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#with me. it’s not his fault he didn’t chose that but he got so fucking lucky with everything and I didn’t
milogreer · 1 day
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so uhh this is gonna be scatterbrained. but i'm gonna ramble about milo and (what little info we have on) colm. sorry in advance if it doesn’t make sense i just had to exorcise this demon 🫡
i believe "camping with your alpha boyfriend (2021)" is the earliest mention of colm in an audio. obviously we don't actually know milo's side of things because it's told from david's POV, but we still get the mental image of little thirteen year old milo sitting shotgun in his dad's pickup as they drive to their camping spot. gabe's goofing around in the truck bed to make david and asher laugh, and colm joins in the fun by swerving the truck to mess with gabe. very basic dad thing to do, my dad's done the exact same thing to me and my siblings. it feels familiar and silly, and david frames it as a good memory, so it feels like a good memory. which is important to the point of this post
in "celebrating the new house (2022)," we get a little more colm lore:
My dad was forever blowing any cash he made on fucking bets and gambling and shit, chasing some fucking high. My mom was the only reason we didn’t end up out on the fucking street. He didn’t pull his head out of his ass and get some help until after I’d already moved out. So I never got to have that feeling of being in a house that was actually ours, ya know?
already this is a stark contrast to what we've previously heard of colm (i don't think there's any real mention of him between sept 2021 and dec 2022?) and it kinda makes me look at that old memory in a different light, especially with regards to david saying marie was "nagging [colm's] ear off about being irresponsible and a bad example." like. ykwim? like i'm just thinking about that interaction and wondering how far along those problems were at the time, if they were present at all. was this a normal, fun family outing? or would milo have rather been in the truck bed with david, asher, and gabe?
(and the fact that it wasn't until after milo moved out that colm tried getting any help?? i could make a whole other post speculating about milo struggling with wanting to move out of that environment ASAP vs not wanting to leave marie on her own to deal with colm)
so then i'm re-listening to "your werewolf boyfriend is worried about you" and having a visceral reaction to (re-)learning that colm was also an alcoholic:
But what he chose to do with that frustration and that feeling of powerlessness was not his job’s fault, those were his choices. He’s the one who decided to lose himself in booze and gambling and never being home. Never being there for the people he said he loved but apparently couldn’t stand to be around.
the last sentence especially is just an absolute heartbreaker because milo's, what, thirty now? and he's been dealing with this since he was a kid. clearly he's not on great terms with colm. the only times he ever talks about him is when he's shit talking the department. that is a crazy weight for someone to carry their whole life. i don't have experience with the gambling side but i do have an alcoholic family member who i used to be really close to as a kid but grew up to intensely resent as a result of his actions, so it hits a little close to home to see that reflected in milo
but i digress. umm. i bring up the camping story to highlight the most recent mention of colm from milo and how there were good times and sometimes maybe it hurts to remember them when the person involved devastated you as you grew up because they weren't what you thought they were. and how these things follow you through life and impact how you approach certain things. milo has to live with the fact that the same system that royally fucked colm is potentially going to do the same thing to the love of his life; i never drink more than one shot or half a beer, if i drink at all, and i don't like being around drunk people. even though we don't hear about colm very often, his influence is still there whenever milo has to deal with the department in any way
anyway i guess TLDR; imagine living the majority of your thirty years of life feeling like your dad couldn't stand to be around you because he was too busy drinking himself stupid and gambling away every penny he had as a way to deal with the strain that his job put on him. imagine having to witness your mom struggle constantly to keep you cared for. imagine the few good childhood memories you have with your dad being overshadowed by thinking he didn't love you or your mom enough to change. imagine watching the department run your soulmate into the dirt physically and mentally the same way it did your father and wanting to be supportive of them but also being so worried for them. it's a really interesting situation for him to be in and i enjoy it but it hurts me. the end
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bratkook · 3 months
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deep six: dancing with death. (m) jjk
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part one. part two. v-day drabble
pairing. biker!jk x reader genre. smut, fluff warnings. infidelity (but its ok i promise), protected s*x, oral, jungkook is kinda whiny and that itself deserves a warning, they're just fluffy and mushy and love each other they just dont know it yet word count. 12.2k summary. you've always known to stay away from the tombstone patches, told they were the enemy, that you'd be betraying your club if you chose not to listen. but an unsuspected friendship makes you think that maybe not everyone was as bad as you were made to believe. author’s note. hihiiii, this is a prequel to the deep six series! aka how jungkook and oc start their friendship and have it blossom into what it becomes in part one of deep six. i truly love these two so much, something about their forbidden love and how jungkook is tough and dangerous but oh so sweet to her makes me fucking melt!!! ok hope u enjoy it bye ily muah
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The world is a constant blur, days merging, memories hazy and bleeding together in your mind. The only time you enjoy the blur is now, sitting on your bike as you flow through the streets. Exiting Cobra territory made you feel free, the streets widening up the further you got, allowing you to cruise without the fear of getting swiped by a careless driver. 
Your eyes fall shut briefly, taking a slow breath as you try to push the earlier feelings away. Minho was having a bad day, a deal he had hoped to make to start running ice falling through, the man in charge deciding to go with a neighboring club instead. It wasn’t your fault the man thought Minho was too hot headed and messy to not find a way to mess this deal up, wanting a club with more reach, more connections and reliability than the Cobras could offer. That didn’t stop Minho from treating you like it was your fault, doing what he did best before barking orders at you to go for a run, desperately needing alcohol to drown his emotions. 
The earlier fear still rattles you, leaves your fingers trembling slightly as they clutch the handles and accelerate. He couldn’t hurt you here, and that's all the comfort you need at the moment, finally pulling into the familiar parking lot of the bodega. There’s a few cars parked inside, a lone scooter tossed by the sidewalk, and a shiny black bike parked by the entrance. 
You eye it for a moment, always checking for visible tags that let you know if the bike belonged to a club that had the Cobra’s high on their hit list. It’d be easy to act dumb if it was, no identifying items on you, knowing better than to roam the streets without Minho with a serpent stamped on you. 
When you find nothing you decide it’s fine, knowing you were on a time crunch to get what he wanted. With another slow breath you step off your bike, already feeling your earlier nerves fade away as you enter your comfort space. It seems odd to consider it one, but something about the buzzing fluorescent lighting and peeling laminate made you feel like an individual. 
Music plays through a portable speaker by the cashier, the worker greeting you with a smile that you return before you turn down your favorite aisle. That’s when you spot him again. The Deep Six member in the same spot he was in the last time you saw him a few weeks ago. It had been a close encounter then, not realizing who he was with your boyfriend standing outside. But his arms are revealed to you now, markings on his skin making it clear what club he belonged to, leaving no room for confusion. If that somehow wasn’t enough the giant patches on his vest and the glimmering rings on his fingers spell it out, literally. 
You approach him slowly, not sure if you trust him but not fully on edge like you were before, knowing Minho’s watchful eyes weren’t observing your every move. Without the ticking bomb a few feet away you allow yourself to slightly relax in the presence of him, assuming he had no idea who you were, clearly too focused on his candy selection. 
Sure you were on a run for Minho but you always pick something up for yourself. A small smile is already on your lips as your eyes land on the sour straws, ready to pick your flavor of choice, only to find it completely empty. Instantly you know the culprit is the man next to you, remembering the way you had reached for the same candy last time you saw him here by chance, and as you turn to stare at him you see his palms cradling four packets of the sour straws, a teasing smile on his face as he meets your eyes. Greedy. 
“Sorry,” he breathes out, sounding anything but, trying desperately not to laugh and failing as he makes his way to the front to pay. You don’t even respond to him, admitting defeat as you settle on the green apple flavored ones before you return to your earlier task, finding a case of Minho’s favorite beer and paying for it. 
The heat welcomes you once more outside, loading up the beer and candy into the saddlebags on the side of your bike, already forgetting about the candy thief from inside. 
“Hey, Snake!” A voice cuts through the air, making you freeze as you search for it, finding the Six standing by the shiny black bike you had spotted earlier. He reaches into his pocket, still smiling as he pulls out the blue raspberry sour straw packet, tossing it your way with ease. 
You catch it with both palms, momentarily stunned at the small gesture and at the fact that he clearly knew you were associated with the Cobras. The rumble of his engine snaps you out of it, smiling slightly as you look up at him once more, a breathless thank you escaping your lips before he is smiling back and peeling out of the parking lot. 
When you live the life you do, constantly on edge with a paranoid boyfriend questioning everyone’s intentions, it's hard not to let his way of thinking affect your own. Even as you sit back at the clubhouse, holding onto that packet of candy, you can’t help but wonder if maybe the Six’s seemingly sweet gesture was a trap. Maybe he was testing to see how gullible you are, stupid enough to interact with him, to use you to send a message to the Cobras. It wouldn’t be the first time. Minho’s reign made you an easy target, knowing you had a lot of enemies that would love to make a lesson of you. 
It's been so long since anyone has shown you genuine kindness with no strings attached, and as you finally enjoy your treat, you can’t stop the warm feeling of hope in your chest that maybe not everyone was as bad as you were made to believe. 
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You don’t return to your comfort space again until two weeks later, on another run for the club. Minho seemed to think if he gave you pointless errands to run you’d be satisfied, content with the loveless relationship and mundane everyday life. It was his way of keeping you on a leash, making you follow orders and letting the lead slacken up, only tightening it back up to remind you he was all you had. But you’d take the small moments of peace wherever you could get them. 
The lot is empty today as you pull in, the only car belonging to the worker inside. The moment of solitude only lasts for a minute, a loud rumble cutting through the air as another bike pulls in beside you. You tense up immediately, whipping your head to assess the situation, spotting the familiar Six too lost in his thoughts to realize you were here. He furrows his brows as he takes off his helmet, adjusting the large rings on his fingers before he glances your way, jumping slightly when he notices it's you. 
You eye him curiously, hands coming up to the key in the ignition, ready to start it up and tail out of here if he made a move. Minho had made a claim of some other club trying to ambush a deal earlier today, an unlucky hangout being the only one hurt, but without an identifying patch it left him on edge more than normal. So far the Six didn’t make you feel like you had to be wary, but you couldn’t be so sure. 
He seems to sense it, his arms raising up in surrender as he stays on his bike. “It’s okay snake, I don’t bite.” He smiles at his own stupid remark, but it slowly falls off his face when he sees the stoic expression remains on yours. “Seriously though, I’m just here for some smokes and a treat. I can go somewhere else if it really makes you this uncomfortable though.”
“Why aren’t you somewhere else to begin with?” you bite back, still not trusting that he wasn’t trying to trap you. 
Jungkook just sighs, hand coming up to ruffle up his helmet hair. “It’s nice to get away sometimes. This is neutral grounds, you know as best as I do that anything club related done here is a death wish.” He lets you process his statement, seeing the way you continue to eye him, your gaze tracing along the patches he wears. The large tombstone taunts you, torn and a little rugged on the edges, showing just how long he’s been wearing it. “Why aren’t you somewhere on your side of town?”
You purse your lips, looking away from him as you pull your hand away from your key, getting off your bike, deciding this conversation was better to have inside your little safe space. “Like you said, it’s nice to get away sometimes.” You hook your helmet over your handle, reaching the bodega’s door and holding it open as you look back at him. “You coming?”
He seems to snap out of it, quickly hopping off his bike and jogging your way, saying a quick greeting to the worker before going down the familiar aisle. He smiles when he sees you next to those damn sour straws. 
“Those must be your favorite huh?”
You give him a quick glance, seeing the smile on his lips before you turn back and grab a packet of the candy. “They are, so try not to take all of them at once again.”
He lets out a soft laugh, reaching forward and grabbing a couple of the same. “I gave you one last time, which says a lot because I don’t really like sharing.”
“A Six that doesn’t like sharing? That’s not surprising.” Your words are light, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips as you turn around and continue roaming the aisle. 
“Not as surprising as a Snake trying to tell me what to do.” The crinkling of plastic fills the store as he rips open his packet, taking a bite of a sour straw as he tries to hide his own smile when you give him an eye roll. 
“I’m not technically a Snake,” you mutter out, finger tracing along the chocolate bar you were contemplating grabbing. It wasn’t a lie, you didn’t wear the patch, you weren’t granted the perks of being a part of the club, nothing you said held any weight on the decisions they made. You weren’t a Cobra, you just belonged to one of them. Though that didn’t seem like the wisest thing to tell him, you knew the history between Deep Six and the Cobras, and telling him you belonged to Minho of all people would put you high up on his list of people to hurt if he had bad intentions to begin with. 
“Oh? You just like to hang on to the back of one then?”
“Something like that,” you sigh, deciding not to grab the extra treat, turning to look at him fully once more. “Are you gonna keep calling me a snake?”
His tongue prods along his cheek as he looks down at you, eyebrow slowly cocking up. “What would you rather I call you?”
“Y/N.”
He nods slowly, letting your name settle into his mind before he was reaching his hand out, the golden glimmering rings spelling out SIX shining in the light. You eye his hand for a minute before grabbing it in a gentle handshake, seeing the way he smiles before saying his own name. 
“Jungkook.”
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Jungkook was proud of his club, wore his patch with pride, did everything he could to show his loyalty. So why was he starting to tell white lies to his brothers, making up excuses to justify why he was going to the bodega on neutral grounds directly after finishing a job. He knew what would happen if they knew who he was talking to, slowly befriending. His only rational excuse was the fact that you had said you weren’t technically a Cobra, and although he’s not sure how well that would hold up to the rest of his members, it was the only excuse that helped ease his guilt. 
He was currently sat on the small sidewalk outside of the bodega, elbows leaning on his knees as he glanced around the empty lot. You had been meeting here once every week or so. He had started to take note of the typical times you’d be sent on runs of your own, choosing to coincidentally run into you at the same time. You had yet to arrive today though, leaving him waiting for fifteen minutes, wondering if maybe you wouldn’t be showing up today. 
Just before he decides to head out, you pull into the lot on your Dyna, a smile on your face when you spot him sitting on the sidewalk like a child. 
“You’re late,” he calls out, grabbing a packet of candy and tossing it your way when you get off your bike and head towards him. 
“Sorry, I wasn’t aware we had a time set for our little play dates.” You open up the candy, taking a bite and shutting your eyes at the sour taste. Jungkook laughs at your expression, patting the sidewalk beside him for you to settle into. 
“I can’t be left unsupervised, you should know this by now.”
You laugh now, taking a look at the bodega and the surrounding area. “Nothing seems to be destroyed, I think you do just fine unsupervised.”
He leans back on his palm, raking back his dark hair as he stares into the sky in thought. “I tend to cause psychological damage, not too big on destroying property.”
“Got it. So you torture people?”
Jungkook chuckles, turning to look at you slightly, a small twinkle of mischief flashing in his eyes as he smiles. “Exactly.”
You can only laugh, not exactly sure how truthful he was being with his little joke. The both of you made an effort to not discuss the intricacies of your clubs, not entirely sure what it was that you both did for them, knowing things would get too messy and tangled up if you did. Instead you talk about yourselves, knowing small anecdotes of each other’s childhoods, recounting stories of when he took a few tumbles on his bike when he was just starting to learn to ride, ones of you before the life of the Cobras was all you knew. 
It was a brief moment of normalcy, being able to talk to someone else, laughing over dumb jokes while sharing candy. It made you forget how twisted all of it was until you returned back home. 
Jungkook just appreciated having a new friend, someone to talk to about things that didn’t have to do with his club. He just wished he could talk to you in moments that lasted longer than the brief bodega hang outs. So as you both finish up, loading up your bike with the items you were told to come pick up, he takes a leap of faith. 
“Hey, can I—uh. Can I have your number?” He looks uncharacteristically shy as he asks this, one hand rubbing along the back of his neck. “To arrange our play dates,” he adds jokingly, a small smile on his lips in hopes of softening the blow of potential rejection as he reaches for his phone and hands it over. 
You freeze instantly, staring at his device as the voice in your head tells you not to, screams that this would get you in trouble. But the hopeful look on his face is enough to shut it up, grabbing his phone with a nod. “Sure, but uhm, I can’t text often.”
His brows furrow slightly at the tone you use, watching the way you type in your number and text yourself. Something about it made it seem like you were nervous, and the only thing he can assume is that the people you were around would grow curious over who you were texting. 
“Why? Scared your Snake friends would be pissed that a Six is texting you?” His tone is playful, but as you hand him his phone back, the look on your face makes his smile slowly fade away. 
“My boyfriend, specifically.”
Jungkook feels his heart drop at the revelation. He knew you were most likely involved with a Cobra, having seen you the first time you met on the back of one’s bike—more specifically, Minho’s bike. He had just assumed you were Minho’s chosen girl for the day, but if you were mentioning a boyfriend now, Jungkook could easily piece together who exactly that is. 
The third cardinal rule of his club replays in the back of his mind, “Never get involved with a Cobra”. It makes his head hurt, desperately trying to find a deeper excuse, a loophole to allow this to continue. It shouldn’t mean anything, you two were just friendly, barely even toeing that line as it was. But just knowing you were spoken for, by the leader of the Cobras especially, made the guilt he already felt for speaking to you get worse. 
But he does his best to shake it off, drowning out his thoughts as he takes his phone back and shrugs. 
“We’re just two people who share a love for sour straws, but if it makes you feel better you text me whenever you want.”
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You don’t text him for a while, the fear of your tiny little secret being exposed keeps you from responding to the text you had sent yourself from his phone. There was also the small feeling of guilt festering in your stomach, feeling like you had lied to him by keeping your relationship a secret. All he had assumed from the get go was that you liked to hang around Cobras, but you noticed the way his face had changed when you mentioned a boyfriend, and you can only imagine how he’d react if you told him your boyfriend was the leader of the Cobras. 
You find yourself staring at your device any chance you get, hidden in the bathroom of your place, lounging on the couch in the clubhouse, until you finally get the courage to send the first text. It makes your heart race, saving his number under your best friend's name, changing the emoji at the end so you know the difference, going as far as putting his messages on do not disturb. Clearly hiding, keeping him a secret. 
Jungkook knows it's wrong, because he’s keeping it a secret too. But once that first text was sent, they never stopped. He responds when he has time in between club duties, knowing you’ll reply when you get a moment alone. Your messages are short, random conversations that never crossed any lines, but he meant what he said, taking full advantage of having your number to coordinate your play dates. 
The guilt you feel slowly fades away with each passing day, becoming comfortable in your ways as you let him know what days you’ll be on that side of town, and before you know it, your hang outs become your favorite thing. You slowly start to consider Jungkook your friend, another rare slice of peace in your messy life. It makes you feel like your younger self, excited to speak to a cute boy and laugh until your cheeks hurt. 
And it should make you feel icky to have these thoughts about someone who wasn’t your boyfriend, but your relationship with Minho had been romantically dead for years now, not able to remember the last time he did something for you that didn’t solely benefit him. So you choose to enjoy the small flutters in your stomach that occur around Jungkook, allowing yourself to sit closer to him each time, friendly touches beginning to get more courageous while still toeing the line. 
Jungkook doesn’t mind it, he thought you were pretty and would let you trace the patches on his jacket or analyze his tattoos up close if that's what you wanted. You were the one with a boyfriend, who was he to tell you what was right or wrong for you to do, he wasn’t one to judge or pull a morality card on you considering the things he does in his club. It was all mostly innocent anyways, even now as you stand a good few feet away from each other, respective candy in each other's hands, attempting to toss them into your mouths. 
It was innocent. 
“God, your aim is horrible!” you laugh out, feeling the candy hit your forehead and bounce right off. 
“What are you talking about? That was a clear headshot.” He has that charming smirk on his face as he says it, tongue flicking against his lip ring while he laughs too. 
“You’re not trying to kill me Jungkook, we’re trying to see who wins first.” You swat the remnants of sugar off your face as you reach into your own bag for a piece of candy, motioning for him to be ready. He gets into position, slightly bending his knees and angling his head back with his mouth open, ready to catch whatever you throw. With a small snicker you grab four small pieces of candy, aiming right for his face with one eye shut and sending them flying. Jungkook is totally unsuspecting until suddenly, he’s being pelted all over his face, his eyes squeezing shut at the shock. 
“Dude,” he laughs, eyes finally opening up to spot you cackling away, perfectly content at your little stunt. 
“Okay, okay sorry. For real this time. I got it, I can feel it in my bones.” Jungkook should tell you no, say you wasted your turn and deliver payback, but you look too happy right now for him to do anything but smile and nod as he gets back into position once more. He sees the way you bring your hand close to your face, shutting one eye to try to aim, tongue slightly poking out in concentration before you toss the candy across a few feet of distance. 
Jungkook doesn’t even register that the candy successfully landed in his mouth until you’re gasping in shock. That’s when his eyes widen, his mouth shutting as he begins to chew, standing up straight and feeling his heart start to warm at how proud you look at having beat him. He closes the distance between you, extending a hand out for a high five that you gladly give him. 
Now that you’re closer, you see all the sprinkles of sugar on his face. It dusts along his cheekbones and the top of his nose, looking like small freckles on his skin. You give him an endearing smile as you cup his face and swipe it away from his skin. You do it without thinking really, tips of your fingers gently flicking away the evidence of your tiny prank. 
Jungkook’s chest tightens at the soft gesture, eyes wide as he watches you, too scared to move, almost like it would startle you or make you come to your senses and remember he was a Six. He chooses to just focus on how soft your hand feels against his cheek, how sweet you sound when you say he looks like a mess, your eyes filled with what he hopes is the same adoration he has as you look up at him, a lot closer than you need to be.
Jungkook knows all the sugar is gone now but you’re still there, thumb rubbing along his cheek, tracing the scar under his eye while your gaze lands on the piercing on his lip. He holds his breath when you look up at him once more, and maybe it's his wishful thinking but he swears the way you look at him tells him to make a move, so he does. Slowly at first, wanting to give you a chance to deny his advances, but you meet his lips before he can close the distance himself.
The innocence is gone now. Jungkook had felt something brewing with each of your interactions, chalking it off to pure friendliness, but he knows a small spark had been lit the second you started speaking to each other. 
The kiss burns, the guilt and betrayal to his club clawing at his mind but he doesn't care, welcoming it as he deepens it, sliding his hand into your hair and focusing on the way you let out a soft breath as he does so. It makes your mind spin, your hands gently looping around his neck to bring him closer. You don’t have time to think, too enveloped in the way his piercing feels against your lips, how his fingers softly rake through your hair, how he takes a deep breath when you kiss him back harder. 
It's brief, a small moment of weakness led by temptation, but you can’t deny how you both feel exhilarated, wide eyes and smiles on your faces when you pull back. "You taste like candy," you giggle.
“Your favorite,” he mumbles, still close enough to nudge the tip of his nose along yours. His voice is low as he lets reality settle, slowly inching back, his eyes meeting yours and seeing the small clouds of panic start to form around you. Reality seems to be hitting you too, fear of what would happen to him if Minho ever found out, or what would happen to you if he even had an inkling. A small harmless crush had just passed over into dangerous territory. 
“Hey,” Jungkook starts softly, hand gently coming to rest on your shoulder to bring you back to the present. “It doesn’t have to mean anything.”
“No, but it does,” you groan. It did mean something, it didn’t matter how small it seemed, but you know the kiss meant something. Your small panic had nothing to do with being unfaithful, you knew Minho cheated on you with any girls who were willing to show their loyalty to the club, and if it kept him off of you then you didn’t mind it. You were scared to put Jungkook in danger. “It means something and my boyfriend’s crazy, he’ll kill both of us if he finds out.”
“I know he is.” He shrugs, looking directly at you, seeing the shocked look on your face at his admission. 
“You know what?” you whisper. 
“I know he’s a psycho. I kind of put two and two together when you mentioned a boyfriend. It is Minho right?” When you nod slowly, still unsure how to respond he just continues speaking. “But look, I know. All of it. I know I’m not supposed to be speaking to you, let alone kissing you and enjoying it, but it happened. I know it’s wrong, that I should feel bad and I don’t, but I also know where my loyalties lie within the club and what rules I’m willing to bend. If you’re saying it means something, then it does.”
You can only stare at him, feeling the clouds of panic start to fade. “But I'm telling you, I know what's at risk and I won’t be using it to harm you.”
“I mean…it is both our asses on the line,” you mumble out, still feeling his hand on your shoulder. He smiles at your words now, making you slowly smile back. 
“So, we’re taking it to our graves?” His voice is light again, the playful tone you were used to back. When you nod he smiles wider. “Cool, should we kiss on it?”
Jungkook laughs when you shove his shoulder with a cackle, rolling your eyes as you step back, walking back into the bodega to get what you came for. “You’re so unserious. Get away from me.”
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The issue with this imaginary line being crossed is that it leaves you thinking “what’s next”, constantly wondering just what else you could get away with. One kiss shared turns into two which turns into five, given so casually it feels like second nature. It seems like both of your guards have dropped now, more at ease with each other, touches getting as bold as they could in public. 
“Are you sure my skin isn’t gonna burn off?” you joke, laughing when Jungkook gives you an eye roll. His jacket is in his hands, shaking it off before he’s swinging it around your frame, helping you slide your arms into it. He had jokingly said it would swallow you whole, and you honestly just wanted an excuse to be closer to him so when he suggested you try it on you couldn’t deny him. 
“You might burst into flames, so just drop and roll baby.” He snickers when you playfully glare at him. Jungkook looks down at you with a smile, his hands smoothing the collar before he’s taking a step back to admire how the large leather jacket looked on you. The patches cover the arms and back, his first initial, last name and rank displayed over the left breast pocket, something your finger comes up to trace absentmindedly.  
“I don’t know, the jacket suits you. You sure you don’t wanna become a Six?”
“Very funny Jungkook. They’ll be putting a Cobra on my tombstone when I’m dead.” 
He waves you off, reaching into his pocket to pull out his phone. “Let me live in my fantasy world, yeah?”
“Your fantasy world involves me being a Six?” you giggle, looking up at him with a sly smile.
“Don’t kink shame me. Now smile for the picture,” he sings out, bending down as he extends his arm out, ready to take a selfie. You had yet to take photos of you both, too scared to be caught by Minho, but you allowed Jungkook to document your newly formed friendship as much as he wanted, knowing he had less to worry about when it came to snooping. 
