#she'll always wonder about what could've been | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

personasintro · 1 year ago

Text

Mutual Help | #34

↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; in order for you to pretend to be his girlfriend, he helps you with your sexual desires ⏤ he calls it mutual help

⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jungkook x reader

⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fake dating au, fluff, angst, smut, slow burn

⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language, mature content

⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭:��14.6k+

⇠ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯. | 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ⇢

"Jungkook!" It's like the sweetest melody to him, to hear her angelic voice as she falls apart underneath him and his fingers, his lips preparing kisses on her neck to coax her through an orgasm.

He pulls out his fingers out of her heat, wiping them against his sweatpants as he watches her chest heave with quickened pace. Kiko's eyes open as she smiles at Jungkook, sitting up before she delivers a kiss to his lips.

"I love you," she whispers, looking into his doe eyes while he stares at her as if he hasn't just fingered her.

He wasn't planning any of this. It happened naturally, just two of them cuddling on Jungkook's bed while they talked about their day. It started with a kiss and none of them told the other to stop. He doesn't regret it and is happy that no dark thoughts erupted in his mind while he kept his attention on the woman in front of him – his girlfriend.

It's no lie he was scared whenever they'd become more intimate, wondering if he's going to think about someone else touching her. But as soon as his lips met hers, he couldn't think about anything else but the desperation and love he feels for her. Maybe she doesn't deserve him, like you said and deep down Jungkook knows that too, but heart wants what it wants. He doesn't want to spend the rest of his life and their relationship analyzing all the things they're doing and keep happening between them.

"We don't have to go any further, if you're not ready."

Jungkook doesn't realize he's slightly frowning, letting her hands caress his chest. Embarrassingly but quite naturally, his hardened dick draws too much attention, something that's been caused by him being so close to her. Jungkook is a man, that much is certain and understandable, so it's only reasonable for him to pop up a boner. He's got his own needs and to be honest, jerking off in the shower is becoming boring and not enough.

"Are you ready?" Caring as always, Jungkook asks her as his brown eyes flicker to her own as she sucks in breath, growing emotional at how good of a man he is.

"Yes," she simply says, even though there are thousands of words she'd rather say. "But this is mostly about you, Kookie. We can wait." she smiles at him, giving him that bit of courage in case he's contemplating whether to say yes or no.

And he doesn't understand it. He doesn't understand how such a sweet girl full of love and compassion when it comes to everyone around her, especially when it comes to Jungkook, could've hurt him so much.

Jungkook asked for time and Kiko fully respects it, never doing the first move for them to grow closer like they used to be. She doesn't want to do anything Jungkook might be uncomfortable with and she'll give him as much time as he needs. No matter how much she wants to go back to how they were. And it took a long time for her to realize that maybe they will never be like they used to be.

"I don't wanna wait," he says softly, cupping her hands that are placed over his chest, stealing a kiss from her. "I wanna move further, be closer to you." he says once he slightly pulls away.

He hears her gasp, tears pooling in her eyes as she kisses him again. She reaches for his sweatpants, already ready to cup his hardened length but he shakes his head, detaching their mouths. He's met with her scared eyes, scared because she thinks she did something wrong or maybe misread the situation. Jungkook sees that and rushes to explain himself.

"I just want to feel you. I can't wait." he murmurs against her mouth, noticing how she nods and helps him undress himself.

Jungkook has always had a very fit body, has maintained it with diets and by him spending his free time in the gym, working out whenever he had the time. But ever since she had the opportunity to see him like this, Jungkook's body gained more muscles and a couple of tattoos. Seeing her gulping at the sight of his abs, he grows more confident and even smirks down at her as he takes off all of his clothes.

The couple keeps kissing, Kiko's hands touching Jungkook's body like it's the first time she ever gets to do it. When she sneakily wraps her hand around his length, he's losing it already reaching for his nightstand. She doesn't question his choice, completely understanding it by more than one reason. Jungkook notices the guilt on her face, knowing exactly why she's reacting like that. Their relationship had been so close, full of trust that they'd go bare a few times. They both would get tested every few months, just to be sure and Kiko's been taking birth control since she was a teen. The level of trust they had with each other was specimen. To see him reaching out for a condom box, even though she knows he was surely intimate with you too, reminds her that some things really changed. But can she blame him or be shocked? No. She's not. More like disappointed with herself.

"I love you." she reminds him as she watches him roll the condom down his length, his dark eyes glancing at her as he smiles.

He hovers over her, one arm holding himself not to crash her while the other one goes down to his length. "I love you too." he tells her, kissing her as he slowly enters her.

It's unbelievable how all the memories and bad feelings are gone, and all he can remember are the good times when they were connected like this countless times, proving their young love.

"Miss, with all due respect, I don't think you should drive right now." The paramedic tells you for the third time, the poor guy growing impatient and maybe slightly annoyed by your stubbornness. The other man, the driver, sitting in the driver's seat lets out a sigh behind you but decides to stay quiet. All he does is react with annoyed sighs. Asshole.

"But I'm fine," you almost whine, heart still beating from the fact you had a car accident but luckily haven't harmed anyone else. However, you're glad you're alive and made it out with a wound to your temple which isn't that bad. It hurts but not to the point you couldn't handle it. You just hit it pretty hard and it caused a small cut to pierce your skin. Luckily, there are no stitches needed.

He gently taps the bandaid that secures your wound causing you to hiss, ignoring the knowing look from the middle aged man.

By the time you've realized you're alive and very much lucky that your car didn't collide with someone else's, somebody already called an ambulance. Apparently, they have to check you even though you assured them you're fine but the blood slowly dripping down your cheek said otherwise. It's just blood, you naively thought but then agreed to let them examine you. You don't want to risk anything, but you don't think it's that serious to the point you couldn't drive. And you're lucky there hasn't been a need to call the police, since this hasn't been a fender bender situation.

"It's just a small wound." you tell him, looking at your car that's parked on the side of the road, almost mockingly staring at you while you're sitting in the ambulance.

"Yes, but you hit your head pretty hard and some symptoms of something more serious can show later. I don't advise you to drive. Look, we can get your car towed. You said it yourself that you panicked because you were shocked," Fuck you and your big mouth. In your defense, there wasn't much that you could've said instead. "I advise you to call someone to pick you up. Do you have someone you could call to come get you?"

Sighing, somewhere in the corner of your freaking stubbornness, you know the man is probably right. He has no reason to lie to you and fake his worry about you. He's a professional, probably experienced and seen countless similar situations like this one. However, you do think he's making a big deal out of this. You've been barely harmed and you haven't harmed anyone, nor damaged your car. For the sake of yourself, and maybe the fact this man has warm eyes but looks stern and is probably thinking you're some dumbass, you don't even tell him that the reason you panicked is not just the driver's fault who was stopping at a red light at the last chance. You don't mention you mainly panicked because you know your car is old and you don't feel so safe in it anymore. This, what just happened is totally your fault and you don't need anyone else to scold you for that, when you're already doing that for yourself.

"But what about my car?" you pathetically ask, trying to give him a reason to let you be and don't worry about you.

"We'll get it towed to your address. Your car is gonna be completely fine." he assures you, earning another sigh of desperation as you hug your jacket closer to yourself.

The first person that comes to your mind to save your ass is Jungkook, of course. Not only because he's usually the one getting you out of trouble (not that you get into trouble often), but he's also the only person that is probably very much awake and not getting ready for bed.

Who else would you call? Taehyung? He's probably asleep and he doesn't even own a car. Jimin is a person you can rely on, he's the actual definition of sweetheart and would come whenever you'd ask him to. But it's Monday and he works in an office, and he usually works overtime a lot. And he's too worried for his own good, you don't need him to panic as soon as you explain what happened to you. Jungkook will surely freak out too, you know how he gets whenever the subject is about you and your safety. But right now, he's the only logical solution and you're more leaning towards him, knowing that after all he's been the first person to come to your mind.

So you pull out your phone, glancing at the paramedic that tries to hide his relief of you listening to him. You purse your lips, knowing shit is about to go down once Jungkook picks up the phone. But he doesn't respond at the first try, your free hand rubbing your unharmed temple as you dial his phone number again.

This is why you didn't want to call anyone, you're just burdening someone's Monday.

Jungkook feels like a teen again. Almost as if he just lost his virginity and can brag to his friends about it, not that he has ever done that in the first place. Nor is he the type to brag about such an intimate thing to his friends. He used to be the shy type, not joining whenever the topic of girls swallowed the group of his teen friends.

This is not some kind of accomplishment but he can't help how content he feels right now. The moment they just shared was so beautiful, like all the times they made love. Jungkook has forgiven her a long time ago but to have it confirmed that he hasn't felt any bitter feelings during it, makes his heart more at ease. It has been such a special and emotional moment between the couple, only they can understand it. The sex full of tears, cries of pleasure and love, along with emotions.

His smile beams as he walks out of the bathroom, drying off his hair with a small white towel. The sound of Kiko continuing to shower in peace can be heard from the distance, until Jungkook's phone starts vibrating on the nightstand. His brows plunge into a frown in confusion, wondering who's calling this late. He walks up to it, towel still securely wrapped around his lower waist as he sees your name flashing on the screen. Along with the flower emoji you insisted on because apparently, you're a 'delicate flower' as you called yourself.

He chuckles at the memory and you without you even knowing, reaching for his phone as he doesn't hesitate to take the call.

"What's up, delicate flower?" he jokes, throwing the small towel he used for his hair over his shoulder.

"Hey, Kook," He hears you sigh, his grin dropping slightly. "Where are you?"

He's confused by the sudden question, but answers nevertheless. "Home."

"I'm sorry to bother you this late, but could you please come and pick me up?" you ask, somehow sounding pressured and tired at the same time, which only worries him more. You wouldn't call him and ask such a thing if it was something stupid. It's only after your questions he hears distant cars and Seoul's busy traffic.

"What happened? Are you okay?" he asks, already sounding alarmed. "Is it your car?"

"Yeah, something like that." The sigh leaves your mouth again, his head snapping to Kiko who walks into his bedroom already dressed in pajamas. She's smiling but once she sees Jungkook's widened eyes and features twisted in a worry, she stops and looks just as alarmed.

"Send me the address. I'll be there as soon as possible." he tells you, hearing you thanking him before you end the call.

"What happened?" Kiko asks, Jungkook already rushing towards the drawer he keeps his shirt on as he starts putting more clothes on.

"I don't know, I think Y/N is in trouble." he answers quickly, putting on boxers.

His hands move on their own, quick and rushed as he starts putting on the first thing he sees. It's no surprise he even pulls out a black sweatpants, matching the shirt he randomly picked but he could care less about the choice of color for his outfit.

"Trouble?"

"I don't know, she just wants me to pick her up but she had some issues with her car, so I guess something happened with it." he answers quickly, putting on a hood over his wet hair.

There's no time to blow dry it, even though he knows the risks of going out into such cold weather with wet hair.

"Oh my god, I hope she is fine." Kiko says worriedly, handing Jungkook his phone and wallet as he thanks her, already rushing to put on his shoes. The phone vibrates in his pocket, notifying him that you've sent him the address.

She hands him his jacket from the rack, watching him put it on messily before he snatches his car keys off the counter.

"I... don't know when I'll be back. You can go to sleep, if that's what you want... or--"

Kiko notices him rambling, knowing he's in a rush and it causes her to give him a smile, opening the front door for him. "Of course, go. Just please be careful, it's still snowing." she tells worriedly, seeing him nod almost not even present as he runs through the halfway to get into the underground garage to get his car.

It's still snowing. He knows that and maybe that's why he's so worried, remembering today's news where they'd warn the public to be especially careful. He can only hope nothing bad has happened and he'll have to hope for it, until he'll be there and see you himself.

The snow eases a bit but the cold stays, causing you to shiver while you answer the paramedic's questions about your current state. You've decided to sit on the edge of the ambulance between the open back door, so you'll know when Jungkook arrives.

"No head spinning?" he asks, seeing you spaced out for a moment as you shake your head.

You're just tired, managing your own shock while you worry what's going to happen with your car. Will you be able to drive it tomorrow? It should be fine, it was your fault for panicking, not the car's. But also your car isn't in a perfect state. However, you think you're in no position to choose because you rely on your car. You've to get to your work somehow, into the club on weekends as well. It has always been more convenient for you, in terms of distance and time, to use your car rather than public transportation. That's what bothers you the most. Still, you can't really use public transportation during weekends when you're working in a club. No matter how safe South Korea is, traveling by yourself in the middle of night isn't safe, no matter the country.

Black Mercedes stops just right behind your car, coming in a record time considering you called him less than twenty minutes ago. Jungkook walks out, hood of his hoodie draped over his hair, eyes glancing at your parked car on the side of the road before his eyes are already on the ambulance. You barely manage to notice the panic on his bare features because he's already running towards you, noticing you shivering and sitting on the edge of the ambulance.

You know how this must look and knowing Jungkook, just the sight of the ambulance is enough to tick him off.

"Oh my god, what happened?" He runs towards you, cupping your face into his hands as soon as he stops in front of you, eyes wide and filled with worry and horror. You see his eyes drop to your wound, hands delicately touching your cheeks.

"It's not as bad as this whole thing looks," you tell him, motioning with your hand around you. "It's just a scratch."

Jungkook ignores you, obviously having a different opinion about how this looks. "What happened?" He presses again, looking at the paramedic who looks relieved to finally know someone came for you, and you're not going to be that stubborn to drive on your own.

"A mere car accident, sir. No one else has been hurt and the car is undamaged, but she hit her head hard and I think it's better if she doesn't drive. At least until we're sure nothing serious will occur," The man says, Jungkook's eyes focused on him as he has a prominent scowl already plastered on his usually soft features.

You shiver, causing Jungkook to glance at you as he hugs you to his body, your arms automatically wrapping underneath his padded black and warm jacket. The paramedic informs him about your car being towed, saying something about how you agreed with it and luckily doesn't mention your stubbornness. But you barely listen to him, focusing on the warmth radiating from Jungkook's body as you feel his hands stroking your back through your own jacket.

"You're not driving that car again." Jungkook says, your brows raising as you look up at him completely thrown off before you frown.

"Excuse me?" you tell him, growing irritated by his tone and how confident he sounds. It's not any of his business and who does he think he is to tell you what to do?

"You can be glad you got out with a scratch, you could've been in a hospital in a much worse state, maybe even fighting for your own life. Fuck, Y/N, that car is not safe."

You're shocked how mad he sounds all of a sudden, the worry speaking out of him automatically. At the mention of your car not being safe you glance at the man, almost looking guilty, while he raises a brow at you while he shakes his head. Well, now he surely thinks you're a dumbass. Thanks to Jungkook and his mouth.

You glare at Jungkook but he has the audacity to harden his features, completely ignoring your silent warning. "I need a car, Jungkook." you point out through your clenched teeth, unwrapping your arms off him.

"Your life is more important than a fucking car." he almost barks at you, shaking head at your stubbornness.

"You're being dramatic." you tell him, mocking him by shaking your head.

He scoffs, clenching his jaw as he looks like a minute from fuming. You get he's worried about you, you could've predicted he'd act like this once he sees your wound and the fact the ambulance had to come. But you're tired, both physically and mentally and the last thing you need is him scolding you like a kid, even in front of the parademetic that feels the tension and decides to break it.

He clears his throat, gaining both of your and Jungkook's attention. "If there are any symptoms, head spinning, throwing up or anything else. Please, don't hesitate to go to a hospital." he informs you, even glancing at Jungkook as if he's purposely saying it to him.

You're not that stupid to overlook those symptoms if they were happening to you. No matter how much the paramedic and Jungkook think you're stubborn, you wouldn't gamble with your health like that. Everyone is making out of this whole situation a bigger deal than it is.

"Yes, thank you." you tell him, giving him a bow as you stand up, already seeing a man from the tow company approaching.

The paramedic gives the two of you one last glance and nod, shutting the back door. Once everything is settled with your car, you get into Jungkook's while you both sit in silence. He doesn't start the engine right away for some reason, but you're too busy to question it as you sigh in content at the warmth of his car.

"I'm fine, Kook," you mutter, feeling his eyes on you and as you glance at him, you see him looking at you. "I know how it looks but I'm fine."

"What happened? Was it your car?" he asks, worriedly stealing a glance at your wound.

"No, it was me. I was freaking stupid for panicking. Some idiot stopped at the red light at the last minute, I wasn't driving fast but I panicked and my car jerked off the road slightly,"

"Jesus Y/N," Jungkook groans, shutting his eyes at the mention of your car jerking off the road.

"It's not that dramatic!" you exclaim, trying to persuade him that there is no reason to be so worried and dramatic, just like you've told him.

"You could've died!" he exclaims back, his rough voice surprising you as you lean in your seat, nibbling on your bottom lip. You could've died. Okay, that's a bit dramatic, you think. "That's it, I'm lending you my car."

"Don't be ridiculous," you scoff, shaking your head at his absurdity. "You need your car."

And it's a freaking expensive car, you can't risk anything happening to it. You're not a bad driver, you really aren't. Things like what happened to you just now, can happen to anyone, even to the most skillful driver.

"I'll think of something," He sounds determined as he says it, starting the engine. "You're not driving that car again."

You scoff at that, chuckling to yourself at his determination. One of the things about Jungkook, good and bad at the same time, is how much he cares about others. He worries too much, especially when it comes to his closest friends and family. It's a very strong trait of his.

"Bold of you to assume that you can tell me what to do," you mutter, feeling a sudden pang to your chest with regret. You know he's just looking out for you, and you appreciate it with all your heart. There's no one else in this world that cares for you like Jungkook does. But you still think he's being dramatic and overprotective.

His hands around the steering wheel tighten, along with his knuckles that turn white as he tries to control himself. You know he hates nothing more than you talking back at him, something you've been always doing to prove your point.

"Look, I know you were scared and I'm so grateful you came all the way here to pick me up. But I'm alive and even though my car isn't in a perfect state, it's driving okay. I'm the one who caused this accident." you tell him softer this time, seeing his jaw still locked in place as he pokes his inner cheek with his tongue.

It's only now that you notice his wet hair, a guilt growing inside of you. He's here being worried about you, dropping everything to get you and you yell at him for being dramatic. To be fair, he kind of is dramatic and even though you realize the risk and things that could've happened, you'd rather not dwell on that too much. It doesn't do any good and now, it seems like you're holding it for both of you.

"Does it hurt?" he asks softly, pointing towards his temple to hint at your wound.

"A little," you shrug, "But I'm fine." you assure him.

Jungkook seems to be deep in thoughts for the rest of the ride, so you don't dare to start a small-talk, nor you're in the mood. You're tired and you're going to work tomorrow anyway. There's no need for you to stay home. Your car is already parked in the parking lot, a guy already from the tow company is waiting for you to give you back your keys. Once that's everything settled, Jungkook agrees to your invitation to come upstairs but you know it's only because he wants to make sure there's really nothing wrong with you. As much as Jungkook is caring and worries too much, you always make sure not to burden him even more and he knows that. You both know each other, know both's intentions and when you look at each other in the elevator, there are amused smiles on your faces. However, there are no words about it being uttered.

Once the jackets are undressed and boots taken off, the warmth of your home welcomes you as you inform Jungkook you're going to change your clothes quickly. He plops onto your couch lazily, just like he always does because he's comfortable in your home just like you're in his. Thinking about him and the time when you spent a few days at his place, you're sure Jungkook would be an amazing roommate. He loves things neat and clean while he likes to cook and take care of laundry. He's a dream man for every woman. He's also very skilled whenever it comes to man's job around the house. You'll never forget how many times Jungkook changed a light bulb for you, he's changing it whenever you need him to at this point.

When you're back, wearing much more comfortable clothes than your work ones, you find him with a phone in his hands while the screen illuminates his face. Once he sees you're back, he tucks his phone back into the pocket of his sweatpants and looks at you. You notice his hair is almost all dried while you still feel a little bit guilty that he rushed so quickly to come get you.

"What were you doing out so late anyways?" he asks, remembering that underneath your thick jacket you were wearing your work attire which could mean only one thing. You were coming out of work which you confirm with your response.

"I was driving home from work."

"So late? Aren't you usually finishing around five?" he scowls, seeing you nod as you offer him something to drink but he dismisses you with a shake of his head. "Were you working overtime again?"

"Yeah, we had a meeting with customers from Japan and it prolonged." you tell him casually, his scowl still not leaving his face.

"Junho should really stop making you overwork that much." he comments. You do agree with that statement but rather than thinking Junho is that evil guy, you know he got the reason for it.

"Well, it's a very busy season and he wants to make sure everything is settled before the holidays. We got this amazing opportunity to have some of our models to be a part of a fashion show in Japan. Thanks to you, by the way. Your pictures are perfect and caught their eyes, your pictures basically got us this deal." you tell him, and for the first time Jungkook seems to beam at your praise.

