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watchmegetobsessed · 3 years

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TO LOVE AND BE LOVED - Part Four (Harry Styles)

a/n: happy TLABL day!! can’t believe we are already on part 4! im not sure if part 5 will be the last part, im still very much writing the rest so we’ll see! thank you so much for all the love you’ve been showing the series, i love reading your reactions! feedback is very much appreciated this time as well!

pairing: CEO!Dad!Harry X Reader

warning: mentions of death, cheating and divorce

word count: 11k

SERIES MASTERPOST masterlist

You wake up feeling like you’ve been hit by a truck or at least consumed a whole bottle of tequila. Your head is pounding and it’s probably with all the crying and stress, so you are quick to take some pills to ease the pain. Sitting on the edge of your bed you stare ahead of you blankly, trying to gain power to start the day.

Though today is Sunday, so you are not working, you’re still worried to face Harry after whatever it was that happened last night. What were you thinking, kissing your boss out of the blue? And what was he thinking kissing you for the second time? It kind of feels like a dream, but you know it really did happen.

You try to stay in your room as long as possible, avoiding to face Harry, but soon enough you can’t postpone it any longer, because you are starving. Peeking out of your room you hear voices coming from downstairs and as you reach the stairs you recognize not just Harry’s and Izzy’s voice, but Niall’s as well.

Arriving downstairs you see Niall and Izzy sitting on the stools at the kitchen island while Harry is cleaning the dishes after their breakfast probably. He is wearing a pair of light-washed jeans and a black hoodie, the sleeves bunched around his elbows. He looks so casual and yet just looking at him makes your heart skip a beat. You are in some big trouble.

Niall spots you first and he perks up waving in your way happily.

“Good morning, Y/N!” he beams, his accent sounds so comforting in such a stressful moment, for some reason.

“Hi, good morning,” you breathe out. Harry turns around, his eyes fall on you and a shiver runs down your spine. He just looked at you and you already want to run away and hide in your room a little longer.

“Morning,” he greets you with a nod before turning back to the sink to finish the dishes.

“Daddy and Uncle Niall are taking me to the park! We are picking Yara up too!” Izzy shares the news with you excitedly.

“Oh, that sounds great!” you smile at her, giving her cheek a gentle pinch before moving to the fridge.

“Do you want to come?” she invites you and your eyes immediately flicker over to Harry who looks at you the exact same time, making your stomach drop right away.

“Um, I have some work to do, maybe some other time,” you smile at Izzy, grabbing yourself a yoghurt and a banana before shutting the fridge closed.

“So how was yesterday?” Niall asks and you freeze. Does he know what happened? Did Harry tell him about last night?

Niall sees your frightened look to which he shoots you a confused one.

“The wedding, Harry told me earlier you had a wedding yesterday.”

“Oh, it went… fine,” you nod shortly, peeking at Harry who is now staring down at his feet awkwardly. This was starting to get painfully ridiculous, the two of you dancing around each other, pretending like you weren’t down each other’s throats just a few hours prior.

“Alright, let’s leave, we need to pick Yara up in twenty,” Harry claps his hands. Izzy jumps off the stool and takes Niall’s hand as they all head out of the house. “We’ll probably have lunch somewhere and then go grocery shopping, so we’ll be away for a while,” he informs you without looking your way before leaving without even waiting for any reaction from you.

Yeah, this was straight up the most awkward conversation you’ve had in a long time.

“Here, Izzy. Play some games on my phone!” Niall passes his phone to her with a sweet smile, but Harry smacks his bicep.

“What are you doing? She has enough screen time already!”

“Yeah, but I needed her to be busy so I can ask you what the fuck was that in the house.”

Harry curls his lips into his mouth, his eyes glued to the road ahead of him as he tries to come up with a good answer, but he knows he could never fool his best friend.

“Don’t stop, even if she is busy with the phone,” Harry scolds him, glancing at Izzy through the mirror, but she doesn’t seem to be listening to them. Niall rolls his eyes, but lets his words uncommented. “Besides, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” “Oh, you exactly know it. You and Y/N were like scared little bunnies around each other. She looked like she was about to faint any moment when you looked at her.”

“Maybe she was just tired,” he shrugs, but Niall laughs at his weak attempt to fool him.

“Now tell me the real reason, I know something happened.”

Harry chews on his bottom lip, debating whether he should come clean or not, but he knows Niall won’t leave him until he finally tells him so he is not left with many choices.

“We kissed.”

“What?!” Niall snaps, a little louder than Harry expected, his voice makes him flinch. “Sorry, that was a little too dramatic, but what the fuck? Why were you keeping this from me?!”

“Because I knew this is how you’d react,” Harry mumbles under his breath. “And… I don’t think it will ever happen again.”

“What do you mean?”

“The whole thing was a mess,” Harry sighs. “She came home late, pretty upset because she met with her ex at the wedding.”

“The one that cheated on her?”

“Mhm. The dude was an asshole and… she was crying in the kitchen when I came down. We sat on the couch, talked, I tried to calm her down and all that and then… she kissed me.”

“Wait, she kissed you? Wow, she’s got balls!” Niall laughs.

“Yeah, but it was, like, really short and she pulled back, shocked at herself for doing it. I think it was just all the emotions that got her a little confused. But then she tried to apologize and… and I kissed her.”

“What?! Oh my God!” Niall’s mind is blown and he doesn’t even tries to hide his excitement hearing the news about last night. “Was there tongue?”

“Jesus, Niall!” Harry scowls. “I’m not sharing the details with you.”

“Okay, but was it like a solid, short kiss or you guys went right at it?”

Harry doesn’t answer, but it tells enough about the situation and Niall can’t help but whistle as he claps his hands.

“Stop acting like a horny teenager, Niall,” Harry growls rolling his eyes at his friend.

“So you guys snogged, what’s the matter with that?”

“It got awkward. We just pulled back and I think we both were pretty shocked about it and… she just stood up and said that she is going to bed. End of story. And then you were there in the morning, so… yeah.”

“Tell me why the hell we are heading to a playdate then when you should be talking to her?” Niall asks, arching an eyebrow at Harry.

“There’s not much to talk about. It just happened in the heat of the moment, that’s all,” Harry shrugs, but deep down he knows it’s a blatant lie. At least on his side.

Unlike you, who fell asleep right away, Harry spent about an hour lying in his bed wide awake, not able to think about anything else but your lips on his. He replayed the whole thing in his head about a million times, he was starting to feel ashamed of it, but he just couldn’t stop.

Your abrupt leaving left him puzzled and he thought long and hard about why you felt the need to run away. The only thing that made sense to him is that you regretted it the moment it happened, that it really did just happen in the heat of the moment so Harry thought it’s best to act like it didn’t even happen.

“Please don’t be an ass and just… talk to her. We both know we can never know for sure what a woman thinks about. You can’t just assume and think that your assumption is one hundred percent right.”

“I find it funny that you’re such an expert in this stuff, but you haven’t had a stable relationship since like, we finished college,” Harry scoffs as he takes the corner and starts driving down the street to Yara’s moms’ house.

“Me not having a relationship doesn’t mean that I’m not good at them. It’s a choice,” Niall smirks.

“Yeah, whatever.”

“But back to the topic, you wanted to kiss her, right?”

“I mean, yeah? It kinda threw me off as well, but it was… nice.”

“Please don’t refer to a kiss as nice again,” Niall gags, but Harry just chuckles at him. “A kiss is hot, passionate, pant tighteni—“

“Okay, that’s enough!” Harry cuts him, earning a cackle from him.

“Just talk to her, don’t be a pussy.”

“I really do need better friends,” Harry mumbles under his breath as he pulls up to the driveway.

You really didn’t feel like staying home alone in that big ass house so you invited yourself over for an early dinner to your mom’s. You haven’t been over since the little fiasco with Trevor so you thought it might be a good idea to spend some time with them. Trevor said they’ve been trying to keep the fighting down to the minimum and not let it turn into a screaming match, so your speech worked after all.

It’s past three o’clock when you leave, no sign of Harry or Izzy and you feel like they won’t be back for a while either, so you lock everything up and head out.

You have a genuinely good time. It’s obvious that your mom feels guilty about her past behavior and is trying to lure you into forgiving her, though you already did that. But you’re happy your little speech worked. At least Trevor can have his peace now.

After dinner your mom disappears in her room and then returns with a nicely wrapped box and you sigh, rolling your eyes.

“Mom, I told you I don’t need gifts.” You give her a look. Your birthday is coming up next week, but you were never the kind to celebrate. You never felt comfortable with all the attention and fuss birthdays come with, so you’ve always liked to keep it down. These past years you didn’t even ask for anything, though your parents never listened and this year doesn’t seem like an exception either.

“Oh hush. You can’t expect me not to celebrate my baby!” she shakes her head, sitting back to the dining table. “And besides, I didn’t pay a dollar for it,” she then adds and now you’re curious what she got you.

Removing the lid of the box you peek inside and your lips immediately part as you see the stack of polaroids inside.

“I know how much you like old photos and when we sold Grandma’s house back in August, I found these in my old room. I got a polaroid camera for graduation, just in time to take tons of pictures of you,” she explains with a soft chuckle as you start going through the pictures from when you were born and the next few years. Whenever you are done looking at a photo you hand it to Trevor so he can take a look at them too.

“Are you sure you don’t want to keep these, mom?” you ask glancing up at her over the stack.

“I took out a few for myself,” she admits with a sneaky smile. “You can have the rest, I know how much you love these stuff.”

“Thank you, mom,” you smile at her, hugging her from the side, feeling touched by this gift.

It’s nearing eight when you arrive back home, the lights are still up and if you had to guess you’d say that Harry is trying to tire Izzy out enough to put to bed, as usual. Walking in, your guess is proven right, the TV is on in the living room while Harry is sitting on the couch, Izzy all over him in her pink pajamas, playing around with his hair like she always does.

“Hi Y/N!” she calls out happily when she spots you.

“Hi Sunshine, did you have a good time today?” you ask with a soft smile.

“I did! And guess what!”

“What?”

“Yara invited me over for a sleepover!” she beams, clearly ecstatic about the invitation.

“That’s amazing!”

“What’s that?” she curiously asks pointing at the gift box in your hands. Harry turns to see you, his eyes falling on the box as well.

“Oh, it’s a gift I got from my mom,” you explain, stepping closer.

“Is it your birthday?” she questions, knitting her eyebrows together.

“No, not yet. But it will be next week,” you admit with a soft chuckle.

“Really? Are you having a birthday party?” she gasps, getting way too excited already. Harry eyes you without a word, holding Izzy by her hips so she is not losing her balance standing on the cushion of the couch.

“I’m not, sorry. I don’t like having birthday parties,” you pout at her apologetically.

“Oh, okay. Can I see what you got from your mom?”

“Izzy, don’t be nosy,” Harry warns her, but you just smile at the curious girl.

“Sure,” you nod, joining them on the couch. You sit on the opposite end than where Harry is, Izzy in the middle as she watches the box in awe. You set it down to the cushion and take the lid off, revealing the stack of photos.

“What are these?”

“They are called polaroids. They are old pictures, taken with a special camera that kind of prints the picture out right away,” you explain to her as she takes the first photo from the top, a picture of your mom holding you as a newborn. She was so young, practically a child herself, yet her pride was undeniable, it shone all over her face. You spot Harry looking at the picture as well over Izzy’s shoulder, still keeping his silence.

“Who are these people?”

“That’s my mom and that’s me as a baby. And… this is my dad,” you hold up another photo that features your dad.

“They really were young when they had you,” Harry speaks up for the first time, surprised by the photos.

“Yeah, they were.”

“What are you going to do with them?” Izzy questions, dropping the photo back into the box as she leans back to lie on Harry’s chest.

“Not sure yet. I might make an album from them,” you shrug. “I really like polaroids, I love that they are one of a kind.”

Izzy nods, though you’re not sure she understood what you meant by that. Fidgeting with her fingers she pushes down a yawn and Harry takes that as a good sign.

“Alright, time for bed, Love. Say good night to Y/N.” He picks her up as he stands from the couch. Izzy waves at you smiling with tired eyes.

“Night-night, Y/N,” she singsongs as Harry carries her towards the stairs.

Putting the pictures back into the box you head into your bedroom too, feeling like the time when you and Harry talk about what happened yesterday will never come. It’s pretty clear that he doesn’t want to acknowledge it, so you’ll just let it slip. It happened just in the heat of the moment, didn’t mean a thing, you better forget about it.

After a speedy shower you are getting ready to just go to bed, read some and have a relaxing evening, something you didn’t have the luck to have the day before. But right as you’re about to make yourself comfortable in bed, there’s a knock on your door.

“Hey,” you breathe out as you open it and find Harry standing in the hallway.

“I hope you weren’t sleeping already.”

“No. Come on in,” you invite him inside and he walks in. As he awkwardly stops in the middle of the room you realize he hasn’t even been in here since you’ve moved in. He takes a look around, examining what you’ve done with the room and you feel thankful you decided to put your laundry away just yesterday, so no dirty underwear is littering the floor anywhere.

“How can I help you?” you ask with a soft smile.

“I, erm… I just wanted to clear some things,” he starts, clearly feeling nervous about the conversation and that makes the two of you for sure. Nodding you let him know that you’re waiting for him to carry on. “What happened yesterday…” he starts and your breath gets caught in your throat. “You were very emotional, a lot happened and it was a very confusing moment probably for the both of us. I really like working with you, I’m very happy with the way you’ve been taking care of Izzy and I would hate to ruin it with anything.”

You can feel your stomach dropping even though you were bracing yourself for this version of the situation. It was very likely that Harry would want to keep things professional, like before, but it still makes you feel like shit.

“I’m sorry for stepping over some boundaries, but I really hope that… we can put it behind us and that we can move on.”

He is using his business tone. It’s the same tone he used with Sarah and his assistants and now he is using it to talk about the kiss that happened between the two of you.

“Sure,” you answer quietly nodding. “Moving on sounds… great,” you nod, forcing a smile to your face, but it couldn’t be more fake.

Harry nods as he runs his tongue over his lips, looking around a little awkwardly now that it’s been discussed.

“Alright, then… good night, Y/N,” he nods in your way before heading towards the door.

“Good night, Harry,” you mumble after him as he walks out and closes the door behind him.

As soon as you are on your own, you let out a shaky breath, falling to your bed, lips trembling as you try to even make out what you’re feeling. Because part of you is glad he didn’t make a fuss about it and you didn’t lose your job, that’s great news. But another part, which is vehemently bigger than the first one is upset and sad and… disappointed?

You were hoping it meant something for him, you wanted him to want it, to feel the same craving for you as you feel towards him, because you haven’t really stopped thinking about what his lips felt like against yours, what it was like when his fingers dug into your thigh, how it sent a shiver down your spine when his tongue met yours.

But this conversation just made it awfully clear that he wants nothing to do with you. And it hurts probably more than it should.

Harry doesn’t get too far from your door when he feels the all too familiar pain in his chest he has been forced to live with these past over three years. It’s like something is gripping his heart and lungs in his chest so tight, even breathing is a hard task.

Rushing into his bedroom he closes the door behind him and slides down to the floor as the tears flood from his eyes. The past twenty-four hours have been rough on him, the guilt has been growing immensely since he let himself slip and give in for his desires and eventually kiss you.

It’s not that he didn’t want it. Because he’d be lying if he said it meant nothing to him and that he hasn’t been craving it these past weeks.

But his guilt, this evil little voice in the back of his head wouldn’t let him enjoy it even the slightest.

How dare you kiss another woman after your wife? Are you insane? You don’t deserve to feel this way with anyone else. Not when you were the reason your wife ended up dead!

Heartbreaking sobs escape from his chest as he pushes himself up from the floor and heads into the bathroom. He strips out of his clothes leaving them all in a pile on the marble tiled floor before he steps into the shower and lets the hot water pour down on him, almost burning his skin, but he doesn’t change the temperature, as if he was trying to punish himself. His salty tears mix with the water as he stands still, chest heaving as his vivid memories from that night come crashing down on him all at once.

“Are you giving me the silent treatment now? Really?” Harry sighed at his wife when she failed to answer his question about the whereabouts of his sweatpants. Maggie sat on the bed with the recent maternity book she’d been reading these past days, not even paying her husband a look at his question.

“Mags, for fuck’s sake, I’m not in the mood to play this game right now,” Harry sighed in defeat. Maggie looked up at him, closed the book slowly and put it aside to the bedside table.

“So the question of expanding our family is just a game to you?” she asked calmly, but her anger and disappointment in her husband was soaking through her tone.

“You know that’s not what I’m talking about.”

“No, you are not talking about anything, because you refuse to have a fucking conversation with me!” she retorted, letting all her bottled up anger out that’d been boiling inside her.

“I already told you that I can’t think about having another baby right now. Izzy is only six, I’m in the middle of a huge project, I don’t have the capacity to think about having another baby, Maggie. I thought I made it clear, why are you still onto me then?”

“Because it’s not something we can put aside for too long! I don’t want to have another baby when I’m in my mid-thirties, but if we go with your plan, we won’t even have another one!” Maggie jumped to her feet, pacing the floor back and forth next to their bed as Harry stood with his hands on his hips, getting irritated that they were fighting over the same thing again.

“I never said we can’t have another baby, but why can’t we wait a little? When Izzy is older and more independent? Do you have any idea how hard it is to take care of a baby and a toddler? It’s a fucking nightmare!” Harry growled rolling his eyes.

“So our family is just a pain in the ass for you?” Maggie questioned, folding her arms on her chest and she was really getting on Harry’s nerves, twisting his words completely.

“That’s not what I said!” he snapped. “All I’m asking for is you to be a little patient and give me some time!”

“I don’t have time, Harry! I want it as soon as possible!”

“Why are you so fucking difficult?” Harry groaned, running his hands through his hair. “Why can’t you wait just… one year at least? Is that too much to ask?”

“And is it too much to ask to focus on your family? We are supposed to come first!” she turned it back around and Harry was not having the dirty games she was playing, putting all the blame on him when she could have been a little more understanding as well. He was feeling like his opinion was put aside and didn’t matter at all.

“You do come first, you don’t have the right to question that.” Harry pointed at Maggie, his blood practically boiling at this point.

“Then why do I feel like work is always more important to you?”

“What are you talking about? You know I’m home as much as I can, but we still need the fucking money, Maggie! Or how do you plan on paying the bills of this fucking mansion?!”

“I don’t need a mansion! I just need my family and that’s all!” she argued, but Harry rolled his eyes at her.

“Well you seem to enjoy this mansion a lot when you sit by the pool and watch movies in the fucking movie theater in your own home!” he snapped back feistily. “Stop acting like I don’t do shit for our family when I work my ass off to provide the best possible life. And all I’m asking for in return is some fucking time before we bring another baby into the picture!”

“You are so fucking unbelievable,” Maggie shook her head as she marched past him, walking away from the fight that just grinded his gears even more.

Just as Harry was about to go after her, he heard the faint crying through the baby monitor. Groaning he headed into Izzy’s room and as he took her out of her crib, he heard the front door open and shut.

“Aw, baby, I’m sorry, did we wake you up?” he cooed, hugging the crying little girl to his chest who clung onto him immediately. Even at such a young age, Izzy was already a daddy’s little girl.

Soon her cries died down to just little hiccups as Harry soothed her, patting her bum and back gently as he moved around the room. Holding Izzy in one arm he grabbed his phone with his free hand and typed a message to his wife.

Harry: Where did you go?!

Maggie: I’m going over to my sister’s. Don’t wait up, might get home late.

Harry couldn’t help but roll his eyes. She called him out for running away from the conversation, but when they were finally talking about it she just decided to disappear when it didn’t head in the direction she wanted, seeking comfort at her sister, as always.

He managed to lull Izzy back to sleep, putting her back to her crib before going back to the bedroom. As time passed by and he calmed down more and more he wished Maggie was home so they could talk about it without jumping at each other’s throat. There had to be a compromising way to solve the situation that would be fine for the both of them.

Harry: Please come home and let’s talk about it.

Maggie: So you can bite my head off again?!

Harry: Mags, please. You have to understand my point of view too!

Maggie: I understand it, but I don’t agree with it. And you don’t seem to understand mine…

Harry: I do, but there are more things to consider. Please come home, I don’t want to have this conversation over the phone!

Maggie: Okay, I’m heading home now.

Harry put his phone down to the nightstand with a long sigh, already tired from everything that happened that day and he knew this conversation would be a hard one too, but they needed to be on the same page when it came to their family.

It was late getting late and Harry grew a little more restless with each passing moment. Paisley, Maggie’s sister lived about thirty minutes away from them and it’d been forty minutes since she sent her last text. At first he figured she maybe stayed and talked for a little longer with Paisley, or stopped for some fast food which he knew she liked so much whenever she was upset, but when an entire hour passed by he was getting worried.

He kept sending her texts that didn’t even get delivered and when he tried to call it went straight to her voicemail. Harry was losing his shit so he decided to call Paisley to see if she knew anything about her.

“She hasn’t arrived home yet?” she asked, clearly surprised.

“No, and she is not answering my calls and texts. When did she leave from yours?”

“A long time ago. Almost right away when you texted her to go home.”

“Fuck,” Harry breathed out, anxiously pacing the floor as he held the phone to his ear. “Okay, can you please call your parents in case she went there for whatever reason? I’ll try her friends.”

“Yeah, sure. Let me know if you got a hold of her,” Paisley told him before they ended the call.

Harry was scrolling through his contacts, trying to decide who Maggie would go to first in this situation and just as he was about to call the first person, his phone started ringing with an unknown number.

“Hello?” he answered the call unsurely, his heart beating fast in his chest as he stood in the middle of the room.

“Mr. Harry Styles?” a male voice asked on the other end.

“Yes, it’s me. Who am I speaking to?”

“I’m Officer Field speaking. You were listed as the emergency contact for your wife, Margaret Linn Styles.”

Blood rushed out of Harry’s face faster than he could even process what was happening. He stood completely frozen, his hands were getting clammy as he started sweating as if he just ran the marathon.

“What happened?” he asked weakly, barely even finding his own voice.

“Mr. Styles, I have bad news…”

Harry makes his way down to the entertainment room, walking like a zombie, only thinking about the bottle of vodka that sits in the minibar down there. Following his skin burning shower he tried to go to bed, but his head was starting to spin from everything that’s been swirling in his mind and he knew he wouldn’t be able to stop it if he didn’t numb himself somehow. Unfortunately, his only way of doing it has been drinking, nothing seemed to help him the way alcohol did and though he knew he should never solve any of his problems with drinking, he still couldn’t help himself sometimes. When the pain was growing immensely, taking over his whole body, he chose the easiest way to get rid of the guilt or at least stop himself from… feeling.

Grabbing the bottle from the mini fridge he snatches himself a glass as well, not drinking straight from the bottle at least, and plopping himself down to the couch he pours a generous glass, drinking it without any chaser.

He winces as the alcohol burns down his throat, but at least it’s a different kind of pain, that takes the focus away from the one he is feeling in his chest.

One glass chases the other and since he is not particularly used to the heavy drinking, he is more like the ‘let’s nurse this pint for an hour’ type of guy, the raw vodka kicks in pretty quickly.

But he is not the only one who can’t fall asleep tonight.

You tried everything in your power to end your misery and finally fall asleep, but your mind and body was plotting against you and made you toss and turn until you couldn’t take it any longer. Making a good cup of tea seemed like a good idea, so you headed down the kitchen.

As you round the corner after the stairs and you’re about to walk into the kitchen, you notice how the lights are on down in the entertainment room. You stop in your tracks and try to think back if anyone was there before you went upstairs, but you don’t think it was the case.

You figure since there are only two adults living in the house, it must be Harry down there and right now, facing him doesn’t sound like a good idea, so you decide to leave him be, but that’s when you hear the voice of some kind of glass breaking, followed by a heavy accented cursing and it changes your mind right away.

“Harry?” you softly call out as you walk down the stairs, not sure what to expect down there. He is crouching down, his back in your direction as he is trying to get the pieces of the broken glass up from the floor, but he is too disoriented to succeed in the task and it’s obvious that an injury is deemed to happen sooner or later.

“Harry, you’re gonna cut yourself!” you warn him, and walking over to him you pull him up from his squatting position and when he looks at you is when you realize that he is drunk out of his mind.

“Y/N, oh shit, did I—Did I wake you up?” he slurs, knitting his eyebrows together as he tries to focus his vision on you.

“You didn’t, but let me just—Why don’t you sit down for a moment while I clean this up, huh?” you suggest, pulling him towards the couch, making him sit. He falls to the cushion like dead weight, letting out a tired sigh while you rush to get a broom and a dustpan to get rid of the broken glass on the floor as fast as possible before someone cuts themselves.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” he breathes out closing his eyes.

“It’s okay. I’ll just clean it up quickly,” you assure him, getting down to business.

“Not about the g-glass. Well, about that as well…”

“Then why are you sorry?” you ask, as you sweep the shards onto the dustpan and throw them into the closest trashcan.

