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wjhik · 4 months

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Any More? (Virgil Van Dijk) *Smut*

A/N: we need more big virg writers because this is criminal

based on:

7:40-8:05

youtube

Y/N’s POV:

“So, any more kids on the way?” My aunt asks me. Virgil and I are visiting my family at my mom's house, and, as per usual, my auntie is interrogating me. “Auntie, I just had a baby a year and a half ago. No harm in taking a break.” I say, juggling our youngest daughter in my arms while reaching for her pacifier. “Don’t you want to try for a boy?” I roll my eyes at that comment. Virgil and I are more than happy with our 3 girls. I simply shrug at her, attempting to ignore her old ways. “Wouldn’t you love a boy to carry on your legacy, Virgil?”, referring to his football career. I look at Virgil, waiting for his answer. “Anything my sons could do, my daughters can as well.” He calmly explains, quickly shutting down her bogus remarks.

↭

“Kids, come on. We have to go.” I say to my two older girls. “No, mama! Can we stay over? Please??” The oldest begs. “Please, mama. Everyone is staying over with Teta (grandma), can we too??” My secondborn says. I look at Virgil, expecting some backup. “Hey, maybe it’s not such a bad idea. The baby is already asleep, why wake her up?” Virgil says. I look over to my lastborn who is asleep on my mom’s couch. I look up in both frustration and contemplation. “Y/N, they’re more than welcome to stay over.” My mom chimes in. I look down at my daughters looking up at me with pleading eyes. I look to my right to see my husband looking down at me, something behind his eyes that I can’t pinpoint. I look to my left to see my mom playing with the other kids.

“Alright, fine.” I say which is followed by an eruption of screams and cheers from my daughters then followed up by shushing from my husband, pointing to their sleeping younger sister.

↭

“Bye, babygirls. I love you and be good!” I say as Virgil ushers me out of my childhood home. We walk down the driveway as Virgil goes on about his day, upcoming games, his co-captaincy with Trent, etc as I listen. He opens the car door of his Mercedes and helps me in.

“So, first night away from the girls. How do you feel?” Virgil asks me, breaking our comfortable silence. “I’m more nervous for my mom, to be fair. You know how tired we get with 3 girls. Imagine what my mom’s going through with 8 of them.” I joke. “I’m sure she’ll be fine. I mean, she raised you.” Virgil replies. “Yeah, but I was the only girl in my family.” I say. “I’m sure you alone were worse than those 8 girls.” I quickly smack Virgil’s chest with the back of my hand, which was previously resting in his, on my lap. “Hey, I’m driving! That’s a hazard.” I roll my eyes at my far too sassy husband.

↭

“Sweetheart, we’re home.” I hear as I’m shaken awake. “Hmm? Okay, I’m up.” I say groggily. I throw my arms up in a stretch, unknowingly hitting my husband in the face. “Oh, shit. I’m sorry, Virg.” I say, laughing as he rubs his eyes.

“The house feels odd empty and quiet. It’s as if we don’t have 3 ticking time bombs in bed.” I comment, making my way up the stairs with Virgil following close behind. “It’s almost like that’s what it is.” Virgil retorts. I look down at him and stuck my tongue out playfully. I turn my head to look in front before I feel a grab on my ass. I slightly jump as I hear a deep giggle from below me.

↭

Virgil and I are lying in bed together after performing our nightly routines. Virgil has his head in my lap as I sat up and braid his hair, engrossed in the snobby activities of the Dubai Bling cast (best reality show idgaf). “Can you believe Ebrahem? He’s doing way too much.” I comment. (guys i love this show you dont understand. You should all watch it) “Baby?” I heard Virgil say. “Hmm?” I replied. “Let’s do something fun.” He comments. “Hmm? Oh, yeah sure.” I say absentmindedly, focused on my show. Virgil reaches over for the TV remote and turns it off. “HEY!” Virgil is taken aback by my volume and tone of voice. “Sorry, but what the fuck? It was getting so good.” I say. “Did you hear me?” Virgil says. “What did you say?” I ask, taking a sip of my wine. “I said let’s have some fun.” Virgil says suggestively. He sits up and takes the wine out of my hand. He reaches over to my side table and flicks off the lamp, leaving only the recently installed LEDs in our room on. Virgil leans over me and pulls me into a heated kiss. I lowly moan into my husband’s skilled lips. “Hold on.” He says, pulling away.

Virgil reaches around for his phone. He quickly connects it to our built-in and extremely overpriced home sound system he insisted we needed and plays our shared sex playlist which, unfortunately, we haven’t been able to use nearly enough, having to keep quiet due to our daughters.

I look up at my husband who is now on top of me. “Seriously?” I say questioning his choice of music. “What? You like it and you know it.” He says as he leans in to kiss me once again. “Mmh, Virg…” I say in between kisses. “What do you need, mama?” He whispers into my ear. “You.” I whisper back. He gets off me and takes off his shirt and leans back in to kiss me. I run my nails up and down his sides which makes him shiver. Virgil slowly kisses down my chin, onto my neck. He sucks on the sensitive spot behind my ear. “Oh, fuck. Virg…” I mewl, grabbing onto his hair, loosely tied, contrary to his slicked-back look during the day. I feel him release his suction on my neck and give my fresh bruise a light kiss.

Virgil slides himself down my body to where I need him most. He undoes my house robe to reveal me in my panties. He taps my hips, signaling me to lift them up so he can take off my clothes. He comes back up and starts sucking on my nipple, rolling the other in his hand. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful.” He says into me. “Virgil, please. I need you.” I say, my chest heaving. I sit up underneath him, and he gets off me. I pull him to sit on the bed while I get on the carpeted floor, in between his legs. “Can I?” I ask him, pressing on his hard-on through his sweatpants. He lets out a light laugh at me still asking him every single time, without fail, despite all the years together. “Of course, sweetheart.” With his permission, I pull his trousers and underwear down, enough for his dick to spring out at me.

I let out a sigh as I looked at my husband's horse-cock. (lol im so funny) Virgil grabs the back of my head gently and looks down at me. “Well, go on then, love.” He says encouragingly. I slowly sink my mouth onto him as he groans. I try to go as deep as I can without gagging, however it is inevitable. My eyes start watering as I’m slobbering over Virgil's dick. He pulls me off him and holds my chin up. He leans down and kisses me before pushing me down on him. I bob my head on his dick and suck on his tip, earning a hearty moan from Virgil. “Fuck, love, you keep going like that we’re gonna be done real soon.” He says, pulling me up.

I climb up my abnormally big husband and give him a sloppy kiss and move to kiss his neck. He gently grabs my neck and makes me face him. I stare into his eyes, very obviously drunk off his dick. I let out a giggle and kiss him more. He grabs me and places me on the bed and turns me onto my stomach. I hear him ridding himself of his remaining clothes behind me. Before I know it, one of his hands lands on my ass, making me yelp. He laughs and leans down to kiss me. I turn my head back and our lips meet. He pulls away and opens the drawer next to our bed. He pulls out a bottle of lube we often use when having sex and squeezes it in his hand. He strokes his dick with it, getting it wet. Then, squeezes some directly onto me, knowing that I like how it feels against me. I hiss at the feeling. “Mmm, it’s cold…” I say. “I know, baby.” Virgil says, lining himself up with me.

He pushes into me as I let my head drop into the pillow. “Mmm, Fucckkk…” Virgil moans. “You’re so big, Virgil.” I say, clinging onto my husband’s arm, which is propping him up. “Can I-” I quickly interrupt him. “Yes, please. Please fuck me.” He lets out a laugh. “Always so needy for me.” He starts thrusting in and out at a brutal pace. I let out all sorts of erotic noises before I put my hand over my mouth to silence myself. Virgil quickly notices this. “Hey, I wanna hear all those pretty noises. There’s no girls, you don’t have to be quiet.” He reminds me. I remove my hand from my mouth and let myself feel good.

“Fuck, Virg- I’m gonna cum..” I say, my voice shaking as he pounds into me. “Hmm, already?” He teases. “Viirrrgg!” I half moan half yell. “I’m just kidding. Cum for me, sweetheart. I wanna feel you around me.” He encourages me through my orgasm. “Fuck, I’m close too, baby.” He says, as he relentlessly fucks me, searching for his high. Just as I feel him beginning to spasm, something hits me. “Wait, Virgil. Pull ou-” But I was too late. Virgil fucked me down from his high. He collapsed into my back. “Virg, get off. I can’t breathe.” I laugh.

↭

Virgil is resting on my chest after he cleaned us up. “Hey, maybe your aunt is right. Another wouldn’t hurt.” He says. “Oh, so that was your ulterior motive.” I say disappointedly. “Virgil pokes me in my side, knowing I’m not serious. “I’m just kidding. I would love to have another baby with you.”

A/N: always happy with domestic smuts 😋😋

#virgil van dijk #virgil van dijk blurb #virgil van dijk imagine #virgil van dijk fanfic #virgil van dijk smut #virgil van dijk x reader #virgil van dijk x y/n #Youtube

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hamsterclaw · 1 year

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Trust

Taehyung and you find that old sins cast long shadows.

The final part of the 7 hours series.

Pairing: Taehyung x F! reader

Rating: 18+

Genre: Smut, angst

Word count: 4.2k

Warnings: Explicit sex, explicit language, lactation kink, past infidelity

Present day

You’ve just got in the door and slipped off your shoes when you hear the key in the lock.

The front door behind you opens, and you turn to see your beautiful, besuited husband.

He’s alone.

A sick sort of panic blooms in your chest.

‘Tae,’ you say, urgently, ‘where’s Jiwon?’

Taehyung, fast as ever, grabs your arm. ‘Come on, let’s go.’

You follow your husband down the stairs in a panicked half jog, trying to calm yourself.

Jiwon is your 8 month old son, he’s been in nursery all day, and Taehyung was meant to collect him and take him home.

‘Call them,’ Taehyung says, tersely, as he ushers you into the car and starts the engine.

The time on the dash says 6.15pm, and the nursery closes at 6pm.

You’re trying to work your phone when you realise it’s switched off.

‘No battery,’ you say.

The worry in your voice has Taehyung glancing over at you.

‘It’ll be fine, baby, don’t worry I’ll get us there as soon as I can, ok?’

He tosses his phone, unlocked, at you, and you scroll through, quickly, to get to the nursery’s number.

Taehyung’s phone lights up as you’re scrolling, a message that has your heart nosediving into the pit of your stomach.

No time for that now.

You swipe the message away and call the nursery.

Thank god, the keyworker who answers assures you that Jiwon is fine, and they’ll wait for you.

You end the call and put Taehyung’s phone in the cupholder between you, carefully like it’s made of the finest china. Like you’re worried you’re going to break it.

It’s you who feels shattered into a million pieces.

The message you’d swiped away had been from Hana.

Hana, your husband’s ex- assistant, the woman he’d cheated on you with.

It’s been three years, and yet seeing her name on his phone makes it feel like you never really escaped your past at all.

***

Jiwon’s sleeping in your arms, freshly bathed, lips pursed sweetly. You sniff his head, inhaling his scent.

He’s a gorgeous baby, all chunky folds and soft skin, and eyes that are the exact same shape as your husband’s.

He’s perfect, and if your marriage with Taehyung broke down again you’d still be forever grateful for it because of Jiwon.

You lay him in his cot gently. He snuffles a little, shifts onto his side and sighs.

And now it’s just you, alone with your thoughts.

You know you have to face them, you have to speak to Tae, but you’re terrified of what he’ll say.

Worse, you’re terrified you’ll never trust him again.

So you lay your head on Jiwon’s cot, face pressed to his tiny foot, and breathe him in because he’s the only thing right in your world right now.

***

You’re awakened by Taehyung’s arms around you.

‘Baby, come to bed,’ he says, deep voice husky, affectionate.

You’re halfway down the hallway with him when it all comes back to you with a jolt.

You feel sick.

‘Need the bathroom,’ you mumble to Taehyung.

You stumble into the ensuite, barely getting the door closed behind you before you drop to your knees and retch into the toilet.

Your stomach is empty, nothing comes up but bile.

You’re breathing slow, trying to work through the nausea, when you hear Taehyung’s voice at the door.

‘Hey, are you ok?’

He’s trying the handle, you’d locked the door.

‘I’m fine,’ you call through the door.

Maybe if you say it enough times you’ll convince yourself.

***

Taehyung’s pacing outside the bathroom when you come out, face creased with concern.

It’s not the way you would have wanted to confront him but the words come out because in recent years you’ve learned to ask for what you want.

‘Why is Hana texting you, Tae?’

His mouth opens, and you can see him cycling through sentences in his head, trying to find the words to manage the situation.

It’s you. You’re the situation, when you should just be his goddamn wife, the fucking love of his life, the mother of his child.

‘She wanted to know if I could help her find a job,’ he says.

‘Are you going to help?’

‘I told her to contact Sang-cheol,’ Taehyung tells you.

You search his face.

He’s a beautiful man, your husband, he still stops your heart and takes your breath away.

He’s reaching for you now, but you hold up your hands.

‘Are you lying to me, Tae?’

‘I’ll show you the messages,’ he says, ‘here.’

He holds out his phone to you.

You stare at it.

‘I can’t spend my life checking up on you,’ you say quietly.

Taehyung’s stepping closer, trying to hold you.

‘I swear to you,’ he says, serious, soft. ‘I’m not going to make that mistake ever again.’

And now here you are, at another fork in the road you didn’t see coming.

The marathon you walked with Taehyung three years ago flashes into your head. You’d made the choice then, to try to move forward together, because although your husband is annoying and infuriating and impulsive and impractical, he’s never been a liar.

He’s always told you the truth, even when it wasn’t what you wanted to hear.

Hasn’t he?

***

Ten years earlier

You’re so fucking gorgeous that Taehyung’s constantly half-hard looking at you.

Maybe more than half-hard right now, partly because of the frankly indecently short dress you have on, but mostly because he’s on his way to the registry office with you.

In an hour and change, you’ll be his wife, and Taehyung can’t quite believe how lucky he is.

You’re looking at him from across the limo you rented, one big expense in your otherwise low-key, quiet wedding. The gleam in your eyes makes Taehyung want to pull you on top of him and kiss you senseless.

‘Hey, c’mere,’ he says, lips curling in that smirk you seem to like a lot on his face.

‘Yeah?’ you ask.

Taehyung openly eyes your legs, admiring the length of them from your outrageously high heels to your beautiful thighs, to the glimpse of white panties you’re showing him on purpose.

‘Yeah,’ he murmurs.

He spreads his legs, gesturing between them.

‘Come sit,’ he invites.

You clamber into his lap, all legs and breathless giddiness and the smell of your shampoo.

‘Gonna put my cum right here, ok?’ he tells you, fingers, hooking into the fabric of your panties between your legs, knuckles nudging your cunt.

‘Inside?’ you ask, like you don’t already know.

‘Inside,’ Taehyung agrees.

He unzips, draws his cock out, gives himself a pump, hissing as you tug your panties to one side, spread on top of him.

He traces a finger over your clit, and somehow he does it even better than when you do it. Maybe it’s the smirk on his face, the way his dark eyes look to you for your reaction, like hearing you cry out isn’t enough for him.

He pushes two fingers into you, and the sound of your slickness makes your face heat.

‘Why so shy, baby? I love that you get so wet for me,’ Taehyung taunts, voice husky, mouth pressed to your ear.

‘Just fuck me, Tae,’ you plead.

‘And then marry you?’ he asks.

‘Just the fucking is fine,’ you say, rude.

Taehyung laughs, and his mouth is still so close to your ear you shiver helplessly.

He pull his fingers out of you, and you’ve barely registered the loss before his cock is nudging into you, and then he’s all the way in.

You’ve fucked so many times the feeling of him inside you is more familiar than not, but it thrills you every single time.

You think you could fuck him forever.

Taehyung’s big hands grip your hips as you start to move on top of him, stopping you.

‘Tae!’ you protest.

‘Nah,’ he says, ‘I asked you a question, baby, and I didn’t fucking like your attitude when you answered me.’

‘Tough,’ you mutter.

You clench your cunt around his cock in the way you know he loves, and your unpredictable husband-to-be barely blinks.

Buildings flash by you as you lock eyes. You’re nearly at the registry office, and you know Taehyung’s stubborn enough to leave you wet and frustrated.

You also know that if you ask him to get you off, your beautiful fiance will do anything it takes. He’s good for it. He always has been.

So you cup his face, and press a sweet kiss to his firm lips.

‘Help me, Tae, I want to cum for you.’

He groans, already helping you move.

‘Anything, my love,’ he promises, kissing your neck.

He moves deliberately, every thrust precise, controlled, not because he gives a fuck about time pressure but he knows you well enough to know that you do.

‘There, baby,’ he grunts, flexing inside you. ‘Take it.’

His hand scoops under the neckline of your dress to cup your breast, thumb rubbing your nipple.

You’re still cumming when the limo stops. Taehyung grips your hip, hard enough to bruise, as he thrusts up into you again.

‘Come on, cum and then let’s get married,’ you say.

Taehyung smiles wickedly at you. ‘I’ve already cum, love. Don’t make a mess, your dress is pretty.’

‘It’s short,’ you say, worried, tugging down your skirt.

Taehyung just laughs as he gets out of the limo.

He turns, holds out his hand to you.

‘Let’s get married, and then we can do this for the rest of our lives,’ he says.

The sun outside the registry office is blinding, but not as blinding as your gorgeous husband in his vintage suit, his hair ruffled from your fingers through it, the smile on his face that you’ve always found irresistible.

You take his hand.

It’s only when you develop the pictures from your ceremony after that you notice the hickey Taehyung had deliberately left on your neck.

You still laugh about it.

***

Present day

Taehyung looks at you over the dining table.

Things haven’t been right between you since you confronted him about Hana’s text, and he doesn’t know how to make them right.

He pushes the plate of beef slices between you closer to you.

‘You should eat more,’ he says.

‘It’s good,’ you say.

There’s a divide between you now, and Taehyung’s worried that if he lets it, it’ll build until it becomes the chasm it was when you separated.

He can’t lose you, and Jiwon, not now.

His old sins have cast shadows so long he doesn’t know how to escape them.

Taehyung realises you’re looking at him.

Your words, when they come, hurt unexpectedly not because of what they are, but because of the way you sound underneath it all.

Uncertain.

‘Are you lying to me, Tae?’ you ask.

‘I’m not,’ he says, coming around the table to kneel at your feet, clasping your hand.

You cup his face, and he’s reminded of when you fucked in the limo on the way to your wedding ceremony, all those years ago.

And just like then, he’s ready to promise you the world.

‘I’m not lying,’ he says, looking up at you.

You stare at him, and he has no idea what’s going on in your head, only that he can’t stand the sadness in your eyes.

‘This dick is only yours, baby,’ he says.

Your snort of laughter makes his heart sing.

‘I don’t want it,’ you say, pushing his hands away, getting up.

Taehyung follows you into the living room, admiring the curve of your ass in the silky shorts you’re wearing.

‘It wants you,’ he tells you.

‘Tough,’ you say, dropping onto the couch.

Taehyung’s eyes drop, like they often do these days, to your breasts.

You’re still nursing Jiwon, and fuck, he’s obsessed.

At this point he could write a whole fucking speech about your tits, how gorgeously rounded they are, how they get all full when Jiwon sleeps through the night, how they look when they’re leaking milk.

Fuck, even the nursing bras you wear are strangely erotic, how they’re designed for access to your breasts.

He’s got off in the shower more than once to the image of milk dribbling from your nipples the last time you fucked, how you’d clasped your hands over your tits like he wouldn’t want to see.

Like it would turn him off when fuck, he’d cum so hard looking at your glorious tits he’d almost passed out.

He’s hard now, and the wary look you’re giving him shows him you’ve noticed.

‘No,’ you say, clearly, pre-emptively.

‘Can I jack off on your tits?’ he asks, hopeful.

You wrinkle your nose. ‘All over your son’s food?’

Taehyung doesn’t know whether to cry or laugh. ‘I’ll run you a bath after, you can wash it off.’

‘No.’

Taehyung sits next to you on the couch.

He doesn’t miss how you’re eyeing his cock, tenting his loose sweatpants.

He flexes. ‘He says hi,’ he tells you.

You laugh again. ‘Why do you act like we’re still at uni, Tae Tae?’

His chest blooms with warmth at the nickname.

‘I love your tits,’ he declares, in case you need to hear him say it.

‘Oh my god, shut up,’ you say, rolling your eyes.

‘And you too,’ Taehyung amends.

There’s a pause, then you say, very quietly, ‘do you?’

‘Always,’ Taehyung vows.

‘Still not gonna fuck you,’ you mumble, curling into his chest.

‘I can wait,’ Taehyung tells you.

***

Ten years earlier

Taehyung wakes to a darkened, unfamiliar room.

It’s palatial, the Presidential suite in the fanciest hotel downtown, money you don’t have but you spent anyway because, as you told him, you’re only planning on marrying him once and your next husband’s gonna be loaded.

Taehyung loves you so much sometimes it makes him feel restless.

He wishes he were the type of man who could be happy watching you sleep, admire the line of your bare back, the curve of your naked ass under the crisp sheets, your hair in your pretty face.

But Taehyung’s always loved you more than how you look. He loves the essence of you, your irreverent humour, your irrational hangups, your fierce independence.

The way you need him even though you lie and pretend you don’t.

Taehyung loves the way you need him because it makes him feel less alone in the way he needs you too.

You make him laugh, you bring him to tears, and his love for you burns bright like a lifeline in the fabric of his life.

You turn over, and his gaze falls to the hickey he deliberately sucked into the skin of your neck in the limo yesterday, because it wasn’t enough that you were going to marry him, and take his name, he wanted to mark you as his.

It’s dumb, he knows that, but the hickey on your beautiful neck makes his cock stir.

‘Hey,’ he says.

You open your eyes, and smile.

‘The tub, the bed, or the long ass sofa?’ you ask.

Taehyung tilts his head.

You reach out, and stroke his skin.

‘Where do you want to have sex first, husband? The tub, the bed, or the long ass sofa?’ There’s laughter in your voice, and a gleam in your eye that makes Taehyung feel a little desperate, if he’s being honest.

‘Bed first,’ he says.

‘Good choice,’ you murmur, spreading your legs so he can fit between them.

‘We have all day,’ you remind him, breathless as he kisses down your neck.

‘We have always,’ Taehyung says.

You still, and then you look up at him. Like this, under him, you’re so soft it’s irresistible.

Taehyung lowers his lips to yours. ‘I’ll love you, always,’ he tells you.

‘Even if I ——‘

‘Shut up,’ he says. ‘Don’t ruin it.’

***

Present day

Taehyung loves Jiwon’s chubby hands, his chubby feet that are somehow always warm.

Jiwon babbles in his highchair, a contraption you’d sourced that clamps onto the kitchen counter, and bangs his spoon on the counter.

Taehyung chuckles at the outraged look on his face when he tries to eat a spoonful of mashed carrot and it goes onto his cheek instead.

Jiwon is his son, but his personality is all you.

‘Don’t look at me,’ he teases, ‘you’re the one who wouldn’t let go the spoon. How am I supposed to feed you?’

Jiwon eyes him, and in that moment he looks so much like you it takes Taehyung’s breath away.

‘Here,’ he says, holding out his hand.

Jiwon bangs the spoon into his outstretched palm.

Taehyung’s lifting the carrots to his mouth when you appear in the kitchen.

‘Hey baby,’ you coo, face scrunched, eyes crinkled at Jiwon. You plant a kiss on Jiwon’s head and turn just in time to see Taehyung gaping at you.

He closes his mouth.

‘You’re beautiful,’ Taehyung says.

You tug at the low square neck of your dress, self-conscious. You’ve dressed up for a social media event with Joan, your boss.

‘Thank you,’ you say. ‘It’s not too tight?’

‘Your tits are busting out of it,’ Taehyung sighs, a little dreamily.

‘Should I change?’

‘What? No, fuck, you look incredible.’

Taehyung gets up and pulls you into his arms.

‘You look stunning. Where’s your wedding ring?’

‘You could always put a hickey on my neck again.’

‘Yeah,’ Taehyung agrees. ‘Can I put one on your left tit? Over your heart and all.’

You’re laughing now, but you stop when you realise he’s genuinely waiting for an answer.

‘Maybe later,’ you say.

You sidestep neatly as Jiwon hurls a blob of carrots in your direction.

‘See you later Tae.’

‘Call me if you want me to pick you up,’ Taehyung says.

***

You’re unbuckling your shoes at the front door, trying to be quiet so you don’t wake everyone up.

When you get into the bedroom Taehyung’s a lump under the covers.

He turns sleepily in bed.

‘All ok?’ he asks, voice deep and low.

‘Yeah,’ you say.

‘Let me help,’ he says, getting up to unzip your dress.

Taehyung’s behind you, helping you slide your dress over your shoulders.

He lays his chin on the shoulder he’s just bared, and one hand comes up to stroke over your tits.

You hiss. ‘Gentle,’ you murmur. ‘They hurt.’

‘They look like they’re gonna explode,’ Taehyung observes.

‘I need to pump,’ you say.

You glance at the baby monitor, where Jiwon’s fast asleep.

Taehyung’s quiet a moment.

‘Can I?’ he asks.

He pushes you into the armchair by the bed, kneeling between your legs.

He licks over the upper curve of your aching breasts, and you hold your breath, wondering where he’s going with this.

You know Taehyung’s been fascinated with your breasts since you had Jiwon, he’s been open about it, but you don’t know how you feel about it.

‘Tae?’ you ask.

Taehyung’s warm hand lands on yours.

‘I’ll stop if you tell me to, love.’

He waits until you relax back into the chair to tug a strap off your shoulder, exposing your left breast.

You follow his gaze. Taehyung shudders at the sight of you, nipple peaked and full. He flicks his eyes to yours, then lowers his lips to your nipple.

The sound you let out when he swirls his tongue over you surprises you.

He sucks, and you squeeze his hand. ‘Does it hurt?’

You find your voice.

‘It doesn’t but if you want to help you’ll have to use your bottom lip.’

Taehyung huffs out a breath. ‘I’m so hard,’ he tells you.

Then he’s back on your breast, working his jaw this time.

You whimper as milk starts to let down from your breasts.

Taehyung groans, and closes his eyes, throat working as he swallows.

You’d been worried about this, worried it would put you off nursing Jiwon, but it’s completely different.

Your husband seems to think so too, judging by the outline of his hardness in his sweatpants.

He pulls off your breast with a pop, big hand coming up to squeeze, lips milky.

‘The other one? Does it hurt too?’ he asks.

He swirls his tongue over your nipple, and you moan.

This time, he keeps one hand splayed over your back, and the other hand moves between your legs.

You don’t realise how wet you’ve become until he groans, long and loud.

He slips his fingers into you, thumb stroking your clit.

He grunts as he fingers you, arm flexing, fingers curling. He laps at the milk streaming from your breasts, and you stifle a moan.

‘Tae,’ you say, urgent, trying to press your thighs together. It’s too much, the familiar pleasure of your husband’s hand between your legs, and the way he’s sucking at your breasts the way you used to love before you had Jiwon.

Taehyung reads your body like he always has, and his lips gentle on your abused nipple. Then he licks up a trail of milk that’s streamed down your body, scissors his fingers inside you and you cum, gushing all over his hand.