"Ah, it's nothing." he waves his hand awkwardly, growing shy all of a sudden and it makes you chuckle.

"It's not nothing, you're an amazing photographer Kook." you tell him honestly, smiling at your best friend that grins cutely as soft 'thank you' leaves his mouth, looking in his lap modestly.

Then he glances at you, his smile falling as his eyes linger on your small wound. You snicker, finding his concern both cute and overdramatic. The lightning of your tripod lamp casts over his clear skin and you silently envy him for that, knowing he keeps his skincare routine minimal. You made him put face masks stored in your bathroom more than once, the amount of funny pictures of the two of you looking ridiculous while wearing them is a decent proof of it.

As Jungkook suddenly sighs, leaning his back against the sofa's back lazily, you notice something peeking underneath his hoodie. The fresh red mark contrasts with the color of his skin. Well, you can't say you're exactly shocked to see hickey adoring his skin. Even though Jungkook doesn't mention Kiko that often, and you know it's because of your opinion about her, however, there are times he just has to mention her. Especially when you ask him how his day was and what he did, his answer usually involves three things. Work, gym and Kiko. It's not like you want him to feel like he has to stop himself from mentioning her. Yes, you're still kind of bitter when it comes to the fact he's dating her again after everything she's done, and it's not going to go away. You know you'll never truly forgive her for hurting Jungkook like that. On the other hand, you're not in a place to 'forgive' her because it's not your relationship and it's Jungkook's decision. But as a best friend and a person who loves to have their own opinion, no matter how much it is not your business, you don't like her around Jungkook.

Jungkook notices your silence, turning his head to look at you as he notices your eyes on his neck. Realization hits him like a wave, he doesn't even hesitate about what you're looking at, his eyes widening as he claps his hand around the mark.

"Ah, it's... nothing." he murmurs, cringing at his repeated sentence and voice that indicates his shock and awkwardness.

You snicker, nudging his arm. "It's a hickey, Jeon. Don't be so weird about it," you chuckle, trying to lighten up the mood especially since he seems to be almost embarrassed that you've seen that.

You and Jungkook are super close, the two of you can talk about anything. He's not a typical female best friend whom you'd talk to about typical girly topics. You're close but there are some things and topics Jungkook wouldn't be able to relate to that much, no matter how much he could try. For example, a period topic. He understands you're bitchy whenever it's that time of the month and has seen you in pain more times than you can count, but it's not a topic you bring up during casual conversations or ever. On the other hand, you're very honest with him and maybe it's because he's the closest to you out of all of your friends. He's a perfect example of a person that you can talk to about anything, and he won't be making fun of you because of it.

Jungkook is the same way. He often talks about things he's doing and things that are closer to him than to you. Stuff like gym, boxing, tattoos and video games. However, one thing Jungkook keeps private is his sexlife. He's never been that open about it, especially not like you were. You practically told him all about your sex life before the deal happened. Mutual help as he calls it. Yet, you've never been too embarrassed to talk to him about it.

Partly, him not talking about it is simply because he respects his partner and doesn't go around telling anyone how the sex is. Or his sex life in general. Maybe there were a few remarks about jerking off but he usually doesn't bring it up. He believes it's a topic that is private for him and is comfortable with not talking about it with anyone that he's not intimate with.

Glancing at his hickey, it seems like the world is laughing at you. Here you are, sexually frustrated and even got into a car accident. You want to laugh at yourself, at the absurdity of the situation.

"At least one of us is getting laid." you shrug, stating casually while trying to find at least some kind of light in this tricky situation. Even though the thought of Kiko touching him and being close to him this way again makes you want to vomit. She's beautiful, hot even but that doesn't mean her actions don't speak louder.

"Y/N!" Jungkook gasps, chuckling as he shakes his head at you.

"What? I'm just saying," you shrug again effortlessly, laying back to make yourself comfortable. "This girl has her own needs too." you joke hearing him snicker.

"How bad have you hit your head?" he asks, teasing you as he pats the top of your head as if you were a dog.

You swat his hand away, playfully glaring at him before you sigh. "Shut up, I'm just being honest." you murmur.

"Try tinder or something." Jungkook suggests, met with a raise of your brow as you disapprovingly shake your head.

"Yeah, try that for yourself," you grumble, annoyed at his teasing bunny grin. "I'm busy anyways. I don't have time to go and look around for guys. And I don't want that anyway, I want things to happen naturally. I don't wanna pressure myself that I have to find someone to date, just so I'll have a boyfriend. You know what I mean?"

Frankly, Jungkook knows what you mean. He always did.

"Of course," he murmurs, poking you in your cheek when he sees you pout which you grumble, causing him to laugh.

The two of you talk for a few minutes, Jungkook deciding to give it a night when he sees you yawning every few minutes. He doesn't forget to voice out his concern about your car, saying that you're more than capable and independent to decide on your own. But you know he would rather set your car on fire.

"I'm sorry." you tell him leaning against your front door, bidding Jungkook a goodbye as you watch his brows frown in confusion.

"Sorry about what?"

"For calling you late. I'm sure you had other plans tonight." you tell him, the hickey long hidden underneath the hoodie and his jacket.

"Don't apologize for that," he says with a frown, "I'm just glad you're okay."

And you feel how honest he is. No matter how many times you tell yourself that you don't agree with his decision, hoping he'd decided differently. You know the least thing you can do is respect it for all the things he has done for you from the beginning of your friendship.

There's only one Jungkook and you should be thankful that he's in your life, regardless of what decision the two of you have made or make.

The wound decorating, mockingly said so, your temple doesn't look better the next day. It was expected but there still had been a little hope when you woke up that it wouldn't look as bad. It turns out it looks even worse in the morning when light and sun illuminate the sky. As if it wasn't enough, there is already a bruise creating around the wound looking as if you got beaten up.

You don't care about the bruise, knowing it'll go away at some point along with the pain from the impact of yesterday night. However, you know what to expect as soon as you make it to work. Turns out you're right once again, met with countless worried and shocked expressions from your co-workers but also people you've never talked to, or never realized they work in there too. None of those expressions have been genuine and being in this industry for some time, knowing some of those people, you know they just want the latest gossip and are too curious for their own good.

By the time you come up to your floor, you lose count how many people have asked you what happened to you and faked their concern. The answer is simple and the same every time; 'Just a small accident' is what you say with a tight smile that shows your discomfort, but none of them cares. They're too nosy to be more empathic and to leave you alone.

The only person you expect to actually leave you alone and show you no interest is none other than Yoongi. As much as he proved himself to be annoying, sticking his nose where it doesn't belong (considering all the teasing about Jungkook that he's been doing), you don't actually expect him to care about your little scratch. There couldn't be anything done with it and even though you've put some concealer on the new bruise, it's still pretty much visible. The odds are not in your favor when you notice him across the room, sporting that annoyed look he has every time someone talks to him before he gets to drink all of his iced Americano. But then he looks at you, eyes slightly widening when he sees the bruise but as it came, it's gone before he excuses himself. Surely using you as an excuse not to talk to Sophia who usually needs something when she's talking to someone. You notice her annoyed expression before she walks away with an annoyed puff, smirk curling on Yoongi's lips when he hears it but is luckily turned with his back to her, so she hasn't seen it. Not that Yoongi would actually care if she had seen it.

"Clumsy much?" he jokes, walking towards you looking even more pleased when he sees your narrowed eyes in annoyance. "Did you trip over something or what?"

You fight the urge to roll your eyes at his childishness, debating whether you should strangle or just ignore him. "I had a car accident, you idiot. At least you can pretend to be concerned like everyone else in this building." you grumble at him, attentively looking at his features.

He does look surprised at the new information, surely the news hasn't made it to this floor yet. You know he perfectly understood your words and the hidden meaning behind them. He had shoulder surgery last year and everyone faked their concern about him, just like they're doing with you right now.

You watch his features twist into worry, mouth opened agape as he lets out a dramatic gasp. For a second, you're actually believing he's concerned but then he sets his mouth free and your surprise drops. "Oh my god, is the car okay?" he asks, still faking his concern.

You can't help it but find him funny, chuckling at his absurdity as you shake your head at him. "Fuck off." you tell him, seeing him giving you an amused grin.

"You good?" he asks, tone dropping as he tries to act neutral.

The little smirk appearing on your lips gets ignored by him. "Yeah, I'm good. Hurts a bit but I'm fine."

He nods almost awkwardly, clearing his throat as he looks around the room for a moment. "I'm just asking because Yejun is gone for this weekend again. So if you're not coming to your Saturday shift, you'll have to let me know so I can find someone else to replace you."

You're not sure if he just found an excuse to ask about your condition, but you don't even think about it. When it comes to Yoongi, there are moments where it's better not to overthink his actions and just let him be.

You've got more important things to deal with, like your job. Two jobs that you need and the mention of Yoongi possibly thinking you won't be coming this Saturday to work at the club, you're quick to jump into action. "No, I'm coming." you tell him, met with a puzzled look as he glances at your bruise for a second.

He looks a little baffled at your sudden appearance and the determination to come to work, but doesn't comment on it. "Don't be late." he grumbles, leaving you standing in the middle of the room as he walks away.

The rest of the week rolls quite quickly, the busyness of Junho's demands is just enough to keep you exactly that – busy. Your bruise gets even worse, having shades of red, green and yellow. It takes ten more minutes to your usual morning routine to cover at least some of it. It doesn't hurt that much and you're completely fine, which you're trying to assure Jungkook every day. That man spams you with messages every day, asking you how you're doing and bringing up his car all the time. He's too determined to lend you his car, but you're also determined to turn him down on that offer. On the other note, it's better you don't get to see him face to face, the last time he's seen you was when he came to pick you up, the night of the accident. If he saw your ugly bruise, you'd have to listen to him scolding you all over again.

Good thing he doesn't know about your car being in a car service again. It broke down in the middle of the week, leaving you with no other choice than to use public transport. That adds at least another hour to your morning routine, so not only do you have to take the time to cover your bruise, you also have to wake up earlier to get to work just in time. He'd freak out if he knew you're going off the work alone and late at night.

To say it this way – this week has been one hell of a week and despite you've been barely home, going there just to wash yourself and go to sleep, the last thing you want is to lock yourself there and be all alone. A drink sounds good now and that's why you sit on a bar stool, after changing yourself back to the clothes you came here wearing.

Yoongi looks shocked to still see you there, wondering why the hell aren't you going home when your shift has ended. It's written all over his face and he tells you exactly that, leaning against a bar with furrowed brows.

"I need a drink," you simply tell him, ordering one of the drinks that are written on the menu on the black board behind him. You recognize that drink as a popular pick amongst women that come here.

Yoongi looks a little baffled but goes to mix your drink anyways. "Aren't you driving?" he asks once he's done, passing the drink in front of you.

"Thanks," you tell him, your gratitude and politeness ignored by him as he waits for your answer. "No, my car is in a car service... again."

He's amazing at hiding his reactions when he wants to and he's even better at staying neutral, so you can't tell if he already knew about you not driving to work or not. The truth is, he didn't know. He doesn't pay you that much attention and it's not like he goes around the huge parking lot, looking for your car.

"You're going home by bus?" he asks. You fight the urge to tease him, deciding to leave it for now. It's nice to have a casual conversation, something that doesn't contain work or Jungkook's overdramatic ideas of lending you his car.

"Cab," you answer him simply, your answer followed by a shrug. "I don't feel like waiting at a bus stop in this weather late at night."

He doesn't say anything for a moment, interrupted by one of the customers as he goes back to work. You sit there with your thoughts, enjoying the drink that has hints of pineapple, vodka and something else that tastes sweet and fights the strong taste of alcohol. Yoongi is great at mixing drinks, however you let that praise to yourself and enjoy the drink instead. By the time you barely get to finish your drink, a third guy approaches you trying to buy you a drink as you politely decline. From the corner of your eyes you notice Yoongi glancing at your way, always making sure the customers aren't uncomfortable. It's something you've noticed ever since Yoongi replaced Yejun's absence. You understand why Yejun trusts his brother with his club, knowing it's in good hands while he's away.

"Listen, I'm not interested. I can buy myself a drink." you huff at the man, wondering why they keep coming when all you're wearing are a pair of jeans with a random hoodie you pulled out of your closet today. There are dozens of women wearing short and tight dresses, looking way more appealing than you and your bruise and kind of horrendous outfit.

The man huffs annoyingly, ego hurt by your somehow polite but still bitter decline of him buying you a drink. Free drink would sound nice but you know you'd never get rid of him if you agreed. He wasn't even your type.

"Damn, for a minute I thought I should step in but you got it handled." Yoongi jokes, approaching you as you hand him the empty glass and order another one.

"I got everything handled, Min," you assure him, pursing your lips in amusement as he grins and starts mixing you your second drink. You're not going to lie, it strokes your ego a little bit knowing guys are coming up to you even when you look... like this. On the other side, they all seem drunk and you know that kind of type of man. Looking for someone to sleep with tonight.

Once Yoongi hands you your second drink, he goes up to Mark and talks to him for a second. You pull your phone out of the pocket of your jeans, trying to entertain yourself for a moment by opening an Instagram app. You look at your friends' and people you follow stories, noticing Jungkook posted something too. You're not surprised at the mention of Kiko's account as he snapped a simple picture of a pizza box, captioning his Insta Story with 'pizza saturday night' with Kiko's username. Your curiosity gets the best out of you and you click onto her profile. Let's not act as if you weren't stalking her Instagram account from time to time. Well, you wouldn't call it stalking... more like observing because you're curious. Most of her pictures are of her wearing nice outfits or simple selfies showing her beauty. You notice Hoseok in some pictures too but the newest one she posted just an hour ago catches your attention right away. How could it not when it's your best friend, those doe eyes staring at you as he's biting into pizza, staring at the camera with wide eyes and teeth digging into pizza. You recognize the background as Jungkook's apartment, being there too many times not to recognize it straight away.

She simply captioned the picture with a single black heart, sparking an annoyance inside of you. Not from jealousy, but from the fact she doesn't deserve him. Do all her friends that commented on that picture or even liked it know that she cheated? They surely don't. There are only a very few people who know and it's not something to brag about.

Too interested in the picture and annoyed at Jungkook's girlfriend, you don't notice someone else approaching you until you see a movement beside you in the corner of your eyes. Yoongi plops on the bar stool next to you, shamelessly staring at your screen as you glare at him, locking the phone and stuffing it back into your pocket.

"Stalking your boyfriend, I see." he teases, causing you to glare at him again as you roll your eyes. Stalking is a bit of a strong word.

"Get lost," you grumble at him, "I wasn't stalking."

"Mhm," he hums, pouring himself a shot of vodka as you stare at him with wide eyes. Isn't he working? "The club is closing soon and I feel like you need some company. You've been more grumpy lately, more than usual actually."

Scoffing, you bite your tongue not to deny his assumption because in a way, he's right. You wouldn't say you're grumpy, or more grumpy like he said, you just have a lot on your mind. "Are you sure your company is the one I need?" you respond, taking a sip of your drink as he grins at you.

"What other option do you have?" He motions around him and you look behind you, noticing almost everyone shitfaced as the club is slowly emptying. Even the music isn't as loud as it had been before.

"Go home, so I don't have to sit here with you?" you deadpan, seeing him snorting at you as a grin makes a way to your lips. In other scenarios, if it were with a different person sitting next to you, you'd tell yourself you're rude and shouldn't have responded like that. But you also know it's Yoongi and he treats you the same way. It's just the way you both are with each other.

His own grin tells you that he's not offended, more like amused by your response.

"I'm surprised," he starts, catching your attention once again as you glance at him.

His dark hair almost touches the top of his eyes, the club lights creating shadows on his pale skin as he puts down the empty glass. When did he drink it all?

"Your best friend left quite an impression on Junho, haven't seen that in a while."

You realize, this is the first time he hasn't called Jungkook your boyfriend, but a best friend instead. Deciding it's better not to comment on that, liking that he's not calling him that or teasing you for it.

"Yeah, the pictures turned out great." you nod. There's no doubt Jungkook did an amazing job, everyone in the company knows it and Yoongi is aware of that too. And you're not saying it because Jungkook is your friend.

"I heard thanks to his pictures it got us a deal with Rakuten," Yoongi says, surprisingly sounding casually and quite impressed which is a nice change from the constant bickering and teasing the two of you don't seem to let you.

In your defense, it's not your fault. He's the one who started to be annoying, you're just looking after yourself. Even though his behavior is still irritating, pretty much sparking a new kind of irritation inside of you that you never knew you've got in the first place, it's not as bad as you thought it is and you got used to it. Still, there are times you'd rather strangle him than put up with his annoying ass.

You agree with him, saying that Jungkook is very skillful in many things, photographing being one of them. However, you refrain yourself from praising Jungkook any further, not wanting to give him another reason to think you're obsessed with your best friend or anything similarly absurd that Yoongi seems to be thinking or wanting to tease you about. Despite Yoongi's determination to call Jungkook your boyfriend, even though he surely knows that's not true, there's something telling you he's doing it to purely tease you.

Still, the credit goes mainly to Jungkook, thanks to him the models from your agency get to walk on the runway in Japan. It's the biggest talk of this week (it's even more interesting than your car accident) which you're thankful for.

"So, has the lover boy got back to his ex?"

You don't expect Yoongi to ask such a thing, nor remember the information you've told him some time ago. But then again, it just confirms the assumption about him being attentive and remembers things even if he acts like he doesn't.

"Yeah," you murmur, scrunching your nose a little bit before you can control your reaction, knowing very well he's looking at you. "He's probably getting some as we're speaking." That makes him laugh, an actual laugh leaves his mouth as he reaches over the bar for the bottle of vodka to pour himself another shot.

"You sound jealous." Yoongi comments, mistaking your reaction as you snicker under your breath.

"That he's getting some? Maybe," you admit, the alcohol getting into your head is giving you more courage and you feel more comfortable admitting such a thing in front of him. "Jealous that he got back to his ex? Nope."

Yoongi doesn't spare you a glance, frowning at the glass as he pours himself a shot but you know he's listening to you as he nods. "You do sound a little bitter about it though."

"Yeah, because she's a bitch." you almost spit, taking a sip of your drink before you can let the anger consume you knowing it's mainly the alcohol that makes you so loose-lipped.

"Is she really?" he asks, surprised, gulping the alcohol as if it's nothing and just plain water causing you to cringe. You can smell the vodka on his breath, wondering how he's not already gagging at the taste.

"Yeah, no," you answer quickly, confusing yourself as you shake your head. "I don't know," you sigh, met with Yoongi's dumbfounded look he's giving you.

Well, you do sound dumb right now but it's the confusion and your brain trying to find a way to explain it to him. You don't want to reveal such information about Kiko cheating on Jungkook. Not because you want to protect her, but because you feel sorry for Jungkook. You don't want Yoongi to acknowledge him as a guy that got cheated on. At the same time, it's not your place to tell that to anyone. It's a respectful thing to do for your best friend. Maybe if it wasn't Jungkook, you wouldn't mind that much. Hell, if it wasn't Jungkook and someone else, Jungkook would be the first person you reveal such information.

"The thing is..." you start, finishing your drink as you silently plead Yoongi for making you another one. He sighs, disappointed that you want such a thing from him when you're about to explain yourself.

Too lazy to do it himself, he calls at Mark and gives him an instruction to make you the drink, ignoring your raised brow as he stares at you, telling you to continue.

"She hurt him very badly. I don't think she deserves him." you tell him simply.

For a moment, Yoongi sits while being turned your way, waiting for you to say something else but then when he realizes that's all you wanted to say, his shoulders slouch in a mere disappointment as he gives you an unimpressed look.

"What? What did you expect?" you exclaim, laughing a little at his reaction.

"I don't know? Some juicy stuff? Just when I thought you've got something interesting to say." You know he's partly joking when the corner of his mouth twitches and he tries to hide it by looking away, but you notice it feigning a gasp.

"I'm an interesting person for your information," you clarify, pursing your lips when he gives you an amused smirk. "I am!" you exclaim, causing him to laugh as your laugh is followed right behind his.

"Okay, Ms. Interesting," he scoffs, grinning at you. "You're weird." he comments suddenly, causing you to think about it for a second.

You've never considered yourself to be weird. Okay, there are a few moments when you think you're weird but you wouldn't consider yourself as that. "I'm not weird. What do you mean?" you frown, staring at him in confusion.

Mark places the drink in front of you, smiling when you thank him as he leaves the two of you alone. You notice a lot of people already left but there are still a few people dancing on the dance floor and lingering around, too drunk to stand up and leave. Casual Saturday night.

"Well, you have a best friend that somehow became your fuck buddy, except he's not that anymore. Then he gets back to his ex and you're bitter about it, not only that. You're also bitter that his sex life is better than yours." he explains, somehow looking amused again as you see you dumbfoundedly staring in front of you as you let his words sink in.

