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#and it always sits a little higher or lower to set it apart from the other candles
inkdrinkerworld · 8 months
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going through some breakup blues rn😞😞😞
could i please have smth w dealer!remus?? maybe she’s had a shit week so she goes to buy and her and remus hangout and he finally makes a move on her
miss my boy (dealer!rem) ((and also my ex pls help me💀))
aw babe im sorry you broke up :(( i hope this lifts your spirits a little
remus stops breathing for a short second when you walk into his apartment that doubles as his dispensary. he's sure sirius had let you in on his way out and he finds that he doesn't mind.
not when you're wearing his jumper from the last time you were over and a mini skirt that makes your legs look stunning to him.
"remmy, i need three pre-rolls, please." you slump down into his sofa, head dropping to his lap with a familiar ease that makes both your hearts jump.
you'd always been affectionate with remus, but it had been hard determining what was okay and what wasn't at first. he'd hardly smiled when you did anything flirty or flambouyant, then you had learnt his little tells.
like now, his hand pets your head and then falls to your shoulder. a light pressure and heat that bleeds into your skin.
"three? you usually only take two," another tell. he's always listening, always picking up on what it is you're saying even if you don't think it's super obvious. "is something wrong?"
anyone watching you now would think remus is being his usual self, but his eyebrows are a little too close for it to be regular concern. you're sure if you told remus someone was messing with you he'd sort them out even if he said nothing in the moment.
you sigh, shutting your eyes when his fingers follow the curve of your neck to the back of your head. "just school and work. think i need a breather this weekend." you say it all in one breath, relaxing into remus even more when he begins applying pressure to the base of your skull.
"how about you share mine with me and i give you two to take home?" remus pulls a pre-roll from his pocket and holds it out to you. "i'll give you the majority," he dangles the offer in your face and you smile.
"okay," remus lights it for you, taking the initial drag before handing it off to you. "thanks remmy."
you only sit up halfway, leaning into remus as you take hit after hit. your eyes go droopy, head feeling heavier and lighter at the same time as you pass of the quarter of the blunt that's left to remus.
"you wanna talk about it?" he asks around the blunt, watching you lay your head back into his lap and reach for the soft blanket that remus keeps on his sofa.
"not much to say, everyone thinks i'm disposable and that i'm just good for sex. it can wear you down." the way you say it makes remus frown.
"that's not all you're good for," he says it with enough conviction that your eyes set on him. "you're not just sex and those people are knobheads for thinking that."
you give remus a smile, a bright smile that makes his heart warm. he can't really imagine people only seeing you for your body, you're an incredibly astonishing person outside of that. but he knows how people think, and he's more sorry than anything else that you were victim to that thinking.
"i know you don't think that remmy, you're one of the best guys i know." you kiss the wrist of the hand that's back to working at the base of your neck.
"really?" he stubs out the blunt as he looks down at you, pulling the blanket higher up your hips as he sinks lower into the sofa.
"yes really, i know you wouldn't act like they did. i know you respect me."
remus smiles a bright smile even for him. both corners of his lips pull up even if only a touch.
"of course i do, you're the best person i know too dovey." he kisses your forehead before laying his head back against the sofa.
"do you think we'd date remus?" you ask after a couple beats of silence.
his breath hitches and he hopes you don't feel it. "maybe i'm waiting till i get a reservation to take you out," you twist in his lap, sitting up quickly. the movement causes your skirt to bunch up and remus brushes it down flat as you lean into him.
it causes remus to lean back, back pressed into the sofa as you hover over him. "you're going to take me out somewhere fancy?"
he laughs then, soft and low but it still sounds happy and like remus. "i can't take a pretty girl like you just anywhere, can i? gotta show you off, dovey." he pulls you over him completely, letting you lay on him. the blanket covers you both soon after.
"you're nicer than you let people think remmy," you rub your face into the his chest, nose breathing in his pine and mint scent that's fogged up with a little smoke.
"get some sleep, i think your memory is murky." you laugh softly in his chest, especially when remus pinches your hip. it's different being with remus, he's earnest in everything he does concerning you and it feels good- to be acknowledged in the way that he acknowledges you.
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writeforfandoms · 1 year
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Waking Lions 1
Find the series masterlist
Eventual John Price x f!reader. Buckle up people, this is a slow burn. 
A few things to know: reader is an independent intelligence agent, morally gray, bisexual, and has some backstory. You’ll learn what you need to know. Primary codename is Ace, but has a couple others. 
This first chapter is setting the scene and giving you all a start on learning about this mess. We do mess a bit with timelines - this starts before MW 2019. 
Warnings: Swearing, flirting, mischief. 
Word count: 2.2k
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You hummed to yourself as you walked to the meet point. By now, this was all standard for you - meet up with some underling, pass along the information, wait for payment, and be on your way. 
It was a system that worked well for both parties and had for years. Since you'd discovered you could make a living at this. 
But only if you were careful. 
Which is why you arrived at the meet point a full twenty minutes early. You picked a table out on the patio and ordered a coffee while you waited. It was a lovely day, after all. 
And when someone dropped into the seat across from you fifteen minutes later, you smiled to yourself. 
And then you looked at the man. 
Oh, this one was good. Big and broad, that much you could tell even with the both of you sitting down. Brown hair kept neat, mutton chops. Interesting choice. And the most intense blue eyes you'd seen in a long time. 
"Nice weather we're having." The first half of the code was long habit to you, and never changed. That way you always knew you had the correct underling. 
"Yes but I always bring an umbrella," the man answered with the other half of the code. English accent. Lovely. 
"Anything to drink for you?" You offered with an easy smile, crossing your legs at the knee. 
"No. You have something for me." His voice was rough and low, gaze fixed on you. 
"I suppose I do." You reached into your pocket and pulled out a flash drive, holding it between two fingers. "Password is enterprise, all lower case. This is all up to date. Oh, and one more thing." You leaned in, dropping your voice. "They're planning to move within 24 hours. I can get a more precise time, but it'll cost." 
His eyes narrowed, just a little. "Wait here." He took the USB, tucking it into a pocket before he stood. He towered over you, and you blinked slowly up at him. Oh yes. Oh you liked this one. 
He stepped away, pulling out a cell phone. You picked up your coffee, taking a sip and watching him with half-lidded eyes. He had turned away so you couldn't read his lips. Smart. Clearly someone had updated him as to your capabilities. Your bet was on Laswell - she liked to ruin your fun. 
If Laswell was indeed his contact, that was. And if she was… well, that made him a little higher up the food chain than you initially guessed. Fascinating. 
Normally you dealt with underlings, normal soldiers. People who could act as go-tos but ultimately just followed orders. 
This one, though…
He rejoined you at the table, gaze hard. "You have authorization to proceed. But. There will be rules." 
"I'm listening," you agreed, watching him over the rim of your coffee cup. 
"You keep a comm on you. You alert me as soon as you have the information. You do not take any risks or alert them to our plans. I will have a sniper on overwatch."
“You won’t need them.” You tipped your chin, holding his gaze. “I suppose you’ll be able to hear me but not the other way around, then?” 
“You won’t need to hear from me if you do your job right.” 
You chuckled. “I suppose so. What shall I call you, then?” 
“You don’t need my name.”
“Your name? No. I don’t. But I would like to know what I can call you.” You winked at him. “For my diary, of course.” 
He was silent for a few long moments, blue eyes searching yours. Not that you knew what he was actually looking for. But whatever he saw must have satisfied him. “Captain.” 
“Captain,” you purred. “I assume she informed you of my preferred call sign.” That was a calculated gamble, dropping that hint.
Apart from the tiniest twitch of his lips, he didn’t react. “Ace.”
“Right.” You smiled, all teeth, and finished your coffee. “Well then! Are you coming back to mine, handsome?” You fluttered your eyelashes at him playfully. 
His jaw clenched. “We’ll RV at a secondary location,” he ground out. Either he disliked you or he disliked flirting. Or possibly both. 
“Alright. When?” 
“Half an hour.”
You did a quick bit of mental math. You had most everything you needed on you, but clearly he did not. He hadn’t come equipped to send someone else in on a quasi-op, after all. “Alright. Where?” 
“Tailors shop, called Black Label. Half a click north of here.”
“I’ll find it.” You tucked a cash tip under your empty coffee cup and stood. “I’ll see you in thirty minutes, Captain.” 
It took you ten minutes to be sure he wasn’t following you, although you wouldn’t be surprised if he had someone up high tracking you. He seemed the paranoid type. But you risked it to go back to your hotel room. If all went well, you’d be leaving town within hours. 
It took minutes to ensure your things were packed up, and you hummed to yourself as you double-checked the knife strapped to your thigh under your clothes, the false pocket of your pants giving you access. Perfect. You did like it when all your things were in working order. 
And then you sauntered back out the door, leaving your baggage behind for the moment. It didn’t take you long to find Black Label. 
But this time, you weren’t there first.
Captain walked up to you before you even reached the door, his hand securing just above your elbow, firm but not painful. He guided you around the side of the building and down an alleyway. 
“You leave this on,” he said firmly, releasing you only to grab a tiny microphone out of one of his pockets. “You turn it off, we assume you’ve betrayed us.”
“Sniper, overwatch, I remember,” you agreed glibly. “Allow me.” You held out one hand, imperious, and he handed over the microphone. Without an ounce of shame, you secured it under your shirt where it was completely hidden from sight. “Will this audio suffice?” 
He tipped his head just a little to the side. Undoubtedly listening to the report of whoever was on the other end of his comms. Then he nodded once, short and sharp. 
“Good. I need to get going or I’ll be late.”
He stiffened. “Late?” 
“Didn’t I mention? I have a dinner appointment.” Your lips curved in amusement as you watched him struggle not to react. Much. His flush betrayed his anger, though. 
“I’ll be listening very closely,” he finally growled. 
“I hope you do.” You winked at him again and turned, walking out of the alleyway. Sometimes men were just so fun to tease. 
You did, in fact, have a dinner date with Sergio. You’d arranged it well ahead of time, knowing that either your contact would authorize paying you more for more information, or you’d have some tidbits to sell to Sergio. You were guaranteed a delicious meal, at least. 
The restaurant where you were due to meet Sergio was nice, upscale without being outrageously fancy. You’d been here once before, a few years back. But then, you’d looked quite different then. You’d changed your hair color since, as well as your style of dress. 
Nobody would remember you. 
Sergio was waiting for you - you always arrived precisely on time with him. If he showed up second, he took it as a personal affront and was useless for the next few hours as he worked through his temper tantrum. So, allowances had to be made. 
Like letting him kiss your cheek and pull your chair out for you.
“It has been too long,” he said, taking his seat across from you. 
“It has,” you agreed easily. “How are the girls?” 
“Ah, they are well. Sophia is nine now! And growing like a weed.” He chuckled fondly. “She is already so big. It seems like just yesterday she was small enough I could hold her with one hand.”
“Yes, children do grow fast,” you agreed with a slightly wistful smile. “Especially the ones you’re attached to.”
You both chuckled over that. When the waiter appeared, you let Sergio order drinks for you both. Another calculated move. He was a man who liked to believe he was in charge. 
But it wasn’t until after the appetizers had arrived that he brought up business.
“Any news from our friends in the south?” He feigned disinterest, glancing at you before looking back at his plate. 
“Nothing new, unfortunately.” You shrugged, very much a “what can you do?” “They insist they are on time, of course. I have a feeling they might benefit from a… surprise inspection. If you’d like me to go…”
“No need,” he said, waving off your offer. “I will be going myself in two weeks.”
“Perfect timing, then.” You smiled, though your heart beat faster with excitement at the new information. “I am sorry I don’t have a more satisfying update for you, then.” 
“It is hardly your fault. You are merely the messenger in this case.” His eyes gleamed at you from across the table, dangerous and sure of himself.
“I do hope I’ve earned more than simply being the messenger after all this time.” But you kept your tone light and teasing, smiling playfully. 
“Much more,” he agreed with a chuckle. “Minx. I would invite you back to remind you of what you are, but I won’t have time tonight.”
You pouted at him. “Busy schedule?” 
“Workers nowadays. Can hardly expect them to keep on top of the schedule unless you’re watching them. You know the feeling, I’m sure.”
“Of course,” you agreed in a murmur. “Nothing ever gets done right unless you oversee it yourself.”
“Precisely.” He tipped his glass to you in a silent toast, taking a sip. 
“Tight deadline, then?” 
He tipped his head back and forth. “Well, if I wasn’t due to be leaving in the morning, I’d push it a little, just for you.” His smile turned filthy.
You chuckled, one hand toying with the stem of your wine glass. “You flatter me.” That was likely as precise a time as you were going to get from him, and you didn’t dare push for more. That would just raise suspicion. 
You liked your head where it was and in one piece. 
“And what of you? You haven’t mentioned your plans at all.” His foot nudged yours under the table. 
“Well, since I’ll be robbed of the pleasure of your company… I have a little business of my own to attend to in Turkey. I’ll be catching an early flight out.”
“Time is simply not on our side this time,” Sergio agreed with a (slightly exaggerated) sigh. “Next time then, hm?”
“Of course.” You smiled, leaning back as the waiter brought your entrees out. “I’ll find something pretty for your girls in Turkey.” 
The rest of the conversation stayed away from business and leaned more towards pleasure - the latest hobbies of his two daughters, the ongoing complaints of their mothers, and his persistent search for the third future ex-wife. (He was hoping for a boy next time, he admitted.) 
The two of you parted ways amicably, and you didn’t watch as three other men melted out of the restaurant. Sergio was decently high up in his organization. It made sense he would have protection with him. 
You didn’t stop moving for twenty minutes, taking random twists and turns through the city until you ended up near the Black Label.
“No sign of a tail, Captain,” you murmured, walking into the same alleyway as before. You half-expected him to be there already. “I’ll give you five minutes before I decide to keep this as a souvenir.” 
He arrived in three, expression carefully neutral, though you thought you saw a tiny bit of grudging respect in his eyes. He held out one hand and you handed over the microphone. 
“Satisfied with your intel?” You smiled coyly at him. 
“Your money has been sent already,” he said, which was an answer. 
“Pleasure doing business with you, then.” You started to walk past him, only to stop when he stepped in your way.
“If I find out you’ve double crossed us…”
Your smile was still firmly fixed in place, although you had a feeling it was much less pleasant now. “Piece of advice for you, soldier,” you murmured, low and dangerous as a snake. “Your boss trusts me to get her good quality information, and she doesn’t meddle in my life. In return, I keep her secrets to myself. It’s a system that’s worked for us for a long time. Now, I doubt I’ll ever see you again, so here’s a nickel’s worth of free advice. Don’t tell me how to do my job, and I won’t ruin yours.” You bared your teeth in the barest mimicry of a smile. “Have a good night, Captain.” You stepped around him and continued on down the road. After half a dozen steps, you began whistling.
Just because you knew it annoyed some people. 
The walk to your hotel was uneventful, and you collected your things and left. The cab ride to the airport was silent, and you booked a flight to Turkey for first thing in the morning. 
You had some gifts to buy, after all.
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Holy Water - A Jake Seresin Drabble
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Warnings: Fluff, cheesiest fluff, Softy Jake(is that a warning?)
Pairing:  Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Reader
Word Count: 676
A/N: This came from watching a scene from the Yellowstone season premier and my morning commute jam session the next day. The song Jake sings is called Holy Water by Brett Eldredge
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“Dance with me,” Jake begged, standing in front of you.
You were leaning against a railing of the arena of the Seresin family ranch’s barn. His parents had hosted a barbeque in celebration of Jake’s homecoming. Looking out over the arena, you watched couples laughing and dancing to country music playing in the background. 
“No way, I’m a terrible dancer.” You laughed.
“Baby, everyone can dance to this kind of music,” He gestured to the handful of couples dancing in the background. 
He was dressed in a plaid shirt with wranglers and cowboy boots. It was quite the look for Jake Seresin. You had seen pictures, but nothing had prepared you for the sights you would see when you finally visited his family’s ranch. 
He picked up the cattle rope next to him. “I guess I could make you,” Jake smirked.
You raised an eyebrow at him, “And how would you do that?
He let out some of the rope and skillfully tossed it over your head before gently pulling it tighter and pulling you closer.
You threw your head back, laughing. That was not a move you would have expected. You caught a glimpse of his parents watching the exchange, smiling and whispering to each other. 
“Guess I have no choice now,” You smiled. 
Jake beamed with fake pride, pulling the rope free and letting it drop at your feet. “See, I knew I could make you.” 
He held out his hand, and you graciously took it and let him lead you to the arena where the other couples were dancing. You weren’t being modest when you said you were a terrible dancer. You had two left feet and couldn’t even manage line dancing. 
Once satisfied with your position, he pulled you in close, “I won’t let you fall,” He whispered the promise in your ear before resting his hand on the small of your back. You rested your hand on his shoulder, and he squeezed your still-held hand with a reassuring smile. 
To no surprise, Jake could dance, and he could lead you without any hiccups. You swayed along with the tempo and never missed a step, even when he twirled you. 
A new song kicked on. A sliver of you hoped it was fast so you could skip this, but you knew it wouldn’t matter the song’s tempo. Jake wanted to dance with you, and he was going to make it happen. You wanted to be grumpy that he was making you dance, but you couldn’t fight the dopey smile on your face. 
As the melody of the new song filtered in, you recognized it as one that played in Jake’s truck regularly. He hummed along with the tune. You stepped a little closer, losing most formalities as you laid your head on his shoulder, his hand slid a little lower, and your eyes closed in the comfort of the moment. 
“I’ve been on the verge of breaking” He sang the lyrics softly in your ear. “Couldn’t find my way outta here. I saw you standin’ there, waving’, makin’ all this hell disappear. You are my holy water; you are my river deep. Wash me away and take my higher. ’Cause somethin’ bout your love just set me free.”
Before he finished the chorus, it couldn’t even be called dancing anymore. It was mostly just swaying as he held you close and sang soft enough for just you to hear. It wasn’t uncommon for him to sing to you. Mostly in quiet moments, when you were cuddling on the couch or sitting together at Breakers Beach.  
When the bridge came, he changed the lyrics like he always did, “I got used to breaking hearts, watchin’ worlds fall apart. Didn’t know I needed you. But now I do, now I do.”
“A heartbreaker no more,” You chuckled.
You could feel him smile against the top of your head, “You are my holy water; you are my river deep. Wash me away and take my higher. ’Cause somethin’ bout your love just set me free.”
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 A/N: If you’ve made it this far - thank you so so so much for reading! My Masterlist can be found here. All work is also available on AO3  
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justblades · 2 years
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#19 for ike please?
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♡ MAKE LOVE WITH ME ! ➠ 100 EVENT
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#19 IKE EVELAND ; ❝ keep your eyes open, look at me, baby. ❞ gender neutral! reader
WARNINGS ; nsfw content creator au, dom! ike, sub! reader, use of "sir" in a workplace setting and endearment such as "baby", praising. WC : 997
being a content creator, it was due to the popular demand of your audience to make a video based on the trope revolving around a perfect submissive assistant and a dominant boss of the company. as you gathered the clothes to be worn to prepare for the shoot, you lastly place the equipments for filming and approach ike if he needs any kind of aid to get started.
as per usual, he keeps his saccharine smile sculpted on his lips, anchoring his attention at the gadgets. he checks the lenses and the preview of the setting. "the place feels eerily dim." ike states as his hands motion the part of the room that is barely bright. "got it." you immediately run up to the sides and roll up the blinds from your sliding windows to make sure enough illuminates the room, imitating the aspects and designs of an office.
"okay good, we're all set now." the ash haired says and you nod, stripping your clothes off on the spot. ike does the same and started to wear his business attire, while you get in your garb of the same type as well. buttoning up the last two slits of your long sleeves, "how is our scene gonna start again?" you query for the last time.
"it's a boss rewarding his subordinate, what follows next is up to us so that our acting will feel more natural." you hum as a response that you kept in mind the narrative of the video. "oh and we'll be using toys yes? just tell me if it gets a little too uncomfy."
"of course."
the final adjustments have been done and the cameras started to roll. the ambience of the setting starts to thicken, perfect for the scenario you're currently playing in. you place the wad of documents and paperworks on ike's glasstop table with a heavy sigh in the end. "sir, i finished what you wanted me to do."
he cocks a brow and quickly skims through each page with his fast, skillful hands, the glasses sitting on the tall bridge of his nose reflect the series of numbers and words imprinted on each paper. nervousness starts to dawn on you until ike finishes scanning each file and reclines on his office chair, viridiscent colored eyes lazily glancing on your direction. "you exceed my expectations even though i raise the bar higher each time you impress me with your work. no wonder you're my assistant."
his dulcet voice graces your ears, followed by his sugary sweet compliments you always receive whenever you accomplish the favors he ask you of in a short span of time. "thank you, sir." you say and bow down lightly as a way of expressing gratitude more than just words. "are you perhaps looking for a reward? if so, what could it be?"
"a higher pay would do." you lightly poke fun and ike chuckles, "if i could alter our salaries i would. come here, i already thought of one." your eyebrow rises as confusion clouds your mind, you willingly walk up to him. once your bodies were inches apart in distance, he pushes your figure on his desk table making you lay on the surface. the stack of papers slowly drift down in a horizontal blur, you were bewildered from his abrupt actions. "sir?"
he outright rips your lower clothes and palms through your sex, fingers fiddling little by little on the sheerly covered part. you clap a hand at your mouth as soon as mewls of satisfaction came out, "baby, remove your hand and moan for me."
you shake your head as a firm no of an answer. you hear ike click his tongue in impatience and tore your undergarment open— "you still don't get it? this is your reward." putting emphasis on the word 'this'.
"but . . but why?" stammering from your jagged breathing, your boss proceeds to stroke your sex harshly, his fingers lubricated with the spit he gathered in his mouth. as he strokes up and down, lewd noises of stickiness and skin slapping echo inside the office. it made you feel mortified, unable to stop the series of events happening. "you deserve to be pleasured like this, you deserve to be lax after so many works piled before you."
more moans of satisfaction bubbles in your throat, "now, remove your hand." he asserts authority in his voice as he continues to pump you up and down. "keep your eyes open, look at me, baby."
you remove the hand covering your mouth and attempt to look at him straight, adoring his lush green irises clouded with desire that is only fit for the unholy ones; he feigns an innocent, chaste smile as he got to hear your velvet guttural groans, feeling waves of excitement in your body spike up and up the more he drags the foreplay longer. "very good. even in this kind of act, you're as obedient in your workplace." a knot of release later forms in your body as your legs start to wobble up and down in an untypical manner, "oh? are you gonna cum?"
struggling to answer to him in the exact moment, "cum. cumming with no hesitation is good for the body hence why this is a reward for my acquiescent assistant. now go, let it all out." he says and uses another hand to play with your hole and right there, hot liquids come out of your little slit, littering your boss' clothes. splotches of darkened fabric spreads on ike's suit and he was beyond amazed at how a lot sprawled out.
"great work today. i suppose you have no problem with the reward i gave you?" the bi haired male fixes the glasses that sat crookedly on his nose earlier with his index finger. you hesitate to respond, feeling a little too uneasy as you cummed on his clothing with no regards of how your boss will feel. "i'll take that as a yes."
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acorrespondence · 1 year
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32 and 23 :)
23. Describe the physical environment in which you write. Be as detailed as possible. Tell me what’s around you as you work. Paint me a picture.
Oh this is very difficult because I write fiction pretty much exclusively on my phone! I don’t require a consistent writing space, and pretty much the only constant between my many writing environments is a way to avoid or block out distracting sounds. I’ve written in my bed across 4 different houses and apartments, on couches in the same, on trains and buses and in the passenger- or backseats of cars; on porch swings, tree swings and fire escapes; even in hammocks in the woods. For me, being distracted by things around me is actually a pretty important part of my writing process—or maybe it’s more the ability to use those things to distract myself. I like to be surrounded by interesting things to focus on when my mind wanders or when I need to puzzle something out or take a little brain break.
Near where I grew up, there’s a little public park at the base of a dam. It’s not a park in the traditional sense; there’s no grass, and the area around the river is steeply inclined and thickly forested. Huge rocks jut up from the base of the falls, and continue down along the river, and in the summer when it’s dry, or when the dam hasn’t been running, the water collects in the deepest crevices and leaves most of the bedrock bare. Deep gouges scar the stone, vestiges of the dynamite boring holes they used to level the ground there and give the dam waters somewhere to fall. The river splits around several towering shelves of rock that stand much higher, and on one of those shelves lies a giant felled tree, a good six feet of trunk hanging out over the river, lifted some fifteen or twenty feet above the riverbed. I used to walk out onto the log and sit or lie at the end of it and write. I also liked to climb down and sit on the lower rocks close to the water. I’ve always been drawn to moving water, mostly for sensory reasons—the sound of it, the reflection and refraction of the sunlight as it tumbles over itself and the rocks and roots in its path. Anyway, that’s probably my favorite place I’ve gone to write.
32. What is a line from a poem/novel/fanfic etc that you return to from time and time again? How did you find it? What does it mean to you?
Another hard one! Usually the reason I’m struck by lines in fics and novels and poems is inextricable from the context they’re written in, so isolating them from that context takes away some of their power in my mind. My brain is always trying to make connections—I dislike simplification. So if something specific strikes me in a piece of writing, it’s usually in a specific context or in connection to something else. I’m also not a very inventive or innovative person. Most of my creative output is more focused on synthesis and reframing. I guess what sticks with me more are conceptual threads shared across multiple perspectives, the little things that connect stories and memories and pieces of writing that maybe on the surface don’t seem to share much in common—and often these things end up threaded through my own writing.
One of my favorite poems is “The Hour and What Is Dead.” Here’s the first stanza: “Tonight my brother, in heavy boots, is walking / through bare rooms over my head, / opening and closing doors. / What could he be looking for in an empty house? / What could he possibly need there in heaven? / Does he remember his earth, his birthplace set to torches? / His love for me feels like spilled water / running back to its vessel.” In high school, we read Beloved by Toni Morrison, along with its companion essay, “The Site of Memory.” That essay contains the following quote: “You know, they straightened out the Mississippi River in places, to make room for houses and livable acreage. Occasionally the river floods these places. ‘Floods’ is the word they use, but in fact it is not flooding; it is remembering. Remembering where it used to be. All water has a perfect memory and is forever trying to get back to where it was. Writers are like that: remembering where we were, that valley we ran through, what the banks were like, the light that was there and the route back to our original place. It is emotional memory—what the nerves and the skin remember as well as how it appeared.”
These two excerpts and the connection between them caught in my mind, and together led to this piece of narration from one of my current WIPs: “Raylan . . . scoots over. ‘Come on then, get up,’ he says, resigned, and reaches out to steady her as she climbs up on the bed. She scrambles in beside him, Boyd following after. Raylan loses his breath a little, winded, as she burrows her head under his ribs, the place she’s always trying to get to—like spilled water running back to its vessel, though it’s hardly where she came from. Boyd moves nearer, closing her in like a comma between parentheses. They sleep.” This paragraph in my fic is in conversation with both those other excerpts, and mirrors their themes of love/memory/familial relationships. My intention with the story as a whole is to explore inherited trauma, inter-generational relationships, systems and cycles of violence/crime/poverty/abuse, and the idea of Harlan living on in Raylan (and Boyd) and passing to his children through him—how it’s reflected in this child who had never stepped foot there in her life prior to the beginning of this story. It’s just one line, fleeting and fairly inconsequential, but I think something about it brings to mind these themes. Several people remarked on having enjoyed that line in particular, so at least there’s that.
So, whenever a line sticks with me, this is what my brain does with it. I know no one reading the story is going to make these connections, but they both fit in with the themes and ideas I’m constantly preoccupied by, and therefore constantly worrying at in my writing. And I do feel like it helps me to clarify those themes for myself and anchor them in the story, even if the references aren’t recognizable to readers.
(Questions here)
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lex-munro · 11 months
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So I'm doing a combined workshop on portraiture and red carpet photography soon (combined as in I'm teaching people how to have their pictures taken while also teaching how to take those pictures), and while prepping, I realized I'd come up with the best bare-bones list of how to get better at having your picture taken.
So. Five free pro-tips for being the person getting your picture taken, from a person who professionally takes pictures of people.
1) Nothing straight-on. Straight-on is clinical and often lifeless, and deeply unforgiving in most cases. Straight-on is the least representative of what people see when they look at you, and can have an Uncanny Valley effect, which will make people vaguely uncomfortable when they look at the pic. If your body is pointed at the camera, turn or tilt your head; if your face is pointed at the camera, turn or tilt either the shoulders or hips. If it's a bust and you feel your face is best from head-on, tilt your head slightly in any direction (up emphasizes the nose and neck, and usually the lower lip; down emphasizes the forehead and brows, as well as the outline of the jaw, but can accidentally give you a double-chin unless you also lean your torso forward; tilting to either side will emphasize asymmetry, especially in jewelry, haircuts, and eye-shape). In full-body from the front, tilting your butt upward will de-emphasize your thighs; turning your shoulders to the side will de-emphasize them while head-on with a tilt will emphasize them; one leg forward and lax will lengthen your silhouette, while feet more than shoulder-width apart will shorten it.
2) Ideal camera height is lower than you think. Again, to best represent the experience of looking at you, make sure the central focus is higher than the camera--so when taking selfies, hold your phone with the camera at the bottom, aiming in the general direction of your mouth in order to avoid inflating either the brow or the chin. When someone else is holding the camera, don't try to lower yourself for fear you're not in the frame.
3) Holding still is stately and relaxed, moving is fun and energetic. Don't be afraid to twirl a little, or fluff your skirt or jacket. If you're always dancing, do a little dance. That's part of your energy, and part of what builds the memory others have of you. If you're the quiet, reserved type, don't hesitate to find a comfortable way to sit or stand still. For seated portraits especially, relaxing into the pose is very different from leaning forward or sitting ramrod-straight. Hands in your pockets can draw the eye down in a tight outfit, but it can also be a way to make space in a garment if you want your jacket to show less chest/stomach or your trousers to show less crotch. If you want to look sad, or thoughtful, or vampy, or high, or whatever, talk about that with your photographer so that they're ready to help you make the right face and pose.
4) Always ask for at least two shots. Not pose advice, I know, but still important. Try different smiles, different poses. Give yourself options. A good photographer will have been observing you carefully during the setup/consultation and will give you prompts they think will refine your pose to achieve your goals, and will usually be happy to show you the difference. "More teeth. Think about tap-dancing kittens. Chin down just a little. Pretend there's peanut butter on the back of your front teeth. And one with your mouth closed. Pretend you're showing a puppy your new ankle tattoo. Twirl. Maybe less twirl. Jason Momoa loves your manicure."
5) Be aware of how your clothes and/or makeup reflect light. Check yourself with warm and cool lights, fluorescent, daylight, etc.--if you'll be in a specific setting (taking company photos in the office, taking wedding photos in a Church, taking Easter photos in the park), try to mimic the lighting of that setting when you choose makeup and wardrobe. Intense spot lighting can wash out matte fabrics like chiffon or blow out the contrast on satins (one reason some photographers loathe other photographers at red carpet events). Translucent setting powders will typically lighten the face under flash photography, and can reveal texture irregularities. MAC is particularly nice on camera, which is a huge reason for its popularity in the film industry, but you can also get great results with photo-oriented cosmetics such as Revlon Photo-Ready.
