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#Day Nineteen: Haunt
afieldinengland · 1 year
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#thinking about back when i passed for a dorian myself. do you think i still do?#ah. too old in the eyes and the liver now maybe. my own fault— something’s harder in my middle. i suppose it’s adulthood#which is of course different to maturity. i already had that. i’d like to think at least#either way. i don’t know if i pass for a prince anymore. something else something else#would i want to? has there been a change that was total?#more like a wounded knight really. well it’s the pretty word games i miss— seducing with taboo. i’m telling stories again#only once or twice have i had the opportunity. dorian did it every day#ganymede narcissus…. hyacinth. warm dead boys#harri can you lighten up a little? you’re nineteen. twenty in july. youth.#there is absolutely nothing in this world but youth. nothing lonelier#i’m becoming my father. mad and soft and cynical#i doubt dorian could drink like i do. no weak london stock you’re wiltshire blood#shoulders to carry buckets. a stare to melt a canvas. i don’t know. i worry#talking talking talking. forgive me it’s been a while since i’ve loosened my tongue like this#i don’t know if i could be coveted. i know i have been. these things coexist#but i’m old now and i’m tired and i want to taste blood when i bite as well as tar-paper#conjuring up bloody idols to make a friend’s insides less haunting. shouldn’t even say that#just…. thinking. thinking thinking about prettier words that make men blush. i think i’m just lonely#dorian got sick of it too. emerging from the attic. now only dogs will follow me
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sttoru · 6 months
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𝐈𝐓’𝐒 𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐈𝐍 .
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⟣ sypnosis. a nightmare of your lover’s disappearance wakes you from your sleep.
⟣ tags. gojo satoru x female reader. angst, comfort, fluff. takes place after gojo’s unsealed but before dec 24th, bits of spoilers jjk leaks 236 at the end. mentions of death, blood.
⟣ note. based on it’s happening again by agnes obel. coping rn dhmu . . . not proofread bcs i cant read through my tears anyways hope u enjoy im gonna cry myself to sleep now
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everyone has to die at one point — not even the strongest of all could avoid that tragical fate. not even the strongest sorcerer you call your lover.
no, not even him. the universe couldn’t spare him. you thought that maybe, it would. maybe fate wouldn’t apply to him. oh, how wrong you were.
blood splatter—a stream of red liquid. right at your feet. right in front of your eyes. a man in half. and not just any regular man;
“satoru !”
your dark surroundings become blurry with tears, your body jolts out of its current dreaming state. you could feel your heart in your chest—in your throat. your brain shut itself off for a few seconds as your eyes try to make out shapes and figures in the room you’re in. your bedroom.
you only then realises that it was all just a gruesome nightmare. a hyperrealistic one at that; one that will haunt you for years.
“hmmh.. ‘m right here, baby.” a groggy voice next to you replies to your yell in agony. the yell that was the shape of your lover’s name leaving your lips—
you instantly turn your head to the right and there he was; the man whom just met death in your dreams. gojo satoru, all alive and well. in your bed, in your presence, in your life.
satoru’s hand aimlessly pats the space next to him in search of your body whilst he rubbed his eyes with the other, trying to adjust his sight to the dark so he could find you. you seemed to be in complete distress. which he does not like.
“it’s okay, shh, shh,” your lover hums, hand finally finding your arm. he doesn’t hesitate to pull you on top of him—your head laying on his chest.
his body was warm. his heartbeat was there. loud and clear in your right ear.
“satoru. . .” a river of tears flows down your cheeks like a dam that has been broken into. your body trembles, lungs feeling like they couldn’t get any air in them from how hard you were sobbing. the pain of losing your loved one; it all came flowing back to you.
satoru frowns, “hey, hey. look at me — sweetheart, c’mon.”
he instantly sits up and pulls you along with him. his hands find your cheeks, tilting your head up. this time it was his turn to feel his heart break in pieces. you looked absolutely distraught. as if you just went through a traumatic experience of some kind. he hated it.
“shit,” satoru mutters under his breath before pulling you into his embrace again, arms circling your waist with his head buried in the crook of your neck, “it’s okay, i’m here now. you’re safe.”
it wasn’t the first time you had nightmares when he was with you. you had them regularly after satoru had gotten sealed in the prison realm for nineteen days—nineteen days of dread for you. of an empty bed, an empty house and an empty life.
when satoru had finally been released from the prison realm it was like a dream come true. a happy dream, that is. not those repetitive, bad ones you have every now and then. you still get those nightmares of your lover being either taken away from you by force or by death itself. your brain couldn’t give you a break — even after his return.
“take a deep breath in,” satoru instructs and sets an example by doing the breathing exercise with you, “hold it for three seconds . . . breathe out for six. mhmm, good—jus’ like that.”
you repeat it a couple more times, sobbing and shaking throughout the entirety of the exercise, but eventually manage to calm down a little. satoru sighs in relief at this;
“you okay, baby?”
you nod weakly and sniff, wanting nothing more than to be held by the man you thought had vanished from your life forever. you had that scare once, when he was sealed, and you never want to go back to those dark times. ever.
“it’s— i, just—“ you hiccup once, unable to complete entire sentences, “i thought you w-were gone. i thought you had died.”
it was silent after that (except for the sound your silent sobs and sniffles). satoru had guessed by now that you saw him die in your dream — that much was pretty obvious. but, the thought that you were this distressed because of it makes him. . . happy in a way.
happy that someone would mourn over him at least.
“well,” satoru pensively replies, hands rubbing your back up and down soothingly, “everyone has to meet their end one day, you know?”
that sentence was one that was meant to lighten up the grim mood somehow. one of his many lighthearted remarks that were supposed distract you from your tears. it would work during other moments like these — were you’d be too baffled by the things satoru says to care about what you were crying for — yet today it only worsens your misery.
“shut up.” you weakly punch his chest to which the white haired male chuckles softly, his slender fingers instantly interlocking with yours. satoru’s thumb brushes against your wrist before pulling it up to his lips, placing ticklish kisses among your skin.
another silence hangs in the air.
“seriously though. . . if i were to somehow die, i’d want you to live and move on, yeah?” your lover whispers in such a quiet tone that it was almost inaudible. satoru had looked death right in the eye before — he didn’t care back then if it were actually his end.
he does now. he has the world to lose — his world — his everything. you.
satoru wants to live a happy life with you. he doesn’t want to die now that he has you. the love of his life which he wants to grow old with. maybe have kids with. start an own family away from the busy streets, away from the swarming curses in the city and away from all that sorcerer stuff. it was a nice dream.
“shut it!” you huff and satoru takes another weak punch to the chest. his gaze lands upon your tear struck face and he instantly drops the serious ‘act’.
the sorcerer laughs, his usual boyish laugh that makes you feel better, and he flips you both over so that he has you pinned underneath him. satoru grins before kissing your tummy all over, making you giggle from the ticklish feeling;
“i’m playin’, baby! i’m not going anywhereeee!” he promises through wet pecks against your skin, the smile on his evident even if you couldn’t see it — you could hear it in his voice.
satoru leaves your tummy and moves on to your neck and face. he was smothering you in affection in hopes you’d cheer up some way. he just wants you to forget about anything bad happening to him. you didn’t deserve to think about all that stuff — you deserve to be happy and full of joy.
even without him one day.
“i’d never leave my princess all alone.” satoru shakes his head and pouts dramatically, “who else is gonna spoil you? or kiss and cuddle you to bed, huh?”
you finally show an ounce of joy. a tiny smile. that was all satoru had needed to see. he wasn’t going to stop there, however. his goal was to turn that small smile into a full blown fit of laughter.
“i’m one of a kind, baby. you’re never gonna meet a man like me.” he continues with a proud grin, putting all of his body weight on top of you which causes you to groan and grumble a lighthearted complain.
satoru knows you like it whenever he clings to you and thus he uses that piece of knowledge to help you feel better. his head was buried into your shoulder, limbs enveloping your body like a koala.
“whatever.” you roll your eyes and snuggle up to your lover, closing your eyes as the tiredness hits your body after all that crying.
“whatever !” satoru mocks you in a high-pitched tone, followed by a pair of giggles from the two of you. a third and final punch to the chest finally shuts him up for the rest of the night.
the sorcerer made sure you had fallen asleep first before he whispered the next words in your ear, hoping they’d calm your mind and body so that no nightmares would ever bother you again;
“don’t you worry, sweets. i’m not leaving you. ever.”
. . .
those were the same exact words satoru wished he could utter to you one last time before the current date — 24th of december.
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valeskafics · 1 month
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"Punishment" - Anakin Skywalker x Padawan!Reader
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a/n: a request for my darling @xxhellfirebunnyxx - i hope this lives up to your expectations dolly my dear 🩷🩷. this is my first full oneshot for ani, so be gentle with me besties haha🩷
Summary: Anakin puts you in your place after you put your safety at risk on a mission.
TW: dubcon due to power imbalance between master and padawan, profanity, innuendo, she/her pronouns, afab reader, spanking, choking, inappropriate use of the force, fingering, p in v sex, breeding kink
Word Count: 2,750 words
Rating: 18+, MDNI
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Star Wars characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.
Comments, likes, and reblogs are never required but are immensely appreciated 🩷
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When you were told the Chosen One would be replacing Jaro Tapal as your Jedi Master, you were a bit conflicted. Being nineteen years old and so close to facing the trials, the change is somewhat unsettling. But, with the shortage of available Masters to pair with younglings and Anakin Skywalker’s padawan having recently left the Order, it made sense. Anakin didn’t want to have to start from scratch with a youngling. Having someone who already had foundational knowledge as his padawan and wouldn’t even remain a padawan was the ideal situation for him.
What neither of you saw coming, however, was falling in love. Somewhere between the late night meditations, the early morning training sessions, the off-world missions, Anakin became the person you can’t live without. And you became the love of Anakin’s life, his only source of happiness. This love affair of yours, however, if exposed, would have serious repercussions. So, you kept it a secret. Sneaking into each other’s quarters to exchange forbidden kisses, lingering touches to the other’s hand during a mission…
The complication that arises from your Master being in love with you is his overprotectiveness when you two go on missions. Not only is he trying to protect his padawan when he protects you, but he’s trying to protect the woman he loves. And while you appreciate what it is he’s doing, you have a mind of your own. You’re just as stubborn as he is and refuse to be sidelined while he gets all the glory.
Which has come back to haunt you today.
The ride back to Coruscant couldn’t be more tense. Anakin had specifically instructed you to stay with the ship and wait for him to return. Naturally, you did the exact opposite. The ride home is usually the part of the mission where you sit in Ani’s lap, letting him teach you some of his piloting tricks. But today, you sit in the seat beside him, drumming your fingers against your thigh. You don’t think you’ve ever seen Anakin look so serious, and that’s saying something.
“Oh, come on, Master, don’t be so mad-”
“Don’t be so mad?” He repeats, his voice sharp as he turns to glare at you, “You do realize you could’ve been hurt much worse than you ended up being.”
You roll your eyes at his words, ignoring the truth behind them, “But I wasn’t. My idea worked.”
“Because you got lucky,” Anakin snaps, “Your job as my padawan is to listen to me. You’re too damn cocky and one of these days, you’re going to get seriously hurt.”
“I’m not cocky!” You protest, an annoyed expression on his face, “I’m confident. There’s a difference.”
“You went into the middle of the battlefield, alone while outnumbered by the enemy. That’s reckless,” Anakin shakes his head in disbelief, his voice cracking slightly as he speaks, his voice teetering on the edge of that of a disappointed Jedi Master and a lover who nearly lost their other half, “You’re lucky you only got a bit banged up.”
“It was a distraction! The clones were coming in right behind me!”
“It was still a dangerous situation. The mission was to secure the area. Not to take the fight to the enemy. Your job was to stay by the ship and report anything suspicious.”
His gaze lingers on the scrapes that litter your body, the bruises that are slowly darkening against your skin. But, too stubborn to admit any wrongdoing on your part, you simply slouch in your seat and grab your datapad as you mumble out a “whatever”.
Anakin shakes his head, grabbing the datapad out of your hands and tossing it aside, “No.”
“Hey, give that back-”
He grabs your chin with his metal hand, jerking you up to face him, demanding your attention, “If you’re going to act like a reckless child, then I’m going to treat you like one. No more screen time until we get back to Coruscant.”
Your jaw drops, “What?! You can’t be serious, Anakin!”
When he shows no indication of changing his mind, you give him an annoyed glare, “You suck.”
“And you act like a child. Now stop whining.”
You hate to admit it, but that firm, domineering edge to his voice is enough to have you crossing your legs, squirming in your seat. It’s always gotten you a bit hot under the collar when he exerts his dominance over you, but right now, you have a point to prove. And that’s not going to happen by bending over for him and “yes sir”ing. No, you need to be strong. You need to resist him.
-
The rest of the ride back to Coruscant is spent in somewhat uncomfortable silence. You stare straight ahead, refusing to look at Anakin. But you’re painfully aware of his presence, and the way he keeps leveling you with that blue-eyed gaze.
It’s late when you finally get home. No one is in the hangar, no one in the hall. Everyone is already asleep for the night or out on missions of their own. Force’s sake, you wish you could go find Kestis or one of the others to complain to, but no such luck. You start to stomp back toward your quarters, footsteps echoing through the corridor, when that cold metal hand grabs you by the wrist, stopping you from going any further.
“Ugh, what?” You demand.
Anakin pulls you back toward him so that you stumble against his chest, your free hand reaching out to balance yourself. The tension between you is thick, like a time bomb ready to explode. His eyes bore into yours in that typical way he has of making you feel naked under his gaze. Vulnerable. 
“Apologize.”
His voice is low, stern. So very demanding.
But you’re not giving in, responding in an almost petulant voice, “No. No, I don’t think I will, Master.”
“No?” He arches a brow, his tone still the same but a smirk playing on his lips, “Then you’ll get a punishment instead.”
You let out a yelp of surprise as he pins you to the wall, grabbing your wrists and holding them above your head with one hand, “Anakin, not here! Someone could see us-”
“Yes, here,” he cuts you off, leaning in, his forehead pressed against yours, “I don’t care what anyone else thinks.”
“Ani-” You cut yourself off at the reprimanding look he gives you, correcting yourself, “Master, come on. Let’s just go to my quarters and forget-”
“I’ll say this once,” he replies, the intensity and heat in his voice almost too much to bear. Almost forcing you to look away, as if staring into the sun for a moment too long, “Apologize and I might consider kissing you, little one.”
You narrow your eyes, glaring up at him, “Who says I even want to kiss you-” You let out a cry of surprise when he grabs you by the hips to turn you around. Before you can say another word, he has your hands pinned over your head with his metal one, his flesh hand landing a hard smack against your ass, “Ouch! Anakin, what the kriff-”
“I said I might give you a kiss,” he taunts, “Never promised to actually give you one. What I did promise you was punishment for acting like a brat all day.” He lands another slap against your ass, your whine echoing through the hall, “Are you going to behave better now, padawan?”
“Oh, fuck you- OW!”
You can almost hear the grin on his face as he whispers in your ear, his free hand squeezing at your ass, tugging your robe so it falls to the floor, getting rid of one layer of the fabric that keeps the two of you apart.
“You act like a child, you get punished like one. I’ve got all night, little one.”
“Ani, stop being a jerk-” You whine as he tugs your training pants down to land a smack against your bare ass, your entire body trembling from the feeling, “Someone’s going to see!”
“I’m not Ani right now. You lost the privilege to call me that when you acted like a brat,” he chuckles darkly, “Apologize and I’ll stop, padawan. Come on. I’ll wait.”
Before you can even say another word, he lands another slap, admiring the way your ass jiggles at his touch, the way you barely hold back a moan of pleasure at the way he’s treating you. Anakin knows you better than you know yourself. Knows your needs. Knows when you’re acting like a brat because you want him to remind you who’s in charge here.
“No way, I didn’t do anything wrong!”
“Oh, but you did,” he replies, his voice a low rasp against your ear, breath hot against your skin, “It’s my duty to praise you when you’ve done well, but also punish you when you’ve done wrong. I’ve been too lenient with you, little one.”
Every smack comes down harder than the last, making you whine pathetically, though you can’t help rubbing your thighs together, the sensation of his calloused palm coming down against your flesh making you throb between your thighs. Force, you hope he can’t tell. You’ll never live this down.
“Master, stop,” you whine, earning a laugh from him.
“Apologize.”
Through gritted teeth, you mutter out a rather insincere, “Sorry.”
“Hm?” Anakin questions, turning you around to face him, a playful gleam in his eyes, “I didn’t quite hear you, kitten. Say it a bit louder.”
“I’m not saying it again!” You scowl, squirming in his grip, “Let go.”
“Oh, come on, little one,” Anakin chides. He stares down at you, head tilted to the side and a mocking little grin on his face, “I want to hear a real apology. That wasn’t good enough.”
“You’re a jerk, you know that?” You blurt out, “This is padawan mistreatment-”
His hand moves to your throat, squeezing slightly, just enough to remind you who it is that has the upper hand here, “You want to talk about padawan mistreatment? When you disobey my commands and go out of your way to put yourself in danger, do you think that’s acceptable?” He squeezes a little harder, your hand moving to rest on his wrist, your breath catching slightly at the oddly pleasurable sensation, “As your Master, I will punish you however I want. And if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re acting up because you want to be punished. Because you want me to remind you who it is you belong to, little one. Is that it?”
“No,” you insist, letting out a soft moan as he squeezes once more, releasing your throat, “Okay, maybe I was a little bratty, Master-”
“A little?” Anakin scoffs, tugging at the padawan braid that falls against your cheek, the slight pressure making you let out another noise of pleasure. His lips move to your neck, ghosting along your skin as he speaks in a husky voice, barely above a whisper, “I swear you just do this because you want me to punish you.”
“No…”
Anakin clicks his tongue, moving to cup your mound over the fabric of your pants, stroking you gently, two fingers pressing against you, watching as you squirm, “Really? Then why are you so wet if this wasn’t exactly what you wanted, kitten? Why are you trying to ride my hand like a desperate little slut, hm?”
“Ani-” You correct yourself, whimpering softly as he lands a slap between your thighs, “Master…”
His fingers move up, sliding under the fabric, tugging it downward so that your pants rest just above your knees. Anakin moves your panties aside, letting out a low groan as he feels how wet you are against his fingers. He pushes two inside you, watching your lips part, your head falling back against the wall as he begins to pump them in and out of you. His thumb rubs against your clit, fingers moving so fast that the pleasure is almost too intense, but you know if you say anything he’ll just be even more smug about it. As your eyes flutter shut, you feel the cool metal of his hand grasp your jaw, his voice a low whisper as he demands for you to keep your eyes on him.
“Want you to look into my eyes while I fuck your pretty little pussy with my fingers,” he all but snarls, his gaze burning into yours.
You’re so close to him, close enough to kiss, but you know he won’t give you that satisfaction. Your breath seeps into his breath, your body molding against his as he brings you to your peak, your cries of ecstasy echoing throughout the hall as white hot pleasure shoots through your entire body. All you want now is for Anakin to bury himself inside of you, to fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk tomorrow. But he just keeps pumping his fingers, now adding a third. You don’t realize that it isn’t actually his hand but rather he’s using the Force to pleasure you, until he cups your face, that damn smirk on his lips.
It’s so wrong, so forbidden what he’s doing. Using the Force to give you pleasure. Fucking his padawan. But the two of you don’t care. You stare up at him and he stares back at you, your eyes rolling back as you come undone once again.
For a moment, you’re terrified he won’t give you what you want, but when he moves to lower his pants slightly, tugging at his cock, the tip a red angry color, leaking precum, you know he’s about to take you.
Anakin pushes inside you with one slow thrust, bottoming out in you, just staying like that for a long moment. The feeling of having him inside of you, the tip of his cock pressed right up against your sweet spot, is almost enough to make you sob with need. Your arms remained pinned in place as his free hand grasps his lip and he begins to fuck into you like some sort of depraved, wild animal. His golden curls are matted to his forehead, blue eyes burning with desire as he presses a kiss to your neck.
“Almost lost you,” he whispers, his hips snapping against yours faster and faster, “Almost lost you.”
He takes out his anger at the situation on you in a way you can’t help but enjoy. You feel a hand around your throat, but see none, knowing he’s using the Force to apply this slight pressure. Reminding you that you belong to him.
His balls slap against you as he fucks you hard and fast, muttering beneath his breath, “If I fuck you enough, fill you up enough, get you pregnant so you can’t go off being a brat on these missions,” he hisses, gritting his teeth as you squeeze around him, “You’re going to look so pretty, little one, your stomach all round with my baby. You want that, don’t you? You want that with me, you little fucking brat?”
You nod, letting out a mewl of his name, “Yes, Master, I want that, I want you, please-”
“Then give me another one,” he rasps, thumb circling your clit, pressing down gently making you whimper, “Give me another one and say you’re sorry.”
You come on his cock, squealing his name, apologies tumbling forth from your lips as if you never had any reservations about saying sorry. Anakin gives one, two more thrusts before spilling himself inside you, the thought of you bearing his children being one that brings a pleasant shiver up and down his spine. 
His hands move to caress, forehead pressed to yours as he whispers, “Please don’t scare me like that ever again. I… When I saw them shooting-”
“I’m sorry, Ani, I promise. I’ll try not to be so reckless,” you promise, brushing your nose against him, “I’m not saying it’ll work all the time. But I’ll try.”
Anakin nods, pressing his lips to yours in a sweet, tender kiss, holding you so delicately that you wonder if he thinks you could break if he gripped you too hard, “Let’s go to bed, little one.” He takes your hand, pressing a kiss to the inside of your wrist, “Despite your reckless behavior, you really made me proud today. I love you. So much.”
“I love you too, Anakin. More than words could ever express.”
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springalwayscomes · 9 months
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Closer
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Closer (Teaser) Closer: Too Close (Teaser) Masterlist Taglist
Plot: To have each other close is something that you both always wanted, in a way or another. It’s just that… close is not close enough anymore for Jungkook.
Pairing: Jungkook x Reader
Genre: Fluff, Angst, Smut, Domestic, Humor, Friends to Lovers
Wordcount: 27k
Content Warning: mentions of masturbation, dirty talk, swearing, pining, minor injury, praise, cunnilingus, cum eating, unprotected sex, mentions of blowjob, masturbation, hand job, dry humping, multiple orgasms, love making, creampie 
Author’s Note: Hello! I had the first line of this fic stuck in my notes for a while, it stayed there without really going anywhere, then inspiration came and the miracle happened in a few days. I like this so much so I hope you will like it too! There are some parts that just do things to my heart, one of these is inspired by Gaelforce. I don’t know if you follow him but if you do you sure will realise when you’ll get there!
Let me know what you think about it, again I hope you’ll like it!💜
If you want to be tagged in my taglis to get notified when my other works will come out let me know here, under this post, with a message or an ask. Feel free to talk to me for whatever, I always appreciate your messages!🫶🏻💜
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Jungkook walked in on you using your vibrator as a microphone when you were nineteen, lipsynching as if your life depended on it. 
He had laughed so fucking loud that time that you still feel your ears grow red when you think about it. 
He has teased you for it from the moment it happened, still does it now.
Back then, it was so freaking hilarious he would bring it up every time you were too mad at him, to make you laugh it off and let go of the heavy atmosphere creating between you every time you used to fight as teenagers. 
Five years afterwards, as of now, he still thinks about it from time to time. It makes him giggle when he’s in the middle of a meeting at work, when he has a stressful day, when he’s just laying in bed with his head empty. Usually, that would be the case. Now that you’re sitting on his couch with a bag of pop corns squished in your hands while the tv is playing though, is a new circumstance. 
«What are you laughing at? You’re so loud» you wince at him, monotone and annoyed.
He licks his lips, shaking his head.
«Your vibrator still haunts me» 
It takes you less than two seconds to realise what he’s talking about. 
«You’re so annoying. Should I bring up the time you farted out loud in class too?»
«That’s not the same,» he laughs «I told you that I wasn’t feeling good but you insisted on going to class anyway»
«You didn’t go for three days straight-» you fight back, stopping yourself when the camera points on Park Seojun. 
«Gosh, this man. I’m gonna marry him someday» you sigh dreamily. Jungkook snorts.
«Cause I was sick?» he opens the fridge.
«You drank with Jin the night before. You shouldn’t drink if you’re sick. Maybe that’s why you couldn’t hold it until class was over»
«You’re so noisy» he rummages through the shelves, finally finding the bowl of strawberries he was looking for.
«Want some?»
You quickly glance at him over the counter, pop corns stuffing your mouth full.
«No, thanks. I’m full with these»
He gets a spoon from the drawer, walking back to the sofa. 
«The face you made when I walked in is still funnier than-»
«When you farted in front of the class?» you cut him off, trying to get some sense in his head.
«Hell, yeah» he laughs.
«You literally-»
«Okay, now stop!» you slap his ass before he gets a chance to sit down.
«Oh, yes keep going» he fakes a moan. You literally want to slap him hard enough to make him stop being an idiot, but you have to hold yourself back.
«Just shut up and let me see Park Seojun» you shake your head. Jungkook gets a spoonful of strawberries into his mouth, eyes falling on the screen and eyebrows pinched together.
It’s a Saturday, thanks God the both of you don’t work on weekends, so usually you both find yourself on the sofa, watching a movie or just messing around. You’ve known each other since you were sixteen, so to say that you’re pretty comfortable with each other is an understatement. Even when you first met him, the nineteen years old Jungkook never made you feel uneasy. You were inseparable. Best friends that used to sleep at each other’s place every three to four days because you were just used to it. It was natural, so natural that a lot of the people around you thought you were a couple. Back then, you would grimace and shake your head vividly, not even giving it a thought. Jungkook would laugh it off, heart beating loudly in his chest every time anyone made him imagine how it would’ve been. 
«Do you still have it?» he asks, voice low as he stares at the screen.
«What?» you murmur. He doesn’t answer, his spoon scraping against the plastic of the bowl to get as much strawberries as he can into his mouth. He munches on them, gulping down and enjoying the sweet taste.
«That vibrator» 
«Jungkook! What kind of question is that?» you stop the drama, his thigh getting hit by the remote.
«I was just asking!» he raises his hands as to make sure you understand he meant no harm, the bowl now sitting on his lap.
«Why would you ask that?» your tone makes his eyes smile first, as he always does. His eyes smile first, then his lips just follow.
«Why are you so sensitive about it? I won’t ask, but we both know you still use it» he gets up from the couch, getting to the sink to put the empty bawl inside. 
«We say filthier things when we’re in bed!» he goes on from where he’s standing at. Your head is going to explode. It’s at times like this that you rethink about your life choices. From being sixteen and dumb, until you’re twenty four and ending up with sleeping with your best friend. 
«In bed! Leave those for when we’re in bed!» you fight back, another pop corn getting shoved into your mouth.
«Okay,» he appears by your side «wanna go to bed so I can ask you?» 
You can’t believe him. 
«Jungkook!» he laughs, bright and out loud, crystal clear. It makes your insides twist and turn with the need of shutting him up.
It’s not like it’s a everyday thing, sleeping together. It just happened three times, out of the blue. You both agreed that it’s not something big, something that will change your bond or friendship, it’s just something that… you both needed? In those moments, you guess. Maybe mentally? However you try to justify it, the answer is always the same: nothing is going to change between you. It’s just sex. But for the sake of your relationship, you try to keep it where it belongs: in bed. Talking about such things outside can be confusing, it can lead your friendship too places you don’t want it to be. You love Jungkook, as your friend. Being too sexual won’t lead to good places, just a fucked up friendship and a fuckbuddy living with you.  So you both better keep your minds at bay, don’t pass the limits of friendship at least when you can.
«I’m going to get a shower» you announce, shutting the tv and getting up from the couch. His eyes are questioning, but you just tap his shoulder. 
«Put this away, please?» you hand the pop corns to Jungkook. He grabs the bag. 
«Why?» you’re already almost out of the living room when he asks.
«I’m going out tonight!» 
«With the girls?» he raises his voice a bit to make you hear him from the other room, as he looks for a peg in the drawer to close the popcorns.
«Yeah, it’s Eunji’s birthday!» you remind him. Jungkook winces, he knows what that means. You will come back home late, and you’ll end up being awake until morning cause you hate going to clubs and will feel like you have to make up for the six hours you lost in there. You still do it, for your friends, but it’s something that you don’t enjoy a lot. If you add the fact that you don’t actually drink, that makes it all even worse. 
«What about Jimin?» he’s out of your bedroom door, you can hear it from how close his voice sounds. Thank god he has a good sense of privacy, cause you’re naked. 
«They were together the whole day, tonight is girl’s night» you answer. Jungkook nods, telling himself he’s going to ask him to come over later.
«I’m taking a shower now!» you let him know the conversation is going to end, already walking to your bathroom.
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«She said it’s girls’ night, so» Jimin’s munching on a chicken’s wing with so much eagerness it looks like he hasn’t been eating for a week. 
Namjoon nods at him, getting a beer from the fridge. 
«You’ve been together the whole day, though» 
«I know» he answers, «what can I do if I want to spend every second with her?»
«I feel like I’m gonna throw up» Yoongi murmurs from beside him, giving him the most disgusted glance ever. Jungkook laughs.
«What have you all been up to lately?» 
Hoseok sits on the carpet, ready to start eating as he waits for the group’s answer. 
Jin shrugs.
«Just work. The restaurant is always full, I think I might die from overworking»
«Listen to him bragging» Taehyung pats his hyung’s shoulder.
«I’m not! It’s going well, but it’s fucking tiring! Last night I came home to Hana and…  nnghh, why am I so dumb?» he closes his eyes, breathing through his teeth. 
«What happened?» Jungkook asks.
«She’d kill me if she knew I told you this,» he gulps a big sip of beer down «you have to promise me it won’t slip out of your dead-ass mouths»
«When did we ever say-»
«That time?» Yoongi’s question gets cut off, Jin’s eyes big as they remind him of what happened last time.
«It wasn’t me! It was Tae!» 
«Yah, I didn’t do it on purpose» he fights, holding back a laughter.
«Alright, stop. Just don’t make it happen again» Seokjin gives him a fiery glance.
«She was like, really in the mood and… I told her I would take a shower and then go to bed with her but my muscles were so sore I decided to run a bath. I felt asleep. She waited up for me for a whole hour,» he takes a bite from the chicken «she was… god, what did I do? I was so tired I didn’t do it on purpose but she felt rejected or humiliated I guess… I’m such a-»
«Hyung, you were just tired» Jungkook stops his rant. Namjoon nods.
«You should talk to her»
«I didn’t get the chance, she left earlier this morning and didn’t answer my texts all day» he answers, eyes gloomy as he pours himself another glass of beer. 
«Wait for her up, she’ll come back after they are done with the club» Yoongi proposes. Jin nods.
«What about you?» he asks.
«I’m good» he smiles. A little too much, actually. It’s too bright, too much. 
«You’re good?» Hoseok smiles at him, already knowing that there’s something else. There has to be, with him smiling like that.
«Really good» he echoes. 
At this point, Jin hits his shoulder.
«Yah, give us the good stuff!» 
The music in the background fills the air as Yoongi ponders on how to explain what’s happening in his life at the moment, a big smile taking over his features. 
«I’m…» he smiles again «I’m going to be a dad» 
«What?!» it’s a scream that comes out loud, the same word coming from every single person present. The man nods, eyes teary. It makes Jungkook’s heart squeeze, to see his hyung so happy. The room is filled with happiness, as they all proceed to ask questions, hugs and congratulations getting shared. After all, he and Hyunjoo have been trying for the last year. The night is filled just like that, with jokes and laughs until Jin and Jimin decide that it’s time to go back home to wait for their girlfriends, the others deciding to stay until you will be back to say hello and goodbye to Jungkook. 
It’s when the bell rings that they know that something is definitely weird. The knock on the door too sounds eager for you, and when Jungkook gets up to open it what they hear right after makes their eyes shoot right open.
«Fuck, are you drunk? Who took you home? Why did you drink?»
«Leave me alone» you stutter as you try to walk inside, Jungkook’s arm getting to your waist. You can’t even stand, how much did you drink? 
«Who took you home?» to say he sounds worried sick is an understatement.
«Some guy with a really pretty dick» you laugh. Taehyung gets up, everyone following after him. They never saw you drunk, simply because you just don’t drink. You don’t like the taste of alcohol, can’t even gulp down a sip of beer properly without having to go brush your teeth, apart from the fact that you can’t hold it. Half of a glass is enough to make you the drunkest version of yourself; apparently now it’s not like that anymore.
«What?» the shock from seeing you like this makes Jungkook hold his words back, first he needs to make you sit somewhere.
«Grab a wet towel, or just… water, give me water!» he orders around. Someone gives him just what he asked for, and he doesnt even spend time in thanking them as he wipes the makeup off from your face. 
«Water» Yoongi gives him a glass.
«Why- you’re here! Hello!» you wave to your friends, Taehyung smiling at you. 
«My bestest friend! Tae, I missed you» you whine, grabby hands reach for his wrist, making him sit next to you.
«Yah! I’m your bestest friend!» Jungkook shakes his head.
«I missed you too» Taehyung scoffs, your head falling on his shoulder. Jungkook hisses, it’s harder to get your makeup off when half of your face is squashed like this.
«Why did you drink so much?» Taehyung tries.
«I was… feeling left out? I can’t remeber well» you murmur, chuckles coming out as you decide it’s time to mess with Jungkook. Every time he tries to wipe a part of your face, you just turn in the opposite direction.
«Will you stay still?» he shakes his head, annoyed.
«You’re a pain in the ass, Jungkook. I hate you»
«I think it’s better if you go home, she needs a shower» Jungkook turns to face Namjoon, Yoongi and Hoseok. They look pretty shocked, but worry is weighting down on them more.
«Are you sure? We can help you?» Hoseok tries, but he shakes his head again.
«It’s fine, I got this» 
«Don’t go! Why are you kicking them out! So annoying» you fight, holding Taehyung’s arm tighter.
«I’m not kicking them out, but you need to shower and get changed and they- just…» he turns again «Don’t worry, just go home and rest. I got this» he repeats.
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It’s 5.43 am. And it’s so frustrating that you’re laying by his side, sleeping, while his eyes are wide open. 
You might not feel good, so it’s better anyway, he tells himself.
Jungkook is annoyed. A lot, actually. Why, he doesn’t get it. Your words echo in his mind, making him bite on the inside of his cheek when he should be resting.
Did you sleep with someone? It very much sounded like it. A really pretty dick? He scoffs. The adjective sounds almost out of place, still he feels his insides burning even hotter. He wants to ask you right now, but you’re sleeping. Again, he should be too, actually. 
He decides it’s better if he sleeps on the sofa, you’re asleep anyway, so you won’t make a fuss about it. He lifts the covers, gently and slowly, then sits on the bed, a leg already out and his foot laying on the ground. The cold makes him wince.
«Don’t go» you hold his wrist, digits caressing his skin. 
«Stay with me,» you plead «I’m not feeling good» 
His defences fall down instantly. It’s hard not to succumb when you’re murmuring against him. He does it without you having to ask twice, his foot back under the warm covers.
«Hold me?» you ask. It’s low, sweet and sleepy, and he guesses you’re still drunk but he doesn’t care. His arms wrap around you and hold you close, your head lays on his chest as you would do after having sex. Jungkook holds his breath and swears to himself, he needs to slow down his heartbeat because it seems like his heart is going to combust. 
«I don’t hate you,» your voice is faint
«I’m sorry I told you I hate you, Kookie»
«It’s okay» he caresses your hair, trying to make you relax.
«Just get some sleep» he can’t hold himself back, not when you’re laying in his arms so defenceless and looking so frail and delicate. His lips land on your forehead, soft and gentle, incredibly caring. You don’t say anything though, you’re already asleep.
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«Alright, what is it?» Taehyung snaps at him, eyes fixed on the maknae. Jin nods, eyebrows high.
«Nothing» Jungkook shrugs, going back to stare at the screen. The movie isn’t playing, stopped by Taehyung. 
«It doesn’t seem like nothing» he answers back. 
Yoongi taps Jungkook’s shoulder.
«Tell it to Yoongi hyung?» he smiles. 
Jungkook scoffs. It’s something he used to tell him when he was younger, it would reassure him to know that there was someone older than him to relay on and to count on. Now, though, Yoongi can’t do anything about it.
«I’m your hyung too» Taehyung pats his other shoulder.
«Me too» Jimin adds.
«We’re all older, we got it» Namjoon looks at the two who are smiling wide at Jungkook.
«Talk to us? We could help» he prompts. 
«I just… I don’t know» he doesn’t know where to start from. He doesn’t even know why he’s feeling so bothered about it, it shouldn’t be such a big deal.
«I don’t know… why?»
«What? We can’t understand like this» the confusion is clear on Hoseok’s features.
Jungkook sighs, deep and shaky, head falling on the cushion of the couch.
«I’ve been sleeping with someone» he declares, bringing the back of his hand on his eyes. 
«What?» it’s Jimin and Jin, ready to ask why he didn’t tell them. Yoongi glares at them in a second, shutting them up before they even have the chance to start.
«And?» he coos.
«And- she… slept with someone else» he adds. It’s blurry, and the situation is not clear, but just seeing Jungkook like this makes all of them on the edge.
«Are you in a relationship? Or you just-»
«We’re not» he answers Namjoon.
«We’re not, but…» he doesn’t finish. 
He can’t believe himself. What the hell is this about? It’s not like you agreed on being exclusive, you didn’t even talk too much about what happened, it just happened, three fucking times. And god, how fucking good it was. The best sex he’s ever had. Fuck, he didn’t even think about someone else after sleeping with you. 
Maybe it wasn’t the smartest of choices since he’s been fighting against his feelings for six years, but until now they were pretty good. He dated, you dated, he kept them at bay and they didn’t get in the way. 
«You wish you were» Yoongi finishes his sentence.
Silence fills the air. Jungkook feels like he’s going to throw up. You wish you were, it’s the only thing playing in his head. He wishes you were. That’s the point, that’s the fucking point. He wishes you’d see in him what he’s been seeing in you for all these years, he wishes you’d crave his touch just like he craves yours, in the same way. He wishes you could share more than just a home and bills, friendship and bags of popcorns. He wishes for more, and fuck, he’s been so fucking stupid all along to think that a little taste couldn’t do too bad, to think that he could have at least that much.
«Have you talked to her?» Jin tries. Jungkook shakes his head, the back of his hand still pressed against his eyes.
«Why don’t you try?»
«Why would I? We’re friends»
«Fuckbuddies?» Jimin asks «How can you be-» Taehyung slaps him on the neck. A faint moan coming out of his friend’s lips.
«Shut up»
«No, friends. We’re friends» he slightly raises his voice on the last word, to make it clear. 
Yoongi’s eyes narrow.
«You mean you… you’ve been sleeping together but you’re friends?» 
«Isn’t it clear?» Jin looks at him like Yoongi has two heads, eyes trying to suggest something that no one gets. His head moves as to beckon him to something that’s right in front of him, Yoongi’s expression still clueless. Then, he gets it.
«Y/n! Is it Y/n? What the hell Jungkook!» he breaks out. Everyone’s eyes shot right open, Jungkook’s hand falling on his lap as he realises that there’s no way back. 
«When? Why?»
«It just… happened» he sighs, eyes closing again. 
«When?» Taehyung can’t believe what he’s hearing. 
«Four months ago,» he murmurs «the first time»
«How many times? Oh, my god» Jin wants to know everything, every little detail. Not sexually, it would be awkward since you’re his friend, but every thing he can, he has to know.
«Three» 
«Three?» He repeats.
«Three times,» Jungkook says again «I don’t know what to-»
«Is it because of the guy with the pretty dick?» Yoongi asks. Jungkook tilts his head, glaring at his hyung. 
«Okay, it is»
«Talk to her» Hoseok prompts but he only gets a big, steady shake of the maknae’s head.
«She was drunk. Do you know what you’re doing? Like, have you talked about it at least? Are you exclusive with each other?»
«We didn’t, and I guess we’re not» Jungkook answers Jin, not really in the mood for all of his questions.
«Jungkook, you have to-»
His phone rings, cutting Hoseok off. Your name comes up on the screen, everyone’s eyes and ears ready to steal information, Jungkook’s thumb stopping before hitting the green icon. He takes a deep breath, then answers. 
«What-»
«Jungkook, please help me» 
Something inside him snaps, worry filling every part of his being. Your voice is shaky, fragile. It sounds like you’re crying.
«What, what happened? Where are you?»
«At home,» you whimper «I’m in the tub. I slipped and, I can’t move. It hurts» 
«Fuck, wait I’ll be there in five minutes. Stay on the phone, don’t move. Please, don’t move, okay?» he’s already on the way to the door of Taehyung’s house, their eyes fixed on him in worry. He waves goodbye before closing the door, mouthing “emergency” at their inspecting eyes.
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«Fuck, are you okay?» 
To say he’s worried sick is an understatement. His eyes travel to every part of your body to make sure that you’re not hurt, until they reach your arms covering your chest. 
