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imagining-in-the-margins · 3 years

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Prickly Pear (S.R.)

Summary: Reader tries to hide her body hair from Spencer. It doesn't end well. Request: my body hair is really visible on my arms, chest, legs, and stomach. it makes me very insecure. could you do a spencer x reader fluff for me? Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Comfort/Fluff (Rated T, 16+) Content Warning: Discussion/allusions to sex, body hair, insecurity, burns, inadvertent self-harm (chemical burns), hair removal products, crying Word Count: 4k

MASTERLIST

I’d never been very good at understanding social situations. It’d been a big part of why I’d become a profiler. I mean, if I am already required to memorize every book on body language and behavioral clues just to get by, I might as well get paid for it, too.

Most of the time, it helped. Sometimes it got in the way. I was still only human, and I was bound to make mistakes. And that night, as I sat next to my new girlfriend, I couldn’t help but think that it was one of those times.

Everyone had assured me that the beginnings of things were always awkward. But before that night, I hadn’t ever felt that way with her. In fact, talking and hanging out with her were some of the only times I felt like I wasn’t a freak. She never had a problem explaining jokes and cultural references to me, and she was even happier to listen to me ramble for hours about the most obscure nonsense.

In a way, I blamed my friends for planting the idea in my head that tonight would be any different from any other night. I hadn’t even considered the fact that it was going to be our third date until someone said it out loud, and in doing so, they set off a chain reaction of realizations.

It was our third date. She had invited me to her house. We discussed staying the night.

Sex, I realized. My girlfriend wanted to have sex with me.

Cue the panic.

It wasn’t that I hadn’t wanted to have sex with her — I did. But in the few hours leading up to me showing up on her doorstep, I had considered a million different scenarios where something went wrong. I was no longer comforted by our past experiences because this was something different. Something complicated and new.

I only barely managed to calm myself down enough to go through with it all. I’d worked myself in and out of a frenzy and made it all the way to her house.

And the very second that she’d opened the door, I realized that I had gotten everything completely and terribly wrong.

I wish I could’ve said I was relieved to find her swamped neck to toes in thick fabric. After all, she was as beautiful to me in a turtleneck and fuzzy pants as she was in a little black dress (trust me, I’d seen her in both).

But in that moment, all I felt was pain. Because my girlfriend had barely been able to convince herself to smile, much less look at me while she did so. Her greeting, normally lively and excitable, had been dull and begrudging. I’d followed her inside because I wasn’t sure what else to do. Likewise, I accepted her curling into the absolute corner of her couch as an indication that she hadn’t wanted me to touch her.

I’d never been very good at understanding social cues, but even I knew she was screaming ‘no.’ And of course, I wasn’t a monster, so I’d accepted it at arm’s length.

But even that seemed to hurt her. Every few seconds, she’d peer over at me with a longing in her eyes that made my heart skip a beat. It would only last a few seconds, and then it would disappear again when she’d looked down at the sea of fabric.

I didn’t know what I was supposed to do. I’d wanted to hold her the same as I suspected she’d wanted me to. But I didn’t know how to deal with the conflicting reality that was her shielding herself from me in whatever little way she could.

She covered herself in blankets and pillows until she’d started to sweat. Her apartment wasn’t even hot, but she looked downright miserable. Each breath seemed to cause her pain, and no matter how much I tried to check up on her, she insisted that nothing was wrong.

She promised me, over and over that everything was normal. Up until she couldn’t.

In the few minutes I’d actually been looking at the television screen instead of her, something happened. I hadn’t even seen what it was, but it didn’t matter. Because in that split second of disaster, I heard the sharp, distinct shriek of pain from the girl next to me.

It shot through me worse than any bullet or blade. Immediately, I closed the gap between the two of us on the couch. I saw her holding tightly enough onto her arm that her knuckles blanched, and tears swelled in her eyes.

“What’s wrong?”

As expected, she was quick to insist, “Nothing! I’m fine.”

At the risk of stating the obvious, I pushed past the awkwardness and admitted, “You… don’t sound fine. That sounded like it really hurt. What happened?”

“I’m fine, really!” She hadn’t even been able to say that without straining, and despite her obvious efforts, she couldn’t let go of her arm. She trembled, stuck in place and breathing heavier by the second.

My heart was beating hard, too. The longer her obvious agony drew on, the more frightened I became. Pallor had washed over her usually bright face, and despite my best efforts, I couldn’t stop myself from running through a list of memorized ailments to find one that matched the situation.

But there wasn’t enough information. She’d gone to extreme lengths to hide basically everything but her face and hands from me, and I couldn’t for the life of me figure out why. I’d known that women were self-conscious at times, but I’d seen her in suggestive clothing before and she’d been nothing but confident.

Try as I might to convince myself that she was just like me — nervous about the potential for sex — there was no denying the sweat on her brow and the pain in watery eyes.

“Are you sure?” I asked, but she wasn’t able to respond through the deep breathing.

She closed her eyes and shut me out.

I didn’t know what to do. But the second she finally pried her fingers away from her arm, I couldn’t stop myself from reaching out to touch her for the first time that night.

This wasn’t how I’d wanted it to happen. I didn’t know what else to do.

“Maybe I should—" I tried to warn her, tried to prepare her for what was going to happen.

If only I could have prepared myself better, instead.

“Don’t!” she had shouted, but it had been too late.

Her skin had only been exposed for a fleeting second. Her sleeve hadn’t lifted far, just over the curve of her wrist, but it had been enough. Enough for me to see angry, swollen skin. Enough to see hundreds of tiny fluid filled blisters leading to what had to be thousands.

In the middle of the mess, there was a distinct set of stripes where she had apparently unintentionally scratched herself without thinking about the horrors hidden under soft, fluffy fabric.

It had been enough to understand the pain. More than enough.

“You…” I started, but I couldn’t find any way to explain what I’d just seen.

She moved through the obvious agony to cover her hands with the same sleeves that hid the rest.

“Nothing’s wrong, let’s just watch the movie,” she said with a strained laugh and tears in her eyes.

I couldn’t understand how she could pretend like it hadn’t happened. I knew that social rules dictated that I probably should’ve let it go. But I couldn’t. Not when she curled in on herself and inadvertently revealed that she had been wearing socks past her mid-calf.

I should’ve let her be. I shouldn’t have pushed the boundaries. I knew that it was wrong, dangerous even, to question someone who was clearly on the verge of a breakdown (and potentially even in shock from the pain), but I had to do something.

She didn’t even try to stop me when I began to lift the hem of her pants. She just sat there, closing her eyes and granting the few droplets that had gathered to slide down her cheek in silence.

Knowing what I would find didn’t help when I saw it. The same raw, mottled, and scorched skin. I had only gotten to her lower thigh before I couldn’t take it any longer. I covered her again, if only for her sake. She’d already known what I’d seen. We didn’t have to see it again.

We sat there for a while, with nothing but a forgotten movie reminding us that time marched on despite the revelation on the couch. My shock and confusion began to morph into anger that became overwhelming.

“What happened to you?” I asked first.

She didn’t answer.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“It’s fine,” she lied.

A better man might’ve spared her the embarrassment, but I had no interest in being a better man if it had meant letting her suffer in silence. Especially not when I’d seen many times before what could happen if she pretended like everything was fine when it clearly wasn’t.

“This isn’t fine at all,” I snapped, “Judging by your outfit, more than 50% of your body is covered in burns! We have to get you to a hospital, we have to get you on antibiotics. Do you have any idea how easy it is for a burn to get infected?!”

But no matter how insistently I’d said it, all she had the energy to do was sigh.

“Come on, I’m taking you,” I said, hoping that my insistence would be enough.

It wasn’t.

“I’m not going to the hospital, Spencer,” she spat, “Cut it out.”

“I’m not just going to sit here and pretend like you aren’t hurt!” I scoffed. And in the most regrettable move of the night, I failed to give her enough time to respond before I nearly shouted, “How did this even happen?!”

Then, in a deafening cry that was her raising her voice at me for the first time, she yelled back an answer that hurt worse than the burns.

“It’s my own fault, okay?!”

My heart, still pounding against my rib cage, felt like it turned to rocks in my chest. I said nothing because all my stupidity lodged in my throat and prevented any words from coming out.

But she was the opposite. The words were pouring out of her now, and her hands came up to her mouth to try and stop them.

“I did it,” she said through shaking fingers, “It’s all my fault.”

The sight of her sobbing, the sound of her screaming, brought me to my knees. I fell in front of her and reached for the only part of her I knew I could touch. Still, I grabbed her face gently and tried to wipe away a never-ending fountain of tears.

“Hey, don’t cry,” I shushed her to no avail, “Please don’t cry. I’m sorry I yelled, I’m not mad at you.”

When she regained her senses, the first thing she did was knock my hands away from her and croak, “Just go away.”

Maybe a better man would’ve. But I couldn’t.

“I’m really sorry, but I can’t do that. You have to understand why I can’t do that.”

She cried harder; hard enough that her whole body trembled with each choked sob. At first, I just sat there, feeling the full weight of watching someone fall apart and not being able to do anything about it.

But after her hands lost their strength and fell away, I took their place again. I pressed the cold backs of my fingers against hot cheeks. I felt the unsteady blow of equally hot breath and I wondered who had ever taught her that she had to be strong like that. Especially for something, someone as silly as me.

“It’s okay,” I whispered, hoping it might bring her eyes back to me.

It hadn’t worked, though. She kept staring down at the space between as she slurred, “I just wanted tonight to be special.”

However perplexing the statement had been, I knew I had to settle one aspect of it before I dared touch the rest of it.

“Look at me.”

It was a humble request, not an order. It took her time, as I’d suspected it might. I was more than happy to wait forever, although each moment was searing agony. I knew it would all be worth it when her eyes met mine again.

As expected, the second she peered up at me, cautiously and with blubbering lips, I was filled with a bittersweet relief. Because as much as it hurt to see her like that, it also reaffirmed what I’d wanted to say.

“Every second that I’m with you is the most remarkable second of my life,” I promised that girl with a dripping, stuffy nose and red-lined sclera. “Do you understand?”

The conclusion had come so easily, the words had slipped from my tongue the same as they had when I’d seen her at her best. She couldn’t deny their veracity, but she hadn’t wanted to admit to them fully just yet.

So, she gave a sheepish nod and turned her attention back to the ends of her sleeves.

I followed her eyes down but immediately regretted it. My flawless memory immediately reminded me of the sores and pain just beyond the cotton.

I tried to ease back into the conversation calmly and patiently. I took her hand before I asked, “How did you burn yourself?”

It didn’t matter. She broke down again immediately.

“God, I’m so stupid!” she cried as she squeezed my hand hard enough that her nails dug into the skin.

“No, you’re not. You’re not stupid,” I said as sternly as I could. I feared the waver in my tone might make things a little less convincing, but she’d thankfully accepted what she got.

I prayed she would be as agreeable with the next request.

“Do you have the chemical still?”

She gave a brief, bashful nod.

“Can I see it?”

That time when she nodded, she did so with the intention of standing. I shimmied out of her way as fast as possible, but she had scurried off so quickly I hadn’t even seen her turn the corner.

I took my seat on the couch again and looked down at tear-stained hands. I could still feel the scorching heat from her skin; still see the pain in her eyes as she bit back tears. I held back my own. If only for her sake.

