#while still staying true to what I think is the emotional core of the genre:
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
Villainess isekai as horror: your identity, your autonomy, your very own body is stolen and puppeteered by some unseen foreign entity. Not only do your loved ones fail to notice the change, they seem to genuinely prefer the copycat over the real you. Your entire existence was overwritten in a matter of seconds, and the worst part is, the world seems objectively better off for it.
#mmari rambles#mmari writes#plot bunnies#writing insp#I'm kind of brainstorming a sort of gothic horror story#told from the perspective of the villainess's sister#aka the only person who notices that their estranged sister was replaced by someone completely different#if I'm allowed to be overambitious I want to tackle themes such as: both modern and victorian era misogyny; what makes one a villainess;#critiques on the more problematic trends and clichés of the genre (misogyny racism colorism classism imperialism etc);#arranged marriages; mental asylums and sanatoriums and medical malpractice#while still staying true to what I think is the emotional core of the genre:#a deeply dissatisfied person who is so desensitized and alienated by their everyday life that they're numb to the fact they're unhappy#escapes the confines of their everyday life#and finds a place and people that they can build genuine human connection ( family; friends; lovers; children) with#my ocs#I mean someone (probably a better writer than me) has most likely already had this idea#but hopefully the hey! two cakes! principle applies here
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
DADDY ISSUES [Dawn] -9-
Pairing: JungKook & Reader Genre: Smut / Intriguing / Violent / Soapy / Fluff / Angst | +18 | Summary: You believe you know someone you live together but that only counts if they are true to themselves. Can love really change someone or do they just hold back? What if you are yet to meet the dark side? Will you stay to handle all that or will you walk away? Your love remains and you cannot forget. Worth more than anything, you just do whatever it takes to protect. ⟪A/N: Please do not copy or publish my work on other platforms without my permission. Every and each like & reblog are highly appreciated. ⟫ ⨳ DADDY ISSUES SUNSET -prequel- ⨳ ⨳ DADDY ISSUES DAWN other chapters ⨳ ⨳ DADDY ISSUES PLAYLIST ⨳
With gun right through your head, it felt like time froze momentarily. Though a few things happened. Yugyeom almost screamed in your ear since he lost your sight. One of your men had his gun through Min Ae's head, waiting for JungKook's or your order.
Silence taking over, everyone was waiting with their breath on hold. JungKook gestured with his head for him to put the gun down. Then he almost growled at Min Ae.
"I warn you for one last time."
Gun still directed at you Min Ae took a step to the side. Her empty hand reached for JungKook. As she slide her manicured nails from his chest to his abs, she chuckled.
"Brave for someone in chains. Sorry, we could not arrange a bed for us yet."
JungKook closed his eyes for a mere second, mentally cursing himself.
"Y/N"
JungKook wanted to explain himself but when he saw the way you stare at Min Ae he realized he did not need to do that. You were about to let Min Ae's witty remark get through you. Somehow the way your name fell from JungKook's lips reminded you that you were there for one thing. A smile bloomed on your lips that noone has ever seen before. You directed our gaze at Min Ae.
"Hands off, sly fox."
Smiling at you she took a step and got closer at JungKook. Min Ae still had the gun pointed at you while she planted a kiss on JungKook's chess. JungKook's dark gaze landed on her as he bit inside of his tongue out of rage. Upon seeing his clenched jaw you knew he was annoyed to the core.
You directed your gun at her then pulled down the safety. Staring at you with wide eyes it took a few seconds for Min Ae to pull herself together. She put on a fake smirk to seem confident.
"You know... We both will die in this case."
Still dead serious your eyes never left her.
"Does it look like I care? Now, back off."
JungKook's eyes were watching you both in stress and awe. Heart pounding in his chest, he tried to show no sign of emotion. If he ever did, crazy as she was, Min Ae could actually hurt you. What he did not realize that Min Ae was actually scared. She took two steps back, still holding her gun up against you. She made a simple gesture thinking you would not get it. Before the buff bodyguard could reach you, you pulled your wide trousers up.
"I would not do that."
Seeing the bomb on you JungKook could not hold himself back anymore. For the first time maybe his voice cracked as your name fell from his lips.
"Y/N, take that thing off."
Much to his surprise, your gaze met with his while a small smile bloomed on your lips.
"Not before I get you out of here."
He raised his voice out of concern and anger.
"Y/N!"
Though your focus was on Min Ae which led you ignoring JungKook's warning. A man tried to get closer to you only to be shot by someone from your team. Then hell broke lose. Two men held you by your arms while Min Ae yanked the gun off of your hand. Watching them roughly grabbing you Jungkook was boiling inside. Because of his harsh pulling the cuffs digged into his flesh leaving bruises all over. A big hand slapped you roughly on the cheek while another pair went for the explosives. However your words stopped him in an instant.
"If you try to take it of, it will blow. If you try to deactivate it will blow. Only I can stop it."
Men were fighting all around. Gun powder and curses already fillled the air as you heard someone screaming.
"Check on Mrs. Jeon."
Min Ae smiled while she grabbed your hair then she pushed you down on the ground.
"You will not blow up this place while JungKook is here. Nice try though."
You managed to click your in ear piece in an instant.
"Free him from chains."
You said while Min Ae watched and heard you clearly. You hoped Yugyeom to react quickly but nothing happened. Instead the metal door exploded in the loudest way. You covered your head so the pieces around would not harm. Min Ae was beside you on the ground while coughing.
Before anyone could make sense of what happened Yugyeom's eyes landed on you. Eyes meeting for a moment, he held your shoulder with both hands. Yugyeom slowly helped you up from the ground as he grabbed his gun back. Making your way towards Jungkook, you saw a man behind him with a knife. Eyes locked on you the girthy bodyguard shouted.
"Take it off or he dies."
JungKook's eyes were on you as well. He spoke with a dull yet stern voice.
"Y/N... Take it off and leave."
You saw his dark eyes almost begging you to save yourself. Your heart heavy in your chest you shook your head. Then he gestured Yugyeom to take you out. When you did not move the buff man slightly moved his knife. You saw the blood dripping somewhere around JungKook's collarbone. Feeling helpless, you took two steps away. You turned around but you were not going to leave. Not when the only reason you came here to save him. You were not going to watch him die for you.
"You take the man, I take the chains."
You were not even sure if he heard you since your voice was even lower than a whisper. Yugyeom's wide eyes landed on you as if you were out of your mind. Then he saw your pleading stare.
"Damn it Y/N... He will kill me."
You paid Yugyeom one last stare to convince and thankfully it worked. When he sighed with a
"Fine."
After three nods as counts, you took a deep breath and turned around. Eyes on the closest chain you tried your best aim. When it hit ground JungKook caught the knife right away. Then you took your aim for chain on the left. JungKook was completey free while the buff bodyguard was already shot at his neck by Yugyeom.
His warm blood was all over JungKook's face but did not even phase him at all. JungKook just stared down the big body laying down beside his feet. Then drifted his attention back to the cuffs that were still on his wrists.
The keys were on the ground a few steps away. He closed the distance to get them but he noticed it. The metal shined in Min Ae's hand. She directed it at him which he smirked back. Then her hand shifted to your side.
JungKook stepped in but her hand shook before she could fire the small gun. JungKook grabbed Min Ae by the hair then yanked it from her hands harshly. JungKook grabbed her arm while dragging Min Ae toward you. He stopped right before you and forced Min Ae on her knees. She shrugged her shoulders and gave you a repelling look to seem confident. JungKook handed you the gun he grabbed from her.
"Go ahead doll."
Eyes wide you stared at him for a second then you gaze shifted at Min Ae. Who were on her knees in her now ruined fancy dress and smudged make up. Your silence became dreadful to her. Also, JungKook was impatient right by your side.
"Fine... I will do it."
Was what he said while he grabbed your hand to fire the gun. Reacting faster than you expected, you put your free hand on his large fingers.
"I want her alive."
Both JungKook and Yugyeom were in disbelief so you had to repeat.
"I want her alive."
After an displeased low grunt, JungKook finally dropped his hand. Min Ae eyes never left your figure while you crouched down to speak to her.
"Do not expect me to thank you."
She still tried to provoke you to end things for some reason. When she met with your small smirk, Min Ae seemed taken aback. After a low chuckle, the venomous words fell from your lips.
"No need... because you will wish I would never have saved you."
You roughly grabbed her wrist and put her back on her feet. Staring right into her eyes you plucked the little key from her brachelet. You unlocked the cuffs that were still on JungKook's wrists. The first thing he did was pulling you in and wrapped his arms around you while sniffling your hair.
When your eyes drifted back to disstressed look on Min Ae's face, you gestured Yugyeom for the cuffs he had attached to his belt. You put Min Ae's wrists together and cuffed them with a devilish gaze on your eyes. You grabbed her hair, forcing her to walk before you.
"Take her to the mansion."
YugYeom gave you a simple nod. He grabbed Min Ae by her arm then stopped for a second. Eyes briefly landed on your thigh.
"Y/N..."
You could see YugYeom was worried about the forgotten explosives. You were about to reassure him but an unexpected reaction from JungKook caught your attention. His eyebrow shot up when he called you by your first name and reached right away.
"JungKook will take care of it."
YugYeom handed car keys and a loaded gun at JungKook.
"Just in case."
JungKook's tense expression calmed down. He gave Yugyeom a little bump. Yugyeom was already leaving with Min Ae as she threw a dark yet tired gaze at your side. JungKook's eyes caught a man moving. Eyes never leaving you, JungKook pulled the trigger with a poker face. The man screamed in agony then fell back .
Your softly spoke to deactivate the explosive. JungKook crouched in front of you as his long fingers gently took it off. He slowly left it on the ground. Before any other enemy could move JungKook's voice filled the air.
"Leave!"
A few wounded man got up with the help of others. Caughing or groaning they kept walking. JungKook took a look around the storehouse to make sure noone was left behind. He locked his fingers to yours.
"Activate countdown"
JungKook gave you a menacing smirk while you walked out the big rusty door. Since a couple of minutes were all you have got, you rushed to the dark grey car waiting by the road. JungKook opened the door for you and made his way to the driver's seat. When he just began driving you heard the loud explosion. Heart beating fast in your chest, you watched the flames through the rear mirror.
Both of you were covered in blood and dust but you could not help with the small smile on your lips. The way you were about to lose him made you realize one thing. No matter who he was, no matter how you broke each other countless times you could never give up. As if he read your mind, JungKook gave you a different smile. A crooked smile of a tired yet happy winner. Before your mind caught up with your words, they fell from your lips.
"I love you, JungKook. I am sorry... "
JungKook's dark eyebrow shot up while the corner of his lip curled up.
"Sorry for what?"
Struggling with words, you did not know you needed none. JungKook already knew. Already knew because he felt the same without you... Incomplete.
"I should have never walked away."
JungKook intertwined your fingers.
"And I should have never stopped chasing. We both messed up."
You were surprised at the short yet noticable laughter leaving your lips. JungKook hesitantly reached for your belly. His warm finger went across for a brief moment. Then the question fell heavy on you like the thickest fog.
"Why did you believe me?"
Evidently, that question took JungKook off guard. He cleared his throat and you thought you were in trouble, instantly. His hand on your belly was back on the wheel as JungKook locked his eyes on the road again.
"I knew something was up that night you came back. I was fooled."
Eyes still on him, you kept your eyes on him.
"I did not deserve this trust, JungKook."
A sigh left his mouth. You could not tell if it was discomfort or relief though his velvety yet low voice reassured you.
"Yes, you did things that I hated but you never lied to me, Y/N."
Then his expression changed. His eyes were peeking a car that followed you. In a few second JungKook spotted the driver. Much to his surprise it was his father's best man.
"What the heck is going on here?"
Next Chapter
#jungkook#jungkook story#jungkook fic#jungkook x you#jungkook x oc#jungkook x reader#jungkook smut#jungkook angst#jungkook romance#bts story#bts#bts fic#bts x you#bts x reader#bts x oc#bts smut#bts romance#bts angst#bts fiction#jungkook fiction#fiction#story#romance#jeon jungkook#daddy issues
123 notes
·
View notes
Text
My First Xianxia
Hello there my dreamies! I came up with that name, dreamies, to call my readers, what do you think? It sounds cute.
I recently watched a Xianxia for the first time because an online friend recommended it to me. I’ve always loved fantasy, and this genre seemed to have something I’d enjoy. Xianxia means “a fantasy TV genre based on Chinese mythology and the concept of chivalrous spirit”, literally meaning “immortal heroes”.
The name of this Xianxia is The Last Immortal.
THE LAST IMMORTAL - BASIC INFORMATION
Episodes: 40 (45 mins)
Release dates: Dec 11, 2023 - Jan 4, 2024
Genres: Romance, Wuxia, Drama, Fantasy
In a world full of wonder and enchantment, Feng Yin, a female spirit, sets out on a journey to collect the pieces of her scattered immortal essence while navigating the complexities of her true identity. Accompanying her on this quest is Gu Jin, the son of the "true god", whose magical powers have been sealed, making their relationship all the more intricate.
Once master and servant, their dynamic transforms amidst personal challenges. They begin to develop a deep connection that suggests the potential for a stronger bond. As their fates become intertwined, Feng Yin and Gu Jin embark on a transformative journey to retrieve her immortal essence, fueled by admiration and trust.
(Source: mydramalist)
REVIEW - NO SPOILERS
I watched it in one week. 40 episodes. I’ve never watched a drama so fast in my entire life. I have not uploaded last week’s Thursday’s blog because I needed to finish this drama to talk about it.
The characters in the story were exceptionally well-crafted. Usually, I tend to like the male lead characters more, but in this particular case, it was the female lead character that caught my attention. At the start of the story, she appears cute and charming. She is shown as a weak character due to her low power. However, her personality is so strong that she sets what’s right and wrong clearly in her mind, and is determined to do the right thing, even if it means facing the consequences.
The male lead in the show was amazing. He is very loving and caring towards everyone around him, to the extent that he would even sacrifice his own existence just to ensure their happiness and well-being. Although he initially appears to be a foolish character, as the show progresses, he emerges as an even stronger character.
The supporting characters are incredibly well-developed, each with their own unique personalities that mesh perfectly with the story.
One of my favorite parts of the drama is the character development.
In regards to the romantic relationship, there are not many physical actions involved. Nevertheless, their connection is incredible and their way of loving each other is very passionate and dramatic, sometimes even shocking.
The world-building was amazing. Everything was stunning, and though the story of the immortals was initially hard to understand, it was very captivating.
REVIEW - SPOILERS
I would like to share my thoughts on two memorable scenes that I came across in dramas. For me, a drama that has iconic scenes that stay with you forever is what makes it memorable. The first scene that truly touched my heart was when Qing Yi destroyed Cloud Condensing Mountain, which was Ah Yi’s home. She was deeply hurt and sad, and her cries felt so real that it made me cry too.
Later, Qing Yi planned to seal her immortal bones, but unfortunately, her immortal core was already damaged, which meant that she would end up being killed. When Qing Yi found out about this, he ran towards her to stop it, but it was too late. In a state of shock, he hugged her tightly as she disappeared right before his eyes.
The scene hurt a lot, it created a lot of emotions in me, and I still remember the huge impact it had on me. The effect of that scene was so significant that it stayed with me long after I had watched it.
In the second scene, Feng Yi discovers all that Qing Yi had done for her. She tells him that they should forget about everything that happened. Qing Yi asks her what they should forget, referring to the moments when she ignored him and the hurt she felt because of him, or all the loving moments they spent together. In response, she kissed him in a beautiful moment that made me want to shout, "Finally!"
I really enjoyed watching the drama, but I was a bit disappointed with the ending. The drama was full of intense emotions, but the ending felt plain and lackluster. Although I appreciated the significance of the pear blossom tree forest scene, where the male lead was revived, I was hoping for a more satisfying conclusion. I expected the couple to at least hug each other, but they just looked at each other, leaving me wanting more.
RATING
Characters: 10
Plot / world-building: 10
Music: 10
Acting: 10
Ending: 7.5
Overall: 9.5
1 note
·
View note
Text
Disrespected Devil
Wordcount: -4K
Lucifer x F!Reader
Summary: When you disrespect the demon king, Lucifer is forced to say goodbye to you.
Genre: Angst, smutt, slight fluff, but tbh just angst
A/N: So another first. Not only my first time writing for the Obey me fandom (I have a major Obey me brain rot), but also my first time writing angst and I felt depressed after finishing this (which I did a second ago). I love Diavolo, but I needed a reason for the goodbye to happen so even if his dad is the villain, he is the one to execute it... Hope you enjoy this story.
Warning: NSFW, mentioning of being paralyzed I guess.
‘’What’s with Luci today?’’ ‘’He looks more pissed of than usual…’’ ‘’He probably listened to classical music too long and forgot his homework.’’ ‘’Lucifer forgetting his homework will never happen, but if it did he would look like this.’’ Hearing all those whispers during dinner time is nothing new for you. Tonight is different though. You know why he’s mad and you know who’s the blame. But it’s not as if you don’t have a reason to be just as upset. As dinner slowly ends you know there is only a small gap to avoid a situation. ‘’Beel, how about we go bake something for later this evening?’’ You say, as you cling onto the huge redhead. You know that food is a trigger and you know that this is the way to hide from HIM. ‘’Alright, sounds delicious!’’ He doesn’t seem to notice the way you hold onto him for dear life and the same goes for the others. Clearly, they’ve gotten so used to you that it’s not even necessary to be by your side 24/7. It’s not as if they know tonight will be the last time they see you. It’s a small moment of weakness and you feel your heart clench by the thought of leaving those boys. It’s enough to make you lose your grip on Beel's arm. Enough to bend over, because it physically hurts to leave them behind and enough for Lucifer to finally notice you and come to your aid. ‘’Beel, I think she ate something wrong. No cake tonight, I will see her to her room.’’
And with that, he scoops you up and takes you upstairs. Of course, your room is not an option. It’s way too close to the other rooms. No place to yell. No, Lucifer’s room is soundproof. Made for his nights spent with loud classical music and also made for the occasional screaming match with one of his brothers. As he enters the room, he carefully puts you down on his bed. ‘’Are you feeling alright, Y/n?’’ He says as he lays his palm against your forehead. The feeling of sadness is gone, already replaced by nerves. You know what’s coming. You know you won’t hold back. Will this be your last fight with Lucifer? The question never makes it to the surface, because the moment you nod your head in ensurement, Lucifer opens his mouth. ‘’Good, because you have no idea how foolish you acted today.’’ As mentioned before this room reminds you of the occasional screaming matches he must’ve had with his brothers, but never with you. Pissing Lucifer off is easy. You’ve done that plenty of times. Even made him show his true form, but making him scream, that is something you never achieved. Still, it is worth the try. Tonight is your last chance. As you get up you take a look at his face. What faces you is the cold expression he usually shows when he’s done with someone’s bullshit. The expression you have already mirrored back to him. ‘’So you are going to ignore me?’’ I’m not going to answer him. ‘’Are you serious?’’ I am not going to say a word. ‘’Should I spell out what you did?’’ Don’t say a thing. ‘’You just signed your death certificate.’’ His voice cracks and even though it’s far from the scream you aimed for. It’s still the first sign of emotion from the man you care about so much. ‘’Diavolo didn’t seem upset by what I said?!’’ You can’t help but talk louder. especially after being silent for the past few minutes. ‘’ As if he is going to kill me? ME?! And ruin the bonds that are being formed with the humans?’’
You can feel the tears in your eyes, this fight might’ve been about you being disrespectful in some way, but for you it was different. All this time getting closer with all the brothers. All this time loving them. All this time being there for them. It made you realize that the only one who made it difficult was him. With every step getting closer to each other; there were always a few steps back. An obsession with keeping up appearance, an obsession over a promise he would keep no matter what, an obsession with being a stuck-up asshole; That was Lucifer in a nutshell for you. And still, you couldn’t help being drawn to him. As a moth drawn to a flame. Even when the flame could easily kill the moth. Just as easily Lucifer could kill you. And it’s not as if he hadn’t tried that before. ‘’Y/n, You disrespected his father. I had to bargain for you to even leave the castle. The first time I trusted you enough to take you with me alone. And this is how you behave? You know what he wanted to do to Belphegor…’’ You know this story is his weakness. The reason he ended up becoming the lapdog of his so-called best friend. Still, it only makes you more upset to hear him say it. Even when you can hear the slightest hint of emotion in his voice; his eyes stay just as cold as usual. ‘’He is your best friend, isn’t he? He is my friend too, right? You always do this Lucifer! You always get mad over things and it never solves anything. You get mad at me for having fun. You get mad at me for trying to help. You get mad at me for trying to get closer to you. You don’t share things with me! Maybe Diavolo should’ve locked me up. Might as well get myself killed; it’s not as if you never tried to kill me…’’ Your voice is loud as you speak, but his silence is louder. He just stares at you and then it happens.
It’s not that you’re scared you’ve seen his true form before. It’s just as beautiful as him, but it’s also something that happens when he’s full of rage, just as that one time he tried to kill you. You can feel yourself freeze under his gaze. You can feel yourself moving away from him until you reach the headboard of his bed. Still, he moves closer. Until his lips are inches away from your ears. No screams, only whispers; what a way to say goodbye. ‘’DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA OF WHAT IS EVEN GOING ON?!’’ You are so shocked by the volume of his voice, the bass it carries, that it takes some time to realize he has more to say. Your ear is beeping as he moves his lips away and locks his gaze onto you. ‘’DIAVOLO IS NOT THE FUCKING PROBLEM, Y/N, HIS DAD IS. YOU INSULTED THE KING OF DEVILDOM IN FRONT OF HIS SON AND MULTIPLE WITNESSES. DIAVOLO CAN’T DO SHIT ABOUT THAT.’’ Only now do you notice the way his hands are gripping your arms; The way his expression has changed from cold to almost desperate. ‘’That guy has only been able to do what his dad wanted. Our friendship is real, but if his father told him to kill me, he would do it without hesitation. Do you really think he would think twice about killing you? IF HE WOULD KILL ME -HIS BEST FRIEND- IN AN INSTANT?” You notice the tears in his eyes. Lucifer is screaming and crying, but this isn’t a win. Before your heart breaks again, his arms are around you and his face is hidden in your neck, but that doesn’t stop the words. ‘’I had to send you away. I had to be cold. They know I care about you, but not to this extent. I had to pretend it was for the sake of the bonds. After you left I had to beg on my knees for your survival. I had to beg. The avatar of pride begged someone on his knees. It was all Lillith over again…’’
There is nothing you can say to fix this. It might’ve slipped your mind while you were there. But you were surrounded by royalty. What might’ve seemed innocent for you, was clearly a lot for them and now you had to leave everyone you loved behind. You can feel the tears fall from your eyes. “I’m sorry Luci, I truly am.” It won’t help, but it’s the least you can say as you look up into his eyes. He is still in his true form, but even with his wings all spread out, he has never looked more vulnerable. There is a sad smile on his lips as he caresses your cheek. “I know you are, you fool.” He says with no trace of the rage he had before. “ I don't want to leave you all…I don't want to leave you!” You know that you sound like a small child that already knows he lost and that’s exactly what you feel like. “It’s too late for that now, Y/n. Diavolo gave me tonight to say my goodbyes.” You try to distract yourself by focusing on his raven colored wings. “So that means I can’t say goodbye to the rest…” The pain is back. Never being a fool with Mammon, never dressing up with Levi, doing make-up with Asmo, reading books with Satan, eating with Beel or sleeping with Belphie. You can’t help but grab your chest again. “Are you okay?” Lucifer is supporting you within seconds as he asks the question. “No I’m not, but atleast I get to say goodbye to you.” And as you look up he leans in and gives you a tiny peck on the lips. “I’ve wanted to do that for quite some time.” He lets out. You can’t help but smile as you pull him back towards you. “Let's make it a proper goodbye then.” You whisper as you pull him back to your lips.
It’s not like it’s your first kiss with Lucifer, but it’s the last and that’s what makes it so much more special. It’s the combination of mutual sadness and desperation, the hint of rage still brewing somewhere deep inside the both of you. He knows your body, the way it will arch when he pushes you all the way down onto the bed. The tiny gasps when he starts kissing your neck. The way you look away when he starts kissing all the way down your body. ‘’Please keep looking at me, dear. I want you to see how much I am going to miss you.’’ It’s enough to make your heart flutter, the way he starts to attack your core with his tongue right away. It’s obvious he is in a hurry, but even with all the sadness, it’s the best way there is. You can’t help your moans; You’re lucky his room is soundproof. He’s fast, maybe too fast, but with everything that’s going on, it’s the best you can get. And that’s what it is. The best, because within a few minutes you can feel yourself starting to reach that point. The knot in your stomach tightens. your hands end up in his hair and with one loud moan, you erupt around him.
‘’I know that Mammon claims he was your first… in multiple ways… and not to discredit my brother, but I intend to be your last in all of them.’’ He says as he looks at you while he licks his lips. Him saying those words, the way he just made you lose your mind. It feels good, after all the fighting, teasing, kisses and losses , you’re with the man you love. You don’t want to ruin the mood. You’re really trying, but the moment you hear yourself thinking about loving him, about leaving him, about leaving his brothers, you just break. The tears start to form in your eyes and as you try to wipe them away you feel something on your arms. Lucifer. His eyes are cold again as he moves up to face you. ‘’Don’t hide your tears. I am just as sad.’’ He takes a long look at you, lets out a sign, and lays next to you as he caresses your back. ‘’I don’t want to play the ‘’Who has it worse’’ game, truly, I don’t want to, but in all the years I’ve been in heaven and hell, you’re the first human to have ever make my blood boil. Both from nerves and anger nonetheless, but losing you. Losing the one that made my family whole, the one that makes me feel all these emotions, the one that I love, hurts.’’ You can’t help but raise your brow. when he notices your expression he lets out a laugh.
You feel his hand grab your chin and suddenly your lips are only inches apart. ‘’I know you love me, Y/n. I’ve always known. Falling for you, was what surprised me.’’ You can’t help, but roll your eyes at him. Trying to ignore the way his hand feels on your back. The way it slowly moves it’s way to your hips. ‘’You know I do love all your brothers quite a lot too…’’ You say with all the confidence you have left. ‘’I know you do, but still I am the one that has you laying here. Practically begging for more.’’ He let’s out a chuckle as he pulls you closer. ‘’Let’s end this conversation, there’s not enough time.’’ And with that he’s on top of you. You know there isn’t much time, but when he starts to unbotton his shirt it’s as if time slows down. Of course he notices your looks and can’t help to give you a sly smirk. ‘’Don’t worry your next.’’ Is all he says as he takes his shirt off and starts tugging on yours. After your shirt is taken off he takes a look at your body and all you see is adoration on his face. ‘’I want to see all of you.’’ It makes your body flutter. ‘’You’re absolutely breathtaking.’’ He whispers. All this praise makes you feel weak. You try to grab his face, but as you put your arms up they fall down. You feel weak. Not because of his words, but something else. You see Lucifers expression change, the adorations is switched to concern, then back to concentration and before you know it he scoops you in his arms and makes you straddle him.
He’s looking at you, but not really. Obviously talking to himself. ‘’He wanted to be sure…’’ And as he says it he’s back. Back to giving you a sad smile. ‘’What’s going on?’’ Is all you let out. Is all you can let out, as you feel your body weighing more and more. He notices you getting weaker, making sure your settled between him and the headboard of the bed, before he speaks again. ‘’I think it’s time… Barbatos must’ve cast a spell… something that gave us a time limit. The probably knew it would be hard saying my goodbyes to you. Now I’m forced to make haste, just to make sure you’re safe.’’ You can’t even respond. You can move, but barely and all you can do is watch as Lucifer grabs his shirt. As he moves away from you, you’re sure of it. No this is not the way we’re going to say our goodbyes. It needs to be on our terms. Of course those words never leave your lips, but with all the power you have you reach out to him and as he looks back you let out a: ‘’No...not like this.’’ And maybe it’s the few words you’ve spoken, or the way your arm is trembling from all the power it takes to hold on to him, but he crawls back to you. His face is right above yours and if it’s not your eyes making it obvious what you want, you’re mouth will do. ‘’Take me…’’ It’s not a lot of words, but with the face you’re making and the fact that you guys were just in the middle of it, it doesn’t take much guessing. You can see that he’s thinking about it, obviously worried for you, but you can see his eyes change the moment it clicks.
His wings ar still there and you wished you could touch them, feel them one last time, but you should be lucky by what you can still get.’’I used to be a rebel, so why not know.’’ He laughs quietly before he lays you flat on your back. ‘’I’m going to take care of you my love, promise me to let me know when it’s too much or when you want to stop.’’ You nod your head and you know that your eyes tell him all he needs to know. How bad you want him, how even when you were able to just talk normally, you would want this goodbye to be said only in silence. His body is hovering over yours, his hand touching your neck, giving you goosebumps. ‘’Does this feel nice?’’ he whispers as his hands move towards your breasts. You can only let out a tiny gasp and that tells him enough. ‘’I wish we had more time…’’ Is all he says as his finger enters your core. The moan that escapes you is loader then the both of you would’ve expected. As he continues to stretch you out with one hand, his other starts to prep his cock. ‘’Wish I could… do that for you.’’ You manage to say. You can’t keep your eyes from him. The way he’s hovering over you. His finger inside of you and the way you can’t do anything except for your stares, moans and gasps. ‘’All I want is to feel you right now, my love.’’
And with that he places the tip right in front of your entrance. He makes sure your faces are only inches apart and as he slowly slides into you, his arms make there way to your sides. He’s holding you as he bottoms out in you and the only thing you can do is let out a long moan. He starts moving slowly, tender, putting all his love in every trust. He’s the only one speaking from time to time. ‘’I love you’s’’ and ‘’You feel so good’ s’’ are filling the room. All that praise, all the love in his eyes. The fact that he’s not only literally hitting all your spots, but also the spots in your mind, is what does it for you. You feel yourself unravel under him. You’re so close, that you start to tear up. Your eyes are filled with tears, mostly because of how good this feels, the fact that you’re making love on stolen time, but also because the time is probably running out soon. Lucifer never increases his speed. When he notices your tears he quickly wipes them away and as his hand caresses your swollen cheek he whispers: Don’t cry, my love, let us enjoy these last moments.’’ And just as he is about to give you a kiss on the lips you whisper a soft ‘’Love you Lucifer.’’ You notice his eyes being red as well and it’s devastating, but it feels so good. the way he keeps a steady pace has you reaching your peak and these final ‘’I love you’s’’, the final kisses is all you need to feel yourself tightening around him. He’s close too, because the moment he feels you tighten around his cock he gives you one firmer stroke and that’s all he needs to cum inside of you. He falls next to you and quickly takes you in his arms. ‘’I wish we could stay like this forever. I would sell my soul… but I guess in some way my soul has already been sold.’’ And all you can do is give him a sad smile before your eyes close.
