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choerrypuffs · 6 months ago

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AITA for setting my cheating ex's car on fire? (and then falling for his cousin)

pairing: firefighter!haechan x reader

genre: fluff

word count: 8.6k

synopsis: revenge is best served cold―or on fire. literally.

author’s note: luvpuffcore is finally back!! ilysm cat and moon and thank you for another amazing year of friendship <333 i truly am the #1 most successful fan of all time 🤩 also special shoutout to cat for letting me use some of her creepy dms and moon for sharing her league knowledge yall are god's strongest soldiers fr !! happy new year, my loves ✨🎆💞

warning(s): mentions/threats of violence, sexual jokes, y/n commits arson but in a girly pop way (pls don't try this at home), character assassination of mark

playlist: get him back! by olivia rodrigo ― is it new years yet? sabrina carpenter ― drinks or coffee by rosé ― risk by gracie abrams ― mastermind by taylor swift

additional: check out a nonsense christmas: reddit edition collab!

r/AmITheAsshole

u/justgirlythings-arson119 • 3d

AITA for setting my cheating ex’s car on fire? (and then falling for his cousin)

I (24F) caught my boyfriend cheating on me with a discord kitten he met on League of Legends two days before our anniversary. I proceeded to have the biggest crash out ever known to man, bought a gallon of gasoline, went to his house in the middle of the night, and lit his car on fire. I had completely forgotten his cousin was a firefighter in the area, and he showed up at the scene, which hindered my masterful plan a little bit. Luckily, my ex didn’t press any charges though because no way in hell he’s going to admit he has a discord kitten in a court of law. Anyways, the next day, my ex groveled and begged me to go to his family’s Christmas party with him so that he could save face in front of his mommy. Long story short―let’s just say it didn’t go well. His cousin ended up driving me home, and I think maybe I’ve fallen for him?

⥣ 9.8k ⥥ 1,439 Comments

mcballs-im-lovin-it0323 • 2d YTA for not crashing out even harder bc i woulda slept with his entire bloodline if he played in my face like that 🙂‍↕️

➥ Reply ⥣ 2.8k ⥥

picklepounder1010 • 1d would’ve had him calling me mama, papa, auntie, uncle, grandma, grandpa etc fr 😩 ➥ ⥣ 943 ⥥

god-of-donuts0423 • 1d YTA for dating a lol player

➥ Reply ⥣ 1.1k ⥥

goonknight1027 • 5h no way this post is about that twink lol streamer ➥ ⥣ 629 ⥥

part one | oh, i wanna key his car…or light it ablaze?

onyourmark 12/1/2024 3:03 PM heyyy u play lol too 😂

onyourmark 12/1/2024 3:05 PM im a yasuo main 😂

onyourmark 12/1/2024 3:10 PMwhat kinda asian are u

onyourmark 12/1/2024 3:10 PMwhatchu look like

onyourmark 12/1/2024 3:10 PMsorry was that too much 😂😂😂

Your best friend, Rosie, has to put your phone down and take a few deep breaths. “I think I’m going to throw up.”

“Keep going. You haven’t even seen the worst of it,” you respond through a mouthful of strawberry ice cream, completely deadpan.

onyourmark 12/7/2024 6:21 AM ahh 😂😂

onyourmark 12/7/2024 6:22 PM *kisses you*

onyourmark 12/12/2024 5:39 PM can i tell U something weird :3 😂

onyourmark 12/12/2024 5:40 PM[Audio Message]

onyourmark 12/12/2024 5:39 PMi wrote this rap about my feelings for y baby girl

onyourmark 12/12/2024 5:39 PMbecause uve been such a good gril for me

onyourmark 12/12/2024 5:57 PM holy fck holy dcking fck that body of urs is absurd

Rosie covers her mouth with her hand, closing her eyes in a grimace. “No way he copied Adam Levine unironically.”

“Keep going.”

onyourmark Yesterday at 1:20 AMwhen can i see u

onyourmark Yesterday at 1:20 AM ill be free after christmas

onyourmark Yesterday at 1:20 AM after annyign fam stuff 😂😂😂

Every message Rosie reads feels like another sucker punch in your gut and your ego, but you just dig your spoon into the tub of ice cream with even more force and let her keep going. Every time you blink, you feel dried up mascara flaking off your eyelashes and getting stuck in the dried tears and snot on your cheeks.

“‘Annoying fam stuff?’ Is he talking about your anniversary?” Rosie demands.

Yes, your anniversary with your now ex-boyfriend, Mark Lee, is on Christmas. You used to think it was romantic. What a goddamn idiot you were.

“At least he called me family,” you reply wryly, a hysterical laugh rattling in your chest like a wet cough.

Rosie shakes her head and hands your phone back to you. “I can’t read any more of this. I’m going to be sick. I thought Discord mods and Discord kittens were just memes. I can’t believe people like him actually exist.”

You just shrug.

“Where the hell is he now?” She crosses her arms.

“Probably at his parents’ house. They’re on a ski trip, and they won’t be back until tomorrow,” you sigh, getting a headache thinking about how you were going to explain this to Mark’s parents.

“Good. Change the locks on your door before he tries to come crawling back. He’s done mooching off you,” Rosie huffs.

“You were right,” you state matter-of-factly, “That he was just a jobless bum loser who’s a momma’s boy.”

She looks guilty, leaning over and giving you a hug. “I’m sorry, Y/N.”

You think about the time you first met Mark, when the two of you were just starry-eyed freshmen in college together. He was so awkward and shy that it took almost an entire semester for him to finally look you in the eye. He followed you around like a sad puppy and would get flustered at any prolonged amount of attention you gave him. After about three years of him being hopelessly in love with you and unable to work up the courage to ask you out, you finally decided to give him a chance in your final year of college. It was a white Christmas, and you remember his trembling hands holding your face, freezing cold fingertips brushing your cheeks, and how red his nose was when he leaned in to kiss you. He looked at you as if you were a goddess that was put on this Earth purely for him to worship.

Maybe that’s why you moved in together with him when the two of you graduated, even when he was unemployed and you supported him financially. Maybe that’s why you smiled and nodded when he told you he wanted to try being a Twitch streamer. Maybe that’s why you gifted him his first microphone for his setup, or baked him a cake when he finally got his first viewer (even though it was actually a secret account that you made in order to boost his confidence). Maybe that’s why you never complained when he started skipping out on dates (sometimes even your birthday) in favor of growing his audience, or when he bought you extravagant gifts like jewelry or designer clothes without any clue of your preference or size. Maybe that’s why you chose to ignore the churning feeling in the pit of your stomach when you noticed his eyes starting to drift towards anything but you.

Maybe you were always the one who worshipped him.

It’s almost comical how easily almost a decade of your life has gone down the drain―and all it took was a couple of laughing emojis. In the end, the one who loves more is always the one who loses the most.

You gave up your best years to Mark Lee, and yet you seemed to have run out of tears to cry for this man.

Instead, all you have left now is pure, unbridled rage boiling inside of you. It’s the kind of anger that needs to simmer first―the kind that manifests first as a calm indifference before it finally bubbles over into a complete meltdown. But you’ll be damned before you set fire to your mental health and personal belongings that you worked tooth and nail for over a man who ruined your life.

So, you’ve decided to set fire to something else.

“Rosie,” you say softly, your voice chillingly serene. “I’m going to set his car on fire.”

Rosie laughs. “Want me to be your getaway driver?”

“No, I wouldn’t want to implicate you,” you respond smoothly. “Besides, I want him to know that I’m the one who did it.”

She looks at you for a moment, trying to decide if you’re joking or not. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes. I don’t have the energy to care about him anymore,” you answer―only a half lie. “You should go now. I know you have a late shift tonight.”

Rosie gives you another tight squeeze. “Call me if you need anything, okay? I’m off this weekend, so we should go get drunk off our asses.”

After she leaves, you slowly get up and make your way to the bathroom. You wash your face in the sink, scrubbing on the gunk off, and apply a fresh layer of makeup. If you’re going to do this, you’re going to make sure you look hot as hell (pun intended). Once you’re done, you make your way to the nearest gas station and purchase a gallon of gasoline before promptly driving to Mark’s parent’s house.

By the time you get there, it’s already close to midnight, and not even the darkness can shroud Mark’s new Tesla Cybertruck. You remember when he bought it because you had to pay for half of his rent for the month because he was saving up for it―the smug grin on his face, as he announced it to his Twitch chat. You’re embarrassed at how happy you were for him, and you didn’t even have the heart to tell him how hideous you found it. The truck’s mirrored exterior reflects the moon in the starless night sky, and the full moon almost looks like a shiny, pretty bullseye calling out for you to destroy it.

Without hesitation, you get out of your car and immediately start dumping gasoline all over and around the car. The scent of gasoline normally makes you nauseous, but the scent of revenge smells even sweeter. Before you take out your lighter, you pick up a large piece of broken concrete from his driveway. With all of the strength you can muster, you hurl the concrete into the driver side window of the truck and watch your reflection shatter along with the glass.

The car alarm starts blaring, and you wait for the light in Mark’s room to blink on. You see his silhouette as he opens his blinds and peers out, just to lock eyes with you. He gawks at you like he’s just seen a ghost, and it doesn’t take long for him to make his way down to you. As he stumbles down the driveway, you take out your lighter and flick it on, letting it slowly slip from your fingertips. Your heart swells with a hysterical sense of glee as his eyes widen, the orange flames reflecting in his teary eyes. His Cybertruck is set ablaze with a Hollywood-esque level of perfection, and the fire gives your face a golden glow as if you were the starring actress.

“Y/N! Are you fucking crazy?” Mark hollers over the crackle of the flames, voice breaking.

“Oh, you bet I fucking am,” you laugh.

“I’m gonna sue you―you bitch! Have you thrown in jail!” he screams, fishing his phone out of his pocket and punching in 911 on the keypad. “I’m calling the cops right now!”

“Do it, you spineless piece of shit! I’m going to make sure everyone in this damn neighborhood and on the internet knows what a lying, cheating, soul-sucking little leech you are!” you yell back at him. “I’m going to ruin your fucking career first and then happily walk my ass down to the police station.”

That makes Mark stop in his tracks, his thumb hovering over the dial button. He can’t control the fear on his face. “No one is gonna believe you.”

“Aw, you sure no one will believe me when I show everyone the screenshots of your DMs with uwukittenbb69?” you taunt.

“I’ll say they’re fake!” he nearly screeches.

“Let’s fucking go then! My word against yours. We’ll see who they believe,” you challenge.

Mark falters and takes a small step forward. “W-Wait…”

Unfortunately for him, he’s interrupted by the squealing sirens of a firetruck pulling up to the street. You and Mark exchange glances, and you silently dare him to report you, before both of you turn towards the firefighters exiting the truck.

“Mark…and Y/N?”

Your eyes widen at the sound of the approaching firefighter’s voice. You watch in horror as the firefighter removes his helmet, and you get a clearer look at his face. Tufts of wavy caramel-colored hair sticking out, a youthful and angelic face that doesn��t suit his occupation, and heart-shaped lips turned downwards in concern―it’s Mark’s cousin, Donghyuck. You’ve met him a decent amount of times at family gatherings, and he sometimes drops by you and Mark’s apartment to deliver homemade food from his mom. Donghyuck has always been kind to you, and you didn’t want him to see you like this.

Donghyuck’s confusion is short-lived before his attention falls back to the fire and how close you are to it. He quickly grabs your arm and pulls you away from the burning truck.

“Be careful. Are you hurt?” he asks carefully, eyes scanning your face with precision. “And why aren’t you wearing a jacket? It’s freezing out here.”

You open your mouth to try and fumble out an answer, but you flinch at the sound of Donghyuck’s colleagues blasting Mark’s car with water from the firetruck’s power hose. All that’s left of the Cybertruck is a deformed and blackened pile of scrap metal with a plume of smoke rising from it. You can’t help the sense of satisfaction you feel.

“Don’t breathe in the smoke. It’s not good for you,” Donghyuck urges, gently sticking an arm in front of you and gesturing for you to step back even further. “Come with me. There’s blankets in the back of the truck.”

“I’m fine,” you finally manage to say, shaking your head. “I’m not cold.”

It’s true; the fire you set has been more than enough to make your insides feel all warm and fuzzy. He doesn’t look like he believes you but doesn’t try to push any further.

“Okay, so what the hell happened here? We got a call from the neighbors saying there was a blazing ball on fire in Mark’s driveway and that the two of you were in a screaming match.”

“Ask Mark,” is all you say.

Donghyuck raises an eyebrow.

“It was an accident.”

As if on cue, Mark suddenly materializes next to you and Donghyuck―a restless expression on his face. He probably thought you were telling Donghyuck what he did to you and rushed over.

“What?” Donghyuck’s eyes nearly pop out of his head. “You’re saying that was an accident?”

“Yeah. I was just…messing around. Don’t worry about it. It was an accident,” Mark says through gritted teeth, sounding completely defeated.

The corners of your mouth twitch when you chime in, “A senseless accident.”

Donghyuck is completely speechless as he glances between the two of you. However, you look past him and watch the fireworks exploding in the dark sky. Pulling out your phone, you see that it’s midnight, meaning it’s officially the 25th of December. Glancing over at Mark, you see him trembling in the cold with a sniffly red nose and bloodshot eyes. He’s staring straight at the ground, fists clenched.

You smile.

part two | wanna push him in the fireplace and watch him burn!

When you finally get home that night, you draw yourself a steaming hot bubble bath and even use the fancy bath bomb that Rosie bought you. After you get dressed, you make a charcuterie board and pour yourself a glass of wine as well before falling asleep to a Hallmark movie playing on your television. It’s probably the best sleep you’ve gotten over the past month.

You wake up in the morning feeling refreshed, a certain five-foot-nine burden lifted from your shoulders, and text all of your friends and family your holiday greetings. Rosie invited you out to her family gathering because she didn’t want you to be alone on Christmas, but you declined. You decided to stay home and get some cleaning done. Of course, by cleaning, you mean boxing up all of Mark’s stuff and donating it to Goodwill. You initially wanted to burn everything, but you’ve committed enough arson already.

Just as you’re getting ready to make a hearty breakfast in preparation for the mass Mark exodus, you hear the door to your apartment being opened, and your blood runs cold when you realize you haven’t changed the lock. Then your cold blood begins to boil at the audacity that Mark still must have in his pathetic little body to even dream of stepping foot in your home.

Gripping your frying pan tightly, you march out of the kitchen to greet him. Mark at least has the sense to shrivel back when he sees you approach him. To your delight, he looks absolutely terrible. It’s obvious he didn’t get any sleep nor did he feel the need to change out of his pajamas.

“I know you’re mad,” he says quickly, holding his hands out as if ready to block a punch.

“If you actually knew that, you wouldn’t have stepped foot in my apartment,” you say nonchalantly. “You have ten seconds to give my key back to me and get the hell out before you have to call the cops again.”

“Chill, chill,” he mutters, “I’m just here for my stuff―”

“Don’t tell me to chill. I’ve always hated it when you tell me that. It makes you sound like a patronizing douchebag, which you are, of course,” you snap. “You’re insane if you think I’m going to let you just waltz in here and casually get your stuff. Most of which I paid for, by the way.”

“Y/N, come on,” he sighs. “at least let me get my PC setup.”

That makes you burst out laughing. “Holy shit. You really have the gall to ask me for your PC setup? Are you on actual crack? Get the fuck out!”

“Okay, okay, okay. I’m sorry, okay? Just one more thing―”

“Don’t make me swear to Jesus on his birthday―”

“My mom wants you to come to the Christmas party this afternoon,” he blurts out, squeezing his eyes shut. “I…haven’t told her yet. I wanted us to tell her, um, together, after the party.”

He doesn’t need to say it for you to understand what he’s implying. He wants to make it seem like the breakup was mutual to save his reputation and because he knows his mom will lose her mind. He’s pretended to be her perfect little boy his entire life, a momma’s boy to the very core, so he can’t ever let her know what a bottomfeeder he is.

“Is this some sort of social experiment to see how far you can push my limits before I finally snap? Again?” you ask incredulously.

“Please, Y/N. I’ll do anything. I won’t ask for my stuff anymore. I won’t tell anyone about the car thing. I promise you that you won’t ever see me again if you do me this favor,” Mark sputters.

You hate that you still hesitate, despite how much you’re disgusted by him. It makes you feel like you haven’t completely axed the part of you that was in love with him, and that sickens you. However, Mrs. Lee has always been like a second mother to you, and it doesn’t feel right to just cut her off without a proper goodbye just because her son is a cretin. You suppose this could be good closure for such an ill-fated relationship.

“You swear on your life that you’ll leave me alone forever after this?” you ask, crossing your arms.

Mark nods profusely.

“Fine. I’m only staying for an hour, and I don’t care if the party isn’t over yet. We’re going to tell her within that period or else,” you state.

“Thank you. Thank you so much, Y/N.” Mark opens his arms to hug you, and it takes every fiber in your being not to whack him across the head with your frying pan.

“Do not touch me,” you warn, “Now get out.”

To his credit, he promptly hightails it out of your apartment (perhaps he finally noticed the murderous glint in your eye). You almost immediately regret agreeing, but you tell yourself that today is the last day that you’ll ever have to deal with the likes of Mark Lee again. Putting a hold on cleaning, you get ready for the party instead, donning a cute holiday fit that you had prepared especially for today since it was supposed to be your anniversary. Now, it makes for a great revenge dress.

Mark had texted you to let you know to bring a gift since there would be a white elephant gift exchange, and half of you wants to call him and scream at him for not letting you know sooner and the other half is screaming at yourself for forgetting to block him. Not having enough time to go out and buy a gift, you decide to wrap up the scarf that you knitted for Mark. You stayed up all night after you got off work to make it for him, and it looks a bit wonky, but you thought he would appreciate it. You feel bad for whoever receives it, but there has to be a few duds in the mix or it’s not a true white elephant experience. Maybe they can use the scarf to wipe up their dog’s piss or something.

When you drive back to Mark’s parents’ house, it’s an ironic clash of atmospheres. The place is decked out with Christmas decorations, an amalgamation of rainbow lights, inflatable snowmen, and wreaths on every door and window. Yet, you can also see remnants of the dark burn marks in their driveway. Mark must have managed to call a tow to take his Cybertruck away just in the nick of time. You do wonder how he managed to explain the burn marks, though.

Taking in a deep breath, you hype yourself up in your car visor mirror before stepping out and walking to the front door. Before you can even knock, Mrs. Lee opens the door and envelops you in a bear hug. She smells like sugar cookies, and it occurs to you how much you’ll miss her.

“Oh, sweetie! I’m so glad you’re here,” she coos, cupping your face. She then ushers you into the living room, linking her arm through yours. “I was so worried because I thought the two of you got into a fight while we were on our trip.”

You just smile uncomfortably. “O-Oh.”

“A mother’s intuition is always right, you know,” she says, winking, “Plus, I knew something was off when Mark told us he’d be staying at our place for a couple nights. Poor boy was a mess, you know. He somehow managed to total his car in the driveway! Can you believe it? He really needs you around to whip him into shape!”

You hope she can’t see you holding in a laugh. As you’re walking, you scan the room for Mark, but he’s nowhere to be seen. It doesn’t surprise you one bit that you’re being treated as fodder so he can hide in his room.

“Anyways, say hi to everyone!” She leads you directly into a circle of Mark’s aunt and uncles. You give them all an awkward hello and try to slink away while they all converse, but one of Mark’s aunts turns towards you.

“So, how long have you and Mark been together, honey?” she asks.

“Um, about four years―”

“Oh, but they’ve known each other for much longer than that. Seven years! Mark had the biggest crush on her, you know,” Mrs. Lee interjects.

“My goodness, does that mean we’ll be hearing wedding bells soon?” Mark’s aunt teases. The rest of the circle oohs and ahhs, and you want to strangle yourself with a garland.

“I mean, what is he waiting for anyway? He’s making loads of money on the Internet now, isn’t he?” she continues.

“Exactly. I want grandchildren, you know,” Mrs. Lee huffs.

Unable to bite back your words anymore, you clear your throat loudly. “I have something I need to―”

“Oh, Y/N! I’ve been looking for you,” another voice chimes in.

All of you turn around, and a gasp nearly escapes you when you see Donghyuck standing in front of you. He’s in a white cable knit sweater, and his wavy hair looks so fluffy that you almost want to reach out and touch it. His cheeks are a bit flushed, probably because he’s in such thick clothing (or Mrs. Lee’s famous spiked eggnog). Without his uniform on, he looks much softer, dreamier.

“You…have?” you ask, bewildered.

“Yup! Come on, I gotta ask you something,” he answers cheerfully, gesturing for you to follow him.

You’re a bit wary of what he’s scheming, but you’d rather risk it than have to deal with any more marriage talk, so you gladly let him whisk you away from the crowd. Donghyuck leads you to a less crowded part of the room, swiping a piece of chocolate cake when he walks past the dessert table, and tucks himself into a corner that’s concealed by a giant Christmas tree.

“Here we go. I introduce to you my super covert corner that I stand in when I want to avoid nosy relatives,” he says in a sing-song voice before offering you the cake in his hand. “Would you like some German chocolate cake made by yours truly? It’s pretty damn average, if I do say so myself.”

You pause, only just now realizing that Donghyuck helped you out. You suppose you have nothing to lose, so you accept the cake. “Oh. Thank you. So, you didn’t have anything you wanted to ask me?”

“Well, actually, I do,” he hums, giving you a sheepish grin. “You set Mark’s car on fire last night, didn’t you?”

Part of you already expected this question coming, so you manage to keep your expression neutral. “Are you accusing me?”

“Why, I wouldn’t dare. Besides, I don’t need to. I know you did,” he says casually, shrugging.

Even though you should feel panicked, you don’t. In fact, Donghyuck almost seems to find it amusing.

“Do you have proof?”

“Mark told me,” he states sweetly.

You sigh loudly, immediately giving up the ruse. “I knew that damn lowlife would yap.”

“So, what did he do?”

“Of course, he told you what I did but didn’t tell you what he did,” you snort.

“What, he cheat or something?”

“Worse.”

You pull out your phone and show Donghyuck Mark’s Discord DMs and watch his expression morph into disgust as you indulge in the cake he gave you. The dessert is perfectly average as he said, but there’s something charming about it. In that way, the cake is quite similar to its maker.

“As a government employee and resident fighter of fires, nothing justifies arson,” he states after a brief moment to collect his thoughts, “but this comes pretty damn close.”

You give him a smug I-told-you-so look.

