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ariesqueencobra · 9 months ago

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what we used to be | XVl

Pairing: Eli Moskowitz x Fem!Reader

Summary: Moon is throwing a party and the last person you expect to see there is there...

Warnings: dojo rivalry, swearing, underage drinking, bullying, injury

Word Count: 3k

A/N: I've been waiting for this chapter! One of my favorite Hawk moments so it was fun writing! Also a longer chapter! Hope you enjoy!

Thank you to those who already reblog and comment, I see you and I love you all for it!

I don't consent to this work being copied, translated or reposted.

Moon was throwing a party before the school year started.

You walked into the party alongside your friends, but everyone stopped when you realized Cobra Kai was there. Your gaze landed briefly on Eli’s before you forced yourself to look away.

You hadn’t seen him since the day at the restaurant.

It pissed you off that it hurt seeing him. You missed him.

Moving your gaze didn’t make you feel better when they landed on Aisha. You didn’t think breaking up with Eli meant throwing away the rest of Cobra Kai, but then again, you did join Miyagi-Do.

After she abruptly ended the phone call a couple of weeks ago, the tension was there as you stared at your ex-friend.

Thankfully, Moon appeared, cutting it.

“Glad you guys made it,” she grinned. “Kegs are out back, drinks are in the kitchen, and the vegan pigs in a blanket just got out of the oven,” she said.

“You never said anything about inviting Cobra Kai,” Sam said, saying what you were all thinking.

“I figured with summer ending and school starting up, we could all stop fighting and be friends again,” she said hopefully.

“That’s wishful thinking,” Sam brushed off.

“Let’s all clear our chakras and have some fun!” Moon encouraged before she walked off.

You gazed at Demitri, hiking your shoulders up before you walked further into the house, needing to escape Eli.

That’s how you found yourself talking with Moon. You were sitting on the other side of the room and Eli was on the couch. Even though his presence was magnetizing, your conversation with her was distracting enough.

“I swear I was a dewdrop, I was literally sitting on a blade of grass, the sun hitting on me,” she emphasized, gripping your arm.

You were doubled over laughing at her recounting the dream she had. “I’m sorry, I’m just picturing your face on a dew drop like the Sun baby from Teletubbies,” you giggled, causing her to laugh along.

“That’s exactly how it went,” she giggled.

In the process of you laughing, you glanced up, finding Eli talking to a girl.

There he was, oozing with the confidence you fell in love with as he spoke to her. The bubble in your stomach unnerved you and you despised it. You weren’t supposed to be jealous but then again, you weren’t together anymore. It didn’t matter.

“Oh, great! My girlfriend’s here!” Moon beamed. “You’re gonna love her!” She tapped you on the arm before she walked over to the girl Eli was talking to.

A breath of relief escaped you.

For the next hour or so, you spent the entire time chatting it up with Moon and her girlfriend, Piper. The couple was so cute and you enjoyed getting to talk to people outside of karate. Something that had been a while since you last did.

Unbestowent to you, Eli was watching you have the time of your life without him.

You weren’t supposed to have moved on so easily.

He held on to that hope that you were heartbroken, unable to let go of what you had. That’s what his mom told him after she had talked to your mom. What happened since then?

Keeping his gaze on you, he tried distractions. Whether it was a dance circle or talking with Assface, nothing was working. His eyes kept training on you.

You kept laughing, so much. What could be so captivating that you were so invested in conversing with Moon?

Eli hated it.

He watched as Piper showed her ear piercings to you, your eyes tracing over the jewels and you began gesturing to your ear, most likely asking what kind of piercings would look good on you.

He knew that’s what you asked because he knows you.

Then Demitri sat beside him.

“Did you watch the new Doctor Who trailer?” He asked.

“I don’t watch nerd shit,” Eli grumbled, sipping from his cup, brushing his gaze away from his ex-best friend.

“Y’know Moffat isn’t the showrunner anymore,” Demitri continued to talk.

Eli paused. “Wait, really, since when? Is there a new doctor, what’s he like?” He grew interested, not realizing it had been a while since he’d watched his favorite shows.

“She’s badass,” Demitri smirked.

“She?” Eli grinned.

Your giggling drew his attention away and suddenly he was back to being Hawk.

“She’s moved on,” Demitri said, sighing, feeling bad for him but at the same time he was proud of you for doing so. “She’s made it obvious she doesn’t want to be with you anymore.”

“Defeat does not exist,” Eli ignored him.

“There’s that winning attitude that pushed her away in the first place,” he sighed. “Look at her, she’s grown, she’s happy, she found peace, maybe it’s time you found some too,” he patted him on the shoulder.

“Oh yeah?” Eli smirked before he stood up, pouring his drink over Demitri’s head.

The partygoers gasped and you turned just in time to see it happen.

“That’s what I thought, still a pussy,” he threw his empty cup at Demitri before walking off.

You caught his eyes for a moment, sending him a disappointed look before rushing off to check on Demitri.

“Do you want to head out of here?” You asked, helping him pat dry his shirt.

“I’m gonna get cleaned up in the bathroom,” he grumbled before walking off.

You blew out a breath, dumping the towels in the trash. You shook your head, shocked at what Eli did but could you say you were surprised?

“I knew I was right when I said you chose Demitri over me,” Eli appeared at your side. “Now you joined Miyagi-Do?”

“What’s it to you? We’re broken up,” you spat, wiping your hands.

“It means everything, you weren’t supposed to choose that pussy over me,” he furrowed his brows.

“And you weren’t supposed to hurt me,” you sneered. “Guess we did things we weren’t supposed to do,” you swallowed.

“I still stand by what I say, I would never hurt you,” he blocked your path.

“You hurt me every time you hurt Demitri,” you gritted. “What do you want Eli?”

“You,” he answered, point blankly. “Come back where you belong, with me.”

“Stop it,” you shook your head. “I’m better now, okay?” You crossed your arms over your chest.

His jaw clenched. “Being a traitor made you better?”

“I don’t have to explain anything to you,” you gritted, stalking close to him. “You were the one that decided being an asshole was better,” you jabbed a finger in his chest. “You put your ego over our relationship,” you spat.

He was irritated. “And you chose that pussy over us, many times if you don’t recall,” he inhaled.

“Seems like I made the right choice then,” you fumed, feeling proud in the way his eyes flashed with hurt. Serves him right. Keeping your gaze locked on his, you searched desperately for a sign of your Eli, but he was gone. “I don’t even recognize you anymore,” you shook your head, a sting forming in the back of your eyes.

You went upstairs, finding the bathroom but you were curious when you couldn’t find Demitri. Deciding it best to find him after you composed yourself, you found your way back downstairs just in time to see Demitri on stage, a mic in his hand.

“Excuse me,” he said, the mic sounding off some feedback. “I’d like to make a toast,” he sounded boisterous, a contrast from his state a few moments prior. “To Eli Moskowitz,” he raised his cup in the air.

You exhaled in worry as the room questioned who that was.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Demitri laughed. “Some of you know him as Hawk,” he said, gesturing to your ex. “But underneath that crazy clown cosplay and whatever type of Manic Panic he dumps his hair in, he’s still good old Eli. My Binary Brother,” he stated.

You gulped, glancing at Eli, finding him to be angry.

“Well, he was my binary brother. Wanna know what he is now? A real zero,” he gestured.

The room of people erupted in soft laughter.

“Alright that’s enough Demitri,” Eli gritted.

“Don’t let that angry red hairdo fool you. He’s a big softie,” Demitri mimicked. “We watched every Harry Potter movie together. And he cried like a big baby when Dobby died,” he elaborated, imitating sobbing.

You furrowed your brows, not recalling a memory of when that happened.

“In the words of Eli’s hero, Steve Jobs, “I’ve got one more thing”,” Demitri continued. “Have any of you heard of sleep enuresis?”

“Don’t,” Eli pleaded.

Your heartbeat picked up, confusion filling you as you didn’t understand what your friend was talking about.

“That’s the medical term of course. In the King’s English, it’s good old-fashioned bed-wetting,” Demitri said, the room erupting in laughter. “And Eli here is a pro,” he clicked his tongue, snapping at Eli. “My mom had a special air mattress for sleepovers, she called it “Eli’s waterbed”.”

Your heart dropped and you sent a worried glance at Eli, unaware of anything Demitri said. The room erupted in laughter and you wanted so much to stop it.

“Screw mercy. You’re a corpse!” Eli shoved his cup into Mitch, charging towards Demitri but Chris blocked him.

“You’re gonna have to go through me,” he said.

“Stay out of it,” Mitch defended.

“Hey, don’t touch him,” Robby entered.

“Or what?” Aisha taunted.

“Guys, stop, we’re friends,” Moon stood between them.

The tension could be cut with a knife and you were about to go in and help but police sirens were heard, red and blue flashing through the windows.

“Cops!” Someone shouted.

Chaos ensued and you were quick to run towards Demitri but by the time you got to the stage, he was gone.

“Great,” you slapped your hands against your thighs before you booked it for an escape. You were running out of the house but through the mayhem, someone pushed you and you fell right on the lawn, pain spreading in your ankle. “Shit,” you hissed.

“Y/N?” You heard Eli’s voice and before you could speak, he was already hoisting you up on your feet.

You cried out in pain putting weight on your right foot, almost falling again if it wasn’t for him.

“Woah, what the hell happened?” He asked before wrapping your arm around his neck, his arm wrapping around your waist as he helped you keep the weight off your ankle.

“I was pushed,” you huffed, trying to book it out of there as fast as you could.

“I parked a couple of blocks from here, I’ll drive you home,” he said now that you were a few houses down.

“I can’t go home,” you sucked in a breath. “I left my keys in my jacket in Moon’s room and I can’t tell my dad I left them there because the cops showed up,” you hopped, keeping your bad foot in the air.

“I’ll take the blame,” he said.

“I wish, but my parents aren’t even there,” you stated. “They went on an anniversary getaway in Santa Barbra and won’t be home until the morning.”

“I’ll take you to my place,” he said, making it to the car and opening the door for you, helping you inside.

“Thanks, Eli,” you gulped, keeping your gaze ahead of you.

The drive was silent but not awkward.

“My dad’s working late and my mom is at her book club,” he said, unlocking the front door.

You had your arm wrapped around his neck, limping into his house. You missed coming over, the smell of his home. That ache in your chest returned.

“Just one step at a time,” he encouraged as you hopped on each step, one hand on the railing and the other around him.

You relaxed when you made it to his bed.

“I’ll be back,” he left you in his room, and you looked around, having not been here in a long time.

One thing you noticed was the posters of his favorite movies and video games were no longer up, replaced with different punk posters and bands. You didn’t care for the change, really, if he truly liked those things, it wasn’t a problem.

When you noticed the photos of you and Demitri weren’t hung up anymore, your heart fell but you saw he still had your art hung up.

The card you made for him after he got bit by the rabid dog, the hawk painting you gave him for your anniversary, and the other ones you’ve created over the years.

“Here,” he came back into the room and sat on the bed, handing you a bag of ice. “You need to ice it before you compress it,” he explained.

“Thank you,” you took the bag from him, untying your shoe and carefully taking your sock off. “It’s swollen, right?”

He stared at the tender skin. “The ice should help, but I don’t see any bruising so I’m sure tomorrow you’ll feel better,” he reassured.

You nodded, silence consuming you again.

He was sitting by your foot on the bed, his elbows resting on his knees as he stared forward.

You studied him, outlining the curves of his profile.

The arch of his nose, his long lashes, his lips, those blue eyes.

Gulping, you turned away, your face becoming hot. “You still have my art on your wall,” you pointed out, wanting the silence to end.

He glanced at the wall, face softening. “I need to be reminded that we were good before,” he answered, slightly cold before glancing at you.

You sighed. “We were,” you chewed on your lip, shifting the ice pack on your ankle.

“You still wear the bracelet I gave you,” he pointed, gaze on your wrist.

You froze, glancing down at where he was looking, realizing for the first time that it was true.

“I can’t come up with a good reason as to why,” you moved a piece of hair behind your ear.

“Because your heart knows we belong together,” he said, staring at you.

“Eli,” you shook your head.

“No. We love each other, shouldn’t that be enough?”

“No,” your voice cracked. “I wish it were but we’re so different now, I can’t date a bully after going through the hell that I watched you go through and what I did as well,” you glanced down.

“Kinda hypocritical to say that after what your friend did to me at the party,” his jaw ticked, turning away from you.

“That’s not fair. Should he have done it? No, but you attacked him, Eli,” you said. “Over a review,” you stated.

“Not this bullshit again,” he rolled his eyes, standing up.

“Okay, fine, I won’t talk about it,” you leaned back against his pillows, letting the ice pack rest on your ankle. “I didn’t know he’d do that,” you spoke up. “I didn’t know that happened,” your gaze softened at him.

“Yeah, now what? You think I’m a loser, don’t you?” He gulped.

“No,” you furrowed your brows. “The only thing that makes me think you’re a loser is being a bully,” you frowned, arms crossed over your chest. “And I know that’s not you.”

“This is me,” he defended. “And it sucks that the one person I care about the most can’t see that,” he spat before getting up and walking out of his room.

You called after him, feeling helpless as you were left on the bed, your ankle radiating with pain. You stayed there for what felt like forever but then Eli came back in, carrying a tray in his hands.

“It’s been twenty minutes,” he said, setting the tray on the nightstand.

Your gaze followed the tray and found two plates with a sandwich and some chips, two cups with some drink in it, a bottle of Ibuprofen, a wrap, and some type of topical gel. Your heart melted, from thinking he blew you off to knowing he got all this for you.

“You didn’t have to do this,” you gazed softly at him.

“I care about you, Y/N. And I love you,” he glanced down at you, grabbing the wrap and topical gel. “I can do it if you can’t,” he handed you the gel.

You smiled, thanking him as you took it. Taking the ice off, you wipe the water off before uncapping the gel and applying the anti-inflammatory gel on your skin. Instantly, you could feel the relief. When it came to the wrap, you were having trouble.

“Here,” he took it from you, moving to sit at your feet.

“You don’t have to,” you declined but he placed your foot in his lap.

“Let me help you,” he brushed you off.

You sighed as you watched him wrap your ankle.

His touch was gentle and his movements soft.

You couldn’t help the way your heart soared, seeing a side of Eli you missed so much.

“Not too tight?” He asked and you shook your head. “You should eat before you take the pain medication,” he said, pulling you out of your thoughts.

You agreed, asking for help to the bathroom to wash your hands before you settled back on the bed. You watched a show while eating, something comforting in the domesticity before you grew tired.

“You don’t have to take the medication if you don’t want it,” he said, sitting next to you on the bed.

You were resting against the headboard, your faces inches apart. “It hurts, so I do,” you passed him a grin. “Thank you, Eli,” you said, taking the medication.

“You’re welcome,” he took the bottle and glass from you. “I’m gonna sleep on the couch, but call if you need anything,” he looked at you.

You nodded, chewing on your lip.

“Eli?” You asked.

“Yeah?” He stopped from getting up, staring at you expectedly.

“I love you too,” you admitted. “Before, you said you love me and well, I wanted you-”

You couldn’t finish your sentence as his lips landed on yours. Your eyes flew closed and you sighed into the kiss, finding home again.

His hand gently reached up to cup your face and for once, things felt like normal.

But the feeling was brief and you fell back to Earth.

“I can’t, Eli,” you licked your lips, pulling away.

He shook his head, hand still on you. “I never wanted to break up.”

“Neither did I,” you rested your forehead against him before you bid each other goodnight.

#eli moskowitz x reader #eli moskowitz #eli moskowitz imagine #hawk x reader #cobra kai

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thiefking · 6 months ago

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i need to draw/speak more of my narutos. "my narutos" meaning specifically the versions of every character that exist in my head, of course. i wanna draw hinata and gaara (besties of all time) especially. because other than the fact that they have the most fully realized design changes in my head, they are perhaps the defining aspect of My narutos, as opposed to everyone else's. their friendship to me is like "ok i'm going out...! (wearing some extremely Please Don't Look At Me outfit)" "not dressed like that you're not." "better? (she is now gothed the fuck out with an invader zim handbag)" "yas bitch slay." this is how they work. to me

i want to draw Literally Exactly That what i just described there as a meme but i do also kind of want to write or draw sometjing more substantial because i am The Hinata And Gaara Understander. as individual characters and as a pair of besties. amd i need to explain to others why it makes perfect sense because i just Know that i am one of extremely few to look at these two, of all characters, and deduce that the character arc hinata SHOULD have had is one that would be so obvious to gaara & something he would encourage. or maybe the only one, but the fandom is/was so big that it feels statistically unlikely... if we're talking CURRENT fandom i may actually be uniquely insane about this. i don't know for sure i haven't really interacted with the fandom i've been fucking around in my own skull this whole time that's how i even arrived at "hinagaara bffs" in the first place

but like... listen. hinata's thing is basically (in an inconsistent, half-baked, and never fully realized form): "i can change to improve myself and finally meet everyone else's standards and prove them wrong...!" as she is trying to emulate naruto. ... "prove them wrong", but she is not subverting anything if she meets an expectation that was explicitly set. hinata is not naruto. naruto's expectations were that he is worthless and nothing and not worth having any expectations for in the first place, and basically all of konoha thought this way. if naruto accomplishes basically anything at all he proves someone wrong, even if just a little. hinata had expectations set on her, specifically by her family, that she is not meeting. even though what hinata WANTS to do is prove them wrong, what she is fundamentally DOING is trying to please them by doing exactly what they want her to do. yes, when they think she won't even meet their lowest expectation and she does meet it, she is TECHNICALLY proving them wrong... but she isn't really achieving meaningful personal growth by doing this, is she? all she has done is meet their standards and essentially fall into their evil ghoul trap and accept EVEN MORE PRESSURE as a "reward" because now that she finally met this one single goal, they can move the goalpost. she will only ever be the failure who occasionally surprises them, she will always be lagging behind the others, and every single time she fails she gets sent back to square 1 in their eyes. meeting all their expectations or even surpassing them entirely is always going to feel hollow and fragile, because in the back of her mind, if she slips even once she has to do it all over again. she deserves better than constant paranoia

gaara (and pretty specifically gaara) can rightfully point out the problem with hinata's current mindset because hinata's hardships are way closer to GAARA'S than naruto's, to be honest. it's not lacking a family; it's having a family that doesn't feel like a family, and that family isolating one child and encouraging the others to treat them like shit so that one child never has anyone on their own level when they're at home and they are constantly forced to be aware they lack some ambiguous something that seemingly everyone else has that would make them "worthy" of being loved by their own family

hold on let me put yhe rest under a readmore this post is long as fuck

the hyuugas treat hinata like shit and call her weak, and because her parents gladly and openly call her weak and because she's supposed to be heiress to the clan, her sister and neji (the only family who were close enough in age and rank to not intimidate) were made to hate her, think she is weak, be jealous of and resent her for being heiress despite her weakness, and treat her like shit like the other hyuugas do, thus completely isolating her within her family. and rasa treated gaara like shit and had given up on him LONG before he snapped (let's be fucking real here if gaara had to learn that "love" makes emotional pain feel better at age SIX... and not to mention the entire yashamaru """plan""" was utterly and blatantly fucking NONSENSE on all levels like nice going rasa you just turned your kid almost irreversibly insane... seemingly on purpose...? i can only assume it was on purpose and you just wanted to be a spiteful bitch to the kid who killed your wife because literally what else did you think was going to happen with that but that's a rant for another time.), he tacitly encouraged temari and kankuro to not even bother with gaara and to be afraid of him like everyone else is because RASA was also OBVIOUSLY SCARED and not only that he was constantly literally trying to murder gaara so temari and kankuro also had reason to believe from a very young age that associating with him might make rasa treat THEM like that too, essentially forced gaara to straight up kill his uncle who was the ONLY family member he had who talks to him like he isn't a monster (and inexplicably decided that he should also tell gaara outright that he is not and was never loved by anyone), etc etc etc; gaara was also isolated within his own family and made to be the odd one out, over and over again. naruto knows what it's like not having a family at all, but he never experienced having family— non-metaphorical, blood relation, "entire reason you were born" family— who hates you. naruto knows how it feels to be neglected and feared by an entire village, that's how he relates to gaara. hinata was hated by her own family, the people she depended on for life itself, but she was never hated by the village at large, even if she perceives herself to be. naruto can empathize with this and put himself in her shoes, but like... gaara KNOWS, firsthand, what hinata is experiencing. that is why gaara is fairly uniquely capable of pointing out the problem Very Directly because he would see it way faster than anyone else

naruto could see it too, and he could say all the same things, but he wouldn't do it how gaara would. and i think hinata needs to hear someone speak to her, bluntly and authoritatively, and say "you deserve better than this." because normally whenever she hears someone (her own family) speak to her bluntly in an authoritative tone they're telling her she's weak and pathetic and subpar and needs to improve, and every time she is spoken to like that she believes them and marks that weakness off as something to fix. hearing incredibly matter-of-fact validation and encouragement spoken the exact same way primes her to believe that encouragement, and now her compulsive need to please people who speak to her that way is going to force her, even fleetingly, to take it seriously. especially because gaara would tell her something she is doing wrong, which will feel familiar, but he actually has HER best interests in mind. there is no benefit or advantage for him if she succeeds. he is unaffiliated, not even from konoha, he gains nothing from it. gaara doesn't tell her to try harder nor to give up and accept mediocrity. gaara tells her it's okay to give up and try something else, and sometimes it's the people around you who are the ones who need to change, not you.

gaara looks at "i will change myself to prove myself to others", and he says instead: "you need to stop caring what other people think about you and stop morphing yourself to their perception. just because YOU aren't doing that in a 'if you all want to call me a monster then fine, i'll be a monster' kind of way, like i did, that doesn't mean that isn't still an unhealthy way to think. you should figure out who YOU are and live as who YOU are, unapologetically, until they get the point that they can either accept you as you are and realize they were wrong, or they can fuck off. this is a situation where it is Not Your Fucking Problem that other people are disappointed with you especially because of how hard you've already been working to try and meet their arbitrary standards. this isn't about talent or hard work. this is about whether you even Want to be doing what everyone else wants you to do. and it is difficult and terrifying and lonely to be the only person who knows who you really are. it is hard work to figure it out and it is hard work to convince others, and at times it will feel hopeless. so i won't let you be the alone. i won't let you have to try and fail all alone, like i did. i will be your first victory, i will give you listening ears, i will be your silent dressing room mirror while you try on different hats before you figure out which one fits, i will be here and i will not judge you or decide on your behalf who you are, and i will be your family if no one else will. literally. if they cast you out you can come home to me. temari and kankuro have already accepted me as i am, i'm sure they'll accept you as you are too"

and then with time and gentle coaxing hinata decides to stop trying to be what her family wanted her to be and starts being a goth weirdgirl and pursues her interests in mycology and psychology and entomology and starts fucking THRIVING

i could go on forever. i should stop now or i never will. some of the parallels between them or the reasons that gaara would specifically want to support her in the specific ways i envision came about entirely from headcanon (coughs. even more headcanon than... the rest of this... coughs) and i FORGET that it's headcanon. for example "gaara created his good reputation in sunagakure through brute force good deeds. like people were so scared of him that they wouldn't let him CASUALLY prove that he was trying to be better, so he basically had to scare them even more just to prove that he was no longer scary. things like using his sand to hold people in place... so that he can physically put money into their hands and say 'this is yours and you will take it and use it to pay rent and buy your child that toy he wants. i do not want anytjing in return and i will be leaving you alone now.' because otherwise people would run away before he even gets the chance to be nice. literally just has to hold them still and pointedly do something nice for them and then let them go without hurting them while they tremble in misplaced terror like he;s a wildlife vet wrangling an injured seagull". this is part of why he would say "be unapologetically you and they can accept that and realize they were wrong about you to begin with, or they can fuck off". NONE OF THAT is explicitly canon... but there is so much & it makes perfect sense to me. aauuugaghh hinata my hinata my hinagaara besties my hinata. i could go on and on and on and on. goddammit I WILL GIVE HER THE CHARACTER ARC SHE NEEDS & DESERVES... GIVE HER TO ME KISHIMOTO.... WHAT IF THE FACT THAT HINATA HAS 3 PERSONALITY TRAITS IN CANON ACTUALLY MEANT SOMETHING AND WASN'T JUST BECAUSE YOU, MASASHI KISHIMOTO, SELF-ADMITTEDLY DO NOT KNOW HOW TO WRITE WOMEN? WOULDN'T THAT BE SO MUCH LESS EMBARRASSING FOR YOU? I CAN MAKE IT REAL! I CAN MAKE IT MEANINGFUL!!!! I CAN MAKE IT ABOUT REPRESSION!!!! I CAN MAKE IT ABOUT WORKING HARD TO BE WHO YOU WANT TO BE, AND SAYING "SCREW YOU" TO PEOPLE WHO TRY AND DECIDE WHO YOU ARE ON YOUR BEHALF, AND THE REJECTION OF THE STATUS QUO, AND EMBRACING THE THINGS THAT MAKE YOU DIFFERENT AND MAKING USE WHAT UNIQUE STRENGTHS YOU HAVE INSTEAD OF TRYING TO MATCH WHAT EVERYONE ELSE IS DOING, AND HOW HUMAN LIVES ARE INHERENTLY VALUABLE EVEN IF EVERYONE AROUND YOU SAYS YOURS IS WORTH NOTHING!!! JUST LIKE WHAT NARUTO WAS SUPPOSED TO BE ABOUT IN THE FIRST PLACE!!!! I CAN EVEN SPICE IT UP A BIT AND USE MY MAGICAL WOMAN-UNDERSTANDING POWERS TO MAKE IT ABOUT HOW WOMEN ARE ACTUALLY JUST REGULAR PEOPLE WHO ARE AS VARIED AS MEN AND HOW THE SOCIETAL CONCEPTS OF WOMANHOOD AND PROPER WOMANLY BEHAVIOUR ARE RESTRICTIVE AND OPPRESSIVE, AND THE MANY WAYS THAT SOCIETY WILL FORCE TOTAL CONFORMITY AND PUNISH EVERYONE WHO STEPS OUTSIDE OF THAT FRAME (AND EVEN THOSE WHO REMAIN WITHIN)!!! I CAN MAKE IT ABOUT COMPULSORY HETEROSEXUALITY!!!! I KNOW YOU'RE AFRAID OF GIRLS MR KISHIMOTO WILL IT MAKE YOU FEEL BETTER IF I ALSO MAKE IT ABOUT NEJI WATCHING HINATA COMPLETELY REJECT HER CAGE AND DISCOVER HERSELF AND HOW HE FEELS ABOUT IT AND MAYBE JUST COVER YOUR EARS WHEN I START TALKING ABOUT EGGS!!!!!! MR KISHIMOTOOOOOO PLEEEEEEEASE

#txt #naruto #gaara #hinata hyuuga #tentatively tagging this with these two in case someone out there does not think this is Insane #i understand you. you understand me #anyway. i love YAPPING #did we all enjoy my headcanons. my insanity. who am i kidding no one read all this shit

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starlight-writer · 2 years ago

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If your requests are open could I pleeease have moon boys helping you on your period? I’ve got a bad one and need some comfort 🥲 <3

Period Comfort

A/n: Ofc you can! I’m sorry you’re having a difficult time, I hope this helps!

Warnings: none, light pain and discomfort, fluff

Afab reader but Gn pronouns Masterlist

Steven

King of taking care of you

Need pads or tampons? He’ll run to the store. Literally

And he’ll muster up his best death glare at anyone that mocks him for it

Want some snacks? He’s getting them

Want something home made? He’s learning how to make it as we speak

Need some cuddles? Move over, love, the Steven love bomb is headed your direction at full speed

While he doesn’t have much knowledge on periods, he knows when you’re uncomfortable and he‘d do anything to make it go away

Reads all about how to help cramps and what foods or drinks will make it worse

“I bought you chocolate, bananas, oranges, chamomile tea, and I’ve got a warm bath running.”

If you have a really bad period, like can’t get out of bed, he’s right beside you the entire time

He’ll read to you or just lay with you until you need something

If you’re hot, remove blankets, but encourage you to keep the heat pack on your stomach

If you’re cold, he’ll bring every blanket in the flat

If you bleed through, he’ll wave it off like it was nothing

“Don’t worry love, I’ve been cleaning blood out of my clothes for months, I can get this out in a jiffy! Why don’t you pick a movie and I’ll start on dinner?”

Will be very focused on how much pain medication you take and when you took it

“Sorry love, you’ve got to wait a few more hours, don’t want you taking too much and getting sick.”

Over all, he does research, very kind and soft, and always knows how to accommodate to what ever your feeling

Oh and don’t think he won’t take the day off of work, because he will gladly yell to everyone that his significant other needs him and if Donna wants to put him on inventory for the month, he’ll gladly take it to take care of you

Marc

He has more experience than Steven and Jake combined, but that doesn’t mean he’ll know exactly what to do

While he was married to Layla, he quickly found out women and afab people act differently on their periods so he’s a little hesitant on how to approach you, unsure of what you need from him

Buys anything you want because he can’t cook

Will kind of shyly ask what tampons or pads you use before going to the store and stocking up on them

Will absolutely argue with anyone that calls him weak or less of a man for buying you menstruation products

“You’re just sad no one loves you or trusts you enough to take care of them besides your mother!”

He’s not sure what foods help or don’t help, so he just gets what he used to get Layla

But he’ll gladly listen to any advice on how to help you if what he’s doing isn’t helping

Doesn’t do as much research as Steven, of course he’ll look up foods that’ll make you feel worse, but he prefers to ask YOU what YOU want

If you request a food that makes your period worse, he’ll suggest you eat something else, but doesn’t argue

You know your body better than Google

If you ask for cuddles, look out, the Marc train is rolling into the station

He loves give you affection so don’t be shy to ask for a kiss or just to be held

If you’re really emotional, he’ll be a little confused on what to do, but he’ll try his best

Isn’t as focused on what medications you take and when so he just kinda shakes out an amount and hands you some water

He gets beat up for a living and takes a lot of pain medication and it hasn’t killed him yet

As always, he’ll be very loving and soft toward you and please be upfront with what you want, he wants to help you as much as he can

Jake

He’s the boyfriend that would ask “what pussy size you wear?” when buying pads, but in a joking way

Don’t let that scare you though, he is very loving and will do anything for you

Anything

He will never be ashamed of buying you pads or tampons, he loves you and if anyone has the dumbass idea of calling him out for it, he’ll put them in their place

If you call him while he’s out working, whether it be while he’s a cabby or Moon Knight, and ask for cuddles or just his presence, he is dropping everything and running to you

Does a surprising amount of research

Not as much as Steven, but definitely more than Marc

“Cariño, is it true that everyone craves chocolate on their period?”

Tries to call your period something funny to make you smile

“What’s up, amor? Oh, are you having a red velvet cake?”

“Oh, it’s shark week?”

“Is the Red Sea giving us a visit?”

If it makes you uncomfortable, he’ll immediately stop

He never wants to make you uncomfortable, especially when you’re already in pain and uncomfortable for a whole week

This man never needs a reason to randomly hug you or give you a kiss so if you’re a very cuddly person on your period, he’ll be overly ecstatic that he gets to hold you all day

And for a whole week?? He might die of happiness

And if you don’t want to be touched, that’s completely fine with him

He’ll sit a bit away from you and talk your ear off about his day to try and distract you from the pain

“This cabrón walked right in front of the street and acted all shocked when I almost ran into him. Idiota absoluto. He’s lucky I’m an amazing driver.”

Will hold you all night, occasionally reheating your water bottle or taking the heating pad away to make sure you’re not gonna overheat

His life is always full of danger and running so he’s so glad he gets to be a part of these slow, domestic days with the one person he wants to spend them with.

Also, be up front with what you want from him

You’re his first serious relationship and he doesn’t want to mess that up so tell him what you want and when you want it

I promise he won’t get embarrassed, he loves you as you are and could never be embarrassed by anything you do

#starlight writes #Jake is the boyfriend that would pretend to eat a tampon #or call it a missle and throw it at you #jake lockley #marc spector #marc spector x reader #marvel #moon knight #steven grant #steven grant x reader #jake lockley x reader #fluff #gn!reader

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twisted-wonderland-shenanigans · 2 years ago

Note

I sent an ask earlier and I am so sorry for spamming but I've been having brain worms for the Kaiju!au.

Like we sad Vargas and Kalim being all friendly but imagine little baby Cheka playing with Yuu.

Also, just imagine Cater, Vil, or Rook doing dancing from some music player that Yuu found. Which also makes me ask if they get their own little hideaway for their human buisness. (God Crowley when his hatchling leave the nest...)

And finally, when Yuu finally gets to cook, meat or fish, are the Boys gonna try to demand they have some. I just imagine Yuu giving a piece to grim and his pupils blow out from how good it is....and then words goes around and it's all over for any peaceful cooking with Yuu.

I'm actually in the process of answering that one! I just gotta figure out a few scenarios for it to make it fun~! >v< And please don't worry about spamming me with asks if you have ideas or thoughts you wanna share about my AUs! I love receiving these kind of asks! :D

Putting under a read more because I got a little carried away 😂

----

Oooh my goodness, someone teach lil’ kaiju Cheka to be gentle with the tiny human! X’D To be honest, I almost didn't put him or Falena in the AU...buuuuut now that I think about it, that would be a crime against adorableness, and I will not stand for this! Ò.Ó I shall rectify this~!

In the AU, Cheka would be a little bigger than Grim would be in terms of height. Not quite twice his height, but still pretty big! Now imagine the lil’ ragamuffin sweetheart just trotting along with Yuu perched on his back, playfully marching across a log bridge with Grim trotting behind singing “Hakuna Matata” while Ruggie and Jack have to keep an eye on them (because we know Leona would be taking a nap and hiding from his nephew even in this AU). The only difference between this version of the two is that whenever Cheka pounces on his uncle in a play fight, Leona actually will react as though he got hurt to encourage the hunting instinct.

Hey, he may not be happy having his nephew bugging him, but he knows it’s important to know how to survive (and he’d never hear the end of it from his brother or his brother’s mate)!

When it comes to doing “human business”, it’s agreed that there is a need for privacy even amongst kaiju, so if the human disappears for a short time behind a rock or in a bush, it’s not going to be questioned by curious kaiju. Luckily Yuu won’t have to worry about poison oak or poison ivy! Most of the poisonous plants that can cause an itchy reaction are too high up for them to reach, so it’s mainly the kaiju who would experience the terrible itchy curse. Good thing they’ve got Crewel to mix up some natural medicine for them—good luck making most of them take it though! XD

Anyway, moving on: music! One of the best ways to soothe the soul and calm the savage beast. When Yuu manages to get near one of the other abandoned facilities and gets to explore it with Grim (who is literally the only one small enough to fit inside with them), it was actually Grim who stumbled across a music player. He thought it was some weirdly shaped snack or chew toy.

