#sorry this was supposed to be a quick little joke post | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

alphabetboyluvr · 3 months

Text

LANDSLIDES - 002 | GUILTY AS SIN - JJK

part title credit: guilty as sin - taylor swift

these fatal fantasies giving way to laboured breath... they don't know how you've haunted me so stunningly... without ever touching his skin how can i be guilty as sin?

pairing: officeworker!jungkook x female reader (coworkers)

premise: jungkook asks you to dog sit over chuseok. he doesn’t ask you to steal the empty spaces in his head, the dreams he’s yet to have, nor the idea of you always just being ‘you’ to him - and yet, like a thief in the night (with his own damn dog as your accomplice), you do. (part one link)

warnings: slow burn (emphasis on slow, emphasis on burn), miscommunication, missed opportunities, missing jungkook, inappropriate mentions of masturbation between friends, frustration (sexually and emotionally!)

wordcount: 18K

note from holly: this was supposed to be a 30k chunk but the 1000 paragraph limit told me no </3 so instead, this is part 1 - part 2 will come tomorrow :)

minors dni // cross posted to wattpad

When Jungkook comes to stand by your desk, his freshly pressed suit unspoiled from his morning commute and with a coffee in either hand, you know he must be up to something.

"Let me guess," you hum. "You dipped your nib in the company ink again and need me to do damage control?"

It wouldn't be the first time, and the new secretary has been ogling him ever since she started just before the Chuseok break. You've joked about it a few times, but you really wouldn't put it past him.

Popping your coffee on your desk, Jungkook toys with his tie a little, smoothing it down. "Why do you always think so little of me, you little gremlin?"

His pouty whine would be believable if you didn't know him as well as you do. Glancing up from your screen, you're greeted with a smirk. Even he can't keep up his pretence of innocence. "You know exactly why."

"I'm a good boy," he promises. "Got you coffee and everything this morning!"

"Because you want something," you laugh. "I wasn't born yesterday, Jungkook."

"Can a friend not get a friend a coffee just because?"

"Yes—but you don't."

In fact, Jungkook normally waits until midday for his first coffee. Treats it like a reward for getting through the morning without any caffeine. He's gone out of his way today—or just ordered coffee to the office to make it look like he has. Regardless, an effort has been made.

He takes a second. Purses his lips. Narrows his eyes.And then he smiles. "Fine. I need a favour."

"See, I knew it was too good to be true!"

"Oh, c'mon!" He laughs. "I'd get you coffee if you asked."

"I asked last week when I was running late, and you told me to wake up earlier and get it myself!"

"Well, it was your own fault for being out until arse o'clock in the morning!"

Your fault, you think but don't vocalise. It's not like you'd been out with him. You'd been on a date. Another with Mingyu. Hadn't stuck to your word of cooling things off. Spooked yourself with those dreams about Jungkook. Needed to bring yourself back to reality.

If he hadn't asked you to dogsit, you never would have gotten so caught in the domestication of it all. It's your biggest weakness and he damn well knows it. If anything, he should be thanking you for choosing to realign your focus instead of leaning into silly little thoughts about him. It also helps that in the cold, harsh light of Monday mornings, the thoughts just make you cringe more than anything.

"Sorry, Dad," you roll your eyes. "Didn't realise I had to ask your permission."

Jungkook's lips purse in the gentlest of ways, corners upturning ever so slightly. He shakes his head. "You're cranky this morning."

"And you're up to something," you reply. Have barely even had a chance to look over your weekend emails yet, let alone prepare yourself for Jungkook being a nuisance. His department is two floors up. There's no need for him to be here.

In the corner of your screen, an email pings through. Though your glance is quick, it connects a flurry of dots together.

Subject: International Food Expo - we're in!

The company you work at is the head office of a chain restaurant. Jungkook works in franchising—negotiations, specifically. Gets the restaurant placed in the best locations. Recently landed a spot in Starfield Mall. Got himself a nice little bonus.

You're over in the interior design team. It's a small cohort, just three of you, but you're responsible for ensuring cohesion amongst all the spaces. It's up to you that customers get the same feel whether they're in Seoul or Sokcho.

Both starting the job at the same time, directly after graduation, Jungkook had approached you with a strategy in mind. Roped you into creating the interior mood boards and mapping out the spaces before they'd even been acquired. Gave life to them that made it so much easier for investors to imagine.

It had been seen by management as a waste of resources before then—why waste time creating hypotheticals?

They just hadn't yet experienced Jungkook, and all of his charm, pitching for them, using your content to tip negotiations in his favour. It's a partnership that works. Is a practice now adopted by the company across the board, thanks to the pair of you. It's why you work together so often, even if you're on completely different floors and dealing with such vastly different tasks.

"I've been asked to go along," he says, nodding towards the screen. "Little old me is our brand ambassador for the week."

"Congrats," you beam, knowing that Jungkook is the best man for the job. He loves the company. Really believes in the restaurant. Clicking into the email, you scan the details. "A week of schmoozing, huh? However will you cope?"

He's about to joke about how tiresome it'll be, but then you hum in confusion.

"Jeju?" You question, looking at the location. You scroll, just to check you aren't imagining things—but there it is, clear as day. Location: International Conference Center, Jeju. "All the way in bloody Jeju?!"

"It's for international markets," he says, putting his best guess out there. "Seoul's been done a hundred times over for different Expos. Busan, too. I think they're trying to attract more foreign companies—and would the CEO's rather send themselves on city breaks or island getaways? Anyway, that's actually the favour I wanted to ask you..."

It all sort of clicks into place, now. "Bam?"

With a sweet nod, Jungkook offers a gentle smile. "You know there's no one I'd rather look after him. The trip is four days, Tuesday to Friday. If it's too much, I can book him into a kennel, but—"

"No," you shake your head. "Don't do that. You know I'm happy to look after him."

"Sure?"

Jungkook would rather die than leave Bam at a Kennel for the week. He doesn't trust anyone with his baby unless they've proved themselves, but the way you happily cuddle up with Bam on the floor of Jungkook's apartment on any given day of the week is proof enough to him that you love him, too.

If he's gonna trust anyone with his most prized possession, it'd be you.

"One condition," you bargain, 'cause you know that you can. Jungkook'll do anything to have you agree.

"Go on..."

"Have you replaced all the cheese I ate last time I looked after him?"

He narrows his eyes. "Yes."

"Good," you beam. "And could you be a babe and make me some of your pad kee mao? The sauce at least? I can do the rest."

If there's one thing Jungkook will never fail to impress you with, it's his cooking—but your favourite of all of his dishes is his Thai drunken chicken noodles. He imports the special basil needed for it. Goes an extra mile to make sure it's just right. You haven't been to your favourite Thai place since you learned just how well he makes the dish. Will just send him a text when you fancy it, and end up at his place an hour or so later with beers from the convenience store and ice cream sandwiches to chuck in his freezer for dessert.

"That it?" He laughs. "Cheese and noodles? God, you are easily pleased."

"I'm a woman of refined tastes," you say, pompously poised.

Jungkook knows you well enough to know you're no such thing, but he needs this favour, so he doesn't bite. Just says, "And you're sure?"

"I'm sure," you promise. "Now leave me alone. I've got work to do—and thanks for the coffee."

He nods, that little smile of his affecting you far more than it really should. You can't help it. The lighting in your office is far nicer than the rest of the establishment. Makes him look... well, makes him look like himself. Like 'home' Jungkook. The same one who hangs out with you in sweats and messy hair on Sunday mornings, not the suited and clean-shaven Jungkook who swaggers through the corridors of your workplace.

Three of you work in your specific office, and you're all interior designers. Changing the bulbs was one of the first things you did. Lea, your manager, is the most senior in your team. Below you is Jiwon. A fresh graduate, she's still learning the ropes, and as much as you like her, you really wish she wouldn't go all heart-eyed over Jungkook every time he enters the room.

It's not her fault. The warm bulbs just bring out all of those terrible, intrusive little stars in his chocolatey brown eyes. They're terrible, 'cause they're stolen from other people; intrusive, 'cause as he walks away and your gaze follows him, it seems like they've landed in your eyes, too. A secret shared that neither of you even realises exists.

"How do you do it?" Jiwon sighs once Jungkook is out of earshot. "I'd melt if he looked at me like that."

"He looks at everyone like that," you deflect. "And trust me, he's just as disgusting as he is charming. Don't let the tailored suits fool you."

It's been a little while since Jungkook last used the copier room for indecent affairs that would have gotten anyone else into a meeting with HR. Workplace violations are far easier to get away with when you're doing them with someone from the HR department, after all.

Jiwon joined the team just as Jungkook was curbing his bad behaviour. Granted, you know about more of it than most, but everyone who was lucky enough to grab his attention for more than five seconds used it as bragging rights for months.

One thing that you did enjoy about Jungkook's slut era was the lack of women he ever took home. Didn't want to introduce new people to Bam, if they were only going to be fleeting endeavours.

But you're his friend, not a casual fuck. He knew that bringing you into the fold wouldn't be fast nor fleeting. It'd be a lifetime kinda thing.

Which is what makes you feel so guilty as you stand by the water cooler a little later that morning, daydreaming about being back in his space again. Silly little thoughts about facetime calls when you were wrapped up in his sheets, and he was back at his parents' place in Busan. Memories of lazing the days away with Bam, and the look on Jungkook's face as he finally arrived home after a few days away.

You've seen him at home a million times over, but there was something different about him then. Serene. At peace. You know that he was probably just happy to be back with his baby, and tired from driving, but the lazy smile that had hung off his lips, round glasses framing his equally round eyes, just seemed... new.

Your thoughts are cut off by your boss—not Lea, but your actual boss, Mr Seo—calling you into his office. A little flustered, you realise that you've been running the water for too long. Your bottle has overfilled, and the excess tray is almost full, too.

"Hi," you greet him all rather pleasantly, waiting to be told to sit before you actually do so. "What can I help you with?"

A burly man in his late 50s, he built the brand from the ground up. It's been his life's work, and so he's selective with his staff. If you aren't pulling your weight to make the company a success, then he doesn't want you tying your name to it.

When you and Jungkook started going rogue in the early days, he hadn't been happy—but Jungkook had blagged a probation extension for the pair of you. Had told Mr Seo he'd work for free, if he could just prove his strategy would work.

In the version of events Jungkook tells you, he pretends that Mr Seo agreed without docking his pay. Filed away in the back of his cabinet which houses his contracts, past and present, Jungkook has a written agreement with Mr Seo, and a month's worth of missing wages in his salary from that year.

Your pay was never docked, though. Jungkook's a damn good negotiator, and was just as competent back then, too. He was the one that got you into that damn mess in the first place, so it was only fair that he keep you as clean as he could.

What you do know is that you both cut it incredibly fine to losing your jobs before they ever really began. While Mr Seo respects you both for what you've done for the company since then, it still scares you a little bit.

"I trust you've seen the email regarding the Expo, yes?" He says, nodding towards the chair on the opposite side of his desk.

You take it in a hurried fashion, quickly sitting down because, quite frankly, it feels like your legs are jelly. "Yes, yes. Very exciting! I'm sure Jungkook will bring the company great results."

He nods. Agrees. "And I also trust you've been making plans for our stand?"

You learned of the expo approximately fifty minutes prior. Like fuck have you made any plans.

"Oh, of course!" You bullshit. "As long as we can work out the logistics with shipping our materials to the island in time, it should be brilliant."

How the fuck you're supposed to plan a stand at an Expo for a week's time on a different bloody island is beyond you.

You'll get it done. You always do. You'll just be incredibly stressed about it until the event begins.

"Naturally," he nods. I know the turnaround is tight, so we'd like you to go with Jungkook to oversee the preparations. He arrives on Tuesday, but the event doesn't start until Wednesday evening, so you'll have a day to finalise things."

"Oh," you say, unable to hide your surprise.

"Flight and accommodation will be covered by us, and Jungkook's getting a healthy bonus for any deals signed at the Expo—I'm sure we can make a cut for you, too. After all, you two are our very own dream team."

You take a moment to gather your thoughts. You want to go. Of course you want to. A trip to Jeju with one of your closest friends? Under the guise of work? All expenses paid? Who wouldn't want to go?!

But without you in the city, there's no one to look after Bam. Sure, Jungkook could take him to a kennel, but you know what he's like. He'll spend the entire time stressed. Won't be able to relax and engage with people in such a way that deals will be cut. Punters usually like him for his carefree nature. Without it? Well, you're sure they'd like him all the same, but you don't want to tempt fate.

"Mr Seo," you awkwardly begin, uncertain which answer will slip out of your mouth. "I'm afraid I already have commitments in the city that I can't cancel. I'm not available."

Silence lingers for a moment. Just a second. It feels like an eternity.

"Very well," he accepts.

"I'm sorry," you quickly apologise, knowing that you probably look like an ungrateful employee. If there's one thing you are, it's a fixer, and so before you can even comprehend what you're saying, you're throwing solutions into the void. "But I know Jiwon is just itching to get more involved with different sides of the business. I can get her on board with my planning this week and coach her on Jungkook's strategies. I'm sure she'd be eager to work hard, if she were given the opportunity."

Mr Seo mulls over your proposition—one of you which you already regret—then nods. "Alright. I'll trust your judgement. Can you send her down to my office?"

"Sure!" You say with a little too much glee, before you retreat back to your office with your tail between your legs. Lea is at a meeting, so once Jiwon has been sent on her way, it's just you, your water bottle, and a whole lot of regret.

Laying your head on your desk, you let out a little whimper.

It's for the best. For the company, for Jungkook, for you. For the sanctity of your friendship. For your sanity.

A message dinging through on your work chat interrupts your self-pity party. Glancing up, head still on the desk, you see Jungkook's name in the corner of your screen.

Jeon Jungkook, Franchising: oi you little gremlin

Jeon Jungkook, Franchising: i could have booked him into a kennel

"Shut up," you groan at your screen.

Jeon Jungkook, Franchising: it would have been fun :(

Sitting up with a sigh, you poise yourself to send a message back. Find that nothing wants to come out. Your fingers hover above your keyboard with uncertainty. Takes a full minute before you can muster anything up.

Two floors above you, Jungkook is slumped in his desk chair. Has an office of his own, 'cause it's easier for the amount of meetings he has.

In the background of his screen, an email thread with Mr Seo details how Jungkook was the one to ask Mr Seo if you could join him. Explained how it just made sense. Offered part of his bonus package up with it. Said he'd cover the extra expenses if necessary, but that he thought it would be beneficial to the company to have you there, too.

While you're the person Jungkook trusts the most with Bam, you're not the only one. He could always ask Jimin or Taehyung before resorting to a kennel.

As your reply comes through, another email from Mr Seo is delivered, too.

RE: IFE JEJU, Interior Des. Department

Jungkook—

Have spoken with Jiwon. She will accompany you.

Any problems, let me know.

Mr Seo

With a sigh, Jungkook shakes his head. This isn't what he wanted at all.

And when he checks your message, he only frowns even deeper. Unlike you, he's renamed your contact details on his list. Everyone else still has their work-focused username.

Gremlin: It's your lucky day

Gremlin: You get a hot young thing to keep you company instead, wooo

Gremlin: HR if you're reading this, ignore it

Gremlin: Try not to be too miserable without me

He sinks down a little further into his chair. Purses his lips. Would far rather be alone than with anyone that isn't you.

Chewing on his bottom lip, he decides that maybe this is for the best. While he does think it would be good for the company, he knows that isn't why he suggested it. He just remembers what happened last time he spent more than a weekend away from you. Is scared it'll happen again.

Or maybe it's the opposite. Maybe he wants it to happen again. Just you and him, away from the confines of life as you know it.

Thing is, you'd have to return home at some point. If anything ever happened between you both, it'd change the very fabric of your friendship. He doesn't want that.

So instead, he decides to reply in the same way he would have done maybe a year or so prior.

Jeon Jungkook, Franchising: She'll fall in love with me

Jeon Jungkook, Franchising: They always do

Jeon Jungkook, Franchising: Don't say I didn't warn you.

In the warm lighting of Jungkook's living room, the main light is off, lamps providing you with just enough clarity to go over the files on his coffee table.

Over by the sink, Jungkook is washing up your plates from dinner, while Bam leans against his legs. Your overnight bag is still by the door, and Jungkook's glasses are in your hair, keeping it out of your eyes. Highlighter in hand, you're picking out key markets for Jungkook to make contact with over in Jeju.

"Avoid Babiyeo," you tell him, switching over to a thin red pen, putting a star next to their name.

"As in the leisure centres?" Jungkook hums, familiar with the company but not well-versed. The soft melody of his playlist carries a tune around you both, keeping your thoughts connected and in sync.

"Mhmm," you say, flicking over to the next paper. "The CEO's son is in legal trouble at the moment. They're keeping it fairly well covered up, but to do that they're making huge expansions they can't afford. Keeping the news positive, things like that. I reckon they'll go bust before the end of the year."

"Shit," Jungkook lets a breathy laugh escape his lips. Had no idea—but you've both got friends working in various industries. Have your arms dipped into numerous grapevines. Drying up the last of his bowls, he turns to face you and is unable to continue on with his words.

He gets it. Understands why domestication is your biggest vice when it comes to feeling things you shouldn't.

"Acorn Limited are also bad news," you add, putting a little star next to their name.

"Yeah?"

Jungkook puts the now-dry bowl on the counter and walks towards where you're sitting on his living room floor. He joins. Sits on the opposite side of the table. Lets Bam clamber over his legs, and encourages him to sit, too.

"Yeah," you nod, then look across at Jungkook. "They're a hot-shot protein company. Are trying to get themselves partnerships with different restaurants. The guy running it is some twat from Singles Inferno. Company'll be done by the next quarter."

"Some of them do alright, y'know. Reality stars are raking it in—"

"He's besties with the Babiyeo CEO's son," you tell him with a knowing smile. "Kept getting pictured together outside clubs. Whatever baby Babiyeo has been up to, I'm willing to bet the acorn guy has been, too."

Jungkook presses his lips together. Accepts your expertise. Nods, then sighs, "You should be coming on the trip. I can't do this without you."

Yes, he can. He's more than capable. Has closed more deals than most people have had hot dinners.

What he means is that he doesn't want to do it without you, but admitting such a thing verges on territory that Jungkook doesn't feel comfortable entering.

In the house he likes to call his mind, he's bolted the door of the annexe. Occasionally, he will sit and stare at the locks. Wonder if maybe he made a mistake locking you—or more specifically, the idea of you—away in there.

But then he watches Bam choose to shuffle around to your side of the coffee table, and watches as he rests his head on your leg. His snout is by your knee, sniffing at your bare skin with his wet nose. There's something familiar about you. Safe. You don't smell like Jungkook, but you still manage to smell like home, in a way.

"Bam would be even more lost without me," you softly say, scratching behind his ear, and it does admittedly give Jungkook a little solace.

"True," Jungkook accepts, then sighs.

It's getting late and he's got to be up early for his flight. Is leaving for his flight at just gone 3AM, so you're staying over. Crashing on the couch, 'cause having a home gym was more important than setting up a spare room. Thankfully you've never known a couch to be so cosy. Have fallen asleep on it a dozen times over, and it's yet to make you ache in the mornings.

It's all very normal, how you set into a routine. He lets you wash up first. Sorts out Bam while you sort out yourself. Doesn't need to, but writes you out a list of feeding times and emergency numbers. Grabs a spare blanket—one Bam hasn't slept on, but by the morning definitely will have—and turns the sofa into something that really does resemble a bed.

"Sure you're gonna be alright out here?" He asks when you come back through.

He ignores the teeny tiny shirt and even tinier shorts you like to call pyjamas. Or at least he does as much as he can. Doesn't mean to look at your ass. Does it regardless. Four times.

"Yeah," you promise, grabbing a bottle of water from his fridge. There are containers full of his speciality noodle sauce and enough cheese to keep you very happy for the next few days. He got an extra block of the one he knows you like the most as a thank you. "Go to bed. Get your beauty sleep, uggers."

"Hey, you need it just as much as I do," he assures you, then tips his head and makes a small click with his tongue. "C'mon, Bammie, bedtime."

The sound of his paws tapping across Jungkook's hardwood floors is ever-so-soothing. It's hard to be in a house with a pet and not inherently feel like home, you think.

"Night night, Bammie," you coo after him. He turns back. Tilts his head, just like his daddy. Trots on over to you for a few more scratches behind his ears. Doesn't leave until you tell him, "Go find your daddy."

Glancing up to Jungkook with a sweet little scrunch of your nose, you hadn't called him that name to take the piss for a change. The scrunch of your nose is actually an outward display of your inward cringe. Jungkook just scrunches his up right back.

"Gross," he whispers, then holds his hand out for Bam to sniff. "Night, Gremlin."

"Night, Kook."

The sharp sound of Bam's bark snaps you awake. The room is dark, but enough light bleeds in through the blinds for you to see Jungkook awkwardly trying to shush him. Rucksack slung over one shoulder, he's holding a bag with his other hand.

"Leaving without saying bye?" You sleepily mumble, rubbing at your eyes with a yawn.

"Didn't wanna wake you," he whispers. Bam, apparently, had different ideas. "He knows I'm leaving."

"What time is it?" you ask, still totally out of it.

"Just gone three," Jungkook says. It'll take him an hour to get across to Incheon, and even though he knows it won't take him much time to get through security, he still likes to be on time. Would have been easier if he was flying from Gimpo, but he's guessing Incheon must have been cheaper.

Nodding, you adjust your body to sit up, and reach out for one of the files on the coffee table. Hold it across for him.

Popping down his bags, Jungkook takes it with great interest.

"Here. I was having a think before bed. Did a little research on an American company that's gonna be at the Expo. Their head marketer has shares in a bunch of baseball-related companies. Get pally with him," you mumble, thoughts not really cognitive, but you've written it all down for him regardless. "Talk to him about the K-league, or something, I dunno. I reckon Mr Seo would shit his pants if we expanded into stadiums and sports venues."

Jungkook flicks over the notes. Nods. Doesn't know how the fuck you manage to find out half the shit you do, but knows you're wasted on the interior design department.

"See," he softly whines. "This is why you should be coming with me."

"You'll be fine," you promise him, then yawn a little bit all over again. You woke up at the worst possible time.

"You can take my bed, y'know," Jungkook offers. "I'll be gone in a minute or so. It's all yours."

Would be weird getting into his bed while it's still warm, you think.

Shaking your head, terribly covering a yawn, you insist it's fine. He begs to differ, so you double down—until all very suddenly, your notes are tossed onto the sofa beside you, and Jungkook is pulling you over his shoulder. Yelping from the surprise, you don't have time to cognitively respond, let alone demand to be put down.

He wouldn't listen anyways. Instead, he walks you across to his room, and tosses you down on his half-made bed. It's a little haphazard, he finds himself leaning a little too far forward. Almost ends up on there with you. Finds that his blood pumps just a little faster through his veins for a nanosecond.

God, he wishes he wasn't leaving.

Or that you were coming with him, at least.

Can't bear to tear himself away from you when you're all sleepy and sweet and—Oh get a grip, man.

"There," he says triumphantly, pushing his thoughts well out of reach. "Now, go back to sleep, alright? I'll let you know when I fly."

Sitting up on your heels, you find yourself unsure of how to say goodbye—and so you don't really say much at all. Just mumble, "Fly safe."

"Will do," he nods, then exits his room to give Bam a farewell that is just as rough and tumble as yours had been. "Be good for the gremlin, Bammie."

"Fuck off!" You call through, knowing that you'll forever be known as a gremlin, even on your deathbed, you're sure. Tucking yourself under his duvet, you're secretly comforted by how warm his bed still is. Smells just like him, too. "Bye Kook."

"Sleep tight!"

With that, the door slams shut, and everything feels a little colder. Bam whines by the door. Scratches at it a little. Begs for Jungkook to come home.

"Bammie," you call through. "C'mere!"

The way he excitedly bounds through Jungkook's apartment and jumps up onto the bed is borderline comical. He's not used to people being in the house after Jungkook goes out. Thought he was alone—but now he knows he's not, he's quite content. Nuzzles his snout into the duvet and flops his body down on yours. Doesn't realise he's not still a puppy, but you don't mind.

Moments like these make you realise that you definitely did make the right decision.

But moments that come a little later fill you with regret—like the picture that is sent to the office by Jungkook on the work messenger. Working hard or hardly working? He captions it.

The photo is of the booth that's been set up to look like a beach house version of the restaurant. The intention was for it to look like a 'Jeju' branch, of which you're yet to open— but it looks bloody fantastic. How you were able to wrangle contractors and suppliers in such a last-minute rush was nothing short of a miracle.

And yet—

Good work guys!

Wow, looks great!

Jungkook and Jiwon, doing us proud!

Dream team! Good luck!

It's that last one that really bothers you. Dream team. Exactly what you and Jungkook have always been called in the office—but you're easily replaced, apparently. It's your own fault. You're the one who said she should go instead.

It doesn't stop you from walking around with a face of thunder for the whole day. Not a scrap of work gets done. All you can do is lament your choices.

Still, you get to go home to Bam, and that does admittedly soften the blow.

"Show me him," Jungkook immediately whines when he calls later that evening.

You shake your head. "Tell me about the day first."

"That's so not fair."

"Quicker you tell me, quicker I show–"

"Fine," he scowls at you, but softens his expression almost immediately. Yawns. His shoulders press up to his ears as the rest of his face scrunches up. He's lying down on his hotel bed, the crisp white sheets not too dissimilar from his ones back home that you'll be curled up in later that night. "The set up was fine. Most of the vendors are here already. I'm so mad we didn't manage to snag a slot in the catering tent, yanno? Give people a chance to try our menu, but whatever. There's always next year, right?"

"Right," you nod. Yawn, too—and then adorably so does Bam. "It's our first year there. We're just making our presence known. Bigger and better things next year."

"Exactly. Now show me Bam."

His impatience makes you smile. You're just about to tap the switch camera icon, when a sweet, feminine voice echoes through your speaker.

"Did you say something, Jungkook?"

He glances over the sound of the voice, and then flicks his eyes back to you. Gets a read on your face as quickly as he can before you flip the camera, 'cause you're not really sure how much your face is giving away, but you know your surprise wasn't hidden.

"Er, no," he says to the girl. "Just checking in back home—"

"Oh, is that your puppy?" the voice, of which you know all too well, squeals. There's a slight ruffle of sheets as Jiwon tucks herself beside Jungkook. Hair a little damp, the straps of her top are loose against her skin. "Oh my gosh, isn't he the sweetest."

"Isn't he just?" you reply with a smile so fucking fake that it's a good job the camera isn't on you. There's a look on Jungkook's face that you don't really understand. He almost looks guilty—but there's nothing to feel guilty about. He can do what he likes. "Gonna take him for a walk in a bit, then I'm just gonna pop out for half an hour to see Mingyu."

"Are you taking Bam with you?" Jungkook asks, brows a little hard, the ridge between them nicely defined.

"Hadn't planned on it," you chirp, your face just as hard as his. "But I can take him to meet Mingyu, if you like?"

Jungkook swallows. Tries to pretend as if his jaw isn't tense. Is incredibly stern when he says, "Rather him not meet new people when I'm not around."

"Sure," you say, then flick the camera back to you. Are pleased to see nonchalance sitting prettily on your features, no matter how perplexed you might feel."I should be off, though! Call me if you need anything."

"Wait!" Jiwon says quickly, clearly unaware of the weirdness between you and Jungkook. She sees you bickering all the time, so must just figure this is what you're like when you're not ripping each other's heads off. "Just wanted to say thank you—I'm so glad I'm here."

Jungkook's eyes focus on your face as Jiwon gives even more thanks. He doesn't understand the sudden attitude you've developed. All he wanted was to see Bam, but you've a face like a slapped arsed and are trying to hang up. It's fuckin' rude, and if Jiwon wasn't there, he'd tell you so.

He lets you hang up. Doesn't ask you to stay.