“But seriously, what you did was really dangerous, Y/N. You could have injured yourself badly. That jackass is not worth getting third-degree burns over. There are better ways to get revenge, you know,” he lectures.

“Like what?” You raise an eyebrow.

“I don’t know, like TP or egg his car or something. Slash his tires?”

“God, are you from a 90s movie or something? That’s lame as hell,” you snort, taking another bite of cake.

“Dig your key into the side of his pretty little souped up four-wheel drive? Carve your name into his leather seats? Take a Louisville slugger to both headlights? Slash a hole in all four tires?” He wriggles his eyebrows.

“Are you quoting Before He Cheats by Carrie Underwood?” you ask incredulously.

“Maybe next time he’ll think before he cheats…” Donghyuck sings, purposefully off-key.

You can’t fight that smile that spreads across your face, and it eventually turns into a full-on belly laugh when he continues to sing. It’s the first genuine laugh, the first moment of brief happiness and relief, that you’ve felt in a long time. You thought you had it when you set Mark’s car on fire, but something still coiled in the pit of your stomach like simmering, black smoke. In this tiny little corner that smells of pine needles and chocolate cake, you feel free like a clear sky after a long winter storm.

“For the record,” Donghyuck says, voice gently dipping, “you’ve always been too good for him, and everyone knows it―including him. He’ll regret what he did to you for the rest of his life. That’s your revenge.”

Your breath staccatos in your chest at his words. You tell yourself that he has always been a smooth talker, but he looks at you with such honesty and warmth that you want to believe him.

“Have you always been this sweet?” You meant for the words to come out in a teasing manner, but your voice is tinged with breathlessness.

Donghyuck grins, and his lips remind you of the heart-shaped lollipops that you see in the store during Valentine’s Day. “The sweetest.”

A part of you wonders what would happen if you craned your neck and kissed him right here and now. Not because you’re romantically interested in him, of course. Rather, it would be a spectacular way to get revenge on Mark. Most girls go for the brother or the best friend―maybe even the dad if one is particularly ambitious―but the cousin is an untapped (pun NOT intended) medium for revenge.

You wonder if Donghyuck tastes like cookies or wine-filled chocolates or spiked eggnog or even fruitcake. You really hate fruitcake, but you suppose you wouldn’t mind for the sake of revenge.

But you would never do that to him. He’s much too kind of a person to be involved in you and Mark’s mess. The fact that you’re able to confide in him and he actually takes your side is something that you truly appreciate. As much as you want to torment Mark, it’s best to just end it here.

“You can use me too, you know,” Donghyuck adds.

“Huh?” You blink.

“For your revenge,” he clarifies. “Use me. To make him jealous, to bully him, whatever you want.”

For a moment, you almost believe he somehow read your mind.

“Just wanted to let you know,” he says, shrugging, “since you probably think it would be too mean. Plus, I think you would need my help anyways.”

That makes you feel greatly offended. “What is that supposed to mean? You say that like I didn’t set a car on fire.”

“You’re too naive in your thinking. Revenge doesn’t always have to be loud and in your face like that. It’s a lot more fun when you break them down psychologically in more subtle ways,” he explains.

“So, you―as a government employee―can’t approve of me committing arson because I got cheated on, but you―as a government employee―can casually and openly discuss waging psychological warfare on another civilian. On said person who cheated on me, who also happens to be your cousin because you seemed to have forgotten that, ” you point out sardonically.

Donghyuck just smiles before slightly leaning in, eyes flickering down to your lips. You open your mouth to retort but your words instantly die in your throat, softly gasping when his hand brushes your chin as he reaches over and swipes a bit of chocolate frosting from your bottom lip with his thumb.

“Sure I can,” he answers smoothly, “because, unlike a certain someone, I won’t get caught.”

“I didn’t―”

“And by the way, Mark didn’t tell me you set his car on fire.”

You gawk at him as he walks past you with a content grin on his face. “Now come on, I hear my aunt calling for us.”

Maybe you need to take back your earlier statement of Donghyuck being too kind. He might actually have more screws loose than you.

You almost completely forget about Mark until he finally comes downstairs for the white elephant exchange. You’re in such a daze from your earlier interaction with Donghyuck that you barely recoil when Mark takes a seat beside you on the couch, especially since Donghyuck is sitting in the rocking chair directly across from you.

The gift exchange begins once everyone has drawn a number, and you honestly just dissociate for the first half of it. Keeping your gaze trained on the piece of paper that has 26 scribbled on it, you don’t look up until you feel Mark get up beside you and pick a gift from the pile. You’re praying to both Jesus and Santa that he doesn’t pick yours, but you suppose you've been deemed a sinner and also put on the Naughty List (maybe for setting your cheating ex’s care on fire?) because Mark somehow manages to find yours in the pile of presents.

When he opens it, you can tell by the way he quickly glances at you that he knows it’s yours. After all, he saw you practicing your knitting throughout the week. He happily wraps it around his neck and beams proudly. “I love it.”

The way he carefully looks back at you makes you want to smack him into the new year. You know he’s trying to get on your good side, and you make it clear with your scowl that it isn’t working.

You’re actually grateful that it’s your turn next so that you’re able to get up and walk away from him. Wanting to get this entire situation over with, you haphazardly grab one from the top of the pile. Your heart sinks when you take out the stuffing paper from the bag and realize that it’s Mark’s gift. You contemplate putting the paper back in and not opening it at all, but you cave under the pressure of all the expectant pairs of eyes on you.

In typical Mark fashion, his gift is a signed T-shirt of his own merch. It’s an obnoxious yellow color with his Twitch username and a giant screen printed image of his face plastered across it. He’s written his signature right over his forehead, so it makes him look like he has random chicken scratch on his face.

“Oh, it must be destiny!” Mrs. Lee exclaims, clapping her hands together.

You force a smile before returning to your seat, doing everything in your power to ignore Mark’s stupid giddy expression. Shoving the shirt back into the bag, you casually kick it away from you.

A couple more people take their turns, and you’re counting down the seconds to when this is finally over so you can go home. Eventually, it’s Donghyuck’s turn, and he saunters towards you and holds his hand out.

“Gimme.”

You blink at him.

“Your gift. I’m stealing it,” he explains, wiggling his fingers.

“You want…this?” you ask, completely baffled.

“Well, duh. It’s going to sell for a lot of money, you know.” He winks.

You can’t help but laugh when you realize he’s helping you out again. “This has to be unethical. Aren’t you a government employee?”

“Government employees need to make money too,” he replies, sighing.

“Well, if you really want it, I guess I have no choice,” you huff, faking exasperation before handing him the bag.

You’re smiling when he takes it and walks back to his chair, and you hear Mark grumble something under his breath. Turning to him, you raise an eyebrow, snippily asking, “What?”

“I said,” he repeats so loudly that it reverberates throughout the room, “when did the two of you get so friendly?”

A silence falls over everyone, and the two of you are now center stage.

“Are you really going to do this now?” you hiss.

“I noticed that the two of you were getting awfully cozy behind the Christmas tree earlier,” Mark retorts, shrugging.

Donghyuck gets up to intervene, but he doesn’t have time to even react before you grab a pillow from the couch and chuck it in Mark’s face.

“You’ve got some nerve. Was this your plan all along? To make me look like the bad guy in front of your family?” you demand, feeling your face grow hotter and hotter from rage. “You and uwukittenbb69 were getting awfully cozy too, don’t you think? I’d say snug as a bug in a goddamn rug even.”

Mark stands up in a flash, his eyes frantically glancing at his mom before pointing his finger at you. “Baby, I told you she was just a friend.”

You nearly choke on air when you hear him call you that. Making a beeline towards the pile of presents, you begin to toss them at Mark with each question you add. “You absolute lunatic. Do friends beg each other for pictures of their tits? Do friends write raps confessing their love for one another? Do friends blow off their anniversary with their girlfriend so that they can meet up for a quick booty call? And yes, I’m saying quick because you and I both know it’ll be a speedy endeavor.”

“What on Earth is going on?” Mrs. Lee cries out as Mark tries his best to swat away the presents being hurled at him.

“You’re a psycho bitch,” Mark yells. “It’s not like I actually slept with her. We were just messing around online. You got jealous over nothing. And you set my car on fire!”

“You wanna see psycho?” you snap, throwing the present in your hands down onto the floor and marching towards him with your bare fists before you suddenly stop and take in your surroundings. You see the horror and shock on everyone’s faces, the way they’re looking at you, and then perhaps most clear of all―Mark’s expression. He’s angry just like you, but there’s a glimmer of victory in his eyes. As if he’s bested you in some manner.

And he has. You’re the villain now.

Taking in a deep breath, you will yourself to walk over to Mark in a calm manner, looking him directly in the eye.

“You’re nothing except a liar and a cheater, Mark Lee. That will never change that no matter how much you try to spin it in front of your family. You built your success off my back, and I hope that haunts you for the rest of your life. May you receive everything that you’ve done to me tenfold. That’s all I want to say—” You pause. “Oh, and I’ve always thought your Cybertruck was fucking ugly.”

You reach over and snatch the scarf from his neck before turning and walking out of the door, feeling like you finally managed to cut off the ball and chain around your ankle. Just as you’re about to reach your car, you hear someone calling after you.

“I’ll drive you home,” Donghyuck says once he catches up to you.

“I’m not so distraught that I’ll become a hazard on the road,” you say wryly

“Well, when it comes to being around a car, you’ve certainly proved that you’re not exactly at your most dangerous when you’re behind the wheel,” he jokes.

“You may have a point,” you acknowledge, giving him a small smile.

“Let me drive you home, Y/N. I’m worried about you,” he insists again, much quieter this time.

“How are you going to get back then?” You raise an eyebrow.

“I’ll call an Uber or something.”

“That would be such a waste of money,” you snort.

“Not if it’s for you,” he says almost instantly. His normally brown eyes almost look auburn when under the golden glow of the sunset.

There’s such determination, such assurance, such warmth in his gaze that you let yourself be surrounded with, no longer having the energy to resist him, and it feels like falling onto a soft cloud after a long, winding journey. For once, you just want someone to take care of you, even if it’s just for a moment.

“Fine. Do as you please,” you relent, tossing him your car keys before walking around to the passenger side and climbing in.

Donghyuck looks relieved, beaming when he situates himself in the driver’s seat. You try not to be impressed with the way he easily backs out of the driveway with one hand on the steering wheel and the other on the headrest behind you, maneuvering the wheel with a deftness you’ve never seen before. Then again, he does drive a massive fire truck on the daily, so your Toyota probably isn’t much of a challenge for him.

He drives with his eyes staring straight down the road―almost too focused―because you know he’s trying not to look at you. Probably because you’re making it abundantly clear that you don’t want him to look at you, leaning your head against the window and away from him. It doesn’t mean that you don’t see his wandering eyes, almost as if it were second nature, drift back to you in the reflection of the window.

“Pathetic, right?” you finally say, feeling suffocated by the heavy silence.

“What’s pathetic?”

“Me.”

“Why would you be pathetic?” Donghyuck grips the steering wheel tightly, knuckles turning white as the leather creaks under the force of his hold.

“Mark was right. I talked a big game in front of him, but in the end, I was just the psycho ex-girlfriend. I told myself that I would never let him hold my emotions hostage anymore. That I would erase any care I had for him left in me. Because indifference means that I’m truly free. But I couldn’t do it. I really hate him, to my very core, and that means he still has power over me. I hate that most of all. I want him to feel the same pain I did, and I want to exact revenge on him, but at the same time, I want to move on with my life. I’m like a dog chasing my own tail; it’s pathetic.”

You wanted to sound more lighthearted about this, turn it into a joke, but Donghyuck seems to draw out a vulnerability within you that makes you want to tell him everything you’ve been trying to desperately ignore.

“Y/N, you’re dealing with the end of a long-term relationship. It’s only natural that you have confusing and conflicting feelings about everything. You’re not pathetic; you’re human. Mark stole your girlhood and your youth, and it’s going to take time for you to heal from that. It’s impossible to immediately get back on your feet after what he did to you. None of this is your fault, so don’t ever berate yourself,” Donghyuck’s voice trembles as he speaks. “I promise you that one day, you’re going to wake up and you’ll realize that you don’t remember what Mark's favorite food is. His favorite movie. His favorite color. Then you’ll realize that you can barely even remember what his face looks like when he’s sad, happy, angry. Eventually, you’ll forget about him entirely, and all the pain he caused you will just be seconds of your life that evaporates from your mind completely.”

When he speaks to you like there’s nothing he’s more sure of in this world, it makes you want to believe him. You want to be his promise.

“Thank you, Donghyuck,” you whisper, placing your hand on top of his for just a moment before pulling away. Your touch is feather light, but you hope he didn’t notice the way your fingertips lingered a second longer.

The two of you fall quiet again, but this time, the silence is much more comfortable now. You’re almost disappointed when he pulls into your apartment complex, unsure of how to say goodbye to him.

“Would you like some hot cocoa or something?” you blurt out when he parks. “I think I have some in my apartment.”

You don’t realize how suggestive your offer sounds until it’s too late. Donghyuck hesitates for a moment, and you can tell he’s debating on if he should tease you about it or not. To your surprise, he doesn’t.

“Nah, it’s okay. It’s getting dark soon, so I should head back.” He pulls out his phone and starts ordering an Uber.

“Want me to wait with you then?” You’re not sure why you keep insisting on staying with him, but this day has been so batshit insane that you almost feel like a passenger in your own body.

“Probably not a good idea,” he chuckles.

Now, you feel both confused and slightly offended again.

“And why is that? I know I’ve been a bit of a menace today, but still…” you trail off awkwardly.

Donghyuck pauses for a moment as he stares at you; his face is closer to yours than it’s ever been because you’re sitting right next to him. You can tell he’s thinking very carefully about his next words. It occurs to you that, for a guy as seemingly flippant as him, he is actually quite thoughtful.

“You know, I’ve been compared to Mark my entire life,” he begins, musing.

“Sooo…you didn’t want me to wait with you because you’re gearing up for a trauma dump?” You raise an eyebrow.

Donghyuck holds his hand up in front of you, shushing you. “Shh, let me have my big moment.”

“Sorry. Please proceed.”

“Ahem. As I was saying, I was but a poor, innocent wee boy living in the shadow of the golden child in our family. Mark was always the more athletic, the funnier, the more charming one. His grades were ass, but he always managed to get out of trouble because he was the favorite. When I got my job as a firefighter and he was unemployed, my family barely congratulated me or even acknowledged it at all because they were afraid they would upset Mark. You see, I’ve actually lived quite a tragic life,” Donghyuck sniffles, wiping away a fake tear.

“What a shame that they can’t see how wonderful you are,” you chime in, a smile in your voice.

Your honesty in response to his joke visibly catches him off guard, and he blinks a couple of times before your words finally register.

“Right?” he huffs dramatically, but he can’t seem to meet your eyes completely as a light flush dustes his face and ears. “But fret not, I didn’t particularly mind. It was nice not having to live up to any expectations. Besides, I was happy for Mark when he finally got successful as a streamer. We were raised like brothers, and I always admired him. I was proud of him.”

“Ha, little did you know—”

“All this to say that, growing up, I’ve never been once jealous of Mark,” Donghyuck states proudly.

Then he slowly looks over at you with longing eyes, almost as if his body turning itself towards you is a natural reflex. His expression is so soft and affectionate that it nearly takes your breath away.

“That is, until he met you.”

So, this is what Donghyuck looks like when he’s in love. You wonder if it would ever be possible for you to wake up one day and not remember it.

But you aren’t sure if you return his feelings in the same way. Just like you couldn’t bring yourself to use him for your revenge, you can’t bring yourself to ask him to wait for you while you figure out the mess of your current emotional state. The one who loves more always loses, and you don’t want to lose Donghyuck.

“I just wanted to tell you that,” he continues, “I’m not expecting a response. It’s for the better you don’t respond right now anyways. If you want to pretend like this conversation was all a bad dream conjured up by sleep paralysis and never want to talk about it again, I’m okay with that too.”

You smile.

“But…if you’re able to, just look my way sometimes. I’ll do everything in my power to keep your attention, even if I have to get on a unicycle with a clown nose and juggle. And, if one day, you find yourself looking for me on your own, let me know. Then, I’ll ask for an answer,” Donghyuck promises.

True to your word, you don’t give him an answer. Instead, you take the scarf that’s been laying across your lap—the scarf with a few holes thanks to missing yarn and sections where you accidentally knitted the pattern in the wrong direction. Now it’s a bit stretched out due to you snatching it off Mark.

But this scarf, as average (maybe even less) as it may be, is charming in its own way.

Leaning forward, you wrap the scarf around Donghyuck’s neck. He watches you in complete awe, in a trance, as if he were in a dream and any movement would wake him up.

“I should head inside now,” you say quietly, trying not to giggle at his stupefied expression.

He only nods dazedly, and you’re certain that would have been his reaction regardless of what you said. It takes a few more beats for your words to actually click before he clears his throat loudly. “Right. Yes. You should.”

He hands you your keys back before stepping out of the car and opening your door for you. “I’ll wait down here until you get inside, and then I’ll go meet my Uber.”

“Thanks for driving me,” you say, realizing you never thanked him.

“You’re welcome. Good night, Y/N.” Donghyuck puts his hands in his pockets and tucks his chin into the scarf as he watches you go.

As your hand hovers over the doorknob, you know you should just open the door and walk inside so you don’t keep him waiting in the cold. You really shouldn’t look back because it would mean that you wanted to. Not because he asked you to.

But you do. You look back—

only to meet his eyes, the two of you exchanging knowing smiles.

extra | is it me? am i the drama? i don’t think i’m the drama…

r/AmITheAsshole

u/justgirlythings-arson119 • 9h

(UPDATE) AITA for setting my cheating ex’s car on fire? (and then falling for his cousin)

So, it turns out my cheating ex got catfished. His supposed Discord kitten was actually some random guy and his friend who were dicking around. They ended up leaking the DMs so they’re all public now for those who would like to read them (by now, I’m sure you all know who my cheating ex is). I would highly advise against listening to the rap confession though. Godspeed if you choose to. I am also selling his expensive PC setup on Facebook Marketplace if anyone’s interested. Happy New Year!

P.S. I ended up inviting the cousin over for hot cocoa. He’s very sweet.

⥣ 11.3k ⥥ 2,293 Comments

pissrevolver1122 • 8h rip bozo got catfished by me n bro for some robux

➥ Reply ⥣ 3.8k ⥥

pooprevolver0205 • 8h can’t believe bro actually jacked off to a pic of knees LMAO ➥ ⥣ 1.9k ⥥

piss-k1nk0219 • 2h yall are about to have the awkwardest family get togethers ever lmao

➥ Reply ⥣ 910 ⥥

bigsnowballs0813 • 4h $5 and an iced coffee for the pc take it or leave it

➥ Reply ⥣ 748 ⥥

femboyluvr0701 • 1h are u gonna set the cousin's car on fire too

➥ Reply ⥣ 639 ⥥

justgirlythings-arson119 • 1h probably not he’s very good at putting out fires :( ➥ ⥣ 482 ⥥

#nct imagines #nct scenarios #haechan fluff #nct dream imagines #nct dream fluff #haechan #nct #choerrypuffs #luvpuffcore collab #nct 127 fluff #nct 127 imagines

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luxysims · 8 months ago

Text

3D Eyelashes nº2 *Update*

Hi! I know it's been a few months since the release date, but my 3D eyelashes nº2 have been updated with many improvements 😊

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greenorangevioletgrass · 1 year ago

Text

tuesday in the park (a.d.)

pairing: divorced!art x reader

synopsis: your alone time at the park takes an interesting turn when a little girl breaks the quiet, but maybe... her dad is a good company.

warnings: language, smoking, mention of divorce, lily is an adorable lil oblivious cupid, sooo much tension tho, maybe smut in future parts? idk

notes: i am back and pathetic bitch boy art has officially given me a brainrot. this is also very self-indulgent and heavily based on my irl experience (except the fact that it's art, sadly) soooo... enjoy!

✨I do not have a taglist. Please follow @ficsbygreenorangevioletgrass and turn on the notification to get the latest update on my fics✨

City parks are fucking depressing. Especially the industrial type that’s square, and covered in concrete and has, like, four trees. They’re all well-manicured and hung with string lights, but there’s still barely enough greens to call it a park. And to add insult to injury, a Tiffany’s installation art currently sits at the head of the park—a giant diamond ring in a lush velvet box the size of a Range Rover. It’s gaudy as shit, and the massive Aston Martin billboard overhead is an assault to the eyes. You honestly have no idea why you’re sitting here.

Oh, right. It’s like 2PM on a Tuesday afternoon in some downtown office area, so there’s nobody else there. You can just sit and smoke and watch the water spout from the ground in pretty patterns. The steady rhythm of the fountain jets quiets the chaos in your mind.

Inhale. Exhale. As the fountain hisses and ceases, hisses and ceases…

And then suddenly… another pattern.

A pitter-patter. Like little footsteps. Quick moving, and then it stops. Right to your left.

You turn your head and see a little girl sitting right next to you. Her white sneakers look so small next to yours. She pushes a lock of dark ringlets off of her face as she watches the floor fountain in quiet curiosity and awe.

It takes you a moment to realize you still had a cigarette in your hand. You quickly stub it out as far from her as you can. “Uh… hello.�� You frown at your own words, but how the fuck do you talk to kids in this situation?!

But the kid looks up and smiles at you politely. “Hello.” she nods and then returns her gaze to the water bursting in canon.

You’re even more confused. She doesn’t even seem deterred by sitting next to a stranger��willingly, at that. “Well, are you… are you alone?”

“No. With my dad,” she answers, light as a feather.

“Oh, good. Good.” You sigh in relief and look around for any sign of a parent, adult, anyone looking for a missing child. “Where’s your—”

“Lily! There you are!” A man’s voice cuts through the dull noise of the city. You turn around to see him rushing over to the little girl, grimacing apologetically at you. “Sorry. I’m not a negligent father, I swear. I just… turned around and this little monkey’s run off.”

The little girl—Lily, apparently— giggles as her dad throws her a look, gentle but firm. “You said we could watch the water fountains, Daddy!”

“Yeah, but don’t run off like that…” He rolls his eyes, though you notice his sharp jaw twitching with a hidden smile. And then, leaning into Lily’s ear but still loud enough within your earshot, “And you certainly weren’t supposed to invade this nice lady’s personal space—”

“It’s no trouble. I was just sitting here,” you quickly wave him off.