"Okay, maybe I'm a little weird," you murmur, making him laugh as you scoff, nudging his shoulder. "Oh, shut up. Also, I'm not bitter that he got back with her. Bitter isn't the word I'd describe myself as. I think annoyed and disappointed is a better description. One, because he's my best friend and I care about him. Two, she probably isn't totally a bad person but she hurt him. Three, he's freaking stupid for letting her back into his life when he deserves better."

Your chest heaves by the time you're done, realizing that those words got out of you in an instant but fuck, does it feel good. Just the fact you told Yoongi out of all people is beyond you.

Just when you expect him to tease you about it, or comment on it somehow, he actually has something rational to say.

"Love makes people do crazy things."

"Yeah, he's like a lost puppy when it comes to her." you murmur, shaking your head at your best friend as you gulp all of your drink.

Yoongi stares at you amusingly. "What about that part of his sex life being better than yours?"

"That part," you start, "is true." you laugh at yourself.

He doesn't mock you like you expect him to. "Well, to your better sex life." he says nonchalantly, however sporting that annoying smirk as he clinks your glasses together.

You'll gladly toast to that, hoping it'll bring you at least some kind of luck.

You're not sure how much time has passed, you haven't checked nor do you care that much. Somehow, you still haven't grown tired or annoyed by Yoongi's presence and actually found it quite intriguing considering you're not in each other's hair. Maybe it's the amount of alcohol you've drank, and the mentioned substance is responsible for Yoongi being talkative more than usual. You both talk about things that don't really matter, still kind of non-personal but you consider it as a success nevertheless.

What's more shocking is the fact that the nightclub located in Itaewon is empty and already closed. It's just you and Yoongi, bonding over drinks that you've lost count. You're not that drunk, just enough to blubber while you're not sure if Yoongi is even listening to you or just acting as if he is.

You're careful not to get completely wasted, and for the first time this week you feel yourself relaxing. Yoongi seems fine too, maybe a little bit lazier than usual but maybe it's because he seems to be more relaxed. He still sticks to vodka, too lazy to make you drink again so you're left with no other choice than to do shots with him. It's your second one, the burning taste of the first one is still fresh on your tongue.

"So, are you and Mark still hooking up?" you ask after a moment of silence, remembering Mark's flushed cheeks and the noticeable shy look he was giving Yoongi the other day.

"What, you interested?" He can't help but tease you, earning the expected roll of your eyes. Is he asking about himself or Mark? Not that it matters, they both aren't exactly ugly.

"As if," you huff, "Just curious." you murmur against the class of your coke, needing a little break before taking the shot in front of you.

It's weird to be in a nightclub that's completely empty, no loud music blasting in your ears. It's kind of relaxing. You almost laugh at your thoughts, momentarily distracted from your conversation with Yoongi because he's taking his time to respond.

"No, we're not. I ended it." He decides to answer. You get the feeling he revealed something he's not sure he wanted to reveal, but he doesn't seem to be too bothered as he takes a sip of his own coke and reaches for the salted chips he pulled from one of the cabinets.

"Why?" you ask, wondering if you aren't being too nosy but you don't get that many chances to pry. And there aren't that many times you're this nosy about him and his life. You can't believe him and Mark hooked up. Not because they're both men, it's not that. Not at all. But somehow the information of Yoongi hooking up with his brother's employee is quite shocking. You're not even sure why.

"I had a feeling Mark is catching feelings, so I ended it before it could end up with a heartbreak." he explains bluntly, as if he wasn't speaking about someone's feelings. Surprisingly, rather than thinking that Yoongi is being cold it's not that thought that crosses your mind.

Despite you and Yoongi working together, you're not super close and don't consider him as your friend. He definitely doesn't consider you as his friend. Somehow the two of you always end up talking (or bickering is a more accurate word). But you think he sounds so blunt because that's who he is. He doesn't show his emotions that much and it's okay. It's hard to tell what he's thinking. And you mean by this is, that instead of thinking that he's cold towards Mark you realize that he put his feelings first. You realize he didn't want to hurt him. Yoongi's words of not wanting to date remind themselves in the back of your mind, making sense why he ended it.

"Did you tell him you're not interested in dating?" you ask, reaching for some chips too as you munch on the salty snack.

"Of course," he almost scoffs, as if you asking this question is ridiculous. "When two people are hooking up, it's bound that one of them always catches feelings sooner or later." he states, surely of his statement as you can't help but disagree.

"That's not true," you shake your head, "Me and Jungkook hooked up and none of us caught feelings."

Yoongi chuckles at that, causing you to frown. What's funny? "Either one of you did or you're both lying to yourselves."

You roll your eyes at that. Again. Another person who thinks you and Jungkook can't stay friends without being in love. To be honest, not all friends hooked up together but your situation is different. You and Jungkook are different, and you're the only ones who understand that. To other people it seems weird, sometimes you can't believe you had sex with your best friend. Many times to be exact. But then you remember when you did have sex and how it felt. And you don't regret it.

"I know it's hard to believe and hard to get through your thick head," You ignore the glare he sends your way, "But Jungkook is very much in love with his ex, well, girlfriend now. Trust me, he doesn't think of me that way or any other women at that."

He stares at you for a moment, you recognize confusion coating his dark and sharp eyes as he shakes his head with a sigh. "Then it's just a matter of time."

"Oh my god, stop," you groan, "Women and men can be friends without being in love. You sound like our friends. You guys just don't get our friendship."

"I'm not saying women and men can't be friends. Okay, maybe you aren't in love with each other. But if you had continued fucking, I'm almost certain one of you would catch feelings," He sounds determined, believing his words as you think it through.

You don't even think of Jungkook that way. It's impossible. He doesn't think of you that way and your friendship is too precious. Before you can think about it any further, you shake your head to shake them off.

"Maybe I'm wrong. I just speak out of my experience. Every person I've been with, I was always straightforward that I'm not interested in a relationship. And it always ended up with someone getting too attached."

"By someone I presume you mean the other person?" Yoongi isn't the type to get attached, especially when he's too determined to let the person he's about to hook-up to know he's not interested in anything further than sex.

"Yes," he answers, shrugging slightly. "Maybe it's just my bad luck." he tries to joke, actually mustering a tiny smile of amusement from you in return.

"Well, me and Jungkook are different. I know it sounds impossible, considering your experience but I don't think it justifies every person who hooks up with someone else. I mean... there are people who just fuck and don't fall in love." you tell him.

He thinks it through for a moment, pursing his lips slightly before he gives you a brief nod. "You're right."

"Oh my, did you just tell me I'm actually right?" you joke, nudging him slightly to his side as he sneers at you.

"Oh, shut up," he mocks you, "But, you've to admit. There aren't many best friends that fuck too. Besides, the two of you looked like a fucking couple."

"Yeah, so I heard," you chuckle. You've heard that quite often from your friends. "I guess we both were lonely. Is it weird that we're completely fine even though we fucked and were too affectionate during that time?"

Perhaps Yoongi isn't the right person to ask that, or even let him judge it in the first place, but you still voice your thoughts wanting to hear his opinion.

"Weird? Fuck yes," he chuckles, noticing the way you shift on your spot with a little frown. "But like you said, only you and him understand each other. I'm just telling you how it looked from an outer perspective."

You nod, pursing your lips in thought as silence overtakes the two of you. If you've seen two best friends suddenly kissing each other and being too touchy in public, you would think there's more between them than just friendship or them being friends with benefits. You kind of get why Yoongi thought you're dating him. No, you definitely get it.

"If he didn't get back to his ex, would you still fuck him?"

The straightforward question surprises you a bit, your mouth opening in shock as you stare at Yoongi who looks genuinely curious, as if he is testing something. Like you said, it's hard to see what he thinks.

Would you still fuck Jungkook if he haven't gotten back to Kiko? Probably. Oh, who are you kidding. Of course you fucking would. The sex with Jungkook has been a wild ride that haunts you till this day. As absurd or weird this sounds, considering Jungkook is your best friend, you wish you had at least one last chance to let him pound you. You said what you said. It definitely has something to do with your sex frustration and knowing Jungkook is a literal beast in bed doesn't help.

Fucking Kiko is probably having the sex of her life right now. It pisses you off. Couldn't Jungkook be average in bed? Does he have to be so fucking attractive? Which you always knew, but now knowing what his abs feel like under your touch or how his dick looks is something you didn't know a few months ago.

"Shamelessly, I'm saying yes," you tell him, ignoring the rush of heat that spreads on your cheeks and you hope Yoongi doesn't notice it in this dim lightning. "Just because he's fucking good in bed and it sucks he's my best friend. I shouldn't think about him this way."

"That's debatable," he muses, causing you to look at him curiously as you silently tell him to elucidate. "You shouldn't think about fucking him because he has a girlfriend. But you also can't really control it since you know what that feels like. He got his girlfriend back and what did you get from fucking him?"

"Some mind blowing orgasms," you answer immediately, too quickly as the answer spills naturally out of your mouth before you can think about it. Yoongi stares at you with a raised brow as you shrug. "I said what I said."

You're not lying though. He really gave you the best orgasms in your life. It'll be hard to compete with that with your future partner.

"You're awfully honest when you're drunk." Yoongi comments amusingly, taking a shot to hide his smirk.

"I'm not drunk, I'm slightly buzzed." Haven't you heard those words before? Weren't you the one saying them? You can't remember, it sounds awfully familiar.

"Somehow I don't think you'd thirst over your best friend if you were 'slightly buzzed'." he says, mockingly emphasizing quotes with his fingers.

"Yah, I'm not thirsting over him!" you exclaim, slapping his shoulder as he hisses at you but still has that annoying grin plastered on his lips. He's enjoying this. "Okay, maybe I am." you add quietly, letting out a dramatic sigh.

"You definitely are," he muses with pursed lips, causing you to be the one who hisses at him this time. "You need to get laid."

"You don't say," you grumble with your nose scrunched. "Are you offering?" you tease him, expecting to be met with a disgusted look on his face or his voice sounding disgusted.

However, you see him actually thinking about it. "Oh my god! Are you seriously thinking about it?" you exclaim, laughing.

"What? No!" he tries to deny, but he shifts on his spot as his facade slowly falls down. Alcohol makes him less expressionless. "So what? This guy hasn't got any action in a while." he grumbles, your eyes almost falling out of their sockets.

Not because apparently, Yoongi hasn't had sex for a while. But because he actually thought about it. Thought about you. The annoying co-worker that irritates him but is fun to tease because he's a little shit. You can't lie, your sex frustration is annoying too. Just the thought of having someone take care of you, sexually of course, is arousing.

"Are you even attracted to me?" you ask, eyes carefully observing him as a little frown of confusion is decorating your face.

"I don't know." he answers with a shrug, causing you to scoff.

"Thanks, idiot," you grumble, seeing him grin in return. You don't understand this guy. "Well, there's only one way to find out." You've no idea where this courage is coming from.

Yoongi looks at you curiously, although there's something telling you he has to at least find you a little bit attractive if he suggested such a thing.

"Kiss me." you tell him, not expecting him to give such a blunt expression. He doesn't look not at least caught off guard as he sucks in breath, looking somewhere behind you before he looks at you.

"Why should I be the first one to kiss you? Kiss me first."

You roll your eyes at his childishness. "You're such a kid," you comment, "Let's do it at the same time."

"Fine," he murmurs, straightening himself as he inches closer to you.

It's weird to look him in the eyes, seeing him up close with the thought that you're about to kiss him. However, your brain is clouded to think about the fact that this is Min Yoongi. The one and only who's been a huge pain in the ass. Alcohol heats up your body, giving you more courage to do this thing and it probably intensifies your need to feel some action.

You're not sure who kisses who first, you two somehow inch close to each other until your lips meet in an awkward peck. You almost cringe, already feeling some type of awkwardness and when you meet Yoongi's eyes, he probably thinks the same thing.

Okay, let's try it again. If it doesn't work, you'll pretend any of this didn't happen. He sees your eyes glancing at his lips, recognizing what you're about to do and he doesn't protest. The kiss is exactly that. It doesn't feel special but it's enough to light up the fire inside your stomach. It feels nice, his lips feel nice. They're a little bit chapped but so are yours from the cold weather. This time it's not a single peck, your mouths moving together.

There's a little bit of tongue and saliva while Yoongi keeps his hands to himself, touching you with nothing but his lips only. You pull him closer, hearing him groan as he presses his lips rougher to yours. Couple minutes of kissing leaves the two of you breathless, Yoongi standing up as he takes your hand and leads you somewhere. You recognize the path as a path to Yejun's office. There's no time to look around properly, you've been here once and that's when Yejun interviewed you, when Yoongi presses his lips to yours.

"So I take it, I am attractive?" you chuckle into the kiss, feeling the edge of Yejun's desk digging into your lower back.

Yoongi's hands are somehow respectfully on your hips, not letting them drop any lower.

"Anything will do," he says, going for another kiss as you pull back and nudge him in the cheek, causing his head to turn to the side slightly. "What do you want?"

"You're ruining the mood, Min," you grumble, "I don't want to do this if you're not sure or feel disgusted by me."

"You think I would kiss you if I was disgusted by you?" he asks dumbfounded. "God, women. This is why I usually hook-up with men." he grumbles, searching your face as you glare at him but there's a tiny smirk twitching in the corner of your lips.

"Don't blame me!" you exclaim, "So... you prefer women too?" you ask timidly, glancing at him who barely has any expression, simply staring at you. "Sorry, I didn't want to assume your sexuality. I just always thought... y'know..."

Considering his little comments about Jungkook, and now you finding out he used to hooking up with Mark, you somehow thought he prefers men. Well, you didn't think about it until now.

"You're doing exactly that," he grins, not offended at all even though he acts like it a little bit. "It's just been a while since I was with a woman."

You nod, biting your lower lip in thought. You're not going to lie, making out with Yoongi made the thought of enjoying this night to the fullest more appealing. Also, you're aware that if the two of you were completely sober, none of this would probably happen. You're not wasted, neither is Yoongi but you're both buzzed. You could taste the vodka on his lips, nothing too strong but the taste is there.

"You wanna continue?" you ask, tilting your head slightly.

"I think I do," he answers, "Do you?"

"Yeah," you nod, giving him a consent he's asking for before you're kissing all over again. It's not too rushed, even though there's no doubt the two of you are aroused. The pace is just fine and it feels like you're both testing the waters with each other.

Deciding it's enough of kissing, you take off your hoodie and toss on the desk behind you, ushering Yoongi to take his own too. He does, showing you his plain white shirt and buffed out chest. You feel bad for wanting to compare him to Jungkook. It's ridiculous, they've different body types. Yoongi still has his own charms. Your jeans follow next, there aren't many words said out loud, both of you taking off your jeans purposely out of one reason. To get each other off. Back in your mind you can hear yourself scolding that this is not you and you've never done this before. Sure, you hooked up with Jungkook but that's different. Maybe you weren't dating him for real, but he's always been close to you in more than one way. Yoongi isn't a stranger but still, you don't know him that well.

But why shouldn't you have fun? You both want this. You've had enough time to think about this, to make sure this is what you want and it is.

Your thoughts are interrupted by Yoongi's fingers brushing against your clothed heat, your breath hitching in your throat at the foreign but also familiar feeling. His fingers feel different, but the feeling of warmth that spreads there is familiar. He rubs you through your panties, luckily you've decided to wear your nice ones which are still kind of plain but at least there's a little lace on the edges. Both of your shirts stay on your bodies, your hands fumbling with Yoongi's belt. Your throat is dry, in desperate need to feel more.

When he hears your whimper, he tucks a finger under the hem of your panties before he looks up at you in question, seeing you nod before you desperately tell him to take them off. He does, cold air hitting your arousal but you're too distracted with pulling Yoongi's jeans down as you see his bulge in his dark blue boxers. You're not going to lie, you're pleased that he's as aroused as you're. You had your doubts though, you don't know why. It's still unbelievable that this is happening.

You cup him through his boxers hearing a soft gasp as you squeeze him. He impatiently jerks his hips into your hand, ignoring the little smirk you make sure he sees. He glares at you, rubbing your clit in circles as it's your time to gasp. He grins at you, raising a brow at you. It's better to ignore him, you think as you pull him out of his undergarments. Your throat gets dry again, too pleased with seeing an actual dick. It makes you sound as if you were a hungered woman for some dick. You're not. Just horny and sexually frustrated.

You give him a few lazy strokes, making sure you spread his pre-cum leaking from the tip over his mushroom head to make it more pleasing for him. You smirk when he groans into your neck as his breath hits your skin there. Suddenly, he drops on his knees looking up at you from the floor as you stare at him surprisingly.

He doesn't say anything, simply spreading your legs as you happily comply. You can't believe you feel an ounce of nervosity when you catch him staring at your heat. There's no doubt he sees your juices spread all over it, he could feel it when he started rubbing your clit. Somewhere back in your mind, you pat yourself for shaving this morning.

"Fuck, it's been a while since I've seen pussy." he breathes out, licking his lips as you stare with widened pupils.

"That's probably the best and only compliment you ever gave me." you muse, sitting further onto the desk as he looks up at you with a mischievous grin.

"Don't get used to it." he mutters, hands grabbing your thighs.

You don't dwell onto this too much, but his touch is more automatic. It feels nice but it's automatic and you can feel that there's no crazed and longed desire for each other. You're there to simply make each other feel good, you're aware that this won't repeat again. It's happening because of current circumstances.

"Wasn't planning to." you point out, gasping when he finally puts his mouth onto your clit.

One thing has to be said. Yoongi is freaking good at using his mouth, making you see stars as you finally feel something other than your own hand (which you've failed at) or the stupid sex toy Jungkook bought for you. It's good to feel someone else touching you. You feel his tongue lapping onto your clit and juices, tasting you. It doesn't take long for you to feel the burn between your legs and the pit of your stomach, your hands slightly nudging away Yoongi's face. It's too soon.

Yoongi looks at you, almost annoyed that you haven't allowed him to make you cum, though still glancing at you with curiosity.

"I want your fingers." you tell him, in a desperate need to feel stuffed. As much as his mouth is amazing, wondering when was the last time he's been eating out a pussy, you need to feel something inside of you. Even if it's not his dick, you've to feel at least his fingers. This way you can pleasure him too.

"Demanding stuff now, I see." he chuckles, but happily complies and stands up to his feet.

You see him licking his lips as he scoots closer to you, sucking onto your neck while you feel his fingers circling your hole. You gasp, not wanting to waste a time as you take his length into your hand and start pumping him. The first moment he enters you with his fingers is unbelievable, leaving you moaning as his dark hair rubs against your cheek, his lips busy kissing your neck. He stretches you good with his three fingers, pumping them fast as he feels you tightening around them.

"Fuck, no wonder your friend kept fucking you."

Perhaps in other situations you feel scandalized that he's bringing up Jungkook into this. Especially if your hand is wrapped around his dick and his fingers inside you. Shockingly, you're not. The thought of thinking about Jungkook in the middle of this makes you even tighter. If Yoongi notices, he doesn't call you out on it and sets an even quicker pace. You do the same thing, his pre-cum making your hand around him more comfortable as you keep jerking him off with faster pace.

Your and Yoongi's moans, along with the slick sounds coming from your heat and Yoongi's fingers, are the only sounds in Yejun's office. Oh fuck, hopefully he won't know about this. Would you get fired if he knew? Will Yoongi tell him? You shake off these thoughts, wanting to enjoy the pleasure while it lasts because you can feel the familiar burn. Chasing after your orgasm, your hand is focused on Yoongi's dick while the other one is gripping his shoulder for some support, while your hips buckle into his hand.

"Fuck, I'm coming."

Yoongi doesn't comment, already recognizing you tightening and loosening the pace of your hand as a sign over you close to the edge.

"Then come." he grunts at you, gently biting into your neck. Few more thrusts of his long and slick fingers, you're coming undone underneath them as you moan out low 'fuck'.

Yoongi slows down his pace and fucks you through your orgasm, his own hips shuttering as you're reminded of his hardened length. It pulsates, still wanting to chase his own end as you grip him harder and start jerking him off. You notice him looking down, not at your hand gripping his dick as you expect him. His eyes are focused on your heat, watching your juices and cum dripping down from your tight hole as his eyes darken. You smirk, spreading your legs wider to let him see.

"You like that?" you chuckle, getting a response in the form of a grunt.

"Fuck," he moans, his hips completely freezing as you quicken your pace knowing he's already there. "Fuck!" he groans, throwing his head back as he's cumming all over your stomach, the skin there hidden by your shirt.

His body almost falls on yours, your arms wrapping around his frame as he holds himself against the edge of the desk. "Fuck, sorry." he murmurs, clearing his throat as he straightens himself.