Lucifer knew that it was time. You were starting to feel cold, too cold. After putting on some clothes and making sure you were fully clothed, he grabbed the coin Barbatos had given him. ‘’Use this before the time runs out.’’ So he had warned him for the curse. He knew he couldn’t be mad at his friends. He couldn’t be mad at you, he could only blame himself. He had shown his weakness by loving you. But you loved his brothers, loved him, despite all he stood for, without any shame. And even with the way it felt like he was going to lose you forever, it still meant the world he had the honor of getting to know you. The moment the coin was thrown a portal started to form and as he grabbed your cold body the darkness swallowed the two of you. As he opened his eyes he saw nothing, but darkness. It took a few minutes to notice that he was in a room. It must’ve been yours, because he noticed a picture of you next to a bed. He was going to take the picture, he was a rebel after all. As he tucked you in, he was at a loss for words. So all he could do was give you one last kiss on the forehead. Not being able to stop the tears falling from his eyes. ‘’Goodbye, my love…’’ and as the darkness was about to swallow him, he couldn’t help but leave one more thing behind. A raven feather, just for good measure. Returning to the Devildom was going to be almost as hard as leaving you here. He was once again going to be the villain in yet another story… the story of how he lost you.
You wake up to sunlight. Too much of it. Why aren’t your curtains closed? Wait, you have to get out of bed, it’s your turn to cook for everyone. Everyone? You live by yourself… right? It feels like you had a weird dream, but you can’t remember it. All you feel is sadness. As if you’ve lost something or someone important. The pain hits you so hard that the moment you try to stand your legs give out and you lay on the ground as tears fill your eyes. It hurts, but you don’t know why. As your hands try to find some grip to get up, you feel something soft. A feather. A raven black feather. It’s weird, but it feels comforting. Before you can help yourself, your lips are already on it and even when you should be grossed out by it, you plan to cherish the little trinket...
#Obey me#obey me shall we date#lucifer#obey me smut#obey me angst#obey me fluff#Lucifer x mc#lucifer x reader#lucifer x you#lucifer x y/n#obey me diavolo#obey me barbatos#obey me mammon#obey me beelzebub#obey me belphegor#obey me leviathan#obey me satan#obey me solomon#obey me simeon#obey me luke
212 notes
·
View notes
Text
Shield (one-shot)
Synopsis: To the new Captain America she might just be a human shield. But Bucky can see there’s more to it. What he can’t understand is why she stays.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader
Genre: angst, lil bit of fluff
Warnings: mentions of blood and guns, swearing, torture, low mental state etc.
Word count: 3591
I am going absolutely feral about the fact that a portion of the series takes place in Latvia as I am Latvian :D Just seeing the signs and streets (which are not really ours cause they filmed in Prague, but are similar enough I can envision it), especially because we’re such a small country is amazeballs, so to be in such a huge show with my MCU faves is insane. Had the same kind of reaction to Brooklyn Nine-Nine with Nikolaj and the Captain Latvia episode. Riga hammer for the win :D
P.S. John Walker is not Captain America cause he does not posses America’s ass. Also Zemo is one hundred percent Bucky’s and Sam’s sugar daddy. I won’t accept any dispute over this.
P.S.S. please also remember - John Walker is a character not a real person. John Walker is played by an actor who is doing his job the same way the actor who played Joffrey did. Do not harass him etc. but rather appreciate the insane talent he has. This place is a Wyatt Russell stan place.
P.S.S.S. Kinda spoilers for the show so if you haven’t seen it, don’t read this.
He hated him. Bucky genuinely hates him. He never thought he had despised something or someone so much, not even HYDRA, as much as he hated John Walker – the new Captain America. He wanted to scream at that, at the fact that this arrogant asshole was carrying Steve’s shield, the symbol of freedom and everything good, while in reality, he embodied none of what it stood for.
Walker and what he’d learned his sidekick was Battlestar, had swooped in from a helicopter while Sam and he had been following the Flag-Smasher vehicles, and, well, they hadn’t been a lot of help, which he shouldn’t be too surprised about. But what he had been surprised about was when they’d all been thrown off of the semi-trucks and scattered all around a field, someone else had been in the mix as well.
A young woman with Y/H/C hair and determined Y/E/C eyes was rushing towards them, screaming for them to stay on the ground. When Bucky looked behind, he could see why given how one of the radicalised people had jumped from the trucks and was barreling at them with an automatic cocked at them
But it wasn’t Walker who jumped up running past her, shield at the ready to take on the fire. No. He just remained sitting as the stranger kept her pace. She leapt at the two with a grace of a cat, pushing him and Sam back to the ground and immediately got blown back by the received ammunition, gasps leaving her mouth as the bullets entered her body.
Sam’s wings extended and created a body length shield as Bucky snatched one of the knives strapped to the man’s side and flung it with deadly accuracy into the Flag-Smasher’s neck, dropping him to the ground.
There was blood when he looked back. There was so much blood, and once again it was all over Bucky’s hands, and he couldn’t breathe properly, pressing down on her abdomen and shoulder and side, and. oh god, there were too many bullet wounds...
Two wide Y/E/C eyes stared back up at him, mouth gasping down shallow breaths as he held down on her wounds trying to stop the blood from pouring out. God, there was so much of it.
“Don’t close your eyes,” he gritted, his body trembling. “Well get you help. You’ll be alright.”
But then Walker spoke up, and Bucky saw read because of a different reason. “She’s fine, just leave it.”
His head snapped to see that arrogant bastard cross his arms as he hissed. “Leave it? She’s fucking bleeding out! She took those bullets for you, and you just want to leave it?!”
Walker just smirked, nudging his chin towards her body. “You’ll see.”
“You let her use herself as a shield while you did nothing!”
“Yeah,” he scoffed. “Because that’s her whole point.”
And that’s when Bucky felt her skin shift underneath his hands. Slowly the blood stopped pouring out, Y/N’s breathing evened, and her eyes closed not because death was calling, but because of relief as the regenerative cells kicked into high gear.
Bucky gazed in wonder as the wounds closed up, and when only scar tissue remained he snapped his blue eyes to her, Y/E/C ones already staring back at him.
“Who are you?” he whispered
“A human shield that’s what,” Walker answered in her stead, but Bucky just sneered.
“I asked who, not a what. She’s a fucking person.”
Once more he looked back down and saw a strange look in her eyes. It was as if she was trying to decipher what those words meant, but once the shock from such a huge assault had ended, she gulped down a breath and gave him a crooked smile. “I’m Y/N Y/L/N.”
A lopsided one came to grace his own face. “I’m James Buchanan Barnes, but you can call me Bucky.”
“Bucky.” Her eyebrow rose. “Well, it’s very nice to finally meet you.”
He smiled at her, and not the painful smile he’d given the senator before her arrest, but a real genuine smile, one that made the skin around his eyes crinkle.
“And it’s very nice you didn’t decide to die on us.”
“Yeah, yeah, can we cut this meet and greet shorter?” Walker interrupted them, and if Bucky hadn’t been holding onto Y/N’s shoulder as she tried to rise from the ground, he would’ve punched the guy.
“I told you she was going to be fine.”
Bucky threw him his best murder glare but stopped when he felt Y/N squeeze his hand as if saying ‘don’t bother.' His brows furrowed in confusion. She just shook her head.
“We should still find you a hospital.” He talked to Y/N directly, ignoring what the new Captain was saying. “It doesn’t matter that you can survive something like that, I’d rather make sure you’re checked out by professionals.
“It won’t be necessary.” Walker slipped the shield on his arm and nudged his partner to start walking with him, pretty much expecting the rest to follow. “It was her choice anyway to take the hits.”
“It doesn’t mean she should!” Bucky pretty much hollered, startling even Sam.
At that, he saw Y/N’s eyes widen and her head snap up to look at him. All the breath got knocked out from Bucky at the emotion in her face. It was like she didn’t believe what he was saying like she didn’t know it was a possibility to not put her own life before someone else’s, that maybe someone is supposed to do it for her, someone could protect her.
“She absorbs fucking bullets and infuses them in her body.” John mocked. “I’d say it’s a win-win on both sides. Everyone else stays safe, and she gets stronger, right? The whole bleeding thing is a hitch in the system, but our guys say with enough scuffles that should stop as well.”
Walker looked at her. Y/N just gulped, staring back down at the ground between her knees.
When he looked back at everything the moment he’d seen Zemo in the cell and the asshole had said something still remained in him from the Winter Soldier, came back to connect with the scene. He’d hated that sentence because Bucky knew it was true. The Soldier would always be a part of him, but that was what therapy was for – to accept it and let go. But in that minute, he wouldn’t have cared one bit if the ruthless assassin came to the surface if it meant snapping Walker’s neck like a stick.
He treated the woman as if she was below him, as if Steve’s shield somehow made him better than her, better than anyone, and yet, even when he’d been given the privilege to carry it, he’d rather use a human person, no matter if they had powers, as a shield.
A soft hand touched his side, and Bucky looked at Y/N, his breathing heavy at Walker’s words.
“I’m alright.” Her voice was softer than he thought it would be. Maybe it was because she was trying to stay out of John’s earshot, but even the gentle whisper made something in Bucky’s chest stir. “Thank you,” she said. “For checking up on me.”
Bucky stiffly nodded, standing up and offering both his hands for her to take, but even with that, it took Sam holding her by the waist to be able to stand. The Falcon had to catch her, in fact, when she took her first steps, an awkward chuckle escaping her mouth.
“It’s been a while since a hit like this.”
Sam quirked a brow and smirked. “You always have a tendency to do stupid shit like that?”
Y/N’s whole body relaxed as he said so, and a sting went through Bucky’s own. How bad were they treating her if basic kindness and a little bit of joking made her feel so safe?
Just as he was about to ask her more, to offer to take her with them, Walker spoke up again. That conversation was an absolute disaster, and the fact that Walker thought Sam and him would actually ever consider working with him on this mission was idiotic.
It ended with the two Avengers watching how Walker threw an arm around Y/N’s shoulders, making her knees buckle with the weight, her from still regaining strength, but he didn’t care, just dragged her along with him and Battlestar.
“Are we just gonna let ‘em do that to her?” Bucky sneered, arms crossed watching their retreating forms over the field.
He felt Sam glower next to him. “There’s not much we can do.”
He hated that he was right.
Bucky couldn’t stop thinking about Y/N. One meeting had left him shaken to the core not just about her, but about how there was something deeply off with the new Captain America, that if they didn’t take action something horrible would happen, not just because of his arrogance, but because of some seed he could feel had rooted itself in the other man’s heart.
But by that point they’d been in Madripoor, had met Sharon who’d been on the run from the US government ever since the dismantlement of the Avengers, and had now followed a lead to where the Flag-Smashers had settled in Latvia.
Zemo seemed to not only have a billion cars, but a billion apartments scattered around the world, this one being in the heart of the Old Town.
Bucky was on the roof looking over the twinkling lights of the city. His bed had been too soft as it always was, and even the floor wasn’t it for him, not a wink of sleep coming his way as his thoughts were flooded by Y/N.
Well, the sleep part wasn’t true. He had been able to drift off, only to dream of how the woman didn’t get better, didn’t absorb those bullets and had died right in his arms. That’s when he decided he needed a breath of fresh air.
The sound of shuffling feet made him whip around from the scenic view only to be greeted by a form he’d now recognise in a full-on ski-suit in pitch-black darkness.
“What are you doing here?” Bucky stood up wanting to stride over and check her for any wounds she might’ve gotten while around Walker. Any new scar on her body would mean the same number of teeth he’d knock from that Walmart-version-Captain-America’s mouth.
“Came to warn you.” She shrugged, soft winds making her coat flutter. “John and Lemar are resting, but come morning they’ll be on your ass, so you might wanna make a move now.”
Bucky shook his head. “I don’t get you. You’re nothing like them, I can see that you know how wrong it is, for him to be carrying that shield, that he’s making a mockery out of the name and legacy Steve built, and yet…”
Y/N hung her head lifting her shoulders, hands in her pockets. “I gotta do what I gotta do.”
“He’s an asshole,” Bucky hissed.
Y/N gave him a painful look. “I know. But I don’t have anywhere to go. Besides… you have your own way of making amends. Well, this is mine.”
Dark brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”
She let out a painful chuckle, not because of the memories now plaguing her waking thoughts, but because her wounds were still healing, and instantly Bucky came closer and took her hand, running a soothing thumb over her palm. Wounds he was sure were new.
Y/N froze at his touch, and Bucky was about to pull away when she put her own thumb over his. He had to bite back tears at how tenderly she was looking down at his palm. Like no one had ever comforted her when it hurt.
“When the Blip happened,” she started, voice low and quiet. “I watched how my sister and mom disappeared right in front of my eyes. We were driving over the Golden Gate Bridge, and there was a truck before us. It was carrying loads of metal scraps. The driver of the truck got blipped as well.” She swallowed harshly. “I can still feel how the beam went through my shoulder, how it broke the bone and skin, and how I just wanted to disappear like they had just to make the pain stop. But I didn’t. It hurt so bad.” Y/N looked at Bucky, tears running down her face. “It was burning and tearing, and so much pain… and all I could do was scream, but no one heard me because everyone else was screaming, and I was just one of the thousands doing it.”
Y/N shook her head, and when Bucky leaned closer to wipe away the tears, she sighed at the feeling. “I passed out sometime later. From the pain the… well, everything. And when I woke up, I heard people outside the door, trying to rip it open, I could see red lights flashing, but where I expected that beam to be was nothing. When I looked down at myself there was a hole in my shirt, but instead of a hole in my shoulder, a round scar was the only thing left from that moment.”
“They took me to the hospital, and when they tried to put an IV in, my body just swallowed up the needle.” She took a shaky breath, and Bucky squeezed her side. ‘Go on’ he tried to convey with the touch. ‘I’m here.’
“That’s when the tests started. They were fine at first. Blood samples when they managed to get any, saliva and all that good jazz… but then they started poking. And poking turned into slicing which turned into stabbing until I was their personal pincushion, as they tried to see what my body would and wouldn’t take.”
Y/N was shaking by that point, but not because of the wind that had picked up, but because of anger, of the horror, she’d had to go through. It took everything in Bucky to remain calm and let her continue.
“Two years they did that. And then one time they went a bit too far. Someone had stolen a vibranium spear from the Dora Milaje.”
Bucky’s breath got caught in his throat. He wasn’t moving a muscle.
“They wanted to know if I could absorb the strongest metal on Earth, so slowly…” Her hands went to her front, to the white blouse she was wearing and started popping open the buttons. Bucky was just about to protest when he understood.
“They pushed the spear too far.” Her finger ran over a rhomb shaped scar right in the centre of her chest. Right over her heart. “Pushed it right through.”
“How did you survive?” Bucky was appalled, but in awe at the same time.
Y/N shook her head. “I didn’t. I died then and there on the table. They took my body and dumped it in some ditch. From my own calculations, it took me about a day to heal. They’d sown in a scalpel in my stomach a few hours before, so I’m assuming it used that as the binding material for the cells.”
“I was so angry.” She looked at him. “At everyone, at myself, that I couldn’t help my family, that I allowed them to just use me like that, I just went off the deep end. I did so many bad things…” A tear slipped down her cheek. “I read about the Winter Soldier, y’know. His whole thing was efficiency, quickness. I – “ She choked on her words. “I wasn’t. I wanted to drag it out. Wanted to find each and every one of the bastards who laid their hands on me and make them suffer as I did.”
Bucky’s hand settled on her waist as he pulled her closer, feeling her body keen at the motion as she looked for reassurance. “I’m not a good person, Bucky. This.” She motioned with her head to her body. “This is my repentance for what I did.”
“What he’s doing is not right. What they’re making you do is not right.” Bucky shook his head. “Just because it might not kill you, doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. No one had any right to touch you.”
“It’s the price I pay for what I did.”
“Pain?”
Y/N nodded. “Eye for an eye. Pain for the pain I caused.”
Bucky shook his head. “That’s not right.”
“How else am I supposed to do this?”
“By getting help yourself first.”
Y/N’s eyes widened, and Bucky sighed. He understood how impossible that thought seemed, that someone who’s done so much bad could deserve help from others, but he understood her situation better than anyone. “Being here,” he said, “being able to say these things… I can only do that because I got help. It was mandated by the state, but nevertheless…” Both chuckled at that, and Bucky’s heart lightened at the sound, at the genuine sound of joy from her. “But the therapy… I hate to say this, but it helped. It’s not easy. I sometimes detest going to the sessions, and I might be failing them quite miserably right now, especially with rule number two –“
“What’s rule number two?”
“Don’t hurt anyone,” Bucky mumbled. “And I’ve broken it quite a lot recently, I know that which will either make me end up behind bars or will add more therapy sessions to the list, but I’m not afraid anymore.”
Y/N gulped, gazing just as intensely at Bucky as he was at her. “Of what?”
“Of reaching out.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Of asking for help. Of understanding that I deserve help, and I deserve to receive it.”
“Yeah, but the thing is I’m not like you.” Y/N looked away from him. “No one forced me to do this, no one brainwashed me. I did everything out of my own volition. Me. No one else. You deserve that help because HYDRA did all those things to you. You are a victim of war. I’m not. All those horrible things I did… I did them. Not some alias of mine.”
Bucky’s heart hurt at the fact that Y/N couldn’t see she was a victim of her own circumstance, and how now the government was punishing her for it. And that’s when another brick hit him – it was exactly like Isaiah’s situation. Both came from marginalised groups, parts of society where the ones in power have been trying to oppress and control them for as long as he could remember, he just couldn’t see it. He could see Sam’s point of view now. Maybe not as clearly as he should, but he was starting to wipe away the fog.
“They used you just as much as HYDRA used me.” He asserted, and Y/N’s eyes widened at his sure statement. “Just because a pile of shit has a bowtie on now, doesn’t mean it’s no longer a pile of shit… Come with us.” Bucky’s forehead pressed to hers. “Let’s do this the right way.”
“It’s mandated by the US government that I stay by John’s side and help him.”
Bucky smirked at that, nudging his nose against Y/N’s. “Well, it’s a good thing we’re in Latvia then. Besides Captain America has no pull here.”
She laughed, warm breath slipping over Bucky’s skin, and he had to close his eyes as the thought of her breathless and underneath him invaded his mind. “Unfortunately, this deal stands whether I’m inside the borders of USA or outside.”
Y/N looked over the skyline to where the country’s national monument stood. A woman, hands up in the air outstretched with three stars in her palms, with words she couldn’t understand when she'd arrived etched on the granite at the bottom. Some local had translated them for her. For the Fatherland and Freedom.
After the blip and the experiments, she didn’t feel like she had a home. She’d been imprisoned and prodded like some lab bunny to see what her body could do. What her body could be used for.
Bucky followed her gaze as she kept looking at the statue. Different stars, different saying, but still with the same meaning of what he saw when he looked at the Captain America shield. Freedom. Justice. For the love of their home.
Something deep started to burn in her chest, and even Bucky could feel the shift.
A ferocious look appeared in her eyes as she looked at him. “Let’s get that shield.” She wasn’t going to let Walker taint that star, she knew would happen if he had it for much longer.
They’d had a single meeting beforehand, and during that half-hour, he’d been terrified for more than two-thirds of the time about how Y/N might die in his arms, die because she’d taken bullets meant for him.
He was so glad she hadn’t, not because it would be another life lost because of him, but because he felt like he’d found a twin flame – someone who’d understand him and his troubles. Someone he could help.
Maybe that could be the true way he could make amends – help someone in the same situation.
Bucky smiled.
Y/N did so too, and his heart skipped a beat looking at the woman.
Her body might be able to absorb the metals piercing it, Walker might call her a human shield, but he knew she was so much more than that. And he’d spend however long it took him to prove so to her. Maybe even in more ways than one.
_________________________________________________________________
Please reblog if you like this. For whatever reason my Bucky fics aren’t appearing in the tags :(
Tags:
Everything tags: @palaiasaurus64 @supernaturalbaesduh @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561 @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @m-a-t-91 @dalilx @maladaptive-ninja-returns @averyrogers83 @in-the-end-im-still-trash @gallifreyansass @dewy-biitch @avxgers @unlikelygalaxygiver @magicwithaknife @ollyoxenfrees @bnhvrdy @thatkindofgurl @sj-thefan @lestersglitterglue @im-squished @strangersstranger
Bucky tag list: @who-cares-rn @projectxhappiness @callmebucky-doll @coal000 @courtneychicken @sophiealiice @watch-out-for-thorns @potentially-kinetic @thatonegirljessy99 @mrsalh32611 @horrorx570ximagines @the-nargles-made-me-do-it @pooslie @httpmcrvel @purplebananatragedy @pxrrishly @parker-barnes-af @skulliebythesea @california-grown @belongsto-prachi @hello-i-am-insane @hopeinahotbox
Marvel tags: @nerissa98 @happyseagrill @asguardiansoftheavengers @crazybutconfidentaf @wishingforahome @pizzarollpatrol @desir-ae
#Bucky Barnes#bucky imagine#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes x reader#bucky x reader#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x you#Sebastian Stan#sebastian stan imagine#sebastian stan x reader#sebastian stan x you#sebastian stan x y/n#the falcon and the winter soldier#Disney#diseny+#marvel#marvel imagine#Marvel Studios#imagine marvel#marvel endgame#The Avengers#avengers 4#avengers fanfiction#avengers imagine#avengers x reader#Avengers#captain america
265 notes
·
View notes
Text
REVLON #015 x Taemin (A)
Genre: Angst
Synopsis: Afraid Taemin has been cheating on you, you finally muster the strength to question his loyalty and find yourself heartbroken by the complicated truth.
Word Count: 1.8k+
Pairing: Taemin x Reader
Autumn came in like a lion, its cold claws tearing into the city while its roar brings a ferocious wind. The gray clouds overhead roll like giant waves about to take over the city, blanketing every surface with a gray hue. Only the red, orange and yellow hues of the dying leaves provide color and life to the dull city.
Large raindrops begin to fall, splashing against the window into smaller drops. You barely crack a smile at the thought of nature crying along with you as you use the corner of a napkin to quickly wipe your tears.
“Why don’t you talk to Taemin about it?” Jongah asks before taking a bite from her blueberry muffin and wiping away the fallen crumbs from her shirt.
You scoff softly and roll your eyes. “And say what? Are you cheating on me?”
“Yes!”
“It’s not that easy,” you sigh, pushing your half-eaten omelet away. “I’m in love with him and I…” your voice trails off when tears sting your eyes.
Jongah reaches across the table and gently squeezes your hand, her eyebrows knitting together in concern over your falling tears. “Talk to him,” she gently whispers, encouragement lacing her tone. “I know you’re scared of heartbreak, but you’re allowed to know the truth.”
Each step you take towards your and Taemin’s shared apartment makes your stomach drop. Your fingertips nervously feel the grooves of your keys while your mind races through loops so fast that you’re not aware of the sounds of babies crying and arguments around you.
‘I can’t stand out here forever,’ you think before closing your eyes and jamming the key into the lock before slowly opening the door.
The living room is dimly lit with the TV providing the brightest light. You throw your jacket across the couch and look around for any signs of Taemin.
“Taemin?” You call out as you look in the kitchen and hall bathroom. You stop at your bedroom door, your hand resting on the knob. The thought of opening the door and potentially finding Taemin giving his love to someone else.
The thought causes you to shiver as you remember the day your world turned upside down. It all began the night Taemin came home from visiting his family.
A marathon of rom-coms has you glued to the TV while an array of snacks are spread before you. You could barely concentrate on the movie as you eagerly awaited the return of your loving Taemin, who's been away for a week visiting family overseas. You wanted to join him, but the increased demand of your job barely left you time for yourself or Taemin. You often felt guilty when you would come home and find Taemin asleep on the couch from trying to stay up late so he could welcome you home. But tonight, you managed to get the night off so you could be home to welcome him back with open eyes. You fixed his favorite meal and dessert for a night of relaxation.
The sound of the front door unlocking pulled your attention away from the screen. A wide smile spread across your face when a smiling Taemin stood in the doorway with the door closing behind him. He immediately dropped his bags and ran to you. His arms engulfed you in a warm embrace, lifting you off the ground while your lips kissed all over his face in between the whispers of ‘I missed you.’
He gently set you on the couch before he quickly pressed his lips against yours, moving them feverishly. No words needed to be said to acknowledge or understand the need for each other’s touch and warmth as you made love to each other on the couch. His sweet whispers of admiration, tender kisses, and touches sent you into euphoria, never wanting it to end.
The next morning began with a shared shower before Taemin offered to make breakfast. You decided to put away some of Taemin’s clothes from his bags when a gold tube of lipstick caught your eye. A smile appeared on your face when the tube glistened in the sun’s rays.
‘He shouldn’t have,’ you thought before taking the top off. Your smile soon faded when you noticed the lipstick has been used several times. Then, a faint smell of warm vanilla caught your attention, a scent you never wore.
The sound of your name being called stopped your train of thought. “Coming!” You tried your best to hide the shakiness in your voice.
You hurriedly placed the lipstick back in the bag and forced a smile before walking out of the room. Where his smile and laughter would’ve made your heart flutter, you couldn’t fight the hurt and confusion that haunted the back of your mind.
The memory feels like a punch in the gut as you try to even your breathing. Suddenly, that familiar vanilla scent taunts you before a voice has the chance to speak.
“___! How was brunch?” Taemin cheerily asks with a laundry basket under his arm. His face falls when you turn to him with teary eyes. “Hey, what’s wrong?”
When he takes a step towards you, the scent becomes poignant causing the tears to fall down your cheeks. When you flinch at his touch, his gaze saddens in confusion.
“Who is she?” You ask shakily after a moment of silence. Your throat burns from holding back your emotions and your cheeks grow warm from Taemin's question of ‘Who?’ “I found used lipstick that I never use, a vanilla perfume that I never wear,” you pause for a moment, swallowing before finally meeting his eyes. “Are you cheating on me?”
The question causes Taemin to blink at a loss for words. He stands in silence, his eyes blank with emotion. “I’m not,” he finally says, his voice barely above a whisper.
“I’m having a hard time believing that,” you say flatly.
“It’s not easy to explain,” he says before grabbing your hand and leading you to the couch.
You sit on the opposite side of the couch, unable to look in his direction. The silence begins to feel suffocating until Taemin sighs and shifts in his seat.
“The lipstick you found,” he begins, “is mine.” You scoff and roll your eyes to his displeasure. “I’m telling the truth, ___.”
You remain silent for a moment, searching for the words that seemed to have quickly vanished. “And why would you own lipstick?” You slowly ask.
Taemin inhales deeply, rubbing his hands together. “It’s the only way I can still feel her lips on mine.”
‘Her?’ You think. So many questions swarm your mind before Taemin speaks again.
“Revlon #015. I can still see her put it on, her eyebrows knitting together as she glides the tube across her lips and I can still feel the beating of my heart when she catches me watching her and rushes over to kiss me, leaving some on my lips.” He pauses for a moment, smiling at the memory. “She would leave kiss marks on her love letters and spray it with her favorite vanilla scent from Bath & Body Works.”
The anger that rose inside of you quickly turns to sadness - for Taemin because he’s still in love and has been grieving the loss of his ex-girlfriend, and for you, because you’ve come to realize that his heart didn’t belong just to you.
“There are things I don’t want to forget about her, things I just can’t forget,” he softly says, his true feelings finally now allowed to come out. “And I can’t allow myself to lead you on anymore. I’m still in love with her and I love you,” he trails before clearing his throat. “I can’t, I can’t hurt you anymore. I won’t allow myself to do that to you.”
You swallow your sobs that want to erupt from your core. A sad smile disappears as quickly as it came as you muster the strength to finally look at the young man you love. His bangs hide his tear-filled eyes as he quickly wipes his tears away. You begin to wonder if you somehow forced him to begin your relationship before he was truly ready.
“I’m sorry,” you say weakly, your eyes falling to the floor.
Taemin looks towards you and reaches out to squeeze your hand. “I can never forget you or your love, ___. That’s nothing to be sorry about.”
You take a shaky breath before squeezing his hand back. ‘So this is heartbreak,” you think as you sit in silence, hands still intertwined. ‘They were right, it always gets you.’
A year has gone by since you’ve last seen or talked to Taemin. Every now and then you got the urge to contact him just so you could hear his voice, but that would’ve made the wound hurt more. Jongah was more than welcoming when she opened her apartment to you, even helping you move your things from your old apartment. For months, you lay awake thinking of Taemin and the memories you shared and the last hug you shared before you walked away, never to return.
It wasn’t until Jongah introduced you to her friend, Taehyun, that you thought about dating. When you met Taehyun, thoughts of Taemin no longer overshadowed your thoughts. Taehyun was like Taemin in his gentle ways, but you could see the unwavering look of admiration in his eyes when you were together and feel the excitement of being in your presence. With him, you felt your heart begin to be slowly repaired as he took everything slowly and did his best to comfort you and gain your trust.
The crisp autumn air causes you to shiver as you walk with Taehyun to your favorite lunch spot.
“Cold?” He asks. Wrapping his arm around you before you have the chance to answer.
The warmth radiating from his body pulls you closer. The changing leaves catch your eye as you watch one gracefully fall to the ground. A gentle bump against your shoulder makes you glance up.
“I’m so sorry,” you turn and begin to say. Your eyes widen when you see a familiar face. “Taemin?”
Taemin lifts his head enough for you to see his eyes from under his hood. A warm smile spreads across his face. “___,” he says before looking towards Taehyun.
“This is Taehyun,” you smile. The two young men shake hands bringing warmth to your heart. When Taemin inquisitively raises his eyebrows, you eagerly nod.
“You make sure you treat her right,” Taemin says, his tone stern. “She deserves the best.”
