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bcksbarnes · 3 months ago

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traces of a lonely world

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

summary: bucky's job takes him away from you more that he cares to admit. most of the times you can understand, but there are some nights it tears you apart.

word count: 3.2K

read the: next chapter

cw: 🔞 some suggestive content (mdni), general angst and verbal argument

a/n: needed to get out some angst in my life and focused it right here!! hope you all enjoy

There’s no training manual on dating an ex-assassin turned hero.

No one told you all the things you would sacrifice with being with someone so important to the world. No one warned you that as hard as it was for him to be away from you, it was harder for you to make sure he didn’t become a headline on the news. Another hero gone.

Even with that in mind there was something that was even harder for you to swallow.

The missed moments.

You understood that his job took him away from you. It meant he would miss a birthday or an anniversary, but it never made it any easier. Opening gifts alone, or blowing out the candles on the cake to a crowd of one because someone tried to wreck chaos on the world again.

Unfortunately, Bucky’s job was never ending.

Dinner reservations were often spent asking the waitress for 5 more minutes, then 15, then eating by yourself until you received an I’m so sorry kiss on the forehead later that night when he finally snuck into the bedroom.

You always wanted to be mad at Bucky in those moments, to tell him how unfair it was that you had to share him with the world. But, you would hear him groan as he took his shirt off, or you’d see the blood against his cheek and it made you feel so selfish. He was risking it all for a safer world. How could you complain?

You always tried to force yourself to sleep before he came home, not wanting him to think that you waited around for him, that you were counting down the seconds. Even when your eyes were closed, you were awake. You were always awake.

You would be until you heard his boots against the floorboards. The signal he was home.

And he was safe.

Those were the toughest few moments in your relationship, pulled by the want to forgive him and the need to be angry.

How could you be mad at someone who is just trying his best?

Bucky wasn’t oblivious to your feelings either, and his own guilt gnawed away at him more nights than not. He had a knack for swallowing it though, if it festered too long in his chest then he felt worse. Maybe if he ignored it then it’d get better.

He’d try harder.

He couldn’t face it.

Bucky would always attempt to make it up to you. Getting up early to make your favorite breakfast – chocolate chip pancakes with a dash of cinnamon in the batter – or cuddling a bit closer at night to remind you he was right there.

Even when he couldn’t be.

Sometimes, if you were both awake enough when he got home, he’d climb into bed on top of you. The mattress would sink under his weight and neither of you needed to speak to communicate what was needed.

His strong hands would run down the front of your shirt, lifting it up as he dipped under the covers, peppering his soft lips against your stomach.

You shivered every time.

His body would be on the colder side, sometimes even in the heat of July, a stark contrast of your own under the warm blankets.

“You smell nice,” he’d whisper, nuzzling his nose into your abdomen. His senses were flooded with the smell of you - a mix of vanilla and honey. “I must be a crazy man for leaving you.”

It was his way of acknowledging what he couldn’t admit.

He’d kiss his way down until he’s hovering right over the waistband of your shorts, your hand immediately tangling in his messy dark locks. The way he’d whisper your name like a man praying for forgiveness while his calloused hands ran down your sides made your heart flutter.

He’d slide your shorts down, his eyes never leaving you as he …

Well, those were apologies for a different time.

Neither of you brought up these feelings, and while you had no doubt he was sorry it was impossible to know if those words were just a placeholder.

You tried not to reflect back on the events he missed, because each time you did, you could see the outline of where he should be.

The weight of the emptiness sat on your chest, ready to suffocate you.

He’ll be there, you thought to yourself as you walked quickly, arms crossed over your chest and head down towards the restaurant you were going to meet Bucky at.

He had picked it out weeks ago when he heard about your job promotion. It had taken you three years of work under a boss who had become increasingly harder to please each and every year. There were many late nights spent on budget sheets and early mornings fueled by multiple cups of coffee that got you to this moment.

Now it was time to celebrate.

Bucky was so proud when he heard the news. You called him the second you left your bosses office, the smile on your face spread so wide it made your cheeks hurt. You sat at your desk while you clutched your phone tightly. The weight of what you had accomplished lifting off your shoulders.

“I’m so proud of you,” his voice was soft through the speaker. A man in the middle of his own work trying his best to still cheer you on. “I knew you’d get it.”

Of course he did, because as hard of a worker as he was - you did twice as much. All while carrying both of your personal lives on your back.

Bucky would say you were the true hero.

“Thank you,” you said to the host once you were seated at the table.

The lights in the restaurant were low, a tea candle sitting in the middle of the small table. An intimate setting for the two of you to finally relax and celebrate. A night where laughs could turn into soft whispers, and whispers into breathless gasps.

It was a night for you, but selflessly it was for the both of you.

Your leg shook under the table as you browsed the menu, the seat across the table noticeable empty. You hated this feeling of uneasiness that came with waiting for him because at the end of the day it wasn’t about trust - you trusted Bucky more than anyone in this world.

No, this was about the line in the sand. Loving him and knowing he needed to be there to save the world.

Guilt and awareness. Two things that needed to exist at the same time, but were so hard to balance. It was a double-edged sword and you were losing either way.

It was fine the first time the waitress came over to ask if you were waiting on someone.

Maybe a little more hurtful when twenty minutes had passed and you checked your phone for any text or call, but found nothing.

Definitely upsetting when you finally had to order your meal alone.

And downright heartbreaking when you finished eating and the wait staff brought out a pity free dessert.

Bucky didn’t come.

And worst of all? He didn’t even care to let you know.

Anger and sadness draped over you like a thin veil as you made your way back to the apartment. It festered deep in your gut, clamoring its way out.

How could he not come? How could he not tell you?

The tears didn’t start when you got home.

Or when you got changed out of your clothes into something more comfortable.

Not even when you realized how late it was.

There were no tears to cry, no matter how much your throat constricted and the feeling in your chest rose. They weren’t here. Not yet.

You were torn between going to bed for the night and staying up to wait for him. Knowing that you wouldn’t be able to rest anyway is what persuaded you to stay awake, though it was not done favorably.

You kept checking your phone as you sat on the couch, waiting to hear from somebody - anybody . Despite it all, there was still a deep rooted worry that flowed through you that he was hurt, or … you didn’t want to think about that.

Not right now.

Not yet.

You heard the jangling of keys outside the door. A sound that sent a shock right through your system and into your stomach. First relief, then anger. The sudden wave of it hitting you like you were tossed into the ocean and forced to swim ashore.

Bucky entered the apartment in one swift motion, his boots were heavy with exhaustion as he dragged them across the floor taking a step inside. His head was bowed, the long dark locks covering his face as he leaned down to unlace his shoes.

You could see from where you’re sitting the sweat beads that ran down his arm. The scuff marks against his metal one. Some minor bruising and cuts - but overall, he’s still in one piece.

When he finally kicks off his shoes and stands, he jolts suddenly at seeing you on the couch. He wasn’t expecting you to still be awake; let alone waiting for him.

“Hey,” Bucky says, his eyebrow raised as he runs a hand through his hair. “What are you still doing up?”

The question hits you like an arrow straight to the chest. His casual tone causes you to blink a few times as you stand from the couch, your arms crossing over your chest. The sign of someone ready to rumble.

“I’ve been waiting for you”.

Your tone is a bit sharper than you wanted it to be, but it’s hard to stop yourself.

Bucky’s taken aback by your inflection as he steps further into the apartment until he’s standing on the other side of the living room. He was only a few feet in front of you but he might as well have been another world away.

“You never wait for me to get home when it’s this late,” he says, carefully tiptoeing his way into the conversation. His eyes briefly shifting over to the clock that hung on the wall to confirm what time it was. “Is everything okay?”

“Does your phone not work all of a sudden?” you ask, another quick jab. “You were supposed to be at dinner 4 hours ago, Bucky.”

There’s a look of confusion on his face. One that clearly showed that he was unsure of what you were referring to.

“Dinner? What dinner?”

“The dinner we were supposed to have tonight,” you explain, trying to throw him a life line.

Bucky purses his lips as he tries to remember, his body was aching and his head was pounding from the fight he just endured. Whatever plans the two of you might have had were long gone from his memory at that moment. So, he waits for you to continue.

“For my promotion, Bucky. The one you made reservations for weeks ago,” you try to keep yourself level headed, but the break in your voice slips its way out.

Bucky’s face drops when the words hit his ears, his hand coming up to rub his forehead in a way that screams oh fuck .

You blink back the tears that start to form because there is still no way you are crying right now. No, he didn’t deserve those tears yet. He breathes out your name as he takes a step closer but you hold out your hand and take a step back from him.

It was instinctive, your body was protecting you.

“I forgot that was tonight,” he says, his words rushed as he tries to explain. “Sam called this morning about a threat we needed to investigate. I didn’t even - … fuck.”

“Bucky, you missed my birthday. You missed our anniversary. Now this .”

“Shit,” he mumbles to himself as his metal fist knocks softly on the wall of the entryway out of frustration. “I fucked up. I’m sorry, I didn’t even - .”

“You say that every time! You say it like it’s going to erase that you weren’t there,” you snap. Anger was filling up in your veins, close to overflowing.

“I don’t think it’s going to erase anything. Don’t put words in my mouth.”

His own guilt is gnawing at him, the weight of what he had done was simmering under the surface. He hated himself enough as it was, hurting you was just another reason to add to the never ending list.

“I’m not putting words in your mouth. I’m saying that there’s only so many times I can hear that same apology without losing my damn mind!”

“I’m trying my best, okay?” he says, voice dripping with agitation. Neither of you were shouting, no good would come out of raised voices. “I can’t be everywhere at once.”

“Except you’re never here!”

“Hey, that’s not fair,” Bucky snaps. “Sam needed me.”

“ I needed you, Bucky!”

Bucky thinks getting shot in the chest would have hurt less than hearing you say that.

It felt like an explosion had gone off, the air sucked right of the room. You and Bucky rarely fought, this was uncharted territory, and it seemed the landscape was filled with bombs ready to explode.

Bucky stares at you for a moment, his hands resting on his hips as he blinks slowly. What was he supposed to say? You weren’t wrong. He was in the middle of a rope being pulled in all directions.

“You think I don’t know that?” he says. Despite his voice raising, he still wasn’t shouting. “You think every morning when I roll out of bed I don’t think about how much it hurts to leave? How it kills me to come home at night knowing that my whole world is in bed and that I can’t be there?”

“No, I don’t think that,” you retort. “But, every time Sam or Steve or someone calls it’s like your world is narrowed down and that’s all you see. Tunnel vision.”

“Because it’s my job! I can’t think about it. I have to just go. People get hurt if I don’t.”

The room suddenly felt smaller, like the off white walls were going to close in on themselves. There had been so many happy moments right where you both were standing, memories that you would spend your lonely nights remembering - but right now they were just a crushing reminder of all that you were losing each time he left.

“What about us, huh?” You ask, voice quivering once more. “What about me? No call, no text, not even a damn note on the kitchen table before you leave. Nothing! I have to sit around and wait for you over and over again.”

Bucky’s knees felt like they were buckling under the weight of the pressure. Of course he wanted to be there for you, but he had duties - obligations.

“I never said this was going to be easy,” he fought back. “You knew what you were getting into.”

“So, this is my fault? I should just move on because it’s what I ‘signed up for’?”

“ Yes … I mean - …” Bucky throws his head back and lets out a groan of frustration. “No! God dammit. I don’t want to fight about this.”

“You never want to talk about it! I can’t keep brushing this under the rug! I’m sick and tired of sleeping alone at night, of my friends asking me where you are and I don’t have a good enough answer. Or wondering if you’ll care enough to try to be there.”

“That’s not fair,” he responds right as you finish speaking, taking a step closer again. This time you don’t move back. “I care about you. I love you.”

The tears finally fall as you stand your ground, your hands that are now by your side and shaking. Love was such a funny word to use at this moment. Not because there was humor behind it, but because love to you and Bucky seemed to mean much different things.

He wanted to reach out to you, he wanted to sweep you in his arms and kiss the top of your head and tell you all the ways he loved you. That he’d hang the moon and the stars if it meant seeing you happy. But he couldn’t, he was frozen in place.

“Bucky …” you shake your head as your voice cuts off.

You take a moment to collect yourself, wiping your tears and staring up at the ceiling as your chest tightens. This seemed to be falling apart. Your life, the relationship, all of it.

Bucky’s eyes never leave your face as he watches you try and calm yourself down. He sees the way your body trembles as you’re still trying to hold back, the way your chest rapidly is rising and falling as you try to catch your breath.

He’s had enough.

There’s not a thought in his mind as he crosses the room until he reaches you, pulling you firmly against his chest, his strong arms wrapping around you.

You can’t bring yourself to pull away from him, your face buried as the hot tears stream down your cheeks, the sobs you’ve tried to control breaking free. More importantly, you can’t bring yourself to wrap your own arms around him, even as his hand glides soothingly side to side against your back.

It felt like your world was crashing around you. There was no way to stop it.

His nose presses into the top of your head. Your scent filling his nostrils as the only way he could ground himself. It hits him all at once that he had been turning into the man he never wished to be. The one with hollow apologies and excuses. The one who let the person he loved most in this world down with no better reason other than I had to .

Picking your head up from his chest, you pull back enough so that the two of you are face to face again. Bucky moves to cup your cheek but your hand grabs his wrist before he can, his heart stuck in his throat as you stop him

“I can’t keep doing this, I can’t keep … waiting around,” you finally manage to say, your eyes meeting his gaze.

Bucky knows there’s no use in trying to persuade you differently - not because he doesn’t want to fight for you, but because his words mean nothing right now. He made promises he couldn’t keep. Told you he’d show up and he wouldn’t. How was saying this time will be different, it’ll be better going to mean anything to you now?

He wasn’t an idiot. A jerk, maybe, but not an idiot.

His arms drop from your back down to his side, standing a bit straighter and lifting his head a little higher. Bucky was doing all that he could to not completely collapse in this moment. He ignored the ringing in his ears. The way the room shifted. How absolutely ethereal you looked even with puffy and red eyes.

You open your mouth to speak again and Bucky holds his hand up, shaking his head softly.

You didn’t need to say the words for him to know this was the end.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #bucky barnes angst #james barnes angst #mine #one shot #100 #200 #500

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riddlesrizzler · 26 days ago

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Daddy’s Day

summary: I love you the mostest. You make soup when I’m sick and do the best voices. You are my hero. characters: teen dad! mattheo. toddler daughter. uncle theo. uncle enzo warnings: none! just fluff word count: 899

It started with a whisper.

A secret, crayon-stained idea whispered into Uncle Theo’s ear while Mattheo was in the other room, muttering about lost socks and brushing tangled hair.

“I wanna make Daddy a surprise,” she said seriously, tugging on Theo’s sleeve. “For the Daddy Day.”

Theo blinked, crouching to her level. “You mean Father’s Day?”

She nodded. “The Daddy Day. With cake. And sparkles. And glue.”

Theo, ever the agent of chaos, grinned. “I’m in.”

By Saturday morning, the plan was in full motion.

The moment Mattheo disappeared upstairs to shower, she launched into action-pajamas askew, wild curls bouncing, dragging her glitter-covered makeup case behind her like a suitcase of secrets. She stood on her tiptoes to open the front door when Theo arrived, his arms full of cake mix, mismatched baking supplies, and chaos in his grin.

“We’re making a sparkle cake,” Theo muttered as he stepped inside. “With blue icing, because apparently it needs to match his favorite color.”

Enzo showed up minutes later, sipping coffee and still half-asleep, only to be ambushed with hugs and a sticker on his forehead that read Best Grandma.

“I didn’t argue,” he said with a shrug, setting down a bag of sprinkles. “She seemed pretty sure.”

“She’s running the whole show,” Theo added, tying on a novelty apron that said Kiss the Cook, or Else.

And she was.

She stood in the middle of the kitchen, hands on her hips, directing them like a general preparing for battle. She assigned roles-Theo was in charge of the oven, Enzo would help decorate the card, and she, of course, would handle the mixing.

With a whisk twice the size of her arm, she stirred the batter with fierce concentration, occasionally licking the spoon and smearing flour onto Theo’s apron like war paint.

“No shells in Daddy’s cake!” she scolded when Theo cracked an egg too fast and sent bits flying into the bowl. “Only sparkles.”

“Yes, Chef,” he replied solemnly.

The kitchen descended into beautiful chaos. Glitter floated through the air like dust. A trail of frosting led from the fridge to the table. The batter made it into the pan-but also onto the floor, the counter, and the back of Enzo’s hoodie.

Meanwhile, the card came to life under her sticky hands. She drew a picture of her and Mattheo holding hands beneath a wobbly rainbow, stick-figure versions of them with huge smiles and stars all around. Above it, in bright purple marker (and with Enzo’s help on the spelling), she wrote:

“Happy Daddy Day. I love you the mostest. You make soup when I’m sick and do the best voices. You are my hero.”

She sealed it with a dinosaur sticker and a kiss on the corner.

Mattheo padded downstairs just as Theo pulled the cake from the oven. His curls were damp, sticking to his forehead, and he was toweling off the back of his neck when he paused in the doorway.

The scene before him looked like the kitchen had exploded-and it kind of had.

Flour-coated counters. Glitter in the air. A spatula stuck to the fridge. And in the middle of it all was his daughter, cheeks flushed pink, apron slipping off one shoulder, card clutched proudly in both hands.

“Surpriiiiiise!” she squealed.

Mattheo blinked. “What... is all this?”

She ran to him full force, throwing her arms around his legs. “It’s Daddy Day! We made you cake and a card and Uncle Theo only burned one thing!”

Theo held up two fingers behind her back.

Mattheo crouched, carefully accepting the card she handed him. He stared at the crayon drawing. The sparkles. The way the "Y" in "Daddy" was drawn like a heart. The lump in his throat grew thick and unmovable.

She looked up at him, eyes shining. “You’re my best friend.”

He pulled her into his arms, card pressed against her back. “You’re mine, too.”

“Even when I spill?” she whispered.

“Especially then.”

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channiesbakery · 5 months ago

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birthday cake —

prompt / request — trying to make them a birthday cake from scratch + decorating the house while they're still asleep

pairing — reader + boyfriend!dino

word count — 1001

genre — fluff + smut [oral (f receiving), p in v]

author’s note — this was so rushed 😭 but i just wanted to get something posted before the day ends for dino day!!

“go back to sleep,” you tell your boyfriend when you feel him tighten his grip around you as you’re trying to get up. “how can i when you’re trying to leave,” chan mumbles.

“I’m going to the bathroom to pee,” you say. “you better come back,” he mumbles, reluctantly letting you get up.

luckily, when you came out of the bathroom, he was fast asleep again.

you quickly– and quietly– head downstairs to the living room, trying to get all the decorations set up.

it wasn’t anything too crazy, just a few balloons, some streamers hanging on the ceiling and a happy birthday banner.

you had asked chan what he wanted to do for his birthday this year and of course, he said he just wanted to spend a day with you.

“but it’s your birthday. we need to do something fun– something that isn’t what we usually do,” you had argued with him. “spending time with my favorite girl is fun,” he argued back.

you would’ve preferred to do something a bit more extravagant to celebrate your boyfriend’s 26th birthday but it was his day so of course, you’d give him his relaxed day with you.

but you still wanted to do something to at least make the atmosphere feel like his birthday. hence the living room filled with decorations.

you felt accomplished when you’d finished decorating and didn’t hear chan waking up.

your next task is to bake a cake for him from scratch. again, you try to be as quiet as possible, wanting to surprise chan.

you’re only about halfway through mixing the batter when you feel arms wrapping around your waist, startling you.

“you promised you’d come back to bed,” he whines softly, burying his face against your neck. “and you’re supposed to be asleep,” you say.

“it’s your birthday, you should be sleeping in,” you add, turning around to face him as he keeps you cornered against the counter.

“exactly. it’s my birthday and i wanted to wake up to cuddling my girlfriend. not cuddling your giant pi cheolin otter,” he gives you a look. “hey! he’s a good cuddle buddy,” you protest.

“I’d prefer cuddling you. but you’re down here, cooking at the crack of dawn,” chan says. “I’m baking. a cake for you, by the way,” you say.

“we’ll buy one later. hell, I’ll buy 26 cakes later. just come back to bed. it’s not even 8am,” he groans as you just turn back around, grabbing your whisk to continue mixing while your boyfriend stayed clinging to you.

“go back to bed channie,” you tell him. “no,” he says stubbornly, nuzzling against you. “so clingy,” you tease, pouring the batter out into the pan.