"What for?" you ask, letting your legs relax as a cold air hits you again.

"I ruined your shirt." he says, pointing at your shirt. You see as the fabric soaks some of his seed, still the very visible stain of his cum.

"I'm used to you guys ruining my clothes," you joke, shaking your head at him when you see him looking at you confusingly. You know what you mean, your little comment mainly amusing you as you stand up.

There's no point in going any further. You're both content with how this ended, the look in both eyes says it all as you give yourselves a nod.

"This won't be awkward between us, right?" you ask, just to be sure. Reaching for your jeans, Yoongi does the same thing as he tucks his soft length back into his boxers.

He hands you your panties, getting a casual 'thanks' from you. "Not if you make it awkward." he simply says, causing you to nod.

This is not the first time Yoongi has done something like this. He's pretty much casual about this whole thing, not looking affected by the fact he pleasured his annoying co-worker, you. You're not affected by it as you thought you'd be too. But still, you can't believe you just gave him a handjob while he ate you out and fingered you. It's better if you don't overthink this, you don't even want to.

"Okay, see you at work?" you ask, putting a hoodie over your shirt as you mentally cringe when you feel the wet fabric.

"Not to look like I'm clingy because I'm not," he starts, "But let's go in a cab together." Oh, right. He has drank so he can't drive. Even though he looks completely fine and it looks like the handjob completely has sobered him up, you both know he drank and it's not safe to risk it.

"Why?" You probably have an idea but you're genuinely curious.

"It's too late for you to go in a cab alone." he simply says, giving you a weird look that tells you 'what's the big deal?'.

Deciding it's fun to tease him, you grin at him as he stares at you dumbfoundedly. "Aw, one look at my pussy and you're worried?" you coo at him.

He doesn't look amused at all, glaring at you as he scoffs. "This is why I mainly stick to dicks." he mutters, already turning around and ready to leave.

"Yeah, because you're one of them." you say behind him, seeing him flicking you off while turned to you with his back.Your evil laugh resounds in the club while Yoongi makes sure everything is in its place and lights are turned off, while you call the two of you a cab. See? It is possible to sleep with someone and not catch any feelings, it can be strictly physical. You and Jungkook are proof of it. And now you and Yoongi are another proof of it. And you don't care what anyone else has to say about it.

#networkbangtan #ksmutclub #btswritingcafe #ficswithluv #bts smut #jungkook x reader #bts angst #bts fluff #bts au #jungkook smut #jungkook fanfic #mutual help #personasintro

748 notes · View notes

lighteyed · 1 year ago

Text

like you'd get your knuckles bloody for me / steve harrington

— steve's not used to people throwing punches for him, you'er not used to throwing them. anything for him, though. always, anything for him. (little short fic moment, fem reader, 1.4k words)

"Dude, your girlfriend is such a badass!" Robin skips into Family Video grinning like a madwoman. Steve, shuffling through the tapes he needs to place back onto the shelves, lifts his head and scrunches his brows together.

"I mean, yeah, but-"

Robin doesn't let him finish, she's already telling him the story. "She was all, wham bam thank you ma'am," she throws multiple air punches and Steve drops the tapes on the floor, "and Jason Carver was all, 'my nose you broke my nose-" she puts on a fake-whiney voice and Steve grips the shelf in front of him, feeling faint.

"I'm sorry, she did what-"

"And she was all, fuck you Carver, and she was totally gonna pummel him again until his friend like dragged her off him and her face hit the pavement, but like, still, she kicked ass-"

"Robin!" Steve shouts, waving his hands in front of her face. She stops, finally registering the disbelief on his face. She covers her mouth. She probably shouldn't have said anything. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"She, um, she didn't tell you?" She squeaks out, she takes a step backwards. "Forget I said anything! I'm sure she'll call you-" She trips over the cart Steve was using to stock the tapes and dashes behind the counter to avoid him, knowing you were going to kill her for saying anything and Steve was going to kill her if she didn't say anything else.

"Hey! Robin!" But she's already clocking herself in and beginning her closing shift duties, refusing to say another word on the topic because she's already said too much without meaning to. He completes the rest of his shift in silence, snapping at customers whenever they ask him a question and losing his mind when he looks at the clock and realizes only ten minutes has passed. He tries to call your house with the store phone but you don't pick up, which makes him even more worried and causes him to snap at people even worse, so Keith cuts him early with a disappointed lecture that Steve only half listens to, and he runs out of there once Keith finally shuts up, pulling out of the parking lot and on his way to your house without a second thought.

When you answer the door for him, you brace yourself for his scolding, 'cause the way he's looking at you, at your scratched face and bloody knuckles, with his soft gaze roaming all over you for any other signs of injury, you can tell he wants to. He wants to scold and lecture and fret. He wants to be mad that you got into a fist fight, let alone a fist fight with a guy who, if he had wanted to, probably could've hit you ten times harder.

He can't really be mad, though. "I didn't know Rocky Balboa was visiting Hawkins," he says, sarcastic but not mean, closing the front door behind him before coming to touch your face with his gentle hands, tilting your head to the side so he can take a good look at your cheek. It's a not a deep scratch, but you're bleeding all the same. He runs his fingers over it lightly and rests his hand there. "What'd you do, sweet girl?" You groan, retreating away from him to grab your bag of frozen peas from the counter and setting them flat across your bruise. He follows behind in earnest.

"Jason Carver can go fuck himself," you grumble. "S'all he does now, anyway, since Chrissy dumped his ass. And no wonder why. I can't stand him." You stare at where you're soaking your cheer uniform in the sink, the white fabric staining pink the more you tried to scrub Jason's blood out. You're opting to soak it out now, hoping you won't have to go buy a new one.

"Okay, what'd he do," Steve corrects, tucking your hair behind your ear.

You hesitate. You don't really want to tell Steve. It wasn't nice, what Carver had said, and in particular, it hadn't been nice to Steve. You weren't sure what had prompted Carver to start going in on your boyfriend, about how Steve was a loser, a deadbeat, pathetic, wasn't going anywhere in life, but it why he'd said it hadn't mattered to you. He'd said that you and you'd seen red, burning blistering red, and you'd punched him in the face before you could really think about whether or not that was a good idea. And you'd gotten him good, too, a nice big wallop to his smug face when he hadn't suspected it in the slightest, and you'd gotten on top of him going for more when his friend had yanked you off him by your ponytail and sent you spinning down to the asphalt. Your face had been gotten good, too. But not as good as Jason's. You were defensive when it came to Steve. You couldn't help it. He was Steve. He'd do anything for the people he loved, he was loyal and defensive and smart (as much as he'd deny that), he was sweet and had never been anything but perfect to you, perfect for you, and if someone had something to say about him, you'd make sure they'd have to answer to you. You'd never let him feel like he didn't have someone in his corner.

"Nothin'," you mutter, not looking at him, looking anywhere but him. "Just usual asshole Carver stuff."

"No, no, you don't get this worked up over nothin', baby." He wets a paper towel at your sink with rubbing alcohol and raises it to your face. "S'gonna sting, okay? Stay still," he puts it against you as soft as he can but you still hiss and draw back in pain. "You can tell me what he did. Need to know so I don't worry about you all night long." Had he put his hands on you? On one of your friends on the team? Something worse? The thought of something worse made Steve's blood run cold. He'd kill Jason himself, consequences be damned, if he'd touched you any type of way.

You scowl. "I don't wanna talk about it, Steve, seriously."

"You can't just not talk about it with me," he frowns right back at you. "If it's that bad you need to tell me. What happened? Please," he pouts his lip at you and you can't resist, you're melting in his hands, you're giving him whatever he wants the second that plush lower lip juts out at you and his pretty brown eyes go heavy-lidded and tragic-looking. You lean forward and kiss his protruding lip, wrapping your arms around his waist.

You press your face into his shoulder and murmur against his shirt, "He was talkin' bad about you, okay?" He pulls away, brow furrowed.

"Talkin' bad about me?" He places his hands on your shoulders. "Baby, you don't haveta get worked up over me, okay? And don't go throwing punches for me, Christ, you can't do that." He runs a hand through his hair, and there he goes, hands on hips, like he always does when he's worked up and stressed over something you or the kids are doing. "I don't care what he said, okay?" His hands go back to your shoulders, he's looking in your eyes, deep and distraught. "I don't care you. You don't go throwing punches for me. 'M not worth all that."

You push him off you. "Don't say that! That's not true, you're worth it! You'd do it for me, why can't I do it for you? You deserve it, too." Steve goes quiet. "You're worth it, okay? Don't be stupid." You press the frozen peas harder to your hand.

"I still don't like you fighting," he relents, and you know you've got him in the palm of your hand, he could never stay mad at you, not really, but his brows still knit together with worry. You smooth out the crease in them with your good hand and he softens exponentially with a sigh, leaning into your touch.

"As long as no one talks shit about you, I won't be," you pinch his cheek and he laughs. You'd die for that sound.

"Yeah, yeah, cool it, Rocky," he teases.

"Shut up!" You hit him with your bag of peas.

He grins, and he can't help it, he's a little proud, thinking about you punching someone in the face for him. Knuckles bloody for him. Making sure he knows he's worth fighting for. His heart swells at the thought.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington #stranger things

1K notes · View notes

one-vivid-judgment · 9 months ago

Text

You know what I love about the Ichigang? That they were all alone and at rock bottom at some point, with no one to rely on for support:

- Nanba wanted to be like Nightingale, but then got fired because he took the fall for someone else, who ended up having lied to him for her own benefits. His brother was being watched by the Geomijul and then disappeared; Nanba spent a long ass time homeless and not knowing if his brother was alive or not.

- Adachi lived with the Kusumi incident in his conscience for years, hating Horinouchi's guts and hoping to find something to take the guy down. First he's demoted to the license center, then he's straight up fired. No job, no retirement, man never got married or had a family. The Barkeep even says he's "not usually a happy drunk" and that "it's the first time in a long time I see him smile like that".

- Saeko's family life is a DISASTER. Her mom died, her sister wants nothing to do with her (to the point where they were both working for the same guy and Nanoha EXPLICITLY told Nonomiya not to tell her sister about it, even when things were tough and she could've used Saeko's help), her dad is old and dying. She is on her own and basically only has her girls and Nonomiya—until Nonomoya dies, and she's conflicted cause sure, he wasn't the best guy around, but he was still there for her when she needed, and now he's gone.

- Yeonsu's life, man. Yeonsu's fucking life. His dad was a drunkard who abused his son and cared about him so little that he had no qualms basically giving Yeonsu up as tribute to the Jingweon mafia to turn him into their leader's double—mind you, this means he could've been killed at any point. He basically lived as the shadow of someone else for years, never being seen for himself but for Joongi Han.

- Zhao's Liumang leader status was passed down from his dad. He was doing a good job although he's clearly more passionate about cooking and having his restaurant—that he doesn't mind a simpler life and even EMBRACES it and gets angry when anyone suggests he's "just some chef". He still lead the Liumang though. And then his men and right hand turn on him and try to get him killed and what do you know, suddenly there is nothing anymore.

- Seonhee was a kid when the whole Jingweon mafia shit show happened and then it all came crashing down. Her people who managed to escape alive were left on their own and abandoned until the Geomijul was created.

- Even Eri, the optional party member, was in a similar situation. She was tricked by Hosho and her company was at the verge of shutting down, and when she thought she had a chance to get back on her feet thanks to Nonomiya's help, she finds out he died, and basically, as far as she knows, all hope is lost.

And then, Chitose and Tomizawa. I feel they are the perfect example of how easy it is to stray and go down the wrong path when you are in that type of situation, and how even the tiniest kind gesture can do wonders to you:

- Chitose was a sheltered rich girl whose whole life was dictated by her parents. She craved the independence and the freedom and she wanted CONNECTION—which is how she ended up falling in Eiji's trap and being blackmailed for years and manipulated into using people who actually cared about her and with whom she was finally developing that connection she always yearned for. As far as she knows, said people will push her to the side as soon as they find out about her betrayal, and then she'll be alone again.

- Tomizawa was living the live with his girlfriend, a nice job and a kid on the way—until Dwight and the Barracuda pinned their crimes on him. He went to jail, Marie lost the baby and then disappeared, he's blacklisted from every bank and had to go to Yamai for help with his debts, and after that, he basically became a puppet who did everythint Yamai asked him to out of fear. He hates himself for being a coward who's not able to pull the trigger even when it's necessary, and he blames himself for everything that happened. He is a horrible person in his own eyes, and as far as he knows, there is no getting out of this situation.

And then there is Ichi, who has seen nothing but rock bottom for so fucking long but still manages to see the bright side of things. He is a good person, sometimes borderline stupid and his choices end up making his superiors (aka Sawashiro) mad. But it doesn't matter how much life beats him down, he always gets back up because he has that "once you hit rock bottom, the only way is up" philosophy. And, although some of his friends have used him for their benefit or straight up assaulted him, Ichi never turns his back on them. Because he KNOWS how it feels to be alone and to not have anyone there for you, anyone that you can rely on, and if he can be that someone, then he WILL be. If he can change a single person's life, he WILL.

Anyway, I love the Ichigang so much and these are the kind of thoughts I have about them at 1 a.m

#ryu ga gotoku #yakuza like a dragon #like a dragon infinite wealth #lad infinite wealth #yakuza 8 #ichiban kasuga #yu nanba #koichi adachi #saeko mukoda #joongi han #tianyou zhao #seonhee #chitose fujinomiya #eric tomizawa #man i love the ichigang so much #something so endearing about a bunch of middle aged weirdos finding a family in esch other

245 notes · View notes

pruneunfair · 2 months ago

Text

Manhwas except the villainess is the protagonist.

Groundhog Duchess, FL: Rhyse Sinclair. Tone: psychological horror (Not your typical reincarnation story)

Rhyse has achieved everything she could've ever wanted, she found a loving family, she has supporting friends, the woman who schemed for her downfall is dead, and now she's married to her husband Cliff as the new Duchess Rudwick! Until she woke up in her bed, the dates set back to where she started, living in her abusive family home where she laments that it was just a dream.. and then her dream comes true! Finally, she's achieved the happiness her dream foretold. Right after her wedding night she wakes back up, in her childhood home with her abusive family. It keeps happening over and over, no one believes Rhyse when she tries to speak out. There's something pulling the strings, something keeping her from speaking on her accord. She begins to avoid the Rudwicks, hoping that it would end this teasing nightmare but no matter where she goes, she always ends right back into Cliff and Killians arms, back to being tormented by Edith, back to a life that will always be taken away from her right when she's at her highest and with each passing time, she starts to lose more of herself and becoming more and more spiteful and bitter. Will Rhyse finally be able to put an end to this cycle and achieve a happy ending that lasts forever with her unexpected ally?

the flowers from another world, protagonists: Robelia and Aisha Tone: Comedy (Divorcing my tyrant husband)

Aisha had it all. She was the pampered consort of the tyrannical Alexandros and on her way to becoming the next empress, a major improvement from her boring life in Korea. She never wanted to leave, that is until mysteriously all the love and attention she would bask in has disappeared.

The once quiet and obedient empress Robelia was all of a sudden Alexandros love again! One by one Aisha starts to lose everything, all her allies turned on her and none of her endeavors had a chance to succeed not to mention Robelia has been nothing but insufferable the entire time. When Aisha finally confronts Robelia on her sudden change in behavior the two argue further until Alexandros shows up. Much to Aishas dismay, he only assists Robelia but somethings odd.. Robelia doesn't seem to be enjoying ANY of the attention..? Huh, odd. Who wouldn't want to be adored by a man who would do ANYTHING for you? Well it turns out Robelia is also from the same world as Aisha and she's been acting the way she has so she can divorced and live away from the nobles. The women come to an understanding in their commin goal and as frenimies they go on misadventure after misadventure to restore Aishas plot powers so Robelia can easily get divorced and leave. But the more time Aisha spends with Robelia, the more she sees from her point or view and she starts to wonder if Alexandros is even worth it?.

Two birds on a wire, FL: Claudine Van Brandt, tone: drama+tragedy (cry or better yet beg)

As far as Claudine could remember she was reminded that everyone has a destiny to fulfill in the aristocracy and hers was to marry and bear heirs. All Claudine really wanted in life was a carefree one where she got to live in luxury and enjoy the finest of all so to please her family and live her ideal life at the same time, she chooses a long time acquaintance, the Duke of Berg, Matthias Herhardt. Despite her fiancé's strange behavior Claudine was fine with how things were until she starts to notice Matthias take an interest in someone else.. the niece of one his employees and a girl she knew back then: Layla Llewellyn. Suddenly everything begins to feel as if it's falling apart. Claudine guaranteed luxurious life is now at stake and she's willing to do what it takes to achieve it! But what about Layla? No, why should she care? She's the one who's wreaking Claudines home, if she'll become collateral damage then she deserves it for flirting with someone else's man.. until she learns of what kind of psychological damage Matthias is inflicting on Layla, Claudine terrified now: if she marries that man then who knows what he'll put her through, screw her luxurious life and her families desires she needs to escape now!.. but not before she breaks Matthias and Layla up and free the poor girl she wrongfully accused, that is if Claudine isn't already too late.

the human saintess, FL: Diana tone: romance+ self growth (For my derelict favorite)

Diana is a saintess of common origins, with no one reconginizing her due to her lack of status a miracle in the form of two handsome men grant her the chance to finally use her healing powers for the good of the common folk, all seems well until one of her friends Cael reveals that he killed their enemies for her in the name of love. It seemed sensible at the time that she rejected him harshly and told him to leave. With only one man left she chooses Helios as her husband and becomes the crown princess. Now that she's a noble, Diana must learn how to act as one even if it means restricting some of her power to the poor. All Diana wants is to be accepted, to finally receive some payment after all that hardwork she'll even ignore news on Cael if she has to, he must be doing better anyway now right?. Well, not exactly. By ignoring any news about him Diana never realized that Cael had attempted suicide more than once, but what could she do? By the time she finds out she also learns that Caelus is married so it should all be fine.. until Caelus's new wife Hestia keeps harassing her for her faults, she just won't leave! But Diana can't say anything, she's the saintess! She HAS to be good.. but to who? The nobles or the commoners? Why can't it just easy for once!?

Slowly but surely, Diana will learn that even if she's a saintess, she's still a person and as a person, she makes mistakes, some big and some small. If she wants to get any better she has to make things right. Starting with the people she neglected below.

into the dark forever, FL: Marianne Edenverre, tone: self destruction.

All her childhood Marianne had been nothing but bad fortune. Her mother treated her terribly and even living as the 5th princess did little to differentiate from her previous homelife. All her new half siblings refuse to treat her as human for her status as an illegitimate child except for the 4th princess Alisa, the bright bundle of joy that made her feel welcome.However, a single person cannot make up for the mistreatment, especially if that person is the star of the family. Why can't Marianne have that? Who does Alisa even think she is!? Is she taunting her? Marianne won't stand for that disrespect, she suffered enough hasn't she? When is she gonna get her paid her dues? If God won't pay her then she'll just have to steal it herself so Marianne summons a demon to give her the help she needs. All of a sudden, everyone loves her! She's the star of the show and now Alisa is the scapegoat, finally, now the 4th princess will know what it feels like to be ostracized but when that doesn't work, Marianne decides to just arrange her death instead. There, no more Alisa, she's finally the most adored girl in Edenverre... wait, Alisa has been reincarnated into the princess of a enemy empire? Well Marianne can't let that stand idly by, she needs to get rid of Aisha de Elmire now, no matter what it may cost.

Project Leila, FL: Yvonne Eckart, tone: coming of age tragedy.

After getting lost during a festival, Yvonne loses her not just her brothers and father but her sense of self, she had been possessed by the goddess Leila and its been relentless in its pursuit to possess her. Yvonne waited and waited for her father to come and find her, she wouldn't let Leila break her spirit but when she finds her father taking another girl in as her replacement, Yvonnes heart drops and she almost loses all hope and Leila almost succeeds.. but Yvonne is able to snap out of it at the nick of time, it was a close call but the pain of abandonment never did go away. During the remaining years, Yvonne never bothered to go back home anymore, they seemed to like that purple haired girl anyway and surprisingly Leila wasn't so bad to talk to as it was the perfect being to vent to. Day by day Leila keeps trying to trick Yvonne into letting it possess her but she always stands her ground and declares that she'll never affiliate herself with the likes of the goddess. But when Yvonne is found and arrives on Penelopes coming of age ceremony, it becomes tempting. All Yvonne saw was the girl who stole her life but the real monsters may have been more close to home then she thought. Just how toxic did her family become and will she be able to resist Leilas temptation?