This resulted in a bit of a tug-of-war between Yuu and Grim, and now Yuu has a new (slightly chewed) music player! Let’s see how it transpired and what resulted afterwards, shall we?

“Let’s see…junk, junk, trash…wow, did they really even leave anything worth using in this place?”

Digging around in the pile, Yuu sighed as they sat back and stared at the room. Of course, this place had been ransacked already…though by who exactly was unclear, but it seemed like things had been torn apart and whatever components or guts the tech had before was now gone. But there had to be something they could use in this place, right?

Crunch!

“Pleh!”

“Grimfang, no! Stop trying to eat the plastic you lil’ gargoyle!” Yuu scolded, sighing as Grimfang spat out a few shards that got stuck in his teeth. “Ugh…one of these days you’re going to eat something you shouldn’t, you know that? Don’t come crying to me when you get a tummy ache.”

He shook his head with a snort, giving Yuu a look that suggested he was offended by the very notion that he might get a tummy ache…or at least, that’s how Yuu interpreted it. It was odd how expressive the kaiju seemed to be, seeming almost…human-like in a way, though sometimes Yuu wondered if it was just their mind humanizing them to have company.

“Well, don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Turning back, Yuu scanned the wreckage to try and find something they could at least bring back. Even a writing utensil would do! “Okay…maybe we should try the next room and see what we can find.”

As they turned to go, they heard the familiar sound of tooth scraping against metal and sighed. What has he found this time?

“Grim, if I have to pull another pipe out of your gullet again, I’m gonna-” Yuu began before freezing, eyes growing wide at the familiar shape between Grim’s paws as he tried to gnaw on the corner: a music player. “H-hey, hey! No! Grim! Drop it!”

“Rrraowl!” he rumbled in response, his paws pulling the player into his chest fur protectively.

“Grimfang, no! That’s not a chew toy—hey! Get back here, you malevolent little gargoyle!!”

“Nyaarr!!”

“GRIIIIIM!!!!”

//Later//

The sound of static filled the den as Yuu sat in the nest, using Grimfang’s side as a pillow while they fiddled with the large and heavy music player. It had been one helluva chase around the facility, but eventually they triumphed and claimed their prize! Aside from a slight chewing on the frame, the kaiju’s fangs hadn’t really penetrated the shell and everything seemed to be in working order. To their disappointment though, they couldn’t get a radio signal no matter how many buttons they pushed or how much they turned the dial.

“Hey, MIRA? Does this island have any sort of radio signal or something?” they asked the computer around their wrist. “I can’t get anything on this player.”

“Greetings, Uhm Yuu. Answer: negative. This particular system cannot receive the signals from radio transmissions. Due to the nature of the island and its inhabitants, it is difficult to build and maintain any semblance of a tower to transmit signals across the terrain, requiring different methods to communicate with other facilities.”

“Darn it! So that means I can’t do anything with this hunk of junk?”

“Negative. As it is in proximity, I am able to access the system wirelessly and play music from the database.”

Eyes growing wide, Yuu asked, “There’s a music database…?”

“Affirmative. I have access to a wide selection of music from all manner of media pre-downloaded from the Dark Mirror Server. Dr. Willows was an avid enjoyer of music and always kept an up-to-date selection for her playlists to aid in her work. Would you like to create your own playlists?”

“Yes!”

“Mrr…?”

//End Scene//

And thus began Yuu’s task to set up their musical playlists…much to the kaiju’s confusion even when Grim tried to explain what he could translate. For the most part, they just figured it was a weird human thing…until Yuu played the first song. Was it some beautiful, soothing song, or an excitable bop that made them excited? Nope. It was neither: what was meant to be a fun introduction to a song turned into what essentially boils down to a warped death metal demonic screech and garbled static. The sound was so terrifying that Grimfang looked like a puffy ball of daggers, and Nevermore flared up his wings like some puffy shield in a panic.

That’s why it’s important to check the volume of the music before you play it first!

It was after that when Yuu noticed a difference in the kaiju when they played certain songs—namely instrumentals. For some like Pridefang, they noticed how much more relaxed he was when harp music was playing, while when it came to wind based music like flutes or chimes, Crystalflayer/Vil would croon and sing along and the more canine-like kaiju would practically fall asleep.

Then there were the silly moments with the music.

When Goldmaker/Kalim was visiting, Yuu was playing the song “Cus I’m Happy” at random…when they noticed the shiny beetle/dragon kaiju doing the tippy-tap dance like a dog on all six legs, bouncing here and there in time to the music like a kid jumping on the bed.

And then there was the time that Bruiser/Deuce and Feralfang/Epel were tugging on something that looked somewhat like a giant leather ball that had been popped (or at least, they thought it was a ball, though it could be a bit of carcass too). It didn’t seem like they were fighting over food and more like they were just…playing. It wasn’t until they had stood frozen in place for a moment that Yuu played the song “Cotton Eyed Joe”—

And they both tugged in time to the beat. (A/N: click link for doggos in reference to the song/scene!)

Aaaah, the joys of music!

Now as for the food, as good as fruit and the vegetables were, it was a little harder to find sources of protein that were safe for human consumption on the island…or at least, sources that didn’t want to eat or swallow them whole or were out of reach. Plus, they had a continuous source of fresh meat brought to them and Grimfang throughout the day with no hassle. They just needed a way to…prepare it.

When Yuu manages to light a fire in a makeshift firepit (guided by MIRA’s survival database), Nevermore was certainly surprised to find that his hatchling had finally accepted the meat offering and confused at what they were doing with it near the fire. It’s incredibly rare for any kaiju to actually “cook” their meat, and whatever constitutes as cooked meat would be little more than chewy charcoal, so if it turns out that’s what the little human likes then so long as they eat their fruits and veggies, he’ll allow it.

“Aaaaand…done!” Yuu uttered, tugging one of the sticks bearing individual chunks out of the ground. They could feel the juices from the meat that had dripped down the makeshift skewer, forcing them to take care as they adjusted it in their grip to avoid the hot parts before they took a tentative bite.

Just like the fruit, the meat was tender and full of flavor as the juices dripped down their chin with each bite. It wasn’t perfect, but it was so good to have a cooked meal again that Yuu didn’t care. They’d even been lucky to find a wall of salt when they’d gone exploring with Grimfang, so at least the meat had a little extra flavor to it! MIRA had mentioned before that the island had many herbs and spices that could be used for cooking. If they could get a hold of some of these, then their meals would be so much more fulfilling!

Curious sniffing caught their attention as they turned to see Grimfang, cerulean eyes staring at the chunks still cooking on the sticks around the fire. He’d long since finished his portion, so there was no way that he should still be hungry…right?

“Mrrlh?” he grumbled, carefully pawing at the dirt near one of the sticks but not actually touching it before giving Yuu a look.

“No, this is mine. You had yours already,” Yuu told him, turning their attention back to their food.

“Prrrrrr…”

‘…oh no…’ Slowly they turned their attention back to Grimfang…and immediately they found themselves struck by the biggest, brightest pair of kitten eyes they’d ever seen, the kaiju’s forelegs curling up to his chest as he rolled over onto his side to reveal his soft, fluffy tummy. ‘…darn it, why did I have to watch those kitten videos around him!?’

His paws began to open and close, mimicking the kneading motion that the kittens in the video had done earlier.

“…augh! Fine! But just this once, got it?” Yuu said, heaving a sigh as they took another stick out of the ground and—after playing hot-potato with the cooked flesh—tossed it into Grimfang’s waiting jaws with a snap. He was purring in triumph, giving Yuu a smug looking grin…

Before he froze, pupils growing so wide that they nearly engulfed the blue of his eyes. His whole body began to shiver, jaw slack as drool began to drip from his maw. Then—rearing back on his hind legs—his paws pressed against his cheeks as he swayed almost in pure bliss, a series of trills and chirps coming from him.

“Huh. Well, uh…glad you like my cooking, Gri—hey! Hey, hey, hey, hey! NO! Grim! You had yours, the rest are mine! Stoooop! Nevermore!!”

//The next day//

“Okay, here’s what’s going to happen: I’m going to cook some of this meat using the ingredients we just picked from the forest, and while the big hunk cooks on the spit, we’ll snack on the smaller pieces. This side is yours, and this side is mine. Got it so far?”

“Mrp!”

“Good. Don’t even think about stealing my share, or I’m never cooking anything again. Got it?”

“Myah!”

Shniff-shniff…

“Huh…? Wha-!? Scrapper, no! This is mine! I-wait, I-! What are you all even doing here!? Guys!”

//The next day//

“……did you guys know that Scrapper, Shellshock, Ashsong, and Heartbinder could even cook, or is this new?” Yuu asked, watching as Ashsong’s tentacles moved the herbs and spices across the cooking meat, Heartbinder’s claws and teeth ripping chunks off and handing them to the clover-marked Shellshock as he put them on skewers. Ashsong’s wings would occasionally flap, causing the flames to flare up with new life. Scrapper used his jaws to turn the makeshift spit that one of the kaiju had carved to turn the meat in a slow circle.

“Nyawr.”

“Thaaaat’s what I thought…more please!”

As it turns out, once the kaiju learn the secret to amazing food, it becomes one of the few things that keeps them from bickering and fighting and even have them cooperate together just to get a taste. It was a strange sight to see, and even MIRA commented that this was highly unusual behavior that hadn’t been recorded by scientists before. This raised far more questions than answers. Sure, the kaiju were dangerous, but they were intelligent.

Too intelligent…

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland kaiju au #twst kaiju au #twisted wonderland kaiju au worldbuilding #twst kaiju au worldbuilding #oh how I love playing with this AU~!

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the-cat-chat · 3 months ago

Text

August 10, 2024

Father of the Bride Part II (1995)

George Banks must deal not only with his daughter's pregnancy, but also with his wife's.

Warning: Review may contain spoilers. Read at your own risk.

JayBell: And we're back! Although we didn't love the first Father of the Bride movie, we were curious enough to want to know what happens next. And what happens next? A lottttttttttt. Some would say too much.

There's a bunch of little plots and conflicts that kind of go nowhere, and I would love for this sequel to have been simplified. Here's what I would have loved to have happened in this movie--the daughter gets pregnant, Steve Martin's character freaks out about being a grandfather and getting older, bring back Franck and the in-laws for the baby shower, daughter learns that her dream job is far away, Steve Martin's character is sad but encourages her to move away with her baby and husband. Bittersweet goodbye. The End.

As it stands, there is too much going on. Steve Martin's character did not need to have another baby, the house didn't need to be sold and then repurchased in this bizarre non-funny way, there didn't need to be a whole part about expanding the house (and staying in the in-laws mansion), and obviously, there didn't need to be such an emphasis on having a young, female doctor deliver the baby. Like what was that?? I would have cut all of that and gone back to the roots of the movie, which is the relationship between father and daughter.

It's like they had so many ideas and somehow wanted to include them all in one movie. So yeah.

Rating: 4.5/10 cats 🐈

Anzie: Sometimes, honestly frequently, I question my decisions and where they’ve led me. And this sequel might be in my top ten of my whole life. It’s not that it was bad- but it was surely painful. It’s exactly like Jaybell says. There’s way too much happening for whatever reason. Like having another baby at the same time (and then literally the SAME moment) is bad enough. It’s enough plot. I mean in reality that would cause so much family drama. And this is gonna sound terrible. But I already said in the first review how I don’t like Diane Keaton as an actor- but it was unbelievable she was going to be having a baby again. I’m soooorrry. And soo that kinda distracted me. And can I just ask where the little brother kept disappearing to?? And why no one was ever concerned? And can I just air the fact that I understand it’s the 90s but to have Franc design that “Babyland” room and it supposedly cost so much- it was ugly and just literally toys? Anywho def avoid the third part even though it’s like 23 minutes and triggering pandemic material with bad green screen zoom chats. Watching 15 seconds of that took the remaining bits of soul I had.

^ I’m gonna knock it down a point too bc I’m traumatized from this movie that I can’t bring myself to watch the new season of Only Murders in the Building 😢

Rating: 3/10 Cats 🐈

#movie #movie review #film #film review

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jjwho · 1 year ago

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May I participate in your game please? I’d like to know who my next partner is and when I might meet them?

Visual: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hUvjiKeKy4I I feel like you will have a meet cute. It might be a little manufactured though. Your next partner might have been noticing you for a while and decided to finally approach you one day. However you’ll end up bumping into each other outside of a coffee house and making a giant mess. It’ll be their fault because they were overzealous and to make it up to you they’ll buy you a coffee. You’ll end up talking together and then exchange numbers. Your next partner may think that you didn’t like them and that the number you gave them was fake. You may have to reach out first. This event may happen by June of next year. Visual:https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=USKDdEg8N3s (0:00-0:59) You may confess you like each other in front of that same shop. It’ll be really sweet and wholesome. You both will be really nervous which will help you be more vulnerable with each other. I feel like before that moment you were really careful around each other. Maybe you’ll already have strong feelings, but you don’t know exactly how the other feels just yet. ‘Do they like me in a friend way or a romantic way?’ So you’ll kind of take it slow because you don’t want to violate any boundary between you. Everyone else will be able to see your feelings though and try to encourage you both to make a move. Visual:https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dWRreixLzYk This relationship will scare you more than your past ones. It will be a big risk with high rewards. It’ll require you to be brave. You’ll like this person ALOT and feel drawn to them in a way you’ve never had before. You’ll want to be vulnerable with them right away, but the past has taught you to guard your heart. You’ll kind of have to relearn how to trust your partner especially with delicate personal things. I feel like your next partner will already be a very trustworthy person, but they’ll still want to prove that they can be a reliable partner. They’ll go out of their way to be there for you when you need them. Their love language may be acts of service, and they’ll try to step that up as much as they can. Visual: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rS6UXbdpddQ Your next partner will be extremely attractive and may have quite a few admirers. They may be oblivious to their attractiveness and admirers though. You’ll literally have to point out to them that they are hot and even then they won’t really believe you. I feel like your next partner will be really in shape. You can tell that they take care of themselves. Their physique may not match their personality though. Personality wise they don’t seem like someone who should be as ripped as they are. Your next partner may be similar to Superman. You may get jealous sometimes of the amount of attention they get, but they will always reassure you that you are the only one they want. Visual: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HIMfaPLJpa8 (18:26-21:43) Your next partner may like it when you get a little jealous. They get a bit of an ego boost from it. Plus they may have never had a partner that cared enough to get jealous over them.

Visual: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RESwG23_YGw You’ll be able to be very quirky together. Maybe you have a unique sense of humour, aesthetic or behaviour that no one really gets and actively tries to get you to stop. Your partner will encourage it and celebrate it. You’ll be able to be very open with them no matter what. You have a level of vulnerability between you that you don’t have with many people. There will be a lot of celebrating in your relationship whether its for big or small reasons. I feel like it won’t take much for you to want to appreciate each other especially if one is going through a hard time. Visual: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sM4rv42qyvk (4:06-5:55) I feel like your next partner will be super romantic. They enjoy doing grand gestures that make you feel really special. Most of your romantic moments will be in private though. Your next partner will be really good at personalising their romantic gestures. They’ll remember special moments they shared with you and incorporate that into the future. They’ll remember what you liked and make sure that their house is appropriately stocked with those items. They will want to please and make sure that you're very satisfied in the relationship……in ALL areas. Their execution may be a little awkward at times but you’ll find that super endearing. Visual:https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tH6HUx9SGac (1:03:59- 1:06:34) You both are secret romantics and I feel like you may read or watch romantic media a lot with each other. You may constantly text each other lines from the movie or books you’ll consume together. You’ll want to woo each other in a very traditional way. It’ll excite you that you are finally able to recreate the classic romances that you’ve seen so much in the media with someone. You’ll like being dramatic together.You’ll want to be domestic with each other pretty quickly in your relationship. Visual:https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tH6HUx9SGac (55:08-56:54) You’ll have a lot of passion running through your relationship though it won’t look like it. You’ll both seem like pretty straight laced individuals and others will be surprised how riled up you can get with each other. You may constantly have very playful arguments that are used as foreplay. On the outside your arguments may seem pretty serious, but they aren’t. They help to ignite your passion and you’ll wait until you get somewhere private to fully unleash. I feel like that’s a form of PDA for you. You might not be a big fan of usual PDA, but arguing is another way to connect in public. It also may be somewhat voyeuristic for you. It’ll turn you on to see others are watching you fight. Visual: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vqd68L60fEo Your next partner will fit really well with your family. I feel like in the past your family has been hard on your partners. They may have tried intimidation tactics or flat out excluded them. There may have been a lot of tension. However your next partner will fit in seamlessly. Everyone in your family will like them. Certain members might try to give them a hard time though wanting your next partner to show their worth.

Hi hiii!!thank you so so so much for the reading! I really appreciate how long you made it and how much time you took with it!

Here is your reading:

Cards pulled out:The star, four of swords, the emperor and the wheel of fortune

So the person who is your next partner is definitely someone who likes to stay positive, they mightve had a renewal of leaving behind their old selves who was fearful, had a lot of anxiety and basically couldn't do normal day to day stuff because of their anxiety, but they have changed. I do believe they are actually all about change and they don't mind it.

I do feel like before they hated change because it brought them anxiety, but now they've realized change is their for them to have a breakthrough and realize it's essential for their journey all the time.

They're someone who's very creative and calm, who has their own spiritual journey, they might not call it their spiritual journey cause they might not call things that, but it I'd a spiritual journey that they might call a "new me" or "new year new mindset" I don't really think they might know too much on spirituality but they might actually be very interested in it when they find out about it. I get a masculine energy from them.

There's a particular of them that's very free and creative and just light, but another part that's like hard. Yk. Oop. Hard...😏🫣🤭oop lemme not. But they are a very structures person with a lot of stability, because of their journey and their past anxiety mightve made them learn more ways to create stability for themselves yk yk?

They're a very gentle, calm, but super strong person if you know what I mean. I feel that sometimes he'll be very gentle with you, but as soon as he's out into the world he's less "fragile" and more protected for anything.

I does enjoy being with you and he never wants you to be hurt, but he does have a lot of luck on his side so I don't feel that he struggles with money that much. He's not filthy rich, but he's never at a stage where he can't by things he wants bc why not? Yk what I mean.

Very touchy with you too... I must say. Lots of kisses and him pulling you in when you're cooking for him ect ect.

I see that being how he'd look qt you a lot or when he's around you. Ahhh so fucking cute I'm gonna die-

But off or away from you he's more cool and yk not as gentle

Like this

More detached from his heart, but whenever he sees you or thinks of you it lightenes him up, like a heart cherry blossoms consumes his heart and he's just AH. Yk?

Okay okay now let me get you the times

For when youre meeting him from 2 months to 8 months!

I hope it helps, that's all I could really channel and I wasn't able to see how you guys meet but onky an imagine of you walking into him and ja he catches you and you feel how much muscles he has on him, btw he has facial hair if that's a turn on for you but jaaa

Thank you so much and enjoy the rest of your dayyy

#tarot community #psychic readings #tarot deck

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juuuuliee · 3 years ago

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Broken promises

A/N: so... this is my first story I'm posting, so please don't be so hard on me hahaha... Constructive criticism is of course welcome! I'm working on a masterlist and other stories, so stay tuned if you'd like. I'm sorry if there are some logic and/or grammar mistakes - as I said, this is my first story. I hope you like it, have fun reading! See you soon :)

Pairing:young!Sirius Black x Reader

Genre:a lot of angst, a bit of fluff

Warnings:angst, family problems, relationship problems, jealousy.

Y/N felt bad. Not the kind of bad that makes you want to throw up, more like your stomach was knotting up and that queasy, uncomfortable feeling was getting bigger.

The common room had long been pitch black and only the fire, which was slowly dying away, gave off a small pleasant glow, but it barely reached the sofa where she was curled up.

He had promised. He had promised to be there and yet she had not seen him since lunch in the Great Hall.

Anger and disappointment kept bubbling up inside her, but she tried to ignore those feelings as worry about him grew and slowly took over.

What if something really happened to him?

Before she could think any more about it, she heard a creak and pulled up. The portrait door swung open and the fat lady could be heard cursing behind Sirius, who came stumbling into the common room, but stopped abruptly when he saw his steady girlfriend on the sofa.

"Y/N?" he asked, startled, looking at her with his eyebrows drawn together.

"Damn it, Sirius, where have you been?" she started, realising that the worry was just giving way to the anger that was rising at the sight of him.

"I was at the lake...well...it was someone's birthday from Hufflepuff and I thought...I could go...what did I do wrong, Love?" he told her hesitantly.

"What did you do wrong, Mister? I don't know, everything I think!" Y/N scolded back, theatrically throwing her hands in the air to express her frustration more.

"You said you were coming, Sirius! Hell, YOU even suggested we meet and still said, you’d had a ,,plan’’…I don't know if that was part of your plan, but if it was, I'm sorry, it's a shitty plan! I thought you would have hurt yourself or made it back to Filch's office."

"Y/N, I'm sorry, okay? I forgot, yeah? What do you want me to do? Invent a time reverser just so our ONE date can still happen?!" sneered Sirius, raising his own voice

"The ONE time?! Sirius I don't know if you've been counting, but this is the fourth time in a row you've forgotten or missed it!" now Y/N shouted too, at which Sirius took a step towards her, but she dodged him right back.

,,I know I'm probably overreacting, but I feel like I'm fighting for our relationship all by myself, Sirius. I'm tired of waiting for you all the time, even though I know you won't come and you probably don't even care. It just hurts, okay?" She had started crying completely now and pulled her jumper closer to her.

"Maybe it has something to do with your family problems," he interrupted angrily and raised his hand, which Y/N only looked at defiantly.

"I am who I am and that is how you should accept me, Y/N! I have apologised, what more can I do?!"

Silence.

Grey, angry eyes met e/c, staring at him with anger and disappointment.

,, "Maybe you should change your priorities if some Hufflepuff chick's party is more important than your own girlfriend, Sirius!"

,, "And maybe you should lower your expectations. You're not the most important person to me damn it!"

Ouch. It felt like Sirius had stuck a knife in your back and was very, very slowly turning it around.

"I didn't mean it, Y/N," Sirius said with a roll of his eyes, avoiding Y/N's hurt gaze and focusing more on her shoes.

,, "Yes you did and you know it very well!"

Sirius groaned and you could literally feel the anger bubbling up inside him again and he had to pull himself together very hard not to yell at her again. In the end, however, his temper won out: "You know what? I'm leaving! I'm tired of this kindergarten and this... this kind of you, Y/N."

"Fine!"

"Great!"

,,Fantastic!" sobbed Y/N, but Sirius barely heard it as he stomped up the stairs to his dorm.

Y/N sat back on the couch, exactly in the place where she had been sitting twenty minutes ago and everything was still "fine".

Had he broken up with her?

She didn't know, but she knew it hurt..., it hurt like hell. There was a hole in her heart and it felt like she was losing her boyfriend, who was moving further and further away from her into the mist, so that all she could see was his outline, not even looking back at her. She wanted to reach out to him, to run after him, but something that must have been her own pride pulled her back and tried to convince her that it wasn't her fault.

But she didn't trust that voice. If only she had stayed calmer... Maybe she could have talked to Sirius calmly about her feelings and thoughts....

————————————————��—

"Y/N, wake up!" a voice called at her ear and Y/N slowly opened her eyes. Lily.

,, Lily, please! Let me sleep..." she muttered and turned around to avoid the red-haired witch.

"Forget it! It's Saturday...Hogsmead day," Lily purred excitedly.

"No!"

„Oh come on, Y/NN. We're going to Honeyduks and stock up on chocolate! James, Sirius, Remus and Peter are coming too, it'll be fun!", Lily tried to convince her, but Y/N just shook her head.

"I don't want to see him." "Who?" "Sirius." Lily furrowed her eyebrows questioningly, but quickly understood, "Did you two have a fight?" Y/N merely nodded her head and buried her face in her pillow.

"What was it about?" asked Lily, stroking soothing circles on Y/N's back to get the young witch to speak.

"He missed another date and was at some Hufflepuff party. I was so mad at him...I said things I didn't mean and so did he...His temper won of course...I don't know, it all just escalated. I don't think he wants to see me either." Y/N reported as she sat up and Lily nodded understandingly.

"That's bullshit. He knows he messed up, Y/N. Sirius isn't that stupid... and of course he wants to see you! Besides, it's Saturday, so if you two don't get along, you'll need some frustration food, Y/NN... chocolate! It'll be alright." Lily tried to persuade Y/N and she had to grin.

"Maybe you're right..." said Y/N hesitantly, "Of course I am!" laughed Lily and started to push Y/N into the bathroom.

,"I'm sure he'll be pleased." Repeated Lily, giving her friend a cheery smile.

Once in the Great Hall, the two girls headed for the Gryffendor table where all the Marauders were already seated. Lily gave Y/N's hand an encouraging squeeze before greeting the boys: "Hey!" she called and sat down next to James, who greeted her with a kiss. Y/N stood next to them a little indecisively before squeezing in between Peter and Remus, who greeted her with a quiet,, Hi."

She could literally feel the looks of the others lingering between her and Sirius and lowered her gaze to her plate to avoid the looks from the others and especially Sirius... unsuccessfully. She couldn't help but squint over at the black-haired boy. He had bags under his eyes and was also keeping his eyes on his plate, which was full.

Instead of chatting to the others, she followed James and Lily's relationship banter, which made her wrinkle her nose more than once... Cheesy as hell!

Fortunately, breakfast was over quickly and the group set off for Hogsmead. Sirius and Y/N were mostly quiet and only said something when asked. They all went to Honeyduks together first, where Y/N stocked up on lots of chocolate, at which Sirius just raised his eyebrows, but she avoided his questioning gaze and slipped unobtrusively over to Lily, who was sneaking a caramel into her mouth.

Are you okay?" she asked with her mouth full, eyeing her friend who was standing in front of her a little indecisively.

"He's not even looking at me, Lils... What if he broke up with me yesterday and I haven't even noticed?" whispered Y/N in panic and Lily quickly shook her head.

"He didn't break up with you... Sirius, even though this sounds weird, loves you... Even Peter can see that! Just go up to him and talk to him. But stop blaming yourself: HE messed up and stood you up, not you." She said urgently, piercing Y/N with her green eyes.

„It's okay, Lily," Y/N said, and moved away from her friend, again walking to the biscuit shelf, which was very close to her boyfriend. She looked over at him cautiously and noticed that he was peering over at her too, whereupon she quickly averted her gaze from Sirius again and pretended to analyse the biscuits on the shelf with interest.

After the group had paid for their things, they went into the Three Broomsticks. By the time they entered the pub, it was busy and noisy, making it difficult to find a table to seat them all. After a few minutes, Sirius waved the friends over, who had apparently found room at a table where two Hufflepuff girls were still sitting, giggling as Sirius sat down next to them as he grinned charmingly at them.

A wave of jealousy and frustration erupted in Y/N and she had to pull herself together not to flee the pub immediately. Instead, she bit the inside of her cheek and sat down next to Remus and James, opposite Sirius and Hannah, who probably considered Sirius's forearm her own. She batted her eyelashes and obviously(!) flirted with Sirius, who happily joined in her game.

Y/N quickly looked away, unable to afford to put up with this fuss any longer. Remus unobtrusively squeezed her hand under the table and, Y/N smiled at him gratefully.

Y/N sat awkwardly at the table, not knowing what to do or say next at the sight of her steady boyfriend apparently having already found a new one. Sighing, Y/N stood up and muttered: "I'm going to get us butterbeers, okay?"

Without waiting for the others to reply, she hurried away from the table. She noticed tears forming in her eyes but immediately wiped them away and made her way to the bar where many teenagers were gathered. Desperately, she tried to make her way through the crowd and eventually managed to do so.

She didn't notice someone squeezing up behind her and pushing in next to her until that person snapped at her.

„Y/N?"

Startled, she pulled up to look into the friendly face of Amos Digorry, who was looking down at her.

Oh! Hey, Amos," she greeted her seatmate in Divination and smiled at him.

"Is everything okay with you?" he asked with his eyebrows drawn together and Y/N nodded quickly as she wiped a few remaining tears from her cheeks.

‚,Everything is great, yes," she replied and was glad when Rosmerta put the buttebeer on the counter. Y/N smiled at her in thanks before turning to Amos, "See you around, Amos." She said goodbye and hurried away.

Arriving back at the table, her eyes immediately fell on Sirius and Hannah, who were still talking to each other. Hannah giggled and Sirius seemed to be perfectly comfortable in the company of the beautiful brunette too.

Y/N knew her, she was her seatmate in Potions. As she took a closer look at her, a wave of insecurity gripped her. She had everything one imagines as 'perfect'. She was tall and thin, with a small waist and an elegant posture. She just fitted into the toxic beauty ideals that existed and Y/N hated so much. And the worst part was that there was actually nothing to not like about her. She was sweet and helpful and super nice.

Even though Y/N knew that your weight, your smile, your general appearance, how many friends you have and whether you get good grades doesn't change your worth as a person, she suddenly felt so small and superfluous that she couldn't take it anymore.

She noticed tears welling up in her eyes and stood up abruptly, causing her to bang her knee against the table.

Pained, she screwed up her face and looked at the questioning faces sitting at the table, staring at her. Great... Embarrassed, she brushed a strand of hair that had fallen into her face behind her ear and smiled consumingly, but it looked more like a 'I'm going to cry' smile.

"I- I think I forgot my... uh my- something in Honeyduks, I think... I have- so yeah... I'll go..." she stuttered awkwardly, though she realised all her friends knew she was lying.

She quickly hurried away from the table and Sirius, unable to suppress the tears in her eyes. Hastily she wiped them away, but more kept coming. She didn't notice how Lily called after her in vain and Remus got up from his seat and tried to run after her, but James pushed him back into the chair, looking hauntingly at Sirius who sat frozen. When she got to the crowded alleyway, Y/N just stumbled through the crowd and was glad when she got behind Honeydukes, where there was a path that led to the howling hut. The path was snowed in and would have been beautiful if Y/N had paid more attention. She trudged along the path until she finally arrived at the howling hut. She just stared at it and stopped in front of it. She focused on the small cracks in the wall that looked like small branches of trees moving in the wind.

She heard footsteps coming closer and closer and turned around. Sirius. His black hair was a mess and he hadn't even zipped up his jacket. He was panting and apparently out of breath when he started to speak: "I'm sorry. I'm so incredibly sorry, yeah? You have to believe me when I say I'm sorry... Please Y/N, you have to believe me."

She said nothing and just looked at him urgently until he began to speak again: "Please say something. You can yell at me too, you can yell at me all year and the years after, but please say something." He pleaded, looking at her pleadingly as he wiped his face.

"You don't know anything, Sirius." , she started and he nodded to get her to talk further.

"You don't know how much it hurts to wait for a person that you- that you seem to love. You do know what it's like to not feel loved and- and to feel insecure... you know exactly what that feels like. And I always get so mad at the person who makes you feel that way because they hurt you! And I think I can say that I'm there for you then!" she gulped and Sirius nodded to agree with her, "But you're never there..." she sobbed, letting her tears fall again.

"I know you love me and I can't compare your family to our relationship. I feel good in your presence and- and that's how it should be... - that's how it should be! But- but it always hurts so much when you stand me up or ignore me and I don't even know what I- what I did wrong...I wasn't the one who stood you up, Sirius. It was you...and so many times!" she continued in exasperation and Sirius wasn't sure whether to let her finish or give her a hug. But before he could make a decision for himself, Y/N continued: "And today was even worse! Lily told me all the time that it wasn't my fault and now I know that it wasn't or isn't mine either. But then when you were flirting with Hannah and you-you were having such a good time, I was so sad! Why can you talk to her and have fun but not with me?! Why are you happy to see her but not me?!" asked Y/N desperately and Sirius opened his mouth to stop her from having those thoughts but she continued with a sad look: "You once promised me you would never make me feel small or insecure. You once promised to always be there for me. You once promised me that I was the "only one" and that you loved me. You promised to be there for me so many times, Sirius. But somehow you broke them all and I don't know what to do with these broken promises. I love you and that's not going to change, but I- I just don't know what to do with it when you- you hurt me so much and make me feel so insecure... So actually, you do know what that feels like...just differently." She confessed to him and completely burst into tears.

Sirius, who had tears in his own eyes, looked at her with a pained smile, which made her cry even more. He broke the distance between them and took her in his arms. He pressed her tightly against him and had to bend down to put his face in the crook of her neck. She clung to his shoulders and pressed her face into his chest to breathe in his familiar scent.

They stood like that for a while. Both crying, holding each other as close as possible. After a few minutes, Sirius slowly detached himself so he could look into her eyes.

"You don't know how sorry I am, Y/N. I don't want to hurt you! Merlin, when I think about the fact that I did it, I want to hurt myself. You're- you're- Damn, I'm not good with words!" he laughed and even Y/N had to smile a little.

,,I love you. For everything you do and for everything you say. I love you for who you are and for those little things you do for others. And I will- will never stand you up or break the promises I made to you ever again. I swear I will do my best, Y/N....and I am so grateful that you love me because I never wanted anything else in my life! You don't have to forgive me now...I understand if you don't, honestly." He said softly so she could just hear.

She smiled slightly at him and said laughing: "So if you kiss me now, it'll make things a bit better."

Sirius grinned and closed the distance between them, placing his warm lips on hers. He kissed her softly and lovingly, as if afraid to scare her away, but she didn't go. She deepened their kiss a little and sighed into his mouth.

As they kissed there like that, in front of the howling hut with dried tears on their cheeks, Y/N knew that everything would be allright again....

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spilledkauffie · 4 years ago

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SFW (Fluff) Alphabet · Zemo

List made by @caitlinpotter || Sorry I’ve been so absent this week; I promise I have content for the weekend!

*xFemale!Reader || NSFW Alphabet ❤︎

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Quite affectionate— he loves giving you affection, and it’s all across the board with him. It can be from soft sweet touches to actual affectionate actions done for you.

Full HC list on this soon! ✧

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend?)

Literally the best— for starters he’s super loyal, because if you’re truly friends with him he’s not giving up on you easily. Your friendship wasn’t exactly easy to get to, mostly thanks to his profession, but once you’re in, you’re in.

100% defensive of you— anyone tries to come at you in any negative way, he’s got a comeback to absolutely destroy them. Also, having someone of his reputation around can be beneficial for when you want to be left alone, as he seems to intimidate people a little bit.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

When you cuddle him— he loves it when you just come over without saying a word and cuddle up next to him, he doesn’t ask questions he just lets you get as close and be as cute as you want. Sometimes he has to chuckle at just how physically needy you are, like absolutely burying your face against his back, nuzzling softly, with your arms around him in an attempt to get his attention / also loves waking up to you cuddled right up against him.

