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shig-a-shig-ah · 2 years

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ONE, TWO, WRECKED.

You talk Shigaraki into giving you a show with a double of himself, and he winds up testing his limits in tantalizing new ways.

» pairing: Shigaraki Tomura² x afab!reader » word count: 4.5k » notes: This fic is my entry for @dabisqueen‘s Holy Trinity collab. Hope y’all enjoy--I put my whole pussy into this. » contains: gn!pronouns, switch!Shigaraki, threesome, selfcest, fingering, cunnilingus, blowjobs, pegging, double penetration (Shigaraki receiving), simultaneous orgasms. 18+, minors DNI. » ao3 mirror

"Wait."

"What?"

"Is this really how you start?"

"How am I—how are we supposed to start?"

"I don't know. I guess I expected some buildup or something before you jumped right into it."

You probably shouldn't have expected that—shouldn't be at all surprised that Tomura had gone straight to stripping. You know he's done this before—more frequently and thoroughly than he's let on, you suspect—but he still seems eager to get it over with, is clearly embarrassed by the position you've talked him into, kneeling on your bed with another version of himself only two feet away. They're both shirtless, hands paused halfway through the motions of undoing their pants. The only difference between them is that Tomura—the real one—huffs at your comment.

"It's jerking off, not making love or some shit. It doesn't need foreplay."

"Is that why we used to catch you limping around?"

"Shut up," he grumbles, but the way his cheeks heat up make you think there's more truth to your statement than he wants to admit. He glares resignedly between you and his double. "What were you thinking?"

You'd been intent on just watching them to start—that's half the point, after all, is what you'd spent weeks and weeks talking Tomura into after learning just how he used to abuse Twice's Quirk before you came along. In this case, though, it seems easier to show than tell. So, you scoot forward from where you've been sitting. Lean in to kiss him, soft and slow, teasing at his lower lip with your tongue before you pull away and turn to his clone, repeating that motion as Tomura watches on.

Then you sit back on your heels, gesturing between the two of them. Tomura's eyes widen when he gets what you're suggesting, and you pout at him before he can argue.

"C'mon, you promised me a good show."

"Fine," he mutters, shifting a little closer to his other self. It's wearing the same unenthusiastic expression, has the same pink flush to its cheek, but the half-formed bulges in their pants make it clear they're not quite as averse to this as they're acting.

Still, neither of them see to know where to start. They pause with a few inches of space between them, hands hovering uncertainly as twin pairs of red eyes scan their respective shirtless forms, Adam's apples bobbing as they both swallow hard.

Then Tomura is letting out an impatient breath and leaning in, stiffly pressing his mouth to his double's.

They're hesitant movements at first, Tomura's eyes falling closed—largely, you suspect because he simply doesn't want to stare at himself as cracked lips explore cracked lips in entirely perfunctory fashion. You don't complain about that lack of enthusiasm, though; there's something tantalizing about the sight despite the reluctance, or maybe even because of it. Your skin is already starting to grow warm as you watch on.

That heat only worsens when Tomura's lids finally blink open so he can peer at you from the corner of his eye. Crimson irises scan over you, his brow knitting just the slightest, obviously not missing the way you've already grown flustered by the act before you.

For all his reservations, that must be enough encouragement for him. A second later his lips are curving into a devious smirk and he's reaching one hand up to yank at his double's hair, kissing it harder. His teeth nip at its lip as its eyes widen momentarily, and then it's returning that treatment, mirroring Tomura's self-satisfied expression as it tips its head to watch your reaction.

Your breath catches when their tongues lap out, escalating to sloppy, open-mouthed kisses, grunts and groans periodically punctuating the sounds of panting as their hands start to wander, yanking at tufts of white hair one moment and reaching to grope at their now-prominent arousals the next. When the double's hand finally slips beneath the waistband of Tomura's pants, Tomura's hand fists at its hair, guiding its lips roughly to his neck and turning his head to look at you, letting out a hiss when the clone sinks its teeth into his sensitive throat.

"This what you wanted?" he asks you, tone entirely self-satisfied despite his heavy breathing. He keeps his eyes locked on yours when he shoves his pants down a little, revealing the erection gripped tight in his double's hand. Then he's working the double's pants down too. Its own arousal hangs heavy, flushed at the tip and twitching slightly every time Tomura's fingers tighten in its hair.

You nod in response to his question. There's an ache growing between your legs now, your thighs clenching and wetness pooling, your hand lifting to tease at your breast through the fabric of Tomura's shirt, the only thing covering you besides the thin cotton of your underwear. You whimper quietly as you pinch and tug at one nipple.

Tomura's smug expression only worsens at that sight, and more still when his free hand works between his respective bodies. He shifts a little closer to the other version of himself, maneuvering until he manages to trade his double's grip for his own, taking them both in hand. The sound of dual groans fills the room when he starts to stroke them together. It's followed by his double's head lolling back, hips bucking into that grip, a hiss of breath slipping past its lips every time Tomura swipes his thumb over their glistening tips.

Your tongue traces over your bottom lip as your hand slips between your thighs, teasing yourself through the fabric of your underwear. For a moment, that's all there is—the heady sight before you and the faint sounds of the Tomuras grunting and whining as they continue their ministrations, teeth nipping at identical patches of pale skin as they rut into a single large fist, both sets of crimson eyes constantly surveying your response.

It's not long before Tomura grows impatient with the performance, though, until he obviously wants something more than this display that's largely for your benefit. Then he's releasing his grip and fisting at his double's hair instead, unceremoniously shoving its head down towards his flushed erection.

His double doesn't complain. Only shoots you another one of those cocky looks before obediently extending its pink tongue to drag along the underside of Tomura's length, hand tugging at its own cock. It swallows Tomura down, and he swears under his breath.

Tomura tangles both hands in his double's hair. Hunches his shoulders as he starts to piston his hips, spit-slicked cock working in and out from between scarred lips as the clone sputters and gags but never stops accepting that length without complaint. When a tiny whimper slips from you as you watch, Tomura's eyes gleam, mouth splitting into a grin as he eyes your hand still toying with your clit through your underwear.

"Tired of just watching yet?" he taunts breathily.

You nod. Scramble onto your knees and forward to kiss him again, more heatedly than you had before. His tongue laps at your own, his groans filling your mouth as his double continues its efforts, and then Tomura is swearing.

"Fuck," he hisses, a thin strand of saliva connecting your lips when he pulls away. One of his arms wraps around your waist, his other hand still holding tight to his double's hair as he falls back against the mattress, repositioning you all so quickly it's hard to follow. One moment he's kneeling, his chest pressed to yours, and the next he's on his back, tugging you to straddle his face.

You're sure it's no accident how he's positioned you, either, facing his feet, where you can see the other version of him settling again between his thighs, its mouth still working over his cock with practiced expertise. Your clothes are gone before you know it, too, flushed skin and damp cunt fully exposed as dust falls against the sheets.

Tomura wastes no time availing himself of your heated sex. His tongue parts your slick folds and works its way greedily inside you, probing at your walls until you're gasping and grinding against his face, desperate for more. When he finally pulls back, tongue lapping forward to lap at your clit, you moan at the gentle pulse of that wet muscle against your most sensitive spot.

The double's eyes settle on you at that sound, one of its hands reaching up to grope at your bare chest, rough fingers kneading at that soft flesh before circling your nipple, pinching at that tender bud. The sharp pang of pleasure that brings only worsens the growing ache in your core.

"Tomura," you mewl, and you feel his throaty laugh between your thighs. See the double grin before it pulls its lips from Tomura's cock, dragging its tongue over that length.

"Fuck, like it when you say our name," it pants. It lifts one hand to your mouth, two fingers extended, and you waste no time parting your lips to suck at those digits, tongue laving over its knuckles and fingertips as its other hand strokes at Tomura's swollen length, drawing the occasional grunt from where the real version of him is still face-deep in your cunt. Each stroke of his tongue has that pressure building deep inside, your thighs starting to tremble.

The double pulls its hand away once its fingers are good and slicked with spit. Nudges Tomura's legs a little farther apart and drops its fingers to probe between those spread thighs. You feel it more than see it when one of those long fingers breaches Tomura's tight hole—feel the way he tenses beneath you and gasps hotly against your sex. His double's lips wrap around his cock once more, licking and sucking as he pumps his finger in and out, adding a second one after only a moment.

Tomura whimpers when those fingers press just right inside him, the movements of his mouth against your cunt growing more feverish, and then he's shoving two of his own fingers into your cunt, matching the rhythm of his double's movements as he laps at your clit. Each drag of his tongue and curl of his fingers sends you closer to the edge, your whole body going taut as you strain to reach that peak. You're not the only one, either—Tomura is whining and groaning now, his hips bucking up into his double's dual touches.

You get there first. The sight and feel of it all—the clone in front of you, lips slick with spit as it swallows Tomura down again and again, and Tomura's mouth and fingers working headily in tandem against your own cunt—has heat blooming under your skin and that pressure building deep within. You rock your hips, grinding harder against Tomura's face, and that pressure spills over, throbs of pleasure sending you keening as you come hard.

Tomura groans in bliss, lapping at your juices, his own hips rocking faster as he clearly teeters on the edge of his own release. You rake your nails over his chest in encouragement, earning a choked sound, his body tensing beneath you, and then—

And then he's letting out a frustrated grunt as his double pulls away, letting Tomura's cock slap wetly against his tense stomach. The double's fingers withdraw, too, earning another pained noise from the man beneath you.

The double ignores him. Only looks to you and says, with a wicked grin and a sharp gleam in its crimson eyes, "I have an idea.”

"Fuck."

Shigaraki can't help the swear that slips out as he moves to straddle you, though his face burns at the indignity of it. It's not just the position he's in that has him so uncharacteristically self-conscious; it's his own eagerness, too, and how badly he's hiding it. Because he's fantasized about this more than once, or parts of it anyway—you beneath him with that glossy silicone strap-on jutting out from the apex of your thighs.

Of course, his fantasies weren't quite like this—never featured this particular desire being outed by another version of himself, or said alternate looming behind Tomura as he readied himself to ride you.

Still, he's not complaining. Wouldn't even think to, not when his thighs are shaking in anticipation and his cock is achingly hard, desperate for the relief that was abruptly denied when his double decided there were better ideas than Shigaraki coming down its throat.

And, Shigaraki has to admit, he really is curious to see how much he can take.

He pauses when his knees settle beside your hips. Shifts to rut his turgid cock against your fake length once, twice, and then shifts again to let the tip of it tease at his asshole, swearing under his breath as it brushes cooly against all those sensitive nerves.

From behind him, there's an impatient click of a tongue. "Get on with it already," the other him grumbles.

"Shut up," Shigaraki hisses, but he gets on with it anyway, propping himself up on one careful fist as he starts the work of lowering himself down onto your waiting strap. You'd expressed concern, at first—about whether he could really take its thickness with so little preparation. The truth though is that this is far more control than he usually has; it's a stark departure from being bent over, some glorified onahole for a clone of himself who'd be treated the same way when it was through.

It takes little effort for the tip of your strap to breach his entrance, and Shigaraki can't help the throaty gasp that slips from his throat when he does; even when he's getting fucked by himself, that first stretch is pleasantly painful in a way nothing else quite compares to, and it's all the better now, when it's you working your way inside him, fake dick or not.

He's clearly not the only one enjoying it, either; you're watching him with bright eyes, lower lip caught between your teeth. That lustful look only worsens the heat spreading through Shigaraki's abdomen, and whatever patience he'd had left expires then. Not taking his eyes off yours, he drives himself down, accepting the full length of your strap in one fluid movement, letting out a sharp hiss at the way it thrills and aches in equal measure.

"Fuck, you weren't kidding," you murmur, hands settling at his waist. Your thumbs stroke soothingly over the points of his hips bones, holding him lightly in place, encouraging him to adjust despite your faint praise. Shigaraki only manages to tolerate that stillness for a moment before grinding impatiently against you, and then you finally start to rock your hips with soft, shallow movements. "Should've done this sooner," you breathe, still staring raptly up at him. "Feel good?"

Good is an understatement. Even your small movements are enough to have him whimpering, his straining cock twitching with every small stroke against his insides. It's not enough—is barely brushing against that sensitive spot within, and Shigaraki works himself a little faster against you, finally nodding in response to your question. "Yeah, fuck. More."

As if on cue, a hand fists roughly in Shigaraki's hair, jerking at the roots of his crown so roughly that his head snaps back, bolts of white heat stinging across his scalp. He feels his clone shifting from where it's been waiting behind him, one of its arms wrapping around to grope between his legs. A rough hand cups at his balls, and from the corner of his eye, Shigaraki sees his double smirking at you. Then it's using its grip to lift Shigaraki abruptly off your strap.

"You don't have to be so gentle with me," it tells you as it aligns itself with Shigaraki's achingly empty hole. "I can take it." It punctuates that statement with the snap of its hips, burying itself deep in one rough thrust.

It's forceful enough to draw a choked noise from Shigaraki, the girth of his own cock more substantial than the strap you'd had nestled deep only a moment ago; it knocks the breath from his lungs as he's split open in a way he'd never thought would appeal before this uncanny debauchery with the double had all started.

Some faint embarrassment rises at that thought, and at the unblinking stare you've fixed him with as you watch his double take him. He's being louder now—can't help it, not when his other self is so relentless. It doesn't ease into anything, only starts pounding away roughly the moment it's sheathed inside him, movements so harsh that all Shigaraki can do is fist tightly at the sheets and listen to the sounds of his own ragged gasps echoing in stereo, the pitch of those noises rising every time his double angles to hit just the right spot inside.

Shigaraki finds himself empty again a moment later, his walls clenching around nothing with humiliating need, but it doesn't go unfulfilled for long. His double guides him immediately back to your waiting strap, and you waste no time lifting your hips to fill that void. Your strokes keep to that gentle, steady rhythm, teasing him with what must be an intentional contrast to his double's rough treatment.

Again it's not enough, and Shigaraki lifts a hand to wrap around his cock, only to find himself denied; calloused fingers wrap tight around his wrist and twist, pinning his arm roughly behind his back.

Shigaraki sees your eyes widen when his double restrains him, and feels the heat in his face worsening under your enraptured stare. It's undignified, he knows—the way he's squirming atop you with obvious need, his cock flushed and leaking as he strives for a release that's nowhere near close enough. You don't give him what he needs, either, offering nothing but another few slow strokes against his insides before the double tightens its grip, torquing Shigarkai's arm harder as it once again maneuvers him off your strap, the feel of smooth silicone replaced by warm skin and harsh movements.

You prop yourself up, just enough for your lips to find the flushed skin of SHigaraki's chest, your tongue dragging over the sheen of sweat starting to form before you sink your teeth into his pec. That spark of hurt only worsens the near-unbearable ache in his neglected cock.

"Quit teasing and—ngh—and make me come already," he grits through clenched teeth.

"Be patient," you murmur, a teasing edge to your voice before your teeth find the hollow of his throat.

His double, though, comes closer to indulging that request. It once again withdraws, guiding Shigaraki to settle back on your strap, and then it releases its grip on Shigaraki's arm. A second later there's the faint click of a cap and the squelch of lube, and its fingers drop to probe at Shigaraki's stretched out hole even as you start to fuck up into him.

Shigaraki can't help the guttural sound he makes when the first finger slips its way inside, working in and out in tandem with your strap, searching until it brushes against his prostate. It's quickly joined by a second digit, then a third, the combined stretch more than Shigaraki has experienced before. Even warmed up as he is it borders on painful, has his body tensing at the invasion even as the throbbing in his cock worsens.

One of your hands reaches up to stroke at his hair, fingers combing soothingly through it. "Good?"

"I can take it," Shigaraki pants, echoing his clone's words from earlier. To prove it, he starts to push his hips back to meet your combined movements, leaning into that heady mixture of hurt and delicious fullness. His cock bounces with each thrust, pre dripping from his tip onto the exposed expanse of your stomach, sticky threads of it delicately connecting your flushed bodies.

That leaking arousal only worsens when the double plants one hand firmly between Shigaraki's shoulder blades and shoves, forcing him down until his chest is flush against yours and lifting his hips until only the tip of your strap is still nestled inside him.

Every muscle in Shigaraki's body goes taut in anticipation, no doubt in his mind about what's coming next, and an undignified whine slips past his lips as his other self settles into position, the firm head of its cock nudging at Shigaraki's asshole still stretched around your silicone length.

Shigaraki can feel his rim giving way with each press, stretching wider until all he can do is squirm in response, his teeth finding the juncture where your neck meets your shoulder. Four fingers dig roughly into your waist and his other hand fists tightly at the sheets above your head as he braces himself.

And then his clone is surging forward, finally breaching Shigaraki's hole with one last insistent thrust, and Shigaraki's teeth are biting more firmly into the skin of your neck, a choked groan clawing up from his throat as he's stretched impossibly wide. He can feel his cock twitching between your bodies, hard as it's ever been, that substantial invasion enough to have his balls tightening, hovering on the edge of release even before you or the clone really start to move.

A moment later you do start to move, both of you, and whatever faint composure Shigaraki had maintained evaporates entirely, lost to the motion of you and the double rocking your hips in sync, working deep to hit that sensitive spot inside with unprecedented thoroughness. Each thrust sends Shigaraki's cock rutting sharply against the soft skin of your stomach, already slick with sweat and precum, and that added friction along with the agonizing fullness is all that it takes; the knot that's been clinched in Shigaraki's gut for ages finally snaps and then he's coming, finally coming as a string of half-incoherent swears spills past his lips.

"A-ah—fuck, fuck—ngh—FUCK." His skin goes hot, his whole body shuddering as he's wracked with that release.

The two of you aren't even halfway inside him, but neither of you relent as he quivers and comes—you only seem encouraged by his poorly stifled moans the way he's arching into the impossible thickness of your assailment. The two of you only push forward, another long groan rising from Shigaraki's throat when the two of you finally bottom out, staying buried there just long enough for Shigaraki's double to reach one hand down to toy with your cunt beneath the base of the strap.

Your hips buck in response to that touch, Shigaraki shuddering again, hyperaware of each tiny movement of your strap snug inside him. When another choked grunt slips out, the double laughs a little, rolling its hips.

"You're both greedy," it taunts, fingers working roughly in and out of you, its hips matching those movements. "I haven't even come once."

Shigaraki feels you writhing under him, your thrusts sloppy as you clearly try to focus on him and your own pleasure at the same time, even as your eyes flick to the double behind him. "Whose—hng—whose fault is that?"

The double gives an amused snort in response, and picks up its pace. You match that rhythm, both working harder and faster than before as you pound away in tandem. Your hand slips beneath Shigaraki, slipping between your bodies to wrap around his cum-slick cock, pumping at that length as you lick and suck at his neck, those sloppy, whimper-punctuated attentions only adding to his mounting overstimulation.

Shigaraki grunts. Tips his head to permit you better access to the sensitive skin of his throat, and almost regrets it when he catches sight of your reflections in the dark glassy screen of the television nearby, granting him what must be some approximation of your own view from beneath him: he can see his reddened face and wrecked expression, his eyes heavy-lidded and his jaw gone slack, the only response he can manage to being so thoroughly fucked. Behind him is the other version of himself, similarly flushed but wearing an entirely different look—strands of pale hair hanging in its face, crimson eyes bright and intent, scarred upper lip curling in satisfaction every time it buries itself to the hilt.

His double is close to coming, too; Shigaraki can tell from the sounds it's making, stuttering grunts and growls accompanied by ragged exhales whenever it drives itself especially deep. It's paired with your own throaty moans, and the occasional faltering of your hips, that slight discordance between dual movements only making him all the more of aware of the stretch of his walls around your lengths, and of the tight grip of your hand around his own cock, sensitive and swollen and already dangerously close to spilling over again.

Shigaraki rocks himself back against those motions. Manages to lift one hand to grope at your chest again, pinching and twisting at one stiff nipple in his own small effort to help you along—all he can manage when he can barely move, can barely think. He's hardly aware of anything except the heat of your body pressed against him and the constant, near-painful stretch of his abused hole, all of it too much and not nearly enough.

"Fuck, Tomura," you whine, your hand tangling more tightly in his hair. Your mouth finds his in a heated, messy kiss, your teeth tugging at his tongue and your grip tightening around his cock. He ruts erratically into your fist only to be countered by his clone jerking roughly at his hips, pulling Shigaraki back against its thrusts.

"Hold—hng—hold still," it rasps. Its voice has gone pitched and breathy, a clear indication of what Shigaraki already knows, though the double says it anyway, "Gonna—fuck—gonna come."

Its fingers fuck harder into your cunt, clearly trying to get you there too, and its efforts are rewarded. Your body goes tense beneath Shigaraki, your cries growing louder against his lips, and then you're mimicking those urgent movements, each stroke of your wrist and thrust of your hips growing more feverish.

Those coordinated efforts work, somehow. You press yourself more tightly against Shigaraki, body shuddering as you come, and at the same time Shigaraki feels his double forcing its way as deep as it can, that final stroke and the grip of your hand around his length enough to have him seeing white as his cock jerks and pulses, each twitch matched by warm spurts of cum spilling from the cock still buried inside him.

Shigaraki slumps against you, wincing slightly as his clone does the same, pulling out and sending leaking wetness running down his thighs as it collapses beside you. Shigaraki watches it reach one hand up to tip your chin, just enough to kiss you for a long moment. Then its eyes are flicking from you to Shigaraki and back again.

"So," it asks dryly, mouth curving up into a haughty smirk, "think you got a good enough show?"

Taglist: @kiwiimochi @simultaneously-sick-and-calm @nonobadcat @httptamaki @toughbook @xxjesshuxx @lawfulrhi @doomsthotstash @arozaur @sukiirei @evilmortytrapremix @sunasb3tch @tomurastrashpanda @decaydaddy @handvillain @nao-cchi @pestlaege

#shigaraki x reader #shigaraki x you #tomura shigaraki x reader #tomura shigaraki x you #x reader #shigaraki smut #shigaraki fanfic #bnha smut #bnha reader insert #tw: pegging #tw: selfcest

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zodiyack · 3 years

Text

Being Married To Henry’s Characters Would Include...

Requested by @cuisinequeen: Hi, I love your work. I was just wondering if you could do a headcanon for being married to Clark Kent/Geralt/Sherlock Holmes/Napoleon Solo

Pairing: Clark Kent x Reader, Geralt of Rivia x Reader, Sherlock Holmes x Reader, Napoleon Solo x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, some references, trashy writing lol

Note: This doesn’t include all of his characters, so my apologies if I misled you with the title. Not all that confident in the HCs so sorry about that too

Taglist: @matth1w, @redspaceace-writes, @simonsbluee, @darling-i-read-it, @fandom-puff, @thewarriorprincessxo, @sebastianstanslefteyebrow, @maan24, @beckster07890, @missihart23

Masterlist | Henry Cavill Masterlist

Clark Kent

You know he’s superman, therefore, you gotta expect the unexpected

Kiss: Level 100

helping him keep his identity secret isn’t always easy-

you wanna kiss him even when he’s superman but fuck you need him to remain undetected

but you manage

Little hc of the first few months after getting married:

Clark comes home late after a fight you see on tv

you turned it off before anything else happened, too worried already

he’s beat up

your eyes are red and puffy with tear stained cheeks as you stand and cross your arms.

you bet your ass there were cuddles that night.

Later into the marriage, he still scares you like that, but you’ve grown somewhat used to it and wipe the tears away

He’s protective of you too though

Aight sorry, but the gif is making me addicted to Henry kisses so Imma say it again,

best fucking make out sessions ever

yes, I’m gonna say that for all four.

fuck it, Clark!Kisses HCs

they’re soft half the time, needy the other half

if he comes home from superman duties or you have a run-in with a villain, so on so on, his kisses are rougher, needier, more possessive

bitch, he just needs you to know he’s still alive 🥺😢

Henry in glasses really do be hittin tho.

Stealing his glasses

Calling him a nerd because of the glasses

Probably making it a small joke about superman

Especially with oblivious friends

“I think superman’s a nerd.” “why??” “I just do.”

Having to stifle your laughs every time someone gushes about superman in front of him

Clark has to hold you back so you don’t unleash your wrath of fucking doom upon some oblivious woman who wrote about superman in a news article

She wrote things that would make you jealous, like talking about how she’s curious to his personal life *wink wink* and stuff- you don’t just have a raging fury because someone writes about him

Superman this hoe

You’ve made jokes about how he has to take his ring off when he’s superman, but he’s got a feeling that you’re actually not kidding at all

Exercising with Clark

Cursing him out in breathy pants for being more athletic and cheating with his “alien powers”

he just laughs at you

Ah, the difficulty have having a husband with two identities

When you rant about your husband, it’s so hard not to fuck up and say something about being married to Superman

Forgetting that you’re one of the few who knows his identity

Basking in pride because you’re one of the few who knows his identity

One time, Clark forgot to take his ring off and the person he rescued had known him personally.

He asks where he got the ring-

“What ring?”

“The one on your finger. The wedding ring.”

It felt like his stomach dropped...if that makes sense-

Clark ended up making some random story about finding it on the same plane the guy he rescued was on and that he put it on so he wouldn’t lose it.

The guy still thought he was pretty sus, “why was it on your wedding ring finger then?” but let him off after some time

The guy gave it back to Clark in person, but you had no idea what happened,

so when he gave him the ring, you were watching with the most confused look Clark had ever seen

thankfully, he played it off well and informed you later

He forgot to take off his wedding ring? You “secretly” fist bumped the air- ...he totally saw you though

Geralt Of Rivia

I don’t think Geralt really expected to get married

Jaskier didn’t either-

He’s the only one who stands when the priest asks if anyone doesn’t accept... only to ask how the fuck Geralt got lucky enough to get you

Everyone laughed but Geralt, he just grunted and looked away with a lil’ bit o pink tinting his cheeks

You demand he lets you go on adventures with him

You also wash him after adventures

wink wonk ;)))

Geralt is a stubborn thing

You’re a stubborn thing

Y’all love each other

When I say that Geralt is a confusing husband-

I mean that he confuses the fuck out of you

“don’t do that”

“okay”

few minutes later

“I thought you were doing that-”

“You told me not too...?”

“I don’t recall. Do whatever.”

Minutes later.

“What the fuck!?! Don’t do that!”

He’s hard to read and it bugs you

However, it makes a good game out of it

If he ever introduces you as anything but his spouse, you hold a bitter glare while internally plotting

Before you marry, Jaskier hits on you without realizing that Geralt is interested in you

He gulps nervously as soon as it hits him

You might just use that mistake as a way to get back at Geralt for not saying you’re his spouse

Jaskier pleads you not to

like for real

He’s in tears

CuDdLeS!

Congrats, you have a stubborn manbaby for the rest of however long y’all shall live

Kithes

Geralt is a little distant when it comes to admitting his feelings for you at first

When you’re dating, you’re all over each other

Marriage is that but amplified lmao

Braiding his hair

Teasing him not the wink wonk and getting away with it because you’re his spouse

If Jaskier said anything remotely close to the shit you’ve said, Geralt would probably choke him out

But then resuscitate him cause they’re bros

Seeing the softer side of Geralt

Sure, sex, but getting to know each others bodies? Yes.

Soft!Sleepy!Geralt

His deep n husky morning voice telling you to “get your ass back in bed”

Having the excuse of “because I’m his spouse” anytime you do stuff people are too afraid to do

Jealous bb 1 and jealous bb 2 aka Geralt and Y/n

I think Geralt’s the kind of guy to just pick you up, ignore your flailing limbs, and move you out of the way

He takes shit from no one...well, from you SOMETIMES

Gives in to your requests with a sigh and roll of his eyes most of the time

He was protective of you at first

now he’s PrOtEcTiVe so uh

Basically, number one husband, number two bodyguard

you put yourself first for the bodyguard part, but Geralt doesn’t know that

Sherlock Holmes

He asks your family for their blessing, then asks you-

I can imagine Mycroft just ranting away and Sherlock drops to his knee

“What are you doing?”

He ignores his brother and proposes to you

Mycroft is confused and upset because he wanted to rant about meaningless things and Sherlock decided to change the topic

rude

Being married means constant visits from Enola

Probably being the “second parents” to Enola

Gossip with Enola and Eudoria about Sherlock and him as a kiddo

Kicking Sherlock out of the house for sleepovers with his sister

bet

Helping Sherlock with cases

Dealing with Sherlock telling you it isn’t safe

still being upset when he’s right you know it

Finding Enola and Eudoria with him

Snapping at Mycroft for how he treats the girl and everyone else

Threatening Mycroft by just being a badass bitch and telling him to fuck off every now and then

Long story short, you make Enola laugh and Mycroft scoff as he walks away

He’s a stubborn bean, which now that I think about it- aren’t all Henry’s characters?

While he doesn’t say it much, he loves you

You get paranoid with this character too, as he does work that can be very dangerous as well

When he returns, he doesn’t say much aside from that he’s there now and that he loves you

cuddles with him whispering softly,

“I’m here now.” “I’m safe.” “I’m okay.” “I love you.”

Kisses in public either be quick pecks or minute long for goodbyes, but greetings-

especially after being apart for a while?

HC TIME

He comes home on the train and you’re at the station with his siblings

As soon as he spots you, he sets his stuff down because you’re already running at him

You jump into his arms and kiss him hard, not caring in the slightest about the other people at the station

It makes you smile every time he introduces you as his spouse

You’ve heard it so many times yet it still makes your heart flutter every single time

Napoleon Solo

The amount of times you’ve just dropped everything and walked away because he was being ‘too serious”-

You say something, he takes it seriously, you groan and stomp away

But then you know you can do the same back to him

Napoleon is an all around awesome husband but he’s not going to just pretend to agree with stuff

Will correct you no matter how embarrassed you get

Makes up with kisses or stuff idk

Let me be honest, I don’t know much about writing for Napoleon but he is an icon...sometimes

He’s protective

by that I mean he’s stubborn but really it’s his way of keeping you safe

Would probably lock you in your room even though you’re a, a grown ass adult, and b, his spouse for fuck’s sake?!??!

Doesn’t tell you when something’s bothering him unless he feels the need to

“I’m not a fucking mind-reader, Solo!”

“Neither am I but I still manage-”

He doesn’t mean to make you feel bad, he just- emotions and him aren’t the best of friends

Emotions aren’t exactly friends with most of his characters

He’d much rather just speak with actions than admit anything

Sometimes you worry that he’s just fucking with you

When he proposed, it scared the shit out of you ‘cause you thought it was a joke

Never admits to anything willingly...?

Yeah sorry...Idk, that’s all I got :\

1K notes · View notes

slashxrose · 3 years

Text

Surprise, love -Duff Mckagan-

Title: Surprise, Love.

Warnings: explicit content.

Summary: I don’t use to do summary of my stories, y’all is gonna love it anyway; enjoy.

Dirty reading~

Duff Mckagan is the last person I expect to see on my doorstep, wet from the San Francisco mist, a faded green duffle bag at his feet.

Even years removed my heart still clutches at the sight of his hair, the boyish grin on his face. The smile doesn’t reach his eyes the way it used to, but I’m not able to catch much more of him before he’s pulling me into a bear hug and lifting me off the ground.

To put you all in context, Duff was my best friend ... and the best boyfriend someone could ever had, for most of my life, he was my neighbour when we were just born, little kids, getting to know each other from there and living a whole life together; I watched from when his first tooth fell out to when he had to take his first flight to go with the band to San Francisco, the place where I currently live now.

It surprises me, and it shocks me to see him, so changed after so many years, so many years without looking him in the eye, without knowing anything about him; today he is finally here, standing in front of me.

Trying not to break down in tears the emotions hit my being in a wave; remembering the day he left me at the airport and then never see him again; exactly in 1991, after his great "Use your illusion." I never heard from him again.

“Babe,” he breathes, I press my face into his neck, a laugh bubbling up out of my throat, “I missed you.”

“Yeah,” I manage.

I can feel my eyes pricking because I have missed him, too much. We’ve kept up as much as we could over the years, but with him overseas and my steadily making my way around the country, it had gotten difficult. I haven’t heard from him in a few months, and I haven’t seen him in a few years – probably eight, if I think about it. Instead of thinking about it, though, I wrap my arms tight around him and try not to let myself cry at the feeling of him engulfing me.

“I missed you too, Duff.”

I get him up to my apartment and let him settle onto my couch before I ask him any questions, mainly because I can’t quite find my voice and I can’t believe Duff is in my apartment, right now. He beats me to the punch, settling back into my couch and peeking over at me in the kitchen.

“This place is really nice.”

I nod, filling a glass up with water for him and then looking up at him, a smile on my lips.

“It’s alright,” I shrug, shutting off the tap and making my way over to the couch, handing it to him before I sit down, one leg tucked beneath me. “I got lucky.”

Duff sips the water and looks around, shaking his head. My apartment is nice – it’s got floor to ceiling windows and sleek, modern appliances and a killer view of the Golden Gate Bridge.

“Not luck,” he shrugs. “You deserve it, you worked your ass off for this place.”

I swallow, smiling over at him and feeling my cheeks flush – in part, because he’s right, and in part, because he’s wrong.

“Duff,” I laugh my voice soft. I tuck some hair behind my ear and looks up at him. “How’d you find me?”

Duff shrugs, setting the water glass down on my coffee table and turning to face me, leaning his arm over the back of my couch.

“I went home, first...talked to your mom, she gave me your address for if I ever wound up out west. Figured,” he shrugs, laughing, “It’d be more of a surprise if I didn’t tell her I already knew I was coming out this way.”

I shake my head, pressing my fingertips to my face.

“Oh god… I cannot believe my mum did that after all the things I told her, honestly.” I sigh, dropping my hand and raising my brow. “So, she didn’t know you were coming out here...but you did?”

Duff nods.

“Yes, I did… I’ve gotta come back to the hotel in a couple of hours… We’re flying to Europe, we’re gonna start a new tour I guess, we don’t really know, but I figured I could make a stop before I check into my hotel.” I swallow, watching his fingers flex against the couch cushion.

“Another tour?” I raise my brows. “You’ve been on tour the last eight years.”

“That’s what happens when you’re a famous rockstar babe, you never stop….” he laughs, his voice low. “I’m thinking I’ll be out here a bit, actually, trying to convince the boys to stop a little, I want to see you more often.” I try not to let my reaction show on my face, but this is Duff, so I know I’m not exactly subtle.

I chew on the inside of my cheek as I think about it, about Duff, just half an hour away instead of across the world.

“Wow,” I breathe, smiling over at him. “I’d get to see you, then?”

“If you want to,” Duff shrugs, and I roll my eyes at him, reaching over and swatting at his arm.

We cover the basics with his hand on my knee: I moved to San Francisco alone, I work for a newspaper, and I’m a runner now. He’s been back on tour and he’s not going to go so far away again, and he’s thinking about stop touring a little bit.

Wow.

I slide my hand over his and look down at it, brushing my thumb against the back and humming softly as I look up at him, a smile on my lips.

“So you’re telling me,” I say, my voice soft, “you’re a big enough deal the boys to stop touring, what they’re supposed to be doing?”

Duff rolls his eyes, glancing down to our hands and then back up to mine, his gaze soft. I try to focus on anything other than the look in his eyes and settles on his mouth, chewing on the inside of my cheek, because I know it’s a mistake immediately. Bad things tend to happen when I look at Duff Mckagan’ mouth.

“I’m telling you I could do it,” he shrugs, and I watch intently as he runs his tongue over his lower lip, his fingers pressing lightly against my leg. “We’ll find out, I guess; Steven’ planning to go to rehab…” He probably saw my intrigued face, so he immediately keeps talking. “I’ll tell you in a bit about it.” He smiles at me and I nod. “Slash has two little annoying but cute kids… so he’s gonna be busy with that, and Izzy… Well Izzy fucking left the damn band, so there’s no problem with him.”

I nod, feeling my lips shift into a soft smile, Wow, it’s surprising how everything changed since the last time I saw him, every one of them were idk… almost 30 years old, playing and joking around, being drunk and high as fuck, I never… I mean, we never thought that the band was gonna become this famous.

“Well,” I say, “I’m happy for you, Duff. You’re all grown up.”

Duff laughs, pulling his hand from my leg and rubbing his hand over his jaw slowly, swallowing.

“We’re both grown up, honey,” he chuckles, and I let myself meet his gaze. I stuck in a slow breath, feeling how heavy his eyes are on mine, letting the feeling wash over me easily. “Easy to see that, right?”

I nod and sit up a bit, settling my hand on Duff’s forearm, brushing my thumb slowly against his skin.

“Easy,” I say my voice barely above a whisper. “Too easy.” I don’t know why sitting here with him like this makes me feel like I could cry.

I squeeze my eyes shut, sighing out a slow breath and tightening my grip on his arm.

“I really missed you. I know we,” I shake my head, “I know we covered that, kind of, but...god, Duff.” I swallow, heavy, keeping my eyes shut so I don’t have to look at him as the words tumble out of my mouth, “I really didn’t know if I would ever see you again, you know? No matter how safe you told me you were, you almost had a fucking overdose… too much alcohol, too much shit.”

Duff doesn’t say anything, but I feel him shifting on the sofa. I feel him scooting closer to me. His breath wisps over my skin, and I feel like I might be shaking. I should stop him – I knows I should, I knows it’s the right thing to do with all of us history, all of the feelings that stretch out between us – but there’s an ache in my chest that I don’t think will let me. I squeeze his forearm, holding onto it with my fingers and hear myself let out a soft noise as his nose touches mine.

“Babe,” he murmurs, and I nod, my eyes still squeezed shut. “I’m good; you don’t have to worry anymore.”

“I know,” I breathe out, and I slide my hand off his arm and slip my fingers into his hair. I pulling him towards me, kissing him in the way I had imagined doing for years, for a lifetime, even. I’d never kissed him like this, so tender and slow, so intentional, so full. I whine into it, feeling tears pricking at the corners of my eyes.

It feels like my heart is whole, even for just a moment.

Duff’s always been the boy I turned to when I was hurting, always been the person who knew me the best, who could make me feel good. This, though, is different – this kiss isn’t sweet, childhood tenderness, its gut wrenching in the most wonderful way. My stomach twists into a knot and then settles as his arm wraps around my waist, my ears rush harshly as his tongue moves against mine, my heart pounds in my chest as I feel both of our cheeks, touch against each other.

This is Duff, the man, safe in his arms, telling me he’s here, telling me I’m his. He hasn’t said it, but I can tell...I can tell from the way he’s kissing me that this was him, standing on her doorstep, asking me to let him in and keep him.

For tonight, at least, I can do that.

I crawl into his lap and press my fingers into his hair, my thumbs dragging along his face, my breathing ragged against his skin.

“Duff,” I whisper, brushing my lips against his, “I have a bed.”

Duff’s breathing is possibly more laboured than my own as he slips his hand beneath the back of my t-shirt, his fingertips pressing lightly into my skin.

“I assumed,” he mumbles, his mouth praying for mine, “This is a big apartment.”

I nod in a smile, grinning against his lips;

“Want to,” I tip my face down, my forehead pressed to his as I move slowly in his lap, my lips just out of his reach, “take a look at it?”

Duff lets out a low laugh, nodding and mumbling,

“Smooth,” against my mouth as he keeps his arm locked around my waist. He stands up, lifting me with him, I wrap my legs around him as he settles me in his grip.

I direct him to the bedroom, settling my feet down on the ground and swallowing as my eyes fall on a picture frame settled on my nightstand.

“Shirt,” I breathe, looking at Duff, who’s sitting on the edge of her bed, staring at me with a dazed smile on his lips, “shirt off, rockstar.” He lets out a low laugh, and I takes a moment to flip the picture frame face down while his shirt is obstructing his view, then tugs at the hem of my own shirt before taking a step forward, pulling it off as I stations myself between his legs.