The concubines woes, FL: Diane Poitier, tone: female rage+self reflection (I will abdicate my title as empress)

Diane Poitier had been a patient girl. After losing everything at a young age she had been determined to never let that happen again when she becomes the Emperors concubine. He has no wife, she's is the owner of the Ivory palace, and she resembles his deceased mother, the cards should have all fell in place, but they never do. The Emperor instead marries the crown princess Adelaide of Kotrov. Just like that Diane feels everything crashing down around her so she makes an enemy out of Adelaide, belittling her and trying to drive a wedge between the new married couple so she can return to the escapism of knowing she's the Emperors one and only. Yet with all the grievances she causes, Adelaide never sees Diane as an enemy, if anything the empress is the kindest to her then anyone else has ever been, one side of Diane wants to keep pushing until Adelaide snaps but the other is weeping so much it can't come up with the words. Why is she even doing this? What will this get her? Will the Emperor even marry her at all when he gets divorced? Why is she being this way to the one woman who has shown her kindess?These are the nagging questions the keep Diane up at night.

Divorcing your husband, FL: Sumin Jeong, tone: comedy (Marry my husband)

Sumin will never admit it but she's been a snake in the grass for most of her life, she can't stand seeing her friend Jiwon happier than her so what better way to ruin her life then to sleep with her husband while Jiwon is terminally ill? Well.. Karma inevitably catches up to Sumin and she is killed by the very same man she slept with after he accidently murdered Jiwon to eliminate any witnesses. Instead of waking up in heaven or hell, Sumin is back 10 years ago! Does she even deserve this? Of course she does! How could someone so deserving like her not? It turns out though that she lost a little something along the way.. her charisma! It's been stolen the moment Jiwon died and when Minhwan killed her. Without her cutesy baby act no man will just crumble when she says "Oppa!" Sumin actually has to work for what she wants now, and the only 2 men who are still willing to adore her are her killer and older co worker who has a thing for her childish talk, jeez were her co workers always this terrible? Whatever, she'll play into Minhwans hand for the time being.. after all, she could use a little life insurance from him.

Golden cage, FL: Rashta Ishka, tone:tragedy+female rage (remarried empress)

The tragic tales of a girl sold into slavery and the men who take advantage of her. Most strived for beauty but Rashta hated it, her beauty was a curse and it drew in all predators who wanted to take a bite out of her. The first man who fell for her was one of her masters who currently raises their child, the second is the Emperor of the empire who loves her like a hunter loves their trophies they caught and the third is the most charming yet manipulative of them all. During the duration of one year, Rashta navigates the life of a concubine and later empress. The ladies in waiting hate her for displacing their empress, the men desire her for her innocent beauty, her former master blackmails her, and her idol: the empress won't even turn an eye to her direction, her only hope is to keep going with her role of the prey Sovieshu caught. Keep acting cute, keep speaking in 3rd person, she doesn't even have to learn much etiquette if it means Sovieshu will find it charming. Slowly, she is picked apart by everyone in her life and the only people who could've helped her have been pushed away. There's no saving Rashta, she's already trusted too many of the wrong people and made too many mistakes but maybe when her children grow up and learn their mothers story they'll be the voice to put an end to slavery and grant the next generation the future she always wanted.

Aim for the throne, FL: Isabella de Mare, tone: suspenseful drama (Sister I am the queen in this life)

Isabella may be her families favorite but that alone isn't enough. She knows her worth as a woman only means so much and as much as she loved her mother, she refused to end up like her as a de-facto wife of a mere cardinal. No, if she only mattered for her beauty than Isabella was going to use it to it's fullest: she wants to become queen of San Carlo, but when her half sister Ariande comes to live with the family, the new competitor meant buisness and had already earned their fathers favor much to Isabellas annoyance. What was supposed to be a subtle warning is quickly figured out and it turns out Ariande isn't as dumb as Isabella thought. Throughout the years that follow, both sisters clash and plot to rise up the ranks. Isabella becomes a renowned beauty engaged to prince Alfonso and Ariande becomes reserved but most devoted to her religious studies, earning her privileges with the clergy. This has been Isabellas most formidable foe yet and she's willing to go to lengths of murder to secure her destiny as queen of San Carlo. Little does she know.. the golden rule cares little about beauty.

Black widow, FL: Krista, tone: thriller drama (remarried empress)

Out of all the ways it could have happened why this?, Krista was already deposed of her position of queen as expected when her husband died but with her positive reputation with the people and her brother in law remaining single, Krista was confident she'd stay as the beloved queen of the west. Oh, Heinrey brought in the former empress of the east to be his wife? Well she can't be shocked, the kingdom does need heirs after all, Heinreys starting to establish his fiancé as queen already? It's fine.. maybe he'll let her stay with them instead of sending to her to compshire to mourn for the rest of her life besides, she'll always have her loyal ladies in waiting. Wait no.. most of them are already defecting from Krista to the new queen.

Krista is losing everything and her foolish family isn't helping her case, all she has left is the peoples support for her but even that is fleeting!? What? Of course.. his majesty has stated he'd fill the mouths of those disrespectful to the new queen with rocks and sew it shut, it must've scared everyone into submission. Everything is on line now, Krista's father is continuously pushing buttons he shouldn't be pushing and when Krista's brother attempts to kill Navier, all fingers point to her as his accomplice. If Krista wants to clear her name she's gonna have to play the hard way and put on an act like she's loyal to Heinreys new wife and hope that the Heinrey doesn't execute her to protect Navier.

#I'm not great at coming up with titles #remarried empress #sister i am the queen in this life #cry or better yet beg #for my derelict favorite #into the light once again #not your typical reincarnation story #marry my husband #death is the only ending for a villainess #divorcing my tyrant husband #i abdicate my title of empress #the remarried empress

63 notes · View notes

jackhues · 11 months ago

Text

you can miss it - mockingbird! au (platonic! hughes)

requested by: @rowdyhughesy

summary: in which y/n wonders what life could've been like if her parents were better

notes: continue sending in requests for the au! check out the request rules below! thanks for requesting <3, this takes place in may/june. 2024

likes are good, reblogs are better <3

mockingbird! au request rules!|| mockingbird au! masterlist

gif not mine

"how about your aunt from colarado?" you asked, going down the list of random hughes members you'd heard of.

"which aunt?" jack responded.

"the one that gifted ellen that green vase," you reminded him. "are we inviting her to the wedding?"

jack thought about it, "i mean, we can invite her. i don't think she'll come honestly. she's like my mom's something cousin, i can't remember."

"we'll at least invite her," you decided, jotting that down on the second list.

you and jack were sitting on the couch in the lake house, trying to get together the final guest list for your wedding. there were still a few months left, and most invites had even gone out. but with so few people coming from your side, there was still space for more of jack's relatives.

"do we have to invite her?" luke asked, sitting on the floor in front of the couch. "she's always complaining and telling me to cut my hair."

"it's her or aunt griselda," quinn told him, leafing through the invites. "take your pic."

luke made a face, "neither is better, but i'll take the green vase lady."

you and jack shivered, remembering 'aunt griselda'. she was just some random neighbour or something who called herself the boys 'aunt', and often pinched their ears. she was not fun.

"wait, do you guys even know the green vase lady's name?" you asked the boys.

luke looked at jack, who looked at quinn, who tilted his head in thought.

"honestly, i have no idea," he realized. "we've always just called her aunt, or that one from colorado."

"well, i guess we're not inviting her," jack took the list from your hands and crossed out 'colorado aunt'.

you sighed, wondering what it would be like to have so many relatives that you didn't even know their names.

after cutting contact with your dad, your mom decided she didn't want to talk to you either. you had a feeling your mom was left no choice by your dad, but sometimes you wished she'd pick you over him.

if you had a better relationship with either of them, then you'd have someone to walk you down the aisle.

you loved jack and his family, truly. they were everything you didn't have growing up. but sometimes, you just wished you could've had that feeling of love your whole life.

you wished that your dad cared about you, that your mom tried harder for you, that they both loved you and showed it.

you dreamed of them being present on this big day, with smiles on their faces and tears in their eyes. you dreamed of your dad warning your husband not to hurt you, but then hugging you both and saying he wouldn't trust anyone else with his daughter.

you dreamed to have an uncle who was going to drink more than he should and then flirt with his wife, you dreamed to have cousins who'd be dancing even after the music was off, you dreamed to have little kids who'd hide in your dress and ask you not to leave with your husband.

they were such small things, but it seemed to hit you that you weren't going to have these moments.

all because your parents failed you growing up.

jack nudged you softly, "what's on your mind?"

you looked up, snapping out of it. "nothing."

it wasn't anything. you'd chosen to give up contact, and they'd chosen to pretend you don't exist anymore. you'd accepted that, and you were okay with them not being in your life.

"y/n, you've been a part of this family for years now, and you're going to legally become a part of this one in only a few months," quinn looked up. "even if it's stupid, you can tell us what's on your mind. i assure you, jack and luke have stupider things on their mind at any given moment."

you smiled as luke threw a pillow at quinn, ducking quickly to avoid retaliation.

"i was just being emotional," you shrugged. "like, growing up, i always thought my mom and dad would be here, on my wedding day. i didn't expect much from them, but i imagined them being there and being happy for me. i guess i always dreamed of our relationship becoming better by that point. but now... it's not like i want all of the stress again. it wasn't healthy and i don't regret cutting them out. i just, sometimes i wish they were better parents."

your voice grew soft at the end, but you realized how much better you'd gotten at communicating. before meeting the hughes, you'd often bottled everything up. you never spoke your mind, and you were forced to keep your opinions to yourself.

but now, you were proud at how well you'd explained your rambly thought process to the boys. you wished you'd had the love of parents growing up, but you didn't want them back in your life right now.

quinn smiled a little, tapping your hand in comfort.

"just because they weren't good to you, doesn't mean you're not allowed to wish they had been," he said.

"you're allowed to miss them," jack assured you. "you can miss them, and not want them in your life because of everything they did. there's nothing wrong with that."

"we're always going to support you, y/n/n," luke promised. "whatever you want, whatever you feel. we're here."

you smiled, wiping the corners of your eyes. "you're all so sweet and mushy, you're making me cry. oh god, i'm going to end up ruining my makeup on my wedding day because of you three."

"there's still months until that," luke waved it off. "we'll be sure to be even more sweet and mushy and get all the tears out before the wedding day."

"god, i love you three idiots."

---

tags:

@svechnikovvv , @hockeyboysarehot , @mysticaldonkey , @lam-ila , @babydollmarauders , @starjoyyy , @moldenhauers , @hischierdevils , @jackhughesily , @equallyshaw , @power2myheart , @lynnismypseudonym , @beccaiscold , @akengii , @hischierhaze , @cinnamonpancakes , @luvmmarner , @lifeofpriya , @marshmallow-babe , @starsandhughes , @thatoneblog , @hughesmedicine , @qwanelledingele , @mindless-rock , @ireadthensuetheauthors , @huggy-hischier94 , @slaythehousedownboots , @diary-of-jj , @fandom-oneshots-etc , @ajbird18 , @cherrysodadevils , @cixrosie , @xcicix , @wbkz3gras , @cole-mcward48 , @idontlikelizards , @bitchy55 , @privatemythss , @shaysucksatlife , @dancerbailey3

join my taglist!

378 notes · View notes

captainwinterrsoldierr · 5 months ago

Note

part two of the apollo fic??

YESSS!!!!

Part one!

Apollo/Lester X Reader

Warnings: Mention of Death, violence

"She'll wake up soon Lester."

"What- what if she doesn't!"

You heard familiar voices near by. Your head pounded. Your body ached but you were alive. The last thing you remembered was confessing your undeniable love to Apollo. And then you were out. Total darkness was the next thing you can only remember.

You slowly opened your eyes to the bright light. You laid in a medical cot in what looked like an infirmary. Your eyes slowly adjusted and you spotted Apollo and Meg turned away from the bed. Apollo looked shaken up as always. Meg stood with an arm on his shoulder. Doing her best to comfort him.

"I love her Meg, I wish I could've told her sooner but with Jason dying.... I was too scared to admit my feelings. It seems as though anyone I love or care about always meets with a tragic ending." You couldn't see quite well but you could hear his broken sobs.

You mustered as much energy as you could, "Who are you calling a tragic ending?" You jokingly coughed out. Apollo and Meg whipped their heads to you and gasped.

"Y/N!" Apollo jumped and raced to your side. He wrapped his arms around you with caution. Meg sat at the foot of your bed, "I'm happy you're safe Y/n, also so Apollo could stop crying. He's been crying non stop for a week."

Your eyes widened. A WEEK!? You were out cold for a week! "How am I even alive?" You mewed weekly.

Apollo looked down in sadness in recanting the awful memory. "You honestly barely were. Meg, Don, Lavinia and I. Well more the others rushed you into camp. The healers truly think its a miracle you're alive."

You frowned, "I am sorry for causing so much of a panic."

Apollo laughed, "Sunshine you took 3 huge gashes from an Eurynomos, saved my life and you're apologizing for getting hurt. No wonder I love you."

You felt your face heat up rapidly, and no it was not because the sun god was literally sitting next to you. Meg was reading the room and stood up, "I am going to let you two talk about your feelings... and stuff ya know bye." She left and you could've sworn at the door of infirmary outside, stood a unicorn. Weird.

"I am sorry for worrying you though Lester, I didn't mean to cause more stress especially well after Jason."

Apollo grabbed your hand, "I don't want to lose anyone I care about again like that. I thought I lost you forever. My heart couldn't stand it. You are so special darling."

You blushed, "and we are at camp jupiter right?"

He nodded, "New Rome to be exact, I think you will like it here. A safe haven for you demigods. When you feel better I was uh thinking maybe we could uh ya know get a coffee or uh,"- He steered off his hand rubbing the back of his neck. As Lester you can see how flustered he got. It was his turn now to turn bright red.

You smiled gently and took his hand, "I would absolutely love to." Apollo smiled and rubbed his thumb on the back of your hand. Your heart thumped as he leaned in closer and closer.

In a turn he placed a small, meaningful kiss on your cheek. That alone could've had you melting. "Let me go get the healer so we can do your daily healing session, then maybe we can go on our date after darling."

You giggled and nodded. Happy and grateful to be alive in this very moment.

#lester papadopoulos #trials of apollo #apollo x reader #apollo imagine #apollo fanfic

60 notes · View notes

verdemoun · 3 days ago

Text

idk marstons and morgan angst

i fully believe that when john stops and goes 'what was her name? mary?' when arthur tells him not to live two lives in the sheep and the goats - he was about to bring up eliza and isaac and had to stop himself because as angry as he was he knew it would kill his brother

jack's drawing is him, abigail and arthur all happy with their sheep ranch - no john in sight. he originally drew it for abigail, who suggested he give it to arthur to avoid john seeing it. of course, john did in 1907 when he was ready to look through arthur's satchel, and immediately knew it wasn't him. felt he deserved it - and wondered if they would have all been happier if he and arthur switched places that night

at least once, but probably a lot more than once, in 1907, abigail didn't wish but wondered what her life would have been like if arthur had been the one to get off the mountain instead of john, and if arthur had recovered. she never loved arthur like she did john, and never would, but deep down she wondered just how happy they could have been together.

arthur would have treated her right and respected her, married her, encouraged jack's reading and writing and wouldn't have gone after fucking micah. he might've hated her cooking enough to offer to cook for them, and she could've escaped the wretched task. evenings could've been the three of them, comfortably sitting around a fireplace, listening to jack read aloud

especially when it was just her and jack bouncing around after proghorn ranch, jack would often catch her looking out the window and sighing sadly as if she could see the peaceful little house with horses and sheep, and jack smiling and happy learning from his devoted proxy father. he also learned this was a great time to ask about stories about the old days, the gang, and learned most of what he knew about uncle arthur during that time period.

after 1911, when abigail got sick, jack would read to her constantly. one picked up his father's journal one day, expecting to find stories from when they were young and in that pathetically sappy young love phase before he was born.

it wasn't until he reached 'abigail and marston keep arguing' that he realised it wasn't just his father's journal. realizing at the same time, abigail let out a shuddered gasp and asked him to keep reading. she had always held onto the past so much more affectionately than john had, and hearing arthur's inner thoughts was as comforting as him being in the room.

just for a second imagine abigail marston laying sick and dying, with tears of joy in her eyes as jack shows her drawings arthur did all the way back in 1899 of her 'in her prime', and a young jack, quick sketches almost like photographs

jack's voice cracking as he reads arthur's last entry, that desperate, deliberately heavy pencil writing 'john, protect abigail and jack', knowing he would, and did, only to turn the page to handwriting he recognizes again.

not getting the chance to finish reading it together, but one of the last things abigail gets to see before her mind is completely gone is john's excited, wonky, capital letters I'M GETTING MARRIED and knowing she'll get to see him again

#i'm sorry class #john marston #abigail roberts #jack marston #hey moss how's rdr1 treating you SHUT UP I HATE THE GOVERNMENT AND I LOVE MY WIFE

36 notes · View notes

codfanficedits · 1 year ago

Text

Final tribute

If you're looking for a sign to stay alive, this is it.

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x fem!Reader

Summary: Suicide.

Wordcount: 4968| Rating: E (18+ only!)

Warnings: SUICIDE, mentioning of self-harm, mentioning of shoplifting, mentioning of a fucked up childhood.

A/N: Today (third of November) marks the 9 years anniversary of my best friend killing herself. It has taken me years to come over the guilt, and even 9 years later I still wonder if I could've prevented this. But I couldn't and she is gone. In a way I hope she'll live forever through me and my stories. We were teenagers, having to cope with shit that adults couldn't even cope with. I love you and even though you'll always stay 19 you're still my best friend. Until we meet again. A/N 2: If you're struggling yourself. Please know that life will be worth it, the sun will shine on you too one day, and you'll find the joy in life once more. I've struggled with suicidality and sometimes I still do. But. It. gets. better. I promise.

The silence lingers in the air as he sits on the chair next to your bed. You’re sleeping, getting some much deserved rest, but he can’t help but be angry at you. Angry for attempting, angry for not sharing what was going through your mind, angry at the professionals, for just letting you go again. But his anger gets replaced by guilt as he watches you sleep. Because if you were to die, it would’ve been his fault, at least to Simon.

Except that it wasn’t his fault. You just weren’t made for life and you knew it. Depression had been weighing you down since your teenage years, following you like a ball and chain into adulthood. No matter how much you tried, how hard you tried to fight it, it was a losing battle. A cruel dance with fate. Simon’s eyes wander around the self-harm scars that cover your body, a reminder of your battle, a reminder of every time your mind won the battle against your will to live.

As Simon’s guilt deepens, tears fall from his eyes. You always used to tell him “a cry a deep keeps the demons away.” So, he cried. You had always used your humour as a shield to cope, as a shield to keep people out of the dark abyss of your mind. No one would suspect a thing if you just kept joking about it.

It was a painful realisation – the guilt, but also the truth in those words. It was what he missed most about you, your smile, your warmth, your kindness. He misses your wisdom the most. Maybe if he had tried to understand you more, none of this would be happening. His heart ached with regret and longing.

Simon felt lost. He remembered your humour, but he could never make the thoughts leave his head. How you were always so lively and funny, but had suffered in silence for so long.

This had worried you the most. Not the dying alone part, you had made peace with dying alone a long time ago. But the failing of your plan, and how it would hurt the people around you.

He knew you hadn’t meant to hurt him, but he didn’t think he could find the way to forgive you yet. As for himself, he felt he could never forgive himself for not noticing earlier. How close you had been to death. How far he had allowed this to go, without a single moment’s notice. Not that this would’ve changed anything for you, you would’ve done it either way. With or without him noticing. The depression that had been brewing in you for more than a decade was a ticking time bomb, being set off without anything mayor happening. But this had been a messy attempt, your mind too crowded to think properly, the pain of being alive too much to bear. So you had made mistakes, mistakes that caused your attempt to fail. Mistakes that would make you hate yourself even more. Mistakes that would be carved into your skin the moment you had the chance. Simon couldn't help but feel your attempts to hide your depression had been his fault. Had he not made you believe you had to? Or was this merely some cruel trick his mind was playing on itself? He wanted to hold your hand so badly, to feel your warmth, to tell you he loved you. But you were sleeping. His guilt consumed him. He began thinking of every moment you had been depressed, every instance he hadn't helped, every time he hadn't noticed a thing. But truth be told, you would never had let him help you, your depression had been weighing you down, pulling you under the surface while you desperately tried not to drown.

But drowning is a silent thing to do.

And you, you felt as if the whole world had to be carried on your shoulders. Professionals had failed you, and friends were not made to carry such a heavy load. So you carried it all by yourself, allowing yourself to slip under the surface of the water. Simon was terrified. The idea of you suffering in silence hurt him more than he ever imagined it would. He wanted to tell you how much you affected the lives of those around you. How he had looked up to you for your wisdom, your humour, your honesty. How you had brightened his days just by being there. He also wanted to say how sorry he was for not noticing your depression sooner. But you weren't awake. So he stayed beside your bed, waiting. Hoping. Praying that you would live.