When he cuddles you— he can just tell when you need it, so often times he reaches out for your hands with a “come on, come here,” naturally, you give in, he pulls you into a hug, slightly rocking you back and forth. It’s a lot of soft touches and feathery kisses.

↳ if you’re lying on your stomach, he’ll lie down with you. Resting his head on the small of your back, brushing his fingers across or down your back, sometimes he places soft kisses against your skin, which always gets your attention. You either: 1). turn on to your side, he hooks and arm between you legs and uses your thigh as a pillow. 2). you lay on your back, letting him rest against your stomach, gradually he makes his way up to give the corner of your lips a kiss.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they around the house?)

For sure— it’s not long before you’re practically living with him. Now that you’re in his life, he wants you around for everyday life; what is his very soon becomes yours. You picked up on it when he started to suggest “why don’t you stay here... tonight? And maybe tomorrow?” more often.

Around the house— he’s quite casual. You never feel expected to get up at a certain hour (regardless that he gets up early), you’re never expected to be downstairs and dressed immediately, it’s more of a calm atmosphere that lets you wake up. You don’t constantly have to be around each other, he knows space is important. Sometimes it’s just doing your own things in the same room in silence together. Despite the status of Baron, he behaves like your average individual around the house, he likes to do things himself.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

It’s actually really hard for him— it’d have to be in person though, as hard as it would be. For starters it would take a lot for him to actually call it over, he’s extremely patient and an expert at working things out with you, because he truly doesn’t want to it end.

↳ a most likely situation for ending it would be that he can’t guarantee your safety due to whatever he’s getting himself into, and he’d rather make the call to let you go than to have no choice in truly losing you because of his own dangerous choices.

He’d leave it open though— sitting across from him, you stay quiet after both coming to the conclusion that it’s over. However, he leaves you with: “if you ever need anything, in any way. . .” you nod, a few tears falling as you stay silent, staring forward. Coming over to you, he softly wipes a tear away, kissing your temple, whispering, “I’m sorry,” before walking away.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

He’s definitely committed in the relationship— ring or no ring, if you’re in a relationship with him he’s all in, not the type of person to just have a fling here and there. It’s total dedication to you, and you only.

Considering he’s done it once before—there’s a lot of past memories surrounding the topic of marriage for him, which is why there’s probably going to be a good amount of time together before any proposal. He just wants to be sure, plus there needs to be time to talk everything out before rushing into anything.

↳ when the time does come though, it’s a mad romantic, but personal proposal, with the most gorgeous ring in the world.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Physically— he’s super soft with you. He never wants to startle you, it’s always what you’re comfortable with. Touches are more than just flirtatious with him, they can be comforting, encouraging, supporting, etc. (He also knows what you’re not comfortable with as well so he can avoid it)

Emotionally— it’s a little more complicated. With your emotions he’s super gentle and understanding, always. He listens to anything and everything you say or just need to vent. He doesn’t interrupt and only gives his thoughts when you ask for them. He never intends to hurt you feeling either, he’s very careful. However, with his own emotions however, he’s a little harsher. He doesn’t really like to show any of the more complicated emotions. And doesn’t always give himself much grace for feeling certain ways, he tends to repress.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? What are their hugs like?)

Only from you— he doesn’t really like other people getting friendly, unless he really really knows them, even then it’s different. He doesn’t get physical with other people unless it’s a “move— you’re in my way,” situation, but that doesn’t count as friendly.

Extremely handsy— he love to bring his arms around you, so he can completely hold you whilst hugging you. Whether it’s around your waist, shoulders, hips, etc., just depends how the hug is done. He also tends to stroke his hands when hugging you, up and down your arms, back, sides, thighs, wherever.

↳ he likes to nuzzle against your neck, during front or back hugs, with the bridge of his nose, or his lips. He also gives tender kisses while he has you so close. Not kisses with other intentions, just sweet loving kisses that make you smile. Sometimes he brings his hand under your jaw, to tilt your head just enough so he can kiss your lips.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

It takes time, but it’s not forever— when he knows he will tell you with no hesitation. He doesn’t debate telling you or worry about it being too bold, nope, he means it when he says it and he says it when he means it.

He also says it in different ways— it’s not always “those three words,” through his gestures and other phrases you hear I love you a lot.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Not if it’s someone you’ve known before him— he’s not intimidated by pervious friendships that predate your relationship.

When people flirt with you knowing he’s with you— he gets real jealous, real fast. Given that fancy occasions are kind of a routine thing, you’re around a lot of other people who want to flirt with you, and often do pretty openly. It’s rare that Zemo ever leaves your side, which helps, but that doesn’t stop people from trying, which he hates. Typically he just tries to keep you physically near, so he can be there to prevent it.

↳ one time he left to get you a drink and an old rival of his found you. Trying to be polite you remained in conversation, feeling fine until he caressed your shoulder. Almost immediately Zemo was back at your side. Handing you your drink civilly, with a “here you are, Darling,” he then glared at the man standing across from you. Not so subtly, Zemo slipped his arm around you, literally pushing off the unwanted hand and replacing it with his own. You leaned into him more, attempting to make a point, as Zemo continued giving a half smile half glare.

He doesn’t do much about it in aftermath— he’ll calmly admit to you that he was jealous, but he also gets you with “I understand why people want to talk, flirt, and be with you,” he shrugs, “you’re beautiful, they’d have to be blind not to see that, but yes,” he tilts his head, “but. . . I have to admit, there’s part of me that wants that only to myself, of course.” It makes you smile how calm he tries to keep himself, despite the frustration. It’s usually you who actually does anything after these type of conversations though.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Lightly running fingers up your neck— when he’s kissing you, he traces his fingers slowly up the side of your neck, until he reaches your jaw, there he strokes his thumb across your jawline.

Holding your hand— sometimes when you’re flirting with him, you like to get as close as possible without touching, he knows the game and subtly slips his fingers between yours, then he goes in for the kiss. He can feel your smile and your hands hold his tighter as you give in.

Hand kisses— he gives these whenever, wherever, and however often he can. It’s a cute way of showing affection in a very classy way. He uses them as hello / goodbye greetings, although typically you require more than a kiss on the hand for saying goodbye.

Soft, but turns into more— it starts out as a super sweet gentle kiss, but slowly you can feel it deepen, to which you usually break the kiss with a smile, “Helmut,” you laugh, holding onto his arms around you, as he moves his mouth to your neck, “I don’t have time for this,” you try to stop giggling.

As for himself— he loves the taste of you lips, so every time you kiss him, he adores it. However, there is a sweet spot at the base of his neck, that when you kiss there makes him stop mid sentence.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Fantastic— he’s actually perfect with kids. Maybe it’s past experience that plays into it, but he’s so sweet with kids. When they accidentally run into him, he gives a “be careful, little one,” before stepping out of their way. Something you’ve noticed is that he talks to them like they’re little adults, which is adorable.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Staying in bed— one way or another one of you convinces the other to stay in bed. Sometimes it’s him asking you to stay just a little bit longer, when you can’t, he understands and watches you get dressed, asking what your day looks like. / Other times it’s you compelling him that it’d be more fun to stay and cuddle with you.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Relaxing— it’s a calm, safe, and warm environment when you can both just relax from the day in each other’s arms. Sometimes you’ll lean back against him and ask what he’s reading, when he says Machiavelli, you smile and get cozy, “perfect, that sends me right off,” you close your eyes as he begins to read aloud.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

He’s not an open book— there’s a lot of history with him, some good, but also some bad. Even before the whole campaign to end Super Soldiers, he has a bit of a shady past, with his own military exploits. Some he’s made amends with, others he hasn’t.

Depends how much you already know— if you already know a good amount about him, 1). he’ll ask to even the playing field, so he can know you equally as well 2). he doesn’t mind you asking questions since you’re already aware of his general history.

Surface level stuff— interests, fascinations, favourite this-or-thats, he’s pretty open about though! He doesn’t mind sharing or talking about any of the casual topics about himself, it’s just the more personal stuff that takes time.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

He’s extremely patient— The only way you would know is by a facial expression. His looks give him away more than his words or attitude does.

↳ if you’re not getting along, he’s the first to apologise, and it’s not an “I’m sorry” end of conversation apology. It’s a well thought out apology, because you don’t argue about the little stuff, it’d have to be something big to get you at odds for a while.

Silently frustrated— even if he gets mad, he keeps his cool in circumstances. Never raises his voice, his tone just gets a little deeper.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

He remembers everything— seriously, he does not forget anything. You’re his number one priority, so of course he pays attention. Even if there’s something you just mention at random, he’ll remember it. Say you mention how you used to have/like/want something, there’s a good chance it’s showing up again.

He also asks— he’s genuinely curious about you and wants to know as much as he can about the person he’s in love with. So, he loves childhood stories, random details, and little quirks about you.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

The moment you said those three words— when you know everything about him, his past, his lifestyle, and you still decided to say I love you. And you still standing by it even though it meant waiting for him.

He also loves remembering the first time he saw you— he says he could never forget it, it was like a divine beauty just walked in.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you?)

Veryyy— he’s extremely protective of you, but not overbearing, he’s good a being distantly or subtly protective. In other words in public / at events / new places he keeps an eye on you, even if it’s from a distance.

He will literally do anything— there’s no limit with how far he’d go to protect you from anything or anyone, even if he knows he’s outmatched, he’ll find a way.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Dates— he puts a lot of effort into them, mainly trying to make it a perfect yet comfortable setting. So if you like quiet restaurants, that’s what he’ll find. If you like outdoors, he’ll find a stunning walkthrough garden, etc.

Celebrations— it’s always extravagant and grand and beautiful whenever you’re celebrating anything with him. He wants you to feel like the royalty he believes you are.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

How easy criminal life is for him lol— you love the fact that he surprised you with a real classic art piece for your birthday, but the exact details on how he got it isn’t as pretty. You frequently ask if there’s any other way he could make a living.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

He’s not vain— despite the fancy and classy lifestyle, he’s never thought himself as an individual of great beauty. He likes beautiful things, which is why he says he was so attracted to you, but personally he doesn’t think much of himself.

He cares though— it’s not like he doesn’t care whatsoever, which is why he’ll usually ask you “what do you think of this?” in regards to fashion. He wants to look nice for you, and he knows how to do that. But he’s not the guy to check himself in the mirror, or constantly fret about his looks.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

He doesn’t need a relationship— but that’s what makes your so special. Since he’s not the type to just constantly need someone to feel complete, the fact that he does need you make you and your relationship all the more important to him.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

He can crash literally anywhere— you’ve found him on the couch, on the floor, in a chair, and you have no idea why it’s a habit of his, but it is! And you have definitely addressed him about it before.

↳ walking in to his study, you found him asleep on the floor between the couch and coffee table, shaking your head and crouching down, you woke him up. Looking up to you, you asked, “Helmut, why are you sleeping on the floor?” / “Hmm- wh- I’m not on the floor, you’re on the floor,” he states sitting up, brining you into a hug with him.

749 notes · View notes

snackhobi · 4 years ago

Text

pairing: taehyung x reader / word count: 13.3k / genre: fluff, friends to lovers, smut (NSFW, 18+)

summary: you’re used to being in love with taehyung. you’ve had a lot of time to get good at it, after all—by this point you’re the world’s expert at keeping your less-than-platonic feelings hidden from him, what with the amount of practice you’ve had.

but then he signs up for a massage therapy course, because apparently you can never catch a break.

or: the one where taehyung gives you a full body massage and then some.

warnings: sexually explicit content, massage with a happy ending (literally 🤧), cursing, edible massage oil/lube, fingering (f), unprotected sex (be safe when you have sex please), multiple orgasms (f), oral sex (m), cum swallowing, pet names, body worship?, brief mention of shower sex

a/n: I swear this was meant to be pwp. this was literally meant to just be pwp with some massage shenanigans. and then I blinked and it had become a soft 13k fic which honestly… kicked my ass quite a bit. but I hope you enjoy it!! thank you as always to @hobi-gif for beta reading this and encouraging me and putting up with me changing this multiple times, what would I do without your support miss hope?

Taehyung goes through a lot of different phases.

He just finds so many things interesting. Photography, art, art history, music, fashion, thrift shopping; heck, there was even the time he got weirdly into making tea and became some sort of connoisseur, going through the whole rigmarole of buying the loose leaves and weighing them out, checking the temperature of the water, brewing for a precisely measured amount of time.

You still remember the look on his face when you said it all tasted like hot leaf water to you.

Because, of course, as one of Taehyung’s best friends and his roommate, you’re inevitably swept up in everything he does. You’re used to the weirdly acrid smell of photo development fluid and how cold dark rooms can get. You use phrases like chiaroscuro and sfumato to describe the simplest things after listening to Taehyung do the same for so long. You’ve lost count of the amount of times you’ve tripped over his saxophone case when he leaves it lying around the apartment. You regularly wear the baggy t-shirt with the face that Taehyung had painted on it—even if you still refer to it as the Squidward-House-Shirt despite the fact you know he was inspired by Basquiet and Schiele and not the Easter Island themed stone head that Squidward lives in.

You don’t mind getting dragged along with whatever he does, honestly; you don’t have time to attend every class, but go with him when you can. It’s always good to expand your horizons. You also love watching Tae’s face whenever he learns something new, the various expressions that flit across his features—from wide eyed excitement and eyebrow raising astonishment to the more solemn side that appears whenever he’s taking something in and thinking deeply about it, turning it over in his mind, mulling on it.

(You love watching Tae’s face all the time, actually, but that’s a whole other can of worms you’d rather keep shut.)

However, the latest course he’s signed up for is not one you’d been expecting.

“Massage therapy?” Your face twists in equal parts confusion and surprise.

Taehyung’s dropped this latest nugget of information while you’re cooking, trying to fry some rice while also peering at the phone screen that’s been thrust into your face. You’re not bad at multitasking, per se, but Taehyung’s iPhone is drifting so close that you’re almost cross-eyed and it’s blocking you from seeing what’s going on in the pan.

“I had a coupon,” he says, as if that explains everything. (It doesn’t.)

“Scooch,” you say, and he immediately moves so you can turn the gas off.

“Jiminie and Jungkookie say that my massages help with dance, and that's just from Youtube tutorials.” Taehyung continues to talk as you bustle around the tiny kitchen. He’s already set the table so now he’s free to watch you finish doing the rest of the work. “And Joon-hyung says I have the perfect hands for it.”

You fumble with the pan as you’re scooping the steaming rice into a large bowl, only just managing to save food from scattering everywhere. You’ve thought about Taehyung’s hands a lot, about how large and long fingered and beautiful they are, but he doesn’t need to know that.

“Really? Huh. That’s nice.” You stare at the pan, fixated on getting every grain of rice so you can avoid looking at Taehyung’s face. And hands. Which are still cupped around his phone. Which looks so small in his big, pretty grip.

Jesus Christ.

“It means I can give you massages if you ever start to get tense.” Taehyung sounds pleased, lovely grin on his face at the prospect of being able to rub his hands over you. As if that isn’t going to make every single one of your muscles lock up and turn you into some sort of coiled rope of a human being, which is the complete opposite of what a massage is supposed to achieve.

“Great.” Despite your inner turmoil, your voice is level and steady as you meticulously scrape the last grain of rice into the bowl, chasing the tiny fleck of white around the huge pan. Scrape, scrape, scrape. “Sounds fabulous. Can’t wait.”

Of course Taehyung would sign up to learn something that he could use to help his friends. He’s so big-hearted and loving. Big-hearted and loving and kind and funny and affectionate and beautiful and deep-voiced and so entirely overwhelming in every single way imaginable.

You do what you always do when confronted yet again with your all-consuming crush—you bottle that shit the fuck up until he’s not in the room.

And then you have a miniature breakdown at Pickles.

“I am going to die,” you whisper-scream. “He’s going to offer to massage me and he’s going to get a bottle of massage oil out and he’s going drizzle it onto his massive hands and I am going to fucking die.”

The bearded dragon cocks his head as he stares at you. Taehyung had come home with the reptile one day, tank and all, saying that someone on Facebook had been giving him away because they were moving house and could they just look after him for a little while, please, pretty please? Until they found a good home for him? Please?

That was over a year ago. (You’ve always been bad at saying no to Taehyung.)

“I hate my life,” you lament to the lizard, but then you hear the noisy flush of the toilet and know that Taehyung is going to emerge from the bathroom soon, so you have to wrap this miniature meltdown up pronto. “I wish I was a bearded dragon too, you know. All you do is get fed and sit under the heat bulb. Your life is so easy. You don’t even know what capitalism is.”

The silence you get from Pickles is far more support than you get from your human friends once you tell them. Yoongi just raises his eyebrows while Seokjin and Hoseok laugh outright in your face, just like they always do when you cry to them about Taehyung.

You need new friends. These ones are defective. (If only you’d kept the receipt so you could return them.)

“We learned how to do neck and shoulder massages today!” Taehyung says brightly after the first session.

You hum in response. You’re rewatching Pacific Rim together, cuddled up against Taehyung’s side, and you don’t have to turn your head to know what expression is on his face. There’ll be that little upturn to his lips, happiness at learning something new. That warmth in his eyes at being able to share it with you, even if you couldn't be there with him. Those little freckles on his face, under his eye, his nose, his lip; the one you’ve imagined kissing more times than you can count.

“My teacher says I have a natural talent with my hands,” he adds, and you’re so grateful that you can blame your sudden intake of breath on the scene that’s playing on the screen, as high stakes as it is.

“That’s nice,” you say, and mentally pat yourself on the back at keeping the strain out of your voice. You've had a lot of practice at this. “I’m not surprised, though. You’ve always been good at doing things with them.”

That’s not a euphemism. Taehyung’s always so careful when he makes things; you’d learned how to fold different origami patterns together, matching crane for crane, lotus for lotus, and he’d always been so delicate with his fingers. He’s always so careful and considerate with you, too, fingers splayed wide across your shoulder as he squeezes you closer to his side, leaving you breathless.

“I wish you could come too.” Taehyung sounds disappointed. “We always have so much fun together.”

For the first time in your life you’re grateful that your manager at Olive Chicken is such a hardass and won’t let you swap shifts, so you’d had to miss signing up for the massage course with Taehyung—because you know there’s no way you’d be able to keep it together if there was some sort of tandem practice in class or whatever. Your crush on him is filled with equal parts of tenderness and lust and you’re well aware of that. You’d rest your hands on the soft skin of Taehyung’s shoulders and back, the lust would overwhelm you, and you’d immediately burst into flames like some sort of demon stepping over the threshold of a church.

Why oh why did God have to make Kim Taehyung so hot?

Why oh why did God have to make you so… not?

You know Taehyung doesn’t see you in a romantic light at all. You’re grateful for this deep, platonic relationship you have, and you love him to pieces, but holy hell is it hard to walk around with Kim Taehyung looking the way he does and wanting to jump his bones while simultaneously being aware that it’s never going to happen. Whenever he smiles at you, or touches you, or holds you, it’s in exactly the same way as he treats any of his friends—and as happy as you are to be one of those friends, it also kind of kills you inside.

(Because you know you don’t have a chance, have never had a chance, and will never have a chance.)

The idea of offering to massage Taehyung is one that makes you want to melt into a puddle of horny goo. But when he offers to massage you, it’s because you’re a convenient practice partner who he’s comfortable with. It’s no big deal. You could strip naked and slather yourself up in oil and stand in front of him with your bosoms heaving and say ‘Have at me, big boy’ and Taehyung would say: ‘Sweet! A chance to practice deep tissue massage! Gee, thanks for being such a great pal!’

The kind of deep tissue you want Taehyung to massage is very different to whatever he’s talking about.

… Anyway.

You manage to avoid Taehyung using his apparently magic fingers on you for a surprising amount of time, though you’re kept up to date with his progress, because he shares everything with you and tells you about everything and you always, always listen. Because, more than being your crush, he’s one of your best friends and you love him.

Which is why you try your best to be gentle, graciously refusing his offer of a shoulder massage after he sees you wincing, even if with anyone else you’d just tell them to back off with zero hesitation.

“It’s fine,” you say, flapping a hand at him. “I just slept on it funny.”

“A massage would help! It won’t take long, I promise. Five minutes? Please?”

Taehyung’s looking at you with those big puppy eyes of his, pleading. You waver. You’re torn between being steadfast and avoiding a situation you’ve literally had nightmares about (Taehyung had offered to massage you, and you’d said yes, but then you’d fallen over as you were walking to him and suddenly a lasagne had appeared in your hands and you’d spilled it all down your shirt and he’d pointed and laughed and laughed and you’d felt so embarrassed that you’d woken up, cheeks burning), but then he pouts and you give in like the spineless and lovesick fool that you are.

“Five minutes,” you say, and Taehyung nods emphatically, looking pleased.

(You have the backbone of a chocolate éclair.)

You send quiet thanks to whatever God is listening when he doesn’t ask you to take your top off and doesn’t break out a bottle of scented oil. Instead he just asks for you to straddle a chair, clutching a plushie against your chest to cushion where it leans against the backrest, and tells you to get comfy.

“Just relax,” he says, as you desperately try to remember how your body works and coax it to relax like Taehyung wants you to. You fail miserably. You feel like a ball of rubber bands, each muscle a layer of tighter and tighter elastic that’s circled around you. “Lean forwards a little?”

At least Taehyung can’t see your face from this angle. You have no idea what sort of expression is twisting your features; consternation and horrified anticipation, probably. You're basically throttling your plushie, taking out your tension and frustration on the poor thing, Rilakkuma's placid face morphing into a twisted expression of sympathy under your grasping fingers.

“Perfect,” Taehyung says. The sound of praise in his deep voice has your insides turning into overheated syrup, hot and thick, dripping down and pooling between your legs. You hate yourself. Getting turned on by the most innocuous words from your best friend, really? Get it together.

The second you feel Taehyung's warm hands touch the back of your neck, your shoulders hunch up faster than a whiplash, a turtle sucking its head into its shell. Your friend laughs.

“This is the opposite of relaxing,” he says, voice warm with amusement.

“You surprised me.” You dig your nails into Rilakkuma's soft brown fur. Taehyung just thinks you're not used to being massaged, not that you're being weird because it's him that's touching you. Because he touches you a lot. He’s just never done it like this. “Sorry.”

“It's fine,” he replies, unruffled and oblivious. “Let me try again?”

You bite your lip, desperately trying to quell the mix of arousal and tension that’s churning in your stomach, begging your muscles to unwind. You’ve kept your crush a secret from him for this long, you can keep that energy up. (You have to keep that energy up.) “Um. Okay.”

You’re still tense when Taehyung puts his hands on you again. The touch is warm through your clothes, firm but careful, digging into the sharp line of tension laid across your shoulders; despite the way your heart is threatening to launch itself out of your chest, you start to loosen up, because holy shit that feels nice, actually.

You melt against Rilakkuma and smother the bear's face in your chest. “Your teacher wasn’t kidding when they said that you’re good with your hands,” you mumble.

You’ve never gotten a proper massage before but it feels so damn good that you can’t help but unwind, turning to jelly at the confident presses of Taehyung’s fingers and palms into the soft skin between your neck and shoulder. A little sigh spills past your lips when Taehyung starts to work at the part that’s been twinging after you lay crookedly on it, limbs akimbo in your sleep after a long night at work. “Oh, right there, Tae.”

Taehyung goes still for just a second before continuing, trailing his fingers over your shirt. “Here?”

Your eyes have drifted shut so you can focus on the sensation of that tension being pulled out of your body. “Yeah, right there,” you repeat, massaged into a state of lazy euphoria. The breath you let out is long and deep, catching in the back of your throat at a particularly firm rub of Taehyung’s hands; if you weren’t so blissed out you might be embarrassed at how much the noise you make is like a moan, but as it is, you don’t even notice. You just let out a little sound of discontent when Taehyung’s fingers stutter in their motions, displeased that he’s stopped even for a second.

By the time the massage is over, you’re so relaxed that you feel like you could melt into the floor, a wobbly puddle of unwound muscles and loose limbs. It’s official. You’re a massage convert.

“Holy shit.” Your eyes flutter open as you lean away from Rilakkuma so you can turn around. They’re the first coherent words you’ve spoken for a while; small sighs and sounds have been dripping from your lips and it’s only now that you’re able to regain your breath. “Tae, that was amazin—”

You’re met with the sight of Taehyung’s back as he power walks away, steps rapid, a little shaky, awkward. Before you can ask what’s wrong, he’s stepping into the bathroom.

“I need to wash my hands,” he says without looking at you, before the door slams shut.

You don’t remember Tae telling you about how quickly you have to wash your hands after finishing a massage. But, thinking about it, you suppose it makes sense—you know, with massaging multiple clients or whatever—even if it’s surprising exactly how fast he’d hoofed it away from you. It sounds like he’s switched both taps on full blast as well, noisy even through the wooden door, and judging from how long he’s in there, he’s being very thorough. Hand washing must be a lot more important than you’d realised.

Once Taehyung emerges, his face is a little flushed, cheeks a soft red. You wonder if the hot water tap is playing up again and filling your dinky bathroom with hot steam, and make a mental note to look into it. You smile at Taehyung from your perch on the sofa, Rilakkuma plopped on your lap, smile spread across your features; one that Taehyung returns, as pink-faced as he is.

“How’s your shoulder feeling?”

“So much better, honestly,” you admit. It’s incredible. He hasn’t even finished the course yet and he's already this good. He really does have magic hands.

“I’ll have to give you massages more often,” Taehyung says, though the end of the sentence trembles a little. He must be light-headed after all the steam in the bathroom.

The thought of more massages doesn’t fill you with as much mind-numbing trepidation as it might have earlier, utterly languid as you flop across the sofa, muscles uncoiled after the lovely touch of Taehyung’s even lovelier hands. No wonder people rave about spa days if they leave you feeling like this. Maybe if you’d been staring at Taehyung in the eye when he’d been touching you, then you’d feel a lot more awkward—as it is, it’s no worse than usual. Your crush is still all-encompassing but you also got a massage out of it, so.

“Sounds great.” This time you don’t even have to fake your excitement. “Now come sit your butt down so we can order some takeout and decide what to watch.”

When you bend down to speak to Pickles later, the bearded dragon is lolling on his favourite branch. “There’s still a high chance that I’m going to die,” you say in a low voice, before you flick the lights off so the lizard can sleep. “But he hasn’t broken out the oils yet, so I think I’ll be okay for now.”

Your luck doesn’t last.

“Strawberry and champagne, lychee martini, mint mojito, white chocolate, or tropical coconut?”

You look up from where you’re painting your toenails. “Huh?”

Taehyung bundles into the room and throws himself onto your bed, flopping on his belly and ignoring the way the mattress is jostled. You, of course, are used to his antics, which is why you’d swept your open bottle of nail polish up before he could spill it everywhere.

“What do you think sounds best?”

“Well, that depends,” you say, squinting at your toes and carefully sweeping the polish over the freshly buffed nails. “For candles, I think they sound pretty nice. For sauces to pour over a steak, I’d say I’d give them all a hard pass. What’s it for?”

“Massage oils,” Taehyung says blithely, too busy staring at his phone to see you muffle a curse when your hand slips and you paint your entire little toe blue. “I was wondering which you think sounds best.”

“Oh. Uh.” You fumble to clean your toe and salvage the now-terrible pedicure you’re trying to give yourself. It was only a matter of time before massage oils were going to become part of your life. Taehyung never goes into things half-hearted, so of course he’s going to invest in oils, too. God’s sake. You can never catch a break, can you? “Why these ones in particular?”

Taehyung pauses for a suspiciously long time, but it gives you the chance to furiously rub at your toe while he’s distracted. “We get a free bottle from the course,” he says eventually.

Huh. Okay. “That’s pretty neat. What was the last one? Coconut? Stick with the basics, can’t go wrong with that, right?”

“Coconut is always tasty,” Taehyung comments absently, and you glance up from your Smurf toe.

“Agreed, but it’s not like you’re about to eat massage oil, are you?”

Taehyung pauses, and then buries his face into his phone screen—suddenly very intent on rereading the list of ingredients in each bottle, it seems. “No, of course not, you’re right,” he mumbles.

He’s almost finished the course. He’s not going to be an accredited masseuse or anything, but you definitely think he could be, if he wanted to—you’ve never had less tension in your shoulders and neck in your life. Taehyung always eases his way into your personal space anyway, casual and effortless after years of friendship, but now you’re used to his fingers sliding over the back of your neck, a gliding touch, sending tense little goosebumps over your skin while simultaneously making you melt.

“It’s pretty cool that you get free stuff, though.” Your toe is clean, thankfully, no longer blue. “And not just, like, a generic bottle of oil or something. They all sound really fancy. I didn’t realise that you could get massage oils that were scented like that?”

Taehyung makes a non-committal noise, which is uncharacteristic of him, but you’re too focused on repainting your final nail to pay it too much mind, letting out a loud huff of triumph when you’re done.

“Get me a bag of shrimp crackers, please?” You have a sudden craving but you don’t want to penguin waddle to the kitchen and risk getting anything on your wet nails. “Ya girl is hungry.”

“Got it.” Taehyung rolls off the bed without protest. You’re used to his antics, and he’s used to yours, indulging you whenever you feel lazy or want him to do something for you. “You need me to feed you?”

“I wasn’t going to use my toes to feed myself,” you laugh, but Taehyung ends up feeding them to you anyway.

When you recount the list to Seokjin later, his face crumples in a way that’s equal parts offended and disgusted. “They all sound terrible,” he says. “White chocolate should stay in chocolate form and not be turned into an oil. Why does massage oil even have to smell like anything?”

You’re both holed up in the tiny smoking nook behind Olive Chicken; neither of you smoke, but it’s a good excuse to go outside and get fresh air during longer shifts.

“Hey, don’t ask me, I’m not the one who’s taking the course. I think lychee martini sounds interesting, though.”

“Agree to disagree.” Seokjin unwraps one of the complimentary chocolates the restaurant gives to diners with their bill, swallowing it whole. “Besides, we all know Taehyung could approach you with dirty, used fryer oil and you’d let him dip you in it.”

You slap the next chocolate out of his hand before it reaches his mouth. He’s unmoved and simply plucks another from his pocket, which is apparently bulging with them.

“Yoongichi,” Jin says, calling to the delivery boy, who’s just appeared from the dark like some tired-eyed spectre of fried chicken. “Tell me this. If I were to ask you what smell of massage oil you’d prefer, what—”

“I would say that I really could not care less.” Yoongi flops down on one of the rickety fold-out chairs before silently accepting a chocolate from Seokjin’s stash. “And then I’d ask why you’re asking me in the first place, seeing as you’re the one using it, not me. If Taehyung’s asking what massage oil you’d prefer, Y/n, it’s because he wants to rub it all over you specifically.” Yoongi munches on the chocolate, already filling in the blanks without needing to be told the context. You really are that transparent, huh. “Please, we’ve been over this.”

Jin pouts. “You ruined my set up. I had a whole speech prepared.”

“Oh no.” Yoongi remains blank-faced. “How terrible.”

“I hate both of you,” you say. “I’m going to tell Pickles how mean you are.”

“I bet if that lizard could talk, he’d tell you how tired he was of you two dancing around each other, just like the rest of us,” Yoongi says.

There’s no dancing around, though, no matter what your friends say. Well. Not on Taehyung’s end anyway. You’re out here doing the fandango, castanets and all, while Taehyung just stands stock still, oblivious.

You let out an incredibly long sigh. Seokjin hands you a sympathetic chocolate.

The massage oil doesn’t make an appearance in your life for a little while, though. The end of the course comes and goes, Taehyung proudly flapping the laminated certificate at you, wobble-wobble-wobble, filling the apartment with the sound of rippling plastic. But no coconut oil.

The scent of ‘tropical coconut’ has started to haunt your dreams, in a way that’s both good and bad; when you wake up in a sweat, heart pounding, it’s not because you’re having nightmares, let’s just put it like that. It’s like there’s an invisible countdown that you can’t trace and it’s only a matter of time before it ticks over and the shoulder massages (that you’ve gotten very comfortable with) edge into something different. Taehyung’s going to innocently offer to give you a backrub and uncap that bottle of scented oil and you’re going to explode into a mess of putty under his hands.

Well… then again… you had been worried about that with all the shoulder rubs. Now look at you. You weather those like a champ. Sure, your skin tingles and you run hot and you think about the sensation of Taehyung’s hands gliding over you whenever you’re alone, but you’re basically fine. Your friend who just so happens to also be the great love of your life remains none the wiser.

You bet a full back rub would feel great after a long week.

Which is why when Taehyung steps into the apartment with a look on his face that you immediately recognise as tiredness, you sort of wish you knew how to massage people, too.

He falls into your arms with little fanfare. It’s been one of those days, one of those ones that everyone gets, even Taehyung—he’s usually so Switched On and Exuberant and Alive, and people don’t seem to realise that even he feels exhausted, sometimes.

“You alright, bubs?” You can’t massage him but you can rub his back soothingly, let him snuffle against your neck. Sometimes you think about that little space between your chin and collarbones as Taehyung’s, a hollow that’s perfect for him to press his face into, hair tickling your chin as he curls up into you. His and his alone. “Did something happen?”

He just shakes his head.

“Okay,” you say.

(Close proximity and skin on skin with Taehyung doesn’t always have your pulse rising and your heart racing. Sometimes it’s just this: quiet and soft, your heart bright with fierce affection for this boy, the only thought in your mind that you want him to be happy, forever.)

The long silence is broken by the sound of Taehyung heaving in a breath before letting out a long, exhausted sigh.

“Thank you.” His voice is quiet and low, far less energetic than his usual self.

“Nothing to thank me for, Tae,” you reply. “Always here for you. You know that, right?”

He doesn’t respond straight away. He just burrows closer, draped over you, until he murmurs, barely audible. “Why?”

Your face twists. “Why, what? Why am I always here for you?”

“Yeah.” Taehyung squeezes himself impossibly closer, skin warm against yours, forehead pressed to the skin of your neck. You can’t see his expression from this angle.

“Because you’re one of my best friends and I love you,” you answer, immediately. You don’t even have to think about it. “Because you’re important to me and if there’s anything I can do for you, I will. I’ll celebrate the good things in your life with you, and I’ll be at your side during the bad times, just like you are with me. Please don’t ever forget how much I love you, okay?”

There’s a pause, and then it feels like all the tension leaves Taehyung’s body, slumping his whole body weight against you. “Okay,” he murmurs. “I love you too. Thank you,” he says again. You just reply by squeezing his shoulders.