"She alright?" Jiwon innocent chirps after you go. "She seems a little..."

"Just tired," Jungkook dismisses. "I woke her up at like, three this morning when I was leaving."

"Oh? She was at your place?"

It's really none of Jiwon's business, but Jungkook chalks it up to her being young, and unaware of when to keep her mouth shut.

"Yeah," he states definitively and plainly, ending the conversation. Heads to the bathroom to clear his head. Turns the shower up to just as hot as the one at his house has been ever since you left his apartment the last time.

'Cause Jungkook's been lying to himself.

There's no lock on the damn annexe. Or at least not from the outside.

The annexe has everything he needs. He's been sitting there, inside, quite comfortably with you for a little while now.

He really did think you were gonna call things off with Mingyu.

Is unaware that Mingyu got left on read four days ago after another dull, fruitless 'how was your day', 'fine thanks, and you?' conversation. As hot as he may be, he doesn't challenge you. Excite you. Anger you. Make you feel any kind of passion.

Which is funny, 'cause you find yourself reaching for a bottle of wine that you know is far too expensive for a Tuesday night glass, just to piss Jungkook off from afar and well in advance of him ever realising what you've done.

Just like you mentioned going to see Mingyu just to get a reaction out of Jungkook.

Childish as it may be, you feel threatened. People praising Jiwon in your place already made you feel insecure at work, and now she's in his hotel room in a state of near undress? Something about it just irks you.

It shouldn't.

It shouldn't, it shouldn't, it shouldn't.

But it does.

And so you spend your evening on Jungkook's couch with cheese, wine and Bam. Put Love, Rosie on, 'cause it's your favourite guilty pleasure film and you think it'll cheer you up.

Instead, you end up silently sobbing by the halfway point, Bam only snuggling into you even further. Can understand that you're upset. Comforts in the only way he knows how.

Sleep is hard to come by that evening. You're full of wine and cheese, so it should be easy. Lights out as soon as you close your eyes—but you toss and turn, and with every move, the scent of him wafts even deeper into your senses. Any further and it might just enter your bloodstream. Seep down into your heart.

By the time morning comes, you feel even more rotten than you did the night before. Have slept on it all. Know that he hasn't done anything wrong, which only makes you feel even more stupid for being so annoyed.

You've also slept on the idea he might have slept with Jiwon. It wouldn't be out of character, but it would be the first person in your department he's shagged. It's always been out of bounds. He knows this. For the same reason you wouldn't shag anyone he works closely with. It'd just be weird. Make meetings uncomfortable.

When you call on your walk that morning, you half hope he won't pick up.

But he does. He always will.

"Hey," he says a little breathlessly. A towel is whipped over his shoulder, sweat dappling his skin. There's something so devastatingly beautiful about mid-workout Jungkook. "Sorry, didn't think you'd call."

Almost as if you're looking for reasons to be annoyed, you take offence to this.

"I always call?"

"Well, yeah, but you were so fuckin' weird last night," he laughs, heading out of the gym and into an empty corridor of the hotel.

"I wasn't anything," you reply back with a scowl—and realise how terribly you're hiding your annoyance. Flick the camera over so it focuses on Bam as he trots along the path. "Just tired."

It's the same excuse he bullshitted to Jiwon. Knows you're talking bollocks.

"Even Jiwon asked what was wrong with you—"

"Oh, well I'm terribly sorry to have inconvenienced you, Jungkook," you snap, completely unjustified. It's too late, though. You've started. Have to see it through. "But if you don't mind, I'm responsible for your pet right now and I'd rather not be having this conversation when I need to be focusing on a million other things at once."

"Fine," Jungkook snaps right back. All he wants is to see Bam, but he doesn't want to be having this conversation either. "But you know what? Don't bother calling back until you've taken that stick out from up your arse."

You shouldn't be surprised when Jungkook hangs up.

But you are.

For the second time in as many days, you find yourself crying.

Oh, it's all so pathetic! And stupid! There's no need for it, you think.

Thankfully you're not too far from home—Jungkook's home, that is—so you can cut the walk a little short as long as you come home at lunch to check on Bam, too.

You don't even really understand why you're fighting with him. Wish you weren't.

When Jungkook zips open his suit bag as he's getting ready for the Expo opening ceremony, he finds himself wishing just the same.

Tucked on top of his blazer is a brand new tie; one of which he most definitely did not put there.

An incredibly muted bronze and black paisley pattern swirls over the material, and on top rests a note.

Jungkook rubs his face with a flat palm. Rakes it through his hair. Swallows back the awkward heat prickling at his eyes and the tickle in his throat. Doesn't wanna bawl.

But then he reads the note, and he just can't stop himself.

Dad!!!

You're gonna do great!!!!

Come home soon tho :(((((

Woof woof!!!!!!!

Your Bammie <333

P.S. I'm colour blind but the gremlin said this one is the same colour as me!!! Do you miss me??? I miss you!!!!!

The first time you had ever learned of Jungkook's tattoos was in a dive bar a few blocks over from work. It was just after you'd pulled off your first deal together—the one that set your working relationship in stone—and you'd both been blowing off steam.

The walls were red, and so were your cheeks, blushed from the heat of what it felt like to sit beside him in a tatty booth.

So used to sitting across from him at meeting tables, something about it changed your dynamic. Any threats of being on opposing teams were whittled down to nothing more than a life that could have been.

He had your back. You had his.

Blazer off, his sleeves were rolled up. You didn't ask him about a single one of the tattoos, like he half thought you might.

Instead, you just accepted him as he was. Didn't stroke your index finger up his arm, tracing the lines, like most girls do as an excuse to get better acquainted with him.

That night he made a promise to himself to never ruin the working relationship you have together.

You work too well to jeopardise it. He has goals. Knew, even back then, that you'd help him achieve his aspirations, like some sort of twin flame type of shit he didn't believe in.

Didn't. Past tense.

These days, when you think of Jungkook and his tattoos, you always think of the snake. It's the one you see most frequently for it's so close to his wrist. Have always understood snakes to represent change.

Jungkook is yet to shed his skin. He's still just the same as he always was, you think, as you get in the lift and head up towards your office floor.

Just 'cause he hadn't hooked up with anyone from the office in a while didn't mean that he'd changed his ways. More fool you for thinking that he might've.

And it's not like it even matters at all. Who he lays down with is none of your concern. You've never cared before. Not really.

It's just that you've been going to sleep in his sheets. Eating dinner he prepared in advance for you. Waking up to his pup excitedly doing zoomies around the room, 'cause he's ready for his walk.

When you get home, you put Bam's leash up next to your coat, which is hung on top of Jungkook's. Kick your shoes off by a pair of his. Use his shower gel when you get washed, and wistfully tuck yourself up into the armchair you helped him pick out for his bedroom. It's tucked in the corner. Is perfect for watching the world roll by.

You know you should have just called him this morning. Spent the entire walk stubbornly hoping that he would instead, but he's just as childish as you are.

You've bickered with him a hundred times over since you first met him, but never like this.

The elevator dings to a stop, pulling you from your tiresome thoughts of Jungkook. Pulling your body from its slumped leaning stature against the mirrored walls, you trudge into a place that endlessly reminds you of him.

Impossible to escape, is Jungkook. Perhaps that's it. Maybe you've just had enough of each other. Need a little time to breathe.

Everyone else who started at the company around the same time as you has already left. It's just you and Jungkook still here from the small pool of fresh graduates that had been taken under Mr Seo's wing.

But you like it here. Like your job. The salary you earn is great—far more than you would get anywhere else.

Again, you don't know this, but Jungkook's always negotiated on your behalf behind closed doors. He makes the company far more money, and does admittedly get a pretty huge bonus every year according to the amount of deals closed.

That being said, he also stomps down to Mr Seo's office in the fourth quarter when news of the next fiscal year's raises are shared. Will demand that your base salary is matched to his. Has threatened, on numerous occasions, to call for a pay disparity audit from external forces if your wage isn't boosted up, even if it means his is cut down to make up for it.

You went out on a limb trusting him in the early days. This is how he repays you.

That's just friendship, though, he thinks. You help him, he helps you.

He also knows you'd probably be annoyed if you ever found out he meddled with things like that.

The girls in the accounting office always think it's so lovely whenever they see the pay increases. Yours and Jungkook's are never quite what they should be, and they know exactly why. It's why they always ask you how he is whenever you go to drop off inventory reports and materials lists with the lead accountant.

You think they just fancy the pants off him.

Which is also true.

And it's also why a couple of them are curiously standing outside your office space, giggling like school girls as you approach it.

"Morning," you smile, then laugh a little too at their giddy excitement—but when you turn the corner and realise what they're so smitten over, you're a little lost for words.

Sitting on your desk is quite possibly the largest bouquet of flowers you've ever seen. Peonies, you think from afar. Pretty and pale pink, they're in a glass vase. Two dozen easily, if not more, blooming just for you.

"Oh," you hum, because it's hardly what you expect to walk into on a Thursday morning.

Mingyu flashes through your head, but you haven't heard a peep from him since you last let your conversation dissolve over the weekend. He has no reason to send you flowers.

But nor does anyone else.

"We tried working out the message," one of them admits. "But whoever your secret admirer is, they're hell-bent on keeping it secret!"

Shameless, you think, suppressing a well-natured laugh. They've got balls to admit that they've read the note.

Walking to your desk, you see it sitting atop of the flowers, and read it for yourself.

Anyone reading the note who knows a single non-superficial thing about the mystery sender would know who it is in a heartbeat. All it takes for you to know is to see the name of who it's addressed to.

Bammie—

She's right. It does match you. When I get home we can dress you up in my new tie.

Tell the gremlin that you deserve head scratches.

And extra treats.

And that I miss her.

Glancing over to the girls, who desperately want gossip, you simply shrug. If they've never heard Jungkook talk about Bam before, then they clearly don't know him at all. If he wanted his name on the note, he'd have put it there.

He could have gotten them sent to his apartment. He chose here. But he also chose anonymity.

And so you give him a little grace.

"Your guess is as good as mine," you bullshit with an apologetic smile that no one believes.

Lea just looks at you from across the room with a raised brow. Waits until the girls leave, then says, "That's not the kind of bouquet you send a colleague."

She already knows you're looking after Bam. That being said, she hasn't read the card. Has no idea what it says. Just knows that there's only one man you ever talk about with such warmth to be deserving of those flowers from.

"Apparently it is," you shrug, all but confirming who sent them with a coy smile.

"I hope he lets Jiwon down gently," Lea sighs, knowing just as well as you do that she's got a bit of a thing for Jungkook.

What she doesn't know is that it's the exact reason you're fighting with him.

Hell, even he doesn't know that!

So deep in your denial, neither do you.

"Why would he need to?" You downplay it all. Lea doesn't know about the awkward call Jiwon inserted herself into, or the fact you've already decided that he must have fucked her. "Like I said, apparently these are the kind of flowers sent by just a colleague."

Lea shakes her head. Has been observing you and Jungkook for years. Was waiting for a Christmas party, or one of those nightmarish summer tennis tournaments for the pair of you to finally figure it out. You're just as thick as two wooden planks when it comes to all of this, or so it would seem. A little push might be needed.

"Colleagues don't send flowers just because," she tells you with an air of authority. "And if I know anything about the stories you've told me, Jungkook doesn't send flowers full stop."

Just like that, you're thinking of those damn tattoos again. The snake, specifically.

Maybe, just maybe, he is changing.

And if you weren't confused before, then you sure as hell are now.

During the summer months, Jungkook often goes home to see Bam at lunchtime. It's not uncommon for you to go with him. In the winter, when the temperature of his apartment is less of a worry, Jungkook probably only goes home for lunch once a week or so.

Walking up to Jungkook's apartment in the middle of the day without him feels a little bit wrong. In one hand, you're holding a peony by its stem. In the other, you're clutching your phone just in case he calls.

In all honesty, you had planned on taking the entire vase back, but it was bloody heavy. You'll wait until he's back in the office.

It might just be paranoia, or the misplaced assumption that everyone is obsessed with what Jungkook does, but you swear there have been far more people passing your office today than usual. People you've seen maybe once or twice in your entire lifetime.

Lea was right. Jungkook doesn't send flowers.

Has a repeat order going monthly for his mother, but that's it. And even then, he's kind of forgotten about it.

You've debated it with him before; flowers and their presence in relationships.

He thinks a potted plant would be far more practical, but if he was really going to get someone something, it'd be herbs. Maybe a potted mint bush. Something useful that they could enjoy together.

A few weeks ago, you had told him he'd make an awful sugar daddy.

"Well, yeah!" He'd just laughed. "I save my money for myself. Me alone. If someone wants nice shit, they can get their own job."

"Oh, so you'd never treat a girlfriend?" You'd scoffed, forgetting the fact he never really has girlfriends. Just flings. "Never get her nice shit?"

"Well, that's different," he'd said. "It's not transactional."

"Everything in life is transactional, whether people like to kid themselves it is or not."

Jungkook looked affronted when you said this. You'd had differing perceptions of life for as long as he'd known you, but you'd always been a romantic. Always believed in the prevailing nature of love.

Bam had adjusted in his sleepy position. Curled up a little tighter, then stretched right out. Rested his hind paws on your thighs and tucked his nose into his chest.

"Bam disagrees," Jungkook assured you.

"You trained him using transactions," you reminded him regardless. "Rewarded him with a treat every time he did as you asked. Transactional."

"Okay, but this?" He gestured to where Bam was curled between the pair of you on his sofa. That's always been a rule of his. No sofa for Bam—he's got all the beds he could ever want! But when Jungkook is on the sofa, it's the only place he wants to be, too. "He knows he's not supposed to be on here. He knows he won't get a reward, so why is he up here? It isn't transactional. He just—"

"Is playing you for a fool," you had laughed. "He wants to be on the sofa, so he lets us pet him in return for us not shooing him off. He's the one setting the transaction up. You're the one getting the reward. He's playing you at your own game. Aren't you, baby?"

You'd cooed a little, scratching at Bam's thigh. He shook it ever so gently and readjusted, but didn't stop resting against you.

It was a curious thought; the way that nothing in life ever comes for free. Even the favours you do for Jungkook by dog-sitting are transactional. You get just as much out of those days as he does.

The conversation had mellowed into something else, 'cause Jungkook didn't want to get into a debate. Knows that you can defend your point until the cows come home—has been in enough meetings with you to know as such. Likes being on your side 'cause you always win—and with a negotiator like him to seal the deal, it's always so much sweeter.

As the calling screen of Jungkook's contact details takes over your screen, phone resting against a wine bottle on the coffee table, you wonder how transactional this is.

He gave you flowers, and now you're giving him a call.

Anyone with a rational mind would surely ask: is this not how romance works?

But when he accepts your call, and you're met with a stern face that's desperately trying not to smile, you're reminded of what he really is: your best friend.

Neither of you wants to be the first one who cracks and gives in first, even if you both know this is all so stupid.

You reach over to pick up the peony. Hold it in front of your face. The petals have bloomed so spectacularly that it almost eclipses you.

Jungkook's face scrunches up a little, his terribly hidden smile slightly distorted but ever so hard to hide.

"Will you stop hating me now?" Is all he says.

"Never hated you," you grumble, bringing the flower a little lower, but still in frame. Sitting on the floor, your back is to the sofa and Bam is behind you, right where he's not supposed to be.

If Jungkook is bothered by it, he doesn't mention it. "I missed him this morning."

The guilt that crawls into your stomach and makes itself at home is rancid. Anguish is her name, and she loves nothing more than ruining a good thing.

The frown that steals the pretty smile from your face isn't one that Jungkook enjoys seeing on you, no matter how cute it is when your eyebrows pinch together.

"I should have called," you acknowledge, knowing that it was cruel of you not to, even if you were fighting. "I'm sorry."

Jungkook just smiles. "I assumed the stick was still up your arse."

Narrowing your eyes, you're pleased that he's joking with you; that things feel normal.

"It's fine," he dismisses regardless. "Last night was the opening event so I was a little worse for wear this morning, and then Jiwon was rummaging about at fuckin' six in the morning. Took her fuckin' hours to get ready."

And there it is; confirmation that she's been sharing his bed.

Though you don't frown, there's a stupor to the muscles in your face. The brightness you were looking at him with fades—and very quickly, Jungkook becomes the one who looks unhappy, now.

"What?" He says, genuinely a little confused.

It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter.

You just shake your head. Dismiss it. Flick the camera around and lift your phone to focus it on Bam as you give him a little scratch behind the ear.

"He's been good as gold," you begin to waffle on. The ridge between Jungkook's brows deepens. "Best boy in the doggie park, aren't you? There's a new couple who have just started walking a Yorkie. Yappy little bugger. I don't think Bam's a fan."

"No," Jungkook supposes. "He doesn't like yappy dogs—and I don't like it when you deflect. Show me your face, gremlin. What's going on?"

"Nothing!" You insist, but don't flick the camera back. Just get a little more boisterous with Bam, and while it does make Jungkook smile, he can't shake the horrible feeling that's building in his diaphragm.

Your Anguish has a cousin who goes by the name of Confusion, and she adores wrapping herself up in men who fail to communicate in a way that is healthy.

"C'mon," he softly says. Flicks his camera around. Shows you an empty hallway of the convention centre. Says, "I've left Jiwon in charge at the height of the day just so I can answer your call. Talk to me. What's wrong?"

"You didn't have to answer," you grumble.

Jungkook is smarter than most. Will have clocked the time of day and knew it was lunch. Definitely assumed you must be with Bam. It must be why he picked up.

Flicking the camera back on himself, Jungkook is almost at a loss for what else he can say to get you to open up.

A little honesty is needed.

And so you pout. Mumble, "They're calling you and Jiwon a dream team in the office."

Jungkook's frown intensifies as his dewy pink lips rest ajar. You'd say he looks distressed, but that's far too intense of an emotion for such a childish qualm.

He just knows that if he heard your partnership with another colleague—especially one in his department—being referred to like that, he'd take offence. It's you and him. You're the dream team. Always have been.

Shaking his head, Jungkook doesn't hide his contempt. Scoffs. "Fuck off. Dream team? She's using your strategies at a booth you designed, and even then, she's barely doing that—you know Acorn guy? The one you said to steer clear of? She's gunning for him—"

"Oh, you're kidding me," you gasp in disbelief. You warned her that he's bad news, multiple times. "Him?!"

"She's young," Jungkook says with a little judgement. Is scared of turning thirty, but definitely doesn't understand people who are closer to twenty. "He's just some hot guy on TV, to her. Doesn't realise his business is gonna tank. She isn't thinking about it long-term."

Which is funny, 'cause Jungkook never really used to think about things long term, either.

Sure, with investments and saving his money, he's always been a little cautious. When it comes to the business, though, it's someone else's money he's playing with. He takes risks. Does dumb shit and it gets rewards.

He really is incredibly good at his job, though. It's part of the reason the women love him, you always think.

It's not.

They like him because he's kind and also so bloody hot he should be on billboards, not in boardrooms.

You like him because he's competent.

In fact, you think there's nothing hotter than a competent man who just knows how to get shit done. And when said competent man can cook like Jungkook? Cares for his dog in the way he does? Looks like he does?

Sigh.

You ignore the way he looks a lot of the time, but you've a pair of eyes and a part of your brain that recognises attractive men. It's hard to ignore all of the time.

"Anyway," he shakes his head. "Not important. She's perfectly fine if not a little misguided—but she isn't you. So, stop worrying about it."

You take a second before you reply. Flick the camera back to you.

It surprises Jungkook, how Confusion has travelled through his bloodstream. Her bony fingers toy with his heart, and he's taken aback by just how sharp her nails are.

Looking at you never used to feel like this. He's not sure why it does now.

You muster up a little courage, even if you can't bring yourself to look at him properly. Let out a deep sigh. Now or never. You run the risk of causing another fight, but if you don't come clean, it'll only dirty everything.

"I just thought we kind of had an agreement, Kook," you eventually whine with an ever-so childish pout.

The hands that have been tearing at his heart migrate through his bloodstream. Get into his brain. Get into his house. Opens doors. Begins moving the furniture.

Stay out of the annexe, his thoughts hiss at Confusion.

Still he seems perfectly calm when he asks, "Watcha mean?"

He's not making this easy for you.

In fact, you'd say he's making it difficult. It would be far easier for you if he just acknowledged what he's already done.

"Well, just..." you take a moment or so to think about how it can be phrased with any dignity—and then you think fuck it. "She's in my department, Kook. I always thought you wouldn't fuck anyone I have to directly work with. It just makes it awkwa—"

"Woah, woah woah," he interrupts. Confusion sits on his shoulder, now, with a twisted smirk on her greyed-out face. "Wouldn't fuck anyone? What the hell do you think I've been doing?!"

"Well, I mean, it's less what and more... who," you joke a little too flippantly.

You don't think he's ever looked so offended in the entire time you've known him.

"You've got to be kidding me."

If anything, you're a bit surprised by just how offended he is. Jiwon is an incredibly pretty girl. A little young for him, granted, but not abhorrently so.

"What?!" You reply, equally confused, then relay everything back to him. "She woke you up this morning getting ready? Was in your room when I called you? Fucking got on your bed right in front of my face and cosied up with you to look at Bam."

Admittedly, that last one was said with a little venom. It annoys you the most.

"She woke me up this morning from across the room," he counters. "Was in our room because we were a last-minute addition to the convention, and it was the only room left within a ten-mile radius—twin beds, may I add! If I don't even share my bed with you when I'm at home, then what the hell makes you think I'd share one with her?! Yeah, the call thing was weird. I'm not gonna lie, it was, but I answered when she was around because I didn't want either of you to get the wrong impression."

A smile wobbles on your lips, as you try to remain stoic. Either of you. You know that you apparently got the wrong end of the stick—but you're not entirely sure what he means by either of you. You wonder what impression he's trying to give her, then decide it's not important.

You clasp your hands together. Lean forward. Put on your best noble old man voice, and say, "Well, it appears that it might have just happened, regardless."

Confusion's perch on Jungkook's shoulder is knocked loose when he laughs, though those sharp nails do claw onto his back. Leave scratch marks that will take a little while to heal—what's important is that they will.

One day, this awkward misstep will be something you laugh about. Kind of like he is, now. You'll forget your tears, but you won't ever forget the strange feeling of weight lifting off your shoulders, mind eased by Jungkook.

"You're a fucking idiot," he laughs with such fondness it almost doesn't feel like an insult. "Seriously? You thought I fucked her? And was then, what? Trying to brag about it? C'mon, you little gremlin! Give me some credit."

Never before has 'gremlin' ever sounded so kind. So warm. So much like 'darling', or 'mon amour'. Secret code for unspoken words.

"I don't know," you whine. Bam shuffles a little bit on the sofa behind you, turning his face away from the noise. You reach back to scratch his head as an apology. Jungkook smiles. Your care for his baby is so innate that you don't even realise you're doing it. "Her hair was damp, and she was practically falling out of her top—"

"Oh, but what I am supposed to do?" He laughs. "I can't tell her to cover up in her own damn room, and even then I just ignore it. I didn't sleep with her. I'm not going to sleep with her. Okay?"

He's not even thought about it. Feels nothing when he looks at her. No excitement. Even if she is attractive, he doesn't think his body would work properly.

Hasn't been working as it should do for the best part of a year now.

Or maybe it would better be referred to as 'malfunctioning'.

'Cause it seems to work okay when he thinks about you.

He 'malfunctioned' earlier on that day, as a matter of fact. Was just showering. And he missed you. And was thinking about those damn pyjama shorts. How smooth your legs had been when he'd hoisted you over his shoulder. How pliant you'd been as he chucked you down into his sheets. Your sleepy eyes and the 3AM husk to your voice. Fuck.

Even thinking about it in a dingy hallway of a convention centre, with your pretty face smiling at him through his phone, is making his heart race. If he doesn't get a hold on it, he'll go into cardiac. Might just flatline.

"Look, I gotta get back, okay?" He softly says. It's not a lie, but it is more sensible than he wants to be. "Have to make sure Jiwon hasn't sold the company to the acorn guy. There's a networking event tonight, so I can't call during Bammie's walk, but I'll check in at some point."

"Alright," you nod, a little sad to see him go, but understanding of it. "Hurry up and come home. Bam misses you."

"I miss him, too," Jungkook pouts. "Show me my baby before I go."

Phone angled to fully capture Bam, you indulge Jungkook for a few moments before he really does have to go. He lingers for a second or so after you say goodbye. Can't muster up anything good to say to make you stay.

Holding the stem of the single peony you'd taken home with you, you roll it between your thumb and fingers. Watch the petals twirl.

"What should I do, hey, Bam?" You wistfully sigh, eventually getting up to pop it in a glass of water. Jungkook has no vases, for he's never had any need for flowers.

The peony isn't the only thing blooming in his kitchen these days, though. It hasn't been for a while.

Work passes slowly that afternoon. You want to get home. See Bam. Finish off the wine you opened so that Jungkook doesn't scold you for letting it turn into vinegar when he gets back. And then you wanna sleep—just so you can wake up the next morning and take Bam on his walk.

It's not like that isn't part of your agenda tonight, too. It's just that Jungkook won't be around for that one.

Instead, his evening is spent in fancy rooms with men in even fancier suits and women who take a fancy to him, too. A whisky is in his hands at all times, his pretty lips embroiled in conversation. He talks so much he barely has any time to drink.

People gravitate towards him; those who feel threatened by his charm gravitate towards Jiwon. Mistake her for a prize he's trying to keep. Don't realise his unbothered facade is anything but a facade.

It's gone midnight by the time he's kicking off his shoes with a little wobble as he gets to his hotel room.

"I'm being serious," he almost giggles, phone between his shoulder and his ear as he loosens his cufflinks. "It's a wig. I'm positive."

280 miles away, phone on your tummy, loudspeaker on as you gaze up at Jungkook's bedroom ceiling, you're laughing too.

"It can't be," you protest the current topic of conversation—Mr Acorn (as he's now affectionately known between you both) and whether or not his hair is real. Jungkook had left Jiwon to continue her poorly judged perusal of him, in favour of checking in with you instead. There was no one else at that party he wanted to talk to more than he wanted to talk to you. Laughing and joking about stupid shit, he's glad you answered. "He went swimming on Singles Inferno!"

"So?!" Jungkook snorts, tapping his phone over to loudspeaker too and tossing it down onto his sheets. A little haphazard, he's unbuttoning his shirt. Is a little tipsy, but not enough to warrant any huge issues. "Maybe he used industrial strength glue."

"Surely he'd rather people just know he was bald? Start a trend?"

"Maybe he's got a terrible head tattoo," Jungkook theorises, tossing his shirt across to a chair, before finally discarding his pants, too. Is just in his boxers now as he clambers into the sheets. "Bald eagle. An ex's name. I dunno. But I'd take chemical burns over that."

"You'd never get a girl's name tattooed on you," you laugh in response. Legs tucked up, heels to your ass, you let your knees gently sway. Bam is curled up in his own bed by the foot of Jungkook's. You're not on facetime, mainly 'cause Jungkook clicked the wrong button, but it's also nice not using poor Bam as an excuse to talk to you.

"And I'm also not balding, so we don't have to worry about that."

"Are you not?" You hum, just to wind him up. "I swear there's a patch of missing hair—"

"Shut up," he cuts you off, voice just as fond as it is stern. "I will swim all the way back to the mainland and speed run up to Seoul just to shut you up. Don't speak it into existence. I have great hair."

"Mmm," you hum. Sinking a little further into his sheet, you turn on your side. Take him off speaker. Hold your phone to your ear. Look at the empty side of his bed and wonder what it'd be like if he were here. Know better than to indulge it. "And you are just so modest, too. Absolutely no ego whatsoever."

"It's why the ladies love me," he jokes, not realising just how true it is. Jungkook takes a moment before he says anything else. Is comforted by the silence you leave for him, totally unaware it's because you're not sure how to respond. "Not that it matters."