“it’s my birthday. I’m allowed to be clingy,” he hums, watching your movements. “fine, we can cuddle while the cake bakes,” you says and he grins triumphantly.

except your cuddle session turns a little less wholesome when your clingy boyfriend gets a little too touchy.

“it’s your birthday– i should be– i should be the one doing this for you,” you gasp as he buries his face between your thighs.

“my birthday and this is exactly what i want. making my pretty girl cum til she sees stars,” he mumbles against your cunt.

your thighs squeeze around his head and he just pries them back apart, pinning them down to the mattress.

“think you can cum 26 times for me? in honor of my birthday?” he teases after your first orgasm. “are you crazy? or trying to kill me?” you ask as he kisses his way up your body until he cups her face, looking down into your eyes.

“just crazy in love with you,” he grins cheekily before kissing you. you lazily make out with him before flipping him over onto his back while you straddle his lap.

“happy birthday baby,” you whisper in his ear, lowering yourself onto his cock. you move your hips slowly, grinding against him as his hands controlled your movements.

“so perfect for me,” he mumbles against your lips. “fuck you feel so good, sweetheart,” he groans when you clench around him.

chan’s lips are all over your neck, biting and sucking on your skin, as he stills your hips and thrusts up slowly.

you let out a moan as he angled his thrusts just right, hitting that one spot deep inside you. “come on sweetheart, cum for me. gimme my birthday wish,” he purrs.

it’s not long after you cum around him before he’s filling you up. he fucks his cum into you until you’re whining from the sensitivity.

“i love you,” chan whispers, kissing you softly as he pulls out of you. he rolls you off of him and onto your side, holding you close.

“that’s three orgasms down, twenty three more to go,” he teases. “you’re insane,” you laugh softly as he nuzzled his nose against yours.

unfortunately, your sweet moment is interrupted by the smoke alarm going off downstairs.

“your cake!” you exclaim, sitting up as chan groans from the loss of your body against his. “it’s too late now, babe. it’s probably too burnt to be saved,” his arms wrap around your waist to keep you from leaving the bed as he pulls you back down.

“chan–” you start. “nope. it’s a sign to stay in bed with me. we have our goal of twenty six orgasms to reach, remember?” he says. “okay that is definitely not happening,” you say.

“i don’t need that cake anyways. i have yours already,” chan says, a smirk on his lips. before you could question him, he smacks your ass.

“you’re lucky it’s your birthday,” you give him a look and he just smiles innocently. “or what?” he asks and you just roll your eyes.

“okay, birthday or not, I’m not letting our house burn down because you distracted me,” you say, getting out of bed.

“can’t believe you’re leaving me again. on my birthday. you’re cruel, sweetheart!” your boyfriend whines dramatically from the bed.

#seventeen x reader #svt x reader #seventeen smut #svt smut #dino x reader #dino smut #lee chan x reader #lee chan smut #channiesbakery drabbles

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brainddeadd · 9 months ago

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Five Times Quinn Proposes to His Girlfriend and One Time He Actually Asks

1. The Kitchen Proposal It was a lazy Sunday morning, the kind that begged for pancakes and soft, lingering hugs. Sunlight streamed through the kitchen window, illuminating the cheerful chaos of Quinn's cooking attempts. Flour dust settled like a gentle snow, and pancake batter splattered across the counter as he flipped yet another misshapen pancake.

“Okay, but hear me out,” he said, his voice teasing as he turned to face his girlfriend, leaning against the doorframe with a bemused smile. “If you say yes to my next pancake, we can call it a proposal.”

She raised an eyebrow, her laughter bubbling up as she watched him struggle. “What does that even mean?”

Quinn held up the golden pancake like it was a diamond ring, winking. “Will you marry me? Or will you settle for this delicious, slightly burnt masterpiece?”

She rolled her eyes playfully but stepped forward, taking the pancake from his hands with mock seriousness. “Only if you promise to never make pancakes again.”

“Deal!” he declared, his grin wide enough to rival the sun shining outside. With a flick of his wrist, he tossed the pancake into the air, but it landed on the floor with a splat.

She burst out laughing, shaking her head. “This is why you’re not allowed in the kitchen without supervision!”

2. The Winter Wonderland Winter had transformed the city into a sparkling wonderland, and Quinn had convinced her to go ice skating. They bundled up in their warmest clothes, scarves wrapped snugly around their necks, and ventured to the nearby outdoor rink.

As they skated hand in hand, Quinn felt a rush of adrenaline. The cold air was refreshing, and the music playing in the background added a festive cheer. Suddenly, he paused, a wild idea striking him. Dropping to one knee on the ice, he raised an imaginary ring, his breath visible in the frosty air.

“Will you marry me?” he shouted, his voice echoing amidst the laughter of other skaters.

She stopped skating, her eyes wide in disbelief, laughter mixing with shock. “Quinn! You can’t propose on ice!”

“I can and I just did!” he replied, the playfulness in his tone infectious.

“Get up before you slip and break your knee!” she urged, trying to suppress her giggles.

“Too late! You have to answer now!” he teased, a gleam in his eye.

“Okay, okay! Yes!” she exclaimed, laughter spilling over as she reached down to help him up.

3. The Concert Surprise When their favorite band announced a surprise show in town, Quinn wasted no time in securing tickets for them. The energy in the air was electric, and they stood close together, the music vibrating through their bodies.

As the band played their favorite song, Quinn leaned close, his breath warm against her ear. “What if I proposed to you right here, right now?”

Her heart raced at the idea, and she pulled back to look into his eyes, excitement and disbelief dancing in her gaze. “In front of everyone?”

“Yeah! Just think of the stories we’d tell,” he replied, a mischievous smile creeping onto his face.

She giggled, shaking her head. “You’re insane!”

“Insanely in love with you!” he shot back, raising an imaginary ring over her head like a crown.

The chorus hit, and the crowd cheered, but all she could hear was Quinn’s laughter echoing in her heart, knowing he’d always find a way to make even the most ordinary moments extraordinary.

4. The Movie Night One rainy evening, they cozied up in their living room, surrounded by snacks and blankets. The perfect movie night atmosphere enveloped them as they settled in for a classic romantic film.

As the credits rolled and the romantic tension peaked, Quinn turned to her with a soft, earnest expression. “So, if I asked you to marry me during the climax of our movie, would you say yes?”

Her laughter filled the room, bright and infectious. “Only if you promise to let me pick the next movie! I’m not sitting through another one of your terrible action flicks.”

“Deal!” he chuckled, pulling her closer as they shared a bowl of popcorn. “But I might just have to keep proposing to you until you agree.”

She shook her head, unable to contain her smile. “Good luck with that!”

And as the rain pattered against the window, they knew their love story would be filled with all sorts of playful, ridiculous moments like this.

5. The Game Day On a particularly exciting game day, Quinn’s adrenaline was running high as the Vancouver Canucks faced off against their biggest rivals. Sitting in the hotel room after the game, he watches her face through the screen.

“You know,” he said, leaning closer to the camera, “if I proposed, it would definitely be the ultimate distraction from the game.”

“Only if you promise to be the star player in our love story,” she replied, a smirk dancing on her lips.

“Absolutely! I’ll score goals and love you forever,” he declared, making a heart with his hands, drawing laughter from her.

She leaned in closer to the phone, whispering, “Then you better hurry up and get me that ring!”

The Real Proposal Finally, on a serene Saturday morning, the sunlight filtered softly through the curtains, casting a warm glow in the bedroom. The world outside was quiet, the only sound being the gentle rustle of sheets as they stirred. Wrapped up in each other’s warmth, Quinn felt a rush of calm wash over him as he watched her sleeping peacefully.

He brushed a strand of hair from her face, his heart swelling with love. This was the moment he had been waiting for, the one that felt right.

“Hey,” he whispered, gently coaxing her awake. She stirred, her eyes fluttering open, revealing that soft smile he loved so much.

“Good morning,” she murmured, snuggling deeper into his embrace, warmth radiating from her.

Quinn took a deep breath, his heart racing. “I know I’ve jokingly proposed a million times, but this one is for real.”

She blinked at him, surprise and curiosity mixing in her gaze, and he felt a rush of nerves.

Reaching for the small velvet box he had hidden under the bed, he knelt beside her, heart pounding in his chest. “Will you marry me?”

As he opened the box, revealing the ring nestled inside, her expression transformed into one of pure joy and disbelief. Tears welled up in her eyes as she gasped, a hand flying to her mouth.

“Quinn! Is this real?” she exclaimed, her voice trembling with emotion.

“Absolutely. I want to spend forever with you,” he said, his voice filled with sincerity and love.

“Yes! A thousand times, yes!” she replied, her laughter mixing with happy tears as she threw her arms around him.

With tears of happiness in her eyes, she whispered, “Forever.”

And at 7:23 AM, under the soft covers, they promised each other a lifetime of love, laughter, and all the ridiculous proposals yet to come. The world outside faded away as they wrapped their arms around each other, knowing this was just the beginning of their beautiful journey together.

#quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes imagines #quinn hughes fanfic #° braindead writes

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revelboo · 3 months ago

Note

Hey Revel, would you do some mechs (your choice) finding out that their human has some kind of unexpected and useful skill, please?

My ex has been harassing me and calling me useless and I'd really love to see some positive from my favorite characters. Thank you! 💙

Sure! Don’t pay any mind to the ex. They’re an ex for a reason and it kind of sounds like they’re just trying to make you miserable to be petty

Scenario- fascination

Waspinator x Reader, TFP Bulkhead x Reader, Bluestreak x Reader, Armada Starscream x Reader

Waspinator

• Sighing as a mandible brushes your cheek, you’d long since accepted that you no longer have personal space. Your space is also your clingy bug husband’s space. Arms wrapped around your middle and chin on your shoulder, he watches you mixing the batter with the same rapt fascination he reserves for anything you do. How many times has he watched you stress baking cupcakes? It can’t be that interesting anymore, but he’s fixated on your every move. Like it’s magic to him. Maybe it is. You’ve seen his attempts to cook for you and had to threaten him with violence to get him to stop trying.

• Watching his little mate’s hands as you’d measured mysterious powders and liquids in a bowl, breaking the delicate little eggs, and then mixing it all, he vents against your neck, scenting the sweet organic stuff and you. Knows you’ll then line that metal pan that he’s forbidden from eating with paper things in the little holes then spoon in the mixture. And you’ll make human food. Loves watching you decorate the little things, the way you fuss to make each one perfect, shaping sugary petals and flowers for them even though you’re just going to eat them. You’re happy, so he’s happy even though eating the pretty things makes him sick.

Bluestreak

• “Ta-da,” you murmur, lips twitching in embarrassment as you hold up the flower chain and he leans forward to let you drape it around his neck. Watch him reach up, servos just shy of touching it like he’s afraid he’ll break it and he beams at you. Like you’d just done the coolest thing ever instead of something childish. And your heart skips a beat at his smile, warmth spreading through you.

• You made him something with those soft hands. Burying his face against your neck, he hears you laugh as he tugs you onto your back and he shifts over you. Wanting more. A kiss, to touch you. To love you, but unsure if you’d let him. If you like him that way and he’s too scared to ask. To find out that you don’t. “Thank you,” he murmurs against your skin and you cup the back of his helm as he vents deeply, scenting you and the green scent of the broken flower stems. And the delicate chain will go into his locker with everything else you’ve made for him, his treasures. He’d lost everything when he’d lost his home and family. Hadn’t bothered to collect things, to keep mementos after that, but he wants those things you give him or make him. Because you’re his home, the only thing he needs and the only thing he can’t keep. Wishes he was braver. That he could tell you he loves you, needs you.

Armada Starscream

• Spark warming as you fuss over his mini-cons like they’re yours, he can’t help but imagine you as a carrier with your own sparklings. With his sparklings. It’s become a guilty fantasy that he can’t actually admit to you, that any time he touches you, he’s thinking about sparking you. About trying to. And you’d be such a good carrier, can tell watching you with his mini-cons. Spike stirring at the thought of you sparked with his young, his wings flare slightly.

• Aware of him staring at you, the mini-cons notice too and chirp softly. Leaving the two of you without needing to be asked as everything shifts and you beat. Because you know that look on his face. Know that he’s thinking about sex, about you suddenly. Breathless as he mass shifts and stalks your way, you have no idea what flicked his switch, but you’re not about to complain.

TFP Bulkhead

• Teeth sinking into your bottom lip as you wedge an arm between two armor panels to fish out a shard of metal, you’re aware of Bulkhead trying so hard to be still for you, his deep voice rough. “Thanks again. Didn’t want to bother Ratchet with a little scratch,” he says, a servo brushing your spine and you shoot him a look.

• Venting at that censoring frown, he knows you don’t approve of him avoiding the medic and a proper check up, but he’d rather have your soft hands gently pulling out shrapnel instead of Ratchet’s strong servos. You’re always so careful like you’re afraid you’re going to hurt him, but you’ve also never once dropped a shard down between his plating. Not that Ratchet has, either, but if it’s you or the cranky, old medic? He’ll choose you every time. And there’s the added bonus of your soft form sprawled on him to reach, though he can’t admit that to you. That he loves the feel of you stretched out on top of him, gets flustered just thinking of it, his spike stirring behind his plating to make him shift uncomfortably. Hating that he can’t just say that he wants more than your friendship, that he wants it all. Wants you.

#transformers x reader #waspinator x reader #waspinator #tfp bulkhead #bulkhead x reader #starscream x reader #armada starscream #bluestreak x reader #tf bluestreak

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kkukverse · 8 months ago

Text

Down and down

Pair : mma fighter jeon jungkook x reader

Fall, everything

fall, everything

fall, everything,

The muffled screams, the ringing in his ears. The blurry vision and he was sure for a good minute that he was losing his eyesight. If it weren’t for the camera’s flickering lights and the spotlight beaming on this octagon, he thought he was blind. The blow from this McGregor guy took him down, left him sprawling on the red tainted mat. Bloods spluttered everywhere, mixed with his and the opponent’s sweat. Sticky liquid dripping from both of their mouths as the referee pounds his fist onto the white mat.

He can see the referee mouthing something, he doesn’t have to focus so hard to know that the referee is counting down the numbers.

“One!” there’s a pause.

“Kook, get up!” from all of the deafening sounds in his head he managed to catch his coach’s muffled voice.

“Two!” the referee slaps the mat even harder,

“You motherfu- Jeon Jungkook! GET YOUR ASS UP!” His coach is frantically trying to wake him.

“Thre-”

“Jungkook? Jungkookie? Kookie.” His bruised eyes widen at the sound. It is the most angelic sound he ever heard.

Am I already in heaven he thought.

It’s his most favorite voice in the whole world, the voice that soothes the raging storm in him, the voice that could calm his sea of confusion, your voice.

She’s here? No. She left. It feels like the time stopped and Jungkook is battling with his inner thought, full of you in it. He slowly raised his upper body before the referee could scream the last number straight at his face.The crowd was a mixture of boos and cheers. In that dramatic moment, his coach managed to ask for a time out. Jungkook was carried by his team members to the corner of the octagon.

Blood was covering most of his body parts, Taehyung wipes them off with cold towels and Jimin was frantically putting balm on his busted lips and on the torn skin above his left brow. Jungkook’s heavily panting for air to fill his lungs and he is still intoxicated with adrenalines. Coach Kim put his hand on both of his cheeks to check if there are any cuts before Jungkook splutters your name over and over again.

“Is s-she here? Is she here? Please, is she here?” He keeps on muttering something along with your name and Taehyung is shushing him because from the look of it, Jungkook is about to lose his mind and now is not the right time to be that.

“Kook, she’s not here, but you gotta keep your head in the game.” Coach Kim speaks in a clear voice as he maintains eye contact with Jungkook. With a badly swollen left eye, there’s nothing much Jungkook can see anyway. “I heard her. She’s here, I can hear her voice, she's calling my name, coach please look for her. I know she’s here” Jungkook pleads at his coach with tears streaming down his face.

“I will look for her, but you gotta finish this fight first” Jimin cups Jungkook’s face. Jimin knows very well that it is borderline impossible to find you at this moment. But if it is what can make Jungkook to keep his head in the game, Jimin wouldn’t hesitate to make up lies.

The crowd erupted again once both fighters were back in the middle of the fighting pit.

The fight continued and ended with Jungkook lost. It was a painful loss, physically and emotionally. All battered and bruised for nothing. He was the boy who is prepared for the battle but never for the lost.

But not lately.

There’s a dreadful silence on the way back to the gym. No one could say a word or even looked at each other. With Jimin patting Jungkook’s shoulder, trying to comfort him, Taehyung can only stare out of the window with Coach Kim gripping tightly on his ipad.

Taehyung peers to look at the blinding lights from the device.

“The highest paid fighter, Golden Boy Jungkook third lost this season: was recruiting him into the biggest MMA club was a big mistake? It’s indeed a total blow.”

Taehyung scoffed at the stupid headline. The media is so fast to spread nonsense. Absentmindedly, he switched off the devices since the email was flooding in. Coach Kim just let him.

Everyone is mad at the situation, not at the losing fighter. But he seems to be blaming himself by the soft sound of the sniffles coming from him.

“Kook-ah, it’s fine. We can practice more. There’s always another competition you can win” Coach Kim looks at the poor boy he trained for years sitting on a single seat at the back. This huge tour bus makes Jungkook look so small and fragile in his eyes.

Jimin squeezed his shoulders, winced as he noticed how stiff he had become.

“You said you will look for her,” came out like a soft defeated whisper from Jungkook. His eyes stared blankly from the tinted bus’s window. It’s almost like a universal joke because somehow it started pouring down. He blames the sky for mockingly crying at him, he hates the night sky for being so gloomy ever since the day you left him.

How could the sky pitied him and yet do nothing when it became his witness on the night he boarded the airplane.

“You know very well she’s not there, Jungkook. You can’t get mad at Jimin, hell, you shouldn’t be mad at anyone especially yourself. You have to stop brooding like this. It happened months ago. Get over it!” Taehyung turns his back to look at Jungkook.

The boy is still staring out. Taehyung is slightly annoyed with Jungkook because he cares about him a lot.

They fight together, they used to fight each other, they’re each other’s sparring partner. The golden boys of Kim’s Gym and now the rising stars of BigHit Mixed Martial Arts gym. Jungkook was the boy who has the highest winning streaks in a season. Knocking down opponents like they’re made of papers.

Keyword; was.

He slowly went into a slump. As an athlete, slump is dangerous, both mentally and physically. Coach Kim couldn’t force him to practice anymore because he wouldn’t dodge punches and kicks. He lets himself bruised and bleed. Coach Kim thought the best way to get him fired up again is through competition.

Coach Kim knows that Jungkook loves the adrenaline rush, the roaring screams from his fans, he loves it when the referee raises up his hand as he won the fight. But Coach Kim is wrong. Today was his third match and he lost all of them.

“Taehyung is right. I hate seeing you like this. And I’m sorry for making you fight out of your will. I thought it was for the best.” Coach Kim spoke up to soothe the tense atmosphere. He knows Taehyung means well but he practically raises these three, like he did with his other fighters.

Since they’re the youngest, he has a soft spot for them. The older fighters have achieved a lot, and more mature in handling their emotions. These three are still kids to him. So the moment Jungkook came back that one night, sobbing and broken, he knows something isn’t right.

And he knows he has to be tough on Jungkook. Otherwise, Jungkook will spiral down. Like right now.

“Jungkook,” Jimin speaks quietly, “Do you wanna look for her again?” Jungkook raised his head to look at Jimin. He gave him a look that Jimin knows so well, his losing hope kind of look.

“I would kill to see her again, but I would die if that ever happened because I broke her, Jimin. How could I see her when I’m the last person she would ever want to see?”

He met you five years ago. In his aunt’s grocery store. You were the new girl in town, the transferred, new teacher at the local elementary school.

The day you walked into his aunt’s store was the day one of his silly hopeless romantic fantasy becoming real. He had this vision of falling in love at the sound of a bell because of an anime movie he watched with Taehyung and Jimin. He rewatched that movie over and over again, imagining finding his true love the way the protagonists in the movie did.

And it happened.

It was a sweet jingle from the bell on the main door of the store, and you walked in wearing a white shirt and faded blue jeans, looking so effortlessly pretty to him. Jungkook thought his eyes were playing tricks with him that day but he swears he can see rays of sunlight following you.