Thankfully, she returned quickly enough that it had been easy not to let her see the full extent of my heartbreak. Instead, I became focused on the neon pink, foul-smelling tube in my hands.

“I… don’t understand,” I muttered as I turned it over once, twice, three times. I could tell from the smell alone what it’d consisted of, but that wasn’t what I couldn’t figure out.

Sensing my mounting confusion, she stuttered back, “W-What do you mean?”

“Why would… hair removal cream have made this night more special?”

Just like that, I realized that I’d done it again. I witnessed all five supposed stages of grief wash over her face before she laughed, albeit awkward and stunted.

“I… Well, you know… we made that joke about how it’s the third date, and so I figured we might…” she explained while twiddling her thumbs and trying to meet my eyes, however baffled they were.

When I made no move to finish the sentence, or symbolize my understanding of what she’d meant to imply, she squeaked, “W-We might… have sex?”

And therein lied the root of our misunderstanding.

“No, I’m not confused about that,” I dismissed with a wave of my hand. In hindsight, it might’ve seemed a rejection, but really, I’d meant it to communicate that I had imagined sex was a foregone conclusion. To make my confusion clearer, I explained, “I figured that part out. But why does body hair matter?”

Wrong answer, apparently.

Crossing her arms despite the pain it clearly caused, she scoffed back, “You know why, Spencer.”

“I’m sorry I… I really don’t,” I insisted.

She wasn’t convinced, so, like a madman, I tried again.

“I’ve never even noticed your body hair before. I definitely wouldn’t have noticed its absence.”

She scoffed again but said nothing at first. She just looked at me with this odd, contradictory feeling. It was like she’d wanted to believe what I’d said but couldn’t let herself for some reason. Even when faced with the obvious bewilderment of her idiot boyfriend, she had to believe that I’d wanted something about her to change.

Right on cue, she shot back, “You’re just saying that. Everyone says that, but I’m not stupid, okay?”

“I don’t think you are,” I answered with a similar conviction. Not only because I knew she needed me to persuade her, but because her belief that I was lying hit me deeper than she might’ve intended. “But I also hope you know that I wouldn’t lie to you about something as stupid as keratin.”

Her mouth snapped shut before she had a chance to say whatever pre-prepared rant she’d wanted to say. Her jaw steeled shut as it to permanently swallow the words.

For once, I was grateful that she couldn’t talk. I had no interest in hearing whatever self-degrading drivel the others had taught her to say about herself. Because really, how dare anyone think that I was capable of looking at her and seeing anything less than perfection. How dare she imply that I would lie to her about something so silly, that something so trivial would get in the way of my feeling for her.

But I knew that wasn’t fair, either. It wasn’t her fault that years of conditioning had beat her.

For now, I reminded myself. Conditioning could be undone. It just required a little bit of effort and a whole lot of love.

I was more than happy to provide both.

Gathering all the patience and care that I could, I stood to meet her in the middle of the room. As soon as I could reach out to her, I did. My fingertips barely brushed the bottom of her chin, but it was enough to make her look at me again.

Then, in a moment of bravery that I would forever be grateful for, she took a step forward. She stepped into my touch and let out a deep, pained breath as part of her burden fell on my shoulders instead. Metaphorically, of course. The burns made it too hard to hold her the way I’d wanted to.

But for the time being, one hand in hers and the other holding up her weary head would be more than enough for me.

“I also hope you know that there is nothing you could change about your appearance that would ever make you any more or less beautiful to me. It’s about so much more than that,” I promised her. The second she’d opened her mouth to reply, I cut her off swiftly and without remorse. Because I wasn’t finished yet.

“When I look at you all I see is the person I want to spend the foreseeable future with,” I explained.

And for the first time that night, she smiled. It was impossibly small, but it was there, and it was beautiful. It gave me hope that she might believe me, and potentially even laugh at my own stupid little confession.

“… and in the spirit of honesty, I only didn’t say the rest of my life because I’m worried that I’d be coming on a bit too strong for the third date.”

Her laughter was as breathtaking as ever. It made my own lungs empty like I might be able to offer her the oxygen. It didn’t matter to me that it made no sense scientifically; all that mattered was that I’d wanted to hear her laugh forever.

Eventually, though, it ended. Just enough for her to mutter back, “I don’t think it’s too strong.”

“Well… forever, then,” I answered without hesitation. “I mean it.”

Apparently having grown tired of listening to my lovesick rambling, she was quick to cut me off. But unlike the rest of the night, which had been a cacophony of sobs and shouting, she cut me off with her lips on mine.

There was a sweet silence as we came to remember each other’s gentle touch. I held my breath but held her harder. My hands laced through her hair because it was the only safe place for me to touch her the way I’d wanted to. With an insistence, an adoration so pure that she couldn’t deny it no matter how hard she tried.

The first time she tried to pull back, I was quick to kiss her again. Just to hear her laugh.

Unfortunately, the sound was broken with a desolate whisper below tired breath.

“I’m sorry that the night is ruined,” she said.

“Nonsense. I would love the opportunity to take care of you.”

But she was smarter than I’d given her credit for because she swiftly defeated my next mission with one simple sentence.

“I’m not going to the hospital.”

“Fine,” I sighed.

Then, pulling back farther, I got another idea.

“… but I am going to get you out of these clothes one way or another.”

“Spencer, I look ridiculous. There is no way in hell I’m getting naked in front of you looking like this,” she answered firmly.

But unfortunately for her, and like I’d said before, I was willing to put in the time and effort. Because she was worth it.

“I can be very persuasive,” I said before I kissed her again.

I kissed her until I felt her relax. Over and over, I kissed her until she couldn’t help but break it with laughter sputtering out of her lips and her hands peeking from behind oversized sweater sleeves.

“Spencer! Cut it out!”

But she didn’t move away. In fact, she even went so far as to kiss me first just to ensure that I hadn’t prolonged the touch any more than necessary.

But that was part of the point I was trying to make. That if given the opportunity, I would have never let her go.

Our eyes locked again. There was no longer any painful tension. No secrets, no hidden suffering. It was just a softness, a forgiveness for the moments where we failed to see each other from the other’s eyes.

For now, I promised myself.

“Give me a chance to prove that I don’t care about the silly stuff,” I begged her with crackling voice and belated tears, “Please.”

I should’ve given her credit, though. She had always been cleverer than the rest.

“Fine… you win,” she sighed through the brightest smile yet.

It would be beat pretty quickly, though. Pretty much the same second that she heard me say, “Alright, pretty lady. Time for you to strip.”

Although it wasn’t the context either of us had expected it to be in, I didn’t mind. In fact, I quite liked the way it made her laugh.

Because she was beautiful. Always, and exactly as she was.

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1kook · 4 years

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viki & hickeys

the 8th installment to netflix & chill :~)

SUMMARY Just like in those Viki dramas Jungkook likes, the world around you is enveloped in shades of pink and red, kisses and hearts, so many goddamn roses it makes you sneeze. It’s absolutely perfect— nothing could possibly go wrong when there’s so much love in the air. WARNINGS a little hurt + a lot of comfort, mentions of cheating!villain!jin, insecure!kook, emotional breakdowns, mentions of jk’s lonely past, jk cries :( smut in the forms of making out, eating out, fingering, clit play, hickeys, jk likes cum, double orgasm, squirting, tiny praise kink, blindfolding, rough + unprotected sex, doggy style, choking!!!, breeding/impreg kink, JEALOUS KOOK, mini hand kink, a lil bit of spanking, degradation, he gets progressively meaner lol oc cries MISC there’s a lot of fuckin plot omfg -_-, it’s Valentine’s Eve!, doyeon makes Some Points, mentions of park seojoon juicy ass, they go on a d8 😳, oc like rlly wants to marry him, oc commits double phone homicide RATING m (18+) WC 16.3k !!!! ik its fckin LOOOONG

NOTES (!) in true Viki fashion, here’s an nc fic where there’s like 3 different plot lines n a hot male antagonist <3 this series started off as just me wanting to write smut n it still is! now i just like to infuse different levels of angst into it as well </3 as always, lemme know what u think!! i proofread it twice but one of those times had been at 4 am so if u see a typo no u didn't. also here’s a gif of jungkook crying during a dolly parton performances and here’s another gif of jungkook crying bc it’s scary how pretty he looks

Being evil and hot does not come for free. As you’ve long since learned in the past twenty-three years of your life, you truly can’t have it all.

There is always some deliberating character flaw the universe must bestow upon you in order to level you out, make you fall onto the same plane as all the other mortals. Everyone has one, no matter how small or insignificant. Doyeon’s is that she doesn’t know how to work a straightening iron. Namjoon's is that he can’t tell the difference between water and liquor. Jungkook, despite all his tech-y nerdiness, doesn’t know how to do his own taxes. And yours? You don’t know shit about romcoms.

Your knowledge on the romantic genre is what leads to this predicament now, the ring on your finger heavy as Doyeon regards you with what is perhaps the most unimpressed look known to mankind. “This is a promise ring,” she says bluntly, the bustling sounds of the coffee shop around you the soundtrack to your sudden realization.

“No,” you deny, even though you know she’s right. “It’s an engagement ring.”

Doyeon rolls her eyes. “Babe,” she starts slowly, talks to you like you’re a dorky high schooler with her first boyfriend, “did he ask you to marry him?”

The truth is, the timing had been weird. It had been a few days after you’d rocked Jungkook’s world so you understand if he felt the sudden need to pop the question. But you were also sick as fuck that day, had only vaguely remembered the events because you were too busy with the snot up your nose and the raging fever you were battling. Had Jungkook asked you to marry him?

You’re not so sure.

It’s been a little over a month since then, and sure his lack of proactive wedding planning was a little weird, but you had always assumed Jungkook was one of those people who liked long engagements. Liked to drag out the last few months as a bachelor. Maybe he was waiting until you were both financially stable or something, who knows.

Doyeon had been on some soul-searching journey around the country, so she hadn't been home for a while, had only heard of the ring through a two-second snapchat. This is the first time she’s seeing you and it in person; you can tell by the expression on her face that she’s rightfully disappointed.

“Have you no shame, woman?” she tuts, arms crossed over her chest. “You have me parading around the world bragging about your engagement— just for this?”

You knock your forehead against the table, know it’s dirty and icky, but you deserve it. “Listen,” you huff. “I’ve only seen The Notebook, like, once.”

She scoffs. “I can tell. This is so embarrassing, don’t tell me you’ve brought it up to him?”

At her words you startle, nearly send the drinks flying across the floor. “No!” you shout, mindlessly reaching to twist the ring around your finger. It’s become a habit these past few weeks, a comfort to feel it around you. Granted, the feeling is a little muted now. “Of course he’d get me a promise ring,” you grumble, gaze flickering down to the silver band on your ring finger. “Jungkook loves all that cheesy corny stuff.” He really did.

You’ve had enough of Doyeon’s disappointment, decide this coffee date has brought you enough three am anxiety material for the next year and a half. You conclude your date by taking a walk around town, arms locked together as you laugh at people who pass by because you’re both a little mean.

