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seriouslysnape · 4 years ago

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To the Limit

Severus Snape x Fem. Reader

Warnings: Slight smut. Use of safeword. Language.

Request: Hi! Can u make Severus × Reader when the reader use the safe words for the first time because idk maybe it's too much for the reader that day or smth else you like..Thankyouu 💕💕 love ur writings btw ❤❤

A/N: Here we gooooooo. Reminder, everything is consensual.

Word Count: 2,947

“Okay, darling. Whatever you want.”

Severus has always been flexible in the bedroom. Yes, Severus Snape is versatile in the sheets and has more love making skills than you originally would’ve given him credit for. Sex with Severus can range anywhere from slow and careful where praising your body is his main objective, to fucking you so mercilessly that stars are dotting the back of your eyelids with each hard thrust.

Sometimes, you don’t have to establish what kind of theme your sessions will take on. If Severus comes home angry from a long, obnoxious day then you very well know that a rough fucking will get it out of his system. When you’ve just watched one of your favorite romantic drama Muggle movies that have sent you into tears, he knows that something more unhurried is in order so you are reminded of how much he loves you.

Other times though, there isn’t really anything that determines the kind of sex you’ll be having. If the mood is right for both of you, then you often will just figure it out from there.

Severus’ return on Friday night from a long week of classes was coated with his desire for you. You could practically feel the hard sexual tension radiating off of his whole being. From the moment he walked in the door, you knew what tonight would hold for the both of you. More than likely, it’d be a whole lot of rutted fucking and orgasms until neither of you had any stamina left to give. Normally, a seed of excitement would be planted and begin to grow in your core at the thought of being touched by him, but you didn’t feel it this time.

It had been a bad week to put it simply. Work was weighing you down and you had taken more hits than you were used to in a five day time period. Exhaustion had riddled you, and stress has gotten the best of you. Emotional breakdown was the only way you could describe how you were feeling. You really weren’t feeling up to what Severus wanted to do. However, you couldn’t bring yourself to deny him when his hands and lips were on you, moving to all his favorite places on you.

His voice was silky smooth in your ears as he uplifted you with how he had been thinking about you all day, and how he wanted to be with you when you weren’t around. It wasn’t Severus’ fault that you had a bad week, and it surely wasn’t all his fault that he was this turned on. The way he gripped your legs with his strong hands was an indicator that he wanted to go well into the night, which your tired state wasn’t a fan of. But you loved Severus, and you always wanted him to be happy and well pleased. So you figured you could handle a couple of coarse rounds to satisfy him.

Oh, how wrong you were.

Once access was granted, Severus leapt onto you without hesitation. A tornado of clothes being removed whirled around the room, your shirt and pants ended up on complete opposite sides of the room. Hot and unruly kisses were shared, marks were left on your necks, and no part of you went unattended.

Admittedly, the first orgasm was actually enjoyable. Severus’ fingers were knuckle deep in your needy cunt and pumping vigorously as he found all the best spots. The strenuous activity melted some of the week’s stress from your conscience, your mind being stripped of all your worry as it clouded with ecstasy. Severus thrived off of the moans and noises of delight that he was drawing out of your throat, perfecting his movements to give you an even stronger release. Severus worked you to your finish as you came around his fingers, slicking them with arousal and relief.

He left lazy kisses over your breasts while you took a moment to recover, preparing yourself for the next round that was undoubtedly on its way. Tiredness had plagued you long before Severus had even walked through the door, and you had suddenly been robbed of even more energy, so you were confident that you might not get a proper orgasm this second time. But the moment Severus slid you onto his dick and stretched your walls the way only he knew how to, you knew that you were going to cum whether you felt like you could handle it or not.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to. You loved seeing Severus so enraptured in waves of pleasure and gratification, but you were beyond fatigued. Still, you bounced up and down on his lap over and over again, your already sensitive clit throbbing with each rub of his fingers. Severus’ other hand guided your hip movements to meet the way he thrusted up into you, hitting your g-spot just right.

When you came this time, your sound of release was more of a strained cry than a content sound. Severus didn’t seem to notice, since he was too focused on the intoxicating feeling of filling you with his own finish. You popped off of him before he was even emptied out, the rest of his fluids landing on your inner thighs. You fell onto the bed next to him, your breathing much heavier than usual.

You were totally tuckered out with absolutely no hope of another round. Your muscles ached and your bones were wiped out. Although, you felt a queasy feeling of despair when you saw that familiar look of lust in Severus’ eyes. He spoke lowly, his voice echoing in your ringing ears.

“I’m not through with you yet, love.” He purred.

Usually that would’ve sent a whole mess of arousal through you, but you were too worn out. But Severus usually didn’t last more than three rounds, so this would for sure be the last one. You thought you could push through so he could at least get his release, but this third go round wasn’t a good feeling for you at all.

With your arms above your head and the pillowcase below your head in your fingers’ death grip, you turned your head to the side to fight through his persistent hard fucking into you. On a better day, you’d be all over this and relishing every moment. But now your eyes were screwed tightly shut in discomfort, for each time you opened them Severus would only be able to see the whites of your eyes. The thumping heartbeat in your ears was deafening and your entire body was stiff and rigid, but not in a good way. You wanted to tough it out so at least Severus could finish, but it was just too much for you tonight.

You had to tap out.

“Polyjuice!” You squeaked out, your voice raspy.

In an instant, you saw any expression of lust wiped straight from his face. He pulled out the millisecond that the word registered in his head, his face stricken with worry and concern at the first time use of your agreed safe word. Severus’ heart dropped at your whimpers of displeasure, his brain reeling and raking over what had gone wrong.

“[Y/N], what’s wrong? What happened?” He asked frantically.

“I-I just...”

Shaky breaths and uncomfortable whines were the only noises you could seem to make. You sat up from where you were laying down, bringing your knees to your chest and hiding your face as you began to cry. Your emotions were all over the place, and it didn’t help that you were overstimulated and overworked. Severus went to pull you to him, but withdrew his hand. Upsetting you further would absolutely crush him, but he needed to know that you were okay.

“Can I touch you, darling?” He whispered out.

The yowl of approval was enough for him to feel fine with carefully wrapping his hand under your arm and dragging you across the mattress to where he was kneeling on the middle of the bed. He pulled the covers over your skin to keep you from getting cold from the loss of heat from being active. You buried your head into his bare chest, your tears leaking and falling down his skin.

“I’m sorry, Sev. I’m really sorry.” You sobbed, your hair sticking to your sweaty skin.

“No, no, no. Don’t ever be sorry for telling me to stop when you’re not comfortable,” He reassured; “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

The shake of your head brought relief upon him, but he was still worried. He rocked you in his arms until your sobs died down enough to where you were coherent. Severus was getting ready to ask you once more what was wrong, shifting you so he could see your face. When moving you, his hand accidentally brushed against your swollen, sensitive clit and you wailed out pathetically. Severus’ pale face went even whiter.

“Oh, my love...I worked you too hard, didn’t I?” He queried.

Severus would always admit that sometimes he’d get into the zone and completely drown everything else out. He wouldn’t really be able to tell how hard he was pulling in and out. It was rare, but from time to time you’d have to ask him to soften his thrusts or slow his pace when he got too rowdy. But you had never asked him to stop completely until now. He feared that he had seriously pushed you over the edge this time.

“It’s not just that.” You confessed with a sniff.

Severus had drawn your head back to gaze into your bleary eyes. The tear tracks being swiped away with his thumbs as he cradled your face.

“What is it then, sweetheart?” He asked with wonder.

A fresh set of salty tears pooled and fell down your cheeks, but for a different reason.

“I’ve had a horrible week. Nothing has gone right,” You explained croakily; “I wanted to make you feel good and I thought it might make me feel better...but I’m just exhausted and I couldn’t handle it tonight.”

You fell apart into another set of choking sobs and gut wrenching cries, prompting Severus to bring you back into his chest. He stroked your skin and left kisses so light that they were ghostly.

“It’s alright, angel. I wish you had told me before that you weren’t feeling up to it,” He consoled; “You’re worth so much more than sex. I want you to tell me sooner next time if you’re uncomfortable.”

Your nod of understanding offered a wash of comfort over him that you were calming down steadily. He hated that this happened. He knew that was the whole reason for your established safe word for when things went south or things got dicey. He just never thought you’d ever have to use it. He felt absolutely terrible.

“I’m sorry, Sevvy. I really wanted you to get off, I just-”

“Please don’t apologize for this. This is my fault. I should’ve seen how tired you were and how I was being overly hard,” He said; “I’m the one that should be sorry.”

The sniffles from your nose had increased as you tried to flush down all the drainage from your crying. Your tears had stopped as you sat up from his body, wiping at your cheeks with the back of your hand. The red blotches in your puffy eyes were pinging at Severus’ already guilty conscience. He saw the littered hickeys across your neck and breasts, and how your lips were swollen from his severe kisses. He had rocked your burnt out body to the max.

“I’ll tell you what. How about we go get cleaned up, and then we can get into bed. Then you can tell me about your week if so wish.” He suggested, cautiously guiding you off of the bed.

“I think I just want to get a bath and get some sleep.” You said, barely able to stand on your wobbly legs.

“Okay, darling. Whatever you want.” He smiled softly, hoping it’d offer you some kind of solace.

Severus ran you a hot bath, filling it with all of your favorite scents and smells. Your stance was still despite your shaking legs, and you seemed to be staring off into an endless trance. You slipped into the tub when it was ready, sinking down just below your nose under the bubbles. Normally, Severus would be sitting across from you or you’d be snuggled up on his lap, but he wanted you to have some space for a bit. You were honestly too tired to object.

He simply casted a charm to freshen himself up, finding and selecting his favorite pair of sweatpants and soft shirt for you to change into. Your eyes were closed, and you had just begun to drift off to sleep when he re-entered the bathroom, changed into some casual day time wear, despite how late it was.

“Here are some clean clothes for you, pretty girl.” He remarked, setting the folded sweats and shirt on the end of the tub for you to get when you got out.

You only gave a light nod as a response, your eyes following him as he stood awkwardly. He was unsure of what to do for you now. He thought that you might want the bedroom to yourself for the night, which was fine because he wouldn’t be able to sleep knowing he had pushed you so hard anyway. He placed himself on the floor by the tub, sitting with his legs criss crossed over one another. It was quiet in the room, the only sounds were the occasional gentle splash when you moved your leg or arm. His eyes were still full of worry, and he was kicking himself big time now.

“I’m so sorry...” He breathed out, running his fingertips dragging leisurely your damp arm that you had resting on the ledge of the bathtub; “I never meant to hurt you.”

“You didn’t hurt me, Sev. I promise.” You responded, wishing he wouldn’t take this so hard.

When it came to you, Severus took everything to heart. There weren’t many things in the world that made his heart beat with a purpose. You were the single person that allowed him to want to get up in the mornings. The thought of hurting you was enough to break him down. If he could have it his way, you would be indescribably happy with every passing moment of every day. He never wanted you to feel anything other than joy.

But he knew that life would never allow it.

Your eyebrows dipped when you noticed his attire, wondering why he wasn’t in his own sleepwear. It was much too late for him to go anywhere.

“Where are you going?” You questioned, your voice thick with weary.

“I’m going to go back to the school. I have some grading to do.” He half-lied.

It was true that he did indeed have a stack of papers to be assessed, but that wasn’t the real reason why he felt like he wanted to leave. Severus Snape grading on a Friday night when he had the opportunity to be cuddled up with his lover? He’d choose you every time.

Now you felt bad for causing him to scurry off. You wanted him there with you regardless of what had happened.

“Severus,” You called out tenderly, reaching for his face; “I don’t want you to leave.”

A genuine look of doubt flashed over his features as his head lulled into your hand.

“I think it would be best if you got some good sleep tonight. I’ll just be in my office so if-”

“Stay with me. Please?” You requested, the thought of sleeping without him was disheartening.

A sigh of awe expelled from his chest. He couldn’t say no to your puppy eyes and slightly pouting lower lip.

“Okay, okay.” He agreed.

“I think that some boyfriend snuggles will make me feel a whole lot better.” You spoke rather cheekily.

He hummed affirmatively. The sound of nestling up with you was impossible to turn down. He took your hand from his face and kissed your palm gingerly, holding the warm skin to his lips for a brief moment. He eventually stood from the floor, but stopped when you held your arms up.

“Help me up?” You asked with the first genuine smile of the evening.

He chuckled, obliging and lifting you effortlessly from the tub. The warm towel was heavenly as you dried off, changing into the clothes that Severus had left for you. Severus went and changed as well, laughing to himself when he exited the closet to see you already curled up.

The sheets draped over him easily when he laid next to you, waiting for you to nuzzle up to him. He held you close and flush to him, thanking his lucky stars that you were okay.

“My sweet girl...” He hushed out, noting that you were just seconds away from falling asleep; “I love you.”

You mumbled out a sleepy “I love you” in return before drifting into a deep slumber to snooze off the night’s drama. Severus, as expected, didn’t sleep much that night to ensure that you were sleeping soundly and comfortably. He still felt dreadful, even after you had told him over and over that he didn’t hurt you. The weekend to follow was filled with Severus doting and cherishing over you every chance that he had, trying to make up for what had happened. You were the light of his life after all.

And he prayed that he’d never see that flame go out.

#severus snape #severus snape x reader #severus #severus snape x you #severus snape x y/n #severus snape x female reader #severus snape smut #harry potter #harry potter snape #harry potter fanfiction #alan rickman #seriouslysnape #anon request

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sirthisisa-wendys · 4 years ago

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Rules: Geto Suguru x Fem!Reader

synopsis: You two have one rule when it comes to your hookups: don't fall in love. So what happens when one of you breaks that rule? (based on a anon request that Tumblr ATE UP)

wc: 1.8k

tw: NSFW

masterlist

You're riding him as fast as you can, hands cupping your breasts and tweaking your nipples.

"God, this feels so damn good," Suguru hisses beneath you, eyes holding yours captive. His hand moves away from your left breast, sliding down your stomach and resting on your clit.

"Mmm... Su..." you breathe, your hands pressed on either side of him as your hips slam into his. "That's perfect."

Panting, sweating messes. That's what you're both reduced to every Friday evening when he comes through your door and fucks you until you can't walk. And he leaves before sun-up, just as you ask, placing the spare key beneath the mat at the door after he locks up behind himself.

"You gonna cum soon?" Suguru wonders, but not because he wants to rush you. No, you look down in those onyx eyes and see his desire to withhold himself from cumming for just a little bit longer. He wants to feel your walls rock against his length for as long as he can before giving himself up to you. Suguru loves it when you spasm around his cock - and loves it when you squirt even more - but every single time, he cums right after you. It's not because he's weak; no, that's never been the case.

Your pleasure means so much to him. And when he delivers you the best, toe-curling orgasm of the week, you can't help but let yourself indulge in the sensations and ride it out as well.

But the first caveat to your little arrangement was Rule #1: that neither of you could fall in love. The moment one of you catches feelings, it's over. And you were starting to see that it could very well be Suguru that catches feelings, just like all of the ones who came before him.

The only difference between them and this black-haired devil beneath you was that he'd not only lasted a full six months, but he was the only one that could truly satisfy you. You never felt like Suguru used you as a fuck toy or masturbated into your body just for the feeling of a warm cunt surrounding his twitching cock. Your pleasure meant something to him, even if he left before daylight.

Those are your rules, however.

Soft lips bring you back to the present, and a gentle scrape of the teeth against the flesh of your breast makes you moan loudly.

"Suguru, I--"

"Hush, y/n," he mutters, tongue darting out to flick your nipple. "I'm not done with you yet."

Rule #2: no pet names. And he'd stuck to it, only calling you by your name as he fucked you into the couch, or moaned your name as you came around his length.

"Fuck..." you breathe as he sucks on your breasts over and over again, switching between the two at his leisure. And still, he's bouncing you on his dick, making you shudder.

Rule #3: Condoms. Every. Single. Time. And Suguru never came empty-handed.

You'd gotten rid of men the first time they came over without a condom and blamed it on their brain, even though you kept a stash hidden in the bottom cabinet of the bathroom. Those were reserved for hookups with men who weren't on your schedule or for when you used your strap-on; not for "forgetful" people.

"Oh, shit," you breathe. "I think I'm going to cum..." Suguru nods, pressing you against his chest and speeding up his strokes.

God damn, he's intuitive, you think as he brings you to the edge and tips you over like only he can. When you shudder and whimper in his ear, Suguru grunts softly, hips stuttering as he cums right behind you. It's always been like this, you muse, kissing the man deeply and with feeling. It's never going to change.

_____________________________________________________________

Change comes when you first step into the high-end department store, and you spot a silk gold and black tie hanging on a display.

"Suguru would like that," you think aloud, imaging him tying it on just like he takes them off before wrapping them around your h-- You smack your cheek, waking yourself up from the semi-lewd fantasy. You forget all about the occurrence until you pass by the cologne department, and catch a whiff of a familiar scent.

"Miss," you ask, stopping in front of an associate. "What's that scent?" When the lady rattles off some famous cologne brand, you inhale the fresh scent again, suddenly transported to the time you buried your face in Suguru's neck and smelled his hair for the first time. "Thank you," you quickly mutter, and walk away from the counter as fast as you can. Your hands begin to shake as you place the shoes you just bought on, looking at them in the store mirror right as the words 'maybe I should ask Suguru how they look' rolls through your mind.

Your assigned stylist gives you a frightened glance as you growl and take the shoes off, stuffing them back into the box in her hands as you hiss, "I'll take them."

What the hell is happening to me? you wonder as you drive home impatiently, honking at every person who minorly inconveniences you as you speed down the highway. It's not even Friday, but thrice you've thought about asking Suguru to come over and spend time with you. Three times!

You drop your keys onto the counter and sit on your couch, burying your hands in your face as you think, think, think...

Cancel with Ryoma. Cancel with Aizen. Cancel, cancel, cancel...

You shoot off various text messages in a short amount of time, cutting the other five men out of the schedule. You can find others to fit into Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Saturday, and Sunday if you need to. You just need it to be Friday and fast.

"Hello?" the soft voice murmurs when you dial - picked up on the second ring.

"Hey," you whisper nervously. "Um, Monday canceled and I'm feeling a little stressed. Are you free tonight?" Some papers shift around in the background, and you bite your lip as you wait for an answer. It seems like forever until you hear:

"Yeah, let me finish up at the office. I'll be there around seven, alright?"

"Alright." You hang up just as a rush of adrenaline pumps through you, making you shower and dress with vigor. You even put on the new shoes and a nice set of lingerie to match. All for Suguru. You tie a robe over yourself and sit at your computer - it's six-fifteen - to do some work as a distraction. And it proves fruitful because when the doorbell rings, it's seven o'clock.

You straighten your robe and walk to the door, fixing your hair before opening it up and grinning at Suguru, who is still dressed in his slacks and a button-down shirt. The top button is open slightly and his sleeves are bunched up around his elbows, but he offers you his sweet smile as well, stepping into the house with ease.

"You look really nice. Are those new shoes?" he asks, tossing his jacket over the back of the couch and turning back to you.

"Why yes, they are," you sing, walking toward him slowly, leisurely. "Do you like them?"

"Do you care?" Suguru wonders, cupping your chin and kissing your lips gently. "I'm going to take them off of you in a second anyways."

"You have all night to think about that," you tease, tugging him toward your bedroom. "But I'd prefer you let me wear them while you fuck me." Suguru lets out a surprised chuckle, following you into the room and shutting the door behind him.

But even after he's fucked you senseless, you can't sleep. Your earlier thoughts haunt you and a twinge of guilt eats at your brain as you lay against a sleeping Su, head resting on his chest as he holds you close. Even when you see the clock hours change from ten to eleven, to twelve to three am, you can't help but dread the moment when he would awake and leave you alone in the bedroom.

And when six o'clock comes, his watch buzzes on the nightstand, shaking him from his hazy sleep.

Your fingers curl into his side, and Suguru groans, rubbing his eyes.

"You awake?" he whispers into the darkness, but you don't reply, hoping he would just lay there for a few minutes more. "Y/n? Your heart is beating a mile a minute."

"So?"

"So..." He shifts up, petting your hair gently. "I think we need to talk." Your heart plummets into your stomach, and you try not to react sharply, but Suguru clears his throat as he turns on the bedside lamp. You look up into his black eyes, and he blinks in the light, biting his bottom lip at the sight of you fully awake. "Why did you call me over here and not anyone else?" You fumble for an answer, but thinking of a lie just wouldn't do. Not for Suguru. "Aren't you breaking your rule?"

"No," you counter, sitting up straight. "I'm not falling in love with you. Your dick, maybe. But not you." The look in his eyes tells you that he knows you're lying. You hang your head, fighting back an apology.

"We should call this off if that's the case."

"No," you whisper, shaking your head. "I don't want that."

"I don't want that either," Suguru murmurs, tilting your chin up with his fingers. "But what happens if you go back to..." You sigh, looking away. "I'm a jealous lover, y/n. I'm not the kind to play around with."

"And I won't," you reply, head snapping back to meet his eyes. "I..." you exhale shakily. "I couldn't stop thinking about you when I was at Bergdorf's." The admission doesn't shock Suguru, but he does clasp his hands together. "Everything reminded me of you, and I--" You break off, hands shaking. "I'm scared."

"Have you discussed this with anyone else?" The question implies the obvious, and you look to your phone, opening it up and letting him see the contacts "Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Saturday, Sunday" all with the same message:

Sorry, I have to cancel our weekly rendevous. Hope you understand.

"Am I saved as Friday?" Suguru chuckles, but you scroll down a little more, and his name pops up: Suguru Geto.

He huffs a laugh, shaking his head.

"I'm the special one, huh?" You turn his head toward you, leaning in to kiss him on the lips once.

"Please, let me break my rules for you." Suguru groans, leaning into your touch and kissing your palm in response.

"Let me start right now then, babe. And don't worry, we'll take it one rule at a time." You giggle as he tosses your phone aside and leans into you, kissing you just like he did before and switching off the light as daybreak comes.

_____________________________________________________________

TAGLIST: @missbonekitty @wack0-genius @thankuary @r-i-m-f-009 @sunfloweroranges @leanne-tamashi @rein-icu @brownskinnedgirll @savantsoulfinder @chilledlucifer @kontentious @flare-on @meena-in-a-nutshell @falling-through-pages @naoyasdarling @vabybizzle

#geto suguru x reader #jujutsu kaisen geto #geto smut #jjk smut #getou suguru x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk geto

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teasty · 4 years ago

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kiss yourself (03) || h.js

● pairing: han jisung x (female) reader

● genre: angst, smut, (kinda) fluff || fwb to lovers au || college!au || non!idol au

● words: 10.4k

→ summary: It all started when you and your best friend for life, Han Jisung, got a little bit too tipsy at a party and ended up waking up naked in the same bed. After that unfortunate night, you and Jisung confirmed there be a distinguished “friends with benefits” relationship between the two of you, with a few rules.

Number One: No one else is supposed to know about this relationship.

Number Two: The minute one of the two of you starts a serious relationship with someone, the benefits are cut off immediately.

Number Three: Have to respect the other’s wishes, if one doesn’t want to do it, then there’s no argument.

Number Four: No falling in love.

But, when Jisung starts crushing over your classmate, you start to break the rules. One by one.

a/n: a lot happens in this chapter,, it's pretty fast paced but it is what it is ~

Chapter One | Chapter Two | CHAPTER THREE

“I want you to fuck me dumb, Jisung. I want to think about nothing but you.”

You refused to cry, no matter how bad you wanted to.

You didn’t actually head back to the dorm, deciding you weren’t tired enough to fall asleep fast enough and that you simply wanted to have the comfort of being alone for the time being. You’re so fed up, so irritated and stressed, not even Jisung fucking you over and over again until you’re too weak to even speak could fix it. Neither did you feel like dealing with Jeongja, so you headed straight for the 24/7 cafe a few blocks away from the school. You didn’t go there often, but you went there a few times with Jisung in the mornings. You weren’t as familiar with the place like he was, but you knew for a fact that it was open all day, every week day.

There was only one other person in the cafe. A young, tired looking woman who typed vigorously on her laptop, which was plugged into the wall along with her phone, which she listened to whatever on. She must be a college student, since she had a backpack at her feet and a lanyard hanging from her pocket. You didn’t recognize her, so she was probably your senior. She gave you a subtle glance before turning back to her laptop, and you ignored her. Walking (more limping) up to the cashier.

“Welcome. It’s pretty late,” said a man who didn’t seem too young, but nor too old. Probably in his mid - twenties. He had a small stubble on his chin and his longish hair is tied back, a few rebellious strands framing his decently structured face. You could make out his toned chest and broad shoulders underneath the beige button up he wore, a dusty pink apron around his waist, accompanied by a pair of black slacks. He’s attractive, you couldn’t deny. “Don’t you think it’s a bit too late for a pretty little lady like you to be walking around, alone, in a tee shirt?”

“I’m fine on my own,” you admit, “I’ve been here a few times, but I can’t remember the menu. Mind handing me one?” The man nods, reaching over something to grab a one sided menu, and he hands it to you. After glancing over it, you felt too nauseous to eat, but you needed caffeine, something to keep you going since sleep wasn’t going to be an option for you tonight. “Can I just get an americano? Make it large, please, I need it.”

“Oh, coffee at this hour?” He chuckles.

“This is a coffee shop,” you glance around, a little agitated.

“Yeah, yeah,” the man laughs out, waving a hand as he pressed a few buttons on the cash register, “I’m just teasing you, sweetheart. Is that all you want? An americano, large?”

“No, get me the green tea, too,” you sigh, placing down the menu. It’s not like you to get bitter drinks, let alone two. You’re actually more of a sweets kind of person. But, since you’re not feeling too well, you just want hot, bitter drinks to keep you from going insane.

The man nods, “Hmm, tough night?” You nod slowly, “Surprised you came to a coffee shop. Most people who have rough nights usually hang around at the bar down the road. What made you come here of all places?”

“Well, it’s the first place I thought of,” you shrug a shoulder, “I don’t want a hangover in the morning either. I always know how those go. Never had the best luck when I’m drunk.” You chuckle, smiling wistfully for a moment before it turns into a bitter frown at the thought of your vague first time with Jisung. You shake your head slowly, subtly. It wasn’t a mistake. Not at all. It wasn’t bad luck. But, right now, it kind of feels like it. You’ve gotten more attached to Jisung than you have the years before you both started fucking around. “Plus, my friend used to bring me here. Thought I’d see the place alone.”

“Well, I appreciate you stopping by,” the man smiles down at you, and you give him a brief one back, “What’s your name? What should I put as the name, sorry.”

“(Y/N) (L/N),” you grumble out your name.

“Are you a foreigner?”

“No. My parents just aren’t born here,” you respond, having gotten the question hundreds of times in the past.

“Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss (Y/N) (L/N),” the man smiles, and you chuckle softly as he rings up the order, “My name is Jeongguk. I assume you go to the college down the road?” Jeongguk asks as you sit on one of the stools at the counter. You sigh, your shoulders dropping as you nod slowly. Watching as Jeongguk prepares the americano. “Ah, I used to go there. I already graduated.”

“What was your major?” You ask curiously.

“I was a fine arts major. I only have my undergrad, but I’m saving up to go back and get my masters,” Jeongguk says.

“Oh,” your eyes brighten, intrigued by the sudden conversation, “If you don’t mind me asking, what’ll you do with your masters once you get it?”

Jeongguk sighs, his head tilting slightly as he focuses his eyes on the drink in his hand, perfecting it, “I’m not sure, actually. There’s a lot of things I could do. I could just work under a company to make things for ‘em, like designs and shit like that. But, I’m more into painting. Heh, but there’s not much painting can get for you nowadays. I haven’t seen many jobs that take in painters, so I’m reconsidering whether or not painting should be my go - to.”