‘Fuck,’ Taehyung groans. His hand doesn’t stop working until he’s wrung every last bit of pleasure out of you and you slump against the back of the chair, spent.

You squeeze the hand between your legs. ‘Let me —‘

Taehyung’s smile is devastating, lazy. ‘You don’t need to take care of me, love,’ he says.

Your gaze follows his to the dark stain on the front of his grey sweats.

‘Yeah,’ Taehyung says. He laughs. ‘I came in my pants. Shit, that was so hot.’

‘You weren’t kidding about that lactation thing, huh,’ you say, affectionate.

Taehyung shrugs. ‘I love your body, I love your tits, and you were all sore and full of milk.’

He leans his head down to lick at your nipples, and you whimper at how sensitive you feel.

‘Let’s get cleaned up,’ he says.

You’re freshly showered and back in bed with Taehyung when he turns to you.

‘Do you believe me?’ he asks, his voice clear in the darkness.

You’ve always loved the tone of his voice.

‘I believe you, Tae.’

‘I wouldn’t hurt you and Jiwon like that,’ he says.

You’re on your back, still as Taehyung moves on top of you.

His hardness presses against your centre, you can almost feel the warmth of him against the two flimsy layers of fabric between you.

‘Again, Tae?’ You want to sound nonchalant about it, but you need him as much as he seems to need you.

‘Again,’ he says, firm.

You and Tae have always done your best communicating with your bodies, and as he kisses you reverently and enters you again, you can feel how much he loves you.

He tells you with each press of his lips to yours, with each thrust, with the way he touches you even when he’s pinning you down and holding your wrists together above your head.

Taehyung loves you.

This much you know.

***

Some time in the future

You’re straightening your dress, looking in the mirror, when Taehyung comes up behind you, wrapping an arm around your waist.

‘Jihye’s sent a message on the group,’ he says, rolling his eyes. ‘She’s at the restaurant. We should get going.’

You smile at the mention of your headstrong, fiercely independent daughter. Taehyung often says she’s like you.

He says Jiwon is like you too, your firstborn who’s grown into the spitting image of your beautiful husband.

You’re glad there’s something of you in both your kids, especially since they seem to have inherited all of Taehyung’s best physical features.

It’s Taehyung’s birthday today, and you’ve managed to arrange a family dinner, trickier now that Jiwon’s working for a law firm in another city and Jihye’s at university.

Taehyung nuzzles your neck.

‘No hickeys,’ you warn.

Taehyung just laughs. ‘They’ll find the wedding photos after we’re gone,’ he says, reasonably.

‘Well if I go first, you’ll have to explain it.’

Taehyung shrugs. ‘They know we have sex, we had them both after all.’

‘Just don’t tell them we fucked in the car on the way to the wedding,’ you say, lightly.

Taehyung says, ‘or about the time you left me in a holding cell overnight because you were mad at me?’

You fall silent thinking about how your life’s been full of shared moments, both heady heights and lows.

Taehyung’s made mistakes, you both have, but you’ve also had a lifetime of making things up to each other.

Taehyung pulls you into his arms. He’s older, you both are, but he’s still the man you chose all those years ago.

You have no regrets.

His hand slides over your waist, fingers over your hip. He’s held you like this so many times his handprints must, by now, be imprinted into the very bones of you.

He leans down to kiss you, and it’s as sweet and lovely as it ever was.

‘Hey,’ he says, ‘I’ll love you, always.’

‘I love you Tae Tae,’ you reply.

He helps you on with your coat, locks the door behind you when you leave.

Then he holds out his hand to you. ‘Ready, my love?’

You’re ready.

Author note: It's been a tough old week, and I drew comfort from writing this couple. I think this is going to be the final part of the series, and I'm sad because I love them so much. If you've read this far, thanks for being a part of this, and I hope you've enjoyed their story.

©hamsterclaw 2022

#taehyung smut #taehyung x reader #7 hours au

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lightupthemoon · 2 years

Text

The Effect You Got On Me: From The Vault (No. 10)

No. 10: it's gonna take me a minute but I could get used to this

No. 1 // No. 2 // No. 3 // No. 4 // No. 5 // No. 6 // No. 7 // No. 8 // No. 9

Summary: You get a call after missing Kate's competition. Drabble collection based on the events of The Effect You Got On Me.

Pairing: Kate Bishop x Reader.

Song: Used to This by Camila Cabello.

Warnings: Fluff. However, 18+ for previous parts, minors DNI.

Word count: 1.7 K

Read on AO3 // PLAYLIST

Author's Note: WE ARE FINALLY HERE. The end of my TEYGOM era. Thank you all so much for the comments, likes, and reblogs on both this little project and the main story, I am so very happy you enjoyed it as much as I did writing it. This one is a different version of the apology in Part 5, which I only changed bc I wanted to add spice. Enjoy!

You hated missing Kate’s competition. The anger you felt had morphed into aching, a feeling so big you couldn’t ignore it even if you tried. You wanted to be there for her, with her, but the idea of showing up unnerved you, especially not knowing where you stood with Kate anymore. You weren’t exactly sure how it’d feel if Kate saw you there in the stands, cheering for her, and she didn’t even glance your way. The last few weeks had been painful enough to last you a lifetime– you didn’t want to find out.

Nevertheless, you couldn’t sit still in your room. Your phone had been off for a couple of days to avoid Peter’s insistence on fixing the situation so things could go back to normal, and without any distractions, being within the four walls of your dorm room drove you insane. You decided the safest place to be was your hideout, that old diner off-campus that you loved so much, bringing a small mountain of assignments with you to kill the time and keep your mind off the competition. After spending most of your college years visiting the place, the owner knew and liked you, letting you stay there all day without hesitation. He asked about Kate, wondering why she hadn't come in with you for a while, but you only smiled and said she was busy. It was all you could manage to say without feeling like crying.

You half ate your burger and nibbled at your fries, finishing your chocolate milkshake with a loud slurp. You weren’t exactly a fan of chocolate milkshakes, but Kate loved them. It was all you had left. You set the empty glass aside, staring out of the window. The sun was coming down, which meant the competition was probably over. In one last attempt to convince you to show up America had mentioned that the group intended to have dinner at Yelena's to celebrate, and you hated how game night and celebrations with your friends were now out of your reach.

You sighed loudly, shaking the thought from your mind, your gaze falling on the old clock at the far end of the diner. It was just past 7:35 PM. Your friends should be well on their way to Yelena’s, celebrating Kate’s latest first place. You pulled your phone out of the backpack sitting next to you on the booth, turning it on. It immediately started chirping with missing phone calls and texts appearing on your screen, most from Peter and the occasional one from Yelena. You dismissed all of them, not willing to deal with that just yet. You gathered your things, throwing them into your backpack.

Your phone buzzed on the table, and you rolled your eyes, picking up a fry and answering without looking at the screen. “Petey boy, is what you have to tell me so important that you can't wait until tomorrow?"

"I mean, I'm not Peter but it is very important." You almost choked on your fry.

You pulled your phone from your ear, staring in disbelief at the name on the screen.

"Kate?"

“Hi.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat. "You have something to tell me?"

"Yeah. I passed by your dorm but no one answered."

"Yeah, I'm not–ar-are–America said you were going to Yelena's," You stuttered, shutting your eyes, trying to gather your thoughts.

"Yeah, they all are at Yelena's.” You could almost picture her on the other line by the tone of her voice, nervously scratching the back of her neck. “I'll go later, I just needed to see you first."

Your heart raced so fast you were sure it would jump out of your ribcage. "Why?"

"I had a competition and you weren't there."

You sighed, pushing your plate of food a little. "Well, we aren't exactly friends anymore, are we?"

"Oh, no, yeah, we are not friends anymore. I don't think we can be again, to be honest."

"Okay, cool." You blinked, hoping your voice didn't sound as hurt as you felt. "If that's all you had to say, I'll go."

Kate didn't say anything else, and you took her silence as her answer. You ended the call, feeling worse than you did before she called. A shuddering breath escaped you, the corners of your eyes itching a little. You threw the rest of your stuff into your backpack, leaving a few bucks on the table, and walked out of the diner while looking down at your shoes. The summer-like air hit your face as soon as you opened the door, as hot and heavy as the pain in your heart. You couldn’t wait to go back home and sulk, away from everything and anything that reminded you of–

"You gotta start letting me talk, you know."

You snapped your head up so fast your neck hurt at the sound of that voice, your eyes opening wide as saucers. Kate was leaning against the hood of your car with her arms crossed over her chest and her gloves poking out of her pocket, still wearing her archery suit. Her expression was unreadable but your heart still leaped at the sight of her.

You gripped your backpack straps tighter, not daring to walk one more step. “I think you’ve said plenty.”

“No, I haven’t,” Kate exhaled, letting her arms drop to her sides. “At least not the important things, anyway.”

“What is it then, Kate?”

"You weren't there," she responded simply, smoothing her tongue over her lips after she spoke. She closed her eyes, seemingly trying to contain tears from falling but it was useless. When she opened them again, the blue in her eyes seemed glossy. Her voice cracked as she repeated, “I had a competition and you weren’t there.”

You could have sworn you heard your heart shatter inside you at her words, resisting the urge to lean in and wipe the tears off her face. You never wanted to see her like this, to be the reason behind the heaving of her chest as she breathed. You sniffled looking down, unable to hold her gaze.

“Honestly, I didn’t think you wanted to see me.”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you,” Kate muttered, pushing herself off your car and slowly walking towards you. One of her hands grabbed you by the waist, emanating goosebumps with its touch over the fabric of your clothes, pulling you as close to her as she could, almost like she would die if she didn’t have every part of her body touching yours. You felt her chest rising and falling against your own, the calloused fingers of her free hand reaching for your cheek, making you look back into the ocean in her eyes as she pressed her forehead to yours, taking you in. "You were the only one I wanted to see."

Before you could say anything else, her lips found yours in a kiss that felt like a breath of fresh air. Her mouth was soft, eager, and urgent against yours, and for the first time in weeks, you felt complete. She relished in the taste of your lips, so familiar and intoxicating, a welcomed reminder of why she had fallen for you in the first place. A small whimper escaped you, your hands falling to rest on her hips, your mouths savoring every second of the passionate kiss as if it were your last. You resented your lungs for needing air, drawing back as slowly as you could, and she chased after your lips as if the mere idea of not kissing you was unfathomable to her. Your heart was beating in your ears, your mouths ghosting over one another as you breathed each other in, the tension in the air so thick you felt if any of you spoke the magic would disappear. She pressed another kiss to your lips, achingly sweet this time, the back of her thumb caressing your cheek as she did so.

Finally, she licked her lips, and said, "I'm sorry. I’m so sorry. I never wanted to hurt you. I just started having all these feelings I never had before and it freaked me out. I didn’t know what to do so I ran away. But my days without you have been hell and I need you to know that it was never just sex. You mean so much more to me. I think you always have and I just didn’t see it.” Kate sighed, her hold on your waist tightening. “But I see it now. You’re my favorite person in the world. I know I’m not Sharon, and we don’t have the history you have with her, and I don’t know what I’m doing but I need you to know that I want you, and only you. I've never wanted anything as badly as I want you."

You saw the fear in her eyes at her confession. You brought your hands to her face, stroking her cheeks with the back of your thumbs in an attempt to soothe her, a soft smile inevitably drawing on your lips. Kate leaned into your touch, waiting for you to speak.

"Why didn't you just say that?" You muttered softly. "We could have avoided a lot of things."

"I was scared. I still am," Kate responded in a small voice. "It's so scary to feel this way."

You pressed your forehead to hers, a small chuckle escaping your throat. "I'm scared, too, Katie," You admitted. "But I have also never felt this way before, and I don't mind being scared as long as I get to be with you."

You saw the moment of realization hit Kate like a truck, immediately trapping your lips in another kiss with the ghost of a teary smile on the corners of her mouth. You giggled, wrapping your arms around her neck and getting lost in her essence, a new feeling brewing within you that felt a whole lot like peace.

She pulled away with that beautiful grin of hers you loved so much. “Does that mean you have feelings for me, too?”

You rolled your eyes goodnaturedly, matching her smile. “Yes it does, you idiot.”

She circled her arms around you, making you squeal as she lifted you from the ground and spun you around, laughter bubbling out of the both of you while you held onto her neck for dear life. When she put you down, she wrapped you in a tight hug, one that made every sorrow you carried in your heart disappear instantly.

TAGLIST: @sunshadesnrainbowz @imlike-so-gaydude @hopingforromanoff @ittynyte @girlssnrosess @assgardangod @musicinourlips @youralphawolf72

#kate bishop x you #kate bishop x female reader #kate bishop x reader #kate bishop x y/n #kate bishop fluff #hawkeye series #marvel fanfiction #hailee steinfeld x reader #writing #the effect you got on me #kate bishop smut

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dairy-farmer · 1 month

Note

I sent the boarding school Tim ask lmao (tbh I almost wanna list all the asks I've made that you've so graciously and beautifully answered, but that's for a different ask lmao)

It's funny bc after I sent it I realized there were some pieces missing that I wanted to add, so this kind of works in my favor! I'll try my best to recreate it:

The idea was Tim being knocked up and slutting around his boarding school, but I originally intended for it to start in a different, more innocent way.

His boarding school is an uppity, high class one, and it's grades k-12. So when Tim starts attending at 8, he becomes familiar enough with it. He's a normal student, flies under the radar, and there isn't anything that stands out about him. The only weird thing about Tim is his obsession with the bats

The summer Tim turns 12, he runs into Jason Todd one night and they become... close. They're normal friends for about a week before Jason initiates making out. Within two weeks of hanging out, Tim has popped all of his cherries. He's given a blowjob, a handjob, had his ass fucked but above all else, he's had his pussy pounded to a pulp, his little womb filled full to bursting with 15 year old Jason's cum. They don't realize Tim is pregnant until after he's gone back to boarding school in September, and Tim has no idea how far along he is. He could have gotten pregnant at any point during the summer. But then Jason dies and Tim is so sad, never having gotten the chance to tell him about the baby Tim is pregnant with.

This happens around the time he starts showing, so rumors spread that Tim is a dumb slut. And without Jason, knowing his Robin is dead, Tim decides what's the harm in feeding into that? The student body thinks he's a slut? He'll show them a slut.

So he goes around and sleeps with his peers, starting with those his age, letting most of the boys in his class lose their virginity in his tight, pregnant pussy. Then he starts propositioning older boys, and before long, he has the juniors and seniors spitroasting him in his bedroom when he's 8 months pregnant. The timing of his pregnancy works out that he gives birth to his and Jason's baby a week after he goes home for summer vacation.

He tries to focus on taking care of his baby, but he can't help how empty he feels, and how much he aches for Jason. So he gets a baby sitter for a few nights a week and goes out and gets knocked up again, right in time for the newest school year to start.

He manages to blackmail/payoff the dean of the school into letting Tim continue attending and bringing his sweet baby along with him (maybe he convinces the dean that Tim's second pregnancy is his, and he'll leak everything to the press unless the dean listens to everything he says). So every school year, like clockwork, Tim swells and swells with a baby and then pops them out, no idea who the father might be (save his firstborn, ofc).

The timing eventually works out that Tim gives birth in April, earlier than usual in the school year. He's gonna be 15 in July and this will be his 4th baby, his other 3 absolutely perfect and thriving. He's healed up from his delivery in time to be marathon fucked by half the school (staff included) the two weeks before the year ends and summer starts. Tim goes home with his toddler, babies, and newborn, already pregnant again, so when he comes back to school the next year, he's already just barely showing, delivering in March, and then pregnant again by the time he and his children return home for the summer.

Maybe Jason eventually comes back and finds Tim and meets their baby? Maybe Bruce catches wind of Tim and his little army of babies who are rumored to all be fathered by strangers (which isn't entirely a lie, but not entirely the truth either) and takes him in out of pity (and then sends him to his final year in boarding school four months along with twins, babies 7 and 8 when Tim is just 17 years old)? Or maybe Tim just stays in the boarding school, constantly pregnant and being fucked full of cum by anyone who will give it to him, and his teachers and peers wonder what kind of fate awaits him after he'll graduate, having been turned into a cumdrunk baby factory.

So many possibilities.

So anyways, tldr; basically Jason's death makes Tim spiral into becoming a constantly pregnant teen slut who spends his every waking moment in boarding school pregnant and lugging around his little brood of babies 🤤🤤🤤

!!!! tim and jason meeting in the summer and starting up with jason teaching tim how to fuck and take a cock. jason loving how willing and eager the little neighbor boy is and making sure to fuck him plenty before he goes back to that crummy boarding school because tim had been unsuccessful in getting his parents to transfer him to jason's school like jason had asked him to do.

tim's firstborn being jason's kid!!!!! tim's latest pregnancy before jason comes back being bruce's kid(s) is soooo good!!!!!!!!!!! the fact that tim was knocked up by both of them because tim was turned into a sweet little baby factory all because jason got him hooked on needing to be full with a baby ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

#answered asks #asks #anonymous

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multi-writer · 2 years

Text

The Broken Hearts Club – Lovers Ending Eddie Munson x reader

The Broken Hearts Club

Friends Ending

A/N: Friends Ending was quicker to finish tbh. As promised, here is the second and alternate ending (Personally this is the real ending but I wanted to do the other one lol).

I think the tags are failing me, could you help me to tell if everything is ok please?

Summary: this time, you decided to look.

Warnings: curses, angst, fluff, sour. To understand this you should read “The Broken Hearts Club” and has a bit of the Friends Ending

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Eddie had never driven so fast as he had that morning that he was surprised that no officer had stopped him to give him a ticket, but that was the last thing on his mind. Desperation coursed through his veins as he reached Robin's house and got out of his car with speed, with clumsy hands he managed to open his car door and ran to the door to ring the doorbell desperately. Receiving no answer he opted to bang on the door until someone opened it.

Minutes later a disheveled Robin opened the door with a frown on her face as she looked at the boy in confusion.

"Dumbass it's 9:13 after graduation night. You better have a good excuse" Robin said as she hid her yawn behind her hand and closed one of her eyes thanks to the daylight.

"I went to her house and couldn't find her, half her room was empty and I don't know who else to turn to" Eddie started to ramble causing Robin to now close both eyes from the shock of words that had hit her. She only held up her hands for the boy to stop. As she looked at him she could notice his rapid breathing and his eyes moving from side to side trying to figure out what was going on.

"What are you talking about?" Robin asked slowly causing Eddie to close his eyes for a moment.

"Robin..." That was the first time Eddie had said her name in years of knowing each other. "Where is (y/n)?" He asked slowly causing Robin to slowly open her eyes as she understood what was going on.

"Shit..." Murmured the girl.

-.-

Eddie returned to his trailer feeling lost, disoriented, not knowing what to think. The boy stayed inside his van for a few minutes to think about everything that had happened in the last few weeks. Robin had told him everything.

'Why didn´t she tell me about Columbia?' was all Eddie could think.

Slowly he got out of his car and with heavy steps walked into his trailer where Wayne was already preparing breakfast, who when he heard the door open slowly turned around while his eyes were still on the stove. When he finally looked at the entrance he found the image of his nephew trying to hold back his tears, Eddie's hands remained at his side as they opened and closed trying to disappear the tension he was feeling at that moment, his body was slightly curled up as if trying to protect his already wounded heart.

Wayne could have sworn that Eddie was back to being an 8 year old boy as he came back in tears because he had fallen. With nothing more to say Wayne set the spatula down on the small bar and opened his arms as Eddie slowly walked over to take refuge in his uncle's arms and try to forget the pain he was going through.

They both stayed like that for a few minutes, surrounded by the summer heat and the smell of burning food. But Wayne didn't care, he only thought about keeping his nephew safe from the cruel reality around him as he had done years ago when Eddie came into his life.

The boy, in tears, was the first to break away so he could wipe his face with both hands, in his chest he could still feel the pressure which did not let him breathe properly.

His best friend was gone.

Now Eddie felt empty, with no motivation to do anything. Remembering again what Robin had said, sadness began to turn to anger. For so many years they had been best friends, why the fuck didn't you tell him you were moving out of Hawkins?! So many ideas began to fill Eddie's mind that the boy had to sit down to keep from falling to the ground at that moment. Wayne, noticing his nephew, turned off the stove which was keeping breakfast burning, and sat down with his nephew to rest his hand on the boy's knee and stare at him.

"Eddie, what's wrong?" asked Wayne even though he already had suspicions as to why his nephew was like this, Eddie ran his hand over his face and then placed it on the table.

"(Y/n) went to Columbia, I...I didn't know anything. Today I tried to look for her and tell her that I love her, now I understand why nobody opened the door of her house, now everything makes sense, but what I don't understand is why she didn't tell me anything? All those years of friendship didn't matter to her?!" Eddie was rambling so fast Wayne only caught a few words.

"She already left?" Wayne asked with some sadness that the girl had not said goodbye to him. Eddie turned so quickly that for a moment he thought he had hurt himself.

"You knew (y/n) was going to Columbia?" the young man asked without hesitation, finally a lot of things were coming out and he couldn't wait any longer. Eddie watched as his uncle let out a sigh and nodded slowly. Another stab crossed Eddie's heart as he learned that Wayne also knew about his best friend's plans. Eddie stood up quickly causing his vision to paint black for a few seconds, slowly regaining the image in front of him. "Why didn't you tell me?!" Wayne put both hands on his knees to slowly get up, age was already taking its toll on him.

"She wanted to be the one to tell you" Wayne moved closer to his nephew as he moved away so his uncle wouldn't touch him. None of this made any sense, if you wanted to tell her the news, why didn't you. Eddie looked toward the trailer door for a few seconds.

"I got news for you, she never told me" Eddie replied with anger radiating from him, Wayne shook his head as he tried to approach Eddie again.

"Of course not, you were just with that girl, with the cheerleader. Even when she came to tell me you weren't" Wayne said defending you and showing his nephew what was really going on. Eddie shook his head.

"No, Chrissy and I weren't always together, at lunch she...she always..." Eddie couldn't complete his sentence as he remembered that Chrissy and he did spend all their time together, he couldn't think of a time when just you and he were alone in the last few weeks. Eddie ran his hand over his forehead as he understood the reasons why you hadn't told him. The boy passed saliva feeling his throat close with difficulty thanks to the knot that was still in it.

"Eddie..." Wayne tried to regain his nephew's attention but he only slowly turned to get up from the chair and walked towards his room, Eddie held up his hand in a sign that he had heard him.

"I just...I want to be alone" Eddie muttered as he walked into his room and closed the door, preventing any trace of light from coming in with him.

-.-

At the beginning of October, the cold wind was beginning to make itself felt in the crazy city of New York, making everyone take out their jackets to show them off among the yellowish and brownish tones of the leaves falling from the trees. By this time you had already been in college for several weeks and with your friends you went to coffee every Friday in an attempt to get to know each other better.

The coffee shop where you were going was nice - homely in your opinion - in the center was a couch that was almost always occupied by another group of friends so you always chose the area next to the window. You had never wanted a hot drink as much as you did at that moment, several books were on the tables in front of you while the music of the place was accompanied by the laughter of your new friends.

Marnie, your roommate, stood in front of you with a cup of tea in her hands to keep them warm. Carol, Marnie's girlfriend, stood next to her listening to John's story as she bit into the muffin she had ordered. John stood next to you as he talked about his childhood in Chicago and his experiences about trying to scare his neighborhood with his friends, his legs crossed and his hands on them as he moved his hands to dramatize his story.

At one point John reminded you a lot of Eddie when he told his stories, always looking to make them more interesting with different tones of voice to give personality to everyone in his stories. But John wasn't Eddie and could never be, your best friend still held your heart and you knew it was going to be hard to let him go.

"Are you listening (y/n)? The best part is coming up" John interrupted your thoughts so you turned to look at him as he stood up to probably act out some scene or memory from his childhood. You nodded to take your coffee with one hand while with the other you signaled him to continue with his story. Your friend smiled and continued to tell his story with excitement making you laugh.

You took a small sip of your coffee which warmed your throat quickly, the yellowish lights of the place managed to relax you, taking away your worries momentarily and the wind was noticeable through the window. As you took another sip you felt something strange in your chest, as if you had to do something.

You turned to see Marnie and she was laughing at something John had said and was still standing, Carol had stood up for a moment, so they couldn't be your friends. You looked around, the cafe was not as crowded as you expected on a cold autumn afternoon but other than that everything was normal. Finally you took a fleeting glance through the window to make sure everything was in order but a dark colored figure caught your eye.

Eddie Munson was standing a few feet away from you.

You looked at him in surprise for a few seconds to make sure it wasn't a creation of your mind that you missed him so much, you blinked a couple of times but Eddie was still there, hands in his pants pockets and hair tousled by the wind. His van was behind him as if it was the only witness of his presence in New York.

You slowly put down your coffee cup as you continued to watch him, your breathing was getting faster by the second and your hands were shaking. You stood up as fast as you could when you saw that Eddie had turned around, your friends looked at you quizzically as you awkwardly got out of your chair and gently pushed John to let you pass. As you left the cafeteria you could feel the cold wind hitting your face making you close your eyes for a moment, when you opened them you noticed that Eddie was getting closer and closer to his car, so you accelerated your steps to catch up with him. You couldn't lose him.

Not again.

"Eddie" you muttered loud enough for him to hear. Slowly Eddie looked up at you, his eyes swept over your face until he ended up looking into your eyes, you could notice the redness in the boy's cheeks and nose thanks to the cold. His shoulders were moving subtly up and down proving to you that he was not dressed warmly for the cold he was facing, wearing only his leather jacket and denim vest.

Behind you you could hear quick footsteps approaching you but you couldn't take your eyes off the boy.

"Eddie, what are you doing here?" out of your mouth came the only thing going through your mind, you approached Eddie while raising a hand but he took a step backwards away from you.

"I...I was just leaving" Eddie said through his teeth. "I didn't mean to upset you" you denied at your best friend's response. A hand landed on your shoulder causing Eddie to look down as if he was in pain. Turning you saw John behind you, with a frown you moved your shoulder to remove the boy's hand.

"Eddie, please" Your best friend started to walk to his car making you follow him to his car, but you were stopped again by John who put his hand now on your arm making you turn to look at him.

"John let me go!" you exclaimed angry at everything that was going on, you were confused and didn't know what to do. Marnie, recognizing Eddie from everything you had told her, walked over to John to pull him by his jacket so he wouldn't interfere with you anymore. Eddie started his car and looked at you one last time.

"Glad to see you're okay (y/n)" He commented with crystal clear eyes through the window and then started the car, driving away from you once more.

-.-

The middle of December was when the terrible cold of Indiana was most noticeable, the colored lights adorned the houses of the town of Hawkins getting ready for Christmas. The streets were covered with a small layer of snow making the place look like a Christmas movie.

Since returning from New York, Eddie didn't talk as much as he used to, his mind was filled with images of you smiling in the cafeteria with that boy, images of your face flushed from the cold when you went out to see him. Even his mind was so cruel to him that it created images of you with the boy behind you. Maybe at this moment you were meeting him somewhere nice in New York while Eddie was thinking about you inside his trailer. The boy couldn't stop thinking about your sparkling eyes as he tried to figure out why he was there.

Eddie also wondered why he had gone.