“Daddy, can I play over there?” Lily points at the streaming water at the center of the park.

The man pulls a face. “I don’t know, Lil—”

“Come on, Daddy…”

“No way.”

“Just for five minutes. Please?” She bats her eyelashes, and you can immediately tell it’s her father’s Achilles heel. Because as much as you try to stay out of the conversation, you can hear the audible sigh coming from him, followed by,

“Fine. Five minutes, okay?”

The little girl bolts off to the fountains, tiny hands reaching out to the jet streams, testing out how strong it is. Figuring out the fountain pattern and stepping on each jet right as it shuts off, one foot after the other. It makes you wish it was socially acceptable for adults to do that, too.

“You’re free to sit and watch her from here, if you want.”

He looks at you, like really looks at you for the first time. At your rolled-up button-down, the chain around your neck with a pendant he can’t see under your collar. But mostly at your kind eyes—weathered, witnessed, but somehow not judging.

He pushes his short blond hair out of his face the same way the little girl does, and the similarity almost makes you laugh… if you weren’t so worried about making a fool of yourself in front of this handsome man. “You sure? I… didn’t want to intrude.”

You shake your head softly and scoot over on the steps, allowing him just enough space to sit down.

He notices the stubbed cigarette between your forefinger and middle finger. “You got another one on you?”

It takes you a beat to realize what he’s talking about. “Oh!” You reach for your pack of Camel, and offer it to him, one cigarette stick already pushed out for easier access.

He takes it with a polite smile, but then pauses upon realizing he has no lighter either. “Um, do you mind if I borrow—”

You lean in as he puts it between his lips, one hand cupping the light from the breeze, and his heart stops at how close you are. Close enough to notice the gloss on your lips. Close enough to get a faint whiff of your floral perfume.

(And unbeknownst to him, your heart stutters a little, too, and you hope he doesn’t notice the way you fumble lighting your own cigarette.)

“Thanks, um…” he trails off.

You tell him your name, and he repeats it almost thoughtfully. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, like he’s chasing the taste of your name as it leaves his mouth.

He nods. “I’m Art.”

He does look like it. The navy blue sweater hangs just right on his broad shoulders, understated but high-quality. The sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, showing a sleek black Piguet around his wrist. A simplicity to complement his refined features. His bone structure is cut like the gods, but the permanent frown etched between his brows, casting a shadow over his deep-set eyes, tells you that he is facing the troubles of man. And the awkward way he’s holding his cigarette makes him look like a boy. Of course, you can’t say any of that to him, so you settle with,

“Nice to meet you, Art.”

He can’t remember the last time somebody said that to him and meant it. And right now, sitting in this concrete park alone, he can see no pretense coming from you. No ass-kissing, no sizing-up, just a genuine kind gesture of a stranger. And it makes him so fucking relieved.

“So what brings you out here?”

“Work, actually. A meeting,” Art replies somewhat vaguely. He’s not really keen on divulging the details of sponsorship and endorsement deals. Not when you don’t seem to know who he is. “Lily saw the park from the window and insisted we check it out when we’re done.”

“Ah, does she normally tag along with you to work meetings?” You ask with a playful glint, although the unspoken question of his whole situation is well heard. “She should. She looks like a great negotiator. Just saying.”

He chuckles. “Maybe she should. My, uh…” Art stops himself before he could say ‘wife’ because Tashi isn’t that anymore. Not his wife because they aren’t married anymore; not his coach either, because he doesn’t play tennis anymore. “Lily’s mom and I take turns every other week.”

And there it is. Your lips pull up into a soft line, not quite a smile but a gesture of understanding. “Must be tough.”

“Yeah. Yeah, it’s a lot of changes. But she’s doing okay, I think…” Art pauses, “I hope.”

You follow his gaze and look at Lily, who must be playing some kind of Indiana Jones fantasy scenario with the water fountains. Not an ounce of care in the world. “She looks like a tough kid.”

“She is.” Art smiles bittersweetly. “Anyway, you didn’t come here to listen to my sob story. What brings you to this park?”

The air that pulls both of you in releases, and you lean back on your elbows against the concrete. “Oh, I just finished work and I… needed some air.”

“What do you do?”

“I’m an interpreter.”

His eyebrows shoot up in interest. “Like the Nicole Kidman movie?”

“Exactly.” You point your half-cigarette at him, and share a tentative smile with him.

“Do you do, like… high-profile, UN-related assassination investigations, too?”

You chuckle, shaking your head. “It’s not nearly as cool in real life. Most of it’s pretty boring, like contract negotiations and focus group discussions…”

“But the stories you must’ve heard, right? Or do you just… zone out at some point?”

“Sometimes. Sometimes you end up shutting off your brain and go on autopilot.”

“But not today?”

You smile ruefully at him, and he knows the answer. You take a thoughtful puff of your cigarette. “It’s… a bit hard when they’re talking about… how they had to jump off of the ship and swim across the channel in the dead of night, because they would rather die in the open water—a couple of them did— than die working in the fishing vessel…”

“Fuck.”

“And I know it’s not really meant for me—they’re talking to my client sitting next to me. But when they look you in the eyes and speak to you…” you trail off, taking a long drag of your cigarette.

Art takes it as a cue for his cigarette, too, although he notices you tapping the ashes off one, two, three times. “Must be tough.”

You roll your eyes playfully at him for quoting your own words back to you. “Ah well, it pays the bills. Besides, I get to clock out at 2PM on a Tuesday and enjoy this…” you inhale through your teeth disdainfully, “beautiful, brutalist… Soviet-core park.”

He laughs, the real kind of laughter that throws his head back, and it warms your heart enough to laugh, too. “It’s bullshit, isn’t it?”

“It’s bullshit! And what the fuck is that horrendous giant ring doing here?” The two of you cackle over the installation art across the park. “And that billboard… it’s ridiculous.”

Art’s laughter dies down on his lips as he looks up at the billboard in question. The Aston Martin “Game Changers” campaign from last year. Fuck. Even when he’s completely separated from Tashi, her presence still looms over like a panopticon.

You turn to him with a smile still etched on your face, completely oblivious to the storm in his head. “What?”

But he looks ahead, too caught up in the hurricane to hear you. He just… looks up at the billboard, his face darkens.

Oh.

You feel silly for not putting two and two together—you’ve been staring at the billboard mindlessly for a good fifteen minutes, goddammit— so you tread very carefully. “That, uh… Lily’s mom?”

Art looks down on his lap, as if not daring to look at Tashi’s picture. Or at Lily, or at you. “Yeah.”

There’s no right word for it. There’s no coming back from this, nothing he can say can make this better, and he can’t help but kick himself for fucking up. What he is fucking up, he’s not entirely sure. But he’s not ready to end this conversation with you, not on such a weird note.

“I can’t imagine what it must be like…” because you can’t. Losing a spouse is hard enough, but to have it out there in the open…

“It’s tough,” he nods in confirmation, and you smile feebly at his attempt at a callback to your little inside joke. To the moment where things are fine, all things considered.

If the air ebbed and flowed earlier, it must’ve just… froze now. You don’t even remember the cigarette in your hand until the ash falls onto your hand and you gasp at the sudden heat, putting it out on the ground.

“I’m sorry. I should get out of your hair—”

“Do you wanna get a drink some time?”

The question catches both of you off-guard, eyes blinking at each other in shock. He didn’t think he heard you right, and your mouth seems to work faster than the filter in your brain.

Your face runs hot, and you chuckle sheepishly. “Sorry. You probably don’t wanna hear that—”

“I do.” He’s not sure which question he’s answering. Maybe both? Definitely both.

“Oh! Um…”

And right in that moment, Lily comes padding over with squelching steps in her shoes, completely drenched but over the moon. “Daddy, Daddy, that was so much fun! Can we come back here? I see lights on the floor, and I think the fountain lights up at night!”

Art puts out his cigarette under his shoe, chuckling at his daughter, “Baby, you’re soaked! Did you try to take a shower there or something?” immediately wringing water out of her hair.

“I’ll take a real shower when we get home.”

“Well, duh. But I don’t want you to catch a cold… come here.” He crosses his arm to grab the hem of his sweater and tug it over his head to put it on his daughter.

The girl looks thoroughly unamused as the clothing item falls halfway down her calves and the sleeves nearly touch the ground. “Daddy, this is ridiculous.”

You grin, and you can’t help but wonder how much of that sass came from Art. “Looks pretty chic to me.”

He nods at you, glad that you’re backing him up. “Thank you.” He then turns to Lily pointedly.

Lily half-smiles at you. “Thank you,” although she still isn’t quite convinced.

“I’m sorry, we really gotta go. But how do I, um…” he trails off. Gosh, he was hoping to do this out of Lily’s sight. Lily’s sight means Tashi’s sight, and he’s not ready for that talk just yet.

“Take my card.” You whip out a neat stainless steel case, and slides out a white-and-blue business card. Your name is printed in a sleek black font, right above ‘Interpreter’ in a smaller case. Your email and phone number follows.

His fingers brush against yours as he takes it, and he prays to God or whoever is up there that he doesn’t give anything away to you or Lily. Not a quirk, not a peep. Just two strangers connecting by chance.

“Thank you.” He nods evenly as he pockets the card, trying to contain the butterflies in his stomach—he’s always thought he was too old for that by now, but maybe… just maybe… “You have a nice day.”

“You, too.” You squint up at him under the sun, and then smile and wave at the little girl. “Bye, Lily.”

She waves at you as Art sweeps her up into his arms, and you don’t let yourself turn all the way around to watch them leave. Instead, with one final look at Art’s “Game Changers” billboard ad in the distance, you grab your pack of Camel and light another cigarette between your lips.

#art donaldson #divorced!art donaldson #art donaldson x reader #divorced!art x reader #art donaldson fluff #eeeeeeeee im so h-word physically and emotionally for him #ava writes #challengers fic

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dailynnt · 29 days ago

Text

ONE NIGHT AS THE PRICE OF A REQUEST

⋆˙⟡ Summary: You hate your neighbor Jungkook, but you have to ask him to pretend to be your boyfriend at a party to get rid of your annoying boss. He agrees, but you don't even imagine what you'll have to pay him with. Everything goes according to plan until Jungkook reveals his true price during the dance: one night with him or your life in the neighborhood will be hell.

⋆˙⟡ Couple: Jeon Jungkook/ The Reader, Jungkook/Y/N

⋆˙⟡ Age restrictions: 18+

⋆˙⟡ Index of chapters: ≣

⋆˙⟡ Number of chapter: 16/?

⋆˙⟡ Tags: enemies-to-neighbors-to-lover, fake relationship, hate to desire, dom!Jungkook, heated blackmail, one bed trope (later more than one bed), undeniable chemistry, forced deal, mutual obsession, dangerous game, unexpected feelings, passion on edge, impossible to resist, tension and desire, unprotected sex, sexual tension, slow burning

⋆˙⟡ From author: My dear Army, hi 🥰🥺 I wrote a new chapter to you and I want to say it turned out to be emotional 🥺 I was writing it and thinking all the time, did I was not cruel to my heroine, but then I thought she has to go through pain to get her biggest reward in the future 🥹🙏🏻 I even cried at the end 😭😄 Tell me, is it normal for an author to cry from her own work? 🤭 So I look forward to your feedback! You know I'm really looking forward to them and appreciate every comment 😭💘 Enjoy ✨🥰

⋆˙⟡ Dedication: to my biggest love @kelsyx33, @curse-of-art, @kooko009, @someoneelse0109, @smokinghotstargirl, @myjungkookthighs, @mskookie, @minimoninini, @medstudentlifestyle for loving me for nothing. I love you girls twice as much 🥺🤭💜🫶🏻

⋆˙⟡ Tag list: @kelsyx33, @curse-of-art, @kooko009, @someoneelse0109, @smokinghotstargirl, @myjungkookthighs, @mskookie, @minimoninini, @medstudentlifestyle, @bhonbhon, @ottergirl, @vantelover1306, @deepikhaprakash, @mar-lo-pap, @zeytiable, @lallataegi, @vintagemoonsstuff, @indigomoonchild09, @diame93, @bts-ruu, @asyr97, @taeloversblog, @songbyeonkim, @miniruuu, @hubbytaehyung, @queen1599, @goldenboysmuse , @nikkinikj, @kookiesncreamri, @guwol, @unholyforjk, @hisdecalcomania17, @kooklovee (If you want to be on the tag list, let me know)

⋆˙⟡ Warning: English is not my native language, so please be lenient with mistakes in the text 🥹

Chapter 16. Fate, which mocks

You couldn't relax. Jungkook who just finished talking on the phone, sat to your left, leaning back. One of his hands confidently held the leather steering wheel, the other rested calmly on the gear lever.

You stole glances at him several times a minute. He looked calm, even a little thoughtful, while your mind was raging. As soon as you thought back to the morning's events-the way his fingers had squeezed your breasts, the way the belt had whipped your buttocks, the way his voice had murmured low in your ear-you felt the familiar throbbing between your thighs.

You clenched your knees.

"God. Think of something else. Anything."

You turned your gaze to the window, trying to calm down, looking at the stream of cars that crawled along the road with his black Mercedes. It was Sunday morning, but Seoul is always crowded, always bustling.

You didn't notice Jungkook give you a brief but intense glance. His eyes slid over your image - a tight cream skirt, a white blouse, fingers tightly clutching the strap of your bag, and those lips of yours that you kept biting.

He sighed slightly and gripped the steering wheel tighter. His thoughts were far from innocent. He still felt like he had the taste of your skin on his tongue.

"You look like you're on your way to confess to high treason," Jungkook joked quietly, slyly peering out from under his eyelashes. You turned your head sharply at him when you heard his voice.

"I... um..." you trailed off. In fact, you were more worried about the morning's sex than about the work itself. Though the thought of going back to work after all that was really scary. "I'm a little... nervous," you said, looking down and fixing your hair. "I feel like I haven't been to work in forever."

"You don't have to worry, you're good at your job and you'll do even better this time," he said gently. "So relax. Don't look like you've killed someone... or done something much worse."

Your face instantly flushed.

"Don't start," you muttered.

"Don't start what?" Jungkook replied with feigned innocence, but there was a familiar sparkle in his eyes. "I didn't say anything at all."

"But you thought!" you complained, swallowing a wave of new memories of how well he had done you this morning. You glanced down at his lips and looked back up at the road.

"How can I not think about you?" he asked rhetorically. You cleared your throat, trying to calm the chaos inside you.

"Like thinking, only the other way around," you said seriously. Jungkook laughed softly. Luckily for you, he got a call and for most of the rest of the trip, you drove listening to him another talk business.

When you reached the ʼEON Creativeʼ headquarters, Jungkook slowed down smoothly, stopping at the entrance. You clutched your purse.

"Thank you for the ride..." you said gratefully, but before you could finish your sentence, Jungkook leaned over the armrest and got close to your face.

"Will I see you tonight?" he asked in a low purring tone. You froze, looking at his lips.

"Why?" you said, frightened. It was automatic. It was just... you weren't expecting such a question.

"What do you mean ‘why’?" Jungkook wondered. "I think we have unfinished business." His fingers touched your cheek. He leaned closer and you automatically closed your eyes. But instead of a kiss, there was only the touch of his nose on your cheekbone, his breath tickling your skin Jungkook's lips gently touched your cheekbone, moving up to your ear. "I have more to show you."

"Jungkook," you called, protesting slightly. He pulled away from your ear, looking into your eyes.

"What did I asked you to call me?" his voice was low, deep. Not angry. No. But slightly possessive, demanding. You reflexively squeezed his hand harder, and he felt it.

"Kook," you corrected yourself, quickly. He looked at you for a moment, and that was enough for you to see his eyes soften. He didn't let you say anything else, because in the next moment he pressed his lips to yours in a full, hot kiss. His tongue entered your mouth easily, and you surrendered. It was sweet. And... too good.

You even forgot that you had to go, you were probably late already. But no matter, for some reason his lips were more important.

Jungkook put his hand on your knee, and without hesitation, he slid his hand under your skirt. He slowly raised his hand up your thigh. You should have stopped him... but you couldn't.

"Kook, stop," you mutter, forcing your lips away from his. He doesn't let you rest and continues kissing you, his hand already reaching your underwear. His fingers gently touch your aroused center and you squeeze his shoulders with your fingers.

"It's almost impossible," Jungkook says as he pulls away from your lips. He goes down to your neck, inhaling your sweet scent. He massages your clit without letting himself push back the fabric of your thong. Because if he did, he would have to fuck you for the second time this morning.

Your brain is frozen, but your body is on fire.

"I'm going to be late," you breathed out, giving him better access to your neck.

Jungkook's lips lifted to yours and you opened your eyes, breathing deeply, excited.

"Do you want me to fuck you now?" he asks seriously. You are dumbfounded. He can't be serious! Not this soon. You seem to be crazy about each other. Why do you two, want to fuck every free minute?

"Kook, I'm really late..." you said in desperation. Jungkook pushed your underwear aside and touched your wet clit. You were soaked and it was no surprise to him. His cock is also hardened. But he's late for the meeting, too. No matter how much Jungkook wants to fuck you, he has to hold back. But to tease you, to get you excited so that you'll come back tonight just to finish the that you two started - that's his real intention.

You bit your lip, holding your breath as his fingers touched your clit. Jungkook's handsome face is just centimeters away and you can't stand that hungry look. You close your eyes again.

"Answer the question," Jungkook whispers against your lips. His middle finger penetrates you. You squeezed your shoulders and moaned softly. At the same time, his other finger pressed on your clit. He's teased you and now you really want to.

"Yes," you say barely.

"Say it clearly," he demands, his voice fogging your mind as his fingers move deeper.

"Yes, Kook. I want you to fuck me now," you say more clearly. You open your eyes and see his sly look and sly smile, and for some reason you don't like it. He speeds up his movements inside you, and on your clit too. You can feel your orgasm coming.

Jungkook kisses you, deeply, a little roughly, and you come on his finger, squeezing his palm between your legs. You moan into his mouth, and when the peak of pleasure passes, he releases your lips.

Jungkook pulls his palm out from under your skirt and licks his fingers defiantly. Your cheeks are red, and your hair is a little disheveled. He gently adjusts your skirt and then your blouse.

He kisses you briefly on the lips.

"Pervert..." he whispered barely audibly against your lips. You smiled, it was both so embarrassing and so funny to hear him say that word.

"You... aren't exactly 'normal' either," you whispered back, and his smile grew wider.

"I know."

Jungkook let go of you. You looked in the mirror, checking to see if you could see your recent satisfaction. Your hair was a mess. You decided to let your hair down, it would look neater. Your lips were still swollen. But you had already pulled yourself together.

Your gaze slid down and you saw the fabric of his jeans stretched in obvious arousal. But he feigned calm. You smiled.

"Can you handle it?" you couldn't help but ask mockingly, glancing at his crotch.

"Don't worry, I'll calm down soon," he said with a sly smile. You pressed your lips together, nodding your head as if to agree with his statement.

"Okay, thanks for the ride. And for the wet underwear," you fixed your hair again, finally opened the car door and got out. Jungkook leaned over the armrest, throwing a look at your back.

"So you're coming tonight?" he said hopefully. He was more than sure that you would say yes.

"You are so insatiable. Give me a break," you said, faking indignation. Jungkook laughed.

"If you don't come to me, I'll come to you myself." he said. You threw your purse over your shoulder, and felt the wetness between your legs and the echoes of your orgasm.

"I won't open the door for you," you teased.

"Than I'll know your pin code, it won't be a problem for me, you know that."

You gasped in surprise, but you weren't angry or protesting. You smiled to show that it was all a joke.

"You're so persistent," you said. Jungkook smiled again, tongue touching the piercing in his lip.

"I know that's your favorite thing about me."

You barked out a laugh.

"Maybe it's also the thing I hate most about you. Bye." You said and walked away. Jungkook watched your back, not wanting to let you out of his sight until the last moment.

The elevator doors closed with a soft chime, and you tried to focus. But your mind kept clinging to what Jungkook had called you as he left.

"Pervert..."

You pressed your fingers to the bridge of your nose, unable to stop smiling. Trying to calm yourself down. This man is really a bad influence on you. He also takes up too much space in your thoughts. You exhaled sharply and blinked a few times, thinking that this would make the thoughts of Jungkook disappear.

The elevator stopped at the top floor. You took a breath, stepped out onto the company floor, and walked confidently down the corridor. Greetings with colleagues were dry and distant.

No one asked how you were doing. And no one was happy to your return, except for Jisu, who immediately threw herself into your arms. You felt every eye that was directed at you. It was as if you were a random person here.

"Y/N, go to the conference room. They are waiting for you there," Jisu said. You nodded gratefully and left.

The meeting room was half empty, but the atmosphere was tense.

Kang Yongwon was sitting at the table, with a young man and a girl next to him. They both immediately looked up at you, and there was nothing but undisguised interest in their eyes. As if you had just been laid out on a plate.

"You're finally here," Yongwon smiled showing his feigned joy, and he nodded his hand to a chair, inviting you to sit down.

"Greeting," you bowed, and walked over to the table, listening to your own heartbeat. You quickly glanced in the direction of the boss and noticed that he was looking you over from head to toe, lingering on the neckline of your blouse and your legs. That look made you feel terribly. Just like before. The disgusting feeling is so familiar.

Nothing has changed.

"This is Seo Yuna and Min Jaehwan. They'll be working with you on the project," he said getting straight to business. His voice became serious and his gaze piercing. "Han Y/N-shi, I chose them to be a good support for you. Your task will be to tell them everything. Starting from the stage when the first idea appeared. So that they better understand where and how you need help."

You blinked. You glanced quickly at the people you were about to work with and felt tension fill every cell in your body.

"Excuse me... what about Jisu? We've always worked together... I thought she would be on the team..."

"She's involved in another important project," Yongwon explained coldly. "And these two are with you now. They'll be fine for you."

Yuna smiled, tilting her head.

"It's nice to meet you. I just recently joined the company." She held out her hand to you. You hesitated for a moment and then gently shook her hand.

"Nice to meet you," you squeezed out of yourself.

Jaehwan was the next to shake your hands.

"The honor is mine. Unfortunately, I didn't have the opportunity to meet you before. But I've heard a lot of... good things." He stuttered after the word "a lot," and you barely stopped yourself from cringing. You imagined he had heard "good things" about you.

Great. You don't know them. Absolutely not.

You, your team, and your boss sat around for a while organizing the work. You shared the main details of the project, but that's it. For the next three days, you have a lot of work to do with these two people, so you have to focus and do a good job.