Though his delivery is soft and airy, like feathers falling from a well established nest, it lands in your chest with a heavy thud, like a stone from a bridge. You couldn't swerve in time. It shattered your windshield; plummeted straight into your heart. 'Causes a pile up on the freeway, all your thoughts held behind a tongue that cannot speak.

"You tired?" Jungkook hums down the speaker when a response never comes. "I'm sorry, I can let you go?"

"No," you say incredibly quickly considering you've been leaving your side of the conversation empty. "No, sorry. Just can't believe you're actually behaving yourself. Who are you, and what have you done with Cassanova that normally takes a hold of you after a few drinks?"

He's right here, Jungkook laments, knowing better than to act on the way he's been feeling lately. Just says, "Maybe I'm maturing."

"I find that hard to believe," you tell him. If the tiktok psychology gurus who have taught you everything you know about modern men are anything to go by, his brain should have finished fully developing about a year ago.

And while Jungkook would tell you to get fucked and that his brain was already fully developed, he knows that if he sat down and really thought about it, maybe it'd hold some merit. Afterall, it's been about a year since those first thoughts about you started creeping into his mind house.

It's only recently that he's been flirting with that damn annexe door, but he's been aware of someone in there for a while, now.

"What?" He smiles down the phone, resting an arm on his bare abdomen, looking up at the dark ceiling of his hotel room. "Maybe I am. Maybe shagging random girls doesn't excite me anymore."

"You're lying."

"Am I?"

"Yes," you insist, but there's a smile on your face.

There's something about his denial you enjoy.

It's why you're arguing against him. You wanna hear him deny it again. Tell you he doesn't care about other girls. You don't necessarily want him to care about you beyond what he already does. Or at least that's what you tell yourself.

"No," he simply replies back. "I'm not."

"So if Jiwon—"

"Why are you bringing her up again?" He's smirking, now. You can hear it in his tone. "Are you jealous?"

"Jealous?!"

"Yeah," He insists, just like you had been earlier. "You don't like the idea of her sleeping with me."

Incorrect. You don't like the idea of him sleeping with her.

"Well, no," you admit. "But because I work with her—"

"That's not it," he fights against you. Knows that you didn't go and see Mingyu when you said you would, and also now knows you said you would after you thought he'd slept with Jiwon. He might not be able to read women's minds, but he's learnt your M.O. pretty well over the years.

"You're drunk," you whisper, trying to hide behind the alcohol that both of you have in your systems. Neither of you are in any position to make sensible choices.

"Tipsy," he corrects. "And so are you. Go on. Be honest. Tell me."

"There's nothing to tell."

"Yeah, there is," he whispers, his words far braver in sentiment than they are in sound.

You swallow. Can't work out if he's just teasing you or not. "There's nothing."

The silence in the room around you is deafening. It's like all you can focus on is Jungkook, and the way you imagine his lips pouting together at the end of each sentence he speaks. Pretty and pink and—

"So you've never thought about it?" He interrupts your thoughts with a question you're unprepared for.

"What?" You reply a little dismissively, as if it's an outlandish think to consider.

But Jungkook doesn't buy it.

Has been driving himself insane.

Knows he can't be the only one—and if he is, then maybe he really is insane.

"Us," he replies as if it's water off a duck's back. Simple. Easy. "You've never wondered what it would be like?"

"Kook..."

It's like playing chicken. Both too scared to cross a line for fear of it changing the entire fabric of your lives.

But you can acknowledge something without acting on it. Confirmation means nothing; it's the choices that follow which really mean something,

"Yeah?" He husks. His sleepy eyes are pressed shut, his voice a slow drawl. "What is it, huh? You want me to admit it first?"

You almost laugh at how dumb this whole conversation is. You're friends. Have been for years. Colleagues. Just... Well, just you and Jungkook. He's never thought about you like that. You're certain of it.

Yet still, you ask, "Well, have you?"

He doesn't reply immediately. You half think he's drifted off to sleep, proof that he'd had too much to drink to be having a conversation like this.

But then you hear his breathy little laugh through the speaker. You know he must be nibbling down on his bottom lip as he smirks. The sound is so familiar you can picture it. You wish he was here. Want to see it. Feel it.

Fuck, you curse yourself out. This is not good.

And Jungkook's only gonna make it a whole lot worse.

"Yeah," he quietly admits, keys in one hand and padlock in the other as he stares at the annexe door in his mind. Wide open, there's no going back now. Only forward. "I think about it all the time."

Bam nuzzles the side of his head against your tummy as he adjusts into a slightly more comfortable position on Jungkook's bed. The sheets are a mess from all your tossing and turning, your body plonked right in the middle of his mattress. There's no his side or your side anymore. You've made it yours, and Bam has joined in.

He shouldn't be on the bed. You know this, he knows this. You're both disobeying Jungkook. Are in this perfectly innocent sin together, and will face the wrath of Jungkook as a unit.

There's never really much wrath that comes from Jungkook. He's the type to smirk and laugh in the face of the people who've wronged him. Believes in karma. Fate. He draws the lines at horoscopes, though. Thinks they're bollocks. Smiles, still, when you blame shitty things on Mercury.

The only time you've ever seen him angry—nostrils flaring, jaw tense, agitated beyond compare—was when some guy wouldn't stop hitting on you in a bar. You'd told him no a dozen times over and he just wouldn't listen.

It still pisses you off that he listened to Jungkook without hesitation, but you also know it looked like Jungkook was gonna break his nose. You're far less intimidating when you're annoyed. Jungkook laughs at you whenever you get frustrated. Says you're cute—or at least as cute as a Gremlin can be.

You've got a similar look on your face now, all perplexed and bereft. If he were here, he'd be teasing you, trying to make you crack a smile.

Annoyingly, you know he'd be able to.

You're staring up at his ceiling, early morning light seeping in through the gaps in the curtains. The world you wish to ignore today rudely intrudes on you regardless.

It's his karma, you think.

You disobey Jungkook, the world disobeys you.

With one hand resting on Bam, the other is tightly clutching your phone. For the past five minutes, you've been locking and unlocking it like a wind-up toy drummer.

To call, or not to call, or whatever Shakespeare said.

The faint hum of a wine-induced hangover buzzes between your ears, but it isn't so bad. Probably because you didn't really have that much to drink.

If anyone asks, you'll say you had a bottle.

And by anyone, you mean Jungkook.

If Jungkook asks, you'll laugh— We had a call? Are you sure? —and he'll laugh too— Yeah, we were both pretty drunk —and you'll both pretend like he didn't say the words that he did.

Pulling the pillow he usually sleeps on across to your face, you press it down. Scream into the padding. It's not loud enough to alarm Bam, but it is enough to make him cock his head.

It wouldn't have been so bad if it had only been Jungkook's lips that were loose last night.

The issue is that yours were, too.

You wish you didn't remember all the words you'd said. The way you'd told him to shut up.

The way he'd hummed, "Oh, come on. You know you think about it, too."

The way you'd said, "I do no such thing."

He had laughed. Said you were a liar.

You'd protested. Said it didn't matter anyways, 'cause you both know it'd never work.

"So you have thought about it," he'd teased.

"Briefly."

"How briefly?"

"Like a matter of minutes—"

"Okay, rude," he'd pouted through the receiver. "I last way longer than a couple of minutes."

"You're disgusting," you'd laughed at the way he'd made it all about sex.

For all he knew, you could have been talking about a relationship—but you're right. You both know it'd never work, so of course this is about sex.

"You the one who's thought about it, though," he'd flirted through the phone. Biting down on his bottom lip, the darkness of his hotel room had slipped him into a fatal state of hedonism.

There was a beat of his heart. One. Two. Still no response from you.

He knew you were thinking about it. Thinking about him. Decided to push his luck. Had almost whispered, his fingertips trailing down his torso, as he chanced, "Do you ever think about me when you touch yourself?"

Silence continued to linger for longer than it should have, until you finally just whispered, "Kook."

"Yeah?" He'd smirked.

"You can't ask things like that."

But he can, and he did, and your lack of an answer was an answer in and of itself.

He wasn't even really after the truth. He just wanted to get under your skin; burrow himself down into the deepest, darkest, most depraved corner of your brain. Revenge, he thinks, for that damn annexe you've assigned squatters rights to.

You set up home in him? Fine . He'll do it right back.

"So this is what I am, huh?" You'd replied, with a little faux chip on your shoulder, trying to deflect from yourself. "Just another office girl for you to fantasize about?"

There's always been a challenge to you that Jungkook has liked. You're sparring partners. Will bicker and argue and end up laughing over it all. It makes for excellent brainstorming meetings, 'cause you're always trying to win. You bring out the best in each other, even if it is in a bid to do the opposite.

Jungkook had sighed. Weighed up his options. Rested his hands over his boxers, only to find himself far too entertained by the conversation. It wasn't a surprise, nor was it unwelcome.

The frequency of his thoughts about you had been doubling, tripling, quadrupling ever since Chuseok.

His bed has become a pit of sin in recent weeks; nobody but him in the shrouded decay of a mind-house he's been neglecting in favour of the annexe shared with you.

He already knows just how bad it's gonna be for him when he returns home, and the pillows are dented by your crown, the lingering scent of your perfume wrapping around him just like he knows his hand will be around his cock. Tight. Strong. Firm. It's your name he'll whine, just like it was when he was in the shower earlier that morning.

God, it's gotten so bad.

He needs to stop before he ruins everything.

It's not like sex is an uncommon topic of conversation between you both. Casual vulgarity had been a tool used to bond with; a taboo way to tease one another. It's always been casual. Uncalculated.

It's different, now.

In the darkness of midnight, the stakes were raised almost as high as your heart rate.

"You think so poorly of me," he'd whined, a teasing smile on his lips. It wasn't rare to hear Jungkook address you so playfully. In fact, it was a common occurrence—yet it felt strange, this time. "You know you're not just another office girl."

"Do I?"

"You should."

"I don't," you'd shrugged into his sheets. "Tell me, how am I different?"

The distance between you made a flirt like this safe. Immediate consequences were null and void, and the alcohol in your system didn't seem to care for it either.

"I can't tell you."

"Sure you can."

"You don't wanna hear it," he'd promised.

"Try me," you'd challenged.

And then Jungkook admitted something he knew far better than to confess, but couldn't seem to help himself. He just wanted you to know that you were special. That you were different.

That you are different. Are special.

"None of the office girls have ever made me cum in my own bed."

It came out far less sweet than his brain had told him it would, but it was still a compliment, he thought.

"Jungkook!"

"What?!"

The way you both kind of shrieked at each other only amplified the shock of the confession, but also did well to hide the way it excited you, too. Got you hot beneath his sheets. Aroused.

"Don't say things like that," you'd scolded him with a laugh, playing it off as a joke. "I'll report you to HR."

"You'd do no such thing," he'd smirked down the line. Matched your energy. Played it off as an incredibly obscene, vulgar joke. Will turn his nose up if you ever ask him if he was telling the truth. "And anyways, the HR girls love me. You'd be fighting a losing battle."

"You're awful," you'd told him with such a tenderness that suggested you really didn't think that at all.

And so he smiled. Decided to cut his losses. Agreed. "Yeah. That's me."

The conversation dissolved into casual chatter until you both made excuses about being tired, or needing to sleep off the alcohol.

Yet both of you would spend the next hour awake, staring at your respective ceilings. Occasionally, you'd look to the space reserved for him in his bed. He'd do just the same. Would look at Jiwon's empty bed and lament the fact that it wasn't you on the trip with him.

He never should have asked you to watch over Bam—but there really isn't anyone else he'd rather have in his apartment.

Then he's thinking about you all over again, in his home, hair claw-clipped like it so often is, and how cute those little pyjama shorts of yours would look peeking out from the hemline of one of his shirts. He wonders what you're wearing; if it's your bare skin against his sheets. Wonders if he sleeps naked after he gets home, if it'd feel like your arms are wrapped around him; if the scent of your perfume would sink into his skin.

It doesn't take long for the thoughts to become lewd. He thinks of your lips, and how they'd part with a gasp if he were to stroke your skin with his fingertips. Thinks of your waist, and what it would feel like to hold. Thinks of your body in a way that really ought to get him fired.

How his lips could drag across your skin; the wet pink of his tongue learning where you liked to be touched. How he'd guide your hands. The words of approval he'd use— Yeah, like that. Oh, fuck. Yeah, just like that, baby. You're so good at that aren't you, huh? You know how many times I've imagined this? You're so much better. G'na make me cum, babe. Keep going. You want my cum, yeah? Yeah, you do. Oh, fuck—

"No," he sharply scolds himself, tearing his thoughts from you and his hand from his thick, impatient cock. "Fucks sake, man. Get a grip."

Wanting you like this is selfish, he thinks. Selfish and stupid and— God —so fuckin' dumb.

He also thinks it's your fault. You're an interior designer, after all. Have made that stupid annexe feel more like a home than the rest of his head ever has. Added candles and cushions. Hung pictures on the wall; turned off the main light in favour of warm lamps that just make him wanna curl up and fall asleep with you on the sofa.

It's so different, this little annexe in his brain, to the apartment that he actually lives in.

If he were to assess it thoroughly, he'd realise that the annexe looks just like your apartment.

But he hates your place. Has never been shy about telling you so. Hates all your nicknacks. Hates the clothing rails you use instead of a proper wardrobe, and the way your beside table is actually just a stack of books you're yet to read. Hates how there's always a cosy blanket within touching distance, and how it always smells like black cherry candles. Hates how firm your mattress is, even if he's only ever slept on it once, fully clothed after you'd both had way too much to drink after a tight work deadline.

He also hated how he didn't wake up with an aching back like he usually does. Hated how sleeping in his own damn bed began to feel wrong, and how nowadays it only feels right during those first few days after he returns from trips; when it still smells like you and the rings you take off your fingers in the night are still tucked beneath his pillows.

Kind of like they are now, as you finally decide to stop being a miserable cow and just get up. You're normally the one who calls him, and it's typically always when you're walking Bam. Last night had been an anomaly. There's no reason for him to call you, now.

It's when you're showering that your phone lights up. Only briefly. Messages, not calls.

JK: can't call this morning, gotta head to the exhibition hall early

JK: give my baby a head scratch from me

JK: send me pics!!

JK: of bam

JK: none of you

While the vomit emoji he adds onto the end of the final message is a little uncalled for, it's actually kind of a relief that he doesn't want to call. Having to face him right now, when you're in such a sorry state of confusion, would have only made the situation far worse for you.

At least that's what you tell yourself.

Your face when you walk into the office, and the state of despair Lea seems to find you in, would suggest otherwise.

By half past ten, you've managed to wrangle Jungkook into conversation eight times.

It's not until you mention him in relation to Jiwon that Lea seems to notice.

"Okay, so?" She laughs. "Everyone knows you and Jungkook are like a package deal. She isn't taking your spot—plus, you're her senior . If she tried to undercut you, do you think anyone would want to work with her?"

It's a good point, but you don't really care to listen to reason right now.

"But it's not undercutting," you pout. "You saw everyone in the group chat. Dream team. "

The way your voice heightens in pitch and nose turns up as you utter the phrase is nothing short of hilarious, and Lea makes sure to let you know.

"You're being a big old baby about this," she laughs again. "Jungkook's gonna come back, relay all of the deals he's set up, and then he's gonna whisk you up to his office to spend the next two weeks drawing up plans. I doubt I'll even see you!"

Admittedly, in the busy periods, you'll work at his desk. In the big chair. The special one he got after his first bonus. The one on his side of the desk. He'll work on the opposite side—the client side—with his laptop.

It's caused a fair amount of confusion before, whenever people have come to his office. Your nonchalance about it all makes it seem totally normal. Most people don't question it anymore—and if they do, you just say the programme you have to use runs better on his computer than it does on a laptop.

Which isn't a lie.

But you could always just work at your own desk.

The issues is that Jungkook likes to keep you close when he's working. Makes it easier for the random questions he blurts out that you're always ready to answer. Annoys him to no end when you're not there and he has to go off and find you.

By the time he finds you, the question is always half gone or you start blathering on about something completely irrelevant and he forgets it anyway. It makes him antsy not having you close.

Neither of you seem to realise it's not normal.

"Look," Lea sighs, minimising her tab so that she can give you her full attention. "You're the one who suggested Jiwon should go. It's just work! You're acting like a jealous girlfriend—"

"No, I'm not!" You gasp. "Don't be absurd!"

"Well, whose apartment did you wake up in?"

"That's hardly—"

"Whose?"

"I mean— Well— His, but —"

"Who was the first person you spoke to this morning?"

"Okay, that's not fair. I'm looking after his—"

"Who was the last person you spoke to last night?"

You pause. Narrow your eyes.

Lea just smiles.

"At least tell me you're in the spare room and not his bed," she jokes—but when she notices the look on your face, her smile drops. "Oh, you're kidding me! You know what you're like when it comes to domestication ! You're bloody nesting , aren't you?!"

"Oh c'mon," you scoff. "I'm not an animal!"

"Uh, yeah," she says, dumbfounded. "You are. That's the issue with humans. Too many bloody primal desires—"

"I do not have a primal desire for Jungkook!"

"Look me in the eyes and tell me you've never thought about it."

"I haven't!" You assert, eyes locked on hers. It's almost believable. Or at least it is until your lips begin to twitch. The look of shock on her face is borderline offensive. "Oh my God, shut up!"

Lea's face scrunches up in revulsion. Shoulders to her ears, she whispers, "He's a whore !"

"Okay, that's not nice."

"But it's true!"

Sighing, you slump into your chair. Push your pout up to your nose, and then sigh even deeper than before.

Looking across at Lea with such perplexity anyone would think she's just asked you to design interiors for a rocket ship, you decide you absolutely cannot let this confusion get the better of you.

"It's fine," you assure her. "He's coming home tomorrow evening. Once I'm out of his house, I'll be way more rationable about things."

"You sure?"

No.

"I'm sure."

As Jungkook places his rucksack down beside a bar stool in an airport lounge, he can't help but feel like he's doing something wrong.

It's dark outside, and the dim lights of the bar give way to a seedy intimacy that he's always loved about places like this—how fleeting they are. The casual embrace of a stranger's stare can linger for hours afterwards, consuming his thoughts for an entire flight.

Yet the only people he's even looked in the eyes of tonight have been the airport staff checking him through. Even as he asks for a whisky, he barely registers the woman behind the bar.

Placing his phone down, he also discards the lanyard that's been around his neck. He forgot to take it off before heading to their airport, and just popped it back on after going through the scanners.

It's not like he needs it now. The conference centre is miles away.

He's still in his business suit. Left quickly. Just confirmed with Jiwon that she didn't mind him catching an earlier flight and in all honesty, it suited her better. Jungkook had been so annoying about Acorn guy the entire time. Kept telling her it was a waste of energy, and no business would come from her pursuit of him. She wanted the chance to prove him wrong; to achieve something by herself.

"Are you Leaving early, too?" An American accent drawls from beside him, immediately grabbing Jungkook's attention.

A burly man with greying hair takes a perch on the stool beside Jungkook. Nodding towards the lanyard, he holds up his own. Mitch Ellis his tag reads, and instantly Jungkook is reminded of the folder you had handed to him before his departure.

"Did a little research on an American company that's gonna be at the Expo. Their head marketer has shares in a bunch of baseball-related companies. Get pally with him."

The opportunity hadn't arisen. Jungkook barely even had time to breathe, let alone seek out some elusive American businessman—yet here he is, in the flesh, approaching Jungkook.

Sucking a little air between his teeth, Jungkook nods. Laughs. Says, "Got a family to get back to."

What. The. Fuck.

He doesn't know why on earth he said that, he just knows he can't take it back. A family. For Christ's sake! It's not just the abandoned house in his brain that's rotting—it's the whole damn thing. Stupid .

Pursing his lips in approval, Mitch nods. Lends an expression that Jungkook can only assume means he respects the answer.

"Family man," he says. "Don't see many of them in the industry these days."

Jungkook shrugs. Continues on with his bullshit. "I love my job, but home's where the heart is." Or at least, it's where his dog is. Of course, he loves Bam more than he cares to articulate—but a man and his dog surely don't constitute to a 'family'. "You off early, too?"

"Wife and kids tagged along for the trip," he nods, then quickly asks the barmaid for a whisky, too. "Promised I'd take them to Lotte World tomorrow."

Jungkook grimaces. "Ooft, on a Saturday?"

"The crowds that bad, huh?"

Gritting his teeth, Jungkook tips his head from side to side, then says, "Get magic passes for the family. It's worth the extra price. Trust me."

He'd never dream of going to Lotte World on a Saturday.

In fact, he doesn't dream of it full stop. Grew up going to the Busan franchise, and would opt for it any day of the week. Everland would be his second choice if couldn't be bothered for the drive. But never the Jamsil Lotte World. It's always rammed .

"I swear, kids—" Mitch shakes his head "—All they do is bleed you dry."

Jungkook smiles. "I'm yet to reach that stage, but I can imagine."

Mitch looks appropriately confused. Did Jungkook not just make up a bullshit imaginary family? Surely he hasn't faltered already?

Jungkook clarifies, "Going home to my girl and my dog. No kids—or at least if I've acquired one over the last couple of days, it'll be a surprise."

He doesn't know why he said that.

My girl.

Oh, God. He's going insane. He must be. This is ridiculous.

Those stupid dreams of his had already started migrating into daydreams. Now, they're being spoken into reality. This is terrible. Really, truly, awful.

Mitch has an easy ten, maybe twenty years on Jungkook.

His hair is greying, and there are lines embedded into his skin that tell stories of the life he's lived.

While it's his career Jungkook would typically be envious of, he finds himself jealous of Mitch's personal life. Wife. Kids. God, he hates the conformity of it all, but there's an ache in his chest when he thinks about all that he doesn't have.

And it only worsens when he thinks of you and Bam.

"Ah, young love," Mitch nods, again seemingly in approval of Jungkook and his 'choices'—which is bizarre, because Jungkook wants to punch himself in the face. "Make the most of it. You'll be longing for the good old days once the kids come."

It's too late for Jungkook to correct himself. Too late to admit to the truth. To say 'lol, jk, im single, just fancy the pants off my coworker.'

The thought of it all makes him want to hurl. Fancy.

He's never admitted his crush before, not even to himself. Oh, this is all so awful.

And so Jungkook panics. Says, "Hopefully we've got a couple years before then. We're both at the same company, so we're trying to figure it all out before doing anything we can't take back."

What is wrong with you?!

"Oh?" Mitch chirps, encouraging Jungkook to continue.

"Were interns at the same time," Jungkook begins to overexplain, as if it makes it any better. He's speaking a crush into existence that he isn't even sure exists, and declaring it as love of some sorts? Oh, this is really barbaric. He might throw up. Maybe if he pretends to faint, he can get out of this situation. He thinks it would be less mortifying. Yet, still, he continues! "Have gone up through the ranks together, but are different departments."

Why is he still talking about you?!

Oh God, his head is gonna explode. It's like you're building an extension on the annexe. He never gave you planning permission, and yet there you are, concrete trowel in one hand, a brick in the other. You're so pretty, he thinks.

Get a grip!

"HR nightmare," Mitch laughs, then leans a little closer. "Truth be told, it's how me and the missus met—I worked for her Daddy's company. Thought I'd be fired on the spot when we told him."

"But I'm guessing...?"

Mitch nods. "I'm now their longest-serving employee and am set to take over in the next five years," he laughs. Thankfully, it all worked out. Hopefully, the same'll be said for you and your missus."

Jungkook's lips curve into a tight-lipped smile. Decides he has to change topic, or otherwise he might just self-implode. "Yeah. Fingers crossed—anyway, I don't think we had a chance to speak at the conference, did we? What's your company?"

As if Jungkook has earned a gold seal of approval, Mitch nods his head over towards a couple of chairs that overlook the runways. Picks up his whisky. Begins to walk away. Says, "I was about to ask you the exact same thing. What did you say your name was again? Let's talk."

"Jeon Jungkook," he grins, picking up his whisky, finally forcing you out of his brain. "Yeah. Let's chat."

"Bammie," you whine into Jungkook's pillows when the sound of his paws excitedly clattering across the floorboards wakes you. You can't have been asleep for very long. A couple hours, tops. "It's not time for walkies yet."

Burrowing yourself deeper into Jungkook's sheets, you try and drown out the noise–but it's fruitless. Not only is Bam too cute to ignore, you worry that there's something wrong.

Sitting up, eyes all beary, the dark nothingness around you clues you in on the fact it's definitely the middle of the night. Pushing the duvet off your body, you swing your legs over the side of the bed as your phone begins to vibrate. Jungkook's face takes over your screen, and a frown takes over yours.

Part of you wants to ignore it. Wonder if maybe you've already slept through it ringing out, and that's what woke Bam up.

At this time of the evening, Jungkook should be at the afterparty. It's unofficial, and not endorsed by the convention, which only means one thing: people are getting legless.

He'd sent you a message earlier on in the day saying that Jiwon was still trying her absolute hardest to bag the Acorn man, after an unsuccessful attempt the night before. You wonder if he's wing-manning her.

Bitterly, you wonder if she's cut her losses. Turned her attention to Jungkook, instead.

He's probably shitfaced by now.

Part of you worries he'll want to continue the conversation from the night before. You're too sober to even consider flirting.

Sliding across to answer, you hold the phone to your ear and you begin to walk in the direction of wherever Bam may be.

"Yeah?" You croak down the phone, rubbing your eyes with the back of your hand.

"You sound chirpy," he teases.

Bizarrely, you think he sounds sober. "Fuck off."

"Charming. Undo the bolt on the door," Jungkook demands down the line, but there's almost an echo, as if he's just in the other room or something like that.

Your feet softly pad into the living room, the darkness not much of a hindrance. You know his apartment like the back of your hand; the veins, the freckles, the grooves dappled in your skin below your knuckles. All it takes is a couple of steps for you to reach the light switch, and absolutely zero thought for you to flick it on.

"Hm?" You mumble a confused sound as light bursts into the room. Your eyes squeeze together, a groan catching in your throat. Blinking once, twice, you adjust quickly. Spot Bam by the entryway, looking up at the door expectantly. One of his paws taps at the steel, a soft whine trembling on his lips. Turning your attention back to Jungkook, you say, "What?"

"'I'm home, gremlin," Jungkook softly smiles down the phone. "Let me in."

"But it-" You begin to protest, knowing that his flight isn't until tomorrow.

Jungkook doesn't care to explain himself. Is just as tired as you sound.

"Let me in."

You don't need to be told twice.

He's home.

It shouldn't make you feel the way that it does, all warm and content.

But it does, and for a moment, you let yourself indulge in the sensation of welcoming Jungkook right back to where he belongs.

Hanging up, you place your phone on the kitchen counter, reaching out to scratch Bam's head when you get to the door.

"Is it daddy, huh?" You ask him as he continues to paw at the door. There's a small metallic click as you unthread the bolt, which is quickly replaced by a robotic beep as you press the easy-release button for the latch.

Before you can even properly open the door, the handle is being pressed down from the outside. The sound of Jungkook's hushed voice echoes into the hallway instantly as he coos over Bam just to wind him up a little before he can see him.

"Who is it, Bammie?" He asks through the door, and you already know exactly what he looks like—smile so large it takes over his entire face.

You help to push the door open, and find that there's sunshine in the middle of the night in Jungkook's hallway.

"You're home," you sleepily smile as you watch Jungkook crouch, arms wide and all-encompassing as he greets Bam in the most boisterous of ways. He's not making any sense. Isn't saying any words. Just lets noises rumble from his throat, of which Bam somehow seems to understand.

In a way, you understand it too. The mental translation is a bit patchy, but you know it's something along the lines of, I've missed you so much Bammie, Daddy's home now, let's never spend time apart ever again.

Glancing up to you, that daylight smile hanging off his lips, Jungkook's got a glisten in his tired eyes.