He’s a little quieter for a few days after that. You’re not sure why, because he’d perked up after a lazy evening of lying around and eating too many snacks, flopped against you like an oversized, clinging starfish—but you’re gentle with him nonetheless.

(Well. You’re always gentle with him. It just takes you half a second to fold in the face of his whims, rather than a whole, full second.)

So when the dreaded bottle of oil finally appears, you’re far less ready to fight off Taehyung’s insistence on a full body massage, caught off guard after days of indulging him. Fuck.

“You’ve had a long week!” Taehyung insists as you scrabble your way over the sofa’s backrest so you can hide behind it, clutching a cushion to your chest. “You need to relax!”

Without looking you fling the cushion over the sofa. Judging from the fact that Taehyung doesn’t make a sound, you’ve missed. “I was feeling perfectly relaxed until you started yelling at me about it! Why are you so obsessed with the idea of me being relaxed?”

Taehyung doesn’t respond. Oh, crap. Maybe you did hit him with the cushion?

You pop up from behind the sofa. Nope. It's an embarrassing distance away from Taehyung, who’s got that surprisingly large bottle of oil held loosely in his hands. There’s an expression on his face that you can’t decipher; a little crestfallen, a little unsure, but there’s something else there, too, something you can’t put a name to.

“Taehyung?”

“I just… wanted to help,” he says. “You’re always there for me when I’m not feeling great, and you calm me down, and I wanted to do the same for you.”

You immediately feel like the worst human being alive. Take the feeling you get whenever you accidentally step on an animal’s tail, multiply it by infinity, and that’s only just a drop in the ocean of awful, awful guilt that you’re drowning in.

“Oh, Tae,” you say. Your voice comes out so much softer and sweeter than you mean it to, but you can't help it. “I’m sorry. I was just joking. It’s really nice of you to be so concerned. You just surprised me. You do help me relax and your massages are great.” (You tell him that often enough that he should know it, but it never hurts to repeat a compliment.)

His face lifts. It’s like the sun bursting forth from the clouds after heavy rain, and you have to resist the urge to shield your eyes, blinded by the brightness and beauty. Kim Taehyung is so unfairly gorgeous (but what else is new?). “So I can give you a massage?”

Despite the fact the prospect makes you want to fling yourself into space, when you’re faced with Taehyung’s dark eyes and wide smile and large, warm hands, you cave, because of course you do. If, way back when you’d first been frying up that kimchi rice and letting Taehyung thrust his phone into your face, you’d been told you’d end up in this position, you would have laughed outright. Haha, yeah, sure, like you’d be stupid enough to let yourself be wrangled into such a vulnerable state in front of Taehyung, nowhere to run, helpless under his fingers. Not.

But here you are. Whipped for Kim Taehyung, forever and always.

The pastel blue towels under your stomach and chest are soft as they shield you from the cold, hard floor. You’re incredibly aware of how chilly the apartment feels, air prickling against your bare skin; you shift to try and get comfortable, glancing over your shoulder to fiddle with the towel that’s draped over your hips and ass, making sure it’s covering everything. Taehyung insists on authenticity (as if you’re not lying on the floor of your apartment rather than on a massage table) and he says that it’s normal to be completely naked for a full-body massage, even underneath any towels that are covering you up.

Authenticity is also why he’s in the other room, warming up the massage oil, because that’s apparently a thing?

(You’re going to die.)

It doesn’t matter that Taehyung will only be able to see the back of your head, your shoulder blades, the small of your back, a slip of your thighs, your calves. None of these things are especially scandalous; all the parts of your body that someone might find more interesting are out of sight, pressed against the floor or hidden under a layer of Egyptian cotton microfibres.

And yet you can’t help but be hyperaware of how you’re entirely unclothed. Even if it doesn’t bother Taehyung—what with, you know, the fact he’s not interested in you like that and doesn’t find you attractive at all (sigh)—embarrassment creeps hot and uncomfortable under your skin.

It just feels so crazy intimate to be laid out like this, even if people do this all the time, happily strip down to let professionals rub the tension out of their body.

(Then again, most people aren’t best friends with their masseuses and haven’t harboured long, one-sided crushes on them, either.)

Just breathe. You can do this. You love the shoulder massages that Taehyung’s been giving you; just think of this as a shoulder massage.

… A shoulder massage that involves warm oil, near-nakedness, and Taehyung’s hands sliding all over you.

… You are going to have a very long venting session with Pickles after all this.

You’re so distracted by your own self pity and distress that you don’t register the sound of Taehyung entering the room; the little pause when he steps over the threshold, feet stuttering, just for a moment. It’s only when he’s kneeling down that you notice his presence, body jolting from surprise before you let out a slip of high laughter.

“Jesus, Tae,” you say. In any other circumstance, you’d be clutching your chest. “You scared me.”

“Sorry.” He sounds genuinely apologetic.

Your cheek is pillowed on your arms. When you turn to look at your best friend you immediately regret it; he’s settled back on his ankles, knees spread wide, and you come eye-to-eye with his crotch.

In an effort to look away from his clothed dick, your gaze flies up to his face, which might be even worse. He has this intense look in his eyes, and wow, alright, you’ve never been able to see Taehyung’s face as he’s been massaging you, but you never realised exactly how seriously he seems to take it, judging from his expression.

(Do all massage therapists look like that when they work?)

“That’s alright.” You’re a little breathless, but you’re going to blame that on how your boobs are smooshed into the floor, and not on anything else, nuh uh. Shoulder massage. It’s a shoulder massage. It’s just like a full bodied shoulder massage. (Maybe if you repeat it to yourself often enough then you’ll actually start to believe it.) “Uh. Do you need me to… do anything? Or do I just lie here?”

Taehyung’s expression lightens a little at the uncertainty in your tone, smile curling up the corners of his mouth. “You’re perfect right where you are,” he says, and then he reaches for the bottle of oil.

You turn your head away again, cheeks burning. There’s no way you’ll be able to handle the visual of him slicking his fingers and palms up. “Cool,” you say, voice only a little strained. “Coolcoolcoolcool.”

(It’s not cool.)

You don’t have a visual, but you do get the auditory experience thanks to the relative silence in the apartment. Goosebumps ripple down the back of your neck and trail down your spine at the sound of Tae’s hands sliding against each other, thoroughly coated in the warmed oil, and you’re so glad that you can blame it on the chill in the air.

At first, it’s okay. Taehyung starts at the parts of your body that are used to receiving his attention, though it’s different without the barrier of clothing in the way, not to mention how easily his palms glide over you, the air full of the light scent of coconut. It’s different, but manageable, and you think you just might be okay; as always, his touches are firm but careful, and your body is used to this by now, relaxing.

But. The second you feel Taehyung’s touch between your shoulder blades, you stiffen with a shiver. The oil is the perfect temperature against your skin, but you’ve always had a sensitive back; you can’t help but clench your fists, digging your fingers into your palms. Relax. Just breathe.

“You’ve got a lot of tension here.” Taehyung’s voice is low as he digs the heel of his palm into the dip of your spine.

It’s because you’re touching me there, you think to yourself, but just let out a non-committal hum of agreement instead.

You feel Taehyung's hands, a repeated sliding motion between your shoulder blades; the tension starts to leak out of you again, but your breath hitches in your throat at how you're pressed downwards and into the cotton towels beneath you, nipples hardening against them.

Thank God you're on your front so Tae can't see what effect he's having on you.

“Better?”

Taehyung's voice is always deep, but you'd swear it was even deeper in this moment, pitched low. Maybe that’s because the sound of blood pumping is filling your ears so it’s hard to discern. At this point, who even knows? Not you, that’s for sure.

“Yep.” Why are you so breathless? You haven’t moved at all, but you sound like you’ve just run the 100m sprint, winded and weak. ��So much better.”

You regret agreeing to this. You are so out of your depth and there’s no way you’re going to be able to hide exactly how much this is affecting you and you want to collapse in on yourself and shrivel up like a sundried tomato, tiny and wrinkly and underwhelming.

Taehyung shifts to reach more of you and you squeeze your eyes shut so you don’t come face first with his crotch again, shielding yourself from the view of his loose linen trousers stretched almost taut with how wide his knees are. It’s both a blessing and a curse—a blessing because you’re saved from aforementioned view, but a curse because your sensation of touch is heightened, and all you’re aware of is his hands sliding down your sides. You’d swear those fingers were so long he could circle your waist with ease.

(Massages are meant to relax you and yet you’ve never felt so tense in your life.)

Taehyung clicks his tongue against the back of his teeth. “I can’t get a good angle like this,” he mutters.

Before you can think anything or say anything, you become aware of the sound of moving and shifting and—

Your eyes fly open. Taehyung’s straddling your thighs, heavy and warm, and you suck in a breath so sharp and fast you can feel your chest expand, brain full of the screaming clang of warning bells. There’s no way this is a normal masseuse thing. There’s no way. It’s intimate and entirely too physical and there’s absolutely no way that this is something Taehyung learned in class.

(What is he doing?)

But then any coherent thought in your brain slips when his hands settle on you again.

They so, so lightly brush the hem of the towel that preserves your modesty, and you can’t help the full-body shiver that wracks through you. You suck your lips into your mouth, swallowing down the noise that threatens to bubble up in your throat. There’s the sensation of fingers trailing up the line of your spine, feather light, smoothed by the slide of oil, and you feel like molten lava, burning hot and bright.

“Taehyung.” Your voice is high and faint.

His fingers splay down your ribcage and run down your sides, confident and smooth, warm with that coconut-scented oil, and you’re dying, you’re living; you want to disappear, you never want this to end.

“Taehyung,” you repeat. Your voice shakes.

He hums, low and indulgent. “Yes?”

“M-my thighs,” you stammer, unable to articulate yourself. Why are you on my thighs, oh God, you’re so warm and heavy on top of me, oh God oh God oh God.

Taehyung completely misunderstands you. “Oh? Of course.” He sounds nonchalant. “I’ll massage those next.”

You can feel the drag of his linen trousers against your skin as he moves down to rest on your calves, and hear the bottle open as Taehyung drizzles more oil over his hands, far more than he could possibly need. His palms feel so broad and warm against the smoothness of your thighs, touches firm and confident as he digs his fingers into the muscle, and, oh, fuck, this is, this is too much—

Your legs jump when Taehyung hitches the towel up, just a little, baring more of your body.

“Fuck.” You can't keep quiet any longer. “Tae, I’m fine, I’m feeling way less tense now.”

He’s still, for a moment, before his hands slide up the back of your thighs. “Are you sure? You want me to stop?”

It’s only then that you realise how deeply Taehyung is breathing, fast and low, voice rough and gravelled. His fingers rest in wait, warm and slick with oil; you’re so close to losing any modicum of modesty, only one motion away from that towel being rucked high enough that there’s nothing protecting you from Taehyung’s touch and eyes.

“I haven’t finished yet, though,” he continues, digging his thumbs into your skin as he pulls his hands down your thighs, mindlessly following the motions he’s been taught. “There’s still more to go.”

You could twist around to look at him but you’re almost afraid to look at his face, afraid of what you’d find there. He sounds as affected as you are, but there’s absolutely no way. There’s no way.

“You don’t need to do the whole massage if I’m feeling relaxed, right?”

(Because you’re feeling so relaxed right now, of course, and not like you’re about to go supernova and burst into heat and light. Absolutely.)

(But.)

(But. Taehyung’s hands settle at the back of your knees, swiping the sensitive skin with his thumbs. You can’t see his face, but you can feel something in that touch, something more than skin deep, like it’s sinking into you, through skin and muscle and bone, in in in, settling inside you, a flicker of—of—)

“Want to do this perfectly for you,” he murmurs. You clench your hands at the husky note in his voice, nails digging so hard into your palms it hurts. “You deserve the best. I want you to feel good.”

He must be able to see your back rise and fall as you breathe in sharply.

“Taehyung.” Almost pleading.

“Yes, love?”

You suck in another sharp breath. The pet name sounds so soft and sweet in his mouth, somehow, even with the heated edge to his voice. One that’s definitely there. You’re not imagining it.

(You’re not.)

“Do you want me to make you feel good?” he continues.

Before you can think, you nod.

“Yes,” you whisper. “Please.”

You’re trembling. Taehyung’s still heavy and warm across the back of your calves, sliding one hand to the inside of a knee and up the soft skin of your inner thighs. You instinctively shift them apart, as far as you can with Taehyung trapping your legs, and, oh, his hand is going higher, oh—

His hand is so big, cupping your overheated sex. It’s hard to tell where the oil ends and your own arousal begins, flushed wet and hot; when he dips his middle finger between your lower lips, long and gentle and firm, you let out a noise you didn’t realise you were capable of. The angle is off, a little awkward, the motions of Taehyung’s fingers stifled by how you’re lying flush to the ground, but God, you’re so turned on it barely matters.

You’re hyperaware of everything. The soft touch of air on the cooling oil across your skin. The fall of the towel, bunched around your waist, slowly slipping to one side. Taehyung’s hand, his fingertips easing through the heat of you, sliding over your clit, over your entrance, slow and soft and amazing.

“Again,” you plead. “Again, Tae, please.”

“Feels good?” He asks, and you squeeze your eyes shut as you nod, cheek still pillowed against your arm.

“So good,” you say. “But I want more, please, Tae.”

“Anything you want,” he murmurs.

Taehyung’s hand shifts between your legs again, so hot, so big, so reverent. The slide is smooth as his fingers press into your folds, practically gliding. You twist beneath him, letting out a noise of displeasure when he draws his hand away, but then he lifts off your calves. You let him thrust your legs apart before he resettles between them.

Just as you’re distracted with the towel being tugged away from your hips, baring you entirely, Taehyung slides a finger into your weeping cunt.

You whine. It's so long. Now that your calves aren’t trapped, there’s nothing to stop you from rutting back against his fingers. He splays his other hand over the soft flesh of your ass, encouraging the rolling motion of your hips, and you’re gasping, wanton in your noises of desire and pleasure. One finger becomes two, and then three, Taehyung’s voice a low undercurrent to your stuttered moans as he presses them as deep as he can.

“Just like that, angel,” he breathes. “Want you to feel good, keep making those pretty noises, let me know how good it is—”

“Taehyung,” you whine, dragging the syllables of his name out when he curls his fingers inside you, so amazing, hitting you in all the right places.

“Baby.” He sounds wrecked, words sliding together, and you haven’t even touched him yet. “You’re so hot n’ wet, fuck. So perfect. Just like that, keep moving like that.”

You can hear the slick sounds of his thrusts into you. He’s already learned what you like, twisting his fingers in a way that leaves you breathless; they’re so fucking long, sliding into your greedy cunt with ease, reaching so much deeper than your own can. His pretty lovely hands are on you, inside you, and you’re heady at the thought.

“There, Tae, don’t stop, please, p-please.” The coil twists tighter in between your legs, a taut thread that’s ready to snap. He listens, repeating the motion that’s pulling you closer to the edge, eyes wide, staring at the way you’re writhing underneath him; the way the oil on your back and legs shimmers in the light, the evidence of his touch all over you, shining. “Tae, oh, God, right there, yes, yes, yes—”

Your entire body goes tense and then you’re cumming around Taehyung’s fingers, clenching your thighs together, trapping him inside as you buck your hips. You grind back against his hand, a loud moan falling from your lips, drowning out the noise of awe that Taehyung makes when he feels your walls pulsate around him. You're warm and tight and wet, arousal flooding thick against his skin, and he lets out a stuttered groan, fingers buried knuckle deep inside you, feeling every wave of pleasure that rocks through your core.

You’re panting by the time you settle back down and barely make a sound when Taehyung drags his fingers out of you. When he leans down the oil on your skin feels tacky against his clothes, material sticking to you, chest to back, hips to ass. You can feel the hot curve of him through his trousers, his cock heavy, getting harder—and it feels sososo good.

Taehyung’s face is so close, now, chin hooked over your shoulder. Even though you can feel the hardness of his cock pressed against you, the smile on his face is so gentle. Your heart thrums in your chest.

“So cute n' pretty,” he says, and presses his nose to the soft curve of your cheek. Rather than coconut, all you can smell is his shampoo, familiar and homely and heady. “All over. God, I can’t believe you’d let me touch you like this. I’m so lucky. Was that good, baby?”

“Yes,” you say, and then, because you’re still floating in a light haze of disbelief: “I’m the lucky one.”

Taehyung laughs, low and quiet. It’s a honeyed moment, dripping slow and sweet, even sweeter when he tilts his head forward. His lips are soft against your cheekbone, your jaw, and when you turn towards him, they’re even softer against your mouth. You can feel the shape of his smile, and it tastes so bright, small kisses that turn open mouthed, so perfect. Because you’re kissing Kim Taehyung, your Taehyung, something you’ve been dreaming about for so long, now—even if this entire situation is pretty unbelievable, honestly.

When you pull back, his eyes spark with unadulterated joy. He’s warm and heavy, pinning you down against the towels that are soft against your front; arching your spine, you lean back against the weight of Taehyung’s body, his cock fattening up through the layers of clothes that separate you. He lets out a breath of surprise before he grinds down, pressing that hard heat against you, and your cunt clenches.

“Can I finish the massage?” He asks, sounding almost eager, even with the rasp of lust in his voice. You can’t help but laugh, an affectionate giggle that has you knocking your foreheads together.

“Of course,” you say, and he catches your lips again, swallowing the last of your laughter, sweeping his tongue over your lips, inside your mouth, wet and hot and a little messy, but good.

“You need to be on your back,” Taehyung continues, slow after the kiss is broken, and, oh, okay, that has you shivering. “If you want to?”

Of course you want to.

“Okay,” you whisper. “Let me move.”

He shifts to give you room, but not before pressing a kiss to the back of your neck, the bump of the top of your spine, lips sliding against the oil that he’d rubbed there earlier, goosebumps erupting over your skin.

“So good to me,” he whispers. You don’t think he even means for you to hear it.

(It’s said without thought; not thoughtless, no, but a soft little thing that says so much. A thought that’s slipped across his mind and fallen from his lips, warm and tender. Like you’re always good to him, and he sees it, he knows it, he feels it, he thinks it, and he’s almost in disbelief about it, because you’re so good to him.)

You feel warm and languid after cumming, loose-limbed as you flop onto your back. There’s no going back now. There’s no going back from this moment, naked and vulnerable under Taehyung, nothing hidden away any more—the soft fall of your breasts, your stomach, the lines of your hips, your fingers tightening in the towels spread beneath you as Taehyung’s eyes drink you in, wide and overawed at the sight of your flushed cunt, ripe and slick and ready for him.

(There's no more hiding how much you want Taehyung to have you, body and heart alike.)

You can see the shape of your body silhouetted on his clothes, where the oil has seeped into the material from how close he’d been pressed against you. You can see just how affected he is, cock straining against the loose linen of his white trousers, and you bite your lip to try and stifle the sound you make.

“Look at you,” Taehyung breathes, kneeling between your legs. “You’re so perfect.”

Your cheeks burn. “Taehyung, please,” you say, embarrassed. You really aren’t, especially in comparison to model-gorgeous Kim Taehyung, eyes dark and full of heated lust, hair falling in his eyes, effortlessly beautiful, always.

“You are,” he insists. “You have no idea how perfect you are.”

Before he reaches for the massage oil, he sucks the taste of you off his fingers, sloppy and messy. Your pussy throbs at the sight. And—you were also right about the visual being too much to handle, breath catching in your throat as you watch it drip into his broad hands. His palms shine as he rubs them together, interlacing his fingers, so graceful in their motions. You’re so wet from your orgasm, only getting wetter as you stare back at Taehyung, whose gaze has been heavy on you the whole time.

He starts at your collarbones. It’s even slower than before, and you ease underneath him, revelling in the softness of his touch. He sweeps his hands over your shoulders, down your arms, circling his long fingers around your wrists before lifting one of your hands. Your eyelashes flutter as he presses a kiss to your palm, a motion so full of adoration and tenderness it steals your breath away, and you squirm, shy.

“Tae,” you whine. “You can’t just do that.”

Of course he doubles down, lifting your other hand and repeating the motion, letting his lips linger between your head line and your heart line. “I can,” he says, words warm in your cupped palm.

“I hope you didn’t do this in class.” Your voice is too weak for it to come out as the joke you mean it to be.

Taehyung just shakes his head, mouth brushing over the tips of your fingers. “Only for you,” he says. “Did the whole class for you. I wanted—wanted an excuse to touch you more,” he admits, and your heart feels like it’s going to launch itself out of your throat.

“Then touch me,” you say, trying to sound confident even if your cheeks burn.

And he does. He lets your hands drop, gliding his touch back up your arms, down your body, over your legs; he massages your thighs and calves, digs his thumbs into the arches of your feet, circling his fingers around your ankles, shackles you don’t want to escape from. You feel so relaxed and lax, somehow, even if every touch has you biting your lip, anticipation roiling in your stomach for what’s to come, Taehyung laying your legs down softly before he shifts back up, hands held out towards you—

—then he cups your breasts in his big, big hands and your back arches, fingers sliding over your nipples, glistening with coconut oil, circling them with the pads of his thumbs. You let out an embarrassing whine.

“Oh, Tae,” you beg. “More, please.”

“Whatever you want, sweetheart.”

You smile at another soft, unexpected pet name, flustered, but then your eyes slide shut when Taehyung bends down to kiss your neck as he continues to run his hands over the swell of your breasts. He trails his lips over your oiled skin, shifts down, drawing a line from your neck to the valley of your chest, the hard line at the center of your ribcage.

“Tae,” you murmur, and then, feeling bold under the heat of Taehyung’s dark eyes— “Baby.”

He hums before laying another sloppy kiss against your sensitive skin. You can feel the curve of his smile in the kiss. “Yes, love?”

“Is it really okay for you to… you know… get that oil in your mouth? I don’t want you to get sick,” you say, concerned, even through the haze of your arousal. His lips shine with it, at how he’s been trailing his mouth over all the parts of your body that he’s touched.

There’s a short beat, and then Taehyung buries his head against your neck—in that little hollow that’s his, in a motion he’s done dozens of times. Except this time you’re naked and he still has fingers splayed across the soft skin of your chest, nipples dragging underneath his palms.

“You’re always so considerate.” His words are muffled against your skin. “It’s fine. It’s edible.”

“You got edible massage oil from your course?”

Taehyung hesitates. “No,” he admits. “I bought it. It’s edible and, uh. Safe for intimate use.”

You’re silent, just for a moment, and then you can’t help it. You start to laugh.

“Kim Taehyung,” you say, body shaking with amusement. “Did you buy edible massage oil that you can also use as lube?”

Taehyung pulls his face away from your neck and glances up. You’re giggling at him, and he feels so full of love and affection; he can’t help but join in, both laughing at him, loud and carefree.

“It’s why I asked which one you liked,” he confesses, once he can catch his breath.

“I can’t believe you lied to me,” you say, but you don’t mind, really, and he knows it. You lift a hand to push hair out of his face, running your fingers down his scalp. He leans into your touch with a smile, bright and lovely, before he abruptly shifts one of his hands down so he can lick a hot, wet stripe across the skin of your breast.

That stops your laughter pretty fast, surprised hiccup shifting into a broken moan when he engulfs your nipple in the heat of his mouth. “O-oh,” you gasp. “Oh, Taehyung—”

“Been thinking about this for so long.” Taehyung’s eyes are lidded and dark as he leans back, watching the way you react to his touch, arching up towards him. “Wanted to touch you like this so much.”

“Wanted it too,” you breathe. “Wanted—oh, God, Tae, fuck—”

It’s overwhelming. Not just the way Taehyung is flicking his tongue over each of your nipples, pressing his lips against your skin, no—but the idea that he’s been hoping for this, too. Each wet motion of his tongue over your pebbled skin drags pulls out of you; Taehyung’s cock twitches at a loud keen that’s drawn from your lips, a wet patch of precum seeping through his boxers and trousers, darkening the fabric, even though you haven’t touched him yet.

When you reach out to grasp him through his clothes, his hips jolt forward and he bites off a surprised gasp, cutting through the sound with his teeth. He feels long and heavy as you stroke him, thumbing over the wet patch at his tip, hot, even through all those layers between your skin and his.

“I want to feel you, Tae,” you say, staring at him. “Inside me. Please.”

His breath hitches when you tighten your fingers around his shaft and drag your hand upwards, slow and intent.

“The oil isn’t condom friendly,” he admits, abashed.

“Then you can cum in my mouth,” you reply. No hesitation.

Taehyung’s eyes are so wide, but then he smiles, eyes squeezing into crescents, mouth turning up into that lovely, broad grin of his. He looks so sweet and sincere, and you feel like you could explode, stuffed overfull with love for him.

“You really are perfect,” he says.

“Only for you,” you reply, your smile just as bright.

He lays one final kiss to your chest, above your beating heart, before he starts to strip. The oil has obviously soaked through his shirt and onto his skin because it sticks when he peels it off and carelessly throws it aside.

Just like his heart, Taehyung’s body is soft and lovely. You sit up so you can touch him properly, catching him off guard when you pull him in for a kiss—one he eagerly leans into, and without the shirt in the way you can feel the way your skin slides against his, softened with oil.

There really is no one as beautiful as Kim Taehyung. You drag your hands over him, so warm and wonderful under your palms; his chest, his cute tummy, his waist, his hips, the soft skin above his red, neglected cock. He’s radiant in his nakedness, every easing line of his body so perfect as he kneels in front of you, the flush of his skin, the heavy weight of his arousal, head shining with precum, so wet it’s practically dripping.

You lean in to kiss his neck and nip at his Adam's apple as his hands slide over your shoulder blades and down your back, the parts that make you shudder.

“Want you, Tae.” You whisper into his mouth, a soft secret that isn’t really a secret at all, not any more. “All of you.”

“Going to give you everything you want.” The words flow out of him with ease. “Everything you want.”

His chest and stomach shine with the massage oil that’s rubbed off from your own skin. You run your hands across him, and when you finally grasp his cock without the barrier of cloth in the way, he’s almost burning under your grasp, thick, his entire body shuddering when you pump his length. So sensitive to your touch.

“I’m goin’ to make you cum again,” he promises, and you love it, the way he talks when he’s losing himself. “Bet you’ll feel so good around my cock, so perfect.”

A shiver skates through your body. Taehyung’s fingers dig into your skin when he feels you trembling under his hands, and all you can think about is how you want him in you.

“Please,” you say. “Please, wanna make you feel good too—”

“Hands and knees, angel,” he rasps, and, God, yes, those words cut straight through you, sharp and electric.

Maybe you should feel embarrassed at how quickly you obey. The towels underneath you, so carefully placed at the start, perfectly flat, become rumpled as you shift into position; you arch your back, wanting to look as good as possible, and glance over your shoulder to see if it works.

Judging from the look on Taehyung’s face, it does. He looks like he’s never seen anything more awe-inspiring, eyes wide and mouth a little slack, dumbstruck. But then his jaw snaps shut and he splays his hands over the soft skin of your hips, your waist, your ass, shuffling closer to you; you feel the curve of his cock slide against your skin and you bite back a noise of need.

“Fuck, so beautiful.” He ruts forward, and you can feel the wetness of his precum slicking against you, a beaded line drawn across the sheen of massage oil. “My beautiful, perfect girl.”

“Tae,” you plead, already overwhelmed with need, heart squeezing at his words.

“Just one more thing, angel, I promise.”

It’s a good thing that the bottle of massage oil is so big, considering how liberal Taehyung is with it. You gasp when he uses one hand to spread your ass and before you can react there’s a drizzle of oil falling onto your skin, down-down-down, over your cunt, dripping over your inner thighs; Taehyung catches the excess with his palms before he slicks himself up, spreading that sweet coconut over his throbbing cock.

(You wonder what it’ll taste like when you lick it off him.)

When you feel the blunt head of his cock nudging at your pussy, your entire body lights up in anticipation, nerve endings on fire, every inch of your body singing under Taehyung’s touch—and when he finally sinks in, it’s almost effortless. He’s thick and long but everything slides so easy; you gasp and he moans, both lost in how your body opens up for him, hot and wet. By the time he’s bottomed out you're a quivering mess, collapsed onto your elbows. You’re so full. You feel split open in all the best ways, wanting to draw him in impossibly deeper even so.

Taehyung is gripping your sides, hands unmoving even with the slick oil underneath them, fingers digging into your skin. He’s breathing so loud, and when you experimentally shift your hips, he bites back a noise that cuts through that breath.

“How’s it feel, love?” His words slur together in arousal, but the hand that strokes your back is slow, thoughtful. “Feel good?”

“Fuck me, Tae, baby, please,” you beg. It’s so, so so much, so good, amazing, hotter and bigger and harder than anything you’d let yourself imagine, your entire body taking Taehyung and holding him in, in, in. “Please, I need it, it feels good but I want more, please.”

When he pulls away it’s slow and torturous and he goes so far he almost slips out, cock nearly sliding out of your folds. You whine, a little shameless, mostly needy, but then—

The snap of his hips drives you forwards, towels shifting underneath as you scrabble for a hold on something. Each sharp motion of Taehyung’s body has you choking for air and letting out whimpers and gasps, drowned out by the slap of skin on skin; his hipbones meet the soft flesh of your ass, again and again, but all you can focus on is the thick heat of his cock inside you, in-out-in-out, the press of his balls against your clit, everything so wet and smooth and slick.

You can feel how you’re losing yourself to that heady place that’s golden bright with feeling, lust and sex, the rest of the world gone, unimportant. There’s nothing but this—Taehyung touching you, filling your body so well, so perfect, helping you chase that high that’s growing faster and faster, that precipice of pleasure that he’s going to throw you over again, intent on it.

One of his hands trails up your back, between that sensitive dip of your shoulder blades and into your hair, locks tangling with coconut oil before he urges you up. He doesn’t yank or pull but his hold is firm and you end up back on your hands, arms trembling as you try to keep your balance, back bowed, overwhelmed.

“Baby,” he rasps. “Oh, you’re so tight n’ hot, so pretty, fuck. You feel so good, do you feel good?”

Your answer is almost a wail, so overcome with pleasure, sensation, the glide of his hands over your shining skin, the mix of oil and arousal that drips out of you, only getting wetter with each thrust of his hips into you. “So good, o-oh God, Tae, baby, fuck, oh, theretherethere—”

“Here?”

He punctuates this with a roll of his hips, using the hand still on your hip to pull you back onto his cock as he fills you up once more, throbbing heat. He bends over you, and this time, there’s nothing stopping the skin on skin contact, the slide of his chest against your back as he kisses the soft skin behind your ear, nipping at your lobe, and that’s it, you’re gone. Your eyes slide shut and your mouth falls open as another orgasm crashes through you, legs shaking as you cum around Taehyung’s cock, grinding back against him to drag out that pleasure; the only thing holding you up is the hand still in your hair, the lips trailing up the side of your bared neck, the hard cock inside you, keeping you against him, so many points of connection with Taehyung.

(His chest pressed against your back, heart beating so hard you can feel it, your own heart moving in tandem, matching him.)

He’s been whispering filth to you, heated praise and love, how good you feel, how beautiful you are, what it’s like to see you like this, touch you like this, have you like this. Lovely, pretty, perfect, gorgeous, hot n’ wet n’ tight, fuck, love, oh.

You’re still shivering, the final pulses of your orgasm curling through you with each unintentional shift of Taehyung’s hips, the drag of his length inside your inner walls. You can feel something dripping out of you; oil, cum, you don't know, but fuck, it feels so so good.

“Oh, God,” you say. Breathless. “Oh, Taehyung, oh.”

“Pretty darling,” he murmurs. He swivels his hips, grinding against you, and your entire body jolts with oversensitivity, clit swollen where his balls press against it. You tighten around him and groan at how hot and big he still feels inside, even as you still shiver from the come down of your second orgasm. “Gonna roll you over so I can see that perfect face.”

And when you’re on your back again, fucked out and mussed and wrecked, he just stares at you. You’ve watched his face for so long, seen so many expressions flit across his features, but never something like this—it’s a mix of amazement and awe and tenderness and lust and love, a lift to his brows and a spark in his eyes and a set to his lips.

And when he leans down to kiss you, that look doesn’t leave. It melts and softens around the edges as you catch each other's mouths, as you kiss and kiss, small tender things interspersed with longer, deeper touches, lips and teeth and tongue—his eyes darken and his mouth flushes darker pink, kiss swollen and so beautiful, but that expression stays. It stays for you.

Kim Taehyung is beautiful and lovely and unique. Kim Taehyung is so far out of your reach it’s kind of stunning, actually. And yet, here you are, existence of his touch over every part of you, in every part of you, lust driven, love full; the carefully balanced weight of his body splayed over you, pinning you down, keeping you close.

“I wanna see you cum, Tae,” you say. “Please?”

And just like he always does, Taehyung indulges you, just like you indulge him. He presses back inside you, cunt opening up for him so easy, so smooth, like his touch has already been etched into the memory of your body, perfect for him. He stays pressed close, face so near as he rolls into each thrust, sweat and coconut oil painted across your skin as your bodies shift together.

He’s been covering you in his words, both heated and sweet, and now you return the favour. You tell him how good he feels, how beautiful he is, so good, so perfect, so considerate, how much you’ve wanted this. So good, so long and thick, oh, Tae, feels so good, ah-ah-ah, baby, you’re unreal, fuck.

You can see the exact moment he starts to reach his high, the way he sucks in air, the way he lifts his chin, starts to thrust a little harder, a little faster, chasing that thread of pleasure that’s spiralling through him, and you urge him on. You lift your hips and clench so tight it has him gasping, hips stuttering, and you press your nose against his jaw, saying give it to me give it to me give it to me, wanting him to feel the same pleasure he’s given you.

When he pulls out, you’re too busy moving to pay attention to how empty you feel, settling between his legs and swallowing down his shining cock almost desperately. There’s no coconut. You can only taste yourself and when you lave your tongue across his slit it’s all Taehyung-Taehyung-Taehyung, hot and salt and bitter; he gasps and his hips jump and you take it all, lowering your head as far as you can, the head of his cock at the back of your throat before you pull up, dragging your tongue over the pulsing vein at the underside, messy and wet. You drink down the wetness of his cock, your own arousal, mixed with his, the precum that beads at his head, staring up at him, your hands sliding over the sheen of his stomach, his thighs, cupping his balls, everything slick with oil and sweat.

“Oh, God.” Taehyung’s eyes are blown and his hair is a mess and his mouth is wide open as he pants for air, watching. “Baby, baby, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum.”