You walked out of the meeting room and noticed that Yuna followed your boss into his office. It didn't seem strange, maybe they were having a conversation or he had some work for her.

But knowing how weak your boss is in front of beautiful women and in the eternal search for Miss Kang, you doubted it. You're lucky if his focus shifts away from you, so you can work in the company in peace when you return.

You were met by Jisu and you went to lunch together in the cafe on the first floor of the company. Your friend asked you unceremoniously about Jungkook and whether you had made a make up with him. You awkwardly answered yes. She demanded more details, but you joked that little girls like her shouldn't know. And Jisu exploded. She started to pester you until you told her some of the truth about the night before, but not much else.

After lunch with Jisu, you ordered a taxi and went home. You went about your daily routine, putting away the laundry, wiping down the table, and going through the mail. You called your grandmother and talked to her. Fortunately, she was doing well. You told her that you were going to participate in a prestigious competition to present your project, and she was very happy for you.

Then you sat down at laptop again, to prepared some files for tomorrow.

Almost a day passed like that. And the closer it got to evening, the more you thought about Jungkook. His request to come over in the evening because "you had unfinished business" made your insides tremble. You glanced at your phone. The screen was black.

What should you do? Should you wait for him to text or just go to him yourself? But then he'd think you were a real pervert who hadn't had enough in the morning. You sighed and lightly massaged your temples with your fingers, trying to calm your thoughts.

"No. I'm not going to see him. We... we have sex all the time. If it goes on like this, I'll fall in love. And then that's it. Another pain in the ass. No. Thank you."

But the memories treacherously made you remember moment. The morning. His voice, the promise to explore your darkest desires... and suddenly, memory threw up one very specific detail.

A conversation. He wanted to talk about something, even before he handcuffed you. You intended to ask about the conversation in the car. But there was no right moment. Jungkook kept talking on the phone, and then... he finger fuck you.

You need to know what he wanted to discuss. You grabbed the phone, mentally reassuring yourself that this was not another opportunity to be with him.

📱 8:22 p.m. | You: "Are you home?"

You wrote briefly. Jungkook read it in less than half a minute. The number ‘2’ appeared next to your message.

📲 8.22 p.m. | Jungkook: "Yes. I've been waiting for you for ages here 😏"

You couldn't hold back a smile. Warmth swept through your body and settled somewhere in the pit of your stomach. Butterflies. They are here again.

But he wasn't waiting for a conversation. And to cool things down a bit, you quickly dialed another one:

📱 8.23. p. m. | You: "You wanted to talk to me in the morning. We never did. Was it an important conversation or can it wait until we see each other? Or you can write me here."

You looked at the screen nervously. Your pride made you look reserved: you weren't running to him, just looking for an explanation. But inside... you wanted him to say: "Come."

Animated dots appeared on the screen.

📲 8.24 p.m. Jungkook: "Of course this is an important conversation. And it can't wait until tomorrow. Come to me, or... if you want, I'll come to you?"

Your heart fluttered. You smiled, happy that he had lived up to your expectations.

Your fingers hit the sensor, typing a message to him.

📱 8.24 p.m. | You: "I'll come to you in 20 minutes. I have to finish work,"

You lied so that you would have time to shower and look perfect.

📲 8.24 p.m. | Jungkook: "I'll wait. Did you have dinner? Should I order something?"

You look at the screen, biting your lip. Your eyes are shining and you can't stop smiling. It looks like you have a date. But you recover in time to write the next message.

📱 8.25 p.m. | You: "No. I'm not hungry. I'll come over and we'll just talk."

Jungkook doesn't respond for about a minute, and then you get his last message.

📲 8.25 p.m. | Jungkook: "Hurry up, kitten. I really want to talk to you."

You turned off the screen. Butterflies stirred in your stomach again. But you knew he not just wanted to talk to you, he wants more than just that. And you didn't mind.

Going to the bathroom, you quickly took a shower. Then you gently smeared a delicate cream with coconut and almonds on your body - the scent was light, barely perceptible, but it beckoned to touch.

You put on soft cotton pants, a white top, and a loose shirt. It seemed like nothing special. But underneath the clothes was a thin cream-colored lace underwear that gave you confidence and hidden temptation.

Taking one last look in the mirror, you picked up the phone and went out into the hallway. The door to Jungkook's apartment was immediately in your field of vision. You approached it slowly. You stopped at the door. Your heart was pounding. Taking a deep breath, you pressed the doorbell button.

The door opened almost instantly, and you froze - he was standing there in wide black sweatpants, wearing a white oversized T-shirt, but his silky, slightly disheveled hair and relaxed look made him illegally attractive, even in his homey look.

You wanted to make a move to go in, but you felt Jungkook grab your wrist and pull you inside. His lips instantly captured yours. The door closed behind you somewhere in the background, but you didn't notice it.

Your body was between it and the wall. His tongue persistently explored every inch of yours, and for a moment you forgot why you had come at all. You put your hands on his chest, feeling him squeeze your buttocks, holding you close as he could.

You tried to turn your head to the side, to push him away a little, but Jungkook didn't even think to stop. His arms held you steady. Jungkook's kiss was hot, greedy, too sincere not to make you want to respond. But you forced yourself to pull away.

"Kook..." you breathed out under your breath, trying not to give in to the wave of desire. "We... that's not why... I didn't come here..."

"Then why?" he murmured, leaning down to your lips again. "If not for that, then why do you smell like that... why do you look like that... and why is your heart beating like crazy?" his voice was low, husky, and impossibly seductive.

"Oh, God," you breathed out. When he touched his lips to your earlobe. Your legs refused to hold you. You need to get away from him, otherwise you'll never talk. "Talk first, then everything else," you thought. "The conversation. You said it was important."

Jungkook pulled away from your sweet skin and looked into your eyes.

"Conversation..." he grumbled and touched your lips again, briefly, softly, as if he couldn't help himself. "But how can we talk when you're standing in front of me like this? How am I supposed to think when all day long I've been imagining you coming to me like this, and for another reason..."

"Jungkook!" you grabbed him sharply by the front folds of his T-shirt, finally pulling out of his arms. You removed his hands and stepped away. He looked at you, taking a deep breath, as if trying to collect himself. "We have to talk," you said again, more confidently. "If you really wanted me to know something important, let's get down to business. I didn't come here for sex."

Jungkook was silent for a few seconds, looking into your eyes. His gaze became serious, and you could read the tension in it. He sighed in frustration and walked toward the bar. You watch him, arms crossed over your chest.

Jungkook took two beers, placed one on the table next to the couch, and opened the other immediately.

"You want one?" he offered softly. You looked at him, evaluating his offer, and decided to drink. You didn't know what the conversation would be like or about, so alcohol might ease the growing excitement inside you.

You took a can of beer and sat down next to him. You were silent, watching him as he opened the can for himself and took a few sips.

"How is your halmoni doing?" he suddenly asked. You froze with the can of beer at your lips. You took a slow sip and answered.

"She's fine, why do you ask about her?"

A slight smile touched his lips. You raised a questioning eyebrow.

"I just want to know how she is. I haven't asked you about her since. Since we came back from Busan."

You raised your eyebrows and took a sip of your beer.

"She's fine," you say shortly, again. When Jungkook doesn't say anything, you look up at him. He looks thoughtful.

"And how is your mother? Has she called you since?" he asks another question.

You think about it for a moment and realize that your mother hasn't really called you since then, and your grandmother hasn't mentioned her either.

"No, she hasn't called anymore," you say. Your eyes narrow and you look suspiciously at Jungkook, who takes another sip of beer. "You didn’t touch her, did you?" you ask. Jungkook freezes for a split second, but you catch that micro-movement.

"No, I didn't do anything," he says confidently, but he doesn't look you in the eye.

"Look me in the eye and tell me the same thing," you demanded.

Jungkook slowly turned his gaze to you. His dark eyes momentarily revealed something-a shadow of emotion, a memory, or a reproach to himself. But in a second, it disappeared, and a familiar mask of calm appeared on his face.

"I didn't touch her," he repeated in a steady tone. "I promise."

You stared at him, trying to figure out if you could believe his words. But Jungkook, as always, was opaque. Just like when it was easy for him to hide who he really was.

You kept your eyes on him for a moment longer and then nodded.

"Okay."

Meanwhile, Jungkook turned away and took another sip of beer. But there was a memory in his head that he didn't want to say out loud.

This morning when he was jogging, he was talking to Manager Lee. They discussed the fact that you were illegitimate Kang Tehwon's daughter and Manager Lee assured him that he had checked the information well and that it was definitely true. Jungkook was shocked by the news. He couldn't believe it and had to ask you personally what you knew about your father.

Jungkook remembered what your mother had said when she came to your grandmother's house:

"You found yourself a rich man... He will leave you as soon as he gets tired of you. Just like your father did to me..."

So far, everything was coming together. Jungkook also mentioned that he had promised you that your mother would give you back everything she had taken from your grandmother. This woman, who had no right to be called your mother, should pay for her years of terror.

Jungkook ordered the manager:

"Check if Y/N’s mother has debts. If so, then find those who are keeping her in debt. And pay them off. But do it not on my behalf, but on hers, but she must not know anything."

"You mean secretly?" the manager clarified. Jungkook nodded his head, but Lee didn't see it, so he said it out loud.

"That's right. I want this woman to think that she paid everything herself. I want her to think that she's pulled that money out of her own flesh and blood. I want her to lose everything and to be left with nothing."

"I see. How much do you want to spend on this?" the manager's voice was as serious as ever.

"Up to five million won. If it's more than that, I'll need a separate report." Jungkook sighed as he stopped in front of the front door of the multi-storey building where he lived.

"Okay," Lee said shortly.

"One more thing. Have her literally sell everything she has: her clothes, her furniture, her house. You can even simulate pressure from the 'creditors'. But she must believe that this is her own 'success'. When she pays off everything, find her a job with housing in another city and send her there. If she starts drinking there, it will be her problem. The money received from Y/N's mother, put on deposited to grandmother's account. Find it out through the hospital where she was treated." Jungkook was silent for a moment, raised his head and looked up at upstairs of the house, "Do you understand?"

"Yes, Jungkook-nim, I understand, I'm already looking for people for your plan."

"Good, keep me posted. Also, find out Y/N's account number. She needs to deposit 7 million won into the account."

"Transfer 7 million through your personal account?" asked Lee, immediately thinking correctly.

"Yes. So that my father doesn't see the money." confirmed Jungkook.

"Why are you interested in her and halmoni? It's suspicious," you say, making your assumptions.

"I'm just curious about your family, is that bad?" Jungkook sat down deeper, turning to face you. You looked at him sideways.

"My mother is not part of my family." you said, looking down. Your voice suddenly became lower, calmer, but painfully sincere. "We've always had a... bad relationship. You could see that back in Busan."

Jungkook noticed the change in your voice and it tightened his chest.

"Why is your relationship like that?"

You put down your beer and sat down deeper on the couch. You pulled your legs under you, wrapping your arms around them.

"She..." you hummed, "she hated me. And I probably hated her too. She was always drinking. Always. Drunk is my only memory of her from childhood. Angry. Cold. And indifferent." Your voice trembled, but you continued, "My mother... never wanted me. I don't remember her hugging me once. And I never felt like I had a mom. My mom is my halmoni. And that woman... is just the woman who gave birth to me."

Jungkook was watching you closely, not missing a single word or emotion. It hurt him that you had such a terrible mother and had to go through this as a child.

"Who was she? Why did she started drinking?" Jungkook asked cautiously. You turned your head to him and he saw your eyes glistening with pain.

"I don't know why she started drinking. Halmoni said she was a model. She was very famous. When I found out, I even looked for her in old magazines. And I found her. She was beautiful. Very beautiful. And this... only hurt more. Because I looked at her picture and I couldn't believe that this woman... this woman... had yelled at me, hit me, called me names."

"She hit you?" Jungkook asked, his eyebrows raised. His jaw clenched unconsciously. How can you hit a little girl?

"Yes," you smiled sadly. You told Jungkook everything, not wanting to hide a drop of truth from him. It was the first time you had ever been asked about your family like that, and he didn't look at you with disgust or pity. On the contrary, you saw indignation in Jungkook's eyes. "It happened a lot. I don't know if she beat me when I was very young, but it happened. Because of her work, my grandmother rarely visited me. She didn't know how my mother treated me, and I was afraid to tell her. When my grandmother found out, she took me away immediately. Me were about 12, that my grandmother took me in, and I've lived with her ever since."

"Why did she beat you?" Jungkook asked again.

"For different reasons. But mostly when I talked about my father. Especially when I wanted to know who he was."

"So did she tell you who he was?"

"No. I still don't know who that man is. My grandmother never told me either. And now I'm not interested. Although my mother often said that I resemble him. But how can I understand in what way? I never knew, who he really was" your voice trembled. You went through all those memories again and it hurt. You were silent for a moment, and then you remembered. "One day she beat me so badly that I couldn't go to school because the bruises on my face were so big. I didn't want my classmates to tease me because they all knew my mother was drinking."

It was hard to hold back the tears that were threatening to fall from your eyes. Hot tears broke off rolled down your shocks as you closed your eyes to catch your breath. You hadn't planned to cry in front of Jungkook, but he had touched the deepest and most painful strings of your soul.

Suddenly, you felt him sit down and hug you. And you could not hold back. You cried, releasing the pain you had been holding for many years. And no matter how many times you cried, it didn't make it go away.

You clung to his chest, crying softly, and you were grateful that he was there for you when you were not strong.

You don't know how much time passed, but you were in Jungkook's arms for a long time. You calmed down and didn't cry anymore, just felt the warmth of his hand stroking your waist. You wiped your wet cheeks with your hand and looked up, not moving away from his chest.

"So, what did you want to talk about?" you remembered that instead of talking about your parents, you were supposed to talk to him. Jungkook tilted his head down to look at you. "Is it about the deal?" you asked, sniffling.

But there was no answer. Jungkook leaned down and kissed you. Gently, cautiously, as if he wanted to calm you down even more. You immediately responded to his kiss, realizing that you needed it now. You really needed him. Because when you are with him, you don't think about anything.

You laughed in your mind. It's Jungkook. The same Jungkook you couldn't stand a month ago, and now you need him more than anyone else in the world. What's wrong with you? You haven't fallen in love with him, have you?

This question, which you mentally threw to yourself, remained unanswered. You didn't even have time to formulate it, because Jungkook, as if he sensed that something had changed in you, deepened the kiss. And you drowned in it.

It was not a kiss of desire, not a kiss of habit. It was... deep. Slow. Soft. There was no rush, only care and warmth. He kissed you as if he was apologizing for all the pain of your childhood. For every insult, for every scar you didn't deserve.

Jungkook parted your lips and you slowly opened your eyes. You looked at each other as if you were talking in your minds. You said "Thank you" to him and heard him say "I'll be there for you." You wanted his closeness. It seemed to you that he was the only one who could take away your pain. You pulled him to you and kissed him.

Your lips connected and Jungkook could taste the saltiness of your tears. He didn't want you to cry. He never wanted to see you cry again. He did the right thing by your mother, and after what you told him, he thought he was even soft on her. He wants to protect you from everyone, to erase all your pain. To destroy everyone who has ever hurt you.

The kiss turned from gentle and grateful to passionate and exciting. Jungkook deepened the kiss, wanting to show you that he needed you. You responded with no less passion, showing that you needed him too.

Without breaking the kiss, you climbed onto his lap and sat on top of him. Jungkook put his palms on your waist, and without staying there for long, he put his hands on your buttocks. He squeezed them, pressing you closer to his crotch and you could feel how hard he was.

You felt how hard he was, and you couldn't help but move on him, wanting more. Your pussy was wet between your legs, your clit throbbing with desire.

Jungkook moaned against your lips and responded by moving his hips. His arms held you down until your bodies were one without even taking off your clothes.

Your hips slid back and forth, and you sighed softly as you felt his body respond to your every move. Jungkook squeezed your flesh, trying to keep control.

"Let me have you..." he whispered, leaning down slightly to look into your eyes. His voice sounded hoarse, almost broken, as if this desire was burning him up inside.

He pulled off your shirt. It fell somewhere near his feet. Following the shirt, he took off your top, exposing your breasts.

Jungkook touched one of your breasts with his lips and kissed it gently, without the usual lust. It was incredibly pleasant, so intimate as never before. Usually your sex is crazy and rough. But now it was different.

He let go of your nipple and kissed you between your breasts, slowly moving up to your neck. He left almost no place unkissed.

You pulled away, stopping him. Your hand reached for the edge of his T-shirt, and Jungkook silently raised his hands, letting you take it off. His torso was hot, tense, and you couldn't help but run your fingers over it.

Your fingers touched his beautiful body, as if to explore it anew. You touched his tattoos, which had always attracted your attention. After, you touched his shoulder with your lips. You kissed his forearm, then the place between his neck and shoulder. You climbed up your lips at his neck and felt his breath catch. You moved next to his jaw, to his chin, and finally found his lips.

You kissed him first and couldn't get enough of his closeness. It was as if you were in heaven. You hid from all your problems and felt calm.

You were the first to pull away from his lips and smiled when you saw his eyes closed. Jungkook opened them, looking at you as if he were seeing you for the first time. His gaze was almost reverent.

"You are so beautiful," he said softly, touching your face. You leaned against his palm, touching the inside of it with your lips. Jungkook's heart fluttered.

Fuck. This must be it. He's fallen in love.

Jungkook grabbed you by the waist and stood up. You barely managed to grab him your hands, clinging to his waist with your legs. He held you tightly, not giving you any hint that you might fall.

Without a word, he carried you to the bedroom. He laid you gently on the bed as if you were made of porcelain. Jungkook slowly took off your cotton pants. He saw the lace underwear and for the first time smiled slyly, as you were used to seeing him during your sex.

"So you wore that lace to come simple talk to me," he grabbed the edge of the thong and pulled it down, slowly, almost mockingly.

You were breathing fast, but a smile appeared on your lips, which meant that you were caught.

"Do you think that if I wore regular underwear, it would prove that I didn't prepare for sex?"

Jungkook laughed softly. He pulled off your thong and threw it into your pants. He took off his sweatpants in one quick movement, and you gasped silently.

There was no underwear underneath. His cock was aroused, hard, straight. You turned your stormy gaze to Jungkook. He had already climbed onto the bed and was approaching you with a sly smile.

When his body touched yours, you felt his warmth. His weight pressed you pleasantly against the bed. You opened your legs, letting him get comfortable between them.

Jungkook put his arms under yours so you could hug him. He came closer and kissed you, more eagerly, but not with the usual hunger.

"I think you've been preparing," he kissed the spot between your neck and jaw, "and so have I, as you can see."

You smiled wider, running your fingers through his hair, feeling its softness.

"I noticed," you said, enjoying his kisses. Jungkook lifted his head. His eyes ran over your face.

"I want you. I want all of you," he said. Your smile slowly disappeared. What did he mean ‘all of you’? It was what you thought it was? You would want him too, but is it possible? Is it possible for you to be with them outside of the agreement?

You couldn't say anything to him in response. The words just stuck somewhere in your throat. Instead, you pulled him in for another kiss. Jungkook eagerly responded, intertwining your tongues. He noticed that this was the third time you had kissed him first, although he usually took the initiative.

You moved your hips, rubbing your wet pussy against his cock. Urging him to move into action. Jungkook moved his hips to meet you. Desire had eclipsed all thought, and now he just wanted to be inside you. He released your lips and you whispered.

"I want you. Come in," you couldn't wait any longer.

Jungkook bit your plump lips briefly and stood up. He took his cock and slowly, very slowly, brought it to you. And when he entered, it was something incredible. Something you will never stop needing. You couldn't hold back a moan, and he bit his lip to keep from losing control from your sound.

He entered you completely, gently, without jerking. He lay on top of you, holding you. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders to feel the strength of his body, every muscle. Jungkook lie in this position a little, kissing you, giving you time to get used to the size.

He felt as tight inside as ever, and that and the thought that you belonged to him completely made his cock twitch several times. Jungkook pressed in tighter and started to move, pulling away from your lips but not moving far from your face. You kept your eyes closed, enjoying every movement, every inch of his body. Jungkook looked at your face and couldn't get enough of your beauty.

He moved carefully, as if he was afraid of breaking you. His forehead touched yours. He was whispering something that you can’t understand right now. Each thrust was slow, full, and full of meaning.

It wasn't your ordinary sex. It was something else. Something filled with other feelings.

And although he moved gently, the sensations were too intense. You clung to his back, as if it was the only way to keep yourself on this edge. He was lifting your hips a little higher, finding deeper angles than ever, but not losing his softness.

"It feels so good..." you whispered, hugging him.

Jungkook exhaled against your skin, as if your words had made his heart flutter even more. He leaned in, hugging you tightly, and whispered right into your lips:

"You drive me crazy..."

He was driving you too.

His thrusts became a little deeper, sharper, with each new movement they had more confidence, more strength. Not rudeness - strength that came from within, from a real desire to belong to you completely. You could feel his body pulsating with yours, as if your hearts were beating in a common rhythm.

Jungkook lifted your hips and pushing you stronger. Your body arched under him, and another sweet moan escaped your throat. You couldn't hold back anymore - every touch was too pleasant, every thrust was like a wave that washed over you.

"Hold on to me," he asked hoarsely, and you hugged him even tighter, digging your nails into his skin. Although he seems to have meant something completely different.

You could feel his back trembling under your fingers, his tension rising, his breathing getting heavier. He was already on the verge-you knew it-but he was still holding himself, not to speed up, not to lose this moment. He wanted to stay in this moment as long as possible.

"Kook..." came out of your mouth. You wanted to feel the desired pleasure. Your insides were trembling, the sounds that filled Jungkook's room and the feelings he created were pushing you to the limit. "Please let me come."

Jungkook slowed down and then stopped.

"Just a little more," he begged. He knelt down, not leaving you. Your body was relaxed, and so yielding. He leaned down to kiss your breasts. His tongue caressed one nipple at first, touched fingers the flesh, and then moved to the other.

"I can't," you said breathlessly. "Let me come," you begged.

Jungkook looked up and lingered on your face - your lips open, your eyes closed in pleasure, your fingers clasped together, holding onto the sheet... It’s seems like he had never seen you so beautiful. And so vulnerable. His own heart was pounding as if it was about to jump out of his chest.

"One more moment..." he whispered, as if he was begging not you, but himself. "A little more pleasure, a little more feeling you completely."