Like a spotlight or it was just him zooming on you. Nevertheless, you were glowing to him. How can he forget that?

He was busy gobbling down his lunch after he helped his aunt unloaded boxes of groceries on the display shelves. With oil from the fried eggs on the corner of his lips, lips swollen from the spiciness of the gochujang. The bibimbap was delicious but the moment your eyes caught his, the lunch just stuck in his throat, causing him to choke.

He was fucked and it was obvious from the way you were taken aback with his loud cough. He banged his chest with his fist, to control his unstoppable coughing before he immediately ran to the back of the store.

Gulping down the water, he wanted to cry because your first impression of him, was him, choking on a piece of fried egg because he decided to inhale instead of chewing.

He thought the best way for this to end, is just sitting at the back of the store until you left. He can hear his aunt conversing with you and he envied that. But he is still embarrassed!

While he was busy kicking himself, he noticed the chirping of his aunt’s voice asking you but he didn’t hear your voice, not clearly enough. So he is focusing now, head tilted so his ears can catch the conversation. He acted like a creep and for a second that thought makes him blushed in more shame.

“If you need anything you can just come here and ask. We’re glad to help. What about your belongings? Did you already move them in?” The voice of his aunt sounds like an echo to him. Jungkook was still chewing the bits of meat from the bibimbap. They were a bit tough and might have stuck in his teeth but he didn’t give a damn. Sulking.

“I only bring the necessary stuff, the one I managed to carry with my car. I have to buy other necessities here though.” Your voice. Holly shit, Jungkook lost it at your voice.

If he is poetic, he’d said your voice is like spring water washing him from head to toe. Refreshing. With no one watching Jungkook grinned like a fool. He doesn’t even know your name. It was literally five seconds ago when he met you.

“Of course, of course. Do you need help? It pains my heart to see a girl like you carrying heavy things, all by yourself,” His aunt sounds concerned and she has always been that kind of person. The woman who cares about everyone, Jungkook respect his aunt so much.

He took a wild guess, his aunt is probably being mindful about the stuff you bought. Maybe you bought too much than what you can handle.

“I guess I do need help,” you chuckle. Jungkook thought he fell deep after hearing your voice and now your chuckles are going to be the reason why he will keep falling. Jungkook is daydreaming of hearing your chuckles and he is already making a list of jokes he can throw at you randomly.

He was so sure he wanted to keep seeing you. As you will be a resident in this neighbourhood, he will make sure to get to know you. Just not today. He shivers at the memory of your wide eyes after hearing his horrendous cough.

Not today, he will make a second first impression to you. In a more gentleman manner.

“Jungkook! Jeon Jungkook!"

"This boy. Is he still at the back?” His aunt started shouting for him, shattering his plan and his ears. Oh but he’s definitely thinking of your ears first. His aunt has a habit of shouting since she is the boss, that’s how she makes the men move in this store.

Jungkook just groaned loud enough for her to hear him. Remember when he said his aunt cares about everyone? Well his aunt can be scary too. After he realizes his aunt is tutting at the cashier table, he scrambles his long legs to her.

“Coming, coming. I was eating.” Jungkook whined as he dragged his feet towards his aunt. She knocked his head with a fly swatter.

“Still eating?! You liar! You already ate! You’re sleeping aren’t ya? Here, come here,” she dragged him by his ear. You chuckle at the view as the two of them looked funny.

Jungkook can’t control how his lips are cracking to form the biggest grin ever at that sound. And wow seeing you up close is far more magical than he had envisioned. Jungkook is definitely taller than you seeing from his one set of doe eyes as he was awkwardly bending down because his aunt pulled him by the ear.

“Ow ow ow I’m sorry! Stop!” He whines louder. His brain finally sent him the pain signal because he was a little occupied as he looked at you.

You were gazing at him with your soft eyes, and he remembers that he is not wearing his best hoodie today. Jungkook was in his beige baggy sweater, rolled up to his elbows, and black sweatpants. His thick and messy long hair, his pinkish lips, slight oil by the corner of his mouth. He sighed in his heart.

So much for a gentleman’s first impression. But you didn’t give him a disgusting look. Even there’s almost dry sweat patches on his chest, and around the armpits area. You were still smiling sweetly.

Damn, forget the joke list, if he can keep making you smiling like that, he’ll be the happiest man.

His aunt nudged him and broke him of his own dream.

“You make me look like a fool!” He whispered to his aunt before she laughed out loud.

“Now, now, is our Jungkookie shy??” She pinched his right cheek.

“This adorable boy is my nephew. But don’t let his looks fool you, he is a mischievous kid.”

“My aunt can get quite excited with people sometimes.” Jungkook smile wide enough before his body went rigid. Shit what if there’s meat stuck in between his teeth?!

What he didn’t know was, you think he is so cute.

Because for a moment he was smiling so bright and then suddenly he zoned out like a puppy. You already think he was cute that day.

His aunt shoots him a harmless glare before she pats his butt.

“She’s new here. Can you please go and help her carry the things? Be the strong man, Kook,” she whispered in the last sentence and sent the boy a wink. Jungkook scoffed and as if you haven’t heard or witnessed all of that.

His aunt, whom he’s thankful for with every breath he takes.

The soft knocks on his door bring him back to the present. These days, no, ever since he left for Japan all he think about are you, his aunt, the little town and you, you, you.

“Have you called your aunt yet, Jungkook?” Taehyung peaked his head through the slit of the door. The light breaking into the dark door. Jungkook didn’t even realize he’s been looming in the dark space, he doesn’t even know if it’s day or night.

Taehyung sighs at the tiny hum Jungkook gave him. His little breakdown at Jungkook on the bus last night still makes him guilty. Taehyung knows him better than anyone, and for him to snap at Jungkook like that, he felt guilty. But somebody gotta wake Jungkook up from this state.

“Jungkook,” Taehyung grips harder on the door handle, before he pushes it wide open. Jungkook groaned at the sudden intrusion of light and his friend.

When you’re in the dark for quite some time the lights can be too blinding.

“Dude what the fuck!” Jungkook barks. Hands hastily pulling up the heavy blanket, hiding himself under it. He hates it. Hate it how he knows he looks pathetic but he doesn’t want to do anything about it.

“Get up.” Taehyung’s voice is deep and firm. He is so much like his dad. Growing up watching his dad coach fighters, Jungkook thinks this is where Taehyung gained this scary aura. Taehyung doesn’t even flinch at Jungkook’s growling.

Jungkook refused to get up until Taehyung pulled the blanket off of him in one snatched. Jungkook hates it. He feels like he is disappointing everyone and he hates how he can clearly sense annoyance in Taehyung’s sigh.

Taehyung could never feel annoyed by his friends and Jungkook knows that.

“Kook,” Taehyung softly coaxed him. Taehyung feels like he is suffocating seeing Jungkook all crumpled up, bending his body like a lost little child. Where did his strong friend go?

“Kook, man you gotta get up,” Taehyung sits down at the edge of the bed. Eyes still on Jungkook even though the man is still shutting his eyes tight. “I apologize for last night, kay?” Taehyung continued.

“‘Kay,” was all Jungkook replied. Honestly, he doesn’t remember what happened last night. All he knew was he lost.

“Dad told me your aunt called him. Saying she couldn’t reach you. Give the lady a call, Kook.”

“Later,”

“Kook-”

“Anything else Tae? If not, leave me alone.”

Taehyung lets out another defeated sigh. “Yes,” he stands up with his hands inside his pocket.

“We’re going for a run.” Taehyung moves to grab clean sweats and hoodie for Jungkook before he pulls his friend up with all his might because Jungkook is really heavy.

Taehyung must stay positive for his friend. That’s the least he can do. Trying to get his friend back up from a lost battle was never easy and add heartbreak to that too, it is almost impossible.

Jungkook didn’t disobey him because he loves running. He runs all the time. At dawn, or dusk. He runs playfully with his friends, runs for practice, or just simply running and enjoying the scenery.

Tokyo air is very different from his little hometown. There’s no usual bun stall where he can get two red bean buns for free because he always helped the old lady setting up her stall. There’s no chirping and giggling sounds of the school kids coming back from school.

Laughing at him because 'Jungkook hyung is so funny.'

Tokyo feels so cold and silent. There’s no you in Tokyo. There's no one to share red bean buns with. Once, he bought four buns to eat with you after his running sessions, before he took you home on his scooter.

After the first meeting at the store, Jungkook always bumped into you. Either when you’re on your way to school while he is finishing the last lap of his run, or when he was just riding his scooter around the school - hoping to catch a glimpse of you.

That first time, he gave you all of his favorite red bean buns because he saw you walking home. Like many late afternoons, Jungkook noticed you were waiting at the gate with the boy he knows, Daehwi.

Jungkook was running an errand for his aunt at that time. He has no idea why he keeps messing up every time you’re near him. He unconsciously twisted his hand harsher making his scooter almost jump forward.

Suddenly the slow scooter became the fastest vehicle as he zoomed past the two of you. He can see you flinched before you stand protectively in front of Daehwi, the kid whines as he bumps into your back. Jungkook instantly breaks and he makes a sharp U-turn, to apologize.

Looking at you with his wide eyes and open mouth after he took off his helmet. It wasn’t a big scary and loud motorcycle. It’s the scooter he used when he’s on delivery for his aunt. Jungkook winced apologetically as he can see how you stand in front of your student.

One hand on your hip, you’re biting your inner cheek to suppress a laugh because Jungkook looks like he is about to cry. Perhaps feeling guilty, for driving recklessly.

“Jeon Jungkook-” with a low tone, you tried to intimidate him. Tapping your foot. Jungkook is blaming his guardian ancestors because they never helped him. Does he even have one?! He needs one before you hate him, completely.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he dropped his helmet with carrot stickers all over it into the scooter basket, clasping his hands together.

You hum before you move away to show Jungkook the scared little boy hiding behind you.

Jungkook understand that it’s not you he needs to apologize to,

“I’m sorry little guy,” he pouted.

Daehwi, the loveliest child who can never stand someone else feeling sad, accepted Jungkook’s apology in the most heartwarming way.

“It’s okay Kookie hyung,” coming closer to Jungkook before he taps on his knee. “But you scared Miss ____, hyung.” The little kid looking at Jungkook as firm as he can though his tiny hand on his knee makes Jungkook almost cooed loudly.

Jungkook’s much larger hand is on top of Daehwi’s little hands.

Jungkook dropped his shoulders with puppy eyes looking at you. Mouthing ‘I’m sorry’. Your mouth twitched up and Jungkook knew he’s fine.

You concluded that Jungkook is such a big child. Adorable. Everyone here knows him, he delivers food, vegetables, or anything his aunty tells him to deliver. Diligent and friendly.

The example is here, little Daehwi is so much more comfortable around Jungkook than he is with you. Jungkook is paying attention to Daehwi as he whispers something to him. Eventhough you can catch them very well. Daehwi is just too cute.

“Kookie hyung, can I ride your scooter?”

“Ah, little guy I would love to. But if your mom finds out she’s gonna tell my aunt. And my aunt isn’t really cool. She nags too much.” Jungkook playfully makes a grimace face as if he really can’t stand his aunt. When in reality he loves that old lady like she is his mom.

Daehwi gives a scandalous look at Jungkook, instantly correcting him. “I am not a little guy, I am nine this year, right Miss ___?” He turns to face you for confirmation. “I am big enough,” he mumbles under his breath. Coming closer to him, you fix his backpack that is tilted from him moving so fast to be near Jungkook.

“Yup, but sometimes, big kids can get hurt too. Your mom doesn’t want to see you’re hurting. I would be so sad if something happened to you, too,” you coaxed Daehwi. He hung his head low but perks up at the mention of his mom.

“Then hyung, get down! Don’t make Miss ____ sad,” with his chubby fingers he tried to pull Jungkook to come down from his scooter. Tumbling forward, Jungkook carefully gets off the scooter and lets the nine year old lead him closer to you.

The two of you chuckled at his cute actions before realizing that Daehwi placed Jungkook’s hand onto yours while he held your other hand.

Jungkook feels a gush of warmth on the inside and he can’t think straight. He was holding his breath not knowing how to react with his large hand engulfing yours. ‘Crap, my palms are fucking sweaty’ Jungkook whines in his mind.

Blinking furiously because he wanted to wipe the sweat off but he wants to keep holding your hand. The biggest dilemma in his life.

Neither of you tried to break the holds. Jungkook thought you still didn’t let go of his hand because you don’t wanna be rude but what he didn’t know was you were thinking of how slippery your hands are because of the hand lotion you applied earlier on.

He glanced at you through the corner of his eyes, you were biting your lower lips, trying to focus on Daehwi rambling about his truck toys. Daehwi is telling you and Jungkook that he wanted a scooter toy next time, if his mom allowed him. Like Jungkook’s he says. It was endearing but the two of you are too focused on your hands.

“Mom!” Daehwi shouted as he saw his mom getting down from the car. Immediately you tighten your hold on his pudgy hand so he's not crossing the road mindlessly. You wait until his mom is closer enough before you slowly let him go, he runs towards his mom’s embrace with giggles. His mom picks him up as she bows a little to you.

“Thank you, I’m terribly sorry for being so late.” With an apologetic look on her face.

“It’s okay, please don’t be sorry. I am willing to wait for him.” You’re not letting her keep apologizing to you. Jungkook stares in awe at you, who keeps bowing at the mother.

“Daewhi is a good boy, I had fun waiting with him.” You chuckled at the boy, who was tucked behind his mom’s thighs. Whining at her that he is hungry for curry.

“I better get going. Daehwi, say goodbye to your teacher,” his mom asked him. “And to Jungkook hyung too,” his mom smirks at the hands that are still holding onto each other, with a knowing look she smiles at the two of you.

Like an electric jolt, you and Jungkook let go of each other’s hands. He rubs the back of his neck and you clasped your hands together.

Silently he frowned at the loss of the delicate small hand.

“Kookie hyung is being safe, so Miss ___ won’t be sad if he gets hurt,” explained Daehwi.

“Oh I’m sure he is safe, baby. Now let’s go home. Goodbye you two.” She said as she gave a witty smile to the two of you.

Silence fills the surrounding after Daehwi and his mom drove away. Jungkook feels the urge to say something but for some reason his throat is clogged up.

“Are you on errands, Jungkook?” You break the silence.

“Nope,” answered without a beat. So much of self control Jeon.

“Can you give me a ride home?”

“Wha- why?” his heart is beating wild. You wanna ride his scooter. With him! And his stupid mouth asked ‘why’ ???!

“I’m sorry for the sudden request, it’s just that I have a few things to carry with me. Or maybe my legs are slowly giving up because I’ve been standing up for too long today,” you explained shyly.

If Jungkook can shut down the thrumming of his heart maybe he can hear how you’re nervous around him too.

He was just gazing at his shoes, swaying a little. Waiting for you to finish talking. He thinks you’re gonna hate him for not able to answer immediately but Jungkook was just in the zone, because YOU WANTED TO RIDE HIS UGLY SCOOTER!

It’s not a chick magnet kind of bike like Taehyung’s, it’s an old, beige, boring scooter!

“Only if you don’t mind,” you asked softly, as you thought it might not reach his ears but he snapped his head so fast to you.

“Of course!” His voice sounds a little higher. “I mean, of course I don’t mind,” he mumbles. Hands up, showing you that he is completely okay with your request.

“But I don’t have an extra helmet, never mind, you can just wear mine.” Jungkook mumbles to himself. His hands are busy putting the carrot-stickers helmet on your head when you just stare dumbfounded at him.

Laughing at his action, you hunched over with hands on your stomach. “Oh my god Jungkook. Let me grab my stuff first,” you wheeze.

Jungkook finally realized that he went ahead of himself and you were standing in front of him, with your cute giggles and closed eyes and puffed cheeks, way shorter than him and his hands are still under your chin. Trying to buckle the helmet. His eyes widen at the sound of your laugh.

“You’re silly,” you wipe the corner of your eyes, a bit teary from the laughing.

Jungkook frowned at that, “I’m not silly. I thought you’re ready to go.”

“How can I possibly be ready when my stuff is still inside?” You let yourself go from his hands that were still cupping your chin. Walking inside to get your bag and a small box of arts materials (maybe you don’t actually have a lot of stuff to carry or you just want to spend some time with Jungkook?)

Jungkook saw you and immediately rushed to help you carry the box. You did tell him you’re very capable but Jungkook pretends he didn’t hear that.

“You can hold on to me if you want.” Jungkook pulls the baby hair, at the tip of his sideburn, a habit to distract himself.

“I would like it if you hold on to me, you’d be safe.” He adds. Eyes straight forward, too shy to look at you, wearing his helmet, his favorite helmet! Lightly tapping your box inside the scooter basket with his free hand.

“Okay Jungkook,” you chuckle. Jungkook heard you huffing as you struggled to tighten the helmet and he without a beat, softly tugging the end of the straps. Helping you out and the close proximity allowed him to be so absorbed by staring at your face, your beautiful eyes, your soft jawline, the slope of your cute nose, the slight pouty lips, your eyelashes. Everything about you is so pretty.

Suddenly he heard a gasp and his big eyes staring shockingly at you, mouth gaping and all. “You think I'm pretty?” You whispered.

Fuck!

A curse comes out of his mouth and he wanted, no, dying, for the earth to swallow him because he just blurted his thoughts out loud and now you know he thinks you’re pretty.

Worst case scenario? Probably you threw his helmet and just walked home. But you were giving him the million dollar smile. The smile he is getting used to. And then suddenly you uttered the magical words to him, “I think you’re pretty too.” it was a firework festival inside of him. Jungkook is back to his smug face and smirking at your flustered self.

Giving him a bashful smile, you hop on behind him, arms are shyly snaking around his waist. Jungkook’s heart is soaring high. He is sure you can definitely hear his wild heart beating so loud.

“Here we go,”

“Tae, I need to speak with you,” Jimin whispered to Taehyung as the later man was just finished sparring up with another fighter. Panting while wiping the sweat with an already drenched hand towel.

He jumped down to be close to Jimin. From the look on his face, whatever he is about to say must be very serious.

“Yeah? What’s up?” Taehyung asked. It was a hard practice today and he is still panting.

“I found her,”

There’s a sudden silence after Jimin uttered the words. Except Taehyung’s heavy breathing. Jimin found you. Taehyung’s jaw clenched at the information. He knows Jimin hasn’t told Jungkook yet, because Jimin told him first.

He doesn’t need to think much, honestly, because out of everyone, Taehyung was the first one who knows Jungkook is in love with you even when Jungkook shyly denied that. He knows how important you are to Jungkook.

With his head hung low, Taehyung threw off the boxing gloves onto the fighting mat. The three of them grew up together. Seeing Jungkook in this condition breaks his heart. Out of everyone who found Jungkook whipped in love, it was Taehyung.

Taehyung becomes an acquaintance with you as you’re the new tenant moved a few blocks from his house.

Few years ago, when he found out about you and Jungkook, he was relentless at teasing the younger guy. Jungkook used to be very private about his love life but with you, he’s different. He talks about you all the time. Taehyung is sure that Jungkook’s mind is occupied with you.

He tried to swing a punch pad to Jungkook, just to intimidate him.

It is a known fact that Jungkook never missed a swing, not even from the coach. But Taehyung shouted your name and the punch pad kissed Jungkook on his face. And Taehyung is now 120% sure, Jeon Jungkook is whipped as hell.

“You ass,” Jungkook hissed as Jimin pressed the ice pack on his slightly swollen cheek. Taehyung doubled over with booming laughter and he received a sharp glare from Jimin. He has to halt his training to treat Jungkook. Even though Taehyung is the same age as Jimin, Jimin always acted like the eldest brother. The logic is because he was born a few months earlier than Taehyung.

“I have a match next week and now I have to babysit you. Be serious for once,” Jimin scowl and Taehyung pokes his sides. He knows Jimin will never stay mad. He is the strongest in his weight class, everyone in the city will shiver at the mention of his name.

But Jimin has the softest heart of them all. Every time one of them is injured, Jimin will go all the way to treat them, even if the injury is from a silly prank.

“Take care of your body, you said you wanna join Joon hyung in Japan,” Jimin pressed a little harder on Jungkook’s cheeks. Purposely sting him so he listened.

“I am! Tae cannot stop being an annoying little prick,” Jungkook pointed his hand at the giggling Taehyung. Poking his own tongue on the inside of his cheek. Hissing as he felt a little sore.

Swiping the laughing tear from the corner of his eyes, Taehyung lay down on the floor. All sweaty.