Taemin’s gaze brings a smile to your face. “It was nice seeing you.”
Taemin smiles, “Yeah, you too.”
Not knowing the right words to say, you bid him a farewell nod before grabbing Taehyun’s hand and continuing down the sidewalk. You refuse to look back as you cross the crosswalk.
‘My future is beside me,’ you think with a smile as you rest your rest on Taehyun’s shoulder and allow your fingers to intertwine with his.
#taemin angst#kpop angst#shinee angst#taemin scenarios#kpop scenarios#shinee scenarios#taemin scenario#kpop scenario#shinee scenario#taemin fanfic#kpop fanfic#taemin drabbles#kpop drabbles#taemin fanfiction#kpop fanfiction#taemin imagines#kpop imagines#taemin imagine#kpop imagine
56 notes
·
View notes
Text
valentine (m.)
pairing: reader x jung jaehyun x johnny seo x kim jungwoo x kim doyoung
genre/warnings: explicit sexual content | fivesome | mentions of drinking | absolute filth
words: 3.8k
summary: a series of unfortunate events leaves the five of you alone on a day meant to be spent together
“You’re back early.” Doyoung comments, glancing up from his phone to watch you storm into your apartment. He’s in the same spot on the couch that he was in when you left.
You throw your purse onto the counter, angrily stripping your coat off. “Yeah. The guy blew me off. Can you believe that?” You walk into your room and peel your dress off of you, trading it for a comfy pair of sweats. The lingerie stays on, though. It makes you feel cute. When you come back into the living room, Doyoung hands you a beer and pats the space next to him. “He didn’t even text me until I’d been waiting for fifteen minutes.” “Yeah well, he’s a fucking asshole.” Doyoung says it like he’s stating the obvious. You guess he is. “But hey, at least you can spend some quality room with your roommate who isn’t an asshole!” You raise your eyebrows. “Yay.” There isn’t an ounce of emotion in your voice.
Doyoung glares at you but he can’t be too annoyed. He hands you the TV remote. “You choose. My ex changed the password on my Netflix account and won’t let me log back in, so. That’s not an option.”
“You’re kidding. Do you want me to go to her house?” You normally leech off of Doyoung’s Netflix account, so this is a direct attack to you.
He snorts. “I’ll think about it.” It’s an hour later and you’ve flipped through every station the TV has to offer, finding nothing but shitty made-for-tv romance movies and game shows. You give up watching and pick up your phone, checking social media. An array of happy couples assault you and you groan, switching apps. It isn’t any better.
��Valentine’s day is stupid.” Doyoung groans, clearly in a similar state of boredom.
“Amen.” You click your phone off and let your head fall back against the couch, finding the ceiling more appealing than the endless Snapchat stories.
“Definitely the worst holiday.” You think about it for a moment. “Hey, no. Think about all the candy they’ll have on sale tomorrow.” His agreement is interrupted by a knock and you exchange a glance with him. “Did you invite someone over?” He shakes his head.
You swing the door open to reveal Johnny and Jaehyun. Johnny’s holding a cake and smiling broadly. Jaehyun looks dead inside.
“Hey?” You greet them, slightly confused as to why they’re at your apartment. Doyoung doesn’t look like he has any idea either. “What’s up?” “Well, we were going to go out to dinner for Jae’s birthday but the restaurant lost our reservation and everywhere else was beyond crowded.” Johnny’s laugh is almost apologetic. “I knew Doyoung was staying in, but I thought you had a date.” His eyes roam over your figure, clearly taking in the combination of your loose sweats and stained sweatshirt. “Yeah, I had a date. He blew me off.”
Both boys grimace. “Shit. Want me to kill him?” You step back to let them in, laughing lightly. “Nah, that’s alright. Come on in, we can sit in our misery together.” Johnny and Jaehyun smile and shuffle in, though Jaehyun’s looks a little forced. “I can’t promise you a gourmet dinner, but we do have frozen pizzas and ice cream.” Jaehyun laughs. “Sounds pretty gourmet to me. I’m gonna use the bathroom, if that’s alright.” The three of you watch him walk away before Johnny turns to you and Doyoung.
“Sorry to barge in, but he always gets so lonely on his birthday, and I wanted to cheer him up. I don’t think that him seeing all the couples out tonight really helped.” Johnny sighs.
You grimace. “Oh god, yeah.”
“You know you’re always welcome over.” Doyoung shrugs. “Not like you were interrupting anything.” He walks away to turn the oven on, pulling out the pizza. “It should take twenty minutes? Not really sure. Our oven’s kind of broken.” Johnny laughs. “No problem. Can I set this down somewhere?” He raises the cake in question and you motion to your counter. “Are we feeling wine or vodka tonight?” Jaehyun makes his return at the exact moment you ask the question.
“Definitely vodka.” He responds, already pulling the glasses out of your cupboard. You snicker. It certainly is that kind of night.
Johnny’s phone chimes and he checks it, snorting. “Seems like a bad night for all of us. Ten just abandoned Jungwoo for a date.” “Tell him to come over.” Doyoung says. “We’ll have a party of our own.”
Jungwoo shows up 30 minutes later, equipped with bags of takeout and a pout on his face. You don’t have enough chairs for everyone so you eat it on the couch, squished between the arm rest and Jungwoo. “We were supposed to go clubbing.” He whines, stripping his jacket off. “I even put on my expensive cologne.” “Rough. Who’s he out on a date with, anyway?” He shoves half the container of noodles into his mouth. “Someone on Tinder! Can you believe that he abandoned me for a Tinder match?”
“Unbelievable.” Jaehyun pats his back while the rest of you nod solemnly. Johnny pours the rest of you shots.
“Fuck Valentine’s day.” He raises his glass in a toast before tossing it back, grimacing slightly. A chorus of ‘fuck Valentine’s day’ sounds around the room as you follow suit.
You’re all tipsy by the time you move onto cake, singing a very dramatic version of happy birthday to Jaehyun. He giggles his way through it, dimples making an appearance as he blows the candles out..
“What’d you wish for?” You demand, leaning forward. Jaehyun winks at you and holds a finger to his lips. “Can’t tell you or it won’t come true.” You pout. He pinches your cheeks.
Johnny takes charge of cutting the cake while Doyoung runs to the kitchen, returning with a can of whipped cream and some ice cream. Jungwoo looks down at the slice Johnny gives him, and then back up at Johnny with raised eyebrows. He shoves the whole piece into his mouth in one go. Johnny gives him a significantly larger second piece.
“You know what the most devastating part of tonight is?” Jungwoo asks, spooning ice cream onto his cake. “I’m not even going to get laid. That’s like, the one thing I was hoping for.” “Hey, that’s what I wished for!” Jaehyun exclaims. His head rests heavily on Johnny’s shoulder and Johnny laughs, patting his back.
“I thought you said that you couldn’t tell us or it wouldn’t come true.” You chime in.
Jaehyun shrugs. “Not like it’s gonna come true anyways.” “I’m pretty sure that’s what we were all wishing for.” Doyoung chimes in.
Johnny raises his forkful of cake. “I’ll toast to that.” “Same.” You respond, trying to remember the last time you had sex, then trying to remember the last time you had good sex. Then you pause. “Wait. You’re all hot as fuck, how are you not getting laid?” They all shrug. Jaehyun grins, dimples on full display. “Aww, you think we’re hot. Would you sleep with us?” Maybe it’s the alcohol that has you nodding, maybe not. You’ve always been shameless, especially in front of people you’re comfortable with. “Yeah? Like I said, you all hot as fuck.” “You’re pretty hot too, y/n.” Johnny says. “I don’t know how Doyoung can live with you and not be sexually frustrated as fuck.” Jungwoo giggles. “He is, though.” Doyoung smacks the younger and Jungwoo squeaks, still laughing. You shoot Doyoung a questioning look and he just shrugs.
The five of you continue eating, finishing the cake and chatting mindlessly. “Y/n,” Jungwoo is suddenly way too close, using his hand to tilt your chin up. “You have a little something…” He uses his thumb to wipe at the corner of your mouth at the same time that you flick your tongue out to lick at the stray whipped cream. The result is Jungwoo’s thumb sliding past your lips, and for whatever reason, your brain tells you to suck on the digit. And you do.
Jungwoo watches with wide eyes as you close your lips around his thumb, using your tongue to tease the tip of it as you suck. A soft moan leaves him, his eyes groaning wide. He swallows thickly.
“Oh, baby.” Jungwoo groans, sliding his thumb out of your mouth and replacing it with his lips. You all but melt into the kiss, pressing forward into him, sliding your hand into his hair to pull him closer.
You get so lost in the kiss that you forget about the rest of the people grouped around the couch. It isn’t until Jungwoo starts kissing down your neck and you let your head fall to the side that you notice.
Jaehyun and Doyoung are watching you with slack jaws, eyes locked on the blissed out expression you wear, ears straining to catch the noises you make. Johnny looks unaffected, watching with something dark in his eyes.
You try to pull away but Jungwoo growls, something so startling for the normally soft spoken man. He slides his hand up your thigh, pulling you over to straddle his waist. There’s a sharp gasp as you rock your hips down on instinct, feeling the shape of his cock through the fabric of his jeans.
“Seems a little selfish of you to ignore the birthday boy.” You and Jungwoo make out for a bit longer before Johnny speaks up. You turn your head to find Johnny standing in front of you, his hand on Jaehyun’s lower back to push him forward. “Why don’t you give him his present?” You bite your lips and turn yourself around on Jungwoo’s lap, sitting so that your back is to his chest. “What do you want?” Jaehyun seems to debate the question, glazed eyes roaming over your figure. “I want...” His tongue darts out to wet his lips and he swallows thickly. “I want to taste you.” “What the birthday boy wants.” You shrug, trying and failing to seem unaffected. In reality your panties are soaked and you’re beyond excited to have Jaehyun’s face between your thighs.
He wastes no time sliding your pajama pants off, revealing your bare legs and your panty clad core. You’d forgotten about the lacy lingerie set you’d slipped on earlier until Jaehyun snaps the waistband of your panties against your skin.
“Oh shit,” Jaehyun moans, sliding his hand up your bare legs. “You're so soft.” Doyoung laughs despite himself. “Guess that’s where all the hot water went.” You open your mouth to respond but get cut off as Jungwoo pulls your sweatshirt over your head. Similar swears echo around the room. “Fuck baby, who is this for?”
Jungwoo pinches your nipple over the fabric of your bra and your back arches, pushing your chest further into his touch. You moan softly, letting your eyes flutter closed. “Me, bitch. I deserve to feel sexy.”
“Fuck yeah, you do.” Johnny groans at the same time Doyoung chimes in with a “Look even sexier.”
You squirm as Jaehyun attaches his lips to your ankle, kissing his way up your leg until he’s at your thigh. The ticklish feeling has you squirming but you’re held in place by Jaehyun’s large palms.
A hand slides into your hair and you whine, looking up to find Doyoung staring at you with dark eyes. “Can you make me feel good, princess?” You nod, leaning forward to mouth at the bulge in his boxers and he swears, struggling to tug the fabric off with one hand. A second pair of hands land on Doyoung’s hips and the man jumps, looking back to find Johnny there. “You look like you need some help.” Is all he whispers as he slides Doyoung boxers down.
Doyoung looks ready to argue but you’re sinking your mouth down around him before he can, just sucking at the tip. He’s bitter on your tongue, but not unpleasant. It’s certainly worth it to be able to watch his eyelids fluttering closed, low moans leaving him.
A whine leaves you as Jungwoo continues to play with your chest, pinching at your nipples over the lace of your bra until there are tears in your eyes. His dick is hard against your ass and you rut back against him, drawing a sweet moan from him as he tugs harshly at your nipples. You cry out but the sound is muffled around Doyoung’s cock.
Jaehyun chooses that moment to attach his mouth to your center, kissing and sucking at your core through your panties. A whine leaves you as you buck up against his mouth, trying to get more. You go to pull off of Doyoung but then there’s another set of hands in your hair, forcing you down until Doyoung’s cock hits the back of your throat.
“Oh baby, you can do better than that, can’t you?” It’s Johnny, guiding your pace from where he stands behind Doyoung. His eyes are heavy as he watches you blow his friend, and you catch the subtle movement of his hips as he grinds against Doyoung.
You let out a muffled noise of agreement, sucking harshly on Doyoung’s cock. He fills your mouth up nicely, your lips having to stretch a little to fit him, but not too much. Tears well up in your eyes as you take him deeper into your throat, gagging lightly.
There’s a tearing sound as Jaehyun rips your panties off of your body, wasting no time before diving into your core. His nose bumps your clit as he fucks you with his tongue, his hands sliding up to grip at the back of your thighs as he tries to pull you even closer to his face. You cry out at the pleasure coursing through your veins, squirming as your mind runs a million miles an hour, trying desperately to process the situation. Jungwoo’s hands massaging your tits, Doyoung’s cock deep in your throat, Jaehyun eating you out like you’re his last meal.
You force your heavy lids open and make eye contact with Johnny. He’s watching you with fire in his eyes and it’s the last you register before you’re coming, yanking your mouth off of Doyoung’s cock and biting into the skin of his thigh. Your legs try desperately to close around Jaehyun’s head but neither him nor Jungwoo let up, working you through your high until you’re a sobbing mess. It’s only then that Jaehyun pulls away from you, though Doyoung doesn’t seem to have the same reservations. You’ve only just caught your breath when he slides his cock back between your lips, fucking into your mouth, once, twice before he’s shooting his come down your throat.
It’s quiet for a minute as you catch your breath, sagging back into Jungwoo. Jaehyun’s still between your legs, though he’s resting his head against your thigh. Your eye catches movement and you lean forward to watch Jaehyun jerk his cock desperately, hips bucking up into his hand.
You literally just came but already your body is heating back up. Suddenly you need to have all of them, need them to fuck you until you can’t even move, until they’re imprinted in your body. You run your hand through Jaehyun’s hair, tugging at the strands to make him look up at you.
“Let me take care of you now.” Jaehyun nods, blinking slowly, and then it’s a race to get to the bed. You all crowd into Doyoung’s room because he’s the one with the bigger bed, and suddenly he’s forgiven for all the times he's forgotten to do the dishes.
“God, I want to fuck you.” Jungwoo moans, clambering onto the bed. A whimper leaves you as you think about having him in your pussy, but then you look over to Jaehyun and your mouth goes dry at how desperate he looks. He has his hand shoved down the front of his pants and he’s grinding against his palm, jaw slack as he pleasures himself.
“Mhmm, me too. Jaehyun’s first though.” You pant out, trying to help Jungwoo out of his skinny jeans. Jungwoo whines impatiently. “You have two holes though. Why can’t we just share?” You vaguely hear Johnny laugh over the white noise in your brain. The idea of having both of them fuck you at once has you feeling much too hot, and you cringe as you feel more wetness drip out of you. “You seem to like that idea.” Johnny comments, stroking your side softly. You whine.
“But what about you?” You realize that he hasn’t been touched yet and you move your hand to cup him over his boxers. He hisses.
His voice is strangled as he gently bats your hand away, moving off the bed. Doyoung takes his place. “I’m okay with watching, for now. I’ll get my turn later.” You nod, turning to Jaehyun. “Jae, baby, do you want to fuck my pussy? Or my ass?” Jaehyun’s hips stutter where he’s still grinding against his hand and he looks at you with wide eyes. “Fuck, you can’t just ask me that.” He groans, pausing his movements to strip his clothes off. “God, can I fuck your ass?”
You grin, nodding. Doyoung ghosts his thumb over your ass and you jolt, moaning at the touch. “Johnny, condoms.” You wave your hand in the general direction of your nightstand and he gets the hint, throwing a handful of condoms and a bottle of lube at you.
Doyoung wastes no time in sliding one of his long fingers into your ass. The stretch has you hissing but he pays you no mind, starting a gentle rhythm and smoothing his hand down your side. Jungwoo rolls a condom on and hisses as he strokes himself, head falling back at the relief.
“Wait,” You pause Doyoung, crawling over to Jungwoo. “Wanna ride him while you finger me.
Jungwoo strokes your hips as you straddle him, sinking down onto his cock slowly. His face screws up in pleasure and he lets out a moan, the sound so pretty that it has you clenching around him. He moves to undo your bra, letting your breasts fall free so that he can bury his face between them. His hands cup them perfectly and he massages them, turning his head to leave kisses on the skin.
“Fuck, you feel so good.” Jungwoo moans, the words muffled by your chest. You hum in agreement, swiveling your hips to feel the thickness of his cock, how nicely he presses against your walls.
Doyoung fucks two, then three fingers into your ass, turning you into a moaning mess as you fuck yourself onto both Jungwoo’s cock and Doyoung’s fingers. You already feel so full, but you know it’s about to get so much better.
“Jaehyun.” You moan, turning you head to find the man. “Jaehyun, come on, want you in me.” He nods, reaching for a condom, but Johnny beats him to it. You watch with a slack jaw as Johnny rolls the condom onto Jaehyun, pouring lube onto his cock. Johnny strokes Jaehyun just a little too slowly to be considered comforting, and Jaehyun’s face contorts as he tries to fuck up into the others grip.
Johnny lets go and pats his hip. “I think Y/N’s tight ass is going to feel a lot better than my hand.”
Jaehyun sits up, flustered, and moves to replace Doyoung. You whine at the loss of the man’s fingers, though you cut yourself off with a gasp as Jaehyun presses the head of his cock against your fluttering hole.
Jungwoo kisses you through the discomfort as Jaehyun slides his cock into your tight hole, stretching your body beyond anything you’ve ever felt. You can’t stop moaning and you feel like you can’t breathe, desperately trying to gasp for air. Jungwoo eventually pulls away to let you rest your forehead against his, his hand moving down to find your clit. You jolt against him and whine, molten lava filling your insides.
Jaehyun lets out an almost feral groan when he bottoms out, panting heavily. “You feel so good.” Jaehyun swears. “So fucking tight, baby. Have you ever let anyone fuck your ass before?” “Yeah, but I-” He starts moving and your voice dies, your mouth opening in a silent scream. Jungwoo fucks up into your pussy, his head falling back.
“But?” He asks sweetly, encouraging you to finish. It’s almost impossible with how they’re touching you, though. Jungwoo must know it.
“But I’ve never had two guys at once.” You whimper, giving up trying to hold yourself up and letting them manhandle you. “I feel so full.”
They build up a rhythm, tearing you apart piece by piece until you’re a mindless, moaning mess. You swear you’ve never felt this good. All your nerves seem to be set on fire, and it seems like there’s a knot building in your stomach as your climax grows closer.
Doyoung once again finds comfort in your mouth, his hips bucking up as you suck him off. You moan at how full you feel, being surrounded by three guys while a fourth one watches. It’s absolute heaven.
“Jungwoo.” Johnny calls out. “Ten just texted you. His Tinder date was a flop.” “Shouldn’t have abandoned me.” Jungwoo calls back. “Though with how tonight’s going, I’m not sure I can be mad.”
Jaehyun pulls his mouth from your neck and you whine at the loss of heat, squirming as he blows cool air over the area. “Send him a picture of us. Show him what he’s missing out on.” You make the neediest noise you’ve ever made in your life at the suggestion, and all three men swear. The vibrations travel up Doyoung’s cock and he fucks up into your mouth, choking you. “Yeah? You all okay with that?” A chorus of yes’s go around the room, though Doyoung doesn’t let you pull off of him. “Y/N? You good with that?” “You should’ve felt how fucking tight she got when you said that, she’s more than okay with it.” Jaehyun pants out.
Doyoung briefly lets go of you when Johnny says “I need to hear her say it.” You cough for a minute before yelling out a “please, yes” and taking Doyoung’s cock back into your mouth.
There’s a click as Johnny takes the picture and you clench again, sending Jaehyun and Jungwoo into a frenzy. Jungwoo groans and dips his head down to mouth at your breasts, sucking hickies into the delicate skin, taking your nipple between his lips. Jaehyun pulls his hand back to land a slap on your ass, leaving his hand there to knead at the flesh.
Doyoung moans out that he’s coming and you swallow his come for the second time that night, panting as he lets you rest your head on his thigh. A phone chimes repeatedly and Johnny laughs, turning the ringer off. “Looks like Ten liked our picture.” The thought of someone else seeing you like this, wanting to be in this situation, fills your mind and you tip over the edge, vision whiting out as you moan wantonly. You claw at Jungwoo’s shoulders as you try desperately to ground yourself, sandwiched between the two men.
“Fuck, I’m gonna come.” Jaehyun groans, hips snapping against your ass sloppily. You whine, clenching around him repeatedly, the oversensitivity too much. Jungwoo pays no mind to the fact that you’ve just come, continuing to fuck up into you. “Fuckkk,” Jaehyun pulls out of you quickly and you hiss at the loss. Wet warmth hits your lower back, your ass, and the top of your thighs and Jaehyun curses loudly before collapsing on the mattress with a satisfied moan.
Jungwoo comes soon after with his mouth on one of your breasts, his hand on the other. You bounce on top of him to help him draw it out for as long as possible, going until he’s throwing his head back and crying out from the sensitivity.
Johnny’s the only one who hasn’t come yet. He sits next to the bed in Doyoung’s desk chair, stroking his cock slowly, almost lazily. It’s thick and long and looks delicious. You want it in your mouth.
He smirks, clearly catching your hungry gaze. “Aww, baby still wants more?” His voice is taunting but you don’t even care, just nodding obediently.
You roll onto your back and spread your legs, giving easy access to the man. Johnny just shakes his head. “Turn over. Want you on your hands and knees.” He wastes no time sliding into your dripping core, starting a brutal rhythm right from the start. You cry out and try to keep yourself up but Johnny shoves your chest to the mattress, pulling your hips higher so that he can get deeper. His body is draped over yours, his chest flush to your back. You can’t physically get any closer.
“Such a fucking cockslut.” Johnny hisses into your ear, voice low and delicious. “Letting four different guys fuck you, come on you. Bet you wish there were more.” You whine and make some sort of noise of agreement. “Ten’s probably jerking off to that picture I sent him. Does that make you happy?” Johnny nips at your earlobe and slides his hand down to rub at your clit. “Or are you upset? You probably rather that he was here, probably want his cock in your mouth too.” Another whine leaves you and Johnny pinches your clit. You thrash, the feeling too much. Your orgasm is rushing to the surface, electricity shooting through your body as the knot grows tighter and tighter. “What was that?” “I want it! Fuck, I want his cock in my mouth.” You moan, eyes rolling shut. “Fuck, I’m gonna come, ‘m gonna come.”
Johnny fucks you through your orgasm, hissing filthy words in your ear as your vision blacks out, registering nothing but how fucking good you feel. You clamp down around his thick cock and he groans, pulling out and ripping the condom off, jerking himself off all over your lower back.
Jungwoo crawls closer and kisses you, gently helping you come down. You’re shaking in your post-orgasmic bliss, lifting an arm to pull him closer. Jaehyun presses in from the other side, stroking your hair and peppering kisses all over your forehead.
You flinch when a damp cloth lands on your back and you turn to find Johnny smiling apologetically, cleaning the come off of your skin. “Sorry, I’ll try to make this quick.” A hiss leaves you as he wipes between your legs, squirming at the discomfort. Jungwoo swipes a finger through your folds and you hiss, biting his lip harshly. He giggles.
The five of you redress, both Jungwoo and Jaehyun stealing one of Doyoung’s shirts. You furrow your eyebrows in confusion, wondering where Jaehyun’s shirt went, but then you realize that it’s his shirt that he’s tugging over your head. The fabric is warm and smells amazing. You want to sink into it.
“Do you need anything?” Doyoung asks, rubbing his hand up your thigh. “You were amazing, by the way. It wasn’t too much, was it?” You shake your head. “No, it was perfect. I wouldn’t mind a piece of cake, though.”
Doyoung leaves to get the cake, complaining when he comes back and finds there’s no room for him.
("It’s my bed!”
“Okay, and? That’s also your chair.”
“Yeah, and this is my fist about to go into your face”)
It’s 1 AM when you check the time and it’s certainly much too late for them to go home so you tell them to stay, letting them arrange themselves among the couch and the guest bed.
“Doyoung?” You ask, hesitating by the door. Your bed is big and warm and empty right now, but that’s not what you want. Not after what you just experienced. It’s too empty. “Doyoung, do you think I could stay with you tonight?”
He seems surprised by your question but he nods, shifting over to give you room. “Of course. But you're the big spoon tonight.” You snort. “That’s good with me.”
The two of you arrange yourselves comfortably, and it’s so painfully nice that you could cry. You can’t even remember the last time you cuddled someone like this. “Hey Y/N? Happy Valentine’s day.” “Happy Valentine’s day. I guess it isn’t the worst holiday after all.”
#nct smut#nct 127 smut#nct u smut#jaehyun smut#johnny smut#jungwoo smut#doyoung smut#nct imagines#jung jaehyun smut#johnny seo smut#kim doyoung smut#kim jungwoo smut
4K notes
·
View notes
Text
heavy is the head that wears the crown (mob!arvin russell x fem! pastor’s daughter! reader)
genre: angst+fluff
summary: arvin had always heard the saying “heavy is the head that wears the crown” but never truly understood what it meant. not until now
words: 4.06k
warnings: since this is based off of a tdatt, family death, mentions of death, mentions of mobs, kissing, marriage, murder, smoking, suicide, cancer and i think that’s it. it’s also kinda melodramatic, and i haven’t watched tdalt in a while so a lot could be plot inaccurate also idk anything abt the mob or mafia so like dont k*ll me thx i just like joe pesci
a/n: first, i owe the amazing concept of mob!arv to @kelieah ! so go follow her for more mob!arvin goodness!! basically i’m obsessed w 90s mob movies and watched goodfellas and casino and few too many times lately and oops here we r! i tried to write this from the narrator in tdatt’s view, so if u wanna read it like that then cool! btw the pic w the dress is just an idea of the dress reader is wearing not what she looks like! ok enjoy i’ll stop rambling
·。·。·。
“So, Arvin. I was told you paint houses? That true?”
Arvin hesitated, opening his mouth and closing it again. He wasn’t a painter, no, he killed people. For a price, that is.
But rather than saying no, the jab in his side from his uncle told him to answer otherwise.
“Yes, sir. It is.”
The Pastor nodded, taking a drag from his cigar, imported all the way from Cuba. He then placed what was left of the long stick in the crystal tray in front of him, the tapping of it on the reflective surface seeming almost deafening.
“Can all your family be traced down to one place, son?”
Arvin gulped, avoiding his eyes, darting his own around the heavily decorated room. Another jab to his side. He winced, meeting the older man’s eyes. He may not know much about the life he was about to enter, but he knew enough about what that meant.
“Yes, sir. They can be, minus my father and my mother. They’re gone.”
Not even a full beat of silence later, the Pastor spoke.
“How’d he die?”
Arvin was taken aback, though he knew that question was coming. His jaw clenched, as did his fist by his side. If the Pastor noticed, he didn’t speak on it, barely lifting his eyes from the document resting on his desk.
“Suicide, after the war.”
“And your mother?”
He took his lip in between his teeth, feeling the skin break, the tears well in his eyes for reasons he would excuse as the pain he was inflicting.
“Cancer. It happened when I was young, I didn’t barely even know her.”
The pastor looked up, slimming his eyes. This time he did notice the glimmering droplets, welling up in his chestnut colored eyes, threatening to fall. He appreciated the boy’s attempt to keep his emotions in check in front of his would be superior, leaning back into his chair.
“It’s alright, boy. You’re allowed to cry, it was your mother.” His southern accent was thick like molasses, his words drawing out. Arvin still felt that it wasn’t acceptable, though, so he only sniffled and directed his chin further up towards the ceiling. He stood there for a while, nerves running through his every cell. It was electric, like white lighting making its way through his veins at a painstakingly slow pace.
“Right then.”
The pastor stood, walking towards Arvin and his uncle. His expensive loafers tapped along the cold floor as he went, the sound pestering to the ears of Arvin, taunting him. He reached a soft hand out, which the boy standing opposite to him gladly took. He observed how the Pastor’s hand was without scars, calluses. Anything that would point to evidence of him being a killer, doing his own dirty work (or “the Lord’s work” as he liked to put it).
“Welcome to the family, son.”
And as Arvin smiled widely and shook his hand with an iron grip, he began to wonder what his new life would entail doing the “Lord’s work”.
He thought he had a pretty good idea, but boy, was he wrong.
“So, how’d it go?”
It was later, and Arvin was sitting with one his most favorite people, Y/n. The pair were resting in an open field, the wildflowers around her just almost competing with the beauty she held. He bashfully looked to the dirt under his shoes, noticing how only inches away, her hands picked at the damp grass.
“Went well, I think. He told me I’m ‘part of the family now’.”
She smiled at him, and in that moment with her hair so widely astray, and wearing that pale blue dress he adored so much, Arvin’s heart felt a certain emotion he hadn’t necessarily felt for someone at this multitude before. He had felt it for Lenora, his mother, his aunt and uncle. But it was different, then. Because now as he sat with her by his side, his love for her was realized at its full potential.
She began to ramble on, congratulating him on becoming a member of her father’s so called “family”, telling him how proud she was. He couldn’t keep focused on the sweet words that were falling from her lips like honey, though, as he was too caught up in his own head, his own thoughts.
“Arv?” She asked, voice laced with slight concern, but mostly with curiosity.
“Sorry, darlin’. Just thinking.”
She blushes, it’s the first time he’s called her that before. She tries to carry on conversation, though with her heart beating through that pretty dress of her’s, it was a bit difficult.
“About what?” She questioned, doing her very best not to pry too far, to be invasive in the very reserved Arvin’s mind.
Truthfully? He was promising himself that he would marry her one day, make her his wife. But telling her that he was only thinking “‘bout the future” would have to do. I mean, truthfully, he really was!
So he answered her, and she was content with said answer, abandoning the subject and returning to many praises for Arv. The standards for the “family” were high, and though she believed in him fiercely, she knew that at his core Arvin was the sweetest soul she’d ever met, and she was skeptical he could put that aside to do whatever the job would require.
“Arvin?”
He looked up, and she nearly lost her breath. It was Arvin’s sunkissed skin, tanned from working under the hot sun, the beams beating down on him. Or perhaps it was the freckles that lightly dusted his crooked nose, like a constellation from the cosmos above. Maybe even it was the mop that sat on his head, the color all the same of those sweet brown eyes of his. Whatever it was, she felt it could only mean one thing.
