet his, where it rested along your cheek. You twined your fingers through, joining your hands while breaking the kiss. You lead him through the apartment, bringing him to the bedroom. You had music softly playing from your speaker in the corner, candles lit to bathe the room in ambient glow and a warm, honey smell, all in anticipation of Angel's eventual arrival home.
You silently gestured for him to sit on the edge of the bed, where you took your seat next to him. 
You tugged the leather kutte from his shoulders, folding it reverently and placing it on the chair near the bed. He exhaled in relief, shoulders sagging once the leather manifestation of his obligation to a darker world had been removed. The weight of the world a little less on the mantle of his shoulders. 
You turned your attention to his feet next, unlacing and tugging off his boots. Then, his belt. 
Once he was just in his jeans and his t-shirt, you resumed your seat at his side, bringing him back into your embrace and carding your hands through his hair, as his head rested on your shoulder. 
Angel spoke, voice cracking as he broke the seal of silence in the room. 
"It was… it was awful, Frida." He sighed. "I do everything they ask. It's my job … Fuck. Sometimes I wonder how much more my heart can take. But then, I get to come home to you." 
His breath was shuddering now.
And while you didn't always know what to say -- it was a rare sight to see Angel so rattled. But you were a caregiver by nature, ready to give him the pieces of yourself that would make him feel whole.
You guided him down so that he could recline, you came to rest at his side, winding your arms around his torso, your face turned into his neck, cuddling him as he came down from the mania of his emotional high.
The moments passed, Angel's breathing leveling again as you stroked his hair in time to the soft music.
He turned his head to look at you, admiring the flutter of your lashes as you blinked at him, your gaze warm and adoring, full of twinkling fairy light and starshine. 
"Te amo, querida," Angel breathed. This was not the first time he had said it to you during your months together. But each time felt as momentous as the first, each declaration of love felt like the slip of something sweet, and you were determined to store it in your heart and mind forever.
"I love you too, Angel. More than anything," you murmured. "I love your smile, your sense of humor, your strength." You pressed kisses to his face and neck with each admission. "Mostly, I love your strength. And that you trust me enough to tell me when you don't always feel it."
He sucked in a shuddering breath before whispering to you,
"I love your mind. How creative you are. How you see everything so beautiful, just like you," he hmm’d. "Mostly I love your trust. And that you choose to give it to me." 
You kissed him again, leaning over him with your entire body, pressing your palms gently into his shoulders. 
As your kiss deepened, you each began to tug at the other. His hands carded through your hair, tugging gently, but firmly. You lifted his shirt from his torso, the kiss breaking so you could peel it away.
You divested one another of each layer, baring yourselves to the other, body and soul. Again, this wasn't the first time you had done this. But this felt momentous nonetheless. 
Angel skimmed his hands over your form, running his hands softly down and over your breasts, loving your soft sigh at his touch. 
You leaned over him once more, reluctantly removing his hands from you, and placing them gently down at his sides. 
"Your heart is mine, mine to protect," You hummed softly, invading his senses and placing kisses down Angel's neck and to his chest, trailing your lips lovingly over Angel's heart, and pressing one last deliberate kiss there. "And I take my job very seriously." 
As you kissed him, you lightly trailed your fingers down his torso, coming to rest at his hip.
Your declaration was met with silence; you glanced up at Angel through your lashes only to find him already looking down through heavy-lidded eyes at you, his now swirling with some unnamed, weighted emotion.
You trailed your hand across his hip, not breaking eye contact as you took his hardening length into your hand. He inhaled sharply at the sensation of your grip, but refused to look away as you began to pump him slowly, still pressing kisses to his hips, torso and thighs. 
"Please, querida," Angel gasped.
"Please, what?" You murmured back, your voice taking a throaty register you reserved strictly for private moments with your beloved.
"Please… use your pretty mouth?" 
You nodded. 
"Relájate, baby, I've got you," you assured. Sweeping your hair back, the action washing Angel with the sweeping comfort of your scent as you made your way lower down his body. 
Angel slumped back against the bedspread, glittering galaxy eyes still trained on you as you lavished him with attention. 
You took the opportunity to flatten your tongue, licking a broad stripe up the length of him, one hand braced against his firm thigh, the other holding him gently at the base of his cock as you worked.
You swirled your tongue around the tip of him, delighted at his throaty moans, feeling the effect they had on you, making you feel like you were burning from the inside, feeling the slickness from your own center as your thighs rubbed together. 
Taking Angel wholly into your mouth now, you bobbed over him, relishing in the heavy feel of him in your mouth and the throaty groans you received from Angel in response. 
Before you could spend too long lavishing him with attention, Angel tugged on your hair at the base of your neck. Following his grip, you lifted your head and released him from, watching (a little greedily) as his thick length bobbed against him when you relinquished him from the confines of your mouth. 
He guided you up his body, hand still knotted in your hair, pushing his mouth onto yours, uncaring of the saliva on your lips and chin, and the taste of himself on your tongue. 
You straddled his hips, surging the rest of the way up his body and effectively deepening the kiss. The hand that was once in your hair now made its way to loosely grip at your throat, the other skimming his way down your breasts, across your ribs and toward your center.
As his fingers traced through your folds, you involuntarily rolled your hips into his hand, alight at his touch, and desperately seeking more. 
Angel touching you was like the shock of a live wire. Every time felt just as electric as the last, goosebumps erupting across your flesh as his fingers traced across your skin. 
He chuckled through your fused mouths, drawing back at your reaction and the wetness he found between your legs.
"Eager, amor?" Every word fell that fell from his lips sounded like a dangerous purr.
You nodded, drunk on the way Angel's hand gently squeezed your throat, while the other was teasingly making its way to-and-fro across your wet folds, occasionally making his way up to lightly circle and press his thumb over your clit, making your eyelids flutter. Your hips continued to rock against his hand, silently begging for more, his teasing touch making you more than a little crazy.
"Yeah?" Angel asked, his voice thick and syrupy, the timbre like dark clouds. "That shit turn you on? Sucking my cock?"
His words combined with his touch made another rush of heat flood through you. You were certain you would pass out, that your knees would buckle. And you were doing so well, holding your place up and over his hips while he played with you.
The hand on your throat gripped a little tighter, causing your eyes to flutter shut.
"Nuh-uh, baby," he shook you lightly, all mirth gone from his eyes, no more pleasant, smiling crinkles at the corners. His full lips pressed firmly together. "I asked you a question. You answer that shit"
He pressed two fingers teasingly against your entrance, refusing to insert them, despite the little roll of your hips.
"Y-yeaahh," you sighed, head tossed back, "I-I fucking love it -- love you, Angel."
He rewarded you by sliding a long finger into you, allowing you to ride his hand. The hand still around your throat guiding you forward, over him, allowing him to press hot, open-mouthed kisses, first to your lips, dirty and raw, like an exposed nerve in his unabashed want for you. 
He relinquished his hold on your neck, allowing him to trail his lips and his tongue there, kissing you softly behind your ear, down and around your neck to your collarbones, all while his fingers continued their earnest treatment inside of you, his thumb now pressing to your clit, your warming crescendo building.
Using his height and the fact that you were straddling him, Angel encouraged you to lean forward, allowing him to capture one of your breasts in his grip, his mouth following. His warm tongue swirled around your nipple before he sucked the bud into his mouth, grazing his teeth ever so gently over your sensitive flesh.
Angel's attention was rewarded with your gasping sighs and breathy moans. How anyone could make you feel this good was beyond you. Angel had an uncanny ability to elicit responses and feelings like no other person before him.
You felt the thrumming hum and warm, sticky wave of your orgasm building as Angel worked his fingers inside of you, stroking that particular spot from within that he knew would be your undoing.
"O-oh," you whined, keening noises caught in your throat. "Please, baby, I n-need you. Need you inside." 
The room was sweltering. Or was it just you? Angel withdrew his fingers smoothly, not sparing you the chance to be disappointed at the loss of feeling as he smoothly flipped the two of you, guiding you down to the mattress and hovering over your trembling form. 
"Yeah?" Angel asked. "You ready for that, querida?"
You gazed up at him through your lashes, longingly. He would give everything, anything, that he had in the world if you only looked at him like that forever, gaze full of warmth, heat, and unfiltered, starry adoration. 
"Mmm," you nodded, "Please? Angel?"
He was only a man, after all. Who was he to refuse when you asked so prettily for him?
He gently turned you over so that your back was to him, running his hands down the slope of your back and guiding you to your knees, propping your hips up.
Positioning himself behind you, Angel resumed his grip on your throat, using it to guide your head around so that he could kiss you again while he guided himself inside of you. You moaned into the kiss at the sensation, never tired of feeling every ridge of his thick cock sliding into you like he belonged there.