You suck hard, dragging your lips up from the base of the cock to the rounded tip, swirling your tongue, bobbing your head faster—

“Oh, fuck—”

—and you swallow down each wave of cum, swallow down the way his cock twitches as he spills the evidence of pleasure into your mouth, swallow down the lovely noises that shudder out of him, watching him the whole time, never wanting to look away.

When you take your mouth off his softening cock, you draw a line of kisses with your mouth, up the soft skin of his body, stomach to chest to neck to mouth. He licks the taste of coconut oil off your lips, the taste of himself off your tongue; you curl up in his lap, settled against him, the apartment’s cool air even sharper against your skin, magnified by the oil that still lingers.

(Even without the oil painted across him, Taehyung would still shine, even under the weak light from the cheap lightbulb that hangs above you.)

You feel soft and warm and small in the circle of Taehyung’s arms, pulled close, and you can hear the words in his chest as he speaks, a resonance that touches against your skin.

“‘M sorry,” he murmurs.

You pause.

“Baby, love, darling.” The endearments are sugar sweet in your mouth, soft against his skin before you pull back to look at him, confused, concerned. “Sorry for what?”

“I really—I really was just planning to do a massage, but you’re so…”

You let out a slip of laughter. The room smells of coconut and sex, but when you lay your head against Taehyung’s collarbone all you can smell is the light tinge of his sweat. You breathe in, deep, like you can hold onto that ephemeral part of him. “Oh, Tae. I’m so what?”

“You’re so good,” he says. “So good and kind and lovely and—and so beautiful. I was going to do the massage to make you happy and then… tell you. About how happy you make me.”

You burrow your head into the hollow of his neck, the way he does to you, shy. “I’m not as beautiful as you,” you reply. “Tae, you are literally the most beautiful person alive, and—God, I’ve. I’ve been. So head over heels for you.”

There’s a pause. “Really?”

When you pull back to fix Taehyung with all the surprise in your gaze, you can see that he’s surprised, too. His hair hangs into his eyes, and he looks a little unsure, like he believes you, but finds it impossible to fathom.

You leave massage oil on his cheeks when you cup his face in your hands, staring at him with wide eyes. “Kim Taehyung, I have had daily breakdowns about the intensity of my love for you to Pickles ever since we got him. You’re the first person I think about each morning—usually because we wake each other up—and the last thing I think about at night—well, usually because you end up climbing into my bed more often than not, but, it still counts,” you say. You’re both tangled together in so many ways already. “You’ve had my heart for a long time, you know. I just never thought I had a chance?”

When Taehyung kisses you, it’s brief, a hard press of his lips before he rests his forehead against yours. “You really, really have no idea how perfect you are,” he murmurs. “I’ve wanted—I want to do everything for you to show you how grateful I am for everything you do for me.”

“You don’t have to,” you protest, but he just smiles.

“I don’t have to, but I want to,” he says. “Like you don’t have to look after me, but you do.”

“That’s because I love you,” you say. “Like, capital L love you.”

You’ve been so afraid of confessing, so convinced that it was an unattainable dream; that Kim Taehyung would never, could never, has never seen you as more than a friend. But the way he’s looking at you now, the way he’s touched you, the way your body still echoes with the feeling of him inside you: you’re not scared, any more. You don’t need to be.

Taehyung’s eyes are so dark and warm when he replies, easy and effortless. “I love you, too.”

Your relationship has always been a give and take, is the thing. When you climb in the shower together, he washes the oil from your back while you massage shampoo into his scalp, laughing when he makes devil horns in his hair. He catches you by surprise when he presses you against the tiles, swallowing your moans when he coaxes one final orgasm from your tired body, rubbing tight circles over your clit as you buck against his hand and water cascades over you both. His cock hardens in your hands, sliding between your legs when you press them together, tight-tight-tight, his length rubbing against your cunt as he fucks your thighs until he’s moaning and shaking and cumming again.

(The water’s cold by the time you finally climb out, but that’s okay. You giggle and kiss as you dry yourselves, each other, excuses to keep touching and feeling, driven by affection, not lust.)

When you’re both clean, and dry, Taehyung’s leg thrown over your hip as he tugs you in, flush with his body under the covers, you press your lips against the line of his jaw.

“Taehyung?”

“Yes, angel?”

You smile and hunch up even closer to him, scrunching yourself up as small as you can to plaster yourself against his side. “Thank you for the wonderful massage. Definitely the best massage I’ve ever been given, ten out of ten, would do again.”

Taehyung laughs, pressing his rectangular smile into the kiss he lays against your lips, and you think that nothing tastes better than the happiness curling his mouth.

“Love you,” he murmurs. Always romantic. “I love you love you love you.”

“Tae-honey-hyung.” And it feels so nice to not have to filter your words, to bite back that second layer of meaning, to try and keep things platonic and chaste when you speak. “I love you.”

And it feels so nice to have your Taehyung beside you, your body still aching with the press of him inside you, a good ache, a nice ache. A physical ache from good love, rather than a heartache from a love you didn’t think was reciprocated. But it is, somehow, each of you so bowled over by each other.

(“Hey, Pickles.”

The bearded dragon looks up at you, placid as he lounges in his tank.

“Well, you’ll be happy to hear that you won’t have to put up with me ranting at you any more,” you say. “Taehyung did break out the massage oil but it’s all good. I didn’t spontaneously combust or anything, like I thought I would.”

Pickles’ tongue flicks out as he shifts, and you smile.

“Okay, that’s it, I’m done,” you finish. “Thanks, Pickles. You’re a real pal.”

Taehyung nuzzles into your neck. His arms are a tight circle around your waist, chin resting on your shoulder as he looks down at the reptile, too. He’s warm and solid against your back, and you lean into him, happiness tingling through you.

“I wonder how much longer we would have taken if you didn’t get that coupon for a massage therapy course,” you muse, and Taehyung chuckles, warm and lovely.

“We would have gotten there eventually. And we would have had each other until we did, anyway. Right, angel?”

Pickles stays quiet as you both kiss, but you can tell he approves.)

taglist: @beyoncesdragon

#magicshopnet #btswritingcafe #taehyung smut #taehyung oneshot #taehyung x reader #bts #bts smut #v smut #v oneshot #v x reader #taehyung #taehyung fluff #bts oneshot #kim taehyung #taehyung imagine #taehyung scenario #bts fic #bts fanfic #joy.masterlist

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differentkettleoffishalltogether · 4 years ago

Text

Show Me [Part 1/2]

Summary: Spencer finds out his girlfriend’s a virgin. But she wants him to change that.

A/N: This is an anon request that I loved writing. This is Part 1 and I’m working on Part 2 right now! If you like this and wanna read some more of my stuff check out my Masterlist, or my series, I’m On Fire.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Category: Mostly smut, and a lil fluff

Warnings/Includes: smut, graphic descriptions of sexual acts, oral (male receiving), fingering, slight hair pulling, please let me know if there’s anything I’ve missed!

Word count: 3k

Request: “Omg I’ve just found your account, you’re an amazing writer! If you’re taking requests, could you write something with virgin!reader and like season 13/14 Spencer?”

Read Part 2 Here

They’ve never had sex.

They’ve kissed though. They’ve kissed so much it made Spencer feel like a teenager, well what he assumed it was like to be a regular teenager.

They’d kiss everywhere they could, in his bed, in her bed, in his kitchen, in the car, in hotel rooms, one time in a supply closet at the BAU. But mostly they ended up on Spencer’s couch. The first time they did anything more than just kissing was on Spencer’s couch, it wasn’t exactly planned it just, happened.

They were making out and she was lying beneath him, there was a sort of comfort in the feeling of his weight on top of her, keeping her fixed beneath him. She’d worn a pretty short dress for their date earlier, one she knew Spencer liked, but after all of the squirming and moving it just sort of rode up.

She didn’t feel it happening but when Spencer came up for air and looked down at her, all he could see was the skirt of her dress, bunched up around her waist, and the little pink panties she had on underneath, absolutely soaking wet.

He let out a small chuckle, looking back up at her, “Have you been wet this entire time?” he smirked.

She doesn’t think too hard about it. She’s so turned on by the way he looks right now, his hooded eyes and his softly parted pink lips are so distracting that she forgets he’s never seen her like this before and she nods.

“Mmhmm” she hums, and bites her lip in anticipation of his next move.

“Can I touch you?” he asks, soft and gentle and she nods again, a little too shy to do much else.

He starts by touching her above her underwear, pushing against the cotton, moving it around between her folds with one finger. She was already moaning and writhing beneath him with that simple touch.

When he tucked a finger inside of her panties he shouldn’t have been shocked but he was. She was so wet, almost screaming in pleasure below him and he’d only grazed her clit once or twice. He thought she might combust when he sunk just one finger into her and she was so tight and clenched around the digit. Squirming even when he was motionless inside of her.

It wouldn’t have taken long to actually make her cum, that was obvious. But he was having so much fun with it that he decided to drag this out for as long as he could. Bringing her to the edge over and over until she was literally begging him for release. By the end of it she was completely spent, her arousal coating her thighs, his hands, and a little of the couch. He took off her panties and stashed them in his pocket and she really wished she didn’t find that quite as hot as she did.

He doesn’t want to test her limits again right away, he wants her to come to him when she's ready. But it doesn’t happen again for a while. They go back to their usual dance, making out like teenagers, sometimes for hours until the point when one of them has to leave, or sleep, or they’re both called away on a case.

It’s not until a whole month has passed that things change again.

Y/N sneaks into Spencer’s room one night while they’re out on a case. He’s a little shocked to see her but he’s happy none the less. What’s shocking him more than anything is the skimpy little nightdress she’s got on, and how more notably it seems like she’s not wearing a bra underneath it.

“What are you doing?” he asks when he opens the door to her, and what he wants to say is ‘you can’t be out in the halls looking like this’, and what he really means by that is, ‘you can’t be in my room looking like this because I’ll never recover’.

“Can I come in?” she asks softly, and almost a little worried, so he steps aside to let her in.

They sit on the edge of his bed, her posture is rigid as she sits, and she takes in a deep breath before she speaks again.

“Do you like the way that I look?” she asks, tentative, and his heart just about breaks. Of course he did. He had since the second he laid eyes on her.

“Yes, oh my god. You’re the prettiest girl I think I’ve ever seen?” he rushes out, his hand reaching out to touch her bare shoulder in a comforting gesture. But she doesn’t look relieved or satisfied by the admission.

“But do you—” she braces herself, “do you think I'm sexy?”

He’s got no idea what’s happening, if she didn’t look so serious he’d think this was some kind of joke. “Are you serious?” he gasps, “Are you kidding me?” he hops off the bed and sinks to his knees in front of her.

“I don’t know how I got so lucky. You’re the prettiest, sexiest, woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.” he tries to reassure, placing his hands on her knees and looking up at her.

“Then why don’t we—” she’s not even sure what she’s trying to ask, “Why do we only kiss? Don’t you want to...” she trails off, and there’s something endearing about the way she can’t even seem to bring herself to say any explicit words out loud.

“Don’t I want to sleep with you?” he guesses, knowing it’s the right answer, “Y/N, I want to sleep with you so, so badly. I think about it all the time.” he confesses and her eyes blow wide.

“You do?”

He nods eagerly, “All. The. Time.” he emphasizes, “When you play with your hair in work, when you fall asleep on my lap while we’re watching a movie, when you kiss me for hours, when you bite your lip while you’re concentrating, when you wear that little navy pencil skirt, when you show up to my hotel room dressed like this” he gestures to her nightdress, “or when I think about your little pink panties in the top drawer of my nightstand” he whispers the last part.

“I just thought…” she searches for the end of the sentence, “I thought you didn’t want to?” she pouts.

“I thought you weren’t ready” he says it so earnest, and he means it. He’d never want to make her feel like it wasn’t her choice.

“I haven’t— I’ve never— I’m a virgin Spencer.” she confesses, and she doesn’t look at him while she does, too shy from the admission.

“That’s okay” he moves his hands up to grab hers gently, gazing up at her with nothing but adoration in his eyes, “I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to do”

“But I want to, with you” she looks at him now and her gaze is so soft that he melts.

“I want to as well. But not here.” he sits back up on the bed next to her, “It shouldn’t be in some cheap motel with our co-workers down the hall. We can do it at my place, or yours, or we could book an actual nice hotel room in the city somewhere? Whatever you want.” she nods at him and smiles.

“I’d like that a lot” she looks happy now, content and relieved, “but could we maybe still do something now?”

He’s taken aback completely, “Did you have something in mind?”

She looks shy again, and he has to coax it out of her, squeezing her hands in his and giving her an encouraging kiss on the cheek.

“When you touched me on your couch that time. I wanted to do something for you, but I wasn’t sure— I didn’t want to get it wrong so I just chickened out” she admits.

“What did you want to do?” he pries gently.

“I wanted to use my mouth” she breaks eye contact when she speaks. He can’t take it anymore so he tilts her head softly with one of his hands so she has to look directly at him again.

“You wanted to use your mouth on what?” he’s doing it on purpose to get her out of her shell.

“On your— on your cock” she whispers out like she's embarrassed to even say it at full volume.

“You wanted to suck my cock?” he asks and she can feel the heat rising in her cheeks as she nods.

“Please?” she asks, and he never thought he'd have a girl this beautiful asking him if she could ‘please’ suck his cock. How did he get this lucky?

“Only if you want to”

“I really do” she volunteers, “but I need you to tell me… how?”

“So you’ve never done it before?” he asks, he’s been aware she was a virgin but he’s got no idea what she had or hadn’t done before. She shakes her head.

“When you, touched me, that was the first time anyone other than me had well…”

“And you’ve never touched anyone else?” he asks, soft and sweet, rubbing his thumb over and back on the top of her hand.

“I have.” she says, “With other boys when I was younger but never anything more”

“Okay” he says encouraging.

“How do we start?” she looks less nervous now that it’s all out in the open.

“Like we always do” he breaks out in a smile as he leans in to kiss her. Her lips are so soft against his, perfect as always.

He pulls her toward him and parts their lips long enough to tell her to sit on his lap. She obliges, she loves to sit like this while they kiss, he knows that too. Sitting this way she can feel him as he starts to grow hard beneath her, only the thin fabric of his boxers keeping him from her.

His hands hold onto her thighs, digging his fingernails into the sides of them as she moans into his mouth. He chances moving one of his hands up her side, and as he hovers it above her chest he breaks apart from her for just a moment. “Can I?” he asks, and she nods before he places a hand on her breast over the fabric of her nightdress. And he knew she wasn’t wearing a bra.

He couldn't stop himself from bringing the other hand up so he could cup both breasts. Massaging and kneading them, feeling her nipples begin to harden and stand out from the satin fabric.

She grinds down against him momentarily and her eyes grow wide. “Are you?” she looks down between them, clearly feeling him.

“I’m hard Y/N” he says softly, and she looks almost giddy.

“I’m ready” she breathes out and swings off his lap, taking charge now that she’d worked up some confidence. It’s not like she had no idea what to do. She’s watched porn, she’s read a few things about it, but she also knew there was no way to really know what it was like without actually doing it.

She kneels down in front of him, pulling apart his knees so that she can nestle down in between them. She’s the one that pulls down the waistband of his boxers, just far enough so that she can pull his cock out.

She feels stupid in a way. She hadn’t given much thought to how it would look but it was different to what she’d anticipated. It was flushed pink, and leaking from the tip. And it was bigger, or thicker maybe, than she’d been expecting. She had a vibrator at home and it didn’t look like this. For one thing it was purple, but it was also smaller than this. For a moment she's nervous before she realizes that this is Spencer. And she could never feel nervous with him.

“Is everything alright? If you’ve changed your mind—” he starts and she shakes her head probably a bit too vigorously.

“No! It’s just— bigger, than I was expecting” she says holding it loosely in her hand.

“Oh” he says, unable to his his surprise, “thank you?” She giggles at him, unaware she’d actually been paying him a compliment.

“What do you like?” She asks, peering up at him and fluttering her eyelashes like she’d done this a million times before.

“Well, um,” he’s the one with the shaky breath now, and he’s not sure when he got so nervous, “I guess if you lick it first, that always feels good” he’s barely got the sentence out and she’s on him. Licking a long stripe up the underside of his cock, right along the vein, reaching the tip and swiping up the pre-cum leaking from the slit there. He’s got to struggle not to throw his head back in pleasure instantly, he wants to see it, wants to watch all of it.

She takes her mouth off of him and looks up with those doe eyes again, and now that he’s looking he can see down her nightdress. He’s got a perfect view of her perky nipples, turned on beneath the fabric and his dick twitches at the sight.

“Like that?” she pulls off him to ask, and he can barely breathe.

“Fuck Y/N! Exactly like that” he groans, chest heaving, his hands clawing at the duvet.

She smiles up at him, “and then what?”

“Uh, take it in your mouth, you don't have to take it the whole way down, just as far as you feel comfortable with” he assures her, trying to steady out his breathing. He doesn’t want her to gag or anything. “then just use your hands for the rest.”

She nods, thinking for a moment before bringing her mouth back down to him. This time she licks him again, all the way up and around the tip, just a little slower than before. Then she wraps her plush lips around the head of his cock. He moans louder than he meant to as she starts to sink down on him, further and further, taking him in inch by inch.

She didn't quite get the whole way down but she got way further than he thought she would. Taking in as much of him as she could she began to rise up again. It took a little adjusting to make sure she was breathing in and out through her nose, but once she got the hang of it she began to pick up the pace.

Sliding up and down against him, the feeling of her warm, wet mouth was almost too much. He’d gotten himself off to thoughts of her for months now and it just didn’t compare. Not by a long shot, he knew he wasn’t going to last much longer.

She stopped after another minute and looked up at him, “Is it okay? Does it feel good?” she asks, unsure.

“Jesus, fuck. Y/N, it feels so good. You feel so good” he gasps and she looks delighted.

“Would you, maybe, put your hands in my hair?” she asks, a little nervous, and he’s shocked for what feels like the 100th time this evening, “I like how it feels” she says, shy and unsure. So he sits forward, leaning down a little so he can take her face in his hands.

“How did I get so lucky?” he plants a kiss on her lips and moves his hands from the side of her face into her hair. Gathering it up into a ponytail and gripping it firmly. She lowers down again, wrapping her lips around the head once more and sinking down. Bolstered by his compliments and ignoring her nerves she forces herself to sink further down on him this time. Taking him as deep as she possibly can until she can feel him hit the back of her throat for the briefest moment before she has to pull back.

But the strangled moan that he lets out when she’s got him that far down is so gorgeous that it might be the only noise she ever wants to hear again.

He pulls at her hair roughly as she starts to move faster and faster, and she moans at the feeling. The vibrations she creates around his cock just make him pull even harder, letting out some of the pent up tension.

“Fuck, Y/N, I’m so close. You can stop.” he forces out with shallow breaths, but she doesn’t budge. He tries to pull her off him using his grip on her hair but she resists, and she just keeps on moving. Up and down his length, taking down as much of him as possible on each stroke.

“Fuckkkk” he moans out as he releases, and he can feel it pumping into her throat as she swallows around him.

When she pulls off, and she’s looking up to him for approval, her eyes wide, her lips and chin coated in spit and cum as it drips down, he knows without a doubt that she’s the sexiest thing he’s ever laid eyes on.

“Was that okay?” she asks hopeful.

“Was that okay?” he rushes out in disbelief, “Get up here.” he helps her off her knees and pulls her onto his lap again, holding her close. “I can’t believe you.” he shakes his head and pulls her in for a sloppy kiss, he can taste himself on her tongue as they mold together.

“That was perfect, beyond perfect, fuck” he wipes her chin with his thumb, it doesn’t do much but it’s a gesture.

“Are you okay?” he asks softly, brushing her hair back with his hands, and she’s just looking at him, beaming.

“I liked it” she says, like she can’t really believe just how much she enjoyed herself, “I can’t wait to learn more.”

Read Part 2 Here

Masterlist

Permanent Taglist:

@pinkdiamond1016

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capaimagines · 4 years ago

Text

seo changbin - sweet like sugar

Pairing: Sugar Daddy!Changbin x Reader | Genre: angst, fluff & smut | Warnings: aged up changbin, smut, use of color system, use of a vibrator, multiple orgasms, creampie, fingering, daddy kink, face fucking, handcuffs | WC: 5.0k

A/N: a huge, huge thank you to @caiuscassiuss for beta reading & helping guide me to write hard dom smut as I'm only used to soft smut! A literal angel!! Please check out her masterpieces while your at it!! - P

Request: Sugar daddy changbin X reader. Maybe some angst, fluff and smut? Overall a pretty kinky but fun relationship

When one of your close friends had first introduced you to the idea of being a sugar baby, it didn’t quite sit well with you. You weren’t really for it and strongly believed in the negative stigma surrounding that idea— that you would most likely be paired up with some horny old male who wanted to get their dick wet. Then others would see you as some kind of slutty hook up that kept going back for more and more. However, your friend had convinced you to at least meet with the person she knew. She was a sugar baby herself and had said her sugar daddy had a friend that was looking for someone. You needed the money, being in college and all, so you sucked up your pride and ignorance and told yourself you would at least meet with him for dinner. Besides, you hadn’t been close with a male in quite some time. Maybe this would be good for you.

Though, what you didn’t expect was for this male that was waiting for you at the table to be so goddamn hot. His chocolate eyes shined brightly into yours and his ash brown hair fell just above his eyes. You hadn’t even known him for that long but his smile made your stomach do these weird kinds of flips. You had to keep reminding yourself though that this was just a business transaction, nothing more. You did what he asked for money and that was it, there is no room for anything more, no feelings.

“Hi,” You said softly as you made your way over to the male, “I’m Y/N,” You shyly smiled to which the male couldn’t help but smile widely at.

“Seo Changbin,” He introduced, moving his hand out forward for you to take before offering you a seat.

The two of you sat there for a while, having a few sips of the alcoholic beverages in front of you before you took the contract out of your bag that your friend had handed down to you.

“Look, Mr. Seo-”

“Y/N, just call me Changbin. Please,” He cut in smoothly.

“Uh, okay. Changbin. I’m more than grateful that you’ve given me loads of time to think about this arrangement and whether or not I want to be a part of this,” You began, stopping to take another sip of your wine.

“Well, have you come to a conclusion, Y/N?” He asked slowly and carefully as he examined your features for any sign of uneasiness.

”I—,” You began, wanting to sound confident as you told him you weren’t quite sure what you wanted, “I have my doubts about this arrangement, Changbin.”

Changbin didn’t say anything at first, instead opting to look at you to encourage you to speak up more about your concerns.

“I’m new to all of this. This sort of lifestyle choice and arrangements and so on. I’m just not exactly sure at this point.”

“What exactly aren’t you sure about, Y/N?” He simply replied. His tone suddenly lowered and the raspiness in his throat made you clench your thighs together, imagining him using that kind of voice on you in the bedroom.

“Okay, um, let me tell you honestly for a second, okay?” You gulped before explaining to him your situation of growing up in the middle class with parents who separated in your early childhood. You didn’t get to live the lavish lifestyle and most of your nights were spent at the small café trying to scrape up some money to pay off your tuition while you studied full time.

“What if I end up quitting my job for this arrangement and then we hit some bumps along the way?” You breathe out, “It’s hard to get a job at my age that will support my college hours and all. I only have this job now because I've been here for years.”

”Look,” He sighed loudly, rubbing his hand over his face which caused you to think you were wasting his time, “I must admit I haven’t taken a liking to any other woman that has sent her application and your friend was the one that brought you to my attention. I don’t wish to pressure you at all and I understand completely if you want to not go through with this,” He paused as he took a look at you.

“I know you have your concerns but let me remind you that this arrangement isn’t all about sex, though it is a fun part of it. Yeah, there are many guys out there who just want to fuck like rabbits,” He chuckled to which you let a small smile adore your lips, “But there are also many guys who just want be in the company of a gorgeous woman.”

“Let’s try this,” Changbin’s fingers brushed upon your wrist, “Let me take you somewhere nice, like a trial run,” He suggested.

“A trial run?” You questioned, confused.

“Yes. Let me take you somewhere and we can see where the night takes us. How does that sound?” He said with a smirk.

You weren’t going to lie, from all the stories you heard from your friend and small glimpses of the contract Changbin wrote up of galas and presentations as well as kinky, kinky sex, his life sounded… exciting. Exhilarating, even. Maybe a change in pace is something that you desperately need.

This was your chance to get to do something slightly scandalous and you were more than keen to get to experiment this with someone like Mr. Seo, a very kinky man indeed.

”Where are you planning to take me?”

***

Your second time meeting up with Changbin was for a fancy dinner date along the pier, and you had to make extra sure that your fit was quite revealing yet intriguing and inviting. After hearing of the plans, you knew what you were doing when you paired up your dark red lace with your wine colored silk dress. Your hair was down, but pinned back out of your face and your collar bones were on full display with a tiny pearl necklace adoring your skin, one that Changbin had sent your way a few days after your first meet.

“Perfect,” You purred as you put on your black heels and checked your phone to see if Changbin was waiting for you outside. Quickly grabbing the last of your belongings you made your way down to see a male holding the back door open for you.

“Right this way Miss Y/N L/N.”

With that you politely bowed your head before moving in to sit in the back. Eyeing up Changbin’s attire, you bit your lip. Expensive. A cream, silk dress shirt with a suit jacket adorning his top half, black slacks and oxfords adorning his lower half. It didn’t take long for you to arrive at the restaurant, Changbin got out first and reached out his arm for you to take.

“Thank you,” You mumbled.

“Not a problem, gorgeous,” He said back with a smirk, placing a kiss to your cheek before he intertwined his fingers with yours and strode confidently into the restaurant.

“Hello, I have a reservation for two under Seo Changbin.”

“Welcome,” He said as he stared at the two of you, “Follow me this way, why don’t you?” The host politely suggested as he led the way through the restaurant, past the many posh people in the dining area and up to the top half of the section. Witholding a gasp, you saw your table was covered with roses, wine and candles, all very picturesque in front of a large window with a view of the pier below.

“Wow,” You couldn’t help but say, making Changbin laugh a little before gesturing for you to take a seat as he ordered some food for the two of you.

“I didn’t think you were going to accept,” He revealed honestly.

“I didn’t think I was going to either,” You told him.

“What can I do to make you mine? What can I do or say to get you to accept my offer and make you feel at ease?” Changbin explained, as he called a waiter over to order some scotch.

“I don’t know Mr. Seo-”

“Changbin,” He said, “You don’t have to keep being so polite Y/N. Just call me Changbin,” You gulped before nodding and drinking the rest of your drink in front of you.

“I promise that I’ll take care of you Y/N,” He said reassuringly, “I can give you as much time as you need,” He said, leaning forward to take a hold of your hand once he looked at you for reassurance, ”You wouldn’t have to work anymore,” Changbin’s fingers brushed yours in a shy manner and you played with the idea for a second but soon shook your head in disbelief.

”But I think I would be selling my body to you,” You said more harshly than intended too.

You felt bad for almost shaming him for doing what he does. Paying for women just to spend time with him. Your parents had raised you not to do these kinds of things yet here you were in an expensive restaurant with a millionaire, sugar daddy who was offering to provide for you. Though, after having a proper conversation with Changbin and learning more about his upbringing and so on, you learnt that he pretty much grew up with a similar lifestyle as you. His parents divorced young, moved out at a young age too and struggled to grow up on his own. Thankfully for him, he was able to be successful from a young age yet felt like he didn’t have the right personality to meet new people. He didn’t know how to act around others and he didn’t want people to think of him differently because he had money. That was why he came about this kind of lifestyle. He had only ever done this once before you, but it didn’t work out due to her wanting other agreements.

A few hours went by and it was time to leave the extravagant restaurant and make your way back home. Feeling secure enough that his interest was returned, Changbin wanted to test waters with you.

“Would you like to come back to mine, Y/N? We can just relax and watch some films if you like.”

You don’t know what came over you and the sudden burst of confidence considering your earlier conversations, but you just went for it. “I think,” you whispered breathily, trailing your nails up his bicep and finally resting at his shoulder, “I'd much rather do you instead.”

“Oh, baby girl,” He chuckled into your ear as he brought your body up flush against his, “I wanted to be gentle with you, but I don’t know about that right now.”

You felt your face heat up and your thighs clench together at the thought of Changbin being rough with you. With the sudden confidence you were currently experiencing, you were all for it.

“Fuck me like you mean it, Daddy,” You snickered against his ear before walking out to the car.

Lips slightly ajar, Changbin was beyond shocked at your sudden change of behaviour, but was not complaining one bit. He quickly followed you towards the car, telling the driver to take you both back to his palatial home before closing the window that separated the front of the car with the back. His hands did not leave your thighs throughout the whole trip, inching closer and closer to your needy core by the second. Your breath hitched in your throat the moment his pointer finger grazed the hem of your panties before pressing harshly against your clit, bucking your hips up to try and gain his touch, only for Changbin to pull away with smirk, distracting himself with his phone just to get a reaction out of you.

After bidding goodbye to the driver, Changbin pulled you inside his apartment before moving towards the kitchen to get some water. You knew he had money, but the luxury penthouse suite on the top floor of the skyrise building was a little overwhelming for you. You were afraid to touch anything because you were quite positive anything in there cost three times your college tuition.

“Relax, Y/N,” He said as he watched the way you walked around and admired his place, “Make yourself comfortable.”

So you did just that, you pulled Changbin by the hand and he immediately pushed you up against the kitchen counter top, his lips pressing into yours in a fiery kiss. His hands began to roam your thighs as he leaned his body flush against yours.

“This is quite different from the Y/N I just spent the last few hours sharing a meal with,” He snickered and at his smug grin you rolled your eyes.

“I like to live my life spontaneously sometimes,” You mumbled against his lips.

“Jump, baby,” He said and you looked at him with a smirk as you jumped into his arms, his hands playing with the flesh of your thighs and ass under your dress.

You kissed him back hard as your hands played with his messy locks and you rubbed the nape of his neck. Your breath was ragged and you already felt your body getting clammy from all the pent up activities and emotions.

“I thought you didn’t want to sell your body to me,” He teased as he moved to suck on your neck, leaving a trail of hickeys for you to admire tomorrow.

You huffed at him before moving to kiss his neck this time, “I thought about it more as a two-way contract. A no-strings-attached kind of thing. You want someone to fuck as well as spend some time with and honestly, I want someone to fuck me so good that I won’t be able to walk,” You smirked as your leaned forward against his ears, “Would you do the honour?”

“Just give me a sign and tell me you want me,” He said with a squeeze to your ass.

“Well here is your sign,” You smirked, sucking harshly just under his ear as one of your hands slid down between your bodies to clutch at his hardening erection.

“Oh baby,” He groaned before carrying you towards the bedroom and placing you on the bed as he moved to the side table, “You are familiar with the color system, right?”

You nodded excitedly at the male in front of you as you went to sit on your knees at the end of his bed, eyeing what he was taking out of the box. A blindfold, handcuffs and a vibrator.

“We don’t have to use them if you don’t want to. You just have to tell me. Use your words baby,” Changbin said, placing a hand on your jaw so his eyes could meet yours.

“I think-,” You stuttered, “I want you to use the handcuffs and vibrator on me, but not the blindfold. I want to be able to see you,” You told him honestly as he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“Your wish is my command, baby,” He said and with that, Changbin hovered over you in seconds.

His lips were back on yours in an instant as his hands got to work on pushing your silk dress down your body, hands ravishing your warm skin, already sending goosebumps all over your body. It didn’t take long for his lips to leave your mouth, moving down to press wet kisses down your neck before kissing his way down to your chest and down towards your mounds. Sitting his body up a bit, he got rid of the dress altogether, throwing it somewhere on the ground before moving to straddle your middle, his hands playing with your breasts over the bralette he had yet to remove. His index finger and forefinger pinched together to grasp your perked up nipples in between as his tongue lavished your neglected, covered nipple. You felt your breath hitch under his touch and you couldn’t help but try to arch your to get closer to him, only to realize that his weight prevented you to do so.

“Shit,” You moaned, “Please Changbin.”

Changbin groaned at the sight of you writhing beneath him already as he pushed the bralette over your breasts and moved his hand to unclasp your bra so he gave you room to wiggle yourself out of it. You felt your cheeks flush, you were burning from embarrassment when it took you a while to discard the bralette. Though, Changbin believed that it was such a pretty sight. It didn’t take long for Changbin to lean back down and suck on your niples with precision, shocks coursing through your body and down to your needy core. You did your best to muffle your moans from your throat but Changbin seemed to notice and encouraged you to be as loud as you liked. He continued to press wet, sloppy kisses along your stomach, down your navel and towards your thighs before moving to the inner parts. As much as you wanted to say your piece, you were unable to cohort any words other than whines and moans. Your throat felt extremely dry and you could already feel your core squeezing around absolutely nothing.

”You look gorgeous like this,” He said with a groan as he sat back on his heels, massaging your thighs with his warm hands.

As Changbin took a hold of the hem of your panties he looked towards you for a moment to make sure you were okay before sliding them from you giving a slight tap to your bottom to make you lift up for him.

Changbin’s breath hitched in his throat when he saw your lips that were coated with your slick from excitement.

”You okay to continue, baby?” He asked as he laid down next to you with a hand grabbing your waist and pulling you to your side to face him, ”There is no need to be shy with me,” He urged you on with the utmost care, ”With me, there’s nothing to be afraid of, okay? You want to stop, then we stop. If you want more, I can give you more,” He reassured you as he searched your features with a warm smile.

“I want you,” You mumbled shyly, “I want you to own me, to fuck me hard and rough, to have me forgetting every other male’s name and only remembering yours.”

“You always surprise me with the words that come out of your pretty mouth, baby girl,” He said with a tease as his hands began to slide down your front, hovering over your slick lips, “How about I make that wish come true, yeah?”

You nodded eagerly as you watched Changbin lean to the side of the bed, taking a hold of the silver handcuffs he had got out earlier, before moving your hands to above your head and clasping them closed around your wrists. Not long after, you felt Changbin’s fingers begin to run over the slick of your lips before slowly inserting one of his fingers. You let out a shaky breath as your cuffed hands moved to position themself in his hair and he moved back down to take one of your breasts in his mouth. It didn’t take long before he inserted another finger as he began to pump his fingers a few times, the lewd squelch suffusing heat to your cheeks. Satisfied with the gleam coating his fingers, he removed them and shoved them into your mouth.

“Suck on them for me baby,” He groaned as he placed a hickey on your breast, dark eyes watching your obscene actions, “Make them nice and wet.” His fingers were buried in your mouth, causing you to gag every time he shoved them a little further.

Once he was satisfied with his slick covered digits, he went back to your dripping cunt and he pumped his saliva-slicked fingers vigorously.

“Fuck,” You moaned as you bend your knees and planted your feet flat on the bed, “Fuck Bin.”