“Right,” you nod, completely understanding, “It’s an amazing skill to have, though. You could probably start up on social media and sell your works worldwide.”

“Social media’s never been my forte, but it’s a thought,” Jeongguk passes you the americano, and you don’t hesitate to take a sip of the hot drinking, cringing slightly at the bitter taste. But, you soon get used to it. “What’s your major?”

“Political science,” you chuckle.

“Oh - ho! We got a smarty - pants over here, now don’t we?” Jeongguk jokes as he grabs a white, bulky mug from a shelf. You chuckle, a bit flusters. Already feeling better from this conversation with him, “The only person I knew in political science was Chris! You know Chan? Bang Chan?”

“Yeah, he’s on my committee, we’re friends,” you shrug a shoulder.

“Nice. Let him know I said hi, won’t you?” You nod quickly, taking another sip of the coffee, “Is it as much work as they say?”

“Well, with this dumb team I was pressured into, yeah, it’s a lot more than most other people with different majors seem to have,” you answer, and Jeongguk nods slowly, listening intently as he puts a kettle filled with water on a small stovetop. He then turns to you and leans against the bar table separating you both, “It’s fine, though. I’m just doing it to get a job so I can provide myself with enough money to get what I need and a bit more to have what I want. People in that field get lots of money, you know?”

“Yeah, just depends on what you decide to be,” Jeongguk nods.

“I guess you’re right,” you nod slowly, “I’m most likely to graduate with my bachelors, but I’m gonna take law so I can be a lawyer. Either tort or criminal, I don’t mind.”

“Ah, those are tricky fields in law, aren’t they,” Jeongguk chuckles, and you nod slowly, “Well, I wish you the best of luck. By the way, when did you and Chris become friends? I’ve been friends with him for a few years, now, and I don’t recall him being with you.”

“Oh, I only befriended him at the beginning of the year,” you say, and Jeongguk nods, “I went to a party with my friend and met him there. We’re also on the same committee for planning for the school, so we got pretty close.”

“You mean the huge party right before school started up, don’t you?” You nod slowly, “Mm. I know just what party you’re talking about. I think I might’ve seen you. You looked familiar when you walked in, so it’d make sense. Let me guess, were you with one of Chris’s buds? I forget his name, but I think his family name is Han, right?”

Your eyes instantly roll, and you nod, “Yeah. Han Jisung. I went with him.”

“Ouch, what a reaction,” Jeongguk laughs, noting your eyes which rolled sassily, “Did he do something to you?”

“It’s a long story.” You admit. It’s not too long, actually. It could be simplified, but you didn’t want to talk about it to a stranger.

“I have time,” Jeongguk says, smiling brightly.

You raise a brow, “So do I, and I’m going to spend it drinking my coffee.” Jeongguk raises his hands in surrender.

“Fine, fine. Have it your way,” And finally, Jeongguk finished your tea and gave it to you.

You both talked for the remainder of the night (well, morning) until the sun came up. You had about five coffees, trying different kinds that Jeongguk suggested, and another green tea with honey in it. You learned that Jeongguk graduated early, mostly since he didn’t have enough money, but he was also ahead of the rest of the year by a long run, so he privately graduated. He didn’t start working at the coffee shop until a few months ago, and works the night shift and was the only one there. Apparently, no one usually came in during his shift except for travellers passing by or the tired college students, which were more likely to come by and study.

You didn’t even notice it was morning until Jeongguk’s face illuminated with the sunlight over the city’s buildings. You both traded numbers, and you promised to come again during his shift on his days. He said he’d text you, but you weren’t too sure he would. You were at least thankful to not be totally alone that night, since part of you knew that Jisung was going to get to your head, and you’d be either upset or angry. Jeongguk was able to rid your mind of him, even if only for those five or so hours you sat there, talking to him.

But, once you walked into your dorm to change into a quick pair of different clothes, all you could think about is Jisung. Debating your feelings.

You, however, constantly repeated to yourself that you didn’t even like him like that. He’s only a friend. Only a friend. Have it be with or without benefits, he’s only a friend.

You decided to just wear a pair of baggy sweats and an old hoodie, not caring much for your appearance. Although there’s tons of caffeine running through your system, you were still exhausted from the lack of sleep, and your mood had been dropped. You knew there was probably going to be another meeting today with Chunae, but you couldn’t be too sure. You didn’t get any work done last night (obviously), and you don’t know whether or not you’ll hear it from her or not, whether or not she’ll pull you out of class again for a meeting you could care less about.

You didn’t see Jisung for the first few hours of school, per usual. He didn’t try texting you nor calling you, which you were a bit skeptical about, but you tried to ignore it. You’re supposed to be agitated with him. And, you are. You still cared for him, and you still miss him despite it being only one night. But, then again, he probably didn’t miss you the way you missed him.

He would miss you, sure. But he wouldn’t miss the way you kiss him, right? He wouldn’t miss the way you hold him. The way you love him.

But, you’re not in love with him.

You can’t be.

You did see Chris, though. He actually walked up to you during passing hall and pulled you aside, against a wall. He wore a concerned, tired look as he folded his arms. Staring down at you, and rose a brow. It was silent for a moment until you emit a low, “What?”

“What’s going on between you and Jisung?” Christopher says sternly, and your blood runs cold right then and there. Your eyes widen and your brows raise as you stare up at him. Did he know? You’re too scared to answer.

“What… do you mean?” You utter out.

“Jisung called me last night asking if you were at my dorm last night at, like, midnight. Woke me up when I should’ve gotten sleep…” Christopher grumbles, rubbing his temple, “He said he thought you would have run off to my place. Didn’t say shit as to why, though. Didn’t say a damn thing. The boy even asked me to go to your dorm to see if you were there, but no one answered. I figured you were asleep. I just need to know why Jisung had to call me at fucking midnight ‘cause of you.” Christopher’s Australian accent slips into his Korean, which means he’s probably both irritated and tired.

“Oh… I’m sorry. No, I was out at some coffee shop until, like, five in the morning last night,” You answer truthfully, and Christopher sighs, “Oh, and by the way. I talked to Jeongguk there. He said hello.”

“Really, now? Jeon Jeongguk?” Christopher asks, and you shrug a shoulder, “Well, I appreciate it. Tell the guy I miss him. But, that’s not the point. At this point, I’m kind of concerned. I went over my conversation with Jisung last night all morning and yet I can’t find a single reason why you would be running to my dorm like he thought or why he didn’t go see you himself. Did he do something wrong?”

“It’s not that it’s wrong. I’m just upset about it,” you answer, and Christopher nods slowly.

“Do you mind telling me what that is? If you do, it’s a possibility I can help,” Christopher suggests, but you smile and slowly shake your head.

“It’s not something you can help with this time, Chan,” You sigh, “It’s a bit too personal.”

“Okay, now I’m really concerned. I might have been Jisung’s friend longer, but I care about you, too, (Y/N). Please tell me what’s wrong. I know something’s happening between the two of you. And if it’s really that personal, I promise on my life not to tell anybody,” Christopher says.

You sigh and look around before grabbing the man’s hand and pulling him away to somewhere more private. He didn’t argue, but he seemed a bit surprised at how quickly you acted. You pulled him out to the courtyard, not caring much for being tardy, anymore. Your heart thumped in your chest. The rules vividly recite themselves in your mind; “No one else is supposed to know about this relationship.”

Well, here goes one rule flushed down the toilet.

Once you stopped, Christopher shoves his hands in his pocket, shrugging his shoulders at you, “Okay, now what is it?”

You shake your head slightly, debating whether or not to tell him. If Jisung found out, it’d be the death of you. But, you don’t know if you should be excited about that or scared. You’re not sure how he’d react to such news from Christopher.

You know what, fuck it, you thought to yourself.

“Well?”

“We’ve been fucking since the party,” you blurt out, and Christopher’s brows raise in shock. At both the news and how flat toned and blunt you were being. “I got a bit too tipsy and we ended up having sex. We made specific rules, which is so dumb of me to say since one of them is to literally tell nobody. Which means you can’t tell anyone and you can’t let Jisung know that you know this or he will kill me, Chan. Kill me, got it? Whatever, it… he and I had a bit of a fight after doing it last night.”

“But why?” Christopher carefully asks.

“Because he’s after a girl. A girl I’m not too fond of,” you admit.

“Chunae, isn’t it?”

“How’d you know?” You raise a brow, glad he isn’t overreacting to your confession to sleeping around with Jisung.

“Let’s just say that he’s been flirting with her every chance he gets,” Christopher admits, and you sigh softly, looking down in disappointment, but trying your hardest not to make it too obvious about how upset you were, “They share some classes, and he’s apparently been talking to her every chance he gets. Not to mention, Chunae seemed pretty into him, too.”

“Yeah, no shit,” you sigh, tiredness suddenly coming over you, as well as exhaustion, “We fought about it, but I’m the one in the wrong. He has every right to like someone and want to date someone. But… I dunno.”

“Do you love him?” Christopher asks slowly, and you take a seat at the nearest bench, Christopher following behind you and sitting next to you.

“I don’t know,” you answer truthfully in a small voice, “I really don’t know. One part of me misses him so much whenever I’m without him. One part of me loves him, but the other part just tells me that he’s only my friend and nothing more. But, yeah. He wanted me to stay the night at his dorm, but I didn’t since he only had me over and treated me well because he’s going to cut things off soon.”

“Do you want him to cut things off?”

“No!” You yell, a little too upset with the situation, and Christopher breaths in through his nose. You cover your face with his hands, slightly muffled by your hands, “I don’t! But he says that we will, and I-” you don’t bother to look up, cutting yourself off before you start crying out of nowhere. Your head hurt from the lack of sleep, but your eyes hurt from the need and resistance to cry.

Christopher placed a warm hand on your back, and you breath slowly.

“I don’t want him to leave me, Chris… I really don’t,” you shake your head slightly. Christopher’s hand massages your back and shoulders reassuringly. His warm hand giving you the reassurance you needed.

“I know, (Y/N), I know. It’s alright,” he sighs, his arm wrapping around you and pulling you into a hug. You don’t resist it. In fact, you lift yourself up to let your hands grip onto his shirt to hug him tightly, “If you’ll like, I can talk to Jisung. I won’t tell him that I know about the… benefits… but, I’ll let him know that you just don’t feel comfortable about his relationship with Chunae, alright? How does that sound?” Christopher’s voice is sweet and soft, calming you from your growing tears.

“That sounds perfect, Channie… thank you,” you whisper softly, your head burrowed in his chest.

It’s weird being held by another man. Another man that isn’t Han Jisung. It’s nice, especially since Christopher has such a loving and gentle personality. His hands hug you without any awkwardness, and it’s nice that someone other than Jisung can hug you without being uncomfortable.

But, your comfort was soon taken away when Christopher let’s go of you and shifts in his seat. You look up, and you see someone familiar walking towards you both. At first, your tears — blurred eyes make it impossible to see who it is, but once your eyes are cleared, Han Jisung’s perfect face comes into view. His face is stoic, his lips down turned in a subtle frown. His eyes are focused on you, and you stand up in your spot, clutching your backpack to get ready to leave.

“Don’t you dare move, (Y/N),” Jisung yells loudly, and you freeze at the spot. Christopher’s eyes widening from how aggressive Jisung sounded. Once he’s directly in front of you, he finally looks over to Christopher, and steps towards him, “I asked you to check up on her, Chan. Not do whatever the fuck you guys were doing just now.”

“What, comforting her?” Christopher stands his ground, standing up despite them both being the same height, “Something you should have been doing instead of me?”

Your hand clamps over your mouth. Jisung’s brows furrow, and his fists clench, but he doesn’t do anything, “I asked you a simple favor. To check up on her for me.”

“And that’s what I was doing,” Christopher defends himself, and you watch curiously. Neither of them spare you a glance, both staring at each other, “I’m not trying to pick a fight here, Jisung. But, it’s not my place to take care of her in… your situation.” Christopher looks Jisung up and down, and Jisung wears a disgusted look on his face. “I only asked what the fuck you did for you to think she was running off to me. ‘Cause, she was actually at the fucking coffee shop all damn morning talking to Jeongguk.”

“Jeongguk?” Jisung’s brows furrow, and he looks over to you briefly. You slowly nod, “Did you sleep at all last night?” You slowly shook your head, and Jisung groaned, running a hand through his messy hair. He turns back to Christopher, “Can you leave, Chan? I need to talk to her.”

Christopher looks past Jisung to you, and you shake your head slowly. Somewhat afraid of being alone with Jisung just for what you will talk about. However, Christopher gives you an apologetic look before turning back to Jisung, “Fine. Call me later (Y/N). If you don’t, I’m stopping by your dorm to check up on you.”

“Alright… Bye, Chan…” You mumble loudly back, and Christopher gives Jisung a subtle glance before grabbing his things and walking away.

You sat back down, half expecting Jisung to do the same. But, no, he stood in front of you. Towering over you as you stared at your feet. His hands stuff themselves into his hoodie’s pockets, and there’s a tense silence.

“Jisung…”

“Why did you run off like that last night, (Y/N)?” Jisung immediately cuts you off, and you can’t find yourself having the courage to look him in the eyes. You felt embarrassed for yourself, but you had to stay and talk to him. You don’t know how to answer. You don’t have a straight answer in your tired mind. “Answer me, (Y/N). We’re not going to get anywhere if you keep quiet.”

“I don’t know, Jisung,” you breathe out, gripping the bench below you, “I… Was just irritated.”

“Why?” Jisung crouches down so you can’t avoid his eyes. Unlike how you thought, Jisung’s eyes were more concerned than angry, like you thought they’d be. His hand escapes his pocket to rest on your knee, “I knew you weren’t irritated. You were just fine before I started talking about Chunae.”

Caught red handed. You stared at him like a deer in headlights, and your lips purse, trying your hardest to find an answer.

“I don’t know, Jisung. I really don’t,” you whisper to him pitifully, and Jisung shakes his head.

“No… No, I know you know the answer, (Y/N). I can make everything better if you just talked to me,” Jisung says in a voice you rarely heard. He’s usually joking around or simply has such an upbeat attitude. It’s so rare to see Jisung this serious, it almost makes you want to cry by how it affects you so. The way his voice lowers, relaxing and calming, yet stern. The way his eyes weren’t bright or happy, but not cold or angry.

It was almost scary.

“You say that as if there’s something wrong with me,” you try to chuckle bitterly, dodging his stare. But, his head moves with yours, and his hand that rests on your knee rises to firmly cup your cheek, turning your head to look directly at him with no exceptions.

“Because there is. There’s something you’re not telling me,” Jisung answers.

“Jisung,” your voice hardens, your heartbeat rising as Jisung’s words tug and pull at your heart, “I need to get to class. I’m already very late.”

“No, you’re staying here until we figure this out,” Jisung’s other hand grips your wrist, tugging at it, even though you never moved to get up in the first place. He seemed on edge, and took a brief glance behind him before turning back to you, “You’re my best friend for life, (Y/N). You know that. I care so much for you, and if there’s something wrong with my decisions, then I need you to tell me.”

“I…” your eyes close for a minute, nibbling on your bottom lip before looking up at him, “I don’t want you to cut things off between us, Jisung. I want to keep doing this… whatever this is. It makes me happy, Jisung.”

“Oh, (Y/N)...” Jisung sighs softly, his head dipping for a moment before he looks up at you with a pitiful smile, “Is that why you were mad last night?”

“So what if it is? You won’t do anything about it,” you answer, and Jisung’s brows furrow, “Even if I begged on my knees for you to keep doing this with me, you’d still reject me, wouldn’t you?”

“I — (Y/N), you know that I—“

“Wouldn’t you?” You cut him off, your glossy eyes boring into his. His hand falls from your face, resting on your thigh, and he squeezes it slightly.

“It depends…” Jisung answers truthfully, “On what I’m rejecting you for.” Your frown deepens, upset with his answer. Even so, you would’ve been upset if he said no. “If it’s for something stupid, like someone told me to stop or I had moral changes, hell no. But if it were for something like… like Chunae and I… then yes.”

You don’t answer him. You just stare at him, blinking every so often to try and keep away the growing tears. He would choose Chunae over you. Of course. You should have known. Everyone loved Chunae. Chunae deserved everyone’s love for how pretty, smart and proper she is. Of course Han Jisung would reject the sassy, immature and lazy (Y/N) (L/N) for a perfect woman like Chunae. You’re not a perfect woman. Not at all.

Not for Han Jisung.

It was then, at that moment of thoughts of Chunae and Jisung running through your head that you came to a sudden realization as you stared into Jisung’s worried eyes.

You’re in love with him.

You’re in love with Han Jisung. Your best friend.

“Get away from me,” you mumble.

“What…?” Jisung’s brows furrow.

“I said get away from me,” your broken voice whimpers out, “You make everything so much harder for me. Everything…” You shove away his hands and stand up, but Jisung is quick to scramble up and wrap his arms around your waist, his chest pressed against your back as his face burrows into your neck.

Your heart burns badly. It’s painful, too painful. You feel as though you’re going to collapse from how painful it is.

“Don’t go, yet. Please. You’re confusing me, (Y/N),” Jisung whispers into your neck, his warm breath sending tingles down your spine.

“No. I said get away from me,” you try and push him away, scooping your arms under his to try and push him away. But, Jisung is oddly persistent.

But, you eventually get away, grabbing your things and dashing off.

“No, (Y/N), wait! Please!” Jisung yells after you, but you're already to the building doors, throwing yourself into the building and dashing to the girl’s bathroom to recollect yourself.

And, thankfully, it’s empty. You throw your backpack down and lean against the sink. Finally, you let the tears fall. They fell down your cheeks fast and hot, the aching feeling of relief in your mind allowing you to breath slowly as the tears dripped mercilessly down your face, showing no signs of stopping.

You stared at yourself in the mirror as you cried. You were quiet. Making no sound other than sniffling here and there. You don’t even try to wipe away the tears that stain your face, too bothered and eager to cry to do so. Your eyes grow red and big, your cheeks reddening from the tears and your heart aching badly in your chest.

Once the thought of being in love with Han Jisung enters your mind, you look away from yourself. Your head falling, and you grip your hair. Shaking your head in your arms, Letting out muffled, “No, no, no!”s as you started to weakly, softly sob. Your body trembles with your tears.

You can’t be in love with Han Jisung. It’ll only end in your heartbreak. Jisung will cut things off immediately, and probably push you away once he finds out. You can’t for the life of you let him find out. You’re too scared to tell him yourself, so you have to keep it a secret from anyone who might be able to tell him and have him believe it. It’s too risky, so you’d have to keep this painful secret to yourself, no matter how badly you wanted to babble on and on about how much you hate this feeling and about how good he makes you feel, emotionally and physically.

You didn’t say a word to anyone after your short breakdown in the bathroom. You soon grew too tired to cry, and too stressed to go back to class, so you waited out that period before your lunch hour would come by. You didn’t know where to go. There would be girls hogging the bathroom, and hundreds of other students roaming the campus. You really didn’t want to be around people at this point, but you didn’t have much of a choice in the first place.

So, you went to the courtyard. You called Christopher, telling him about what happened, and he said he was going to be there right away and to meet him by the outdoor canteen. So, you sat at an empty table, waiting.

You scrolled mindlessly through your phone, wearing a blank, stoic expression as nothing was present in your all — too tired mind. Your backpack resting against your leg as you waited.

When you hear loud footsteps coming near, you look up. Not expecting who it was at first. It’s Chunae, and she looks on edge and upset. Her perfectly tinted lips frown darkly at you, and she stops in front of you.

“And where were you last class period?” She asks, and you raise your brow, turning off your phone and resting it on the table.

“Not there? Why do you care?” You scowl back at her, staring up at her with a dark glare. However, she doesn’t seem to back down, only to get angrier.

“I was supposed to give you more papers for people to contact, as well as parents and volunteers,” she throws a stack of papers in front of you. And you gawk at it. She already gave you so much shit to do beforehand, why the hell is she giving you more? You already have enough work, she should know that. She knew as well as the rest how busy political students are. And she had the audacity to throw a stack of papers on your desk and demand you to analyze and contact each person? “I want them done by this weekend, no exceptions.”

“You don’t get to decide that, Chunae,” You scoff, smiling bitterly at her. Your own anger rising, “I already have enough shit from the other stack of documents you thrusted down my throat on top of my school work. I’m not doing all this shit in less than a week!” You nearly yell, but you don’t raise your voice too much. You thrust an angry finger at the stack.

“Listen, (Y/N),” Chunae sighs, “I’m not in the best of moods right now. I don’t want to deal with bullshit right now when we’re on a tight schedule. This event is in danger of being shut down completely if we don’t finish it soon.”

“And does it look like I give two shits?” You sarcastically smile.

“Don’t joke with me, (Y/N), and please control your language. It’s giving me a headache.”

“Oh, boo — hoo,” you roll your eyes, leaning back in your chair, “What do you want? A cookie?”

“Don’t, (Y/N). I swear.” Chunae vaguely threatens, and you smirk.

“You swear what?” You urge, standing up slowly. Taking a step towards her, and she takes a small one back. Her expression doesn’t change. Her dead, yet beautiful brown eyes glaring into yours, “What’ll you do? Give me more paperwork? Tell me off to Daddy? Punch my teeth in?” You glare down at her hand, cocking a snarky brow at it before glaring at her, “I’d like to see you try to lay a finger on me.”

“Like you could do any better,” Chunae snaps, and you’re surprised how she’s snapping back instead of de — escalating the situation. It makes you excited. The urge to punch her only grew, “Your words are louder than your actions, (Y/N). Don’t underestimate me.”

You laugh loudly, “Ha! That’s funny! You… scary? Hey, I give an A- for effort, how about it?” You elbow her arm jokingly before turning back to glare through the paperwork she so selfishly threw your way.

“Don’t you dare talk to me like that,” Chunae snaps.

“You forget who’s older.”

“You forget who has Han Jisung.”

You freeze. The paper falling out of your hand as you turn slowly to see a smirking Chunae. Smiling as though she killed off her worst enemy. Your mouth falls open, and you scoff.

“What… the fuck did you just say?” You grumble darkly, her hands balling into fists at your sides.

“I said… You forget who has Han Jisung,” she repeats slowly.

You had heard her loud and clear. Just like you heard Jisung when he confessed his adoration for Chunae. You were just in shock. You did not expect this out of someone like her. And, just like that, all your respect was lost for the woman. She crossed a border she could never escape. She’s crossed a line she can never retract over. She’s pushed buttons inside you that can’t be fixed.

“I dare you to say that again.” You growl through gritted teeth, and in the corners of your eyes, you can see Christopher walking up. But, a small crowd had started to watch you and Chunae. He stops by them, deciding not to intervene physically.

“(Y/N)?” Christopher yells, and you turn your head to him. “Is…” He grows silent when he sees your angry glare.

You turn back to Chunae, Christopher watching silently, prepared if anything happens. He pulls out his phone, and presses a few buttons before pressing it to his ear. Speaking to the person on the other line under his breath. You could care less, though, and you mainly focused on Chunae.

“I said I dare you to say that again!” You finally yell, and the people in the canteen grow silent. All heads turning to the both of you, and Christopher continues talking on the phone to whoever it is. Your hand flies up, gripping the hem of Chunae’s blouse. Pulling her intimidatingly close. You’re slightly taller than her, so she looked up at you.

Chunae only chuckles softly, “I have Han Jisung… He’s mine, isn’t he?”

As if on cue, your fist, knuckling white from clenching it so hard, comes into contact with Chunae’s cheek right as an out of breath Han Jisung comes running to the scene. But, you’re too busy to pay him any mind.

Of course, like you expected, Chunae flies to the ground. Immediately cupping her face and letting out a brief cry. And, just like that, you’re the bad guy. You sigh and roll your eyes. Shaking off your hand, which aches slightly from the impact on her defined cheekbone. You turn to Christopher and Jisung. Jisung stands there, staring between you and Chunae, who lay on the ground, holding her black and blue face. Christopher just gawks at you.

“What the fuck, (Y/N)?!” Jisung yells.

“Hey, before you overreact, I can explain…”

But, you’re quickly cut off when you feel a yank at your ankle, and you let out a yelp as you get yanked down. Your body yanked down, and the top of your head slams against the table you were sitting out, letting out a loud thunk through the air. And, you can briefly see Jisung trying to run up, but Christopher holds him back briefly.

Your hand flies up to your head, dizziness overtaking you as your mind falls blank for a second. Your head begins to throb, and you hiss through your teeth. However, you’re not gifted with enough time to get over the pain like Chunae did before she towers over you. Her high heels are kicked off, and she presses the ball of her foot into your chest, forbidding airway.

You’re a little too dizzy to think, but you’re conscious enough to react. Your hand flies up on instinct, your hands gripping her ankle and twisting it with your hands, causing her to fall. Before she could have time to get back up, you climb back on top of her and straddle her stomach.

She kicked and struggled, but your hands gripped her wrists (all too familiar with this position with the help of Jisung), pinning them to the ground. Your head aches, throbbing painfully. You’re still dizzy, trying to stay conscious from both the lack of sleep and from your head hitting the table.

“Hey! Hey, calm down. Just, oh fuck, my head. Oh, my god, Chunae, what the fuck is wrong with you?” You grumble as you squeeze your eyes shut, as if that would ease the pain. But, it doesn’t.

Jisung and Christopher eventually come over. Jisung’s arms wrap around you, just below your breasts as he pulls you off. You don’t struggle, but Chunae does. Christopher struggles pulling Chunae away, who still tries to pummel you.

She got a good hit on you. But it wasn’t really her. She just yanked your ankle, which threw your head against the table. You melted into Jisung’s arms, and he helped you to your feet carefully. Every movement made your headache worse. It blistered your head, sending shots of pain through your body. You tried your best to stay conscious, but it was a bit more difficult than one might seem. So, you focused on the way Jisung’s hands held you to try and keep you awake.

You faintly heard a teacher running over, asking about what the hell was going on. Jisung excused him, saying that there was a fight but it’s been handled and he’s taking you to the nurse’s office. So, the professor let you and Chunae go without much argument (probably not wanting to deal with something like this in the middle of the day.

But, Jisung didn’t take you to the nurse’s office. Christopher did, though, dragging a struggling Chunae away to the nurse’s office with no help. Jisung whispered incoherent words to you as one of his hands gripped your waist, the other holding your hand as you stumbled on your own two feet. Your vision blurred and your stomach erupted in pain. You had a concussion, all because Chunae as able to swipe at your ankle.

You were in too much pain to think clearly, hanging onto Jisung, “Ji… my head hurts so fuckin’ bad.” Your words are muffled by the lump in your throat that grew from the pain.

“I know, baby. She got you pretty good, didn’t she,” Jisung’s soft words seem to calm your head a bit, but it goes away the moment your foot plants on the ground to take another step, “It’s alright… I’m sure she wasn’t in a good mood, that’s all.”

“Shut up,” you grumble out, and Jisung sighs softly, squeezing your waist briefly as he walks you through a pair of doors and down a hall.

“I’m sorry, (Y/N). Let’s not talk about Chunae right now. Let’s just get you to rest for a bit,” Jisung reassured, and you thanked whatever god is out there that he’ll shut up about Chunae.

“Where’re we goin’?” You look around, squinting through your blurred vision, as if that’d help (news flash; it didn’t).

“Back to my dorm,” Jisung answers, and you turn to him, “Jeongin isn’t back, yet, so don’t worry. Besides, we have better shit than the nurse will give you. She’ll just give you an ice pack and tell you to move on with your day, now won't she?” You think about it for a moment, although nothing goes through your mind. But, you agree with him and nod slowly.