«Don’t look! Give me the bathrobe» you want to cry, you feel so embarrassed that you actually could. 
«Yes!» he passes it to you quickly, helping you as best as he can with his face turned to the side. He wants to tell you that it doesn’t matter if he sees you like this cause it already happened but he guesses you might feel embarrassed or just not at ease, so he shuts up and does what he has to. 
«It’s fine, I…» your voice trembles. You hold his wrist on the side of the tub, fingers cold and wet. 
«It’s fine, it’s alright. Ssshh, don’t cry» he kneels down, his arms wrapping around you and leading your head to his chest. 
«I’m not crying» you whisper, gulping down.
«You’re about to,» he caresses your hair «I’m here. I got you» he feels his throat tightening. He was so fucking worried he run two red lights while coming home, all the ones he met. 
«I always got you» he coos. 
For some reason, his words make you shake in his hold, a faint whimper coming out as you let the tears fall. The embarrassment and the stress about the situation, the pain of your ankle and his presence seem to mix together to combine into a perfect crying solution.
«You won’t tease me about this, right?» you mumble, voice muffled. Jungkook’s heart feels slightly reassured at your words, a weak smile gracing his lips.
«I won’t, baby. I promise» he whispers.
Your faint sobs fill the air, and he feels like his poor heart will break only by listening. His fingertips dig into your bathrobe so much it’s like you feel them on your skin, his other hand caresses your hair, his breath shaky. 
He waits for your weeps to summer down and stays like this a little longer, his presence reassuring and his touch relaxing you.
«Let’s get you out of here, okay?» he asks. You nod. He’s gentle when he parts his arms from around you, gentle when he tells you to relax, gentle when he smiles at you, soothing. 
«Where does it hurt?» 
«My ankle» you let him know. His eyes travel down, hands getting wet in the water as he lightly feels both of them. 
«There» you hold back your breath, the pain makes you grimace.
«Okay, just… can you get up? Just lean on me and don’t put weight on your right leg. Lean on me» he instructs. You follow his words and try to get up as best as you can, leaning your weight on him and keeping your ankle up. Jungkook helps you out of the bathtub, his hands coming to your back and the back of your legs to pick you up. He makes sure not to hurt your ankle with any movement, eyes on your face to check in with you without having to ask.
The path to your bedroom is silent, he lays you on your bed and tells you he will change the sheets himself afterwards because of the wet bathrobe. 
«I think you need a pillow, you need to keep your ankle up» he works diligently, worry guiding him until he realises you’re set. On the bed, with the pillow underneath your ankle, comfortable, kind of.
«Do you want ice? Wait, I’ll get it with something to drink» he lets you know. He vanishes out of your bedroom and into the kitchen to get a glass of water and the ice, then goes back to the bathroom to get a towel to wrap around it so it isn’t too cold.
When he comes back, he smiles at you.
«You need to drink at least a bit» he hands you the glass. He sits next to you, looks as you gulp down the entire glass with a proud smile, his hand reaching out to take the glass back and put it on your nightstand. You stay with your mouth closed, still too embarrassed to say anything.
He puts the ice on your ankle, careful not to hurt you more than what you’re hurting already. It’s an instinct he doesn’t think of or can fight back, when he strokes your hair tenderly. It makes you gulp, heart swelling in your chest. 
«I was so fucking scared» he admits, low and shaky, almost a whisper.
«I’m sorry» you really are. He was enjoying his night with your friends after a hard week of work, and you called him and made him come all the way home, worried and-
«It’s okay, don’t worry» he smiles.
«But we should go to the hospital, your ankle is a bit swollen and-»
«Not now, please» you refuse.
«Y/n, you really should»
«I know,» you nod «just please not now? In a bit» 
Jungkook sighs, but he nods. He keeps the ice on your ankle, eyes on your face to check if he’s hurting you in any way to the point you feel your ears burn. 
«Come here?» you ask, patting beside you. He raises his eyebrows, looking at your hand on the mattress. 
«Please?» you ask sweetly. 
«The ice» he says. You shake your head.
«Just for a little, please» you gulp your beating heart down. You want him close, closer and closer. You don’t know why, but you want him so close it’s getting hard to breathe.
Jungkook can’t say no to you, not when you’re in your most fragile state, telling him to lay beside you. He puts the ice on the nightstand, next to the empty glass. 
When he lays on his side, his eyes instantly fall on your face, a bit of worry still painting his features.
Your hands move on their own, reaching his and bringing them around you. 
The atmosphere is dreamy like, a pinkish feeling invading Jungkook’s chest as he stares at you, his arms squeezing you and your eyes getting lost in his. It’s odd, how you can feel you heart pulsate, the sound echoes in your ears until they become numb. His hold seems to calm your racing mind a bit and you find yourself craving for something you can’t really touch, get a grasp of.
«Jungkook» you call. 
«Mmh?» 
«I want you» 
Jungkook feels like a leaf about to fall. Swept away by the wind, scared to fall but what if the fall is so sweet, so gentle? What if he can’t say no? He wants you just as bad as he wants you to want him. He wants you sweetly, he wants you lovingly. He wants you. Every part, every shiver, every fear and every night. Every fucking night. If he can’t have that, he’ll have to settle for this at least. He can’t say no to your love. And now that he realises, he thinks, this is the last time. The first time loving you and the last. 
«Fuck, come» he holds you tighter.
«Come into my arms» as if you weren’t already. He stays like that, seconds passing by and his breath getting rougher, he tries to  slow down his heartbeat but it’s to no use, you probably can feel it even through your bathrobe and his clothes. He wonders what are you thinking, if you want him as bad as he wants you at least sexually. It makes him breathless, how much he wishes you were his.
«I need-» he gulps «I need you close»
His body moves on top of yours, his legs in the middle of your thighs, eyes glancing at your ankle to make sure he doesn’t hurt you with his movements. It kills you, how he takes his shirt off and the light of your room kisses every single inch of his abdomen. His beautiful skin, the muscles flexing as he removes the cloth, his brownish nipples hard at the cold hair. You want to lick it, every part of him. You want to touch it, chase every ripple with your fingertips. 
«Can I take this off?» he asks. 
When you meet his gaze his eyes are made of something you’ve never seen. It’s not want or need, you’ve seen those already the other times you had sex, it’s just something else that you can’t quite grasp; you don’t focus on it too much, nodding your head and reaching you hands for the knot of the bathrobe. 
«Wait, let me» his fingers graze yours. You stop your ministrations, watching as he unties the knot, slow. There’s something. There’s definitely something. When he took your clothes off the last time, there was eagerness in his motions. There was need.
He was scared, of course he was. You guess that now he’s just glad you’re okay and trying to not hurt you in any way. You’re glad. Glad that he takes such good care of you, glad to have him as your friend. 
«Thank you» you smile. Jungkook feels his heart clench. He wishes your relationship wouldn’t be like this, for you not to thank him with that smile so uninvolved, so clear. 
He nods, hands getting by your sides to not put any weight on you.
«Keep your ankle up, please. Don’t wanna hurt you» he says. You nod, again.
His bicep flexes as he puts his weight only on his left arm, his fingers of the other caressing your clavicle. He sees the shivers on your skin as he travels lower, grabbing the edge of the bathrobe to reveal your chest. He wants to squeeze you, squeeze you so tight you don’t have any space left between you, hearts beating against each other. 
Your skin glistens, and he can’t hold himself back anymore. He raises on his calves, opens your robe so that every part of you is revealed, takes off his pants and his socks. His cock is hard, so fucking hard he’s afraid he’ll come just by the sight of you, but he wants to hold back. He has to, cause he wants to do this right, in the right way. He wants to love you even if you don’t notice it, at least for once. 
«Sit up for me, princess» his tone is like honey, and you do as he says without complaining. The pet name leaves a weird taste in your ears, you’re not used to it.
He helps you out of the bathrobe, finally having you naked on the bed. So pretty, so exposed just for him. Something inside him doesn’t set right, though. 
«Hold tight onto me» 
You’re in his arms, getting up from the bed and out of your bedroom. You wander what the hell is he doing until you get to his bedroom, confusion invading your features.
«Why?» 
He lays you on his bed, getting a pillow again so that you can keep your ankle elevated.
He looks down at you from the end of the bad, cock twitching and eyes fixed into yours. He wonders if it was too much of a bold move, but he guesses you wouldn’t see anything behind it. 
«Want you in my bed» he simply answers, transparent and straight to the point, his dark doe eyes drinking yours in. 
You just nod a little astonished. 
Of all the times you had sex, it was always in your bed. Never in his. Never your perfume stayed on his sheets, never he got to swim in the illusion of having at least a little more to keep to himself, just for him. A part of you to keep, to protect in a world that isn’t yours. 
He takes his boxers off, and god you wish he could be faster cause you think your eagerness will make you lose your mind. You want him deep inside you, close as soon as possible.
«Open your legs for me?» he coos. He looks at you from the edge of the bed, still standing. Your eyes travel all the way from his face to his cock, it stands straight up to his belly button, the tip red and angry, veins displayed. If you’re not seeing wrong, there’s a bit of precum leaking out from his tip, but maybe it’s just the light playing with your eyesight. 
You do as he says, opening your legs as much as you can for him to see, careful with your ankle. He bites down on his lips, his hand getting to the base of his cock and wrapping around it, just squeezing it.
«I love your pussy» he breathes out. The way he sounds makes you clench around nothing and when you see his hand stroke up and down his needy cock your mouth opens in awe. 
«I’m obsessed, want it every day» 
You squeeze your thighs together, how can he speak so filthy but sound so angelic?
«That can’t happen» you warn him. 
Jungkook nods.
«I know» he answers. It kills him. It fucking kills him, to have a taste and then having to let go of it. 
He gets to the bed, kneeling in front of you, his eyes on your face. 
«I want you on my tongue» 
Your yearning is making you crazy, you’re so wet you’re practically dripping by now.
«Please, Jungkook» 
It sounds so good, to hear you say his name like that. In such a filthy way, totally unfiltered. 
«Gonna give my baby what she needs»
His hands touch your thighs, he gropes your skin with his digits, so soft it makes him want to fucking lose himself and get lost just in the desire. His sentence makes you wetter, but your heart beats louder for some type of reason. 
«Please» you plead again. 
«I got you» he reassure you, he lays down on your body, face close to yours. His lips are close, so close you think he’s going to kiss you but he just lays a kiss on the corner of your mouth. 
«I always got you» he whispers, his eyes looking into yours. His hand caresses your cheek, something that adds too much to this, to you, to the both of you. It leaves you wordless, shaking.
A second later, he’s back between your legs,  his hands grabbing your thighs in the gentlest way he ever did. 
«So beautiful» he murmurs to himself as he looks at your pussy juices leaking out. It’s so fucking inviting that he can’t hold back anymore. His mouth lands on your clit, so soft and pillowy, he kisses it. A strangled moan comes out of your mouth, and he lays another, and another. His tongue starts to glide between your lips, up and down he gathers your juices and then sucks onto your clit, your back arching on the bed.
«Oh, fuck» you moan. It makes him eager. Eager for more, eager for you, ciclo by fervent. He wants it all.
He sucks on your clit again, harder and for a time that seems endless, the pleasure that takes over you is tingling and consuming and your mouth opens again in a silent moan. He lets it go with a popping sound, he blows on it, kisses it again, sucks again as his tongue plays with it. Your hands reach his hair, they tug at the strands as you moan out loud. It’s so good, so good you’re not going to last long.
«So good» your hips shoot up, whines come out of your mouth.
He feels drunk, lost in the taste of you.
«Yeah?» he coos. His tongue rubs your clit deliciously, the pattern changing from up and down to side to side and circles, it makes you lose your mind. 
«What if I do this? Take all of you in my mouth?» 
It’s unreal, how good he can make you feel. He takes you all in his mouth, from your clit to your hole, sucking on every part he manages to get, then sucks on your lips. His hands move on your stomach, eyes on your face as he grabs your breasts in his palms. He squeezes them softly, fingers rubbing your nipples, filthy wet sounds filling the air. It’s embarrassing, the amount of wetness through your folds, how your juices keep leaking out at just a look at him. You don’t think you can hold back. Not when he’s sucking on your clit again, his fingers grazing your nipples as he moans on it in his mouth. He doesn’t think he can get any other pussy, after yours. It’s too good, it’s perfect. Just perfect.
«Gonna- Jungkook» you shiver.
«Tell me, talk to me, baby» he moans on your pussy, his tongue poking at your hole. 
«Fuck, I think I’m going to- cum» 
His tongue feels so good inside you, your walls tight around it and your juices wetting all of his chin. He wants your wetness everywhere, on his chest, on his thighs, on his fucking bed. 
«Please, let me see» he begs. 
«Cum for me» 
One of his hands come down, his fingers rubbing your clit. You don’t have the time nor the voice to tell him that you’re going to, cause god, it feels so fucking good you don’t even know how to speak anymore. You just see him, his eyes staring at you from between your legs, nose brushing against your folds, his tongue deep inside you. Your legs shake, your breathing is rough.
«Cum for me, angel» 
And you do. You cum so fucking hard, you don’t even realise what is happening, how your juices flow out and drip onto his sheets,  how Jungkook presses down onto the mattress to get some sort of friction, how he gulps down your juices as if they were the tastiest thing he ever drank. 
He kisses your clit, your lips, every part of your pussy he can get a taste of, your inner thighs.
«Fuck, I only want your pussy» he moans, the fingers that left your aching clit now wrapping around his thickness, your juices on his cock make his skin glossy. You’re such in a haze that yes, you nod.
«Fuck, yes» you sigh. Jungkook can’t take his eyes off of you, he simply can’t. You’re so beautiful, so pretty when you’re so vulnerable and exposed for him that you make him helpless, totally fragile.
«You’re so beautiful, so pretty when you cum» his voice makes you open your eyes, finding him still between your legs. 
«Come here» you struggle to let your voice out. 
«Want you close» 
His heart shakes. 
«Tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you» he breathes out, laying on top of you. His voice is shaky and you feel his hands travel from your thighs to your stomach, then to your chest. They reach your shoulders, one of them cups your cheek, his eyes study every part of your face. He looks at the flush of your cheeks, how they turned to a reddish tone, your lips swollen from your teeth biting at them, your hair messy all over his pillows. In his bed, his at least for now.
«I want you, only want you» you whine. 
«You have me» he wishes you could notice, that you’d realise, look at him and mean your words just how he means them. He just rubs his cock against your folds, though.
«Right here» he moans. Cock rock hard, so fucking ready for you. 
«Please» you just keep pleading, you can’t hold back. You don’t even care if you just came and your pussy needs time to recover from the tremendous orgasm you just had, you just want him inside you. 
His cockhead brushes against your clit, a strangled moan coming out from both of your throats, your eyes focusing on his just to see that’s they were already there. Jungkook smiles at you so softly as his cockhead finds your hole and pushes in that it feels too much. Too much affection, to much loving. Too lovingly. It makes your insides twist and turn, and you wonder what the fuck is going on, but you don’t have time to voice your feelings cause a second later his cock is deep inside you, filling you up to the brim.
You just shut your mouth, take everything he has to give. You want it all, you don’t care.
«Fucking perfect» he whines. His cock never felt so good, your walls squeeze him perfectly, your pussy so wet he can feel your juices already pour down to his balls.
«Wrap around me,» he moans faintly «please»
Your legs move on their own, the pain of your ankle shooting up to your leg. You grimace, eyes squeezed shut.
«Careful with your leg» the worry makes him still.
«Lay it on the pillow, up» he whispers, his hand reaching your calf to guide it back down. 
«Like this» he kisses your temple. You sigh when you feel the softness of the pillow and your weight supported, the pain untying a bit.
«Does it hurt?» his words soothe you and you open your eyes to look at his face. You shake your head.
«It was just for the movement. It’s going away now» you answer. Jungkook nods, his fingers brush away a little strand of hair that’s keeping your beautiful face away from him.
«Like this it’s good, is it okay for you?» he asks. His hand holds your hip, your leg wrapped around him, the other on the cushion and Jungkook’s cock buried deep inside you still. You can feel it throb even when it’s still, you wonder how is it possible that he’s holding himself back so much.
«It’s perfect» you whisper. His eyes, smile first, as they always do. His smile comes right after, and you don’t know if it’s the atmosphere or your vulnerability for everything that happened but it makes your heart swell. You want him around you, you want him everywhere, all over you, inside of you.
He looks down at you, moves his pelvis back and then forward again, you wrap your leg tighter around his waist. Your arms come around him, his passes under your back as the other stays on your hip, his cock rutting inside you makes you whimper. He kisses your neck, sucks on your skin, moans in your ears. 
«Love it so much,» he shivers, eyes closing from the pleasure «getting to have you like this» 
«Feels so good, Kook» you whine.
Jungkook fucks into you slow, but his motions are firm and he knows exactly where your buttons are. Apparently, it didn’t take much for him to learn, it seems like he knew them all along, from the first time. 
«Yeah?» he coos, his digits dig into your skin.
«Yes» you moan out loud, only guiding him closer. His cock is perfect. You love it, could never imagine a better dick. 
«Tell me, baby. Wanna hear you» he doesn’t stop, only squeezes you tighter. Your breasts against his hard chest, your nipples brushing against his skin, every curve of your body against his.
«Your cock is so perfect» you tell him. He wants to look down to where he’s inside of you but doesn’t want to miss a single thing, not even a crumb of the pleasure taking up your features.
«I love it so much, the best cock ever» your voice is muffled and your fist comes out from behind his neck to press against your lips as you speak. 
«Please don’t» he whines, looking down at you. 
«Wanna hear you, don’t hold back» 
Your fist goes away. Your fingers dig into his skin again, surrendering to his request and letting your voice come out free. 
Jungkook makes love to you. It’s so sweet and so slow but so good that you’re lost. Lost in him, lost in the feeling and the pleasure. 
«Keep your leg up» he instructs, letting your hip out of his grasp. He kisses your nose, his hand travels between your legs, his middle finger on your clit. 
«Oh, Jungkook, fuck» you wail, the pleasure adding up. He moves his finger in circles, up and down, from side to side, just like he did with his tongue before. It makes him jerk inside you, throb with every thrust, bite down on his lips as he looks at your face and feel your walls clench around him. Your mouth opens, eyes looking at him through your lashes, pillowy lips ready to be kissed. 
«I want to make you feel so good,» he groans, «want you to think about this when you’re alone» he moans. 
«I want you to give it to me, all to me. Mine» he whispers onto your lips, breath hot on your face.
«All mine» 
«Fuck, yes»
Your walls are so tight, pulsating so hard. 
His finger keeps rubbing your clit, he moans when he brings it a bit lower, feeling his cock pounding inside your pussy, your pussylips spread around him, your wetness gathering at the base of his cock. His balls slap on your ass, the sounds filthy and wet, so incredibly wet.
«I’m going to- yes, feels so good» you breathe hard, his finger back on your clit rubbing faster. Your legs shake and you feel his cock dripping precum in your cunt, all of his length pulsating. 
«I want you to look at me when you cum,» he pleads, tone shaky «please look at me» he whines. If you weren’t on the edge already, you think you would probably be just by the way he sounds. He’s so sexy you think you won’t ever be able to get over this. You’re going to think about this for sure, hell if you’re going to.
«Kook, I- I…»
«Ssh, let go. Just let go and look at me» he coos sweetly. He’s holding back, he’s trying so fucking much to hold back that his cock is over sensitive and he doesn’t think he will last much longer. Your walls squeeze him perfectly, so fucking soft and warm around him, so wet, so beautiful. 
«Give it to me, love» he doesn’t notice, not until he says it. It just slips out, naturally. You don’t say anything, head burying deeper in his pillow and your walls tightening around him.
You come all over his cock. Your juices make it harder for him to control his pace as you contract sp tightly all over him, his cock still moving inside of you, your arms wrapped around him. You’re trembling but you still find the strength to cup his cheeks, eyes looking at him for all the time just like he asked you to. You watch him as he moans, fucking into you with the same pace, his cock so hard. One of your hands travel down, between your bodies and down to his cock, his tight balls in your hand. You cup them, massage them a little. Jungkook’s features grimace, a loud whiny moan filling the air as your fingers on his cheek caress his skin.
«So beautiful. Cum for me, please» you plead. His heart beats so loud it’s going to explode, and a second later he’s shooting his cum right deep inside of you, hot, thick and long spurts of cum filling you up to the brim. His lips touch yours, as he keeps cuming. They brush against each other and a second later he’s succumbing to them, moaning into your mouth as his hips fuck his cum into your pussy, your leg still keeping him close and you fingers on his cheek. 
The kiss is slow and not really controlled, his tongue touches yours and brushes it, your lips eager for each other but moving slowly. It kills him, the way you wrap your arm around him to bring him closer as if he wasn’t all shattered into pieces already. 
You kiss for long, he still fucks himself into you slowly even after coming down from his high, your body still tight to him. When you part, you feel your chest on fire. His eyes look glossy, his lips red and wet, his baby hair sticking to his forehead. His movements stop, the last trace of a kiss on your clavicle right where it all started, and then he comes out of you. He lays beside you, eyes staring at your face. Silence fills the air, your breaths the only thing audible.
«Kook» you call.
«Yes?» he hums.
«I need another shower» you laugh.
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The atmosphere is odd. It’s thick. You want to go out of your bedroom and ask him what is going on exactly but for some type of reason, you’re holding back. There’s just something in the air.
Last week has been weird. 
You would come home when Jungkook was already there to find the dinner on the table, covered with a plate so it wouldn’t get cold, some days with a post it. 
I already ate, I’m going to bed, I’m a little tired.
I’m going out, but I cooked you dinner. Rest well.
Work was hard today, I’m going to sleep.
Since the two years you’ve been living together, you’ve always made sure that the one coming home later had something to eat, without having to cook when you’re both too tired. You do it for him too, when he comes home late. That’s what you did on Thursday and Friday, but when he came home you weren’t expecting him to literally eat and go to bed after putting his dish in the sink. 
The dinner was odd too, he made small talk, but there was something that didn’t feel right, as if it was a bit awkward. When you both stayed home on the weekend your friends filled the place on Saturday, and on Sunday, he just spent the day in his bedroom beside coming out to make lunch and dinner together.
You knocked on his door once or twice, asked him if he wanted to watch a movie or just chill together, but he said he was tired.
Something is off. Maybe he’s really tired, at dinner today he mentioned that work has been hard lately. 
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You start to wonder if you should be worried. If Jungkook is stressed and needs someone to talk too, if you’re being just a shitty friend and shouldn’t give him all this space, if you should grab him by the shoulders and tell him to talk to you about what is going on. He doesn’t seem to have closed up with your friends though, on five days he spent three evenings at their place this week. Maybe it’s just you seeing things.
You should talk to him, cause you’re worried, and you miss him. You miss your friend.
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«Jimin’s on his way too» Eunji announces, grabbing a pile of glasses. She places one for each of you on the table, then takes a look around.
«I think everything’s set?»
You nod, Hana and Jin appearing by your side with the side dishes. 
«Let’s put them on the table» Jin grabs six of them all together.
«Yah, don’t order us around. This is my house, not your restaurant» Yoongi slaps his hyung on the ass, his friend glaring at him. Hyunjoo shakes his head at the scene in front of her, her belly has just started to grow, three months into pregnancy. She looks so beautiful and happy that your heart throbs in happiness.
«Where are Namjoon and Jungkook?» she asks. 
«Namjoon will be here in ten» Hoseok answers.
«I’ll call Jungkook» you announce.
You’re about to go to get your purse, but the door rings, so you wander towards it. Jungkook stands behind it, soft hair reaching almost his shoulders, his bangs framing his pretty face. His eyes stare directly into yours, eyebrows cocked. 
«Oh, you’re here?» he asks, as if he wasn’t expecting it. He stays still on the doorway, hands by his sides. 
«Yes?» you smile as best as you can, not really knowing what to do.
«Everyone is here» you remind him. Jungkook nods eagerly.
«I know» he nods again. You move to the side to let him in. 
«I was about to call you» you say. He takes his coat off, hanging it with the others.
«I was stuck in traffic,» he shrugs «I thought it was the same for you, since you worked late too today» 
«Oh, no. I left earlier» he nods. And then, it’s silent again. You just stare at each other.
He doesn’t know. How to do this properly, how to go back to who he was, the friend you had before he realised it was too much to hold back. Every time he looks at you, it’s too much. He feels like you’re taking all the oxygen, leaving him with the smallest amount and not able to breathe properly. He tried. He really tried. He told himself that yes, it can be fixed. He repeats it to himself everyday, but something just makes him stop. He’s too… he guesses he just needs space. To get over you, to learn how to look at you differently, just like before he knew, when he was younger. Maybe he won’t ever be able to go back at that point, but at least to when it was bearable to look at you from afar and just have a small part of you? 
«Jungkookah!» Teahyung yells from the kitchen. Yoongi peeks out from the living room, he smiles brightly at his youngest friend, his arm wrapping around his shoulders. 
«Leave him alone, he just got here» he yells back at Taehyung. In a bunch of minutes, everyone is gathered in the living room, sitting on the carpet and ready to have dinner. It’s been a while since you all gathered to have dinner together, and the atmosphere is light. Everyone is laughing at something, new jokes being made and happiness shared. It makes you appreciate what you have, how every single person in this room means something to you, something beautiful. You’re lucky, very so.
But as you go on, you can’t help but go back to your old habits. Searching for Jungkook’s smile in the midst of the laughters, look for his eyes when you start to talk about something that happened to you during the day. You find him nodding at someone, eyes going back to his dish when you speak. And you can’t help but feel in the wrong. He’s mad at you, maybe you did something to make him upset, something that apparently is very much important to him. This has to be the reason why.
You realise how much you value him. His thoughts, his words, the way he makes you feel like there’s someone you can lean on, someone who’s got you. You realise how easy it is to enjoy his company, to feel happy thanks to him, to feel loved. And how cold it is without him, lost. 
You’ve always been inseparable, since you were sixteen and he was nineteen. Your pieces fixed together so perfectly that you didn’t have to worry about fighting with each other, cause you both knew that nothing was going to change between you. You went through so many things together that you can’t even remember all of them clearly now. He’s your safe place. And even though you know that this is perfectly fixable and actually nothing too dramatic, you just feel lost without his complicity. 
«Y/n?» Hyunjoo shakes his hand in front of your face, her striking smile brings you out of your thoughts. You nod.
«Oh, yes I’m listening»
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«You don’t know what you’re doing» Namjoon’s hand falls on Jungkook’s thigh, lightly slapping it. He shrinks on his side of the sofa, eyes shutting down.
«I know» he whines.
«That’s at least something» the hyung scoffs. 
«Did you talk?»
«No» he lets out. If it wasn’t already clear enough, Jungkook is in very much need of advices.
«We just…»
«What?»
«We don’t speak-» he stops to gulp «like we used to»
Namjoon can’t believe what he’s hearing. 
«What? Why?»
«Cause we simply don’t, it’s complicated»
«It really isn’t» he fights back, slapping his hand on his thigh for a second time.
«Why?»
Jungkook sighs. 
«I just… I think I need time to- get over her or whatever this is, I-»
«You have to talk to her, Jungkook,» he shakes his head, unbelievable «if you don’t, she’ll think there’s something wrong. You have to be clear and-»
«I can’t» he bites down on his lips, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hands. Sleep is getting to him and the fact that tonight he didn’t sleep well makes it even worse.
«I can’t tell her»
«It’s worse if you don’t! Your friendship is not going to be fixed magically» 
«That’s the reason why I need time» he blubbers. 
«And the reason why she’s looking so gloomy» Namjoon’s response dejects him even more.
«I know I’m being a dick,» he stares down at his feet in the slippers «but I can’t lose her»
Silence is the answer that accompanies him. The cheers coming from inside the room sound muffled, the light of the moon softly grazing his skin. Just the thought of you not by his side sends a shiver of fear through his spine. He doesn’t want to get to know what it is like to be without you, he can’t.
«Don’t you think that maybe a part of her… at least a small one-»
«No,» his voice is faint «not a small one, not even a bit» 
It stings. So fucking much, it burns. 
Namjoon sees it clearly, the pain written all over his features. To be truthful, he’s always noticed it, even when Jungkook didn’t know. He saw the way he looked at you, his smile when someone mentioned you, the way he would talk about you or what happened to you the day before, the way you made him laugh while doing the dishes, how he was ready to put you first, even before him. It actually makes it hard for him to understand, how it took all this time for Jungkook to realise. 
«Even when you were- like intimate?» 
Jungkook’s eyes shoot right to his hyung’s face. He always tries not to think about that, for as much as he can. Even though, some nights your hands on his skin haunt him, your moans in his ears, your taste on his lips.
«I don’t think so» 
«Did you kiss? Like, or I don’t know, was like- two friends having sex or- what was it like?» 
Jungkook wishes he didn’t ask. Cause bringing the thought of you looking so vulnerable and ready for him in his arms sends back feelings he tried so hard to hold back in the last two weeks. 
«It was…» he takes a deep breath, letting the air out from his mouth.
«Consuming» his breath gets stuck in his throat.
«We were just…» he shakes his head «it wouldn’t be the same for her. I loved it in a different way»
«Maybe,» Namjoon pats his shoulder gently «but how was she? Like, was she like the 
Y/n you always hang out with? Like- you know, how awkward it can be when two friends fuck, come on» he chuckles lightly, not really wanting to be explicit about the two of his best friends.
«She was sweet. Like, so sweet. The last time, she…» he closes his eyes, munching on his lips. The scene playing in his mind leaves him in agony, it’s pure torture to remember you in such a crude state, all for him.
«She was in pain. When she called and we were at Taehyung’s place-»
«That night?» Namjoon’s eyes shoot wide open, mouth hanging as the youngest nods.
«She was in pain, she hurt her ankle. But the way she looked at me, kept me close… the way she opened up to me just- it kills me to remember her in that way» he sniffs. His eyes are glossy. He wishes there would be a better way, an answer written somewhere, a safe recipe to follow. 
His friend understands that he can’t ask more. Jungkook is in pain. And he wishes he could do something about it, even though he knows he can’t. So he just hugs him, his hand patting the youngest head to comfort him at least a bit. 
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«Jungkook!» you yell from your living room. You’re tired. It’s becoming too much, and you need to talk, right now. 
You don’t hear any answer, so you stride to his room. The knock on his door makes him grimace, eyes staring directly at it.
«Come out,» you stare at the white wood, arms crossed in front of you «please» you add, voice softening.
He lets go of his clothes, laying the folded pieces on the bed more carefully than the others. 
«I cooked you dinner, I left a post it» the door opens, revealing him in all his height, hair still a bit wet from the shower. The black hoodie he’s wearing makes him look smaller and it involuntarily warms your heart a bit.
«You said you were going to sleep» you murmur.
«I am» he says.
«You’re not,» you shake your head «you’re mad at me. Did I do something wrong? Please, just tell me, it’s killing me» 
Jungkook stares at you blankly. His eyes scan your features for what seems to be an hour. He shakes his head slowly, guilt takes over him, the displeasure clear on his face. He softens, a step towards you and all of his defences fall down.
«I’m not mad at you» he’s sweet, voice covered in honey. 
«You aren’t?» your arms fall at your sides.
«You’re mad. There’s something off, you’ve been ignoring me for the last two weeks»
«I-» he cuts himself off, closes his eyes for a second. 
«I wasn’t… I…»
«Please, just talk to me» you plead. You can’t stand this atmosphere, not with him.
Jungkook shakes his head, his arms wrap around you in a tight embrace, it’s all he can do.
«I’m sorry. It’s just that work has been rough and I’m all over the place, just- I’m sorry» 
The knot in his throat is getting thicker, but he can’t say more. He knows he’s been a dick, a total idiot.
«You say that but I…» you shake your head on his shoulder, your arms move around him and you feel him sniff. 
«I promise there’s nothing wrong» he whispers, he moves his hand up and down on your back to soothe you, the other keeps you close.
«I’m sorry» 
«Talk to me» 
His hair tickle your skin, the itch makes you rub your face on his shoulder to tone it down and his hand fists the cloth of your shirt.
«If you feel like you need to vent or just… anything» your back shakes, and he knows you’re about to cry. Tears don’t fall though, you try as best as you can to not make your sensibility take over you even though your eyes are burning.
«Ssh, don’t cry, please» he sounds pleading, voice faint and shaky. It’s killing him for real, to not open up to the person he loves the most, you’re his best friend, his person. And he just wishes so much his feelings never showed up, that he didn’t look at you so differently from the way you look at him. 
«I will. I will, I promise» he blows. 
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The atmosphere in your house feels light. It’s back to normal, with Jungkook walking around the place on a Thursday night, his voice echos in the kitchen as he wipes the floor, one of the songs he’s been listening to lately getting sung over and over again. 
«Jungkook, you need to see this» you call from the sofa. His eyes travel to where you are, the light of the kitchen shines stars in his irises and the beanie he’s wearing makes him look so cute. He leaves the broom carefully balanced on the side of the counter, his feet tiptoeing towards your spot. He squats down, eyes squinting at your phone.
«Woah!» his excitement makes you giggle as his hands zooms in the picture. 
«It’s our niece? I need to call Yoongi hyung! Did he send it to you?» 
You nod, a big smile on your face.
«Wait, how do you know it’s a girl?» 
Jungkook shakes his head.
«I can feel it» he beams.
«Where is my phone?» 
«I think you left it on the sink» you answer. He nods eagerly, getting back up. The way he hops all the way to the sink makes your turn and laugh, he’s so dorky you want to slap his cute little ass. 
«Fuck, I stepped on the dirt!» he whines, stopping right away. You laugh even harder, hands grabbing your stomach as he huffs and gets his phone. He comes back to the couch, falling on it with a thud and raising his feet on his knee. 
«Don’t do it here!» you scold, still laughing. He simply giggles, wagging his toes at you.
«Clean it for me?» he laughs. You want to puke.
«Ew! What’s wrong with you?» he laughs so hard you start laughing again too, looking at him as he just simply wipes it on the carpet. You roll your eyes, pinning a mental note to vacuum it later.
«Aigoo, I never walk without slippers and now this happens» he complains, shaking his head. 
He quickly finds his hyung’s contact and puts the call on speaker. 
«Jungkookah» Yoongi’s voice fills the room, the younger smiles brightly at the screen.
«My hyung is going to be a dad! Yah! Bring us out for dinner» you slap his thigh, glaring at him. Yoongi laughs, totally expecting his request.
«I will. You saw the ultrasound?» 
«Of course I did,» he nods «I feel like it will be a girl. Am I right?»
«We don’t know yet. It’s too soon, but I don’t think so. Hyunjoo says it’s a boy» 
«Really?» he narrows his eyes. 
«How was it?» you ask, the excitement is uncontainable. You’re so happy for your friends, can’t wait to meet the little one.
«I cried,» he laughs, «I thought I would hold it in but I cried. Fuck, I’m so happy Y/n» 
«I know,» you chuckle «how are the cravings?» 
«Ugh, getting worse» he whines.
«I came home and she was eating pickled cucumbers,» he moans out of disgust «made me go back to the supermarket cause she needed mustard. Couldn’t she just send me a text before» he shakes his head even though you can’t see him.
Jungkook chuckles, his body getting limp on the cushions.
«That’s what you get for making me clean the ten servings of noodles you spilled the other day» 
«Yah! I had to set the table!» 
«You were the one who spilled all!» he fights back.
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Jungkook is really trying. And it’s going fine, it’s not hard to enjoy his days with you, it is never been. You just have chemistry together, you laugh almost all the time and never find it boring to be together. It’s just. 
It’s just the way his eyes linger on your rosy cheeks too much, he has to remind himself to look away, back to the movie playing on your tv. Or last night, when you were dancing to your favourite girl group’s new song, the way your lips curved into a beautiful smile, hair flying in the air and he had to hold back his smile, too big.
If he looks back to all these years, it makes him laugh, how fucking long it took him to realise how much you had of him. You spent entire days together and he would still do the same as he does now, stare at you mindlessly just for the sake of admiring you, then getting back to what was happening around him. It’s always been here, this feeling. It just took him so much to come to surface and even when it did he tried so hard to make it go away, push it down inside him until it became too much too bear and it hit as fucking hard as what you mean to him. All he repeats to himself is that he just has to do what he’s been doing all along, right? He lived with this for years, a day more won’t hurt him. 
«What are we doing tomorrow?»
He eats the last bite of pizza, cleaning his hands with the tissue.
«Yoongi’s taking us out for dinner» you answer, getting up to clean around. You grab the boxes and the glasses, the coke under your arm.
«We have to go grocery shopping» he adds. He sees you nod, you put the boxes on the counter and the glasses in the sink, make sure the coke is well closed and then put it in the fridge. It’s almost empty, the redness of the gochuchang box parked on the first shelf stands out too much with nothing beside it.
«Yes» you nod. 
«Are we going early? We can have breakfast out» 
He gets up from his spot, waddling to you. A big smile is all you need to understand his answer. Breakfasts out are the best. 
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Breaksfast out means getting up on time. Something you both struggle with, since you spent yesterday night awake until late. Jungkook has the tendency of staying in bed until he’s at least a bit awake, staring blankly at something as he sits up, eyes puffy and hair messy. You just storm out of the bed knowing that if you don’t you’ll fall asleep again in a matter of seconds. 
You knock on his door, no answer in sight. 
«Jungkook!» you call again. You hear the shuffles of the covers, his cute mumbling words that haven’t been invented yet.
«Get ready, let’s go have breakfast» you say. You hear him moan as he stretches, take it as your chance to go back to your room and shower. 
It takes you both twenty minutes to kind of be ready for your day, your eyes both puffy and a bit red. You decide to go to your favorite cafe and when you arrive a wave of excitement washes over you. It’s been so long since you had a nice and relaxed breakfast outside, the feeling of being free the whole day and not having to worry too much. Jungkook watches you smile as you order and play with your phone as you both wait for your food, his pinkish lips curling up into a beam. It feels good to see you like this; relaxed, happy. It reminds him of when you were younger, with less burden on your shoulders. 
When you go grocery shopping together it usually ends up with him pushing the cart and you filling it up, he points at a snack from time to time and you end up adding it to the rest. You come home for lunch, watch a movie right after until your eyes start to fall shut, so you decide it’s time to take a nap. Jungkook stays on the couch, wanting to see how it ends. You fall asleep well, sleep for two hours straight until your alarm rings. Silence fills the house when you wake up and you guess your friend is probably napping too, so you tiptoe out of your bedroom to get a snack, until you hear him.
He’s working out judging from his grunts coming from the bedroom in front of you. You’re used to it, Jungkook likes to stay active and just fills his time like this from time to time when he has time. 
Just, this time your mind wanders. You hear his sounds, picture him sweaty and with his muscles flexing, his eyes focused and his jaw clenched, his breath rough… until you’re wet, pulsating. You hold your breath, close your eyes. And you go back to your room, shut the door.
Scenes of him eating you out play right in front of your eyes, his moans. You end up on the bed, your trousers off and your panties pushed on the side of your lips. There were times when the thought of him in this way turned you on after you stared fucking but you always pushed them away, telling yourself that it’s not right. Just, this time they hit you harder. It’s been a while since you had sex and the way he sounded just makes you want to open his door and… you shouldn’t do that. Just focus on you, you think. 
Your fingers graze your clit, go lower to get your wetness on your fingers then go back to their initial place. You see him between your legs, his fingers inside you and his dark doe eyes staring directly at you. You hear him whisper, telling you how good you take his cock, how your pussy wraps so good around it, how good you make him feel.
The image of his cock fills your mind, leaving you with the need to suck it and hallow your cheeks around it, his grunts filling up your ears, the sweetest sound ever. You feel his fingers, delicate and warm, they touch you and caress you, his kisses on your lips. 
You see him on top of you, telling you to be careful with your ankle, eyes worried and arms wrapped around you. You feel loved, for a second. A kind of love that doesn’t belong to a friend. You feel admired, beautiful. The way he looks at you with pure affection makes you hiss, his words in your ear and your bodies tight. 
Feels so good, getting to have you like this.
See him pounding into you at the slowest pace, his fingers gracing your clavicle, his hair on your shoulder. The way he checks in with you to make sure that you’re enjoying this as much as him, begging you not hold back your moans.
Gonna give my baby what she needs.
You shiver, legs shaking. 
His fingers on your clit, his cock brushing against your walls with each thrust, his whines. The way he called you. 
Ssh, let go, his voice faint as the pleasure takes over him, his balls tight, give it to me, love. You cum, silent and incredibly hard your orgasm hits you like a wave during a thunderstorm, impossible to hold back and too good to decline. 
You lay on the bed, breath stuttered and eyes shut. Your heart beats too loud. 
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The first time you had sex it just happened. You don’t know what exactly went through your mind, the reason why you had to start it all; your body moved on its own. Jungkook was tired, arrived late at home and was sleepy. You cooked him dinner, kept him company while he ate even though you had dinner already. You listened to him whine about his day, the tiredness evident in his voice. A few minutes later you were on the way to your bed, already too intertwined with each other and with the new feeling bubbling up between you to stop whatever the hell was happening. 