“Maybe it’s for the best,” she says, and you agree. Well, a promise ring certainly meant something. It was, essentially, a pre-engagement ring. And the engagement ring that followed was a pre-wedding ring. And a wedding ring was, well, a wedding ring. Your heartbeat thunders at the thought. “You’re busy right now anyway,” she points out, snapping you out of your bumbling thoughts. “Aren’t you getting promoted at work soon?”

Oh, you certainly were getting promoted at work. After many grueling months of hard work and dedication, the fruits of your labor were finally being recognized. Gone were the days of useless desk work, intern-like errands that barely required the use of any higher-order brain functions. You had worked hard these past few months, proved your worth over and over again, until you were here. Getting promoted into a new branch at your company— one where your talents were actually needed. And truth be told, there was one man to thank for that.

Your friend and superior, Kim Seokjin.

Seokjin is a great boss. In fact, you could argue he’s the best in the entire world and that, if it wasn’t for him, you would have quit this job that first month you started. But you had him to push you along, friendly smiles and encouragements that kept you going until this point, where you’re being promoted up into a branch where your degree finally matters. And it was all thanks to him! What Kim Namjoon was to Jungkook, Kim Seokjin was to you.

So what if he cheated on his wife and flirted with the secretaries— Seokjin was practically a god in your eyes.

And what Seokjin did in his free time was frankly none of your business anyway. You were colleagues at work, got along fairly well, but outside of work you were practically strangers. He was your beloved work colleague, someone Jungkook teased you about endlessly despite never having met him, and you were immensely thankful for him. “Should I be scared he’ll steal you from me?” Jungkook had joked one night, standing behind you as you scrolled through your company profile page. “He is a little handsome.”

You had pinched his side, smiling at his feigned concern when he pressed his lips to your temple. “You’re right,” you had joked back, “he is sooo cool.” And Jungkook had bitten you on the shoulder, laughed that pretty laugh when you yelped in surprise.

Anyway, Kim Seokjin was a god, Jungkook was on his way to maybe, hopefully, one day, being your husband, and all was well.

To honor this moment in time, you decide to swing by Jungkook’s place after your date with Doyeon, finding him lazily sprawled across his living room couch while What’s Wrong with Secretary Kim? plays on the Jumbotron. He’s in between projects right now, so he’s spent most of his time relaxing and catching up on all his favorite shows.

Which brings you back to that deliberating character flaw of yours: no knowledge of the romantic genre to utilize in your everyday life. Your love language has always been blunt words, teasing jabs, the raw and unfiltered type of love. Emotions? Impossible to figure out. You’ve gotten pretty far in life reading verbal and physical cues; with Jungkook, you always know he’s upset when he does the little tongue-against-cheek thing, and it has saved you from many potential arguments.

On the other hand, it is so obvious what Jungkook’s love language is when he spends fifty percent of his time on Viki, home to some of the most cheesy kdramas in existence. Most guys spend their weekends watching sports or dramatic action movies, but here was Jungkook. Watching some guy try to court his secretary.

(Okay, he does watch sports and action movies too, but that’s not the point!)

“Hello, sweet boy,” you greet, plopping down beside him. Jungkook smiles back softly. He’s serving absolute pre-pre-husband deliciousness right now, cute glasses, fluffy curls, plaid bottoms that make him look so comfy. God, you were going to suck his dick tonight.

Jungkook slots his mouth against yours, tastes like the chocolate cake you specifically told him not to eat without you. He blindsides you before you can scold him, pulls you onto his lap where the swell of his cock nudges against your thigh. Oh, you were definitely going to suck his dick and ride him well into the sunrise.

“What’s my pretty girl doing here tonight?” he asks, cutely looping his fingers through yours. “Thought you were with the Wicked Witch of the West today?”

You roll your eyes, reposition yourself in a laughable attempt at pretending like you’re actually interested in the show. “We just went out for lunch,” you explain, watching the hot lead saunter across the screen. Juicy ass, but nothing compared to Jungkook’s.

There’s a question lingering on the tip of your tongue, Doyeon’s explanations mixed with your worries, and you hold it for exactly ten seconds before you’re turning to face him head on, eyes going a little crossed from how close he is. “Hey,” you say bluntly. “Is this a promise ring?” you ask, wiggle your finger in his face.

Jungkook blinks, once, twice, and then his face shoots up in flames. “Maybe,” he mumbles, lips pursed as he tries to avoid your gaze. He was adorable. You laugh, endeared by the red flush that crawls over his cute little cheeks and up his ears. Unable to stop yourself, you squeeze said cheeks between your hands, cooing at the annoyed expression that consumes him soon afterwards.

“Aw, you want to marry me,” you tease, but it’s secretly a leading question for him to confess that yes, he does want to marry you. For as hot and confident as you are, you too are plagued with doubts. Doubts that can only be smoothed over by hearing it straight from Jungkook’s mouth.

He rolls his eyes, trying to break free from your hold. “We’ve talked about this,” he murmurs, all embarrassed. But like always, Jungkook knows exactly what you want so he doesn’t deny it, and that’s good enough for you. He’s too flustered to look you in the eye now, childishly craning his head away from you when you try to force him into a staring contest. “Can I finish my show?” he whines, slightly not as hard now that you’ve reduced him into a shy, bumbling mess. It was a nice change of pace from his usual, composed self.

But you relent, sliding off his lap to sit against his side, classic octopus hug around his waist. The episode is in full swing, not that you know anything about it. Like you said, romantic shows and movies were the least of your concerns. Jungkook, however, eats this type of shit up. “He still trying to fuck her?” you ask, not the least bit interested, but if you’re planning on sucking his dick tonight you have to listen to a few minutes of him rambling first.

Jungkook sighs. “Yeah,” he says, “I don’t get it.” You hum, trail your hand over his abdomen teasingly. He feels so warm and lean beneath your palm, you were getting hot just thinking about it. “Why would anyone agree to dating their boss?”

You know that Jungkook’s boss is some old Facebook fart, pioneer of something on the site that neither of you two care about. So it makes sense that such a notion disturbs him. You shrug anyway. “Everyone wants to sleep with their hot boss,” you offer. “It’s like, the power dynamic, I guess.”

His frown deepens. “Would you?” Your boss isn’t exactly an old fart; the reason Kim Seokjin was such a renowned playboy is because, well, he had the looks to pull it off. Still, he had become a sort of respectable figure to you and the idea of sleeping with him doesn’t really sound appealing as much as it would to any other random bachelorette, which you admittedly were not. You glance at the screen, where Park Seojoon swaggers around in those tight slacks and fitted button-ups.

“Hm,” you ponder, “maybe.”

Jungkook laughs. “You’re supposed to say no, you idiot,” he says, knocks his forehead against yours softly. You can’t help but chuckle too, enamored with the happy glint in his eyes and the way his smile eats up his features.

Oh, you loved this man.

Because he was so sweet and good on Christmas, you let Jungkook make the plans for Valentine’s Day. After all, it’s his favorite holiday (“Why? Well, because it’s a day all about you, and me, and us,” he had sighed dreamily in the bathtub one night, hair adorably pushed back to showcase that handsome face of his. Bubbles clung to his chest, had made you dizzy with every breath he took.), so it’s only right that he gets to make the itinerary for the day, fill it with all his favorite things. After all, cheesy romantic stuff like this was right up his lane.

He reserves a spot at the fanciest restaurant in the city, the one that has a months long waiting list. It sounds perfect, and the closer it gets to February 13th, the more excited you become. You say 13th because the 14th is a Sunday, and as much as you would love to get on your knees and praise Jungkook’s body until the wee hours of the next day, you have work. So Sunday is off the table. And it’s better this way, you tell yourself. Everywhere would have been packed that day anyway.

It seems like everywhere you go, the entire world is gearing up for the holiday; from the fast food drive-thru to your favorite lingerie shop, there’s Valentine’s Day specials everywhere you look. Just like in those Viki dramas Jungkook likes, the world around you is enveloped in shades of pink and red, kisses and hearts, so many goddamn roses it makes you sneeze. It’s absolutely perfect— nothing could possibly go wrong when there’s so much love in the air.

But what good is a lovey-dovey holiday without your own lovey dove himself?

One glance out your window and your knees feel weak, because there he is. Dressed in a loose satin button up, shoulders broad, chest defined. He’s got on these fitted dress pants that accentuate his tiny waist too, thick thighs bulging beneath the fabric. There’s a coat hugging his frame, something to shield him from the cold while he waits out on the curb, does this cute little shivering dance in an attempt to warm up his muscles. Your heart feels like it’ll explode at the sight, and you can practically hear the corny, overused romantic song playing in the background of your thoughts, so you hurriedly distract yourself by slipping tonight’s dress on.

It’s cold outside, but the sight of Jungkook makes you feel warm and fuzzy everywhere. He’s so hot it makes you dizzy, and the sap knows it when he meets you on the sidewalk. Instinctively, his hand reaches out to tangle with yours, the other slipping around your waist. “Hi, gorgeous,” he greets playfully, kissing your knuckles. His hair has grown out a little, curls up cutely when he lets it air dry and tickles your skin when he gets too close. “Lookin’ like Secretary Kim.”

“Oh? So does that make you my hot boss?” you tease as you make your way to the car.

As always, he opens the door for you first, flashes you this dorky little wink as he rounds the front of the car. “If it means you’ll sleep with me tonight, then sure,” he says, buckling himself in. You roll your eyes at his claim. You don’t get to see the proud little smile on his face; by the time you’ve composed yourself, he’s already pulling off in the direction of the restaurant.

It’s a classy thing, a restaurant and bar in some insanely tall skyscraper. Of course your seats are right beside one of the huge floor to ceiling windows, overlooking the beautiful, glittering cityscape. “Fancy,” you murmur as you sit down, catching a glimpse of the eye roll Jungkook gives you.

“You say that about any place that serves wine,” he chuckles, reaching for the bottle on the table to pour you a glass.

The wine tastes like perfection, aged for the perfect amount of time. Whatever that was. You don’t really know, but it tastes amazing! Still, amazement aside, you manage a scoff. “I didn’t say that about your house on our first date,” you huff anyway, throwing him a playful glare over the rim of your glass.

Jungkook laughs, full and real this time. It’s a little too loud for the classy establishment you find yourselves in, drowns out the jazz music for a second. “That’s because it was a house,” he says, wearing that big, shiny smile you adore, “and we were watching Transformers.” An amazing date, the mere memory of it makes your toes curl. He had been so dreamy— nearly two years ago now! —and had retained that aura up to the present day. You don’t think you’ve ever been so in love with anyone or anything in this world before, as cheesy as it was to admit.

As if sensing your sudden wandering thoughts, Jungkook nudges your ankle under the table. “Hey,” he says so softly you could melt; his voice was so silky and sweet. “Everything okay?” he asks.

A sigh, chin in your palm. You had to have been abducted by aliens or something— there was no way this was your life, this disgustingly romantic date with this disgustingly handsome man. An episode of Black Mirror maybe? One where you get forced to live in a romantic Viki drama with the man you love, every single day for the rest of your life? Maybe.

Dramatics aside, you could practically feel that sticky sweet, sentimental monster begging to crawl to the surface, unleash the entire Shakespearean collection of lovesick sonnets on your unsuspecting boyfriend in the middle of this restaurant. But the weird ones, were you accidentally dedicate an entire six lines to the bulge of Jungkook’s thighs in his workout pants or the heart-shaped mole on his shoulder. Those kind. Before that can happen, you settle on an equally as gentle, “I love you,” murmured for only him to hear.