I settle my hands on his bare shoulders, dragging my hands down along his skin slowly, then moving it back up and cupping his face in my hands. I slide my thumb over his lower lip and hiccups, chewing on the inside of her cheek.

“God,” I whisper, letting my eyes move over his face, taking him in. I’d never felt so full before. My vision blurs as I watch him, feels his hands settle over my waist.

He had changed, years without seeing him… without feeling him, I missed his touch, his kisses, I missed him so bad.

“Honey,” he says, and his voice has that lilt to it – the what are you crying for lilt, and I don’t have an answer. I bit down on my lower lip, shaking my head and trying to stop myself. His hand reaches up to my cheek and I lean into his touch, feeling my tears seep onto his skin.

I want to tell him...about the photo, about the man in the photo, about the way their timing is truly, continually, terrible. Instead, I lean my face down and kiss his palm, swallowing hard as I hear his own breath going wet.

“Come here,” he says, his voice thick, low.

I don’t need him to say it twice. I crawl into his lap and he shifts them back onto the bed, his hands moving shakily along my skin.

He flips them and undresses me carefully, his eyes moving over every new part of me as it becomes exposed. He unhooks my bra and pulls it slowly down my arms, unbuttons and unzips my jeans and tugs them over my hips, hooks his fingers into the waistband of my panties and tugs at them, slowly, his lips pressing to my stomach as he does, the gasp tearing from my throat involuntary, I swear.

Something in my brain tugs, that I should be embarrassed, being so naked in front of this man who’s known me for my entire life, but no. I can’t be, with the way he’s looking at me, with the adoration and want in his eyes. I let my hands slide along his arms, breathing slowly as he looks at me, takes me in, and then I settle my fingers against his belt buckle.

“I can’t be the only one naked here, baby,” I say, my voice soft, and the smile on his lips is so soft that I feel my cheeks flush.

I unbuckle his belt shakily, watching as he gets himself out of his pants, pushes off his boxers. I bites on my lower lip at the sight of him, half-hard for me, then drags my eyes up to his face, smiling at the way his cheeks are flushed. I sit up a little, wrapping my hand around him gently, dragging my fingertips lightly along his length and shutting my eyes, leaning my forehead against his chest because I don’t think I can take the look on his face, the pure emotion rippling through him.

“Fuck,” he bites out, and his hand slides to the back of her neck, his thumb dragging along the base of it slowly. His voice is shaky when he says my name, and I twist my wrist slowly, smiling as I feel him growing harder in my hand.

Yes, honey, I know you like this.

He shifts my back on the bed, pressing my legs apart so he can settle between them and leaning down to kiss me, drawing his tongue slowly over my lower lip as his thumb drags over my inner thigh. The mixture of sensations has me shaking, already, and he hasn’t even touched me where I want him to yet.

He’s gentle with me, at first. His fingers press lightly against my wet folds, testing the waters, working slowly as I breathe out heavy sighs to keep myself calm.

He’s driving me crazy.

His lips press over my collarbone lightly, dragging against my skin slowly as he dips a finger into me, then another. He hums against the hollow of my neck as his thumb circles my clit lightly, and I feel my hips lifting off the bed to find more of him, knowing he isn’t giving it to me yet.

“Oh god-” I groaned.

I come apart on his fingers, shakily, one of my hands gripped tightly into his hair. His mouth is on my neck and I whine, searching for his face.

“I need you.” I breathe, and he lifts his head slowly, grazing his lips over mine.

“You keep driving me crazy as the first day we met.” he murmurs.

I stop him, slipping my tongue into his mouth. I can’t hear him, like this, not right now. I need him to fuck me, need him, before I get too rational and stop him entirely.

This is too much, I can feel it – I’m going to break the both of us, but I can’t possibly end it before I feel him, before I know what it’s like to have him inside me, again.

“Duff,” I moaned against his mouth, lifting my hips and hooking a leg around his waist, trying to pull him closer. “I need you.”

He nods, slow, just once, and I love him for it. I love that he isn’t trying to tease this out, that he’s listening to me, that we both want this so badly that dragging it along isn’t appealing at all. I slide my hands up to his face, holding it and keeping my eyes on him, my heart still hammering. He locks eyes with me as I feel his tip pressing at my entrance, and I suck in a hard breath, watching his face.

He cracks the softest smile, and I feel my resolve breaking.

“Duff,” I breathe, my voice full, my eyes stinging, “please.”

I want him in a way I can’t understand – it’s something about the way he knows me, I think, absently, as his eyes trail over my face, down my body.

It’s about the way he held my hand when I fell off the jungle gym and broke my arm when we were six, it’s about the way he shoved an old friend of mine for calling me a bitch when we were eleven, it’s about the desperate way he kissed me back in her car when we were sixteen, it’s about the way he made me and makes me feel right now. It’s about the fact that he’s the same Duff he’s always been, but something else altogether, too. The boy I’ve always known, and the man I’ve always wanted, hovering above me, about to make me his, even when I belong to someone else.

But I didn’t care.

One of his hands brushes my cheek, and I slide my own to press over his, to keep him there. I hold his gaze as he pushes into me, slow, filling me. I let out a soft laugh, turning my face into his hand and rolling my hips.

“Please,” I murmur against his skin, “I want to feel you, Duff.”

He’s slow, but not in a torturous way. His eyes stick on mine as he rocks his hips into mine, as the fingers of his free hand trail along my leg, over my hip, tracing little shapes. I feel him, all of him, and my legs tighten around his hips to keep him as close as I can. His strokes are long, deep, and I know neither of us is going to last long, regardless of the speed.

“As my queen commands.” Duff softly replied, smirking before kissing my lips deeply as he thrust deep inside me.

The sudden feeling of being filled with a cock as big as him made me cry out in pleasure breaking the kiss as my back arched, I felt his fingers holding my hips lightly, making the movements to go harder. His own groans of pleasure mixed with mine as they filled the room, he started to move slowly, taking his time as our lips re-joined together with our tongues dancing and warping round each other, as our hands roamed each other’s bodies just feeling blindly in a that need to be close.

I feel my walls constricted around him, he started to move faster and found that bundle of nerves that made me touch the sky with my hands, his moans made an echo in my ear, they were loud, he was really enjoying this, making me instantly lose all the control, all sense of who and where I was, right now it was just the two of us; the world outside didn't matter, the day ahead didn't matter everything I can focus on was in him and nothing was going to stop that.

“Oh shit babe, yes.- ” I moaned. “Keep doing that oh god-” I wrapped his curlers in my fingers holding him, his thrusts collided with my body causing a lack of control in all my senses, damn I had missed this.

His movements were wild and erratic but so perfect precise, he knew all the right buttons to press. I open my eyes again to see him above me, his face the clear picture of pleasure and need, I never had seen anyone become so desperate and undone for me. A man like him with such talent showing a side of himself only to me that so few ever got to see, but in truth he would only ever truly become this undone and this vulnerable for me.

My hands slid down from his hair, trailing down his back across his slightly sweating skin as they found that perfect ass of his. His lips moving to my neck again as tears of happiness, love and pleasure fell.

“Oh my sweet babe.” Duff moaned shakily as he continued thrust deep into me, all I could do was cry out with pleasure and need.

“Oh Duff I love you.” I gasp thrusting up to meet his own movement's.

He’s nothing like I’ve ever felt, before – there’s something about the presence of him, of his body over mine, of his eyes watching me, his breath mixing with my own.

“Babe,” he breathes, his face tipping down, his lips finding mine. I sat up a bit, my hips shifting to meet his, to hit at a new angle. I weave my fingers into his curly hair and grips onto it as I kiss him, our tongues pressed together as I feel the heat pooling in my stomach, knows I’m closer than I’d even like to admit.

His hand moves from my leg to dip between them, pressing against my clit slowly, tracing over my nerves delicately before finding a pattern. I can tell he’s close, too, his breathing getting heavier, his thrusts more erratic.

“C’mon babe” I murmur against his mouth, “I want to feel you, Duff, I want to know what you feel about me.” my words fade into a whine as I feel him pressing more firmly to my clit, rolling it between his fingers.

I come hard, around him, feeling him spill into me moments later, our moans mixing together as he presses me down into the mattress.

“Oh damn.” He moans loudly in my ear.

We lay still, for a long while. I scratch sleepily at the back of his neck, Duff start kissing my neck softly as we cling to each other, trying to calm down. He pulls out of me slowly, smiling to himself as I groan at the loss, and I hum as he lays back down, still pressing his weight down against me.

“You’re not allowed to go anywhere,” I whisper, my lips pressed against the side of his head, “until I say so.”

Duff nods. “Got it, you’re in charge,” he murmurs, “so nothing’s really changed, huh?”

I laugh, but I feel the pang in my chest, knowing the truth – because yes, almost everything really has changed, and he doesn’t even know the half of it.

I must fall asleep, because when I woke up it’s dark outside and I hear him moving around...somehow, I just knew in that moment that he knows, now. I sit up slowly, pulling the sheets to my chest and pressing my hand over her face.

“Duff?”

He pokes his head out of the bathroom and smiles at me softly. When he steps through the door, he’s got his boxers on, and I feel my heart clench in my chest.

“What’s his name, babe?” He sits on the edge of the bed and pull my hand from my face, lacing his fingers with mines. “He’s got some nice pomades, in there...expensive.”

“Duff,” my voice is hollow, I look up at him with pleading eyes. “I can explain all of this, okay?”

He nods, brushing his thumb over mine.

“I know,” he swallows, his voice thick. “What’s his name?”

I sigh out a breath and casts my eyes upwards, trying not to cry.

“Daniel…” I answer, quietly. “We’ve been...I moved in a few months ago, but it’s been a little over a year.”

I don’t let myself close my eyes, making myself look at him as he swallows, processing my words and looking around the room.

“You love him?”

“Duff,” I don’t know how to answer that question, not right now.

He’s been away for a while, and came here making me feel lost and complete at the same time, now I don’t even know where or who I am.

“Does he make you happy, hun? That’s,” he lets out a soft, wet laugh, “that’s really...what I’m asking you.” I nod, looking down at our hands. “Good.”

“I didn’t,” I croak, and I hate myself for it. “I didn’t know when you...if you,” I shake my head. “I didn’t know, Duff. I didn’t know if I...if–,”

“I didn’t want you waiting for me,” he supplies, shaking his head and looking at me, straight on. “I’m glad you didn’t, I... I slept with a lots of girls too… I can’t blame you for this.”

I feel desperate, scoots myself closer to him and settles a hand on his cheek.

“I’m not,” I breathe, wanting to press my face to his and hesitating. “You’re here, now, Duff.”

Duff nods, and bridges the gap. He presses his forehead against mine, finding my eyes.

“I’m not leaving,” he says, his voice low. “I told you,” he swallows, “I’m not gonna go away without you next time. If I convince the boys…damn.”

I nod.

“And I’ll be here,” I murmur. “But someone else is gonna be here with me…”

He shuts his eyes, squeezing my hand.

“For now,” he shrugs, “and maybe for good, but,” he opens his eyes and looks at me, fully.

My feels tear pooling in my eyes.

“I’m not going anywhere. I...I believe in this, babe. I wouldn't be here if I didn’t.”

I take a long breath, nodding slowly. I realize he doesn’t mean here, my apartment – he means here, in San Francisco...that he wouldn’t be considering this job if it wasn’t for me. I understand his meaning, here: I’m in charge.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, and he shakes his head, but I stop him. “No, I should’ve told you.”

“His shoes were by the door, babe, I saw them.” he says, his voice soft. “I’m not an idiot.”

I feel something break in me, and I find Duff’s mouth, kissing him softly.

“God,” I laugh, my voice low, my lips pressed to his, “we really can’t get it right, huh?”

Duff kisses me, soft and slow, his tongue tracing my lip before he pulls away. He stands up from the bed and I watch, my eyes wide and soft as he moves around, grabbing his clothes and pulling them on.

“To be determined,” he decides, as he’s buckling his belt.

I chew on my cheek, getting out of bed and finding my robe. I wrap it around me and follows him out into the living room, watching as he grabs his duffel bag.

“You can stay,” I say, my voice hoarse, and he looks over his shoulder at me, shaking his head.

“I won’t leave,” he swallows, and I shut my eyes for a moment at his words. I nod.

“Okay,” I whisper. “So when will I see you?”

Duff sighs out a breath as he pulls the bag over his shoulder, then wraps his arm around my waist. He walks me over to the door before he pulls me against him, leaning his face down, kissing me softly.

“I’ll be here another week,” he says, his voice low, “and then...depending on things, I’ll be here for good. So,” he finds my eyes, “up to you, okay? You call me.”

I nod, my head spinning.

“Don’t disappear on me, okay?” I beg.

He shakes his head, softly, kissing me lightly.

“Promise, I won’t.” He replies.

I feel him pull his arms away, and I wrap my own around myself so I don’t do something stupid, like pull him back into my bedroom. I watch as he grabs the doorknob, opening the door and taking a step through it.

“Call me when you get to your hotel?”

He nods, leaning down and kissing me gently.

“I will,” he breathes against my mouth.

By the time I open my eyes, he’s gone. My phone buzzes on the kitchen island and my heart drops, but when I flip it over, it’s Duff.

‘Miss you already, you know that?’

I press it to my chest and shut my eyes, taking deep breaths – in part, to calm down, and in part, because I did.

102 notes · View notes

bokunosimpfiction · 3 years

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Yandere!Heisenberg x Reader Pt 3

A/N: Since y’all demanded a plot that’s what you’ll get. Will it be good? No. I’ve never written anything with a plot in my entire life. Ever. Not even when I did Nanowrimo or whatever. I just bullshitted the whole thing. Like I’ll do with this fic. Y’all are going to have to remind me to update because I have the attention span of a goat. I’ll try to update this on Saturdays??? IDK at this point. ALSO, WHY THE FUCK IS THIS SO POPULAR?????????? DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY NOTES THIS HAS ON AO3???? 69????SIXITY FUCKING NINE??? I HATE EVERYTHING MY LEGACY WILL BE READER CALLING HEISENBERG DOOFSCHMIRTZ I HATE EVRYTHING DSHFUGSADFJ

Synopsis: You have totally, %100, given up on escaping. Totally. You haven't been gathering supplies for one, final last hurray. Nope. Totally not. All you have to do is persuade Heisenberg of that so you can change your mind at the last minute. Y’all know the trigger warning for this series but if you don’t tw:kidnapping (implied)

Taglist: it’s exclusivly @localdepressedvampire so if you want to be on it for just this story or for all my pieces fill out the google doc in my pinned post or dm me and I’ll put you on it. :)

You’ve made a breakthrough in your long-term plan of escapism. Even with the mini escape attempts that were really about exploring the factory and less about actually trying to get out, you hadn’t made a lot of progress: until now.

Well, two, really… Okay, maybe 1 ½. Firstly, you found a sawed-off two-barrel shotgun. With ammo. In fact, there was a various amount of ammo around the factory, but no actual gun. Until now. The second discovery, which is nowhere near as useful, was a window. Which was probably 50 or more feet up from the ground. You didn’t get a chance to inspect it that much, considering as soon as you saw it and got a glimpse at the far-off ground, you had to run again from Lycans.

Which gives you a basic idea of a way to escape. You knew where the ammo was, you knew where the gun was and had a route to the edge of the building, and hopefully could find stairs at the end of the hallway. Now all you had to do was find a time where you could be gone long enough to get a decent head start before, he notices you’re even gone. Even when he was in the workshop, he kept a close eye on you, keeping you in arms-length to the point where it taxed on both of your mental health.

And even then, in that chair in the small room, you watch him work in the finer details on something the size of your head and torso. You try not to look at the phone in your lap, he doesn’t even know you have it, much less how great the reception is in the building. How did he not know about his old phone that was still working fine? Oh well, he doesn’t need to know you’re looking at memes and reading feel-good wolf-star fanfic on ao3.

The best idea you had was to leave him while he was asleep, but there were two some issues with that: he clung to you like his life depended on it, your back to his chest and arms around you almost tight enough to keep you awake; it was dark as hell in the hallways of the factory as is, but it would be impossible to navigate safely with the lights; and the Lycans were most active outside at night, which was where you were trying to go. They’ve tried to eat you before as they show no discrimination on food.

The only way to get a good enough head start would be to leave while he didn’t notice you were gone, and wouldn’t notice for a long, long time. And that when it hit you. The only time he ever left you by yourself was when he had to deal with the other three lords. And while he left you in that basement that you originally woke up in, you had memorized your way out and found that going up five flights of stairs took you to that faithful widow.

Would you have enough time to explore and look for an actual exit/entrance, or should you play it safe and find a way to go out that window. You wanted to laugh to yourself, you’d never think that going down a 50ft plus drop would be considered safe, but here you were, kidnapped and held hostage by one of the people your late grandmother warned you not to associate with, or even go near. The letter you received directly quoted “the four lords and their mother, Mother Miranda, are not to be approached or associated with at any costs. You’ll know them when you see them, they smell like death and money. See them and run.”

You can’t help but find that ironic, considering that you did try to run, heeded her warning, and still faced the consequences that were far worse than she had warned you about. You regretted coming here, to this small village, when you first arrived: no friends, and even those you tried to approach held you to her standard and expected them to be just like her. You were far from her kind and optimistic nature (at least that’s what you heard of her; you hadn’t even known of her whereabouts until she was dead).

Even the duke, who had helped smuggle you into the village, didn’t seem fond of you. It was a shame, you tried so hard to impress him. But he saw you to a point where you could easily reach her old cottage without having too many issues, turned his cart around, and left without a good-bye. It bothered you to no end that your only companion for about a year or so was an elderly outside cat and the creaking noises the walls made at night.

And then the cat died and not even a week later you got kidnapped. You never considered yourself lucky, but damn if that wasn’t the worst streak of luck you’ve had in a long time.

You pretend to turn a page in your book and scroll through your Instagram feed, seeing friends having fun at the beach, or studying at the library, or your old best friend taking selfies in provocative clothing to your ex-boyfriend. Did she forget he cheated on you? She wasn’t always the smartest, but she brought that heartbreak upon herself. You see a photo of your mom, she had posted a picture of a black and white photo of her with her mom, you’re guessing, you have no idea who that old woman is.

This is the last photo I had with my mom before she died. We lost contact after I moved out. I wish we parted on better terms, Nana.

She’s in a prairie dress, holding an ancient-looking key in one hand, and the other wrapped around her mom, a middle-aged woman with long hair in two braids and a face that had too many stress wrinkles. You guess your mom was as bad as you were in college. The background looks dreary. You would have guessed it to be the quality of the photo if you hadn’t recognized the house behind them as the house you lived in used to live in.

The loops on the handle of the key look familiar. You spread your fingers apart to zoom in and see the blurry engravings on the side. It was the payment you gave to sneak into the village. You thought it was a worthless family heirloom at most and found it strange that he had even found interest in the key, or even valued it deeper than money in general. Maybe this photo or other photos of you and your family would help out.

Why is that key suddenly piquing your interest? Were you that bored, as to sit there and think about a key that was at least twice your age? A key that you didn’t even have. You needed a hobby besides escapism and rejecting your captor’s sexual advances. You look up at him again, only to find him leaning against the desk, hat off and sunglass placed on his forehead, his gaze on you. It wasn’t his normal piercing one, that studied you and calculated your every move, but soft and lazy. His current gaze was dreamy; he was daydreaming about you. You found that equally undaring s it was unnerving.

“Karl.”

“Yes, Sweetiepea?” Honestly, what the fuck.

“Firstly, why are you staring at me like that? Secondly, that is the most disgusting way to use that pet name. I need to take a shower after you called me that.”

He chuckles light-heartedly. Even his softer more genuine, happy chuckles are booming and loud. “Okay… Sugarplum!” And he busts out laughing.

Clearly dodging the first question and focusing on the second. You can’t believe you gave him ammo for his annoying-you-gun. And you thought you’d grown immune to most of his… less-savory traits. Were you growing used to him? Next thing you know you’re going to like him and develop Stockholm syndrome!

“You’re a shit head, hobo magneto…” You turn your head away and let your hair cover half your face so he can’t see you smile. You’ll miss him when you escape and get the duke to smuggle you back to your home in Bucharest. But only a little. Just because calling Heisenberg these names are funny.

“Why don’t you call me by my name, I know you know it.”

“You sure about that?” You quip back.

“You’ve lived with me for at least two months now!”

“Hm…. I think I know your name! It’s uh…” You are totally faking not knowing his name. “It’s… Heidi Carlson? Yeah, that sounds about right!”

“It’s Karl Heisenberg!”

“Quit being so silly, Heidi! Maybe it’s nap-time!” This was a little too fun.

He looks back at his project for a moment and genuinely considers it. “I know you’re being antagonistic but you’re probably right.” And with that, he walks towards you and goes to scoop you up. You have to shut your book quickly in order for him not to notice the phone in between its pages before you let him pick you up.

He immediately notices that. “Are… Are you sick?”

“No! Of course not!” Because you genuinely aren’t sick, and he’s already up in your business as-is, you don’t need him dotting on you because he thinks you’re sick or something. You’ll go fucking crazy.

“You’ve put in zero effort into anything remotely physical since your last little failed escape attempt.” He gave it a little bit of thought. “You’ve given up, haven’t you, and you’re just depressed about it aren’t you?”

You want to say no, you really do, but if Heisenberg thinks you’ve given up on escaping, perhaps it’ll give you enough space to plan the big one. The reverse heist so to speak. “No- I… okay maybe I have but I still don’t like you.

He leans down and presses a kiss to your forehead. “Good girl. Now let’s get us that well-deserved nap.”

You plug your nose and turn away as a joke. “You’ve gotta take a bath first, you smell like oil and sweat.” You don’t fight it, because you have to play the part, but you still have to act a little bit like yourself.

“Okay, fine doll, but don’t think you’ve escaped my barrage of affection, because as soon as I get out of the shower-“

You bonk him. And he looks at you so confused before he smiles and leans down to nuzzle his nose against yours. You try to hold the bile back in your mouth and lean forward and peck his lips before leaning back. You failed at trying to not visibly gag.

“Ew… I can’t believe I just kissed you.”

“Well, I guess someone caught feelings… Didn’t they?”

#Karl Heisenberg #yandere Heisenberg #yandere resident evil #resident evil x reader #yandere heisenberg x reader #heisenberg x reader #tw: kidnapping #fluff #well it's as fluffy as it gets with sarcastic reader-chan and yandere heisenberg #he thinks this is fluffy #because he's fucking delusional

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kashimos-hajime · 4 years

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late night devils | b.b.

summary: bucky gets revenge on his ex with you, the girl he never got over no matter how much he thought he did.

WARNINGS: smut (18+, oral - m receiving), daddy kink, sub/dom elements, y’all out here being nasty and vindictive, drinking, swearing, mentions of cheating pairing: modern!bucky x fem!reader word count: 5.0k

a/n: smut with very little plot bc i have no brain for it. enjoy heheheh ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) bucky is PUSSYWHIPPED ngl

Bucky doesn’t expect to get a call asking for him to come over when he’s sitting at the bar counter, but he gets it and if he could, he’d break his phone in his fist.

“I told you, Dot, it’s fucking over.” The music is blasting in the club, bright with life, as Bucky tips back another shot. It’s a busy Thursday night. The dance floor is nearly completely occupied and the bass thrums through the floor as he tries to let his ex down gently as he has been for the past ten minutes.

“You can’t be serious. You think you can just walk out after three years—”

Alright. That’s enough.

“And do you think you can just call me like I’m some fucking booty call three days before your wedding after you dropped me like I was fucking nothing? No. Goodnight.”

Tapping his screen to hang up, Bucky sets down his phone with a hard sigh and gestures to Sam for another line of shots. His hand was burning from how long he held the stupid phone for, and he cools it down by cradling his vodka glass, pushing it back and forth between his hands.

“Dot, again?”

“Yeah.”

“Tough, man. I’ll get you some shots when I get Romanoff off her little blondie’s lap” His friend taps the bar counter in a show of support before heading to the end where Natasha was flirting with one certain blond man. Steve. AKA their resident bouncer currently off duty. Bucky rolls his eyes, smiling for a moment as Natasha turns around. The two give a talk before Natasha ducks underneath the countertop door and slips into the crowd, Steve in hand.

“Hey, Sam!” A sharp, too-sober voice catches Bucky’s hearing and he turns to see a woman wrapped in a leather jacket and tight fucking jeans burst through the crowd. Rain is still glistening along your shoulders and you pull your hair out from underneath your jacket. You wear a hoodie beneath the leather and as you lean against the bar beside him, he catches the words printed onto the chest.

Yes, I’m single. It reads, bright white against the black of your hoodie. Now’s your chance.

His eyebrows rise as you catch Sam’s attention. His friend glances at you but Bucky merely shrugs, looks at you, and thinks, A regular? Fine. I’ll bite.

“What’s the strongest you’ve got?” You tap your fingers impatiently and he watches the strobe lights glint on your black nails as you lean forward on your arms. He shifts back and you send him a glance, eyebrow arched as your eyes rake visibly over his form. Damn, you’re confident, and when you grin, he decides maybe you’ll be an apt distraction from his fucking problems.

“Not the usual?”

“Need something stronger tonight, Sammy,” you sing and he grins.

“I’ll make you something special. Let’s work up to Everclear, yeah?” Sam turns to Bucky, leaning onto his elbows. “Whaddya say, boss? Break out the Everclear for a pretty girl?”

“Now, hold up,” Bucky says, putting up a hand to catch your attention and he smirks as Sam brings out ten shot glasses pinched between his fingers.

“Hey.” Your eyes flicker over his body visibly and he smirks, twisting slightly to look at you fully. His knees part widely and maybe it’s the alcohol he’s already had, but it looks like you glance right between his legs.

“Hey.” The red lights swing their way, blinding him for a moment before it’s gone again. Sam lines up the shot glasses and Bucky watches as he pours them overflowing before glancing at you again. “Wanna? On the house.”

“Are we working up to body shots?” you ask slyly, sliding into the empty stool as he shrugs, grabbing the first one on his end. You take one from the other and throw it back as he does the same. It burns all the way down.

“If you wanna,” he says with a shrug and you laugh. “Hold on the Everclear, Sam. Let’s get to know the pretty lady first.” You snort into your second shot as Sam shakes his head when someone flags him down.

“Well, I’ve gotta get to work,” he says pointedly. “But you kids have fun.”

“Fine by me.” Bucky shrugs. “That just means I get all your attention.”

“Don’t like sharing?”

He half-laughs, pushing down shot three and four in rapid succession before slamming the glasses down on the wood. “Nope. I’m Bucky, by the way.”

“Consider me charmed.”

“No name?”

“I’m not looking for names tonight,” you say before you order another line of shots.

Something about you is undeniably charming. You give the air that he’s known you his whole life as you talk and listen and laugh. He gravitates towards you as you speak and talks about everything when you listen because he has this feeling you won’t judge him. It’s something about the confidence, the way you don’t give a fuck about what he thinks of you. It’s so different from Dot.

Dot, who worried about what that girl was thinking about Bucky or what that guy thought about her. And there was nothing wrong with caring, but Bucky couldn’t bear to give a shit about anything anymore.

“So you’re here because of a broken heart?” you point out after he explained his phone call prior to their meeting and he chuckles, the vodka making his head pulse with the beat in the club. The red and blue lights flash and blur in his vision but your face is still clear.

“Nah. I don’t love her,” he says, turning to the mojitos he ordered for the both of them. Yours is half gone, his gone completely. “Just… sick of being some stupid second fucking choice. She leaves me for a millionaire then comes crawling back for one last fuck. Fucking ridiculous,” he spits, grabbing your mojito and sucking it down.

“You’re preaching to a damn choir,” you say scathingly.

“Husband?” he pries and you eye him for a moment knowingly.

“Boyfriend. Left me for some kid in high school. We’re fucking third year college, man. That shit’s so gross and I’m ready to beat the shit out of him. Might as well do it drunk.”

“Hah, I did that once.”

“Get with a highschooler?” you ask, voice tinging with something judgmental and he laughs because it’s such an outrageous notion and he can’t help but agree. Fucking nasty.

“Fuck, no. I had a best friend I was fucking in love with,” he begins, the mint cool against his tongue. “High school. Got creeped on by some older dude and I beat the fuck out of him when he got too close for her liking. Got expelled, never saw her again after her grad when I realized she was probably going to head to uni and go big, but damn if it was worth it, even if it meant she went with someone else to fucking prom. Fucking Brock Rumlow.” His eyes drift to yours as you stare at him and he chews on his straw, explaining in the briefest of sentences. “Resident asshole of our year.”

There’s a quiet where he sets down the mojito again, and his head is swimming with memories. At the last time he saw the girl of his dreams, graduation cap pinned to hair and a sunset burnishing their street gold.

“No fucking way. Bucky?” you say and he looks at you from his—your—drink. “As in James Buchanan Barnes?” you ask with a scoff evident in your voice and he arches an eyebrow. “Oh, you can’t be serious.”

“What—” His insides are on fire, and his eyes fall to your lips as you press them into a frown. “Who?”

“You fucker!” You slug him in the arm and he yelps, clutching the offended bicep as you take him by the shoulders. “You fucking left me!” He is forced to look at you as your eyes search his. They’re dark with something he thinks is bitter love, and his eyebrows knit together. What is his luck with women lately?

“Who the fuck are you?” he yells over the thundering music, but his answer is swallowed up by a pair of searing lips. Fists in the lapel of his suit jacket, he groans into your mouth as his hand darts to your hips. He drags you flush against him and you crash into his body. Hitching a leg over his, he feels up your hoodie and you open up beneath his mouth. Your hips dip against his as you jump into his lap and he holds you there by the thighs, squeezing the flesh through your jeans.

“Fuck, James,” you whisper and he feels it all again in a heartbeat. That intense, selfish love that seized him as he walked away from you. The way he fucked you in the bathroom before the ceremony, gown bunched at your waist, pants barely shoved past his hips. The curious disgust every time he got with someone that wasn’t the girl from the stall. It’s you. “God, don’t you recognize me?”

These past few years dating Dot, feeling like he’d move past a tiny infatuation, obliterated to nothing as your voice tears down his defenses. Tears down everything he’s built, every lie that you’re nothing more than the past.

“Sweetheart,” he murmurs against your desperate lips and you sink into his lap deeper, arms wrapped around his neck. “Fuck. Yes.” He tilts his chin up when you run your teeth along his neck and his eyes close shut. Heat is surging to his cock at the thought of tearing you apart here and his jeans tighten as your hips grind down against his. “Could never fucking forget you. Grown ass woman, now, huh?”

“Fuck me,” you whisper, pulling off of him though it’s more of an order and he nods, standing up with a stagger. Your hand is insistent on his wrist, hand melting through his skin.

“I live five minutes away,” he mumbles, drunk off his ass. When he looks at you, he doesn’t see smokey eyes or mulberry painted lips. You weren’t always so dark, direct, rough around the edges.

No, you were bright eyes and strawberry lip gloss once. Straight A’s, straighter laces. By the books and popular and pretty and innocent until he got you on his bed and ate it out of you.

Maybe he fucked the good girl out of you.

He doesn’t mind. He already knows he likes it when you’re bad.

“Fuck.”

His nails scratch down your back pleasantly and you purr, pressing him deeper into his couch. You’ve managed to slip out of all your clothes on the walk up and his hand digs into your hip, his other hand working against your slick heat. The heel of his hand rubs against your clit as you lift and sink into three fingers. Your walls clench around him and he groans at the tight suction as his phone rings.

“Ignore it,” you mumble, kissing him sloppily and his tongue glides against yours, burning with vodka. His hand runs up your back to grab your hair and he yanks your head back, licking down your neck. “James—”

“Fucking missed this, sweetheart. Fuck. Missed this pussy more than anything else,” he groans. Your pants whisper against his ear as your hands roll into fists against his head. Your arms wrapped around his neck, you rock your hips against his hand desperately. “Come on.”

You moan right into his ear when his wrist flicks up and his fingers plunge deeper into you, wet with the first orgasm he’s wrenched from you just like this. It breaks and your whole body shudders. Your walls tightens around his digits and he increases the speed of his fingers. Your legs trembling, you let out a hoarse cry.

Your voice breaks and your nails dig into the nape of his neck as you come on his fingers. Your thighs clench around him as he bends his finger inside you and you choke out a moan. A pulse travels through your body as he lazily plays with your engorged clit and you twitch with every gentle stroke as he pulls you through your high.

His phone lights up. Ding. Ding. Ding. And then, his ringtone blaring in the thick heat of his room.

You’re sweating against him, resting your whole body on him as you kiss along the cord of his neck and he bites his lip, groaning. You nip along his collarbone before soothing it with your tongue, tasting the alcohol he’s beginning to sweat.

Lazy love.

“She’s not gonna stop fucking calling,” Bucky whispers in defeat, hand stalling inside you and you groan in frustration, hips grinding against his heel. Prompting yourself up, you frown. “Fuck. I have to pick up.” He bites into your breast, licking your nipple in passing before leaning over to grab his phone. Your legs widen, and you lower yourself deeper into his lap as he keeps a hand firmly on your ass.

“For fuck’s sake,” you growl, slipping your hand down his cock and he lets out a groan against your shoulder. His cheek pressed against your joint, he stares at the Caller ID in dread. “She treated you like dirt and you’re still picking up her calls? I think you should just put her in her place.” The venom in your tongue makes something inside him twitch, makes him want to just pin you down and put you in your place because you don’t know shit and Dot isn’t worth my time anyway but instead, he slaps your ass and shifts his legs apart.

“Alright, that’s enough. I’m picking up that call no matter what, sweetheart.”

“Are you serious?”

“Get on your knees.” You pause and he turns to you, a thrill boiling through his blood as he slaps your ass. “Let’s put that mouth to use.” Your eyes go black with lust as you swallow, sinking to the floor between his legs, and he chuckles, spreading his legs farther apart. Your fingers trail along the line of his hips, lips whispering along his thighs as he clears his throat. The phone is still ringing in his hands as he looks down at you and arches an eyebrow. You’re smirking and he grabs one of your curious hands and wraps it firmly around his dick. “Get to work.”

As soon as he’s in your mouth, he picks up. You run your palm down the base of him as you take him in deeper and he lets out a sigh. You’re warm, wet, and he tilts his head back when you swallow. Eyes closing, he lets out a hoarse breath and tries not to give himself away too quickly.

“Bucky?”

“Who is this?” he asks, toying with her, weaving his free hand in your hair. He ups the volume, just enough so you can catch a hint of a word or two over the wet sounds of your mouth.

“It’s your Dotty, Buck.”

Pressing down on his thighs, you angle your head to take him further as if you’re displeased he’s even talking to her at the moment, jealous, even, but he simply grabs a fistful of your hair and tugs you back right, keeping himself just as deep down your throat. You gag, swallowing again.

“Yeah. What do you want?” His words come out breathless. He raises his head just enough to watch you work, eyes glued to the way your fingers, wrapped around him, move up and down. Your eyes are blown out with lust, already on his face and you smile against his thigh as you seem to take him down further. Wet lips wrapped around his cock, hair a mess around your face, it paints a pretty sight. Your tongue flattens against the underside of his length, and he groans when you slowly pull off. It’s an agonizing ecstasy, the way you seem to swallow him deeper despite drawing away. “Oh, fuck. Just like that, sweetheart. That was good, baby, That was good.”

“‘M I being good, daddy?” you ask, voice muffled, and his hips thrust into your mouth just as his hand forces you down, and he closes his eyes at the heat searing his blood. You’re so fucking good.

“Yeah, sweetheart. Don’t worry ‘bout a thing.” He cradles the phone closer to his face. “Fuck. Dot, what do you want again?” he asks. The line is nearly dead and a flash of satisfaction hits him as you moan quietly against his cock. The vibration shoots up to his stomach and he hisses out a breath. “You’re doing so good, sweetheart.”

“Yeah?” You bob your head between his thighs, the hand not around him digging into his hip. You hollow out your cheeks, the suction sending his head into the stars as the slick sound of your mouth ceases when you simply keep him in your cheek, blown pupils wide and innocent. Your hips twitch against his foot, seeking friction and he smirks. His needy little girl.

Bucky lets go of your hair, patting your cheek before wiping away the trail of drool leaking from the corner of your mouth. He leans forward, dragging you off his dick with a slight pop and a chill brushes against his length as Bucky pinches your chin between his thumb and index finger.

Pressing an open-mouthed kiss against your panting lips, he doesn’t care if Dot can hear every single fucking sound.

He pulls away before you have a chance to reciprocate and your whine follows him as he sinks back into the couch. His hand finds your hair again, guiding you back down his length and you seem to sink back onto your knees. He plunges endlessly down your throat as he clears his own, nearly forgetting he really is on the phone.

“Sorry, Dot. I’m a little distracted right now,” he says nonchalantly, the smile working onto his face.

“If you’re busy—”

“Nah.” You purr at the lie and he tugs your hair as he stifles a moan—a warning with no merit. He keeps you still despite your impatient wiggle and he opens his eyes, simply admiring your face full of his cock. Your eyes are at half mast as you rest your head against his thigh, and his finger traces down your cheek, along your jawbone, as he adds, “You’ve been blowing up my phone all night. You’ve got my attention now, darling.”

“Bucky,” Dot intones, sounding a bit tense and Bucky can’t help but wonder why, “seriously. It’s fine. You clearly have other company.”

“Oh, don’t worry. My girl over here’s just keeping me warm. Isn’t that right, sweetheart?” He moves the phone from his ear to your mouth where he taps your cheek and you let out a soft, garbled moan, eyes fluttering shut. Bringing the phone back to his ear, he chuckles. “You tired, baby? You getting tired?” His tone is mocking and you’re subdued by the way he commands the air as you nod. Your jaw must be aching as you hold onto his thighs and lean against his leg. You’re a sprawled mess against him. “She’s getting tired, Dotty. Make it quick so I can take care of her.”

“Bucky, this isn’t you. What are you doing?” Dot exclaims but he doesn’t care as he lets out a long, guttural groan at your tongue running along his length in your mouth. Still trying to earn his graces.

“Finally getting the time of my life after you left me high and dry for a fucking year. I’m moving on just like how you did during our relationship. How’s the wedding planning? Feeling nervous?” he asks tightly as you swallow, teeth grazing along his skin and he looks down at you. Warning you for real this time. “Watch it, sweetheart.”

“It’s going… okay. Bucky, I… I didn’t want you to be doing this while I talked to you, but please, listen to me. I’m still in love with you.”

You pull off his dick with a long stroke of your tongue and he groans, hand tugging at your hair as you climb up his body. You nip at his skin along the way, your whole body stretching languidly against his as you brace a knee on either side of his hips and sit down in his lap.

“Seriously?” You press kiss after kiss around his face, long fingers wrapped around his cock and rubbing it slowly. Your purr rumbles in your chest as you dip your head to suck a mark into the underside of his jaw and he runs a hand down your back, cupping your ass. “Don’t you think it’s a bit too late right now?”

“You're not giving me any attention, daddy,” you whine with a pout, his dick against your abdomen, just there and he knows you must be aching for it to speak up. Leaning in close, you place your mouth along the cheek where the phone is, trailing tiny little teasing kisses along his swollen lips and flushed cheeks. He tries to snag your lips but you merely pull away and bounce in his lap impatiently. His cock brushes against your stomach, painfully hard, and a groan rips through his throat as you gently settle a hand on his chest.

“I know, baby. Just give daddy a moment, alright?” Bucky murmurs and you pout, your hand pulling at his dick. His hips twitch, jerking into your fist as you lay your head on his chest, slouching against him, kissing his jaw fleetingly. “Be a good girl.”