“About being… a pain in the ass,” he hiccups.

“You are not a pain in the ass,” you chuckle softly as you sit beside him.

“I am. I fucked things up,” he nods with a painful expression all over his handsome face.

“What do you mean?” You know you shouldn’t make him talk in this state, but you can’t help your curiosity. It seems like drunkenness makes his tongue run wild and you are desperate for the tiniest crumble of information about what’s going on in his head.

“I just… I kissed you,” he breathes out, his eyes popping open, but he is staring at the ceiling, not you.

“And?” you ask, trying to act cool, though your pulse is rapidly increasing.

“And I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Oh.” You lick your lips and try not to show how much that hurt. But even drunk, Harry notices the disappointment in your tone. His glassy eyes snap over to you and his face falls right away.

“That’s not how I mean it!” he gasps, reaching for your hand and you’re surprised by the sudden physical touch, but it feels kind of nice, so you let him hold your hand between his arm palms. “It’s not like I didn’t enjoy it, because fucking hell, it was amazing!” he bluntly tells you and you can already feel the heat crawling up your neck.

“Really?”

“Yes!”

“Then why did you tell me all of that in my room just earlier now?”

Harry pulls his hands back and moves his arms across his face, covering his eyes as he slides down the couch, his legs spreading out in front of him. He lets out a shaky whimper and seeing him like this worries you a lot. Harry is always in control, he has never let him fall apart like this before.

“Because… I don’t deserve to feel this way,” he confesses, confusing you even more. What is he talking about?

“Why wouldn’t you?”

He shakes his head under his arms, biting into his bottom lip as he inhales deeply, like he is trying to keep something inside, something you shouldn’t know about, but now you are desperate to find it out.

“I’m a fucking mess,” he breathes out, letting his arms fall to his sides, but he keeps his eyes closed, shutting you out in a way. “I don’t deserve to have these feelings,” he repeats again and it appears he is more likely talking to himself, rather than to you.

“Harry, what are you talking about?”

“I can’t tell you. I can’t tell you, because if I did, you’d never be able to look at me again.”

Now he is crying. Tears are rolling down his cheeks and his lips are trembling and you’ve never seen him in such a vulnerable state and quite frankly, it scares you. You knew him to be a strong and stable man, but now he resembles a frightened little boy, so lost in this big world.

“I’m pretty sure it’s not that bad, Harry.”

“It is,” he winces, as if it’s causing him physical pain to even talk about it.

“Harry…” You breathe out and moving closer you place a hand on his knee, giving it a gentle, reassuring squeeze. He turns to face you, his eyes all watered and glistening, he looks so heartbroken, it almost pains you as well.

“Promise me you won’t see me as a monster,” he whispers.

“I-I promise,” you nod, already bearing yourself for the worst, judging from the look on his face.

Taking a deep breath he looks around, as if he is making sure no one else is listening. Then his eyes fall down to his hands in his lap, he fidgets with his fingers, his tongue running along his pink lips before he takes a deep breath and speaks up again.

“Maggie’s death… It was all my fault. I fucking… killed my own wife.”

His voice dies down at the end of the sentence, staring into the void, completely zoned out as you sit beside him, shocked at his words. This was not exactly what you were expecting him to say. Harry starts sobbing again, the hot tears running down his cheeks as he starts crying and panic sets in you. He is so out of his own world, you have no idea what’s happening to him. Rushing over to the mini fridge, you grab a water for him, thinking it might help him at least after all the alcohol he has consumed.

“Here, drink some water,” you softly tell him, taking the cap off as you hand him the bottle. He takes it with a shaky hand and raising it to his trembling lips he takes a few small sips. “Harry, what do you mean it was your fault?” you ask, knowing well you probably shouldn’t push it, but you can’t just ignore what he said.

“Exactly what I said,” he sobs shaking his head vigorously. “It was all my fault, I was a fucking coward and that’s why she died! I could have stopped her! I should have gone after her!”

He is not answering you, not entirely. He is speaking thoughts that have been planted in his head a long time ago and they seem to be on repeat whenever he is feeling down. As much as you want to get more details out of him, he needs to rest, especially because he is working in the morning.

“Come on, let’s get you to bed, H,” you tell him as you stand up and reach out for him to help him to his unsteady feet. It turns out to be a little harder than you expected, but you manage to get him up from his sitting position, and throwing one of his arms over your shoulders you start to walk him up towards his bedroom.

“You fucking hate me now, don’t you?” he slurs, his other hand reaching out towards the wall to steady himself a little more.

“I don’t hate you, Harry.”

“But you think I’m a monster, right?”

“I’m not sure I know enough to think anything about you. This is a conversation we should have when you’re sober,” you suggest and he huffs.

“M’sorry for getting drunk in the middle of the night.”

“It’s alright. But I think you’ll have a mean headache in the morning,” you tease him as you finally reach the upstairs and head down the hallway towards his room.

“You’re a fucking angel, Y/N. You know that?” He just keeps talking and talking and you find it funny how different he is from his reserved and quiet self in this state.

“Am I?”

“Yeah. You are. You are so good to my daughter and to me as well… I really don’t get why your fucker ex cheated on you,” he huffs and you can’t help the smile that tugs on your lips. “What was his name? Kyle?”

“Keith,” you correct him.

“That fucker, Keith!” he spats making you laugh as you push his bedroom’s door open and walk him inside finally. “I bet he had a small dick.”

“Why does that matter,” you chuckle, making him sit on the edge of the bed.

“Because guys with small dicks are always out of touch with themselves. They think they are just better than everyone for some reason.”

“Do you have any scientific research to prove that?” you tease him as you push him down, tugging him under the covers, like a little kid.

“No, I just… know shit,” he sighs, his eyes falling closed the moment his head rests on the pillow.

“Alright. You can tell me more about what else you know when you’re sober. Now get some sleep, because you have work in the morning.”

You make sure he lies on his side as he hums his response. Reaching down you brush his messy curls out of his forehead as he breathes out harshly through his nose, probably about to fall asleep any moment.

Tapping on the screen of his phone on the nightstand you make sure that he has set up his alarm and you see the little alarm clock icon at the top bar so you are just about to walk out when you turn back around.

Seeing how he pushed so many things down inside of him, you’re not convinced he’ll be willing to give you the answers you are looking for. You’re afraid he might talk himself out and give you some kind of bullshit answer, so reaching for his phone you sneakily take his thumb and open the device, all whilst he doesn’t even move an inch.

Scrolling through his contacts you find Niall’s number and send it over to yourself before deleting the message so you leave no trail behind. You set the phone back to his nightstand and head out finally, going to bed as well, right after sending Niall a quick message.

Y/N: Hi! It’s Y/N, I got your number from Harry’s phone. Can you come by sometime tomorrow? I need to talk to you about something.

When you come down in the morning it’s pretty obvious that even though Harry had his alarm on, he snoozed one too many times and now he is in a rush, trying to get everything done and leave on time.

“Good morning,” you greet him and Izzy upon walking into the kitchen. Harry’s head snaps up from the half-made breakfast in front of him and judging by his expression, he more or less remembers what happened last night. “Rough morning?” you ask teasing him to ease the tension.

“Uh, yeah. Woke up a little late,” he nods, finishing up Izzy’s sandwich just the way she likes, without the crust on before handing it over to her. Izzy grabs the plate and marches over to the dining table, quietly munching on her food while Harry quickly tries to make himself a coffee, but he is a hot mess, still in his night clothes when he is supposed to leave in about ten minutes.

“I’ll make you the coffee, go and get changed,” you offer, taking over the machine.

“Oh, thank you,” he nods and for a change, he doesn’t try to argue with you, he just disappears upstairs.

You make his coffee just as he likes and leave it on the counter for him before joining Izzy at the table with your own breakfast. She is babbling about how excited she is for her piano lesson today, because she’s been practicing a lot lately. When Harry appears again he is dressed for work, but still looks a little disoriented.

“Hey,” you softly say as you join him in the kitchen.

“Hey, thank you for the coffee,” he nods, moving around the kitchen.

“No problem. How are you feeling?” you ask, hoping you’re not crossing any boundaries. Harry opens his mouth to answer, but then closes, probably not sure how much he should share, though he didn’t have too much problem with that last night.

“I’m… A little hangover, but I’m… fine,” he nods shortly. “Y/N, about last night, I—“

“We can talk about it later, okay? Don’t stress about it.” You give him a reassuring smile and you can tell he is sort of relieved he doesn’t have to have this conversation right in this moment.

“Thank you.”

“No worries. And I’ll clean up in the kitchen, don’t be late,” you smile at him warmly. You can tell he wants to protest, but he also knows he is running late so he doesn’t have much choice.

“Thank you, I’ll… see you later.”

Storming over to Izzy he presses a kiss to her forehead before grabbing all his stuff and leaving.

Niall texts you back not long after breakfast that he is free to drop by when Izzy is having her piano lesson. You carry on with the morning as usual, trying your best not to dwell on everything that happened last night.

Just as Rosaline and Izzy get settled for the lesson you hear a car pulling up outside and a few moments later the doorbell rings through the house.

“Let’s get one thing straight, is it a booty call?” Niall questions right away as you let him inside.

“It’s good to see you again,” you chuckle, shaking your head at him.

“So no sex is gonna be involved?” he smirks and you know he is just teasing you.

“No, sorry to disappoint.”

“Oh, you can never disappoint me, darling,” he winks at you before walking into the kitchen to serve himself a drink. “So why did you need to see me so desperately?”

“Well, I know I shouldn’t be discussing this with you first, but I feel like I need to know some basic information that Harry might not give me so I thought you could help me out.” Niall nods as he pours himself some soda and joins you at the kitchen island, sitting on the stool next to you. “I uhh—I need to ask how much Harry shared with you about… about me—and, um what—“

“Save the stuttering, I know you two kissed,” Niall cuts you off and you breathe out in relief that you don’t have to be the one breaking him the news.

“Oh, okay,” you nod with an awkward smile. “Yeah, so that happened. And last night he and I had this conversation how we should just keep our relationship professional and all that. We both went our own way but then later I found Harry down in the entertainment room, drunk and basically having a meltdown of some sort.”

“How drunk was he?” Niall asks, knitting his eyebrows together.

“Pretty drunk. He broke a glass and he was… crying and talking about a lot of stuff.” Niall takes your words in as he inhales deeply, just nodding for you to continue. “He started telling me how sorry he was for fucking things up and he was a mess, like a huge fucking mess. Then he told me about how he shouldn’t be feeling the way he does, because he doesn’t deserve it…”

“Jesus…” Niall shakes his head, probably already knowing where this is heading.

“And then he told me that his wife’s death was his fault. That was… pretty intense.”

“I can imagine.”

“I know I have to talk to him about it, but I’m really afraid he might shake it off, but it seems like he is having some serious issues and I wouldn’t want things to get out of hands. That’s why I thought I would talk to you, maybe you know what to do or how to approach him with such a sensitive subject.”

“Yeah, I get it. It’s nice of you for being so considerate,” Niall nods, scratching his chin. “Alright, I’ll tell you what I know, but please also let him tell you if he decides to share it with you.” You nod and turn all your attention to him. “I didn’t find this out until about two months after Maggie’s death, but apparently, the night she died they had a fight. Maggie had been nagging Harry to have another baby, but he wanted to wait a little longer, until Izzy is older so they don’t have two babies at the same time. Harry said they had another big fight about it, said some pretty nasty things to each other before Maggie just stormed out to go over to her sister’s. She made it there, but… never made it back home.”

A shiver runs down your spine at the thought of how devastating it must have been, losing your partner after an intense fight without ever making up.

“Understandably, Harry completely lost his shit. For weeks he was barely functioning and we all knew he was grieving, but we didn’t know that he was blaming himself for what happened. When he wasn’t getting any better we somehow convinced him to go to therapy which luckily helped him immensely, but he stopped going a while ago. I thought he got things straight in his head about this whole Maggie situation, but I guess he is still hung up on that.”

“What about the drinking, did that happen a lot?”

“Not that I know of. I mean, yeah, he got wasted quite a few times, but only at the beginning. I don’t think you should be afraid that he might turn into an alcoholic. I think he is just really struggling right now because of the conflict he is having because of you.”

“Because of me?”

“Yeah, he is clearly very confused about his feelings for you and he has convinced himself he shouldn’t feel this way towards anyone ever, but then you came,” he chuckles softly giving you a knowing look.

“Niall, I don’t know what I’m supposed to do,” you breathe out, worry and fear slowly taking over your judgment.

“First and foremost just… be patient with him, okay? This is genuinely the first time he has taken an interest in anyone since Maggie and I think he has already taken some big steps, which is a good sign. Try to talk to him and be open, but don’t push him. I know it can be really annoying when he keeps things, but let him tell you everything at his own pace.”

You nod, understanding the importance of not rushing Harry into anything. Just because you want to get over the awkwardness of the current situation, you can’t push him over his own boundaries.

“Okay, I’ll try to do that,” you nod taking a deep breath. “Thank you, Niall.”

“Oh, and don’t let him give you the ‘you work for me, we shouldn’t be doing this’ bullshit alright? He’ll try to make it out to be some kind of business, but it’s not. He needs to get himself out there and I genuinely think you’re the right person to help him with that.”

His words touch you and you’re not even sure how to react. Niall is clearly someone who stands close to Harry and if he thinks that you and him should give it a try, that must mean something. You can only hope that Harry will come around and think the same at one point.

Izzy gets a little fussy by the end of the day and it takes a lot of persuading to get her to bed in the evening. Harry arrived back home on his usual time and because it’s been such a hot day outside, he took her out to the pool. The problem with that is that Izzy never wants to get out of the water, so when Harry said it’s time for dinner she threw a bit of a tantrum as Harry brought her inside and her mood didn’t get any better later either.

You spent most of your night in the living room just watching TV and working on your laptop, updating your schedule for the upcoming weeks and doing some editing. Harry stays upstairs with Izzy for a long time when her bedtime comes and you figure she is still a little moody, but then you eventually hear his footsteps approaching. Harry pads his way into the living room and joins you on the couch. When you glance over at him you know he is trying to find a way to start the conversation you both know you need to have, so you put your laptop aside and turn your attention towards him.

“Y/N, I’m really sorry about last night. I’m honestly so terribly ashamed you had to… see me like that,” he starts, clearly nervous to bring it all up.

“It’s fine, happens to everyone,” you assure him and it’s the genuine truth.

“It’s not a regular occurrence, really. I usually know my limits and try to stay within them. I’m really sorry for making you uncomfortable.”

“Harry, don’t worry about it,” you tell him again with a warm smile. “We can get past it. I think what we really should talk about is… what you said. Do you remember what we talked about?” you carefully ask.

“I do…” he nods, awkward diverting his eyes away from you. “I’m sorry I told you all that in that state, I didn’t… I didn’t mean to just pour it all on you so suddenly.”

“It’s alright.” “No, it’s not,” he protests shaking his head. “I dropped a bomb on you because I couldn’t deal with my own problems the right way, and it’s not okay. So please, just… accept my apology.”

“Okay, I accept it,” you nod.

“And about the whole thing with… What I told you about Maggie…”

“Just know that you don’t have to talk about it now if you don’t want to. I’m happy to listen whenever you are ready to, but I’m not trying to push you.”

“I know and thank you for that, but I feel like… I owe you an explanation,” he admits and you nod, happy that he is willing to talk instead of closing himself off entirely. “The day Maggie died, we got into this huge fight and she ran off to her sister. It was… a whole mess, we both said things we clearly didn’t mean and I texted her, tried to get her to come home so we could talk things out. That’s when… she was on her way home when it happened and… I still feel like it was my fault.” His voice dies down at the end, just like it did last night when he was talking about her. It clearly left a deep scar on him that’s still not entirely healed and you can’t blame him.

“Everyone keeps telling me that it wasn’t, that it was just all one big coincidence, but all I can think about is that she would still be here if we didn’t get into the fight and I didn’t piss her off so much she felt the need to leave.”

“There was no way for you to see what would happen, Harry. It’s not like you did it on purpose, you had no power over the drunk driver or where Maggie chose to drive home. It really was a coincidence.”

“I know, I mean… I understand, but somehow, my mind keeps telling me that it was my fault.”

“Have you thought about… getting professional help?” you ask, trying to be polite and cautious on the topic.

“Actually, I just called my therapist today to see if… she can fit me in for some sessions,” he admits and you’re surprised at how great he is dealing with the matter. “I feel like I might need some guidance again, before things get out of my hands.”

“That’s great! It really is good to go a bit ahead of problems.”

“Yeah. About us…” he exhales nervously, his eyes meeting yours and you can tell this is the part that’s got him the most anxious. You take this as your queue to take over the conversation.

“Harry, I’m going to be honest with you,” you start and he nods, chewing on his bottom lip. “I… I have feelings for you. You haven’t been the only one making realizations,” you add with a soft chuckle, that brings a smile to his lips as well. “I know that the situation is not quite ideal, but it’s not impossible. But I just want you to be honest with me, do you have feelings for me?”

The conflict is clearer than daylight in his eyes as he is trying to figure out what to say and you really hope he isn’t gonna try to mask his feelings.

“I do,” he then admits and it’s like a giant rock has been lifted off your chest and shoulders. “It’s just… I’m not sure how to deal with it.”

“That’s alright,” you tell him. “Let’s just… take it slow. We’re not in a rush, we obviously have a lot to figure out and that’s completely fine. The pace is completely up to you, I know that you need to get a lot of things straight in your head and I can wait, okay? I’m not going anywhere, I really like where we are now and… I just hope that we can move this forward whenever you feel comfortable with it.”

Harry stares back at you for a moment like you’re some alien creature. Like what you just said wasn’t normal or even human and that’s quite heartbreaking, because somewhere along the way he managed to convince himself that he is not worthy of the most basic decency.

“I-I can’t ask you to wait around while I figure my shit out, that’s not—“

“You’re not asking me, Harry,” you smile at him softly. “This is my decision.”

His eyes are shifting between yours and he is most likely looking for any sign of doubt or qualm, but there’s none, you genuinely meant everything you said.

“So, where does this leave us?” he then asks and you shrug your shoulders.

“Everything goes on like it used to and… whenever you are ready to take a step, just… let me know.”

You can tell he is filled with questions, but he just nods with a weak smile and leaves it at that. This will be a bumpy ride, but at least you are more or less on the same page now.

You haven’t been a big fan of birthday celebrations. You just never understood the big fuss about it, throwing a party for surviving another year? Seems a little weird. This is why you never treated this day any different.

The morning starts off as usual, only that you wake up to a few texts from friends and family, wishing you a happy birthday. Your mom has sent you a whole damn paragraph about how you made her life complete and it wouldn’t be the same without you in it. She does that every time, gets a little too sentimental about it, but you guess it’s because it reminds her of getting old herself as well, which is a sensitive topic in her book these days.

It’s a Sunday, so a day off for you. Coming downstairs you find Izzy and Harry sitting at the dining table, already having their breakfast as usual, but when she sees you, she jumps in her seat in excitement.

“Good morning, Y/N!” she beams with a wide smile, buzzing more than she usually does.

“Morning, Sunshine. Slept well?” you ask as you pour yourself some cereal and join them at the table. Izzy nods and then peeks at her father as if she is trying to hide something with him from you.

“Daddy, can we do it now?” she asks in a whisper, but it’s not quiet enough for you to not hear it.

Your eyes lock with Harry’s over the table and the butterflies in your stomach start dancing around right away when you see the tiny smirk tugging on his lips.

It’s been almost an entire week since your conversation with him and things finally seem to get in place for now. Harry had his first session with his therapist on Wednesday and though you can tell he is still trying to find his own boundaries, he doesn’t worry as much about the situation as he probably did before. He isn’t walking on eggshells around you, unsure how to act. More or less it’s the same as it was before the kiss, but there are tiny little things that still make it different. Stolen glances, lingering touches and sweet smiles are making your days more colorful now and it’s gotten you all giddy and… happy.

“What are you two plotting, huh?” you ask, pointing at them with your spoon before digging into the cereal. Izzy glances at Harry one last time and when he nods shortly, she turns to you and throws her arms in the air.

“Happy birthday, Y/N!” she cheers as Harry reaches over to the chair next to him and pulls up a box from under the table, handing it over to Izzy so she could give it to you. “This is for you!”

“You shouldn’t have gotten me anything!” you gasp, truly surprised by the gift. You were not expecting it at all.

“It’s not a birthday without gifts!” she giggles excitedly as she hands the box over. You push your cereal bowl to the side and set the gift to the table in front of you. “Open it!” she urges you, her little hands curled into fists as she watches your every move, as if it was her who just got a present.

Your eyes meet Harry’s green ones over the table once more and he is watching you with a small smile, probably enjoying that he could surprise you.

You pull on the bow on the top and then carefully take the wrapping paper off until the box is revealed underneath and you gas as soon as you realize what this is.

“Oh my God!” you breathe out in disbelief as you take a better look at the gift. Harry didn’t just get you something, he actually listened to what you were saying and remembered that you’re a big fan of oldschool cameras and you have a special love for polaroids. And now, in front of you in the box is your very own polaroid camera, something you’ve been really wanting to buy for yourself for a long time, but you just never got around to actually do it.

“Do you like it? Daddy said you’d really like it!” Izzy asks with big eyes, watching your reaction.

“Oh, I love it!” you breathe out, feeling all mushy and melted from the gesture. Izzy climbs over to your lap, hugging your neck. You wrap your arms around her in a bone crushing hug and you’re so thankful for having them both in your life.

Izzy sits on your lap as you get the camera out of the box and figure out how to work it. She then hops off your lap and poses for the first ever picture taken with your new favorite camera.

“But it’s blank!” she furrows her eyebrows when the photo comes out.

“Because you have to wait for it to develop. It’ll show up in a few minutes,” you smile, setting the photo down on the table.

Izzy sits in her seat, excitedly waiting for the photo to develop and in the meanwhile you join Harry in the kitchen where he is washing the dishes. He spots you and turns the tap off, turning to face you as he dries his hands off.

“You shouldn’t have gotten me anything,” you tell him softly, but really feel touched by the gesture.

“No, but I wanted to. Do you really like it?”

“I love it!” you chuckle in disbelief. How could he think you wouldn’t like it?!

You move forward, aiming for a hug out of instinct but then stop yourself, not wanting to cross any boundaries, but Harry notices the motion and for your surprise, he wraps you in a warm hug on his own. You melt against his hard chest, your nose buried into his shoulder as your arms circle around his waist.

When you lean back, you both keep your arms around each other, eyes meeting and you realize just how close you are to each other. Without even knowing, your gaze flickers down to his lips and you’re dying to kiss him, to feel them again, but you don’t move, wanting to keep your word about letting him set the pace.

But what you didn’t expect is Harry leaning down and capturing your lips in a sweet, innocent kiss. It’s so different from the last time, that was a hot mess, but this one… this is light as a feather but still makes your stomach somersault as you taste his lips, cupping his face in your hands.

“Daddy! I’m thirsty!” Izzy calls out from outside and it kind of ends the moment. Harry pulls back and when you look at him you see that his eyes are still closed. They flutter open a moment later, finding your gaze and you look for any kind of regret or fear in them, but they are nothing but shiny.

“Just a moment, baby!” he answers her, a small smile tugging on his lips as he leans down and pecks the corner of your mouth again before his hands fall from your waist. “Happy birthday, Y/N,” he breathes out before grabbing a bottled water and heading back to Izzy.

You bring your fingertips to your tingling lips as you take a moment to really process what just happened and you can’t push down the smile that spreads across your face. Harry finally took the first step and now you can’t wait to see what’s coming next.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

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tinisprout · 3 years

Text

A Kiss to Remember

Pairing: Hyunjae x gn!Reader

Genre: Fluff, mutual pinning

Warnings: profanities like a lot, alcohol consumption, jokes of killing

Word count: 2.4k

Summary: After a kiss you spend a month of trying to figure out your own feeling you come to the conclusion that you like Hyunjae. You wonder how to deal with these feelings, especially when he doesn't feel that way about you, at least that's what you think.

a/n: Happy birthday Hyunjae Im a little late y'all don't mind that.

When you have been friends for so long is it better to just stay as such? Should I just bury these budding feelings before, it becomes something I can’t handle? I look at my hand, the one that casually reached out to him and had been reached out to by him many times before. It was only recently that holding him like that made my heart tickle. After today there is no denying my feelings, I like Hyunjae.

“So do I just cut them off or…,” I bite my lip struggling with a decision. How would I even go about stopping these feelings?! “Ugh, why does he suddenly have to be so appealing.” around a month ago after one of our nights out drinking, we somehow ended up making out. Sure we always lightly flirted with each other, but that’s just how we are, nothing was ever taken seriously like there was a line we knew that shouldn’t be crossed.

That night it was crossed, but I’m the only one that has any recollection of it happening. Hyunjae remembers nothing of that night and I’m left to deal with these complicated feelings. I didn’t tell him cause, whatever, it’s not like we have feelings for each other anyways. It’s just something that happened, I don’t have to make a big deal of it. That’s what I thought at first, then I noticed how my eyes started to linger on him.