Robin and the guys from the Hellfire club would visit him from time to time to see how he was doing, to placate and keep Eddie's big imagination off of you. Sometimes Eddie would just nod while smiling at whatever the guys were talking about or just lift his shoulders when Robin asked him something. Even Wayne couldn't get more than 10 words out of Eddie, worrying the man gravely.

The days passed slowly, sometimes Eddie would write in his notebook where he planned new campaigns, but always ended up writing about you, other times he would try to write new songs for Corrored Coffin but still ended up writing about you as he remembered the times they spent together before everything went to shit, even on the nights he smoked he would imagine you next to him, talking about life and laughing out loud and then sleeping together as it should have been from the beginning. His mind, heart and soul longed to be with you.

Today Eddie found himself with a cigarette between his lips while his guitar sat between his legs, repeating over and over again the same melody until he could find the best way to connect it with the lyrics that were written down in front of him. His imagination was so busy that he didn't hear the first knocking on the trailer door, it wasn't until minutes later as the knocking became more and more desperate that he put down his guitar with a groan and stood up making several of his bones thunder from the time he had been sitting.

He left the cigarette in the ashtray next to his bed and slowly walked to the door, his bare feet met the cold floor of the hallway but the feeling was ignored by the knocking that could still be heard at the door.

Eddie, thinking it was the boys looking for news of him, opened the door harshly surprising the person standing in front of it. Before facing reality Eddie ran a hand over his eyes to remove the tiredness from them, when he saw who it was he froze in front of the door.

You were looking at him with your eyes wide with surprise and one hand raised to continue knocking on the door.

You both looked into each other's eyes for a few seconds until a gust of air hit making you cross your arms to shelter a little warmth.

"For a moment there I had forgotten how cold Hawkins was" you smiled for a moment but your best friend was still staring at you as if you were another creation of his imagination wiping away your smile. "May I... may I come in?" your comment elicited a reaction from the boy, who only moved to let you in.

The trailer was just as you remembered it, there were a few more cups on the kitchen table making you smile again. Wayne's love of mugs was something that always brought happiness to you. The smell of cigarette smoke flooded the place bringing back memories with it.

"What are you doing here?" Eddie's hoarse voice startled you making you turn quickly to see him, the boy's gaze shifted from the floor to your eyes and then stayed on the floor.

"I wanted to talk to you, after all we couldn't do that in Columbia" you commented as you crossed your arms as if trying to protect yourself from the inevitable small talk.

"I don't think we have anything to talk about" Eddie commented in a curt manner making you frown.

"Why did you go to Columbia Eddie" Your best friend walked towards his room making you follow him, the boy picked up his guitar to put it back in its place. The room looked messier compared to the last time you saw him. "Eddie, why did you go to the University?" The boy just shrugged his shoulders as if he was a kid.

"I don't know...I just wanted to see if you were okay. If you were happy" He commented quietly as he played with the rings on his fingers and bit his bottom lip slightly in an attempt to not confess anything else. "I wanted to see you."

You just leaned against the wall of his room thinking about what he had said, the tension in the room made you sad, it was as if there was a barrier between the two of you. One that you both had built without thinking about it.

"Why didn't you tell me about Columbia?" Eddie asked as he looked you in the eye. Just like him you only lifted your shoulders then sighed.

"I tried, but I couldn't find the time" You said as you looked at the floor in an attempt to escape his gaze. After minutes of silence you could hear Eddie take a big breath of air.

"I'm in love with you" he blurted out suddenly causing you to look at him in surprise, Eddie was looking everywhere but at you. "I have been for years" his confession left you speechless as a thousand thoughts crossed your mind.

"But...what about Chrissy?" your question made the boy smile.

"She found out about a week after you left. Instead of getting mad she said she should have told you and that I should look you up" Eddie went on without seeing you so he didn't notice the smile that graced your face.

"She was always a good person" You muttered causing Eddie to nod. "Why didn't you tell me sooner" Your best friend took some time to think and then let out a sigh.

"I was afraid, I didn't know if you felt the same way and I didn't want to lose you, besides you deserved someone better than me" He commented as he rested his gaze on his feet and his shoulders were slightly hunched as if he were a child who had been caught in a prank.

You took small steps to get in front of him but Eddie was determined not to see you. Slowly your hand rose to caress Eddie's cheek making him finally turn to look at you, his eyes passed over your face until they stopped on your lips.

"I will always want you Eddie Munson" And when you least thought it your lips were on Eddie's, the boy quickly responded by returning the kiss. Your other hand ran down his neck as Eddie's arms wrapped around your waist making you feel weak in your legs. Your back curved slightly as Eddie's body wrapped around you. The two of you fit together perfectly like two pieces that could finally meet.

Eddie went from kissing you on the lips to leaving small kisses down your cheek to moving down your neck making you move your neck slightly to give him more room, your hands ran through Eddie's tousled hair in an attempt to pull him closer to you.

"I missed you so much" Eddie murmured from the small curve of your neck.

"I missed you more" you replied between sighs as you felt Eddie's small kisses, the boy let out a silent smile.

"Impossible" Eddie replied and then continued kissing softly. From your lips came small sighs which were well received by Eddie's ear making the boy continue kissing your neck and then go up to your face and kiss your lips again in a more desperate way.

Eddie kissed you like a thirsty man who had finally found his oasis, his arms caressing your waist and back as if he was trying to enjoy every moment and not miss a thing. Years of waiting had finally paid off.

They were both lost with each other until a scream separated them only to turn to the entrance and see the door was closing.

"Oh my god my eyes!" Robin's voice could be heard outside Eddie's trailer making you both turn to look at each other in surprise at what was happening and then laugh loudly, still in each other's arms.

"I told you to knock first!" Steve's voice could be heard a little further away but it was easy to make out. "Don't tell me you found them having..."

"No! But almost!" continued Robin as she continued to complain. "Mr. Munson don't go in there!"

"Old man was early" Eddie lifted his hand from your waist to look at his watch as you gave him a light smack on the chest for the name causing Eddie to let out a small laugh. You both walked towards the door to leave, Wayne looked quizzically at Robin as she continued to rub her eyes and Steve sighed at his friend's actions.

Wayne, upon seeing you, smiled as his eyes lit up, you broke away from Eddie to hug his uncle. The man held you in his arms tightly as he rocked you slightly from side to side.

"You're finally came to visit us" Wayne murmured as he looked happily at his nephew who had a small smile on his face, a sight Wayne hadn't seen in months. "Are you going to spend Christmas with us?" He asked as he pulled away from you to look at you.

"Sure! I wouldn't miss it for anything!" You commented making the man smile even wider. When he let you go Robin and Steve came over to hug you while Wayne went to his nephew.

"Is that a smile on your face?" Wayne asked causing Eddie's cheeks to turn slightly red.

"What can I say, I finally feel complete" smiled Eddie as he watched you talk to Robin.

-------------------

Extra:

"Ready?" Eddie asked you as he held an envelope in his hands, you looked at him nervously with your package in hands.

"Ready" you replied. You took a sigh and put your package inside the mailbox, inside was your first piece of writing ready to be sent to a publisher. Eddie left a small kiss on your envelope which contained a cassette of Corrored Coffin songs and let it go with your book inside the mailbox to a producer who had spoken to Eddie a few weeks ago.

Seeing that both packages were secured to be sent Eddie gave you a kiss on the forehead to get your attention.

"We're leaving?" your boyfriend commented as you nodded and then both of you walked to the apartment you shared.

"Are you going to play something for me?" you asked causing the boy to let out a laugh.

"For you? As many songs as you want" Eddie replied as he brought your hand to his lips and left a small kiss on your knuckles.

Your lives were just beginning and you couldn't wait to find out what life had in store for the two of you, together.

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niennandil-me-writes · 1 year

Text

Fragments of a Cybernetic Mind: Chapter 4 - Old Job

Summary Half a year has passed since the events of Christmas of 2064. The world is slowly adjusting to sentient ROMs. But Turing is distracted from their task as ROM-kind's leader and ambassador by another obligation they carry. They want to deliver Leon Dekker’s last words to his daughter. But first, they’ll have to find her, which doesn’t prove easy. They ask their journalist friend for help, who seems less than thrilled.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 (final) Epilogue

CN: car crash, death of a family member

Once again, we spend an afternoon sitting together on the couch, music playing over my sound system (sponsored by GX Ultra), cookies and hot beverages on the low table in front of us, as we work our way through the data. According to TOMCAT, about 10% of the data has been looked through, and about 60% of the damaged files repaired as best as possible. I get the sense they are making up these numbers for a sense of accomplishment. It’s working.

I’ve become more comfortable with the subject matter and for a week now have moved from approaching the memories via text only to playing videos on my laptop’s screen, muted and in a small window to keep some distance between us. I’m still sticking with the pre-death memories. In a way, it feels farther removed, not just chronologically, but emotionally. I never knew Wilson Dekker. It’s easier looking through his eyes than Leon’s.

It is depressing as well. As much as I am trying to prevent it, I am getting to know him. His daily life. His hopes and dreams, his goals in life. His family. Most of the memories of his wife are scrambled, so I can only look at the text. No images. Which makes the investigation more difficult, but my work easier. I don’t know what I’d feel if she had a face.

Already, sometimes the blank data becomes a real person, and I feel an intruder in a life that should have nothing to do with mine, and then I close the video and look at another text file, staring at the lines until he disappears behind the blank lines of data again. I had to take a break half an hour ago, when I found the memory of his wife telling him she’s pregnant. It’s dated a month before his last one.

Now I’m still on this break, sitting on my balcony, trying to muster the energy to start on my work again, a high-caffeine Hassy in my hands. I’ve not been sleeping well lately. It’s the stress. The pages of my manuscript stay empty. My publisher is getting impatient.

And as much as the percentages TOMCAT gives us sound satisfying, we don’t seem to be making any headway. The truth is that we’d need way more hands on this project to sift through all the available data, if we really want to get anything done. At the moment, we’re working at a snail’s pace.

Turing suggested getting Lexi in on it, but I doubt she’d be game. She helped Turing retrieve the disks, but what we are doing is basically messing with evidence, even though nobody seems to care much. Besides, Dekker attacked her too, and I doubt she’d be eager to help him posthumously sort out his family business. She’s unsentimental like that.

I hear the balcony door open behind me. Turning my head, I see Turing, walking to the guardrail and standing on their tiptoes to look out at the silhouettes of Neo-SF in front of the setting sun. It’s beautiful, if your eyes aren’t tearing from exhaustion.

“How’s it coming along?” I ask for lack of a better conversation starter.

“I think we are on a good way here,” they answer without taking their sensors of the landscape. No doubt memorizing it as inspiration for another abstract painting. “TOMCAT says we have sighted about 23% of the most promising data.”

“A non-round number this time, wow,” I say. I stand up from my chair and stand beside them. “Turing, I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“I am all ears. Metaphorically that is. Hayden neglected to add that particular accessory to my body. I think he wanted to go for a more minimalist design. I’m all audio sensors.”

“We’ve been looking through the data for a while now,” I start.

“I assure you, I am well aware we might not find any hints in the memories,” Turing interrupts me. “And I am fully able to accept that outcome.”

“That’s not what I wanted to talk about. Though it’s good you mention that.” I hesitate. “Turing, if we find her, what will you tell her?”

“Mr. Dekker specifically said he wanted to apologize to his daughter,” they explain.

“Yes, and he also said his wife told her he’s dead,” I say. “So what are we going to do? Waltz in there, tell her everything she heard about her father is a lie, that he spent the last years as a combat android killing people for money – all of this going against the wishes of her mother, who, unlike him, actually raised her? How exactly do you imagine that?”

“That is of course not what I planned!” Turing scoffs.

“I know, I was just hyperbolizing,” I say, lifting my hands defensively. “It’s still something you – we should be thinking about.”

“I know,” Turing says. “And I am thinking about it. I’m just... not quite there yet. First, we have to find her.”

“Good. As long as you keep that in mind.” I stare out at the darkening sky. I’m about to ask them something else, when there’s a loud noise coming from inside.

We turn around to the door. “TOMCAT?” I call. “Everything alright?”

There’s no answer. Alarmed, I go inside. We find TOMCAT still on the couch, frozen in horror, data helmet thrown off their head. They are staring at the screen of their own laptop, seeing something that can’t be there because the screen has gone black.

“TOMCAT?” Turing asks again.

This finally rips them out of their stupor. They stare up at us. “I’m, I’m, I’m sorry. Turing, I’m so sorry.” Their accent has disappeared from their voice. “I can’t – I just can’t – can’t help you with this.”

“What is it?” I ask. I’m scared. “TOMCAT, what did you find.”

They shake their head, pack up their things, shoving them into their backpack. “I’m leaving the caches here. You can borrow any equipment you need from me. But I can’t work on this anymore. I’m sorry. I’m – Oh my god. I’m so sorry. I know you didn’t know, but I can’t do this.”

Then they are out the door, barging down the stairs, leaving us confused behind.

“What was that all about?” I ask.

Turing looks as concerned as I feel. “Maybe they found a memory containing graphic violence?” they hazard a guess. “We really should have decided on a better method of screening the data before taking a closer look. The last thing I want to accomplish here is leaving my friends traumatized. Maybe we could – “

“But that doesn’t make sense,” I interrupt them. “They kept working with us after finding that video of Hayden’s death. They needed a break, yes, but they didn’t shut down on us like this.” I pick up my laptop, which is still plugged in the main hub with the data caches.

The video TOMCAT last looked at shows an autocab. Then a computer screen inside my computer screen, showing lines of code, and another window showing a video feed of street traffic. Before I can make any sense of what I’m looking at, Turing chimes in: “It’s an ICEbreaker interface. He must be hacking into a car. Do you think this file is from last Christmas?”

I’m less than eager to watch Nonya getting killed again, or Charlie Nova for that matter. Once was more than enough for a lifetime. I close the video. I halt as I see a mark on the file.

“It’s not from Christmas,” I say, pulling up the file information, which dates the memory about 10 years back. I open up the other file TOMCAT was looking at. Before I can stop it, a video starts playing. Sound as well, rushing through the GX speakers. The screen shows a familiar face.

Yannick Fairlight has less gray hair, less wrinkles than I know him for, but otherwise he’s hardly changed. Except for his face. Amiable as he seemed when we talked to him in the hospital, now his features are twisted by disdain and rage. He seems tired as well.

“I don’t care what that brat is spouting in court,” his cold voice comes loud and droning over the speakers. “I know their sister is the one responsible. But with their servers blown up, there’s no evidence. The brat will get a short stay in juvie while the real TOMCAT is trying to get off scot-free. This whole fiasco is taking years of my life. I can be glad if I’m still on board next week. I want her to pay.” The last sentence sends shivers down my spine. Then there’s another voice, and I freeze up entirely.

“I will take care of it, boss. Don’t worry.”

“Make it look like an accident,” Fairlight says. “Plausible deniability, and all that.”

A chuckle I know all too well. “That won’t be a problem.”

Fairlight sighs. “Thank you, Leon. This is exactly why I hired you. At least there’s one person I can depend on.”

I close my laptop. The sound cuts off. I still hear his chuckling, accompanied by a mechanical rattling.

#my writing #fanfic #read only memories #2064 read only memories #2064rom #leon dekker #turing webber #alys #tomcat #fragments of a cybernetic mind #this one features a pet theory of mine :>

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thatkpophoelife · 3 years

Text

Jealousy

PAIRING: Jungkook x Fem. Reader (ft. Taehyung and NCT Jaehyung)

RATING: Mature 18+

GENRE: NonIdol Au. Highschool Au. Smut. Fluff

WC: 8K

SUMMARY: You and Jungkook have been best friends since the beginning of time. You spent every waking moment together until one night your at a party and the feelings you have been trying to keep inside decide they want to erupt and make your life harder than you ever could have expected.

WARNINGS: Swearing. under aged drinking. Big dick Jungkook. Oral (Fem. Rec.) Nipple Play. Fingering (Fem. Rec.) Multiple Orgasms. Cream Pie. Unprotected Sex. Slight Daddy Kink. Slight degradation (hardly mentioned). Thigh Ridding.

A/N: I’m so happy I’m finally done with it. I am so happy with the result. I have been working hard for the last few days getting this ready to post so sorry if anything is spelt wrong or doesn’t make sense. ENJOY!

You and Jungkook have been best friends since the first grade. It all started when you fell off the monkey bars during recess. Your palms and knees were bloody and scraped. The cement was rough against your skin and you could see those small little rocks in the small cuts on your hands. As a little kid they seemed way worse than they really were. You were scared you would need to go to the doctors for stiches and then they would need to give you a shot. You were like 7, things like that terrified you.

When you looked up through your watery eyes, you could see a little boy with cute cheeks, deep brown eyes, and bangs. You looked back down at the ground and wiped off your cheeks and nose. When you looked back up you saw the same boy but with his hand out for you to grab. You reached out to grab it and he pulled you up with a huge grin and a huff.

“I’m Jungkook but my friends call me Kookie.”

“I'm Y/N. Thanks for helping me up Jungkook.” You though it had a nice ring to it.

“No problem. I have a band aid in my pocket, you can have it”

“Really? Thanks.” When he handed you the band aid you couldn’t help but notice it had a small picture of Woody from Toy Story on it.

In the days that went by, you two hung out nonstop. He told you almost everything that you could learn about a 7-year-old. You learned his birthday was September 1st, he has an older brother named SeokJin that everyone calls Jin, he likes pizza, and loves soccer. You knew other things of course, but those were just some of the basics.

You became best friends extremely fast and spent most of your summer together. You went to the beach more than once a week. Your parents became friends with his parents and there was no going back on this friendship now. You did develop a teensy tiny basically non-existent crush on Jin but it quickly went away when Jungkook called you out on it and asked you to never see his brother in that light again. You agreed because even though you were only now 8, you still had your priorities and Jungkook was in the top 3.

By the time second grade came around he asked you, aka forced you, into joining his soccer team so you could “spend more time together.” You whined for the entire first practice. Since your mom was excited to finally see you doing a sport, she put your hair up in pigtails and bought you neon pink knee socks with a just as neon yellow visor. You were not happy. When you got to the field you felt out of place and like everyone was laughing at you. Those worries effected how you played. Just because you never played the sport before doesn’t mean you weren’t somewhat decent at it.

You knew how to dribble kind of well and you had decent aim when trying to make the ball in the net. But your real strong suit was goalie. You were never afraid of the ball or of getting hurt. If you needed to you would gladly dive for the ball if that’s what your team needed to win a game. You were never a girly girl so getting dirt on your knees never bothered you.

Despite all of this you still didn’t want to try out. Your mom was loud and never stopped cheering your name, no matter where you were. You had no other siblings so it’s not like she had anywhere else to be. She had her own small company that way she could create her own schedule and get to go to anything you wanted her to and as far as she knew that was everything. All of your class field trips, sport games, school plays, everything. You were too nervous to tell her otherwise because you didn’t want to hurt her feelings. You know that she only went overboard because she loves you so much but sometimes you wished she loved you a little less. And your dad was always busy with his 9-5 job so he never went to any of your things.

You never stopped playing though. You ended up enjoying the sport more than you could have expected. It was even more enjoyable since you were actually good at it, you always got to be goalie in all of your games. You and Jungkook were actually the star players on your co-ed team. And whenever Jungkook would ask you about why you still played even though you “didn’t like it that much” you always said you liked it enough to continue playing and that you had nothing better to do. You knew deep down that he knew you enjoyed the sport just as much as him, but you also knew he would never call you out on it.

You won almost all of your games, and you and Jungkook always fought over who deserved the trophy’s. Your argument was that the goalie was a key role to stop the other team from scoring. Jungkook’s was that he made most of the goals to keep your teams score up too high for the other team to ever catch up. It always came to a vote among your teammates, Jungkook always won and you knew it was because most of the girls had a crush on him and wanted him to like them back.

Besides that, nothing exciting happend in your friendship for a while. You spent a lot of time playing soccor in parks and when it was soccor season. You spent all of your summers together and both you’re your guys’ parent let you two get a golden retriever to take care of named Olive the summer before 6th grade. She was staying at Jungkook’s though because it was his idea in the first place. It didn’t mean you never go to see her there. You spent half of your summer there so you saw her a lot.

In your summer of 7th grade Olive got hit by a truck. You were both devasted and Jungkook spent a week at your house. All because Jin forgot to let Olive in at night so she decided to run. Jungkook didn’t talk to Jin for almost a month.

Then in 8th grade a boy named Park Jimin decided to throw a “End of the Summer Almost Freshmen in High-School” party. In reality it was more like ten people that were all in some way shape or form a part of his friend circle. You were invited because they needed another girl to come and Jungkook talked you up so much Jimin had no choice.

The night was all fun and games until his parents went to bed. He quickly grabbed an empty 16-liter Coca-Cola bottle and sat it in the middle of the floor and had everyone gather around in a circle. You were beyond nervous considering you hardly knew any of the boys that were playing and you have never had you first kiss.

A few rounds went by and nothing particularly interesting happened. Jimin kissed some girl named Emily that you didn’t like that much anyways. Then it was Jungkook’s turn. He spun it and you could hear your heart pounding in your ears. It felt as if the bottle was spinning non-stop. Past Emily, past Nichole, past Maddison, past Jimin, past everyone else. Then it stopped, and pointed at you.

You felt your heart speed up. You couldn’t kiss your best friend. It was wrong in so many ways. But the chanting of your names in the background couldn’t go unnoticed. You had no choice but to kiss him. Well, you kind of did but you were hoping that by doing something like this people will start to like you more and not look at you as Jungkook’s best friend. You both sat up and looked each other in the eyes.

Slowly the rest of the world started to silently drift away. You don’t know if it was because everyone around you stopped talking to watch the kiss or because you were to focused on Jungkook and nothing else. His right hand slowly went to up to your caress your cheek while his left hand was on the floor keeping him balanced. You couldn’t help but notice the sparkle in his eyes. The way they traveled from your pupils, to the tip of your nose, and finally landing on your lips. The way his thumb rubbed gentle circles into your cheek leaving a burning sensation wherever it touched. The way he locked eyes with you one last time to make sure he had your permission first.

You noticed that the second you nodded your head giving him permission; he didn’t waste a second to kiss you. The kiss was soft but urgent. Like you both have been waiting for this very moment for so long. Once he broke the kiss, he looked you in the eyes and gave you a look you would never forget. He smirked.

You couldn’t help but shake your head in absolute confusion and utter disbelief. Did he want that kiss to happen? Did he do that because the guys were watching? You didn’t know. The only thing you knew, was that you’ve had a huge crush on your best friend since the very beginning.

Ever since that day he helped you up from the dirty ground when your hands and knees you scraped and bloody. Ever since he told you it was a good idea to co-own a puppy. Ever since the last day of middle school when you took a selfie jumping with glee. These feelings had been hiding ever since the beginning, and Jungkook’s lips was the only thing to break down the barriers and release those feelings.

You didn’t bother to sit back down in the circle. You wanted to go home, needed to go home. You didn’t want to wake up your parents and ask them to pick you up. You also didn’t want to walk through the door and have them ask why you came home. You knew exactly what to do.

Call Jin.

He answered on about the fourth ring. “Hello?” said the course and tired voice from the other line. You felt bad the second you heard him speak because you knew you woke him up.

“Hey Jin. Umm I was wondering if you could pick me up from the party?” You were prepared to literally beg him to come pick you up.

“Whatever. It’s the same house Kookie’s at, right?” You couldn’t believe you didn’t even need to ask twice.

“That is very correct. I will be ready and waiting outside for you to pull up.”

“Loser. I will be there in 10, don’t make me wait.” You couldn’t help but smile widely while you were getting you stuff together and putting your shoes on.

“Y/N? What are you doing?” You have got to be kidding.

“Hey Jungkook, what are you doing here?”

“What do you mean what am I doing here. I was invited” You can see it written all over his cute little bunny face that he was so confused.

“I- I'm just not feeling too well, I'm going home” You couldn’t help the painfully obvious stutter as you lied to your best friend’s face.

“How, it’s a sleep over? Your mom won’t be thrilled if you called her at 1 o’clock in the morning.”

“I already called someone, and they should be here any minute now so you can go back and enjoy kissing those other girls.” What did you just say? You couldn’t stop the words before they came out. Would that be how he found out you liked him? Is that the sentence that would ruin your friendship? Sometimes you felt so very stupid.

“Okay I will.” With that he walked back to continue the game of spin the bottle with a huge smirk on his face. You couldn’t help but stare, eyes wide and mouth agape. You couldn’t help but wonder if that kiss meant nothing to him. As far as you knew that was his first kiss, and it was most defiantly yours.

As you were lost in your dark cloud of thoughts, your phone dinged making you jump a little. It was Jin texting you that he was already there to pick you up. If you were honest, you weren’t expecting him to be here this fast.

You quickly picked your bag off of the ground, slipped on your black and white checkered Vans, and made your way out the door. When you got to Jin’s car, you quickly threw your stuff in the back and climbed into the passenger seat.

“Where to Y/N?” You could still hear the sleep in his voice and see it in his eyes. He was wearing a simple grey Champion hoodie with black Nike joggers. His hair was all messy from sleeping and the moon perfectly aligned his features. You couldn’t lie, Jin was one of the most attractive men you have ever seen, but you prefer guys closer to your age. Plus, you like the younger brother anyway. Hey snap out of it you need to not like your best friend.

“Um, Y/N? Where do you want me to take you because if you don’t speak up, I will take you straight home.”

“Oh, sorry. Can I just crash at your guys’ place? I know Kookie’s not there but I don’t want my parents asking questions and to yell at me for waking you up.” Yes, you were playing the, ‘please don’t rat me out’ card. But you weren’t lying to him so what’s the problem?

“Sure, just sleep in Kook’s bed. You tend to snore sometimes.” He reached over to ruffle your hair with a huge grin on his face

“Hey! I do not snore!” You felt like a 5-year-old throwing a fit with the way you pouted out your bottom lip, crossed your arms over your chest, and sank into the seat.

“Whatever dork. Why do you want to leave early anyways? Did something happen?” You could tell he was genuinely concerned, and he was crazy good at keeping secrets so what was the harm in telling him about your mild crush on his little brother.

“At the party after Jimin’s parents went to sleep we all played spin the bottle and when it was Kookie’s turn I suddenly was really really nervous it would land on one of the other girls and I didn’t know why but then it landed on me and we kissed and now I think I have a moderately huge crush on him that I never realized I had before and I'm kind of freaking out. Don’t tell anybody though please,” You finally took a breath after your long and wordy run on sentence.

“You’re just now realizing?” Jin had a huge smile on his face and was laughing but you had no idea why.

“What do you mean ‘you’re just now realizing?’” You had no idea what he was talking about.

“Y/N you and Jungkook obviously have had huge crushes on each other for like ever. He admitted his to me a while ago.” You couldn’t believe what you were hearing and you knew you would ask Jungkook about it the next time you saw him.

“Can you just take me to your place. It’s late and I'm tired,” After your friendly reminder Jin drove off to his house so you could sleep. He didn’t poke and prod at it any more and you were grateful. Jin was the older brother you never had and you were the little sister he always wanted.