Y/n Y/l/n was confident she loved Arvin Russell.
“Hmm?” He asked, tilting his head like a confused canine. Adorably endearing, she thought.
And though she had much to say, she was afraid that if he were the dog in question, then the puppy had got her tongue, so to say.
“Y/n/n?” The boy said, nudging her with his elbow, making a melodious giggle erupt from her chest. “What, cat got your tongue?” Arvin teased, and she only shook her head and smiled, as he had no idea how correct he really was.
“You could say that.”
The two shared laughs over the exchange, and at some point (neither of them are quite sure when, how, or who leaned in first), their lips connected in a short and sweet kiss. It seemed that it only lasted for a moment, and as soon as they pulled apart, Arvin and Y/n both were dying for more.
But they resisted, Arvin reaching out a cautious hand to entangle with hers. She bashfully grinned, as did he (though he did his best to resist).
“Y/n, I really like you.” He had said, his thumb running small circles upon her skin. “And correct me if I’m wrong, but I think you like me too.” He laughed, nervous notes to the sound.
“And well, I was wondering if you’d like to be my girlfr-”
And with a light groan, Y/n had wrapped her arms around his neck, pushing both of them to the ground. She connected their lips, the kiss so oddly blunt, an attack on his lips that he had no plan of fighting off. His hands found her hair, and her’s moved to the sides of his face, holding him so tightly, as if she was afraid he would let go.
“Yes.” She pulled away panting, her lips swollen, his flushed. “Yes, I’d love to be your girlfriend, Arvin.”
They smiled as bright as the setting sun above them, and Arvin pulled her close as she buried her face in the warm crook of his neck. They stayed like that ‘till the sun went down and the stars came out of hiding, the cool summer breeze blowing around them. They both still felt it, then, the love they had only just began to realize was there. And they would continue to feel it for years to come.
Like when Arvin would get back from a job, sometimes with blood splattered on his crisp white shirts, his dirty work getting, well, dirty. She would slowly peel it from his body, taking care to make sure he wasn’t hurt. She would do her best to wash the crimson stains from the fabric, sighing if it was seeming to be of no use. Arvin would come up behind her where she was working at the sink, wrapping his strong arms around her middle and resting his head on her shoulder.
“I’m sorry, Arv,” she would start, blowing a stray strand of hair out of her face, “damn thing won’t budge.” Arvin would just chuckle, reaching up a gentle hand, gentle only for her, to tuck the hair behind her ear, quietly speaking.
“Well I think it looks pretty good, darlin’. It’ll do just fine.” He would spin her around to face him, and pepper small kisses on her skin, smiling at her reaction. And if he was hurt, she would take care to use a warm washcloth, wiping the scarlet splatters from his creamy complexion.
The juxtaposition of the shades was always bewildering for her, oddly beautiful in a way. She never said so, though, only muttering praises of how proud she was, how strong he is, things like that. And Arvin would watch her, honey colored eyes following her as she moved about to fix him right up. No pain would have any real effect on him, not when she was there to reassure him, make him whole again.
As Arvin moved up in their small town world, in the “family”, he remained just as kind, just as gentle. Nothing really changed, no, only the lines on his forehead deepening and the crows feet becoming darker when he smiled; And Y/n’s role, as well. She stopped cleaning him up, stopped trying to rid his shirts of bloody reminders of his living. Arvin seemed to no longer be “painting walls’, but rather making sure jobs were done, everyone was staying in their places.
And things led to another, and all of a sudden Y/n and Arvin were moving into a big house, bigger than Arvin had ever even been in before. Deals and arrangements were made, settlements too.
One regular Tuesday, Arvin came home from what Y/n could tell had been a long, long, day. He was exhausted, but had this unmistakable look of excitement and joy plastered to his face. He had come in bursting through the door, not even taking off his hat or overcoat before making his way over to Y/n and kissing her silly.
“Well hello to you, too, Arv.” She laughed, amusement and curiosity both equally swirling around in her brain, wondering what could possibly have inspired this behavior.
“Things are happening, sweetheart, good, good things.” He took her hands in his, briefly shaking them before planting a kiss to them and walking away, a big smile on his face. And truth be told, not that she would admit it, it scared the Hell outta her. She wasn’t quite sure as to why, but something was itching at her brain, warning her that whatever was brewing wasn't a good thing. But nevertheless, she maintained her grin, painted lips never faltering.
The next day, when the “good things” were supposed to be happening, Arvin was seriously wondering why on God’s green Earth he had expected this to be easy.
“Come again, son?”
Arvin swallowed, shifting on his feet. He mentally scolded himself for ending up in this position again, standing in front of the Pastor’s desk, all kinds of confused. But it had to be this way, it was for the best, he knew. The sun shone through the window above the desk in front of him, right into his eyes, nearly blinding him. The Pastor didn’t really care, though.
“I’m asking for your blessing to ask Y/n’s hand in marriage, sir.”
The older man slowly nodded in understanding, taking a long drag from the expensive cigar between his fat fingers, the gold ring on his pinky also shining brightly under the harsh sun’s light.
“I just thought that after our arrangement-”
“Arvin, I don’t regret making you an heir, I don’t.” He stated, blowing out a long stream of smoke. “Hell, I can feel something big and bad coming, boy, you understand? I know God’s will is holding out on us, on this family. But it’s running thin.”
The young man clenched his jaw, internally cringing on what that might mean to the family, for the family, what it meant for Y/n. He bit his tongue, feeling the iron seep onto his taste buds.
“And I know those damn Teagardins are plotting, they’re plotting for our downfall. Making you next in line is something they won’t see coming, and I trust it’ll stay that way. But I don’t quite understand
“Well I love your daughter, I love her so much that it hurts. And if worst comes to worst…” he stopped, his bottom lip wavering for a moment, trying to carefully dance around the different outcomes of this conversation. “I feel I’ll be better able to protect her if we’re married, if she’s truly mine.” That part might have been a lie. Y/n has never been his, never would be. She was her own person, outside Arvin, outside the family. It was what he loved about her above all else.
The Pastor was quiet for a moment contemplating his response, calculating it.
“Would you die for her?”
“Yes.” The answer came without thought, it was automatic for Arvin.
The Pastor smiled widely, lifting his arms.
“So, when’s the wedding, Arv?
Turns out, it was exactly a year, a month, and 6 days until Y/n and Arvin would tie the knot. Arvin had spent time, waiting to find the perfect moment to ask her the big question. He had decided on a night where the moon was bright and the sky was clear. They sat together in what they had donned “their” field, the greenery around them rustling in the wind. Though he was nervous, he had delivered a stunning speech that had taken poor Y/n’s heart by force. It ended up with both of them crying like babies and a shiny ring on Y/n’s finger.
The wedding itself had taken place on a beautiful summer’s day, and Y/n had worn a pretty white dress that had made Arvin almost faint when he saw her, standing there on her father’s arm. She was all decked out in the most expensive diamonds and pearls, courtesy of her father, making her shine like a crystal of sorts.
It was the best night of her life, Arv’s too. But the joy they had felt must have an inevitable end, as the worst night (Arvin’s too) was soon to follow.
It had been an ambush, the death of the Y/l/n family. The death toll had managed to wrack up every member immediate member of the esteemed mob family, including the Pastor, his wife, and their two sons. A bomb planted in the trunk of their Cadillac that had gone off, placed there by who knows.
When Arvin had heard, his immediate reaction was to thank God that Y/n had decided to stay with him that day, to go lay in the fields just the two of them. Immediately after she had been told, she had fallen into Arvin, her entire body weight being put into his arms. Sobs wracked through her frame, her tears dampening Arvin’s yellow button up.
Once she had “come to”, Y/n had grown to be furious rather than sad. As when you look at the lineage of her family, look at the ranks of the mob and who’s to rise to power when the one in front of them dies, well Arvin was right after Y/n’s big brother, Jamie.
And Y/n had loved her big brother, she had loved him very much and would like to believe that Arvin, her sweet, sweet Arvin, would never do anything of that multitude just to satiate his hunger and appetite for power. The hunger for power she wasn’t even aware he possessed. But how in the Hell was she even supposed to be sure?
“I want to believe you, Arv, I do. But I can’t! It don’t make any damn sense, Arvin!”
“You really think that low of me, Y/n/n?”
Y/n had been shouting, trying to confront him for a crime he hadn’t committed. But Arvin was calm as he spoke, his eyes only watering and his voice only bordering on wavering. Y/n reached a trembling hand to her scalp, pulling lightly on her roots. The tears slipping down her face were hot and salty and she hated it so much.
“What else am I supposed to think?” She lifted an arm, sniffling before putting her other one on her waist, the blue of her dress, the same dress Arvin adored so much, just barely matching what was to become of her mood. She was started to regress, the red hot anger from before transforming to a stormy blue of unsure waters.
“My whole family is dead, and it just so happened that you asked me to stay with you the day they died! My whole family is dead!” She screamed, her voice a crescendo of sorts. “And everyone is clean, Arv, except you. You got the motive, you got the alibi, I’ll give you that much.” She paused, briefly wiping her nose and looking to the blank wall to the left of her father’s office. “It’s funny;” she dryly chuckled, and Arvin looked up.
“You went from doing my daddy’s dirty work to gettin’ some poor bastard to do your own. Ironic isn’t it?”
Arvin stepped towards her, pain twisting his insides up to see his best girl afraid of him, cowering away from his touch.
“You still have me, Y/n. I’m your family.”
She looked to her feet and back to him, shaking her head.
“No, Arv. You’re not. And you will be sorry for what you did to him, to all of them. You will be.” She said, walking away with her heels clicking heavily on the wooden floors. Arvin stood still for a while, not quite sure where to go next. But it dawned on him as the stained glass shone down on his feet in the most poetic manner, that he was already there.
So he dragged his feet along with him, breaths ragged and short, his head slowly tilting up towards the glorious light. He only had to go a few feet, before he sat down in the old leather chair, the only emotions he felt being those of an imposter. He thought back to all the nervous conversations he’d had with the pastor while he was sitting in that chair, a trembling Arvin usually standing opposite, awaiting instruction.
He darted his eyes across the mahogany surface in front of him, looking at all the various things that he only could associate with Y/n’s father. His valued cigar box, the crystalline tray that rested next to it. (He swore he could still smell the fresh smoke, wafting from the little dish.) He opened it, the latch clinking before his hand reached in and his fingers clasped around one of the thick rolls of tobacco. Before he could light it, he felt overwhelmed all of a sudden, and dropped it back into the box, slamming the lid.
He laid back, resting his weary head. Arvin took a deep breath through his nose, exhaling through his mouth, before falling into a not so peaceful slumber.
He was only woken minutes later, Joseph, Y/n’s uncle, wanting to know if Arvin had seen her lately. He shook his head, muttering an annoyed “No”. Joseph got the idea relatively quickly, exiting the room. He heard the chapel’s doors close, taking that as his queue to leave once he saw the time. So he grabbed his hat and his coat, leaving the office and making his way through the dimly lit space. His attention was caught, though, by the cross by the front pews, so beautifully shining. Arvin put down his things, and walked over to the pew, sitting down on the uncomfortable hardwood. He bowed his head, putting his interlocked fingers utop the surface in front of him.
He hadn’t done this in awhile, this whole praying thing. It seemed naive in his way of life, with the things that happened around him, the people lost. But nonetheless, if ever, now was a good time to try.
“Heavenly Father, I, I, uh, I need to talk to you. To, uh, set the record straight.” His hands were sweaty, tears welling in his eyes.
“Y/n, she’s- well she’s the love of my life, God, and I don’t think she loves me anymore. Hell, she wants me dead. But I don’t blame her, I couldn’t ever. Not after...” he paused, his bottom lip shaking, “Not if she thinks I killed her family. But I didn’t, Father, I didn’t and I could never. But she don’t see that. I need her to see that.” He raised his voice, the bitter droplets rolling down his reddened cheeks, hitting his shoes.
“I can’t live without her, I won’t. So I guess I’m askin’ you a favor, Lord. Just… let her know I didn’t do it, that I would never hurt her.” His voice cracked, his words barely audible, not that whoever was listening cared.
“That I love her so much.”
Arvin muttered something of an “Amen”, and then just sat there for he wasn’t sure how long. His silence was interrupted by a mellow and raw voice, cutting through the silence like the sharpest dagger.
“It was the Teagardin family. I just found out.”
Arvin stood and turned so fast he dizzied himself, having to hold onto the back of the pew for stability. His bottom lip quivered, his flushed features gaining a confused look.
“Y/n/n? How long you been there?” He questioned, not bothering to wipe his eyes. She shifted from one foot to the other, fumbling with her hands.
“Long enough.”
There was a mutual understanding at her few words from the two of them, and an apology within them all the same. Her eyes were bloodshot, her nose runny and her overall appearance disheveled. Despite that, just the fact that she was there, to him, made her the most beautiful girl in the world.
Arvin could tell she was holding herself back, her emotions, too, as she started to speak, barely able to get through a sentence as she rambled about how she shouldn’t have assumed things, and that it wasn’t right of her to accuse her beloved of something so dire. But none of it mattered to Arvin as he strode towards her, her words only ceasing when he finally wrapped his arms around her.
“I’m so sorry, Arv.” She sobbed, gripping onto him for dear life. That was all she said, repeating it over and over again with the exception of “I love you” also being reiterated.
Her husband spoke over her hushed tone, saying “It’s alright, doll, I know. You were right to think that, it’s not your fault. It was never your fault.” They continued that way for some time until they both regained their bearings, Arvin wrapping an arm around her shoulders and walking down the front stairs of the chapel.
“Let’s go home, sweet girl.” He had said, so they did. Arvin kissed the side of her head, regarding once more how he loved her, before starting the ride home, his hand on her thigh the whole time, not wanting to let her go for even a second.
His mind was plagued with thoughts of the past, and he remembered an old saying he had heard long ago. What was it? Ah, you know what they say.
“Heavy is the head that wears the crown.”
·。·。·。
how we feeling folks did we like? gimme feedback if u wanna! mwah love u, take care of urself
xx hj
#arvin russell#arvin russell x reader#mob!arvin russell#arvin russel x y/n#arvin russel x reader#tdatt fanfiction#tdatt imagine#the devil all the time#the devil all the time fic#tom holland fic#tom holland x reader#mob!tom#mob!tom holland#we will rock queue#watch this flop LOL#tw suicide#tw suicide mention#tw cancer#tw family#tw death#tw smoking
136 notes
·
View notes
Text
Highway to Heaven - Ch. 5
Your best friend Johnny wants to go on a road trip. The only catch? He wants to bring his roommate, Jeong Jaehyun, someone you just couldn’t stand.
Genre: e2l, fluff, angst, smut (18+ only)
Warnings: fingering, swearing
Taglist: @jaehyunnie77 @sehunniepot @jaejoongiewifey-blog @glxwingstar (send me a message if you want to be tagged)
Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4
A/N: A bit of smut in this chapter, but what will it meannnnnn ;)
You woke to arms around you. His breath tickled the back of your neck. He was cuddled into you, his body molded perfectly around you. You didn’t know what to do, you were truly torn. You had to admit it felt nice, to be held by someone again, but you still weren’t sure how you felt about him, and this would certainly be a complication. You shifted slightly, but it was enough to wake him. You could hear him waking up, his consciousness slowly returning, and when he finally realized the position he was in, he froze. He slowly removed his arms from you and turned over in the bed.
“Rise and shine, sleepyheads!” Johnny came into the room, pretending to cover his eyes, “Is there anything going on I should know about?” he questioned innocently, as he threw himself onto the bed in the space between the two of you.
“Grow up,” you complained, getting out of the bed and heading for the bathroom.
“Dude, what happened?” he turned to Jaehyun. You left the room but hovered behind the door, wanting to hear what Jaehyun would say.
“I screwed up! I was doing so well, staying to my side of the bed, but when I woke up I was spooning her!”
“What! Did she know?”
“I don’t know, I took my arms out carefully, she didn’t move, so I don’t know? Ah man, I fucked up. She’s never gonna trust me now.”
“Hey, maybe she didn’t even know? We can only hope.”
“I can’t face her without apologizing though.”
“Suit yourself.”
You heard the bedsprings groan as Johnny got up from the bed, so you ran into the bathroom and closed the door behind you. You sat on the edge of the tub, head in your hands. You’d never been in such turmoil before, it was usually pretty clear to you if you were attracted to someone or not. Jeong Jaehyun, however, threw you for a loop. On the one hand, he was that callous playboy who slept around with women and dumped them at any inconvenience. On the other hand, he was that guy who would hold your hair back as you threw up, the one who would remember the most innocuous things you liked, the one who would stare with wonder at stars. The one who cared about whether or not you would trust him.
“Hey Y/N, hurry it up in there!” Johnny knocked obnoxiously on the bathroom door, “We got sights to see!”
“Gimme a sec,” you called back, turning on the faucet to splash some water on your face. You looked at yourself in the mirror and decided to be resolute. You had to trust your instincts.
When you came out of the bathroom Jaehyun was on the balcony. The morning breeze was fluttering his hair, his bangs falling into his eyes, which were closed. He was leaning on the railing, in a plain white tee that hugged his shoulders, the hem of it waving slightly in the wind, threatening to give you a view of his perfect abs. You looked away quickly, grabbing your suitcase and heading for the door, hoping he wouldn’t notice you. No such luck.
“Y/N!” he called, coming back into the room. His hair was now mussed from the wind, a bedhead look that would be unattractive on anyone but on him, it just increased his attractiveness. It almost made you angry. “Hey, I just wanted to apologize for last night.”
You faced him, your emotions warring in your gut. “Don’t mention it.” You said in the calmest voice possible.
“I really didn’t mean to-”
“I know.”
“I just need you to know-”
“I get it, Jaehyun. Let’s just forget about it, okay?” You walked away, leaving him standing alone in the room.
---
That day was spent at a local market, the three of you navigating through the stalls of fresh fruits and vegetables and various homemade goods. Once in a while one of you would stop and peruse the wares, or try samples offered by the food sellers. Jaehyun gave you space, not overtly avoiding you though, which you found you were thankful for. He’d sometimes point out things to you and you would just nod before walking away, missing the lingering looks he would give you. At one point Johnny went off to look at some leather goods, leaving you and Jaehyun alone at a fruit stand.
“Would your girlfriend like to try some?” the fruit seller had offered Jaehyun a sample of their peaches, and had gestured towards you, standing behind him.
“Hm? Oh, she’s not my girlfriend,” he offered politely, “just a friend.” The seller apologized, and the two of them continued to engage in conversation about the fruit.
You stood there, feeling like someone had just stabbed you in the chest. There was a dull throb that at any other time you might have thought was a heart attack, but you’d felt it before and you knew exactly what it was. You could feel your face getting hot, ridiculous tears pooling in your eyes. You willed them not to fall, and thankfully they listened.
Johnny came over then, and seeing the look on your face he opened his mouth to ask what was wrong but you stopped him.
“Hey I’m just gonna go back and find that stall that sells soap, you guys stay here I’ll catch up with you later.” You turned and walked away quickly, not giving them the chance to protest.
By the time you had found the soap stall you had calmed down, still determined not to let whatever you were feeling for Jaehyun come to the surface. You’d picked out some soaps and decided to wait for them back at the car. Eventually they came back, talking and laughing over something they had seen.
“Let’s go, I’m hungry,” you called out, getting into the passenger’s seat as Johnny got into the driver’s seat. When he caught your eye he mouthed are you okay? You nodded and he didn’t press any further, knowing that sometimes you needed your space.
You didn’t offer much to the conversation for the rest of the night, not at dinner at the local taqueria, not even when you were all choosing the local motel for the night.
“You guys choose,” was all you said, and soon enough you were pulling up to the gaudy neon sign of the closest roadside motel.
“I managed to get a room with two beds this time! Are you proud of me, Y/N?” Johnny poked you in the side teasingly, but you weren’t in the mood for his jokes.
“Just remember that I’m not sleeping with you,” you warned.
When you got to the room you let the two of them wash up first, wanting to take a long hot shower to soothe yourself. Before you went into the bathroom the two of them were in the same bed, but when you came out Johnny had moved to the other bed, his long limbs splayed out so there was no room for anyone else. Both were asleep. You sighed, thinking about kicking Johnny in the head for being an ass, but thought better of it. Jaehyun was on his side, and even though he wasn’t the smallest person, he was so tucked into himself he took up very little of the bed.
Screw it, you thought, and just laid down on the bed beside Jaehyun. You were too tired for this and sure enough you fell asleep seconds after your head hit the pillow.
---
You were dreaming and you knew it, but it felt so real. His hands were warm on your skin, caressing your naked stomach, reaching down further, parting your legs. Before he could reach your core you woke with a start, not realizing you had cried out in your sleep until you looked over and Jaehyun was staring at you, his eyes practically bulging out of their sockets.
“Y/N?” he whispered, “Are you okay?”
You huffed in frustration. “Fine.”
“Were you having a nightmare?” he asked softly, “You almost screamed.”
“No, it wasn’t that kind of dream,” you sighed.
“What kind of dream was it?” he asked innocently.
“Don’t worry about it,” you snapped, and he took the hint and turned over.
You, however, were still aroused from the dream, and it was making you frustrated beyond belief. You had to finish yourself if you were going to have any peace, so you looked over to make sure he couldn’t see. Satisfied that what you would be doing wasn’t in his viewpoint, you slipped your hand down your panties and dipped your fingers into your pussy. Sure enough you were wet from the dream, and so you proceeded to finger fuck yourself, but in that position your fingers just couldn’t reach your g spot and it made you even more frustrated. You swore under your breath, and suddenly it hit you that the person in the bed next to you definitely had long enough fingers to reach. You must have been delirious with arousal to even consider it, but you were beyond rational thought at this point.
“Jaehyun,” you whispered, but he didn’t respond, so you shook his shoulder lightly. He turned to you.
“What’s wrong?” he asked sleepily.
“I need your help,” you whispered, and he propped himself up on his elbow to look at you.
“Of course, what do you need?” he whispered back.
“I need you to help me get off.”
You could barely make it out in the dim light but he was blinking his eyes rapidly, shaking his head at the same time. He was definitely malfunctioning.
“I’m sorry, did I hear you correctly-”
“Yes, I need you to finger me until I climax, can you do that?” you clarified. You could feel your arousal slipping away and you were desperate.
“I mean, yeah, but are you sure? What does this mean for our relationship?”
“Listen, I’m horny as hell right now and I can’t even think about that. This is going to be awkward either way, whether you agree to it or not, at least if you do it I’ll have gotten an orgasm out of it.” Your argument was twisted but he contemplated it and seemed to be swayed.
“I guess that’s true…” he agreed, and you almost whooped in relief.
“Great, here, give me your hand.”
He obliged, and lifting your shirt, you took his hand and placed it palm down on your bare stomach. He inhaled sharply when he made contact with your skin, and the same feeling from the dream returned to you.
“Mm, that’s good,” you moaned softly, which emboldened him. His hand moved independently now, slowly down, and you squirmed in anticipation as he got closer.
“That’s it,” you encouraged, as his fingers reached your folds and he began to part them.
“You’re so wet,” he whispered in awe, and when you moaned again he slid two fingers in. Your back arched off the bed, a silent scream dying in your throat as he started to pump his fingers inside you.
You pressed your lips together to keep from making a sound, not wanting to wake Johnny, but you could feel an intense orgasm coming on. Jaehyun’s fingers were heavenly, hitting you directly in that spot that made your toes curl. You pulled at the sheets as the pleasure in your gut ramped up.
“That’s it,” Jaehyun whispered in your ear, “Come for me, baby.” The combination of his magic fingers, the low tone of his voice, and the term of endearment sent you spiralling. Stars exploded behind your closed eyelids as you had the strongest orgasm of your life at that point, your body shaking, pussy clenching around Jaehyun’s fingers.
He let you come down from your high before he removed his fingers, and you sighed softly at the loss. He got out of the bed quietly and came back with a damp towel to help clean you up, gently wiping away your arousal. When he was done he pulled the covers back over you and smiled.
“Sleep now,” he whispered, because your eyelids were fluttering, and the last thing you remember before you fell into slumber was his fingers ghosting along your cheek.
216 notes
·
View notes
Text
please know that i’m yours to keep | oikawa tooru
synopsis: a comfort for the days you feel like you’re everything but what you try so hard to be.
genre: fluff, comfort | warnings: suggestive themes | wc: 2000+
characters: oikawa tooru
a/n: this is a commissioned piece from @triskoof ;w;
the girl | city in colour
ko-fi | commissions
Because you’re always meant to be yours, Oikawa Tooru loves you in the way that reminds you of that.
Like the tips of his fingers just barely grazing the skin on your face, he has a habit of pulling back before fully cupping your cheek. The kind of warmth that hovers—never touches—but still lingers.
Moments like now are where you’re glad that traces of him still stay, because it reminds you that his presence was meant to be one of the things that was lasting within a world that truly was anything but.
“I don’t feel beautiful,” you say, and Oikawa thinks the look in your eyes holds nothing but your most vulnerable truth.
And he supposes that he understands, because our thoughts aren’t just thoughts at the end of the day. Intertwined with them are the emotions that come as feelings, with the intention to be felt to the end and not just realized as a passing epiphany.
So, “Beautiful,” he replies, tasting the word on his tongue before swallowing it whole hoping that the heart from his truth would reach the words he always holds for you.
And he’s gentle, with not just the look in his eye, but also his honesty, when he says, “You.”
He cups your face in between his hands, and warm, you think.
They’re warm, because he’s here, and because he’s true.
He kisses you; the first on your forehead, right as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you close. The second, on the tip of your nose, as he says the word beautiful, again, right before he mutters your name.
Your name, Hailey, as just six letters from the alphabet strung together to make a sound just this morning, but suddenly turned into your whole truth laid bare as Oikawa kisses you again.
You realize that it’s your truth in not just the objective sense, but more so because it’s one of the few things that would always be your constant.
“You’re beautiful,” Oikawa mutters again, then lets his face hover just inches away from yours as he leans down, pressing his lips against yours. Phrases from him to you, which speak of not just his love, but also both his respect and awe, are mumbled in between the kisses he gives you.
In his arms you keep yourself still—pliant, even, as you let your body mold into his arms. And you feel safe, doing so. The thoughts in your head simmer from screaming into just whispers, but even as you still hear them poke and prod at you, Oikawa’s voice is what’s immediate in thundering over those which are unwelcome.
“Why aren’t you nice to yourself?” he asks, and in your moment of absolute vulnerability, you look at him and allow yourself to crack.
You don’t necessarily break, because you’ve always believed that a person can never fully be broken, but the cracks of your hurt run deeper in some places. The word beautiful rings in your head, like an echo you can’t seem to get rid of, but you want to shake it away.
Glassy brown eyes mean to peer at you and offer comfort, but it’s the ugly cracks of your resolve that come to you and whisper in your ear that you are anything but beautiful, when you see a reflection of yourself against them.
“Sometimes,” you sigh, taking the liberty of pulling yourself back and parting from him, “—it’s just hard to feel like you’re something.”
“Beautiful feels like a different person, Tooru,” you confess.
“Have you always felt this way?” he asks, ushering you to follow him to bed and making space for you to lie down in beside him. When you settle, he lies beside you, his face just inches away from yours once more.
“Some days,” you express, shrugging your shoulders. “Yeah.”
Your some days, meaning that there really are moments where it feels like you have to constantly tell yourself that you are still beautiful that it becomes redundant enough to the point of sound like a drawl.
Tonight’s one of those days.
You’re a little more cracked than composed, so you let yourself be and hang on to Oikawa who you know has never wavered.
Intimacy in the little moments shared like this, but because today you feel like you’re everything but what you should be feeling and seeing things in every way but the way you should be seeing them—like yourself—you close your eyes when your reflection flashes across Oikawa’s again.
Intimacy like trust, because you know here, you are safe.
His palm that’s quick to move up and rest against the expanse of your cheek says “I love you.”
But it’s his voice, that makes his truth be known through words as he says, “You’re always gonna be beautiful.”
“Not for now,” you shake your head.
Oikawa chuckles, murmuring something you couldn’t quite catch as he leans forward again to press a kiss at the tip of your nose. In response, you close your eyes, comfortable in the warmth he emits.
“For now is just that,” he hums. “You can’t always be on your own side or see things in the lighter way, but I’m here,” he smiles. “My eyes are open and they still you.”
“My beautiful girl,” he adds.
Through the strands of your hair that fell across your eyes, you see Oikawa offer you his honest kind of smile before propping himself up on one elbow to lean over you. He moves with purpose, but keeps his eyes on yours.
When he gets close enough, he smiles, again, and even if the thoughts in your head still rage with the intention to nestle within the cracks they made to grow and root themselves, you push them to the side in hopes they would quell.
(They don’t.)
But Oikawa’s voice reaching out to you—and arriving, hushes them again.
In the silence he builds with his words and presence alone, you release the tenseness of your muscles and sigh, holding up one hand just as Oikawa lets his down, both of your palms cradling the other’s cheeks.
Then it’s within the darkness where the two of you lay, eye to eye and face to face as the sunset in the sky shifts into the beginnings of the blue hour.
The blue hour, you recall, is the time of day that happens in the morning and night. The in between that bridges night and day, setting the scene for the transition. From black to blue at six AM, right before the sky erupts into shades of vanilla. Then, when it’s six at night—like right now, it’s the burnt orange of today’s sunset mellowing into the depth of blue.
You know it’ll turn dark soon.
But you stare straight into Oikawa’s eyes anyway, hoping to drown out the sounds of your demons with the hues of earth and reflected fragments of the sky within the two perfect orbs that look at you, as if you hold constellations.
In the blue hour—the inbetween—you let yourself be still and fall.
And at the sight of your surrender, Oikawa leans down and kisses you. His lips on your neck, starting from the spot right behind your ear, trailing down to the tops of your collarbone, he mumbles your name in between the traces of him he intertwines with you.
His name, from your lips, sounding like just a breathless whisper to the ears of the world is like a sort of lifeline for him to hang on to, because through the haze he’s aware you probably are seeing the world with in your moments of weakness—you still are with him.
So he holds you.