For this past month, I’ve been trying to gauge these feelings for him, to say I like him after one measly kiss is too much. Now I know for sure, but what do I do now? How he acts towards me now is no different from how he’s always treated me, so it’s not like he looks at me in that way.

“No, this is not what I should be thinking about right now! I have to get ready, gotta go soon.”

Hyunjae’s birthday party is tonight, I can’t make today about me. I’ll just act like normal today, he’ll never know the difference.

***

Walking into the designated lounge room for Hyunjae’s party I was greeted by a few familiar faces and some unfamiliar. I was given a wave and nod by some of my friends before almost being knocked off my feet.

“Y/N! You’re finally here, I’ve been waiting for you!” Hyunjae throws himself into my arms giving me a tight squeeze. I freeze up and then remind myself that I should act naturally.

“And a hello to you too. Drunk already I see birthday boy,” I say tapping his back with one hand trying to not get too close. Jacob comes up offering a smile in greeting and I smile back.

“You need to control yourself,” Jacob says then pulling Hyunjae off me falling into his arms, and I thank him with a nod. Hyunjae struggles in Jacob’s hold wanting to break free, then Jacob whispers something in Hyunjae’s ears and he stops struggling, instead, slumping in his arms letting himself be dragged away back to his seat. Looking back to the rest of the table I see my best friend Sunwoo waving me over the free spot next to him. I take a seat and Sunwoo pulls me in giving me a side hug and I reciprocate, doing the same.

“So you want to tell me what that was all about?” He leans in whispering to me.

“What are you talking about?”

“Seriously? I saw the way you blushed like a schoolgirl that was told they are cute by their crush when Hyunjae hugged you.”

“No way!” In shock, I pull away from Sunwoo rubbing at my forehead. I pretend I don’t see the eyes of everyone else go to me at my outburst, and get closer to Sunwoo, whispering again. “Was I that obvious?”

“So you’re admitting that there was something going on there?” He gives a sly smirk and I realize I’ve been had.

“You’re the worst.”

“Yeah yeah, but why am I only hearing about this today?”

“Because I’ve only acknowledged it myself today.”

“Acknowledged it? Just how long have I been out of the loop and does that mean that the two of you are…?” He trailed off letting me fill in the blank.

“Nothing. This is all just one-sided, he should have no idea.”

“You’re fucking kidding me right?”

“What?” Sunwoo sighs at my words and wraps his arms around my shoulder again.

“I’m your bestie, right? I’m also Hyunjae’s friend, correct?”

“Yes, and?”

“Exactly. Now, look at Hyunjae. If anyone else was in my position with you, he would not be looking at us, like a sad frog, but glaring at the person in my place. You get it?” Hyunjae did have his stupid-looking frog face on display, but no, that probably cause he was reprimanded by Jacob.

“No, Hyunjae doesn’t see me like that.”

“Sure maybe at the start of your friendship he didn’t, but the way I see it is, there is a -2% chance that he doesn’t see you that way.”

“And the way I see it is that I shouldn’t even be thinking about this tonight. I just want to get through tonight without a problem, have some fun. I can figure out everything else later.”

"Okay, whatever. My friends are a bunch of oblivious morons." He mumbles the last part knowing damn well I can still hear him.

"Say that again mother fucker. I'll kill you.” I playfully shove Sunwoo and he pretends to be hurt.

“Yo chill!” The both of us laugh out loud and then there is the slamming of shot glasses by the two of us. I turn to see it was Hyunjae, he looks at me with a pout but doesn’t say anything.

“There is a drinking rule. Every time someone joins the party we gotta take a shot,” Jacob explains in Hyunjae’s place.

“Oh, so that’s why he is already smashed.” There was still a deal more empty seats left… is Hyunjae going to survive tonight? Everyone pours themselves a drink, the ones that got here were first looking a little sick while the rest of us were fine, we all down the drinks. The night continues with good vibes, till the last guest arrives with a plus one. Both are unfamiliar faces to me.

“Sorry I’m late, Hyunjae. Also thanks for letting me bring my sister, she really wanted to meet my friends.” The man and his sister wish Hyunjae a happy birthday and take the only seats left available which just so happened to be next to the birthday man himself. With the arrival of two new guests, everyone takes the mandatory shot. I could feel a little more than a buzz, but overall still fine.

The conversation was flowing as normal as everyone was having a good time. A few more drinks in when everyone was a little drunker, open, and comfortable things got a little more handsy. Whatever that’s what people do when they’re drunk, but I couldn’t notice just how handsy that new girl was getting with Hyunjae.

“Good lord, Y/N. Are you trying to kill her with your eyes?” Snapping out of it, I look to sunwoo how was laughing his ass off.

“I might be,” getting mad at myself for the silly words, I rub roughly at my forehead. “So stupid. I don’t have any right to be mad. He isn’t my boyfriend or anything.” The girl tries to casually grab for Hyunjae’s hand and I quickly look up groaning, “That should be me.”

“Damn, you’re down bad.”

“You’re right!” I pour myself another drink, downing it as fast as I can. “I hope I get so shwasted that I forget everything!”

“I take no responsibility for whatever happens tonight, but hell yeah!” Sunwoo takes another shot. The night continues smoothly and everything is jovial except for every time I see her take an advance toward Hyunjae. The party started to slow down and eventually, everyone came to the decision that they could handle no more, so that party came to an end after a few good hours of drinking. After everyone except Hyunjae split the bill, one by one the people started leaving the lounge.

“Jacob I require your assistance home!” Sunwoo shouts to his friend and neighbor. Jacob nods, ready to leave, getting drunk was never his favorite thing. Sunwoo gets up slinging his arm around Jacob for support, and the two boys say goodbye to their friends. “Get home safe loser and get some dick while you’re at it.”

“Fuck off!” Sunwoo laughs as he walks away with Jacob. Only me, the brother-sister pair, and Hyunjae were left. I sure as hell wasn’t about to leave while they were still here, I want to hang out more. The brother as if hearing my wish says it’s time they head home.

The two get up to leave and the girl looks visibly sad while I do a little dance in my head. I walk up to Hyunjae and he looks at me then stands up like he was waiting for me. When I hear them walk out the door I can feel a smile grow on my face. Finally, no more people.

“Ready to go back home?” I ask him.

“You’re going to walk me back? How romantic.”

“We live one apartment building away from each other, stop being dramatic.”

“But still I’m ha-” my eye dart towards the sound of the lounge room door opening and see the familiar girl closing the door behind her. I cover Hyunjae’s mouth with my hand while I use my other one, taking the back of his neck and pulling him closer to me. Our lips only separated by my hand. Surely it looked like we were kissing right now, Hyunjae’s body should cover up the fact that we aren’t. Just let your mind fill in the blanks girl.

A few seconds after I can hear the sound of the door opening and closing again and a high-pitched, “I’m sorry.” from the girl. I’m sorry too… actually no I’m not. I pull away from Hyunjae and he looks stunned.

“Did we just kiss?”

“No, we didn’t. You kiss my hand.”

“Oh.” My eyes were certainly deceiving me cause it looked like he was a little disappointed by my answer.

“Well, let go.” He hums in response and we walk out of the establishment. Suddenly he wraps his arm around me. This isn’t much of a surprise since he was a clingy drunk. The walk was quiet, which was unusual for Hyunjae, maybe he is tired

“Where is my present?”

“You realize that your present was the party bill, right? Do you know just how much you drank compared to everyone else? That shit wasn’t cheap.”

“Hehe, yeah that’s why I drank so much. You know as a broke college student free drinks taste a lot better than anything you pay for!”

“As a broke college student, you would know after that I wouldn’t be able to afford a normal present, so don’t complain.”

“Who said you had to buy the present? Even something small, as long as it’s from you.”

“Why are you like this?” This is really the man I’ve come to like. “Fine, I will do any one thing for you.” He is quiet for a while.

“Two.”

“One.”

“Two!”

“Okay, fine two!” he is silent again.

“Really anything?”

“Anything within reason. If you have a body hidden in your closet right now, I would go help you bury it.”

“Then… can I be your boyfriend for a day. If not then just for the rest of the day or just an hour...” I’m so dumbfounded by his words that I stop walking.

“Do you even know what you’re saying?” He pulls away from me.

“Is that a no then?”

“I… Hyunjae, do you… like me?” He nods. “As a friend?”

“Yes, but more than that. I want to hold you all the time, kiss, and more.” He brings his hand up to his face trying to hide his embarrassment. It did nothing to hide how red his ears became.

“I like you too.” Hyunjae perked up at my words. Now I was feeling embarrassed.

“Really?”

“Yeah. I’ll accept your request.” He hugs me again as he did back at the party.

“Then my other request, can we go back to my place?”

“Are we going to do the “and more” stuff you were talking about?” He thinks for a moment and then goes red in the face.

“No! It’s too soon and I’m way too shit-faced right now anyway. I just want to hold you.”

“Good answer.”

***

In the apartment I was oh so familiar with, I lay in Hyunjae’s bed with his arms wrapped around me. My heart was pounding at first but I soon calmed, getting used to the new situation. The lights were off and we were ready to sleep. It was peaceful, but I had this one lingering question and worry in my head.

“Hyunjae?”

“Hmm?”

“Will you remember this in the morning?”

“Of course why would I forget?”

“Because you forgot that we kissed already.” Shocked by my words he shot up in his spot.

“We what?!”

“It was like a month ago. It’s whatever since you don’t remember.”

“...I’m sorry… was I good?”

“Shut up.” I pinch his side and he yelps.

“Okay jeez, I’m just joking. But is that when you started to like me?”

“Not exactly, but it did all develop from then. Why?”

“I’ve liked you for a long time and have been trying for almost a year to get you to notice me in that way. I didn’t expect you to say you liked me back, so I wanted to know when it changed. Ah, I’m glad I never gave up.” He laid back down, hugging me close again.

“Alright don’t kill me now,” he loosens his grip on me in response.

“Can I kiss you again? I promise I won’t forget this time.”

“Hmm, I think you’re fresh out of requests.” He pouts, which is just the look I wanted to see from him.

“I’m messing with you, but just a little bit. If you really remember when you wake up them I’ll let you kiss me more, as my real boyfriend.”

“I’m going to remember and then I’m going to kiss you so much you’ll get sick of my affection!”

“Uh-huh, let’s just see if you can keep your word.” We both lean into each other and kiss, soft and passionate.

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wish-that-i-was-buckys-girl · 3 years

Note

For dayton can you write being childhood best friends with him and you've always been there at his races and one day your running late so you don't get to see him before for his pep talk. And his race goes horribly and eventually when he sees you he gets angry and you get in to a argument. But eventually he makes it up to you.

A/N: Alright, here’s my first go at writing for Dayton White! I watched Logan Lucky and absolutely adored it. Dayton does not get the love he deserves! I decided Im going to make this at least a two parter, potentially spanning into one or two more. I really want to dive into the past with these two! This will focus more on their relationship growing up, while the second (and potentially third) part will contain more of the angst. Once again if I don’t write for a Seb character you like, just ask and I’ll try and gain access to it! I hope you guys enjoy. I also really hate to do this, but I recently quit my job due to a toxic work environment. Here is my ko-fi, if you can donate that would be cool, but if you can’t no pressure!!! Love you all ❤️

https://ko-fi.com/kyleey01

Pairings: Dayton White x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, no proofreading (I’ll get to it)

Word Count: 2.5k

You’re Always There Part 1

Your earliest memory of Dayton was meeting him at Memorial Park in your hometown. You were both 5 years old, new to the world outside of your home. It was the day before Kindergarten, and both of your parents wanted you to make new friends before the first day of school. Hopefully meeting someone in your class, they felt you wouldn’t be as scared being truly away from them for the first time. You only had a single mom, and she did everything for you that she could, even taking you to the park after her long day at work. Dayton had both parents, making it easier for him to let go and meet new people. His home was “complete” by societal standards.

“Mommy I don’t wanna go play on the slide. I wanna go home and play dinosaurs with you” you said looking up at your mother.

She kneeled down to look you in the eye, holding her shining gaze with yours looking both serious and concerned, “Honey, you know you go to school tomorrow. This is your chance to go meet someone new, maybe even have a friend when you go into school tomorrow.”

You were extremely hesitant. You loved your momma, and she loved you more than anything. You had friends on your street that you liked to play with, but your mom was never far away, only a quick yell and she would be there. This was different. She had told you she wasn’t going to be there if you needed her, and that you would have to wait until school was over to see her again. You cried for two days straight after you had the “school” talk. What were you going to do without your mom? She was your superhero, your friend, and the best mother in the whole wide world. You didn’t need anyone else. That’s what you thought, at least. Until you met Dayton.

“Go on chickadee, go make some friends. You’re a big girl now who can build pyramids with blocks and cut out dinosaurs with scissors, you can do anything” your mother said with a smile.

This was all you needed to muster up the courage to conquer the slide. You nodded at your mom and ran off towards the wooden playground. They really should’ve made these things plastic, with splinters and bee stings being common afflictions of being on the playground, but it didn’t matter to you. It was fun all the same.

You began to climb the steps of the huge castle, making your way through drawbridges and holes through the wood to get to the slide. There were two other little girls there, a little older than you, maybe seven. You mustered up a quiet “hi” but they didn’t hear you, already screaming and running off in a different direction. Just when your hopes of making a friend had been dashed, you heard another voice from behind you.

“Hi. What’s your name?”

A boy of brunette hair and ocean blue eyes was staring at you expectantly. You weren’t expecting anyone to respond except those girls, so you were timid at first. You opened your mouth to speak several times but nothing came out. You started to become overwhelmed, tears welling up in your eyes.

The boy noticed, looking at you confused. He had only asked you your name. However, his momma always said if someone was crying, you fix it.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to tell me your name. Do you need a hug?”

All you could do was nod, strangely opening up to this welcoming boy. He smiled and brought you in for a tiny hug. He wants gentle, kind of rough actually as he swayed you back and forth with energy. He pulled away, hoping you had felt better. You did.

“I’m Dayton” he said, smiling at you.

You smiled back, with tear stains still on your cheek.

“I’m Y/N”

“Y/N, it looks like you need another hug” Dayton gave you another hug, holding you until he stopped hearing the faint sniffle that escaped your body every so often.

You pulled away, nodding to indicate you were alright now.

“You wanna go down the slide? My mommy is probably wondering where I am” Dayton asked innocently.

You nodded, relief washing over you that someone wanted to be your friend

“That sounds awesome.”

_______________________________________________

From that day forward, you and Dayton were attached at the hip. Elementary school had been a breeze. Thankfully, Dayton was in your class your first year. Although it didn’t stay that way, you would always find time to meet and play during recess. Recess time turned into meeting after school, and meeting after school extended into high school.

Dayton began racing during freshman year. Your school offered a racing club which allowed students to meet after school and go to various tracks in the state to see what it was like to race. You and Dayton had always gone Go-Kart driving on the weekends, but you never thought it would turn into anything serious. Dayton, however, has found his passion. He started building his own race car after school sophomore year, and even asked if you would come over to help. You knew absolutely nothing about building a race car, but Dayton wanted you to be there and that’s all that mattered.

“Y’know I know nothing about building a damn car right? Do YOU even know anything about building a car?” you posed to Dayton in an almost accusatory tone.

“As a matter of fact, Y/N, I have been studying how to build this ‘damn car’ for over a year now, so why don’t you put a little respect on Francine’s name?”

“Well, Dayton, I suggest you begin studying geometry before you fail the quarter. And you named the thing already? Is it your lover or you car?”

“It’s both” he gave you a weird wink, one on the left, and then another on the right in secession.

“You are absolutely gross, White. I can’t believe I ever agreed to go down that slide with you when we were five. It was probably all apart of your evil plan to keep me from being someone else’s best friend just so I could build this car with you” you rolled your eyes as you sat on the hood of his family car.

“God you’re so right. You caught me. Our entire friendship has been a sham, and it all led up to this moment. And now that I finally have you where I want you...” he said with a low growl, planting both of his hands on either side of you as you sat on the hood of his car.

“I’m gonna get ya!” He said tickling your sides

You shrieked, absolutely taken aback that his hands were all over you.

God, his hands were all over you.

Alright, maybe he is cute, but there was no way you two would ever date. You came to that conclusion a long time ago. Your crush developed in the 6th grade, which is absolutely astounding considering middle schoolers are anything but normal. Even in the most awkward stage of life Dayton still managed to be charming and cute as ever. You were determined to tell him, but he would never shut up about Stacey Waterson. You hated her with every fiber of your being. What was wrong with you after all? You had it all, at least that’s what your mom said. You were decently pretty, immensely funny, and his best friend. You shared everything together. What more could he want? Well, the answer to that question would be Stacey Waterson. He wanted her, and not you.

You came back to from the tickling after laughing for what seemed like minutes. Your sides were hurting from contracting your ab muscles for too long. You pushed Dayton off of you playfully, but he pounced back on you, pinning your arms above your head.

“Say the password and I’ll let you go” he stared you down, being absolutely serious.

However, you wanted to double check.

“You can’t be serious” you retorted back, completely flustered due to the situation you were currently in on top of the incessant tickling that occurred just moments before.

“Oh, I’m serious. Say the password and I’ll let you go!” He said with a huge smile on his face.

“Jesus Christ, let me go you dick” you said while struggling to get up.

Dayton made a loud buzzing sound in your face.

“Try again!”

“Dayton come on let me up!”

Dayton made another loud buzzing sound in your face.

“Come on Y/N, just one little word and this can all go away. All you gotta do is say..”

“Goddamnit Dayton, chicken! Chicken for fuck’s sake” you said waiting for his response.

Dayton made another loud buzzing sound in your face.

“I’m sorry, that’s the old password. There’s a new password” he smiled at you, knowing this was ridiculous.

You finally mustered up the strength to push him off of you.

“What do you mean the password has changed!”

The password “chicken” has been used in every single scenario since you first let. For whatever reason, You and Dayton found that word hilarious when you were at a birthday party in the third grade. It was Danny Henry’s 8th birthday, and of course it was chicken themed. Every child gets infatuated with a new thing every year. Danny happened to live on a farm, and all year he wouldn’t stop talking about getting a pet chicken. You all wore chicken hats, there were chicken plates, a chicken cake. There was even a “Pin the Beak on the Chicken” game which, if you do say so yourself, was way more entertaining than “Pin the Tail on the Donkey.” You and Dayton lost it by the time your mom picked you up from the party, absolutely hysterical in the backseat. Ever since then, it was your secret password for everything.

“I was thinking we should change stuff up. Make up a new password, it has been seven years since we thought of one.”

“Oh yeah? And what is this new life changing password that is soooo good that our childhood memory is being brushed under the rug?” you question.

Dayton had an almost hurt look on his face, but he proposed the new password to you anyways.

“I thought the new password could be Francine. Y’know, I just think this is another great milestone in our friendship, working on this car and all. This day is really important to me and I’m glad you’re here” he said with sincerity.

You didn’t know what to say. This day did mean a lot to him, and your friendship overall.

You nodded in agreement.

“Alright, the new password is Francine. However, I will still be accepting chicken as a password in the future.”

Dayton smiled one of the biggest smiles you had ever seen.

“Deal. Now, let’s get this car on the road. We have a lot of work to do if I’m gonna be ready for my first ever official race next Saturday.”

______________________________________________

Race day was here. You woke up early next Saturday morning and drove over to Dayton’s house to pick him up to go to the race track. Dayton’s dad was taking his race car down in their trailer, but you and Dayton wanted to head to your special place before the race. It was eight o’clock in the morning and Dayton had until noon to get to the race track.

Ever since the 6th grade, you and Dayton would walk to this rock in the woods after school to talk about your day. Your mom got home at seven every night, so you only had four hours to do something before she got home and realized you were “missing.” You talked about everything on that rock, and that rock was also where you realized you had the biggest crush on someone since your infatuation with Paul Rudd in “Clueless.”

You pulled up in your beat up Dodge Intrepid, newly sporting your license. You grabbed some granola bars and bottles of orange juice to enjoy while sitting on the rock.

You both sat down on ground, leaning up against the thing. You both sighed and enjoyed the crisp cool morning air. Finally, you broke the silence.

“You nervous for today?”

Dayton looked down between his legs while chewing on his granola bar.

“I am absolutely terrified. I mean, what if I mess up?”

You laughed a little.

He looked at you with confusion.

“What’s so funny?”

You shook your head.

“it’s your first are Dayton. It’s okay to be nervous and even mess up. At the end of the day, everyone is going to be proud of you. We’ll all tell you how great you did because we know how much you care about this. You’ll do amazing.”

He smiled, almost not expecting such kind words to come from your mouth.

“You’re something else Y/N, ya know that?”

“Oh yeah? Stacey Waterson is something else too I bet” you said half jokingly, half serious.

He rolled his eyes.

“Who gives a fuck about Stacey Waterson when I have a girl like you to cheer me on and surprisingly gives the best pep talks.”

“Well the way I see it she was the one who got the invitation to prom, not little old me who will be spending that Saturday night in my basement playing my PlayStation.”

He shook his head again.

“I never asked Stacey to prom.”

You suddenly shifted to look at him square in the face.

“What?”

“I said, I didn't ask Stacey to prom.”

You were dumbfounded. He told you he was absolutely determined to take her. What had changed?

“W-Why? Why didn’t you ask her?”

He kept smiling and shaking his head.

“God Y/N, for being one of the smartest girls I have ever met you really can be dumb sometimes.”

“Excuse you, Dayton White, I happen to be taking AP U.S History, Honors Biology, and-”

That’s when you thought heaven had fell down from the skies and landed right on that rock.

Dayton had leaned in and kissed you. God, why did he have to be so charming?

He slowly took your lip into his mouth and gently sucked on it. You reciprocated by taking his top lip into your mouth and began moving your mouth with his. Time had stopped. It felt like you had molded into one person, enjoying the sensation of each other’s lips.

He finally pulled away, looking you dead in the eyes.

“Do you understand now?”

You nodded, still stunned by his actions.

“I think we better go. I wanna see this handsome boy I kissed win his first race.��

#dayton white #dayton white x reader #Sebastian Stan #sebastian stan characters #logan lucky

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burnedbyshoto · 5 years

Text

a brush of luck

— In a world where soulmates exist you can communicate yours with a brush of a pen. It just doesn’t help that you are a certified idiot with a skill in misplacing things. —

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pairing: todoroki shouto x reader

warnings: fluff, angst, soulmate!au, cursing

word count: 4,229

a/n: this is for the bnaharem collab and I was super horrible and was not ready and i just woke up and threw this together please dont hate me uhuhuhuhhh see the masterlist here!!!

message to join my tag list!

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“Hey, y/l/n, you forget this!”

Your hair was falling into your face, your face flustered, and your binders filled with paper seemed to be liquid as they slowly fell to the ground.

Kaminari stood behind you when you turned around. His lips were picked into a kind smile. It was a teasing one too by the small glint in his eyes while he held onto your backpack and phone. A look of self-realized stupidity washed over your face when your head threw back into a groan. How stupid were you, really?

“I’m so sorry!” you exclaimed, throwing your things onto the nearest desk. You felt the tips of your ears burn with embarrassment when Kaminari helped you slip on your backpack and pocketed your phone in the jacket pocket. “I swear I’m the most forgetful person in the world.”

“Well, you do really clinch the title of the person who would forget their head if it wasn’t on their shoulders.”

Snorting, you shoved him with your shoulder, and he helped you regather your things with a low groan.

“Let’s see the tattoo,” you grin, ready to head out once again. Groaning loudly, Kaminari didn’t seem to want to give in to your demand, but still, with a twitch of his eye and a shove of his sleeve, he showed off his arm. “You know what, I’m going to say it—”

“I’m going to say it, I don’t care that you broke your elbows,” Kaminari finishes the phrase with you with a snort.

“Do you think it’s the first thing out of their mouth or matching tattoo?” you asked curiously when you blond best friend also prepped to leave the classroom for the day.

“I hope its the first thing out of their mouth, imagine how fucking ultra sexy foxy hot that would be,” Kaminari moaned, his eyes rolling to the back of his eyes at the thought. Gagging at the visual horniness of that thought, you walked away, grinning at the way that Kaminari stumbled over his feet to catch up with you.

This was the world you lived in, the world of soulmates.

You weren’t sure when they had first started, but you know that it wasn’t always a phenomenon that was around. When you roamed the internet looking at old, old stories on soulmates, these theories, these worlds were built on one single concept.

They wrote about a world of black and white for everyone until that fateful moment, or matching tattoos for everyone. But no, this world was much more complicated, much more detailed. Yes, in the world there were a lot of theories that ended up being true, but the thing they didn’t see coming was that every couple — every polyamorous relationship consisted of a unique theme.