The disappointment of being alive would wash over you soon enough, and you would have to live with that disappointment, a disappointment to yourself and your friend. Your eyes flutter as you begin to wake up, the sunlight burning through your closed eyelids, the pain you feel a reminder that you’re alive. But you don’t want to open your eyes. You can’t face reality, not yet. A wave of relief washed over Simon as he felt you stir. He was still angry, worried, confused, but he couldn't keep the smile from his face. He reached for your hand, wanting to hold on to the life he had thought he lost. Wanting to hold on to you. Wanting to let you know just how much you meant to him.

"Don't leave me again."

You can’t answer him, not yet. You have to deal with the disappointment of being alive first, before you can tend to him.

Fuck

How you wished you were dead, how you wished that you had succeeded, how you wished you had finally found your peace. You turn to your side, curling up as a ball, the sobs that leave your lips are raw, violent even. As if your soul got broken open and you can’t stop your feeling from pouring out. As Simon watched you curl up into a ball, his heart ached. He could feel your hurt, your anger, your pain, and wished he could take it away from you. And he felt you needed this, this release, this raw feeling. But he also understood how much you disliked your existence. How unfair this life had been to you. How many times you had been disappointed by it all. By other people, probably. But he hoped in the end, you would know how much he appreciated and cared for you. Your tears didn’t stop, by all means they just poured harder, more violent. Fuck, fuck, fuck! Why did you have to be alive? Your feelings turn into anger, angry at yourself for failing, for staying alive, angry at the universe for playing these cruel tricks. “Fuck, Simon.” You sob. “I can’t do this.” Simon felt his anger dissipate, replaced by worry. He couldn't see you this way. So hurt. So depressed. So angry at the world, at life. That anger had always been the first thing he thought of when he pictured you, but not like this. Not the world's anger. Your own. "Hey hey, it's alright." He sat down next to you. "We can get through this together. Just me and you, like always." And that was when, for a moment, he almost believed it.

But you can’t, you don’t want to. You had been trying to get through it, with him, without him. But you’re tired. Tired of trying not to drown when the world is pulling you under. So, so, so tired. “I don’t want to, Simon.” You whisper and your voice sounds tired, as if you’ve been up for days. “I can’t fight anymore.” "Stop." he whispered, his heart aching. This wasn't the reality he wanted to admit, but it was one that was hard to deny. "Please, can't you see how many people care about you? I'm not talking about friends and family, I'm talking about me. Don't you think seeing you like this hurts me?" He knew you were tired. He knew you wanted to just disappear from the world of pain and suffering. And so he tried one last time. "Don't disappoint me." You squeeze his hand, to the point that your own hand starts to hurt from the power. You could see the pain in his face. The pain you had caused. And the guilt hit you like a ton of bricks. You feel so selfish, like you always have been.

“I’m so sorry for putting you through this.” "Stop... stop apologizing." He felt you squeeze his hand, and took it as a sign of hope. Perhaps there was still a chance, even at your lowest, to fight for life. "I'm your friend. I'll always fight with you, even when you can't fight anymore. Especially then. Maybe we can learn how to fight this together." He hoped it wasn't too far gone. He didn't want to lose you to the darkness. But what would you do if it wasn’t apologizing? It was all you did. Apologizing for existing, apologizing for not being good enough, apologizing for being depressed. For being alive. You give his hand a softer squeeze. “Thank you, Simon.” You mumble. “Thank you for being here, and I’m sorry if I’ve let you down.” "You've never let me down," he whispered back. His eyes were soft, and his expression gentle. All the anger, guilt and disappointment had vanished. He was thinking of you, how hard you had tried — harder than most would. He knew this. He felt this. He couldn't blame you for wanting an escape. An escape he wished he could provide.

"Don't you see? You're the strongest person I know. You're the last person to need to apologize."

His words. No matter how kind they were. They didn't register. You understood them, they were words you could even tell to others. But those words weren't meant for you. Not to someone like you.

So you laid there, curled up in a ball, the disappointment of being alive weighing on you. But they were meant for you. They were for you. Because even when you felt broken, he saw you as strong. When you were tired, you were resilient.

"Let me come a little closer." Simon shifted closer, trying to place his hand on your arm. He wanted to hold on. He wanted to feel you. Your warmth, your touch, your comfort in his hand.

You were hurt, but he wanted to hold that warmth, hold on to you. Because it felt like a treasure to him.

"Rest," he told you. And he meant it; he wanted you to take a break. You were so tired, so full of self-destruction.

He stayed with you in that bed, even as he felt your strength slip away. He wouldn't leave you until he was sure you could fight back. You would fight back, and he would do whatever he could to help you, to make the world a more bearable place. To give the light inside your soul room to heal.

And so your first attempt ended like this. With Simon holding you.

But you were broken, broken beyond repair, and one attempt turned into two, turned into three. All while Simon's life just continued. His missions, his deployments. And there you were. Feeling like a burden again. Simon felt his heart sink with each attempt, his anger growing with each disappointment. It made him feel powerless, unable to help you get better. To show you how much the world needed you. How much he needed you. "Not again..." His voice trembled with tears, a look of desperation on his face. He wanted you to recover, but felt hopeless. He felt that maybe he had already failed you, but didn't dare think it. Because if there was a chance for you to survive... he wanted you to take it. It must've been exhausting for him too. Not knowing if a call from you was just to catch up, or if he would hear just sobs, and rambling about how you couldn't take it anymore. How he had spent hours and hours talking to you. Unable to cope with the guilt of something would've happened to you.

But he was only human, and humans can only take so much.

You look at your phone. Tears streaming down your face as you had called him. You could hear the exhaustion in his voice.

"I'm sorry."

"Stop apologizing..." He sighed. "I can't take this anymore. You can't keep doing this. Can't keep hurting yourself, can't keep hurting others, can't keep hurting me."

He didn't want to shout, but for the first time his anger began to surface. He wanted to see you get better, but his hopes were dwindling. "Just... please." Simon was at a loss of words. "How can I make you feel better about all this? What do you need?"

His anger was justified. In your attempt to stay longer on this earth you were dragging him along your misery.

"I'm sorry!" You repeat again, as the tears roll down your cheeks. "I don't know Simon." You hated that you had called him, once again. He was on deployment, unable to help you.

"Can you let me go?"

Simon felt his stomach knot. "Absolutely not." He knew his anger could hurt you, but had to hold on to his hopes of saving you. Because he had promised himself he wouldn't let you escape like this.

"No. No way." He let his voice raise, his anger making him feel stronger. "I am not letting you go." He would not hurt you further, but he would also not let you give up. He had to try.

A decision was made.

And you took a deep, deep breath. "Right." You mutter. "I'm sorry, again."

You wipe away your tears. "I know you're busy. And I really don't want to bother you. But can we just talk? Talk about our time at high school?" "Always." Simon smiled softly as the knot in his stomach disappeared. He felt more hopeful now that he had gotten your attention, and felt his anger melt away. "You know you're never a bother. How I wish the only thing I had going on was to speak to you." He tried to joke, but his concern for you clouded his humour.

"Tell me the first thing that comes to mind. High school. Any memories."

A soft sigh left your lips. You could hear his concern. You could hear your heart crumble when he joked about all the things that were going on, and how you were just another add on to that pile. But you pushed it away. This phone call had to turn into a light one. One without more worries.

"Remember how we met?" You ask. "In our self-defence class. You were brand new and I was a black belt. We hit off immediately, and then it turned out we went to the same high school." A smile formed on your face. Better times.

"I remember us secretly smoking behind the building." You snicker. Simon's smile broadened, the memory coming back to him as if they were there a second ago.

"I've always wondered what would have happened if I didn't go to that class." The smile faded again, replaced by thoughtfulness, as Simon considered how different his life would have been. He likely would have never met you. "I wasn't as tough as you remember, I was just taller." He chuckled. "I remember my first day, and you told me about your past. And you asked me about my life — which I was very quiet about then. What else do you remember?" You can’t help but chuckle. "Yeah we definitely did some trauma bonding. Two people with a fucked up childhood."

You clear you throat. "I'm glad we both managed to escape our homelife."

At the mention of trauma bonding, the smile dropped from Simon's face. It was true, it was how you had bonded. And it was one of the worst ways to bond. But he knew you were still thinking about it, and didn't want to change the mood of the call. "Don't think about that," he said. "Come on now, we can't let a shitty childhood ruin our lives." He was one to talk. Running away at eighteen to join the military. You both knew that your childhood would haunt, till the end of times. But you dropped the subject. Not in the mood to ruin this phone call. "Yeah yeah." You mutter.

"I remember you sneaking out of school to shoplift a can of coke." You laugh. "I was so goddamn worried you'd get caught." "Not as worried as me." Simon laughed. "I didn't get caught, though. So my criminal record is still clean... for now." "Although it is a miracle you never got caught. I don't think I've paid for a single can of coke in my last year of high school, thanks to you."

Simon felt his spirits lift, as he recalled all the stolen sodas you and him had split. It had gotten harder to sneak them in as you went up the year grades, but you had enjoyed those stolen moments of sweetness together.

For a few moments, it was as if you were still in those high school halls. Stealing drinks, telling each other about your past, and trying to escape your family life by spending all your time together. But now you were far apart, and there were other problems in your lives. Life had changed. "God. We were idiots." You sighed. "The amount of times we skipped school just to hang in the park and smoke."

"I still don't get how we graduated." You add with a smile, the phone call was helping to take your mind off things.

"We were almost too late for our math final." "We were extremely late for our maths final," he corrected. "But it got us through, didn't it?" He chuckled nervously, thinking of how close you came on several occasions to being kicked out.

"We weren't idiots. Life was just hard." He sighed, his eyes growing softer with each word, "We just needed to find ways to escape. And somehow, we made it." He knew you were feeling better, and thought for a moment. Perhaps he did want to push you a bit, to help you heal.

Of course you remembered, life had been hard for the both of you, yet somehow he had managed better.

"Somehow we made it." You repeat. "Thanks for staying on the phone with me, Simon. I know you're busy, and I'm feeling better right now. I'll keep you updated through text, okay?" "The day you don't call me on your lowest is the day you stop being my friend." Simon tried to joke. He wanted to lighten the mood, but also make you feel wanted. It was important to him that you did not feel like a burden.

"And don't apologize. Your emotions are the most important to me... don't push them away. I just wish I could be there to hold you through it all."

"You don't have to rush." Simon added, a sense of finality to his words.

"You staying on that call meant more than you'll realise." You said. "I'll text you soon okay? Take care Simon."

You ended the call, with a soft smile. Outgoing call: 57 minutes and 26 seconds. It did you more good than you had expected.

Simon sighed. Although it had been a long call, it felt like it had gone by in a flash. He kept thinking about that joke he made, about the day you stopped calling him on your worst days. And how he didn't want that day to ever come.

He knew you had been hurt too much in your life, so he was happy to keep being with you. To keep talking, to keep lifting you up again. He thought he had succeeded, too. Maybe you wouldn't try to hurt yourself again.

"I'll talk to you later." He muttered to himself.

You did feel better. Your house got cleaner, you started going out more. No longer calling in sick to your job that often.

You snapped a pick of a sunrise, sending it to Simon. "Made me think of you." You texted before you went on with your day. A little check in to let him know you were okay. He smiled as he read the message, feeling his heart lift as he read it. It was more than just a little message to Simon. It was what he needed to see, to know you were recovering, and happy. To know that all of the time and effort he put into helping you was paying off. He wanted to tell you right now that he was proud of you, that he was happy for you. But maybe you didn't need that yet. So, he kept it to himself for now. He responded with a simple "Thanks" message.

You did it every day. Usually in the morning. Sunrises. A flower. A dog. Anything that made you happy. And he usually responded with a "Thanks." But that was enough for now.

Your therapist applauded it, and that made you happy too.

You crouched down during one of your walks. Making a picture of one of the first fungi you had spotted during her walk. You send the picture to Simon.

"First one! When is your next deployment?"

Simon was glad for the daily pictures, and did his best to keep it up. He wanted you to feel like you were important to him, so he had to try and be more attentive to your messages. He stopped in the hallway as he read your latest message.

"Uh, this weekend. For three weeks." He texted.

He wondered if he should say more, but did not want to overwhelm you. He was happy already. You were alive, and looking at flowers and fungi. You were feeling better.

Ah. Three weeks. You knew he didn't have any service while deployed. Something with safety and all that. But you didn't mind. The cold November air hit your face, and it made you feel alive. You took a deep breath, letting the crisp air fill your lungs.

"That sucks :(. I'll keep sending you the nice things I find on walks, even if you can't see them right away." You texted back.

Simon was glad you understood, and didn't want you to think he didn't care. He tried not to think about the length of the deployment, or the fact that he would likely not be able to talk to you for three weeks. But it didn't matter, because you were recovering.

"Send whatever photos you want, I won't be able to respond, but I will love looking at them." He texted. "Three weeks go by faster than you'd think. I'll be home before you know it."

You did the math. He would be gone on the first of November. And he would be back around the 22nd.

"Do you think you'll be home for Christmas? It’s been a while since we celebrated together." You texted him back.

Your text felt like a punch to the gut. It was true, it had been a while since you had celebrated Christmas together. Your last Christmas together had been two years ago, and it had been an awkward one at that.

Simon tried to put on a brave face. "I'm going to try." He texted. "If I'm lucky, I'll be back late December... maybe even early." He wondered if you would take these answers well, or if he had just made things worse.

"That's great. We'll work the details out when you're back from deployment, no worries." You texted back. There was a light spring in your step as you walked to your job. As if the weight of the world had fallen off your shoulders. "I'll text you tomorrow before you leave for your mission :)"

"Sounds good." Simon was glad to see you in high spirits again. "Talk to you soon."

You and Simon continued to exchange photos for the remainder of the week. He sent you images of training exercises, and you sent him photos of birds, and flowers. It was the highlight of both your days. On Saturday morning, the day before Simon was to depart for the mission, he sent you a voice message. He was standing in his room, as he talked.

"Hey. How are you today?" Some days you just exchanged pictures. The others you had whole conversations. But that was okay, you understood he was busy, and you didn't need his attention all of the time. You smiled when you got his voice message, it was nice to hear his voice again.

"Simon! I'm good, best I've been in a while." You answered through a voice message. "How are you? What time are you leaving?"

"I'm glad." That was always Simon's response, when he heard you were doing 'well.' He had grown to love seeing your photos, and the few conversation you had together throughout the week kept him going. He sounded excited when he spoke, and you could hear a little of the anticipation in his voice.

"Leaving in 20 minutes." He sent. "I'm feeling pretty good, to be honest. A little nervous, but I'm looking forward to the mission."

"You're a good soldier, Simon." You responded through your voice message. "Those three weeks will be over in no time, and when you're back we can go plan Christmas. In the meantime. I'll send you my daily pictures, so you have something to look at when you get back." You added in another voice message

Simon smiled when he heard you call him a good soldier. It felt nice, to be recognized. And to be seen.

He sent back one message that simply said, "Thanks."

He got ready for the mission, grabbing his gear and getting into his squad vehicle.

As he drove in quiet, he thought about planning Christmas. It felt nice, looking forward to things. Maybe you and him could go on a little trip, or do something fun together.

He was optimistic, and couldn't wait for the next three weeks to be over.

On November first you send him a picture of a sunset.

"Reminds me of you. I miss you :)"

But you got no answer, knowing he was out in a mission and had no reception.

On November second you send him a picture of a dandelion, a cat, and the moon.

"Even though we're apart we're looking at the same moon."

And again you got no answer, but you knew he had no reception.

On November third you send him a selfie, a smile on your face.

"I will miss you Simon. Take care. I will always love you. You've been a great friend. You've been my best friend."

On November third you put your phone back on your desk before you left your home. The walk to the train station was short. You had led them all on, but it was your time to leave.

You had held on to life as long as you could. But you were done. You were tired. You couldn't live another day, but at least he would have some good memories of you.

"I'm sorry." You mutter as you saw the train approaching.

One deep breath.

You and Simon always had a habit of sending photos to each other. Especially of the sky. Simon felt a sinking feeling come over him as he saw your last pictures. It was a beautiful sunset, but the words you chose had taken away much of its beauty.

"God damn..." He whispered as he read your message. "Is this what I think it is?" He started getting a thousand thoughts at once, all flooding through his brain.

What could he have done?

Should he have said something different?

You were going to be okay. You were getting better.

Nothing. Nothing could've been done. It wasn't his fault. It wasn't the fault of your therapist. No one was at fault.

Some people just weren't made to grow old, and you were one of them. Your depression had haunted you and had finally taken you to the dark abyss. You were finally at peace.

Simon tried to push away the thoughts of all you were going to miss. All of the life you were going to miss. He could not believe it. He simply couldn't. The person he tried to cheer up, was gone. It wasn't his fault. It wasn't his fault... He kept repeating that to himself, but deep inside he knew that had always been true. He had done all he could. All he had been able to. And that would never be enough to make you stay. Simon's eyes were growing red, but he tried to keep himself strong. It had only been hours after you died, and he was already questioning everything.

"I'll remember you." He said, to no one. He thought of all of the times he tried to help you, the pictures you sent him. The jokes. the little conversations you shared. He couldn't believe it. Simon tried to dial you, to call you, to call for an answer. But he knew that there was nothing he could do now. Nothing but hope that heaven was real. Nothing but hope that he would see you again. Nothing but hope that this was all a horrible joke, a sick nightmare.

The photos of the sunset, the cat, the moon, all lay in front of him. They looked like a cruel joke. Like reality's cruellest and sickest joke of all.

You weren't supposed to end.

264 notes · View notes

itz-pandora · 2 months ago

Text

youtube

Guys watch this before clicking read more

I have so many thoughts

THE PARALLEL BETWEEN MARIA'S WOUND AND THE DESTROYED MOON?!!! OH MY GOD!!!! OH MY. MY GOD. That's the entire reason I started writing my thoughts down because that's way past important. Where's that post about the symbolism and correlation between Maria's name and the moon because that's all I can think about

AND I LOVE how they're choosing to portray Maria recently, excited and eager for everything, even though it hurts her. Also how fascinated she is with earth makes me happy. I love the idea she'll just endlessly ramble to Shadow about Earth. Also her VA does a good job at letting you know how out of breath she is and how she's still all upbeat even tho she's literally about to pass out

Also ?!!! I AM GOING A BIT CRAZY AT SHADOWS PORTRAYAL!! I'm so hyped to see how he's interpreted in Generations. He seems so confused, and like each time period he's in impacts his personality heavily, like he's still with them on the ARK. He wants to save everyone even though he knows he can't and I'm SCRATCHING AT THE WALLS because of it. I think the way that they'll try to portray him going into the past is with him being only half-aware of everything, OR, HE'S TRYING TO LIVE A LIE TO MAKE HIMSELF FEEL BETTER. Ohmygod the second one makes me feel ill because he just wants to be happy, he wants to keep his little family together and safe, but he knows that the fate is inevitable, just wondering if he could've stopped it. It's haunting to him. The feeling of not being in control is present throughout the entire episode, where he's constantly dragged through each event, each one being more exhausting than the last. Everything is happening to him, he's not the driving force, and that's the sad part, he had an entire game about defining his identity, and still, he's always been a puppet to someone else, bent to their will.

I'M SO CURIOUS ABOUT WHAT THEY'RE PLANNING WITH GERALD BECAUSE ITS DEFINITELY SOMETHING. SHADOW WHAT DID HE DO TO YOU??? Shadow had to PHYSICALLY CLASP HIS HEAD BECAUSE OF THIS. I NEED TO KNOW.

Dude is this supposed to be Shadow's second traumatic flashback regarding the ARK, since in the hero story of SHTH, there's an entire level about the ARK where he plays with Maria as his sidekick, and it was triggered by hearing the sirens of the ARK (which I LOVE btw. Of COURSE he'd associate the noise with events since it's been drilled into his psyche before the amnesia)

I LOVE how scared he is at the end. He's sooooo panicked. I love how they give him the sparks when he's overwhelmed, it makes me feel so happy.

Who is HE?! It can't be Shadow before his memory loss, that guy did NOT SURVIVE. Also idk if they're going to return to the "pre and post amnesia Shadow are different people" thing they implied, because I think it'd be best to have it be like his memories are fragmented, and it's all about remembering, and THEN WE GET A NEW INTERPRETATION OF SHADOW?? Pls? Like not new but somewhere in between SA2 and after that, but with more little brother energy because MARIA IS HERE!!!!