“Oh our dear Jungkookie and my neighbour.” he teases Jungkook while making a kissy face and a loud smooch echoed in the gym. Jungkook just groaned frustratingly.

“I will never stop teasing you,” Taehyung sings songs.

His cheeks are flushed red. Hand grabbing a towel to throw at Taehyung. “Shut up Taehyung!”

Taehyung chuckles bitterly as he remembers those nights Jungkook swooning over you, as they walked home from the gym. He always talks about you. You were Jungkook’s girl, everyone knows that.

He even knows the reason you and him broke apart. He witnessed the night the two hearts of his friends’ shattered into tiny pieces. The night that haunts Jungkook, the night that he carried Jungkook to the gym. Meeting his dad. The night Jungkook decided that he agreed for Japan.

“Tae, do you think we should tell him?” Jimin asked.

“We gotta tell him,” Taehyung said with a determined look on his face. That night shouldn’t have happened, and he shouldn’t just watch you slip away from Jungkook just like that. What kind of friend was he?

Silence never really means anything is doing good. Like right now, Jungkook is sitting on the couch after Coach Kim broke the news to him.

Another match.

After a heated phone call with the McGregor team, Coach Kim called Jungkook to meet him at the gym. Coach Kim told him about the phone call he received just now, the phone call that requested another match with Jungkook.

Coach Kim refused without hesitation, even BigHit agreed with him but McGregor felt like it was an unjust match for him. He claimed Jungkook didn’t give his all and that somehow wounded him.

McGregor said he’s been studying Jungkook over the years, he knows Jungkook won a lot of titles and his skill is the most immaculate.

He has been waiting to fight him and he did. They had their first match and Jungkook fell lower than his expectation. For some reason he felt like Jungkook was fooling him around. This is why he demanded another fight.

Coach Kim is swallowing hard, because he doesn’t want to hurt Jungkook. He wasn’t purposely losing that day. Jungkook never wanted to win anyway.

Not when he stepped into the octagon, not even when he boarded the airplane. It was already over long before McGregor. In fact Coach Kim is still blaming himself for making Jungkook fight in the match that secured him a spot in Japan.

Jungkook said nothing as he kept staring at his own feet. Both Jungkook and Coach Kim seem to be lost in their own memories.

“Kook, I need to prepare you for the next match, in September.” Coach Kim’s voice echoed in the gym as he walked to the boys. The three of them, Jungkook, Taehyung and Jimin are sprawling on the fighting mat after a rigorous training.

Jimin was hellbent on making the other two his sparring partner because he was almost lost to the one of the fighters from Lee gym. He was annoyed. When Jimin is annoyed, he is relentless and punched so hard. Sometimes Jungkook wonders what he eats, for someone his size, Jimin is a beast.

Panting on the floor, Jungkook uses one hand to lift the side of his body, searching for his coach. “September? That’s such a short notice. It’s a few months from now.” He whines.

Thinking about the overload of workout he must complete, he needs to maintain the body weight and still burn calories and all. It is such a fuss because it requires mental and physical preparation.

“Yea, Jungkook. It’s a friendly match."

"Come here, check your weight. We have to put on weight this time Jeon. Let’s conquer a different weight class, yeah?” Coach Kim sings songs.

Taehyung is laughing at his friend’s misery. He knows how Jungkook has been on this weird fibre diet because he’s trying to lose weight. Taehyung and Jungkook are in the same weight class even though Jungkook is much more muscular. Taehyung knows his dad, he gotta bulk up Jungkook because Taehyung is already dominating in their weight class.

“Coachhh,” Jungkook stomped his feet. “It’s my first anniversary soon. I wanna go food hunting with ___.” Jimin chuckles as he shakes his head at Jungkook’s childish behaviour.

Being the youngest of the group gets him away with everything. Jimin winced at the thought of having to gain weight because it was such a hell ride.

Gaining weight is much more difficult than losing weight. He knew it firsthand when he had to gain 10kg for a match. It was a torture, but that’s the life of an athlete, especially MMA fighters.

“If you manage to gain weight, you can easily win with your skill. We just need to sharpen a little on the jabs and your kick. This new weight class will secure you a place in a bigger tournament.” Coach Kim explains.

“Stop whining, all of your hyungs have done it before. ____ will understand, she always understands.” Coach Kim sends a strict glare to Jungkook only to be counter attacked with big watery eyes.

Taehyung and Jimin eagerly nod, proving the Coach’s statement. Taehyung chuckles, knowing that if he pulls out his name, Jungkook will do it in a heartbeat. “Even Namjoon hyung had to gain weight that one time,”

Hearing his idol’s name Jungkook instantly standing next to Coach Kim, wiping the dirt on his butt. Eyes are fiery as he stares at the meal plan and workout plan Coach Kim already made for him.

“This time we gotta avoid this, okay?” Jungkook pleaded as he pointed at his face. The last time he took a jab and came home to you with a swollen eye. Jungkook told his coach that he wanted to learn a faster shielding skill. So that no one can touch his face. He said you were crying when you saw him looking like a goey ugly fish.

“Can’t afford to make my girl cry anymore,” Jungkook grinned cheekily. Coach Kim just shakes his head at his action.

“Puppy love,” he muttered but Jungkook gasped dramatically.

“It’s not puppy love! We love each other. She’s the one,” Jungkook claimed. How dare his coach teased him like that. You are the light of his life.

She’s the one

The more the words replaying in his head the more it hurts. It keeps pounding non stop and Jungkook is tired. He misses you. So much. He hates Japan. He hates himself. Why did he go out that night? Why can he just listen to you? Why did he need to go there and beat his opponent to pulp? Why did he let his temper take over him?

“Tell him I gave up,” Jungkook gets up from the couch. He no longer turns around even after Coach Kim keeps calling his name.

“Jungkook boy, you really gonna give up like that? I know you’re a pussy but holy fuck! That kid can’t even punch me!” The boisterous laugh from the tv screen echoed inside Coach Kim’s room.

Taehyung is clenching his jaw and Jimin sends deathly glare at the flat tv screen. The interviews McGregor did live just now shows that he’s been picking Jungkook’s name and calling him out for not wanting to go for a second match.

Jungkook is eating a bowl of ice cream with no care in the world as he sits in the corner of the room. Not minding how many times McGregor has been calling out his name from the tv. McGregor is sitting too proudly with a heavy gold belt slung across his puffed chest. Jungkook just smirks at the image. That used to be his dream.

“You just gonna let him shitting about you like that?” Taehyung said in his deep voice. His eyes sharply glaring at Jungkook. He is mad for his best friend.

But Jungkook doesn’t even budge a muscle, except the one in his mouth, he keeps swallowing a spoonful of ice cream.

“Let him, I lost interest.” Jungkook sighs.

Taehyung scoffs bitterly at his nonchalant reply. Without thinking straight he let his mouth run on it’s own. “What would ___ say to you now, Jungkook?”

Suddenly there’s dead silence in the office. Coach Kim raised his head at his son, eyes wide. Jimin holds his breath but he still glances at Jungkook from his seat, curious to see the younger boy’s reaction at the mention of your name.

Taehyung is still glaring at Jungkook, the tension is thick in the air as Jungkook slams his spoon into the bowl before he roughly puts it on the table.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Jungkook’s brows scrunch, he looks so mad, so affected by your name.

“You wanna know something, Kook? ___ once told me she could never come to your match because she didn’t want to see you get beaten up. But look at you now,” Taehyung’s face is unreadable.

Jimin slowly raise his hand to stop Taehyung but the latter man continued, “You got beaten so bad now Jungkook, not physically, but still, do you think she’ll cry seeing you like this,”

“Tae-”

“SHUT UP!” Jungkook launched himself towards Taehyung even before Jimin could grab him, he landed a fistful punch on Taehyung’s cheek. His other hand is grabbing the collar of Taehyung’s shirt.

“____ would be sad, just like that night,” Taehyung scoffed with a broken look on his face. His eyes are watery, feeling the sting on his cheek and his heart.

Taehyung is sad for the two of you. He knows mentioning your name to Jungkook will only rile him up. But Taehyung doesn’t want to lose Jungkook like this.

“Tae, stop.” Jimin pleaded. He is still trying to pull Jungkook off Taehyung with Coach Kim.

“Kook, come on. Let him go.” Coach Kim coaxed him.

“Shut up!” Tears are brimming in Jungkook’s eyes. Of course he remembers that night. He let Taehyung go before he flopped down on the floor. Bringing his knees close to his chest. Covering his face with his hands.

“Japan?”

You raised an eyebrow before you got up from his hold to fetch a bowl of ice cream from the kitchen. He was just mindlessly playing with your hair while the two of you catching up the latest episode of Demon Slayer (his request).

It was an usual weekend night where he stayed with you, cuddling, enjoying each other’s company. As he was getting lost in the smell of your shampoo, sighing happily for having you in his arms, he blurted out about Japan.

“Yea Japan. One of BigHit Mixed Martial Arts Gym is there.” He stares at your delicate figure, wearing his oversized shirt and a short with a bowl of ice cream. Smacking his lips at you, you look so cozy and he is just, in love with you.

It feels like yesterday when he confessed to you and you let him woo you.

“That’s so sudden,” your voice sounds unsure and tiny. Slotting yourself in between his legs, Jungkook immediately wrapped his big arms around you, while covering himself with the blanket.

“I know. It’s not official yet as I haven’t given them any say. I’m not sure if I wanted to go or not. For now,” he mumbles. Another habit of his. He is usually a very outgoing boy but when he is unsure he tends to hide, making himself look smaller by crouching or when he sits he wraps his arms around his bended knees.

Now, having you in between his legs, he settles with hiding behind your neck. He feels a lot calmer feeling your skin close to his chest.

He avoided coming home after a match because he looks terrible but he always found himself nuzzling your chest with his hand under your shirt. Your skin, it’s like a safe warm blanket for him.

“Do you want to go?” You hesitantly asked. Eyes still on the screen but Jungkook cannot be sure where your mind is at.

“I mean, I’ve been aiming for Japan ever since I started taking this seriously. Again, like I said, I’m not sure,” he stressed on the last part. Blinking at you. Why are you not looking at him? Are you upset?

Your hand that isn’t holding the bowl grabbed one of his. Your thumb caressing his skin softly yet your eyes still not looking at him.

“I think it’s best for you to go, right?” You said. Tilting your head and it allowed him to lay his head on your shoulder. He shower you skin with kisses and it makes you let out a breathy laugh.

“Yeah?” His voice sounds tiny as he is still searching for your eyes.

“Yeah Jungkook, chase your dream,” this time your eyes are downcast. Thumb rubbing unknown patterns on his skins. He didn’t say another word. Giving up in making you look at him.

He doesn’t feel right.

Were you upset hearing about Japan? He told you, he, himself is still not sure whether he wanted to go there or not. What he wanted, for now is to be with you. If, let’s say, if he were recruited to Japan, he is thinking of bringing you along.

Truthfully he cannot think of being in a long distance relationship with you. He shudders just thinking about that. He knows long distance relationships are very rare to work out. And he is going to be super busy with matches and practice. Thus which is why he wanted you to come along.

He will try his best to support you, but you're a woman with your own career. He is biting inner cheeks, because he doesn’t know how to break the question to you.

“I feel like I’m a bad influence.” You break the short silence. Jungkook’s mind is still racing with thoughts so he managed to reply to you with a questioned hum.

You tap on the bowl with your fingernails, making clicking sounds with your tongue as well.

“Stop, you always said that yet you still spoon fed me,” he groans. Wiggling his peeking toes from the end of your blanket. Trying to distract his mind for a while.

Spend the night, he thought. And maybe ask you after next week’s match.

“You always ended up eating something sweet. What about your meal plan? Gain weight class plan?” Your toes are cold against his hard calf. Spoon clicking inside the large bowl of ice cream. It’s silly.

Silly, because it was pouring heavily outside, just after the dinner and here you are eating ice cream together. As if it’s not cold enough.

“Kookie,” you called for him realizing he zoned out. That nickname seems to pull him back to you, making him scoff in disbelief.

“Stop calling me that,” he chuckled before pinching your side.

You giggle. Ever since you heard Daehwi called him Kookie hyung, you’ve been calling him the same nickname too.

“Kookie,” you pouted. Jungkook is scrunching his eyes, pretending that your acting cute is doing nothing to him. But oh he can never pretend that he is unaffected by you.

Jungkook playfully clenched his teeth as his legs pulled the blanket away from your legs. You flinch at the sudden feel of cold air.

“Hey!” You screech.

“Serve your right,” he tucked the rest of the blanket securely under his laps, making it impossible for you to have it back.

“I’m cold,” you shudder. That’s all it took for him to give in and pulled your legs across his lap. Running his hands up and down to warm them up before he covers the two of you under the fluffy blanket.

He feels warm and you’re safely in his arms. Yeah, he will properly ask you to come with him to Japan. As soon as possible.

You feel like your breath is taken away after you received the phone call. Your body slumped over the chair. Mind a little fuzzy and fortunately it was recess time, you were in the Teacher's Lounge when your phone vibrates. It was Taehyung. He said JImin got your new number from Daehwi’s mom and Jungkook has no idea about the call.

He asked you simple things people asked, like when they had not seen each other for some time. Polite and precise.

‘How are you?’, ‘I hope I’m not bothering you, is it okay I’m calling you now?’. You know Taehyung, he wouldn’t suddenly call you just because he wanted to know about the weather or what not, whether you have eaten yet or not.

So you went straight at him.

“Is Jungkook okay?” You wanna despise him but you can’t. After all these months of crying and in pain. All of the scripted anger in your head, prepared to be bombarded at Jungkook once he called you, disappears into the thin air.

Instead of replying, he talked about Jungkook’s loss. You knew, of course you’ve been keeping track of him, how can you not? When he is all over the place. The television, social media, the whole nation is talking about him. Your heart aches even more.

Jungkook has always been so hard on himself, especially when he loses a match. You have been thinking how he’s been coping up so far.

And then Taehyung asked you for a favor. That is what puts you in your position right now.

“Can you come to Japan?” Taehyung asked you. He sounded defeated and with the heavy sighs you concluded that Jungkook’s loss is affecting them all.

“For him. I know whatever that had happened was bad. But, he’s not being himself and we don’t know what to do anymore,” Taehyung continued. “He won’t fight, he has been so aloof and won’t respond to us. Please ____. He needs you,”

Shutting your eyes tight as you pinched the bridge of your nose, the tears are welling up in your eyes and you don’t wanna cry anymore. But your heart aches thinking about seeing him again in Japan and when that’s the place that makes everything go down in between you two.

You and Jungkook were in a relationship of one year at that time. Like any normal couples, there’s banter and bickering, fights and also make ups. You and him always make up after a fight.

Jungkook would never rest well knowing the two of you didn’t sit down and talked the frustration out. He is a very level headed guy, though sometimes he seems a little childish but to you that’s what makes him, him. But Jungkook has always been the one who apologizes first. Your soft Jungkook.

But that wasn’t your Jungkook that night.

The night he told you about Japan again, only this time he uttered out his desire of having you there with him. You didn’t know what triggered you at that time but for some reason you chickened out.

The sudden request from Jungkook throws you into the abyss of thought. You’re thinking about your teaching, leaving your parents, friends, building a life in Japan?

These thoughts terrify you. Jungkook said he’d be in Japan for a few years. This is why he needed you there as well. You think that’s selfish. Jungkook will spend his time practicing, and fighting. What about you? You don’t even know Japanese.

So you said no, a hesitated no, because amidst the scary thoughts, of course you wanted to be by his side. Maybe you’re feeling a little tired that day, so you just pushed him away. Or maybe it was the way he asked you. Like he demanded you to be by his side. You told him no, you cannot do that. He got frustrated. And it was the first time he’s frustrated with you.

“You never support my dream,” were the words he spat at you. It feels like venom flowing in your ears to your heart. How could he say that?

What he didn’t know was you went to his match for the first time. He was so blacked out. Didn’t notice a thing while his chest heaving rapidly like a fish being left out on the dry land. You were a crying mess by his side. Trying to call out for him but he was laying there wheezing out his breath like he’s dying. His face was covered in bruises, busted lips and sweats drenching him from head to toe. Till this day, you flinched every time you heard a bell sound. It reminds you of the time they rang the bell in the arena because Jungkook was so fucked. The match had to be stopped. Taehyung pulled you to the side though you refused, still grasping on Jungkook. You were there and you thought he was going to die!

Jungkook was admitted to the hospital. Broken ribs, punctured lungs, fractures on his right elbow, they had to put metal rods in his ankles. His pretty long fingers - the fingers that glided through your thighs, warming you up at night - they’re broken and the some ligaments are torn.

Coach Kim comforted you at the hospital bench, telling you Jungkook will undergo a surgery to reattach the ligaments.

Jungkook hasn’t woken up for two days.

You have been sitting by his side, only switching places with Taehyung and Jimin as the two coaxed you to take a shower and eat something. You remember crying in front of Taehyung as he makes you instant ramen. Taehyung was so worried about you.

Telling you the harsh truth that these kinds of injuries are common. What were you supposed to feel at that time? You were worried sick for Jungkook and you’re gonna push through that everyday and wish he comes home in one piece after a match? This is hard for you.

So you told Taehyung you’d never do this again.

Yet how dare Jungkook said you never want to watch him fight, never support his dream.

After he said those words, he rushed out of the house in anger. He slammed the door and you refused to call him back. He went out and you let him.

It was past three in the morning and you can’t sleep. Because you’re waiting. Waiting for that silly guilty smile apologizing at your door. Waiting for the buffy boy crawling to your chest as he mumbled out how sorry he was and how much he loves you. You were practicing your version of apologize because you realized you were harsh on him too.

You realized you were not being a supportive girlfriend. Jungkook might feel nervous before he asked you and you just pushed him away. Of course he was frustrated. You waited and the bed was cold that night.

You were holding your phone, expecting him to call you or anything but when it was vibrating, it was Taehyung.

He told you that he’s going to bail Jungkook out from the police station. All you can heard was 'Jungkook, got into a fight, he beat the fuck out of a man, someone called the police because they were loud, he got locked up' and he called Taehyung for help.

Your stomach dropped. You rushed to get your hoodie and changed your shorts into some decent pants, your hair was a mess and you rush yourself to the police station.

Jungkook was already outside of the police station the moment you arrived. His head was hanging low and Taehyung just sat on the stairs. Looking lethargic because who the heck looks good at this goddamn hour?

You didn’t say a word as you run to the them, you shoved Jungkook on his shoulder. Pushing him hard because you were so mad at him. Why did he go around and beat people now?

“What the fuck Jungkook?!” You seethed at him. Still pushing him. Jungkook kept his mouth shut tight. He didn’t even budge, not even when you banged your fist on his chest. You know Jungkook is a strong boy and your little fists can do nothing to him, but you wanted to hurt him so bad.

Make him feel what you’re feeling at that time. You heard him sniffed but you didn’t stop pushing him. You didn’t even realize your face was so flushed and wet with tears.

“How fucking worried I am!” You shouted at him with a sobbed and you started panting. Jungkook can sense that you’re about to have a panic attack. Taehyung got up to settle the two of you but he didn’t think it was right for him to intervene.

“Babe,” Jungkook grasped your wrists, wanting to calm you down.

“No!” You pulled your hands from him harshly, pointing a finger at him.

You take a good look at his face before you breathed out. “Go.”

The single word was like a hard punch in his gut. “What do you mean?” he knew but he still asked, there’s no way you’re doing this to him.

“You wanna go to Japan, right? Then, just go,” you wiped your face with the sleeves of your hoodie. Your eyes downcast because you cannot look at him. Not when his face was so broken, the sounds of his pleads and sorry’s.

At that time you think it was the only way.

Taehyung is restless. Jungkook’s second fight with McGregor is in the next hour and he is still at the airport. In the end Jungkook agreed for the second match. Everyone is worried for his state but Jungkook said he just wants to get this over with.

Doesn’t matter if he lost again. He said he wanted a break for a while after this one. That was his only request. Right now Taehyung hopes Jimin can somehow distract Jungkook from noticing that he is gone.

Your flight was delayed for half an hour and Taehyung is agitating in his seat. The moment he saw you walked out the arrival gate, he rushed to help you but stopped himself after seeing you only carrying a backpack.

He didn’t comment on that as he make small talks with you, walking to the car. He briefed you about the match, preparing you for what you were about to see. Taehyung knows you were still traumatized and he selfishly feels happy for Jungkook. Though you’re scared and your legs are bouncing, you are willing to come today.