Angel groaned, breaking the kiss and shaking his head, chuckling darkly, his eyes flashing as he swore, 
"Never fuckin' get tired of that shit," he began to move his hips, using his other hand that was gripping your hip to guide you along his lengthy, meeting his thrusts. "Never tired of your pussy … You're so … good."
Angel's words coupled with his thrusts were driving you crazy, causing you to eagerly meet him with the momentum of your own hips, the heat in the room spliced with the distinctive noise of his skin meeting yours. 
Angel, leaning over your back, crowded your every sense, the taste of him, of his kisses still lingering on your tongue. Your ears met with the harmony of your two bodies and the filthy words and sounds coming from Angel's mouth. The sight of him was as intoxicating as ever, as you looked over your shoulder at him, the shadows of the room playing across his tawny skin, glimmering in the low light with the sheen of sweat you knew was also present on yours.
“Say my name,” Angel pants into the slick skin on your back, kissing a line down your spine, his body covering yours possessively.
You were too caught up in everything Angel, failing to respond quickly enough for his liking as you gasped at every thrust.
A crack of heat flashed across your ass, Angel swatting you there once. You should be annoyed, but you couldn't lie -- you fucking loved it when he was like this. Only for you. 
"A-angel," you sighed, the crescendo of your orgasm climbing, threatening to burst any second, you tightening around Angel.
"Bueno," he purred. "You close? Yeah, you fucking are," Angel snarled, taking in the way you threw your hips back desperately to meet him, squirming one hand beneath you to touch yourself. "You can have it, baby, I'll make it good. You just gotta ask pretty for me." 
You deepened the arch in your back, flexing your hips back toward Angel, and gripping the bedspread before you in your fingers, face pressed flush with the sheets, your other hand still pressed to your clit.
Angel tilted your head, leaning over further and gripping your jaw, squeezing to pucker your cheeks. He kissed you, sucking your lower lip between his. He kissed you gently, a deceptive contrast to the hand gripping your face, his hips snapping into yours at a now-brutish pace. He pecked another light kiss to your lips, followed by another, gently biting your lip and dragging it lightly as he drew his face from yours.
He released your lips as you whispered another plea into his mouth.
"Come on then, baby." 
Your orgasm washed over you, pinpricks of striking matches splintering across your skin, followed by a euphoric wave of white-heat, blissfully soothing every nerve it had just lit.
Angel followed, emptying himself into you with a few final thrusts, groaning at the way you tightened just so around him. 
He withdrew gently, collapsing next to you as you both caught your breath. 
Your lashes fanned your cheeks as you blinked hazily at the form of your love through the soft glow of the room.
"I do love you, Angel," you told him, leaning across the sheets to rub your nose back and forth against his, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth, grazing your soft fingers against the lines of his forehead, easing them away into an expression of soft serenity. "Always."
---
Now, you walked out of the clubhouse, around to the side of the porch, a quiet corner away from the noise. Willing yourself to calm down as small, hot tears trickled their way, uninvited, down your cheeks. 
Your thoughts were moving a million miles a second, the battle of luck you were waging with the universe saw you quickly losing. 
The year you spent with Angel replaying itself in your mind. Every word, every touch, that goddamn tattoo. Remembrance, my ass. How you would hold him when he came home too high-strung and strung-out emotionally for words. How you would save the best leftovers for him when you knew he had been away and would be craving the Chinese food from the place down the block when he got back. How he felt inside of you on the coldest nights and in the most tender mornings. How he would whisper enchanting endearments into the shell of your ear as he rolled his hips into yours, your mind and body completely his. How you would wear his shirts and overly-large socks around his apartment, leaving doodles and scribbled poems on sticky notes for him to find in his moments alone. How he kissed you warmly, his tongue sweeping into your mouth like syrupy possession that you never wanted to end. 
How it did end. How he had thrown out your world, crumpled it into a crushed paper ball and tossing it away with the carelessness of a child. Ending things with seemingly no spare thought for your feelings. How EZ had let slip when he saw you in town that Angel was expecting a kid, the timing of everything suddenly making a little more sense. How it made you feel, now that you knew you were wholly his, but he was never entirely yours. How you had kept to yourself in the months that followed, the cracks in your heart widening until you felt like you would drown in them. 
The pulse of your feelings for him, always strong; they warm you. But it was still you they all left behind. 
Your thoughts were still swirling when, off to the side, you heard the porch door open and close again, and you prayed that whomever was coming outside was going to have a smoke out front, or that they were on their way out. That they wouldn’t find you. 
But of course, these things never worked out how you wanted them. You cursed any god you could think of for just how un-fucking-lucky you were sometimes. 
Because, really, who other than Angel was making his way around the porch to you? Taking in your hunched form as you leaned over the railing, looking anywhere but at him. 
Of fucking course.
You kept your eyes down, focused in your clasped hands as you leaned over the railing, refusing to look at him. 
And now? Now he was looking at you, and it's the one time you wished he wouldn't. 
One thing you wouldn't do, now that he was here, was break the silence first. He didn't want to hear what you'd had to say, so why would you grace him with your thoughts now? Petty? Sure. But you weren't the one in there with your hands on some ass while a so-called friend harassed your ex. 
A few uncomfortable beats dragged on before Angel broke the silence, shattering it like glass with a verbal hammer.
"What'd he say to you?"
You remained silent.
"What the fuck did he say, Frida?" His voice angry now, demanding. The same tone he used to break your heart. 
"It ain't working. Not my fuckin’ fault you can't see it."
You rolled your eyes, another shard of icy glass painfully wedging into your heart at his use of the name. Still refusing to look in his direction when you replied, softly but sharply, 
"You know exactly what he said. What I'm trying to figure out is why, exactly, you care."
"I care, Frida," was all he offered.
You snorted in response. Undignified, sure. But couldn't he see this was killing you? Where was his mercy?
"I do," he insisted, the thud of his boots across the wood of the porch indicating that he was crossing to you, coming to stand a ways behind you.
"I'm not going to do this with you. He said some shit. It's over. We move on. What more could you have to say about that?"  
Keep it simple, keep yourself safe. You gave him nothing to say back. And then… 
"And if I told you I wanted you? I wanted you back?"
You whipped your head around to -- finally -- meet Angel's eyes, which you did for a fleeting moment before zeroing in once more on your shoes, staring resolutely at the ground. You were not going to let him see you cry again, godfuckingdamnit.
The fleeting glimpse of his face, of his eyes meeting yours once more after all this time, was enough. He looked more tired up close than he had before. Still unfair in his striking beauty, his midnight eyes still enough to pull you in, drown you in their oceanic depths. You hated it. Hated that he still had that power over you. But try as you might, you couldn't hate him. 
Your silence was killing Angel with the precision of a thousand miniscule cuts. Each deeper than the last. Until he couldn’t take it any longer. He reached through the space between, for where your hand rested on the railing. You saw the gesture coming, and whipped your hand away at the last moment, cradling it to your chest like he had burned you. You faced him fully now.
You chuckled softly, wryly, and devoid of any humor before you muttered, "You don't want me, baby. Please don't lie."
“And how do you know that’s a lie?” Angel mumbled thickly, working his tongue around the words, through his own emotion. 
You scuffed your toe into the hewn wood of the deck, shrugging before you responded, simply, 
“If I was what you wanted, you wouldn’t have gone looking elsewhere. And you certainly wouldn't have found someone else. You wouldn’t have said what you said, ended it like you did, with everything on just your terms.” You sighed deeply, with the rattle of tears lodged into your chest before you spoke again, “You made up your mind and never even let me say a word. If you wanted anything to do with me, you could have at least given me a word.” 
Angel blinked, hard. The familiar pressure of real tears building behind his eyes. You were right of course. And fuck, weren't you always? You'd always told him like it was, harsh truths that only you could cushion in your gentle, empathetic way. 
"Please, querida, just let me explain what happened--" 
You held up your hand, shaking your head firmly, effectively silencing Angel.
"No!" Much softer now, "No. I- I'm sorry, Angel, I don't mean to be rude. But, no." Your voice small, but clear, as you'd finally gotten your opportunity to say something back to him. "I, uh, I don't want to hear any explanation, and you really don't have to?"
You lilted the last part like it was a question, but continued on. 
"You, um, you've had a lot of time to tell me something, anything, about what the fuck happened. And you didn't. You left me with nothing. Just confusion and hurt, and I've made peace with that. It's taken a while, but … I just… I don't need that from you. I gave you space, always respected your decisions and opinions, and now you won't do the same. You're still trying to take from me. Offering me an explanation now?" You scoffed. "That isn't for me, and don't fuckin’ act like it is -- it's for you. And I understand that, that's fine. I'm not angry at you for that, but I'm also not going to humor it." 