Your arms wrap around him, the tombstone patch on display as you both smile widely for the picture. He looks at it with a cheeky grin, mumbling out how cute he thought it was before putting his phone away. 
“Do you need the usual for your run today?” he asks, knowing Minho always had you stocking up his alcohol. 
“Not today. I’m technically supposed to be locked inside our place. A few Cobra’s headed out of state this morning for a meeting.”
Jungkook hums, having briefly heard of an arms deal happening out of state, he just hadn’t been aware it was the Cobra’s doing. “Why didn’t you go with?”
“Too risky.” You lean back against the textured wall of the building, still cozy in his jacket. Minho loved to have you right by his side at all times, so if he said it was safer for you to stay here then you wouldn’t question him. “He has to make sure his prized possession stays safe.”
Jungkook laughs, slinging an arm around you and bringing you to his side obnoxiously. “Well you tell him I have that covered.”
“Jungkook, he’d cut your tongue out. Stop it!” you cackle. 
“I’d like to see him fucking try,” he grunts out, enjoying the way you playfully swat at him. He’d like to think he could have Minho’s head served on a silver platter if he ever got close enough to put his hands on him. 
“What about you? Any fun club plans after our playdate?”
Jungkook sighs, a smile still on his face. “Nope. I’m officially clocked out.” Your laugh is felt against his side, only making his smile widen. “I just have to stop by the clubhouse to grab something before heading home.”
“How far is the clubhouse from here?” You’re looking up at him with a twinkle in your eye, your smile still as sweet as can be, but he senses some undertone that he hopes he isn’t imagining. 
“Not far, about 20 minutes. Why? You want a tour?”
That was all he had to ask before you were following his bike down the busy streets on his side of town. His jacket is still on you, providing you with a small sense of security, knowing if anyone spotted you they’d assume you were with him. It leaves you at ease, entering the secure lot of his clubhouse, coming to a stop beside him and glancing around as you take off your helmet. 
It’s empty, a few cars parked around that looked like they were in need of repair, but no other bikes or lingering people. Jungkook steps off his bike, motioning for you to follow him, excited at showing you his favorite place. 
As you follow his lead you instantly see how different Deep Six’s clubhouse is compared to the Cobras. The space is taken care of, decorated thoughtfully, a space made for business as well as hanging out with their friends and families. Touches of the club are nestled around, a large Harley on display on a far wall, a frame showing the timeline and evolution of their patch tucked between other photos, and the most obvious and slightly obnoxious ode to the club comes in the gallery wall displaying all of their mugshots. Cute. 
“It’s nothing fancy,” he mumbles, spreading his arms out as he stands in the middle of the main room. A brown tufted leather couch is right behind him, a giant pool table behind it and a fully loaded bar to the right. 
“Compared to ours it sure is.” The Cobra’s clubhouse was made for business only, the meeting room was kept in pristine condition while the rest of it was only made to be nice enough to house drunken members and whatever hangouts were in the process of joining. 
“Really?” When you nod he just frowns, approaching you to grab your hand and pull you along, trying to show you more. “I’ll show you my space.”
“Your space?” you wonder, smiling when he squeezes your palm lightly, leading you down a hall to the right. A few doors line both walls, different ranks tacked on the middle of them, coming to a stop in front of one that says Road Captain. You had never really paid attention to his rank on his jacket, never really caring to read anyone’s rank in general, but seeing it displayed on this door let you know just how deep his involvement in his club was. 
“Only ranked members get private rooms.” He sounds almost bashful as he says this, grinning before opening up the door and switching on the light. A desk is on the right, paperwork neatly stacked in piles, a dresser is along the other wall with pictures tacked onto a cork board right above it. His bed is in the middle, sheets a dark gray and neatly made. It’s nestled between two windows on either side, letting in the slowly setting sunlight. 
You step into the room, walking to the dresser to look at the photos he has tacked up. He looks younger in some of these, hair messier and longer, no piercing or tattoos yet as he leans on his bike, another member attempting to put him in a headlock. They’re all club photos for the most part, the only one standing out is a photo of a teenage looking Jungkook holding up a diploma with what you can only assume is his parents beside him. 
“Cute,” you mumble out, smiling as you turn back to face him. It was odd to feel this calm around him, so used to the faint ticking heard in your head, reminding you that you were running on borrowed time, forced to interact in small bursts. With Minho completely occupied, the ticking disappears, allowing you to fully enjoy the moment for what it was. 
“I didn’t expect you to be sentimental like this,” you tease, smiling at the way his eyes narrow at you as he approaches, his tongue poking at his cheek as he fights a smile. 
“I’m full of surprises,” he murmurs, standing a foot away from you now, peering down at you with an aura of playfulness surrounding him. Your hands reach out to gently play with the material of his shirt, tugging him even closer. Jungkook could feel the tension, the same slowly growing tension that had been brewing with each day spent together. He can only watch as your hands slowly trail up his stomach, gliding up to gingerly rest against his chest. 
He wanted to kiss you, wanted to feel you gasp against his lips, but the last thing he wanted to do was make you feel like he had suggested showing you his clubhouse to be a total sleaze. Jungkook knew the line had grown blurry, kisses and touches shared with ease, but he wasn’t bold enough to assume you’d be okay with taking anything further. So when you decide to make the first move, leaning up to ghost your lips over his own, he can only hold his breath, eyes fluttering shut when you softly press them together. 
Your hands rest on his shoulders now, holding yourself steady as you kiss him, feeling the way his body melts into it. You pull away with a soft smack of your lips, inching back slightly. “What other surprises do you have?” 
Jungkook holds in a groan when you start to pepper kisses on the corner of his mouth, trailing them down his jaw, gently nipping the skin of his throat right below his ear. You giggle when he shudders, his hands gripping your waist, fingers tightening around you. 
“If you let me, I can show you.” His voice holds a tinge of unsureness, wanting for you to be okay with this without sounding pushy. But Jungkook had been thinking of this since your first kiss so he couldn’t help the desperate tone laced between each syllable. 
“Show me. Show me whatever you want,” you whisper, hand coming up to cup his cheek, looking up at him through your lashes. When his eyes meet yours he finally lets his resolve crack, attaching your lips once more in a heated kiss, finally feeling you gasp against him. 
Jungkook is a little ashamed to admit how easily this was affecting him, his heart already racing in his chest, stomach fluttering with each shared moan, bulge growing in his jeans when your hand slips into his hair and pulls. His hands slide down the material of his jacket you have on, pulling it off your body and tossing it aside without a care. He feels you smile against his lips at the action, clearly enjoying the way his hands roam along your body, desperate to touch you in ways he wasn’t able to before. 
It’s an eager dance to his bed, blindly stepping back as he guides you to it until your knees buckle against the mattress, giggling as you flop onto it. Your arm rests back to hold you steady, other hand gripping onto his shirt to yank him back over you, reattaching your lips in a heated kiss. 
Jungkook laughs into the kiss, his arm wrapping around you to haul you further up the bed properly, slowly pushing you back until you’re flat against the bed. His body settles over you, the cute visual of his hair framing his face is the first thing you see when your eyes flutter open as he pulls back. His eyes are hooded as he stares at you, his hand coming up to gently cradle your jaw, thumb rubbing along your bottom lip as he smirks before dipping back down. 
He kisses the corner of your mouth, following the same trail you had left on him earlier, smiling against your skin when you shudder as he nips your neck. Slowly, his hands slide down your body, fingers toying with the hem of your shirt and tugging it up to reveal your stomach. 
“Can I take this off?” he mumbles, eyes peering up at you for confirmation. When you breathe out a yes, he slides it further up, helping you slip out of your shirt fully before you’re settling on your back again. A thin bralette covers your boobs, lacey cups revealing a glimmer on your nipples that has him tilting his head in curiosity. 
You catch what he’s looking at, smile spreading on your lips as you reach up to touch his jaw, finger gently tapping along the small mole he has below his lips. “I’m full of surprises too,” you mumble, smiling wider when he boldly cups your chest, thumb swiping at your pierced nipple through the lace. 
“I can see that,” he mumurs, voice low and raspy, making your stomach flip. He looks at you once more, brow cocking up in question as his fingers toy with the fabric. You nod your head, knowing what he wanted, allowing him to slip the straps off your shoulders before he’s sliding a palm under your back to properly unclasp your bra, giving himself the perfect view. 
Its hard to ignore the small burst of confidence that surges through you when he groans, eyes hooded while he leans down to pepper kisses down your chest. It had been such a long time since you’ve felt truly desired, since you’ve been kissed delicately, had hands touch your skin so gently it tickles and leaves you breathing out a laugh. So you relish in it. You shut your eyes and enjoy the way Jungkook presses wet kisses to your skin, you let yourself gasp in pleasure when he wraps his lips around your pierced nipple and sucks. 
Your hands instinctively slip through his hair, fingers yanking his thick strands as he hums against your skin, tongue flicking along the piercing. Jungkook feels the way you jut your chest further out, back arching at the sensation. A deep groan escapes you as his palm comes up to cup your other breast, the cool feeling of his rings sending a shiver down your spine. 
He smiles as he pulls back, cocky with eyes twinkling with mischief as his fingers playfully dance down your body. 
His eyes are locked with yours as his fingers reach the waistband of your jeans, teasingly dipping past it as he lifts a brow in question. He needed clear boundaries, not wanting to cross any lines. You find it cute, how despite the fact that you’re laying here, chest heaving with anticipation, eyes surely wild with desire, he’s still wanting to make sure. 
“Can I?” He repeats his earlier question, features soft as he waits for your answer. 
“We need to even out the playing field first Six,” you tease, smiling when he chuckles and points to his shirt. You nod, staring up at him from the bed as he kneels up, staring right at you as he reaches behind his neck and yanks the shirt off of his body. 
Your blood warms up further at the sight of him, seeing his muscles flex under his tattoos as he straightens back up. Jungkook tilts his head slightly, biting on his lip ring as he fights back the smile at your clear admiration. The black marks his skin, some tattoos looking darker than others, showing you just which ones were recent additions. 
The owl on his chest looks the brightest, edges still crisp, shading looking rich in the skulls beneath each wing. They seem to move as Jungkook takes a breath, snapping you out of it as you look back into his eyes. 
“Is this even enough for you?” he jokes, smiling wide when you nod in confirmation, your eyes following his movements as his hand returns to your jeans. You watch with bated breath as he unbuttons the top, slowly pulling down the zipper before his hands hook into the waistband and starts to tug. Your hips lift from the bed to help, allowing him to pull them off, tossing them to the side along with your shoes and socks. 
You can feel your stomach flipping with nerves, the worry of doing something new with someone new, the small clouds of insecurity rolling in, wondering if you looked good in this angle, if maybe Jungkook preferred you to look a certain way or wear cute underwear with bows on the front instead of the black regular cotton ones you currently have on. 
It all settles down as he drops lowers, eyes looking up at you as he presses kisses onto your hips and slowly tugs your underwear down, clearly not paying any mind to them. A trail of goosebumps blossom down your thighs, following your underwear as he pulls them off too. He stands up once more, eyes swimming with want as he sees you. 
“Let me get a good look at you,” he murmurs when he notices the way your arms begin to want to cover yourself up at being fully exposed. He thinks it's cute how shy you seem now, eyes bouncing away from his as he takes his time drinking you in. With your eyes diverted, he thinks it's a great time to dive in, his hands coming down to grip your palms while his face nudges its way into the crook of your neck to kiss your skin, smiling at the way you gasp and laugh at the ticklish feeling
“Jungkook!” you giggle, feeling his hands pin your own down on the bed, his mouth traveling down your body as he guides your hands into his hair, letting you know he wants you to keep playing with the strands. Your finger twirls his hair around, feeling him smile against your skin as he descends once more. 
“Everything about you is so pretty,” he mumbles into your stomach, eyes peering up at you while his hands return to your hips, slowly sliding down to your thighs to grip the flesh. Wet kisses smack into your skin, leaving a trail on each hip and down your thigh until he’s suddenly biting. He laughs when you gasp, your fingers tugging his hair on instinct when you look down with a shocked expression. 
“Looked so good you had to take a bite?” you joke, smiling down at him, feeling the fluttering in your stomach when he winks. 
“Oh I need more than just a bite,” he groans, fingers tightening their hold on your thighs before he presses a kiss directly onto your mound, slowly sticking his tongue out to gently flick along your slit. 
Jungkook loves the way your breath gets shaky as you exhale, a soft moan of his name reaching his ears when he gently parts your folds and teasingly flicks against your clit. A part of him knows this might be the one and only time he’ll ever get to experience you like this, the only time he’ll see you flush on his bed, gasping for more as your hips roll into him. So he wants to store every moment in his brain, keep it locked away until the next time he misses you. 
“Fuck Jungkook, that feels good,” you moan, fingers locked in his hair, keeping him close as he ravishes you. The praise makes his ego grow, lips wrapping around your clit and sucking with the perfect amount of pressure. It makes your stomach tense, short little zaps of electricity flowing through your body with each flick of his tongue. 
“Good, I just wanna make you feel good.” He leans back a bit, admiring the look of your sodden folds for a moment before he's letting a glob of spit drip from his mouth directly onto your clit. He bites his lip as his fingers spread it around, coating his digits as he circles your entrance. His eyes meet yours again, brow raised in question, smiling when you nod in response. Slowly, he pushes forward, eyes focused on your reaction, seeing the way you bite down on your lip as his finger sinks in. 
Jungkook tries not to let his mind get carried away when he feels your walls fluttering around his digit, already imagining how you would feel around him, feeling his cock aching in his jeans as he sinks a second finger in to properly stretch you out. With each thrust of his fingers his mind wanders further, the need to see you falling apart leading his mouth back onto you, the combining sensation making you moan louder. 
The stretch of his fingers has your head spinning, eyes falling shut as you mewl on his sheets, fingers raking through his hair. “More Jungkook, please,” you whimper, not able to get enough of him. 
The desperation lacing your voice makes Jungkook’s heart flutter, ready to comply with anything you want. He moans against your folds, a third finger adding to the delicious stretch. The wet clicks of his fingers thrusting into your drenched pussy fill the room, and it's the greed living inside of Jungkook that makes him want to thrust into you faster, make it so that all you can hear is the sound of your pleasure. 
Your breath hitches in your throat when he curves his fingers upwards, tickling the sweet spot that makes your eyes roll. That’s when you feel the familiar cool sensation of his rings once more. You were used to feeling them on your arms when he playfully pulled you around, used to the feeling of them on your cheeks when he gripped your face before kissing you, but feeling them against your cunt each time he thrust his fingers forward, it made your body burn up with lust. There was something about having the name of a club you were told to stay far away from pressed against you salaciously that only made the waves of pleasure you feel crash over you even harder. 
“Mm, close Jungkook,” you whine, your free hand sliding up your body to tug and pinch at your nipples. Jungkook peers up at you from between his thighs and the visual of you playing with yourself while he ate you out has him making a mess in his underwear. He doesn’t even care how easy it is for you to make him this needy, knowing you were enjoying yourself because of him was all that mattered. 
“Wanna feel you baby,” he mutters out, lips shiny with your arousal, fingers scissoring inside of you, feeling the way your walls tighten around him. Your hands grip his hair tighter, making him hiss, a breathy laugh hitting your messy folds when you guide his mouth back onto you. 
Jungkook knows you’re right on the edge, the craving for your release making you arch your back, moans of his name slurring together with pleas for more more. All it takes is a few more flicks of his tongue for your climax to crest, the prettiest moan he’s ever heard reaching his ears as you gush around his fingers. 
“There you go, good girl,” he groans, pulling back as he licks his lips, staring at your trembling body with eyes swimming with lust. His thumb replaces his mouth, rubbing your swollen clit, enjoying the way you writhe at the slight overstimulation. 
“Ah, ‘Guk,” you whimper. And the new nickname has him smiling, loving the way it sounds coming from you so much he almost doesn’t want to stop. It takes your small hands coming down to grip his wrist for him to finally pull away, your soft giggles of enjoyment coming to a halt when he slips his fingers into his mouth. 
“Told you I needed more than just a bite,” he teases, making an absolute show of licking his fingers. “What about you, are you satisfied?”
You lift yourself up with one arm, the other reaching forward to grip his belt loop, tugging him closer as you look up at him through your lashes. “Mm, no I don’t think I am.” His abs tense when your finger trails along his skin, toying with the button on his jeans, slowly popping them open and pulling down the zipper. 
“Then I need to fix that,” he mumbles, tongue flicking his lip ring as he stares down at you, watching the way you reach down to palm at his bulge. Your face lights up at his words, a smile spreading on your face as he helps you tug down his jeans, obviously eager. Jungkook’s smirk only deepens when your eyes widen once you finally release his cock, a small gasp escaping you at the size of him. 
Pearly beads of precum collect at his tip, swollen and aching for your touch, so when you finally grasp his length and swipe your thumb along the bulbous tip he lets out a deep groan that has your core clenching. 
“Fuck, babe.” He grunts when your palm starts to slide up and down, his eyes focused on the way you slowly inch forward, your tongue peeking out to gently lick his tip. Jungkook knows he’s in trouble, already feeling his body react to your touch. All you had done was give him a few teasing touches and his mind was already spinning. Its an inner battle as he watches you take more of him into your mouth, his jaw dropping at the warm feeling, hands clenching by his side when you moan at the taste of him. 
“Y/N,” he groans, “you’re gonna make me cum too fast.” You pop off of him with a wet smack, a saccharine smile on your lips as you giggle. 
“And that’s a bad thing?” Your head tilts as you question him, hand still lazily pumping his length. 
“It is when I want to fuck you first.” That makes your hand finally stop, brows raising in interest. Your free hand slides up his body, carefully cupping his face, guiding him down to kiss you. 
“Then fuck me, Jungkook. I’m yours,” you murmur against his lips, feeling him groan against you as he kisses you harder. You know what you mean. You’re his for the night, despite how strong your connection with him is, the reality was that as long as Minho had his claws sunk into you, there would never be a chance for you and Jungkook to delve deeper into this relationship. But this tiny bubble you were both in was enough for you. 
The energy is different than what you’re used to, the both of you smiling through the kisses, soft words whispered against skin as you help him take off his jeans. Jungkook’s laugh is infectious when you gasp at the sight of his thighs, the double headed wolf tattoo catching your attention immediately, praising it under your breath before he’s kissing you once more, telling you he’ll let you properly see it later as his hands grope your sides. 
“How do you want me?” you mumble, gently nipping his lip. 
“If it was my way I’d have you in every position I could think of. You tell me, baby.” If Jungkook let his selfish desires take over, he’d tell you he wanted you to ride him, let you bounce on top of him and use him while he got to watch your pretty face. But he can’t be that selfish, even if the small pestering voice in his head tells him that this might be his only chance to. Still, his eyes are soft as he pulls back, ringed hand caressing your face with a tenderness that makes your heart clench
“Can I ride you?” Your voice is timid, just above a whisper, but it makes Jungkook shut his eyes and groan. You see, he wasn’t corny, didn’t believe in fate or anything like that, but for a brief moment Jungkook's convinced this was meant to be. 
“Fuck,” he groans, leaning forward to rest his forhead against yours. “Yes, please.”
The way he begs makes your pussy ache, hips instinctively rolling up into his, enjoying the way he hisses, rutting his cock against your inner thigh. The beads of precum leak off his tip, leaving a small puddle by your hip, smeared around as he repeats the action. 
“O-okay,” you gasp, biting down on your lip as you peek at the visual, trying not to get lost in the way he teases himself. “Let me ‘Guk, wanna feel you.”
He nods, tendrils of hair tickling your face as he kisses you again before leaning back. You try not to stare but it's so hard when he looks like that, length hard and bobbing as he rummages through the drawer by his bed, a sheepish smile on his lips when he plucks out a shiny square packet. 
Your heart races in your chest as you sit up, coming onto your knees and crawling to the head of the bed, gently patting the space next to you. Jungkook’s quick to settle beside you, back leaning against the small headboard, large hands reaching to grab your hips and hoist you over his thighs. A small laugh escapes you at being manhandled, the toned muscles of his thighs felt underneath you, his cock poking at your belly from your proximity. 
Your eyes are glued to it, watching in awe as he pulls out the condom and carefully rolls it on, a small sigh meeting your ears. 
“Can’t wait to feel you,” you whisper, pressing a kiss to his jaw, your hand meeting his around his cock as you lift your hips just enough. His free hand finds your hip again as you guide his tip to your entrance, teasingly circling it, slipping the tip inside for a second before popping it back out, the two of you gasping at the feeling. 
“Mm, sit on it,” he groans, brows pinched together as he nudges his nose into your neck. Wet kisses mark your skin, his hand getting tighter on your hip when you repeat the action again before finally sinking further down. Your walls clench around him, the stretch making you whine. You had seen his size, knowing just how big he was, but now that he’s inside of you and you feel it, you pace yourself. 
It's unintentionally torturous, the warm tightness slowly enveloping more of him and all he could do was clench his jaw and grip you harder. Jungkook is patient, fighting every urge he has to thrust up or sit you down fully. Instead he murmurs praises into your skin, tells you how good you feel, how good you’re doing, that you’re almost there until you’re butt rests flush against his thighs. 
A shuddering breath hits his shoulder, your face coming up to stare at him properly now. He’s staring at you with hooded eyes, mouth slightly opened as he gasps when your walls flutter. 
“So big,” you mumble, kissing him gently, lips ghosting over his, hips slowly lifting an inch before coming back down. 
“I know, baby. Take your time.” He groans, kissing you harder, teeth clicking together in his haste, breathing into each other. Jungkook felt like he was dreaming, some sick fantasy teasing him while he slept, giving him a taste of you before reality would settle in and snatch it all away. But you don’t usually feel this way in his dreams, don’t dig your nails into his shoulder as you quicken your pace, your wetness dripping down his cock and pooling at the base. And Jungkook is glad that he prefers reality over his dreams for once. 
“Oh god ‘Guk,” you moan, skin slapping together with each rise and fall of your hips. His lips are coated in a sheen of spit, swollen from your kisses and gentle bites, but he gives you a smile, clearly enjoying your reaction to him. 
“Does it feel good baby?” he murmurs, voice deep and raspy at the edges, his hand sliding up your thighs, pressing into your tummy with a tilt to his head. “Feel nice and full?”
You shudder at his question, feeling the pressure of his palm, and you swear you can feel the tip of his cock nudging into it. “Y-yes, so good, so full. Just wanna fuck you forever.”
He hums, feeling your words deep inside of him. It makes him melt into the headboard, hand traveling further up until he has a handful of your tits in them. Jungkook plays with them a bit, finger pinching and twisting the hard buds, tugging gently at the silver bar, hearing you moan at the sensation. 
“You can fuck me whenever you want,” he grunts at a particular drop of your hips, the wetness aiding in your pace. 
“Really?”
“Mhm,” he groans, thumb rolling along your nipple, softly rutting up into you. “Just text me whenever you want it. Pretty face, delicious pussy, I’ll always be here for you.”
“You’re such a romantic,” you giggle, throwing your head back as you get lost in the motion. Jungkook laughs with you, arm scooping around your back to pull you closer, his mouth kissing up and down your neck, teeth grazing the surface with the urge to suck but he knows better. 
“Just for you,” he breathes into your skin, feeling you laugh again. 
It feels like nothing else matters, not the potential consequences to this, no worry about what this meant for your special friendship. All that matters is that Jungkook is grabbing you like he can’t get enough of you, kissing you like his life depends on it, not shy at all at vocalizing how good it all feels. 
“Wanna cum,” you gasp, cupping his face, seeing the way he focuses on your lips as you speak. 
“Yeah? Tell me what you need.” He bends his knees slightly, pressure on his heels as he fucks up into you. The jiggle of your tits makes his mouth water, caught in a daze. 
“Need you to touch me.” It's the softest plea, tone dripping and needy, making Jungkook nod immediately. He bites his lip as he trails a hand up your chest, over your neck until he’s cupping your jaw, his thumb rubbing along your lower lip. With a gentle tap, you’re opening up, eyes locked together as you wrap your lips around the digit and suck, giving him a teasing bite as he tries to pull it out. 
He smiles at you, bringing down his soaked thumb in between your bodies until it reaches home directly onto your clit. The sudden touch makes you gasp, bundle of nerves swollen and sensitive, and its almost too much. But he’s gentle, easing you into the feeling, only applying more pressure when you finally relax, falling back into the delicious rhythm you have going. 
Jungkook can feel the coil tightening inside of him with each pulse of your pussy, walls clamping around him on each lift, making an absolute mess as the arousal drips onto his balls. 
“More?” He quickens his finger, circling your clit faster, paying close attention to your reaction. 
“Oh, fuck. No, like that. Just like that.” So he does, jaw dropped open as he watches you get lost in it all, bouncing on top of him as fast as you wanted, using him just like he wanted. Your thighs burn but it feels too good to think about stopping, the beginning signs of your orgasm licking at your skin, encouraging you to fuck him faster. You can hear how messy you’re leaving him, the squelch of your pussy blending in with the moans and thumping of the headboard. 
“Close, fuck—ah,” you stutter and gasp, brows pinched together tightly, only able to stare at him as you start to fall apart. He looks at you in awe, breathing in time with you, matching each gasp and moan, thumb slipping around in your slick. It's the accidental flick of his that has you tumbling over the edge, nearly shrieking out his name as your high comes barreling at you. 
Jungkook curses under his breath as you tremble above him. Your hand curls into his hair, yanking him forward into a messy kiss as you moan unabashedly, his thumb continuing to flick along your puffy clit for another minute to work you through it before he’s clutching onto your hips and controlling your speed. You’re still twitching at the aftershocks, small sparks kissing your skin and leaving you in a comfortable haze as you tangle your tongue with his, pulling back with a smile so sweet. 
“I wanna see you cum Jungkook,” you kiss him again, teasing him as you pull away and watch him chase you for more. “Made me feel so good, want you to cum for me.”