Kaminari’s soulmate was linked with tattoo’s, and the purpose behind said symbol was unknown, unheard of until he met them. Yours, as you could guess and know, was also different. Pressing your fingers against the pen that sat on the inside pocket of your uniform jacket, you smiled when Kaminari’s arm was thrown around you.

“At least you’ve never lost or forgotten that pen of yours, that would be dangerous!”

“I promise I will never ever forget it.”

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You sat on your bed nearing midnight. You were cocooned into your blankets flipping through your Hero Lawbook that you were supposed to have read months ago, but now finally was. Humming to yourself, you read through the apparent laws and the not so evident laws.

For instance, there is a law that Pro Heroes are not allowed to eat off the edge of buildings anymore! American transfer students had littered so much it became a law!

Snorting to yourself, you flipped the page.

But something warm pressed into your forearm, the most heated energy that sent shivers down your spine. It was comforting as it was ethereal. The second your body recognized the feeling, the Hero Lawbook went soaring across the room, and you grabbed your pen that was waiting at your side for ages now.

Hi, sorry I’m just able to get back to you. I had a bunch of homework and friends who just let me leave them.

Smiling to yourself, you twirled the pen in your fingers and scribbled down your response:

It’s all good, I’ve been studying this entire time too, was just bored and didn’t respond to you earlier today!

Your soulmate theme was straightforward and quite comprehensive — it was dubbed the Forearm and Pen theme (you hated that theme). You could communicate with your soulmate by writing with the pen on your arm, but it only worked with that pen, nothing else.

The year you were to turn sixteen, you received a pen from literally out of the blue. You remember celebrating New Year with your class in your first year at U.A.; it had been an enjoyable night! Everything in life was still going fantastic, and your class was finally past the excellent friend’s point and felt like a genuine family. You remember hugging and telling everyone good night, still being fifteen at that point, and stumbling back to your room exhausted.

When you had gotten back to your room, you didn’t even undress; simply tugging off your pants and removing your bra, you threw yourself onto the bed. But you had landed on something stiff and painful, groaning your hands shuffled for whatever it was that you fell on, and when you grabbed it, you froze at the sight of the white box.

Was this a gift?

Your entire life, you had always wondered if you did have a soulmate, most people you knew after all had soulmate markers that appeared since birth. But you were perfectly normal. You saw all colors; you had no shared pain; there was no tattoo, no mind link, no dream meetings.

Nothing.

You were normal.

Sighing, you opened the box, hoping that it was from someone you at the very least respected.

Inside was a silver pen.

You blinked your eyes rapidly, unsure of what you were looking at, there were no initials, no engraving, nothing.

It was an exquisite pen, and despite what you thought, it was very, very light. Frowning, your fingers pushed down on the pen, but there was nothing that came out, was there no ink?

Shrugging, you dragged it against your arm feeling the way that the cool tip delicately massaged your arm. It felt nice.

“Holy shit!”

Your eyes saw the pretty grey silvery ink on your forearm. It stood out against your skin, the ink appearing nowhere else but your arm, and then it hit you.

This was for your soulmate!

With excitement tearing through you, your exhaustion no longer bitting on your skull, but the overwhelming need to know that this was for your soulmate shook you awake. Twirling the pen in your fingers, you couldn’t help but start writing.

OMG HI

You sat there staring at your forearm, unsure as to what to do next. What do you do next?

Hey?

If your heart could be anywhere but your chest, you were nearly positive it existed within your throat at this very moment. This was nervewracking, holy shit.

Sorry, you don’t know me, but I’m ___ ___.

You frowned when you tried to write your name, it was stopping you.

It seems that we do have some rules to this entire thing.

They responded back to you, and as if they could hear you, you groaned loudly.

This soulmate shit was already stopping your excitement, it seemed.

From that very first night, the two of you were able to discover a few things. First off, anything too personal was not allowed to be written out. So names, location, and gender were the biggest ones. Birthdays were not, and you were quick to find out that both of you were still fifteen. Second of all, just because you couldn’t figure out where exactly you both were located, you did manage to put together that you were both in Japan. Third of all, your soulmate was a Hero in Training just like you and was a male. Last, of all, you were quick to realize that you were in love with the way your body felt like it was gently warming up whenever he messaged you.

I think I deserve a round of applause.

You grinned after writing your sentence, your eyes watching while the warmth filled your body and his writing slowly appearing on your forearm.

Did you not forget anything today? I find that hard to believe.

You had to suppress a scream.

WELL, IT HAPPENED! I GOT EVERYTHING I NEEDED TO BRING BACK TO MY ROOM WITH ME!!

Weren’t you the one who forgot to bring your entire backpack to school the other day?

NO! I said I almost did, but my bestie got it for me!

How do you forget everything? I think you should try to make a list to make sure that you always have things you need for the day.

... I do… but I always lose the list, and im always running late…

You’re the worst…

Congrats bbg, I’m your soulmate

The world really doesn’t want to bless me with a good life, it seems…

HEY, THAT’S MEAN!

The two of you banter for what seems like hours, the night sky fading from blackness to the deep blue of the sky right before the sunrise. You had spent the entire night curled into your pillow, your face shoved into the soft fabric to suppress your chortling snorts because you geniunely enjoyed interacting with your soulmate. But it was late, and you both had classes early that next morning.

Okay, asshole, I need to sleep! I got this stupid test tomorrow that I did not study for. I'll write to ya tomorrow!! Goodnight!!!

Don’t be rude to your soulmate :( but goodnight, and good luck on that test, sorry for keeping you up.

Smiling at his words, you put the pen to your forearm one last time.

I will never ever accept your apology for making me stay up, I love talking with you, goodnight soulmate, sweet dreams.

You placed the pen down, your eyes fluttering close, heavy with sleep. But still, no exhaustion could suppress the fluttering warmth in your body when words appeared on your arm.

Sweet dreams, soulmate.

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

“Fuck, sorry,” you groaned when you sleepily slammed into the person standing in front of you.

Blinking tiredness away from your eyes — poorly at that too — you focused up at Shouto. Grinning, you waved at your classmate, who looked almost as exhausted as you felt and definitely looked.

“It’s okay,” he nodded at you stepping to the side so that the two of you could walk side to side.

“You ready for that test today?” you asked after moments of silence.

You and Todoroki Shouto were not as close as you would like to be. Since day one, you had always had a thing for the duality of a man, and while it was mostly superficial feelings derived from the fact that he was attractive above anything else, it still made you awkward around him. At the time, your feelings were still holding you down, you always fully believed that you had no soulmate, so you thought maybe you could sweep him off his feet. It was rumored that his scar covered up his own soulmate mark, so there was no way for him to know who his soulmate was.

Selfishly and embarrassingly, you hoped that you could have him.

Then you met your soulmate, and things changed.

But now you and your classmates were all eighteen and held the world in your hands, yet you couldn’t speak to him usually still.

“There’s no test today?” Shouto stilled, his eyes narrowing in confusion, and your eyes screwed too.

“Isn’t it… Friday? We have a Hero Law test?”

“Y/l/n,” Shouto snorted a grin spreading across his features, “It’s Wednesday.”

If there was a god, he would shoot you right now.

Your cheeks burned with embarrassment while you walked faster to the classroom, Shouto keeping up with your pace easily, he was taller than you after all.

“Shut up,” you warned, your gaze not reaching Shouto’s who was staring at you.

“I wasn’t speaking.”

“I could hear you thinking!”

Shouto put on a smirk, his eyes teasing you, and his mouth dropping to speak, but there was a loud interruption.

“Y/L/N-CHAAAANNNNNN!!!!”

Both of you turned to see Kaminari chasing after you, his arms waving, looking out of breath.

“YOU FORGOT YOUR JACKET AND TIE!”

Shouto chuckled beside you, and you stared down to see that you were, in fact, only wearing half of your uniform. If there’s a god, he will end you now, you thought.

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

You're not serious right now, are you?

Going on three years of knowing your soulmate, or at the very least talking with him, you thought you had a good understanding of who he was. He was strong, powerful, and kind. He came off a bit standoffish at times but was the dumbest person you’ve ever known. Common sense was not his friend, and that was okay.

Even at times when the two of you had your differing opinions because it did happen, it never snowballed more into a small annoyance that the two of you would apologize for and move on. But this was something that shouldn’t have had become a fight, it shouldn’t have been anything more potent than a difference of opinion, but when you suggested entertaining the thought of when the two of you would finally meet, he was uncharacteristically cold.

Hurt by his tone, you told him, and he said you to grow up until it became this written fight.

Why couldn’t you talk about meeting?

Why didn’t he want to think about what would happen when the two of you would meet?

It was getting ugly for no reason, a fight just to fight, and it was making you nauseous.

But he crossed a line that couldn’t be fixed when he wrote a simple sentence:

Just because you’re my soulmate doesn’t mean I have to love you, meet you, or marry you.

So there you sat, your bottom lip trembling with tears streaking down your blotchy face. He wasn’t being serious, was he? There was no way… no fucking way this was him. The warmth that flooded your body with his new message felt ice-cold, poisoning you from the inside out while you read it.

You're my soulmate, but I have no obligation to do anything with you now or ever. The world chose you for me, not me. I didn’t choose you. I don’t owe you anything here. Soulmates are bullshit and don’t fucking bother messaging me again if you expect me to fall in love with you just because our “souls are connected”

It was needless to say that you didn’t respond back, not because you felt like he should love you because of your connected souls, but because your sobbing and broken emotions left you curled into a ball, ready for a sleepless slumber to take you.

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

“You don’t look too hot,” Kaminari told you, hitting you with his foot when your bleary and puffy eyes stared at your best friend.

Kirishima and Mina, who were sitting beside him, elbowed him at the same time, berating him for his insensitive comment. You could feel Sero and Bakugou staring at you, their eyes concerned and curious.

“What’s eating ya up?” Sero asked, and you found a rock-forming in your throat when you shrugged.

“Soulmate problems…”

“That was fucking obvious,” Bakugou rolled his eyes, taking a drink of his water. “Tell us the problem, not a stupid summary.”

Surprisingly that’s all it took for you to come undone, and you explained what happened with tears falling down your face and a sniffling nose. There was a lot to tell them about it, and you showed them the pen while explaining the entire story. They listened to every word you uttered, faces concern but taking in everything you said.

“You’re an idiot,” Bakugou spoke the second you were finished, his eye twitching while he glared at you. You swallowed thickly, placing the pen on the table while Bakugou edged closer towards you. “He’s not wrong, you know, stupid fucking soulmates are just this irrational solution to an irrational problem. Love is much more complex than that, and you don’t seem to have been fighting for him in that way either, sure you seem like good friends, but that doesn’t give you the right to expect him to love you. But he was a complete fucking dick about it, so I say kill him.”

Your — and all of the rest of your friend group — eyes widened at his words. With nothing to follow him up, you all continued to stare at him while he munched on his food.

“WHAT ARE YOU FUCKING EXTRAS LOOKING AT!”

“Is Bakugou a love expert?” Mina’s stage whispered to the group.

“He almost was, but then he said to kill y/n’s soulmate, so probably not anymore,” Kirishima responded back.

“SHUT THE HELL UP BEFORE I KILL YOU!”

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

It took four days before the warm feeling shot through your body again.

Fuck, I'm really sorry, I was a complete fucking dick. I said a lot of things, and i didn’t mean to say I was angry and upset, and I know that you're upset, rightfully upset, but i don’t want to lose you.

No matter how long it took for him to get back to you, your heart squeezed with euphoria and poison, your hands moving to grab your pen in your pocket.

It wasn’t there.

Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. Oh no.

You tore apart your room, trying to find the silver pen but you couldn’t find it.

Stay as mad as you want, I just… please talk with me soon, even if it takes five days. I'm sorry, soulmate.

Frustrated tears poured down your face, nausea almost making you wheeze when you stared at the words you wanted to reply to.

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

One day after he apologized:

Don’t want to bother you, just wanted to apologize again and say that I miss you, talk to you soon.

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

Five days after he apologized:

I’m not really sure if this is normal or not… I'm not really… educated when it comes to romance and shit like that, especially when it comes to someone being upset with the other… my female classmates told me that I should expect a response from you soon. I'm really sorry, please write soon.

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

So it seems that i’ve fucked up to the point of no return. I'm sorry, I miss you, I love you. Maybe one day I can reconvince you that I'm your soulmate for a good reason, but I guess I’ll have to work on that.

It had been fourteen days since he had apologized, and you sat in your room with tears streaming down your face. You wanted to respond back, but even fourteen days of tirelessly searching U.A.’s entire campus, ripping it stone by stone, there was no finding your pen. Every day without fail, he gave you an update of his day and another apology. Every day they got more hopeless, more pained.

This was his last message for a while, he needed time to work things out with himself now, the strain of this and graduation coming soon being too much to handle at the moment.

Wiping your tears for what felt like the hundredth time within this past twenty minutes, you stood up on your wobbly legs to go downstairs for water. You were dehydrated and absolutely needed to get out for both fresh air and water.

Walking down the stairwell with swollen eyes, you groaned when you slammed into a body when you opened the door to the common area.

Shouto blinked down at you, and you felt your throat clampdown at the pained look in his own eyes.

“Have you been—”

“Are you—”

You both spoke over each other, and despite the horrid feeling coursing through your bones, you cracked a smile.

“I’m getting water,” you explained with a shrug. “Long night ya know, just needed to replenish my system so I can cry some more.”

Shouto stared at you, and with horror, you realized precisely what you had said.

“Oh my god, ignore me!” you squeak, covering your face trying to move past him, but Shouto seemed to be curious now and followed after you.

“What’s making you cry?” he asked while you rush to the fridge to get your glass of water.

“What’s got you upset?” you counter downing the cup of water.

Shouto sighed, leaning against the counter of the island in the kitchen. “Would it be weird to say its soulmate issues?”

Swallowing the water in your mouth, you shook your head, a tired smile on your face, “Embarrassingly enough, my issue is also with soulmate stuff.”

A joyless chuckle escaped his mouth, and Shouto’s head tilted backward. You studied his jaw and the way his body seemed tense, too tense.

“What happened?” you press gently standing next to him, shouldering him gently.

“I fucked up, and now my soulmate won’t talk with me,” he says slowly, his head nodding while he glances at you. “I guess telling your soulmate you don’t want them is a bad thing.”

You snorted, nodding your head in agreement, “It’s not just a bad thing, its a super fucked up thing.”

Shouto sighed in agreement, and there was silence when you took another drink of your water.

“I didn’t know you were in contact with your soulmate, though,” you smile wistfully, your hand twirling the cup on the counter. “How’d you meet them?”

“I actually don’t know who they are,” Shouto admitted with pursed lips, and your eyebrows scrunched in confusion. “I have that soulmate thing where you write on your arm, and they can read it.”

Showing off his arm, you glanced at the pale skin. You nodded your head when he pulled out a silver pen that looked similar to yours.

“Well,” you shrug your shoulders, motioning him to write. “I’m no expert, but let’s see if I can help you get your soulmate to forgive you.”

“T-They haven’t responded to me in two weeks…” Shouto’s voice cracks, and the number burns a hole through your stomach. “I’ve written every day, but no answer. I don’t really know what to do, and all the girls in the class don’t really know what to do. Bakugou also said to go fuck myself over it, so I don’t think I really have had any help.”

Ignoring the twisting in your stomach, you willed your weirdness away to shuffle in your seat, “Well, you haven’t asked me, asshole, come on, let’s see what I can do.”

Shouto chuckles, his head nodding, “That is true, but to be fair, you’ve been anywhere, but in the dorm these past few weeks.”

“I lost something,” you mutter embarrassed, but you shake away your problems and point at his wrist. “Write an apology.”

You watched when he wrote, the words expressing his apology and love seeping through the silvery ink on his wrist. You told him to add things to delete things, but in the end, it ended up feeling like a genuine and sincere apology. You watched his pen leave his skin and a warmth shot through your arm.

Shivering, you looked at your arm, trying to see what your soulmate had written to you even though he said he was going to stop.

The words he wrote appeared on your skin.

Your eyes widened when you stared at Shouto, who was also staring at your arm.

Your eyes met in an almost world-altering way. This entire time, for three whole years, the two of you had been by each other and never knew. Midnight conversations wasted through ink instead of face to face. Your heart hammered in your throat, and tears once again poured from your eyes when you both stood at full height, staring at each other.

Todoroki Shouto was your soulmate — he was yours, and you were his.

“I’m so sorry, y/n, I don’t know what happened to me. You didn’t deserve that, and fuck, I’m so sorry—”

“I lost my pen, and I couldn’t respond back, I forgave you, but I had no way of reaching back! But I was always forcing myself onto you—”

You both interrupted the other, and now you stared at each other, drinking in the presence of each other and belittling yourselves for not knowing sooner; looking at it now, it was just so obvious. You can’t help it and pull him into a hug. His strong arms wrap around you, and you can hear his hammering heart on your ear, and it fills you up with the familiar warmth when he writes you. This seemed to be a brush of luck it seems.

“Can I kiss you, soulmate.”

“Please do.”

#todoroki shouto #todoroki shoto x reader #todoroki x reader #todoroki shouto x reader #todoroki fluff #bnha #bnha x reader #mha #mha x reader

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curious-menace · 4 years

Note

Hey can I get a headcanon of any riddler of your fancy finding his partners hidden treasure trove of sex toy goodies after stooping around their home, probably while they're out and how they'd react?

oh ho! any riddler?! this is a blank check for mayhem!

i have naughty hands and no self control so ima do all my riddlers hahahah

this is only a lil ns fw so no below the cut this time

Arkham riddler

oh.

OH.

First response is he goes BRIGHT RED. H-He was looking for something else, like an allen key or a pack of batteries or something! He didn't mean to snoop! He’ll throw all the toys back in the drawer or box and hurry away like nothing happened. he did find batteries but was to embarrassed to use them.

his face is going to be bright red for hours, you’ll easily be able to tell something is up but he wont tell you what.

but that being said, hes not going to be able to stop thinking about them. he feels a little naughty for doing it but hes imagining you using them, on him, on yourself. the idea is filthy to him but very intriguing.

Don't expect him to EVER mention it again but if YOU brought up the idea or told him you had some toys to play with, he’d have a hard time hiding his excitement. He hasn't stopped thinking about them since and he has some IDEAS.

Blacklight Riddler

oh ho! rubbing his little fingerless gloved hands in glee. treasure trove is the right word to use, all his christmases have come at once when he finds this gold mine.

He knew you were kinky but he had no idea you were THIS kinky, why would you keep this from him???

hes like a child in a candy store. what does this one do??? ohh this one vibrates! ooh a purple and green one, did you get this specially for him?

Don't be surprised if you come home and find him elbow deep in your drawer or box still rummaging and exploring, possibly with condoms scattered around him like confetti and bondage rope around his neck like a scarf.

He’s going to ask right away to play with some of these. he might even sneak off to use them by himself but he will GLADLY let you do the hard work.

He’s going to want to go to the sex toy shop with you. can you get some couples toys? will you peg him?? OH! what about some of those cool remote control toys??? he can make some custom ones for you both to use if you want! Man is going to be bouncing off the walls, you're going to need to get him to calm down before you can do anything. he’s enthusiastic to say the least.

BTAS Riddler

oh? what on earth is th-AGH! *flings a wobbly pink dick across the room in a panic*. Que overdramatics . lots of “my eyes are SOILED! MY HANDS WILL NEVER BE CLEAN AGAIN!”

Will probably screech “WHY DO YOU EVEN HAVE THIS?!” into an empty house.

i think its the shock more than anything. he’s a germaphobe and he wasn't wearing his gloves while he was rummaging and he wasn't expecting to touch something so...intimate with his bare hands. this has ABSOLUTELY been inside you and it feels...off for him to touch it. He hopes to god you are as particular about cleaning these as you are about the rest of your cleaning.

once the initial fright wears off, he probably feels a bit guilty for nosing about. He wasn't looking for your intimates specifically, he was just being inquisitive, maybe looking for birthday or christmas presents. I think like arkham riddler, he’d probably be unable to get the image out of his head. he'd probably have to go back for another look.

he has to work up the courage to talk about it. he’s probably expecting to get yelled at, he shouldn't have been rummaging through your things in the first place.he doesn't REALLY need to confront you about this. but he’s insecure as all hell and he needs to know, is he not good enough? is he not satisfying you? why do you need these toys if you have him? please be gentle in explaining, whatever your answer is.

Original riddler

so freaking blase about the whole thing. you could leave them in the fridge or something and he’d be like “hmm, cheese, ham, dildo....hey y/n we’re nearly out of milk!”

he doesn't exactly want dicks or fleshlights left out around his apartment but he’s not so insecure about you having them. he knows he cant be there for you 24/7. maybe your schedules are conflicting, maybe you just want some quite alone time, he’s not judging, he does it too.

might tease you a little about your taste in toys. like if you have massive dicks he’s going to call you a size queen, regardless of your gender. or if you like weird ones like that windmill oral thing he’s going to call you a kinky lil freak .

i don't think he has any of his own but he’d be quite happy to use yours on you if you wanted.

unlike the others, he probably respects your privacy enough to not go looking for them or even rummaging through your things. but he is childish as all hell. if you left them out in a shared space he’s going to mess around with them, like pretending to give you a neck massage only to bust out a hitachi wand or something.

despite his bravado and not really minding that you have them, his mouth will go a little dry if you bring up the idea of domming him by using them on him . that's....an intriguing idea.

Telltale riddler

well. hes not THRILLED about this discovery. But given how often he’s gone, either for work or running from the law, he cant exactly blame you. you have needs he’s clearly not meeting.

he’s pretty tempted to take your batteries away from you for badness.

he gets a devious idea looking at your toys. He’s offended! how could you replace him with plastic and silicone?! he’s much better than any toy. guess he’ll just have to prove it to you.

he’ll probably confront you as soon as you get home. something like “been keeping secrets from me?” but like. in a sexy voice, not an angry one.

He’s obviously a little ticked off but tries to keep it playful. you can definitely expect him to spend the day making it up to you. he’s going to tease you, hes going to ask if you think of him while you use them , maybe even use some of them on you himself but pulling away at the last moment as punishment . if you want relief you’ll have to ask him nicely.

he’d be absolutely speechless if you flipped the script on him. listen he might be 60 but suddenly he’s a teenager again, embarrassed and unable to form coherent sentences in the face of your exuberant confidence. once he gets his footing back however you two are going to be playing hella games. he’s going to want to sext while he’s gone, send you naughty photos and get some back. maybe the toys aren't such a bad thing after all?

Zero year riddler

you’ll for sure know if this riddler has found your stash. you’ll come home and he’ll be drinking out of a dick shaped straw, wearing those dumb penis glasses you see at bachelorette parties. he’ll have decorated with rope or feather boas , taken polaroid photos of him posing with your toys and stuck them to the walls. he’ll have a smug look on his face but play totally innocent like “something you wanna tell me, y/n?” Shame is not an emotion this riddler is capable of.

he was looking through your things on purpose because he’s a nosy shit. He likes knowing your secrets to mess with you later. He wished he had a camera to record his reaction upon finding THIS secret.sheer unfiltered joy .He’s for sure recording your reaction to him putting you on blast so you two can laugh about it later.

he might feel a LITTLE guilty depending on your reaction. if you react badly or really embarrassed he might feel bad for crossing a line and apologise . He’s still a little shit about it but he’s an apologetic little shit.

all of these riddlers pretend they're the most confident person in the room but , like the others, if you turn your charm and confidence on him, he’ll crumble like a dry sandcastle.

He doesn't want to admit he has NO clue what any of these toys do. like why is this one shaped like an egg?...it goes WHERE?!

rare moment of nervousness from him if you ask him to use them on you/ on him. again, he doesn't know what the heck he’s doing with toys but he’ll be damned if he admits that. feel free to mess with him as payback. this is what he gets for running his mouth and poking his nose into other peoples business

there you go nonnie! i actually got this one out pretty quickly, i wasnt expecting to do it that fast hah. i like doing asks like this, that are a little nsfw but not so much i have to hide them under a read more.

that being said, full nsfw asks are my jam XD

Got something you wana ask me? feel free to send me an ask or a dm! im always game to talk about our favorite curious menace 💚💜

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tomdiddlyumptious · 4 years

Text

A.R| Just Cry Already

Summary: oop

Warnings: language, DEPRESSION KINDA, uhh idk

A/n: YALLLLLL LOOK AT WHAT I FOUND HIDING IN MY DRAFTSSSSSSSS....is it coming backkk👀??

Chapters -> one ✨ two 🤠 three ✨ four 🤠 five ✨ six

As lenoras stomach grew little by little she got depressed- it was clear as day. Wondering about what preston said. A slut.

Arvin would kill him without any hesitation if he knew what was happening but he was also right behind her, depressed. He didnt even wanna get up for his grandmothers cooking- just thoughts of you made him grow crazy- your back,smile, anything. He needed it now.

He was scared he was gonna be one of those people how jerked off while crying because he felt so loney- but it wasnt his fault (ben harmon🤡). His dad died after all- so did his mom- his dog. Whatever he got close to he was attached.