You cast your eyes to the outside views, the car drove past a hectic pedestrian street. You’ve never been to Japan. You were a little fascinated and for a moment you’re thinking of Jungkook enjoying the city.

You missed Jungkook, so much, but seeing him for the first time since the breakup and seeing him at the fighting pit is so nerve wrecking. You’re not sure how you’re going to react.

“The arena is pretty big. There will be a lot of people. But stay close to me, okay?” Taehyung’s voice breaks your thought.

“Okay,” you anxiously rub your thumbs together.

“It is scary, but he will be fine,” Taehyung softly said.

“I know,”

Taehyung let out a curse as the two of you entered the arena. Your eyes darted to the center of the arena, the octagon. You can see the ring girl is holding up number 4 as she walks like a sly fox around the stage.

You can see why Taehyung cursed because you missed almost half of the fight. The crowds are still pumped up with loud cheers and booed. Some of them stood up and started chanting names. You can catch Jungkook and other names as well.

It’s scary and you can feel your heart beating twice harder than normal the moment you drove out of the airport. You can’t see the octagon clearly as Taehyung pushed through the crowd, holding your hand. He brings you close to the team.

Sitting at the front seat.

Your breath stopped when you heard a grunt and you snapped your head up to see Jungkook swing his left arm at the opponent. Hard. You flinched backward, trying to get away. Your mind is telling you to turn around but your eyes still bore on Jeon Jungkook.

He is already injured with blood stains on his brows. You frown at the view. Suddenly feel your heart clenched. Taehyung left you at the seat as he ran to his dad. You can hear him from where you stand.

You cannot sit down because all the adrenaline rush you’re feeling in your body is making your heart beats wild. This is just like the first time you went to his match.

The loud noise, the lights, the screaming from the commentator. But this time, weirdly enough, you feel relieved. Jungkook is up there, and you’re looking at him in his glory. Despite what Taehyung told you, he looks like he is really trying to win.

And you were glad. This is his dream. He gotta win. Of course he will win.

Another uppercut jab from Jungkook on his opponent’s face.

“How’s the first half?” Taehyung asked his dad and Jimin.

“Hard! Kook beat that guy real hard. Kook is really fighting this time.” Jimin smiles at Taehyung, he lets out a shaky laugh.

“He is fighting, Tae! Does he know ____ will be here? Where is she?” Jimin looks for you in the crowd before Taehyung pointed at you. He is calling you to come even closer. And now you’re literally a few steps away from the octagon.

Jimin noticed how your eyes are wide, watching Jungkook head lock the other man on the mat and the way you’re clasping your hands like you’re praying for Jungkook. The referee pounded his fist on the mat, and the bell indicates that the five minutes of the fourth round is over.

Jungkook spits out his mouth guard as he walks to the corner of the octagon, where everyone is ready to assist him. Coach Kim jumps up to give him a bottle of water for him to gurgle out the blood in his mouth, instantly checking up the injury on his face. Coach Kim frantically explained the next move to Jungkook, guiding him for the last round but Jungkook shakes his head. Mumbling that he is tired. Jimin softly grabs his head so he can sit straight, otherwise Jungkook might collapse. Taehyung wipes the sweat on his chest, avoiding the red spot on his ribs.

You watched the whole scene with a dry mouth and you were blinking away your tears. Like a lost child you stood still by the barriers not knowing what is your purpose to be here.

You heard Jimin and Taehyung calling out Jungkook, lightly tapping his cheeks and you gasp as you can see Jungkook fluttering his eyes rapidly.

Following your instinct you climbed up the octagon standing shakily behind him. With only the tall steel cage separating you and him, you managed to fit a few of your fingers through it. Not even a whole hand but at that point, that is enough to touch him. Your cold fingers against his hot and sweaty temple. It’s crazy how a simple touch can make you so happy.

“Jungkook? Jungkookie? Kookie,” a sob wrecking through your body when you call his name as clearly as you can. You need him to hear you.

Jungkook snaps his head, turning around to look at the source of the voice. It’s you and he swears that everything inside the arena just turned into a blurred backdrop. His focus is on you alone.

“____,” he choked out your name, letting your fingers softly touch his cheeks. His long locks dangle on his forehead, wet with sweat and yet he can see you as clear as the first time you walked into him choking on fried eggs.

“You’re here. You’re really here,” he breathed. Closing his eyes as he leans on your cooling touch.

“I’m here. I’ll wait here, but you gotta promise me. Don’t let that guy beat you up. You got me?” You grew frustrated with the cage. Jungkook notices that and his face seems to show the same feeling as yours. He brings himself closer to you and lets his forehead touch yours.

“I promise, stay okay? I need you. I will end this fight, and we talked okay. I need you,” Jungkook chanted and without knowing, your face is flushed with tears. Jungkook hushed you softly as the ring announcer’s voice booming loud, calling the fighters for the championship round.

Coach Kim, Taehyung and Jimin look at Jungkook. They could see the glint in his eyes and they knew Jungkook would beat the shit out of his opponent.

Each round is five minutes long, give or take. It will end sooner if one of the fighters is completely knocked out, or when they tapped out. A sign of giving in. To some, five minutes is so short, it’s like a length of a song or two. Five minutes is relatively short.

But in UFC or MMA matches, five minutes can feel like an eternity. Jungkook once told you that in that five minutes, imagine yourself running so fast while dragging tons of weight. Plus, you have to be very agile and precise with your attacks so that you won’t be wasting energy on just yielding.

To other eyes, the crowd, the commentators, five minutes pass by as quickly as a lightning. Jabs, round kicks, or overhand are very swift moves. A blink and you might have missed it. But to the eyes of the team, the coaches, and the fighter. It’s a slow-motion moment.

They can calculate the next move, figure out the weak points and you can see that too. As an outsider of the MMA world, you can see Jungkook moves in slow-mo as his legs do a sharp snapping motion.

It’s a powerful strike and the sound, it’s like the other guy is getting hit with a baseball bat. Unlike the first time you watched him fight, this time you can see Jungkook in his beautiful glory. And that makes you wipe your eyes furiously. How can you leave him like that?

The other guy is already weakened but Jungkook didn’t falter. This time he trips the opponent by pushing the upper body while taking one of his legs, making him lose his balance and fall immediately with a loud thud.

“Watch carefully, ____. This is Jungkook’s signature move!” Jimin shouted excitedly to you because the crowd erupted in thunderous cheers as Jungkook executed his moves and the commentators shouted at each other. Telling everyone what Jungkook had done.

Jimin has been eyeing you since the first second Jungkook got up. He can see the awe in your teary wide eyes. Jimin shakes his head, chuckling at you who only turned your body at him but your face is zeroed on Jungkook. He’s not sure you heard him or not but he thinks you did. So he keeps explaining Jungkook’s next move to you.

“This is what we called Jungkook’s Overhead Slams. See how Kook is closing the gap on that guy with his arms hooked tightly under his knees and look! Look! Kook lifted him up!” You watched with your breath stuck in your throat. Jungkook was so fast and it happens so quick! Jimin is already jumping with his fist in the air.

Shouting “Slam! Slam! Slam!” with Taehyung and Coach Kim. Everyone in his team is already cheering.

“This is when he will slam his opponent! McGregor won’t stand a chance! And he slams!” Jimin screamed with you as the loud fall on the mat echoed and in a milliseconds the crowd turned quiet and suddenly the arena was shaking with how loud everyone was screaming.

The referee runs to stop Jungkook from punching the guy who was laid motionless on the mat. The referee announced that it is a total knockout because the guy is completely incapable of standing up.

Jungkook won!

He fell on his knees, gasping for air but he turned his head to look for a certain someone in the crowd. The frantic coach and his team members are calling for him and yet all he can see is your small figure in the sea of people. Your glowing features amongst the flashlight. He got up and jumped over the tall cage to you. Landed on his sore feet but it’s you that’s waiting down there. He doesn’t care about the feet.

You wanna say something. Something like congratulations or good job or whatever but can seem to find your voice. Bet you looked like a clown with a gaping mouth and blurry eyes because of the tears. He beats you first by engulfing you in a hug. Landing his head on your shoulder, pulling you closer to him. Jungkook was over the moon when you hugged him back.

“You won,” it comes out like a whisper to him.

Jungkook can’t even reply because he feels so overwhelmed. To him it was the first time you saw him fight and won (and wide awake unlike that time when he blacked out). With a frowning lips he lets himself cry. Be damned to all the journalists taking photos of him crying.

The two of you become the centre of attention as the cameras are showing you on the big screen and the photographers swarm up making a circle, taking photos. All you can feel, see and hear is Jeon Jungkook.

“Oh no,” you pouted at his frowning look, wiping his tears away. He will always be your baby. “I’m sorry,”

He shakes his head, cupping your cheeks and he kisses you. All of those days away from him makes the kiss more emotional, it was soft like and gentle. You are aware of his split lips but Jungkook dives in and he didn’t even flinch. Soon the kiss turns needy as he licks your lower lips and the ring announcer laughs. His voice abruptly pulls you apart. You were a blushing mess but Jungkook just groaned annoyingly.

“The winner, come claim your winning belt first. Let me announce you and then go back to your girl,” the ring announcer teased.

“Stay, stay. Okay.” He said and you knew it wasn’t just staying in the arena after he got his belt. It sounds like he wanted you to stay for a long time. This time you’re not freaking out, you nod.

Giving him a reassuring smile. Ushering him back to the octagon and you can see he bounces with happiness as the referee raises up his hand and the ring announcer screams his name. The two of you will work it out, everything will get better again but for this moment, you’ll stay.

“I need you,” Jungkook mouthed at you.

“I’ll stay,” you blew him an air kiss.

#bts #bts jungkook #bts x reader #jungkook #bts fanfic

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vanteguccir · 8 months ago

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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤSAILOR SONG * MATT STURNIOLO

SUMMARY　::　where Y/N and Matt have a comfy indoor date; baking together.

FEATURING　Matt Sturniolo x reader　REQUESTED?　yes.

WARNINGS　::　making out.

AUTHOR'S NOTE　::　that is my work, I DON'T authorize any form of plagiarism; copy, "inspiration" or translation! | english isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

'I saw her in the rightest way'

The kitchen was an absolute mess, a delightful, chaotic swirl of ingredients strewn across the counters, flour dusting the air, and the aroma of vanilla mixing with the sound of their favorite playlist softly drifting in from the living room. The afternoon light streamed through the windows, casting a warm glow over the scene as Y/N stood at the counter, carefully measuring flour into a white-ish ceramic bowl. Beside her, Matt was leaning against the counter, his eyes fixed solely on her, watching her with an intensity that could have melted chocolate.

"Okay, so you just, like, throw the flour in, right?" Matt asked, breaking the comfortable silence, reaching for the open bag with the kind of reckless enthusiasm that spelled disaster.

Y/N’s eyes widened, her hands instinctively darting forward to stop him.

"Wait, wait- Matt, no!" But it was too late. A poof of flour erupted like a mini explosion, covering both of them in a soft, powdery cloud.

Matt froze, blinking through the haze, and then burst into laughter, his shoulders shaking.

"Oops." He said with that boyish grin of his, the one that made Y/N’s heart do a little flip every time.

She tried to glare at him but failed miserably, laughter bubbling up as she brushed flour off her cheek.

"You’re such a mess." She teased, shaking her head, her eyes sparkling.

"And yet, here you are teaching me." He shot back, eyes crinkling at the corners. "Guess that says something about you, huh?"

"Yeah." She said with a mock exasperated sigh. "That I’m a hopeless romantic who thinks you can actually learn how to bake."

Matt just grinned, leaning in to steal a quick kiss on her flour-dusted nose, making her scrunch it up adorably in response.

"Alright, lover boy." Y/N said, shaking her head with a smile. "Let’s try not to blow up the kitchen, okay? I need you to grab the sugar next."

"Yes, ma’am." Matt replied, snapping a playful salute before turning to rummage through the cupboard. He managed to grab the sugar jar without spilling anything this time - progress, she thought with a fond smile.

They continued to work side by side, the kitchen filled with the sweet scent of vanilla and sugar. Y/N would occasionally reach out to correct Matt’s technique, her touch light but effective. Every time their hands brushed, Matt would flash her that lopsided grin that always made her cheeks warm. She tried to stay focused, but with him being so close, so effortlessly charming, it was a losing battle.

At some point, they both reached for the vanilla extract at the same time. Their fingers tangled, and Matt shot her a playful look.

"Hey, who’s the baker here?" Y/N teased, nudging him aside with her hip, her laughter light and teasing.

"I don’t know, I don't see them anywhere." He joked, pretending to search around the room, making her roll her eyes though the grin on her lips was impossible to hide.

They kept mixing and measuring, Matt’s enthusiasm both endearing and chaotic. Just when everything seemed to be going smoothly, he made his biggest blunder yet. He grabbed the baking soda and dumped a generous amount into the bowl, not bothering with a measuring spoon.

"Matt, no!" Y/N gasped, her eyes wide with horror. "That’s way too much! You’re going to ruin the batter!"

Matt looked from the bowl to her, then back at the bowl, his eyes comically wide. But instead of panicking, he simply shrugged and started laughing, his laughter so infectious that Y/N’s frustration began to dissolve.

"Matt, I’m serious." She groaned, burying her face in her hands. "This was supposed to be perfect, and now they’re going to taste like-"

"Hey, hey." Matt said softly, reaching out to gently pull her hands away from her face. "Come here, sweetheart. I'm sorry, yeah?"

Before she could protest, he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her into his warm embrace. Y/N sighed, trying to hold onto her annoyance, but the way he was looking at her - with that soft, adoring gaze - made it nearly impossible.

As if the universe was observing them closely, te next song on the queue started playing, and when Matt realized that it was one of their favorite - Sailor Song by Gigi Perez, obviously - his body started swaying gently, bringing her with him.

"What are you doing?" She asked, trying not to smile, her voice softening as her hands found home against his biceps.

"Distracting you." He said, his lips brushing the shell of her ear. "Is it working?"

Y/N tried to stay annoyed, but the tenderness in his eyes melted her defenses.

"You are so ridiculous." She said, but her words were softened by the smile that tugged at her lips.

"Ridiculously in love with you." He murmured, resting his forehead against hers. "Can you forgive me?"

Y/N’s heart fluttered, and she let out a soft, defeated sigh, leaning into him fully.

"Fine." She whispered, her voice barely audible over the music. "But you’re still fixing the batter."

"Deal." He said with a grin. And before she could pull away, he spun her around in a quick twirl, eliciting a surprised, joyful laugh from her, her apron flowing around her body.

As she came back into his arms, breathless and giddy, her eyes met blue soft ones, shaking her head.

"You really are something else, Mr. Sturniolo."

"And you love me for it." He replied, leaning in to press a soft kiss to her forehead. He lingered there, breathing in the sweet scent of her hair, the warmth of her against him.

"Yeah." She said, her voice barely more than a whisper. "I really do."

With the playful moment fading into a comfortable silence, they returned to the counter, side by side once more. Y/N sighed dramatically, surveying the batter that was now slightly too foamy from Matt’s over-enthusiastic addition of baking soda.

"Okay, let’s see if we can salvage this." She said, her voice taking on that determined tone Matt found so adorable.

"How bad did I mess it up?" He asked, a wince escaping his lips.

"Not too bad." Y/N admitted with a small, fond smile. "We can balance it out with a little extra flour and sugar."

"Got it." Matt said, nodding eagerly as he grabbed the bag of flour, waiting for her instructions.

They worked together to fix the batter, Matt actually listening this time, his focus unwavering as Y/N explained what to do. After a few minutes of adjustments, Y/N dipped her finger into the batter for a taste test. Her eyes lit up in pleasant surprise.

"Hey, it’s actually good!" She exclaimed.

Matt’s face broke into a proud grin.

"See? I knew I could fix it." He said smugly.

"Mm-hmm." Y/N hummed, rolling her eyes playfully. "Pretty sure I did most of the fixing."

"But it was my idea to fix it." He countered, leaning in to press his lips against her warm cheek.

"Alright, let’s get these in the oven before you mess up anything else." Y/N said, lifting the tray carefully.

Her fingers were nimble as she adjusted the rack, carefully placing the cupcake tray into the preheated oven.

Matt couldn’t help but stop for a bit and just stare, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed, his eyes never leaving her. There was something about watching her work, so effortlessly absorbed in what she loved, that made him feel as though the entire world had slowed to a gentle stop just for them.

It wasn't his fault. He reasoned to himself. It wasn't his fault he found everything she did so endlessly endearing, so worth watching with that starstruck gaze that his brothers teased him about. The way her brows furrowed in concentration, her fingers dusted with flour, her lips pursed slightly as she adjusted the oven dial; it all made his heart swell.

Y/N stood up, wiping her hands on her yellow apron and closing the oven door with a soft clink. She turned to grab the timer, only to notice the way Matt was staring at her, eyes sparkling with that familiar, dazed expression. He looked as if he were lost in a dream, his gaze so soft it made her heart skip a beat.

Feeling the heat rise in her cheeks, she tilted her head slightly and smiled shyly.

"What?" She asked with a soft laugh, setting the timer up. "Do I still have flour on my face?"

Matt didn’t answer right away, his eyes never wavering from hers. It was like he was in some kind of trance, completely mesmerized. After a few seconds, he finally blinked, his lips curling into a soft smile.

"Yeah." He said simply, his voice so low and gentle it made her stomach flip.

Before she could ask where, Matt stepped forward, closing the distance between them in a few strides. His hands found her waist, pulling her close. Y/N’s breath hitched, her eyes widening slightly as he leaned in, his breath warm against her skin.

"Right here." He dipped his head and began to trail soft, lingering kisses along her jaw. His lips brushed tenderly against her skin, and with each kiss, he pulled a soft, breathless giggle from her lips. The sweet sound made him smile against her cheek, his eyes closing as he continued his path to her chin, and then to her cheeks, where he left playful kisses that were so light, they were almost ticklish.

"Matt." She breathed out, half-laughing, half-sighing, her hands coming up to rest on his chest. Her fingers traced slow circles over his shirt, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath the fabric.

He paused, hovering just above her lips, so close that she could feel the ghost of his breath on her mouth but not quite touching her. His eyes were locked on hers, and there was a playfulness mixed with adoration in them that made her knees feel weak. He knew exactly what he was doing, teasing her like this.

"Matt." She repeated, her voice a whisper now, filled with a hint of impatience.

"Yeah?" He murmured back, the corners of his lips twitching upwards.

Y/N narrowed her eyes at him, her lips twitching as she tried to suppress a smile.

"Kiss me properly." She demanded, her voice barely above a whisper.

'Oh, won't you kiss me on the mouth and love me like a sailor?'

He chuckled softly, his eyes never leaving hers as he leaned in just a fraction more, brushing his lips against hers, still not quite giving in. But Y/N, never one to be outdone, closed the remaining distance, pressing her lips to his in a soft, sweet kiss that sent warmth blooming through her chest.

Matt’s arms tightened around her waist, pulling her even closer as their kiss deepened, slow and unhurried, like they had all the time in the world. Y/N’s hands wandered from his chest to his biceps, squeezing slightly at the firmness there, before sliding up to his shoulders and finally into his hair. She tugged gently, earning a soft sigh from him that she could feel warming up her face.

Their lips curved into smiles as they kissed, each touch and movement so full of affection it made Y/N’s heart feel light. Matt blindly started to sway their bodies again, following the slow rhythm of the indie song, his hands exploring the small of her back, fingers spreading wide as if he wanted to memorize every curve.

Y/N sighed into his mouth, her fingers threading through his hair, and for a moment, it was just the two of them, no kitchen, no baking, just the soft, sweet connection between their lips and the feel of each other’s warmth.

But the intimate moment was abruptly interrupted by a sudden, loud DING! from the oven.

The sound made Y/N jump slightly, pulling away from Matt with a startled gasp. Matt couldn’t help but laugh, the joyous sound filling the kitchen as he pressed one last, playful kiss to the tip of her nose.

"Guess that’s our cue." He said, still chuckling as he gave her a quick eskimo kiss, their noses brushing together.

Y/N laughed, shaking her head as she gently pushed him away.

"Goofball." She muttered affectionately, her cheeks still flushed.

Reluctantly pulling away, Matt released her from his embrace, giving her one last, lingering look before letting her turn her attention back to the oven. Y/N leaned down to peer through the glass, her hands resting on her knees as she checked the cupcakes.