You exhaled shakily, you couldn't believe you'd said all of that, that you had made it through.
Angel was speechless. It made your heart feel even sicker -- all of this silence from him for so long, and he'd offered to explain himself and you'd (gracefully) told him to fuck off. Why had you done that??
It was about time you'd stood up for yourself, that's why. 
An explanation would be nice, sure. But where Angel's words, whispered affirmations and heady declarations of love, had once made your soul swell and sing… now, you knew, anything he'd had to say to you would only serve to do the opposite. 
And your heart, perpetually bruised by nature of you being a hopeless romantic, just couldn't take it. 
You hopped off the porch, spinning around to face Angel, finding his eyes on you still. Hadn't you wished for him to look at you? To really see you once more? 
"I'm out," you tossed a thumb over your shoulder toward where you'd parked your car. "Sorry, I don't mean to abandon the old post, but uh, I'm sure you guys have someone to fill in. I'll text Aneesa to grab my stuff, don't worry about it." 
Like he would, you thought.
You were mostly rambling to yourself, and not really to Angel, as you backed away, fleeing to your car. 
Angel watched you go, the resonant ache in his chest that had been ever-present since tossing your stuff out, amplified when Luisa had left him, and now sure to be permanent, buried in cement beneath the weight of his every decision, and every word.
You looked good, he thought. Your hair was longer than when he'd seen you last. Your little skirt flouncing as you strode away. Your skin still glowed, full lips still twisted into that wry smile of yours that he had seen from across the room. All of that was true, but your eyes were also tired, and your smile never quite reached them. 
The thought that he was responsible for dimming that sparkle made him feel sicker than he already had. The way you had brushed off Andres, despite his obnoxious insistence, and the things the cocky  new patch had said to you -- may as well add those to the ever-growing pile of things stained and tainted by Angel's guilt.
And he was left alone with that guilt as you left the lot. He turned back to the party. His cool facade slipping back into place. Not ready to face the wrath of EZ and Coco, surely waiting inside to proverbially beat his ass.
What would you say if I come over? And we stand face to face now that we're older?
---
Angel shuffled into his apartment, the late hour catching up to his weary form as he ambled over to his bedside, flicking on the lamp. 
Rubbing a large hand down his face, he sat on his bed in a huff of exhaustion. Your first encounter in months since he'd all-but tossed you from this very room was pricking him with a kind of nauseating nervous  energy. But all he wanted to feel in that moment was you, whether he deserved it or not.
He'd still had it, didn't he? Where was it?
He pulled open the drawer of his nightstand, fishing through its contents for what he hoped was still in there.
His fingers curled over his prize -- a slip of paper adorned with your handwriting. Scrawled lines of poetry on a neon pink Post-It note, curled with age and disuse, something you had left for him while he slept in one morning. 
“I was thinking of you,” you had said when he had asked you about it later, shrugging as if it were the most matter-of-fact thing in the world. 
Your love for him was clean in its simplicity and forwardness, whenever he could wade his way through the mire of your shy demeanor. You had stuck the Post-It to his nightstand while he was sleeping and you made your way to work. Your words were cramped and crunched into the small paper square, but ready to greet him with the shining light of a sunny new day. 
“I see your ardor through a pearlescent lense, and all is pleasantly pink and blurry with you-- Resplendent in your love's solar hope. You are so warm beneath the brush of my fingertips, and I burn. So in love with you, as I am and as I do."
Now, his eyes scanned the words for the millionth time since you had written them. He had committed it to memory by now, wishing he could hold you instead of this crumpled piece of paper, mocking him with its annoyingly bright pink hue.
But how could he? Angel was the kind of man who simmered in his emotion -- burning slowly, lowly, only to reach a pitch. He kept to himself until he couldn’t any longer -- and then it was all bleeding hearts on a very crisp sleeve. 
He had done what he had thought was right. Cutting you out with all of the brutality and finesse of a battleaxe, to focus on Luisa and his unborn son. He thought she was what he wanted. But now, he didn’t even have them. He had nothing to show for his decisions but the lonely, sick feeling ever-present in his chest. 
The you at the beginning of your relationship would have kissed each bruise in his soul, one by one, until they were better. Would have gifted him with the warmth of your time and attention until he was made whole again with the molten heat of your gracious heart. But the you now? 
Angel could never, would never, cover the tattoo on his arm, though he had thought about it. Blacking it out once and for all, so the piece of you he wore on his sleeve would finally match the  pitch, and emptiness inside. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it. It was, as he’d said all that time ago, your gift to him. And he’d made you a promise that he wouldn’t. 
All he wanted was to look you in the eyes so he could remember that he loved you once.
And not that he had any reason to know it, but across town, you had made it home. Your phone shoved to the bottom of your bag, lighting up with texts from Aneesa, EZ, and Coco. But the only person on your mind was Angel. 
How much of what he had said was true? You weren't sure. But you were sure that you knew where you stood, still painfully alone and in love as ever, the cracks in your heart only fillable by the very person you had brushed off earlier.
And, while Angel readied himself for bed, snapping the lights off and attempting to cut through the oppressive darkness by staring at the ceiling with his own penetrative gaze, the empty side of the bed had never felt more cavernous, but more weighted. Mocking. 
If Angel was being honest with himself -- something he was never too keen on being in his more sobering moments -- he didn't love you once. He still loved you.
Thinking after all this time, I just wanna meet your eyes so I can remember why... Why I loved you once.
Tagging:
@themarcusmoreno @ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa @steeeeeeeviebb @qveenbvtch @mxsamwilson @ifimayhaveaword @huliabitch @pettyprocrastination @phoenixhalliwell @flightlessangelwings @cinewhore @velvetmel0n @moonlight-prose @rebeccasficrecs @videogamesandpoorlifechoices @aerolanya @djvrins @jenrebloggingfics @ciriswife @justanotherblonde23 @superhoeva @witching-hour​ @luckyharley1903​
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bonny-kookoo · 4 years ago
Text
Rabbit Boy | JJK x Reader | 🔞
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Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader
Wordcount: 10.3k (Long)
Genre: Romance, Friends/strangers to lovers, Smut, BDSM because I'm making that a genre now
Tags/Warnings: BDSM themes (please I'm begging you stop reading my shit if it makes you uncumfortable), mentions of restrainment, light shibari, edging, orgasm denial (very mild), Subspace, Domspace because yes thats a thing, Dom/sub dynamics, Biting, Oral (m and f receiving), riding, and not the horseback kind if you know what I mean, protected sex yes, we love an organized household, there's just so much sweet filth istg
Summary: Jungkook is wild, untamed, and doesn't really commit to anyone for long. But maybe, you're his only exception in this world. Maybe, you're really that perfect partner he's been looking for.
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Jungkook likes to think of himself as an artist.
Sure, if people knew exactly what the young man does in his freetime (or as a side job, don't judge, we all want to make money out of our hobbies stop lying to yourself), they would surely look at him differently.
But he's an artist, nonetheless.
Technically, Jungkook also doesn't need to do what he does simply for the money. No, his main job pays very well- considering that he's one of the top elite in his genre of games. He doesn't just merely play and win a game; Jungkook, just like most things he touches, claims complete ownership of the match he's fighting. It's a well known fact that he's someone who likes things for himself. He loves control, craves to lead, and hates to be belittled.
Oh and yeah- financially, investing in an indie-game three years back had also done his bank account some good.
Now, at an age where he can be fully considered a man, and not a boy anymore, he craves control in different aspects of life- and love.
Jungkook has a problem however.
He's wild.
Not in the way one might think he is (although several people could argue that yes, that's also the case in bed..) but generally. He loves to control- but he hates to be tied down.
And a mindset like that doesn't work well with relationships.
He's had them before, don't get him wrong. He's had numerous in the past, but they all either broke apart because he would hold that particular desire back, making him antsy and moody, or he would welcome his partners into his world, and become uncomfortable with the way things would progress.
No, he doesn't want to experiment. He knows exactly what he wants, and if that means he's 'close-minded' and a bad person, then so be it for him.
He never liked the constant company in his apartment anyways.
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"Ah, I've seen her before. She's usually a regular for Yoongi though." Taehyung says, checking a name for Jungkook, who's doodling on a napkin while he waits for his new appointment to show up. "I see. I forgot that Yoongi took some days off recently- that's probably why she's now under your hand." He explains, and Jungkook huffs, his blonde hair tickling his cheek.
"So I'll have to adjust? I mean, Yoongi's style is pretty different from mine." The young man says, not looking up. He simply continues his little sketch of braided hair, while the lanky guy behind the counter clicks away on his laptop.