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ducknotinarow · 1 year
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❤️ for Rise!Raph and Yvonne
| Send ❤️ to grab my muse and kiss the HELL out of them.
Camping trips were sort of a common occurrence for the family, though pops made it into more like a training camp situation. Pops insisted going out into the woods was the best way to help Raph and his brothers refocus and center themselves. Raph had to admit even if it meant no tech use like his phone he actually kind of liked going out to the woods. It was nice out there the air was fresh and crisp, it was quite and open. Long as they stayed away from the human camping grounds or hunting grounds they could be as out in the open as possible. Donatello hated it the most but he sort of leaded on his crunch a bit much. Raph made sure to sneak something for them every time. A stupid digital pet toy normally. Don would scoff but he always took it, it was just barely enough to make it through at times. It was also a great time for the family to just be together even if Splinter went crazy on the training at times.
Camping was great more so for training, they could run around openly and test their mystic powers out on things like boulders and such. Raphael did love it even if he could be right their with his team moaning and groaning about having to leave the comfort of home just to get out to the woods. Eh his tune changed once they got there. However, there was one down side to the camping trip.
No Yvonne.
Course she understood, didn't make Raph miss her any less. Since they see each other so much he figured it was just cause of that.It's not like they die cause they speant a few days apart. Even if Raph was constantly worrying about something happening well he was away. Like what if one of the more rowdy yokai's come into shop and try to rob her! what if they hurt her when trying to rob her! What if someone hit on her well he was gone and got her better flowers then he ever dose!? Okay that second thought had no ground to stand on, other then the fact to Raphael she was the most beautiful person to ever exist. Did make him pout his beak a lot when alone to think about how he missed her just so much. Her little wings fluttering behind her back, her laugh, her eyes all four of them. Though sometimes he wasn't sure which ones too look at. Feet were tapping at the floor of the tank right now as they were making thier way back home. Finally aloowed thier phones back. Raph's eyes glued to the singl bars on his soon as one bar popped up his thumbs went to work typing out his message to Yvoone.
[text] We just got b8 in now!
[text] Imma head 2 u!
Smiling as he sent a heart to follow his messages, only to get annoyed as the texts didn't go through the single was a bit too weak still. Shuffling from his spot, he was sitting in as he held up his phone at another bar. Sweet! But when he hit resent. Nothing. He looked around the tank and moved up to his seat it was higher and got him the bar but still wasn't sending out! He hissed a little under his breath and decided it must be the tank messing with his single. Well it wasn't gonna stop him from texting his girl!
Looking up to the hatch on top as he didn't brother with unlatching it as he simply actived his mystic powers letting red arura evolved around his hand swinging up to hit the hatch open and squeeze hos way out. Yeah he needed to stop using the hatches they werent...built to his size after all. He manged to wiggle and arm free though smiling at the sight of a full set of bars. Un aware as they tank had pulled into the lair now as he sent his texts finally. "Nice now once I'm free from the tank-" caught off as he lowered his phone Yvoone standing in the garage of the lair able to see his dumbass stuck like this. He blushed a bit and started to kick his legs around, oh felt like he nailed something just then? The following voice of one of his brother confirming his kicked them just now didn't help. He offered Yvonne a laugh at least "uhhh did ja get ma text?"
Lucky for him, she just fluttered her way over to him, hands on his face how he likes. Smiling softly up at her. this was a difference he normally had to look low to see her, but he would take looking stupid, stuck in the tank over three days without her. "Three days is too long, Vonnie. I forgot how pretty you were." He loed he had her photo as his screen saver after all. Smiling more when she started a barrage of kisses to his face, a slightly sticking feeling was a clear sign that he was being covered in her lipstick now now softly little a churr bubble out from his chest. When he felt a tug against his legs.
"Hey guys, hold on,'m gettin'." Kisses up here, so back off." Trying to kick his brothers away from him, but that mentioned seemed to only prevoke them to pull harder. Soon, she slipped away from Yvoones hold as he fell onto the other three turtles. Raph held an annoyed grim expression no bothering to move it what they git fir thst stunt after all. " Oh 'm makin' training a whole lot less fun tomorrow for you borzos."
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zeepatnablog · 1 year
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Luxury interio
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Furniture Furniture is the base of any home. Without furniture, there would be no place to sit, sleep, work, or relax. In addition to furnishing a room, furniture adds definition and character to the space. When designing a room, it’s always best to choose pieces that suit the style of the room. You don't want to add something to the room that won't fit the overall vibe of the space. Furniture should not only enhance the aesthetics of the room but make guests feel comfortable as well.
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Wall Art Wall art is a quick way to improve the aesthetic appeal of a room without spending a lot of money. Prints, paintings, and posters help fill empty wall space and create a unique atmosphere. However, you need to know what kind of artwork works best with certain types of spaces. If you live in a modern loft apartment, oversized prints might not look good, whereas if you live in a traditional house, smaller framed paintings may be more appropriate.
Paint Colors Paint is a permanent solution to decorate, protect, and clean surfaces. Different kinds of paint come in various finishes, including flat finish, semi-gloss, satin, and gloss. While paints come in many different shades, they can often be mixed together to create custom colors. Paint colors are easy to change if you ever decide to redecorate. Painting a room is a great way to start revamping a space.
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jungkxook · 3 years
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—the love bug. (m)
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⟶ pairing: jungkook x reader
⟶ genre: spiderman!jungkook + fluff / smut
⟶ words: 20,649 (sorry)
⟶ rating: 18+
⟶ summary: every night, jungkook puts on the red mask and flings himself confidently into perilous danger; but that same heart of steel that fuels his will and spirit seems to fail him whenever it comes to you 
⟶ warnings: coarse language, mild violence, jungkook is really shy and cute and dumb bc he’s so smitten, also jungkook’s butt in spandex is nice, needy/clingy sex, oral sex (fem!receiving), face riding, fingering, riding, missionary, unprotected sex
⟶ disclaimer: this is a repost of a fic i had on my old blog! 
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You see Jungkook every night without fail.
When the sun has set below the distant horizon and plunges the world into a formidable darkness, driving most ordinary civilians to seek shelter in their homes, he stumbles into the café tucked cozily on the corner of a busy street in Lower Manhattan. The concrete city is still very much alive in a harmonious mix of sirens and the hum of cars but is subdued, muffling under the night sky and is most susceptible at this time to misconduct. Usually, at this point of night, the café you work at is nearly empty, save for a few stragglers that huddle tiredly at certain round tables. Most times, these are students from the university you attend just around the bend, whose weary eyes peer over the laptop in front of them as they meticulously work on an essay due the next morning, only fueled by the cup of coffee next to them.
Though you’ve seen Jungkook plenty of times around the campus of your school, he never once enters the café for the sole purpose of late night studying or writing. Instead, as you come to find over the course of many strange nights, Jungkook stumbles in through the doors sometime after 9 p.m., always with one strap of his backpack thrown over his shoulder. He always looks dishevelled, exhausted, as if he has spent the evening running all over the city of New York; and then he plops himself down into a seat by the window, burying his head in his folded arms that lean on the top of the table. Most times he orders a coffee and though he downs it the fastest you’ve ever seen, he is still somehow able to fall asleep at the table. Sometimes, he hardly ever touches the coffee and lets it grow cold as it rests next to him but he always, without a doubt, falls asleep next to it.
You never wake him. Usually, when you work the late night shifts, you are alone for a handful of hours until your next coworker arrives for their shift. You don’t mind the company anyway, even if he sleeps for most of the night. It’s comforting to at least see he’s resting, though you find yourself snickering to yourself as you watch the snoring boy when it’s just you and him alone in the café. Though you have grown up with Jungkook as your next door neighbour as a child, have attended the same schools and been in most classes together from elementary all the way to your freshman year of college now, and have watched one another mature and change, you have never really exactly gotten to know Jungkook as well as you’d like. Typically, your conversations are short and friendly, ranging from you taking his order at the café and spotting him around campus and asking if he knew the answer to a question for the homework assigned to the class you share with him.
This night isn’t any different.
You’ve become eager, always anticipating when Jungkook will walk through the doors of the café and make himself at home as he routinely does. However, just before 9 p.m. on a Thursday night, when the small bell above the door rings to signal a new arrival, you are immediately disappointed to find that it is not Jungkook. Instead, it is a crude muscular man not much older than you with tattoos that litter his arms and a star inked into the left side of his neck. The sight of him causes you to groan inwardly, forces you to straighten your back a little more, hold your chin a little higher. Most nights the café may be occupied by university students, but other nights you are forced to deal with tasteless strangers that try to intimidate you but instead give you an agonising headache.
You have seen this man before, have remembered the star tattoo and the scar just above his right eyebrow. He has come into the café before and has been the source of trouble more often than not. As the man approaches the counter in an imperious stride this time, you notice the smirk that tugs at his lips and feel the foreboding shudder that runs down your spine.
“Evenin’,” You greet. “Can I get you anything?”
The man’s eyes flicker to the menu above the counter, as if he is pondering what to order. He looks back down at you and then leans against the counter, closing the distance between him and you causing you to take a step back.
“How are you doing tonight, sweetheart?” he asks. “Been awhile, huh? Did you miss me?”
Forcing a fixed smile on your face, you reply shortly with, “I’ve been well. Can I get you anything?”
Apparently, the way you repeat your question in a firm manner doesn’t act as well of a hint as you had hoped for the man. He’s smirking wickedly, clearly enjoying the strain he puts you through.
“I know what you can get me, sweetheart,” he drawls. “When do you get off? Maybe we can meet round back and I can show you what a real man is like.”
“No thanks.”
“Playing hard to get, hm?” he muses. “I wonder what else that pretty little mouth of yours can do.”
Though you are appalled, you swallow your nerves and narrow your eyes into a glare. It can tell you to kindly fuck off, you grimace to yourself. Instead, you turn your back to him, pretending to occupy yourself with cleaning the counter as you mumble blankly, “Not interested.”
The man chuckles. “Come on, sweetheart. It’s just a little fun━”
“She said she’s not interested.”
The familiar voice that interrupts the man causes your heart to leap blithely in your chest and makes you realize you have been so caught up with the man by the counter that you hardly noticed the way the bell rings a second time as the newcomer enters the shop. Standing just behind the man is Jungkook, whose carob hair sticks out in messy tufts and weary eyes are laced with an underlying menace. The man looks from you to Jungkook and must assume the confrontation isn’t worth a fight. The smug smile remains on his face even as he shrugs, muttering something along the lines of, “Whatever, man. I was just trying to have some fun.”
Whether or not Jungkook has scared him away, the man relents and retreats to the door of the café, disappearing outside once more. As soon as the door shuts behind him, you come to realize that you are now alone in the café with Jungkook with nothing but the sound of the flat screen t.v that hangs in a corner behind the counter, faintly playing on the news channel.
“You okay?” he asks, catching your attention. “He didn’t do anything, did he?”
“Oh, no. No, I’m fine,” You say. “Thanks for that, by the way. Though I could’ve handled it myself.”
Jungkook chuckles. “I don’t doubt that but it’s nice to get a little help sometimes.”
You smile up at the boy who towers above you and, despite the fatigue that droops his eyes, his pink lips still unfurl into a wide, radiant grin that brightens his face.
“How long are you here for tonight?” he asks.
“Till close. Then I have to head home and put together a powerpoint for psych,” You yawn as if to emphasize your boredom. “What can I get you? The usual?”
Jungkook looks at you as if you are his saving grace. The smile stretches further across his cheeks as he nods. “Please?”
“Will do. Sit tight, I’ll be right over.”
You spin around from behind the counter, almost immediately jumping to work as you rummage through the shelves. When you’re finished making his order that consists solely of a medium black coffee with two sugars and turn back around to face him, you find him seated at a table off to the side, not far from the counter. His backpack lays discarded on the ground by his feet and his elbow rests on top of the surface of the table, his chin nestled in the palm of his hand; his eyes are fixated on the television screen hanging just ahead and, for once upon entering the café past dusk, he doesn’t lack a sense of emotion. Instead, his brows knit in concern as he is engrossed by whatever is happening on the news.
As you approach his table with his coffee in your hand, you crane your neck to look up at the screen and what has seemingly caught his interest. On one side of the screen is a female news reporter in a pink blouse and gray blazer; on the second half of the screen, you see a familiar flash of striking red and blue that swings from building to building from an, albeit, shaky recording from a passerby’s phone.
“And in other news,” The woman who speaks has a strong, smooth voice as she stares ahead at the camera with a rather sour look, “the masked mystery man, otherwise known as Spider-Man, was spotted earlier this morning when he put a stop to a robbery in an apartment in Queens just before noon. Though most would argue that Spider-Man is New York’s very own masked hero, the New York City Police Department are still searching for the identity of whom they call a vigilante, saying he is causing mayhem in━”
“Some guy, huh?” You muse pensively, sliding the coffee onto the counter next to Jungkook. “This spider guy or whatever.”
The boy in front of you glances down meekly at the coffee and back up at you. His eyes flicker to the screen hanging in the corner once more. “You mean Spider-Man?”
Nodding, you say, “Yeah. He comes out of nowhere two years ago and now he’s everywhere. What do you think of him helping with all this dangerous crime stuff?”
“Ah, well, that’s his thing,” Jungkook says, shrugging. “If he couldn’t handle it, he wouldn’t be helping solve a lot of the city’s crimes. I think he’s pretty cool, y’know, for a masked guy. I definitely don’t think he’s a vigilante or━ or a criminal.”
“You talk about him as if you know him,” You giggle.
Jungkook’s eyes widen for a split second and then he’s furiously shaking his head. “Know him? No, no, of course not! I’m just a… Just a big fan ━ and an even bigger fan of Iron Man.”
He picks up the coffee next to him and lifts it to his mouth for a quick sip, nearly burning his tongue but swallowing his curses.
“I like him,” You confess at long last. “He’s interesting. I think he’s just what we need at a time like this.”
Just then, the bell above the door rings once more and a small group of friends wander into the shop, each carrying backpacks and heavy textbooks. They sit at a table off in the corner and you sigh as you look back down at Jungkook.
“That’s my cue,” You say. “Gotta go, but have a good night, okay? And, Jungkook? You really should get some more sleep.”
Jungkook opens his mouth to respond but you are already turning away and so he sits back in his seat, defeated once more. He watches as you stride happily to the group of friends sitting at a table to take their order, your hair bouncing slightly under the fluorescent lights. He folds his arms over the top of his table and buries his head in them, though he sneaks one last glance up at you. Despite his eyes itching with sleep, he pries them open just a second longer to watch you smile as you speak with the students and it is the last thing he sees before he slips off into a light and contented sleep.
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As you step out into the cool, early Autumn night and shut the door of the café behind you to lock it, the single thought most prominent in your mind is sleep.
You’re exhausted, but the homework still waiting to be completed in your home is the only thing that pushes you to stay awake. You hurry to fish the store keys out of your coat pocket and, with a euphonious chime, use them to lock the front door, ignoring the way the cold breeze nips at your cheeks. You grasp the collar of your coat tighter around your body and then hike the strap of your own bag further up your shoulder as you turn to walk away.
Jungkook had fallen asleep as per usual after your short conversation with him and then vanished an hour some time before you closed, waving a final farewell to you. The rest of your night had been rather slow, with only two more customers entering the café until each person left to venture back out into the cold and leave you alone. To finally be freed from the confinements of the café has you breathing in the crisp air in a deep breath. Exhaling placidly, you cross the street and begin making your way toward your one bedroom apartment which is only a fifteen minute walk away from both the café and your school.
You aren’t quite sure how long you have been walking for when you begin to notice the sound of footsteps behind you. In fact, if you had been listening more intently since the second you left the café, you would be able to recall the fact that these same heavy footsteps had been following along behind you since then. You don’t necessarily see the problem at hand just yet, thinking it to be just another innocent passerby who is coincidentally walking the same way as you. After all, New York City has a tremendously huge population.
You take a left, turning the corner of the street to continue along the path to your home. The only light that illuminates the way are the silvery wisps from the moon that hangs high in the night sky and the flickering street lamps that you pass occasionally. You take another left and strain your ears and hear the sound of footsteps again. Maybe you were overreacting, maybe it was just a random passerby, but most cities weren’t foreign to that of strange stalkers. Holding your breath, you slowly glance over your shoulder at the figure who has been following you and spot a man just a few paces away, the hood of his sweater drawn over his head.
You immediately turn back around, eyes wide as panic begins to settle in. You take another left, then a right, cross the street and retrace your steps back towards the café and each time you hear the heavy footsteps; each time they quicken in pace as does yours. You hadn’t even realized how briskly you were walking until you glance over your shoulder for a second time and see the man once more. Suddenly, you turn a sharp corner and race ahead before coming across an empty and darkened alleyway. You slip into its shadows, your heart hammering wildly against your chest and in your ears, and continue to walk until the brick wall at the very end of the alleyway comes into view. A dead end.
You turn back around and begin walking forward before freezing suddenly. If you go back out there, that man could still be lurking; if you stay in the alleyway, you could hide until you think it’s safe. Your eyes flicker around for something to cower behind and just before you notice the dumpster off to the side, you see a shadow in the corner of your eye. Turning around, you come face-to-face with the hooded man who is all but blocking your path to freedom. Except now, you’re able to stare into his face past the silhouette that his hood draws on his features. Now, you can see the star tattoo on his neck, the scar above his right eyebrow and an image of the man from the café only hours ago flashes across your eyes.
“You,” You gasp. “What do you want from me?”
Behind his hood, you can see him smirk slyly. “I just want to chat to you, babe. What are you doing all by yourself out here?”
Your eyes narrow into a scrutinizing glare. You step forward to walk around him but he grabs onto you, his arm snaking around your waist as he drawls, “Not so fast. I’ve been meaning to get you alone like this.”
Just as you open your mouth to shout out for help, the noise of sudden scuffling in the alley causes the man to stop. It comes with the rustling of the wind and could have easily been mistaken for the sound of a trash can falling over or paper tumbling loosely but it is also unmistakable the sound of footsteps. The man must notice something before you do as he squints further into the alleyway, muttering a small, “What the hell━”
“Come on, dude, that’s seriously no way to treat a girl!”
The foreign voice that drifts into the alleyway seems to startle not only yourself, but the man in front of you. His grip loosens on you slightly as he cranes his neck to look amongst the shadows.
“Well, anyone, for that matter.”
The stranger’s voice is youthful, most likely belonging to a boy around your age. It is oddly calm and nonchalant despite the situation that is unfolding before him, and then he clicks his tongue disapprovingly. As your eyes flicker open, you follow the source of the sound towards the blocked end of the alleyway still veiled by the darkness. Had this person always been there or had they really materialized out of thin air?
“Who’s there?” The man in front of you grunts. “Why don’t you mind your own business?”
“And why don’t you pick on somebody your own size?” The voice retaliates. He pauses as if he is waiting for an answer and then he is speaking up again. “Let me guess. You’re gonna tell me to screw off or something right? God, you guys are always so predictable and yet you never make it any easier for me.”
The man scowls, his hand drops from your throat as he turns to the looming darkness and hisses gruffly, “Mind your own business, punk━”
Before he can carry on, something flings out of the darkness and lands on the man’s face in a blink of an eye. He immediately lets go of you, grunting in confusion and flailing his arms about. As you drop to the ground, you subsequently bang your head hard against the brick wall and groan in pain, though you’re able to catch a glimpse of what the man is trying so desperately to claw off his face before your vision goes blurry. It is something thin and wispy, made of silver glistening strands that resembles, oddly enough, a spider’s web. As the man fumbles into the darkness, arms swinging clenched fists wildly about.
“Over here!” The boy taunts. “Missed me again! You know, you’re not very good at this.”
You struggle to climb to your feet, clutching your head in agony as you squint into the darkness. From where you are, you can only see the man fumbling around uselessly, the other figure still concealed by the darkness. As you attempt to get a better look, you hear the boy grunt in pain and catch sight of the man just after he had swung his fist into this person’s face, while his other hand had successfully been able to finally rip the mesh off his face.
“Okay, ow, that hurt,” The boy admits.
But before he or the man can continue on, you’re springing forward, mustering all your strength and courage into one impromptu movement. You grab your bag that had been discarded on the ground, heavy with a few school textbooks you had brought with you; you clutch it tightly, race up behind the man, and swing it hard at his head. His actions come to a sudden halt, he staggers forward, and immediately collapses to the ground, unconscious. Then finally, plunged into the darkness of the alleyway, you slowly look up to face the eye of your helper and are met, instead, with a flash of red and blue.
Standing before you, adorned head to toe in a tight suit is none other than the mysterious masked vigilante. He’s much taller in person than you expected, and much more muscular too, though with his face hidden beyond a mask, you can’t say much else about him. Instead, you gasp as you stare up at him in astonishment.
“Hey, nice hit!” he says, an apparent grin in his voice. “That was pretty awesome━”
“It’s you!” You exclaim.
“Me?” He seems confused at first but then he’s straightening up. “Oh, right, right. It’s me! Just, uh, your friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man. Rescuing damsels in distress is kinda my thing.”
Your amusement for the mysterious hero is quick to fade, however, in wake of the throbbing pain on your head. It makes you aware of the fact that your knees have since grown weak, your mind spinning. When you take a step forward, you are suddenly faint and stumble over your feet, tripping to the ground. Before you can hit the pavement, the boy swoops forward and into view, catching you swiftly in his arms and holding you up.
“Hey, hey, stay with me,” he says. “Oh man, we gotta get you home. Can you tell me where you live?”
You can feel your lips moving in response, most likely informing him foolishly of the apartment complex you live in. Though this boy has been noted on performing acts of bravery and fighting against crime, he’s still a stranger ━ and, even more warily so, a complete enigma. There was no reason to trust him, despite him helping you only minutes ago, but in that moment you are weak and exhausted. In the very next second, you find yourself slipping off into a deep and tranquil slumber.
When you awaken the next morning, you are first greeted to the bright light of the sun that licks at your cheeks and warms your face. You note the soft plush of the mattress under you, the soft breeze that ruffles your hair, and when you pry your eyes open, you find yourself laying on the bed in your room; your window opened. Just when you begin to think the night before was all just some elaborate dream, you feel the slight tinge of pain in the back of your head and, despite it all ━ despite the pain and despite the memory strange man who had followed you ━ you smile softly at the thought of the boy in red and blue.
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The next time you see Jungkook is on that Thursday.
Truthfully, you’ve been eager to find him around campus if only to tell him about your encounter with New York’s masked hero. You hadn’t told many people, safe for your closest friends, though you’re keen to see Jungkook’s reaction as you’ve learned he’s a fan of this spider guy. Wednesday is the only day you have a class with him and so as soon as the boring lecture for your anthropology class is finished, you spot him striding casually out the door and catch up to him just as he’s walking down the smooth pavement of the campus sidewalk.
Word, however, seems to spread fast amongst the friends in your year and whereas you only told one of your friends on that previous Friday about your encounter in the alleyway, Jungkook has already heard the story through misconstrued words at least a dozen times, through whisperings of people that aren’t even your friends. It’s a novelty, apparently, to witness something like this strange masked man. But, naturally, Jungkook is rather surprised when he hears your familiar dulcet voice calling his name.
“Jungkook!”
He whirls around to face you and smiles as he sees your figure walking towards him, adorned in leggings and a baggy school shirt to match the evening’s warm weather. You’re smiling at him, almost as radiantly as the sun that it almost quite literally blinds him as he doesn’t seem to notice the other girl walking just in front of him. He bumps into her before he can step out of the way and hastily apologizes before turning back to you only to see you giggling.
“What can I do for you on this fine evening?” he asks as you approach.
“I’ve been meaning to find you since Friday,” You say. “You’ll never believe what happened on Thursday.”
“I’ve been hearing it all week since then.”
“You have? Who told you?”
This causes Jungkook to chuckle lightly. He hikes the usual one strap of his backpack further up his shoulder as the two of you begin to walk again, “Y/N, everyone’s been talking about it. I guess no one can keep their mouth shut anymore. So tell me: what was this Spider-Man guy like?”
A small smile stretches across your face at the name, your teeth instinctively biting down on your lower lip in an attempt to hide in. Was it just Jungkook or did he see the slightest of pink pinch at your cheeks? When you look back up at him, your eyes are shimmering.
“Honestly?” You reply sheepishly. “I think I’m crushing on him pretty hard.”
Jungkook nearly chokes. When he speaks next, his voice is slightly higher than usual, so he clamps his mouth shut, clears his throat, and tries again. “You don’t say? He must be a real charmer then. Do you, uh, even know him well enough to crush on him?”
“It’s strange,” You remark. “You’re right ━ I don’t even know him and yet I haven’t been able to stop thinking about him since then. I guess chivalry isn’t dead after all, huh?”
“What even happened?” Jungkook asks.
“Remember that guy you scared away Thursday night? I got into some trouble with him━ but don’t worry!” You throw in the last few words when you see Jungkook’s brows scrunch in concern. “Spider-Man came before anything could happen. He saved me. I owe him my life at this point.”
Jungkook notes the dreamlike tone in your voice and when he glances down at you, you’re smiling blissfully down at your scuffed Converse shoes. It’s mesmerizing to see you so content and jubilant, beaming like the sun once more that hangs in the clear cerulean blue sky. He inhales a deep breath of fresh air, smells the wafting nodes of freshly ground coffee somewhere in the distance, and exhales slowly.
Nervously rubbing the back of his neck, he looks over at you once more and asks, “Hey, um, so for that anthro project we have to do ━ I was just wondering if maybe you wanted to be partners for it?”
Your eyes light up at the proposition and you nod enthusiastically. “Sure thing. I’d love that, actually. Maybe we can meet up this Sunday to plan everything out and see who’s doing what?”
“Hey, Y/N!”
Just then, you hear the familiar sound of your friend calling your name. You glance ahead where your eyes land on a group of girls sitting on a nearby bench and you wave at them. They gesture you over and you skip ahead a few paces, turning to look at Jungkook. He smiles as he nods.
“Sorry,” You apologize sheepishly. “But Sunday at the café at noon?”
“Sounds like a date.” Jungkook reddens suddenly at the way he words his thoughts and stammers to correct himself. “Not a date! Work date. Uh━”
“It’s a date,” You giggle. “See you!”
Then you’re rushing off to join your friends, leaving Jungkook alone once more. He sighs in your wake, shakes his head at himself, and grudgingly walks away.
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That night you can hardly sleep.
You blame it on the stress that comes with being a student, constantly under the strain of a multitude of assignments and upcoming tests. When the clock strikes half past one in the morning just as you are finishing typing up the last sentence of a seven page essay on your laptop (seated at your desk, where you have been for the past few hours), you decide you need a break before you go absolutely insane. Shrugging on a simple cardigan, you tiptoe out of your room, down the corridor to the elevator, ignoring the way your joints that have stiffened in place stretch in a satisfying pop. You’re stumbling out and onto the roof of your apartment building in no less than five minutes, emerging out into the open night.
It isn’t terribly cold and, after inhaling a deep breath of the refreshing air, you sigh in relief and you walk to the concrete barrier at the very edge of the roof and lean against it. Gazing out at the vibrant and lively concrete and glass buildings and skyscrapers alike that build the city of New York, with each window illuminated by a warm glow of light, seems to give you a sense of peace. You can hear the hum of cars, a distant sound of sirens, the occasional honk, and the thump of bass from somewhere in the distance to your left, all amassing into the rhythmic pulse of the city; across from you, in the building complex on the other side of the street, you can see silhouetted figures of perhaps caffeinated students or late night lovers. The sky is empty, blank and dull as it stretches on over the entirety of the city, but you can see the moon, brightly shining in all its glory, bold and proud amongst the artificial light.
A slight breeze disrupts the stillness of the roof, rustles your hair, followed by the looming feeling of not being alone. You hear the sound of footsteps landing softly on the ground and turn around slowly, casting your gaze across the seemingly empty rooftop. But you see it ━ or rather, him ━ in the shadows near the door a bit further off. It’s strange how calm you are in the moment but the presence doesn’t exactly feel intimidating to you ━ especially when you notice the flash of red and blue.
“You again?” You ask humorously.
“Sorry if I scared you.” The voice that carries with the wind towards you is familiar, youthful. “Definitely not my intention.”
“I’m not scared,” You say. “If I can recall amongst your many gritty crime fighting, you saved a cat stuck in a tree a while back.”
The boy chuckles. “Ah, well, just all a part of the job.”
“What are you doing here?” You take a step toward him and hear him retreat further into the darkness.
“Well, you’re probably going to call me weird and insane,” he says, “but I just wanted to check on you. You were pretty out of it when I dropped you off at your place.”
“You’re not stalking me now, are you?”
“No way!” he says. “I was just, y’know, in the neighbourhood. I was actually about to call it a night when I passed your apartment and then I saw you up here. Must be fate, huh?”
“Fate sure is weird,” You muse pensively, pursing your lips. You pause, squinting your eyes into the darkness. “Thanks, by the way. For helping me that night and bringing me back. Is there anyway I can repay you?”
“Repay me? Oh, no, no!” he says. “That’s not what this is all about, I promise. What I do is for the city and for the people. I can sleep better at night knowing thugs like that guy are being taken care of properly.”
“That’s a pretty commendable thing to do,” You say. “You gotta be pretty brave to put yourself in danger each night.”
“It’s nothing I can’t handle.”
There’s a smirk in his voice that stretches his words into a confident and smug drawl. You, in turn, smile bashfully. You look down at your shoes and then back up at the shadows.
“Can you step out of the dark?” You ask. “I want to see you.”
“Ah, but then that’ll ruin the mystique,” he points out. “And where’s the fun in that?”
You shake your head at him, pearly white teeth gnawing down on your lower lip to hide the smile that tugs at your mouth. You pull your cardigan tighter around your torso, ignoring the distant sound of a wailing siren.
“Maybe I’ll see you again,” he says. “I have to go but it was a pleasure meeting you━ uh, what was your name again?”
“I never told you,” You say. “And if I do, it’ll ruin the mystique, won’t it? Where’s the fun in that?”
He laughs into the night, a sound so genuine and amiable. “Fair enough. Well, it was a pleasure to meet you, despite the terrible circumstances. Try to stay out of trouble, okay? And get some sleep!”
You can hear him moving, as if preparing to leave. You step forward, mouth opening to stop him, but then he is gone, the sound of feet leaping into the air the last thing you hear from him. By the time you rush to the other side of the roof and look around frantically for any sight of him, you spot the mysterious vigilante as a tiny speck soaring from building to building. You smile as you watch him disappear amongst the horizon, bleeding into the glow of lights until he is gone, becoming one with the city altogether.
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The days pass in a very typical blur.
Sunday comes and goes much too fast where both you and Jungkook work diligently for a few hours at the café before the rest of the week goes by. You hardly see Jungkook except for at night, as always past 9 p.m., when he stumbles wearily into the café and plops down in his usual seat. And, with the days passing as usual, there are still the consistent reports of sightings of this mysterious Spider-Man. Though you seem to go about your routinely oblivious days, you are all Jungkook is able to think about. You are all he usually thinks about these days, anyway, and all he is thinking about that very Wednesday when he’s supposed to be hanging out with Taehyung.