When you woke up Jungkook was already there. You told him about how Jungkook told him that he had a crush on you. Jungkook shot you down almost immediately saying it was just a way to attempt to humiliate him. You felt hurt. Your best friend of years and your huge crush basically said it would be humiliating to have a crush on you. Lucky for you, you left very shortly after and spent your weekend preparing for your first year of high school and getting over your crush on Jungkook. Mostly.

****

Your freshman year was chaotic. You and Jungkook had only a few classes together so you almost drifted apart. It didn’t help that ever since the party Jungkook seemed to be hiding something from you. Something big. The only thing that kept you close was soccor and Jin. But after first semester Jungkook started hanging out with seniors and going to parties. You asked to go once, thinking that he would stay by your side and not let you be taken away by some guy you didn’t know. That wasn’t the case.

Once you entered through the doors Jungkook quickly left your side and got drunk. You caught him in a corner making out with a girl you had never seen before. Then you watched as he pulled her away to a room. Your curiosity got the best of you and you followed close behind. After a minute of them being alone in a room you began hearing moans. You were destroyed.

You quickly made your way to the door so you could go back home, when you ran into a very beautiful man. He couldn’t have been much older than you. He had beautiful chestnut hair and two beautiful dimples. You didn’t even bother asking for his name once you saw the mischievous glint in his eye. You let him lead you to a room, know what was going to happen.

That was how you lost your virginity. It wasn’t special liked you hoped it was going to be. You later learned his name was Jaehyun. It didn’t matter because you didn’t plan on talking to him again. Neither of you wanted anything more than sex that night.

You and Jungkook got into a fight one night. You don’t know what happened to start the fight. All you remember is that it ended with both of you in tears and him hugging you like he never wanted to let go. You made up and everything that happened before that was forgotten. Mostly.

You spent the rest of your school years studying hard and getting through all of your actual difficult classes so the only non-elective class you were taking senior year was your English class. Which you had with Jungkook, of course. You spent your summers with him and you both made it into varsity soccor. He knew the truth about your love for soccor when he heard you talking to your mom about it.

You still hadn’t had a boyfriend yet in your sophomore year. You were just too busy with school to actually try to get a dude’s attention, and you said your junior year was going to be different. You would meet a guy, get Jungkook’s approval, fall in love, have the ‘break up talk’ when you sign up for college, and most likely do just that, break up. The only key problem is that whenever you were walking in the halls and saw a cute guy Jungkook would always say he was a dick and that he doesn’t know how to treat a woman. You tended not to ask questions.

But now you were standing in front of your full-length body mirror, smoothing out the wrinkles in your outfit and occasionally touching up your make up or hair. Your first day of senior year outfit was simple but was sure to turn heads. You opted for a tight-fitted white crop top that showed your cleavage, skinny ripped jeans that hugged your ass perfectly that also had a rip under your left ass cheek, and your black heeled Timberland’s. Your hair was perfectly curled and your makeup looked flawless. You asked Jungkook to bring one of his black leather jackets for you to wear over everything. Damn you looked good.

Just as you were shaking out any last nervous jitters you heard a honk, indicating that your best friend was here to pick you up. You quickly grabbed your bag, ran down stairs, and grabbed two slices of toast for breakfast. Saying by to your parents you turned the nob of the door handle and ran out towards Jungkook’s car. As you opened the door to his red convertible, he looked at you and his jaw dropped. You missed the way his eyes scanned your figure and he darted out his tongue to wet his lips. He was eating you up in his mind, hoping you didn’t notice.

“Hey Kookie, do you have the jacket I asked for?” You handed him a piece of toast as your put on your seatbelt, shaking him out of his trance as he gave you said jacket.

“Ready for our first day? You’re going to be turning heads in that outfit,” You missed the way his eyes snuck a glance at your cleavage before driving off.

“I know right. I’ve been single all of high school so far and this year I want that to change.” You had a huge smile plastered across your face as you spoke. “I like your outfit by the way, it’s nice.” He was wearing black skinny jeans, black doc martins, a black tee, and a black faux leather jacket. And because of Jungkook’s new found passion of working out his thighs looked incredible.

“Thanks. Are we still going out to lunch so we don’t need to eat cafeteria food?”

“Duh, what else, and chew with your mouth closed you look like a 7-year-old.” You rolled your eyes and Jungkook did not miss the small and simple gesture.

“Hey! You’re the one who became friends with this 7-year-old.”

“That’s not fair you were an angel sent from heaven, my savior. Now you’re just a jack-ass.

“I know you love me.”

“Jungkook what would you know. At first you thought that 7x7 was 64.”

“Oh my god woman will you just drop that I was in 3rd grade.” You both just laughed at each other’s silly antics from when you were younger until you pulled into the school’s parking lot. The second you stood up and walked over to walk in with your best friend, every one stopped and stared. It felt like one of those dramatic movie scenes where the wind is blowing and everything turns into slow motion while you hear the main characters internal monolog.

“Why is everyone staring at us, is something in my teeth? Did my makeup smudge?” You pulled at the side of his jacket making him lean down so you could whisper in his ear. Just because you were walking in 4-inch heels did not make you as tall as him.

“No dummy. We look like the ultimate power couple right now. The hottest girl and guy in school, of course they’re staring.” You were so busy nodding your head and looking at other people that you didn’t catch the way his eyes fell to the curve of your ass.

You walked into school going to your respectable homerooms, then meeting up in the hall to go to your shared English class. You noticed that the popular girls kept trying to befriend you. You knew it was because you were now a threat and they did not want you to be prom queen. Last year you weren’t but guess who was, Emily. You still didn’t like each other. You don’t know why you didn’t get along but it’s not like you wanted to be her friend or something.

You and Jungkook sat down next to each other talking about how weird the day had been. People were still staring but who could blame them, you both had huge summer glow ups.

When you looked up at the clock hanging above the door, you notice a boy you’ve never seen before. He was incredibly attractive and had a beautiful symmetric face. You felt like you were drooling while you stared at him. Then he looked over at you and smiled. How the hell does a man’s smile look like that. You finally met the man that would actually rival Jungkook’s own good looks.

“Hey can I sit here?” You jumped when he asked the question, not expecting his voice to also sound hot.

“Yeah, Y/N by the way.” You held out your hand for him to take, but instead of shaking it he placed an opened mouth kissed on your knuckles. Wow he was hot. It made your thighs clench. Jungkook just rolled his eyes.

“Taehyung, it’s nice to meet you Y/N.” You were so entranced by this new boy’s handsome good looks you didn’t see the terrifying daggers Jungkook was sending his way. He read him like a book. He would lead a girl on, take her innocence, and then leave her out to dry.

Jungkook didn’t just guess this either, he had Taehyung’s snapchat and snapped him one summer after he saw him at a party. Taehyung had told Jungkook his tactics, and Jungkook even went to his house where he witnessed him use those very tactics.

“There’s a party at my house Saturday night around 10 pm, if you give me your number, I can text you the details and you can come.” You turned to Jungkook giving him hopeful eyes until he sighed and nodded. After all you don’t go to a party without your best friend.

“As long as Jungkook, my best friend since 1st grade might I add, can come with.” You weren’t going without him and that was that. Taehyung agreed without hesitation and you gave him your number. You quickly regretted it though because once he opened his mouth you lost interest extremely quickly.

All he could seem to talk about was all of the girls he’s hooked up with and how he could get any girl he wanted. You knew what he was trying to get at and became bored very fast. You were actually extremely grateful when the class started.

You and Jungkook passed notes the entire time, all about the egotistical boy next to you. And even though you didn’t like him, you would go to his party because you wanted to actually live a little your senior year. But sadly, one potential future boyfriend was out the door and you were back at square one.

The rest of the week passed by fast and because you had mostly easy elective classes you had no homework over the weekend for the first time in years. Which meant you had all sorts of time to party. You texted Jungkook to pick you up at around 9 so you would have time to get ready but still be at the party in time.

****

You woke up around noon on Saturday from your alarm. You didn't wake up because you wanted to but because you didn’t want to ruin the sleep schedule you didn’t even have. Why did you wake up again? Anyways once you woke up from you slumber you texted Jungkook to clear up some last-minute details.

Y/N

are you up yet? I just woke up. why dont I wake up like disney princesses?? I look like a monster :(

Kookie

Disney princesses are pretty thats why you don’t look like them in the morning or ever for that matter

Y/N

stfu your no prince charming either

Kookie

Really? Then why would almost every girl in our school blow me???

Y/N

If thats the case then why don’t you get some so you can stop complaining to me about how horny you always are??

Kookie

Because I have my right eye some one

Y/N

WHO?!?! and why havent I heard about this until now?? and why just your right eye??

Kookie

Because not EVERYTHING is your business smartypants and dont talk about my left eye

Y/N

whatever I will find out about this mystery girl though… MARK MY WORDS!! YOULL BE JUNGSHOOK

Kookie

Whatever you say smartypants whyd you text me anyways?

Y/N

Right! your still picking me up, RIGHT?!

Kookie

Its you’re, but yes I'm still picking you up

Y/N

Good, I will be ready in 3-4 hours :)

Kookie

You do know the party is at like 10 right

Y/N

THEN JUST PICK ME UP AT 10 GOD DAMNIT

Kookie

Not how you spell dammit but alright

Y/N

Stfu english nerd and good bye until 10

With that your conversation with Jungkook ended and you started to binge watch Haikyu!! until around 6. Then you rolled out of bed and started getting ready. You got into the shower, shaving everything. You didn’t know what was going to happen tonight so you figured you would be extra prepared. You even used your exfoliator, if you anyone got to touch you, they would be lucky.

Then you did your hair. You curled it perfectly and then put it in a high pony tail. Perfect party hair in your opinion. Then you did your makeup making sure to keep it simple yet amazing. You opted for a winged liner, perfectly done brows, and dark red lipstick. Lastly was your outfit. Your room was a complete mess after you threw half of your closet onto the floor but your pretty sure you found a great outfit.

You put on your matching set of black lacy lingerie that made your ass look good and your boobs even better. You than grabbed a different white crop top with a dangerously low cut making your black lace peak out from the sides and small booty shorts that barely covered your ass. Then you grabbed the same leather jacket you wore on your first day of school and put on a pair of sneakers. You went to that party with Jungkook once so you knew how crazy and disgusting the ground could be.

By the time you were completely done it was already 8:47. You didn’t think it would take quite that long to get ready but at the same time you did. You were touching up your makeup when Jungkook texted you he was waiting. You didn’t tell your parents about the fact that you were going to a party and they knew that if they saw you dressed the way you were, they would flip. So like any other teen, you made plans to sneak out.

The only person you to actually worry about catching you was your dad because you knew if your mom caught you, she would laugh at you and tell you to have fun. Your dad on the other hand not so much.

Jungkook parked a block down from your house and turned off his car headlights so he wouldn’t be as noticeable. You opened your window as quietly was possible and began to scale your wall. Thankful that your bedroom window was the one closest to the gutter and that you chose sneakers as your shoes. Once you hit the ground safely, you bolted for Jungkook’s car and got in as fast as you could.

“Hey cutie,” Jungkook said wiggling his eyebrows. Luckily for him, his car lights were off so you didn’t catch him gaping at your breasts.

“Sup, you ready to party?” You asked as he turned on the car and started to drive where the GPS told him.

“Yes, now remember no sleeping with some random dude and no drugs”

“Same to you mister”

“Ok so if you want to stay out late text your mom and ask if you can spend the night at my house because my parents are out of town and Jin is going to this food thing with his friends for like three days.” Jungkook said as he merged into traffic.

“Good idea,” You pulled out your phone and texted your mom knowing she would understand much better than your father. “She said that’s fine”.

“Good so if you get hung over you don’t need to try and explain it to your mom,” Damn was Jungkook always this smart, and did he always look this good.

After driving the rest of the way, you pulled into Taehyung’s house and you were awestruck. It was huge and surrounded by hedges. You couldn’t see another house within a mile which was good because that means the cops won’t be called because of noise complaints.

You stepped out of Jungkook’s car and walked into Taehyung’s house immediately being greeted with the smell of alcohol and weed. You quickly got separated from Jungkook and made your way to the kitchen to fill a red solo cup half full with some beer you found and apple juice. You slammed it down, wincing as it made its way down your throat. It wasn’t the best tasting but it was better than the beer by itself.

Once you were done making yourself the same drink again, you made your way outside and found a huge pool with a jacuzzi right by it. You scanned the area, seeing a couple making out in the pool and three boys you didn’t quite recognize playing around in the pool. As you continued looking around taking another sip of your drink you noticed something strange. Standing next to the pool was Jungkook and Emily.

She was twirling her hair in her fingers and giggling while Jungkook looked her up and down smirking the entire time.

You know you’ve been telling Jungkook to get a girlfriend for years now, but you thought he knew you were just joking. For some odd reason you were upset. You didn’t know why at first. Maybe because you didn’t like Emily, maybe because you didn’t want Emily to steal him away from you. You were Jealous. You hated when it hit you like a pile of bricks. But you definitely intended on doing something about it.

You quickly downed the rest of your drink in your red solo cup hoping it would give you more courage, and made your way over to them.

“Hey Jungkook I need to talk to y-,” You were walking towards him and before you knew it you were falling into the pool. Your first thought was that you tripped but when you resurfaced from the water you saw Emily looking at you with a sly grin. All you could do was glare.

“Oops,” Emily snickered as she grabbed out her phone and took several pictures of you. Great now your hot ass makeup and hair was completely ruined. Shit you’re wearing a WHITE shirt and BLACK bra that are now wet. You looked down to confirm it and sure enough your shirt was more than see-through. AND Jungkook’s leather jacket was ruined. At least you wore sneakers.

“What the fuck Emily,” You were startled from your stare down with the girl when you heard Jungkook’s low voice. It was loud and honestly kind of turned you on. Wait you shouldn’t be thinking about your best friend like that. You shook the thought out of your head and looked up at Jungkook. His fists were balled up at his sides and his jaw was clenched. He looked fine as hell.

As you slowly made your way to the side of the pool, he took off his leather jacket and knelt down. Once you got to the side he reached down with both arms, inserted his hands under your armpits, and hoisted you out of the water. He then helped you take off his ruined leather jacket and threw it at Emily. “Happy now?” He then took his perfectly fine leather jacket and draped it over your shoulders instructing you to hold it closed. “Come on let’s go get you cleaned up.” He bent down and whispered it into your ear causing shivers to go down your spin. You could only nod in response.

As he led you towards the doors of the house, he yanked his jacket from Emily’s hand and gave her one of the scariest looks you’ve ever seen. All you did was smirk and stick your tongue out at her like a 5-year-old. You were very satisfied.

He led you through the crowd of people dancing and grinding on each other like they weren’t in a public setting. He then led you to what you assumed was going to be a bathroom but ended up being a bedroom. You couldn’t help but wonder how he knew his way around so well.

When you entered the room, you realized it was huge with a bathroom connected to it. “Why did you take me here instead of a normal bathroom?” You asked.

“Because most likely they are occupied by other people and I don’t really want to walk in on some other couple having sex. Especially when I'm with you.” What was that supposed to mean? “And before you ask how I know my way around, I used to be sort of friends with Tae. I only came here once when he tried hooking me up with some random chick and I guessed I just remembered my way around.” He was so honest so easily.

“Did you do anything with the chick?” You felt stupid the moment you asked.

“What?” You don’t know if he didn’t hear you or what but you still asked again.

“Did you do anything with her, the girl he tried hooking you up with?” You felt pathetic.

“I told you have my right eye on someone else.” He said leading you into the bathroom.

“Who is this lucky girl anyways?” You asked sitting on the sink countertop while you took off Jungkook’s jacket.

He paused, “Let’s just say, I played a game of spin the bottle at Jimin’s house before freshman year started. I kissed her. She was the only person I kissed that night. I realized that I had a massive crush on her but she left and felt hella crushed. I stopped playing and couldn’t help but feel like I was losing her forever. But I still spend all of my spare time with her and I couldn’t ask for a better best friend. Deep down I’m afraid that she will never like me back because of the girls I slept with freshman year but I want her to know that I only did that to try and convince myself that it I wasn’t in love with her. After I found out she slept with some random guy one night at a party that I took her to I came to my senses and let myself love her. I still regret the night I took her to that party because I wish I was the one to get to take her innocence away.”

You looked at him, you mouth agape, “oh” You knew he was talking about you.

You watched his eyes dart down to your lips as his tongue poked out lick his. His hands drifted down and grabbed your waist softly, just in case you wanted to stop him. He slowly leaned down, brushing your hair behind your ear and whispering in a deep raspy tone that made your panties wet, “You can stop me at any time”.

Within moments his soft, plush lips were on yours. Your hands made their way up his back and intertwined into his black curly locks, tugging harshly. Jungkook let out a low groan that made your body hot. One of his hands crept up and lightly brushed against your nipple making you gasp into the kiss. Jungkook didn’t waste any time and immediately his tongue was exploring your mouth.

Once you broke the kiss, gasping for air, Jungkook placed his hands underneath your thighs and picked you up, causing goosebumps to emit across your body. He carried you out of the bathroom, throwing you on the bed. You watched as he took off his shirt and crawled over you. You’ve seen him shirtless many times but this time it was different. You happy felt up his chest and you didn’t have to worry about him questioning you because he was kneeling over you, devouring you with his eyes.

Before you knew it, he was trying to take your shirt off. You gladly assisted him, pulling off your bra along with it. Once it was off and you looked up at him, you felt shy. Jungkook was just staring at your chest and wasn’t saying anything.

“Do you need to make it obvious that you don’t like my boobs?” Your hands went up to cover yourself. You were always insecure about them.

“Your right Y/N I don’t like your boobs; I fucking love them,” He quickly moved your hands away and leaned down. His mouth connected with your nipple, his tongue making your back arch into him. You felt yourself growing wetter by the second. His teeth gently grazed your nipple and you let out a loud whimper. You really hoped your great-grandma wasn’t watching you right now.

He left of your nipple with a pop and kissed his way to your other, leaving small hickeys marking his path. He did the same things to this one. You couldn’t wait anymore and moved your hand down to your core. You needed some sort of friction, but Jungkook’s hand stopped you.

“Ungrateful slut. I’m giving you all of this pleasure and you can’t wait. I want you to ride my thigh and maybe if I like what I see I’ll let you finish more than once tonight,” You looked at him in awe. When the fuck did he learn to talk like that. It was hot as hell but still.

He went and sat on the edge of the bed and looked at you. You werent sure what to do, so he pulled you onto his thigh. You froze up right away. You were straddling his thigh too afraid to do anything. He looked you dead in the eyes as his hands went down to your waist, forcing you to move. Relief flooded you. You were so happy that he finally let you have some sort of friction.

Your hands went to rest on his shoulders so it was easier to hold yourself up. You quickly started doing all of the work. Moving yourself at a fast pace on Jungkook’s thigh. You could feel his hard through his pants and it only made you more needy. He continuously clenched his thigh making you come undone even faster.

“Oh my god Jungkook. I think I'm gonna- I'm gonna cu-,” You let out shaky breath feeling that familiar knot build up in your stomach. Right as you were about to snap Jungkook stopped your hips from moving.

“Did you really think I was going to let you cum already? Go lay down.” You obeyed him quickly, watching as he kneeled down at the end of the bed. He grabbed your pants and with one swift motion slid them off, throwing them somewhere else in the room.

“Fuck Y/N. You’re so wet. I can’t wait to taste you. This good little pussy” He ripped your panties off of you, eliciting a loud groan. You were becoming impatient, squirming in front of him. He used his hand to hold your hips in place, while his other went to rub delicate circles on your clit. You watched as his face dove into you. Licking a stripe up your folds, collecting all of your juices.

“Fuck Y/N. You taste so good.” He groaned out, quickly diving back in. His eyes were blown out in hunger. He moved his hand away from your clit and replaced it with his tongue. Sliding one finger in you, moving at a slow pace and curling it, reaching your g-spot. A loud moan escaped you as you started trying to rock your hips against his face. Interlacing your fingers in his locks.

He pulled away to take a breath, “Do you think you can handle to fingers? Gotta prepare my baby for later. Yeah? I'm gonna stretch you out so good. Gonna destroy this pussy.” With that he inserted a second finger into you, reattacking your clit with his tongue. His pace kept intensifying. You could feel the familiar knot in your stomach build.

“Fuck Jungkook. I'm gonna-,” your words turned into a drawn-out moan when he hummed against your clit.

“Cum for me baby.” At that, the knot it your stomach snapped and relief washed over your body. You tried closing your legs but Jungkook held them open.

Once he was done lapping up all of your juices, he moved up and kissed you, hard. You could taste yourself on his tongue. Your hands made their way down to undo Jungkook’s pants. He broke away from the kiss and stood up, pulling his pants and underwear off in one swift motion.

You stared at his member for a second in awe. You knew he was big, but no that big. The tip was an angry red and you could see the veins. You were growing wetter just thinking about the delicious stretch.

“I hope you don’t mind,” he said “I'm gonna have to go in raw.”

You smiled up at him, bucking your hips up towards his hard to get some sort of friction. “I'm on birth control.” That was all you needed to say before he slowly started entering you. The stretch being uncomfortable.

“You okay?” He asked worry on his face. You shook your head, “It’s just, new.”

He smiled, “Just tell me when you’re ready.”

After a moment you shook your head, giving him the okay to start moving again. He slowly pulled out all the way before pushing in again, hitting your g-spot as he did. You could feel the veins on his cock, and your legs wrapped around his small waist as your hands wrapped around his neck.

He slowly started to pick up the pace, pulling out all of the way before pushing back in. It wasn’t long before the pain morphed into pleasure. Moans spilling from your lips. The louder you moaned the faster he went.

“Ha-harder, da-daddy,” you didn’t mean to say it, but when you did his head snapped up.

“Fuck, you’re going to be the death of me.” He starting snapping his hips into yours. You could hear the head board hitting the wall with each thrust but you didn’t mind at all. All you felt was bliss.

“Da-addy I-I'm gonna c-cum.” Your walls started clenching around him.

“Fuck baby, cum. Cum for daddy” With that you did. Your release hit you hard. Your legs shaking as you dug your nails into his back piercing a few layers of his skin. Moaning out his name.

Even after you came, he kept pounding into you, chasing his own high. Beautiful moans escaping his lips as he did. Your moans making him close. His body was coated in a layer of sweat.

“Cum in me daddy. Please. Fill me up.” You choked out as he relentlessly pounded into you.

“Fuck, I'm going to cum.” You tightened around him one last time, feeling as his seed shot into you. You both laid there for a moment. Neither one wanting to leave. You could feel your mixed juicing seeping out of your whole as he began to soften inside you.

He slowly pulled out of you, “You need to go to the bathroom.” He picked you up bridal style from the bed and walked you over to the bathroom. Setting you down on the toilet so you could pee. When you were done, he picked you up and set you on the counter, taking a warm rag and cleaning you off making you sigh at the pleasant feeling. He carried you back to the bed and laid you down, getting into his boxers.

He laid down next to you and covered you both with the blanket, before wrapping his arm around tightly around your waist. His chin on your head as he cuddled you. It wasn’t long before you both drifted off to sleep

****

When you woke up and saw your best friend next to you, sleeping peacefully, you were relieved. Relieved that it wasn’t a dream and relieved that he didn’t up and leave in the middle of the night to leave because he regretted it. You leaned over and draped your arm over his torso and snuggled up to him, resting you head on his arm. He groaned, making you halt your actions.

“Good morning beautiful.” He said with a smile, kissing you on the top of your head.

You smiled happy it was him you woke up next to, “Morning.”

****

A/N: I hope you enjoyed. :) Send any ideas you have for anything. P.S The gif wouldn’t load :( so sorry about that.

485 notes · View notes

lengthofropes · 3 years

Photo

POVs series

Part 4: Dean

words: 2,2k; rating: teen and up

summary:

Dean’s POV, since Cas is gone, then got back from the Empty.

Intentionally written as scattered thoughts.

Slowly, from grief, to the ending that they both deserve.

————————————-

1. What shapes me? Lines of my bones, enveloped within my skin, so tensed and fragile. The tremble of my hands in the morning, as I try but can’t find you next to me. My old clothes, my new clothes. Corners of my house. My car’s seat upholstery. Soft recoil of my revolver. Food on my plate. Blood in my arteries. My “yes”s and my “no”s and cracks in my voice, as I say so. - I’d drive. - Far away. From here, but where to? I’d watch the sun goes up and down, up and down, throwing it’s rays into side mirror. Lightening the road or leaving it in darkness, disturbed only by the headlights. I’d listen to the sound that air makes, sliced in half by the windshield. I’d listen to the purring of the engine under the hood, gratefully fed with gasoline. Too bad, it’s not clamorous enough. I’d pay dearly. With money, with time, that’s left. With anything. For something so loud, that could muffle my inaudible screams into nowhere. - I’d drive. But where to? - I don’t know where to. -

keep reading under the cut - or - read on AO3

2. I can’t drive alone. I keep seeing your gaze on my right. I see it, when I look into the rear view mirror too. Like you’re still here, around, waiting to say something. Or just sitting silently, pervading the air with the appeasement of your presence. Looking at me. How long will it take me to forget how your eyes looked like? How long will it take me to forget what you saw in me? How can I? Now, that I believe in everything you’ve said. - How warm your touch was. - How good does it feel to be “finally free”, remind me? I don’t like the price. -

3. I’d like some certainty, you know? To come to terms. But I keep thinking “If only..” I keep asking “What if..?” So many of those. Like there are other paths, and it all could’ve work out differently. They throw me back days ago, then months ago, then years. All my life, since the day I’ve met you. I keep searching for the answer, for the exact point, the moment, when I could’ve say something, do something. And you’d still be here.