"Probably? I can't check the logs since they're private, but from what I know Yoongi only did the usual with her." he explains, shrugging as he looks at his friend and colleague. "I can re-schedule her to Hoseok if you want?" He asks, and Jungkook, after finishing his drawing, lets the pen fall and stretches.
"Yeah, that would probably be best. Wouldn't know what to do if she drops- rather not have him rip my head off, thanks." He says, before he gets up.
"Ah- you're still coming over tonight right? Y/N said she's gonna cook for us." He says, and Jungkooks body shivers a little.
Your name is nothing new to him, but the reaction to it most certainly was. You're a friend of Yoongi and Hoseok, having joined in on their gaming nights a few months ago after Yoongi had insisted you couldn't stay alone on a christmas day. Jungkook had never really asked why you were alone in the first place, but he had never really cared much for it either. Sure, you were an absolute gem to look at; technically absolutely his type, but he had early on decided not to pursue anything at all with you. He knew friendship wouldn't stay friendship with you, his own hunger way too large to simply be satiated by platonic gestures-
and he was also sure you wouldn't be able to handle him, truly. The conversation with Jimin, one of your best friends, had changed nothing about that. Because he didn't know you well enough to quite know if you were only bark and no bite- or if you were genuinely craving the same things he did.
But most recently, there had been a change in his opinion on you. Because he had seen you, come out of this place, out of Yoongis studio.
You knew about all of this- and you were still around.
Nothing had changed.
Now, of course he had instantly poked holes into the poor guy about if he had ever played with you before- and the answer he had gotten, had made him even more interested and antsy to get closer to you.
Because while you trusted Yoongi with everything you had, he had never done anything with you. You had simply been interested in watching a scene unfold- and had told him that you were definitely interested in participating. The reason Jungkook couldn't ask you directly was a clear one-
You were majorly intimidated by him, to the point of, he had never really had a proper conversation with you. Partially, he had to admit, because he himself didn't want to involve himself too much with you.
He’d always asked himself; wouldn’t you be even more distant and reserved with him if you knew this side of him? Sure, you always joked around that he probably tied his girls up and edged them until they cried- but did you know that he genuinely enjoyed these things?
Relationships for him were mere covers to call the arrangements he had with the girls that came and went in his life in a constant changing matter. Deep down, no one night stand could satisfy his most carnal desires, and he was very well aware of that. But he rather took what he could get and lived a fever dream for a few moments than stay on his own simply because his idea of pleasure and sex was not the norm.
No, he refused to deny himself that.
Maybe it was because he’d always lived a rather lavish life- with his parents well off and his own career skyrocketing he never really had any worries like you have had in the past. For some odd reason, while looking at the soft red rope in his hands, his thoughts suddenly went astray; he knew he could give you the stability you oh so craved, in every way shape and form. You were a diamond simply waiting to be perfected- you had so much potential, knowing that you were secretly wandering around the same paths as he did made him even more frustrated.
The hints were there, they were obvious; from the way you had sighed out in bliss when he’d teasingly pulled your hair just hours ago, to the sinful confessions he’d heard that night when he overheard you and jimin by accident. Of course he’d maybe wasted a thought or two of you underneath him to humor him once or twice- but now with the rope in his hands, his mind immediately began painting pictures of it against your skin. Would you enjoy it? And what if he took your sight, or only bound your hands? What if he denied you to cum, or if he took you from behind, grabbing your hair and pushing down your spine to make it arch so prettily- never with the intend to hurt, of course. He knew he’d have to tame you first, make you submit, but then again, he loved the challenge.
You made even the idea of touching fun.
He wouldn't even have to undress you to fully get himself worked up, he was sure of that. Only seeing you bow to his very command would be enough to satisfy him. Of course, over the course of time he would lead you deeper and deeper into his rabbit hole, but he would take it slow for you.
So, with a smile, and a wave of his hand, he walked past the girl he knew had been his appointment- grinning at Taehyung. "Of course I'll be there."
He wouldn't dare miss a night with you.
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You were stressing. A little.
Maybe.
Maybe a lot.
Everything would've been fine if they guys would've all come over. But due to the bad weather, and Taehyungs bad habit of never properly fixing his god-forsaken dumpster of a car, only one of them would be able to make it. And of course the one had to be Jeon Jungkook.
Just great.
Now, it wasn't like you didn't like the guy, no way. The problem was more, that he was on the exact opposite of that spectrum. You had a major crush on him, which felt like the plot to a really bad drama show you would watch drunk at night- and in a way, it really felt like one too. Because you were pretty sure, he didn't even know your name.
But oh well- apparently he knew more than that. More specifically, your phone number. And it had scared the shit out of you at first to receive a message from him because how the hell did he get your number, but then again you remembered that one of your connections was Kim Taehyung- and everyone knew what he knew.
It was the doorbell that ripped you out of your skin almost.
You didn't even change, deciding any effort would be too late anyways; and you were still heavily confused in the first place why the fuck he would come over alone, even though you two had never exchanged much more than a friendly hello and goodbye. But there he was, as you opened the door- soft, white hoodie and ripped jeans, a bit damp from the rain outside as you let him inside.
He didn't move.
"Uh-" You started, but he just looked at you, friendly as ever, although a teasing glint in his eye made you frown a bit.
He thought it was cute.
"You didn't tell me to come in." He said, and you blinked once, twice, before your brain had properly restarted.
"Oh uh- come in?" You said, again, moving a bit to the side so he could walk in- which he still didn't. "Jungkook come on now its fucking cold-!" You whined, and he laughed, finally stepping inside. Had he always been like that? Could very well be the case, after all, you had never truly paid much attention to his behavior before.
"Thanks for letting me come over." He said, and you watched him as he untied his boots. "I had nothing else to do- and also, I didn't want you to waste any food, considering Tae said you cooked for us." He explained, before he got up again from his half kneeling position, boots now standing next to your significantly smaller shoes.
"Ah, it would've been fine, you guys don't have to feel bad." You waved off, smiling. "I was about to stop cooking anyways when Jimin had texted me, but well, then you did and uhm.." You drifted off, noticing how you were suddenly waiting for him to lead the way.
In your own apartment.
What the hell?
If he noticed however, he didn't show it. He simply smiled, and moved his hands inside the front pocket of his hoodie. "Ah, thanks. I appreciate it, really." He said, and you smiled at him as well, walking towards the main area of your apartment. It was small, very small compared to his own, but he enjoyed the feeling of it. Everything around him reminded him of you, in a way; from the pictures taped to the walls, to the stickers on your fridge. It all held a piece of you in it. "Your apartment is really nice, by the way." He commented, and you turned around, before getting plates and cutlery to bring inside the living room.
"Ah, right, it's your first time here." You said. "Thanks- the living room is right around the corner there, you can just sit down and I'll bring everything there." You explained, and he smiled, nodding without arguing.
You liked that.
Typically, there would've been this awkward 'oh no let me help you', but Jungkook didn't seem to dwell on it much, letting you do your thing instead of butting in and making things weird. He simply walked where you had directed him, sitting down on the couch as he went to place a blanket to the side. His fingers moved over the fabric for a moment, noticing how everything on the couch, including the pillows, were made of that same, soft material.
Interesting.
"Oh- you can just put that to the side, sorry I forgot to clean that up." You said, putting the food onto the table as he just smiles again. He waits for you to sit down as well before you turn up the TV volume a little, nerves finally setting in as you notice there's almost nothing you can talk to him about. "This is awkward." You comment, and he chuckles at that swallowing his bite as he looks at you.
"Doesn't have to be." He states, before he turns his body a bit more into your direction; a visible sign that he wants a conversation. "Tae has never mentioned what you do for a living." He states, an unasked question of his. He lets you decide if you want to take it as one or leave it as a statement- it makes you feel nice, in a way.
"Ah uh.. it's really boring, so I guess I never really talk about it either.." You say, and he tilts his head a little, a silent urging for you to continue. You feel insignificant next o him and his job however. He's superior to you in any way, and you don't want him to feel pity or laugh at you for your job. "I uh.. I'm a programmer for a.. pretty unknown game studio." You say, body almost shrinking in on itself as you wait for his reaction. Much to your surprise however, he makes a sound that's purely surprise, as he swallows his bite with a bit of urgency.
"Fuck really?! That's so cool though!" He argues, brows furrowed a bit as he playfully accuses you with his next words. "Indie or not, a programmer is the main force of any game. Did you work on any games I might know of?" He asks, eyes sparkling as he realizes he had finally found something to bond with you over.
"Uh.. 'Rabbit Boy' was our best hit until now.." You say, still a bit shy, but you're also a tad more confident now. His reaction is either well-staged, or he's genuinely interested in what you do.