It isn’t uncommon to see Jungkook with Taehyung around campus. They have, after all, been best friends since the moment they met in their small daycare they attended together. Taehyung is more than accustomed with Jungkook’s habits and knows the boy in and out, including every secret and every crush he’s ever had (which, for the most part, has been you). That Thursday afternoon they are both sitting at the park just across from campus where most students from the school spend their time. Jungkook’s perched on the edge of the large concrete water fountain in the middle of the bustling meadow, with Taehyung reclining on his back, basking in the sun with a bag of chips on his stomach. They both spot you walking by with a friend and wave at Jungkook which causes Taehyung to roll his eyes.
“Dude,” he sighs, exasperated. “Just ask her out already. She already said she’s crushing on you.”
Jungkook looks down at his friend and shakes his head. “No, she said she’s crushing on Spider-Man. Not me.”
Taehyung, who was in the middle of shoving a handful of chips in his mouth, stops suddenly. He pushes himself up, nearly dropping the bag of chips, eyes wide as he stares at Jungkook in utter disbelief.
“Are you kidding me, dude?” He asks incredulously. “You’re the same person, you idiot.”
“But she doesn’t know that,” Jungkook explains calmly. “As far as she knows, Spider-Man is this cool dude and I’m just… I’m just me. Jungkook. Boring and not charming.”
“So then tell her the truth,” Taehyung says. “Y’know, use yourself as your own wingman.”
As he shoves another handful of chips into his mouth, Jungkook shakes his head once more. He’s already thought of this idea plenty of times before but it’s not as easy as it seems. The responsibility that comes with putting on that mask each night is followed by even greater risks for the people he’s around. Telling you the truth could only end in one way, anyway.
“I can’t do that,” Jungkook says. “What if I tell her and she’s let down?”
Taehyung would shake his head disapprovingly at his friend this time and mumble something along the lines of, “You think too much.”
And while that may be true in Jungkook’s case, Taehyung just wouldn’t understand. There is a reason Taehyung is the only person who knows about Jungkook’s secret and he is already endangering the life of his friend. To tell anyone else would only result in a much more terrible outcome for not only the people around him, but Jungkook himself. Still, though, as Jungkook settles back on the edge of the fountain and looks in the direction of the path you had vanished along, there is an inkling of a voice in the back of his mind that nags him, urges him, to tell you.
Jungkook sighs. He finds it ironic that anytime he puts on the red mask and flings himself into perilous danger, he is always confident, never once wavering, and yet when he is just himself, just another mundane passerby, that same heart of steel that fuels his will and spirit suddenly pales in comparison.
If only he could be so brave without that mask.
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On Friday evening well into the night when what little stars you can see in the polluted sky begins to blend with the glowing light from building windows as far as the eye can see you find yourself at an overcrowded and clamorous party. You had been more than content with spending the start of your weekend not working but, upon entering the party, you find yourself not nearly enjoying the time as well as you had hoped you would. You’ve long since lost sight of your friends and the guy standing in the corner of the living room who had been eyeing you for most of the night had most certainly not helped with your mood ━ and, if anything, turned you off from drinking.
Albeit still slightly buzzed from the few drinks you had earlier been bestowed in the quintessential red solo cup that defines every high school and college party you’ve been to, you stumble out onto the balcony of one of the rooms for a breath of fresh air and are startled to find you aren’t alone when you spot the figure of a young man leaning against the railing.
“Oh, shit, sorry. Didn’t know anyone was out here━”
As the figure turns around, you are relieved and thrilled to see it’s Jungkook. You stop yourself, clamping your mouth shut, and smile up at him with a dainty hand on your hip. A look of recognition dawns on his face at the sight of you, his own lips tugging into a friendly grin.
“That’s okay,” he says. “Feel free to join me on the balcony of escaped party attendees ━ because I assume that’s what you’re doing? Escaping?”
You push yourself forward to the railing, standing beside him as he turns back around to face the city. “I just needed a break from it all. You? I gotta say I’m pleasantly surprised to see you here.”
He flashes you a sheepish smile, resting his arms atop the railing and leaning forward. “Exactly. Parties aren’t really my scene. My friend, Taehyung, dragged me out here but this balcony seems to be my favourite place.”
“Well, if it means anything,” You tell him, “I’m glad you came.”
When you look at Jungkook, you find him already gazing at you, his lower lip tucked between his teeth. His carob eyes crinkle with the smile on his face and he finds himself still staring at you even long after you have turned away to stare up at the sky. It’s a surprisingly warm night, though you silently thank yourself for throwing on the denim jacket you’re wearing earlier in the day whenever a cool breeze breaks through the city.
“It’s kind of sad, isn’t it?” You say after a while. “That we can’t see the stars from the city. That’s why I like camping. Star-gazing and watching the sunrise are two of my favourite things. It kind of keeps me humble in a way.”
“That’s an interesting way of thinking about that,” Jungkook says. “Sometimes I get so carried away by being in the city; it’s kind of nice just to slow things down once in a while.”
“I’m glad I’m not the only one who feels that way,” You crane your neck to cast a steady gaze across the towering buildings in the near distance. “The city can be pretty beautiful, too, though.”
“You think so?”
“Of course,” Your eyes twinkle playfully at a sudden thought that seems to warm your face. “And some of the people help make it beautiful. Like that spider guy. What he’s doing for the city is incredible.”
“Ah, right. Spider-Man.” The words leave Jungkook in a small exhale. “You must really like him, huh?”
“Who doesn’t?”
“I can name a few. Like the police.”
“They’re just scared of him because he’s doing their job better than they ever could.”
Jungkook chuckles lightly. He shakes his head as he looks down at his clasped hands and the calluses on his fingers from past tribulations. It’s silent again, in which time the thump of bass from the party ensuing behind you two fills the air, followed by a burst of vigorous chanting and cheering from within.
“Hey, can I ask you something?” Jungkook asks suddenly, his voice timid.
“Go ahead.”
Jungkook pauses, thinking. He seems to struggle with forming his thoughts into words as he remains silent for a second too long. “Okay, let’s say I know this person really important to me, and let’s say I have this thing ━ this equally as important thing ━ that I really want to tell them. The thing is, I can’t just do that because if I do, I’m afraid that this person will be let down. What do you think I should do?”
You’re quiet as you ponder his words, looking pensively down at the city below.
“Well,” You hum slowly, “what’s the point in hiding behind a fake front the whole time? It’s kind of like hiding behind a mask your whole life, right? And I think life is too short for that because, before you know it, it’ll be too late. What if you don’t tell this person and you end up regretting it for the rest of your life? I don’t know. Sometimes I think that you just meet the right person in life who’s worth that risk.”
Jungkook turns to look at you and suddenly your eyes meet in a steady, thoughtful gaze. His own stare softens at whatever sort of thoughts flood his mind and you wonder if his eyes have always been that shimmering. His tousled dark brown locks flitter slightly in the breeze, his pink lips parted ever so slightly. You open your mouth to speak, uttering his name in a euphonious whisper.
“Jungkook, I━”
But your voice is cut off abruptly by the influx sound of wailing sirens down below that convey some sort of grim situation unfolding somewhere in the formidable darkness of the night. Both you and Jungkook press yourselves over the railing, squinting down at the crowded streets below just in time to see a flash of blinking red lights and a mass of both police cars, ambulances, and firetrucks. From somewhere in the background from within the party, you can hear a voice exclaiming, “Dude, there’s a fire around the corner from here! The whole street is blocked off.”
“No way. What the hell happened?” Another voice asks.
You exchange a wary glance with Jungkook before slipping back into the party. A small group has formed around the t.v. in the living room, on which is playing the local news and showcasing a burning apartment building, the vicious orange flames of which billow out of opened windows and all but consume the top floor as clouds of gray and black smoke invade the night sky. There’s a reporter talking fast into the camera, describing in detail what had happened to the building on a nearby street, but your eyes can only stay fixated on the monstrous flames. You don’t realize Taehyung has somehow found both you and his friend and is standing behind the other boy, watching the news unfold before him. Unbeknownst to you, his stare flickers nervously to Jungkook and then━
“Shit,” Jungkook curses suddenly. “I gotta go.”
You turn to look at him curiously. “Go where? It’s midnight on a Friday.”
“I completely forgot I had to pick my aunt up from the subway,” he says. “She works the late night shifts and I can’t let her walk alone in the dark like this. I’ll see you both later! Let me know what happens with the fire.”
Taehyung, who seems more than accustomed to Jungkook’s abrupt pardon of his presence, nods. “Will do.”
The boy is already a few feet away from you, rushing toward the front door of the room, but you stop him before he can slip out of your reach entirely.
“Wait, Jungkook!” You call out. He spins around to look at you almost immediately, a look of panic on his face. “Don’t forget we have to meet up at the library on Sunday to work on the project.”
“Got it,” he says, raising his two forefingers to his forehead in a mock salute. He turns back around and begins bounding towards the door, giving you two one last wave. “See you later!”
The door slams shut behind him and the party, despite the group crowded around the t.v., carries on in a cacophonous sound of drunken yelling and dumb music, completely and utterly oblivious. You let out a sigh as you turn back to the t.v., noting Taehyung’s presence still beside you. He takes a satisfying sip of whatever beverage is occupying the red cup in his hand and nods.
“That’s Jungkook for you,” he says. His voice is a tired sigh, dispirited almost, as he thinks of the boy that has been his friend since freshman year of highschool. Just before he turns away, you hear him muttering, “Always putting others before him.”
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You don’t see Jungkook that Sunday.
Whether or not he had entirely blown you off or had simply forgotten, you wait and wait in complete silence in the school library for nearly three hours as every call and every text you send to his phone goes otherwise unnoticed or ignored. It is entirely unlike Jungkook to completely vanish and though you want to be mad, you are more disappointed than anything else. You spend your time at a table by yourself, books and papers sprawled out before you, as you try to work diligently on the last piece of writing you need for the assignment to be complete whilst trying to not let your eyes wander to the time on the clock hanging on the wall opposite you but to no avail.
In a corner above the front desk, you see a t.v. propped on the wall that plays the silent image of the news as they recall the events from that Friday at the burning building. Fortunately, that spider guy had arrived before any casualties could happen and you watch, for the third time since Friday, as the recording footage shows the red and blue hero swinging defiantly into the wall of fire and pulling various residents from the fire. A duo of girls sitting next to you croons dreamily over the masked man, especially as they witness him emerging from the fire with a small and unscathed Corgi dog in his hands that, you admit, is rather admirable.
On Wednesday night, you find yourself stuck in the sparkling confinements of the café bound to the six hour shift you were in the midst of completing. It’s surprisingly busy for a day in the middle of the week, though you assume that’s only because each customer is in a rush to seek refuge from the surprisingly cold evening. You hadn’t even been thinking about Jungkook when he makes himself known in the café some time after 9 p.m. You hear the bell ring above the door, feel a short gust of shocking wind, before it shuts behind him. When you look up instinctively to greet the newcomer and lay your eyes on the boy, your words fall short.
You watch as he stumbles forward, his feet practically dragging behind him in worn up Converse shoes. He looks exhausted ━ even more so than usual ━ and judging by his dishevelled hair and crumpled clothes and the way he seems to walk in a daze as if he is in another world, you assume he hasn’t slept in a while. He still hauls his backpack with one strap slung over his shoulder that he drops lazily to the ground beside a table before he plops himself down into the seat with a groan in one swift motion. What’s most strange are the blossoming bruises on his neck and the fresh cut on the highest point of his left cheekbone.
You hate that you’re so weak for that boy; that even though he completely ignored you, you still pity him. Wondering what sorts of trouble he’s been finding himself in lately, you pour him a cup of steaming black coffee and walk towards his table. He hardly even notices you as his head is buried in his folded arms atop the table, though he peeks up past his bangs when you slide the coffee beside him.
“I’d hate to see the other guy,” You hum.
His eyes brighten at the sight of you and he pushes himself up, raking a hand through his unkempt hair in a poor attempt to fix it. “Y/N━”
“Where were you, Jungkook?” You ask sternly, suddenly. “On Sunday? I waited for you for over three hours. I called you and texted you and you completely ignored me. You could have at least gotten back to me. I had to finish the rest of the assignment by myself.”
His brow creases with concern, his stare softening apologetically. He leans forward, suddenly helpless.
“I’m sorry,” he stammers. “I━I didn’t mean to━ Something came up.”
“Whatever, Jungkook,” You sigh. “It’s fine. I can’t stay and chat but I’ll have you know I already handed the assignment in online. You’re welcome. Oh, and the coffee’s on the house. You look like crap.”
You spin on your heel and march away to help another customer before Jungkook can even try to talk to you. He watches as you slip from his grasp, a frown scrunching up your face that is forced to soften as you approach another table. He collapses against his chair and groans inwardly, rubbing his hand over his aching and swollen face. He knows you’re mad at him but he can’t quite tell if you’ll stay like that for long. He doesn’t blame you anyway, but he couldn’t just tell you where he had gone or what had happened. Could he?
It’s much to his dismay that you don’t talk to him the next day, or on Tuesday, or on Wednesday, or on Thursday. He tries to find you around campus but he is always too late and, instead, finds you slipping away from him each time. He pops into the café a few nights and though you work both nights, it’s still much too busy to actually talk to you and so he, doing what he does best, falls asleep at the table as he silently broods. Whether or not it’s your anger purposely driving you further from him or simply life intervening, Jungkook wants nothing more than to apologize ━ if he can even get close enough to you to do so.
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Finding yourself on the rooftop of your apartment building isn’t uncommon. Most of your free time is spent up there, either watching the night sky or gazing at the busy city under a cerulean blue sky and golden sun. That Friday night is no different. With no homework and no social gathering to devote yourself to, you sneak off to the roof and position yourself in just a spot where you can see the towering buildings of each borough in each direction you cast your gaze. You would have been content falling asleep up there, with nothing but the sound of the distant hum of cars to lull you and the view of the moon and window lights that act as the metropolis’s stars.
You all but lose track of time, unaware of whether or not you have been there for minutes or hours but you don’t entirely mind. You would be lying, too, if you denied that there was some sort of inkling of hope in you that hoped maybe you would see him again. That is why when you hear the soft plop of feet dropping to the ground moments later, you are not at all startled by the sudden presence, though you are astounded by his arrival, as if on cue. You don’t even need him to speak to know who it is and when you feel the smile ghost along your lips, there is a moment of pause where you question your own sanity for being so happy to see this masked and mysterious man. But he isn’t at all a mystery at this point when you feel as if you’ve acquainted yourself with him well enough.
“You shouldn’t be out here all alone,” The voice that drifts through the shadows of the roof is familiar, gentle. “It’s dark. Who knows who could come up here?”
“Yeah,” You snort. “Wouldn’t want any strangers sneaking up on me ━ or masked vigilantes who seem to be following me.”
You turn to look at him but are greeted with nothing except emptiness. He lingers somewhere in the darkness and you squint your eyes, desperately trying to spot him. He laughs, the sound so silvery and smooth like honey.
“Someone’s following you?” he replies tauntingly. “Do I have to deal with them again?”
“Why are you always hiding in the dark?”
The sudden question seems to cause him to hesitate. It’s silent before you hear his voice wander over to you.
“To add to the mystique?” he says.
“Now that’s suspicious. Maybe I should call the police on you.”
“They would never be able to catch me.”
“Someone’s cocky,” You take a step toward the darkness, in the direction of the sound of his voice. “Did the fame get to you already?”
You hear him take a step back from you and it, subsequently, causes you to linger. You wait before stubbornly pushing yourself forward once more.
“What fame? People want to lock me up.”
“And most people are in love with you. I overheard a few girls gushing over you saving that dog from that burning building the other day,” You giggle. “Does it mean anything to you?”
“Ah, well,” You can hear the grin in his voice, can see the silhouette of his figure not too far from you, “I gotta admit the attention is pretty nice. But no one knows who I am without this mask so it doesn’t really matter.”
“How does that make you feel?”
One step forward, another backward. You pause; at this rate, you’ll have chased him all the way to the other side of the roof.
“I don’t mind. It keeps me humble,” he replies. “But it also stops me a lot of the time, y’know? With this mask on, I feel invincible; with it off, I feel useless. But someone pretty important to me once told me that life is too short to constantly hide behind a mask.”
A wide, genuine smile stretches across your face. You take another step forward and this time he stands still. From where you are, you can see the tall and lean figure, adorned in the signature tight red and blue suit.
“That’s pretty smart of them to say.”
“She is pretty admirable. Much braver than I could ever be without this mask.”
He turns around from you before you can reach him. You watch as he casually strides forward a few paces to the barrier behind him, which he props his hands against to lean on. He seems to be lost in thought, perhaps struggling with some sort of inner turmoil. You tiptoe in suit, cautious as you approach him. You can see the muscles that strain from beneath his suit, the heave and fall of his chest.
“Can I know your name?” Your voice is a gentle whisper that carries to him with the wind. “Your real name?”
When he turns around to face you once more, you’re standing only a few feet away from him. You take another step forward, closing the short distance between the two of you and are made aware of how much taller he really is. The way he towers over you is almost comforting, familiar, that no emotionless red mask could cause you to stray. He’s so much more different up close in that suit. He hesitates before he forces himself to speak.
“I think,” he pauses. He swallows thickly, attempting to subdue the quickening race of his heart as he clamps his fingers into his sweaty palms. “I think you already know my name.”
This seems to pique your interest. Quirking a brow and cocking your head to the side, you stare up at the masked face that gazes back down at you. You aren’t entirely sure what compels you to do so, as it could be a complete disaster and not at all what you are expecting, but you slowly, so very slowly, reach up with your hands to grasp gingerly at his face. The red fabric beneath your fingertips is soft and as your digits brush lightly over his covered cheekbones, he hardly moves. For some reason, you can feel your heart hammering against your feeble chest, can hear it in your ears in tandem with the sound of passing traffic down below. His heart is beating just as fast, though he thinks it nearly stops when he feels your fingers begin to gently pull at the neck of his mask, sliding it upward.
The first poke of tanned skin has your heart quickening, your breath hitching in your throat. You tug the mask the rest of the way off and, finally, step back to look at the mysterious masked hero known as Spider-Man.
Jungkook.
It’s Jungkook.
The familiar boy stands before you, his hair a disheveled mess from the mask, his doe eyes even wider now in timid fear as he looks down at you. Everything is him, from his luscious pink lips, to the freckle on his neck, the piercings in his ears, that tiny scar he’s had since he was a child on his cheek. The city lights and moon illuminate him from behind and he seems nervous as he anticipates a reaction but you are much too busy admiring him. Your fingers trace delicately over the fresh scar on his face that he had brandished at the café only a few nights ago. A breath of satisfaction slips past your parted lips and then you’re laughing silently to yourself.
The boy looks dumbfounded at first, and then he quirks a brow. “What’s so funny?”
“I knew it,” You shake your head at nothing in particular, or perhaps the way you continue to giggle.
Jungkook suddenly looks shocked, though he instantly seems to relax. He studies the smile that stretches across your cheeks in awe, brightening your face in all its glory. “How did you know?”
“Well, you’re not exactly that smooth, Jungkook,” You grin. “The late nights coming into the café, always scratched up and always tired as if you’ve ran all over the city; always getting jumpy when you hear police sirens ━ like the night at the party. Not to mention that one time at the café when the news was on and they were talking about a robbery at the bank and hostages being held and you ran right out of there only for Spider-Man to show up on the scene minutes later. It’s all very suspicious, don’t you think?”
He can’t help the laugh that escapes him, a joyous sound of content. He leans against the palm of your hand that is cradling the side of his face with the scar.
“Right,” he sighs. “All very suspicious.”
His stare locks with yours in a steady gaze and neither of you can turn away. His eyes sparkle like the stars in the sky, lingering with it a sense of hope and content. He is mesmerizing, with the city he devotes his time to saving in the horizon beyond him. It’s near impossible to look away, but why would you want to? It happens much like a blink of an eye, a frail beat of your heart; it comes with the passing of a car whizzing by on the streets down below and is as much startling as the sudden breeze that sends chills down your spine.
He begins to lean forward ━ or maybe that was you? Your eyes flutter shut, your anticipation held with a deep breath, until finally your lips meet with his though you hardly have time to relish in it. Almost as soon as your lips touch, he’s pulling away quickly. He doesn’t move too far and his mouth lingers just over yours. His eyes remain fixated on the curl of your lips for a moment too long before he rips them away to meet your hazy gaze.
“Wait,” he hums. “You━ You said you were crushing on Spider-Man. Does that mean you knew this whole time and━ and like me?”
The question is so like Jungkook; so innocent and silly and genuine that it causes a sweet giggle to bubble at your lips. He’s always been so oblivious to these kinds of things and so maybe that’s what pushes you to kiss him next. Your lips lock for a second time and, though it is just as fleeting, you note with joy the softness of his mouth as it folds over yours. You part from him with a breathless gasp, your nose brushing lightly against his as a smile stretches across your face.
“What do you think, bugboy?” Your voice is barely above a whisper, a playful taunt that makes Jungkook smile wide.
He kisses you this time, slow and passionate as if attempting to pour every single one of his emotions and thoughts for you into the single intimate action. His hands grasp at either side of your face, carefully pulling you closer to him to deepen the kiss and you, instinctively, melt against his broad chest. Your fingers trail up the lean muscle of his arms to twine in the hair at the nape of his neck, tugging with yearning. His hands fall to your waist, enveloping you in his body, and when he parts from you, he rests his forehead against yours.
“Can I show you something?”
You nod. His eyes light up and then he’s jumping up onto the cement barrier behind him, turning around to look at you. You gasp from the sudden movement, your stomach churning unpleasantly at the sight of him quite literally standing on the edge of a building only to remind yourself he’s Spider-Man. He’s done plenty more reckless things than this. He holds his hand out, a reassuring smile on his face.
“Do you trust me?” he asks.
There’s no hesitation as you answer him with another firm nod. “Of course. Always.”
“Then take my hand,” he says. “I’ll never do anything to harm you, you know that.”
You do know that. Jungkook wouldn’t hurt a fly; he’s too good and precious for the world you live in and he says yes far too often to people who most likely don’t deserve it, but he knows when to stand up for not only himself but others as well. You are just one of the few he cares for wholeheartedly and you know that.
You reach out carefully and place your hand in his surprisingly cold and large ones. His fingers wrap around yours as he helps you up onto the barrier, holding you closely toward him.
You take a deep breath, shut your eyes, and put every ounce of your trust into this single, courageous boy ━ and you let yourself fall with him.
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You’re roused awake by the sound of light tapping against your bedroom window.
It startles you at first, causing you to jolt upright into a sitting position as you look around frantically at your empty and dark room; the only light comes from the city life and the moon outside, shedding a warm glow onto the floor before it. For a moment, you think you had just dreamt the noise but then you hear it again, low and near. You crane your neck to look and first see a shadow but, as the figure shifts into view, you’re able to see the familiar young man in red and blue. Your heart leaps in your chest and suddenly you’re scrambling off your feet, throwing yourself at the window to throw it open.
The night Jungkook had admitted to being Spider-Man and jumped up onto the edge of the roof, holding his hand out to you in a silent question of trust, he leaves you with a night that you swear you will cherish forever. Wary of where he will go but entirely consenting of his spontaneity, he surprises you by carrying you throughout the city, swinging from building to building in an extraordinary feat that feels as if you’re flying; and, as if that hadn’t been a big enough thrilling shock, he brings you to the very top of the Empire State Building, just under the antenna. No one is there and no one can see you and, with Jungkook under the brightening sky with the view of New York stretching out into the horizon before you, you feel as if you have the whole world in the very palm of your hand.
You sit with Jungkook that night, talking, not talking, listening intently to him as he recounts the tale of how he had turned into the masked hero with his peculiar powers, and watching the sunrise from beyond the very tops of buildings and skyscrapers. There are no words to describe the breathtaking view from one of the highest points in the city, watching as the golden sun peaks over the horizon and sets the city ablaze in saturated warm hues of orange, pink, and purple, mingling together in one impressionistic masterpiece that could put even the greatest of painters to shame. The light reflects against the glass panes of windows in a mirage similar to flickering flames that never scathe the city, but instead seem to enhance the beauty it holds.
You never want the night to end but eventually it does and, when he returns you to your bedroom window with one parting kiss, it and Jungkook’s lips are all you can dream about.
A week has passed since then, in which time you’ve done nothing but find yourself growing closer with Jungkook. He’s all you’ve been able to think about these days. So, to hear him and see him at your window is enough to make butterflies form in the very pit of your stomach. You see him sitting on the fire escape just outside your window, leaning against the building looking even more exhausted than usual. Another fresh cut lines his cheek in a stripe of red though he doesn’t seem to mind much for it as he dozes off slightly. You push open the window, startling him awake, and poke your head outside. A weary smile tugs at his lips at the sight of you.
“Well, this is romantic,” You stifle the giggle that bubbles at your mouth. “Thank you for not throwing rocks at my window, Romeo. To what do I owe this pleasure of seeing you at two in the morning?”
“Sorry, did I wake you?” he asks sheepishly. “I just wanted to see you.”
His response earns a shy smile stretching across your face. “No, you didn’t wake me,” You say with a shake of your head (though the way you comb your fingers through your mused hair tells him otherwise). “What happened to your face, Jungkook?”
He reaches up to his face, as if momentarily forgetting the cut, winces, and then drops his hand from his face. He grins wolfishly, attempting to shrug it off. “Oh, this little thing? It’s nothing, don’t worry about it. I just got caught up in a little fight but I’m fine. I swear. You really should see the other guy.”
The smug tone in his voice as he rambles on makes you stare at him in amusement. You sigh as you take a step back, saying, “Come inside. I’ll clean that for you.”
“Well, if you insist.”
He smirks as he pulls himself through the window and into your room. His eyes wander around the four walls, noting the decor that lines it, the shelves with all your personal trinkets and belongings, the clothes littered on the floor, and the empty take-out box of Chinese food that rests atop your desk. There’s a soft aroma of something sweet that smells like you ━ possibly a perfume or a soap or shampoo? ━ and it makes Jungkook’s head spin pleasantly. He asks about your day and then sits on the bed and, as you tell him about your boring classes as you rummage around your bathroom for something to clean his wound with, he smiles.
He finds your room comforting ━ or maybe he just finds your presence comforting. Either way, over time you find that this would only be a common occurrence throughout the next month. He startles you the first few times he shows up but then you begin to stay awake a little longer, waiting eagerly by the window as you wait for him to arrive. Most times he’s bruised or has small and fresh cuts, of which you either hand him an ice packet or clean the cut; sometimes he isn’t even hurt and instead claims simply that he just wanted to see you before you went to sleep. But each time he listens to you and your day, asking about yourself rather than him and no matter how hard you try to pry information out of him about what had possibly happened to him throughout his night, he swiftly brushes it off. You don’t mind either way ━ you just want to see him as much as you can, anyway.
There is one night, however, where things seem to go entirely different.
You’re curled up in bed reading a book when you hear the light tapping on your window. You’ve come to leave the window pried open slightly as you wait for him, but even so he still takes the time to knock to signal his arrival. You instantly climb to your feet, wandering over to the window and tossing it open with a flourish. As Jungkook climbs in through the small space, you note the tight suit he’s wearing is slashed at the top of his arm and both the skin underneath it and on his face is bruised and cut; other than that, and judging by the cheeky smile on his face, he seems to be ok.
You shake your head at him, smiling gingerly as you muse, “Who’s the damsel in distress now, bugboy?”
Jungkook smirks, prodding your sides with his fingers and causing you to squirm as you walk past him. “There’s no shame in needing a little help every once and awhile, right? I don’t know what I would do without you.”
“Sit down,” You tell him, winking up at him. “I’ll be right back, okay?”
Minutes later you return to sit by his side on the bed, cleaning his cuts as per usual and, while he has a frozen packet of peas pressed to his bruised and sore shoulder, you are busying yourself by sewing the cut in his suit with blue thread you had found in your room. In the midst of your work, perhaps you press too generously down on his recent wound, as he winces slightly and shifts on top of your bed. You crane your neck to look up at him, studying him curiously. He seems to notice your stare and quirks a brow as he looks down at you.
“What’s up?”
Your fingers stop their work on his suit and, remembering where the cut had broken his skin just slightly underneath the tear, brush lightly over the tender flesh covered in gauze. “Does it hurt?”
Jungkook shakes his head, sitting up a little straighter. “Hurt? No, no, of course not. It just, uh━ It isn’t the most pleasant. But this isn’t the worst I’ve been after a night in the suit so I can handle it.”
Your eyes study his battered face in some sort of admiration, albeit mixed with timid nervousness. What sort of things had he encountered, had he been through, that he won’t tell you?
“Are you ever afraid?” You ask gently.
“No way,” he shakes his head, but not before you spot the confident grin he flashes you. “It’s honestly nothing I can’t handle by now. It’s not so bad, either. It’s kinda weird. I mean, ever since getting bitten, I’ve found the healing process is a whole lot faster.”
Maybe he notices the lingering uneasiness in your eyes, the way you seem to doubt him. He reaches out with his fingers to gingerly brush against the side of your face in a swift flourish as he tilts your head a little higher. He smiles something warm that makes your heart melt as you lean your face against the palm of his calloused hand. To avoid the prying stare he gives you, you smile lightly and shake your head, attempting to change the subject.
“Dunno, bugboy. Are there any perks to this job?”
Jungkook snorts as you finish sewing his suit. As you discard the needle and leftover thread, he says, “There are. Like, for instance, knowing the city is a little safer. Then there’s the fact that Spider-Man seems to have a lot of admirers…”
“I thought you said it doesn’t matter anyway because no one knows who you are.”
“Well, there is you,” he says. “And I gotta say you’re a pretty good perk.”
A blush tinges your cheeks as you sit across from him. Your eyes flicker down the suit that adorns him and you try to bite back the lighthearted snicker that bubbles at your chest. “I was gonna say a perk is this tight suit. At least, for me it is. Your ass has never looked more fantastic.”
Jungkook suddenly bursts out into laughter, throwing his head back. When he looks back at you, his hand finds the side of your face once more and pulls you towards him. With your lips hovering just over his, he mumbles something, anything, just for the sake of responding despite already being lost in you.
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
Then you’re kissing him.
You’ve come to find that Jungkook’s lips are entirely irresistible and the more you kiss him, the more you wonder why you hadn’t confessed to him earlier. He’s gentle as he lets his lips fold over yours, mouth dancing with mouth in a passionate yearning. But there’s a certain type of underlying insatiable hunger that seems to wash over both you and him and fast. Your fingers rake up the side of his face and tangle in his messy locks and soon he’s pulling you onto the bed, onto him. You instinctively straddle his lap, craning your neck so as to deepen the kiss, never once breaking apart for air. But something seems to happen, something that startles Jungkook so deeply. Perhaps it’s the way you grasp his hair a little tighter, the way he heard you gasp when he bites down gently on the side of your jaw, the way your hips fit over his; or perhaps it’s the way you tug off your shirt in an attempt to get closer to him, displaying to him the plain white bra you’re wearing that all culminate into something more. He knows where this is going, you know where this is going ━ and though Jungkook would want nothing more than to carry on, he’s reminded of a terrifying and prominent thought that has always haunted him the moment he made that mask.