“You’re so sensitive,” He cooed as he made his way down to fan his breath over your clit, “Is this all really for me?”

“Just for you,” You whined. However, as the pace of his fingers increased as he began to flick at the sensitive bud with his tongue, your small whines turned into long, drawn out groans.

It didn’t take him long to have you coming all over his tongue and fingers, your body shaking beneath him. Moving back to stand at the edge of the bed, he took in the glorious sight before him. Bare as the day you were born and gleaming with sweat, you looked over at him underneath your hooded, lusty eyes. Smirking, he pulled you onto your stomach and towards the end of the bed, his cock inches from your face.

“Suck,” He demanded, which you happily obliged too.

Despite your hands being cuffed, as much as you wanted to touch him, to help glide your hand over his length, he had told you no touching. You did the best you could with your mouth, slightly gagging once he began to fuck your face at his own pace. You could feel that he was close, considering the sounds of his groans got louder and his cock continued to twitch in your mouth. Taking a hold of your hair he dragged your face closer to the base of cock, although it was getting sort of uncomfortable. It was hard to breath, hard to think, under the pace of his unrelentless face-fucking. On his last thrust, he pushed incredibly deep down your throat, groaning loudly as he let his seed spill into your mouth before pulling out, leaving you to be a coughing mess

“Y-yellow,” You panted and coughed almost immediately. Changbin bent down to be at eye level with you.

“You need me to slow down, baby?” He questioned, pushing some strands of hair out of your face.

“Yeah,” You chuckled, “Just needed a breather. But, can you take the cuffs off me? I want to touch you.”

Without a second thought, Changbin leaned forward to unclasp the cuffs before tossing them to the side and pushing you back against the bed as he pressed kisses along your face and neck to help you feel a little at ease.

“Color?” He questioned as he pulled away to look at you.

“G-reen,” You stuttered, feeling eager to have more of Changbin.

Once Changbin nodded in understanding he moved to position himself between your legs again, wanting another taste of your sweet juices, though, you wanted something else.

“Please,” You whined once you felt his lips press butterfly kisses along your inner thighs, “Fuck me, please.”

Changbin pulled back with a smirk adorning his face as he sat back and pulled his shirt off, along with his slacks and boxers. You, on the other hand, couldn’t help but stare at his toned chest before your eyes diverted down to look at his red, hard cock. He was huge, a lot bigger than you had ever taken before and you just wondered how on earth it was going to fit.

“Like what you see?” He teased before spitting into his hand and moving his hand along his length.

You nodded eagerly at Changbin before reaching your hands out to pull him closer to you to capture his lips in a fiery kiss. One of Changbin’s hands found purchase in your hair whilst the other continued to pump his cock before slowly moving it up and down your wet folds.

Without warning, he thrusted his cock into your walls fully as he sheathed himself into your warmth, stretching you out to the hilt to accommodate for his thick girth. You let out a choked moan as your hands gripped rather harshly onto his biceps. As much as you wanted to kiss Changbin and devour his lips, he pulled away so that he could look into your eyes. His breath hitting your face once you felt him pant, your whimpers and moans mixing in with his.

“Fuck,” Changbin groaned, taking a hold of one of your legs to place over his shoulder, helping him glide further into your pussy, “You’re so fucking tight.”

“You’re just-” You panted when he hit a new spot, “Big. You’re huge.”

Changbin couldn’t help but chuckle at your already fucked out state, his hands moving to hold himself up on either side of your head, pushing himself up enough so that he can move a hand down to your clit. His fingers immediately caused your body to shake as your lips let out a sinful whine in response. Your hands moving from his biceps to his hair to tug at the loose strands. Even though the pull of his hair made him groan, it only seemed to push him further as his hips sped up and his finger rubbed vigorously against your clit.

“Daddy,” You moaned breathlessly, “Gonna cum.”

Changbin’s thrusts only increased from there, he could feel the way your cunt was hugging his cock so deliciously, the way your walls were tightening with each thrust. You were so damn close and as you were about to voice just how close you were, Changbin pulled away, leaving you to be a whining mess.

“Changbin,” You pouted as you watched him slowly pull out.

“Not yet kitten,” He chuckled as he moved to the side to grab the vibrator that he took a hold of earlier, “We have to have some fun first. Turn over and get on all fours.”

You knew better than to disobey, so you did exactly what he asked, maybe even shaking your ass a little to encourage him to get back to work. Changbin smirked at your eagerness before slapping your ass and gripping tightly onto your hips as he entered once again, groaning instantly at your tight walls.

“It feels as if I haven’t even fucked you yet from how tight you are,” He groaned, removing one of his hands on your hips to place the vibrator against your already swollen clit.

“Shit,” You whined, “Fuck daddy, that feels too good.”

“Yeah?” Changbin groaned, “Does that feel good kitten?”

At that time, Changbin pulled your body up flush against his front, one hand holding the front of your shoulder and the other still holding onto the vibrator against your clit.

Your own hands move down to grab at the flesh of your thighs, fingers digging into the flesh as he presses the vibrator harder against your clit. There is no need for words, your whines filling the room and Changbin’s low and deep groans following suit as your head pushed back to lean on his shoulder.

“Cum for me,” You teased, interlacing his hair in your fingers once you reached back.

“You first kitten,: He groaned, eyes shutting tightly as he placed a hickey on your neck.

“Choke me daddy,” You encouraged, moving his hand from your shoulder to your neck.

Changbin’s loud groan only encouraged you to push him harder, his eyes moved to meet yours as he held you tightly. You bit your arm to add more of a stimulus as Changbin pushed you more towards another ripping orgasm. Your body was on fire and fuck, you hadn’t felt this good in so long.

Changbin could tell you were about to cum from the way your walls clenched ever so tightly around his cock and the way your whimpers were getting louder. He tossed the vibrator to the side, swapping it for his fingers as he rubbed your swollen bud roughly to encourage your orgasm to come through hard. Your whines were coming out louder than ever and Changbin moved to tilt your head to the side to smash his lips onto yours to muffle your moans, his hand leaving your throat to squeeze at the flesh of your breasts.

Your arms moved behind you to take a hold of Changbin to gain some kind of leverage so that when your orgasm hit you, you wouldn’t fall flat on your face as your body shook in pleasure. Thankfully, you did just that because your orgasm hit you harder than ever before.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” You moaned, eyes shut closed, lips moving against Changbin’s as he kept thrusting to help you through your high as he reached his.

“Can I cum inside?” He mumbled against your lips to which you nodded eagerly.

He did just that. Within seconds Changbin was filling you with his warm seed, hips at a steady force to draw out both your orgasms. Once you both came down from your highs, Changbin stopped his thrusts, instead staying there for a moment whilst the two of you continued to kiss.

Not long after Changbin pulled away and removed his leaking length from your core, before moving to grab a cloth to clean you up, only after he watched the way his cum fell from your core, moving to push it back into you which caught you off guard, but you were too fucked out to say or do anything. You laid on the bed, breathing heavily and still in a state of euphoria. Changbin had gently cleaned you up and was laying beside you as he lightly played with your hair, “You with me, baby?” He purred in your ear and you looked over to him and nodded.

“T-that was some of the best sex I’ve ever had,” You grinned and he laughed.

“Glad to hear it. We’ll get you something extra special tomorrow for all the surprises you gave me today. Just rest here for the night,” He laid down and before long, you heard his soft snoring. You felt your eyelids closing, but before sleep pulled you away, you cursed to yourself in annoyance.

If he was going to give you some of the best sex of your life, followed by treating you with love and adoration, you weren’t too sure if you were going to be able to keep these feelings aside.

554 notes · View notes

stutterfly · 4 years ago

Text

Swipe Right 04 | Patch Notes | JJK (M)

Rating: M (Explicit 18+)

Pairings: Jungkook x Reader, brot7 x friendship

Genre: E2L, fluff, angst, humor, [eventual] smut, PersonalTrainer!Jungkook, fuckboy!Jungkook, Nerd!Jungkook, Nerd/IT!Reader

Word Count: 15.1K

Last time on SR03: You joined a gym to increase your confidence and things progressed the way you want with your tinder match. You ended up in an unlikely competition with your friends when you went new bar together, leading to some unexpected conversations and shenanigans.

CW & Other Tags: Drinking, anxiety/panic attack mentions, muscle tearing injury mention, fuckboy Jungkook, pining, flirting, pick-up lines, sexual tension, Joonie is still Y/N’s best boi, soft Jungkook

Series: Activate your SIMCard

Fic: Swipe Right (4/?- Ongoing)

Do not repost.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

When’s the last time you felt as good as you do right now? Jungkook has pretty much stopped bothering you since that night at Seesaw, your date with Jason went well, and you’ve been sticking to your early morning workouts. You definitely don’t push yourself as much as trainer Hwasa, and you know you should really take advantage of the free trial, but it was overwhelming to take in so much at once and the session made you sore all over for days.

At least your stamina seems to be improving and you’ve discovered post-workout endorphins are real. Tonight is your second date with Jason, a date you’ve uncharacteristically elected to host at your apartment. You can place some blame on those endorphins for your boldness, with pining and disappointment composing the rest of it.

While your first date ended without a kiss, there was enough flirting to keep you hopeful. Neither of you were brave enough to do anything about it then, but you’ve mentally coached yourself into pretending like you have an unbreakable spine with nerves of steel. Meeting him only solidified your attraction, and you’ve resolved to take the lead, even though you feel like you have no idea what you’re doing.

It’s not like you often make the first move, but your confidence in him to do so has waned. You’ve been talking and playing games together online for months without any physical touch. Despite how he’s said he likes you and wants to see you again, you’d still be waiting if you didn’t suggest today.

You’re determined to show him what he’s missing by being a recluse. That’s why you’ve picked out the sluttiest clothes and the strappiest heels you own, decorated your face with expensive makeup, and even styled your hair instead of just letting it do whatever it wants for the day. You check yourself out in the full-length mirror on your bedroom door for the millionth time and pull down on the hem of your dress like it will somehow magically grow longer.

You don’t need the heels; no part of the night calls for them. You’re going to be sitting on the couch with him. If you’re lucky you’ll even move it to the bedroom you spent so much time cleaning. But they’re cute and they make you feel sexy, so you’re going to keep them on until he’s peeling you out of your dress.

Nerves bubble in your stomach, but you have to pretend like they’re not there or you’ll fixate on how hard you’re trying to be confident and cool. You’ll fall apart when it’s obvious to Jason how hard you’re pretending to be everything you aren’t. Checking your phone doesn’t help; it’s almost time.

Taking a deep breath, you pace through the confines of your apartment as you wait, and answer group texts from Jennie and Namjoon. You offer up a selfie, hoping any compliments will build your confidence enough to stave off the anxiety in your gut. A few devil emojis later, some keysmashing, and more than a couple hamfisted compliments from Namjoon, your ego is adequately inflated but you can always use more hyping. Maybe you should send it to Jimin to fish for more compliments? He’d indulge you for sure.

Instead you flop on the couch and open Tinder. According to Jennie, Jason is stringing you along; it’s been months, but you hate to admit that she has a point. So you don’t. She’s been telling you for a while now that she thinks you should pursue other suitors. While you object to her assumptions, she has more experience with this kind of stuff. It’s not exactly something you want to believe, not when you’ve put in so much effort for literal months.

You want to believe in Jason being awkward and dorky and that’s why it’s taken so long for the two of you to hook up. He’s shy and super introverted, but so are you. So why are you the only one trying to make things happen? You want to believe, but at this point you’re uncertain enough to heed Jennie’s advice and keep swiping any time you find yourself in a situation where you’re waiting on him. Like now.

You have your reservations about swiping while you wait for your date to begin, but you can practically hear Jennie cheering you on. He’s late anyway, and it will keep you busy until he arrives. You open the discovery tab and swipe left on a couple incomplete profiles. Most of the guys on here don’t put in any effort. How are you supposed to want to give any of them a chance when you don’t even get a tiny snapshot of who they are?

When you pass on yet another fish pic profile, a blue frame appears around the next guy in line. It takes a moment for your brain to register the name along with the duck-faced photo as someone familiar.

[Jungkook said: Your legs remind me of oreos 🥴 wanna know why?]

How fucking dare he? You match with the intent to ream him out and leave.

You: I told you not to fucking find me on here

It takes only a few seconds before you see the dots move on his end, like he was waiting for the moment you would answer, and it keeps you tethered to the conversation.

Jungkook: Princess!! I couldn’t help myself how are you

Jungkook: Surprised you didn’t block me

You: Don’t worry I’m gonna

Jungkook: it’s bc you wanna know huh

You: ???

Jungkook: Your legs

Jungkook: Like oreos

Jungkook: I wanna split them n lick the cream from the center 😜

Electricity rumbles in your gut, carrying heat and a surge of excitement to your cunt that threatens to flood your panties. You swallow hard and squeeze your thighs together as you stare at the screen. Embarrassed by the response his antics elicit, you scramble to formulate a coherent thought.

You: I wish I could unread 🤢

Jungkook: Aw but that’s one of my favorites

Jungkook: Just like you 😘

You: 🙄

You: I hate you so much

Jungkook: So much that you matched with me?

You stare at the message like a clever response will come to you and when it doesn’t you bite your lip. He’s got a point. Haven’t you learned your lesson not to encourage him? Your eyes scan the top of your phone for any notifications from Jason. Nothing. At least this is keeping you distracted. That’s what you tell yourself.

Jungkook: You’re still here which means 👀

You: It means I’m tired

Jungkook: Of?

You pause for a moment. Namjoon and Jennie can’t know how anxious you are about Jason. It’s the guy’s last strike with them and he hasn’t even met them yet. Jungkook, an impartial third party, might be able to lend an ear. As much as you don’t care what he thinks, you need an outlet for the anxiety in your chest. You start to draft a word-vomit. Jason has been so hesitant to see you in person again and now he’s late. Maybe if you just put it out there to someone you’ll feel better.

Jungkook: If you need to sleep how about a massage?

Jungkook: I’m good with my fingers 🥴

Stupid. In what universe could you confide in Jungkook? Deleting your word-vomit before you can send it, you start to type something else, but your thumb accidentally taps enter at the exact wrong moment.

You: You know what? I want you

FUCK. Goddamn you, sausage fingers.

You scramble to rewrite the sentence but Jungkook is quicker. He has to know it was an accident, but you’re still fucking mortified.

Jungkook: 😈

Jungkook: My place

Jungkook: Ten minutes

You: *to stay off my profile

Jungkook: 👉👌?

You: YOU KNOW I DIDN’T MEAN THAT

You: 🤢🤢🤢

Jungkook: 😩

Jungkook: Now you’re just playing games with me princess

Jungkook: Can’t say I mind just fuck me up 🥴

You: Don’t you have a princess to fuck in another castle? Maybe she can stroke your tiny ego

Jungkook: Ouch felt that from here

He goes quiet and you close the conversation out. Setting the phone down on the cushion beside you lasts all of two seconds. When your phone buzzes twice, you know better than to answer, yet you feel compelled to look.

Jungkook: Hey quick question

Jungkook: Is this the most you’ve used the app to talk with someone you like? 👻

Just like that you unmatch with him and take a moment to seethe. Distraction or no, he’s not worth the mental energy. He always seems to draw you in like a pretty little thirst trap and drain you of your sanity. Not engaging is the safest option so why do you always end up doing so? Maybe it’s that shitty little part of you that gets excited any time he shows you attention.

There’s a gullible girl within you; she sets your pulse on fire when he feigns even the slightest interest, fills your head with wind when he brushes against you, and floods your eyes with tears when he walks away. Still, she wants him to look at you, even if it means he’s really looking through you. You hate her. Why can’t she learn that you deserve better?

You check the time again and wince. Jason is really late now. Not even a text. Or a phone call. Maybe it’s traffic?

Try to relax. Nothing bad is going to happen. You’re going to have fun tonight.

You start up a game to take your mind off the options available to explain his absence. When you’re invested in a game you often lose track of time, but tonight you’re hyper-aware of every minute that passes. You bite at your freshly painted nails during loading screens, chipping the red from their edges. Sounding casual is difficult when you’re worried, but you attempt it anyway via text. It’s ten more agonizing minutes of waiting before your phone buzzes with an answer.

The controller drops to your lap and immediately tears begin to sprinkle your thighs with the manifestation of your heartache.

He forgot.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

An earthy scent fills Namjoon’s apartment as he carefully transfers the last of his plants to a bigger pot, filling in the edges of its roots with fresh soil and patting the edges down with care. His plants have needed this, maybe even more than he needs the mini hangout that will soon follow. The kitchen table is covered in dirt, but at least he’s almost done.

It’s not his fault Jungkook showed up earlier than expected. At least he’s quiet now. It’s been a while, but he’s finally stopped asking about how much longer it will take, so he must either be invested in the show he put on or asleep on the couch.

“Almost done,” Namjoon loudly announces. “Can you text Tae?”

“Kay.” Jungkook yawns as he stands and heads towards the bathroom. “Jin was already cooking when I left so it should be ready soon.”

“Good. I’m hungry,” Namjoon says, carefully transporting the plant to the desk in his bedroom.

As he’s on his way to clean up the mess on the table there’s a soft rapid knock at the front door. The moment he opens it and finds you standing before him, he knows something is wrong. Even the ratty hoodie covering your shoulders can’t hide the effort you’ve obviously put into your appearance tonight. While your makeup seems to have fared rather well, your eyes are red and your cheeks are puffy. His mind automatically assumes the worst about your second date and his jaw tightens.

“What happened? Did he hurt you?”

“He never showed.” You throw your arms around him and openly sob.

“Oh, Y/N…” His arms are around you in an instant, hugging you close while keeping his dirty fingers at bay.

You press your cheek against his chest, letting the tears fall freely. “I’m sorry. I know you probably have plans tonight, but I wanted to stop here—” You choke out a loud sob and wipe your nose with your sleeve as you look down at the floor. “I didn’t want to drive upset but you weren’t answering and I just—”

“Shit. Exam today. I left it on silent.” He pats his pocket to make sure it’s still there, wiping as much dirt as he can on his jeans before placing his hands on your shoulders. “Hey, it’s okay. Deep breaths.”

Jungkook emerges from the bathroom quietly with a furrowed brow and pursed lips. Did he hear your voice or is it his imagination? Unsure if you’re some wishful remnant of earlier texts, he peeks around the corner.

Heels: black, strappy heels with a velvety smooth red undersole. Has he ever seen you in heels? If he has, it’s never been something as flashy as these. His gaze travels up the smooth, exposed skin of your legs until it hits the hem of a skirt. The dark fabric seems a little short; it clings to your thighs, riding up as you embrace his friend. It’s hard not to notice how well it accents the curve of your hips and more importantly: your ass. He’s definitely never seen you in something so revealing, not even on nights where you’ve joined them for dancing.

He pauses for a fraction of a second, eyes trained on the swell of your ass before moving up to find the disappointing sight of your favorite hoodie barring much else from view. Namjoon’s arms outline your shape, but the places his hands rest are far too respectable to glean much else other than simple blueprints.

With his dick leading his steps, Jungkook opens his mouth to announce his presence with a joke. He means to selfishly steal a glimpse of your entire ensemble with some snarky comment but you choke out a sob and his stomach lurches to form a whirlpool of apprehension. His mouth remains open, but his words are swallowed back into the dark swirling pit that now wrenches his gut in circles.

Namjoon looks up just in time to read the confusion and shock on his features. He shakes his head and cups yours against his chest, wordlessly signaling Jungkook to keep quiet.

“Is there anything I can do? Do you wanna talk about it?” Namjoon asks, hoping you don’t see the man behind you slowly backing away like he’s just approached a rabid animal.

You’re sobbing. Why are you sobbing? What happened? Was it what he said before you unmatched? Jungkook tiptoes back into the kitchen without a word. He leans against the counter and shoves his hands in his coat pockets, trying to piece everything together. Did he cause this?

You screw your eyes shut to try to keep the tears inside. It’s no use. They always seem to find a way out. “He didn’t show up and when I texted him, he… he said he forgot."

“What?"

“I thought it would be good after the arcade date, you know? Like, good chemistry. He’s weird. I like him! He seemed interested and we made these plans and he just—” you choke out another loud sob. “God. Am I really so fucking forgettable?”

You wanted your friends to be wrong so badly that you ignored the fact that it’s been like pulling teeth trying to get Jason to meet up again. For him to forget completely is like a kick to the face that leaves all the teeth intact, maybe a little bloody, but stubbornly intact.

“Y/N, no. It’s not your fault. You deserve better than this fucking guy.”

Jungkook swallows hard. This definitely doesn’t feel like a conversation he should be hearing, but it’s loud enough to carry through the entire apartment. Kitchen, bedroom, or bathroom: his options are limited, but he knows there’s nowhere to go to pretend like he can’t hear it. It’s not like he can just walk out the front door now.

“Do I? It’s seems like a fucking pattern, Joon. I fall for people so easily and they always make me feel like an idiot for trying. Donghyun. Seojun. Jason. Jungkook… It doesn’t matter. No one fucking wants me.”

Jungkook tenses. He may not know all the names on your list, but his is among them all the same. Has he really hurt you so much?

“Hey… Don’t think like that,” Namjoon says, his voice soft as he rubs your back. “You know your worth, and it’s not measured by how well someone else can see it.”

Every time you think you’re done crying, fresh tears begin to roll down your cheeks. “I’m tired, Joonie.”

“I know. I’m sorry. We'll get you home."

As you step back to look at him your ankle rolls, and you begin to fall. Hearing the scuffle, Jungkook winces and peeks around the corner. Namjoon has a good enough grip to stop you from fully tumbling to the floor, but you’re definitely not stable by any means.

Although you now face Jungkook, you’re too distracted by your ankle to notice the extra pair of eyes on you. He allows himself to stupidly linger within your line of sight, raking his gaze across your form to take in the details of your attire, right down to your choice of earrings. Even with a red nose and puffy, smudged eyes, the time you’ve spent on your appearance remains evident.

You did all that for some guy who didn’t even show? If that’s how you dress for your dates then his innocent perception of you is completely wrong. What kind of moron would pass up the opportunity to peel you out of that dress and dive into your cunt? You look incredible. What the fuck.

"God. Shit. Fuck! Fucking stupid heels!” You huff out your exasperation and let a small pitiful laugh pass your lips as you right your stance with Namjoon’s help. “You know, I spent hours getting ready and now I just look stupid. I feel stupid.”

“You don’t. You’re not,” Namjoon insists, his palm squeezing your shoulder.

“Namjoon, I shaved my entire body. Do you know how long that took?”

Jungkook forces himself to withdraw into the kitchen. If you see him now you might murder him. He purses his lips into a thin line and tightens his grip around his arms. In an instant he imagines hiking your dress above your hips and parting your legs so he might brush his cheek against the smooth expanse of your thigh all the way to your core. Are your panties as slutty as your dress? Are they cute? Lacy? Plain?

“Geeksquad…” Namjoon sighs loudly. “I really don’t need to know— Hold up. Wasn’t this the second date?”

“Are you slutshaming me?” The tired laugh that follows sounds more like you, but it still hurts his heart. “I’m stepping up my game.”

“Nah. You do you,” he says, a soft smile on his lips that’s obviously full of pity. “You want to stay and get some food? I think I have some sweats you can change into.”

Tires screech in Jungkook’s mind. Is he going to be trapped here for the night? Without dinner? What kind of karmic torture is the universe putting him through?

“No, I’m sorry,” you sniffle, wiping your face with the sleeves of your sweater. “Jennie wants me to come over but I—I didn’t think I could make it with having a full meltdown. You were on the way.”

“No need to apologize.” He pulls you into another tight hug. “Do you want me to walk you back to your car?”

“No, no it’s fine. I’m right in front. Thanks, Joonie.” Your phone begins to buzz in your hoodie pocket. You pull back and wave it at him, already on your way to the door. “It’s like she knew. I’ll talk to her on the way. Thank you for listening to me cry for the millionth time.”

“Always. Text me when you get there, okay?”

“Will do, mom,” you tease with a soft laugh.

“Zip up your hoodie.”

You grimace at him with narrowed eyes but heed his advice on your way out. You also pull your skirt down as far down your thighs as it will reach. Men are gross and you trust virtually none of them.

Jungkook waits until he hears the click of the lock on the door to breathe a loud sigh of relief. Namjoon rubs the back of his neck and stares at the door. He worries about you.

“Yikes. That Jason guy is a dick huh?”

Namjoon swivels on his heels and rounds on his friend. “Like you were so much better to her?”

Jungkook casts his gaze to the floor. “I didn’t stand her up.”

Even he knows that argument is flimsy.

“Guk.”

“It was always just a joke.”

“It’s not though. She really liked you, man. I asked you not to mess with her.”

Memories have warped Jungkook into a jaded man: untrusting although not uncaring. Guilt is the only thing churning in his stomach as he thinks of you. He never expected to genuinely hurt you. Somehow things twisted into a gnarled mess that never really felt like more than a playful game of tug-of-war. But these kinds of games only work when the people involved know that they’re playing. It’s shitty when one pulls another into the mud when they’ve never agreed to participate.

Faced with the reality of how you consider him now, it dawns on him that he’s dragged you into the mud face-first without even the slightest resistance. You’ve stood up and you’ve even yanked the rope in retaliation, but you never should’ve been in the mud in the first place. Regardless of his own emotional ineptitude, he knows you never deserved that humiliation. No one does. The weight of his actions sits heavy in his gut.

Still he tries to justify himself. “All I do now is make pass after pass and she’s the one who turns me down.”

“You said it earlier yourself,” Namjoon sneers, irritated by his friend’s immaturity. “It’s always a joke. You’re never serious and she knows it. Look, you don’t have to like her back. She’s my friend and so are you. Just don’t lead her on and stop with the mind games. Be honest with her. The least you can do is apologize for being a dick.”

“That’s— I feel like… I don’t know how.”

Jungkook can’t bring himself to tell him of your conversation earlier tonight. It just adds to the guilt piling on his conscience. Namjoon used his own words against him and the worst part is it makes sense. It’s so much easier when it’s a stranger at a bar or a random encounter at a club, but you’re neither of those things. He lumped you into that category all the same.

Namjoon clicks his tongue and puts an arm around Jungkook’s back. “Starting with ‘I’m sorry’ can go a long way. She’s a good person and I know you guys can get along. Things were going well until you made that bet, right?”

Jungkook opens his mouth to speak and then closes it. “Mmm.”

“Not every girl is a Jiseo, Jungkook.”

“Yeah.”

“I think…” Namjoon sighs and shakes his head. “I don’t know. Can you try to just... tone it down? Maybe try to patch things up?”

“Okay.” Jungkook’s brow furrows and he chews his lip as he mulls over Namjoon’s words. He reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out his keys. “You ready?”

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Your head dips forward as your fingers glide across the keys. It's hard to concentrate on your task when you're this distracted by your own thoughts. You stare at the monitor with furrowed brows. Namjoon grabs the back of your chair and leans forward to tower over you.

"Went that well, huh? Did he blow the second chance he didn’t deserve?"

The motion jerks you backwards and you grip the armrests of the chair to steady yourself. Despite your best attempt to curb the irritation in your expression, your frustration remains apparent. You sit back and tilt your head up to look at him, trying to think of something to say, some excuse to not reinforce the "told you so" waiting in your future, not after you showed up at his apartment sounding like a dying whale a few days before. When no ideas come to your immediate aid, you click your tongue and let out a heavy sigh as you turn your attention back to the screen.

"Geeksquad," he presses. "Talk to me."

You exhale through your nose and briefly purse your lips before obliging his plea. The words are quick and quiet so you don't run the risk of bawling your eyes out again. "He canceled.”

Namjoon steps back and the pressure on your seat is gone. He places a large palm on your shoulder. "I'm sorry. Do you want to talk about it?"

Despite wanting to give the opposite answer, you shake your head. You don't trust yourself to speak, but you'd like to tell him. He's clever and you know he'll likely find a way to get it out of you with minimal effort anyway. Still, you don’t think you can manage the words without crying like a baby and you don’t want to do that when the morning has only just begun. Silence falls between the two of you as he gives you time to decide if you want to open up.

After a moment of tapping away you finally give in. You know you’ll feel better after you cry.

"He said he had to stay behind and help do clean-up for the party he was at. And that’s nice and all, but we had plans. I feel crazy. I should be glad that he’s so kind, right? Like that shows he’s a good person, right?” Your voice has cracked but it hasn’t quite broken.

He sighs and flops in the chair on the other side of his desk. “Y/N… I think you’re asking me for answers you already know.”

“But tell me anyway,” you press, tears welling in your eyes. “Our first date went so well. So why-y-” Your voice breaks.

“Hey.” He reaches across the desk and brushes his fingers against your arm. “I know you want me to help you make excuses for him... But you deserve someone who values your time. Clearly he’s just looking to waste it.”

“But—”

“Y/N, you don’t need someone like that. If this is what he’s like before you’re even together, then what kind of effort is he really going to put into a potential relationship? Not enough. There are so many people out there, people that would trip over themselves just to have the chance to be with you. I know you don’t want to hear it, but I think it’s a mistake that you even gave him another shot. He blew it. Twice. Delete his number. Forget him.”

“I know,” you croak. Tears fall from your eyes and you quickly swipe them away, focusing on the task at hand.

Namjoon is right and you know it, but you’re kind of irritated about it. You know it’s not really him you’re mad at, but Namjoon is a good enough placeholder while you try to sort through your hurt feelings.

You muster your most monotone voice as you stand. “I updated your drivers and deleted any cached files that might have been causing issues. Is that all?”

“Don’t be mad at me,” he pleads, rising to block your path as you step towards the door. “You have a big heart and I hate seeing it stepped on.”

In a matter of seconds you melt into his embrace and bury your face into his shirt. “I hate how fast I like people.”

“I know.” He pets the back of your head softly and squishes you against his chest. “It’s gonna be okay. How about udon later? My treat?”

“With beef?” you ask with a sniffle.

“With beef,” he agrees.

“Gyoza?”

“Mhm.”

“And takoyaki?”

“...You’re pushing it.”

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

You slide the appetizer tray across the table towards Namjoon. “Here.”

He shovels a dumping into his mouth right before he speaks. “I could eat this every day for the rest of my life.”

“Could you afford it though?” you tease, taking a sip from the bottle of saké and crinkling your nose at it before passing it to him.

“Not if you’re joining me,” he snorts. “You’re supposed to pour it.”

“No, thanks.” You push the tiny glass full of liquid back towards him.

"Wow. Are you guys on a date?"

You know the source of the voice before you even crane your neck to see Jungkook.

"Pfft." Namjoon waves the question off with a deep laugh.

Despite finding the scenario of ever dating Namjoon absolutely absurd, you can’t help but feel a little insulted by the volume of his laughter. Namjoon’s hangout night was supposed to take your mind off of how unwanted Jason made you feel. Instead, the pit of insecurity within your stomach grows into a thick, tangled brush of hostility. Is being seen with you really so laughable?

“Why would we be?” you snap, turning your attention back to your bowl.

Heat settles in your face and you purse your lips, not daring to look at either of them. You try to wrangle some noodles to shovel in your mouth before you can say something stupid. Their eyes are on you. Jungkook is definitely confused but not alarmed by your hostility. It’s something he’s grown accustomed to. But Namjoon knows when he hurts your feelings, every time, and it’s easy enough to disarm your irritability.

“She’s way too good for a mess like me,” Namjoon says with a light laugh.

“Why are you here?” you ask, tone already softer than before.

"Post-work snackie," he answers, all too cheery for your sour mood. “Came for the noods. Mind if I join?”

He looks to the rosy-cheeked Namjoon for his answer, as you set your hoodie and purse down in the space beside you to give him yours. Namjoon betrays you by scooting over to make room on his side of the booth. You’d mentioned to him before that you’d eventually like to fix things with Jungkook, to somehow make steps for peace. But you only have so much mental energy left to give today.

“Not tonight, Jungkook,” you plead with a sigh.

The frustration in that puff of breath is enough to make Jungkook hesitate. He blinks a few times, wide-eyed. “What?”

“I just… can’t handle your bullshit tonight.”

Jungkook tries to break the uncomfortable tension with a grin. “No bullshit tonight. Promise.”

“No.” Your answer is firm and somehow so fragile that it makes both men worry their brows in the same fashion. “Please, just go away.”

He shoves his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket and takes a few steps back. He doesn’t know what to make of your demeanor, but he can put enough together to know the basics. You’re upset, maybe not at him for once. However unlikely, that’d be a blessing. Maybe you’re still upset about that guy that stood you up a few days ago. If that’s the case, he probably shouldn’t stick around and risk letting on how much he knows about that.

He tongues the side of his cheek and nods, forcing a smile to his face. “Alright. I’ll just order it to go. Planned on that anyway. Catch you later.”

Guilt wracks your nerves as he walks away. The moment you look back at Namjoon, you’re faced with a wall of disappointment that threatens to topple the scale of decision-making in Jungkook’s favor.

“You’re judging me for that,” you mumble. The noodles between your chopsticks slip back into the broth.

“Little bit,” Namjoon admits, watching his friend sulk over to the entrance waitstaff. “You know he told me he’s trying to be nicer to you.”

“What? When?”

“The other day. We hung out.”

He keeps his answers short and ambiguous, hoping your curiosity has been piqued. Maybe this is the golden opportunity he’s been hoping for to patch your friendship.

“Was this before or after he harassed me on Tinder?”

Namjoon’s heart sinks into his butt. Of course Jungkook would make reconciliation harder than it needs to be. “When did he do that?”

“That night I showed up at your apartment like a big crybaby.”

“I went over his place for dinner after you left. Jin wanted to try a new recipe out on us.” That seems to at least make you pause.

“You guys talked about me?”

“Yup.” He goes back to chewing his food, knowing he’s got you hooked.

Your incredulous stare does nothing to pull information past his lips. “Joonie. What did you say about me? What did he say?”

“Mmm?” He slurps up a long noodle. “A lot of things. But they’re not really my words to tell.”

“No one likes clickbait, Joon.”

“Look, all I’m saying is that he told me that he wants to fix things. If you want specifics, maybe we can invite him to come eat with us. It might be easier for the both of you to talk about it over good food.”

You sigh, seriously considering his words even as you shake your head. “Joon, I’m already emotionally compromised. I really don’t want to cry in front of Jungkook tonight.”

“Why would you cry? This is a night for good things only. Namjoon-approved and protected. You don’t have to talk about anything you don’t want to... I just thought it might be nice to make some good memories with good friends.”

You roll your eyes but hold your pinky out for him. “Fine. But this is Joonie-Y/N time. You’re cutting into that allotted time slot, you know that right?”