His legs on either side of your waist, and arms on either sides of you, he nips at the skin of your exposed neck, leaving a mark. “You’re beautiful like this,” he winks at you, all the while as you laugh, knowing full well that his words are fueled with the intent to lighten the situation.
It works, because in the soft light of the blue hour, you wait as he raises his head from your chest, your stare steady, meaning to lock with his. At the sight of you, Oikawa holds your gaze, a light smile against his lips.
“You’re just saying that,” you laugh, peering down and moving your hands to brush away his bangs that fell across his eyes.
At the sight of your earth—your world within this world—you soften. It’s only as you peered underneath the underneath where you realized that Oikawa was just a man who still had his flaws beneath the porcelain mask he wore.
“I say things because I mean them,” he tells you, and from the steadiness of his voice, there’s nothing in you that tells you to doubt him.
So you do the logical thing and believe him.
In the blue hour you make your hurts be known, finding words to string together to atleast give the hurt a name, and Oikawa listens.
But none the less, he tells you you’re beautiful, through the silence that he blankets around the room, and by the way he moves with you. He kisses you on your forehead again, tenderly, before capturing your lips with his. And love, you think—right then and there—has always felt like patience with him.
Slow kisses under your ceiling with the glow in the dark stickers in the shape of distant galaxies and stars, it has you feeling infinite.
His hands that know the contour of your body: from the dip on your waist to the scar that’s barely even there right by your thigh. He touches you like he would glass, fragile. And he breathes your name like he would whisper his confessions—and you know they’re all of love.
(You are in love.)
As in love as you are, you also are reminded that emotions can move like waves.
One day you feel beautiful, then in the next you don’t.
Emotions will always be raw, because at the very core of what they are—that’s just their nature. The ugly parts of it can come like a whirlwind some days instead of creep in slow and slam against your foundations, getting cracks to form in deep.
But, the beautiful will still remain, you think.
Beautiful like the earth of Oikawa’s eyes staring at you as if you hold all the constellations in the skies.
The silence comes and goes, and beautiful is the way he holds you when night comes and darkness floods the room. He still feels you against him, your skin a familiar kind of warmth against his, while the calluses of his palms don’t scare you even as he trails them under your shirt and over the bare skin of your chest.
“You’re beautiful,” he says again, and Oikawa knows that it’s only been those two words that you’ve heard from him again and again throughout the night, but the more he wracks his brain for a better set of words to say—the less actually comes to him.
He tries to show you, none the less.
And it isn’t just in the intimacy of sex where he lays himself bare to you too, but it’s also through this that he hopes to convey his whole truth to you, in hopes that you’d see you through his eyes to get you through the aches of your today.
Oikawa’s aware that perhaps tomorrow, you’ll rise again.
But it’s this for now where he reminds you of the infinity he’s always known you’ve held.
“I love you,” when he pushes inside you, and “I love you,” again, when he hears you sniffle at the emotions that he knows just overwhelm.
“You’re beautiful,” you know he means to say when he leans down anyway and brushes the hair away from your forehead to press his against it. “You’re beautiful,” you hear again, when his thumb brushes over the scars you know have long healed across your body, then at the shell of your ear right after he whispers your name, again.
(And your name is beautiful.)
Most days you think it is, but because today it’s a word that’s a little hard to say, you hang on to him and allow his truth to come to you and wrap you whole.
Oikawa feels you hold on to him, so he holds you too—centering you back to the now.
You’re probably a mess underneath him, you think. Lipstick from earlier still wasn’t wiped off and he’s probably kissed you a hundred times now. Your clothes are crumpled, your shirt pushed up at best and your underwear just shoved to the side in his haste, but he says beautiful again, and again, as if it’s the first he’s truly seeing you.
(Perhaps it is.)
(The face of vulnerability has always looked different every time, after all.)
The now is a moment of vulnerability, so you let him hold you.
And because Oikawa knows you’re always meant to be yours, he shows that he loves you forever, by holding you and giving you a safe space to just feel the things that come.
“I don’t feel okay,” is your moment of weakness, because you’re still human.
But in Oikawa’s wordless way of conveying “I love you,” and “You’re beautiful,” do you feel the assurance that even though days like this come and try to drown you—you’ll always have your boy with two eyes holding the earth who will keep your head from going under.
#nc.commissions#haikyuu#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu scenarios#haikyuu imagines#hq x reader#hq scenarios#hq imagines#oikawa tooru#oikawa tooru x reader#oikawa tooru scenarios#oikawa tooru fluff#oikawa tooru imagines#oikawa#oikawa x reader#oikawa scenarios#oikawa fluff
128 notes
·
View notes
Text
just once
pairing: gojou satoru/reader
genre: smut
you weren't one to engage in one night stands, especially with strangers and well known fuck boys. heck, you don't even think about it, you just know so damn well that you would never want to get involved with them, dreading the thought that you might get feelings, only to be a check mark on their list.
but when gojou satoru came in the room, and his eyes were fixed on you, and only you, you can't help but think that maybe you can make an exception just this one time.
he hasn't even done or said anything yet, but you already feel so down for whatever he has in store. you aren't one to jump in to conclusions and assume that someone is interested in you, but the way his gorgeous blue eyes focused on you and only you as he walked inside the room, you just know it.
he is only proving your theory to be true when he sat on the chair beside you.
gojou satoru doesn’t count as a stranger since he’s a previous classmate and current workmate, but it has been well-established among your group of friends that he's one hell of a fuck boy. he's literally the no-strings-attached kind of guy, and you can say this is a fact because your mutual friend, which is satoru's best friend, ieri shouko, has told you that a one night stand is really just a one night stand for satoru, just a way to relieve his needs, no love, no romance, no feelings. he simply just doesn't really care. oh and also, he has never fucked a girl twice.
honestly, before today, he was someone in your to-avoid list. although you acknowledge that he’s very attractive, you never really paid much attention to guys who gave off arrogant vibes, so you barely interacted with him. you knew to yourself that you'd rather not get involved with someone like him. hearing the stories about satoru just made you feel nauseous, you've always thought of him as an asshole who only thinks with his dick. he's the strongest jujutsu sorcerer, yeah, but you give absolutely zero shit about that.
he's a heartbreaker... but if you were going to be honest, it's not like he's the only one to blame. he didn't really intentionally make the people he slept with fall in love with him.
you also heard from shouko that satoru always makes sure to tell his one night stand partner about the no strings attached rule. however, some still end up falling in love with him, or on some cases, they're already in love with him even before it happened.
fell in love with satoru?
it's their fault. in satoru's defense, he made sure to tell them to not fall.
it's satoru's fault. in their defense, satoru obviously led them on.
now that you think about it, besides stories about his sexual activity and the number of confessions he turned down, you don't really know much about him.
he always gave off a confident and pompous vibe, but whenever you had your little interactions with him, he actually seemed a bit decent. however, that was probably only because he knew how to separate his personal life from work.
but honestly, he is the strongest jujutsu sorcerer, and on top of that, he has an ethereal face and an excellent body proportion. he has all reasons to be extremely confident.
"hi." the blue-eyed man started, removing his blindfold to change it with his shades.
your theory? so far, he's only proving it to be true. he definitely had his eyes on you.
you were feeling extremely and unusually conscious, but of course you try to hide it by acting like a bitch.
your eyebrows knit slightly as you take a look at him from the corner of your eye. "what?"
okay, now, you're starting to wonder if he's actually trying to flirt with you, or just become all buddy buddy with you. maybe you’re just being a mean bitch for no reason.
his eyes widened subtly at your response, probably not expecting such a dry and a bit rude answer. "you look cute today." he whispers.
his breath didn’t touch your ear, but it still sent shivers down your spine. you don’t let it physically show, but your paranoid ass is thinking he might’ve been able to sense it through cursed energy.
you wanted to roll your eyes to the point of seeing your brain inside your head, but you don't, and obviously, you can't.
"thanks?" you sneered.
you definitely don't want to deal with any bullshit and unnecessary feelings, so you at least try to ward him off while you still can.
"ah, sorry. are you in a bad mood?"
irked, you decided to ignore him, not knowing how to respond to his question. why is he trying to talk to you, in the first place?
your conversations with him were always brief and professional, mostly just to cooperate on a mission. you barely even looked at each other during those times. so you being cold and rude right now was a bit surprising to him. you're not usually like this, but it's the only thing you can do to try not to give in to his flirting.
well, sorry to him, you absolutely hate guys who try to get in your pants. no past bad experience or whatever, but you really don't like them. their style is just not your cup of tea. you’re someone who needs the emotional and wholesome connection before doing some... stuff.
and maybe that’s why you’re still a virgin. suguru is just a friend, ijichi and kusakabe are simply not your style, and nanami, oh, nanami. he’s the one who comes the closest to your type, but he just ain’t it, as well. you wanted someone who can deal with your jokes and occasional sarcastic remarks. you wanted a bit of playfulness.
"okay, i guess it's already obvious and i shouldn't have asked that."
you've never thought about it, but being the one on the receiving end of gojou satoru's attention actually feels different. now you feel a bit of regret for being mean.
you didn’t reply to him in any way, and he didn’t bother prodding anymore after.
you don’t know if you’re pleased or dismayed about this.
honestly though, you badly wanted to indulge him and flirt back. you just don't do so because how were you supposed to do that now, with all that’s been said and done.
glancing at him discreetly, you noticed that it seems like it doesn’t really matter for him, whether you ignored him or not.
good, you think to yourself, sighing in relief about the fact that gojou doesn’t care much about you. at least you feel chill now.
-
an hour has passed and the meeting has come to an end. not another word has been exchanged between the two of you.
you couldn’t wait to get the fuck out of that room.
you hurriedly stood up and headed to where the door was, but the superiors and older officials were heading out first, so you were just standing there in the middle of the room, somehow stranded.
you were walking in place because of impatience, when suddenly, you felt a large hand wrap around your wrist.
startled, you flinched at the sudden skin contact. your hyperawareness was at its peak since gojou satoru was just standing right behind you, you were very conscious of what the fuck he’s doing.
“oh. sorry, did i startle you?” he immediately pulled his hand away, raising it slightly.
'yes, insect, go away.'
“no. what is it?” you said in a rushed manner.
“are you in a hurry?” he asked. he wasn’t being sarcastic, but you wanted to punch him, nonetheless. why can’t he just let you be?
“can you stay?”
you felt your heart jump to your throat.
'what the fuck.'
all of a sudden, you can be compared to a statue. you were incredibly flustered, feeling all the blood flowing so fast in your body at his question.
now, the sexual tension, for you, has rose to very high levels, to the point that your tongue refuses to move.
you can’t even think straight right now.
“satoru, y/n, aren’t you two going to head out?” principal yaga indifferently asked, his head peeking on the door.
you didn’t know what to say in response, and gojou didn’t say anything either, so the principal only shrugged and closed the door behind him.
sighing, you internally thanked principal yaga for breaking the heavy atmosphere that was rapidly building up for you.
“i’ll get going, then.” you said, roughly pulling your hand away from satoru.
when you were already near the door, he suddenly appeared next to it and opened it for you.
with a small frown on your face, your mouth fell agape, what the fuck does he want?
it’s not like it’s the first time someone has ever showed you this kind of attention. it’s just simple and basic interaction. you were just getting all worked up because it’s gojou satoru. gorgeous fucking shit.
the heck is he opening the door for?
he's someone who you can't even call a gentleman. he always carefully chose the people he'll be nice to. a pretty woman can trip in front of him, and he won't bother giving two shits, he won't help her if he doesn't feel like it. he's the type to not respect old people just because they're old people.
but the thing is, you do know he’s not a bad person. he’s just... rude and annoying, and has his own way in doing stuff, but he’s actually a good person. his intentions are harmless, you know it.
nonetheless, you still don't want any personal involvement with him.
however, your own body is telling you otherwise.
the warmth that was increasingly becoming unbearable down your core is starting to reach its limits, as well as the rational part in you. so, as if you weren’t trying your very best to avoid him just a few seconds ago, you closed the door with your own hand, “what is it?”
you were thinking, maybe he just wants to talk about something in private. maybe it's nothing bed-related. maybe you were just overthinking.
“do you want me to get straight to the point?” he asked with lidded eyes, looking down on you intensely.
actually, at this point, you were sure. your theory is absolutely correct. he’s definitely giving you the bedroom eyes.
holy shit.
he bends down to your level, his face just a few inches away from yours.
“i want you.”
satoru says this with such intensity that you had to pause for a second to swallow the lump that got caught in your throat.
the longer you look into his eyes, the more you want to succumb to the hints of pleasure that was starting to build up down there.
but first of all, you had to at least clear this up. you needed to be sure. maybe it’s just a misunderstanding on your part.
“want me? uh, what exactly do you want from me?”
gojou noticed that your question was completely innocent, it had no underlying meaning.
he pulls away, removing his shades to examine your face carefully, amusement painted on his features.
at the same time, you also get the chance to scan his face. he sure is handsome. his eyes are so fucking beautiful, you could get lost in it.
the man probably has no idea that you have zero experience in these kind of... activities. though, to him, you seemed like someone carefree and wild. it's probably because sometimes, you sounded like a thirsty hoe when talking about crushes with friends. little does he know that all of your knowledge just came from watching and reading.
you were expecting him to get annoyed, to just walk away, and look for someone else out there to indulge him. but to your surprise, he chuckled.
'is he making fun of me right now?'
gojou finds it amusing... and cute, even, that you can make casual talk in a situation like this. he knew that you were trying to reassure yourself.
the sexual tension between the two of you was just so thick, it has been building up so fast ever since you and gojou made eye contact.
it sounds absurd, but it’s true.
"is it alright if i kiss you?" he simply said, giving you the reassurance that you needed.
eyes widening, your mouth dropped slightly at the question.
maybe your heart jumped a little at the request and the gentleness his tone gave off, who knows.
"if you don't want to--"
mind completely going blank, you rudely cut him off, pulling the neckline of his top to press your lips against his abruptly.
feeling him smirk against your mouth, you quickly pulled away in embarrassment, the realness of your actions suddenly sinking inside your brain.
you were about to head straight for the door as the rational part of you has realized that you actually kissed the fucking douchebag gojou satoru.
neither of you were even drunk, you should have known much better.
the plan was for naught, though, when said man’s long fingers wrapped around your face, gently making you look up at him as he bent down to reconnect his lips with yours.
satoru’s lips were softer than expected, and it moved smoothly against yours. the prick definitely knew what he was doing. so, without hesitating, you kiss him back, letting your lips mold together fervently.
he started kissing down your chin and onto your jaw, pausing just at the base below your ear, biting and sucking at the skin firmly.
you knew deep inside your mind that it was definitely going to leave a mark. but you decided to brush it off and just think about it later.
the rational part of you is screaming that you're going to regret this the next day. not even a drop of alcohol is in your system right now. you have absolutely zero excuses to use as to why you're actually giving in to full-of-shit-fuck-boy gojou satoru right now.
“the door is not locked, you know, we might get caught,” satoru whispers just right in front of your ear, his breath sending shivers down your spine as he started to shamelessly grind against you.
right, you both were still at the meeting room.
“yeah. so, get the fuck off of me.” you said in a hushed tone.
despite the words that were coming out of your own mouth, you just stood there, stiff like a statue, feeling his member grow harder. you didn’t know if you wanted to push him away, or pull him closer.
well, at least it means that your self-control is still somehow working.
however, the warmth that was building up down your core was clouding your mind, making your body refuse to move.
you were about to enclose your arms around his neck, when a loud noise was made. you felt your heart drop to your gut, roughly pushing him away as your face started to lose all colors at the thought that there might be someone else at the place, and that you both might get caught.
"don't worry. that was just a rat." he mumbled, looking at you with bedroom eyes.
"h-how can you say for sure?"
with a smirk painted on his annoying face, he bends down once again, but this time, he placed his hands on the backside of your thighs, lifting you up to wrap your legs around his waist. "i'm gojou satoru."
with his smug reassurance, relief washed over you and calmed your panicked state.
this time, you were the one who crashed your mouth against his, successfully circling your arms around his neck this time.
you were incredibly turned on with everything. the position he has put you in is definitely not helping with you trying to resist him. fucking fuck boy.
when you finally noticed the presence of the aching heat that has grown too strong to ignore in between your legs, you grind your hips onto his, sighing at the much needed friction.
gojou groaning at the action has only worsened the situation. again, the rational part of you knows that you will regret this the next day, but at this point, you were already in too deep to even back out. well, maybe you aren't that deep yet, but yeah. you thought that you might as well just finish what you’ve already started, and save the regrets for later.
satoru sat down on the floor with his back on the wall, making it easy for you to move on top of him, with you straddling his hips.
feeling completely lost in how good it felt, your eyes shot open when his tongue went inside your mouth and met yours, sending a powerful wave of electrifying pleasure straight down to your core.
trying to muffle your moans to not stroke his ego was extremely difficult, especially when his hard cock keeps on rubbing your already sensitive clit through your panties and pants.
the friction was driving you mad, making you pull at his hair aggressively, as you grind on him harder and faster to make the most out of the pleasure.
you could say the same for satoru, his hands traveled down your body, landing on your ass to squeeze it firmly. he pushed you down even more, needy, as he thrusts his hips upward to grind his swollen cock on your pussy.
you looked at satoru, his beautiful blue eyes were lidded, and focused only your face—as if he was trying to memorize the face that you were making.
"y/n... shit... more, please..." a deep groan escaped his lips as you roll your hips hard against his. "ngh, please do that again."
"l-let's make this quick, satoru, a-ah... i'm pretty close." you tried to say coherently, genuinely just wanting to reach your own release get this over with.
without hesitation, satoru starts thrusting his hips fast, picking up his pace. "as you wish. i'm close, too." he breathes, letting out a shaky sigh.
taking a close look at satoru, you see that his beautiful eyes were lidded, and focused only your face—as if he was trying to memorize the face that you were making.
the fact that you can make the arrogant and self-centered fuck boy, gojou satoru, beautiful man and strongest jujutsu sorcerer, pleading for pleasure is incredibly satisfying, and he hasn't even entered you yet. you both still have your clothes on, and you were only dry humping him, yet he was so fucking close to coming undone.
you closed your eyes in ecstasy, biting your bottom lip to at least try to muffle an incredibly loud moan, walls squeezing at nothing as you felt yourself come undone, wetness definitely soaking your panties.
satoru rubs himself onto you harder to make sure you ride your high to the fullest, his own thrusts losing rhythm, as he reaches for his own climax.
"you feel s-so good- ahh... fuck..." desperately surging forward rapidly a couple more times, he groans deeply as his seed shot out of his cock, and onto staining his loose white jogging pants.
it takes you a full minute to recover from what just happened. then you untangle your legs from his waist to stand up in front of him. "uh... bye?"
you turn around, heading straight for the door.
satoru follows you with his gaze. "that was great, y/n."
looking back, the two of you only stared at each other. "you didn't even get to put it in yet, satoru." you said, a smug smile tugging at the corner of your lips.
a blush blossomed on his face, embarrassment evident. "shut up, y/n."
"okay. bye."
"wanna do it again?"
"no."
and then you dashed out of the room, sick feeling of regret suddenly starting to bubble over your head.
but at the same time, you also feel sick at the fact that maybe you actually liked it.
#gojou satoru#jjk#jujutsu kaisen x reader#gojou satoru x reader#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x reader#satoru x reader#omg what have i done#pls i might rewrite this#like rlly#literal word vomit#just a spur of the moment..... bcs gojou satoru........... !!!!#this rlly escalated fast LOL#might edit
67 notes
·
View notes
Text
Fall Into You (M) - 01
pairing: jaebeom x you
genre: romance, angst, series, eventual smut
synopsis: Your love life has been filled with nothing but bad experiences. Determined to give up on the idea of finding the one you meet a man who is desperate to change your mind and have you see him as more.
word count: 5.0k
This was it, you thought. It was something you had feared for months, something you wanted so desperately to not be true. You felt empty, dead, barren, all the things you told yourself you would never be, yet here you were.
The thought had finally occurred to you as you felt your recent Tinder meetup thrust inside of you. His name was Xavier, a Spanish entrepreneur in his mid-20’s who just so happened to be in town testing a study group on his latest business venture. Yet the only thing this man had come close to doing all night was testing your patience. From his sleaze-ball attitude to the way he aggressively attempted to fuck you. Let’s just say you were grateful he couldn’t see your distasteful facial expression as he took you from behind.
You were depleted of all emotions in this moment as the man attempted to make love to your empty womb. You didn’t even feel anger or sadness at this point, your body felt like some sort of abandoned amusement park. The rides and attractions were there for everyone to see, they were just void of life. You feared that eventually, a dead body would feel warm compared to yours. The fear for you was so real, so scary, to think that you were just some damaged goods.
You started to feel suffocated from the motel’s disgustingly tacky red satin bed sheets that your head was currently being shoved deeper and deeper into. So you decided to end this God-awful encounter early. Sitting your body up causes the poor Xavier to lose his rhythm effectively allowing you to overtake power and position his dumbfounded body beneath you. Luckily the man lasted about as long as you had the capacity for, he gripped your hips tightly, possibly leaving a bruise, causing you to at least enjoy one sensation that night.
Once the man had finished he attempted to grab your naked form in one could only assume to be a cuddle, you had absolutely no capacity to even humor the idea. Feigning an early morning you quickly gathered your things and headed directly for the door, not so much as even pretending to want to see him ever again.
The walk of shame. 3 AM, unknown neighborhoods, brisk weather, and a clearer state of mind all accompanied you on your walk home. You officially felt at a total loss with yourself. You had tried the relationship thing, the casual dating, and now here you were attempting one-night-stands, and yet nothing helped you feel complete.
“If only he could see me now,” you say quietly to no one in particular.
Morning light hits you like a bucket of cold water. Apparently in your self-loathing state last night you completely neglected to change out of your cocktail dress and close your blinds. You groan audibly pulling your plush pillow to cover your head from the obscene light. The damage had already been done, you were now officially awake and forced to begin your day.
Dragging yourself to your bathroom you start by turning the shower to the hottest temperature possible and begin to strip from your attire. The woman staring back at you in the mirror is one that you had unfortunately been well acquainted with recently. With the smudged raccoon eyes and red nose that had broken through last night’s foundation, she was an absolute mess.
You scrub and scrub your body under the hot water as if it were some kind of remedy for the way you felt inside. No matter how raw you made your skin you still couldn’t erase the emptiness you felt throughout your core.
That is enough, you think to yourself. Enough of this vile attitude that you had towards yourself. Did you really need to remind yourself daily about what an amazing life you had? A great job, amazing friends, and a beautiful apartment in which you shared rent with a great roommate. Had you really stooped low enough in your womanhood that you would consider yourself empty just because you lacked the place of a man? Your mother would be so disappointed if she could see you now.
You had grown so tired of these men. Hanging in doorways, standing too close to you, their breaths thick with alcohol. Men who didn't come to the emergency room with you, men who left you alone on Christmas. Men who slammed their bedroom doors, who made you love them then changed their minds. You decided you would no longer let this gender be oppressive, you were a warrior.
“Well someone got in late last night,” your roommate, Sofie, called to you over her morning coffee. You had just made your way down to the kitchen in need of caffeine to help break through your early morning fog.
“Please don’t remind me,” you say to her as you begin searching for a clean mug.
“What? Did you not like this guy? Was he not good in be-”
You cut her off promptly by slamming the cabinet door, yourself being surprised by your own actions you turn to face her.
“I’m sorry I just really don’t feel like talking about it.”
Sofie nods her head in understanding instantly making a pool of guilt form in your stomach from the way you acted. This aggression was a new thing of yours that you had yet to get used to. Rage had begun to take a grip on your life, and on your friendships. You never wanted to be this way. It sickened you to imagine you would have ever become a person to hurt a close friend of yours because you couldn’t contain the fire that you felt inside.
“I’m really sorry Sofie I didn’t mean to snap it’s just-” your words stop as Sofie patiently waits.
“Last night was hard because it made me realize,” you take a big breath, “I am broken.”
“Sweetie you are not broken! You have just been burned, badly might I add, and you are having a hard time coming to terms with it that’s all.”
Is that all? Could Sofie finally have cracked the code that all of this just so happened to stem from one incident? There was no way you could allow this to be true. You were not just a victim who gets to bear her scar for the rest of the world to see. Your story would not end like that.
“No Sofie, you don’t get it, when I say that I am broken I am really not looking for sympathy,” her back straightens at your serious expression. “I just mean that I am giving up on relationships, all kinds of relationships with men, for now.”
“So no more dating?” You shake your head to confirm. “No more hookups?”
“When I say no more. I mean it,” you say with an icy tone.
“I don’t think that is such a bad idea,” Sofie begins. “I think you may just need to take some time before you go out again, learn about yourself, love yourself. Y’know all that shit that Teen Vogue used to tell us.”
You laugh at this, your roommate was a sweet girl, older than you but innocent enough. You envied her star glazed eyes when she talked about love and romance. Her heart was so pure and untainted, you hoped that she would never change, you prayed that she would never know.
“I think you may be right Sof.”
“Right about what?”
In the most perfect of moments Sofie’s boyfriend, Jake, comes down the stairs to join in on your impromptu counseling session. Jake and Sofie were long-time boyfriend and girlfriend since your guys’ days in college. They were each other’s first everything's, love, relationship, they had even lost their virginities to one another. The first day the two of them had met during your study session you could see it happen, the sparks. And throughout the years you were able to watch their love bloom and unfold.
“Oh you know the usual, my life is fucked,” you joke responding to Jake’s question.
“What fucking men with no feelings is finally getting old?” Jake says.
“Ouch, you don’t have to be so harsh,” you respond back to him in which he just shrugs you off.
Sometimes you wondered how a person as blunt as Jake managed to win over the tender-hearted Sofie. Jake reaches above Sofie’s head to grab his own mug for coffee while pressing a kiss to her forehead causing her face to flush with joy. Some couples just couldn’t be scrutinized, Jake and Sofie just worked.
“Hey, you’re still gonna come with us to Dominic’s New Year’s party on Friday, right?” Sofie asks you.
“That depends, will Dom stay far away from me for the entirety of the night?” you respond back.
“Oh come on, he’s really not all that bad!” Sofie says making your eyebrows go up in disbelief. “And if I recall correctly you hooked up with him a couple of months ago so you obviously don’t hate him that much.”
“First off, I was drunk,” you begin to feel yourself getting worked up. “Secondly, my heart was just broken, if you haven’t forgotten, so let’s just say my judgment was a little fucked.”
Sofie takes a long sip of her coffee and avoids eye-contact. You turn your body from her and breathe deeply from your nose in order to regain your composure.
“Okay, ladies let’s take it down a notch,” Jake effectively breaks the tension. “Y/N, I would love it if you came to celebrate with all of us. And I promise I will be keeping Dom busy so you don’t have to worry about him.”
“Fine, I’ve never been one to say no to free drinks anyways,” Sofie perks up at your response and excitedly hugs you causing you to smile.
Your workweek drags on leaving you anxious to get absolutely trashed at the upcoming party. You’ve had enough corporate bullshit to make certain that when Friday came no one would even be able to recognize that you played as a stock manager by day. One last sweep of your ruby red lipstick against your lips and your look is complete. Despite the bitter winter air you opted to show skin tonight in your tight black body-con dress. You knew that this look would attract lots of attention, but you didn’t care. You would relish in the way men would stare at you, and then doing something you have become unfamiliar with, you would deny each and every one of them.
You, Jake, and Sofie all share the same Uber from your apartment to Dominic’s swanky new penthouse. The four of you had all met in college, each of you finding different paths in life yet always keeping in touch. Back then Dominic was a promising young student swiftly on his way to becoming an engineer. Until suddenly he decided to leave school and follow his true passion for cuisine. Now he was one of the most successful restaurant moguls in the city.
His hard work truly paid off, you thought to yourself as the three of you entered his pristine penthouse suite already packed with people ready to celebrate the new year. The ceilings were high and the interior design was entirely bachelor-esque, true to his lavish lifestyle. Waiters attended to people throughout the room holding silver platters of champagne and the occasional finger-food. The scent in the air was lofty with alcohol and the various types of cologne worn by desperate men looking for a lay.
“You guys made it!”
Speak of the devil. Dominic makes his way through the crowd to greet his old friends. The four of you exchange hugs and hello’s but you were more than ready to end the interaction with him as quickly as possible. You look around the room until your eyes land on the small minibar across the living room.
“I need to be drunk,” you yell in Sofie’s ear causing her to giggle and excusing the two of you to the bar being worked by a dashing young bartender. It was a bit of a challenge to remember why exactly you weren’t going to be hooking up with anyone tonight. Until the young Colgate smirk shot you a knowing look. It all came rushing back, you fucking hated men.
Quickly you order a shot for both you and Sofie which she reluctantly agrees to, what a great friend, you think. The burn of tequila crawls its way to your stomach lighting a pleasant fire. You settle on champagne to sip on the rest of the night after taking the beverage from the bartender to promptly end his suffocating stare on you.
“I’m gonna go find Jake, are you okay here?” Sofie asks you.
“Yes of course I’ll be fine as long as the bartender can keep it in his pants.”
Sofie laughs and hits your arm for speaking so loudly, but you truly didn’t care. You begin to move away from the bar towards the floor-to-ceiling windows exposing the city life below. Upon approaching you can’t help but ogle at the beautiful scenery. The life of the city could be seen even from fifty floors up. The hustle and bustle of people eager to celebrate the new year had mesmerized you along with the mass of skyscrapers glittering against the deep purple horizon.
Once you and Sofie had left to find the bar, Jake and Dominic were across the room talking of old times while Dominic showcased his new apartment. Jake could tell that Dominic was proud in the development of his empire, it was obvious in the way he had to mention price tags on every item in his home. Just when Dominic was about to go on and on about a particular piece of art a man whom Jake had not met before interrupts their conversation by placing a hand on Dominic’s shoulder.
“Jaebeom you made it!” Dominic says to the man while pulling him in for a hug. Dominic, as anyone could tell, had a bit too much to drink tonight, hence the sudden affection.
Jaebeom didn’t seem to mind Dominic, perhaps already familiar with this behavior, he pulls back from the brief embrace and gives Dominic a tight smile. Jaebeom had dark hair that was tucked neatly behind each ear. His ears were littered with silver jewelry while his nose also adorned a single stud. His eyes were set deep giving him a mysterious aura.