He gave his heart to you and told you everything- and you accepted it with all your heart and mind. Now you think hes a freak and sees him how everyone else does- at least that what he thought. He didnt want to be so vulnerable but it was to late.

You? You were in your shit- he didnt matter at all. As long as he wasnt seen your birthday suit and rammed his shrimp (as you call it) into you, your fine.

You bought albums and just danced with your family around- the whites of course calling you ‘nigger’ and stuff like that, but it was usual.

You noticed something, when you change everything changed- dad seemed happier a little bit- your mom the same of course. And of course cloudy- he was different from you and your whole family-

You sat there your legs crossed as cloudy bit his lip fiddling with his fingers, you stopped him and of course hit him with the card- “speak up boy, i dont have all day”

“Im gay” he whispers, tears filling his eyes. You sighed as you shook your head.

“Im proud of you of course for telling me but- they call us niggers- can you imagine what theyd call you now? What about dad?” You said making him open his eyes more.

How he found out? In high school of course. The way the boy looked at him so differently- he was a virgin of course and never touched himself but when he got home and slept at night- that white boy just kept popping up in his head.

“I-i know” he sighs, tears slipping from his eyes as he looked down, you only giggled at him as he looked up at you with confusion.

“We both like white boys eh?” You smile and get up, sitting next to him and giving him a tight hug and a kiss on the temple and you rubbed his shoulder.

“I love you, cloudy. God this week has been so stressful” you sigh and wipe his tears smiling at him, he smiles as he reminds you about last week also making you roll your eyes.

“I love you too, thank you so much for being here” he only smiles more and wraps you in a tight hug “hey im your sister right?”.

“Excuse me can you leave?” A white lady asks, interrupting the moment. You groan as you look at her.

“Why?” You say, her eyes flatting with hate.

“Because your a black whore- and we dont take those here” “and your a middle aged slut who has no business being in mine, but ill leave because i want to- have a problem hit me first so i can take care of it” you warn her, flashing a smile as cloudy wipes his nose.

She sutters as she tells you to hurry up, please.

“Lenora are you alright?” He asked, lenoras eyes heavy as she layed in bed. He moved her hair to the side as she looked up at him and nodded.

“Just a bit under the blue.... do you wanna talk?” She asks, he only nods as she backs up a bit for him to sit down “you go first” lenora says raspy from laying down to much.

“Its about y/n” he sighs, lenora letting out a damaged giggle as she told him to continue.

“She got something in my head and i cant stop thinking about it- and we only started dating so i think i messed it up...” he groans and puts his face in his palms.

“What did she say?” She asked, arvin only shaking his head not wanting to say- not ready for an answer yet. “Not right now” he only said, lenora shrugs as she sits up to rub his back “well i dont now why im feeling this way either” she lies.

Lenora doesnt want to bother arvin with her problems, he seemed to stressed out already- if only he knew though...

TAGGIE!

@jeyramarie @charmed-asylum

#tom holland x reader #tom holland #tom holland fanfic #tom holland x black!reader #tom holland imagine #arvin russel x black!reader #arvin russel x reader #arvin russel x y/n

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theunconcernedembalmer · 3 years

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ok i got the aesvic out of my system now time to pick apart the letter n why i wont really be following aesops diary exactly here. literally no one asked but i wanted to get my thoughts down somewhere cos i have. a lot

just gonna put a quick rundown of aesops diary entry as a refresher (mostly for myself so i dont miss anything): he dreamt that he was helping jerry with what was probably a murder n was affirmed n he thinks its a sign congratulating him on carrying out his duty. over the years, he carries out his duties as an undertaker n comes to the manor looking for a “fresh start” aka what sounds like his first victim. according to aesop, said victim should be quiet, n potential victim number 1 is victor. something about badly needing him to become his “silent friend” n he mentions he’ll get to wick n the 2 other survivors in due time, but for now he’s very eager to start his “mission”.

im generally okay with the letter (i have seen so many fights over this aha) cos there is no surprise he wants to kill ppl (ppl who r fighting over this point. did u even read his deductions?? guy happily killed his mentor??). but i didnt quite like the fact that he still looks up to jerry (although. i guess thats valid i just. dont like it). i was also initially kind of confused about the real reason why he would want to kill ppl since as u progress through the letter it sounds less like he kills for duty (cos of the whole dream thing at the start) but more “because i want to :)”, which is an okayish edgy kinda take imo. like not that u cant characterize aesop as Kill Kill Murder Die, but i kinda find that. pretty boring in the long term.

im just gonna put what my original take on aesop was, like all of it. first off, he hates jerry. u cannot tell me a psychotic serial killer like that can raise a child without emotional trauma. like any child, this isnt even counting the extra damage done because hes autistic. (n i also hc that aesop has read his moms letter to him at some point, n he should have come to the conclusion that it was somewhat also jerrys fault, whether through logic or denial that his mom would want to leave him, so that just adds to it.) but as much as he hates him, his teachings are the only ones hes been exposed to, n its been so ingrained in him since young so even if he hates jerry he would still subscribe to whatever twisted ideology jerry was feeding him, which ill get to in a sec.

going through his accessories, he has that origami that he folds for each of his clients, n it shows that underneath it all, aesop is still kind. this isnt expected of him n its definitely not part of his job scope as an embalmer. he (still?) has the heart to wish the best for those that have departed n takes the time n effort to fold one for each n every client he sends off, which is probably a lot. so going off on that, my hc is that jerry, being the manipulative asshole that he is (who probably definitely manipulated his mom into indirect suicide) probably used his kindness against him to make him believe that by murdering ppl he is helping them, framing all of his serial kills as a sort of mercy kill (like his mom). so the thing that aesop takes away from all this is the very twisted logic that by killing ppl he is helping them, therefore being a good embalmer and a good person in general. n everyone wants to be a sort of good person, or at least for aesop that is part of his job description to be a good embalmer. n we all know aesop is very serious about his job.

i also hc that he has killed several ppl between killing jerry n coming to the manor, cos i follow the story that he took the invitation from that poor lady n thats how he ended up at the manor. surely the lady didnt come to him right after jerry died?? but anyway, the way i see it is that he thought he liked to kill. like he finally truly understood why jerry kills so much (which is interesting now that i think about it. guy really just went along with all those murders without truly believing huh), because it felt good to kill. at least thats what he thought, the revelation that killing felt good n is good, but i say its because he hated jerry, n offing someone u kinda hate should probably feel pretty gucci. n its also so much easier to pick clients off the streets than in the manor, so i would think that he has killed ppl like his mentor did, but each time he did the great feeling that came with ending ppls life just. wasnt as good as the first time round. it just became a sort of normal satisfaction of a successful embalming.

this can go two ways: 1. he keeps on killing to try to find that great feeling again, which is cool i guess (n probably what canon would want, except canon states that he hasnt killed since jerry), but id like to go with 2. he just stops because jerry isnt around to enforce it whenever he isnt feeling up to psychoing someone to their death (which is probably how jerry got his victims, n damn if that doesnt take a lot of mind games that i dont think aesop has the mental capacity for since half of it is fighting with his social anxiety n other issues. dealing with alive strangers?? no thanks?? i doubt he would have learnt properly how to lure in clients as efficiently as jerry because of this, mostly cos he was only needed for the murder afterparty aka embalming n funerals). n as much as he stays professional, there is no. professional way of gaslighting someone to their death.

(n also since ppl have pointed out that his twitter replies n other kinda informal stuff have shown that aesop does have reverent respect for life, which also adds to him not being so blindly bloodthirsty as implied in the letter. i dont really see the twitter replies as very canon, but it does make sense that he would come to revere life with his unique take and obsession over death, for one cannot exist without the other)

so this leads me to the motive that aesop brings to the manor, at least how i see it. he isnt exactly coming to the manor to kill per se (like from the very early story, he came to the manor to return the letter to a relative of the deceased lady, something about respecting her last wishes. something like that, its really been a while since i saw that exerpt), so like killing ppl isnt his main purpose of visit. its more of hes always on the lookout for weaker (or at least those that take less mind games to kill) people to mercy kill, n it just so happens that he knows the manor n his mentor almost died from there, so theres a pretty good chance he can find some ppl that fall into this category n so it just so happens that he also has a job to do there. its still counted as a Job for him since no ones gonna tell him that embalmers dont actually. murder.

so in my version, aesop only tries to sway ppl that he knows he can convince, n these ppl would typically be those very sickly ones like his mom (andrew im looking at u) or those with an actual death wish/ very weak will to live. but here aesop is choosing his “first victim”, and the criteria for that is... quiet? never mind “not evading him” and “not cranky” being on the list too, but that isnt quite what i was expecting from someone so dedicated to their duty of murder. sure he wants an easy first kill, but like. i dont think its consistent if his motive was really to continue jerrys bastard legacy. especially when the next paragraph is essentially him gushing over victor, that... sort of implies something else. or at least in the way i see it, since i believe that canon wants us to think that aesop just really loves to kill.

aesop likes victor. very much so. so much till he wants to kill him. which i guess makes sense cos he likes death, n now he likes victor. so he just. puts the two things he likes together. whats better than victor? dead victor. anyway the rest of the letter is more like “whatever, i technically should kill the others too but my priority is victor” so like. he confuses his (dare i say) yandere tendencies with his duty since the end goal for both is a body in a coffin.

having said that. i know i have aesvic brainrot but i also know this is one sided as hell (at least from the letter alone, not counting the letter shaped cookies in his birthday art that apparently belonged to victors birthday cake aha) n lowkey alarming since. the goal is to kill victor. i kinda want to interpret it as him genuinely wanting to be friends with victor (really wanting him to be a “silent friend”, maybe cos he doesnt actually know how to be friends with living ppl n is better with dead ones? therefore victor should be dead to be friends?) but not knowing how to n throwing in his obsession with death ends up with. this minor disaster waiting to happen. but i uh. dont know if this is valid. its valid to me at least, with my original interpretation of aesop. n again cos of his ingrained professionalism, he also kinda sees this as part of his job to send ppl off, so its another plus. not for victor, tho.

idk if ill add this yandere side in my aesop. i mean my boi has technically tried to kill victor multiple times in the past HAHAHAHA. maybe like sometimes he can be a bit obsessive. as a treat. but generally nah cos thats definitely gonna end up in a murder somewhere somehow n i cant. just kill victors here on the ask blog scene lashjflkjhdlfkjhas

so yeah that kinda takes care of the last part of the letter, as for the first part. as much as aesop hates jerry, i would also think hes pretty starved for affirmation (like i said jerry isnt going to be a good parent figure ever) n i guess it makes sense if the only times jerry has ever complimented him was aiding him in his kills n hiding the evidence, which might (?) add to his desire to kill (but that probably dies with jerry aha). so the way i see it as aesop is getting affirmation n takes it as a good sign instead of. remotely liking jerry. idk if im stretching it a little but i really dont like the take where hes okay with jerry. anyway we are ignoring that he hasnt killed before entering the manor cos that doesnt quite make sense to me (i wasnt dreaming about the letter from a lady stabbed in the face 36 times or so right???? right???????)

im also not like. trying to defend him, im just trying to make sense of his diary. boi has issues n is a little too far gone (not as far as canon tho), in my take very deluded in his way of showing kindness. literally cool motive still murder (or in canon, just murder?), please get therapy. but i just dont really like the direction that the letter was originally trying to imply, with him really just hell bent on murder without like. a clear motive (at least to me it isnt very clear since the last part really doesnt sound consistent with his supposed intentions). i mean i love being edgy with aesop every now n then but i dont think it would make for meaningful characterizations in the long run so. ill still be sticking with my original take on aesop with maybe a bit of yandere for victor cos thats always fun

#unconcerned ramblings #mun rambles #its me the mun #im so sorry i talk so much. i was like Okay i should stop talking on my blog now. n then i didnt #i dont even know if this makes sense im still sleep deprived n tired as hell but i literally cant sleep cos this was bothering me so much #also cos i see a lot of ppl like. just nope the letter n somehow began to hate aesop after loving him as a character for so long. which is #interesting. cos this letter isnt exactly out of the blue. we been knew #just a few minor things that i disagree with. but generally i think it was an okay letter

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hongism · 4 years

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touch of the devil - k.hongjoong 18+

↣ pairing: hongjoong x fem!reader | ao3 version (mxm seongjoong) ↣ genre: angst, fluff if you SQUINT, nsfw, fantasy, supernatural, demon!hongjoong, emo rocker!hongjoong, there do be plot tho. ↣ wc: 9.0k ↣ summary: you came to make a deal with a devil sure, but this is the last thing you were expecting out of a night in a dingy bar. ↣ warnings: explicit smut, mention of death, demons, it’s actually really heavy on plot and angst and less focused on the smut ↣ a/n: again i know it’s my birthday but this is my present to you guys, i am a person who prefers to give rather than receive on my birthday and this was the first thing i wanted to work on during my hiatus!! i’ve got so much inspo and motivation rn that it’s crazy and i can’t wait to have everything all set out for you guys when im back :3

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Everything about the air around you is heady and thick in a way that chokes you as you step through the fogged bar. This isn’t your sort of scene – not one you would typically find yourself frequenting on a Friday evening without even so much as the company of a friend – and yet here you stand with hands pressed into the pockets of your black leather jacket. There remains a dull thrum in the atmosphere of the club, a steady rhythm of bass and vibrations that makes your ears ring but you do your best to ignore it in favor of reaching the bartender.

“Just a rum and coke please,” you murmur, hand sneaking out of your pocket to lay a few bills flat against the wood counter. You tug your ID card out as well and flash it in the man’s direction when he raises an eyebrow at you, but upon seeing it, he relents and steps away from you to get the drink.

The question remains of why exactly you are in such a dismal and hopeless scene full of people too drunk off their rockers to even fumble around the bar with some sense of dignity. You, who is neither dismal or hopeless yourself nor are you drunk in the slightest (at least not yet).

The answer is simple. This is a breeding ground, a festering cesspool of desires and greed, and it is the prime place to find what you are looking for in terms of deals with the devil. Maybe not one specific devil, but certainly whatever demon you can get your hands on tonight. And you have quite the lot to choose from it seems, because as you glance around the neon-lit building, you can spot many pairs of red eyes glinting under the lights. You know you have no right to be picky — any and all of them will get the job done — but you can’t help but to note that none of them are as appealing as you imagined they would be. When your friend said that these demons thrived off of lust and appeal, you figured that meant they would purposefully up the ante in terms of physical appearances.

The disdain must show on your features as the bartender begins to speak again as he sets your drink down before you on the counter.

“None of them are for you,” he utters, and you twist back to look him in the eye.

“What do you mean?” You inquire, chin tilting to the side in question, and the man huffs out a small laugh.

“They have their prey already. Picked ‘em the second they walked through the door. All it takes is one look to figure out what these needy people crave from them, what appearances they need to take, what voices to use, what outfits to wear. For people like you, though, something more is required before the real games begin.” He points a single bony finger at your face, staring you down over the length of his digit like it’s the barrel of a gun, and that has you shifting in your seat a bit.

“Something… more?”

“One must have a particular level of certainty before coming to make a deal with a demon, ma’am. But you — you don’t seem to truly know what it is you want. And for that reason, the King will see you with no ruses or deception.”

On the contrary, I wouldn’t have dared set foot in here if I didn’t know what it is I wanted, you want to say. However, your attention is held rapt by his final sentence, the one that held unspoken promise to it.

“And by that you mean physical alterations?”

“You catch on quickly, Miss.” The man leans forward, tongue darting out to swipe over his lower lip, and you glance over the motion only once before pushing away from the counter. He notes the slight annoyance in your features a moment later. “The King will like you quite a bit.”

“When can I expect for this ‘King’ to present himself?” You prop an elbow up on the counter and give one last forlorn glance around the bar in the hopes that someone will come over your way, but it’s to no avail.

“Patience, human. The show hasn’t even begun yet.” He motions towards the middle of the bar, the starkly empty space with a glossy stage set in the center with only a microphone held delicately in its stand and nothing else. You had been hoping to make this a speedy trip — a quick in and out with your deal made and nothing else — but it seems you won’t be having that luxury. And it is a bit frustrating, honestly, to come to this place with the expectation of having a demon cater to you and your wants only to be told that you aren’t certain enough for these supernatural beings, so you’ll have to wait on a demon who won’t cater to you or come to you immediately.

You take a quick swig of your alcohol with the desperate hope that perhaps drinking will make you more certain of what you want, although you already know it won’t. The bartender offers a shrug in response to your annoyance then pulls away to tend to other customers, and you take it as an invitation to swivel in your stool and face the stage. It’s still fucking empty, but at least it gives you a better view than the old wood of the counter that now sits under your elbows.

“Leave it to men to make me wait on them, demon or not,” you mutter under your breath, breath fogging the side of your glass a bit.

You nearly choke on the liquid inside in your next breath because the swirling red neon lights come to a halt on the center of the stage, and the suddenness of the shifting lights startles you so much that you have to sit up straight and inhale deeply to keep from coughing on the alcohol in your mouth. The hazed mist hovering above the floor of the bar seems to swirl towards the stage under the beams of light. You watch the movements as though in a trance, slowly leaning forward until your elbows come to rest on your knees. Out of everyone in the bar, you seem to be the only one interested in what’s going on at the center of the room. Mind you, everyone else is preoccupied: demons with their humans, and humans with the mask-wearing demons who cater to their desires. And while you have no reason to be so intrigued by the scene before you, you truly cannot bring yourself to look away, especially as the dull thrum of music in the bar heightens and gains momentum.

There is no way of describing the sounds rumbling around you. Perhaps if you were fully in your senses, you would be able to distinguish the instruments and beats of the song, but the bass clogs your mind and leaves you squinting at the hazy stage. It could be poetic, the way a lone figure pushes his way through the crowds of the bar like he holds all the power in the universe, studded black leather jacket slung around his shoulders. And as the red lights come over him, you can see his features better. Dusty brown hair that shines a bit, one side exposed and cut shorter than the other, which has bangs that hang loose over the side of his face. Metal bars line both ears, another near the end of his left brow, and a final more intricate one that loops around the middle of his lip and connects to two long metal chains. You follow the path of those chains with your eyes, watching them trail downwards until they loop around his chest and disappear behind his jacket. It’s just a black turtleneck that he wears underneath the dramatic leather regalia and chains but somehow he makes the garment look expensive. You dare glance a bit lower, just enough to make out the frayed and distressed jeans that cling to his skin like a vice, leaving hints of enticing skin underneath to peek through. You can’t see his feet thanks to the fog, but you can practically hear his footsteps drumming in your ears with the rise and fall of his shoes.

Simply put, you are entranced by the sight of this man — if he can even be called that, because you wouldn’t find yourself at all surprised should he reveal himself to be a demon on the tail end of this encounter. He barely looks up from the floor on his trek to the stage, only stopping when he comes before the mic stand and exhales against it in a way that sends shivers down your spine. It’s hardly reasonable for any creature to hold your attention in the palm of his hand the way this one does, but there is no chance of you looking away now, especially as his voice begins to drawl through the microphone and coat your ears like honey. There are words, you recognize enough in the music to know that it should be a song you’re familiar with, but none of them truly process in your daze.

It’s all you can do to just sit there and watch his performance. Between the gentle sways of his shoulders and hips, the teasing drag of his tongue over his lower lip whenever there is a break in his lyrics, and the overall intoxicating nature his aura exudes, you are hooked on every breath he takes. You don’t realize how relaxed your body has become under his spell until it’s too late, and that happens to be the last note of the song as well. It is accentuated with the drop of the glass in your hand and a sharp shatter of the cup against the floor. And just as you inhale a startled gasp and break out of your reverie, his deep crimson eyes flicker over to find yours across the bar. Those twisting lips churn something ugly in your gut. You can’t find the strength in your body to move.

“Mine.”

Your heart leaps in your chest as the word leaves his lips, and while you can’t hear it grate against your ears, you can clearly read his lips enough to know what he’s saying.

His eyes glint a bit in the darkness. It shouldn’t leave you wanting more, but that bitter taste of curiosity is nipping at the back of your throat, and you are far too intrigued to turn back now. You just want more. If he seems to understand that at all from the gleam in your eyes, he makes good on it, stepping off the stage and letting his hand drag over the mic in a way that is almost tantalizing. Step after step, he comes closer to you with his lips still curled into a smirk, and the way the lights hit him makes him seem to glisten and glow in the darkness. You don’t realize you’ve been holding your breath until he breaches your personal space and you release a shaky exhale that seems to fog in the air between you. He stretches a hand out to close the space between your bodies and curls his index finger under your chin. The touch is simultaneously hot and cold — your whole body seems to light on fire under it, yet at the same time, the chill in your bones deepens to an alarming degree.

“What is it you desire above all other things?” You can hear him now, loud and clear, and whilst you heard his singing beforehand, the simple rasp and lilt to his regular tone is something that has you unashamedly weak in the knees. “I can give you everything,” he whispers as he presses closer to you. Your knees brush against his form but he keeps on pushing forward until he’s slotted himself between them. The chain hanging from his lips rattles like a chime, singing its unknown song like church bells in the night, although you are far from God and heaven now. “All you need to do is ask.”

You cling to some semblance of reason while you can, knowing full well that it will all leave you soon enough, but for now, it lets you choke out a single statement that has the demon before you laughing under his breath.

“That’s not how it works.”

“And who are you to tell me how it works?” His finger curls a bit harder at your chin, and you can feel the blunt of his nail scraping over your skin. Your eyes are glued to his, so enamored and consumed that you can’t even think to look anywhere else.

In that moment, it is as though the universe is nothing but a speck of dust in the corner of your vision. Something so raw and whole like the man standing before you is all-powerful and vigilant in a way that has every nerve in your body at full attention, ready for whatever his next step might be. And that turns out to be quite the curveball as it seems because he leans closer to you, breath intermingling with yours, and you subconsciously curve your back into his touch to reach him closer. Still, even though you physically show how ready and desperate for the touch you are, he waits and glances over your features.

“What is it you desire from me, human?”

You have to vehemently restrain yourself from simply saying ‘you’ and getting on with it.

“Your name.”

“Is that all you would have from me?” As a demon, it is his life’s work to know the inner-workings of the festering desires of humans. You have no doubt in your mind that he knows exactly what is it you want, even if you are not sure of it yourself, and you do not doubt that he won’t use that to his advantage either. But that’s what you asked for in coming here, and that is exactly what you both expected and wanted out of this.

Perhaps it is shameful, but just for once, you wanted to surrender control. Too often are you asked to have everything set out and planned and under control, and too often do you find yourself wanting someone to just tell you what it is you should do. That could be why the bartender labeled you as ‘uncertain’ because even in this moment of vulnerability, there is still the thinnest thread of thought tethering you to that control. And as of now, you want nothing more than for this demon before you to break that thread.

“I would have your name before I asked for anything else from you. Calling you demon over and over would certainly wear out its welcome, no?”

“That all depends on the context, my dear. But… you can call me Hongjoong, if that’s suitable to your tongue.”

“Hongjoong,” you try, testing the way the name rolls off your tongue in such a delicate manner that the demon before you flutters his lashes a bit.

“Sounds so pretty coming from lips so innocent.” He tilts his head to the side, and the movement flashes the pretty expanse of skin below his jaw. You aren’t shy in the way you let your gaze slip over it before trailing back up to meet his eyes again. “Would you close your eyes for me, doll?” He doesn’t have to ask. He could just make you do so with no resistance but still, he asks as though you could say no if you wanted to. You don’t though, and as such, your eyelids fall shut and your vision turns to black for the time being. “Do you know who I am?”

“Th-The bartender called you the King.”

“And do you understand what that means? Truly understand with every fiber of your being?” The question is heavy on your bones, and it is one that you feel like you should know the answer to yet you can’t find any response to his inquiry. Perhaps he means to confuse you because you hear the soft huff of a laugh fall from his lips. “King of the Underworld, Lord of the Dead. Some would call me Pluto, others Hades, it varies from religion to religion and in every culture. Sometimes I pick up rather banal and common names, other times I find myself seeking something extravagant and luxurious. Now… Hongjoong will be a good middle-ground for us.”

You should be falling to the floor in absolute shock due to his words, but the steady finger under your chin keeps you steady. That and the growing fear in your gut as you come to realize that this man holds so much power in just his pinky finger and could absolutely crush you under his heel whenever he wishes. What are you to a god besides an insignificant fleck of dust on the pavement?

“And what of your appearance? Is that… manifested as well?” You dare to ask.

“I have many faces, yes, but this one is one I wear boldly and frequently. You could say it is my natural form. After so many millennia of fantastical myths and legends, however, I’m sure that would seem odd to you.”

“Are you truly a demon then?”

“King of demons, yes. Whether I am truly a demon myself is something that could be ambiguous, I suppose, but if they are all part of my creations, then would that not make me one myself? Though you could say they are all fragments of my own being, making them all mythical gods. It’s all a matter of perspective; however, I doubt that you came searching this place for a lesson on perspectives.”