The rest of the walk is silent. Sometimes, you’d nearly trip over your own feet, but with Jisung’s hand on your waist, he always caught you and whispered words of reassurance that never truly got all the way through your brain. Eventually though, you both made it to Jisung’s dorm. He unlocked it with one hand easily and threw the white door open. Not bothering to flick on the light before he walked in, kicking the door closed, and sat you on his bed.

Once you sat down, you felt like you’d been holding the world on your shoulders. You got a bit of relief since you weren’t moving around as much, but it still hurt like a bitch. Your head throbbed, everywhere. Your body twitched in pain. You couldn’t think straight nor could you see especially clearly, and you felt like you were about to throw up all of the coffee and tea you’d had this morning.

Jisung shuffled through one of his drawers before pulling out a first aid kit. He took his chair from his desk and rolled it in front of you, sitting on it and placing the first aid kit in his lap before opening it. “Dad always said to keep it handy. Turns out it’s finally coming to good use. I just need to see if there’s a wound on your head.”

And, so, without struggle, you lay forward, your head resting on Jisung’s knee as he gently moved your hair to the sides, looking for something. He did end up finding a bruise on the top of your head and said that it would be best to leave it alone for the time being before icing it. He gave you a few pills of over the counter medication to help ease the pain. But, he seemed a bit conflicted. It was mostly silent, you didn’t really talk since you didn’t have the strength to nor the will to. Chunae might be pretty weak, but with a blow to your head on the table like that… that’ll fuck you up real good.

Once you’re laying against his pillows, Jisung finally pipes up again.

“Come here.”

“Hmm?” You look up, and Jisung’s legs are spread slightly, one hand on his thigh as he looked over to you. His hair shadowing his eyes slightly.

“I said come here, now don’t be stubborn,” He motions you over with his hand, and you groan and squeeze your eye shut as you sit up and slide off of the bed and walk up to him. Jisung guides you around and slowly onto his lap. His arms wrapped around your waist tightly.

“Jisung?” You mumble softly.

“Shh… This is going to help you with the pain, baby,” Jisung whispers against your ear, and you feel his press a gentle kiss to the back of your ear. You breathe in sharply, somewhat knowing where this is going as Jisung’s hand grips at your shirt. “It’ll make your head feel so much better, baby. I’ll make you feel good, alright?”

“Mm… how would that help?” You sighed out, your head already leaning onto Jisung’s shoulder, your eyes closing in relaxation as Jisung’s hands caressed your stomach, nearing both your breasts and your womanhood, but not daring to go near just yet.

“It’ll make all your muscles relax. It’ll make you feel better,” Jisung whispers into your ear, making you shiver, “Don’t you want that? You want me to touch you, babygirl?”

You can’t think straight. All morality and logic is thrown out your mental window, so you nod quickly without thinking. One your hands swiping up to caress Jisung’s neck as he pressed a few light kisses to your ear. “Alright, (Y/N). My sweet baby. Just relax for me, alright?” The praise makes butterflies erupt in your stomach, and you nearly forget that he’s only your friend. Your legs spread slightly, your back pressing to his chest. Letting him hold your weight. “That’s my good girl. My perfect (Y/N).”

His. His perfect (Y/N). Those words made you happy, oh so happy. Even if a thought couldn’t bear to finish in your head, you still enjoyed such words. It’s a break from the name calling and the dirty talk. It made you feel like the only girl in the world. Like Chunae was never a part of the picture to begin with.

Jisung’s hands slowly unbutton your jeans, his lips still pressing kisses to the side of your neck and your ear. Occasionally whispering short sentences like, “Good girl… That’s right… Oh, baby…” It makes you squirm in his grasp as he undoes your jeans and pushes them off of you. You weakly lift up your hips to help him a little bit as Jisung lets your pants fall to the ground with a low thud. You press your ass against Jisung, your leg spreading a bit more at the feeling of the cold air of the dorm meeting your clothed womanhood, which got wetter by the second.

You let your head lift, resting your head against Jisung’s cheek to let it rest, but you wanted to watch his hands as they softly caressed your thighs. Sending calming chills through your legs and your gut as his warm hands touched your thighs and hips ever so intimately. You melted into his touch, your lips parting to allow your low breaths to become audible. You could feel Jisung’s breath against your ear and your neck, and your neck craned slightly to feel more of it.

“You’re so beautiful, (Y/N), you know that?” Jisung’s low, sudden voice sent butterflies exploding in your stomach. You whimpered softly in response, not knowing how to respond to such praise, since Jisung was quite the degrader. He’d usually call you all sorts of dirty things. He’s probably taking pity on you since you’re hurt, but it doesn’t matter. It still makes you feel so happy and so turned on. “My beautiful baby…” Jisung whispers, seemingly to himself as his fingers brush over your clothed cunt.

“Jisunggie… don’t talk nonsense,” you utter out, sharply gasping when you feel the base of his fingers press against your clothed labia.

“What nonsense?” Jisung chuckles deeply, his fingers rubbing slowly circles, making your eyes close in bliss and your head rest against Jisung’s shoulder, your hands gripping the arms of the desk chair as Jisung’s other hand squeezes your inner thigh. “Don’t say that it’s nonsense. You’re only lying to yourself.”

You didn’t respond, basking in the pleasure and praise as Jisung’s experienced fingers rubbed along your clothes labia. Soaking your panties through with your juices (yet another pair of perfectly good underwear ruined by Jisung), the outline of your pussy showing through and letting Jisung touch even more sensitive areas.

He goes for a while without actually touching your bare womanhood. Mainly his index and middle finger rubbing and massaging your labia and over your pussy. Jisung’s eyes focused on his hands as he worked them over you. You feel yourself relax, the pain easing from you. You forget about the headache, the dizziness. The nausea and the aching throughout your body; forgotten. All that’s on your mind is how intimately Jisung touches you. How his experienced hands move over your sensitive pussy in such a delicate, yet firm way. So gentle, yet so emphatic.

So loving, yet so bitterly resistant.

Your mind grows blank. Too caught up in the relaxing pleasure and from overcoming your concussion to think straightly. All that keeps your mind wandering is Jisung and Jisung alone. Not Christopher. Not the man, Jeongguk, that you met at the coffee shop. Not even Chunae. Only Han Jisung.

After long minutes of slowly teasing your cunt, soaking your panties with your wetness, Jisung finally bids you one good deed and taps your hip. Guiding you to raise it as he slips them off slowly. Letting them fall down your legs and onto the floor below. You step out of them. Your bottom half now completely exposed, yet you still wear all that’s on your torso. You didn’t care, though. It was better than being fully clothed, anyways.

“Oh, fuck…” Jisung breaths out in a rugged manner as his fingers slowly brush over the lips of your pussy, your sweet wetness seeping from you, already coating Jisung’s fingertips, “You’re so wet for me, baby. So wet for me. It makes me want to fuck you so hard. You’d like that wouldn’t you?” You frantically nod against Jisung’s head, watching as his fingers push against your labia and against your core. Firmly pressing against your clit, and your back arches as you grind your hips on his fingers. “But, I won’t. Not yet, anyways. I’m going to make you feel better, not make you scream and give you a headache all over again.”

Jisung chuckles deeply, as if what he just said was nothing more than a joke, but you didn't laugh along. He doesn’t seem to care, though, since you’re obviously so immersed in the way Jisung’s fingers rub your pussy gently. His lips part slightly, pressing a gentle kiss to your neck as his middle finger teases your entrance.

“Jisung, ahh~... Yes, please, just like that…” you whisper out in sharp breaths as Jisung slowly inserts his middle finger into you. Pumping slowly until his knuckles are pressed against your heat. “Fuck, yes… Love your fingers so much, Jisung - ah.”

“I know, baby,” Jisung tenses below you at your words, and his finger slightly curves inside you, making your leg twitch. But, his hand that caressed your thigh gripped your leg, keeping you steady on his lap. “I don’t usually get to finger you like this, do I? Letting my hands do all the work, hmm?”

No, he didn’t. But damn, you wanted him to more often. You didn’t answer, only with a delicate moan as Jisung’s middle finger slowly pumps itself in and out of you. Curving slightly every time it thrusted into you to hit that special spot. Sending chills through your torso as his finger worked inside you so well. Your walls clench around him, despite how he was going slow. It wasn’t painfully slow, but not enough to make you cum quick enough. It’s a slow burn. Slowly building up your sensitivity as his palm pressed against your clit.

“You take my fingers so well, (Y/N) - ah… You’re always so good for me, aren’t you?” Jisung comments, his voice low, yet gentle. Soft to the ear, and not as aggressive and dark as it tended to be during sex. It sent you on an overdrive. It drove you crazy by just his tone of voice. It made your heart ache and your pussy wetter and wetter. “You don’t know how hard this is for me, baby…”

Oh, you knew. You can feel his hard dick pressing against your ass. The only thing keeping you two apart was his few articles of clothing. But, no matter what he was wearing, you could still feel how he ached underneath you. You mentally applauded him, but you were too lost in the lust to actually bid him something of a congratulations for being able to hold back this long (since he was usually pretty desperate to get his dick inside you).

It’s another minute or so until Jisung pushes in another finger. Slowly stretching you out and making you moan even louder. The way his fingers curled ever so slightly inside you, hitting that special spot over and over again drove you insane. His fingers pressing against it firmly with the tips of it. Your mind hazed with lust and desire, and your craving for him grew even bigger and even more intense.

“Shit, Jisung - ah… That feels so good ~,” you moan out as you meet with Jisung’s knuckles, grinding into his fingers.

“Hmm… does it, baby? You feel good?” You nod slowly to his words, and Jisung breathily chuckles, smiling, “See? I said it would help.”

“I don’t care about that…'' you sigh out softly, although it wasn’t entirely the truth and you were thankful that Jisung’s suggestion was able to subside your headache. “I want you to fuck me dumb, Jisung. I want to think about nothing but you.”

Jisung’s fingers stay inside you, his hand pressed against your throbbing pussy as he looks at your face. You already looked so fucked out. So desperate, your eyes craving and needy. “Are you sure?”

You slowly nod, turning your head and pressing a kiss to his lips briefly. It wasn’t too sloppy, but your tongue brushed over his lips, “Yes, Jisung… I want you to make me your bitch…”

“Oh, sweet, sweet (Y/N)...” Jisung chuckles darkly, his hand pulling itself from your pussy, making you twitch and gasp loudly as his wet hand flies up to grip your cheeks. Pushing your head back slightly as his fingers press into your jaw, holding your head in place as you clenched around nothing. Your pussy craves both release and Jisung ever so badly.

“You were my bitch since the beginning,” Jisung’s voice grows familiarly dark, and you try to clamp your legs shut from the chills that run through your womanhood. But, Jisung’s hand yanks your legs apart. “Keep your legs spread for me. I’m going to fuck you until you’re begging for me to stop.”

You let out a breathy moan, and, at first, you thought Jisung was going to pull you into a kiss. But, he didn’t. He chose a rougher path. He quickly pushes you off of him. Standing up and pushing you face first onto the bed. The back of his hand pushing your face down into the sheets, the other guiding your hips up slowly. Spreading your legs for him. Such a dirty position, your dripping pussy on display for no one other than Han Jisung.

But, he doesn’t spend much time staring at your pussy. Instead, his hands grip your wrists, and he grinds his clothed, hard cock against your wet pussy. He let out a breathy moan, leaning over your so he was next to your ear as he whispered, “You see how hard you make me, (Y/N)? You see you fucking riled up you make me? Makes me want to fuck this pussy all damn day. Have you sit on my cock all fucking day, huh?”

You moan out in response, your hair spread as your hoodie fell down. Your bra is slightly exposed, and Jisung pulls himself up. Basically ripping off your bra and tossing it to the side. Not even bothering with the hoodie itself as he tore down his jeans.

You couldn’t watch him, so you knew he was fully exposed when you heard the snap and fall of his boxers. It’s almost an instant when his throbbing head comes out and presses against your pussy. Your lips fall wide open as Jisung rubs his cock over your soaking pussy.

“Oh, fuck, you’re so wet for me,” Jisung moans out lowly, “So ready for my cock, like always. So desperate for me. So needy for me cock, aren’t you? Already so fucked out and I haven’t even put my dick inside you yet. Such a slutty girl…”

You moan out, your back arching, presenting yourself more to him, “Jisung! Jisung, please just fuck me…! I need it so bad, please…So bad…” You breath out rapidly, clutching the sheets.

Jisung lets out a shaky breath in response to your begging, “Since you asked so nicely…”

And, like an instant, Jisung was inside you. His hips pressed against your ass, his hands guiding your hips back to meet with his. You let out loud strings of moans and groans of Jisung’s name and incoherent words as Jisung fucks himself into you, raw. His dick throbs inside your wet walls. You clench around him desperately, your back falling limp as you succumb to the pleasure.

“Oh, fuck, (Y/N), you do so well in this po-position, don’t you?” Jisung breathes out raggedly, and you moan loudly in response. Jisung’s hands harshly gripping your hips and waist to have you meet back with his harsh, aggressive thrusts. His cock burns your hot walls, burning in such a blissfully good way, it makes your eyes roll back in pleasure.

“Ji-Jisunggie -ah… It’s so… so good - oh, fuck! Just like that, please, just like that!” You scream out as Jisung props up one of his legs, allowing him to have a better angle to thrust even faster and harder. Ramming his rock hard dick into you with passion. Jisung’s hands trail around your waist and ass once you’ve started to bounce back, meeting with his thrusts on your own.

His hands knead your ass. Spreading your cheeks before firmly pressing them. One of his hands, however, reaches up. Slowly crawling up your back, and his hips stagger a bit as his hands grip a handful of your hair. First, his hand merely presses against your head. But, at some point, he yanks you head back. Forcing you up from the bed, and you use your weak arms as support as Jisung’s hand yanks at your hair. You stare at the wall, but you don’t focus on it. You can’t. Your eyes keep rolling back or crossing, mixing beautifully with your loud moans.

Jisung uses the grip on your hair to give him a steadier rhythm as he thrusted into you. His hips slapping against your ass, making it bounce with every thrust. The sounds of skin slapping, your loud moaning and Jisung’s groans and occasional dirty talk filled the room as Jisung pressed wet kisses to your neck. Suckling on the back of your neck especially, and you moan from the feeling of his tongue being flushed against your sweating skin.

It was so much, his cock, the pulling of your hair and his tongue on your neck. Your mind falls blank, thinking of nothing other than Jisung’s cock. Some drool dribbles down the side of your chin as your eyes water from the pleasure. You can’t say anything more, not even being able to form Jisung’s name correctly. You’re so fucked out, so beautifully fucked out.

Jisung definitely noticed it, too, since it gave him the courage to start biting your sensitive skin. It was more sensitive in some places, and you immediately knew that he left hickeys. He bite them gently, yet firmly before running his tongue over the markings.

Your pussy clenched around him dangerously tight. So tightly, it makes Jisung let out a low, broken moan and makes his hips stagger and twitch as he presses himself deep into you. “You’re gonna cum, aren’t you, babygirl? You gonna cum for me like the good little slut you are? Cum on my cock, (Y/N). Cum for me,” Jisung groans out loudly, pressing your head against the sheets again, muffling your loud moans as you feel your climax nearing.

Your knees buckle as your legs twitch and tense dangerously tightly as you feel yourself cum hard. Jisung slows down slightly, riding you out on your high. Your loud moans turn into high pitched ones as your back spasms from the intensity of it.

Right after you cum, Jisung quickly pulls out of you before shooting ropes of white cum onto your ass. You breathe heavily, trying your best to catch your breath as you listen to Jisung moan loudly once he cums, too. Your pussy clenches around nothing, and you feel your entire body relax. All your muscles calm. Exhaustion washes over you like a tidal wave.

And you’re out like a light.

Jisung was a bit concerned as to why you fell asleep so easily. But, he didn’t argue. He gently cleaned you both up while you slept and changed you into a pair of his clothes after he realized you wouldn’t wake up even if he blew an air horn in your ear. He laid you in his bed, as comfortably as he could make you. He wiped the sweat off of your face and watched your sleeping face for a few minutes before he moved back to his desk, grabbing his laptop from his backpack and opening it. Opening work for his classes, since he’ll be absent for the rest of the day.

You slept exceptionally soundly, and he was thankful for that.

Jeongin actually came back that night, too. At first, he didn’t see you sleeping in Jisung’s bed, but once Jisung motioned for him to be quiet, Jeongin looked over to his bed to see locks of (H/C) hair poking out of the blanket. He wondered why you were here, and Jisung naturally just said that you had gotten into a fight and injured yourself and he was taking you in to take care of you. Jeongin didn’t argue much and minded his own business for the rest of the day.

However, Jisung intended to sleep next to you. But, he couldn’t bring himself to. The guilt piling inside him prevented him from doing so.

#han jisung #jisung #jisung han #han #skz #stray kids #stray kids angst #smut #jisung smut #han jisung x reader #jisung x reader #han x reader #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids smut #skz smut #skz angst #jisung x reader angst

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ellitx · 4 years ago

Note

okay currently head empty, only dry humping with venti-

I’m gonna use butler!venti here so i hope you don’t mind

masterlist

word count: 1.6k

art belongs to rome

warning: NSFW content ahead

“Mistress, do you really want this?”

A small nod from you is all the answer Venti needed to know before stretching out his hand to you. You slowly approached him and took his hand in yours while he guided you to sit on his lap, facing him.

Your thighs comfortably rested on both sides as you straddled him. Leaning forward, you pressed your chest against his and draped your arms over his shoulders.

“Please tell me if you wish to stop.” His hands drifted down your sides sensually. One hand cupped his cheek and you ran your tips on his bottom lip slowly and seductively, tempting him to latch his lips with yours in which you happily indulged him.

He captured your soft and pliable lips bringing it to an intoxicating kiss. Neither of you two stopped. Venti’s hand only brought you closer to him, bringing it to a much more heated and deeper kiss as his tongue swept across your mouth asking for entrance.

You granted him entry and your butler took his time to explore the insides of your mouth. He loves you’re allowing him to do such things with you. He is, after all, your most trusted butler. Always coming to him in need of help and he never says no to his dearest mistress. Always accepting them except for that one time where you asked him to have indecent acts with you. He did abide by your request albeit hesitantly.

It’s the first time he received that kind of demand from you. But did he say no? Of course not. Whatever his mistress needs, he’ll do it no matter what it takes.

Heavy breathing and the sound of two wet tongues fighting are the only sounds evident in the quiet room of your butler.

“I want you…” You muttered under your breath and carried his hand to grope on your clothed breasts. Venti slowly helps you unbutton your blouse and drag the clothing away until it’s hanging over your shoulders.

Your eyes were settled on every tiny button on his shirt, urging you to unfasten them and discard them away. “I’m not forcing you, am I…?” You asked quietly, hands resting on his shoulders timidly as you gently massaged his clothed flesh. He simply smiled and shakes his head before leaning in to connect his lips with yours for a soft and quick kiss.

His hands reached up to your face, gently holding you as his thumb circles on your cheek. “Whatever you ask, I’ll do it for you, Mistress.” You pressed your lips to a thin line and looked away.

“I don’t want you to think of this as an order from me. I want to make you feel good as well.”

“I know that,” he smiled. “May I?”

After a small yet timid nod from you, he brought his gloved hand close to his lips and pulled the article away between his teeth. Throwing it aside, his palm trailed gentle patterns on your slightly bared back. Long and slender fingers taking in the sensation as they pull over each strap and band of your lacy bra.

Your two voluptuous breasts look inviting as they sit perked in their covers. All Venti wanted to do is reach and touch it, wondering how soft it would be in his hold if he squeezes them. You feel his practiced hand brushed over your breasts and it brought you in large anticipation what his next move will be to play with your body.

A sudden moan escapes from your lips as he slips his hand in your bra and squeezes them firmly.

“V-Venti…” You moaned and threw your head back as two fingers were playing with your nipples in between them.

Your smooth and flawless collarbone has been always his weak point, always tempting him to mark you whenever it’s exposed and he wastes no time latching onto your throat, sucking, nibbling, and releasing your skin between his teeth.

You helplessly pushed your body against him and felt something hard against your thigh, surprising you. Venti leaned in closer and initiated the heated make-out session once again. His hands came to rest on your clothed hips and helped you move in a back and forth motion in his lap.

The friction between you two is so delicious that you want to grind more on him. Shameless and erotic moans continuously slip from your throat causing his lips to tugged into a smirk that he’s pleasing his mistress very well.

You feel something damp is forming between your legs, staining your panties as both of you persist on grinding against each other. It feels amazing. His hard cock hitting your wet and clothed pussy had your body shivering in delight at the sensation. You laid your head on his shoulder and panted heavily while he continued to move your hips to and fro.

“Mhng~!!” You moaned and tightly held on to his arms in hopes he’ll understand your request. Your butler stops and looks into your eyes to read your countenance.

“Ah~! V-Venti—!” A sudden gasp left from your throat as his thumb circled at your sensitive clit through your damp undergarments. Your nails dug into his sleeves, whimpering and crying his name the more he moves them.

“S-so good… hmm… m-more~” It’s too good to be true and you never felt this before. It brings excitement and anticipation to your nerves. Your whole body turning warm as his other hand rubbed up and down your legs. When his fingers hooked on the waistband of your skirt, you immediately halted him.

“Wait,” You breathed out and held his wrist catching his attention. “My apologies, should we end here?” He questioned and let go of your skirt before placing a hand on your exposed thigh to rest on.

Shaking your head, you pushed yourself forward and pressed your temple against his. Your breathing was heavy, he could feel it brush on his skin every time you breathed out. Your gaze landed on his lips, admiring the silent but tremulous manner. Just from your quiet state, he understands what you want and so he finally closes the gap between you two and holds your head carefully.

You shakily took his hand and guided it back to your covered sex. He patiently waits for you to allow yourself to get used to the sensation of him touching you like that. It’s the first time the two of you have gone this far. It’s mostly a heated kiss and touching each other and he understands how it can be quite overwhelming with all these sensual ministrations he’s been giving you.

Venti groaned in the kiss as your fingers pushed his hand to put more pressure on your clitoris, stroking it up and down that made you so wet even more just from a simple touch. Your delicate hand rests above his own and he didn’t hesitate to increase his pace. He wants to drink your moans, listen to them forever, and just take in and remind himself he’s the only one who can make you feel like this.

Your juices dripped on his slacks, staining them but he paid no attention to it. He only wants to hear your melodious moans for his ears to bestow with. Rocking you back and forth in his lap, he vigorously grinds your body together against him causing you to break the kiss and bite down your lower lip at the gratifying friction.

You quickly held onto his shoulders to balance yourself as you thrust your hips to keep up his pace. A strangled moan got caught in your throat and your legs trembled from excitement and anticipation.

“Venti~!” You gasped his name and he absorbed all your whimpers and stifled moans with his own, linking your lips together to bring you to another full open-mouthed heated kiss.

“Moan for me, Mistress.” His voice had an authoritative tone to it while his hold on your hips was firm to keep you balanced as he moved you back and forth on his clothed groin. “Venti—! Mnghh~!! More please~!” Another moan came as you pressed harder down on his erection.

Venti hissed and bit on your exposed shoulder to muffle down his noises. He panted and moved you faster until you feel yourself reaching close to your orgasm. Your toes curled at the heat building up in your stomach. His nails were digging deeper on your skin that will surely leave a mark as he pressed you harder down onto him to increase the friction between you two.

“I’m close, Mistress.” He breathes on your shoulder, nibbling and sucking on it until it turns a dark blemish.

“Hah… V-Venti—!! Ah~ f-faster!” He abides by your wishes and thrusts his hips against yours. Your back arched and clenched your thighs together as pleasure pulsed between your legs. You slung your arms around his neck as your fingers ran through his dark locks and gripped on them tightly.

Venti immediately locked your lips together with his for an umpteenth time, swallowing all your moans and taking them in as his hands kept thrusting your hips throughout your orgasm as he reached his climax as well.

“[Name]…” He groaned into your mouth and stared deeply into your eyes, observing your flushed face before wiping away the drips of sweat rolling down on the sides. Your panties were damped of your own cum, smudging his outfit. It goes the same for him— a wet stain colored his slacks underneath to where you were sitting.

You breathe in delight while you catch your breath after your orgasm, thighs continuously shaking from the vehement and fiery session with your servant.

“Do you feel much better now?” Venti asked with a gentle smile, leaning his head against yours and engraving every single feature of you in his mind. You nodded and softly pecked his nose before gripping his lower lip between your teeth, much to his surprise, to kiss him in thanks.

“Hm. Thank you, Venti.”

The male softly chuckled and slowly laced your hands together with his. “Anything for you, Mistress.”

#anon ask #ellianswers #elliwrites #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact venti x reader #venti x reader #genshin impact venti #venti #venti brainrot

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roanniom · 4 years ago

Note

Hey Issa, my sweet honey bun! I don’t send many requests to people, so bear with me. I’ll forever wait for the day you write Kylo, but until then I’ll throw this one at you for Charlie. I had a wander through the prompt list, and I kinda liked “I’ll feel better if you let me walk you home.” with Charlie being all protective of reader, unsure if she reciprocates his feelings. And because I’m a garbage can of filth, I also loved “I’m not made of glass. You won’t break me.” if you wanted to move into smut. I hope this gets the creative juices flowing? Take your time, no pressure ever! 💕💕💕

@paper-n-ashes as you know I have been holding onto this and chipping away at it steadily for FOREVER so I can get it just right for you, so I hope you enjoy it, my love <3

Push

Charlie Barber x Reader

Word Count: 6,862

Warnings: NSFW, fingering, PIV sex / unprotected sex, light light light choking (not even really), mention of infidelity (just canon from Marriage Story plot), a lil post-divorce angst/lack of confidence

The above photo is Charlie Barber, 1-year post divorce. He’s been working out as a form of anger management and because Henry, over many late night phone conversations, has shared his new love of hiking, a pastime he’s picked up since living in LA. Charlie plans to take Henry hiking on the Appalachian trail next summer break and wants to be on tip top shape to keep up with his enthusiastic son.

He’s been to therapy. Learning more about what went wrong in his marriage, but more specifically learning about how he can become a better person in the aftermath. How infidelity and self-interest were born of a deep-seated need for a love that he was not receiving. A love that was no closer to him prior to his indiscretions but all the same rendered unreachable as a result. He’s given himself time to grieve the man he’d thought himself to be. Because that is what had died with his marriage - not Charlie Barber himself. But the Charlie Barber he’d built in his mind. A man limited by support that came with conditions, love that came with caveats. That Charlie was a father and a husband. He was often suppressed, wound tight, on edge.

This Charlie is a father and a man. He is free to celebrate his own success without fear of wounding nearby egos. He’s limited only by what he feels he deserves. And granted sometimes those self-imposed limitations can really hold him down, as they did when he vowed not to jump into any further entanglements - affairs or otherwise - in the time immediately following his divorce. But that limitation was ultimately beneficial. It gave him space to be alone - with himself, for himself. He was able to finally see his own flaws with his own eyes instead of having them recited back to him by another, as if through a crude, second hand reflection. And in seeing these flaws, he also saw the virtues. Charlie was actually starting to like himself again.

And this is when he meets you.

You storm into his life with an energy he doesn’t recognize, introduced at a party by a friend of a friend, filling his senses with your too-loud-laughter and too-bright-eyes. In many ways that’s how he sees you: too much. Your enthusiasm makes you appear too young, though in truth you’re not that much younger than him. Your smile makes you appear too beautiful, though in truth there are often much more conventionally attractive women in the room at any given time.

“Charlie. Charlie Barber,” Charlie mutters as he shakes your hand. Its warm in his larger one and he’s suddenly a little self-conscious of the fact that he’d been holding his sweating scotch on the rocks just moments before the contact.

“Hello Charlie-Charlie Barber,” you reply with a massive grin, shaking his hand back vigorously and with seemingly no reaction to its clamminess. “The famous director, I assume?”