“Jaebeom this is my good buddy from college Jake,” Dominic introduces the two while both the men shake their hands in a greeting. “Jaebeom is a photographer, he did all the shots for my new restaurant.”
“No kidding, that’s really awesome man,” Jake says trying to make conversation with the stranger.
“Thanks for saying so, I really appreciate it,” Jaebeom says.
A silence fills the space before Dominic asks, “So did Claire come with you tonight?”
Claire, from what Jake had heard, was Dominic’s newest conquest. She was a hostess at one of Dominic’s restaurants and apparently good friends with Jaebeom. Jake found it odd that Dominic could not work up the courage himself to ask out a girl instead of having someone he hired to be his wingman.
“Unfortunately she wasn’t able to swing her shift,” Jaebeom tells Dominic to which he shrugs in an attempt to seem unaffected. Jaebeom then suddenly turns to Jake.
“I’m sorry if this comes off as too forward, but I couldn’t help but notice the girl you came in with earlier.”
Jake laughs, this wouldn’t be the first time that he had to break it to some poor bastard that Sofie was his girlfriend. She was absolutely gorgeous and he knows that his girlfriend Sofie does garner lots of attention. Not that he feels jealous, he just hates having to break it to these dudes that they stand no chance.
“That would be my girlfriend actually,” Jake says.
“Both of them?” Jaebeom raises his eyebrow quizzically causing Jake to facepalm at the way he is handling this interaction.
“Oh no sorry,” Jake searches the room to see Sofie and you leaning against the bar on the other side of the room. “My girlfriend is the one in the white dress over there by the bar.”
Jake points out the two of you and watches Jaebeom’s eyes follow.
“Oh I see, I was actually going to ask you about her friend.”
Jake sputters the champagne he is sipping feeling caught off guard at the question. If Jake remembers correctly you had completely sworn off men not too long ago. Then again, Jaebeom does look like a nice guy and seems genuinely interested in you. As your friend, Jake feels at a standstill with what to do. Although Jake was harsh in words when it came to you, he always had a soft spot for you. And he knows when you put your mind to something, you do not tolerate when people disregard you. But before Jake can say anything, Dominic beats him to the punch.
“Are you kidding? Y/N is practically fucking anyone that even looks her way these days.”
Now Jake remembers just why Dominic and you never got along. He was a complete asshole to you.
“Hey dude come on, don’t say that shit about her,” Jake comes to your defense.
Dominic raises his hands in surrender while wearing that typical shit-eating grin, “I just call it as I see it.”
Jake begins to become increasingly frustrated with the way that his best friend was being talked about, but he is even more afraid of your image being potentially slandered in front of a total stranger. And perhaps a potential match.
“You know better than anyone that she is going through a lot right now. Besides just the other day she said she had absolutely no interest in dating anymore,” Jake internally cringes at himself for potentially scaring Jaebeom away with that last point, but he really couldn’t let Dominic continue to trash you.
“Oh, Jesus don’t give me that. Ever since she got dumped she has been acting like a complete who-”
“Alright I think that’s enough,” surprisingly Jaebeom beats Jake in coming to your defense by putting an end to Dominic’s drunken rant.
While listening to Dominic trash you and Jake attempting to defend you, Jaebeom was continually getting more and more upset. It was bad enough that Dominic has just shown himself to be a terrible friend, but now he was going to stoop as low as calling his friend such a derogatory term?
He thought again about the girl that caught his attention. His eyes were on you the moment you walked through the door. Even with the masses of people in the penthouse, he felt like he was on another world with you, floating distantly away in a turquoise sea. To your beautiful skin, gorgeous locks of hair, and even just the way you carried yourself. Jaebeom had found himself completely enraptured with this complete stranger. And he was not going to let one of your supposed “friends” go on ruining your image.
“It’s not very cool to talk about someone like that when they’re not here to defend themselves. Especially to someone whom they have never even met,” Jaebeom told Dominic with a stern tone.
If Jake was impressed before by this man, his respect for Jaebeom increased even more. If only you were willing to put yourself out there again, he thinks Jaebeom might be a really good change for you. He clearly was a person who stood for what they believed in, and Jake knows how much a person like that could have such a great impact on you.
“Now if you’ll excuse me,” Jake waves to Jaebeom too stunned to even say anything as he walks off.
“What the hell is his problem?” Dominic starts as Jaebeom leaves, “Does he think that Y/N will blow him with that bullshit Mr. Nice Guy act?”
“You are such a prick, you know that?” Dominic just shrugs off Jake taking a large gulp of his beer.
While roaming throughout the penthouse you would stop occasionally to scope out the room around you. The people, the music, even the drinks were just so mind numbingly dull to you. You thought to yourself either you were truly broken like you thought so earlier that week or you were perhaps just a narcissist. Neither of those options made you feel particularly good about yourself, but if you weren’t going to be the one to say it, who would?
“Are you enjoying yourself so far?”
Over the loud bass of the music somehow you were able to hear the question coming from the man who had just approached you. You turn towards him slightly startled. Only once you turned to the voice you felt your breath leave your lungs. He was handsome, no beyond that, you had seen handsome men before, fucked handsome men, he was something else. There was no word in the English language to describe his looks.
His cheeks were set high on his face along with his straight nose. The dark locks of hair that framed his face rested softly on his moonlit skin. The way he held your eyes with his stare had you almost in a panic until you remembered, you had lost all your patience for men.
Still, there was no harm in just conversing, your drunken state thought.
“I’m going to have to say no to that one,” you reply back honestly while setting your empty champagne glass on a waiter’s tray. Had it not been for the few drinks you had already you would not have even spared this man a second glance, right?
“Can’t say I blame you,” the man says. “I am Jaebeom by the way.”
He flashes you a tender smile with his perfectly straightened teeth, you quickly tell him your own name hoping to God this conversation could die. Your resolve while standing next to Jaebeom was slowly dwindling. You need to leave his side. Continuing this conversation leads to dangerous territory that not you nor your heart was ready for.
“I’m sorry, will you excuse me? I need to find my friends, I haven’t seen them all night,” you inwardly cringe at your lame excuse. Yet Jaebeom seems completely unaffected, holding his arm out to his side to allow your departure. A man that doesn’t get angry when you deprive him of attention, that was new.
Somewhere amongst the sea of people Sofie appears at Jake’s side effectively easing the growing anger Jake felt towards Dominic’s drunken antics.
“What were you two boys talking about,” Sofie says sweetly while looping her arm around Jake. Jake knows that if Sofie were to hear the things Dominic had been saying about her best friend, she would have an absolute fit. So he thought it best she didn’t know.
“Oh you know just guy talk,” Jake says smiling.
“My photographer has the hots for Y/N,” Dominic slurs while it takes everything in Jake not to strangle his friend.
“Your photographer? Who is that? I want to see what he looks like,” Sofie replies sounding interested, to which Dominic scans the room before landing his finger on Jaebeom talking with some other guests.
“What really? He is so perfect I have to go tell her,” Sofie tries to walk away until Jake pulls her back.
“Okay first of all, ouch, I am your boyfriend. How can you say a guy is perfect while I’m right here?” Sofie rolls her eyes but let’s Jake continue. “Secondly, wasn’t it just a couple days ago that she mentioned never wanting to date again?”
“Oh come on you know she doesn’t mean that, and besides that guy is so her type. The second she sees him she will forget her hatred of men altogether,” Sofie says.
Jake sighs but lets Sofie go over and tell you about your secret admirer. He didn't appreciate the way people took your words so lightly. Was he the only one listening to you for the past couple months to know that you needed time to heal? Then again Sofie was your closest friend and perhaps she knew what was best for you.
“Okay you are never going to believe this,” Sofie approaches you from behind as you finish off your third glass of champagne.
“Tell me quickly I can feel the alcohol beginning to fog my brain.”
“Literally the hottest guy here asked Jake and Dom about you, they say he is interested in you!”
Through your slightly buzzed state you can still feel the burst of annoyance come over you. You have to breathe deeply through your nose in order to not completely go off on your sweet enthusiastic friend. Did your words a couple days ago mean nothing to her?
“Sofie, like I told you, I am not at all interested,” you tell her causing her excitement to dwindle. “So you can pass along that message to this mystery man too.”
“Oh come on! At least let me show you who it is, you will just die,” Sofie says causing your eyes to roll.
You decide to play along, “Fine show me.”
Sofie excitedly turns both your bodies to the crowd of people, she scans for a minute until she finds the said man, excitedly pointing him out to you. Jaebeom was in the middle of a conversation. The man who was interested in you was him? The guy you completely blew off just moments ago?
You could feel yourself start to become overwhelmed. First when you started to talk to Jaebeom you began to have these feelings that you had never felt before. The fact that you couldn’t identify them frustrated you and made you want to leave this party. Now come to find out the whole reason he approached you was because he was interested? For reasons unexplained you began to feel the anger turn in your stomach again.
Who did this guy think he was? Was he just someone who felt he was so charming that just a simple greeting would have you spreading your legs for him? You felt so angry with yourself for even faltering for a moment on the resolution you made with yourself. This just proved your theory that all men want the same things from you. How could you be so stupid to think differently? Your head was turning into a swirl of red, clouding your judgement, perhaps the cheap booze was stronger than you anticipated.
It wasn’t until Jaebeom turned his body towards you, locking his eyes on yours. You expected to see the smirk, the smirk that all the men wear on their faces when they just want their dick wet. Instead, he smiled. Not a forced smile, it was genuine, you could feel the warmth of it from across the room. His smile had you faltering. You’ve been with so many men these past few months that you thought you had them all figured out. So why was he so unpredictable?
For this, the rage overcame you.
With all your might you are able to look away from him and down at the floor. Your chest felt tight, all the air around you had been sucked away as you struggled to get a grip on where you were. Breathing exercises were not going to help you at this point.
“Hey, are you okay?” Sofie looks down at your shaken figure.
“No, I’m not, I think I’m going to leave. I really don’t feel well,” you say as you begin to make your way through people not wanting to let anyone submit to your anger.
Sofie grabs your arm, “It’s almost midnight you can’t leave now!”
“Sofie please, I am being very serious right now. Let me go,” your tone is icy as Sofie draws her hand back in fear.
Taking the opportunity you start your journey towards the exit needing so desperately to get out of the sea of people. Your chest began to heave as you felt the world closing in on you. Tears prodded in your eyes as you clenched your fists. The crowd was suffocating, you felt like you were about to burst, until finally you made your way to the door. You hurried down the hallway to the elevator practically throwing a punch at the call button.
Jaebeom was across the room when he had seen the entire exchange. He noticed your change in expression and then proceeded to watch you suddenly turn to leave the party. Jaebeom had a hard time understanding why, but he felt worried for you. Suddenly he begins to weave in and out of the drunken mass as the countdown from ten begins to be shouted out. He sees only a glimpse of you as you finally slip your way out the front door.
He reaches the door, opening it to find there is no one in the hall, he looks down and sees the elevator doors slowly closing with you inside. He tries to make a run for it, what will he even say when he reaches you? He doesn’t care at this moment, all Jaebeom knows is that he doesn't want you to be alone.
Running fast towards the titanium doors you look up and catch his eye. Tears can be seen falling down your flushed cheeks. Your eyes were wild and bright as you stared through Jaebeom, making his steps come to a halt. He was shaken by the look in your eyes, so much so that he lets the elevator doors stop him from reaching you.
FOUR, THREE, TWO, ONE, HAPPY NEW YEAR!
He hears the party happening behind him. The cheering and laughing as people celebrate with their friends and loved ones. Yet the noise is completely drawn out as Jaebeom thinks of you.
This girl he had only just met, yet he longed for so desperately so.
#got7 fanfic#jaebeom fanfic#got7 smut#jaebeom smut#Im Jaebeom#got7 scenarios#got7 imagines#fanfic#got7#jb smut#got7 jb#jb fanfic
127 notes
·
View notes
Text
the visit - hwang hyunjin
⇢ prompt “And do what? Watch another horror so you can cry?” ⇢ pairing hyunjin x female reader ⇢ word count 1.8k ⇢ genre fluff & little smut but not really ⇢ warnings swearing, make out sesh & a little grinding action ⇢ summary “hwang hyunjin x female reader. Genre is up to you, please (fluff/smut) ~ Theme - Hyunjin and his s/o are watching a horror movie. And s/o laughs a lot, being rational and isn't scared at all. While Hyunjin is ehh a scared drama queen? haha”—request ; friends to lovers!au
You’re beginning to think inviting Hyunjin to your dorm to watch The Visit with you wasn’t the best idea.
It’s not like you had many other choices. With your roommate having gone home for the weekend and Hyunjin’s dorm only a few doors down, it was your best option. And on the typical occasion, you wouldn’t be complaining; usually, you are more than happy to spend time with one of your newer friends who not only makes you smile so hard it hurts, but also happens to be ridiculously handsome. You know. As a plus.
You should have guessed that Hyunjin isn’t a horror kind of person. Seriously— he’s a pretty rose-colored glasses, happy-go-lucky guy. So why he agreed to watch one such movie with you in the first place is beyond your level of judging expertise.
You’re trying to not get ahead of yourself.
Hyunjin lets out an audible gasp when it is revealed who the ‘grandparents’ truly are. You can’t help but pause the movie, trying to stifle a laugh. “Are you for real?” You ask, turning to look at him. “You didn’t realize who they were?” Somewhere in the back of your head, you take note of how unfairly cute he looks right now, lying on his stomach beside you with his face smooshed into one of your pillows.
“Um, no?” He scoffs like it’s the most reasonable thing ever, sending you an unamused glare.
“You’re dense.”
You start to feel bad as the movie draws closer to its end. To you, the movie is stupid; totally predictable and you can’t stop laughing. Hyunjin, on the other hand, is not having as fun of a time. Clearly frightened—or, maybe just overwhelmed—by the sudden and rather aggressive turn of events, he finds it much more disturbing and you begin to find yourself focusing more on the way he keeps flinching rather than the movie.
“Okay,” you finally quip, slapping your laptop closed, “I think that’s enough.”
“What?” Hyunjin hollers, leaning up on his elbows. “What are you doing?”
“You’re clearly freaked out, Hyunjin. You should have just told me you didn’t like horror movies and stayed in your dorm,” grumbling, you miss the hurt that flashes across his face when you reach back to retrieve your phone.
“Then I wouldn’t get to see you,” he admits, keeping his gaze glued on you as you come back down next to him. You momentarily forget how to breathe, heat making its way up your neck to settle on your cheeks. He can’t help but smile to himself at the reaction.
“Well,” you cough, “we could have watched something else.”
“No matter how disturbing it is,” Hyunjin hums, reopening your laptop, “I have to see how it ends.”
Reluctant, you look to him with a frown and momentarily wonder if he’s trying to prove something. You certainly hope not. Before you can even make sure he really wants to continue, Hyunjin offers the softest of smiles for reassurance and you can’t help but send one back. He simply has that effect. With one last sigh, you quickly type in your password and reposition yourself; this time, a little closer to him. “Fine,” you sigh, continuing the movie, “but if you cry or something, I’m going to laugh.”
He doesn’t cry. In fact, he’s stiff as a board, face devoid of emotion as he keeps his eyes glued to the screen. It isn’t until you shift to rest your head on his arm does the smallest of smiles appear on his lips. And before you know it, the movie is ending and you realize you have spent the last twenty minutes or so transfixed on Hyunjin rather than the film’s conclusion. Oh well.
“That was interesting,” you offer. You’re not sure what to think at the moment. A part of you likes to believe one too many lines were crossed this evening for friends who only met at the beginning of this semester, but the more reasonable side is convinced Hyunjin would never see you as anything more than that. Friends.
“I think you’re a liar,” Hyunjin quips unexpectantly, brows furrowed when you whip back to face him. “I think you’re scared, but you just play it off and laugh ‘cause you don’t want to blow the little façade you got going.”
You scoff, leaning back on an elbow to regard him. “I’ve seen some scary movies, Hyunjin, but this definitely wasn’t one of them. Get the hell out of here.”
“But I wanted to stay,” he whines with a pout of his lips. Fuck, if you were knee-deep in shit before, you might as well be drowning now. “And do what? Watch another horror so you can cry?” You challenge like always, blowing off what could be flirting because it just seems too outrageous to you. “No,” Hyunjin frowns, suddenly serious and it turns your blood to ice.
“What, then?” You laugh airily, looking away for the sake of your own sanity and watching the movie’s credits intently. The silence is deafening, dragging on for so long you begin to fear that he can hear how heavily your heart is beating. Finally, you muster up the courage to look back at Hyunjin who, to your surprise, seems to have been regarding you quietly the entire time. “What?”
“Can I kiss you?” Hyunjin asks in a rush.
“What?” You blurt, nearly choking on the air you heave and staring back at him with wide eyes. “Why would you want to do that?”
Hyunjin rolls his eyes, deserting his pillow in favor of sitting up to lean against the wall. “Do you want the confession version or the dirty version?” He asks like it means nothing at all, the corners of his eyes scrunched in amusement. You nearly choke—again.
“Dirty?” You repeat, bewildered. At this point, you must have died and gone to heaven to hear Hwang Hyunjin even utter such words. You scramble to sit up, keeping a safe distance from the boy talking absolute buffoonery at you.
“My friends were talking about you,” he starts, and instantly the alarms begin ringing in your brain. Hyunjin is one thing, but his friends? They’re an entirely new level of terrifying, and the fact that he’s using plural friends has your heart racing. “No, no, no. I actually don’t wanna know,” you interrupt, waving your hands for him to stop and opting to look at the now dark screen of your laptop.
Hyunjin ignores you. “They’ve been talking about your ass for weeks now after you wore this one pair of jeans, and it’s driving me absolutely nuts because, yeah, your ass is great, but it also made me realize how possessive I feel about you. I don’t think I can handle another day listening to them wonder ‘what that mouth do,’ because now I can’t help but wonder, and it’s fucking me up because I really like you and I love spending time with you but then you’ll do some nonchalant shit like… just the way you leaned back. It makes my head spin. And I hate knowing anyone else is thinking of you the way I do. But like, if you don’t feel the same way and don’t want to kiss me, I get it. We’re probably just a bunch of horny teenage boys to you, and I don’t know why you would want me of all—”
“Jesus Christ, shut up,” you groan, hastily waddling on your knees until you’re close enough to swing a leg over his lap and cup his face in your hands. For a moment, you hesitate—pausing to look him in the eyes and wondering whether you should offer some sort of confession in return. Later, you decide. Because right now, whether it’s from the words that just left his mouth or simply how delectable he looks up close, giving Hyunjin a damn kiss is your best option.
It’s nothing more than a peck—once, twice, three times, on the fourth, however, Hyunjin finally seems to come to his senses. With one hand sliding up your back to press you closer and the other coming to cradle your jaw and angle it to his liking, three simple pecks quickly evolve into much more. And for the time being, you’re entirely lost in the plushness of his lips and the taste of his tongue and the fire his touch leaves behind as he reaches for everything but nothing all at once.
“Hyunjin,” you squeak out without even meaning to. You hadn’t even meant to stop kissing him, but here you are, fingers twisting in his shirt and body throbbing with a need you did not think you would feel tonight. “Yes?” He hums, making his way down your neck with the way you tilt back for him, littering your skin with pillowy kisses in between the small bruises he sucks along the way.
“Shit, I don’t know,” you manage breathlessly, subconsciously trying to wrap your legs around his hips so that the slow roll of your core against him does more to satisfy your growing desire. “You have a problem down there?” Hyunjin whispers, noticing the determined movement and dropping a hand buried in your hair to grip at your thigh, thumb tapping at your clothed center, just a few centimeters below your most sensitive nerves. Still, it has electricity coursing through your veins and you nod hastily, lifting your hips to try and position yourself so his thumb presses into your clit.
Realizing what you are trying to do, Hyunjin clicks his tongue and moves his hand further away, stifling a laugh when you whimper. “Jesus, ___, what happened to you? I didn’t expect you to be so needy,” the fucker giggles, lifting you by the hips to guide you into spinning around and sitting between his legs, back now pressed to his chest.
“I didn’t expect Hwang Hyunjin of all people to tell me he’s possessive of me,” you retort despite how lightheaded you feel with the way his hands roam, one hand dipping under your sweatshirt to slide over the warm skin of your stomach and give your breast a squeeze; the other trailing over the waistband of your shorts.
“It’s true,” Hyunjin sighs dreamily, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. Instinctively, you drop your head against his shoulder and tilt to kiss the curve of his neck, unable to fight your smile. “Before we do anything though, ___, I have to know,” he clears his throat, fingers finally slipping beneath the fabric of your shorts and underwear, “is this going to be a one-time thing?”
This question in itself is enough to sober you from the desire clouding your mind. Leaning up just enough so you can twist around and look him in the eyes, you offer Hyunjin a reassuring smile before anything else.
“No,” you answer, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, “we still have so many horror movies to watch together.”
#kwritersworldnet#thekpopnetwork#hwang hyunjin#hyunjin#stray kids#hwang hyunjin smut#hyunjin smut#stray kids smut#hwang hyunjin fluff#hyunjin fluff#stray kids fluff#hwang hyunjin x reader#hyunjin x reader#stray kids x reader#hwang hyunjin scenarios#hyunjin scenarios#stray kids scenarios#hwang hyunjin au#hyunjin au#stray kids au
444 notes
·
View notes
Note
Since you like the Hellboy...*perks up* Can I ask what you like about it? Does this need to be part of the ask game, if so, smash it in there. But opinions! I would love!
Ooh! Hm. This is actually surprisingly hard to articulate.
I’ve been ‘into’ Hellboy for like. Half my damn life now, and while I could have gone on at length about all the things about it I found fun as a teenager it was at its core very much a ‘this makes me Feel Happy’ thing. And now that glow is less intense but it’s bolstered by that habitual sort of attachment you feel to like. Family members.
Let’s see how far I can break this down lol.
I have never been able to much like most of the BPRD tie-in type materials and I was not at all pleased with the films, so to an extent I think I can say confidently part of what I like is the way Hellboy is situated in a superhero-comic-adjacent space while being very much coordinated by one overarching creative sensibility--like, other people were brought in to work on Hellboy a lot over the course of the run, but Mignola always had a unifying voice and even when I don’t actually agree with his taste or values that level of artistic...intentionality? Judgment? Presence? Something like that. Gives the work a sense of...integrity? Maybe just unity.
Anyway makes it feel less plastic than comics often do. This is a corporate product of course but it’s also just Mike Mignola hanging out doing whatever he thinks would be cool. Drawing rocks and monsters because that’s what he wants to draw. I like that.
Some of the higher-quality webcomics you get nowadays, when they don’t take themselves too terribly seriously but aren’t outright comedic, can land similarly in terms of voice, but even just fifteen years ago webcomics weren’t really at that point yet as a medium, and even now most are still amateurish as well as amateur. Which is fine, but different.
To get slightly less meta, I love the collection of genres that are smeared together for Hellboy--we’ve got a lot of detective noir stuff cut together with cosmic horror and like...the genre where people research folklore and then mostly punch it. Does that have a name? And then there are a bunch of other influences stirred in, sometimes for only a single issue, sometimes more.
Mignola managed to be significantly less offensive than average about the way he adapted world folklore into his weird groddy kitchen-sink fantasy system, which is pretty funny because he doesn’t come across as being careful about it at all. Not that I think there was no effort made, but also he just used research as a basis for narrative much more often than he started with a story premise and stretched the creature to fit, which by default gave him less scope for dickery.
Also I think the only god he ever fights is Hecate and she’s handled from a 19th-century-occultist angle rather than a Classical angle.
Also Hellboy fights Nazis and cyborg gorillas as well as like. Baba Yaga and vampires. The balance of schlock and gonzo nonsense to pathos and sensitive emotional bits is usually about where I like it.
The episodic format is really well used. It lets the storytelling style lean heavily on the late-19th-through-mid-20th-century short story genres that it borrows a lot from, and which honestly has always worked better for comics than end-to-end long-arc serialization. I like how the anachronic order of many sections of the series allowed for a lot of ‘building outward from the middle.’
Also it means the story can stay true to its roots and kill off a lot of characters in gothic excess without constantly sloughing main cast or having to do fakeouts.
...I can’t believe that since Hellboy isn’t really emotionally involved with the issue of his birth parents except inasmuch as it explains the world-ending stone hand, the single angstiest part of his backstory is technically when he went on a drinking binge road trip around Mexico in his teens and made friends with vampire-fighting luchador triplets but then the youngest one whom he was closest to was kidnapped by the vampires and Hellboy had to kill his best friend, and this is all established in a random side story that pushes the intentional genre absurdism to its breaking point and is equal parts comedic and grotesque.
(The second angstiest is probably the bit in volume 1 when he finds his dad murdered by frogs.)
I also just love characters who wear trench coats and are actually really clever and knowledgeable and kind but tend to resort, in extremity, to just hitting problems really hard. Okay? I like that. That’s a fave.
Hellboy’s whole character design is very strong, a bunch of dramatic broad-strokes decisions that contrast interestingly against one another, and then a lot of subtler elements layered in crosswise.
The way his relationship to the narrative ‘occult-fighting antichrist figure’ could be really straightforward, but keeps stepping a little sideways off the usual shape of the tropes in a way that creates depth.
He’s a giant red demon guy who stopped aging in the 50s; he’s never going to be able to be ‘normal’ or pretend he isn’t what he is--but also he’s a dude with a government job and probably a Social Security Number who goes and interviews people about the situation and says ‘I’m Agent Hellboy’ and gets called ‘Mr. Boy’ and is just this guy who knows his shit and can take a beating.
(This was one of the major things I hated in the first movie, that they decided to make him this weird secret cryptid whose dad keeps him locked in a vault when he’s not fighting.)
The way the identity thing is never reduced to comfortable binaries with him except by enemies trying to psych him out is just really satisfying. He fights monsters not because he hates them or himself but because he was recruited into this career young and he’s really good at it, and he feels good about helping people who are being victimized.
When something occult isn’t hurting anybody he’s down to chill, and if it turns out they secretly are after all he’s always so tired and disappointed, and if they really aren’t then he has a new friend. Whom he may never see again or may hit up for a game of cards next time he’s in town.
(I also like how he combines ‘being pretty private’ ‘being very casually friendly’ and ‘being an asshole who makes a lot of enemies’; it’s not that unusual a combo for his type of main character but it’s one I enjoy.)
When he breaks off his own horns as part of his rejection of being Anung Un Rama it’s not ‘choosing humanity’ or w/e it’s choosing not to be used for this. His name is Hellboy, which is an objectively awful name but it was given to him by people he loved and who chose him, not the people who made him or brought him to this world to be used, and he chooses it.
And that has weight. That has force enough behind it to carry a world.
Just in general in spite of all the identity stuff he gets swamped with he’s really good at self-knowledge and letting other people’s ideas of who and what he’s supposed to be just wash over him. As the story goes on and shit gets weirder his sense of identity gets shaken, but he never quite loses that anchor in the knowledge that he is the ultimate arbiter of his own identity.
His exasperation on being told via stabbing that he doesn’t get to be King of England even if he is the first male descendant of King Arthur since Mordred is so funny. Why is this a thing, says Hellboy. Why am I finding out like this. Why do I always find out this shit like this. Why would anyone think I wanted to be King of England. I already punched so many skeletons about not wanting to be King of Witches.
He’s got so much righteous anger that comes out when people are treated as disposable, or as less for being not human or less human or superpowered, and of course it’s founded in his own experiences and his own fight for respect but it’s not about him. It’s about the person who’s suffering now.
One time his combat one-liner before shooting something started with ‘The Torch of Liberty said I was the worst shot he ever tried to train’ that’s so funny! I love that!
He’s my boy okay.
#have this rant lol#hellboy#my opinions#fandom recruitment pitch#i have all 12 volumes and a number of very disappointing tie-ins#i almost didn't get them all because i was collecting at a leisurely rate#and then all the bookstores stopped stocking it because it had wrapped up#and guess what???#volume 11 of 12 ain't easy to find used!#comics#writing#identity#names and naming#beastenraged#ask#hoc est meum
32 notes
·
View notes
Text
two hearts connected - kth (smut)
Pairing: Taehyung x female reader (side Hoseok x reader)
AU: music producer!reader, trainee!taehyung, hanahaki au
type of fic: oneshot
genre: nsfw, 18+, smut, angst
word count: 11.8k
Summary: You said it always made you feel loved and happy and adored and wanted. Then you turned around and said that it still wasn’t enough. He just wants to be enough for someone, and it has to be you.
or
in which, taehyung is a hopeful trainee, you’re a music producer, and hoseok works at a coffee shop.
Warnings: unprotec secc, angst angst angst, reader has Issues:tm:, ambiguous ending, misunderstood soulmates, spanking, choking, oral sex: both, finger sucking, fingering, dirty talk and degradation, verbal arguments, pining, very unhealthy relationships, blood, sex addiction, talking with therapists
for the FicsWithLuv Luv Library Project~
...
"Got plans tonight?"
You glance up at the man who posed the question, eyes wide from the sudden intrusion of your privacy. Taehyung leans against the door with arms crossed over his chest. A small smile plays at his lips, a slight quirk to his grin, and you know that you're supposed to smile in return but you simply can't bring yourself to. You push your chair back, rolling away from your desk to get a better look at Taehyung.
"I have a lot of work to catch up on," you say with a small sigh.
"That's never stopped us before." Taehyung has a point; in fact, it's never stopped the two of you from getting up to trouble in this very studio or in the dance studio down the hall.
"Sorry, Tae. It's really too much work tonight. There's apparently new plans about the concept of the group...and I'm supposed to work on a debut track for the group." Taehyung's head falls to the side, eyes narrowing at the news.
"A new concept? I thought they were happy with what was chosen?"
"Eh, change in management plans. There's always room for improvement according to the big bosses." You turn back to your computer, glancing over the mess of overlapping tracks and sounds on your screen. A second later, a pair of hands finds your shoulders and begins to rub small circles against the bit of exposed skin near your hoodie. Well - Taehyung's hoodie to be specific, but the details aren't important. The moment his fingers find the tight muscles near your neck, you all but melt under him.