Jungkook groans, nodding as he wraps his arm around you, pushing off the headboard until the air is whooshing around you and your back is meeting the sheets once more. He cages you in easily, arms under your back, cradling your head as he buries his face into your neck and surges his hips into you. 
Your breath leaves you at the change in position, legs wrapping around his hips, shuddering as his pelvis nudges your sensitive clit. He doesn’t care how desperate he looks, fucking you like he was starved of affection, the need to cum taking over all of his senses. 
“Fuck, you’re so hot.” Your nails dig into his back, scratching along his skin, making him groan into your ear. His thrusts grow more sporadic, shallow, losing their grace as your purposefully clench around him. 
“Oh shit, you’re gonna make me cum.” He whines, voice breathy against your neck, and you swear you’ll cum again. 
“Yeah? Cum for me, c’mon,” you whisper, grazing his back and tightening your walls again. He nods against you before he’s leaning back, giving you the view you so sweetly asked for. His thick brows are furrowed on his forehead, eyes heady with lust, and a deep groan of your name spilling past his lips as he cums. Your feet urge him closer as his hips stutter, rutting into you to milk his orgasm as he fills up the condom. 
The room falls quiet for a moment, the both of you catching your breath, hearts slowing down as the high settles over your bones. And then he’s laughing, flopping back over you and tightening his hold on your body. 
“Why are you laughing?” You giggle too, hands running through his hair as you smile in a love sick daze. 
“I don’t think I’ve ever came that hard,” he admits sheepishly, kissing your warm skin, leaning back with a childish smile as he kisses your nose and ever so slowly starts to pull out of you. The sound is filthy, core sensitive and messy, and when he fully pulls out you can’t help but close your legs. 
He simply laughs, hand softly rubbing at your calves before he’s getting up and disposing of the condom. 
You’re still in that same foggy haze from earlier, even as Jungkook returns with a damp cloth to clean you up, all you can do is hum in thanks as you melt into his sheets. It doesn’t take long for him to settle in beside you again, holding you close, hand tickling the skin of the thigh you have hooked over his hip. 
“You have such pretty legs.” It’s a soft compliment, almost like it wasn’t meant to escape him. But when you look at him with a sincere smile he continues. “If you were mine I’d beg you to wear skirts all the time just so I could stare at them, touch them—“ he grips your thighs playfully, smiling at your laugh, “I’d be able to flick it up so easily and fuck you in it.”
Your laugh is louder now, your hand playfully swatting at his chest at how quick he was to get raunchy. 
If you were mine. 
That phrase repeats in your mind, sounding like a sweet song that you’d never get tired of hearing. 
“I’ll wear one at the meet next week,” you promise, running your hand over his chest. You knew you’d be seeing him there, able to freely ogle at him with all the neighboring clubs gathered together in an attempt to keep the peace. You might not be able to interact like you usually do, but just seeing him was enough. 
Just as he’s about to reply, the sound of a familiar engine cuts the air. You freeze instantly, wide eyes staring at Jungkook, seeing the confused look on his face. He lifts a hand up, motioning for you to stay as he sits up straighter, ears perking up when he hears the front door of the clubhouse open up. 
“Stay here. They won’t come in here but I know they saw my bike so I’ll get rid of them.” You can only nod as he hurries into his clothes, buttoning his jeans in a haste and deciding to forgo his shirt and shoes as he all but runs out of the room, shutting the door behind him. 
The haze you felt earlier is long gone, anxiety settling into your bones once more, realizing just what sort of situation you were in. Jungkook seemed to think the golden rule of staying away from Cobras was fine with you, but who knows just what kind of loyalty the Six member in the other room holds. 
All you needed was one man hell bent on loyalty to come barging in, and you don’t even want to think of what would become of you. Your heart rattles in your chest as you sit up too, eyes glancing around the room to find your pile of clothes. 
You can hear them mumbling in the main room, Jungkook’s laughter sounding out as he jokes around with his fellow brother. You can only imagine what he’s telling him, maybe explaining why theres a second bike parked next to his, or giving his reason for being shirtless and disheveled at the clubhouse this late in the day. Whatever is going on, you know you shouldn’t wait around to see how it plays out. Being with Jungkook makes reality pause, fade away and leave you to believe that things were meant to be this easy. 
But that's not your reality. 
You knew you wanted this to happen, could still feel the butterflies in your stomach as you remember the way he kissed your skin. But you couldn’t let the line be crossed this far again. You’re not sure karma would be too kind to you the next time. 
As quiet as you can, you slip out of bed, carefully putting your clothes back on and looking at the desk in the corner. Before you overthink it, you grab the pen and notepad he has resting on top of paperwork, scribbling out a quick note before you’re returning to his bedside, yanking up the curtains and wiggling the window open to slip out. 
Back in the main room, Jungkook is sitting on the bar stool, Hoseok resting against the counter as they both joke around. Jungkook is thankful that Hoseok doesn’t seem to ask too many questions, knowing very well that he must have some girl in the room, but he wasn’t nosey enough to want to know who. 
“So you’re not gonna introduce your friend?” he jokes, giving Jungkook a coy smile, enjoying the way his younger friend blushes and shoves his shoulder. 
“No you weirdo, you fucking scared her by showing up like this. Why the hell are you here anyway?”
Hoseok cackles, pushing away from the counter and walking towards the meeting room. “Sorry, I didn't mean to be a cockblock. I forgot to grab some paperwork.” The way he says it makes it seem like it was work documents, contracts that needed to be signed instead of files detailing the amount of guns they’d be receiving in the next drop. He disappears into the room, returning a few moments later with the folder in his hand. “I’ll be out of your hair now.”
And he does just that, waving goodbye and stepping back outside. But as he approaches his bike he realizes the bike he had seen next to Jungkook’s was missing now. 
Jungkook is none the wiser as he walks back to his room, a smile on his face that falls when he doesn’t see you on the bed. The sheets are a mess, your clothes are missing, his curtains are drawn up and his window remains cracked open. He steps closer now, a white sheet of paper catching his attention on his desk. 
Thanks for the tour, I think your room might be my favorite<3 Remember, we take this to our graves. We’ll kiss on it over sour straws soon x
Ps. I’ll see you at the meet, I’ll be the one in the short skirt. 
Maybe it's the sick hopefulness he feels in his chest, but Jungkook can’t help but smile as he thinks this won’t be the last time afterall.
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unreliablesnake · 4 months
Text
Big reputation (Simon Riley x reader)
Summary: You got injured on the field and now Ghost feels bad. Well, maybe it's not just guilt...
Note: The people have spoken. Soft!Ghost. Fluff. Short story.
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In your previous team you managed to enrage a general that you shouldn’t have, and apparently kicking you out of your comfortable position was his way of punishing you. So now you came to meet your new team at the base, already having ideas of who’s who based on rumors circulating in the military. 
There was Price who was fair and relatively calm, Gaz who was loyal to the fault and was a surprisingly nice guy in general once he warmed up to you, and you couldn’t forget about Soap–whose call sign you found utterly ridiculous–who was a big mouthed but reportedly funny Scotsman. 
And then there was Ghost, the man who was a mystery to most. No one has seen his face from the people you talked to about the team, and you had a feeling you wouldn’t get to see it either. But that was okay. Him being a big and scary guy wearing a skull mask that every single person was terrified of was more than enough to make you cautious around him.
Fast forward to four months later, when Ghost became your shadow after a fucked up mission where you got hurt. It happened under his watch so he was probably blaming himself, but he never really gave you a reason why he was always near you. Soap was the one who mentioned him possibly feeling guilty, and since you had no better idea, you believed it to be true.
The big scary guy didn’t seem so scary anymore. He was more like a loyal guard dog that followed you everywhere and scared off people you didn't want to be around.
“You should go to bed, it’s late,” he said one evening after a briefing.
It was only the two of you in the room, everyone had left already, but he was going through some reports before taking them to Price. You let out a sigh and leaned forward to rest your elbows on your thighs as you observed him. He had left the room before, but after it emptied and it was only you in there, he came back with the files. Out of nowhere. Without a warning. He mumbled something about needing a quiet place, but that was a terrible excuse considering he had his room to go to.
For some reason he glanced over at you every once in a while, watching you as if there was something he wanted to say to you. But every time your eyes met, he returned his attention to the papers in front of him. He didn’t speak up and you weren’t about to bother him with questions. Ghost was usually pissed if someone asked too many questions, this is how Soap got burned a few times in the past. 
Then something changed. He closed the folder and turned his attention to you again, this time not shying away from making it obvious he was staring. You raised an eyebrow in question, hoping he would say something, but he remained silent. With a groan you stood up and walked over to him, gently pushing the folder away so you could sit on the edge of the desk next to the lieutenant. 
His hand inched closer, just enough to let his little finger brush your thigh. “It’s late,” he repeated his previous statement. 
“I’m not sleepy,” you replied with a shrug. “Why have you been watching me like this? Did I do something wrong?”
“No.”
“Then?”
Ghost sighed under the mask and pulled out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. He was toying with it for a few moments, his eyes focused on the item instead of you. “You’re causing me quite a few sleepless nights, Rabid,” he muttered as he pulled out a cigarette from the box. He called you by the nickname that awful general had given you a few months back, and you knew he never did that without a good reason. 
What were you supposed to say to that? I’m sorry? No, that wouldn’t be right. So you chose to be careful with your next words. “You can’t sleep?” you asked him, genuinely interested. 
“Not when all I can think about is you and what I’ve done to you,” he replied quietly. 
“Why, what have you done to me?”
He shook his head, mumbled something like ‘fuck it’, then pulled his mask to his nose and lit the cigarette. You couldn’t help but smile at the thought of him getting in trouble for this. Price would be angry, because he believed if he could refrain from lighting a cigar indoors, so could others. So now that Ghost was inhaling the smoke with closed eyes, you didn’t know what to do or say. He would eventually speak up, right? 
Just when you were beginning to think he wouldn’t talk to you, his amber eyes landed on you and he said, “I sent you in there. You got hurt because of me.”
Soap had been right, he really did blame himself. Interesting. “Ghost, that wasn’t your fault,” you assured him. “Shit happens, it comes with the job. Don’t blame yourself.”
His free hand moved to take yours in his, and his long, thick, and gloved fingers wrapped around it gently. “I’m not blaming myself for you getting hurt, I know it comes with the job. I just can’t stop thinking about the what ifs. What if you died? What if you got so injured you would be discharged from the force? What if you were mad at me? What if you left me behind?” This last one made you raise an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you haven’t considered this after what happened,” he told you. 
“Never thought about leaving you behind,” you admitted. “You would mind? If I left and we never met again, I mean.”
Instead of answering, he raised your hand to his lips. “You and me… That would be quite a conversation, wouldn’t it? With your reputation and mine… Well,” he said, and you could see the shining in his eyes that gave away he was smiling. 
It took you a minute to realize he was talking about the two of you being in a romantic relationship. He was right, this would be huge. You were also a lieutenant, he wasn’t your superior, but people feared you both for different reasons. Ghost was… Ghost. All he had to do was stare at someone for five seconds and they would run away screaming. You, on the other hand, were feared because you were unpredictable. One wrong word and you would be at the poor bastard’s throat. 
So yeah. If there was anything to know, people wouldn’t shut up about it. You wondered if he was aware of the bets recruits were making about you. If there was anyone from base you slept with, it would be Ghost according to most of them. Maybe they were right. Maybe that was bound to happen. But maybe Ghost was taking part in the bet for fun. 
“I don’t care about that bet,” he suddenly spoke up. You were terrified for a moment since you had no idea how he figured out what you were just talking about. “I care about you. Would you mind if I kissed you?” 
You were too stunned to respond, all you could think about was the fact he dared to ask you this. You weren’t that close, not with him keeping a comfortable distance all the time. “Right now? Yeah, I would mind. Let’s just get to know each other first, yeah? Maybe over a drink.”
Ghost placed a soft kiss on your hand. “Anything you want,” he told you with a smile before pulling down the mask and getting rid of the remains of his cigarette. 
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reginaphalange2403 · 6 months
Text
Never Again
Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Summary: Despite an intense dislike for one another, you and Bucky begrudgingly get paired together for a mission. You’re forced to look past your differences when things so south.
Warnings: Canon level violence, asshole Bucky (at first), enemies to lovers vibes, other mcu characters make appearances. Word count: 6.1k
a/n: AHHHH my first fic in like 6 months! this is also the first time I've ever written for Bucky or written anything like this. It was a lot of fun and I hope I did him justice lol. Enjoy!
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The loud hissing of the Keurig was a rude awakening to your 7am start to the day. Unfortunately, Steve had decided to hold a team conference meeting at 8. Why he chose to annoy you all like this, you weren’t sure. 
“Are you fucking done yet?” You instantly recognized the deep, rough voice muttering under his breath behind you. Bucky had his arms folded and was impatiently waiting for you to finish up at the machine so he could make his own cup.
“Already have a stick up your ass today, huh Barnes?” You spit back at him before moving to let him use the Keurig.
“Well, I wouldn’t have one if you weren’t the first thing I saw when I came down the stairs.” 
Damn. That stung. “Have you ever been nice for once in your life? Or is being a dick just a permanent part of your personality?” 
At your words, Bucky looked up at you and feigned offense “Oh, I’m nice” He assured you in an almost sweet tone, before turning cold again “…to people that deserve it.”
You rolled your eyes at him, muttering a ‘whatever’, and left the kitchen to go take a seat in the conference room. Unfortunately, that wasn’t an atypical conversation for you to have with Bucky. Ever since you had joined the team almost a year ago - at Natasha Romanoff’s request - Bucky had been anything but welcoming. At first, you thought it was just friendly banter, him trying to sarcastically intimidate you, but it was clear by now that he genuinely had a deep distaste for you. 
Soon enough, everyone else started to file in for the meeting. Nat smiled as she took the seat next to you, her regular spot, and quietly started asking you about your morning. Bucky was the last one to enter the room, and by that point the only seat left was the one on your other side. 
He glared at you as he sat down. 
“It’s not my fault you’re always late to these things” You quipped under your breath.
“Don’t push it, sweetheart” Bucky frustratingly muttered, and you quickly opened your mouth to reply before Natasha interrupted,
“Don’t bother with him, Y/N. He’s always a grump in the mornings” 
‘No, he’s always a grump to me’ you thought to yourself, but kept your mouth shut. 
“Good Morning, everyone” Steve finally got started with the meeting, a cheery grin on his face that was all too happy for 8am, in your opinion.
“As you all know, for months now we’ve been trying to track down where exactly Ian Haverford and his men have been setting up camp and operating their illegal activities” Most recently, the team had been working on taking down a group of rouge scientists. They had somehow been creating and using a serum that was similar to the super soldier serum. A antidote that made them have increased strength, speed and agility. They then used their new enhancements to rob and kill storeowners, evade the police, and then subsequently sell the drugs and weapons that they had stolen. 
“We’ve finally located their compound, up in rural Virginia, we-“
“What he meant to say was I located their compound in Virginia” Tony cheekily butt in. 
Steve sighed, having to stop his own eye roll, “Fine, yes, Tony located the compound. Anyway, as I was saying…We believe that that’s where they’re making the serum. The sooner we go in, the less time they have to continue using the serum and giving it to more people. Now, I didn’t necessarily think this was a task we all needed to partake in. It really only requires two people to take down Haverford and gather intel on what chemicals they’ve been using”
Steve took a big breath before revealing who he had assigned to the mission, knowing he’d have hell to pay, “Y/N and Bucky will be heading to Virginia tomorrow morning-“
“Are you serious Rogers?!” You immediately confronted Steve’s decision as you heard Bucky next you,
“You’ve got to be kidding me” He mumbled, clearly as annoyed as you were.
Steve put his hands up defensively, “I know the two of you don’t always get along, but I was hoping this assignment would allow you to work together and actually have to interact beyond your bickering” 
You had never been on a mission with just Bucky before. Of course, the two of you had been on missions with the rest of the avengers together, but never just the two of you. 
Steve continued, “Besides, we need someone who’s a super soldier to infiltrate the compound. Bucky has the strength and speed to match that of Haverford’s people. And Y/N, you also have enhancements, it makes sense to send the both of you in together.” He concluded by basically saying his decision was final, and that you and Buck would be leaving on a quinjet first thing tomorrow.
During your years in the red room, you had been injected with various substances and drugs that over time had enhanced your agility, flexibility, reflexes and even your sight. But you didn’t see how that made you a necessary aspect to this assignment. You were sure Steve was just using that as an excuse, he really just wanted you to get along better with Bucky. 
Speaking of which, Buck stood up from his chair as you looked over at him, he glowered at you for a moment before scoffing, “Guess I’ll just have to grin and bear it” and with that he left the room. 
You stayed, waiting for everyone else to file out so that you could speak with Steve privately. Natasha gave you a sympathetic look and squeezed your shoulder, as she was the last one to head out after talking to Steve for a while herself. You were always sort of jealous of their friendship. Of course, you had Nat. Who was your closest confidant in the group. But you also wanted to be close with the guys as well. You supposed Steve was your friend, but sometimes it felt like he looked at you as more of a younger sister. 
Finally, it was just you and Steve alone in the room and you were still sitting in your same seat, Steve standing at the head of the table. He tilted his head towards you and quirked his eyebrows, waiting for you to say something. 
“Why does he hate me?” You asked quietly. You had always wanted to go to Steve for advice on how to handle Bucky, but never wished to cause a rift in their friendship or make Steve feel like he was put in the middle of something.
His eyes went soft and he sighed, “Oh Y/N” He began gently “I know it may come off that way, but Buck doesn’t hate you. He just…” Steve looked to find the right words, “has a hard time handling his emotions and how he feels about people… especially people that bring up past trauma for him” 
Steve’s little hint helped you clue in to what he was trying to imply. You knew that Bucky had a history with the red room, long before you ever did, but you never really knew the details of it or how he was involved. You were saved from Dreykov almost a year ago when Natasha returned to destroy him. You were one of Yelena’s closest friends and she had introduced you to Nat, who then saw how skilled you were and decided to invite you to join the avengers, since you really had no other home to go to. Yelena meanwhile, had wanted to enjoy her freedom a little more and chose to see the world a bit before deciding to join any sort of vigilante team. Though Natasha always held out hope that she would finally join one day when she felt ready. 
“But Nat’s from the red room too!” You defended yourself, “And Bucky treats her perfectly fine! It’s not my fault that my past is what it is. I can’t help the fact that I was raised there, why does he have to hold that against me?” You started to get emotional and Steve could tell, so he began to try and explain his friends behavior.
“Well, he’s gotten to know Natasha for a few years now, so I think they’re on better terms. Plus he kinda owes her one for how she saved both our asses during the whole…sokovia accords thing” Steve said the last part quietly while sort of shamefully looking down. Despite the fact that it was worked out now, that whole incident with him, Tony and Bucky still deeply bothered Steve to even bring up.
He continued after a moment, “He doesn’t hold it against you Y/N, it’s not your fault. He just doesn’t like the memories you bring up for him, the things you remind him of. And he doesn’t know how to properly process and work through them, so instead he just takes out that pent up anger and self hatred on you. It’s not fair to you, but it’s also not your fault.”
“Get him to see a therapist then” you muttered.
Steve scoffed, “Believe me, I’ve tried.” 
He then walked around the length of the table to where you were sitting and gave you a pleading look, “Just give him a chance. Hopefully this mission will be the thing that finally gets him to see you in a different light. I know it’s hard to believe, but he really does have a sweet, soft side under all that brooding, if you dig deep enough” And that was what Steve left you with as he walked out, leaving you alone to mull over what he had said. 
———————
For the rest of that day, you and Bucky both avoided each other. You spent most of the afternoon locked up in your room or in the gym, perfecting a few moves with Nat’s help in preparation for your assignment. You didn’t see Bucky all day, you assumed he also was doing his best to not run into you.
Now, you were seated across from him on the quinjet, an awkward silence taking up the majority of the ride to a rural part of Virginia. He barely even looked at you for the entire 2 hour flight. Mostly staring down at his hands with airpods in, or having his head tilted back and eyes closed. As you neared the end of your trip, jet about to touch down, you noticed Bucky finally didn’t have headphones in, so you decided it would be a good time to set some things straight before you literally went into battle with him.
Cautiously, you spoke up, “Look, I know we don’t necessarily see eye to eye but we really need to-“
He cut you off sharply “Once we touch down I’ll take the northeast side of the compound and you can take the south side. They apparently keep their lab in a big room on the south side, so you head that way and ransack the lab while I take down Haverford, who’s quarters are up in the north end. Got it?” Not even listening to what you had tried to say, Bucky simply started barking out a game plan at you.
“Sure, but I was saying that we-“
Bucky sighed dramatically, “Look Y/N, we just need to do our damn jobs and get this over with. Alright?”
“But Steve said-“
“I don’t care what Steve said.” He snapped, “I’m not here to make nice.”
And with that, you sat in silence again for the last few minutes of the flight. The quinjet landed in an open forrest area, roughly a 10 minute walk away from where Haverford’s compound was supposed to be. Of course, you couldn’t land right next to it without risking them hearing and giving yourselves away. So, you and Bucky began the short trek to the complex, once again in complete silence the whole way there. 
Finally, you arrived upon a large monster of a building. It took up almost the entirety of the empty field that it occupied, with no windows around it whatsoever. To anyone else, it looked like from the outside to be just an eery abandoned building. You and Buck snuck around to the backside where a hatch door was used to get into the lower level of the building. 
“When we’re done,” Bucky finally spoke for the first time in over 15 minutes “How about we meet up back here at this door, so that we can leave asap and not waste time trying to find each other in this fucking maze. Good?”
You swallowed, remembering the “plan” Bucky had laid out earlier on the jet. You really didn’t feel right about splitting up with him. The compound was massive and neither of you had ever navigated it before. Sure, Steve had shown you a basic floor plan of it and talked about where he believed they were making the serum, but that was it. You didn’t know your way around this territory, and you didn’t know what Haverford’s men were like.  And on this mission, it was just you and Buck. You didn’t have the other avengers around to look out for you, or be your eyes and ears over the comms. 
“Bucky, I don’t know if we should separate. This place is big.” You finally admitted.
“It’s nothing you can’t handle” He grumbled out, which should have sounded like a compliment but came out as more of something to shut you up and get on with it.
“But what if one of us gets injured or can’t find our way back to the door?” You asked, embarrassed to be admitting your nerves to him. Bucky could see for a moment that you were genuinely anxious about this.
“We have the comms in our ears,” He began in a slightly softer tone than he had ever spoken to you before, “If you need help, just talk to me. I’ll be in your ear the whole time” 
You nodded, still a little worried but trying not to show it.
“Splitting up is the fastest way to do this. And the faster we get this done, the less time we have to spend together.” Ah, there was the Bucky you knew. Back to making jabs at you. That was the last you spoke before he broke the door open and you were in.
—————————
As discreetly as possible, you made your way through the compound, quietly trying to get to the south wing without being heard or seen. Steve said that they most likely were keeping their lab in the largest room in the building, which supposedly should be through the last door on the south side. As long as you could find it, get the records and evidence that you needed, and get back to the exit in time to meet Bucky, you’d be fine. 
You could hear Bucky through the comms, sounds of grunting and punching obviously coming from him fighting Ian Haverford’s men that he had come into contact with. 
“Looking for something princess?” You immediately stopped in your tracks at the sound of a deep sinister voice snarling at you. Whipping around, you saw one of Ian’s goonies standing just a few feet from you. 
Instantly he charged at you, but it was nothing you hadn’t ever dealt with. Before he could grab you, you took hold of his arm and twisted it behind his back, affectively turning his entire body away from you. Then, using the Widow’s Bite armor that were around your wrists, you tased him in the neck, causing him to fall completely unconscious.
It was then that you realized you had made it to the end of the hallway, and thus the last door which was supposed to be their lab. Prepared for men to potentially be in there, you unholstered one of your firearms, and promptly kicked down the door.
To your shock, the room had no occupants. You quickly reached over to find a light switch, and what you saw next was infuriating. It indeed was Ian Haverford’s lab. Full of tables and stations that held different mixed drugs and chemicals that he was using to create his own super soldier serum, one that he then used on himself and his accomplices. You also saw a station that was entirely made up of a large desktop connected to multiple computers. 
You started to make your way towards the computers so that you could plug in your hard-drive and collect the data that would supply the team with how Haverford had been making the serums. But before you could get there, a white, powdery substance started to sprits down from what looked like emergency sprinklers that were on the ceiling. The substance reeked like chemicals, similar to that of bleach but not as strong. You began to cough a little, trying to wipe the shit out of your face and eyes. You had no idea what the fuck it was or what it might possibly do to you. 
“Bucky” you half coughed half called his name into the comms, “Bucky something happened”
“What?” He grunted out, clearly still in the middle of fighting someone.
“I just got sprayed with some kind of white powder stuff. I don’t know what it was. It must have been part of some kind of booby-trap that they had on the lab, since I kicked their door in, it went off.”
“Are you okay?” Bucky immediately asked, seeming genuinely worried. 
“Yeah I mean, nothings happened yet, I’m still fine. But-“
“I’m a little busy Y/N, if you’re fine for now, just get the data from the lab and head out fast. I don’t have time to keep talking” he quickly rattled off to you, and you heard a loud scream coming from a guy that Bucky obviously just injured. 
You swallowed, still very nervous about whatever the hell just happened to you, but you didn’t want to distract Bucky any further and potentially get him hurt, “Alright. On it.” 
Plugging the hard-drive into the main desktop, you waited patiently as thousands of files started to download from Haverford’s database. As you stood there and waited, an annoying, high pitched ringing began to go off in your ears. At the same time, your vision slowly started to blur slightly, as if you were wearing the wrong prescription glasses. A lump formed in your throat and your heart practically dropped into your stomach, you hated to admit it, but this was deeply scaring you. You’d never been poisoned before. 
You rubbed your eyes, hoping maybe it would help, but nothing happened, the blurriness just got worse. On top of that, your head started to pound, most likely due to the loud obnoxious ringing. It was the powder, you knew it had to be. What else would just suddenly start causing all this? 
“Y/N? You still good?” You heard Bucky ask through the comms, clearly still preoccupied with something else but wanting to check on you. 