“If”s are draining me. They are the lump in my throat, big and barbed. Sometimes it grows so big, it blocks the air from getting into my lungs. And in times like these I wonder, maybe I should just stop breathing at all? Still easier, than to accept your absence. - What if. What if. What if. - And you’d still be here. Here. -

4. Prayers never got me any good. Except of those, that were for you. But you can’t hear me now. You can’t hear at all. I know, it’s no use, I know it’s not possible, I know… I know. But I keep doing this, I keep begging. Not for a solace, not because of compassion. For fairness. Because. You took yourself away from me. It’s not fair, it’s so not fair. How could you do this to me? It’s not fair, can you hear me? It’s not fair! It’s not… - Come back to me. - Bring him back to me. - I don’t know if it is a prayer, I just repeat it over and over. Maybe I’m hoping these words will lose their meaning, if I’ll bounce them against every wall? Every wall of every empty room. I wander around them at night. You stood here, you smiled there, we had an argument, sitting in these chairs. And here, here you touched my shoulder. - Come back to me. Please, come back to me. -

5. How come, it’s been months already? I counted the seconds; they aimlessly wandered around, and then, having nothing else to do, gathered into minutes. It took more courage for minutes to gather in hours, but they did anyway. Hours slowly built up the days, and every seven days made it into a week. - I know, how time works. I’m just not sure, it works for me. - It’s not a straight line, I think. It’s more like a quagmire, and I’m drowning. I looked at myself in the mirror again this morning, as I do every day. I look closely, I check, I perceive. Hey, you’d be proud of me, you know? Little by little, I merge my usual “I” with your vision of me. Because this is the best way to remember you - to live by your last words. - I’d like to tell you, how YOU changed me. [ X ] -

6. Light is blinding me. Heart grew so big, it filled all of my chest, not sure, if there’s a place left to breathe in. Please, let it be real. Please. Please… Not another happy dream, that turns into nightmare, when I’m waking up. Please. - I see you. - Same room, same spot. You. Alive. Your hands are cold. You’re so weak, you can’t stand by yourself, you can’t even speak. But before you passed out, you looked at me. You looked at me, and I saw my own eyes reflect in yours. And that was enough to believe this is real. - I don’t remember… I… - Someone’s shaking my shoulder and saying my name over and over again. I’m sitting on the floor, holding you in my arms. My fingers hurt. I must’ve clutched them into your trench coat too tight. I have no idea how long I’ve been sitting like this. But yes… yes… Sam’s hand is on my shoulder and he’s right, his voice is very quiet, but he’s right. We should get you out of here. We should put you in bed. - I nod. I’m not sure I can speak. -

7. It’s so quiet. - You lay. You rest. You sleep. I’ll watch over you. It’s my turn now. The room is still. Only movement is your chest’s slow ups and downs, as you breathe. It’s just air, nothing more, right? How can the sound of air, filling the lungs, be the most soothing sound in the world? But it is. - It’s our air. We share it. - And I’m crying. I’m crying and I’m crying and I can’t stop. -

8. Sam came back from the store, I stand in the kitchen, taking out groceries and stuff out of the shopping bags. Among everything, I see he bought a super glue, I have no idea, what he needs this for. This is so stupid, this is so fucking stupid, it’s pathetic… but I can’t keep my eyes of it. “Use super glue to strongly bind 2 surfaces together”. I want to come into your room, I want to sit beside you, while you’re still sleeping. I want to smear that goddamn glue all over you, from head to toe, and put myself on top of you, as like I’m the other surface. “Assemble parts and hold together with pressure for 15 seconds or until set”, the directions say. Or, there’s gotta be sewing kit here somewhere? I want to thread a needle and sew you to me. With such large and strong stitches, I darned Sam’s pants like that when I was a kid, I know these stitches are reliable, believe me. Or use a duck tape. Or shove us both into the bottle and threw it away into the ocean. - It’s been two days and nine hours, since you’re back. Someday, I’ll be able to leave your room, leave you out of my sight, and don’t feel growing panic in my chest. - Someday, I’ll believe you’re back for good. For good. For ever. Not today. -

9. Your bare legs are sticking out of your robe. You are strong enough to walk around the bunker, and, of course, the first thing you did is get to the kitchen. Oh, you woke up hungry and just wanted to make yourself a sandwich, I see… You are not cold, but you are sitting on a chair, constantly adjusting this stupid robe, wrapping yourself in it tighter. You weirdo. You know who you remind me of? A cold little sparrow on a twig, who keeps on ruffling the feathers to keep warm. Those legs are sticking out… - I place a huge bowl of hot chicken soup in front of you. “Eat!” I say. “Or I’m gonna start feeding you with a spoon, I swear!” You mutter something dissatisfied about peanut butter and jelly under your nose, but I won’t even listen. "Eat!” I say. Seriously, you didn’t want to wake me up?? So nice of you! Next time consider my near heart attack, maybe? You look sorry and giving me those puppy eyes, and I swear I want to smile so bad. Not just smile, really. To laugh with my full chest, easy and warm. - You breathe. You sleep. Now you eat. Should I ask questions? You’re here. You’re okay. You’re getting better. - You’re getting better. -

10. Your hair smell of my shampoo. Your hair. Smell of my shampoo. Your clothes are my old ones, but they fit you so good. Soon, when you’re well enough, we’re gonna drive some place nice and buy you your own. It’s selfish, probably, but I want it to happen as late, as possible; not your recovery, of course, your new clothes, I mean. - You look mine in my clothes. - Your hair smell of my shampoo. I’ve realised it just now, when you fell asleep on my shoulder. I forgive you, we’ve seen this movie two times already, it’s okay. And I can pretend I’m still watching it, while shamelessly wander my eyes over you, curled in a ball, covered with soft plaid. - I dare to kiss the top of your head, I dare to cover your knuckles with my palm, carefully, not to wake you up. - You are so warm. -

11. Do I deserve you? - Do I? Your presence in my life. You. All of you. So pure, so perfect. So selfless. I’d say you are full of light, but it’s not quite so. Because you are the light. God, I’m so scared. It starts in my fingertips, they ache, like being pinned with needles. Needles get into my blood flow and make my whole body shiver. - It took me way too long to understand, but I see now… it’s not about you, it’s about me. I know, I know! I remember everything you’ve said. I remember how I tried to believe it, to understand, to accept, to let it all inside me and keep it there. Your simple truth, that I actually mean something. Mean so much. To you. Fucking everyday morning exercises. Look and repeat, look and repeat to self all over again, “you are loved, you are loved, you are loved…” until not scared of the meaning. But… is this enough? What you feel about me? What I feel about you? To deserve you? Do I deserve you, do I? Do I? I… - But you’re kissing me back. - And you shiver too. Are those my needles got into your veins or are those yours? Jesus, do you have the same idiotic thoughts in your head?? God, we are both so clumsy, so stupid, so fucking stupid! We were so dumb, we are both so dumb! We are… We… - WE. - And I’m kissing you. I’m kissing you. I deserve it. I deserve you. I do. -

12. To feel the pulse on your neck with my lips. To smile, when your stubble tickles my ribs. To hear your shuddered inhales right next to my temple. To hold you, closer than ever, and not be afraid to. - It’s something about the heat of your skin, that makes me feel belonged. Safe. -

13. - You told me, you want to grow old with me. -

14. It’s quite hot, but windy today. You rolled the window down, and fresh air immediately filled up the car. We’re driving back home from the grocery store. You’re texting to someone and smiling. Tell them “Hi” from me. We’re listening to the new mixtape you’ve made. It’s awful, by the way. 90’s? Seriously?? Oh, don’t hurt yourself rolling your eyes back. Ok…Okay! I’m shutting up! You’re taking two milkshakes out of the bag, one for you, one for me. We argue on who’s gonna cook today. We drive past the small tidy houses with green yards and gardens, talking over each one of those. Someday, soon, yeah, most likely. That one with blue shutters? Yeah, I like it too. - In between of shifting the gears, I hold your hand. I love you. - Days are like this. -

15. Hello, my name is Dean Winchester. White male, early forties’. I don’t try to recognize myself in a mirror anymore. I don’t ask questions. - I’m just here. - Yeah, there’s grey in my hair, quite a bit, but still. These are my arms, my shoulders, hands. I used to know my hands as lethal, strong and fast, and I’ve always thought, that’s enough for male hands. I mean… they are, yes. But now I’d add, they are full of care, also. Even gentle. They are good for so many things, I didn’t even realize they are so good. [ X ] - This is my face. Here are my freckles and there are my wrinkles. - This is my skin; I live in it.

- It finally fits me. -

__________________________________

tag list:

@alivedean @achillestiel @acklesology @agentcastiels @burnhamandtilly @bluefirecas @bebecas @becauseofthebowties @ben-edlund @bestiarum @bipridedean @brokenyouth @casthyelle @captain-flint @celestialdean @celestialcastiel @chaoticdean @castheology @cosmiccas @deanwinchesteradjacent @donestiel @debriefingspn @dstiel @evermorecastiel @emptymeg @endverse @fromperdition @forthiswholeworld @galaxycastiel @heartattackles @honeystiel @highvoltagejackles @inacatastrophicmind @itsinjustbeing @icegifs @iheartcas @itsinjustbeing @joharvele @jacobglaser @jackthomson90-blog @lucymorans @mad-as-a-box-of-frogs @magnoliadean @maxguevra @misha-collins @mckkachins @marvells @mochadean @nesnej @nuntox @presidentbidean @rocksaltseraph @sarahblakes @starlightcastiel @starrynightdeancas @sobsicles @shelikestv @sinnabonka @sourpatchdean @spnsmile @smiledean @seraphcastiel @soleeryx @subbydean @tearsofgrace @teamfoundfamily @theedorksinlove @thatisahotsoup @ultravioletcas @valleydean @waywardism @winchester-reload @winchestergifs @xofemeraldstars @yelenasbelovaas @you-cant-spell-subtext-without @saltyghostsworld @plantdadcas @sammy-501 @dtadeancas @subtledean @kaz2y5baby @angelic-bee-enthusiast @gardenforcas @bimiserables @gabrielle-main @highkey-dysphoric @lila-tom @teddybluesclues

#sorry guys! original post got messed with the links and I can't fix them....so just decided to make another oner of archive purposes((#don't mind me))#destiel fanfic #spncreatorsdaily #destiel fanfiction #destiel fix it #destiel #dean winchester #castiel #destiel poetry #anz writes stuff and things #fic tag

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latenightdecaf · 3 years

Text

Entry 7 - Summer of Vulnerability

part of let the pile of good things grow series - series masterlist

previous entry here

Yoongi x reader

Ft. nonidol!bts (glimpse of ex-boyfriend!namjoon)

Producer!yoongi, roommate!yoongi, soft!yoongi

slow burn romance, friendship, slice of life

series of drabbles/one shots

warnings: alcohol consumption

a/n: okay so here goes y/n remembering his ex!joon also will never get over of in the soop yoongi! can’t wait for the new season. Thank you guys for reading! 🙈

word count: 2,546

Went home from the grocery and some of their wines are on sale so you got carried away and bought 8 bottles and to your surprise, Yoongi’s cooking steak. “oh my God!” You exclaimed as soon as you saw him cooking in the kitchen with paperbag of wines in your arms. Yoongi looked at you with a confused face.

“Did you just read my mind or what??! There’s a sale on the corner deli and…” raising both of your hands as if surrendering, “okay don’t judge me yet but i got a little carried away.”

“A little carried away? You looked like the world’s going to run out of wine tomorrow.”

He smiled on your disclaimer and shaking his head as he paid his attention back to his steak.

“No.” You sighed. “Nothing went my way today, not at all—but i dont want to think about it. I’m psyching myself out of it you see, or better yet i’m drowning myself on these babies.” As you drank your first glass empty. “My eternal companion, the love of my life…”

He turned to your direction, only to see you hugging the bottles of wine that you bought.

“Come on clear the tables, your babies are not going anywhere.” He declared as he puts down 3 steaks and some aglio olio with honestly way too much garlic because it’s Yoongi.

“I didn’t saw you made pasta also. I am so happy now.” You happily exclaimed as you took a bite of your new favorite steak. “But why the 3 steaks? You hungry?”

He sat in front of you, filling your glass with wine and his too.

“You need food before you chug them all up. I’m not gonna clean up your mess. So you better get it together today. I tell you.” He scolded you.

“Sure sure.” As you immediately devour the pasta he made.

One bottle of wine down. He let you listened to a ‘sketch’ he’s been working on lately. Carefully studying your already flushed face for any reaction. He does this sometimes, ask for your opinion even though you have zero idea about music and producing or anything related to that for that matter.

All he considers is whether you winced at the melody of it, or you nod and eventually smile as it goes. But this time you’re just staring blankly in your wine glass, circling it repeatedly as the sketch ended at exactly 2 mins and 19 secs. And when it ended you looked straight at him.

“This looks like it’s almost done right?” You commented. “Yeah.” As he gulps on his wine, emptying another glass.

“And you wrote the lyrics also?” He nodded.

You looked away and sighed. “It’s too beautiful—Sad and in pain, feels tormented also but beautiful.”

He blinked several times at your words. You’ve heard several of his sketches before and you’d just always say, ‘it sounds good, but Yoongi—i have no idea about music. Zero.’ But he’d let you hear it anyway for couple more times and he’d smile at your ignorant reactions.

This time however, doesn’t seem like a laughing matter. Something about your words got his heart beating faster and he has no idea if its just the amount of alcohol he has consumed by now or just you.

You clinked on his empty glass. And asked, “You want more?” He nodded. And you poured him another. “Remember the girl, I introduced to you before?” You stopped and think for a second and it dawned to you. “Hell yeah, I remember.”

“She’s actually my ex-girlfriend.” He declared.

“Well that I did not expected. The ex part. I can tell though she looks really special.”

“Well, we’re together for a while. But now we’re just co-workers for this debut song of a girl I told you about before. That’s why she was here also the last time, we were looking through old sketches that I have after the meeting. We actually finished that quite early. ”

He never really talked that much about himself. He’s good at talking about work, which for you is already more than enough. You know that despite your living situation, he’s not really obligated to get personal if he doesnt want to. And besides, you also don’t want to. Your end of the rope for sure is scared of any form of vulnerability anyway—so you’re not expecting or demanding that from anybody else.

“So you’re just co-workers now?”

“Yeah, I think so. I really don’t know what I feel.”

“Well, relationships are messy my friend.” Raising your glass of wine as if to cheers and chugging it in one go.

Not sure of what to say next but he looks like he’s in mood to talk but the topic looks too sensitive to even crack a joke so you continued drinking despite the eerie atmosphere.

“If you dont mind me asking, what happened?” Yes, despite your immense effort to hold yourself back. Like any other novel you read, you have this eager feeling to know how it ends. Your mind is literally shouting, ‘But I gots to know!!’

And so you asked. Half fearing for your life for being too nosy and half expecting that you might be up for a good story. Elbows resting on the table, with your chin at the palm of your hand looking eager to hear the story.

“We’ve been together for a while”

“Yeah, you said that already.. and that she’s a song writer. I figured.” Unconsciously saying your thoughts out loud.

“You wanna tell the story instead?” He teasingly reacted in a straight face.

“I didn’t mean to say that out loud… I literally said that in my mind and my mouth just burst it open. They both can’t coordinate that well. I’m sorry. You may continue…sir. Please don’t cut my head off.” You love teasing him.

“You’re drunk.” He was pointing out the obvious by that time, after two bottles of wine.

“Yes she’s a songwriter. They said before thay she’s the words to my melody. Well… before.”

Something about those words just made your heart ache. Frowning in his words you continue to listen.

“We’re together for about 2 years? And then on and off after…. She cheated on me, slept with another producer from another company. I really thought that was the end but after that i still accepted her. I don’t know why.”

“Aigoo you dumbass solider of love. And then??” Continuously frowning in frustration led you to keep on drinking.

He has no plans of actually telling this story tonight, it just poured out. You’re just one of those people that actually listens. He has seen you before, how intensely you focus on a movie or in a book that it bothers you for day. You love hearing stories and your willingness felt like a safe space for his unspoken scars.

“She keeps coming back to me and I keep accepting her. That’s it.”

With a confused look on your face, “I don’t get it.”

“Like you said, relationships are messy.” He’s obviously trying to close the topic already but that’s not going to stop you—you never stop midway of the story. This is not how it ends.

“Messy is one thing, toxic is another. And since when are you a coward? You don’t strike me as one. Really.” ‘Yeah i was.’ Yoongi thought in his head. Words are just literally pouring out of your mouth by now, drowning yet another glass. Yoongi opening your forth bottle.

“Boy, I bought the wrong alcohol tonight, tequila would’ve been perfect.” You declared as he pours you a refill. He laughed at this comment, he kept wondering sometimes how easy it is for you to make him laugh.

“No but all kidding aside… Hard question coming in, Min Yoongi. Do you still love her?” Looking right at his eyes and him staring back at you as he answered. “No, we broke up a month before I moved in here.”

‘That’s quite a while, at least 9 or 10 months now…’ you thought to yourself

“Yeah but having been broken up doesn’t mean that love is gone. It’s not a switch you know.”

“I know. And I wish it was, she’s was a big part of my life I’m not denying that and maybe she always will be. But I’ve changed, she has changed—we’re no longer the same people that we were in the same relationship where I keep questioning my self worth. That’s done now, over. Love took a turn, and it doesn’t look the same anymore. We’re just co-workers now that’s all.”

You like the way he said it. Being no longer the same people that they were. You nodded in his statement not sure what to say next and also feeling a little dizzy.

“I gotta pee.” You suddenly declared and stood up, ran in small steps to the bathroom with Yoongi smiling at you and shaking his head.

And when you got back, he got you a warm water on your favorite mug.

Your thoughts are all over the place when you’re drunk, like you said—your mouth just spills it all out.

“You know what, this is all very brave of you. Being friends with your ex, I can’t imagine.”

“Why? Can’t you?” Staring blankly and holding onto your mug, eyes blinking fast in this question.

“I’m not sure. I’ve never really done it before, I’ll let you know if I can.”

You’ve been staring hard on your mug contemplating on his question. He gently touched your hand that’s been holding your mug and said, “Just drink your water.” And pulled it away as soon as you looked like your soul has comeback to earth.

“Can’t I…?” You repeated the question again, and this time out loud.

Hands underneath your chin and resting your elbows on the table. Yoongi is just staring at you, hands in his cheeks—thumb underneath his chin, not even sure if you can even see him. “I hate your question.” You looked at his eyes this time and said that and he just smiled and when he did, you narrowed your eyes. “I hate your smile too.” And this time, he gave you an even bigger one, those gummy smile. And whenever he smiles at you like that you just can’t help but grin in return.

You chugged the water and showed him your empty mug.

He got up and put the rest of the unopened bottle of wine back to the fridge just to prevent you from opening yet another. With his back facing you, arranging the couple of bottles left unto your fridge.

“Yoongi-ah, I know and I love how we respect each other’s privacy and all but just in case things get too heavy. I’m always here, you know. I mean, I’m really glad about today.”

He looked back at you, hands underneath your chin again and eyelids looking all heavy.

“Same goes for you, I’m always here…” And he turned his back again, “fixing you some food and light bulbs.”

And that statement made you smile. “Indeed, my friend. Indeed.”

He went back to the table and grabbed your wine glass and emptying it for you.

“So you wanna talk about how nothing went right today?” You sighed with your eyes closed.

“Maybe next time, my friend.” You stood up from the dinning table, offered to clean the rest of the dishes but Yoongi insisted that he’d do it instead. So you just nodded and slowly creep back into your room.

“Thanks for today, Yoongi.” You thanked him before you go, peeking behind the wall near the counter and he just smiled at you, cleaning gloves on and started washing the dishes.

Minutes later, you shouted from inside of your room.

“Hey i’ll be in the bathroom for a while. Hope you’re already done using it.”

Yoongi didnt answer. He’s already in his room.

You sat in the tub filled with water that is too hot for anyone else but not for you. Head all dizzy and pounding. It’s 2 am and nothing is more comforting than the silence of it all. Alcohol keeps you awake, more than coffee ever does. The dizziness, the feeling that is drilling in your head, makes it hard for you to sleep. Despite the fact that you always drink. You always drink on an empty stomach though, just so you’re sure you would pass out and not have a hard time sleeping.

But tonight you can’t say no—Yoongi made dinner and as much as you hate how you’re having a hard time now you don’t regret it. The question he said, still lingers. And you know your answer to this, you can’t.

Along with the headache, comes the memories you rarely remember—there are just some special days where somehow the guilt and regret still comes to you in waves, together with conversations you long to let go.

“You can’t be serious?” Joon said, voice cracking with hand on his hair in frustration. “But I am.” With a straight face you answered, “I can’t marry you, Joon. I don’t want to have kids and I know how much you want to have children.” Feeling the desperation in his face and actions, he held your hands close and hugged you. “I love you, I want to marry you. We don’t need to have kids immediately, that’s years away. We don’t have to even worry about that now.” It hurts you to seem him this way, yes both of you may be young—maybe you will change your mind but there’s no guarantee to it. You held onto his shoulder to see his face, tears kept rolling down his face and you keep wiping it off one by one. You’ve thought about this even just a year into the relationship, with all the dad jokes and tiny little shoes he kept in his room. He’s going to be a wonderful dad you thought—maybe not just to your kids because you don’t want one.

The most wonderful man in the world just asked you to marry him a few minutes ago, and now he’s crying on your shoulder in defeat. While you can’t even bring yourself to cry, everything about this just made you numb. You just know you’re doing the right thing. Keeping him by your side with a promise of a future you can’t guarantee is not what love is. You loved him—even much so that you could ever admit.

With the knock on the door, you went back to reality.

“Hey you in there?” His voice echoing at 2 in the morning.

“Yeah, I’ll be here still for a while. You need it?”

“No, it’s okay.” He quietly said, as you heard his footsteps getting farther away.

moodboard sr: x

#bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts imagine #bts scenarios #bts roommate au #yoongi fics #yoongi fluff #yoongi x reader #yoongi scenarios #yoongi imagine #roommate!yoongi #producer!yoongi #namjoon imagine #namjoon scenarios #exboyfriend!joon

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knivesareout · 3 years

Text

take on the world - chapter one

Pairing: Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4.8k

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, bad jokes, flirting idiots and Tom doesn’t exist.

Summary: A whirlwind romance takes you by surprise when Frankie rescues you.

A/N: Well, here is the beginning of what is going to be a BEAST of a fic. There will probably be around 8-10 chapters in total and I’m already working on the next one (aka where the smut is). I will warn you all that this is going to deal with some heavy subject matter as we go along but I’ll put up proper warnings when they come. I hope you all enjoy and you can read it on AO3 here.

INSPO TAG | CHAPTER TWO

___________

There was a special place in hell for people who set their friends up on blind dates.

This wasn’t your first, or even your fifth, blind date in the last year that you’d agreed to go on to appease a happily married friend. This time it was Jessica’s husband’s co-worker who she’d shown you a picture of and you had wearily agreed, nodding as she told you how great he was.

He was in fact, not great, as he was now 30 minutes late and counting despite the numerous texts you’d sent him.

Thankfully the bar you were currently at was only a quick 10 minute walk from your apartment, a small miracle you were glad for. Surely you could stumble back the couple of blocks to your place if you decided to drown your sorrows in shots of tequila, a couple beers, and maybe a fruity drink or two if you were feeling spendy or particularly sad.

The bar was loud and, of course, overly crowded. It was a Saturday night after all.

Most tvs around the room were playing various baseball games at top volume with the season having only started a couple weeks prior. It wasn’t your favorite sport but you knew enough to keep up, eyes fixated on the Red Sox game just to the left of you.

“Need a refill?”

A cough sounds in your ear and you turn, realizing the question was meant for you. The man who’s taken up residence on the bar stool next to you is waiting for an answer, a distressed ball cap tugged low over his face and you wish you could see him better.

“Oh,” you laugh awkwardly, glancing down at the empty pint glass and back up again. When did you finish that? “Yeah, I mean. I need one.”

The man just nods, motioning the bartender over and he wordlessly clears your glass and sets a new one in front of you as well as one in front of the man next to you.

Muttering a quiet thanks to the bartender, you turn to the man in the cap and smile. “Thanks. Didn’t even realize I’d gone through it so fast.”

The man nods with a shrug of his shoulders, a slight smile on his face. “No worries. You looked like you were sucked into the game and figured I could help. I’m Frankie, by the way.”

Giving him your name, you reach a hand for him to shake- which he does. Rough, calloused hands envelope yours in a tight squeeze before he drops them with a cough.

You realize he must’ve been watching you before, if he knew you were with an empty cup.

Normally that was something you would find creepy because you were clearly alone, or at the very least weird but for some reason it’s endearing on this guy. Frankie. Out of the corner of your eye, you try to take in his features without being obvious, his attention now turned to the same game you’d been watching only moments before.

Dark hair curls outside of his baseball cap, a dimple embedded into his cheek on the right as he smiles. Patchy facial hair covers his jawline, bits of grey catching the light as he tilts his head back to take a swig of his beer and you wonder how old he is. At first you would’ve pegged him around your age, but now getting a somewhat better look he might have several years on you.

“Were you waiting on someone?” He asks, turning to you with his voice raised. A group of men are shouting in the back of the bar near the pool table and you wince.

You nod, downing half of your beer and swiping at your mouth. “Yeah. Blind date. I should know better but I can’t tell people no and he was cute.”

Frankie just laughs at your honesty, “So he just didn’t show?”

“Yep. Never had one that just didn’t show up. Figured I might as well get drunk to commemorate the occasion. Or commiserate. Either one.” You bring your glass up to his and cheers, shaking your head incredulously.

“His loss.”

You turn to Frankie with a raised brow, lowering your glass to watch him slowly check you out. You feel hot all over and clear your throat, teeth tugging on your bottom lip.

“What about you then? Here alone or did you ditch someone?”

Frankie presses a hand to his heart, fake wounded at your jab. “You already think so little of me? I was here with friends but they bailed on me,” he explains. “Saw you by yourself and thought we could both use the company.”

His answer puts you more at ease and you finish off your second beer of the night.

“So, figure I gotta ask. How old are you?” It really doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things but if things are heading in the direction you hope they are, you don’t want to make him uncomfortable if you’re too young.

He seems startled by your question, like it’d never occurred to him to ask and he falters before answering. Did it make him uncomfortable?

“You know,” Frankie starts with a chuckle. “Normally, I’d be offended but I’m not. ‘M 42.”

Nodding, you blow out a breath that you didn’t realize you’d be holding. “Newly 30,” you tell him, bringing your refilled drink up to click against his own.

The age reveal doesn’t seem to bother him, at least from what you can tell. You’d never cursed your age before until now, hoping it hadn’t put him off.

You turn on the barstool to face Frankie, hoping to break the tension.

“So I have just one question for you, Frankie.”

He nods, turning to face you and waiting for you to continue.

You hold up a finger and place it on his jaw near his mouth, the one spot not filled up by wiry grey and black hair. His eyes are wide at your touch and he’s tense.

It was something you’d noticed right away when he sat next to you, your attention drawn to it for whatever reason. His terribly patchy facial hair was endearing.

“Why is this the perfect place for a kiss?”

The way Frankie looks when he laughs makes your heart ache in the best way. He tosses his head back, mouth wide as he tries to contain his laughter. His dark eyes crinkle, nose scrunched up at your blunt question and you retract your hand, satisfied with his response.

“How much have you had to drink?” He manages to get out between wheezing while he catches his breath.

“Couple shots of tequila while I stupidly waited. Two beers now, thanks to you,” you nod at the empty glass. “I might be drunk? It’s hard to tell, honestly. I think I’m fine.”

“So you’re just normally like this?” Frankie laughs, tilting his head. His fingers drum on the side of his almost empty pint glass, something you wonder is a nervous tick.

You push your empty glass away, hoping it’ll get the bartender’s attention and it does. Ordering Frankie another beer and a vodka cranberry for you, you turn back to him. “Guess so. If it’s too much though, I can pretend you never came over here and finish the game by myself.”

“Not what I meant,” he’s quick to tell you. “Just wanted to know what I’m getting myself into is all.”

Silently your lips tick up in a smirk and you start on your drink, turning your attention back to the game.

Over the next hour, you get to know Frankie and vice versa. He’s ex-Army; out for the last couple of years and he’s slowly getting back into the real world. Explains how he doesn’t have any family in North Carolina but all of his buddies live here, so he moved.

Frankie’s a helicopter pilot, giving city flyover tours to people coming in from out of town. He doesn’t love it but he loves flying so it’s enough for him, he tells you. You can see it in his eyes how passionate he is about flying and it makes you grin.

In turn, he asks about you. Normally you wouldn’t give up so much information about yourself to someone you don’t know all that well but Frankie has slowly started to feel like anything but and you feel guilty letting him give you so much only to get nothing in return- so you tell him. Maybe too much. About how your job working at a law firm is the most boring thing, especially when you had no interest in law. Which in turn sparks up his question- what do you want to do? That ends up setting you off on a tangent about your love of photography but how hard the industry is to break into to do it professionally or at the least get paid for it.