He lowered himself, touching his lips to your body again, leaving kisses between your breasts, along your ribs, on your stomach, before returning to your face. His hand slid down and found your sensitive center. His fingers acted as gently as his body - softly, purposefully, knowing exactly what would make you lose your mind.

"I want... I want you to give every one of your orgasms to me..." his voice was hoarse, rough with desire. He started moving again, a little faster this time. There was still a gentleness to his movements, but now there was a fierce need.

You could not stand it. From his rhythm, from his fingers, from the pressure of emotion, and from the fact that there was something more behind this sex. Unspeakable.

Your body tensed, you clung to his shoulders even harder and bent under him like a string. A cry of pleasure escaped your lips, exposing every cell of your being. You could feel the wave spreading through your body, every muscle trembling and pulsing inside.

Jungkook felt it. His pupils dilated, and he wanted to release himself in you. A few more deep thrusts and he came too. His body tensed, and he pressed in tighter, burying his face in your neck, exhaling hoarsely against your skin.

He stayed inside until he stopped spewing his semen. His breathing steadied slowly, and his palms slid gently over your skin.

When he lifted up a little to see your face, you were still with your eyelids slightly closed, so relaxed, so beautiful, so his.

For the next three days, you were at work from morning to night. You didn't see Jungkook all those days, but you talked on the phone. You worked hard and diligently on the project, telling every detail, emphasizing the most important things.

You noticed that Yuna was hanging around Kang's boss a lot, having lunch together, she visiting his office, and running around for constant advice.

During the lunch break, you talked to Jisu about Yuna's desire to please boss. Jisu told you that there are rumors that Yuna is the daughter of one of the members of the ‘EON Creative’ detectives, and that's why she is so desperate to get his attention. And most likely they are sleeping together. And just thinking about it made you shake.

You were glad that your boss had finally left you alone, but you caught his long glances as usual, even though he was very reserved around you.

On Wednesday, at about eight o'clock in the evening, when you had finished work and were heading home, your work phone rang. You picked up the phone and heard the voice of Kang Yongwon's secretary. She told you that he wanted to see you.

You felt a tension mixed with excitement, but you calmed yourself down, soothing yourself with the thought that maybe he wanted to know if everything was ready for tomorrow's final.

You walked into Kang Yongwon's office, he was sitting at his desk, and when he heard the sound of the door, he looked up at you and... smiled. But this smile was somehow... sickeningly friendly, unnatural.

"Oh, Y/N-shi, come in," his voice sounded too soft. "Sit down."

You bowed, and slowly walked over and sat down, keeping your eyes on him. Something tightened inside you. Your intuition quietly told you that something was wrong.

"Tell me, is everything ready for tomorrow's contest?" he asked, folding his hands into a lock on the table. "Did you explain everything well to Yuna and Jaehwan?"

"Yes," you nodded. "I told them every little detail. They will be a good support for me tomorrow, I'm sure."

There was silence for a moment. Then Kang Yongwon made a theatrical sigh, as if he was genuinely sorry for what he had to say.

"Today I had a conversation with the company's advisor..." he began, looking at you with the same feigned gentleness. "And... he thinks that your presence at the competition... could damage ‘EON Creative's’ reputation."

"What?" you asked as if you hadn't heard. "Why?"

Yongwon shook his head.

"Because of the scandal. After you... had to be suspended, your participation in the competition might raise unnecessary questions. And frankly, it might affect the outcome." You opened your mouth to object, but he interrupted sharply. "We've been thinking for a long time about how best to proceed. And... I'd like to ask you to copyright waiver etrified."

This was your project. Your work. A chance to come back and prove that you are a good specialist... that you deserve a place in the company.

You sat silently, staring into his face. The boss leaned a little closer.

"Y/N-shi. You know that this is a very important competition for us. Therefore, not only the result is important to us, but also the company's image. We simply cannot take any risks. Do you understand?"

You continued to be silent. And although something inside you was seething, the voice of reason said: this is your chance to come back. If you show your loyalty to the company, maybe this will be a step towards your return.

"Good," you finally said. Yongwon smiled triumphantly.

He leaned back in his chair and then nodded in appreciation, adding:

"Thank you very much, Han Y/N! As always, you make the right decisions." He reached into a folder on his desk, pulled out a piece of paper and handed it to you. You saw the document that said you were abandoning the project in favor of the company. But you also noticed that there was no date on the document. This seemed strange to you.

You saw a pen in front of you and held your gaze on it. You picked it up and felt a tension that was almost physical. It was most likely radiating from your boss, who wanted you to sign the copyright waiver as soon as possible. You took the pen and looked up at Yongwon.

You didn't want to give the project away for nothing. You needed a guarantee. Because it's not a given that even your project wins, he'll bring you back to work. So you had to set your own conditions.

"I'll sign it, but on one condition," you said firmly. The manager could barely contain his emotions. But you noticed a shadow of irritation on his face.

"What a condition, Y/N-shi?" he asked in a low voice.

"I sign a copyright waiver, and you guarantee me a job back after the competition."

There was a momentary silence between the two of you, but then Kang Yongwon smiled.

"Of course," he said more softly, as if he expected you to say that, "I'll bring you back if your project wins."

You raised your eyebrows. He had put his own condition on yours. What a sneaky asshole! You nodded and signed the copyright waiver. He'll bring you back because you're sure your contest will win.

"Thank you for your cooperation and understanding! The company appreciates your contribution." he said officially, and these words were meaningless to you. "So tomorrow you don't have to be present at the final," he said as he took the documents from you.

"But I'll be there," you said, clutching your bag, "I'll help whoever is presenting the project, make sure everything goes perfectly."

Yongwon smiled gratefully.

"Thank you, that would be very professional of you."

"I take it you've already chosen someone to take my place?"

"Yes. The counselor and I thought that the only one who could replace you is Yuna, because she's in the know and Jaehwan doesn't have a big mouth, so it'll be her."

You felt the nausea of nerves and irritation rise to your throat, but you kept all your emotions in check.

"Okay, then. I'll help Yuna with her performance," you said. You stood up and said goodbye to your boss and walked out of his office on wobbly legs.

The next morning you were at the competition. You supported Yuna, telling her where to place the accents, how to behave, how to answer possible questions from the jury. And when she came out to present your project, you stood backstage and clenched your fists, forcing yourself to breathe.

And then came the victory. Your project was recognized by the jury, and ‘EON Creative’ received not only an award but also funding, recognition, and new contacts. You stood back, happy and... devastated at the same time.

You went over and congratulated the boss and Yuna. They thanked you for your good work, but you couldn't accept their words sincerely, you just smiled and said "thank you."

You didn't notice how quickly the time passed. You looked at your phone and saw that it was already four o'clock in the evening. At that very moment, you received a call from Jungkook.

"Hello," you said happily into the phone.

"Hey kitten, where are you?" he asked softly.

"I'm at the COEX Convention & Exhibition Center. At the finals of the contest."

"Do you remember that we have a plane to Jeju today? It leaves at eight o'clock. I'm not far away, do you want me to come pick you up?"

You gasp, going to a quieter place.

"I forgot. With this contest, everything slipped my mind. I didn't even pack my suitcase..." you admitted.

"Wait for me at the entrance, I'll be there in 10 minutes," Jungkook said, and you hung up the phone, agreement with.

Jungkook arrived exactly ten minutes later, as promised. You quickly said goodbye to everyone and went to the car. When you got in, you couldn't contain your joy.

"Kook, my project won! I'm so happy," you said, smiling, although for some reason you felt bitter in the middle.

"Really?" Jungkook was surprised. "I knew you would win! And you were worried. You worked hard," he praised you.

"Thank you," you said gratefully, "We all worked hard. Yuna did so well. She remembered everything I told her."

Jungkook looked at you.

"Yuna? Who's Yuna?" he asked with a subtle strain in his voice, "I thought you were supposed to be representing the project."

You sighed, turning your head back to the road. You swallowed the lump in your throat and answered:

"My boss asked me to withdraw from the project in favor of the company... He said that my presence could be harmful. But he promised to bring me back to work from the Monday."

Silence fell in the car. When you realized that Jungkook was not responding to your words, you turned to him. He was frowning, and you noticed his eyebrows were drawn together in the center. His eyes were staring straight at the road.

"What?" you looked at him anxiously, "Why are you so angry?"

"Nothing," he said shortly. You also drawn your eyebrows together, hearing the pulse in your ears.

"What do you mean ‘nothing’? Why are you so angry all of a sudden?" you felt irritation wash over you. Jungkook remained silent and you started to get angrier.

"He's not going to let you go back to work," he finally said, stopping at a traffic light.

You were dumbfounded.

"Why?" came out of your mouth on automatic.

"I asked Manager Lee to find out your work account so I could transfer the money to you. And he told me today that your account is no longer active. You were fired a week ago."

Jungkook kept silent about the fact that it was not just a firing. Yongwon didn't write the reason "by mutual agreement" that wouldn't affect your career. He wrote "Dismissal for violation of the company's internal ethical standards related to behavior that could potentially damage the company's reputation" which, in short, puts an end to your future activities. Jungkook was furious. And now, learning that he had brazenly stolen your project and would use it to boost his image to the next level tore Jungkook's patience to shreds.

"What...." you said quietly, looking at Jungkook's profile, and only after he said that did you realize that the last money from the company came to your personal account, not your work account. You didn't pay much attention to it, even though it was an obvious confirmation of your dismissal.

The light turned green and Jungkook and after driving a little bit, pulled over to the side. You sat down straight, staring at your hands. Tears were already coming and choking you. You couldn't stop yourself from crying. Jungkook stopped the engine and bent down and hugged you.

"Please don't cry. I will deal with Kang Yougwon. He will be held accountable for what he did to you."

You were crying, not knowing what to do. Hearing Jungkook's words somewhere above your head, you suddenly felt a surge of anger. He says he'll figure it out, but why did he wait until now? Until you were fired?

You agreed to his deal in the hope that he would give you your job back. You didn't want the position at the parent company. All you wanted was to get your good name back and the job you had earned on your own. And because of him, everything is ruined. Everything.

You pushed him away, sharply, with all the strength left in your exhausted body.

"Don't touch me!" you shouted with tears in your eyes.

Jungkook froze, looking at you in confusion, but you couldn't stop. The words poured out in a stream - bitter, painful, the kind of words that come out only when the soul can't take it anymore.

"It's all because of you!" came out of your mouth. "If it wasn't for you, I would still be working. You should have told me who you really are. And then I would never have asked you..." you cried, almost unable to see Jungkook's expression through your tears. "My career..." you sobbed, turning away to the window, "I worked so hard... I lived for this job. I gave up everything to achieve it. And now..." you turned back to him, desperation in your voice, "now in one damn line I've been erased from the industry! Forever!"

"Y/N," he began, but you interrupted.

"Don't say anything!" you exclaimed. "You said... you said you'd you'd fix all . You could have stopped it before, I asked you to, you could have! But you did nothing." A flame burned in your eyes, scorching even his cold composure. "You were silent until I was thrown out. That bastard appropriated my project. And now - now - you just say 'don't cry'?" you laughed hoarsely through your tears, dismissively. "My life is ruined, Jungkook. Do you hear me? Shattered."

You looked at him, and you didn't want to hear or see him anymore. To hell with him. Fuck his deal. You've had enough.

You grabbed the door handle and wanted to leave, but it was locked. You didn't turn to him and said angrily:

"Open it."

Jungkook touched your arm.

"Y/N calm down. Let's talk about everything normally."

You pushed his hand away angrily. You didn't want him to touch you at all.

"Take your hands off me and open the fucking car. I don't want to see you."

He tried to calm you down again, but you were desperate.

"OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR!!!" you shouted and cried harder.

He was silent, and then he pushed the button and the door clicked open.

You got out of the car, slamming the door loudly. You quickly go away from the car, sometimes breaking into a run. You cried with all your might, feeling a terrible pain in your chest. The whole world was not nice to you. You cried in disbelief that everything had gone wrong.

Fate was mocking you. Because as soon as you felt that you had everything, it all disappeared.

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secretaccountlol · 30 days ago

Note

okay but what are we thinking about loud! mark? i see all (only 2 lol) these loud readers but no loud!mark centered fics. whats your head-canons or anything you can think of on him?

(i hope this is an ask, right?)

-🎀✨

Okay, first I fuckin wrote this whole request out already and tumblr DELETED IT. SO SRRY FOR HOW LONG IT TOOK ME TO REPLYYYY

I had to take a break from my computer for its safety 🥰

18+ smuT POOKIES NO MINORS THX !!!

BUT ITS FINE !!!

Yeah.. we don’t have any loud mark fics so I’ll be the first >:) muwahhah I made the reader gender neutral hope that’s okay.

LOUD! MARK Headcanoonsss!!!!

It's not like he doesn't try to be quiet sometimes, but it just doesn't work. For example, you decided to visit your folks for the first time, and after a full day of yapping and family fun;

You make the executive decision that now’s the time to get a little frisky in your childhood bedroom.

I mean, he really does try to stay silent, he makes little noises but as soon as soon as he feels his cock stretch out your aching hole, his eyes roll back.

Does he already have his shirt in his mouth because he already foresaw the future of him not being able to stay quiet? Well, yes!

Does that stop the moans from leaking out? No.

As soon as your bodies collide, and the delicious smacking sounds of his cock sliding into your tight hole are sinfully audible, he moans. Hard and fast.

Your arms flail in front of his face trying to get him to quiet down. Was it as loud as he usually was?

No…not exactly, but anyone who walked by your door would definitely know you were fucking in here.

“Mark! Shhh!”

“I— I’m trying! Fuck you just… feelsogood—!”

It could have been his moans seeping through his shirt, or maybe it was the clear drag marks on the floor from your bed being mysteriously moved.

Or maybe it was the loud thumping noise all night.

Regardless, next time you and Mark came over, your parents made him sleep on the couch..

Yes, Mark is loud but, that doesn’t mean he just moans.. nah. He teases and compliments too. Especially when he’s feeling dominant.

You’re in prone bone, his hand comfortably resting on the base of your neck keeping your head up as he ruts into you.

It’s slow and methodical. The way he fucks into you is precise, as he chuckles at the small sounds you make under him.

“Fuck— yes, yeah take it, take it, I know you can, baby.”

“Oo, like when I hit it there. Hm? Your tightin’ up sooo much, ah..”

God forbid, he can see your face.

“Come on, baby keep those pretty eyes on me, please?”

“Stick out your tongue, sweetheart.. yeah there we go, cute.”

“You can barely speak right now, huh? Don’t worry, I can do aalll the talking.”

Oh, also imagine trying to do some impromptu public sex. God. You’d be arrested.

He’s way too obvious for you to drive straight in.

So you try to warm him up by running your hands up and down his thigh, toying with his belt buckle.

Then you go for the kill, slipping your hand into his boxers, your hands grasping the quickly hardening member.

But whatever words attempt to crawl from him, stumble, and crash in his throat as you pump lazily.

You feigned innocence, batting your eyelashes at him as you questioned him sweetly. “Are you okay?” Your friends are also looking at him with concern.

The once chatty man is now reduced to stammers.

“Yeah! Sorry— choked..”

You nod, laying your head on his shoulder. It seemed to be a cute gesture, a loving couple cuddling at a table.

But in reality, it was much more devious. Leaning against his chest made it easier to side your hand deeper into his pants as you tugged rhythmically.

Your friends continue talking as you nod along, squeezing the base of the shaft as he grits and whines through his teeth.

His ears tinged with red. The metallic taste lingers in his mouth; his lip splits from his teeth sinking into the soft flesh to keep him from moaning.

Your friends noticed again, asking him if he was okay, if he had a fever. But no, he’s stubborn.

“I— m’fine!” Your thumb swipes over the tip of cock, he damns near jumps under the table.

Your speed now makes it impossible for him to clamp his mouth, he tries to cover his mouth as he hiccups out moans, but you snatch it down under the guise of “wanting to hold his hand”.

He tries to stuff food into his mouth, with his other hand, trying to muffle the moans but that leads to him actually choking.

It works out in the end though, because you finally have an excuse to leave.

You usher him out muttering apologies as he tries to calm himself.

You get your shit kicked in bad when you get home, though.

How many hours? You don’t know but the sun is down now.

It’s like a crime scene.. but with cum.

Your back is sore from being bent like a pretzel, that brilliant mind of yours is reduced to a bucket of buzzing desire.

Totally worth it.

#invincible #invincible x reader #mark grayson x reader #mark grayson #invincible smut #invincible x you #mark grayson smut #invincible fanfic #gn reader #afab reader #male!reader #mark grayson x male reader #x male reader #male reader #female!reader #gender neutral reader

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babyangelsky · 6 months ago

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BL Boys I Wanted Carnally in 2024 💖✨

Welcome to Babyangelsky's 2024 Wrap Up! To commemorate my second year of watching QL dramas, and my first year of actually talking on my blog, I've compiled a series of lists to celebrate all the QL things I loved this year!

Please feel free to take my categories and make lists of your own and tag me in them if you do!

💜 All the lists can be found here! 💜

Remember this game? I'm bringing it back!

MERRY CHRISTMAS LET'S LOOK AT BEAUTIFUL MEN

♡ Fort Thitipong as Mahasamut (Love Sea)

I wrote a whole post about how badly I wanted to eat this man with a spoon and how stupidly fucking attractive he is because I could not keep it to myself. I WANT TO EAT EVERY LAST BEEFY GOLDEN INCH OF HIM AND THEN I WANNA DO IT AGAIN!

♡ Furuya Robin as Takashi (Love is Better the Second Time Around)

I see Hiro. I understand Hiro. If this man made this face at me, I would also go have a really good shower.

♡ Ngern Anupart as Arthit (Fourever You)

THEY MADE HIM A FOOTBALL PLAYER AND COVERED HIM IN TATTOOS I NEED PART 2 LIKE I NEED AIR *SCREAMS INTO A PILLOW*

♡ Great Sapol as Yoryak (Wandee Goodday)

He's my blog header and blog title for a reason. Putting this beautiful giant ass man in bunny ears and a tail was a gift *specifically* for me. A gift for which I am eternally grateful, bless you thank you P'Golf.

♡ Mark Sorntast as Pie (Battle of the Writers)

I would like to once again thank the cameraman for this very slow pan up Mark's body and I would also like to thank whoever decided that Pie should strip for Ozone because they really blessed us all.

♡ Top Piyawat as Namping/Sian (Every You, Every Me)

I want them both in very different ways which, once again, all the credit in the world to Top both for Looking Like That and for having the skill to portray these two characters so differently.

♡ Pond Ponlawit as Hill (Fourever You)

I don't ever not want Pond carnally when he is on my screen. He was also great and attractive as Third in Century of Love but he didn't get enough screen time and also they didn't show him to us like this:

♡ Joong Archen as Fadel (The Heart Killers)

Style's just like me fr because I would absolutely RUIN my life for this man. I would ruin several lives for this man. I'd beg, borrow, and steal for this man.

♡ Frank Thanatsaran as Atom (The Rebound)

Atom is too sweet and too good and too damn fine not to have gotten his happy ending. I would do so right by him. He'd get a happy ending and then some.

♡ Nagumo Shoma as Arashi (Love in the Air Koi)

No one has ever been more perfectly cast in anything ever than this man. Shoma was made to be the Japanese version of Payu. The daddy dom energy just drips off of him. AND THAT SHOT OF HIS BACK? STILL NOT OVER IT.

♡ Big Thanakorn as God (Monster Next Door)

He's just so unfair. The sweetest, greenest flag of a man ever and built like a goddamn tree it's NOT FAIR!

♡ Lin Chia Yo as Johnathan (See Your Love)

Peace and love to Xin Jia he's just a baby gangster trying his best but I would NEVER let Johnathan leave that bed whether I remembered how we got there or not. NEVER.

♡ Sailub Hemmawich as Oab (This Love Doesn't Have Long Beans)

The long pretty eyelashes and the fuck me eyes and that body I just--ONE CHANCE JUST GIVE ME ONE CHANCE OAB PLEASE

♡ Yin Anan as Jack (Jack & Joker)

HE HAS A NECKLACE OF MOLES AROUND HIS NECK! HE HAS A MOLE JUST BENEATH HIS SHOULDER BLADE! DO YOU GET IT DO YOU UNDERSTAND?

♡ Jaonine Jiraphat as Latte (Knock Knock Boys)

Of course he's on this list. Do you know how many of his gym thirst traps I've posted on this blog since this show aired? I would like to personally and very sincerely thank whoever styled Jaonine in this show.

♡ Max Kornthas as Tai (Two Worlds)

I'd get distracted too if he was looking at me like this while I drew him. Doesn't matter which version of him it was, I would let him do anything to me and if it was the scarface version, I could fix him.

♡ Poom Phuripan as Joe (My Stand-In)

The way I would give Joe anything he wanted just to see that beautiful face smiling up at me. Congrats to Ming for being rich and everything but he could never treat Joe as right as I could. I would babygirlify that man to within an inch of his life just like he deserves.

♡ Honorable Mentions ♡

I am going to break my own rules a little bit because this is my list and I can so I'm going to include:

Kevin Chang as Ever4 (Eternal Butler)

Like I know the show just started and thus doesn't meet my criteria but I can't NOT include our new favorite daddy dom robot butler because...

...reasons. If I do a list like this for next year, best believe he's gonna be on it again.

Nike Nitidon as In (180 Degree Longitude Passes Through Us)

This breaks my rules even more but I watched this show for the first time like a week ago and it immediately landed itself on my list of favorite BLs ever because everything about it is like heroin to me and I NEED this man to be in another BL so desperately like you don't understand giVE HIM BACK TO ME.

#babyangelsky's 2024 wrap up #love sea #love is better the second time around #fourever you #every you every me #wandee goodday #monster next door #love in the air koi #knock knock boys #two worlds the series #jack and joker #this love doesn't have long beans #see your love #my stand in #the rebound the series #the heart killers #battle of the writers #eternal butler #180 degree longitude passes through us

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mermaidgirl30 · 5 months ago

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✨Saving What Was Lost Part 8: Keep Me From Drowning✨

Pre-Outbreak! Joel Miller x fem! reader

Series Masterlist

A/N: This fic just keeps getting softer, and I love writing in Joel’s POV 🥹 I hope you enjoy this one, lovelies. I put my whole heart into this one 🩷

Chapter Summary: Joel helps you brave the bath.

Rating: 18+ only MDNI

Word Count: 5.2k

Tag list: Soft! Joel, angst, yearning, dual POV, age gap (reader late 20’s, Joel late 40’s), mentions of violence and kidnapping, Joel helps reader take a bath, words of affirmation, slow burn

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

The end of December comes to a rapid halt as white snowflakes fall from the sky. The ground is blanketed in a thin layer of snow, Christmas lights still strewn around the house. It’s that weird middle ground where it’s not quite the new year, but just about there. It’s quiet, still—just how he likes it.