You debated telling him about your symptoms. You were teammates, he should know. But on the other hand, It was just a few mostly mild symptoms, and the files were almost finished downloading anyway. You’d grab the hard-drive, run out of the compound and meet him in just a few minutes. You could make it until then. Plus, you didn’t wish to further annoy or distract him from fighting. 
“Yeah. Still good!” You tried to sound as enthusiastic and convincing as possible. It must have worked, because he didn’t question you further. 
Standing over the counter, still waiting for the files to be done, you leaned over the table a bit and made the idiotic decision to close your eyes for just a second, trying to relieve the headache. 
A moment later, you felt a sharp, intense fiery pain in your abdomen as someone reached from behind you choking your neck and thrusting a knife into your stomach. You were paralyzed for just a second with fear, not even able to cry out. The ringing in your ears was so bad, you must not have heard anyone come in. 
Trying to ignore the pain, you instinctively kicked your right leg back hard, hitting the man in the groin and causing him to fall to the ground. However, on his way down, he didn’t miss the chance to slash you in the calve with the knife he had been holding. The stab was so quick you could only gasp in pain. A gasp Bucky must not have heard as he was fighting his own battles. 
Turning around, you fumbled for your firearm for a moment before finally getting it out and being able to pull the trigger, sending a bullet right through his chest. Stumbling backwards a bit, you started to feel lightheaded and you were reminded of the red hot pain in your stomach. You placed a hand over the side the feeling was coming from, and immediately felt a sticky hot liquid coat your fingers. 
You didn’t have time however to investigate the stab wound, because as you glanced up, you could see through your blurry vision that 3 more men were walking in through the kicked down door. 
Lazily raising your gun again, gripping the table to keep from toppling over, you aimed as best you could, with ringing ears, blurred vision and now two stab wounds. Thankfully, your training in the red room had taught you how to aim with even a blindfold on, and with a few quick shots, the men were taken down, now lying limply on the ground in front of you. 
Bucky heard the gunshots through the comm, but since you never called his name or made a noise that would indicate you needed help, he assumed you had it under control. 
You let the gun fall from your hand, now that you were alone and for now, out of danger, you were finally able to feel the extent of your injuries as the adrenaline wore off. Ever so slowly, you peered down at your stomach and saw that the hand you’d been holding there was almost entirely now coated in blood. Without meaning to, you fell to your knees, which then painfully reminded you of the other deep wound in your calve. However, you were so tired, and the loss of blood was making it hard to do anything other than focus on breathing.  
You knew you needed to alert Bucky. You couldn’t just lie here and wait, you didn’t have that kind of time. 
“Bu-Buck” you whimpered, trying to be loud enough that the comm would pick it up. But even just trying to talk was proving to be exhausting. You knew you were losing what was probably a lot of blood. Wet hot tears started to roll down your face, you were dangerously close to just giving in to the blood loss induced exhaustion and closing your eyes.
——————
Bucky, meanwhile, had finished taking down the men on the other half of the facility and was waiting for you outside at the spot you’d both agreed you would meet. He spoke over the comms, “I took down Haverford and his men. I’m out here now. Hurry up.” Short and to the point. How he always was with you. 
Immediately, more tears welled in your eyes at hearing his voice. You were desperate, in pain, and exhausted. Despite having a deep distaste for Bucky, you knew you needed him. You needed him to come and find you. You didn’t have enough strength to speak, but luckily the sound of his voice finally brought your own voice back and you mustered up a deep, pathetic and painful whine from the back of your throat…and it was enough to be caught over your ear piece. 
He stood there for a few minutes, getting antsy. Especially since he didn’t hear fighting noises over comms, he assumed you were just taking your sweet time making it back to him.
After a bit of waiting he sighed, grumbling “C’mon Y/N, what the fuck could you possibly-“
His complaining ceased as soon as he heard your one singular cry through the comm. Bucky’s eyes went wide, heart dropping into his stomach. He’d never heard a sound like that come out of you before. 
“Y/N?” He called your name in an almost scared tone, “Are you okay?”
No response.
Bucky swore under his breath, “I’m coming, just hang on” he made that promise to you like it was an oath, and raced back inside the building. 
Sprinting to the side of the compound that you were tasked with handling, Bucky searched frantically through the hallways, popping his head into every room trying to find you….until he did.
You laid there, blood seeping across your shirt and a pool of it surrounding your one injured leg. The men that you had disarmed and killed were sprawled out around you. 
After his initial shock wore off, Bucky ran to you, kicking one of the dead arms dealers out of the way to get to you. He dropped to his knees, eyes scanning your wounds.
“Oh, Y/N” He whispered with guilt and sorrow dripping from his tone. A million emotions flashed across his face. Including anger at the men who had attacked you, but mostly at himself for allowing this to happen. 
You looked up at him, meeting his eyes, and the tears finally flowed freely now. Aside from the pain, you were relieved. Despite you’re not getting along, in this moment you wanted nothing more than for Bucky to hold you, and tell you everything was going to be just fine.
“Okay” he whispered in a stunned tone, trying to calm both you and himself down. His hands hovered over your body as he took in your wounds and decided what he needed to do. 
 “Okay, alright.” That time, it came out more sure, “It’s alright, doll. Just keep breathing for me.”  He tried to comfort you as he whipped out his phone and let Tony and the team know they needed medical there immediately.
Bucky then swallowed, giving you a remorseful look for what he was about to do. 
“Okay sweetheart,” he began tenderly, as he took off the black jacket he had on, and then promptly ripped the sleeve of it off with his metal arm. 
“I’m gonna have to tie this around your leg to stop the bleeding. It might hurt a bit, but I gotta do it” He gently explained what he needed to do, waiting to see a sign in your eyes that at least you understood. You gave him a very weak nod, and that was all he needed to then wrap the sleeve tightly around your upper calf. 
He was right, it did hurt. But it wasn’t anything you hadn’t expected or weren’t prepared for. However, you believe Bucky only told you about having to wrap your leg, in order to half distract you from what he did next. 
A blinding, nauseating pain quickly overcame you as he took the rest of the jacket he had, and with his metal arm and half his body weight, pressed it over your abdominal wound.
You immediately cried out and instinctively reached for Bucky’s arm, trying to push him away. 
“Shhh, I know, I know baby” Bucky, who almost sounded pain-stricken himself with guilt, began to hush you, “I know it hurts, but I have to, I have to” He grabbed your hand that had tried to push him away, and let you squeeze the life out of his own as he continued applying pressure. His thumb softly grazed your knuckles, trying to soothe you. 
While continuing to comfort you, Bucky began to look around as if he expected someone else to also come to your aid. It was then that he realized he’d need to get you out of the building in order to get you onto the quinjet. There was no way the medical team would be able to find their way around in here to get to you in time. And he could see that you’d already lost a lot of blood, and even with the tourniquet and pressure he applied, you were still losing some. 
He took a breath, staring into your eyes with a serious yet remorseful look on his face, “Ok doll, I’m gonna have to pick you up and carry you out, but we can’t let up pressure on your wound” he explained, “So, I’m gonna need your help.”
Bucky then took the hand of yours that he was holding and gently guided it over to your abdomen. Lifting the jacket, he placed your hand over your own wound, you whimpered a little at the contact. Bucky swallowed, “I know doll, but I need you to put pressure on it like I was, okay? Can you do that for me?” He looked at you pleadingly, praying that you understood what he was saying.
Having to bite your own lip to keep from crying out again, you started to press down on your stomach with the little strength you still had. Bucky could tell you were trying by your obvious change in facial expression, “That’s it. Just like that, that’s my girl” he praised, quickly swiping one of your tears away. It wasn’t a lot of pressure, but it would do. 
Ever so gently, trying to avoid hurting your injured leg, Bucky gracefully slipped his arms underneath you and scooped you up, holding you close to his chest. You moaned a little at the shift in movement, “Shhh, I got you doll. I got you” he whispered into your hair as you shoved your face in the crook of his neck. 
He quickly made his way back out of the compound with you in his arms, thanking god when he saw the medevac quinjet was already out there waiting for you guys. Bucky tenderly laid you down on the stretcher, taking hold of your hand again as soon as he was able. 
“She was poisoned with something and then stabbed in her lower left calve and left quadrant of her abdomen” He immediately started rambling off what had happened to the medical team and Dr. Cho. 
“Poisoned with what?” Someone asked, he didn’t see who it was cause he wasn’t taking his eyes off of you. 
“I- I don’t know.” Bucky admitted, “I think she said it was white and powdery, I can’t remember.” Internally, he was kicking himself so hard for not having immediately ran to you when you told him about the poison. He shouldn’t have just written you off and told you to deal with it. He shouldn’t have done a lot of things. 
Bucky sat on the little bench in the quinjet right next you, still holding your hand, while the team got to work on your injuries. Technically, he should have been sitting at the front of the jet, out of their way, but no one was going to tell an upset Bucky Barnes what to do. 
As they began working your leg, removing the tourniquet and getting a shot of lidocaine ready to numb the area, you saw them preparing the syringe out of the corner of your eye. You begin to hyperventilate, letting out a small whimper of fear. You hated all things medical, which stemmed from a deep rooted fear that dated back to your red room days. After years of being practically experimented on and shot up with god knows what, you didn’t particularly love the sight of needles. Even if you knew you were in a safe environment. 
Bucky, who was still diligently sitting right beside you, immediately recognized your anxious reaction. He too knew that fear all too well. While he didn’t like to admit it, his time as the winter solider and being left at the hands of hydra often caused him to have visceral reactions to medical paraphernalia. 
“Hey, hey” he softly called to you as he gently held your chin and brought your face to meet his, “It’s alright doll, you don’t have to look down there. Just look at me. Right at me.” He held your eyes, squeezing your hand a little tighter to let you know he was there. “That’s it. Just keep looking at me, Y/N. I’m right here” And that’s how you eventually went unconscious, staring into Bucky’s eyes as he quietly shushed you and ran his hand through your hair.
——————
The harsh lights of the medical wing practically blinded you as you tried to let your eyes slowly adjust to your surroundings. 
“Hey hon” you heard a soft voice coming from your right side, whom you instantly recognized as Natasha. 
“Well there she is” another voice, coming from your left who you thought was Steve, spoke up, sounding relieved at the fact you were awake. Your suspicions were proven correct when Steve leaned over slightly into your line of view. 
“Welcome back, Y/N” he smiled, clearly exhausted but delighted by your opened eyes. 
Your voice came out raspy and weak as you spoke for the first time, “H-how long have I been out?”
Natasha grabbed a cup from off your bedside table and offered you some water as Steve answered you,
“About three days. They had to get the bleeding under control and repair a portion of your stomach that was perforated. They also gave you some antibiotics to combat whatever the hell it was you were poisoned with,” he explained, “they seem to be working though. Doc says as soon as you’re strong enough, you can finish recuperating in your own room” He ended his spiel with a smile, but there was still one question he hadn’t answered that you were desperate for.
“W-Where’s Bucky?” You wondered why he wasn’t here, as you didn’t see him next to Steve or Nat. 
“He’s right here, Y/N” Steve motioned to the back of the room where you couldn’t see, but Bucky was standing in the corner, eyes red and sunken in like he’d been crying. He immediately picked his head up when he heard you mention him. 
“He hasn’t left this room in three days” Steve whispered to you in a hushed tone, hoping Bucky couldn’t hear him.
Nat cleared her throat, “We’re just gonna go get some coffee” she looked at Steve and jerked her head towards the door, beckoning him to follow her. They both left, leaving you and Bucky to yourselves. 
Slowly, Buck made his way over to your bed, taking the seat that Steve was just in. 
He was almost fearful of what to say, surprised that you had even asked for him in the first place. He blamed himself entirely for what happened, and was positive that when you woke up, you’d want nothing to do with him. And he wouldn’t blame you.
“Hey doll” he croaked out, voice sounding strained, “How’re you feeling?”
You swallowed, “My stomach hurts, and I have a headache” you admitted, still in a bit of pain from your wound healing. 
Bucky nodded, “Do you want me to get the doctor? They might be able to give you more pain meds.” He asked, wanting to make sure you were as comfortable as possible. You didn’t know, but for the past three days Bucky had remained diligently at your bedside, alerting medical staff of any slight change in vital signs or if he thought you were cold and needed more blankets. He’d only left a few brief times when Steve had to force him to go eat or use the bathroom. 
You shook your head, “no, no I’m okay. Promise” You offered him a slight smile. 
Bucky stared down at his hands for a moment before he spoke up again, “Y/N, I am so so so sorry. This never would’ve happened if I had just listened to you and not had us split up.” He spoke with such guilt and shame you almost felt bad for him, “I was so focused on my own agenda and being a dick to you, that I completely ignored when you needed help. I can’t even-“
“Buck,” you interrupted him, reaching over and grabbing his hand with the little strength you had, “this isn’t your fault. It’s the fault of the men who stabbed me. That’s it. No one else’s” As much as you knew he fucked up with the way he treated you, you certainly didn’t think he should have to take responsibility for you getting hurt. 
“But if I had come as soon as you said you were poisoned, if I had just listened to you instead of choosing to be an asshole, you probably wouldn’t be in this hospital bed” he insisted, eyes getting watery. 
“Well, you were an asshole, I’ll give you that.” You smirked at him, trying to get him to relax, “but you also saved my life.” Bucky looked up at you, “You tied the tourniquet which kept me from losing more blood, and then made sure I didn’t have a panic attack on the quinjet. You might have fucked up a little Bucky, but you certainly made up for it” you gave his hand a little squeeze. 
For the first time since you went under surgery, Bucky smiled, “All the same, I’m never separating from you during missions ever again.” 
You playfully rolled your eyes, “that sounds a little suffocating, don’t you think?”
He shook his head, “Nope. Not to me. Nothings ever happening to you while you’re under my watch again”
“Well if that’s the case,” you scooted over a little in the bed, “will you keep me warm before I freeze to death in here?” You were genuinely very cold and were hoping for someone to bring you another blanket, but you supposed having Bucky there would do.
He chuckled softly, “you got it.” Lowering the hospital bed rail, Bucky climbed in and laid down next you, pulling you up close to him with his arm around your shoulders. 
He placed a brief kiss along your hairline, “get some rest, doll. I’ll be right here.” 
————-
Taglist: @patzammit @dpaccione @fdl305 @gh0stgurl
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d0youc0py · 4 months
Note
Hi! Really love all your works! You write boys so good!
I saw, that your requests are open, so I want to make request for the first time) (Feel free to ignore it, if you don't like the idea or find it triggering. TW: panic attack, abuse)
Can you write a one short for the 141 boys plus Konig, where during fight with their s/o (reader), they accidentally send reader into a panic attack? Maybe the cause of this reaction is a story of abuse in the reader's past or something like that. How would boys react? What would they do?
Thank you in advance!
P.S. Sorry for grammar or semantic errors, english isn't my mother tongue.
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He was on you in an instant. It always seemed like nothing got past him- and your instant change in demeanor was no exception.
Your hands pressed against his stomach, trying to create some form of distance between the two of you. With gritted teeth- he obliged.
“I shouldn’t have been so firm with you, Honey. I’m sorry.” His voice was soft, like the John you knew. It didn’t comfort you like it usually did.
“It’s alright.” You gasped, your body feeling like it was being weighted down by chains.
“Don’t pacify me. It’s not alright.” John pressed. His hand raised but quickly went back to his side when he saw your hesitation to be touched. Your eyes fled up to his, waiting for him to get angry again at your rejection, yet all you saw were his heavy blue eyes. Heavy with hurt and anger, yet you instinctually knew none of it was at you. “You look like you’re about to pass out. Let me help you, please. Let me fix this sweetheart.”
You didn’t have the energy or wits to refuse.
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You couldn’t tell if he was asleep or not. His breaths were always light and careful even if he was fast asleep. You however were a mess. Shaky, cold yet sweaty, your heart pounding a mile a minute. You pulled the covers back and slowly slipped out of bed. You glanced behind you, half praying he was awake and would usher you back to bed. You could almost hear the displeased rumble coming from his chest as he patted you back to sleep. But not so much as a stir came from him. You crept into the bathroom, sitting on the toilet lid, holding a towel over your mouth to muffle your sobs. A familiar wave of weakness wash over you. Your mind instantly fled to flight mode.
The events of tonight made you wonder if there was anyway to revive your relationship. He completely shut down- only opening his mouth to give a few verbal jabs here and there. This wasn’t the first time you had sobbed to yourself in the bathroom, but you had never felt heartbreak quite like this before.
“You alright in there?” You jumped at the gruff voice on the other side of the door.
You took a quick breath offering a pitiful “yeah”. Suddenly the door opened and you quickly leapt up, your first instinct to shut the door. His heart sank when he caught sight of you.
“Sweetheart.” Simon said quickly. He used his body to keep you from shutting the door. You used the towel to wipe your face- a little too harshly for his liking. His hand came up, pulling your hands away from your face. “Fucking hell.” He grumbled, mostly to himself.
“I’m sorry.” You started. He quickly hushed you, a displeased rumble leaving his chest just like you had imagined.
“Not your fault.” He shushed. “I was an ass, Lovie. I knew how you would react I still chose to go about things the way I did. I’m sorry.” He tilted your chin up, running his thumb across it.
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Your breathing was shallow- not that he could tell over his shouting. He was a hothead and it was reminding you all too much of your past. Your hands pulled at the collar of your shirt hoping it would ease the feeling of your world falling in on you. The living room was suddenly too small. The TV suddenly too loud. The lights suddenly too bright. Your head felt too light. Your skin too itchy and your body too twitchy. Johnny’s burning blue eyes flickered from place to place making you wonder if you even still needed to be there. He seemed fine carrying on this argument with himself. Yet you were frozen. His growling voice suddenly stopped.
Your eyes left the floor to glance at him. He watched you with careful blue eyes, that softened by the minute. He was assessing you and he quickly realized it wasn’t good.
“Bon?” His voice was warm- familiar.
“Please stop yelling Mac.” You whispered. He nodded his head in agreement clearing the distance between the two of you.
“Is it too soon for me to say I’m sorry.” He questioned. He leaned against the wall, slowly guiding your shaky form towards him. “Christ.” He murmured, holding his lips firm against your head. “I know better and I should’ve done better, Bon.”
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He was a fairly patient man- especially when it came to you, but he was losing his mind. His trained ears only being able to focus on your sniffles and you trying to get your breathing back to normal. His molten eyes stared straight ahead, his body twitching to go to you. He had lost his temper- not so much at you but at a situation. By the time he realized just how badly he had upset you- it was too late. You practically begged him to give you space and he obliged- kind of.
The couch creaked as he stood, quietly making his way towards the bedroom. He knocked softly against the doorframe, like one move would startle you like a scared deer. He was right, you jumped.
“Ky, I’m alright. I promise.” You assured, your face half buried in a pillow. He wanted you to seek comfort from him. He sat down and slowly moved the tear stained pillow away from your face.
“Let me take care of this, please.” He whispered, pressing a gentle kiss below your ear.
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He was furious that he had let himself go like that. Part of his job was keeping his emotions in check and he couldn’t do that for the one person it really mattered. He was so upset he hadn’t even noticed how distraught you were until nearly ran out of the room. He had talked you down, apologies flowing from his lips till he saw some sign that you were believing him.
He had coaxed you into his arms- the place you would stay for as long as you’d wished to. At least that’s what he told himself. But the way his arms wrapped so tightly around you it appeared to be much more of his decision than yours.
“I hope you can forgive me, Schatz.” He said it aloud but it felt like he was talking more to himself.
“You didn’t know Konig.” You muttered. He winced at the formality of his name. No “Konnie” or “Kon” or some random German word you had decided to be his nickname for the day.
“Don’t make excuses for me.” He ran a hand up and down your back. “No one deserves that treatment less than you. I’m sorry I scared you, it won’t happen again.”
Thank you for your kind words! Hope you liked it! Writing this made me realize how little I write Konig. 🩷
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heavenlyhischier · 5 months
Text
𝐀𝐬 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐑𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐬 | 𝐋𝐮𝐤𝐞 𝐇𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐬
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word count: 2.5k
summary: it’s your turn to choose, and you just hope that you made the right choice.
warnings: angst, reader is kinda ‘pick me choose me’ but it’s okay, kissing, unedited as usual
part one
Luke broke up with his girlfriend the day after you left. Gave her some half-assed excuse of his life being too busy with hockey, but she knew the truth, and she didn’t fault him for it. He wanted to reach out to you, to call you, to text you, but he was smart enough to know it wasn’t a good idea. After the things he said to you and the way he undoubtedly made you feel, he knew you needed space away from him. How much space was the question that he didn’t know the answer to.
The first text you’d gotten from Luke was a simple ‘I’m sorry’ a week after you’d left that day. You were in class when it came through, and all you could do was stare at the message. You didn’t know what to do, and you couldn’t focus on the rest of the lecture, so you retreated to your apartment for the day and left the text unanswered. You opted to not tell Sage about the text, especially because she thought you had blocked him already.
The next text you got from him was the following day, and it was significantly longer than his previous one. He explained how sorry he was, how he had broken up with his girlfriend, how he wishes he could take it all back and have you in his life again, how he missed you. You didn’t respond to that one either, though you really wanted to, but he had hurt you. Luke had caused you the most heart stopping pain you’d ever felt in your life, and you needed to get rid of those feelings before you accepted him back as a part of your life.
Luke texted you every day now, telling you how sorry he was and he wasn’t going to give up on you so easily this time unless you explicitly told him not to. You never texted him and told him no, so he took that as an open invitation. The more time went on, the more descriptive his texts got and they started to chip away at the wall you had built between the two of you. There was one text you’d gotten from him that said he loved you, and if you didn’t know better, based on the context of the rest of the message, you would’ve thought he meant he was in love with you.
The one time you had texted Luke back, it was for selfish reasons and with the hope that it would make him a teeny bit mad. It was childish and immature, you knew that, but you couldn’t help it. It was the first time he’d worked up the courage to ask to see you, and you had texted him back saying that you couldn’t. Because you had a date that night. Luke’s heart fell to his stomach as he read the message over and over again.
“Jack,” Luke called out as he barged into his brother's room, “She’s going on a date. I told her that I love her, and she’s going on a date. What the fuck do I do?”
Jack sat on his bed, phone in hand as he glared at his brother. Ever since he got home that day and asked what had happened, Jack’s been pissed at his brother. He was an idiot who ruined the best thing that had ever happened to him, and Jack had no sympathy for that.
“Nothing,” He shrugged, gaze darting back to his phone as he scrolled through social media, “You do nothing, Luke. You fucked up. Bad. Now you have to deal with the consequences.”
“Yeah, thanks,” Luke scoffed, “I was hoping for some advice.”
“What do you want me to say, dude,” Jack angrily spoke, throwing his phone next to him, “That it’ll be okay? That you’ll get her back? Well, honestly I don’t think you should get her back. You don’t deserve her, Luke. She did everything for you. She was there for you anytime you needed her. She fucking chose you no matter what and you went and fucked that up for some girl you don’t even really know! I love you and I always will, but you don’t fucking deserve her forgiveness after the shit you did.”
While Luke was kicked out his brothers room, you were busy getting ready for your date that Sage was forcing you to go on. She claimed that he was a nice guy, a breath of fresh air after everything that had happened with Luke. You agreed to go, but told her that you would be driving yourself in case you weren’t feeling it and wanted to leave early. She, reluctantly, agreed to the terms and sent you on your way once you were ready.
About halfway through your drive to the restaurant, you realized that you were going the complete wrong direction. You were driving towards Luke’s apartment without even meaning to, and you weren’t sure if you wanted to turn around. The twisted part of your brain was telling you this was a sign, that you should give him a chance and talk to him, that maybe the two of you could give what had been broken between you. The logical part of your brain was telling you to turn around, go to the restaurant and forget that Luke Hughes ever existed. You weren’t sure what to do, but then you found yourself standing outside of his apartment door.
You stared at the door, your heart and mind waging the ultimate war within you. The urge to turn around and walk away dwindled by the second. You wanted to see him so you could yell at him, to tell him how badly he hurt you. You wanted to see if he missed you as much as you missed him, so you knocked on the door. If Jack was the one who answered, you were going to take that as a sign that Luke was gone for good, but it seemed as if fate was on your side.
Luke swung the door open, the greeting he had dying in his tongue when he saw you standing in front of him. You glared at him as you racked your brain for the angry speech you had planned out, but you were coming up empty now. Only one phrase on your mind as you were harshly brought back to the memories of that day in Luke’s room. The day he chose someone else over you.
“I hate you,” You tried to keep your voice steady, but it wavered as your bottom lip wobbled.
Luke didn’t know what to say as you stood in front of him in the outfit he assumed was for your date. Your eyes were lined with uncried tears, glassy and broken as they bore into his own. He felt his heart shatter inside of his chest when he noticed that the necklace he had gotten you for your sixteenth birthday and had worn ever since, was missing from your neck.
“I know,” Luke finally breathed out as he took every inch of you in like it was going to be the last time he was going to see you. To him, he thought it was going to be.
“I hate you,” You repeated, voice barely above a whisper as tears spilled over onto your cheeks. You felt pathetic for breaking so easily, but the plan you had to scream and yell at him went out the window the second you saw him in front of you.
“I know,” He swallowed thickly, hand twitching towards you, aching to pull you close, “I’m so sorry.”
“Why am I not worth choosing,” You sobbed as your gaze fell to the ground and you hugged your arms to your body.
In an instant, Luke was pulling you into his apartment, and into his arms. He held you as you cried into his chest, your tears soaking through his shirt, but he didn’t care. He rubbed circles in your back, not sure what the fuck he was supposed to say to you right now. He’d thought about this moment ever since you left two months ago, but now that you were right in front of him, he was clueless.
While Luke’s arms were holding you close, yours remained wrapped around yourself as sobs tore through your body. You wanted to reach out and never let him go, but you were scared and hurt. After what he’d done, you were afraid to let any part of him back in. You couldn’t go through that pain all over again; you’re not sure you would make it out this time.