“Here, hang on.” You tell him, sliding your phone out of your back pocket and pulling up your Instagram. Social media was, normally, the bane of your existence but you used the app for your photos and nothing else, you tell him. He nods like he understands, telling you he isn’t much better technology wise.

Frankie’s quiet as he scrolls through your feed. He’s slow about it too, clicking on a few to see them bigger, and you bite your lip in anticipation at what he might be thinking. It’s nerve wracking to show anyone your passion and you manage to finish off your drink while he’s still scrolling, waving off the bartender as he asks if you want another.

“You’re fucking talented as shit, you know that?”

His response catches you off guard and you can instantly feel yourself getting warm at his compliment. It feels different, coming from him. A stranger who’s slowly becoming something more.

“You’ll have to let me take your picture some day,” you shoot back, kicking your dangling foot against his.

“You don’t have pictures of people on there though,” he’s quick to point out, handing you back your phone.

“Well no, but that doesn’t mean I don’t. It’s hard convincing people to hike with me is all.” Nature photography was your niche but you could already envision photographing a portrait of Frankie on a mountain with the sun illuminated behind him.

Frankie finishes off his beer and sighs loudly, turning to you with his brows raised. “Well, we’ll have to plan something then won’t we?”

You’d known that was coming and still, your stomach fills with butterflies as he all but asks you out. To see you again beyond this dark, crowded bar that smells like smoke and sweat.

“Definitely.”

Frankie asks if he can walk you home once the bar tab has been paid an hour later- he’s even covered yours too, in apology of your ruined date and unintentionally crashing your plan to wallow in self-pity afterwards.

“I’m just a couple blocks down,” you tell him, pulling your jacket tighter around your shoulders to combat the cool, spring breeze.

“No worries. Can’t complain about getting to spend a little more time with you,” he says cooly, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

The line is smooth and cheesy but it still puts a smile on your face, which you’re sure was its intended effect.

You chuckle, turning to him so he can see the roll of your eyes. “Smooth, Casanova.”

Frankie puts his hands out in front of him in defense, scoffing at your jab.

“Cut me some slack, alright. Haven’t even dated a woman in years, let alone spent hours interrupted and talking with one,” he explains, knocking his shoulder with yours.

The little touch is something weirdly intimate and you cough, looking at him with a skeptical eye.

“I find that hard to believe, Frankie,” you chuckle, “You’re a good looking guy. Can even hold a decent conversation. No dates? Really?”

He shakes his head, shrugging. “Wasn’t in the right headspace for it. And now that I am, I just so happen to meet you and who knows. Was it fate?”

You spot the teasing tone of his voice immediately and you shove him lightly as you start to approach your apartment building. “You’re an ass,” you tell him, giggling as you try and pull your keys from your pocket, fingers fumbling and they drop to the ground with a clang.

You both reach down at the same time, heads knocking together and you can’t stop yourself from laughing. Laughing so much your chest aches with it and you can’t breathe, tears pricking the corner of your eyes and you glance over and Frankie’s no better, clutching his stomach as you both sit on the ground around your fallen keys.

“We’re a fucking mess,” you manage to get out between left over laughter and catching your breath.

Frankie lets out a loud breath, trying to calm himself and he nods in agreement. Picking up the keys, he hands them to you and stands, offering you a hand that you gladly take and try to steady yourself once you’re safely back on your feet.

“You alright?” He asks, running his hands over your hair and brushing at the crown of your head. As if he’s inspecting you for any injuries and you hold your breath.

The best you can manage is a nod, eyes flicking to meet his and you search them for any sign that he’s feeling exactly what you are.

He is. Expressive brown eyes that tell you everything you need to know.

Frankie sighs, pulling his hands back from your face and groans. Kicking at the pavement and mumbling quietly to himself.

Has the moment passed? Did you not react how he was expecting?

Turning back to you, he gives you a self-deprecating smile. “We’re drunk,” he explains. His tone is apologetic and you wonder why he’s saying the words if he feels bad about them in the first place.

“Maybe a little,” you agree. “Doesn’t mean I haven’t had, what I’m sure is, a much better date than I would’ve if that guy had shown up.”

You can tell your words mean something to him. It’s like he’s got this loose energy that he doesn’t know what to do with. Like he wants to shout and scream and run down the street. It makes you want to know more about him- what he’s thinking, how he’s feeling.

Bouncing on his toes, Frankie hurriedly pulls out his phone from his front pocket and hands it to you. “I wanna see you again. Put your number in there?”

The phone is old. Flip-phone old and you laugh as you figure out how to program your number in there, adding your name along with a smiley face at the end before handing it back over to him.

“I had a really great time tonight, Frankie,” you promise him, fiddling with your keys. “Thank you for saving me from what was probably going to be a terrible night.”

“Me too,” he agrees, pursing his lips.

It’s like he’s deciding his next move and it catches you off guard when he leans in to press a kiss to your cheek.

Once there’s a fair amount of distance between you, Frankie heads down the sidewalk and waves. “I’ll call you,” he tells you, calling over his shoulder.

“You better,” you yell back.

Your grin is huge and you’re sure he can see it, even as he continues to walk backwards, watching you, and he disappears into the night.

---

Frankie calls the next day.

Phone numbers that weren’t saved in your address book were usually sent straight to voicemail but there was a nagging feeling deep in your gut to just answer it so you move to the edge of the sidewalk and out of the crowd and pick up.

“Hello?”

You catch a sigh and Frankie’s voice sounds over the speaker, bringing a smile to your face instantly. “Hey, it’s uh. Frankie. From the bar last night?”

Laughing a little, you nod to yourself. “Yeah. I remember you. Almost knocked me out when we bumped heads trying to pick up my keys.”

“Oh good,” he sounds relieved and you glance around as you wait for him to speak again, hoping the conversation was more than just chit-chat. “I know we just saw each other yesterday but I was wondering if I could see you again. Tonight maybe? If you don’t have plans. It’s fine if you do, I just thought I’d ask.”

He’s rushing through his words and you can tell instantly that he’s had to psych himself up to call you from his nervous tone through the receiver.

You don’t have plans and you’re more than eager to see Frankie again. Wondering if last night was a fluke and hoping that it wasn’t. Relationships weren’t your forte but maybe this was the exceptiontion. He was the exception.

“Yeah, I’d really like that Frankie. Just wanna meet me outside of my building around 7?” You chew on your lip nervously.

“Yeah,” he tells you. “That- that would be great. I’ll see you tonight?”

“Yeah, I’ll be there,” you chuckle. “Bye Frankie.”

“Bye.”

Suddenly thankful that you were done running your errands for the day, you headed back home with a grin on your face that didn’t seem like it wanted to leave. Cheeks aching, you wondered what and if he had anything planned.

It had been too long since you’d gone on any sort of date. A real date; something planned and thought out unlike the blind dates you were used to. Frankie didn’t seem the type for a typical dinner and a movie, and something about that idea had you even more excited to see him. Everything about the situation with him was unpredictable: the chance meeting at the bar, to the walk home where you laughed harder than you could remember. There was clearly something there between the two of you and it was exhilarating.

The rest of your day was spent cleaning and daydreaming about the night you might have with Frankie. You wondered if this was how it was supposed to feel when you liked someone. The concept was foreign to you, your relationship history basically nonexistent. Was it possible that he was just as nervous as you were?

As 7pm rolled around, a text sounded over your phone and you leaned over on the counter to see Frankie telling you he was outside. Grabbing a light coat on your way out, you took a deep breath and locked the door behind you. No turning back now.

Frankie was dressed similarly to last night. Jeans, a t-shirt and a tan jacket that looked like it’d seen better days. His hat was missing and his hair looked soft, the ends curling around his ears. You greeted him with a smile as you walked out of your building and he nodded, rocking back on his feet.

“This isn’t weird, is it?” He asks, nodding his head as you both started to walk left down the sidewalk. “The fact that we met last night and we’re seeing each other again?”

You chuckled, “It’s weird in the sense that I’ve never done this before. Any of it. But no, to answer your question. I wanted to see you again and I am, so.” Shrugging, you turn to listen to him as you both continue to walk, keeping to the side.

“Yeah, me too. I mean, I’ve met people in bars. Women. But it’s usually a one night kind of thing-,” Frankie stops himself and groans, running a hand down his face in embarrassment. “That sounds bad. Fuck.”

“Ain’t no shame in the game, Frankie. I’m not here to judge you,” you promise, pausing as you wait for the crosswalk sign to turn white so you can cross the street. “Where are we going, by the way?”

Frankie waits to answer until you’re both safely across the street and heading further into downtown, the crowds getting thicker and you push yourself against his side so as not to lose him. His arm finds its way across your shoulders to keep you close and he answers, leaning his head down closer to your ear. “There’s this bar and arcade thing down a couple more blocks that I figured we could spend some time at. Maybe head to the park after that and walk around. See where the night takes us?”

It’s easy to tell he hasn’t quite planned this out and something about that makes your heart race. He really had just wanted to see you, planning this as he goes only so you can spend more time together.

“The park can get a little murder-like late at night,” you point out with a laugh,

“That’s true. Well, we can always just see where the night takes us after we play a couple of games then if that’s alright?”

“That’s the part where you’re supposed to tell me you’ll protect me,” you poke a finger into his side and laugh. “But yeah of course, Frankie. Whatever you wanna do,” you reassure him. “I’m just along for the ride.”

The bar slash arcade was… something. You weren’t sure what you were expecting but it wasn’t what you walked into. The building was packed to the brim; loud noises, slots and different game noises sounding from every corner, and a small bar was tucked in the left corner with a tv playing what looked like The Shining above it.

“Have you been here before?” You raise your voice, balancing yourself on his shoulder to get closer to his ear.

He nods shouting back, “Yeah, once. Came with a couple of buddies of mine. They’ve got some cool retro games in the back that we used to play as a kid. Everyone loves air hockey too, right?”

You can see the air hockey table he’s referring to. The black light makes everything under the table glow and it reminds you of the arcades off of food courts that most malls used to have. The skeptical feeling you had when walking in seems to fade away and suddenly you’re excited, wondering why you hadn’t been here before when it was so close to your apartment to begin with.

“Once the table clears, I wanna play,” you say, tugging Frankie towards the back where you see a racing game that looks familiar.

Frankie exchanges a few bills for tokens while you hold the two racing games and once he’s slid in the appropriate amount, it’s immediately turned into a competition.

As the screen starts to countdown to your race, you turn to him quickly with a proposition. “If I win, you buy me a beer.”

“I was gonna buy you one anyway,” he tells you, shaking his head as if he’d do anything less. “But alright. If I win, you have to give me a kiss right here.”

He annoyingly points to the empty spot on his jaw where his facial hair didn’t seem to grow, that you had drunkenly pointed out the night before, and you can’t help the loud bark of laughter that escapes your lips as you quickly nod. “Deal.”

You’re almost tempted to lose once the race starts, just so you can kiss him there. But deep in your gut you feel like there’ll be plenty of opportunities to kiss him there in the future so you don’t hold back. The routes feel familiar as you and Frankie virtually drive through them and you’re sure you’ve played this game before, years ago.

As you both reach the last lap and the finish line, you just barely win and pump your fists as you cross. The screen declares you the winner in big font, a trophy spinning in circles and you turn to Frankie. “So, about that beer.”

You two end up at the bar for a little over an hour. The barstools surrounding the area are a hot commodity and once you and Frankie are sat down, you’re reluctant to give them up, especially with the bartender keeping your drinks filled without having to ask.

Frankie tells you about his friends. Benny, Will, and Santiago. How they’ve kept him going since returning back to civilian life. He says they’re all one big support group to each other, knowing that even if it feels like there’s no one you could count on, one of them is always around. There’s a tightness to his voice when he talks about them, like he can’t believe his luck that he has such supportive friends. The clear despair on his face has your chest aching, and you squeeze his hand in comfort.

It makes you yearn for a friendship like that. Most of your friends are married and it’s harder to relate to them when you’re single and living in the city while they’re still living in your hometown with a couple of kids. You tell Frankie as much and he sympathizes and points out that you have at least one friend in the city now, shaking off the emotions of such a heavy conversation.

“Looks like the air hockey table is free,” you nod, seeing the table free for the first time that night.

Frankie nods, standing up to grab his wallet. “You grab the table, I’m gonna close out the tab.”

You quickly walk over, grabbing the two handles and knock a few tokens into the machine when the lime green puck pops out. Frankie joins you a few seconds later, grabbing his handle and standing opposite you.

“So, what are we competing for this time?”

You think for a moment, “Well, I don’t think I need another drink. What about if I win, you have to cook me dinner sometime this week? Maybe Wednesday?”

Frankie seems taken aback by your suggestion but readily agrees. “I can do that. And if I win, you have to cook me breakfast Thursday morning.”

His offer isn’t lost on you and you toss the puck onto the table with a smirk as the air starts to push it around. “You’re on.”

The match is filled with trash talk as you two play. You even manage to gather a small crowd of people around you, cheering you both on. It’s close. For every point you get, Frankie’s one step behind you. Your wrist is starting to ache and the countdown starts on the side, signaling the end of your game in the next 30 seconds.

“You’re gonna lose, Frankie,” you taunt, scoring another point and he tosses the puck back on the table and shoots it towards you as you block it, sending it back across the table.

Except you lose. By a point.

There are cheers for Frankie and slaps on the back as another couple takes over the table and you both move to the side to watch.

“I can’t say I’m all that mad that I lost,” you tell him honestly, glancing up and locking your eyes with his own deep, brown ones.

“It was kind of a win-win for both of us either way,” he agrees, nudging his arm with yours. “So, another date Wednesday night?”

You nod quickly, “Sounds perfect.”

--- Frankie walks you home a few hours later.

After the arcade, you both grab slices of pizza from a small place down the block and walk around, grease staining your fingers and tongues burnt from being so hungry.

Most people are tucking themselves back into their beds at the late hour, your watch showing it was coming up on 2am as you both approach your building.

“A successful first date, I think,” you turn to him, arms wrapped around yourself as the wind turns cold around you. You sniff as your nose starts to drip, scrunching it up and Frankie laughs.

“I think you’re right,” he agrees, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you against chest in a hug.

You savor the warmth as you press your cheek against him, then turn your head. “I should go inside. And you should head home, it’s so fucking late.”

Untangling yourselves, Frankie shoves his hands into his pockets and knocks his arm against yours. “I’ll see you Wednesday?”

Nodding quickly, Frankie shoots you a smile and turns, jogging across the street to where his truck is parked.

It’s like seeing him walk away pushes something inside you, itching to see him just once more and you call out to him quickly before he can get in his truck, “Frankie! Wait! I forgot something!”

He turns to watch you run across the street as he stands in front of the driver’s side door, looking at you curiously once you’re stood in front of him.

“What did you forget?”

“This.” And you lean over to press a kiss to the bare spot along his jaw, the sparse hair around it tickling your lips and you pull away with a grin.

Turning to glance both ways before crossing the street you call behind you, “Goodnight Frankie!”

NEXT CHAPTER

#frankie 'catfish' morales #frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie 'catfish' morales x reader #triple frontier fic #tom doesn't exist lmao #my writing #take on the world

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diofasolia · 3 years

Text

{Always}

{Shattered! Dream x Reader}

Shattered! Dream by @shattereddreamsau

Writings by me

Today (8/7) is Shattered! Dream's birthday and I decided to post a writing I did last year—which is also the reason why I eventually join in the tumblr

Because back when I wrote this story, I found Dark Cream comic, which made by amazing @zu-is-here

Her creations give me the inspiration for the writing

The story is long (it has like 2000 words in it) and may be a bit cheesy, but I'll be happy to know if you read the whole thing (◡ ω ◡)

******

Before the story start, I want to ask you a question.

Do you believe that the worst person can change?

Oh! How awkward, sorry, I ask the wrong question.

What I meant to ask is—

Do you believe that the best person, the kindest person in the world can change?

Maybe…all it needs is a tiny push?

The harsh whipping hits in my abdomen again. I kneel on the ground, thinking how deep the scar might be from that blow.

"What're you doing!? Look at your king when I'm talking to you! Such a piece of useless trash!!"

"I apologized, My Lord."

Raising my bruised neck, I gaze at the former guardian of positivity. Those eyes that used to hold the tenderness, now only fill up with hatred.

"Where're those fricking basters!? I told you to track down my brother and other Sanses!"

"I'm sorry, My Lord. They escaped. I can't find where their location is–"

Not even waiting for my sentence finished, another powerful punch land on my face. I watch as a tooth fall out of my mouth. Blood dripping down my chin.

"Worthless! Can't even do a little task like that!"

Multiple kicks and insults throw at me. The numb feeling slowly occurs in my torso as I curling up into a ball.

Closing my eyes, the memories from the past arises in my mind, bringing me back to the day that I seal my fate.

"Dream? Earth to Dream!"

"(Y/N)? What's wrong, love?"

"What's wrong? I've called your name for five times! But you didn't answer to me."

Dream scratches the back of his skull, looking a bit embarrassed.

"Is that so? I'm sorry, (Y/N)! It won't happen again, I swear!"

I cuddle Dream close, letting out a giggle.

"It's fine! I don't really mind it. But Dream, you tend to space out recently. Is there something on your mind? You can tell me everything, you know that, right?"

Giving me a kiss on the cheek, Dream smiles gently. He assures me that there's nothing to worry about. It’s just the task of guardian makes him a little exhausted.

"Well, if that's the case, go on and get some rest! I will inform you if something was up."

"Okay! Thanks, (Y/N), I'm glad I have you by my side."

"Me too, my dreams and hopes."

It's been quiet in Dream's room. He must be very tired. I knock on his bedroom door, telling him to wake up.

"Dream, I know you're tired. But you still need to eat."

"Dream? Are you awake yet?"

There's no answer.

Guess I’ll have to get into his room.

Yet no one is there, only an opening portal hanging in the air.

A portal leads to Dream's corrupted universe.

"I'll show you, brother. I know what you're feeling…I know what you're going through…"

"No! Dream, stop!! You don't know what you're doing!!"

Two vague voices shouting in the distance. I begin to run like my life is in danger.

What the heck is going on here?

What is this dreadful feeling?!

I'm too slow.

The half bitten black apple lay on the ground. I watch in horror as the small tendrils creeping out Dream's eye sockets. His painful screech rings in my ears.

"Dream!!!"

I reach out to him, hoping that I can comfort Dream in my arms. The positive energy…they gotta do something, right?

"What…? Nightmare! Let go of me!! I need to…to get Dream!!"

"No! You can't get near him now, (Y/N)! You'll…you'll get hurt!"

I thrash in Nightmare's hold, screaming at the top of my lungs.

"Dream!! No! Dream!!!"

"What's wrong, love?"

My teary eyes stare up, it's…Dream's voice.

But it sends an unknown coldness down my spine.

"Ahh, you're crying! Good, keep doing that."

A sadistic grin spreads on Dream's face.

"I love it."

Nightmare is already sobbing, begging for his beloved brother to come back. I walk step by step to Dream, putting on the best smile I can muster.

"My love…Dream…please, come back to me…! I love you. I know you're strong enough to resist those negative feelings…"

Dream cackles loudly. The tentacles wrap tightly around my neck, pulling me closer to him.

"Go back? To my weak self? (Y/N), when did you become stupid? Why would I do that?"

"I've already past the point of no return."

A bucket of freezing water splashes on me. I must have passed out during the abusing session.

"Wake up."

"Get clean up, we're leaving."

I pick up my sore body, stumbling across the lonely hall that me and Dream live in. There's no one here except the two of us.

"Make a choice, (Y/N). Will you join me? Or will you prefer to disobey me like my coward brother?"

"I'll go with you."

I want to weep, yet I can’t even shed a single tear. I shouldn't be upset. After all, it's me who decided to follow my corrupted lover.

Filling up the bathtub, I submerge myself in the steamy water.

"Why, (Y/N)!? Why are you side with him!? Open your eyes! Dream doesn't love you anymore. He's just using you!"

"It doesn't matter, Nightmare."

"Great job, (Y/N)! You make this AU full of despair and miseries! I always know you're my favorite soldier!"

"It's my pleasure to serve you, my lord."

I scrub my blood-stained skin, the wounds sting because of the soapy water. Some of the old gash reopened, making me yell in frustration.

"We can save Dream! Don't lose any hope, (Y/N)!"

"How? There are barely things we can do. It's over, Nightmare. Look at yourself! You transfer back because Dream shattered! How are you gonna turn him back? By let someone else eats a black apple again?!"

The white dirty bandages wrap around my mess up torso. Why am I even bother treating my injures? They sure are going to reopen soon anyway.

"No matter what you say to me, I won't change the path I've chosen, Nightmare."

"I've already gone far enough."

"I don't understand…he's hurting you, (Y/N). Are you still…in love with my brother?"

I hate it so much.

The smell won't disappear no matter how many times I wash it over and over.

I hate it.

My hair smells like those disgusting goop on Dream.

Why can't I get rid of this sickening stink!?!

Throwing the bottles at random direction, I tug my hair till I scream out.

"What's with all that noises in there!? You better finish your business soon, I'm losing my patience!"

I hate it.

"I deeply apologize for making you wait for such a long time, my lord."

I wish I can understand your pain sooner.

"Whatever, time to leave."

I'm sorry I couldn't save you.

"My lord, where are we going, may I ask?"

Dream's left eye glows in excitement.

"I find out where those sneaky scums are hiding."

With a wave of hand, Dream opens the portal leads to an unknown empty place.

No one is left out.

Nightmare, Ink, Blue, everyone's here.

"And I'm going to give them a pleasant encounter."

But today is a little different.

Then all hell breaks out.

Nightmare's starting to transform. The dark gooey substance covering up his body gradually.

The same routine as usual. Nightmare pleads Dream to stop his actions while the former guardian of positivity just laugh it off, a bit talks here and there.

"Miss me, dear brother?"

The crazy laughter of Dream rings in the air.

"Yes! Finally, things are getting interesting!"

While Dream focusing on battling with Nightmare, I have to handle the two other skeletons.

"I know deep down you don't want to fight us, (Y/N)! Let's just drop our weapons, okay?"

Ink creates a bunch of arrows, ready to launch them at Dream. I block his charge immediately, slashing Ink's arm with my sword.

My silence is always my only answer.

"No one's going to get near Dream."

I continue to attack Blue. We've already been through this conversation many times.

"How…how's this possible?!"

Dream can only defense himself from Nightmare as the latter one keeps on firing attacks. It looks like Nightmare gets more advantage of the battle.

"Seems like you can't control your tentacles very well yet, little bro."

Nightmare mocks, resulting Dream to lose his temper. He strikes at Nightmare blindly, only to receive a powerful blow in the guts.

"Dream!!"

I rush to Dream, who’s looking more exhausted than usual. From the way how he’s panting heavily, I know he's already losing too much strength to fight.

"Get away from me! I don't need your help!!"

The attack is sloppy but I didn't dodge it. Dream can beat me all he wants after I get him to safety.

Even if it means I can possibly die.

"My lord, I apologize, but we have to move to another universe again."

Dream growls at me.

"It's you who are dragging me down!!"

They're still following us.

I'm whacking to the ground in a flash. A heavy boot stamps on my ribs harshly.

The nasty cracking sound and my piercing shirek fills in the air.

"You're no longer useful to me."

I watch as Dream disappears in a portal. He doesn't even spare a glance at me. Leaving me bleeding and slowly dying on the ground.

"I've told you."

Nightmare's lurking shadow towers above me.

"Oh no, Ink! We must save (Y/N)! She's…!"

Ink put a hand on Blue's shoulder, shaking his head solemnly.

"We can't, Blue. Remember, our priority is to capture Dream."

"Please, Night…"

I find myself pleading to Nightmare.

"Don't…kill Dream…"

"You and I both know that's an empty promise, (Y/N)."

Three skeletons begins to move towards the portal that opens by Ink. Before they leave, Nightmare whispers in a quiet voice but loud enough for me to catch.

"…he's in Dreamtale."

How much will you sacrifice for protecting your fallen love?

"You really are dumb. You know that?"

"Or you're just enjoy me breaking you apart bit by bit?"

"Don't you scare of your own nightmares?"

"I deserve it."

"I'm already living with it."

"You will always be my fading dreams."

"It's my own redemption."

"Surrender now, Dream. Then we can put an end to this whole mess."

My time is running out.

"Heh, I thought you know me well, dear brother. You should get the answer by yourself now."

"…goodbye, my poor little brother.

I pray to you, God. Let me see him one last time.

I can't save him the last time.

It's always a miracle how accurate the portal can lead to.

"(Y…Y/N)?"

This time, I'm going to save Dream.

There's no pain anymore.

"…at least…you……say my…name……one…last……time…"

Crimson blood drips down my penetrated torso. I think I see Dream's crying. But that might be just my own tears.

Forgive me, Dream.

My collapsing body falls forward, landing on the soft grass surface before me.

(3rd pov)

"Nightmare, I need your assistance."

"I thought we're enemies now."

"There's a method I want to try. It might succeed to bring Dream back."

"Well, I'm here to listen."

"She's just a tool."

"Nothing else."

"Because I know him well. The extreme emotion is the only possible way to get things right again."

Dream mutters to himself like a broken recorder. Staring the wrecking body of yours, his non-existent heart begins to hurt.

"I refuse! That's too dangerous! You surely will be dead in this terrible plan! Besides, how can you so sure he'll behave like you predict!?"

"It's worth it. I'm doing this for the whole alternate universes, and him."

"But…you…"

"Wake up! I demand you to wake up now! (Y/N)!!"

"It's not…worth for your own life."

"Don't pity me. Pity for the one who can't help himself in his own nightmare."

"Wake up."

"Don't leave me…alone, (Y/N)…please…my love…"

Ahh, it must be the time when he transfers into this horrible creature.

Nightmare, who’s now in his uncorrupted form, widening his eyes.

"…congratulations, (Y/N). Your suicidal plan…works."

Dream doesn't recall when’s the last time he breaks down.

No one dare to speak a word, except Dream drowning in his own pitiful cries.

"Always."

"I don't understand…he's hurting you, (Y/N). Are you still…in love with my brother?"

You look at Nightmare with a smile, replying to him like it's the only correct answer in your mind.

#my writings #solia's writing #shattered dream #shattered!dream #dream #shattered dream × reader #sans x reader #sans x y/n #ink #blue(underswap sans)#nightmare #fanfic #I think Shattered is kind of a special character me #hope you guys enjoy the reading uwu #tw violence #tw angst #tw death #tw a bit abuse mention

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thefanficmonster · 3 years

Text

Finally, You’re Back

Part 1: ‘There You Are’

Karl Heisenberg (Resident Evil 8: Village) x Reader (Gender Neutral)

Warnings: Mentions of Injury and Human Experimentation, Insecurity, Swearing, Spoilers for RE8

Genre: Angst, Romance, Some Humor and Fluff too

Summary: And there they are, back in that village half a decade later to retrieve what’s theirs but unaware of what they’ll find in place of what they remember.