"I played it I think. It was a bit short, but I loved the mechanics." He says, and before he can quite stop himself, his hand has already reached out to you, running over your hair as he praises you like second nature. "Wuah, so smart!" He says, before he gets a reaction he wouldn't have thought he'd get from shy-you.
Because you playfully shove him, your socked feet pushed against the side of his thigh as you giggle at him.
Interesting, again.
Now, Jimin has actually told him about this before. How you were anything but the shy girl when you were around people you knew and trusted. He had believed it- to an extend- because he had also thought that maybe you were like that to prove your spot between those guys. As the only girl, you easily got thrown under the bus, so you had to somehow own your spot in the midst of your circle of friends.
However, it seemed like you were truly just a brat, hiding behind that innocent facade of yours. A barking dog, with every intent to bite if needed.
And Jungkook knew, he'd love to tame you, show you your spot, and make you his prey.
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The trashy movie your watching bores you, in a way. Jungkook has noticed this already, having taken note of your feet wiggling around, your teeth nibbling on the inside of your cheek, as you rest your cheek on your hand, elbow resting on the side of the couch.
“I don’t know why she’s so hesitant.” You mutter, pouting as you slump into the couch- uncaring that the side of your body now leans against his own. He feels your warmth- and for some reason it brings him comfort to notice that you’re seemingly growing more at ease. “I mean, it’s what she’s into, right?” You say, brows furrowed as you watch the screen.
“It’s not that simple.” Jungkook explains, trying to not make it obvious that he’s not necessarily talking about the movie. “Some men like to you know.. fight for a partner. Impress them. Win them over.” He explains, and he can feel you shift a little- until your head raises a bit, watching him as he watches you; gazes locked, and you can’t look away. You’re shy, you’re growing restless, but his eyes are like magnets; there’s no way you can avert your gaze.
“And.. you?” You ask, voice not loud at all, as if you don’t even notice you’re saying it. He loves that- loves the fact that you’re slowly letting him closer- not only physically.
“I like to earn my spot in their lives.” He states, and your mind suddenly begins to spin. You’ve always seen him as someone who doesn’t care much about emotions or feelings, or relationships for that matter. And maybe he doesn’t- maybe he just says this because he knows your weak spots. But the way his words fall into your ears makes you believe him. “I like to see my partner thrive; I love to see them grow. And..” he says, boldly deciding to slowly reach out his hand that was placed on the back of the couch- his fingers running through your hair, only brushing through, never pulling (no matter how much you’re craving it secretly). “I love to see them let go.” He humms out, and there’s a sudden shiver down your back, one that he definitely notices.
This is it. This is where you’ll let him touch you, let him wreck you, let him ruin you. You lean in closer, and so does he, but just when your lips are about to touch, he smiles gently- a warm affectionate gesture that you’ve never seen from him. And with it being directed at you, it’s even more meaningful- but it’s all about his next move, the way his inked fingers trace your cheek, before he speaks.
“You’re not ready yet.”
And with that, he turns back to the TV.
You huff, and it's the first time you know exactly what you're doing. You knew from Yoongi what Jungkook did in his freetime- you knew that this stuff was his expertise. Defeated, you looked down towards your knees, as your thoughts start to grow more and more frustrated. He probably didn't even see you like that, having only visited you out of pity, and not because he wanted to see you.
You were probably already friendzoned, and he was too nice to outright say it into your face. It made your emotions turn sour as the situation grew more and more awkward for you.
"What're you thinking about?" He asks, and you don't answer. What was there to say anyways? You really didn't want to have this weird conversation where he would tell you that oh yeah you're a nice girl, but he's not the right guy, the usual stuff you've already heard time and time again. "Y/N." He says, his voice dropping a little, but you only chew on the inside of your cheek again, eyes moving towards the TV screen. You didn't want to talk- you just hoped he would now sigh and get up, leaving so you could forget about all of this. You could maybe fake being sick for the next week or so to avoid him, yeah, that would be enough time to gloss over this entire situation. But he only clicks his tongue, hands suddenly moving your legs as he moves your body to face him.
Looking at his face is your first mistake.
His eyes are dark and almost angry, irritated as he looks as you. His jaw is clenched, and his hands stay on your knees for a moment, before he's sure enough that he has your attention. Only then does he speak, his voice nowhere near as soft and light as it had been before. "I know what you're thinking, and I don't like it." He says, and that's when you make your second mistake.
"Can we not right now? You don't know shit." You say, and he stares you down for a moment, until his head tilts a slight bit, eyes growing predatory as the corners of his lips tilt upwards. It resembles a small smile, yes, but it's not meant to be one. No, the first thing you have to think about is a wolf snarling at you, ready to put his packmate into their place for acting out.
It makes your spine tingle.
"Hm, maybe, but we can be classy about it, no?" He asks, and you scoff, trying to move your legs away from him, as he scans you.
At this point, he can see clearly that you're testing him.
So he gets up promptly, moving you around so you're standing in front of him. His inked hand finds your hair, gripping without mercy as he pulls your head back, your gaze now forced to stay on his as he calmly speaks. "You think I'm not into you like that- and you're as wrong as you could ever get." He says, biting his tongue as to not let a petname slip. He'd love to use them, but he knows that it's not yet time. That would be foul play, in a way; he doesn't want to seduce you.
He wants to make you understand.
"Trust me when I say I'd love to just throw you over my legs to spank that attitude out of you right now." He explains, and you whine- not in pain, but simply as a reaction to his confession. "But you don't know what you're getting yourself into." He continues, and pulls a bit to interrupt your next words. You know that you can get free any second you want to- but for some reason, there's no urge to do so. "You think of this as some game to play, you think of yourself as someone who can take all of it at once, but you don't even get the simplest and most important things about this entire thing." You swallow, as you stay still, finally giving up your fight as he relaxes the grip he still has on you. "Even now, it's not me controlling this situation. Its you." He says, letting go of you as his hands rest on your cheeks, eyes searching for any clues of discomfort. Only when he finds none, does he continue. "I will only ever have as much control over you as you're willing to give to me." He smiles again, this time, warm and comforting. "If you're really willing to do this, we will do this right. You'll have to trust me first, and I'll have to get to know you fully first, before anything else happens. Understood?" He asks.
And you nod.
"Do you know what you just agreed to?" He chuckles, and, shyly, you shake your head.
"See?" He grins, breaking skincontact with you. "You're not ready yet."
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His brows furrow when he sees you sitting on the counter, Taehyung talking to you. "What're you doing here?" He asks, and you pout, as Taehyung moves away, not wanting to get involved into anything this time. "Stop that face. We talked about this last week, why're you here now?" He asks, and you tilt your head innocently.
"Maybe I'm here for Yoongi?" You say, and his eyes grow darker for a second, before he composes himself.
"Good try, but he's still off work." He states, and you deflate a bit.
"I just.. wanted to see, I guess." You say, and he smiles a bit impishly.
"Oh? I mean, I have a scene in twenty minutes.." He asks, and internally, you cringe. No, you don't want to see him screw or even touch another woman in the ways you secretly want him to touch you instead. No, you're technically here to maybe talk him into show you at least a little bit. But it doesn't seem like he'll cave in anytime soon, so you sigh out.
"Okay, okay, I'll see you around, I guess." You say, hopping down from the counter before you take a step towards the exit.
"Ah well, I'll drive you home then." He states, and you grow confused as he leans against the counter. "Seeing as my scheduled appointment wants to leave, I have time off." He states, and you skin tingles. "Come on now, before I change my mind." He states, as he walks you outside again, leading you towards his car.
"I didn't mean to turn up so.. I don't know. Sorry." You said, and he gets into the drivers seat, shaking his head.
"I can understand you, trust me." He says, as he starts the engine and drives off. "If you're okay with it, I'd like to get something from my apartment, and then drive to yours." He says, and you tilt your head.
"Why not to the studio, or your place?" You ask, and he nods.
"While those are places I feel comfortable, they're unfamiliar to you. It's best if we start in a place that's comforting and gives you a sense of security." He states, and you nod.
Jungkook, in your eyes, never really seemed as mature as he's acting in those moments. It's as if he switches every time you two change topics; any time this particular one comes up, his mood changing into a serious one. Now, you're not stupid, you know the risks- and of course you had somewhat done your research online about the damages that could occur during all of this. And there's also the not too little chance it really isn't something for you after all- and in a way, that scares you. Because you want jungkook, but what if you don't want.. this?
Instead of voicing that out, you simply keep quiet as he gets out the car, and inside again after fetching what looks like an overnight bag. "You're staying over?" You ask, and he simply throws it on to the backseat.