Charlie clocks the quirk of your eyebrow. A tease. A social cue he’s not used to. Not these days. He looks down at his worn tennis shoes, all too aware all at once of the way they dress down his sweater and jeans. He feels rumpled next to you and he’s not sure he likes it. You’re too put together.

You’re too honest, too fearless, too open to new things. Though Charlie’s beginning to grow, your presence reminds him of how stunted he’d been in his marriage. How the same old restaurants, the same old clothes, the same old glass of the same old scotch had become items of comfort for him, talismans of a previous life that he clung to for some semblance of familiarity. Around you, however, those same old things looks dull and uninspired. Quite the opposite of you.

You are the one to ask him out, though he’s not even really aware that it’s a date at all when he arrives. That’s how much he doesn’t see you coming. His affair had been one of convenience. An opportunity to blow off excess steam, and a pretty disappointing one at that, with neither party really find what they were chasing. His marriage had grown cold long before it had ended. All of this to say that Charlie wasn’t very familiar with warmth. With interest that occurred in the light of day, and attention that was given without anything sought in return.

You’re halfway through lunch before you realize that he doesn’t understand your intentions. So you explain them to him. Clear and empty of any pretense. You are attracted to him and interested in getting to know him further. It’s simple, really. He’s shocked by your openness and the absence of any games. In another life he’d once assumed that a relationship without strife, without agony, without strategic tug of war would be one without passion. However, as he soon learns while taking you out on the second date, that he couldn’t have been farther from the truth.

Over dinner this time he finds himself getting lost in your micro-expressions. Finds his eyes lingering on the animated way you gesture, finds his words getting twisted in his tongue as your gaze weighs on him, expectant and waiting for a response to some question. His bodily responses to your attention are no less potent in the absence of angst. In fact, he is surprised to find that his yearning practically triples when you part ways and he realizes not once had he been made to feel like he had to prove something, or fight, or challenge.

He learns over time that you challenge him in other ways. Challenge him when it comes to picking restaurants outside his comfort zone. Challenge him by dragging him, mid-lunch date, on a shopping trip with you, a trip where you gently help him to finally replace the worn out tennis shoes to which he’d been clinging. Challenge him by laughing with him, not at him, even when the subject of the humor is himself. Your laughter is lighter, more carefree, than he is used to. Then again, he’s not used to being around someone like you.

He kisses you after the third date – the lunch-turned-shopping trip. It’s quick and it’s light, on the curb before an intersection on the East Side, right before you both are about to walk in separate directions. You say nothing when he pulls away. Just smile and turn on your heel, already headed to your next destination. It drives Charlie crazy over the next few days. Not because he assumes you have some hidden agenda. On the contrary, he’s horrified that your interior thoughts match your exterior actions. You have been nothing but honest with him. It is Charlie who has been oscillating wildly in his mind. Between thoughts of how much it might hurt if you turn out to be too good to be true and thoughts of how much he’d love to feel your body on his. To explore the mouth you use so effortlessly to tease him, to compliment him, to charm him. You speak kindness like pleasantries, as if affirmations and praise were as easy to dole out as a cheery “good morning” on a stress-free Saturday. Charlie wants to know what you’re like on a Saturday. Away from the bustle of the city. Away from the common friends and the crowded shops and restaurants that have buffered all of your encounters.

But Charlie’s still afraid.

On your fourth date Charlie is more reserved when you arrive at the restaurant. You break the ice by pointing out that the formality of your dates is beginning to feel silly.

“Maybe it’s the fact that the tables have tablecloths,” you joke, swirling your pasta around a fork. “Or maybe it’s the fact that I’ve never repeatedly had meals with someone I wasn’t already in a relationship with.”

Charlie prickles at the implication, taking a labored swallow of ice water. He doesn’t want to comment on the relationship part of your sentiment so he chooses something more neutral.

“Should I remind you that two of these meals have been at your suggestion and you did, in fact, also plan them as meals.” He relaxes a bit when you laugh heartily at that, relieved that the conversation doesn’t get any more dicey.

“Touché,” you reply. Then you lean forward and whisper conspiratorially at him across the small table. He feels himself lean in, curious but also looking for a chance to just get closer in proximity. He wishes he’d had the courage to sit next to you rather than across from you when he’d first sat down. “Feeling adventurous enough to let me pick where we go after this tonight?”

And Charlie feels adventurous. Adventurous as he lets you whisk him across town and to your favorite arcade bar. Adventurous as he passes you a large handful of quarters he got from the little machine at the front, only to grasp your fist in his when he miscalculates how much of his handful you’d be capable of taking, narrowly avoiding a massive spill of loose change on the floor. Adventurous as he orders a couple of beers and lets you show him your favorite game, Burger Time – a silly little maze game where you collect burger ingredients. Adventurous as he shows you his favorite game, which is pretty much any pinball machine known to man.

“Yours looks cooler than mine,” you huff, walking over to the pinball machine he’s playing once you abandon the one that was definitely broken. Or at least that’s how you justify so many consecutive, immediate losses. Charlie laughs and pulls back the plunger but doesn’t release, effectively pausing his game.

“You wanna try it?” Charlie ushers you in front of him and puts your hand on the plunger beneath his, careful not to release it in the process. “The key is anticipating where the ball will go. It’s all about patterns after a while.”

“Then why does it seem so random?” you ask, looking up at him over your shoulder.

“You just haven’t played enough yet. Over time you can predict what will happen if the ball hits a certain corner. Where it will go if it ricochets juuust right at the last second.”

“Sounds fake but I’ll let you prove it to me,” you say with a laugh, focusing your attention back on the machine.

“We’ll let go in one…two…three.” When you feel the pressure of his hand let up you let go as well, letting him guide both your hands immediately to the buttons on the side of the machine.

For as great as his theory of pinball predictability is, he probably underestimates your ability to suck. Because you do, hard. But you laugh the whole way through, and you never quit. Never turn to him in frustration asking to do something else or even to leave. Instead you keep feeding quarters into the machine and bringing your hands back under Charlie’s on the machine. And no matter how shitty you are, you always at least try to focus.

Charlie, meanwhile, is having a very hard time focusing on anything that isn’t your body. His hips bracket your ass in this helpful position he’s adopted, and he feels your pressure against his pelvis with every enthusiastic wriggle and little jump of frustration that you take in response to the game. When he makes the unfortunate mistake to look down over your shoulder at one point he’s met with a direct view of your cleavage, exposed as it is in your low-cut blouse. Charlie begins to sweat and it has nothing to do with how packed the arcade is or with the exertion of gaming. When he remembers that the arcade is also a bar, he excuses himself to get more beer, hoping that one will cool him off and cool him down.

You dazzle him with a smile thrown over your shoulder when he approaches with the two fresh bottles, and he’s not prepared for how the sight of your face almost knocks him back on his ass.

“Charlie! I did better this time!” He chuckles at your enthusiasm.

“Oh yeah?” he asks, handing you your beer which you sip gratefully.

“I lasted a few more minutes than last time,” you elaborate proudly. “So I’d say that means I now qualify as a pinball wizard.”

“Move over Elton John,” Charlie says with a smirk. You slap him in the shoulder and immediately engage him in a spirited discussion of whether the Elton John movie version of “Pinball Wizard” was better than The Who’s version from the original album. However, after a few minutes Charlie realizes he’s lost in thought. Lost in your voice. Lost in your expressions. Lost in you.

When it finally comes time to leave the arcade, the night drawing much later than it had on your previous nighttime date, Charlie’s scared he’ll be lost without you. The two of you walk together for a couple of blocks before you reach that similar intersection. The place where you part ways.

“I think we really turned around that formality thing, don’t you?” you ask him, turning to Charlie and leaning back against the column of a pedestrian sign. Charlie moves into your space, swallowing his hesitation.

“I don’t know, I began to feel a little unworthy when you ascended past the role of pinball wizard.”

“Oh did I get a promotion?” You ask, tipping your head back so you can look up at him as he steps closer.

“The word wizard conjures up images of wizened old man,” Charlie says dismissively, as if that clears up everything.

“So if you’re saying I don’t remind you of a wrinkled old Merlin – to which might I say, shocker – then what exactly is my new title.”

“One that fits you inside and out.” Charlie braces a hand against the column above your head, his other in his pocket. His head dips down so that it’s closer to your face despite your height difference. You feel warm despite the slight chill in the air.

“And that would be Pinball….?” you prompt.

“Goddess,” he completes the title before pressing his lips to yours. His hands remain on the column and in his pocket until you reach forward and grab a fistful of his sweater, pulling him to you. Then his hands are at your waist, pushing you back into the column. His tongue is in your mouth and your hands are in his hair and he can’t breathe. But he doesn’t want to. He wants to suffocate, wants to asphyxiate on you and the way he feels so tethered to this moment, this intersection, this place where you cannot part ways.

When you break apart to, in fact, breathe, your chest heaves and your smile is radiant.

“As far as kisses goodnight go, I’d say that was top tier,” you say on a laugh. Suddenly Charlie’s throat is constricting and he has to fight his facial muscles to keep from frowning as his hands tighten on your waist.

“That wasn’t a kiss goodnight. Not yet.”

“Any longer and it’ll be a kiss good morning, sir. Have you seen the time?” Your tone is joking. You call people ‘sir’ all the time. It’s a weird quirk of yours, like calling someone dude or pal. But Charlie can feel himself choking on the word, as well as the implications of a ‘kiss good morning.’ All of a sudden he feels like if he could have only one more thing before dying, that’s what he’d ask for. But then he kicks himself internally for being so fucking dramatic and he fiddles with the hem of your shirt.

“Exactly. It’s late.

You survey him from under your eyelashes with a small smile.

“I’ve made this walk many times.”

“It’s dark.”

“I’ve made this walk in the dark many times.”

“I’ll feel better if you let me walk you home.”

Charlie’s heart clenches. Before he can overthink, you’ve ducked out of his hold, grasped his hand and started pulling him down the street.

“C’mon Charlie, hurry up. You’d keep a goddess waiting?” you toss back at him over your shoulder. But in truth it was taking all of Charlie’s self control and the fact that he didn’t know the way to your place to keep him from throwing you over his shoulder and breaking into a full sprint.

~*~

Your place is exactly like you. Eclectic, warm, inviting. There is a moment, as you pull off your coat and turn away to place it and Charlie’s on a coat rack, when Charlie feels much too big for the space. Like he’s some kind of giant invading the home of a sweet little wood nymph. But then his little wood nymph is grabbing him by the front of the shirt and dragging him to a bedroom and the worries fade right out the window.

At first Charlie is gentle with you. His hands ghost over your body as you kiss him beside your bed. When you push him to sit down on the edge of the mattress and step between his open legs to kiss him with a different height dynamic his heart just about jumps clear out of his chest. He hasn’t done this – hasn’t touched or been touched – in so long. The affair had been transactional, just the mechanical motions of sexual gratification. Sex with Nicole, before it stopped, had been even colder, almost as if she had been begrudgingly completing some unwelcome chore.

You, however, are like fire beneath Charlie’s fingers. Your skin, your lips – everything is so warm it feels like you’re too hot to touch. But Charlie would rather risk burning up than to not become accustomed to the feel, the shape, the substance of you. He smooths over your body with a reverential softness, his muscles tense with restraint so as to keep from accidentally pushing you too far too fast. To keep from handling the way that, deep down, he desperately needs.

When your lips suddenly leave his, his brow furrows in frustrations. Before he can open his eyes a soothing finger smooths the furrow away, sliding down the bridge of his nose to press against his kiss-swollen lips. Charlie opens his eyes with a question present in them and you cock your head to the side.

“You’re tense. Like you’re holding back.” The statement isn’t accusatory but it isn’t a question. Charlie takes a shaky breath, unsure about how much he should say. Would his desperation read as too dramatic? Too undesirable? Would his enthusiasm come across as pushy or dominating? His brow must furrow again because your hand moves back up, finger pressing out the wrinkles. He shrugs.

“It’s been…a while for me. I didn’t want to come across as too…much.”

You laugh then and yet again Charlie is struck by how strange it is that you can laugh in his face directly in response to something he’s said without making him feel like you are laughing at him.

“I’m not made of glass. You won’t break me, Charlie.”

“You’re sure about that?” Charlie huffs out with a little chuckle. You give him a smirk and say your next words up against his lips.

“Try me.”

You probably were expecting him to require more cajoling. You probably were expecting him to gradually ease into something more. But Charlie takes you by surprise, grabbing you and pulling you onto the bed with him, rolling so that you’re laid out beneath his body, all the while maintaining hungry possession of your mouth. His body finds its place between your legs and you gasp at the feeling of how huge he is. How hard and insistent against your softness. He drinks from you like a man whose thirst can not be quenched. His hands find purchase on your waist and he squeezes. So hard you’re sure you’ll bruise. You smile against his mouth with the realization that you look forward to watching them bloom later.

Since Charlie seems too preoccupied with groping and making out with you, it is you who eventually takes the next step, beginning to pop open the buttons on your blouse one by one. When Charlie feels the motion of your hands between your bodies he ultimately pulls back to investigate, mouth dropping open at the slow reveal of the lingerie you’re wearing beneath. His hand shoots out to caress the delicate lace of your bra, teasingly not applying any pressure to the breast beneath.

“Do you wear things like this often?” Charlie’s voice is already rough as he asks this. You shrug.

“Whenever I want to feel sexy.”

“You wanted to feel sexy while out with me?” Charlie asks, lifting an eyebrow.

“You made me feel sexier than the lace, Mr. Barber,” you say with a smile before leaning up to capture his lower lip between your teeth. He groans and moves to practically swallow you whole. You’re entirely foreign to him. Enthusiasm, amusement, and enjoyment bundled up into one devastatingly sexy package. There’s no shame in your movements, no angst in your eyes. Just humor. Only an unabashed pursuit of pleasure. And if it’s pleasure you want, it’s pleasure you’ll get.

Charlie now aids you in the process of removing the rest of your garments, so it goes much quicker. When you move to pull off your bra, however, he catches your wrist in his massive hand.

“No…can these stay on?” Your eyebrows shoot up but you notice the way that Charlie is gazing at you with eyes slightly hazy and tongue running over his lips.

“This doing it for you, Charlie?” you tease, shimmying a bit. Charlie’s answer is sincere regardless as he dips his head down to sample the plush skin at the line of your cleavage.

“You have no idea.”

“So you’re a lingerie man, huh?” When you ask he stops to think for a second because, truly, he had never considered himself that way before. He’d never had any reason to. Sure lingerie models in magazines were hot, but it’s not a specific fantasy he’d ever explored previously.

But the sight of you here, strategically covered in lace and laid out beneath him pretty as a picture has him so hard he feels like a teenager unable to control himself. So, as you had urged him, he doesn’t.

“I might be. But really, I’m just enamored by these tits.” His teeth sink into your flesh and you sigh, especially when his tongue comes out to lave warmly at the spot. He moves down your body then, peppering kisses to the exposed skin of your stomach, sliding until your inner thighs rest against the sides of his face and his hands dip below you to squeeze your ass. “Although I feel like this might end up being my favorite part.” He says this last part directly into your clothed cunt, his lips just barely ghosting over the fabric with his words.

You wiggle a bit in his grasp, loving the answering way his fingers dig into your soft flesh. Your fingers card into his lush hair, tugging lightly at the roots, a feeling that shoots through his body and straight to his rock hard member. The way he discretely ruts against the mattress in response does not go unnoticed by you, so you drop a hand under his chin to tip his face back up to look at you.

“Will you fuck me, Charlie?” Your voice is clear and bright. Not playing coy and requiring any convincing. Just asking for something you want. And the hunger in your eyes seems unmistakable, though it still feels to good to be true. Charlie drops his gaze back down to the wet spot forming in your panties before looking back up and practically pouting.

“I’d like to taste you,” he counters. A brilliant smile breaks out across your face at the sound of that but you shake your head.

“There’ll be time for that later,” you argue, tugging on his shoulder to get him back on top of you. “If you don’t get inside me right now I’ll die.”

Charlie almost misses that last part because he’s still stuck on the first part. There’ll be time for that later. The possibility of later squeezes at Charlie’s hard and it’s only after a few echoing seconds that he’s able to process the rest of your statement with a delayed, choking laugh.

“Is someone getting dramatic on me?”

“Not yet, but I will if - ”

“If I don’t get inside you?” Charlie completes the statement in the exact moment a hand drops between your thighs and presses against the soaked fabric covering your slit. You inhale sharply.

“Exactly.”

“I didn’t take you for someone who was pushy in bed,” Charlie says good naturedly, swiping his fingers up the line of you to end with a swirl over where he assumed – correctly – your clit was. You tilt your pelvis to maximize his pressure before surging up to kiss him long and hard.

“I’m actually not. Not really,” you say breathlessly when you finally pull away and drop back down onto the pillows. You stretch luxuriously, almost like a kitten in the sun under his piercing gaze, the movement of your hips bumping his hand to rub you even better. Running your hands up and down the big, strong arms that cage you in and support him, you kiss his shoulder. “I’ve been hoping you would be.”

Suddenly your wrists are being pinned down above your head by one of Charlie’s hands. He’s got your legs open wide with his body sinking against you, hard and heavy.

“Pushy? You want me to be pushy?”

You grin big and wide at him.

“Yeah. Take charge like I know you want – oh!” You’re cut off by the welcome sensation of stimulation as Charlie’s hand drops inside your panties to slide around in your waiting slick. Without the barrier of the fabric between you, the feeling of your velvety slipperiness is enough to make him loose a growl.

He’s not hesitating and he’s not teasing anymore. Charlie has been waiting for this moment. He’s been waiting to care. Been waiting to feel. And what’s heightening the experience even more is the look on your face, the way your lips are parted and the way you gaze up at him longingly, expectantly. Providing all the evidence he needs to prove that you want this too. He wants you and you want him – what a novel idea. There are no angles or obligations, but also no shame or secrecy.

“Well if you wanted me to take charge you should have said so earlier,” he says, the corner of his lip quirking a bit as he dips two fingers inside your soaking cunt, not bothering to start with one. You gasp at the sudden intrusion. The stretch is a lot, but it is everything. Charlie sees the enjoyment register on your face, discomfort melting away almost immediately, and he begins to pull them slowly in and out to massage your walls.

“Maybe – ahh – maybe I should have,” you reply.

“Should I have caused a scene in the arcade?”

“Yes – fuck!” During an inward thrust Charlie curls his fingers up this time, rubbing against that spot in your upper wall that previous guys barely even knew was there. Before you know it he’s adding a third finger and you’re beside yourself. Charlie is elated to see how easily your body responds to his ministrations, how free you are with your reactions. He leans to down to suck a mark over your collar bone while his thumb meets your clit in tandem with his other thrusting fingers.

“You knew what you were doing when you kept rubbing that pretty little ass back into me while I taught you pinball.” His words rumbling against the skin of your throat.

“You made it so easy.”

“And you made it so hard,” Charlie counters, humor very present in his voice. You gasp out a laugh and try to tug your wrists from his grasp, but he doesn’t let you. Just keeps you pinned down as he continues to finger fuck you nice and slow.

“So impatient. I should have known. You’ve been impatient all night, haven’t you?” You whine out affirmations and screw your eyes shut as the pressure starts to build to a crescendo. Charlie picks up speed, his voice growing deeper as he continues. “Wanted me to fuck you on the pinball machine in front of everyone, didn’t you?”

You gasp and toss your head back against the pillows at that, hips bucking involuntarily. Charlie’s nose glides along the perimeter of your jaw, breathing in the scent of you as you fall apart. He’s never felt so powerful as he does with the feeling of your muscles tensing up under his fingertips. Never had the inspiration or audience for such language, but as you shiver and respond to his words, a surge of pride fills him and all he wants to do is dangle you over the edge over and over again.

“Charlie…” His name is a whimper when it falls from your lips. You’re so close. He feels it. So he pushes his fingers deep inside you, curling up with the motion, just as he sweeps one, two, three final circles into the throbbing bud of your clit.

You crest and you break against the tide of your orgasm, plummeting down from such heights you didn’t know you could reach from simple fingering. But there’s nothing simple about Charlie, the man who had been broken and put back together, only to find you, the universe’s overly generous reward for his perseverance.

Charlie’s slightly (unfocused) eyes focus on your heaving chest as you finally descend from the orgasm, but you’re the one to break the spell. Impatient is the perfect way to describe you as you wrap your legs around his middle and hook your ankles to trap him against you. You lunge up to arrest his mouth in a kiss. It’s sloppy, but just enough to distract him so that you can pull your wrists from his grasp. Once free you push him gently to the side so that you’re both rolling over, mouths still attached. He comes to rest on his back with you straddling him.

Charlie blinks up at you, taking in the way your breasts bounce in their bra cups as you busy yourself with the task of removing his clothes. He hadn’t even realized he was still in them until you began unbuttoning and pulling and pushing. Your impatience is clear once again in the way you divest him of the frustratingly excessive material and he finally gets the memo that he should help you.

With his pants and underwear pulled off and discarded, as well as the button up shirt that you had come to love as his signature look, you rest your palms flat on the plane of his chest. You’re still in your lingerie, as he had requested, only it is now beautiful askew. Your breasts now strain out of the cups, having been jostled into almost spilling out with your change of position. Your panties are sopping wet and stretched from his vigorous fingering and the evidence of your orgasm.

You’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

But you become even more beautiful when you wrap your hand around his aching cock, lifting up on your knees as you do so. Your fists slides up and down, up and down and he watches it, mesmerized, until you lean forward to catch his eye.

“What should I do, Charlie?”

Your face is soft and open. You’re asking for him to continue taking the lead. And Charlie realizes right then and there that he will never want to disappoint you. Snapping out his daze he lets his fingers dig into your flesh where his hands curl around your hips.

“Sit down on my cock, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart.

The term of endearment is so sugary. He’s called his son that, but never a lover, casual or otherwise, and never during the first time. Your face, however, lights up and you do as you’re told, sinking down onto his long, hard length. The impact draws a moan from both of your throats followed by gasped phrases spoken over one another.

“You’re so big!”

“You’re so tight!”

You both laugh at the overlap but laughter turns to groans as you roll your hips experimentally. After a few moments of this, it appears that Charlie becomes the impatient one finally.

“Ride me,” he spits through gritted teeth. Your nails imprint half moons in his skin as you clench at his tone, not quite hearing the words. Charlie sucks air through his teeth at the squeeze.

“What?”

“Ride me. I need you to fucking ride me.” You can tell that he’s trying to remain cool and collected, but his brow is furrowed and his bottom lip is caught between his teeth.

So you do as he says. You lift up and drop down, feeling the length of his cock slide through your sheath with a speed that you set, establishing a rhythm that has your toes curling. You let out a particularly shameless moan and Charlie opens his eyes. They widen immediately upon seeing that you’re clutching and squeezing at your own breast with one hand while grabbing onto his hip to stabilize you with the other. The sight alone of your face, screwed up in pleasure, flips a switch in Charlie and suddenly he is thrusting up into you without mercy.

“Charlie!” you cry out, both from surprise at the increased jostling and from how tremendously good it feels.

“I should have fucked you in the arcade. I would have if I had known how good you feel.”

“I – oh fuckfuck – knew,” you barely get out. Charlie hoists you back so that he’s sitting up with his back against the headrest now. The position gives him more leverage and power so he can lift you up and down his cock, bouncing you now with a rhythm that vibrates through your entire being.

“What was that, sweetheart?” Charlie asks, engulfing one of your breasts in his huge hand. The added sensation is perfect, but not quite enough. You wonder if you can coax more.

“I knew you would feel good.” You reach down to the base of his cock, encircling it as much as possible with it’s girth, and fisting upward just as he pulls you up, therefore maximizing the squeeze on his length. Charlie inhales abruptly and drops you back down.

“Little Miss Know-it-all, are you?” His voice is harsh and it sends a thrill throughout your body. Before you can respond, you’re pushed and yanked around, losing your grip with the motion.

“What - ?” Charlie’s hand on your throat quiets you. Not because he’s truly squeezing, but because the solid warmth of his hand causes you to squeak your way to silence. His adjustments now find you pulled up to the edge of the bed, legs spread and pushed back, with Charlie standing between them. Bent over, he grounds himself with one hand on your throat and one on your hip, positioning his tip back at the entrance to your weeping cunt. You expect him to slam his hips forward, to impale you with his cock, but he pauses with the swollen head just inside your folds.

“This okay?”

This power and control, the way he is manipulating your body for your pleasure and his own – he loves it. It’s so new and yet something he now wonders how he ever did without. But he also feels the need to check in and make sure that you’re still with him. The nod you give, the sparkle in your eye, and the quirk of your lips is all it takes to convince him and then he is plowing forward, slamming himself back in again and again. You let out a full throated moan and Charlie revels in the way your eyes roll all the way back.

He wonders what else will make you do that. What else will make your eyes roll back and your toes curl and your teeth sink into your bottom lip? He wonders, as his hand presses softly into the contours of your throat, what it would feel like to squeeze a little harder, and if the pressure would make you even more desperate for him. He wonders if you like a little pain with your pleasure, as he has long suspected he might enjoy, though has never truly had the chance to confirm.

But there will be time for that.

So now, he does his best to focus in on the sounds you release. Sounds of delight and surprise and sensual thrill. He coaxes you to your second climax and you don’t fight it. You don’t demure or wait for him or hesitate. Instead you unapologetically allow yourself to get lost in the pleasure he’s built for you, seizing and quaking beneath him without shame.

The sight and feeling are so beautiful he can’t help but follow soon after, pulling out and allowing releasing all over the bra and panties you had so generously left on for him. The sight of his seed landing on the delicate lace, as you lay beneath him fucked out and smiling, causes another tremor to rock through him, and he finds that he’s still cumming long after he usually would have finished.

Charlie finds himself in a daze in the immediate aftermath of his release. He looks around for something to clean you with, and when you notice you point out a box of tissues on the desk. After he’s done his best to wipe you up, you give him a kiss on the cheek. The mundane intimacy of the act makes him blush all the way to the hidden tips of his ears. It is absurd because you had just had sex, however the press of your lips to his skin seemed to seal the deal. This was not transactional. It was something more, Charlie can’t help but think to himself as you get up from the bed and skip to the bathroom.

In your absence Charlie again registers the smallness of your room. How large – out of place, maybe – he is amongst your delicate things. He pulls on his underwear and sits back down on the mattress, unsure.

Unsure about your expectations. Unsure about whether or not you’d want him to leave. Or stay.

Before he can make a decision in either direction you are bounding back into the room, a smile on your face. Your face is freshly washed and you’re in a faded, oversized tank top, having divested yourself of your abused lingerie. Charlie swallows at the sight of your breasts, free and outlined beneath the soft fabric. He adjusts his hands in his lap. No need to let you see him getting worked up again so soon like some horny teenager. You don’t seem to notice, instead slipping easily into bed beside him, shimmying under the covers and patting the space beside you so that he does the same.

So stay he will.

Once you’re both comfortable and situated, you slide into his arms, drawing them around your body without a question or seemingly a second though. Much like the way you’d slid into his life, Charlie thinks ruefully, nuzzling his face into the top of your head as you tuck in beneath his chin.

“Charlie?”

“Hm?”

“I know you always go to that diner on 15th for breakfast,” you begin, and Charlie’s heart spasms. Both at the thought of breakfast with you and the fact that you so casually know details about him. About his likes and his habits. He pulls you in a little tighter and nods his head.

“Yeah?”

“Would you mind if I show you a new place in the morning? I think you’ll really like it.”

And Charlie laughs. Because of course you’d want to push him out of his comfort zone. It’s what you do – push him to try new things. Push him to do things he wouldn’t usually consider. Push him to be the man he’d been working so hard for the past year to be.