GUYS WHAT ARE THOSE FLOWERS AT THE END AND WHAT DO THEY MEAN. PLEASE TELL ME SINCE THEY PROBABLY HAVE SYMBOLISM

This is so disorganized sorry I'm not normal at all

And ofc Eggman's piss was still on the moon. We love continuity

#sonic x shadow generations #dark beginnings #shadow dark beginnings #sonic x Shadow generations dark beginnings #shadow the hedgehog #maria robotnik #ark siblings #Youtube

36 notes · View notes

alessiathepirate · 10 months ago

Text

Game of Thrones

FOUR: Bronn x fem!reader

Summary: She remembers how many times his nose had been broken. The trip to Dorne ended up being the fourth. She's there to help him with it though.

Notes: English isn't my first language. I apologize for any mistake I may have made while I wrote this short story.

Warnings: swearing, mentioned brothels but nothing specific

•••

"Four." she said as she did her best to push back a smile, but her lips were trembling from trying.

"What?" Bronn turned to look at her, his voice full of annoyment.

"The number of times your nose has been broken." she explained. "Now it's four."

"It's real' nice to know you were paying attention." the sides of his fingers were bloody as he held onto the area and she grabbed a rag - a rather fancy looking one - to help him with his injury. "But you could've told me to punch the cunt harder."

She laughed as she pushed him down to sit on the chair, so she'll get a better access to his face. She pushed his hand aside and had to hit him on the shoulder playfully when he tried to pull her onto his lap with his bloodied hand.

"Trystane? Oh please, he was out cold from the hit you gave him anyway. And it wasn't the best you can do."

Her fingers gently raked through his hair, giving Bronn the attention he was rather fond of even if he teased her for it at night restlessly, before she began to clean up his face.

" 'Cause you know what I can do." he smiled up at her through bloodied lips and she pressed down on the right side of his nose a bit harder to shut him up.

He hissed a bit, but that was all.

"And you know what I can do if you choose to run your mouth."

"Attacking a man when he's down. I wonder who taught you that."

She smiled, even if she did her best not to do that, and so did he - once again.

"Well he fights without honor so I fight without it too." she explained, remembering how Bronn chose to attack her the moment her fingertips touched the sword for the first time - she didn't even have the chance to get a good grip.

" 'Always knew you were my kind of woman." he stated with a grin, his hands grabbing her upper thighs quickly - she didn't have the chance to scold him for it either.

"I'm happy to hear that-- since my presence alone made you avoid brothels, for a year."

"The things I do for you." his thumbs started to draw circles into her thighs through the material of the dress Doran Martell was so keen on gifting her - the dress, that became dirty with blood the moment Bronn touched it, not like either of them cared.

"And you better keep on doing them unless you want me to kill you." she threatened, her voice shaking slightly from the fear deep down, that he might go back to his old self, exploring brothels for his liking.

"Oh come on darlin', not a single whore can compare to you." Bronn's hold on her thighs tightened and the movement of his fingertips stopped - that was his way of comforting her, making it a teasing-like joke when in reality what she thought mattered to him more than anything else.

Despite feeling jealous and self-conscious about herself, she smiled at the things he said. Bronn meant every word that left his mouth.

"Besides, none of them could look as good with a sword as you do."

It was a quick movement. His arms moved faster than she could react and suddenly she was sitting on his lap. A small tearing sound could be heard and she was sure the dress Doran had given her was torn. Not like it mattered, the blood ruined it anyway.

She placed her hands on his shoulders as a late reaction, the rag almost falling from her hand.

From up close she could see the damage the guard had done much better. The skin around his nose was angry red and bruised, someplace even swollen. The blood was already gone, she washed it off his face well.

And Bronn was smiling with one of those teasing smiles of his - the one she was silly enough to fall for.

"You ripped my dress." she stated instead of asking if he was feeling all right - he might've laughed if she asked that.

"It wasn't even yours."

"It was. Prince Doran gifted it to me." she argued as she looked at the light coloured dress, then back up at Bronn.

He just laughed shortly, dismissively. "I'm sure he gave it to you out of kindness."

"Don't be sarcastic- or jealous. I'm not sitting on his lap in it." she leaned close to him, grinning while doing so, her lips almost touching his. "Besides, I prefer sellswords over golden princes."

"Thank the Gods."

She giggled and leaned back, taking one last look at his nose. " 'You'll be fine, right? I like it more when you're the one punching others."

" 'Never been better." his grip tightened on her waist.

And she leaned in and kissed him, hugging him so close they were almost chest to chest. Despite how quick and lustful he wanted to be, she didn't keep up at all and tried to turn the kiss into a slow, but passionate one. She didn't want to touch his nose too hard or too suddenly. After many tries, she succeeded.

Sitting on Bronn's lap was the best thing in the Seven Kindoms - it didn't only provide pleasure, but comfort and safety too. She felt safe and warm there, and sometimes - most of the times - impossibly teasing and impatient.

"Don't get punched again." she pleaded after a while. "You look good with a scar here and there, but don't make it an everyday thing-- please."

"I'll punch the Hells out of the next cunt who tries, don't you worry." his fingers were dancing around on her back, making her shiver. "Now that we're alone, I know a real' good tavern 'round here. They have the best Dornish wine."

"We shouldn't leave the Old Palace." she said even though she already knew she'll say yes.

"Well, do the rules ever stop us?"

She smiled.

Us.

That's how she knew Bronn loved her. He never said it with confessions, but during times like these he made sure she understood that he really does.

#got x reader #game of thrones x reader #bronn x reader #bronn x fem!reader

85 notes · View notes

vinxhwrites · 1 year ago

Text

I've had this idea in my drafts for a long time and only finished it today because I was procrastinating on the many many assignments I have for this week. I've never written smut before so I don't know what I'm doing, also I'm very sleepy so maybe it sucks, but here it is:

ghost x f!reader x soap

nsfw, +18

word count: 8.2k

cw: nsfw! lots of fluff, tiniest bit of h/c, smut in the end, unprotected sex (don't do it!); alcohol consumption, quite long descriptions of anxieties I guess; also not proofread, sorry

You enjoyed existing in the liminal space between something romantic and something purely friendly. You wanted to get to know every aspect of love, feel it from all directions, in all its forms.

You always wondered what exactly was the tipping point to make one thing turn into another. You wondered if it even existed, if experience could ever be restrained to one set type of relationship, if love could be divided into sections, named and labeled, put into existence and then put to death once things ended, instead of just being the overflowing unconditional force that you hoped it was.

In reality, of course, love can't be limited or restrained by words that aim to define, control or organize it. In practice, you've found it within yourself as something stronger, more nuanced, and freeing than you could've ever hoped it would be.

Ghost first heard Soap refer to you as his "nap buddy" over breakfast one day. He frowned, the first thought to cross his mind being whether the two of you were skipping work to take naps. But Soap went on, telling Gaz about how he'd been creeping into your bed at night when he couldn't sleep. "I feel like a baby, I swear" Ghost overheard him say "she'll just tell me stories until I fall asleep."

It all had started almost two months prior to that conversation, when you bumped into Soap in the corridor one night. You were both sleepy but suffering from insomnia. He shared little tips with you on what usually helped him: walking around, counting sheep, breath exercises; although he admitted this time none of it was working.

You explained your problem was the crippling anxiety that came with the insomnia sessions. You hated being alone with your thoughts during the dark moments of the night, which filled you with unreasonable angst.

You two walked around outside for a while. It was a cold night and you both started to shiver a bit. Soap rubbed his hand on your back in an attempt to warm you, but you concluded it was best to go back to your rooms. Then, as you approached your door, right beside his, you had an idea:

"Hey, I hope this doesn't sound too weird...but would you like to try to sleep with me?"

He smiled at you and accepted the invite.

At that moment, you navigated the perfect moment of sleepiness when rational thoughts can barely form, all that is left are the primary ideas, informed only by your senses and memories. The anxious voices of decent social conduct are far too tired to interject with your thoughts at this point. Anything can seem appropriate, nothing feels real and there is true bliss to be found somewhere.

That's why it felt so natural to curl up in bed with Soap that night, you rested your head on his shoulder and he held your hand. He caressed your hair before saying something nice about the way you smelled and closed his eyes. You surely talked for a bit, in whispers, but neither of you would be able to recall what the conversation was about if someone asked. And just like that, both of you were able to fall asleep in a few minutes of comfort.

It quickly developed into a habit for difficult nights, you now depended on these moments as if they were some kind of medicine. It surely didn't make the issue go away completely for either of you, but it sure was nice to find some comfort in each other's company. Having someone to talk to was a good distraction from your racing thoughts, it was easier to relax when you were with him. Plus, he didn't seem to mind how you jumped effortlessly from one topic to another, talking about anything that came to mind.

Soon, Soap started looking for you even before trying to fall asleep by himself, "preventive care" he explained with a smile when you'd open the door relatively early at night, looking a bit puzzled. You got into the habit of telling him stories, real and made-up, creating nice scenarios for his dreams.

You've let him kiss you a few times, but it never really went much further than that, even though it was no secret that he liked you as a bit more than a friend.

Part of the reason for your contentment with kisses was that both of you were almost always too tired to invest in more than that, but part of it was because of your resistance to changing your relationship dynamic. What you had built with him felt so stable in its tenderness that you were scared to risk losing it.

You've always felt, previously in life, that sex complicated things. Especially with men, especially when you thought they were your friends first, to later be heartbroken by the fact that they really just wanted to fuck you, and had no love to give. You really wished it would be different with him.

But Soap was well-versed in love, he wasn't scared of it. He fully embraced it, actually. Sometimes, while you played with your fingers through his hair, he'd make a point of telling you about his love, the depths of it, how much he could give you of it if you'd let him.

"But it's perfect like this" you cried, anytime he brought up the topic of sex, fearing the inevitable low after the high. Yet, to him sex was irremovable from love, it was the best way he knew how to demonstrate it.

He once told you that you made him feel like a teenager again, saying you were like his prudish high school girlfriend.

The furthest you've gone at this point was letting him finger you one night, just because he begged and whined so much. "I need to feel you" he said, out of breath from kissing you, and you just couldn't resist. It wasn't like you didn't desire him, you were scared doing it would make you want him more. And it did.

He licked his own fingers afterward, which made a moan escape from your mouth. He kissed you again before resting his head on your shoulder. Didn't ask for anything in return. Soap was a lover by definition. And the fact that he respected your boundaries made you treasure him even more.

"You know you can sleep with other people, right?" you assured him, afraid that he'd resent you if you kept him waiting.

"Yeah, but it's not the same thing" he replied.

You were on a first-name basis now, you called him Johnny and, when the two of you were alone, he called you "baby", even letting it slip in front of other people sometimes.

Ghost reprehended you for it one day when he heard it. Not Johnny, you. It was inadequate, he said, and made you apologize to him.

You thought Ghost was scary. It was in a similar manner to which you used to think your linguistics professor at University was scary: in a hot, sexy but very menacing way. You desired his approval and had the impression that you were never going to get it. His mere presence made your legs weak. Maybe it was the authority aspect that messed with your mind, or at least that's what you tried to justify to yourself.

He intimidated you more than anyone, constantly making you feel inadequate just by looking at you. It felt unfair to not even be able to see him properly most of the time, it made you feel naked in every interaction when he could see you so clearly. And on top of that, there was the constant staring: You were always under his watch if he was around as if he was constantly waiting for you to do something wrong. Plus, he seemed to be way more critical of you than he was of others, always questioning you or anything you did, and complaining about your skills or your lack of punctuality (even if you were late by just a minute).

"I think he hates me," you told Johnny one day. "I really do".

He chuckled in response. "He doesn't hate you. He's just really bad at expressing...anything"

"I think he's really good at expressing his hatred for me" you whined back "He doesn't treat you as badly".

"Well, baby, but you can't compete with me!" he smirked proudly "He loves me".

The truth is Ghost loved hearing you say "I'm sorry, sir" in a soft and exhausted voice, it tickled something inside him that he couldn't quite name. It was equally exciting and disturbing to him. But you didn't know that, which is why it caught you by surprise when he showed up at your door one night, as you were about to fall asleep.

Ghost wasn't one to sleep together, not even with the random people he had sex with on occasion. Sleep had always been a solitary activity to him, something he struggled with by himself.

The idea of having someone to sleep with, of it being such a comfort hadn't left his mind ever since he heard John talking about it at the table weeks before. He started to catch himself fantasizing about it, thinking about the warmth of having someone's body so close to him, if it'd be something to shield him from his nightmares. He started to wonder about how soft your skin must feel.

It was a foreign feeling to him, this yearning for something so intimate, but it got to a point where he just had to try it.

"Ghost?" you were confused. He wore sweatpants and a long-sleeved grey t-shirt, and still had a black balaclava on. He closed the door behind him.

"Johnny said you let him sleep with you sometimes" he cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable.

"Right" you responded, waiting for him to scold you for it. But he just stood there in silence "Would you like to sleep here too...?" you guessed amused after he let the silence hang for a bit too long.

He took a deep breath, "May I?" he asked.

"Sure, come here." you moved closer to the wall to make space for him. You couldn't help but smile as you felt him sit down on your bed, the heat coming from his body already making you want to get closer.

"You know I don't have sex with him, right?"

"I didn't come here for sex" he answered immediately, sounding almost offended, then sighed "I can't sleep''.

"OK" you said, already regretting having opened your mouth in the first place.

He laid down on his back beside you exhausted and took a deep breath. He removed his balaclava and put it on your nightstand. You noticed you were holding your breath, terrified of ruining this moment of intimacy.

"You'd better not snore" he said in a low voice, adjusting himself on your pillow with a hand behind his head and the other on his chest.

You chuckled a bit, letting yourself relax by his side. "I don't snore." you assured him "at least, not that I know of".

Ghost didn't answer you this time, and even in the dark you could see he had closed his eyes.

"Permission to touch you, sir?" you asked in a whisper after a few seconds of collecting your courage, craving to feel his skin.

That first night, he let you hold his hand while you two slept. It felt tiny and fragile on his. When he woke up sweating in the middle of the night, as he often did, his heart rate eased when he felt your presence by his side, it did feel different.

He avoided you like the plague for three days straight after that night, you thought he'd never look at you again. You thought you've done something wrong and scared him away. In reality, he was scared he'd poisoned himself by getting a taste of something so novel to him, and feared he'd become addicted to it.

He tried to go back to his regular routine, but now the emptiness of his bedroom felt even more evident, his bed felt colder. Then, when you were starting to become at peace with the anxiety that had built up in your stomach at this point, he showed up at your door again.

This time he didn't say anything after you agreed to let him in, feeling absolutely defeated. He laid on his side, his back turned to you. You asked if you could touch him once more and when he agreed you threw your arm around his torso, cuddling him. He felt a goosebump as your breath touched his back.

And he wouldn't tell you, but when he woke up he couldn't remember the last time he'd had such a good night of sleep.

You told Johnny about it the next day as casually as possible, fearing to find a trace of jealousy in his eyes. But instead, they seemed to brighten with delight. "See, I told you he didn't hate you" he smiled.

For the next few weeks, your lieutenant started being kinder to you, albeit in his own way. He stopped reprehending you for stupid reasons, gave you a little pat on the back when you did well during training, and even made you a cup of tea once when he heard Gaz comment that you had a cold one day, putting it in front of you at the table and walking away without saying a word.

You discovered him to be someone more playful than you previously imagined, witty even. The affection you had for him grew stronger with each passing day, as your impression of him morphed into something new, and you just couldn't keep it to yourself. But, unlike Johnny, who loved being touched, Ghost had serious boundaries. Most times you could tell you'd overstepped. He'd let you know it immediately: removing your hand from his face if you touched it, clearly stating "don't" if you ever dared to try to touch his hair, he'd move his hand away when you started to mindlessly draw circles on it with your fingers, and - the only aspect that didn't make you feel completely rejected - pushing you away slightly in bed if you ever got close enough to feel the solid volume in his pants.

For him, physical touch tended to be a utilitarian exchange: maybe he'd get a pat on the shoulder for doing a good job, he'd get kisses and caresses when someone used him for sex, he'd get injured during combat, but your touch was something new: it made no practical sense, there was no transaction to be made, no endpoint, it was just affection for the sake of affection. He didn't know what to do with it.

As your intimacy deepened, Ghost revealed to you that suffered from terrible migraines every once in a while and got into the habit of coming to sleep with you on those days, although he did complain every single time that your constant rambling on different topics made his head hurt even more. He'd retract the statement as soon as you stopped talking though.

One day, when he was in a particularly terrible mood, you offered him a massage. "What good will that do, huh?" he grunted "You just want to touch me"

You chuckled "well, that is partially true, sir" and he smiled behind his balaclava. But you insisted, proceeding to explain how the tension on his neck muscles could be causing the headaches, or at least making them worse, and that was enough to convince him to let you do it.

"It doesn't work if you don't try to relax" you said, pressing your fingers to the base of his neck. You were sitting on the bed, back rested on your pillow, with him between your legs, his back turned to you.

"I'm trying" he mumbled.

"Come on, deep breaths," you said, and you knew immediately that he was probably rolling his eyes. "Come on" you insisted patiently, massaging just the right spot on the back of his shoulders as he let out a low moan, letting his head rest forward.

"See, isn't it better?" you said enthusiastically.

"Stop talking" he grunted, which you did, continuing to massage him in silence.

It took you by surprise when you felt his thumb lightly caress your right ankle, it was a timid touch, and you felt afraid he would stop if you moved, even though that leg felt a bit numb already.

You could feel his body melt under your touch bit by bit, letting more of his weight rest on you. He forgot about his headache, only focused on the delicious slumber that took over his body now.

"You're gonna have to do this every day now" he muttered, eyes closed.

"I'll gladly do it" you assured him, treasuring the way he seemed so relaxed now. You had to fight the urge to put a kiss on his neck with all your might.

That night he held you like a pillow, resting his head on your stomach. You slowly pulled his mask up, waiting to see if there'd be any resistance, but there wasn't.

He shivered when you then touched his hair. It felt soft. You scratched his head gently with your nails and he savoured the foreign feeling that it caused.

"You little demon" he whispered, surrendering completely to your touch.

Ghost knew what love was supposed to look like. He just wasn't that sure about how it felt to receive it anymore. The more he thought about it, the more he was under the impression that he lacked the vocabulary to express it.

Once, when working in complete silence next to him, filling and writing reports, you asked:

"Can you take a look at this, sir?" you held the paper in front of him.

"You know you can call me Simon" he said, eyes still fixed on his papers.

"I didn't actually." you said and he looked at you, you could notice a quick smile appear on his eyes.

"Ok, now you know."

You smiled and he moved his gaze back to the papers in front of him.

"Can you take a look at this, Simon?" you repeated, and this time he looked up and happily took the paper from your hand.

Simon had never really tried anything besides actual sleep with you, and you were terrified of initiating it yourself and getting rejected. But sometimes you could feel the imminence of something, nothing clear or distinct, just the way the silence of the room felt different, a change in the pace of his breathing or a slight shift in the atmosphere. On these moments you'd feel like he could turn you over and fuck you at any second. It fed the anticipation in your chest, but it never happened.

You wondered, at times, if you were somehow able to read his thoughts in cryptic ways and that's how you'd know he was thinking about fucking you.

"What are you thinking about?" you asked in a whisper one of these nights.

"Why do you care?" his response was immediate, defensive. Your fantasies definitely weren't supported by his lack of attention to your romantic attempts.

"Just wondering" you shrugged. "Are you not going to tell me?"

He looked at you, and even in the dark you could tell he was smiling "No".

You prayed that he would kiss you, just a little bit would be enough. But, of course, he didn't.

"I was thinking about you, in case you were wondering," you said casually a few moments later, gazing at his face. You were getting sloppier with hiding your feelings for him, he couldn't possibly not see it.

He chuckled quietly at your response, "Stop flirting with me" he said and you felt your cheeks turn red, "you should get some sleep" he suggested then, shutting off the conversation. And, as if he intended to get you a bit more confused, he lightly caressed your hair.

Sometimes you'd wish he'd just reject you once and for all so you could move on. But the more you thought about your love the more you wanted to cultivate it and share it with him, the same way you felt you could share with Johnny. And if Simon didn't want it, so be it. It felt like, and it was, a big act of bravery on your part. At least you'd be able to comfort yourself on the fact that you loved, it grew and flourished inside you, and it was a beautiful thing.

It got to the point where one of them was occupying your bed almost every day of the week, people were starting to catch on to it. You knew the day would come when they'd both show up and the thought alone made you nauseous, at least until it actually happened.

You held your breath when you heard Johnny's steps approaching your door, even before he knocked on it.

"Come in" Simon said before you could even react.

Johnny tilted his head for a second, looking amused at the scene of his lieutenant cuddling you. He closed the door behind him and took off his slippers, then he approached your bed to lay down beside you.

You held your breath when you saw Johnny rest his neck on Simon's extended arm so nonchalantly. Simon didn't move his arm. You couldn't exactly name what is it that you feared at that moment, the next few moments of silence translated into nervousness within you. Johnny took your arm and casually put your hand on his chest.