Luke was glad that Jack was gone for the afternoon, off doing who knows what with who knows who. He knows that if he saw you crying in Luke’s arms, Jack would give him another earful of words he’s heard for the last two months. He didn’t want to hear how he didn’t deserve you or your forgiveness because he knew that he didn’t, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t been clinging onto hope. Hope was the only thing getting him through the day.
“I hate you so much,” You whispered, voice thick with emotion as you finally wound your arms around his waist.
Luke pulls you closer into his chest, tears of his own falling down on his cheeks as he listens to how broken you sound. He wants to say that he hates himself too, that he hates what he did to you, but he doesn’t want to make it about himself. At the end of the day, the way he felt was his own doing. He ruined your friendship and shut you out. He hurt himself.
“I’m so sorry,” Luke mumbled your name as if it was the most delicate thing in the entire world, “I’m sorry I hurt you. If I could— If I could take it all back I would. I would change everything if I could. But, I just— I don’t know what to do.”
“Tell me I’m worth choosing,” You begged, grasping at his shirt, “Or at least tell me why I'm not.”
Luke pulls away from you, but keeps his hands on your biceps as he looks at you. His cheeks are red and eyes heavy, but his face is serious. He’s sporting the same look he had when he forced you to listen to him tell you how much your ex boyfriend didn’t deserve you and how amazing you are.
“Listen to me, okay,” He started, his voice shaky and hesitant, “You are worth choosing, Y/N. In fact, you were always my only choice. You always have been, but that’s why I did what I did. I’m so fucking sorry I let you walk away that day. It was the worst mistake of my life, but I thought I was doing the right thing.”
“I don’t understand,” You shook your head, “Why would cutting me off be the right thing? Do you not want me in your life anymore?”
Panic bubbled in your chest as you let your mind run rampant with anxious thoughts. Regret in the form of bile rose in your throat, the desire to turn around and run away creeping back up. Your hands began to shake, an action Luke was quick to pick up on as he let go of your arms to capture them in his own.
“That’s not what I’m saying, I promise,” He softly reassured as he rubbed circles on the back of your hand with his thumb, “I thought it was the right thing because I thought it would help me move on. I’ve loved you since we were fifteen and I knew you didn’t feel the same way, so I thought choosing someone else would help me do that. Obviously, I was wrong.”
Your jaw went slack and your glassy eyes widened, your heart beating against your chest as you listened to him. It felt too good to be true; Luke admitting that he loved you the same way you loved him. It almost felt like you were dreaming, like you’d finally clawed your way out of the nightmarish reality that has been your life.
Luke felt like he was about to pass out the longer he sat with your silence surrounding him. He knew that confessing his feelings was a risky move given everything that had happened, but he needed you to know. He was hoping and praying that you felt the same, or that you’d at least welcome him back into your life as your friend again.
“You were wrong,” You swallowed the lump in your throat, “I did feel the same way about you.” Luke felt his heart fall to his feet. “I do still, but, Luke, you hurt me. I can’t just look past that. I’m not saying I can’t ever get over it, but it’ll take time.”
Without a second thought, Luke’s pulling you into his chest and wrapping his arms around you. Your arms instinctively wrap around his neck as you bury your face into his chest, taking in the way he felt against you. While you were still upset with him, there was no better feeling than in his embrace. It was always where you felt safest, and you hoped that that feeling would come back with time. Though, a small part of you was telling you it never left.
“I will do whatever it takes to earn your trust back,” Luke mumbled into the crook of your neck, “I love you, and I will spend my life proving that to you.”
“Luke,” You pulled away, eyes wide and pleading, “I don’t care if this is too soon, but can you please kiss m—”
He didn’t let you finish your sentence before crashing his lips onto your own. He pulled you into him by your waist as your hands moved up to tangle in his hair. Luke moved his mouth against yours, tasting the salt from both of your tears as he slipped his tongue into yours. It was a tangled mess of emotions as the two of you pushed against each other, but it was perfect.
After five years of what the two of you thought was unrequited love, you expected nothing short of desperation and yearning. You poured your entire being into the kiss, and by the way Luke was holding you like you would disappear, you knew he was too. The last time you were in the Hughes’ apartment, you felt like your entire world was collapsing below your feet. Now, you felt the world around you rise again and it was even more beautiful than before.
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jeansplaytoy · 2 months
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Complaining - Ony. 5
<<part four part six>>
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arguing, sexual themes(?), language, drinking, smoking, etc.
sorry for the wait yalllll . proof reading later , short bcus a lot happens in the next chapter 🤲🏾
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that same night, ony led you into a party. probably the last one you planned on going to for the week if somebody pissed you off tonight.
you smacked your lips. “ian even feel like coming to this dumbass party, ony. you always gotta make me do some shit.”
“stop complaining befo’ i make you stop.” he muttered in your ear. you rolled your eyes and looked away with a small smile.
as he went to the main living room, he dapped a few people up, spoke to a few people, before finally sitting down, sitting you down beside him.
“so yo ass finally got his mind straight about what he shoulda chose?” connie tilted his head, taking a drag of his blunt. ony scoffed. “man, you acting like i was actually finna be wit that girl for that long. we already done.” he smiled to himself.
“yeah, he knew better.” you shrugged, making ony roll his eyes at you. “ony go get me a drink.” you mumbled. ony smacked his lips playfully and stood up. “ight, hol up.” he mumbled, walking towards the kitchen
“so y’all back together?” sasha tilted her head with a grin.
“no.” was the first thing you said. and quick. “we just sorted things out now he think he got me.” you shrugged.
“y’all toxic as helllll. so y’all finally talked shit out and ain’t argue over every little thing?” mikasa raised an eyebrow. “surprising.”
you sighed loudly. “oh my-, y’all never enjoy things how they is y’all always gotta push it.” you rolled your eyes.
“it ain’t our fault we expected less outta you-“
before connie could finish egging the shit on, someone else appeared.
“y’all know where ony at?” onys ex girlfriend appeared out of nowhere. you raised an eyebrow and glanced back at the kitchen. “why?”
“because he was just texting me telling me he wasn’t bouda come to this party and ion believe it.”
all eyes went directly to you. big and bold.
“the fuck?” you squinted.
-
the quietness in the car on the way home was unbearable.
not to you, but to ony. you were being weird ever since you first showed up to the party, now you didn’t wanna say anything to him, and for what?
“if you ain’t wanna go to the damn party then you shoulda said that. ion know why you acting weird all of a sudden because i went to get a drink.” he said, unlocking the door to his house, since you sadly agreed to stay the night. what a coincidence.
“you a weird ass nigga, you know that? to sit here and lie in my damn face about a bitch you said you ain’t want but was texting her the whole ride to the party, ony you a damn joke.” you said, kicking your heels off and stomping upstairs.
“y/n… what is you talkin bout bruh?” ony frowned at you went in his room where you were. you took your dress off as ony leaned on the doorway. “everyday it’s something new witcho stupid ass.” you pointed at him.
he smacked his lips and groaned. “sum new wit’ me? you sittin here complaining and ion even know what the fuck i did.”
“and you still wanna sit here and lie in my face?” you squinted and tilted your head. rummaging through the personalized drawer he had for you and your clothes to find something to sleep in, you frowned, huffing.
“how would i lie in yo face and i ain’t even said nothin?”
before you should even get your shirt all the way on, you froze. “you told me you was done wit’ that bitch. you know what she told me? she told me? she told me you told her to go to that fuckin party. how the fuck you invited two different bitches to one party?”
ony stared at you for a second before opening him his mouth to say something, but you cut him off.
“ion wanna hear it. when i see that bitch, we talkin to her. together.”
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anisespice · 17 days
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12:34am — manjiro sano
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Honestly, he should’ve seen it coming.
As soon as they were situated in a secluded area of the quaint, little ramen bar they occasionally visited, there was a nagging feeling in the back of his mind that wouldn’t relent until it revealed itself. The next thing MIKEY knew, right after the server placed steaming food on the table and left the room, a gaggle of low-rate thugs came barreling in, guns drawn and aimed practically in his face with misplaced confidence. He didn’t even flinch, just set his chopsticks back down with a slow exhale through his nose.
“Can I at least eat a little before you try to kill me?” Mikey muttered, disinterested gaze briefly scanning over the opposition, sizing them up. Wack.
“Your last meal’s finna be this bullet, asshole. This what happens when you fuck with the Tokyo Vipers. We don’t care how tough you are, you’re gonna pay for what you did to Boss Nakashima!”
“Who?” Clearly, not the response they were looking for.
A stand-off commenced, his executives quick to pull out their own weapons, choosing a target with full intent to kill. The one guy focused on Mikey remained adamant to land one right between his eyes, resolve unshakable even with two or three guns aimed back at him. He’d give the idiots credit for boldness. Not everyday does the common thug grow the balls to try something with Bonten.
Unfortunately, they chose the wrong night to chase retribution.
“M-Manjiro…what’s happening?”
At the meek sound of your voice, he subtly reached for you under the table. You practically shook like a leaf, doe-eyes wide at the sight of a gun aimed at your lover with hands raised high as if you were also to blame—Definitely not the ‘simple night out’ you anticipated when he invited you to tag along. It was his own fault really, thinking simple was ever an option when it came to his reputation, not even for a night.
“A-Are they gonna kill us?” You cried, scooting closer to lean against his frame for more comfort. It made him relax a smidge, taking it as a good sign. “Please, j-just name your price, whatever the number, and it’s yours! You don’t have to do this-”
“Unless your money can bring back the dead, sweetheart, you can shove it up your ass!”
Mikey felt you jolt. Sparing you a side glance, his thumb caressed your thigh in small, reassuring circles. His poor baby, must be scared out of your mind. The blonde wanted nothing more than to shatter every bone in the bastards who put such an expression on your face.
“Let my girl step out. This doesn’t involve her.”
“The bitch stays. Want ‘er to watch you die.” The assailant hissed, thrusting the gun forward to bump against Mikey’s forehead.
His brow twitched in annoyance, grip around your thigh tightening ever so slightly as his mind filled with various ways to snap the guy’s arm without you bearing witness. The last thing Mikey wanted was you being afraid of him. You were a slice of normalcy in his chaotic life. Call him selfish, but he wanted you to stick around despite the ugly parts of it, hoping to hide it for as long as he could. Evidently, it was short-lived.
He knew he didn’t deserve it. You were too pure for a tainted soul like his, too soft for someone who’d been hardened by life, too—
“Bitch? ”
The whole room came to a halt.
All eyes had flicked over to you, uncertain if that bone-chilling tone came out of such a meek little thing, who not even seconds ago was visibly trembling. Now you were still as stone, delicate features no longer consumed by fear but contempt as you stared down the man with a slight tilt in your head. Even with tears clinging to your lashes, it was very unsettling.
You gave a hollowed chuckle. “Oh, you got me fucked up.”
The assailant blinked. “Wha-?”
“Shut up, let me tell you something,” you abruptly stood, nearly giving the Bonten men heart palpitations, fearing your next sudden move might be your last. Mikey, however, merely watched in stunned silence, hand that comforted you now hovering awkwardly as he blinked up at you. Jabbing a finger into the man’s chest, you hissed, “You can come up in here waving guns all you want, but I’ll be damned if some limped-dick, broke motherfucker calls me out my name.”
He gaped, then fixed his mouth to threaten you. “Sit your ass down before I make you regret ever meeting this scumbag, you little—”
With a quickness, you swing with a crisp thwack! to the side of his head. The room clamored about, even Mikey found himself blinking rapidly at not only your swiftness, but your audacity. With the opposition aiming their guns on you immediately, the executives instantly jetted their attention over to Mikey to gauge his reaction. He remained visual unnerved, save for the slight drop in his jaw.
“SHIT—FUCK,” the man yowled, stumbling back. With his ear ringing, vision blurring with tears, it was a wonder where you kept all that unbridled strength. Was this the same person who feared for their life not even moments ago? When he clumsily regained composure, he looked at you utterly stunned. “D—…Did you just fucking slap me? Have you lost your mind, you crazy—?!”
You raised your hand, making him flinch. “Say it again. I dare you.”
Flabbergasted. Shockandawe. Slightly aroused?
That was the consensus of every gun-wielder in the room, some more than others unable to mask the evident thrill from hearing such vulgar and venomous words drip from such a pretty mouth…Mikey being the first in line. Man’s still gawked with a glint in his eye that could only be described as carnal; since when had his kitten grown claws?
“GYAT.” Ran winced, then gave a snicker. That smack alone bounced off the walls, he just knew that had to smart. “Shake it off, buddy, shake it off.”
Sanzu, with a cackle, exclaimed, “Hit ‘em again!” earning a glare from the aggravated assailant, his gun now pointed at you and no longer on Mikey.
Kakucho grew anxious, the others just as on edge. If they didn’t take action soon, someone was bound to get trigger-happy. The situation was already unpredictable as is, but with your newfound attitude, things were sure to escalate fast. He gruffly voiced, “Boss, what’s our move?…Boss?”
Said blonde paid no kinds of attention.
Head void of any thought aside from your angelic form beneath the soft lighting standing your ground without an ounce of fear, one would think Mikey was in a trance. His bleak stare practically singed right through you, calculative as he watched your pristine facade unravel bit by bit—Such vicious words filled with vinegar and oil, a contrast to your usual peaches and cream, such discourtesy when you’re normally so well-mannered.
How long had you been hiding this side from him?
Mikey thought he had you figured out, from the moment you crossed paths he was certain he’d taint you, the walking cliche of a spoon-fed daddy’s girl who wouldn’t harm a fly, who dated bad boys just to feel something. But now? He wanted nothing more than to unravel you further, leaving you raw and exposed to reveal the devil horns you’d kept hidden behind a false halo.
And frankly, he wouldn’t mind an audience.
“Mikey.” Kakucho urged.
Said blonde hummed in acknowledgment, eyes lazily trailing off you and back at his number three, seemingly distracted. With a wordless exchange, he sighed. Just as things were getting interesting… Mikey reached up and gave the back of your thigh a tender squeeze. You turned to look at him, seething as you rebelled against his silent command. Oh, he’ll enjoy fucking that attitude out of you later.
“Sit down, [_____]. Think you’ve made your point.”
You sneered. “Like hell! My point’s been made when I have this dickhead crawling on his knees, begging for mercy—!”
Before you knew it, you’re grabbed by your thigh and pulled down into his lap. You yelped, arms instinctively shooting out to grab onto something until you landed with a small oof!
As you opened your mouth to protest, your breath hitched and the words catch in your throat at the cool feeling of Mikey’s gun now nudging against your clit through the lace of your underwear. A shutter ran through your body. Thankfully, your little display was enough cover for him to swiftly grab it from his side, playing it off as if he were restraining you.
He leaned in to speak low in your ear. “Cover your ears, baby.”
Goosebumps spread like wildfire across your skin, warmth simmering in the pit of your stomach from both frustration and excitement. Doing as you’re told, you pressed hands into your ears but kept your gaze on the offender in front of you. He was yelling about something, booming voice muffled but no doubt throwing out more threats. His group began to shrink within themselves once the severity of the situation caught up with them, and the odds no longer looked to be in their favor. You almost felt sorry for them; almost.
Before the poor bastard even knew what hit him, the smoking barrel of Mikey’s .45 was the last thing he saw before he hit the cold, hard floor with a hole in the center of his forehead. And just like that, bullets rained from every angle on your side of the room, bodies piling up one after the other until none were left standing. As quick as they came, there they went—Nothing more than stains on what was an originally calm evening.
Your heart pounded in your chest. Mikey could feel it elsewhere.
With his free hand having rested on your inner thigh, thumb dangerously close to where his pistol once was, he could feel a subtle pulse in your clit from the thrilling experience. While his men busied themselves cleaning up the scene, gathering corpses and making disposal arrangements, there was nothing left to distract him from prodding.
“It appears I’ve underestimated you. What other sides have you kept hidden from me, I wonder.” He said, tilting his head.
You whimpered as his thumb pressed against your throbbing little button, biting your lip before replying, “I-I just don’t like.. being talked to that way…”
Mikey hummed, nosing at your jaw. “My sweet girl. She got her feelings hurt, hm?”
It was hard to concentrate with him playing with you beneath the table in front of his subordinates, spreaking low and softly as he littered your sensitive spots with nips and warm kisses. With the little sanity you had left, you nodded. To your horror, you moaned quite loudly when he breached past your underwear to slip two fingers inside of you with ease thanks to your flooding arousal. But, you got over it the second he immediately curled them to hit that spongey area of your walls with a precision that nearly made you see stars.
“Your words, [_____]. You had a lot to say earlier, what happened?”
You gripped his forearm for dear life, jaw dropping as your legs subconsciously spread to give him better access. “Y-Yes!”
He cooed, arm flexing as he pushed his fingers deeper while his thumb stimulated your clit. Your back arched off his front, other hand reaching out to grip the table as you whined shamelessly at the ceiling. Neither of you paid any mind to where you were, or whomever watched, too caught up in the moment. Food had long gone cold and forgotten, bullet fragments scattered at your feet and blood splattered all on the walls. Even with his stomach growling angrily, all he could focus on was devouring you. “‘m sorry, baby. Let me make it all better.”
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iiconicxpersona · 11 months
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Don’t Leave Me
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Javier Peña x f!reader
Summary: After an extremely traumatic experience during the Escobar case, reader debates between staying in Colombia with Javier or leaving him for good.
Warnings: smut (18+) mvrd3r, depression, angst, read at your own risk, minors DNI
A/N: Had to repost because original only posted half 😫 to be fair I was at target lmao
Life as the significant other of a DEA agent was no joke, especially for Javier Peña. You had heard the horror stories on the news, and you knew there was much more gruesome details Javier wasn’t telling you about. He sheltered you to the best of his abilities for your sake and for the sake of his own sanity. He liked coming home to some sort of normalcy, but he loved how even after the most life threatening days all it took was holding you in his arms and kissing your lips to make everything all right again. You were his sanctuary, his home.
However, after a year into your relationship with Javi, you finally got a small taste of what Pablo Escobar and the Colombian cartels were capable of.
Javier didn’t give you too many details, but he warned you that it might be safer for you to go back to America and stay with your family until the heat cooled down. Pablo had figured out Javier and Steve Murphy were hot on his tracks and the last thing Javi wanted was for you to get hurt. Nevertheless, you fought against the idea of leaving him—even if it was just temporary—until Javi finally gave in. “You got yourself a fighter, Javs.” Murphy would tell him.
“She doesn’t know what she’s getting herself into.” Javier would respond.
He was right. You had absolutely no fucking idea of what you were getting yourself into, until one morning you woke up to the nonstop ringing of the doorbell to your and Javi’s shared apartment. You should’ve known something was up when you looked through the peephole and saw that nobody was there, but curiosity got the best of you.
When you opened the door, there was a package on the floor with no labels on it. You wanted to ignore it, and if Javier didn’t have to leave early for work that morning he would’ve gotten rid of it himself. You had a gut feeling not to open it, but your body reacted faster than your brain and before you knew it the package was sitting on the coffee table in front of you. The apartment was quiet. Too quiet. Quiet enough that if the package was a bomb, you would hear it. No such sound was made. The Devil and Angel on your shoulders raged against each other on the idea of opening it until you finally started cutting the tape off.
The scream that left your lungs at the sight haunted the entire apartment complex for months. Inside the box were the lifeless head and hands of a woman with features similar to yours. The hands cradled each side of the head while wrapped securely in saran wrap to prevent the blood from dripping. It was pretty clear that this was a message for Javi and for you. They know who you are. They’re watching you.
Javier knew right then and there that you were no longer safe from the reality of this cruel world. His home had been tainted. His sanctuary had burned to the ground. This was all his fault. He shouldn’t have asked you out the night Steve’s wife Connie introduced you. He shouldn’t have called you back for a second and third date. He shouldn’t have made love to you. He shouldn’t have fallen in love with you, but he did.
He fell hard for you, and the worst part is you fell just as hard for him too, even when there were so many signs from his job alone telling you to leave him. This package was the biggest sign of them all.
As much as he loved you, Javier wouldn’t have blamed you one bit if you decided to break up with him. He expected it to happen sooner or later, but despite everything you still chose to stay. “Javier, I love you. We’re in this together no matter what.”
“I promise, cariño, I’m done when this is over. I love you. I want you to marry me. I want you to be the mother of my children. I want to start a new life with you.”
“I want that too, Javi, so much.”
Life only seemed to get harder ever since the package delivery scene. As if it wasn’t enough to try and protect himself and Steve on a daily basis, now you were added to the mix. Even though he knew during the day you were safe with Connie at work, on the inside he still worried himself to death over you. He needed to know where you were at every hour of the day and to know you were safe. Steve tried to convince Javi to think of you as one of the former informants he used to sleep with and toss to the back burner while on the job, but Javi couldn’t if he tried. He didn’t love them. He loves you.
That’s the problem; you love Javier. You don’t want to be without him. You and Javier belong together. So why are you still fighting the thought of leaving him? Why are you still looking for any excuse to pack your things and walk away from Colombia and from Javi forever? Why can’t you do it when he flat out tells you “if you want to leave then leave”?
Ever since the delivery, you felt your love for Javier and your sanity struggling to balance on a sewing thread. You couldn’t get the image of the lifeless body parts out of your head. The face of the poor woman haunted you in your sleep. It was as if you were watching like a fly on the wall as her life was being taken away just for a few of her remains to be on your doorstep. And for what? Why did it have to take harming an innocent woman to scare you?
Javier could feel you slipping away from him. Every time he tried to pull you back down to earth, it only ended in an argument. He didn’t like going to bed with your back facing him. He didn’t like ending every fight with giving you the opportunity to leave him for good. He didn’t like going to bed angry and waking up to you not talking to him. He didn’t like hearing you silently sob yourself back to sleep after your reoccurring nightmares, but he had no choice. You weren’t the same anymore. He hated his job for fucking up his own sanity, but he hated it even more for destroying the one good thing he was given in his life; you.
After a month of trying to overcome everything by yourself, you finally decided to seek professional help from one of the therapists the DEA provided. Connie recommended for you to see her therapist, Trinidad, after Javier came to Connie desperate for some advice.
Trinidad understood the confidentiality of the ongoing investigation, so she didn’t press you for details. You explained to her about your nightmares and your relationship with Javi. In the end she was only there to let you talk her ear off and prescribe you with anxiety and anti-depressant medication. If it wasn’t for the obvious reasons, you could’ve just called your mom or best friend and did all this from home for free.
By the time Javi came home from work that night, you were already in bed with your back facing his side. You weren’t asleep—God knows you haven’t had a decent sleep in a month—instead you just stared blankly at the wall in front of you. Feeling Javi’s body weight taking his place on his side of the bed, you waited anxiously for the sound of his faint snore to signal it was time for you to yet again sob yourself to sleep.
However, you felt the weight change and suddenly his body was pressed against your back. One of his hands caressed your hip as he began trailing gentle kisses from your shoulder, to your neck, all the way to the shell of your ear.
“Cariño, come back to me, por favor.” He whispered.
Oh how your body ached for his touch. It feels like forever since he last called you ‘cariño’. You didn’t realize how much you missed him. Even though your body was telling him different, your words were trying to push him away.
“Javi, please, don’t.” You groaned as your head fell backwards and your fingers entangled in his hair.
“Please mi vida. We haven’t made love in so long. I miss you.” His hand ran slowly under your sleepwear, at the same time pushing you gently backwards until your body was fully pressed against him.
You gasped at the feel of his bare body spooning you. The arm that was holding him up snaked under your neck and secured your upper body in place as his other hand slowly massaged your soaking wet clit. A desperate moan escaped your lips and you began grinding yourself on his hand.
“Fuck. I missed you so much, baby.” He groaned against your ear.
“I missed you too, Javi. So. Much.” Your legs began spreading wider until your top leg overlapped his own.
His hand fully engulfed your pussy and his fingers slowly worked their way inside you, massaging your walls as you tightened around him. The sound of your moans making him harder than a rock and you could feel how desperate he was to be inside you by how hard he was dry humping you from the back.
You turned your head to face him with your hand still gripping his hair and your hips grinding harder into his hand. “Kiss me.” You moaned.
He didn’t hold back. Javier kissed you so deeply that it took your breath away. Almost as if you were experiencing it for the first time. In fact, this felt almost similar to when he did make love to you for the first time. He made you feel safe. He made you feel beautiful. He worshipped your body like an absolute goddess, kissing every scar and every beauty mark he could find and devouring you like you were his only meal.
The only restraint you had on him were the clothes you had on and you knew he was getting desperate to tear them off, but he also wanted to take his time with you. He wanted to make you feel good. To release the fear and tension that held you captive from him for the past month. He was desperate just to have you back.
His hand gradually picked up the pace and you whined in pure bliss in his mouth. “Javi�� baby… I’m gonna cum.”
“Cum for me, baby. Cum for me.” Javier whispers in between kisses.
Your lips connected once more in a deep breathtaking kiss as you came hard on his hand. Beads of sweat now starting to form on your bodies.
You rode out your high on his hand and continued to kiss him at the same time, cherishing every moment. “I love you.” You moaned in between kisses.
“I love you too. More than anything.” His hand slipped out of your pants and you both adjusted yourselves to where he was now on top of you in a missionary position. “Querida, I don’t want to be without you, but I don’t want you to live in fear with me either. You’re so pure to me, so fragile. I’ll protect you no matter what. Just please, please don’t leave me like that again.”
Tears fell down your face as you stared up at him. Your heart swelled and broke in your chest at the same time. You didn’t realize it until now, but you scared him. The entire month you shut yourself away from him scared him more than any dangerous curveball his job threw at him. He could be sitting face to face with Escobar himself and that didn’t scare him as much as the thought of knowing his last memory of you would be you scared, tired, sad and angry with him. No last kiss, no last ‘see you later my love’, no last lunch time call, no nothing. And at that moment, you hated yourself for being so selfish the past month. “I’m so sorry, Javi. I didn’t realize—“
He shushed you and gently wiped away your tears. “No llores, mi vida. You have nothing to be sorry about. Just promise me you’ll try to talk to me next time. That’s all I ask.”
You immediately nodded and peppered his lips with kisses. “I will. I’m so sorry baby. I love you so much.” You said in between.