Christmas was a little more bright this year, a little more merry now that you were here. Your smile was so wide when you helped make Christmas cookies with Sarah. Tommy and Maria were sprawled on the couch in a thick blanket, drinking eggnog. And Joel was just happily watching his little girl bond with the woman he saved. The woman he fell for.

Oh, and the way your eyes went extremely wide when he brought you out front and showed you the brand new sparkling white Nissan Rogue he bought just for you? The look on your pretty face was priceless. You were speechless, dumbstruck, and he accidentally made you cry when he handed you the shiny keys.

“But I’m not… I’m not ready,” you had said, doe eyes glossy and bright. “And you… Joel. You didn’t. That’s not my car.”

He just nodded his head up and down and smiled brightly at you, placing the keys in your palm and closing your fingers over them. “You’ll be ready. One day. And yes, it’s yours. Brand new, jus’ for you.”

“But I…”

“None of that, sweetheart. It’s a gift, so please, take it. I want you to have it. I want you to...” His speech was cut off by tears running down your face. He carefully, gently brushed one away with the pad of his thumb just as a tiny snowflake kissed your cheek.

Beautiful. You’re so fucking beautiful with snowflakes gathering on your eyelashes. Like a sparkling star in the night sky.

Your eyes melted, and the look of pure wonder and awe made you shine that much brighter. You were glowing as bright as the twinkling red and green lights on the roof. You were shining all shades of the rainbow which made him smile just a little wider. Just for you.

It’s funny—that fuzzy feeling he gets in the pit of his stomach each time you smile. It seems to light him up, seems to make him feel weightless when that lilty laugh slips from your lips. He didn’t ask for much for Christmas. All he wanted was for you to have the best Christmas ever, and he thinks you did.

You seemed to fill the void in his heavy heart this season. The perfect Christmas gift, he thinks.

Nightfall slips across the dark skies outside, painting shadows across the white walls. The crackle of the living room fire pops every few seconds, embers flaring deep reds across the wood. He’s got his feet kicked up on the coffee table—one leg crossed over his knee, his phone lit up in the palm of his hand. It’s quiet tonight, a little peaceful. No calls to take, no runs to make. He can just kick back, relax, and watch the full moon light up the starry sky outside his floor to ceiling windows.

Just when he starts to ease into the leather of the couch, he hears your soft footsteps pattering down the stairs, squeaking with every step you take. When he looks up, his face drops when he sees you standing in front of him—your bottom lip pouting out, fresh tears in your eyes, a half-open bottle of lavender soap in your hand, a folded towel in the other.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” he asks softly, afraid to scare you away.

You blink up at him and whimper out quietly, “I tried. I just… I can’t do it. I can’t…”

Before you shed another tear, he leans forward and sets his phone on the coffee table, eyes straight on you. “You need some help?” Your watering eyes and tiny sniffles make him weak. If it were up to him, he’d scoop you up in his arms right this very second so he could hug away all your fears.

The bottle of soap trembles in your tight grip, your pink lips just as shaky. “Please.” It’s barely a whisper, but it’s a plea, nonetheless.

“Alright, sweetheart. C’mon.” He pushes off the leather couch, throwing you an easy smile. And when he makes his way up the stairs, you follow right on his heels, your little whimpers filling the space between the two of you.

Looking behind himself, he keeps glancing back to make sure you’re still there. But you are and every time he does, you’re looking up at him with big puppy eyes, so beautiful even through the shades of blues that try to swallow you whole. Even through all the trauma and affliction, the shadows can’t take your beauty. It can’t stop the potential he sees swimming in your eyes.

You’re gonna fly, just like he said. And he means it. You’re gonna soar like the invisible fairy wings you have spread across your back. You don’t see them, but he does—sparkling like the December snow, glistening with sprinkled glitter and gold. You’re gonna fly so high, sweetheart, he thinks to himself.

When he enters your bathroom, the fluorescent lights shine down on the evidence of your distress—the shampoo bottle knocked to the tile floor, the shower head dangling from the coiled cord, the clear shower curtain pulled halfway off the rod, another towel strewn across the sink. You certainly had a hell of a time trying to make it into the tub, but his face softens when he glances back and sees your trembling form from the open doorway.

“I’m sorry for the mess,” you murmur out lowly, your voice barely above a whisper, eyes cast downward like a dog getting scolded.

He takes a step forward and barely grazes his calloused fingers under your chin, till you lift your eyes to his. He sucks in a breath from how your eyes seem to be glowing against the fluorescents of the lights shining above the sink. You’re such a vision, even through the tears. “Don’t say that, sweetheart. You’ve got nothin’ to be sorry for.” Your bottom lip quivers as you stare in wonder at him, a soft glow casting his way.

You’re such a fucking angel.

“Here, let me.” He reaches out to grab the bottle of lavender soap from your hand and slowly starts to put the bathroom back in order—fixing the shower curtain, placing the shampoo and soap bottles on the edge of the porcelain tub, setting your towel in a neat pile by the tub, adjusting the shower head back where it belongs.

He feels you watching him like a hawk, your eyes fixed on every careful movement he makes like he’s an artist crafting a sculpture. When he gazes back after he’s got the bathroom in order again, his chest tightens when you look at him with that longing mirrored in your glossy irises. It’s like you’re reaching out for him, even though you’re standing still. Your eyes tell stories; he can almost grasp the edge of the first page, can almost smell the crisp paper turning, beckoning him to listen.

Taking his eyes off you for just a few seconds, he turns the clear faucet until hot water comes running out. Mixing in the lavender soap, he lets it fill to almost the top of the tub, the steam billowing out like winter fog over a glassy lake. When he cuts the water off, he turns back to you and nods toward the tub. “It’s all yours, sweetheart.”

Your throat bobs, and there’s that look in your eyes again. The tears brimming to the surface, your lips twitching out a response. “Thank you, Joel.”

With one more nod of his head, he takes his exit, but he stops at the doorway and turns, just inches from your shoulder. “I’ll be right outside, okay?”

You gulp down on nothing and whisper, “Okay.” When he walks through the threshold and shuts the door, he leans against the frame of it, his head flush against the solid oak as he blows out a breath of relief. He believes in you, believes you can face the fears of your haunted past. One day at a time, he knows you’ll make it just fine one of these days. Whether he’s here or not. His chest stings thinking about you leaving, not being here one day.

Please, don’t leave. Stay. Just stay.

He hears the hesitant splash of water as you slip into the tub from the other side of the door. It doesn’t take long to hear your shaky cries. Closing his eyes, he exhales slowly, tries to block out the waves of hurt you’re feeling.

It’s one of those bad nights. You don’t always have them. You’ve been doing so good lately. Not as many nightmares that tear him from his bed, not many meltdowns that send him running your way. You’ve made so much progress, but tonight’s one of those setbacks that keep you frozen in time.

Placing his palm on the door, he lets out a breath and prays you can feel his touch through the closed door. Just one calming, gentle touch that he desperately wants to give you. He’ll let it slip through the cracks, permeate through the billowing steam of the tub until it makes its way to your cheek. Just one caress. The back of his knuckles brushing against you. Would that be enough to let you know you’ll be just fine, that you’re safe with him?

That’s the tricky part, the boulder that’s blocking the way in. He can’t touch you when that’s all he wants to do. Not in a sexual way, but in that gentle, loving way he so desperately wants you to feel.

You deserve to feel that. Deserve to feel wanted, important, beautiful, safe. And goddamn it, you’ll have those one day. If that’s the last thing he does. He’ll take all that pain and turn it into something beautiful—like the glitter of your invisible wings. Wings he sees.

Just as he takes a step forward, he stops dead in his tracks when he hears the faint trace of his name through the crack under the door. And then he hears it—your tears raining down into the bubbles, crashing like thunder through his entire system. With one hand braced on the doorknob, he waits for just a second. Just to make sure what he heard wasn’t ghosts whispering lies through his eardrums. But there it is again—the call of his name, a desperate plea to make the pain stop.

Without another thought, he’s ripping open the door to find you curled up like a ball in the tub—your head between your legs, back hunched, droplets of water dripping down your delicate skin. He tiptoes over, careful not to scare you, cautious not to spiral that fear that’s ingrained like a tattoo deep under your skin.

Dropping to his knees at the edge of the tub, he lets his elbows scrap against the porcelain, reaching out just enough to let you know he’s right there where you need him. “Sweetheart?”

You curl in on yourself a bit more, letting tiny whimpers slip from your pretty lips. You don’t respond with words because you’re too lost in the fog of a distant nightmare, stuck under the roaring waves as your fears drag you under the dark depths where he can’t quite reach you.

He reaches out again, desperate to pull you free. “Sweetheart, hey. Look up. Please.” But nothing. No response, no movement. You’re just there. Trapped.

And so, he reaches once more, but to no avail. You’re too far gone. “I can’t reach you from there. Can you jus’ try for me? Can you move jus’ a bit closer so I can help you?”

Still nothing. You’re there but really, you’re in a far away place. Trapped in hell, reliving those horrible images over that you had to endure all alone.

He shuts his eyes for just a second, breathes in the lavender scent that’s permeating around him. When he opens his eyes, he steadies himself and locks his jaw. His eyes flick to the bubble-filled tub and back to the door—like he’s tossing between one choice and the other. Another scan of his eyes, another deep breath.

Flip. Flip. He somersaults between what he should and shouldn’t do. Leave you in here all alone to sulk or save you from yourself. One more flick of his eyes to your curled-up body, and he’s making a conscious decision. He chooses to save you. He’ll always choose you.

Unbuttoning his blue flannel, he drapes it over the clear rack next to the tub, right beside your olive-shaded towel. His leather boots come next and then his socks. He’s left in only the white t-shirt that strains against his flexed muscles and a pair of old denim jeans. But he won’t take those off. No. That’d be sending a message—one he doesn’t want sent. So he’ll drown with you in the bathtub, soggy jeans and all. But this time, he’ll keep you floating at the top.

Slowly, carefully, he slips into the back of the tub, immersing himself under the bubbles while his jeans soak through. Far enough away from alarming you, yet close enough to reach you now.

You flinch at the splash of him, but you’re still so far gone that you barely register he’s there in the bathtub with you.

Let me help, sweetheart, he thinks to himself. Let me cover you in my wings and drown out the noise. Let me keep you safe.

“Sweetheart?” he murmurs lowly, barely reaching an arm out so he can catch your attention. When you turn your head and look up through your tear-stained eyelashes, your eyes widen a bit, like you never realized he slipped right in.

“Joel?” It’s barely a whisper, barely a scratch of a noise over your sniffling, but there’s something swimming in your glassy irises. A plea for help, like you want him to pull you in and hug away the nightmares of your past.

“It’s me,” he says gently. Another splash of a tear reaches the surface of the water, creating a ripple effect across the top.

You don’t move; you just stare into the void, roaming your eyes over his drenched clothes. “Your clothes. They’re soaked…”

He gives you a soft smile and leans against the tiled wall. “S’okay. Nothing the washer can’t fix.” You just stare at him wide-eyed, your lips trembling as you take in his words—like you can’t believe he’d be so considerate because he’s almost positive no one has ever considered your feelings but him.

“Why would you do that…” And then the tears swim in your eyes like a whirlpool—uncontrollable where he can’t stop them. He knows. He knows no other man has done the same as he has with you. Instead they tore you apart, took advantage of your frail body while they could sink their teeth into you.

He reaches out to brush his thumb against your cheek, swiping a tear away as he gazes at you with sad eyes. “‘Cause I need to make you feel safe, sweetheart. I’d never…” He stops to clear his throat, to get ahold of himself before he breaks down too. “I’d never hurt you. Ever. I heard you call my name outside the door. Heard the plea in your voice and I jus’ knew you needed me. So here I am.”

You blink back tears, registering his words as they slip through your mind. And when you finally come to terms with them, you give him a sad smile and hand him the purple washcloth.

Taking the damp material, he coaxes you closer, just so he can reach you. “C’mere, sweetheart. Slide back for me jus’ a little. There ya go,” he says quietly, letting you situate yourself between his open legs. Still far enough away not to have your back flush to his chest, just close enough to where you’re comfortable. He’s always been so careful about that—your boundaries. Always quick to put bright orange cones up when he needs to, but never willing to cross the lines.

The first brush of the washcloth across your back makes you flinch, makes tears well in your eyes, but it doesn’t go unnoticed. “Hey, s’okay. You’re okay,” he coaxes as he eases up and slowly draws the washcloth back for a second, long enough for you to nod that you’re okay.

Carefully, he strokes the soapy washcloth across your arms, gently gliding over old, faded scars across your back. But when he hits the crevice of a faint scar on the top of your right shoulder, you shudder.

“Hey, did I hurt you?” he asks carefully, like he’s walking on broken glass.

You shake your head back and forth, tears welling in your eyes. “No, no. Just…”

He stops his movements, lets the washcloth drop into the sudsy bubbles, but he still hovers his fingers over where the scar is outlined with red. “Jus’ what?” He tries not to nudge, tries not to pry too far into the past, but he’s already standing with glass shards lodged into his skin.

With one more deep inhale, you let out a quiet sob. “The scars. They’re so… ugly. I can’t stand to look at them because they remind me…” you choke on your words but spit them out. “Remind me how worthless they made me feel. How unbeautiful they said I was each time they dragged glass and their nails through my skin…”

His eyes widen in horror while you fall apart in front of him, hanging your head low while you tremble from the tears. He’s furious, enraged at every single man that ever laid a finger on you and made you feel like you were useless. You’re not just a body, not a woman who can be toyed with. You’re… amazing and so strong and so fucking beautiful. And he’ll spend every day trying to prove to you that you’re not any of those things they made you feel.

“Sweetheart…” He brushes the tip of his thumb against the faint scar, tracing it like he can just sweep it away. You flinch, but you don’t pull away. You just let his hand warm your chilled skin. “These scars may be deep, may fade with time, may always be there. But I want you to listen to me very carefully.” You tilt your head toward the right, enough to where your eyes meet his. You’re listening, so he continues on. “They do not mark you as worthless or anything else those useless pricks told you. The way I see it is, they show me just how strong and brave you are. How important and valuable you are. And jus’ how…”

Your breath catches as you watch him dip his head down—so close to your scar on your shoulder, so close to knocking you off your center just once more. He hovers right over the jagged scar and ghosts his lips over the curve of your shoulder, just enough to scrape his lips over your skin. Enough to stay in a boundary, but close enough to whisper a kiss over the faded scar that tells you lies.

“How beautiful they make you,” he whispers out, breathing his promise over the dip of your shoulder, sealing it with the brush of his thumb until he leans back and drops his hand against the side of the tub.

The way your eyes stare back at him—tears swimming in your eyes—makes his chest clench. Those beautiful doe eyes that tug at his heart. You’re just silently watching him, drinking in his words, letting your own hand trace against the scar on your shoulder—the one Joel just brushed his lips over. And he meant it, every single word off his lips. You’re so beautiful, scars and all. Blooming flowers in a big green field, blossoms as bright as the sun. You’re sunshine—gold and angelic. That’s what he thinks of you. Pure sunlight.

After a few minutes of just looking at each other, you turn back around and let him continue stroking the washcloth over your skin. Letting his fingers lather shampoo through your hair, groaning as he works the suds through your scalp. He knows it must feel good, has to be nice to let someone else take care of you for once.

Take care of you. Is this the first time someone really did that for you? Is this…

You interrupt his thoughts as he pours a bucket of water over your hair, washing away all the shampoo into the tub. “Joel?”

“Hm?” he hums, repeating the motion once more with the bucket.

“How can I…” You struggle to find the right words to say. “The shower head. How do I… I still can’t take a shower. Still can’t stand to look at it. How do I break that cycle?”

He pinches his brows together and drops the bucket over the side of the tub, his palm gliding over the smooth porcelain as he thinks. “Well, you jus’ take it one step at a time. And when you look at that metal shower head, you pull on a brave face and glare right back at it. And when the fear feels like it’s eating you alive, you growl right back and tell it you’re a force to be reckoned with. You’re brave and strong and powerful. It can’t touch you.”

Slouching over, you tug your knees closer to your chest as the bubbles gather around you. “But I don’t feel brave right now. I mean, I couldn’t even start the bath by myself. Couldn’t even wash my own hair…” And then the tears start raining down like a thunderstorm, lightning wielding in the distance. The dark clouds are back with full force, but he won’t let them keep you covered.

“Hey,” he nudges you, brushing the back of his knuckles over the middle of your back. “S’okay to have bad days. It’s okay to ask for help,” he murmurs as another teardrop leaks into the tub.

“I feel like I’m drowning,” you shakily whisper, letting the words run down the tile walls.

He closes his eyes for just a second, until his chest stops burning from the weight of your words. If you’re drowning then he’ll plunge under the cold waves and reach for you, until you’re safe on land.

Taking his calloused fingers, he gently brushes them across the scars on your back, carefully tracing each jagged line as he carves the word beautiful in place of those old scars. “You can stop treading water, sweetheart. I’ll keep you floating. You don’t have to fear drowning anymore. I’ve got you, sweet girl. I’ve got you.”

And just like that, a few seconds later after his words have sunk into your skin, you’re slipping deeper into the tub but instead of letting your head submerge under water, you rest your head carefully on the top of his left thigh, giving up all your fears to the man that so graciously saved you from drowning. You relax into him, letting your wet hair hang over his denim-clad thigh, resting against the rock that’s kept you from sinking once again.

He lets out a long sigh, his lips tugging into a small smile as he gazes down to see you let your guard down just for a few minutes to fully trust him. It’s an intimate moment—a lapse in time where you’re able to fully take off your armor just for these few seconds. The world outside can wait. Because right here, in this tub, is like nothing you’ve experienced before. Your trust is so fragile, so very delicate like a piece of glass. But he’s proven his loyalty, proven he has no intention of hurting you. The only thing he’s done is made you truly believe there’s still good in the world. He’s good. Joel is.

He keeps still, afraid to move, afraid to ruin this delicate moment. But as the seconds tick by, he can’t help but to carefully let his right arm reach out, let his hand fall into your damp locks. And as slowly as he can, he cautiously starts to stroke the crown of your head, all the way to the back of your neck in repeated, fluid motions.

Intimacy is a scary thing, but this moment right now is sacred, so very affectionate. It could break at any moment, but you don’t move. You just close your eyes and revel in the feel of his palm tracing hearts across your scars, letting him stroke his fingers through your locks as you breathe in the woodsy scent that makes up Joel Miller.

His delicate strokes falter for just a second as he asks, “When’s the last time someone took care of you?”

You open your eyes and blink a couple times, your mind blank when you whisper, “Never…”

He gently brushes a falling tear off your cheek and nods. “Let me take care of you then, sweetheart. I want to take care of you.”

Hugging your arms tightly around his calf, you curl your weight into him and close your eyes so no more tears fall.

Let me take care of you. Those words flood through your mind until all you can remotely think of are the softest brown eyes you ever did see. All you ever wanted was someone to care enough. You never thought it’d be a man like Joel Miller. But here he is—a giant teddy bear you never want to let go of. He’s exactly what you’ve always needed.

Soft. He’s so fucking soft for you, and you think you’re just as soft for him…

You stay like that for maybe half an hour, hugging your arms around his muscular calf and leaning your head against his strong thigh, enjoying the languid strokes of his calloused fingers against your scalp. Whatever cage that was holding you hostage minutes ago broke free whenever he ghosted his lips over your scar, calling you beautiful instead of the vile things those awful men called you.

Beautiful. Even through all the jagged scars and trauma, Joel sees right through them. He sees you. Not as a broken woman that can’t be fixed, but one that’s strong and fierce and full of potential. He sees you like no one else has before, and that’s more than you could’ve ever asked for.

“C’mon, sweetheart. Water’s gettin’ cold. Let’s get you up.” He unwinds your arms from his leg and reaches for the olive-colored towel, wrapping you in warmth while he helps you up from the now frigid water. You just gawk at him because his clothes are sopping wet, dripping down onto the bathtub mat, but he doesn’t even seem to mind. He only seems to be worried about you.

So you reach for another folded towel and place it in front of him. “Here, you’re soaked, Joel. Please, take it.”

He glances down to your outstretched hand and slowly takes it, a warm smile reaching across his lips. “Thanks, sweetheart. You’re a doll.” You give him a half smile and hug the towel tighter against your body, trying your best to warm up.

When he notices you visibly shaking, he places another towel around your shoulders and rings out the water droplets that keep dripping down your back. “Better?” he asks after he’s taken the time to squeeze out the excess water in your hair.

You nod, throwing him another soft smile. “Better.”

His eyes fall to the blue flannel draped over the rack. He slowly reaches for it and stirs something over in his mind, until his eyes flick back to yours. “Here. You keep it, sweetheart. I know how much you like my flannels. Might keep you warm.”

Your lips part in awe, your words lost as your fingers slide over the soft material. “Joel, no. I can’t. You’ve already—”

He pushes it into your open hand and curls your fingers around it. “Keep it. You can give it back if you want, but tonight jus’ keep it. Okay?”

As you tighten your hold on the blue flannel, you sniffle back a tear and nod, accepting the gift. “Okay.”

A warm smile curls against his plush lips and then he’s sliding the back of his knuckles against your hand, an affectionate gesture that makes your heart clench. “Attagirl,” he smiles. “Well, I’m gonna go change into some dry clothes. I’ll come check on you in a few minutes, okay?”

You nod and watch him walk off, leaving you alone with the sound of a draining tub and his soft flannel curled in your palm. Lifting the flannel to your nose, you inhale his woodsy scent, pretend you’re still wrapped around his leg while he strokes his fingers through your hair. You almost wish he was still in here with you—his hand gliding through your locks, words of affirmation leaving his lips.

He makes you feel so good—like someone who matters. Like you’re someone that’s worth loving…

Love. Could he ever love you? Could you ever love him? You’re not really quite sure of anything nowadays, but you sure would like to try…

After fussing with the tangles in your hair and raking the toothbrush across your teeth, you’re snug in Joel’s flannel with a pair of blue pajama bottoms to go with it. And when you slide back downstairs to see what Joel’s up to, you see he made you a cup of hot chocolate. But not just any hot chocolate. It’s Joel’s specialty topped with extra marshmallows and whipped cream—one of your new favorite things.