You feel the way he tenses beneath you and, in the next quick second, he’s pulling apart from you and you, so dazed and lost, gasping for air, stare down at him dumbfounded.
“What’s wrong, Jungkook?” You ask. “Did I hurt you? Is your arm okay?”
“I’m fine,” he says weakly.
You grin as you press another kiss to his throat, mumbling into his neck, “Good, then let’s━”
“No.”
“What?”
You sit back on his lap suddenly, staring at him with a flushed face. Your hair is mussed messily, a red bruise blossoms on your jawline that Jungkook had graced you with, and one strap of your bra hangs daintily over your shoulder and Jungkook can’t help but notice how utterly sexy you look. He groans inwardly, tearing his gaze to look up at you. He swallows thickly, wincing at the bright and innocent twinkle in your eyes.
“We━” he pauses and then says, “We can’t do this.”
You quirk a brow. “What do you mean?”
“I mean,” he says slowly, carefully, “we can’t do this. I’m━ I’m sorry. I didn’t know what I was thinking but I should have stopped this sooner.”
“Stop what?” Your voice is weak, small. You know what he’s referring to but you don’t want to believe it just yet.
Fuck, I can’t do this, Jungkook curses to himself. If he had just stayed away from you from the beginning, this wouldn’t even be happening. He wouldn’t be about to hurt you or himself.
“Us,” he whispers. “There can’t be an us, Y/N.”
Your brows knit together in confusion but your eyes are wide with fear. “What are you talking about? How can there not be an us? I thought━ I thought you wanted this.”
When he hesitates to respond, you’re quick to slide off of his lap, standing to your feet. Suddenly you’re panicking, embarrassed. He sees the way your lips are pulled tightly in a thin line, the way you rake your hands through your hair, mumbling, “Oh my god,” as you search for a shirt. Jungkook springs to his feet, grasping onto your waist but you easily slither out of his reach, clutching your shirt to your chest. To you, you think you have just made a fool of yourself, nearly striping naked for a boy who apparently doesn’t want you. Jungkook knows this is what you’re thinking and it pains him so.
“No, no, I do,” he says. “I do want this! I just can’t do it.”
“And why not?” You snap hotly. “You’re not making any sense. Either you do or you don’t want us to be a thing.”
“It’s not that simple━”
“It sure seems like it is.”
“You wouldn’t understand.”
“Any explanation would be better than none,” You say firmly, “and simultaneously making me look like an idiot for looking so eager.”
Jungkook sighs heavily. He takes a step back from you, running both hands frustratedly through his hair, letting the muscles in his biceps flex as he does so. When he looks back at you, he’s solemn.
“There can’t be an us because I’m just gonna put you in danger this way,” he says. “People are out there looking for me! Not just the police, but hardcore criminals, gangs, thugs, murderers. If they find me, or if they find out that you’re close to me or know me, they’ll hurt you too. I can’t have that, Y/N.”
“But I can handle it,” You insist.
“I can’t,” Jungkook’s voice is stern, set in place. “I can’t have that on my conscience, knowing that if you get hurt, it’s because of me. That’s all I ever worry about, from the second that I put this mask on. No one knows about me being Spider-Man and I kept it that way for a reason. Don’t you think I could have flaunted that I was this supposed super cool new hero? I didn’t do that because of you; because of the people that I’m close to.”
“I don’t care,” Your voice is feeble, cracking. “I don’t care if I get hurt. If you can handle it, then so can I! I just want to be with you, Jungkook. I━ I love you━”
Jungkook hears the words you blurt out quickly but he doesn’t seem to necessarily register them at once. A stiff silence settles in the room between the two of you, an undeniable form of the point of no return, except you don’t regret the words you say. You mean them wholeheartedly because you have always admired and loved Jungkook, from the little boy next door to this young hero before you. You stare at him shyly, albeit unwavering. A panic washes over him, drains his face of any colour, and suddenly it feels as if he can’t breathe, his chest concaving in on his shrill heart. As the words begin to register in his mind, he can only sorrowfully gaze at you; but the lack of silence has your confidence paling and soon you’re looking away, shaking your head. A pained expression paints your features and though it hurts Jungkook more than any other wound that has been inflicted upon him in fights on the street prior to this, he knows he has to do this.
You already know his answer before he even speaks it. When he does say the final words that leave you in such an excruciating and unbearable pain, he has already fled, grabbing his mask and escaping out of the window, escaping from you, and into the heart of the city. When he’s gone and you’re alone in the thick silence do his words finally return to you and are the cause of the broken heart you are forced to nurse through muddled tears over the aimless days to come:
“That’s what I was afraid of.”
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You don’t see Jungkook the next day or the day after that.
In fact, you don’t see him for three entire weeks. He stops showing up at the café late at night, stops attending the classes he has with you (or maybe he just blends well into the other somber looking faces), stops visiting your window in the early morning hours. Autumn bleeds numbly into the beginning shock of cold that is winter and, though there is no snow yet, you still feel the wrath of the frigid season. And, with the sudden loss of Jungkook, comes the abrupt and unwarranted disappearance of Spider-Man. Maybe it is your fault, maybe it is Jungkook’s fault. Either way, the masked enigma vanishes without a trace after your argument with Jungkook and the city’s crime, now freed from the vigilant watchful eyes of New York’s hero, spikes.
It feels almost as if the city has swallowed him whole or as if he has dropped off the face of the earth and the only thing to remember him by is the sudden havoc that ensues the city. The only thing you have to even know if Jungkook is still alive are the occasional updates from Taehyung who comes to befriend you if only to mention Jungkook every once and awhile just for the sake of easing your worried mind. You’re not so much mad as you are upset, but you care entirely more for his own wellbeing and to not hear from him causes you agony.
There is only one brisk moment in which you encounter Jungkook and it comes simply from a happenstance. You are not at all expecting to see him and nor is he expecting to see you. Rather, you are seated on a wooden bench in the park just beside your school on a day graced with a strange warmth for winter. Wrapped in a scarf and knit hat, you are flipping through the pages of a book for one of your classes when a figure stands before you, momentarily blocking the sun’s light from your view. As you glance up at the shadow cast over you, you are genuinely surprised to find Jungkook standing there. He looks, perhaps, even more so dishevelled than usual, his hair and attire all one negligent mess as if he couldn’t even find the strength to care for himself. Dark circles line his sunken eyes which stare down at you sorrowfully.
“Y/N… Can I talk to you?”
Your heart skips a beat. For a moment, you can’t turn away from him. For a moment, you fear that you will cave into him but then you are reminded of your broken heart. It’s what causes you to act in such haste, shaking your head up at him as you shut your book and shove it into your bag. You stand to your feet and brush past him and he, so caught up in your rejection of him and the own twinge of pain he feels in his heart, lingers by the bench. Then, he is walking after you, his footsteps swiftly catching him up to you.
“Y/N. Y/N, wait! Please, just let me━”
Jungkook breaks out into a sudden jog and only stops when he is standing in front of you. With your path blocked, you, too, come to a halt if only for the benefit of the doubt. He desperately tries to meet your eyes but you look past him, arms folded over your chest.
“Let me talk to you,” he begs. “Away from here. Just you and me. I can explain everything. I━”
“You had your chance, Jungkook,” You quip dryly. “You didn’t have to run away from me.”
“I wasn’t━ I didn’t mean to━” he tries, but is interrupted once more by your strained voice.
“You left me.” Now you are staring at him and Jungkook wishes that you hadn’t even bothered to give him the chance. Once full of shimmering admiration, your eyes are only glossed over with a pained disappointment. “I told you I loved you and you left me. You made me look so stupid and I━ No. No, I’m not doing this right now.”
You push yourself forward, walking carefully around him. He watches as you storm away, shaking your head to yourself. With one last despairing attempt, he calls out to you once more.
“I’m sorry,” he gasps. “I let you down. I know. I’m a failure.”
You stop. Your back is turned to him before you force yourself to look over at him and he foolishly thinks that maybe you’ll give him a chance to properly explain himself. Instead━
“You’re not a failure, Jungkook,” You tell him firmly. “I just━ I need to be alone right now. But don’t leave them. Don’t let them down. The city needs you.”
Jungkook flinches. He wants to call out to you again and pull you back to him, explain everything that is on his mind, but he can’t. Instead, he is forced to watch you walk away from him until you disappear amongst the crowd and even then he doesn’t move. He knows you’re disappointed with him.
He knows the whole city is disappointed with him ━ but the only person he wants to impress is you and he fears he’s ruined his only chance to.
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You hardly seem to sleep at night anymore, instead too caught up in the thoughts that plague your dreams. Instead of going to the roof as you usually do when you can’t sleep, you find yourself lying helplessly in your bed, staring up at the empty night sky through your window. One night, as you’re dozing off on your bed, your eyes blinking wearily as they try to focus on the shimmering moon, you begin to hear a noise. It’s similar to a light tapping, though it drowns out in the sound of a siren from somewhere down below. At first you believe you have just dreamt it but then you hear a loud thud, slightly muffled from somewhere outside your window. It jolts you awake, has you pushing yourself up into a sitting position, and glancing around your room for any sign of something that may have fallen in there before noticing a flash of movement from the corner of your eye.
Red and blue.
Interest piques your drowsy mind at the thought of it being Jungkook but why would he be returning to you now? You would have been entirely set on begrudgingly flopping back down onto your bed and turning your back to him had you not felt that dreadful feeling that something was terribly wrong. You can’t hear his voice and when you turn to get a better look, you find him standing on the fire escape just outside your window, slumped dangerously against the wall with his back to you. It is that dreaded feeling that pushes you out of your bed, drags you to your window which you lightly throw open, only to be met with a sight that leaves you in horrific shock.
Jungkook is adorned in his usual tight red and blue suit, though his mask is off and gives you a clear view of his weary face, now muted in colour, that your eyes land on first. His eyes are shut, his head rests against the brick wall of the building, and his skin is marked with dirt and grime, bruises and dried blood. As your eyes trail lower, following the curve of his arms to his hands that cradle his side, you finally spot the large wound from beneath his fingertips on the left of his abdomen, shimmering a bright crimson red. Immediately your heart sinks to your stomach as you gasp loudly.
“Oh my god! Jungkook!”
Shimmying your way through the window to get closer to the boy hardly has him stirring. Your hands come out to grasp at his face, forcing him from his slouched position.
“Jungkook, can you hear me? What the hell happened?”
His eyes flicker open momentarily at the touch of your warm fingers and he musters a small smirk, the corners of his lips lifting up just slightly.
“It’s just a scratch,” he mumbles hoarsely. “You should definitely see the other guy now.”
“You’re an idiot,” You grumble, your eyebrows knitting into a frown. “Why are you here? You should have gone to the hospital! I’m taking you right now━”
“No, no,” he protests stubbornly. He shifts his weight and immediately flinches from the pain. “No, you can’t. I’ll be okay. I just━ I need some time to rest.”
A deep sigh exhales past your parted lips at the mention of what had happened the night he fled so suddenly. Instead, you brush off the memory and give him a small shake of your head. “Here, stop talking. Let me help you get inside and I’ll see what I can do for you. This is gonna hurt a bit but can you move?”
Jungkook nods. As you wrap your arm carefully around his waist to shift him over to the window, he sucks in a deep breath and pushes himself forward. You try to help as he stiffly climbs in through the small window, grunting in pain as he does so, and then stumbling into your room and bumping into your desk next to the window, knocking a few trinkets down. As he leans dangerously against your now skewed desk, you hurry through the window and help him to his feet, pulling him over to your bed.
Despite the way he had left you so suddenly days ago, there is no air of stiffness in the room. The only thing that surrounds the two of you is a melancholic silence as you rummage around your room for the medkit you knew you had stowed away eons ago. For the most part, Jungkook patches himself up, downing a couple of painkillers, cleaning his wound in his abdomen and stitching it closed with a steady hand that has evidently done this before. You sit across from him in your desk chair, watching him intently as he sits on your bed, having shrugged off the top part of his suit and leaving his torso exposed. Other than the blood and dirt that cakes his golden skin, you take note of the toned muscles that make his abs and the way they flex in tandem with every time he winces as he tugs at his wound.
When he’s done, the silence is still unmoving. Jungkook wants to speak but his throat is dry and any time he dares open his mouth to say something, anything, he immediately recoils. It’s only when you’re helping him into your bathroom so he can take a shower does he finally gather the courage he needed all this time without his mask on. Before you can turn to walk away on him, he catches your attention by calling your name. When he speaks next, his voice is faint, terrified.
“I’m sorry.”
He gulps when you turn to look up at him and suddenly he’s made aware of the fact that the two of you are cramped so closely together in your small bathroom. It makes the shame he feels more prominent as he looks you in the eyes.
“You were the first person I could think of when this happened,” he says. “I━ I know I have no right to be here after what I did to you but I just needed someone. I needed you.”
Your heart flutters at his words though you hide this feeble act by turning away from him. “It’s whatever, Jungkook,” He hears you mumble faintly, your back to him. “Anything I can do to help.”
He wants to say something more but he hesitates again. He watches as you take a deep breath, the heave of your shoulders under a heavy weight, before you ultimately walk out of the door and shut it behind you, leaving it slightly ajar. You linger in your bedroom, standing in front of your window as you gaze out, absentmindedly gnawing on your lower lip as you fold your arms tighter around your torso. You hear the shower switch on, let the calming sound of falling water wash over you, and shut your eyes momentarily. You can still see the light from the bathroom pouring out into the darkness of your room from the angled door, and can see the steam start to cloud the mirror.
There’s something so indistinctly intimate about having him in your shower in the next room over after days of avoiding one another. You have every right to be enraged and upset with him and yet you aren’t. You can’t bring yourself to ever hate the boy in the room over. You understand why he left so abruptly and it makes sense but now, in that moment in time, with nothing but a wall dividing you two, there is a certain type of craving you can’t subdue. A craving and a yearning to be closer to him; to tell him how you feel before, if even, he decides to flee in the morning after.
You blame it on your stubbornness that pushes you forward. Really, it seems to happen in such a haze, a rush of adrenaline. One moment, you’re standing by the window; in the next moment, you’re by the bathroom door, your fingers clutching the handle. As you push it open, you can only see a misty silhouette of Jungkook’s figure from beyond the steamed glass doors of the shower. Your heart is hammering against your chest as you walk to the shower, slowly kicking off your shorts as you go.
Jungkook must hear you as you make your way into the bathroom because as soon as you carefully slide open the glass door, he’s already staring at you with a lack of surprise, noting the baggy t-shirt you wear and the way his heart flips when he imagines you in a similar shirt of his. You only meet his curious eyes, noting the water that trickles down his toned and glistening body and flattens his usual unkempt hair into his lashes. He shakes his hair out of his eyes and suddenly he looks remorseful. It’s almost as if he can read your mind and anticipates every second you take to just step inside, his eyes beckoning you to come. It’s not like he cares; in fact, he wants you next to him. God, he just wants you so bad.
Steady hands find the hem of your baggy white t-shirt that you lift up and over your head, exposing the smooth expanse of your bare stomach and the perk of your bare breasts. You shimmy out of your baby pink underwear and, suddenly, you’re standing completely vulnerable before him and yet this is all he wants and all you want. You step inside the shower, closing the distance between you and him even more until you’re right in front of him, letting the warm water pour down onto you. It’s become stifling hot in that little space and there’s only a split moment where you fear you’ve made a mistake before you feel Jungkook’s hand come up to gently hold the side of your face. His thumb caresses your cheekbone, his eyes gazing into yours, and then he’s kissing you.
It’s a soft kiss, one where he takes his time to thoroughly enjoy it, first kissing your upper lip, then your lower lip in some sort of sensual manner that leaves chills running down your spine. He leaves a trail of warm and wet kisses from your jawline to your neck, nuzzling his nose against your throat as your breath catches. His hands fall to grasp at your hips, yanking you toward him and you so easily comply, melting completely into his broad chest and immediately feeling a sense of warmth as if you’ve always belonged there, wrapped up in his strong arms.
“You’re blushing,” he remarks gently, making you realize he’s pulled apart from you to study your face. His fingers brush away the hair that falls into your eyes and he smiles. “You’re blushing now after you walked in on me naked? God, you’re so cute.”
You whine something in protest, burying your face in his neck and he laughs. His fingers tickle at your sides, causing you to squirm in his grip, and when you look at him again, his stare is tender and fond.
“Come here,” he mumbles.
You let him pull you into another kiss that has your head spinning. His tongue grazes your lower lip, teeth slightly nibbling down on the flesh in a way that jolts your heart. As your hands snake up his chest to wind with the hair at the nape of his neck, your own mouth parts open, letting his tongue twine with yours in a heated kiss. He can feel everything against his own body, from the perk of your breasts to the slope of your hips. His hands slide down to rest upon your lower back and the way he pulls you flush against him, letting you brush against his firm cock, makes your head spin again. It’s what wills you to start grinding your hips against his in a slow pattern that has his breath hitching in his throat, his fingers digging tighter into your skin.
“You’re driving me insane,” his voice is husky as he speaks, smooth as it filters through your ears.
You can’t help but smirk against his mouth. “Likewise.”
“How about we get out of here?” he asks. “The bed seems a hell of a lot more comfortable.”
You nod eagerly, mumbling a small, “Please,” against his luscious lips, too reluctant to pull away. He seems to have trouble, too, as he remains in his spot, even long after he reaches down to turn the water off, his lips still locked with yours. Granted, it gives you time to dry off before he’s hoisting you up with ease, instinctively letting your legs wrap around him. A thought abruptly pops into your head and causes you to gasp, your lips parting from his with a significant pop.
“Jungkook!” You scold. “Be careful! Did you forget about the gaping wound in your side or?”
“I’m fine,” he assures, already swiftly carrying you out of the bathroom and into your room.
“I don’t care what your magical radioactive spider bite does for you,” You retort. “I don’t want to somehow hurt you.”
He laughs in response, a sound that reverberates against his chest and your own torso. He’s already standing by the bed when he carefully lowers you down onto it. He crawls over you, instantly towering over your body as he leans down to chase your lips. In one quick movement, you hook your leg around his waist and, using your hands, shift him over until he’s on his back and you’re cradling his hips. He seems surprised at first, his stare flickering from the navel of your stomach to the soft buds of your breasts. Past the valley of your chest, his eyes fall once more upon yours and he smiles breathlessly, his hair sticking up in tufts.
“Really?”
Your eyes fall to the stitched wound on his side covered in gauze and your fingers brush against it delicately, following the natural curve of his abs. “I’m serious, bugboy. You may be this notorious, unstoppable force out there, but to me you’ll always be Jungkook.”
He pouts. “That doesn’t sound as cool as being Spider-Man.”
“Spider-Man is cool.”
“See? Even you think so. This is why I never told you ━ everyone thinks Spider-Man is cooler than Jungkook.”
A roll of your eyes has him smirking, though the smile is quick to falter when you begin to grind your hips against his, feeling his firm member poke at your thigh. His jaw drops open slightly at the sudden contact, his brows knitting together in slick concentration as his eyes fall to your glistening soft core.
“You didn’t let me finish,” You breathe steadily. “Spider-Man is cool, but Jungkook is cooler. You’ve always been strong and dauntless to me. You’ve always been a hero to me.”
“God,” he moans, “you’re making it really hard to focus on how cute you’re being when I can already feel how wet you are.”
The giggle that slips past your lips only further proves his point. His head rolls back against the pillows beneath him as you continue to slowly grind against him.
“Do you want me to stop?” You taunt.
“No, no,” he gasps. “Holy shit, no. We can save the mushy talk for afterwards, right? Please?”
You nod briskly, gulping for air as you feel the burning sensation between your thighs. Your fingers dance down the front of your stomach to the bundle of nerves that you rub at carefully. Jungkook watches intensely as you pleasure yourself before him, feels his own cock hardening at the sight of your fingers gracefully rubbing patterns into your clit, coating your digits with your leaking cum. He writhes beneath you, desperately aware of his own need for you, but god help him if he doesn’t finish watching or helping you get off. He swallows thickly, loosening his dry throat.
“Well, if you’re gonna make me sit here then,” he says, “can you at least let me help?”
“I’m listening.”
“Good,” he grins. “Then come sit on my face.”
He says it so confidently that it has you stuttering in your pace. Your eyes flicker down to his mischievously twinkling eyes and the way he bites on his lower lip. You hardly hesitate at his command, pushing yourself off of his crotch and shuffling yourself forward, tossing one knee over his head so that he’s seated nicely between your thighs. His hands remain on your hips to keep you steady as you wiggle around until you’re comfortable. He plants a kiss on the inside of your thigh, murmuring, “I’ll take good care of you, baby. Sit back and relax.”
You do as you're told, letting him pull you carefully down to his face and feeling as he leaves a trail of kisses along the inside of your thigh. When his mouth is hovering just over your core, you can feel his warm breath fanning against you and hum in delight, waiting eagerly for his every move. He nudges you closer and closer until you feel that one fell sweep of his tongue against your core, warm and slick as it grazes your folds, immediately sending a shock of white hot pleasure surging through your body. A shocked moan emits from your parted lips in a sound similar to, “Ooh,” that has Jungkook smirking against you.
Suddenly, all you can focus on is him and the way his tongue works so expertly against you, kitten licking at your core until you’re dripping wet in a lewd combination of saliva and your own succulence. You nearly lose your balance the moment he makes contact with you and, with each passing second of immense pleasure, it makes it more difficult to hold on. Your thighs shamelessly squeeze shut (though Jungkook grips lightly onto one of your thighs to shift you apart) and when you feel yourself wobble, breathless and dizzy from the feeling of hot fire burning at your core, your hands fly out to grasp at Jungkook’s carob locks, silky to the touch as they slide out from the seams of your fingers. Admittedly, having Jungkook’s face buried beneath your thighs is a ridiculously hot sight that only spurs your blatant spiral into a panting mess.
“Jungkook━ F━Fuck━ Oh my god━”
The moan that leaves you is throaty, guttural and Jungkook swears he’s never heard anything sexier. Watching you writhe helplessly above him is all that he needs. As his tongue licks firmly at your clit, he can’t help but reach down to his own hard dick. His fingers wrap delicately around his shaft and he pumps himself slowly, groaning into your womanhood at the thought of your delicious and hot walls wrapped around him. He shuts his eyes as he works in a smooth rhythm against both him and yourself, imagining what it would be like to just have you anyway he wants, imagining your own reactions similar to the ones you’re making now.
“Ah, shit━” You gasp suddenly. “Fuck, Jungkook, you feel so good━”
God, there you go again. His palm squeezes harder against his member at your breathy moans and he swears you’re driving him absolutely mad. To him, this feels so surreal. He’s dreamed of this; he’s dreamed and wanted nothing more innocent than to just fucking hold your hand and yet here you are in such a compromising position with him and he feels like the luckiest guy in the world. The best part about it all is that you make him feel this much bliss, this dizzy, when he’s simply just around you. Fuck, he’s so in love with you.
Your fingers clutch a little tighter at his roots and his eyes snap open. He stares up at your frazzled mess and, with his free hand, presses his fingers against your core in areas that his tongue has yet not reached. He coats his digits in your glistening arousal and coaxed with such ease he’s able to push them past your folds, earning another beautiful moan from you. He curls his finger inside you, stretching your core, flicks his tongue a little harder at your clit, squeezes his own hand tighter around his cock as he desperately jacks himself off to this, to you. He pumps his finger in and out of you in tandem with his own hand around his length, hearing your sweet whimpers and choked moans.
He must curl his finger just right inside of you or maybe it’s the way your sensitive clit begins to throb with each lick he takes or maybe it’s when he joins his tongue with his finger in a dangerous duo but then you jut your hips forward ever so slightly and jerk them back. He’s eating you out with such vigour, such hard passion that you can feel his chin and his nose brush against your core and each contact has you gasping. He pulls apart just enough when he feels you jerk your hips backward again and you’re so caught up in the pure ecstasy that has overcome you that you hardly realize until you hear him speaking, muttering faintly against your folds, “C’mon, baby. Ride my face. Cum for me.”
His only response is a weak sputtering as you try to gasp for air. You don’t need to be told twice at this point as you feel as if you’re chasing after your high. You unabashedly begin rocking your hips against his mouth and fingers. He tilts his head just right so that his nose burrows into your clit, his tongue and digit slipping further within your walls that clench around the thought of having something of girth like Jungkook’s length inside you. Jungkook’s own hand slacks at his pace around his member, his fingers reaching up to dig into your waist and thighs to hold you in place as you continuously rock against him. You’re so close, you can feel the familiar tension start to form in the very pit of your stomach.
“F━Fuck!” You cry. “Jung━kook━ I’m━”
Your voice breaks off into frail croaks, your hands flying out to grab onto the sturdy frame of your bed in front of you as you feel your high approach. Jungkook pulls you harder against his face, letting you grind against him as he burrows into you, completely ravaging you with his mouth until you feel your release take hold of you. It shakes you to the bone, causes you to writhe in pleasure above him as you come to a halt, emitting a loud moan of his name as your hot release leaks onto his chin, coating his mouth in your shimmering cum.
“Fuck, fuck━ Jungkook!” Your nails dig into the bed frame, your teeth sinking into your lower lip and muffling your dulcet moans.
He laps at your core, licking away every last drop of your succulence until your hips twitch away from the sensitivity you feel. When he finally pulls apart from you, he stares up at you from between your thighs with an amused smirk, his hair messily mused from your doing. You muster a faint smile in return as you pant heavily, attempting to calm your shrill heart and he beckons you over. You blissfully clamber back down his torso, once more straddling his hips as you curl up into his chest, tilting your head to press a soft kiss to his lips. You feel him smile against your own mouth and it’s something so gentle, so ardent, that it warms your heart.
“That was so fucking hot,” he mumbles between kisses. “Round two?”
Giggling, you part from him momentarily only to reconnect your lips to his jawline, nibbling on the soft skin there. “How about I let you have a turn?”
He quirks a brow in curiosity though he already knows your intentions as your hand flutters down his stomach. He can’t help the moan that slips past his lips as he feels your soft hands grasp firmly at his hardened cock. He feels as if he could practically melt in your hands or explode at any moment and you hadn’t even done anything. His hips instinctively buck into your fist but he shakes his head. He sits up suddenly, startling you in your spot though his hands come out to grasp at your face and hold you in place as he kisses you feverishly.
“How about,” he breathes, nipping at your lower lip, “you let me make love to you right here, right now.”
For a moment, you become carried away with the taste of his lips mingled with your wet arousal that fades away fast. You return the kiss with such zeal, too reluctant to part from him just yet, that when you muster the nerve to lean away, you’re panting heavily.
“Not so fast, bugboy,” You taunt. “I still want you to rest.”
You give him a little nudge backward and he obediently follows your wordless command, plopping back against the pillows of your bed as he looks up at you, his hands resting on your upper thighs.
“I don’t know if you can consider sex as resting,” he points out playfully, a wry grin plastered on his face.
He watches as you smile, the rapid heave and fall of your chest, as you wiggle around until you’re comfortable again on his lap and have lifted your hips off of him. Your hand wraps around his shaft once more and you pump him once, twice, in slow motions as you spread the leaking cum from his throbbing head along his shaft. His jaw drops open at the feeling, eyebrows knitting together, and his fingers dig a little too harshly into your skin accidentally but you don’t at all mind ━ not when you’re able to see such a beautiful reaction from him as he comes undone before you.
Seconds pass of bated breath as you lower yourself slowly, carefully, to his cock. You run the tip of his length along your folds and up to your clit, rubbing small patterns against it that has both of you whimpering lowly. You coat him in your leaking arousal and then lower yourself onto him, finally connecting the two of your bodies as one.
“Oh, fuck,” he grunts.
Jungkook seriously feels as if he’s about to explode ━ literally. You’ve only just sat on him and he’s afraid he won’t be able to hold himself together long enough before he feels his sweet release. You’re just so warm and wet, so deliciously wet, that he slides easily into your walls that hug him just right. His mind is spinning, and even more so when he feels you stop halfway and lift your hips again. You drop them to the same level and then back again, repeating this process until you drop your hips fully, flush with his.
“Oooh, Jungkook, hmm,” Your fingers dig into his abdomen at the feeling of being so damn full. You can practically feel him throbbing and your own walls clench and release around him as you adjust to his size.
“Move━” he chokes out. “Move, please━ holy shit━”
And you do. You grind against him, rolling your hips around his firm cock as the fire continues to burn between your legs. You raise your hips languidly and drop them back down again and again until you’ve adopted some fluid rhythm, being so easily coaxed by your own cum.
“Like this?” You gasp.
He nods absentmindedly, swallowing thickly. “Fuck yes, just like that, baby.” His head rolls back against the pillows, the vein in his neck straining, “You feel so━ so fucking good.”
“Tell me,” You breathe.
Jungkook finds it hard to concentrate when his eyes fall on you. He watches as your breasts move in tandem as you ride him, the glistening arousal on your folds that coat his length that he watches disappear into you each time. He greedily reaches out as he’s lost in his own thoughts, his hand cupping your plush breast in a firm hold, his thumb brushing against your perked nipple. Your back arches in response, leaning closer to his warm hand, as he focuses on the tightness that is your core.
“Warm,” he moans. “So, so fucking wet ━ oh my god, you’re dripping, baby. Shit, you feel so perfect around my cock.”
You cry out his name, quickening your pace as you chase your high. Your strides are relentless, desperately searching for a sweet release and Jungkook feels the same. He’s held it in this long ━ he isn’t so sure he can hold himself together for much longer. He can’t take it anymore. Just as he feels you slowing down from exhaustion, he sits up once more, his strong arms wrapping around your torso and pulling you tight against his chest. Your own arms slide around his neck and you lean forward to crash your lips against his as you roll your hips steadily against his now. The new angle has him hitting a spot in you that shakes you to the core, has stars forming in your eyes.
You bite down hard on his lower lip accidentally as you try to conceal the loud moan that bubbles at your lips. Jungkook only smirks in response, especially when you shamelessly let those strangled moans out. As you sink lower onto him, Jungkook thrusts his hips upward to meet yours halfway, earning a sharp gasp from you. He tightens his hold on you and continues to thrust up into you again and again, so hard and so fast that it makes you writhe with pleasure above him. You can feel him stretching you wide each time, can feel your sticky arousal begin to trickle down his cock and your thighs.
So much for making sure he doesn’t hurt himself again ━ his thrusts are pure animalistic, hasty and needy, though all either of you care about in that moment is feeling that sweet release. You collapse entirely against Jungkook’s arms, letting him take hold of you as his hips smack against your ass. When you finally feel your second high of the night approach, your reaction feels near explosive. He thrusts again and again and you choke out somewhere between the sound of skin against skin and heavy breathing, “J━Jungkook━ Fuck! I’m close━”
He growls in response, eager to push you to yours as he chases for his. Another thrust and, holy shit, there. He hits a spot in you once, twice, and over and over again that just feels so incredibly good that you can’t help but unravel in his arms. It takes you by surprise, washing over you an immense cloud of bliss as white-hot pleasure blinds you, starting from your core and spiralling out to every edge of your body until your toes are curling. You cry out his name in a beautiful harmonious sound as your cum leaks profusely from you and coats him just right.