Maybe you haven't adjusted to the light as well as you think you have, but there's something different about Jungkook. Something that's making your weary heart work overtime. It's all a bit strange. All a bit lovely. All a bit terrifying.

"Yeah," he tenderly agrees, hands scratching behind Bam's floppy ears as his eyes fondly meet yours. How could he ever stay away? "Home."

part three to be uploaded tomorrow <3

#byholly #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook ff #jk ff #jungkook x reader #jungkook imagine #bangtan fic #officeworker!jungkook #fuckboy!jungkook #f2l #jungkook fluff

342 notes · View notes

indulgentdaydream · 7 months

Note

Hello luv, first of all... I LOVE NURSE!READER!!! OH god the last lines were soooooo heartwarming for my social worker heart!! LOVE LOVE IT 🩷🩷

So, may I request a Jason x reader again but with a little something... Jealous Jason because reader and Roy know each other longer than Jay and reader and then he gets all jelly and and—! Oh god I love a jealous petty man.

Missy when she fucks up the queue and queues this post for NEXT YEAR by accident 🫣🙃 NEXT YEAR?? LIKE THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE POSTED LAST FRIDAY AND I DIDN'T EVEN NOTICE THAT IT DIDN'T GO UP

anyways AHHH THANK YOU SO MUCH your words are already heartwarming ♥️

I loveeee jealous jason imma cook this up so quick just you wait and see (i wrote this when i first made the draft and i found it funny to leave it. It’s literally been a month I’m so sorry)

I also made this into headcanons because I had a VISION and did not think to give it any justice. (koi youre seriously my number 1 supporter i hope you enjoy this garbage I just threw up, really)

Pining!Jealous!Jason Todd x Reader

Warnings: slight jealousy (not too overly consuming), alcohol consumption

Roy had invited Jason to hang out at the bar

Bros being bros

except...

Roy brought you along (because he KNOWS Jason has got a fat crush on you whether or not he’s told him)

(He tried to convince roy it’s not a crush, but always fails because his whole demeanour changes when you walk in the room)

examples:

he's always going to be standing beside you, consciously or not

jason isn't always a tense guy. But he for sure isn't as long as you're talking to him/looking at him/etc. (but if you put your hand on his arm/touch him in any way, it's game over)

your name is brought up, he's listening SO INTENTLY

like a dog when it hears its favourite word

Anyways

The three of you are sitting in a booth

It was originally you and roy before jason showed up, the two of you on either side

Jason shows up and just sits right next to you. No hesitation.

You and roy are laughing away, recounting stories and telling jokes.

Jason is just... really quiet

unusually quiet

He doesn’t look at you guys, rather looking out across the bar, trying to hide the fact he’s feeling this way

That he's feeling unreasonably jealous of his best friend

who literally brought you FOR JASON

He knows it’s stupid. He trusts both of you. You two are the two people he trusts the MOST

He hates that he’s like this, but he can't help it

Roy's better than him. You've known him for longer. He's making you laugh harder than Jason ever has. He's better looking, too. Older. More experienced.

His thoughts are clogging up his head. He's really not listening anymore, just holding his beer, eyes scanning the bar floor, watching the other patrons.

Then Roy is standing in front of him, saying something about using the bathroom.

He is giving a VERY pointed look at Jason.

a "make conversation with your crush or I'm shoving an arrow down your throat" kind of look

Jason felt a little stab of genuine anxiety shoot through him.

He's talked to you alone before. Many times. You two were friends, of course. He doesn't know why this is how he's feeling right now.

Then your hand is resting on his forearm.

Poor boy is still so caught up in his head he just looks down at your hand for definitely a second too long before finally meeting your gaze

Your gaze with those stupidly pretty eyes.

Then comes that horrendously pretty voice, "You alright?"

He nods. Shrugs. Like a stupid teenager who doesn't know how to handle his emotions.

He has to admit he's still a little tense about your attention being focused more on Roy. But not to you. He'd never admit it to you. You'd probably find it unattractive and then he'd really never have a chance.

“Yeah, no, im enjoying the talking. Always forget how well you and roy know each other”

“Oh yeah he just knows how to get me going. You know how he is”

Jason doesn’t know how he does it.

Like some leap of faith.

Some, jealousy super-powered leap.

He tries to be non-chalant about it.

“It’d be nice to do this again sometime. Maybe without Roy around.”

BOY'S HEART IS POUNDING

Sipping on his beer, looking down at it instead to avoid eye contact with you so he doesn't lose his cool.

Or someone show on his face that he is actually shitting bricks

You don't respond for a second and the alarm bells start going off in his head

WHY DID I SAY THAT WHY DID I SAY THAT WHY DID I SAY-

"It would be nice," you say, "Could we make it a date instead?"

He's smiling, turning to nod at you, "Course we can."

But his internal dialogue is just straight screaming at himself

"IDIOT YOU SHOULD'VE MADE IT OBVIOUS YOU WANTED IT TO BE A DATE IN THE FIRST PLACE"

The things jealousy will make you do

Roy comes back and sits down

Jason's into the conversation now

It doesn't really matter that Roy is still making you laugh

because he's not the one holding your hand under the table

AH I HOPE YOU LIKE -missy

I also love a jealous petty man (as long as it doesn't become toxic and he doesn't use it as an excuse to be an asshole)

#jason todd x reader #jason todd #jason todd x gn!reader #red hood #dc #dc x reader #red hood x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd imagine #jason todd fluff #red hood x you #dc x you #dc x y/n #jason todd x y/n #jealous!jason todd x reader #jealous!jason todd #cw jealousy #cw alcohol consumption #missy writes

437 notes · View notes

prettynice8 · 7 months

Text

Happy Birthday Bitch

Min Yoongi or Suga or Agust D x male reader, haters to lovers

The birthday boy

Stuff: Swearing, bottom reader, top Suga, sub reader, dom Suga, homophobic Suga but it's ok it's internalized, kissing but like aggressive, hate fucking, doggystyle, male reader, dick sucking (Suga receiving), creampie, kinda gay ngl, non-idol au, college au.

Word Count: 1,509

Summary: You and Min really hate each other. Anyway, he is having a birthday party and your friend invited you. Then the birthday boy demands his present from you or something.

Notes: sorry I haven't posted anything in a while, I just didn't really want to. Also fun fact, Suga used to be my least favorite member, I just thought that he was kind of boring compared to the other ones, but then I saw him rap in the Butter music video and had an epiphany of biblical proportion. Oh and Happy Birthday Suga.

It is moments like these that make you really hate your friends. Not only are they attending HIS party, but those butt sluts also invited you to come along. Those bitches were fully aware of your utter disdain for that fucking shit eating brainless fucking fucker, and yet they asked if you wanted to go. You said yes nonetheless but that is not the point.

You could never say no to a fun party, and the prospect of getting railed tonight was admittedly very pleasant sounding. You were aware that even though you hated the guy, he was very popular for some reason that you could never grasp.

He was just another dude who had nearly no personality or substance. A dumb look on his face that makes all the stupid bitches fawn over for some reason. Like he is not even that hot, sure he has an ab or two but that is it.

These thoughts kept swimming through your mind as you opened the door to the party that you could hear from miles away. As you walked in the smell of alcohol and the sight of random flashing lights was almost enough for you to pass out, the parties should be, which is almost even more angering that it came from HIM.

You were a little late because you only decided a few minutes ago that you were actually going. You made your way to the previously mentioned asshole friends that were invited to this place, but you were stopped by the man of the hour himself, Min Yoongi.

"I thought I had a no fags allowed rule." Yoongi stated, laughing at his own lazy "joke" if you can even call it that. The sudden appearance makes you jump, causing him to laugh more.

"Ew why are you talking to me!" You remarked disgustingly. "Don't you have other people to bother?"

"None as fun as you." He said, the shit eating smirk already on his face.

"Get a life." You snap at him, growing angrier every second you are in his presence. Almost walking away until he walks right in front of you, stopping your escape.

"Why are you even here?" He asked, arms crossed over his chest.

"You invited the whole school you stupid bitch." You responded aggressively, wanting this fucker gone.

"Fucking cock sucker." He exclaimed, laughing once again.

"Was that supposed to be an insult because you're just stating the obvious." You responded matter-of-factly, causing his laugh to stop and his face to solidify. "Or are you trying to start something?" You then winked at him, enjoying the uncomfortable silence he is giving you.

"Do you ever shut the fuck up?" He questioned back, his frustration growing as he stared daggers at you.

"Are you ever enjoyable to be around?" You asked, already knowing the answer being no. You try to walk away again but he grabs my arm and whispers in your ear.

"Why don't I make you." He started calmly. His voice actually sounded hot? Whatever it was, it did something to you. Confusion stirs inside of you as your mind races, though the inner turmoil is cut short when you feel something poking into your ass, already aware of what it is.

You let out a quick gasp, Min Yoongi, the man who hates you the most out of anyone you have ever known, is it hard for you? and you are getting turned by it? This must be a dream. Pinch me now.

"I'm going to do way worse." Yoongi stated. Wait, did he hear you, did you let that slip. What the fuck is happening. These thoughts spread through your mind, all of the noises and people all around you die down, Yoongi being the only thing on your mind.

"Let's go somewhere more... private." He ordered before taking your arm and leading you to his room

He brings you to his room, locks the door, and slams you into it, desperately kissing you.

His lips feel surprisingly good with your own, soft yet solid enough to leave quite the impact. You kiss him back just as desperately, your hands already going to take his shirt off, which he helps you with. Once it is off his lips crash right back on to yours where they belong.

He starts to become even more needy, diving his tongue into your mouth and exploring every part he can. His hands take your ass in vice grip as yours explore his broad and muscly torso, following each tone of his body.

"I still hate you." He said between tongue entanglements.

"Ditto." You said before diving right back in, but his hand stops you.

You let out muffled wails of confusion and frustration until he finally justifies himself. "I think your mouth can be used for more important things." was the last he said before bringing you to your knees.

Being an experienced little diva, you know exactly what to do. You strip his pants and boxers off in a single swipe. His throbbing member was already begging for your attention, you hated the guy but had to admit that he was packing some serious artillery.

Your hands begin to work on his shaft, pumping it slowly up and down while giving the tip light kisses, but that wasn't enough for him. So he shoves your head straight down onto his massive cock.

You take him so easily, his cock already all the way in. You begin moving your head up and down his length, the tip hitting your throat every time.

"God you're fucking good! I guess you had to be at something." He groaned, you respond by nipping him a little bit, which he responds with by fully fucking your throat.

He grabs your hair tightly and goes to mother fucking town. Thrusting his hips into your mouth, almost making you cum just from this, the thought of this monster going in your ass scares you so much it is sexual.

He finally starts emptying his balls into your throat, taking you off his dick. He doesn't even have to ask you to swallow before you have already done so.

"Fucking whore." He said as he picked you up and threw you onto the bed. Wasting no time with taking off your clothes, literally ripping your shirt in half.

"Hey!" You yell.

"You won't be going anywhere for a while, so shut the fuck up and get on your hands and knees." He demanded unapologetically.

You do exactly as he says, wanting to get fucked by his massive cock so badly it almost hurts.

He wastes no time with foreplay, only giving you one quick kiss which was surprisingly sweet, a spank, and he was off. He plunged is dick into you, bottoming out in one quick thrust.

Tears spilled from your eyes, but you can think about that right now when he is already going full force, fucking your ass like a semi-truck, that actually would be gentler.

He has a death grip on your hips that will absolutely bruise, he also keeps spanking your ass repeatedly leaving it bright red, his teeth also leaving love bites all over your neck, but you cannot thing about any of that when he is pounding into so hard, leaving all other sensations feel like child's play.

You would say that Yoongi is only chasing his own pleasure but then he starts pumping your painfully hard dick. He also occasionally plays with your sensitive nipples, how kind.

The sounds of Yoongi's groans and skin hitting skin is nothing compared to the sound of your moans filling the room and probably the house itself, oh yeah there was a party going on.

The thing on your mind is Yoongi's hand pulling your hair, the other gripping your ass, his lips leaving light kisses and love bits on your neck, his crashing into you, and his ass deeply hitting your ass.

"God fucking dammit, you take me so well pretty boy." He complimented, waited, complemented. Did Min Yoongi himself just give you a compliment, and call you a pretty boy? What the fuck is happening.

"I'm close, I'm going to cum right into you." He stated.

He pulls you back, so your back is touching his chest and pulls you into a deep kiss. Unlike the ones earlier where it was all sexual, this felt almost loving, like the one he gave you before permanently ruining your insides.

That was all you needed before shooting ropes of cum onto the mattress. He follows suit right into you, filling your insides with hot cum.

You crash onto the mattress, completely fucked out of your mind. Yoongi gets off the bed and leaves, good riddance you think.

Until he comes back with a rag to clean you up. He tosses it and gets right into his bed with you. Yoongi pulls you up and lays your head on his chest, giving you one quick kiss on the forehead.

"Best. Present. Ever." He said.

"Happy birthday bitch."

THE END

HAPPY BIRTHDAY SUGA 🎂 🥳 🎉 🎈 🎁 🎊 🎂 🥳 🎉 🎈 🎁 🎊 🎂 🥳 🎉 🎈 🎁 🎊 🎂 🥳 🎉 🎈 🎁 🎊 🎂 🥳 🎉 🎈 🎁 🎊 🎂 🥳 🎉 🎈 🎁 🎊 🎂 🥳 🎉 🎈 🎁 🎊 🎂 🥳

207 notes · View notes

souperbloom · 1 year

Text

being in love. [A.I.]

loosely based on lyrics of the song with the same title, by Wet Leg.

roadie! reader x Ashton

in which you realize your feelings for your boss are a lot more detrimental than you thought they were.

this was supposed to be short and i went overboard. oops! enjoy my first post :^)

CONTENT WARNINGS: tension/slight mental angst, mentions of weed smokin', sex in a somewhat public place/exhibitionism, teasing, fingering(f!receiving), dirty talk, degradation, straight up p in v, insinuation of a creampie, porn with plot basically, filth, filth, FILTH (there is something seriously wrong with me).

WORDCOUNT: 7.9k

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

You couldn’t fucking stand him.

As much as you wanted to believe that statement, your heart, mind, and soul found every which way to make you believe otherwise.

The days you spent with him dragged on. His over the top personality was like a vacuum cleaner that sucked every ounce of life out of you.

And yet, despite your annoyance with his ability to charm his way towards your demise, the days without him felt like a lifetime.

Since the first time you and Ashton hooked up, all you were able to think about, after the fact, were the things that you really shouldn’t have been.

Almost every night without missing a beat, you’d lie awake in bed; staring off at the ceiling through your post-show exhaustion and reminiscing on the hours you’ve spent with him. Sneaking off between down times and show times. For a quick and casual fuck.

You’d think about his terrible jokes, the little speckles of brown lost between the hues of green in his eyes, or his ability to make you feel like nothing in the best possible way.

You thought about them. You thought about him. All in hopes that one day, you’d think about him so hard that he would just vanish.

It was reverse psychology, you thought, a way to turn that fluttering feeling you get when you’re around him into something a little less existential, and more like you had both originally intended.

Something more casual.

You didn’t like the fact that he had this effect on you. He was about as brutish and irritating as the day is long. When it was just the two of you, you wished more than anything that he would stop being so damn’ sweet and charismatic. The thought of him calling you nicknames and whispering sweet nothings in your ear made you want to curl up and die.

But the vital organ pumping blood through your veins begged to differ.

Whenever he was around, the pounding of your heart against your ribcage was so deafening, you were almost certain that he could hear it.

It felt strange to wake up, to lie down, to close your eyes and think about anything else. You couldn’t even eat without the thought of him stirring up nausea in your stomach. It was almost as if nothing you did could satisfy you. Nothing you did was right.

Because any time without him felt so wrong.

There were moments in which you wondered whether or not he could feel it too. You'd catch him staring at you from across the dressing room, his eyes lingering down your frame for a millisecond longer than normal.

But you're never quite able to figure it out. To figure him out. He was a thousand piece puzzle, and you were stuck looking for the last piece between the couch cushions.

"Yo, earth to Y/N. Did we lose ya' again?"

Your trance is broken by the sound of Calum's voice. You had been so wrapped up in your own pity-party that you had completely forgotten that you were in the middle of a conversation.

"Jeez, are we really that boring?" Luke laughs out, leaning back in his seat, "I thought our conversation about green tea was quite compelling."

"Sorry, sorry..." You try to snap yourself out of whatever God forsaken rut you've dug yourself into, covering up the awkward silence with the clearing of your throat. "...I guess I don't like green tea as much as I thought I did."

"I'm with Y/N on this one. Green tea is fucking disgusting." Michael comes to your rescue with his reply, which practically had you kissing his shoes as a thank you for saving my ass.

"You guys clearly have no taste. It's simple." Luke shrugs, taking a sip of his ice water. "I know if Ashton was here he'd be on our side, right Cal?"

Calum nods his head, "Speaking of Ashton... where the fuck is he? He said he'd meet us..." he pauses his sentence to look at his phone, "...like, an hour ago."

The pit of your stomach lurches at Calum's observation. He was right. Ashton had said he'd be down in the lounge... after he took a quick shower.

But then again, a quick shower was one of those double entendres in you and Ashton's world. Was he waiting for you? Did you misread his subtle glance after he walked right past you when you tried to hand him his water?

Or maybe that wasn't the case. Maybe you’re just overthinking things.

Maybe he just looked at you because he's your boss and you're his roadie; who he just so happens to fuck from time to time.

That's all it was. That's all it ever will be.

"I can go look for him?" You blurt, immediately wanting to smack yourself in the face for sounding so small.

"You don't have to do that, Y/N. He'll find his way down eventually." Michael sighs.

"He's like a ghost, dude... He disappears for hours. Doesn't answer his phone. Then suddenly, POOF, he appears out of thin air. It's fuckin' witchcraft, I think..."

Calum's comment earns a roaring laugh from the rest of the guys, but you weren't at all laughing. You were too busy debating walking out of the door and hoping they wouldn't notice you were gone.

"I don't think I believe in ghosts..."

Another dumbass conversation ensues.

"Are you kidding?! Since when did you stop believing in ghosts?!" Luke seems genuinely offended by Michael's admission.

And yet, you were stuck there. Wanting to rip your hair out as a giant cloud of sex-driven frustration rained down on you.

"Speaking of ghosts," you can't help but interject, speaking a little louder than you had originally anticipated, "I think I’m gonna go look for Ashton. He's probably off haunting the bar down in the lobby…"

"Well, if you insist," Calum says, saluting you, "good luck, ghost hunter."

As you exited the lounge with no issue and let the boys be boys, you thought to yourself.

Hm, getting out of there was a lot easier than I had anticipated.

But what you hadn't anticipated was the sheer speed in which your feet would pound against the floorboards once you started off down the hall. For you knew just where to look for him.

You were on a mission. A mission to find Ashton, in hopes that he could be the one to free you of the confines of your frustration. In the best way you both knew how.

Once you made it to the elevator corridor, you had to take a moment. To collect yourself and think... what the fuck are you doing?

Did you really think that fucking Ashton would get your mind off of the romantic connection you so desperately craved in him? Did you really think this was the best idea you've ever had?

The answer was no. You knew that this whole ordeal would dig your metaphorical grave ten feet deeper. But you honestly didn't have the energy to care. This witch hunt has turned into merely a way to get off.

Just like God intended.

You step into the elevator, already knowing your way around this hotel like the back of your hand after only being stationed here for a few days.

As the elevator made its' trip up to the rooftop, your senses were heightened. The elevator dings sounded like sirens and the climbing of floors was pushing down on you, making you feel as though the oxygen in your lungs was being forced out by the altitude change.

Your symptoms couldn't be explained by anything other than Ashton, as much as you hated to admit it. It was typical for you to feel this way whenever you answered to his beckoning call.

Just a quick and casual fuck. Quick. And casual.

You tried to focus your mind on those two words. Forcing your conscious out of habit and tricking yourself into believing them.

But as soon as the elevator door slid open, those two words were nothing but dust in the wind.

All you could see in the darkness of the twinkling summer sky was the curve of Ashton's shoulder, highlighted slightly by the patio lights. He was looking out past the glass that surrounded the rooftop, off into the New York City skyline.

You froze up upon seeing him, barely managing to step across the elevator threshold without vomiting all over your shoes.

There were remnants of smoke lingering in the air around him, a familiar, earthy smell touching your nose upon piecing your two senses together.

Before you could tell your brain to step forward, Ashton's head turns to face you. You finally get a look at him, a good look at him.

And fuck, did he look divine.

His hair was partially wet, rogue curls hanging lowly on his forehead with that post show gleam still laced throughout his features. He scratches at the stubble on his chin, a droplet of water dripping down his temple upon doing so.

"Y/N," he leered, the blank expression that once painted his face now lifting into a smirk.

"Ashton," you reply; although small talk is the last thing you wished to be having at the moment.

"Where've ya' been?" he asks, leaning his arm to rest against the back of the couch he was sprawled out on.

"The lounge... The guys are down there waiting for you, y'know." You try to divert the attention away from yourself. But you knew for a fact that you were the only thing on his mind right now.

His eyes scan your body. Up, and down. Up, and down. Like he was stuck in some sort of trance. "Well, that's funny, isn't it. Because I've been up here… waiting for you."

You fuckin’ knew it.

"And how was I supposed to know that?"

He pauses, thumbing at his chin, "I'm not sure, actually... 'Thought you would've had me figured out by now."

It was taking everything inside of you not to run over there and smack the shit out of him for being such a snarky asshole. But you were well aware of the dynamic between you two; this type of banter wasn't out of the ordinary.

"You just gonna stand there and stare at me, honey?" Ashton remarks, calling you by that nickname that makes your stomach hurt and revealing his hand from behind the couch; a lit and half-smoked joint plucked between his fingertips.

Without another word, you walk over to him, slowly starting to display more and more of his body laid out on the couch.

He had on a loosely fitting Hawaiian shirt, one of the ones with only half the normal amount of buttons, and a pair of grey sweatpants. To contradict the tone of the outfit and make it totally clear to you where his head was at when he put them on.

The Hawaiian shirt hung off of his shoulders, revealing his collarbone decked out in beaded necklaces and braided silver chains.

You wanted more than anything to take those chains between your teeth as he hovered over you, pinning you down and fucking into you like you were the last two people on Earth.

Sidetracked, Y/N. You’re getting sidetracked.

When it came to hooking up, you and Ashton had discovered a natural rhythm. A routine, of sorts, consisting of unspoken demands and a whole lot of Ashton holding the reins.

No need to give orders, or ask for more. You both knew what you wanted and exactly how to get it.

But that routine so deeply instilled in you had seemed to vanish as soon as you stepped in front of him.

Your bottom lip was caught between your teeth as you teetered from side to side, just admiring Ashton in all of his residually high glory. You wanted to say something, but couldn't bring yourself to say anything else but these two words:

"Fuck me."

His eyes widen in shock. Amusement, even. The joint between his fingers dwindling down to the roach and leaving ashes in the wind as he lets out a quiet chuckle.

"Y/N, I—"

You cut him off abruptly, "It wasn't a fucking question, Ash."

You didn't mean to come off so bossily, but at this point you were willing to do anything to forget about the weight that came with having alleged feelings for him.

Even if that something was letting him fuck you until you cried.

"Right here?"

"Yes." Your heart was racing.

"Right now?"

"Yes." Reminiscent of a heart attack.

And then he does something that makes you even more frustrated than you were before this entire ordeal. He looks at you, without a care, and just… shrugs.

“Works for me.”

You hated that. Oh, you fucking hated that. That cocky, ‘devil-may-care’ attitude. It gets you so worked up that you consider winding up your fist and cracking him the jaw.

But you don’t end up going through with your desires to hurt him at all. Instead, you’re pouncing at him. Scrambling to straddle his comfortably spread legs as he pulls you by your cheeks into a heated kiss.

You sigh upon feeling your lips on his, Ashton just as well. The both of you tend to melt into each other’s palms when your lips connect; which is another reason as to why your head was all fucked up and sideways in the first place.

As the kiss between you grows more primal, you find yourself taking out your frustrations and feelings on Ashton’s bottom lip. You sink your teeth into the soft flesh, tugging it down gently towards his chin.

His hands fumble for the button of your jeans, grunting lowly as he struggles to get it undone.

"Fuck— Get these… Get these damn things off…" The remark flies past his lips, and yours, in a disgruntled huff. You do as you’re told, momentarily disconnecting from him.

When you rise to your feet, being held up by weak, unreliable knees, he looks up. That face of amusement was still painted on, mocking you.

Was he still thinking about your desperate demand? Or was he just enjoying the view?

"Someone’s a little greedy tonight," he says, blowing out a breath and running a hand through his fresh, now sweaty, curls.

"I don’t wanna hear shit from you. You’re the greediest motherfucker alive." You tease back at him, undoing your zipper and shimmying out of your jeans.

"I’ll take that as a compliment coming from you, Miss ‘I never know what I want and I need Ashton to tell me’.”

"I knew what I wanted tonight, didn’t I?" His threats were empty, but you were loving it. You loved to tease, loved to be teased.

"That is true,” he sighs, looking down at the roach he had flicked onto the floor. He stomps it out with his steel-toed boot. "But that’s, what, one time—? Out of the however-the-fuck many times we’ve slept together?"

“You’re making this a lot more complicated than it has to be, Ash. Fuckin’ live a little.”

You were now in your t-shirt and underwear out on this rooftop, telling Ashton to live a little while you’re practically caving in on yourself in embarrassment.

"But, honey... why out here? Why right now?" he asks. Genuinely. Almost sweetly.

You didn't want to admit the real reason as to why you were acting so curtly. The embarrassment of sounding desperate and needy was doing numbers on you already.

"Does there always need to be a reason why?"

You cross your arms over your chest, feeling overexposed. But Ashton’s eyes scan down your frame as if there’s no shame left in the world.

"My apologies for seeming hesitant... You know full and well— I’d do you any time, any place.”

"Is that so?” you quip.

"I don’t think you realize how often I think about having you bouncing on my dick while I’m out on stage performing, so— yes, that is so.”

The way he admits this all so casually makes your stomach turn. You knew he was dirty, but not this dirty. You just assumed he knew that there was a time and place for all of these thoughts.

And the fact that he was thinking about you at all wasn’t making this any easier.

"Well?” Ashton snaps your mind out of the gutter. Ironic.

"Well what?"

"You just gonna stand there in your underwear?"

Oh. Right.

After a moment of blundering awkwardness, you walk towards him timidly, feeling as if your soul was freeing itself from your body as he extends his arms out to hold you.

You make your way back into his lap, digging your knees into the cushions comfortably beside his thighs and letting him run his blistered palm down the side of your face.

His bloodshot eyes find yours like a magnet. Your breath is trapped somewhere in your larynx as his hand continues its journey to your neck.

You felt like you were about to burst at the seams, the tension and friction building between you was like a bottle rocket, ready to set off into the sky.

And with that, exactly on cue, your heart is racing, as he cups your throat between ring finger and thumb. Your rattling ribcage was telling him all he needed to know when the pads of his fingers began to squeeze gently.

You close your eyes, "Ashton..."

"Y/N..." He repeats matching your hushed tone, swallowing the lump in his throat as your noses brush together.

His nose grazes yours with fragility and tenderness, his touch as light as a feather. But you couldn’t stand the space between you two. The clear disconnect between your lips and his.

He seemed to be lingering longer than usual. You found yourself wondering what the hell was going on in his head. Since you had clearly told him what you wanted a long time ago.

"Why aren’t you kissing me?" you ask quietly, still so close to his face that his features had gone blurry.

"Could ask you the same question, honey." His breath fans across your face and suddenly you’re reverting back to your old ways. Back before you were so— demanding.

“Well, not to be clichè, but— you’re meant to take the lead here, Ash.” You say it as if it were obvious, but he disagrees.

"Clearly not tonight."

Now, you were stuck.