"So," he said, looking at Simon playfully "Are you trying to steal her from me?"

Simon chuckled "Didn't know she was yours to steal".

The tension you felt was not shared between them.

"You could've come to sleep with me, lieutenant," Johnny said, he sounded almost offended that Simon would have preferred to sleep with you.

"Back at you, Johnny" he murmured, closing his eyes, making Johnny smile from ear to ear.

You knew your bed surely wasn't made for three, but you managed to make it comfortable. You woke up lying on top of Johnny like a baby, your chest to his, while Simon laid on his side with one arm thrown around you.

That night, Johnny could almost feel his heart flutter and twirl inside his chest. It was perfect. He had so much love to give, he couldn't wait to share it. To him, Love was generous and ever-giving, it was infinite, it overpowered him and he gladly let it.

To Simon, on the other hand, Love was a terrifying force he feared would take over him completely if he let it. He feared it could destroy him, or, even worse, he would destroy it. But, at moments like this one, he couldn't help but let love overflow in his heart, couldn't resist the warmth both of you shared from entering his own body.

Throughout the whole following day, you felt a sweet anticipation for something in your stomach, being only able to think about how nice it had felt to be surrounded by both of them. How you wished you could stay in that state forever, unmoved.

At night, Johnny curled up in bed with you, resting his head on your chest after a tiring day. He seemed almost disappointed to find you alone when he came in, he smiled while he kissed you nonetheless.

He inundated you with questions that gradually turned into whines: did you sleep with him? what do you mean you don't even kiss? what are you doing? don't you find him attractive? why don't you just ask him? do you think we should go after him? why not? let's knock on his door! why not?!

You were able to dissuade him from these impulsive thoughts eventually, stroking your fingers through his hair and recommending that he do the same as you and try to stop thinking about it. It was for the best, you assured him, trying to convince yourself of it, too. He yielded at last, but he wasn't pleased.

"Do you even want me?" he asked with a sigh

"Of course I do." you replied, almost offended at the question "You know I do."

"Doesn't feel like it sometimes" he muttered.

You took a deep breath before taking him through your typical monologue, practically memorized at this point, on your reasons for keeping things as they were - no sex - would be better. The more you talked, the less you found yourself believing in your own words. Still, you tried to make him care for the utter shape of your relationship as it was, in an eternal transient state of a romantic friendship that never lost itself. "That sounds terrible, bonnie" he said, but you insisted he just didn't understand.

"I'm sensitive, Johnny." you tried to explain yourself "I can't stand the thought of ruining what we have."

"Seems like you can't stand the thought of improving them" he sighed.

You knew he had been sleeping with other people, and the thought soothed you more than anything. He never lied to you about it when you asked, and it was comforting to see his heart still belonged to you. You tried to imagine yourself as something separate entirely.

He traced his fingers down to your waist, then hips, and back to your shoulders, letting his hand linger on your breast.

"Don't you want it, baby? Not even a little bit?"

"I do, Johnny" you admitted, not immune to the desire that kept itself alive inside you.

"Haven't you been dreaming about it...?" he continued, his voice lower than before as his fingers played with your hair "Huh? You, me and Simon?"

Your eyes widened at his words, even though you had, in fact, been thinking about it constantly ever since the first night that Simon slept with you.

"That would be a mess" you murmured, telling him what you kept telling yourself.

Johnny chuckled, "a hot, delicious fucking mess?" he suggested.

"Just a regular mess" you lied.

"Just think about it, alright?" he eventually said, resting his head back on your chest.

"Okay." you promised before turning off the light on your nightstand..

"I love you, baby. Truly." he whispered in the dark "There's nothing for you to be afraid of."

"I love you too, Johnny"

Part of you knew it was a silly decision to insist on depriving yourself of pleasure, things were already messy enough. There was no saving any naivety of a friendship that hadn't been merely a friendship from the start, and refusing to admit that you did, in fact, have physical desires toward them was, perhaps, just making things worse. You made a mental note to search for a therapist when you got back home, perhaps dig into whatever religious guilt you seemed to have inherited to drive your decisions.

Nevertheless, you were able to remain firm in your decision. At least until two days later, when everyone went out for drinks at night after a long day.

The sky was dark grey when you left the base to go to the bar. The space was crowded, but comfortable. You knew almost everyone there and quickly settled with some friends.

After one and a half beers Johnny was already getting touchy with you by the counter.

"Have you thought about what I said?"

You nodded and he got closer to you, hands on your waist, "And will you let me make love to you?" he asked softly in your ear.

"Maybe I will" you confessed, already feeling a bit tipsy.

"Come on, bonnie" he insisted, hands on your waist "You know I've been dying to fuck you."

You felt as if your legs would melt right then and there. And, even with your back turned to him, you felt Simon's oppressive stare on you. You turned to find him across the bar.

You both looked at him, sitting at the table next to Price, who seemed to be talking to him, even though his attention laid somewhere else. His hair was covered by a black hoodie, but he didn't cover his face. He grinned at you playfully, taking a sip of the cold beer in his hand.

Johnny followed your gaze and smirked at Simon, then looked back at you with a devilish smile. "I'm gonna get Ghost to come with me" he said and you froze in place.

"I don't think that's a good idea," you plead, already feeling the palms of your hands sweat. What is it exactly that you feared? You didn't really know. It felt childish to be this scared of your own desires.

"I think he's into it" Johnny said, winking at you.

"I don't think so." you grew a bit nervous "I don't think he wants me like that"

Johnny just chuckled in response. "Sure" he said sarcastically. "I can't believe you think that's possible, baby".

You looked around the room nervously, the idea made your stomach turn.

"Tell me you don't want it." he said, suddenly looking at you with a serious expression "Just tell me you don't want it and I won't say anything to him. I'll drop it."

But you couldn't say anything, which made him smile before taking another sip of his beer. Johnny pecked a kiss on your cheek, before leaving you to sit at the table beside Simon.

Although you couldn't pinpoint what exactly caused you so much anxiety, you did notice that it mixed into a twisted excitement.

You watched as they interacted with each other, leaning closer to talk, smiling, and laughing lightly. They looked so pretty you couldn't believe such a dreamy scenario would become a reality to you. Johnny touched Simon's arm and whispered something to him, he grinned and looked at you.

You tried to pretend you hadn't been staring at him the whole time, suddenly feeling a lot of interest in the bottle in your hand and then the conversation that took place between the colleagues beside you.

You tried to distract yourself the rest of the night, interacting with other people and trying your best to focus on different subjects, other people's lives and problems, it was very hard considering that yours seemed to be about to become so much more exciting than anything your friends had been up to.

Johnny didn't seem to want to leave Simon's side anymore, they were engaged in conversation with Price and Gaz at the table on the corner of the bar for what felt like hours to you.

It was pouring rain outside by the time you gave yourself a little tipsy pep talk in the dirty restroom mirror. You told yourself you looked attractive enough, beautiful even. Nothing to worry about.

When you came back, you were so immersed in your own thoughts that you didn't even notice when Simon sat on the barstool beside you.

"What are you thinking about?" you heard his low voice behind you.

You turned around to look at him, feeling blood rush to your cheeks "Didn't see you there"

"Are you not going to tell me?" he repeated your words from the other night with a playful smirk, to which you frowned. He leaned a little closer to you to whisper in a high-pitched voice "I'm thinking about you".

"I don't sound like that"

"Yes, you do" he chuckled.

You took a deep breath before answering, echoing his own words back to him: "Well, you should stop flirting with me"

"I don't think you want me to stop" he grinned, and you wished you knew exactly what Johnny had said to him. "Do you?"

"No," you said frankly "no, I don't."

It was almost 2am when Johnny pointed his head to the door, signaling it was time to leave. Simon was already outside, and you were already soaking wet even before you left the covered environment of the bar.

You thought your heart was trying to jump out of your chest when Simon opened his bedroom door later that night, and felt both of the men you loved follow you inside.

You closed your eyes when you felt both of Simon's hands hold you by the shoulders from behind, as he got closer to you "are you OK, love?" he asked against your neck, the softest you've heard him speak, with the remains of alcohol on his breath. He placed a kiss on your shoulder and you rested your head against his chest.

You nodded, your body burning in anticipation. "Will you guys stop if I don't feel well?" you asked, your voice was almost a whisper.

The anxiety about the implications and consequences of this was already set on your chest. Now there was nothing else to do, no escaping the disturbance this would cause to your life. At this point, stopping would be much worse. Your desires had already manifested, they had been spoken, and transformed, there was nothing left to do but give in to it.

The violent rumbles of lightning bolts shook the sky outside, and sudden flashes of light illuminated the room at an unpredictable frequency. Your eyes had adjusted to the dim light of the room, and the darkness felt comforting, providing an atmosphere of otherworldliness to the room, you could almost imagine this scene took place in a different reality and try not to worry about it.

"Of course" Johnny answered and Simon nodded with his face on your neck.

Johnny kissed you first while Simon held you, his familiar lips searching urgently for you in the dark. You had one hand on his neck, while the other held tight to Simon's, afraid to lose his touch. Johnny looked at him with a smile before grabbing you by the waist and turning you around so that you faced Simon.

"What do you want me to do to you?" Simon asked, looking deep into your eyes, his tone was soft, the question genuine.

“Will you please kiss me?” you cried.

He took your hands in his and kissed them, the small sounds of his kisses covering your fingers and wrists. Then, finally, he leaned down and pressed his lips against yours. You felt your heart could explode at any second. You cupped his face with both hands and caressed his skin.

The kiss was soft at first, almost hesitant. His tongue was warm and smooth on yours and he tasted like beer and cigarettes.

You heard when Johnny unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants behind you, grabbing and pulling your hips so you could feel the volume in his underwear, you moaned into Simon's mouth.

Johnny left wet kisses on your neck, making you shiver as he pulled up your t-shirt. Simon cupped your breasts in his hands as soon as he saw them, quickly struggling to free them from your bra, peppering kisses on your chest and nipples.

Simon kneeled in front of you and pulled your pants down, helping you remove your shoes along with them, then smiling at you before kissing over your panties.

You rested your head on Johnny's chest and trusted that his strong grip on your waist would be enough to keep you in place because you barely made any effort to stand anymore.

You hummed when Simon's tongue first touched you, drawing small circles around your clit. Johnny groaned in your ear, pressing his hips against yours, he couldn't remember the last time he'd felt this horny in his life. His hands danced around your body until, feeling very bold from the alcohol, he moved one of his hands down to stroke Simon's hair.

"tastes so good, doesn't she?' he asked, to which Simon nodded, burying his face deeper between your thighs.

Your mind seemed to finally quiet, you wouldn't be able to form a coherent thought if you tried now. You could feel Simon's desire to devour you.

He slipped a finger inside you, moaning back when you did. He moved his lips back to your clit, sucking it with just enough intensity to make your legs tremble. And, as if he knew, just as you were about to come undone on his touch, Simon stopped, standing up again to kiss you, you whined in protest against his lips, but it was useless.

They exchanged glances and Johnny wet his own lips.

"Let me see you ride him, love" Simon whispered in your ear, eyes fixed to his. And you obeyed.

Johnny quickly removed the rest of his own clothes and lead you to Simon's bed by your hand.

He laid down, but you stood there looking at his body for a moment. He looked so beautiful lying naked in front of you, the low light that came from the window was only enough to highlight the contrast of his features. You couldn't believe you had actually been this stupid to deny yourself from him for so long. You bit your own lip at the sight, his eyes brightened with passion. "Go on" Simon encouraged behind you.

You spread kisses to his chest before sitting on him. You tried to do it slowly, making him roll his eyes back, getting used to the size of it little by little. You both gasped with pleasure when you finally took him in completely.

“You’re so tight, baby” he groaned when you started to move.

You could hear Simon ditching his own clothes somewhere behind you. Then you felt him behind you, one of his big hands gently holding your waist. Simon used his other hand to put one finger in your mouth and you sucked on it, making Johnny audibly moan under you.

You froze immediately when you felt his naked body touch yours, his hardened cock poked the skin of your lower back.

"Relax, I won't do anything you don't want" he assured you in a low voice against your neck. You received wet kisses on your back and shoulders.

Johnny moaned, his fingers tracing your thighs "Feels so good like that" he purred, and you nodded in agreement. He grabbed your hips but Simon quickly slapped his hands away.

Johnny blinked, confused, but then smirked when Simon started to guide your movements by the hips, slowly and gradually changing the speed to fit what you seemed to respond better to. He guided your body on Johnny in a way that made his cock touch you precisely in the right places. You barely had to do any work, so you rested your head on Simon's chest, only opening your eyes to watch Johnny's face under you.

Johnny rubbed his thumb softly on your clit, making very small movements around it. You moved accordingly, enjoying the way the pressure created a response deep within your stomach. You panted on top of him, exhausted but eager to continue, your body guiding you toward release.

The obscene sounds you made were thankfully muffled by the heavy rain outside. You felt your orgasm reach you with the growing rumbles in the sky, which eventually resulted in a violent lightning, not that far from the window. You let your body rest on Simon's chest after the wave of pleasure washed over you.

"You did so good, bonnie" Johnny sat up to kiss your face, and laid back down.

Simon pulled your hips back gently, indicating you should stand on your knees. Intuitively, you positioned yourself so that you could put your lips around Johnny's cock. He closed your eyes when you did.

"Look at her, Johnny" Simon ordered.

He held your hips firmly in place, then pressed into you slowly, savoring how the wet heat between your legs welcomed him.

Johnny had his head resting on one of his arms, his free hand lazily stroking your face as he watched you struggle to fit him in your mouth. He tried his best to be obedient and focus only on you, but his eyes kept looking up curiously, dying to watch Simon's face as he fucked you.

"God, you feel so fucking good" he whimpered before he started moving his hips, filling you completely with every thrust. You could feel his length messing up your insides and you were grateful to have Johnny's cock keeping you silent.

Simon traced his fingers down your spine, around your waist, then back to your neck. He gently stroked your head and grabbed your hair. You thought he'd pull it, but Simon just pressed the back of your head deeper on Johnny's cock, pulling you back when you gagged, then repeating the same movement again and again. Johnny closed his eyes in an effort not to come so soon from the view alone.

You gave up on your own body for a moment, forgot it was yours to control in the first place, letting it be taken by all their movements like one gets taken by the current at sea.

"'m gonna cum if you keep this up" Johnny announced in a low voice, and you weren't sure if he was talking to you or Simon, but the latter let go of his grip on your hair, unsure of what you wanted to do with that information. You kept going on your own now, until you felt Johnny pulse inside your mouth.

He let out a soft moan as he watched you swallow it. His body finally relaxed on the bed and you felt his fingers search your head and caress your hair.

Simon's movements became slower, almost nonexistent, and you anxiously moved your hips against him to alleviate the desire in your core.

"Don't stop" you begged in a small voice, resting your head on Johnny's thigh, but he did stop. Simon gently pulled your hips back and switched your body so that you were facing him.

"Lay down" he instructed, "I wanna see you".

Johnny's arms guided you to lay on top of him, your back to his chest. He kissed and caressed your head lazily while Simon spread your legs, sinking into you with a grunt.

You moaned loudly when you felt him entirely inside you again.

“Shh!” both of them reprehended you, and Johnny quickly covered your mouth with his hand.

"You wanted him to fuck you like this, huh?" he asked close to your ear and you nodded, unable to speak anything other than little moans that were muffled by his palm. Simon looked at you directly in the eyes, his face subtly contorting in pleasure with every little sound you made.

He pushed into you slowly, delighting himself in the warmth of having you wrapped around him. He tried to memorize the feeling of having your skin against his so he could dwell on it later.

Johnny uncovered your mouth to kiss you, moving his hand to hold you at your waist. The familiar feel of his tongue was both comforting and exciting, your lips searched for his with noticeable hunger. You didn't think you could possibly get more aroused at this point.

You rested your head on Johnny's shoulder, closing your eyes and feeling your body relax now that you've gotten more used to Simon's size inside you.

"Eyes open, love" Simon demanded, and you obeyed.

He kept his gaze on your eyes until he couldn't resist moving on to Johnny's anymore. They looked at each other for what felt like too long, Simon's thrusts into you got more intense, and it made you wonder if you were simply the vessel through which they fucked each other at that instant.

Johnny, who had his hands wandering around your body, now moved them from your breasts to caress Simon's chest on top of you, at first in shy quasi-accidental strokes, and then shamelessly grabbing at his waist, scratching nails on his back once he got a positive reaction.

He pressed his hand against the lower part of your stomach, right where you could feel Simon's cock attempting to tear you open with every thrust, you moaned into Simon's mouth as you felt Johnny getting hard under your body again. Your arousal was dripping down his crotch, his chest already wet from your sweat.

"Hm you're taking him so well, baby" Johnny whispered in your ear and you watched as Simon's eyes darkened at the sound of the words.

You’d lost track of time and sense of space completely. It was so unbelievably indulgent it almost felt wrong, as if you couldn't possibly be allowed to experience this much pleasure all at once in life.

You felt you’d reached some new sense of consciousness in which you did not belong to your body anymore, you've transcended into something else, something in complete harmony with them and their own bodies around you. You were certain for a moment that, if you tried or wanted to, you'd be able to read their minds and communicate without words.

The utter feeling of Love just invaded you in the form of radiating happiness, an epiphany planted in your heart, as if you had been stung by Eros himself and you felt yourself capable of reaching an orgasm without your body. All of a sudden the whole universe seemed to become clear and there were no questions you couldn't answer if you wanted, any doubt you had was gone, and any anxiety dissipated. You almost felt like laughing, relishing - for what was probably the first time - in the wonder of cloudless thoughts.

Simon dropped the support of his hands to his forearms, getting impossibly closer and resting his torso on top of you, the cold and metallic touch of his dog tags against your chest sent a shiver down your spine. Johnny’s hands moved from his waist to your hips, grinding you on top of his hardened cock in search of some relief, which was positioned between your ass cheeks.

You drunkenly intercalated kisses between the two of them, feeling absolutely in control until Simon locked your neck in place with his hand, choking you a little before placing a soft kiss on your lips. “Open” he demanded and you did.

He spit saliva into your mouth and, before you could swallow it, Johnny urgently pulled your face to kiss you, desperately licking your tongue.

"Fuck, Johnny" Simon grunted, digging even deeper into you, attempting to get even closer, making your toes curl. He leaned over and kissed Johnny, and you felt him instantly melt under you. His hands left your body to cup Simon's face.

They moaned into their kisses. You almost felt inadequate being there, as if you weren't supposed to witness that much intimacy, but the thought quickly died down when Simon's lips found yours again, leaving Johnny breathless, and he sealed you back into their little universe.

Your back arched when Johnny moved his fingers to your clit again, you barely needed any stimulation at this point, your legs were tense locked around Simon's hips.

"Come on, baby" Johnny purred in your ear "Let me see you cum all over his cock".

Almost as if on command, you did. The high building up in your lower stomach finally reached its breaking point and crashed into your body in waves of ecstasy. Simon moaned as he felt your entire body pulse and relax under him, he jerked faster into you and then quickly pulled out.

Johnny moved you away from him so that your back rested on the mattress with both of them towering over you, stroking themselves. Simon's eyes rolled back as he came on top of you, a heavy moan leaving his throat as he covered you with the warm gooey liquid that dripped from him.

The sheer sight of it, along with your little moans, was almost enough to get Johnny off immediately, and it only took a few strokes to make him cum again.

You watched them as Simon gently cleaned a bit of his own semen off of Johnny's abdomen with his thumb. He brought the finger close to his face in an offer, and Johnny obediently opened his mouth and sucked it off, receiving a pat on his head and a satisfied smile from his superior afterward.

You laid there exhausted while they cleaned you with tissues, getting little gentle kisses on your skin every once in a while. Simon turned you around on the bed and wiped a soft tissue on your face, removing the remains of mascara you had under your eyes.

It took you a few minutes to eventually get up and use the bathroom, Simon had one all to himself, which meant you didn't have to put your clothes back on.

When you came back, they were both still naked on the bed. Johnny was already asleep, a permanent smile stamped on his face, being only partially covered by the sheets.

"Come here" Simon whispered to you, and you gently climbed over Johnny's body to rest in the space between them.

Johnny sleepily arranged his arms around you, one over your waist and the other under the crease of your neck, his fingers reaching to caress Simon's hair.

Simon kissed your forehead. "This feels nice" he murmured, almost too quietly for you to hear. You looked up to kiss his lips again and rested your head on the pillow, wishing you wouldn't have to get up the next morning.

(now that this is out of my system I can finally move on with my life).

#ghoap x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x soap #soap x reader #cod x reader #cod one shot #ghostsoap

71 notes · View notes