The second time, it was pretty much just the same, you didn’t go to each other with the intent of fucking, but you ended up just like that, with his cock in your mouth and his eyes on your face. 
The third time, it was because you ended up talking about what was happening and how you should behave, how you should keep your friendship away from your rendezvous. It stared just like that, but again, you didn’t really behave that much.
And then, the last time. 
You never once went to each other with the intention of fucking. You wonder when is it going to happen again, in what way, the reason that could start it all. Would it be so bad if you just grabbed him and started it? Does that make your relationship different ? It would, you guess. But is it any different not looking for it but don’t say no when it happens? You don’t even know why you’re thinking about such questions, when you should be focusing on work. Today was stressful, you had a ten minutes lunch break because you had to go back to the papers on your table. You’re tired and your period is on the way which is probably the main reason why you’ve been feeling horny for the last four days. You should just leave it as it is or take care of it on your own, not really into casual sex with strangers or clubs. You wish you were more like Hana sometimes, enterprising and more likely to be ready to have some fun before she used to date Jin.
Your phone rings, displaying Jungkook’s name.
«Hey» you answer. 
«I’m bored» he whines from the other side. You picture him with his head falling back and his eyes shut, pouty lips.
«What should I do?» he stretches the last word out, childish tone. 
«Cook me dinner please?» you try. 
«Already did,» he huffs «when are you coming home?» 
«I have so much work to do, I don’t know» 
He whines again, leaned on his stomach his cheek is squashed against the cushion of your couch, arms by his sides and his legs kicking the air. 
His voice comes out muffled: «Please, I’m so bored» he complains. 
«Jungkook, I’m working» you sigh.
«Can I come?» he stares at the screen pleadingly, his ankles crossing as he flexes his toes. He eagerly takes the phone in his hands, eyes stuck on your name. He had a long day today, and even though he wishes he could go to bed already even though it’s only 8 pm, he’s not feeling sleepy nor tired, quite the opposite actually. Being alone in the living room is boring him too much, and he doesn’t feel like going to to someone else’s place, giving the usual noisy meeting they usually have. He just wants to relax, but not on his own. 
«Kook-»
«I’ll let you work, I promise» he begs, «I just want company»
If he could be an emoji, he’d probably be the one with the moist pleading eyes. You know it, the expression he makes when he craves for something, and that’s exactly your weak point.
A deep sigh makes his way out of your mouth, he can hear it from the phone. Silent follows right after.
«Okay, bring me food though please? I’m starving» 
«Yes!» he punches the air with a fist.
«I’ll be there in ten, I think. Just text me what you want to eat»
«The dinner you already made?» you ask. Jungkook licks his lips, this time the silence fills his part of the call.
«Okay, then be there in twenty I guess» he huffs.
You shake your head, what a moron.
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You realise in this period you’re really all over the place. And you also ponder, how long is it been since you had sex with someone? Not Jungkook, someone else. Jungkook is your friend, you shouldn’t think about him when you’re touching yourself to get some stress out or just when you’re craving for sex. It’s not right, it’s not the place of a friend. It’s making you stressed, to think about sex and link it to his face in your mind. You shouldn’t have done it in the first place, you think. You also thought about telling him that it can’t happen again, but it seems like it’s not going to happen anyway. You’re glad. 
So for once, tonight you let Eunji and Hana take you to a club, with just the intention of trying to take your mind off of it. Your methods didn’t work until now, so maybe theirs will. Your friends know you too well though.
«There’s something wrong, I smell your frustration from here» Eunji inhales dramatically, a grimace forms on her face right after.
«Ew, it smells bad. Like onion and soju mixed together» she likes her tongue out disgusted. You laugh, Hana shakes her head.
«That’s the guy behind you» she points at the man dancing his ass out on his own, totally drunk.
«For real though, what’s wrong?» 
Both of their eyes linger on you. You sigh.
«Just feeling a bit overwhelmed» you shrug. Your friendship it’s deep, meaningful, full of memories, you know you could tell everything to them and they would understand. You could even tell them about the rendezvous you had with Jungkook, but that would put you and him in a not so comfortable position with your friends, the last thing you want is for them to think that you have sex with each other consistently. 
«I’ve been sleeping with someone» you announce. Eunji coughs on her drink, Hana’s eyes shoot right open. They stare at you as if you have two heads, still on the dance floor. 
«Oh, come on! It’s not that shocking. I-»
«We need to sit» Hana takes you by the hand, Eunji following right after. The couches are not really big, but you fit into one without any problems. The people are less here, the smell of alcohol and sweat too, thankfully. 
Their attention goes back to you; «Is he someone we know?»
«Why would you? No,» you shrug «you don’t know him»
«Is he good?» Eunji sips from her drink. That’s a weird question, not the one you would firstly expect from her.
«What? Why?» 
«You seem stressed and you said it yourself that you’re overwhelmed, so it’s either one of the two: he’s so fucking good that you can’t stop thinking about it or he totally sucks» straight to the point. Hana caresses your shoulder, glaring at Eunji for her ways even though you know that deep inside her she wants to laugh.
«No! He’s- I mean, he’s… good. It’s something else that bothers me»
«What?» Hana coos.
«He’s my friend, and it just happened. Different times» you explain.
«So you’re fuck buddies now?» Eunji raises her eyebrows.
«No! It just happened, we don’t do it often. I just… I don’t know how to explain it, it’s not like we see each other in that way. We have a good friendship, like- we value each other. Every time it happened, it’s not like we were expecting it or-»
«That’s worse, I guess» she shakes her head. You’re about to say something, but her words leave you wordless. 
«What, why?»
«Listen, I don’t think you can be friend and still sleep with him. If you had sex, that means you’re attracted to each other. Even if it’s not in a romantic way, it just… If it just happened, girl, there was sexual tension between you. I guess» she adds the end just because your expression is giving her shivers. The look on your friends’ faces screams panic.
«It would be better if you had a clear answer on what you are. Like… mmh, you know I’m bad at explaining things!» she whines, «Hana, please help»
Your friend sighs.
«Y/n, is this thing still happening? Like, are you still sleeping together?»
You shrug.
«It’s been a while,» you let out «actually, that’s the problem»
«You want to-»
«No, I don’t» you cut her off.
«I realised that it’s getting too much. Like, I think of him too much in a sexual way it’s making me feel uncomfortable»
«That’s what I meant» Eunji nods. 
«I’ve been there. Remember Hyun?» she chuckles. 
Of course you remember him. The guy was not really close to her, but it was the start of a friendship still. They used to have sex everywhere, their friendship ended up with them fucking each others brains out, after two months, they couldn’t bare it anymore. The atmosphere was heavy, too much sexual tension without even really having a conversation. The fact that Jimin started to find interest in Eunji made her end it even faster.
«We’re not like that though. We have a good friendship, we trust each other and-»
«And you have sex. Not regularly, it happens without any expectations. So it means that you don’t see each other as fuckbuddies, but there’s sexual tension. That’s the base for a relationship. If you put sex into the mix, you end up with butterflies in your stomach. I’m just saying that if you value him that much you should be careful. Understand what you want» her voice softens at the end, but you’re too upset by her words to notice. Eunji hates to be the one saying this, but she has to try at least. You need to know what you’re doing, set some boundaries wether you decide to do something or the other. 
«Y/n, you know that we love you. Eunji’s just trying to-»
«I know» you nod, a knot in your throat. 
«I just… I need to go home, need to clear my mind and sleep over it» you sigh, monotone. Your hand grabs the pochette laying by your side, eyes scamming the club that suddenly seems to little. You shouldn’t have slept with him in the first place. You know that you don’t feel feelings towards him, but thinking about him in such ways… it makes you feel guilty, like your friendship could lose its meaning, like it’s stained. Like it could get out of control. It’s too much to think about him when you’re alone deep at night, like the last one, his face invading your mind when your fingers are deep inside you, even though you’re trying not to picture him. 
«Now?» Hana asks, the worry in her eyes is clear. A glance towards Eunji and they’re both nodding, communicating with each other without having to speak. They know you too well, they could see the panic in your eyes even with theirs closed. 
The way back home it’s short, the music playing in Eunji’s car does nothing to ease your mind even though it’s your favorite girl group, your friends glance at you from time to time from the rear view mirror. When you get off and say goodbye, they wait for you to shut the door behind you to look at each other, eyes wide open and jaw hanging. 
«Jungkook» the name is crystal clear, both of them letting it out with a shocked expression.
«It’s fucking Jungkook» Hana nods.
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Jungkook didn’t think that coming back home early meant this. 
You said you had company, texted him twenty minutes before he got off work, but he wasn’t expecting this kind of company. He was expecting Eunji and Hana, maybe Taehyung or some of your friends, a coworker maybe. Definitely not you getting fucked in your bedroom by someone he can’t identify. 
This is torture, it’s all he can think. When he arrived nothing seemed weird or odd, expect for the fact that he found the living room empty. As he started getting closer to his bedroom, he realised. And fuck, the slap he got on his face, the punches that hit him on the stomach and on his chest left him breathless, his injuries in pain and itching, his eyes shutting. 
This is torture, it really is. 
He moves from the hallway, goes to the bathroom to wash his hands and wet his face with cold water.
He can’t stay here, not in such a moment. Not when he can hear you like this, with someone else. It hurts. Fuck, it fucking hurts, it stings, it tears him wide open all the way from the inside to the last layer of his skin. His eyes burn, lips twitch. And suddenly, he’s sobbing. Sobbing in his bathroom, his reflection pitiful and broken. His breath is rough, cheeks stained from the tears, vision foggy. A whimper comes out of his mouth and he bites on his lower lip, repeating to himself that it’s okay. But it’s really not.
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Jungkook’s eyes are swollen, puffy. You think it’s because he’s still half asleep, but when you meet his eyes you’re taken aback. He looks tired, as if he didn’t sleep well, but they’re a bit red. He cried? You didn’t hear him coming in yesterday night, you knew he worked late and left him dinner ready, but when you woke up today his food was just where you left it, the table still set. 
«Kook?» you coo from the counter. He hums in return, head hanging low on his shoulders and eyes staring down at his legs, he sits on the couch with the tv playing in front of him. 
You turn around, wash your hands quickly and dry them with a paper towel. You tiptoe to the sofa, glance at him from the side. Your senses are tingling, there’s something wrong. 
«Kook, look at me?» you ask sweetly. He stays still, fingers fidgeting on his lap. He thought you were still sleeping, his room felt too tight to stay in it any longer. He wishes you had different opinions on open spaces, when you were looking for a house. Maybe you wouldn’t have seen him with a wall dividing the living room from the kitchen, and he would be tiptoeing back to his bed already.
«Please?» you try. 
It’s to no use. All you can do is gulp, worried for what’s going on.
«Is something wrong?» you ask.
«Did something happen?» 
He doesn’t answer. He knows if he opens his mouth now he will start crying again. Maybe you should just sit beside him and wait for him to open up. You turn around the table, take a sit next to him and pat him on his shoulder. 
«Koo» you call again. He doesn’t even look at you. Your hand stays there, trying to give him some comfort but it only makes him want to break in a loud cry. 
«Please» you whisper. 
Yesterday, he thought about going over to Namjoon’s place or just anyone else’s, but he didn’t want to show how miserable he was. Thankfully, that guy was out ten minutes later. What a fucking joke, if he found just a bit more traffic coming home he wouldn’t be feeling like shit now. 
Your hand leaves him, you get up and for a second his lips tremble, his walls falling down as he thinks you’re giving him some space. But then, you kneel down. In front of him, right between his legs with your fucking beautiful eyes staring at him. Your expression changes; the worry gets more urgent, pressing. 
«What happened?» you’re breathless. You’ve never seen him like this, it scares the shit out of you and he can see it perfectly. You reach your arms around him, his breath cuts off.
«Don’t» he whines, voice faint, pleading. You don’t understand what is happening, your head is spinning. You put your arms back down.
«Talk to me» you whisper. He has tears in his eyes, his lips are red as if he’s been biting them all night long. He turns to the side, his eyes burn when he stares at the wall without blinking. His lips tremble. 
«Koo, please. I’ve got you»
The dim breaks. His chest shakes, expression contorting as the first tears start coming out. He sobs faintly, shakes his head to himself and looks down to the ground. It’s physically painful, to see him hurting this much; you wish you could take it all away from him and make it yours, if only that was possible you’d do it even if it hurt ten times more. It couldn’t hurt more than this, though.
Your hands wrap around him, holding him so tight to you that you feel his sobs vibrate against you. 
«I’ve got you» you soothe him, caressing his hair. With your warmth around him and your caresses, everything falls down into pieces. Every part of him breaks harder, the tear gets wider and deeper, your words of reassurance fill the wounds up but don’t sew them, they just make them heavier to the point that they pierce him and make him empty. Your hold suffocates him and your warmth is painful, your caresses bluffer him. 
«I- I c- Please I-» he shakes in your hold, not able to speak. Your eyes burn, seeing him like this it’s atrocious. 
«Breathe» you beg, holding him tighter.
«Please breathe for me Jungkook, breathe» 
He hears how your voice is shaking, sniffles as he tries to breathe properly, sobs bubble up from his chest when he inhales. Your cheek brushes against his neck, you leave a kiss out of comfort and his hands instinctively fist your shirt. He tells himself to slow down, think properly and hold back but with your loving arms around him it’s a nightmare.
«Ssh, it’s okay. I promise» you whisper. Time slows down, you just focus on his breathing. One thing at a time, you tell yourself. You, need to calm him down first, you need to see him breathing properly, at least a bit lucid. Stroking his back up and down you think about what you can do to make him relax. You’ll make him some tea as soon as he’s doing better, it will soothe him at least a little bit.
«I’m here for you» 
Jungkook’s breath moderately calms down,  his sobs still come from time to time, but you have all the time in the world. You don’t care about how long it’s going to take him to stop crying, you just know that you want to be here, need to. It’s desperate, the need you have to make him feel better, almost consuming.
«I’m- ngh- I’m sorry» he hiccups. He buries is face in the crook of your neck, his cheeks are still wet and his hair tickle you.
«So sorry- I’m really-»
«Ssh, it’s okay» you repeat. You keep stroking his hair, Jungkook seems to quite down the more you do it, his hold gets firmer too as if he’s trying to anchor himself. 
«Did something bad happen?» you try. 
He moves in your hold, making you squeeze him tighter until you realise that he’s looking for a way out, so you let go. He wishes it was this easy, that his feelings could let him free just as easy. With you between his legs,  it gets hard to breathe again. The way your eyes linger on his face, scan every feature and every expression, even the way he bites the inside of his cheek. 
«I… I’m sorry» he mumbles low. This time, his eyes look at you. Clear, transparent, vibrant fear lingers in them with so much weight that it takes away your braveness. Jungkook’s eyes stay in yours even while they fill up with tears again, they don’t budge. The knot in his throat gets back, your presence suddenly feels blissful and he wishes he could just linger in this feeling. The feeling of you being close even if it’s only like this, keep being satisfied with only having a part of you.
«It’s- too painful» he breathes. 
«What is it?» you look at him from down, with your glassy eyes and he just-
«I- I… I love you» his voice trembles. 
Silence fills the room.
His words make a dull sound in your head, your body stiffens, lips ajar. Jungkook is frightened, totally stuck in place. His heart beats so fucking loud that it will explode.
The shock it’s too big and it stops you from letting the three words sink in, all you can do is stare at him blankly as he holds his heart in front of you.
«I’m- I can’t,» he shakes his head «it’s too much. I just… it’s killing me» 
«You…» you gulp «you don’t mean it that way, right?» your voice trembles.
«It’s just- we-» you shake your head, take in a deep breath.
«We shouldn’t have- it’s because we had sex. It has to be because of that cause you didn’t-» you stop talking. 
Jungkook stays silent, his chest burns, the tears in his eyes get uncontainable, until he breaks again. His shoulders tremble and he sniffs but it’s so silent that it’s even more consuming. He looks at you with such eyes, such vulnerability and fear at the same time, as if he was a stray puppy and you his possible saviour or his next predator. It scares you. And you understand his answer, because you know him, because it can be seen from miles away. 
It’s not because you slept together.
«I need-» it’s hard to breathe properly «I need air» 
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He’s confused, he mistook his emotions, most surely. It has to be that. How can- how can it be not? You’re his friend, his best friend. The one he likes to tease, the one that knows him almost as deep as he knows himself. The person he- this can’t be right. It simply can’t.
You can’t come back home. You really can’t, he needs space to think this through; you need it. You need peace, somewhere to relax, to just don’t think. If you go to Eunji’s place maybe- she will ask. Hana too, and what about Jin and Jimin? Maybe a hotel room is the best choice, in that way you won’t receive questions, no one will get curious. 
Thank god you had your phone in your pocket when you went out and weren’t wearing home clothes. You book an hotel room not too far, call a cab since you left your car keys at home. 
You can’t face him now. 
You walked a lot today, wandered around without a destination and ended up sipping a bottle of strawberry mogu mogu on Han river. Your phone buzzed at lunch time, then again at four pm, another time just fifteen minutes ago, but you didn’t take it out of your pocket. It scares you, because you know that it’s him. 
Your hotel room is a beautiful one, has a big double bed with fluffy pillows, big bathtub, snacks in the fridge, a beautiful view on the eighteenth floor. The big buildings and the city lights make you feel small, the look of the man at the reception desk too. He probably doesn’t care about the reason why you’re here instead of sleeping at home, but your mind does. Maybe then, you’re the one who makes yourself feel small. Still, you don’t want to care. You can’t go back home, not now. What would you do? What would you tell him, how would he look at you? You need time. 
When you lay on your bed, your phone buzzes again. You breathe in as you open the messages.
From Jungkook🐰 12.37pm
I’m sorry. I cooked you lunch, I left the food in the oven so it will still be warm when you come back. I ate early to give you some space. I’m really sorry
From Jungkook🐰 4.13pm
Where are you? Please be safe. Your car is here, do you want me to come and pick you up? Or I can call a taxi. Just, please be safe
From Jungkook🐰 7.54pm
Y/n, I’m worried. It’s dark outside and I went out to look for you but I just don’t know where you are. I cooked you dinner, so if you come back it will be in the oven too. Just text me so I know that you’re safe at least, please
From Jungkook🐰 8.33pm
I’m really sorry, please come home. I’ll go to Taehyung’s place if you need to be alone. Where are you? It’s dark outside and I’m really worried
Guilt takes over you, makes his way through every single part of your body until there’s not a single piece of your skin that isn’t drenched with it. Your fingers move on the keyboard, eyebrows pinched together.
From Y/n🧸 8.36pm
I’m safe. I booked a hotel room for tonight, so don’t worry. I need a bit of space, so I don’t think I will be back tomorrow. 
Jungkook’s fingers never typed an answer so fast.
From Jungkook🐰 8.36pm
I was so scared that something happened
From Jungkook🐰 8.36pm
Please eat dinner and don’t skip your meals
From Jungkook🐰 8.37pm
I won’t text you if you need space. Just, do you want me to bring you your car keys? You left them here
From Y/n🧸 8.39pm
No, it’s fine. 
From Jungkook🐰 8.39pm
Okay
From Jungkook🐰 8.45pm
I know you don’t want to talk right now, but I just need to tell you this: I will always have my arms empty for you, whenever you need a safe space I will be here. As we’ve always done with each other. Please remember this. Sleep well 
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You wonder how is it possible, to be friends with someone for so long and don’t notice that there’s more. You wonder when it begun, how. Where did the friendship end and the love begin, the boundaries. Which one of his gestures where made out of friendship, which were made out of love. How did he realise. Why you. 
For the three days after you left home, all you told yourself was that he was confused, that he mistook his feelings, that it can’t be true. After you spent yesterday night walking in the streets, took another walk on the Han river and even dared to eat dinner on the riverside, a good look at the waters took your mind back to his eyes. To the way he looked at you, his eyes clear, transparent and full of vulnerability and fear when he opened up to you. What if, he’s always been in love with you, it’s always been this way. What if he’s not misinterpreting his feelings, what if he really loves you. 
It scared you even more than the day before.
You never saw him that way, your friendship has always been just friendship for you. Until- well, it’s still friendship. Eunji wouldn’t say so, but for you it is. So where does love start for you? With attraction most of all, you guess. With the want and the need to feel someone in more ways, physically, emotionally, sentimentally. With wanting to be whole. Love is… butterflies, feeling loved, giving love, taking care of each other. So where is the boundary? The boundary of friendship. 
Because fuck, today you start to wonder, you think that Eunji is right. 
What do friends do? Are you not allowed to feel all of that and still call it just friendship? What if, what if you are the one mistaking yourself? What if it’s something else, what if it’s not just friendship anymore. When did it start, when does it end. You’ve always craved this things with Jungkook. Always craved for physical touch, maybe not in a sexual way before, but what if you just didn’t ponder on it too much because you’ve always restrained yourself into thinking that you were just friends. You’ve felt the need to share, to the point that you got a home with him. You’ve always wanted him emotionally, always were ready for him in whatever occasion, always felt close to him. You’ve always felt loved, you’ve always gave love back. You always took care of each other with all yourselves.
Would you do all of that for any of your friends, for Taehyung, or Namjoon maybe? 
You’re not too sure. You don’t think so.
Is it the same with them? Of course not. You would do anything for them, but you guess it’s not in the same way, not as deeply.
What about before, even before the first time you had sex. Because maybe, it could be that you’re thinking this just because you slept together? Like, you could be the one mistaking your emotions now. 
You still felt this kind of connection before, though. With the Jungkook who was just your best friend. You don’t feel it for Namjoon who’s just your friend. You don’t feel that kind of tight embrace around you when he lingers his eyes on you for too much, his laughter doesn’t make you giggle like Jungkook’s. You don’t feel lost when he’s not talking to you or not meeting your eyes when you look at him. You wouldn’t want to have anything more with him in the first place, cause he’s just Namjoon. And for god’s sake, you wouldn’t have wanted it with Jungkook neither, if you didn’t feel already more. The fact that you were already ready to just welcome him in when the opportunity of being closer knocked on your door, well… that’s the answer. You still remember it, the frustration of seeing him so tired and the need to make him feel better after a shitty day, the need you had to take care of him when you first slept together. 
You were never just friends. Maybe in the first place, maybe at the beginning, maybe when you were younger. You just simply got used to him and his presence, never really gave your eyes a chance to see clearly, never really made yourself look at him differently because he was just… your Jungkook. 
But, what now? Is he still- Jungkook? Like, your best friend? Now that you realised, now that you understand the reason why you wondered when the next time was going to be, how; the reason why his eyes slipped in your mind at night, his words, the way he called you the last time you slept together. 
Now that you realise that, could you go back to who you were before? Just, craving for his touch but telling yourself that it’s not okay, looking at him and wishing you could take away all of his tiredness but thinking that it’s normal, for a friend. Wanting to take every part of him and know it all, looking from far away, peeking out and stealing some but not getting it whole. Could you still do that? Cause before, you didn’t know at least. Now, could you? Sentimentally too, would you be okay with it?
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Jungkook just wants to go to sleep and forget about the shitty day he had. He didn’t sleep well tonight, the house feels to empty without you and last night his brain just wouldn’t stop working, kept wondering about you. If you had dinner, what time did you go to sleep at, how much did you work, if you finished the last drama you were watching. 
Today, it was pretty much just the same. The fear of you not coming back insinuated in his mind at some point during work, he even took a break and had a snack but he just kept picturing himself inside your house, all alone. Him without you, his best friend and his person. He typed on your chat for multiple times, asking you if you were eating your meal correctly, how work was going, if you were craving for ice cream just like he was, he texted sorry too, but he always ended up not sending the messages. 
He’s tired, work was rough and he wishes he could just go back in time to ask you what you want to eat for dinner, he’d cook it even though he’s tired as hell. He wouldn’t sleep for three days straight, if that would be able to bring you back just to have dinner together. 
He hates to know that you feel uncomfortable with him, can’t come back home because he’s there, that you won’t look at him in the same way as you did before. He hates to not have you by his side, when just a look could make him happy. 
The guys packed him on the shoulder, told him that he did the right thing, but he doesn’t think so. These days have been hell. There’s not a day that goes by that he doesn’t think about the way you looked at him, how he stuttered those words out and doesn’t regret it. 
Today they all had lunch together, with Eunji, Hana and Hyunjoo too. It was so odd to not see you there that he kept spacing out all the time. The girls didn’t talk about you and he even though he wanted to he didn’t ask because probably you didn’t tell them what happened.
The elevator doors open and the end of the hallway looks so far from here that he wishes he could teleport. Even the passcode of your door seems too complicated to enter now. He types the first three numbers, his eyes glued on the screen.
The door clicks, a grimace on his face, lips pouty in confusion. Then, your face. 
Jungkook looks at you as if you hung the stars in the sky, as if you were one of them. His eyes open wider, lips ajar, his shoulders fall down. He feels like he’s dreaming. Is it real? You’re home. When did you come, why? What- fuck, he feels like he’s going to cry.
The way he looks at you with his big starry eyes, it makes you gulp. How your fingers tingle for the need you feel to squeeze him tight and never let go. There’s a knot in your throat and all you can do is stare at him and linger in the feelings that hit you like a fucking bucket of cold water. And it’s bitter that they taste like they always did: the sweetness is the same, the audacity just bolder now that you let the door open: but they taste just the same. All this time, all these years. They’ve always been in front of you, you’ve always been way to deep and only realised after so much. 
«I… I- I cooked you dinner» 
He doesn’t budge, still on the doorway and with his eyes glossy. You reach your hand to him, Jungkook still stuck in place as you gently grab his wrist to make him come in, his body almost stumbling at your touch as he enters.
You close the door behind him, leave his wrist. 
«You- you… what? Are you…» he shakes his head, totally astonished. 
«You cooked?» his tone makes your lips stretch into a smile.
«I cooked,» you nod «I cooked us dinner» 
You didn’t think your heart could beat this fast. You really didn’t notice it for all this time. Every time it happened you always blamed it on something else, not the man in front of you. When his words would make you feel comforted, when you’d search for his eyes in the room, when just his presence was enough to make you feel at ease; in every moment the emotion you’re feeling now would bubble up in your chest just for you to push it aside without even noticing, a tag with the label friendship covering its true pinkish colour.
«Take your coat off» you coo. Jungkook stands still for a few seconds, still stunned. His eyes stare at you blankly until he nods. He puts his bag on the ground and hangs his jacket, you watch him move, eyes lingering on every part of him that you missed too much. His long hair, the bangs on his forehead, the mole on his nose, the one right under his lips. When he raises his eyes and finds you staring, you don’t move your eyesight. His eyes pierce right through you, deep and transparent just like the last time. They are scared, vulnerable and totally defenceless; if you looked closely enough, maybe you would’ve always seen it. 
«Jungkook, I…» 
His arms wrap around you. 
It’s tight and soothing and the fucking consuming. You squeeze him in your hold, your head falls on his shoulder and you know that you can’t hold it in any longer. 
«I’m so sorry,» you sniff «I was selfish. I’m sorry. I- I just-»
«Ssh, it’s okay» he sniffs too. The tears burn his eyes as he tries to keep them in but having you here in his arms makes it harder. He feels you hiccup, your back shakes, your hands fist his shirt, and your nose muffles into the crook of his neck. He clenches his jaw, squeezes you tighter.
«I’m sorry too»
«I was so scared. I just- I didn’t realise»
He knows, fuck he knows. He just wishes you wouldn’t vanish away. Don’t, just don’t cause he doesn’t think he will be able to forget himself.
«It’s okay, you don’t- just please don’t leave me» he whimpers. 
Jungkook breaks down in your arms. He loves you too much, values you too much to not have you in his life. He doesn’t care how much he has to hurt or hold back, he can’t do this without you, without his best friend. The house felt so empty without you.
«I won’t,» you sob «I promise I won’t. I’m sorry I made you worry and left. I needed time and- I- I needed to think» you sniff. His hands stroke your hair and you let go of a deep breath. You missed the feeling of his caresses, how his touch is always been enough to sooth you.
«You didn’t do anything wrong» he whispers. A tear streams down from the corner of his eye, it tickles his cheek and makes him loiter in the warmth of you even more.
«No, I- I was selfish… you opened up to me, and I- I left you. I’m-»
«You’re here,» he whispers «you came back. You’re here with me, you- you didn’t leave» his voice breaks and you feel him tremble. Your heart clenches and stings in your chest as he nuzzles his nose into your neck.
«Just- please,» he pleads «stay with me» 
Your dim breaks. You shake your head, lay your lips on his neck. He whimpers as he hiccups and when you lay a soft kiss on his skin Jungkook feels like dying inside. Your lips are so soft. Your nose brushes against him, another kiss laid on his skin just right upper, then another one and another one until you’re just under his jaw, his breath unstable as the tears wet his skin. Your hands leave his back, your body parts slightly, his hands reluctantly let go of the hold he has around you. You cup his cheeks, soft and reddish from the crying, look at him in those beautiful stars. They’re a bit swollen from the tears, his cheeks are damp, his lips trembling. 
«I was so fucking scared that I didn’t realise»
«Me neither,» he nods «but it doesn’t- it doesn’t matter. Just don’t leave. I can’t-» he gulps harshly. 
«The thought of not having- you by my side, it killed me. I- I couldn’t sleep, work was hell, I-»
«I’m not leaving you» your hand tenderly strokes his hair. Jungkook stay still as you dry his tears with your thumb. You want to slap yourself for causing him so much pain, he must’ve felt so scared already and you just- you just made it harder. You should’ve talked to him, should’ve faced him.
 «I promise» you smile softly. Jungkook could implode for how happy he feels right now, with you smiling at him just in the same way as you used to. Your lips tremble and a new hiccup comes out. His arms go back to where they were before, they squeeze you to him and it’s so familiar and bittersweet, it smells like home and trust and all you can do is let go in his embrace.
You let the rest of your tears come out, hear his breathing slow down, feel his heartbeat against you. You kiss his jaw, your lips tickle his wet skin, your hand reaches behind his neck and Jungkook wishes he could just take his heart out of his chest and step on it, make the feelings go away. But it’s just too saccharine, the way your lips linger on his skin for a second too long, how you perfectly fit in his arms.
«I want you,» you whisper «I want you whole» you lay another kiss on his mandible.
«I want every part of you, every- everything you can give» you peck his chin, look at his eyes. Jungkook doesn’t understand, his eyes wide and glossy stare at you as if you were telling him to solve the hardest mathematical problem ever. Still, he looks at you with such tenderness that it makes your insides twist. He’s lost, totally. 
If his love could be represented, he’d paint you in pinkish colours, then in black and white, in blue and all the colours in the world. He’d make a different version every time just to admire at your face some more, to keep the next one to himself when the lights will make the one before fade, so he’ll always be able to meet your eyes just like now. Remember the feeling you light up in him.
«I love you» 
It’s odd, how lives intertwine. How people can take and give from each other pieces that can’t be seen, how two roads that never meet can lead to the same place. It’s beautiful, the way you speak. It’s dreamy. Its dreamy, the way you look at him, the way he used to look at you for all this time, it’s beautiful how your lives intertwined, how you became each other’s mystery and answer at the same time. How you’ve walked together for all this years, silently hand by hand but without ever looking down at them, not even knowing. 
Jungkook laughs. He laughs as his tears fall down and he thinks that maybe the world will end, cause his head is spinning. You chuckle and your eyes are wet, and suddenly your hands cup his cheeks again.
«I love you» you repeat. He shakes his head, sniffing totally in disbelief.
«I do» you laugh, nodding. His head stops. His eyes widen slowly, the look on his face makes you bite down on your lips, it’s like seeing the sky clear after a thunderstorm, as if the sun was peeking out from behind the dark clouds. His mouth opens.
«I do» you whisper. 
Suddenly he wants to cry even more. Your lips lock with his and it’s so gentle and sweet, and oh god, so consuming. You take all the space, every cellule of his body, all the air in the room, in the house even. You leave him breathless, lungs burning on fire. His lips are soft, wet with tears, salty. Jungkook whimpers in your mouth, his hand reaches your face and fuck, there’s no end. No end to how fucking much you have of him, how much of him is yours. 
His thumb strokes your cheek, his other hand falls on your waist. His tongue is warm, his eyes shut, eyelashes fluttering against your cheeks, both of your hearts pounding. You kiss slowly, sweetly, lovingly. You wish you could never let go, have him like this forever. And for the first time your thoughts are the same as Jungkook’s in this moment. If he could read your mind, how big  would be the smile stretching on his face. Jungkook smiles on your lips, his teeth brush against your tongue, his digits on your waist lightly dig into your skin. When you part, your eyes are still shut, foreheads pressing against each other.
«I’m sorry,» you mumble on his lips, he shakes his head, pecking your lips with such tenderness «I’m sorry it took me so long to realise»
Jungkook is the happiest man in the world.
You came back, you’re in his arms, you love him. You fucking love him, you do.
«It’s okay, it’s perfect. You- just please come to me» he guides you close to him again, you shut your mouth when his warmth wraps around you, his eyes shut. You don’t want to let go, you won’t. 
«Jungkook» you call softly. He hums against you neck, his lips dare to peck your skin and he can’t fucking believe that he gets to do it cause he simply can.
«When did you realise?» 
«I already knew» he murmurs.
«But… on Eunji’s birthday… you came back home and were so drunk. You slept with someone else and I just- I guess my feelings were so strong that I couldn’t control them anymore»
«I slept with someone?» you ask, your head shooting up too look at him. Jungkook nods.
«You said he had a pretty dick» he chuckles for your choice of words, even though he can still fill it sting. Just the thought of you in someone else’s arms makes him heart clench. 
«Oh! No!» you laugh, «Jungkook, I didn’t sleep with anyone. He was peeing outside of the club and I was so drunk that I kept repeating him that he had a pretty dick for all the way home» you explain.
«Ew, it’s so embarrassing. Eunji made him take me home because he’s her brother’s best friend» 
Jungkook can’t believe his ears. His eyes are about to roll out of his sockets for how wide they are.
«You- I thought…» he shakes his head.
«I didn’t, you know I don’t feel comfortable in those type of situations» you shake your head.
«Even though… last week I-»
«I know» he murmurs.
«You know?» he nods. 
How does he? You don’t understand, how is-
«I came home early and- I… heard» his words are faint, a thin line that holds all the pain his heart was stained with. It echoes in the room, gets back to your ears until your eyes widen and you feel disoriented.
«So you-» you can’t even process your words properly «I’m so sorry, fuck» you really don’t know how to apologise. He was at home, while you were under another man. He heard you. His eyes were swollen the next morning, that’s why. He couldn’t even look at you. 
«If I knew, I wouldn’t- I…» 
He smiles softly, his heart clenches. 
«You’re in my arms now» his lips tremble slightly.
«I just kept thinking about you and when it was going to happen again. I kept telling myself that we shouldn’t have slept together in the first place, I felt guilty that I thought about my best friend in such ways and- I- I told myself that it was happening because I hadn’t slept with anyone else for a while»
You do your best to explain without getting your words intertwined, but Jungkook’s expression doesn’t change into an angry one, he doesn’t glare at you, doesn’t budge. He just nods, smiles sweetly. 
Love can be blind. It can blind you to the point that you can’t see straight, can’t decipher what’s happening. You were scared, lost. 
«I hurt you so fucking much» you whisper. 
«Maybe it had to happen, for us to be here» he whispers.
«I don’t care about anything,» he strokes your hair «It hurt. But you’re here with me and I just- I just want you close to me» 
His arms hold you just for the sake of it. 
His warmth is intoxicating, the sound of his breath too. You wish you realised sooner, you wish that he didn’t have to hear you in such circumstances cause the pain on his face the next day was unbearable. When he saw you the next morning, all he could think about was you under someone else, your skin against his, your eyes looking at him in the same way you looked at him. The same thoughts that teared him apart for all night long. But now, it doesn’t matter. It was just a step that had to be taken, in a way or another. It was just something that guided you to him, in his arms right now.
Something in the air shifts. All your senses tingle, they scream for him and his touch just the same as Jungkook’s. He wants to have you, the most vulnerable part of you, like no one else ever did. You want his lips and his caresses, his eyes deep into yours.
«Let’s go to bed?» 
His breath catches in his throat.
«I want you closer than this»
The path to your bedroom never felt so good to walk on, with Jungkook’s fingers digging in your hips and his lips on your neck. It’s thrilling, the feeling running through your body. It’s saccharine, sugar coated. Your hands in his hair fit so good, the way you whimper when you stumble cause you can’t see in front of you, how he chuckles on your lips. 
«I want you in my bed,» he breathes on your lips «wanna keep you there all night long» 
Fuck, the way he makes you melt in his arms with just a few words. You nod eagerly,  letting your hands run on his back. Jungkook can’t hold himself back any longer, gripping you by your thighs and kissing your neck, his lips are wet and with the air your skin fills of shivers. His fingers dig into your skin as he moves towards his bedroom. 
«I want you so bad» you whine. 
«Gonna give it to you baby, everything you want» 
The door is shut and Jungkook doesn’t seem to want to let go of holding you as he kisses your lips. It’s too much to ask of him, after loving you for so long. You’re too breathtaking, too perfect.
«Let me» he kisses you again «open the d-» another kiss. You laugh on his mouth, his giggles fill the air as he keeps pecking your lips. 
«Kook, the door» 
He smiles big, turns around to make you open the door without letting you go. It stays open when he walks inside, doesn’t care at all and just walks to the bed, leans you down on his sheets. 
«Take it off» you mumble. He moans when your hands reach his skin under the shirt, nuzzles his face into your neck. You lift the cloth, Jungkook kisses your clavicle, his lips get as low as your shirt permits, his nose brushes against the swell of your breasts. You pinch his back, giggle when he whines.
«Want you naked» you remind. He laughs and looks into your eyes, totally drunk. 
«You’re so impatient» he sniggers, making you smile and turn. Your cheeks grow red as your eyes look at his nightstand.
«Look at me» 
His fingers reach the hem of his shirt as you turn again, he lifts it more and takes it off from between your legs; the view makes you salivate, his muscles on full display, his brownish nipples getting hard with the cold air.
«Want me to take my pants off too?» 
You want to smack his ass but you refrain yourself, you know he’s just teasing you like always.
«Shut up» you shake your head. His fingers reach the button of his pants, he slides it through the hole, pulls the zipper down. 
«Let me» you sit on the bed. You kiss his neck, let your fingers graze the skin of his chest, your touch makes his cock twitch, hard and swollen in his boxers. You let your hand pass over his navel, down until you reach his dick. 
Your hand lingers on it, Jungkook’s head falling back. 
«Fuck, you’re too much» he moans. 
«Make me so hard by doing nothing» he hisses. Butterflies fill your chest, your hand squeezes him through the cloths and you feel yourself getting wetter as he lets out a rough breath. God, the sounds he makes. They make you want to surrender to him and his pleasure, you feel the need to take him in your mouth as if your life depended on it. His hands go back on your body, fast fingers fist the material of your skirt. 
«You’re too impatient» you mock. He hums a soft giggle looking at you. 
«I am» he admits. Your sneaker in response makes him smile big and he lays his forehead on yours. He looks at you with those eyes, all the stars in the world couldn’t be as bright and magnificent as them and you can’t help but dive deeper and deeper. 
«I want to make love to you, wanna make you feel so good» and it feels so good to be able to say it out loud. To let you know.
You kiss him, really too impatient to hold back any longer. He helps you out of your skirt, takes your shirt off, makes you lay on the bed as he takes his pants and boxers off, his socks too. And fuck, the way he looks. How fucking gorgeous this man is when he’s just standing in front of you with his cock hard and standing proudly, cockhead red and swollen, skin exposed and the tattoos on his arm on full display.
«Fuck, come here» you beg. Jungkook doesn’t let you repeat it twice, his body hovers yours and you open your legs to welcome him. He kisses your right hip, his lips are wet and they tickle your skin, make you squirm under him as he cups your breast from over the bra. 
«Fuck, I love you» he hisses as he looks up at you. You can’t control the beat of your heart, too lost in him and how much youu’ r been missing. You can’t believe it took you so long to finally understand. Your lips part as you stare down at his face, his dark eyes on you. He kisses your stomach with his eyes in yours, the scene makes you so wet that you wrap your legs around him and Jungkook’s cock brushes against your panties. He moans, the most beautiful sound you’ve ever heard, his mouth is still on you and the lace of your panties feels so fucking good on the underside of his cock that he shuts his eyes. He can feel your wetness even through them, they are soaked. Fucking hell. Your legs squeeze him more as you look at him, his mouth open and eyebrows pinched together. You lift your hips, to give him some friction. Hic cock twitches against you and you let out a breathy moan that makes him open his eyes. 
«Oh, fuck» he moans. It’s guttural and so fucking sexy. You can’t wait to hear more, you want to make him crazy. 