"Maybe. We'll see." He says, and you don't question him as he drives. "Let's get something to eat. What're you craving?" He asks, as he keeps his attention on the road. He notices how you seem to think, already able to practically see the gears turning inside your head. "Don't think about what I could want. I asked what you want." He says, calmly, and so soft, that you simply let your words out.
"Tae usually get's me food.." You start, and Jungkook nods, as if understanding. You watch him smile a little.
"Let's get some junk food and eat it in the car." He simply states, and you nod, happy that he seemingly really did get what you were trying to say. For you, things like these were almost like rituals- like you and tae getting random icecream just to hurry home every time to not have it melt.
Maybe this would become a memory only for you and Jungkook.
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"You're nervous." Jungkook says, speaking out what's obvious. You don't know what he'll do, you're confused whats in his bag- you're nervous, just like he said. "Why is that?" He asks, casually sitting on your bed with you. He had earlier told you not to panic-clean it; he was not there to be impressed. He was simply a visitor for now, nothing more, nothing less. You shrugged. There were a lot of reasons you were nervous. "If you want this to work, I need to have proper communication with you. Guessing will get me nowhere." He says, but his voice is not upset. He's simply informing you.
"I.. don't know what you'll do?" You say, and He smiles, sitting more comfortably, as he shows you his open hands.
"I'm not gonna do anything for the moment." He tells you, and you shrug.
"But wasn't that the plan?" You ask him.
"What would you want me to do then?" He asks instead, not answering your question. He's testing you, he want's to know if you really are aware of everything. He's also not only asking you about what you want him to do to you- but with you, as well. He was unsure if you wanted to romantically involve yourself with him, or simply explore something new at his side.
He's afraid he'd be okay with either, just because its you.
"Are you going to tie me up?" You ask, and Jungkook grins, before he laughs. You're growing shy, unsure, and he instantly makes sure you know he's simply laughing about what you said, not about you. His hand holds yours- and it's weirdly reassuring.
"No, although I can imagine you looking very pretty in that position." He says. "No, come here." He says, lays down on the bed, and you stay where you are, with reasonable distance between you two. "I want you to come as close to me as you feel comfortable. Don't force it- take your time. I'm not expecting anything, please remember that." He tells you calmly, not looking at you to give you mental distance from him as well. His eyes are actually closed, his body relaxed.
You don't move for a moment. You want to test how long he can really play this patient role- but after around five or ten minutes, he's still not moving. He's not even saying anything, and you're unsure if he's asleep or not.
There's only one way to find out.
You carefully lay down a little away from him, on your side, simply looking at him. It's weird to see him like that; you've always imagined him to be a very dominant and demanding person, from what you've heard and seen of him. But Jungkook doesn't feel like any of the guys you've been with; he also doesn't feel like Taehyung, or Yoongi, or Hoseok.. Jungkook, weirdly enough, feels comfortable. He's relaxed, and laid back, and still has that slight glint of power over you.
You move closer, your curiosity getting the best of you as scenes and pictures of him holding you fill your head. Is he even a cuddler? You can't imagine him being all soft and sweet for gestures like that, but then again, you didn't really think you'd ever be in a situation like this either. Maybe you were judging a book by its cover.
He smells nice- that's one of the first things you notice once you get closer. One of his arms is stretched out to the side- his tattooes visible, but partially hidden by his sweater sleeve. You want to look at them, so you test the waters- by touching his arm, just a small poke with your finger. You can see the corners of his lips twitch; he's definitely awake. You move his arm a little, inside facing you as you get a detailed look at his artworks. They're detailed, they fit him, the dark Ink a stark contrast to his skin.
His sweater seems soft.
You slowly lay down again, your head resting on his biceps as you simply lay for a moment.
This is nice.
You feel more and more bold with every minute that passes, not even minding the way he sometimes moves around. You're growing at ease, so much so, that you simply throw all hesitation out of the window, and cuddle up to him. one of your hands is on his chest, while your head rests ontop of the inside of his shoulder.
This is really nice.
"Are you falling asleep?" He asks, voice not loud at all, as his arm moves, palm resting on your forearm as he holds you. You don't mind it- you feel relaxed enough to really actually do fall asleep- so you nod. "That's good." He tells you.
"But didn't you bring stuff to try?" you ask, and Jungkook nods.
"We got time. A small nap is always a good idea." He tells you, and you simply nod- making him smile.
He's glad.
Because by falling asleep on him like that, you don't even know how much you've complimented him at all. You're relaxed enough around him, comfortable enough to let him close to you in a vulnerable state such as sleep. It makes him wonder how far you'd let him go- would you let anyone get so close so quickly? A sudden rush of protectiveness curses through his body, fills him up, as he swears he can't let you go now. No, what if someone else gets you like this? What if someone takes advantage of your open mind like that? He doesn't even want to imagine.
Jungkook really has it bad.
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You slowly wake up to a bit of weight on your face. "jungkook what're you doing?" you giggle, and he chuckles as well as he takes the hand away from over your eyes. He looks well rested, with his eyes still not fully open.
"Nothing." He says. "Just teasing." He says, but of course, nothing he does is just random teasing. Everything he does is calculated- it's to test you, to study you, to make sure he gets to know you. "Are you hungry?" He asks instead.
"Not for food."
He has to let that process for a moment, until he laughs. He's really got it with you, he thinks, as he suddenly moves, eyes dark, while he's now ontop of you, his hands holding your wrists. Expecting you to look surprised, he finds none of that however. It intrigues him, the way you don't seem to be nervous or fearful at all. It makes him wonder what you'd really do to him if he was to advance in ways he wanted to. "Careful, sweetheart." He says, and your eyes sparkle with a silent challenge.
"Or what?"
His grip gets a bit tighter at that, eyes a bit darker. "Someone's eager." He says lowly. "Don't you think you're biting off more than you can chew right now?" He asks, before he clicks his tongue, slowly falling into his own headspace. He knows however not to let himself slip. "Give me a random word." He asks, demands, and you say whatever finds your mind in that moment.
"Bunny." You say.
He raises his eyebrow for a second, but doesn't question it. "I want you to say that, loud and clear, as soon as you feel uncomfortable." He lectures you seriously. "It doesn't matter what it is. Physically, or mentally, or if you simply don't want me to continue because. I need you to tell me that you will say it." His gaze is intense, and you nod. "I promise you; I'll never get mad, or upset, or angry, or disappointed with you. My ego isn't worth your safety." He humms out at the end, and your eyes soften.
He notices it instantly, and it affects him more than he'd like to admit.
"I promise I'll say it if I need to." You tell him, and he grows comfortable again.
"Can I touch you?" He asks, softly, and you nod, before verbally answering him with a yes. "Remember; I'll only ever have as much power and control over you as you will give me." He mumbles, head now dipped down to ghost his lips over the skin of your neck. "But once you give it to me-" He says, his knee situating itself in between your legs to spread them in a silent command. "-I won't give it back." He growls, before he bites down, releasing the skin after hearing your delicate mewl, kissing the spot as if to apologize.
He's not sorry.
"Let me ask you.." He says, feeling you rut against his leg that's pressed against your center. "what do you really want from me?" He asks, and you open your eyes, movements slowly coming to a halt as you notice the way he looks at you.
He almost looks uncertain.
"I.." You want him. You know that- you want all of his bad habits and weird quirks. You want to get to know him and everything that comes with it. Hell, he was the main reason you even got into the entire scene in the first place. "You." You say, deciding its best to practice honesty.
"Me?" He asks, genuinely a little confused.
You nod. "Yeah. You." You say. It's a little weird, the whole situation, but you don't mind it. Your hands slowly slip out of his grasp, before they instead intertwine their fingers with his. He feels weirdly caught off guard by the gesture- his past encounters and relationships never having included things like these. So much so, that Jungkook genuinely believed those things to be simple movie-gestures. Overdone, and not realistic. "Like uhm.. if you want to. If you just want to, you know, I.. guess I'd be okay with that too-" You say, looking away, as Jungkook answers.
"I want you too." He answers, eyes searching yours for any glimmer of dishonesty. But he doesn't find it- there is none. There's just you. "I really want you too." He murmurs out, getting closer, before he lets himself loose, his lips finding yours.
He's never been a fan of kissing, but he can very much already imagine kissing you for hours.
Its not just you letting go in that moment, its him too.
Because unbeknownst to you, he's not just opening you a door to his world of unspoken fantasies-
He's also opening his heart as well.
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Your first time together is slow and comfortable.
It happens just a day after you had both decided to pursue an actual relationship with one another. He's gentle, careful, but not hesitant. He's exploring.