“Okay,” you mumble as you lazily pump him. Your thumb presses softly against the tip, spreading precum down his shaft and he groans, tipping his head back and closing his eyes again. You smile against his collarbone as you speed up the pace of your hand. A tight-lipped groan in his chest, he runs a hand up and down the curve of your back.

“It’s a mistake. This wedding’s a mistake,” Dot pleads as you watch his expression. He can feel your stare burning into his neck as you press quiet kisses against his chest. A knot tightens in his navel. “I know the way I treated you was shitty, and I know you must’ve moved on, but—”

“Dot, you left me, cheated on me, lied to me about everything.” Bucky bites down on his lower lip. “Fuck. You’re doing so good, sweetheart.” You hum against his chest. The crash is so close and your palm slows down. Growling, he looks up and pins you with a glare, but you merely look at him innocently and he sighs, brushing a thumb across your cheek. “I have moved on. It’s been a year since we broke up and I think it’s time you did, too.” You raise your head off his chest, shifting in his lap as you straddle his hips upright. His eyes follow you like a wolf as he tries to calm down from the high that never came. His hips twitch against your legs and he lets out a growl when you move your hand away.

“Bucky, wait—”

The phone is plucked from his hand and a protest builds up in his throat as you rest your other hand on his shoulder. He looks up at you, lips parted and you smile, sickly sweet. In the dim light of his room, he sees the way the shadows play dangerously on your face. His hand on your back slides to your hip, and his lips find your left nipple as he sinks his other hand into the flesh of your ass.

“Dot?” you ask sweetly as if you’ve no awareness at all, but by the way your eyes flutter, you’re well aware of his mischief. “Hey. Jamie’s a bit busy at the moment. Can you call him tomorrow?” Your smile sits on your face as it turns smug. “Great. Bye!” You hang up and toss the phone onto the coffee stand before cupping his face and kissing him fiercely. It bruises his mouth, sloppy open-mouthed kisses, and he groans as you raise your hips and slide him right in like their bodies were made for each other. His vision explodes in stars as you sink, his cock buried deep inside you.

“Fuck was that?” he mumbles when you part from him for a moment to breathe. Your hips slowly swing against his, taking him in deeper with every move as your hands, still cradling his face, burn through his cheeks. His hands run up and down your sides, your front, and you sigh at the rough palms against your sensitive nipples before he hoists you up more comfortably on his lap. “Jamie? I’m not fucking five.” He thrusts up with his question and your breath hitches.

“Fuck. Fuck, I’m sorry..” Your lip caught between your teeth, you rock against him faster and his hips lift to meet your thrusts as you tilt your head back. You arch against him, eyes squeezed shut and he pushes your body forward, teeth running over your breasts. “Fuck, James.”

“Bad girl, hm.” His eyes close and your fingers run through his hair, hug his head to your chest. Your moans are a symphony in his ear and you bounce in his lap, knees digging into the cushions.

“Yes, daddy,” you whine into his ear, gasping and the way your every word becomes high-pitched makes him want to fuck you through the couch. You're complete putty in his hands, warm like fire and malleable to his touch, and he kisses the valley of your breasts, his hands tracing the curve of your spine. “I’ve been so, so bad.”

He digs his fingers into your skin and twists, letting you fall onto the couch as he slides his palms down to grab your legs. Everything he touches is wet, burning, and the squelch of your pussy around his cock sends him into overdrive as he puts your legs up on his shoulders. Your eyes are squeezed shut and your mouth is open in a silent moan when he thrusts deeply into you at this new angle. Your hands find his and fingers interlace as he pins your wrists to the armrests above your head.

Smirking, he pushes deeper into you with no grace or rhythm and you thrash against him, mewling at his slowing pace, begging to go faster with the way your wriggle your hips back against him. “Daddy, I—”

“Shh, sweetheart. Now that I’m not busy anymore, I think daddy’s gonna have to teach you a lesson.” Your eyes barely open at his words and he smirks, making sure your attention doesn’t stray for a moment. “Keep those eyes on me, sweetheart.” You bite down on your lip, trying to stem desperate gasps but he growls a warning as he speeds up to a punishing pace. You’re overstimulated, exhausted, but still you try to push back against him, try to get him as deep as he can get.

You’re so eager to please with those plush, pink lips. “Yes, daddy. I’m sorry, I’ve been bad.”

“Sorry for what?” he wonders aloud just as your eyes squeeze shut and he feels your peak in the way your abdomen goes taut. Slowing down again, he nearly laughs at your disappointed whines. He pulls out completely, waiting for an answer and you cry out at the loss of fulfillment. Your legs lock around his neck. “I’m waiting.”

“Daddy, please... please, I was so close.”

“Give me an answer.” His tip brushes against your heat and you shove your hips forward. “How’re you gonna apologize when you don’t even know what for? How’m I gonna fix it?”

“Please...”

“I’m waiting, sweetheart.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t listen, daddy.”

He slowly pushes in again and your mouth drops open in an oh as you welcome him easily. You’re so damn wet that he slides in all the way he can with no problem. You lift your hips, heels digging into his back, and he slowly begins to thrust into you again. The sound of his hips meeting yours punishingly, the wet slap of skin against skin is the only sound in the room besides your panting breaths.

Bucky smiles.

“I’m gonna teach you a lesson not to talk out of turn tonight, understood? G’na teach you that when daddy’s on the phone, when daddy’s busy with other things, you behave if you wanna stay around,” he whispers, voice darkening with every word and your breasts heave as he runs a hand down your body. Fingers sneaking between their bodies, he presses a thumb against your clit and you fall apart with a shameless moan that bursts from your heaving chest.

Bucky wonders how he ever moved past you. You with makeup streaking down your pretty pouty face.

He didn’t. He never did.

“Oh, god,” you groan, dreadfully broken, still trying to recover but Bucky’s not finished with you yet. No, he’s going to make up for lost time for the rest of his life he can. “Fuck… James. Oh, god.” Your walls clench around him, dragging at his cock as he pauses inside you and he lets go of your wrists. Your legs slip off his shoulders.

“You miss me, sweetheart?” he murmurs, nuzzling your cheek and you pant, nodding weakly. He turns to ensnare you into a heavy, tongue-filled kiss as he sucks on your bottom lip. “Miss me a lot?”

“Yes, daddy,” you mumble, voice warped by his incessant kisses and he smiles, ravishing your mouth with his teeth and tongue. He gives you this small moment because it’s going to be a rough night and he wants to savour every last bit of it. By morning, he won’t hear a single peep out of you with how much your throat burns from screaming his name.

That’s three for him, zero for you, and Bucky’s not sure if it’ll end when morning comes.

He wants to ask if you’ll stay and he has a lot of furniture he needs to break in.

The kitchen counter looks like a wonderful place to start to do both.

2K notes · View notes

baobaojng · 4 years

Text

when icarus falls (jung jaehyun) - act two (final)

when icarus falls - act one, half time interval, act two

jung yoonoh (jaehyun) x reader - college athlete!au , crush!au

themes: angst, fluff, (super tiny tiny tiny implied smut)

reminders: YOU HAVE TO READ THE HALF TIME INTERVAL BEFORE YOU PROCEED TO THIS PART!!

summary: some tragic story of you sharing one class with your long time college crush jaehyun who never notices you until he accidentally reads your work and he gets curious— oh, and he uses lame excuses to get to talk to you.

note: AAAAA here we finally are! thank you so much for the kind words and the support y’all gave during the entire process of this fic, i’m so grateful! hope to see you guys read my fics in the future! from here, this has been ‘when icarus falls,’ thank you.

wordcount: 15,375

Chittaphon and Doyoung did not ask any questions when you asked them to drive you home, but since you spilt your own feelings to them - they already knew that something bad happened between you and Jaehyun. You were silently holding sobs in the backseat, not even wanting to make any semblance of a sniffle, but it caused more pain to your windpipe that felt like it was swelling. When they reached your apartment an hour and a half later you immediately got out the car, wanting to vomit on the sidewalk. Although you knew that what had happened with Jaehyun punched the sobriety back into your senses, your body seemed to protest otherwise.

“I’m so fucked.” You managed to say in between breaths, your mouth tasted like acid. You hated yourself for ever drinking and for ever setting foot in that place, your two friends worried behind you - Chittaphon having to pull your hair back. And then you cried in full volume, like putting yourself on mute pented up even more of your emotions. They didn’t know how to respond, but you couldn’t blame them for that. There was always an assumption that they would never really understand you even if you told them how you felt, and they really wouldn’t. In fact, at this point, not a soul could understand what you felt for Jung Jaehyun.

They don’t walk you inside your apartment; you assured them that despite your puffed up face and the strained feeling of your throat that you could make it to bed safely. It did not feel like the right time to be coddled by your friends. You just wanted to be alone.

Buzzing sounds were coming from your phone, and Jaehyun’s contact photo was flashing across the screen. Your eyes squinted at the light, but it hurt more knowing that he was trying.

Jaehyunnie: let’s talk (3:04am)

Even in text, it seems, you’ve rubbed off of each other; he even typed the way you did already.

Jaehyunnie: please (3:05am)

Jaehyunnie: just answer me, please (3:05am)

Jaehyunnie: y/n please (3:06am)

Tears dripped out of your eyes continuously, it was going to be hard trying to fall asleep.

Jung Jaehyun’s number was officially blocked on your phone. For hours you tried convincing yourself that this seriously wasn’t chickening out - this was more about you knowing that there wasn’t going to be good conversation about what had happened, plus your ego would not want to be compromised by immediately jumping at his request of talking. Your emotions needed to mature a little bit more, and until when you didn’t know. Space was needed and even more so the time for you to really think things over. For once you did not allow yourself to point fingers at the alcohol or the circumstances of that night; it was meant to happen then anyway. The world was cruel in so many different senses that it reminded you that you couldn’t uphold the friendship you established with Jaehyun. It had to end the same way it started: where your world crashed down around the idea of your feelings for him.

When Monday rolled around, it took a lot of guts deciding whether or not you were going to end up going to your Literature class, but you painfully forced Chittaphon to vacate his seat next to Jaehyun and sit next to you - afraid that you would have no form of protection if Jaehyun were to try and approach you in class.

“You’re about to drill a hole through the floor with your foot if you keep on thumping it up and down like that.” Chittaphon commented, all while you didn’t notice how nervous your body was reacting.

“Drill a hole through my head, won’t you? I seriously don’t want to be here.” You agonized in your seat, covered in about three layers of clothing in an effort to make yourself believe that it would be a good disguise against Jaehyun. Maybe, just maybe, he would flat out forget you existed if he could not see you in the mounds of sweaters you tried to concoct this morning. It was some delusion wanting for him to not notice you and for you to run away from this with no feelings at all.

Chittaphon seemed a little sad for you, the downwards slope his lips were going to was enough of a sign anyway. “Cheer up, won’t you? If he did the wrong thing at the wrong time and you know you were wronged somehow, shouldn’t he be the one to suffer like this? It’s really Jaehyun’s loss, not your’s.”

The comment was a little too soon to make, especially when Brianna Chang wrapped herself around Jung Jaehyun’s arm like jewelry as they walked in Literature at the same time. She sat down where Chittaphon normally sat, and Jaehyun didn’t seem like he even noticed that his friend wasn’t sitting there. She did not even take this class, but to be fair it wasn’t even twenty minutes till the class started.

Suddenly you regretted the layers of clothing you wore; they felt like a boiling prison chamber.

When Brianna Chang (very loudly) laughed at something Jaehyun had said and placed her hand on his forearm, it sent an echoing pang into your chest. So this is what it felt like looking at him from afar, lest you forget where you were before the two of you had become close. This is how it felt like seeing him not care about everybody else because he could hang out with whomever he wanted despite the dirty looks thrown his way. Quite literally, this is how it felt like taking the backseat. And when Brianna Chang left five minutes before the professor’s arrival, Jaehyun walking her to the door, his eyes searched for yours. Only a split second of surrender occurred until you stripped yourself away from his gaze; you weren’t playing this game.

Jaehyun looked like he didn’t care anyway, and it hurt more to know that he just looked at you and walked back to his seat. You expected him to carry on his efforts at trying to talk to you, but you should have known that he wasn’t one to prolong things.

This was foul two, the first he committed that night on the beach.

Maybe you were just that disposable.

You finally decided to answer Chitapphon who looked just as puzzled as how you felt. Unfortunate how he was debunked so quickly. “You were saying?”

Dinner became an issue you thought you would never think about. It seemed that you’ve grown so used to having Jaehyun ask you to dinner everyday, him waiting for you by the tree you claimed in the quad. Now it was just straight walks back to your apartment alone, not realizing you needed the evening sustenance until your stomach started growling while you were trying your best to distract yourself with all the reading requirements you were digesting in advance. Maybe it was metaphorical for how you were trying to avoid Jaehyun, you could only go in for so long before realizing how much you needed him now. The harder you tried to avoid him physically, everything else would remind you that you couldn’t forget him or dodge the idea of him. It was diabolical how you were so used to this routine before you became friends with Jaehyun, only for it to be hijacked now because you built most of your time around him.

A video call request from Lisa chimed in, you suddenly had to dig through the multiple pages of books that buried your phone. Right, there was a mixer she was trying to invite you to but you declined. You answered her call anyway.

“Hey.” You spoke to the pixelated mess on your phone the audio already chiming in, mashed up sounds of music and other people.

“Y/N! Are you sure you aren’t free tonight?” She said, the lighting over on her side a little bit weird, but the signal came in better and you could see her clearly.

You switched your camera to show her your table, “yeah I’m sure, I have to write about Persephone tonight.”

“Oh, I thought Jaehyun would be keeping you preoccupied.” You loved your friend but you did not have half the heart to admit to her what happened, you knew she’d find a way to try to get you to talk to him and you were not yet capable of doing that.

“Nope, just me.” You reminded her, switching back to front camera.

“Yeah actually never mind,” Lisa said, this confusing you. She quickly switched her camera this time and zoomed in to someone. “Jaehyun’s right here partying too!” She remarked, and now you could make out the figure she was trying to capture on camera.

It was Brianna, her perfectly colored hair indicating it was her, and Jaehyun dancing on each other among a small crowd.

Suddenly, you did not want to eat. You had no appetite at all.

Foul three.

It was quite odd for Johnny Seo and Mark Lee to ask you to hang out with them after class. Not that they were difficult to be around, they were actually really fun guys - except you never really got super close with them. They were probably the closest ones to Jaehyun if you were to make estimates.

“I made a class outline for you so you wouldn’t pass up on getting some chow with us at the very last minute.” Johnny handed you a neatly written reviewer; he probably took some of the same units during his pre-law.

“And I’m here too so you probably can’t resist me and my fun charms.” Mark announced.

You could very easily try and pretend to match their energy, but you would be lying if you did and that on its own wasn’t fair. It was half true that you would pass up on hanging out with them (also because Johnny was one of the key people during the beach party), but only because they reminded you so much of Jaehyun— too much of him to rub off on every single thing and make your mind go back to him.

So you just smile and take the outlined paper and nod along, silently telling them that you were down to go wherever they wanted to.

Now, their idea of a fun time was to go to an Ikea to have food and look at furniture. You didn’t expect it from two goofballs who seemed to probably have zero knowledge on home care, but they proved you wrong.

There was no real idea when they asked you to hang out with them; you originally thought that when they walked up to you, they’d immediately allude to wanting to know about why you and Jaehyun weren’t hanging out as much and why you didn’t go to their practice for the past two sessions. Chittaphon and Doyoung had promised that they wouldn’t tell any other soul about the incident at the beach, and of course anything related to the feelings your harbored for their team captain. Instead they just went up to you out of the blue and told you they wanted to go out.

It would have been way too optimistic for you to expect that they wouldn’t brush on the topic either.

“So,” Mark said with a mouthful of meatballs, “why don’t we see you around much?” He asks cautiously.

“What do you mean? We see each other in school all the time though.” You try to be passive about it, because you very much know what he is hinting at.

“Why don’t we see you around much with Jaehyun then.” Johnny clarifies, and you nod once as you put away the drink you were holding.

The expression on your face is blank, and you realize now that you’ve mastered using it to really avoid how you felt inside. “You two really have no clue, do you?”

A ‘pft’ sound escapes Johnny’s lips, “of course we know something, but it would only be fair if we asked you. Especially when Jaehyun’s been whoring around trying to fool himself into believing he likes what he’s doing.”

“Let’s all just let him be. Besides, I’m sure there’s a reason for what he’s doing and maybe we think he’s unhappy because we don’t like his choices. If we all regard him the way we really do, then we should respect him and whatever he does, right? I’m respecting him by keeping my distance.” You shrug, maybe you had to leave it alone; you had no fighting chance.

“Don’t you think it’s worth trying getting through to him though?” Mark asked you with hopeful eyes.

Your nose crunched into different creases, “see, I blew him off way too many times for that to be possible. I don’t think he’ll want me to talk to him anymore either.” No, you wanted to talk to him for sure. You were just so scared of being confronted with the truth: you crossed lines that should not have been crossed. “Besides, it’s enough that I’ve liked him for as long as I have. And way too much that I was the one that messed it all up too, I should leave it alone.”

“If you say so, then I won’t force it. You’re your own boss.” Johnny respectfully said in defeat.

Walking around looking for blankets, the three of you caught up on how you all were. Your mind could not pin together how they had some sort of idea of what happened - maybe Doyoung and Chittaphon did snitch on you or worse, Jaehyun could have told them something. In that case, you wouldn’t know what he had said or what he had conjured up.

It should not have surprised you when you saw Jaehyun with Brianna, him whispering something a little too close into her ear. He was holding a basketful of home items. ‘Wow,’ you thought, they were going domestic now.

You were caught stuck in your tracks upon seeing it, and thankfully Johnny was behind you so you were able to lean on someone and not fall from losing your balance.

“Out of all the damn days he could have gone to go out and out of all the damn places.” Johnny huffed under his breath, but instead you tried to set him back into a calm mood by tapping at his shoulders with your palms.

“It’s alright Johnny.” You assured as Mark kind of just stood there to awkwardly assess the situation at hand.

“I don’t think it is.” Mark spoke and you noticed that Jaehyun had spotted the three of you. It felt like the first time you ever laid eyes on him, but the great feeling didn’t last long— certainly not lasting as long enough as you would have liked.

“Hey.” Johnny stepped out to pretend to be glad to see his friend, you noticed Jaehyun trying to make his way closer to all of you with Brianne just trailing behind him.

With the basket of duvets the three of you had selected earlier, you tapped at Mark to signal him to follow you away from this running into each other incident.

Had Jung Jaehyun the nerve to ruin Ikea for you, fucking Ikea.

Foul fucking four.

Jaehyun made you sick, he was some ritual that you embedded deeper in than the dermis of your skin - every single thing reminded you of him, even if they weren’t memories you shared together. It seemed that every single thing that had attached nostalgia to it had a little bit of Jaehyun. That’s why you decided that you were willing to forego your common routine in order to avoid even the slightest idea of him. He was like salt that degraded the metal away from you; it hurt even hearing the syllables of his name.

Doyoung usually accompanied you to your trips to the common lounge in school, as you insisted that you felt uncomfortable with the idea of being alone in public in some way. He happily agreed to being your study buddy, wanting to catch up on learning from you because apparently it was easier.

There had to be some way for you to simply avoid and adjust: the measures being taken to the extreme when you figured out that maybe now you took a better liking at Mediterranean food because you never ate any with Jaehyun, you did not take walks by the same route going back to your apartment— hell, you didn’t even want to hang around your living space because everything that used to be so organized was all messed up the way Jaehyun had left them. It felt like you were evacuating the storm that he was, and it was devastating.

For a while you were able to successfully carry out this goal by snubbing him in any sense that you could. Except, you had to admit that it left a pit open in your stomach each time you saw his back during Literature. Sometimes you could tell you were shaking from the wrist to your fingertips just because he made you wary.

Your success did not last long, like any other attempt at trying to avoid him.

He committed foul five when he entered the common lounge with Brianna, seeming to hold matching paper cups of coffee - distracting you from your productivity.

Jung Jaehyun never used to step foot here in all the years you’ve liked him, and even now he was getting in the way of your routine.

Four grown men had to convince you that the only way for you to get over whatever it was you were feeling was to flat out face it and try your best not to care. ‘Try your best,’ still did imply that you did. It implied that Jung Jaehyun still had some effect on you. Although you were still trying to convince Johnny, Mark, Doyoung and Chittaphon that you were fine with ‘leaving it alone,’ they could see right through you.

“You’re beating yourself up about him.” Chittaphon warned when the four of them practically barged into your apartment one afternoon. It was an argument you couldn’t win and a situation you couldn’t convince them out of. Thankfully you were surrounded by sensitive fucks who could really feel how terrible this was affecting you— you expected them to be more indifferent, to just not want to put up with your constant passive-aggressive answers and just agree even if they knew you weren’t truly speaking what you felt.

The real reason why they came over was to tease you with an ‘open invitation’ to having a friendly group dinner, with beers if your mood allowed, because they felt like you needed a little bit more fun and to stop being so paranoid all the damn time. There was a catch though: you’d have to sit through their basketball practice. On that note, you were about to jump out of your own skin in order to tell them ‘no,’ and that you did not want to even set foot in the basketball gym. Johnny thought way ahead though, telling you that Jaehyun has been negligent with practice these days and that he wouldn’t be there.

What Johnny didn’t tell you in full detail though, was he most likely wouldn’t be there.

So that meant while you were sitting by the bleachers- eyes roaming around at the spacious gym, wondering how you could sit here before almost all the time and not feel bored out of your mind, your friends were a little panicky about Jaehyun’s possible arrival. The place smelt like it used to, if humidity had a smell in this sense it definitely would be sweaty - mixed with all the different sprays each of the guys had. They were pretty surprised you showed up too, Yukhei and Donghyuck genuinely pestering you with tight hugs as they were convinced you passed away. Good for you, they had no idea at all about the context.

It felt like you were revisiting a dream: a little unreal, and a little melancholy. Never expecting you’d find yourself here.

Even the time you spent apart from Jaehyun felt longer than the time you spent almost everyday with him. Sadness could do that.

Foul six was even worse, when Jaehyun came in with Brianna again - smiling like he always did when he was with her. Your mind trying to recall if he ever smiled at you as much, or if he smiled at you as brightly.

He looked at you for three seconds, you could count with how slow your heart beat. But when he did see you, he lost his smile and he looked away.

Needless to say, you requested so many beers when your four friends took you to dinner— Johnny footing most of the bill.

It was a Monday when it happened, you were walking out of class alone (this time you were the one to want to try and savor the feeling of familiarizing yourself with yourself again, after what had happened in the gym and after another terrible hangover - you figured that maybe it was yourself that you were missing.) You thought that maybe it was time to breathe deeper and try different things out, although it still hurt you that Jaehyun seemed to be doing much much better at recovering than you did.

Well, who’s to say there was anything to recover from, right?

“This is one of the last requirements you’ll ever submit in this class. No, it isn’t in usual analytic format— rather, I want all of you to write up how you feel like you can related to Icarus in the myth of Daedalus and Icarus. Deadline is in two weeks.” You professor had announced right before you were dismissed, you simply took a note in your phone about it and waited for everybody else to exit so you could steer clear of walking with groups of friends that would obviously make you feel uncomfortable.

You were just about to walk out of Literature when you stopped in your tracks to notice that Chittaphon and Johnny were cornering Jaehyun outside the lecture hall. Morally, if you had any in tact for the sake of yourself, you would have gone and ducked your head down and brisk walked the hell away from there. Though, right now, you did not even have the guts to walk past them. So you decided to stand where you were behind the big doors and hide. Yes, eavesdropping was a terrible idea but you couldn’t help but wonder why the two were cornering the team captain; they very clearly discussed their dismay towards his insensitivities toward you and his negligence towards the team lately, but they knew much better than to ask for some confrontation. Besides, you’ve never seen them hold serious faces like that. Not ever.

“Jaehyun,” Johnny said deeply, he wasn’t speaking in the manner of a team member or a classmate, but more as a friend, “what the hell’s going on with you?”

You don’t see Jaehyun shrug, but you can hear the dismay in Chittaphon’s whine when there is no vocal noise that expressed Jaehyun’s answer.

“You said you were willing to talk to us! Can you at least give us a little more than that? You’ve been shrugging and giving one worded answers these days and it’s really getting on everyone’s nerves.” Johnny demanded.

“Nothing, nothing’s wrong at all.” Then there it is. Jung Jaehyun finally speaks, but you think that as you hear his voice - you’ve missed this voice so much - that it does not sound like him. Technically, it does, but it does not feel the way he really speaks. Jung Jaehyun used to speak in a way that even the way his voice vibrated at the bottom of his tongue, you could feel every pronounced expression that he was trying to put out. This Jung Jaehyun sounded flat, dense, as if his words were thrown around in a void. It felt cold.

“Seriously? You’re going to keep acting this way? Isn’t anything important to you right now?” Johnny raised his voice, you could tell the answers he was getting frustrated him.

“What? I can’t go around and have some time for myself now? Is that not unfair Johnny?” To no avail it seemed, it was even more challenging that Jung Jaehyun kept his monotone voice.

“I’m not saying that it’s wrong for you to take some time off but this isn’t you Jaehyun. Bigger games are around the corner! And what? You’ve been disregarding Y/N’s existence like she didn’t even mean anything to you? It’s fucking bullshit.” The tallest exhausted, and you couldn’t help but feel cramped up in a tight spot when he mentioned you.

“What do you want me to say? That she matters? I think I’ve done more than make it clear at this point, Johnny. If she doesn’t want me to matter, I’m done. She doesn’t matter.” Fuck, that hurt.

With hot tears dripping on your cheeks, you walk out of where you were standing. To this, Johnny’s eyes go wide and Chittaphon tries to reach out and console you. But Jaehyun’s face is something else; it crumbles and it falters down to the realization that you had heard everything.

It feels like you are retracing your steps on the beach when you walk away.

“Y/N! Wait!” Like how he sounded before, it was ringing. How his voice claimed the ceiling of the hall. He was chasing after you this time, and he was getting closer faster.

You have guts this time, even if you know you look like hell. Turning around you face him, “I don’t matter, right?”

His brows furrow in distress. “It isn’t like that.” Oh, but to you it was.

“I know what I heard,” you exhale a deep breath, “just leave me alone Jung Jaehyun.” You shrug him off, but he grasps onto your forearm.

“Can you just please listen to me for once and not run away?” There’s a lump on your throat you can’t swallow, but you stand where you are and you nod slowly. It hurts that you want to hear him out.

“What else is left to say?” You try to exhale deeply, even through ragged breaths you were taking in.

Jaehyun drops all his things on the floor, despite the deep loud sound of them falling, there is no commotion made. Only now warm lights of the campus are turned on because it is late, it is quiet, and your knees are about to clump in together to freak you out. But he breaks you even more when he pulls out some stapled sheets out of what he was attempting to rummage along his items. At first you don’t recognize the thing he is holding; it looks worn out with many creases and dog ears at the sides and you wonder what is it in his hands— but then you recognize the detail in spacing: it was your paper. Somehow it made sense now why it had gone missing right before you were to show it to Doyoung, and how Jung Jaehyun couldn’t get off your hair.

“I’ve always had this,” he tries to explain even with all the layers of hesitation, “except I never got around to explain it to you.”

You are caught in a trap, and you cannot respond. Only with silence and your teeth pressing against each other in anticipating agony.

“These words have kept me drawn to you. I think I’ve gone out of my way so many times to make these words come to life. And those months being friends with you I just can’t help but feel like I haven’t completed what I was supposed to. I just can’t explain why, but I don’t regret reacting how I did on that beach.” Jung Jaehyun is still unimaginably confident as he tells you this.

But you tear up even more, “that’s where you’re wrong.” The voice in your throat croaks and falters.

“How can you say that?” He asks as if he is hurt, which is a very big leap from how he had sounded when he talked to Johnny. You take a very deep breath.

“Because I’m not a fucking charity case, Jung Jaehyun. What you feel isn’t real if that’s all that’s kept you with me for these past few months. You just confuse your pity for an entirely different thing, but you should know that I never needed you help.” You cannot look him in the eye as you look for anything else to distract you: the floor, your heartbeat, the edges of your worn out Converse. “It just sucks that I know I’ll love you even if you think of me that way.” It feels like your throat was choking up on its own, suddenly you wished you were swallowing the words you had uttered.

Jung Jaehyun doesn’t answer you, and he looks like he cannot, not when his eyes were wide as they were - and the rest of his expressions just glitch onto you.

Then you walk away with salty tears fitting themselves into the crevices of your lips as you try your best not to let him or Johnny or Chittaphon to run after you. There was already enough running.

Perhaps you expected way too much of Jung Jaehyun to have the tiniest hope to even believe that he would get out of his way to try harder to talk to you, because he was doing the exact opposite of that. It seemed he had traded you in, in exchange for the life he had before the two of you were friends. Although it was a little odd to see him divulge back into a lifestyle he swore he hated, it never dawned to you how much it suited him. Jung Jaehyun was in his natural state of a dream around everybody else, and you were burying yourself even deeper in all the aged terrible literature that would piss you off just because you wanted to distract yourself. Who were you kidding? It had only been two days, and to be honest to yourself - you weren’t really holding up great because your choice of strategy did anything but distract you; it only reminded you that you were forcing yourself to be distracted by him.

You’ve lost any avenue of focus, so you decided it would be fair to end up just not attending your classes anymore. It wasn’t like you were dropping out of class, you had a few weeks left into the semester and you could pass a lot of your requirements over e-mail - it was easier to just decide not to go and wait until Jung Jaehyun graduated.

“I heard she’s dropping out of her units.” One of the girls from the table said, Jung Jaehyun only now arriving to Brianna Chang’s lunch invitation, overhearing this. He sat next to Brianna, who was replying sadly to one of her friend’s new gossip.

“What a shame, she’s really intelligent too.” She commented, and Jung Jaehyun had to raise a brow.

“Who are we talking about?” He asks.

“Aren’t you close with her?” Brianna asks him, and he feigns any knowledge of the sort. “Y/N?” She asks again and he couldn’t believe his ears.

He pretends he doesn’t really understand the situation, “she’s dropping out?” Trying to suppress his own worry, he just keeps quiet.

For as long as Jung Jaehyun remembers, he’s always noticed you. Even before you got close to the mutual friends you two had shared, he always noticed how intelligent you were for ranking up at the top of your classes and how you never seemed interested in what a traditional college student would. Instead of taking yourself the entire way by drinking your nights out like a majority of people he knew did, you always seemed to keep things under a minimum and just go with the flow. What was even more interesting was how you were still able to say ‘yes’ to your friends’ invitations as well as study your brains out, and always attend his basketball games. To Jung Jaehyun, it sure was intriguing. He made sure he read all the paper work you submitted in class whenever you gave the teachers your permission to post them for reference sake (he heard a rumor that you were just that good to be used for reference) - and it never failed to make him even more curious. Even if he had all the chances in the world to try and introduce himself to you and get to know you because you were always around Doyoung and Chittaphon, he never wanted to force anything out of it.

During the first time your Literature professor called in for a meeting regarding the trip to Greece, he was a little bit intimidated to find out you had signed up— but it shouldn’t have surprised him because of course you would sign up, he did not have to know you well to know that he would probably find you where there was a trace of learning and extra credit or some challenge at such. He could tell how uncomfortable you were sitting next to him though, rummaging your papers all too quickly to pass in an assignment to be the first one to leave, causing you to not notice a couple of documents fly off of your compilation.

Jung Jaehyun was kind enough to pick them up to give back to you just to be, well, kind. But when he looked up to hand them back to you, you were simply gone from the room. For days he tried his best to give your papers back, and he never dared reading them. Each time he did try giving your papers back you always misread the situation, assuming he was nearing you because you were always with your mutual friends (he thought it would be easier to talk to you this way because he wouldn’t know how he could muster any courage up if he went up to you alone) and you would leave. Jung Jaehyun swore millions and millions of times in his head that no matter how long it would take to bring back your personal belongings, he would not read them. Not a single word. He did not triumph from this promise, curiosity taking over the best of him, and he ended up reading these papers. The letterhead was written for one of your classes, in perfect format he might add. Jung Jaehyun read each word as if he were digesting them, bit by bit in each space and in each phrase - he found it curious: how the almost always uptight seeming person he had always seen around school felt the way that they did. If his mind were to tell him that maybe you wrote out of compliance, he wouldn’t believe it either; it was all too perfect and all too feeling for him to say you wrote out of the sheer need to.

The most striking thing was, it made him feel lonely— or, lonelier, if that were possible. Maybe you perfectly resonated the same feelings onto him through words, and it was apparent to him that he was a bit more frustrated at the thought that he did not know how to change your mind, he did not know how to be close to you.

It was definitely out of his hands when Chittaphon arranged a night out to drink after they had won that game when Brianna Chang confessed to him in front of everybody. He recalled how he saw you in the bleachers when he was switched out during a time out called by the other team’s coach, and how he didn’t care for the ‘major’ confession he received after they had won; he was too busy wondering why you disappeared along with the crowd, because he kind of knew that you would typically stay behind a little longer not to jam yourself in with the crowd. He had thought it would mess him up for the rest of the night which made him want to drink to forget about the girl he barely knew anyway, but to his surprise you were sitting there by the haphazardly arranged set of tables just put together - and he knew that after he accompanied his friends to order by the bar counter that it was definitely his chance to sit next to you.

It was another thing to text you the next morning, him trying his best not to write the most awkward greeting - considering that he did bring you home the night before. But he thought he’d never have any other chance to get to talk to you and try to be one of your friends too, and so he just did what he could even if it meant that he would plow through his own embarrassment.

The boy kind of proved that he had balls of steel when he asked you to have dinner, having a strong feeling you would turn him down because you probably would be busy. But then you had agreed to him anyway - to him it was just an invitation to dinner, but when Doyoung was there with you and asked what the two of you were up to, Jung Jaehyun thought that maybe it wasn’t ‘just dinner’ especially since his heart was beating faster than he would have liked.

You won him over without even knowing when the two of you talked over dinner, and even more so when the two of you had walked to your apartment just so he could take a look into your work. Jung Jaehyun realized that at the very least he was interested in you, but he was sure he harbored a little bit of feelings. From there everything had just blown into proportion.

He couldn’t imagine what it would be like without grabbing dinner with you, having you sit in the bleachers doing your paperwork but also surprisingly giving him constructive advice on the sport (this was honestly just the icing on the cake), dragging you out when you least expected to - or just seeing the smile on your face whenever you’d exit your dazed expression.

Jung Jaehyun never thought he could ever easily open up to anyone as much as he could to you, it was like spreading out a velvet map over a creaseless table - all his edges seemed to fall perfectly out of his lips and into your own words. He could listen to you recite your poetry all day. He only wanted to see your face after every single practice and every single draining game. He wanted to clasp his hands around your wrist just to catch you off guard, but also only because he had no other excuse to touch you. He knew he loved you since the first time he asked you to eat Chinese food with him for dinner, and he knew he would love you even more when you were so willing to show him your collection of literature. Jung Jaehyun knew he never loved anyone the way he loved you.

Something had scared him though, the idea that he did not want to risk romance with you. To Jung Jaehyun, he always received too special treatment from females - often receiving confessions, making it easier for him to know if someone did like him or not. So in his eyes, you seemed to treat him in no more difference than the rest of your friends. Many times had he longed to bring up the possibility of something else between the two of you, but he did not want to ruin what was already there. Maybe if he didn’t risk it, the routine he built around you would stay and he wouldn’t have to deal with the idea of ever losing you. Even if it was against his own heart, he decided to try and feel something else for someone else. That’s why he had chased after Brianna.

Imagine his surprise when you had told him that you loved him, Jung Jaehyun felt like he threw up his own heart and tried swallowing it down. When he kissed you, he wanted you to kiss him back and he wanted you to keep telling him that you loved him because he so desperately wanted to tell you that he loved you too.

But you ran away, because he knew that things weren’t in the right order for you to continue. He had just told you that he was pursuing Brianna, and here he was kissing you only because you told him that you loved him.

Guilt ate away at Jung Jaehyun for the next few days. Deciding it was only ever fair now for anyone in the situation, he called anything off with Brianna before things got to serious and before he could regret anything. He waited for you to walk through the doors of the lecture hall for Advanced Literature, but you never came in. He heard people talking about your absence in annoyance, knowing that to them it only mattered that they were talking about somebody else for the sake of gossip. If you were around anyway they wouldn’t bat an eyelash at you, and here they were talking about all the different possibilities as to why the school’s academic ace wasn’t attending classes anymore. To Jung Jaehyun, he was willing to listen to hearsay if only to feed his mind and to try and reassure himself that you were probably doing fine. At least he had hoped so.

“I heard she’s transferring to a different university to take her masters in advance,” the girls behind him were talking about you, “I mean, she’s always been offered many scholarships from a lot of the good arts schools. It isn’t far from happening.” Wrong, he thought. You always swore you would get your diploma and attend your own graduation to feel the payoff of all your hard work. It wasn’t the most likely case.

“I heard she’s going somewhere for extra credit?” Another suggested, and obviously Jaehyun knew this wasn’t true either; you had every extra curricular and extra credit related thing listed down for the semester - and you never mentioned anything.

“I heard she hasn’t been going to classes because something upset her. My dad works at the hospital, and apparently she went into one of the therapy clinics in their wing. She didn’t look so good either.”

Now, this scared Jaehyun, as it was the only real possibility in his head.

He waited for class to be over to be able to talk to Chittaphon, his friend treating him with a little bit more caution since the last time you had a confrontation with Jaehyun.

“Why isn’t she coming to class anymore?” Jaehyun felt like he started breathing after holding in his breath, deciding to get straight to the point already.

To his dismay, Chittaphon could only shrug. “She hasn’t been talking to any of us, we haven’t had contact with her since— well, yeah, you should know.” This seemed even harder for him now, only realizing how difficult he made this entire situation when he could have just grown the balls to tell you that he loved you even before you did.

“Oh.” Was the only thing Jaehyun could say, staring down as he fiddled with his thumbs. He was guilty guilty guilty.

“Jaehyun, I love this reform you’re putting yourself on, but allow her to be lost. Maybe she needs it, in her own selfish way.”

Jung Jaehyun realizes over the course of the next few days that he misses you, and that nothing has really changed that. He thought that he had already known how it felt like to be so painfully in love with somebody, having been in a long term relationship that everybody had pinned for ever since he started off in college. He had remembered dating Kristen Sy mainly because it only made sense to everybody else for them to be together. There was love there, definitely. But the difference it made with loving you meant that he did not have to love somebody just because it felt like they were perfectly made to be cut out for them. In a way, because you were so different from Jaehyun, it made you perfect. Now his mind was kept wondering about all the different possibilities and all the chances he had with you and what could have happened if only he knew how to speak up and to realize much sooner that he loved you too.

He’s been in the middle of wracking up a storm in his head trying to write the paper on Icarus, noticing that (even though that’s exactly the writing assignment) he isn’t any different at all from the character.

Jung Jaehyun, always caught up in his own world where he is always praised an loved by everybody else, but he is left in these moments of vulnerability because he loves you.

It is the championship game of the season, the last game they’ll ever be playing for college basketball, when Jung Jaehyun tries his best to get his mind off of you for just one second. Big scouts are there to watch the game, and he can’t fuck it up for himself or for any of the other boys.

He couldn’t say that during the time outs that he didn’t look for you in the crowds of people, because he did. Trying to imagine that you were somewhere there with Lisa and Chittaphon and actually watching the game. Although he could not locate you, and it was very difficult trying to control his sadness. In his mind he pictured your face, and how intently you would watch the game as if you knew how to play it in the flesh, and how you would clasp your hands together each time you would slightly panic at the possibility of a foul or a missed hoop.