Across the table, Jungkook smiles. One of those thin ones when he’s trying to keep his composure but is actually quite flustered, his subtle bunny teeth nibbling at his lower lip. “Thanks,” he responds, still trying to play it cool, but then he almost knocks his glass down and you’re reminded just how perfect he was, flaws and all. “Me too.”

You jab the pointed tip of your stiletto against his shin. “Say it back,” you warn and he laughs.

“I love you,” Jungkook says like it’s the easiest thing in the world. Straight out of a romantic drama, like the ones on Viki that require a minimum of four different story arcs just to get to this point. But with Jungkook, it takes a few shy smiles and maybe a kiss. It has a scorching heat rising on your cheeks, one you ward away with a hurried sip of your drink while Jungkook reaches for your hand, thumb rubbing over your promise ring as if for good luck.

That singular phrase makes your world pause, its axis stalling while you deal with the overwhelmingly soft and gooey feelings in your chest. Oh jeez, you had to rock his world tonight. It was only right. He deserved it for making you feel like this— this silly and ditzy, like a middle schooler with her crush.

Anyway the food gets to your table after a millennia. Jungkook orders some fancy lobster dish, one that you're pretty sure costs more than the purse you brought along tonight (to be fair, you’re a cheap buyer), and still has the audacity to poke around at your plate too. He eats enough to feed a schoolhouse full of children who’ve just come off recess, practically devouring the table cloth before you stop him. And then he doesn’t let you see the bill; “baby, don’t worry about that when you’re with me,” he purrs, warm breath fanning against the skin on your neck, drunk off pure love and strawberry lemonade because he was driving tonight. The hostess is a blushing mess, fumbling for his change as Jungkook practically gropes your ass in plain sight.

You swear he’s spending too much time on that Viki streaming service, because then, as if the romantic dinner date wasn’t enough, he whisks you off to an even more romantic walk along the river.

If there was ever a world record for “Number of Times you can Make your Girlfriend Swoon,” you’re positive Jungkook had broken it in the span of a few hours. You feel so light-headed and in love by the time you reach the river.

“You know,” you tell him as you walk, the serene sounds of the flowing water beside you the soundtrack to your date. Jungkook swings your joined hands between the two of you. It’s chilly but you’re so full and happy that you don’t let it bother you. “I was gonna throw wine at you when we first met.”

He cackles, that loud, airy sound again that he only lets you hear, with his head thrown back. “What?” he gasps, smiley and pretty, your pretty boy. “And why were you going to do that?”

You huff, feeling slightly embarrassed now to admit such a thing. But aside from Doyeon, no one else has ever heard this classified tale. And well, you’re feeling extra emotional tonight. An abundance of emotions in one night usually ended with you crying like a little bitch at some point or another, so you’re trying to push that off for later. “Because,” you sigh, squeezing his fingers, your lone promise ring versus his assortment of fashionable rings. “You sounded like an absolute fuck boy when you first texted me!”

Jungkook scoffs, playfully scandalized. “Me?” he squawks, pausing to stand in front of you with wide eyes and a ridiculously huge smile, the kind that has his brows raised high, lips going thin, practically displaying every tooth in his mouth from how wide it is.

“Jungkook,” you say calmly, shoving one finger against his chest. “You asked me to Netflix & chill for our first date.”

He groans, using your entwined hands to pull you into his arms for a suffocating hug. “I already told you,” he laughs, patting the back of your head while you get in a few lighthearted punches against his sides. “I didn’t know what it meant.”

“Whatever, you sleaze,” you say anyway, eventually melting into his hands. “Bet you tell all the girls that.” Jungkook makes another scandalized noise, but settles when you wrap your hands around him. He smells so good and familiar, comforting even. Like home and safety, a refuge for your heart. When you’re this close, you can hear the light beating of it beneath your ear, a steady rhythm that has you closing your eyes when he begins humming your favorite song.

He gets about two verses in when your phone suddenly goes off.

Everything in your body says to ignore it, to continue basking in the comfort of your boyfriend’s embrace and this absolutely perfect moment. But it’s the stupid ringtone you set for all your work peers when you first loaded the entire company contact list onto your phone, so the sound alone lets you know it’s a work-related call. And for work to be calling you on a weekend was definitely not a good sign.

“Give me a sec,” you tell Jungkook, pulling away from his arms. He frowns but lets you go, staying close as you dig through your purse for the offending device.

It’s Kim Seokjin calling at this peculiar hour, a fact that confuses the hell out of you. Jungkook’s bouncing on his heels in an attempt to fight off the chill, giving you his beautiful side profile as he glances down the winding sidewalk that follows the river, and then at his watch. His nose is a cute red color that you want to kiss so bad. But work calls, so you tighten up and let that dream go for now. You swipe your thumb across the screen.

“Hello, Mr. Kim,” you greet, trying to keep the confusion out of your voice. “How can I help—“

“__, my love,” he beams through the phone, so fucking loud it has Jungkook glancing over curiously. You give him a tight-lipped smile, one he returns as he shuffles closer, trying to steal your warmth like a penguin. You let him snuggle close before turning back to the droning voice of your superior on the line.

“Hello,” you repeat again, slowly. Jungkook takes your free hand in his; when he squeezes, the band of your promise ring digs into your skin just the slightest. “Was something the matter?”

Seokjin laughs, loud and clear. There’s a lot of other noises filtering in through his line. Briefly, you remember that there had been some work-related party for the higher ups tonight so you write it off as that. “Does there need to be a problem for me to call you, love?”

You falter. Beside you, Jungkook’s brows furrow together, his devilishly handsome features even more pronounced. He’s obviously heard the other man on the line. “Um,” you flounder for a second, “well, usually yes.”

Without missing a beat, Seokjin carries on with a playful tut that you’re almost certain has him lifting the receiver up to his mouth, because it’s so goddamn loud it has you flinching away from your own device. “My __,” he says, sweet and… slurred?

He’s never used this tone of voice on you, only on other women at the office. Something about his broken marriage and needing to heal a wound, you don’t fucking know. You can’t even begin to truly understand that logic, which is why you’ve always just ignored it. Still, in the last few months of knowing Seokjin, he has never made a pass at you. Until now, that is. And until now, you had kind of convinced yourself he saw you in a sisterly way. Which sure, was worse than being friendzoned. But this was your boss you were talking about. Whether you got sister-zoned or not by him was the least of your concerns. So what was going on? What had changed over the span of a few days that had him suddenly reaching out to you on a weekend?

Beside you, Jungkook doesn’t look the slightest bit impressed, tongue prodding against his cheek as Seokjin rambles on the line. You wish you had lowered the volume before answering, but doing so now would appear suspicious, even you could admit that. “You’re amazing, you know that?” Seokjin praises. You nod, remember he can’t see you, and settle on a blunt thanks instead. Jin laughs. “You’re different from the rest,” he hums, voice soft and weirdly intimate.

Jungkook’s frown deepens. “What does he want?” he murmurs, somehow managing to keep his voice calm as always. The deep furrow of his brows and the tongue-against-cheek motion he had done just a few seconds ago all indicate he’s annoyed, that much you can tell.

You shrug, eyes wide as you hurry to get to the reason for the phone call. You’re almost certain it’s just Seokjin being drunk— many people drunkenly dial their friends and family to tell them how much they’re appreciated, this wasn’t anything weird!

Is what you try to convince yourself, but then Seokjin’s voice is dropping an octave by your ear. “Did you get my gift?” he murmurs, voice nearly drowned out by the sounds of the event he’s at.

“Huh?” you stammer, quite stupidly if you do say so yourself. Jungkook shifts closer, obviously trying to hear. A breeze ruffles his hair, his cologne wafting over you. “What?”

A sigh over the line. “My gift, love,” Kim Seokjin says, loud and proud. Jungkook exhales, hard. “I had it sent to your house this evening. Something pretty for a pretty girl— don’t tell me the postman fucked that up,” he jokes and Jungkook huffs, practically breathing fire through his nose when he hears the words.

You fidget. There had been no gift when Jungkook picked you up around sunset, not like you had expected anything to begin with. And aside from Jungkook and maybe your parents, there was no one else on this planet you wanted to receive a Valentine’s Day gift from anyway, especially not from your boss of all people. “Um,” you mumble, acutely aware of the way Jungkook’s face is nearly pressed to yours now in his effort to listen in on your phone call. “I— um, haven’t been home, Seokjin.”

Jungkook scoffs, spits out a particularly unimpressed, “Seokjin?”

Said man doesn’t hear. “Oh, of course,” he says, almost sullenly. “I forgot you had that little boyfriend to entertain tonight.”

It’s the breaking point for Jungkook, who leans back to glare at the phone with the heat of a thousand suns. You press it against your chest before he can hear anything else. “I’m sorry,” you rush out in a hurried whisper, eyes flickering over his face, trying to gauge the intensity of his emotions. “I think he’s drunk— he’s never said things to me like this before,” you stammer, feeling like you have to defend yourself for some reason. “I’ll- I’ll take care of it, okay?” No answer, just an aggravated shake of his head, like he’s trying to calm himself down. “Jungkook?” you say, can feel the panic begin to lace your voice when his eyes flutter shut.

He calms your worries with a gentle head butt that has you gasping in surprise, one hard exhale fanning over you. “Okay,” he says, teeth clenched. “I’m gonna go sit.” And then he stiffly walks over to one of the many benches lining the pathway. He sits, just like he had said he would, and glares down at his hands instead.

The sight makes you anxious, unsure of how to diffuse the situation because, like you’ve said many times before, dealing with emotions— especially someone else’s emotions —was hard. Your eyes refuse to leave his figure as you draw the phone back up to your ear again. “Hello?” you call, voice trembling when Jungkook finally looks your way. The soft look he had given you all night is nowhere to be found, replaced with this rather unreadable expression. Something between annoyance and confusion if you had to guess. You don’t know, and the fact you don’t know makes you panic. Your chest feels tight when Seokjin begins speaking again.

“You know,” he says, “you’re quite something, __. Strong, confident. Beautiful.” Had you been anyone else, you might have been flattered by Kim Seokjin’s remarks, maybe would have swooned. He was, objectively speaking, a handsome man with a hefty bank account.

But if that was the criteria for a man to make you swoon, then the man on the bench in front of you checked all the same boxes three times over. The man who’s brows draw closer and closer together the longer you linger on the phone. Jungkook’s foot does one agonizing tap against the concrete and you find yourself stammering into the phone. “I think you’re drunk, Jin.”

A scoff. “I am,” he agrees, and doesn't even bother to hide it. “But you remind me of her, you know that? I like that.”

It’s like he knows something is going on on the line, because Jungkook visibly bristles when you sidestep in surprise. What was going on, your brain screams. Having your superior compare you to his infidel wife was definitely not something you saw coming tonight. “Uh, okay?” you say, “listen, Seokjin— Mr. Kim, I’m... I have a boyfriend. And I really lov—“

He cuts you off. Jungkook bristles at the sudden stop of your sentence. “Yeah, yeah,” Seokjin drawls, and you can feel the sheer terror of accidentally jeopardizing your relationship with Jungkook step aside for the briefest moment to allow some annoyance to seep through. Annoyed with Seokjin and his audacity, his tone, his voice. “Mrs. Kim used to say that about me,” he chuckles humorlessly, “I love you, I love you, I love you.” A long pause. You’re unsure of how to respond. “It’s not real,” Seokjin says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the entire world. “Love, that is.”