“No, I came for…” You trail off, and that blossoming uncertainty from before presents itself again.

“There are two things your heart wants right now. One, I can give you with ease and grace, only if you would allow it. That desire is a fleeting one, however, and I do not think it is what you are truly after in being here. The second… that is a wish I cannot deliver, and I think you are more than aware of that. The reason everyone left you to me is because of what you want. It is a domain only I could ever touch.”

You blink your eyes open in haste, searching his deep crimson gaze for some sort of confirmation of the words. The demon dares to look forlorn and lets his stare drop to the floor rather than looking you directly in the eye. Confusion blossoms in your gut. Yes, you figured there was a slim chance that your wish could not be granted, but still you clung to the desperate hope that maybe there was just a small window of opportunity for such a wish to be granted.

“Death is irreversible,” the demon, Hongjoong as he wishes to be called, says in a quiet tone. “I cannot give that which you want more than anything else.”

“Then what can you give?” You ask, squeezing your eyes shut as tight as possible to keep your emotions from slipping out the corners.

“One of two things: I can give you time to speak with him once more or I can make you forget the pain.”

“And if I choose the latter?”

“It would make you forget everything about him and leave you with no memory of him at all.” Hongjoong exhales a small sigh, the bouncing rhythms of the bass rumbling against your ears along with the sounds of his breaths. “You need not decide right this instant. The payment will be the same either way, so we can settle that first if you’d like.”

“W-Wait,” you stammer. You dare to open your eyes once more. “How would I be able to speak to him if you can’t bring him back?”

“I cannot bring him back the way you want. He… he is gone, and though I am the King of the Dead, there are powers even I do not have. Bringing him back to life is impossible, but I can create a doorway for the two of you to speak through for a short period of time. I have no control over how long it would be, just a forewarning. That is all up to him and his willingness to see you.”

“I can’t imagine he wouldn’t want to see me,” you murmur, but the pang in your chest tells you otherwise.

“Sometimes, death and the underworld change fundamental parts of people. They are no longer alive, after all, and as such, those human vices and personality traits dissipate. How you knew him in life could be vastly different than the spirit who now resides in my domain. It is all a matter of weighing risks, my dear. What matters most to you? Remembering him or him remembering you?”

“So if I ask to see him, I would remember him but there’s a chance that he would have no recollection of me? And should I ask to forget, there will be no way of knowing whether he remembers me in the afterlife or not?”

“Precisely.”

That is a hefty bargain to weigh. It is almost too much for your shoulders just to think about it. One is starkly more selfish than the other, but if he’s dead, what good will selflessness do you? It won’t bring him back, that’s for sure. Either you are left with the painful realization that he does not have any memory of you in the afterlife, or you forget it all to avoid that pain. Maybe thinking about the payment before deciding would be a good idea after all.

“As for the payment? How many years do I owe you?” Demons have no use for human currency or trinkets that could be traded for favors. You can barter the only thing you have — years of life. Whether it shortens your lifespan or turns you into a personal slave for a certain amount of time, that is a price you must be willing to pay for such services. You are more than prepared to barter it all off right now if need be.

“None,” Hongjoong answers coolly, and you quirk a brow upwards at the nonchalance in his tone. “I do not deal in years of life. Not often, at least. My abilities are bound in… passion. Lovemaking, fornication, sex, fucking – whatever you wish to call it. Of course, it wouldn’t have to be that exactly, should you not desire that. The other option is a blood pact, a ritual that would take hours to complete, although both could take quite some time depending on your stamina.” There’s a breath of silence that allows Hongjoong’s lips to twist into a suggestive grin, and heat brushes the base of your neck as you fight off waves of embarrassment. “I cannot guarantee that the blood pact would be painless. With sex, I could at least provide some comfort that the pain would only be temporary; however, the choice is yours. Both are binding and would mean that you could never make a deal with another demon again, and you would be marked as mine for eternity.”

“What does being yours entail?”

“Nothing diabolical or unsavory, I promise. Just… when the time comes for you to pass on and join the Underworld, you would take a place at my side.”

“How many people have you laid claim to? Did they all agree to the same terms? How can I trust your word?” The questions tumble from your lips without relent.

“For what you desire, the cost is far less than what I would usually ask for. Those lucky enough to deal with me in the past paid less for their debts. The blood pact… the fornication… both are binding elements. The real cost is your service. Most have agreed to give me their servitude in the afterlife, all with their own places in my domain. That is what you would be offering as well. You will live just as long as you would without making this deal but make up for it after your death.”

“And that’s it?”

Hongjoong’s eyes twinkle a bit under the lights above your heads.

“What did you expect from me, doll? Savagery? Unfairness? Everyone deserves a fair price for what they want, regardless of station in life or status in society.”

“Deal,” you utter without any more hesitation, blinking up into Hongjoong’s dark orbs. There lies a lingering sense of regret in your gut, one that you cannot chase away no matter how hard you try, but you do not need to dwell on it any longer.

“And how would you like to bind our deal, my dear? Neither can be handled immediately. The blood pact requires special preparations for the ritual, but the other — I would not have you in such a place as dirty as this.”

“I-I, um, sex will work just fine,” you bite out, the skin of your cheek caught between your teeth.

“Then when the time comes that you are ready with your decision on what it is you truly want, all you need to do is take this—” Hongjoong retracts his hand from where it rests gently against the column of your throat and digs into one of his pockets. He pulls out a gilded card, one that is black and gold with flecks of red across the surface, but there are no other adornments to the material. “Tear it in half and it will bring you to our meeting place, and I will join you there to seal the deal. Should you decide that you do not want this after all, then all you need to do is burn the card. The decision lies in your hands, and yours alone.” He has to lift one of your limp hands and forcefully place the card into your waiting palm, closing his fingers around yours to make you cling to the item.

“I – th-thank you,” you stammer as you blink from your closed hand to Hongjoong’s features.

“The pleasure is all mine, doll.”

Those are the last words you hear from the demon before he slips away from you, the dense fog lingering in the air swirling up around his body, and within moments, his shadowy form disappears entirely from sight. The air grows cold around you once more. You are left with only the fleeting desire for that warmth to return, for you to feel less alone than you are in that moment, and even if it’s the briefest visit ever you just want one last chance to tell your lost lover how you feel without mistakes this time.

///

The night, as per usual, is cold and unforgiving. It allows for too many opportunities to be alone with lost feelings and thoughts. It has been weeks (if not months) since you visited that dingy club and your fateful meeting with none other than the King of the Dead. Yet you are still here, wallowing in the memories that you’ve been left to suffer with alone, and the gilded black card sits in your nightstand untouched. You open the drawer just to stare at it from time to time, when the nights are particularly rough, and it already had begun collecting a thin layer of dust the last few times you looked at it.

It isn’t that you haven’t made your decision about what you want from your deal with Hongjoong. The more terrifying fact is that you are fully aware of what it is you want, and you simply cannot rectify the guilt that comes along with the pure selfishness of your decision. The feeling is so potent that it swarms your every thought. You know it wouldn’t be an issue once you meet with Hongjoong; the demon will take it all away and leave you with nothing. You won’t even know enough to be guilty any longer, but the pain of committing to the decision is strong enough to make you sick to your stomach.

Wooyoung — the one who suggested you go to the club and make the deal in the first place — will not shut up about how worried he is about you. You won’t recall the deal or why you made it, so what’s holding you back? A temporary guilt that won’t exist longer than a few seconds once you’re actually in Hongjoong’s presence? As he said, you just need to swallow the feeling and get on with it. Prolonging the regrets any longer won’t do you any good.

You huff out a quiet laugh in the silence of your darkened room. The black gilded card taunts you again now, gleaming up at you through the shadows with its faint hints of gold and red. Maybe Wooyoung is right and the only way to get rid of missed opportunities is to forget about them entirely. Yeosang was but a chapter in your life, one that is past and gone now, and as Hongjoong said, there is no reversing death. Seeing him one last time won’t give you anything but pain.

You stretch a shaky hand towards the card in the drawer. It’s cold to the touch, dust billowing up with even the slightest touch of your fingers. You have to dig your nail under the material to pull it up, and once it’s safely set in your palm, you drag your thumb over the surface to brush the dirt away. No words on the surface, no sign that it has been touched by a demon, and not even a hint as to what it could possibly be for.

It is surprisingly flexible, at least moreso than you would have imagined, and you give it a few testing bends to see how easy it would be to break. Hongjoong simply gave you the instruction to tear it in half and that was all. You don’t expect him to suddenly materialize before you on a whim, but surely such a creation is bound by some sort of magic on his part. It is hard enough to believe that demons are real living creatures, but magic as well? Maybe you’ve passed on and just don’t realize it yet. Still, you exhale one last huff of air into the darkness before letting your eyes flutter shut. Taking the card between your hands, you begin to slowly rip the material until it separates with the force, torn in two mismatched pieces.

Nothing fantastical happens.

That fact alone is so overwhelmingly disappointing that you really think for a moment that Hongjoong was just some goth rocker in a stoner bar who pulled an elaborate trick on you. It can’t be too difficult to get your hands on some weird red-toned contacts and weave some elaborate story about being the King of Hell. You could do that yourself. Why did you think he was incapable of such a charade?

Because he knew what you wanted without you having to say it.

Yes, well, Wooyoung claimed that your regrets and grief were evident in your features every time he looked at you. Maybe Hongjoong could see it as well.

You fall back onto your bed, flattening your back against the mattress with a small shout of frustration. The urge to cry is strong; if you’ve spent all these weeks uselessly worrying over something that could all be a farce, you don’t even know how you would react. You squeeze your eyes shut tight, blinking away the tears that blossom in the corners there as best you can. The rolling emotions in your system distract you from the sudden shift in temperature, and before you know it heat washes over you and fills the void of cold in your body. You jerk but refuse to sit up quite yet, eyes flying open in your shock only to choke on air as a bright golden light fills your vision and swarms you with warmth. The cushion under your body doesn’t feel the same either; it is not your bed, it’s too plush and soft, too warm under you, and you feel like you are absolutely drowning in the sensation.

Gold flickers above you, twinkling lights that glisten like small stars above you, and the ceiling is so dark that you nearly think it’s just an opening to the night sky. You sit up in a mad panic. The gold and red decorations littering the far too lavish room barely process in your vision as you look for a way out, and you don’t even see the figure coming up along your side until he’s upon you. A hand stretches out to brush over your forehead. You nearly shriek in your state of terror, but the sound is all but stolen from your lungs instead.

“It’s only me, doll. You’re safe.”

Hongjoong. Ah, Hongjoong. Then… he was telling the truth. It wasn’t a farce or a deception meant to be a game. He claimed to be the Devil Incarnate, and here he stands before you in a room too rich and exquisite for words. You can’t find it in you to think he’s lying now.

You dare to glance up and meet his gaze, finding it so soft on your face that you have the audacity to blush under his stare despite the things you’ll be doing with him soon enough.

“Have you made your decision then?” He asks, tone soft and light. It isn’t one that demands an immediate answer. You know he could ask what took you so long to decide, complain about your hesitance, say that you kept him waiting for far too long — instead, he exudes patience with you, hand slowly combing over your forehead down to your cheek and brushing over the skin there with a touch so featherlight that you almost don’t realize it’s there at all.

“I-I have,” you whisper like the two of you aren’t the only ones in the room and it’s a secret meant only for your ears.

“What would you have from me first then? As I told you before, the payment is the same regardless of your decision, and as such, we can bind the deal first if you’d rather.”

You swallow around nothing. There is no harm in going through with the decision now, but your nerves are so frazzled and out of sorts that you almost desire the sex simply as a means of stress relief. Hongjoong steps in front of you, fully coming into view, and you are shocked at how… mundane he looks. You blink fervently at the man — demon, rather — and take in the gentle part of his hair, the soft glow of his skin that makes him look simply ethereal under this light. He hardly looks like a demon to you; his features are too smooth and perfect for that, from the curves of his lips to the even line of his nose. Although you suppose that’s all he wants you to see, yet it still seems oddly intimate to a certain degree.

“You aren’t worried that I’ll try to run away after my wish is fulfilled?” You ask. Hongjoong arches his brows at you, and his neutral expression slips into one of momentary shock.

“Where are you going to go, my dear? I brought you to this place, and you will need me to send you back once we’re done here.”

It sinks in at that moment how you are completely at his mercy right now. Not that you had any plans of running away, but the question was moreso just to test the waters, see if he is truly as merciful as his features make him out to be. The underlying danger in his tone proves your point and sends a chill down your spine.

“Is that something I ought to be worried about, doll? Should I claim you now to make sure you keep your end of the bargain?” The question sits on your ear like warm honey. It chokes you, fills your senses with Hongjoong’s scent, and you almost find yourself leaning into his curling lips before catching yourself. That seems to pique his interest in the very least, and his smile twists a bit more. “The decision is in your hands as always. I won’t do anything you don’t give me explicit permission to do.”

“Permission granted,” you mutter before catching a hand on Hongjoong’s collar. “Do it all.” You aren’t too worried about damaging his clothes as he’s not wearing anything drastically fancy or expensive-looking, and thus you twist your fist into a ball around the fabric of his black tee and yank him down to your height. He bends at the waist, hands catching on the mattress before his forehead can smack hard against yours. There’s a bit of tension in his neck, and that keeps him far enough back so that he doesn’t kiss you quite yet. It’s almost as though he is waiting for something else, eyes carefully tracing your features with great care before he settles on your lips, and a sharp inhale of breath follows before that thin line in his composure snaps.

His lips hit yours with a surprising amount of force, and the kiss isn’t at all what you were expecting — well, to be more accurate, you aren’t quite sure what you were expecting in the first place. It’s much more pleasant than you could have imagined though, and Hongjoong isn’t shy with the touch at all. His tongue is quick to swipe over your lower lip, hands darting upwards to brush over your sides before reaching your face, and he brings a knee down on the mattress to support his weight as he leans over you. You follow the motion when he pushes forward and lean back until you have no choice but to scoot back on the bed. Hongjoong moves with you with the same amount of fervor, still pressed to your lips without relent, and you don’t even think to stop as he completely drapes himself over your body, knees still up and supporting his weight. The cushion of the mattress dips by your head, a telltale sign that he’s placed his hands there, and you use that as your opportunity to stop for air. Hongjoong surely has no need to breathe like you do since he is undead, but he still pants above you, chest heaving as a pretty flush rises to his cheeks.

“Putting that much power in a demon’s hands is dangerous, is it not?” He mutters. You let your lashes flutter shut as he moves back to your lips, hot breath ghosting over your skin. “Are you sure you want to do that?”

“I’ll tell you if it’s something I don’t like,” you murmur, opening an eye to peek at him. He meets your gaze with a soft laugh, but your answer seems to please him enough to bring his attention back to your lips. You inhale as his tongue breaches your mouth and pushes into the wet cavern inside. There’s no chance for you to fight back for any sort of dominance because he only thrusts deeper and coats the inside of your mouth with his taste until you can feel his tongue brushing over your palate. A quiet moan reverberates through your throat and against his lips. You feel the barest hint of a smile in the kiss, then his lips are suddenly gone from yours. You gasp for air with the freedom. Heat pools in the depths of your gut, a pleasant one that leaves you wanting more, and you aren’t sure if it’s simply been so long since you last had sex or if Hongjoong truly has that effect on you.

He returns to touching your body a moment later, hands trailing to the row of buttons on your nightshirt, and one by one, he pulls them apart until the material is barely clinging to your skin. His lips replace his fingers then. First at your jaw placing a wet trail of kisses and soft nips that leave you with goosebumps. Then he reaches the midpoint of your sternum and rests the flat of his tongue there, tasting and teasing your skin until you can do nothing but writhe under him because he is taking so damn long. Your impatience is laughable to him, as evidenced by the quiet huff of air that leaves him next.

“I want to taste every inch of you,” he mumbles against the skin of your stomach, hands pulling your nightshirt away to expose more of the skin underneath. He makes good on his words, and that damn tongue traces lower and lower until he reaches the band of your pants and underwear. You instinctively dart a hand down to tangle in his hair. “F-Fuck.” The curse slips out when you give an accidental tug to the hair close to his nape, and you nearly think that you’ve hurt him in some manner until you catch sight of the blissed-out expression on his features.

“D-Do you — can I…?”

“Do it harder while I eat you out,” he growls. His fingers close hard around the remainders of your close, and you don’t even have time to nod before he’s yanking both your pants and underwear down in one fell swoop. It leaves you more than a little exposed — you’re suddenly nearly nude before the demon who is still fully clothed, and that realization draws your thighs tight together in a sudden rush of embarrassment. You swallow hard around nothing, eyes darting away from Hongjoong’s prying gaze.

All of a sudden, he shrugs your hand off his hair and sits back on his heels. You don’t understand what his reasoning is until you settle your eyes back on his body. He’s leaned back to start stripping layers of clothes off in a rush, hands fumbling and struggling to pull them away in an orderly manner. There is no composure to his actions, only a hastened fervor that has him tossing his shoes far from the bed along with random articles of clothes until he’s laid fully bare before you. You really try your hardest not to glance down at his… you know, but the urge is overwhelming. Before you can even catch a glimpse, however, Hongjoong is on you again, hands latched around your thighs and pulling you to the edge of the bed as he kneels before you on the floor. The sudden movement has you squealing in surprise, and that noise is broken off into a startled moan when Hongjoong’s lips brush through your folds without warning.

“O-Oh god,” you gasp out. Hongjoong’s tongue gives a long and dragging pull through your heat, teasing some of the juices out of you with little restraint.

“Far from it actually,” he replies against your clit. A cheeky grin eats away at his features, but it quickly disappears as he returns his focus to your cunt. Your hand finds its way back down to his hair once more and tugs hard at the strands. Each tweak of his tongue through your folds has your legs jerking a bit, and he has to tighten his grip on your thighs to keep you from moving so much under his touch.

“I’m not — I w-won’t last, pl-please, I–” You can’t even finish the sentence as Hongjoong flicks the tip of his tongue right over your clit and cuts you off. He repeats that same motion, again and again, brings you right to the precipice of an orgasm only to tear you back down from it with soft kisses pressed to the outside of your folds. You can’t keep track of how many times he repeats that process, but it is more than enough to have you shaking from exhaustion and desperation even though you haven’t even been able to come yet.

“Are you going to beg for it, doll?” Hongjoong hums after what feels like hours of pleasurable torture. “I promised to make you feel good, did I not? You just have to tell me what you want.” His words are so taunting that it burns you with embarrassment. The need for that orgasm hangs on every nerve ending of your body, and you could cry just out of the need to come.

“Please,” you whisper in a tone broken from constant moans and cries.

“Be more specific.” It’s so cruel. He dangles the promise of pleasure before your eyes again, this time nipping ever so gently at your bud, and you really do cry this time, fingers digging harshly on his scalp. That draws a prolonged growl from his lips, and it reverberates against you so nicely that you could come from that. Hongjoong pulls his head back too soon though and the sensation is dashed away.

“N-No, no, please. P-Please, Hongjoong, I — please let me come. I need it, I need it so badly. Shit, just – just please let me come,” you wail as tears slip out the corners of your eyes and spill onto the sheets under you. That’s the breaking point for him as well, or so it would seem, because the next time his mouth brushes through your cunt, he doesn’t relent. You come undone on his tongue, riding out the waves of your intense orgasm as he fucks his wet muscle into your heat. He won’t stop chuckling either — a low noise that just prolongs the pleasure and makes you quiver from overstimulation. He doesn’t let up until a dry and choked sob pushes past your lips.

Suddenly he is back up on the bed, bent over your body to be eye to eye with you. His fingers trace over your wet cheeks then clasp hard around your jaw.

“Too much?”

“N-No,” you stammer through the wet cries. “So good. So so good.”

“Mm, can you take my cock too, doll?” He all but purrs the words against your skin. His soft and trailing kisses return to your skin, peppering the line of your jaw just past his fingers.

“Yes, please, I c-can. Please. I want i-it all.” You never thought you could sound so overwhelmingly desperate, but the tumbling sensation that swerves through your stomach as Hongjoong’s demeanor shifts has you falling into absolute shambles. He shifts your position, pushing you up higher to rest against the pillows, and you start to drape your legs around his waist. That must not be the position he had in mind though, because his hand clamps down hard on one of your calves and pushes it to the top of his shoulder. Before you can even blink, he does the same with your other leg, effectively folding you in half and into a position you weren’t even aware that your body was capable of. That shock is momentary as you feel the tip of what must his cock rubbing over your pulsating hole. You can’t do anything but ball your fists around the sheets under you and cling to them like a vice. It’s the only thing that can prepare you for his girth; the stretch may not be as much as you thought it would be, but it still stings like a bitch even after he bottoms out in you. That pain must be showing on your features – in the way your brows are tightly knit together and your eyes are screwed shut so that excess tears from earlier slip out.

The soft caress of lips touches your forehead. It’s so gentle and delicate that you nearly miss it in your efforts to grow used to the sensation between your legs, but Hongjoong repeats it time and time again until your breathing steadies and your chest stops heaving as much. It’s only then that he dares to resituate his hips. You crack an eye open to look at him, and it’s abundantly clear that he’s trying his hardest to hold back and keep from fucking into you with reckless abandon.

“I’m okay now,” you whisper, pulling a hand off the bedsheets to brush some loose strands of hair out of Hongjoong’s vision. “Please fuck me as hard as you’d like.” You snake the same hand around the back of his neck. When he still doesn’t move, you offer a sharp tug to the hair that falls over his sweat-slick nape, and that spurs him into action. His hips snap roughly against yours, pushing your back further into the crude curve it’s already in. Now that the dull throbbing pain has dissolved into a sensation of pleasure, you drown yourself in the drag of his member inside you. It’s quite possibly the best feeling you’ve had all night with the way his tip rubs over your bundle of nerves at just the right angle.

Hongjoong drops his elbows to the pillow under your head, and you greet him with a kiss that is mostly just an awkward clash of teeth for the most part. He gains enough composure to shift the angle to one that’s easier for both of you, hips still working hard as he rocks into you with the same force and speed as before. You are so lost in the euphoria that you can’t even feel your next orgasm sneaking up on you, but when it does, it pulls a noiseless scream from your lips. Hongjoong mouths at the corner of your lips as you ride it out. He still seems far off from his own high, even as he slows the pulses of his thrusts. You claw your way back from the high of your orgasm to grip his hair tighter and pull him closer to you.

“In me. I need you to come in me or not at all,” you demand through a huffed out sigh. It’s a moment of throwing caution to the wind, one that is quite worth it thanks to the expression of hunger and lust that fills Hongjoong’s face.

“You can’t just say things like that, doll,” he growls into the shell of your ear. You try to laugh but he interrupts you with a thrust harsher than any of the ones before. Every sound that falls from your lips now is stuttered and broken at the seams, and you let him fuck you with that same level of passion until he finally seems to tire and lose his rhythm. The only warning you have that he’s about to orgasm is the slight whine to his tone when he moans next. You push what strength you have left into clenching hard around his cock, and that is ultimately what tips him over the edge and pulls a delightful moan from his lips as he spills into your tight heat. He releases his hold on your legs, letting them slip away from his shoulders and back into a more comfortable position on the bed, but he refuses to move off your body.

You aren’t sure how long the two of you stay like that: with Hongjoong continually mouthing small kisses to the underside of your jaw and you just staring blankly at the glittering ceiling with a mind nearly empty. However much time passes doesn’t quite matter because once you recover your senses enough to be coherent again, you recall what is supposed to come next. Shaky hands find their way to Hongjoong’s arms and trail up to rest atop his back.

“Take it all away,” you exhale through a pant, hands clinging desperately to the milky skin of Hongjoong’s shoulders. “I don’t want to remember him anymore.” His chest heaves against yours, and a few loose strands of dark hair fall forward to stick to his sweat-slick forehead. This time when he kisses you, it is hot and searing, a brand against your lips, one that burns the inside of your mouth and sets your tongue alight. The sensation slips down the back of your throat, fills your gut, burns you from the inside out, and all your thoughts go hazy under the touch of his lips. With that one kiss, Hongjoong takes it all away. He gives into your desires, heeds your wishes, and grants you the ultimate peace and serenity you so deeply craved. He continues to cling to you like he’s never held something so desperately or lost in his infinite existence. You return the embrace in full while you can, strength already leaving you in the afterglow of your fornication, and you rake your nails down over his back if only to leave him with some sort of trophy to leave with. He is already leaving with your memories though, a trophy to hold close to his heart should there ever be a time when you ask for them to be returned to you. Perhaps in your afterlife, you’ll ask for them back, and Hongjoong would gladly give them should it be what you desire.

That is what he is, after all. As much as he takes, the Demon King of the Underworld gives in return, where he can with what he can. His duty, his bond, the sole purpose for his existence is to maintain that balance between giving and taking. But if it’s for you — a creature so lost, dismal, and hopeless — perhaps he can tip the scales a bit further in your direction.