His imagination was not enough, that was for sure, but the idea of you cheering him on and telling him you were happy kept him going. Remembering how you were so genuinely happy for him when he would tell you about how excited he was about being scouted by one of the largest Leagues there was, he couldn’t help but smile his way through the quarters of the game.

Except Jung Jaehyun never prepared for the times when he would remember your face through all the different memories you had shared, even at the final twelve seconds on the shot clock when he was running to their basket— shooting a three pointer with a sure win score, he could remember the way you walked away. And the look on your face when you had cried and told him that he did not understand what he felt.

He stared off of a blank distance his eyes not locked down on anything specific, as the rest of the boys cheered and some got off the bench - Jung Jaehyun’s last time playing for college basketball. Though, the pieces couldn’t fit - even as Johnny Seo smacked him in the arm out of the pure pride he had felt for his captain, and when everybody handed him the championship trophy and carried him from each limb to raise him up as the most valuable player, it simply did not feel complete without you there. Even when their coach told them that SM League would be scheduling an official dinner for him and his team to talk business.

They were all roughly packing up at the locker room now, everyone tired. Through the dreadful noise of Yukhei’s screeching, he placed his items carefully in his duffel bag; realizing now that he was going to have to eventually totally empty up his locker. The metal only felt as cold as how he’d like.

“Jaehyun hyung,” Mark snapped him back into reality, “somebody left this for you a while ago.” His eyes travelled down to see Mark holding a plastic bag, and so he nodded in confused curiosity as he accepted it anyway. It was food? Maybe?

Written in an oddly familiar puppy designed sticky note were the words ‘congratulations, i knew you could do it.’ He couldn’t mistake it for anything else, it had to be your perfectly curved handwriting. Inside there were cans of convenience store beer and a single-sized pizza, reminding him of the times you two used to park by the bay and talk about life in the cold of the hood of his car. You watched his game. More than ever it hit him that he missed you.

Growing up and getting into all school levels, meeting new people and keeping old ones, Jung Jaehyun knew that he just wasn’t the type to really gravitate toward pain. He grew up an only child, with his parents’ undivided attention given towards him and his future - and although he did not make all the friends he wanted, he made really good ones and never had a hard time letting any of them go when time dictated. He learned that every time he used to scrape his knees, it wouldn’t make it feel any better if he cried about it— like every time he failed to make the perfect shot he expected to make in the first place, he never dared to cry.

But with you all he wanted to do was get rid of all the pain - the stupid sensation he felt all over his chest that he could not explain. It was all so alien to him, how you could matter so much to the point where he had to realize now over and over again how stupid he was.

Throughout all the stages in his life he knew that life came easy to him, and he was some how gifted with the charms of reeling other people in, and never having to worry for his impressions onto others. But when he met you, he was always nervous and afraid of saying the wrong thing. When he became your friend he was always thinking about how you must have thought that he was a big distraction and that you had better ways to spend your time. And in those short moments where he could not grasp the events in his own life, he knew he loved you and that’s what mattered anyway.

Jaehyun was writing his paper on Icarus, trying not to divide his attention into anything else. For days he hasn’t seen you in class and his mind wondered what it would have been like if the two of you were fine, and if he had told you earlier on that he loved you too. So now maybe he understood the text a little bit better, maybe he needed to take more chances like Icarus did - even if he knew the repercussions of his actions. And maybe if he did crash and fall, then fail like Icarus, it meant that he took a chance with you anyway.

There was no telling now that he’d broken your heart and his own if he were going to drown in some sea of regret or burn into the sun, but what mattered was that he knew something now that he couldn’t comprehend back then.

He was not afraid of loving you. Not anymore.

His heart was racing, as were his feet and the surprisingly heavy luggage he was dragging around as he and Chittaphon were tailing the Literature professor around the airport in order for them to be admitted to their respective gate. He had his passport lodged between the confines of his lips, trying to keep the thing from touching too much saliva. But then in between his fingers he tried to balance his identification card and his phone, and everyone else wasn’t of help because their hands were all pretty stuffed too. Apparently their flight wasn’t until two hours but since this was a school related thing, they felt the need to panic about being late or potentially getting lost around the airport.

They were going to Thessaloniki now, and there was still no word about your presence - not even your professor mentioning any such detail about an appearance from you on the trip. Jung Jaehyun wouldn’t dare lie and say that he was really bummed that you really weren’t showing up, guilt eating him alive, he hoped over the course of your friendship that the trip to Greece would be a fun thing to enjoy between the two of you. But now, part of him sort of expected a no show from you; no one has heard from you in two weeks, and how was he even able to hope that you were going to show up.

After checking in at the gate, Jaehyun and Chittaphon decided to get some food - as it was about 2 in the morning and they haven’t eaten anything. And there was a twenty our flight in total, the next time they were going to be on land was going to be the layover in Istanbul. Leaving the professor behind to look after all of their things as she claimed an entire bench to the three of them, they set off in a quest to look for some coffee.

“I’ll have two large Americanos please.” Chittaphon told the barista behind the counter.

Jaehyun raised a brow, there was so much caffeine in question, “two? Are you trying to wake yourself up or are you trying to get yourself killed? It’s that, or wasn’t I in charge of buying miss Kim’s coffee?” He asked his friend.

To which Chittaphon responded with a chuckle, “what? It’s not like I’m going to go all berserk on the plane ride after I drink this much coffee.”

“Oh but you’ll have to give me a hard time when you literally get pissy.” Jaehyun joked.

“Who says I’m even sitting next to you, Jae? I’d much rather sit next to miss Kim and tell her how extremely grateful I am to her for allowing me to go on this trip.” His friend jabbed at him.

“Well, whatever suits you Chittaphon.” Jaehyun looks at the barista who was ready to take his order. “Two Americanos and a small box of bagels please.”

As they walked back slowly to find the benches where they set up, talking about how in just a three weeks they were going to graduate, Jaehyun noticed that somebody was talking to their professor. Although, he doesn’t remember seeing anyone they knew when they settled in the gate, so he decided that maybe he mistook a stranger for miss Kim.

“Jae? Where are you going?” Chittaphon asked, three steps behind him as Jaehyun was close to stirring away toward another direction. “Miss Kim is right there.” In Jaehyun’s confused plight, he did realize that he wasn’t seeing incorrectly, and that he was really seeing their professor talking to somebody. But he could only see her back. Miss Kim noticed that the two of them have arrived back and she waved over to beckon them in.

And then the stranger ran a hand through her hair slowly, and a little nervously if his assumption was right by the way her fingers twitched. The thing that gave it all away was that ring around the index finger, one he was accustomed with, something he always saw you wearing.

It couldn’t be.

The stranger turned around, and it was a face he missed a lot. This was no stranger, it was you - little bit more tired looking, and your hair cut shorter. In a way, you did look a little strange; he held a lot of memories in your hands when he took them, scents associated with how he smelt your hair, and each reflection of himself in those doe like eyes. Now your hands were a little bit more frail, and your hair framed your face in a way of change, and your eyes were set in no shock compared to the way his held so much - they were empty. But this was you.

It was, it really was.

Chittaphon was going to have a difficult time trying to explain himself, especially since he and miss Kim knew you were arriving and coming with them to Greece. Also, how he bought you that extra coffee in advance. But most importantly, how he knew the strict seating arrangements of the plane in advance as well. Jaehyun wasn’t going to deal with his piss because you were designated seat mates.

You would have thought that you knew better than to decide to catch up from your apartment, missing two weeks of attending actual lectures - you relied on your professors’ emails. There was some unspoken advantage of acing all of your classes, and being known to be a little more advanced for your age. None of them seemed to second guess your request of asking for all the compliance work you had to accomplish because you had to explain that you had to take a short leave of absence due to ‘medical reasons,’ which was a blatant lie by the way; it was just something you thought was easy to fake since you found your way around to ask for a certificate of an old illness you had when you were younger - that now somehow resurfaced out of thin air. Nevertheless, you put your mind into work and said fuck it.

It was one of the stupidly relieving things you’ve done. It seemed, each time you got your mind off of understanding lessons yourself, your mind always drifted back to Jung Jaehyun - and the answer to avoiding those thoughts were always related to just sleeping it off. The cycle was sluggish, tiring, a terribly perfect way for you to try to grasp the idea of rest.

Until one day after stressfully running your hands through your hair millions and millions of times as the stray pieces disturbed your focus at the pages you were highlighting, you guessed that it was a terrific idea to cut your hair. Surprise, it felt like it freed much needed space somewhere you couldn’t quite pinpoint.

A couple of days on this hiatus you found yourself in, and a ton of coffee consumed later, you were palpitating beyond comfortability. Frustratingly, the facilities got it all wrong when you were trying to explain what you felt one of the men listening by the reception was the father of a girl you had some classes with (you remembered that face from her graduation last year, before she was now taking up her masters), and you were transferred to the therapy unit to make sure they tried all sides of trying to assess your situation. Funnily enough, it took a certified psychiatrist to figure out that you were drinking way too much caffeine.

Then a few days later, you knew that it was the final (final, final) basketball championship game for the collegiate level. Although you were gravely sleep deprived with less tense muscles clinging onto your nerves, you figured that you had a heart somewhere still hidden away tucked beneath Jung Jaehyun’s sweaty strands of hair. You argued with yourself that you should have stayed away, because you knew that it was inevitable for them to win. But you were not going to pass up the final time you were going to see the legendary basketball team you watched all the damn time since you were a freshman, and you weren’t going to throw all of Jung Jaehyun away. Maybe now you were calmer, hiding behind scarier, more intimidating looking people in the bleachers - clumsily balancing the pizza and beer you bought between your fidgeting fingers each time the other team would make a clean steal at the ball. It still hurt somewhere to see him. Jung Jaehyun looked tired on court, and it was the first time you witnessed him looking so disheveled in the place you’d usually find him to be shining. But when the crowd went ballistic when the margin was far off and he took a final shot just for the sake of it, you stormed out to leave your little gift behind. It all just felt happy in your head; you were happy for him, you were very much sure that he would be playing for the big leagues.

Even though you had this whole debacle on how you were secretly catching up with your classes, of course your participation in the trip to Thessaloniki wasn’t out of the picture. Part of you was awfully assuming that you wouldn’t see Jung Jaehyun on the trip because maybe he had half the mind to give it up because you were going as well. But then again from the absence you took, to which you did not respond to any of your friends at all about their worried queries, you thought that maybe it would be a lot more logical for him to go on the trip assuming that you were gone from university. So you asked for a special consideration from your professor, miss Kim, if she would still count you in as part of the trip - to which she answered with ‘as long as you are able to pass, and as long as you are able to commit to going.’

That, if it weren’t for your deep and utter need to be able to hold on to your love for writing, you had to commit to. Sure it was quite difficult to put a little bit of yourself aside in order to really catch up, but unfortunately that was the only path you could take.

Nothing could ever mentally prepare you for this trip. Not even the two weeks you took of intensive studying by yourself, or that time you learned French for a semester and was put on the spot for it by touring a French transferee around your campus. It wasn’t like you did not know that you were going to likely suffer through his presence; it was hard enough as it is to basically put yourself into isolation - and now he’s one of the first people you were going to see.

You had assumed over text with Chittaphon and miss Kim that your rather late arrival was absolutely fine, since they gave off the vibe that only the two of them were patiently out to wait for you at the gate. So when Chittaphon asked you if you wanted a cup of coffee during the wait, you immediately said yes - as you thought that you looked like such a monstrosity, the caffeine boost was very much appreciated. Except, when you arrived to have a brief catching up with only your professor who was surrounded by a sea of luggage, you felt oddly alarmed.

Alarms did sound off in your head when you turned around to notice Chittaphon and Jung Jaehyun holding excessive amounts of coffee, a very bland look dawned by the boy mentioned in the latter. It was as if he was wiped off of all emotion in one whole sweep of just spotting you, and it hurt to see him that way. It hurt to just see him at all.

How did you even get here a few hours later? Basically melting into your seat next to Jung Jaehyun, you felt like you were slowly going to disappear into a little pile of goo. The feeling in the air was terribly odd, especially when you were trying keep your composure - and you weren’t sure whether the feeling was angry or sad. And you wished your body was capable of turning itself into goo; it could save you the immense torture of the awkward tension that filled the air. Because he was there, he was real, he was sitting right next to you. All your eyes could do was try and distract your brain by looking at all the little cracks between the airplane seats in front of you, not minding that it looked like you were staring at the same cartoon projection of your destination from the small television screen from behind the seats. Chittaphon had betrayed you: admitting earlier that he was responsible for booking these tickets last minute because he took on this responsibility. Apparently you and Jaehyun were meant to sit at least ten rows away from miss Kim and Chittaphon, next to each other, with you seated by the window seat. This was a set up, and clearly it wasn’t working.

The hours between the flight it took for you to get to the layover in Istanbul was mildly uneventful. You weren’t able to really sleep it all off because the coffee kicked in at the wrong time, and it seemed the same way for Jaehyun. Who only took to wearing his AirPods, not sparing you a single glance at all. The way you retaliated was through watching a movie that was available in the files on the little television, not giving in to having to ask him if you could pass and pee in the lavatory - or just so you wouldn’t resort to breaking the ice because it was awfully silent between the two of you to the point where your throat felt tender. When you two got out your chairs to get your luggage in the compartment above the seats, it was basically the same thing. Just beelines to get the hell out of there.

You could see the hopeful look on Chittaphon’s face as he and miss Kim were waiting for the two of you to exit the plane. It was the kind of look that expected you and Jung Jaehyun to be chummy, or to at least have spoken over things and have an air of comfort between the two of you. But the three feet distance between the two of you was pretty explanatory, and your Thai friend had nothing to expect.

“We’re grabbing some breakfast here on the ground before our next flight,” your professor checked her wrist watch, “which is in about four hours? So we have a lot of time to wait and to eat.” She said, oblivious to the drama between her students.

When the four of you left the gate of the plane, Jung Jaehyun quickly grabbed your carry-on bag, which left you a with imaginary question marks planted all over your face. If you had any guts to even say anything, maybe you would ask him what the hell was he playing at, but the thing is - you really, seriously had no guts at all to spare and even try to face him at the moment. So you could not contest the action.

Even when all of you found a restaurant to eat at around the airport, it was odd sight to see having Jung Jaehyun carry only his and your orders back to the table - considering that he and Chittaphon were carrying the orders, and Chittaphon was the person to buy you coffee before your flight to Istanbul. Your hands brushed against against that of Jaehyun’s when he handed you your drink, the the surge of electricity left you even more puzzled.

But when Jung Jaehyun asked you if you were okay as you walked to your next boarding flight the few hours later, you decided you couldn’t do this. You could not understand why you did not feel like you wanted to rip his head off, and instead it even hurt you some place in the chest that you did not know could feel that way. You did not feel angry, and it scared you the most how seeing him could change everything so quickly for you.

“Y/N.” He drawled out, he sounded tired trying to come up with reason.

You didn’t have it in you to answer him, so you rushed on over to sit next to your professor instead - with Chittaphon seeing the look on your face. You were horrified, and you weren’t ready to face Jung Jaehyun.

Needless to say, you were sniffling in your plane seat for the first hour until you fell asleep and tried to keep the tears away.

When you arrive in Thessaloniki in Greece, your brain tries to wrack up all the million different beautiful details of the city. You could go on and on to describe the sight that lay before you, but at the moment you simply could not. It was a place that birthed so many different links to human life, and the many things you have read over the years.

You wished you could say that you could smoothly sail through the beauty of the place without having any bothersome thought in your heart because of the boy you were with on this trip, but you could not say that.

It was interesting to think that you’ve liked him for the longest time, and at some point you realized you were the closest friends - the countless times you would text, share the lamest jokes, watch him play in court and worry about basketball after, share meals, take pictures. He was like your poetry collection: you know it for many things and then you realize that all the tears and smudges meant something deeper. Like how he imbedded himself into your skin, and now it’s way different than what it all was.

After a long day of venturing out on the city alone, since you were given the privilege of time, you found yourself walking through the Promenade of the city - where the bay marries the platforms of concrete, stone, and wood. Even in the cold evening air you painfully wonder what went wrong, and how it all got here.

You knew you loved him still, for sure. It was going to take mountains and seas to change that. You could smell the air of the sea, could feel how your feet tried to balance off every uneven step. It reminded you of loving Jaehyun and being his friend, it just all made sense.

Reaching the White Tower of Thessaloniki, you decide that since it doesn’t close for two hours you could spare some time checking out the museum within the monument. It was built in the fifteenth century during the Byzantine fortification, the structure still standing tall on the waterfront of the city. No doubt it’s been tweaked a bit of times throughout all the years, the lights installed inside screamed anything but natural. But you led yourself through the maze of screen heads to be able to try and find your way to get on the top of the tower in hopes to view the sea in a different way.

You reach the top of the tower, only the lights below you truly light up the night. And once again, farther away from comfort, you are alone.

“Can I stand here?” A voice threatens you out of your melancholy, and you were drawn back to that night at the bar - when Chittaphon and Lisa basically abandoned you at the end of the makeshift long table. It seems that Jung Jaehyun asks you these kinds of questions as if you have property rights over all basic human commodities of chairs and floors, and now bricks and concrete. Even his politeness bothers you.

“Sure.” Is the same answer you pose. And he stands three feet away from you, like he has so far during the duration of this trip.

After a few moments of silence, he speaks. “It’s really beautiful, isn’t it?”

You nod, but it’s not like he is looking at you - because you are trying your best not to look at him. “Thessaloniki is, yes.” But he doesn’t respond to you, and you weren’t expecting a response from him either. Small talk worked that way, and it was hard to maneuver yourself into this ‘conversation.’

“No, not this place.” He says, gently. Before you could even respond, you quickly take a glance at him to try and confirm through his expression what he means to say.

And Jung Jaehyun is looking right at you.

“Jaehyun, I—“ You try and reason out that you aren’t ready to face him like this, not when your heart is shattered into a million pieces. And especially not when you don’t care that your heart is broken because he is right there.

“Remember when I told you about getting scouted by that big league for basketball?” He manages to misdirect you just when you were about to step away, so you end up staying in your tracks. “I was so fucking happy holding you then and there when we were looking over the bay on top of my car, and I realized just how scared I was about the future but you made me feel like it’s an absolutely normal thing to feel scared of the unknown. And maybe I wasn’t so scared after all. The view kind of reminds me of that, but we’re standing so far apart, and I can understand why.”

You don’t know what to say, except to keep the bunch in your throat bundled up in nervousness - how you cannot pinpoint what he is trying to lead to. But you find yourself tearing up at his words, and it is salty when your tears find their way to fit into the crevices of your lips.

“Conversely, I think what makes me more scared is that the only reason why I feel like things will go fine is because I believe you. I always really have, and maybe I’ve been too caught up in trying to preserve our friendship to the point where I simply never wanted to tell you that I’m absolutely stupidly in love with you. You aren’t some charity case of some social sciences paper that fell of the file and landed to my hands. It was a lucky thing that allowed me to get to you, and to realize that my admiration must have meant that I’ve liked you for the longest time. I love you because you complete me, and not because I’m trying to complete you. You’re the three-point shoot that makes me win the game by a landslide, Y/N. Now the only thing I know that really fucking scares the shit out of me is losing you and knowing that I hurt you because I tried falling in love with someone else. It’s you.” Jung Jaehyun explains, then pauses. “You can tell me I was stupid for kissing you on the beach like that, I just thought you meant that you loved me and I didn’t know how long for. You can even tell me to fuck off and never talk to you again, and we can try to be civil and enjoy Thessaloniki for as much as we can fake comfortability. I just want to say I love you for as much as I can before I make you run away from me again, because it sucks to know all too well that I love you and that I hurt you. I’m just, I’m sorry.”

You do not speak for as long as you please, because you are trying to absorb what Jung Jaehyun told you.

“Jung Jaehyun, you’re such a fucking bitch.” Are the last seven words you say until you come closer to him and kiss him as hard as you can. He doesn’t expect this at all, obviously - by the way you could feel his face lift in surprise, and the short lag time it takes for him to kiss you back. It’s as if it’s only the two of you there, and you feel yourself unfold in his touch - like the pain drains away from you slowly.

Then, you think, was it so quaintly beautiful to kiss Jung Jaehyun in a historical landmark. Even more beautiful (and kind of confusing) when you forgive him right away; you have been just as stupid as he has.

“So, you’ve been at home all this time, huh?” He asks, as the two of you awkwardly find your way back to the city’s promenade to buy yourselves some time before heading back to the hotel, the distance between you not so far away - but enough for you to feel the cool of the air.

“Yes, I have.” You answer sheepishly, he has you caught guilty of your preference of a flight mechanism.

You turn to face him and redirect the topic back to him, “congrats on your game, by the way. You really nailed that last shot.”

Jaehyun smiles, “you really went on over and watched?”

“I mean, I had to sit somewhere I knew you wouldn’t see so that it wouldn’t be awkward if you did.”

“Well you know what? It was more awkward when Mark gave me the food you got.”

It is your turn to laugh, “I wouldn’t say much about that. All the other boys caught me and I had to make the delivery a little discrete, it was up to them to assign somebody to give the food to you, Mark was just a little unlucky.”

“I’m only a little disappointed,” he pouts, “I really thought you’d be there to hug me first and to tell me I did a great job after my last collegiate game. I should have told you earlier how I felt; this was all really dumb.”

“In my defense, you know I couldn’t just go up to you and hug you after what happened.”

He smiles sadly, “yeah, I know.”

“Jaehyun, it’s really okay. I mean I did say ‘I love you’ first, so it’s on me.” You try to reassure him, but he tries to compete.

“I loved you first though.” It comes out of his mouth with no tone of doubt.

“No, wrong again.” You hold up a loose hand.

“I loved you ever since we had dinner together for the first time, I think it was really there. I know I’m right.” He justifies, but you raise your voice in comparison.

“I loved you first.” You throw the argument back at him.

“No, I believe I loved you first.” He tries to say, and before a loop of argumentation could even happen you start to babble.

“Jaehyun, I’ve loved you since I saw you smile at Johnny from the back row when we became classmates in English for the first time - I don’t see how you can top that. Besides, you just said that you weren’t sure how long I’ve loved you for.”

He looks confused for a moment, and he doesn’t respond. He takes both his palms and clasps at your arms to stop you from walking and to keep you in place.

“Say that again.” He demands

“I have loved you since freshman year? Is that what you wanted me to say, or?” You try not to sound like you don’t understand why he needs to hear this again. But what you don’t know is, as he holds you a little bit tighter, he never knew you’ve loved him for that long - assuming that when you told him you loved him on the beach shore, you meant only recently.

He looks at you in a way you cannot explain, but he kisses you so deeply. And when he pulls away his eyes are filled with question, “I’m so stupid, god.” He says to himself, but you laugh it off instead. “You’re always a step ahead of me, huh?”

Johnny and Doyoung wake you up for a video call request the next morning, you wake up at the annoying notification sound. Neither miss Kim nor Chittaphon encountered you and Jaehyun together last night as you two took a bus back to the hotel after walking through the promenade, so there was no logical reason in your mind that could link back to why these two out of all people were calling you.

But you answer the video call anyway.

“What?” As the pixelated video connects you ask in a grumbled voice.

“Is Jaehyun not with you?” Doyoung says choppily.

“Huh? Why would Jaehyun be with me?” You are confused, as you’re only really waking up alone in your hotel bed.

“Am I not getting transmissions right, or haven’t the two of you made up or something?” Johnny asks this time.

“And when did you hear that?” You pretend you do not understand.

“Dude, I seriously asked Jaehyun to go and talk to you last night because he was planning on doing it anyway but he was chickening out. He texted me a smile emoji at like three in the morning and I thought that it meant that things were fine, but it must have been a sarcastic smile.” He explains.

“So basically you’ve been tailing me through Jaehyun, and now you’re asking me about it? You have real balls, Seo.”

“Are you and Jaehyun okay or what?” Doyoung demands an answer.

You break character just to piss him off a bit. “Yeah we are, dumb ass.” Johnny sighs out of relief from the other line, at the same time you hear knocking on your hotel door and you lazily scramble to answer it. Once you do open the door Chittaphon decides to just barge in.

“Why—“ You don’t even bother continuing your question, instead you change what you were going to ask. “Am I missing something here, or are you all just inviting yourselves to be part of my morning?”

“I don’t know, Y/N. Aside from the fact that Jaehyun woke up way too early for it to be normal and I could hear him singing in the shower. We aren’t even sharing the same room! He’s staying right next to mine and his energy is annoying. What happened? Did you suddenly profess your love for each other or something.” Chittaphon rants out of frustration, but you can only really laugh at this.

“That is precisely what happened, yes.” You answer him, as your Thai friend notices you’re on call with somebody.

“Oh hey Johnny, Doyoung,” He greets as he unsuccessfully waves his hands in the air, “guess we really are the fundamental bridges to their union.” And Johnny is quick to agree on the other end of the line just by the looks of it.

“Don’t get too ahead of yourselves.” You roll your eyes. It doesn’t take long until the entire basketball team goes on to flood your inbox about how happy they are that everything is suddenly alright. You suppose this is a cute thing, how all of these guys have been delicately concerned with what has been going on. You kind of feel like they are the lost boys of Neverland, wanting Peter and Wendy to kiss and make up. This is something you miss. Much to your dismay during that morning, when Chittaphon finally gets back into a good mood after napping on your bed for thirty minutes - in which you’ve already prepared for the day - you haven’t seen Jaehyun yet.

When you go down to the hotel lobby though, there he is, with his hair a little bit damp but his face thrown into a smile once he lays his eyes on you.

“Good morning, sunshine.” He greets, and it even looks like the sunlight is in chorus with his smile. Unbelievable.

“You look way too happy for it to be comfortable.” You comment, but he pulls you into a hug.

“We’re okay now, right?” He asks, and you chuckle into his chest.

“Jung Jaehyun, if we weren’t okay I wouldn’t allow you to do this to me.”

He hums. “I just wanted to say that I love you,” you laugh at him again like it’s the silliest thing in the world to hear— but you are surprised to know that Jaehyun is serious, “I have to make up for the years we could have been in this position, and I could have said it sooner.”

And that’s what Jung Jaehyun does, in every single alleyway and every corner you walk in Thessaloniki. He reminds you that he loves you. When your fingers trace through beautiful words written on the walls of museums, and look through the art piled up in random streets - he tells you he loves you and how you write, and how you tend to overanalyze everything of art you see. He takes notes of this when he takes pictures of you when you are not looking, and you smile when you take unflattering photos of him in return. When he takes your hand, and realizes you are all there is. When he is inside you, and you see how his eyes glint with each time he says that it’s you.

It doesn’t scare you when you get home from Greece. When you have to finally face the music and go back to school, people gawking at the sight of Jung Jaehyun being so outwardly open about the two of you being a couple. It doesn’t scare you to wait for each other after class to go back to getting dinners, and this time spending more and more time with each other. When Jaehyun asks you to be his girlfriend that time when he shadily asks you to go into the court because he said he wanted you to watch him throw his last hoops before the two of you get out of school. It doesn’t scare you when the two of you graduate a while later, and he’s automatically placed into professional basketball, while you’re assigned to do field work for a publishing company that offers travels abroad to investigate history and to simply absorb the world. College turns out to be way faster than you thought; one day you’re crushing on this basketball champion from the bleachers, one day you become hopelessly inseparable, and the next he’s your boyfriend.

Just a few days ago you handed him perfectly straightened envelopes filled with letters you want him to read for each day the two of you would be separated. He was going to intensively train for a while to condition himself in one of their facilities a few states away, while you were off to Crete to take note of significant landmarks and events there. It seemed that you could never have enough of Greece.

“You aren’t coming with me this time.” You talk to him on the phone before you were to board your plane.

“Unfortunately,” he says with a little bit of sadness, “but I’ll see you sooner than you know it, okay?”

“I know, Jae. It isn’t like we’re going to die without each other, this is the fifth time we’re going to be apart for the year but we’re fine. We have to get used to the set up.” You kid, and you practically feel his deep laugh from the other line.

“Oh don’t jinx it, please!” Jaehyun exclaims. “I feel like my heart is going to burst into pieces not being able to hold you.”

“Again, you aren’t going to die Jaehyun, so you better take care of yourself while we’re apart.” You recall the first time he had to go into training and you had to stay behind, Taeyong called you multiple times to say that Jaehyun would refuse to eat because he wasn’t used to the sudden quiet (even though he was with the noisiest bunch in the planet.) He wouldn’t sleep well either, and stay up all night reading because he said it reminded him of you. It took a lot of convincing but eventually you got him to get back on track, which honestly meant threatening him. “If you don’t take care of yourself, I’m going to make sure to beat your ass in return, and you should know that I mean it.”

“Breakfast and dinner don’t taste the same without you.” He whines like a child.

“You’re such a child Jaehyun—“

“I love you.”

Even if he’s said it a million times, it still puts you at a loss of words sometimes.

“My uh, my flight’s boarding. Love you too.” You’re forced to end the call before he can say a goodbye, and although you tell him not to miss you so much - you cannot tell him that you probably miss him more, if not as much.

Crete’s sun is only a little forgiving when you arrive, it is not to hot - but hot enough to bring your face into a scowl. It’s a little bit more calming in Crete than it is in the city you’re from; the streets aren’t as crowded as you would have expected upon your arrival, and the air feels just fine. For a few seconds you think that it might be a little bit easier not to miss Jaehyun, but then you realize that every single little thing you see you automatically remember him - and you want to bring him here just so the two of you can spend more time with each other.

On your first three days in Crete, you try to familiarize yourself with the place. Opting to really try and take a feel at how things are here and how life is, you find yourself exploring places in a quest of getting out of this loneliness you feel. The sun has left your skin in a reddish tint, and the looseness of clothing you carry around just screams how you’re ready for adventure. Chittaphon sent you a link to a few places he heard of from other friends, and that’s how you decided to go around. Eventually, you find yourself in an odd library that offers the sight of artifacts and statues, this is after scouring around looking for some place to eat. You haven’t heard from Jaehyun for the past three days either but you text him a good morning and a good night message each day, you think that the reason why he hasn’t been responding or updating you is probably because he’s too busy training - and it’s happened a lot anyway. So you resort to being on your phone less and try not to think about how much you miss him.

That is, until your phone starts ringing.

“Hello?” You don’t have to look at caller ID twice to know it’s Jaehyun, but the other line is silent. “Jaehyun?” Still no answer, but you don’t have it in you to end the call because it’s him calling.

“You’re looking at the displays of Artemis.” He says after a while.

“Hm,” you look around, and you think he’s only joking but you do notice the display incased in glass, “stalker.”

“And you’re holding a red leather bound book?” Jaehyun continues on but sounds unsure.

A ‘tsk’ leaves your lips, and suddenly you’re on panic mode. “It’s getting a little bit creepy.” You comment and he laughs, but this time it sounds louder than it’s naturally supposed to. So when you turn around to wonder what the hell’s wrong with your phone, you see Jaehyun standing there with his phone pressed up against his ear. You jump on to hug him, and you can feel the vibrations of his laughter. This is the last thing you ever expected. But apparently Jaehyun had to lie about having training; he was given some time off after exceeding his expected performance for the season, and this would be a good way to surprise you.

“Hey.” He peeks over to the book you’re holding: the myth of Icarus and Daedalus.

For a while you wonder if he’s really here, and in a deeper sense - you wonder how he’s your’s and how you ever ended up here. “You’re here.” You say, out of breath.

“I am, with you.” He smiles the smile you love the most.

“I love you.” You bury yourself into his chest, you want to bask yourself in his presence. How he’s here.

“I love you.”

Jung Jaehyun could never say he regretted flying too close to the sun, if it meant falling for you.

fin.

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forever-rogue · 4 years

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Of Princes & Berries - Part 1

A/N: Yeah, so I have like zero self control, and I’m so deep in my Pedro feels and Oberyn is one of my og loves. In this family we throw canon out the window. Canon? I don’t know her. Anyways, this will probably be like 2-3 parts, y’all will get some sexy times, so hold tight. As always, feedback and comments are welcome, and if you’d like to be tagged, let me know! xx

Pairing: Oberyn Martell x Reader

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: slight language

MASTERLIST

»»————-　♡　————-««

Popping a few of the fresh, succulent berries into your mouth, you received a tut and playful glare from the chef that was busy preparing various foods for feasts throughout the day. You gave him an innocent smile before putting a finger to your lips.

"Those are for the prince," he reminded you playfully, passing a jug of wine towards you, "those were imported just for him, best not eat them all."

"Oh relax," you gently bumped him with your hip as you loaded everything onto your serving tray, "our esteemed guest won't be missing a few of them. Besides, these are so much mode delicious than the ones we have here. Ours are so lackluster and have no flavor. These are practically bursting with juice and flavor. Maybe the best I’ve ever had!”

"Why do you think he specifically asked for them?" he turned back to the pot he was stirring, giving you a little sigh.

"Because he's the fucking prince of Dorne?" you started to lift the tray up to carry it to the gardens where he was no doubt waiting, "and he's got impeccable taste. Looks, taste, people throwing themselves at him left and right? What a life he leads.”

"Just make sure this gets out to him," he insisted and you gave him a small salute as you headed out of the dim kitchens, “and no detours to eat more berries!”

A small sigh escaped your lips as you stepped into the daylight and felt the sun's rays hit you and instantly warm you up. Everything felt lighter already. Most days in King's Landing were overcast and not this beautiful, at least not during this time of year, and you planned on taking full advantage of it. Perhaps later, when you were done with morning duties, you’d go and set by the sea for a while. It always relaxed something deep within you.

As soon as you spied the prince, staring out into sea, a smile grew on your face. You'd spoken to him a few times here and there, mostly in passing, since his arrival at King's Landing. He was a bright spot, a welcome interruption in our normally monotonous and drool days.

He always spoke to you in a kind manner, taking the time to ask your name, how you were doing, small things. But unlike most people in the court, he seemed genuine in his actions, kind even. He truly listened when you spoke, rather than just blowing you off.

As you approached him, a smile stretched across his handsome features when he realized it was you, causing a small flutter in your heart.

"Good morning, Y/N," he stood and offered you a small bow as you set the tray down on the table in front of him. It was a sign of respect; reverence. Proprietary would have you bowing to him, but he never was one for rules, "how are you on this fair day?"

"Your highness," you beamed at him, pushing a plate of berries at him, "I dare say my day has been much improved. What good luck it was that they sent me to serve you."

"Good fortune, even a wonderful twist of fate," he sat back and watched you intently, "or perhaps I made a simple request."

"A request," you raised an eyebrow as you sneaked a berry, which just made him chuckle at you. Normally, with almost anyone else, you'd never be so bold. But with Oberyn...it felt normal, right even, "you asked for me?"

"You sound surprised," he mused as you leaned against the table, trying to soak up as much sun as possible, "why does it surprise you so?"

"I don't know," you said quietly, "I just never thought I'd make that much of an impression on anyone. I prefer to pass by quietly, generally."

"You've made quite the impression on me, sweet girl," he said softly. You caught your bottom lip in between your teeth as his words fell over you, "I'll take every opportunity I can to look at that lovely face."

"You flatter me," but a content sigh escaped your lips nonetheless, "it is I who am in awe of your beauty, your highness. Surely."

“Now you’re just flattering me, fanning my ego like everyone else,” he waved his hand at you laughed at him, “I didn’t specifically ask for you just because you fall in line like everyone else.”

“I’m sorry then,” you playfully stuck your tongue out at him, “I shall never flatter you again. Nothing but complete honesty.”

“A simple request, no?” he teased, letting his fingers linger near yours. You studied his hands, the few scars that had marred the warm, tan skin. He was really was beautiful, such a sight to behold in your otherwise dreary life, “can I ask you something...perhaps too forward?”

“Yes,” permission was given without hesitation, and worry. Nothing about him worried in you in that sense. Sure, he was the Red Viper, deadly, feared, and brutal in his own way, but you saw past that...he was also kind, gentle, surprisingly soft spot and quick as a whip, “anything.”

“Have you been with a prince before?”

“I’ve been with many men who call themselves all sort of things,” you shrugged your shoulders as you poured more wine into his goblet, “kings, princes, knights, lords. You name it and I’ve been with one.”

“And have they lived up to your expectations?”

“Hardly,” you grabbed a berry and popped into your mouth, and raising an eyebrow at him, “the only time I’ve experienced true pleasure, it has certainly not been at the hands of a man.”

“Oh?”

“Yes,” you sat down across from him, far overstepping any boundaries that remained. But Oberyn was different; he wasn’t like all the other princes and lords who spoke down to you like you were some sort of mere peasant. He treated you like an actual person. That in itself was enough to keep you intrigued; his delicious, warm accent didn’t hurt either. It was like music to your ears, sweet like the wine that flowed freely throughout the court, and much more pleasant than the harsh accents of the King’s Landing that you’d have grown accustomed to.

“You prefer the company of women?”

“I do enjoy the company of women,” you gave him a lazy half smile, “very much so. They’re beautiful creatures, soft, and warm, kind. Unlike men, they know how to touch other women, how to make love and make it a pleasurable experience, not just spend five minutes pounding into you until they’ve found release like a common barnyard animal. And then again, if all else fails, there is also the undeniable pleasure you can give yourself.”

“Very valid points,” he eat a few of the fresh berries, his dark eyes never leaving yours. A smile played on his features as relaxed in his seat, letting the sun warm him, “clearly you haven’t been with the right men.”

“Do you think you’re different?”

“I know I’m different.”

“Hmm,” you mused, “you’re very sure of yourself, my prince. Is your reputation well deserved? Are you as good of a lover as they all say?”

“I am,” a small smirk played on his lips as he crossed his legs, gauging your every reaction closely. He was curious, almost deathly curious to see what you hid under your cool exterior. You acted like you belonged in the court, under the direction of the Lannisters, but he could see through right through you. He knew you weren’t fully invested in your job or life here; hells, anyone that spared you more than a passing glance could see that much, “do you care to find out?”

“I appreciate the forwardness,” you gave him a wicked little smile of your own, “but surely you’ve got better things, and individuals, to shower in your worship. I am a simple servant, not worthy of anyone’s time, something I am made sure never to forget.”

You didn’t wait for a response before standing up and brushing your skirts off as you turned to head back inside. You’d been gone for some time now, surely you’d be attracting some unwanted attention any minute. You’d only been meant to serve the prince, not converse as though you were fast friends, shamelessly flirting in the open where anyone could stumble upon the two of you.

Oberyn was a welcome change to the cold atmosphere of the court you were used to. He brought a certain liveliness, warmth, and you swore more sunlight, with him. You could only imagine how wonderful it must be back in Dorne, where he got to spread that same radiance day in and day out.

“Where are you from?” he asked as you turned to leave. You paused and tensed up, surprised by the sudden question. He didn’t move as he waited for answer; part of you was tempted to pretend that you hadn’t heard him, but you knew better than to defy the prince.

“I’m just a servant, your highness,” you gave him a saccharine smile as you watched his expression falter slightly. It wasn’t the answer he was expecting, “I am from wherever I am situated. My job isn’t to have a personality, it’s to serve others.”

“That’s not what I asked,” he grabbed a particularly plump looking strawberry, took a bite before standing up and striding over to you. His caramel gaze was focused on yours as he gently grabbed your jaw with one hand raised the berry to your lips. It was a question of sorts, to see if you trusted him. Without hesitation, you parted your lips slightly, letting him pop the berry into your mouth. You let the juices coat your mouth before swallowing, your eyes never leaving his. Oberyn traced his thumb delicately along your bottom lip, wiping away the small bit of lingering juice, “where are you from, my sweet girl?”