You clench your jaw, gathering your thoughts to respond when Seokjin beats you to it. “But you know what, love?” You don’t respond. Seokjin pushes on anyway. “Someone’s gonna cheat sooner or later— why not beat him to it?”

Your body reacts first, a startled gasp inhaled through your lips at his disrespectful preposition. Your phone slips out of your grasp. It bounces twice, lands on the ledge that gives way to the river, and you almost kick it in when Jungkook comes up behind you. “Hey, hey,” he says sternly, tugging you away from the phone you almost killed. “What’s wrong— what did he say?”

You exhale, face warm from the discomfort sitting heavy in your chest. “Nothing,” you huff, mind slightly foggy as you try to process that awkward conversation. “It’s— it was stupid,” you spit, pressing the heels of your palms against your temples, the raging anger and confusion making your head pound now.

You had always known Kim Seokjin wasn’t the most faithful man, that the infidelity ran both ways in his relationship. But you had never imagined he would ever compare you to her, his cheating wife, in an attempt to win you over. Furthermore, you’re downright disturbed by the fact he would even try to hit on you after all the mentoring he’d given you, all the polite smiles he’d flashed you, all the praise you had bestowed upon him to Jungkook.

Jungkook, whose jaw twitches as his hands graze your forearms. When you look at him again, you feel an immense wave of remorse wash over you at the way his own irritation is clouded by his worry for you. He had been wronged as well— disrespected just like you —but here he was, pushing his own emotions aside for your sake. He doesn’t want to see you upset. He was so good at dealing with your emotions, knew just what to do when things became too much.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, lips pursed together. “I don’t know why— he’s never— I wouldn’t do that,” you settle on, voice wobbling when Jungkook’s jaw clenches. “Jungkook,” you frown, reaching for his hands, “I wouldn’t—“

He shushes you with another one of those gentle forehead bumps. “Calm down,” he says, voice deeper than usual. “I know you wouldn’t.”

Weirdly, it feels like you’ve committed a grave sin against your boyfriend. A crime. “I’m sorry,” you blubber anyway, heart thundering in your chest. “That was horrible,” you huff, desperately blinking away the stinging sensation behind your eyes. “You didn’t deserve to hear that.”

“Don’t cry,” Jungkook says, so soft and comforting; stable. You want his composure, his ability to process and understand things so quickly— his maturity. Sure he had been put off by Seokjin, but he had processed it all so quickly; adapted to the situation and stepped in to save you. Meanwhile, you nearly committed cellular murder because you couldn’t handle yourself. “He’s a weirdo,” he says, for both your sakes. “You didn’t do anything wrong, sweetheart.”

Still, you sniffle. “I’m sorry,” you say again, the heavy feeling in your chest lightening just a little bit when he pulls you into his arms.

“Crybaby,” he teases softly, a kiss on the crown of your head. You pinch his side. “Second phone you broke in a year.”

The mood for the riverwalk is off after that, and you only walk a few more meters before Jungkook decides it’s enough. “We can still enjoy ourselves at home,” he reassures you, and the way he tries to salvage that soft, fuzzy feeling from before is admirable. So Jungkook takes you home, holds your hand the whole drive back to your place, like he knows you’re still fragile from that extremely uncomfortable interaction, need him to hold you together. Jungkook’s emotional stability guards you like a shield, covers you in a wave of comfort as you calm down. You tell him about Seokjin’s preposition and he bristles. “Prick,” he murmurs beneath his breath, grip tightening just the tiniest bit. Your ring pinches against your skin a little painfully, but you say nothing.

There’s a box of flowers on your doorstep when you arrive, one that makes Jungkook pause at the sight. “Wonderful,” he drones, picking it up for you as you unlock the front door. It gets left on the coffee table, practically mocking the two of you as you remove your shoes and coats. “That’s your favorite flower,” Jungkook notes.

You glance at the expensive bouquet. “It is.”

Jungkook drops down onto your couch, eyes flickering to the meticulous arrangement in front of him. “You told him?” Not really. But back when you had thought Jungkook and you were engaged (read: last week), you had spent days looking at different floral shops that specialized in this flower, frequently leaving the tab open on your work computer. Seokjin must have seen it then. At your extended silence, Jungkook says, “nice.”

You frown, setting your heels on the shoe rack. “Baby, I didn’t,” you tell him softly, reaching for the zip on the back of your dress. It comes down, and after clearing your hips, it falls to the floor in a dark heap you pick up quickly. It leaves you scantily clad in a black lingerie set. Meanwhile, Jungkook drops his head back, glaring at your ceiling. Tentatively, you step over to him, toying with the fabric of your dress in your hands. “You said it was okay.”

“I know,” he sighs, an unexpected confession from him that makes you pause. Despite all you’ve been through, he still rarely highlighted situations that upset him. “It’s just,” he says, turning his head to look at your form again, eyes not drinking you in like you hoped he would. “It’s scary.”

The couch cushion dips beneath your weight when you settle beside him. “What is?”

Jungkook shrugs, avoiding your question by reaching for the TV remote on the coffee table, right beside the box of flowers Seokjin had sent. He opens up the Viki app in a flash— the one linked to his account —and has even loaded up the next episode of Secretary Kim when you question him again. “What’s scary, Jungkook?” you repeat.

On screen, there’s a beautiful scene on a bridge, the two leads happily conversing. It’s serene, something neither you nor Jungkook feel at the moment.

Eventually, he says, “you could leave.”

You pause. “What do you mean?” Leave? Where on earth would you leave to when this was your home? He doesn’t meet your gaze.

Another scene passes by on screen, some cheesy line and an even cheesier promise. Jungkook’s foot taps against the floor, the sound dull against the plush rug beneath you. It’s a nervous tick you’ve only seen him do at the height of truly stressful situations. Weird because just half an hour before you had dubbed him as the epitome of calm and collected at the river.

“I thought he was cool before.”

He did. But the word ‘cool’ didn’t always have the same meaning for Jungkook as it did for you.

In the past, Jungkook had frequently joked about having to meet Kim Seokjin and thank him for all the help he’s given you at work. After all, up until now, you had only ever had good things to say about the man, raving about his cool demeanor and respectable work ethics. Now, the memories paired with the conversation from earlier leave a bad taste in your mouth.

You’re a little confused with Jungkook right now; part of you had convinced yourself that whatever happened on the phone earlier with Seokjin was put behind you, marked off as an anomaly in the evening. After all, Jungkook himself had said it was okay. Park Seojoon appears on screen, and you can’t help but glare at the character, residue emotions from the river pushed off onto this innocent actor.

Still, Jungkook surprises you. “It’s just that—“ he sighs. And then, “what if you leave?”

You blink, eyes trained on his side profile and the way he’s nervously chewing through his bottom lip until it tints a red shade, gives way to sensitive skin when he bites too hard. “Why would I leave?”

He says nothing. On screen, Park Seojoon says something so cheesy and romantic that it would have otherwise made you cringe, made Jungkook soft. But he’s stiff as a board beside you instead. You almost think he’s going to disregard the entire conversation when he finally speaks again. “Well.” You perk up at the sound of his voice, overly aware of the way he’s started picking at the skin around his thumb again, another nasty habit you’ve been trying to help him get over. “He’s cool. Rich.”

“And so are you,” you offer, covering his hand with your own.

Jungkook ignores you, releasing a long, shaky exhale. Somehow, he’s exuding a similar energy as before; discontentment mixed with understanding. Like he’s greatly conflicted but forcing himself to remain calm. Another trembling inhale, and then Jungkook quietly recites, “everyone wants to sleep with their hot boss.”

You recoil just the slightest, brows pinched together at the absurd conclusion he’s drawn. “Baby, that was just a silly conversation,” you say slowly, slipping your hand into his. He squeezes so tight you’re afraid he’ll break your bones. “And we were joking—“

“I know!” he exclaims, enveloping your significantly smaller hand in both of his before bringing them up to his face, lips pressed against your knuckles. It’s not a kiss, more so a desperate need to feel you against him. Eyes wide, you can’t do anything but watch as that collected exterior slips away, revealing a whirlwind mess of emotions. It’s a rather unexpected show from Jungkook. “It was a joke. We were joking. But I’m—“ his jaw clenches. His voice is so tiny when he speaks again. “I get scared sometimes, __.”

His emotional outburst renders you speechless, watching as he squeezes his eyes shut, jaw clenching, hands trembling.

It’s a stark image change from the cool Jungkook that had comforted you at the river, had patted the back of your head when you had been so distraught. His chest heaves for air and you don’t know what to do; it’s always the other way around, him comforting you, that when it comes down to this you find yourself at a loss. It makes you feel like you don’t know enough about yourself or him or your relationship in general to help him, always so lost when things like this happen.

Jungkook has never been good at expressing negative emotions, always preferring to bottle them up and only show you his very best side. Granted, he’s been getting better at letting go lately, has whispered his doubts to you in the dead of night after a particularly grueling project, an uncomfortable social meeting. But he always waits until you’re half asleep and in the dark to tell you how he feels, hushed worries that you barely remember the next morning. And by then, Jungkook’s moved on from them anyway, flashes you a pretty smile and purposefully guides you away from that conversation. You know he’s started keeping a journal recently, but aside from seeing the blanks pages when he’d first gotten, you don’t have a clue what happened afterwards. It’s probably hidden away somewhere, his feelings locked up in a cupboard or a box, the secrets it holds never to be spoken of aloud.

He doesn’t like talking about his more personal problems, hoards them until you’re forced to intervene. Find him slumped over at his dining table with bags under his eyes, the skin on his lower lip bitten beyond belief.

Rarely does he sit down and express himself like this, lays his heart out carefully for you to see. Had he not said so right now, you would have never known Jungkook struggled with such doubts about you and your relationship.

(It makes your heart ache at the realization.)

Jungkook always acts like everything is okay, always forces himself to hold it together for the sake of you and, quite frankly, everyone else. He’s there when Taehyung breaks up with his girlfriends, pats him on the back and lets him run through every video game he has on his PS5. He’s there for Namjoon when his thesis becomes too much, proofreads it even though he doesn’t understand a word just for the sake of giving his best friend another perspective. Hell, he had even been there for Doyeon when her new landlord had tried to overcharge her, had carried the bulk of your argument when you ran off to try and fight with the old man.

(“He’s too nice sometimes,” she had murmured the next morning at her place. After the shouting match the night before, you had crashed with Doyeon on her new bed, your sweet boyfriend taking up her couch. Somehow, you and Jungkook had managed to knock a clean seventy-five bucks off her monthly bill. It wasn’t much, but for an apartment in the city it sure felt like a lot.

You had hummed, patting the top of his head on the way to the kitchen. “He’s a good boy,” you had said, heart thrumming when he instinctively pushed closer to your hand, nuzzling into you even in his sleep. “He cares about everyone a lot. Worries to death about his friends.”

The state of their relationship was weird; they were always fighting about one thing or another, ‘eternal enemies’ as Doyeon liked to claim.