“Yes, but I’m not changing the way I order my eggs,” he grumbles with humor, kissing the crown of your head. “Not yet.”

~*~

The next morning you order first, and you’ve never had breakfast with Charlie before, so when he asks for the same dish, you can’t possibly know that this is his first time ordering eggs Florentine.

As you both laugh and eat and sip coffee in the outdoor seating area of the quaint café you’d picked, fingers intertwined between you on the wrought iron table, you also can’t know that this is the happiest Charlie has felt in ages.

But he makes it his mission, right there and then, to do everything in his power to make you feel the same.

~*~

Tagging some lovely friends (please let me know if you would like to be tagged or untagged in the future!): @celestiasin @tlcwrites @noocturnalchild @thedivinemissn @insufferablelust @edencherries @historyandfandoms50 @lostinthedrive @thewilddingleberries @mariesackler @safarigirlsp @direnightshade @sacklerscumrag @clydesfavoritegirl @wayward-rose @hopeamarsu @barbers-glimmerin-darlin @finn-ray-nal-beads @fizzywoohoo @maybe-your-left @aliveandlonely @han-not-solo @mrs-zimmerman @maryforyou @jynzandtonic @renmaulxo @millenialcatlady @soggywhore @transparentmeoo @leia-suns @alpha-lobito

#paper-n-ashes #charlie barber x reader #charlie barber x you #Charlie Barber/reader #Charlie Barber/you #Charlie Barber fanfiction #Charlie Barber smut #marriage story fanfiction #Marriage Story smut #writing #smut #Roanniom #tw: unprotected sex #tw: choking

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detectivejigsawpines · 4 years ago

Text

Just a Normal Day

A short drabble about sea grunks having an average adventure, written in honor of their birthday.

Even before they got attacked by the Cthulhu beast, it had been a pretty average morning on the sea for the Pines twins.

Wake up at the crack of dawn (Ford) or closer to late morning (Stan); eat breakfast; reset the spell to ward off the vengeful leprechauns who might still be after them for stealing their treasure in case they’d figured out they were chasing a decoy trail by now; do a little late morning fishing, while keeping an eye out for that golden fish Stan was sure he’d seen swimming under their boat last week, and which he was hoping laid golden fish eggs or something; finally notice what time it was (Stan) and head inside to make lunch.

Just another normal day.

Stan was examining their supplies, trying to decide if it was worth breaking out some of the canned hamburger meat and throwing together sloppy Joes instead of making them eat fish again, when he was knocked skiwampus by the boat being yanked to a halt; as he struggled to regain his balance by grabbing onto the table, a vicious, blood-curdling roar came rumbling through the air from outside.

Stan sighed, and wondered if the kraken was back. In one swift motion he grabbed the spare harpoon they had hanging over the door, and stepped out to see if Ford needed help dealing with it.

It wasn’t the kraken.

It still looked like some kinda big octopus monster, though, with a mass of writhing tentacles where its face should be, and a bulbous head in the back just like an octopus body. The rest of it, at least as far as the torso, was kinda like a human’s but a little bigger (about the size of a baby whale), with slimy-looking green-brown skin and a pair of big, wrinkled, wet wings sticking out of its back. Whatever this thing was, it had grabbed onto the back of their boat, and was looming menacingly over Ford as Stan stepped outside.

“...and you are now my prisoners!” he bellowed, as his piercing golden eyes landed on Stan. “Surrender your weapons now, puny mortals, and I might be merciful!!!!”

“Yeesh, did we trespass on his territory or something?” Stan asked, leaning on the harpoon.

Ford shrugged with one shoulder, since he was trying to write in his journal at the same time. “He didn’t really say; he just jumped onboard and started threatening me.”

“Huh.” Stan looked up at the beast. “You the lord of this part of the ocean or whatever?”

The beast blinked-which looked pretty weird, his eyelids went sideways instead of up and down like humans-before nodding vigorously. “Yes! I am the lord of this part of the ocean, and you must surrender to me now, or else suffer my wrath!!!!” He slammed a fist down against the side of the boat, making it rock up and down so hard he had to scrabble to keep his balance. Stan coughed into his fist to hold back a snicker.

Ford tilted his head. “I could have sworn this was still the primary territory of the Manatee-Merfolk Alliance. Are you sure you haven’t made some kind of mistake?”

“What part of prisoners did you not understand?!” the beast demanded, spreading out his wings and shaking them as his tentacles writhed angrily. “Give up your weapons, now-all of them!!!!”

“...You sure you want that? It’s kind of gonna take awhile-”

“NOW, or I crush your boat in my mighty fist!!!!”

Stan glanced at Ford, who rolled his eyes and nodded. With a small sigh, they began disarming themselves.

********

...A minute passed and they were still at it.

Ford’s pile of weapons was almost as tall as he was, mostly consisting of long-range weapons like guns, but with a few vials of poisons and some handcuffs thrown into the mix.

Stan’s pile was more proportionate, but the number of places that weapons were produced from (including a smoke bomb that he’d somehow managed to keep tucked under his beanie) was frighteningly impressive.

The monster watched their progress with increasingly wide eyes; finally, as Stan produced another set of brass knuckles out of a secret pocket sewn onto the inside of his coat, he spluttered, “...Where were you keeping those?”

Stan just grinned shamelessly. “Trust me, sunshine, you don’t wanna know.”

“Okay, I think that’s everything,” Ford said at last, indicating the pile of weaponry.

“Yeah, well, I’m still workin’, gimme a minute.” Stan produced a switchblade, and tossed it onto his pile. Then, in a brief sleight of hand, he snatched another one from the pile and pretended to draw it out of his coat to toss it on next. “Hey, tentacles-face-ya think you could bring us back by Wednesday? We got a Zoom appointment ta keep, and our niece and nephew hate it when we’re late.” Another sleight of hand allowed him to scoop up another weapon.

“That’s not how this-now see here!” The monster drew himself up to his full height, nearly falling backwards off the boat. “You guys-you puny mortals are my prisoners! And as such, you need to understand that this is not a joking matter! I could squash you both like sea slugs if I wished! I’m all-powerful, an eons-old abomination whose very name would send you into madness if spoken aloud! So you better start quaking in fear and begging for mercy like proper captives!!!!”

Stan looked at Ford. “Sounds like we’re his first.” He looked back at the monster. “You’re doin’ great, buddy-good job on the whole threatening schtick.” He offered a thumbs-up, while using the other hand to snag another weapon that he pretended to produce from another hiding spot.

Ford winked at him, and looked back at their ‘captor.’ “Is this some sort of coming-of-age ritual for your species?” He produced his journal again, pen poised. “Very clever move, by the way, threatening our boat to get us to disarm ourselves. In the future, though, I would suggest that you try taking one of us hostage first, in order to create maximum-”

“STOP IT!”

The monster abruptly started pounding his fists against the side of the boat, nearly tipping it over before instead pitching him all the way onto the deck. “YOU’RE NOT SUPPOSED TO BE LIKE THIS! YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO-I’M YOUR-IT’S NOT FAIR-!”

It took Stan a moment to realize that the angry noises leaving his mouth (?) were accompanied by the sound of frustrated sobs.

He hissed through his teeth, and shot Ford a guilty look.

“...Oh boy. Looks like we got a little one here.”

********

Stan crossed the boat and crouched down in front of the weeping monster, putting a hand on his back and rubbing the spot right between his wings.

“Deep breaths, in and out. You’re not gonna get anything done like this, so just take a bit ta calm down, okay?”

The monster hiccuped and coughed, shrinking in on himself in a way that was painfully familiar to both of them.

Ford knelt down at his other side. “Maybe if you tell us why this is so important to you, we can provide some assistance?”

The monster shook his head and buried his head in his arms. “I just wanted-hic-to show my friends I could catch the Pines twins all by myself,” he croaked.

The two old men looked at each other in a mixture of surprise and slight alarm. “...You know who we are?”

That was finally enough to get him to sit up, wiping his eyes with his tentacles. “You kidding? Every creature of the seas knows who you are! You’re the guys who beat up krakens and steal gold from leprechauns and then you and your boat vanish without a trace! You’re the coolest cryptids ever!”

It took both of them a moment to digest that. By the time they did, though, they were grinning in equal delight.

“We’re cryptids?!” Ford asked, eyes practically brimming over with overjoyed tears.

“Yeah! And people at school were sayin’ you’re just a myth, but I knew you were real cuz my uncle saw your ship up in the Arctic last winter, and I was gonna capture you and bring you to class to show everyone how wrong they were and then I’d be famous and they’d stop calling me a weird runt all the time!” After a second his wings drooped, and he stared miserably down at the deck. “...Guess it was pretty dumb of me to think I could catch you all by myself.”

Stan put a hand on his shoulder. “...Kid...as much as we wanna help, we can’t just be your prisoners. We got our own lives ta get back to.”

“Plus, neither of us is able to breathe underwater,” Ford added.

The monster sighed, and pulled a strip of kelp from around his neck, turning one of the leaves until it was facing him. He squirted a stream of black ink from one of his tentacles, and dipped the tip of another one into the ink and used it to trace something that looked like a bunch of gobbledygook to Stan onto the leaf. “Humans...don’t...breathe...underwater.”

Awww...he’s a super nerd, just like Ford and Dipper!

That gave Stan an idea.

“Hey.” He nudged the monster. “What about a picture of us instead? Along with genuine proof of a close encounter?”

The monster’s head jerked up. “A picture?! Like with one of those weird magic boxes you humans carry around sometimes?!”

“That’s the one.” Stan grinned. He looked at Ford and jerked his head towards the cabin; his brother took the hint and headed for it, returning with an antique Polaroid camera that Ford had been experimenting on, but still took good pictures.

The monster’s tentacles began writhing around his face like they’d come to life, and he let out a high-pitched squeal of excitement.

“This is the greatest day of my life!!!!”

********

It took a bit of staging and directing and trying out different angles, but eventually they produced a set of photos that appeared to be of an eldritch abomination in training being attacked by, and bravely fighting off, the ferocious monster hunter Pines twins (hopefully nobody would think to ask how and why the monster had managed to get these pictures taken).

Then, while Stan took them into the cabin and soaked them in a special substance Ford had invented that would render them waterproof, Ford sat on the prow next to the young cryptid enthusiast and offered tips on future hunting adventures, comparing notes with him on some of the creatures they’d both seen. He also (with permission) took a few samples from the monster, including a long strip of skin (“Make it look like a wound I got in the fight! Man, this is gonna be so cool, Yog-Sothoth is gonna eat his heart out! Possibly literally!”) and some of the ink from his tentacles.

When Stan came back with the photos, he also handed over one of his spare brass knuckles that had lost a corner. “Have another souvenir, kid.”

The monster’s tentacles lashed out and wrapped around their faces in what felt like a really weird version of a hug before pulling away, leaving them covered in some of the slimy stuff they were coated in.

“Thank you so much! I really really hope the leprechauns don’t catch you-if they come this way I’ll make sure to eat some of them so they won’t!” He waved at them joyfully as he dived back into the ocean and disappeared.

********

After a moment Stan wiped his face on his coat sleeve.

“...Well, that happened.”

He turned away and began gathering up his weapons.

“Such a strange mixture of childlike innocence and barbarity,” Ford mused as he pulled out a jar and gathered the slime into it for yet another sample. “His culture must be fascinating-I almost wish he would have taken us with him so I could have seen it.”

“You would’ve drowned before you could gather any data.”

“...You don’t know that.”

“He literally didn’t know that humans can’t breathe underwater, Sixer. Not gonna happen.”

He ignored Ford’s sulking and kept cleaning, while musing to himself over the possible monetary opportunities being a couple of cryptids could bring...

#gravity falls #sea grunks #stan pines #ford pines #cthulhu doesn't stand a chance #stan just adopting everyone #humor #and fluff (sort of)#drabble ish

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bonnyskies · 4 years ago

Text

come back to me [eighteen] ⇢ jjk

you’re willing to do anything to save your marriage, even if that meant you’d have to sacrifice your own happiness to do so.

pairing — husband!jungkook x malereader, ft. ceo!jaehyun

genre — angst, sexual themes, idol au, exes to lovers-ish au, open relationship au, marriage au, parents au

series warnings — infidelity (kinda?), swearing, bisexual!jungkook, jealous!jungkook, insecure!reader, unhealthy relationship, unrequited love-ish, slow burn, use of alcohol, mentions of divorce problems, (more could be added in future chapters)

word count — 3.2k

author’s note — judging from how this story is progressing, there’ll be two more chapters before the epilogue.

masterlist

Jungkook couldn’t hear anything.

He couldn’t hear his two hyungs calling out his name, asking him what’s wrong, or even his son who stood right beside him, grasping and tugging on the sleeves of his jacket with a pout on his lips, wondering what was the reason for this father’s sudden change in behavior.

His world, the one that he has been trying to rebuild from scratch was slowly tearing apart and crashing down all around him once again.

Both Namjoon and Jimin glanced at each other before staring at the younger member with worry. Neither of them have ever seen him act like this before, and that was concerning because even when you two were going through the process of finalizing your divorce he didn’t behave this way.

“Jungkookie,” came out of Jimin’s mouth as he took a seat beside the maknae on the couch. “You’ve got to tell us what’s wrong if you want us to help you.”

Again, Jungkook was silent— at least, that was until Jimin nudged him at his side, breaking him out of his thoughts. “S-Sorry, what do you say?”

“What’s wrong?”

This time, it was Namjoon who spoke up, standing in front of the two members with his arms crossed over his chest and staring down at them with an intent gaze in his eyes.

Jungkook opened his mouth, but stopped himself from answering when turning his head and seeing his son still standing right beside him. “Bubs,” he then speaks up. “Can you go wait in the living room while I talk with your samchons? You can play on my phone.”

“Okay, appa...” Minho seemed hesitant at first, but obeyed nonetheless, taking his father’s phone and leaving without saying another word.

“Are you finally going tell us what’s wrong, now?” Jimin asks once Minho was out of the room, and when he did, the two members fell into silence. Now they understood why the young maknae was such a trembling mess when coming back from checking who was at the door.

Nobody knew what to say, only Namjoon spoke up after a few seconds of tensed silence between them three. “When are you going to tell ___?”

The moment Jungkook heard that question he shot up from the couch with wide eyes and shook his head vigorously. “I-I’m not!”

“What?” Jimin’s eyes widened, gaping at him. “You have to tell him, Jungkook.”

“I-I can’t, hyung. You don’t understand,” continuing shaking his head, Jungkook tried to say without stuttering but failed. “If I tell him about this then it’s over, we’re done and I lose him forever.”

“But keeping this from him is wrong—”

“I just can’t!” Jungkook suddenly snaps, surprising both him and the two other members. “I-I’m so close to getting him back, hyung.” Heavy tears glistened in his brown eyes as he stared at the two of them. “He said that this is my last chance to make things right between us, so if he learns about this then it’s over. I’ll lose him for good this time.”

When the thought of losing you crossed his mind, the tears that Jungkook tried so hard to keep inside of him escaped and slid down his cheeks.

“A-And, I can’t lose him hyung,” he was now fully sobbing at his point, loud cries coming out of his mouth as he collapsed back onto the couch and shoved his face into the palm of his hands. “Not when I’m so close to getting him back—to getting my family back.”

“Jungkook,” sighing, Namjoon sat down beside him and wrapped his arm comfortingly around his shoulders. “I know you’re scared—but isn’t lying and keeping secrets what got you two here in this situation in the first place?”

And when Jungkook slowly nodded, face still covered by his palms he continued. “If you start lying and keeping secrets again, then it doesn’t matter if you two fix things—because everything will be revealed sooner or later. Secrets never stay hidden forever.”

Jungkook sniffled, remaining silent.

“He’ll understand, Jungkook.” Jimin spoke up, taking a seat on the other side of him and placed a comforting hand on his thigh. “___ loves you so much, you two will get through this—together.”

“You know,” raising his head up from his hands, Jungkook wiped the remaining tears that stained his face. “When ___ told me that he was giving me another chance I was so happy. My heart was racing nonstop and the smile on my face was so wide that my jaw even started to ache.”

Jungkook then sighed, glancing down and staring at his conjoined hands, the grip he had on himself being tight enough to where his knuckles were starting to turn white. “I thought everything would be perfect once we got back home, and it has been. He let me move back into the house, and we’re even planning to have dinner together tonight as a family. But that all came to shit when Yeonha came and told me—” he stopped, feeling another sob coming up his throat and more tears stinging his eyes.

“I could see him, you know.” Jungkook continued, “When Yeonha told me, I could visually picture ___ in front me, crying and hitting me, forcing me to sign my name on our divorce papers—the ones that he has signed already, and—” he paused, this time not being able to stop himself from crying. “I can’t lose him, hyung. I can’t, I can’t, I can’t...”

Jungkook kept repeating those two words as bawled until Jimin wrapped his arms around him and pulled him to his chest. “I know that this is hard Jungkookie, but being honest is the best way to go about this. Lying will only make things worse between you two.”

Jungkook sighed, nodding and using the sleeve of his jacket to wipe the stray tears that were still streaming down his face. He knew he was right.

“I-I’m just scared, hyung...”

“—hey, are you alright?”

Jungkook’s eyes instantly tore away from his plate at the sound of your concerning voice, gaze falling on your worried expression. Jungkook quickly nodded his head and spewed out a weak, “Y-Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Are you sure,” you continued to question. “You’ve not spoken a word since you got home.”

“S-Sorry, I’m just tired that’s all.” Jungkook attempted to dismiss the topic but when staring at your expression, he knew that he couldn’t escape it any longer.

“You know you can tell me anything, right?” Reaching across the table, you gently placed your hand over his, unaware of how his heart skipped a beat from your touch.

Jungkook stared at you, eyes filled with many emotions that he was having trouble containing. Before saying anything, he glanced at Minho who sat silently between the two of you, playing with the few leftovers of cooked broccoli on his plate. “Hey bubs,” he spoke softly. “Can you please go to your room so that your appa and I can talk privately?”

Minho pouted, “But I want to stay and have family dinner with you two—”

“Please, bubs.” Jungkook begged, eyes softening.

You watched as your son then frowned but nodded nonetheless, standing up from his seat and pushing his chair in underneath the table. “Okay, appa.”

“I-Is everything alright,” came out of your mouth the moment you two were alone at the table, eyes filled with worry and concern.

Jungkook’s eyes glanced around everywhere except for your eyes, obviously trying to avoid your gaze—which only made the anxious feeling growing in the pit of your stomach grow even more.

“Jungkook,” you spoke up after a brief silence. “You’re worrying me, please say something.”

He couldn’t speak, tears were already starting to burn in his eyes and he couldn’t help but place his other hand over yours, tighten his grip on you—almost as if he was afraid you’d slip away if your hand slipped from his grasp.

“There is something that I have to tell you,” Jungkook started, eyes still refusing to meet your gaze. “And I-I don’t know how to say it.”

“And that is...?”

“Yeonha came to see tonight—” and that’s when your heart sunk into the depths of your stomach.

“W-We need to talk, Jungkook.”

“Yeonha, what are you doing here?” Jungkook asks again, holding the door slightly open to where the gap was only small enough to fit his head and half of his body.

“I-I heard you were back, and I needed to talk to you in person since you weren’t answering any of my calls—”

“That’s because I blocked you,” Jungkook interrupted her quite harshly, hands gripping onto the door’s handle tight enough to where his knuckles were turning slightly white. “You wouldn’t stop calling even after I kindly asked you not to. And yet,” taking a step forward, his eyes glared down at her. “You still chose to keep calling me, knowing I was on vacation with my family.”

“It was an emergency—”

“Emergency?!” Jungkook nearly laughed at her poor excuse, eyes rolling and a scoff falling from his mouth. “The first dozen of your calls was just of you crying, begging me to give you another chance...”

It was almost ironic that Yeonha was now in the same position as he was in with you before.

“But I’m telling you the truth, Jungkook.” Yeonha’s eyes were glistening with tears, hands laced together as she practically begged him to let her continue. “This is an emergency.”

“Then what is it then?” Jungkook asks, opening the door wider and standing in front of her with his arms crossed over this chest intimidatingly.

Yeonha’s eyes briefly glanced at the either side of her, taking in the empty hallway before turning back towards Jungkook. “Can I come in, please? What I’ve got to say is kind of...private.”

Jungkook sighed but opened the door wider, stepping aside so that she could enter the room before closing it behind her. “Alright,” he then leaned against the door, arms still resting across his chest as he stared at her. “Now, what do you have to tell me?”

“I’m pregnant...”

“W-What?” Jungkook’s eyes instantly widened and arms dropped down and became limp by his side. “You’re pregnant—how? We always used protection and you’re also taking birth control.” And when he only recieved only silence from her, his eyes hardened and hands clenched into fists. “You are taking birth control, right? You told me that you were.”

Yeonha was staring down at the ground, purposely avoiding his glaring eyes while playing with her fingers anxiously. “I may have forgotten to take them—this past month.”

“What the fuck, Yeonha?!” Jungkook shouted, lowering his voice immediately afterwards when remembering that his son and two hyungs were just down the hall in the studio—barely ten feet away from where they two stood right now. “What were you thinking—”

“I-I’m sorry,” trembling slightly and tears shining in her eyes, she took a step backwards. “I meant to refill my prescription, but I kept forgetting—”

The rest of her words were muffled out. Jungkook couldn’t breathe, his heart was racing and chest was aching. When hearing that she was pregnant, his mind instantly thought of you. He couldn’t believe this happening—not when everything was beginning to return to the way it used to be. He was finally moving back home to be with you and Minho, and you three are going to have dinner tonight as a family. Everything was slowly becoming perfect again.

No, he refused to believe any of this.

“You’re not pregnant,” came out of his mouth, not a single ounce of emotion in his voice.

“What?”

“You’re not pregnant.” Jungkook repeated with a much more serious tone, eyes glaring at her. “You’re lying about being pregnant because you think that it would make me stay with you, but it won’t.”

Yeonha’s eyes widened, disbelief on her face. “You think I’m lying,” and when he nodded she continued. “Here, you asshole.”

Jungkook watched as she reached inside her purse and pulled out a pregnancy test, tossing it at him which he caught with ease. Two lines. “No, no, this can’t real—”

“Wow,” laughing loudly, Yeonha rolled her eyes. “Even after seeing the proof yourself you still don’t believe me. Well guess what, honey? I am pregnant with your kid that is actually related to you.”

The moment Jungkook heard those words—related to you—the only thing he could see was red as he took slow, intimidating footsteps towards her until he was standing right in front of her, face inches from hers. “What the hell is that suppose to mean?”

Yeonha had to admit that seeing Jungkook this way was kind of frightening, but she still stood her ground. “What do you think? I’m pregnant with your kid, someone who is actually related to you, who has your blood running through their veins. Minho isn’t even yours! You and ___ just got him from some agency—”

“Don’t you fucking finish that sentence,” Jungkook seethed, eyes and nose flaring with pure rage as he stared at her. “Minho is my son. Yes, he might not have my blood or ___’s running through his veins but we were there when he was born. We were the ones that took him home from the hospital, who raised him, who taught of him how to walk and talk. He has my name, he’s my son no matter what, and nothing will change that.”

Yeonha could only chuckle and shake her head. “Whatever you say, but that won’t change the fact that I am the one carrying your real child.”

Jungkook was about to snap again, but the sound of another voice, this one being much lighter and softer interrupted him. “Appa?” Jungkook’s face paled, noticing his son standing in the hallway with his head sticking out from around the corner and staring at him.

“Hey bubs,” pushing past Yeonha, he knelt down in front of him. “What’s wrong? Why didn’t you with your samchons like I told you to do?”

“They started singing again and I got bored. When are we going home?”

“Right now,” lifting him into his arms, Jungkook glanced at Yeonha who was staring at him with a smirk on her lips. “Let’s just say goodbye to your samchons, okay?”

The last thing he saw before going back to the studio was Yeonha smirking at him, mouthing “see you later, handsome.”

“S-She’s pregnant.”

Jungkook couldn’t say anything. After explaining everything to you his eyes were shining with tears as well as yours.

“I-I don’t know what to say,” you mumbled out, eyes avoiding his and staring blankly at the dining table. You attempted to pull your hand away which resulted in him tightening his grip on you. That’s when you noticed the true emotions he hid behind his eyes—he was scared, terrified even. He was scared that if your hand slipped from his grasp, then that meant he lost you.

“I just want you to know that nothing is going to change—”

“It changes everything, Kookie,” you cut him off, raising your other hand to wipe the few stray tears that slipped from your eyes. “What are you going to do? Should we just get that divorce so that you can be with—”

Jungkook interrupted in an instant, shooting up from his seat and kneeling down in front of you. “No, we are not getting a divorce.”

“But what about Yeonha?” You couldn’t believe you were actually concerned about her, and yet, here you were. “My eomma was a single parent for most of my childhood, and I know how hard it can be for someone to raise a child alone. She needs someone there for her—”

“And I am going to be there for her,” Jungkook quickly cut in, “But I’m also not leaving you.”

You found yourself only able to nod, some sniffles escaping from your lips which made Jungkook slip his arms around your waist and pull you close to him, resting your head against his chest while his cheek was pressed gently on top of your head. “I’m sorry you’re going through this because of me. If you want, we can get a divorce. I’ll sign the papers without fighting you—”

“No,” you interrupted him, moving your hands so that they were now around his neck instead of his chest, pulling him closer to where there was no space in between you two. “I-I don’t know why I suggested that in the first place, I’m sorry...”

The thought of actually divorcing made a sour feeling in the pit of your stomach and you did not like it one bit.

Jungkook couldn’t help but chuckle, leaning down and pressing a gentle kiss on your forehead. “You don’t need to apologize, baby.”

“So what are you going to do?” You mumbled against his chest, shifting your face to nuzzle into his neck.

“Well, I’ll be going to go the doctor appointments with her,” Jungkook started, running his hands up and down your back soothingly while pressing multiple kisses along your forehead and cheeks. “And I’ll be paying for just about everything.”

You hummed in reply, eyes closed.

“But this doesn’t change anything between us,” Jungkook then adds, feeling your tensed figure against him.

“It changes everything, Jungkook.” You sighed, repeating the same exact words you said before. “She’s carrying your child.”

—or in other words, Yeonha will now be part of your guys’ life forever whether you want her to or not, and there wasn’t anything neither of you can do about it.

You didn’t have the strength to sleep.

Staring up at your bedroom’s ceiling, you couldn’t stop wondering how much your life is going to change now that Yeonha will be part of it—permanently. She’ll be around more, she’ll be around Jungkook, and Minho—

Oh god, your mind suddenly exclaimed. How are we going to explain this to Minho?

You couldn’t breathe, you needed someone—you needed him.

Just as you were about to get up from your bed, knocking was heard on the other side of the door. “___—” it was Jungkook. “Are you awake?”

“Yeah.”

“Can I come in?” He asks on the other side, his voice barely audible, careful not to wake Minho who was asleep just down the hall. You hummed in reply, loud enough for him to hear and the door opened right after, and the sight of him took your breath away. Jungkook stood there, only wearing a pair of grey sweatpants, chest fully exposed and showing off his mouth watering muscles and beautiful tattoos. “Can’t sleep?”

You found yourself only able to nod, not being able to tear your eyes away from his toned torso. “Can I sleep here?” You only nodded again, swallowing the lump building inside your throat.

You shifted to one side of the bed, giving him space to slip underneath the covers. You didn’t wait for him to be situated before cuddling up to his side, loosely draping your arm over his lower abdomen and resting your head against his chest. Jungkook became comfortable around you as well, moving his arms so that they were around you and holding you close to him.

“Jungkook,” you spoke up softly, eyes open and staring up at him. “We’re going to be fine, right?”