Namjoon rests his elbow on the table, preparing to pinky swear to whatever you’re about to suggest. “Conditions?”

“He sits next to you, he doesn’t make fun of me if I cry, and…. he doesn’t get to talk.”

“Y/N.”

“Fiiiiine. He can talk. But he better be as nice as you say he’s trying to be.”

“We allowed to talk about Jason?”

“If it comes up…” you sigh. “You know, if he’s mean to me and I cry then you have to deal with it.”

He clasps his long pinky around yours. “Deal. But with how all that just went down, you gotta go tell him to come back. He won’t believe me if I do it.”

“Don’t let him be mean to me,” you plead, tightening your grip on his pinky and locking eyes with him. “Good vibes only.”

“He won’t be mean. Good vibes only.” Namjoon nods with a soft smile. “He really is a good person where it counts, Y/N.”

You push your things aside and force yourself to find Jungkook. He’s leaning against a wall near the entrance, scrolling through his phone while he waits for his order. You quietly request to your waitress that you’d like his food brought to your table. She’s nice enough about it, but your stomach churns regardless. It’s the anxiety.

You gingerly poke a finger against his shoulder as you approach. “Um. Hey.”

He seems startled at first, but smiles when he realizes it’s you. “Hmm?”

You take a deep quiet inhale, trying your best not to get lost in the butterflies his charming smile conjures in your gut. You try to tell yourself it’s anxiety and nothing more. Apologies are hard and scary. That’s all.

“I’m… sorry for being rude. I’ve had a rough week but I shouldn’t take it out on you. Come eat with us, please. Namjoon’s buying anyway.”

His eyes seem to light up with surprise and a warm smile deepens the creases around his eyes and mouth. The hope that these feelings of attraction would evaporate with time is a flame swiftly snuffed out and replaced with a burning heartache that deems denial useless. Even now, pangs of infatuation lurk below your feelings of disdain, breaking the tension of its surface with each beat of your heart.

“It’s okay,” he reassures you. “I shouldn’t have invited myself when I saw you guys. I should really get home and shower anyway.”

He looks so clean that you’d assumed he’d already showered. It’s not like you can smell him from where you stand. Maybe he’s lying, but at least you get the sense it’s coming from a place of politeness.

“Jungkook, I want you to come eat with us. Besides Namjoon wants someone to drink saké with him and I cannot keep doing it.”

“I see.” He offers a small laugh and rubs the back of his neck. “Are you sure? You seemed pretty against it before. What changed?”

“Namjoon told me you’re trying to be less of an asshole to me.”

“Did he?” he licks his lips and tries to hide his pleased smile. “I’m surprised you believe him.”

“He also promised me I could punch you in the dick if you make me cry,” you lie, completely stone-faced.

If he knows that’s a falsified statement, he doesn’t say anything. He looks past your shoulder to quirk a brow at Namjoon, who appears to be furiously texting at the table. Jungkook’s phone buzzes a few times against his palm and he’s fairly sure he already knows who it is.

“Come on. I already asked them to bring your food to the table.”

He reads Namjoon’s messages as he trails behind you.

NAMJOON: If you seriously want to apologize stick around, make her laugh, just listen when you need to

JUNGKOOK: Don’t worry

JUNGKOOK: I got u

Before Namjoon can send a text saying that Jungkook's response has the opposite effect, you’re peeking across the table, trying to get a glance at the screen.

“Who’s that?” you wonder. Namjoon’s not usually one to be so secretive with his texts.

“Hmm?” he raises his eyebrows at you and pours you a shot. “Stupid. Don’t worry about it.”

“Ha. Haha. Ha.” You gesture at your face. “You say to the girl with anxiety.”

Crinkling your nose at the glass he offers, you slide it across to Jungkook as he settles in next to Namjoon. “Here. I’m done drinking that stuff tonight.”

He regards it with a quirked brow. Something about your demeanor really has changed, but looking between you and Namjoon does nothing to answer the question of what that may be.

“Okay, so on reddit this guy was reaching. He’s going on about the symbolism in the red scarf—”

Your eyes gloss over the moment he mentions reddit. Is there anything you care less about than Joon’s favorite modern literary discussion threads?

“Got it. Not worrying about it,” you interrupt, bringing your bowl to your lips to slurp some of the broth.

Jungkook hides his smirk by throwing his head back to drink his shot. Namjoon is a genius. It might be scary if he ever decided to use his intellect for nefarious purposes. Lucky for the universe he uses it to protect others, like a real superhero would.

As the three of you dine together, you’re surprised to find that Jungkook isn’t being as annoying as he usually is. In fact, it seems the more he drinks outside of any competitive setting, the more affable he becomes. Maybe there’s something to Namjoon’s clickbaity words. He’s almost the person you remember meeting before the Halloween Party, maybe even more pleasant.

You’re grateful when the two of them start telling embarrassing stories so you can listen and laugh at the way they slur their words and interrupt each other. Laughter makes your heart feel light and full, and brave enough to take the last step to prove to yourself you’re done chasing Jason. As the two men fight over the last piece of gyoza and distract themselves over dessert, you quietly decide to clear your text messages from Jason. Your finger hovers over the delete icon for a second before purging his contact information from your device entirely.

It’s freeing to not have to worry about what you should send him. It’s frustrating to have tried so hard for so long and have nothing to show for it, but at least there will be no conversation history to pick apart anymore. It should feel perfect. That will definitely show him, right? You don’t have to reflect for more than a couple seconds to reinforce the memory of how little he actually reached out on his own.

He still has your number. The only time he ever called was on your first date. He never texted you unless you spoke first. He probably won’t even notice you’re gone. He’s probably relieved he won’t have to answer you anymore. He probably thinks you’re desperate for trying for so long. You don’t realize how well you wear your anxiety.

When you look up Jungkook is watching you while he chews with his mouth wide open. “Hey, why do-” He hiccups and swallows. “Why do you look so sad? You should have some ice cream.”

He scans the table for something to offer you, but he can’t seem to find what he’s looking for in his drunken stupor. After a few seconds his eyes finally land on his own plate where the other half of his red-bean cake sits.

“Do you want my taiyaki?” He holds the tail end of the fish-shaped cake out to you. “It’s really good!”

You can’t help but laugh at the unexpected sweet absurdity of the night. “Jungkook, I don’t want your half-eaten cake.”

He frowns and looks at the pastry. “Is it because I bit it? I’ll break off that part for you if you don’t want your mouth to touch that.”

Although Jungkook definitely is more drunk than Namjoon right now, the older man can’t help but be amazed by how well this is going. He loads up on green tea ice cream and digs his spoon in it. He shouldn’t have been so worried. Jungkook can put away the act when he wants to, especially once alcohol is involved and there’s nothing to prove. You guys are actually getting along. What a relief.

“No, really it’s okay.” You laugh.

Jungkook is already breaking the pastry apart in his hand, watching as it crumbles to pieces on his plate. He blinks a couple times and closes his mouth in a frown.

“I thought that would work.” He sounds utterly defeated.

The waitress walks over just in time to watch Namjoon stick a heaping spoonful of wasabi in his mouth. You're too busy laughing at Jungkook's forlorn expression to notice the way Namjoon's eyes water. His eyes drop to the ice cream he thought he shoveled into his mouth. Right next to the pristine, untouched scoop of green tea ice cream, he finds his spoon resting in the hunk of wasabi adjacent to it. He should really pay attention more. He pushes against Jungkook's side and motions that he needs to get up. The younger man spares a glance his way but Namjoon waves him off while mumbling something about the bathroom.

The waitress tries to keep her composure and looks between the pair of you. "How is everything?"

"Great! Could you please bring us some water?" you ask in your sweetest voice, realizing the two men with you should at least try to start sobering up.

You expected to have Namjoon crashing on your couch on a Friday night, or at least be dropping him off down the hall at Hobi’s place. Jungkook was not part of the plan, but you can’t exactly let him drive home inebriated. You know he’s not your responsibility but you’d feel guilty making him call for a ride home when you’re perfectly capable.

Although you hate to admit it, you’ve had fun tonight. If you’re being honest with yourself you’d like to see what he’s like without Namjoon nearby to police his moves. He’s been nice enough, but you want to know for sure this isn’t an act. You want to ask him if he’s made another bet, or playing some game since he hasn’t hit on you all night. Before you can get your line of questions in order, Jungkook turns to the server with large, pleading eyes.

"Oh! Can you bring some more dessert, please?"

He may be a grown ass man capable of charming the pants off of women everywhere, but right now he is little more than a child begging for seconds. Regardless of everything he's done, your heart softens, endeared and embarrassed by his drunken request to your server.

The waitress nods. "Sure, what would you like?"

His eyes fall to you for an answer. "What do you like?"

You blink at him. "Me? I thought this was for you."

He nods. "Mm. We can split it."

"Um, how about... tempura?"

"Banana?"

Jungkook’s voice is full of anticipation and his upturned eyebrows seem to bargain for agreement. It’s so hard to believe this is the same man who has been so cold to you for so long when he seems so open and warm now. You remind yourself it’s probably the alcohol. It’s probably some secret promise to Namjoon. Some bet with Hobi. Some game he’s playing. It’s probably anything other than what your dumb crush-stupefied heart wants it to be.

The waitress looks to you for approval and you give a nod. "Sure. Banana tempura."

The waitress awkwardly smiles as she gathers the empty platters and gives you a chance to break away from his endearingly drunken face. He smiles across the table at you and wrings his hands while you pick up your phone to check on those nonexistent messages. Maybe if you distract yourself enough you can ignore the feelings that are catching up to you tonight.

“Thank you for inviting me back over,” he says, reaching to the nearly empty bottle of saké to pour himself another shot. “I’ve... been wanting to talk to you."

"I’m surprised you didn’t blow up my phone.” It’s supposed to be a joke, but there’s a harshness in your tone that exposes a venomous bite beneath it.

He downs the shot and plants his elbows on the table, leaning forward on them. "I wanted to say it to your face."

“Oh, really?”

You don’t allow yourself to entertain the idea that he’s about to say anything groundbreaking, but you look away from your phone to meet those dark, twinkling eyes. Suddenly there’s hope in your gut. You’re desperate to put some distance between the feelings jumping to the surface.

“I’ve been a dick.”

“No shit.”

Though the fog of alcohol consumes his apology, his eyes focus on you with clarity. “I’m sorry.”

How long have you waited to hear those words? You never really thought about what you might say in response. His apology sits in the air between you for a moment before he speaks again.

“I’m really sorry. Namjoon is right. I am trying to be less of an asshole to you. We don’t…” he catches himself, “I don’t have a lot of close friends who are women.”

“You don’t say.”

That seems to cut through the fog. He hangs his head and focuses his gaze on the table.

“I never wanted to hurt your feelings.”

“Well, you did,” you mumble.

“I know... I’m sorry.” It’s like now that he’s said it once, he can’t stop saying it. He’s not sure how to make you understand. Maybe you do understand and you just won’t forgive him. Can he really blame you for that?

“Why?” you question; it’s the last barrier protecting your heart, the only thing keeping you from caving. “Why do you care now?”

Jungkook’s head lolls to one side as he sits back against his seat and stares at the nearly empty bottle of saké. “I don’t know. I guess I was thinking… I wish I had a save to reload. Before I messed up.”

It seems that’s the best you’re going to get out of him right now. The waitress sets down a beautiful platter of banana tempura meticulously arranged around a simple mound of ice cream, topped with a single cherry and drizzled with decorative chocolate. She places three waters on the table and you both take a moment to politely force smiles and pause your conversation.

He licks his lips and stares down at the plate and then back up at you. “Can we start over?”

“Depends. Are you gonna go back to being a dick when you’re not drunk anymore?”

“No, no. I mean it. I wanna try to be friends.”

“For real?” You swipe the cherry, pop it in your mouth and tilt your head to regard him. You can’t let yourself fully believe him. You want to. The earnestness in his drunken features charms you, but you hold onto a shred of disbelief as a crutch. You’ll wait for the moment he reverts. Hopefully this time you’ll be prepared for the whiplash that comes along with it.

“For real.”

You reflect on his apology as the pair of you dig into the dessert. “Maybe. Prove it.”

He perks up. He’ll take a maybe. Maybe means the damage he’s done might not be irreparable. The guilt weighing on his conscience feels lighter. It’s a start.

“I will. I’ll find some way to make it up to you.”

You roll your eyes, unwilling to put stock in his words. “Is this another bet with Hobi? About how quickly you can make me forgive you?”

Jungkook shakes his head furiously, wisps of wild black hair whipping his cheeks. “No, I mean it. I promise.”

You drag your lip through your teeth as you teeter on the line of acceptance. “What is a promise from a liar worth?”

He drops the flat of his palm to the table and he pouts. “Hey. I mean it…. Hm. If I break my promise…” His eyes scan the table for anything he can use to change your mind. He looks at his arm pressed against the table and then back at you. “You can choose my next tattoo.”

Your eyebrows rise into your hairline. “Really.”

He eagerly nods. “I’ll get whatever you want wherever you want. Just. Not my face.”

“I want that in writing,” you snort.

Jungkook glances around the table and pulls a napkin from under the plate of tempura. “Do you have a pen?”

“Jungkook, you don’t have to—”

“I’m serious.” He’s not taking no for an answer.

You shake your head and rummage through your purse to supply him with a pen. He smooths out the napkin he’s chosen to use as a conduit for his promise. When he’s finished writing he slides it towards you.

Princess

I’m sorry. I can make it right.

I promise. Please give me another chance.

If I blow it you can choose what & where my next tattoo goes.

As long as it’s not my face. Let’s be friends? #promise.com ♡ Jungkook

Of course he signed it with a heart. Despite his inebriation, his handwriting is still neat. Well, that’s one hell of a promise.

“Okay.” You fold the note and drop it into your purse. “We can try.”

His face lights up as he stuffs a piece of tempura into his mouth, happily chomping with his mouth wide open. He reaches for the saké but you slide a water in front of him instead.

“Friends don’t let friends get totally shitfaced at Hajime.”

He frowns at you but seems to accept your answer with a pout.

“Speaking of which… Where is Namjoon?” You crane your neck to look around the restaurant.

“Friday noodle nights common for you guys?” Jungkook asks, digging into the dessert between massive gulps of water.

“No, not really. We’re usually watching movies at my place or hanging with Hobi. But Namjoon wanted to take me out because I was sad,” you say, finally catching sight of your friend on the other side of the bar.

Jungkook’s chewing slows and he regards you with furrowed brows. “Sad?”

Before you can decide how you want to answer, Namjoon is scooting into the booth next to Jungkook and reaching for a piece of tempura. “Mmmm. What did I miss?”

“Y/N was telling me why she’s sad.”

Namjoon nods like he understands exactly what you’ve been talking about. “He’s a dick, right? Like how do you even stand someone up, not once, but twice? Makes no sense.”

“Joonie—”

“And I know what you’re gonna say, but I disagree. It has nothing to do with you or how you look, Y/N. You don’t need to workout like a maniac to try to change anything. Especially not for someone like Jason. I can’t even imagine—”

“Joon.” You click your tongue and slide a glass of water in front of him. “Please, shut the fuck up.”

As you glare at him, he looks at you with raised brows and wide eyes. Unsure what to do now that he’s obviously fubared the conversation, he casts his guilty gaze to his cup and brings it to his lips.

Jungkook stares at you with furrowed brows, trying to wait to let you fill in the blanks even though he’s itching to ask about everything. He picks another piece of tempura and stuffs it into his mouth, but when you remain silent the impulse to pry takes over. “Jason?”

“He stood me up…” you start, but you close your mouth when you realize you’re going to try to defend him. Your throat feels full, like you can’t get enough air through with a giant knot in it like this. You have to whisper so your voice doesn’t crack. “Twice.”

The couple drinking at the table nearby becomes a much more interesting place to rest your eyes than the two men across from you. Tightening your jaw doesn’t prevent the gloss from coating your eyes. Thinking about it makes you feel so stupid and desperate. Bending over backwards a thousand different ways to accommodate him couldn’t convince him to put in even a minimal amount of effort one time.

Jungkook’s eyebrows shoot up in genuine surprise. “Twice?”

The hurt you feel in your chest scorches your cheeks until anger is filling your head like a teakettle ready to release an unhealthy amount of steam right in Jungkook’s face.

“That’s what I get for giving people second chances,” you snap as you focus back on him.

Joon says your name like it’s a warning but you don’t need it. You feel guilty enough for projecting your anger onto Jungkook with a petty one-liner.

“Sorry. It’s not your fault. I just…” Your throat closes around the rest of the words.

Before an uncomfortable silence can settle over the table, Namjoon inches the bottle of saké with his fingertips until it’s in front of him. “Dating is tricky. Jason sucks. It sucks that he hurt you. But you don’t have to twist yourself into whatever you think he wants anymore. And that…” He pours the pitiful remainder of alcohol into a shot glass and slides it towards you.“...is worth celebrating.”

Jungkook silently nods his head in agreement. It’s obvious you’re on the verge of tears and he doesn’t want to be the thing that pushes you over the edge.

A soft smile curls the corners of your mouth. “That’s true, but…” you slide the glass back towards him and steal the last of the banana tempura. “I can celebrate back at my apartment. Finish your water so you’ll be awake enough to join me. Both of you.”

Jungkook perks up and happily reaches for his water while Namjoon gives you a proud, yet confused look. It seems like a new start to something. What that is remains to be seen.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Jungkook watches intently as the colors of the city shine through the windows. He runs his fingers over the soft blanket you keep in the backseat, mouthing the words to the song softly playing from your dashboard. Namjoon has been talking nonstop from the passenger seat, which is fine with Jungkook since he’s feeling a little tired. The last session of the day was a bit more intense than intended, but the client left happy and covered in sweat. A success. But Jungkook is sore and exhausted. Physically and socially.

A sense of relief floods him at the memory of his conversation with you. Things may actually be okay from here. Who would have thought crashing your noodle night with Namjoon could have yielded such results?

His head bobs to the music as his eyes wander across the scenery outside until he grows bored and they drift to the interior of your car. A graduation tassel swings from your rearview mirror as you turn. He follows the movement of the tassel when it swings towards you and his eyes land on your face, or at least what he can see of it from this angle.

You look focused and calm while conversing with Namjoon but your posture is a bit rigid and your hands remain planted on the steering wheel in complete control. There’s something about this candid snapshot of your persona that puts him at ease. Your voice is a soft contrast to Namjoon’s, but equally enthusiastic.

He tilts his head as he leans back in his seat, pulling the blanket over his lap and twisting the fabric around his palm. Your eyes flicker in the rearview mirror, catching his. He gives a tiny wave and rests his head against the cushion, fighting the temptation to close his eyelids for longer than a second. The more he listens to you laugh, the more he finds himself smiling. It’s goofy.

It’s also kind of cute.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Jungkook is surprised when Yoongi answers your knock; he thought he would be asleep. He’s even more surprised when you make yourself at home on his couch and guilt him with a puppy dog pout to make you a drink, and he complies. When Jungkook asks the same, Yoongi tells him there’s beer in the fridge while measuring out the ingredients for your cocktail. The suspicious sour ache of jealousy stabs his gut as he moseys to the fridge but he quickly shakes it off, settling on the floor in front of the tv with a beer in hand.

After a couple hours of drinking, laughing, and playing Jackbox games with the three men, you’re feeling much better about everything. Life is good. Friends are good. Alcohol is very good.

It doesn’t take much to get you drunk. You’re about as much of a lightweight as Hobi and for better or worse everyone has come to know that fact. What’s nice about drinking in Yoongi’s apartment is that you don’t have to walk very far to get home. Things don’t get awkward with the three of them together; it’s actually kind of nice, like a mini Saturday night pregame.

Soon Namjoon and Yoongi are snoring on the couch with a movie playing in the background while you stand in the kitchen with Jungkook. He pours another drink for himself, though he knows it will mostly likely remain unfinished. Tomorrow may bring a massive hangover, but tonight has been surprisingly pleasant. He feels like he’s finally on okay footing with you, maybe even on the road to serious repair. Amazing how well you get along when inhibitions are replaced by inebriation. If that’s what it takes, he’s determined to keep it up.

As he turns his back to place the liquor bottle in the cabinet by the fridge, you swipe a sip of the drink he’s concocted. He spins around in time to see you wrinkle your nose and stick your tongue out.

“Hey, that’s mine!” he pouts.

“Blegh. You can have it. Yuck!” Your face screws up again at the aftertaste.

He drunkenly giggles as he slides the drink closer to him. “What, don’t like sour?”

“Too sour!” You reach for the water bottle Yoongi gave you hours ago and attempt to rinse the puckering sensation from your mouth.

Amused, he tilts his head and watches you take gulp after gulp. He purses his lips and holds back the comment itching to escape, deciding to enjoy a sip of his drink instead. You shimmy out of your hoodie and tie it around your waist and his eyes lazily follow the motion of your arms, noting a slight difference in their musculature. Some errant thought about their shape leads him back to an earlier unaddressed comment that he’s finally comfortable enough to prod you about.

“What kind of workouts are you doing?” he blurts.

Suddenly you feel very exposed. You straighten in your seat and suck in your gut, hyper aware of every imperfection of your body on display to someone so in shape. You immediately begin to fidget with the sleeves of the hoodie you just tied around your waist.

“You don’t have to tell me. I just—” he pauses, exhaling a small breath and looking down at his drink as though he’s wary of continuing the thought.

“No, no it’s fine,” you assure him, too curious to say otherwise. “What is it?”

“When Namjoon said…” he sighs and takes a sip, smacking his lips and licking them before looking back to you. “I thought maybe I can prove myself to you by helping you come up with a plan.”

“You don’t have to do that.” You plant an elbow on the counter and lean on it.

“I want to,” he insists, reaching out for your arm.

His hand is like fire engulfing your skin and your eyelids flutter at the sensation. Instinctively you place a hand over his and rub your thumb anxiously over it. He looks down to where your thumb grazes his knuckles and then back up to your face with a surprised smile.

“Um… Everything,” you say, trying to sound as vague and nonchalant as possible so he doesn’t judge you for your lack of knowledge.

“Like, full body?”

“Uh...” You’ve managed to make a habit of going to his gym a few days a week while successfully avoiding him, but it seems that time is coming to an end. “I… machine.”

“Oh. Like at a gym? Did you join one?” He seems genuinely curious.

“Um, yeah.” Suddenly you pull your hand back when you realize the speed at which your thumb is moving.

“Which one?”

The more you say, the more suspicious you seem, but is saying less any better? Jungkook rests his elbow on the counter and simply looks at you but you don’t look back. A slow smile spreads his lips as the possibility dawns on him.

“Princess… Did you join Iron Kingdom?”

You puff your cheeks and force the air through the tiny opening of your mouth. You don’t offer any sort of confirmation and continue to avoid his gaze.

“And you didn’t tell me?” he playfully prods, drumming his fingers against your forearm.

“I… Yeah,” you admit, your voice small as you stare at the counter. “I didn’t want you to know.

“Why?”

“Because.”

“Because?”

“I don’t want to give you another thing to make fun of me for.”

“I’m not gonna make fun of you.” When you don’t respond he tugs on your arm. The motion is enough to angle you towards him. “Hey. Hey. Hey. Hey.”

“What?” you grumble, staring at your lap even as you face him.

He takes your hands in his and drunkenly waves them around. “Heeeeeeeey. Look at me.”

He pouts until you reluctantly drag your eyes to meet his. “What?”

“Everyone starts somewhere,” he says softly. “Even me.”

The shift in his demeanor catches you off guard and you subconsciously lean forward as you relax. “Well I started with Hwasa, but I was too sore to ask for another session with her.”

He nods sympathetically, clapping his hand over yours. “You should try again.”

You shake your head. “I don’t know. I feel like…”

“Like?” he prods when you let the silence trail for a bit too long.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” you sigh. “I feel like I don’t belong there. I look so stupid reading the instructions on the machines. I don’t even think I’m doing it right.”

“What?” He makes a sound between a laugh and a grunt. “There’s nothing wrong with making sure you don’t hurt yourself. Nobody knows how to instantly do things. If they tell you they do, they’re lying.”

“Or they’re Namjoon,” you say with a roll of your eyes, glancing over at your snoring friend.

He smiles and clicks his tongue against his teeth in thought. “I didn’t know what I was doing when I started.”

“Really.”

You’re skeptical. It’s always seemed like he was born in a gym. Or maybe hatched. He’s kind of inhumanly gorgeous. Maybe he sprouted from a flower like a mythical god.

“For real. First time doing squats. I think it was gym class? Yeah, I was like twelve or thirteen. I was… not very athletic. Didn’t play sports or anything. Kind of shy. Didn’t really have a lot of friends either…”

The way he trails off makes your heart hurt. Puberty isn’t nice to most people. It’s hard to imagine a world where someone like Jungkook isn’t instantly popular and naturally fit. While you’re not exactly the same person you were at twelve, a lot of your interests and personality quirks have remained the same. You’re still painfully awkward at times. How did he manage to overcome something like that? Is it not ingrained in him like it is you?

“Just a big dork, you know?” He laughs. “I see this girl I had a crush on, Amber. She’s looking at me. I think I have to impress her. So I’m stacking up weight and I think I’m hot shit and go too fast. Know what happened?”

“Please don’t tell me you dropped it on your foot or something,” you plead, squeezing his palms at the way he’s building up the story. The secondhand embarrassment is too real.

“I hear a pop.”

“No!” you gasp, bringing your hands to your face as if you can stop the past from happening.

“And pain. So much pain. I don’t remember putting the weights down but I remember ending up on my back, staring up at the ceiling.”

“Oh no. Knees?”

“Worse.” He points down to his crotch. “Pulled a muscle in my groin. Had to sit the rest of the day with an ice pack on my junk. Was not fun. My point is: don’t give up. You learn more as you go. Give Hwasa another shot.”

His anecdote gives you pause but you’re desperate to cling to the comfort of your anxiety. “My free trial with her is almost up and I don’t think I’ll be able to afford to keep at it.”

“More excuses,” he teases, taking a sip of his drink. “At this point I should just—” His eyes widen, a lightbulb practically forming above his head as he puts his cup down. “I’ll be your personal trainer!”

“Uhh…”

“No, no. It’s perfect. We’re friends now.” He smiles, proud of himself for finding a way to prove himself to you. “I can teach you everything you need to know about working out. I can set up a plan for you and figure out the best way to help you achieve your goals. Oh, man we’re gonna have to figure out your goals. What do you—”

“Hold on. Hold on,” you interrupt with a nervous laugh. “You’re missing the part where I still can’t afford it.”

He rolls his eyes and grabs your glass, holding it under the sink to refill it. “Don’t worry about that. I’ll cover it.”

You’re stunned into silence as you observe the expanse of his back, searching the black fabric of his t-shirt for the definition of his muscles. He sets the cup in front of you, waiting for your agreement. When it doesn’t come, he second guesses himself. Did he overstep?

“I mean if you’re okay with that. Would-would you want to do that?”

The innocent drunken sparkle in his eyes makes your stomach do a flip. When you woke up this morning you hardly thought the day would include getting sloshed with Jungkook and having him offer to take you on as a fitness trainee. It’s like he’s opened himself up just enough for you to see the soft mess beneath. You like it. You like it a lot and you kind of hate yourself for it. While you don’t know if you can trust him past the evening, you find yourself hoping you can.

“You won’t make fun of me?” you ask timidly before bringing the cup of water to your lips.

“It’s my job not to make fun of you. We start where you’re at and go from there. And like I said, I’ll cover the fees for as long as you want. No pressure.” He smiles at you. “What do you think?”

“...Okay,” you murmur with a nod of your head. “If you’re serious, then I’m… I’m in!”

His lips part to expose his teeth as his grin spreads. “Yes!”

As he brings his hand up in a sign of victory, his knuckles knock against his glass. You reach for the cup with impaired reflexes, hands fumbling over the slippery surface in conjunction with his. The sour contents spill across the counter as the pair of you struggle to right the glass. While he’s quicker at getting the glass upright, your brain is faster at processing what to do next and you already have a paper towel in hand, wiping up the liquid as fast as possible.

Your eyes follow the spill to the edge of the counter where it’s flooded over the side. Acting on instinct rather than rational thought, you quickly press down where the liquid has begun to pool in his lap. As you fold the paper towel over, you rub frantically as if the action will keep the stain from setting into the fabric. He shifts in his seat and squeaks out a sound so small that you can’t actually tell whether it came from him or the chair.

It only dawns on you how inappropriate your actions are when you glance towards his face and find his wide eyes gazing back at you. His cheeks, already flushed from inebriation, seem twice as vivid and his mouth is parted slightly as though he means to speak, but he doesn’t. Maybe he doesn’t want to embarrass you, but it’s too late for that.

Your palm stills against his crotch as the shape beneath becomes clear in your mind. For a second you’re frozen, but your lips work quickly to mumble an apology. It feels like an eternity before you will your drunken fingers to release the paper towel. The clearing of Jungkook’s throat is followed by a tiny giggle, then a full on snort. A grin spreads across your lips and you soon follow him into a fit of laughter. You thank the universe for the small mercy of being drunk enough to push your embarrassment to the side for the time being.

“I wasn’t thinking!” you wheeze, tears in your eyes from laughing so hard. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. It’ll dry.” He laughs, dabbing his pants and shirt in the absence of your hand. As he stands he pulls the hem of his shirt away from his torso and looks down at it. “Really. It’s my fault I’m so…”

“Sticky?” You quirk an eyebrow at him, a blatant flirtatious action thinly disguised as a joke as you eye the blot of liquor staining the lower half of his shirt.

Both of his eyebrows raise and a mischievous smile curls the corner of his lips. “...Wet.”

You consider his answer with a pleased hum and turn back to the counter to polish off the last of your water. You’re friends now, right? It can’t be that easy. But it kind of is. So what’s wrong with a little harmless flirting between friends?

Drunk brain, who happens to be a notorious hoe, assures you it’s great. Rational brain might disagree, but she’s taking a well-deserved nap. You’ve at least had a good night. You’re not sure it matters at this point who is giving you the attention you crave. It feels good. So good, in fact, you’re sure you can indulge drunk brain a little more.

You’re drawn to the inky shapes swirling around Jungkook’s bicep as he wipes the counter down. Every time your eyes begin to focus on an object marking his skin with some kind of meaning, he moves and you lose it. It’s brush strokes, isn’t it? You’ve definitely seen a paintbrush and mountains and a knife surrounded by roses. A swathe of grey and purple connects to each one you’ve seen, but you know there are more.

Before you can blurt that you’re dying to know how many he has and how bad it hurt to get them, he turns toward the sink and begins to work his t-shirt up his torso. You watch in awe as the toned muscles of his back are exposed. The image of the bright phoenix does little to hide their definition.

Trying to will yourself to look away is of no use; he’s hot and you’re drunk enough to acknowledge that fact. Of course he peeks at you just as the shirt slips over his head to find you open-mouthed and dazed, ogling him as though there isn’t any shame in the world that could pull your gaze from him. He turns to the fridge to give you a moment to compose yourself, nabbing a water bottle from the shelf in the process. You’re clearly not ready for the way he quickly spins on the balls of his feet to face you.

Y/N.exe has stopped working.

Your fingers hang in the air suspiciously until you lazily drop them. But Jungkook dons a toothy grin and has the audacity to look shy. He mockingly shields his chest from you with the shirt clutched in his hands.

“Princess! Are you… checking me out?”

Somehow you don’t let the fire in your face turn your brain to ash.“Pfft, no.”

“What’re you doing, then?” he teases with a laugh as he sits, scooting his chair closer to yours.

“Counting,” you reply simply, brow furrowed in concentration. To drive the point home, you poke at his flesh everywhere you can make out an object drawn into its surface.

“How many?” he wonders, watching with cloudy, amused eyes.

“Mmm…” You trail your finger down his arm and back up, following the curve of the brushstroke around his shoulder. “Can’t tell if this counts as one.”

He shrugs and rests his head on his palm as he leans against the counter. “What do you think?”

You hesitate when he quickly quirks a brow.

“I think… A lot.”

“Definitely accurate,” he says with a grin.

Awkward laughter steers the pair of you towards your waters. The TV in the background provides enough noise to steal your focus; you’re grateful for the distraction from the attractive man beside you. Drunk brain is telling you to touch him again, to grab his hand, to feel the touch of someone just for the night, to ruin every good thing this night has started to rebuild between you. Anything to stave off the emptiness of your bed, the 2AM thoughts of failure, and the drunken desperation to find someone, anyone, who will fall in love with whatever image you happen to project on your dating profile.

Heart pounding wildly in your chest and blood rushing through your ears, your fingertips tap against the countertop as they inch closer to where his arm rests. Luckily your futile attempts at nonchalance go unnoticed. Jungkook anxiously turns his water bottle over in his hands, trying to gather words in his brain before freeing them from his mouth.

“So…” he begins.

You jump at the sudden sound and retract your hand while he’s not paying you any mind.

“I was thinking. About that guy…”

You wish you could at least pretend you don’t know who he’s talking about. You’ve vented plenty tonight, but still your heart sinks. Deleting Jason’s digital footprint from your life was simple and quick, but the feelings of rejection and disappointment that swirl in the back of your mind spill forward the longer his pause continues.

“I know this probably means nothing coming from me. But I just— I know you liked him, but you can do better.“

Your posture stiffens at his reassurance and you find yourself grateful he’s not looking at you. Do you deserve better?

“You deserve better,” he affirms, as if somehow aware of your internal struggle.

“Thanks,” you murmur with a distinct lack of enthusiasm as you stare down your glass.

It's cry hours, isn’t it?

Realizing you don’t believe him, he takes a deep breath and nudges you with his elbow. “Hey.”

“What.” You refuse to look up because you know you’re on the verge of an irrational stream of tears over some guy you hardly knew. It’s stupid and you know it. But the wet warmth coating your eyes tells you it’s coming regardless.

“I’m... sorry that you don’t feel like you do. Some people can’t get over the weight of their own shit. But that doesn’t mean it’s on you to pick it up for them. If they can’t even bother to carry themselves to meet you halfway, then they’re not worth the effort.”

It’s a perfect time for your heart to seize up and it takes the opportunity to do so. The advice he offers doesn’t stave off the tears, but it resonates deep within you. Namjoon said something similar. It makes you ache to hear it again from someone else. It just leads you back to the same questions you keep asking yourself. What’s so wrong with you that people don’t even want to try? Is it your personality? Physicality? Is it a lack of confidence? What is it?

‘I can’t even get a shitty guy to like me. Maybe I’m the one not worth the effort.’ You don’t dare say those words out loud. Pity isn’t something you’re looking for. A warm body to fill your bed maybe, but not pity.