“I love you too.” He returned each kiss and embraced your body closer to him.
Your hands gripped at his bare back as your legs wrapped around his waist. “Make love to me, Javi.” You whispered.
Without hesitation he pulled you up high enough to remove your top, exposing your breasts and you helped him remove your shorts and panties until you were just as bare as he was.
Still sitting upright on his knees, he hugged you body close to him as you adjusted yourself on his lap until his tip was pushing inside you. For a brief moment, you and Javi stared lovingly into each others eyes, saying everything you couldn’t spit out into words right now and kissed each other passionately.
Gasping as you sunk down on him, you had to take a moment to adjust to his size. A month felt like an eternity without him inside you. He groaned as your walls clenched around him and he gently pushed himself further inside you, guiding your hips with his hands as he felt you slowly grind down on him and your body relaxing.
“There you go, baby. Relax for me.” He smiled in the kiss.
You broke the kiss to throw your head back from the pleasure, but one of his hands caught the back of your head and guided you back down to him. “No baby, keep your eyes on me.” He begged and you nodded.
Javi wanted to cherish every moment when he would make love to you. He loved the way your body moved perfectly with his, how the sweat covered you from head to toe, the way your eyes desperately tried to stay open to look at him even when he was balls deep inside you. But what he loved most of all was the sounds you made. The praises that spilled from your beautiful lips, letting him know exactly how good he was making you feel. He loved hearing you moan, especially his name. He didn’t care if anyone else in the complex heard them or not, but if they did then he wanted them to know it was him and only him that could make you feel this good. Just as you wanted everyone to know you belong to Javier Peña and Javier Peña belongs to you.
He pushed you backwards until you were back in the missionary position and kissed you once more. His arms hooked your legs over them and he spread you open wider. Biting at your jawline and chin. His thrusts slammed into you harder and deeper, making you and him moan each other’s names louder. Your nails clawed at his back and he hissed.
It must have occurred to both of you subconsciously that he wasn’t wearing protection and you haven’t taken your birth control pills in the past week, but that didn’t slow either of you down.
“I want you to have my babies.” He groaned against your lips and continued thrusting deep into you.
“Then give them to me, Javi.” You moaned.
Javier lost all self restraint at that moment. He gripped tighter at your legs as his thrusts became faster and deeper, making you cry out for him even louder.
“Ahh, Javi… oh god! So! Fucking! Good!”
“You’re so fucking perfect cariño. All mine.”
You could feel that both of you are so close. His thrusts became sloppy and desperate as you fell apart underneath him.
“Are you ready, my love?” He kissed you once more and tried to keep eye contact with you.
“Give me your babies, Javi.”
And just like that, you both came undone hard at the same time and quivered in each others embrace.
Javi stayed on top of you and kept himself buried deep inside you as if he was afraid of spilling out. You smiled up at him and kissed him passionately once more.
“There’s that beautiful smile I missed so much.”
You giggled. “I’m never leaving you again.”
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holylulusworld · 6 months
Text
Beta in heart
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Summary: You’ve got a secret.
Pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x Beta!Reader (fem)
Side pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x Omega! Cassie Robinson
Warnings: angst, a/b/o, a/b/o dynamics, lies, jealousy, unrequited feelings, Dean being an ass, rut
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Now, … 
We all lie sometimes. Right? Little white lies to make the person next to you feel more comfortable, or to protect yourself.
In your case, it was the latter. 
Maybe you did it to not be treated like someone’s property. Maybe to protect yourself from getting hurt. 
In the end, it didn’t matter. Not anymore. 
He found out the truth and is furious. Even worse, he tries to break down the door to get inside your room.
His rut won’t let him think straight. If he manages to break your door, he’ll claim you in the heat of the moment. Just like you always feared…
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A few days earlier, Cape Girardeau, Missouri
“I wanted to thank you again for helping me,” Cassie guiltily looks at you. 
It’s the first time you met her, but the second time for Sam and Dean helping her with a case. According to what Sam told you, she’s usually bubbly and self-confident. 
But the moment you stepped into her living room, following Sam and Dean to tell her that the wrath had been defeated, she changed. Her eyes drop to the ground, and you frown as you seem to be the reason for her behavior.
“It was nothing, really,” you hastily say before one of the brothers can tell her so. “Dean’s friends are our friends. And it’s our job to hunt down the evil.”
“Well…I…” She trails off, glancing at Dean. “It wasn’t nothing. All of you risked your lives.” 
Sam clears his throat, jerking his head toward the door. “I’ll get the books,” he says. “Can you lend me a hand, Y/N?”
“Sure,” you wrinkle your forehead but follow Sam outside. You know Cassie is an old friend of Dean and maybe he wants to have some time alone with her.
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Sam and you left Cassie’s place to get a few hours of sleep. It’s a long drive back to your current hideout, and you don’t want to sleep in the car again.
Dean didn’t come back. Of course, he didn’t. You’re not foolish enough to believe he’d not take the chance and get laid.
You knew the moment Cassie came back into the picture that he’d jumped the chance to have a tête-à-tête with the pretty brunette goddess. 
Years ago, you would’ve spent the night curled into a ball, the pillow tear-stained because of your broken heart. Now it’s just a dull pain you can suppress and ignore.
You accepted a long time ago that Dean is not interested in you in a romantic way. He sees the sister in you they never had. 
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Dean came back in the morning, smiling and joking while you tried to hide your sour mood. It’s not his fault that you are in love with the cocky alpha for years. 
You told him about your feelings during a drunk escapade. Dean didn’t remember in the morning, and you acted like you didn’t pour your heart out.
“Cassie invited all of us for lunch,” he casually says. As if you can’t see the hickeys on his neck, or still smell her on him. “What do you say? Sammy? Sweetheart?”
That nickname makes you want to throw up. It sounds like he tries to mock you using it after he fucked some other omega. 
Again, you tell yourself it’s not his fault you fell for him. It’s yours for not telling him how you feel sooner, or while you are sober.
“Fine by me. I’m hungry, and free food is free food,” you casually say while you struggle to keep the sadness out of your voice. “She’s nice.”
“Yeah, she is,” he dreamily says, smiling dopily, breaking your heart even more as he tells you that he wants to come back more often from now on.
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“Dean said you are beta, and that you are strong and smart,” Cassie awkwardly looks at you. She stiffly points to the couch, inviting you to sit with her. Dean and Sam wanted to check on another case one town away and you are left with the omega Dean chose over you. “So—uh…you hunt with the boys.”
“For a few years,” you shrug and try to ignore that you can smell Dean on her. He must’ve done more than help her wash the dishes. You shudder and scrunch up your nose.
“What’s wrong with you?” She cocks her head and watches you squirm on the sofa. “Y/N? Are you sick?”
You make a retching noise, concerning her even more. “I’m fine. It’s just…nothing…forget it.” You shake your head.
“Shit,” Cassie exclaims. “You can smell Dean on me. Right? That’s the reason you act like you are about to puke on my carpet. Does he know?”
Your heart drops. She cannot tell Dean. He’ll get mad and chase you away if he ever finds out about your true nature. “I don’t know what you are talking about.”
“Only omegas can smell an alpha,” she softly says and places her hand on your knee. “You are hiding your nature from him, I assume.”
“I-no…”
“Why didn’t you tell him that you are an omega? Why lie to him? If you see him as your alpha…” She sighs deeply as you still refuse to admit that you are not a beta. “We both know that you feel more than friendship for him.”
“If you have an ounce of decency and a heart, you won’t tell him, “You get up from your seat. “You fucked him without asking if I’m his mate. So, you owe me.”
It’s not fair to call Cassie out on sleeping with Dean, but you’ve got no choice. She can’t tell him what she found out. And you will make sure of it.
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“She doesn’t want to see me again, Y/N! What did you say to Cassie!” Dean is furious. After your little talk with Cassie, she decided it’s best to make sure that you and Dean finally talk about the elephant in the room.
“I don’t know what you are talking about!”
“She said you are hiding things from me, and that you have feelings for me! I thought we talked about catching feelings. We both agreed on never talking about what you told me that night.”
“You remember?” You shake your head in disbelief. “All this time I believed you were oblivious to my feelings. But you knew all along.”
“You’re beta and we can never be together.”
“What if I was omega? Would my presentation change things between us?” It’s time to be brave and talk to Dean. 
“It doesn’t matter if you are an omega or not. Your presentation wouldn't change a thing. We are friends and should keep it that way.”
“Oh, okay,” you nod and tell yourself again that you are over your crush on the hunter. “Good to know. You should call Cassie and tell her we talked shit out.”
Dean watches you storm off. He sighs and shakes his head. “We can’t ruin our friendship.”
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Dean followed your advice and called Cassie. Only for her to turn him down once again.
“Omega? No,” Dean shakes his head. Cassie tried to keep your true nature a secret, but she spilled the truth when Dean tried to kiss her. “Why are you saying these things? Do you want me to leave? Is it that?”
“I want you to talk to your friend! She’s hiding her true nature because of you and your friendship. I think she’s in love with you. You should’ve seen the way she reacted to your scent on my skin.”
Dean opens his mouth. He tries to say something, but then he realizes that Cassie must’ve told him the truth. “My scent?” Dean shakes his head. “That’s impossible. Only omegas can scent an alpha.”
“Exactly,” she softly says. “Dean, as long as you’ve got an omega yearning for you around, we can’t be more than friends.”
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Dean slams the door to the bunker shut. He can’t believe Cassie broke things up over a misunderstanding. You can’t be an omega.  
“Where is Y/N?” he asks, glaring in Sam’s direction. Dean is close to losing his composure and has no patience left. “I need to talk to her.”
“She texted me. I think she’s at the bar,” Sam wrinkles his forehead. Something seems to be off with you and his brother. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I’ll be at the bar.”
“O-kay. I’ll be here, reading one of the books I bought on our way back. Call me if you need help.”
Watching his brother storm off Sam wonders what happened between you and his brother.
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“Do you ever think, whoa, I should jump into my car and just ride into the sunset?” You grumble as Donnie the bartender refills your glass.
“Sometimes,” he shrugs. “I like my job, and this town is nice. People tip me well so, it’s not very often.”
“Hmm…” you nod slowly. “I fucked things up between me and a good friend. Maybe he’ll hate me now.”
“Speaking of said man,” Donnie jerks his head toward the door. “He looks mad. What did you do?”
“Y/N, what are you—” Dean stops in his tracks. He dips his head, and looks you up and down before he takes a step toward you. He stops again, sniffing in your direction. “No. This can’t be.”
“Dean, what are you doing here? I thought you wanted to talk to Cassie.”
“What did you do?” Dean grabs your arm, making you wince as he forgets about his strength.
“Let me go, Dean. You are hurting me,” you wiggle in his tight grip. “Dean!” 
“I can scent you,” he growls. “Why did you hide that you’re an omega? Huh? You hide your nature only to reveal who you really are right when I meet Cassie again.”
“I hate being weak and vulnerable during my heats. And I don’t want anyone to believe I’m a pathetic omega who’s needy all the time and wants to nest. I didn’t want you to see a liability in me!”
You break out of Dean’s grip and run out of the bar. He needs a moment, looking at Donnie before he storms out of the bar to chase after you.
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Now, …
Dean came back to the bunker a few hours after you left the bar, his rut in full swing. When Sam tried to stop him from getting to you, he knocked his brother out.
“Open the fucking door or I’ll break it down,” Dean warns one last time. “I mean it, Y/N! OPEN IT!”
He kicks the door again. This time the lock gives in, and the door creaks open. You hide under your bed, hoping Dean will calm down before he does something he’ll regret…
Part 2
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Tags in reblog.
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starsandhughes · 11 months
Note
I beg you to write just a crumb about protective Quinn or Trevor
a month after your breakup with quinn, you decided it was time to stop moping around and put yourself back out there. you ended on good terms, you two just weren’t in the same place in life right now. it wasn’t bad, and you two still occasionally talked, but you were taking some time to adjust how to be friends again before hanging out again. you were stupid about putting yourself back out there, however, because you decided to go out alone.
“hey, gorgeous,” you heard a man say before you felt him slide his hand around your waist and plop himself in the chair next to you at the bar. “what are you doing here all by yourself?
he was clearly drunk, and his grip on you was tight. you were immediately put off and wanted him to leave.
“i’m actually waiting for someone,” you said.
“really? because i’ve seen you sitting here by yourself for twenty minutes. what do you say you ditch this guy you’re waiting for and come home with me? i promise i’ll be a lot more fun,” he said, scooting closer to you and gripped your thigh with his other hand.
“i’m good,” you said as you tried to pull yourself away.
“i don’t think so,” the man said darkly.
“then how about you order me another drink while i go to the bathroom?” you said shaking.
“and let you get away? no. i’ll come with you to the bathroom.”
you gulped and nodded your head. you could call someone in the bathroom. you could stay there until they came. his hand gripped your side as he walked you to the bathroom and practically threw you through the door.
you went into the last stall and took out your phone and dialed the number of the only person that would make you feel safe right now.
“hello?” quinn answered.
“qu- quinn?”
you heard quinn shuffle around, “what’s wrong? are you hurt?”
“i’m- i’m at a bar. by myself. a guy came up to me and started touching me and he walked me to the bathroom because he doesn’t trust me and wants to take me to his place and i think he’s going to-“ you choked up at the end and started to full on sob. “fuck, i’m so sorry!”
“no, hey, hey, hey, just breathe. are you at the normal bar?”
“yes,” you said shakily.
“stay in the bathroom. i’m five minutes out. i’ll be right there, okay? i’ll stay on the line,” quinn told you inna calming voice. you heard him grab his keys and the door slamming shut, “okay.”
quinn kept talking to you as he sped to the bar. you weren’t responding, just listening to his calming voice. you heard his car door slam shut as he told you that he was there.
“there’s a few guys near the bathroom, can you come out so i know which one he is and i can take you home?” quinn asked.
you came out as asked and were immediately grabbed by the man that chose you as his prey for the night.
“what took you so long?!” he asked through gritted teeth.
you didn’t even get a chance to come up with a stupid excuse before quinn’s fist connected with the man that had a hold on you. the guy was well over six foot and towered over quinn, but quinn was the athlete. he was a drunk.
the guy tried to fight back, but quinn quickly had a hold on him and took him to the ground. you ran over to him and wrapped your arms around his waist and began to sob again. his arms went around you, one on your back, the other cradling your head to his chest.
“it’s okay,” he cooed. “i got you.”
security came around as the guy was getting off the ground and tried to charge towards you and quinn, but the bouncers grabbed him first and dragged him out screaming out of the bar.
you finally pulled away from quinn and smoothed out your hair, “thank you. i’m sorry, quinn. i didn’t know who else to call and i-“
quinn cut you off by pulling you in for another hug. he kissed the top of your head, “don’t be sorry. i’m sorry this guy came after you and i am so glad that you called. it was a smart move to get him to take you to the bathroom. it was a smart move to call me. none of this is your fault, okay?”
you nodded against his chest, “okay.”
he hugged you even tighter and brought his hand back to your head, “fuck you scared me. i was so worried the entire drive here. if anything happened to you, i don’t know what i would do with myself. i could’ve lost you tonight! i-“
it was your turn to cut him off, but this time, you kissed him.
“i’m okay,” you whispered when you parted lips.
“i still love you,” quinn blurted out.
“i still love you, too,” you said.
“can i… take you back to my place? we can talk and try to figure us out.”
“i’d like that,” you smiled.
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Text
Rebuild & Restore - Chapter 2
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I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS
Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤ 
All OC Characters belong to me
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Jon sighed as he watched Kiyana’s car peel off down the street. Kiyana was like a sister to him and to see how much his words hurt her, hurt him. He stomped back into his daughter's party and pulled Josh to the side. 
“You wrong. Why you ain’t telling everybody the truth? Got Yana out here looking like the asshole and she’s not, you are!” Josh sucked his teeth. 
“Mind ya’ fucking business Jonathan. If you wanna be technical about it. You ain’t tell Kiyana the whole truth either. You knew I was sleeping with Shanté and never said anything.” 
“Cause I thought you was gonna handle it Josh!” Jon yelled. “You got this attitude like Kiyana did you wrong and that ain't the case. You the one that ruined your marriage, not her so stop treating her like everything is her fault!” 
“EVERYTHING IS HER FAULT!” Josh boomed back. “She fucked Joe of all people! She wanted to get back at me, cool, fine, whatever. It could have been with anyone else, but she chose Joe so fuck her.” 
“HEY!” Trinity yelled as she came around to the side of the house that Jon had pulled Josh over too. “Everyone can hear you, including your kids.” She said, aiming that last part at Josh. “Today is Jayla’s day and y’all not about to ruin it.” Josh sucked his teeth and brushed past the two of them. When Jon went to follow, Trinity grabbed his arm stopping him. “You knew about Shanté and Josh?” 
Jon sighed. “He told me when-” 
“Why the fuck didn’t you say anything Jonathan!” She cut him off  “You knew he was having an affair and kept it to yourself.” Trinity took a deep breath trying to calm herself down. “We gon talk about this later.” She muttered, giving him a stank look as she walked away from him. 
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“No, fuck this.” Kiyana muttered, wiping the tears off her face as she made a U-Turn and made her way back to Jon’s house. She rolled her eyes and ignored the mummers as she stormed back into the party and dragged Josh into the house by the collar of his shirt. 
“Damn, Kiyana wait..” Josh said as he stumbled behind her. 
“No, you fucking wait! I’ve been by your side for twenty-three years and for you to not say anything to Mel is fucking crazy.”  Josh scoffed and folded his arms. 
“You wanted me to defend you?” He chuckled. “We ain’t together anymore Kiyana. Call up Joe, I'm pretty sure his big ass will jump to defend you.” Kiyana stared at him in disbelief. She blinked a couple of time before reaching up and slapping him across his face. 
“Fuck you Joshua.” She glared at him before turning on her heels and storming away from him. She quickly walked over to Kaiden and Kamari and then grabbed Kairo out of Talisua’s arms before leaving the party, not saying a word to anybody else. 
She didn’t care if her taking her kids made her a ‘bitter baby mama’. She wasn't going to allow anybody to disrespect her. She was sick and tired of being looked at like the bad guy, so that's exactly what she was about to become… 
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Around 10pm that night there was a knock on her door and she knew exactly who it was. He had been texting her since she left the party with her kids. 
“What?” She asked, rolling her eyes as he tried to push his way past her. “You not coming in my house.” 
“Oh, you mean the house that I paid for. Move out my way Kiyana. I just wanna say goodnight to my kids.” 
“No.” Kiyana folded her arms. “You’re not coming in here. Goodbye Joshua.” She tried to shut the door in his face, but he placed his foot in the doorway. 
“Kiyana.” He gritted out, teeth clenched together as if he was trying to hold himself back from going off on her. “You made your point. I’ll speak up next time.” 
“Next time?” She scoffed, pushing on the door, but he wouldn’t move his foot.  “There should be no next time Joshua. Now go away before I call the cops.” 
“You being childish as hell Key! I just wanna say goodnight to my sons, damn!” He yelled, pushing the door harder so Kiyana could lose her balance. She winced as he back met the wall and Josh’s eyes softened at the pained look on her face.  “Shit, my bad Key.” 
“Just leave please. The boys are already in bed. Ain’t shit else here for you.” Josh sighed and nodded his head. 
“Can you have them call me when they wake up?” 
“I’ll think about it.” She said, rubbing her back. 
“Kiyana - “ 
“I said I'll think about it. Goodnight.” She muttered, closing the door in his face. Josh stood on the front door of his former home, watching through the glass door as Kiyana set the home security system. She looked back at him before shaking her head and turning off the porch light and walking up the stairs leaving him standing in the darkness of the night. 
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“Home sweet home.” Josh muttered as he walked into his apartment. This was not the life for him. He needed to be with his boys. He needed to be with Kiyana, but she didn’t want him anymore and Josh still couldn’t fully comprehend that they were divorced. He felt naked without his wedding ring. He felt incomplete without Kiyana by his side and he was going to do anything and everything for them to be a family again.. Starting with his sister Melvania. 
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Chapter 2 down.. thank you for all the nice comments and all of the love on chapter 1.
Josh is a little bi-polar when it comes to Kiyana and their relationship.. he blames her for their divorce but he also wants his wife back...
(if you think they're getting back together.. think again)
Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤ 
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gnabnahc-143 · 7 months
Text
Stuck with you | B.C
Pairing: Bang Chan x reader
Summary: 4 times people were convinced you and chan were in love + 1 time you finally realized why
Genre: 4+1, best friends to lovers, indenial motherfucker, high school AU, just fluff really
wc: 5.8k (the way this is the longest fic I’ve ever written, not my fault I love Chan)
Song suggestions: Sick of you - Suriel Hess
Note: pretend Minho and Chan are the same age😅. Also this is me trying to delay posting chapter 2 of the way I loved you.
BONUS | skz reaction to you two finally getting together
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1.
God you fucking hated math. It’s funny you chose to take the hardest math class offered, funny how you transferred from a class way easier, getting way better grades, claiming to love the subject and wanting to be challenged, all because of a boy.
Bang Chan had been your best friend for a little over 3 years in your junior year and you felt yourselves drift a part as you chose classes far different from each other, to better suit the paths each of you were going to take. Spending most of your time with him online or the passing times in the hallway when you encounter the other as he spent most breaks with his own set of friends, the boys you grew fond of, whilst you spent it with your girls. Transferring became an option when you realized your math grades were outstanding, having a natural gift for it albeit your hatred, and your friends started questioning why you hadn’t chosen a harder class. When you brought it up, he had eagerly begged you, being in that very class, he wanted to spend more time with you.
Being utterly weak (and whipped) for him, you relented, figuring it couldn’t be that much harder as the class you were in was only a level easier, oh how wrong you were. Now in your senior year you sat in the corner table of the math class, away from the chaos of your gifted peers carelessly chatting, clutching your hair in confusion.
“I can’t believe they have time to talk, I’m actually going to fail this class” your friend Lisa, a girl you got closer to after transferring, had said as she sat in the table in front of you. The class was built so that each table could only fit one person, and you two had always chosen to sit on the tables in the corner end of the classroom, finding it better to focus that way.
“I know, I’m pretty sure the shit we’re learning is university level” you groaned, releasing the grasp on your hair as you leaned back into your chair. She laughed and agreed, you two fell into a light conversation whilst continuing to focus on studying, eyes trained precisely on the piece of paper that you were sure would haunt your dreams from now on. You noticed she had gone quiet and you turned ahead to see why.
“Need any help?” Speak of the devil that had put you in the very situation that had you miserable. He was smiling at you, amused at the way you had your eyebrows furrowed almost permanently. You turned to glare at your best friend, rolling your eyes, “I don’t know how you convinced me to transfer” you pouted. He giggled as he pulled up a chair next to you, squeezing his way into the table, frowning you turned to him, confused to why he had opted to join your struggles instead of joining his chattering friends. Chris was, to put it lightly, a genius, so he had no reason to join your misery parade yet he did like many times before. You were friends with the people in your class, but you preferred to stay away from the chaos, indulging in your introverted nature. Chan, although an extrovert, always seemed to join you instead of the crowd which confused you but you never questioned it, instead welcoming his company.
“I wouldn’t have supported it if I didn’t know how smart you were, maybe you’re just making it harder than it needs to be” he said in sympathy, continuing on to explain the shortcuts you could take to solve the exact equation that were filled with scribbles of your past attempts. In the end you noticed he was right (or maybe he had a gift of making you memorize and analyze any of his words) as now you had easily finished all the equations given…and in record time.
“See, wasn’t that hard was it?” He teased, patting your head proudly. You rolled your eyes but smiled nonetheless at the caring boy, glad you had him next to you. From then on you two had continued into a conversation, laughing at his attempts to joke, and opting to stay with each other instead of joining the group. By the time the bell had rung, you both were in the midst of a very competitive online chess game (which both of you were a completely novice at).
“Guess we have to end the game” he said with a shining smile, you laughed at his glee, claiming he was only happy as he was clearly losing whilst he laughed in response. He went back to his table to pack his bags, while you chuckled, shaking your head fondly at your dimpled best friend.
Your next class was English which you had also shared with Lisa, turning to her, you were about to ask if she was ready to go when you saw her smirking at you, lifting her eyebrows. “Finally back to earth?” She asked, laughing at your confusion. “I swear you guys are in love” she said, you blushed at the statement, jumping to deny her. Her laughs increased at your refusal shaking her head as she packed her things.
“What do you mean by that, I swear you guys always say it but I really don’t understand why” chuckling in disbelief you’d stated. Her laughter came to a halt, now looking at you in disbelief, finally realizing you were genuinely confused. “You’re joking right?” She said, halting her actions “think about it y/n, you guys are closer than normal friends, he looks at you differently to everyone else, he even acts differently around you. The minute any of you are in each others presence it’s like everyone else doesn’t exist, you guys get into your own worlds, in your own conversations” she pointed out, listing to what you thought were nonsense.
“He’s friends with a bunch of girls, mr popular remember? He’s like that with everyone, that’s why people love him, he makes them feel special” you rebutted, spluttering against your words. “Do you feel special?” She countered, asking. You stayed silent but truly the answer was predictable, he truly made everyone feel like they meant something. “Just think about it, he’s friends with me too, I know how he is with girls, he isn’t like how he is with you. Plus in the hour of our class, he never once looked or spoken to me, it’s always like that whenever you’re in the room, he won’t talk to anyone else or pay attention to them.” At that she ended the topic, you tried to brush it off as you both left the class and fell into mindless small talk but the lingering thought of her words stayed still in the corner of your mind.
2.
“Have you decided where you’re gonna go for uni?” Chan asked as you both sat on the school field, under a tree watching his friends play football like their life depended on it. On any other day you two would part ways during lunch, spending time with each others respective friend groups, but today he’d ask you to join him. In his seasonal clingy nature, claiming he’d barely spent time with you lately.
“You know I’ve always wanted to go overseas, see a different part of the world” you replied, being truthful as you never thought of staying in Korea. University always seemed like your chance of a getaway car, leaving your life left behind, leaving parts of your self you hated behind, memories of past regrets. Recently though you’ve come to realize maybe your past would never leave you and that the only thing you could do was accept that you’ve grown, accept that you’ve changed, these epiphanies coming to light with the aid of your dimpled best friend.