“Of course,” answering almost instantly, Jungkook leaned down and pecked your lips, chuckling at your flushed expression. “We’ve been through worse.” — nearly getting a divorce for that matter.

“Okay,” smiling up at him, you closed your eyes, finally feeling a sense of comfort flowing through you when being in his arms. “I love you.”

A single tear fell from his eyes, “I love you too.”

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paperpocalypse · 5 years ago

Text

pb & m.

50 Wordless Ways to Say “I Love You”: 4. Making their favorite meal when they are having a hard day.

Pairing: Five Hargreeves x Reader

Word Count: 2,749 words

Warnings: Referenced animal death/gore

“Are you sure he’s okay?”

Klaus sighs loudly, bringing his foot up to his face with practiced ease. “He’s probably just stewing over his training again,” the boy says, flexing his toes gingerly before blowing on his big toe. You purse your lips at his words, screwing the cap of black nail polish shut, and Klaus looks up at you from underneath his eyelashes. “It’s Five, [Y/n]. You should see him when you leave for the weekend. Total shut in.”

“But he hasn’t even come down for lunch or supper.” Setting the nail polish down, you tuck your knees up towards your chest, brow furrowing. “I mean, he doesn’t usually do that, does he?”

“I dunno. Sometimes!” Klaus exclaims, throwing his hands up. “You know, he talks all the time about what a mess I am, but he’s hardly more functional than me.”

You frown at him, eyes narrowing. “You don’t skip meals when I’m gone, do you?”

He waves you off. “Of course not. But that’s not the point. The point is, Five is a broody boy obsessed with his powers, so don’t be surprised if he wants to be alone for a day or a week.”

“He’s not a loner.”

“Well, he tries to be more sociable when you’re here.”

“No.” You pause, resting a cheek on one knee. “I’d still like him even if he wasn’t.”

Klaus just raises his eyebrows, sending another gust of air toward his toes.

The black and red stripes on his nails are settling quite nicely, but the success doesn’t make you as proud as it usually would. You chew your lip and look at the closed door. Normally, during this time in the late evenings, you wouldn’t be surprised if Five blinked through, supposedly to take back something Klaus had snuck from his room or to make sure neither of you “had died” – though you’ve always had the sneaking suspicion that he just wanted to hang out with you and Klaus, since he’d stay a little longer after confirming that you and Klaus were, in fact, still alive. No such visit tonight. In fact, you’ve barely seen him all day.

The thought dampens your mood quite a bit.

The next thing you know, Klaus propels himself to a stand.

“Where are you going?” you ask, blinking as he stretches and gives you a particular look.

“More like where are you going,” he replies, sighing. He grabs a hold of your wrist and starts tugging. “If you’re going to pine after Five all night, you might as well do something about it. Go … pop in and see what he’s up to.”

Break into Five’s room? Even though it’s tempting, you shake your head vigorously, ignoring the pining part. “You said he wanted to be alone. He might get mad at me.”

“He can’t get mad at you. He’d die of guilt.”

Klaus continues to pull on your arm until you’re sure it’ll come off if you stay on the floor. You give him an imploring look as you stand up, though the thought of checking up on Five is sounding more and more necessary by the second.

“Klaus –”

All the boy does is say your name right back as he throws the door open, nudging you outside into the dimly lit hallway. “Go have your quality time and come back when you’re done.”

“Are you sure –”

“He’ll be ecstatic. Especially if I’m not there.” And with that, Klaus shoos you off with a smile, closing the door.

Now alone, you look down the empty hallway, feeling mildly exposed and hoping that Five doesn’t come down the stairs right at this moment. There’s no doubt in your mind that you’re going to go up there, but … it’d make more sense if Klaus checked up on him, wouldn’t it? No matter how well you get along with Five, he and Klaus are brothers. They know each other a lot better than you probably ever will.

You should get him some food.

Inhaling sharply, you turn on your heel and make your way down the stairs, trying to make much less noise than you usually would – though you doubt anybody would care too much about a squeaking step, travelling through the Hargreeves mansion, especially down to the kitchen at night, still makes you wary of making your presence too big sometimes.

The air gets a bit chillier as you descend the last stretch of stairs leading to the basement, going faster as you get closer to the ground. Strangely, the lights in the kitchen are already on; you skip the last step and hurry through the gaping hole in the wall, curious.

Number Seven looks up from the table as you enter the kitchen, her surprised expression mirroring yours.

“Vanya?” you blurt.

She opens her mouth, then closes it, and you look down at the ingredients spread across the table. A jar of peanut butter, a half-finished bag of wonder bread. A bag of marshmallows – the mini ones used for rice krispies. Intrigued, you venture closer. You didn’t know Vanya had a sweet tooth.

(Suddenly, you realize that you don’t know much about her at all.)

“What are you doing down here?” you ask as you approach the table.

She looks at you, still a bit wide-eyed, then looks down at the slice of bread in her hand. “Um,” she starts, then pushes forward, “I was … Five missed dinner and lunch, so I was going to make him something to eat.”

“Really?” You beam, glad that she had the same idea. You could go together. “So was I. Mind if I help?”

For a moment, Vanya hesitates. But then she nods cautiously, smiling a little, and you give a thumbs up and head over to the utensil drawer. Opening it up, you take a moment to try to attract one of the butter knives to your hand, but after it does nothing more than quiver a bit, you sigh and pick it up with a finger.

“Five really likes peanut butter and marshmallow sandwiches,” Vanya explains when you walk back to the table. “They’re his favorite.”

“Really? I didn’t know that.”

You fetch a bread slice from the bag and set it on the cutting board, then, after peeking over at Vanya’s work, scoop up a big glob of peanut butter and slather it onto the bread. She sprinkles some marshmallows on top of hers and squishes another slice on top of the marshmallows. You follow her lead exactly. The minute or two that you spend making the sandwich are all wordless, very unlike when you and Klaus are together, but you find yourself enjoying them either way.

“Maybe we could bring him a drink, too? What do you think?” you ask.

She nods. “There’s apple juice in the fridge.”

—

The presentation isn’t anything fancy, but it gets the job done, and you get the task of carrying the cup of apple juice while Vanya holds onto the sandwiches.

“I hope it’s okay,” Vanya murmurs after she knocks on Five’s door, shifting on her feet.

Even though you’re wondering the same thing, you instinctively nod your head. “Don’t worry,” you whisper back. “We did a good job.”

She looks over at you out of the corner of her eye and manages a small smile in return. Right after that, the door opens.

You immediately feel a bit better upon seeing Five; however, the happiness gives way to concern when you see his expression.

Five looks at the two of you, then at the plate in Vanya’s hands and the cup in yours, before speaking.

“Now’s not a good time.”

His tone isn’t cruel or dismissive. But it is a little dry, and very heavy and tired, and you bite your lip to keep yourself from telling him so.

Vanya’s face falls.

You’re unable to stay quiet any longer when both siblings’ gazes move away from the other. “Five,” you say, reaching out to touch Five’s shoulder gently. “Vanya’s been really worried about you. And me, too. We, um, wanted to bring you something to eat.”

The boy glances at Vanya again, who seems to have shrunk a little but still nods, and to your relief, his lips purse. He finally backs away from the door to let the two of you through.

“I’m not hungry,” he says, heading back to his desk. “… But thanks.”

Trailing after Vanya, you inspect Five’s room as you walk in. The walls are already crammed with chalky equations and notes and graphs, none of which you can begin to understand. When you look over at the corner where Five is, you spot the wastebasket next to his desk, filled to the brim with crumpled notebook paper. Klaus was partly right, you think with worry. You’re not completely surprised.

You make your way over to Five and put the cup of apple juice on his desk, right next to the plate of peanut butter and marshmallow sandwiches. “You need to eat to think better,” you plead when he looks at you. “Right, Vanya?”

“I put lots of marshmallows,” she adds. “And I showed [Y/n] how to make one for you too.”

“I might’ve put too much peanut butter,” you mutter, scratching the back of your neck.

“That’s fine.”

You crack your brightest grin. “Famous last words, Five.”

He shrugs and turns back to his work. The two of you wait expectantly, albeit somewhat awkwardly, watching Five stare at his math and the textbook propped up against the wall in front of him. The end of his pen taps against the open pages of his notebook: tap tap tap tap tap. But he doesn’t write. You don’t think he even blinks. Troubled, you share a glance with Vanya; this time, it’s she who nods at you, reassuring.

Finally, Five sighs and puts his pen down. You don’t know if you’re glad or feel bad for it. Maybe both.

“Do you want us to leave?” Vanya ventures to ask.

He shakes his head, raking his fingers through his hair. “Stay,” he mutters, standing up. He picks up the cup of apple juice and takes a gulp, then grabs the plate and strides across the room to his bed. “Just in case my jaw is glued shut from [Y/n]’s sandwich.”

Vanya suppresses a snort. Your mouth drops open.

“Hey!”

Still, the joke – a Five joke, but a joke nonetheless – brings a cautious but real smile to your face as Five sits on the edge of his bed, taking a bite out of one of the sandwiches. You don’t know which one is yours and which one is Vanya’s. Not that it matters, unless his jaw really does get glued shut because of the peanut butter. You’ll shoulder the blame in that case.

(… Could your jaw get glued shut from peanut butter?)

You gravitate toward the bed as Five eats, sitting down next to him; Vanya lingers by the desk a little longer, and you wave her over.

“Come sit, Vanya.”

She looks between the two of you, then obliges, going over to sit on the other side of Five. She rests her hands on top of the comforter, leaning back on them as Five finishes the first sandwich and starts on the next one.

“We barely saw you after joint training,” you say after a minute or so of watching him polish off one half of the sandwich. Not hungry, he said. His actions definitely say otherwise. “Have you been working all day?”

He gives a brief, affirming grunt.

Taking that as a sign to go on, you swing your legs slightly back and forth. “I missed seeing you,” you say.

You think you see Vanya’s expression shift in your peripheral, but she turns her head before you can make sure. You also think Five stops chewing for a split second, but there shouldn’t be a reason for him to be surprised, so you’re probably just imagining things.

Five is your friend. Of course you’d miss seeing him if he disappeared all day.

In any case, he finally speaks again once there’s just a single piece of crust left; and when he does, his voice is so low that you wonder if he’s talking to himself.

“I had a drawback today.”

Vanya furrows her brow. “What do you mean?”

Five stares down at the last scrap of crust, picking at a loose crumb. It falls onto the plate. “I could blink with mice on my first try. So Dad wanted me to blink with a dog today.” His voice remains low. “And I …”

For the first time today – and perhaps even this month – you witness Five’s expression crumple just the slightest bit. An uneasy feeling squirms in your chest.

“I botched it.”

“It’s … it’s okay, Five,” you try to comfort, “I’m sure you tried your –”

He shakes his head, cutting you off with a glare. “No,” he snaps, “you don’t get it. I botched it. I blinked with the dog and it turned inside out.”

Vanya’s eyes widen.

Your stomach turns.

So that’s why. Biting your lip, you stare at Five, horrified, trying desperately not to imagine what that had looked like. What that had felt like. Inside out. Sir Hargreeves doesn’t care for animals, you know that, but you didn’t think – you don’t know why you didn’t –

“I’m sorry, Five,” Vanya whispers as you hug Five, her voice shaky. “It wasn’t your fault. You didn’t mean to.”

“Yeah, well.” He shrugs blandly, and you tighten your hold, feeling how tense he actually is. “Intentions don’t mean anything if you screw it up in the end.”

He finishes the crust, moving away from your hug to put the plate on his nightstand. Vanya wipes her eyes. When he comes back, you reach for his hand and squeeze it.

“Thanks for telling us, Five,” you tell him softly.

If Five looked tired before, now he seems utterly drained. But the tension seems to have ebbed. Just a little. And after a few seconds, he squeezes your hand back; well, not really a squeeze, but his fingers tighten, just barely, around yours. He meets your eyes and you smile a small smile.

Vanya gives her brother a brief hug, then stands up. “We should go,” she tells you reluctantly, glancing at the alarm clock. “Dad’s going to check our rooms soon.”

Dammit, you hate curfew. “Yeah, you’re right.” You pull away, not quite liking how cold your hand feels when you let go. Quickly weighing your options, you wrap your arms around Five one last time and give him a quick peck on the cheek before standing up as well. “See you tomorrow, Five. Try to get some sleep?”

He just shrugs, looking at the equations on his wall. Oh. Hopefully, you think as you grab Vanya’s hand and open the door, you didn’t make him too uncomfortable. The door creaks loudly and you cringe.

With one last “goodbye” from the two of you, which he returns in a murmur, you and Vanya hurry out of Five’s room and head quietly down the stairs.

“I hope he feels better,” you whisper, letting go of Vanya’s hand to hold onto the railing.

“I think he does. A little bit, at least.”

You reach the bottom, hesitating before saying what’s on your mind. “Um, Vanya?”

“Mhmm?”

“You know Five really well, right?”

The girl blinks, then smiles a little proudly. “… Oh, well, I guess so.”

“Does Five not like hugs?” you worry. “I just – I kinda do it without thinking, you know, and I think I might’ve made him uncomfortable back there.”

Vanya stares at you openly for a moment, tilting her head. “Not usually,” she eventually responds. Then a corner of her mouth twitches upwards. “But … I think he likes yours.”

“Oh.” That makes you feel better. “That’s good.”

“You should ask him later, though.”

“Yeah, I will.”

Footsteps lighter, you head to your room across from the stairs and twist the doorknob, then stop short. That’s right – Klaus wanted you to come back after you visited Five. Gnawing the inside of your cheek, you figure that you’ll need to talk to him tomorrow morning, not wanting extra repetitions for loitering in the hallway. He’ll understand.

Pushing the door open, you look back at Vanya. “’Night, Vanya.”

She smiles, and you feel the warm glow of a newfound camaraderie with the seventh sibling.

“’Night.”

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tealtoedtoots · 4 years ago

Text

Two Super Vampires Walk Into a Bar...

“To me, immortality was something utterly unimportant and trivial. All that has ever mattered to me was living up to my code.”

Wamuu and Esidisi go out on the town and have a little heart to heart about the future.

Wamuu wasn’t usually one for drinking. Not often, anyway. He’d partake on occasion, but ultimately, he had decided that this particular diversion was not for him. He didn’t like the idea of not being in complete control over his emotions.

So it was with some reluctance, one night, that he agreed to go out drinking with Master Esidisi.

It was not long after they crossed the sea. They had been traveling for some time until they found themselves in a magnificent coastal city, marked with gorgeous architecture and bustling with life. Esidisi, ever lively, found himself with just enough spare energy to fancy a drink or two somewhere in this exciting new place. Kars did not share his enthusiasm. By the time they found a place to stay, the red-eyed man, perhaps a tad more red-eyed than usual, was ready for a rest.

So it was up to the dutiful Wamuu to accompany his master for the night. Truthfully, it wasn’t just his aversion to alcohol that made him wary of sharing a drink with Esidisi. He had much on his mind. The voyage had been quite unsettling for all of them, and Wamuu was left wondering if this grand quest for complete immortality was worth such risks. Or if he wanted such a thing at all. Ordinarily, he’d keep such doubts to himself, but he was terrified of the liquor loosening his tongue. And, shrewd as Esidisi was, it wouldn’t take much to see right through him.

Still, his master wanted to go out, and he couldn’t just let him go alone. So, with some good-humored advice from Kars, (“Make sure he behaves.” “Yes, Lord.” “Don’t let him start anything.” “Yes, Lord.” “Don’t get stuck somewhere before sunrise.” “Yes, Lord.”) they were off on their little tour around town.

Even at so late an hour, the city was fluttering with people, between and around such grandiose structures the likes neither of them had ever seen. They walked under several beautiful arches made of limestone and marble with impressive friezes. They passed by a large nymphaeum, covered in mosaic with a particularly striking fountain. And then there was the theater, so enormous the two found it hard to believe there was any spectacle that could draw a large enough crowd to fill it even half full. They finally settled at a tavern of sorts. A cozy little place with a lovely view of the city. They sat in contended silence for a while, Esidisi’s cup already half-empty, Wamuu’s untouched. It was a truly beautiful night, and Wamuu was quite taken with the view.

“So, what’s troubling you, Wamuu?”

Wamuu flinched at the suddenness. What?? How could he know? He hadn’t even drunk anything yet! Had he been obvious?

“Oh…” He wasn’t ready to have this talk. Leave it to Master to charge headfirst into a potentially difficult conversation. He thought quickly. “I was merely wondering...what happens after we obtain the red stone.”

“Ah.” he seemed satisfied with the answer. “Well, I’d imagine once we’ve achieved our goal and are made properly invincible, Kars and I will travel at our leisure. See the world in a new light. Maybe take an overseas trip that isn’t miserable.” he winked at Wamuu over his cup before taking a sip. “You and Santana are welcome to join us of course, but ultimately, your eternity is yours to spend as you see fit.”

The two went quiet again, a little less comfortable this time. The last part of his reply seemed to hold some weight to it, a certain melancholy. They were both already missing Santana, which made the possibility of parting ways sting more than it normally would have. In the silence, Wamuu was surprised to find himself compelled to speak truthfully after all. He still hadn’t touched his drink, and yet whether it was the ambience of the place or his master’s subtle change in expression, he couldn’t fight the urge to confess.

“Master...what if I didn’t want to be an immortal being?”

Esidisi looked at him in surprise, and immediately Wamuu regretted not keeping his mouth shut. He had to be livid, how could he not be? He just admitted that he didn’t want the glorious life they were working so hard to achieve, and partially for his sake. He must seem so selfish. He tried to backpedal.

“H-hypothetically.” Nice save.

Esidisi looked intently at the man beside him for a time, then relaxed his face. “Of course he doesn’t.” he thinks. “This earnest and honorable fool would never have an earnest and honorable battle again. It would utterly take the wind out of his sails.” As a warrior, he understood. Esidisi had had countless battles over his long life, some of them exciting and perilous, most of them far too easily won. And though he still enjoyed the thrill of combat, he’d long made his peace that there were few of this world that could measure up.

But Wamuu was still young, and had done most of his living by their side. No doubt, he’d need to have many more encounters before he could be satisfied. He put aside his disappointment and spoke evenly.

“Well, Wamuu,” he turned forward again and took another sip. “It’s as I’ve said. Once the stone is ours, you may live your life as you please.”

Esidisi didn’t seem upset, but Wamuu was still uneasy. “And...Lord Kars?”

Esidisi stilled. Ah. That might be a different matter. Kars wouldn’t be too thrilled to hear this. Esidisi knew it came from a place of love, of course he wanted Wamuu to live forever with no threats or fears to burden him. They both did. It would be giving him everything. It would be giving him the whole world. He wouldn’t understand why he would reject such a gift, just so he can play around with some lesser beings, and at the possible cost of his life at that.

“Hmm. I won’t lie to you, Kars will likely be furious.” Wamuu knew the answer, but his heart sank anyway.

“But don’t let it torment you. You know how he can be. He’ll come to accept it in due time, and sooner rather than later. He cares for you deeply, after all.” he claps a warm hand on his back. “And anyway, knowing Kars, it won’t be long after conquering the sun before he needs something new to obsess over. Maybe his next mission will be building you the perfect opponent.” he grinned.

Wamuu smiled. He didn’t know whether the older man was joking or not, and he had a suspicion he wasn’t so sure himself, but his words cheered him considerably. He was glad that he came out tonight.

“You know, Master, I’m somewhat surprised a fierce warrior such as yourself would be so willing to give up his combative lifestyle for an eternity of peace and tranquility. With all due respect, it doesn’t seem like you.”

Esidisi chuckled. “Who said anything about peace and tranquility? Believe me Wamuu, even in paradise, if there’s trouble, I’ll find it.” His voice and his smile soften. “Besides, even if I’ve already fought my very last battle, a whole lifetime of them can only pale in comparison to an infinity with my mate.” Wamuu made a commendable effort to keep his nose from wrinkling. “Maybe someday you’ll find someone for whom you feel the same.”

He wasn’t so sure about that. He thought for a second. “Honestly, I think I’d rather spend the remainder of my time with you and Lord Kars.”

Esidisi barked a hearty laugh. “Don’t be so quick to decide that, Wamuu! That’s a long time, you may very well be sick of us by then.” He smiled at him warmly.

Wamuu smiled back. He doubted it.

It was then that Esidisi noticed Wamuu’s cup, still filled to the top. With an exaggerated sigh, he held out his hand. “Alright Wamuu, give me the drink. You haven’t touched it all night.”

Wamuu looked at the cup, then back to his master. An impish smile formed on his usually serious face. Suddenly, on a whim of rare playfulness, he jerked his head back and gulped the whole thing down in mere seconds! It was not a small drink.

Esidisi was stunned for the second time that night. He stared at him in disbelief before erupting into a fit of raucous laughter. “‘Atta boy! ‘Atta boy!! Let’s have another!” he shouted while slapping him vigorously on the back. “Maybe you can taste it this time!”

Wamuu wasn’t usually one for drinking, but he had a wonderful time that night.

EXTRA

The door opened with a loud bang, and Esidisi entered with a flourish. He found Kars in the middle of the room, comfortably laying on some blankets and looking over some scroll he managed to get his hands on.

“Why! Is that Kars, the brilliant and gorgeous love of my near-immortal life? Or is that simply the most exquisite and oddly colored mop I have ever seen?”

Kars huffed a laugh and looked at him with a sly smile.

“It’s Kars.” Esidisi said simply, kissing his cheek and making himself comfortable against Kars’ back.

“Your flattery needs work.” he turned back to his reading, still smiling.

“Really? I thought that was pretty good for me.”

“You’ve had better.” he glanced behind him. “Where’s Wamuu?”

Oh. That was a good question. Esidisi opened his eyes in realization. “Huh...he was right behind me…”

Kars sat up in alarm just before hearing a thud at the entrance. There he was, perfectly safe and completely hammered, lying right in the doorway.

“...Wamuu? Are you alright?”

Wamuu giggled drowsily in response. He raised his arm in the air and swung it in a circle a few times before giving a thumbs up, before dropping it over his face.

Kars gave Esidisi a look. “What?? There was no stopping him Kars, the boy practically drank the whole place dry!”

Kars got up with a sigh. “Oh, no he didn’t Esidisi, don’t fib.

“He did!”

Kars crossed the floor and leaned down, giving Wamuu a shake. “Wamuu.”

Wamuu opened one eye and looked at Kars. He gave him a broad and goofy smile.

“Luvff you Daahd…”

That’s both masters he’s stunned tonight. Kars’ eyes widened and he pressed his lips together in shock. He was certainly not expecting that. “O-oh!” was all he managed. Wammu didn’t hear his master’s uncharacteristically inelegant reply, he was out again almost immediately. Kars could feel Esidisi beaming at him from across the room, and he was sure he could tell he was fighting a silly smile of his own.

“You both are incorrigible.”

#jjba #battle tendency #pillarfam #fanfiction #WOO another fic down and i even titled it this time WOOT WOOT #yeah i think this might be a lil corny but what can i say im a corny binch #CORNY BINCHES RISE #theres some #esikars #in there 'cause of course there is #but mostly its just windy boy and lava dad bonding hours #<3

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issabangtanfic · 4 years ago

Text

[Jungkook] The Windmill House (Chapter 12)

Synopsis: When your stereotypical Christian Grey meets his not so stereotypical Anna

Masterlist

Pairing: Jungkook x OC

A/N: Feel free to submit a cover! Tell me what you think in my inbox! Enjoy!

Honestly, after seeing Mrs Choi for the first time, I had no idea she would be one of those eccentric client who asks for a ridiculously edgy concept for her home.

It's always the most normal-looking ones...

I look away from the blueprints spread across my desk when I hear my phone buzzing. When I check I see it's a text message from Sidney.

Squidney : Wanna come home for your lunch break? I made lasagna

Her text makes me smile a little. We haven't been talking much ever since that fight after the inauguration party.

She made me feel like I was the unstable kid no one in the family trusts to take care of themselves. And honestly it's probably true that no one trusts me, but I feel like my words are not going to prove anything so I just have been focusing on work and not talking to her very much.

This text is definitely a truce appeal. And I don't like not talking to Sidney, but at the same time I don't know how to feel about the fact that every time I will tell her anything about Mr.Jeon or any other man she will probably disapprove, but not tell me so we don't fight.

I’m scared of the hypocrisy.

“A windmill house?”

When I look up from my phone, I see Joon who had been brainstorming with me this morning, flipping through my folder.

“Focus.” I tell him, snatching it from his hands before he can find the contract I just printed out for Mr.Jeon.

I don't know how to make a contract so I just used one of our standard ones and put my name on it.

“In London?” He inquiries, sounding excited. I know right?! But I can’t be talking about this with you.

“Namjoon.” I admonish.

“Okay.” He gives up, sliding off my desk and looking back at the blueprints.

“I can give you an alcove, but not windows.” He says, pointing at the kitchen area. Wait what?

“I thought that was doable.” I retort.

“It is, but we’d need to restucture the entiere building. We don’t have the budget nor permission for it.” He explains. Well, he could just have said no when I asked him!

“Okay.” I murmur. So without concave windows. we're going to have to create the roundness inside the apartment.

“Don’t sulk.” I hear Joon coo next to me.

“I’m not, I’m thinking.” I reply, retracting my pout and releasing my frown.

“Move the pantry here.” I propose, pointing at the space between two windows. One's in the kitchen, the other in the living-room.

“Here?” He doesn't sound convinced.

“We can use the gap between the old and new partitions as storage. And put the alcove here. It’ll be the limit between the kitchen and the living room." I explain. At this point I don't see any other option.

“That I can do. That’s actually a great idea.” Joon nods. Cool!

“Good Job.” He compliments, fist bumping me before exiting my office. Once I'm alone, I quickly text Sidney back.

Me: Lasagna sounds great, syl

I’m back home by 12:30, and when I open the door the delicious smell of cooking meat invades my nostrils. Just as I close the door, Juno trots up to me with her tail wagging happily.

"Hi Juno!" I beam at her, kneeling to scratch her head. She looks so cute with her little blue bandana around her neck. She barks hello, and I drop a kiss on between her eyes.

When I walk further in, I find Sydney tying her hair up in a bun with a chopstick behind the kitchen counter. The table is set for two.

"Hi." She smiles at me.

"Mmmmmh... lasagna!" I sing, tossing my bag on the couch. I join her in the kitchen and kneel in front of the oven. "Smells amazing." I observe. The lasgna is almost ready, I can see the meat juices bubbling under the cheese. She really makes the best lasagna.

"Thank you for the food, Sidney." I thank her, standing up and pecking her cheek.

"You're welcome." She hums, and even though we still haven’t talked about our fight, I know I can’t stay mad at her.

Since everything is set and all that’s missing is the lasagna, we both sit down at the table and open a beer.

"We haven't been hanging out much so this is great." I say after we clink our bottles.

"I know, I wanted to say I'm sorry." She replies, looking at me with sad eyes.

"It's fine, really. I know you're just looking out for me." I counter. It was a silly argument. Ultimately, I understand her. I wish she didn’t think this way, but I understand where this is coming from, and I can’t be expecting anything else from her. Or anyone from my family.

"No, I'm sorry for making you think I don't trust you." She argues. "I'm just scared."

"Listen, I know how similar these two men are. Trust me, it's been weird for me too." I say reassuringly. "But somehow he hasn't made me feel how I'd be feeling before." I add. "Quite the opposite actually."

I frown as the words leave my mouth. It’s only hitting me now that in a way, Mr.Jeon is nothing like the type of man he looks like. I have all these preconceptions about him, and while he still hasn’t proved me wrong, I can’t say I feel like I’m right about him yet.

"And I don't know what to do about it." I mutter to myself, drowning half of my sentence in the neck of my bottle. There’s a moment of silence, where Syd seems to be hesitating to speak.