"You're so tense, Y/N..." Taehyung mutters. It's with a surprising gentleness that he touches you, one you aren't used to in your usual encounters and it almost scares you. Still, you lean back into the touch, letting his hands run over your shoulders and massage out the kinks in your neck. Then your phone buzzes, rattling against the desk and shaking you both out of the odd silence that lingers. "Who is it?" You ignore the question as you pull your phone to your body, shielding the screen from Taehyung's sight.
Can I drop by the studio tonight? I have food!!
"Just Hoseok," you answer after a moment. You type out a hasty response before dropping your phone to your lap. Taehyung's hands retract immediately.
"Oh."
You spin in your chair, nearly knocking his chin with the back, and face him. Eyes blank and empty, he looks down at you. You reach out slowly, grip the collar of his shirt, and tug him down so that he's eye level with you.
"I changed my mind," you whisper. Eyes on his lips, you lean closer. Taehyung smirks down at you. The blank hurt on his features disappears as he meets you halfway, plush lips hitting yours with a significant amount of force. You melt under him and tug him closer by the collar. He moans into your mouth, a sound that sends heat straight to your core. "I want you to bend me over the keyboard, Tae."
Taehyung's hands find your hips at that, and he tugs you up. You help him out by wrapping your legs around his waist and latch onto him before he pulls you off the chair. Your phone falls to the ground, forgotten and unneeded.
"I want you against the wall first," he hisses against your mouth. He picks you up with ease, as though you don't weigh a thing, and he pushes you to the wall. You gasp at the force. Your head snaps back and hits the wall. Taehyung's lips leave yours and begin to travel down the edge of your jaw, mouthing at your skin. He nips under your jaw.
"Don't leave marks, Tae," you murmur, but the sensation of his teeth on your skin distracts you far too much. "Ta-Taehyung--" You're cut off by a particularly harsh nip. In the background, you hear the buzz of your phone. His hands are travelling down between your legs before you can think about what Hoseok might've responded with.
"You're not wearing any underwear? How dirty, Y/N." You keep hearing your phone go off - no doubt Hoseok is attempting to call you now - but Taehyung won't let up on his touches and kisses. Honestly, the sound of the phone is distracting you from the pleasure you would normally be feeling in this position. "I bet you were hoping I'd come fuck you, weren't you?"
"When are we going to stop this?" You ask between sighs. Taehyung doesn't provide an answer right away, lips lingering at the juncture of your neck for a moment. He pulls off after leaving you with a harsh suck to the skin there. Eyes find yours, and you can't quite read the emotion in them. He shrugs.
"Probably once I debut. Doesn't really matter, does it?"
You sigh.
"Yea, I guess it doesn't."
Of course it doesn't. Why would it? For Taehyung, you're just a toy he gets to play with whenever he wants.
He pauses, lips hesitating on your neck, and you feel him sigh against your skin. "Well that certainly killed the mood, didn't it?" He pulls away, and the two of you make eye contact a moment later.
"My phone is ringing," you say, tone monotonous and dull as you look at him. Taehyung wordlessly lets you drop to the ground. You move around him to retrieve your phone, no longer in the mood to talk or fuck for that matter. "Hello?" You cut the ringing off with your voice.
"Y/N! You didn't answer my text. Are you busy? I can head over anytime!" Hoseok's voice is bright and clear. You laugh at his enthusiasm, thinking of his precious eye smile, but the smile on your lips is quickly replaced by a sharp pain in your chest.
"Y-Yea, you can co-come over now. I'm not b-busy." The words are hard to get out, the pain keeps you from speaking without a stutter, and you're sure that Taehyung can see your struggle.
"Oh great! I'll be over soon, I just need to get on the bus real quick!" Hoseok hangs up after that, not offering anymore words, and you breathe a sigh of relief. Taehyung lingers at your side.
"Hanging out with him is better than fucking?" He asks. His breath is hot on your neck as he leans over you. Lips ghost your skin and press soft kisses to the exposed area. It doesn't stay soft long, quickly falling into nips and tugs at your neck, and you have to pull away from him before you fall back into the sweet addiction that is Kim Taehyung.
"You should go, Tae. Hoseok will be here any minute. I know the two of you don't really get along all too well." It's not meant to be backhanded or an attack; merely facts. The first time your best friend met your uh, fuck buddy, he was less than thrilled. Even more so after he found out that you work with Taehyung, which led into a long lecture about how he would never sleep with any of his coworkers because it's unprofessional and causes problems left and right. You had to remind Hoseok that he worked at a damn coffee shop and not some high class firm where it really would cause issues.
Taehyung pulls away, but not without giving a particularly hard suck to the juncture of your neck that brings a wanton moan out of you. Your hand flies to cover your lips. A wave of embarrassment washes over you even though Taehyung has heard that exact sound time and time again.
"Let's see how much you think of me while he's here then, princess." The palm of Taehyung's hand comes down against the curve of your ass, and you gasp at the contact. A burning sting blossoms across your skin. You have to bite your lip to keep the moan from slipping out. Taehyung surely knows what effect he has on you and the power he holds over you. "Maybe he'll know exactly what's on your mind the whole time." Taehyung slips away from you with that comment, turning on his heel, and you don't turn around to see him walk out the door. Instead you wait for the quiet click of the door opening and closing, then release the breath you've been holding since he spanked you. Your ass still stings from the contact, a reminder of his touch, and you know that's what he intended.
It takes quite a bit of effort on your part to sit down and get back to work, what with Taehyung on your mind. Part of you regrets telling Hoseok to come over because you know that otherwise, Taehyung would be buried inside you by now. You bring a hand to your neck. There's surely a mark there; Taehyung was a bit too rough even though you told him not to leave marks. The skin is sensitive to the touch. You know it's going to be there awhile, a constant reminder of Taehyung's presence in your life, no matter how much you don't like it. Hoseok will be disappointed. Hoseok won't be happy with me.
"It's always about Hoseok for you, isn't it?" Taehyung had asked you that question a long time ago, somewhat early on in your arrangement. He wasn't wrong, and his words definitely still ring true for you now.
Of course it's always about him. It's been that way for as long as you can remember. He's been your best friend for how long? 10 years?
That sharp pain returns to your chest. You slump further down in your chair, turning the volume on your computer up as though it will help drown out the pain.
It's always about him. Never about me.
...
"Are you listening? Y/N, I've been talking to you for the past five minutes but you stopped responding." Hoseok waves his hand in front of your face. You shake your head, pulling your attention off the window to your left and back to your best friend who sits across from you. An expression of concern paints his features.
"Yea, sorry. Was thinking about work for a second."
"Listen, Y/N, you come here to forget work, not think about it constantly. Besides, I'm on my break right now. I don't want either of us to be thinking about work now of all times." Hoseok purses his lips, and you frown at the pout.
"No yea, I'm sorry. Just... thinking too hard. Repeat what you said? I'll make sure to listen this time."
"Are you sure you're okay, Y/N?" The question catches you off guard.
"What?"
"Are you sure you're okay? Is work really that bad? What's going on? You've been like this for a few weeks now." You fidget in your seat. Hoseok has a point, but you don't really want to acknowledge it because everything is fine and you can't worry him. "Y/N?" He's onto you now, you've been quiet for too long, and he's bound to know that you're holding something back after 10 years of friendship. "Listen, I know you hate it when I bring him up, but does it have to do with Taeh—"
"It's nothing. Not him. Don't worry about it, Hobi. I promise I'm fine."
"You haven't been fine since the last time I came to visit you at the studio."
Yea, of course he would mention that night of all nights. Maybe it's mere coincidence that you haven't seen Taehyung since that night too, or maybe it's that not fucking him for three and a half weeks really is having that bad of an effect on you. It can't be that. Sure you're sexually frustrated and sex is the only stress relief that works for you, but it's not like you actually miss Taehyung. Your hand instinctively moves for your neck and hovers over the place where Taehyung left a mark weeks ago. Hoseok follows your movements with his eyes. He knows.
"How long has it been?"
"W-What?" You stutter through the simple question.
"How long since you last fucked?"
"Excuse me, that's quite an invasive question and I'm not sure I want to be telling you things like that, like I know we're best friends but come on Hoseok that's on another level of pri—"
"Answer the damn question. When did you last see him?"
You sigh. You know you're trapped, he's got you stuck with the question, and you can't avoid it any longer. Still, you really wish you could. Hoseok doesn't know that Taehyung was there minutes before he came to your studio; he saw the hickey and assumed that it had been from a previous visit without looking too hard at the mark.
"A few weeks."
"A few weeks? As in two or more?"
"Three and a half," you spit. You know Hoseok won't quit asking until he gets concrete details, so you're going to just save yourself the trouble and get straight to the point. "The night you came to visit me in the studio. Happy?" Hoseok looks taken aback at your words and the venom behind them. A few strands of his chestnut brown hair fall across his forehead as he shakes his head. You expect shock — in fact, part of you wanted to see shock — and yet he just looks blank. Disappointed. Disappointed.
"Do you want me to be happy?" He asks after a moment. It hurts, seeing him so disappointed because of something you did and it hurts, knowing that your relationship with Taehyung is destroying the best relationship you have. Something else hurts, deep down, something you don't want to think about or confront or even acknowledge in the slightest.
"Of course I want you to be happy," you say under your breath. You know it's not a serious question, or one that Hoseok is expecting an answer from at all but you still answer honestly nonetheless.
"You know nothing about your arrangement with him makes me happy, Y/N. Yet you still continue to go through with it, so what am I supposed to say? Tell you no? I've already tried that time and time again. You never listen, so what's the point?" Hoseok shakes his head. He turns his face away from you, looking out the window of the cafe instead of at you, and you frown at his lack of emotion.
"I can stop it if that's what you really want..."
"You would never be able to. You're too dependent on using him when you're stressed. Don't make empty promises. I've already accepted the fact that he's the most important thing in your life - at least the sex is." Hoseok grips the coffee cup before him, knuckles white from the tight hold he has on it.
Pain blossoms in your chest.
He looks at the table. You look at his hands.
"You need help, Y/N. I can't do anything for you."
"I don't."
"Yes, you do."
"I'm fine." Hoseok's head snaps up. He looks you in the eye, the gleam in his eye so sharp and intense that it stops you in your tracks.
"I got the name of a therapist. She specializes in sex addiction. Just give her one call for me? Please?" You can't say no to him. You never could.
"Okay. If it makes you happy, then I'll do it."
"I just want you to be okay, Y/N. It's not about my happiness, it's about your well-being." He leans back, hand going for his pocket, and pulls out his phone. "I'll text you the number. Please just try to call or see her within the next few days. Before you see Taehyung next." You try to ignore the pointed glare Hoseok sends your way.
"Yea, I can manage that." You nod along with the words, but in the back of your mind, you're already thinking about the next phone call you're going to make to Taehyung. Your phone dings as Hoseok sends the message. You don't bother to check the screen, already knowing the contents of his message, and part of you doesn't want to face the reality of the message. Because there's not a problem. There never has been. There never will be. Fuck, you really need to see Taehyung again soon. Your hand twitches at the thought of calling him.
"Thank you, Y/N. I wish it hadn't come to this, but it is what it is."
You don't look at him. There's always been something so... yellow about Hoseok, something bright and shining and gleaming even in the dark. He's always been this light in the darkness for you. Your light. Yours. Except he's not. He's never been yours, and you know he never will be, especially with this damn relationship you have with Taehyung. Everything is yellow with Hoseok. Makes you feel warm, safe, at home. But right now? Everything feels so very cold instead. Your chest hurts again. Hoseok keeps looking at you with those piercing eyes, and you've never felt more out of place in your life. Why does it hurt so much?
It's always about him. It has to be.
...
"F-Fuck, Tae. Fuck!" You arch your back off the bed as Taehyung's tongue curls inside of you, and a loud moan tears through your lips after another cuss hits the air. Taehyung laughs against your folds. The sound reverberates through you, and you can't stop your body from quivering from the impact. Taehyung braces you with his large hands, palms spread across your thighs and pressing them further apart to keep you from moving more.
"Sit still, princess. I have more work to do," he mutters as he pulls back, only to lean forward again and press a kiss to your clit that has you jolting. He sits up, caging his arms around your waist, then presses his lips to your ear. You can feel the wetness on his lips, the evidence of your arousal on him, the burning heat of shame filling your gut. "So pretty and needy, Y/N. Such a slut for me, yea? Do you want me to fill you up? Fill you with my cum? Fuck it into you over and over until my cum is dripping out of you?"
You moan as you dip your head, chin hitting the crook of his neck, and you bury your face against his skin to hit your embarrassment. Taehyung's hand slides down, fingers tracing your stomach before finding your core, then he presses two fingers into you. You gasp at the stretch. His fingers begin to scissor inside you, and you writhe under him, the grasp he has on you being the only thing to keep you grounded.
"Don't act so innocent, slut. We both know how needy and slutty you really are. My dirty little slut. Lets me fuck her and bend her over in her studio. Moans nice and loud for me. Takes my cock so well like a true slut." He pulls his fingers out of your slick heat only to bring them to your lips. "Suck, slut."
You whine but obey, taking his fingers between your lips and licking them clean for Taehyung. You taste yourself on him, a salty sweet taste that now coats the whole interior of your mouth. Taehyung fucks his fingers into your mouth. He chuckles as his fingers hit the back of your throat and you gag around him, a stray line of drool slipping out the corner of your mouth. He pulls his fingers out, wipes them across your cheeks, then slides his hand down to your throat.
"I'm gonna fuck you like the filthy whore you are," he growls against the shell of your ear. Squeezing your throat gently, Taehyung sits back and jerks his dick a few times. "I bet you're so wet that I won't need any lube. Fuck, I wanna fuck you raw, feel your tight little cunt clenching around me so nice."
"Please, fuck me, Ta-Taehyung, please please I need you to fuck me. Ruin me. God, just fuck me senseless please." Taehyung squeezes your neck harder at that, and you feel the breaths getting harder and harder to take.
"Shut up, slut. I didn't give you permission to talk, did I?" Instead of using your words, you shake your head furiously. "Good girl," Taehyung mutters. He guides his cock to your waiting heat and toys with your folds a few times, teasing and prodding your entrance with the head until you're squirming for more friction. "So disgustingly needy." With that, Taehyung pushes forward, bottoming out in one deep thrust that brings a loud whine through you. His hand falls away from your throat and finds the mattress beside your head instead. He gives you a moment to adjust to the stretch of his cock, chest heaving as he waits, and his stare never leaves your face.
It's the same routine you always go through: unabashed roughness turned into patience and waiting for you to get comfortable before fucking you with reckless abandon. It's the same old song and dance, the same routine and pattern, the thing you're used to and expect. Maybe it's showing on your face, because Taehyung doesn't move yet.
"Are you going to fuck me or not?" You ask, patience running thin all the sudden. "You're not here to question your whole existence. You're here to fuck the stress out of me, no?"
"I'll fuck you when you quit thinking about work and Hoseok, how about that?" Taehyung sneers in response.
"That's why you're supposed to fuck me, Tae," you counter, bringing a hand up to jab at his chest. Taehyung jerks back as you hit him even though you didn't hit him with much force. You wrap your arms around his neck and link your fingers to tug him down to you. Your lips smash together with a bruising force. "Now you're the one thinking too hard."
You lick at Taehyung's lips, begging entrance, and he allows it. Your tongue slips between his lips and intertwines with his. He tastes metallic somehow, a taste that's familiar yet you can't quite put your finger on it. He pushes back before you can keep thinking about it though. When he pulls back, his breath fans over your face and an unexpected scent coats your nose. His breath smells good, too good, inexplicably good, and you nearly comment on it. He doesn't give you a chance to, however, because he snaps his hips back against yours. The thrust sends your mind reeling and pushes any thoughts of the scent to the back of your mind. Taehyung's hands quickly shift from the bed to your hips and grip them tight. You're certain that he's going to leave bruises across your skin, but you honestly can't bring yourself to care all too much since his cock is curving against your sweet spot so well. Frankly, you can't even think straight to begin with.
"Fuck, Y/N, how are you still so tight? I've fucked you so many times, and your dirty cunt is still so tight for me." Taehyung slides back into you, and you clench around him, his cock straining against your velvet walls. Your mouth falls open, whines coming out without cease now, and you press your wrist against the opening of your mouth to block the noises. Taehyung doesn't allow it for long though. Still thrusting into you with a bruising pace, he yanks your arm away from your face. "I wanna hear you. Don't you dare cover your mouth." You nod, unable to get any coherent words out. Taehyung mutters a quiet praise and returns to fucking you with all his attention now on his thrusts, hand still pinning yours to the bed.
The angle at which he's fucking you is too good, and you can feel your pleasure beginning to peak. It's only a matter of time before you reach your high. Based on the stutters of Taehyung's hips as he thrusts into you, he's getting close as well.
"Can I cum in you?" He asks, even though he should know the answer by now.
"N-No, Tae — holy shit — you can't," you hiss out between broken moans. You bring your free hand down to your clit, rubbing small circles against the sensitive bud to help you reach your climax faster, and Taehyung groans at the sight. "F-Fuck fuck fuck Taehyung, fuck!" He gives one last harsh thrust before you orgasm. You're still riding out your high, hand working the same small circles against your clit, when Taehyung pulls out and grips the base of his cock. Warmth hits your hand and stomach. You look down to see the evidence of his orgasm painting your skin.
"I'll get a rag." Taehyung says nothing else and climbs off the bed to head for your bathroom. Chest heaving, you sigh and try to catch your breath as you stare at the ceiling. The disgust is quickly creeping in - the self loathing, the stress, the fucking disgust - and you nearly wipe the back of your hand on the bed to get his cum off of you. Taehyung is taking too long in the bathroom. It shouldn't take this long to get a washcloth. You don't have the strength to pull yourself off the bed though, so you keep laying there, head against the pillow with sweat making your neck feel sticky and hot. There are no sounds of the cabinets opening or the water running coming from the bathroom. You expect to hear the toilet flush at least, but after staring at the ceiling for what feels like ten minutes, you still hear nothing.
"What the hell are you doing in there, Kim Taehyung?" You mutter the question to yourself, not nearly loud enough for him to hear you. Finally, you decide enough is enough. Pulling yourself off the bed, you pad over to the bathroom with quiet steps. It's not a far walk but once you get closer, you can hear noises coming from the room at last. Coughs. Quiet coughs, as though Taehyung is trying to conceal the noise. Is he sick? He never mentioned feeling under the weather... and I didn't notice any symptoms of him being sick. The toilet flushes. It jolts you out of your thoughts. You feel out of place all the sudden, like you're intruding on some weird private time that Taehyung is having. The sink begins to run a moment later. You rush back to the bed, hurrying to climb back on and resume your previous position before Taehyung left.
"Sorry, I wanted to wash a bit of the sweat off," Taehyung announces as he steps back into the bedroom. You don't spare him a second glance. A wet washcloth hits your abdomen, and you wordlessly begin to wipe away the drying cum on your skin. Neither of you speak - a thing that's quite normal for the two of you in your post-sex hazes - but for you, it feels different this time.
Maybe it's the stress that's already started seeping back into your bones, maybe it's the sound of Taehyung's coughing in the bathroom that is still ringing in your ears, or maybe it's the bright crimson staining the washcloth in your hands that certainly wasn't there before. Maybe it's nothing at all. Something tells you that it's not that though. Something tells you that Taehyung's heaving chest isn't from the exhaustion of sex, that he really was trying to hide the coughing, and that the sickly sweet scent you smelled on his breath earlier was something far too familiar for your liking.
You want to hurl all the sudden. Empty the remains of dinner into the toilet and whatever the fuck else is in your stomach. You want it gone. That all too familiar pain in your chest is starting up again. Mind is drifting back to work. Back to Hoseok. Back to the yellow.
It's always about him. It has to be him.
...
"You said this started how long ago, Miss L/N?"
"I don't remember." The woman sitting across from you pauses, her pen hovering over the notepad on her desk, and she looks up to glare at you.
"I'm going to need you to try harder than that, Y/N. How long ago did your arrangement with Mr. Kim start?" She asks again. You don't offer an answer. She sighs. "I cannot help you if you aren't honest and open with me, Miss L/N. I need to know the extent of the issue so we can reach a proper diagnosis and as such find the best way to help you. Will you let me do that?"
"Yes, I will," you admit. You refuse to look at her still; instead, you focus your attention on the floor beneath your feet. The white sneakers look out of place against the brown wood.
"Then let's start again. How long ago did this begin?"
"Two years ago. December 31st. New Years party. My best friend introduced me to Taehyung." You don't particularly want to revisit the memory. The stare of the psychologist across from you is compelling in some way, however, and you find yourself letting the memory slip to the forefront of your mind. "Taehyung was a senior college student at the time. I had just graduated earlier in the year. Attraction at first sight I guess? An ex of mine was at the party, and I wanted to avoid him so I made a move on Taehyung to hide from him. My ex saw me, started trying making moves on me, then tried to buy me drinks. Taehyung suggested that we pretend to be a couple to get my ex to quit bothering me. Three drinks later, we were fucking at my place. Four days later I'm showing up to work and Taehyung is there, along with an announcement that he's a new trainee at the company. I'm not sure how things unfolded from there. I didn't intend for it to turn out like this. I didn't want it to."
"What did you want, Y/N?"
"Something else? Someone else? I'm not sure. I think I wanted a relationship, but at the same time I didn't." You pick at a stray thread on the hem of your shirt.
"Would you call what you have with Mr. Kim a relationship?" The woman asks. Her pen scrapes across the notepad on her desk, hand moving fast as she scribbles unknown words on the paper, and you watch the movement with little care. Yes. That's what it is, right? It's a relationship? It has to be. What else would it be?
"I don't know. It should be a relationship, shouldn't it?" It's a theoretical question, and you aren't expecting an answer or any sort of comment from the woman across from you. She proves you wrong with her next words.
"Given the consistently of the sex and how often you see each other, yes. It should be. Do you want it to be, Miss L/N? Relationships are what you make them, every kind of relationship from friendships to marriages. If you don't want it to be, then why do you continue to see him?"
"I need to get my mind off the stress of work somehow. Nothing else I've tried works. I've seen people about it, tried medications, meditation, everything. Sex takes the stress away for long enough."
"You don't want a relationship with him?" The woman continues to poke and prod at the question you're trying to avoid. "Don't dodge the question, Y/N."
"No. I don't. I don't want the commitment or feelings tied to a relationship. And I don't want that with Taehyung. I don't care about the dates or hand holding or anything like that. I don't want that with him." The therapist hesitates. Her pen lingers above the notepad, and she looks up at you. She brings her free hand to her face and pulls her glasses off to place them on the desk.
"Who do you want it with then?" You pause at the question. Your hesitance must be an answer in and of itself, because the therapist continues speaking. "It seems as though there is someone you want that kind of romantic relationship with. The one with hand holding and dates and things like that. What's keeping you from having that kind of relationship with the person you want it with?"
Your chest hurts. Head hurts. Heart hurts. Everything hurts. There's constriction in your throat, a burning sensation flooding your lungs, and you nearly choke on your breath. The back of your throat itches. You need to cough, but you can't let yourself do that. It's too much.
"I see..." The woman trails off, pen returning to that methodical scribbling. The sound of your heartbeat pounds in your ears. It drowns out everything else. "What do you want, Y/N?"
To not feel anymore. To get rid of it. For it to be gone. To love someone else for fuck's sake. Why couldn't it have been Taehyung?
"This isn't just about Taehyung anymore, Y/N. That's not the root of the issue, is it?"
I don't want it to be. I don't want it to be about him. It's not about him. It's not about either of them. Why? Why, why, why?
The white of your shoes looks even more out of place against the wood floor. It's hard to breathe. The sound of her scribbling is so loud. Everything is too loud.
The air smells floral. It reminds you of the color yellow. Reminds you of Hoseok.
Sunflowers. There are sunflowers on the desk. You smile softly. Hoseok loves sunflowers.
The pain rips through your chest now. You know you'll be rushing to the bathroom after this. Yellow petals will be crimson in the toilet. They'll just continue to blossom without a care. Then you'll go to the coffee shop and sit in the same booth with the same smile on your lips and the same mask hiding your feelings. He'll sit across from you, smiling and beaming as he always does. Always so yellow. He'll ask you how the appointment went, and you'll lie. You always do. You have to.
It's always about him. Why does it have to be him?
...
"Daffodils?"
"Yea, figured your new place needed a bit of brightness!" Hoseok beams at you as he sets the vase down on the counter. He's right: the space is still quite empty, despite you unpacking all your belongings already. It's dim and bleak, but honestly, you wouldn't have it any other way. It at least represents you. The yellow flowers seem so out of place in the sea of grey around it. "Besides, they're your favorite." Your gaze flits over to Hoseok.
"You remember that?" Your tone is quiet and faint, somewhat weak if you wanted to admit it.
"Of course I do." Hoseok smiles again. Yellow. Oh so yellow. You'll be painting the floor of your bathroom yellow by the end of the day, crimson dusted yellow petals scattering the tile no doubt. "I remember everything about you." The force from the pain in your chest nearly makes you double over. It's such a strong sensation that you forget how to breathe for a moment.
His smile is so bright. Happy and warm too, and you don't want to look away. It should be a relief from the pain in your chest, and yet it's not. It only serves to make the feeling ten times worse.
"Of course..." You mutter, a small smile of your own playing at your lips. Turning away from Hoseok, you glance around the new apartment. It's nothing special, if anything, it's only a bit closer to the studio so you have less of a walk to get to work now. Smaller than your last apartment too, but that's alright since you didn't need so much space anyways. "The bed is huge!" Hoseok had noted when you first moved in. You silently wonder how many times Taehyung is going to fuck you into that very mattress, pressing your face down into it and fucking you with reckless abandon.
"You there, Y/N?" Hoseok's voice pulls you from the thought. "I asked you a question."
"Sorry, I was thinking about all the decorating I need to do to make this place feel more like home." You shake your head, pushing all thoughts of Taehyung to the back of your mind so you can solely focus on Hoseok instead.
"Well, I asked if you want to do anything in particular. I guess decorating would be an option?" Hoseok moves away from the counter and comes to step in front of you. "Or we could christen the place." You blanch at his words, the undeniable implications behind it causing a deep blush to rise on your neck and cheeks. You duck and turn away to hide the evidence of your embarrassment. You hope that Hoseok doesn't see the flush. "Not like that, Y/N, for fuck's sake. I'll leave that to you and Taehyung."
You sigh at his comment.
"We... uh, we didn't break up since we were never together but yea. We stopped, uh, seeing each other." You and Hoseok freeze at the same time.
"You what?"
"We stopped seeing each other?" You repeat, a bit more hesitance in your tone now.
"When?"
"Four and a half weeks ago. Maybe less, maybe more. I haven't been keeping track." You shrug in the hopes that Hoseok won't make this a huge deal. Knowing him though, that's a bit much to ask for.
"Really? You really haven't been keeping track?"
"I've been focused on the move, Hobi. And work. And things that aren't Taehyung so I don't go back to him yet again. I'm determined this time."
It's the truth, at least you feel like it is to some degree. In all honesty, the reason you told Taehyung that your arrangement needed to stop was because of Hoseok. Not necessarily because he told you to, but because you thought maybe it would somehow help get rid of the fucking pain in your chest and the fucking flowers blooming in your lungs. Four weeks and five days later, it's still doing nothing. Of course you've been keeping track. As the therapist told you, it's sex addiction. You need sex to function basically, according to her. And perhaps she's been right all along. Because now (four weeks and five days later) you don't need Taehyung. You need sex.
That realization hit harder than it should have. You always knew that you and Taehyung operated on a no strings attached relationship. The two of you agreed that there would be no feelings, no emotions involved, no nothing. Leaving Taehyung was easier than you thought. Leaving the sex itself wasn’t. Your stress levels are absolutely through the room at the moment, and you know that your work is suffering because of it. Yet you still want to stay strong.
"I'm proud of you, Y/N. Really, really proud." Hoseok moves closer to you, his hand brushes your arm, and you jolt as though a bolt of electricity has shot through your body. Hoseok doesn't comment on it, instead he keeps pressing forward until his hand latches onto your bicep. "Four and a half weeks is a long time. You're doing really well."
"Doesn't feel like it," you mutter. Even this proximity with Hoseok is sending surges of arousal through you. You need to get away from him. You have to get away from him. This isn't good for you. "Still feel stressed as fuck."
"I have an idea," Hoseok says. You know you need to put space between you and him, you know you need to back up and not let him get any closer because for fuck's sake you've made it four and a half weeks without sex. You don't fucking need it. "Do you trust me, Y/N?"
"Of course I do, Hobi. I trust you with my life."
And yet, that familiar pain in your chest isn't present. You can breathe. Unlike every single other time Hoseok has stepped close to you like this, you can breathe. You don't feel as though flower petals are going to surge through your esophagus. It feels fine.
"More than Taehyung?"
There's daffodils on the counter. So yellow, and yet somehow not as bright and yellow as Hoseok. How is that possible?
"This isn't about Taehyung," you argue. Hoseok's touch feels like it's burning your skin. He feels so hot, looks so bright it's like you're looking into the sun.
"Let's make sure it stays that way then, Y/N. Let's make sure this is just about you and me."
"I don't want Taehyung, Hobi. I never have. It's always been about you."
"I know, Y/N, I know." The words dispel all sensations of warmth in your gut. You're suddenly cold, oh so cold, and you yank your arm away from Hoseok. "Don't—Y/N, don't overreact please. I-I know how you feel about me. I've known for a while. I... I couldn't say anything because you were with Taehyung. I do-don't. I don't want this to change anything between us. Please? Don't let this change anything between us."
"Why are you fucking mentioning now of all times then?" You hiss as you take another step back. You can't look at Hoseok anymore, it's too much for you to handle, and that burning sensation is engulfing your lungs again.
"When else was I supposed to mention it? While you preoccupied with Taehyung? I couldn't do it then." You snap your head in Hoseok's direction, eyes blazing as you stare him down. It feels embarrassing and foolish, and you hate that he knows. You hate that he's known for a long time, and you absolutely cannot stand the fact that you've been making a fool of yourself for so long.
You fucking hate that he's known for so long, and your chest has only proceeded to get worse and worse. The flowers have only continued to bloom. You continue to puke sunflowers into the toilet with each passing day. He's known for so long and nothing has changed. That only makes you feel worse. You either need to curl into a ball and cry, jump off a bridge, or fuck it out of your system. With your arrangement with Taehyung on permanent hold and a strange desire to stay alive, you go for the first option.