Speaking of which you’ve notice have become silent as you uttered your thoughts, simply lost in thought, keeping his eyes trained on his friends. “If I do, don’t miss me too much yeah” you teased, trying to break the tense atmosphere. He snapped his eyes towards yours, a small smile broke on his face as he rolled his eyes, ruffling your head in the process. He adjusted your positions to lie his head on your lap, as you started stroking his black locks.
Truthfully he was the only thing holding you down, the idea of leaving not being phased by even your friends as they too had ideas of leaving to different countries to study, so really there was no reason for you to, no reason except him. You knew Chris would stay in Korea, having dreams of producing music with his friends, studying it’s art and working freelance until he eventually gets signed (which you knew would happen considering his talent).
“I will miss you” He said, his sad expression coming back, your eyes softening at the look. Although your friendship was always playful, filled with laughter and teasing, he also never held back his affections. It was clear to everyone he loved you, whether that was as a friend or lover was the debate, he spoiled you as his best friend and you reciprocated. There were even days where you cherished each others company so much that all you did was lay on his bed on your phone in silence as he worked on songs on his desk, simply cause he wanted you to be there.
You frowned, continuing your ministrations on his hair after a soft pat to his cheek. “Come on, I haven’t left yet let’s not be all sentimental” you chuckled “hell I haven’t even decided if I am gonna leave, all is still on the fence”. He chuckled nodding, an ounce of hope bringing a blinding smile to his face, his eyes forming to crescents. For the rest of the lunch you continued to talk to each other, some topics even leading to animated arguments and ending in laughter, when it came back to the topic of the future. Somehow in the midst of the conversation, you started talking about marriage, the idea of a perfect future with whoever you chose to love forever.
“Well I want one kid, maybe a son if I got to choose but of course I’d love them all the same if it was a daughter. I’d spoil the death out of them, give them everything and raising them well enough to be grateful for it, well enough to make them want to give as well. I’d have to work for it though so I’d want a husband whose job wouldn’t be as demanding as mine, maybe an artistic type? That way they could be at home whilst still focusing on their dreams, not letting it get in the way of achieving what they want” you ranted, rambling in a daze of recounting your daydreams. Unknowing of the loving fond gaze that was held in Chans gaze as he grinned at your running rambles, holding his laugh in at your enthusiasm in the topic.
As you turned to him, you mistook the fondness for amusement, blushing at the influx of words that had spilled out of you. “Sorry…” you apologized sheepishly, fiddling with your ear. “It’s just something I’ve always thought of to be honest, a perfect ending you know” you continued, trying to save yourself from looking like a crazed planner. He laughed and nodded, assuring you that he too has thought about it like every other person. As you asked him what he thought of, he drifted off in thought, trying to gather all his daydreams. Before he could continue, the boys had joined you, sitting down next to you both…well more like collapsing onto you both.
“Who the hell suggested to play on the hottest day of the year” you heard Jisung complain as he was lying starfish next to Chan. You both looked at each other and laughed at the dramatic mess of boys amongst you, forgetting your past conversation and involving them in a new one. You were again oblivious to the occasional stares and smiles to you gifted by the boy who unknowingly to even yourself caught your heart.
When lunch came to a close, you left with Minho, who unexpectedly became one of the closest friends you’ve gained from Chan, only second to the boy himself, as both of you were heading to home EC.
“Sooo what were you and Chris talking about” the cat-like boy teased whilst wiggling his eyebrows, as you wondered the implication of his question.
“Just our hopes for the future, why?” You asked.
“I don’t know he looked pretty…whipped if you know what I mean” again smirking knowingly at you, whilst you were still stumped to the looks given. You explained the conversation in detail, knowing the nosy boy wouldn’t accept any less. As you went into a ramble on how you had detailed your ideal type to Chris, you saw realization crawl into his face as he muttered an “ahh…”, nodding in confirmation. You looked at him in question, wondering what he discovered to confirm his suspicions of Chan being so called “whipped”.
“God you guys are meant to be or something” he said, chuckling in disbelief still holding the same knowing smirk (one you used to be consistently annoyed by before getting used to it). He shook his head as the confusion has yet to leave your face, ever the menace, he pinched your ear in response. Rolling your eyes you realized this is another one of your friends agenda to insist the romantic love between you and Chris, your conversation with Lisa still plaguing your mind. “Don’t look at me like that, in a few months we’ll be able to say we told you so. With the rate you two are going it might actually be a few years” he said, whispering the last sentence to himself.
Chuckling you decide against arguing as you both had arrived to the class, before it could start however he turned to you “just do me a favor and ask him his ideal future when you see him yeah” he said, ending the conversation as you added the interaction to a collection of thoughts you’d stored in the back of your mind, where many moments revolving Chris was safely repeated. You wondered how you were ever going to concentrate on school as this section of your brain had gotten increasingly big, sometimes even taking the forefront of your mind.
3.
You were concerned, very fucking concerned. On any other day, you wouldn’t bat an eye at the fact that you hadn’t spent time with Chan in a long time (which to you two was only a couple days). That being said, you couldn’t help but grow suspicious when the boys had come to you in confusion as they realized that they too had not seen the eldest of the group in days. At first you brushed it off, as it had been the seniors break before the exams, you blamed his silence on spending time with the family or studying for the finals. Though as you saw him continue his swimming practices in a concentrated face, in silence and away from his usual peers, your concern grew. The only reason you had come to campus was to spend the day studying at the library, hoping to catch some of your teachers for help, but that plan was completely abandoned as you saw your best friend sit quietly by the pool.
“Never took you as a loner” you said as you approached him, smiling in comfort as you noticed his frustrations. He smiled back but you knew it was forced, you had known the guy for almost 5 years at this point and when you say that there was little you could hide from each other, it was not an exaggeration. Being almost tied to the hip for the first 2 years of knowing each other, over the years you grew to read him extremely well, and vice versa.
Silence overtook the two of you as you waited for him to open up, him knowing you caught on to his facade. “What if I don’t make it?” He started “I’ve done everything to make my parents proud, medals from the swim team, good grades, hard classes. I did all of it to make them proud because I know that when I graduate, it will be long until I’ll be able to do that. I’m not gonna be a successful producer from the get-go, I know that, so what if I’m wasting all of this? Making them proud and leaving them with disappointment just to see it was for nothing” continuing into a rant. You looked at him in sympathy, rubbing his back as you saw tears well up in his eyes.
“Chris look at me” you said, wiping his tearful cheeks as he turned to you. “You are the most selfless person I know, you gave up your childhood to be the best student I know, took in a group of juniors and sophomores for no reason just to help and now they’re also some of the smartest people I know. Look you are so fucking talented, you’ve been making music since you could talk, I think your parents have known for a long time what you wanted to do and considering I’ve had long talks with them about our futures, they have no doubts in you, trust me they’ll be happy no matter the path you take. Be selfish Chris for once in your life, you won’t regret it, because at the end of the day, no matter how smart I know you are, you could never do an office job” you rambled, ending the rant with a slight tease to bring a smile to his face and successfully doing so.
“And when you inevitably become a big shot producer, because I know how talented you are and so I know you will, I’ll be cheering you on the sidelines in MY boring old office job as your biggest fan. No pressure though CB97.” You continued, teasing him lightly again with an alias you knew he’d started going by as he finally started publishing his music. After a moment of silence and exchanging grins, he thanked you, putting his arm around your shoulder.
“Ew you’re still wet” you said, scrunching your face but not leaving his embrace, the sour look on your face quickly disappearing as you heard his laugh. After a moment of small talk, both of you parted as he had to go to the showers whilst you had to continue your initial plans of studying, all whilst the grins on both of your faces had yet to leave your face and would continue to be etched on for the rest of the day.
Days after, Minho told you that Chris had gone back to replying to texts, seeming to slowly go back to normal, but he had also still avoided plans to hangout with them. This confused you as Minhos text had also been accompanied with a text from Chris to hang out, either way you were happy to spend time with the boy and eagerly accepted.
Now you sat in the movie theater with him, excitedly waiting for the new Deadpool sequel to start. As the ads and trailers played you fell into a comfortable conversation, not once mentioning his absence and break down, knowing it would be a sore subject for quite some time.
“I would think the boys would want to see this with you” you said. He looked as if he was caught, starting to scratch his neck nervously. “I don’t know, I didn’t think this was their thing” he replied stuttering, you knew he was hiding something but decided to brush it off. Remembering your conversation with Minho, you decided to subtly drift into a conversation about the future, you were successful in doing so as he often got lost into a trance of passion when talking about music.
“I love children but I don’t think I could handle many to be honest. I love my parents but with how busy they are and how busy I was trying to make them proud, I never got to spend much time with them, so I’d want a house with a studio so I could still work late without going home late. That way I could spend a lot of time with my family without compromising my work you know, I don’t think I could ever give up music. In terms of my wife, I don’t really care what they work as, as long as they’re happy, but I do have a thing for ambition so I’d say as long as they’re dedicated to whatever path they choose I’d love them all the same, whether it’s working a big corporate job or a loving mother and housewife.” He rambled, going into the same daze you had been just a month before on the field.
You were overwhelmed with fondness at the caring nature of the boy, gazing at him with a feeling you’d never noticed had always wrapped your heart when looking at him until now. You were still oblivious to the feelings (nor the realization of the similarities in your futures, bless your heart), but you had an inkling that the emotions clouding your head and heart for your best friend wouldn’t leave any time soon.
“Aww Channie, who knew you could be such a sweetheart” you teased, hoping to calm the erratic beating in your chest as you pinched his cheek. The conversation flowed comfortably after that as you both fell into the dynamic you both knew and loved, occasionally laughing until your stomach’s hurt, throwing popcorns into each others mouth to try and pass time before the movie starts, oblivious to the knowing looks and smiles from strangers amongst you.
Before the movie had started you felt your phone vibrate, seeing you had received a text from the boy who had left you in that conversation in the first place.
Minho 🐰😈: have you heard from Chan? Is he okay?
You: why don’t you ask him yourself…
Minho 🐰😈: I have a reputation to uphold
You: okay tsundere
You: [insert image of you two in the movie theater]
Minho 🐰😈: are you guys watching the new Deadpool movie together?!?
Minho 🐰😈: He promised to watch that with us. Bros before hoes my ass😒
Minho 🐰😈: And you say he isn’t in love with you, yeah right
Rolling your eyes, you decided to leave the boy on read. Too many thoughts plaguing you mind to answer, even as the movie began to play.
You tried to ignore the erratic beating in your chest that had never resided. Tried to ignore the way his gaze would pierce into your face occasionally throughout the movie when he thought you wouldn’t notice. Tried to ignore the way his hands felt on your face as he jokingly fed you a piece of popcorn. Tried to ignore the similarities in the way you saw your futures. Most importantly, tried to ignore how he had basically gone M.I.A for days but decided to hang out with you first amongst all his friends, even though they had promised to watch the movie together after seeing the first. But you couldn’t.
You didn’t want to seem delusional, as he, again, always had a way of making people feel special. God did you feel special.
4.
You didn’t know why you were crying.
For a couple months, you and Yeonjun had been talking. You liked him, he was funny, smart, handsome, and you two had been friends beforehand so it all never seemed forced. You knew a part of why you had sought out a romantic interest was to distract yourself from an ongoing dilema plaguing your mind for months, but you weren’t ready to confront that. Everything with Yeonjun was nice, fun, casual. So it shouldn’t be surprising when he decided to end your situationship abruptly for a more serious relationship with another girl, shouldn’t be surprised that he so quickly moved on with a lovesick smile to the girl next to him. More shocking than anything was the way you found yourself crying in your best friends arms, infiltrating his home suddenly, jumping on his bed to cuddle him for comfort.
You felt guilty for intruding, especially as you felt a slight drift between you two as of recently (not realizing it had started the minute you had begun to talk to Yeonjun). Though your guilt disappeared as you felt him hold you tighter, running his hands through your hair, and whispering comforting words and shushes to help calm your cries. As he heard hiccups replace your sobs, he slightly pulled away gently, just enough to wipe your tears whilst still keeping you close. Fixing the hair on your face in the process, holding your face as if you’d break, looking at you in concern. “If you’re not ready to tell me what’s making you cry like this, it’s okay, but just know you can trust me yeah” he said, his patient and caring nature pulling at your heart strings, making you pull away from his hold just to tuck your face back into his neck.
“I don’t even know why I’m crying, I didn’t even like him that much” you muttered, more to yourself than him, shifting your body to talk more comfortably but still lying your head on his shoulder as you laid next to him instead of on top of him. He used his arm around you to continue running his hand through your hair, you knew friends shouldn’t be this close but you also weren’t ready to face that. “Yeonjun?” He’d asked, your head still tucked in his neck, you couldn’t see the heavy furrow of his eyebrows.
“Yeah…he uhh he’s with another girl now, they’re serious, even though he told me he never wanted anything serious. To be fair to him, I told him the same, but it hurts cause in a way I was waiting for him you know, I would’ve never said I didn’t want anything serious if he didn’t. Now knowing that he only didn’t want something serious with me…” you drifted off, you now knew your cries weren’t for the boy you simply held an attraction to, but for the insecurity you had felt as he chose someone else. “I just…am I not good enough? I’m always the girl before you know, before you find the one, there’s always that one girl. I’m always saying I’m not ready for a relationship but it’s because no one seeks me for a serious one, it’s always flings, friends, nothing more. I’m never gonna be first choice, always the one people settle for cause they don’t want something permanent or until they find something permanent.”
Feeling tears crawl back into your eyes, you chuckled bitterly. “God I’m pathetic” you said, playing with your fingers to will the tears back in.
“Of course you’re not, you deserve to feel sad about this, deserve to feel these emotions y/n. Look this may not be much coming from me but you’re enough, you’re more than enough, anyone would be lucky to have you” Chan said softly in reply. You shook your head chuckling, “you have to say that, you’re my best friend” you pointed out, arching an eyebrow as you faced him.
You saw his face grow serious at your attempt to brush his compliment off. “I’m serious y/n, remember when you told me I’m the most selfless person you know, I think that’s wrong, cause for me that’s you. You don’t see how amazing you are but I do, the boys do, your friends do, and anyone in their right mind would know how lucky they are to just have the chance to know you. That girl is great, sure, maybe Yeonjun will end up happily with her, but the greatness of a person is not the absence of your own.” he said, not once breaking the stare on your eyes. “And if I’m being honest, I’d choose you over her any day, because after knowing you for 5 years, I know how lucky I am to even have you as a friend” he continued.
His words had rendered you speechless, not knowing the boy in front of you had felt so strongly about your friendship (god you were so far deep indenial). “Thanks Chris” you smiled tearfully at the words, he pulled you impossibly closer, tucking your head back into his shoulder. He spent the day trying to cheer you up, watching movies on his bed, and even showing you some of his tracks he knew you’d been looking forward to hearing.
It’s been a few days since that night, you had made peace with the fact that you were just not the one for Yeonjun, no longer wasting tears on the boy. You saw him approaching you cautiously as you closed your locker, smiling at him in reassurance as you held no grudges, after all you were friends before everything.
“Hey…” he started off, still looking nervous. You replied with a “hi” and a smile of encouragement, trying to emit comfort as you truly held no bad blood against him. “I just…I wanted to say sorry” he continued looking guiltily at the floor, you shook your head in reply earnestly trying to convince him that he had nothing to be sorry for. “No no, I do owe you an apology, I was an ass for leading you on. I know we agreed for nothing serious but I mean I wouldn’t like it if a girl I was talking to suddenly dropped me for another, no matter how casual it was, especially if she were to leave for something serious even after saying she didn’t want it.” He said.
“It’s okay, really.” You chuckled, smiling at him in understanding, “Yeah at first it didn’t feel so good but again nothing serious, you and her seem happy”. He smiled in relief, chuckling at a thought, “can I be honest with you?”. You looked at him quizzically “shoot. We were friends before anything, you can trust me” you said. He took a moment to form his words, taking a deep breath before chuckling again.
“A part of why I never wanted something serious with you wasn’t because you weren’t great, hell your reaction to this whole thing reminded me how amazing you are” he continued to chuckle, shaking his head. “Your understanding, caring, patient, got a heart of gold. Though I knew you were never mine, and never going to be mine.”
Your confusion wasn’t resolved, if anything the furrow on your eyebrows seemed to deepen. “What?” You uttered softly, silently asking for an explanation. “After how many years, you two have still not figured it out huh? Maybe it’s not my place to spell it out for you but if we’re being honest, I’ve always known you were in love with Chan. Even as I started to talk to you, you know romantically, I tried to ignore the fact that I knew, thought maybe over the weeks of getting to know you that maybe I was wrong, maybe everyone was wrong. Hell I really wanted everyone to be wrong at one point” he explained scoffing.
“I was going to tell you that you’d find a guy who makes you feel the way I feel for her but I think deep in your heart, you know you already have. Friends don’t look at each other the way you two do y/n” he ended. You had gone silent, thinking over his words, thinking over the moments you’ve had with Chan, thinking over the feelings you had long buried. He smiled knowingly, silently celebrating the fact that someone’s words have finally gotten to you, and the fact that it was his made him feel victorious. “Think about it, ‘you’ll never know what you have until it’s gone’” he quoted, leaving you to think.
5.
Days of these thoughts turned into weeks, now you lied on Chans bed as he worked on his desk. In his eyes you looked as if you were on your phone scrolling mindlessly, you were on your phone but you weren’t mindless, far from it. The same conversation with Yeonjun were repeating in your head, mixed with conversations with Minho, conversations with Lisa. As the scrolling of your phone was through pictures you had curated over the years of you and Chan, on the several hangouts you’ve had, just the two of you, and you smiled at the endless memories.
You knew you loved him, you knew for weeks now, even knowing your love for him didn’t just span those few weeks but rather a few years.
“Chan…” you called out to him, knowing he heard you as he, as a force of habit, always left one ear open from his headphones. He hummed, quickly pausing his work to turn to you quizzically. You stared at him full of emotions, searched his face as best as you can with the distance between you. He tilted his head as you stayed silent, muttering a nervous “what” accompanied by a giggle which left you looking at him in endearment.
“I love you” you confessed, it wasn’t rare for you to say it, being best friends, but the intention behind your words were now different. You knew he knew it was different. That he knew what you meant. That he knew you finally realized. For a moment he was frozen, all his pent up emotions coming to surface, once it reached, a blinding grin you’ve yet to see until this moment was planted on his face. The dimpled and crescent eyed grin, implanting one of your own on your face. “Finally.” was all he said before making his way quickly to jump on you, collapsing his body on top of you, pulling away to leave kisses all over your face muttering I love you’s after every peck as you giggled at his affection.
“Took you long enough” he teased as he momentarily stopped his eager pecking. You laughed in response, “shut up” you muttered before pulling him into a kiss. You both knew you didn’t need to talk anymore, knew you both were it for each other, knew that starting this moment, there wouldn’t be anyone else. Though it didn’t stop you from uttering one last sentence, “you know this does mean you’re stuck with me right”, wanting a confirmation that this was serious, your past insecurities getting to you. “Please baby, if you weren’t so god damn oblivious you’d have been mine a long time ago. Whether you like it or not, I’ve been stuck with you for a long time” he teased, leaning in to kiss you again.
You no longer felt bad for never being the first choice, because really, for you, every man has always been second to Chris.
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Me projecting my failed friends to lovers arc to all of my stories LOL
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bethsturn · 4 months
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Could you please write or do one of those texting fics where reader is finally done with toxic chris and moves on to someone new that really loves her and he realizes he fucked up and tries to make it up to her?
if my wishes came true
chris sturniolo x fem!oc
texts and writing
warnings: none i can think of:)
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part 2 to these specific texts:))
no way she knows how to actually write, a shock to all x
lowercase intended!
also i’m so sorry but writing y/n stuff is sooo much harder for me idk why and i kinda have like ox’s i use for chris and matt? i hope that’s okay:)
anastasia’s pov:
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i knew deep down that everything was for the better. i was happy now, me and ryland, my new boyfriend. chris wasn’t in the picture anymore, he hasn’t been for about a 4 months now and for the past 2 i have been with ryland, there was no more toxicity. no more other girls. just us.
ryland knew about chris due to an argument that occurred between nathan and i over the old “romance” of me and chris, but nate didn’t know much. when i explained everything to him he had swore to never act in the same disrespectful manner as chris, and i truly have never appreciated anything more.
i really was starting to love him, i thought about it constantly trying not to rush into anything. i knew i wanted it to work and that i wanted it to last but all in all, he wasn’t chris.
i was alone in the house, nathan was with the triplets, staying overnight which i couldn’t necessarily do anymore, regardless as to how much i missed it, how much i missed us all together, how much i missed staying over, how much i missed nick and matt. how much i missed chris. ryland wasn’t chris.
binge watching a new shitty tv show my phone lit up and i chose to ignore it, assuming it was just nate talking shit as usual, until it lit up again.
it wasn’t nate.
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the first time in 4 months. 4 months since the end and he had finally reached out, i wasn’t waiting for it, i was just wondering when it would happen. but i knew i couldn’t reply, or i shouldn’t reply. but ryland wouldn’t mind, he isn’t like that as far as i am aware, but did i even want to speak to him.
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tears flooded my eyes and i knew i shouldn’t have responded the second i did.
chris’ pov:
i left the house as quick as i possibly could, i couldn’t stay there with nathan and my brothers, it was like a piece of her. it’s like she’s dead and i’m haunted by any memory as if it wasn’t my fault in the first place.
i knew i had to make it right i just don’t know how, i knew i loved her i just don’t know how to say it so that she knows i really mean it.
i found myself at her door, just like all those times before. i wasn’t sure how i got here but all the roads just led me here. a bouquet of baby breath flowers in one hand, my other anxiously shaking as i built up the courage to knock.
anastasia’s pov:
as i hear a knock at the door i was quick to wipe my eyes and climb out of my bed, i wasn’t expecting anyone and i knew it wouldn’t be for nate as he would’ve told whoever it was that he wasn’t home.
i open the door without a second thought but im hit with almost instant regret. “ana plea-” i shake my head, it’s all i can do, the tears immediately coming back to my eyes. “no chris, i told you i can’t cope with this and i meant it, this isn’t fair anymore” my hands shook and the tears didn’t even try to hold themselves back. his arm extends and i look down at the flowers in his hand, my favourite ones. “chris i can’t take them, please go home” i was pleading with him at this point, he has been here for all of 2 minutes and i already need him to be gone again.
“don’t cry ana please, i needed to come here, i needed to give you these and i needed to tell you everything” he was stuttering and his hands were shaking as he spoke, i said nothing, just stared waiting for him to continue. “i acted the way i did because i was scared stassie, i was scared you would leave and it sounds awful i know i really do but i was terrified that if i had committed to you then you would up and leave, it’s stupid and it seems like an excuse but you made me nervous ana. you still do. i really love you and i have for as long as i can remember. i loved you before i knew you as my best friends sister, i loved you before i knew you as nicks new bestfriend. i just need you to hear me right now ana.” he takes a breath and looks into my eyes with hope.
genuine writing actually scares me and i kinda hate this and might delete it icl. but i hope this is okay🤍 i really do like writing it’s just people expectations:)
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its-time-to-write · 9 months
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Hi!! I’ve got a request that I’ve been thinking of for a while (but if you don’t vibe with it, that’s cool). I’m imagining something after the S1 Richmond vs Man City game, where Jamie goes to reader for comfort, both because his dad sucks (obviously) but also because like? Jamie’s football hero got badly injured and will probably never play again because he tackled Jamie? I just feel like Jamie would be upset and think Roy’s retirement is partially his fault.
😎
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you don’t want to know me
It’s fucking late. 
It’s fucking late and you’re still awake.
It’s always like this after a Man City game, and it’s been like this since they signed Jamie Tartt. You’ve been friends for ages, always running in the same circles. Your friendship of proximity has now turned into a real friendship, although you hadn’t seen him since he was loaned to Richmond. 
You’d been at the game, because you never missed a match. Man City was your team ever since you moved to Manchester and you have to say, it was weird to see Jamie. You were proud of him for making the extra pass because it was different than how he had been playing, and a brilliant move to rely on his team. The only thing you didn’t like was thinking about why Jamie played selfishly. You just hope James Tartt, Sr. is far, far away from Manchester, from the match, and from Jamie. 
You settle into your bed with the lights dimmed, ready for a long, sleepless night. 
You’ve been staring at the plant on your dresser for so long that it’s starting to look distorted. You sigh and think about Jamie again. A branch taps your window and you groan. Fucking wind.
You roll over and it taps again with more insistence. It sounds like little rocks. 
You remember you don’t have a tree outside your window and you bolt up. You flip off the lights and pull the curtains back to reveal Jamie Tartt throwing stones at the glass like you’re teenagers again. You turn the light back on and give him a one second motion.
You hurry downstairs, turning the light on in the living room as you go, and unlock your front door. Jamie stands in the porch light, so different from the last time you saw him. He says, “Can I come in?” so you move aside.
He’s just standing awkwardly in your kitchen, still in his Man City tracksuit. His hair is slicked down and you have the urge to run your fingers through it to muss it a little. Make him look how he used to.
“D’you- d’you want something to eat?” you ask and he’s a little taken aback. You wonder who’s been taking care of him, if anyone. He gives you a little half nod, and you wordlessly point to the couch. He sits there stiffly as you pull out a plate and some leftovers, and put them in the microwave. You silently hand the plate to Jamie and sit on the couch next to him.
He’s not in a talking mood and neither are you, necessarily, but you’re absolutely sure he hasn’t actually talked to anyone in ages. Georgie has stopped mentioning him so much so you figure he must not be calling her anymore. That’s why you bite the bullet and say, “It was your dad, wasn’t it?”
Jamie nods.
“And seeing Roy Kent injured, too, right?”
He nods again and puts down the fork.