Fuck this ━ he doesn’t care anymore that you want him to rest. He needs to feel his own release now. So he grabs you securely and then he’s twisting you around, shoving you onto your back as he pushes his hips into you. You’re writhing beneath him, your back arching until your warm and sweaty chest is pressed against his. Your fucked out expression that stares back up at him but with such tired and loving eyes only spurs him on further (that, and the way you’re clenching so nicely around him). It’s completely messy but he’s so close. Another hard slap of his hips and then he’s finally coming undone. He pulls out of you fast, his hand coming down to grab at his cock as he pumps himself, thickly coated with your juices.
He cums moments later with a deep, rough moan, releasing onto your stomach in ivory beads that paint you his. His hand slacks around his softening length and then he, so spent and slightly sore from his wound (only slightly, he swears), collapses against you. The room suddenly falls silent, safe for the heavy panting and the shrill beating of your hearts that you both try to tame. His face is buried in the crook of your neck and your arms wrap around him to lazily twine his hair with your fingers. It’s nice to just lay there like that, enveloped in each other's arms, basking in the heavenly glow of euphoria. He kisses your neck then, soft and simple, and litters kisses down your throat to your collarbones and then back up again to your lips.
When he parts from you, his eyes remain locked on your mouth until he forces himself to look away and up at you. You’re smiling at him and it’s the type of genuine, albeit exhausted, smile that always warms his insides and makes him feel at ease. Tracing the curve of your lips with his index finger, he hums thoughtfully to himself.
“I lied about before,” he says sheepishly. When you quirk a brow at him, he continues. “I lied about before when you asked me if I’m ever afraid when I go out at night. I’m always afraid. Part of why I wear that mask is so the people I’m up against don’t see me wimping out. But, god, when I’m with you, I feel invincible.”
He watches as a light blush pinches at your cheeks, your fingers reaching up to softly graze his cheek.
“I’m so in love with you,” he whispers. “I love you. I always have and I swear you make me stronger. I don’t know what it is. I think I just want to fight harder for you. I know I was a dick for leaving that night but I know we can make this work. I just need you to believe in me, too.”
Your eyes, littered with stardust, stare into his as if he is the entire world. “I’m strong, too, Jungkook. I don’t always need protection.”
“I know that,” he chuckles.
“Good. Then get back down here and kiss me again, bugboy.”
Jungkook laughs. He doesn’t hesitate to lean down to press his lips lovingly to yours. He melts against your chest and he is content if every night is like this, in each other’s arms. As he deepens the kiss, he hears you whisper against his lips, “I love you, too, bugboy,” and it is all he needs to feel as if he has the world in his very palm.
Jungkook has always been afraid. He is afraid of not living to see the next day, afraid of losing you or his family or friends but every shred of fear fades away when he’s with you. As the city continues to breathe from beyond the brick walls of your apartment and as the sun begins to rise from the very heart of the metropolis along the horizon, Jungkook is certain that he and you together are invincible.
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navegandoaciegas · 3 years
Text
1-2-3 Way
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!reader x Steve Rogers
Warnings: smut, bed sharing, there was only one bed???, loss of virginity, dom/sub undertones, dom!Steve, sub!reader, switch!Bucky, unprotected sex, praise, slight degradation, overstimulation, face fucking, fingering, slight spanking, edging, doggy style, aftercare.
Summary: There’s only one bed and you have to share it with your childhood friends Steve and Bucky.
A/N: Listen… there was only one bed is my favorite cheesy trope, I’m sorry. Thank you for the commission, @maryfloat , I hope you like this!!
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It’s so clichè, the way that the receptionist offers you a tight lipped smile and an apology. There must have been an error with the reservation, maybe the server crashed or something, she says, you’ve booked one room, and that room has one bed only. Coincidentally, everyone’s in town at the same time as you, and the only hotel in the area is fully booked.
How unfortunate.
She hands you the keys whilst Bucky hauls your suitcase and his up the stairs, and Steve follows behind him. She eyes them warily and whispers to you, asks if you’re safe and comfortable, and apologises again for the inconvenience.
When Steve, ever the gentleman, proposes they sleep on the floor, you’re almost tempted to accept and thank him. They’re big and strong, and one night on the cold, hard floor won’t kill them.
You hate sharing beds anyways. It gets too warm with more than one body rolling around, and then someone hogs all the blankets, or kicks you in the shins, or elbows you in the ribs, and you can’t catch a break.
Instead you scoff and wave him dismissively. ‘I trust you guys more than I trust myself.’
And you do, really. You’ve known them since those awkward middle school days, where Bucky was chubby and covered in painful acne, and Steve was dangerously skinny and a foot shorter than you. You’ve fallen asleep on their shoulders on long road trips, occasionally napped on their legs in their dorm rooms, fallen asleep on Steve’s hospital bed when he was a frail kid and you and Bucky took turns visiting him.
You trust them, you really do, but still, sharing a tiny bed with them seems more intimate, definitely more wrong, than anything you’ve ever done.
It sends a weird signal down your stomach that your brain can’t quite interpret. You’re not anxious, but as you sit sandwiched between them, you can’t say you’re relaxed either.
Bucky sits to your right, computer perched on his lap, open on the Netflix account he pays for and Steve and you leech off of. He makes the most money with his waitressing job, the old ladies love tipping him for his flirty remarks and bright smiles, so it’s only fair.
Steve munches on a chalky protein bar to your right, a frown on his forehead as he chews with his mouth open and judges Bucky’s recommended section.
“You’re not making me watch another sci-fi, Barnes.”
“And you’re not forcing me through another Studio Ghibli movie, Rogers.”
“C’mon, at least those are relaxing-,”, “and cute,” you quip, intercepting Steve’s snack and taking a bite out of it just to spite him. He side eyes you, pinching your side as hard as he can.
“Oh? I forgot you were the ones paying for the account.”
“This is literal blackmail, holding the damn Netflix over our heads like that.”
“Not sure that blackmail is the word you’re looking for, but go off, bud.”
“Don’t smartmouth me.”
“Or what?”
They bicker like they’ve always done, and you’ve been friends with them long enough to have learnt how to drown out their voices when they fight.
Sometimes your friendship feels like it’s always been, playful, sibling like. They roughhouse you, you make fun of them. It’s familiar, warm, comforting.
No matter how bad school gets, no matter how uncertain your future seems, no matter how many times you get your heart broken, you know that Bucky, Steve and you will always be there to pick yourselves back up.
Some other times the lines get blurred, and it’s scary. But the scarier it gets, the more rewarding it becomes to look for signs, finding them in the smallest of things, like how Steve gets all sulky when you go out on dates, or how Bucky constantly seeks your approval for whatever he does.
You space out as they pick a movie, your mind eerily quiet, your body weirdly warm.
There’s a pit in your stomach that you can’t understand fully. It’s been there a while, ever since your friendship has started to shift, and your stares have been lingering as much as their affectionate touch.
Your eyes travel from Bucky’s black t-shirt to his side profile, tracing the gentle slope of his nose and his pouty lips. Lately, you’ve been looking at him a lot more, catching yourself in the act and shaking yourself out of your thoughts.
What thoughts, you don’t know. Your mind is blank more often than not when you’re set on him. When you’re with them.
You’re doing it again, unconsciously, until Steve elbows you in the side, and you’re rudely snapped out of your reverie.
“You’re too quiet,” he mumbles, eyeing you suspiciously.
“Which is weird since you never shut the fuck up,” quips Bucky, hitting you with his shoulder, effectively bringing you back to reality.
You resist laughing because you’ll never give him the satisfaction, and just swing back at him.
“I’m just tired, ‘s all. My neck hurts a lot, guess we’re getting old, huh.”
Bucky just shrugs and presses play on the movie they’ve chosen. You smile at Steve as convincingly as you can to get him off your case.
He nods at you, not quite sold, but leaves it at that, knowing better than to prod you.
“Want me to give you a massage?” he asks, wiggling his fingers in front of your face.
“Please?” you pout, turning your back to him.
Your thought process was that you can never refuse Steve’s healing hands. You didn’t think it through so much, clearly, as he kneads the knots in your neck and you feel your lower body coming alive, a warmth pooling awkwardly in your belly.
Bucky gives you the most offended, betrayed look you’ve ever seen, frowning and pouting like a petulant child.
“S’ not fair. I want a massage too,” he whines, shimmying his shoulders in your direction, offering you the best puppy eyes he can muster.
Cute, you think. “Gross,” you say, “I’ll give you one if you stop with the face.”
He just sticks his tongue out, wiggling between your legs.
The movie plays in the background, your mind too focused on Steve’s warm hands on your bare skin and Bucky’s back muscles flexing under your touch.
The hot feeling in your chest is back when his eyes move from the screen to yours, a goofy smile on his lips, features relaxed.
You bury your hands in his silky hair, scratching his scalp. He almost moans, butting your palm like a kitten.
He’s so effortlessly sweet that it hurts.
It’s silent in a comfortable way, with the sound effect of the movie lulling you all, except your traitorous brain, in a serene state.
It’s a kids movie, and you’re just giving yourselves a massage like you’ve done hundreds of times before, but something feels different about it, in the way that Steve’s warm breath tickles your neck, or the way that Bucky turns around every few minutes just to smile at you.
At some point your hands stop moving, and your back is flush to Steve’s front as he holds you in his arms, Bucky’s head on your lap as he hugs your thighs to his body, fingers absentmindedly caressing your skin, hiking up your legs, higher and higher-, goosebumps erupting all over you. He stops just before the hem of your shorts, making his way down to your knee, just to do it all over again.
You can no longer deny the fluttering in your core, nor the slick gathering in your panties at the thought of what would happen if he just crept higher.
By the time that the end credits roll around, you're cocooned in their warmth, Bucky asleep on your stomach, your own eyes droopy. You’re drowsy, pliant in Steve’s hold as he adjusts you both comfortably on the pillows.
The last thing you feel, as darkness envelops the room, is his lips on your forehead as he whispers to you good night.
-
You hate sharing beds, but when you wake up in the middle of the night between them, you think you may not hate it as much as you thought.
Bucky is a messy sleeper, arm swung over your hips, legs sprawled over half the mattress, face buried in the pillow next to yours, back gently rising with every breath he takes.
Steve is more put together. He sleeps on his side, lips parted, one arm under the pillow, the other close to your side, his fingers intertwined with yours.
You don’t know how long you spend staring at the ceiling, heart hammering in your chest, wondering if this shift in your friendship will bring you closer or break you apart in the long run. You don’t want to entertain the chances of them breaking your heart, or you breaking theirs.
Even the possibility of having to choose between one of the two seems absurd to you.
The bed creaks under Bucky’s weight as he turns to you, tightening his hold on your hips. You’re paralized as he nuzzles his nose in the crook of your neck, a breathy whine escaping his lips. All your blood travels to your face when you feel his hard on rub against your legs, his hips uncounsciously rutting on you.
“So soft,” he mumbles, eyes fluttering open.
You’re staring at each other, almost in a daze, and maybe it’s because it’s pitch black outside and you’re in your own little dimension, or maybe it’s the adoration in his bleary eyes, but you don’t turn away when he closes the distance between you.
The kiss you share is soft, lazy, tentative.
You prod his mouth open with yours, tongues swirling together with no rush and no shame. You’d imagined kissing your best friend would feel more awkward than this, and instead his warmth, his taste, his hungry kisses, everything about it seems natural to you, like it’s what you’re supposed to have been doing all this time, a chance you were too scared to take.
You’re so lost in the moment that you barely register the lips on your neck and another set of hands making its way under your t-shirt, settling on your stomach, fingers barely grazing the underside of your boobs.
As soon as his mouth detaches from your own, Steve is pouncing on you, his kiss more rough and demanding than Bucky’s, tongue less hesitant as it explores you, wiping any remnant of sleep out of your mind.
You’re breathless as he invades all your senses, barely wrapping your head around the fact that your shy friend is eating you whole and the flirty, outgoing one is just looking with hunger and rubbing himself on your leg.
Steve breaks away from you, a string of drool connecting you, his eyes dark with desire. He pecks your lips again, smirking at you as he lowers his face, leaving a trail of kisses on your jaw, to the column of your neck, down your collarbones, settling between your tits.
“So pretty,” he murmurs, grasping the hem of your t-shirt, “Can I touch you? I’m gonna make you feel so good.”
You nod fervently, growing needy with each passing second, “Please Steve, just touch me.”
Bucky gets bolder, kissing you with more conviction this time. Your clothes are shedded, his bare skin heated against yours, your hands in his hair.
Steve takes his sweet time making his way downwards, leaving a trail of bruises on your chest, stomach, hips, kneading your ass. He settles between your legs, looking up at you as he closes his mouth on your clothed pussy, sucking through your panties and leaving a wet mark on them.
You’re embarrassingly horny, arousal dripping out of you, nipples stiff as Bucky plays with them. You want him to rip your panties to shreds and take you right there and then, but Steve has other plans, enjoying the way you’re so pliant underneath him.
He grabs you by the hips, turning you around with your face down and your ass up in the air. The string of your underwear is almost swallowed between your puffy folds, stained with your slick.
Steve takes a deep breath before tugging the string up, teasing your swollen clit with the material, raptured by the way you’re so open and ready for them, glistening with desire.
Bucky sits back on the headboard, eyes half lidded, legs spread before your face. You trace the outline of his hard cock through his boxers, mouth watering at the idea of him inside you, filling you up.
Steve doesn’t give you the time to touch him before he’s tugging you upwards by the hair, flush to his chest. His breath tickles your neck as he teases you through your panties.
“Are you gonna be good for me? For us?”
You don’t have to think about it, strings of ‘yes’, ‘please, ‘touch me’, leaving your lips as if having a mind of their own. It would be embarrassing to be this wanton with anyone else, but with them, everything is like it’s meant to be.
“Then be a good girl, okay? Show Bucky how good you can be with that pretty mouth of yours,” he grunts in your ear, pressing his hard on against your ass cheeks, “You’ve done this before, haven’t you?”
You nod, grind yourself on his cock, so pent up and desperate for release that you rub your legs together just to feel the string of your panties digging in your folds, hoping it would help soothe the ache in your cunt.
“Of course you have, you little slut,” he grunts, pushing your head down on the mattress as Bucky tugs his underwear down.
Yours is ripped by Steve, thrown somewhere in the room, exposing your quivering hole to the cold air. Arching your back, you silently beg for something, anything, which comes in the form of a sting and a loud smack reverberating in the stuffy room.
Steve smacks your pussy again, and again, and again, until the sharp pain in your clit becomes so pleasant that you could come just from that. Bucky wastes no time yanking your head towards his crotch, slapping his heavy cock on your cheek, until your face burns with humiliation and need.
Your hands tremble as you reach for him, hesitating before licking a stripe from the base to the tip, savoring his musky pre cum. You swirl your tongue around the head, teasing his sensitive slit with kitten licks, hands fondling with his balls.
Steve’s thick finger prodding at your entrance makes you gasp, giving Bucky the perfect opportunity to shove your face down his cock until you’re coughing, lungs burning, clawing at his things as he holds you down.
“Calm down, Bucky. Stop bein’ so desperate,” Steve’s voice is muffled in your ears as you struggle for air, feeling light headed.
He plunges a finger inside your pussy, then another, eased by the embarrassing amount of wetness dripping out of you.
Bucky whines something in return, yanking you up. Tears blur your vision as you heave, barely getting enough air in your lungs before he pushes you down again, using your head as a flashlight.
He keeps you still, nose buried in the dark hair of his pelvis, as he stands on his haunches. Grabbing your face with both hands, he starts relentlessly pummelling inside you, fucking your mouth with abandon.
With a broken moan he thrusts all the way down, his balls slapping your chin, fingers clamping around your nose when you start gagging.
“Oh, she likes that. She’s squeezing my fingers,” Steve says, scissoring his fingers between your gummy walls, “Do it again.”
Bucky pinches your nose one more time, depriving you of all air. Dark spots start appearing at the sides of your vision, mind hazy. He lets up before you faint, barely giving you time before he’s stuffing your mouth with his cock once more.
Steve lays down between your legs, face up. From his perspective he can see your glistening pussy, your tits bouncing with the force of Bucky’s thrusts, and his cock disappear between your abused lips. You’re being so good to them that he feels like rewarding you.
His hands guide you to sit down on his face, your moans muffled as he latches onto your swollen clit. He sucks on it until you’re on the edge of your orgasm, walls quivering with the need to release.
He stops just before you can reach your peak, and spanks your clit again.
“You’re not coming on my mouth now.”
Your throat vibrates around Bucky’s cock with moans of pleasure, spurring him on to hold you down longer, chasing his own orgasm with a string of curses.
“She’s gonna faint, idiot,” Steve scolds him, tearing you away from Bucky’s cock, drool dripping down your sore jaw.
“She can handle it,” rasps Bucky, rolling his eyes.
“Stop talking about me like I’m not here,” you frown, slapping Bucky’s hands away when he reaches for you.
“Brats, both of you,” Steve sighs condescendingly, “Be more gentle. And you,” he warns, pinching your inner thigh, “don’t talk unless it’s to beg for more, ‘kay?”
There’s a pause, an awkward moment when you don’t know where to look, what to do with your hands, waiting for Steve to take control again, like he always does.
“So-” Bucky starts, looking up at Steve for guidance, “What now?”
“You’re both- y’know, it’s your first time actually doing it, right?” he asks after pondering for a second, eyes darting between the two of you.
“Yes,” you both respond, and he hums.
“Then you two should go first, be each other’s first times. It makes more sense. I got her ready, so it shouldn’t hurt.”
The idea of Bucky’s cock inside you makes you a bit anxious, considering how much you struggled taking him in your mouth, jaw still sore from his abuse, but it also fills you with warmth.
You trust them blindly, and you want this, you want him to be the first one inside you for whatever reason.
There’s no need for words between you, a tiny nod and a reassuring smile all you need to settle on the pillows, spreading your legs for Bucky to settle in between.
He’s always so sure of himself, but in the moment he looks like a lost puppy. He pumps himself a few times, and braces his weight on one arm as he lines his cock with your entrance.
He gives you one more kiss, tasting himself on your lips, before pushing past your entrance. The tip is barely in by the time that you screech, the pain sharper than you imagined, and Bucky halts immediately despite looking like he’s about to bust on the spot.
Your pussy feels like it’s burning, and no amount of fingers inside you could have prepared you for the stretch of your walls.
“It’s okay,” Steve whispers in your ear, a hand rubbing your shoulder to comfort you, “You’re doing so good, being such a good girl, you’re so perfect. It will go away before you realize, promise.”
“Okay, okay, I can do this,” you pant, digging your nails in Bucky’s back.
“Let’s switch, it will hurt less if you’re on top,” Steve suggests, and you and Bucky comply.
He lays down on the pillows as you straddle his hips, propping yourself up on his toned abs. Steve kneels at your side, holding you up as you hover over him.
Your heart’s beating out of your chest as you grasp Bucky’s cock, taking a deep breath to steel yourself before inching down on him, whimpering with every centimeter that gets swallowed by your gummy walls.
The stretch feels like it’s splitting you open, and if it weren’t for Steve’s strong arms, you’d collapse and cry on Bucky’s chest.
Steve whispers praises and reassuring words in your ear and kisses your tears away, swirling his fingers around your clit to help you out, and Bucky caresses the sides of your waist, mumbling broken apologies to you, kissing your neck.
Once you finally bottom out, you still and slump on Bucky’s shoulder, burying your nose in his hair, inhaling the familiar, comforting scent.
The pain is throbbing, burning, but it becomes more subtle and bearable the longer Bucky stays inside you.
“Okay, it’s getting better” you wheeze in an attempt to encourage yourself, “But I can’t feel my legs now.”
They break in a fit of laughter, easing the tension in the room.
“Let’s switch again,” Bucky proposes, slightly out of breath with the way that your pussy is squeezing him in a vice, “I can move.”
You nod, clinging to his neck as he lifts you up, careful not to let his cock slip out of you.
“I want to feel you close,” Steve says, slightly out of breath, “Lay her on me.”
They help you lay on his chest, Bucky’s cock still buried inside you, the pain fading away in a dull sting.
You’re sandwiched between their bodies, enveloped by their warmth and affection, coated in your slick and their sweat, and despite the discomfort, you’ve never felt as full of love as now.
Bucky seeks permission with his eyes, then reassurance from Steve, and starts rocking his hips tentatively, biting hard on his lips to keep himself from cumming embarrassingly fast.
His cock drags against your walls, a ring of white cream slowly accumulating around the base.
It’s not painful anymore, slightly uncomfortable at times when he’s accidentally too rough, but the burn is now a simmering heat that grows in your core with every thrust.
Steve sings praises in your ear, “Look how good you’re doin’, taking Bucky’s cock so well, you’re such a good girl,” whilst Bucky rutts needily on you.
He’s sloppy in his movements, and his hips don’t have a rhythm to them. He takes you high, close to a release, just to fuck it up again when he stutters, involountarily edging you over and over again.
“I’m close, I’m so close, I’m gonna cum inside you,” he moans.
In a blur you’re on your stomach. Bucky positions you on your knees and pummels inside you again, thrusting more forcefully as he loses himself in the pleasure.
You whimper between Steve’s tender kisses before Bucky tears you away from him, yanking you flush against his chest.
“I love you, I love you, love you so much, love you,” he keeps mumbling, tightly clutching his arms around your stomach and tits, slamming you hard on him.
At that angle Bucky’s cock pushes against a sensitive spot inside you that makes the coils in your stomach tighter, your clit throbbing and your walls clamping down on him.
Steve, never one to be outdone, sits back on his haunches and manhandles your head down again until you’re faced with his hard, leaking cock.
He’s trimmed more neatly than Bucky, but he’s just as big and intimidating.
He slaps his cock on your lips, smearing his precum on you. You’re a moaning mess, automatically taking him in your mouth, savoring his musk on your tongue.
Your jaw is still sore but you do your best to accommodate Steve, eager to please. You relax your muscles and let Bucky’s thrusts do the work for you, already lightheaded with the lack of air.
They keep stuffing you with their cocks, bouncing you between each other, the lewd sounds of your squelching pussy and the bed creaking filling the room.
Bucky’s fingers teasing your clit, your lungs burning, your vision going spotty, it’s all too much for you.
Just as you think you’re about to reach your peak, you feel Bucky pause and stutter, a choked moan escaping his throat as he comes, stuffing you full of his warm cum. Steve comes at the same time, and you almost choke on his release as he spills his load down your throat.
It feels good, you’re fuller than you’ve ever been, but it’s still not enough to push you over the edge.
You both collapse on Steve, exhausted, cum pouring out of your hole and onto the sheets. You expect him to take you immediately after, instead he snakes a hand between your bodies, finding your sensitive clit, overstimulated with all the touching.
“You did so well, baby, you were so good for Bucky. Now cum on my fingers, cum for us,” he moans, twirling your bud between his fingers.
Pent up as you are, it doesn’t take long for you to finally come, almost blacking out with the intensity of your orgasm, your limbs shaking and quivering between theirs.
When you come down from your high, you’re tired out, your whole body is sore, your hips and legs hurt, and the cum seeping out of your entrance reminds you of the burning pain there, now back with a vengeance.
When morning comes, you’ll have to remind Steve to buy you Plan B.
The exhaustion catches up to you as soon as your head hits the pillow, a loud ring in your ears as you barely register your surroundings, Bucky already asleep by your side in true Bucky fashion while Steve takes care of you both, cleaning you up and tucking you in bed.
He whispers ‘I love you’ and kisses the tip of your nose.
Maybe one day you’ll say it back.
For now, you let yourself rest in their embrace, always the three of you like it’s meant to be.
Damn, 4k words of porn. This felt like giving birth or something sksjshj
Please, share and leave a comment if you can 🥰
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keewriting · 3 years
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Cove x MC - One Shot #4 (NSFW 18+ request)
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[Read on google docs to insert your MC's name]
CONTENT WARNING: NSFW 18+, I wrote this with any kind of MC in mind, so hopefully it fits for you!
The sun was setting on another summer evening. You waded out of the ocean, intentionally a few steps behind Cove to admire the toned muscles on his tan back. He strode out of the water with ease and collapsed onto your colorful knit quilt. Sand clung to your feet as you emerged from the ocean to join him. Cove was on his back, elbows propping up his upper half. His head pointed towards the indigo sky. You paused in front of the blanket, considering how to lower yourself onto it without bringing the sand with you.
Aware of your presence, Cove raised his head and made eye contact with you. His soaked hair swept away from his face and his cheeks were still slightly pink from the sun exposure. His innocent gaze traveled down your body. You stood frozen, struck by the adoration in his ocean eyes. You noticed the color of his cheeks deepen and spread to his ears. His eyes darted away and he stuck out his bottom lip in a small pout.
Cove: How did I not notice that earlier?
You looked down at your own body quizzically, scanning for an abnormality. Oh, there it was. The anklet. You usually took it off before hitting the beach, but it must have slipped your mind earlier. You kicked your decorated foot towards Cove.
Y/N: Notice what? Notice this?
Cove closed his eyes and hummed, trying to hide his amusement. His reaction stirred excitement within you. Your voice was saccharine and dripping with ironic innocence.
Y/N: I swear I didn’t mean to wear it. I forgot to take it off earlier.
Cove: For some reason I don’t believe you.
You lowered your foot and crossed your arms over your chest. Cove peeked his eyes open, relief washing over his face.
Y/N: And I don’t believe that you’re not thrilled to see it on my ankle.
You had him there, and Cove knew it. He motioned for you to join him on the blanket. Your earlier struggle reemerged. Without thinking, you dropped your knees first, then flopped the rest of your body onto the quilt. You landed with an “oof” and Cove cackled at your lack of grace.
Cove: Y/N…
You propped your head onto your hands and kicked your feet upwards towards your rear. The anklet danced enticingly in Cove’s eyeline. This display more than made up for your clumsy blanket landing.
Y/N: Yes, Cove?
Cove decided he had nothing to say. He took your face in his hands and kissed you sensually. You returned the kiss, melting under the shock of his sudden forwardness.
You parted your lips hungrily. You felt the warmth of Cove’s tongue threaten to clash with yours. You thrust your tongue forward daringly. A low moan escaped Cove’s throat. He pushed the kiss deeper and flipped you onto your back.
The kiss broke apart. Cove stared into your eyes, causing your head to spin.
Cove: Can we go?
You nodded, quite aware of his intentions. Cove helped you up and grabbed a corner of the blanket in one hand while holding yours in the other. You walked in silence toward the Holden residence. As you grew closer, Cove’s pace slowed. The light was on inside the house. Mr. Holden was home, and awake. Cove’s tone was dejected and frustrated.
Cove: There is no way we can casually waltz into my room with dad home. No way.
You felt determined to make this happen. You looked over to your house, a beacon of hope. You knew your moms and Liz were home, but the light downstairs was off. You tugged Cove’s arm in the direction of your house.
Y/N: Let’s climb into my room through the window, Cove-style.
Cove: Uhhh, your family is home. Are you sure about this?
Y/N: We’ll be quiet. And the risk is a little exciting, isn’t it?
Cove hesitated, but followed your lead. The risk of detection was higher at your house, so you never got down with Cove in your room. The thought of getting frisky with Cove somewhere new made your blood pump faster. You walked in silent anticipation until you arrived at the scaffolding up to your window.
Y/N: You can drop the blanket there. Give me a boost?
Cove obliged without a word, obviously lost in his own head again. He supported your waist as you climbed. You grimaced and pried open the window slowly, trying to reduce the squeak of the hinges. You stealthily slipped inside and landed on your feet. When you turned around, Cove perched familiarly in the window with a nervous expression.
Y/N: Get in here and close the window.
Cove: Are you going to turn the light on?
You shook your head.
Y/N: Too risky, we’re relying on the romantic moonlight tonight.
Cove did his best to enter gracefully, his height and the darkness working against him. You held your breath until the boy was inside. He closed the window behind him and stood awkwardly in front of you.
Cove blushed, his features barely visible in the soft moonlight. You stepped toward him and tickled your finger under his chin, leading him to your bed. He followed, eyes glued to your inviting lips. You fell backwards onto your bed with a soft thwump. Cove leaned into you, inches away from a kiss, then paused.
Cove: Y/N, we aren't exactly prepared to do anything here, are we?
The vagueness of his wording wasn’t surprising. This wouldn’t be your first time going all the way with Cove, but he was still learning how to speak candidly about it. You squirmed away from Cove and reached into your bedside table drawer. Using one hand, you blindly felt around until you felt the familiar packaging. You produced the condom and presented it to Cove with a shining grin. His mouth fell open and his cheeks grew red.
Cove: Why do you have that? We never… do anything here…
His voice drifted off quietly.
Y/N: Call it wishful thinking.
Cove avoided your gaze, unsatisfied with your answer. You hooked your arms around his neck, the condom still poking between your index and middle finger. In this new position, Cove had to face you head on.
Y/N: I have a gorgeous boyfriend who is almost always half naked. It’s not absurd to be prepared.
Cove chuckled sheepishly at that response. He took the condom from your fingers and peeled one corner. He placed the half opened package on the edge of your bedside table for easy access when the time was right. Cove faced you again, ready to devote his undivided attention to you.
Cove: I have one more concern.
You raised one eyebrow, indicating you wanted Cove to continue. He hesitated, searching his mind for the right words to use. He caressed your cheek while he thought. Finally, he settled on something.
Cove: You’re uh— loud.
You felt your face burning up with embarrassment, but you couldn’t argue. You clenched your jaw, trying to think of a retort. Instead, a mischievous grin spread across your face. You grabbed the hand still caressing your cheek and guided his fingers to your lips.
Y/N: Why don’t you put these to use.
Your voice came out low and husky. That was enough to set off Cove. He lunged at your lips with his. The kiss felt intoxicating. You entangled your fingers in Cove’s damp seafoam locks. He ran his warm hands up and down your torso and chest. His right hand lingered for a moment on your hip, then traced down your leg. Lips still connected, he grabbed your adorned ankle and lifted it towards his shoulder.
Cove pulled back from the kiss. You almost didn’t recognize the passionate hunger in his eyes, but a familiarly pensive look crossed his flushed face. Calculating his next move was causing a bit of inner turmoil. You stared up at him, your heart pounding in your chest. The feeling traveled downward within you.
Cove loosened his grip on your ankle and turned his face to it. He gently pecked around the ankle with small kisses and bites. You shuddered at the sensation. You felt a heightened sense of vulnerability with your legs spread and exposed to Cove. He pressed his crotch forward into yours as he traced his tongue from your ankle up your leg. You felt his hardness twitch against your crotch. His tongue trailed and broke off before it reached your knee.
Cove lowered your leg and released it as he leaned in to kiss you again. His hands toyed with the hem of your swimsuit bottoms and you allowed him to remove them. Now completely naked, you wanted Cove on the same page. You curved your fingers into the hem of his swim trunks and helped lower them. He stood up to kick them off entirely. You scrambled to sit up straight, you wanted to use this opportunity to shift the position. Cove noticed your sudden movement and became concerned.
Cove: Is everything okay, Y/N?
You nodded coquettishly and beckoned for Cove with your finger. His erection grew as he scanned you with lust burgeoning within.