You came up here to find him for one reason, and one reason only. To fuck him… to get your mind off of him.

But that all sounded a bit complicated, though. Didn’t it?

"Y/N…" He says your name again, reminiscent of pure honey dripping off of his tongue.

"Hm...?"

God, what is with him and saying your name?

"Is there something on your mind?"

You cock your head, "Would you still fuck me if I said no?..."

Ashton’s eyebrows shoot to his forehead.

"…Even if I wasn’t telling the whole truth?"

He backs away from you, giving you a better look at the confused expression laminated across his face.

"You’re a real card, aren’t’cha?”

His confusion melts into a smile, as he removes his hand from your neck to match his other at your waist. "You know I’d never force anything out of you, Y/N. But— just so you know… Honesty is the first chapter in the book of wisdom."

You can’t help but roll your eyes at his terrible cliché, finding your hand lost in his unruly curls. "You’re such an old man."

He winces, "God— please… Don’t put that picture in my head… It’s killing the mood."

In the brief moment of silence and sweetness shared between you and him, it was taking everything inside of you not to scream at the top of your lungs.

You wanted to scream; Ashton Irwin, I am in love with you. Ashton Irwin, I am in love with you… over and over again.

Until it didn’t mean a thing.

"Not gonna lie to you, honey— M’gettin’ impatient." Ashton lets out a deep sigh, his eyes snapping you out of a downward spiral.

"Right, right. I’m sorry—"

You cut yourself short by reconnecting your lips to his. You missed this feeling, even after only a few minutes; something inside of you dies every time you pull away from him.

He pulls your waist into his torso, pushing you down and grinding you against the already hardened length in his sweatpants. The wildly thin material left no room for the imagination, as it was now creating friction against your wet panties.

"Fuckin’ hell, Y/N—" Ashton mumbles through your lips, and you just sigh. You sigh into him like putty in his hands, creating a rhythm of swiveling hips and only furthering the fireworks that were occurring in the pit of your stomach.

He removes one hand from your waist, blindly finding the waistband of your underwear like it was some mindless, natural instinct.

Muscle memory is a damned thing.

Detaching your lips from his, you whine. "Ash, please—"

You wince internally at how needy you sounded. How desperate and completely disheveled you’ve become at his touch. Yet the blistered pads of his fingers continued to trace slow, taunting patterns along your bikini line.

But as your breathing becomes more erratic, Ashton reads you like the book he already knows so well. Front page to back, cover to fucking cover.

He dips two fingers down into your underwear, attaching them to your sensitive bud.

You writhe above him, but he keeps you grounded, anchoring his hand on your waist with his forehead pressed against yours.

His eyes flutter closed in delight. "So fuckin’ wet for me, yeah? This’ all for me, honey?"

It felt like he was mocking you. Of course it was for him. It was all for him. Anything you ever did was for him. Any feelings you’ve felt, thoughts you’ve had, stories you’ve told… they were all for him.

You can only bring yourself to nod.

"Good, good…" he sighs, breathlessly, "Gonna’ take me so easy tonight…"

He continues his rhythm. One finger circling your clit while the other ghosts over your entrance. Heavenly sighs fall from your lips. You want to close your eyes, you want to enjoy the sensation as it were.

But you just couldn’t look away.

"Look at me, Ash."

A bout of confidence rolls through your veins and you aren’t quite sure where it was coming from, but you had no complaints. Your foreheads being pressed together was making you antsy.

His features were still blurry through glossy eyes, which you didn’t really like. You wanted to get a good look at him before you tried to dismiss these feelings, and pretend as though he meant nothing.

Nothing at all.

He does as he’s told, and backs away from you. His teeth sunk into his bottom lip as he took in every single feature, etching, God knows what else, on your face.

"You know how fuckin’ beautiful you are, Y/N?— Always so good for me… like an angel… heaven sent."

Those words unleash something inside of you. Tears begin to brim at your lower lash line and you’re suddenly reminded of the feeling that you are so desperately trying to forget.

Existing in this world with him felt so strange. You truly believe he was sent down to Earth to smite you and haunt your memories.

And hearing him call you an angel didn’t help a damn thing.

The words you utter next come out just above a whisper. Your throat feels gravelly, and dry. Like you hadn’t drank water in years.

"Fuck me, Ashton. Just— fuck me, please—"

"M’gettin' there," he grunts, ignoring your plea and still chipping away at your decorum with his bare hands.

You let out a loud, high pitched mewl as you feel his two fingers now inside of you. He always took his time when it came to pleasuring you, always making sure that you’d be the one getting off first, even if he didn’t get the chance to.

Now, you’ve found yourself thinking in depth about just how thoughtful he is.

Jesus fuck, give it a rest.

"You know how much I adore those sweet sounds you make. But you’ve gotta be a tad bit quieter for me, alright angel?"

Oh god, you thought, this nickname better not become a recurring thing. You weren’t even sure you’d be able to fathom the thought of him thinking of you so highly.

"Okay, oh— fuck, Ashton"

Your brain was moving at a mile a minute. While trying to be quiet and simultaneously losing your head in the process, a smirk slides across Ashton’s face. He picks up on the signs, he notices your movements on his lap becoming more and more frenzied.

You knew you were close. He knew you were close.

Oh, of course he fucking did. He knew you like the back of his hand.

"Ash, I’m close… Please—" You begged empty pleas, finding stability with your hands clasped around his neck as you jerk forward with that fluttering feeling.

"I feel it comin’. Bein’ so— so good… C’mon— give it to me."

His two fingers thrust in and out of you while a third circled your clit. You wanted to scream, but he told you to be quiet. You wanted to kiss him, but you couldn’t pull yourself away from the purely concentrated, almost sadistic look in his eyes.

"That’s my girl… that’s my fuckin’ girl…"

The sounds of your wetness boom through your head along with the sounds of his praise, slowly meshing into a garish ringing in your ear. The butterflies once encased in the pit of your stomach had set free, fluttering along your body as Ashton’s rhythmic fingers come to a slowdown.

"Fuck!" You cry out, as your body collapses into his chest.

You could feel his ribcage shake with laughter, as he takes that free hand of his to rub your back. Your head is tossed over his shoulder as you manage your breathing.

"…Is that all you’ve got in you tonight?"

You could barely hear his voice over the ringing in your ears, as you heave like this was the last breath you’d ever take. He then removes his fingers from inside of you, causing you to jolt, still sensitive from the electricity coursing through your veins just moments before.

"N—no…" You stutter into his neck.

"You sure?"

"Uh-huh."

Your head was still spinning while you tried to cool down. The temperature of your bodies entwined was like a hot stovetop, setting your skin ablaze. But you couldn’t find it in you to lift yourself up from the crook of his shoulder.

You liked it there. It was comfortable. It felt natural.

After a few moments of silence and messy breathing, you lift your head up.

"All good now?" He asks, running a hand down your waist.

"I think so... Almost knocked me out with that one Ash, not gonna lie."

All he does is laugh, before hovering the two fingers he had used to unravel you with in front of the both of your faces.

"See this?" He examines his fingers, still glistening with your secretions, "Is this what I do to you?"

Your jaw falls open slightly, "Wh—"

He takes a moment to think to himself, pushing his lips to the side while you just watched in complete awe.

"…I wonder if my honey girl tastes as sweet as she looks?"

You don’t even have a moment to blink before he takes those two fingers into his mouth. He sucks whatever’s left of you off of his digits, before pulling them out with a pop.

"Mmm," he hums, "Just as I’d imagined… Sweet as fuckin’ honey"

Something inside of you snaps, and you’re suddenly reattaching your lips to his. He moans into you, taken aback by your actions with his hands fumbling to grab your ass and grind you down into him.

"I need— I need you…" You mumble into his lips, not long before he juts his tongue out to run it across your bottom lip.

His stubble scratches against your palms as you grab ahold of his face, trying to ease him into you as if it were even humanly possible to get him any closer.

"Need me t’fuck you, honey? You— you want me that badly?" He asks quickly, sounding out of breath already from the sheer friction of your hips grinding against him. You nod rapidly, and he dips down to kiss your neck to let you know that he heard you loud and clear.

“Please, Ash…" You couldn’t help it, your mind was still reeling, "I need to feel you—"

Your words come out airy and forced, like somebody was squeezing them out of you. But you couldn’t stop yourself no matter how hard you bit down your tongue.

"...Fuck me like I’m worthless… Fuck me like I mean nothing to you at all…"

His head pops up from the crook of your neck, a sardonic look in his eye.

"Say that again for me?"

"…Fuck me like I mean nothing to you, Ashton. Fuck me like I mean nothing at all.”

You couldn’t describe the way his face changed. The way it morphed into something that you weren’t at all used to. It wasn’t sarcastic, no. It wasn’t the usual cheeky grin, either.

You were afraid that you had just dug your grave even deeper this time.

"Stand up." He demands shortly, which brings goosebumps across your arms.

"Stand up?" You repeat, like a goddamn lovesick puppy.

"Stand the fuck up, Y/N."

You do as you’re told, wearily, lifting yourself off of him and rising to your feet. You watch in anticipation, crossing your arms over your chest as he remains sitting.

The dynamic between you two had shifted drastically. It was clear that Ashton was still in charge, only this time, it felt absolutely terrifying.

You wished you hadn’t said anything at all. You wished he had just let you ride him, as you were planning to do. But your emotions gotten the best of you. The thought of caring for him so deeply had actually brought you to spiral out of control.

What you had been longing for, all this time, was about to come true.

With that, you planned to do everything you were told. Each and every single order barked at you was to be followed. You wanted to see what it felt like. What it felt like to feel nothing for a change.

"Walk to the balcony." Another demand. You hesitate, still dealing with a subconscious battle of self. Your heart and brain were going at it like two bulls in the ring.

"Are you— are you gonna come with me?" You find your gaze glued to the patio, feeling as small and as meek as ever.

"Meh, I’ll make my way over eventually."

Fair enough.

You walk over towards the balcony; left only in your thin, grey CREW v-neck and a pair of frilly, sage green underwear.

The fact that Ashton didn’t comment on the color of them made you feel a bit discouraged. Green was his favorite color, after all. You at least thought he’d take a moment to appreciate it.

God knows that moment won’t be happening now.

You start to near the glass railing that surrounded the rooftop. But despite your back being turned, you could completely feel his eyes searing bullet holes into your flesh. A chill ran down your spine, uncomfortable with the feeling of being watched, yet enjoying the fact that it was by him.

"Keep walking."

You were getting so close to the glass that it actually started to feel cold, despite the lingering August air.

You also weren’t sure where his head was at. Him having you walk towards the balcony that was completely out-turned and visible to the street below almost felt like he was trying to humiliate you.

But that feeling was quickly washed away when you felt his footsteps behind you.

"You have any idea what you’ve just gotten yourself into, honey?” He inches close to you, close enough to feel the warmth of his body radiating onto your back yet still too far away to touch you.

You swallow the lump forming in your throat. “No… I-I don’t think so…"

You were telling the truth. No, Ashton, you had not a clue what you had just gotten yourself into. The absolute wormhole that you had just unlocked for yourself.

A new way to feel about things. A new way to feel about him.

Another wave of chills runs down your back as he takes the back of his hand and runs it down your shoulder. You wince, wanting nothing more than to turn around and kiss him.

"I didn’t think you had it in you."

"What?" Your voice comes out high pitched. Almost… nervous.

"To order me around like that. To finally buck up n’ tell me how to have my way with ya’… It’s honestly— kind of impressive."

His hand strokes down your arm once again, but this time, you just sigh.

He thinks this is just roleplay.

Little did he know that all of this nagging and bossiness had come from the truest, most integral parts of your soul and your longing to forget about the way your heart beats for him.

"You think so?" You try to gain back your sparkle with a witty reply, "How else can I impress you, Ash?"

All of these words exchanged between you two were said facing away from one another. You hadn’t the energy to care, nor the energy to make this anymore meaningful than it was, or was not, supposed to be.

You’ve finally decided to let go.

"Well, you can start by bending over." He snaps back. He’s always been so quick with his words.

To follow your mantra from before, you do as you’re told, bending over slightly and exposing your bare asscheeks to him. You lean your arms over the glass railing, your wrists going limp in doing so.

"’Like the view?" You ask, sparing him a glance over your shoulder in hopes to get a little more of a rise out of him.

"The view won’t mean much while I’m using you, honey."

Your face grows pale, a rush of static that felt like pinpricks crawls across your body. Jesus fuckin’ Christ, Ashton.

The excitement and rush of it all is now, finally, catching up to you. You were about to have meaningless sex with the person that means the most. In a way, it did feel like roleplay.

Except your role was pretending like you didn’t give a fuck about him.

"Gimme’ your wrist." You hear Ashton bark another command from behind you, along with the shuffling of fabric. Before you could even offer your wrist to him, he’s taking it upon himself to reach up and grab it.

He swiftly pins one of your arms behind your back, making you gasp and teeter on your feet.

"Ashton…" You try to say, but are immediately silenced by his other hand hooking a finger to the waistline of your panties.

"Don’t say another word, Y/N. You’re in no position to talk right now."

Your breath gets caught in your throat, now with your one free hand anchored to the railing. It was all a waiting game, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t extremely turned on by him and his newfound unpredictability.

"I have a job for you." His voice rings in your ears, as he bends down above you to be parallel to your curved back. "…Think you could follow some orders f’me? Just for tonight?"

Just for tonight, you thought. Just for tonight.

You nod at his question. It was the only thing you were capable of doing, anyway.

"You’re gonna take my cock… But I don’t wanna hear a peep from that dirty mouth of yours. One fuckin’ sound and I swear… I’ll send you back downstairs with mascara running down your face and nothin’ to fuckin’ show for it."

You nod again. You were a nodding, blubbering mess.

"Think you could do that for me? Think you could be good enough for me to let you cum again?"

You nod, once again.

"And you told me what you wanted, right? Told me loud and clear how you wanted me to treat you? Out here— where there’s a small chance somebody could walk in on this?"

His pelvis presses against you as he taunts, and you’re left feeling even weaker in the knees.

This time, it wasn’t a nod. It was more of a sob.

"Good, good to know…" He softens his tone, lips now centimeters away from your ear.

"…Now bend the fuck over n’ let me use you like you’re nothing."

In a flash of vibrant colors swirling around the backs of your eyelids, you feel Ashton push your panties aside. He runs two fingers up your damp slit, bringing your face to a pinch.

You were still so sensitive after letting him have his way with you the first time. But you couldn’t fathom going another minute without the feeling of him buried inside of you.

"Please—" You whisper, but only to yourself.

You didn’t want to know what he’d do if he’d heard it.

His next movements were methodical, and slow, like he was a puppeteer playing with your strings. His hands dance along the sides of your hips, moving up to rub the small of your back.

He puffs out a breath, seemingly taking you in from behind.

"You're a fuckin' vision, Y/N... It's too bad you don't want me to treat you that way."

His ceaseless taunting was making your vision go shaky.

But you needed to keep reminding yourself... you fucking asked for it.

"Gonna let me use you, honey? Like my own personal doll... that I can toss around n' rough up... Mmm, 'bet you've been thinking about this for a while, haven't you?"

"Ashton..." You can help but let his name tumble from your lips. But in a flash, his hand is cracking down on your bare asscheek, creating a loud clap that you swore could be heard for miles. You let out a yelp, but quickly clamp your lips shut.

Your skin burns from the contact, your mouth going bone dry.

"What did I fucking say about that mouth of yours, Y/N? Not a fucking peep."

As he guides himself up and down your slit, collecting your juices on his leaky tip, you choke back the tears in your eyes. You still wanted nothing more than to turn around and kiss him, which was just a damned thing.

"So wet f'me... God, I'm in heaven."

It was almost as if each string of sentences that came out of his mouth were traveling in through one ear and right out of the other. I suppose this was your karma for being so demanding.

But this is what you wanted, wasn't it? Even though Ashton's means of 'fucking you like you're worthless' still came with bouts of praise, he couldn't help it. He was only human. Testing the waters for the both of you.

Roleplay.

He traces one last drag along your folds, pushing your panties aside with his tip before suddenly slamming himself into you. You gasp at the sudden feeling of him, your body lurching forward towards the railing as his grip on your wrist grows tighter.

"Jesus fuck—." He groans through bated breath before starting his rhythm of pounding into you.

It starts off slowly. The feeling of him filling you up as your walls clench around him must've felt like heaven to the both of you, for he let out a long, dreamy sigh. The hand that was once toying with the hemline of your lacy panties was now planted on the small of your back, using you as leverage as he slammed his cock deeper with each stroke.

Ashton hums, the sounds of slapping skin now engulfing the air around you. "Fuckin' love this pussy... Like it was fuckin' made for me..."

The air in your lungs started to dissipate, practically leaving you begging for mercy at his expense. Your body jolted with each of his deep thrusts, still trying to stay quiet and do exactly as he had demanded of you.

His grip on your wrist had begun to feel raw, surely to leave you with some kind of marking, reinstating the absolute chokehold he has on you.

"Ash..." You whisper again, as he's grunting and whining from behind you.

"Whose fuckin' pussy is this? Whose fuckin' pussy is this?" He asks the question and you whimper, unable to gather any syllable of a sentence on your tongue.

Suddenly, he releases your wrist, picking up his rhythm of fucking into you. Your arm drops to your side like a ragdoll, as you scramble to balance it next to your other on the railing.

The hand of his that once held your wrist captive had traveled down to meet his other, gripping your waist and digging his blistered fingertips into your flesh.

"Fuck... fuckin' shit, Y/N... Takin' my cock so well..."

Using his hands anchored to your waist, he starts to pull you into him, slamming your hips into his pelvic bone and hitting that sweet spot with every. Single. Stroke.

"Fuck, you’re heavenly…. My sweet, sweet girl…"

At this point in time, you could care less about the semantics of this all.

Although the point of this was for Ashton to have his way with you without a single feeling attached, it seemed as though he couldn’t really help it. He was a blubbering mess of compliments and praise, a true gentleman through and through.

But that was something to think about while you lay awake in bed tonight.

For now, you just decided to live in the moment.

Ashton’s rhythm had grown sloppy. He was awfully close to making you finish for a second time, with each buck of his hips— meanwhile it was taking every last bit of your consciousness to keep yourself quiet. The pit of your stomach squeezed with each primal sound that fell from his plush lips.

"M’gonna cum soon, honey… ‘Gonna fill you up, yeah? Would you like that? Want me t’fill you up?"

Unsure of whether or not to verbalize your consent, you nod. Like a bobble-head on a broken spring.

"That’s my girl. That’s— my fuckin’ girl.”

Despite Ashton’s imminent orgasm, you could only think about two words.

My girl. My girl. My girl

They were flashing around your mind like the billboards in the Manhattan streets below. Each thought of those two words produced vibrant colors behind your eyelids, stars now fogging up the blackness as he slams into you a few more times.

"Gonna' cum, honey... G-Gonna' fill you up, m'kay? Fuck..."

With one final pound into you, the pulsing throbbing of his cock had come to a slowdown. You both let out a collective gasp, as the heat ignited between your bodies had meshed into a warm, fuzzy feeling in your chest.

Ashton collapses onto your back, the front half of his body slicked with sweat and pressing into you. Your breathing had begun to sync up collectively, only for him to pull out of you and make your entire body jolt.

"Fuck, Ashton."

You were finally able to speak again. You had gotten your words back, as well as your confidence. And the feeling of his presence behind you was all you needed to get you there.

He huffs, finally lifting himself off of you. But you lag behind, taking a moment to collect your breathing as he pulls his sweatpants up.

"Jesus Christ, honey. You're a goddamn dream." He chuckles, stepping back and allowing you the space to turn around.

And that you did. Finally faced with that dream he was on about.

Sweaty, messy curls glued and rearranged to his forehead. Glossy, hooded, fucked-out eyes. The fabric of his Hawaiian shirt soaked with the mixing of your sweat and his.

He looked obscene. He looked ethereal. You wanted to tell him how absolutely picturesque he was in that moment. You wanted to give him every gorgeous compliment you could think of.

But you didn't. You couldn't.

So you said this instead.

"...It'd be a dream if you could grab my jeans."

"Don’t be impolite, Y/N. What's the magic word?" He teases, motioning towards your jeans that had been discarded in a pile on the patio.

"Oh, so now you want me to talk, tough guy? After you just fucked the goddamn life out of me?"

He shrugs, "I wouldn't say I fucked the life out of you... If that was the case, you wouldn't be standing upright."

You huff, frustrated, but loving every second of it.

"Just– grab me my damn jeans, Irwin."

He does as he's told, begrudgingly walking the short few feet to grab your jeans as you stand, cross-legged, bare-assed, with your back against the glass.

"Your majesty," he bows, holding your pants out on his arm like a knight with your crown.

"Thank you."

As you put on your jeans, Ashton watches you. With those whiskey, honeypot eyes. Scanning down every inch of you as you put one leg in, then the other.

"If it were up to me, I'd send you back down pants-less."

"Yeah, right." You scoff, reverting back to your old ways of a thumping heart and a pain in your chest, "You know how much trouble I'd be in?"

"Trouble by who? I'm your boss, aren't I?"

You puff, pulling up the zipper of your jeans, "You don't act like it."

"Want me to start then?" He quips.

"...No. Absolutely not."

Ashton tosses you a smile, not long before he's holding out his arms.

"That's what I thought, honey," he motions for you with his hands, "Now c'mere."

Without even thinking, almost as if it were rehearsed, you spin around, falling backwards into his arms. He wraps himself around you, broad biceps squeezing your shoulders like a butterfly in its' cocoon.

The Manhattan night sky was twinkling with lights and stars. You stare out into it, and he does too.

As you stand cradled in his arms with the lingering of pitiful, degrading sex still in the air, you sat in your thoughts for a moment.

What happened tonight couldn’t have been a mistake. You had been speaking it into existence for so long, that it finally became a reality. From the way he so passionately kissed you, to the way he so effortlessly dropped everything to fuck you like you were worthless. Just like you had asked. Just liked you had intended.

But you knew, despite everything that happened tonight, that not a single thing would change.

Your heart would still flutter out of your ribcage whenever he walked by. You’d still answer his calls late at night, or spare him passing glances in the concert halls.

You’d still come to meet him, no matter when or where. All with that same, God awful weight on your chest.

It all made you feel terrible. Everything about him made you feel terrible.

But you were willing to get used to that feeling.

To be completely honest with yourself…

You kind of liked it.

It felt like being in love

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

#ashton irwin #ashton #ashton 5 seconds of summer #5sos #5 seconds of summer #oh this is filth #what have i done #5sos fanfic #ashton irwin smut #5sos smut

415 notes · View notes

hannyoontify · 1 year

Text

seventeen's reaction to you stopping to tie your shoelace

warnings | js a few curse words lol, not proofread

notes | inspired by @m00mis's post :D thank you to anon for finding the original post!

seungcheol

cheol would instantly realize you were no longer walking by his side and stop to wait for you. stands next to you while he waits, and if you guys were in a crowded area, he would act kind of like a bodyguard and make sure no one runs into you or trips over your hunched over form. once you’re done, he’ll help you stand back up and press quick kiss js bc he wants to :D

jeonghan

when you kneel down on one knee to tie your shoelace, he’ll wait a little bit before pushing you so that you would lose your balance and fall over. ‘yoon jeonghan! you’re a fucking asshole!’ as soon as he pushes you over, he’ll run away so he can escape your wrath but he’ll return right away once you start complaining. ‘’m sorry angel’ presses a kiss on your knuckle as an apology. throughout the rest of your walk, he’ll probably randomly giggle when he remembers how you fell over

joshua

when you crouch down to tie your shoelace, he’ll tap a rhythm on your head while he’s waiting. ‘guess what song this is’ ‘shua you’re hitting straight quarter notes how am i supposed to know what song that is’ ‘wrong answer, it was sunday morning by maroon 5’ oh and LMAO he might ask you to check his own laces and re-tie them if needed. oh and next time your shoelace comes untied, he’s doing the tying bc he thinks you’re too slow (he doesn’t actually think that, he js wants to do it for you)

junhui

‘[Name], your shoelace is untied’ before you can react, this sweet sweet boy is tying your shoelace for you. while you’re waiting, you play with his hair and make cat ears with them since you’re bored. ‘wen junhui, you’ve become a cat’ and you can hear a small meow from where he’s kneeling (cute) once he’s done, he’ll jump back up and look at you with a proud smile. he’ll point at your feet ‘i turned them into bunny ears, aren’t they cute?’ you thought it was very cute.

hoshi

when hoshi sees you get down on one knee in the middle of the amusement park, he gasps dramatically and brings a hand over his mouth. ‘OH MY GOD’ he’ll literally start screaming hysterically and running around and everyone and their mother is looking at hoshi because he’s going crazy while his partner is calmly tying their shoelace like it’s nothing. ‘i didn’t expect you to do it here [Name]- [Name]? why are you standing up again?’ when he finally looks back at you, you’re already done tying your shoelace. you look at him with a confused expression, and he can feel the world around him crumble away as he falls to his knees in despair. ‘kwon soonyoung did you think i was proposing to you?!’

wonwoo

when you stop to tie your shoelace, you noticed that wonwoo always crouches down with you and just watches you tie your laces. so one time, you asked him why he always crouched down with you and he said that it was bc he didn’t want to miss a single word of what you were saying. his answer was unexpectedly sweet so now, whenever you’re done tying your shoelaces, you always press a kiss to your sweet boyfriend’s lips before standing back up

woozi

‘oh wait love, your shoelace is untied’ you both bend down at the same time, causing your heads to bump into each other and you giggle. you let woozi tie it for you, but you stay bent down, just to keep him company. once he’s done, he’ll get up first, help you up, and then compliment your shoes

minghao

if you crouch down on the floor to tie your shoelace, minghao is gonna stop you and pull you to a bench or something else that was elevated bc he does NOT want you kneeling on the dirty floor. he’ll keep a hand on your back/shoulder to keep you stable and once you’re done, he’ll grab your hand almost immediately. ‘done? good bc i want ice cream’

mingyu

mingyu’s telling you some story about a joke the boys pulled on him and he becomes so immersed in his storytelling that he doesn’t notice you’re almost 20 paces behind him, tying your shoelace. ‘so that was pretty funny. wasn’t it, [Name]? [Name]? WHERE’D YOU GO’ he’ll whip around in a circle, looking for you frantically before you finally manage to catch up to him. ‘does this mean you missed half of my story’

dokyeom

when dokyeom notices that your shoelace is untied, he’ll get down, prop up one knee, and pat his leg, telling you to rest your foot on his thigh. you do so, and while he ties your shoelace, you use his shoulder to balance yourself. once he’s done, you put down your foot and kiss his cheek. ‘thanks min’ ‘anything for my princess’

seungkwan

mother seungkwan mode: activated ‘make sure you double knot… do you know how to double knot?’ ‘kwan, i’m the one who taught you how to double knot’ ‘right’ he’ll pretend to be done with you and be impatient, but he’ll immediately help you up once you’re done and brush off your knees. he was probably also the one who noticed your untied shoelace first and pointed it out to you

vernon

‘babe wait, my shoelace is untied’ before you can react, vernon hands you his drink so he can tie your shoelace for you. why do i feel like he can do the super fast thing where it takes literally one second to tie your laces anyway, once he’s done, he’ll pat your leg(?) like a dad before standing back up and taking his drink back. ‘it should be all good now. sorry for not noticing earlier’

dino

chan would do rock paper scissors with you to decide who re-ties them (it didn’t matter whose shoes, you guys always did it to decide). it wasn’t that he didn’t want to or you didn’t want to, you guys js thought that it would make it more fun :)) if he was the one who won, he’ll probably make groaning noises as he makes his way down, complaining about how old he’s getting and how his joints aren’t like they used to be anymore. ‘chan, you’re not even a quarter of 100 yet, stop being dramatic’ that usually gets him to be quiet (for now..) and once he’s done, he’ll get back up, kiss you, and then continue walking down the street with you

reblogs and feedback is always appreciated ^-^

721 notes · View notes

justwinginglife · 1 month

Note

Dude just imagine Kafka has a little sister and everybody knows it but they didn't now that his little sister also now about her brother Kaiju secret.