At least, that’s what he thinks as you curve your body into his and press your lips with more fervor than before. That maybe, just maybe, endless years of his own hopelessness and confusion were all meant to lead him to finding this: a purpose in his undying life.

﹎﹎﹎

#atzinc #kdiarynet #kwritersworldnet #ateez smut #ateez x reader #ateez angst #ateez imagine #ateez imagines #ateez oneshot #ateez scenarios #hongjoong smut #hongjoong x reader #hongjoong angst #hongjoong imagine #hongjoong imagines #hongjoong oneshot #hongjoong scenarios

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jamestrmtx · 4 years

Text

Fairytale Complex - [Undertale | Sans x Reader]

[Gender Neutral, Frisk's Parent Reader | Slow Burn]

Chapter Twelve | Danger Mystery (Part 1 of 2)

[First] | [Previous] | [Next]

Today's the day, and though there's no going back now, one look at the last message your ex sent you makes you wish you could.

I'll 🐝 there in 30 ⌚, babe. 😘😘😘

💋💖🥺 Miss you. 🥺💖💋

The overuse of emojis topped off with him calling you ‘babe’ makes you regret so much as the thought of meeting him already.

It's hard to imagine a normal conversation with Jerry given how awfully long it's been since you last talked and how blatant you were being through texts, ignoring all the ones about the info he dug up on monsterkind and only answering his most recent message with a 'K'. You didn't want to hear his reasons behind his absence after how bad things were left between you, and even less did you want him to call you 'babe' in real life. Grateful as you are to have Toriel offer her home as the place for your meeting with him, you look forward to this as much as you do having to wake up at five in the morning every weekday. Her home is busy as a result of the upcoming visitor, with Papyrus trying to make himself look like the most sophisticated gentleman possible, Toriel fixing Frisk's hair into two short braids, Undyne freshening up after exercising all her own nervousness away, Alphys practicing her introductory speech, and Sans revising Frisk's homework.

Considering how much of a handful the last person has been, you decide to take that as an opportunity for you to bother him yourself -- not only as payback, but as a way to prepare yourself to confront Jerry soon.

You approach the couch he sits on and stand behind him, his sitting height and your standing one allowing you to grab a look at what he's doing with more detail. He's around halfway through correcting Frisk's Math homework, and their English speech is already set aside with a few marks and commentary on what they had left to work with. His revision stops when you hover a little closer, making him acknowledge your presence and set the notebook aside to turn around and meet with your eyes.

"How do I look?

That's the first question you ask him, a bit of confidence shining through with how your health's managed to improve a bit since your hospitalization. While you still have to use foundation to cover up your stress blemishes and you're far from being as fit as Jerry was, it's a huge difference from how you were at the start of it all. As a result, you smile, ready to hear someone else's view of you besides Frisk, Brenda, or yourself.

"'Fraid you're asking the wrong person, pal," he replies, gaze averting from yours.

"C'mon," you insist, sitting next to him on the couch. You then shift a bit closer to the skeleton and nudge his shoulder, pouting at him after that. "Please?," you add, facing him again. "You're… You're the only one I trust who won't sugarcoat how I look if you pointed out those 'love handles' I've got a while back."

He manages to keep his gaze and attention on the conversation, though you can see he tries to look elsewhere every so often, as if unable to stare at you for too long.

"So? I was just makin' a comparison between us, not callin' you out or anything."

"But you were still bold enough to say I had them."

You pull your hand back, noticing it's been kept on his shoulder for far too long. Then, you scoot away, growing aware of how close you are. "I don't want him to think I'm still hung up over him." You huff. "It's been almost six years now!"

"Are you still thinkin' about 'im, though?"

"Oh, hell no. He can go date whoever he wants."

Sans grabs the area where you'd touched him; the sight of that makes you worry if you'd involuntarily crossed a line with him. You're not sure how to ask if you've made him uncomfortable, so you back off and shift further away in your seat, setting your hands on your lap and staring down afterwards. "He was… nice enough to wait until I finished my second year of college for us to call our relationship off and for him to leave the picture, so I can't really blame him too much for what happened." You take in some air and look up again, maintaining your pride. "But that still doesn't mean I don't want to look my best. I've moved on, and I... I really want all that to show today."

Appearing convinced, Sans nods once and sits up straighter on the couch. Whatever made him wary of eye contact vanishes and allows him to judge you without any bias, irises scanning your face for a moment. He carries on to your attire, though it's a quicker observation in comparison and a hint of embarrassment can be seen in his body language, from how stiff his shoulders get to how his grin feels forced and bashful. "You look good. Not much different from your regular self, I'd say."

"Please, be honest with me here, Serif. I know I didn't exactly... look my best when we first met, y'know? It's fine."

"But I am being honest." Again, he averts his gaze from yours, posture staying rigid as he faces the table and stares at the open notebook. "You don't need to try and look like you've moved on, 'cause it already shows -- And even more now that you look healthier, too."

Unsure how to approach his comment, you grab your knees and clench your hands around them, sighing after. "If you really think so, then I..." You breathe in, chest feeling tighter than the belt around your waist. "Thank you."

You stand up and fix your clothes for what has to be the twentieth time today. Your heart's racing just as much as your thoughts. Honest to goodness, you were nervous over meeting Jerry again, and not because of butterflies or lingering feelings, but for how much had happened since he last visited. At the thought of him meeting the monsters and learning all about the near two months Frisk was absent from your side, your worries heighten and anxiety eats right through your confidence.

Nervous, you gulp and look back to the couch again, offering the one still sitting there a smile. "Could you... follow me outside, please?" You wring your hands, clasping them as a subtle plead shows on your face. "I could really use your company right now."

Sans laughs at that, nodding again as he stands up, dusts off, and joins your side, winking when he looks up at you. "Thought you'd never ask, (Y/N)."

You still can't help feeling strange at the sound of him saying your name.

While you're fully aware it was nothing out of the ordinary and that he was now in closer enough terms with you to call you that instead of 'pal' or (L/N), there remains a sudden flip in your stomach whenever he says it. Whether it was due to how wary you've become around him or how incessant he was with his flirting, it's still impossible for you to acknowledge that and get over those feelings. No way were you wasting any of your time and energy thinking about that stuff, anyway.

• • •

The temperature changes as you both step outside.

In contrast to the warmth and coziness of Toriel's home, you're greeted by cold and unrelenting winds, along with the colder, occasional water droplets falling on your face. The hint of a downpour coming soon makes you dwell on your past visit here and how you were obliged to stay the night back then. You wonder if the same ending will apply for today, or if you would have to cut your reunion short as a consequence.

"Guessin' those months without the kid around were pretty draining, huh? You look way happier compared to when we first met." Sans breaks the ice, though his hands are kept in his pockets to shield himself from both the cold and any awkward body language. "When I think about it, it's… It's kinda hard to believe it's already been just as long since we left the Underground -- And that it's gonna be Frisk's birthday soon, too."

You face down at him, smiling when you meet with his gaze. "Has it felt like less or longer to you?"

"A weird mix between the two, actually."

You look away from each other at the sound of an engine rumbling from nearby. A familiar, red colour flashes before your eyes; the Ferrawrxd that parks at the sidewalk brings back memories, ones you try to push down. "Tori was already plannin' out somethin' for 'em by that time," the skeleton says, distracting you from the view. "Has she talked about it with you?"

"Not yet," you reply, facing your shoes. "But I wanted to ask her if she'd like to help out -- It's the least I can do with how much she cares for Frisk."

Despite your best efforts not to, you tense up at the sound of a person stepping down and a car door being shut and locked.

Now that you're actually about to confront your ex, it's hard for you to keep your confidence and face up at that sight. "You should do it, then." Again, Sans's voice helps melt your worries down. "I'm sure she'll be more than happy to join you in that -- And pretty much the rest of Frisk's friends, too." You can feel his gaze on you, though you don't look at him, still too anxious to move your eyes away from the floor. "And I'd be more than happy to help also, so just say the word if you need me."

The earthy scent of roses catches you off guard and makes you look up to see a large, white-and-red bouquet being offered out to you, ex-husband standing behind them. "How's it going, babe?" he asks, a smile present on his face. "I missed you."

You back up against the door to Toriel's home and face the man in front of you with careful eyes. Your breathing hitches with how different a greeting that is from your expectations; the sight of him having no companion around and the use of 'babe' makes it obvious as to what the bouquet means. It's even more than evident with the lull in his tone and the soft look in his eyes, though you don't want to acknowledge that. To counter, you step closer to the skeleton's side and look at your ex right in the eye, a firm look remaining in yours.

"I'm doing alright," you reply, stoic. You then take the flowers from him, paying little attention to them and ignoring his other comment. "This is Sans. Though I'm sure you've heard about him already," you add, gesturing with a hand over to him. Pretending you hadn't seen Jerry at the restaurant back at the very beginning of it all is the best you can do for now with how hard it is to lie about it. "He's one of Frisk's friends from the Underground."

The pair exchange a look, one you can only remain curious over when you remind yourself over the purpose for Jerry's visit. You glare sharply at him, wanting to stand your ground. "Why return after a whole year of not coming around to see your child?" Finally, you cross your arms tight and let your displeasure known through a grimace. "Frisk was gone for almost two whole months, and yet you never worried to ask if I needed help with that or not!"

You take a step forward, anger bubbling the more you let those words dawn upon you. "You came to visit us only after the hardest stage was over. The one where I needed you the most!" You hold yourself back, against letting your voice turn any louder or making a scene of any sort.

"Well, I..." he counters, gaze narrowing and frown showing. "I waited two whole years for you to start out college before ending our relationship, and I'm still paying child support to this day."

"And I had to divide time between taking care of a two year-old with work and college!" You huff out, trying to contain yourself. "This isn't a competition, Jerry. It never was." A sharp bite to the inside of your lip is what's necessary for you to keep yourself from exploding any further than you have already, against showing any more weakness in front of him. "I don't care if you decided to leave, I only wanted you to at least pretend you cared for Frisk. Not just show up and visit once a year like freakin' Santa Claus!"

He glares back at you, keeping it that way when he looks down at Sans, his height not only towering over the monster, but you, as well. "At least I'm not dating a Halloween decoration seven years after my divorce!"

Wham!

You shove the bouquet right at his chest.

Your nostrils flare and your hands ball up tight as you stare him down, frown changing for a deep and unwavering scowl. "Don't talk to him like that!" You pause and take another step forward, enough for him to do the opposite. "Don't call me babe, and don't give me flowers if you're just gonna assume I'm dating someone else! I'm through with you, Jerry, and it's been that way since six damn years ago."

Jerry's eyes lower back to the skeleton, who takes his hands out of his pockets and straightens up. He faces your ex, looking amused. "So this is the one you told me you liked, man?" he asks, brushing you aside to make way towards Sans. "Is this really the (chick/dude) you told me you were into? I thought we were bros!"

"Wait, what?"

Those are the only words you can say out loud as you watch the two confront each other, tension thick in the air. Jerry takes in all of it, while the monster keeps his cool, shrugging at his bro. "Sorry to lay it down like this, but yeah," he says, snickering. "They're who I'm into." He spares a quick glance at you, winking to further fuel your ex's anger. "I gotta admit, it's a bit awkward. Though I really dunno why you're so worked up over this if you had your time all those years ago. Ain't my fault you two broke up."

"They're my ex-spouse, bro!"

"Yeah -- I'm well-aware of that, pal."

You back away from the door when it opens, revealing a frowning Toriel behind it.

"Is everything alright out there, you two? Someone sounds angry." When she catches sight of Jerry, her eyes brighten and a smile overcomes her. "I see our new guest is here! Come along now. I cannot wait to meet Frisk's other parent!"

"Inna second, Tori," Sans says, grinning up at your ex. "Just havin' a talk with 'im first."

The goat lady nods, and a knowing look's exchanged between them two; she then closes the door after that, leaving you be.

Overwhelmed and in need of some painkillers for a future headache, you take a step back meanwhile, not quite in favour of getting caught up between your ex and a monster with a seemingly one-sided crush on you.

"What more could there be to talk about?" Jerry asks, scowling. "If I'd known it was (Y/N) you'd been talking about this whole time, I would've never told you to try giving it a shot!"

He storms off inside the house and closes the door shut, leaving you alone with the skeleton, who soon beckons you over with his irises, a look of caution visible in them.

"You okay, pal?" he asks, hands going back in his pockets. "Sorry I got ya mixed up in all this. I know you don't want any drama, but I really didn't think he'd figure me out like this."

You stand by the door and lean against the wall while you consider his words.

It doesn't take too long for a smile to show up on your face. You sigh, choosing to believe him for now. "It's alright," you say, dismissing his words. "The look you gave each other before this kind of... showed that." You pause, curiosity intervening. "How did you guys become friends, anyway? Didn't he pretty much hate your guts a while back?"

"Met 'im again while workin' at a hot dog stand, so we've been able to talk some more since then." Sans joins your side, similar to the day at Waterfall, but with an easier atmosphere present between you. "He came over to grab a bite, we found some stuff in common, and then we kinda just became friends from there on -- Surprisingly." He hums, a faint chuckle interrupting it. "We started talkin' about our love lives two weeks into gettin' to know each other. And about a month after you confronted me over at that restaurant." His hands leave his pockets, these placing themselves behind his skull as he further reclines against the wall. "I told 'im I'd met someone I was interested in, but when he asked for specifics, I said they weren't really into me. Told 'im they were a single parent, and that maybe that had somethin' to do with them not fallin' easily enough for my flirtin'."

He stops, though you still want to hear more. You nod at him, hope over him carrying on remaining. "Is... Is that all?"

"You'll get mad at me if I keep tellin' you what I told 'im about you."

"I can't promise I won't, but I'll try not to."

The monster takes in a breath, and his relaxed state is then replaced by a subtle mousiness he tries to cover up, mainly by remaining calm and casual.

"I told him your stubbornness and integrity were kinda just... hot, and that I had a thing for not only your looks, but just you, in general -- As a person, I mean."

"Do you still feel that way about me?"

You don't know what makes you blurt that question out, but it's far too late for you to dwell over it now of all times.

"Of course I do," Sans says, rubbing the back of his neck. "I told Jerry 'bout that last part just a few days ago." He stops again, breathing in deep once more. "I was, well, only doing it for fun back when it started. But now... Now I really mean it when I flirt with you, (Y/N)."

[First] | [Previous] | [Next]

• • •

Updates will be Mondays and Fridays starting after Part 2 of this chapter!

Not only will I continue working with my Mario (one-shots from my old account, featuring Princess Peach, Princess Daisy, Rosalina, and Pauline) and She-Ra (some drabbles I’ll be posting here later on) fanfics soon, but I've reached a personal milestone in terms of my studies, so I'll be celebrating that soon!!

• • •

Tag List (Comment or message me if you want to be added to [or removed from] it!)

@the-simp-express

@nektotersh

@disastrous-l0vebug

@therealchickenjoe

@mintyflakes025

@pandaquick

@timelock97

#sans x reader #undertale x reader #lgbt #lgbt themes #gender neutral reader #male reader #female reader #mother reader #father reader #parent reader #chubby reader #long fic #romcom #adventure #mystery #platonic relationships #slow burn

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words-for-holland · 4 years

Text

Quarantine Series: Burnt Out

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Summary: Y/N has to work from home during Quarantine, but when she gets extremely busy it’s up to Tom to find a way to help her relax .

A/N: This is my second attempt at this piece. Last time I created this it was super long but it got deleted 😩

All Y/N ever wanted was an opportunity to work from home. Then again, who wouldn't want that opportunity? All she could think about was how nice it’d be to work in the comfort of her own home, not have to dress up in business professional clothing, and most importantly be surrounded by the people she cared for the most. But as the saying goes, “Be careful for what you wish for.”

When a global pandemic decided to take over 2020, Y/N certainly got her wish. Her company was forced to work from home until further notice, but what she didn’t expect was the amount of work she would be given. Y/N was pulled from project to project with deadlines thin as paper, and was expected to pick up the extra work of those that were no longer with the company. There was no time to catch a breath, and there certainly was no time to spend with her beloved boyfriend, Tom. This only made Y/N more depressed and made the Holland boys only more concerned.

“Mate, you got to get her to take a break. She’s gonna overdo it.” Harrison commented to his best friend, as they watched Y/N type away like a zombie from the kitchen.

“You think I don’t know that?!” Tom responded with a defeated sigh. “Every time I ask her, she always brushes it off and claims shes fine. Don't get me wrong, Im proud of her and admire her work ethic, but damn its sucking the life out of her.”

Both Harrison and Tom continued to observe Y/N with a cup of tea on hand, wondering how long it would take before she snapped. Tom hated seeing her like this. To him this wasn’t fair. It’s not fair that her 8 hour shift now became a 15 hr shift. Its not fair that she had to work 3 weekends straight, and it certainly wasn’t fair that her company took precious time away to be together. It was hard enough already that he couldn’t spend time with Y/N like a normal boyfriend would because of filming. Now, that he has the opportunity to make up for the lost time, it’s taken away.

“What if you surprised her?” Harrison quipped.

Tom looked up at his best friend with curious eyes. It took a few minutes to sink in, until the brightest idea figuratively smacked him in the face. “Yeah...yeah!” he responded, a smile forming “And I think I know exactly how to do it.”

As Tom was working through the thought process of his brilliant plan, his younger brother entered the kitchen, looking for his usual afternoon snack. “Hey, does anyone know where —. Oh no...” Harry groaned as he looked up at Tom and Harry. “Whatever it is that you two are planning...Leave me out of it.”

“Come on, mate. You dont even know what were planning.” Harrison defended

“Believe me, I know enough and any plan that involves you in it, is likely to fail 99.9% of the time.” Harry opened up his bag of crisps as he continued to list out the other 99 possible reason why they should have left Y/N alone like she wanted. “Cmon guys, you know how she gets. When she doesnt want to be bothered, she doesnt want to be bothered.”

“You’re right Harry, but she’s so stressed, she’s homesick, and one day she’s going to overdo it. Id be a shit boyfriend, if I let it happen.” Tom reasoned. “Look, Im not trying to do anything crazy here. I just want to give her that sense of comfort and see her relax.”

Harry looked at his brother and then at Harrison, both displaying their best puppy dog eyes, in hopes that he’ll join in. “The face doesnt work on me...but I’ll help for Y/N’s sake.”

Meanwhile, Y/N continued her work in the living room, her eyes firmly glued to the computer screen. After being dragged into the kitchen and the Holland plan, Tuwaine slowly made his way to Y/N. “Hey Y/N.” he happily greeted. “I think it’s time for you get some fresh air, don’t you think?”

Y/N looked up, her glasses slightly shifting forward down her nose. “You know theres this thing called being stuck in Quaratine right?” she responded, continuing to code her project.

“I think the real question is do you really want to work here when there’s just nothing but CONSTANT NOISE !” Tuwaine yelled out, hoping the others would catch on.

“What?!” Tom yelled back. It took him some time to realize what Tuwaine meant by his statement. “Oh...Right!” Quickly, Tom grabbed whatever pot or pan he could grab his hands on and dropped them on the counter. Harrison and Harry gave Tom the strangest look. “What? I gave him some noise?”, he shrugged.

“See?” Tuwaine smiled back at Y/N. “You wouldnt want to distract that working brain of yours with all this going on, right?” Y/N furrowed her eyebrows as Tuwaine as she looked at him and the closed off kitchen. Did they think she was born yesterday? Of course she knew they were up to something. None of the boys were subtle enough to keep everything hush hush.

Y/N shook her head and decided to just go with it. The faster she complied, the faster they’d leave her alone, which only meant more time to finish her work. Tuwaine helped carry her laptop, mouse, and charger to the porch as he led her outside. “See, arent you glad your outside, breathing in fresh air with no distractions?”, Tuwaine spoke out.

Y/N took her time to admire the view. “Wow”, she whispered under her breath. Y/N couldnt remember the last time she set foot outdoors. Seeing the sunlight hit the flower beds, the gentle breeze rustle through the grass; it was beautiful. Of course, the moment was short lived with a simple ding, which only multiplied by the second.

Y/N dripped her head back, trying to rub out the frustration from her face. “Yes, well it was fun while it lasted. Duty calls.”

“Im sure they wouldnt mind if you just took five minutes for yourself at least.” Tuwaine commented, feeling bad about the amount of work he saw popping up on your screen.

“Yeah well that’s Corporate for you. Doesnt matter if you’re 500 km away or if a virus is hurting the population. If you’re not working, you’re useless.” Y/N shrugs. It wasn’t like her company was completely evil, this was just how business worked.

“I know Y/N, and we all see that you care deeply about your work but we’re all so worried about you too. We want you to be mentally okay as well. I know Tom is worried about you the most...He misses you, you know.”

Y/N’s heart dropped the second she heard him say it. She knew that all of this was gonna take some time away from Tom, but she hadn’t realized how much he would be missing her, even though they’re living under the same roof. “Yeah I miss him too, more than anyone will know. Believe me.” Y/N pondered for a moment as she stared at the work in front of her. Perhaps five minutes couldn’t hurt. “Maybe I will take that break after all.”

“Really?”, Tuwaine was surprised she had agreed so quickly, and at the same time he panicked. Tom and the others were not ready for Y/N’s surprise yet. “On second thought, Im wrong. You should keep going and try to finish up that project of yours or else you’ll never be done.”

“Excuse me?” Y/N asked as she tried to close her laptop. “You just spent a whole half hour trying to convince me to stop working, and now you want me to go back and work?”

“Yeah..I mean what do I know, right?” He laughed nervously. Tuwaine looked back at the door, for some sort of signal. Come on man it’s not like your preparing a break for the Queen of England.

“Listen Tuwaine, if I go back there and you boys break anything in that house...I swear— I’ll”

“Y/N!” Tom interjected as he stepped out to the porch. He wrapped his arms behind her waist, giving her a gently kiss on the top of her head. “How’s work, my pretty girl?” He looked back at Tuwaine and mouthed a thank you to him as he left the love birds alone.

Y/N turned around to face Tom, taking in his features and running her hands at the nape of his neck. “Busy, but what else is new? I’ve been missing you a whole lot”

“Me too, darling. Anyway, Im really hoping you can take a break from all this because I’ve got something special for you.”

“Oh no, babe. You know you didnt have to anything for me. Really Im fine..I-“

“I wanted to. In fact the boys wanted in on it too. So this is really from all of us, if you think about it.” Tom grabbed Y/N’s hand as he led her back in to house. “Come.”

As they both enetered the house hand in hand, Tom led Y/N into the kitchen, where the rest of the boys waited with diner burgers in hand and warm homemade chocolate chip cookies on the side of table. What seemed like a simple meal was a cure for any bad day..at least for Y/N it was. It represented a sense of home for her, while being far from Jersey. Even though she hadnt realized it, Tom and the boys knew she needed it. “Wow” Y/N breathed “I...I dont know what to say.”

“Dont say, just eat” Harrison laughed. “In all honesty this was Tom’s idea. We just wanted to make sure you had the support you need.”

“Yeah you deserve this, so please enjoy it.” Harry added. With that, everyone dug in and bonded over a family dinner, sharing laughs and stories. Tom leaned toward Y/N whispering in her ear, “I have a few more surprises after this.”

The next few surprises did not disappointment. He set up a nice warm bath for the two of them to relax and enjoy each others compny. A few subtle kisses, laughter, and silence was shared between the two. Y/N leaned back into Tom’s chest, feeling the water gently flow back and forth. Breathing in and out, she had forgotten how good this felt. Being close to Tom, was a different experience, one that no one could ever do justice. This was what she really needed.

After the bath, Tom led her into their shared bedroom. For a moment, Y/N stopped him as she pulled his head down to hers, giving him the kiss he rightfully deserved. Her lips crashed with his, his hands gently holding the sides of her tiny face. He picked her up as she wrapped her legs around his waist and situated themselves on the bed. Reluctantly, they both pulled away, catching their breath. Their foreheads touching and noses gently rubbing the others. “I love you. I love you more than you could possibly know.” Y/N whispered to him

“And I love you. I just want to give you the world because you deserve it all. My hardworking pretty girl.” Of course all good things must come to an end.

After a great well spent break was shared between Y/N and Tom, she was back on the work grind. Only this time she was working in their room as Tom was reading a script for his next upcoming project. The more Y/N coded, the sleepier she was getting. It onyl took a few minutes before she started leaning into Tom and her eyes started to flutter. Her breaths became slower and she was out like a light.

Tom turned to look at Y/N, smiling to see the sight of her finally at peace. He removed her glasses and set them by her table side. Tom made sure to clock her out of work abd checked to see if her work was saved. Just as he was about to turn off her laptop, another message popped up. “Great”, he muttered, rolling his eyes at the fact her team is still working at this hour. He couldnt help but read it though. Just how badly did they need her anyway?

We all know how hard you’re working and going above and beyond to get these projects out the door. For that, we thank you! On behalf of the company we’d like you all to take a day off on us!