«Grind against me» you breathe. His cock twitches again, his jaw clenches. He lets you pull him closer with your legs, keep him tight against you until his cock is practically glued to your panties, your pussy totally soaked. His hands cup your breasts and he squeezes them gently while looking at you, your head digs into the pillows, a moan escapes your lips and Jungkook can’t help but do the same. His hips move tentatively, his cock rubs against the lace and the pressure gets to your clit. Your moan makes him whimper, your voice so sweet that it makes him repeat his movements. He can feel the outline of your lips from your panties and it’s fucking killing him.
«Fucking panties» he hisses, somehow making you laugh.
«Mh, what?» he smiles at you, his cock still brushing against your throbbing clit. You bite your lips.
«Nothing, just you» you shake your head. The pleasure is so good. Jungkook keeps smiling as he kisses the tip of your nose.
«Me what?» he asks, his fingers get under the strap of your bra, he pushes it down on your shoulder. 
«Just you,» you smile «I don’t know» 
He’s so fucking happy. 
«Am I funny to you?» he bumps his nose against yours. His movements are slow and controlled, his thighs glued to the back of yours, eyes right deep into yours. He moves his hand under your back, his fingers fumble with the opening of your bra.
«Sometimes» you laugh, cupping his cheek. You kiss him sweetly, Jungkook smiles on your lips as he lifts the bra from your chest, he guides the straps down your shoulders and your arms until he lets it fall on the ground. He pecks your lips once more, finally fondles your breast with his hand. Your nipples are hard and he wants to tease them until you squirm under him. His cock jerks when you moan under him, the pads of his fingers brushing against them. 
«Kook» you whimper. He kisses your neck all the way down to your chest, his lips lock around the pebble of your nipple as he teases the other with his fingers. Your back arches, mouth opens. 
«Feels so good» you breathe. He flicks his tongue repeatedly, sucks lightly as he ruts his cock up and down on your clit. Your legs tremble, he lets go of your nipple and takes the other in his mouth. It feels too good.
«Fuck» 
His hand travels on your stomach, his fingers pass your hip and reach the inside of your tights to caress it softly, tickling your skin until he presses his cock against you with his palm, his cockhead heavy on your clit. You squirm under him as he kisses your neck, his moans fill up your ears as he works his cockhead on it.
«Tell me you’re mine» he nuzzles his face into your skin. His balls are so tight he could cum right now.
«Jungkook, I’m going to-» you can’t even speak, you’re so close your blood is running hot in your veins. The pleasure it’s too much, it keeps building up and you just want to succumb.
«I’m yours» 
«Only for me» he grunts.
He parts his cock from your pussy. You want to ask why but a second later his fingers link around the hem of your panties and he pushes them down onto your thighs and over your knees until they pass your ankles and get lost in the room. The need to take a good look at your wetness stops him from pushing his cock back to where it was. He stares down at your lips, parts them with his fingers and fuck, he wants a taste. Your juices are leaking out from your hole so deliciously that he can’t hold back and gathers them with his thumb. 
«So fucking wet» he praises. 
His lips wrap around his thumb, sucking on it and tasting you, his cock twitches as it stands angrily. You taste so sweet, so delicious for him that he promises himself he’s going to make you cum like this tonight, eat every drop, swallow all your sweetness. And then start all over again.
«Wanna be the only one who gets to taste your beautiful pussy» 
Your hands grab his wrist on your leg as you nod.
«I promise» you whisper.
Jungkook lays on top of you again, he lets his wet thumb brush against your nipple as he his cock parts your lips and slides back between them. Your folds feels so good against him, the sensation makes him bite on his lips as he suppresses a loud moan. Your nails dig into his back as you look at his face, so fucking beautiful. It’s paradoxical how you think he looks like an angel when his cock it’s sliding against you so agonisingly.
«I want you to cum like this» he breathes.
He pushes his cockhead against your clit, rubs it in circular motions and then up and down, from side to side. Your juices mix with his precum, it’s so fucking wet that your juices drip on his sheets. He wants them to smell like you, to remember the way you smell when you’re working and he’s waiting for you at home, wants your juices to fucking claim his sheets. 
«Can you do it? Cum all over my cockhead, baby. Do it for me»
Fuck, how couldn’t you. It’s too much. Especially when he’s asking you like this, looking at you like you’re the essence of his world. 
You nod quickly, your chest raises up and down at a torturing pace and Jungkook can’t take his eyes off of you. He loves you so fucking much, you’re his. Fucking his.
«I’m- fuck, I’m going to cum» 
«Me too, baby. Cum with me?» he sweetly brushes a strand of your hair behind your ear, he kisses your cheek with such tenderness and sincerity and your heart just can’t process it. It explodes in your chest, your legs shake and suddenly you’re whimpering and squeezing your eyes shut, your head digs into his pillows, your walls tighten. Jungkook grunts, pushing all the length of his cock against your folds and wrapping you closer to him in his arms. He cums so hard that his head falls on your chest, his moans muffled against your skin. His cock jerks, his cum wets your stomach and drips down your thighs and onto the sheets, a bit of it on his abdomen and chest too as he lets himself lay on top of you. 
It’s blissful, the way your fingers stroke his hair as he breathes harsly, he feels his heart pound and his insides melt. You stay silent, look at him just laying in your arms. You never felt so light, so free as now. Love can be blind, so blind that something so special had to wait all this time to finally be seen; all these years and your souls intertwined in every way possible, the roots of your plants were always in the same pot. You were so used to his presence and his leaves that you didn’t realise how much soil you shared, how deeply were intertwined your roots, how they held each other up with such tenderness and love. You want to see his flowers, want to share your water with him, you want to bloom and wilt with him, you want it all. 
«I love you» 
You caress his cheek even though you can’t see them, his eyelashes flutter against your chest and he raises his face to look at you, then rests again on top of you.
«I love you too» he answers. A big smile. Starry eyes, rosy cheeks, messy hair, totally love drunk. And you couldn’t love it more. You pinch the apple of his cheeks, he scrunches his nose and pouts his lips. 
You feel attacked, seriously.
«Why are you so cute?» you whine. His giggles fill the room as he gets up. He lays beside you, wraps his arms around you and squeezes.
«I want to spoon you» his fingertips dig into your hips as he kisses your shoulder. You huff contently, turning around. His legs intertwine with yours and Jungkook rests his head in the space between your shoulder and neck, his chest tight against you.
«Are you comfortable?» he pecks your cheek. It’s perfect.
You nod and shut your eyes, lingering in the feeling of the moment. 
«Don’t sleep» he whines, pinches your hip.
«I haven’t finished with you yet» 
«What? I’m tired» you laugh. You really aren’t, but you like to tease him. Your eyes open, head turns slightly to look at his eyebrows furrowing as he frowns. 
«It’s not true» he blubbers. Fuck, how can he look so adorable in such a situation? All naked, tight against you.
«It is,» you pout back «I’m really tired» you fake a yawn. His head falls on the pillow. 
You stay still for a little, then decide that you want to look at his pretty face. He wails as you turn around, clearly not okay with it.
«Let me spoon you at least»
«Wanna look at your pretty face» you puff at him. His body relaxes and when you turn around the view hits you like a truck on a highway. His hair are messy, long strands following sweetly the roundness of his cheek as he stares at you. His eyes are round, doe-like, incredibly profound they capture the light of the room and exhibit it perfectly, stars scattered across their skies. His lips are red, and it’s because of you. You caress his cheek, brush the strands away. He smiles largely, his hand grazes the back of yours and squeezes it, his other one behind your back so sweetly that you melt. 
«You can fall asleep on my chest» he murmurs. You shake your head.
«I was just teasing you,» you giggle «don’t wanna sleep now» 
He huffs, faking annoyance but it’s just really endearment.
You graze his chest with your fingers, tickle him with the nails as you slowly move up and down. His cock is still hard, the tip red. 
«You’re… you’re still hard» you breathe. 
Jungkook looks at you, the way your eyes stare at his cock on his abdomen, a big smile stretching on his lips as his cheeks grow a little reddish.
«Can’t help it baby,» he simply says «it’s what you do to me» 
He doesn’t lead the conversation anywhere else, as if he doesn’t intend to do anything about it, a dreamy sigh leaving his lips. He stares at you in awe, he can’t believe he gets to do this. In his arms, you naked and relaxed, laying down to stay. You don’t get up to leave his mattress and go back to just being friends, close but not close enough, a heartbeat away. Laying with you feels ecstatic. It’s the forbidden fruit, the one he always craved for; the intimacy of it, being in your rawest states and still trusting each other in such a profound way, getting to see each others fully in every way possible, physically, emotionally. 
«Love» you whisper. His big eyes look straight at you, his heart stumbles in his chest. 
«Last time… you called me love»
«I… couldn’t hold back» he shakes his head, nuzzling into you. 
«It felt different from the times before, it was…»
«I was making love to you» he mumbles. The way he clings his chin to the fist of his hand on the pillow right after makes your stomach clench. The silence creates a foggy haze in the room, but you still see each other clearly. He must’ve hurt so much, for so long. You want to make him smile. You want to reassure him, make him feel loved just as he did to you that day. 
«My baby» you whisper, leaving a peck on the tip of his nose. He scrunches it and smiles big at you.
«Let me do the same- » you kiss his lips and although the intention was to go for just a peck Jungkook’s lips keep you attached to him like a magnet «and make you feel good?» 
«Mmph…» he moans as soon as your hand reaches the base of his cock. You feel it twitch, watch it as it gets even harder in your hand. Jungkook gulps, shuffling on the mattress to get comfortable. The view of your pretty little hand around him makes him longing, yearning to have you all over him. He doesn’t even have to wait after cuming already, he knows he could be ready for you right now. And when you stroke him, oh god, the sound he makes… you wish you could record it and play it all over again and again. 
He folds his arms, rests on the back of them to look at the view properly, head up and chest raising roughly.
«Fuck, I love it» he hisses. You lick your lips, get closer to him on your side as you let your hand pull his foreskin back, his cockhead furious and leaking precum already. 
«You like it?» you coo. He looks at you, your lips wet and your eyes gawking at him. You make him powerless just by doing nothing. Your thumb touches his slit.
«Shit, yes» he moans.
«Love it, I love it» 
You smile at him. Jungkook can’t take his eyes off your face and your hand, not even for a second. When you gather his precum and stroke it all over his cockhead he breathes hard and suddenly he craves for a taste of you. His chin points at you, lips pouting as his cock pulses in your hand.
You peck his lips, tighten your hand around him and twist your wrist. He moans loudly, his head falls back. 
«Fuck» he cries. 
«You’re so beautiful» you whisper. 
«Want you to feel so good» 
He nods lazily, his eyes shut. Your hand is… perfect. Just perfect. It makes him thaw under you, for you, until he’s just whining and moaning, totally lost.
«You- nnngh- you do» 
You push his hair behind his ears, you don’t think you’ve ever felt this feeling. This kind of excitement while doing something for someone else, only for him. This part of you is his, tied and bound to his soul.
«All the time» he shivers.
«Every fucking time you- fuck» his moan is high pitched, desperate. He’s losing his mind, it’s too much when you stroke his cock and have your pretty eyes looking at him so sweetly, holding all the love he always wished to get from you. It’s too much, and he just wants to explode.
«Every fucking time, you don’t even realise,» he shakes his head «you- you just, fuck I love you» 
It’s brutal, how he takes your face in his palm and pushes your lips onto his, brutal for your heart. Such a crook.
The kiss is messy, sloppy, totally heedless. He just wants you close, it’s just for the sake of feeling you more, and it makes you so wet you feel your juices drip down your asshole.
«Love you- so fucking much» he whines. You kiss him more, stroke his cock until his balls are tight and Jungkook is squirming on the bed, his sounds creating the perfect melody for your ears, his pleasure skyrocketing until he just knows he has to stop you. 
His hand wraps around yours, stopping your movements. 
«Want you,» he hisses «wanna cum inside you while I feel you close» you couldn’t resist such a plea even if you wanted to. 
You smile at him and nod, your skin is on fire just at the thought of it. Jungkook’s hand tickles your side as it descends on your hip, his digits dig into your skin. He goes to sit up but you stop him with your hand on his chest. 
«Huh?» he hums puzzled, his lips forming an “o” and his eyebrows high.
«Let me» you smile. Fuck, he feels like cuming already.
«Let me take care of you» you whisper. Jungkook hisses as he lays back down, soft strands of hair spread on the pillow and starry eyes look at you while you straddle him. He doesn’t know if you resemble more an angel or the devil himself with your love surrounding him and your dangerous touch, but maybe you’re the collision of both. 
You lay down to kiss his lips, a soft and gentle kiss that makes him yearn even more just because it’s ohso lovely. 
He must’ve been blessed, cause when you let your hips grind against him and he feels the warmth of your core he feels like he’s in heaven. Maybe you’re an angel, most definitely the prettiest of all. 
Your lips feels so fucking good that his cock jerks and he has to hold back himself from cuming.
«Fuck, wait-» he hisses. 
«I don’t think I can- I need to desensitise a bit or I- I’ll cum» 
You stop your movements and lean down to kiss him some more. You caress his cheek, Jungkook’s arm can’t help but keep you close and tight against him. Your soft breasts feel so good against the hardness of his chest, your hair hanging down from the side of your face. His hand squeezes your asscheek and a cheeky grin appears on his face.
«Feels so good to get to do this» he pipes. 
«You used to do that before too» you snigger and he squeezes your flesh once more.
«Only in bed» he laughs. You shake your head and pinch his right nipple lightly, watching as he keens and brings his hand to cover the injured part.
«Why?» he whines with his eyes closed. You lay down and kiss the tip of his nose.
«I get to do this too» you coo. He sighs deeply and glares at you, lips pouty.
«You used to do this before too» he murmurs. You smile at him.
«Not in bed? I should’ve and could’ve but I didn’t. I had to try» 
«Fuck, you’re so annoying» he groans even though a big smile is already stretching on his lips. It’s beautiful how the change of your relationship didn’t change the way you act around each other, the same old habits and teases. 
«Should I kiss it for you?» you laugh. Jungkook peeks at you from his half lidded eyes.
«Do I get to kiss your ass when I’m outside of bed?» 
Your laugh fills the room, the apples of your cheeks full. He pushes you onto him, his hand coming to your face, he kisses your lips, pecks your nose and your cheeks, your forehead too. Silence spread in the air as he pours his love onto you with caresses and little sighs, totally rapturous.
You kiss his neck, his clavicles, his shoulders and his pecs, lick on his nipple. Jungkook squirms under you and a second later you’re… kissing it. He laughs out loud, his giggles are high pitched and he scrunches his nose as he lets his head fall back on the pillow. So fucking cute, you think. You want to keep him in your pocket and never let go.
«Are we ready to go?» you giggle as he still laughs. Jungkook nods, eyes bright. His bangs are messy and you take some time to brush them with your fingers as his chuckles summer down. 
«It’s gonna be messy again, come on» he whines. 
«So impatient,» you sigh «let me make my baby pretty» you coo. Jungkook whines again.
«Please,» he strokes your back «wanna be inside you» 
«Mmh, ‘kay baby» you hum against his lips. You nuzzle your nose into his neck, blow on it just to hear the sound of his humming when he shudders under you as you take a hold of the base of his cock. He’s so hard that you let out a dreamy sigh, totally in love with the feeling of him in your hand. Jungkook’s hips stutter up, his cheeks paint of red when his eyes meet you and you wonder if it’s just the warmth of the room or your effect on him.
Your core brushes against him and he releases a soft yearning hum. You sit up, breast on full sight and eyes on him as you push yourself onto him. It’s so fucking wet and tight and delicious that he doesn’t ever want to leave your pussy. Fuck, he’d spend every second of the day inside you if he could. 
«So tight» he moans. You slowly fill yourself up with him, he grabs your breasts and squeezes them, fumbles your soft flesh as you start to move unrushed. You’re so beautiful on top of him, so pretty. All for him and him only. 
«Talk to me» Jungkook wants to hear your words as you ride him. The position is totally new to the both of you but fuck, it feels perfect. He fills you up so good that your walls pulsate all around him, getting to see him under you with his big dark eyes on your face makes you want to spoil him in all the love he showered you with the last time and even more, you want him to feel totally engulfed by it, from how much you love him. 
«Love it, I love your cock» you moan. You put your weight on your hands on the bed, leaning back a little as his cock hits the perfect spot inside you. Jungkook pinches your nipple, your breasts look so good that he wishes he could kiss your skin. He watches them bounce with every move, feels his cock throb and leak precum inside you. It’s so fucking wet, your juices mixed together and god, the sounds you make could make him crazy.
«How much?» he hisses. You bite your lips.
«So much baby» you whine. His hand reaches your clit, he rubs it gently with his thumb and looks at your face. His heart pounds wildly, you turn him on so much that he has to restrain himself every time. However, now he wants you close and even though he’s loving the way you’re taking him so good, your body is too far for him. 
«Love» he calls out putting both of his hands on your hips and staring up at you. You look down at him, his skin is a bit sweaty and his lips red from all the kisses you shared. Jungkook sits up.
«Want you closer, please» he maffles. 
«Let me open my legs so I can hold you» 
You let his cock pull out, the loss of contact makes you grimace and Jungkook smiles endeared as he pinches your cheek. He opens his thighs, his cock stands proud against his abdomen, so pretty. He guides you onto him, your thighs over his and your pussy back on him. His hands grab the flesh of your ass, his face hides in the crook of your neck and he breathes in your scent as you take him back into your heaven. Like this, he thinks he could die happily. Fuck, so close and perfect. The contact of your skin makes him breathless, the feeling of you all over him, so tight that not a single inch isn’t against him. The way you hug his cock makes his head spin, how you grind your hips into him and dig your nails into his back. Your moans in his ears, he captures every single and makes sure that the next one comes out because you’re feeling even better. He rubs your clit, sucks your nipples, kisses your neck, keeps you close until your sweats mix and all he can do is breathe you in.
«You’re perfect» you whisper. His heart trembles, all the defences he had to put on for all these years without even realising are down on the floor, totally scattered in pieces. They burn into ashes, fire takes over them completely until there’s nothing left but haze, and then there’s you. You on top of him, you under him, you on his lips, you in his mind, just you. You’re everywhere, part of him. 
«I was so stupid-» you hiss as he kisses your cheek «fuck, how could I not see it?» 
His nose nuzzles into your cheek and he pecks your skin repeatedly, his thumb rubbing faster on your clit.
«Ssh, we’re- nngh fuck, we’re here now» he reassures.
«Never wanna leave you,» you mumble «never» 
Jungkook feels like crying suddenly. There’s a knot in his throat that tastes like pain, like all the tears he shed and every night he spent thinking about you. All the worry that he felt when you weren’t with him, the feeling of loveliness without you by his side, the feeling of not being enough to be seen, to be considered as more. It all gets back to him and his eyes burn, his vision becomes foggy, his breath ragged for the pleasure of having you here. 
«Baby,» he whines «feel like crying» his voice trembles. 
You stop your movements, totally focus on him. Jungkook shakes his head though, pushes you onto him more to make you keep going.
«Just make love to me» he whispers. 
«I still can’t- still can’t believe you’re mine» 
«I’m yours» you don’t wait a second more to let it out. You watch him beam with his eyes glossy and can’t help but kiss him. You kiss all of his worries away, every single one. As you make love to him so sweetly, they all melt. He cries, salty tears mix with your kisses, your hands dry them and you kiss the path they walked on. You spoil him with your touch, your caresses, even your breath on his skin. Jungkook can’t even speak properly from the feeling in his chest. 
«I love you, love»
«Fuck, oh god- call me that again» he moans. He lets his head fall back as you keep moving, the expanse of his neck displayed for you. You let your hand trace it and then do the same for his chest, rub his nipples and hear him moan.
«My love» you repeat, breath rough.
«Mine, you’re mine»
«Fuck yes,» he whimpers «yours baby» 
You want to make him cum. You want to see him shake in pleasure and contract his abs, you want everything he can give and more. Your hand travels farther down, Jungkook squeezes your ass again as he feels your touch graze his skin until you get to his balls. They’re wet with your juices, so tight and full of cum for you. He moans loudly, his mouth attaches your neck as you caress them sweetly in your hand. Your touch is so gentle and his cock feels so fucking good, his body feels like levitating from how much you’re giving him. It’s too much to hold back.
«God, you’re- you’re going to make me-» he howls «cum» he shudders.
You kiss him deeply, your tongues in each others mouth and your eyes closed, foreheads touching and hearts glued to each other. 
«Cum for me» you breathe on his lips.
«Cum inside me, show me how you cum for me, love» 
His eyes open, eyebrows furrow as he moans. You kiss him more, spoil him totally. You whisper how much you love him, how good he feels inside you, how beautiful he is. Until it’s fucking unbearable, his cock twitches and all he can do is let go. Jungkook groans, digs his nose into your neck in such a desperate way that you feel your heart being wrapped tightly and squeezed almost to the point that you can’t breathe anymore, his whimpers come out muffled on your skin, his cum filling you up totally as you keep moving on top of him and in his hold. You cum with his moans in you ears as you milk him dry, the room spinning and your legs shaking. You collapse in his arms, feel him sob in your hold. Even when you don’t realise it you kiss his hair, stroke his back as your body feels light and wobbly, totally lost in its high. You cup his cheeks and peck his lips, the mole right under, the one on his nose, his forehead. Jungkook never wants to let go. 
«Cuddles» he murmurs on your neck right after, hiding from the world. You nod lazily, his cock still inside you. 
It’s weird, the roads that love takes and the path it walks onto. It’s odd, how it can blossom without asking for permission, how it grows and spreads, takes over everything it finds on its way. It’s beautiful, how Jungkook clings onto you like you’re love itself and you do the same for him, roots intertwined and shared soil in the same pot, one soul fixed together with pieces of each other, like it’s always been. Since you were sixteen and he was nineteen, for all these years. And for many more to come
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Read more about Closer here: Closer: Too Close (Teaser)
Read my other works here: Masterlist
Taglist: @p-i-e-d-p-i-p-e-r, @kaitlynlovesbm, @bytheinaya, @jub-jub, @taolucha, @minayas1998, @seoulrenebae-blog, @ppeachyttae, @gluk97, @jk97bam, @diorh0seokie, @gwsjungkookie, @moonlikemeh, @skzthinker, @eyssdumpie, @sleepy-sae, @jjkw-7, @singularityjes, @vvicaddiction, @kimchijeonjk @jungkookieeee97
2K notes · View notes
arionawrites · 5 months
Text
‘dont tag byler if its not byler’ ‘dont tag noah if its anti noah’ ‘if its not stranger things dont tag stranger things’ oh my god?? literally shut the fuck up.
i know that’s usually like a rule in fandom spaces, i’ve been in fandom spaces since i was 12, trust me i’m aware, but that shit applies to like. stupid ship discourse. “i don’t like this ship because it doesn’t fit with MY favorite ship so i’m going to complain about it in the tag for the ship i don’t like” <- that’s shitty
but this isn’t fucking fandom discourse. this is literally supporting the slaughter of an entire people. this is noah schnapp in a video with stickers saying zionism is sexy. this is shawn levy supporting israel and illegal occupation. this is SHOULD BE IN THE TAGS.
why? because these people should not be getting support! this show should not be getting support!
noah schnapp wants palestinians to die. let’s be very clear about that. let me say it again:
noah schnapp wants palestinians to die.
i hope st5 fails. i hope noah schnapp loses his job. i hope shawn levy never knows peace. i hope every single person on that show who supports israel never goes a day without being haunted by the thousands of dead kids they supported the slaughter of.
i hope the sets for stranger things burn down. i hope noah schnapp can never go a day without being called a piece of shit. a supporter of genocide. a racist.
because that is exactly what he is.
i hope these people’s names are forever tied to these beliefs. i hope stranger things goes down in history as that one show that those zionists were on. i hope noah schnapp can never google his name without being confronted with how much of a monster he is.
“but he’s young! he’s jewish! he’s scared!”
he’s NINETEEN with FULL ACCESS TO THE INTERNET and ACTIVELY ATTENDING COLLEGE.
he isn’t posting about JUDAISM he is LITERALLY PASSING OUT STICKERS SAYING ZIONISM IS SEXY
and he sure as FUCK does NOT seem scared in ANY of the posts he has made since sharing that shitty multi page statement on his instagram that HE DIDN’T EVEN WRITE!! HIS FUCKING FELLOW ZIONIST PIECE OF SHIT FRIEND WROTE IT AND HE POSTED IT!! if HE was scared maybe he’d use his own words to say so, but nope!! he’s just a massive fucking cunt scumbag just like every other zionist and every other person who is doing anything other than condemning the actions of israel and the people who support it
rot in hell, stranger things. and take noah with you.
739 notes · View notes
sansaorgana · 12 days
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Can you do a buck x reader where she’s a nurse and takes care of everyone at the 100 and they all think she’s just perfect and a mother figure while all the soldiers are away from that mother figure and one day she like snaps when having to deal with screaming soldiers and she goes up to one the higher power guys and like cussing them out for constant sending the men into a death trap and her having to pick up the pieces and buck has to hold her back while she’s just screaming at the other guy and everyone else is like 🧍
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hello, thank you for your request! 🧡 I've just realised that none of my previous Readers in the stories with Buck were nurses lol 😷 most likely because I can't even imagine myself as a nurse and writing about all these things is enough to make me feel sick 🤣 but because of this, it was easy to write this story where the Reader is at her breaking point lol proceed with caution because there are ugly descriptions of blood, needles, death etc.
also this gif asdfghjkl I swear, in the story he has more compassion towards the Reader 🤣🤣🤣
my inbox is open for blurb/short fic requests for major cleven 🤗
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You thought you could do it. When the war had started, you hadn’t thought twice as you had signed up to help. Real help. No paperwork or coffee making. You had wanted to become a nurse.
The physical aspect of your job was not that difficult. You knew what to do in most situations and you had learnt how to stop frowning at the physiological body functions. It was the emotional aspect of the job that no one had prepared you for.
Sometimes the boys would come back from the air battles with nothing but mere scratches. They would still come by just to spend time with you and let your gentle, skilled hands to patch them up as they were telling you stories.
Sometimes the same boys would not come back from their next mission and the stories they had told were all that was left of them. You would cherish them in your heart forever.
Sometimes the boys would come back burnt, with half of their faces blown out or their guts bleeding all over the floor. Their screams of pain would haunt you later at night. Those were your boys.
Perhaps that was why you were everyone's favourite nurse. You were getting attached to them so easily, treating everyone as a friend, offering them a loving hug when they needed it, listening to their stories, helping them to write letters to their mothers and girlfriends or children. You were a good spirit of the base and one of the planes was named after you. So far it still hadn’t gone down and everyone treated it as a sign that you were their guardian angel indeed.
You didn’t see yourself as a guardian angel. If you had to stay within the religious imagery examples, you’d rather describe yourself as a mater dolorosa – lady of sorrows watching her son’s suffering and not being able to help him.
Sometimes they would die in your arms. Still, it was better than to die in a burning plane. Better for them. Not for you.
Today was a day of a very difficult mission. Most of the planes hadn’t come back at all. And the ones who had, were full of men screaming in agony and pain. You were barely able to hold it all together when they were reaching their hands out for you as if your touch would heal them. But it wouldn’t. It couldn’t, no matter how much you wanted it.
“(Y/N), you should take a break…” Your friend put her hand on your shoulder. You were exhausted indeed. You were working for three hours straight without sitting down for one second and you were running around from one bed to another. “Go, rest,” she insisted but you shook your head and went back to work.
Only when you noticed that your hands were shaking so much that you weren’t able to inject a needle into a vein properly, you decided to take a break indeed. You didn’t want to cause even more damage by trying too hard.
But before leaving the sickbay you wanted to check on one of the young pilots. He was nineteen years old, it had been his first mission and you remembered how excited he had been about it. Now he was laying on one of the beds, barely breathing as his chest was burnt and lungs damaged.
You were approaching his bed and your heart sank to your chest at the sight of the doctor putting a white sheet over his face.
“Wh-what… What are you doing to Johnson, sir?” You asked.
“I’m sorry, (Y/N),” the doctor shook his head. “He’s just passed away.”
You just stood there with your lips slightly parted. Johnson was just another surname on the list of all these boys you would never forget about. But Johnson was special. He was the youngest you had known. He couldn’t stop talking about his mother and little sister, about his dog and his girlfriend waiting for him back in Alabama.
Your sadness overtook your whole body and then it developed into an anger so big that you felt as if you were about to explode and bring down the whole base.
“Son of a bitch…” You breathed out angrily as you stormed out of the sickbay without even taking your apron off. It was full of blood but you did not care.
You walked down the corridor with murder in your eyes, making everyone step out of the way. And you entered the Colonel’s office without knocking, so loudly and rapidly that all the men inside startled.
“Miss?” Colonel Harding asked as he was sitting behind his desk and showing some sort of a map to a few Majors.
One of them was Major Cleven. He hadn’t been up in the air on that day but he would be tomorrow. And was the one you had befriended the most. But even his presence couldn’t stop your rage at that moment.
“You can’t just keep sending them to die, Colonel!” You clenched your fists and approached the desk as the men watched with big eyes. “Look! Look, Colonel! Look!” You showed him your bloody hands and your apron. “Why is it me with their blood and guts all over me? While you’re just sitting here, planning…” You gave the map a very angry look. You wanted to tear it apart and you were shaking to stop yourself from doing so. “You’re sending them to death, all of them, they’re just boys! Johnson was nineteen years old! Do you even know who he was? Or was he just another number to you?!”
“(Y/N), calm down, let’s take you outside…” Buck approached you carefully but you moved away.
“No! I will not be silenced. I have things to say and I will say them!” You snapped at him and he froze. You laid your eyes back on the surprised Colonel again. “You just sit here and plan how to send them to death more efficiently. You men… Can’t you see how stupid this whole war is? How stupid every war is? And just because some brilliant engineers constructed planes, doesn’t mean they should be used to kill people!”
“Miss…” Colonel furrowed his brow, “Miss I-Don’t-Know-Your-Name, are you done?”
“You son of a bitch!” You banged your bloody fists on his desk and his stupid map got covered with blood. “You don’t even know my name. But I am the one to patch them up and hold their hand when they’re dying after you sent them to death. God damn you, Colonel Harding! You and all the Generals that you serve! God damn Hitler, God damn Churchill and God damn your fucking President Roosevelt!”
“(Y/N), please,” Buck’s strong hands pulled you away. “I’m sorry, Colonel. She’s all shook up,” he tried to explain your behaviour as you started sobbing when the anger had finally left your body. You hid your face in his uniform and allowed him to put his arm around you. “I’ll take her outside.”
“Yeah, you better do it, son,” Colonel nodded at him. Buck started to walk you out slowly and carefully as you heard Colonel’s voice while you were walking out of the door. “Poor girl… She needs a free weekend.”
Buck took you outside and watched you worryingly as you were catching your breath back and trying to calm yourself down, wiping the tears off of your face with the palms of your bloody hands.
“Here, let me,” he took out a handkerchief and wiped your face with it gently. “Gee, (Y/N), what was that?”
“I… I don’t know… I just can’t… I can’t do it anymore, Buck… That boy, Johnson, he was nineteen… Nineteen, for God’s sake,” you sniffed your tears back and looked into his eyes as your lips trembled. “He was telling me stories about his mum and little sister… His dog and his girlfriend… And now… And now he’s gone. Just like that. His lungs were burnt. Every breath was agony…” You tried to explain, still shaking.
“You really need a free weekend,” Buck pointed out and brought you closer to give you another hug.
It felt good to be in his arms. It was comforting. But you were scared to admit to yourself that you indeed liked him more than just a friend. Because if he would go down tomorrow or any other day, it would hurt even more.
“I can’t… I can’t leave my boys…” You took a step back to look at his face again. “And… And I can’t just take a free weekend. It would feel wrong. When you boys are up in the air, so brave and so heroic. All I can do is patch you up later. I can’t give up, no…”
“We all need a break sometimes. Hey,” Buck raised your chin up with his finger, “promise me that you’ll take a free weekend.”
“Aren’t you on a mission this weekend?” You asked.
“Yeah.”
“Then no way, Buck,” you shook your head. “I have to be here to patch you up,” you smiled through the tears.
“There are other nurses ‘round here,” he pointed out with a soft smile.
“I don’t want them to touch you,” you admitted suddenly as your cheeks heated up.
Why the hell had you said that…?
“They don’t know how to patch you up properly, I mean…” You tried to explain yourself quickly. “Only I know how to–”
But he didn’t let you finish. He leaned in very carefully and placed a gentle kiss upon your lips. You were stunned.
“I know what you mean, sweetheart,” he teased after finally breaking the kiss and caressing your cheek with his thumb. “I promise I won’t get a single scratch when you’re not around.”
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cleoluvrr · 8 months
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Smarty II (Rafe Cameron x OC)
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SYNOPSIS: smart girl isn’t as smart as rafe cameron.
WARNINGS: mature content; dark!rafe, toxic relationship, domestic violence, verbal abuse, blackmail, jealousy, general violence, manipulative behavior, explicit language, substance abuse & addiction, use of guns, mentions of past crimes, obsession, controlling behavior, pouge!oc
masterlist
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I remember the first time Rafe Cameron hit me.
It was a couple days after my eighteenth birthday, the two of us alone at Tannyhill. I hadn’t spoken to him in those days out of irritation, the memory of my birthday ending in disaster haunting me every time I closed my eyes.
Rafe threw me a big party at one of his father’s empty properties, the unused house filled with teens and young adults, drinking and singing along to music of my choosing. There was a table stacked with gifts from both friends and strangers alike, the phrase “happy birthday” was imprinted into my mind from the countless times I heard it that night.
I wore a pretty, pink dress–one that Rafe bought me specifically for that day. He told me I looked like a princess, and that was all the convincing I needed to put it on.
Rafe was supposed to drive me home that night after the party died down. He was supposed to kiss me sweetly on my doorstep before I went inside and tell me how beautiful I am.
Instead, he drove us deep into the Cut, claiming that he needed to run a quick errand before he dropped me off. I already knew where we were going–he had taken me plenty of times before–and it annoyed me greatly.
He was already high enough, his blown out pupils and constant sniffing the only evidence I needed to know. The fact that his priority was going to his drug dealer’s house made me upset, and I let him know that.
Rafe was irrational when he was high, but I didn’t think he would kick me out of his car and leave me stranded at the house of the guy that supplied his blow. 
It was dark out, the moon high in the sky as the night stretched on. All of my friends were drunk off their ass, my parents were asleep, and there were no car services running in that area at two in the morning. My boyfriend was long gone and despite the offer, I refused to get in a car with the man that sold drugs to teenagers for a living.
It was a relief when Kelce pulled up to me on the side of the road that night. I don’t remember how long I had been walking, but I do remember how grateful I was.
I also remember how much I wished I just kept walking home instead.
“Go away, Rafe! You’re scaring me!” I yelled from behind the door. The wood vibrated against my back as the man on the other side beat against it with his fist, my heart jumping every time it connected with the surface I pressed myself against.
“Open this fucking door!” Rafe’s voice was loud and angry even through the thick wood of the old house. 
My heart nearly jumped out of my body when he shook the doorknob with a terrifying strength, the entire frame shaking violently as he pulled against it with what I’m sure is his entire body weight. My hand flew to my mouth to keep the fearful yelp from escaping my lips after I felt the force of his foot kicking against the door.
I felt like I was in a horror movie–like I was Wendy and Rafe was Jack. I could feel the eyes of the audience watching in horror as I hid in a room with my boyfriend on the other side out for my blood. 
The sound of the door frame splintering drew a scream out of me, one that I couldn’t hide as I flung myself off the door. There was nowhere I could hide from the blonde on the other side, the room bare of any hiding spots other than the long table in the center. I ran to the part of the room farthest from the door, eager to put as much distance between the pulsating door and I as possible.
I watched in horror as the door flew open a few yards away, the wood by the handle splintering as Rafe’s foot made contact. 
“Rafe, please!” I squeaked out when he caught my eye. The fuming nineteen-year-old ignores my pleads, long legs making record time as the long strides carry him to me. “Please! Just–just calm down!”
I moved around the table, nearly stumbling over my own feet as I held my arms out in defense against Rafe who was fast approaching. 
“You’re dead.” Rafe grits through his teeth. His finger raises to point at me as an aid to emphasize his point, the other hand shoving the chairs I moved to block his path back under the table carelessly. “You hear me? You’re fucking dead!”
Spotting the open door just a few feet away, I take a final glance at the man before making an attempt to bolt for it.
I knew I wasn’t fast enough–the move was quite predictable and I‘m sure Rafe saw it coming from a mile away. I barely took four steps towards the frame before I felt his fingers grip the back of my shirt, the movement jerking me backwards and right into Rafe’s arms.
I felt my body hit the wall shortly after, the hard surface colliding with my body leaving a sharp pain in my side and arm as I’m thrown against it disgracefully. I don’t get the chance to recover before I feel a familiar hand make contact with the side of my head and press it into the cool surface of the wall. My body shivers from the sudden change in temperature, cheek flat against the patterned surface as Rafe holds me there in a bone crushing grip. 
“You think I’m stupid? You thought I wouldn’t find out?” The blonde says into my ear roughly, the feeling of his breath brushing against my ear giving me goosebumps. I shook my head the best I could under his hold, wincing as he pressed my head harder into the wall.
“Rafe, it’s not like that–”
I feel Rafe’s fingers move from the side of my face and take home in the roots of my hair, nails scratching against my scalp as he grips the strands by the base. He yanks me away from the wall by the hair balled up in his fist and I yelp in pain. 
“Huh?” Rafe forces me to meet his gaze, eyes glaring down at me angrily. “It’s not like what? You weren’t texting my friend behind my back? I’m imagining shit now?”
“Yes!” The worse slipped out faster than I could stop it, regret immediately filling my body as I held my own hand over Rafe’s that has found home in my now tender scalp. “No, Rafe. You’re just–it’s just a misunderstanding!”
Rafe digs into the depths of his pocket, scoffing at me in disgust as he does so. He pulls out a phone; my phone. The pink case catches my attention immediately as he unlocks the device with my own scared face. 
He already knew the passcode, the action was just one to show his power over me in the moment.
I watch him silently school through my text messages as I tremble in his arms, struggling to hold myself up in the strange and uncomfortable position. The screen reflects off his blue eyes as he reads through my conversations, the concept of privacy no longer.
“‘Thanks for the help, Kelce. I really needed that.’” He reads off the text I sent to his friend late last night. His eyes flicker up to mine, the depths of them filled with jealous rage as he forces me to stare into them. “What the fuck were doing texting my friend at two in the morning?”
“I was texting him because you left me stranded in the Cut with your drug dealer at two in the fucking morning, Rafe!” I snapped at him, the fear quickly turning into anger and frustration as he accused me of doing anything else. “Not that you would remember; you were too coked out to care about anything but yourself.”
I should have left him right then, but I didn’t. And It was no surprise that it would continue to happen.
Instead, I sit behind these grand, white walls of Tannyhill, eyes glued to the picture frame on Rafe’s desk.
He was working silently in front of me, fingers making quick work of the keyboard as his own eyes flicker back and forth from the computer screen to the papers spread across the dark wood of the desk that was once his father’s.
I looked so happy in that pretty, pink dress. A smile that stretched a mile wide grazed my lips as Rafe embraced me from behind, a fond look in his eye as he looked down at my glowing face.
The memories of those days would flood my mind the moment I set eyes on this house, which is why I couldn’t stand being here. I couldn’t live a life in a house where I can remember every room I’ve been beaten and berated in during one of my boyfriend’s coke induced rages.
Sighing heavily, I tear my eyes away from the picture and lean back onto the firm couch I was seated in. I try to hide the wince caused by the sharpness in my side as I move, ribs flaring up in pain once again. 
Rafe does not take being disrespected lightly–not by anyone. I already knew that before I said what I did a few nights before, and I also knew the consequences. 
I shouldn’t have been surprised when I woke up just a few hours later with him standing over me, the darkness of his looming figure making my heart stop for just a few seconds before I realized it was him. I should have known he would show crossed on God-knows-what, the mixture of substances increasing his hostility tenfold.
I didn’t fight against it when he ripped me out of the bed with a fistful of my hair, or when he threw me against my dresser, the sharp corner digging to my side as I was shoved into the piece of furniture. Rafe is bigger than I am, his strength outmatches mine dangerously; there was simply no point. I didn't cry out for help when his calloused palm struck my face the first time, nor the second time. 
When he told me to apologize, I did. When he went through my wardrobe and ripped apart all the outfits I’d been scolded by him for wearing to work, I said nothing. I stood silently as I watched the ruined fabrics pile up on the ground in front of me. When he told me that I was lucky to have him because no one else would want a girl that dresses like a prostitute, I didn’t argue.
I didn’t resist it because it would only make things worse for me. It always did.
He kissed me goodnight and I kissed him back like nothing happened, the ache in my side burning hot as he traced the stinging skin of my cheek where his heavy hand met my face just a few moments before.
I used to fight back in the beginning. I would kick, bite, scratch, scream. I would threaten to leave if he did it again, to tell the police and give them all the evidence.