“I mean, he’s a dick and all, and he fucking hates me, but his poster was on my wall. He was my hero. And I fucking- I fucking injured him. It was my fault. He was chasing me down and he tackled, and broke his fuckin’ knee. And then me dad-” Jamie can’t speak for a minute. “He was just there, and he said a bunch of shit and pushed me around. Felt like a kid again.”
It’s funny. This isn’t the first time Jamie’s showed up like this, but it’s the first time in his Premier League career. You wonder why he chose now.
You choose silence, taking the plate from him and setting it on the coffee table. You unzip his jacket and help him shrug it off, then give into the urge to mess up his hair. You move your hands slowly toward his head and he flinches the tiniest bit. His hair is crunchy and he needs a shower, but you think he needs human contact first.
There’s nothing you can say to make this better, so you choose to say something that won’t make it worse. 
“Do you want to spend the night?”
Jamie looks up at you with that same surprised look, breaking your heart a little.
“You have to shower first,” you warn. “I just washed my sheets.”
Jamie nods. 
“C’mon,” you say, standing up with his hand in yours. “I’ll show you where the bathroom is.”
Jamie leaves his jacket on the couch as he follows you. You’d sell your soul for this boy, and you think maybe he knows it. You’ve been in love with him for the longest time and sometimes you could almost convince yourself he felt the same way.
You were really convincing in times like these.
“Alright. Here’s the shower, it should have everything you need. Extra towel’s right behind the door.” 
You turn to leave, but Jamie tightens his grip on your hand.
“Stay,” he pleads. “I’m not tryin’ anything, I just hate showering alone. You can sit on the sink for all I care, I just can’t be fucking alone.”
You won’t refuse him. You nod and he slips behind the shower curtain, throwing his clothes over the top and onto the floor.
He’s not in there long and doesn’t say much, just asks you to throw a towel over.
You go to your room to give him some privacy and sit on the bed until Jamie appears in your doorway. He’s in his Man City track pants and no shirt, damp hair falling in his face. 
You ask, “Do you want the left side?” and Jamie nods, so you move to get under the covers and pat the bed. Jamie slides under the sheets, smelling like lavender. You’d think you would both be stiff and awkward, but you’re not. You’re pulled to each other like magnets, like gravity. That’s why you wrap your arms around each other and thread your legs together. 
“I love you,” Jamie murmurs.
“I know, Jaim,” you whisper.
“No. I mean it. Always meant to say something, but I figured we’d end up together eventually. All the times I showed up at your door, even as kids, I wanted to tell you. I was too fucking scared you didn’t feel the same way, but I don’t give a shit anymore. Life’s short. I need you to know.”
You brush a strand of hair out of his eyes. “You really think I’d let you in my bed if I didn’t love you?”
Jamie snuggles closer to you and you’re going to have a lot of things to talk about. For now, though, you’re going to get some fucking sleep.
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milkycarnations · 1 month
Text
I've been bored and can only write for shit when I want to impress someone. Since y'all are putting out good shit all the time, I think y'all deserve to read good shit while you're busy working on your book. This is your fault for making me realize I have a knife thing via Helen. Enjoy my monarchs: @itsabee @13tinysocks
Here's a link if you want to read on Ao3, otherwise it's under the cut!
Brian x afab!Reader | Whet Your Appetite | 5k words
one-shot masterlist | mdni | cw: consensual as always, knife and bloodplay, gunplay but only briefly mentioned, exhibitionism but just a threat, cunnilingus, fear play, missionary, creampie, begging, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, sexual tension
   Thursday nights forced you into a nasty habit. 
       Perhaps “nasty” was a bit too strong; too harsh. Thursday nights grew into something shameful. Embarrassing. Your spontaneous behavior evolved into a habit you kept to yourself - because if anyone found out you’d simply die. Brian cooked on Thursdays for as long as you can remember, but everything started roughly two weeks ago. Two whole weeks of being far too horny for your own good. 
       That night, you sat across from Brian and watched him intently. From your seat at the kitchen bar, you eyed him as he wielded the knife. That was what killed you. It was a simple chef’s knife with a lengthy steel blade, perfect for sharp, quick slices. Over the couple of weeks that you watched him, it became clear that Brian was skilled. You watched as he diced an onion into perfectly uniform cubes. Now, after washing his hands, he was busy peeling carrots before cutting them into coins. 
       At first, you were only impressed at how fast he moved, slicing each coin precisely without hurting himself. That interest swelled until you became fixated. 
       Shifting your weight on the barstool, you leaned forward as you watched him prep. 
       Why did it feel so wrong to find it attractive - Brian cutting fucking produce? It made no sense in your mind, leaving you heavily embarrassed at how much it turned you on. He cooked again that Saturday. Again, on Monday. You had never given it much attention before, but now every time he pulled out the green plastic cutting board and the knife you were there looking on from the sidelines. Brian certainly noticed the change, but you were sure he had no clue as to why. It wasn’t like you could explain it to him. There was no way you could tell him the way he chopped up that red cabbage last night was sexy. Regardless, he accepted your company and sometimes chose to chat with you while he cooked. 
       After a while of trying to cope and pretending you didn’t like it, you came to a conclusion. It was all in his arms and the way his hand gripped the handle of the knife. It made his forearms flex and his biceps bulge out under his shirt. Once that first week ended, you only got worse. You were down bad and it was horrible. 
       That second Thursday, the four of you got lucky and ended up with some extra cash to spare. These days, it wasn’t often that you found someone with six hundred dollars cash in their wallet. You treated yourselves and Brian wanted quality beef cuts for dinner. He chose a stir-fry. Tim requested cold beers.        
       There, you sat pathetically as Brian cubed the raw meat, a light layer of blood speckling his hands and the knife and pooling onto the cutting board. It was fair to say you had become desensitized over the years - you had both killed people, oftentimes together. However, it had not clicked into your head until now that you enjoyed watching Brian cut into things. The blood was a bonus. You had realized that you’d never witnessed Brian do such a thing before. To be fair, wasn’t his style. Blades were more of a Toby thing. 
       That revelation made you even more confused because it forced you to come to terms with your attraction to Brian. You didn’t feel this way watching Toby do the same. You tested it and nothing came up. 
       On a mission with Toby two days later, you kept your eyes on him like a hawk. Enamored with the scene, he sliced and hacked away at the flesh with those hatchets. Skin and muscle split. Blood spilled and coated everything in vibrant, slippery red. There was nothing. Sure, you were full of adrenaline and the adrenaline always left you a bit tingly for hours after, but you decided that it did not relate to Toby. Sure enough, when Brian cooked that Saturday night - a quick meal hours after - it happened all over again. You could only feel so intensely needy with Brian in front of you and a knife in his hand. 
       From there on, you were obsessed. You ate dinner, scooping the pasta with freshly minced garlic into your mouth, and only thought of him. You took your second shower of the day that night and in the steam-filled bathroom, only thought of him. You lay in your bed, tucked under the covers, and only thought of him as you slipped your hand into your shorts. Holding back from moaning his name, you fingered yourself desperately with a heavy ache in your stomach. 
       It was your most shameful orgasm yet, cumming to a man who was sleeping in the next room over who had no clue about your weird attraction to him. Strangely enough, the whole situation was the first thing in years that made you feel depraved, and you had done some sick shit. You slept well through the night but woke the next morning with an obvious wet spot in your shorts. This time, you couldn’t fall asleep to ignore your racing thoughts. 
       As if a conversation with him weren’t awkward enough, now that you’d masturbated to the thought of him, you could barely stand to look him in the eyes. It was impossible to hide how strange you’d been acting and everyone was catching onto you. Toby gave you way too much space, practically avoiding you at all costs. He recognized how you were avoiding Brian and assumed you needed a break from everything going on in the house, including himself. Tim got way too close, assuming you needed help. Though he never asked outwardly if you were depressed, it became obvious when you found a plate of fruit cut carefully into stars and your favorite snack. Tim looked out for you more than before. 
       Brian knew that the attention was fixed only on himself, even though the others hadn’t noticed. However, he hadn’t quite pinned why. All he gathered was that it was between you and him. That led to today. 
       Exactly two weeks and three days after it all started. You had done the same thing nearly every night in a row, each time growing needier and downright lustful. In the morning, you showered in an attempt to wash off the thoughts from the previous night, which did nothing to help. The afternoon was quaint: nobody had plans, which made for a relaxing Sunday evening. You were lying in your room, the door cracked open, daydreaming about nothing in particular and enjoying the rare silence. 
       A knock rapped on your door. 
       “Come in!” you called as you sat up on the mattress. 
       Brian pushed the door in and shut it closed behind him. You hadn’t expected to see him, instead anticipating Tim to come in with a tray of snacks again. It didn’t take long for you to grow nervous. Brian walked up to the bed, his socked feet pattering softly against the hardwood floors. He paused right in front of the bed. 
       “Can I sit?” he asked, his hands hidden in the pockets of his sweatpants. 
       “Sure,” you managed to choke the words out and shifted to hang your legs off the side of the bed. Brian sat down beside you. 
       “Did I do something to upset you?” 
       Brian’s words hurt. It was obvious that he’d assume he did something wrong - you were avoiding him like the plague. Though, it was far from the truth and it wasn’t fair for him to believe it. Still, you couldn’t get yourself to tell him everything. 
       “No. You’re okay,” you spoke. 
       Brian shuffled for a moment beside you, “Then what’d I do? Tim said you’re acting fine around him and Toby hasn’t brought anything up. So I know it’s just me,” 
       You sighed. Was there a point in bringing up silly little lies to save your ass? You valued your relationship with Brian far too much to hurt his feelings over a crush, but you felt like a schoolgirl admitting it. Brian sat in silence with you the entire time, waiting patiently for you to respond. He was never a nervous person at all, but you could see him grow almost desperate as you thought of what to say. The right words never found you, so you spoke with little filter. Brian sat up a little bit straighter as you started. 
       “I think I’m attracted to you, Brian.” 
       The words fell foreign off your tongue. Brian didn’t respond. He hardly moved, but you gathered the courage to look him in the eyes. A wide smile spread across his face. Your face flushed with heat until your cheeks turned blistering hot. Brian either didn’t notice or refused to comment on it. 
       “You think?” he asked. 
       The tension broke once he talked. You breathed out a chuckle and let the anxiety shed away. 
       “Yes, I think,”
       No hesitation. 
       “Do you want me to help you find out?” 
       You wanted to scream. You wanted to squirm in your seat and kick your feet in the air, but you tried to play it off. Though you were mentally losing it, you simply smiled and looked away. 
       “I think I would like that,” you admitted. 
       Brian’s hand came out to touch you lightly on the knee, pulling your attention back to him. You looked his way to catch the hungry gaze in his eyes. Heart thumping in your chest, you glanced down at the way his hand flexed around you. It brought you back to the kitchen with that dumb knife in his hand. Between your legs, you grew more excited and could tell you were becoming wet. It made you ache - he hadn’t even touched you there yet and you wanted him. 
       “Is that why you’ve been watching me cook all of a sudden?” Brian smirked and gently squeezed. 
       It wasn’t why, but he didn’t need to know that. 
       “Sure,” you muttered, trying to subtly rub your legs together. 
       “That’s cute. I felt like you were a bit too interested. But I thought, hey, maybe you were bored.” 
       “You’re a good cook,” you complimented him back, trying to ignore what he said. You were too interested in what he did, but he didn’t have to know why. 
       “I’m curious, then. When did it happen?” he asked you, smirking. 
       You tried not to panic. You didn’t want him to find out the real reason why, maybe sometime in the future, but not now. 
       “I don’t know exactly when,” you lied. It was odd lying to Brian. He was an excellent liar and that set you on edge. It was obvious you weren’t telling the truth and it was evident he caught you in the way his eyebrows lifted as he smiled. 
       “You’re not so sure of yourself, you know.” 
       Quieting, you paused next to him as his hand trailed slightly higher. It made your stomach tighten. 
       “I wanna know what you were thinking when you were looking at me like that. Be honest.” 
       Brian’s words poured like honey. When you managed to meet his eyes, they stared deep into yours. He was an intimidating, coercive man and it was strange being on the other side of it. You froze in his touch, but he waited for you to speak. Outside the room, the sound of Tim starting dinner could be heard: pots and pans were moved and water was running in the sink. 
       “I was impressed,” you admitted. Brian pried further. 
       “Impressed with what? ‘Cuz it wasn’t the food. I saw you at the dinner table with your head in the clouds. Should’ve known something was up. What were you thinking about?” he repeated. 
       The pressure he pushed onto you was intense. You could only imagine what it was like to be on Brian’s bad side - a victim being threatened by him. 
       “I was thinking about the knife,” you finally came clean. This piqued Brian’s interest and his stare grew into something different. His hand now rested on your upper thigh and his body moved to face towards you. 
       “Keep going. Help me find out what this knife has to do with me.” 
       “I liked the way you held it.” 
       Brian chuckled at your response. Though he had caught on, he played along and continued to pry. It was clear he wanted you to say it out loud. 
       “What’s so special about me holding a knife?” 
       You were sure it was the thing with his arms and hands; the way he looked so powerful with it, but that was hard to explain without monologuing the past 2 weeks. You thought carefully about what to say and how to make sense to him. 
       “I guess the way you did it was just attractive to me,” 
       Brian took a big breath in. He had a way about him that was good at appearing disinterested, but the way he gripped onto your thigh was a major tell. He was into this as much as you were. He wanted it as much as you did. You thought about how much frustration you could’ve saved yourself from if you were ballsy enough to tell him earlier. 
       “You’re very special, you know that?” Brian’s face seemed to fluster pink down his neck. 
       Embarrassed with how he spoke to you, you shouted out, “What’s that supposed to mean?” 
       “It means, you’re into dangerous men. Especially dangerous men holding weapons, and you didn’t even notice. How long have you gone along feeling this way? If I knew you’d be ogling at me, I’d have teased you a bit more on our last mission.” 
       “Only recently,” you told him, “But the guns they don’t really do it for me.” 
       Brian looked down at you. It made you wish he were easier to read. 
       “How interesting. Perhaps it’s cause you want something a little more hands-on. Everyone knows that guns are cheating. Too impersonal, huh?” you silently nodded along, “But I like that. The fear of a gun doesn’t do it for you, you need the threat of a knife. Delicate when you want, but just as deadly when you let it touch the right places.” 
       Something thumped in your ears, the sound of your heartbeat, and the blood rushing to your head. You could feel your slick pooling in your panties and your legs slightly parted. Sweat dripped down your back, making you shiver harder as his hand traveled to your hip. 
       “But it’s my turn to be honest. I want to fuck you. So tell me, you okay getting a bit more personal?” 
       “Yes, please. Keep going,” you were shaking and your words came out as whispers. 
       Outside of the room, you heard Toby join the chatter and turn on the television. Though you thought Brian would shove you over and take you right there, he remained beside you and reached into the pocket of his jeans. As he pulled out his hand, you noticed the small pocket knife. He held it out in front of you and pressed a small button. The knife folded open with a click. It wasn’t anything fancy and it was a far cry from the eight-inch chef’s knife in the kitchen. It was black (including the two-inch blade) and it was clean - but it wasn’t like you could die of tetanus regardless. 
       “And do you mind if I use this?” Brian whispered to you, now closer than before. His breath was hot and it only made you more antsy underneath him. You had no idea he kept the knife on him, but it made sense. It looked more for utility than stabbing anyway.
       You shook your head. 
       “Tell me,” Brian urged you. 
       “No, I don’t mind,” 
       As Brian pulled the knife closer for you to look at it, you realized you’d never felt so dizzy beside him before. You were now throbbing as you waited, desperate enough to skip foreplay entirely. 
       “You like it?” he asked. 
       “It looks sharp,” it was true. The pocket knife had a more serrated edge than the chef’s knife, which came to a whetted edge across the entirety of the blade. The tiny black knife looked like it could saw into things. 
       Brian nodded in agreement, “You wanna see how sharp it is?” he said, running his thumb perpendicular across the blade. It made a chime as the metal ran across his thumbpad. 
       “Okay,” your face burned. 
       “Lay down,” he ordered you. You turned and swung your legs back onto the mattress and laid back to rest your head against the pillow. Stiff, you lay there with your legs pushed together and your hands resting on your stomach. Brian crawled over to you, the bed squeaking slightly under his weight. Breathing heavily, he sat above your legs and straddled you. At that moment, you felt like prey beneath him, but you knew he wouldn’t do anything you didn’t ask for. 
       A finger hooked your belt loop. 
       “You like this pair?” he asked you. 
       Confused, you looked down. Your shorts? They were stolen, but they were nice and fit you perfectly. 
       “They’re my favorite,” 
       With the knife still in his right hand, he unbuttoned your shorts and tugged them down. You helped him pull them past your ass and kick them out from your legs. Truthfully, you were still sheepish about being in your underwear in front of him. His fingers traced up your leg and danced along the waistband of your panties. 
       “What about this one?” he questioned. 
       “They’re old-” before you could finish your sentence, Brian eased the knife between your right thigh and the fabric of the panties. He swiftly pulled up and sliced the fabric. Tugging down the ripped cloth, he did the same to the other side, this time sliding in the knife from the top of the garment and slicing laterally just above your hip bone. He pulled the shreds of fabric off of you and tossed the destroyed pair onto the floor. 
       Closing your legs, you squirmed underneath him. The knife was held in his hands in a white-knuckled grip and it made the veins in his forearm pop. Your gaze drifted to the very obvious bulge in his pants. 
       “You like a little more than just me holding a knife, don’t you?” 
       As he asked, he fiddled with the hem of your shirt. Could you deny it? Both of you knew you had some kind of complex. 
       “I think so,” you answered. 
       Brian lifted your shirt to run the blade of the knife across your stomach. With a knife, Brian was capable of many things. 
       “You like the fear, too. You must, ‘cuz me and you both know how easy it’d be for me to gut you right now. I could get excited and slip. Then it’d all be over until you wake up again a few hours later.” 
       Moaning out, you felt yourself drip beneath him. That, you didn’t quite ping about yourself. Of course, you’d imagined Brian hurting other people with the knife, but never yourself. You were putting every ounce of trust you had into him. It strangely felt liberating, knowing you could tell him to stop or tell him to go further and he’d do it all for you. 
       “Don’t you agree?” he called out your name. Maybe he was onto something. 
       “Does it make you feel that way, too? Scared that you might lose control? Does it make you burn inside?” you turned the question back onto him and watched as he genuinely thought about it for a few moments. 
       “I’m a sadist. The thought of hurting you only makes me excited, but the thought of breaking your trust is something different. I’ll go as far as you want, but that means you have to say something if it’s too much.” 
       It could not get more perfect than that. You smiled as Brian pulled your shirt off, tossing it to the floor, and unclasped your bra before slipping it off. Instantly, your nipples hardened after being exposed to the cold bedroom. You felt vulnerable under Brian, still in his jeans and tee shirt. He continued to trace the blade across your chest with care, the chilly flat of the metal gliding over your nipples. Huffing out you clenched your hands into the bedspread. 
       “What about blood? Everyone in this damn house had a blood kink, but how do you feel about your own. Want me to see it?” 
       Trembling under his words, you nodded again before remembering to answer him properly. 
       “I like that. You can cut me a little.” 
       Brian smiled at this, but simply kept tracing the blade gently. He did so for what felt like many minutes before he shifted the pressure to the tip of the blade. It dug into your skin, but simply poked at you, not drawing any blood. You whined at the sensation as he moved the blade to your stomach, right beneath your breasts. Suddenly, you gasped as he sliced the blade in a small cut. It was swift and he was done before you noticed it had happened. The two of you watched as the blood trickled out. It was light, close to a scratch. You knew he was going easy on you, in case you changed your mind. 
       A heavy sigh rang out from above you. He enjoyed watching you like this, his cock pressing hard against your leg through his jeans. You doubted it was comfortable. This time, he grunted as he cut your flesh again. 
       “Why don’t you take your pants off?” you asked him. 
       “I want to fuck you but I don’t want to do it yet. The foreplay just started. Isn’t this what you’ve been waiting for?” he explained himself. 
       “Yes it is, but we can do it again - and I’m already wet enough I just need you now. Please.” 
       Your pleading came out meek and pathetic. You were sure you looked pitiful, but Brian seemed more pleased by your begging than he was before you’d started. 
       “Don’t worry your head over it. I’ll help you manage… but maybe if you beg a bit more I’ll change my mind.” his voice came soft and sweet but his words were far from it. Left hand pulling down, he reached to play with your clit. Moaning out again, you sounded like a wounded animal as he cut you while he rubbed, this time harder than the last. The slice left a stream of blood that trailed across your waist and met the bedspread. 
       “This help?” the circular motions of his thumb on your clit were skilled as if you’d taught him exactly how to do it. As perfect as it was, you wanted so much more. “Does it hurt?” he asked when you didn’t respond. 
       “It’s good,” you mumbled. It was hard to focus on anything but his thumb as he moved from circles to upward stroked, but the knife forced you back each time. His thumb stroked up, and your body bucked, shaking as you waited for him to do it again. Up again, and this time a small nick to the side of your left breast. The whine you let out was strangled and he stopped, leaning in close to you. 
       “You want everyone to hear you? ‘Cuz if so, I’ll open the door and invite them in. If not, you should be a bit quieter.” 
     When you whimpered this time, you pressed your lips tight together. You weren’t sure if Brian was serious about it - could that be his dark secret? Instead of playing into it, you shook it off. You’d bug him about it later. Right now, you were too focused on the way he kept snapping his thumb up and the way the knife returned - this time to your thigh. Shifting his weight, Brian moved down your body, his face close to your pussy. He was staring at it intently as he trailed the knife across your thigh and moved it inward. 
       Breath hitching, you tried not to twitch under his grasp. Yes, toying with the knife along your chest was dangerous, but there were femoral arteries in your thigh and not as much protection. Arteries spray - you’d make a mess on the bed and Tim would certainly get involved when he would inevitably find out you needed stitches from being alone with Brian. That would open a completely new doorway. It forced you back to what Brian said. You didn’t want anyone to know yet, so you sat still as he held the knife tight against your skin. 
       Instead of snapping up, this time Brian snapped his thumb down, trailing it across your entrance. 
       “You didn’t lie about being wet. You’re everywhere.”
       Holding the knife against your left leg, he played with the slick between his fingers before leaning in, propping your other leg up with his free hand. Teasingly, he took an experimental lick and laughed as your body tensed, but no noise came out. 
       “Just because we have to be quiet doesn’t mean you have to hide from me,” he said before sucking at your clit. 
       “I know,” you breathed out, “but I’m scared I’ll fucking lose it.” 
       Humming against you, he started to eat you out. You were near tears. It was hard not to cry out for him like a slut at this point, so you slapped your arm around your face and muffled your sounds. Brian knew just as well as you, so you also struggled not to shake too hard as he held the knife against your inner thigh. How could he know what you were thinking? How did he know that spot was what you worried about? 
       He sucked and lapped passionately like a dog, the sounds filling the room. He started moaning into you, each time louder than the last. You panicked. Though you were trying so hard, he was the one who was going to get you caught and he was doing it on purpose. As he moaned again, you pushed your entire body further into the bed and shot your other hand out to shove his face into your cunt. With the sounds he was making, it would be obvious that you were fucking, but he was fucking with you, so he moaned louder.
       The vibrations from his mouth made you cry out, the noise muffled by the crook of your arm. Hard, you gripped Brian’s hair and pulled on it. This time, he groaned out, but it felt less purposeful and more accidental. Once more, you tried not to buck your hips into him. 
       “Okay, really. Stop teasing.” you begged him, but he made no effort to move, “Please, I need you inside me I can’t take it anymore!” 
       Once the harsh whispers fell off your lips, Brian dropped your right leg onto the mattress and you let go of his hair. At first, you were confused that he still hadn’t pulled away, until he pushed two fingers into you at once. Arching your head back, you gasped. You could easily take one, but both were enough to stretch you a little bit. This far in, you were so wet and needy he could slip in without fingering you. Still, he began to work his fingers in and out. 
       “That’s not what I mean and you know it. Dammit!” 
       A tongue flicked across your clit. 
       “Just making sure you’re ready…” 
       “Fuck!” you choked out as the pressure built. The pace was quick and steady; you knew it wouldn’t take long. You were panting now and you took both hands to grab his face. Looking him in the eyes you begged again. 
       “Please, I want you to fuck me! I don’t want to beg for it anymore, I want your cock inside of me.” 
       Each word came out between gasps. Your entire body felt like a spring coil ready to burst back into place. Brian pulled his fingers out of you and tore the knife away, tossing it beside you. His shirt came off first, followed by his pants - which he barely managed to pull off. Once his boxers were out of the way, his cock sprung up. In the light of the bedroom, you could see the gleam of precum leaking from his tip. Grabbing onto your hips, he yanked you towards him. Without being asked, you bent your knees and held your legs in the air. 
       Pushing his body in between your thighs, he picked up the knife beside you and flashed it, placing it against your neck just as fast. He didn’t give you time to think about it before he pushed his dick into you. Leaning your head back, you whined; it was much better than two fingers. He set a harsh pace, fucking deep into you as he held the blade to your neck. His other hand grabbed your shoulder and pushed you into the mattress. 
       You were dizzy all over again. Fear. Your cunt clenched around him and he groaned, hardly able to keep his eyes open, but boy he loved the sight of you. 
       “Fuck!” you cried as your orgasm crashed around you. Though you felt it building, the release was sudden. With no warning, your pussy fluttered around him uncontrollably. 
       “Oh shit,” he breathed out panicked, and tossed the knife off the bed, away from your neck. It clattered on the ground and slid across the floor, hitting your desk chair with a ping . Gripping onto you tighter, he set a ruthless pace as he rode out his orgasm, pumping his cum into you. 
       With the two of you spent Brian collapsed onto you like a human-weighted blanket. Sighing, you closed your eyes. There was no way they hadn’t heard you, but for now, you would ignore it. Brian hadn’t caught his breath, but he was cocky, “So, did you figure it out?” 
       Smiling, you laughed, “Yeah and we’re gonna do that again.” 
       Arms wrapped around you and you sunk further. 
       “I still think you look hot with a knife in your hands.” 
       “I’m glad. Next time, you can help me figure something else out, huh?”
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