Tears hit your cheeks before you know what's happening. Hoseok moves towards you, but you go down before he can reach you, squatting on the floor as you cover your eyes. It hurts so fucking much, and you can't do a damn thing about it.
"Shh, Y/N, shh, it's okay. It's okay, I promise. Everything is okay. You're okay. I'm okay. We're okay." Hoseok bends down beside you, one hand coming to rest on your shoulder. He rubs small circles against your back.
"It's not. It's not okay. Nothing is okay. Why the fuck have I been trying so hard for so long? God I'm such a fucking idiot," you rant through your sobs. A few hiccups follow, the cascade of tears on your cheeks continuing as Hoseok attempts to console you.
"It's okay, I promise. You can't decide whether something is okay for me or not. Only I get to decide that, yea? I've never held it against you. I've never thought it would change our relationship. None of that. Nothing has changed." Hoseok presses his cheek against your hair. It should be warm. You should feel the warmth of the action. Yet instead, it's cold. It's so so cold. "It's going to be okay."
Hoseok presses his lips against your forehead. The contact is warm. It blossoms across your skin. You want more. You need to feel it on your lips. You need it like you need oxygen.
You aren't sure how it happens but you end up in the bedroom. Sprawled over that massive bed that Hoseok commented on. Shirt and pants gone, only left clad in your underwear and bra. Hoseok is over you, one leg on either side of your hips. How did I get here? You wonder if this was the prime moment for you to disassociate. This - the moment you've been waiting for, the thing you've been wanting for so long - and your mind decides to go blank now of all times. Hoseok's skin is still so cold. How did we get here?
Lips work their way down your neck, tracing your collarbone and pressing marks against the skin there. Marks you've always wanted. Why does it feel so strange now that you have them? Panic surges through you. Have I reached a point where sex makes me feel nothing? Does it mean nothing? Have I gone too far? You struggle to grasp the reigns of control. Instead, you grab hold of the collar of Hoseok's shirt and use the force of your body to roll on top of him.
"You're taking too long," you mutter before crashing your lips against his. It's searing, burning, a fire in your gut. You need it, you need it, you need it. Fingers dance across the skin of his abdomen, darting under the fabric of his shirt and hooking onto the band of his sweatpants. The evident tent in his pants is proof enough of his arousal, but it makes your mouth nearly water when you tug the band over his restrained cock to release it. He's not wearing underwear, and you shouldn't be surprised because it's Hoseok of all people. He's a free spirit, hell, he'd go fully nude if he had the opportunity to. But now, it just heightens your arousal. You don't want to waste any time.
You don't even bother to take your underwear off or stretch yourself before taking his cock in your hands and pushing it against your slick folds. It's uncomfortable when you sink down on him, the stretch bigger and more painful than you anticipated, but you don't want to stop now. You need to keep going. To keep using. To keep consuming. More more more. It's never enough.
Even as you're building a steady rhythm and bouncing up and down on him, it doesn't feel right. You aren't feeling anything. It doesn't feel bad or good. Just nothing. Numb. You're numb. Hoseok is moaning loudly, and it compels you to mimic the sounds just so that he's not alone. His high is nearing quickly. You still don't feel a thing.
"A-Ah, Y/N, Y/N, stop. I ah I can't cum in you. Fuck, I'm not wearing protec—ah!" You push down particularly hard, and Hoseok lets out a high-pitched whine. You pull off him a moment later, watching blanking as his dick flops out of you still slick with your juices. You don't think twice before dipping down and taking him between your lips. It's sloppy and messy and disgusting but you continue until Hoseok releases a guttural moan and cums down your throat.
He's still recovering from the orgasm when you climb off of him. You immediately head for the bathroom, closing and locking the door behind you without a second thought. Bending over the toilet as though it's routine. Clutching blindly at your chest as the pain cascades over you in waves. More crystalline tears fall from your eyes as yellow and crimson fall into the clear water. All you can think about is how it's nothing like how it was with Taehyung. How the stress hasn't left. The feelings haven't left. The pain hasn't left. Nothing has changed.
It's always about him. I don't want it to be.
...
"Tae...hyung." You trail off instead of calling him by the old nickname you gave him.
"Y/N. It's been awhile, huh?"
Yes, you could say that. It's been quite some time. Five months, in fact (not like you've been counting or keeping track). How many days? You shouldn't be keeping track, you told Hoseok you weren't, and you told the therapist that you weren't. Neither of them know that you're here, meeting with Taehyung again, and talking through things with him again five months after the last time you said goodbye.
But the damn flowers in your lungs haven't gotten any better, and seeing Hoseok three or four times a week has only helped accelerate their process of growing and blooming. In the very least, you haven't made it worse by fucking him again, because you're certain that you would be long gone by now. Probably would have keeled over in front of the toilet at some point, face first in a bowl of crimson stained flower petals. Instead, you're here. Sitting in some random ass dingy diner near the building where you both work, and yet this is the first time you've seen each other in months. You told Hoseok it had been final. You would not see Taehyung again, and certainly would not have sex with him anymore.
"Yea, you could say that again..." You trail off, dragging your nails across the table. Across from you, Taehyung coughs, his whole body suddenly struck by a wave of heaves. He covers his mouth, and you watch him slowly try to stop the heaves from continuing to no avail. "Are you sick, Tae?"
"No, no, no. Just a little cold. I'm fine." Taehyung waves his hand and quickly dismisses your question.
"How is...how is debut coming along?" You ask. To be honest, you're unsure where to start a conversation with him, seeing as anytime the two of you were together, there was little to no conversation going on. At least, no talk of this nature. Your cheeks nearly flush at the thought of the dirty things Taehyung would hiss in your ear during sex, strange seeing as you never had any shame with him before.
"Just fine." Taehyung drags his thumb over the cup beside him, condensation sliding off to land on the pads of his fingers. "It won't be long until the big day. How is—" Taehyung cuts off with another cough, this one less violent than before but still concerning nonetheless. "How, uh, how is Hoseok doing? And work? I saw your name on a few tracks."
"Are you gonna be able to debut?" You ask all the sudden. Taehyung was not expecting the question either, from what you can tell, because his hand smacks the drink near him and spills it all over the table. The two of you jolt, both reaching for the same napkin. As soon as your skin touches his, Taehyung flinches away from you as though burned and slides out of the booth.
"I-I, uh, I need to g-go to the restroom re-real quick. Be, um, be right back." He's coughing as he goes, one hand over his mouth as he rushes to the bathroom, and something tells you that it isn't merely a cold he's suffering from. You blink at the place where Taehyung just was, eyes glued to the booth as water and ice continue to spill over the side of the table. A waitress rushes to the table, rag in hand, and she swiftly cleans up the mess without a word. Leaving as though you aren't even there. You count the seconds until Taehyung comes back until they blend into minutes and you start to lose track of the time when you look out the window. At the sky and the trees covered in deep yellow sunlight. Subconsciously, a smile finds its way to your lips and overcomes you.
"S-Sorry about that, I thought I was gonna be sick for a second." Taehyung startles you out of your reverie. The smile droops and slips into a frown within an instant. Taehyung must notice, because he comments on it a moment later. "Do you have to go meet him soon?"
"What?"
"Hoseok. You only ever smile like that when you're thinking about him." It's a poignant accusation, one that is quite accurate actually, but you despise it nonetheless.
"What kind of flowers?" You ask instead of answering him. Taehyung blanches, hands trembling again.
"Huh? For what?"
"The ones you threw up in the bathroom. What kind?" You continue. Leaning forward, you try to catch Taehyung's gaze with your own. "I know, Tae…"
"No you don't," he hisses back.
"You can't lie to me about this Taehyung."
"You don't know anything."
"Tae… is it daffodils?" His hesitance and the fear in his eyes tells you all you need to know. You aren't sure what you're expecting. "I-Is it m-me, Tae?" Again, he doesn't answer. His expression morphs, however, shifting into something unreadable, and yet it gives you all the answers you need. You shouldn't have been expecting anything to be honest. You should have known better. "I see…" Is this how Hoseok felt when he found out?
"Y/N, I-I'm—listen, it's not—you, it's just—"
"Me. It's me. Yea, I understand. I guess I got what I deserved with the sunflowers then." You expect Taehyung to question you now, ask what you mean by that, wonder why you're bringing up sunflowers all the sudden. He doesn't do any of those things. Just… stares at you sadly, as though he knows. He knows. "It's Hoseok. H-How could I no-not fall for him?" You could have phrased that better, in fact you probably should have not said that at all.
"How could I not fall for you?" Taehyung replies, smile sad when it comes to his lips a moment later. "Who else could I have chosen?"
"Someone better."
"There is no one better, Y/N."
"Someone who could fucking love you back and not leave you with fucking hanahaki disease."
"I don't need you to love me back. I'm just lucky enough to love you as it is."
"That's not fair to you," you hiss through grit teeth. The tears are beginning to come to your eyes, stinging the corners of your eyes, and before you can stop it, they're spilling down your cheeks.
"I'm the only person who gets to decide what's fair to me and what's not. I'm happy with the way things are. Well, I mean I was happier when we were sleeping together, but that's not much of an option anymore, is it?"
"It's not—"
"If you say it's not right or fair one more time, I'll leave."
"You fucking deserve better than me!"
"I deserve a whole hell of a lot worse than you, Y/N. But it isn't about what I deserve, I can't change the fact that I love you. Otherwise I would never have agreed to the deal in the first place and started sleeping with you. There wouldn't be flowers growing in my lungs, or I would have had a damn procedure a long time ago. I won't stop loving you or caring about you or anything like that. It's not that easy, is it?" You sit in silence as you digest his words.
"It wasn't supposed to turn out like this for us, was it?" He laughs under his breath.
…never would have agreed to the deal in the first place…
You freeze. The two of you never made a deal. There was no deal. It was just about you and Taehyung and sexual urges. You clench your fists against the table.
"What deal?"
Taehyung cocks his head to the side. "I-I, uh, I didn't mention a deal?"
"Yes you did. What deal, Taehyung?"
"N-Nothing." Taehyung looks down at the table, avoiding your gaze. Your fists uncurl to lay flat against the table.
"Why can't you just be honest with me, Taehyung?"
"You aren't going to like my answer..." The man across from you trails off, and he finally looks up at you. "I can't hurt you, Y/N. Please don't ask me to hurt you. I can't do that to you."
You narrow your eyes at Taehyung. "I don't understand why not since it's about me."
For a moment, everything is so yellow that it overwhelms you. Blinding you, seeping into your skin and filling you with warmth, lining your skin with it's touch. You should be thinking of Hoseok. He's so yellow, so perfect, so wonderful, and yet. And yet the only thing on your mind is Taehyung. Taehyung, whose touch is so warm and smile so bright. It's all Taehyung, all you can feel and breathe, he's your everything in that brief moment.
"I can't be the one to tell you. It's not my place. I'm sorry, Y/N."
Your chest still hurts. It burns, your throat stings and feels as though it's closing on itself, and you know that soon you'll be rushing to the bathroom and fighting the urge to throw up more sunflowers.
It's always about him. I'm so tired of it being him.
...
"Hoseok."
The mood is bleak when he steps through the door, and the first thing he sees in the apartment is yellow. Everywhere around him, so bright and yellow that it almost blinds him. There are vases upon vases spread over every counter, table, surface after surface covered in flowers. He didn't pinpoint Taehyung as the type to decorate, especially not with bright yellow flowers like this, but he supposes that he doesn't know Taehyung well enough to understand his methods of interior design.
Daffodils.
"Taehyung. You asked for me?"
He should've known it would be daffodils. Hoseok turns away from the flowers, hands pressed into his pockets, and looks over to where Taehyung is standing by the door frame.
"She asked about the deal."
Hoseok pauses, eyes flitting up to meet Taehyung's. "W-What did you say?" He can't hold back the quiver in his tone. "Did you te—"
"That it's not my place to tell her. I didn't mention you at all, but that doesn't mean she can't put two and two together. Just you know... in case she comes to you. So you can be ready to explain things."
"How bad is it, Taehyung?" Hoseok asks. He doesn't specify, but the obvious glances around at the flowers and vases littering the apartment are enough to give Taehyung clues as to what he's asking about. Taehyung glances over at a vase. Eyes are glassy, crystalline tears swelled in the corners.
"You know… I'm supposed to debut in less than three months."
Hoseok drops his chin.
"I won't make it past one apparently."
"Fuck, Taehyung." He doesn't know what to say in response, and to be frank, there isn't much he can say at the end of the day.
"Doctors want to go ahead and do the procedure. At least let me have a career for awhile, even if it doesn't end well. Have one thing going for me, right?"
"But you don't want to," Hoseok states, adding a small nod to accentuate his words.
"Of course not," Taehyung laughs. It doesn't change the mood at all, the lingering sadness remains, the tears ready to fall at any second now. It won't change anything, and Hoseok was a fool to think it would.
"I'm so sorry, Tae."
"Why? You've done nothing wrong." Taehyung's smile is too bright. He seems too happy about this whole situation, but maybe it's just the overwhelming scent of daffodils filling his senses.
"If I hadn't asked you… if I had just been honest with her… you wouldn't—you might—" Hoseok cuts himself off. The words are too hard to get out in all honesty, even though he knows they're the truth. Taehyung seems to know exactly what's on his mind.
"I agreed to the deal because I already loved her. You didn't do anything. Didn't change anything. Didn't make it any different. I was doomed from the second I saw her. At least... at least I got to have her for a time. I'll always be grateful for that, and that was all thanks to you. Without you, I wouldn't have done anything. Probably died a lot sooner since she barely knew who I was. Who knows. It doesn't matter what you did, Hoseok. You did a good thing. Tried your best to, at least. I just didn't stand a chance."
"It was supposed to work. I was supposed to fix things. The deal wasn't for me. It was for you. It was for her."
"Love is a funny thing," Taehyung mutters. He walks over to the counter, grabbing hold of one of the daffodils and twirling it between his fingers. "Especially when it's unrequited. Can't love anyone else even if you want to."
"Do you want to love someone else, Taehyung?"
"No, never. I could never want that. I know she does though. She told me that once after sex. "I wish I loved you but I can't". You tried your best, Hoseok. You can't blame yourself anymore. We just… couldn't change her mind, and that's okay."
"She's going to die, Tae. That's not okay."
"Does she want the procedure?"
"No, of course not. I haven't even bothered asking, I know what her answer would be. It sounds wrong… but if she doesn't want the procedure, I don't want to make her get it. As much as I want her to live… I want her to be happy more. If she's happy like this, then I can't take that away from her. I just can't let her die." Hoseok pauses, eyes lingering on the daffodil in Taehyung's hands. Thinking of the stray sunflower petals he found on the bathroom floor the morning after having sex with you. The ones even before that, the way he could smell the sunflowers on your skin every time he was with you. The way he knew, and yet in the end he was unable to do anything.
"I can't either. I'd rather go out myself, but I guess that's already happening."
"Tae…”
"What can you do, Hoseok? What could you have done?"
"Make sure things end differently." Hoseok turns on his heel, hands falling out of his pockets to grab hold of the jacket he dropped on the counter beside a vase of flowers.
"Hoseok, you can't—there's nothing you can do!"
"Fucking watch me," he hisses back at Taehyung without bothering to look back at him.
It's always about him. Why can't it be me?
...
It's cold.
You should be used to the sensation by now, but something about it is different this time. It isn't coming from inside of you, rather it's the air around you that's suffocating and chilly. It seeps through your skin, digging it's way into you until it occupies your veins. The white tile under your feet radiates cold as well. Everything about this place is cold. The mood. The people. The air.
Warmth reaches your arm. A hand closes around your forearm, and you look to the man on your left. Yellow. He's so yellow. You wonder how much longer it's going to last.
"I'm sorry," he whispers. You press your lips into a smile. It's forced, and that much is evident, but you aren't sure what else to do. There isn't much you can do in this situation, the decision has already been made, and you don't think there is any going back now. "I'm so sorry, Y/N."
"It's okay," you reassure, placing your own hand over the one on your arm. "I don't blame you for any of this, Hoseok. It's not your fault."
"I'm still sorry."
"I know. I'm telling you that you don't have to be."
"I can't…c-can't not be."
"It'll be better this way."
"You won't be happy."
"I'll manage." Another smile, this one even more forced than the last, and you hope that he doesn't see the wavering confidence in your expression. "I always do."
"Miss L/N? We're ready for you."
"Guess that's my sign to leave." You sigh and retract your hand from Hoseok's arm.
"Y/N—" Hoseok cuts off and clears his throat. He looks up as you stand, joining the woman clad in a white coat and pale blue scrubs. "I-I'll see you when you're done?"
"Hoseok…” You trail off, unable to finish the sentence. Instead, you shake your head slightly.
"I can tell you about the deal when you're done?"
"I think it's best if I just don't know any more details about that."
"Right…"
"Actually, I-I think it's best if you—if you just go home. I'll be fine."
"I'm sorry," Hoseok mutters yet again.
"I said don't be, Hoseok. I'm doing this for you, but I don't think you want to see the aftermath." The nurse at your side seems to notice the spike in tension between you and Hoseok. She steps between you and his line of sight.
"Sir, we ask that you respect her wishes. We promise to take good care of her, you don't need to worry about that."
"Of course, of course." Hoseok nods a few times before standing up and glancing around the nurse to see you. "Good luck, Y/N. I… I'm sorry things turned out like this."
He doesn't say anything more than that. Turns on his heel and heads down the hallway the same direction you came, and soon he's completely out of your sight.
"Let's go ahead and get started, Miss L/N. I promise we'll make this process as painless as possible. You're in good hands."
As painless as possible. Yeah. It won't hurt one bit.
Funny how watching Hoseok walk down the hall and disappear from your sight didn't hurt one bit. It's as though the flowers are already withering up inside you, dying and taking your feelings for him with them. Each step into the cold hospital room is like another petal falling. You wonder how long it would take for them all to wither up and die.
"Right this way, Miss L/N."
Not long enough or too long?
It's always about him. I'd do anything for him.
...
The apartment is an absolute disaster, and Hoseok cannot take his eyes off the mess for one second. Glass everywhere, shards covering the floor so much that he wouldn't even dream of taking his shoes off before stepping further in. Shattered vases left and right with their water spilled all over the floor. And flowers. Bright yellow flowers scattered across the room. Those damn daffodils.
"Taehyung?"
Maybe he shouldn't have come today, but after you asked him to leave the hospital, he couldn't just go home and be left alone with his thoughts. He needed to come here and see Taehyung. Maybe convince him to get help too. Try to do something since he royally fucked everything else up.
Yea, wouldn't that be fantastic? Fix things? A cruel joke, if anything.
Hoseok steps forward, trying to ignore the crunch of glass under his shoes, and bends down to pick up the first daffodil in sight.
A hint of red of the spotless yellow petals.
Hoseok's blood runs cold. He picks up another flower.
Another touch of red on the underside of the petals.
"Oh god Taehyung…" Hoseok doesn't stop to check any more flowers. Perhaps two isn't enough to make a proper assumption, but Hoseok is certain he doesn't need more evidence to know why Taehyung had so many flowers and why the apartment is in the state it is now. "Taehyung?"
"You know… I'm supposed to debut in less than three months."
Worse than he thought. Hoseok thought that the last time he came by Taehyung's apartment. The ridiculous amount of flowers in the room was enough to show him that something was horribly wrong. No one has so many flowers, even when plagued by the damn disease.
"I won't make it past one apparently."
And how long has it been since then? Not long enough.
More glass crunches under Hoseok's shoes as he moves forward, an awkward jog to the bedroom where he knows Taehyung has to be. The door is either locked or barricaded with something when he reaches it. Hoseok slams his shoulder against the wood once, twice, three times before it bursts open. A chair falls to the floor, nearly tripping Hoseok as he moves into the bedroom. He doesn't waste time in looking around the room much; instead, he rushes for the bathroom.
Yellow light filters under the door, cascading crude shadows across the carpet. Hoseok forces himself to slow down and walk to the door as calmly as he can. A slight twist of the handle. It clicks. Odd how Taehyung took the time to barricade his bedroom door but didn't bother locking the bathroom.
Part of Hoseok doesn't want to open the door. Part of him knows exactly what's behind it. He doesn't want the confirmation, and yet — and yet he needs it. Needs to see the consequences of his own actions and choices with his own two eyes.
The door clicks open.
Bloomed in a garden of loneliness
He smells daffodils and blood. The scent overwhelms him in an instant. In fact, it's so strong that he has to bring a hand to his nose to block it from overwhelming him any further.
A flower that resembles you
Flower petals across the counter and in the sink, trailing their way down to the toilet and floor. The seat's up, yellow and red filling the toilet until it overflows.
I wanted to give it to you…
And there, in the bathtub, curled into himself so tightly that Hoseok can barely tell who he is, lies Taehyung.
Someone tell me why it had to be you?
...
a/n: whew thank you for sticking around for the long ride if you made it to the end! please give me some feedback and let me know what you think of the fic! the three lines before the end (Bloomed in a garden of loneliness, a flower that resembles you, I wanted to give it to you) are from the truth untold by bts :D
forever tags: @hotnoodle @nmjcn
thanks to @franklytae and @thinksshesawolf for entertaining me and my ideas throughout the process of this fic, i luv u all very very much :3
#magicshopnet#ficswithluv#btsbookclub#btswriterscollective#bangtanhq#bangtanarmynet#kwritersworldnet#luvlibrary#95line.net#kth#kth smut#taehyung smut#bts smut#bts x reader#bts angst#taehyung angst#taehyung x reader#kth x reader#kth angst#taehyung fic#bts fic#bts oneshot#bts one shot#hoseok x reader#hoseok#jhs#jhs smut#jhs angst#hoseok angst#hoseok smut
424 notes
·
View notes
Text
Earlier today Cali asked me quite possibly the worst thing you CAN ask me
And boy howdy did I have some thoughts.
idk if ive mentioned it here before or not but I have a lot of feelings about the idea of redemption in psy2. I LIKE the idea that no one is beyond redemption, that people can be good and that we are all, at our core, just hurting. and those are the themes that psychonauts plays with. mental illnesses that are seen as "scary" like the inmates (though the inmates themselves are rarely presented as scary, with maybe the exception of Edgar because he's just. huge.) - bipolar mood swings with inexplicable rage, Edgar's anger issues and sheer strength combined into an intimidating figure, and the stigma of multiple personalities like how Fred acts meek one second and then on the warpath the next when he "switches". All of these oooh scary mental illnesses are literally just people grappling with trauma. Edgar's OCD and the trauma from high school, Fred's... weird genetic memory issues, and Gloria's inner critic and the death of her mother. These things are like, Normal People Problems (sorry fred idk what the fuck is up with u buddy ur on another level all together) and really contextualize the inmates' mental illness in a way that emphasizes the main theme of empathy.
I intentionally leave Boyd out of this because while the root of his mental illness is schizoaffective paranoia, his ROLE as the Milkman and in fact his entire mindscape is the product of Oleander's hypnosis.
So like, I VIBE WITH THAT, its a really really interesting take on the conversation about mental illness and how these things do not make people inherently bad or scary!!
But I feel like, BASED ON WHAT WE KNOW RIGHT NOW, that the Galochios - or, at the very least, Zalto on his own - fall into a different kind of category.
The Galochios from the start are jealous people. They're jealous of the Aquato's fame and think that they deserve more recognition which in and of itself isn't a bad thing per se - wanting to feel appreciated and recognized and seen is just a basic human desire, I think. But jealousy isnt a mental illness. Jealousy is a natural human emotion that we, as rational and empathetic people, must make the conscious choice to deal with in healthy ways. The Galochios don't, and they let that consume them from the start - where they allow themselves to hate the Aquatos for their fame, where they allow themselves to ostracize Marona, where they drive her out of the family and where they attempt to drag her back, it's not the product of mental illness destroying relationships like someone in Edgar's position might experience, but pure pride and jealousy directed towards the Aquato family.
And like from there its just all downhill
And I could argue that from this point things compound to create a mental landscape that maybe isnt the picture of health in the Galochios, because grief can really, really fuck you up, and regardless of how they acted, losing a daughter or a sister when Marona died, could not have been easy.
But I cannot read "the Galochios crowded around the tank to gleefully watch Lazarus's decapitation" and be like "aw they're just hurting 8(" because mental illness is not synonymous with undue cruelty.
Like the Galochios at every turn are presented with A Choice and by god they're determined to make the wrong one. Whether or not this is motivated by grief or jealousy or whatever doesnt matter, because even when you are mentally ill it is still the bare minimum to not gleefully watch someone you dont like get decapitated, u know?
That is, I think, them consumed by jealousy and hate and seeing nothing wrong with it because it benefits them and hurts people they dont like. Thats. that's not mental illness that's just being an asshole
So while I absoLUTEly vibe with Psychonaut's theme of empathy and compassion and understanding that mental illness isnt bad or scary, and that we're all struggling with something, I think that narrative has two sides to it, and the same way that "we're all struggling with something" lends to the idea that we need to extend compassion to others, the Galochios being so stubbornly cruel as to be irredeemable in the narrative of psychonauts two lends to the equally important theme of "but you can not sacrifice yourself for people who do not WANT help"
Because of the nature of the things the Galochios have done (and perhaps, are still doing, as we move into the secrets behind the RoR and Psy2 narrative) I think that it would take a LOT. A LOT. for the writing to pass off a Galochio redemption in a meaningful and complete way, because of the nature of the choices they make. From what I know about them right now, these are not the actions of people who are... hallucinating grandeur or some greater purpose who believe in some hidden agenda like Boyd. From what I can gather and what we already know about the Galochio backstory, this is just the kind of people they are.
Now, taking into account Zalto specifically, I can without a doubt see him having some major psychological damage. Like I said earlier, grief can really, really fuck you up, and Zalto experienced more grief than reasonable, all at once, with the tank accident. He was already not the most stable person. ("But Daisy!" I hear you cry, "Augustus lost his entire family in a year and didn't snap like that!" True but look me in the eye and tell me you think he's coped with it in a healthy manner. Augustus experienced unreasonable amounts of grief and as a result his ten year old thinks he wants him dead.)
So if that turns out to be the case, and we see a level where we actually do deal with that grief in a healthy way (which imo would be very interesting to see the trauma of grief treated the same as mental illness - even though we all experience grief at some point, sooooome of us dont quite take it as well as others, whoops!) we could see the baseline path to a Zalto redemption.
But really it all boils down to responsibility for their actions and how they handle their trauma and the fact that eight Aquatos were murdered does not automatically become sympathetic because Zalto was dealing with grief. I personally, would be really interested to see the Galochios as villains end the game as villains and for that stubbornness and unwillingness to accept empathy or help be shown as their downfall, because irl its incredibly unhealthy and self-destructive to refuse help or refuse to SEEK help when you very clearly know that something is hurting you, and that you are in turn hurting others.
I also REALLY don't want them to be given the Oleander treatment.
As much as I love Oleander, I feel like a lot about his character was mismanaged, and he was turned into comedic relief in RoR.
like. A lot of my thoughts on the psy2 narrative as a whole relies heavily on the li-po document of course but the story that we were given IN psy1 vs the story that we are told in the document are so STARKLY different.
"Oleander wants to take over the world because he's angry at tall people from that time from that time his dad killed his bunny, which traumatized him" is NOT the same as "Oleander spent his formative years FIRMLY BELIEVING that his father saw him as a burden because he was small, thought he was nothing better than pig slop, and witnessed the death of an animal that he had a psychic connection to, after which he spent his entire life attempting to make his father proud only to be rejected by every branch of the military. By the time he was finally a Psychonaut and felt he would be able to make his father proud despite his stature, both of his parents died horribly in a meat grinder accident while he was away training."
NOT THE SAME HOLY SHIT.
Oleander had so much POTENTIAL but he was kinda shoehorned into a very two-dimensional role. Idk if it was because of budget or time or what, because the production of psy1 was very..... not great. But its absolutely a SHAME to see such a heartbreaking backstory reduced to "short and angry about it"
And it absolutely cheapens his redemption, too.
The fact that Oleander's story was so heavily pruned COMBINED with the fact that - while it's hinted at in game, its honestly INSANELY difficult to put two and two together imo because of how its presented, Ford outright tells us that Oleander's assignment to whispering Rock was the cause of his mental break (the camp sits on a motherload of psitanium. It makes psychics more psychics, and unstable people more unstable.")
that's never once brought into the resolution of Oleander's character arch and the processing of his trauma and how the psychonauts directly contributed to his deteriorating mental state that led him to try and take over the world because they so deeply misunderstand psitanium but decided to build a kids summer camp training facility on top of it
thats like... early experimentation with nuclear materials before we understood the dangers of radiation. Not to stay topical or anything, but its a clearly dangerous substance that the Psychonauts treat very blase.
But to get back on track there, I really hope that if the Galochios DO receive a redemption arc in psy2, which seems likely given the overarching theme of the games themselves even extending to Loboto of all people... I hope they don't butcher it like they did with Oleander's. Given that they've had five years and a LOT more experience with this genre and its storytelling conventions (plus the fact that they're just excellent storytellers to begin with) I have a cautious optimism that whatever happens with the Galochios it will at least be a satisfying conclusion. (For comparison, Oleander's butchered redemption is still kinda held together by the satisfying conclusion of the game, in which Raz actually becomes a Psychonaut so that isnt to say that psy1 didnt have a satisfying conclusion)
and at this point im sure you're regretting telling me to talk as much as i want because if there's one thing you ought to know about me by now its that i never shut up about the Galochios and honestly I've had a lot of thoughts about them and the themes of Psychonauts and the general structure of storytelling in the Psychonauts games overall.
As for the Galochio family themselves, I'm fascinated to see exactly who survived and what the power structure of the remaining Galochios is. If Zalto makes the final cut, I want VERY badly to know how he treats his family and if his anger has kinda pervaded what was probably a long time ago a relatively tight knit family. I want to see the individuals involved in this, how far they're each willing to go and where that lies in relation to Zalto. Like everyone has their moral limits, and if Zalto is utterly consumed by his goal to either obliterate the Aquatos or resurrect his family (shudder) his tolerance for atrocities may be much higher than that of his family members, which would automatically sow dissonance within the family when one by one people start deciding this is too much, this is too far, we cant keep doing this.
9 notes
·
View notes