Y/N: Get back here, you.
Cove rested his knee on the bed and prepared to loom above you, but you shifted your weight and pinned him to the bed. His head landed on your pillow and his eyes widened. You situated yourself on top, straddling your legs on either side of him. The reality of the situation weighed down on his mind. There was nothing between your bodies.
Cove’s face was burning red, but he didn’t break eye contact. His unusual boldness only turned you on more. You pressed your body closer to his and teased your lips above his. His hands gripped your hips and threatened to move lower. You moved closer to his ear and spoke in a low whisper before running your tongue down his lobe.
Y/N: Go lower, I dare you.
Cove whimpered and allowed his hands to move onto your ass. He squeezed hard and spread your cheeks. Your body tingled and you managed to stifle a moan by biting your lip. He bucked his hips forward, grinding your crotches together. You ran your hands over his defined pecs and pinched his nipples.
You felt about ready to burst and could tell Cove was equally tantalized. He instinctively reached for the condom and removed it from the packaging. You sat back to allow him room to slip it on. Cove’s warm hands caressed your thighs and coaxed you forward.
You held his gaze as you lowered yourself onto his erect penis. His bright eyes widened, then closed as he felt you wrap around him. He parted his lips, allowing his next words to barely escape.
Cove: Y/N, fuck…
Curse words and Cove rarely mixed, but when they did you felt it in your bones. You stabilized yourself by resting your palms on Cove’s toned abdomen. Using this position for leverage, you lifted yourself, then came back down. Cove’s eyes shut tight and his lip quivered. You gradually increased the pace, keeping an eye on Cove’s reaction.
Cove's eyes lidded heavily, his mouth agape with small gasps. You felt the warmth of his hands crawling up your torso and across your chest. One hand remained groping your chest while the other moved upward to caress your face. He took one of your nipples between his fingers and pinched. You couldn’t contain the pleasured moan that escaped from your mouth.
Cove furrowed his brows and huffed. He continued working your nipple, but his other hand drew closer to your mouth. His thumb traced the outline of your lips. He eyed you carefully, anticipating your next move. You parted your lips and used your tongue to tease Cove’s thumb into your mouth. Testing the waters, he pinched your nipple harder. You bit down gently on the tip of his thumb and moaned. The sound was sufficiently stifled by Cove’s thumb.
Suddenly, he pulled back and held your hips firmly in place.
Y/N: Cove?
Cove controlled his breathing, but his flushed face betrayed his true feelings. Flustered and teetering on the edge, he whispered.
Cove: Could you lie on your back?
You eased off of him and scooted backwards. Cove sat up and pushed you flat against the bed. He aligned himself in front of you and hiked your legs upward to hang your legs on each of his shoulders. One hand twirled your anklet while the other anchored onto your hip bone.
Cove inserted himself into you again, exhaling a low rumbling groan. He began thrusting, gently but firmly. Your body felt hot. Your skin was throbbing with passion and damp with sweat. You wanted more.
Y/N: Cove— hhhf. Haa— harder.
Your thirst imbued Cove with confidence. He leaned forward to kiss you, still draped by your legs. You spread your arms above your head and gripped the mattress, bracing yourself. He dug his hands into your hair and pulled.
His thrusts became more powerful and deliberate. You moaned deeply into his mouth. The new position created a tightness around Cove’s dick that drove him mad. He began to fondle you externally to match your climax to his.
You peered through your hazy vision into Cove’s focused expression. Your eyes met in a moment of passion and bliss, sending each other over the edge.
Cove: Y/N— I’m, fuck… Are you—
You felt the familiar throbbing of Cove finishing within you, which fueled your own climax. Cove’s mouth was on yours before you could cry out, muffling your inevitable moan. Your body shuddered with waves of electric pleasure.
Cove separated himself from you and pulled out. He flopped onto the bed next to you, hand resting on his pounding chest. You nuzzled into him, embracing the heat and dampness of his skin.
Y/N: So that was amazing.
Coming down from the high of orgasm, Cove fell into thought. You propped yourself on one elbow to analyze his expression. His eyes were half-lidded and watery. The trademark blush was exactly where it belonged. The gentle smile on his lips parted to speak.
Cove: I love you, Y/N. I think about that a lot. You know that. But moments like this make me feel so much closer to you.
He paused to gauge your reaction. You nodded to let him continue.
Cove: You’re incredibly special, and I’m so lucky that you were⁠— er, are patient with me. And that’s all I have to say on the matter...
Cove became aware of his words and grew quieter. You chuckled at his sudden self-consciousness.
Y/N: My big softie. I love you, Cove.
Cove’s eyes crinkled adorably with his grin. He wrapped you in a big hug and brought your head to his chest. You listened to his rhythmic heartbeat while he stroked your hair. The anklet-driven evening came to a satisfying end.
761 notes · View notes
thirstyforlulu · 3 years
Note
Yandere Hellsing x Reader HCs? Including Millennium
Integra:
She’s a very possessive yandere
With her money and power, she has the means to get her hands on you
She’s good at playing cool, you won’t catch on for a while
Sure you notice that she never sends you on missions and that she’s always having you work near her office, but that’s just her being a good friend
When she decides to approach you romantically, she’s very forward
Around you she’s a touch starved animal, unlike her usual put together appearance
If you deny her feelings or try to run, get ready because she’s not giving up that easily
She’ll pull whatever strings she has to in order to find you
She’ll spend thousands bribing people or tracking you
Once she knows where you are, she’ll send Alucard to collect you
When she has you she’s very loving
She’ll want to constantly be touching you in some way
Usually that means sitting beside her while she works at her desk
As long as you’re good, she’ll let you wander the entirety of the manor
Since you tried to run she’s added all sorts of security measures so you can’t get out
Act up though and she will chain you to the wall in her office
“Y/N, your behavior has been deplorable lately and needs correcting.
Don’t give me those sad eyes, this is all your fault.”
Walter:
He’s a sneaky yandere
Very observant, he’ll learn your patterns and preferences
At the start he’ll leave you gifts like your favorite food or pretty flowers
He uses it as an excuse to get closer to you
He’s always offering to do favors for you, secretly lowering your defenses around him
He’s not the type to take anything from you but he will take the time to appreciate them
If you let him clean your room he’ll likely pause to sniff some clothes
You notice how much he knows about you but you just think he’s very observant
You don’t realize it’s due to his obsession
He’s the type to take more precautions
If you deny his advances he’ll lock you up somewhere, probably his room
He’ll get chains and a cage if necessary
If you really act up, he’ll lock you in the basement
The way you cling to him in fear after spending all night in the dark is addictive
His wires are always nearby
If you try to run you’ll only get a few steps out the door before the wires wrap you up and pull you back
He does his best not to hurt you, but if you struggle too much, a few cuts are inevitable
Seras:
She’s a very clingy yandere
She’ll want you on every mission she goes on
When you have free time she’ll take you out into the area nearby for some quality time
If you ever push her away, she gets angry
She’ll pout like a child then force her way into whatever it is you’re doing
At the time, she’ll act like it’s just a coincidence and you might even believe her
You’re not getting rid of her so easily
She’s also a very sweet yandere
If she feels she’s hurt your feelings she’ll go out of her way to get you presents or treat you nicely
Until you say you forgive her, she won’t stop pampering you
No one else is allowed near you, not even Integra
She’ll make excuses and do whatever it takes to keep you to herself
She would never kidnap you or lock you up because she hates to see you sad, but her “loving” behavior will be a trap in itself
Don’t forget that despite how cute she is, she’s still a powerful monster that can and will do what it takes to keep you
If that means making you one of her familiars then so be it
Alucard:
He’s a terrifying yandere
He can control you and the people around you, holding you captive
You’re not a stupid person, you know how easily he could end your life, so you tend to let it all happen
On the plus side, he’s very passionate and often brings you gifts
He’s such a smooth talker you’ll end up forgetting the terrifying threats he’s made in the past
Anyone who flirts with you will mysteriously disappear
Anyone who hurts you will turn up days later torn to shreds in a ditch
He would never do anything to hurt you, but that doesn’t stop him from making threats
“I could tear you apart just like that man from last week. I would love to hear your moans of anguish, but I’d prefer moans of pleasure.”
When you act out he manhandles you
He’ll press you against a wall and bite your neck to remind you of your place
He enjoys when you become complicit, but he likes when you’re occasionally act out
It gives him an excuse to punish you, which he always loves
After that, you’ll think twice before disobeying him
Millenium:
Jan:
Bro this man is already wild
When he sets his sights on you it’s go time
He won’t let anyone else near you or get to know you, not even his brother
He’ll threaten people, meeting them after work for overstepping their boundaries
He’s very touchy, like he’s trying to leave his scent all over you
Out in public, he’ll hang on you, showing others that you’re already taken
He’ll growl at people that look at you too long when passing by
He flicks a lot of people off, all the time but more so when he’s around you
He’s paranoid and doesn’t like anyone else around you, even friends
Clearly he’s a fan of body modification so if he can convince you he’ll want to get some kind of matching piercing/tattoo
If you get it, he’ll pay special attention to it any time you cuddle, running his fingers over it countless times
He can be very intense so he might yell at you, but when he sees the hurt look in your eyes he backs off
In his own weird way, he loves you and doesn’t want to see you hurting
But if he has to hurt you to keep you then so be it
Luke:
He’s not as subtle as he thinks he is
He tries to play it cool, but if someone tries to touch you he will blatantly smack their hand away
Always has an excuse to be around you and if he doesn’t, he’ll find one
He’s not as touchy as Jan, but he does like to hold your hand
You’ll feel his pinky brush against you before his hand completely envelops yours
His grip tightens when he sees you looking at others
Your attention is something he so desperately craves
He gives you every moment of his time and he wants you to do the same
If you’re ever in danger he’s there before anyone else even knows
It helps that he was already watching you
Be ready to compensate him
At first he’s just worried about you, but then once he knows you’re alright, he’ll start making demands
“You owe me for coming to your rescue dear. Or would you like me to toss you back? Maybe then you’ll beg me in such a cute way.”
Rip:
She does not care what other people think
She’ll ruin relationships to get closer to you
She’ll endanger her own job if it keeps you two apart
Doing favors is how she gets closer to you
Anytime you need something she’s there and ready to go
She’d leave in the middle of a mission if she hears you need help
Anyone causing you problems will be slaughtered and presented to you as a gift
“See y/n, I took off their heads just for you.”
She can get very aggressive especially if she thinks you’re denying her advances
She won’t hurt you, beyond a little pinch or so, but she’ll make threats
She’s very sadistic and would be willing to lock you up
Having you as a pet is actually an attractive idea to her
She’ll take good care of you wherever you’re locked up, but she won’t allow many freedoms
“Look at my pretty pet. How lucky am I.”
The Captain:
He’s like a pet, always following you around
He’ll growl at people he doesn’t like around you
His arms are always around you, keeping you close
No one else is allowed to tend to you after missions
When he’s patching you up, he’ll run his hands along your arms and legs, lovingly caressing your limbs
He’ll use that as an excuse to stay around you
Popping in to “check on you” at all hours
You won’t even know he’s come in until he’s sitting on the edge of your bed
He’s the type the would sit there for a moment watching you breathe
If he can, he’ll try to get you to be his assistant
If he can convince the higher ups that he needs one, he’ll do whatever he can
Then he’ll be around you even when he works and will be able to protect you
No one on the battlefield will be able to even get close to you
He’ll ignore his own tasks to protect you
He’s extremely loyal and obsessive
The Doctor
Oh man it is terrifying when he has his eye on someone
He views it like just another experiment, wanting to test and push you
He’ll have you coming to him for “examinations” all the time
He’d likely put a bug on you
Suddenly he knows things you don’t remember telling him, but you can’t prove anything
People you like start disappearing, people you had no idea he knew about
If he suspects you’re starting to catch on and trying to get away, he’ll start drugging you
Then you’ll have to come to him if you’re going to get better
While he’s treating you, he’ll trick you mentally manipulating you to grow closer to him
You’re going to think so highly of him, forgetting all the red flags you’d seen before
He is absolutely a gas lighter but he’s damn good at it
Even if you have experience with this stuff you won’t pick up on it
It’s a game of cat and mouse with him
The Major
He is not subtle and does not care
Your needs or emotions don’t matter to him
If you don’t respond well to his advances he will make terrible threats
If that doesn’t work he’ll take it a step further, allowing the ghouls to get close to taking a bite out of you
Torture is the next step
He doesn’t care about your mood, he has to have you
“Y/N, why do you fight so hard when you know I’m just going to hurt you again?”
He’ll want to do most of it by hand, but if he needs to he will get the others involved
“Would you like me to make a spectacle out of you? I think the others would enjoy that.”
Behave and he won’t hurt you
If he gets mad enough he’ll remove your arms and legs
You’ll become his good little doll, always on display for him
Like a bird in a cage, you’re his favorite display item
518 notes · View notes
weaselbrownie · 3 years
Note
U open for a req? Can you do Notice by Little Mix for a Draco smut? Really love your writing aaaaaaa 🙈🙈🙈
notice | d.m
draco malfoy x fem!reader
summary : it’s been a while since you’ve been intimate with draco and you are determine to change that
warning : NSFW! smut, swearing, degradation, praising, overstimulation, breeding kink (?) (lemme know if i missed any)
word count : 3.3k
a/n : feels like i’ve been dead but hopefully i’ll be consistent again :) also thank you for requesting and hopefully i didn’t mess this up 
MASTERLIST
You twist and turn in front of a big mirror that sits on the floor, smiling as your fingertips graze over your figure. Looking back through the mirror to see just the ends of your bed in the dimly lit room. You began to fix your hair into a low ponytail so it wouldn't get in the way of your robe. You looked over the mirror one final time to make sure everything is in place before marching to your boyfriend's dorm. Your reflection was a true beauty, standing so still in the cold atmosphere as the delicate white lace decorates your body, covering only the necessary bits.
Oh, he's gonna love this, or maybe not?
Lately, your relationship with Draco has taken a toll, nothing terrible but it's definitely something, an inconvenience if you will. Since the exams are coming up he has not been able to put down his book, perfecting his skills to come out on top of everyone else. Not that there's anything wrong with being ambitious– he is a Slytherin after all. It's just– he's been benching you to the sidelines, though he still gives you attention he's not giving you the attention that you need. Specific attention that only he can give to you.
The throbbing ache in between your legs has been kicking you in the guts for days and you have been so patient but tonight is the night you change things.
You quietly hum as you pick up your house robe to put on over your lingerie, walking delicately across your dorm as you opened your door, heading straight to the blonde's room. It wasn't a long walk and as you approach the door at the end of the corridor you didn't even bother to knock, slowly twisting the doorknob as you let yourself in.
Just as you predicted Draco is sitting by his desk, drowning in hundreds of parchments and textbooks. Like your dorm, his is also dark, only a little desk lamp to unveil his pale face. You were so quiet he didn't even notice you come in, and so you walk closer and closer to his sitting figure.
With every step, a new feature of his is brighter– clearer. How the top of his head is messy– probably from running his hands over it again and again. How his brows knit together as his eyes wander over the page of the book he's reading. How he bites his lips in between those perfect rows of teeth. Or how his long slender fingers toy with the edge of the paper– the veins running down his flexed arms– oh how much you've missed those fingers.
Right as you revealed yourself from the dark he looked up, his bright orbs meeting yours in the dark. He was happy you've come, you could tell by the way the corner of his lips twitches into a tiny smile he likes to hide– thinking you wouldn't notice them.
"I didn't hear you come in" He whispered as he extended his arms out to reach your hips– slowly pulling you closer to him.
"Well, you had your nose buried deep in those books" You replied with an identical tone, hushing to him in the dark.
Draco was about to set you on his lap before you stopped him, picking up your hand as your fingers grazed over his, grabbing onto it softly as you guided his hand onto your chest. You were halfway there before his hand froze,
"Not tonight darling, I've got a lot t–"
"When is it then Draco?" You snapped at him before he even got the chance to finish his sentence. Shocked at your reaction Draco's brows shot up, looking up at you as if you were an unsolved puzzle with a missing piece. "You're always busy studying! I put in all this effort into myself and– "
"Effort? Not to burst your bubble darling but you came exactly in a school robe, what effort?" He cut you off as you did with him seconds ago.
"You haven't even tried taking it off– oh for merlin's sake–" You continued to raise your voice as frustration takes over you, in which you ended up ripping off your robe– showing Draco everything that sits underneath.
From the way his eyes shot open to analyze every aspect of your body, you really thought he was going to put down his book for a second but everything comes crashing down as he parts his lips. "I'm still busy Y/N," He said as if you didn't just strip yourself in front of him.
He sighs as he continued to speak "Maybe if you go and sit down and be quiet like a good girl, I might just consider your little offer" He finished off his sentence.
"Consider? Oh, you've got to be fucking with me" You started again as the palm of your hands flew to your hips, right when you were about to open your mouth again an idea struck you. Maybe if– yeah that might just work.
"Dray please" Your figure softened as you pouted to him, showing him your big shiny eyes. "I miss you" You continued as you lowered yourself to his lap, your hands slithering around to the back of his neck as you move around in the spot.
"Later okay?" He replied as he kissed your nose.
Frustrated with him you shot out of his lap to stand straight. "Fine, I'll do it myself" You hissed at him as you stomped down to his neatly made bed. You continued your way to the bed as you heard Draco chuckle from behind. You knew he was enjoying this, toying you around on a string knowing he's the only one who could really get you there.
You sat right in the middle of his bed as you got comfortable on top of the heavy sheets. You had a few ideas and one of them has got to work, right?
You began to gently trace your hand from the top of your neck, slowly bringing it down to your collar bone and to the valley of your breast where each sat so beautifully on the cup of your lingerie. You squeezed your breasts ever so gently, drawing out the pleasure that comes with it.
You looked up to see Draco still reading his stupid books. You casually rolled your eyes as you continued your actions. With every movement, you imagined it to not be your own but rather the touch of the boy in front of you. How he would run his hands all over your body before ripping each piece of clothing off.
Your hand left your breasts to continue down to the heat in between your legs. Keeping all eyes on him, you slowly drew your legs apart, touching everything that could be reached before placing your cold fingers directly on top of your cunt.
You were soaked– your juices staining the outside of your underwear. Just then you began to put pressure into your fingers, slowly rubbing your clit through your underwear as you let the little moans slip out.
Draco tensed immediately upon hearing your voice, yet he continued to face the other way, keeping his eyes on the long pages of the book. You resumed your actions and moved your underwear to the side, goosebumps start to form on your arms as the cold wind hit your sopping cunt.
"It's not gonna work princess" Draco called out as he flipped a page. You knew that if you answered he was gonna win, and so you push and push until you could get to him.
Your moans and whimpers grew louder by the second as you worked your fingers faster on your clit, you knew it was starting to bother him, but you needed that one last push to really rail him.
"Oh– fuck" Your moans cut in parts as you found a sweet spot,
"Yes– Oh god Theo–"
The second his name slip past your lips Draco immediately stood up, throwing the book that was in his hand across the room, and sprinted towards you just to rip your fingers away. Right when he touched you, you could see flames behind his cold eyes, anger as you moaned out his best mate's name instead of his.
Draco didn't say anything at first, all you could see was his eyes, roughly as he took both your hands and pinned them right on top of your head on the headboard. "So this is how you're gonna play hm?" He asked as his face neared your own. He was so close that all you could smell was him, how his toxic scent of mint and citrus circles around the air as you inhale it.
You looked deep into his eyes, and you knew he would give you what you wanted all along. The air was thick around you as you didn't answer his previous question. All you could do was wait for him as he trapped you under his body and his strong gaze.
"I asked you a question Y/N, now where are the manners I taught you?" He asked as he slurred his words.
"Y-yes! I mean no or I–" You opened your mouth to answer him yet all that came out was blabber.
"Pathetic" Draco basically spat at you as he pinned your hands higher, making you sit straight rather than slouched down like you were earlier. "Open your fucking legs" He continues as you obeyed every order coming out of his mouth.
You slowly opened your legs as your wet cunt revealed itself, your underwear going to its original position to cover your heat. You could see your juices leaking down the side. You switched your gaze back to your boyfriend on top of you, a small smirk formed on the edge of his lips as he looked into your heat.
You stayed silent as Draco carefully picked out his next moves. Slowly he stroked your thighs higher and higher until he rested his palm right on top of where you needed him, he was so close yet so far away, and so it surprised you when all of sudden he delivered a hard smack onto your cunt, jolting your body awake as your back arches.
He didn't stop there, giving you exactly two more slaps before soothing the covered skin. Tears pooled on your bottom lashes as you looked at him, his eyes still bore into your sopping cunt and his hand strong as he kept both your hands in place.
Draco kept quiet as he slowly moved your panties to the side– exposing your burning cunt to him. Your hole clenches as the cold air swoops over it, the mixture of pain and pleasure clung onto you. Your body jolts once more as Draco gave your cunt another slap, right on your clit where you're most sensitive.
"Fucking Theo" Draco said, breaking the silence. His fingers slither around your cunt as he gathered all the widespread juices. Massaging your clit gently as you threw your head back. "You wanna go down to his dorm now? Show him how much of a cockwhore you are?" He said as each word went straight to your core.
You quickly shook your head but that wasn't good enough for him "Use your words" He spat as his hand broke away from your cunt to grab your face.
"N-no" You quickly said as he tightens his hand around your jaw,
"No who?" He asked once more
"N-no D-Draco," You said as you mentally cursed yourself for stuttering so much.
Draco stayed still for a second, looking deep into your eyes before letting go of your face just to shove his fingers up inside you. He didn't give you time to adjust as he started to fuck you with his fingers.
A loud moan escaped your mouth as you threw your head back and your eyes roll to the back of your head. The continued feeling of pain and pleasure didn't leave you as it got more intense from Draco's actions. His long and slender fingers worked themselves deep inside you, turning you into a puddle under his touch.
"Can Theo do this?" He asked through gritted teeth as he kept pumping his fingers in and out of your sopping cunt "Fucking answer me Y/N! Can Theo do this to you?" He snapped as you failed to answer his question once more.
"N-No he can't" You finally screamed out as he speeds up.
His fingers continued to assault your throbbing cunt as he felt every inch of you. How your walls tighten around him every few seconds due to how good he made you feel. The fact that it's been a while since you've done this adds to the pleasure, it feels exactly or even better than the first time he went down on you.
It wasn't long until you feel like you were about to burst. The tight coil starts to form at the pit of your stomach as Draco moved to kiss you down your neck. "This is what you wanted right?" Draco mumbled against your collar bone.
"Yes– please I'm so close" You moaned out loud once again.
You were right on the edge, screaming his name as the once silent room was now filled with the sound of your filthy moans and slick heat. Draco didn't have to do much to get you there and so he continues as you felt your walls tighten and your breath hitched. "Oh, I'm gonna cum– Draco fuck.."
Suddenly he stopped his actions, pulling his fingers out of you as you whined at the loss. "But as I remembered you wanted Theo, not me," He said as a smirk grew on the corner of his lips.
A feeling of panic grew within you as Draco started to get up, without thinking twice you grabbed onto his wrist keeping him from standing up, you got up on your knees as your face met his. "N-no no please, I only want you" You brought your hands up to cup his face as you peck his soft lips. "I'm sorry please–". The room fell into silence as you tremble in front of Draco. Just as you were about to speak again, he opened his mouth.
"Get on your hands and knees"
Your eyes widened as you slowly let go of his face, scrambling back onto the bed to get into position. You settled down as you faced the headboard, arching your back just like he taught you. You couldn't see him but you could hear the light shuffling behind you and soon the warmth of his hands on your hips.
"My poor baby, you want to come don't you?" Said Draco as his fingers work to slide your underwear down– the cold air meeting your open cunt once more. "Let's see if you deserve it" You jumped as you felt a tongue flat on your cunt, slithering around as it works down on you. It didn't take long for that one familiar feeling in the pit of your stomach to return.
You arched your back further, shoving yourself to him to finally reach orgasm yet he surprises you once more. You knew you were close but as soon as that feeling came you felt the loss of his tongue on you as the air filled his spot.
"Draco please– I'm sorry" You choked out as another orgasm was robbed from you. He didn't reply as he simply taps your lower back. Before you know it you felt the tip of his cock prodding at your entrance.
"Are you sorry though?" He said as the tip of his cock slips into you "For all, I know you're just a cock hungry whore" He continued as he pushed more of himself into you "Willing to take anyone to fuck you" His hands made way to your hips, gabbing onto them as he rammed the remaining of himself into you, forcing his way in– taking your breath away.
You felt every inch of him, ripping his way through you as the pain and pleasure continued to linger. Just as you were about to answer him, he abruptly pulled back and slammed into you, giving you merely seconds to adjust before repeating his actions.
Then and there he started to pound into you, taking all the air from your lungs. You felt him- his hand as one left your hips to grip your throat, slowly lifting you up so that your back meets his chest.
"You're mine..." He said as the grip on your throat tightens "...And I'm not sharing you with anyone" The feeling that was robbed from you twice started to come back. Your walls tighten as Draco's other hand snuck down to your clit, rubbing in fast motion as you struggled to keep still. "Did I make myself clear?"
You had a hard time processing his words as his cock and his fingers work on you "Y-Yes– Clear Draco" You spat out as the feeling becomes too overwhelming. You couldn't think straight but you knew you were close. Your moans became louder as your eyes rolled to the back of your head, the darkroom making you dizzy.
You could hear Draco talk and groan behind you but you couldn't register what he was saying. "I'm c-coming– Please can I cum?" You started to stutter as the feeling sits on the edge of your body. "Please Draco please can I– fuck" You lost your breath as he didn't slow down his movements.
"Go on then, show me how good you can be coming on my cock" He whispers into your ear as you let go. Your hands grabbing onto him as he helps you through your high, continuing the motion on your clit and pounding into you as the feeling grew stronger and stronger. His hand slowly unclasped your throat– letting the air flow through you again. He guided you through it all just like he always does but he doesn't stop there.
"D-Dray too much -p-please" You whined pathetically as he continued to rut into you, overstimulation started to take over you. Black spots started to appear at the edge of your vision and your consciousness started to slip.
"I'm not done darling– you wanted this so be a good girl and take it," He said in between groans as he speeds up once more. You continued to moan and whine as he reached his high.
Finally, his hips began to stutter, his thrusts becoming uneven as his breath hitched behind you. Draco held onto you as he was approaching, making you feel the warmest of love at the pit of your stomach. "Fuck Y/N" Draco groaned as one of his hands reached out to grip the headboard.
Soon you felt him come inside you, shooting white ropes of cum deep into you as he finally stops his movements completely.
His deep breathing could be heard from behind you as he slowly pulls out from behind you and guides you back down onto the mattress. "Hold it in" He whispered as he turned you to lay on your back.
You could feel your eyes stutter and Draco moving from somewhere above you. The warmth of his palm made contact with your skin as he glides them up and down the side of your legs. "Dray–" You whined as you could feel yourself returning from the fizzy headspace, moving around as you slowly sat upright before you were stopped by him once more.
"Oh no we're not done here," He said as a small smirk formed the edge of his lips. You wanted this, and now you will have to sit in for the whole night as you two caught up on what you've missed.
TAGLIST : @microwavedhampster @o-rion-sta-r @willowmores @whenuwereyoung
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Text
Golden
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader
Summary: The Reader and Bucky go through different stages of the Reader’s pregnancy.
Rating: T
Word Count: 2.6k
Warnings: Mentions of pregnancy, giving birth
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Two Months
Y/N had been mulling over how she was going to tell him since she found out a week ago. She had thought her anxiousness and worries would have faded away after she saw those two little lines on the test. No, they had only increased ten-fold, only worsening when she went to her doctor and got an official test. Her stomach tossing and turning when the doctor told her that she's been pregnant for eight weeks. Y/N was now stuck with the most important and difficult part of this whole thing-telling Bucky Barnes that she was pregnant with his baby.
How does one tell an over one hundred year old super soldier that they're going to be a father?  Getting a tiny Brooklyn Dodgers onesie made? Too cliché. Make some awful pun themed dinner that might include "buns in the oven"? Might go over his head. Hand him the sonogram that she had gotten after the pregnancy test just to be sure? He's from the forties, what the fuck is he going to know about a sonogram?
Y/N was terrified over he was going to react. Bucky was barely getting used to the world, barely getting used to having control of his own mind. And while he had been doing a lot better and he makes sure to take care of himself, Y/N didn't know how he would handle the stress of a baby. Did he even want to be a dad? Y/N didn't even know if she wanted to be a mom, but she know that somehow it felt right. They've never even talked about having children and now-well they were sort of past the point of thinking about having kids.
The whole situation made her want to vomit, and she was pretty sure it wasn't just from the morning sickness.
Y/N eventually landed on telling him over dinner. Nothing too fancy, just the usual place they always go to so that Bucky wouldn't think anything was up. All day long as she sat through meeting after meeting, her date got closer and closer, and that dread that had settled in the pit of her stomach grew with every second. Y/N felt like she was going to vomit by the time she met up with her boyfriend back at their apartment. Luckily, Bucky talks the entire car ride to the restaurant, complaining about something Sam did that day. She uses her training for good, covering up her nervousness with a neutral face.
They made their regular small talk as they sit in the back of the restaurant at their usual table. Y/N orders her usual lemonade while Bucky orders a Coke. They share a basket of bread and Y/N hopes that the carbs soak up the acid that keeps threatening to rise up her throat. Each time she wants to bring up her news, their waitress would come up with refills, an E.T.A on their food, or just to ask how they were doing. And each time, Y/N would glare daggers at her back once she was turned around to walk away.
Then their respective plates of pasta were placed in front of them. Bolognese for Bucky, arrabbiata for Y/N. While usually she immediately dives into her plate, the way her stomach is twisting and turning, she's unable to eat. Y/N pushes her pasta around with her fork as she works up the courage to talk to him. She just didn't know how to say it. All she knew is that she had to say it. Y/N puts down her fork, moving to wipe her now sweaty hands on the cloth napkin on her lap as she looks up at him. Bucky was raising a pasta laden fork up to his mouth as she opened hers.
"I'm pregnant." She finally blurts out. Her voice was soft, barely above a whisper, barely audible over the noise of the other guests at the restaurant. She was afraid that he couldn't hear her, afraid that she was going to have to say it again. But by the way Bucky's eyes widen, she knew that he had heard her loud and clear. He lowers his fork, mouth opening and shutting.
"I-What? You're-What?" The super soldier asks, looking from her face to her stomach and back to her face. Y/N felt like she was going to be sick to her stomach, the blood draining from her face.
"I-I'm pregnant. I found out last week." Y/N manages to get out, still looking down at her plate. Her eyes started to sting and she tried to blink her eyes rapidly in order to keep her tears at bay. Bucky's silence is deafening and Y/N wishes she could run out of the restaurant, but it's like she's glued to the chair. She wants him to say something-anything, but he is silent. Y/N is about to say something when he holds his hands up, almost in defense.
"Wait. I-I don't want you to be upset. I'm not mad-I just don't know how to put my feelings into words. I'm happy. I'm really happy. I just-You know I'm not good with words." Bucky finally speaks, stumbling over his words. Her eyes widen and she quickly looks up at him.