"I just don't want to lose you again." She admits after a beat. I know everything comes down to that. I reach across the table and grab both of her hands.

"I know. And whatever happens I'm not letting him or anyone pull me away from my family." I affirm, looking straight into her eyes. "It's not happening again." I promise. She smiles and nods, seemingly reassured.

"You know," She trails off, rmoving her hands from mine and resting her chin on her palm. After all this time you've been part of my family, I still didn't think you liked Asians."

"What the hell?” I laugh out loud. This girl!

"I don't know, I just never thought of it." She giggle with me. I shake my head at her as our laughter fades.

"Promise me you're being careful." She demands quietly.

"I am being careful, Sidney." I promise. "You know, what made me really mad the other day was…”I pause, looking for the right words. "That somehow you think I didn't learn my lesson?"

"No, that's not what I think." She shakes her head vigorously. "I just-" She pauses and thinks for a second. "I trust you, but I worry still." She says.

I’m not expecting any less from her.

"I think..." She trails off, but chokes on her words, and her eyes become shiny with fresh tears. Oh, no!

"Sidney, come on." I scold as she blinks her tears away.

"Shut up, let me talk." She snaps, aborting the waterworks. She sighs deeply, her eyes still very wet. I hate seeing her like this.

"I think seeing you with a man brings back a lot of memories." She explains, her voice still shaking. "Your therapist said your first relationship after B-"

"Woah woah woah, who talked about a relationship?" I stop her dead in her tracks. I understand her worry, but I’m not trying to date anyone. Yes, Mr.Jeon and I are flirting, but we both know what to expect.

"Even a quick shag, she said it's bound to bring back memories." She argues.

"I told you, he still hasn't made me feel like that." I retort.

"I know, and that's great." She says. "But we also had our own trauma that me and your parents and everyone else went through." She argues.

"And obviously it's not as dramatic as it sounds but,” She says, shaking her head. "Knowing that you're potentially seeing someone, it kinda feels like PTSD." She says to me.

"I understand." I reply. I guess, neither me nor my family is prepared for me seeing someone again. After all, it’s something that I hadn’t thought of in a while, not even once.

“And if I feel unprepared for you being out there again, imagine how your parents will react.” Sydney adds.

“I’d rather not.” I reply. Honestly I’d rather stay single.

“It’s going to feel so sudden for them, because they’re not even witnessing the talking stages-“

“I’m not dating this man.” I remind her. I won’t have to introduce anyone to my parents for still a very long time!

“Still.” She retorts. “It’s going to be difficult for them. And they’re probably going to make you feel worse than I did.” She says as a warning. She’s right. My parents will probably reject anyone I bring home out of pure protectiveness, without even trying to get to know them.

“But always out of love for you.” She adds. My mind is reeling. Me getting a boyfriend will be such a headache.

“Let’s postpone the moment as much as possible then.” I sigh, grabbing my beer. “Shagging only.” I toast, and it’s like a promise at this pont. Sydney laughs at me, but still mimics me.

“Shagging only.” She repeats after me.

After a rather calm day at work, I drive down to Mr.Jeon's office in the City. It's a place I've never been to in the 2 years I've been living here in London, because why would I? I earn half of what the worst paid people here make.

My red mini doesn't fit between this tall grey skyscrapers, Mercedes and Audi's around me.

Mr.Jeon told me to park in the underground parking lot after announcing myself to the guard, before going to the first floor to announce myself again. The building is almost empty as it is past working hours.

After getting clearance, I'm escorted by a pretty brunette up to the 17th and last floor. I pass countless empty offices, until my guide stops in front of the sole lit up room. The wall is glass, so I can see about a dozen people inside.

"Mr.Jeon is in a meeting right now." The woman informs me. "You can wait for him right here."

She points at two chairs in the hallway placed by a closed office, right across from the meeting room.

"Thank you." I smile politely at her before taking a seat. The chair happens to be placed near the back of the meeting room, where I finally spot Mr.Jeon, sat down at the end of the table.

The motion of me sitting down catches his attention. He looks outside and spots me. I give him a smile and a slight nod to say hello. He smiles back to me, before reaching in his pocket and pulling his phone out. He starts typing, and I receive a text seconds later.

Mr.Jeon : You're early.

No, he’s late.

Me : I didn't want you to fire me again.

I type back, press send and look up to dee his reaction. He smirks, looked amused as he types his answer.

Mr.Jeon : I would never. He writes back, followed by:

Mr.Jeon : You look very pretty today.

I purse my lips to stifle the unwanted smile creeping on my face. He's probably looking at me to watch me swoon and melt at his comment, but I won't give him this satisfaction.

When I look up, his eyes aren't on me. He's back into his meeting, looking straight ahead at the different numbers on screen across the table.

Me : Texting during a meeting? I reply, deciding not to acknowledge the compliment. When he gets the notifications, he makes a quick matter of his response.

Mr.Jeon : Take the compliment.

Oh this feels like an order. This man would love to boss me around.

Me : I don't like your tone. I retort.

When he sees my text, his head immediately turns to me, his eyebrows raised and his eyes challenging.

I shrug a shoulder, indicating I don't care if he doesn't like what he just read.

The corner of his mouth jerks a little, and he rolls his tongue against his cheek to refrain a smile, before looking back at his phone. I receive a text shortly after.

Mr.Jeon : Take the compliment, please.

Me: No.

When he gets the text, his eyes shoot up at me, and he slowly shakes his head, seemingly amused.

But he doesn't reply. He instead focuses on the words being said inside the room. I watch as he suddenly frowns, and then start flipping through a pile of paper he has in front of him.

I don't hear what he's saying but he looks confused and slightly annoyed. He tells something to the man presenting, clearly reproachful.

Me: What's the meeting about? I ask out of curiousness. He doesn't look at my text until the issue is settled and his employee gives him a satisfying answer.

I'm already scrolling through my Instagram timeline when I get his response. Three texts in a row.

Mr.Jeon : Boring stuff

Mr.Jeon : And finances

Mr.Jeon : What are you doing tonight?

Of course he'd ask. I smile at my phone.

Me: I don't think it's any of your business.

Mr.Jeon : Why do you assume I'm asking for unprofessional purposes?

Me: Because you probably are

Mr.Jeon : I wish Maya

Me: It’s Miss Fair for you

Mr.Jeon : Are you staying for dinner, Miss Fair?

Me: I'll have to decline...

I'm only declining to play hard to get. I would love to have dinner with him. Heck, I know I would want to take it even further. But I should be careful. I just promised Sid.

Mr.Jeon sits up first, buttoning his dark blue suit and signaling the end of the meeting. It is now 7:15. Everyone in the meeting follows, gets up and packs up, while Mr.Jeon exits the room first. I rise from my seat.

"Miss Fair." He greets me once he’s at my level.

"Hello, Mr. Jeon." I smile it him, extending my hand.

"Sorry for making you wait." He says to me, taking my hand shanking it.

"No worries." I reply, very well aware of the female employee taking her sweet time exiting the meeting room so she can stare at me. Does everyone in his company want to fuck him? Probably honestly.

“Long day?” I ask him. I can’t imagine having meetings until seven.

“Indeed. And you’ve already made it better.” He replies, successfully earning a chuckle from me.

"I have that effect on people sometimes." I shoot back.

"It's not the only one you have." He concurs. Oh, please.

“Let me show you to my office.” He invites, before guiding me down the hall to the door at the very end of the corridor.

After tying a code, Mr.Jeon opens the door that leads into his office.

It's a big, almost empty room. The back wall is entirely glass, making for a sweet landscape painting of downtown London. He has a rather small desk, with a leather ergonomic chair and two other ones placed across from him. As I walk further in, I notice a black leather sofa against the wall near the door, a chest of drawers and storage spaces and a sad single tall plant.

"This place is so sad." The words are out before I can understand how rude they are. I spin around to face Mr.Jeon, who is closing the door behind us. He's frowning at me.

"I'm sorry." I stutter, feeling my cheeks heat up.

"I mean empty." I correct myself. He pauses for a second, and I believe the quick exhale of air he does after that is a quiet chuckle.

"I don't spend that much time here." He says in a way of explaining. "But I'll be happy to have you work on my office as well." He adds. This man always has his goal in mind.

"I'll think about it." I reply evasively.

“Have a seat.” He invites. I sit my butt on on the chair and watch him walk over to the left side of the room.

“Would you like something to drink?” He proposes. Thats when I realize the storage spaces I saw where built-in furniture.

“You have a fridge in your office?” I don't know why I'm so amazed.

“I also have a bathroom with a shower and the sofa’s convertible.” He replies. A bathroom?

“You spend nights here?” I ask him.

“Sometimes." He answers simply. Woah. "Wine?” He offers.

This man is always trying to get me drunk! Or maybe he's just trying to make me stay.

“I just need a quick signature.” I decline politely.

“Where’s the rush? Aren’t you off work?” He retorts.

“I am, but I'm not drinking tonight Mr.Jeon."

"Okay." He doesn't push, and instead closes the fridge and walks back to me. He takes place in his seat while I fish into my bag looking for my folder.

“This is the contract I prepared for you.” I announce once I've found it. I pull it out and place it on the table.

“This is just a standard contract from Union, I just put my name on it.” I explain, flipping through the first four page until I find the one where my payment is mentioned. I flip the document around and slide it across the table to he can read, but he doesn't even look at it, just watches me with intent. I tap down on the page.

“Fifteen percent.” I point out, since it’s the percentage we’ve agreed on. He doesn’t even look down at where I’m pointing at, just keeps staring at me with this cheeky smile of his.

“Where do I sign?” He asks me. This man, I swear.

I sigh in order to try and hide my amusement.

“I thought you needed to read it through.” I remind him.

“I changed my mind.” He retorts. Oh, I’m sure he hadn’t planned on reading anything in the first place… It’s so annoying that his cheesy tactics still make my stomach feel funny.

I break the eye contact first, looking at the contract while I flip all the pages. “You can sign here, and here.” I indicate him. I watch him as he clicks his pen and scribbles onto the paper.

“Thank you very much.” I say, grabbing the papers and putting them back in the folder.

“Anything else I can do for you?” He asks as I put back in my purse.

“I think I have everything I need.” I smile at him.

“Can I make a request, then?” He enquires, joining his hands on the table.

“Are you going to ask me to have dinner with you?”

“Will you say yes?”

“No.”

“Then no, that’s not my request.” He brushes off, shrugging. Oh?

“What can I do for you?” I ask him, resting my chin onto my fist.

“Can you answer my question as honestly as possible?” He asks, leaning a little bit closer to me.

“Sure.” I reply, hoping he's not going to be too indiscreet.

"That time when you called me after the inauguration of the Manor." He trails off. Oh, lord.

"What would have happened had I said yes?" He asks me. I take a second to remember the mindset I was in that night.

I was definitely very tipsy, but I also was very horny.

"I think we would've set a date." I reply."And after sobering up I would've chickened out probably." I say, because let's be realistic.

"Mmh..." He nods, still trying to read something in my eyes. Why is he asking me that anyways?

"Do you regret not accepting the offer?" I ask him. He's probably getting impatient. After all the farthest he's ever gone with me is touching my neck.

"I'm wondering what was different that night." He replies. "You were a lot more...open."

Yeah, no shit, Sherlock.

"Part of it was because of the alcohol." I argue.

"I figured." He says to me. "I was hoping it wasn't only that." He murmurs a little more quietly.

I stare at him for a second. Why does this small, unused part of my brain think he's actually trying with me?

"Can you answer my question?" I counter, mimicking him and joining my hands.

"Sure."

"Promise to be honest?"

He smiles a little when I say that, and his gaze grows warm.

"I promise." He murmurs softly.

"How many women are you sleeping with?"

"Zero." He replies immediately. OH SURE!

He doesn't even try to come up with a credible number. Why did I think he would actually tell me the truth in the first place.

I roll my eyes to the heavens, leaning back against my seat in disappointment.

"Maya." He chuckles, pushing himself off of his desk.

"I have been working since seven in the morning. I've had five meetings, no lunch break, and I have a flight tomorrow morning for Dubai where I'll have to meet 13 potential clients in less than four days," He says to me, slowly circling his desk so he's closer to me.

"All while attending boring society functions and pretending I care about how many cars my investors have." He says, leaning against his desk when he's right next to me.

"I don't have time for more than one woman, but most importantly I don't have time for lies." He reassures me. I don't know if I believe that, but that does sound like a busy schedule. I don't see how he could fit multiple women in there.

"Why waste your precious time on me then?" I sass, because why not? I cross my arms over my chest and lift a challenging eyebrow at him.

"I wouldn't do it if I considered it a waste of my time." He mimics me.

"Then why?" I ask, and he pauses for a second.

"I'm not sure." He says, shrugging. Oh.

There is a knock on the door that interrupts our discussion. Mr.Jeon slips off his desk and goes over to open it. I turn around out of curiosity, to see who’s behind the door. It’s his assistant Jimin.

"Yes, Jimin?" Mr.Jeon says to him. His assistant's eyes quickly scan the background and land on me. He then looks back at Mr.Jeon.

"Am I bothering?" He asks him.

"Be quick." Mr.Jeon replies. I might as well get ready to leave. I was just supposed to get a signature tonight. Chatting and flirting is fun, but it's getting late.

"Paul confirmed eight thirty tonight. Here are your keys." I hear Jimin explain to him while I look away.

"Thank you, Jimin."

"You're welcome. Goodnight." He says, and just like that he's gone. I get up from my seat and swing my bag over my shoulder.

When I turn around Mr.Jeon is is standing by the open door.

"You're leaving?" He asks me.

"Don't you have a date at eight thirty?" I remind him, joining him at the door. "With Paul?" I tease, making him chuckle.

"A date with Paul?" He laughs, opening the door for me. "He's not really my type." He says as I step out.

"And he's my personal trainer if you're wondering." I hear him add as he closes the door behind us.

"And you were ready to go have dinner with me?" I challenge as we walk down the corridor towards the elevators.

"I'll trade a workout with Paul for dinner with you anytime." He says smoothly, looking down at me. I huff out a laugh, shaking my head.

Once we get to the elevators, I press the call button.

"Why are you asking? Have you changed your mind about dinner?" He asks me.

"Not yet." I reply, turning to face him. He's standing closer to me than I expected.

He lets out a long sigh, shoving his hands in his pockets. I'm feeling playful.

"You could convince me." I tease, shrugging a shoulder. Just as I say these words, the doors to the elevator open.

"Convince you?" He repeats, his interest peaked. We step inside the elevator.

"How long do I have?" He asks me as I lean against the wall, grabbing the railing behind me. He goes to the opposite side to press the basement floor button.

"Just an elevator ride." I challenge just as the doors close on the both of us and the elevator starts moving down. An incredibly sexy smirk creeps across his face when I say that.

"What game are you playing right now, Maya?" He asks, eyes playful, taking a slow step towards me.

"I'm giving you a chance." I shrug, as he slowly approches me. I feel like he's going to jump me any second.

I should get him off his high horses.

"But you have to convince me..." I trail off, catching him trying to pull his hands out of his pockets.

"Without touching me." I murmur, when he's inches away from me. I swallow, all my confidence slowly leaving me. My eyes travel between his eyes and his lips.

Even though I just told him not to touch me, if he kisses me right now, I don't know what I'd do with myself.

"Without touching you." He repeats, looking both confused and amused. I nod, because I don't trust my voice to be steady enough.

I feel the elevator slow down prematurely, indicating an impromptu stop. Mr.Jeon steps back, and that's when I realize I kind of had stopped breathing.

I straighten my back and turn away from him as the elevator comes to a full stop. The door open onto a man pushing a cleaning cart. A janitor.

After stiff greetings, the employee pushes his cart in, taking place right between me and Mr.Jeon.

Well, there goes whatever was going to happen there.

The ride down is silent, and it seems like the storage room is on the basement floor as well because that's where we all get off.

Mr.Jeon and I let him walk off while we linger in front of the elevators. My mini also happens to be parked right in front of us.

When our eyes finally meet after he's gone, we're both tempted to laugh.

"You failed." I observe, facing him.

"Well, there wasn't much I could do, was there?" He chuckles. True, true. I wish I could know he was going to say... or do to me.

"Maybe next time?" I say, well aware of the inviting tone of my voice.

"Maybe." He nods.

"Have a safe trip." I add over my shoulder, walking over to my car.

"Thank you, Maya. Get home safe." He replies, watching me get in and drive off.

#jungkook scenarios #jungkook #jungkook smut #bts smut #bangtan smut #rm smut #rm scenarions #bangtan scenarios #park jimin #bts jimin #bts jungkook fanfic #jimin fanfic #jungkookxoc

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redchestnut · 4 years ago

Text

Siempre me quedará

After an accident during an expedition, Levi and Hange remember that leading a normal life is a luxury that abnormal people cannot afford.

AO3 LINK HERE // tw: angst, miscarriage, blood.

* * *

Love is natural and real

But not for such as you and I, my love

The Smiths - I know it’s over

"Hange-san!" Armin's scream pierced the cold late winter air. As she moved on her way to help Sasha with a 7-meter titan, another one appeared in her path, pulling the wire of the gear that was extended in front of it, driving her back forcefully through the forest. Hange crashed into a tree and fell to the ground with a thud.

Armin flew to where she was, while Jean finished off the titan that had attacked her and, in the distance, the titan that was chasing Sasha fell to the ground. Not far from there, and deeper in the forest, it was possible to hear the sound of the gears of his comrades, and the footsteps and roars of more titans.

"Are you okay?! Please don't move," Armin pleaded, as he checked for visible injuries. At first glance, it hadn't been that bad. A scratch on her forehead and her knuckles. And her pants were torn above the knee, showing a cut that shed some blood. And above all, she was conscious. A really good sign. But his optimism was brief. Hange suddenly writhed and held her abdomen with both arms, letting out a loud groan. "What's wrong?" Armin asked, scared. "I don't know. It hurts'', she managed to reply before letting out a whimper again.

Before Armin could ask her another question, something froze him. A deep and bright red in the typically white pants of the commander. Blood. Coming from between her legs. Armin gulped. That could only mean one thing: the impact had caused internal damage. He had already seen things like that. Hange needed immediate help or the consequences could be deadly. His trembling hands quickly traveled to the side of his belt. A second later a purple signal flare rose through the sky. Armin prayed that, despite the trees, Levi's squad could see it.

"No! Why did you do that?" she asked him, struggling to get up.

"Please Hange-san, stay still, you are bleeding." Hange looked at him as if she didn't understand what he was talking about, before turning her gaze to herself. Now she understood. And it was bad.

"It's nothing. Help me stand up. We must finish-" A contraction in her abdomen made her twitch and cry again. "We- we must finish clearing this area. And move on to the next one for- fuck ". The pain made her shut up again.

"What happened?" The captain's voice took Armin by surprise, who turned around startled.

Levi quickly moved Armin aside and inspected Hange. "A titan threw her against a tree, sir."

"I'm fine, Levi." Armin could see how she remained stoic and immovable. She was enduring the pain, so that the captain would not notice the reality of her state. "Move me to the top of the tree, just in case. We already finished off the titans on this side, though. Once your squad is done with the ones on their side, you all have to-" She frowned and swallowed hard. Her face became increasingly pale. "You all have to go ahead and settle in the second area. Then you can come back and- "

"Forster!" Levi cut her off abruptly.

"Sir!" replied the young man, who quickly approached them.

"Bring the cart." He ordered him. Hange's eyes widened in realization.

"Floch, no." She tried to say as loud and sure as the pain allowed. She fixed her gaze on Levi. "We only brought one. And it has what is essential and necessary to finish this mission. You will take it. And you will carry it. To the next area."

Levi held her gaze, yet his face remained unflappable. "You go back to the walls. Now."

"Hange-san, please listen to the captain. We can continue the mission another time. But now it is dangerous for you." Armin tried. Neither of them seemed to pay him any attention.

"I am your commander, Levi. And this is an order." Hange said slowly.

"Floch" Levi called out to him again, not taking his gaze away from Hange's. "What the fuck are you waiting for?"

"Sir, I-" Levi turned around violently. His gaze made Floch shut up immediately.

"Levi. Enough" Hange said in a groan.

"No. You stop. You're fucking bleeding." He said exasperatedly this time. Hange took a second before answering.

"If I were Erwin, you wouldn't dare even question my orders."

"But you are not Erwin." Levi responded instantly. In the myriad of ways that phrase could be interpreted, Hange decided to choose the worst. Silence covered them for a few moments.

"Floch, if I have to tell you one more time ..." Levi started.

"But sir, the commander said-" Levi's hand quickly moved to a hilt and connected it with one of his blades.

"Go, Floch. Go get the cart." Hange was quick to say. She dropped back to the ground, her gaze lost to the branches that danced slowly overhead. "The mission is over." She said in almost a whisper.

She saw the yellow signal flare cut through the air before closing her eyes.

* * *

Levi hurried through the gates of the headquarters. They had left as soon as they finished with the remaining titans, about twenty-five minutes after Hange and the two brats did. He decided to leave the report for Zachary until later. The old man was not going to be happy to know that they had not made it to the sea yet, but the satisfaction of the Commander-in-chief was the last of his worries.

"Captain!" Levi heard Armin's call, which made him stop his rush to the infirmary. He turned to find the brat running towards him. "Hange-san is not there. She is in her room. The doctor is checking her."

Levi murmured a quick thank you before starting to walk in the opposite direction.

He met the doctor as he walked up the stairs. They looked at each other for a brief moment, before the older man put his hand on Levi's shoulder.

"She'll be fine", he said before continuing down the stairs not waiting for an answer.

When he finally got to her room he hesitated for a second whether to knock or not, but finally decided to just go inside. The first thing he saw when he entered was her blood-soaked pants thrown in a corner. He sighed. Hange was in bed, sitting pale, but alive. She was staring out of the window and she hadn't noticed him.

"Hey," he started to get her attention.

"Levi! I didn't hear you come in." She responded tiredly, but with her usual upbeat tone.

"The doctor said you would be fine."

"Yeah... I'll be fine."

Silence fell on both of them. "Look, about what I did there... I will take responsibility for my disobedience. If you consider that there should be a punishment I-"

Hange laughed softly. Her melancholy tone made Levi's stomach clench. There was something wrong. "I'm not going to punish you, dummy."

Levi simply nodded. Hange looked out the window again, and he decided to move closer. "Sorry," he said as he sat on the bed. "But you scared the shit out of me."

"I know. And I'm sorry too." She looked at him again. "I was stubborn, right?"

"Yeah. It's a Hange thing" He replied. She took his hand and smiled at him, but her smile didn't reach her eyes. "What did the doctor say?"

The smile disappeared at once. She released his hand and her gaze flicked briefly to where her pants were. "You heard it. I'll be fine."

"Yes, but what explanation did he give you about the pain and the blood?"

Hange sighed and lay down on the bed, covering herself with the covers. "Hange, are you going to tell me what-"

"I was pregnant" she cut him off.

The silence that followed was such that for a moment Levi wondered if he really heard it.

"What?" he whispered, but she didn't respond. "How?"

"I guess we weren't careful enough." She said. We. They had never talked about fidelity. They had never even talked about a relationship. Levi hadn't been with anyone else, though, but he never asked Hange to do the same. She was free, she always had been. "I didn't notice it. I kept bleeding. Not regularly and in small amounts, but I did." She said looking nowhere in particular. Her blankets covered her up to her chin. "The doctor said I was bleeding from riding the horse. So the baby was already weak by the time-" she took a deep breath "by the time I hit that tree."

Baby. The word settled somewhere in Levi's chest. In a painful way. In the way emptiness hurts.

He just stayed there for what felt like hours. His gaze followed the bright trace that a tear left on Hange's cheek. And he watched his own thumb on her face. A caress to dry the tear. Another caress to say I love you. Another caress, slower and softer, to say I'm so sorry.

"What world would we have brought them to, anyway?" she spoke again. "It was for the better. We couldn't have taken care of them." Another tear appeared and his thumb took over. "It was for the better, wasn't it Levi?"

His throat closed. "It was for the better," he agreed.

* * *

It was already dark when Levi decided to leave. He stood up and Hange moved. "Levi?" she asked in a sleepy voice.

"Yes?" he whispered.

"You would have been a great father," she said with her eyes closed. Levi swallowed.

"Keep sleeping, Hange," he replied and kissed her forehead. "I will return later".

Hange watched him pick something up from the ground before silently leaving. She closed her eyes again.

* * *

On his knees by the side of his tub, Levi vigorously scrubbed Hange's pants. The water had turned a pinkish color, however, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t remove the stain.

He had washed her clothes multiple times before. He sometimes had to remove stains from her blood or the blood of their comrades after an expedition. But this time it was cruelly different. Levi paused momentarily and saw a drop fall into the water. And he saw two more before he realized they were his.

Determined to ignore his tears he continued to scrub the cloth violently, however, his rhythm began to slow down until he dropped the pants and the brush to the bottom of the tub. He let his arms dangle over the edge of the tub and dropped his head. His body shaked to the rhythm of the sobs that filled the bathroom. How many more things would he have to lose?

He wanted to go back to her room. To make her a promise. To talk to her. To tell her that they would both survive and that they would exterminate the titans. That when it’s all over they would get the hell out of there. And then there would be children. Two or maybe three. With her eyes and her laughter and they would live in a small house full of chaos. He wanted to promise her. Oh how he wanted to promise her. But he knew that in his world, in this reality where he had to wash the blood of his unborn son or daughter, no such promises could be made.

So he retrieved the pants and the brush and continued washing.

There are stains that simply will never go away.

* * *

(Author's note:

Hi there! So, I have this big flaw called inconsistency. My loved ones have compared me to a hummingbird that flies rapidly from one flower to another. Thus, one day I am obsessed with something with all my heart and the next day I already went after a new idea, a new thing, a new shiny pebble. The point is that just as the love for snk and levihan hit me unexpectedly, I think all the inspiration and motivation left me. Which makes me really sad because I had all these drafts with ideas that I was so excited to explore. A beautiful future for Hange and Levi post-canon and Hange's childhood. I lived in them for a long time. But I guess when the circumstances aren't there, you just can't push. Maybe it's just a period, or the burnout of university, and I will be able to materialize my ideas later. It would be great. Until then, I managed to finish the shortest draft I had. That is this. Unfortunately it was angst haha. But something is something.

Thank you so much to those who read my stories and left beautiful words in response. I've never written fanfiction before. And while I started out as a kind of self-therapy, the most wonderful thing about it all was connecting with others. I hope to come back soon. A hug. Un beso y una flor ♥)

#levihan #levihan fanfiction

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lilsocksiswriting · 5 years ago

Text

Lap Puppy

Fandom: Haikyuu

Paring: Bokuto X Fem!reader

Summary: Bokuto finds out you have a thing kink before you do.

Warnings: NSFW, post-time skip spoilers, no beta, minors DNI

Tags: thigh riding, Light Degradation

Word Count: 1365

Bokuto realizes that you have a thigh kink before you do.

It's another normal morning and he's awake before you. He's always the first one to wake up because he likes to go for a short run before breakfast. You’re still sound asleep half on top of him with one leg slung over his thigh and your head tucked against his shoulder. Bokuto hates to leave you when you look so comfy snuggled up to him. But he knows as soon as he gets out of bed you'll curl up in the big warm spot he'll leave behind so it’s not like you’ll be left without his warmth which makes him feel a little less guilty,

Shifting his leg to slip it out from under you, Bokuto unintentionally runs his bare thigh along your clothed slit. He doesn't think much of what he had done until your small moan causes him to freeze. It's not like your sleepy groan or a general sleep hum either. He's heard that moan enough to know what it was entailing. He moves his thigh again, this time purposely grinding it into your pussy and as a result, you give the same moan. This time even softly grinding your hips into the motion. A wide smirk stretches across Bokuto’s face. Were you liking this? Were you really getting off to his thigh in your sleep? Oh, Bokuto was going to have a field day with this new knowledge about you when he got back.