“Your highness-”

“It’s a simple question,” he let go of your jaw, his face moving into a softer expression as his eyes slowly raked over you. If it had been almost any other man, you would have been disgusted, but there was some gentle about when it was Oberyn.

“Honeyholt,” the name of your birthplace fell off your lips almost like a whisper, and your eyes darted around to make sure no one had heard. When you worked for the Lannisters, personal matters as such were best left unsaid; they paid you, albeit barely, for your service, not to moan about your previous life.

“That’s rather far from here,” he mused and you shrugged lightly. You were a a child, a mere young thing the last time you had visited your place of origin. You didn’t remember enough of it to truly miss. King’s Landing had been your home since, “what brings you here, to the harsh life of the court?”

“I didn’t have a choice,” you bit your lip, unsure of how far he wanted you to go into detail, “I...was brought here by parents. They needed the money, and I was their only source of commodity. For them it was an easy decision. I haven’t seen them since.”

“I could tell you were not from this forsaken place,” you wondered what he meant, how easily he could tell you were different. You’d spent most of your life trying to blend and not stick out, you’d thought you’d been doing a fairly decent job. Most people didn’t spare you a passing glance, unless they desired something from you.

“And just how is that, if you don’t my asking?”

“You’re much too beautiful to be from here,” he answered and your entire body suddenly felt like it was on fire. You turned your head, gaze intently trained on the cracked ground of the aging palace as you avoided his inquisitive looks. He reached over and with a few gentle fingers tilted your chin up to face him, “do not shy away from your beauty.”

“I do not,” your voice was but a whisper, “people do not usually show me such...reverence.”

“You have kind eyes,” he carried on, “the sweetest smile, hair fair more beautiful than the Lannister gold they love so much here. Your accent gives you away, it is very slight, but anyone with a keen ear will be able to pick up on it. These barbarians here no doubt have come to ignore it.”

“You...” no one had pointed out that fact that you have a slight lilt to your voice in years. You’d lost the majority of any accent as a child, having come to court as such a young one, and being surrounded by nothing but the gruff voices of the crownlands.

“And if you don’t mind my saying so,” he took a step closer and ran a gentle hand down your body, fingers grazing down your side and sending a shiver down your spine, “a figure that any man or woman would be blessed by the gods to know. Beautiful breasts, a round bottom, lovely thighs, I can only imagine how exquisite everything I’m not seeing is.”

His large hand gave your ass a firm squeeze, and a small sound escaped your lips; a mixture of surprise and pleasure. He was forward, there was no doubt about that, but nothing about it felt...wrong, or unwelcome. You could tell he was making sure every touch and word off of his lips that he was making sure you were okay with it. And you were. Everywhere he went, women, and men, fawned over him, dying for even a bit of affection and attention from the prince. Here you were, having down nothing and you were the object of his desire.

“You flatter me far more than I deserve, your highness,” your cheeks were on fire as he smiled at you, trying to reassure you that his affection was well deserved.

“Please,” he insisted, bringing a hand back up to your face, “enough with the formalities. Oberyn.”

“Oberyn,” you repeated, enjoying how it felt on your tongue, so sweet and foreign, much more interesting than anyone you encountered through your daily duties.

“What was your name?”

“It doesn’t matter,” you insisted, but he was not fooled by your attempts at deflection. Instead, he leaned against the carved marble pillar, arms crossing his chest as he analyzed you, “you know my name.”

“My dear, sweet little one,” you sighed lightly at the sound of his voice, so rich and warm, hitting each last nerve within you, “everyone has a name. It means something, even if that of a bastard.”

“What if I don’t want to have a name? What if I want to be no one?” you shrugged as you leaned against the column facing him, “what if I want to hide in the shadows?”

“Y/N,” your name had never sounded more lovely or magical than when it came off of his lips. It sounded pretty, beautiful almost, “it matters. You should be proud of who you are...unless you are some sort of monster, which I already know you are not.”

“You already know my name.”

“And you know exactly what I’m referring to you. I am a prince, sweet one, not a fool.”

“Flowers,” you gave him a soft smile, “just like all bastards of the Reach.”

“But you’re not a bastard,” he pointed out as you nodded, “so why do you claim the name?”

“So I can be no one.”

“You, my sweet girl,” he was by your side again in no time, leaning only mere inches between the two of you. He smelled warm and sweet, likes spices and exotic fruit. Enchanting. Lovely, “are destined to be so much more than no one.”

“I assure you, it doesn’t matter,” you said after a few beats of silence, “my family was once one of the many great houses, just like so many others. But they fell and were broken apart over the years. The remainder of them are common merchants now. It’s easier to claim the name of a bastard than to receive pity for your family’s misfortunes from the likes of Lannisters and Starks and whomever else.”

“I am sure you far outshine them in every way,” he pushed a few locks of your hair out of your face, “your kindness is fair greater.”

“I...I know why you’re here, your hi- Oberyn,” you were scared that you had overstepped your boundaries, but weren’t able to hold back your tongue. He was so forward and open with you, surely he wouldn’t mind if you did the same.

“And why is that?” his curiosity was piqued as he tried to read your expression.

“Your sister,” you answered softly and he shifted on his feet, shoulders tensing slightly, “I used to work for her...when I was just a child...before. She was the kindest woman I had ever met, gentle and sweet to everyone she ever encountered. Beautiful to no ends and her smile could light up the entire kingdom. Her babes were just as sweet, they would grown up to be the kindest people.”

“You knew Elia?” he was quieter now, and had a soft pang to his voice. He still missed and longed for his sister. Even though she had been gone for some time now, he still mourned for her and her children every day.

“She’s probably the reason I’m still alive,” you admitted, “she took me under her wing when I was brought here. I miss her too. I cannot imagine the sadness and burden it must have placed upon you and I would not dare to imagine. But I know how hard it was on someone like me, just a servant.”

“I think of her every day,” he admitted, “I know I cannot get her back, but it doesn’t dull the pain; Dorne has mourned her loss every day. Instead we must honor the memory of those we’ve lost, instead of letting grief consume us, no?”

“Yes,” you agreed, placing a small smile back on your face. You hadn’t meant to bring the mood down, but you wanted to let him know where you stood, that you were on his side, “I...I blame myself some days. When they attacked...I just ran and hide. I ran and ran and ran until it felt like I couldn’t breathe and then I hid and waited, waited till the smoke had cleared and it was safe to come out. I didn’t even try to help her or her babies. I just wonder if...I had stayed if I could have done something.”

“You were a child,” he could imagine the horrors you had seen, all the thoughts and emotions that had stayed with you throughout the years, “it was not your place to do anything. You protected yourself; it is our instinct to flee and hide, especially as children.”

“I was a coward.”

“You were a child,” he repeated firmly, “you were not a coward and it was not your duty to protect anyone. They should have protected you.”

You weren’t even aware of the fact that a few tears had rolled down your cheeks, but Oberyn was quick to wipe them away. He brushed a thumb over your cheeks, in such a soft and intimate gesture, offering you a small, reassuring smile in return. You put your hand on his wrist and gave it a firm squeeze, “thank you.”

“Y/N,” you almost jumped out of skin at the sound of Cersei’s grating voice. Swiftly wiping the rest of your tears away with the back of your hand, you took a step back from the prince, who seemed completely nonplussed, “surely you’ve got other duties to attend to. I’m sure the prince’s wine and berry need has been satiated for now. We know where to find you if we want more. Go on and apologize to his highness for your folly and distraction.”

Your eyes widened in surprise as you let out a shaky breath and gave her a nod. She had her trademark smirk on her face and you wished you could slap it off of her pinched features. She really was cruel down to her core, and you often wondered when the last bits of humanity had left her. You wondered how much she had seen or heard. Hopefully not enough to warrant any sort of punishment.

Instead, you gave her a nod and small bow before turning back to Oberyn, “I apologize for my indiscretions, your highness. Please let me know if I can be of service at any time.”

“What did I tell you, my sweet girl, call me Oberyn,” he was not bothered by Cersei in the slightest and her jaw dropped in surprise. You couldn’t hide the small smile that crept onto your face, “and do not apologize for a conversation I have initiated. Surely even the lovely Cersei can understand that people enjoy conversation.”

“I...yes,” you returned his warm smile, unable to contain yourself and enjoying the little thrill that defying Cersei had placed in your bones. He reached for your hand and placed a kiss, chaste kiss to the back of it. You knew Cersei must have been dying on the inside at the exchange, frankly, so were you, “thank you, Oberyn.”

“I’ll see you soon,” he promised, making it a point to look directly at Cersei, who was fuming silently. If she had been a kettle, steam would have been exploding out of her ears, “I’ll find you.”

Just before you could turn to return to the kitchen and go about the rest of your daily duties, Oberyn trailed his fingers over your face, letting his gaze linger on your lips, “until later, dear Y/N.”

You turned to go back inside without another word, a bounce in your step at what had just happened. But just before you got inside, you heard him call after you, “I’m glad you enjoyed my berries, sweet girl!”

»»————-　♡　————-««

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makeste · 4 years

Text

BnHA Chapter 280: I Am Red Riot

Previously on BnHA: The pro heroes over at Gunga Mountain struggled against Gigantomachia and the League until finally Midnight was all, “fuck it, let’s just put the kids in charge.” Momo immediately got to work organizing a sophisticated counteroffensive involving an exploding swamp, a bunch of sedative cans, and a massive coordinated team attack. I gotta tell you guys, it’s really something to watch a large-scale group attack in which all of the team members are actually competent. I don’t know what Japan put in the water when all these sixteen-year-olds were growing up, but that shit has paid off big time, and basically the only reason Machia hasn’t gone down yet is because he cheated and was all “sneeze” and the kids all got blown away because they are little and because he is really, really big. Anyway so then Dabi set the forest on fire because he loves doing that, and the chapter ended with Mina using her Acid Man attack to make herself FUCKIN’ FIREPROOF so she could charge through the woods ready to save the day and stuff!

Today on BnHA: Mina launches herself straight at Machia like the beautiful corrosive wild child she is, but then everything goes to shit when she recognizes him from that one time she almost got murdered while giving a strange man directions. Just when it’s looking like she might get killed for real this time, KIRISHIMA SHOWS UP TO SAVE THE DAY AND SHOVES HER TO SAFETY AND IS ALL “BOTTOMS UP” AND HEAVES A LITERAL CAN OF WHOOPASS RIGHT IN MACHIA’S MOUTH. At this point the grown-ups are all “oh wow look at that, time for us to take over for you kids now, don’t worry we’ve got it all under control” because Oh Those Wacky Pros and all that, but at least Majestic finally deigns to show his face so that’s a plus! The chapter ends with us cutting back to the Jakku battle, where Tomura is curled up in a little ball all “curse you heroes, how dare you [checks notes] save people all the time”, which is a real take and a half. Anyway so things are looking up, which can only mean everyone is about to die. That’s how it works, right. Shit.

HOLY SHIT LOL

THIS IS MINA. SHE’S REALLY COOL AND SHE CAN MELT PEOPLE. um, the hell kind of tagline is that?? holy fucking shit?? “melt and succumb”?? IS THE SUCCUMB PART REALLY NECESSARY. IS THAT NOT ALREADY IMPLIED. it’s like saying “die and then perish”, which actually sounds really badass and I’m about to make it my new go-to threat actually so you know what never mind. where the fuck were we anyway

“IS EVERYONE SAFE” some absurdly bad-at-gauging-situations kid from class B is yelling while the forest is on fire and all the kids are recovering from having been catapulted fifty miles by King Dodongo’s windy yeet breath. of course they are safe, sweet child. of course everyone is absolutely fine, why the fuck would they possibly not be safe after something like that

KAMINARI NOOO MY POOR SWEET BABY

AT LEAST HE’S STILL CONSCIOUS ENOUGH TO MAKE STUPID JOKES. holy shit this baby got concussed to hell and back and then Machia turned him and the others into precipitation and he wasn’t in any kind of state to even try to land safely, I hope to god someone caught him

Sero is all “is there anyone still in range!” and damn, I like that he’s taking charge and trying to regain their momentum. he is so criminally underrated. I feel like he’s in the top six or seven of class 1-A kids who I would most trust to take charge. which is very high praise because that class has a lot of charge-taking kids

SPEAKING OF

it “probably” can’t get through her acid, she says. my god. sometimes the spirit of Plus Ultra just takes ahold of these kids and it’s like, I want to ruffle their hair proudly and then grab them by the shoulders and shake them vigorously because WHERE EVEN IS YOUR SELF-PRESERVATION WHY DO NONE OF YOU HAVE IT GODDAMMIT AIZAWA REALLY SHOULD HAVE EXPELLED YOU GUYS AFTER ALL

man. and yet I really do love this “be the one who can do it” stuff. what a heroic fucking attitude dfjfklks. I’ll just go put on my humongous sandwich board that reads GIANT FUCKING HYPOCRITE and go stand in the corner

damn it this week’s scan is annoyingly dark, it’s really hard to tell what’s going on but it looks like the pros are attacking Machia and the League at long last. way to go guys it only took you seven years but you finally hopped to it

MINA WHY IS THE ACID COMING OFF OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD. PUT IT BACK!!!

I KNOW SHE’S NOT GONNA DIE DAMMIT BUT AHHHHH AHHHHHH AHHHHHHHH

okay what the hell is up with these weird zen proverbs though

“your fear stricken heart”, “the shortest path”, what the fuck even is this. whose thoughts are these. normally these translations are honestly decent enough but I gotta say this time around I’m totally being thrown for a loop lmao

(ETA: FYI I’m only just now realizing that he was saying the shortest path to Master, as in Tomura, not “master” as in to master something fjkldjskf lol some delayed reading comprehension there. so basically he’s just bitching about how annoying these little “flies” are proving to be.)

JESUS CHRIST

okay is it just me, or is Gigantomachia suddenly showing intelligence in his eyes instead of mindless animal instinct the single most pants-shitting thing you’ve ever seen?!! holy shit. the way he just LOOKS at her out of nowhere all of a sudden?? holy fucking shit DO NOT HURT MT. LADY OH MY GOD I’M FREAKING THE FUCK OUT. AND DON’T YOU DARE HURT MINA EITHER!! JUST FUCKING DIE AND PERISH

but also though, is that recognition in Mina’s eyes?? because even though this dude is 80 feet tall now, her encounter with him a couple years back had to have been one of the more memorable experiences of her young life. damn I was wondering when this would finally come into play

OKAY YES THE NEXT PAGE IS A FLASHBACK OH SHIT

this has nothing to do with anything but Mina just has the prettiest hair, btw, and this “just woke up covered in acid” look is a particularly good one on her. it looks so soft and fluffy, like damn. this is like Shouto-hair-billowing-in-the-wind levels of pretty here

NOOOOO

oh my god holy shit?! putting her back in the school uniform to show the slip in her mentality is a PUNK MOVE, HORIKOSHI, and I respect the shit out of you for it you manipulative bastard. goddammit. bracing myself for the incoming wave of Mina feels... here they come... they’re a lot... let’s see if I can latch on to anything I can actually figure out how to describe in words

okay well here’s one, my respect for Mina’s bravery just went up like a thousand percent in this instant, because now we know this was actually such a traumatizing event for her that hearing Machia’s voice again years later immediately sent her into a full-blown flashback. she was that scared and yet she still stood up to him and didn’t hesitate. and now I’m remembering how her knees just buckled right afterwards, and just...

and this visual, though!! what a brutally effective way to show that in her mind she went right back to being that scared middle schooler again for a moment. god fucking damn. holy shit you guys is Kirishima fireproof because if he comes waltzing out of the woods next I don’t even know what I’m gonna do. lolo kids getting traumatized left and right this arc is fucking merciless

um eXCUSE ME!?!?!

YOU MOTHERFUCKING PIECE OF SHIT LET GO OF HER RIGHT NOW OR I AM GONNA LOSE IT!!

THAT’S NOT WHAT I MEANT!!

holy shit he could have fucking snapped her neck like that??! I don’t like this at ALL WHAT THE FUCK

OKAY SERIOUSLY

I’M GONNA NEED ANOTHER KID TO STEP IN HERE WITH A LAST MINUTE SAVE LIKE RIGHT THE FUCK NOW, OR I AM GOING TO THROW MY COMPUTER OFF A FUCKING CLIFF AND MOVE TO THE DESERT AND BECOME A HERMIT AND NEVER READ MANGA ON THE INTERNET AGAIN

OH THANK GOD

TODAY WE SPELL “REDEMPTION” K-I-R-I... ETC. THERE’S A LOT OF LETTERS BUT YOU GET THE DRIFT!!!

holy fucking shit y’all. I mean, it’s not like it came out of nowhere, like the setup could not have been more obvious, but let me assure you that none of the predictability lessened the actual impact of this moment in the SLIGHTEST. Horikoshi really wrote a flashback scene one hundred and thirty five chapters ago and planted it, watered it once a day, and patiently waited for THREE LONG YEARS until he could finally harvest the badass fruits of his labor in the midst of his most epic arc to date. I’m so fucking hyped I’ll even forgive him for sacrificing Mina’s big moment and having her get rescued, because it’s such a good reversal. he didn’t freeze up this time. he promised himself he’d never freeze again and he didn’t and he saved her and god fucking damn. anyways so now Machia is going to treat him like a fucking action figure though but he’s a solid little dude he can take it hopefully

NO WHAT IS THIS!!! STOP KILLING MY MOOD!!!

she better not be dead!! SHE BETTER NOT FUCKING BE DEAD I WILL RUN MY PC THROUGH A PAPER SHREDDER AND GO AND LIVE ALONE WITH MY FEELS ON A MOUNTAIN IN TIBET

CHINTETSU!!

well we know he’s fireproof. another callback at the least expected of times lmao

so Tetsu’s all “yeah Kirishima’s not really all that fireproof but he totally ran over here anyway to save you. oh wait that probably wasn’t very comforting of me to say.” maybe that’s why it seems like he might not have actually said it out loud, now that I’m reading this over again. good call Tetsu

ARE YOU STANDING UP AND CASUALLY STRETCHING OUT YOUR BACK

I CAN’T EVEN BELIEVE HOW MUCH I HATE THIS GUY RIGHT NOW. WE’RE REACHING LEVELS OF HATRED RESERVED FOR NAZIS AND PEOPLE WHO WALK TOO SLOWLY IN FRONT OF ME IN A GROUP SHOULDER TO SHOULDER INSTEAD OF SINGLE FILE SO I CAN PASS IN FRONT OF THEM. YOU’RE A FUCKING TOURIST IN NYC YOU PIECE OF SHIT

lmao he’s just dropping this random hero person and letting him fall to his doom wheeeeee

remind me to leave all of the League of Villains’ texts on read for the foreseeable future. goddamn. I still love you guys but also, fuck you so damn hard

OHO A LIL RED SCALY BOI ISN’T DONE YET!!

real talk, just between you and me, I’ll lower my voice so that Kirishima can’t hear. so uh. we all agree that even if Kiri is fireproof and squishproof, that little can of tranquilizer juice technically shouldn’t have been, right? but we’re all going to hush and pretend like it was anyway for the sake of not spoiling his big moment. even though I am crossing my arms and tapping my chin with my finger while doubtfully glancing to the side

anyway here he goes!

YEAH KIRI GO GETTIM [stage whisper] there it is, in his pocket. should’ve burned. we won’t discuss it

OH FOR FUCK’S

TOGA YOU LITTLE WIENER BUT WHAT’S THIS ABOUT “MY HALF” NOW????

DID HE GRAB MINA’S MID-AIR?? IS HE REALLY REACHING INTO HIS BACK POCKET AND FUCKING UNZIPPING IT RIGHT NOW WHILE HOLDING ON TO NOTHING AND PRESUMABLY FALLING THROUGH THE AIR. DID A LITTLE BIT OF OCHAKO’S QUIRK RUB OFF ON YOU OR WHAT

OH SNAP SON HE REALLY DID THE THING HOLY SHIT???

AND TOKAGE FLEW OVER AND SAVED HIM AND NOW TANKS ARE SHOOTING AT MACHIA, LMAO WHAT IS THIS. MOMO HOW MANY GUNS DID YOU MAKE

Shouji standing there trying to be useful any way he can. are eyeballs really that much more effective if you make them the size of tennis balls and hold them up above your head. legit question, I don’t really know how eyes work

okay after 45 seconds of googling this my impression is that no, they are not. well good on you for giving it the old college try anyway though Shouji

oH MY GODLKDLK?!?!

DID SHE SAY WHAT I THOUGHT SHE SAID, DID SHE SAY MAJESTIC, ARE WE GONNA SEE MASJKESLTKCI DSFLKJL

oh my god he really is the Magic Man dude??? TIME TO DUST OFF MY INVENTORY OF ADVENTURE TIME QUOTES

(ETA: AHH FATGUM AND GANG ORCA ARE THERE TOO YESSSS!)

“that’s enough depending on some interns” oh, okay. now that they’ve done all your work for you. I see, I see

so now Gigantomachia is LITERALLY UNHINGING HIS JAW I can’t fucking believe this dude you guys. everything he does is just like, ARE YOU SERIOUS

please go to sleep already. thanks to you I have my keyboard set to capslock as the default for the duration of this chapter

ARE YOU SERIOUS YOU FUCKING WAITED UNTIL MAGIC FUCKING MAN SHOWED UP TO TEACH US MAGICAL LIFE LESSONS AND NOW YOU’RE CUTTING BACK TO THE TOMURA FIGHT?? WHY DO WE KEEP LETTING THIS MAN GET AWAY WITH THIS

oh my god you guys they really fucking did it

I guess that Howitzer slash fire punch combo really was that potent huh

anyway so now Endeavor is standing there making a big speech instead of reaching into Tomura’s pocket and taking the bullets that he doesn’t know about and shooting him with one asap. dammit Endeavor

aaaaand Tomura is firing back with the wisdom of Shimura Fucking Kotaro of all people

well you sure convinced me. damn I don’t know what I was thinking. heroes suck you guys. how dare they help other people all the time

so now he’s all “PERIOD, EXCLAMATION POINT!!”

take that Endeavor. you heard the man. it’s not destruction without conviction, as god as his witness he will have you know it is destruction WITH conviction. something something the great sage Shimura “I hurt my family for absolutely no reason at all, fuck this ‘helping others’ bullshit” Kotaro. I hope you packed your textbooks because you just got SCHOOLED. I hope the person who ordered you signed up for delivery notifications because you just got SENT. I HOPE YOU LIKE CAPITALISM BECAUSE YOU JUST GOT OWNED. I HOPE YOU CHOSE PAPER AND NOT SCISSORS BECAUSE YOU JUST GOT ROCKED

what an absolutely, unreservedly bizarre place to end the chapter lol. we’re really just done with this week, just like that. Majestic showed up and Gigantomachia opened his chin like a garage door and Tomura is all “you may have won the battle but you suck” while he buys time for Aizawa to suddenly sneeze or something so he can make his terrible comeback and continue Horikoshi’s Traumatize Every Kid in Class 1-A 2020 campaign. what an arc this is my friends. what an arc

#bnha 280 #ashido mina #kirishima eijirou #gigantomachia #shigaraki tomura #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha #I didn't even notice the extra page on readheroaca until I was getting ready to click 'post' lol #something about ochako mistaking a real orca for their friendly teacher #resulting in a hilarious case of mistaken identity #I have no idea what this page is about or what it is doing there #but at this point 'because 2020' seems like a reasonable explanation for just about anything tbh

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blackmissfrizzle · 4 years

Text

No One Has To Know- Part 2

Part 1

Pairing: Angel Reyes x black!reader

Summary: The reader gets a real graduation party.

Warnings: Smut

A/N: I finally got my Girls in the Hood inspired fic out! I hope yall enjoy!

Now this was a party. Your best friend, Bryce surprised you with a graduation party the pool party edition. The only thing missing was your boyfriend and his friends. They had club business to attend to that had them running late.

Aisha, a fellow graduate was complaining about how she didn’t know how to ride dick, so you gladly volunteered to show her. On que, Shake That Monkey came on and you laid Aisha on the lounge chair. Getting on top of her you began twerking on her.

Bounce that ass up and down to the floor

Shake that shit till you can't no more

Twerk that monkey, lemme see you get low

Freak that nigga till your shit get sore

Too busy twerking on your friend, you didn’t notice that Angel and his friends arrived. Angel couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Your ass on display, eating up your bikini bottoms, moving up and down to the beat. You were definitely riding him later on tonight.

“FUCK IT UP!” You heard Letty’s voice cheer you on.

Turning around you saw the young girl, surprised at how she got there. Her dad beat you to the punch to questioning her. “Leticia, what the fuck are you doing here?!”

You couldn’t pay too much attention to the argument because suddenly you were picked up from Aisha.

“Where’s the clothes at, mi dulce?” Angel asked, biting your ear. There were too many eyes on his girl. He’ll pull his gun if he had to, he just had to do it secretly to keep the mood right.

“This is a pool party, Angelito. Clothes are unnecessary. In fact, you got too many clothes on.” You turned to tug at the ends of his kutte.

“It’s because I knew you wouldn’t be able to keep your hands to yourself.” Angel joked, sliding his hand to grab your ass.

Bryce walked past the two of you and forced drinks into both of y’alls hands. Apparently, you were too sober for her. Just as you were about to comment about how good the drinks were your song came on. You and Bryce ran towards each other, hyping the other up as you screamed the lyrics together.

Fuck bein' good, I'm a bad bitch (Ah)

I'm sick of motherfuckers tryna tell me how to live (Fuck y'all))

Angel stood behind and just watched. He loved just watching you be carefree. The pressure of being the perfect daughter not weighing on you.

Jumping in Angel’s face you began singing the lyrics towards him, dancing along to the song.

In the mall with him, I'ma have a ball with him (Yeah, yeah, woah)

Somebody call Rihanna, I'ma buy some drawers with him

He fuckin' with Thee Stallion 'cause he into wild women (He love wild women)

Put them legs on his head, now he love tall women (Yeah, yeah, ah)

You'll never catch me callin' these niggas daddy (Nope)

Angel smacked your ass as a warning to tell you to quit your shit. On multiple occasions you’ve called him daddy and he wasn’t about to let you act like you didn’t just because you were singing some lyrics.

The little smack you got, prompted you to twerk on Angel. You never really had this opportunity before and now that you can you’re loving it. You wanted to show off Angel as your man.

I'm a hot girl, I do hot shit (I do hot shit)

Spend his income on my outfit (On my outfit)

I don't text quick 'cause I ain't thirsty (I ain't thirsty)

These bitches mad, mad, they wanna hurt me (Ah, ah)

While sipping on your drink, you looked over your shoulder all innocently like you weren’t just making your ass clap against Angel’s erection.

Yeah, he call me Patty Cake 'cause the way that ass shake (Yeah, yeah, ass shake)

I'ma make him eat me out while I'm watchin' anime (Wow, wow, anime)

Pussy like a Wild Fox, lookin' for a Sasuke (Yeah, yeah, ayy, yeah)

The friction of his clothes and you twerking on him made Angel’s hard on unbearable for him. He had to get a little taste to hold him over for the rest of the party. Picking you up he led you into the house.

“Angel! Where are we going?” You wrapped your arms around his neck to secure yourself.

“Somewhere I can watch that ass shake on my dick.” Angel found the nearest bathroom and set you down on the counter.

Kneeling before you he ran his nose against your core, making you wetter than you already were.

Tugging on his hair, you tilted his head so he could look at you. “I thought you wanted to see my ass shake?”

Untying your bottoms, Angel stuck two ring adorned fingers inside of you. “Yeah, I do but first I wanna feel your legs wrapped around my head. Is that okay with you, baby?”

“Fuck yes,” you moaned, enjoying the feel of Angel’s fingers stretching you out.

There was no teasing. Angel dived in, eating your pussy like it was his last meal. He knew how to get you to a quick orgasm, and he was pulling out all the stops to get you there.

And sure, you love the head he was giving you, but right now you wanted to cum all on his dick. “Baby please I need you inside of me.” You tried to push away from him, but instead he wrapped his arm around your waist tightly and pulled you closer to him.

Angel’s tongue was expertly switching between flicking and sucking on your clit while fucking you with his fingers. Once he applied more pressure to your clit and angling his fingers, you reached your peak, beating on his back from how explosive the orgasm was.

Standing up to his full height, his beard and lips glistened from your juices. Crooking your finger, you beckoned Angel to bend down so you could get a tiny taste. The taste of your essence mix with Angel was heavenly like none other.

While kissing him, you unbuckled his jeans and pulled them down with his boxer briefs just far enough for his cock to spring out. You only got a couple of strokes in before Angel stopped you.

“Who am I?” He asked, his hand around your throat, lips ghosting over yours, and dick a half an inch away from sheathing itself inside of you.

“Daddy,” you whimpered, trying to scoot closer to his dick.

Angel lightly slapped your face. “Don’t forget it and don’t you say something stupid like that again. I don’t give a fuck even if it’s in a song.” Angel referenced to your sing along to Megan.

“Yes Daddy.” Normally you would be a bratty little shit, but Angel fucking you was the only thing you could focus on.

After slipping on a condom and turning you to face the mirror, Angel rammed into, making you cum on the spot. He rested his head on your shoulder and kissed it right before he bit it. “Make a fucking doctor’s appointment and get on that birth control, because after today you’re only gonna be coming on my cock with nothing between us. Understand?”

You nodded your head in agreement. Angel didn’t care that you didn’t give him a verbal answer, he was too caught up in how tight you felt around him.

“Shit, I don’t care if you don’t get on birth control. I could fill you up and you can have my babies. Do you wanna have my babies, mi alma?” Angel whispered against your ear, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine.

“Fuck yes, Daddy.” You looked back at him and he saw the fire in your eyes. He knew right now you would let him rip the condom off and shoot all up inside of you. The selfish bastard in him wanted to, but he remembered that you’re still young and that y’all had plenty of time to make babies later, so he kept the condom on.

Angel grabbed you around the neck and flushed your back against his chest. “Congratulations, graduate. I fuckin’ love you, you know that, right?” He asked, his lips peppering down your cheek.

Reaching behind you palmed his face. “I do, Angel. I love you too.” The sounds of your sex contradicted the softness of your proclamation of love, but soon the softness was replaced with roughness as Angel ordered you to cum with him.

Bishop was pissed and nervous. Him along with Taza and Hank came to the party to drop off a present for you. He didn’t expect to hear you and Angel having sex and now he wanted to rip Angel’s head from his shoulders.

“Calmese,” Hank advised his friend and president.

“I know in my head that she’s grown, and I can’t tell her anything, but hearing Angel fucking defiling my little girl is driving me crazy.” Bishop had to be careful holding the gift. He was so agitated he almost wrinkled the bag.

Taza slapped him on the back. “It’s ok. You’re going through 24 years worth of parenting in less than a month.”

“What if she doesn’t like it?” Bishop asked, now worried about the present instead of you and Angel. Both Hank and Taza assured to their friend that you would love your gift. It would no doubt become useful and it had a secret personal touch to it.

Seeing the older Mayans at the party, you drugged Angel along to say hi. “Hey, guys! Thank you for coming.” You hugged each man.

“We’re just dropping by. This is a little too young for us.” Bishop joked, fiddling with the bag in his hand. “Anyway, this is for you.”

Eagerly, you took the bag from him. You weren’t expecting a gift from him. Removing the tissue paper, you discovered your own helmet. Even though you were scared to ride Angel’s bike, you knew one day you would, and you would need a helmet of your own.

Jumping into Bishop’s arms you thanked him profusely.

To have his daughter in his arms warmed his heart even if she didn’t know the truth. “You’re welcome, sweetheart.”

Angel couldn’t hold back the tinge of jealousy. Of all the girlfriends the Mayans ever had, none of them ever gotten a gift from Bishop, especially a gift that’s meant to be given from a boyfriend.

“Angel, can I talk to you for a bit?” Bishop asked, not even waiting for Angel to agree before walking off.

Once they were ducked off in a corner away from everyone else Angel spoke up. “What’s up, prez?”

In full and president authoritarian mode, Bishop warned Angel. “Respect her, you understand me? Keep your dirty shit in private.”

What the fuck was this, Angel thought. The only time Bishop gave any of them shit about screwing around was when they were in the clubhouse bathroom and someone needed to use it. Other than that it was jokes all around. Did this have something to do with you being the mayor’s daughter?

Angel’s rebuttal died on his tongue when he saw Bishop’s face. There was no arguing with him about this at all. “Got it, prez.” Angel nodded his head in agreement and then left in search of you, secretly wondering if his president had a thing for his girl.

Tags: @angrythingstarlight @briannab1234 @starrynite7114 @marvelmaree @thickemadame @chaneajoyyy @woahitslucyylu

#black!reader #angel reyes #angel reyes x reader #angel reyes x black!reader #mayans mc #mayans mc fandom #mayans mc fanfic #angel reyes fanfic #bishop losa #frizzlefic #frizzlesfic #frizzlewrites

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justallamaimaginingthings · 4 years

Text

Running In Circles {Klaus Hargreeves x Reader}

Request: "I'd like to request an angsty smut of Klaus x reader. 71, 1 from the angst/fluff prompt list. Also the way I got excited when I saw your requests are open, the T H I R S T do be real lol Anyway, I REALLY love your writings and thanks for doing this ❤️✨" by @pythonstarlet

Prompts: 1:"I love you, please don’t go", 71:"You've been drinking tonight, haven't you?"

Words: 3.500ish II TUA Masterlist

A/n: Okay, Klaus is the switch of the century, Y’all fight me on this. Thanks for requesting and I really hope this lives up to your expectaions!!Don’t hesitate to leave a comment and/or request anything else that’s on your mind ❤️

“We're always running in circles

Forever chasing a dream

As if everything that we long for

Is not as far as it seems”

-Asking Alexandria

The night had been as peaceful as it could get and Y/n could not be happier to finally have a chance to rest after an exhausting day at work. Having been too preoccupied by your favorite TV series playing, you hadn’t even realized it was near 3 am until a persistent knock on the door snapped you back to reality. You got up, slowly making your way towards the door as a nagging feeling of worry settled on you.

If you wanted to be honest, you'd admit that you were half expecting to face a badly injured Diego, asking you to patch him up after one of his vigilante jobs gone wrong. However, the sight you came face to face with the moment the door opened was completely different. Klaus was leaning on the wall, barely able to hold himself up as he held onto the doorframe in a failed attempt to keep his balance. It took him a moment, but when he finally looked up, you could see his eyes were bloodshot red and there was a bleeding cut on his cheek.

"Can I crash here for the night?" He slurred, leaning forward as the smell of alcohol hit you. There were countless thoughts running through your mind, countless questions that needed to be asked. However it was evident that Klaus was in no state to answer any of them.

Without a word, you helped him to the couch as he put a hand on your shoulder in order to stabilize himself. Only then did you realize his whole body was trembling. Placing a hand on his forehead, you felt him burning up as if he had a fever and a worried sigh left your lips. He sank on the couch and you sat down next to him, trying to get him to look at you. Pushing aside the immerse panic caused by the thought he might have OD'ed again, you tried to check his pulse when his hand came to your wrist, halting your movement.

"I'm fine" He said, trying to brush off the concerned look you gave him.

"Clearly you're not. You've been drinking tonight, haven't you?" You asked in what you hoped to be a steady tone. To say that seeing him in that state pained you would be an understatement. It might have been far from the first time something similar had happened but that only seemed to make it worse.

"Just a little. Or a lot" He answered and burst out laughing like it was the funniest thing in the world. The laugh was short lived, fading away the moment his eyes met yours. No matter how hard you tried, there was no way you could hide your emotions, fear and disappointment evident in your expression.

"I thought you were actually going to try this time, you promised you were going to try this time. What happened?" You asked. It had only been two days since you had picked him up from the rehabilitation center, two days since he had looked at you and promised that time was going to be different.

"What always happens" He replied simply. The past weeks spent in rehab had been filled by nothing but crushing self doubt and horrifying visions and there was only so much he could handle. Knowing how those conversations usually went, he wanted nothing more than to leave things as they were and fall sleep, but he couldn't. If anything he owned you some explanation. "I thought I could do this, but I can't. I needed to get them out of my head"

"And why didn't you call? You were supposed to call when it got bad and I was supposed to help" You reminded him softly, allowing the familiar blue glimmer of your powers to shine in your palms. A year after you had moved in the Academy, your powers had significantly grown and you had found out that you were actually able to relieve others of any physical pain, or more accurately absorb it, even if it came with the cost.

"We both know what that thing does to you, and I'm done hurting you" He replied, turning to look at you with intensity you had never seen in his eyes before.

"And what the fuck do you think standing by and watching you slowly killing yourself does to me?" You snapped at him, voice more harsh than you intended as you stood up from the couch. Feeling frustration threatening to consume you, you paced around trying to calm down as much as possible. Lashing out at him was only going to make things harder than they already were.

"Oh don't be so dramatic. Besides, sobriety is so overrated, it's not even worth it" I'm not worth it. He tried to sound careless, but it came out strained and he cringed at the cracking of his voice. Turning around, you crouched in front of him so that your eyes were on the same level. You let out a deep breath before taking his hands in yours and squeezing gently in an effort to make him focus on what you were going to say.

"For the first time in your life I need you to actually listen to me. I know you, Klaus Hargreeves. I know that despite the selfish act you play, deep down you're kind and caring. I know you're a stubborn prick that can achieve anything you put your mind on. And I know you're the best thing that's ever happened to me. So don’t doubt for a second that I'd do anything to help you. All I need is for you to let me do this, okay?" By the time you were done talking, tears had gathered on the corners of his eyes, and all he could do was nod, not trusting his voice. There were so many things he wanted to say, but even the thought of them terrified him. You shot him a sad smile before the bruise on his face caught your attention one more.

Watching you getting up, he buried his head in the pillows, regretting the moment he decided to ask for your help. If it was one thing he despised more than the ghosts in his head that was seeing you disappointed and even worse hurt, especially when he knew he was the one that had caused it. Still, after being let down time after time, you hadn't turn your back at him. You were still there after all the pain he had caused you and he hated himself for that. He knew he should either get his shit together and become the person you believed him to be or let you go and spare you the misery his life was, but he was too weak.

The truth Klaus had come to realize was that he couldn’t live without you. The only moments of happiness he could remember had been spent with you. From the beginning you had been his anchor, helping him through the hell his powers had put him through. You were the only person who could push the voices away, and he could never forget the nights he had fallen asleep next to you. As if that wasn't enough he was in love with you, had been for as long as he could remember knowing you, and the thought that he wasn't good enough for you was killing him.

When you came back, you sat back down on the couch and started gently pressing the towel on his cut, getting the blood away. Without noticing, you placed a hand on his other cheek to keep him steady, sending an electrifying chill to course through him. Your touch always had the same effect on him, sending him on a high unlike any other he had witnessed.

"This may sting a little" You warned, pouring some disinfectant on the towel.

"Right now you could punch me and I wouldn't feel a damn thing" He replied. And I'd deserve it.

While you worked on the cut your eyes wondered to his, remembering how they used to spark with mischief and joy when the two of you playfully messed around. You could spend hours drowning in his emerald eyes, feeling almost hypnotized by the variety of emotions hidden in them. No matter how much he had changed, hiding his true self behind pills and booze, his eyes remained the same reminding you of the Klaus you used to know, the Klaus you had fallen in love with years ago and never had the guts to say it.

When you were done cleaning the wound, you let your fingers dance up to his face while blue sparks erupted from them. Your thumb traced his cheekbone and he leaned into your touch as he felt the familiar tingle of your powers above his cheek, until there was nothing left from the once bleeding cut. For a moment the veins on your arm turned black, a clear sign that the wound had successfully healed. You were about to pull your hand away when he wrapped his fingers around your wrist. He left a couple soft kisses against your palm, surprising the both of you.