“Who would believe you?” Is what he told me, and he was right.
Who would believe some random, middle-class girl over Ward Cameron’s son? On what planet would Ward ever allow his family’s name to be tainted by his son being arrested for hitting his girlfriend?
The defeat I felt is something I still cannot describe.
“Laia?” I snapped out of my thoughts by the sound of Rafe’s voice. My eyes land on him behind the desk, a hum leaving my lips in response. “You okay?”
I nodded my head, afraid that I’d whimper in pain from the rib that is surely bruised by his own doing. I pulled my hand away from the sore spot slowly, teeth clenching together to keep my face expressionless. 
It doesn’t go unnoticed by my boyfriend, blue eyes flickering down to the hand that I’ve removed from my side and back up to my face. He says nothing for a moment, just allowing our eyes to hold each other tensely.
“Come here.”
I stare at him for a long few five seconds before moving, ribs screaming as I stand up from my seat on the leather couch. I walk over to the blonde behind the desk, awkwardly standing in front of him as I await further instruction.
Rafe reaches forward to place his hands on my waist, the warm prints of his fingers pressed firmly into the skin under my top as he pulls me closer. He angles me sideways slightly, hand moving to lift up my shirt. He just stares silently for a minute as he analyzes the bruise, eyes glued to the large spot spread over my skin.
I knew exactly what it looked like; I’d been staring at it for three days and watching it change color as the time passed. It was big and splotchy, a mixture of yellow, red, and purple in a somewhat rectangular shape displayed across my left rib cage. It was nasty, and I’m sure Rafe thought the same.
“Damn, baby…” He finally breaks the silence. “I did this?” He looks up at me, eyes meeting mine as he waits for an answer.
I nodded my head again.
Rafe drags his gaze back down to the bruise, a look of both awe and pity covering his face. I flinch when his fingers move to trance over the perimeter of the bruise, sucking in a sharp breath of both pain and surprise from the lack of warning. The hand that grips my waist tightens, keeping me still as he studies it closer. 
Leaning into me, he brings his face to my side. I feel his soft lips press into the discolored skin, a gentle kiss that leaves me breathless for a moment. The gesture was something he did often; sweet kisses to cover the bruises he leaves behind.
It was poetic almost–like a band-aid over a bullet hole, or a drop of water in a wilted garden.
“You know I love you,” Rafe pulls away slightly, eyes peeking up to stare into mine. “Right?”
“I love you, too.” The words leave my mouth quietly, the phrase feeling at home on my lips. 
The blonde leans back into the chair and pulls me with him, his once open lap now occupied by me as I’m given no choice but to sit. The hand that was used to trace over the ache in my side rises to my face, the same palm he used to strike me now cupping my cheek warmly, thumb stroking over the skin softly. 
I’m tempted to lean into the familiar feeling, but I don’t, instead sitting stiffly on his thighs as he caresses my face. 
“You know I don’t like doing that–I hate it.” I nod my head at him wordlessly, the sight of his striking, blue eyes leaving me unable to speak. “But you just don’t give me a choice. I just…You make me so angry sometimes, Laia. And–and you do it on purpose.” He looks at me with an expression of both exasperation and desperation, head shaking from side to side as he speaks.
He wasn’t wrong–sometimes I did make him mad on purpose. Never over anything serious, only things like calling his favorite show boring or saying his outfit didn’t match. Little things that we would laugh about later.
This wasn’t one of those times.
I nodded anyway, choosing to maintain my silence in place of verbal response. It was just easier to get through it that way.
“All of our actions have consequences, baby.” He continues on, the familiar phrase vibrating against my eardrums. “You knew better than to say that, but you did it anyway. Do you not respect me?”
“I do…” I say quietly, a defensive tone barely present in my voice. 
“So why would you think it’s okay to say something like that to me?”
I didn’t know how to respond to him truthfully without him getting angry again. I said it because that’s what I thought at that moment.
“I said I was sorry…” My eyes dropped from his gaze, instead choosing to hold contact with my own hands as they twitched nervously in my lap. “I just…you were calling me names, and–and it made me really mad because I didn’t do anything wrong!” My voice barely raised an octave, but it was still enough to convey my frustration. 
“You’re right.” Rafe nods his head at me in response. “You didn’t do anything wrong. You looked very beautiful in that outfit and it’s not your fault that other guys can’t keep their eyes off you. I was being mean and I’m sorry for that.”
Rafe traces over my lips with his thumb, the warm digit gently smoothing out the pout that had appeared on my face. 
“But it’s not safe for you to be dressed like that around a bunch of gross, strange men you don’t know all day. You haven’t heard the things they say about you, but I have. It makes me sick.” He says with concern.
I look at him confused, unsure of what he’s talking about. All my customers have been nothing but respectful towards me, the implication of them being anything else but that leaving me puzzled.
“It scares me to think about what could happen if I weren’t there to watch over you…I just want you to be safe. I know you think I’m hovering; I know you think it’s annoying and ‘controlling.’” Rafe’s worry seems to be genuine, the crease between his brows deepening as he looks up at me in his lap. “I know that. But how else am I supposed to make sure nothing bad happens to you?”
“I can take care of myself, Rafe.”
“I know you think that, Laia. I’m not saying that you can’t, either.” My boyfriend shakes his head at me as he speaks. “You’re a smart girl, but you don’t know everything. I’m a guy–I know how guys think. Sometimes I know better than you do, and sometimes you should listen to me. Okay?”
I say nothing for a moment. There was a slight tension in the air and I could feel his eyes on me.
My eyes remained fixated on the fingers in my lap, nails picking at each other mindlessly. My gaze is pulled away from the digits by Rafe’s knuckles underneath my chin, my eyes forced to keep contact with his instead as he awaits my response.
“Okay?” He repeats the word a second time, not accepting my silence as an answer.
“Okay.” I say quietly.
Rafe nods his head at me, the fingers keeping my chin in place moving to tuck a loose braid behind my ear.
“And I’m sorry I hurt you this bad; I should have been more careful.” He says, referring to the big, fat bruise hidden beneath my shirt. “I was high and I–I shouldn’t have come over when I was like that. I went too far.”
Rafe says that every time this happens. He always has an excuse, whether he’s sober or higher than the moon that lights our sky at night. But I always accept it.
Maybe I was stupid for that, but it would be a lie to say that I cared. 
He was remorseful every time, I could see that it hurt him to see the pain he caused me after he finally calmed down. He would always apologize, and I would accept it because I knew he was really sorry–even if I knew it would probably happen again. 
I loved him too much to leave. I’d been with him for almost four years; he was my first kiss, my first date, my first–and only–boyfriend. I promised myself to him, the diamond ring with our names engraved inside had been sitting heavy on my finger for two of those years. I helped him through his darkest moments; through his cocaine addiction, when he got kicked out of his house, when his dad died. I was there for all of it.
This relationship meant too much to me to let it go–Rafe meant too much to me. It’s why I allowed so many things that people say I shouldn’t, why I allowed myself to be treated in a way that would make me pity someone else if they were going through the same thing.
I was strong enough to handle it all, even if it left me feeling drained at the end of the day. To me, it was a small price to pay.
“I don’t like being so rough with you, but I feel like it’s the only way you’ll listen to me.” Rafe sounds disappointed, though I’m not sure if it’s in himself or in me. “I don’t like it, but if that’s what I have to do, then that’s what’s going to happen. Clearly, it’s working.”
Rafe’s eye’s trail down to my outfit, silently approving the choice. The big, pink sweater I found at the back of my closet was far from seasonal, but I needed something to cover the bruises that littered my arms and body. The plaid skirt I paired with it was something Rafe bought for me a few weeks ago; I chose it because I wouldn’t have to worry about him not liking it.
“My sweet girl…” He says softly. His strong arms wrap around me firmly, careful to avoid the spot that I’d been nursing all day. “You’re just so perfect for me.”
I allowed myself to melt into him, the stiffness of my body gone as I accepted his warm embrace.
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assortedseaglass · 3 months
Text
🌟Wintering | Yuletide🌟
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Tom Bennett x fem!Reader
Summary: The war is over and Tom Bennett returns home, seeking comfort in a friend from his past.
Content Warnings: Drabble, Language, Smut (p in v, oral!f receiving).
Yuletide Masterlist
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Wintering, verb. To hide, hibernate, seek comfort or rest, especially after turbulent times (in humans).
“Fuck,”
Your back was beginning to ache. You hadn’t given a moment’s thought as to where you were when you’d burst through the door. Just being at home, away from prying eyes, was enough. Now, the dado rail was bruising the base of your spine with every harsh thrust.
“Fuck,” he hissed again in your ear, immediately silencing himself by covering your mouth with his own. The warmth, the wetness, was delicious.
“Tom, please,” you whined into his mouth. Even through the dull pain in your back, your legs hooked around his waist ever tighter. At your plea he looked down at you, his hips still rolling lazily. When he saw the scrunch of your eyebrows, the sheen of sweat above them, and the way your lower lip pillowed as you bit down on it, Tom Bennett grinned.
He continued grinning as his hips began pistoning at an unholy pace into your wet heat. That wolfish smile was the last thing your saw as your eyes finally closed, too overwhelmed by pleasure to stay open, as you threw your head back against the wall. Bastard. He knew he was good.
You’d heard at the dancehall last night that the final battleship into port, the HMS Valiant, was due to arrive the following day at around 3 o’clock. You also knew, from working with Lois on the ambulances, that this was Tom’s ship. When Mrs Beatty and a few other ladies from your mother’s Women Institute suggested meeting the last of the lads to come home at the dock, the idea spread through your Manchester suburb like wildfire.
No sooner had your mother come home with the news were you being bustled onto the number 54 bus with a hamper laden with fresh clothes, bottles of beer, spam sandwiches and the little change that each family could spare. Old men, and women of all ages, piled into the buses and made their way to the docks. A few families still had bunting from the King’s jubilee and strung it from dockyard cranes.
The furore was extraordinary. The battleship was already looming large on the horizon when you all emptied from the bus, and young and old cheered themselves hoarse until the ship made its way into port. Sailors, forgetting regulations, leant over the ships’ railings and waved to family and friends. When the battleship finally docked, it let out a long blast of its horn and the crowed roared with glee. Mothers and sweethearts were already crying when the gangway was let down, and you saw that even some fathers were wiping their eyes.
You watched with relief as faces you recognised filed off the boat. Mr Martin’s only surviving son, thirty-eight and with three children who each ran into his arms. Frank Smith, the school bully’s rat-faced sidekick. The lad that worked at the corner shop, nineteen now, having received his papers the day he turned eighteen. Each was greeted by their family members and someone with a ‘welcome home’ hamper.
All, except one. Tom Bennett, one of the tallest lads on the boat, walked down the gangway in a few elegant strides and stopped on the dock with a sigh as he hitched his kitbag over his shoulder. He lifted his eyes to the sky, the October afternoon already darkening to a mournful blue.
As with the rest of the young men, the war had not been kind to him. Shadows haunted his slim face, prematurely aged from the horrors of a war none of them should have fought. At home, he was the stuff of legend. Survived the battle of River Plate, Dunkirk and went on the run in Europe, only to be sent back to war the moment he returned. More lives than the luckiest of cats, your mother said. The worst, of course, was the loss of his father and his home. The grief hit the Bennett children hard. Tom Bennett jumped onto the first battleship in dock, and Lois left baby Vera in England to go nursing in Africa. Now, Tom Bennett stood on the dock with no-one to welcome him home after six long years.
You hurried forward.
“Tom-” As though he knew you were there before you even spoke, he looked down from the sky to your flushed face.
Though he said your name quietly, a smile flashed across his boyish face. Your stomach somersaulted. He’d always been the handsomest rogue in Longsight, and still was with his blue eyes and sandy hair. At least there was one thing the war hadn’t taken away from him.
You held out the hamper. “Welcome home, Tom,” and with a sincere smile you stood on tiptoe to kiss his sallow cheek. A faint lipstick smudge lingered there and you smiled all the more.
“I’d be flattered,” Tom teased, gesturing to the hamper. “If every other Tom, Dick and Harry didn’t have one too.” He laughed as he took the hamper from you. His large palm covered your own and you shivered.
There was history there. Only a few pages, but history nonetheless. At once, you were transported back to the parish dance of 1935. Both seventeen, you as green as the grass, he already-world weary and wandering. He danced with no-one the entire night, though many a girl looked hopeful, yet took your hand for the last dance. When you thought about those innocent years before the war, in the darkest hours of the night or after a few too many sherries, you swore you could feel Tom’s hands burning against your waist, and at your neck as he kissed you. Your first.
Tom too, was remembering the first moment you touched him. A maths lesson with Miss Greene. He’d been caught flicking pencil sharpenings into girls’ hair and was sent to sit in the corner at the back of the class. You, as much a sweetheart then as you were now, were tasked with handing out textbooks. Unfortunately for you and luckily for Tom, they were on the shelf above where he sat. A cocky grin on his face, Tom didn’t move. He loved winding the girls up, and you were something different. At sixteen, you were curvier than the rest, and watching you flush pink was his favourite hobby. And so, he didn’t move. With pride, he chortled as you blushed and reached for the textbooks above him. His smug smile faltered however when, in order to reach the books, your legs came to rest on each side of his spread ones. With one of your thighs either side of his, he swallowed. He could feel the heat coming from the apex between them, smell your perfume and feel the way the soft flesh pressed against his. When you finally retrieved the books, it was your turn to smirk at the red flush peppering his cheekbones.
“Where are you staying, Tom, now your back?” You asked, voice low. Your mother was not far away.
“Bench in the pub, presumably. Most of the lads are heading that way for a party. Then I’ll find meself lodgings above some dodgy back-alley business.” He huffed a humourless laugh. You looked him directly in the eye.
“Stay out ours tonight.”
Tom leant close to you, wetting his lips. “What would mother say?”
“Don’t know, she’ll be down pub with the rest of them. Loves a sherry and a sailor.”
Half an hour later, you were pressed against the wall of your mother’s hallway, Tom Bennett lapping hungrily at your slick centre. Beneath your skirt and petticoat, the lewd sounds of his tongue against your wet sex filled the quiet evening.
Now, buried to the hilt within you, his swollen head bullying your core, Tom forgot the last seven months he’d spent living on the Valiant. Forgot the suffering of the last six years entirely. For between the softness of your thighs, the scent of your neck as he tucked his face against it tenderly, he’d found, if for a moment, the thing he’d been fighting for. Warmth, kindness, rest­. A place to winter.
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The usual suspects: @arcielee @targaryenrealnessdarling @theoneeyedprince @ewanmitchellcrumbs @ellrond @cyeco13 @babyblue711 @exitpursuedbyavulcan @humanpurposes @myfandomprompts @barbieaemond @anjelicawrites
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ilyluffy · 1 year
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✞ 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 || 𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭!𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧 𝐣𝐚𝐞𝐠𝐞𝐫 ✞
✞ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: ghost!eren jaeger x afab!reader
✞ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: smut {minors + ageless blogs dni!! you’ll be blocked}
✞ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: somnophilia, noncon to dubcon, pervy!eren, stalking/peeping, fingering, nipple play
✞ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 0.8k+
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𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍 𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐍’𝐓 𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐄’𝐒 𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐅𝐎𝐑. actually, he couldn’t really remember how he died either. all he really knew was that he died at the young age of nineteen and he was buried under this big oak tree. that was his resting place and ultimately where his spirit wandered.
occasionally the ghost would get visitors. kids would come play tag around the wooden trunk. sometimes a couple would have picnics underneath the shaded branches. however, there was one visitor that proved to be eren’s favourite.
once a week you’d come. using the tree’s leaves to shield you from the sun, you’d lean up against the wood to read. you were absolutely stunning. if eren could still breathe you’d most likely take his breath away. you could never see him, no one could, but eren would always sit next to you to skim over whatever novel you brought with you that day.
sometimes eren would try to talk to you or comment on the chapter you had both just read but you’d always mistake his voice for a gust of wind. it was so frustrating. it proved even more outraging when you’d get up to leave without hearing him say the words “i want you”.
before long eren started to loathe his tree. he hated it for trapping him there. he’d curse it every time you left him. more than anything eren wanted to leave with you, maybe see where you lived. perhaps it was this ever growing resentment for his burial site that he was able to detach his spirit from the evergreen and follow you one day.
since then, you’ve felt like someone was watching you. you felt a presence whenever you were in the shower. as you got changed out of your clothes you could have sworn there were eyes on you. even when you were in bed trying to sleep you’d convince yourself there was someone looming over you. however, every time you looked there was no one there.
but in fact eren was there. he was always there now. your house became his new haunting ground and he was always breathing down your neck, whether you were aware of it or not. at first simply watching you was enough to satisfy the restless spirit but before long he needed more.
yes, even in death eren was selfish. he needed more, more of you. he longed to not only be with you always but to touch you. feel the warmth of your skin. that may never happen but in this form eren could find a way to appease some of his cravings.
he cracked one night as you slept. he’s been standing at the edge watching you rest for some time now. finally eren slowly pulls the covers off you. as a ghost, he still had the ability to move things. however, to be capable his desire had to be strong and oh were they:
you slept naked tonight, how perfect. eren had full view of your glorious body and even better, to your pretty pussy and tits. he starts by tweaking your nipples. almost instantly that earns a sleepy whimper from you. for a moment eren thinks he might have woken you up but when he checks, your eyes are still shut.
after a while, eren moves on your cunt. his menstruations have it nice and wet when he starts to toy with it. eventually you’re pulled out of your dreams by the feeling of your clit being pinched. there’s no controlling the moan that echoes from your lips when your eyes flutter open.
for a second it doesn’t process what’s happening but when it finally clicks, you check and expect to see a person between your legs. once again there’s nothing and yet… it feels exactly like there are three long fingers pumping in and out of your desperate hole.
you would have been more alarmed if it didn’t feel so fucking good. all you could do is throw your head back as the entity curled its digits inside of you. you’re mewling and whining a name that was unfamiliar to you. “eren”. you heard a faint voice whisper it in your ear now that’s all you could keep repeating as the invisible force brought you to your end.
with a few more pumps and rubs against your sensitive nub, you cream around something that you can’t see. eren stares mesmerized at the mess between your thighs. for a minute or two he watches you pant, recovering from the orgasm he caused. eventually he decides that he should leave you so you can go back to bed.
before the ghost can float through the door to give you that time alone, he hears your soft voice call out to him. “please stay here with me” you whisper, eyes lidded. “don’t know who you are but… 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐘”.
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2022 © b-achiras — do not repost or translate my work. likes, reblogs, and comments are welcome
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cloveroctobers · 5 months
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OCTOBER PROMPTS 🦇 — 5. RIO
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A/N: had a dream about my man the other night so I guess that was his way of telling me that he misses me? We love delulu!!! Anyways thought this would be fun to actually write something on the line of thriller/spooky this time around. This is me making up for not writing part two’s to my other fall inspired prompt on this man way back when. Hope y’all enjoy this 🧡🫶🏽!!!
PROMPT is from HERE + I’m using: A Begs B to come explore an old house that they believe is haunted. B is hesitant, especially after hearing the scary tales A knows so much about.
*GIF + PHOTO DO NOT BELONG TO ME!
WARNINGS: some France slander, language & hints of sexual content.
<- read my previous October anthology prompt here.
𒅒𒈔𒅒𒇫𒄆 𒅒𒈔𒅒𒇫𒄆 𒅒𒈔
Being in France for the month of October initially wasn’t the plan.
Khadijah and Rio ventured out here for a couple days for Khadijah’s birthday and for Rio to tie up some loose ends for business. What was supposed to be a four day trip turned into a much longer adventure.
“I know y’all done heard they got bed bugs out there, why are your asses staying out there longer?” Khadijah’s mother blurted into the FaceTime call.
Rio chuckled to himself by the mini bar, fixing himself something brown before entering the main living room part of the suite.
“Mom,” Khadijah hissed as she flicked through the channels, “this was a unexpected extended birthday trip.”
“Uh huh, sure it is.” The older woman said not entirely believing that, “Don’t think you can get cute on us and decide not to come back.”
“I’m already cute,” Khadijah modeled with extra shoulder as she sat on the tan couch while her mother brings the camera to show that she’s rolling her eyes.
“Well where do you think you get it from?”
“My father.”
“More like you got his smart mouth.” Khadijah’s mom comments, making her child hold up her finger to interject.
Now she loved her mom dearly but it was no secret that Khadijah was a daddy’s girl and her father’s favorite daughter despite what her two sisters thought. She was one of four children while her youngest sibling happened to be the only boy.
“Aw c’mon, don’t do Mr. Wells like that, especially if he’s not here to defend himself. Where is he anyway? It’s gotta be after 10:30 back home?” Rio came into frame, crouching behind Khadijah, who turned to peck his cheek before facing her phone once more.
The woman sighed, “where else? Working, working, working. I’ve been telling him he needs to slow down, he’s not some twenty year old no more. Lord knows it.”
Mr. Wells had a heart attack last year and had to have a stint put in. Rio’s never seen Khadijah’s so stressed before in his life and although the hardworking man had a good job with good insurance working for the city, they slammed him with some bills that Rio paid off. Which Mr. Wells wouldn’t let slide and already was in the process of paying back.
His choice, not Rio’s.
“He’s close to retirement and he loves supporting his family which is respectable.” Rio starts before joking, “once that happens then the both of you can come with us to Paris next time.”
“Uh uh. I’m never going over there, never had the desire to which is why I want y’all asses to get out of there fast!” Mrs. Wells’ large glasses come into frame now as she holds the phone at not the best angle, “I’d love to see Dubai or St. Lucia with Kayode, your father, and I guess your big headed brother can come too, Deej.”
Khadijah laughs, “yeah and he can bring Eliza too.”
“if I catch him even thinking about it, I’ll click my heels three times and send her bony ass right to hell.”
Laughter bubbles in Khadijah’s throat as she sends a teasing smile to Rio who winked back at his wife, knowing that neither of Khadijah’s parents were fond of their youngest child’s significant other. He was nineteen and found his supposed first love so it was evident that the pair were clingy and so in love with each other. They went to the same high school together, weren’t in the same cliques but ended up at the same community college and decided to give each other a try.
In shorter terms.
“We’ll make it happen,” Rio sighs as he comes around to plop down on the couch next to Khadijah, tossing a hand around the back of the couch, “minus Eliza right?”
“Damn straight,” Mrs. Wells humphed, “she can date somebody else’s son and boss them around for all i care. I just hope it’s over before thanksgiving.”
“Now Mom! Let’s not spread that negative energy for your birthday month, do you need some lavender and Kirk Franklin to keep your blood pressure down?”
The woman with the now bonnet secured around her micro locs fanned her hand, “I already had my session with Mr. Franklin around 7pm so hush! You know that’s what I’m wishing for and hoping you don’t wait around and decide to come back then.”
Khadijah blinks at Rio, who meets her stare. He had no plans of staying here longer than another few days, things got delayed and he offered to send Khadijah back to Detroit if that’s what she wanted but she had some vacation time that she didn’t mind using and she didn’t want to leave Rio behind either.
He’s been busy lately and she just knows as soon as they get back to Detroit, he’ll probably disappear for a little awhile again. So sue the woman if she wanted to be a little selfish and spend more time with her man.
“We’re gonna bring you something much better,” Rio smirks after taking a sip of his liquor, “maybe even a new bundle of joy.”
“WHAT?!” Mrs. Wells yells, “don’t play with me right now. When was your last cycle? I’ve been saying your tatas been looking fuller, ooooh I’ll have to tell your grandmomma.”
“Hey, hey! I’m not pregnant—
“Yet. We’ve been practicing though.” Rio announces, biting down on his bottom lip while Khadijah gasps and shoved at his knee.
Mrs. Wells claps her hands in joy, “y’all keep doing that but don’t bring those bed bugs back with you.”
“We won’t and did our research. If it makes you feel any better, we’re leaving this hotel tonight to stay at this castle for the rest of our trip and then tomorrow we’re gonna go explore this historic house since Rio wanted to have a rest day.” Khadijah informs her mother while Rio slowly nods his head, not knowing of the exploring a house portion but they’d discuss it later.
Mrs. Wells yawns as she sits up in bed now, “sounds fancy but okay then, mom’s tired and ready to knock out. But continue to be safe, the both of you and I’ll see you soon?”
“You sure will, night momma Wells.” Rio gave a two finger salute while Khadijah shared, “I love you’s, talk soon.” Before hanging up the call.
Khadijah leans back against the couch with a sigh, “told you mom’s got serious seperation anxiety all thanks to Kaliyah moving to Toronto with her girlfriend and we’re only traveling!”
“Which is exactly why I tried to smooth over her worries with baby talk, it worked didn’t it?” Rio lifts a thick brow while Khadijah shrugs her shoulders.
Soon she rests her head on Rio’s chest, locking her arms around his waist, “it’ll happen when it’s meant to…and we need to make sure we’re all packed for our new temporary home.”
“Oh I know I am, it’s you you gotta worry about mamas.” Rio presses a kiss to Khadijah’s rosemary scented hair.
Khadijah scoffs, “sorry but I had to buy more for this trip…which I’m not complaining! BUT! Paris’ fashion is really for the petite girlies.”
“They’re forreal missing out on the inclusion and better get on that.” Rio hummed.
“Siobhán is.” Khadijah grins while Rio slowly dips his head at the mention of his old designer friend.
Before Khadijah could get into asking about how she’s been doing, Rio sips from his drink once more and changes the subject, “what’s this about exploring tomorrow?”
“We maybe moving into a castle mansion for a little awhile but there’s no way I’m staying cooped up any longer without seeing what Dordogne has to offer.” Khadijah tells her husband with the perfect pronunciation of the town—or rather department as France calls it.
Rio raises the hand the rests against his wife’s shoulder, “heard you, mamas. No arguing on my part but you know it’s beneficial to have reset days too.”
“Which YouTuber told you that?” Khadijah smirks up at the buzz haired man, figuring that he was probably logged onto her account instead of switching over to his own to watch whatever it is he gets into.
Rio snorts, “don’t try and play me, my aesthetician did.”
“Of course they did.” Khadijah nods believing that since Rio didn’t mess around when it came to his skincare, “and you’re right, there’s nothing wrong with rest days. You’ve been running around x2 compared to me so I get it. You get a nap in and I’ll get the bags ready since we have what? An hour before the service comes and gets us.”
Rio grips Khadijah’s hand as she gets up from the couch, “you sure all an hour is what you need?”
“Shut up, Christopher.” Khadijah laughs, matching Rio’s smile before leaving the man to get his nap on.
With the city life behind the married couple, they settled in Dordogne late last night into the 18th century home. Surprisingly Rio wakes up late the next day, like around eleven am late compared to his seven am timeline. However Khadijah doesn’t mind letting him sleep, snapping a picture of his rest with the camera she brought along for the trip. She watches the clock from time to time, knowing just when to order breakfast to be sent to their room.
Khadijah’s sitting on a olive couch pushed underneath the windows which are half pulled back, sipping on caffe viennese, stomach half full from a classic French breakfast as she stares out into the scenery acting like the main character in a Victorian film.
“Morning, mamas. You starting the day without me?” Rio’s rough morning voice greets the brown skinned woman, who glances over her shoulder at him.
A soft smile meets her full lips, “good morning but someone has to get this party started. But don’t worry, I’ll never not let you in on the thrill. Got you one of these,” she holds the mug up in the air, nodding with her chin on the nightstand next to the man, “and there’s breakfast waiting for you underneath the cloche.”
“Did I mention hearing you speak French is sexy?” Rio states as he slowly sits up in bed, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.
Khadijah smirks, “plenty when you were tipsy on the late night ride here.”
“I regret nothing,” Rio laughs before turning to reach and sip at the warm coffee, “this is delicious.”
Khadijah pops her tongue, “Yeah it is.”
“What we doin’ today? Hold up, what time is it?” Rio turns his eyes into slits, reaching for his phone to let out a low whistle, “damn, haven’t slept that long—
“Since you got shot?”
Rio let’s out a cough, “whoa, that was dark.”
“Sorry,” Khadijah says, “kinda just slipped out.”
“Something you wanna talk about, Dija?” Rio hums, staring at his wife from their temporary shared bed.
Khadijah shakes her head, “nothing I want to get into on this brand new day, no. So!”
She uncurls her feet from underneath her to stand in her floral print lace trim set, placing a smile on her lips as she plops down on the bed. Taking a quick sip of the coffee again, she places it on her side of the nightstand and reaches inside to pull out two slips of paper.
“Close your eyes.”
“Why?” Rio suspiciously tries to peek at the papers but Khadijah slaps them right on her chest.
“You asked what we’re gonna do.”
“Didn’t you say exploring some house last night?” Rio frowns, trying to remember.
Khadijah’s little smile to herself seems wicked but as soon as it appeared it vanished while she wiggled a bit on the bed, “that’s tonight’s adventure after dinner. We have at least a few hours before then to do something else so…pick one, anyone.”
The two options were: Château des Milandes OR Canoeing on the Brantôme.
Rio doesn’t wipe the frown off his brows but holds out his thumb and pointer finger while Khadijah holds onto the deck of two pieces. The tatted man makes a show of taking his time debating, just to irritate Khadijah for a little until he smiles picking the paper to the left.
And the winner is…
“Great choice! Now get your butt up and let’s shower, they’ve been open since 9 this morning.”
Chateau des Milandes!
Rio hums as he studies the paper, sipping at his coffee then replies, “can I enjoy my breakfast along with the view first?”
Khadijah dramatically sighs as she flops beside Rio, resting on her elbow to stare back at the ajar windows, “oh fine but I promise you, the one outside is much better.”
“personally I like the one right next to me.”
Khadijah flicks her head back to meet Rio’s brown eyes and she can’t help but to let a smile split over her lips, then puckering them for Rio to peck and lick his own smiling lips afterwards, “you think you’re so smooth.”
“I mean give a guy some credit. How else do you think I got you?” Rio chuckled while Khadijah just nodded her head from side to side mockingly.
“Just eat your food Christopher.”
It was Rio’s turn to mimic his wife.
“Aight, Khadijah.” He said over his shoulder, sitting on his knees and reaching over for the second tray of food.
Chateau Des Milandes was a sight to see and was a wonderful experience. Ugh!!! here Khadijah was sounding like her very emotional Granny Mozella but she never took moments like these with Rio for granted. On the outside it may seem like Rio was only street smart since that’s what he preferred yet he didn’t mind listening in on historical facts from time to time and no he wasn’t really into podcasts—unless it was true crime content—but no one could ever say he wasn’t open to learning new material and translating it into his own life.
He was good at finding purpose in anything.
He also liked draping his arm across Khadijah’s shoulders as they took the tour around the home that used to be owned by the successful Josephine Baker. That was more interesting to Khadijah than the Lords that lived it way before Ms. Baker but nonetheless they took it all in together including the architecture.
No one could deny that France had a way with its design and art.
They explored the garden, which led to a picnic and wine for dinner with the French sunset as the perfect backdrop, then they ended their time at the Chateau with a bird experience, much to Rio’s surprise as Khadijah winked and placed a kiss on the tattoo on his neck, before clenching onto his arm for dear life once the various of birds—specifically the one that was very similar to the one on Rio’s skin started flying around.
Rio found amusement in that, even when they made it back to the rental car.
“If that big ass bird would have crapped on me, we would have been having a whole different type of bird for thanksgiving this year.” Khadijah continuously checked her outfit for any unfamiliar marks, the paranoia getting to her.
Rio couldn’t help but to throw his head back against the headrest laughing. “They’ve been trained, that wasn’t gonna happen. Plus it may just wanted a strand of your hair for warmth, huh? French winters can be brutal so I hear.”
The man went to curl a strand of his wife’s loose curl that framed her face who scoffed at him.
“You’re far from funny, Mr. Montoya.” Khadijah slapped his hand away to fix her pin curl updo in the drop down mirror.
Rio chuckled some more, watching her, “you’re right…I’m hilarious, Mrs. Montoya.”
“Im glad you had fun, baby. I can tell the bird part was your favorite,” Khadijah gave the man a playful side eye, “but now it’s time for my activity.”
Rio glanced at the watch on his wrist, “it’s going on seven…what else you trying to get into besides drinking more wine and eating cheese?”
“Whew! No more cheese for me.” Khadijah flicked the sun visor back up, “so…I have this other place to visit.”
Rio tapped on the GPS, “aight, what’s the address?”
“I don’t think the GPS will fully locate it…just to a certain point.”
Rio thought about this for a second and asked, “what? It’s some underground event or something?”
“Well sure, yeah. Kinda.” Khadijah shrugged her shoulders making Rio sigh and sit back with his hands clasped.
Khadijah was tapping away on her phone for a moment while Rio just studied her. When she realized the car wasn’t moving, Khadijah turned her attention back to Rio who was patiently waiting for her to come right on out with it.
“We’re not going anywhere until you give me the info I need. No shady shit allowed.”
Khadijah turned sideways to face Rio, “Okay so…there’s this house that we should see.”
“You said that already. But Why? To buy?”
“Hell no,” Khadijah was quick to say, further making Rio put his guard up as to what this whole adventure was even about, “I mean no…yeah no that’s exactly what I mean. It wouldn’t be for us to live…just to see.”
Rio pried, “what’s so special about it?”
“It has a colorful story.”
“Which is…?”
“The year was 1666–
“Nah,” Rio immediately said leaning forward to start the engine but Khadijah flew her hand out to stop Rio from switching the gears.
“You didn’t let me finish.”
Rio leans on the console to completely face Khadijah, “by the way you’re dragging this out let’s me know you’re about to tell me some bullshit, that you know I’m not about to let fly.”
“Can’t a bitch add some extra flavor to the tale?” Khadijah scrunches up her face, “Sheesh.”
“Stop playin’ with me, Dija.”
“So hostile,” Khadijah flicked her hair off her shoulder, “alright you want the synopsis? Got it. So this house is special because during the year of 1666 a woman named Blanche lived there with her father, mother, two siblings, and new husband. Allegedly she was later accused of poisoning her family and beheaded her husband after they all suspected she was a witch because of some rumors started at the hospital she volunteered at. Her sickly father was the one to put her down after his wife and other children slowly started to die one by one. They say Blanche still haunts the home and asks when and or if you visit, to leave a ribbon and tea bag’s on their front step as a offering and for her to rid any vengeance in your life.”
Rio caressed his facial hair in thought, “Question for you, mamas? Did that eagle peck at your brain when i wasn’t around or…”
Khadijah sucks her teeth, “it’s spooky season, asshole!”
“I know that,” Rio lifts his shoulders carelessly, “but you’re trying to get into some serious shit and I can tell you one thing: I’m not feelin’ it.”
“Are you scared?” Khadijah leaned into the center console ready to comfort him, “I never said we had to go inside the house. Just see it and leave something for Blanche.”
Rio didn’t miss how Khadijah started to trail her hands over him but he didn’t fold, “Her business ain’t ours.”
It was Khadijah’s turn to laugh now, “you’re definitely scared!”
“No I’m not.” Rio scowled, “I’m just saying you have to be careful what you expose yourself to. I told moms we’d bring her back a baby, not a witch that may latch onto your body.”
Khadijah frowns, “why would you think Blanche would latch onto mine and not yours?”
“Whoever! And I really can’t wrap my head around the fact that you’re trying to mess with some spirits.”
Khadijah wasn’t trying to “‘mess with spirits,” she always respected the dead but this sounded better than visiting the catacombs to be honest.
So she challenged, “Hey! It’s something to do.”
“I can find plenty of other things we can get into.” Rio placed his chin into the palm of his hand, “We’re not about to be here much longer anyway.”
Khadijah sighs as she grabs Rio’s hand to place in her lap, “I’ll let you try out our new toy at the same time while you’re inside…”
Rio’s eyes begin to darken as they meet Khadijah’s much lighter ones. This was a promising bargain and this Khadijah knew as Rio trailed his own hand up her stomach, between her breasts, and to grip her chin.
“You’re lucky I love you,” Rio states as he presses their lips together and leads the way with his tongue dancing along hers.
It’s passionate and a little nasty just the way the married couple liked their kisses but brief enough that he leaves Khadijah panting on the passenger side. He smirks to himself, lifting up from the driver’s side to pull out his Glock 17 from his black jeans to rest on the dashboard.
“Put your seatbelt on,” Rio tells Khadijah who shortly follows through, “and not a word of this to my abuelita.”
Khadijah makes a cross my heart motion as Rio puts the car in drive.
The drive to this supposed haunted home was a good half hour north from where they were staying and the decline of the countryside was clear. There seemed to be no livelihood as the skies got even darker. Rio could sense to the left of him that Khadijah seemed to be at unease the deeper they got into the area.
He checks in, “How we doing?”
“Hm? Oh, there it is. Stop.”
Rio turns his attention back to the lack of road up ahead and notices that there’s a tunnel with no lighting. He steps on the breaks, witnessing to the left of the tunnel the narrow road carried upwards to what exactly? That he didn’t know. There was no homes or animals in sight on this drive since they started getting further away from the chateau.
“What’s this?”
“That’s the tunnel that leads to Blanche’s house.” Khadijah is sitting on the edge of the passenger seat now.
Rio tightens his hold on the steering wheel, eyes scanning the scenery with the help of the automatic headlights. If they went through that tunnel, which was surely to be just as narrow as the roads out here in the countryside he wasn’t positive they would make it back. His intuition  was telling him since the beginning that this didn’t feel right and being physically here was enough to confirm that for Rio.
Turning his eyes into slits towards the right of the tunnel, Rio can see a decaying headstone with a bunch of colorful ribbons tossed around and possibly some rocks that were most likely teabags scattered below it.
“This is what you came for,” Rio says keeping his eyes on the road.
“Oui-Oui.” Khadijah says suddenly halfhearted and any other time Rio would have laughed but the expression on her face made him aware that the tension was also felt by her as well.
Rio steps on the gas, driving full speed towards the tunnel but stops just at edge, parallel to the headstone, making Khadijah grip the dashboard at the abruptness.
“Get going, sweetheart.” Rio tells Khadijah with a lift of his chin.
Khadijah swallows, prying her eyes away from the tunnel then to the headstone and back to her husband. “W-what? You’re not coming with me?”
“I never said I was going in there. I have sense.” Rio tapped at his temple.
Khadijah glares, “wow. So here’s to trying new things was just another one of your lies then huh?”
“Another? Don’t go there, I’m not doing that with you this evening. You brought this terrible idea to me and I brought you here so go head, show me you’re the one who isn’t scared.” Rio’s hardened stare was now on the fuming woman.
Khadijah didn’t know what the fuck Rio’s problem was and why he thought this energy was okay? Khadijah didn’t like Rio’s tone so she snatched her baguette bag from beside her feet and went to push on the door but remained right inside.
“Are you serious?!”
Rio made a U-Turn and began driving back in the direction they came, “are you forreal thinking I’m about to have our asses messing around with the actual dead? Let alone your indecisive ass? And we don’t even have the full context?”
“I mean…do you not have bodies? You don’t see me questioning you about them.” Khadijah muttered.
Rio snapped his eyes to his wife, “two completely different things and you know that.”
It really wasn’t but okay, if Rio hated her riding the fence then let’s see if he hated it now.
“Whatever.” Khadijah slouched against the seat, “You just wasted our time, like why entertain the fact that you were with it if you’re just gonna try to clown me?”
“I wasn’t letting you do that and you should have known that.” Rio clenched his jaw, “I would never willingly put you in harm’s way and that’s exactly what you were signing up for.”
Khadijah knows Rio wouldn’t and if she wanted to be petty she could but she just mumbles, “You just ruined spooky season in France like?”
“Better throw that ribbon and teabags out the window and get glad. Who knows what would have happened if we went down that dark ass tunnel with only the Glock against a whole spirit mind you, that we don’t even know if she’s still vengeful or not.”
“I mean you make valid arguments…and I don’t even know if the house is still standing. The last update online was from 2021 so I guess I can’t be too pressed about it.” Khadijah explains as she starts to search through her bag, “but you can’t say I was indecisive this time, yet you locked me in here like I’m a child.”
Rio deeply exhales, rubbing at his face in slight aggravation, “yeah we gotta get back to Detroit and quick. I think you need to go back to work and continue spreading peaceful energy at that non-profit instead whatever this is.”
“What?” Khadijah sucked her teeth, “Trying to be on theme?”
“We could easily rent a movie at the spot and call it a day.”
“I wanna be one with nature!”
“As soon as we get far away from Blanche’s murder site, I’ll take the locks off so you can touch some grass.”
“Ohhhh, I cannot stand you!” Khadijah scowled followed by some laughter before ghosting her fingers over the window button, “is this going to work for me or am I still being held hostage?”
Rio just hums to himself, glancing in the rear view spotting a blur of white in the distance along with something that wasn’t tumbleweed rolling right by their feet.
Khadijah doesn’t notice as she cracks the window to toss a pink ribbon and a teabag out on the dirt road.