Matt watched her from behind, unable to resist the fond smile that tugged at his lips. The sight of her brows knitting together as she inspected their work made his heart swell.

"They look perfect." Y/N announced, turning back to him with a triumphant smile.

"All thanks to you." Matt came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his chin on her shoulder. "I love baking with you." He whispered, his voice soft and sincere.

"Even if you’re terrible at it?" She teased.

"Especially because I’m terrible at it." He replied, pressing a kiss to her cheek. "Gives you more reasons to stick around."

'And we can run away to the walls inside your house'

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jakesimfromstatefarm · 3 months ago

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an idea if u do decide to take rqs: foods enha would cook/bake u as their significant other

but u can always delete this :P

ahhh i love cute lil domestic prompts like this oneee,,,sorry it took me a while to get to this anon! here are lil blurbs of meals enha would cook for you hehe (only the hyung line though because i have insane writer's block rn) here's a lil something something before the next part of the no doubt series!

& side note: to all u fine line enthusiasts, the heeseung one is for you ;)

THE BOYFRIEND CHEF DIARIES ─ hyung line ⭑.ᐟ

HEESEUNG doesn't know how to cook until after midnight. until it's quiet, the both of you probably half asleep, curled up on the couch and watching some rom-com that you forced him to watch with you (but he definitely still cried). until your stomach growls at the end of the movie and he slowly turns to you and gives you the look. you sigh. "hee, it's late, let's just go to be—" "baby, are you ready for gourmet?" yup, he's a lost cause. he disappears into the kitchen for a solid ten minutes and when he comes out, messy hair, wide grin and all—there in his hands: instant spicy ramyeon. he proudly places it on the coffee table in front of you before sprinting back into the kitchen and running back with the finishing touch: a slice of cheese. "amazing. beautiful. a masterpiece," he whispers to himself. you roll your eyes at your dramatic boyfriend. you regret buying him the pack of ramen to stock up at home. "okay, open up," he holds the bowl up under your chin with the chopsticks dangling in front of you, his eyes watching you intently. and when you finish, at the expense of your own tastebuds dying from spice, he runs back into the kitchen and makes you cool down with, of course, a single box of—coffee milk.

JAY only exists to spoil you. that's it. that's his sole purpose on this earth. so when you say you're hungry? oh, he's not cooking you a meal, no. he writes a cookbook for you. buried somewhere in one of the shelves of your shared kitchen—he has a notebook. a sacred notebook where he's literally documented the recipe to every meal you've ever liked—whether homemade, or meals from restaurants that he would attempt to recreate for you when it's too late at night for him to order in for you. so when you mutter you're hungry—he gasps and runs to grab it. "okay baby, what are we feeling tonight?" he's flipping through the pages like a man possessed. "do you want the stew from that place we went to last week? we should have all the ingredients. i'll sub the radish with potato." flip. "oh! what about the grilled chicken from our trip last year? i think i perfected the sauce, trust me." flip. "wait. no. no no—this is it. i'll make your favorite stea—" "jay." he freezes. his hand is mid-page-turn. you raise an eyebrow, amused at your endearing psychopath of a boyfriend. "i just wanted a snack." jay grins. "perfect. i'll start the grill, you grab the steak." sigh.

JAKE tries to surprise you with pancakes. not in a sweet breakfast-in-bed, 'good morning, my love' kind of way. no. he wakes you up at 2:43AM because he got hungry and missed you. "jake," you mumble, eyes still closed. "i've been here. the whole time." "i know," he whispers dramatically, already half-laying across your body, "but i still missed you." "...we're literally touching." "doesn't count. you have to be awake," he sighs, before releasing a storm of desperate kisses all over your face. "please, please, please come to the kitchen or i will cry. from starvation. and love." and so here you are—sitting on the counter, legs dangling, watching this menace of your boyfriend mix banana milk into his pancake batter, claiming he saw it once on tiktok and now must try it. a couple minutes—and a few stolen kisses from the counter later—and they're slightly undercooked. and shaped like questionable blobs in his attempt to make them heart-shaped. and he calls them 'jake-cakes.' but he tops it off with some strawberries and whipped cream and mumbles something about presentation being overrated anyways. then he places the plate beside you with a grin, slipping between your legs and feeding you a bite like it's a wedding cake moment. you chew slowly. it's raw. he looks at you like you hung the stars. so you smile anyways. it's the thought that counts.

SUNGHOON has never touched a kitchen utensil in his entire life. but it's late at night, and you're craving pasta. pasta. so, one frantic google search on how to boil water and one very questionable hour later—"wait," you smack your lips together, chewing the noodles he proudly presented in front of you as if he was a master chef himself. "it's...really good, hoon." his eyes go wide. "REALLY?" you nod, fighting back a smile. "yeah, seriously. i'm impressed." he blinks. "like, good good? or good-for-a-guy-who-thought-the-spatula-was-a-back-scratcher good?" you giggle. "good good, babe. i like it, good job." he throws his head back and pumps the air like a cartoon character. "I AM HIM!" he runs a victory lap around the kitchen and crashes right into you, wrapping his arms tight around your waist and lifting you up like you're his trophy for cooking one (1) decent meal. pasta sauce gets everywhere in process—but you're laughing, sweet and loud, all while sunghoon's thinking one thing: thank god he found that jar of pasta sauce in back of the pantry.

this is actually just pure crack, i apologize heh

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lacedbykami · 11 months ago

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𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐑 𝐑𝐄𝐈𝐃 𝐇𝐂𝐒 (𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.)

a/n: im back my loves! I’ve been rewatching criminal minds and omg I love how soft Spencer is he’s just adorable bro. Also JJ with bangs? (She can get it too honestly) Mentions; of sub!spencer, dry humping, cunnilingus, sweet but nasty Spence <33

isn’t the best with explaining his feelings for you not in a nerdy way but is a poet when it comes to words of affirmation; ever time Spencer sees you look so beautiful, so ethereal he just randomly pouts out a poem that can barely come close to describe the amount of love he has for you in that moment <33

I’m a strong believer in the fact that Reid has a little decor around his apartment for when Halloween rolls around; and is beyond happy when he comes home from a case to find that you’ve went a the extra mile and decorating it a bit more for him <33

Memorizes your cafe orders; so on his off days he’ll wake up before you to surprise you with a muffin and your favorite tea/coffee

is usually the big spoon in bed; however if he’s had a challenging week he’ll just silently curl into your side pressing kisses to you neck as he murmurs a “thank you love.”

whines into kisses & grinds his hips into yours while doing so; Spence is weak for you that much is certain. Your voice is as smooth as silk and your touch never fails to ignite a fire on his skin. But your kisses are pure aphrodisiac, you effortlessly pull moans from him like it’s nothing. “You’re so cute Spence, so you want me to touch you?” “Please angel.”

cannot leave without his goodbye kiss and an I love you; one time you decided to mess with him and kiss him goodbye without saying I love you. After not hearing you say it back he poked his head back in your shared bedroom and loooked at you confused. “I love you?” “Mhm, have a good day sweetheart.” Now he’s pouting, “..did I do something wrong?” Now you have to pepper his face with kisses and tell him you love him multiple times so he can leave.

whenever he’s gone for a couple days for a particular hard case he’ll send you flowers, and sends you text messages; to check the new book you’ve read. Which leads you to find a sweet love letter. Promising his safe return and that he’ll make up for lost time <33

loves baking and cooking with you; know we all know Spencer can’t cook worth a damn, so his job in the kitchen is maintaining the mess you tend to create while making brownies and ofc pressing kisses to your shoulder as you mix the batter

eats you out slowly when he’s sleepy but horny; it’s so hot but so agonizingly slow. Even the way his tongue flicks against your clit feels slow, once he hears your begs and whines he’ll speed up a bit. Slowly starting to get more into it than you are, pulling you by your thighs to get close to his tongue. Lapping up your cunt is an art form to Spence, and all art deserves to be appreciated <33

tells Garcia and Morgan about you; he intends not to rant but once he pictures your sweet smile in his head he’s a goner. Now he talking about your mannerisms and how you always cover your smile with your hand because your self conicous about it, but he finds your smile so beautiful..

when he gets jealous he pouts slightly; he manages it relatively well but the initial time a guy looks at you too long or has that look on his face, Spence does that little confused pouty thing slightly before making it clear your happily taken.

Spence is HELLA touchy; cannot go 2 minutes without touching you. In the car? Hand on your thigh, sitting on the couch together? Your thighs gotta be on his lap. One way or the other

Happily spends his money on you; spence absolutely loves spoiling you, and every anniversary he makes a habit of buying you a dress. Not overly pricey but just enough in the 200-300 range. each anniversary he goes a little bit higher and higher or if you found a dress you really like hell buy you jewelry. But once you guys hit one year? He goes all out <33

uses your lotions and shampoo on occasion; being away from you for hours on end can be tough at some times so Spencer makes a habit of buying smaller samples of your vanilla or strawberry scented products. Smell of sweet candy and cookies like helps ease his mind when he’s away at work.

Honorable mentions

princess twirl/hugs when he comes back from a long case

loves going on library dates with you

says I love you every time before doing down on you <33

#! 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ kam.writes!#spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fanfiction #spencer reid hcs #criminal minds Spencer #Spencer fluff #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer criminal minds #dr spencer reid #Spencer smut #criminal minds smut #mgg x reader

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amyzworldds · 4 months ago

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Last Part: Echoes of Exhaustion - The Spoiling

Part 1 | Part 2

Feeling guilty, Jeonghan, spoils her girlfriend—then sticks to her side all day, following her around the house. Pairing: Jeonghan x yn Genre: Fluff, clingy jeonghan

The morning sun filtered through the blinds, casting a gentle glow over the room where Jeonghan and yn lay tangled in the sheets. He woke first, the faint ache of guilt still tugging at him from the days before. He’d hurt her, snapped when she’d only wanted to help, and even though they’d started to mend things, he couldn’t shake the need to do more. Slipping out of bed as quietly as he could, he padded to the kitchen, determined to spoil her rotten today—no half-measures, just pure, unfiltered affection to make up for his mistake.

He rummaged through her pantry and fridge, pulling out everything he knew she loved. The counter soon became a chaotic workstation—flour dusted the edges as he whisked batter for fluffy pancakes, the kind she could never resist with extra maple syrup. Bacon sizzled in a pan, filling the apartment with a savory aroma, and he brewed her favorite coffee blend, the rich scent mingling with the sweetness of the pancakes. He even sliced up some strawberries he found, arranging them in a little heart on the plate because, well, why not? Humming softly to himself, he plated it all on a tray, adding a glass of orange juice and a single flower he’d plucked from a vase on her table. It was over-the-top, and he knew it, but that was the point.

Carrying the tray back to the bedroom, he nudged the door open with his hip and grinned as yn stirred, her hair a mess and her eyes blinking open in confusion. “Surprise,” he said, setting it down on her lap as she sat up, rubbing sleep from her face. The sight of the spread—pancakes stacked high, bacon crispy and golden, the coffee steaming—made her pause, a slow smile creeping across her lips.

“What’s all this?” she asked, voice still thick with sleep, though there was a teasing lilt to it. “Trying to bribe me with food now?”

“Maybe,” he admitted, sitting on the edge of the bed, watching her with a mix of nerves and hope. “Is it working?”

She laughed softly, picking up a fork and cutting into the pancakes. “We’ll see.” But the way she closed her eyes at the first bite, letting out a small hum of satisfaction, told him he was on the right track. He didn’t leave her side, hovering as she ate—refilling her juice the second it got low, brushing a crumb from her cheek with his thumb, even insisting on feeding her a strawberry despite her playful eye-roll.

“You’re ridiculous,” she mumbled around a mouthful, but the warmth in her gaze softened the words. When she finished, he whisked the tray away, only to return moments later, plopping down beside her on the bed and pulling her into his arms before she could protest.

And that was just the start. All morning, he stuck to her like a shadow. When she moved to the couch with a book, he sprawled across her lap, resting his head on her stomach and peering up at her with a grin until she gave up reading to ruffle his hair. When she went to the bathroom to brush her teeth, he followed, leaning against the doorway with a dramatic sigh. “Don’t leave me out here all alone,” he whined, earning a laugh as she flicked water at him from the sink.

“Hannie, I swear, I love you, but I have no space of my own today,” she said, turning to him with mock exasperation, toothbrush still in hand. “You’re the clingy one now.”

He stepped closer, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind and resting his chin on her shoulder, meeting her eyes in the mirror. “Good,” he said, voice low and teasing. “I owe you a little smothering. You’re stuck with me forever.”

She shook her head, but the smile tugging at her lips betrayed her amusement. “Fine, but you’re carrying my stuff later.”

“Deal,” he agreed instantly, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek before letting her finish. The clinginess didn’t stop—when she sat back on the couch, he tucked a blanket around her, fetched her water without being asked, and even started narrating his every move like a clingy puppy. “Now I’m adjusting your pillow—comfy? Good. Now I’m sitting right here, not moving an inch.”

By noon, they decided to venture out for groceries, her fridge nearly empty after his breakfast extravaganza. At the store, Jeonghan took it to another level. Pushing the cart behind her, he turned into a one-man shopping spree. Every time yn so much as glanced at something—a bag of her favorite chips, a scented candle on the shelf, even a random pack of socks—he grabbed it and tossed it in without hesitation.

“Jeonghan, you don’t even like pickled radishes,” she said, holding up a jar she’d only vaguely looked at, her brow arched in disbelief.

“Doesn’t matter,” he replied, snatching it from her hands and adding it to the growing pile. “You looked at it. It’s yours now.” He moved down the aisle, spotting a display of her favorite cookies and throwing two boxes in before she could object. When she reached for a practical item like dish soap, he intercepted, swapping it for the fancy scented kind she’d once mentioned liking. “Spoiling you means no boring stuff,” he declared, ignoring her protests.

The cart was a mess by the end—overflowing with snacks, random trinkets, and things she didn’t even need, like a plush keychain shaped like a cat because “it looks like you when you’re sleepy.” Yn couldn’t stop laughing, half-embarrassed, half-charmed as they wheeled it to the checkout, the cashier raising an eyebrow at the haul.

Back home, they stumbled through the door with bags dangling from their arms, Jeonghan insisting on carrying most of them despite her attempts to help. As they unpacked, he kept up the clinginess—standing shoulder-to-shoulder with her at the counter, sneaking bites of the snacks he’d bought, and pulling her into a hug every time she tried to step away. “You’re stuck with me,” he murmured into her hair, arms tight around her.

Finally, she turned in his grasp, hands on his chest as she looked up at him, her expression a mix of amusement and affection. “Forgiven yet?” he asked, his voice softer now, a hint of vulnerability creeping in.

She smirked, stretching up to peck his cheek. “Keep this up, and maybe.” But the way she lingered, resting her forehead against his, said more than her words. The day had been absurd, over-the-top, and exactly what they needed—his clingy, relentless love washing away the last traces of their earlier rift, leaving them tangled in laughter and each other once more.

#seventeen fluff #svt angst #seventeen x reader #jeonghan x y/n #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenario #seventeen x you #seventeen x carat #seventeen comfort #seventeen x y/n #seventeen x oc #jeonghan x you #jeonghan x reader #jeonghan x oc #seventeen jeonghan

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sojumimi · 8 days ago

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saturday mornings ───── 박성호 p.sungho

pairing: bf!sungho x female!reader

synopsis: just another Saturday morning with sungho which happens to be very fluffy

warning: this is very domestic word count: 241

ꜱᴏᴊᴜᴍɪᴍɪ : I was being delusional when I wrote this

Saturdays with him was always like this late breakfast, a bit of music, and too many opinions about waffles and pancakes. Youre in the kitchen with your sleeves rolled up, trying to get the batter just right while sungho leans against the counter with his usual mischief.

“strawberries are the best” you said as you took the waffle off of the iron

“Blueberries are healthier” he counters stealing one off your plate.

“And? their both berries!”

He raises an eyebrow “That’s why we mix them, sweet and a bit of sourness like us”

By the time breakfast is over the apartment smells like a whole berry farm and bakery. The rain outside started sometime while you were laughing over burnt pancakes

You settle on the floor surrounded by warm laundry fresh from the dryer. The two of you start folding clothes in silence until Sungho grabs your hoodie looks at it for a second then nuzzles into it

“It smells like you” he says muffled

“That’s literally because it is mine” you replied facepalming

Later the two of you were by the window his head rests in your lap as you played with his hair.

Sungho sighed ( not in a bad way guys ) “This is my favorite version of life"

And you know exactly what he means as it is the kind of love that doesn’t need grand gestures. Just a boy who makes the ordinary feel like home

likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated !

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stanart4clearskin · 3 months ago

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baker!art x reader

ever since moving to new york you struggled to find any semblance of a routine, but the one thing you could count on was your favorite bakery. it was just down the street from your apartment and you frequented it whenever you weren’t running late to work. your favorite part about it was that the moment you stepped foot into the threshold, you’d smell the fresh batch of cookies that had been whipped up or the loaf of sourdough that was in the oven. the fact the baker—and only employee—was cute was just an added bonus.

sometimes, even when you were late to work or weren’t even hungry, you’d stop off at the bakery to pick up something small just so you could see him. (you’d learned his name was art around the third time you’d come in. he said you were his first regular customer.) most days you’d buy a cookie that you could snack on throughout the work day, but if you were feeling peckish you’d buy a sandwich and a brownie.

art knew what kind of cookies you liked, how you wanted your sandwiches, and what part of the brownie was your favorite by heart. sometimes when he didn’t want to drag himself out of bed at 4 am to start prepping his various batters and doughs, he’d think of you and how disappointed you’d be without your baked goods.

about a month into you coming into the bakery consistently, art started to give you extra goodies for free. sometimes it was a new dessert recipe he was trying out or he’d just give you your entire order for free. this went on for only a few days before you started to feel guilty about it.

the bell on the door signaled your arrival to art. he looked up from the back kitchen and smiled. you smiled in return, laughing at the flour that dusted his nose and cheeks. with pink ears, art hastily rubbed at his face, removing the white powder.

he washed his hands and made his way over to you and the register. “the usual?” he asked, taking in your outfit. he noticed that you weren’t wearing your standard work outfit and donned more casual clothing instead which, was unusual for a tuesday.

“yes, but-” you began, but were swiftly cut off by art. he shook his head, “this is on the house. i insist.”

you sighed, knowing that there was no way to talk him out of this. “well, is there any way i could pay you back? anything i could do for you?”

art pondered your offer for a moment. had he thought about you asking him this question before? absolutely! he’d been waiting for an opportunity to get closer to you; to shift the relationship between customer and worker to possibly friends. “do you have work today?” he asked, giving a pointed look towards your clothes.

you shook your head, “my boss gave us the day off for our mental health.”

art smiled one of his crooked grins and you thought your legs might give out from under you. sure you’d seen his face before, but never for this long. it was strange to you how someone so beautiful was a baker in a busy city rather than being a model who strutted down a catwalk.

“do you want to learn how i bake?” he offered, his voice suddenly shy. you’d never seen art so nervous before. he was always smiley and energetic, so this was endearing to see.

“you’d really want to teach me?” you asked. in response he nodded eagerly. “of course i do. after all you’re my favorite customer.”

—

the first thing art showed you how to make was his famous chocolate chip cookies. you’d always assumed they were like any other cookie recipe, but he was quick to correct you on that. the thing that made his cookies special were that he used browned butter instead of regular for a nutty, caramelized flavor and chocolate shavings instead of chips. while art worked on browning the butter, he had you chopping up a bar of chocolate.

when it came time to mixing the dough, he let you do it but eventually had to take over when your arms got too tired. you watched him as he leaned over the bowl, spatula in hand as he folded the chocolate shavings in. you’d never think something as mundane as mixing could be so attractive, but art made it the sexiest thing you’d ever seen. his biceps nearly bulged from the sleeves of his black shirt and the look of concentration on his face made you want him to bend you over the counter top. you knew how perverted your thoughts were, but little did you know art had a similar track mind.

while you were looking through the pantry for some seasonings that art needed, he couldn’t help but stare at your ass as you bent over to pick something off the floor. he thought about coming behind you and fucking you senseless in his pantry, but he knew that would be wrong and violate so many health and safety codes. every time you would bite your lip as art explained something to you, he nearly lost his train of thought.

the two of you danced around each other, never admitting to the shared attraction. every so often art would place his hand on your lower back as he passed by and you tried to hide the shiver that racked down your spine. sometimes your hand would linger for a few extra seconds whenever he handed you something and you’d look directly into his eyes before taking the item and going back to work. the last hour of cleaning up the bakery and preparing to close had been completely silent. the two of you had been too wound up to actually say anything.