Inside of his head, he notes down every noise and every twitch of muscle. You sigh as he eats you out, the small ponytail of his unable to hold onto all of his hair as his eyes are partially hidden behind the blonde strands. He's watching you, his fingers having already stretched you out, but then he sits up. You whine, with him having stolen your release for a second time. "Let's play a little, yeah?" He says with an amused yet calm tone. You're already unable to do much about your position; your wrists bound to your bed over your head, carefully tied knots comfortable against your skin, as long as you don't pull. "Legs open." He calls out as you try and close them, and you whine again; testing his patience as you still go ahead and disobey his command. He watches, moves forward, before he pulls them apart again. "You want to cum, no?" He asks, and you nod, frustratedly so. "I wonder what made you think you've earned that reward from me." He tells you, eyes scanning your form as you pull on your restraints a little. He's not fully into his own headspace yet- he's still very much on high alert to notice any signs of discomfort coming from you.
He has to learn just as much as you do.
"You're lucky you're so sweet." He says, before he crawls closer again, his hand on your center, as he enters you with two fingers. Its not enough, but then his thumb draws circles on your clit- and you're approaching, quickly. "Hm? Won't you cum?" And then you say it.
"Can I?"
It's so desperate, so needy, so submissive, that it sends a chill down his spine. He moves closer, kisses your neck, as he can't help but let the rush of it get to him. He is, after all, just as desperate for release. No matter if its his, or yours.
"Such a good girl, of course you can." He tells you. "What a sweet one, such good manners.." He teases playfully, and you tug at your restraints as you come undone under his hands. He unties your wrists and you're holding onto him as soon as you're free, and he lets you hold onto him in your post orgasmic bliss.
Its after a moment that you realize it.
"Wait-" You say, sitting up to look at him. "You- I mean, you didn't get to-" You start, but Jungkook waves it off.
"Its fine, really." He tells you, and you know he's serious. "I'll just wait until it goes down, or take care of it in your bathroom if thats okay with you." He says, patting the side next to him to lay down on. "Come here." He asks, and you comply, before you speak again.
"You.." You start, not looking at him. "Could just take care of it here." You say. "Or I could.." you start, and he looks at you.
"Do you want that, or do you only feel like you have to?" He asks, and you shrug. You take some time, before you answer.
You've seen most of Jungkook until now. From his strong arms, his back, his inked skin, to his thighs and legs. You have seen all- but that. And you've never really considered giving anything back in that way to anyone because of one single embarrassing moment- but with Jungkook, for some reason, you wanted to try.
"I want to." You say, and he nods. "But I don't know how.." You say, and he smiles reassuringly.
"I'll guide you." He tells you, before he scans your face. He's never really felt that desired- at least not in the way he does in that moment with you. "You can take it out for starters." He says, and you nod, before you hesitate a little.
Jungkook is nice, when it comes to that. He's patient, always lets you do the pacing for now, until you trust him enough. This is only the start, after all. You stay cuddled up to his side, but your hand ventures towards his sweats, where you can see his prominent erection still waiting. Slowly, you push the fabric down, both his sweats and boxers underneath- his hips lifting a bit to make it easier for you, until he's freed from his clothes.
You've never really thought much about looks when it came to that department, but Jungkook was, in each and every way, highly attractive. Now you knew, that there was literally nothing about him you didn't desire.
Your first touches are a little hesitant, testing the waters, and Jungkook tries not to react too much to it to give you time. Its when you start to move your hand however, that he closes his eyes, head now completely resting on the pillows beneath as he just decides to enjoy what you might give him. His hips twitch upwards a little after you'd run your thumb over the head, precum glistening while your hand uses it as lubricant to move more smoothly.
He sighs out.
And you grow bold at that, moving to sit up and escape out of his embrace, before you dip down to feed your curiosity. As your tongue touches his skin, his muscles contract, the action not expected since he didn't look what you were doing. You've been told once before that you're not.. the best at this- but Jungkook made you want to try. If you would've looked, you would've spotted the intense stare that Jungkook had been sending your way; mesmerized by the way you tucked your hair behind your ear oh so sweetly, before you let a drop of saliva escape from between your lips, taking him in soon after it had dropped onto his awaiting length.
You really were something else.
He'd gotten head time and time before, and it was never something he didn't like- but he'd also rarely ever cared that much emotionally about the person giving it to him. It's weird, how an emotional connection can make you so much more sensitive to things- such as in that moment, as your tongue moved over his skin while inside your warm mouth, lips heavenly on his cock.
He couldn't imagine what it would be like to be inside you.
There's nothing he could teach you, nothing he could tell you to do, as you moved, sucked and licked. He was breathing heavily already, his hand finding yours as you hold onto it. He sits up, can't help it, has to somehow touch you while you're not letting go of your task. His palm escapes your hand, rests on your head instead, runs through your hair before it grips a little. You moan, vibrations making him throw his head back as he groans out, feeling his end coming closer. "If you don't want to swallow, let go." He grits out, but you suck harder instead, and its when your hand finds his balls that he lets himself fall back onto the mattress beneath, shooting his load into your mouth as you swallow it down.
He's on cloud nine.
You're thoughtful enough to pull his underwear and pants back up, laying on your stomach next to him, waiting, watching, with impish eyes. He looks so radiant, so relaxed, so at ease. It fills you with a weird sense of pride; since in a way, its your doing. "Why did you tell me you don't know how to do that." He comments, rather than asks, slowly calming his breathing back down. His eyes open, hand pushing some hair out of your face. "Thank you. That was amazing." He says, and you shrug.
"Thanks for the compliment." You say, looking at him.
"I have a request." He says, and you nod. "Not like that." He teases, making you blush. "No, but seriously." Jungkook knows that you've been with other people before. It scares him to know that some of your experiences might not have been good- he knows some absolute horror stories Taehyung had told him. "I want you to take all that you've experienced with your former partners.. all those moments, emotions, bad memories, all of it." He tells you, hand now resting on your cheek- a gesture in which you lean into. "And throw them away. Forget them." He tells you.
"This is a new start, for both of us."
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"How many clients have you been with?" You ask, casually sitting on the kitchen counter as Jungkook washes the dishes. Its your first night in his apartment, and you're more comfortable than you thought you'd be.
"None." He tells you, and you're ready to snort out a laugh, but he doesn't look at all like he's joking. Seeing your confusion, he continues while scrubbing a plate. "None of us actually have sex with our clients. Some only come to talk, really- others come to let go." He explains, and you nod. "I've never touched, nor been with someone intimately during a scene." He tells you.
"So you had scenes with your partners then?" You ask, and he shrugs.
"In the beginning, yeah." He admits, shrugging. "But I eventually gave up on it. It's not something a lot of people find very appealing. It all looks great in theory, but when practiced, most find its not for them." Draining the sink, he dries his hands on the dish towel, before putting it in its proper place.
"Could you.. imagine a relationship without it?" You ask, and he sighs, shaking his head.
"Not really." He looks at you after a moment. "Its who I am, and its how I love. I can't change that." He tells you, and you nod. Its understandable really, and you like that he has clear lines he likes to follow. It's weirdly comforting to know that he has his life so under control- its all you've ever wanted really.
It's something Jungkook might be able to give you.
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It was weird, the feeling of the rope against your skin. He’d been right about it earlier; it wasn’t rough or itchy at all. But maybe that was just because it was him doing it. Maybe he was simply fogging up your senses.
It would make sense.
“Okay?” He humms out, voice gentle and calm while he stops his hands for a moment, palm on your shoulder where it warms up your skin. You’re unsure what okay really means- okay like, he’s finished? Or is he asking if you’re okay? Or is he asking for permission? “Speak to me- don’t just think.” He says, eyes watching you in such a manner that made your slightly trembling body calm down.
“I’m not sure what- what you mean by, okay.” You say, and he smiles, eyes roaming over your body for a moment, but surprisingly not in a way that would make you feel exposed. You’re almost naked, after all- only your most private parts hidden from his sight. You can see the very evident tent in his pants; but he doesn’t seem like he’s frustrated or fazed about it.
“Good Job telling me.” He says first and foremost, and you start to feel warm inside. “I was asking if you were okay. Do you remember your colors?” He asks, and you nod, before verbally answering him with a ‘yes’. He nods again, a hand running over your head, fingers running through your hair affectionately. “Good. I’ll finish the last knots now- remember you can stop at any time. Don’t hesitate.” He says, and you nod.
He grabs the rope again; the tiny fact that he’d chosen one in your favorite color making you feel.. well, you didn’t know. You could feel your nose sting, before it shot into your eyes, making them water; something that Jungkook immediately noticed. “Color?” He asks, and you shake your head.