And when she looks in the rearview, she doesn’t see anything unusual or creepy. So she rolls her window back up and presses her elbow into the arm of the door, resting her cheek along her fingers, watching the night scenery whip by her highlighter eyes.
Soon Rio’s hand reaches for the Glock to rest in the cup holders before sneaking his hand over to bring Khadijah’s hand up to his lips. He knew she was a little sour with him over this and probably a bunch of other built up issues but Khadijah always tried to make the best of it.
Rio was trying to get better at validating her feelings but this shit right here was not it and Khadijah knew that inside. Which is why he had a more safer route up his sleeve to spend the day with Khadijah tomorrow since celebrating Halloween was apparently too american for the French. So he did the best that he could choosing a theme park that would be “on theme” for Khadijah’s spooky cravings.
That would be his gift to her and routine of keeping her best interest at heart, even if she didn’t fully want to see it that way sometimes…
Ah, she’ll be aight.
𒅒𒈔𒅒𒇫𒄆 𒅒𒈔𒅒𒇫𒄆 𒅒𒈔
Continue along with my October anthology prompts here.
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apocalypseornaw · 6 months
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Wanna be Yours (Pt 1/5)
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Sam Winchester x Reader
After years of hunting with Dean you finally meet his younger brother
@lacilou s genius idea
Every hunter had one thing in common, tragic backstory. The one event that fucked their lives up bad enough that they not only discovered that the things that went bump in the night were very real but they decided to not sit on the sidelines and to actually do something about it.
Your event? You'd gone camping with your family, your parents along with your aunt and uncle and a couple cousins. No one had heard anything about the so called animal attacks neither did anyone know how the hell to defend themselves when the wendigo attacked.
The initial bloodbath had been hell. Your dad and uncle were first gone, going at the beast straight in an attempt to save their families. Next came your mom and aunt, a last ditch effort to distract it while you and your cousins ran. The three of you barely made it half a mile before the beast caught you.
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You'd assumed that was it, you'd die just like your family had. The beast had kept the three of you for days in a cavern. You'd seen it kill your older cousin, Derek was fourteen and had fought like hell so you begged it to spare to your younger cousin, Allie his little sister who was only four not knowing if it even understood you.
The begging seemed to lure it to you. It raised its clawed hand and you prepared for a slash that never came. Instead you heard someone yell "KIDS GET DOWN!"
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You nodded to Allie and you both tucked down in as small of a ball as possible. The heat that filled the cavern was unbearable mixed with the scent of burning flesh along with the sounds of the creature as it died.
When it was over you untucked and was met with a woman, she was probably around your aunts age. Her brown hair braided back, wearing jeans and a red flannel of all things. A flamethrower was in her hands "You girls ok?" You nodded numbly "Help Allie first"
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That was how you met Hayley Lynols. She was a second generation hunter. When it was discovered you had no legal guardian (Allie had gone to a relative of her dad's) Hayley had stepped in to offer you a place to stay.
She'd given you three options. One was a normal life, one was the life of a hunter and the third option was what she wanted you to take "I'll train you just like my dad trained me but you go to school and get a ged at least. Any kid of mine isn't going to be dumb in any way. If you want to hunt on your own some after you're eighteen that's you but just know I'll always be here to help"
You'd taken the third option. You'd buckled down on school and studied hard. You'd gotten a ged by the time you turned fifteen and started hunting with Hayley.
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That was how you met Dean. You were nineteen, on the very first solo hunt Hayley had allowed you. She deemed it simple enough, a haunting case that seemed like it'd be a simple salt and burn.
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She hadn't realized another hunter was already on the case. You stood across from the guy that had to be around your age, both of you carrying a duffle and a shovel.
Neither of you blinked so you decided to go out on a limb "Anthony Rowen?" He sort of laughed "You a hunter?" You nodded then motioned towards the grave that was about three feet from where the two of you stood "I say we work this together and it goes a lot faster" he nodded "I like that idea" then offered his hand "Dean" you shook his hand "Y/N, let's get to it"
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Since the two of you weren't old enough for a bar you ended up at a diner, coffee and pie in front of you both as you talked about your lives. He told you about his father and brother and you told him about Hayley. Before you went your separate way you exchanged numbers and swore to keep in touch.
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You'd see Dean off and on but when you were about twenty six he fell off the map for a while until he resurfaced about a year later with a simple phone call of "Y/N, I need some help"
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You pulled your challenger to a stop next to Dean's impala and grabbed your phone to check the text as to what room he was in but before you could the door to room one fifteen opened and Dean walked out, shadowed by another guy. He looked a little younger than Dean with hair that borderlined shaggy but it was clear they were related. Could that be Sam?
You climbed out your car with a smile "Winchester!" Dean grinned and met you halfway pulling you into a hug "Y/N! It's good to see you" when the two of you separated he motioned to the other guy "This is my little brother Sam"
You turned your eyes towards Sam with a smile and offered your hand "I've heard about you for years, weird we're just now meeting but good to meet you" he grinned as he shook your hand "Good to meet you too" you had to admit, he was cute. Broad smile and dimples along with green hazel eyes that followed your every movement. You cut your eyes at Dean "Also, little brother? He's taller than you"
Sam laughed at your words, the sound was enough to pull a smile to your face "Oh I like her already" you winked at him "Stick around cutie, I'm a very likeable person" Dean shook his head "Let's get to work"
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After that day you and the Winchesters started keeping in touch every few days. You hadn't known they lost John so you weren't able to be there for them but when you lost Hayley they'd driven straight across two states to get to your side.
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You stood between them both, staring at the flames as they engulfed her body. You felt a shiver run through you and weren't sure if it was from the cold night air or losing the only parental figure you had left. "I'll go grab your jacket" Dean offered and headed for your challenger.
You and Sam stood silent for a few moments before he said "When dad died Dean wouldn't talk to anyone, let anyone in until he finally broke one day. Y/N I know we're not as close as you and Dean but you're my friend and if you need anything I'm here" you nodded, eyes never leaving the flames "Thanks Sam"
About that time Dean walked back over with your jacket and draped it over your shoulders "You know Y/N, I was thinking" you cut your eyes at Sam with a weak smile "Should we run?" A small smile slipped onto his face "Let's hear him out then we'll see if we need to"
"Ha ha very funny" Dean replied before continuing "Hayley always said she didn't like you hunting alone, you can always throw your hat in with me and Sam. We don't mind the company" you nodded "Maybe I will" a silence fell back over the three of you as the flames began to burn down to just embers.
@nelachu2423
@lacilou
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psychedelic-ink · 1 year
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𝐒𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐞 - 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐈𝐎𝐀𝐃𝐊
Pairing: FEDRA!Javier Peña x firefly!reader
Genre: slice of life, smut, romance, angst, enemies to reluctant friends to lovers, TLOU AU, minors dni
Summary: Javier, a former member of the Federal Disaster Response Agency in Kansas City, is haunted by the guilt and violence he indirectly caused by not taking action when he should have. After fleeing Kansas City in the aftermath of Kathleen's violent overthrow of FEDRA, you and Javier seek refuge in an abandoned train in the middle of a forest.
As you and Javier turn the train into a living space and learn to navigate the dangers of a post-apocalyptic world, you gradually overcome your differences and form an unlikely bond. But when your pasts catch up with you, you must confront the demons that haunt you and make a choice that could mean the difference between life and death. Will you choose to protect each other and find a way to build a new life together, or will the ghosts of your pasts tear you apart?
word count: 8.4k
chapter summary: you and javier go for a swim.
warnings: canon typical violence, no y/n, mentions of blood, nightmares, brief mentions of reader suffering from anxiety attacks pre outbreak, PTSD, more references to the main hbo tlou plot specifically episode 5, overall wholesome and full of fluff, mention of body hair, piv, vaginal fingering, dirty talking, biting, mild edging, one small mention of him threading his fingers through your hair but nothing else specified
a/n: it's all about communication, baby. It's a long one so get your warm drink of choice and settle in!
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Semaphore - A signaling system used on railroads to communicate between trains and stations, typically using a system of flags or lights.
The cell was always so fucking cold. 
Javier hated being here, staring at the gray walls and reading that damn FEDRA sign over and over again all day long. He couldn’t help himself; it was right there within his eyesight. He wished it wasn't, that he could just rip it off and throw it in the corner.
YOUR RIGHTS WHILE IN DETENTION
YOU ARE ENTITLED TO:
LAWYER
MEDICAL ATTENTION 
FAMILY VISIT
FOOD
CLOTHING
Just a huge load of fucking bullshit. If you’re in here, you’re in here for one reason only: to give up names. Either that, or you never see the sight of daylight again. He took a sharp breath. With that, the man sitting across from him on the bench stiffened. A drop of water continuously dripped from the ceiling. Every time the sound echoed, the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. Javier preferred to be alone during interrogations.
A young man stood next to him. Unlike Javier, who was leaning against the cage, he stood fully upright and alert, rifle in hand. He glared daggers at the man sitting helplessly; his cheek was cut, and his right eye bruised. Javier wanted to place a hand on Adam’s shoulder and tell him to calm down, to let him know that this broken man was no threat to them. But he couldn't do that, not when he had to keep his mask on.
“What’s your name?” Javier asked the man, he scoffed in return. 
“You already know my name.” 
Javier sighed once again, and Adam narrowed his eyes. The newcomers were always like this: eager to put others in their place, eager for violence. FEDRA didn't teach them anything else, just how to take orders and to see the world in black and white. But that was another bullshit lie. Javier had told Carillo a million times that he didn't want anyone paired with him. Murphy was enough. However, like many things, his request was ignored.
There was just something starkly painful about seeing a nineteen- or eighteen year old so eager to kill.
I want to hear it from you," Javier spoke calmly as he pushed himself away from the fence and took a step closer. The man cowered back. "If you tell me what I want to hear, we won't hurt you.”
There was a moment of silence, followed by a meek whisper of a name: Martin. Javier swallowed, realizing that this man would probably give away all the information they asked for, if he had the information to give.
“Alright, Martin," Javier said, taking slow steps and kneeling in front of him. Adam was right behind him, standing and being as menacing as ever. "I need you to tell me who is a part of this..." Javier made air quotes with his fingers, causing Martin to flinch. "...'Resistance'."
“I don’t know anythin’ about that.” 
"Are you sure?" Javier asked with a raised eyebrow. "Not even a whisper?"
Javier heard Adam puffing up his chest and almost rolled his eyes. But he didn't look away; he kept his gaze fixed on Martin. He liked using silence as a tactic. He just stared, watching the other man sweat. It was clear to him that Martin was protecting someone. Javier could tell by the way Martin's tongue poked inwardly from one cheek to another; he was having trouble meeting Javier's gaze.
“You won’t be getting out of here,” he said, keeping his voice even. “If you don’t tell me who’s leading it.” 
"I can't," he murmured, looking down at Javier's knees. "I won't."
Shit. This wasn't good.
Adam shifted from one leg to another, fidgeting with his rifle. A chill settled at the base of Javier's spine.
"Fucking answer the question," Adam spat, pointing the rifle. "Or we'll blow your head off. Ungrateful shit."
The worst part of all this was that Javier couldn't stop Adam if he were to do something. Stopping him meant blowing his cover and revealing that he cared about these so-called "traitors." Javier hissed between clenched teeth and nearly gave Martin a pleading look.
Javier averted his gaze at the last second. And with a heave, he stood up, towering over the man. 
“Are you sure you’re not going to give us the name?” he asked one last time. “Any name.” 
Martin shook his head.
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Javier wakes with a jolt. He hears something akin to a whimper. A cry. He slowly rises from his bed, his eyes moving toward the curtain that stretches in the middle of the car, making two sections. Their setup isn’t perfect yet, but the curtain accompanied by the beds gave a sense of home and belonging. He attempts to rub the sleep away from his eyes, his mind was still in a deep sleep, a fog slowing his thoughts and reason. 
Another whimper follows, and Javier's thighs quiver as he stands up. He reaches for the curtain, slowly pulling it aside.
There you are, crying in your sleep. Half of your face is tucked into the dirty pillow as your body contorts in the most unnatural ways. Javier's eyes follow the curves of your body: one knee nearly touching your chest while your other leg is straight like a stick, tense. Sweat makes your shirt cling to your skin. Moonlight trickles in from the freshly cleaned windows, giving you an almost ethereal glow.
Javier steps closer. This isn't the first time you've had a nightmare. And he's certain that you've also been awoken from sleep by his own night terrors. You probably wouldn’t believe him, but he hates seeing you like this. He can’t help but blame himself. He wonders how many more people were suffering due to the system he’s been a part of for so long. 
He takes a gentle seat on the bed, bringing your head to his lap, he makes himself comfortable. Again, this isn’t the first time he’d done this. 
Your whimpers and crying slowly subside, drifting into soft sniffles. Your tear streaks dry as you nuzzle your cheek into his thigh. He’s happy to see that this still works. You loosely wrap your arms around him, tugging him closer. Javier obliges shifting nearer. 
In a moment of impulse, he finds himself reaching out for the blanket that you had kicked away in your frenzied attempt to escape your nightmares. The seasonal shift worries him. They’re not ready for the cruel temperature drop yet. 
Javier pulls the blanket and you seem to melt at the warmth, your body becoming pliant over his lap. He adores seeing you like this. Your face softens, the tension that had hardened it dissolving.
Javier wants to hold you like this when you’re awake too. He thinks that you’d enjoy it, he never received any complaints about it before. His thumb moves down your cheek, he feels the scars he can’t see, and soon the pad of his thumb moves to your neck, your pulse thrumming under his touch. 
A deep inhale expands his lungs, he leans back. His head hits the glass with a thud. Javier licks his lips, his fingers start to twitch. He wants to smoke. 
By some miracle, he hadn’t touched a single cigarette all day, but that was only because he was going to be running out soon. What the hell was he supposed to do then? Chew on a straw? Like a cowboy?
He smiles at his own joke, his palm resting on your shoulder. He’s glad he’s not afraid of this. The apocalypse has made him a brave man. You’re probably more afraid of this attraction than he is. He can see it in your eyes; you hold his gaze for a beat too long, your hands lingering on his skin as if searching for something. He can’t help the boost of ego he gets from how you behave. He smiles every time he catches you but you miss it, turning your head away in a fit of panic.
A soft snore parts your lips and you bury your face deeper into his legs. Javier swallows, a thick knot in his throat as he feels his dick twitching under his zipper. 
He lets out another deep sigh. It’s going to be a long night. 
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You find Javier outside, leaning against the train with a cigarette hanging between his lips. Holding your head, and still feeling a bit groggy, you join him. But instead of staying upright, you drop to the dirt, crossing your legs as you rest your back against the cool metal. 
“You saw a nightmare last night,” he says nonchalantly.
“Did I?” you ask, looking between the fence chain. “Sorry.” 
Your crinkle your nose when you inhale smoke instead of oxygen. Javier notices and tucks the hand holding the death stick between his waist and the train. It’s a chilly morning and you hug your coat tight around you. 
“I didn’t say that for you to apologize. I was trying to ask if you’re alright.” 
“Yeah, I didn’t really get that from what you said.” you answer, with a smile you rest the crown of your head against his knee. He stiffens, but other than that says nothing. “I don’t know. I don’t really remember what I saw if I’m being honest. Probably just a shit ton of death.” 
“That good old apocalypse classic.” Javier nods, bringing the cigarette to his lips. “Can’t live without it.” 
“So what’s the plan for today?” 
He shifts his weight from one foot to another, he slightly slides them forward, burying the soles further into the grass. Much similar to yours, the tips of his boots are worn out around the corners. It would be great to find some new ones. But wearing—taking someone else's boots isn’t easy. As if there isn’t enough death going around, you had to be reminded of it in every uncomfortable step. 
“I was thinking we go for a swim.” 
“A swim?” 
Javier laughs at the sound of your shock. His leg presses into your shoulder and you enjoy the heat, a small smile of your own blossoming. He crouches over, balancing himself by leaning against you. Your gaze is fixed ahead. If you look at him, you fear he might see right through you. He’s too observant not to hear your heartbeat. 
“Blue River isn’t that far off from where we are,” he explains. “Winter’s coming, it would be good to get clean thoroughly. And we should at least try to stock up on water too. I know rain and snow is an option but still, it wouldn’t hurt to be prepared.” 
“Guess not,” you murmur, looking up to the sky. 
“You have something against swimming? It’ll be fun. And, most importantly, distracting.” 
Your eyes widen, and your pulse skyrockets. He thought about this plan. He heard you crying in your sleep, woke up, went outside, and thought about something to do to cheer you up. You don’t remember the last time someone offered you their thoughtfulness. On your birthday, the third year you’d joined the fireflies, Amy had brought you a twinkie with a burning stick stabbed into it. And that was it. No one actually thought about your feelings. 
God, you missed it. 
It’s like a hug. A caress from the wind. The sun on your skin. It feels like breathing again. There’s no weight on your chest, because he’s helping you lift it. Someone fucking cares. A giggle bubbles up from your chest. Tears sting your eyes. Your head falls back against the train with a thud and you breathe out; fuck. You’re ridiculous. But Javier doesn’t seem to care. He’s just looking at you with those big brown puppy dog eyes, brows pinched in the middle. 
Heat coils in your stomach, searing, burning up your insides. 
“What do you suggest we swim in? Our underwear?” you tease without much thought. 
You don’t expect to see the mischief in his eyes, the hints of arousal splattered over dark irises like stars in the night sky. You swallow. He must’ve sensed it because he leans in, slowly, lips only an inch away from your parted ones. Javier takes a deep inhale, those same eyes you love, and hate, drop to your lips. 
You shudder. 
“Whatever the rebel is comfortable in,” he murmurs, tongue swiping over his bottom lip. “If you don’t want your panties getting wet, might be better to take them off.” 
The drop of his voice. The heat of his breath. Emotions spin wildly in your head, forcing you to be the one to take the metaphorical step back. Which is just you turning your head back to the fence. It doesn’t do much. You can still feel his breath fanning your cheek. It’s hard to hide the hitch of your breath, your chest rises up with the inhale you take, and, fuck, you just know he’s looking at your breasts. His gaze like a branding iron. 
“I think I’ll keep my panties on, thank you very much,” you manage to choke out, the tremble of your voice too noticeable to ignore. “But, hey, if you want to flash the clickers out there be my guest, handsome.” 
“Handsome?” 
Shitshitshit. 
You practically jump as you get up, and head inside the train. You hear him laugh, something dark and possessive lingering underneath. 
“Let’s just go!” you call out. “I don’t want to be outside the fence when the sun goes down.” 
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Sex has been something you hadn’t allowed yourself to think about for a long time. 
But now, as you’re standing under a giant oak tree, your shirt on the ground and pants unbuttoned, you’re reminded of how enticing the mere thought of sex can be. Javier’s already in the water, head bobbing up and down with the waves with his hair slicked back. Before he went in, you got a good look at him—before the outbreak, you might’ve been shyer about it. Maybe you would’ve turned your gaze away with heated cheeks. You still had the latter going on, but you most certainly didn’t shy away with your obvious ogling. 
You might be dead the next day. No need to turn your sight away from something beautiful. 
And Javier is just that. The epitome of beauty. 
Javier stripping in front of you will forever be engraved in your mind; he shrugged off his plaided shirt and kicked off his pants, only leaving him in a black undershirt and his boxers. He was surprisingly lean and muscular, he wasn’t a big man, but he wasn’t quite the opposite either. You were surprised to see him jumping into the water with his undershirt, you tucked the question for a later conversation. 
He swims closer to you, resting his elbows above the soil. His gaze blatantly exploring your newly exposed skin. 
“So you ever plan on getting in, perla? Or are you planning on stealing my clothes and leaving me here?” 
A snort bubbles from the back of your throat. “You poor thing. That happened to you?” 
“Maybe,” he grins and pushes himself back enough so the back of his head is submerged in running water. “Just get in.” 
Finally, with a burst of unfounded courage, you kick off your boots and pants. The chill of the forest embraces your skin. With a pleasant tingle buzzing in your muscles, you walk ankle-deep into the water. You try not to think about your old bra, or your underwear that is scattered with small holes. You especially don’t think about the small hairs dusted above your legs and other patches of skin. 
You swallow. The knot in your throat makes it difficult. 
You wade further into the river, the cool water embracing your skin, as you turn to him with a hint of uncertainty in your voice. 'Perla?' you ask, and he responds with a fluid motion, gliding effortlessly above the water, following you. 
“It means pearl.” he answers, not giving much explanation. 
You drop yourself into the water, your head submerged along with your body. Your eyes are squeezed shut as you feel the water rushing around you. The river sings to you in a beautiful hum. Javier is moving somewhere in the water, you can sense his presence. You want to open your eyes, but sadly that is one of the skills you can’t seem to force yourself to gain. You wonder if the water is muddy or crystal clear. You like to think it’s the latter. 
You rise to the surface and take in a deep breath of fresh air. You wipe your eyes with the heels of your palm, ringing the excess water from your brows and lashes. 
“I know what perla means,” you murmur, blinking at him. “I was trying to ask why you called me that.” 
“Yeah, I didn’t really get that from what you said.” he grins, his answer a reminder of this morning. “To answer your question, I don’t really have a satisfying one. I just like pearls and it just came out. I won’t call you that if you don’t want me to.” 
Moving your feet, you move upright to face him. Water drops trickle down his sunkissed skin, rolling down his cheeks and down to his neck. Momentarily your eyes drop to his lips, only for you to pull them back up again. Meeting his gaze, you move closer, the heat of his skin plausible despite the cool water running between you two. 
“No, I like it.” you answer, you swear your heart nearly stops. “I was just curious.” 
You’re not sure if it’s the water or him, but he’s closer. Your pebbled nipples graze against his chest. You suck in a sharp breath. 
“When I was a kid, I didn’t have the toughest stomach. I would get sick from almost everything,” he explains. It’s hard to focus on his words when he’s so close. “My abuela— let her soul rest in peace— had these crazy remedies. She would use crushed pearls and mix it with honey or ginger, to make a weird paste thing. Then she would make me eat it. It tasted like shit but supposedly it was supposed to make my nausea go away.” 
“Did it?” you ask. Your eyes are wide with innocent, child-like, curiosity. Javier is a natural storyteller. It’s hard not to get sucked into the cadence of his voice. 
He shakes his head, laughing. You feel his breath on your cheeks and you lean in. Only a trickle of water moves between you two now. 
“It did not, obviously. But I believe it did. I still do. And no matter how bad it tasted and how much I complained…I still took my chances.” 
“So you decided to name me after a remedy that doesn’t work?” 
“No. I named you after a remedy that I believe works. And I’ll take it, every time.” 
In the quiet moment between blinks, the world seems to pause. Your eyelids, like two curtains, draw gently closed and then part again. His words heavy in the clear air. It's a fleeting moment, barely noticeable, and that’s when it happens. 
You feel his lips, warm and wet pressing against your mouth. It’s such a simple motion. A tender closeness. Nothing more, nothing less. You don’t even taste his tongue and he’s already pulling back. With a moment of panic, you chase him, capturing his lips once more in a more heated kiss. 
That’s when you feel his hands on your waist, pulling you closer underwater, your bodies swimming in unison. He inhales you. And you him. You don’t remember the last time you kissed someone or the last time you thought about it. You groan as his tongue cheats between your lips, your own hands white-knuckled as you hold onto his shoulders. 
Javier’s hands grab at your ass, kneading the soft flesh and tracing the crease between them with the tips of his fingers. Suddenly, he’s towering over you, pushing himself further above the waterline as he claims your lips again and again, sucking the air from your lungs and garnering you breathless. 
It's not you or him, not really, but rather the river that pushes you apart. A wave rises up, and crashes down. Water rushes into your mouth and nose, filling your lungs with a bitter, icy taste. You're forced back, coughing and gasping for air, as the wave pulls you away from each other. 
You move to the riverside, grasping at the slippery rocks. You wait for your breathing to return to normal. Javier’s hands are on your back in an instant, soothing you before they slip in front to rest on your stomach. His chest is flush against your back. You take a shaky inhale and let out a deep breath. 
“Are you alright?” he asks and you can barely hear him from the blood rush in your ears. 
“I’m fine.” you gasp. “You—You kissed me. Why?” 
You’re happy he can’t see your face. The question sounds so juvenile, so unimportant. What did it matter why he kissed you? He did and that was that, and you liked it. 
“Instinct. Felt like you needed a kiss.” 
You choke out a burst of laughter. Your eyes sting from, what you hope, the water of the river. “Asshole. Don’t try to make it seem like it was for my benefit.” 
“I’m willing to say it was for both our benefits.” 
“So, it was a one time thing then?” 
“Not if you don’t want it to be.” 
You turn around and his arms cage you in. You’re smiling. And it’s not the smile you make when you’re awkward, or angry, or sad—it’s genuine. You’re heart feels light and if the beat of it wasn’t steady, you would’ve thought it disappeared. It feels foreign. 
Javier rolls his hips, the outline of his cock leaving little to the imagination. It sends electricity up your spine, blinding, and mind-numbing. He’s grinning at you in a way a confident man does when he knows what he’s doing. His face dips into the hallow of your neck. Small, ticklish kisses are left upon your burning skin. With a shudder, your hands tug at the hem of his undershirt. 
“Why do you still have this on?” you whine, smiling against his lips. “Can I take it off?” 
He tenses under your palms and you stop. His lips are above your pulse, which makes it hard to differentiate the line between right and wrong. Your fingertips buzz with the need to touch and take. His tongue sneaks from between his lips and licks a line up the column, nipping at your jaw. 
“Would it kill the mood if I said no?” 
You retract your hands and your fingers smooth over the fabric, tugging it down. Your lips part with a soft whimper, arousal gushing between your legs and fading into the water. It wouldn’t kill the mood, no, not when you’re so worked up. But it does make you think. Maybe this isn’t the perfect way to go about this, whatever perfect means in this day and age. There’s still so much you don’t know about him. Your feelings are a whirlwind, threatening to throw you up into the sky and leave you to crash down into the earth. 
Your meek sounds of pleasure subside. Javier senses your hesitation. He peels himself unwillingly from your neck and stares fixes you with a leveled gaze. 
“You want to get out?” 
Entranced, you nod. Your heart beats in your throat, uncomfortable and larger than life itself.  
“Yeah,” you answer, a beat above a whisper. “That’s probably for the best.” 
“Understood.” 
There’s a deep stillness in his eyes. With a dry mouth, all you can do is parrot his answer back to him. 
“Understood.” 
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“What do you miss the most?” 
The grass beneath you is soft and cool against your skin, the wind blows warm. A blessing considering the growing cold. The earth is comfortable against your back, a welcomed reprieve from the warmth of the sun above. You feel the trickle of water, your skin damp and pliant from the droplets that still cling to you.
The sun's gentle warmth kisses your skin, the light filtered through rustling leaves. The branches dance and tease, occasionally catching your gaze and tugging you away from the clouds overhead. You can’t help but smile. A memory reminiscent of the days you would do absolutely nothing. 
Javier's body lies perpendicular to yours, his face only a breath away. You feel the warmth radiating from his skin, his gaze looking up to the sky, and you wonder what the clouds remind him of. The sun caresses his skin, drying the water droplets that cling to him, much like it does to you.
“What do I miss,” he hums, thoughtful, eyes fluttering shut. “Having a purpose, I guess.” 
“A purpose?” 
A breathy chuckle escapes his lips. “It’s a bit silly I know, but before FEDRA, I was working in the DEA. My life was always hectic, but at least back then I could argue I was doing good. I was helping people. I liked thinking that I had a noble purpose in life. No matter what happened.” 
You turn your head to look at him, taking in his profile against the backdrop of the sky. He slowly opens his eyes, fixes them to the sky. A deep exhale leaves his lungs. 
“But now that I think about it, what I did wasn’t really noble back then either. I wish I spent more time with my family. It wouldn’t have been exciting, and I’d probably be bored out of my mind helping dad in the ranch, but at least I would’ve been happier.” 
You push your hand towards him and shudder at the way his knuckles brush against yours. Your fingers intertwine, his rough callouses fitting perfectly between the spaces of yours.
“What I’m hearing is you were an adrenaline junkie.” 
Your smile widens into a grin when he snorts. 
“Perhaps I was.” he muses. “What about you? What do you miss?” 
“I’m afraid my answer is less philosophical than yours,” What did you miss? You haven’t really thought about it, until now. Family and friends feel like an obvious answer. But you always felt lonely, even before the outbreak. You suffered from weird attacks you never got diagnosed, and when you attempted to explain them by calling them “something like a panic attack” you were always shut down, being told that if it was a panic attack, it would be far more serious. 
So, naturally, you closed up. Simmered in the heavy weight on your chest, crying with your hand between your legs, hoping someone one day would show up and close up the gap that you felt. You were so lonely.  But that person never came along, and then the world ended. 
“Cooking.” you answer, gauging his reaction. He squeezes your hand, thumb moving in circles on your skin. “Well, baking to be precise. I loved baking. Coffee—god, music, I miss music.” 
“Music,” he agrees. “I miss that too. Maybe if we find a guitar or something…” 
“You know how to play?” you perk up, a grin ready to take form. 
His laughter comes at the same time as the wind. The blends seamlessly with the rustling of leaves and the gentle sway of branches. It vibrates in your bones, as though his laughter is a part of the very fabric of nature itself.
“No, but I can learn. Some noise is better than none.” 
“Yeah,” you answer, seamlessly. “It is.” 
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Javier was being followed. He walked past the broken-down toy shop, his steps now faster. He could feel the gaze that watched his every step. It was the crack of the morning, which was the only time he and Micheal could meet. Everything was becoming a mess of badly executed plans with feeling motifs. Every nerve felt like a live wire. It was hard sneaking around. Especially when you lived in a time where even the walls had eyes. 
“Peña!”
Javier jumped and turned, gun pointing at whoever was behind him. He saw the sight of familiar green eyes, then let out a breath. 
“Adam?” putting his gun back, he cocked an eyebrow. “What the hell are you following me for?” 
“I wasn’t following you,” he answered, almost offended. “I was looking for you. Murph brought in a lead we might be able to use and Carillo wanted me to let you know.” 
Javier nodded, ignoring the younger man’s curiosity-filled gaze. When they started to move, much to his annoyance, Adam began to voice out his rather loud thoughts. 
“What are you doing here anyway? You weren’t posted here, you were meant to patrol the east side.” 
“Felt like a walk,” he grunted. “And I don’t answer to you, pendejo.” 
Javier and Adam walked in silence as they made their way toward the Fedra headquarters. The old building was barely holding up, with paint peeling off the walls and cracks running through the ceiling. The air inside was stale and smelled of musty old books, a reminder of the once-functioning library that the Fedra headquarters used to be.
They were greeted by Carillo and Murphy, who led them to the interrogation room. A string of curses raised all the way up to the tip of his tongue. On the other side of the glass, a man was sitting down, someone he recognize very vaguely. The man was young-ish, with curly black hair and a mustache supported by a messily shaved beard. His leg bobbed up and down nervously as he waited.
Carillo grinned as he gestured towards the glass. "This is Henry. Apparently, he's willing to give us information in exchange for medicine for his younger brother."
“Is that so,” Javier answered, his gaze never leaving Henry. “And what information might that be?”
The room was small and cramped, with peeling wallpaper and a flickering lightbulb. Javier noticed a small crack in the wall that seemed to grow wider with each passing moment. He couldn't help but feel a sense of unease in this dilapidated building, with its creaking floors and musty air.
“The leader of the resistance. He’s going to help us catch him.” 
The corner of Javier’s lips twitched as he forced a smile. He could barely contain the heave of his chest, the fast-paced breaths he so desperately wanted to let out. 
His mind raced. Everything was about to get a hell of a lot worse. 
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Your eyes are wide open, your body stiff and alert. 
It’s been a while since you and Javier decided to go to bed. Moonlight filtered through the windows, long shadows of leaves moving across the ceiling of the train. You breathe slowly; one breath in, a long breath out. You hear him. He’s mumbling something in his sleep, moving, thrashing over his bed, the springs squeaking under his weight. 
On nights like this, you try to ignore it. But it’s different this time. Memories of earlier today flood your mind; him kissing you in the river, his length pressed against the softness of your stomach, his lust-blown pupils. Then there was the moment where you laid on the grass, talking for hours with your fingers interlaced until you had to leave. You don’t have it in you to abandon him. For him to fend off the nightmares alone. 
Just hearing the sounds he makes…so full of pain, raw and emotional— there’s no way you can go back to sleep. 
Heading to his side of the car, you silently watch him. Again, he’s wearing his black undershirt and a pair of boxers. He’s laying on his stomach, one leg outstretched and one curled to the side. One hand is on the pillow whilst the other is balled into a tight fist, touching his lips. A choked whimper comes from the back of his throat. 
“Javier,” you call out, taking a step forward. “Javier wake up.” 
He doesn’t. So you try again. This time you reach out, the heat of your palm pressing into the slope of his shoulder. Honestly, you should’ve known better than to touch someone who’s buried deep in a nightmare. Especially in this day and age. 
“Jav—” 
Your reaction is close to none when you find yourself thrown to the bed, a sharp blade at your neck, drawing the smallest amount of blood. You breathe steadily. His fingers have your wrist in an iron grip, and the look in his eyes— deranged, still wet from the mirages of his past. The physical outburst isn’t enough to phase you, but the look in his eyes surely is. 
“It’s me,” you whisper, careful not to touch him. His jaw is locked, nostrils flaring with heavy breaths. “You were seeing a nightmare. It’s okay. Nothing’s wrong. It’s just you and me—Perla, remember?” 
“Perla,” he repeats slowly, lips remaining parted as he stares down at you. “Mi Perla.” 
The silence stretches between you two. Both of your heartbeats echo loud between the metal walls. Blood continues to trickle down your neck, staining the worn out sheets. His eyes drop to the wound, the small cut, and as if scorched, he throws the knife. It crashes to the floor with a loud clatter. The sound makes you jerk, a moment of fear evident enough for him to see. 
“Sorry.” he blurts out. “Fuck—shit—I…I didn’t mean to. Force of habit.” he shakes his head, his entire body trembling. “Are you okay? I didn’t—Why did you—” 
You raise your hand and his mumbling fades away. Your fingers hover an inch away from his face, you can almost feel the heat, the sweat that gathered in his pores. You give him a pleading look. 
“Can I?” Can I touch you?
He chokes out, “Yes.” Please do.
You rest your hand against his cheek. Just as you expected, his skin is damp. Your thumb rests right under his eye and you caress the soft skin. You’re surprised that he leans into your touch, seeking more of the comfort you promise to provide. You close your eyes and sigh.  You allow your hand to slide to his neck, smoothing out the nooks and crannies in his shoulder.
Javier groans as he dips down, you feel his lips on your neck, tongue darting to clean the blood. A whimper escapes you when he tenderly kisses the wound, his mouth moving slowly, gradually. Like he’s kissing your mouth. Heat coils in your stomach. Arousal pools between your legs. You play with the short hairs that are mussed against the back of his neck. 
“Do you want to talk about it?” you ask, breathless. 
He shakes his head, his voice stern. “No.” 
So you don’t. 
Javier crashes into you, breathing you in. It’s desperate, needy, and fearful. In fear of what—you’re not sure, but you have some guesses. 
You throw away your shirt and in a fit, you kick off your sweatpants. Even those brief moments of being a part are too much for you to handle, you drink him in like you would a fine wine. Your lips crashing into his again and again. 
You moan into his mouth and he swallows them all. Sucking your tongue between his teeth, he nips the soft muscle and squeezes your hips, grinding himself against your clothed sex. Your fingers trace the fabric of his shirt, tugging, but not attempting to remove it. He licks your bottom lip before breaking away from you, he sits back on his knees. 
“Sorry,” he says. “You must think I’m trying to be all mysterious. I swear I’m not.” 
“I wasn’t thinking that. You don’t have to remove it if you don’t want to,” your eyes drop to his crotch, a grin tugging at your lips as you witness the bulge. You drag your foot up his thigh. He shudders. “All we need is down here.” 
“Aren’t you charming,” his tongue thoughtfully moves over his bottom lip. You sigh as you remember how it felt against your own. “Just promise me you won’t ask any questions. I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t even want to think about it.” 
You make a cross over your heart and raise your hand, he chuckles. 
“Alright then.” 
You’re ashamed to admit it, but you’re acting a bit like you’re in heat. He slowly peels the fabric off and your hands immediately find a spot on his waist. Your mouth waters at the exposed skin. You smooth your palms over his stomach, your lips pursing to leave kiss after kiss over his torso. 
You notice it as you start leaning over. Your eyes drawn to the massive white scar that runs from Javier’s heart all the way down to his Adonis belt. It stands out starkly against his tanned skin. Your breath catches in your throat. The veins in your temples throb loudly in your ears. With a dry mouth, you look up to him and he sees the questions in your eyes. 
“You promised.” 
Fuck, you did but you’re regretting it now.
You’re used to small scars, a bullet wound, or two. Everyone has them, including you. But you’ve never seen a scar this big. It’s death carved into his skin. Your mind races and he fixes you a steady gaze. This cut wasn’t from Kathleen and the resistance, so it must’ve happened before that. But what on earth would leave a scar so big? And how the hell did he survive it? 
Your cheeks feeling unbearably warm, you finally tear your gaze away. You feel his fingers thread through your hair, and they slowly move down to your shoulder, an ache for skin on skin contact. 
You dip down, press your lips above the end of his scar, you feel the dip of his adonis through your mouth. Javier inhales deeply and sharply. Ignoring the heaving of his chest, you dart your tongue out and lick a steady line, following the traces of the closed wound. His nails bite into your scalp, his hips stutter forward, the outline of his cock caught against the curve of your shoulder. 
Words die on your tongue. You want to say something, you’re just not sure what. If you apologized, expressed grief for his past, he would think of it as pity. If you asked about it, he’d say you’ve broken your promise. 
So you thank him instead. 
Javier enjoys that. He pushes his hands between the crease of your underarms and pulls you up, kissing you breathless. He squeezes the meat of your ass and pins you against him. You whine into his mouth. With a grin, he bites your bottom lip and tugs it between his teeth. 
“I want to taste you.” 
“Fuck, Javi,” your eyes roll back and you shudder. Your underwear sticks uncomfortably to your pussy, and it pains you that you’re shaking your head. “As much as I want that…I need your cock.” 
Javier cups your mound, fingers digging into your clothed folds. You gasp when the rough fabric brushes against your clit. You brace yourself by holding his shoulder and pressing your lips into his neck. 
“You’re so wet, shit, baby.” he groans as he grinds his hips, you whimper. “How are you this worked up already? When was the last time you’ve been with someone?” 
Your sudden hesitation to answer earns you an understanding gaze from him. Javier pulls back slightly, the movements of his fingers more gentle. 
“It’s been long,” you whisper and look away. 
“How long?”
“None after the outbreak and even before that...two years.”
He snorts and you fix him a not so serious glare. 
“Don’t pity me. It’s not all bad. I learned how to get rather creative when masturbating.”
“I’m sure you have,” he answers, staring at your darkly. “Can’t wait to see it.”
Javier drags his nose up your neck, you’re positive he can hear how excited you are. Like your heart is about to stop. 
“Say it again,” he grunts. “Tell me how bad you want my cock.” 
You sigh. “So bad.” 
“Mi Perla…I thought you learned how to get creative.” 
He sinks his teeth into your neck and you cry out, your entire body quivering as he holds you upright. He’s quick to lap at the teeth marks, lowering his head, he pushes you back so he can swirl his tongue over your peaked nipple. Arousal gushes between your legs. Your nails digging into his shoulders. 
“Please,” you whisper. “Please, fuck me Javier. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything more in my life. I want you to fill me up with that big cock of yours, fucking me into submission—” 
The last addition stumbled out of your lips, stunning you into sudden silence. You awkwardly stare up at the ceiling, shadows of trees moving and mocking you. Heat spreads under your skin. You don’t realize how tense you are until Javier nips the swell of your breasts, bringing you back to him. His fingers pull at your chin and you find yourself looking into his big brown eyes. 
Your eyes drop to the curve of his lips, and you stop breathing. 
“Fuck you into submission hmm?” he taunts, his pupils blown wide. “Looks like the little firefly is tired of being a hardened criminal.” 
“Shuddup,” you pout, averting your gaze. “Don’t read much into it. I said it in the heat of the moment.” 
“Sure you did, sweetheart.” 
Javier hooks his fingers into your thighs and suddenly you’re falling back down, the old bed creaking with protest. Before you can say anything, his weight presses into you like a heavy blanket. You moan at the heat, the feel of his skin against yours. His lips latch onto a nipple and you spread your legs wide for him, the soft ache in your thighs making your cunt drip. 
“Let’s see if you’re ready to take my big cock,” he rasps, fingers moving to slide your sticky panties to the side. “You want my fingers, baby?” 
You nod and he clicks his tongue with disapproval. 
“If you want me to fuck you into submission, you gotta use your words.” 
You finally snap.
“God, yes. I want your fingers. How many times am I going to have to say it? I want you, Javier. I’m going to explode if you don’t fuck me soon.” 