Requested by one Anon and the idea was modified by another Anon, so thank you both so much for sharing your creativity with me, it’s really been a huge honor to write a fic inspired by such a beautiful idea. Love you both! 💕

If again is what he hoped and prayed for, why is he damning it now Why does he resent himself for having hope When he previously wished nothing but to have it Why does their presence hurt When it used to heal him Why do they remind him of how much of a monster he is When previously they were the only one making him human Why is he worthy of their presence When he’s only become worse They upheld their promise But the person they are coming back to is no longer alive He’s taken his place and he hates himself for it He’d kill himself to get him back He’d do just about anything Just to prevent those eyes from seeing them differently Just so he can greet them with open arms and say:

“Finally, you’re back“

But as of now all he can say is:

“You’re back, but the one you’re searching for will never return“

He was made aware of their presence the day of their arrival in the village. He knew all about their venture, going around the village asking for him to be looked at with terror by the villagers they came across. He watched as all the people refused to tell them his whereabouts, claiming they didn’t know or they couldn’t tell. No matter what bribery or convincing method Y/N tried to use, the villagers refused to stand down from their determined ground.

They refused to give up though, going against his prayers that they would. They might have felt discouraged but they never, not even for a second, thought to give it up. Never did they even consider forgetting him as an option. It’s been half a decade and they still remember him, they still have the will to look for him despite all the time that has passed, despite the odds that aren’t in their favor, despite the lack of help from anyone.

They keep going, keep trying. They keep driving the sword deeper into his chest, piercing his heart.

If only they could accept me like this. If only they could look at a monster the same way they looked at that boy they met five years ago...

His mistake, although blatantly obvious even to him, is not something he’s willing to correct. He doesn’t want to give them a chance. And the answer to the question many - even he himself - would ask ‘why’, that answer he doesn’t want revealed.

Because he knows it and would do anything in his power to keep it from swimming to the surface.

The answer? - It’s because he’s afraid. Terrified really.

What of? That’s the part he’s not sure about. Is he afraid of them being scared, disgusted and repulsed by him? Or is he afraid of the complete opposite - that they won’t bat an eye at the change he’s undergone. That latter option leaves him with a bitter taste in his mouth, his stomach turning. He doesn’t believe he deserves that reaction, after all he’s done, after becoming the monster he is now, he’s done his best to not even think about them - attempts that have failed miserably. Not a day has gone by that they haven’t been on his mind. He thought getting rid of the dog tag necklace - the promise - would cleanse his system of their memory that’s etched itself so deeply within his mind and soul but his hands refused to cooperate when his brain kept telling them to lift that necklace off his neck. He couldn’t do it, and he hated himself because of it for a while, but if he’s being honest he felt more relieved than anything else. He doesn’t want the only real memory, the only pleasant memory of his human days gone. He doesn’t want to wipe Y/N from his mind, they’re the only thought that still sends his heartbeat speeding in a positive way. He knows he’s a coward for what he does, hiding in the shadows and watching them waste their time with the villagers who think they are downright insane for going around looking for Karl Heisenberg whom the entire village knows as Lord Heisenberg. Not using his title each time they ask never fails to bring a smile to his face. It’s a relief that they at least have a nice picture of him that has stuck with them. And if it’s up to him, that’s the picture that will remain, they won’t see him like this, this new him won’t replace the old him in their mind. He’d do anything to make sure of it.

That being said, you can imagine the massive shock and mini heart attack he experienced one day when his motion detectors picked up on someone entering the factory in broad daylight. Rushing to the camera display, the briefest glimpse was enough to make out who this foolish person looking for their death was.

Goddammit, Y/N!

It was no longer a danger to his sanity, their presence at the factory was an even worse danger for them. His creations wouldn’t think twice about slicing their tiny frame in half with their implemented chainsaws, designed to do exactly what he’s hoping they won’t get the chance to do this time. Running to the elevator, all he can do is silently pray he reaches them before they come across one of his minions.

What he’s going to say to them? How he’s gonna greet them? He hasn’t got the slightest clue, all he knows is that he has to get to them asap.

Running out of the elevator once it settles on the ground floor, he almost crashes directly into them, eyes wide with shock as the adrenaline is still pumping throughout his body despite the immense amount of relief he feels wash over him. He doesn’t notice at first, but when he does his heart sinks: their gaze is empty and their face unreadable. He can’t bear to have them looking at him like that, it hurts more than physically hitting him. Hell, it hurts more than the experiments Miranda did to him.

“How’d you find me?“ He decides to end the silence for his sanity’s sake, his heart heavy and aching in his chest.

They shrug, “Wasn’t easy, I’ll have to admit, you’ve trained the villagers well, none of em wanted to give me even a clue.“ They give him a small smile before looking around at the factory walls and everything lining them, “And then I put it together on my own. It was a bit of a stretch...“ they trail off, their eyes scanning him from head to toe, “...but I see it was a lucky one.“

He can’t help but huff, more out of disgust for himself than anything else, “If you call this lucky you’ve gotta have a few screws loose.”

Much to his surprise, this remark earns him a genuine, wholehearted laugh from Y/N, “Oh Karl, didn’t you pick up on my loose screws back when we first met? That’s odd, people usually take one look and can already tell.”

He scoffs, letting a small smile slip onto his face before he chases it away, forcing himself to maintain the seriousness, “I can’t believe how foolish you are. Didn’t you, even for a second, think there was maybe a good reason why people didn’t want to give you my whereabouts?”

“Oh I didn’t need to think about it!“ They say, lifting a pointer finger in the air as if to emphasize their point, “They were pretty clear when they were calling you stuff like ‘monster’ and ‘cruel Lord’ or whatever.“

Heisenberg’s eyes widen in an instant, “So you knew? You knew I was...I wouldn’t be the same as you remember me?” He asks, his jaw almost reaching the floor.

They nod nonchalantly, “I mean, I was sure of that part, it’s been half a decade, after all. Of course, I didn’t expect such a drastic change but it changes nothing. The villagers made it all sound super scary and dramatic...”

Karl doesn’t get confused often. However, right now, they’ve got him completely flabbergasted. “You were told about me...about me being what I am and you still showed up and walked into this place everyone fears like you own it? Where the fuck is your self-preservation instinct?!”

With an eye-roll, Y/N pushes past him, entering the elevator and walks over to the buttons to choose a floor, “Up your ass, Heisenberg. Right next to the stick that’s got you in such a foul mood. Is this how you welcome back an old friend?” Though the words themselves were harsh, they spoke them in such a way and with a sincere look in their eyes that they had the complete opposite effect of what they’d usually have. Hell, he wants to laugh at the vocabulary on its own, it’s so refreshing to hear someone use those terms and speak so freely around him, unfazed by his powers. To be fair, they’re probably not even aware he has any.

Looking at them now, their intense gaze telling him loud and clear that they’re completely unfazed, has him going soft. They’re still his connection to the humanity he’s lost, he’s still clinging onto it thanks to them. And while he still believes he doesn’t deserve to preserve any last piece of it, he’s glad that he’s not the judge of that. The punishment is not his to decide. It’s theirs. And who knows, allowing him to keep a tiny fragment of his humanity may be the ultimate punishment but he doesn’t know it yet. Regardless, he’s happy with it as long as it means he has them by his side to carry said punishment out.

When all they get in response to their words is a laugh they too let a smile lighten up their features, “There you go, knock some humor into you.” They turn to look at the buttons briefly before locking their gaze onto him once again, “I like what you did with the place. Care to show me around?”

He shakes his head as his laughter dies down, “You won’t like it.”

Y/N rolls their eyes yet again, “Leave that up for me to decide, old man.”

A frown comes across Heisenberg’s face, “Old man? How dare you?”

The sound of their laughter almost manages to wipe the frown off his face. Almost. “Old man who can pull off even a century old dog tag necklace.” They say, sizing up the necklace resting over his chest which he automatically reaches out to touch as a result of her remark. “You can keep it, by the way. I don’t need it back. I’ll be sticking around for some time after all.”

Before he can even process what they said, they’ve pulled him into the elevator and pressed the button for the top floor, looking out of the open side of it to be able to see the inside of the factory as the metal box keeps climbing, carrying them with it. Their back is turned to him so he can’t see the look on their face but he can only hope it’s not one of horror or disgust. If he were to receive that look from them his heart would shatter on the spot. So he’d rather they don’t turn around - both for him not to be able to see them grimacing and so they can’t see him staring at them with that look in his eyes.

Look of adoration he’s never given anyone before nor will he ever give to anyone else. And so, all the pieces of his soul have found their proper spots.

Thanks to Y/N.

Finally, you’re back.

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cagestark · 3 years

Text

A Hole In the Head//8

About this: 4.5k. Smoking. Alcohol. Mention of wounds, healed (burns specifically). Masturbation. Threatening as foreplay. Typical winterspider stuff. Daddy kink.

Hours later finds Peter still staring upwards, only the ceiling blocks his view of the stars. Most nights he crawls into bed naked (or ends up that way thanks to his lover). It’s more comfortable that way, his sensitive skin against the high thread count sheets. But Peter doesn’t hold much hope that he’ll sleep at all tonight, so instead he dons one of Tony’s dress shirts pulled from the laundry basket, pressing his nose to smell the fading cologne whenever his heart starts racing.

The bed is far too big for one man. Far too empty.

Peter picks up his phone and opens a message to Bucky. Come lay with me. Even though it’s two in the morning, Bucky’s response is almost instant, a bullheaded, No, that Peter can almost hear in the man’s rasping, no-nonsense voice.

No fucking, Peter promises. He sends the message, but his thumbs hesitate over the keyboard, fluttering anxiously before he decides that nothing ventured will mean nothing gained. I can’t sleep, he admits. Help distract me?

In a few moments, the bedroom door opens a fraction and Bucky’s figure is there. He’s wearing sweatpants and an undershirt, hair mussed like maybe he was laying in bed the next room over just like Peter. The sight of him makes Peter’s heart flit upwards to his throat. He’s much more aware of his own outfit: nothing but one of Tony’s shirts and the softest boxer-briefs.

“No fucking,” Bucky mutters.

Peter crosses his heart.

The snort Bucky gives shows just how much he thinks of Peter’s promise. The armchair is still beside the bed where Bucky left it earlier. Peter had thought about pushing it back to the spot in the corner, but a part of him likes the new spot for it. It was a fond reminder of the man who had just sat it in hours before and who was there again now. Maybe it was time to redecorate—call it fengshui.

Peter settles in amongst the blankets and sheets still smelling of Tony’s scent. With his lover miles away, this is the most contentment he can find. Against his will, he feels the sting of exhaustion at the back of his eyes, the tender ache relieved only for a moment when he blinks.

“Can you believe I don’t know anything about you,” Peter says, resting one hand beneath his cheek on the pillow.

Bucky shrugs one shoulder—the one without the terrible scarring. “Not much to know.”

“You’re the Winter Soldier,” Peter says with no small amount of awe in his voice. The way Bucky’s shoulders tense at the title isn’t lost on him, but by then the words are already tripping their way out of his mouth. “You must have plenty of stories you could tell—”

“They aren’t bedtime stories.”

Peter winces. Maybe Bucky has a point. “Then just tell me about Bucky Barnes. What’s your middle name?”

The man’s mouth twitches, his eyes glinting in a way that makes Peter feel like the butt of a joke. All at once, the expression is neutral again as Bucky says: “Don’t worry about it.”

“Oh man,” Peter says with vicious glee. “It must be awful, then.”

“Terrible,” Bucky agrees.

“What’s your favorite color?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know? Pick one.”

“Pick one for me.”

Peter sighs. “That’s not how favorites work.”

Bucky stares at him, solemn. “It’s not how I work, kid. I’m not that kind of man.”

“Your favorite color is blue, now,” Peter says. “I’ve decided.”

Bucky rolls his eyes in answer.

“You said you lived in Russia. Were you born there?”

“No.”

When the man doesn’t elaborate, Peter presses. “Where were you born?”

“The west.”

“I’m sorry, the west? That’s not a satisfactory answer.”

“What do you want me to say?” Bucky asks. “I’m wanted internationally. Telling you anything about me could get me killed one day, or—”

“Or?”

“Or it could get you killed,” he says, expression dark. “I have powerful enemies.”

“Powerful allies, too,” Peter points out. “Not that I can imagine anyone ever getting one over on you.”

“It’s happened before.” Bucky’s hand comes up to trace at his shoulder along the mottled scars that circle the shoulder joint. With the attention drawn to it, Peter allows himself to look. The skin is heavily textured, shiny pink in some lights and a dark purple in others. Fresh, he thinks. Maybe a few years old. During Tony’s employment, he thinks. “I’m human, kid.”

“Does it hurt?” Peter asks.

Another one-armed shrug.

“Is the person who did that—are they dead now?” A slow, mirthless smile stretches across Bucky’s face; an answer in itself. Peter finds himself mirroring it. “Good.”

Without a further thought, Peter throws the blankets off of his bare legs. Bucky’s eyes flicker over them: pale and soft with dark, sparse hair, gaze lingering on Peter’s glossy clear-polished toes. When Peter crawls towards that side of the bed, Bucky’s chin ducks down like he’s preparing for a physical attack, though the way his eyes shimmer like molten mercury makes Peter think it wouldn’t be altogether unwelcome.

Peter opens the bedside drawer on Tony’s side of the bed. Tony’s personal handgun is gone, which makes it easy to rifle through the condoms and lube to find the half-empty tube of cream the older man had received from the dermatologist.

“Come here,” Peter says, patting the bed.

“Why?” Bucky asks, eyes narrowed at the tube in Peter’s hands. “No fucking.”

“No fucking!” Peter says. It takes all the mental fortitude he has not to roll his eyes. Who could have imagined that an international assassin would be such a prude? “Tony—he’s got a scar too. They gave him this cream that he was supposed to rub on it three times a day to help the scar tissue break down and lighten, but he’s too fucking busy for that.”

“And I’m not?”

“You’re with me two-thirds of the day,” Peter says, opening the tube. He squeezes out a generous amount of pale colored cream onto his fingers. “And I’ve got nothing better to do.”

When Bucky makes no move to come to the bed, Peter lets his legs dangle over the edge, reaching out to where the man sits at the bedside, but before his fingers can come close to Bucky’s shoulder, the man flinches backwards, catching Peter’s wrist in a fierce grip.

“Don’t,” Bucky rasps. “You don’t have to touch it.”

“Is that what you’re worried about?” Peter scoffs. The grip around Peter’s wrist tightens to the point of pain before going slack again, Bucky’s thumb pressed against his pulse point which must be hammering. “When will you learn that there’s not a person in the world who could make me do something I didn’t want to do?”

After a long moment, Bucky lets go.

Gentle, Peter lets his fingers trace over the ring of scars. It lacks the clear edges of Tony’s stab wound; if Peter had to guess (which he doesn’t, he doesn’t have to think at all about what gave Bucky those scars, about how badly it must have hurt, about how long it must have taken him to heal), he would say that the scars look like burns.

The scars don’t have the same texture as the surrounding skin, no softness, no stretch. Peter rubs the cream in with the utmost care, working hard not to cause any pain. He coaxes Bucky’s arm to shift so that he can reach the scars that extend towards his armpit and then stands, t-shirt touching his thighs to walk around the other side of the man and make sure every inch of tissue receives the same attention.

“I hate this.” Bucky’s voice makes him jump, jerking him from where he’d become lost in his own thoughts and in the pleasant monotony. His hand freezes, but Bucky goes on: “I hate the way I am around you.”

“Nobody said you had to be such a hardass,” Peter says. He reaches out and gathers Bucky’s hair where it’s falling onto his shoulder and getting stuck in the cream. When his fingers brush the back of the man’s neck as he brushes the hair to the other side of his head, Bucky shivers.

“That’s how I’m supposed to be,” Bucky rasps. “I hate how you make me so—”

Bucky cuts himself off and Peter waits one endless moment before he prods the other man. “So?”

“Weak.”

Peter isn’t sure what to say. There’s a queasiness in his stomach. He remembers when things started to get serious with Tony, when his older lover had explained that affection was weakness. There’s a reason why cold men make it so far. When you fall in love with something, it becomes a part of you, an extension of you. Suddenly, you’re taking up more space in the world, Tony had said. The man had turned his hand into a makeshift gun, pressing the barrel of his pointer finger to his temple. Bigger targets are always easier to hit, sweet thing.

He’d lifted a hand, shifting it between Tony’s finger and his head. Then, it had frightened Peter. Tony was right; love could be a liability. But after Beck, Peter knew that for people like them, that wasn’t true. Love could make him colder, braver, bolder. Strong.

When he opens his mouth to tell Bucky that, he notices that the man’s head has slackened, body loose in the chair. One glance at his face shows that he has fallen asleep.

Peter falls asleep himself, somehow. When he wakes he can see the dim signs of impending morning through the window, but the chair beside the bed is empty. He stretches, groaning with satisfaction before reaching for his phone on the nightstand to make sure that he hasn’t missed his morning Facetime with Tony.

He has a handful of unread messages from the man, which is more than he fell asleep with hours ago. Smile stretching his face, Peter opens with one hand while the other reaches down to palm his morning wood (more out of habit than anything else). When he sees the wall of text sent, eyes skimming it quickly, he squeezes his erection tightly and hisses through his teeth.

Fuck kid, Tony begins. I just finished that footage and I don’t think I’ve ever been so hard in my life. I’d kill to have been a fly on the wall, to hear whatever filth he was spewing in your ear. How did his cock feel pressed against you, honey? Looks like it felt good with the way you rutted against him like an animal. You looked like an absolute slut pinned underneath him and so desperate for whatever scraps he’d toss you. When I’m home, I want to see you suck him off and show him your gratitude properly, is that understood?

If there’s any doubt how I feel about this, see the enclosed.

Next Tony sent a video. The thumbnail tells Peter everything: just a still of Tony’s shirtless torso. He clicks on it frantically and makes it full screen, mashing the button to turn up the volume. For being in his forties, Tony looks incredible. He’d worked hard with the physical therapists hired to come to the mansion after Beck, and it shows in the flat lines of his abs. Dark hair is smattered across his chest and then against below his belly-button. The scar at the center of his chest is dark with shadows from the dim lighting.

Tony fiddles with the placement of the phone until it is propped up on what appears to be the desk of his hotel room. A glass rests just barely in view, drained. Tony sits back in his chair, the movement flexing the muscles in his core. Peter can only see him from nose to knee, but it’s more than enough. His dress pants are open, cock tenting his boxer-briefs obscenely. But he doesn’t touch it; instead, he takes a package of cigarettes from where they rest offscreen on the desk and expertly taps one free. Just the sight of his capable hands has Peter’s throat bobbing, the hand on his cock squeezing to the point of pain just to pace himself.

Tony lights the cigarette with the lighter Peter bought him at the mall, and Peter swears he can feel the flame.

“There’s no smoking in this room,” Tony says after the flame catches. “But with a sinful little thing like you at home, a fee is the least of my worries. I haven’t smoked cigarettes in over a decade, pumpkin. You see what you’re doing to me?”

Holding the cigarette in his lips, Tony reaches down to work his cock free. The sight of it evokes a physical response, Peter’s mouth salivating, his throat tightening. Leisurely, Tony fists it while his other hand comes up to take the cigarette from his mouth, smoke rushing from his nose.

“You can show this to him, if you feel so inclined. If you really think he’s interested.” The handsome, full mouth twists into a smirk. “You know I’m not shy. And if he’s going to have you, he’s going to have to get used to me, too. The things I’m going to have him do to you,” Tony sighs wistfully, shaking his head to clear the illusions. “You’ve got no idea what you’re in for. I’m going to take you apart, sweet thing, and he’s going to be the tool that does it for me.”

Peter can imagine. Beneath the sheets, he shimmies his underwear off and runs his fingers over his cock. All at once he remembers that he isn’t allowed to touch himself and his expression sours. On screen, Tony taps ash onto the desk. Peter hopes he has to pay a big fine. Huge, he thinks sulkily.

But if Peter is anything, he is resourceful. Rolling into his stomach (kicking when his legs get all twisted up in the sheets), he presses a pillow down between his legs and groans at the pressure on his aching cock. It’s juvenile, but it will work, and if Tony didn’t want him to exploit loopholes in his orders, then he shouldn’t have left the loopholes in the first place. He turns his head until his cheek is pressed into the pillow, holding the phone inches from his face.

Tony’s stamina and cool head always impress Peter. Surely it is something that comes from twenty more years of experience, but Tony always strokes his cock like he has all the time in the world, like he’s savoring the feeling of himself in his hand and cumming is secondary. His knees are spread wide, the perfect place for Peter to kneel between.

Behind him, the door opens.

He sucks in a breath, rolling onto his side to take in Bucky’s figure where he leans against the doorframe, eyes narrowed at Peter’s suspicious figure on the bed. Peter lets his back arch, emphasizing the obscene curve of his ass where he continues to rut against the pillow, leaking precum.

“Jesus, kid, it isn’t even eight AM. What the fuck has you so worked up?”

Peter grins. Holding up the phone, he says, “A gift. From Tony.”

A muscle in Bucky’s jaw twitches as if he is clenching his teeth. The otherwise unimpressed look stays on his face until Peter adds: “He says it’s for you, too.”

A normal person might react with interest, pleasure. Bucky looks as if he’s only been pushed a fraction closer to a murderous rampage. He stalks closer to the bed, boots silent against the floor. How a man with so much mass is so quiet, Peter will never know. “The fuck do you mean it’s for me?”

When he gets close enough, his eyes flit to the phone and there’s no hiding the widening of his gaze. His whole expression shudders as it struggles to return to a more neutral position, but it’s difficult when those pale eyes are glued to Tony’s tan hand where it leisurely jerks the impressive cock between his legs. Has Bucky always been this expressive, Peter wonders, or is Peter just getting better at reading the few expressions he has?

It was one thing to hear Tony’s sinful mouth yesterday on the phone, but it’s another thing entirely to be confronted with the image of it, the overt sexuality of the cigarette dangling from his lips, the way his head tilts back on screen as he draws closer to his orgasm. All this and Peter hasn’t taken his eyes off of Bucky’s face. On screen, Tony mutters, fuck kid, take it, and Bucky’s pupils dilate, and Peter is lost, the phone lax in his hand as he presses his face into the pillow until its hard to breathe, hips jerking through his orgasm.

He comes to in time to lift his head and watch Tony cum, all the muscles in his abdomen thrown into sharp definition as his hips jerk upwards into the tight circle of his fist, cum pale where it lands on his tan skin and the dark fabric of his dress pants. The groan he gives is music to Peter’s ears, one hand coming up to take the cigarette from his mouth so that he can pant properly.

“Look what you fucking do to me,” Tony sighs smoke curling from his mouth. “And nobody here to clean me up. What a tragedy. Shakespearean proportions. Next time I cum, I’m doing it down your throat, sweet thing. Be good for Bucky. I love you.”

He stands onscreen, tucking his softening cock back into his dress pants (though he leaves them undone as he reaches out and turns off the video). Peter dares to give Bucky a glance and finds him glaring at the phone. He waits to see what the other man might do, but eventually the phone screen goes dark and still Bucky stares, now at his own reflection.

He drops the phone onto the bed with a quiet thud, fingers flexing and smoothing at his jeans as if he’s trying to wipe away a filthy touch. When he speaks again, it’s with a mixture of hostility and resignation that makes Peter shiver: “He knows.”

“If you mean how obsessed you are with him, then he doesn’t. But to be fair,” says Peter, edging towards the far side of the bed just in case he decides to run for it. “You’re a little obvious.”

“Obvious?” The word comes from Bucky’s mouth sounding like a curse. He shifts on instinct until he is between Peter and the one exit. Fucking assassins. “I’ve worked for him for eight years and he never caught on. Three weeks with you and now I’m fucked. What did you tell him?”

“All I said was that I thought you had a hard-on for him!” Peter says. He pulls the blankets up, cocooning himself in soft cotton. A slip of dark fabric appears - his boxers, score! - so he works to tug them on instead. “He seemed shocked, but in a good way. Look, I don’t want to be presumptuous or anything, but I feel like this is a very natural progression given where we were heading. I don’t get why you’re freaking out.”

“You don’t understand,” Bucky mutters. He breaks from standing between Peter and the door and chooses to sit in the chair Peter is beginning to think of as his. Slumped over, he looks like the picture of dejection. He mutters something under his breath but it doesn’t sound like English.

With all the care of a man approaching a feral animal, Peter carefully slips off the bed (tugs up his boxers the rest of the way, even if there is cooling cum clinging to his well-trimmed pubes) and pads to the chair Bucky occupies. The carpet is soft and not uncomfortable to kneel on. When he tilts his head to rest it on Bucky’s jean-clad knee, the man flinches. After a long, still moment, he lets a hand come down to pat condescendingly at Peter’s head.

Rolling his eyes, Peter says, “I don’t understand. Then tell me.”

Bucky lets out a breath. He tugs on a lock of Peter’s hair until Peter turns, resting his chin on the man’s thigh to look up into his tired, uncertain face. “You want to know more about me? Tony is all that’s worth mentioning. This thing with you,” he begins. “It’s big. I’m not saying it isn’t. But this - thing - I’ve had for Tony? It’s been so long. I don’t know how to describe it. It’s formative. It made me.”

“I still don’t get it.”

“I’m still talking, aren’t I? Do I sound finished?”

“Start from the beginning.”

“You’re a bossy little shit,” Bucky mutters, flicking Peter between the eyes. “There’s going to be none of that when we’re fucking, you know that right?”

Peter grins. “We’ll see. Quit stalling.”

“About eight years ago, I reached the end of my rope. Lost my mind, a little. I convinced myself that I was being followed, that the people I worked for had put a hit out on me, and I ended up isolating myself in a tiny cabin - somewhere, don’t give me that fucking look, kid, be lucky I’m telling you this much. I was there for twenty days. Starving to death. Spiraling...then one day out of the fucking blue, Natasha called me.”

“Nat?” Peter asks, eyebrows raised. “You two knew each other?”

Bucky nods and doesn’t deign to explain their relationship any further. “She called me to say she’d been stateside for three years, working for a man she couldn’t even name over the phone. She promised that if I ever wanted a change of scenery, I could catch a plane and there would be a job waiting for me.

“I thought it was a plot. Maybe she was in on it with the others, maybe they were just trying to lure me out. Maybe there was no job, maybe as soon as I stepped foot outside, they’d have my location confirmed and they’d send someone to kill me. The no food, no water just made me more paranoid. In the end, I told myself that even if it all was a plot - if I died trying to get out - it wouldn’t matter. Who’d fucking care if I died? Not anyone I worked for. Not Natasha. Not some boss in New York City. Least of all me.

“So I caught a plane to New York, drank water out of the faucet in a bathroom at JFK International and met up with Nat. She took me to Le Cinq in downtown Manhattan, that fancy French place. Fuck, I must have looked like a nutcase walking in there, smelling like a homeless person, thin enough that a stiff enough wind could have carried me away. And there I was surrounded by all these white table clothes and maître d’s, luxury like I’d never been treated to. Then there was Tony, sitting alone at a table dressed in one of his suits but without the jacket. He stood up when he saw us coming, like some kind of gentleman in one of those old black and white movies. You know what he looks like. But it was more than that. He’s got a presence, and once I was in it, something inside me just - burst.

“We’d never even fuckin’ met. Never even spoken. But I told him that my gun was his, my skills were his, my life was his, if he wanted it. We hadn’t even sat down yet. He asked me what did I want, and I said I didn’t know. Trust, maybe. Rest, but I didn’t fucking say that. And he just smiled and said, ‘well, how about a hamburger’?”