"Klaus…" His name falls from your lips in a small whisper that's both a warning and a plea. You're warning him to stop this before it's too late and at the same time begging him to keep going because you know that whatever is going on between the two of you is real and you've never felt that way before in your life. The two of you have danced around the lines of friendship so many times, whether it was drunken one night stands or falling asleep curled into each other, that you simply can’t go back to being friends but at the same time can't find the strength to surrender to your feelings.

He doesn’t know if it’s the alcohol or the shock from your words that still linger on his mind, but something inside him is begging him to kiss you and he gives in. He leans in, capturing your lips as his hand makes its way to the back of your neck, guiding you closer to him. The blissful feeling of finally being able to touch him sends a shiver down your spine. Using his grip on your wrist, he pulls you closer and following his lead you straddle his waist ending up sitting on his lap. Your hands roam around his chest, marveling at the way his lean muscles tense under your touch and you couldn’t be more thankful for the v-neck of the shirt he's wearing.

The need for oxygen becomes too much and you break apart, panting, foreheads pressed together and eyes still fluttered close. A meaningful silence befalls the two of you his hands refuse to loosen their grip on your waist, even when you slightly leans back to look at him. This is all you've ever wanted but still there's something wrong about it. His warm breath is hitting your face and you can smell the alcohol there. That's when it hits you. The realization feels like the bittersweet sense of déjà vu that crushes you when you visit a placed you used to call home. You've been through this too many times before and you know how this ends. You will spend the night in the heat of passion and for a while you'll believe there's a chance that this means more to him than just sex, only for you to wake up alone again.

"What are we doing?" You ask, cursing your traitorous body for the breathlessness of your tone. He tilts his head slightly, shooting you a confused look. "Klaus, we're just running in circles. It's the same story, repeating itself and it only ends up hurting both of us" It's the hardest thing you'll ever have to do, but you force yourself to follow through, as you slowly untangle yourself from him.

"No, not this time" He rushes to explain causing a humorless chuckle from you.

"How is tonight any different?" You ask, but the question is met with nothing but silence. The way he's looking at you is practically begging you to stay. He knows it's a hopeless attempt, he's screwed this up so many times he doubts there's any way it can be fixed, but he has to try, he owns it to the both of you. There is only one way to make it right and it scares him to death, but his choices are running out. He takes a deep breath, trying to remain collected as he prepares for what is to follow. You have gotten up and halfway to your bedroom when you hear him talk.

"Because tonight I'm telling the truth. Look, Y/n I-" He struggles to find the right words and the way you're watching him, taking in his every movement makes it even harder. His mind is still a little fuzzy from the alcohol, and even though the high is wearing off, the fact that just moments ago he was kissing you makes it almost impossible to think straight. "The nights I've spend with you have been great, but so is every moment by your side. I don't know how you put up with me even after I fucked up again and again, but that's just another proof of how beautiful a person you are. I'm a mess, but you make me want to be better. For this and for so much more, I love you. I've loved you for longer than I can remember and I-I need you here. Please don't go…"

You can barely precede the words that come out of his mouth, having wished for them so many times you can't believe it is actually happening. There's a hint of desperation lacing his voice and it's enough to make you realize he's telling the truth.

"And why did you run?" It's nothing more than a whisper, but he hears it. He pushes himself off the couch and walks up to you.

"Because I'm a fucking coward. The way you make me feel, it scared me more than I can explain. I was afraid I would end up hurting you or losing you. I know I don’t deserve you, but I'm ready to try, if you'll have me"

You cup the side of his face with your hand, softly caressing his cheek and he almost stops breathing when you leave a tender kiss on the corner of his lips. He's looking at you so lovingly it causes your heart to skip a bit. "I love you. I've always loved you and always will"

And then he's kissing you and it feels like heaven. It's different from any other kiss you've had, slower and more sensual, but just as hungry. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you flush against his chest and the gasp you make is all the invitation he needs to deepen the kiss. While your tongues fight for dominance you tangle your fingers in his hair, tugging slightly which elicits a throaty groan from his lips. The grip on your waist becomes even tighter, sure to leave a bruise, but the only thing that matters to you is the way his lips move against yours in a fervent way that makes your whole body tingle.

The two of you stumble backwards to the bedroom, not once breaking contact, as clothes start flying off. You've already managed to unbutton the rest of his shirt and he shrugs it off, throwing it on the floor. Kicking the bedroom door open, he backs you up until your knees hit the bed. Only then does the kiss break and he makes a quick work of disposing your tank top and pants, leaving you on nothing but a flimsy set of black underwear. Your hand fumbles with the buckle of his belt until it finally gives out with a small click.

Next thing you know, you're being pushed back into the bed and his lips return to your neck, kissing and sucking his way down your chest and you can't hold back a moan of pleasure when he gently bites on your sweet spot. Your hips involuntary lift from the mattress to grind against his, granting the both of you some much desired friction and delighting in the sharp gasp that escapes him. Taking the chance, you use his distraction to flip him on his back as you straddle his waist.

You lean in for another kiss full of urgency and burning passion, and you allow yourself to get lost in his touch. Klaus lets his hand get tangled in your hair, guiding the movement of your lips and he can feel his erection straining against the unforgiving leather of his pants. Finally the two of you break apart and he chases your lips as you slowly inch away so that you can have a better look at him. The way he's splayed out on the bed, hair already a mess and lips swollen, makes him look positively ravishing and you can’t help the shiver that runs down your spine when you notice his lust fueled gaze flick to your lips.

By that time, your heart is beating like crazy and your skin feels like it was on fire. You want him then and there, but the desperation in his eyes prompts you to put on a show you'll both enjoy. Grabbing his wrist, you place both of his hand above his head, holding them there as you give him a mischievous smirk.

"Daring, aren't we?" He muses breathlessly but the next words are caught on his throat as you start leaving open mouthed kisses down the column of his neck. Reaching his collarbone, you focus your attention there, sucking and biting on the sensitive skin, sure to leave a mark, but judging from the sinful sounds that fall from his lips this is the last thing on his mind. You continue your journey down his chest, making sure not to leave an inch of skin unattended to, feeling the way his muscles tense under your touch.

Your feather light touch reaches slide over his stomach, only to ghost over the tent in his pants causing him to let out a pleading whimper. Finally giving in, you get rid of his leather pants and underwear as he eagerly lifts his hips to help. You waste no time, before your tongue swirls around his tip, tasting the salty precum that's gathered there. His eyes shut close and he throws his head back in pleasure as you wrap your lips around his throbbing dick.

The moan that he lets out sends waves of desire through your body and he grips the headboard so tight his knuckles turn white. You bobble your head up and down his shaft, careful to keep your movements tantalizingly slow, sending a shudder to run through his entire body. He thrusts deeper into your mouth, getting increasingly desperate and you use a hand to hold his hips down before leaning back to look at him.

"We have all night, why the rush?" You whisper smirking, even though you can't deny the fact that you're also growing impatient.

"Don't tease me, love" He says huskily right before flipping you over so that he's straddling you. He crashes his lips on yours and by the intensity of the kiss you know the teasing is done.

The night that follows is filled by nothing but sinful pleasure and burning passion and by the time the two of you fall back into the mattress, you're completely spent. You snuggle up against his chest, allowing the rhythmic beating of his heart to lull you to sleep. Klaus stays awake for a while longer, arms wrapped around you tightly as he softly traces patterns on your back. He leaves a small kiss on your forehead and in a half asleep response your move closer to him, making his heart flood with warmth. He still finds it unbelievable that you reciprocate his feelings and neither of you know how this is going to end up, but for the first time in his life the thought of something steady doesn't scare him. That's the last thing that goes through his mind before he finally dozes off, holding you close and determined never to let you go again.

BONUS: THE GIF THAT STARTED IT ALL AND WILL PROBABLY GIVE ME A HEART ATTACK (you won’t see me complaining tho, if that’s how I go, that’s how I go)

#tua klaus #tua #tua imagine #tua x reader #tua x you #klaus hargreeves #klaus hargreeves x reader #klaus hargreeves imagine #klaus hargreeves x you #klaus hargreeves smut #tua smut

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percywinchester27 · 3 years

Text

A lot like ‘Us’ (Part-22)

Word count: 5.2K

Pairing: Sam X Reader AU

Warnings: Anxiety, feels, light flirting?

Series Summary: Y/N Y/L/N is eager and honestly, still in awe that she managed to get herself an acceptance from Stanford Law School. On the face of it, her life seems as put together, mysterious and independent as one might hope for. On the insides, she carries the burden of past that haunts her till date. Seemingly, she’d left it all behind; that is until she sets foot in the class of the Law School’s youngest, most promising professor.

A/N: Hey peeps, just wanted to thank you guys for all the love. Y’all are awesome! <3

The story employs two different timelines. The present timeline for the story takes place in 2014. Please let me know what you guys think :)

Beta: @deanssweetheart23. Thank you, babe <3

A lot like ‘Us’ masterlist

“Jesus, kid! Don’t you ever pull that one on me again, okay?”

Max was trying to escape his embrace, but Sam didn’t budge. His heart was still beating out a disjointed rhythm.

“I didn’t do anything!” Max protested.

Alex was quick to interject. “You ran out on me.”

Max turned in the circle of his arms glaring at Alex. “Only because you fell asleep.”

Alex’s face got all red and she sneaked a nervous glance at Sam.

“She’s got school in the morning,” Sam told Max. “She was tired. That doesn’t mean you can run out on her.”

“This isn’t the first time either,” Alex put in, emboldened by Sam’s support. “He ran to her on Sunday as well.”

“What’s this, Max?” Sam didn’t want to make his voice stern, but the fear wasn’t helping. Alex had called him towards the end of his meeting to tell him she couldn’t find Max. Sam’s heart had dropped through the ground at the mere thought. By the time he could ask Chase to pull out his car- Sam’s was still parked in the campus- a second call from Alex had already informed him that Max was back and okay. But Sam couldn’t stay put. He’d made Chase drive him back anyway.

“She’s my friend.” Max muttered.

“You’ve only met her twice!” Alex accused.

Max threw Alex a betrayed look, mumbling to himself.

Sam rubbed his face with his hand. “What’s happening?”

Alex started to say something, but Max interjected. “I want to tell him!”

“Alright, go on.”

Max told him about a new friend he’d made in one of the buildings along the playground, and that he was going to see her on Monday again.

Sam shot a look at Alex to confirm and she nodded encouragingly. Falling asleep on the watch might have been a one time thing, otherwise Alex was both smart and thorough. She wouldn’t have agreed to anything that wasn’t safe for Max.

“I can go, right?”

“Only if you promise to never go out by yourself.”

Max made an excited sound. “Yes!”

“Okay, enough of this moping,” Chase announced. He had been standing uncharacteristically quiet, watching the drama unfold. “Alex gets to sleep, Max gets his date and Sam gets to chill. What does Chase get?”

Sam turned to him. “What do you want?”

“Food. I want food.”

Alex waved to Max, who didn’t acknowledge it. He was still mad about ratting him out. “Bye, Sam. Bye, Mr. Lincoln.”

Sam nodded, and Chase waved at her cheerfully.

Sam let go of Max, not really looking him in the eyes, lest he should sense just how freaked out Sam was. That’s not what kids should see in their parents- the fear of being incompetant. Sam had learned as much from Dean. His older brother had been absolutely confident in every decision he’d made for Sam. It was only in the later years that Sam realised how freaked out Dean must have been attempting to raise Sam, even with Bobby and Karen’s help. They were all always second guessing themselves.

The next hour was spent on a call with Stacey. She debriefed Sam about the end of the meeting, promising to forward the transcripts after she was done with editing them. He was lucky to have found someone as efficient as her. She was a blessing. Sam appreciated that her first words were of concern for Max. Stacey had designed Sam’s schedule in such a foolproof manner that Max was never neglected. He couldn’t have been more grateful. To think that they had started their work relationship disliking each other.

Sam took his time in the shower, letting the hot water wash away some of his anxiety. Just the very thought of losing Max was enough to decapitate him. Later, as he diced the bell-peppers, his eyes kept going to the sofa where Max was playing connect four with Chase, who was sucking bigtime. It was something they did at least once a week. Right now, Chase was going on at length about how awesome the cookies were, that he was stealing from a jar. Sam didn’t remember buying any cookies at all.

A sting in his finger made him hiss. Looking down, he saw blood spreading into the bell-pepper pieces and the surface of the chopping board.

The next minute small hands were taking his finger, blowing on the cut and guiding him towards the sink.

“You never pay attention!” Max admonished.

“What do you care?” Sam muttered, washing his finger under the steady stream. The cut wasn’t too deep. “It’s not like you don’t love worrying me.”

Max huffed. “You’re being melodramatic.”

“No, I’m not. Seriously, Max, do you want me to stop going to work? How am I supposed to concentrate on anything if you’re going to be a flight risk?”

“I wasn't running away from home, okay? I just went to see my friend.”

Sam knew he was overreacting but what else was there to do? Alex had sounded so frantic on the phone.

“Who’s this girl anyway?” Sam eyed his son, turning off the tap. “Is it Lucy from school?”

“Ewww nooooo!” Max cringed, making a face. “I don’t like Lucy!”

“Of course you don’t,” Sam grinned. He added more seriously, “Don’t push Alex, okay? She might decide to not babysit you anymore.”

“It’s your fault really,” Max shrugged. Chase who had gone to retrieve the first aid box- it was ridiculous he even knew where that was in the house- handed Sam a bandaid.

Sam gave Max an incredulous look. “How is any of this my fault?”

“If you got me a mom, we wouldn’t need a babysitter!”

Sam barely even had the time to pick his jaw up when Chase started howling with laughter. He raised his hand and Max high-fived him.

“Wha- what?” He spluttered. “Where’s this coming from?”

“I told you, you had this coming, Samuel,” Chase chuckled, superior. “Even your boy seems to be scoring more dates here. And look at the little daredevil sneaking out to get em. What’re you waiting for? Divine intervention?” He lowered his voice just for Sam’s ears. “Even Steve from HR gets laid more than you. And he smells like Kleenex!”

Sam glared at his friend. “That’s it. Get out of my house! I’m not responsible for feeding you.”

“Now, now,” Chase placated, putting his hands on either side of Sam’s shoulders from behind and giving them a squeeze. “Look at these muscles. Such a waste to not have beautiful arms draped around them.”

“Well, there’s always you!”

Chase huffed, drawing back. “You don’t pay me any attention.”

Max giggled.

Sam turned to his son. “Max, having a mom doesn’t mean you won’t have a babysitter. Working mothers are a thing!”

“He’ll, at least, have quality food,” Chase put in. “All you feed him is vegetables.”

“You know what? I’m done with the both of you. Go back to that game you were playing.”

“No,” Chase shook his head. “This is more fun. Why aren’t you asking Jess out?”

“You know why.” Sam wasn’t as patient this time as he had been the last ten times, since Chase had been badgering him every damn minute. “Go wash your hands, Max. And help Uncle Chase set up the table.”

Max knew he was being dismissed, so he made a whole show of slowly dragging himself from the kitchen counter and heading upstairs at the speed of a snail. Once he was surely out of earshot, Sam hissed at his friend. “Drop it, Chase! You know it’s not going to happen. Besides, the last time was embarrassing enough. I don’t know how to face her.”

Chase rolled his eyes. “She’s a grown ass woman and super hot. You’re lucky she’s into you,” He paused, the sly grin dancing in his eyes. “That was like three or four years ago. She must be long past it.”

“I sure hope so.”

“I don’t know how else to convince you,” Chase sighed, dropping all the teasing at once. “Jess is successful, beautiful and so damn smart. If a girl like that can’t move you, I don’t know what else to do for you.”

“You can always give up.”

“No chance.” Chase ran his fingers through his hair. “I just keep trying to understand what’s holding you back.”

It was Sam’s turn to sigh. “I’m married.”

“No, you’re not!” Chase argued, with more emotion than Sam had expected, enough to make him face his friend. “This isn’t marriage, Sam. This is you holding on to something dead with both your hands. Let go before your hands start decaying.”

“Don’t say that.” The pain in his own voice depressed Sam.

Chase grimaced. “What would I not give to see this girl! Who is she? Some supermodel? Is she gilded out of diamonds or something?”

It was no point going in circles with Chase over this. Sam knew from years of experience that he wouldn’t give up.

“What was her name again?”

“It’s-” Sam’s gaze shifted to the base of the staircase and found Max standing there, face blank. “We’ll talk later,” Sam whispered, wondering how much Max had heard.

The dinner was a quiet affair. Sam knew it wasn’t so because Chase and Max were appreciating the sensory overload of how amazing his stir fry was. Chase was sulking and Max was lost in thought. After Chase had left for the night, Sam set to cleaning the kitchen. Max came to sit by him on the island counter, picking out a cookie from the jar Chase had abandoned.

“How was your day?” Max asked and despite himself Sam chuckled. There was something so odd about the question coming out of a six and a half year old.

“T’was alright,” Sam told him. Most of it had been very boring, except for the evening scare and the morning lecture in which he was mere feet away from Y/N, every cell in his body hyper aware of the fact that she was there. It was pathetic and Sam knew it. “I do have a hearing tomorrow. I think we’ll win this one.”

“What’s it about?”

“Property fraud. Very interesting.”

Wiping the kitchen top, and hanging the rag on the hook over the sink, Sam came to sit by his son. “How was your day?”

“Very interesting.” Max smiled, but didn’t elaborate. Not wanting to flare up his earlier irritation, Sam didn’t ask him for the details either. Instead, he dipped his hand in the jar and drew out a Choco chip cookie.

“Is it because of me that you don’t go out on dates?”

Max’s voice was small, diminished even and it made Sam draw in a quick breath.

“Max!” He exhaled. “Why would you say that?”

His boy wriggled his fingers. “I don’t know. Uncle Chase is right. You don’t have any fun. I know it’s because you have to spend all your free time with me.”

“You don’t mean that,” Sam stated outright, shaking his head. “I know you don’t because not one second of the time spent with you has been a sacrifice. You’re my son. You’ve got to know that I would do anything for you.”

“Except get me a mom.”

“Mom’s don’t grow on trees or fall out skies, Max.” Sam reasoned trying to keep the exasperation out of his voice. “And don’t you ever say that I don’t have fun in life. We have fun, don’t we? I love that and wouldn’t change it for any girl in the world.”

“Not even for Y/N?”

Sam faltered, aghast. Maybe it was because he was thinking about Y/N so much already, or because Max didn’t usually bring her up, but somewhere inside him there was a nagging feeling that he was missing something here. Max’s question was natural in the context of the conversation… but the very conversation felt out of context. Max knew very well what he meant to Sam, and even if a part of him thought that Sam was sacrificing for his sake- Sam fervently wished that wasn’t the case- the Max he knew would never bring it up this conversationally.

So he answered with complete conviction. “No. Not even for Y/N.”

“And you get this through your head, Max,” he continued, voice pained despite his efforts. “You and I are already a complete family. I love you with everything that I have. So long as we are together, you’ll make do with just me, won’t you?”

“Mhmm.”

Sam ruffled Max’s hair, and kissed his brow, rankled by his words. Regardless of what Sam had just said, wouldn’t it be nice for Max to have a mom? Even in his imagination the face was perfectly clear, the vision already there. He’d be lying to himself if he said that over the years he hadn’t thought about her holding Max, laughing with him. There was only ever one face that completed Sam’s daydream- Y/N’s. But Sam also knew just how impossible it was. Y/N wouldn’t even think of the aftermath of an accident, imagining her as a motherly figure was simply cruel. So much that the whiplash of it hit Sam’s conscience. It was why he hadn’t mentioned Max to her.

Trying to reign in his thoughts he absentmindedly took a bite of the cookie in his hand, chewing as he tried to dislodge the idea of Max and Y/N. Impossible… too painful, his mind screamed.

Abruptly, he stopped.

“Hey, Max? Sam asked slowly, “Where did you get these cookies?”

“Umm, those girl scouts came over this afternoon,” he said, not meeting Sam’s gaze. “I asked Alex to buy. Is that okay?”

“You sure these are girl scout cookies?”

“Yep.”

Eating the rest of the cookie in one bite, Sam jumped down from the counter and turned to his boy. “Promise me. Promise me you won’t think like that again,” Sam pleaded. “That you’re keeping me from anything. You saved me, kiddo. I would have been barely worth anything without you.”

“Same,” Max quipped. And despite the absolute horror of the situation, and how true both of their words were, Sam found himself snorting.

“Enough with the black comedy,” he ordered, “Lets go brush your teeth.”

“Yessum.”

Max leapt into Sam’s arms, and he carried his boy out of the kitchen. Sam eyed the jar of cookies one last time before switching off the lights.

Friday, first day of Induction fair. It was going to be one long day tomorrow.

*******************

“Alright, everybody clear on what they’re supposed to be doing tomorrow?”

“It’s 11:30 in the night, Y/N,” Seth complained, “We aren’t going to be any more ready.”

“I’m sorry,” you waved apologetically. “You guys should go home, I’ll wrap up the rest. I’m just nervous.”

“It’ll be okay,” Madison came to your side, putting her arm around your shoulders. “Seth’s just kidding. Aren’t you?” She turned on the poor guy who shook his head and you snickered.

“Okay, pack up y’all!” You called out to the people in the background busy with the last checks on the sound system. “We’re going to have a blast tomorrow.”

Cheers went up around you. One by one everyone clapped you on your back, offered smiles and went their way; only Madison, Brad and Rebecca remained.

“Who are you taking with you to the Saturday night dance?” Brad asked.

Well crap! “A friend of mine,” you answered. You’d have to ask one of the guys if they were free Saturday evening.

“Hmm… Does this friend happen to go to Law school?”

“Nope!”

“We’ll at least have time for one dance,” Brad insisted, leaning next to you as you packed your bag. “Your friend won’t mind, will he?”

“Brad,” you sighed. “I’m clearly not your type.”

He put his hands up. “Hey, I’m not implying anything here, but if that’s what you got out of it…”

You ignored him, walking back towards Maddie. He kept up with you easily. “What about the dance? One dance is well deserved.”

“Okay, fine!” Better to just agree and get it done with. Brad left with a superior smirk and you wondered what was the deal with him.

“Brad’s a great guy,” Rebecca said. “I don’t know what kind of Prince Charming you’re waiting for that you keep turning him down at every opportunity.”

“I’m not waiting for anyone.” It was true. You had found someone who could put Prince Charming to shame and then you had lost him. Now, the most you could hope for was his friendship. The thinly veiled bitterness and longing in Rebecca’s voice when she spoke of Brad led you to believe that her dislike for you wasn’t reasonless after all.

At the quad, you stopped, letting the girls know that you’d be heading towards the library, to relieve Molly from her shift early. It was supposed to be your shift anyway, Molly was doing you a favor by subbing.

“I’ll come with you,” Madison quipped. She waved a goodbye to Rebecca and the two of you set towards the library, your footsteps echoing in the night.

Once Molly had left, Madison logged into one of the records PC’s and started working on the case studies for professor Whitman. Meanwhile, you logged into your mail to print out the schedules and itineraries for the speakers tomorrow.

Just as you were printing out the last set, your email pinged, alerting you to an email from Sam. It was ridiculous that your heart should leap out of your chest, especially when it was merely a reply to your assignment. It was past one, and Sam was still up checking coursework.

Oh, how you wanted to reply back, ask him why he was up this late. But this was an official email ID. It would be wrong to get personal here. Unreasonable as it was, you were miffed that you didn’t have Sam’s phone number. Friends should be able to call each other, right? You could always find it out from the directory, however, you were stubborn about getting it from him.

“Hey, I just heard back from Professor Winchester,” Madison whispered, even though there wasn’t anyone else in the library. “I scored a 21.5!”

“That’s great!” You smiled.

“What about you? Did you hear from him yet?”

“Just. Scored a 23.”

Madison scrunched her nose, “I bet that’s the highest.” She sounded rueful, but you knew she didn’t mean any ill. “You mind if I take a look at your paper?”

“Course not.”

Madison read through your document carefully. “I can see why he rated you this high. This is great work, Y/N! I wonder…”

“What?”

She looked bemused. “In my email, he’s specifically pointed out all the good things and complemented me for my good work. In your reply he’s only pointed out the one flaw that cost you the two marks. He’s not said one good word about the rest.”

Maybe he thought you would understand, or maybe he was just too tired. If not commenting on your essay earned him ten extra minutes of rest, you were very glad that he hadn't.

You shrugged at Madison. “Maybe he forgot.”

“That’s not done,” she frowned. “You should ask him tomorrow.”

“Sure.”

A glazed look came over Madison’s face. “Remember the first time we were alone here?”

“We’d been trying to research for Mr. Winchester’s first assignment,” you smiled.

“And ended up stalking him instead,” Madison winked. “After I went home that day, I read up more about that sensationalised case of his. Really gruesome, the whole deal. Never pinned him for the type of lawyer to take up a criminal law case, let alone homicides.”

“What’s there to fight for in a criminal homicide?” You wondered. “Isn’t that DA’s job?”

You remembered a little from what you had read with Madison that day, over a month ago. Twin homicides followed by a legal battle over property inheritance. The deceased’s brother vs. the deceased son. There were also connected matters of custodial rights, abuse charges and adoption.

“It was really scandalous, Y/N,” Madison said. “You wouldn’t know because you didn’t live in California. It was all over the papers and news in LA. Ralph Simmons was this bigshot producer, and his on and off girlfriend- both of them shot by some drug pimp. A whole big racket came out with it. I think Mr. Winchester moved out of LA to avoid the fanfare that followed him everywhere afterwards.”

“When was this?”

“Ummm… about two and half years ago,” Madison said.

So before he started teaching at Stanford, and before his job at Acton Griswold.

“Why would he leave a successful firm in LA and move base to SF?” You asked out loud. “That too after a successful stint? It doesn’t make sense.”

To your surprise, Madison laughed. “Oh, firms must be dying to have him. Even my dad offered. Apart from offering a junior partnership, Acton Gris must have paid him a ton of money. Besides, his working hours are more like a consultants, so he can manage classes. That’s a lot of relaxations- only someone with that sort of fanfare would have been able to negotiate a deal.”

It wasn’t the money. That much you knew. Something else had made Sam uproot his life in LA and move here.

“Uhg! I really want to work with him, Y/N,” Madison let out. “I really want the summer internship at Acton Gris.” Seeing your expression, she quickly added, “It’s not why you think. I mean sure he’s super hot and all that, but I’ve looked up to him for his ethics, and the way he thinks. He’s just such a great lawyer.”

“Sure is.”

“I know what you’re thinking,” She said in a defeated voice. “Rich girl with a firm to her name, who could get in Acton Gris by recommendation as a favor. What’s the big deal, right?”

“Maddie, I wasn’t thinking that-”

“It’s alright if you do. Everyone does.”

You placed your hand on top of hers. “I don’t care what everyone else thinks. I care about you. The Madison I know is intelligent and hardworking, who deserves whatever she sets her heart to. Law is a lucrative practice. As long as you aren’t screwing over someone else, you should use whatever means you can.”

Madison’s eyes welled up. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, Y/N. Sometimes… sometimes I wonder if I even have any real friends who care about me. Becca… Lace, Mer… they all feel like friendships of convenience than actual substance. You’re the only one I’m sure will be happy to see me succeed in life.”

Your heart reached out for Madison. She was a good person who didn’t deserve to feel this way. Slowly you reached out and put your arms around her. “Maddie,” You breathed in her hair, not knowing what else to say. You had always known she was hurting inside without her having told you. Her relations seemed frivolous to you, but by the looks of it, her family life wasn’t much good either. Deep down she was convinced that her parents, her brothers didn’t love her. What must it be like to live that way?

You’d never been rich in your life except for those short married months, but not for a minute had you questioned the love of any person you called family. How was one supposed to live on without having the assurance of being absolutely loved?

The way you’ve lived for the past six and a half years, a small voice whispered in your brain. You quelled it immediately.

“Madison,” you said firmly this time. “I love you. And I’ll always support you. To hell with anyone who thinks otherwise.”

She hugged you closer, and you felt her broken breaths against your body. She didn’t want you to see her cry, so you held on till all her tears had dried.

********

You probably looked exactly how you felt- sleepless and exhausted. The first half of day one had gone smoothly with all introductions in place. Over two hundred and fifty alumni had RSVP’d for the event and forty two had agreed to speak or participate in panel discussions. You had been told this was one of the biggest turnouts ever. Instead of feeling like you had succeeded, you just felt more scared. Organised activity wasn’t your cup of tea. Right about then you were questioning how you even ended up heading this committee.

Everyone seemed to be asking for you, everyone had some or the other work with you and the tasks were never ending. The first time that you got a minute to sit was towards the end of lunch break. You dropped into the seat at the far end of the auditorium, head in your hands.

“Here!”

You turned your face to see Sam sitting next to you with a bottle of water in his hand. Unlike his usual self, he was dressed in a light knit grey sweater and jeans today. His glasses hung from the V-shaped neckline, revealing just enough for you to see the glint of his chain. You were so exhausted, all you wanted to do was fall against his shoulder and close your eyes for just two seconds. Sighing, you took the bottle from him and drank to your heart’s content.

“Maybe doing the late night shift at the library wasn’t the best idea, huh?”

You frowned. “How do you know?”

“The register,” He said. “I went to the library in the morning to return my book.”

“I thought you were avoiding the library like the plague.” The words slipped out before you could think them through. You hoped the bitter edge in them wasn’t very obvious.

“I would come if I could, you know?”

“What’s stopping you?” You asked, belligerent, “Too scared to go back home in the dark?”

You knew it was unfair to put him in a spot like this. He had a home, his own bed. Why would he spend his nights at the library just because you worked there? Just because he hadn’t talked to you all that much lately, or given you his phone number, didn’t mean you had the right to be irritated at him.

“Y/N-” he sighed, and before he could add on to that, he was interrupted.

“There you are!”

Chase Lincoln put a hand on Sam’s shoulder. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

You straightened your expression under the pretense of drinking more water, and handed the bottle back to Sam.

“Thank you, Mr. Winchester,” you said, standing up, “I must hurry back now. If you’ll excuse me.”

Sam stood up with you. The errant thought of resting against his shoulder made an appearance but you shoved it away violently.

“Wait,” Sam put his hand out to block you. You looked around you to see if anyone else had noticed. No one but Chase.

“Let me introduce the two of you,” he said.

“Wait, I know you,” Chase interjected. “You work with Molly, right? And you’re heading the organising committee.”

“Chase,” Sam said with gravity, making his friend focus, the green eyes sharpened on you.

Exhaling slowly, Sam turned to you. “This is Chase Lincoln. He works with me at Acton Griswold.” You heard the unsaid words- ‘He’s the one I was talking with that day in the coffee shop; my friend.”

“Chase.” Sam’s voice was heavy, the way Atlas’s might have sounded after a millennia of holding up the earth. There was defeat in it. “This- this is Y/N.”

Each time Sam uttered your name, a warmth settled in your chest. You suspected it was just your eternally besotted mind making up the idea that his voice grew softer when he said it. Apparently, that wasn’t the case, for Chase’s eyes narrowed as he took in the look on Sam’s face, then went wide in a split second. His head rapidly moved from you to Sam in a matter of moments, before his jaw dropped.

“S-... Your… “ Speech seemed to have temporarily evaded Chase.

“No diamonds,” Sam murmured.

“Y/N!” Someone shouted for you from two rows down. “There’s a problem with the mic. You need to check it out.”

“Ex- Excuse me,” you mumbled, hurrying away from Chase’s astounded stare. Maybe he knew it all, that didn’t particularly surprise you. What did surprise you was how Sam had decidedly made the introduction- as if Chase had to know.

As it turned out, the mic had only been disconnected. It was working absolutely fine. You were still grateful to have been removed from Chase’s presence, glad that you didn’t have to wait around to witness his judgement.

The rest of the day flew by faster than you could have guessed. Most of the heavy panel discussions were scheduled for the first day itself. You were blown away by the immense knowledge and expertise of those people, which was a good thing because you desperately needed a distraction.

You only saw Sam afterwards, once everything was over and the alumni were all catching up with each other, like old friends, reminiscing about the time they had spent together. Even though it was a lot of people there, your eyes kept going to Sam in his thin sweater, in a deep conversation with an aged man, who was laughing at something Sam had said.

“One down, two more days to go,” mumbled Madison. She was leaning against your back. “Can we just sleep here?”

“I told you to come home with me last night,” Rebecca stated, appearing out of nowhere. This time she had Lacey and Meredith with her. “Why did you have to stay up at the library?”

Usually Madison would’ve at least tried to answer. Today, her forehead and nose just dug deeper into your back. You pursed your lips so the smile wouldn’t spill over. She was taking a stand for how she deserved to be treated.

“Well, shit!” Lacey said. “Looks like I wasn’t wrong after all.”

Rebecca groaned. “Ugh she looks like an uptight bimbo.”

You didn’t pay attention to their conversation till Meredith said, “She’s definitely into professor Hotchester.”

Your head snapped up in Sam’s direction, but he was out of the straight line of your vision. Obscuring him was a girl, dressed in a pretty blue chiffon top and tight fitting pencil skirt. Her five inches long pumps caught the light of the setting sun and gleamed. She was tall and beautiful, statuesque in the way a swimsuit model is, her blonde hair fell to the middle of her back in perfect curls.

As you watched, she threw her hands around Sam’s neck and hugged him tightly. He willingly embraced her, too. You chanced a glance of the smile on his face as she disentangled and laughed, touching Sam’s chest lightly with her hand.

“Yeah, there’s something there,” Lacey whistled.

“Wonder who she is,” Madison whispered, so only you could hear.

You didn’t need to wonder who it was, you already knew. Jessica Moore. Sam’s Ex-girlfriend.

*******************

A/N 2: I kinda really like the next chapter. I think it speaks more about about the sort of writer and person that I am than most things I’ve written yet. Can’t wait to share it with y’all.

So any predictions? ;)

Thank you for all the reblogs and comments! Not gonna lie, life’s been kicking my butt a lot lately. Believe it or not, all of your love really helps <3

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iwantitiwriteit · 4 years

Text

Love Lockdown - Part 2

Big Girl With a Brave Face

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Summary: You brace yourself for your FaceTime with Chris.

Warnings: Angst, Pandemic backdrop, Profanity

Notes: More heart strumming feels! Read the previous part! Gonna try and put these up on Monday’s starting next week 8/10, along with In My Feelings Monday™, when my asks will be open for all your romantic musings! Let’s get sweet and sappy y’all! I know you wanna 🥰

The sun shines down, a crisp wind whisking by you every so often; applause for your hard work in the garden. You found a circadian rhythm. Grasp, pull, dump. Grasp, pull, dump. It afforded you an opportunity to get lost in thought… and memory.

You just don’t get it, do you?

Baby, I want to!

Why didn’t you say anything?

Would it have mattered?

I think we can both agree we need the space…

We need to talk…

I love you.

I love you too.

“Are you okay Aunty?” Iris’ innocent voice drifts into your trance but doesn’t break it completely.

You absentmindedly respond. “Uh huh. Why do you ask?”

“Probably ‘cos you're pulling at those weeds so ferociously I think you might’ve got a few good plants,” Ines answers for her younger sister, the teenage ‘tude snapping you to reality.

You assess your handiwork and sure enough, in your pile of weeds, some good plants lie there with them, undeservedly plucked from the earth. “Oh, my bad,” you sheepishly apologize.

“It’s okay. The only difference between a weed and a flower is judgment. Here,” Ines shuffles over to your spot.

“Ines, you’re wise beyond your years, you know that?” You stand up, placing your palms on your lower back, arching and stretching in a moment of respite. Looking over your nieces tending to the greenery you botched, their youthful vigor bring a genuine smile to your face. Those have been few and far in between these days.

“I know, right? Could you tell my mom for me?” she kids, making you laugh. “It couldn’t have been that long since it was you and Mama doing this,” Ines smirks at you briefly before refocusing on rerooting.

You chuckle, “Ha! Feels like a lifetime ago. But, yeah, it really hasn’t been that long. Guess I just kinda lost touch.”

“Do you miss it? Do you miss being here?” Iris asks.

“Umm… honestly?” The both of them look up at you, eyes wide and expectant. “I thought I didn’t. L.A. can be blinding in that way. But now that I’m here, I feel a little more… myself. Not to mention that I’ve missed you girls soo much! C’mere!”

A niece under each arm, hugging your middle tightly, you can feel how much they’ve missed you as well. You want to be a better aunt to them. Your love for your family is as expansive as the family farm you marvel at in front of you. Acres of green going beyond the quaint garden near the house, with the barn just behind the rustic office and rec building where the farmers are currently gathered for lunch just a few feet away. But your feelings were much like half your sister’s employees as of late; they didn’t show, especially in crisis.

Through one of the windows, you catch sight of a familiar profile; hand to his temple pressing deep into his smooth, mahogany skin, thick, dark brows knitted together in concentration, plump lips puckered as he writes furiously, occasionally taking a bite of his sandwich. He must feel your eyes because he looks up to meet them, breaking focus from his working lunch. The hand that was to his temple is now raised for a tentative wave, just as the corner of his mouth is raised for a beautiful, sweet smile.

Your shoulders tense, your wave is curt, and your smile is barely there. You avert your eyes not wanting to see the effect of your abrupt actions.

“I know Keith is glad you’re back, too.” You look down to see Iris looking up at you, her 10 year old face contorted into her best suggestive look.

Ines rolls her eyes at her sister’s antics, “Oh, stop it! She’s already got the most perfect, dreamy boyfriend, remember?”

“Well, I’ve never met him. Have you? How do we know if he’s even real?”

“She’s got a point. Why haven’t we met him yet?”

“If he thinks he's too good to come down south, meet your family, let me tell you something Aunty, that’s not the kind of man you should be with.”

“I don’t think Aunty had ‘take dating advice from a child’ on her quarantine to-do list. Maybe he’s just busy; he is a movie star— correction— a superhero! Superhero equals stable income, stable income means husband material. Simple math.”

“Well, Keith has a stable and would never be too busy for her!”

“Keith runs a stable… a horse stable. Not exactly a selling point, right Aunty?”

“Aunty, tell her she’s wrong!”

The girls get to bickering and you wipe your forehead, not too sure if it’s from the heat or the interrogation you’re enduring. You check your watch. 1:39 pm.

“Shit!” Your exclamation silences your nieces as they whip their heads towards you. “Sorry ladies,” you offer an apologetic smile for the obscenity. “I, uh, gotta get ready for a call. Let’s turn it in early, yeah?” They race in the house without a second thought, and you trail behind them.

You remove your shoes in the mud room, then stalk down the hall toward the main part of the house. You wave to your sister as you pass her home office where she’s pacing, busy on the phone, swamped in paperwork. She waves you over with a confused face and shrugs as she sees her girls buzzing around.

You go to lean in the door jamb of her office as she asks, “What brings y’all inside so early? Wasn’t expecting you to be back in for another couple hours.”

“I have that FaceTime call at 2 I gotta get ready for, remember?”

“Right, right… remind me again. It’s for a writing gig?” she asks, sifting through her mountain of papers, as distracted as she was this morning when you told her your afternoon plans.

“Uh, no. It’s um, with… Chris,” your voice trails off with each word.

Your sister whips her head around, interest now piqued. “Really? That’s good, right?”

You shrug and sigh, indifference in your expression, “It’s, y'know… whatever, Mina.”

Wilhelmina furrows her brows, “What’s wrong?” Before you could contemplate an excuse, she puts a finger up to you, “Yes, thank you, I’m trying to get in touch with…” she answers to the person on the other line.