"I-Really?" Y/N asks, the knot her stomach slowly unraveling. Bucky nods, a small smile appearing on his face. This time the tears that are filling her eyes from happiness.
"I'm not going to pretend that I know anything about babies or raising a child, but I'm sure I can figure it out." Bucky jokes, his metal hand fiddling with his utensils on the table. Y/N feels a million times better, a huge weight being lifted off of her shoulders. He looks up at her again, "I'm happy, Y/N. I am."
"Me too. Me too."
-
Four Months
As Y/N walked into her apartment, the only thing on her mind was kicking her shoes off, taking off her bra that was digging into her sides, and taking a much deserved nap. Her meeting had ended early and with Rhodey not needing help with anything, she had decided to return to her apartment. Yet, with not even a foot inside of the apartment, she was immediately greeted with an argument.
"No, what I am saying is you're painting wrong." Bucky snaps, which makes Y/N's eyebrow raise. Her boyfriend wasn't in sight, but he certainly was in the apartment somewhere. She sets her things down, walking over to where the arguing is coming from.
"How the hell can I be painting wrong? I'm putting paint on the wall. The wall is getting painted." Sam fires back and Y/N has to force herself to not laugh, covering her mouth. She stands in the doorway of the guest room, taking in the sight in front of her. The floor and furniture was covered in plastic tarp, blue painting tape lining the white molding and outlets. Painting supplies littered the room and standing in the middle of all of it were two idiots, both of them holding paint rollers covered in a light sage green paint.
"I'm sorry-what's going on here?" Y/N questions, motioning to the two of them and the mess in the room. Their heads snapped towards her, nervous smiles spreading across their faces. They looked like two kids that have been caught with their hands in the cookie jar.
"Hey doll-uh fuck-surprise." Bucky announces a little defeatedly while Sam gives a one handed jazz hand. Y/N laughs, carefully stepping into the room as the 106 year old man tries to explain, "I-We were going to surprise you by painting the room. Why are you home so early?"
"My meetings ended early and I am extremely surprised. Thank you and thank you too, Sammy." Y/N says sweetly, smiling at the two of them. Bucky lets out a sigh of relief and Sam chuckles. While the men may not see eye to eye all of the time, Sam has been a great help to both of them. The man had some knowledge about babies and children, being the proud uncle to two little boys, and he had been trying his best to put some of Bucky's worries at ease.
"I'm just trying to be a really great uncle." Sam teases, which makes the super soldier roll his eyes.  Bucky didn't have any living siblings and Y/N's teammates were the closest thing she had to family so it was going to be Uncle Sam, Uncle Rhodey, Auntie Pepper, Auntie Wanda, and so on and so forth. Their little patchwork support system that they were incredibly grateful for.
"Do you two need any help? I can't because I am pretty sure I'm not supposed to be inhaling paint fumes. But I can give Peter a call, I'm sure he wouldn't mind." Y/N offers, grinning from ear to ear. She knows that both men weren't exactly best friends with Peter Parker, both of them having gotten their asses handed to them by a teenager. Y/N didn't have any issues with the kid, hell she talked to him on a weekly basis. He reported to her every Friday, filling Y/N on his week. While it had first started as him telling her what Spider-Man did, it soon turned into a three hour long meeting that included take out while he filled her in the weekly drama and tales of him and his two friends. And every Friday when she would return to the apartment, Sam and Bucky would greet her by calling her traitor.
"Jesus-No, we are okay doll. I think we can manage, right Sam?" Bucky asks, looking at the other man. Sam just nods, holding his paint covered roller a little higher.
"Yeah yeah I think we will be okay. This room will be done in no time."
-
Seven Months
Y/N watched from her seat at the kitchen island as Bucky moved around the kitchen, attempting to make dinner.
Y/N had been put on bed rest due to the fact that the Super Serum that had affected Bucky's DNA was causing the baby to grow at an accelerated rate. Seeing that this is going to be the first baby born with the serum (that they know of), the doctor wanted Y/N to be cautious.
Bucky, had taken the doctor's words incredibly seriously, going so far as to not even let make any food, like he is doing now.
"Bucky, baby, I can help you, y'know." Y/N tells him as Bucky attempted to follow a fairly simple recipe for marinara sauce. It was already going south pretty fast. He hadn't bought the right type of tomatoes and hadn't chopped nearly enough garlic. She kept herself from micromanaging the whole thing, but it was getting harder and harder to do so.
"Doll, I used to make dinner for me and my sister. I think I can handle this." He replies, setting the knife he was using to chop up the yellow onion aside. He scoops up the onion in his hands, moving to toss it into the big pan on the stove. The onions sizzle as soon as it hits the olive oil covered surface of the pan.
When Y/N had told Bucky she was craving pasta, she had kind of meant that they would just pick something up. Bucky had decided that he would make the meal himself and Y/N, once she saw how excited he was, didn't have the heart to tell him that she had wanted take-out.
It was actually sort of sweet, seeing him trying to hard to make this meal for her. All he wanted to do is take care of her, take care of their baby. She loved cooking for him for the same reason. It was a way to show her love, to show how much she cared about him and he just wanted to do the same.
"Alright, Barnes. I believe in you." Y/N responds, smiling at him. She just watched as he cooked (and occasionally danced to the jazz music that was playing on the record player). It didn't matter if the meal sucked, Bucky was just trying his best to take care of his girlfriend and their child.
But for the record, the meal did suck.
-
Eight Months
It was a sight, seeing them together.
Bucky held their daughter close to his chest, bouncing her carefully as the light started to filter through the blinds of her hospital room. A smile was stretched across his tired face as he moved from side to side, cooing to her softly. His hair was a mess, his clothes incredibly wrinkled. The morning light surrounded the two like a halo and if Y/N could, she'd take a picture of them. A picture of her family.
Their daughter had been born a month early, which wasn't too surprising considering with how fast she had been growing. Although it was a shock when Y/N's water broke the night before while they were sleeping. Then Y/N had spent most of yesterday in labor, finally giving birth to their sweet baby girl-Rebecca Natalia Barnes, named after Bucky's little sister and Y/N's best friend-in the evening. Bucky had started crying when Y/N had told him that she had wanted to name their daughter after his sister, not thinking that Y/N would have wanted to pay tribute to his long dead sister.
"Look Rebecca, mommy's awake." Bucky says softly, looking over to where Y/N was laying in her bed. The Super Soldier grinned at her, still rocking their child. Y/N smiled at the two of them, shifting on the bed so she can sit up a bit more as her boyfriend walked over. She looks up at the two, her heart swelling with the way Bucky looks holding their daughter.
"Hi baby." Y/N says hoarsely, the bundle of pink shifting and squirming in Bucky's arms. She holds her arms out, silently asking if she can hold Rebecca. Bucky carefully places the newborn into her arms before he pulls the plastic chair closer to the bed, not wanting to be too far from either of them.
"I can't believe she's actually here." Y/N announces softly, taking in every detail of her daughter's face in the early morning light. She had Bucky's blue-gray eyes and his nose, but her hair. It felt weird to see her, felt weird to be holding her. Y/N felt like she was dreaming, but the pain she had gone through the night before-the pain she was still feeling now-had made it real.
"Isn't she beautiful?" Bucky asks, looking at mother and child interacting. Y/N nods, tears filling her eyes as she looks down at her daughter. She presses her lips against Rebecca's forehead, taking in that baby smell that every parenting book seemed to mention. Bucky is still smiling, looking at the two, "My two beautiful girls."
Hours from now, the hospital room would be filled with friends what were more likely family, wanting to share this incredibly special moment with the Y/L/N-Barnes family. Rebecca would be introduced with her aunts and uncles, each one of them getting a chance to hold and introduce themselves to the newborn.
But for now, for now, the three of them were alone. The three of them sat together in this room, all getting used to each other. Nothing else existed outside of this room, nothing else mattered outside of this room. All that mattered was that they were together.
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skzsauce01 · 3 years
Text
Angel Sent From Up Above
Anniversary Request Special
Synopsis: Hyunjin, a new guardian angel, has fallen in love with a human. His human’s girlfriend, to be precise. Angel AU, background college AU and skater AU.
Warning: violence
Word Count: 8.3k
Pairing: fem!reader x guardian angel!Hyunjin; fem!reader x human!Jeongin
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“Is she healed now?” Hyunjin asks the moment Jisung flies in. He knows Jisung is probably exhausted from keeping maladies away from you, but he needs the answer now. “Is her flu gone?”
“Yeah.” Jisung’s wings are tinged gray with ruin, but he keeps them on display for all the other guardian angels to see as he walks past them. They are proof that he has been doing his duty. They’ll return to white soon enough anyway. “Your human’s her boyfriend. Why didn’t you try to check through him? He visited a few times even though she told him not to.” Jisung sighs and shakes his head. “What an idiot. He’s going to get sick himself.”
“He hasn't visited recently, so I haven’t been able to check through him. The Archangel’s forbade me going to Earth unless it was something serious. I think he’s worried I'm spending too much time with humans.”
Jisung shakes his head. “I think he’s worried that he’s going to have to Seungmin you.”
“I'm not going to get expelled.”
Jisung shrugs, and ruin falls from his wings like ash. “You better watch out. You checked up on her too much last time she got sick, so he's probably trying to make sure you won't abandon your human. He's banished people for less. Case in point: Seungmin.”
“She's important to Jeongin, so she's important to me."
Jisung sighs. “Sometimes I think you’re more protective of her than I am.”
He says it as a joke, but Hyunjin knows it’s the truth. He cares deeply about you, maybe even more than his own human, but he will never say that last part aloud.
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Hyunjin used to believe that becoming a guardian angel was the best thing that ever happened to him. All of his afterlife, he had wanted to be promoted, to be granted the pure white wings and the crown of sun rays. Regular angels had wings and halos but never white wings and golden halos; silver and silver was the “regular” combination.
Watching over a human was considered the highest honor an angel could receive, and everyone clamored to gain the attention of the Archangel. Hyunjin was not immune. He worked as a messenger for years, delivering even the most inane notes between the higher ups. He endured the attacks, verbal and sometimes physical, and kept his mouth shut. Eventually, the Archangel recognized his efforts, and before dawn broke on Earth, Hyunjin was named the new guardian angel of a baby boy, Yang Jeongin.
“You will protect him. You will guide him,” the Archangel said. “He is your responsibility now and yours alone. Do you understand?”
From Heaven, Hyunjin could only look at the wet, wrinkled face of his human. His human. “I understand.”
Then the Archangel flew off, and Hyunjin flew to Earth for the first time to meet the baby. No one noticed him as he phased through the hospital walls nor as his giant wings folded back. Only Jeongin would be able to see his guardian angel.
“Hello there, little one,” he whispered to the swaddled baby. The boy was fast asleep, and Hyunjin gently stroked his face. “I just wanted to introduce myself. I’m Hyunjin, your official guardian angel. I’ll always be nearby now, and I’ll always make sure you’re safe. Sometimes you won’t be able to see me, but I’ll always be watching over you. I promise.”
Jeongin stirred awake and stared back at Hyunjin. Two sets of eyes blinked at each other, one full of curiosity and one full of tenderness.
“Go back to sleep,” Hyunjin said. He drew his hand over the baby’s face, and Jeongin’s eyes fluttered shut. “Sweet dreams, little one.”
Guardian angels talked about their humans like parents, bragging about how gifted they were and sharing complaints about what unbelievable thing they did the other day. Hyunjin mostly did the latter. Jeongin was an adventurous child, which was just a nice way of saying that he liked to play with danger. Hyunjin often had to fly in to save him or to redirect the threat somewhere else. The other angels joked that Hyunjin stayed on Earth more than Heaven sometimes. He didn’t mind though. Even with his human’s shortcomings, Hyunjin adored him. He watched from above as Jeongin said his first words, attended his first day of kindergarten, and got into his first fight.
“He’s a troublemaker,” Minho observed.
Minho was a guardian angel as well, but he tended to lurk on the outer edges of the realm as the other angels avoided him for a reason Hyunjin hadn’t figured out yet. Hyunjin liked him well enough and treated him like a mentor, sometimes a friend.
“Hey, you’re not one to talk. Your human started a black market of candy at school.”
Minho shrugged. “I didn’t say it was a bad thing.”
Jeongin didn’t end up growing up into a troublemaker, to Hyunjin’s relief. The impulsive streak was still there, but he utilized his judgement more now. There were no car crashes or cases of alcohol poisoning, and when Jeongin asked out girls, it was with daisy bouquets and a suggestion to get lunch. Hyunjin slowly stopped making routine trips to Earth and chose to view Jeongin from the comfort of Heaven. It was there that Hyunjin noticed you.
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“I think she’s upset with him,” Jisung abruptly says. “She cried after a video call with him, so if your human starts acting strangely, that’s why.”
The news makes Hyunjin stop mid-step, and he turns to his friend. “She cried? What? What did she cry about?”
“I don’t know. I was too busy trying to lower her temperature. Can you believe that she almost hit—”
“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”
“I just got back! There is no ‘earlier!’ Besides, we aren't allowed to interfere in anything that isn't dangerous. Heartbreak, if this is even what this is, is temporary."
“Humans do drastic things for love.” The movies has seen while watching Jeongin have told him that much.
“Which we will attend to when it happens. You’re a new guardian; you’ll understand them better over time. Not everything is life-threatening, fragile as they are.”
Hyunjin turns away from Jisung and glances down at Earth. The clouds part, and all of the brick buildings of the university rush towards his eyes as he focuses on Jeongin. He’s asleep at his desk, his lamp still burning bright above him. How long has it been since the video call? Or perhaps he’s just tired from the events of his day. But he looks so small and vulnerable in his chair. Jeongin isn’t fragile — the amount of situations he has gotten out of covered in bruises and blood is astronomical — but he is mortal.
“But she loves him,” Hyunjin softly says, “and he loves her.”
“Exactly. Humans fight over small things all the time, and this is one of those times.” Jisung places a hand on Hyunjin’s shoulder to placate him. “Trust me.”
“... I trust you.”
“Good. I need to rest, but we can catch up and see what stupid things they do after.”
The moment Jisung flies off to the rest area, Hyunjin goes against the Archangel’s orders and flies to your apartment. When he peers inside your bedroom window, he spots you sitting in bed in the dark, your phone screen illuminating your face. He phases inside and sits at your desk chair, resting his forearms at the top rail. You can’t see him, but he wishes that you could.
You mindlessly scroll through messages, sniffling every few seconds. Whether it’s from your crying or your illness, he doesn’t know. He can’t hand you a tissue or tell you comforting things or hug you like Jeongin can. When you wrap your blanket tighter around your shoulders, he wraps his wings around himself as well.
Suddenly you throw your phone beside you and let out a heavy sigh. “It can’t get any worse than this,” you say to yourself.
Hyunjin waits for you to say more, but you only stare at the ceiling with blank eyes. He can’t compel you to talk; only Jisung can, but he’s not here. So instead, Hyunjin knocks over the glass of water on your bed when you shift into a more comfortable position.
“Of course it can,” you sigh again and blot as much water as you can with your tissues. You pull another one out of the box with more force than necessary and furiously dab your sheets. “First I get sick, then I miss a homework deadline that I can’t make up because my professor lost his heart thirty years ago along with his hair, then my boyfriend breaks up with me for like no reason, apparently I have an exam tomorrow, and now I’ve spilled water all over my bed, so I can’t even sleep. Thank you, universe. I really needed this.”
He immediately regrets his decision.
“Worst freaking week of my life,” you mumble as you throw away the wet tissues. Hyunjin almost reaches out for your arm when you pass by, but he retracts it just in time.
When you climb back into bed, you draw your blanket up to your chin and begin murmuring numbers. They come out calm and even at first, but they become more tense as time passes. Hyunjin half-listens as he scans the contents of your desk. A laptop, a shopping bag, an open notebook with doodles on the margins, an uncapped black pen, and a pack of gum. He presses his forefinger to the point of the pen, drawing a tiny heart by touch. Then he stamps the heart among all your misshapen stars and imaginary flowers. You might just think it’s an ink smear, but he hopes you look at it and smile.  
You hit three hundred and forty-seven before you begin to sound drowsy. Hyunjin stands at the foot of your bed, watching as you finally drift off in the middle of three hundred and ninety-three. Serenity settles across your features.
“I’m sorry for what I did earlier. Good night and sweet dreams,” he whispers. He pats the corner of your bed before flying off into the night.
He needs to see Jeongin.
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It was hard not to notice you when you were on a collision course with Jeongin. You were going too fast, and Hyunjin’s wings couldn’t carry him to Earth in milliseconds. With horror, he watched as you sharply turned the building corner on your skateboard and just barely jumped off in time when you saw Jeongin about to make the same turn.
“You okay?” Jeongin asked as he hurried to stop your runaway board.
“I should be asking you that!” you exclaimed as you followed him. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have veered that close to the wall. You’re not hurt or anything, right?”
“I’m fine, don’t worry.”
“Good. I can’t risk getting sued again.” Unsure of how to respond, Jeongin nudged back your board to you. You neatly stopped it mid-roll with your foot. “Thanks, by the way. See you around.”
“Yeah, see you.”
You kicked off, but before you left the area, you turned around and gave him a wave. Jeongin waved back, albeit more shyly than you. After a moment’s hesitation, he yelled out, “Be careful!”
“I’ll try!”
Jeongin laughed and turned the corner, looking at the brick wall with more wistfulness than most people usually did. Before he entered the building, he peeked around the next corner, as if he expected you to come speeding by again. You didn’t.
After that, he noticed you more often, usually swerving around strangers as you cut through campus. Whenever he had the opportunity to say hello, he did so with a smile, and you returned it with a waggle of your fingers before disappearing into the crowd. Once, you nearly crashed into a railing. You laughed it off and gave him another wave along with a funny face. Hyunjin felt something inside him melt. Jeongin must have too since he headed to his next class with the most lovestruck expression Hyunjin had ever seen on him.
It was then that Jeongin began forming a plan.
Two weeks after the first meeting, Jeongin waited in the quad for you to show up. Just as he hoped, you came walking down the steps fifteen minutes later, skateboard tucked underneath your arm. It was supposed to seem like a coincidence, but Hyunjin had followed Jeongin as he scoured nearby skate spots, asking around about you. Yesterday, he had learned where you liked to practice tricks. He got up from his bench, hands hidden behind his back, and approached you with the same moves and confidence he had rehearsed in the bathroom mirror.
“Hey! How have you been?” he called up from the very bottom.
Meanwhile, Hyunjin groaned. Jisung, who Hyunjin had tracked down two days prior to this, also did so.
“You said he was a charmer,” Jisung complained. “Look at him. He can’t even charm dogs with a treat.”
“For your sake, I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that. Just wait though. It’s going to get better.”
Jisung huffed. “It better. She deserves the best.”
Fortunately, you took it all in stride and waved hello at Jeongin. When you were finally beside him, you answered, “I’ve been good, thanks. You’re not here to sue me, right?”
“No! I was actually wondering if you could teach me how to skateboard. If you have time, that is.”
“Really? But I almost killed you that one time. I mean, I’d be happy to, but it’s kind of weird after what happened.”
“I’d rather skateboard than walk, and you seem pretty good at it.”
You shifted your weight to one foot, and Hyunjin chuckled when he saw Jeongin’s eyes wander to your jutted-out hip. Jisung made a noise of disapproval.
“Okay, what is this really about?”
“Skateboarding,” Jeongin said. Then he took a step closer and held out a bundle of daisies towards you. “And lunch, if you want.”
You broke out into a grin. “I am a little hungry right now. L/N Y/N, skateboarding extraordinaire and ramen enthusiast, at your service.”
“Yang Jeongin, also a ramen enthusiast. Nice to officially meet you.”
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Jeongin is still sleeping at his desk when Hyunjin arrives. He shifts and exhales when the wind from Hyunjin’s wings create a small breeze but does not wake.
“How could you break up with her?” Hyunjin says. “She’s amazing and wonderful, and you decide that you don't want to be with her? Sometimes I wonder what’s going on in your head.”
Silence.
“If I were human, I would have never done that, but…”
Jeongin shifts again, burying himself deeper into the crumpled hoodie he’s using as a pillow. The table squeaks, and a mechanical pencil rolls off the desk. Hyunjin quietly places the pencil back to its initial place and shuts off the lamp.
“Take care of yourself, and make good choices, okay? I can’t do that for you.”
Instead of flying back to Heaven, he perches on the roof of the building across from Jeongin’s. Jeongin finally wakes up and notices that his light is off. He glances at it confusedly for a few seconds, wondering if he misremembered leaving it on. In the end, he decides it’s not worth the effort and falls into his bed. He didn’t even spare you a thought, a crime in Hyunjin’s eyes.
Then he realizes he may have a bigger problem on his hands.
Jisung.
Jisung is going to be very upset when he finds out about this.
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Over the weekend, you brought Jeongin to the quad to learn the basics.
“Put both feet on the board now,” you said as you walked alongside a skateboarding Jeongin. He was borrowing yours to practice, so he treated it with more reverence than a well-used board would need. Even though he was pushing with his back foot, he was going at a snail’s pace.
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“I’m going to lose my balance and fall.”
Perhaps it wasn’t reverence after all.
You shook your head. “No, you won’t. You’re not going that fast anyway. You can just step off if you really feel like you are. Give it a shot.”
To his credit, Jeongin lifted his foot a few centimeters off the ground before planting it back. “I’m going to lose control.”
While you did your best to persuade Jeongin to give it another try, Jisung gave Hyunjin a dissatisfied look. “I remember you telling me he was a daredevil. What is happening?”
He didn’t exactly know either. “He’s in front of his crush; give him a break.”
“These two better not end up dating. She deserves so much better than him.”
Hyunjin gave him a dirty look, Jisung gave him a “What? It’s true” type of a shrug.
You step in front of the board. “How about this?” you said. “You stand on the board with both feet, and I’ll pull you along so you can get used to the feeling and be less of a scaredy cat.”
“Okay.”
You took both of his hands and slowly guided him backwards. At the same time, you instructed him to put more weight on one side to change directions. Jeongin was surprisingly stable, and Hyunjin watched proudly as his human suggested that you increase your speed a little.
“See? It’s not bad?” you said. “Keeping balance isn’t that hard, right?”
“Yeah. Also,” he grinned, his meek demeanor completely gone, “we’re holding hands now.”
Your eyes widened as you glanced down at your joined hands, and you let out a delighted gasp. “You sneaky little—” Much to Jeongin’s alarm, you let go and smirked. “If you go past the bench without constantly pushing, I’ll let you hold my hand when you walk me home.”
“Kind of presumptuous of you to assume that I would offer to walk you home,” he teased, resting one foot on the floor. “Or is that what you want me to do?”
“You asked me to lunch with flowers. You were going to.”
“Yeah, you’re right.” Then he kicked off, skating past the bench with ease. Still going, he looked over his shoulder and shouted, “Do you want to grab doughnuts before you head home?”
“Watch the lamp!” you yelled as you ran towards him. “Jeongin, stop looking at me and turn around!”
The collision with the lamppost was unavoidable, so Hyunjin simply watched as Jeongin took a flying leap off your board and took a tumble on the concrete. While you fumbled for band aids — Jeongin’s knee was scraped and bloody — Jeongin patted his pockets to check that his phone had not fallen out.
“So doughnuts?” he sheepishly asked.
“Sure. I’ll buy.” You finally found one hidden in the bottom of your backpack along with an alcohol wipe. “Guess you get to hold my hand after all.”
“How are you so prepared?” he asked, nodding to the contents you had unceremoniously dumped out whilst rummaging. “You have tweezers and gauze?”
“My mom made me carry a first-aid kit with me when she found out that I skate to class. It comes in handy.” You ripped open the package. “This might hurt.”
“You can kiss it to feel better.”
You laughed and pressed the alcohol wipe to his knee. “You’re such a flirt, I love it. Does it hurt?”
“Yeah, hurts a lot.”
You opted to kiss the band aid instead, causing Jeongin to pout and Jisung to sigh in relief. When you stuck it onto his skin, Jeongin made a big production of being relieved from pain, which made you laugh and shove him.
“No! She’s in love with him,” Jisung groaned. His wings drooped, and Hyunjin swore his halo actually dimmed when you kept your hands in Jeongin’s after you pulled him up. “Well, Hyunjin, looks like you and I are going to be best friends.”
Hyunjin personally saw no issue with that. Like Jeongin, he had been charmed by your antics and your easygoing nature. Protecting his human’s friends, family, or lovers wasn’t part of Hyunjin’s duty, but he felt compelled to watch over you too.
Because if he were human, he would have fallen in love with you too.
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In the midst of his lamenting, Jisung flies down and sits beside him on the roof. His wings are still slightly gray, and Hyunjin strangely begins to feel self-conscious of his pure white ones.
“Didn’t the Archangel forbid you from doing frivolous things?” Jisung says in lieu of a greeting. “I saw you at her apartment earlier.”
“I just wanted to check up on her. Not that I thought you lied,” he hastily adds. “I wanted to see for myself. She’s a little… distraught.”
“She got into a fight with her boyfriend. It’s normal.” When Hyunjin doesn’t reply or even make a sound, he grows concerned. “Is it something else? She’s getting sued, isn’t she? I knew it was going to happen someday. When I find that smug richie-rich, I’m going to—”
“Jeongin broke up with her.”
“What.”
Hyunjin repeats his sentence, trying to block the view of Jeongin’s bedroom with his body. Jisung looks like he’s ready to rain judgement onto him, and while Hyunjin is rather good at his job, he’s not sure if he can hold back an enraged guardian angel. Jisung takes several deep breaths before regaining the little composure he can muster.
“I knew I hated him for a reason. I knew he didn’t deserve her,” he spits out, though the venom in his voice wavers. “Why would he even break up with her? She loved him so much.”
Hyunjin shrugs. “That’s what I want to find out.”
“When you find out, let me know. I’m going to see her now.”
Hyunjin stays on the roof until sunrise. Jeongin sleeps without any trouble, and when he wakes up, he looks fresh-faced, no guilt hanging over his head. Hyunjin feels something inside him cracking apart.
You truly don’t deserve this.
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“Do you think they’re going to crash and burn?” Jisung asked as he studied you and Jeongin walking through the park, practically glued to each other’s sides. “I think they’re moving too fast. It’s only been a month.”
Hyunjin really didn’t care about that. As long as you and Jeongin were happy, he was happy. “A month is a pretty long time for them. Mortal lives are short.”
“Exactly. They should be more selective about their life choices.”
Hyunjin only rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to you. You were pointing at the tiny carousel in the middle and tugging at Jeongin’s sleeve. You dragged him over and pushed a coin into the slot for the ride. The lights lit up and a carnival theme played while you struggled to wedge yourself between the saddle of an elephant and the roof of the carousel. Jeongin sat on the edge, beside the tiger, and chuckled at your flailing limbs.
Hyunjin suppressed his own laugh. You were something special. Just last week, the two of you had made it official and started dating. You had done it in the sweetest possible way.
You had taken him to a local skateboarding shop to help him pick out his first board. Once he had chosen one — the ‘one’ being a light blue deck patterned with multicolored doughnuts — the staff at the shop sent him to the back to try it out. Meanwhile, you made the age-old excuse of needing to use the restroom when you were actually getting the flowers you had hidden in the back.
Hyunjin had turned into a pile of fluff when you gave Jeongin the daisy bouquet and asked if he wanted to officially be your boyfriend. You were so earnest. Jeongin playfully pretended to think it over, a feat Hyunjin knew he wouldn’t have been able to do if he were in his position. There were no fireworks or confetti when Jeongin finally said yes, but the staff did clap and cheer. Jisung looked on with contempt. Hyunjin looked on with envy.
“You know,” Jisung abruptly said, snapping Hyunjin back to the present, “when her last boyfriend broke up with her, she had ice cream for dinner for a week.”
“Oh.”
“You see why I’m being wary of him now?”
Hyunjin did, but Jeongin was different. His previous relationships always ended well, and on one occasion, he remained friends with his ex. He sighed and decided that a change of topic was necessary so he wouldn’t have to potentially endure a tirade. “Did you hear about Minho’s human? The bank he worked at got robbed, and he got held at gunpoint.”
That caught the overprotective Jisung’s ear. “What? Is he okay?”
During Hyunjin’s recountment of Minho’s recountment, the carousel ride ended. You squeezed out of your spot, hitting your head on the roof, and Jeongin pulled you in for a forehead kiss. The world grew brighter when you smiled, he realized.
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Hyunjin shadows Jeongin around all day, hoping to learn the reason for the breakup. Unfortunately, Jeongin doesn’t say anything. He does show some regret though, as he scrolls through past messages and old pictures. When he heads to classes, he opts to walk instead of skateboarding like usual and avoids the quad whenever possible.
In the evening, while Jeongin is chewing on his salad like a cow to cud, Hyunjin pays you a visit. He finds in the freezer section of the grocery store with three pints of ice cream in your basket. From the looks of it, you’re about to add another three to your haul. Peanut butter pretzel sounds equal parts delicious and confusing.
Hyunjin studies your expression, frowning at the same time you do. Your eyes are ringed with red, your jaw tight, and your eyebrows seem permanently furrowed. When he follows you back home, he half expects you to start crying on the way, but you hold fast and manage to open a pint of the salted caramel flavor before the tears finally come. There’s no wailing, just sniffling and the sound of you furiously wiping at your face with the sleeve of your hoodie. In the midst of it all, you find the strength to reorganize the freezer to make space for the other pints. Something about that makes Hyunjin’s heart drop.
By the time your roommate discovers you in the kitchen, the entire refrigerator has been reorganized and the ice cream finished. You sit in a dark room, your finger hovering above the ‘SEND’ button of a message to Jeongin. Hyunjin can see it if he flies above you: “Can you please just tell me why? You keep saying you did something wrong, but I don’t even know what it is. Please let me decide if it’s worth breaking up over.”
“Rough day?” she gently asks as she flips on the switch.
“Yeah.”
“Do you wanna talk about it?”
“Maybe tomorrow. I just wanna process it right now,” you hollowly say. You grab your skateboard — the same black, paint-splattered one you had last year — and unlock the front door. “I’m going out for a ride, but I’ll be back in an hour or so.”
“Stay safe.”
After you leave, Jisung phases through the kitchen walls and hisses at Hyunjin, “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be with Jeongin?”
He nearly forgot about him. Eating dinner isn’t a dangerous task anyway though. Besides, if Jeongin does get physically harmed somehow, Hyunjin will feel an echo of the pain. Hyunjin glances at the door, and Jisung shakes his head.
“I’ll take care of her. Go back to Jeongin, and make sure he’s okay. You can’t keep leaving him all the time.”
“Fine, I’ll go.”
“Good.”
Hyunjin reluctantly goes back to Jeongin, who is still eating his salad. His resolve from last night is clearly gone as evidenced by his melancholy expression as he scrolls through even more photos. The one of you in mid-air makes him clutch his phone.
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“Let me get one of you when you’re really high up,” Jeongin suggested. He was comfortable gliding around on a skateboard now, but nowhere comfortable enough to try any tricks. Nevertheless, that didn’t stop you from trying to get him to learn. The “pop shove it” was your favorite, solely for the amount of height you could get.
“Okay.”