“Sounds easy when you say it like that,” you murmur, trying in vain to will the tears not to fall. You’re quick to swipe at them and force a smile. “I guess I have trouble giving up on people. It’s not that I’m naive. I try to be realistic. But no matter how many times I get fucked over I just... hope for the best in people. I can’t help it.”

He pats your arm reassuringly. “That’s why you deserve better.”

If only it was as simple as hearing those words and magically being able to believe it. A big chunk of your confidence has crumbled away and there’s no clear path to restoration. As the warmth of his palm comes to rest against your arm, you place your hand over his and squeeze.

“I don’t know if I believe it,” you pause and thoughtfully add, “but thanks for saying it.”

His eyebrows raise in surprise and he offers a tiny, “You’re welcome.”

A shaky chuckle passes your lips. All of his features seem to soften the more you look at them. Maybe it’s the drunken gloss coating his big brown eyes or the way his lips slightly part as he looks back at you. The tightly coiled nerves in your belly urge you to unravel.

Although it's a subtle gesture, he licks his lips as he smiles and it practically seals your fate. If you don't leave now you're bound to do something you'll regret.

"It's late. I should sleep."

Or masturbate.

The speed at which you launch yourself from the seat is unpleasant. You're not sure what's worse: the dizzying vertigo or waves nausea sloshing in your gut. Jungkook's reflexes may be delayed but he's a steady mass of muscle the moment you reach out to steady yourself.

"Whoa. You okay?"

"Maybe," you mumble, finding yourself drawn to the heat radiating from his skin. Instead of walking away, slump down to rest your cheek against his shoulder and sling an arm around him. You might be drunker than you thought. "I don't know."

"Hmm. What do you need, princess?"

"Just wanna stop spinning."

His stance shifts to better accommodate the additional weight you press against him.

"How about you take over Yoongi's bed tonight," he suggests softly. "He's passed out anyway."

"No, I should go home." You peel your cheek from the warmth of his skin.

“You gonna make it there?”

“Yes,” you say indignantly. The world may be a bit wobbly right now, but you’re certain you can handle the short stroll down the hall.

"Okay.” He smiles, loosening his hold. As you step back your foot catches on the leg of the chair and it drags loudly against the floor.

Despite Jungkook’s attempt to keep you standing by grabbing at your arms, he loses his balance and he drops to his knees. The chair clatters to the floor before your ass does. Luckily his grip keeps your back and head far from impact, but you’re too cramped to be comfortable.

“Are you okay?” he asks. Those big, dark doe eyes of his are frozen in fear and a frown adorns his face. He looks so serious it’s ridiculous.

You can’t help but laugh, wiggling backwards to make space between his body and the heat steadily building between your legs. “I’m fine. Stop making that face.”

“Huh? What do you mean?” He sits back on his feet and tilts his head to the side in confusion.

He breaks into a fit of giggles when you dramatically mimic his expression. You roll back onto your elbows, making another ridiculous face to further mock him.

“No, no. It’s more like…” Jungkook takes the opportunity to lean over you, reaching with one hand to squeeze your cheeks to pucker your lips. You blow a disjointed raspberry at him before pulling his hand off to the side.

While the clamor of the fallen chair did nothing to rouse the men on the couch, the sound of Jungkook’s hearty laughter is loud enough to disturb the rhythmic snores of Namjoon.

Jungkook sits back on his heels and peeks over the countertop. He seems miles away, even as you sit up and scoot in to bring yourself closer. Laughter fades into a quiet hum as Namjoon’s snoring resumes.

You're lost in the abyss of his gaze as he turns his head to look back at you. All that remains in your brain at this point is a foggy desire to tug on the silky spirals of his ebony hair until he presses himself against you one more time.

Your hand settles for following the curves of his bicep instead, wondering how it might feel to be wrapped within his embrace. Some might say liquor makes you bold and stupid, and they're right. They should say it. But it also makes you feel invincible, like a goddamn glowing Mario star power-up.

"Princess?"

Enraptured, his eyes follow the motion of your hand as it slithers around his arm and squeezes. Unable to ignore the prompt, he answers with a flex against your palm. His ego swells when you shiver and noticeably hold your breath.

You know it's a mistake. You know it goes against all of your sober judgement, but you find yourself doing it anyway. It doesn't matter that you still harbor a grudge that holds your heart hostage. Drunk hoe vibes are taking the wheel. You’re tired, drunk as hell, and just want to feel wanted. And he's here.

Every fiber of your inebriated being is singing in unison: Why the fuck not?

Heartbeat pounding against your eardrums, you attempt to gauge his reaction as you lean towards him. It's hard to tell from beneath half-lidded eyes, but you think he's leaning towards you too. If he isn't you suppose you can always play it off like you're just a mess. It's not far from the truth. Focusing on the tiny freckle below his lip, you allow yourself to finally close your eyes and go for it.

But the universe isn’t here for your dumb boozy bitch mistakes.

The front door swings open with the sound of jingling keys dropping to the floor. It snaps you back to reality and you freeze, realizing there's no defense that will save you. Jungkook is quick to disengage, poking his head above the counter to acknowledge Hoseok’s presence with a wave. But his friend is completely enamored with the company he’s ushering towards his bedroom.

“Yeah, baby? How bad?” Hoseok whispers to the giggling girl wrapped around his arm.

He pins the stranger against the door to drag his tongue across her neck. Their bodies move rhythmically in a slow grind, a precursor for what’s likely to come. Jungkook purses his lips. How long until one of them notices him watching? It’s not until the girl moans Hoseok’s name softly that Jungkook spares a panicked look towards you.

Oh shit.

You gesture for him to get down before he draws their attention. The last thing you want to explain is why you’re on your knees in Hoseok’s kitchen with a very shirtless Jungkook standing close by. He obliges your silent request, squatting down beside you.

“Feel how hard you made me?” Hobi chuckles quietly.

The girl giggles, her voice growing closer. “You gonna fuck me right here or what?”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Naughty girl. What if my roommate wakes up? Looks like he has a friend over too. You really want them to see what a dirty slut you are?”

You can hear her giggle as he directs her where to go, failing to keep his voice down so you hear every filthy thing he says after. Your hands fly to cover your mouth. Is your skin made of lava? You want to blame it on the close proximity to Jungkook, but the only thing you can imagine is Hoseok’s dick and the eager mystery woman about to be impaled by it. Can you scrub your brain of this memory? How are you supposed to look at him after this?

Jungkook watches your face carefully, trying his hardest not to laugh. Your eyes look so big he’s pretty sure they could roll out of your skull any second. Are you really so innocent? The way you cover your mouth says you are, but maybe it’s just the shock. Maybe you’re just trying to not laugh. Or scream. Or breathe? It kind of looks like you might pass out.

Are you gonna make it, princess? he wonders.

Once you hear Hoseok's bedroom door close, you fuss your hands over your hair and scramble to your feet, releasing a big exhale. The hushed words fall from your lips while you scurry away like a timid mouse. "I should go."

Despite being too far to make contact, he reaches out as you round the counter. "Wait—"

As soon as the word leaves his mouth he struggles to come up with the rest of his statement. There’s no reason to keep you here, except to maybe laugh a little about what just happened to smooth over any second-hand embarrassment. So why doesn’t he want you to go?

He swallows down the blank space caught in his throat and searches every last crevice of his brain for something of import to say. Guilt weighs his gut down, though there isn’t a clear cause. He’s probably screwed something up again without realizing it.

“Thanks for giving me another shot,” he says softly.

You breathe a sigh of relief and offer a tiny smile as you half turn, your hand already on the door handle. “Don’t blow it.”

He nods with a smile. “I won’t. Goodnight.”

“‘Night,” you mumble.

As soon as the door is closed you practically sprint down the hall to lock yourself within your apartment. Maybe it will also lock out all the mistakes your brain has made tonight.

The world feels colder now that you’re not pressed against the human-shaped heater that is Jeon Jungkook. Thinking about him makes your heart swell and ache at the same time. Regardless of how badly you wish you'd asked him to bed, you know loneliness is fleeting and guilt would be a far worse feeling to be saddled with.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Jungkook picks up the fallen chair, finding your soft, worn hoodie draped over it. Rubbing a thumb over the material, he considers running it back to you, but he can't remember which door is yours. It's not like he's been here often enough to know. Instead he slips his arms through the sleeves before flipping the hood over his head.

He settles on the floor in the space he previously claimed for the night, pulling a blanket out from under Yoongi's ass. Yoongi rolls his head up, a scowl on his features though his eyes remain closed. He grumbles but lies down, facing the couch.

Jungkook regards his friend for a moment before deciding to drape the blanket over him instead of claiming it for himself. Jungkook rolls onto his side and fluffs the throw pillow under his head. As he watches the credits roll on the TV, he nuzzles into your sweater.

He closes his eyes, thinking of you. He knows he shouldn't linger on the little occurrences of the night, especially with how foggy his brain is. He can't trust anything about his memory.

Still he thinks of the way your fingers trailed along his arm and curled tightly around his bicep. He lets himself dwell on the tiny sound you made, the involuntary tremble of your body, and the subsequent hitch in your breath.

He smiles and inhales the subtle scent you've left behind. A new spark of adrenaline fans flames that inflate his ego, spreading warmth from his stomach up into his chest. The world may wobble around him right now, but the little magical warmth within his gut helps him comfortably drift off to dreamland like he's the world's most immovable object.

#smutcentralnet #jungkook smut #jungkook fic #bts fic #jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff #jungkook x you #bts fluff #jungkook fanfic #bts fanfic

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astaroth1357 · 4 years ago

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Demon Brothers React to MC Getting Kidnapped by Lesser Demons.

Watch out for minor first half spoilers!!

Lucifer

Kicking himself because he has to find out through Mammon that the MC is missing and he didn’t notice their absence himself.

The second the alarm gets raised he gets into a state somewhere between coldly rational and extraordinarily furious.

Definitely still level-headed enough to rally and organize his brothers for a search party but there's nothing but seething rage just rolling off of him the entire time. Probably-could-have-made-another-Satan type rage.

How well he keeps his composure will be based entirely on how long the MC is MIA. The first hour or so will be mostly put together but past that he'll start to slowly unravel as the panic takes hold.

At one point he even gets snippy with Diavolo over the phone and that's when you KNOW that he's reaching meltdown mode.

If he's the first to find the MC, his #1 priority is to get them away from whatever scum grabbed them and take them to the closest safe place he can find. He'd scoop them up so fast they won't even know where he came from, just whoosh! How'd I get on this roof??

Only once they're out of harm’s way will he circle back and deal with their kidnappers personally. You better be sure any damage done to his human will be reflected a thousandfold back onto their attackers. Probably coming back to the MC with some blood on him and is not going to care.

Relieved to have the MC back but restricts them from going out alone after a certain time now for their own good. If they need something that badly, they can come to him.

Also strings Mammon up by his toes that night for losing them in the first place.

"By the time Cerberus gets to you, I'll be sure you're only my table scraps…"

Mammon

The first to notice that the MC was being oddly quiet (thank their father for his text spamming habit) then found their stuff scattered and abandoned at RAD.

Told Lucifer right away and, oh boy, he is a mess: talking a mile a minute, punctuating his sentences with expletives, on the verge of tears, whole nine yards.

He left his human alone for what?? Like five minutes, if even, to go to the library and get themselves kidnapped?! What kind of guardian is he?!?

Already searching the place top-to-bottom without being told where to go or what to do.

He actually ends up a strange inverse of Lucifer. While Lucifer will start panicking more over time, Mammon will start panicking less as his fear escalates to all out anger. Give it a few hours and he’s not even going to be able to keep his demon form under control anymore.

You know this boy is legging it across the entire Devildom himself waving around some kind of hand-drawn "Have You Seen This Human?" flyer looking for any leads at all.

If he were to find the MC first, his first action would probably be to plant his foot right in the face of whoever took them. Hard. Then repeat until their skull’s a caved-in mess on floor. No mercy this time, just pure protective rage.

Following the fight, you'd think he was just reunited with his lost puppy. Lots of crying, hugging, and blubbering out apologies even when the rest of his brothers show up.

Would pretty much be glued to the MC's hip for at least a week afterward and makes more of a point to hang off of them in public now. They're his human after all, can't have anyone else getting the idea of pulling a stunt like that again.

"MC!! What'd ya go runnin' off for?? We're goin' home after I take out this trash, got it!!"

Leviathan

Wouldn't really want to believe it at first because it just feels too unreal, like, the same thing happened to Henry in Episode 86 of TSL when he was kidnapped by enemies of the Lord of Fools and it was up to his true friend to track him down…

Suddenly remembers that Henry was also tortured while he was taken and that really sets in the panic.

Unsure of how to help at first because he knows he's just a useless shut-in but Belphie of all people is the one to remind him that he does have one big advantage over his brothers: a fucking navy.

In an act of surprising backbone, he more or less demands a full fleet of ships from Diavolo and (honestly to his shock) he gets exactly that to comb the Devil’s Sea while looking for MC. Lotan even helps out!

If he were to be the first to find the MC (presuming they are indeed on a boat or something cause 🤷‍♀️) those kidnappers really shouldn't have challenged the third strongest brother in his natural element, eh? Those who aren't automatically lashed in the face or flung overboard by his tail get hung by the leg over the edge of the ship for Lotan to pick off one by one.

Sails back to shore with MC booming with pride that he of all people finally got to be their hero! Will literally be so happy if MC ever brings it up again, doesn't matter how much time has passed.

Things would settle back to normal pretty quickly after that, but he now checks up on the MC a lot more often and will even leave his room for them if they need to go somewhere and don't want to go alone. Can't have this turning into a rerun, you know?

"You hurt my only friend… So drown."

Satan

One guess how the Avatar of Wrath took the news. It's not swimmingly.

Unless your definition of "swimmingly" is a murderous rampage of toppling furniture, breaking windows, and swearing to curse right about anything that moves, in which case aptly put.

He gets stuck in an anger-induced tantrum for a bit before finally getting snapped back into coherent thought by Belphie and putting those mystery novels of his to good use. Smart boi takes second to Lucifer himself in the search, suggesting good locations for his brothers scout based on what clues they have to go on.

Of course, he's not content to just to call orders from the sidelines and is out searching himself like he's on the goddamn warpath. Doors? Who needs doors? If anything the hole I made in your wall is more efficient.

Should he be the first to find the MC he would coolly and methodically subdue any kidnapper he can get his hands on, release his human, and bring them home as soon as possible. They've been through quite enough today and don't need to see anything he's got planned for the bastards later.

But the second that Diavolo puts them in the castle dungeon, you best bet that Henry 1.0 is going to the LEAST of their worries. Who's ever wanted to play a life or death game of hide and seek with a giant snake and the incarnation of Wrath itself? First one caught gets the "quick" death! Any volunteers?

Might give the MC a mild scolding for going out when they shouldn't have but otherwise is just happy to see them back and safe. May act extra soft towards them for a couple days, just until the nerves of the situation finally wear off.

"Don't mistake this for mercy. I assure you, I don't know the meaning of the word."

Asmodeus

Highkey freaking out, like, almost as hysterical as Mammon when he hears the news.

Being the Avatar of Lust, he of course knows there's a whole lot of creeps out there in the world and he is utterly terrified that his poor MC has fallen victim to one at that moment.

For once, all thoughts of himself and his looks are out the window. What? It's past 2am and MC is still gone? I can stay up another hour! Dry shampoo and a washcloth counts as a shower, right? Who the fuck cares, where's MC?? Somebody find them already!!

Pools his contact list with Satan's and starts reaching out across the whole Devildom asking for people to be on the lookout and offer tips. Also begs Solomon to use his magic to help in the search (which he's more than happy to do anyway because he cares about the MC too)

If he were to find MC first it'd be one of those rare cases where he'd be seen really truly enraged. No cute banter, no playful flirting, just telling those worthless scum-vats exactly where they belong and exactly how he's going to put them there. Is it any surprise that he's also madsick with a whip?

Crazy relieved that MC is free, but now it's on them to help him clean up and get back to his prettiest self. I mean, he worried himself half to death while they were gone! All this dirt and sweat going to take three, no four, bathes to fully clean off!! Best hop to it~♡

"Touch them one more time and I'm going to set fire to whatever landfill trash like you crawls out of!!"

Beelzebub

It can't be happening. It honestly can't be happening. First he loses Lilith and now MC?? He can't lose two. He. Can't. Lose. Two.

Pretty much the mantra going through his head as he tears the Devildom apart with his bare hands.

It's 1000x worse than how he gets when he's hungry because at least then he might stop when he finally gets fed. Now it's either find MC or wait until he collapses from exhaustion and hope he doesn’t leave the whole realm a smoldering crater before he gets that far.

There's no reasoning with him either, the best the brothers can do is steer him in a direction and let him loose.

If he found MC first he probably wouldn't even realize it for a bit, he'd just keep attacking whatever or whoever is in front of him on his path of blind destruction. It'd take the MC literally flinging themselves at him or throwing their arms around him to snap him out of it but then it's back to sweetheart Beel.

Hugs ensue. Really tight hugs. Probably a few tears and apologies too (even if it’s not really his fault at all).

Woe to anyone who tries going for the MC once he’s sure he has them because they WILL be broken then eaten. He’ll encourage his human not to look, but some things just have to be done.

Would absolutely carry MC back home and refuse to put them down until the others force him to. The floor may as well be lava planning on taking them away from him too.

Wouldn't care as much about personal vengeance as his brothers as long as MC is safe. He'll trust that his family will more than punish the kidnappers (though chances are he already took a chunk or two out of a few of them during his rampage anyway).

Protective instincts up by 100 after this, though Belphie usually steps in and eases him back a bit when he's about to get suffocating. MC never travels without a buddy now, ever. He just can't risk it.

"MC, I-I'm sorry… I just couldn’t lose you too…"

Belphegor

Keeps the coolest head of all the brothers on the outside, but there's a cold fury building up in those eyes.

Pretty much takes charge of whipping everyone back into gear with a combination stinging remarks and heavy duty guilt tripping. May not be the nicest method, but it's effective.

"Asmo, grow a freaking spine and do something useful for a change! Mammon, this your fault to start with so you ought to be breaking your ass to find them! Satan, watching you is getting embarrassing, pull yourself together and think like you're good at it!"

His harshest criticisms get saved for Lucifer (big shock) but he only dishes them out when he sees his older brother really losing his grip or teetering on losing hope. If the “mighty firstborn” can’t keep it together then why should they even listen to him in the first place?

When he's not administering "motivation," he's keeping tabs on Beel's progression through the Devildom and trying to minimize the damage there. He's the only one that can get through to him long enough to change his course if necessary.

If he were to find the MC first, well, unlike Satan he doesn't have the forethought to save the torture for later. It's happening right here, right now, and you better bet that being the last born doesn't stop him from being a force to be reckoned with.

Waits with the MC for his brothers to catch up to them and deal with any stragglers. May cuddle with them and look like he's trying to take a nap in the meantime, but in truth he's still very alert, on edge, and ready to absolutely wreck shit if anything gets too close to them.

Though it doesn't look like his lazy ass goes through the same protective streak as his brothers, he's a lot quicker to try and convince the MC to stay home now. No out and about=less chance of getting nabbed. Plus he keeps his favorite pillow, win-win. 😏

"What about your worthless lives makes you think you deserve my mercy??"

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me headcanons #obey me scenarios #shall-we-date-obey-me

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thescarletwitchsapprentice · 4 years ago

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A Pure Soul (Yandere!Wanda Maximoff x ADD!Autistic!reader)

Summary: Two weeks or so after Wanda arrives at the Avengers’ Place, (y/n) shows up. An autistic Avenger who’s extremely honest and who doesn’t really seem to mind just being by themself, but also is kind and even affectionate to others. Wanda’s smitten by this and does the unthinkable.

Request?: Nope. I’m literally just throwing this out of the back of my head. From the Yandere Starter Prompts list by @yandere-mccree

Prompt: 5. “This world doesn’t deserve an angel like you.”

Warnings: (AOU Spoilers, CACW spoilers, IW spoilers, Endgame spoilers, torture sorta, sleep paralysis mention, ableism, slight manipulation?, kidnapping, mind-breaking mention)

Note: I wanted to try a bit more of a subtle Yandere vibe for Wanda. I’ve never really written one of these, so it might not be as great as I hoped. I don’t encourage or condone the unhealthy aspects.

Word Count: 3,268

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It’s only been a couple of weeks or so after she’d been taken from Sokovia after it was destroyed. Wanda’s still mourning the loss of her brother when you arrive. You're a shy person, not a fan of eye contact, but you do like touch, hugs in particular, as well as head pets.

Wanda doesn’t pay attention to you much at first. You’re just another Avenger to her; a nice change of pace, but that’s all. But then comes Lagos. Wanda now has guilt along with so much trauma. It’s no surprise when you hear her crying in her room one day, the door somehow left open a crack.

“I’m a terrible person,” she says softly, thinking no one heard.

You peek in and catch her with a pillow to her face, weeping. Your heart breaks. You know it’s on her, but she clearly feels terrible. You stand in the doorway until she soon notices you.

“Oh....(y/n),” she says as casually as she can. “Hey.”

“You’re not a terrible person,” you tell her.

She’s shocked to hear this.

“You’re not afraid of me?”

You shake your head.

“Why would I be?”

“I’m too destructive,” she says, sniffling. “You saw what happened in Lagos.”

You enter your room and sit on her bed with her.

“But you’re also very kind,” you point out. “And you’re a good person. You clearly care when you hurt others, and you want to rectify your mistakes. A bad person wouldn’t do that.”

In that moment, you can sense her need for some physical contact. You lean over and give her a hug, rubbing her back.

“I’m glad you’re here, Wanda,” you tell her.

And you are. You truly are. Even if you don’t know her well, you’ve heard her talk a few times, and she’s a breath of fresh air. Most of the Avengers tend to be a bit loud and sometimes a bit insensitive, but not Wanda. Wanda’s extremely sensitive to others’ feelings and tends to be a quiet person. It’s something you need. Her accent is also soothing to you for some reason, not to mention she’s beautiful.

You let her cry on your shoulder for a few hours, even humming to her a bit. Then it’s dinnertime and you’re called to the kitchen. That’s when something in Wanda changes. You, an Avenger who barely knows her, aren’t afraid of her; in fact, you’re glad that she’s here. She also doesn’t know you all that well, but she’s seen some acts of kindness you’ve done for her and the other Avengers, even when you thought no one was watching. And she heard your thoughts when you were hugging her, all wonderful things about her, how you wish she could see how amazing she is, how beautiful she is.

At that moment, her heart melts. How can someone with such a sweet and pure soul like you exist? How could someone so....perfect exist? It’s a ray of sunshine in her heart, making her forget about the guilt and trauma, even if only for a few moments. Your presence is exactly what she needs. And she needs more of it.....

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At first it starts off simple and small; making an effort to see you more often, running into you in the compound, smiling at you, making conversation. And honestly, there’s something about Wanda you can’t quite shake off. She does make your heart flutter; sometimes you get shy around her or even blush. It’s adorable and it’s something that only makes her more fond of you.

She discovers you’re autistic when the lights of the compound are too bright one time. The second she notices how anxious you are after Tony turns on the lights before getting his coffee in the other room, she immediately turns them down for you, and she’s the first person you tell.

“I’m touched that you trust me enough to confess this,” she tells you with a few tears in your eyes.

Wanda asks you what other things you like or dislike, things that give you sensory overload and things that help you calm down. She asks you about your experiences as an autistic person. You’re touched by how considerate she is, and even confess to her about your ADD, or Inattentive ADHD, as they call it now. She also asks about that, but does her best to take it a little at a time so that you’re not overwhelmed with questions.

What you don’t know is that she already knows all of this, having telepathy and all; she wants to hear it from you so that it doesn’t come off as creepy. She also loves to hear your voice. It’s like music to her ears, music that eases her stresses and trauma, even if only temporarily.

Then she starts to make some more effort, actively implementing what she knows and paying attention to things you say and do, so that she knows what she can do or say without it being suspicious. Wanda wants the relationship to move as naturally as possible. You’re her precious angel, and she doesn’t want to scare you. And she won’t unless it’s inevitable or of absolute necessity.

Wanda buys a bunch of fidgets and other sensory things for you to try, keeping in mind what you’ve told her. But also throwing in some “close guesses,” meaning things she knows but that you haven’t told her, things close to what you’ve told her. She can easily pass it off as just “having a hunch,” as long as it doesn’t happen too often.

Though she wants it to be as natural as possible, she occasionally uses her powers on you; nothing too severe at first. Just sending little suggestions to your mind; she’s told you a few of her favorite things, so she’ll base those suggestions off of that. One of the first suggestions is why not ask her how to make paprikash? She suggests that the two of you make it together and you agree. You’re not big on spice, but there’s some sweet paprika as a substitute. And it’s not as spicy as you think, but it’s delicious.

Sometimes Wanda sends a suggestion to get you going on a rant on one of your Special Interests; it’s both a chance for her to “get to know you more,” but mostly because she adores hearing you speak about what you love; she especially loves seeing that twinkle in your eyes and she loves seeing your face light up. It’s one of the most precious things to her, seeing you so happy. She wants to cherish every single second of it.

Though you’re nervous about it, suggestions of humming or singing to her pop into your mind. You give into them fairly often, mostly later on in the relationship. She tells you about how beautiful your voice really is, which gets you shy and blushing. It’s so endearing to her, seeing her sweet little sunbeam being so cute without even trying.

When you come back from a battle, Wanda checks to make sure you’re okay as soon as possible. She volunteers to patch you up to the best of her ability, and she soon becomes the person you first think of when you need first aid or care after a battle.

Then Wanda decides to take it a little further; her room in the compound is next to yours. She stands outside of your door, waiting for you to go to sleep, before opening the door a tad and sending in sweet dreams. If there’s one thing she despises, it’s seeing her sweet little angel upset, and this assures that it won’t happen.

Next she sends little dreams with her in it; first only small appearances, but then she becomes apparent little by little until she ends up being the focus of many of them. Of course she’ll throw in miscellaneous dreams here and there, just to make sure you don’t get suspicious.

Then comes Wanda’s biggest suggestion to you; you two have gotten so close over the past few months, why not ask her to be your girlfriend? It only makes sense. You still feel those butterflies in your stomach, you two both have amazing chemistry, and you both are very close. At this point, you don’t question it. You’re just nervous to ask, as you’ve never been in a relationship before. Of course the nervousness is also slightly part of the suggestion, more on a subconscious level. It’s not enough to make you panic; just enough to make you shy when asking her. And of course, you are. You end up stammering a little, blushing a bit. She fondly assures you that it’s okay to feel this nervousness, and happily accepts being your girlfriend.

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Now that you two are a couple, her next suggestion for you is to give into those affectionate feelings you have when cuddling with her. She loves the warmth you bring. Wanda didn’t think you could get any cuter, and yet she’s a full-on puddle when you cuddle with her. You’re just so sweet and Wanda can’t help but feel protective over you.

Others begin to notice you opening up more and they start making conversation with you. Of course Wanda’s listening to their thoughts to make sure they’re not interested in going further than a friendship with you. Friends are okay for her, and she’s very excited inside when you make a new friend, as she knows that making friends doesn’t exactly come naturally to you. However if it ever gets to anything past that, she’d have to take action. One does express interest in you, and that doesn’t sit well with Wanda. This person doesn’t deserve such a sweet angel, let alone her sweet little angel. Something must be done.

That night, after sending you sweet dreams, she sneaks over to their place and hides just outside of their bedroom door. She’s able to track their brain activity, so she knows when they’ve gone to sleep. Once they do, she sends them their worst nightmares, ones that paralyze them in their sleep out of fear. The next day, you don’t see them at their usual time. You figure maybe they’re sick or they overslept. In the meantime, she’s there to keep you company. It happens on and off with them for some odd reason.

If it’s one of the Avengers taking an interest in you, Wanda ensures that the two of you don’t get too close. If you go on a mission and need a partner, Wanda steps up. It’s not really a surprise to them, with her being your girlfriend and all. She glares at the Avenger who’s showing interest, letting them know to stay back.

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And then shit hits the fan.

You come back to the compound in tears one night and Wanda’s the first one at your side.

“(Y/N), what happened?” she asks worried.

You tell her about how you ran into someone who said that autism is a disease that needs to be cured and that you shouldn’t exist because you’re a burden on society. Wanda doesn’t leave your side that night. You need someone there for you. Externally she’s supportive and loving. But internally, she’s both heartbroken and fuming as she looks through the memory. A fire storms inside of her. How dare they tell such a sweet and pure soul like you that they’re a burden! How dare they say her sweet angel has a disease that needs to be cured! Wanda knows that autism has its challenges, but also its upsides. It’s not anything that needs a cure. It’s a part of your identity. She will NOT let this slide. Not even a little.

After cuddling with you, and sending extra-special sweet dreams that night, Wanda finds the place of the person who told you this. Wanda sneaks into their bedroom and induces their worst nightmares, along with a dose of sleep paralysis. She uses her telekinesis to throw objects around the room and even at them. She uses her power to make them choke. Her grief and anger only amplifies the severity. It’s satisfying to her to hear them scream, plead, beg for mercy, to see them so helpless, knowing what they said to her precious angel. She keeps doing this to them until they’re completely broken, even going back multiple nights, just to make sure they’re gone for good.

You don’t hear from them until you find out that they’ve become completely catatonic. Part of you still feels bad for them for some reason, but you don’t know why.

“You have nothing to feel bad about, (Y/N),” Wanda assures you when you bring this up with her. “Their guilt probably just got the best of them. C’mon, how about we get some lunch together?”

Wanda’s got your back and more for the next few days. And then Tony locks her in her room, and you’re infuriated. He just sees her as a weapon and not a person. In spite of their attempts to convince you to come along on missions, you decide to stay back and keep Wanda company, to make her confinement more bearable.

The two of you both fight Tony together, end up in the Raft, and escape together, living away from the compound. Then comes the war. You’re the one dusted and Wanda survives. Those five years without you are hell to her. She spirals back into grief, guilt, and trauma, blaming herself for not being able to save you. Thank God for Bruce Banner. In 2023, he brings you back. The second Wanda finds this out, she rushes for you, her eyes filled with tears, and you’re just as relieved to see her. Your warmth sparks a sense of purpose back into her. After you died and were brought back to life, to her you’re truly an angel now, and she refuses to let an angel be harmed. She’s reluctant to let you fight, but she tells you as long as you stay by her, it should be fine.

Tony sacrifices himself to save you all from Thanos. The second the funeral is over, you decide to take a nap. Wanda gently grabs you and takes you to a remote location; a cottage in the middle of the woods on an island. Those five years without you and then suddenly having you back sent her protective instincts into overdrive. She decides that she can’t let anyone or anything hurt you anymore. She’s lost her parents and her brother. She can’t lose you. She won’t lose you.

When you come to, you’re shocked about where you are.

“H-huh?”

Sitting up you begin to panic when you hear a familiar voice.

“Good! You’re awake.”

The smell of paprika hits your nose as you see her face, a sweet smile upon it.

“W-wanda?”

She brings over a plate of chicken paprikash.

“What do you think, (y/n)?” she asks.

“Of what?”

She gives a little giggle.

“Of our new home, of course.”

Your heart jumps in your chest.

“New home?”

Wanda sets down the food on a nearby table, and sits next to you on the bed you’ve been placed in.

“(Y/N), I.....those past five years....”

“Must’ve been horrific,” you say, still in shock.

She nods.

“And I wish I could’ve saved you.”

She gently takes ahold of your hands.

“And now that you’re back....I’m scared to lose you. I want us to be together forever.”

Your face flushes, and you glance away. She giggles a little and gently guides your face back up to her.

“My sweet (y/n), you’re too adorable,” she tells you.

Your eyes meet the bridge of her nose, and she doesn’t make you look at her eyes. She knows eye contact can be hell for you.

“I’ve missed this energy so much; I’ve missed your kind-hearted nature, your beautiful voice, your wide and innocent eyes, that cute little button nose, you cuddling up close to me. I’ve set everything in this cottage up just for you. I want you to be as comfortable and happy as possible here.”

“Where exactly are we, though?” you ask.

“Somewhere where you’ll never be hurt again. I’ll ensure that.”

This set off a slight red flag, and you panic a little.

“We couldn’t have just moved to a house in the suburbs or maybe a house in Greece?”

She shakes her head as she pets yours, something that absolutely gives you butterflies.

“No. This world doesn’t deserve an angel like you, sweet (y/n). You have such a pure soul-you are a pure soul-and the world outside will only hurt you. Sweet and innocent people, especially at your age, are very rare. They’re like diamonds; real diamonds. They’re extremely difficult to find, but once you do, they’re a treasure that needs to be protected. I want to be that for you. I want to protect you, keep you safe, love you and care for you. This cottage, this island, it can become a whole new world. At least give it a try? For me? Please?”

You want to say no, right? You’re not sure. It feels like something inside of you is at war, but one side is winning. Wanda’s clearly relieved to have you, and you’ve loved her for a long time now as she’s loved you for a long time now. You feel comfortable around her too. Perhaps a little protection might not be the worst idea. At the very least, a trial run wouldn’t hurt.

You nod.

“Okay, I’ll give it a go.”

Wanda hugs you close and gives you a small peck on the cheek.

“Thank you, my sweet (y/n)! Thank you.”

The two of you have dinner together and then watch a few sitcoms before you cuddle up in bed as Wanda softly sings you a Sokovian lullaby, your head lying near her shoulder. As you drift off to sleep, Wanda watches you endearingly. What you don’t know is that you’re going to enjoy being here. She’d love it if it’s on your own terms, but if you start to seem distant, she won’t hesitate to use her magic to send some suggestions. Maybe it’s to prompt you to ask her to include or remove or change something, or even to enhance your joy for the little things. Extreme worst-case scenario? She’ll plague you with a few nightmares, ones that’ll show you how dangerous the outside world is without her, but it will pain her to do so. Expect a lot of cuddling and kisses from her when you wake up in tears in the hopes of making things better. And she makes sure they do. All she wants is for you to stay and be happy and safe with her.

And even if you wanted to leave, it’s doubtful that even with your powers, you’ll get past the barrier Wanda’s put up. It’s doubtful that you’ll even get that far. It’s a big island after all. Big and deserted. She wants to give you enough space, but not too much. Just enough to make you happy. If you somehow find it, Wanda will make sure you’ll forget finding it. She’ll fill in the gaps with something else so that it doesn’t seem suspicious. It’s not surprising that she knows how to deal with so many outcomes; she’s had five years to think it over, after all, just in case you came back.

But none of that matters right now. All that matters is that she has you, her precious angel, and you’ll be hers forever one way or the other.

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