So a scenario where kafka got notice but his sister defended him OR a scenario where the sister calls for Kafka bcs she's scared and couldn't handle losing her friends/comrades.(Almost like Daki calling Gyotaro hehehe)

Freader is Kafka little sister btw.

just choose which one you want to do I don't mind.

AHH sorry I took so long with this one. Got stuck in my Hoshina world for awhile. But I'm ready for Kafka now. (Also I just realized after I posted this, I might not have hit everything you wanted in that request, but fuck it, it's 2 in the morning, forgive me)

You never asked for anything.

You wanted many things, but you never asked and that was one of the things Kafka loved about you. Even despite his begging and his pleading for you to tell him what you were thinking, for you to let him spoil you rotten, he appreciated that you were always being considerate of him, not wanting to take up his time or his money.

Growing up with you, he'd learned to watch the path of your gaze or to follow the trail of your fingers, and see where it lingered in the shop windows and the store shelves just a second longer. And then you'd end up with a random gift on a random Tuesday just because he knew you wanted that headband or that new toy but would never tell anyone. He didn't need to wait for a special occasion to treat his little sister, everyday was a special day to him because he loved you.

It was that heart of his, that desire to protect the happiness of others and that determination to follow through on that desire, that made you confident that one day he'd be a Defense Force officer, even if eventually he had stopped believing he'd be one himself.

You always knew he was destined for great things and you didn't want to hold your big brother back so you buried yourself in your schoolwork. You wanted to find a means of supporting yourself and you wanted to be confident enough to reassure him that you'd be okay without him. But you wouldn't. You missed him terribly all the time. Missed him ruffling your hair, nudging your side, grinning widely, making stupid jokes, being stupidly optimistic all the time. But this was something he needed to do without you, and when he was ready to try again, to reach for his future, you wanted him to have both hands free.

Even when he'd confessed to you that he was Kaiju number 8, you encouraged him to keep pursuing his dream of being in the Defense Force. When you got the news that he had made it, you threw him the biggest party. You'd been his biggest supporter for so long, how could you not?

And then you didn't see him for awhile. He did try to visit you frequently, but you knew he would have to fight to keep his place in the Defense Force, beside all the other impressive officers, so you'd make up excuses to be busy so that he'd focus on his training instead of you. He must've known what you were doing, because he still found time to mail you gifts and letters to thank you for your support. But he did as you wanted, he focused on getting stronger, on being better, on being someone you could be proud of.

Then, one day, your college got attacked. Of course the Defense Force got called in, but they were so busy focused on the rampaging Honju; no one had time for a small Yoju that had wandered away from the stampeding hoard and cornered your best friends in a deserted part of the school campus. You were supposed to be with them, but you thought you'd pick up some coffees for everyone on the way over, a little pick-me-up to help with another late night study session. When you saw the Yoju chasing them across the schoolyard, you dropped your tray of drinks. Before they even hit the ground, you had your phone out, calling your brother.

"Kafka. I... I need you. I'm at school. My friends... my friends are under attack, please hurry. Please come quick. I need you."

You never asked for anything.

But all this time you'd spent holding back from running into your brother's arms, crying to him when you'd gotten a slightly lower grade than normal, or bitching about the sheer amount of projects you had due in one session, all this time you'd spent depriving yourself of a normal relationship with the only family you had, your friends were there for you instead. Cheering you on, through every test, every speech, every assignment, cheering you on the way you missed him cheering you on. You needed them.

And right now, they needed you too. You weren't strong enough to save them, but you could be strong enough to suck up your pride and ask your brother for help for once.

When he arrived in a few minutes flat, ready to do anything and everything you asked, you almost cried.

Suddenly memories came flooding back to you. Kafka catching you falling out of a tree when you'd ignored his warning not to climb too high and you'd slipped off a weak branch. He hadn't even scolded you; he knew you were already frustrated enough at yourself. He just bought you ice cream and smiled at you, telling you he was glad you were okay. Then there was that time Kafka chased off the neighborhood bully when he made fun of your pigtails; even though Kafka reassured you that you looked adorable with pigtails, he still spent all night learning how to braid your hair because you insisted you'd never wear pigtails ever again. He was always saving you, and here he was again- your hero.

It didn't matter that he was in a form you didn't recognize. You knew it was him. You'd know his heart anywhere. And even with fangs, his smile still comforted you, let you know everything would be okay.

He made quick work of the Yoju that was pursuing your friends and you were finally able to exhale the air that had been trapped in your lungs. He even carried them to the doors of the school infirmary for you when they'd passed out from the shock.

When you were sure your friends would be okay, you took Kafka to a secluded area behind the school where no one would be watching. Before he could even fully transform back into himself, you had already jumped into his arms. You hugged him with the force of a thousand hugs to make up for all the times you'd wanted to find refuge in his arms, but instead pushed him away, pushed him to work.

"I'm so glad you're okay." He ruffled your hair as he held you close. You always loved him ruffling your hair. You used to scold him for messing your hair up, but secretly, you always wanted him to do it again.

Suddenly, being in his arms again, you didn't care about his "destiny," or whatever great future you had envisioned for him. You just wanted your brother back, and for now, you had him. You could be as weak and as worried as you wanted, and he'd be there for you. He'd hold you until you stopped shaking, and then hold you a little longer just for good measure. Just because he missed you and he liked holding you.

You finally looked up at him, tears pooled in the corners of your eyes. "Do you think it's okay... if I ask you for more? If I rely on you more? Can I... can I need you again?"

He smiled that same smile he always did, his wide grin overflowing with love for you. "You can always count on me. Ask anything you want of me. Need me as much as you like for as long as you like. I promise, I'll be there for you."

He was always saving you.

But maybe, finally, it was okay to let yourself be saved.

#kaiju no. 8 #anime #fluff #kafka hibino #kafka #oneshot #siblings

52 notes · View notes

hobie-enthusiast · 1 year

Text

FATES AND CANONS !

— hobie brown x gn!reader

— hobie brown and his six canon events

— angst, fluff, comfort, no happy ending (kinda?), petnames, major character death (twice, including reader), pretty long fic, might go against some comic canons, anarchist reader, cutesy kisses

— let’s play spot the tv girl reference 😜 anyway sorry for the delay ive been traveling, got sick, and now school starts next week, woohoo. so enjoy this for a little :)

The first canon event Hobie Brown experienced was being bitten by a radioactive spider.

But of course, that much is known. It’s the origin of every Spider-person in every dimension. That story has been over-told.

The real stories come from the preceding canon events, one that though every Spider-person goes through, it’s story-worthy each time.

—

The second canon event Hobie Brown experienced was the death of his best friend.

This friend was someone so dear to him, one he met at his lowest times on the streets. They picked each other up, helped each other out, and always had each other's backs. His best friend had big dreams just like him; stop the corrupt system of the Prime Minister and uplift the voices of the minorities. And his way of doing that was joining the police force, working on the inside to break it down and show others that the government is corrupt. Hobie had a friend on the inside, and together, they were able to stage protests and riots that were completely unbothered by the troops, thanks to his friend’s rank as captain.

Until he got infected with Norman Osborn's toxicity.

Hobie didn't realize it was him. He was bringing down those pigs left and right with his soundwaves, fighting for his side. He thought that there was no way he was in this. He was stronger than that.

But then he finished them all, and when the black goo disintegrated from the bodies, he saw that all-too-familiar person.

Hobie Brown had killed his best friend.

He was quick to run to his side, hands trembling. "Shit mate.. 't wasn't supposed t' be you."

"Hobie..?" His friend questioned, only then laughing quietly. "Hmm.. shoulda known my best mate t'was the coolest super in the world."

Quickly, Hobie moves his friend to a secluded alleyway, where he can take his mask off. There, his friend can see the way tears prick the corners of Hobie’s eyes. No one ever really sees him cry. This was a sight, a sad one at that.

"'m so sorry.." Hobie whispers.

His friend shakes his head. “Don’t be. Ya did good.”

Despite those words, Hobie couldn’t help but feel deeply guilty. He was just trying to do good? Why did this happen?

He was Spider-punk. Wasn’t he supposed to be able to save everyone?

“Ya gotta keep doin’ this.”

Hobie’s thoughts were interrupted as his friend grabbed his arm, gaining his attention. He was way worse looking than a couple seconds ago. Blood pooled around his stomach. Hands stained red from coughing it up. He wasn’t going to make it. Hobie knew that.

“Not killin’ your best friend, obviously.” He laughs at his own joke weakly. “But fightin’ for the people. They need ya, Hobie.”

Hobie nods in understanding. He promised him he would. It was always easier to make a dying person such bold promises. But Hobie could never give up on helping the people.

Even as his best friend takes his final breath, Hobie swore to protect the innocent. Even if he can’t save everyone, he’ll try his hardest.

Because that’s what he promised his best friend.

—

The third canon event Hobie Brown experienced was meeting the love of his life.

It was post concert; spirits were high and everyone was dying to meet the lead guitarist. Hobie’s onstage presence was something to marvel at, one that everyone adored.

You were no exception. You noticed the way Hobie was seemingly getting lost in the music. He was so passionate about his music, about what he performed. You admired that, truly. Not many musicians nowadays care about having a good onstage presence. Even with a band.

Lucky for you, your good friend was the bassist for the band. He was the one who invited you tonight, who wanted you to meet the band. He came out from backstage after the show and lead you to the dressing room.

“Alright mates, this is [Name].” Your friend points out each band member, stating their names before realizing something. “Aye, where’s ‘obie?”

His band didn’t seem to know, but you just shrugged it off. Though, you couldn’t deny the small sliver of disappointment that came with not meeting him. Soon, you excused yourself to grab some water, exiting the room.

What you didn’t expect was to run into someone.

“Crap, my bad. Didn’t see you there!” You immediately apologize, glancing up at the stranger.

Except it wasn’t a stranger. It was Hobie Brown. “‘s alright, swee’heart. No hard feelin’s.”

Hobie, after the show, decided to grab something to drink. He played a good show at the pub, so he rightfully thought he deserved it. But people were getting irritating, being touchy and pushy. He didn’t really appreciate that, and soon went backstage to find his bandmates.

When walking down the way, he said hello to a couple of the crew members. They were always considerate, doing their job correctly. Surely they deserve at least a wave and a verbal confirmation Hobie saw them.

Then, his spider-sense started tingling. Glancing around, he was quick to realize there was no true threat. But then he ran into you, and time seemingly stopped.

At the time, Hobie couldn’t describe the feeling of seeing you for the first time. It was like a part of him connected for the first time. You were a missing piece that he never knew he was even missing. But why did his senses go off for you?

“Actually, you’re Hobie, right?” You question, pointing up at him. “I’m a friend of the bassist in ‘ur band. It’s nice to meet you.”

Hobie muses. “Pleasure’s all mine, darlin’. C’mon, ‘ll take ya back t’ ‘em.”

The guitarist would be lying if he said he didn’t take you in the wrong direction for a little while. He wanted to get to know you more. And you weren’t complaining. Hobie was an incredibly charming guy.

The rest of the night was spent chatting with him. You couldn’t seem to leave him alone, and Hobie couldn’t keep his eyes off of you either. The two of you worked well together, and everyone in the band seemed to notice.

So Hobie slipped his number into your pocket, giving a kiss on your cheek. Bold, sure, but he had to make his move. Nobody has ever made him feel this way.

He can’t let you slip from his fingers.

—

The fourth canon event Hobie Brown experienced was giving up his mask.

Being Spider-punk was not everything Hobie cracked it out to be. He was constantly putting himself in danger, and you in the process. Everything was just so tiring. He couldn’t take it anymore.

He finally caught his breath after a confrontation, sliding down against the wall. He panted heavily, clutching tightly on his guitar. He barely made it out.

“Fuckin’ ‘ell..” He muttered, coughing and hacking.

Hobie Brown was tired of this. He stood up, taking off the parts of his suit that came undone. Searching for a nearby garbage, he found one. Then, Hobie simply shoved his suit into it messily.

Staring down at the bin, he slung his guitar on his back. Then he just.. walked from the alleyway, never taking a second glance back.

The walk back home to you was long, considering he didn’t swing there. But when he made it, he let himself into the door, placing his guitar on the table. His eyes caught you in his peripheral vision.

You glance from the counter, giving a smile. “Hey, Hobes! How was-” Your words fall short at the solemn expression he wore. “What happened?”

Your boyfriend stayed silent as he came up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. “Nothin’.. ‘s all done..”

“Done? What do you mean?”

He sighs, face in your shoulder. Should he even-?

Of course he should.

“I gave it up. ‘m done bein’ Spider-man. A symbol.. or whateve’.”

You turn your body to face him, taking his hands to analyze him. You frown, eyes narrowing as he just stares down. When was the last time you saw Hobie so.. defeated?

Then, a sigh. “Hobes.. listen..”

You move your hands to cup his face, lifting him to face you directly. His tired eyes meet yours, and you give a smile.

“You can’t give it up. This is your favourite thing to do for the people.. Being their voice. But it’s okay to take breaks.” You start, gently stroking his cheek. “‘s not selfish.. you’re trying to be the best for them. To fight for them. But you can’t do that if you’re so tired, my love..”

Hobie chuckles quietly, leaning his head on your shoulder. “Always the wise one..” Is all he mutters.

You muse, rubbing his back gently. “Let me take care of you tonight. Please.”

“…mmkay...”

And you surely took care of him. You cooked for him. You cleaned up his wounds. You cuddled with him in bed. Anything to help Hobie feel better from such a long day. Even then.. from such a long and tiring career.

Hobie is so incredibly thankful for everything you do. The way you’re so tender with him. The way you just seem to know what to do to help him. You’re so incredible to him.

So he whispers a simple ‘thank you, swee’heart’ to thank you, finally letting his body rest and recuperate to continue his work in the coming days.

—

The fifth canon event Hobie Brown experienced was kissing the love of his life upside down.

It was cheesy, as Hobie and you could describe it. But he had just taken down some more corrupt government, seeing victory shine in his eyes. On top of that, he previously asked you to marry him, and you saying yes only added to his wonderful day.

Of course, your shared idea of marriage was different. In short, he put one of his rings on yours to be the symbol. The two of you would spend a day together, forge a silly little paper to say your married, sneak it in the courts, and call it a day. The perfect wedding for the perfect anarchist couple.

After his successful take down, he swung to the neighborhood you two lived in. It was quaint, you both preferred it that way. Somewhat safer as well.

He heard you earlier say you had to head to the corner shoppe, so that’s where he went. He lied on the rooftop with a perfect view of the entrance. Then, all he had to do was sit, and wait to see your pretty face walk out.

When you did, he turned himself upside down to hang on the side of the building, calling out to you. “Back from a day’s work of corrup’ gover’ment take down.”

You glance down the alleyway the voice came from, an amused smile cornering your lips. You glance around before making your way towards Hobie. Gently placing down the groceries, you glance up at him.

“Hope all that blood and ego doesn’t rush to your head, hanging upside down like that.” You tease.

“Can’t help how cool I truly am.” He replies, lowering himself so that he’s now at your level, still upside down. “You seem t’ think so too. Wha’s that on ‘ur finger, hm?”

“Geez, this gonna be a regular thing?” You fake a groan, hands finding placement on Hobie’s cheeks.

“‘s like y’know me so well..”

You stare at your fiancé for a while, just admiring him. The way he seemingly gave no care to anyone who judged him. He lived so freely, teaching you how to follow after him. Hobie Brown was so magnificent.. and here he was, at your every whim.

Before you knew it, your fingers began taking off the lower bit of his mask. Rolling it up, to reveal his beautiful lips, lip piercing shining in contrast to his beautiful skin.

“Wha’s this for?” He questions, hands holding tightly onto your now dropped ones.

You smile. “Such a.. silly reason, I’m afraid.” You mutter, leaning into his body. “I just wanted to kiss you..”

Then you lean in, kissing Hobie gently. His lips immediately match yours, taking in the warmth you provide. The kiss is so loving.. so incredibly beautiful. It is your first engaged after all.

Even when you pull away, a smirk plays at his lips. He brings his hands up to cup your face, pulling you in for another long kiss. He just can’t ever get enough of you.

Hobie never did believe in canon events. Of course he’s experienced so many with you now. But he can’t help but still keep his belief away from the idea. Because that could lead to your demise.

And Hobie will be damned if you die on him.

—

The sixth canon event Hobie Brown experienced was losing the best thing to ever happen to him.

It was a protest gone wrong. You both agreed to march the front lines, to protest for a better living wage for the lower class. Something the two of you have been fighting for for months on end.

Government never liked protests.

Of course, they sent their force to shut it down. To “stop any future damage”. But that was only a front. The pigs sent down actually stormed the crowd of protesters, putting their hands on anyone they could find.

Hobie quickly took on his Spider-punk role, defeating anyone he can before it happened. He saved a ton of lives, swiping them away from the police before webbing the bad guys to buildings. Things were going good for him. Until the explosion.

He just landed on a building to try and observe who still needed help. His eyes caught you shoving down a cop onto the ground, and his smile under the mask grew. You glanced up at him, giving your own smile, and a wave.

Hobie was about to swoop down to come grab you, but the cop got up, through his explosive to the ground. It rolled right next to your feet.

“Shit! [Name], watch-!”

But his words were too late. The explosion sent you flying into the side of a building, back thrown against it harshly. Almost everyone began scrambling after that, running from the scene. But not Spider-punk. He immediately made it to you, picking up your weak body.

His breathing picked up. “No.. no, ‘s not like this. Jus’, hang on.” He whispered over and over, swinging to a nearby rooftop.

You groan, already feeling the crimson liquid leak from your head and stomach. Everything was blurry, like a daze. Yet Hobie’s face was clear and recognizable. Even under his mask, he showed such obvious signs of worries, even regret.

Eventually, he drops his own body to the ground, yanking his mask off. His hands immediately hold your again.

“Damn.. just like.. that, hm?” You managed, body already showing the signs of shutting down. “Hurts, y’know?”

“Don’’ you dare give up on me.” Hobie muttered, ripping off the sleeve to his suit. “‘s all gonna be fine.”

You laugh weakly, head thrown back. “Dunno if I’ve got a choice, Hobes..”

With careful fingers, Hobie ties his sleeve around the wound. He didn’t want to hurt you more, but the bleeding had to stop before getting any worse. A small part of him knew it was hopeless. Futile, even. He was almost back in the beginning. When he was barely starting out in his duties, and he failed to save his good friend. Now he failed to save you. Here you were, dying in his arms.

Hobie took a deep breath. “Ya can’t.. swee’heart, c’mon..”

“Don’t be sad, Hobes..” You whisper, hand finding his cheek. “I wanna see you smile..”

Of course you would request that, only you. He gives such a weak laugh, one that brings the best smile he can manage. But it quickly turns back to sadness.

Then, a smile graces your face. “God.. I love that smile..” You whisper, coughing weakly. Blood seeps through the cloth on your stomach. You were losing it.

“‘m gonna miss ya, swee’heart.. s’much..” Hobie says, tears falling from his eyes.

“I know, Hobes.”

Hobie doesn’t remember the last time he let himself cry like this. Maybe when he was a kid? When his best friend died? Who knows. But now, now his tears wouldn’t stop flowing, nose sniffing over and over again.

Why can’t you just stay?

“I have’ta go..” You say sadly, almost as if reading his thoughts. “Don’t you dare.. stop bein’ a hero, ya hear? I’ll rise just to smack you..” Were your next words, almost as if reprimanding him.

Once again, Hobie laughed his quiet laugh. “Well now I neve’ can.. Jus’ f’you..” He says in a whisper.

You feel your breathing start to fall short, coughing and hacking. Hobie holds you tighter, whispers of “I love you” and “I’ll miss you” exchanged over and over.

“I love you.. Hobie Brown..” Were your last words. “My Spider-punk..”

And then.. you were gone. Just like that.

—

“Hobie? Hobie!”

Gwen had to call out to him a mere three times before he came back to. His eyes shut and opened as he remembers where he was. Right, Spider-society. Gwen and him were walking and chatting.

“Righ’, sorry Gwendy.”

Gwen waves it off. “Don’t even worry. Anyways, I heard about a couple new recruits.”

Hobie listened to his younger friend talk and talk, but his mind was elsewhere. Today was a particularly.. memorable day. He just couldn’t seem to get you out of his head. Normally Hobie wouldn’t complain.. but he misses you.

His thoughts circle him too much, and next thing he knows, he bumped into another Spider-totem.

“Crap, my bad. Didn’t see you there!”

…what?

Hobie knows that voice. Of course he does. He glances down at the stranger, finally seeing the face he missed so much. The face his nights yearned to see again. The face he missed screaming and supporting him at his concerts. The face of you.

“…uhm, are you okay? Oh my god I didn’t hit you that hard, did I?”

Gwen glanced back from her spot, noticing the scene occurring. Her eyes widen. Oh no..

She immediately walks to the two of you, chuckling awkwardly. “Hey! So sorry, he’s in a little daze today! C’mon Hobie!”

You glance up at the guy again, finally getting a good look at him. But he’s just staring. His eyes are seemingly.. longing. They’re lonely, that much you can tell. He has a demeanor about him.. one that reminds you of someone. Even his face looks familiar.. wait!

“What a coincidence!” You suddenly say. “My boyfriend’s name is Hobie! From my dimension at least.”

Hobie finally snapped from his trance, your words reaching his ears. “How.. coinciden’al..” He whispers.

“Well.. it was nice to meet you, Hobie.” You smile, offering out a hand for him to shake. “Hope t’ see ya around!”

He shakes your hand and.. oh does the contact feel so good. But he doesn’t linger. Hobie simply watches you walk off, that same cheerful demeanor reflecting in your every step.

Of course it felt like you got away again. And he had almost no doubt that the Hobie you love so dear will meet a demise. But he’ll stick with you. Stick with being your friend and being there when you need him.

Because Hobie would walk through this pain a thousand times if it meant you were in his life again.

#NEW ARTICLE || OUT NOW !!#hobie brown x reader #hobie x reader #hobie brown #spider man: across the spider verse #across the spiderverse #atsv #atsv x reader #atsv hobie

318 notes · View notes

silent-browser · 1 year

Text

Reformatting this bitch like a head cannon!!!

Oh boy. I adding to the werewolf post cuz I wanna. Part 1

Quick recap. You have partner/boyfriend. Partner out of town. You try to surprise partner. Partner/wolf surprises you instead. Not that you know the huge wolf is him.

The next morning is arguably more confusing than the night before as you wake up to your "out of town" boyfriend in the bed with you, asleep and looking very self satisfied.

Asleep until you hit them with a pillow and start interrogating him on how the heck he got in and where the big fuck-you wolf disappeared to

Welp, the cat- or I suppose wolf is out of the bag and they had some explaining to do

They are at least glad that the wolf in them approves of their choice in partner.

They explain everything.

How they came to be like this (attacked on a mountain trail while hiking)

Why they have been hiding themselves away every full moon (transform in peace and to keep others safe)

That they are either asleep or just not at the proverbial wheel when they turn (it's all instinct and the long slumbering beast when they turn. Full moonlight wakes it up they suppose)

You honestly think they are lying at first

A joke surely

A humorous ruse to avoid you finding out that they have an illegal pet wolf

But the look on their face... That apologetic and scared look. The look they have every single time you find them following you around

The guilty look

You ask instead "Why didn't the wolf rip me to shreds? You said that you have to stay away from people when you turn to avoid hurting anyone. Why didn't it hurt me?"

They honestly don't know. Maybe something to do with their scent just naturally being on you and that told the wolf that you were not to be hurt

You both stay in bed for a while after, just talking about the experience and what it means for your future together

He's so scared you would leave him. That you would scream and run for the hills

He doesn't know what he would do without you normally but after that night, he felt different in some way

As if he would crumble if you said you didn't want him anymore

As if the wolf would overtake him completely if you said you were leaving for good

As if he would die without you

The thought and realization shook him to his core

Yes... He would die without you. You are his life line. His air. His sanity. If you left he might just crumble away and die. Leaving behind only a husk of a human being for the wolf to take over

You suddenly interrupt his dark spiral when you suddenly remember the entire reason you came last night

You hop out of bed and quickly grab the food you brought over and had an impromptu breakfast in bed party

"I would never leave you" you told them while holding their hand

And they melted

You joke about wishing you knew sooner and how late night dates will have to be more carefully planned out now but they just stared at your face with all of the love in the world radiating from them

Now that the aftermath is done...

DOMESTIC THINGS AND FUTURE TURNS!

They admit that they like being pet, even when they are themselves so a common thing for the both of you to do is movie night cuddles and head pats

You both cook meat more than before. It's to the point where the local butcher knows the both of you by name (sorry vegans but this is a werewolf fic so meat eating is gonna happen)

Because they are accepting the wolf in them a little easier they have become a little more territorial

Unknown people on their doorstep make them uneasy and they can often come off as cold and rude to delivery people when they stop by (Door to door missionaries get growled at)

You know better now and avoid their place the next time the full moon comes around. You are respecting their space. They have a quiet house to spend time in. Everything is fine right?

WRONG

Wolfie is pissed

He wants his human in his nest again gosh darn it!

He made it all pretty and everything too

He spends his entire night trying to escape

Clawing at door ways and window frames

Ramming his body into doors

Howling as loud as he can go, hoping to attract you back to his den. Letting you know that he is here and ready to snuggle again

When boyfriend wakes back up his entire house is destroyed.

Picture frames knocked off walls, doors clawed to shit, three windows broken and some noise complaints from his neighbors in his messages

What the heck happened last night!?

Wolf has never done this before so why now!?

It only gets worse every full moon after

Until wolf finally gets out

Adrenaline and desperation runs his mind when he gets out

He has to find you. He has to

Continuation in the future???? Was this even a good continuation of the first post??? Big shrugs all around.

@samuelftm Here ya go hun. I hope you like it.

#soft yandere #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere monster #yandere werewolf #werewolf x reader #werewolf #soft yandere werewolf #soft yandere > regular yandere #I agree whoever created that tag #might have been me actually #im trying to get better at this

357 notes · View notes

scarletwinterxx · 1 year

Text

loving you is easy - mark lee imagine

hiiiii, 127 cb i have been summoned😅 for the past few weeks i've been inactive on all socmeds, sorry for the very few and slow posts. anyways, let's talk Fact Check haha what's your fave track? i think mine's Parade. the vocals in that one is soooo good.

So yeah i hope you like this one, i'll be back when I can💛🌻

if you have a request or scenario you want me to do, just send me a message I'll see what I can do😊💌

For my other works you can check them out here, and for my other story series’ you can check them out here.

(gif not mine, credits to rightful owner)

"It's one plane ride away, I'll be there in 3 months"

"That's 3 months too long" he grumbles, still pouting as he zips the last of his luggage. Mark hated being away for you, too many days and nights your time zone's don't line up. By the time it's morning for you, he'll be saying goodnight.

But now, things are about to change. This will be the last time you're saying goodbye to him for a long time but he doesn't know that. For now it's your little secret.

"It'll fly by fast, just like every other time. Now come here and give me cuddles, stop pouting like a kid" you tease him, opening your arms to welcome him.

Feeling his arms go around you, you further confirmed a fact you've known for years. The two of you can be continents away from each other, but your heart will always stay with one another. Mark really has become your home and in his arms are where you feel the safest and most loved.

"If you're sad then it's gonna make me sad, I don't want the last night to be all tears" you tell him, feeling his embrace tighten against you. He kisses the top of your head a few times before letting you go.

"You're right, sorry. No more sulking, it's just 3 months then you'll come to me" he smiles at you, the cute little dimple you love so much appearing on his cheek. You stand on your tiptoe to kiss it, savoring the warmth of him against your lips.