“Thought you’d wanna warm up with a cup of hot chocolate and maybe a movie?” he asks, hope filling his big brown eyes.

Curling your fingers around the warm glass, you give him a soft smile. “I’d love that.”

With one more smile, he leads you into the living room and turns on the flat-screen tv, the fire crackling in the near distance. And when he hands you the remote, you push it back and shake your head. “This time I’ll let you pick.”

“Alright, sweetheart. This time I’ll pick.”

This time, you sit on the same couch as him, just inches apart. And halfway through, you start to doze off and end up sprawled over the couch, your head on his knee. You don’t miss those soft, light strokes of his fingers or the gentle way he says your name through the fog. This time, it feels like more. Feels like this is bubbling into much more than you would’ve thought.

Feels like your heart just made its decision that he was made to find you…

He’s got such a soft spot for you, just like you do for him. Maybe this could be more. Maybe, just maybe, he’ll fall for you the way you’re falling for him. Slowly but oh so easily.

He feels like home.

Tag List: @clawdee @jellybeanxc @lotusbxtch @thebeldroramscal @laurrrra

@whxtedreams @sawymredfox @sanarsi @mountainsandmayhem @bitchytimetravelqueen

@southernbe @katinasweeney @pixelspunk @amyispxnk @mysterious-moonstruck-musings

@christinamadsen @aurorawritestoescape @evolnoomym @littlevenicebitch69 @alltheirdamn

@inept-the-magnificent @maried01 @la-vie-est-une-fleur29 @fandomdaydreamer @elliaze

@callmecath1 @kulekehe @yorkshirewench @untamedheart81

@tateypots @stylesispunk @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi @mellymbee @pascalsbae

@locaparapedrito @ladyofmidlo72 @readingiskeepingmegoing @copperhalfcent @axshadows

@here-briefly @cozylittlepigeon @pastawench @keylimebeag @joelsoftie

@romanarose @captainredspade @megangovier @bishtrouille @almodovarispunk

@papipascaaaal @mrs-hardy-hunnam-butler @bambisweethearts @puddles221b

@valkyreally @northennlights

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal #joel miller fic #joel x female reader #joel miller tlou

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jeonginsleftcheek · 11 months ago

Text

Untitled #1 (Hyunjin drabble)

pairing: hyunjin x afab!reader

genre: smut, fluff, headcanons

a/n: thoughts about hyunjin with a small chested reader🫶🏻 all titties are pretty and deserve love hehe🫶🏻

also this is really short, i'm working on 4 fics rn so i wanted to throw this in, i hope y'all like this hehe🩷

Hyunjin adores your small titties, he thinks they're so adorable and pretty.

He loves how he can fit them both in one hand and squeeze them together like that.

"My boobs are so small."- you pout, and Hyunjin looks at you. "And? Mine are too."- he says without blinking and you burst out laughing at your sweet boyfriend.

The first time you had sex, you were ready for a look of disappointment when you take off your shirt, but in Hyunjin's eyes there was nothing but love and lust as he immediately attached his lips to your chest and started giving your breasts love.

He always encourages you not to wear a bra even when you felt shy about it, thinking that you would look flat, he reassured you that you would look beautiful no matter what.

He buys you cute little tops and spaghetti dresses that you can wear without a bra and his cock twitches when he can see your perky nipples poking through the material.

"Babe, did you know small tits are more sensitive?"- Hyunjin comes up to you one day after reading that online. It doesn't matter if it's an actual fact or not because he wants to test it out.

Hyunjin will worship your tits for so long that your nipples will become sore and tender, your cunt dripping and clenching for him.

He always tells you how beautiful you are and how pretty your breasts are and how perfect they are to him.

He loves sucking on them, taking as much of your little titty in his mouth as he can because he just loves his mouth stuffed with them.

He will cup them and squeeze them with one hand, leaning in to lick at both your nipples at the same time, giving you double stimulation and driving you crazy.

Hyunjin really loves playing with your nipples, pinching them and pulling on them gently, flicking them with his tongue and ofcourse kissing them.

Sometimes he does it just for comfort, it doesn't have to be sexual.

But every time you make love, he pays attention to your cute titties, be it with his hands or his mouth.

Sucks little love bites into the flesh next to your nipple, marking your tits as only his to play with.

Sometimes, before he cums, Hyunjin pulls out of you and kneels over you, jerking off and letting his cum drop on your tits. The sight of them covered in his pleasure make him feel weak for you.

When you cuddle, his hands sneak into your shirt and he squeezes your breasts, his fingers gently playing with your sensitive nipples, gradually making you more wet.

He massages them whenever you sit together in the bath, you between his legs and his arms around you, his hands on your chest. It gets you hot and bothered so he lets one of his hands slide between your legs.

When you sleep, if he's spooning you or has his head on your shoulder, his hand is always resting on your breast, squeezing occasionally.

Hyunjin always has to have his hands on your tits, no matter what you're doing. You used to be insecure about their size but the excessive amount of love and admiration your lover has for them and for you, made you feel comfortable in your body and love yourself more.

"If you really want bigger titties, I can make you a mommy so they grow?"- he bats his eyelashes at you and you're tempted to actually let him do just that.

✨Taglist: @moonchild9350 @janepg @velvetmoonlght @hwanghyunjinismybae @jehhskz @laylasbunbunny @porangporangmeong

#stray kids #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #skz smut #stray kids smut #skz fluff #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin scenarios #hyunjin headcanons #hyunjin smut #hyunjin fluff #hwang hyunjin smut #hwang hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x y/n #stray kids hyunjin #hyunjin x you #hwang hyunjin fluff #hwang hyunjin

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lvlyghost · 2 years ago

Note

I love your stories so much I can't 😫😍😍❤️

Could you maybe write a angst to fluff ghost x reader story where the reader gets injured badly while ghost is on her side the whole time in the hospital while she is unconscious and he's having breakdowns and anxiety and all really angsty stuff and when she wakes up she comforts him and all is fluffy and maybe a bit smutty 🤭

No More Stars Left to Count

PAIRINGS: Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader

SUMMARY: Few things made Simon break down. Almost losing his girl takes a toll on him.

WORD COUNT: 1.6k

TW: Smut! MDNI! Angst, hurt, comfort. Injuries. Panic attacks. Grammar mistakes just the usual... Do not read if you're under 18.

A/N: I'm actually quite happy with this one🥹🩷 Enjoy Anon! This is my first time posting smut and in another language so sorry in advance if there are mistakes! Corrections are appreciated ✨🐝

Masterlist✨

Simon's head rests on his left hand, his eyes bore into your fragile body. Several machines are attached to you, helping you breathe, pumping meds into your system. He doesn't deserve you by any means. He doesn't deserve your trust, your laughter, your body.

All he can think about— as his brown orbs can't find the strength to look away— is how miserably he had failed to protect his team. To protect you. It's been twelve days and you still don't show any signs of waking up; it wasn't abnormal for you to not wake up. The damage inflicted to your body had been great. Simon thought for a painful moment he had lost you for good. The woman he cared for. The woman he utterly loved.

He swallows hard.

There aren't many things that'd scare him. He's simply seen too much. But this? Was this truly his destiny? To lose everyone he loved? His family and now you?

He inhales sharply, his free hands traces your inert hand, tracing soft patterns on your pale skin littered with cuts and bruises. That very hand he adores to hold when you were together. He blinks, memories from your last night together flooding his brain as he sinks further down the chair, adjusting the hoodie over his head.

The night before leaving for the mission in Romania.

"No, wait look Simon! Give it to me!" You chuckle, under the covers, both of your bodies remain warm. It wasn't unusual that Simon couldn't sleep so he'd often come into your room and spend the night with you. "There." You pointed out. Your hand and his hand stretched out in front of you, slowly you touch his, spreading out your palms comparing hands. Your eyelashes flutter at the mere sight of his big calloused hand outsize yours, completely engulfing it. You splay out your fingers until they're intertwined.

His breath catches in his throat. He loved how small you were compared to him. He wanted to protect you from everything even from himself, but you had refused to leave him when he tried to push you away.

"Come here." He grabs your arm pining you down and under his gargantuan body. You squeal, laughing at the sudden change of position; Simon sets his body between your legs. Your arms rest on his sides, layers of muscle tensing under your touch. Tilting your head back, eyes meet the dark sky outside the window.

"Look at them." You mumble, Simon lays a kiss on your neck taking advantage. He loves the feeling of your steady pulse on his lips. "The stars are so bright tonight." He hums absentmindedly, hands coming to grip his blond locks.

There's a fire burning in your belly and the ache between your thighs when you feel the tent forming through his grey sweatpants.

"Need you, love." He grumbles. His hands undress your bottom half making you gasp.

"Simon..." soft pink lips kiss your body. Your chest, your stomach... until he's lost between your legs. Mouth lapping at your wetness. You squirm under his touch, it's intoxicating. It feels like you might combust. The fire running through your veins, the goosebumps on your sensitive flesh as you clench around nothing. Unable to resist it you grab him by the arms. "You know what I need." In the blink of an eye two bodies intertwined moving desperately chasing the sweetest end together. He murmurs soft encouraging words in your ear that sent shockwaves through your veins, Simon couldn't possibly be more deep inside you, hitting that sensitive spot that made you want to scream, nails digging on his back, surely leaving red marks that he would proudly show tomorrow.

The purple and orange that tinges the sky outside filters through the window, casting an ethereal display of colors around this room that hides away the few moments you get to spend with him as you finish together; feeling impossibly more in love with him.

"It's clearing already." You point out. Simon looks up from your eyes, albeit reluctant to miss the beautiful shade of your orbs. "No more stars left..."

He kisses your forehead, then bumps his nose against you before he finds your mouth.

"There'll be plenty more to count tomorrow, sweetheart. I promise."

But you're not counting them as he promised the night before. Instead he's shouting orders like an enraged man. Heart beating out of his chest, you were so close to the evac point with your squad. Five minutes ago he had squeezed your arm and kissed your temple before urging you to get in the land rover from the SAS. Only to watch it blow seconds later. His heart stopped and then the ringing in his eardrums.

It was an ambush.

And as the rest covered him he rushed to you.

The blood. Crimson blood all over the bodies. He knew what this meant.

"Sergeant!" He forces his body to move, dragging you by the straps of your combat vest to take cover behind one of the vehicles. He knows he shouldn't be moving you like that, but right now he can't think of anything else than getting you out of there... "Bloody fucking hell!" He roars.

What was that feeling, like his soul was being ripped apart...?

Releasing a shaky breath, Simon squeezes your hand once again careful not to hurt you. The IV in your hand too foreign. It's too much. The sight, the memories of the vehicle flying through the sky...

The pit in his stomach grows, a wave of nausea and uneasiness hitting him all of the sudden. Simon stands on wobbly legs, taking one last glance at you he steps out the ICU. Crouching down he yanks the balaclava from his face. Why was his chest so tight, and his vision filled with blackness? The incessant ring on his ears is real. Fucking real. It was supposed to be a nightmare... this thing pulling him down.

"Come back to me baby." He pleads in a hushed tone although he knows you can't hear him. Simon lifts his hands to find support on the wall in front of him. He breathes as much air as he can through his nose, tries to blink away the black dots.

"Lieutenant Riley?" A feminine voice wafts through the empty hallway reaching him. He holds out a shaky finger without even looking at her.

"Leave..." he warns.

"Sir? I...-" the nurse hesitates.

"Now!" He barks.

She scurries away but not before calling the doctors and the Captain to the med wing.

Simon stays there until his ragged breathing evens, he then goes back to your room, deep down he hopes—prays— that your eyes will open when you hear him. But you don't. He sits again on the couch where he's tried to sleep, tossing the mask away from him. His throat bobs, what's happening to him? It burns. The door creaks open revealing a concerned John who looks at him in disapproval.

"This isn't going to help anyone Simon." He scolds him.

"What do you want Price?"

"You need to sleep. And for... just for the love of God eat something son."

"Not until I know she'll be fine."

Price sighs closing the door behind him.

"She wouldn't want this." Even then, Price doesn't want to look at you. This had taken a toll on everyone. But Simon wasn't handling it well. Rubbing his eyes he scoffs. "Come on go get some rest I can stay."

"No." Both men stare at each other not wanting to back down. "I'm on leave you don't get to tell me what to do Price."

John crosses his arm.

"I'm worried Simon. I want her to be okay too. We all do."

Simon's jaw clenched, hands balling into fists. They don't really know. They don't know, can't comprehend the extent of his love for you.

"What if this was your girl? Would you leave her fucking side hm?"

A tense pause electrifies the air as the two glare at each other, oblivious to the other person whose eyes are tearing.

The beeping sound increases as your heart rate goes up. Two pair of eyes snap to the sound. Your hand tries to snatch the oxygen from your face, but Simon darts out with dread plastered all over his features. You faintly hear John calling the doctors.

"Easy, love. Easy..." he soothes you. Stopping your hands from moving. Your body is in too much pain, tears slip down your cheeks, once again Simon grits his teeth. If he could he'd take it all away. "Don't force yourself you're..." he trails off. "You're hurt."

It feels like you're body is being torn apart. The drugs are slowly leaving your system.

"What happened?" your croak out, throat dry and inflamed. He sits bringing the glass of water to your lips not before removing for a brief moment the oxygen mask. You take a small sip and thank him with a weak smile.

"Ambush." He explains. Hating that he can see the images all over again in the back of his mind. "Thought I lost you."

More tears well in your eyes, as weak as you feel you reach out your hands tracing his jawline and cheekbone. He closes his eyes, and finally breathes again, with you touching him he feels alive again. He wants nothing more than to go home with you.

"How many nights..."

"Twelve..."

The doctors rush in but before they drag him away you say:

"That's a lot of counting we've missed."

A press of his lips on your forehead, a silent promise to never let anything happen to you ever again. Even if it mean giving his own life for yours. He would do it any day. Better him than you.

"We've got the rest of our lives, love."

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yuurayuura · 28 days ago

Text

all the things we never said

🌙 reader struggles to come to terms with the enormity of her feelings for gunwook.

PAIRING ✨ gunwook x fem!reader GENRES & AUS ✨ non idol!au, established situationship?, angst??, fluff, happy ending WORD COUNT ✨ 3.1k WARNINGS ✨ sex - MDNI, im part of the gunwook noona lover agenda (sorry not sorry) SOUNDTRACK ✨ supernatural - ariana grande AUTHOR’S NOTE ✨ i haven't written smut for years and years, so i hope this is okayyy

"Close your eyes," you say, smiling to yourself when he does it immediately.

You shift your weight, straddling him, and his hands tighten on your hips.

He giggles when you start brushing his cheek, his eyes crinkling. "Tickles."

"It's blush," you say. "Not that you need it."

"Ha—you love it when I blush," he protests. And he's right, of course.

"Yeah. I do."

He sits still and lets you put blush and eyeliner on, with minimal protest. When the eyelash curler comes into play, he tackles you to the couch, pinning you down.

"Do not use this torture device on me," he smirks, fingers finding the sensitive spots at your sides, making you squirm.

"Alright, I give," you laugh breathlessly, and he lets you move back to the previous position.

You dab his pretty lips with tinted lip balm, and as much as you would have loved to see him looking ridiculous, he's annoyingly gorgeous. If a little more feminine looking.

"Done," you say, and Gunwook blinks up at you, pulling you closer.

"Am I pretty now?" he jokes, batting his uncurled lashes, making you laugh quietly.

"Honestly, yeah, you are. I wish I had gone for a more clown-ish look."

He smiles as you wipe the makeup off in soft strokes, looking content and predictably a little flushed. In a few minutes, he has to get in the shower and get ready to go out with the gang, which is what prompted the improvised makeup session in the first place. You can't go out tonight because you have work in the morning.

It doesn't bother you at all that he's going; it'll be fun, and it's important that you do things separately sometimes.

But a part of you wishes you could keep him for the night, all to yourself.

"I can't believe you let me put makeup on you," you say, your voice laced with more fondness than you want to admit. "Can I paint your nails next time?"

Gunwook looks at you, with his eyes half-open, leaning into your touch.

"Noona, I think I would let you do almost anything," he says, earnestly, making you slow to a halt.

The makeup's gone at this point, and he looks so beautiful, soft and blushing in the low light. Bare, in an almost vulnerable way, and you're so grateful to see him like this. The urge to kiss him becomes overwhelming, and he smiles into it, his hands moving to press you into him.

He inhales through his nose, humming against your lips. You break it to place kisses all over his face and throat, making him gasp and giggle, and eventually bury his face in the crook of your neck.

"You have to go," you mumble, threading your fingers through his hair, just the way he likes it.

"Join me," he says, lips on your skin.

"You're already late," you smile. "Otherwise, you know I would."

He pouts when he pulls back, and it's too tempting not to kiss him again, so you do.

"Your words and your actions don't match," he teases.

"I'm crazy like that."

When he gets out of the shower, even the faint hint of eyeliner is gone completely. He looks at you surprised, in the reflection of the mirror, when you come in and hug him from behind.

"You really don't want me to go, huh?"

You shake your head no, with a brief kiss to his shoulder. "I want you to, really."

He looks at you in the mirror while putting something in his hair.

"I like when you're clingy."

"Am not," you say, making no move to let him go. Eventually, though, you have to, so he can get dressed.

When he's finally about to leave, you can't help but thread your fingers in his belt loops. He looks so good, it's unreal.

"Come find me later?" you say, half joking, since he really has no choice when you're in his apartment. But he sees through it, like he does so often. When you sleep on his side of the bed when he can't be there, like you will tonight. When you leave little notes in his bag, even if the wording is casual enough. When you try not to show too much, but end up showing your hand anyway, one way or another.

"I can't wait to find you," he smiles, warm hands on the skin of your hips, under the shirt.

"I'm not waiting up," you say, stubbornly, pulling him in.

"Mhm," he smirks, and kisses you goodbye like he has something to prove.

If it were up to Gunwook, he would have liked be your boyfriend. Officially.

He knows not to push it, though. You're easily spooked, and the nameless, undefined thing you two have going right now seems to be working fine. He's okay with it, even if he knows deep down—and has for some time now—that he loves you.

He's young, of course, and he can't ever forget that, because it's your biggest insecurity around him. But he knows, in some primal and pure part of himself, that he truly loves you. Even if it's stupid, naive, and reckless.

Matthew smirks at him when he finds them at the bar. "Leave the missus at home today?"

And Gunwook doesn't even want to fight it, he wishes he could tell the whole world that you were his and he was yours. So he goes 'yup', with a shameless little smile, and Matthew laughs happily.

Your common friends already know that you two are going out, but it hasn't been put into such precise words. It's a thing. It's happening. But you're still so hesitant, and it's frustrating for Gunwook, because he wants it all.

Also, you seem to be holding back for his sake. Somehow. He follows the logic, but it doesn't matter to him that there's an age difference. If anything, he kind of likes it.

Maybe he enjoys a challenge and getting to prove himself to you.

"Ukie, back to earth," Matthew grins, poking his side. He must have been spacing out again.

It's hard not to have drifting thoughts when he knows you're in his apartment right now, sleeping in his bed. He loves his friends, and it's always fun to hang out with them, but the way you were acting tonight made him fall even harder. He almost can't wait to come back home and find you in his sheets, like a present just for him.

He wants to hold you in his arms and smell your hair and your addicting perfume. Feel the curves of your body, like you were made for him to wrap himself around and hold close.

"Guys," he says, after two rounds of pool and what feels like a lifetime of hours. "I'm calling it a night."

The statement is met with mild protests, but he waves at them on the way out and sees it in their eyes; they all know why he's leaving. It's lucky they're drunk and nice enough not to tease him about how he's a simp and too far gone.

He finds you in his bed, as promised.

You're on his side, holding onto a pillow in your sleep, and when he puts his phone very quietly on the nightstand, you blink up at him sleepily.

"Ukie?" you say, your voice rough with sleep, and he didn't want to wake you but relishes in these moments.

"Baby," he whispers, undressing unhurriedly. "Sorry, I tried to be quiet."

It's so domestic, it makes Gunwook's heart ache with longing. You stretch out in the bed, hum contently, and reach out for him.

You're so much more unrestrained when you're sleepy, like you forget all the things that normally hold you back.

For Gunwook, it's easy. He looks at you with unbridled love, the glow of your skin in the dark room, the soft rise and fall of your body as you breathe.

Tomorrow you'll leave for work (it's closer from Gunwook's apartment), and you get to pretend that the reason you stayed over was mostly practical. But you both know the real reason.

"Hey," he says, voice low, after climbing into bed and finding the soft dip of your hips under the covers. "Come here."

He almost can't see it in the low light, but you smile at him, like a cat in the sun, relaxed and happy. You find his hand and hold on to it, still smiling when he presses a gentle kiss to your lips.

He's not even drunk, but his senses feel so heightened. You pull him closer in the kiss, hands running up his sides and legs intertwining with his. If you didn't have work in the morning and get up in just a few hours, Gunwook would have fucked you how you deserve, deep and hard and loving, and made you forget all your doubts and worries, at least for a while.

Instead, he melts into your embrace, and is grateful that he gets you like this, for a few hours until you have to go.

In the morning, you almost can't tear yourself away.

You wake to the feeling of Gunwook's strong arms around you and his soft breaths on your neck. It's too hot, borderline uncomfortable, and you're usually not the type to cuddle in bed because of this.

Gunwook must be the exception though, because you find yourself curling into it, hands on top of his under the covers. It's nice, and you gets lost in the smell of him all around you, spicy and warm.

"Morning," comes his gravelly voice, as he pulls you to him and smiles into your neck.

"Morning, babe," you say, squeezing his huge hand.

He kisses the back of your neck and your shoulder, hooking a leg over yours. His hands travel until he's cupping your chest, and groans in that way he does. Hoarse from the night and soft from the morning.

You twist in his grip to face him, and can't help the way your body reacts to him instantly. Gunwook has never tried to be less than he is, for better or worse he never hides what he's feeling. His eyes show everything, and his cheeks always give him away, especially like this, flushed down to his chest with desire.

"Want you," he says, plainly, pulling you against him again. "So much."

He's hard under your fingers. His pupils are so big, tracking your lips when you say it. "Fuck me. Please."

Maybe he knows that the only way you can cope with all the affection he displays is if it precedes sex, so you can pretend that still is what this is about.

He smirks at the request, confident and bashful simultaneously. A Gunwook staple.

"Come here."

Then he's on top, moving you gently to the middle of the bed and letting your lips melt together in a kiss that's much too tender.

It's early, so maybe you don't think that much; just let him take care of you like the romantic he is.