Your watch buzzes with your 15 minute reminder for your FaceTime with Chris. “I gotta go,” you tell your sister, before turning to head upstairs. The ascension to the second level feels like a death march, the impending doom of your relationship finally setting in. Each step feels increasingly weighted. Once at the top of the staircase, you pinch the bridge of your nose as if that will alleviate your anxieties.

“Let’s get you ready,” Wilhelmina’s maternal voice drifts to you as she comes up the stairs, melting your nerves a little. She shoots you a pity smile before ushering you into your guest room, where you make a B-line for the bathroom.

You take your time and delicately wash away the grime and sweat from your face. It’s like a Neutrogena commercial, the way you come up from the sink, staring yourself in the mirror. You take note of the creases in your forehead caused by your tense brows, the pain in your eyes, your overall sullen expression. And this feeling. This feeling is like being suspended mid-air, knowing the dreadful drop was any minute now.

You know very well who is in control of the drop. You just don’t know when you gave up that control to him. The only thing you can do now is go with grace. In an effort to have some sense of control, you did what anyone in your situation would do: You turned to Google.

“what to do when your boyfriend is about to break up with you” is what you typed into the search engine this morning. You felt like a teenager. Young and dumb. Like you’d never been in a relationship before. Like you’d never been broken up with before. None of this is new. And yet, it is. You hadn’t been here before. You hadn’t known this feeling before.

The feeling of knowing the one to make the dreadful drop happen is the same one that you love more than you knew was even possible, and damn did it hurt like hell. But could it have hurt more than knowing you’re the one that brought him to this point? Especially when you know these deep feelings are requited? The love is requited.

Who knows. You just file these feelings away for later in the hopes that it’ll inspire your pen. Right now it’s time to put on a brave face. You’ve gotten so good at it.

“So, what brought this on?” Wilhelmina inquiries after a few minutes of you lollygagging in front of the bathroom mirror.

“Oh, umm… well, he called last night. It was the first time we talked since—”

“You got here.”

“Yeah, but who’s counting,” your deadpan earns you a disapproving look from your sister. You’ve learned to ignore it. You check the time. 5 til. “Ugh, I don’t have time to pretty myself up. Breakups are ugly anyways; guess I’ll have to be, too,” you joke, leaving Whilelmina bewildered.

“Wait, what? You’re dumping him? I know it’s tough, trust me, I get it, but—”

“No... he’s gonna dump me,” you correct her.

“What would make you think that?”

“I don’t know, maybe cos he said ‘we need to talk… for real’,” you mock his deep voice; it’s how you read his text last night in your head, “and we all know what that means…”

“Hold up, it doesn’t necessarily mean that!”

“C’mon Mina! It’s textbook breakup prep!”

“Maybe for a teenager, but he’s a grown ass man. If he says he wants to talk, he probably just wants to talk.”

“Yeah, about dumping you…” Ines mumbles under her breath from the doorway. Wilhelmina stares daggers into her mouthy daughter, and she shrinks away to mind her business.

You continue to get ready, mainly focusing on laying your edges before finding a new shirt. “So, why would he suggest we quarantine separately knowing we had issues we were working on?” you debate your sister.

“Because like he said: you need some space. Totally normal for maintaining a healthy relationship.”

“Is it though? Cos when I say “I need space”, I’m thinking about making an exit. And that’s on a good, non-pandemic day. Hell, our issues alone would make me bow out. Now you add this stressful shit on top?”

“Then why haven’t you?”

Her simple question makes you stop in tracks, your brave face wavering for just a moment. “B-Because— it doesn’t matter. He’s ending things with me, in,” you check the time, “3 minutes. And I don’t blame him! I’ve been a mess lately! An emotional wreck lately! You should’ve heard me last night, it was gross!”

Wilhelmina starts to chuckle at your dramatics, but you can tell she’s laughing at you, not with you. “What’s so funny?”

“Sweetheart, you’d have to show emotions to be an emotional wreck. I think you skipped a few steps.”

“Whatever,” you roll your eyes as you peel off your sweaty shirt and toss it in the laundry basket. You take your wash cloth to dab your underarms before putting on a nicer top. A proper shower will have to wait til later.

“I’ll have you know that I do, in fact, have emotions. I just channel them into my writing, to avoid sapping them all over any- and everyone… like some people I know,” you quirk your brow and tilt your head in Wilhelmina‘s direction.

“Girl, whatever! From what you told me, Chris is as much a romantic as I am, maybe even more so. You don’t hate it as much as you let on. Just admit it.”

You slowly turn away from Wilhelmina to primp yourself in the full length mirror. She follows you, glaring at you in hopes she will break you down. You decide to throw her a bone.

“Last night, I told him how we should’ve been together right now. There was even a quiver in my voice because I do really, really miss him. It was all so, so...” Your sister’s hands are clutching her chest, eyes glazed like she was watching a romcom. She’d finally gotten through to you. “… so pathetic.” Or so she’d thought. The sound of frustration that came from her amused you greatly, your eyes now glazed from crying of laughter.

“See, that’s what the hell I'm talking about! If he brings emotion— vulnerability— out of you, why do you resist? He’s worth keeping around, sis. I would think you: an artist, a writer for god’s sakes, would find some value in that.”

You stare straight ahead, fixing imaginary stray curls in your hair, and avoiding eye contact with Wilhelmina. She awaits your response, brows raised, neck craned toward you, hands below her chest with palms up, as if to say ‘Sooo...???’. You wondered how long she’d stay like that before you said something. “Are you done?”

Your sister sighs, and it’s quickly followed by ringing from your laptop. You both look in its direction, then at each other. The moment you’d been bracing for all day is here. You hesitantly move towards the chair at your desk where your laptop is sat.

“I’ll leave you to it,” Wilhelmina says before excusing herself. You almost didn’t want her to go. But you’ve got to be a big girl with a brave face.

“One last thing?” you twist in your chair to look at her in your doorway, “I know who made you believe that big girls don’t cry, but it’s bullshit. It’s good to feel. It’s okay to show it sometimes, too. Especially with the ones who showed and proved they won’t judge you for it,” she motions to your still ringing computer before closing your door.

You turn back to your desk, swallowing thickly. Here goes. You answer the call and Chris’ smiling face fills your screen. That beautiful face that’s worth doing right by.

“Hey baby! For a second there, I thought you wouldn’t answer,” he nervously chuckles.

You smile at him but it doesn’t reach your eyes. He senses your apprehension. Even through a screen, he’s perceptive. Chris starts to small talk, rambling about work and the weather, intending to ease your guard down before getting to the tough stuff. But it’s absolutely painful pretending to be strangers.

“Chris?”

“Yes honey?”

“I don’t wanna do this with you.”

Part 3

#chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fan fiction #chris evans imagine #chris evans one shot #Chris Evans series #chris evans x black reader #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x poc!reader #chris evans angst #chris evans x woc #chris evans series #chris evans #love lockdown series

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phantompearlsalt · 3 years

Text

Sour Cherry, Chapter 5

The way I just impulsively wrote this because I’ve had sleepy Kuvira stuck in my head for days and I couldn’t afford to let this go! It’s sooo short so that’s why there’s no preview (in addition to how fast it happened lol) but I hope y’all enjoy it as much as I loved writing it! Can’t wait to start getting through your requests this week ❤️ Check out chapter 5 on AO3 as well!

Since crossing paths, you had cemented a perception of Kuvira as a woman who was steadfast, undaunted, and more than a bit intimidating. Of course, you understood there was so much more that made up this profoundly and wonderfully complicated human — even in the days where you’d fawn from afar, you knew there were depths to her that ran far beyond what she displayed to the world.

Nevertheless, it would be foolish to say those characteristics weren’t Kuvira’s dominant traits and she would be inclined to agree. From an early age, she had learned to confront the world in this manner and she has come to enjoy this way of being. She finds immense satisfaction in knowing the slightest movement, word, or sound from her can profoundly alter her surroundings and the demeanor of those around her.

Therefore, you found it fabulously endearing the day she began floundering about when and how you’d start sharing the same room.

It all began about a month into your newfound relationship. Neither of you felt ready to share it with the world — what you had discovered with each other felt far too precious to fall upon oblivious ears and you wanted to treasure it amongst yourselves for as long as you could.

So you continued to spend time together as you had for so many weeks, sharing meals together or going on walks once everyone had retired to their quarters. With time, you carefully found ways to share more moments throughout the day: walking to and from meetings together, “debriefing” in hallways, or working in the same space.

On this particular day, you had been reviewing the details of an incoming shipment contract while Kuvira sifted through the latest prototype proposals from Varrick. Despite having worked well on your own for so long, in those few weeks you spent closer to Kuvira you found it increasingly difficult to focus without her solid presence.

You had been working in comfortable silence for about an hour when she spoke. “When are you moving into my quarters?” she asked plainly. You were about halfway through a paragraph when the inquiry threw you off entirely. You looked up at her with startled eyes.

“I’m sorry?” you stammered. Whereas her face had been entirely indifferent moments before, your response prompted a distressed expression in an instant. It may not have been obvious to most, but you knew she felt deeply uncomfortable when her eyes tightened and her lips grew taut.

“Forget it. It was an imprudent comment,” she responded uneasily. “No Kuvira, it’s okay,” you reassured her, keeping your voice soft. “You just caught me off guard is all.”

She appeared hesitant to continue but eventually spoke again. “It has been four and a half weeks since we began our romantic relationship,” she stated. “People are talking,” you added. Kuvira inhaled deeply and momentarily closed her eyes.

“Precisely,” she replied. “I may be approaching this incorrectly but I believe the next appropriate step would be for us to share quarters, correct?” You stared at her wonderingly for a moment, steepling your hands beneath your chin and observing the overly proper way she carried herself.

“Do you want to move in together because of that? People talking?” you asked. You knew your response was slightly cruel — Kuvira had clearly struggled to even broach the subject and now you were squeezing this out of her.

But you needed absolute certainty. You needed to know that she wanted this for the right reasons and not because of the questioning glances of their peers.

“No,” she said firmly. “Frankly, I couldn’t care less about their opinions. The only thing holding me back is...this is important to me. More than they could ever possibly comprehend. And I want it to be accepted as such. But I also can’t bear the thought of spending many more nights apart from you.”

That final sentence is what knocked the wind out of you and sprung you from your seat, striding over to Kuvira and standing just above her as she remained seated. You brought your hands to her face and offered her a watery smile, coaxing your thumb across her cheekbone.

“That’s all I needed to know,” you murmured. You felt the weight of her head relax into your palms as she covered your hands with hers. “So will you consider it? Moving into my quarters?” she asked.

“I don’t need to because I already know I will.”

---

Not long after that afternoon (the following morning to be precise), Kuvira confirmed your relationship to her officers. “I will not have rumors overpowering the efficacy of my army. You have your confirmation, now cease from engaging in such infantile habits and focus your attention to the matters at hand.”

Only Bolin had eyed you from his place across the table, holding back what you could only assume was a congratulatory smile. You nodded minutely and returned your attention to Kuvira, glad to have moved past the moment that had left you anxious all night. Though you had to admit you found great pleasure in the near-comical way everyone in the room suddenly had an incredibly difficult time glancing in your direction.

The transition into Kuvira’s room was relatively fast but that was to be expected. That slow build up to a swift culmination of action seemed to be characteristic of your relationship and you had no qualms about it. You liked that about your dynamic — it made sense.

You had insisted on moving your things into her quarters yourself over the course of several nights. It wasn’t like you had very many belongings to begin with. Kuvira, being the discreetly attentive woman she was, would not have any of it and took it upon herself to assist you.

The move took about two nights — between the two of you, you took full advantage of the night’s cover and successfully moved everything over without the wandering gazes of privates and sergeants.

That first night carried an energy comparable to an electric charge. It felt like a pleasant buzz had overtaken the room and settled within each pore of your body, carrying the sensation to your veins until it felt as though you would burst from the feeling alone.

You were folding your minimal collection of clothes and storing them into Kuvira’s — well, now your shared — bureau. Kuvira sat on the bed, watching you silently. As you tucked away the final shirt, you took a deep breath and turned to face her. It was clear neither of you really knew what to say next.

“How are you feeling?” she asked. You looked down to your feet for a few moments before answering shakily, “Honestly? I’m really, really nervous. But...I think in the best possible way.”

Breaking her expressionless face, Kuvira stretched her legs apart slightly and extended her arms. Immediately understanding the motion, you took the three extra steps that closed the space between you so you were standing above her.

With a sheepish grin, she wrapped her arms around your hips and rested her head on your belly. “Okay. Me too,” she whispered and in an instant you were confident you had turned into a gooey pool of unadulterated happiness.

---

Since then, you have grown to cherish the night, most particularly that lovely and sleepy stretch of time where you both settle into your respective routines and prepare for the rest of the evening.

Today had been a notably explosive day (in more ways than one...you’re relieved to hear there were no major injuries in today’s engineering incident) and you were looking forward to getting back to your quarters all afternoon.

You change out of your robe, tossing your damp towels in the hamper before stepping into your favorite set of cotton loungewear and returning to the bathroom. Kuvira has finished bathing and there’s a cozy film of steam hanging over you. She smiles faintly as she dries her hair and you lean over to press a soft kiss to her cheek.

In moments, you easily fall into your practices. You turn the faucet on and wash your face while Kuvira stands at your side, pulling a brush through her hair and detangling the sodden locks. It’s a comforting tune: the familiar rush of running water and bristles combing through hair, the humorous swish of a rinsing mouth and bottle caps snapping open and closed.

As always, she finishes before you and briefly touches her hand to your lower back before exiting. You wrap up your final steps, flick the lights off, and join Kuvira in bed. She’s lying beneath the covers with her hands beneath her head, thoughtfully gazing up at the ceiling and no doubt plotting her moves for the next day.

You slide in and retrieve your book from the bedside table. It’s been a few nights since you’ve felt tranquil enough to read and you won’t pass up an opportunity to lose yourself in the refreshing verses of ancient Earth Kingdom poetry. You settle in close to Kuvira, pushing your fingers into her hair and delicately stroking through the tresses.

A pleased hum vibrates in her throat so you continue the motion, using the other hand to keep your book up. It’s a challenge to turn the pages with your thumb alone but Kuvira is so comfortable and the thought of stopping sounds preposterous at this point.

You aren’t quite sure how much time passes before she shifts beneath you, her eyes closed as her breath steadily slows down. You carefully pull your hand away from her head, bookmark your place, and switch off the lamp. When you slide onto the pillow, her eyelids barely flutter open and you can’t resist the dopey smile that curls along your mouth.

You see this side of Kuvira every night and you have for months, yet the sight of those drowsy green eyes and locks of hair fanned across her pillow never ceases to make your heart clench in the most splendid way. It hadn’t taken long for you to decide this is one of your favorite sights in the entire world, only second to the way morning light filters through your curtains and casts an otherworldly glow to Kuvira’s slumbering face. Nothing on this side of the universe could possibly compare to that.

As she watches you her eyelids blink slowly and she brings her fingertips to your face, sleepily dragging them across your cheekbones and your forehead. You breathe in deeply and notice the way your heart pounds harder against your chest, the way it only does this during these hushed pockets of time where nothing else exists except for Kuvira and the warm cradle of her limbs draped over yours.

You press forward an inch until your knees touch hers and she looks at you expectantly. Ever the impatient one, she bridges the space between your faces and seals your mouths in a lazy kiss. It’s short and graceless but that makes it all the more marvelous to you. It’s your deep seated reverence for each other in its purest form and it conjures a stream of ecstasy to pulse through your body.

It brings you back to that very first night, when Kuvira’s arms pulled you against her and you basked in the excitement of what this seemingly trivial change meant to you both.

When she moves back, you are certain she is seconds away from falling asleep. You press a chaste kiss to the tip of her nose and pull the sheets higher over her shoulders. It takes a handful of moments before her face smooths out entirely and her breath falls into a heavy and consistent rhythm. It’s a marvel to see the stressors of the day literally melt off her face, replaced by the peaceful look only sleep can bring. Sometimes you wish you could offer her so many more hours of this undisturbed peace, away from the copious burdens she places upon herself...but instead you ensure she enjoys these few hours enveloped by the security you promise to always offer her.

For now, you hope it’s enough.

By the time you doze off yourself, your arm hangs across Kuvira’s waist — an ever present weight that reassures her you will be there in the morning and every morning after that.

#kuvira #kuvira x reader #kuvira/reader #kuvira headcanons #kuvira legend of korra #avatar lok #x reader #drabbles #FLUFF!!! SO MUCH FLUFF!!!#:')))))#sour cherry

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kimvvantae · 4 years

Text

puzzle; 6 (m)

➜ you and jungkook are best friends of a lifetime, even though your personalities are like unmatching pieces of a puzzle. the line between friendship and something more has never been crossed between you two - but that changes after a break up and a drunken night, when you not-so-accidentally cross this line to something much more. what happens when after this accident your non-matching puzzle pieces seem to match in a way you’ve never imagined?

pairing: jungkook x (f) reader

genre: smut, angst, comedy; friends with benefits au; college au

warnings: lots of swearing, unprotected sex (use condoms y’all kids)

rating: 18+

word count: 13k wooohoooooo

A/N: i listened to the same 4 songs over and over again while writing and i think it kind of sets the mood for this chapter so hm if you guys like listening to music while reading here goes a small playlist:

Jungkook - If you (read the lyrics pls)

Whitesnake - Is This Love

BTS - Jamais Vu

Sam Smith - Lay Me Down

enjoy!

➜ Chapters: check up masterlist in bio!

« playlist »

“You’re acting weird.”

You finally look up when you hear this, just to see Hoseok frowning at you.

“I’m not.” You’re quick to say, shrugging.

“You’re really acting weird. Is everything okay?” Hoseok insists, crossing his arms.

Hoseok is not what bothers you the most, though, but another pair of eyes watching you like a hawk.

Jimin knows why you’re acting weird. Since that day at Joy’s house, he has been staring at you like this constantly - half judging, half worried.

It’s very annoying, to be honest.

“I’m just… a little bit stressed.” You admit, shrugging again. Fortunately, Hoseok isn’t as observant as Jimin, so he seems convinced.

“So, what did you guys want?” You ask, changing the topic. They came after you in the cafeteria while you have lunch after all.

“Ah! I almost forgot,” Hoseok starts. “You quit your job at the coffee shop, right?”

“Yes. It was way too stressful and my boss was a bitch.” You huff.

“So you’ll be free this weekend?” He asks. You nod, but if he’s about to invite you to a party or something, you’re ready to say no. “The thing is, you know that me and Jimin have this job as waiters, right? There’s a wedding this weekend and they’re needing staff. So, if you’re interested, you can come with us on Saturday night. The payment is decent and it’s just easy stuff to do.”

Your mood lightens up at this. “Yeah, sure! I’ll go. I really need money right now.”

Hoseok smiles and claps his hands together. “Alright! I’ll send you all the information later. They’ll give you a uniform, so don’t worry about clothes. I have to go now. Bye!”

He leaves.

Jimin stays.

You just keep eating quietly, Jimin’s heavy gaze on you, until you finally get annoyed.

“Jimin, what do you want?” You cross your arms and glare back.

Jimin slowly quirks one eyebrow. “Won’t you ask me if Jungkook’s going?”

“Why would I ask if he’s going or not?”

“Because you guys aren’t talking anymore.”

“Thank you so much for reminding me of this, Jimin."

He realised that he went a little too far just by seeing your clenched jaw and the anger in your eyes. Jimin sighs and shrugs. "Anyways, yes, Jungkook is going. But not to work as a waiter, he’ll take pictures instead.”

“So what?"

Jimin swipes his hand over his face and shakes his head as if he can’t believe what he’s seeing. "I think you’re so stupid. Both of you. My fucking God.”

“You know what, Jimin? That’s none of your business.” You finally get up and take the tray rather roughly, walking away without looking back.

Maybe you were a little too rude with Jimin, but he’s being unbearable these days.

It’s been one month since that day at Joy’s house - one month since you and Jungkook have been avoiding each other like the plague.

And maybe you were a little too rude with him because deep down, you know he’s right.

As usual.

tae: wyd?? 👀👀

you: working

tae: ??? didn’t u quit ur job

you: yea

you: it’s one night thing

you: i need the 💸💸

tae: oh

tae: ok

tae: i’ll ask later then

you: wAIT

you: ask what??????

tae: later

tae: u should work first~

you: but im curious

you: i can’t work if im curious >:(

tae: 🙊

you: tae????

you: taeeeeeeee

you: TAEHYUNG

He doesn’t reply anymore.

You groan, shoving your phone on your back pocket again, and leave the restroom. The guests hadn’t arrived yet since the wedding ceremony is still ongoing, but the kitchen is already a mess: people yelling orders, the delicious scent of good food in the air, cooks cooking (duh) and waiters getting ready. The boss has already given you the last instructions, but it’s not as if working in an event like this is a difficult task: serve the guests, smile, be polite, walk around the hall, try not to break the crystal glasses that cost more than what you can pay.

The hotel is pretty fancy, actually. You were expecting a smaller wedding. Not that this is a problem, of course. The only problem here are the heels that all women are forced to use; it’s not too high, but walking around endlessly the whole night in these will be painful for sure. The rest of the uniform is that standard - black pants, white button shirt, black vest and bow tie, hair tied in a perfect high bun, simple makeup.

You walk to the hall to make the last adjustments in the decoration. Pretty much everything is in place, so there isn’t much to do. The tables are organized, the floor is pristinely clean, the white flower bouquets are in place. A DJ will be in charge of music tonight.

You stand at the back of the hall, almost hidden, just to check your phone once more; no new texts. Now, you can’t stop thinking about what Taehyung wants to ask. He knows you’d get all curious. You and Taehyung have grown closer these days: late phone calls, endless texts, random memes at random times. You hadn’t gone on a proper date yet, though - and you don’t think you want to.

Taehyung is a nice guy and a good friend, but you don’t want to take things to the next level - even though this seems to be Taehyung’s intention since the beginning. He has been insisting in you for quite a long time now meanwhile all you do is keep a certain distance. You didn’t really give him any real hopes yet and you’re afraid that Taehyung might be reading your actions in the wrong way. Truth be told, it’ll be so shitty of you to keep his hopes high when you won’t go anywhere with this.

Your feelings are all messed up.

Because you shouldn’t even be feeling anything in the first place.

Ironically, you’ve never been friends with benefits with anyone before. You did have some fuck buddies in the past, though - but you were never friends with any of them. You never got involved with any of your actual friends. Sure, there was that night when drunk-you and drunk-Jimin made out at a party (you don’t talk about it), but at that time, you had just joined college and neither you nor Jungkook were close to Jimin yet, so it doesn’t really count. Also, you and Jimin never had sex - you just kissed, nothing more.

But of course dumb you had to be friends with benefits with your best fucking friend. Of course you had to destroy your friendship like that. Everyone knows that sex is a friendship destroyer. Everyone!

One month without Jungkook felt like being in the desert without rain. You have good friends, but none of them are that special person that’s somehow able to read you mind and understand you even if you don’t say anything. None of them know the type of meme you’d laugh at, none of them sent you random snaps at random times of the day. Worst of all - you didn’t watch Endgame together, when you’ve been watching every Marvel film together ever since you both started obsessing over heroes years ago. Every. Single. Marvel. Film.

You didn’t get to see Jungkook crying during the last scenes of Endgame. Jimin didn’t say if he cried or not, but you know he cried.

That’s devastating.

Truth be told, you don’t even miss sex. Sure, you and Jungkook are the perfect match in bed, and you caught yourself masturbating at night wishing it were Jungkook’s fingers inside of you instead (touching yourself has never been so depressing), but what you actually miss to the point it hurts your chest are the small, familiar things. The comfortable silence. The funny banter. Going to Burger King together late at night after a party or when none of you want to cook. Showing each other funny videos or discussing about the latest chapter of the manga you’re both reading. Jungkook ignoring your texts for hours because he’s too focused on playing Overwatch. You even miss the way he never lets you eat the last slice of pizza, goddammit.

You simply miss him.

What leads you to another thought - something that has been growing stronger in your mind.

After days of self denial, you finally admitted that you were jealous of Jungkook and Joy.

There’s no other explanation for the way you acted that day at her house. You were mad that she was touching him and getting too close. That’s weird. You’ve never really been the jealous type. You never minded when people tried to flirt with Jungkook.

You’re not jealous of friends.

Even so, you had a jealousy attack and didn’t rest until Jungkook’s attention was yours again.

Being totally honest with yourself, you’ve been jealous of Joy ever since you found out she was interested in him.

…what the fuck?

Something inside of you have changed, and only now you’re brave enough to admit. Somewhere along the road, you stopped seeing Jungkook as just a friend. He’s currently in that blurry and confusing level - not only a friend, but at the same time, not more than a friend. You don’t know what the fuck he is anymore.

More importantly… do you want to be more than friends?

If you and Jungkook make up, will you be able to go back to what it was - just friends?

Or are you just being possessive? Did you start seeing him in a different way just because you realized you’re about to lose him?

You don’t know the answer to none of those questions. What you know at the moment is that being away from him fucking hurts. You have the same friends, go to the same places, study at the same university, but barely see each other anymore. What’s that thing people say? You just start valuing things after you lose them.

Jimin asked you not to play with Jungkook’s feelings. What he doesn’t know, though, is that you’re so confused about yours that you don’t have time to play with his feelings.

When you realize the guests are about to come, you force your brain to focus on your current task. You stand back with the rest of the waiters as, slowly, the elegant guests get into the hall, sitting at their respective tables, and soon the place is filled with conversation, laughter and music.

After everyone took their places, the main couple finally come.

The lights change. The DJ plays a special song. Guests stand up and applaud when they enter the hall, smiling, and walk to the center to have their first dance as a married couple.

You could have noticed how the bride’s dress was beautiful. You could have noticed how her front teeth was dirty with lipstick and how the groom tried to discreetly tell her about this. You could have even noticed how one of the kids was starting to have a tantrum and his mother half-screamed, half-whispered, if you don’t be quiet you’ll be grounded for one month!

But you don’t notice any of that, because the photographer enters the hall right after the couple does.

Your heart flutters in a funny way.

Jungkook is wearing a suit (you don’t even remember the last time you saw him in a suit); black and simple, but it fits him so well. He isn’t much different from all the other man, except for his long hair - his black hair is so long he can probably tie it now - and his ear piercings. He holds his camera to eye level, capturing every moment he can from the couple’s first dance, a backpack with other tools hanging from his shoulder.

Everyone else is focusing on the couple - but you can’t look at anything else but him.

He looks so handsome and focused and hot and-

Hey, you’re here to work!, you remind yourself angrily, shaking your head and walking back to the kitchen.

Drink after drink, tray after tray - you and the other waiters and waitresses walk around the hall to serve the guests. It’s not a difficult work, but still tiring nevertheless. It’s also hard to balance yourself and the trays with these high heels. Soon, you’re immersed in the work and momentarily forget about everything else, although (unconsciously) you try to avoid being seen by a specific someone.

Time passes by and the party goes on. Parents make heartfelt speeches, everyone cries. The DJ plays popular songs and soon the dancefloor is full. Alcohol already starts to get into their heads. Men are either speaking and laughing too loud or crying, hugging the groom. Women already forgot their high heels and their elegance, twerking shamelessly and screaming. Kids do the usual - run, yell, fall and cry - and they almost throw you on the ground twice. Someone spills champagne on the floor; you rush to clean it before someone ends up slipping. There’s the eventual noise of glass breaking. A certain dude has asked for your help far too much and you start to avoid him, noticing that he’s staring at your ass. Another guest pukes and is taken to the infirmary. As usual, you hear old women complaining about the food, how the decoration is ugly, how one waiter was rude, how the DJ doesn’t play the songs they want-

“The photographer is so hot! What’s his name?!” You hear someone giggling.

You gulp.

Jungkook is just doing his job, but that boy can’t go unnoticed, not even when he tries. You don’t know if he saw you yet, and honestly, you hope he didn’t.

Just do your job. Just do your job.

The night goes on. Your left foot hurts and you need to pee, but gladly most of the guests have already left - the groom and bride left first and the party went on without them -, the hall is almost empty, which means it’s almost ending. Now, you busy yourself with cleaning the hall.

“Man, I’m dead,” Hoseok groans, stretching his back. You nod, putting some empty glasses on a tray to take them back to the kitchen.

“Now imagine bearing it all in heels,” you say, not being able to keep your nice posture anymore. Not that there are many guests anyway - most are too drunk or sleeping on the tables. The DJ is still diligently playing, though.

“The night was productive after all,” Jimin chirps happily, approaching you two with a smug grin on his lips. You see he’s holding a small paper between his fingers… someone’s phone number.

“Son of a bitch,” you say under your breath. Jimin just shrugs and smirks. Much obviously, you apologized for your rudeness before you came. The fact that he forgave you so easily made everything worse, honestly. Jimin is a nice guy with his friends (way too nice for his own good sometimes) and it just shows how he doesn’t deserve to be treated in a rude way.

“I’m just taking the chances life gives me!” He chirps again, making you roll your eyes.

“Anyways, what’s wrong with Jungkook?” Hoseok wonders, crossing his arms and frowning. “He didn’t come over the entire night. Is he avoiding us?”

You gulp.

Instantly, your eyes travel to where he stands in the nearly-empty dance floor. He smiles politely to some women that stand around him. Everyone’s obviously too drunk and they’re probably talking nonsense.

He’s avoiding me, you realize sadly.

“He’s working, Hoseok. His job won’t end if the guests keep asking for pictures.” Jimin is quick to say, what indeed makes sense, but Jimin also knows very well why he has been keeping his distance. Hoseok is the only one that doesn’t notice the strange tension in the air.

When you notice you’ve been staring for an embarrassing long time, you immediately shift your gaze to the dirty plates in front of you, organizing them in a pile to take them to the kitchen. You came here to work. That’s it. Focus-

An excited scream tears the air.

“I loooove this song!” One of the girls on the dance floor scream, the one that has been clinging on Jungkook ever since the crowd started to dissipate. Much obviously tipsy, her eyes were glued on him the entire night (not that you’ve been noticing the people checking him out. Of course not). “Jungkookie, dance with me!”

You almost gasp.

Jungkookie?!

That’s when you finally notice the face Jungkook is making - and you try your best not to laugh.

He has that look that means oh my fucking God someone please take me out of this situation.

The two boys by your side don’t try to hide the laughter as well as you, watching the desperate Jungkook try to turn her offer down - an awkward smile, eyes shifting from her, a muttered apology (I still have some work to do…) but the thirsty girl is surprisingly insistent (you can stop for a little bit, come on!).

“I feel sorry for him,” Hoseok almost chokes as he tries to stop his giggles. You kind of feel sorry, too. He can’t be rude to a customer, otherwise he’d be punched by her relatives - not that Jungkook would be rude anyway. He steps back, scratches the back of his neck. The girl is almost climbing him. He looks around desperately, trying to find a way to escape-

“Why don’t you help him, Y/N?” Jimin says sweetly.

You side eye the sugar-coated snake you call friend. “Jimin.” Is all you say in a warning manner.

Someone that doesn’t understand the situation wouldn’t think anything weird, because you’re actually used to save Jungkook from crazy girls. The thing is, sometimes he’s too nice to turn girls down - and yes, girls do chase him. When he’s not interested in them, you’d usually understand the situation and run on his rescue, most times pretending to be his girlfriend so the girls would stop bothering him. It’s something funny and you’d always laugh your asses off right after.

Not now.

You definitely don’t want to laugh now.

Jimin is being far from innocent. He just wants to push you two into each other. He may have good intentions, but he’s not considering the fact that you don’t feel ready to face Jungkook - not when your feelings are so messed up. This ain’t happening.

“Yeah, Y/N. Jungkook looks pretty desperate,” Hoseok remarks, again, oblivious to the tension lingering in the air.

“Jungkook can handle himself very well. He doesn’t need my help.” Even though Jimin feels your menacing glare and sees your jaw clench, this boy is very brave and insists:

“Come on, Y/N! It won’t hurt.” He says innocently.

Yes, it will hurt. It already hurts, dumbass.

“Did you guys forget that we’re here to work? I don’t want to be reprimanded.”

“The hall is near empty. There’s literally nothing to do anymore.” Hoseok doesn’t understand why you’re glaring at him now.

You’re trying to control your nerves, but it’s getting hard not to feel your stomach jump in a weird way and your fingertips tremble. Just the idea of approaching him makes you weak, and not in a good way. Why these people can’t just leave you alone?!

“Do you think that avoiding him forever will work?” Jimin hisses on your ear, low enough so only you can listen, finally showing how pissed he really is.

What he says gets you.

Avoiding each other isn’t working, you know this very well. You remember the way you used to deal with things in the past - talking. Sure, you won’t be able to really talk right now, but at least you’ll have a chance to approach him.

You don’t want to. You really don’t. But at the same time, you want to. You miss Jungkook.

Besides, he can’t run away from you in this situation.

You take a deep breath and gulp, trying to ease the tension. Come on. I know Jungkook. He’s the same bastard I’ve known my whole life. Stop being a pussy. I’m not a pussy!

“Just to make clear,” you whisper back to Jimin. “I fucking hate you.”

“You love me.” You wish you could rip that triumphant smirk off his face.

You walk over to the dance floor.

The few couples dance slowly and intimately. Because of course it had to be a slow dance. Of course it had to be a romantic song. Haha. Of course. The Universe must be playing some trick on you.

Jungkook managed to run away from the girl, trying to hide in the corner of the hall, and she’s searching for him like a hawk. You wonder if she’s this drunk or if she’s just stupid. A guy literally running away from you isn’t already a message enough?

You walk quickly to where he stands, and the moment Jungkook turns around and lays his eyes on you, shock covers his features.

“Y/N-?”

“Quick, dance with me,” you say hurriedly, placing his hands on your waist. “She’s coming.”

Instead of questioning, Jungkook immediately starts to play along as you place your own hands on his shoulders. You discreetly watch when the girl finally finds you.

She stops on her tracks.

“She saw us?” He asks without looking back.

“Yes.”

“And?”

You see fire in her eyes.

“If she had a gun, she’d probably shoot me.” The girl looks outraged that you stole her chance to grind on him. “Oh, she’s turning away.”

Jungkook sighs in relief. “Thanks God. She’s been bothering me all night!” You can’t help but giggle.

For a millisecond, it feels like nothing has changed.

But then you look at each other for the first time.

It might be dramatic, but you almost feel that the temperature drops around you.

Oh shit.

You avoid each other’s gazes at the same time. It feels so tremendously awkward to be in front of him again - especially when you’re slow dancing in the dim light of the hall, almost hidden. It feels uncomfortably intimate. Especially because you’re both keeping a distance that normal couples wouldn’t. You probably look like a weird couple at a prom party that were forced to dance together.

It feels foreign.

The way you touch each other doesn’t feel right. You have touched each other in the most intimate and obscene ways, yet the simple touch of his hands on your waist doesn’t feel right. Despite this, you feel your blood boiling with a strange type of excitement; you missed him so damn much. Even in this uncomfortable situation, you can’t help but feel a little bit happy. You didn’t know you’ve been craving for his touch so much up until now.

What’s weird is that you don’t even feel like this in a sexual way. You’re not aroused. Considering how your relationship became strictly sexual these past months, your lack of arousal to be around him is weird.

The butterflies in your stomach and the way your hands are shaking a little bit is also weird.

For some moments, you just sway from side to side in an overwhelming silence. You have no choice but to listen intently to the song being played. As if you already don’t feel fucked up enough, you’re forced to listen to a love song - an 80s love song on top of that. Of course it has to be Is This Love by Whitesnake. Of course. Haha.

“Uhm… thanks.” Jungkook finally breaks the silence. His voice lacks confidence. He probably never talked to you like this.

“Just helping out a friend,” you say and instant regret smashes you. You don’t know if he’s still your friend.

Jungkook looks scarily annoyed for a second. “A friend. Sure.”

Is it inappropriate to notice how he looks handsome when he clenches his jaw?

Honestly, has Jungkook always been this handsome?

Sure, he has always been like this. Maybe not seeing him in a long time made you feel this way. His hair has grown a lot. He looks extra fine in this suit. Every man looks better in a suit, but Jungkook looks like a deity.

The butterflies in your stomach are going crazy.

You did miss him a lot.

The silence makes you pay attention to the song again.

Wasted days and sleepless nights

But I can’t wait to see you again…

Hah, I know how it feels, you think - what makes you widen your eyes, shocked with your own thoughts. No. You won’t suddenly relate to a cliche 80s love song.

Right?

“H-How’s school going?” You stutter. Are you trying to do small talk? For real?

“It’s doing fine,” he simply says. Oh fuck. Not good. He sounds so uninterested in your weak attempt at engaging a conversation it hurts. You came here to try and talk about what really matters, but you don’t feel ready to do it yet. Can’t he understand it?!

It looks like your presence bothers him, honestly.

That’s new.

Wow. Your heart suddenly feels clenched.

Awkward.

Why am I feeling this way?

A heavy silence weighs on you again. This isn’t going as planned - not that you planned anything in the first place. You’re going through a lot of weird sensations now.

Why is that?

You look at Jungkook timidly (timid and Jungkook are two words that used to not make any sense together in the past), but he doesn’t look back. You avoid his gaze again.

Being hit by a truck would hurt less.

What’s happening?

Why are you so damn confused?

When the song hits its chorus, you start to think the Universe is definitely playing with you. The deep voice of the singer floats in the air:

Is this love

That I’m feeling?

Is this the love

That I’ve been searching for?

Fuck you, Whitesnake.

For real.

Fuck. You.

“Did Taehyung ask you?”

This brings you back to reality in an instant.

“What?” You look at him, confused. Why is he talking about Taehyung of all people out of nowhere?

You’ve always been very good at reading Jungkook, but right now, he’s unreadable.

“So he didn’t.” He says blatantly, devoid of any emotion. “I thought he would have already.”

“What are you talking about?”

“He talked to me about a double date.” Jungkook replies, looking back at you for the first time - again, a blank face. “You and him, me and Joy.”

Your blood honestly feels like frost.

It’s like you lost the ability to move or talk for a moment. You blink and gulp, trying to keep composed.

“What? Why?”

“Because he said it’d be fun. And less awkward, since I’m not very close to Joy yet and you’re not very close to him.”

Again, you don’t say anything for long seconds.

“But we’d just be cockblocking each other during the whole date,” you say.

“I know. I think the idea of a double date sounds weird, too. It’s not as if we don’t know them.”

You remember what Taehyung texted you earlier today; he said he’d ask something later. Is he going to ask you out?

He thinks that, since you and Jungkook are best friends, you could ease the tension and even help each other out.

This is so fucked up.

The immediate answer that comes to your mind is no. You don’t want to go on a date with Taehyung when you’re not interested in him. It’d be cruel; you don’t want to keep his hopes high.

But as you’re about to say it, you stop.

What if Jungkook wants to go?

All this time, you’ve only been considering your feelings. Your confusion, your wishes - it’s always about you. You don’t know if you want to be just Jungkook’s friend, but you don’t know if he wants to be more than a friend - or if he wants to be your friend at all. The fuck buddies thing started because you asked. Not even once did you think about him.

Is this what Jimin meant when he asked you to not play with Jungkook’s feelings?

How selfish you’ve been acting all this time?

What if he’s been developing feelings for Joy and now decided to try something? He’s probably feeling hurt because you’ve not been acting like a good friend. You’re always putting yourself first.

That’s why you hear yourself asking:

“Do you want to go?”

It’s scary how every tiny little piece of you wishes he’ll say no.

But Jungkook tilts his head and says:

“Yes. I know it sounds weird, but we can part ways as soon as we get there.”

And this is the moment you feel as cold as you’ve never felt in your life.

It’s as if your ears got obstructed for a moment, because you can’t hear anything but your heartbeat. You can’t even see properly for a second. Yet, you ignore all that, gulp and nod.