And you were right, the 3 months did fly by fast. Mainly because you were busy packing your apartment to move to another continent. You didn't keep much apart from your stuff and some of Mark's. It's kind of hard to travel with everything so you got rid of what you can.

The only person who knew you were coming was Johnny, who is currently waiting for you at the airport. Easily spotting the 6 foot Chicago guy from a distance.

"There she is! About time you got here, I don't think I can take another day of Mark whining about how much he misses you" he jokes, giving you a quick hug and taking your stuff to carry it himself.

"He doesn't know I'm coming, I'm suppose to fly out this weekend" you tell him while following behind

"Oh believe me I know, he won't let us forget"

You chuckle at his story, just thinking about surprising Mark makes you grin.

He dropped you off at Mark's apartment, you're familiar with the place since you've stayed here every time you fly over. What he doesn't know is you're here to stay with him for good.

It did took a lot of courage to make this decision but you didn't doubt it for a second. You know there's no other place you'd rather call home than where he is.

For a couple of hours you rested, cleaned the few dishes on the sink and picked up the towel he threw on the floor. A habit you knew he had, you've had that talk with him more than a few times and he always promises he won't do it again. You let him off the hook, for now.

You were in the bedroom when you hear someone by the door. Mark entered his place, tired from the whole day of work to notice the other pair of shoes by the door.

He threw his bag by the couch, along with his coat. He then walked to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water, resting against the counter while he drinks and take a moment to look around.

This time he notices the dishes he was suppose to do this morning was gone. He brushed it off thinking he must've just forgotten he already did it. He then walked to the bedroom, the first thing he noticed was the towel that he definitely threw by the bed this morning. He remembers it because he's been thinking about it all day and how you'll be mad if you found out he threw it on the floor yet again.

He looks around, checking to see anything missing or different just in case someone broke in. But who would clean up if they're here to steal, he thoughts.

Mark then walks towards the bathroom to check, nothing there too so he walks back the bedroom. Just when he was about to go outside, you jumped out of your hiding spot to surprise him

"SURPRISE!"

"WHAT THE F- OH MY GOD WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE" you didn't even get the chance to walk towards him because he's already running to you. Picking you up in an embrace.

"Is this for real or am I dreaming?" you hear him mumble

You giggle, patting him on the back so he could put you down. "This is real silly. I'm really here" you tell him.

He grabs you by the face and kisses you. As his lips lands on yours, he knew this was really real. You're actually here with him.

You can feel him smile against your lips, tilting your head to the side to kiss him deeper. Too many days wish he was with you, now he's here and you're not going to let go that easily.

He walks backwards until the back of his legs hit the bed. Landing on it gently with you still in his arms. You straddle his legs while the two of you get lost in each others kisses.

"Okay okay wait a sec" you giggle, pushing your lover away gently. Mark follows your lips though, kissing you a few more times before he lets you go but not too far.

"When did you get here?" he asks you

"Today, Johnny picked me up at the airport so I could surprise you" you tell him, your hands intertwine around his shoulders.

"I could've come and pick you up" he pouts.

Oh your sweet sweet boy.

You smile at him, rubbing your nose against his. Feeling like you're on cloud nine now that you're back together.

"Then it wouldn't be a surprise" you tell him, speaking of surprise you can't wait to see his reaction once you tell him your news.

"How long are you staying? I can take a few days off so we can go out" he tells you excitedly.

For you he would do just about anything. He can put his world on pause, stop everything for you.

"About that..."

"What? You can't stay that long?" he asks, already feeling sad but he tries not to let you see it.

"Actually, I'm not gonna go back" you tell him, not sure how to break the news to him either

"Huh?"

"Surprise number 2 I guess, I wanted to tell you for months now but I waited until everything is settled. So yeah. I'm here to stay, that is if you're looking for a roommate?" you ask

Mark didn't say anything for a couple of seconds, your words still processing in his mind.

"You mean you're staying here, with me ? Here? and you're not going to fly back? You're staying with me?"

You can't help but laugh lightly at him, pulling him closer once again to kiss him

"I'm gonna stay right here" you whisper, looking straight into his eyes.

"But what about your work? your friends? I can't ask you to leave your life there"

"Baby you're not asking me, I want to. I have friends here too, I can call my friends there and we can visit them. Plus you're my bestfriend. As for work, it just so happened they were looking for someone to relocate here to Korea. It was like fate wanted me to be here"

"Are you sure? I don't want you to give up everything, I don't mind the flights-"

"You do, I do. We both do. We just never said it outloud because we didn't want to be sad, but all I can think of when you're not around is how much I want to be with you. To be honest it's harder for me to be there than moving here where I know I could be with you"

He looks at you, trying to find the words to say

"Are you really really sure?" he asks again

"I wouldn't be here if it wasn't. So you're stuck with me, for good" you tease a smile out of him

"It's hard for me too. It's the hardest when I'm so tired and I come back here and all I can think of is how much I want to come home to you. Every flight away from you was never easy"

"I know"

"So I guess this is your anniversary present?" he jokingly asks, you get off of his lap to stand up.

"It'll be hard to top this one" you joke

"I can just ask you to marry me" he says ever so casually, not missing how your cheeks reddened. You hit him lightly making your boyfriend laugh

"Hey, that's not fair"

"You're the one who's stuck me, you know I'm never letting you go now?"

"Good, cause I'm not going anywhere. Here's to 7 more years"

He smile at you before standing up to hug you again,

As you stare at each other eyes you can't help but feel this warm sensation in your chest. You really are home.

"I read somewhere that our cells change every 7 years or so" you mumble, he hums waiting for you to continue

"It's been 7 years since we first met, and until now I still feel the same way about you. I want every cell in my body to know what it feels like to love you, I want it to never forget how warm and lovely it feels it be in love with you. 7 years from now, 14 years and until the last cycle of this life, I want all of me to love all of you"

He stares at you, soaking each word coming out of your lips like a spell enchanting him. Making him fall even deeper in love with you.

"You know they say love isn't easy, but loving you is easy. It's like it's the only thing my heart and soul was made for. Every thought in my head, awake or even in my dreams, is always you" he tells you.

You can feel the tears starting to build up from too much happiness you're feeling right now.

"Wanna hear something crazy?" you mumble

"Do tell" he chuckles

"If you ask me to marry you right now, I'd say yes"

He smiles at you before closing the distance once again, like he just sealed a promise. Speaking a silent vow to make that come true, maybe tonight or tomorrow or 7 days/months from now. All he knows is he will live this life with you.

201 notes · View notes

honey-comb-xox · 7 months

Text

Greened out

Nick Sturniolo x male!stoner!reader

Warnings: Weed, greening out, throwing up, peer pressure, driving while high (don't do that brothers!! Be safe!) - sorry if i missed anything pls lmk if I did!!

A/n: y’all be gentle w this one it’s my first actual writing that isn’t a joke 😭

Summary: y/n greens-out 😶‍🌫️

Y/n sighed as he leaned further back in the lawn chair he found himself in about 3 hours ago. The hot summer air in L.A. was completely different then what he was used to in New York, for some reason it just made blunts hit 10x better.

“Dude you gonna hog that shit or fuckin pass it”

Y/n snaps out of his daze and keeps the smoke circle going, it had been a stressful day. The majority of his day so far has been spent running errands, bringing Nick back and forth to the post office for Space Camp orders, and making sure the Triplets didn’t starve while signing cards for their 6 mil merch drop. It doesn’t sound like a whole lot, but it was definitely draining. Hence the predicament he’s in now.

“Bruh I got one more blunt! Who’s up for a third?”

“Nah man i’m good i gotta drive back to Nicks soon”

“Dude look it’s skinny as shit you’ll be fine, unless you’re pussy”

“Seriously man, i’m not falling for your shit right now”

Y/n did in fact fall for his shit again. Which has led him to his current predicament of how the hell he was supposed to get home, if this was any other area in town then he’d just leave his car. But of course it wasn’t and on top of all that there was not a single sober person he trusted to drive his car to Nicks. There’s really only one option…

“Alright guys I think imma head out” Y/n groaned while stretching up

“Be careful driving back man!”

Y/n sighs as he starts his car preparing for a long ride back home.

~Timeskip~

Y/n stumbles out of his car while trudging up to the front door. After messing with his keys for a few minutes he finally finds the key Nick gifted him a couple of weeks back.

“Nick! I’m back!” Y/n exclaimed

“Hey! Matt and Chris just went out to get dinner. Did you eat?” Nick says going in for a hug.

“Nah I just got back from Jetts place”

“Yeah I can tell. How much did you guys smoke?” Nick coughs from the stench of weed radiating of off Y/n

“I don’t know…like three, 2 ½ blunts” Y/n responds nonchalantly

“THREE? Please don’t tell me you drove back here right after”

“Well I didn’t really have a choice. I couldn’t just leave my car there” At this point that ‘mini’ blunt is starting to hit a lot more than Y/n expected it to. Nick keeps rambling on, but this all goes through one ear and out the other because now it’s either he focuses on what Nicks saying or not throwing up.

“Are you even listening to me right now? You know what, whatever just tell me what you want from Canes so I can tell Matt and Chris”

“Nah I’m good I think, I actually gotta go to the bathroom real quick” Y/n paled. The thought of food was enough to send him over the edge.

Nick looks questionably at his boyfriend, but then brushes it off and rolls his eyes. The moment of silence is broken by groans from the bathroom.

“Babe you okay?” Nick hollers

Y/n doesn’t respond.

“Babe!” Nick shouts once again

Again no response. Nick runs to the bathroom to find his boyfriend curled up near the toilet.

“Oh my god! Babe are you okay?”

Y/n only groans in response. Nick sits down and rubs his back soothingly. Y/n goes to turn to Nick only to find the room rapidly spinning around him which only furthers his nausea. This carries on for another 5 minutes.

“Oh my god. I’m never smoking weed again” Y/n whines while slumping against Nick

“Yeah right, I’m gonna go grab you some water and your toothbrush from my room” Nick laughs

Y/n nods, while adjusting his position to lay on the cold tile .

“Aww poor baby” Nick says smugly

“Oh shush” Y/n says as he sits up against the bathtub

“Seriously though, are you okay?”

“Yea, I mean I’m still a little dizzy but the nausea is gone” Y/n yawns as he curls into Nick.

~Timeskip~

Chris runs up to the door without waiting for Matt.

“Dude seriously! Not even gonna grab the drinks or anything?” Matt hollers from the van.

“I getting the door for you, duh” Chris says meekly

Chris goes back to the van to grab the drinks from Matt, and holds the door for his brother.

“Nick!! We’re back! We got food for Y/n too!” Matt yells as he passes the stairs.

“Matt look at this” Chris whispers

Matt sets down the food on the counter, and heads over to Chris. The boys have their heads peeking into the bathroom only to find Nick and Y/n peacefully sleeping against the bathtub all snuggled up together.

“If they don’t wake up in like…thirty minutes then we’ll wake them up so their food doesn’t get too cold” Matt whispers to Chris

Then a sudden flash comes from Chris’ camera with the image of Nick holding Y/n in his arms sleepy glaring as his brothers.

A/n: okay how was that? Again please be kind it’s my first time writing smth like this but if you have any tips for me i’m definitely open to suggestions!!

#nick sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo x male reader #sturniolo triplets x reader #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #sturniolo triplets

100 notes · View notes

anotherstudtouse · 2 months

Text

Holiday Reunion

Summary: Your step-sister, Angela, doesn’t like the girl you brought over for the holidays.

Warnings: SMUT, sex between step-siblings, jealousy, sex with a fake cum-filled strap-on, cheating (well not really) (things aren’t exclusive with the girlfriend), breeding kink, choking, long story short it’s filthy and I’m fairly new to posting my writings so I’m not entirely sure what all needs a warning and what doesn’t yet

Being Angela’s step-sister is a relatively new situation, one the two of you are still having trouble accepting six months into it. It’s not that you dislike each other — Well, she might dislike you, but you certainly don’t dislike her.

In fact, you like her a little too much.

How could you not, though, right? Effortlessly funny, quick-witted, and gorgeous, Angela is a joy just to be around. The first few weeks you’d known her — the weeks leading up to the wedding between her father and your mother — had been more than enough have you infatuated with her, and for a while you two got along amazingly. Sometimes, in your rare moments alone together, it almost felt as though Angela felt the same way you did.

The night of the wedding, however, changed everything, and unfortunately you were too drunk that night to remember what happened. You’ve tried to apologize more than once, and even though Angela’s always told you that you have nothing to be sorry for, it still feels so tense every time you’re in a room together. Six months in, you’ve decided to just count yourself lucky you’re adults and don’t have to live with each other, or else things might’ve gotten far too awkward.

Like tonight. Tonight, you’re at your mom’s house — Well, you suppose it’s Angela’s dad’s house, too. It’s the few days between Christmas Eve and New Year’s Eve and both your mother and Angela’s father have separately convinced the two of you to stay from Christmas Eve until January 2nd. You’d figured this would be the perfect opportunity to introduce your girlfriend of two months to your mom as well as have someone around to distract you from the tension between Angela and yourself. Even though things aren’t serious between you two and you weren’t even exclusive yet, she’d agreed. It had been, in your head, a wonderful idea!

But now you’re here, sitting on the living room sofa, playing some ‘get to know you’ game that Angela’s father had proposed where you pull a card with a question about yourself and people in the room try to answer it for you, and Angela, who’s already been not only friendly but also somewhat touchy (a lingering hug as she greeted you at the beginning of the night, two hands brushing against your shoulders and arms as she stepped into your space and slipped your jacket off, a hand on your forearm as she laughed at a stupid joke you told – not that you’re keeping track or anything) toward you tonight, has answered every question about yourself correctly. She knows your favorite color, your deepest fear, your dreams for the future, the weirdest dream you’ve ever had — Things you’d casually mentioned in the past that you never would’ve expected her to actually have been paying attention to.

Even worse, she corrects Theresa, your girlfriend, when the poor girl gets anything about you wrong. You don’t hold it against Theresa at all — you’ve only been dating for two months, after all — but it feels like Angela does. You’ve never seen your step-sister like this — smug, competitive — and she’s never made so much eye contact with you before, usually looking at anything other than you.

Oh, god. It’s your turn again.

Leaning forward, you draw a card from the deck with your free hand, your other hand grasping Theresa’s in reassurance. You can tell she feels bad that she doesn’t know you as well as Angela obviously thinks she should.

“Do I ever want to have children?” You read off the card.

Theresa perks up, and you glance anxiously at Angela before your eyes finally land on your girlfriend beside you. “Oh, we’ve talked about this one! No, you don’t.”

“She’s right,” your mom agrees, sending Theresa an encouraging smile. “I came to terms with having no grandchildren a long time ago.” Angela’s father gives a little chuckle at that, and you roll your eyes with a smile.

“Yeah, you do,” Angela interjects, eyes on you. Her eyes have been on you all night. “You told me you do. At your mom’s and my dad’s wedding.”

You freeze, blinking, the tips of your ears beginning to feel especially warm. You don’t remember that. You must’ve told her that while you were drunk. You don’t tell anyone that; it’s not a serious goal of yours, more of a… well, more of a kink. You want to be bred. It’s not exactly something you tell everyone, or even a girlfriend of only two months. You told Angela that?

You can see in her eyes that that’s exactly what she means, too. It’s as if time has stopped for a moment, Angela’s words hanging in the air, heavy and impossible to ignore. She doesn’t look disgusted with the information, but that must be why things changed so drastically after that night. What the hell happened?

A laugh that you hope doesn’t sound as nervous as you feel escapes you, and you shrug. “I mean, I thought maybe I could change my mind for the right person, but honestly, probably not.” You shoot a playful glance toward your mom. “Don’t get your hopes up.”

As everyone chuckles and moves on, you exhale a relieved sigh, sending a reassuring smile Theresa’s way. Weirdness averted.

You can’t get rid of the feeling deep in your gut, though, that Angela knows. She knows how you feel about her, feelings you’ve been trying to push down for months only for them to resurface all at once as your eyes meet hers again. She takes a sip of her drink, throat bobbing as she swallows, and she never breaks eye contact once.

“Uh, it’s, um— It’s getting kind of late, and we woke up early this morning, so Theresa and I are gonna head to bed if that’s okay.” You’re already standing when your mom and Angela’s dad excuse you, and though Theresa furrow her brows at you, she doesn’t say anything about the sudden stutter.

As you begin to lead your girlfriend toward the stairs, you hear Angela speak up again behind you. “Sweet dreams, Y/N.” Something about the way she says it makes your throat go dry.

——

The digital alarm clock beside the bed in this guest room reads 1:44am. You blink slowly, eyelids still heavy from sleep. You’ve already kicked the blanket off yourself, leaving it pooled mostly on top of Theresa. It’s too hot in here. You’d be lying if you said that’s the reason you’re having so much trouble sleeping, though; the heat is a symptom of something that’s not going to be cured as long as you stay in this bed.

Quietly, you slip out of bed. You contemplate for a moment putting on some pants but the walk down the hallway to the bathroom isn’t very far and everyone’s asleep — Your tank top and underwear will do. Keeping your eyes on your girlfriend in an effort to make sure she doesn’t stir, you exit the room as silently as possible and make your way to the unoccupied bathroom.

In your hurry to get inside, you close the door a little too loudly. You only spare a second to cringe inwardly before you’re leaning back against the sink, recalling every interaction you’ve had with your step-sister tonight. The looks, the touches, the words – They’re seared into your brain. Maybe you’re reading too much into things but it’s driving you crazy and you need relief now. One hand gripping the sink, your other hand descends from your abdomen to the waistband of your underwear.

You shouldn’t be doing this. You’ve moved on – You have a girlfriend in bed just down the hall, and here you are, about to touch yourself to thoughts of your step-sister. You should go back to bed. You need to go back to bed.

That’s the last thought you have before your fingers dip underneath your waistband to slip between already slick folds. The feeling has you biting your lip in an effort to keep yourself from moaning, and your eyes flutter shut to replace images of this bathroom with prettier images of Angela on her knees. Your breathing is getting heavier now, fingers rubbing tight circles around your swollen clit, and god it’s good, it’s so good, it’s—

The sound of the door that you’d stupidly forgotten to lock creaking open has your eyes snapping open in shock and embarrassment, and as you make eye contact for what feels like the thousandth time tonight with Angela, you freeze. She’s in a pair of obscenely short pajama shorts and a t-shirt and seems just as surprised to see you. You can see the realization slowly dawning on her as her gaze travels lower and lower, finally stopping on the hand still between your thighs.

Fuck.

Mortified, you begin to pull your hand out of your underwear when Angela’s shoots out to grasp your wrist, effectively halting your movements. Her eyes are darker than you’ve ever seen them, and your heart is pounding in your chest.

“Is this for her?” Her voice comes out hushed. It would’ve been difficult to hear her if she hadn’t just stepped into your personal space. You part your lips to try to lie but she doesn’t give you time to. “It isn’t, is it? If it were, you’d still be in your room.”

Her grip on your wrist is tight, and the way she’s speaking to and looking at you tells you she already has you figured out; she’s just waiting for you to say it. You lick your lips, eyes darting down to Angela’s then back to her eyes – those dark, beautiful, intense eyes.

“… No,” you finally respond. As you speak, Angela releases her hold on your wrist only to slip her hand underneath your waistband, covering your hand with her own and causing you to suck in a shaky breath.

She steps closer, eyes flitting between yours as if searching for something in them. “Who’s it for, then?” Her fingers press into yours, forcing more pressure against your throbbing clit. You suppress a whine; Angela’s eyes light up at the muffled sound.

You shouldn’t be doing this. You need to go back to your room and forget any of this ever happened. You shouldn’t be doing this. She’s your step-sister.

Fuck it.

“You.” Your voice is raw with need. You need Angela, and you’re certain that even if she can’t hear it in your voice, she can see it in your eyes, she can feel it in the way your hips push slightly into your joined hands. You barely get that single syllable out before she’s crashing her lips into yours, her free hand snaking up to tangle in your hair while her hand in your pants tugs your hand out and sets it on the edge of the sink.

You kiss her back with just as much urgency. Her hand tugs the bottom of your tank top up over your breasts before groping one until your nipple is hardening underneath her palm. You gasp at the feeling, and Angela takes that opportunity to slip her tongue past your parted lips. As your back arches into her hand, she breaks the kiss, panting. “I haven’t stopped thinking about you since that night,” she husks before beginning a trail of open-mouthed kisses along your jawline. She doesn’t have to specify in order for you to know she’s talking about the wedding night. “I know you don’t remember – You kissed me.” She’s kissing her way down your neck now, stopping to nip at your pulse point, both hands on your breasts now. “I kissed you back. Hell, I almost fucked you right then and there when you told me you wanted to know how it felt for me to cum inside you.” She pinches your nipples between her fingers, pulling a whimper from your throat. “You said you didn’t even care if it were possible for me to get you pregnant. You’d still take it.” She pulls away just long enough to pull your tank top off and toss it to the ground somewhere before she’s on you again, kissing her way down your chest. “But you were so drunk, and I couldn’t stop thinking about how your mom had just married my dad.”

The pieces are all falling into place now. You hadn’t been reading too much into anything; Angela needs you just as much as you need her, and it doesn’t matter anymore what obstacles are in your way. She’s going to take you, and you’re going to let her.

“Seeing you with her was too much.” She wraps her lips around your nipple and you groan, your knuckles turning white as you grip the edge of the sink. “You’re mine, not hers.” As she pulls away, she adds, “Now turn around.”

Obediently, you turn to face the sink, making eye contact with Angela’s reflection in the mirror. “Good girl,” she praises, pressing into you from behind. It’s only then that you feel something hard pressing against your cunt, and as she tugs your underwear to the side with one hand and pulls down her shorts with the other, she leans into you, slowly lining up her strap-on with your soaking wet entrance.

“Oh god,” you moan, pressing back into Angela. She pushes inside you slowly, giving you time to adjust to the thickness of it as she buries herself inside you inch by inch. “Please, Angela – More.”

“Fuck, you’re tight,” Angela groans, pushing deeper and deeper until she’s buried completely inside you. “And so fucking wet – Fuck yes, take it all.” Slowly, she pulls out before thrusting inside you again – hard. The slow pace she sets doesn’t last long before she’s picking up speed, slamming her hips into yours and causing your own hips to slam into the sink over and over.

You bite your lip, trying to muffle your whimpers and moans, and as your eyes flutter shut, Angela tugs your head back by the hair until you’re looking at her in the mirror again. “Eyes open, baby. I don’t want you to miss a single second of me taking what’s mine. Got it?”

You nod, watching your breasts bounce from the force of Angela’s thrusts, watching as Angela’s hand leaves your hair to wrap around your throat instead while she digs her nails into your hip with her other hand. “I’m yours – I’m all yours. I always have been,” you moan, desperation evident in the tone of your voice.

Angela groans, her strap covered in your juices as she practically pounds you into the sink. Your moans grow louder until your step-sister covers your mouth with her hand. “Be quiet – Unless you want your girlfriend to come looking for you only to find you cumming on your step-sister’s cock.”

The whine that escapes you is muffled, your walls squeezing around Angela’s strap. Your hand reaches up to rest on the back of Angela’s head, pulling face into your neck. As she kisses your neck, your hand curls into a fist around her hair, tugging it slightly and causing Angela to groan into your neck. You never want this to end, but you can feel yourself getting closer and closer to your orgasm as you hear Angela moaning as she begins to suck a mark onto your neck.

“I’ve been so fucking pent up all day,” Angela groans, breathless. “I’m gonna do what I should’ve done a long time ago.” She’s slamming into you now, hard and fast, her strap deeper inside you than anyone’s ever been before. “I’m gonna breed you and you’re gonna take it.”

You’re pretty sure she’s just saying that to push you closer to the edge, but when her hips slam one last time into you before stilling, you actually feel her flooding you with cum. With the realization that she’s wearing a strap-on filled with fake cum just so she can cum inside you, you’re pushed over the edge yourself, your walls squeezing and spasming around Angela’s cock. You tug on her hair harder, pulling a deep groan from Angela’s throat as she slowly fucks her cum into you.

“You’re mine now,” she moans, her pace slowing more and more as the two of you come down from your highs. She takes her hand off your mouth, both hands now gripping your hips.

With a breathless laugh, you make eye contact with her in the mirror, your hand releasing its hold on her hair and lowering to rest on top of her hand on your hip. “I think you’ve made that clear.”

#angela giarratana x reader #angela giarratana smut

39 notes · View notes

daydream-believin · 9 months

Text

a real stand up guy ba dum tss

summary: you get stood up by an internet man. douxie, your waiter and secret admirer, remedies that jackass’s mistake.

warnings: uh. swearing, alcohol, i’m too lazy to proof, the yooj. oh and doux doesn’t know how to handle this crush without getting slightly into stalker territory sorry. its a red flag but i think its cute. you may not think its cute.

a/n: tumblr was glitching while i tried to post this so idk how many paragraphs i accidentally erased. i mean i tried my best to make that number 0. but anyways if something is off let me know. the challenge for this one is that im not allowed to use italics. which you should know was very hard for me agshjfkgjdjh

taglist: @moppetwithamanbun @alovesongshewrote @blixeon @prismarts @fantasyiswaybetterthanreality @ukuleles-and-roses

okay quick psa i know it’s been years so if you want off the taglist just hmu. also if you were on the taglist and got taken off thats bc tumblr says you don’t exist anymore

uh this was a request. i’m not doing requests tho dont think that. looking back yeah that ask if from march 2022 and this doesn’t even match up to what you asked 😂 im so sorry @rose-writes-shit

you took a peek at your watch. 7:34 o’ clock. letting your head fall into the open palm of your propped up hand, you sighed.

coffee meets bagel boy was supposed to have met you at 7:00.

of fucking course. you let your plucky pink-haired coworker convince you to download a fucking dating app and make a profile, just for the only guy who had actually been interested enough in you to ask you on a real date to stand you up. makes sense.

it’s not like you’ve ever had luck with these kind of things. it’s not like you’ve ever had luck period. your kind might be the black cat of humans.

you’ve spent way too long eating the free bread at a mr. benoit’s of all places. it was the “classiest” establishment in the certain suburban hellscape of california you inhabited, albeit. you took in the scenery for the millionth time that night with a renewed sense of disgust. at least now you had a legitimate reason to hate this place.

your waiter slinked over, and you could tell he felt bad for you with the awkward shuffling gait to the pity grimace on his face.

“so, uh, perhaps more bread?”

you rolled your face towards him, arbitrarily throwing animosity his way with your dead eyes, just because he was there. but soon your compulsive desire to be the funniest pathetic wretch in the room won out.

“i’m considering burning this whole place down right now, actually,” you joked.

he grit his teeth, sucking in a breath, “could i perhaps convince you to do that on a night i’m not closing, instead? tomorrow is my least favorite coworker’s turn, for your consideration,”

“hmm,” you pretended to think, “i’ll do that then, it’s only kind,”

“thank you for your generosity,” he grinned, “now, are you still waiting for someone or?”

douxie had been watching you for over half an hour now. not creepily. he swears. he just got a little excited when he saw you come into the restaurant is all.

anddd maybe he might have badgered the host into giving you one of his tables. but again, he was just excited. he’s been looking for an excuse to talk to you for the past three months, after all. forgive him for jumping on the opportunity.

he maybe fancied you. just a wee bit. perhaps a rather large bit. or at least, the version of you he’s cooked up in his head from the way he sees you interact with people at house parties and the things he’s heard from zoe.

but he’s sure he’ll love you. as soon as he gets to know who you actually are. which, hopefully, is about to be sooner rather than later.

he did not anticipate this situation, however. whatever benevolent deity blessed him on this night decided to throw a jar of pickled herring in with the otherwise yummy pastry filled gift basket they left for him.

not long after you arrived at 6:56 pm, not that he marked the time you came in or anything he just happened to glance at the clock around that time, he watched you, how they say, deflate. your demeanor shifted from antsy to sad to downright annoyed.

you were dressed nicely. not fancy, not pretending like this wasn’t a benoit’s. but nice. orderly. like you wanted to make a good impression on whoever it was you were expecting to meet. so either a date, or mayhaps a job interview.

not that you didn’t look nice or orderly on other days. you just weren’t in your hex tech uniform shirt. or in the incredibly casual clothes you wore when he saw you around. you were just. clearly cleaned-up, is all.

whoever it was, it was obvious that they were not coming. doux applauded you for being patient enough to wait this long, but again, they obviously weren’t coming. which, if it was a date, was good for him, but bad for you. very bad for you.

and honestly who does this person think they are? letting you down like this? horrible. disgraceful. this person was a grade A jerk-off. they have to be dead from the neck up to leave you waiting here like this, publicly embarrassing you as you sat at a table set for two all alone at one of the busiest restaurants in town. shame on them.

he was glad you seemed to be in the joking mood, however. and about arson, too. oh, he’s always had a soft spot for arsonists.

he hoped you’ll forgive him for having to do his job. if it was up to him, he’d give you all the bread in the pantry just so you wouldn’t leave. but alas, he had to deal the killing blow.