But for the first time, she hadn’t denied they were, in fact, friends. Instead, she had quietly stood at the breakfast nook overlooking the living room with a somber look on her face that was completely unlike the Doyeon you knew. She didn’t respond with her usual backhanded compliments, didn’t even call him a gremlin either.

“He even worries about you, Miss Wicked Witch of the West,” you had teased, reaching over to pull Jungkook’s shirt down where it had ridden up, exposing his cute belly button to the cold apartment. She had sipped at her mug of coffee, eyes foggy and distant. “It just takes him a while.”

“He’s always cared about you though,” she had murmured then, and you had marked it off as her being half asleep. But Doyeon had given you this look, a look so profoundly wise, as if she was saying, “more than you’ll ever know.”)

Most importantly, Jungkook is always there for you. He holds you in his arms, strokes your back comfortingly whenever something goes wrong. Listens to your concerns and offers you advice, learns new things for the sole purpose of helping you out. Lets you make stupid decisions and always saves you at the last minute. And you want to repay him for all that, want to look after Jungkook like he does for everyone else. But it’s hard, it’s so fucking hard, when he doesn’t let you in, when he holds his emotions at bay for the sake of protecting yours. When you don’t even know where to start sometimes.

The beating of your heart is accompanied by a dramatic orchestral ensemble on screen, violins and flutes as the two lovers reconcile some issue with a kiss. Beside you, your own lover is one second away from falling apart. “Hey,” you say quietly, slipping your hand out of his to hesitantly place on his back instead. With your release, Jungkook uses his empty hands to drag over his face, hide himself from you. “I’m not going to leave you, Jungkook,” you try and comfort, “I love you.”

He shakes his head, dark locks bouncing around. “I know, I know,” he sighs, but it doesn’t sound like he believes you. It sounds like he’s forcing himself into composure again, jaw flexing as he shakes his head. “But— what if—” another aggravated huff, his thighs jumping anxiously. “You’ll get bored.” Not a question, but a statement.

“Of you?” you ask anyway. He nods. “I won’t.”

He sits up so suddenly you have to move away to avoid bumping into him. “You will,” he urges, finally looking at you, distress painted over every inch of his face. “That guy, that Seokjin, he sounds more interesting than me. He sounds cool and put together, like the world is his oyster and,” he rubs the heels of his hands against his eyes. “You talk about him sometimes and... and you call him a god, __,” he stresses, doesn’t leave room for you to object. “And I know you’re joking, but—“ a sharp inhale, and then, quietly, “everyone gets bored of me, __.”

Your frown deepens. “But I won’t,” you argue, confident in your claim, shifting onto your knees beside him. Your dress is thrown over the armrest of the couch, and the draft in your apartment makes goosebumps rise on your bare flesh. “You’re not boring, Jungkook,” you tell him, voice softening when his features pinch up, nose wrinkling as he wards off the stinging behind his eyes.

It’s teenage trauma. Jungkook had told you at least that much before, this crippling sense of loneliness and an inferiority complex that hindered him during an influential growth period of his life. It’s why he’s so quiet when he has so much to say, why he brings you along to every party he gets invited to; he’s never felt like he was enough by himself.

Sometimes, it leaks into his confessions. “I don’t deserve you,” he says frequently, but some days you want to hot glue him to a chair and force him to listen to every reason why he does and always will deserve you or anyone for that matter. “You make me better,” he claims, but he does that all on his own, lights up the world with his smile alone.

He’s gotten better, that much you’ve learned from Namjoon and Taehyung. And even you’ve noticed it on your own, watched as he animatedly talked with his friends and his coworkers, drew people naturally to him with his warm aura.

Even still, there’s moments where he relapses. Moments like this.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs beside you, “I know I’m a handful—“

“You’re not,” you interrupt, cupping his soft cheek in your hand, turning him to face you. Jungkook leans into the touch, and your heart breaks in half when a tear escapes over his waterline, pretty eyes brimming with tears. “You’re not a handful, Jungkook,” you tell him, shuffling closer until you can press your forehead against his. The truth is, you don’t know how to comfort him, but this is how he’s always comforted you; it feels nice when he does it for you. “You’re just enough,” you say, voice soft because it feels like your precious boy is about to fall apart in your arms, his shallow breaths rivaling the volume of the television. “You’ve always been enough.”

He sniffles, and another tear tickles the side of your thumb, catching the light. “I’m sorry,” he repeats anyway, a disbelieving chuckle tacked on at the end.

“Don’t be,” you shush, pushing away a strand of hair when he leans closer. His frown is still prominent, pink lips red and soft under your thumb when you tap your finger against them. “You can tell me when things worry you, you know,” you inform him, heart swelling when his eyes fall shut and he leans into your touch. He’s so handsome, the cute little mole beneath his lip begging to be kissed. “I’ll always listen.”

Jungkook hums, breathing evening out. “I know you will,” he says. “But I like listening to your voice more, and I can’t do that when I’m talking.”

You snort and Jungkook finally lets a tiny smile slip. “Don’t flirt with me so soon after your meltdown,” you mumble, kissing his cheek softly.

Jungkook chuckles, real this time, and sniffles right afterwards. “I’ll flirt with you whenever I want.” And, because he’s just so full of surprises tonight, he sniffles once more before he’s unceremoniously tackling you back onto the couch. You squeal, the TV remote digging into your back painfully. It has the volume accidentally skyrocketing, startling the both of you with an ear-shattering orchestral piece at the height of some emotional scene. Jungkook scrambles to free the device and lower the volume before your eardrums burst. “I didn’t even know your TV could go that loud,” he says, and he’s speaking normally but the deafening violins are still reverberating in your head, making him sound quieter than he really is.

“Come here,” you say instead, and he obeys, crawling into your arms, mouth hovering just over yours. “You feeling better?”

Jungkook nods, dark hair bouncing. “You make me better,” he tries, but after tonight’s realization, you respond to his corny words with a pinch against his doughy cheek instead.

“Don’t say that,” you frown, toying with one of the earrings decorating his ear. The tip of his nose is flushed red, the exertion from crying catching up to him. His lashes are dark, probably feel so heavy with the residual tears that cling to them.

Jungkook repositions himself, guides your legs around his waist. “Why not? It’s true.” He glances at your mouth. “You make my life better.”

“Wrong,” you say bluntly, brushing his hair back with your hands. “Your own perception and understanding of your experiences makes your life better. I just happen to be in it.” Jungkook looks the tiniest bit surprised at your suddenly logical argument. “Trust me, I saw it in a documentary the other day.”

At that he laughs, full and loud, pecking your lips once with a sweet smile on his face. “Now I know you’re lying,” he grins, gently nudging his nose against yours. The drama on the TV is but a quiet hum compared to the pounding of your heart in your chest when he looks at you like that. “Because you don’t even like documentaries.”

You kiss him softly, holding his hair back for him. He tastes a little bit like the chocolate cake he had at the restaurant and the lemonade he drank (he didn’t indulge in the sweet wine with you because he needed to drive). His lips mold perfectly against yours, and he sighs softly when he finally draws back. “But I like you,” you purr.

Jungkook’s eyes darken, one heavy exhale fanning across the lower half of your face. You readjust the leg around his waist, pull him closer just the slightest bit. “Don’t flirt with me so soon after my meltdown,” he repeats, lips brushing against yours. You chuckle. “You don’t know what that means to me.” You can roughly guess, but that opportunity is taken away when Jungkook slots his mouth against yours, soft lips molding to yours. His tongue swipes across your bottom lip, wastes no time slipping in when you open for him, hot and wet.

Jungkook’s fingers are just as warm when he trails them up the back of your thigh, pulls you impossibly closer until the buckle on his belt is pressed flush against your mound. A tiny whimper escapes your lips, chest jumping just the slightest from the pressure. It makes Jungkook pull away with an easygoing grin, chocolate eyes half-lidded. “You okay?” he murmurs, breath a little shaky from the kiss. You nod, tangling your fingers behind his head and pulling him in close again.

He evades your puckered lips, ducking down to press his own against your throat, right beneath your jaw. “Ugh,” you groan, digging your nails into his back through his satin shirt. “I wanted a kiss.”

Jungkook nips at your skin, this tiny gesture that couldn’t hurt even if he tried. “You always want a kiss,” he retorts softly, the quiet smack of his lips filling your ears as he bestows a series of smooches against your skin. And it’s so devastatingly tender how he handles you, like you’re made of glass and will break at a moment’s notice, like he wants to treasure your body for the rest of his—

Jungkook chomps down, hard, and you hiss. “Sit still,” he orders, soothing over the bite with one broad lick of his tongue.

You whimper. “That hurt.”

“And it’ll hurt even more if you keep moving,” he warns you, and before you can ask what that even means, he’s leaving another stinging bite just further down. It’s at the midway point of your neck, right in front, and you can feel your heartbeat in your throat when he sucks a painful mark over it. “There,” he says, mostly to himself. “All mine.”

Your legs tighten around him, and you fight down the wave of heat that threatens to consume you when he places one final kiss over the second mark— the hickey.

Jungkook doesn’t usually leave them. In fact, you can rarely recall a time where he had purposefully gone out of his way to mark you up like this. It was always accidental, always unplanned, because he knew how troublesome it was for you to cover them up for work the next morning. Work, where your coworkers and your bosses and Seokjin could see.

Brows pinched together, your brain begins to draw a connection, one that Jungkook is soon confirming himself. “Everyone will see that now,” he hums, kissing a trail down your neck.

Of course.

You pat the back of his head in amusement, hiding a smile against his soft locks. Before you can say anything more, maybe tease him for being so cute, there’s a hand on your hip that snaps you out of your scheming. Jungkook lifts his head, does that endearing little head shake that pushes his hair out of his eyes, before leaning in for another languid kiss.

It’s even slower than the first, mostly because he’s a little too preoccupied with running his hands over your body now. It starts at your shoulder, teasingly snaps the strap of your bra as you push your tongue down his throat. Jungkook whimpers, that pretty sound that makes you desperate to hear more. It’s the same sound that he always makes when he wants to be pampered, wants you to kiss his entire body while he lays there and takes it.

And you’re all too ready to act on it.

Duty calls and you’re there to answer, tilting his head for him with your hands against his cheeks. He sighs against you, breath trembling as it tickles across your skin. That soft and tender way that makes you melt because he’s just so precious, so dreamy.

But you’re too caught up in your plotting to remember the hand he’s got on your hip, the one that teases the waistband of your panties with one lone finger. It’s only when Jungkook pulls away from your inviting mouth, his other hand holding you down by your shoulder, that you’re snapped back into reality. His lips are swollen and red, slick from your tongue, and so tantalizingly kissable. He huffs out a breath, eyes flickering over your face. “Can I touch you,” he husks, and gives into the temptation to press a kiss against your jaw.

“Yes, please,” you shiver, hypnotized by his hungry stare.

Jungkook wastes no time, pressing another kiss against the bruising mark over your throat that dissolves into a series of lighter smooches he trails down between your breasts. His hands come up to cup your boobs over your bra, giving them one harsh squeeze that has you releasing a long exhale as he moves between the valley and down your tummy, over your belly button. “Open,” he says at your pubic bone, carefully guiding your legs apart until you’re spread wide for him.