“No,” Peter says, one hand clutching at his bare chest. “No, tell me you did not force Audric Ansel, head chef of Le Cinq, make you a fucking hamburger at the finest Parisian restaurant in the tri-state area. They don’t even have beef on the menu.”

“I didn’t,” Bucky says. He reaches out and threads his fingers into Peter’s hair, pulling to coax him to rest his head back on the man’s thigh. Just that act of dominance alone starts a fire simmering low in Peter’s belly. “Tony did. Is that the only point you took from that story? Shows how fucking often I’ll open up to you.”

“Not the only point,” Peter says, eyes heavy lidded. He’d need a few more minutes to become hard again, but that doesn’t mean his cock doesn’t tingle with the threat of it. “I know now that you’re in love with him.”

Peter feels viscerally when Bucky’s hand tightens in his hair, pulling at his scalp to the point of pain. He loosens them right away at the wince on Peter’s face, patting clumsily as if to soothe the ache he caused.

“If you tell him,” Bucky warns. “I’ll make you regret it.”

“Fuck, yes, threaten me again,” Peter groans lowly. He has to bite off the end of that sentence, the way the word daddy came so easily to his tongue. But the other man isn’t ready for that, hasn’t expressed any interest in it. Not to mention, maybe it makes him a sentimental fool, but Tony is the only man he’s ever called daddy, and it doesn’t feel right to pass the moniker along. Not without permission. Peter opens his mouth wide and plants his teeth into the muscular thigh that was resting beneath his cheek. When he pulls back, there is a shadow of the imprint in the denim. “It turns me on.”

Bucky pulls his hair again, this time harsh and purposeful. Peter’s neck cracks, an unsettling sensation that makes him shiver. He leans down until his breath fans across Peter’s upturned face. “I mean it.”

There is a real trace of fear that trickles down the back of Peter’s neck, but he leans into it. This is what he wanted. A dangerous man brings danger with him. His mouth opens to taunt Bucky more but the eyes - those pale, sea spray eyes - they are wild. Maybe frightened. It takes herculean effort to decide between egging the man on and comforting him. Well - it takes effort to choose what he knows to be right.

“I’m joking,” Peter says, throat hoarse from how his neck is exposed. “I won’t tell him.”

He’s left pinned under that fervent gaze for a few more endless seconds and then Bucky’s fist loosens. Brings him back down to rest his head where he had moments ago planted his cheek. Between Peter’s legs, he is throbbing. He can’t help but reach a hand down to palm at the tented fabric of his boxers.

“None of that,” Bucky says sternly. “Jesus, how desperate are you? You came just fifteen minutes ago and you’re already thirsty for more. You’re going to learn some patience, kid, if it’s the last thing I do.”

“Good luck,” says Peter, breathless.

#winterspider #starker #winterironspider #nff #cagewrites

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my-emotional-self · 3 years

Text

Toxic Love Chapter 7

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Reader, Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes

Summary: Finding out your soulmates were Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes was one thing. But when someone from your past comes back to haunt you, you have to figure out if a relationship with two super soldiers is something you really want to pursue or if you’d rather go back to your comfortable single life.

Series Warnings: 18+, Swearing, Angst, Fluff, past mentions of rape, self-harm, attempted rape, domestic violence, stalking, death threats, possible Dark!Steve?, Steve will be an asshole a LOT in this series but I don’t know how dark it will get, explicit sexual content, mental health issues, kind of A/B/O dynamics but not really (no they are not actual wolves, more like the hierarchy), mentions of suicide, flashbacks of suicide, nightmares

A/N: There will be no taglist for this story! I apologize in advance!

8 Years Ago – Age 17

“Y/N, do you know why you are here?” the shrink asked from across the large desk. You looked down at the typical uniform of a patient at a psychiatric ward. Yes you knew why you were in here. A few months ago you witnessed your father’s dead corpse hanging in your living room. The next thing you knew you were writing a suicide note of your own and your foster parents found it before you could do anything. Now, you were stuck in a psych ward, probably until you at least turned 18.

“Yep,” came your short response.

The shrink glanced down at her papers in front of her, going through all of your notes. “We want to help you as best we can Y/N. You’ve been through some very traumatic experiences in your life and you’ve witnessed a great deal. We are going to get you all the help you need.”

3 Months Later

“Have you heard of Borderline Personality Disorder Y/N?” your psychiatrist, Dr. Wang asked.

That made your head snap in her direction. Here you were, still stuck in the psych ward after three months and you weren’t sure why. “I’ve heard of that, yes. But I thought I was just depressed,” you mumbled, chewing on your fingernail.

You were clinically diagnosed with depression shortly after coming here.

“Well, that’s what we originally thought at first. But the longer you’ve spent time here, the more I and the rest of the staff have discovered it is BPD. You’re intense mood swings, combined with your ongoing feelings of emptiness and the intense bouts of anger you have are all signs of BPD. We are going to switch up your medications and that will really help with your mood swings and anger issues.

~~~

No matter how hard you tried, sleep never came to you that afternoon. You tossed and turned all afternoon in your bed and nothing seemed to be working. Not only that, but you were really starting to get more irritable as the day went on and you knew it was time to change the dosing of your medication. It was like clockwork, every year to year and a half. The only problem was that you couldn’t leave the tower without Steve, Bucky or an anyone else. How were you supposed to get an appointment with your Psychiatrist if you couldn’t leave the tower alone? This only increased your anger and frustration as you got out of bed to get ready.

You brushed your teeth and put on a some jeans and a t-shirt, not really caring what you threw on. All of the specific clothing you wore for work was in the closet of your game room along with your makeup and accessories.

Upon leaving your room, you saw Steve and Bucky sitting at the island in the kitchen of your shared apartment. They both looked deep in thought over some paperwork and you assumed it was for work.

Grabbing a bottle of water from the kitchen, you were about to head into the elevator as you didn’t want to disturb them, but Steve spoke up and caught your attention. “Where are you off to?”

“Oh, umm, I’m heading down to my game room. I’m going to work tonight,” you mumbled out as you pressed the button for the elevator. You noticed it was on the ground floor and it would take a few minutes to get to your level.

“What time do you plan on being done?” Steve questioned.

You huffed in annoyance, already irritated as anger began to creep through your bones. “I don’t know. Whenever I get done,” you snapped. Immediately you felt regret, but sometimes your emotions got the better of you when you were in dire need of a medication change.

“Hey, what’s with the attitude?” Steve commanded as he got up from his seat and stalked over to you, hands on his hips. You noticed Bucky looking at you from his seat with furrowed brows. They had never seen you angry like this. You were always so compliant and easy going.

“Look, I’m sorry. I’m just tired is all.”

Steve looked at you sharply, his lips in a thin tight line. “Alright. Just make sure you get to bed at a reasonable time tonight. Promise?”

“I promise,” you answered back.

~~~

In the comfort of your game room, you quickly got to work. Digging through your closet, you decided on a light pink tank top that said ‘Gamer Girl’ in black letters with two gamer controls on it. Since your webcam only showed your top half, you threw on a black pair of cotton shorts to be comfortable.

Next, you put your hair up in space buns, making sure they were situated just right so they wouldn’t be in the way of your headphones. You put on your typical game night makeup: bright pink eyeshadow with dark smoked out liner, some mascara and blush and you were good to go.

Turning on your monitor, you began to power everything up and once that was done, you logged in. Immediately your followers started putting in their messages off to the side and you smiled as you read them. You always tried to read as much of them as you could.

As the night went on, you knew you should pack it up and listen to what Steve said; getting to bed at a descent time and getting rest. But you were having way too much fun tonight and so were your followers. It was one of the best nights you’d had in months and not just money wise.

Ignoring the clock you continued to play and interact with your followers with the microphone that was attached to your headphones. Every so often you would glance to your messages box and see what some of them had said. Most of them were cheering you on but of course you always had some haters in there as well.

It was when you noticed the screen name of one of them that made your blood run cold. JSmith20. ‘It can’t be’ you thought to yourself, trying to keep as composed as possible as hundreds of people were watching you game in this very moment.

John’s last name is Smith and he always told you how his favorite number was 20, because that was how old you were when you met him. No, but he’s still in prison. He hasn’t gotten out. He’ll be in there for many more years to come. It had to be one of his friends right? The same friend that had been delivering those letters to your old apartment. ‘Yes, that’s right. It’s just one of his friends trying to torment you’ you thought to yourself.

Then, the person behind that screen name typed a message into your message box.

Hey babe. Do you miss me yet? I can’t wait to see you – J

Yep, your composure went out the window reading the message. Then another message from him popped up.

I see you are no longer living in that little one bedroom apartment. Did you really think you could up and move and I wouldn’t be able to find you? Oh babe, how cute. I will find you and we will meet again soon. I promise – J

As you stared at the words on your screen, you heard groans from the other players on your team. You had just lost the game.

“Shit,” you swore, anger bubbling up inside of you. “Fucking damnit!” You slammed your fist on the desk.

You rarely lost games. Losing always put you in a foul mood. But because of already being irritable and your emotions on over drive, losing just made everything worse.

Looking at the clock it was just before five in the morning so you logged off and shut everything down.

You took your hair out of the buns, immediately feeling the tension in your head ease. Ever so quietly, you opened the door and poked your head out into the hallway. It was bitch black so you used your phone as a flashlight and tiptoed to the elevator. Before pressing the button on the elevator, you paused. What if the noise of the elevator woke up Steve or Bucky? You had promised Steve that you would get to bed at a descent time and seeing as it was just about five in the morning, well, you kind of figured you’d be in trouble.

Instead, you opened the door to the stairs which was situated right next to the elevator. At least taking the stairs would be much quieter.

You climbed the stairs up a few levels until you reached your living level and you waited on baited breath for a few moments. Nothing. Nothing but silence. As quiet as a mouse, you snuck through the door and dashed to your room, thanking your lucky stars that the palm scanner didn’t make any noise.

You took a nice hot shower, washing off all of your makeup and the stress of the last few hours. As much as you wanted to forget John messaging you, it wasn’t going to happen, neither was any sleep.

Rather than even bothering to get into bed and try to relax, you sent an email to your psychiatrist letting her know that you would more than likely need a dose change on your medications. Frantically typing away at the email, you explained how you were beginning to get irritated and it was harder for you to control your bouts of anger.

Luckily for you, Dr. Wang was an early bird and she emailed you right back. She wanted you to come see her for an appointment and your heart immediately dropped. That wasn’t going to happen as one of your rules was that you weren’t allowed out of the tower by yourself. And as much as you liked Darcy, you couldn’t trust her to go with you and not say anything to Steve or Bucky.

Typing out your reply, you explained that you were unfortunately not able to meet in person and if there was anything else that could be done. After you hit sent, you began to pace in your apartment, clearly on edge with everything going on. You just wanted to feel better; you hated feeling this way. It was as if you weren’t in control of your body and you definitely weren’t in control of your emotions.

A notification came through your laptop and you rushed towards it, almost tripping over your feet. As you read her words, you could have cried right then and there. She had agreed to a phone call appointment and she had time right now to discuss things with you.

Grasping your phone, you dialed her number.

“It’s good to hear from you Y/N,” Dr. Wang stated as she answered the phone.

“Oh Dr. Wang it is so good to hear your voice.”

She let out a soft chuckle. “Yes, it has been a little over six months since we’ve last spoken. How are things going with you?”

“Where to begin,” you started off saying. You let her know that you indeed met your soulmates and had moved in with them. You went over the rules that Steve had given you and she made you feel better as she stated she had seen way worse rules. Hell, she said your rules were like a walk in the park compared to some she has heard.

“Alright, now, let’s get down to business. How are you feeling these past few days?” she asked curiously.

“Ugh, not good. Moving was stressful but I have been feeling really irritated over the last few and I’ve had a few bouts of anger rush through me that makes me want to punch something, but I’ve luckily been able to hold back on that.”

“What about any risky behaviors such as reckless driving, spending sprees, binge eating, drug abuse or sabotaging anything positive in your life?”

“Not yet,” you stated. You knew the routine. She was going over all the symptoms of Borderline Personality Disorder to see what has changed with you.

“Ok good. How about any intense fears of abandonment or rejection?”

That question always hit you like a punch to the gut. The only reason you had stayed with John for so long was because of that right there. He purposely wouldn’t let you see Dr. Wang or he wouldn’t take you to get your medications refilled and because of that, you were starting to feel those feelings; not wanting to be abandoned no matter what.

“Nope,” you replied.

“Ok then. I am going to increase the dosing on your current medications but I want to warn you. Without you coming in and personally seeing me and without getting some blood work done, I don’t know how well this dosing is going to work, if it will work at all. We might need to discuss changing the medication all together,” she stated.

“I understand Dr. Wang. And do you think maybe you could prescribe some sort of sleep medication for me too?”

“I can prescribe a one week trial of a sleeping medication for you. After that, I really need you to try and come see me in the office and we can discuss that further. Now, did you want me to send these prescriptions into your regular pharmacy?”

“Yes, that would be great. Thank you so much Dr. Wang.”

“No worries at all Y/N. Give the office a call and get an appointment set up.”

“I will. Thanks again.”

Now that you had your medications all taken care of, you had to figure a way to leave the tower so you could get them.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes smut #dark!steve rogers #dark! steve rogers

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boom-bakugou · 4 years

Text

‘The Three Times’ — Keigo Takami (Hawks)

A/N: had this one on my mind for a while, hope it made you as sad as it made me

Pairings: Hawks x GN!Reader

Warnings: angst, slight smutty themes, mentions of blood, slight stalker Hawks

Summary: There were 3 times each when you and Hawks really thought of each other after your breakup.

Word Count: 3.4k

masterlist requests are open <3

The first time Hawks thought of you was 6 months after your relationship ended. His fingers brushed tightly through some random person’s hair as their kiss became ragged. Spurred on by alcohol and their combined sex drive. But as they stumbled up to his apartment, lips locked together as if the alcohol called for it. Something just- didn’t feel right. He couldn’t understand if it was the multiple drinks that they had but he couldn’t help but feel like something was wrong.

Yet as he lay over them on his bed, readying himself to take off their clothes. Hawks stopped himself. His eyes glazing over the person beneath his body.

“I’m really sorry I can’t do this uh-“ Hawks’ usual cocky demeanour dissipated. “I think I’m too drunk.”

But his mind was completely sober. His near fuck-buddy annoyed at the disappointment gathered their scattered items and made their way out of the apartment complex with pity money for a cab from Hawks as an apology.

Plagued by his own mind, he couldn’t think of why he couldn’t follow through with it, stripping himself to go to bed as if stripping back layers of himself to figure out his troubles. Before he pinpointed it. The person beneath him wasn’t you. Laying on his king size bed he couldn’t help but still catch the smell of you on the other side, not daring to touch it since you had both ended things.

Why couldn’t he bring himself to sleep there? Even if he awoke in the middle of the night and was the slightest bit too far over on the other side he’d always move. Why couldn’t he bring himself to sleep with someone else in your bed? No, it was his bed; no one else lived with him. Why did he still reach out only to be met with cold covers?

It wasn’t that serious. He told himself. Yes you two had fun, were intimate, became each other’s best friend but it was better to be apart. Hawks knew he was holding you back and the pressure of keeping a partner and being a pro-hero at a tumultuous time wasn’t a good plan.

He hadn’t even realised the shirt that he’d put on to wear to bed that night was one of your favourites on him. Always saying it was the comfiest to lie on. You promised that’d be the one shirt you’d never steal because you preferred it on him. Hawks couldn’t help but chuckle at the thought, out loud, in his empty bedroom, looking at how your side of the bed still had traces of the way that you slept.

The first time you thought of him was 8 months after your relationship ended. At your agency, you watched him on the tv in your office as he was part of an interview. You didn’t even notice it was him at first, flicking through paperwork. You didn’t notice the interviewers announce his name or the cadence of his voice. It wasn’t until you heard your own name that your eyes were soon glued to the flat screen.

“So how do you feel about Y/N and their new agency? It must be nice to see your ex-sidekick flourish and make their way up and up the hero charts!” The host didn’t mean any malice from it, but you could see the shock and hurt in his eyes hidden behind his signature smile.

No one knew, no one even at his old agency knew about the two of you secretly dating. But the two of you knew about how work and relationships didn’t particularly coincide. Hawks chuckled, before he began his sentence. The inner cogs turning within him plastered on his face, his charming features that you knew so well.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m happy for the kid. Wish we kept in contact more often though.”

He did not want to talk about it. It had hurt you both for it to end it, but you were holding each other back right? You didn’t want to be a side-kick forever, and heroes dating got messy. Tabloids plastered with paparazzi photos. You didn’t want your image ruined before you’d even begun.

“You don’t keep in contact that often? But you two were so close!” The host’s voice was cheerful, trying to keep the smooth pace of the interview going as it had moments prior. Hawks was made for TV, loved by many. Seeing this talk-show was stuttering, you’d never seen him so quietly distraught on camera.

“Just hero work I guess. Keeps everyone busy!” He retorts playfully which makes the crowd laugh, and you yourself can’t help but crack a smile. He could work the camera like magic, but you couldn’t help but see the cut where his face turned into a solemn frown. He was so civil about the breakup. He couldn’t miss you now of all times right?

The TV had cut to an ad-break and you busy yourself with paperwork again. You didn’t really want to think about him, the caress of his fingers, the way his morning voice said your name in his own cadence, the breakfasts he’d make for you the times you’d stayed at his apartment.

No. No more Keigo. So you plunged yourself back into your paperwork and lost all thought of your ex-lover.

The second time Hawks thought of you was a year after your relationship ended. Days off never came to him easily, but craving a sense of normalcy at least for one day was allowed. Stopping by his favourite coffee shop was the easiest way to feel normal for him, order the same drink, sit in the same window seat and people watch. Except today, someone was in his seat.

Taking a chair a few spaces down from the girl at the window table, it took him a few moments to recognise her before placing two and two together.

“Hey you’re uh- Y/N’s sidekick right?” Hawks asks, the girl turns her head to him before looking at him in shock, almost spitting out her drink and spilling the other cup that she had with her.

“Uh- y-yes uhm and you’re Hawks oh god hello-.” She stuttered, he reached his hand over to let her shake it which she happily obliged.

“So, how’s it working at big pro hero Y/N’s agency?” Hawks sipped at his coffee, preparing to hear about all he’s missed out on- well, avoided. Her demeanour almost reminded him of you when you just started, a big fan of his looking to do more and be better for the better of everyone around you. She took a sip of her own drink, trying to compose herself before she formulated an answer.

“It’s a dream come true! I’ve been a big fan of Y/N ever since they were at your agency.” She smiles. My agency, he thought. Seems like eons ago.

“I’m sure you’ve heard a lot of stories from them.” Hawks chuckles, before looking he noticed her rather solemn expression. Her eyes drifting down from his to look at the coffee lip over the opening of her disposable cup.

“Not really, they don't talk much about the old agency which is upsetting- I’d really like to know what it was like!” She was so enthusiastic, so bright. Just like you when you’d become his sidekick. He hoped that he hadn’t ruined that spark when you left the agency. Taking his eyes back to the second cup, his heart sank a little before directing his attention to your sidekick; trying his best to keep his savvy cool aura around him.

“Are you two out on patrol today?” He tried to ask as nonchalantly as possible, not to seem prying. He hadn’t heard anything about you really for little over a year, why didn't you two keep in contact? It wasn’t like you agreed never to speak to one another again.

“Yeah! But we have an hour before we start so they’re meeting me here and got me to grab them their favourite before we head off.” She gestured to the other cup that sat next to her own. “They’ll only be a few minutes, do you wanna stay and talk to them?”

The tone in her voice was that of an excitable fan girl although she did her best to tone it down. Hawks’ mind raced at the thought, seeing you now; not just as he flicked over TV channels and newspaper articles on his phone. Or even how his favourite coffee place that he used to take you to was now your favourite, and you hadn’t bumped into each other here once.

“I gotta get running, I have some errands to do.” Hawks picked up his cup and went to walk off before adding. “Tell the kid… I hope they’re doing good.”

And with that he was off, sitting atop the rooftop next to the cafe, awaiting you to walk inside. He only got a brief glimpse and you didn't notice his presence but, after a few moments he saw you return outside. Hiding behind the lip of the roof so you couldn’t see behind, Hawks saw you lift your head up. Your hand shielding your eyes as you looked to the sky for him. When you had no avail you headed back inside to enjoy the rest of your break.

They wanted to see me. He mused.

The second time you thought of him was a year and a half after your relationship ended. The deafening sounds of plates smashing as your then boyfriend threw them about. Anger poisoning your veins.

“It’s not my fault that I get called away for work!” You seethed. Trying your best to not follow suit with him, your feet kicking away shards. You see him lift another mug, using your arms to shield your face as it shatters to the ground. It was one of your favourites, but you never remembered why.

“God you act like you’re all high and mighty that you’re a hero and that you save lives every day.” His hands bled from fractures slicing back up into his skin, collateral damage. You looked at the man you once loved, his face contorted with jealous vexation.

“I am not high and mighty! I just believe in what I do! There’s a difference between the two, dipshit!” You couldn’t even work like a hero right now with him, not being able to help but only bite back. You tried your best to make your way in between the cupboard full of the rest of your dining-ware before he smashed anything else.

“HAH you’re so full of yourself, you’re like that dumb hero you used to work for… Hawks is it?” The name caught you by surprise, like ice being pressed to the back of your neck. It was as if a ghost had left his lips. “Just as fucking arrogant and cocky as that cocksucker on tv,”

“Get out.” You mutter, your eyes surveying the mess on the floor. The pieces of broken china looked like islands among a wooden sea, a beautiful nonsensical mess.

“What?”

“You heard what I said, now get out!” Your eyes shot back up to him, filled with absolute malice. The timbre of your voice elevated as your shoes stood on pieces of the plates, cracking beneath your heavy stomp.

He hurried his way out, not another word leaving his lips. The slam of the door didn’t even make you jump. You didn’t know what to feel. Shuffling debris from beneath you with your feet, you kneel on the hardwood floor of your kitchen. Digging away at what had been lost during the fight. Some were little things like plates you found at antique stores or ones that had a chip in it after you’d opened the cupboard door to quickly. Yet one stood out to you.

In a pool of shattered red pieces was where your favourite cup had been rendered to smithereens. Taking each piece, you tried your best to regain your memory of why it meant so much to you. Until it hit. The day you got the mug was the day that Hawks had first kissed you. After a tricky situation involving a villain and a ceramics shop. He and you had been on a few dates prior to the mission, and after all was said and done the owner of the shop gave it to Hawks who then bestowed it to you, before pressing his lips to yours.

Rummaging your way through the pieces trying best not to cut yourself, you find that the bottom of the cup had been split into two, reuniting the pieces you see the faint ‘Hawks x’ painted on the bottom. It had worn away with time but you still saw it. His distinct handwriting, it always looked different when he wore his gloves which must’ve been how he’d written it then. It was a shame you’d have to get rid of it now.

The third time Hawks thought of you was 4 years after your relationship ended. How could he have missed it. It was all every newspaper wrote about, all every television talk show chattered on to their audiences to, every social media post upon his dashboard.

You were getting married.

Hawks balled his fists in frustration, the leather of his gloves creating a shrill noise which only fuelled his sadness. But why was he upset in the first place? He hadn’t seen you properly in the flesh for at least 4 years now, not heard you breathlessly say his name as you clung to his sheets, not heard you hum songs in his shower as you got ready for the morning, not smelt your sweet aroma that made him feel like home.

He knew he shouldn’t be thinking like this, it was all some crazy possessive idealisation that his mind had come up with just because it could. But his throat couldn’t help but go sour as he thought of you in another person’s arms. No one had really made him feel like everything was right, not those half excuses for a relationship he’s had over the past few years, not the one night stands nor the dates his friends tried to set him up. Nothing was as perfect as you were.

You were everything, the moon and it’s pull, the stars and their shine. And what did he do? Throw it away because he was scared and he’d convinced you that it’d be better for you too. How could he be so stupid? How could he have everything in the palm of his hand and let it slip away. He had to see you, just once. Before he could never have you again.

Taking flight in the pitch black, Hawks did his best to research where you were living now. Not in that old cozy place you once had, you were a pro-hero now, able to buy yourself way better. Settling himself on a rooftop near the new and improved apartment complex you lived in, Hawks kept an eye for any movement before he saw you in your window.

You looked as beautiful as the day he met you, clad in only some shorts and a T-shirt, you sipped out of a mug. Watching the bustling city below you. When the hot substance steamed up the window you’d wipe it off, allowing yourself to have the perfect view of the streets. The way the city lights lit you up made his heart swell, everything about you was utterly perfect. He only wished that you were drinking out of that old mug that he had given you all those years ago.

Taking him out of his trance were two strong arms wrapping around you, frightening you momentarily. You looked shocked, nearly dropping the cup. Hawks stood on the ledge of the building, flaring his wings as he prepared himself to jump into action. Yet you turned around and giggled, placing your lips upon your soon to be husband. He recognised their face and blonde hair- another hero. But it’d been years since Hawks last cared about the hero listings. He couldn’t even tell the hero’s name.

His heart sank as you placed the mug down on the window sill, wrapping your arms around your fiancé and dancing around the living room together. Hawks could hear the soft music playing in the background, the man spinning you around. Watching as your hair danced through the twirl with you, he closed his eyes and tried to remember what it felt like to run his fingers through it. Waking up to it tickling his nose, pushing it out of your face behind your ear; he missed the little things.

Opening his eyes again, he was met with the curtains shut. The final goodbye. He stood himself up properly, not worrying about being spotted before taking out his phone and searching for local shops that open earliest in the morning.

The third time you thought of Hawks was 4 years after your relationship ended. Your engagement ring dazzled in the fluorescent lights of your office, you couldn’t help but stare at it. It had taken so many years to find the one but you finally had it, being successful in your career and your love life. Everything was falling exactly into place. Before you could admire your finger any longer there was a knock at your door.

“Hello Y/N? These were delivered for you.” Your secretary brings a tied gift bag and leaves it on your desk, quickly scurrying out as she always had a mountain of workload to do.

You looked at the decorative paper carefully. You knew it couldn’t be anything inconspicuous as all deliveries into hero agencies had to go through rigorous testing before even being allowed into the building. You assumed it was something you might’ve ordered a while back that had finally arrived so you delicately began to peel back the tissue paper.

Beneath was a bouquet of your favourite flowers in a quaint but beautiful small vase. Amongst the sea of flowers was a card held by a stick which you plucked out to read, expecting something from your soon-to-be spouse.

It’s always gonna be you kid. - Hawks x

You swear your heartbeat stopped, retaking your seat at your desk. You reread the simplistic words on the card over and over as if they’re gospel and you can’t help but feel the pang of tears in your eyes and in the back of your throat. Placing it upon your desk you shut your eyes, you hadn’t thought about your feelings for your old boss in years. It sounds so silly, but maybe he buried feelings too. But that was long gone. You had moved on, you were happy. You were settling. Settling.

Still, you opened the bottom drawer of your desk and reached beneath a couple of old files to bring out an old memory. The bottom of an old mug glued back together so you could once again read the inscription of Hawks’ name.

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