—

“so i’ll see you tomorrow?” he asked as the two of you walked towards your apartment. art hadn’t initially planned on escorting you home, but once he found out you had walked here, he knew he had to.

you nodded, “yeah. do you make lemon bars? I've been craving one lately.”

he shook his head, "i'll start thinking of a recipe. i've been meaning to expand my menu."

eventually the two of you reached your apartment door where the both of you lingered. neither of you wanted to go, but neither of you wanted to initiate anything in fear that the other didn’t reciprocate those feelings.

you sighed, “well, this is me.” you awkwardly fidgeted with your keys. the jangle was the only sound for a few moments.

art’s eyes flitted from the door and back to you before he took a step closer, causing you to take a step back, your spin now pressed flush against the wood. you looked up at him with wide eyes, unsure what he was going to do. in your head you’d been wanting him to kiss you, but now as that moment drew closer, you were increasingly nervous. it didn’t help that you could feel your palms start to sweat and your body get hot through the layers you were wearing.

he cupped your cheek, his hands surprisingly rough for someone who baked all day. art’s calluses brushed against your skin. this thumb gently traced your lower lip, picking up any lipgloss that had been there. he swallowed. “can i kiss you?” he asked, his voice deeper than you’d ever heard before.

you nodded dumbly, unable to conjure up any words. he laughed softly, smiling at you. “i need you to use your words.” you nearly came in your pants.

“you can kiss me,” you said, the words coming out as more of a squeak. art smiled and dipped his face down before pressing his lips to yours. they were soft against your own as he kissed you like you were something precious. his other hand gently wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer.

you gasped at the sudden move and art used the parting of your lips to slide his tongue into your mouth. you’d never really liked kissing with tongue, but art was something else entirely. the way he licked into you like he was eating you out had you nearly pulling his hair out. the hand that was on your face traveled up to your hand, tapping it gently to remind you to loosen your grip. you started to pull away to apologize, but art’s mouth chased yours and he was kissing you again.

the two of you made out in the hallway like a couple of horny teenagers until one of your neighbors walked by, reminding the two of you where you were. you quickly broke apart, catching your breaths.

“i should probably get going,” art said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. as much as he wanted an invite into your apartment, he knew he wouldn’t be able to spend a night with you and manage to wake up at 4 am.

you nodded, “you have a long day ahead of you.” with one final kiss, art made his way back to his apartment and you entered yours. that night art thought of a new lemon bar recipe that he'd eventually name after you.

tag list: @mattstimberlands @lexiiscorect @matchpointfaist @tigerlillizz @severe-mental-illness @coolgrl111 @spiritkissin @liabiamiakiawia

#challengers #art donaldson #mike faist #art donaldson x you #art donalson x reader #art donaldson x reader fluff #art donaldson fanfic #baker!art #baker!art donaldson

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bambambwi · 5 months ago

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Valentines Day With Ji Yong!

ermm...late valentines day post

its my first time writing, hope you all enjoy !

It was Valentine’s Day and you wanted to do something special for your boyfriend, Ji Yong. But instead of spending the day out and about, you wanted to do something different this time.

You were originally planning to spend time with him at your place, but then you got an idea.

“i should bake those heart cookies with him, he's been craving those for a while now anyway..”

You immediately got up from the couch and ran into the kitchen, grabbing everything you needed to start baking—until the doorbell rang.

“Ah, that must be him!”

You opened the door to find Ji Yong standing there, holding a bouquet of pink roses and a box of your favorite chocolates. He smiled before leaning in to give you a soft kiss.

“You shouldn’t have! I feel bad—I didn’t get you anything.”

“Don’t need to, aein. I got these for you because I wanted to.” he said with a soft smile.

He made his way to the couch, setting the gifts down before following you into the kitchen, where you were busy gathering bowls.

“What’s all this about, aein?” he asked, tilting his head.

“I thought it’d be fun to bake cookies together!”

Ji Yong’s lips curled into the cutest smile. How could he possibly resist you? You were absolutely adorable.

You both immediately got to work. Even though Ji Yong’s baking skills weren’t the best, he tried his hardest to help.

“Did you say salt or sugar? Because… I might’ve added the wrong one..” he admitted with a pout.

You blinked at him before letting out a small laugh. “Ah… it’s okay. I’ll take care of that. Here, you can mix this instead.”

Ji Yong let out a small breath before looking at you and smiling. You looked absolutely adorable in that apron—how could he focus on baking when you were this cute?

Once you placed the tray of cookies into the oven, Ji Yong was busy cleaning up the mess in the kitchen. But as you turned around, you accidentally bumped into him—causing the extra batter in the bowl to spill all over you.

He froze, staring at you in shock. His eyes widened with panic as he put the bowl down in the sink.

“Aein, I—I’m so sorry!” he blurted out, looking genuinely guilty.

You glanced down at your now messy shirt, then back at him, trying to hold back a laugh. But before you could say anything, he was already rushing off to your wardrobe.

“Stay right there! I’ll get you a clean shirt!” he called out, determined to fix his mistake before you had the chance to react.

“It’s okay, don’t worry so much. I can just wash it,” you said, pulling off your shirt and reaching for the clean one Ji Yong had grabbed from your wardrobe.

Instead of responding, he simply stepped forward and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a warm hug. You felt him sigh against you, his grip tightening just a little as if to silently apologize.

You smiled, resting your head against his chest for a moment before pulling away to put on the fresh shirt. He watched you with a soft expression, his fingers lingering at your waist before finally letting go.

Once you changed into the fresh shirt, you both got to work finishing up the kitchen. Ji Yong wiped down the counters and put away the utensils while you cleaned the sink, making sure everything was back in order after the earlier mishap.

After the mess was cleaned up, you turned your attention back to the cookies. Once they were perfectly baked, you took the tray out of the oven, the sweet aroma filling the room.

“Now for the fun part” you said with a grin, grabbing the strawberry jam.

Ji Yong’s eyes lit up as he watched you carefully spoon the jam into a heart shape on each cookie. He leaned over, getting excited to join in.

“I love this part” he said, his hands reaching for the jar of jam.

Together, you decorated the cookies, laughing and chatting as you went along. Ji Yong carefully added his own hearts, his tongue sticking out in concentration. In between, he pulled out his phone and began snapping pictures of you.

You just gave him a gummy smile as you focused on the cookies. The sight of your cute expression was too much for Ji Yong. He threw his head back and laughed, then sat down next to you, pulling his phone up to post the pictures he’d taken of you onto Instagram. He smiled as he added a caption, clearly proud of how adorable you looked in the moment.

Once the cookies were decorated, you both snuggled onto the couch with the tray of treats. Ji Yong pulled you close as you ate the cookies and watched a movie together. Between bites and laughter, he smiled and said, “I really enjoyed today. This was the best Valentine’s.”

You looked up at him, smiling. “Me too. I wouldn’t have wanted to spend it any other way.”

He leaned in, giving you a soft peck on the cheek, still smiling as he settled back into the couch.

liked by y/n, chaelincl & 2,356,956 others

xxxibgdrgn ✸ - valentine’s day done right ! 🐰

view comments

y/n ✸ - 🫶

liked by author

chaelincl ✸ - 👀 👀

liked by author

iloveyei - AWW CUTIES

heartuyi - valentine’s day who? y’all are the real treat fr

unknwnuser - this is adorable!

jijiei - two cuties together !!

daisyww - y/n can bake? wow!

#g dragon x reader #kwon jiyong x reader #kpop #bigbang x reader #g dragon #kpop fanfic

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illum1z · 2 months ago

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Lonely Star

Starboy!Gojo Satoru x F!Reader

You’re lonely. You’re grown enough to admit that. You’re also boring. Maybe a party will fix that. Your friend seems to think it will.

tags: voice kink, pet names (baby, pretty girl, angel etc.) body worship, slightly obsessive, implied stalking, soft mdom, pleasure dom gojo, HEAVY praise kink, just filth, drug use (weed, alcohol)

wc: 7.3k

Inspired by my favorite song by the weeknd (originally posted this on ao3, decided to make some tweaks and post it on here too) :p

.................... .................... .................... .................... ...............

Proverbs 27:12

“The prudent sees danger and hides himself, but the simple go on and suffer for it.”

A faint nausea roils deep in your gut as you stare at the blank document in front of you. An essay that’s no way near done, half a can of room temperature winter Red Bull, and over 50 unopened emails. You wanted to rip out your hair strand by singular strand. You wondered why you chose to do this to yourself.

You had checked Instagram a total of—count them—18 times since you sat at your desk 25 minutes ago, intending to finish up any schoolwork. Posts slowly trickled onto your feed from old high school friends in Europe or some other South American country. Their token good boy boyfriends took photos of them facing the vast cobalt turquoise waters or gothic architecture that stretched so high the steeples disappeared into the grey clouds. Truly, as much as it disgusted you, you felt immensely jealous of the lives they could choose after taking their diploma on that stage a couple of years ago.

For as long as you can remember, you never actively tried to seek out adventure or anything of the sort. You could usually be found cooped up in your room, nose in a book, or in your kitchen baking different cute little desserts for yourself, quaint music flowing from your speakers as you mixed batter or iced cakes. This was ideal for you anyway. Why would you rather be out snorting lines of coke in the back of some limo with girls you barely trust? You stayed out of trouble, stayed out of danger, and were happy that way.

You have nobody to impress by doing things like that, and you loved your quiet little life. So, what is this feeling that is like something is sitting on your chest? A voice nags that says, “You’re boring. You’re lame, and nobody likes an average Joe.” You did your best not to think about it, opting not to even like the posts your acquaintances posted and simply just trying to ignore them. Out of sight, out of mind. But these things never actually come easily to you.

You dragged your hands down your face, and the unfamiliar piercing ring of your cell phone snapped the silence in half. (You don’t receive calls very often if that wasn't already apparent.) Reluctantly, you look at your phone, expecting it to be your doctor wanting to schedule a follow-up for some old labs or something, but instead, you immediately notice the profile picture of one of your friends. Friend is kind of a stretch, she tends to reach out to you only if she has nothing else going on with anyone else.

You pressed the green answer button and put her on speaker. “Hey, Oakley, to what do I owe this pleasure?” You sounded slightly sarcastic, with maybe a tinge of annoyance in your voice.

She trilled her lips in an exaggerated sigh, the quality of the phone call crackling when she spoke. “You sound like you need a drink. Don’t worry, your best friend is to the rescue!”

“Best friend is kind of reaching, yeah?” you drawled, light-heartedly, you hoped, because you didn't want to hurt her feelings. You could practically hear her roll her eyes over the phone.

“Whatever (Name), you know you miss me a little at least.” You shrugged to yourself, a ghost of a smile making an appearance.

“Anyway, I can only imagine what you’re doing right now. Are you reading in bed or something?”

“Actually, I'm sitting at my desk, writing an essay with invisible ink, so close.”

“Okay, so nothing important, I want you to come with me to a party.”

You immediately opened your mouth to shoot her down. Parties were not your thing. It was like tossing a grasshopper in the ocean. That territory was very unfamiliar to you. The last party you went to was freshman year, the classic frat party that left you with a hangover that could kill God and a chipped tooth you later got filled in. Parties were dangerous for somebody like you.

“Oakley, I would rather-”

“I’m not listening to your excuses. All you do is sit and read. Or work, or bake, or shit that doesn’t get your blood pumping.”

“Reading gets my blood plenty pumping, mind you. I will not take this slander.”

“You’re a hermit, nerd. And I will not stand for this. You are 20 going on 21. The prime years of your life, and you don’t even try to have fun. I’m begging you, as an early birthday present, to come to this party with me. You can come to my place and get all dressed up, be a girl with me, please. It’ll be fun, I swear.”

The line went silent for a moment, and then you narrowed your eyes at the screen, imagining that she was in front of you.

“Your other friends bailed out on you, didn’t they? And your birthday was literally 3 months ago,” you rubbed at your temples, feeling a headache creep up from the very back of your skull.

“That doesn’t matter right now; I want to hang you with you on Thursday, can you please just pull the stick out of your ass and at least pretend you want to come.” You felt a pang in your chest as you realized you truly do have a stick up your ass. Like you were thinking earlier, you are boring, and it's not a good look. Another beat of silence.

Finally, you sighed. “Whose party is it?” You could almost hear her throw up her fist in victory at your submission. “A friend of a friend. I promise it’s nothing to worry about, it's safe, we’ll have a driver, and it's kind of exclusive in a way. We’re gonna have so much fun! Thursday, 3 pm, come by my place and I’ll give you all the details while we get ready, okay?”

The pure excitement in her voice swayed your heart in a way you weren’t expecting. It hurt a little, knowing just how excited she sounded that you’d be doing this with her, maybe she was scared to go on her own. “Yes, ma’am,” You sighed and went to hang up. “I’ll see you Thursday.”

The phone hung up, you decided to be done for the night. It was 11 pm after all. Switching off your lamp and cleaning up your desk, you made your way to the shower.

Thursday arrived before you knew it. Waking up that morning, you were dreading the night. After a thorough shower and a nice breakfast, you decided to run some errands. First on the list, cash this check your grandma sent to you for your birthday. Your grandmother has always been very generous and insisted on sending money every few months to help you navigate adult life. Although your birthday is no time soon, she tends to get a little foggy in the brain, but you don’t complain, she’s trying her best.

Slipping on a sweater and some leggings, you gathered your tote bag and your water bottle. November was always a weird transition month for you. The cold was biting, but the snow hadn’t arrived yet. Christmas is still so far away, and Halloween seems so far behind you now. It was a very sad month, it was like January but a little less depressing.

Stepping out of your quaint townhome, you started your journey down the street. The public had already arisen way before you, the streets bustling with college students, people late for work, dog walkers with 4 leashes in one hand and a coffee in the other. The streets were always so alive, no matter what time of day it was, and it motivated you somewhat. Everyone is going through it, you’re all suffering together in a way.

The bank was about 8 blocks away, and with a new set of determination, you picked up your stride with purpose, the cold wind nipping your nose, burning just a little. With the check nestled safely in your purse, you crossed street after street, passed shop after shop, in your own little world. Your headphones snug on your head, blaring music and protecting your ears from the cold gusts of wind that stirred the leaves on the streets.

Unfortunately, you weren’t paying attention to your surroundings, cue the embarrassingly clumsy move of bumping into someone walking in your direction. Your forehead rammed directly into somebody’s chest, not hard enough to knock you back, but hard enough to hurt.

You quickly stepped back to get out of this person’s personal space, thinking silently to yourself that they must be freakishly tall because, by all means, you were not short.

You dragged your eyes up the slender but built figure of who you bumped into. An apology instinctively falls from your lips. “I am so sorry; I truly am just forgetting that I’m in public, I genuinely did not see… you.” As your eyes landed on the face of the person, words seemed to fail you for a split second.

The first thing you noticed was the icy pair of cornflower blue eyes the stranger had. Very bizarre, it was like he had just come through a saturation chamber, a pair of small circular sunglasses sat languidly on the bridge of his nose. Then the rest of him, good god. He had to at least be 6’3, carrying this air of being cocky; his posture was fixed, authoritative, and overly confident. Literally your worst nightmare, with snowy hair that sat on his head perfectly, the bangs framing his soft, yet still sharp face. Plush pink lips that any girl would be jealous of, and of course, these luscious lashes that made you want to rip them out and replace your own. He looked familiar, like maybe a face you’ve seen on a billboard or two, but you couldn’t quite place it.

He flashed you a charming smile, eyes crinkling as a chuckle hit your ears. “Woah! Hey, you alright? You seemed up in ya head a little, yeah? Almost knocked me on my ass.” His large hands engulfed your shoulder to hold you steady to ensure you didn’t fall.

Oh my god, you were gonna throw up. He had the most resonant, mellifluous drawl of a voice. A lazy and carefree tone, yet still having the power to command a room at his will.

“You went quiet on me, sweetheart, did ya hit your head too hard?” He bent down to your level, his palm moving to lift your hair off your forehead, his eyes studying you with a worried look as if to check for injuries, a slight frown dawning on his pretty lips. You blinked and smiled at him awkwardly.

“No, I’m okay, thank you. I'm sorry again, I should be paying more attention to where I’m going.” His smell seemed to envelop you, hints of vetiver, a smoky amber with a trace of vanilla chasing after it. You blocked out the people around you and focused all your attention on the man in front of you.

“No harm done, you’re good hun.” Not once did he stop smiling; the navy blue bomber jacket he donned slowly slipped off his shoulders. His hands finally fell from your shoulder, but not before giving them a gentle, almost absent squeeze. “Where are ya heading in such a rush?” He stood back up to his full height before tilting his head at you curiously like a puppy, still taking the whole of you in.

You opened your mouth to answer, but stopped yourself, narrowing your eyes slightly. You don’t know this guy, and he's definitely not some normal dude in some ways. The question may not seem personal to anyone else, but you don’t get out very much.

He seemed to pick up the switch in your energy and raised his hands defensively. “Promise I’m not being weird, just trying to get in some small talk before you walk out of my life,” with the smoothness of butter, he grinned, all teeth on show as his hand came up and played with one of his bangs.

You raised an eyebrow and couldn’t help but smile, loosening up a little. “Just running some errands before I begrudgingly go to the party my friend is dragging me to.”

It may have been a trick of the light, but you swore you saw a glint in his eyes akin to being up to no good. His grin widened, and his voice dropped slightl.y “Oh yeah? You don’t seem like much of a party girl if you don’t take offense to that.”

You didn’t but you didn't really vibe with the way he was somewhat psychoanalyzing you.

The walls came back up.

“A little strange that you think you know me so well already, Mr..?” You prompted for his name, and a look of bewilderment crossed his face, like he wasn’t expecting you to expect an introduction from him.

Nevertheless, a simple, sultry laugh rumbled in his chest, and your brain almost short-circuited.

“Gojo, Satoru Gojo.” He removed his sunglasses and slipped them into his pocket. His eyes were trained on you, and he didn’t break eye contact once. It felt like the guy was scrutinizing you. “The pleasure’s all mine. And ‘m guessing you’ll give me your name in return..?”

His eyes bore into yours as if he were trying to pry your eyes out and peer past your sockets to study your brain.

His effect was too much for you; his presence was overwhelming your senses, and you needed to escape NOW.

With a quick once-over of him, you began to step around him. His eyes continued to follow you like they were stuck. “Maybe if we happen to meet again, I’ll tell you, but right now, places to be, things to do, so I’ll be going now.”

He pouted childishly as he watched you go. He smiled, his dampened slightly, not even enough for you to notice. “Aw, you don’t wanna stay here with me, hm? Not even a name to put to that darling face?”

Turning on your heel, you went to cross the street, waving at him. “It was nice to meet you, sir. Take care of yourself!” And you melted into the crowd on the crosswalk.

Gojo continued to search for you in the crowd, unmoving until he saw you emerge on the other side, walking a little faster than before.

First, he noticed the frazzled look on your face, paired with the hand rubbing your temples, while the other hand fidgeted with the buckles and zippers on your purse.

The second thing he noticed was how you had looked back after you had made it across, as if to see if he was still standing there observing. When you didn’t see him, he saw you mumble something to yourself before checking the time and booking it down the street.

Third and foremost, the small nervous smile that pulled your lips apart. He made you nervous, and that rattled a desire in him that made him want to squeeze something until it popped. His smile had disappeared as his gaze remained trained on you until you finally disappeared around the corner. The hand in his pocket clenched as he finally ripped himself from the trance and began to walk the opposite way down the street. His jaw ticked, and with a deep breath, his smile returned at a thought he had.

He looked forward to hearing you tell him your name. Not like he didn't already know, he was looking forward to breaking down that wall and earning that submission from you.

Soon.

Errands had been run, and you found yourself sitting on Oakley’s bed. She was blowing your hair while your hands got to the steady work of painting her toenails and a deep forest green color. You felt the intimate soft tickle of her fingers on your neck as she parted sections and slowly raked the dryer brush through them. The open window helped balance out the what of the dryer as you listened to the loud whoosh of the dryer and the faint sound of FKA Twigs poured from Oakley’s speaker on her desk.