“now, are you still waiting for someone, or?”

your eyes drifted downward to the empty wineglass in your hand as you swirled it sarcastically as if it were still full.

you sighed, “yeah, no, it’s clear he doesn’t plan on showing,” you looked back up at him ruefully, “i’ll order now. i shouldn’t have waited this long for an internet man, anyway, huh? could’ve made it less pathetic.”

“i don’t think there’s a way to make these things any ‘more’ or ‘less’ pathetic,” he began taking out his notepad, ready to write, “because i wouldn’t call it pathetic at all. getting stood up is a thing that’s done to you, not because of who you are, but because of who someone else chooses to be… unless you stole this guy’s car or something. then it’s your fault.”

you laughed. genuinely.

“no, no, it’s a first date. i haven’t known this guy long enough to steal his car yet. but thanks… that’s. a better outlook than mine. kinder,” you apologized, “… uh, can i have like, the cheapest bottle of white wine you’ve got back there? the whole thing this time.”

“i take it back. that definitely made it pathetic.”

while you shared a laugh, douxie mentally congratulated himself. you had just given him the information that a) you were single and b) you were into men. a good day to be a charming single man, then. he had a chance.

“so are you ordering any real food as well? or did you plan on just having wine and bread for dinner? have to say, i don’t think that’s wise, love.”

“well i suppose i gotta, since, i’ve, uh, eaten three baskets of complimentary bread,” you stumbled over your words for a second there, “and i’m sure it’d make the manager mad if it didn’t, right?”

“right you are. he’s uh,” douxie lowered his voice, “he’salreadybeenonmydickaboutyou so yeah, you gotta. plus i’m just— you should eat something, yeah.”

you awkwardly turned your attention to the menu as you did that thing where you hold it and pretend to look over the menu as you order like you forgot or something, “the duck confit sounds good for tonight, i think,”

douxie snorted.

“no, no, that wasn’t a joke,” you shook your head, smiling fondly, “i actually just like duck, i promise. no sarcasm. i do understand the irony though. i get it.”

he didn’t completely believe you, “well then, one order of duck confit, coming right up. be back shortly, love.”

doux grabbed the breadbasket on his way out.

when he glanced back to throw you a short and unnoticeable but longing stare, as he paused in the kitchen doorway, you were fidgeting with the flowers on the table. he should get that order in now.

when your waiter came back with food, he placed two plates down on the table. you looked at him like he had suddenly grown a second head as he took the other seat as well.

“what are you—“

“i called in a favor with the owner. i’m still working but, i’ve got a bit of free time now. if you don’t mind me joining you,”

you shook your head in astonishment.

“not at all,” you smiled, still absolutely flabbergasted that this man would do something like this for you, “you’re douxie, right? zoe’s mentioned you a lot.”

“oH—,” he coughed, “oh, uh, she has?“

“yeah,”

he awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck, “only good things, i pray?”

“oh, sure. sure. good things,” you took a demure little sip of your glass to torture him with the pause implying the contrary.

he swallowed audibly. nervous, then. what dirt did zoe have on him. you watched as he awkwardly shoved up the sleeves of his shirt, perhaps feeling a bit warm now. it was cute.

you’d be sure to ask zoe all about him later. how could you not. this was the most interesting thing to happen all year. and it’s december.

you racked your brain for what you knew of this guy for conversation topics.

“you’re in zoe’s band, right? the lead guitarist.”

his face lit up at the mention of it, “oh, yes. you’ve seen us?”

“once or twice, i believe.”

it wasn’t really your thing, live music. you mostly hung around the back of the bar when you got dragged to shows. you liked loud, sometimes. just not often. it really depended on how your brain was feeling that day.

“well, you’ve gotta come to the next gig, then, at least. i’m sure zoe’s already invited you?” you nodded. “the venue’s holding a wee little music festival, it’s going to be nuclear,”

“ah, that’s fun,” you smiled. that sounded like hell but now that two very enthusiastic wizards have invited you, you don’t have the heart to weasel your way out of it. you’ll bring the “XTREME” ear plugs.

“but yeah, the bands great. i love that i get to play with my mates now. a team that works as well together as we do is rare, so i really appreciate them.”

“speaking of,”

doux hummed inquisitively.

“what’s going on with zoe and that new girly y’all’ve got on the drums?”

“oh,” he paused to take a sip, narrowing his eyes mischievously, “they’re boning.”

you clasped your hands together excitedly, “thank you! you’ve just won me a betting pool.”

he almost had to spit the wine back into his glass,“hhhh. how many?”

“oh, just the entirety of the hex tech arcadia staff.”

“i’m not sure she’ll be happy to hear that.”

“which is why you won’t tell her, mr. casperan,” you placed your hand over his with a cheshire cat grin.

well, he couldn’t argue with that.

dinner progressed. alas, you can’t say you lingered as long as you wanted to on conversation. you were kinda rushing things because you felt a little guilty doux was getting someone to cover for him while you had your little date. was this a date. it had to be. as mentioned, he’s going out of his way for this, and you can’t imagine he’d go through all this trouble because he wasn’t interested in you. but then again, you couldn’t believe he was interested in you either.

“do you like cryptozoology?” douxie tried his best to ask nonchalantly while he scratched the bridge of his nose to look a little less interested. he was feeling a bit energized since talking about the band. you had been paying attention to him like he’d been paying attention to you, if only in passing.

“a tad more than the average californian wizard, why?”

“well, later this weekend, i’ve got a job exterminating a goblin infestation in the next town over,”

“snelling?”

“yeah, snelling. the guy i was partnering with told me he was backing out this morning, so now i’ll be going it alone. and im sure you know how fighting goblins alone usually goes.”

“makes it easier for them to gang up on you, yes.”

“see, that’s why i’m asking if you’d be interesting in taking his place?”

“well, i’ve got the weekend off and nothing to do,” he knew that, he got the hex tech schedule from zoe every week(to know how to schedule band practice. and, if he also took a peak at your schedule, it was purely accidental. yeah.), “so, i don’t see why not.”

doux grinned, both relieved he wouldn’t be fighting goblins alone, and feeling clever that he found an excuse to spend more time with you, “perfect, i’ll text you the details? but, oh, i don’t have your number do i?”

you were about to ask why he couldn’t just tell you in person right now, but he said that soo hammy. it took .01 seconds to understand what he was doing. you snorted.

“okay, okay, here,” you held out your hand and he gladly placed his unlocked phone in your hand. you made the contact and sent yourself a text of the first emoji he had in his recents, which happened to be🫀. ah, a goth romantic. you gave him back his phone.

“perfect. thank you, love.” he tucked the phone into his chest dramatically before placing in back into his pocket.

you rolled your eyes fondly, “you know, goblin smashing isn’t exactly my idea of the perfect second date, you might have to turn up the charm.”

“oh, i’m sure i’ll make it worth your while,” he let his head fall into his palm propped up on the table, gaze going soft, “so was this a perfect first date, then?”

you laughed, “hardly. all things considered. but—“

“but?”

“but i’m glad it happened this way. i’ve had a good time, mr. casperan.”

he grinned in agreement, “me too.”

you put your hand on top of the one he left resting on the table, and he took the opportunity to take that hand and gently lay a kiss to the top of your knuckles. he lingered for a moment, eyes shut tight to take in the tenderness of the moment.

alas, he has to go back to work now.

doux pulled out your chair and helped you to your feet. you thanked him as he started stacking the dishes.

“should i—?”

“no, god no,” he chuffed, “i’m the waiter, remember? i work here.”

“oh yeah.”

that reminded you. you shuffled for your wallet, but he stopped you.

“i’m paying for dinner, love. go enjoy the rest of your evening, i’ll text you after i close.”

“you sure?” it didn’t really sit right with you, considering he probably took a pay cut by not working the whole time you were on this little “date.”

“well,” he paused, and placed the dishes back onto the table for time being, “you could leave me a tip, if you know what i mean. just a teeny thing—“

“c’mere,” you snickered as you pulled him down by the lapels to kiss him.

chaste, just a peck. but perfect and sweet all the same.

when you pulled back, you watched as douxie held his eyes closed for just a moment longer than he need to before letting that blinding all encompassing smile bloom across his face.

“well then, a very goodnight to you, y/n l/n.”

#douxie x reader #hisirdoux casperan x reader #douxie casperan x reader #my writing

141 notes · View notes

btsxmalereaders · 2 years

Text

break my heart myself

♡ pairing — lee minho x male reader

> genre — fluff | angst

> word count — 4,02k

> summary — despite being integrated into stray kids a little late, minho and you quickly clicked and started a great relationship. unfortunately, some fans can't still see it.

> tags — 9th!member, idol!au, jealousy, happy ending.

> a/n — hihi! i hope you enjoy this, and i'm sorry i'm a bit late posting your request u.u happy belated birthday, lovely anon!

You were certainly not having the best time now. Starting off by these couple of days have been really tough since your group is having a comeback soon; so you had to deal with rehearsals that didn’t seem to have an ending soon, a lot of photograph sessions with tons of makeup and dress changes, and endless nights locked up in the studio to write and record songs.

You tried to tell yourself it’s easy. Reminding yourself and repeating comforting words like it’ll all be over soon, and you’d be able to enjoy performing and connect with fans once the promotions started, but you were getting tired.

“Hey, are you ready for today’s recording? Everyone but us and Minho are already at the studio.” Changbin pats your shoulder and brings you back down to earth, to later nod get up from the couch. You were still sleepy and wanted to take a quick nap in the living room while everyone was getting ready, but you got too deep in your thoughts and you couldn’t get the chance to do it.

Minho exits your shared bedroom and sweetly smiles at you, approaching quickly and opening his arms to embrace you right after.

“Are you okay, sleepyhead?” He softly murmurs, making you chuckle.

“Yeah, just a bit tired. I’ll be better once we get to the studio, though.” You tell him not to worry him too much; Minho already had enough on his plate.

“Alright, the minivan is outside now, let’s go quickly before everyone starts complaining.” Changbin says.

It’s a quiet ride. Changbin decided to put on his headphones and listen to, you suppose, things he composed late night hours the past few weeks, meanwhile your head is resting on Minho’s shoulder as he scrolls down tiktok and laughs with you, liking cute kitty videos and some other random stuff about Stray Kids and another accounts he follows, obviously on a secret account.

Suddenly, an edit from a fan pops up. Short clips and photos of your boyfriend and Han at the rhythm of a love song. You don't say a thing, not even flinch, and Minho just keeps scrolling as if nothing happened.

Certainly, you have noticed all those fan edits, tweets and messages on vlive about the friendship between Minho and Jisung. It started even before you joined the group, so you understood where they were coming from, it still didn't make you feel comfortable about it. Because, even though you respected and loved their friendship, you didn't like the fact that your boyfriend was being shipped with another person by lots of people, while the attention of your dynamics, despite it being a little bit more subtle for obvious reasons, was being underestimated.

Nothing much was said in the way, Minho locked his phone a few minutes right before arriving and pressed a soft kiss on your forehead. You walk separately, just in case, but as soon as you're on the 5th floor of the building, he takes your hand and smoothly squeezes.

"Oh god, you're finally here. What took you so long?" Hyunjin groans and stands up from his chair as soon as you enter Chan's studio.

"Sorry, I actually took my time to have breakfast, not like you who ate under 5 minutes and ran away."

Changbin tries to defend himself and leaves his belongings on the desk.

"It's not our fault you eat so slowly." Hyunjin continues to joke, so Bin furrows.

"Okay, okay, enough. We have a lot of work to do today." Chan steps up with a smile and starts giving updates for you guys and general directions.

So you all do as told, spending a good time deep in the lyrics of a new song and getting familiarized with it, owning it and adding everyone's details, singing with your hearts and praising each other. It's a song Jisung wrote and you all couldn’t help but be amazed by how great it was.

After a few hours of singing and arranging, you all decided it was time to take a break and get something to have for lunch. The maknae line offered to go to the cafeteria and get you all food, meanwhile Chan, Minho, Changbin and you waited and threw some ideas to continue with the recording; well, it was mainly Changbin and Chan arranging some stuff, too deep in their world meanwhile you two were snuggled on the couch.

His fingers on your hair, touching softly, a humming which you could say resembled the singing of an angel, and his other hand with a tight holding of your back. Yet so careful and subtle. You loved the way Minho made you feel; like home, safe and sound. Loved, above all.

You were so grateful to get the chance to be part of the group, since you joined a little later, but it still impressed you the easiness of how they welcomed you and how the fans were happy about it. After all, it was meant to be. You 'd like to think that, at least.

In between the calmness that just set, you look up to find Minho with his eyes closed, so you admire him closely; every mole, his bright and soft skin, his calm breath, his humming alongside the rhythm of his heartbeat making you feel at ease. A feeling you wouldn't trade for anything.

A few minutes later, everyone gets back in the studio with bags in their hands, the smell of food makes you realize you're hungry, so you stand up and kiss the tip of Minho's nose and smile before helping the guys with the bags.

Everyone takes a seat and begins to unpack the food, rushing to eat something to put you all in a better mood for the next few hours of work ahead of you. Occasionally you discuss what you have done so far, but you try to make the rest of the break pleasant and distracting so that everyone feels a little less tense.

"Oh, guys," Felix speaks up as you're about to finish. "Why don't we pair up and upload some tiktoks of what we're doing? It could be like a little spoiler for stays."

"Yeah, it'd be cool, but couldn't we get in trouble for this?" Jeongin asks, concerned.

Chan simply shrugs, "No, we won't. And if we do, I don't care. It's gonna be fun."

Everyone laughs and decides to go for it, so now Chan makes you all decide whether you should pick your partner or shall he assign them, so you all choose the last option. He knows you well and how you work together, and that ends up with you paired with Hyunjin, Chan is with Seungmin and Felix, Jeongin and Changbin are together and last but not least, Han and Minho.

Now, you didn't wanna seem upset about it, but a bad feeling just settles in you. You would probably not read the comments under their video, though. The tiny hope you'd get to do this with Minho vanished away, and you were not mad about it, just a little bit disappointed.

"Alright, let's just record a few seconds of the song, meanwhile just do a lip sync and do something nice at the ending, I guess? Like we usually do." Chan indicates briefly as he takes his phone and opens the camera, and so the first ones are Changbin and Jeongin. They end up making finger hearts with a lovely expression on their faces that makes you all chuckle.

Felix, Chan and Seungmin are up next, and they send kisses to the camera, making you cringe a little, and consequently they laugh about it too, but thinking it's funny. Then, Hyunjin and you make a small and improvised choreography as well, and end up with a cool model pose, with your arm laying on his shoulder and looking empowered.

And finally, Han and Minho simply make a heart with their arms and shortly wave goodbye before the video ends. Chan posts them right after and hopes it all goes well afterwards.

The rest of the recording goes smooth and quick. You're too deep in your thoughts about this situation, that is clearly out of your control, but you guess that was what bothered you more. The fact that you couldn't stand up and for once and for all put an end to all those rumors and theories just makes you feel even more mad and helpless.

"Okay, that's it for today, let's go home, alright? I'll prepare dinner for you guys." Minho says, causing everyone to cheer up after the tiring day you all just had. He places a kiss on your forehead and picks up your belongings as you head to the back of the building, where the minivan waits for you.

Of course Minho notices you're suddenly quiet rather than being clingy, but he assumes you're tired and lets you sleep a bit on your way back to the apartment.

As soon as everyone arrives home, Minho gets ready to start preparing dinner while the others take turns taking a shower, watching TV and others on their cell phones.

"Is there anything I can help you with, sweetheart?" you ask sweetly as you approach from behind his back, placing your hands on his waist. Minho lets out a nervous little laugh and looks you in the eye.

"Don't worry, prince. Let your boyfriend take care of preparing something delicious for you. You just sit back and wait looking pretty as always."

"I heard that!" Seungmin passes laughing and unnoticed through the kitchen, making Minho blush. While everyone is aware of how mellow you guys can be, it was still something they were amused by.

“Okay, let me know if there’s anything I can do.’’ You simply state and go to the living room, taking a seat and opening tiktok. And you promised yourself you wouldn’t read the comments, but you couldn’t help it. You oftenly chuckled at all the things stay came up with, and liked some of them, as you were using your private account. Then, when Han and Minho’s clip popped up you hesitated a bit, but did it anyway. Honestly, you didn’t know what you were expecting, to everyone comment chill and light-hearted things and not focused on their ship? Of course that wouldn’t happen.

All those “They’re definitely dating’’, and “Minsung is real’’ type of comments were getting on your nerves lately, digging deep into the uncomfortableness and bother you’ve been bottling up the past few years. You just reached the point where you can’t hide your disappointment and jealousy anymore.

After you take a shower and try to relax, you gather with your friends and boyfriend in the kitchen to have dinner. It’s the opposite of being quiet, of course. Everyone is laughing and joking around, as always. But you, on the other hand, are more serene; despite being the other way on the inside. Minho notices it and tries to understand why, but nothing comes to mind. He softly squeezes your knee under the table but you only look at him and give him a fake smile as you finish eating.

You are the first one to finish, so you stand up and wash your plate and utensils quickly, saying nothing more than a goodnight to everyone and go straight to your room, washing your teeth in a heartbeat and deciding to get in bed and sleep before Minho could enter and start asking questions regarding in your behavior tonight. But of course, as soon as you clean your face, Minho's steps in the room and sighs, heading to the bathroom.

"Hey," He says, taking his toothbrush and standing next to you. "Is everything alright? You were very quiet, is anything I c-"

"Don't worry," You interrupt him before he can say more. "I guess I'm too tired. I just want to sleep."

"Are you sure?" He insists.

"Yes," A kiss is placed on his cheek, making Minho blush. "Let's go get some rest, okay? I'll wait for you."

Still, Minho isn't at all convinced, but lets it slide for now.

The night is spent with you both intertwined, your face hidden on the crook of his neck, his heartbeat lullabies you into a heavy sleep and the comfortableness of his arms around you. Tomorrow will be a better day, you say to yourself before falling completely asleep.

Truth is, the next day is slightly better. Minho is really attentive to you, because he is aware something is up, and even though he knows you're not ready to tell him yet, he wanted to make you feel better and let you know you could count on him and open up whenever you wanted.

"Today we will just arrange the last track and tomorrow we will continue with dance practices." Chan says once you're all on your way to the studio, getting everyone's attention. "And I thought, after we finish, we can make a short vlive? It's been a while since we've done one together and it's a perfect occasion, in a few weeks we will be releasing this brand new album, right? So… are you in?"

No one hesitates to agree with the idea. Chan is right, it's been quite a while since you all gathered to make a live and have fun, so it sounds like it will be a pleasant and distracting activity after these past days of stress and overwork.

So all said and done, once you guys are done with the recording of the last track of the album, you get some food and make yourselves comfortable to start with the live. Chan is sitting in his chair, while on the couch in the back is Changbin, right on the armrest, right next to him, Jeongin and Seungmin are along the couch, and on the opposite side to Changbin, Felix has taken a seat.

Minho and Han are on the left side of Chan, and Hyunjin has kept you company on the opposite side, so that everyone can be seen by Stay in front of the camera.

"Okay, is everyone ready?" Chan asks once he has set everything up to start, and presses the start live button when he gets a positive response from everyone.

And it's really nice. Everyone is having a pretty fun time, reading the stay comments, they're placing bets and asking about the songs they will hear next. You guys are joking around, making little spoilers in order to make them suffer a bit for the wait ahead until the album is released, thanking them for the kind comments about the last tiktoks you uploaded among some other comments.

Suddenly the comments drift off to the actions everyone is doing while reading; Jeongin, for example, has started ponytailing Felix's hair and then asked for suggestions to further style his hair, Hyunjin has started feeding you the snacks you brought, while Minho and Han are pushing each other with their shoulders to get more camera, so suddenly some more comments about them catch your attention, which inevitably makes you raise your eyes towards them.

It's a simple, innocent game, but the comments paint it as flirting. And you don't like the way that makes you feel.

Your spirits are now down, and Hyunjin notices it immediately, so he comforts you, hugging you a little, letting you know that you can count on him if you need to let off steam, and also taking your cell phone so you can no longer read those comments.

He quickly sends a message to Chan to end the live broadcast promptly, which he does within a few minutes without question, just after everyone has said goodbye and sent good wishes for Stay.

"So, shall we go now?" Jeongin asks a bit concerned at the abrupt ending, to which Chan confirms and says it was gonna last a bit anyway, since he still needed to be at the studio longer and wanted everyone to get more rest.

"Okay, _____ and I are going to the bathroom real quick, meet you all downstairs?" Hyunjin quickly says and everyone agrees, walking off the room as soon as possible and heading to said place.

Once you're inside the big bathroom, you quickly check no one's in the stalls and let out a long sigh, Hyunjin following you.

"Are you okay?" He asks as you wash your face with the cold water.

"Yeah, yeah," You mumble, feeling terrible. "It's just... ugh, this is stupid. I don't understand why I feel this way, it doesn't make any sense, I mean..."

Hyunjin only manages to look at you, feeling empathetic.

"I'm sorry, I'm acting very childish, aren't I? The jealousy I have is quite irrational."

Your friend doesn't know what to say so he simply gives you a hug. Good, his hugs make you feel better. He makes you feel understood. Hyunjin lets you know that what you feel is okay. He won't judge you, he will simply walk you through this.

"Let's go home, Jinnie. Thank you." You simply say and ignore the tears threatening to stream down your face.

The ride home is quite quiet. Minho is beside you, his head on your shoulder as he plays a game on his phone, but your attention is on the road, your eyes lost in the scenery. And you didn't mean to be so heartless, but this whole situation has really overtaken you for the worse.

As much as you try to think about this and come up with a solution, the truth is that all you want now is to get to your dorm room and rest. Maybe cry a little as an outlet to clear your head and then talk it over with Minho.

So once in the apartment, you quickly head to the bedroom, ignoring Minho's calls, shouting your name so that you at least turn to look at him, but his attempts end up failing. Everyone seems to be puzzled by the situation, but they decide not to intervene; at least not for now.

Minho is really surprised by your behavior, and once you have locked yourself in the room, he turns to Hyunjin for help, since he knows that he was the last person you talked to before all this happened.

"Go to him, he seems to be avoiding you, but he needs you." He instructs him, so Minho walks quickly and knocks on the door a couple of times before entering.

It's heartbreaking for him to hear you sobbing under the covers. He's so confused and worried, so he approaches quickly but cautiously, taking a seat right next to you.

"Hey, prince, what's wrong?" He whispers, his sweet voice reaching your ear but not stopping your crying. "My love..."

Minho reaches his hand to the edge of the blanket and slowly lifts it, revealing your sad, soaked face. He just wants to come closer to kiss you and hold you so much, he wants you to stop feeling bad.

"What's wrong, do you need anything, can I do anything for you? Tell me, please."

You look at him and try to stop crying, slowly getting closer as he rounds you with his arms and kisses the top of your head.

Your crying starts to die down, "I'm sorry." You manage to say, with your voice still low, almost in a whisper.

Minho doesn’t understand why you are suddenly apologizing, but he listens to you and lets you continue.

"I've... This is nonsense, I'm sorry, I don't want you to feel like I'm forbidding you to... I mean, I don't want to-"

"____, hey, it's okay, honey. Take a breath, take your time. It’s okay." He says, now placing a kiss on the tip of your nose and raising his hand to erase the tears on your face.

"It's just that..." A sigh leaves your mouth, in an attempt to calm down your nerves. "Lately, I have read and seen... things that are quite hard for me to process and, I know I shouldn't care about it, cause it's meaningless, but somehow, it gets in my head and now I can't simply ignore it. I hate how this makes me feel."

"What's wrong?"

"Please don't hate me for this or laugh about it…"

"Of course I won't." He assures you, smiling up a bit to make you feel comfortable.

"Okay, I'll just say it. This shipping culture the fans have… I try to understand it, it's fun sometimes, but, it's getting on my nerves that all I can see lately it's about you and Jisung… and, I guess what I'm trying to say is that I'm jealous about this."

You close your eyes, so you can't see Minho's reaction to your words. You said it so quickly you ran out of breath a little bit, and the fact that Minho hasn't said anything in what feels like an eternity, makes you feel nervous. Did you mess up? Is he holding up a laugh? Does he feel attacked?

"Prince, look at me." He utters, holding your face, which is probably turning red, and caressing your cheek.

You slowly do as told, cracking one eye open and quickly with the other one after seeing his face is serious. He's not laughing, but there's a small smile that denotes comprehension.

"I love you." Minho says before pulling you for a kiss. His free hand sliding on your back and holding you tightly. When you run out of breath, he slowly separates, but his forehead is resting on yours and your noses touch up on a skimo kiss. "I love you so, so much."

"I love you too…" You whisper. "I'm sorry."

"No. Don't be." He quickly says, separating a bit so he can stare into your eyes. "You don't have to be sorry, okay? I understand where you're coming from. What you feel is completely understandable. I just… I wish you had told me before you felt this bad."

A smile is finally drawn in your lips, "I honestly didn't know it affected me that much until now. I mean, I just didn't care about it at the beginning, but now it's… everywhere. In a lot of comments on every single video, every live; on signs at the concerts, on fansigns… It got into my head."

"I'm sorry, prince." He says and kisses you again. "Uhm, I'm sure we can talk it out and maybe, if it makes you feel like this, Jisung and I can stop it by not interacting too much-"

"No!" You interrupt him, making him feel surprised. "No way, no. This isn't what I want to happen. It's not your fault, not Jisung's. I don't want you to stop being friends or having your friendship affected by this. I don't think this is in our hands to solve, I'll have to find a way to ignore it and move on."

"Love, I'd do anything to make you feel better. I don't want you to ever feel sad about this situation, we can look out for a solution with Jisung. I'm sure he'll understand." He says.

"I know, but I love and respect your friendship with him too. You've been friends since forever, even before I took part in the group, and I will never forgive myself if that is ruined somehow because of this."

Minho looks at you with adoration, "Are you sure? Because we can come up with a solution."

You smile, "I'm sure. I just needed to let it all out to feel better. It's gonna be okay, eventually."

"Okay, just let me know if you ever feel like this again, please."

"Sure. Thank you, love."

"No need to, my prince." He says and kisses you again. "Now let's wash up your pretty face and watch a movie? I'll let you pick."

"Deal."

Minho doesn’t separate from you the rest of the night. He showers you with kisses and whispers sweet words to your ears until you fall asleep between each other's arms. From now on, you know everything will be okay.

#kpop x male reader #skz x male reader #kpop x reader #stray kids x male reader #stray kids x reader #kpop imagines #stray kids x m!reader #lee know x male reader #lee know #skz fluff #skz scenarios #kpop fluff #skz fanfic

782 notes · View notes