The dark panties you’re wearing tonight— the super expensive ones you had spent an hour measuring your body for the exact sizing —receive one light kiss over the front. “Always so pretty for me,” Jungkook murmurs, tracing one lone finger down the middle. Your stomach contracts when he nudges it against you, the soft material of your panties just barely pushed between your folds.

As his hand occupies itself with some relatively light foreplay, Jungkook tasks himself with leaving another tingling mark against your skin. This time, it’s on the inside of your thigh. He starts it off slowly, a few littered kisses against the skin until he deems one spot worthy enough and abruptly sinks his teeth into you. “Not so hard,” you whimper, reaching down to bury your hands in his hair.

Jungkook lets it go, sloppily licking over the area. “You like it hard,” he husks, meeting your gaze as he licks one, long stripe over the tender skin. “Don’t you?” You nod demurely, pressing your knuckles against your lips to hold back a tiny moan from slipping past your lips.

With that new mark blooming over your skin, Jungkook transfers his attention to your pussy, hidden beneath the soft material of your panties. One finger hooks under the hem, tucking them aside until he can see you in your entirety. “Fuck,” he groans, pressing one light kiss over your clit that makes you inhale sharply, fingers digging into his scalp. Jungkook throws one final glance your way before letting his tongue slip past his lips, the very tip flicking against your clit.

Your breathing becomes shallow, anticipation building in the pits of your stomach as he slowly but surely begins playing with you. His tongue is so warm and wet, nudges your throbbing clit, nose pressed against your mound. “Mmm,” he moans, eyes fluttering shut as his mouth works wonders.

“Ah,” you gasp, whiny and high-pitched, when he dips one finger past your wet folds. The entry is seamless, his pointer finger sinking into the velvet walls of your cunt as his tongue swirls against your hardened bud. “Jungkook,” you mewl, knocking your heel against his shoulder. Jungkook huffs, suctions his lips around your clit. The cold metal of the rings he always wears— the duo set from that Chrome Hearts brand he likes so much —presses against the trembling lips of your pussy, makes your back arch when he twists his finger inside of you.

He’s so precise with his tongue, knows just how long and how hard to lick against your pulsing clit until you’re trembling, thighs quivering. Briefly, he pulls away, flicks his hair to the side in one suave motion that lets you see his dark eyes when he glances back up at you again, covered in a thick sheen of lust that makes them appear almost black as opposed to his usual warm brown. His hands reach for the waistband of your panties, tug them off with one fluid pull.

“So pretty for me,” he murmurs, the end of his words laced with a slight rasp that makes your hips jump. “All for me,” he says, roughly pushing his finger into you again. The harshness makes your entire body tighten up in surprise, eyes fluttering shut when he slips his middle finger alongside his pointer this time around.

“Baby, wait,” you whimper, walls fluttering around the two digits. Jungkook leans back in, presses a chaste kiss against your clit that makes your breathing stall as he thrusts his fingers into you.

He ignores your cries, locks his lips at the juncture where your thigh meets your body, sensitive skin that bruises all too easily when he sucks against it too hard. “Only for me,” he sighs, all pretenses discarded as he begins rapidly and roughly fucking his fingers into you. It’s intense, has your thighs quaking as he speeds them up.

The coil in your stomach tightens, and you have to bite down on your knuckles to stop the litany of whimpers from slipping past your lips when Jungkook ducks down again. He bypasses your quivering clit, warm tongue licking at the warm, wet folds around his fingers instead. The proximity makes the tip of his round nose brush along the length of your cunt, a sight and sensation that makes you moan, his bangs harshly tugged away from his forehead to give you the perfect view.

It’s with a particularly hard shove and twist combination of his fingers into your clenching walls that you cum, a gasp caught in your throat as your hips push toward him, chasing the feeling Jungkook bestows upon you. Your breathing is a mess, inhales too short, your exhales inconsistent, as Jungkook slows the speed of his fingers inside of you, lets your cum ooze out around them, coat his fingers and his rings.

“No,” you cry, watching that look come over his face when he withdraws his hand, the look that usually follows him sucking your cum into his mouth. “Jungkook, you don’t have to do that—” you whine, reaching for his wrist and yanking it towards you.

Jungkook follows, crawls back up beside you as he chases his own sticky fingers. “It’s mine,” he urges, has this weird look in his eyes you don’t think you’ve ever seen before. And just as quickly as it crosses his features, he’s lurching forward to catch his own fingers in his mouth. It’s lewd, the way his tongue wraps around them, leaves them sleek under the TV glow, tattoos and rings glistening. He has the audacity to moan, eyes fluttering shut as his devious tongue slips down between his fingers, so long and precise. There’s a tiny noise that tears itself from your throat, one that has him flickering his clouded gaze up to you as his fingers are released from between his own lips. “You like that,” he murmurs, wet fingers trailing down your cheek, capturing your chin to turn your face his way completely.

His tongue is sinful as it slips past your lips again, the tangy taste of yourself clinging to him. His breathing feels hot, suffocating. But his kisses are so good, make your mind go blank. So blank, that the fingers that rub at your clit surprise you completely. “Kook,” you gasp, breaking away from him in surprise.

Jungkook doesn’t let you get far, capturing your mouth with his again. The two fingers you had felt on your chin are gone, firmly pressed against your swollen clit, experimentally rubbing against it. Never mind the fact you were still sensitive from your first orgasm, thighs quivering when he drags them against the wet, soft skin. It makes you shudder, breaking away from him a second time for a desperately needed inhale of fresh air. Jungkook follows behind closely, pressing kisses over your jawline, your chin, as his fingers continue moving against your clit.

He has them pressed together, rubbing at the front of your slit where that bundle of nerves is hidden. It makes your stomach contract, hips jerking forward into the touch in an effort to match him, to speed up the process. “You were made for me, pretty girl,” Jungkook huffs against your cheek, nose pressed against your skin because he’s just so close, practically molded into your side as his fingers send rhythmic shocks of ecstasy up your spine.

Your mouth drops open, stuttered gasps filtering through your lips as Jungkook takes advantage of your sensitive body to draw out another orgasm. But there’s a weird sensation that builds in your stomach this time, one that brings with it a sense of panic. “Wait—“ you gasp, fisting the silky material of his shirt beneath one clenched fist. “Jungkook,” you warn, toes curling.

He responds with a harsh nip against your lower lip that makes you whimper. “Go ahead,” he purrs, rubbing his fingers over you at an insane speed, one that has your juices sloppily spread over your pussy, makes you buck into him and moan against his mouth.

The feeling grows, an intense, unfamiliar thing that you rarely recall ever feeling before, gasping for air as Jungkook’s fingers caress your clit, pressing down hard. “Fffuck, fuck,” you sob, mouth opening in a silent scream, eyes rolling backwards as you feel your pussy lips contract harder than ever before, thighs quivering as your juices squirt out of you, lower body reduced to jello as Jungkook quickens his movements, wrists jerking back and forth as your pleasure sprays out of you. “Ju— Jungkook,” you wail, forcefully slamming your thighs shut when he doesn’t stop, the pleasure seemingly never-ending under such a torturous touch. “Stop—stop,” you beg, eyes filling with tears that spill over when his trapped hand manages one final rough rub against your clit accompanied by a final gush of wetness.

Only then does he stop, leaning back on his knees to drink you in with dark eyes that make you quiver. There’s no trace of his usual post-orgasm cockiness, the smile he’ll flash you, the teasing jabs. Nothing, just a frankly terrifying gaze that has you self-consciously pressing your hands over your chest.

Jungkook doesn’t take kindly to it, roughly snatching one of your wrists up until you’re sitting up, the traces of your own orgasm present in the damp couch cushions beneath you, inner thighs coated in a thin sheen of your own pleasure. Jungkook leans in close, nose bumping against yours. “You came like that for me,” he says quietly, chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. You nod, eyes wide and teary when he reaches for the front of his shirt, giving it the same treatment he usually gives yours; two hands at the front, yanking it apart until the buttons are torn from their stitches and bouncing across your floor.

He throws it off to the side, his tan skin highlighted by the cool tones of the television, the dark sleeve of his tattoo especially prominent. The black ink almost looks blue under this light. You’re so distracted by the perfect swirls and doodles on Jungkook’s skin that you don’t realize that same hand is reaching for you until it’s too late, long fingers wrapping around your throat to jerk you forward, head tipping back to look up at him. “Say it, sweet girl,” he murmurs, eyes half-lidded. “Tell me you’re mine.”

The fingers around your throat squeeze once and then slowly begin tightening. You gasp, meeting his hooded gaze with yours, lips quivering for a response that’s stuck in your throat, trapped by your own surprise and tightening airways. Frantically, you reach for his wrists with both hands, not to pull Jungkook’s hand away, but to ground yourself from the hazy cloud of lust the moment evokes.

Still, your body isn’t as strong as you thought, and once Jungkook reaches a certain tightness around your throat you find yourself coughing. Instantly, he loosens his grip. But not too much. “I- I’m yours,” you rasp out, gasping for air.

For now, it satisfies Jungkook enough for him to release you. And while you’re grateful for the rush of fresh air that fills your lungs, the phantom ghost of his grip around your throat sends a new gush of wetness between your thighs. One that grows tenfold when Jungkook reaches for his belt, undoes it easily. It comes off with one fluid motion, carelessly shucked off to the side as his attention moves to the front of his pants instead.

He doesn’t let you sit around uselessly. “On your knees,” he says, so quietly you almost don’t hear it. “Sit on your knees facing the table.”

You blink slowly, the dry tears on your cheeks leaving stiff trails against your makeup. It takes a moment for your brain to process his request, one long second that has Jungkook pausing in his movements, leveling you with one solemn glare that eventually has you springing into action. You hastily slip off the couch, shuffling toward the coffee table between it and the television. The rug is soft beneath your knees, a luxury you can’t enjoy to the fullest because there’s a ball of excitement and fear stuck in your throat. (Right beneath your bruised skin and recuperating windpipes.) Sitting back on your calves, it feels like every nerve is standing stiff as you await his instructions.

“Bra off,” Jungkook says from behind you, and you’re startled by the sudden ripping of stitches behind you, almost turning to look at him. He stops you with one hand around the back of your neck, drawing a surprised gasp from you. “Sit still,” he commands, your back stiff straight, eyes focused on the screen. After a beat, Jungkook lets you go, pats the back of your head gingerly. “Good girl.”

A whimper catches in your throat at the praise, and you barely manage to bite down on it in time, hurriedly reaching behind you. Your hands fidget over the clasps on your bra, and you nearly jump out of your skin when one lone finger traces down your spine, undoing your bra for you. You don’t know why, but you say, “thank you.”

The television changes scenes in front of you, the bright colors a stark contrast to the darkness of Jungkook’s eyes. Your hands tremble in front of you, fingers anxiously tangling with each other. A few inches beside you, there’s a dark red box filled with the flowers from—

Suddenly, your vision goes dark, hands instinctively reaching up to your eyes. The pads of your fingers come in contact with a soft material, smooth and silky. Just like— “Is this… ?” you murmur, hands sliding across the makeshift blindfold Jungkook’s made for you, the same texture as his shirt had been.

He doesn’t grace you with an answer, just a hand against your hip as he, presumably, settles behind you. “Does it matter?” Jungkook says instead, voice all too close to your ear. Your entire body locks up, hands quickly returning to their spot against the coffee table.