You wake up like normal. Sure you felt a little wet down there, but it wasn't the first time you had a wet dream that couldn’t remember. You get out of bed only bothering to wash your face and brush your teeth. Clothes could wait until you were awake enough for them. You could take your time cooking this morning since you didn't have to log into work until noon. You contemplate even bothering to put pants on since the meeting you'd be having will you only show your shoulders up. You decide that that's a decision to make after breakfast and coffee.

Bokuto comes back from his run while you're at the stove mixing eggs. God, he loves how you look in the morning; messy hair pulled back dressed in one of his old T-shirts he got when he first joined the MSBY Jackals just barely covering your butt. Bokuto strides into the kitchen with a smug smirk on his face. More than once have you commented how hot you think he looks post-workout in a pair of volleyball shorts and a thin sheen of sweat making his bare skin shine.

He wraps his arms around you from behind and kisses your cheeks, “Good morning."

You turn your head and stand on your tippy-toes to give Bokuto a quick peck back," Morning Kotaro."

"Come sit down with me," he kisses along the back of your neck gently pulling at your hips," I've got something to tell you."

Curious as to why your boyfriend wanting to be so affectionate this morning you switch off the stove and abandon your eggs in their mixing bowl. You let Bokuto lead you to the couch in the living room where plops himself down the middle of the and guides you to straddle one of his powerful thighs. Your arms lazily snake around his neck as you make yourself comfortable while his own hands settle firmly on your hips making sure you don’t go anywhere.

"You know you do the cutest things in your sleep."

"Is that what you set us down to tell me?" you giggle.

"You didn't let me finish!. I got examples. Like the little hums you make, the way you curl up in my spot when I get up, oh and especially the way you grind on my thigh like some needy whore."

The way his voice went from admiring to low and teasing gives you whiplash. You think that you Might have heard him wrong, "What?"

In response, he flexes the muscles in his thigh and grinds right against the sweet spot between your legs making you gasp and scrambling to grab hold of his broad shoulders, "Don't make me say it again. You won't like it if I have to repeat myself, baby girl."

Bokuto moves his thigh again. A whimper slips from your lips as your thigh tightens around him, neither reaction you were expecting. Bokuto seems like he was though. His hands push your hips down further onto his leg that begins to bounce making you tremble in delight.

"See? My needy little whore," He says smirking. He’s definitely both turned and amused with you right now. Your cheeks are such an adorable shade of red. Then there’s the downright lewd smile you have across your face as you ever so softly roll your hips, "You can get off to just about anything if it has something to do with me can't you? Like a bitch heat-" His eyes seem to darken with a realization, "like my cute little puppy."

Straddling one of Bukoto’s thick thighs and the pressure was feel so good but you have to wonder, "What-what's gotten into you this morning?"

Maybe that was the wrong, or right, question because Bokuto bounces his leg faster. His hands shifting your hips back and forth encouraging you to hump his thigh in you obediently complying craving more of the friction.

"What's gotten into me? You're the one who was grinding on my thigh this morning in your sleep puppy as if I didn't fuck your pussy raw the other night."

it never fails to make you feel so hot and embarrassed when Bokuto talks to you in a degrading way like that but coupled with the way his thigh rubbing against your clit is making your underwear soaked. You look down to see the extent of the mess you're making all over his thigh but Bokuto's hand gripping your jaw, smushing your cheek, forces you to keep your eyes on him, "Oh no, no, no puppy eyes on me or I'm stopping understand."

The mere thought of your pending orgasm being ruined makes you whimper and nod your head in a yes.

"Good puppy", Bokuto lets go of you and returns his hand to your hip.

You can tell you’re getting close. There is a small warm feeling in the pit of your stomach and a sensation between your legs that’s getting bigger and hotter. They make you grow frantic. You want to cum on Bukoto’s thigh. You want it so bad. But Bokuto keeps you at a steady pace. He wants to draw this out.

“You getting close puppy?”, He asks having the audacity to slow you down.

“Kotaro~”, you whine glancing down trying to move your hips faster and he does not like that.

In fact, he holds down your hips so you can’t move at all. The building orgasm you had been so frantic to reach slowly dying down making you whimper” No~ Kotaro please I was so close!”

“Really? Well, you better tell me how badly you want to finish puppy before I decide that you haven’t been good enough to.”

“Please,” you begin without missing a beat,” Let me cum. I promise I’ll be a good puppy. Your good puppy. Please Kotaro let me cum. Wanna cum all over your thigh and make a wet mess for you.”

“Then go-ahead puppy.”, his grip loosens completely leaving you to get off on his thigh all by yourself while Bokuto just watches.

You dig your fingernails into his shoulders and hump vigorously at his thigh building up that sweet heat again. Bokuto groans at the sting and all the moans that are getting higher and higher until Your hips stall

“Kotaro, oh fuck, oh fuck~”, You moan as your orgasm causes the legs to shake and your senses to be over flooded with a time-freezing pleasure.

You rest your head on Bukoto’s shoulder as you catch your breath. Bokuto smiles smugly to himself as he rubs your back, giving you all the time you need to come down,

“So….” You breathe,” I have a thigh kink.”

“ Awesome right?

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x reader #bokuto imagine #bokuto #Kotaro Bokuto #privet stacks

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alpacaparkaseok · 4 years ago

Text

Lost & Found - 12

Pairing: Park Jimin x soulmate (oc)

Warnings: Insecurity, anxiety, abandonment, oc feels like she’s gonna puke which, honestly, same

Word Count: 4.5k

a/n: holy. crap.

anyways, enjoy!

just remember that if it’s not ok then it’s not the end

Chapter 12. Bittersweet

series masterlist

“You wanna grab some lunch?” I ask as soon as I get into the car after my appointment with Dr. Mo. She seemed pleased with my progress, and reassured me that I did the right thing in writing Jimin’s letter.

The only thing left to do is wait.

“I thought you’d never ask.” Sunmi begins to drive. “How’d your session go?”

“Good, I think. I couldn’t stop fidgeting the entire time.” I blow a strand of hair out of my face. “Mind if I invite a friend to lunch?”

Sunmi glances at me sidelong, arching a brow. “Does this friend know about your thread and that you’re currently being chauffeured by a Bighit employee?”

I chew on my lip. “Well, yes to the first question and no to the second. But she knows everything else.” I bring my phone up to my ear, listening to it ring. “She actually helped me cut the thread...but she’s a really cool person. I swear.”

Sunmi just waves me off, appearing to be indifferent to adding another person to our lunch party. At this rate, I’ll have to invite Chung-hei as well.

“I was just going to call you! What happened last night? You left in a rush.”

“Wanna come to lunch? I think we’ll just grab something and eat it back at my apartment.” I look at Sunmi, who gives me a thumbs-up.

“And then you’ll explain what happened last night?”

I laugh at her persistence. “Yeah, sure.”

We discuss her order before she promises to meet me at the apartment. “I feel like I should invite my other friend as well,” I admit, looking at Chung-hei’s contact on my phone. “She’s Namjoon’s soulmate.”

Shrugging, Sunmi pulls into a drive through. “Don’t ask me, I’m just the driver.” She pauses. “Oooh, should I get a milkshake?”

“Yes,” I gasp. “Get me one too-”

Chung-hei picks up on the third ring.

“I was just thinking about you!” She chirps. I can’t help but smile at the sound of her voice.

“How adorable,” I drawl. “Wanna meet up at my apartment for lunch? I’ve got a couple of friends coming over that I want you to meet.”

“Sure! I was just planning on taking a break, anyways.”

“Great. You want the usual from the diner on 6th?”

“Ooh, how sexy, you even remember my order.”

I snort, rolling my eyes. “Whatever. See you soon.”

✂

“How far are we going to run today?” Namjoon asks, not sounding entirely thrilled at the prospect of cardio at this hour. It’s an odd hour to be going out for a run, but the weather is warm enough for a jog around their closed off neighborhood.

“I have no idea,” Jimin admits, looking excited to just get to go outside. “Just...a ways?”

Namjoon snorts. “A ways?”

“You know what I mean.” Swinging the door opens, Jimin pauses before stepping out. “Oh, mail’s here.”

Namjoon doesn’t think much of the statement, the mail is always here around this time of day. That is, not until he looks down at the pile of mail and sees a familiar looking envelope poking out from behind another letter.

“Ah!” He shouts, crouching down and scooping up the mess. “Ah!” He shouts again for emphasis.

Jimin looks at him with a half-smirk. “Is there a reason that we’re shouting?”

Unfortunately, Namjoon is unable to do much else besides shout. He backtracks into the house, tossing aside the undesirable letters in an effort to get to the one that really matters. In his excitement, it slips to the ground.

Jimin leans down, grabbing the letter that Namjoon points at with yet another shout. “What?” His stomach drops. “Did we forget to pay this month?”

“No!” Namjoon exclaims. When Jimin shrugs and attempts to hand it over to him, he thrusts it back at him. “That’s yours!”

“What do you mean, ��it’s mine’?” Jimin asks, frowning. “We split the cost-”

“Jolie. It’s from Jolie,” he pants, finally catching his breath and calming down. “Read it.”

Now, Jimin realizes, would be the perfect time to panic.

Reading the expression of confusion on his face, Namjoon takes a deep breath before leading Jimin to the couches in the living room. “Remember when I told you about going to visit Jolie right after she cut the thread and how I gave her-”

“You gave her this?” Jimin asks, looking down at the electric bill envelope with no shortage of disbelief. “Joon, this is probably just a bill-”

“No, we just got the electric bill three days ago!” Namjoon explains excitedly. “Just, read it.”

Jimin comes to stand before the couch, but he doesn’t sit down. Not yet. He’s too busy fighting the nerves that have manifested, the envelope shaking in his hands as he stares down at it.

“O-ok.”

He perches down on the edge of the coffee table, not even thinking to sit on the couch. Not as he tears the envelope open and slides out a piece of paper that looks suspiciously like notebook paper.

Namjoon is attempting to back out of the room to allow his friend a private moment, but stays just long enough to confirm that this is indeed the long-awaited letter.

When Jimin unfolds the paper enough to see the first line, addressed to him, he begins to greedily gulp down air.

She has beautiful handwriting.

Finding Namjoon’s eyes from across the room, Jimin wears his emotions on his sleeve. The hesitant hope and utter fear of what he’s about to read is apparent, and it’s with a quivering lip that he calls out for his friend.

“Can you stay with me?” He quietly requests. Namjoon nods, hastily coming to sit across from his friend on the couch.

In the silence, Jimin reads through the letter. Namjoon watches as his brows furrow. A hint of a smile touches his cheeks at the very beginning, and he mumbles something about Elle. Then his lips part in a pained, silent gasp.

He’s silent throughout, however as he gets to the final few sentences, he finds himself reading through them again and again. It’s almost as though his eyes deceive him, like something isn’t quite connecting.

I still want you.

I still-

His thoughts are interrupted when Joon reaches out to lightly nudge his knee. “You ok?”

Ok?

“Yes?” It’s a question more for himself than anything. His eyes drift back to the page, to Jolie’s swirling handwriting and the promising statement within.

It terrifies him to the bone, which only makes him frustrated. In his utter confusion, he reads through the letter again, assessing every word.

It’s a question that Jimin hadn’t thought to ask himself before. Now that his soulmate seems within reach, he hesitates. Why?

She still wants him. And while her reasoning is sound, albeit leading to rash and hurtful choices, Jimin finds himself feeling like he’s missing something as those four words echo through his mind.

When the answer comes to him, he gasps it out as though he’d been holding his breath.

“I want to believe her,” he says, looking like he’s just about ready to cry from the frustration. “But I- I-”

Namjoon just nods, an understanding look in his eyes. It’s that look that helps to calm Jimin down, his racing heart finding solace in the fact that it might be normal to find it difficult to trust so readily.

“I can’t,” he quietly confesses. “Not yet.”

“You don’t have to,” Namjoon reassures. “Just take it one step at a time.”

Finally setting the letter down, Jimin rubs at his face. “What step are we even on?”

Namjoon chuckles quietly at his question. “Who knows. This is uncharted territory. But the way I see it, you’re in control now. You decide if you want to move forward with her in whatever way you see fit, or if you’re ready to just leave it behind. Have a fresh start.”

While both thoughts seem to have their own terrifying aspects, Jimin knows that leaving Jolie in the past simply isn’t an option.

“She said she had an aunt here, but Joon, that’s it. I’m all she’s got left.” He doesn’t know why he brings that up now, but his heart aches to think of it. For nearly a year now, she’s been so alone. Going through her grief, hardly coping. “Which may sound a little pretentious, but...I don’t want her to be alone.”

Namjoon leans back against the cushions, and Jimin seems to realize for the first time that he’s sitting on a table. He makes no move to get off of it, simply leaning forward on his elbows with a creased brow.

“Then maybe that’s where you two start,” Namjoon muses. “Neither one of you is ready to just dive into a relationship - that should be the last thing on your mind. But for now...just don’t let her be alone. I mean, the best you can while keeping your distance until, you know, you’re ready.”

Namjoon’s advice soothes the gaping hole in Jimin’s chest, letting him breathe freely for a moment. Just one step at a time.

He realizes, for perhaps the first time in his life, that just because she’s his soulmate, Jimin doesn’t have to immediately hand over his heart. It’s in pieces at the moment as is, partly due to the severed thread hanging from his left hand and partly due to the tangible heartbreak in Jolie’s letter.

No, Jimin can first let it mend. Take his time to heal.

Perhaps they can heal together.

✂

“Ah, I’ve seen you in the news!” Christina snaps her finger as she makes the connection, grinning at Chung-hei who chuckles.

“Yeah, that’s me,” she sheepishly admits. “Please tell me I look even better in person.”

“Oh,” I chime in, “loads better. You looked hideous in those pictures they used.”

Taking a huge bite, Chung-hei vigorously nods. “I know, right?! I seriously almost called them up to ask them where I could send some better photos. If they’re going to be talking about me, they might as well have some good pictures to use.”

Sunmi nearly chokes on her milkshake, fanning her cheeks as she stifles a laugh. Christina smiles fondly at Chung-hei and I.

“Why didn’t you?” She asks, clearly invested in the story now.

Chung-hei takes her question in stride, setting her chopsticks down. It’s a clear sign that she’s going to become fully immersed in the storytelling now. I lean back, ready to watch the show.

“Namjoon’s a protective idiot, that’s why.”

Now I’m the one choking, Sunmi hitting my back even as she grins devilishly. “What?! Did I just hear you say something other than praise about Namjoon?”

“Oh, shut up.”

“Make me.”

Chung-hei levels me with a glare, scooting her chair back to get up. I immediately throw my hands up in surrender. “Ok! Ok! Just keep telling your story!”

The first few minutes between all of my friends had felt like seeing three different worlds collide. Of course, Christina was the odd one out among the other two: her profession made her a bit of an odd candidate. A part of me was dying to tell her story, to help Chung-hei and Sunmi see just how amazing she was. However, all it took were a few jokes at my expense (something that Hei and Christina both have an uncanny ability to do) before the three of them were picking at their food and chatting like the neighborhood gossips that they surely are.

“What was it like?” Sunmi asks, and suddenly I’m thrown back into reality and realizing that I just missed the entire story.

“It was…” judging from the faraway look in Chung-hei’s eyes, she’s talking about when she first met Namjoon. “I don’t know. I always expected sparks to fly or the world to stop spinning, but it wasn’t like that at all.”

I glance over at Christina, gauging to see if we’re veering into something that might make her uncomfortable. She catches my gaze, giving me a little nod that tells me she’s alright. Interested in the conversation, even.

“It just felt like coming home after a long day,” Chung-hei continues. “Like kicking off tight shoes and scrunching up your toes in the warm grass. Like the most common, simple things that life has to offer, that somehow make you believe that everything really will be alright in the end.”

My emotions get caught in my throat as I think about those little things and realize that it’s been far too long since I last drank in the beautiful normal.

“Wow.” I’m not sure who whispers it, but I grunt in agreement.

“That sounds so nice,” Sunmi says with wide eyes. Chung-hei smiles a radiant smile, one that isn’t too wide but reaches her eyes anyways.

“Yeah. It really is.”

The four of us get a little lost in our own thoughts, but eventually Christina clears her throat and shoots me a pointed look.

“So...what happened last night?”

Ah. Right.

Just like that, the reminder that my letter may very well be in Jimin’s hands right now has me fidgeting in my seat, just like I did all throughout my session with Dr. Mo.

With a tight smile, I explain the events of last night. How I essentially poured out my heart in the letter (this earns me a proud smile from Chung-hei), and how I confessed that he was all I wanted still.

The memory of him under those dazzling lights at the concert rush back to me. His white shirt loose on his body, hair swept back mainly because he kept running his hands through it. Full lips parting into a smile just as quickly as they would melt into a teasing pout. The crowd was wrapped around his finger, nearly as tightly as the bright red thread dangling from his left hand.

The thread that I stared and stared at while Chung-hei and I slipped backstage, growing ever nearer. Getting close enough that I swore I could hear his voice, his laugh like a waterfall.

I was drowning in that laugh, unable to come up for air until I found myself practically begging on my knees outside of Christina’s apartment.

“Hey,” Christina gently pulls me from my tormented state. “Are you nervous?”

Taking a deep breath, I let it out slowly before answering. “Yes.”

Sunmi, who sits beside me on the couch, wraps an arm around my shoulder and gives me a tight squeeze. Chung-hei abandons her food, leaving it on the coffee table and coming to sit on the other side of me.

“You told the truth,” she quietly comforts. “And that’s all you could do.”

I clench my jaw, staring at a wooden knot in the coffee table before me. “I told him that I forgave myself. But I feel like there’s so much I’ve done wrong, I hurt him too much-”

It’s Christina that rises from her chair and pushes everyone’s food aside until she can sit on the edge of the coffee table and reach out to cup my chin. Once I raise my eyes to hers, I see a raging fire in them.

“You don’t look back.” Her voice is made of steel straight out of the fire. “You cannot punish yourself for what’s already happened any more than you already have. Move forward. The only way to heal is to move forward and be better.”

I wonder for a moment how many times she’s repeated that to herself on the days when the shadows seemed a little darker and her past loomed a little larger.

“What do you think he’ll do?” I ask, my voice small.

Chung-hei sighs softly. “He still wants you...but I don’t know. He might need some time, Jolie.”

It stings, but I force myself to nod. My only hope is that he’ll allow me to somehow be a part of the time he needs to take for himself.

Eventually I ease into a semi-comfortable state, my friends chatting it up while I try to focus. Try as I might, my mind wanders back again and again to the letter. Maybe it got lost in the mail. Or maybe it won’t be delivered until tomorrow.

Maybe they really thought it was a bill and won’t open it for days, forgetting about it. It’s probably laying on that stupid kitchen island that Taehyung wants me to use for rolling dough out, collecting dust-

When my phone vibrates, I nearly jump out of my skin. My jolt makes Sunmi and Chung-hei jump as well, giggling lightly.

“Sorry,” I mumble, fishing my phone out of my back pocket. “My phone just-”

Elle’s bf 🙀: Hey...can we talk? Like, call?

I’ve rarely been able to curse fluently, but today appears to be the exception as a string of curses flow under my breath. The sentiment is mirrored as Sunmi and Chung-hei peer over my shoulder.

Christina doesn’t need to see the text to know what just happened. “He texted?”

“I’m gonna die,” I breathe out in response, heart rate ratcheting up at an alarming rate. “Dead, I’m dead-”

“Ok, look at me,” Chung-hei grabs my shoulders and forces a warm smile onto her face. “This is good-”

“Good?!” I shriek, looking down at my phone and back up at her. “How is this good? I feel like I’m gonna puke-”

“Great, but save the puking for after the phone call,” Chung-hei butts back in, taking charge of the moment. “Because right now there’s a boy on the other side of that message trying to be brave, and he needs you. He’s probably freaking out, and he needs some answers and reassurance that his soulmate really actually meant every word she wrote in that letter. And you meant it, didn’t you?”

I find myself nodding along, wishing that I hadn’t just eaten a ridiculous amount of food. Not as my stomach churns at the thought of talking in real time with Jimin.

“Go ahead and text him back,” Sunmi coos, the calm to Hei’s invincible will. “And...you know what, nevermind. I’ll ask about the way you have him saved under your phone later.”

It takes me an embarrassing amount of time to formulate a response, and even longer to type it out without making any typos. Staring at the send button, I groan, unable to press it just yet.

“I really might throw up.”

“I’ll get you a glass of water.” Christina springs up from the couch as Chung-hei begins to rub soothing lines up and down my arms. Despite the warm temperature in the room, I can’t stop shivering.

“If you want us here, that’s fine...but I also think it might be good for it to just be the two of you. So you can talk freely” Hei gently advises, so different from the little pep talk mere moments before.

I stare at the wall, chewing ferociously on the inside of my lip. The thought of my friends not being here makes me feel even more vulnerable, but at the same time I know this is something I have to do alone.

“Will you come back after?”

“Of course,” Sunmi reassures. “We’ll just go on a ride or something while you two talk. Text us when you’re done, and we’ll be back before you know it.”

Christina sets the glass of water in my hand, urging me to drink. With a few swigs that help to clear my head and temporarily calm my stomach, I press send.

Me: Of course. I’m free right now, go ahead and call if you can.

I’m not sure if I want to cry or squeal.

Both. I want to do both.

My three friends get up (Christina taking her food with her, a detail I hardly notice) and file through the door, offering me warm smiles and words of encouragement. Try and I might, I can hardly register them amidst the swirling feelings of panic and doubt crawling through my veins.

The sound of the door closing is what makes the first tear slip out.

Grabbing my phone and staring at the couch before deciding that I’d rather the comfort of my blankets and pillows, I jump and stub my toe against the coffee table when Elle jumps through the kitchen window. She appears to be unbothered, but follows me into my room and leaps onto the bed. She circles my feet before brushing up against my calves, laying between my legs. Resting her chin on my shin, she looks up at me with those big eyes of hers.

Waiting, just like I am.

I’m not sure how long it takes, but it feels like an agonizing eternity before the phone finally rings.

When it does, I scoop it up and stare at if for a moment. I pinch myself for good measure, giving myself one last chance to wake up.

Of course, I don’t wake up. This isn’t a dream. I realize that when my shaky thumb swipes to accept the call and I bring the phone to my ear.

It’s quiet, but I can hear the soft, shaky breath on the other side of the phone. Almost like Jimin was holding his breath but couldn’t quite hold it any longer.

It takes me approximately four seconds to remember that I’m supposed to say hello.

Of course, I fail even at that. “Jimin?”

It’s not the most eloquent way to answer the phone, but I need to know.

“Jolie.”

✂

“Jimin?”

Jimin stands outside on the balcony, facing the large pines that obscure his view of the rest of the neighborhood. When he hears the breathy, slightly panicked voice on the other end of the phone, he realizes that he should definitely be sitting down for this conversation.

“Jolie.” It’s a statement that should have been a question, but he knows - knew, from the single syllable his soulmate had utter, his name, no less, that it had been her.

It had to be her. His name had never sounded so beautiful coming from any other mouth.

When the silence stretches on, Jimin sinks to the ground and sits facing those great pines. The railing obstructs his view a bit, but it isn’t like he’s actually watching them. No, his gaze is a little dazed as he scrambles for something to say.

“I- I got your letter.”

There’s a pause in which Jimin is absolutely positive he hears a sniffle - the pitiful sound making him reach out to grab the metal bars of the balcony railing for support.

“Oh.” And then, “I’m sorry, I’m such a mess right now-”

“No, I am too,” Jimin rushes to reassure her. “I think it’s safe to say that we’re both a bit of a mess.”

He hears a wry chuckle and suddenly he can’t help but smile slightly, basking in the short-lived sound. “Jimin, I…”

“What?” Eager to hear what comes next, Jimin can’t help but widen his eyes as if that will urge Jolie to continue.

“I...t-thank you for the flowers.”

Someone might as well have brought him back to life. Shoulders relaxing and lungs expanding, Jimin blinks and finally sees the trees.

“Thank you for the letter.”

✂

Jimin’s voice is deeper than I thought it would be. His soft, angelic singing voice acts as a good cover for the delicious timbre coming through the phone.

Of course, I may be biased.

“You’re welcome,” I manage to squeak out. “You deserved an explanation. I hope it didn’t leave you more confused than before.”

“No,” he responds, dragging the word out in a way that makes me feel warm. “It was beautiful. I’m so sorry, Jolie, about your parents. I wish I could do something- change it.”

The familiar pang of pain strikes true, but it fails to linger like it normally does. “It’s nobody’s fault, Jimin.” His name is delicious on my tongue, and I fight the urge to say it again. “But I really, just...I know saying I’m sorry doesn’t cut it, but for what it’s worth...I’m sorry. So, so sorry.”

It’s quiet except for the sound of a breeze and distant chirping, leading me to believe that he’s outside. If I close my eyes, I’m right there with him.

“Thank you. I...that means a lot. Thank you.” He takes a deep breath, and I can tell that he’s getting to the reason he called in the first place. “This might sound a little strange, but I need to say it.”

“Go on,” I urge.

“You mentioned - don’t hate me, because you said it was the cheesy part,” I can’t help but snort at his playful manner that peeks through. “But you sounded like you were willing to give this a try…? Give us a try?”

Blinking rapidly to dispel any lingering tears, I nod even though he can’t see me. “Yes. But only if you want to. I completely understand if you feel like you can’t after everything that’s happened-”

“I want to. I- I want you.”

My heart pounding in my ears, I bite down a gasp. “You do?”

“But just...can we take this slowly?”

Letting out a sigh of relief, a tentative smile makes its way to my lips. “Yes, please.”

Judging from Jimin’s little laugh, he’s more than happy with my response. “Good. I just don’t want to be alone anymore, you know? And hey, if I remember correctly, you thought I was funny-

“Woah, I thought Jaemin was funny, not you. You’re gonna have to start all over now.”

Jimin makes a sound of protest that I hope masks the schoolgirl-like giggle I let out at the sound. “Really? You’re ridiculous. Hey! Is Elle there?”

“Oh, she is! She’s sitting here eavesdropping, wanna say hello?”

“Yes, put me on speaker. I’ve missed my cat.”

“Your cat? Really?”

“Yah, put me on speaker already-”

His voice cuts off, and I strain to hear another person that speaks in the background. It’s muffled, but despite the poor quality I can hear the panic in their voice. A moment later Jimin returns, however his joking banter is gone. Indeed, he sounds deadly serious as he tries to calmly speak.

“Jolie,” he begins, and suddenly it’s cold. “You’re at home, right?”

“Yeah,” I answer. “What happened?”

“Stay inside,” Jimin instructs, not answering my question. “Do not leave, you understand me? And don’t let anyone inside. I don’t care who it is, do not let anyone in.”

My blood runs cold at that. “Jimin, you’re scaring me, what’s going-”

“Promise me.”

The pure desperation in his voice leaves me paralyzed, but I manage to speak. “I promise. But Jimin, what’s happening? Is everything ok?”

“I’ll call you tonight, ok? Just- don’t leave.”

With that, he bids me goodbye and the line clicks off. Scrambling to pull up the numer, I immediately call Chung-hei.

It rings and rings, eventually going to her voicemail. I end the call only to begin a new one to Christina.

Again, no answer.

Sunmi’s number is the last one I try, holding the phone up to my ear. “C’mon, pick up, pick up,” I chant, pulling my knees up to my chest.

But it just rings, over and over again.

“Hello, this is Kang Sunmi. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to take your call, please leave a message-”

Ending the call with a violent jab, I start the calls again from the top.

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