It’s time to be a good friend for once.

It’s time to put Jungkook’s wishes first - even though it crushes your heart.

“Okay.” You say quietly.

You’re coming to the conclusion that you’re a walking disaster.

You’ve never been so nervous before a date in your life - but this is not the usual type of nervousness, when people are excited to meet their crush and impress them etc etc. You’re nervous because you don’t want to go. You thought of coming up with a thousand excuses (from the classical “I’m sick :(” to “Seulgi’s sick I gotta take care of her :(” to “my cat’s sick :(” but then you remembered you don’t have a cat to “I’m being chased by the police and I gotta leave the country :(”), but in the end, you couldn’t bring yourself to lie.

Not when Taehyung sounded so painfully happy when you said you’d go.

That’s why you should have said no: Taehyung doesn’t deserve this. He’s a good person and he will certainly get hurt when you tell him you’re not interested. Who cares about Jungkook? That fucker can go on a date by himself, he’s not a kid anymore.

But…

There’s something very tiny and mean inside of you called jealousy that didn’t let you simply text an honest apology to Taehyung.

And now it’s too late, because he’s standing at your door.

Handsome as always, Taehyung wears casual clothes: it’s almost as if he didn’t put much thought on it, but he still looks drop dead gorgeous on his black baggy pants, white shirt and black beret (no other man in this planet can manage to not look stupid in a beret other than Taehyung). As usual, your brain malfunctions as it tries to process his beauty.

He has a small, beautiful smile on his lips.

Shit.

“You look beautiful,” he says, and he sounds like he means it. You did put some effort on your clothes, makeup and hair after all. Being complimented by him feels nice.

Shit.

“Thanks. You too, but that’s just your usual self,” you say thoughtlessly and instant regret slaps your face again. Yes, bitch. Flirt with him. Make things more difficult.

Taehyung looks shy for a moment. The sight is endearing.

S. H. I. T.

“You’re just being nice to me.” He tilts his head. “So, let’s go?"

It’s too late to go back now, so you have no choice but to take his arm and show your most plastic smile. "Yeah.”

You’re definitely a walking disaster.

You two arrive in the park first and, instead of just showing your tickets and getting in, you’re forced to wait for the bastard and his hot date.

An amusement park of all places.

Not that you hate amusement parks, it’s pretty much the opposite. It’s just that everything feels so wrong. Especially how Taehyung is making a lot of effort to keep the conversation alive while you wait. It’s not hard to talk to him, though, because he’s an interesting person, but seeing his efforts hurts.

What hurts more is the sight of Jungkook and Joy arriving with locked arms.

You hope Taehyung didn’t notice you holding your breath.

Joy looks hot as always, but you don’t even look at her (yes, it’s not nice to be mad at someone that didn’t do anything wrong), eyes glued on Jungkook instead. Just like Taehyung, it seems that he didn’t put much thought on his clothes, only their styles are completely different: Jungkook wears an oversized grey t-shirt, black pants and sneakers. It might seem simple, but he can manage to look good in anything. Joy surely didn’t mind his choice of clothes.

You lock gazes for one second and proceed to avoid it.

The four of you greet. It’s hard to act natural, but you try to; you don’t want the two others to notice the weird tension between you and the black-haired bastard. Joy looks happy, too.

…

Shit.

Soon, you get into the amusement park. As expected, it’s crowded with kids, families and couples. The weather feels nice this afternoon.

“It’s been a long time since I don’t come to an amusement park,” you confess.

“Really? Then this was a good choice. I was worried if it’d be too cheesy…” he also confesses sheepishly.

“It’s not!” You reassure him. Joy agrees with you. Jungkook keeps silent. “I just have some traumatizing memories about amusement parks.”

Taehyung quirks one eyebrow. “What?”

You sigh.

You and Jungkook end up saying in unison:

“5th grade.”

You look at each other and avoid your gazes again.

“What? What happened on 5th grade?” Joy asks excitedly.

“Our school came to an amusement park that year,” Jungkook explains.

“Why was it traumatizing?” Taehyung still seems confused.

“Because… well…” you hesitate to say.

“Because she was so short back then that they didn’t let her go on the rollercoasters. And she cried the whole trip,” Jungkook suddenly says.

You glare at him.

He has a playful smirk on his lips.

“Oh, so what about you?” You can’t help but smile, too.

“What happened to him?” Joy asks.

“He laughed at me because I couldn’t ride, but he puked his lunch after he went on the coaster and spent half of the trip in the infirmary,” you reveal.

“You’re still bitter that you stayed with me in the infirmary?” He inquires.

“Of course I am! Also, you puked on my shoes!”

“I already apologized. Besides, I paid you banana milk for two entire weeks. Isn’t it enough?”

“It isn’t!”

“Are you saying that banana milk isn’t enough?!” He gasps. “You psycho.”

You both giggle.

Again, for one moment, it feels that everything is back to normal. You feel comfortable having these old memories, as if you never stopped being best friends, as if you have the intimacy to play like this again.

But it’s only for one moment.

You avoid gazes. It feels so out of place.

At least the sadness in Jungkook’s eyes shows that he feels the same about this all.

Before the tension between you two can become too strong, you change the topic and engage both Taehyung and Joy in the conversation - during that moment, you two forgot about them. As wrong as it is, Taehyung is your date for the night. He’s the one you should pay attention to.

So you try to completely ignore Jungkook’s existence for a while.

You only look at Taehyung and don’t even touch your phone. You answer his questions and ask things about him. It doesn’t feel like a punishment, though, because he is an interesting person and you genuinely enjoy his company.

But you can’t help but look at Jungkook from time to time.

You can’t help but notice his smiley-eyes as he looks at her. You can’t help but see their closure.

You can’t help but feel your heart clenching.

And then, you see yourself locking your arm with Taehyung’s.

“What’s that?” You say excitedly. “I wanna see it!”

You drag Taehyung away from the other couple until they disappear in the crowd. Only then you remember how to breathe again.

Considering all the odds, this going better than you expected.

You tried your best to completely erase Jungkook’s and Joy’s existence from your mind, and at some point it finally worked. Taehyung is a funny guy to be around. There’s something very particular and endearing about his personality that captivates you; he’s obviously trying to impress you, but he’s still being very honest. He has some type of innocence that makes you realize that this guy is seriously one of a kind. You can’t think of a single sign that he might be a bad person.

You’re genuinely enjoy this.

But not in the way Taehyung expects you to be enjoying it.

As wrong as it is, you unconsciously end up comparing him to Jungkook.

If Jungkook was your date, the first thing you’d both want to do is try all the rollercoasters and the wildest rides in this park. But Taehyung is scared of heights. You didn’t want to make the boy vomit his own stomach, so you ended up avoiding it - even though you really wanted to go on that orange coaster that looks high as fuck.

Taehyung didn’t really get your jokes. The fact that he still laughed politely is cute, but still - Jungkook and you have the same sense of humor. You two like the same stupid type of meme. It felt strange when you had to explain more than once a certain joke so Taehyung could understand.

Taehyung didn’t know your favorite ice cream flavor or your favorite soda. He doesn’t know the kind of movie you like, nor your favorite series, nor your favorite singers. You know you’re being stupid - the whole point of going on a date is to get to know each other, but every now and then you end up remembering how Jungkook knows every dumb detail about you…

What makes you realize that, as much as Taehyung is an amazing guy, you are too different from each other.

What also makes you realize that, maybe… you don’t really want to get to know anyone else.

And suddenly, an image starts to build in your mind - an image you try very hard to erase, but it’s already too strong to be forgotten.

Instead of Taehyung, you arm is locked with Jungkook’s. You’re both laughing and having fun, just like things used to be. Only now you’re not just friends.

It’s the first time in all these years that you see yourself dating Jungkook clearly. Painfully clearly.

The cotton candy you’re eating suddenly tastes like iron on your tongue. You feel your throat tightening. All of this became painful. The fact that you’re trying so hard to forget Jungkook for a few minutes, yet he’s everything you can think of. The fact that he’s in the same park as you having a date with another girl - said girl that is a friend, by the way, someone you encouraged to be with Jungkook, and now you’re hating her existence even though she did nothing wrong, all because of jealousy. There’s also the fact that Jungkook is much obviously avoiding you.

And the most painful fact of all-

“Are you okay, YN?” Taehyung asks, the smile vanishing from his lips the moment he sees your expression.

The fact that this incredible person likes you much more than you expected. It’s obvious now that you look at his eyes. He really likes you - a funny, smart and special guy, someone that didn’t check his phone not even once ever since this date started, someone that has been trying his hardest to make sure you’re having fun, a guy that is usually very confident, but at the moment looks very uneasy around you.

He’s the perfect guy. He wasn’t disrespectful, wasn’t trying to get into your pants, treated you very well. You went on dates that were far worse than this. There was nothing wrong with him. You’re also sure he’d be a loving and caring boyfriend.

But all you can think of is Jungkook.

And even though you knew this date wouldn’t work, you still accepted to come anyway. You kept Taehyung’s hopes high. Just because you were jealous.

You’re definitely the worst person on this planet.

But this has to end before Taehyung gets more hurt.

“I’m not feeling very well,” you hear yourself saying. Worry covers Taehyung’s features. “What’s the problem? Was it something you ate? Do you want to go to the infirmary?”

Damn. It hurts to see him like this.

“No. Can you… can you just take me home, please?” You ask sheepishly.

If Taehyung feels disappointed, he doesn’t let you see; he just nods instead. “Okay. Let’s go.”

And this is how you managed to destroy a perfectly fine night.

You still try not to think of Jungkook and Joy on your way back home; you don’t want to know if they’re still in the park or if they went somewhere else. The idea of what they must be doing makes your stomach twirl in a bad way. It feels like a weight installed itself on your shoulders. Everything seems too oppressive and suffocating. You can’t wait to be alone and peaceful to process all of these feelings. Fortunately, Seulgi isn’t home - she went to sleep at a friend’s house to finish a project.

For the first time, being with Taehyung feels awkward as you walk to the front door of your apartment. You can see he isn’t exactly glad. It makes everything worse.

You stop in front of the door and you turn around to face him. Everything you have to say must be said now.

“I’m so sorry, Taehyung.” You say in an embarrassed tone, scratching the back of your neck. “I ruined everything.”

“What? No!” He’s quick to reassure. God, his eyes are beautiful… “It’s not your fault. People feel ill, that’s normal.”

You gulp. Oh Gosh. He believed what you said. This is getting worse and worse… “I had a lot of fun today. Really.” You sigh and tilt your head tiredly. “Honestly, it was the most fun I had in a long time…”

“I had a lot of fun, too.” His smile is able to melt any frozen heart. “I noticed that you had a lot in mind, so I’m glad I was able to distract you at least a little.”

It gets you off guard.

He’s way more observant than you expected.

“You noticed…?” You gulp, even more embarrassed. He nods. “I’m so sorry…”

“It’s fine. Everyone has a bad day every now and then. I just have to admit that I’m kind of worried about you.”

You stare at each other in silence for a while.

“Are you?” Why suddenly all you can do is make stupid questions?

Taehyung tilts his head. “Yes. You’re always such a bright person. Seeing you being quiet these days makes me sad.” First of all: did people start to realize that there’s something wrong with you? Are you acting this weird?

Second of all: that was adorable. He’s so honest about his feelings.

“To be honest, Taehyung… I’m not really a bright person,” you end up confessing in a quiet, weak voice. You don’t know why you’re saying this. You were supposed to push him away, not pull him closer. “I think I’m just used to pretend I am.”

“You don’t have to,” your eyes widen when you feel his fingertips brushing on your cheek as he gently tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. “You don’t have to pretend you’re fine when you’re not. To suppress this type of feeling… it hurts. Believe me, I know.” For a moment, you feel your breath hitch. The skin where his fingers touched feels warm. He’s mesmerizing. His voice sounds like a sweet melody on your ears: deep, silky. “So, if you ever feel like opening up… I’m here, okay?” He widens his eyes for a second. “I-I mean- you can open up to Seulgi or Jungkook or Jimin, sure… anyone.”

This moment of shyness coming from him makes you giggle. “I don’t feel like opening up to anyone right now,” especially not to you, you think. “but thank you, Tae. It… it makes me really happy. I’m glad I went on this date with you.”

You shouldn’t have said that.

You shouldn’t have called him Tae.

Even though you’re saying the truth and there’s no second intentions hidden, Taehyung hears something else.

His hand is still resting on your cheek.

And he says nothing.

He just… stares right into your eyes.

You can’t move.

You clearly see when his face starts coming closer and closer to yours, slowly but surely. You see his heavy-lidded eyes, his clouded gaze, his parted lips. You feel the thick tension in the air around you - the electricity.

That’s when you should have pushed him away.

But you can’t.

Instead, you unconsciously close your eyes. You feel his lips ghosting over yours for a second - until his lips finally touch yours.

The kiss is suave - gentle and delicate. He doesn’t move his lips at first, merely pressing his against yours. Your body warms up in a way you haven’t felt in a long time; not because of arousal. It’s the pure excitement of being kissed.

Maybe that’s why you let him kiss you. You had forgotten how it feels like to be touched without any sexual intention. Kisses are too intimate, so you and Jungkook didn’t really kiss that often - and when you did kiss, it was always heated and obscene, tongues entangling wildly until both of you could barely breathe. It’s been a long time since someone kissed and held you like this: with gentleness and care. Taehyung isn’t treating you like a sex toy.

You melt.

Your lips part as he deepens the kiss; he is undemanding, careful and delicate. His lips taste like lip balm. No one is fighting for control, no one is desperate. It’s slow and synchronized. It’s sweet and innocent. Most importantly - it’s way different than you ever expected it to be. You never thought he’d kiss like this.

When Taehyung pulls away, the purest smile adorns his features.

“I’m sorry.” He says quietly, but he doesn’t sound sorry at all. “I should have asked permission.”

“It’s okay.” And it really is. You shouldn’t, but you liked it.

“I'll… I’ll get going.” He says, the smile never disappearing. His eyes are also smiling. He stands there awkwardly in an adorable manner. “Can I text you later?”

“Sure.” You nod. “Good night. And thank you again.”

Taehyung grins. “Good night.”

Before leaving, he presses his lips on yours quickly one last time.

You watch until he disappears inside the elevator, entering the apartment and standing there alone in the dark for a few seconds.

Then you unceremoniously slam your forehead against the wooden door.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” You hiss between gritted teeth. “What have you done?!”

You were supposed to push him away. You should have told him the truth - that you don’t have feelings for him, that you’re confused and almost certainly in love with another guy. Instead, you just stood there and let him kiss you. You not only kept his hopes high, you increased them.

How will you get yourself out of this situation now?!

You throw yourself on the couch, grab a cushion and scream into it. I’m the worst of the worst. I’m a walking catastrophe.

For a long time, you just lay there and torture yourself with bad thoughts. Taehyung is the nicest guy you’ve met in a really long time. If you gave him the opportunity months ago, you’re sure you’d be dating right now - and the idea isn’t even unpleasant. He’s hot and smart and funny and sweet. It’s even hard to believe that someone like him is interested in you.

But…

No. Don’t think about him.

You want to punch yourself and scream and eat tons of ice cream and cry - all at once. You’re the queen of taking bad decisions. You’re the heart crusher and friendship destroyer-

There’s someone knocking on the front door.

You sit up in a jump and frown. Is it Seulgi? Did she forget her keys?

You walk slowly around the living room, defeated as if you’ve just came home from war, your hair a mess and shoulders shrinking. You turn the doorknob and open it-

And gasp.

Because standing at your front door is the person you least expected to see.

Jungkook is casually leaning on the door frame as if his presence didn’t make you burst a lung. He looks down, eyes avoiding yours; although the hallway is considerably dark, you can see his expression well. You know him too well. You see sadness and guilt and fear in his eyes.

Your heart beats so fast that you’re afraid it’ll stop suddenly. Nervousness crawls over your skin and makes your stomach feel cold.

“J-Jungkook? What are you doing here?” You’re brave enough to stutter. You completely forgot that Jungkook used to come over so often that you gave him full permission to enter and leave the building whenever he wanted.

He doesn’t say anything.

Instead, he lifts his left hand and shows you what he’s carrying: a plastic bag full with a pack of…

Banana milk.

“I think we really need to talk.” He says quietly, his eyes meeting yours for the first time.

You inhale sharply.

He’s right. You need to talk.

The cold night breeze makes you tighten your coat around your body. Yours and Jungkook’s hairs sway softly with the wind. You can hear the sounds of the city from up here, in the empty terrace - cars, sirens, voices. A glowing map of endless streets and buildings extends itself in front of your eyes.

You’re both leaning on the railing side by side. You’re hyper aware of the distance between you - both physical and… spiritual. You’ve been standing here in silence for quite some time now, quietly drinking the banana milk he brought, and none of you were able to engage a conversation. The tension is heavy. It overwhelms your whole being. Nervousness makes your nerves tense. You can’t even look at him.

Dozens of questions float around your mind; what is he doing here? Why did he decide to come in the first place? What happened to his date? It’s still very early, he could have stayed with her much longer…

You also can’t help but feel helplessly excited that he is here. With you. Not with Joy. He took the initiative to meet you.

You can’t lose this opportunity.

“It’s kinda cold.” Is the first thing you say. It doesn’t even sound like you.

“Yeah.” He agrees, and he also doesn’t sound like him.

The awkwardness is almost solid right now. Things used to be so different… you can’t remember one moment in the past when such an uncomfortable feeling lingered between you.

“Hm…” you cough. “What, hm… what about you and Joy?”

Why the fuck are you asking this?, you yell at yourself.

Jungkook looks down and shakes his head. “Let’s not talk about Joy or Taehyung right now, okay?”

You shrug. “I’m just trying to start a conversation.”

“That’s not how you do it.”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t know how to do it anymore.”

Jungkook goes silent with this, the quick aggressiveness disappearing as soon as it came. He gulps and looks down at the banana milk between his fingers again.

More silence.

“Can I… can I ask you something?” Jungkook says after a long while. His voice is quiet, hesitant, almost being carried away with the wind.

“What?” You feel your body heating up in anticipation.

He finally looks up to you, and in the moment your eyes meet, you have this weird feeling that everything except him looks blurred.

“Why did you start dating Mike?” He asks. “I warned you about him. I mean, you used to listen to me in the past.”

Oh.

Certainly not the type of question you were expecting.

What a mood killer, Jungkook.

You avoid his gaze again, trying to hide your disappointment. “Why are you asking me this now?”

“I just really want to know.” He takes one more sip of the banana milk.

A sigh escapes through your lips and you stare at the shiny city ahead. You didn’t think you’d have to bring up memories of Mike. It’s been a long time, but it still hurts to remember him.

“I… I just…” you start, trying to organize your thoughts. “You know that Mike had like a… bad relationship with his parents, right?” Jungkook nods. “Mike opened up about this to me. I saw how much it hurt him. He was lonely, broken. And I…” this is being way harder than you expected. You shrug, shake your head. “I don’t know. I was just being my stupid self. I thought I could… I wanted to fix him. I realized that I have this heroine complex, you know?” You side eye him sheepishly. “But there are a lot of things I can’t fix… I’m better at breaking things, not fixing them.”

“Don’t say that. There’s nothing wrong with wanting to help people.” The confidence in which Jungkook says this makes, yet again, an odd sensation set in your stomach.

It is probably the first time Jungkook managed to make you blush in your entire life.

A little more silence.

“Did you actually like him?” You can barely hear his voice.

You have no idea why he’s making this questions. Why is he bringing up Mike after so long?

“Well… yes.” You can’t lie right now. “I did.” You make sure to reinforce the did. It’s in the past.

Jungkook nods and says nothing. He takes another banana milk from the plastic bag and opens it.

You inhale, building up your courage to ask something you’ve been wanting to know for a long time. He touched this subject anyway.

“You asked me something, now it’s my turn to ask you something.” Jungkook nods. You have the feeling that he already knows what’s coming. “Why did you break up with Yeri?”

“She broke up with me.”

Oh.

“Why?” You repeat. You can see that Jungkook gets clearly uncomfortable, but you’re not letting him go without an answer - and he already knows how stubborn you can be, too. He shifts, tilts his head, exhales heavily.

“It just didn’t work out.”

“But you liked her. And she liked you, too.” It was pretty obvious to anyone that saw them together.

Jungkook takes a long while to speak again. “I did like her. A lot.” The way his voice sounds fragile surprises you. Seeing him like this is very rare. Jungkook isn’t one to get all emotional too often. It seems that confessing this to you is important to him, somehow.

It also scares you a tiny bit. What if Jungkook still likes her, just like you suspected in the past?

“I didn’t want things to end the way they did.” He continues. His eyes are far away, watching old memories. His shoulders seem tense. He fiddles with the small banana milk bottle between his fingers. “But… some things aren’t meant to be, it doesn’t matter how much you want them to.”

This answer sounds… way too vague. Not what you want to hear. You know there’s more behind their break up, but just by looking at Jungkook you see that he isn’t telling you anything else. Well, this is the most he ever said about his past relationship in almost one year. It’s better than nothing.

And back to silence.

You want to push this awkwardness away. But how? You don’t feel as close to Jungkook as you always were. It’s not as if you could simply say anything in this moment… especially because, somehow, you feel that Jungkook expects you to do something, even though he came all the way to your apartment just to talk.

Say something, goddamnit!

“I’m sorry.” you blurt out.

Jungkook looks at you, but you’re not strong enough to look back at him. You hold the tiny bottle so tightly that it might get smashed at any moment; that’s just how nervous you are.

“Sorry for what?” he asks quietly. You hear the expectation in his voice… almost as if he’s holding his breath.

You can’t help but gulp. I’m not good with this type of thing.

“For everything.” you hate the way your voice sounds so damn fragile. Being sincere like this is somehow… painful. But that’s what Jungkook expects of you: sincerity. So you keep talking, although you don’t know the right words to express yourself. “I… I don’t know why things got like this between us…” you almost gasp. “I mean, I know why. We know why. And I feel very responsible.”

“You have this habit of taking the blame to yourself, isn’t it?” He murmurs. Jungkook shakes his head softly and passes his hand on his hair.

“But I was the one to propose it in the first place.”

“And I agreed.”

“Okay, but…” you have to stop for a moment to recover your breath. “I don’t know, I just feel sorry. I didn’t think of anyone except me all along. I’ve been an awful person to you… and awful friend. Also…” you need to stop again. Why is it so hard to speak? It feels as if there’s something obstructing your throat; the words hardly come out. “What I did that day at Joy’s house… it was wrong. I’m sorry that I made you upset that day.”

Jungkook sighs heavily. You’re still scared to look at him.

“I’m sorry about that day, too. I was rude to you.” Is he apologizing for calling you a slut while you had sex in the bathroom? Well, you definitely didn’t care about that. “I feel sorry too, Y/N. The way we drifted apart from each other…” he gesticulates with his finger between you and him. “The fault is on us both. I already told you, you shouldn’t take all the responsibility to yourself. We were both stupid.”

“Very stupid.” you both chuckle. You feel your heart lightening up for a moment; that strong tension still hovers around you, but now it feels like a different type of tension. Seeing that tiny smile in Jungkook’s lips makes your heart race.

You finally look at each other.

The shadows of the night paint Jungkook’s face. His hair sways with the wind softly. His dark eyes shine as much as diamonds. You never really understood the expression “to get lost in someone’s eyes…”

Well… now you do.

The small moment you two share feels fragile… featherlight. You’re scared that if you say or do something wrong, it’ll break and disappear. You’re scared to break him. To break yourself. This makes you remember that, ever since you were kids, Jungkook has always been the most fragile of you two. He has always been the most sensitive, the one to get hurt easily. Jimin was right all along. How could you do this to him? Why did you let this happen between you two?

“I missed you.” your voice is barely a whisper. Admitting this makes you feel exposed and relieved at the same time. Your throat feels even tighter.

“I missed you, too.” he confesses.

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too.”

You smile at each other.

That’s the moment you almost confess something more… your confused feelings for him. You feel the urge to say that you don’t see him as just a friend anymore; that you don’t want to be just a friend anymore.

But something holds you back.

This is maybe the moment when you’re finally being able to reconcile. You don’t know if Jungkook feels the same about you; you don’t want to push him away by throwing your feelings over him. This might destroy you friendship forever.

Then, you decide to keep it all to yourself. At least for now.

“So,” Jungkook says, sighing. “What about that group project?”

You quirk one eyebrow up. “I’m pretty sure you know about the group project.”

Jungkook giggles. “Jimin has been annoying you, too?” you nod. He shakes his head. “He’s a little shit, isn’t he?”

“Yes. He had good intentions, at least.” You shrug.

“He could be a little more subtle, though.” You can’t help but agree. “Congratulations for getting the highest grade.”

“Thank you. Jimin also told me that you’ve been talking to some important people…”

Jungkook smiles beautifully with this. “Yes. It’s a director. He said that he likes my work and that I have talent. I think he’ll invite me to work with him as a trainee for a while.” Your eyes widen in a surprised expression.

“Really?! That’s great, Kook!” It feels so nice to call him Kook again after so long. Slowly, you feel that unbearable tension vanishing and all that’s left is you and him. Two people that know each other better than you know yourselves for most of your lives. In a matter of seconds, the distance that put you apart for months seems to disappear.

Suddenly, you feel a cold drizzle start falling over your heads. Jungkook frowns. “I think we should get down there.”

“Yes.” Before you can think better, you blurt out: “You can sleep here if you want.” Perhaps you shouldn’t have said that, because Jungkook’s frown deepens as he stares at you with suspicion. A shiver of fear runs down your spine. “Hey, that’s not what I mean.” You’re quick to say, waving your hands. “Before this sex thing started there was just us, remember? I… I miss us.”

Jungkook thinks for some moments, his eyes never leaving yours.

Then, a tiny smile makes its way to his lips - and you’re happy to see that the smile reaches his eyes, too. “Okay.”

“Wait- so Irene and Jennie made up?” Jungkook asks from the kitchen, surprised.

“That’s what it looks like. I mean, they did post some photos together on Instagram.” you say while adjusting the pillows and blankets on the mattress you placed in the living room. Yours’ and Seulgi’s friends come to sleep over a lot, so you’re used to do it - you even bought some spare sheets and blankets for this occasion.

“But you can’t be sure that they are together just because of some photos.”

“Yeah, but you know Seulgi. She jumped to conclusions. Being honest, they don’t look like a couple in these photos… but I don’t think there’s anything I can say that will change her mind at this point. I tried everything.”

“I don’t really think that they’ll make up this time.” Jungkook admits. You walk over to the kitchen and lean on the counter, opposite to him.

“I feel bad for her. Seulgi still loves Irene and she can’t get over it. I think it’s the first time she spends the night out in a long while… and it isn’t even to have fun. I’m worried.”

He pouts and shrugs, eyes focused in building up his sandwich. “Maybe we should just let her figure things out by herself.”

“But she’s doing nothing.”

Jungkook stops adding ketchup just to stare at you and quirk his eyebrows. “Y/N. I think I already said that you should stop trying to be a cupid, like… a million times.”

“I didn’t say I’d do something!” You do your best to sound offended.

“I know you, woman. I’ve seen this face many times. You look like an evil gremlin.”

“I don’t!” you cross your arms. You forgot how annoying it is that Jungkook knows you so well, because you did think of doing something to help her. You’re so tired of seeing you friend being sad all the time. All she does these days is watch Netflix and complain. She already started to look like a zombie at this point. No one can blame you for being concerned. “Besides, gremlins are cute.”

“You’re the only person on this planet that thinks this.” He shakes his head slightly, his hair waving in the process.

“Why did you let your hair grow so much?” You ask, resting your chin over your palm.

“Because I look good with long hair.” Jungkook shrugs, a smug smirk on his face.

“You cocky little shit.”

“Am I wrong for telling the truth?” He looks up at you again, playful. You can’t even tell he’s wrong: that long hair really matches his looks and personality.

“Hey, are you still helping Namjoon and Yoongi?” you ask when Jungkook starts to make a fourth sandwich. Yes, you guys do eat a lot.

“Yeah. I haven’t been to the studio in a few days, but they still call me whenever they need me.” Jungkook presses his lips together and shifts a little: nervousness. “I… I kind of helped them write a song.”

“Really? But you said you were just ‘lending’ them your voice to record demos.”

“Yeah, but I felt kind of inspired. It was just for fun, though.” He shifts his eyes to you then back to the sandwich very rapidly. “Maybe I’ll let you listen to it any other day.”

“Aw, come on! I’ve been wanting to listen to your songs for so long!” you whine.

“I said maybe. When the right time comes.”

You don’t really get what he means with it.

For a while, you just sit there and watch Jungkook. He looks so carefree and relaxed; he moves around the kitchen as if it’s his own house. He knows where everything is in the cabinets. In a way, this really is his second house considering how often he comes… even when he used to come just to fuck during these past months. It feels so nice to see him not being all tensed up and uncomfortable around you anymore. He even starts to sing quietly, his voice as sweet and smooth as cotton candy filling up the entire house. You’re one of the few people that Jungkook feels confident enough to sing around. It’s almost a privilege.

You have been staring at him unceremoniously for so long that Jungkook frowns and looks back at you, frowning. “What?”

“Nothing.” You shake your head. “It’s just that… Namjoon is right. You could’ve been famous with this voice.” Jungkook smiles shyly. “And this face.” He turns around to open the fridge. “And this ass.”

He frowns. “Seriously?”

“What? I’m being honest. And don’t act like you don’t stare at my ass all the time.”

Jungkook chuckles and shakes his head in that way that means I can’t stand you.

“Done.” He claps his hands together. Four giant sandwiches, coke, popcorn and m&ms (let’s say that you and Seulgi don’t have exactly the healthier type of food at home).

“Okay. I’ll take these, get changed first if you want,” you say while taking the plates to the living room. Of course there would be some of his clothes at your place.

When Jungkook sees the clothes you chose, he stares at you with an outraged expression. “My grey hoodie!”

“…yes.”

“You said you didn’t know where it was!”

You stop and click your tongue. “…funny how I found it at the bottom of my drawer tonight, huh?”

He knows you’re lying. But you won’t tell him that slept wearing his hoodie some nights because it smelled like him. He doesn’t need to know this.

“Hoodie thief.” He says and taps your head jokingly, making his way to the bathroom. You’re wearing sleeping clothes as well - and you made sure to choose your ugliest and largest ones. You don’t want Jungkook to think you asked him to sleep here just to end up having sex.

He comes back and throws himself on the mattress by your side. You’re very aware of the immense space between you; another person could fit in here. “What are we going to watch?”

“I think I’ve watched the entire Netflix catalogue at this point because of Seulgi.” you admit, shoving popcorn inside your mouth. Jungkook takes your phone and scrolls down the Netflix page.

“There’s always something more to watch.”

You end up arguing about what movie to watch. Actually, you spend more time arguing and scrolling down through the Netflix endless catalogue than watching something.

You don’t touch each other not even once. The physical distance almost feels like a living being.

You end up giving up on Netflix and watching Avengers Endgame for the hundredth time anyway.

And yes - Jungkook cries at the ending of the film.

You wake up with the sunlight touching your face.

It’s awful. You close your eyes tightly and yawn, a little bit confused at first. What am I doing in the living room? You search for your phone to check the hour: it’s seven in the morning. Shit. Whenever you can sleep until late hours, you end up waking up early…

You turn your head to the side and freeze.

It’s Jungkook.

Now you remember everything. The TV is still on, which means both of you fell asleep while watching it. The empty plates and glasses are placed over the coffee table.

You never slept together before.

There was only one time when it happened - the first and only, when you two got wasted and the whole story started. Other than that, you never slept together. First, because you had more interesting things to do other than sleep. Second, because sleeping together feels way too intimate. It didn’t matter how tired you were after fucking, when you finished cleaning up, you’d both put your clothes back on and walk back to your respective homes. You vehemently avoided doing anything that might feel too intimate - kissing, sleeping together… after a while, you even avoided looking at each other right in the eye while having sex.

You’re not touching; there is still a great space between your bodies. Yet… just the thought that you slept with Jungkook makes your heart race.

You don’t move a single centimeter. You just lay there and… look at him.

His long hair is a mess. His face is adorably puffy, lips slightly parted. He looks peaceful. The way his chest moves up and down as he breathes is hypnotizing.

He’s seriously so beautiful.

But now, you don’t think of it in a sexual way. Back then, you’d always admire how hot Jungkook is, his godlike physique, how lucky you were to be having sex with a guy like him… not now. You just feel mesmerized by his features. The long eyelashes touching his cheeks. The tiny moles on his face and neck. Some old acne scars.

It’s odd, but right now, you realize just how much you’ve been missing him. It doesn’t make sense - Jungkook is right here, barely an arm apart from you. You made up last night and it seems that everything is back to normal. Still, you desperately miss him.

Your chest fills up with something strange and unknown. It’s sweet and painful. It makes your heart feel tight, your nerves feel like burning and your eyes well up with tears.

This is the face of the person that has been with you during most of your life.

He’s a part of you.

The most important part of you.

In this moment, your feelings for him are so great that it seems that they can’t even fit inside of you anymore.

You watch him sleep for a long time, too scared to move and wake him up. But eventually, he sighs heavily and moves his head, indicating he’s about to wake up.

His eyes finally open and he yawns.

“Good morning.” He says when his eyes focus on you, smiling softly. Jungkook’s voice sounds deep and raspy. He stretches his arms over his head. “I mean… if it’s still morning.”

“It is,” you say softly.

He stares at the ceiling with heavy-lidded eyes. “I dreamed that babies came from eggs. Like ostrich eggs.” He chuckles. “And women gave birth to the eggs like chickens.”

You don’t say anything and just keep watching him instead.

Jungkook finally turns his head at you and frowns, still smiling softly. “What?”

“Nothing.” You say so quietly that he can barely hear.

He gazes back at you.

Slowly, the smile on his lips disappears.

You feel the tension building up around you - but this time it feels different. It’s not a bad tension like what you experienced last night at the terrace, nor is it dense like when you two were aroused and desperate to find a place and please yourselves. This time, it feels delicate but heavy nevertheless. It makes your blood boil and your heart race.

Jungkook’s eyes are serious, heavy and intense over you. All the playfulness is gone. None of you say a word. You don’t even know if you have the power to move considering how heavy the tension is.

He extends his arm and his fingertips touch your cheek. Your skin feels burning hot. Delicately, he puts a strand of hair behind your ear. It’s strange how he’s doing the exact same thing Taehyung did, but with Jungkook, this simple touch made you feel like exploding right there.

Jungkook is the one to come closer. Closer and closer and closer. Your breathing is heavy. He caresses your cheek his his thumb. Soon, his face is right in front of yours - noses touching, eyes locked and burning with something you can’t quite name.

You stare at each other like this for a moment until his gaze finally drops to your mouth.

You both lean in for the kiss at the same time.

You have already tasted these lips multiple times before - but now, it’s different. The kiss is slow; you move your lips unhurriedly and sweetly. Yet, this kiss feels much more intense than any other you have shared before. None of those times when you kissed him desperately with luxury being the only thing on your mind comes even close to the intensity of this kiss.

It almost feels that this is the actual first time you kiss Jungkook.

Your breathing gets even heavier as the kiss deepens. His hand rests on your waist, while yours hold his neck. The sloppy sounds of your lips and tongues moving together are the only audible thing in the apartment. Your whole being screams in excitement and anticipation when Jungkook moves his body to hover over yours, not even once breaking the kiss. Your right hand grabs his smooth hair while the other travels up and down his back; your body is getting burning hot. Jungkook moans very softly. You start to feel the familiar wetness on your panties.

Jungkook leans away for a moment; his lips are red and swollen, his hair is even messier now, his dark eyes are clouded with want and something you can’t name - something so strong that he’s able to make you shiver with that look alone. He leans down again and starts to kiss and suck your neck very slowly, making soft moans escape through your lips. His hand sneaks under your baggy shirt and he squeezes your breast. Soon, his lips are on yours again and the kiss becomes much deeper. You can already feel sweat forming on your forehead. Jungkook starts to grind on you; you can clearly feel his clothed erection rub against your own core, what makes more and more strangled moans come from both of you.

This is the hottest make out session of your life. The entire atmosphere is not what you’re used to; it’s not playful, none of you say a word. No teasing, no dirty talk. All you do is try to touch each other the best you can, never once breaking the kiss. It’s as if, with this kiss, you’re having a conversation… you’re telling each other everything you’re not brave enough to say out loud.

Soon, the desperation becomes too big. There’s no time to play, you just want to have him inside of you and feel his warm skin against yours. Unceremoniously, you start to undress yourselves, kissing every spot you can find in the process - neck, chest, stomach. Your clothes are thrown around the living room. You lay on your back again and Jungkook hovers above you once more, your legs entangling around his hips as he positions his hard member on your entrance.

You always avoided this position because it is too intimate; you’re forced to look at each other like this. This time, though, it doesn’t matter. You want to look at him - and the sight of his face contorting in pure pleasure, lips parted and eyes closed tightly as he eases himself inside of you, is almost as good as the feeling of being stretched after a long time.

Jungkook doesn’t move at first. He knows he’ll hurt you if he goes too hard right from the beginning. Instead, he waits until you call his name quietly in a strangled moan - the sign he needs to start thrusting. He rests his head on your shoulder and grabs the pillow under your head tightly as he picks up his pace, slow and steady, soft groans coming from the back of his throat that make you feel goosebumps. You hold his back with both hands. You can’t shut the moans anymore.

Sweat makes your skin slippery as he thrusts faster. Jungkook licks and bites your ear, moaning right into it, and it feels that this alone could make you cum. He then leans away for a moment, creating some space between your bodies to have a better angle to keep smashing himself into you - faster and faster, stronger and stronger. The usual sound of skin hitting skin, heavy breathing and moans is all you can hear.

You said that you didn’t ask him to sleep here just to have sex - and you weren’t lying.

But this doesn’t feel like just sex.

This isn’t fucking.

The pleasure is getting unsustainable and you both feel it. You close your legs around him even tighter and pull his face with both hands, sealing your lips in another intense, desperate kiss. It’s sloppy and unsynchronized. It’s raw and rough and so full of emotions you can’t comprehend that you feel your eyes tearing up again.

What you’re experiencing right now isn’t just two people finding pleasure in each other. It isn’t simply carnal instinct.

It is the deepest and most sincere way to connect with another being - without any words, through touches only.

You never felt anything like this in your life - not with Mike or any of your past boyfriends and hook ups. This is beyond lust. This is beyond sex.

Jungkook breaks the kiss apart for a second to look at you. Your gazes lock. God, he’s beautiful. Not only his appearance, but everything about him is beautiful.

And it is right now - stating deep into his eyes - that you come to a conclusion.

Jungkook has always been a part of you. But, in this exact moment, it feels like more.

It feels that you two became one.

He leans down and kisses you again. Your lips are tightly sealed when you both come at the same time.

Your trembling fingers still hold the strands of his damp hair tightly. You caress his face softly, putting some hair away from his eyes. Jungkook kisses you again. And again, and again, and again, and again.

You’re glad when he rests his head on your shoulder again, because like this, he can’t see the tears trickling down your temples.

It’s still hard to understand what just happened. Honestly, you think you’ll never fully understand.

But one thing you do understand, one thing that became as clear as the morning sky, is that your feelings for Jungkook are deeper and stronger than you ever imagined. He’s so much more than a friend.

Yet, you don’t know if he sees you the same way.

You don’t know if he felt the same things you did or if this was just one more time having sex with you. You don’t know if he still has feelings for Yeri or if he’s developing any for Joy.

You know nothing - and this fact makes your heart hurt as if it is being stabbed…

Because Jungkook, the best and most important part of you, might never be truly yours.

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