He grins at your frustration. Two thick fingers slide up between your wet folds, circling your clit. You gasp, teary eyes fluttering shut. His lips touch one, then the other. Then you feel him on your cheeks, nose, neck. You tremble. 
“Don’t tempt me.” 
Two of his fingers sink into your heat without warning, your head falls back with a moan, your legs tight around his frame. Shit, it feels good. Of course he’s good at fingering, god forbid Javier Peña is bad at anything. Your breathing becomes fast paced, your heart beating a mile in your chest. Scissoring his fingers, Javier nips at your chin. Heat coils tight in your stomach. You whimper his name, not knowing what else to do. One part of you is afraid. If you’re feeling this unbridled with just his fingers, what the hell is going to happen to you when he gives you his cock? 
Your fear goes unnoticed by him. He curls his fingers, applies pressure right where you need him. His eyes follow your every expression. You can feel it. Licking your lips, you raise your hips to meet the thrust of his fingers, Javier hums his approval and fucks them deeper. His knuckles brush your aching clit and you scream out, your fingers grabbing his wrist. 
“Too much?” he asks, but his tone lacks any actual remorse. He sounds pleased. 
Asshole. 
“Javi,” your breath hitches and you push yourself off the bed, pressing your lips right where his scar starts. Above his heart. “I need you.” 
The growl Javier lets out reverberates through his chest, sending tremors through the air and into your bones. It’s a visceral sound, primal and raw. Your lips follow the outline of his jaw. He acts like a beast, nuzzling towards your lips and grinding his molars together. 
He pulls out his fingers, a whine ripping from your throat at the sudden emptiness. His mouth brushes the shell of your ear.
“Good thing about being in an abandoned train,” he says, warm breath fanning your damp skin. You shiver. “You can be as loud as you want to.” 
Javier’s hand comes up to your chest and he pushes you back down. Your breath catches in your throat as he looks down at his cock and spits. He wraps a hand around himself, meeting your gaze as he strokes his cock. You hold your breath as he comes closer, every nerve alive and burning.  The head of his cock sinks into your heat, and you both let out a long, breathless moan. 
“Fuuuuuuuck,” you groan, head falling back. “Fuck, that feels good. Holy shit–”   
“It does,” he hums, capturing your lips and speaking between moments of exchanged breaths. “And this is only the tip, querida.” 
With every inch being buried, you feel your body sinking further into the bed. You feel like lead. Pleasure skims your skin. With shallow thrusts, he works you open, stretching you wide. He nips at your collarbone, the sensitive skin tucked between his teeth, he pushes further until he’s flushed against you. 
You’re shaking, your hips frantically trembling and jerking. Javier waits for you to adjust to his size. He’s incredibly deep. So deep that saliva floods your mouth, a bit of spit trailing down the corner of your lips as you cry out. He flexes his cock, and more slick trickles down your thighs. Your hands frantically pull him closer, as if he wasn’t already flushed against your chest, but he obliges, allowing his weight to fully cave down on you. 
“I’m here,” he mutters. You don’t expect the sudden sting of tears filling your lash line. “We’re both alive. We’re both okay.” 
Your walls flutter around him, and he lets out a sharp breath. Meeting his gaze, you blink. 
A sudden guilt consumes you. You should be the one consoling him. He’s the one that was woken up from a nightmare. It should be you saying those things. Not the other way around. But Javier doesn’t seem to mind. He squeezes your hip and pushes himself upright. 
“Can I move?” 
“Please.” 
He slowly rolls his hips, watching his cock disappear into your quivering cunt with heavy lids, a white ring at the thick base. When your hands aimlessly attempt to grab at him, he takes a hold of your wrists, using your arms as a leash. 
“Messy girl,” he huffs, grinding deeper into you. Your eyes roll back. “You’re taking me so well, baby. You’re so fucking wet for me, I love it.” 
A fire builds in your core, slick sounds flooding the small space. Pulling out almost all the way, Javier slams back into you, emptying the air from your lungs. His pace becomes more frantic and desperate with every thrust. Your arms ache as he yanks your body to meet the flush of his hips. The wry hairs at the base of his cock sending jolts up your body, your clit aching from the rough drag of it. You cry out his name, over and over, repeating it like a chant. His cock throbs at the squeak of your voice. Javier buries himself completely inside, grinding himself impossibly deep, stroking the sensitive spot inside. 
You’re not going to last, and if the shallow stuttering of his hips is any indication, Javier isn’t going to last either. You dig your nails into your sweaty palms. His fingers still tight around your throbbing wrists. 
“Kiss me,” you beg with a choked moan. 
And he does. Breathlessly. Again and again. The lack of oxygen makes your head spin. His lips are so soft, so tender. He licks into your mouth, sucks on your tongue. He lets go of your wrists and cups your breasts, rolling the peaked flesh with his thumbs. Your orgasm crests over you like a tide, your chest stammers, your breath catching in your throat. Your muscles go stiff, and then relax again. His cock twitches as you gush around him, slick pouring between your legs and wetting the mattress underneath. 
With clenched teeth, your body arches into him and you bear your neck. He bites into the offered flesh, blossoms of pain making your walls clench around him. Javier moans, laps at your salty skin, groaning, his hips jerk—deeper and deeper—until he becomes still. 
Your entire body is lit aflame as he spills into you. Instinctively, your hands cover your face, soft whimpers seeping into the heat of your palms. His cock pulses, and your muscles tense as you milk him for every last drop, your cunt clenching and fluttering around him. 
Javier smooths his lips over your knuckles, kissing the back of your hands as you slowly come down from your high. Breathing heavily, you allow your arms to go limp and fall. His eyes flit between your lips and eyes, he dips down to claim your mouth in a less draining kiss. 
“That was great,” he breathes into your mouth. “How are you feeling, perla?” 
“Like a hundred bucks,” you answer, grinning. “I forgot how good sex can be.” 
Your smile falters when he pulls out. Now that the heat of your orgasm is fading, you’re not sure what to do. Your body feels nice and limp, and god, you do not want to move. 
His seed trickles down your folds and you let out a soft gasp, your pussy fluttering. Javier seems to enjoy that, he grins and spreads your legs. 
“Bonita.” he purrs, dipping his thumb into the mess. Your head falls. “I’ll get you cleaned up in the morning.” 
“I’ll take care of it,” you answer, making a show of getting up. Javier frowns and wraps his fingers around your ankle, it’s not a tight grip, he’s just holding you. Your gaze drops. “I’ll see you in the morning.” 
“You can sleep here,” he drags the pads of his fingers up your legs and you shudder. “With me.” 
“Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to bother you.” 
“Believe me,” he says, voice dipping. “This is no bother.” 
324 notes · View notes
wandabear · 8 months
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WISH YOU WERE HERE - WANDA MAXIMOFF X FEMALE READER
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Summary: 17 years ago, a New Jersey high school girls’ soccer team travels to Seattle for a national tournament. While flying over Canada, their plane crashes deep in the wilderness, and the surviving team members are left stranded for nineteen months. Based on Yellowjackets
Jules is portrayed by Adelaide Kane. Here.
Author's Notes: A little advice? Please, listen to 'Lighting crashes' when you start 'NOW'.
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Warnings: death, angst, fluff. This is the finale.
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CHAPTER ONE CHAPTER TWO CHAPTER THREE CHAPTER FOUR CHAPTER FIVE CHAPTER SIX CHAPTER SEVEN FINALE
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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤCHAPTER EIGHT
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BEFORE
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The following months were as hard as they expected. Surviving became harder and painful, especially for their spirits. The girls could barely move in that cabin that was surrounded by snow.
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Despite the care of his sister and friends, Pietro's pneumonia ended his life after fighting for weeks.
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Desolation was all Wanda knew for a long time, but thanks to the support of Y/N and the girls, she was able to move on as the months went by. Guilt choked her for a long time until she realized it was beyond what she could do. The death of her twin brother hurt Wanda in the depths of her heart. Soon they will die too.
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But the one who didn't seem to find peace was Y/N; inside her, the guilt grew more and more. Pietro died to save her, and now she was there. Leading a group of hopeless girls trying to survive another day, and in the only way they could.
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Finally the snow disappears, allowing them to bloom with spring, revitalizing their spirits. Of course, that didn't mean they were going to be saved, they had all lost that hope a long time ago. They were just a bunch of girls when before they were a huge team.
But when they least expected it, one day, a small plane flew over that lake, noticing the signals they sent. They all screamed and made as much noise as possible to be seen until Y/N fired the flare with a look full of hope.
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They will return home.
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“The investigation into the cause of the accident remains preliminary.” One of the journalists commented live along with many more outside the New Jersey airport room. “The crash site was over 600 miles north.”
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But before the journalist could continue, the doors opened and some hooded girls left there to go to the truck parked outside. The policemen tried to shield them from the journalists who charged at them like wild beasts thirsty for blood. 
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“Here they come!” One of the reporters yelled. “Let's go!”
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The reporters were clamoring for answers, the camera's shutters clicking every second; the despair on the faces of those girls. Wanda's green eyes widened, completely terrified. Taking care of her, Y/N and Natasha took and tried to get their friends out of that place.
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“Can you tell us anything?” One of them was trying to get the mic closer to Jules, but Natasha just pushed him. “Natasha, what happened?!”
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“Y/N, Who survived?!”
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ “How did you survive the cold?” ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ “Wanda! Where’s your brother?!”
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“How'd you survive for so long?”
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“What happened to the rest?”
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“Tell us something... anything!”
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All those questions haunted them all the way to the police station. Some cried with happiness while others were simply anxious to see their families again.
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The first to arrive were Wanda's parents, who hugged the brunette with so much love and support. Between tears and various affectionate words, they celebrated her return but also mourned the loss of Pietro. Oleg said that they could talk about it later, that the important thing now was to go home.
Everyone's parents came for them, including Natasha and Alexei, the big man ran up and hugged Nat and Yelena like a huge protective bear.
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Everyone was again surrounded by their loved ones, except Y/N and Jules who called home several times but no one came. Auntie Claire never left the house alone unless she was working.
The black-haired girl hung up the public phone and walked towards Y/N in that police station.
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“I tried it like six times.” Jules sighed and sat down next to Y/N, who was looking worriedly towards the door. Why was her aunt taking so long?
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“Me too, I called Claire and mom's house but got nothing.” Y/N sighed and slumped back in the seat. She looked around, noticing how Nat and her parents were approaching them.
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“Hello, girls. We were thinking… Do you want us to take you home?” Alexei offered with a warm look. Melina nodded quickly, delighted with the idea. They always adored those two, they were an odd couple but really good people.
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“Umh… we're actually hoping that-” Jules tried to say but then swallowed hard. “Actually, I would like to know… my mother is not answering the phone. Did mom say that she would come later or something?”
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At that moment, the Maximoffs, who were also nearby, approached standing on one side of the Romanoff’s.
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“Everything's okay?” Oleg asked curiously, noticing how the girls were getting more and more nervous.
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“Mr. Maximoff… My aunt isn't answering the phone. Do you know if she will come?” Y/N stood up, looking at the man with concern.  “I was thinking maybe you knew because you’re neighbors.”
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“Oh, sweetie.” Mrs. Maximoff said with sadness, as did Natasha's parents. “Has no one told you?”
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“You don't know yet?” Melina murmured worriedly.
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“Tell us what?” Jules asked, raising an eyebrow, fearing the worst. “Please, tell us what?”
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“Oh, girls.” Melina placed a hand on both of their shoulders and sighed.  “I think you'd better come with us, okay?”
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“I would like to stay, I don't want my mom to come and not see us here. She will freak out.” Jules said quickly, taking a step back. Of course, she could tell that they had some bad news to give them and she was completely refusing to receive it.
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“Mama... What's wrong?” Natasha frowned, standing next to them.
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“Sweetie…” Melina started and then looked around the other parents, getting their approval. They deserved to understand why Claire hadn't arrived.  They deserved the truth, maybe not in that way, but the girls didn't seem to accept leaving without an answer.  “Claire had a heart attack some time ago.”
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“She died.” Iryna took courage when saying those words, feeling a deep sadness when she saw how tears formed in the eyes of those girls. “She had a heart attack when the plane crash happened. I’m so sorry.”
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Shaking her head, tears running down her cheeks, Y/N was not willing to hear that. Of course she wasn't going to accept it.
She wasn’t going to accept the death of the person who cared for her all her fucking life, after having seen suffering and death in the Canadian taiga.
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“That's not true, she wouldn't leave us.” Y/N narrowed her eyes, taking a more defensive position due to the pain. Like a wounded animal.
Y/N just hugged Jules, who just started crying uncontrollably.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
 Feeling enormously sorry for them, their friends tried to comfort them and the adults just decided to give them the necessary space for it.
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“You can come with us if you want.” Alexei offered them, hugging Y/N and Jules for some time. Claire and Melina had always been good friends, that's how she met Nat.
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“I- I don’t know.” Jules stammered through tears, she couldn't even speak. “I just want to know what happened. I just want my mom, I wanna go home-”
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“Please, at least for tonight. Come with us, okay?” Melina asked both of them, taking their hands.
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“You know that you count on us for whatever you need.” Iryna, Wanda's mother, offered with immense tenderness. Wanda nodded quickly.
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After a moment, Jules nodded and took a step forward, realizing that her mother wasn't coming. Her mom passed away a long time ago and she just wanted to know why.
But unlike Jules, Y/N couldn't just leave it like that. The pain inside began to consume her, the rage and the anger that she felt against this world so difficult and destructive. How is it possible? After suffering so much. This was messed up.
Y/N clenched her fists tightly.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
“Y/N?” Wanda noticed the tension in her girlfriend and approached her, taking Y/N’s fist in her hands. She didn't care that her parents saw it, Wanda loved that girl with all her heart. “Please, come with us.”
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Green eyes looked at Y/N's, and even though that connection was still there, something was broken in Y/N. And she knew something was off.
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“I just-” Unable to speak of what she felt or accept it, Y/N swallowed and moved away from her, letting go of the brunette's hand. “I have to get out of here.”
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Y/N took a few steps back, ready to escape.
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“I’m coming with you.” Wanda followed her steps but Y/N got in the way, shaking her head.
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“No.” She said quickly, noticing the disappointment in her girlfriend's eyes. And yet, despite that, Y/N decided to swallow hard and move on. “Stay with your family.”
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She couldn't deal with all of this right now, she needed to find some way to escape. “Just… stay.”
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
Y/N walked away leaving the sokovian behind. Leaving the police station, not knowing where to go, she just started walking without a destination. Not knowing that that moment would be a terrible break in her life, and in the lives of those who loved her.
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NOW
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Lightning Crashes
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The hospital doors opened, letting in a desperate woman looking for answers. Her eyes showed the uncertainty and desolation she felt. The place was full of injured people, apparently there was a pretty serious accident nearby. Wanda came after her, trying to keep up.
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“Excuse me? Excuse me!” y/n approached the receptionist, who seemed to be quite busy with all the cases coming in.  “I’m looking for Julia Y/L/N. She works here, she's a doctor.”
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“Excuse me, right now I can't-” The receptionist muttered trying to help many people at once, Y/N was about to lose her mind when a familiar voice made them turn around.
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“Y/N? Come with me.” When she turned around, Y/N sighed, finally seeing a familiar face. Christine, one of Jules's coworkers in the hospital, took her arm and led them to another room.
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Y/N quickened the step, noticing the woman's hurry. “Christine, what's going on? They called me saying I should come-”
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“I know.” Christine stopped when they got out of the operating room.  Wanda frowned, this was not a delivery room. It was the damn operating room.  “We don’t have time so… Look, I shouldn't be telling you this, but I feel like I have to because she's my co-worker and a  good friend, and I owe her so much.”
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Christine swallowed hard, trying to be strong. In a job like this, she had often been the bearer of bad news but she had never had a case so close to her.
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“As you can see, there was a chain reaction crash, we have many injured.” The redhead took a cap and disposable scrub and handed it to her. “Jules and Natasha were there, a van crashed into their car when they were coming here because her water broke two hours ago.”
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Wanda covered her mouth, terrified. But full of innocence, Y/N nodded and looked around her. “Okay, where are they?”
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“Y/N…” Wanda reached out to take her hand.
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Christine cleared her throat, trying to be professional and not shed a tear. “Natasha... she died instantly.”
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Her face paled. Wanda just tried to sit in the nearest chair, feeling horrible dizziness.
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“What? No.” Shocked, it’s all Y/N could say. Tears filled her eyes. “No, that’s not possible. She's fine. She's going to be fine!”
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“I know you're in shock right now and it hurts, but I need you to pay attention to what I'm going to tell you.” Christine put a hand on her shoulder. “Julia is injured, a piece of metal went through her shoulder, and she needs you to be present at the birth.” She sighed. “She doesn't want general anesthesia, so... please put this on and come with me.”
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But Y/N just stood there, not knowing what to do. Her face pale, the ringing in the ears again.  “I- I don’t know how to do it.”
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“You're the only family she has right now. She needs you, she doesn't know that Natasha died.” Christine persisted, hoping Y/N would do it.  “She’s having the baby, you must give her strength to stay with us. Okay?”
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Wanda approached and hugged her for a moment, showing her that she was not alone.  “You can handle this, detka.”
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Y/N just nodded quickly, like an innocent child without understanding anything that was happening around her. She put on those clothes and entered the room with Christine.
Swallowing, Y/N blinked as the lights from the operating room blinded her for a second. Several doctors were around Jules, who was already in labor.
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“You're dilated enough now, this baby is coming right now.” One of the doctors said.
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“I know, I can fucking feel it!” Jules grunted and narrowed her eyes, the pain was too much. Sweat and tears poured down her face, a bit bruised, but nothing serious for now.
Seeing Jules like that, Y/N left that state of shock to walk towards her and take her hand.  “Hey, sis… are you ready to bring the little bee into this world?” ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
Jules smiled a bit exhausted, squeezing Y/N’s hand gently.  “Hey you… I'm ready to kill Strange when I get out of here.”
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“Now, push!”
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“Push, Jules.” Y/N looked at her and nodded, giving her all the strength she needed. Jules took a deep breath, then pushed hard, squeezing her sister's hand. The pain is exponentially intolerable.
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“Oh my god!”  She screamed.  Her jaw tensed as did every muscle in her body.  ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
“It's going great, it's almost ready... Now it’s going to be harder, but we need it, okay? Push!”
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Y/N stayed by her side every moment, smiling, crying, saying the most beautiful words of support.
Felt her hand about to break many times but she didn't care, feeling the pain as an ally to endure the moment.
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“You’re so brave, you know? This is really beautiful, Jules.” Y/N smiled tenderly and whispered in her ear. “You're doing great, I'm so proud of you. You’re going to be such a good mom.”
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The raven-haired girl nodded and took a deep breath, knowing she had to push again, but before reason came to her.
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You're going to be such a good mom.
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“Y/N?” Eyes brimming with tears, Jules turned to look her in the eye. “Where's Natasha?”
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Y/N didn't know what to say, just swallowed and cradled Jules's hand in hers, she didn't know anything. No one told her anything so that her condition wouldn't worsen, but how could Y/N hide something like that from her sister?
The heartbreaking silence caught them again like a wild beast. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
“Y/N… Please tell me, where is Nat?” Jules pleaded with a shaky voice. This time, tears of sadness began to fall down her face.
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Y/N sniffled. “She… Natasha did not survive the crash. I'm sorry.”
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Jules brown eyes only expressed deep, heartbreaking sadness.
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“No… God, no… She can't be dead, I still feel her here.” Jules begged and placed a hand on her chest; they both began to cry together before the loss. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
The loss of a best friend and of a soulmate. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
“PUSH!” The doctor's requests became more and more insistent, they were the last pushes.
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In a scream of pure pain, physical and especially emotional, the woman screamed, pushing harder than ever. Screamed because of the helplessness she felt, she screamed because of the injustice, she screamed because of her broken heart.
A heart that was beating wildly.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ “I'm here with you, okay? You will never be alone. I love you.” Y/N reminded her over and over again, closing her eyes and giving Jules all the support in the world in that last push.
And after that, a hopeful cry made them both look at the doctor, who soon handed the little baby over to the nurse. After wrapping it in a blanket, Christine walked over to show the baby to them.
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“It's a beautiful girl.” Christine said tenderly seeing how Jules smiled completely in love, excited, destroyed. That beautiful, reddish baby who moved her hands desperately seeking connection.
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“Look at her… You’re a mom now.” Y/N smiled and kissed her sister's forehead, watching her niece with enormous tenderness.  “Baby bumblebee is a girl, look at her.”
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“She’s beautiful… kinda looking like a red potato tho.”  Jules laughed and leaned down to kiss her little girl's forehead gently. Jules closed her brown eyes for a moment, holding the baby against her chest so she could say some last words to her. That was it, all she needed.
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In soft whispers, she said the most beautiful things and the most beautiful promises that Y/N could have heard. And Y/N knew at that moment that this baby would never suffer the same that she suffered with her own mother.
Looking at that tiny adorably newborn, who now had their hearts forever.
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“Y/N…” Jules barely whispered, feeling her muscles begin to lose strength. That was the sad cue to give the little one to Y/N to hold. “You have to take care of her…”
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“Sure I will. With you, with Wanda and Yelena... We will all do it together.” Y/N held the little girl in her arms and nodded. She didn't even know how to hold a baby, but she tried.  It was such a small thing in her hands, how was it possible?
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Jules swallowed and blinked rapidly, reaching out to take Y/N's arm. Her breathing seemed somewhat agitated, quite abnormal.  “Y/N, look at me, promise me you'll take care of her.”
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“I promise. I swear.” Y/N nodded, not quite understanding what it meant.
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Smiling sadly but lovingly, Jules raised her hand to caress her sister's face.  “You know I love you with all my heart, right? There’s no better person than you to do this… I'll be forever grateful.”
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“Do what? What are you talking about?” Y/N frowned.
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“Tell my little girl that we love her, okay? Always remind her of that. Her moms will always take care of her.” The woman sighed, her eyes closing but she fought with all her might to stay awake for a few more seconds. Please, God, just a few more seconds.
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Shaking her head, Y/N approached her sister.  “You will tell her, okay? Just stay awake.”
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A screeching beep made Y/N jump, the little girl in her arms began to cry.  ㅤㅤㅤ
“Jules, what's going on?” She tried to keep Jules awake, but the paleness on her face worried her even more. “CHRISTINE, WHAT’S WRONG?”
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“She's losing a lot of blood!” Christine hurried over so she could see what was happening. Sure enough, blood loss from childbirth was to blame.
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“I'm feeling a little tired.” Jules muttered tiredly.  “Remember you promised.”
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“Please, don’t… don’t do this.” Y/N took her hand and began to cry, begging her to stay by her side. “Please, she needs you. I need you… You are all I have left. You're the only family I have left!” Y/N pleaded, sobbing.
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“I love you, Y/N/N. I'll always be with you.” She smiled at her one last time, finally allowing herself to rest.
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Crying inconsolably, Y/N felt fear, anguish and desolation destroying her.
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“She’s coding!”
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One of the nurses came over to take the baby away, telling Y/N  that they should take her out now.
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“Where are they taking the baby? No, tell me! where is she going?” Y/N screamed in despair.
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Y/N put their hands to their head, completely overwhelmed by everything that is happening around her. The sounds, the screams, the crying.
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“No, no, no.” Y/N repeated over and over again, moving closer to Jules to try to wake her up, cup her face and talk to her.
One of the nurses reached out to pull Y/N away from her, but the woman struggled to hold on to her sister's body. It took three nurses to get her away from Jules, allowing them to start the defibrillator.
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“One, two.” Christine ordered before placing the paddles on Julia's chest. “One, two.”
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Y/N screamed inconsolably, seeing how they tried to save her sister's life but after several attempts, they only found that her heartbeat was no longer heard.
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“Come on, Julia! Stay with us!” Christine asked, trying many more times.
ㅤㅤㅤ But after a few minutes, they stopped. She was gone.
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“Fuck!” The doctor tossed the paddles aside, completely heartbroken.
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Lightning crashes, a new mother dies.
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But the one who was heartbroken was Y/N, watching her sister's body, taking slow steps towards her. But far from seeing that tender look, that adorable smile, she found just a pale and abandoned body.
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“Jules?”  Y/N whimpered like a little girl, reaching out to take her hand. “Jules, no, please. Don’t leave me, please.”
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She allowed herself to stay by Jules' side for a while, venting all her pain.
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“Time of death?”
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“04:30 AM”
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Feeling like it was all a huge sadistic joke on the fucking universe. Auntie Claire was gone, but she still had Jules. A beautiful part of her aunt had remained in her.
Now Jules was gone, and all that remained of her was this little girl.
Completely numb, she left that room with a lost look. What had to be done now? Where to go? Y/N walked slowly down the hall, until Wanda finally saw her.
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“Detka? What is it?” The sokovian asked desperately. Those red eyes showed that she had been crying for a long time over the loss of Natasha. “Is Jules okay? Are they both okay?”
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Still looking blank, Y/N murmured: “She died.”
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“What? No!” Wanda shook her head, she couldn't believe all this.
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“She died after giving birth.” Y/N swallowed. “I'm so sorry.”
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“Oh my god.” Wanda burst into tears, holding on to the wall for a moment. “a-and the baby?”
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“It’s a girl. She’s at the baby nursery now.” Finally coming out of her shock at seeing Wanda suffer like that, she went over to hug her. So tightly, allowing both of them to cry together.  “What the hell is going on?”
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The hours passed, Y/N looked down, seeing her black coffee that she was holding in her hands. Wanda was on the phone with Yelena and Natasha's parents to explain the situation to them. Of course it was one of the most difficult moments of her life.
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“They’re going to fly from Ohio, going to the airport now.”  Wanda sighed, walking over and putting her phone in her pocket. “Yelena was really pissed off, but I heard that Alexei was devastated. Melina too.”
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Gently, she took her girlfriend's arm and rested her head on Y/N’s shoulder.
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“I'm sorry you have to go through all this.” Y/N murmured, drinking that coffee that didn't even seem to save her this time.
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“You don't have to be sorry, they were my friends too. Our friends, our sisters.” Wanda sighed. “I love you, and I will always be by your side. I'll support you in everything.”
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Y/N tilted her head to see Wanda and confirmed once more that this woman was the love of her life. That she had always been by her side, and she always would be.
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“It's all so unfair, you know? How is it possible?” Y/N swallowed hard so she wouldn't sob again. “How is it possible that we survived so much to end up like this?! Is this karma for what we did?”
ㅤㅤㅤ
“No, detka. Of course not.” Wanda cooed, hugging her.
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A few minutes later, one of the nurses came out of the door and invited them inside. After agreeing to sign some papers and follow some steps, they approached the nursery ward, looking through that huge window at the adorable babies in their cribs.
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Y/N looked for the little girl somewhat worried, what if she wasn't there? Fear washed over her until she was finally able to recognize her, not far from them.
Wanda smiled as soon as she saw her.
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“She’s a beautiful baby.” The nurse smiled, showing them the test results. Everything was okay, the baby girl was healthy. “What's the little girl's name?”
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That question clearly affected Y/N deeply, she justtried not to get emotional again. Those eyes were tired from crying.
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“They wanted to keep it as a surprise.” Wanda answered for her girlfriend, squeezing her arm in support.  “They didn't get to tell us.”
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The nurse nodded sadly and was about to leave until Y/N spoke.
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“Natalia.” Y/N whispered. “Because… because their names were  Natasha and Julia… and… i-if you mix the names… I think Natalia sums it up pretty well.”
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The nurse nodded, wrote down that name so she could put it on the bracelet that the baby would wear for the rest of the night. Natalia Romanoff Y/L/N.
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“Is it stupid?” Y/N whispered to Wanda, who just shook her head. “Do you think they would like it?”
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“It’s a beautiful name, detka.” The brunette kissed her cheek. “Do you know what it means?”
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Y/N just shook her head, trying not to pout.
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“It means ‘natale domini’, christmas day. A sweet name like Natalia will always remind her how loved she is, they'll love it.” Wanda hugged Y/N's, both watching that adorable baby. The nurse took Natalia in her arms and brought her closer so they could see her.
ㅤㅤㅤ
Oh, she was adorable even yawning.
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“I don't know how to do this.” Y/N confessed quietly, completely terrified but ready to face that huge monster called fear.
ㅤㅤㅤ
And by her side, Y/N had the most important woman in the world. Wanda looked at her with those green eyes full of love, swearing her loyalty forever. “I will help you, detka, everything will be fine. You can do this.”
ㅤㅤㅤ
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Desperate and tired, Y/N moved from one side to the other holding that baby of barely eight weeks. She spent nights without being able to sleep well, completely in despair.
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“Please, Natalia. Stop crying.” Y/N begged, squeezing her eyes shut to keep from exploding. Little Natalia had been crying for a long time and nothing seemed to calm her down. Y/N was holding a bottle with the infant formula that the doctor recommended.
Y/N gently left the baby in the crib next to her favorite bear, but nothing happened. Natalia kept screaming even more, as if she was daring her lungs to explode.
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“You don't want to eat, your diaper is clean! What the hell do you want?!” Y/N yelled so tiredly, but after a few seconds she started crying next to the baby. “What do you want from me?! I miss and need them too!” Y/N sobbed.They both shared that moment of pain.
ㅤㅤㅤ
Auntie Claire was gone. Jules was gone. Natasha was gone.
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Now there was only that little baby left, that adorable little thing next to her and it wasn’t her fault for coming into a desolate world.
She was all Y/N had left of the people she loved the most. How not to be patient with that little bee? It wasn't her fault, and it wasn't Y/N's either.
She allowed herself to cry for a moment and then wiped away her tears, taking Natalia in her arms again. “Now it's just the two of us, okay? They screwed us like that, we have to deal with it.”
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Y/N sighed.
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“Okay, let’s try something new…” Y/N walked to the window, looking around with the baby in her arms. She got a nice apartment some months ago. “Your grandma Claire used to sing this… she was such a fan, and your mama loved it too.”
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“I hear your voice. It's like an angel sighin'. I have no choice, I hear your voice… feels like flying. I close my eyes, Oh God, I think I'm fallin'...” She sang softly, like a lullaby. “Like a child, you whisper softly to me. You're in control, just like a child now I'm dancing.” 
ㅤㅤㅤ
Incredibly, the little girl began to calm down little by little. That heartbreaking cry now turned into A curious look, those little hands trying to catch Y/N's face.
Y/N smiled seeing this great progress, encouraging herself to move a little like a little dance. “It's like a dream… No end and no beginning. You're here with me, Natalia, it's like a dream… cause when you call my name, it's like a little prayer.”
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“Life is a mystery, everyone must stand alone. I hear you call my name and it feels like home.” Natalia moved her hands excitedly, watching every movement of Y/N's lips, even gurgling.
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“That’s it. You liked it, didn't you?” Finally achieving the first bond with the baby, Y/N let out a small laugh of happiness between tears. “I love you, Natalia… I will take care of you forever, even if I have to give my life for you.”
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She kissed Nat’s forehead and continued rocking her for a while, noticing that now the girl was no longer trying to let go. She just relaxed in those soft arms, beginning to fall asleep until someone knocked on the door.
Y/N walked towards the door, meeting a worried Wanda on the other side.
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“I read your message, I came as soon as the twins left with Vision.” The brunette approached to kiss her then watched little Nat gurgling.  “Everything's okay? What is it?”
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“That’s from the past, now we are at peace.” Y/N smiled and took the bottle to see if Natalia wanted to try it. After a few seconds, the little girl accepted.  “She was crying and I didn't understand what she wanted.”
ㅤㅤㅤ
“I'm proud, Y/N.” Wanda smiled tenderly. She took off her jacket and walked Y/N to her bedroom.
ㅤㅤㅤ
“Can you stay with me?” Y/N begged with cute eyes and an adorable pout. “With us?”
ㅤㅤㅤ
Biting her lower lip, watching the love of her life rocking that baby slowly, Wanda just nodded, feeling a strange sensation of familiarity and peace inside her.  “Of course, my love.”
ㅤㅤㅤ
Fifteen minutes later, they were both lying on the bed, watching as Natalia drank her bottle happily cuddling between them. ㅤㅤㅤ
"We've been waiting for you, now you are here. More perfect than I imagined, our house is now a nest. No matter where you go, sunlight shines on you.’
ㅤㅤㅤ
Surprising Y/N with her beautiful voice, Wanda smiled seeing that Natalia closed her cute eyes and relaxed with that lullaby, letting go of the bottle.
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“That was beautiful.” Y/N whispered, lost in the beauty of her beloved.ㅤㅤ Wanda smiled tenderly. “You are.”
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Wanda gently leaned in to give her a short kiss, trying not to disturb the little girl.
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“So… How about we get a boat?” Y/N joked. Vision deposited the money into her bank account the day before, so everything was fine between them for now.  “Mmm… no… College fund, right?”
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Wanda bit her lips, trying not to laugh.  “Yes, college fund… And pay our bills.”
ㅤㅤㅤ “And put a down payment on a boat.” Y/N teased again, settling between the huge pillows. Wanda did the same, taking Y/N’s hand.
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“We’re not getting a boat.” The sokovian whispered, closing her eyes a bit tired.
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“But they're fun.”
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“They're expensive.”
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“You’re right.” Y/N grimaced and closed her eyes as well, feeling the exhaustion in her body overcome her little by little. 
ㅤㅤㅤ
“College fund, pay our bills and some nice vacation on a beach.” Wanda smiled tenderly when she saw how Natalia was completely sleepy.  “There's gotta be some fun in our lives.”
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“I like that.” Y/N smiled sleepily. “I love you…”
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Watching that adorable moment in front of her, Wanda knew that the answer to the question she was asking herself for a long time had already been answered.
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“I love you too, detka.”
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But maybe it was time to go further. And although Y/N didn't know it, Wanda was ready to offer her to move in together. Why not?
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“Okay, Natalia. Hold on tight.” Y/N said to the little girl as she adjusted the baby carrier on her chest. Little Natalia smiled tenderly and moved her little legs excited for her.  “We're going on our first adventure.”
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When little Natalia turned five months old, Wanda and Y/N found a nice place to live together. Of course the twins were delighted with the idea, because having a little sister for them was something really important.
Wanda explained to them the importance of taking care of Natalia and making her their family. But the twins didn't need explanations, they loved the little redhead already.
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And slowly, Y/N learned to be a responsible parent.
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She learned that loss didn’t mean having to destroy everything around her, and making Wanda happy and giving Natalia a better life was all she wanted.
Y/N learned how to deal with diapers as well as crying at night, or also with paranoia and fear of losing the little girl.
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Sometimes she stayed watching her for a long time, thinking about how much she resembled to them. Natalia hated being around too many people and cheeky like Natasha, but she also was so warm like Jules.
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“Do you think she will like it?” Y/N asked the twins with some concern, showing them a small velvet box. A beautiful ring was waiting to be delivered to Wanda that night.
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Little Natalia observed the ring with curiosity wanting to grab it so badly, with just a year she didn’t understand anything they said, but she could say things like: ‘Mamma' and 'mommy’.
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“She will love it!” Billy grinned and Tommy nodded. They were both quite excited, and that made Y/N's heart beat faster. The twins have always been a great support.
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Nodding, Y/N knew she had to take the biggest and most important step of her life.
And she did it, because the wedding was the most beautiful moment of their lives.
Wanda's tears of happiness and Y/N's huge happy smile showed it in the pictures. ㅤㅤㅤ
And of course she missed Natasha and Jules a lot, but Y/N knew that wherever they were, they would be happy for them.
Y/N and Yelena formed a much stronger bond, completely unconditional in the absence of their sisters. Both were clear that the important thing was also to give Natalia a beautiful family.
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EIGHT YEARS LATER
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“Natalia, your aunt Yelena is here!” Y/N's voice made the adorable redhead startle and leave her room, but not before grabbing her backpack.
Y/N and the blonde walked to the kitchen, where Wanda was baking some cookies.
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“You better take care of her.” Y/N pointed at the blonde and sat down at the table to enjoy some cocoa and cookies. “If you're going to take her fishing in Alexei’s boat, don't let her fall. She's learning to swim.”
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“She will master it soon.” Yelena arched an amused brow and stole one of the cookies, taking a bite. Of course, Y/N's serious look made her add,  “I'm just kidding with you, Y/N Y/L/N. We'll just visit my parents and fish in the boat for a little while. Talk about stuff… that’s it.”
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“We know.” Y/N kissed Yelena’s cheek, just to annoy her even more. “I just like to annoy you.”
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“Ugh.” The blonde teased, wiping her cheek.
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“Here's something to eat, in case you don’t wanna buy something.”  Wanda smiled when she saw them and took two lunch boxes and a box of fresh cookies.   “Chicken paprikash, mac and cheese, your favorite I know, and cookies.”
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“Wanda Maximoff, you are a sweetheart.” Yelena sighed exaggeratedly and leaned in to kiss her cheek, this time trying to annoy Y/N.
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Y/N just giggled and tossed her a small chocolate chip.
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“Okay, it's time. I'll call you as soon as we get there, okay?” Yelena said goodbye to both and walked towards the door.  “Let’s go, Natalia!”
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“Coming!”  An adorable eight-year-old girl ran down the stairs. She was a redhead, like Natasha and her eyes were light brown like Jules. Natalia was fierce, kinda sarcastic and brave, but also adorable, smart and kind.
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The little girl approached Y/N, hugging her mother tight. “I’ll miss you, mom.”
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Smiling tenderly -and fighting not to turn into an overprotective bear- Y/N hugged her daughter for a moment. “Take good care of your aunt, okay? She’s crazy. Send some hugs to mama Melina and Alexei. Tell them we miss them.”
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“Yes, mom!” Natalia smiled toothly. “I'm going with Auntie Yelena, I love you both!”
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The little girl kissed Y/N's cheek and then ran to hug Wanda's waist, who kissed the little girl's forehead.  “Be careful, okay? We love you, baby.”
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“Yes, mama!”
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“Take care, kiddo!” Y/N got up to see how the girl ran towards the porch, meeting the blonde one. “Don't forget to call us, okay?”
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Y/N remained watching the place, until Wanda hugged her from behind, snuggling up against her.
There was her little girl, ready to start a new adventure.
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It didn't take long for them to decide to have another baby together. Wanda tried an IUI to become mothers and after one attempt, they miraculously managed to conceive a beautiful and healthy baby.
Y/N was quite nervous, fear and memories of her sister in the hospital haunted her, but little by little, Wanda made her understand that everything would be okay.
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Nine months later, they both welcomed an adorable baby girl they named Luna Maximoff-Y/L/N.
The children were delighted, even though Natalia felt a bit insecure, when the tiny redhead saw her new sister she swore to take care of her forever. Forming an inseparable bond.
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Smiling, seeing how Wanda held her little newborn daughter, singing a tender sokovian lullaby, Y/N knew that although life was sometimes hard, it also had happy and memorable moments.
This was more than a happy place. This was a family.
And she deserved it.
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And time passed, year after year, full of happiness.
Of course there were some complex moments, not everything in life is happy moments but always, there were always more beautiful than ugly moments in the lives of those women.
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Wanda and Y/N had a beautiful marriage for almost forty years. They saw their twins grow up and become good, kind and respectful men.
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Natalia became an incredible, respectable, successful and loving woman. Of course she was a little rebellious at times like Natasha, but she also had responsible moments like Jules. She met an adorable girl on a trip and fell madly in love.
Wanda and Y/N always reminded her that Nat and Jules were her real mothers and they always came to the cemetery to leave some flowers.
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Luna was an adorable girl, she was like Wanda. Even with her brown hair and beautiful green eyes, Y/N told Luna that she was her little 'firecracker' because she had her adventurous spirit.
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Y/N lived the most beautiful years to the fullest, even when Wanda passed away two years before her, Y/N knew that together they had lived a beautiful life. And death, like loss, no longer affected her the same way.
That night, Y/N passed away sleeping and letting herself fall asleep, leaving in absolute peace.
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Opening her eyes slowly, Y/N felt like someone was poking her over and over again inviting her to wake up. “Hey, you.”
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A male voice made her eyes widen.  “Wake up, lazy ass!”
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Y/N got up quickly from the ground, looking moved at the boy in front of her. Pietro looked exactly as he was before the plane accident; his wild hair, those green eyes sparkled.
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“Finally!” He smiled. She looked around her, it was a nice quiet place, like a warm spring afternoon. Though she had no idea where she was.
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Without waiting any longer, Y/N hugged him tightly, closing her eyes. Saying over and over again how sorry she was, and how much she owed him. How thankful she was.
Year after year, the guilt over Pietro's death washed over her and she was finally letting it go.
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“Everything is okay, captain, all that is behind us.”  Pietro hugged the girl and smiled tenderly.
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“Well, I'm getting a bit jealous over here, and you?”
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“A bit, yes.” This time it was Natasha, giving Jules a little nudge at her side. They looked exactly as she remembered them, so beautiful. 
ㅤㅤㅤ
“Nat?” With tears in her eyes, Y/N wasted no time in running to them and hugging them. “Jules!”