He knows your body well enough now that it's easy for him to get you weak, with his stupidly large hands and pink cheeks, pressing himself against you so you can feel all of him.

"Gunwook," you sigh, in a plea to get him to stop teasing, making him smile and kiss you again.

"What's the rush?" he mumbles, fingers finally finding their way to where you want him most, snickering at the moan that follows.

"Have to get to work," you remind him, pulling at his hair and making his eyes close in pleasure.

"You're so..." you start, gasping at the pressure of his hands.

"So...?" he teases.

"So good at this."

It's true, and it has the intended effect; the slow spreading smile on his lips and visible pride in his eyes, hips stuttering against your thigh.

You don't have a lot of time, and you know he would have loved to drag this out, but he understands. So he tugs his boxers off and gives himself a few strokes, looking at you intensely.

"You're beautiful," he says, dipping down for one more kiss before he pulls your panties to the side, and feels your wetness all over his fingers.

"Fuck," he mumbles, experimentally pushing one finger into you.

You gasp at the sensation, and Gunwook's eyes darken further, pushing another finger to follow.

"God, you drive me crazy," he breathes, withdrawing his hand and positioning himself between your legs.

It's far from the first time you have sex, so one would think you would have gotten used to his size at this point. You haven't. It's the same delicious stretch, and you moan when he finally bottoms out.

The look of restraint on his face could almost make you come then and there. His brow is furrowed, hair hanging over his face, necklace glittering in the faint light. The span of his wide shoulders and the tremble across his skin as he breathes, trying to steady himself, is so goddamn sexy. You feel yourself flutter around him, and he groans, fluidly dragging himself out and pushing in again.

He moves so controlled and beautiful, rolling his hips like a wave crashing to the shore, and it feels fucking incredible.

"Fuck, Gunwook," you breathe, desperately clinging to his bicep. "You're perfect."

You don't know what possesses you to be so honest in the moment, but it makes his rhythm stutter, and he falls over you, moaning into your neck.

"N-Noona," he gasps, almost a whine, increasing his speed, hitting your g-spot in the new angle. He's everywhere, crowding all your senses, hands gripping you so hard it might leave marks later. It's everything you want, so you cling to him, arms around him to ground you both.

You shudder as one of his hands finds your clit, circling it in torturous precise motions.

"Ah–just like that," you gasp, bucking into him, right before white hot pleasure explodes in your body, and all you can do is chant his name in broken moans.

Gunwook fucks you through the orgasm but soon can't hold out any longer, groaning into your neck as he reaches his own climax inside of you.

He pants as he comes down, before pushing himself up on his arms to look at you, fucked out and so beautiful that it hurts a little.

You can't believe that the most gorgeous guy you've ever seen wants you like this, and sometimes it hits extra hard.

"You really have to go?" he says, making you groan and pull him to you again.

"Don't remind me," you reply, to Gunwook's soft laugh in your ear.

"I'll miss you," he whispers, kissing your collarbone.

You go to take a shower, now short on time, and when you finally emerge from the bathroom, the sight in front of you makes you stop in your tracks.

Gunwook sits on the edge of the bed, still just in his boxers, head in his hands. When he looks up at you, his eyes are suspiciously red around the edges.

"Ukie?" you say, confused and suddenly a little scared. "Are you okay?"

You go over to him and gently push him to lie back with you. Your hair is still wet, and he smiles sort of wistfully when a droplet hits his throat.

"I'm..." he starts, swallowing. Blinking. Avoiding your eyes.

"Talk to me," you plead, hugging him to your chest and threading your fingers through his hair.

"You'll miss work," he mumbles.

"Whatever," you retort, "I'll call in sick. Please tell me what's up?"

Gunwook sighs and sniffles a little.

"I can't say everything I'm thinking because no matter what, it comes back around to the fact that you think I'm too young for you. If I say too much or too little, I fear you'll turn it into a negative that reinforces that idea. It doesn't feel fair."

His words hit you like a punch to the gut.

"I want to be honest, I want to tell you how much I really like you and care for you, but I'm scared that you'll run away because you think it's too much or immature."

He braves a look at you, and now you can really see the sadness in his eyes.

"I want to be perfect for you, but I can't do anything about my age," he finishes. "I guess it just hit me after... What you said before."

K.O.

"Fuck," you breathe, quickly grabbing his hand to offer some reassurance. "I'm so sorry Gunwook, that's so unfair of me."

You realize now how, in your own worries and insecurities, you failed to consider how he would feel when you were so hesitant and unsure. It breaks your heart, and your chest tightens at how much thought he must have given it for him to spill everything like this.

"Hey, don't cry," Gunwook whispers, sitting up to wrap his arms around you.

"I really didn't mean for it to get like this," you say, voice thick and broken. "I'm so sorry."

"It's okay," Gunwook says, squeezing you in his arms. "Thank you for listening."

Somehow, after all that worrying, it was Gunwook who managed to be mature and speak his mind, not you. If he hadn't spoken up, maybe you would have lost all of this.

The thought is unbearable.

"Can you forgive me?" you whisper, and Gunwook gives your neck a quick peck.

"Of course."

You sit back, and you feel like you could lose yourself in his eyes and that little hint of a smile on his lips.

"Noona, listen. I really like you. And I think it's scary too, but this is what I want. Us."

You swallow, almost about to cry again. "Me too. I like you so much. It scares the shit outta me."

Gunwook laughs, and it heals you, piecing you back together.

"Okay, well. If you don't want me to call you my girlfriend and stuff, I won't do it, but–"

"Please do," you say, feeling yourself blush. "I'd love that."

He grins, pulling you into his lap. "Really?"

"Really."

He looks so happy it's ridiculous, and it's not like this fixes everything, but it's a great start. Time to get serious.

First though, you have some making up to do.

"I was kinda thinking that my perfect boyfriend could join me for another round in the shower," you smirk, giggling when his whole face flushes immediately. "If he'd be into that."

"I know for a fact there's nothing he wants more," Gunwook grins, in his classic cocky yet bashful fashion.

Maybe having a younger boyfriend isn't that bad.

#gunwook #zb1 #yuurayuura #my works #zb1 x reader #zerobaseone #zb1 smut #zb1 gunwook #gunwook x reader #park gunwook #gunwook smut #zerobaseone smut #zerobaseone x reader #zerobaseone hard hours #zerobaseone scenarios #zerobaseone fic #zerobaseone fanfic #zerobaseone fluff

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delaware-lemme-smash · 3 months ago

Note

Can you make a headcanon of Bakugo having a crush on a cool chill female senpai in the senior class? And possibly a super sweet love confession on her graduation day?

Aww, this is so cute! I hope you enjoy. ❤️✨

Characters: Bakugou Katsuki/DynaMight

Contents: f!reader, general fluff

Bakugou Katsuki/DynaMight

What do you mean? Bakugou is far too cool and tough to have something as pathetic as a crush. Him? Interested in some older girl who'll just look down at her nose at him? Yeah, right.

That's what Bakugou is telling himself the entire time he's scrolling through the UA Student Directory to find out the name of the cool-looking chick who stopped him on the way to the cafeteria to hand him a soda, telling him it was his cut of her winnings on a bet she placed on his second year Sports Festival finale match.

"I bet on you to win, of course. And you didn't get yourself muzzled this time. That's progress, dude. Keep winning for me, huh?"

"Wha—? Hah!? I didn't win for you!" he blusters, scarlet at the unexpected interaction.

Too late. You were already gone, waving casually as you headed off to wherever the hell you were going. Worse still, Kirishima, Kaminari, and Sero were all standing around, grinning at him like idiots.

Kaminari bats his eyelashes. "Keep winning for me too, Kacchan—" he exclaims in a breathy voice, before Bakugou shoves him in a supply closet and jams the door shut.

Bakugou keeps the soda, but doesn't drink it. It sits on his desk next to his laptop, so he can glare at it while he tries to find out who the hell you are. He's scrolling, scrolling past an infinite sea of faces until her face—your face—jumps out at him. He clicks to bring up your profile and scowls at your enlarged photo. You're a third year, technically his senpai.

"Tch. Old hag."

There's nothing haglike about your behaviour, though. You greet him casually in the hallways, sometimes mentioning if you've seen him on TV or heard about him causing more chaos, which seems to amuse you more than anything else.

"Did you really call that reporter a 'douche' live on air? He was kind of a jackass, huh? Thinking he was some hard-hitting journalist on what was meant to be a puff piece."

Bakugou's replies are usually surly and monosyllabic, but he does start to give you a "Yeah. Whatever. Bye." when you walk away. He waits until your back is turned to watch you go. He still hasn't opened the soda.

His friends rib him about his senpai girlfriend, ignoring his murderous glares and vehement denials. Eventually, he just tells them to shut the hell up and stops bothering to correct them.

He's looking for you in the halls after his latest villain takedown got caught on camera, and it pisses him off that he's seeking you out. He doesn't need your approval.

(Yes, he does.)

A knot of tension loosens between his shoulders when he hears your voice behind him. "Yo, DynaMight. Still giving out the bad guy beatdowns, I see."

"As if you should expect any less, idiot."

Despite how good he is at Pro Hero work, Bakugou isn't used to having a fan—he doesn't count that damn nerd—but it adds a weight to everything he does, when he thinks you might be watching.

Things come to a head the day you graduate from UA High School. Normally younger students wouldn't be at the ceremony, just the graduating class, but you spot a head of spiky blond hair loitering at the back.

Bakugou scowls at you when you approach, but you ignore that. His face is just kind of arranged that way. He thrusts something at you—a very familiar looking can of soda, now somewhat dented.

"Warm soda. My fave."

"Tch. Shut up." Bakugou points a finger at you. "You might be graduating, old lady, but don't you dare start looking down on me. I'm gonna win the Sports Festival again in third year, and then I'm gonna become the Number One Hero when I graduate. You better be watching."

You grin at him. "Oh, I will be."

There's a pause. He glares at you expectantly.

"Sooo..." you say. "You want my number or what?"

Bakugou immediately shoves his phone at you—his case is orange and red with a grenade pop socket—avoiding your gaze. "Whatever."

#delaware-lemme-smash #bnha headcanons #bnha imagines #Bakugou Katsuki #Bakugou x Reader #DynaMight

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spidermans-l-o-v-e-r · 11 months ago

Text

A Rose by any Other Name

Paring: Eddie Diaz x Buck x Reader

Word count: 2.5k

Notes: First of all how do you capitalize a title, second of all considering the content of this story that’s the funniest thing I’ve ever named a fic. Third, oh boyyy do I need more Buddie x reader fics because ✨✨✨✨✨✨✨ thank you so so much for this

Buck is the one who finds them.

He had been going through your drawers at Eddie’s place, trying to find his favorite pair of basketball shorts. Shorts you’d literally told him were currently in the wash, but does he ever listen?

He pulls open the small drawer on your bedside table and digs around for a moment, his fingers find something hard, rubber.

“What the hell??”

He pulls on it and his mouth drops wide open

“Eddie!!!”

Buck and Eddie are sitting together at the dining table, just… staring. Buck had found your rabbit… and your rose, and your cute yellow star vibrator. He literally laid them out on the damn table for Eddie to see

“Where-??” Eddie gestures and Buck has his cheeks resting on his fists

“Nightstand”

“Ah…” Eddie nods and that’s it, that’s literally it. They’re not saying anything because how do they even process this? And there isn’t an issue, not at all. Buck has…. Things and Eddie you know won’t admit to it but he also does. But you? Having them? They’re not better than cavemen honestly, really you know horny cavemen

“Is it bad that-?” Buck begins

“Don’t say it” Eddie points a finger at him

“Hear me out-“

“Buck I swear-“

“I want to watch her so damn badly. I need to see her using that-“

“We can’t just ask!! She’ll know you went through her stuff!”

“I didn’t mean to!! She’ll understand right?? Right maybe we can just like, like hold on I have an idea”

And that’s how you come home to both of your boyfriends in the kitchen, listening to music and making dinner

Together.

There’s a box on the dining table and you look at it curiously, a little “open me” note is on it. You pull the ribbon and take the lid off

There’s a very cute baby tee, with “Daddy’s girl” written across the chest and you roll your eyes, because that was definitely Bucks' idea. You know how he feels about Spencer’s. There’s also a pair of lace panties with a waistband that says fuck me on them, absolutely Eddie’s contribution.

“Put it on” You jump and drop the panties back into the box. Buck is standing in the doorway, a towel in his hands as he dries them and leans his shoulder against it, crossing his ankles

“Are you two serious?”

“Oh we’re very serious” Eddie gives you a little thumbs up over Buck’s shoulder and you roll your eyes, grabbing the box

“Alright alright fine-“

“Ah ah-“ Buck waggles a finger at you “Right here, please”

Eddie stands next to him, leaning against the other side of the doorway, his back against it and you shudder in anticipation.

“Okay”

You take your time, peeling off your work clothes, the jeans go first, wiggling them down over your plush hips and you kick them aside

“Bra too?” You bat your eyelashes and Buck nods

“That would be preferable… but whatever you’re comfy with honestly”

You pull your shirt over your head, tossing it on top of your jeans and your bra goes next. Eddie hums in approval as you bend over purposely to take off your panties, dragging them all the way down your legs and wiggling your hips

“Jesus I hate you” Eddie chuckles as he pushes off the wall to go finish dinner

You spin around and blow him a little kiss “Love you too babe”

You put on the new panties, enjoying the way the waistband hugs your hips, and pull the t-shirt on, adjusting it as best you can, your dark nipples so clear through the pink shirt

“How do I look?” You ask, walking over to Buck and his breath hitches, his sexy demeanor dropping for a moment and he giggles

“Sooo fucking hot” he puts his hands on your hips, practically drooling as she squeezes your sides

“Come on… we wanna show you something”

Buck guides you to the couch, making you sit down in his lap now and Eddie comes in and pours you a glass of your favorite mango moscato. You look between them, incredibly suspiciously as he hands you the glass

“How was work baby?” Eddie sits on the armrest and Buck nuzzles against your neck.

“Yeah tell us about your day”

“Whaaaat the hell is going on?” You mutter before Eddie tips the bottom of your glass to make you take a sip

“We just wanted to do something nice for you… when was the last time the three of us had a date?”

“Last week? We went to the aquarium… what did you do?”

Buck looks at Eddie who chuckles and gets up, going over behind the other chair and grabbing another pink box with a bow on it

“We want something. There’s no conditions baby if the answer is no we can still have a cute date night okay?”

Buck takes the box, setting it in your lap “I want to preface this by saying it was a total accident”

“What the heck are you two-“ your breath catches in your throat as you open the box and peel back the paper. Your toys are lying neatly together…next to a brand new fourth one.

“Uhhh???”

“We wanna watch you use em” Buck kisses your neck, smoothing his hands down your thighs, slowly opening them

“Please? Eddie takes the new rabbit they got you, it’s a little differently shaped than your other one, you take it from him, your cheeks on fire as you turn it over in your hands

“We asked the lady at the front desk what she recommended!” Buck says excitedly and you giggle a bit deliriously

“She said it’s great for your G-spot and that it’s got 10 speeds,” Eddie tells you

“And it’s rechargeable!! You can save the environment by not using batteries!”

Eddie whacks Buck’s leg and you shake your head fast, covering your face

“If I’m going to do this…I want to go somewhere more comfortable”

“Oh I’m so so glad you said that” Buck groans excitedly as he gets up and throws you over his shoulder, laughing at the way you squeal as he runs back to the bedroom

“Don’t drop her!” Eddie laughs as he follows after you two. Buck literally tosses you on the rose-petal-covered bed and you squeak, falling in a heap

“Calm down!” You laugh and he shakes his head quickly

“Are you joking? I’ve been waiting all day for this.”

There are two chairs at the end of Eddie’s bed and your mouth drops open. They both work to set the mood together, lighting a couple candles, dimming the lights, and turning them to a soft red hue. Eddie shuts the door and Buck takes his hand, pulling him over to the chairs and they sit down

“All eyes on you baby” Eddie nods and you sigh, lying against the pillows they have set up against the headboard. Your lube is out on the bedside table along with a couple towels and some baby wipes

“You guys really thought this through huh?”

“Anything else you need you just ask for it” Eddie leans back, his legs spread, his arms crossed over his chest and Buck copies his stance. They both look absolutely ravenous

“O-okay” you gulp nervously for a minute, opening your legs so your panties are on display, there’s already a small wet patch on the front and you know how Buck feels about that. You lift your hips, wriggling out of your panties, and toss them over to him. He catches them and immediately puts them in his mouth, sucking your juices off of them

“Holy shit” you and Eddie both mumble under your breath, Buck takes them from his mouth, tossing them to the floor, and cups Eddie’s face, kissing him so he can taste you too

Your eyes follow the little trail of spit connecting them as Buck pulls away to look at you

“Just a little something to get you started baby girl… now come on, put on a show for us”

You’re a bit shy at first because while they do stare at you often when having sex, Eddie is so big on eye contact, it’s never like this, where they’re literally sitting there like two hungry wolves watching their little bunny present herself up on a silver freaking platter

There were some weekends, that you’d get together with both of them, and Buck would reduce you down to nothing but a toy. Even dressing you up exactly how he wanted you and Eddie would have to be the voice of reason telling him he couldn’t put you in a skirt that short to go to the mall in, none of you would even make it out of the house let alone to the mall where just any man could stare at your ass.

This whole little setup is definitely up their alley.

The pillows are so soft and fluffy under you, the cases silky and pink. Even the bedding underneath you is pink. The bed is covered in beautiful rose petals and little gold flecks, and your box of toys is next to you. You reach over and grab the new one, feeling it in your hands for a second before turning it on. You giggle as it moves in your hand, it seems nice, definitely your speed, that lady knew her shit. You slide it down your chest circling your nipple slowly through your thin t-shirt, gasping softly.

Eddie stretches, putting his arm around the back of Bucks chair, they watch you trail it over your breasts, feeling the vibrations flow through your body, your nipples hardening and making his mouth water. He lets his head fall to look at Buck, who’s got his hand sliding over Eddie’s thigh and over his cock as he watches you so intensely, his hand following the same pattern as yours

You sit up some, getting comfy in the pillows before you rub it along the inside of your thighs, teasing yourself (and them) as you work yourself up as if you weren’t hot enough already. You spread your legs a bit more, your thighs shaking as you start to finally roll the head of your toy over your lips, gliding it along your slick center as you pant softly

“Oh god…” you moan as you reach over to the table for the little bottle of lube, it’s a new one, strawberry flavored and you snort

“Buck!”

“Hey, it could have been Eddie!! He loves strawberries!!”

“Was it Eddie?” You ask as you pour it on the toy and Eddie shrugs

“Oh yeah no it was definitely me”

“See!! You owe me an apology” Buck scoffs and you grin, waving the toy at him

“I’ll let you lick it clean when I’m done”

Both of their mouths drop open as you slip it inside you, adjusting your body in the pillows so it goes in all the way, you feel the little head working your clit while it massages your gspot and your back nearly arches completely off the bed

You moan loudly, pumping the toy in and out of you, your hips rocking slowly in time with it “Oh fuck yes!” you cry, your thighs shaking as you grip the sheets with your other hand

Buck unzips Eddie’s jeans, pulling his cock out, grinning at the way it pops out at him, fully hard, his tip blushing red and dripping with precum already.

“You too” Eddie grins, fumbling with Buck's zipper and finally pulling his cock out, you groan softly as it springs out, staring at your two boys

“Don’t stop baby, god please keep fucking yourself” Eddie’s voice is deep and gravelly as Buck strokes his cock, he spits on the tip, dragging it down his fast and you whine, your hips bucking on the toy. You spread your legs wider, plunging the toy in and out faster as both men get each other off in time with you.

“Please please please come over here and cum on me, please!” Your voice is high-pitched as you get closer and closer, the vibrations on your clit nearly clawing you apart

They get up from their chairs, immediately crashing into each other, Eddie forces Buck against the wall, shoving his jeans all the way down and fisting his cock, pumping it in tandem with your whining and moaning. Buck rips Eddie’s shirt off, throwing it somewhere, and pushes him backward until they hit the bed. Eddie falls back and Buck climbs on top of him, grinding his cock against Eddie’s

He looks up at you, your eyes wide, your mouth open, the toy still working you as you have it in you as deep as possible, but you’re paying a little less attention to it and a lot more attention to them. He reaches over, pulling it from between your legs and stroking Eddie’s cock with it.

“C’mere baby” Eddie reaches for you, his hips jerking against the vibrator and you scramble over to him, kissing him frantically, he holds your face, it’s all teeth and tongue, messily making out with you. Your ass is in the air Buck rubs his hand over it, giving it a smack before sliding your toy back in your pussy and fucking you slowly with it

You cry into Eddie’s mouth as he holds you against him, his tongue lapping at yours. Buck pushes the toy in further and you feel the little head stimulating somewhere else, somewhere new and that’s all it takes. You fall forward grinding into the bed beneath you, your body writhing as you sob for them, cumming all over the sheets. Buck turns it up two more and you claw at Eddie, gasping loudly your entire body shaking and overstimulated

“Shit shit shit!” You chant, fucking yourself against the bed, Buck grabs Eddie’s cock, stroking quickly in time with you, and he cums over your back, he grunts loudly, jerking his hips into Buck's hand over and over making Buck cum hands free, Eddie laughs as he reaches out, stroking him too, watching as his cum splatters across your back. He falls over on the bed next to you two dramatically and puts two thumbs in the air

“That was awesome”

You’re still wriggling in the sheets, gasping and Eddie sits up

“Shit- shit sorry” He reaches over, pulling your toy from you and shutting it off, it leaves a sticky trail as he pulls it away, handing it over to Buck who eagerly takes it, licking your juices off and moaning around it, your eyes widen as he swallows part of it, fucking his throat with it

“You taste so fucking good” he moans, putting the toy down on the bed and you giggle, rolling over so you’re on your back

“That was….” You pant softly into the covers and Eddie nods

“Too fucking good… how you feelin'?”

“Why?” You crane your neck to look over at him as Buck gets up, pulling your legs toward him as he strokes his cock slowly

“Because we uh…had one more request-“

“What kind of request?” You ask curiously, watching Buck rub the inside of your thighs slowly

“Both of us? At the same time?”

#words by rhys #911 x reader #eddie diaz #rhys writes #911 fox #eddie diaz x reader #911 show #evan buckley #evan buck buckely #evan buckley imagine #evan buckley x reader #evan buckey x eddie diaz #buck x eddie #Buck x eddie x reader #buddie x reader

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