As you did over and over again for your enthusiastic boyfriend who was unfortunately not that great of a photographer, Hyunjin observed from a rooftop behind Jeongin. Sometimes you looked like you were flying. He could imagine wings protruding from your back, and if the sun hit you just right, there appeared to be a halo as well.
“I got one!” Jeongin exclaimed as he held up his device to you. “Look.”
Hyunjin couldn’t see for himself, but your mouth dropped into an ‘o’ once you took a first glance. A flustered smile made its way onto your face, and everything about you turned soft.
“This looks amazing,” you said. You sidled up to him and rested your cheek against his shoulder, turning your head towards him. “I love you.”
The words hung in the air for a few seconds as both Hyunjin and Jeongin tried to process them. This was the first time you had ever said them, and it came seemingly out of nowhere. Hyunjin recovered first.
“Say ‘I love you’ back, you moron,” Hyunjin whispered, like Jeongin would be able to hear him from this distance. “‘I love you too.’”
“I wanted to say it first,” Jeongin finally said. “Ugh, I had it all planned out too. We were supposed to get doughnuts after this, and I was going to buy you one of those heart-shaped ones.”
You kissed him on the cheek and intertwined your fingers with his. “We can still do that.”
At the doughnut shop, he said the words second, and you kissed him again, leaving a crystal of glaze on the corner of his mouth. Hyunjin licked his lips as if you had left it on him instead.
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“Did you find out?” Jisung asks when Hyunjin leaves Jeongin to check up on you. You’re skating around the city, making sharp swerves and weaving in-between lampposts. Jisung is trailing behind you in the sky, but he slows when he sees Hyunjin approaching.
“No, but—”
“Then go back to him. Hyunjin,” Jisung sighs, “I know you care about her, but she’s not your human. Jeongin’s your responsibility.”
“I know but—”
“Go back. And I’m telling you this not as your friend but as your senior. You’re a guardian angel, and you need to take your responsibilities seriously. I’ll get the Archangel involved if I have to. Do you want to get Seungminned?”
The threat of the Archangel strangely doesn’t scare him anymore, however. In fact, the Archangel being involved may solve many of his current issues.
“I’ll find you again when I find out,” Hyunjin slowly says.
Jisung nods in approval before racing after you again. Hyunjin heads to Heaven, not to keep an eye over his human but to become human.
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Ten months into Jeongin’s relationship with you, Hyunjin asked Minho, “Is it possible to give up your divinity?”
Minho gave Hyunjin a curious look. “Is being a guardian angel that taxing for you? You haven’t even experienced a full lifespan yet. I know, twenty year-olds are annoying, but it’s not nearly as bad as forty year-olds and their mid-life crisis.”
“I’m just curious. Or, as a last resort,” he added, hoping that Minho would stop being suspicious if he joked about it. “My human’s been making some dumb choices.”
A lie, but Minho fell for it.
“I told you he was going to be a troublemaker!” he cackled. He sympathetically patted Hyunjin’s back. “If I’m being honest, I thought about it a few times. I always get assigned to the troublemakers. Probably because the higher-ups hate me for not tolerating their BS. They’re always playing favorites. Anyway, the easiest way is to get expelled by the Archangel. It’s happened a few times before.”
“Can’t you just ask him?”
Minho smirked. “You don’t think other angels have tried that? He only expels the ones who don’t want to be. It’s supposed to be a punishment.”
“What’s the hard way then?”
“Same thing minus the Archangel getting involved: your wings getting cut off,” he matter-of-factly answered. “The halo will break once your wings are detached. It’s only been done once, by the way.”
Hyunjin absentmindedly rubbed the area where the bones of his wings met with his shoulder blades. All he needed were two clean cuts across his practically impenetrable back.
“How do you do that?”
“With the Archangel’s sword. Another angel has to cut it though; you can’t do it yourself.”
The Archangel would likely banish him to Hell for even asking about his weapon. If Hyunjin ever did manage to steal the sword away, Jisung would never agree to it. He couldn’t just ask any angel to help him.
“How do you know about all this?” Hyunjin asked.
Minho hesitated, something he rarely did. He quickly recovered, hiding his sudden apprehension with his usual devil-may-care nonchalance. “I can’t give away all of my secrets.”
“We’re friends, aren’t we?”
Friends. The word hung in the air like the sun, and Hyunjin knew that Minho would tell him because underneath all of his bluster was loneliness. Because no one liked Minho, or if they did, they still avoided him anyway.
“Yeah, we are,” Minho answered, smiling for a second before a strange expression crossed over his face, pride mixed with a touch of sadness. “Do you really think the Archangel would have expelled one of his favorite guardian angels that easily?”
“Who are you talking about?”
“Seungmin. He asked me to cut his wings for him.”  
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“I need you to cut my wings,” are Hyunjin’s first words to Minho after not speaking to him for days.
To his credit, Minho is only speechless for a few seconds. The dove in his hand pecks at him for more headpats before he recovers. “Well, do you have the sword?”
“No, but I think I can get it. When I do though, would you do it? You’re the only one I trust.”
Minho sighs and tosses the bird out of Heaven, grimacing a bit when he hears it squawk. When he faces Hyunjin, he smiles the same smile he did when he talked about Seungmin. “It’s always me, huh? I’ll do you one better. I’ll steal the sword for you. The Archangel’s been pissing me off anyway.”
For once, Hyunjin’s thoughts are not on you but his friend. He imagined that Minho would be willing, but perhaps he’s too willing. “Are you trying to get expelled as well? We can go together.”
“No, I like being immortal. I hate all of the BS I get put through sometimes, but the Archangel can’t kick me out. He swore an oath to me a long time ago before he got promoted, and it’s pretty much unbreakable. Besides, even Heaven needs a scapegoat.”
That explains why virtually no angels interact with Minho, Hyunjin being the exception. He has never heard of the Archangel being oathsworn, though it seems likely that the Archangel wants to keep that a secret.
“How are you going to get it?” Hyunjin asks. “How did Seungmin even get it? The Archangel always has it with him.”
“Seungmin was one of his favorites,” Minho reminds him. “He had easy access to him, and the Archangel trusted him enough to let him borrow it for ‘a study.’ Don’t worry about me though. Just wait for me on Earth. Somewhere where no one goes. I’ll find you, slice off your wings, and the Archangel won’t even know what happened to you.”
“That’s not possible. He always keeps it on him.”
Minho shrugs, a gleam in his eyes. “I’ve done it before. Why do you think I’m the scapegoat?”
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Seungmin. For Minho and now Hyunjin, being Seungminned didn’t mean being expelled for being frivolous anymore; it meant leaving of your own accord.
“What happened to him?” Hyunjin asked. “Why didn’t the Archangel grant his divinity back? Someone should have spotted him on Earth.”
Minho’s wry grin was back. “You think the Archangel wanted everyone to find out the golden boy of Heaven no longer wanted to be an angel? Plenty of angels already saw him roaming Earth. It was easier to let everyone think that Seungmin was banished. So when they saw him on Earth, he was just a fallen angel, nothing important.” He nudged Hyunjin’s arm, and the solemn atmosphere vanished. “A troublemaking human isn’t all that bad. Like I said, the twenties are annoying, but they’re manageable. Is he one of those partying types?”
“He goes out sometimes,” Hyunjin carefully replied. Jeongin liked hanging out with his friends and you — mostly you, now that Hyunjin thought about it — but he wasn’t getting blackout drunk every night. At least, Hyunjin hoped he wasn’t. He usually watched over you if you were ever in the vicinity. “Speaking of which, I should check up on him.”
Minho said his goodbyes, and Hyunjin flew back to Earth once he saw that you weren’t with Jeongin. You were studying at your desk, rolling a pen between your fingers, reading through a document on your laptop. The desk light casted a warm glow on your face. You frowned, and your lower lip swelled outwards.
He wished he were human.
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Just as Minho said, Hyunjin waits for him to arrive in a secluded part of the university campus. The building rooftop is devoid of anyone, and the area surrounding it is empty as well. The evening turns into night, then night into the early morning when the sky begins lightening. Still, Minho has not come.
He distantly wonders how Jeongin is faring and his promise to Jisung. When he’s human, he’ll ask Jeongin directly, maybe in disguise of a survey: “Why did you break up with your last partner?” Even to him, it sounds stupid. However, that’s not the real reason why he’s giving up his divinity, so it hardly matters to him. Jisung is resourceful; he’ll find out eventually.
Finally, when the sun peeks over the horizon, Minho descends from Heaven, a familiar silver sword in his hand. He lands beside Hyunjin, a triumphant smile on his face. But his usual humor has been replaced with solemnity.
“You’re sure about this?” he asks as he rests the blade on the top of Hyunjin’s wings.
He has never felt so sure of anything in his life. “Yes.”
“It’s going to hurt.”
“Then make it quick.”
Searing pain shoots through his body as the sword pierces through the thin skin and into the bone. The process is not as nearly as seamless as Hyunjin hoped it would be, and Minho breathes heavily as he pushes the blade down. Bones snap, feathers drift to the floor, and blood trickles down his back. The pain only grows greater near the end, but Hyunjin grits his teeth and keeps quiet. Dawn breaks when his wings finally fall to the floor, no longer white but splattered with red. Soon they fade into dust, and the remnants scatter into the wind. His golden halo shatters into sunlight. The world dulls as the last of his powers disappear, but everything feels much better than when he was an angel.
“Thank you,” he whispers to Minho, who he cannot even look at anymore. His eyes would be burned.
“You’re fallen, not quite mortal and not quite divine. You won’t be affected by all of an angel’s power.”
When Hyunjin cautiously glances at him, Minho waves the bloody sword at him. “See?”
“Yeah.” He wanted humanity, but this is good enough for him. He just needs you to be able to see him, hear him, touch him.
“I need to go back before Heaven becomes Hell, but find Seungmin if you can. He can help you figure things out. Last I heard, he’s living somewhere in the mountains.”
“Thank you,” he repeats. “Minho, I can’t even put it into words about how much this means to me. Thank you for everything you’ve done.”
Minho pats his shoulder before stripping off his clean shirt. “Clean yourself before you leave. No one wants to witness a walking crime scene this early in the morning.”
When he flies back to Heaven, the last thing Hyunjin sees are his wings, still pure white.
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“Hey,” you said as you laced your fingers with Jeongin’s. He had just finished class, and you had waited for him outside the building. Hyunjin had sat on the other end of the bench, savoring the proximity. That was the closest he would ever get to you. “Are you busy tonight? The skate shop just announced — literally an hour ago, those jerks — that they were doing a midnight drop, and I kind of want a new deck.”
“Ugh, I’ve been meaning to buy new trucks, but I have to meet up with my group tonight. Send me pictures though.”
Disappointment only momentarily flooded through Hyunjin. If it was anything like the last two meetups, it would be at the library, and the library was a safe place. Jeongin would be fine there. Hyunjin would be free to shadow you as you went to the skate shop.
“I can get it for you,” you offered.
He shook his head. “It’s fine. Maybe I’ll just wait for a sale.”
“Don’t be surprised if I do get you new trucks,” you warned. You let go of his hand and held his arm. “I still owe you for last month’s dinner.”
Jeongin shook his head again, a smile making its way onto his face. “You don’t owe me anything but a kiss.”
“Flirt,” you laughed as you pressed your lips to his cheek. “Never change, Yang Jeongin.”
That night at the skate shop, Hyunjin hovered above you as you stood in line, chatting with others. There were no unscrupulous characters around, but he stayed with you, only going back to Jeongin when Jisung insisted. However, by then, Hyunjin had already seen you eyeing the shiny teal trucks through the window. Hyunjin knew nothing about skateboards even after all those months, but you seemed pleased by them.
“You’re only getting trucks for sure?” your brand new acquaintance asked. “This is, like, the biggest drop they’ve ever done.”
You shrugged. “I’m kind of on the fence about the decks I saw on the email. I don’t know. Maybe wheels too?”
Meanwhile, Jisung hissed, “Hyunjin, go before something happens. What if a fight breaks out?”
Hyunjin sincerely doubted that one would happen at the library. He lingered around, taking his time unfolding his wings and stretching them.
“Your boyfriend’s lucky,” your acquaintance sighed.
“Nah, I’m the lucky one.”
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Daisies, that’s what he needs right now. Choosing the rooftop of a building was not a smart decision, but the access door is thankfully unlocked, and Hyunjin races down all of the emergency stairs. However, with no form of currency on him, Hyunjin heads to the quad, hoping that he can pull up some dandelions for you. You need to be supported, and bright yellow flowers are just the thing.
What he doesn’t expect though, is to find you doing pop shove its at your usual spot. It’s so early in the day; did you even go back to your apartment to sleep?
“Good morning,” he calls as he walks closer. He waves at you, and you can see him! You tentatively wave back and give him a halfhearted smile. “How are you today? You look beautiful.”
“Thanks, and I’m fine,” you politely reply as you take a step back away from him. “What about you?”
Hyunjin curses in his head and takes another step towards you. “I’m good. Really good, actually. I was wondering if you could teach me how to skateboard. I’m new here, and skateboarding seems like an efficient way to get around.”
You flinch at his words, and he desperately wants to take them back. How did Jeongin do it? Why do his statements come out so stiff? “You seem pretty good at it.”
“Are you not cold?” you blurt out. Hyunjin curses again as he realizes that he’s shirtless. His old one was stained, and Minho’s was as well as the result of his cleanup. This isn’t how it’s supposed to go. “You know, I have to get going, but it was nice meeting you.”
“Hyunjin. My name’s Hyunjin.”
“Nice meeting you, Hyunjin.”
You grab your board and immediately head off to the direction of your apartment. Hyunjin is tempted to follow, but he stays where he is. A bad first impression isn’t the end of the world. The only thing holding him back is his lack of a shirt.
He wanders through the quad, scanning the grass for some flowers. Most of them are the white, fluffy dandelions, but he needs the bright yellow version. However, he takes the white ones anyway in case he can’t find any. The wind scatters the seeds, and he—  
“Hyunjin, I told you not to come back.”
Jisung.
Hyunjin turns around, dropping his bouquet onto the ground. To his horror, not only is Jisung present but also the Archangel. His sword is strapped to his side like usual, not a blood splatter tainting it. Minho did an excellent job of cleaning up the crime scene.
“Jisung, Archangel,” Hyunjin nervously greets. The Archangel frightens him now. “How can I help you?”
“Jisung, why did you bring me here?” the Archangel asks. “I have other things to attend to.”
“He’s abandoned his human too many times, and I don’t think he’s fit to be a guardian angel anymore.”
The Archangel grasps the hilt of his sword and studies Hyunjin, up and down, back and forth. He circles him, and Hyunjin can almost feel his mortality-divinity shining through his body. Jisung hasn’t noticed yet, but there is no doubt the Archangel hasn’t.
“Normally,” the Archangel begins, “the punishment for not fulfilling your duties as a guardian angel is being expelled from Heaven. But you have already fallen.”
“What?” comes Jisung’s shocked voice.
“It was a mistake,” Hyunjin tries. Minho’s words ring in his ear: He only expels the ones who don’t want to be. “I thought I wanted humanity, but I’ve realized that being a guardian angel is the best thing that has ever happened to me. Please. Grant me my divinity back. I will never abandon my human again. I will swear an oath if I have to.”
The Archangel smiles with no teeth, and a chill runs down Hyunjin’s spine. “I’m in a forgiving mood today, so I will do just as you ask. Your divinity will be granted back, but you will no longer be a guardian angel. I’m stripping you of those powers and those duties. You will be replaced immediately. It was my mistake for tasking you with such a large responsibility when you weren’t ready yet.”
With just a snap of the Archangel’s fingers, Hyunjin’s senses sharpen, and the world comes hurtling at him. Nothing is dull anymore, but everything feels so dark and wrong. You will never be able to see him, hear him, or talk to him again. And he will never be able to either. Power surges inside of him, and new wings burst through his shoulder blades, fanning out once they reappear. A silver halo hangs over his head. There is no physical pain into becoming immortal again, yet he wishes there was something. Everything he and Minho did was erased with ease.
Hyunjin swallows the lump in his throat. “Thank you,” he chokes out.
“You’re very welcome. Come along now. Only guardian angels are allowed to be on Earth.”
Hyunjin follows the Archangel back to Heaven while Jisung goes after you. The Archangel loudly deliberates on who he should be replaced with, and Hyunjin knows that his request was not granted with kindness. The Archangel informs that he will be a messenger again. Hyunjin barely hears him as he takes one last look at Earth. Jeongin is there. Jisung is there. You are there.
Hyunjin avoids Minho’s eyes as he flies inside the realm behind the Archangel and hides among the rest of the regular angels until he is called to send a message. The higher-ups recognize him, make snide remarks about his demotion, and make pitiful faces at him. He barely registers them. There is a hollowness in him, and no matter how many memories he recalls, it isn’t enough to fill the void.
A few weeks later, Jisung approaches him, but even he stays a healthy distance away. “Hyunjin.” The disdain is clear.
“Jisung.”
“You knew about the reason all along, didn’t you? You were there when it happened.”
“When what happened?”
Realization dawns upon Jisung, and he shakes his head in disgust. “I should have known. You weren’t with him that night because you left him like you always did! You could have done something. Make him fall off his chair or something. Make the girl lose her balance. Instead, both of our humans suffered because you weren’t there.”
“What happened?”
“A girl from his group project randomly kissed him, and he thought he had been leading her on and cheating on his own girlfriend, so he broke up with her because he thought that would be the right thing to do instead of just telling her what actually happened. They’re back together now because he finally got the nerve to give her closure. It took nearly a month. They were miserable for a month. All because of you.”
It stings. “They’re okay now, right?”
“They’re fine, no thanks to you.” Just when Hyunjin thinks he’s going to leave, he takes a step forward, lips curled into sneer. “You know, angels and humans aren’t allowed to be with each other. It’s been forbidden for millenia.”
“I know,” he whispers. “But I loved her, and I had to try.”
“She would have never chosen you anyway.”
He never had a chance, did he?
~ ad.gray
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Yes, you did! I remembered it and wondered if you were going to come back! Hope you enjoyed this! <3
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diosmio76 · 3 years
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What I Deserve (2) | soft Dark!Bucky Barnes x Reader
Bucky couldn’t believe his luck when he found you. So innocent, so alone, and so naive. He had been following you throughout the week, hell- he wasn’t even trying to hide it anymore and you never noticed him once.
Pairing: Dark!Bucky x Reader
WARNINGS: +18, dub-con, needle use, stalking, fingering, kidnapping, kind of non-con (more dub-con but just incase)
Word Count: 3,076
A/N: my timeline on which version of Barnes is fucked up and a mix of everything honestly // my first ever time writing smut, and honestly I'm open to constructive criticism b/c I have no experience in this area LOLZ
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You squeezed your eyes as you stretched your body. Feeling your comforter rise and fall against your skin from your movements. You hung your feet off your bed and stretched them before standing up. You did your usual set of morning stretches, were they done correctly? Probably not, but it was the thought that counts and the only form of self-care you gave yourself. You let out a sigh as you got ready for another day similar to all the rest. You don’t even remember what it felt like to be excited about waking up, but who were you to complain. You used the toilet as you went back and forth in your mind about nothing in particular, your eyes staring at your bed that was quickly losing the warmth it collected from your body. Once done in the bathroom you dragged yourself to your vanity, hearing the faint noise of cars on the street, you began getting ready for work. After changing and grabbing your tattered work bag, you began your journey with all the other commuters.
The day dragged on like any other, talking to coworkers only when they needed something from you. Hearing the usual remarks of “Oh, I didn’t notice you” or “I didn’t even see you there”, you got used to it but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t bother you. Before you had time to dwell on it, it was time to go home. You packed your bag then began your walk home, following the same route you always take during the week. Taking a little solstice in the fact that you were just another face in the crowd, that fact made you feel as if everyone else was alone too. Once home you locked the door and dropped your bag, heading to the bedroom you changed into an oversized shirt and put on your slippers before heading towards the living room. You turned on the tv and lowered the volume for some background noise, making the short trip towards the kitchen to make dinner. You rarely got messages on your phone unless it was from your mom or your phone provider wanting you to update your old phone, so you scrolled mindlessly through various social media newsfeeds. You munched on a vegetable as you waited for your pan to heat up. You tried to not feel bad for yourself, you were the one to blame for the lack of social life but you were in too deep. Too set in your ways. You stared at the steaming pan as you imagined moving across the country.
“Yeah right” you said aloud to yourself as you finished cooking your dinner, eating the food but not really tasting it.
~~~
You repeated the same routine the next day, unbeknownst to you today was the day that Bucky decided you were ready. It didn’t take him long to find a house isolated by miles of forest. Despite its unassuming traditional exterior, the inside was modern as he enjoyed the impersonal nature that the style provided. He spent the majority of his time there making sure the house was locked and secure in case you tried anything. The thought made him laugh a little, knowing you didn’t have it in you but he didn’t want to take any chances. Things had been going his way lately, and finding you was like the universe was rewarding him even more. At first, he considered getting to know you, and doing the whole flowers and dates thing but decided he didn’t have the patience for all that waiting, he’s been waiting long enough and he deserved something good. He settled on a much easier method. Breaking in was easy, old apartments like this barely gave him any trouble. He even had someone hold the building door open for him, just his luck.
The lock felt weird when you opened your door but you didn’t think anything of it, dismissing it as another sign of the building’s old age. He watched from afar as you went about your usual routine. He was beginning to become skeptical at how oblivious you were. He was practically behind you and you hadn’t even looked over your shoulder once. He even made some accidental noises by stepping on squeaky floorboards and didn’t get a reaction from you, he took this as another lucky break. You were tired today and fell asleep relatively easily, considering how long it typically took you to fall asleep. Bucky walked around your apartment as he waited for you to enter a deeper sleep, familiar with everything since he had been in here a few times since first spotting you all those weeks ago. He looked at your book collection, a mix of genres, and looked closer at the few photos you had on display. A majority of the old photos seemed to be of your family from decades ago. He picked up one that seemed more recent, the only one you had up that included you. He recognized the other two people in it, your mom and sister, both busy with their own lives. He already sized up your family and it would be easy to handle them if he needed to.
He walked into your bathroom and went through your medicine cabinet, finding nothing out of the ordinary besides a few nail polish bottles and various allergy medicines. Finally, he noticed the soft snores coming out of your room. He shut the cabinet, staring at his reflection for a second. He knew this was the right thing to do and had no bad intention. He softly grunted at his pathetic moment of self-reflection and took out a needle filled with a small dose of anesthesia. He observed you for a moment as you slept, mouth slightly agape and eyebrows relaxed, he considered for a moment how easy it would be to take you, but reminded himself of the bigger picture. He easily found a vein and waited a few minutes before taking you to your new home.
~~~
You squeezed your eyes shut and smiled to yourself as you thought about how well you slept last night. You hummed as you kept your eyes closed briefly noticing the absence of warmth that the morning sun provided you in the mornings. You thought nothing of it, too distracted by the fact that this was probably the best night’s sleep you’d gotten in months. Despite that you still felt a little groggy, you began to move but quickly felt something rough holding you down. Your eyes shot open as your breathing began to quicken. You became conscious of the rough restraints around your arms and legs. You awkwardly lifted your head up as you tried to look around, it looked like a basement based on the unfinished walls surrounding you, a single lightbulb hanging above you on the unfinished ceiling. You attempted to calm yourself down by deeply inhaling but knew it was a lost cause once you heard the shaky exhale leave your mouth. You knew you couldn’t break free from the knotted rope holding you down. You had weak arms and tried to use your leg strength in an attempt to kick yourself free but felt it begin to sting as it irritated your ankles from the pressure. You sat in a deafening silence and felt completely petrified.
You let out a whimper as you heard footsteps approaching the door. The door opened as you saw a tall, broad man approach you. You were too scared to notice anything about him and began to feel yourself shake, causing you to miss the way he hungrily reacted to your frightened state. A shadow was cast on you as he stood over the bed. From the corner of your eye, you watched as his right hand lowered the comforter to your torso and expose your shirt as you twitched at the action. He smirked in response, your eyes following his hand as it hovered over the comforter as though he was going to do something. It exited your line of sight but your eyes were fixed in place. You heard movement as he straightened himself before speaking to you for the first time.
“Did you sleep well? You’ve been out for most of the day” His deep voice filled the room as you kept shaking, too scared to answer. You could hear your heartbeat in your ears and wondered if he could too, but he was too busy trailing his eyes over your torso. He noticed the way your nipples created peaks on your oversized shirt. He licked his lips before he moved his hand up to grab your chin, forcing you to look up at him. You did your best at avoiding his gaze keeping your gaze low, you swallowed the lump in your throat and tried to control your shaking but felt it intensify instead.
Still gripping your chin, a little tighter than necessary, and trying to control your shaking body got him hard. You looked so weak like this, it made him excited, a wicked smile painted his face as he looked down at your wide eyes and lips clamped together in terror.
“Look at me when I talk to you, doll”
You had a difficult time looking people in the eyes in general, so you lifted your eyes and stopped at his chin. You didn’t dare go any higher. He squeezed on your chin and heard him let out an amused chuckle. If you weren’t so terrified you would have noticed how out of place it sounded given the situation.
“That’ll have to do, for now, I can tell you’re terrified but you really have no reason to be. I only want to do what’s best for you- for us, I’m only doing what needs to be done.” He didn’t expect a response and stared at you as he let you sit with his words.
He took a moment and let his hand trail down from your chin. He felt the nervous swallow as his pointer finger trailed lower and lower. His finger deviated from its straight path as he placed his palm against your chest, pausing to feel your heartbeat racing. He almost felt sorry as he felt its frantic rhythm. He couldn’t help himself as he cupped your left breast. His thumb gently circling around the hard bud. You scrunched your eyebrows and scolded yourself for getting pleasure from his action. His gentle touch was a strong contrast to the situation he had put you in.
His finger continued its journey down and stopped just above your mound. You swallowed as you felt his eyes staring at you intently, not daring to see if you were right. He lifted his hand momentarily as he moves to sit next to you, hearing the springs groan under him, pushing the comforter towards the bottom of the bed. You get chills as warmth escapes, feeling the crisp air conditioning surround your body instead. Jerking at his touch, he returns his right hand to your body just below your navel this time. His fingers trace down until it feathered above your mound. You held your breath as if any noise from you would assure that he would continue his actions as if he would forget you were there. You felt his pause when his fingers hit the material of your cotton underwear. He slowly traces a short line along your clit, you ball your hands into fists wanting to make him stop. Why was your body enjoying this?
You hold your breath as he gently pulls them down till they were at your knees and returns his hand to its previous place. The empty room is quiet, amplifying the sound of both of your breaths. You feel his middle and ring finger move lower gently stroking your folds. You hear him let out a surprised huff as he continued stroking.
“I was gonna bring lube, but it looks like we won’t be needing it, huh sweetheart?”
You felt your cheeks heat up, he was right. You felt heat building ever since he grabbed your chin, but he didn’t need to know that. All you wanted to do was at the very least was cover your face, but felt the irritation of the rope on your wrists instead. He began back and forth on your heat for a few moments. The room now having the added noise of his fingers slowly speeding up as he stroked you. You shut your eyes as he circled around your entrance, you could already tell his fingers would be significantly bigger than yours. He slowly inserted a finger as you sucked in a quick breath. You could hear him let out a quiet groan as he watched his finger disappear into your hole.
After finding a rhythm he added another finger. You let out a whimper at the fullness of both of his thick fingers filling your hole. It stung at first, hurting slightly you wanted to try and stop his intrusion. Besides your finger, you had never had anything else inside of you. You felt slightly embarrassed by this when you were younger but as you got older you accepted the fact that your lack of social life was a major reason as to why you never had anything close to a romantic partner. Never being social enough to meet someone that you would want to be friends with, let alone sleep with. You felt as though you should tell this man, did you even know his name, that this was the farthest you’ve ever gone with anyone before. Before you think any more about it you open your mouth, nothing coming out at first but it was enough for his eyes to go to your face. He slowed down his pace and had his eyes trained on your face waiting for you to speak as if his fingers weren’t leisurely stroking your soft walls in the meantime.
“I- I think I need to tell you something” The words left you slowly and your voice was shakey as you tried to speak and ignore your oncoming orgasm at his rough fingers stroking you gently. Why did you feel like you owed him this? You briefly thought to yourself. But it was too late to stop now.
He smirked at you as he waited for you to continue on. So far, you’ve shown him nothing but submissiveness. Cementing the fact that he made the right choice when he chose you. He didn’t plan on being this gentle with you originally but he couldn’t help it, feeling as though any other treatment would scare you away. His fingers never stopping their gentle strokes, he watched your lips as your quiet voice trembled on.
“I’ve never really, I haven’t done any of this before. I’m a virgin” the words leave you slowly, you gulp and still refuse to meet his gaze, scared for a moment that you would lose the gentleness he has given you thus far. You knew that wouldn’t stop him, but a small part of you hoped it would be enough for him to stop just for now. For the first time you decided to look at his face, still too scared to meet his eyes you opted to watch his mouth as you waited for a response.
To say he was ecstatic was an understatement. You had chosen to tell him this on your own, he didn’t even get a chance to ask you. He didn’t want to assume but based on his observations of you he had an inkling that this was the case. He felt proud of you, his perfect girl. He smiled gently at you in response. You shivered as his fingers paused their gentle strokes in you as he moved to kiss the top of your head.
“Thank you for telling me, my good girl” it sounded patronizing but your body thought otherwise. Feeling heat shoot straight to your core at his response. He felt you squeeze around his fingers at his response.
Once he felt that you adjusted to his fingers he began to alternate inserting them. Thrusting one and then the other inside of you. Your eyes squeezed shut, you never felt this close to cumming so quickly. Your eyes swelled with tears as you quietly sobbed, reaching your climax. Both of you watched as he pulled his fingers out of your sensitive heat. Covered in slick from your climax. You watched as he moved his fingers close to his face, smirking at you.
“Just a little taste for now,” he said he brought his fingers to his mouth to suck on his two fingers that were just inside you seconds ago. The empty room amplified the sound, your face felt hot as you watched the lewd act feeling your core still throbbing.
He reveled in your obvious embarrassment, humming at your reaction. He wiped his damp fingers on his pants as he got up. You blinked slowly, taking in what had just happened. You had enjoyed what had just happened but felt angry at yourself for that. He shouldn’t have done that, and you had let yourself succumb to his fingers so easily. He watched you, deep in thought with your eyes spaced out. His cock throbbed as if reminding him he needed a release too but he didn’t want to scare you. He had a plan, but you had just showed him that he didn’t have to be as rough as he initially thought with you. And he wouldn’t ever admit it but he couldn’t have even if he wanted to, as soon as he interacted with you it was almost as if he needed to handle you with care. Something that he thought wasn’t in his nature, but for you, maybe he’d try.
He felt his confident demeanor waver for a second, an odd feeling. He needed to get away from her and have a moment alone, so with a quick glance, he turned towards the door and practically ran out of the room without speaking to her.
Too busy thinking, you didn’t notice the foreign feelings your captor had just experienced. Only noticing this broad figure leaving the room as if he was late for something. If you weren’t so busy scolding yourself you would have wondered if you had done something wrong to elicit that action from him.
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