“Green, Green, I’m okay-“ you say, but you can’t stop the tears. He’s quick to sit down in front of you after tying the last knot- and it’s the first time you quietly look at them. They’re so delicate, so well done, but there’s no time to dwell on it as he lifts you chin gently.
“Talk to me.” He says, hands on your shoulders to give you some sense of stability. You’re safe, you don’t feel bad, but just..
“I don’t know. There’s so much-“ you begin, and he softly smiles, as if you’re not currently completely bound with no chance of proper movement. You take a deep breath, holding it before you release again, silently following the advices he’d given you prior. “Why do I feel so.. comfortable? I feel safe even though I’m in such a dangerous situation- I’m.. this is weird isn’t it, I should be.. I don’t know. Why’re you not doing anything? Wasn’t this supposed to be like, a sex session or something I don’t get it-“ you babble, and he lets you, before he speaks.
“You still don’t quite get it, do you?” He asks, and your glistening eyes stare up at him. “I don’t need something as simple as sex to feel satisfied.” He explains, and you nod, even though you don't quite understand. "I feel euphoric right now, even though you probably won't quite believe me." He says, his smile evident as his fingers trace the knots on your skin. It's there that you see it; the glimmer in his eyes, something you've never seen before with someone else. "The fact that you let me do this, it's all I need." He humms out. He looks at you, a silent question, and you take a deep breath.
You don't quite know what you're doing. Its weird- but seeing him like that makes you feel weightless. It happens slowly, you don't quite grasp what it is, but the feeling is nice. It's like letting go- like standing on the highest platform of the universe and just jumping down. And when you open your eyes, all you see is him.
He can't take his eyes off of you.
He's seen it often enough to spot it, knows what it looks like, but it still holds such a deep meaning to him to see you fall into your subspace for the very first time. You're so beautiful like that, so ethereal and enchanting as you lean forward to get closer to him. He's careful you dont accidentally hurt yourself with the big scissors on the bed close by- emergency equipment to release you asap if needed.
He knows escape is the furthest thing on your mind right now.
Able to do anything he'd want with you, he's not like that however. He's responsible enough to let you float for a moment, before he speaks to you again. "Baby?" He asks, and you nod, nuzzling his shoulder as he holds you close. "You're doing so good. Can you do something for me baby?" He questions again, and you nod, not parting from him however before he talks again. "Can you sit straight for a moment? Just like that, good girl." He praises as you instantly follow his command. "I got you, okay? I got you, you're safe." He repeats, as he slowly unties your body. It's careful reassuring and slow movements that make it possible to untie you- too quickly could make you drop; a state of sudden shift in mental state, that could send you straight into distress. Jungkook doesn't ever want to be the cause of that for you.
You're underneath him, and he's careful, as he undresses after placing the scissors onto the bedside table where it cant lead to any accidents. He also reaches inside the table, pulling out a condom from a box safely stored, before he gets himself ready.
Not even for a second is his attention not on you however.
"Hands up baby." He commands, and you do as he wants, already squirming as he advances towards you, fingers stretching you out as you grow huffy at the prospect of being edged again. He's quick to catch on though. "Hm, I'm not gonna be mean baby." He tells your fuzzy mind. "But I gotta get you ready, no?" Fingers steadily helping you relax, he waits until he deems you ready.
You struggle to keep your hands up as he enters you, but your mind is adamant on keeping his command. He groans out, kisses your neck, as he slowly begins to move lazily. It's enough for pleasure- but not enough to make you cum. "Good fucking girl. Look at you. My baby." He chants, and something inside you stirs at the last words.
His Baby.
You're his.
He wants you.
It makes you whine as he chuckles, nipping at your skin. "You can touch me baby, good job." He says, and your hands are instantly around his neck. You're mumbling something, but its not words. It's not coming out the way you think it does, and Jungkook doesn't mind, doesn't care. Its another one of those things fueling him up, urging him on.
You're his perfect puzzle piece.
He lets go.
"Turn around princess." He says breathless, and you follow his instructions eagerly. His hand rests on the back of your neck for a moment, leaves its place for a second to move your hair away from your face, before he gently pushes down. He's inside in a heartbeat, this time thrusting with more strength.
Something overcomes him that hasn't happened before.
Usually, this position is what he loves most- and yet, it's not what he wants. He wants you, he wants you close, he cant touch you enough. His arms snake around your torso, just underneath the bottom of your breasts, as he pulls you towards him. Your back arches so prettily, and he gasps out, breathing heavy as he continues his attack on your neck. "You're mine." He growls out, can't keep it inside anymore, his grip on you tightening. "Mine." His thrusts stutter, his hand reaches for your center, desperate fingers helping you find your release. It coats your thighs, stains the bed, and he pushes himself as deep as he can once he finishes himself.
He's breathing heavily, he's out of his mind, running on autopilot as his hands still hold you. He pulls out after a moment, a whine from you getting reassured by his own voice, before he leaves the bed, getting a warm damp washcloth ready for you. He's careful, gentle, seems to caress your skin more than clean it, places kisses every now and then and sends praises your way.
"How do you feel?" He asks, voice low and caring as he continues his aftercare.
"Like you love me a lot." You sleepily say, eyes still foggy, and he smiles.
"Good." He tells you, reaching out to kiss your lips, still high on his own afterglow. "That's how you're always supposed to feel like."
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"I've quit." He tells you one night on the couch, as you sit close to him. You'd asked him about his sidejob at Yoongi's- and this was his answer. Instantly, you sit up straight, fearing that he might've felt obligated because of you. "Before you start, yes, it was because of you." He says, and you already have the whine in your throat- but it doesn't make it out, as his fingers lazily trace your collarbone peaking out from his shirt you're wearing. "But it was also my decision. I just didn't enjoy it anymore- and you're more I could ever want really." He says, shrugging as you stare at him.
It was still new to you.
Although you knew that he was probably more than just a wild loverboy collecting partners and gaming all day, you never would've thought of him like this. He's a kid at heart still, teasing and playfighting every now and then- but he's mostly a strong shoulder to lean on for you. He really is the security and safety you'd always searched for. "What're you thinking about?" He asks, pulling you closer as he continues watching the TV show.
"You." You say, and he chuckles.
"Cute." He answers. He looks at you for a moment, TV long forgotten, before you crawl over his lap, shirt rising enough to give him free view of your thighs and panties. You've skipped the pants tonight- a habit of yours he enjoys a lot. His palms instantly find the soft skin, running along the outside of your thighs before they find your behind, squeezing, before he slaps it playfully. He grins as you squeal, admiring the way the very tips of your ears turn red. "You're really precious, you know that?" He tells you, and you shrug. "You are." He confirms, and you smile shyly.
"May I kiss you?" You ask, and he smiles warmly.
"We're not in a scene baby, do as you wish." He tells you, and you nod, leaning forward to capture his lips with yours. Its a feeling you can't quite get enough of, and it seems like he enjoys it equally as much. His inked hands find their way underneath your shirt, running over your back and spine as you shudder. He doesn't find what he seeks, your underwear long gone and left in the bedroom, and he loves it, instantly moves to your chest where he finds the soft flesh, his thumb running over one of your nipples teasingly. You're arching your back already, moving around as if you can't sit still. "My baby." He mumbles out, "If you can be so kind and get me a condom, you can ride me if you want to." He tells you, and you nod.
By now you easily know your way around his apartment.
So its no wonder you quickly return from your now shared bedroom, condom in hand as you approach him again, settling onto his lap. You're not shy with him nor his body anymore, eagerly taking the condom out of the package for him to roll it down onto his length. "You good?" He asks, and you nod, pulling your panties aside as you slowly sink down on him.
He lets his head rest back on the couch, and you lean into him, for a change returning the favor of kissing his neck. He's grinning, throughoutly enjoying things, and you love watching him. It's a visual reminder to yourself that this is your doing. You're making him feel that way, and no one else. It makes you confident, and it makes you feel cherished in ways you haven't felt before.
Once you start to move, Jungkooks hands help you along. Its slow and lazy, not at all hurried. There's no real goal; you probably wouldn't even mind not cumming at all. This was just being close- a way of feeling connected in the most intimate of ways. Connected like only lovers could be.
You love him.
And it slips out as a tiny 'I love you' in between your sighs and gasps, and he hears it so clearly, he can't help himself but speed up the pace.
"I love you too." He chants out, kissing the side of your head as you rest against his chest, head on his shoulder. "I love you so much." He says, almost inaudible, his arms holding you as close as he can.
Jeon Jungkook doesn't need sex to feel satisfied.
But he will most certainly need you for now and forever.
And he's totally fine with that.
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(c)Bonny-Kookoo. You know the drill. I know where you live. I don't. But still. Be scared. Boo.
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