Tom smiled, relieved that shell finally get some time for herself. Feeling triumphant, he shut off her laptop and set it aside. Crawling back into the bed and covering themselves under the blanket. His arms wrapped her waist once again. “Goodnight, my love. Im so proud of you.” he whispered.

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker

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infernwetrust · 4 years

Text

A Little Attention Please [Michael Langdon x Jim Mason x Fem Reader] Pt 1.

Summary: Jim grows tired of Michael working on the holidays and in attempt to get his attention says some pretty truthful, but hurtful words, to which the both of you will now have to suffer.

Warnings: pre-smut, angst, swearing, mentions of drug use, a little bit o-violence, arguing

WC: 2.5k

A/N: I’m really getting into the Michael x Jim x Y/N universe and I like it. The next thing I put out will be for Hands On, which can be found here. In the light of the upcoming New Year, here ya go! Thank you for reading! 2 part series. -Juno

They were going at it again. You could hear them. Michael and Jim, arguing. And while this wasn't the first of the many arguments between just the two, this one was serious. This one intensified as the constant shouting and the occasional shuffle of noises, which you knew were things either flying around or breaking, only continued to get louder. Jim was beyond fed up with Michael working all the time, but today hit home for the boy. It was New Years Eve. They were suppose to be getting drunk and high together, like Michael promised. They were suppose to be cooking together, all of them, like Michael promised. And if anything pissed Jim off the most, it was just the fact that they were suppose to be spending time together, but they aren't.

Once again, Michael got wrapped up in his cooperative work. He sits at his desk for most of the day, coming out office every now and then to make sure Jim and Y/N were still okay or to grab another Monster and a snack. He reads and replied to a slew of emails and texts from his Mac. He'd have a couple phone calls and a couple FaceTimes with what he called "the esteemed members of the cooperative". This one phone call in particular set Jim off and for a moment you blocked out the intensifying argument coming from Michael's office to replay the events leading up to this in your head.

***

You and Jim sat around the island counter, your hand lovingly rubbing over his thigh as the two of you stared up at the kitchen TV, watching whatever was on, sharing a bowl of popcorn. In the other room you could hear Michael, yet again, taking another phone call, when he was suppose to be out here with you and Jim.

"I mean what else is there to do before midnight?" you heard Michael ask whoever he was speaking to on the phone. "Just work, work, work, and work, you know that."

You could tell that Jim was getting aggravated as his leg now began to bounce against your hand as he tried to remain focused on the show playing in front of him. In an effort to help, you slowly glided your hand across the bulge that formed between his legs a few minutes ago, around the time you started rubbing his thigh. That was a huge turn on Jim had that you recently discovered. Anything dealing with his thighs, Jim was hard as a rock. Rubbing, biting, scratching, kissing, licking, you name it.

"Oh. Jim and Y/N are in the kitchen. I hear them in there watching Big Bang Theory." Michael said as he continued his conversation. "Ahhhh. They'll be fine for a few more hours. They know how important my work is. Doesn't matter as long as I'm in there before midnight, right?" Upon hearing those words, Jim slammed his hands down on the table, getting up, eyes red from his own intoxication with marijuana.

"Jim please don't." you whispered, grabbing his hand.

"Please don't?" he whispered back, raising his eyebrows at you. "Please don't?! I'm so sick of this Y/N."

"I know, baby." you said, standing up to face him, holding onto his hand. "But you also know Michael's role and what he has to do."

"I don't give a fuck about Michael's role right now. We gave him Christmas. We gave him Thanksgiving. We gave him his favorite, fucking Halloween and the one time we ask him to please be fully present on a holiday, what is he doing?" You fell silent, knowing that Jim was right. "Answer me, Y/N. What is he doing?"

"Talking it up with his cooperative 'bitches'." you replied. That's what Jim liked to call them and Michael often found it amusing, not knowing Jim's angry connotation behind it.

"Exactly." Jim said. "So let me go."

Michael walked in the kitchen, still on the phone, and glanced between the two of you, giving both of you a wink before grabbing a water from the fridge and making his way back to his office, causing Jim to snatch his hand from you, trailing shortly behind.

"No holidays off. Ever. Not even birthdays." Michael said. "I know I can't even rem-,"

Michael's conversation was cut short by Jim, who grabbed his phone from his ear and chucked it against the wall with all his strength, watching as it shattered to pieces. Michael quickly turned around, eyes black as the night sky before quickly realizing it was Jim who appeared in front of him.

"Jim..." he spoke, his voice soft, but also laced with a little bit of anger. You decided that you wouldn't follow Jim into Michael's office because when things got bad between the both of them, it got real bad. "Do you want to explain to me why you just did that? I was in the middle of an important call."

"Why does it matter Mr. Big Shot Anti-Christ?" Jim spat. "You work so fucking much that you have all the money in the world to by a new one right? People at your disposal 24/7 and on call for you, right, Mr. Langdon?"

"Jim what are you getting at?"

"And what do Y/N and I get again on another holiday, nothing." Michael sighed, sitting on the edge of his desk and folding his arms across his chest. He assumed that this was just another one of Jim's little outbursts, so he was going to let him finish. "A couple of kisses and a quick fuck, isn't doing it for me anymore Michael." Jim paused, turning around to look at Michael's giant flat screen that occupied the wall directly in front of his desk. What appeared on it, made Jim's blood boil even more. More often than not, on days that he was especially busy and especially missing his babies, he kept a slide show on of pictures and random videos of the 3. This slide show just happened to be his private album of the 3. Pictures ranged from his nudes, Jim's nudes, your nudes, to the pictures he took during the many sexual adventures the three of you would go on.

"Oh so this is how you get your rocks off instead of spending time with us, huh?" Jim asked, glaring at Michael. "Because why have the real thing when I can just stare at the pictures all day?" Michael chuckled, running his hands through his long blonde hair, his eyes never leaving Jim's. "I'm glad you think this is fucking funny." And without warning, Jim grabbed Michael's PlayStation controller and threw it at the TV.

"Jim what the fuck is the issue?!" Michael asked, starting to get angry. "Breaking things isn't going to solve anything!"

"You Michael. You are the fucking issue! The cooperative is the fucking issue!"

"Jim Jam you know I have to work! I'm not just some regular fucking CEO. Im the-,"

"Fucking anti-Christ. Yeah, tell me something I don't fucking know. So far that's all you've been rather than a lover to me and Y/N. One holiday. That's all we both asked of you and where are you Michael? In here. Again! It's fucking 8PM and we haven't even started cooking because we've been waiting on your ass all day!"

"I don't know how many times I have to explain to you how important it is that I have all these files together and quickly."

"And that's what you have a second in command for. Tell them to fucking handle it! You don't have to over see everything 24/7, Michael! We exist too. We want your attention too. We worship the ground you walk on too, but you know what they don't do?!"

"Jim, don't start-,"

"They don't love you like we do Michael. They follow your fucking DEAD BEAT father, Michael. Not you! Last time I heard, it was Hail Satan not Hail Satan's son."

"I suggest you watch your mouth, Jim Mason."

"Or what?" Jim asked, stepping closer to Michael. "You do all this work to impress your daddy, but where is he? I'm gonna recreate the world in my father's image, but where has father been throughout all of this?"

"He's doing his best!"

"His best? Oh fuck me, Michael. His best?! He left you in the middle of the woods to DIE at one point Michael! He ignores you on days ends, only giving you maybe an answer when he sees fit. And your cooperative bitches? Satan probably doesn't answer them either so of course they're following in your fucking foot steps. Who's the next best person when we can't reach the devil himself? His son."

"Stop." Michael said, sternly, jaw clenched.

"Yet here Y/N and I are, loving you for more than the fact that you're just the anti-Christ and we find ourselves constantly at the bottom because everything is sooooooo important. Fuck you, Michael. I love you, but fuck you. And if it came down to it, since no one really wants to put it in your head, your father would have no problem watching you die."

"I'll snap your neck." Michael said, grabbing Jim by his throat and giving it a squeeze.

"Did you ever really stop to think about it?" Jim questioned. "He's selfish, Michael. There can only be one Satan and if it means watching you suffer and struggle to find answers, then of course he's going to turn a blind eye to his precious boy. And his precious boy, so eager for every one in the world, not just his significant others, to suck him off, is willing to work himself to death for an answer he'll never be able to find." Jim was pushing all the right buttons and he knew it. If he couldn't pull Michael out of his work nicely, dark Jim was going to do it.

***

"Cooperative this! Cooperative that!" Jim yelled, storming out of Michael's office with Michael's MacBook in his hand, causing you to get immediately snap your head up.

"Jim, I swear, if you fucking-," Michael said, trailing behind him.

"You'll what, Michael?!" Jim questioned, abruptly stopping to turn around and face him. "You'll snap my neck? Set me ablaze? Do it then. At least that's some form of attention." And again without warning, Jim smashed Michael's computer, screen open, face down, on the coffee table, right in front of you, causing you to flinch and yelp.

"Jim!" you shouted, but Michael stood perfectly still. And you remembered, vividly, what happened the last time Michael stood perfectly still. You quickly hopped up to your feet, grabbing Jim by his arm and yanking him towards the back door. "Come on, Jim."

"I'm not running from him." Jim said, stiffening his body so you couldn't pull him away any further.

"No, Jim, seriously. We need to step outside. I know he's not saying it, but I've seen this before and we need to give him some space. Now."

"I think he's had enough space from us."

"Jim can you put your anger to the side for one minute and just listen. I know you're upset and you have every right to be, but please, let's just go outside and give Mike some space."

"Whatever." Jim sighed, softening up and letting you pull him away, but before you could even get the door open, Michael used his powers to lock all of them, cocking his head to the side.

"Shit..." you mumbled to yourself. Why did Jim have to be so angry? Why did Jim have to get himself riled up and then go get Michael riled up? How did you always end up in the middle of it?

"Attention." Michael spoke, shifting his stance. "That's what you wanted right? Some attention?" He looked at the both of you, annoyed that he wasn't answered right away. He glared at Jim. "Answer me!"

Both you and Jim still remained silent, knowing that if you gave Michael the wrong answer, he'd snap. But what you both failed to remember is that Michael above all, hates not being answered at all. With the snap of his fingers, both you and Jim were tied up to a dining chair, stripped of most of your clothing.

"Okay my little brats. Since no one wants to give me answer." Jim went to move his lips to say something, but Michael, with the use of his powers, kept him silent. Michael squatted down, taking his blade from his back pocket, gently rubbing it along Jim's skin causing Jim to shiver. Michael could see the fear in both of your eyes. He could smell it more than anything and boy did that give him a rush.

"What's wrong, Jim?" he asked, chuckling. "Satan's son got your tongue? Baby boy, if you wanted me to fuck you so bad, all you had to do was ask. I mean the answer would of been no, considering how terribly you've been behaving, but damn Jim, breaking my shit? Oof. That's an all new low for you. And now look, hmmm? I'm gonna have to break you, starting with that precious little mouth of yours. I could smell your horniness the moment I walked into the kitchen and hear the frustration as I listened to your thoughts."

"Oh and my lovely little Y/N." Michael continued, his sexy, sadistic gaze now falling onto you. "You thought you would get off free, didn't you? Mmmm, no baby, I could hear your thoughts too and feel your frustration. And I guess daddy is so sorry that he's been neglectful of his pups, but what daddy is not sorry for, is working to ensure that the correct people make it to this new world."

"Nonetheless, daddy is done working now, I suppose, since you know, his stuff was broken, so now he has no other choice, but to dish out some attention, yes?" Michael looked at his watch that now read 9:30PM. No, that's not the longest argument him and Jim ever had. In fact the longest argument was between the 3 of you, lasting 4 hours in total. "Wow and only 9:30? This is going to be so much fun." You and Jim shuffled around nervously, but aroused in your seats.

"You see. I'm going to spend the next 2 and a half hours and so on and so forth, ruining the both of you. And if you cum once, if you make a noise louder than the volume I set the TV, I'll be sure that the both of you regret it going into the New Year." Michael stood back up, his hard on, on full display for both you and Jim, turning on the dining room TV to whatever station they would be broadcasting the dropping of the ball tonight.

"We'll start with Y/N, since she's been somewhat decent tonight." Michael beamed.

And all for a little attention.

Taglist: @jimmason @angelicmichael @whatcodysaid

#cody fern #cody fern imagine #michael langdon #michael langdon imagine #michael langdon smut #jim mason #jim mason imagine #jim mason smut #michael langdon x reader #jim mason x reader #ahs apocalypse #tribes of palos verdes #new years

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daddychims · 4 years

Text

Offside Pt 8

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8

Series Masterlist!

Genre: Smut, Soccer AU, College AU

Pairings: Soccer Player! Jungkook X Sports Trainer! Reader

Word Count: 2k

Other BTS members all make a cameo as well because I’m an OT7 Trash!

You work as a sports trainer, providing basic first aid and injury management for the Hanguk University’s soccer team. Going with your mundane life of caring for the dozen of guys hurting themselves in the soccer game takes a turn when one of the guys catches your eyes. It’s not his breathtakingly good looks or his muscular athletic body usually seducing girls at the campus that catches your eyes. But the action plan in your kit, indicating he is diagnosed with Asthma is what draws your eyes time and time again to the Golden Boy of Hanguk University.

Warning: Slow burn, eventual smut, Taehyung being a freaking tease the whole time, Fuckboy!Jungkook, Asthmatic! Jungkook , mentions of episodes of Asthma, Take your Ventolin kids, Take your medications kids!

Your hands hesitate over the doorbell for a few seconds before finally pushing the button and hearing the melodic sound echoing.

"Coming!"

You hear a familiar voice that is different to the person you expect would be behind the wooden door and your suspicion is confirmed when the door opens to reveal the half naked guy standing across you.

"Kim Tae?"

"Heyyyy Sugar," He smirks, immediately reaching across and grabs you by the waist to pull you to his bare chest "Did you miss me so much?"

"What are you doing here?" you push past him inside the house with an annoyed tone

"You don’t need to be so low key about it babe," he smirks as he wraps his huge arm around your neck and pulls you closer again "I'm sure you heard I moved in with Jungkook." he hesitates as he leans closer to your ear "Isnt that why you came here?"

"Where is Jungkook?" you roll your eyes looking around the unnecessarily huge place “Im here to see him.”

"Jeon?" Tae asks furrowing his eyebrows "since when you're interested in Jeon?" he stands against the door with his arms across his chest

"I just have a homework I need to do," You state turning around to face him "Now do you wanna call him for me or should I walk around your house and find him myself?"

"What homework?" He raises an eyebrow "If you're talking about the type of homework at least 5 other girls rock up here every week, his bedroom is down the hallway on the left."

"Your brain is really wired like that huh?" You ask in an unimpressed tone "I just wanna have a conversation with him, I'll just wait in the living room."

"He's at the gym." he replies walking past you

"Which one?" You ask quickly rushing after him and grabbing his arm to get your answer "The one down the road?"

"Upstairs!" he rolls his eyes "The gym is upstairs!"

"You guys have a gym in your house?" You ask in surprise

"Jeon does," He shrugs "Now do you wanna wait in my room sugar? I'll go call Jeon for yo-. "

"No thank you," You immediately object "Where can I find him?"

He points at the stairs with a vicious smirk and you nod and make your way down the hallway, walking past the room with the daunting memories of Jihyo's birthday night. You remember how you almost turned to one of the girls Jeon boned in his senior year if you didn’t react quickly enough that night.

You shiver from the thought and walk up the stairs. When you stop and look up, your eyes widen at the sight of Jungkook sitting on a Lat Pulldown machine, with a girl straddling his lap.

You can only see the girl's back, specifically her purposely plump bottom spreading over Jungkook's lap.

You immediately look up at the guy who's staring back at the girl sitting across him, beads of sweat dripping down his thick neck, arm muscles flexing as he manipulates the weight up and down.

You gulp at the sight, immediately feeling a shiver running down your spine at the excessively lewd sight of the two.

You immediately regret not waiting downstairs and just letting Taehyung call him, his vicious smile now have a whole new meaning for you.

You're hesitating whether you should make your way down the stairs and pretend you've seen nothing when Jungkook's gaze stumbles on you and you make a momentary eye contact.

The weight snaps up with a loud thud as he releases his firm grip, immediately standing up and making the girl across his lap fall over.

Your eyes widen as you immediately turn around and make your way down the stairs. You're bearly reaching to the bottom when you hear his voice

"Wait,"

You pause and try to think of a way to escape facing Jungkook when you hear another voice

"What happened Sugar?" Taehyung shows up from the end of the hallway and looks at your blushing face "Weren't you looking for Jeon? He's right there." he points up at the top of the stairs with a mischievous smile, knowing exactly what you observed on the second floor.

You return an angry glare to Tae before turning around and watching Jungkook walk down the stairs "Jeon, I was looking for you."

"Yeah I just saw you," he mutters nodding his head in a confused manner "Why did you run away?"

You watch the guy in disbelief, wondering if he is acting dumb or he actually is dumb enough to not know why you avoided the situation.

"N-Nothing, I just thought you're busy, so didn’t wanna get in the way." you explain with an awkward smile "I can come back."

"No," he quickly objects "I'm not busy, Lets talk."

"Ooh, what is this tension I feel here," Tae smirks watching the two of you "Is something going on between you two?"

Jungkook clears his throat before reaching for your arm and muttering "Lets go."

You walk behind the guy without objection as you hear Tae in the background yelling "THAT’S NOT FAIR, YOU'RE COMING TO MY ROOM NEXT SUGAR ALRIGHT?"

You both ignore the guy's childish remark as you enter his room, Jungkook immediately closing and locking the door behind himself which makes you furrow your eyebrows in suspicion .

When he notices your reaction he immediately explains "There are quite a few people living here, I don’t want them to barge in."

You nod, placing your bag on his bed, setting your phone down on his mattress while you try to look for the item you came all the way here for.

"So why are you here?" He asks walking closer and sitting on the other end of his king sized bed

"I wanted to talk to you," you say while finally finding the green coloured journal and pulling it out of the bag "About this!"

You watch him spare a look at the journal, remembering the conversation you both had with Dr Kim the other day before scoffing and looking away from you "And I thought-" he pauses midway through his sentence before bringing his eyes to you and muttering "I already told Dr Kim that I'm not doing that."

"Jungkook you're being unreasonable," You scold in a stern tone "Its not like you'll lose anything by doing this. If anything this might actually help you perform better in the finale."

"It doesn’t matter," He sighs looking down at his knees "My lungs were fucked as long as I remember. Taking the medications doesn’t change anything."

"Are you really fine with being benched?" you ask softly

"I'm not gonna be benche-" he snaps back “Lets say I’ll be benched. Why does that matter to you anyways!?”

You stare back at him, the sudden question taking you off guard. Why does this matter to you so much. Why do you care if he’ll be benched because he doesn’t take his medication. You’re not even licensed and this is already far out of your scope of practice as a mere sports trainer for his team.

“I-“ You start the sentence before you think it through enough to complete it and immediately regret your decision “never mind,” you sigh stuffing the journal back in your bag "I just wanted to try my best." you say in an annoyed tone.

You quickly take the sachet full of the medications you received from the office reception earlier and place it in front of him on his bed "This is yours," you hesitated before adding "Up to you if you wanna take them or not, but if you changed your mind just let me know. If you decide that you wanna take the medications, I should check on you once a week and record your dosage intakes."

You pause for his response but after a few seconds of silence you sigh and shift on the bed to leave. You're about to climb down his bed when your phone lights up and attracts both you and Jungkook's attention.

"So when am I getting my next dose of neck massage Miss placebo effect?" -Jimin

"Maybe you can massage me somewhere else this time? ;)" -Jimin

You reach to grab you phone when Jungkook immediately reaches before you to read the text carefully.

"Hey, give me the phone back," You reach but the guy quickly hides it behind his back before staring right into your eyes

"I changed my mind." he states in a serious tone

"W-What?"

"Lets do this stupid journal or whatever it is," he said firmly "Instead I have a condition."

"Really?" He nods and your eyes immediately light up "What is the condition?"

"Block Park Jimin," he says through gritted teeth "No, I'll block him right now."

"J-Jungkook, What are you talking about?"

"If you block Park Jimin, I'll do the journal with you," He suggests " you can even check on my more than once a week if you want."

"You want me to block him?" you ask in a lost tone "Why?"

"Haven't you heard?" He clears his throat "We don’t let the anyone from Hanguk team hang around the SNU guys specially the girls. The fact that you're friends with Namjoon Hyung is already a massive issue."

"What?" you laugh "Is that a joke? I've never heard of such rule. How come no one ever mentioned that to me?"

"Its an unspoken rule," Jungkook says matter of factly "If anyone is involved with Hanguk team, they aren't allowed to hang around the SNU guys for the duration of seasonal games. Otherwise they might find out about our team tactics and strategies and that messes up our chance in the finals."

"I'm so confused," you blurt out looking at him in disbelief "so you're saying I would act like a whist blower and tell the other team about Hanguk team's training strategies?"

"I did not say that," he says defensively

"You implied it," you respond immediately

"I'm just saying, we all go weak after a good fuck and say things we might regret," he mutters unimpressed looking at you "so lets not risk it yeah?"

"I-I'm not fucking Jimin," you stutter "where did that come from?"

"I didn’t say you are," he says firmly "I'm just saying you might."

"S-So what If I wanna fuck him," you retort angrily "Aren't you all doing it anyways? Why is it only not allowed for me!"

"I simply choose my girls from our campus," he shrugs

"So if I shag anyone from our campus, its all good?!" you say mockingly

"It cant be that hard," he shrugs his shoulder "You have a whole football team to choose from, I'm sure Taehyung is not the one guy you give a boner to when you rub them in your duties."

"Jungkook-" you shudder at his lewd words "just stop talking please."

"Fine," he smirks watching your blushing cheeks, findings the flustered side of you amusing to watch "What do you say? Can I block him now?"

You look at him with suspicion before muttering "I'll check on you three times a week, plus the 2 training days I see you on the field."

"Fine," he sighs defeated "It’s a deal?" he brings the phone in front of him to continue with his task "What's your passcode?"

"W-Wait …" you reach for the phone hesitantly "I need to at least let him know-"

"No need," he rolls his eyes "he's probably texting 10 other girls simultaneously, he wont even notice."

"You must have a lot of experience," You raise an eyebrow as you enter your passcode and hand him the phone back

"Don’t compare me to that punk," he rolls his eyes "I don’t play girls."

"Oh really?" You scoff "I really hate to remind you but I just watched you dry humping someone in your gym, Jeon. What do you call that?"

"Incorrect, she was dry humping me" he replies unaffected "I was just doing my weekly arm workout."

"Wow," you shake your head in disbelief "you're something else."

He finally finishes his task, blocking Jimin from your phone before bringing his eyes to you "Why? Were you jealous?"

"W-What?" you laugh awkwardly thinking he's just messing around, but he just stares at you with his piercing gaze waiting for an answer "W-What do you mean?"

He shifts on the bed, closing the space between the two of you on the bed as he leans over to your face "Did you wanna be in her place?"

You look at him with wild eyes, not knowing why those words pool arousal between your legs. He stares into your eyes before shifting them to your lips and back to your eyes after a few seconds.

"Hmmm? Did you wanna hump my thighs like a dirty little girl?" he murmurs and his eyes darken in lust as he watches your lips quivering nervously against his lips "Is that what you want Y/N?"

You gulp, heart thumping against your chest as you feel another rush of arousal tainting your panties "J-Jeon-"

"You just need to ask nicely," He smirks, his hot breath fanning your lips "and you'll be over my thighs in a few seconds."

You stare back at him for a moment before finally pulling yourself together and muttering "I t-think we had this discussion before," you gulp trying to steady your voice as you quickly grab your bag and shift it over your shoulder "That I don’t wanna hook up with you."

You watch with surprise as his dark lustful eyes turn disappointed, but he quickly hides them by looking away from you and shifting back his body.

"I'll call you for the next weekly check, until then make sure you take the medications as prescribed."

You walk to his door and twist the doorknob but it doesn’t open. Only then you remember that he locked his door when you both entered the room.

You turn around to tell him to unlock the door when a gasp leaves your lips

"Jungkook," you breath out as he presses your body against the door and leans against your face again

"You sure?" he raises an eyebrow, his earlier dark gaze starting to settle back in between his lids again "that you haven't changed your mind since our last discussion?"

"I-oh" you part your lips but a breathy sound leaves your lips when you feel his hardness against your thighs and his smirk grows on the corner of his lips finally receiving the reaction he wants from you.

Hey everyone! Hope you're doing well!

I know its been SOOOO long since I updated this story!

but this self isolation is allowing me to get my life together and get back on some writing as well!

Hope you guys enjoyed the chapter!

I'll be back soon!

Love ya'll!

#Jeon Jungkook #Jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x female reader #jungkook x female reader #Jungkook x female mc #jungkook scenario #jungkook fuckboy #jeon jungkook x you #Jungkook smut #slowburn #bts smut #Jungkook is a fucking tease #jungkook soccer player #jungkook soccer au #jungkook soccer #jungkook athelete #daddychims

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