“Again,” She speaks over the dryer, her fingers raking through your hair and massaging your scalp. “Thank you for coming, truthfully, I was scared of going alone. It's such a big-time party, and I was almost sick thinking about it. But I need to let loose more than anything right now, and so do you. Don’t forget to chillax tonight, have some drinks, and have a blunt. tonight is about to be hot, so let loose, and remember you’re still young. Staying hunched over your computer is bad for you all the time.”

You quietly nodded as you finished her toes just as she finished your hair. “I appreciate you thinking of me, Oaks. I do, I’m just nervous. I don’t know if you remember my last party, but i literally broke my tooth.”

“Who hasn’t?” She exclaimed, in an attempt to make sure you didn’t back out on her. It did not help settle your soul.

“You’re gonna be fine.” She massaged your scalp for a second before standing up.

“Alright! The party is in an hour and a half, let's pick an outfit, and then we can do our makeup.” You stood up with her and meandered into her closet with her, flipping through all her options.

After a long 30 minutes of decision-making, a dress was picked. Together, you guys sat in her large bathroom in front of her vanity, doing makeup. The music blasted in the background, and she occasionally used a makeup brush as a microphone to sing along. You couldn’t help but have fun with her, she was always so carefree and expressive it was hard to act nervous. Hell, you even joined in a few times.

After a long period of getting ready, you guys stood in the mirror together and looked over your work.

Oakley shrugged before wiggling her eyebrows at you suggestively. “I’d fuck you.” Mouth agape with an untimely snort slipping out, she laughed, shaking her shoulders. She laughed with you, playfully grabbing at you. You were already having so much fun.

You needed this.

You both pre-gamed the party, sharing a bud and a couple of shots of vanilla Schnapps. You both stood on the sidewalk, Oakley checked her phone, her eyes already a little low-lidded and pinkish. “Our ride should be here in just a second.”

Oakley’s hand intertwined with yours as if she feared you’d change your mind last minute and run away. Time was sort of getting away from you, and before you knew it, you were in a limo 5 minutes away from your destination.

A giggle bubbled up from your chest as you turned to your friend in the moving car. “Girl, I don’t even remember getting in the car.” The high was sort of wearing off already, and anxiety sat heavy in your stomach like an anchor.

She squeezed your hand as you focused on the streetlights and building windows that flew by as you made your way to the venue. Before she could reassure you, remember something.

“Oakley…”

She immediately let go of your hand. “Please don’t tell me you're about to puke because if you throw up, I will too.”

“You never actually told me whose party this is, or even where it's being held.”

She smiled sheepishly and looked out the window. “Oh, it's nothing, it's being held at a penthouse by some really rich guy, no biggie.”

Your eyes widened as you took in this information. “Are they even gonna let us in?!”

She quickly turned to you and smiled.

“Yes, I know for a fact they will. Don't worry. Please stop worrying, you’re gonna make my anxiety act up again. It's going to be fun, I promise.”

The limousine came to a slow stop. The driver pressed a button that automatically opened the doors. “We’ve arrived, ladies. Go ahead and walk into that building and tell them your names, and you’ll be good to go.”

You both thanked the driver and stepped out with your purses, closing the doors behind you and standing on the sidewalk. The skyscraper stretched far beyond the dark skyline, the illuminated windows disappearing far beyond the eye can see. The building looked pretty empty from the outside. Nobody was outside, and from what you could see, nobody was inside either.

“Are you sure this is right? It seems empty, Oakley.” She smiled and led you to the glass door entrance, opening it for you and gesturing for you to go inside.

“Trust me, it's just a little high profile. This is right.” You walk into the building with your friend in tow. Inside, it was sleek, the whole lobby decorated with black and white marble floors and dark ebony wood walls. There was an empty reception desk to the right and an elevator to the left. Any and all doors in the lobby had no windows, and it seemed like nobody was inside.

Oakley walked to the elevator and pressed the top floor, before waiting for it to come down. With a pleasant ding, the doors slid open, and she dragged you inside, waiting for them to close.

“Now, just be calm,” She rubbed your back reassuringly, her warm skin caressing the expanse of your shoulder blades in your open-back dress. “My friend told me there’s like an extra step to this or something. To actually get to the party.” After a minute, the elevator dinged again before opening to a small room, the same as the lobby, but with no windows and no doors, just a plain room. Inside stood two tall men, both wearing navy blue suits and ties, intimidatingly staring you both down as soon as the doors opened. You both walked into the room slowly, heels clacking against the floors and bouncing off the empty walls.

“Names?” The man on the left asked, holding a table of sorts, eyeing you both up and down.

Oakley spoke first. “Oakley Summers.” She looked at you next, prompting you to give your name. When you said it, both men raised their eyebrows in acknowledgment and nodded at each other. He tapped on the table and smiled warmly.

“Alright, ladies, you’re free to go. Take this keycard and hold it up to the keypad by the emergency button, and you’ll get where you need to go.” The man on the right handed you a small white keycard and smiled a little less warmly.

“Enjoy.” His voice bordered on a warning, like he was giving you a chance to turn back. You took the keycard with confidence and thanked them quietly under your breath. You and Oakley walked back onto the elevator before you scanned the card. The doors shut, and you began ascending again. So that wasn’t the top floor?

You and Oakley shared looks and burst into a fit of laughter. “High profile you said? This is literal FBI shit Oaks.” She shrugged and poked your side.

“This is gonna be the best night of our lives.”

The elevator doors opened again after about a minute, and you were not prepared for what you saw. What could be the biggest room you have ever seen was filled to the brim with people, packed like sardines. Loud chatter, singing, music so loud you could feel the bass vibrate your ribcage. Red, purple, and blue lights flashed everywhere, it felt like the ground was shaking. Past the crowd were large lounge areas with what could only be described as nightclub furniture. You could see 3 bars alone from the elevator, women on poles littered about the room, giving everyone a show they wouldn’t dare forget.

Oh yeah, this was unfamiliar territory.

Oakley stood next to you in shock and awe, a huge grin creeping onto her face. She grabbed your hand and dragged you out of the elevator. “Come on!”

You held tight as you weaved your way through sweaty, grinding bodies. The room smelled like alcohol, weed, and 100’s of different colognes and perfumes. The lights bounced off the layer of smoke that sat above the room, casting an eerie glow on the crowd.

You guys eventually made it to the closest bar and sat on stools next to each other. Oakley immediately ordered a few shots for you two to share as you took in your surroundings, There were so many people. How did it look so empty outside?

When your drinks arrived Oakley handed you your shot. “On three?” She yelled over the thumping music. You smiled and nodded. On 3 you both downed your shot.

You coughed the burn searing your throat as your eyes watered.

“Holy shit what was that?” You coughed into your hand trying to look at your friend, who was struggling equally as much.

“Probably – agh fuck - Everclear or something.” She shook her head and reached out her hand. “Shall we dance?” You took her hand and she dragged you to the middle of the crowd, immediately hopping into rhythm with the upbeat song.

So many bodies surrounded you two, Oakley stood behind you, hands on your waist as you both jumped and rocked to the song. She laughed and sang along behind you, the alcohol settled into your system, a pleasant buzz simmering in your veins as you got into the rhythm.

Lost in the song, you forget about your responsibilities and your worries and live in the moment with your friend. Everything faded away, like a light at the end of a harbor. It was all so distant, so far away. It felt like your body was floating in a warm pool as a soft storm descended over the waters, the rain gently kissing your face, the lightning warming the blood in your veins. The thunder pounded in your chest, and you drowned.

Before long, the song ended, and you turned around to face your friend, but she was nowhere to be seen. Before you could process that she wasn’t there, a new, slower, and more sensual song began to play. Coming Down reverberated in your ears, the slow intro coaxing you to get back into the rhythm. The bodies in the room began to slow down; the lights dimmed to set the darker mood.

Before you could call out to her, a pair of hands settled on either side of your waist, a broad chest pressed against your back. You were going to retaliate before that familiar smell enveloped you again, but this time tenfold. Vetiver, amber, and vanilla, with a new twinge of smoke added onto the layers. Soft locks of hair tickled the back of your neck and a pair of lips gently rested against your ear.

They blew cold air against the shell of your ear before kissing it ever so softly, like you would shatter into a million pieces if they were too rough.

The hands snaked forward further, cupping your stomach and putting pressure on your lower abdomen, pressing you further against his chest. Then there was that fucking sin of a voice of his.

“Look who decided to bless me with her presence once again.” His voice tickled your skin, that lazy drawl of his coaxing you to lean further back into him, to meld into him like he was another part of you. You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol, but you wanted nothing more than to be so close to him that nobody would be able to tell your intertwined limbs apart. Your hand came up and cupped the back of his neck as he slowly swayed you both to the music, him not moving away from your neck. He pressed languid kisses along your exposed shoulder, dragging his lips down as one hand left your stomach to lift your wrist to his lips. He ghosted his lips down the inside of your arm until his lips rested on the pulse point on your wrist.

“You’re breathtaking tonight angel.” He murmured into your hair, the hand on your stomach moving to squeeze your hip. You still haven’t been able to see him yet, he remains behind you, holding you so gently, yet his grip on you is like a vice, and you’re not sure if you want him to let go.

You were drowning in him now. Gojo had you wrapped around his finger, the lights danced off your skin, and all he wanted to was take a bite, but he would never give these people the privilege of seeing him do that to you.

You were his for tonight. You were giving him this Thursday. He wanted you all to himself, away from prying ears and eyes. He finally turned your body around, guiding your hands to come up and wrap around the back of his neck as his own held your hips tight, guiding you closer.

Finally, you were able to get a good look at him in this lighting, The blues and purples flowed over his skin like light beams on ocean waves. His eyes bore into your eyes like your first meeting, his hands traced up then down, up then down…

“Mm, don’t look at me like that, baby. Ya havin’ fun?” His forehead rested against yours. There was no personal space here.

His nose brushed against yours, a slow lazy smile creeping onto his lips. “So pretty, so beautiful. I just want to get on my knees and worship you.”

Of course, there was small doubt in your mind, but as soon as he saw that shadow of insecurity on your face, he buried his face into the crook of your neck, taking a deep breath in. “I do, sweetheart, I do, yeah, I do.”

Oh my god, he was going to kill you.

His arms tightened around you, both of his entire arms encircling your whole body, one hand on your back while the other lifted your leg with a firm grip on your thigh, pulling you impossibly closer. He pulled his face back from your neck and pressed gentle, chaste kisses all over your face.

First, your nose, then both of your eyelids, behind your left ear, and the lobe of your right. One on each cheek, and the corner of your lips. You opened your mouth to speak, but words failed you once again. He smiled at you, before cupping your face in his hand.

“No, no, baby, it's okay. You don’t need to speak; this is all about you tonight. All I need from you is a yes. That's all…” He kissed your cheek again, his eyes half-lidded and pupils dilated. “Just a simple yes, and I can make this night unforgettable for you.” His breath mingled with yours, god he was so close.

You were so lost in the moment that you didn't realize at least 6 songs had played already before one that you recognized began to play.

“If, all I could say is if.” Gojo followed along with the intro aloud, his lips ghosting against your own as he spoke. Your head felt fuzzy and his arm pressed into your lower back, moving your body farther up.

Closer to him.

“Promise me you won't regret me like the tattoos on my skin.

I belong to you

Promise me when they all love you that you'll remember me

When you fuck them, you'll see my face

My body is yours

Every Thursday.”

With the indolence of a disciplined man, his lips melted into yours like chocolate, and his warmth spread from your mouth to the tips of your toes. You didn’t even realize you were leaning towards him until he deepened the kiss, his tongue tracing your lips before taking your bottom lip between his teeth, smiling against you, groaning audibly before diving right back like a man starved.

His hands roamed as if he were searching for something, like he was searching for a way to pry you open and crawl inside your skin, to become one with you.

“Oh (Name,) please. ‘M gonna need a yes from you soon. I can’t even breathe, baby. C’mon, pretty girl, tell me you need this. Let me help you get a glimpse of heaven.”

You didn’t even bother to ask how he knew your name, you moaned into his mouth, gripping his hair in fistfuls. “Yes, mm god yes please Satoru.”

That was all he needed to hear. He ripped his lips away from you before taking your hand in his own and hurriedly guiding you out of the crowd. You couldn’t see where you were going, blindly following behind Satoru.

He led you further and further away until the sound of the crowd and the music was a muffled, faint hum in the background as he took you to an unoccupied lounge behind a closed door. As soon as the door shut, he guided your back against the door and pressed his entire body against you, swallowing your whimpers with his lips, like he needed you to breathe.

He kissed you with a fever that could only be described as desperate, nasty, and consuming. One hand held your neck, while the other traced down the length of your torso, before snaking underneath your dress. The pads of his fingers pressed against that bundle of nerves underneath your panties, tracing lazy circles over it as his tongue licked patterns into your mouth.

“Is my pretty girl wet for me?” He moaned into your mouth, laughing when in response your body jolted like you had been shocked. It felt so fucking right. You grabbed onto his arm, grounding yourself when he pushed your panties to the side, tapping his middle finger against the entrance of your cunt.

“Gotta get you good and ready for my cock, yeah? Don’t wanna hurt you sweetheart..” He slipped his middle finger in, and you nearly fell apart then and there. It was so long and slender that it reached farther than you’ve ever been able to reach yourself. He would never admit it to you, but the thought of hurting you just a little sent a dark and deep shiver down his spine. He imagined you arms tied being your back as he dug his tongue deep into your sweet cunt and eating you out until you were so overstimulated you couldnt breathe, then shoving his cock in you and fucking you absolutley stupid, no matter if you were all fucked out already. He’d love to use your body until you passed out on him. He would resort to slow, deep, torturous rolls of hips to coax your stupid brain out of sleep before pounding you into the mattress all over again.

But who knows when he’d have you again. Gojo wanted to take his time with you tonight and take care of you. He just hopes he can control himself.

“Ooh, yeahhh… ya feel that?” He kissed your collarbones, licking along them before sucking little purple marks into your neck. “Does that feel good, baby? I bet it does…” You nodded, unable to form words, too busy focusing on the feeling inside of you. Slowly, he added a second finger, making a slow, deep, come-hither motion inside of you.

“Let me hit that spot, beautiful, let me find it, make you fall apart for me.” And that’s exactly what he did, gently applying the most delicious amount of pressure to your G-spot, coaxing you to let yourself go. A pressure in your stomach began to curve and coil, your brain went foggy, and your ears began to ring as his words touched the deepest parts of you.

He dove back into your neck, his finger moving a little faster, but focusing more on the pressure. “Feel that for me, feel it all in your body. C’mon, give me one baby. I need one before I fuck you so good you can’t think. Empty that pretty little head of yours. Let go.”

You did as you were told, the tight coil in your lower tummy snapped, your back arched against the door, your hands twitching and reaching out to grasp onto his clothes.

“Oh, my fucking g-god. Satoru!” You saw white, briefly going blind. Before you knew what was happening, your world was spinning, and you were lying on a bed in the lounge room. He hovered over your splayed and spent body, his shirt gone as he unclipped his belt.

You sink into the mattress, the ivory cream sheets swallowing you in gently silky waves of white.

Satoru crawled on top of you, shimmying you out of your dress till you were completely bare below him. One hand grabbed your left thigh and pushed it up to rest right by your torso, the other hand pressed, not too hard, not too soft, against your lower abdomen, right on your tummy.

“I wan’ you to feel everything. How deep inside of ya I can go. I need you to feel all of me. Can ya handle that angel?” The look he gave you was almost pitiful, like he knew just how much he was about to affect you.

Nodding frantically, you close your eyes, “Yes, Satoru, I can handle it. I can handle you, please, please..”

He groaned and leaned down so he could kiss you. “Deep breaths, beautiful. Look at me and breathe.” You locked eyes with him, his gaze never shying away as he guided himself to your entrance. Breathe in. Breathe out. In… out…

When Satoru first split you open your first thought was, there is no way he’ll fit. But he must have seen the look in your eyes. He kissed your eyelids again, the hand holding to your thigh rubbing slow circles.

“It will, I promise. Just breathe like I asked. You can do it.” You breathed with him as he slowly pushed himself inside you with such gentleness that you wouldn’t believe how he would be obliterating your guts in a few minutes.

“Good job, good job, look at you go. My pretty little party girl. Taking me so well.” He thrusts oh so slowly, giving you time to adjust.

You were to fucked out to notice, but if you really payed attention to him, you would most likely feel scared. The look in his eyes was nothing short of animalistic. Like he’s been chasing after you for years, getting so close to capturing his fluttering, evasive dove, just for you to slip from his fingers yet again. A deep frustration knitted into his brows, and his fingers sank into the plush flesh of your lower body, resisting a primal urge in his gut to drag his nails across your smooth skin and carve his mark into you. Claim you as his.

He smiled a sick, cocky smile, taking in your absolute cock drunk expression, your eyes shut froms shyness, and your legs twitching when he hit that spot deep, deeeeep in your guts. The way your fingers twitched when he applied more pressure to your stomach. How your eyes rolled back and your cunt clenched when he got close to your ears, groaning and whispering about how good you were being for him.

Holy fuck, he was so impossibly deep. You could feel it in your throat. Your hands gripped the sheets above you, biting your bottom lip so hard you swore you tasted blood,

“Ah ah ah, none of that.” He slipped two fingers past your lips to coax you to open your mouth, pressing down on your tongue. “Let me hear that gorgeous voice. Let - ngh - let me hear you..”

You complied, not holding yourself back. He had returned down to your stomach, and with one particular deep, slow, hard thrust, you could feel the bulge in your stomach where he pressed down.

“Yessss..” He moaned, mouth slipping around your nipple, his thrusts seemingly digging deeper and deeper with each pull and push of his hips. He kissed your breasts all over, your shoulders, your neck, your face, worshipping your body. “Make those noises for me, cmon. You love this, don’t you? Tell me you love it with those fuckin moans.”

“Been wanting you for so long, needing you for so long.” Each thrust of his hips made you feel ever more full than the last.

“Satoru…!” You whimpered, his touch leaving a hot trail of fire everywhere.

“I know you like the back of my hand, know you like you’ve been mine since the beginning of time. Know your body so well. Ah, fuck… beautiful, beautiful girl..” He could feel his morale slipping the more he lost himself in your sloppy cunt. He’d fuck you full of his children. He’d hide you away from everyone else, so nobody could look at you. You would be all for him and him alone.

This went on for god knows how long, he littered you with praises as he bullied his cock deep inside of you, never failing to hit that spot that made you see stars. His thrusts gain momentum and power throughout before every thrust knocks the air from your lungs.

“Gonna come one more time for me, sweet girl? Please, I need you to come again.” He had to make this last, he had no idea when the next time he’d see you would be. He wants you more than he needs oxygen. Needs you more than food and water.

But he can’t keep you. He WILL have you again another day, he’ll tie you down to his bed and fuck you so good you’ll come crawling back to him, begging to see heaven again. But it wouldn’t last. He’d scare you off. So he pushes it down and relishes in the fact that he has you now. Falling apart underneath him, drawing the most sinful sounds from you, sounds only HE can pull from you. He has you this Thursday, and he will not let this night go to waste.

“C’mon, baby. Give me one more. One more, you can do it…” Satoru begins to rub quick circles on your clit, hissing when he feels you clench around his cock.

“Oh god oh god oh god, Satoru I’m gonna come..” His grin spreads, ferally almost. Refusing to let up he pulls you into a deep, invading kiss.

“Go ahead,” his eyebrows dip as he watches every micro-expression you make. “Come for me, baby girl. Give it to me. I’ll give you anything and everything. Kill anyone who dares to lay a finger on you. You’re mine. Mine.. Come, pretty girl, please.”

Satoru’s pretty, breathless voice tipped you over the edge to your last orgasm of the night. Your mind shattered like a mirror, and you swore you passed out for a few seconds.

Your body twitched and convulsed when you came; it made Gojo feel like God, the way he could pull these reactions out of you.

He spilled himself inside of you, groaning in your ear before he bit the lobe, rocking his hips deeper into you to fuck him cum right back into you. He could die right now and die happier than ever.

He lay on top of you, spent, his chest swelled, and his head was fuzzy. You lay underneath him, almost already asleep. You both know deep in your hearts that come morning, this can be no more. He can’t keep you all to himself on Friday morning.

So, for now, you both relish this feeling of satisfaction.

Promise me, when they all love you that you'll remember me

When you fuck them, you'll see my face

My body is yours

Give them any other day

but Thursday

Belongs to me

#gojo satoru #gojo smut #jjk #gojo x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen #gojou satoru x reader

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