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“What? Did you think you'd never see us again?” Jules teased, hugging her tightly. “Thank you for everything you did for our little girl.”
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“We are proud to see the woman she has become thanks to you and Wanda.” Natasha smiled and ruffled Y/N's hair.
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“That little girl stole my heart from the first moment, I'm glad you are happy.” Y/N sniffled.
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“We are really happy.”
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“I'm sorry you couldn't have-” Y/N tried to say but her friends just shook their heads.
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“We were always there with you.” Jules smiled and put her hand on Y/N’s shoulder.
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Closing her eyes for a second, Y/N got lost in that touch that felt so real to her. Wasn't she dreaming?
Suddenly her eyes widened, looking around her with excitement. “Wanda… where is she?”
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Natasha smiled. “First you must be sure of what you will choose.”
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Y/N frowned.  “What do you mean?”
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“Do you want to stay or do you want to come with us?” This time Jules spoke, all of them began to walk down that path between the trees.
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“You must leave all longing behind, you must first accept it.” Pietro nodded.  Of course he was referring to her family, who were still alive.
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Y/N thought for a moment. Her children would be fine, they were old enough to move on their own. It was her time to move on too.
ㅤㅤㅤ
“They'll be fine.”
ㅤㅤㅤ
With a smile, the three looked at each other and then stepped aside.
Behind them, Wanda was looking at her with a huge smile and a hopeful look.
ㅤㅤㅤ
“Detka!”
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Without further ado, they hugged each other again, stronger than ever. Their souls finally found each other, entwining once more. “Wands… I missed you, so bad.”
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Y/N kissed her lips over and over again, desperate for having missed her so much.
Wanda smiled between kisses.  “I missed you too.”
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They held each other for a moment until Y/N felt how they were surrounded. Not only her friends, but also other people.
One of them made her let go of Wanda’s arms. Y/N felt that the time -if it existed there- stopped completely.
It had been a long time since she saw that girl.
ㅤㅤㅤ
“Hey.” Sharon waved, smirking slightly. Sharon, Helen, Carol, Kate and all the girls who died in that place were around her. This time not like a horrible and haunting nightmare, no. This time it was a welcome.
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Y/N blinked and waking up from the reverie, she violently approached her to stop in front of Sharon. She did nothing but feel her tears fall.   “I'm sorry about everything. I didn't mean it to end like that, I'm so sorry. I spent all these years thinking about that, I didn't want you to die. I'm so sorry, Sharon.”
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She finally cried, letting go of the guilt. Y/N carried Sharon's death for a long time.
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“Can you forgive me?” Y/N asked Sharon, taking her hand, but the blonde squeezed her hand as a clear answer.
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“Only if you can forgive us too.” Sharon nodded and just hugged her. “I never hated you, we were young and stupid. We made a lot of mistakes in a place that wasn't for us, but all that is behind us. This place is to rest... all those pains left behind.”
ㅤㅤㅤ
All of them hugged Y/N tightly, welcoming her to a whole new place. Where pain, revenge, violence was left behind.
One by one the whole team approached to join that hug. Like the first time, like that first time after winning the match. If only that plane accident hadn't happened, oh that team would have been unstoppable.
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BUZZ! BUZZ! BUZZ!
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They all cheered, happy, free.
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“Okay, move on from here.” Yelena growled. “We must move on, I'm sick of seeing you all even in the fucking heaven.”
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Y/N turned to look at her, confused. “This is heaven?”
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“Yeah, we don’t know? It's more like… a place made up of many heavens? Individual ones? Each of us can rest and lose ourselves in the moments we decide to remember.” Wanda explained, narrowing her eyes, some of the girls nodded. “We don’t need to understand, just… be here. Unless you are a very evil person, we don't know what happens there.” ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ
“But if you're not evil... everyone gets a piece of paradise.” Jules smiled widely.
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“We can visit others, but only soulmates can share the same place.” Natasha kissed her wife's cheek, hugging her.
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 “Ready to meet ours?” Wanda smiled and took the hand of the love of her life.
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Y/N inhaled deeply and then nodded. Finally smiling, ready to rest. “Yeah.”
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Yup, this is the end. 🐝 I hope I didn't disappoint you. And it was good for you. I know it has not much to do with the tv show -more than the plane crash and some stuff- and I'm happy with that. Maybe there are some one shots later, explaining some moments. Pietro's death and everything...   So, thank you very much for reading me, it is always a delight to know that you are here with me. 🐝
the cutest and lovely BEES tags ✨ @kaiidth-wandika @yourfavunsub @pawiie @fanboy7794 @sunsol-22 @scarlettbitchx @arcturusseer @imnotasuperhero @chtte @lesbians-in-outer-space @starry-night17 @cristin-rjd @kenlymar @chtte @marvelogic @druggedduck @aliherreraaa @widowwaddles @gingiesworld @canyonyodeler smromanoff @romanoffomixam✨
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hongjoongscafe · 9 months
Text
Bloody Love...
Chapter: I -Eyes-
♠︎Pairing: yandere!king!jungkookxoc(coronis)
♠︎Genre: angst, smut, yandere, gore, dark romance, horror, creepy (dark fantasy).
♠︎Summary: "you happen to be in a world where wrong is right and right is wrong."
♠︎Word count: 2.1k+
♠︎Warning: physical abuse, dead animal, non-consensual touching, murder, stalking, nudity.
♠︎Note: lemme know if you wanna be added to the permanent or specific taglist!
♠︎Masterpost
♠︎Serieslist
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Far away from the mellow kingdoms, was the realm of Jeon. From far away, the gloomy, blue-grey sky was evident. No one from other kingdoms even dared to look towards that domain.
It reeked of sins. From far away, one could hear the screams of the commoners. No one dared to even think about following the path after the sun dimmed down. But the thing was that the kingdom was miles and miles away. It took almost three days to travel from the nearest kingdom to Jeon’s realm by horse. That single fact sent chills down others’ spines. Even from that far away, they could hear the wrong happenings.
The skies above his realm looked dull, blue-grey. The clouds of madness always covered the sky. It was all hunted. The King haunted the realm. His bureaucrats danced with the movements of his fingers. They were his puppets and he was the puppet master.
No one has ever seen his face other than those who worked in his castle. The commoners always heard that sometimes, the King himself would come patrolling but all of his warriors wore heavy masks. Dressed in black cloaks hiding half of their face. The lower half would be covered with black cloth. Metal chains dangling from the big wide metal ferronnière.
They rode their dark horses. Whenever they passed by, the zone would become quiet, eerily quiet. No one in their right mind would raise their head to look at them and go against them. The fear among those peasants was his majesty's pride. He loved the look of fear, the way their eyes trembled, and mouths mumbled for forgiveness even though they did nothing wrong.
This was just one per cent of his wickedness. The dirty secrets remained in his realm but his dirty secrets remained in his castle.
The castle.
It was far away from the region where commoners lived. Everything that came in the way of the castle was creepy. The mist always covered the path. They say that this mist was the souls of those who died there. And there were many… mounds of them. And most of them didn’t die naturally.
It was as if dark mist spiralled over the realm.
“Coronis! Bring back the calf! Draco has to go to get meat from the Henrys,” Coronis’ mother asked from the kitchenette.
“In a moment!” Coronis looked at her reflection through the water in a wooden bucket. Her hair was black, her pretty eyes were painted with Kohl. Her lips were chapped but the tint from the beetroot she patted a while ago was making her lips look luscious. And the natural tint on her cheeks.
She was known to be beautiful in the village. Men felt honoured even if she breathed in their path. Though she didn’t come out of her shack as much. She lived there with her parents, Draco and Martha, an older brother named Onyx, and a younger sister of eight years, Circe. She herself was eighteen soon to turn nineteen.
After being satisfied with her looks, she hummed and went inside and picked up the rope and took a sharp knife with her. Letting her mother know, she stepped out to get her calf back.
Knife.
She wasn't going to kill anyone. Unless.
The chilly air threaded through her hair and her white gown fluttered along the wind.
On her way to the meadows, she saw a man beating a woman, most likely his wife, with a whip. Her face was red and blue from the punches she had received. But no one paid any attention to them.
A little further, she saw a dead pig on the side of the path, and an old man was slicing it open. Coronis scrunched her eyebrows and looked away. It was common to see these heartless humans doing bloody shit.
This realm moved with the saying ‘You live until you survive.’
Near the meadows, she saw a girl being touched by much older men, probably without her wish. Her cheeks were soaking from tears. Her delicate hands were trying to push away the men but her hands were delicate and those men were dedicated.
Reaching the meadows, she made it quick to find the calf. Seeing her stamp on the calf, she tied the rope around its neck and pulled it to follow her back to their shack.
There were stamps embroidered on every cattle. It was to mark them as their property. The one's without the stamp were usually killed for food, leather, and jewellery. The animals that were bred to be killed were reserved only for the castle. The men would come on their horses and would fill up their carriers with goods and take them to the castle.
As Coronis was returning, the sound of horses’ clops started coming closer along with their neigh. She knew better and pulled her calf to the corner of the path and kept walking. The horses started passing her. The village quieted down. Only the horses and their riders could be heard.
The path was broken and uneven, and small and big rocks were peeking out of the ground. A man stumbled and fell in front of a horse that was coming from the opposite direction, making it stop. The man got off the horse and picked up that old man with one hand and made him stand again.
“How dare you stumble our way!” He yelled. “Do you not see who is crossing?!”
The old man fell on his knees and held the feet of the patrolman. “I-I-I st-stumbled a-and fell, master! P-please, for-forgive me!”
The patrol man’s chuckle could be heard. He pulled out his sword and made a quick job and sliced his head off.
To Coronis’ bad luck, the head fell just in front of her feet. His bony face was ugly. His teeth were rotting and his beard was dirty. The blood was pouring from where his neck was supposed to be. She looked up at the man who was now getting back on his horse.
But her eyes fell on the man behind him. His eyes were boring holes into her skull. They all wore black cloth from the nose and down, and their foreheads had metal ferronnière but his was heavier and had sharp, long spikes pointing out. The chains were dangling down and were attached to his mask, decorating his face. He wore heavy chains around his neck. His horse was different from others.
She knew he was not any other guard man. He was different. He held power. To what strength, she wasn't aware of that. The higher-ups kept themselves hidden away from the eyes of the commoners.
Coronis didn’t look away from his eyes. They looked into each other’s eyes. Her eyebrows were frowned up. Her face was covered in disgust.
Slowly, they passed by. But that one man remained behind and passed even slowly all while looking into her eyes without blinking. Just like her, he too had kohl painted around his eyes.
She looked at him up and down, his fingers had heavy jewellery and metal nails attached to them. His cloak covered his head. (Lower left picture in the mood board).
His eyes held darkness. The darkness in his eyes was darker than the whole realm and the night itself. He screamed menace. After what felt like a long moment, he passed by and kept moving while she looked at his back.
It all happened slowly. The picture was stuck in her head. It sent chills through her spine. She wished to never cross her path with him. Ever again.
Turning back around, she inhaled sharply seeing that head still laying there. She kicked it away and kept walking.
The moment she opened the door to her shack, her mother's voice rang, “Those men passed by! Are you okay? Did something happen?”
“I'm alright,” she said and went inside the slot that she shared with her sister. “Where is Circe?!” she asked.
“She was in the slot!” her mother said.
“Circe!” Coronis called and went outside. “Circe!” the younger girl turned around and looked at her older sister. “Go back inside! How many times do I need to tell you not to go outside without any of us by your side?” She held her arm and dragged her inside. “And the escorts are marching outside! Do you know how dangerous it is?”
“I'm sorry! I wanted to wander around for a moment. It has been days since I last saw the outside world!” Circe huffed.
“Outside world?! Do you know how bad it is?!” she held her head out of frustration. “Ugh, you will realize one day.”
Coronis was about to turn around when she saw someone outside the window but with a blink of her eye, it was gone. She shook her head and exhaled.
Maybe she was tired.
“Here is your liquor, majesty,” one of the guards bowed as he presented the drink to the king.
The King took the glass. He removed his mask from below and drank it all in one inhale and threw the glass away. “Lord, that is Danny's workshop. He still hasn't paid us the tariff. He is behind by one day and owes ten stones.”
The King smirked under his mask and nodded. He turned his horse and proceeded towards his castle. “You know what to do.”
His eyes moved towards a house where that lady with calf went. He smirked and moved ahead. “You too will realize…”
The whispers woke Coronis up. She rubbed her eyes and sat up. She looked around and saw her sister still sleeping.
It was typical to hear people crying, screaming, or talking outside. But these whispers were eerily low and were coming for one side. She knew exactly what was wrong.
She stood up and walked outside. The people were surrounded by the tall wooden bar that had an arrow above it, there lay a man who was known as Denny. His wife was tied to the pole, naked, and abused. Dead.
Coronis looked at their shack… Burnt.
“Go inside,” Draco asked his older daughter.
“Two hundred and sixty-seventh,” she looked at her father. “This year. On this pole. In only five months,” she remained and counted them too.
“Try to not be the next one,” he said and took her back inside.
“What is going on?” Circe asked.
“Nothing,” Onyx said. “Stay inside.”
“They are doing this more often. They were only a day late in paying the tariff. Just yesterday, when I went to Denny's Housewife for a new knife, she said they would pay the tariff today. Poor them,” Martha sighed and placed the salad on the table with a teapot filled with brewed tea. “Have it.”
Everyone sat around the table and ate their meal. “I'm going to the east,” Onyx said. “They asked me to bring a new supply of opium.”
“When will you be back?” Draco asked.
“Soon.”
After an early meal, Coronis helped Onyx with packing. Later she went to her slot and took out clothes for her to wear and stepped outside to take a bath. The wooden buckets were already filled with water that they brought from the well every day.
After getting rid of her clothes, she used soap and washed herself up. All the while she felt someone staring at her. She looked around but saw nothing. But then her eyes fell on the tree in front of her. It was dense. One could easily hide inside it. There she saw a pair of eyes looking right into hers. She gasped and stumbled back. She quickly picked up the drying cloth to cover herself and ran back inside.
Her breath was huffing. She slid down the door and tried to control her breath. Her eyes fell on the fresh clothes that she took and wore quickly and waddled into the kitchenette. “Do not bathe outside,” she gritted. “There is someone up in the tree.”
Martha looked at Coronis with wide eyes. And then at Cirice who was already looking haunted. Then nodded her head. “Are you alright?”
Coronis shut her eyes tightly and let out a sigh. “No,” she whispered. “Just don't go outside.”
She was afraid. This never happened with her. There were times when she needed to attack people just to come back home with her dignity still intact but this was so much worse. She was even afraid to look outside.
But being protective over her family, she looked outside through the window to see if the man went away or not. There was no one on the tree. She looked around and checked everywhere in her sight but no one.
She turned around but stopped. Turning back she looked at the place where she had left her dirty clothes… all were gone. Even the underclothing.
“Don’t look out. Put that cloth on the window and come back,” her mother said. “Betty's mother has some vegetables left after the sale, I'll get them and come back as soon as possible. Please, look after yourself and Circe,” she opened a drawer and took out a butcher's knife. “Keep this with you,” she whispered and took the smaller knife with her.
.....
Sanaa’s note:
The chapters will get bigger I think? There are so many details I wanna include. Hope you liked this part! Lemme know your thoughts on this one. Feedback really helps me and motivates me to write more. Take care!
The behaviour of all the characters is visualized.
Taglist:
@veneziamadness @cheline @sansmilkbread @jayb17 @constantlydelulusional @8tinytings @tea4sykes; @darkuni63 @mageprincess7
Have a nice day/night💓
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springalwayscomes · 9 months
Text
Closer (Teaser)
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Read Closer here
Plot: To have each other close is something that you both always wanted, in a way or another. It’s just that… close is not close enough anymore for Jungkook.
Pairing: Jungkook x Y/n
Genre: Fluff, Angst, Smut, Domestic, Humor, Friends to Lovers
Wordcount: 27k
Author’s Note: Hello! I hope you’ll like this little teaser, I will publish the story on the 16 of July. I loved writing this, it was an emotional rollercoaster and I honestly can’t wait to post it. I really hope that you’ll like it🥺
If you want to be tagged in my taglist to read this work when it will come out and my others please let me know under this post or here! Also, asks and messages are always welcome, I would like to speak with you all from time to time!💜
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Jungkook walked in on you using your vibrator as a microphone when you were nineteen, lipsynching as if your life depended on it. He had laughed so fucking loud that time that you still feel your ears grow red when you think about it. He has teased you for it from the moment it happened, still does it now.
Back then, it was so freaking hilarious he would bring it up every time you were too mad at him, to make you laugh it off and let go of the heavy atmosphere creating between you every time you used to fight as teenagers.
Five years afterwards, as of now, he still thinks about it from time to time. It makes him giggle when he’s in the middle of a meeting at work, when he has a stressful day, when he’s just laying in bed with his head empty. Usually, that would be the case. Now that you’re sitting on his couch with a bag of pop corns squished in your hands while the tv is playing though, is a new circumstance.
«What are you laughing at? You’re so loud» you wince at him, monotone and annoyed.
He licks his lips, shaking his head.
«Your vibrator still haunts me»
It takes you less than two seconds to realise what he’s talking about.
«You’re so annoying. Should I bring up the time you farted out loud in class too?»
«That’s not the same,» he laughs «I told you that I wasn’t feeling good but you insisted on going to class anyway»
«You didn’t go for three days straight-» you fight back, stopping yourself when the camera points on Park Seojun.
«Gosh, this man. I’m gonna marry him someday» you sigh dreamily. Jungkook snorts.
«Cause I was sick?» he opens the fridge.
«You drank with Jin the night before. You shouldn’t drink if you’re sick. Maybe that’s why you couldn’t hold it until class was over»
«You’re so noisy» he rummages through the shelves, finally finding the bowl of strawberries he was looking for.
«Want some?»
You quickly glance at him over the counter, pop corns stuffing your mouth full.
«No, thanks. I’m full with these»
He gets a spoon from the drawer, walking back to the sofa.
«The face you made when I walked in is still funnier than-»
«When you farted in front of the class?» you cut him off, trying to get some sense in his head.
«Hell, yeah» he laughs.
«You literally-»
«Okay, now stop!» you slap his ass before he gets a chance to sit down.
«Oh, yes keep going» he fakes a moan. You literally want to slap him hard enough to make him stop being an idiot, but you have to hold yourself back.
«Just shut up and let me see Park Seojun» you shake your head. Jungkook gets a spoonful of strawberries into his mouth, eyes falling on the screen and eyebrows pinched together.
It’s a Saturday, thanks God the both of you don’t work on weekends, so usually you both find yourself on the sofa, watching a movie or just messing around. You’ve known each other since you were sixteen, so to say that you’re pretty comfortable with each other is an understatement. Even when you first met him, the nineteen years old Jungkook never made you feel uneasy. You were inseparable. Best friends that used to sleep at each other’s place every three to four days because you were just used to it. It was natural, so natural that a lot of the people around you thought you were a couple. Back then, you would grimace and shake your head vividly, not even giving it a thought. Jungkook would laugh it off, heart beating loudly in his chest every time anyone made him imagine how it would’ve been.
«Do you still have it?» he asks, voice low as he stares at the screen.
«What?» you murmur. He doesn’t answer, his spoon scraping against the plastic of the bowl to get as much strawberries as he can into his mouth. He munches on them, gulping down and enjoying the sweet taste.
«That vibrator»
«Jungkook! What kind of question is that?» you stop the drama, his thigh getting hit by the remote.
«I was just asking!» he raises his hands as to make sure you understand he meant no harm, the bowl now sitting on his lap.
«Why would you ask that?» your tone makes his eyes smile first, as he always does. His eyes smile first, then his lips just follow.
«Why are you so sensitive about it? I won’t ask, but we both know you still use it» he gets up from the couch, getting to the sink to put the empty bawl inside.
«We say filthier things when we’re in bed!» he goes on from where he’s standing at. Your head is going to explode. It’s at times like this that you rethink about your life choices. From being sixteen and dumb, until you’re twenty four and ending up with sleeping with your best friend.
«In bed! Leave those for when we’re in bed!» you fight back, another pop corn getting shoved into your mouth.
«Okay,» he appears by your side «wanna go to bed so I can ask you?»
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chaotic-orphan · 9 months
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June of doom, day nineteen:
That’s going to be one hell of a scar : cage // pliers // scrape
CW: team Whump, leader whump, threats, carving/ cutting ( explicit), blood (explicit), intimate whumper, scary whumper, evil whumper, creepy whumper, defiant whumpees, multiple whumpees, knife mentioned, torture (explicit and graphic), mention of past injury, fear of darkness?, Self sacrifice
Very long and very late I am sorry, enjoy
*~*~*~*~*
“Leader? Leader!” Medic whispered through the darkness, rousing Leader from their light nap. “Leader?”
“I’m here, Medic,” said Leader, voice reassuring. Leader was sitting with their back against the wall, no, not wall. Leader turned with a groan, their muscles still heavy with sleep and their last fight with Supervillain. Leader’s hand found cool metal bars and that woke them up immediately.
Their last battle with Supervillain… Leader remembers their team sweeping in just in time, just as Supervillain’s fist came down on their temple and darkness swallowed them.
Fuck.
“Supervillain has us?” Leader asked quietly.
“He used you as leverage. Told us to surrender or he’d kill you. I’m sorry Leader.”
“No,” said Leader with a grunt, sitting back against the bars. No wonder they were aching all over. “No don’t be sorry. I would have done the same thing. Where are you?”
Leader squinted against the darkness trying to locate Medic, or anything for that matter. They could barely see their nose in front of their face.
“I’m— I think I’m in a cage,” said Medic. Their voice came from the right. Leader lifted their arm through the bars trying to feel for another cage but felt nothing. They took a sharp breath as the reaching movement aggravated a stabbing pain in their ribs. “Leader?”
“I’m okay,” said Leader through grit teeth. Fuck, Supervillain had gotten a few good hits on Leader. Their upper lip was sticking to their nose from no doubt a trail of blood. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah… we’re all good. Supervillain just took us he didn’t touch us, we were just worried about you…”
“We? Supervillain took all of you?”
A blinding light flashed on and Leader shielded their eyes in the crook of their elbow and heard a couple of familiar moans from the sudden brightness.
“I thought I heard voices,” came the rumbling voice of Supervillain. There was a smile in his voice that set Leader’s nerves on edge. Leader lowered their arm, blinking quickly trying to adjust to the sudden burst of light. Their eyes settled, taking in the room they were in.
Leader was right. They were in a cage. Solid steel bars lined every edge except the bottom which was just a thick metal edge. Leader could fit comfortably sitting down but there was no way Leader could even think about standing in the cage unless they were on their haunches or kneeling. Even then they’d have to bend their torso, there was probably room for Leader’s head again above them and that was it.
Bastard, forcing them to sit like dogs in cages. Leader’s hand clenched into a fist at their side, glaring up at Supervillain as best they could.
Supervillain stood in his stupid grey three piece suit perfectly tailored to his muscular frame. He wore a charcoal grey overcoat and a black scarf over it and had his cane in both his hands, holding it horizontal as his cruel grey eyes focused on Leader in their cage. Face as expressionless as always, impassive, neutral… every part he could control except his grey eyes. His haunting grey eyes that showed exactly what emotion he was feeling. The only part of him that gave Supervillain away.
“Hey let us out of here you psycho!” Youngest yelled, kicking at the bars of their cage. Leader’s eyes went to them. They were the furthest from them on the left. There was a cage between them — where Rogue sat, glaring at Supervillain — then Youngest’s cage after.
Supervillain turned their head to Youngest’s cage and Leader’s heart dropped. “Sprightly little thing aren’t you?”
“How ‘bout you let me out of this cage and I’ll show you how sprightly I can be, hmm?!”
“Youngest,” Medic said, warning in their voice, to shut up or else. Supervillain walked over to Youngest’s cage and crouched down, putting their cane through the bars. Youngest scrambled back, but there wasn’t anywhere to flee to and their back hit the bars with a gentle thud. Leader watched as Supervillain’s cane rested easy on Youngest’s throat.
Youngest swallowed, the cane bobbing with the motion and put a hand up to grab it, but Supervillain batted it away and struck Youngest’s cheek with the cane. Youngest’s cheek whipped to the side with the impact.
“Supervillain!” Leader yelled now at the front bars of the cage, while Medic cried “Get away from them!”
Supervillain didn’t do either. Instead they kept their gaze on Youngest and lowered the cane to Youngest’s throat again, digging into it: “How ‘bout I chain you up and muzzle you for your insolence, hmm? Will that put manners on you?”
“Supervillain,” said Leader, voice hard. “Leave them alone. If you want to hurt somebody, hurt me!”
Supervillain turned their head and their piercing grey eyes found Leader’s. “Hush, Leader. It’s rude to interrupt someone. You’ll get your turn.”
Supervillain turned back to Youngest, and Leader and teammates could only watch helplessly from their stupid tiny cages. Leader’s heart was pounding out of their chest through their ears, as Supervillain used the Cane to force Youngest to look at them. An angry red welt was growing on Youngest’s cheek and they stared at Supervillain with a mixture of fear and hatred.
Supervillain tilted their head. Then asked with their horrible, matter of fact way: “Would you like to be immobilised completely and gagged, Youngest?”
Youngest shook their head side to side. “Use your words,” said Supervillain and Youngest swallowed, then spat out a contemptuous no.
“No what?” Supervillain asked, and Youngest’s entire face scrunched up in disgust. Leader saw their hands ball into fists at their sides. Leader also saw the tremble in their hands before they made them into fists. The fear coursing through their veins masked with their anger.
Supervillain pressed the cane into Youngest’s throat and their hand shot up again but stopped at Supervillain’s soft: “ah-ah-ah. No what, Youngest?”
Humiliation burned red on Youngest’s face as they said: “no, sir.”
Supervillain retracted the cane and stood in one swift movement. “Good. You can learn.”
Supervillain then turned to Leader with his grinning grey eyes. “They have a lot of potential, Leader. You should be proud.”
“Let them go, Supervillain,” Leader said.
“Why would I let them go? I have you all right where I want you. Except for you of course, Leader,” said Supervillain, walking towards Leader’s cage. Leader moved so they were sitting on their arse in the cage, legs stretched out in front of them and back against the bars, craning their neck to keep Supervillain in view. Supervillain stood directly over Leader’s cage looking down at them with a subtle hint of a smirk tugging at the edge of his lips.
Supervillain’s voice dipped, his rumbling deepening as he practically purred: “You I want on display. As a warning and a trophy as to what happens to those who oppose me.”
“In your dreams,” Leader snarled and Supervillain laughed, putting their hands on the top of Leader’s cage. Leader fought the urge to grab Supervillain’s hand and yank them down on the cage just to wipe that smirk off his stupid face.
“Sometimes Leader, if you work hard enough, your dreams can come true. Especially now that I got your little gang here too. You’d do just anything to protect them, wouldn’t you?” Leader’s heart sank at his words, their mouth going dry. That’s why they were here. Because of Leader. Because of Leader’s weakness to them.
“If you touch them—“
“I promise I won’t lay a finger on them,” Supervillain said, “as long as you do as I say.”
“No, Leader!” Rogue hissed from the cage to Leader’s left. “No you can’t let him—“
“You’re not sacrificing yourself for us,” said Medic, tone final. “We’ll get out! We’ll find a way, Leader. We always find a way. He just wants you we’ll be fine!”
“Yeah Leader, I just want you. You gonna make your team suffer in your place?” Supervillain asked with their hideous smiling rumble. Leader stuttered out a breath through their nose, even though it felt like they couldn’t breathe. Supervillain was asking something so impossible of them… and Leader didn’t want to just go along with it as horrible as that sounded.
They didn’t want to be the Leader and sacrifice themselves to Supervillain’s sadistic machinations, but if they didn’t… if they didn’t Supervillain would subject his team to them instead. Their team. Their family.
Leader swallowed hard, eyes focused on Supervillain’s cruel grey ones and nodded, just once. Supervillain’s lips spread into a proper smile now, and they got to undoing the lock on top of Leader’s cage. To the protests from Leader’s team.
“No! Leader no! Supervillain! Hurt me instead, hurt me please!” Medic demanded, pleaded, while Rogue just started kicking at the hinges on their cage and yelled in frustration when they got nowhere. Youngest was dead silent as Supervillain lifted the door of the cage and grabbed Leader under the shoulder and helped them out of the cage.
“Easy. Easy, there you go,” Supervillain praised, letting Leader sit back against the cage, sucking in a sharp breath. Supervillain moved his hand down to Leader’s ribs and Leader shot a hand out, stopping him, breathing heavy and cutting into Supervillain with a glare. Supervillain’s expression remained neutral, yet his eyes were a playful chiding. “I gave you that injury, Leader. Do you really think you can deny me seeing it? Do you really want to risk your teammates getting matching bruises?”
Leader’s glare softened to one of furious shame, as they let go of Supervillain’s hand and allowed him to lift Leader’s shirt up to Leader’s ribs. The cold smile on Supervillain’s face looked wrong. Strange. His hand on Leader’s ribs was surprisingly warm, as he pressed his palm against it and Leader sucked in a breath, clenching their jaw.
“Does that hurt?” Supervillain asked with his rolling rumble like falling stone.
“No. I’m just peachy— ow!” Leader cried as Supervillain dug their fingers into Leader’s ribs. Leader jerked to the side but Supervillain held them firm until Leader was gasping for breath, protesting: “Okay! Okay! It hurts!”
Supervillain removed his hand and dropped Leader’s shirt. “Good,” he said and stepped back. Leader looked at him, then Rogue was shouting in warning as Supervillain’s cane cracked against Leader’s bruised ribs. Leader crumbled to their knees, mouth open in a silent scream as they fell, then gasped again on the ground. They were on one hand and their knees, their other hand cradling their ribs protectively.
“Leader! Leader!” Medic was crying, but Leader just sucked in a sharp breath and raised their head to Supervillain again. Eyes narrowing.
Supervillain let out a loud sigh. “Still so insolent,” he said slowly, and cracked the cane against Leader’s jaw. Leader cried out, struggling to get their balance but it didn’t matter. Supervillain kicked at Leader’s injured ribs again and Leader went down, hitting off the stone floor and curling up protectively around themselves.
Leader opened their eyes to see Rogue reaching out for them between the bars, but they weren’t able to reach Leader. Leader saw a flash of grey fabric before a polished shoe slammed down on Rogue’s hand, driving the heel into it.
“No,” Leader gasped out with a pathetic wheeze. “No…” they said again, getting to their knees and grabbing at Supervillain’s foot. “Me… only… me…”
“Hear that Roguey? Only Leader, so stop trying to help or I’ll just hurt Leader more, yeah?” Supervillain said, lifting their foot from Rogue’s hand and grabbing Leader by the hair. Leader groaned as Supervillain yanked them up to their knees. “Get up, Leader. To your feet, come on now. I have a lesson to teach you all.”
Leader cried out as Supervillain yanked them up by the hair further and got to their shaky feet, holding onto Supervillain for balance. “Good. Very good. Now give me your hands.”
Cold fear washed through Leader’s veins at the command. Not their hands, they wanted to say. Anything but their hands. A punch to their ribs and Leader almost doubled over, but Supervillain used the pain as a diversion and cuffed Leader’s hands together in front of them. The cold metal snapped closed over Leader’s wrists, tightened to the point that Leader wondered if they would cut off their blood flow.
A strong hand under Leader’s chin directed their head up to look into those vindictive grey eyes. “Can you stand on your own?”
“Maybe if my ribs weren’t aching right now,” Leader grumbled, channeling all their pain, all their hatred into their glare they shot into the fathomless steel grey sea. Supervillain let Leader go, but Leader was ready this time. Both feet planted on the ground, knees bent, hands kept low in front of them.
The side of Supervillain’s lips quipped at Leader, as if they were impressed, but Leader could also very well be drunk on pain right now so they weren’t sure if what their eyes showed them were real.
Supervillain took off his black scarf first, then his overcoat and hung them on a hook that was nailed into the door. Next came the suit jacket and he stopped there, hanging that up too. He uncuffed the cuff links from his dress shirt and began rolling up his sleeves.
“Thought you were going to treat us to a striptease,” said Leader, forcing their usual devil-may-care smile onto their face. Supervillain flashed a smile too and then Leader’s head was thrown back, fresh blood dripping down their nose as Supervillain grabbed their hair to bring them up again.
“See, Leader, it’s not your fault per se, but with you being the Captain of your little team, your cute lil quips have spread like a wildfire throughout your ranks. Which means not only do I want to torture you to the point where you can’t even think about any witty comments, but I also want to wring it out of your teammates too.”
Leader’s hands shot up at the mention of their teammates and Supervillain smiled a handsome smile, as if he was happy to have touched a nerve.
“So you think I’m witty?” was all Leader said and Medic let out a tired: “shut up leader.”
“See?” Supervillain said, hand tightening in Leader’s hair. “Even they know when to stop.”
Leader just grinned exposing their bloody teeth. They had gone full feral, anything to piss Supervillain off. Anything to keep him off of their teammates. Just bait him. Bait him. Bait all his anger. All his frustration. Don’t even let him think about touching their team.
“Are you going to put me in my place or is you talking the torture?” Leader asked, tired. Supervillain could still that spark of defiance in Leader’s face and he let his mask of indifference shutter down over his own face.
Supervillain turned Leader and began dragging them towards the darkness behind the cages. Leader dragged their feet, their boots scraping along the ground as they were pulled against their will into the deep dark. Fear clasped their heart in a vice as they went stumbling after Supervillain’s long strides.
Lights flickered on around them and Leader could feel all the blood drain from their face. It looked like a fucked up medical room, with tools and utensils on the walls perfectly hung and cabinets full of god knows what.
And in the middle of the room was a metal table. Leader started struggling more now and Supervillain grinned as he felt the pull become more desperate. Supervillain turned to face Leader and revelled in the panic winding through their features. Supervillain yanked Leader forward and shoved them back onto the table. Leader fought them, trying to push Supervillain away but even on a good day they knew they wouldn’t be able to.
Supervillain wrestled Leader down, yanking their cuffed wrists above their head and hooking them to the end of the table. Leader yanked them down with all their might but they wouldn’t come loose. Supervillain watched Leader struggle until they stopped, lazy grey eyes going to Leader’s, raising his eyebrows, he asked: “no witty remarks?”
“Do your worst,” is what Leader said and Supervillain grinned.
“Oh I intend to,” said Supervillain stepping away from the table and walking over to one of the walls, grabbing a pliers from it and walking back over. Leader felt adrenaline pump through their veins a little too late if you asked Leader, but they tugged on the cuffs all the same just for something to do. Somewhere to put their fear.
Supervillain left the pliers on the metal table then walked back to the cages. The panic seized Leader’s throat as they leaned up, straining against the ache in their ribs, against the strain on their arms and cried out: “Supervillain! Don’t touch them! Just me, remember?!”
The clang of the handcuffs off the metal table was ricocheting through Leader’s ears like a storm of bullets from their struggling but they didn’t care. They saw Supervillain bend and pick up something from the floor and turn to walk back to Leader.
Leader calmed down a bit after seeing it was Supervillain’a cane. “Don’t worry Leader. I only have eyes for you. This just requires a more personal touch,” said Supervillain with his rolling voice, a hint of humour rounding his words. When Supervillain stopped beside the metal table Leader was chained to, he clicked a button on the handle and the hidden blade shinked out of the end of the cane.
The dagger had been a nasty surprise when Leader first felt it slice across his cheek. Supervillain had kept it a secret until Leader finally had the advantage over him in a fight, and then that shink changed the entire pace of the fight. That just seemed to be the general theme of Supervillain and Leader’s relationship.
Supervillain always seemed to have the upper hand.
Supervillain twisted the bottom of the cane and it came loose, the black metal of the cane becoming the hilt of the blade at the bottom. Leader tugged at the handcuffs again. They felt too exposed. Too readily waiting like a lamb for slaughter, they needed to do something.
“Nerves getting the better of you?” Supervillain asked, voice quiet as he placed the cane on a table to the side. “I can always drag Medic over here instead if you prefer.”
“You wouldn’t live to see tomorrow if you did,” Leader hissed and Supervillain smiled down at them.
“Just making sure. Now, to business,” said Supervillain. They grabbed Leader’s shirt and cut it loose with the blade. The cool metal scraped against Leader’s abdomen and chest causing a shiver to run down their spine. Supervillain turned back to face the cages and said louder so everyone could hear: “is everyone paying attention? Good. This is what happens you just don’t know when to stop and piss me off. Pay attention Youngest.”
The harsh tug of metal and Supervillain smiled to himself, turning back to Leader. All helpless and angry below him. Supervillain nearly sighed and stopped his work to just bask in how long it took him to finally get Leader here. Right where he wanted them, to finally hear them scream and not be able to fight back whatsoever.
Not with their hands.
Not with their words.
He wanted them broken, and hollow, to be moulded into something more after Supervillain was finished with them. The potential just sat idle under their skin and Supervillain would be the man to bring it out into the sunlight. That untapped nugget of something extraordinary.
Supervillain walked around the other side of the table, dagger in hand, then hummed, walking to the other side again. Mouth screwing up in concentration. Then, mind made up he sighed and climbed onto the table, straddling Leader’s waist with a knee on either side.
“At least buy me dinner fir— uhst,” Leader gasped as Supervillain pressed their ribs with his fingers.
“I need you to hold still for me now Leader, and tell me when it hurts.”
Supervillain wished he could have photographed the beautiful confusion on Leader’s face before he leaned over them, pinning their shoulder to table and started carving the first initial of Supervillain’s name just below Leader’s right shoulder.
Leader screamed as Supervillain dragged the blade through skin as if it was as easy as paper, thrashing in their restraints and screaming. Trying to loosen the handcuffs from the hook or jab a knee into Supervillain’s side, crotch, leg — anything. Anything to stop the pain that burned through Leader’s shoulder.
“Hold still. Almost there,” said Supervillain and placed a steadying hand on Leader’s bruised ribs to keep them down. Leader opened their mouth in a silent scream, trying to alleviate the pressure by sucking in their stomach and pushing it out. Twisting, writhing, turning— nothing could make them feel better.
Supervillain leaned back and smiled down at Leader. Leader was just happy they had finally stopped, but it didn’t stop the stinging pain from the deep cuts that were still bubbling warm blood down Leader’s torso and onto the table. To Leader’s horror, Supervillain reached back and picked up the pliers they had left on the edge of the table.
Supervillain brought them down to Leader’s fresh cuts and Leader shook their head, tears streaming down their face. “Supervillain— don’t- don’t!”
“Sssh,” Supervillain cooed, pressing a bloody finger to Leader’s lips. “Relax. I just need to make sure it’ll last.”
That sentence did anything but reassure Leader and before Leader could tell Supervillain that they would rate him poorly on yelp, the pliers was in his skin. The metal bites opening Leader’s flesh, ripping them further apart. Leader screamed from their gut, like a banshee, except worse because they knew merciful death wasn’t coming after the torture. It was just more torture.
Leader was in and out of consciousness by the time Supervillain was done, blinking hazily up at the monster above them. “Good. Done. You did so good. That’s—“ supervillain said with a laugh. “That’s gonna leave one hell of a scar, Leader. You’ll die with that one.”
“Go fuck yourself,” Leader croaked, voice hoarse from screaming. Supervillain tutted them.
“Leader. Leader. Leader. Where’s your usual banter, hmm? No funny input? I didn’t expect you to break so soon.”
Leader couldn’t even tug at their restraints in protest anymore. Their body was exhausted from healing and the adrenaline leaving their system. Supervillain lifted the bloody pliers so Leader could see it and sighed.
“You know the pliers was fun, but I think a clamp would be much more effective at ensuring scarring, wouldn’t you Medic?”
Leader barely heard Medic’s desperate reply. “Please… Supervillain. Please, let me look at them. I can heal them, make sure—“
“Enough. I don’t want them healed. I want them suffering. Although I do enjoy this whole family trauma thing, it does spice up the torture a bit.”
Supervillain was off Leader them and Leader nearly passed out with relief. Until their eyes followed Supervillain to the wall again and they pulled out a medical clamp, and the breath was taken from them.
Supervillain wasn’t done with Leader… they weren’t finished yet.
Sure enough Supervillain climbed back on top of Leader in the same position as before with their blood slicked knife in hand and a clamp in the other.
“You… you’re… I thought—“
“You thought we were done?” Supervillain asked and then laughed. A humourless, evil sound. “No. No. That was just the initial of my first name, Leader. How else will people know I tamed you if I don’t write my last name too?”
Distantly Leader could hear Rogue and Youngest shouting, protesting, calling Supervillain ever name under the sun and screaming. Pleading.
It all melded together in the static in Leader’s brain.
“In all honesty, Leader, you should be thanking whatever God is looking down at you that I don’t have a double barrel last name or we’d run out of body parts.”
Supervillain leaned over and pinned Leader’s left shoulder before getting to carving again. Leader screamed and cried and screamed some more and eventually, mercifully, they passed out on the table.
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