Just as you’d suspected, Jungkook is all too close now, hands crawling over your body. They start at your waist, massage the skin tenderly, lovingly, before gliding up to cup your breasts. You shiver, a quiet exhale escaping you as Jungkook rubs his palms over your boobs, trapping your stiff nipples between his fingers. A sound threatens to escape you, and you trap it behind a bitten lip, fists clenched against the table before you. “You know,” Jungkook says conversationally, like he’s not pinching your nipples enough to make you squirm. “Who else do you think can make you come like this?”

You brain lags. “W- What?” you stutter, thighs pressing together to ward away the arousal. Not like they’re already sticky from before, from when Jungkook had made you squirt.

Jungkook doesn’t miss a beat, pressing a kiss against your shoulder that he trails up to your ear, nibbling at your earlobe. “Who else,” he says slowly, “can make you come like this?”

It’s not a trick question— no one could. You tell Jungkook as much. “I— no one,” you answer, rolling your lips in when he kisses the tender spot beneath your ear again.

His kisses feel loud, but not as loud as his voice when he says, “exactly.” You swallow, gripping at the edge of the coffee table when he releases your boobs, trails one hand between your thighs, the other around your throat to pull you backwards against his chest. It makes your hands flail, landing against the tops of his thick thighs.

Jungkook holds you close, fingers tightening around your throat teasingly. “No one else can please you like you want,” he exhales, letting his fingers trail over your skin. “Not the guy on tv, not your exes, not the fucking loser at your job,” he hisses, lips against your ear. “No one,” he reiterates, voice softer now as he presses a kiss against you. “No one but me.”

And it’s true.

You can’t even muster your usual mouthy, bratty attitude when Jungkook serves you cold hard facts like this. Not when you can feel his aching member press against the small of your back, rest perfectly in the slight dip between your ass cheeks. “Isn’t that right, sweet girl?” he murmurs, voice low.

You nod, tummy tightening when he uses the hand between your thighs to spread them apart. “Only you,” you agree, voice feathery.

Jungkook hides a grin against your skin, a mean chuckle escaping him when he rests his forehead against your shoulder. “Fuck,” he says, releasing your throat. “Such a good girl,” he praises, hands on your hips again. He uses them to encourage you up onto your knees, hips bumping into the edge of the table as he shuffles you forward. “Bend,” he says quietly, palm flat on the center of your back, pushing you down until your belly button is pressed against the cold wood, boobs swinging forward just the slightest. “Perfect.”

Jungkook shuffles up behind you, soothes a hand over your hip when you flinch at the first press of his cock against your folds. “You’re okay,” he comforts, voice like honey as he lines himself up. Your folds are slippery and wet, loose from your arousal and the two orgasms he’s already given you.

Despite all that, the first push of his engorged cock past the tight muscles makes you gasp. “Baby, that’s,” you moan, nails scratching against the coffee table to make a sound that you would otherwise find uncomfortable. “I—“

Jungkook pants behind you, cock sinking further and further in. “I’ve got you,” he husks. His voice is like the light at the end of the tunnel, your dark vision forcing you to rely on him entirely as he guides you through the motions. “Made for me,” he repeats, voice airy.

You nod jerkily, arms trembling as his cock plunges deeper inside of you. “Made for you,” you gasp, head falling forward, forehead pressed against the cold surface in front of you.

He moans, and there’s one deafening moment of silence when he finally reaches the hilt, soft pubic hairs at the base of his cock brushing against your folds. It’s a familiar sensation, having him buried inside of you, but it’s always different when he’s doing it from behind. He always feels fuller, bigger, mushroom tip practically kissing your cervix.

“Kook,” you whimper, walls unintentionally contracting around him when he lingers a second too long. “Move.”

“Fuck, fuck,” he curses behind you. “I know, it’s just—“ he pauses, squeezes your hip so hard, you’re certain it’ll bruise. “I wanna… y’know,” he groans, dropping his head against your back, warm breath fanning across your slightly sweaty skin.

It makes something in your stomach click into place, shifting back just the slightest. The small drag around your lips makes you brave. “Then do it,” you urge, desperate for any sort of friction.

Jungkook practically growls, bucking into you once. “No,” he says, like he’s battling with himself, faced with a mental hurdle he can only cross alone. “You don’t understand,” he sneers, suddenly snapping back into position behind you, pulling you flush against his pelvis once more. It makes you whimper.

“I kinda do—“

“You don’t,” Jungkook hisses, forcefully thrusting his hips into you enough to make your hips knock painfully against the edge of the coffee table, a startled moan falling from between your lips. And from there, it’s like you’ve unleashed a beast, because Jungkook shows you no mercy as he begins fucking you, his fat cock slipping in and out of you, his angry head flirting with your entrance. “I wanna fucking breed you,” he sneers, fingers digging into the skin around your waist to hold you still as he bucks his hips forward.

His vulgarity makes your skin heat up, the warmth probably tangible over your sloppily made blindfold, eyes wide despite the fabric that covers them. “That—” you gasp, thighs trembling with each powerful thrust.

“It’s too much, I fucking know,” he huffs dryly, releasing one hip to press against your shoulders, roughly shoving you forward until your breasts are pressed against the surface, arms bent up beside you to stop yourself from hitting your head. “But— But,” he shudders, suddenly stopping his thrusts to grind his cock against you instead, pussy lips quivering around his girthy member. “I wanna,” he pants, “wanna see you so fucking full of me, because— you’re mine, __,” he seethes, “right?”

You nod blindly, dumbly, brain too flooded with the stimulation he’s bestowing upon you to think properly. “I- I am,” you confirm, gasping for air. “And you’re mine,” you manage to get out, one hand slapping down against the coffee table when he draws his cock out, slams himself back into you quickly.

“I’m yours,” Jungkook slurs behind you, slowly picking up his pace again. The hand on your back lets go, and it’s with trembling arms that you manage to push yourself back onto your forearms, one hand blindly reaching for the hand he’s got gripping at your hips.

“Oh my god,” you whimper, the sounds coming from your connected bodies so lewd and obscene, disgustingly wet when Jungkook slips back inside. He surges forward again, and you try to catch your balance, knees quivering underneath the force of his thrusts. Your hand slides over the tabletop in a feeble effort to hold onto something, anything. You can’t see, and even if you could there’s not much to hold onto on a flat surface.

Except the box your hand knocks into. Your confusion lasts for only about a second because then Jungkook is ramming his cock into you, over and over, until you’re certain your hips are going to bruise and your knees are going to give out. Jungkook’s moans are soft and feathery, sighs that fan over your shoulder and make your back arch, eyes rolling backwards for the briefest second as if you were possessed.

“Mine,” he whimpers, desperate and needy, fingernails digging into your skin as he pushes on. “Gonna be mine forever,” he growls. “Gonna— Gonna be so pretty and big,” he moans, “tits so fucking full.” The image he puts in your mind makes you dizzy.

You nod dumbly, knuckles bumping against the box a second time. “Jungkook,” you choke out, fingers blindly nudging the box aside. But there’s no strength behind it, your entire body feeling weak and useless, all the energy concentrated in the coil in your stomach, the one that grows and tightens with every entrance of Jungkook’s cock into your pulsing walls. “There’s— There’s something,” you gasp, pinky finger tapping against it.

Behind you, Jungkook stills, harsh breaths deafeningly loud. Louder than the television and the corny music that plays, the mindless chatter of the characters you couldn’t name even if you tried. “Why would you...” Jungkook huffs, irritation lacing his words.

You don’t get to question it, because a second later his finger is tucking itself beneath your blindfold, yanking it off carelessly. It makes your head crane backwards, a tiny yelp torn from your lips as the blinding glow of the TV attacks your poor eyes at full force. Jungkook’s long since stopped his rapid thrusts, and it’s only when you glance off to the side that you realize why.

It’s the stupid box of flowers Seokjin had sent you, the one Jungkook had placed on the coffee table when you first got home.

Behind you, Jungkook releases one long exhale, both of you looking at the arrangement with various degrees of discomfort. “Did you like them,” he murmurs, cock throbbing inside of you.

You shake your head, a soft, “no,” falling from your lips. The muscles in your thighs quiver like mad.

Jungkook says nothing, but you watch as one inked arm stretches out from behind you, the movement of his hips pushing his cock deeper into you. A tiny whimper catches in your throat, watching as Jungkook hooks a finger over the lip of the box. One swift tug has it gliding over the tabletop, coming to a stop right beside your forearm. Jungkook leans back, the silence terrifying.

“Did you think they were pretty?” he asks, tracing one finger down your spine. Your lower lip trembles as your eyes scan over the bouquet, at the pretty color selection and lovely scent that joined together to overwhelm your senses.

“No,” you say, but it feels like a lie.

And Jungkook thinks so too, wrapping one hand around your throat and pulling you back forcefully. It’s the same as he did earlier, but with his cock deep inside your pussy, it sends a shock throughout your entire nervous system, a sob tearing itself from within you as he unintentionally pushes himself deeper inside. “Did you,” he says a second time, practically seething, “think Seokjin’s flowers were pretty?”

Your eyes flicker nervously across the screen in front of you, but everything is a blur, Jungkook’s harsh breathing against your ear. “Yes,” you confess, whimpering when his fingers tighten around your throat, press down against your windpipe as he inhales sharply. “But they’re just flow—“ He squeezes your throat so hard, your eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets, mind growing fuzzy. Eventually, he lets go and you dissolve into a fit of coughs, bent over the coffee table again as Jungkook slips his stiff cock out from within you. “I’m sorry,” you sniffle, throwing a teary-eyed look over your shoulder.

What you’re not expecting is for Jungkook to grab that same shoulder and roughly push you onto your side away from the coffee table, falling onto the fluffy rug as he shoves you down. “Something pretty for a pretty girl,” he sneers, biting down a frankly maniacal grin.

“What?” you exhale, probably looking at him with the same maniacal look in your eyes.

(You were made for each other, so crazy and in love.)

Jungkook stretches one toned arm out, and you flinch when he uses that same beautiful arm to send the box of flowers flying over the edge of the coffee table, a hard thwack resounding throughout the room when they land face down on the other side, petals against the floor, water dripping out from inside.

With those out of the way, Jungkook wastes no time flipping you over, face shoved down against the soft rug as he angles your hips up. “Thinking about someone else when I’m right here,” he growls, ramming his cock back into you with no warning. You sob, clawing at nothing as he bucks forward. “What a mean girl,” Jungkook scolds.

“I- I wasn’t,” you defend weakly, shivering as he snaps his hips against you, the rug irritating your cheek when the motion sends you forward. Jungkook uses the hands on your hips to pull you back, your skin clapping together loudly.

“You think Seokjin would— would fuck you like this?” he spits, using you like a toy as he fucks basically for himself, cock sliding in and out of your squelching walls. “You think he’d push you down and—and call you a stupid girl?”

You shake your head, eyes squeezed shut to fight the wave of tears threatening your waterline. Truthfully, it doesn’t make much of a difference, especially not when Jungkook yanks your hips back again, your entrance sensitive from all the friction. “No, no,” you sob. ”He wouldn't.”

Jungkook scoffs, not bothering to slow his pace down. “Of course he wouldn’t,” he spits, and then, strikes your ass. Two hard cracks of his palm, rings and all, against the globes of your ass. You wail, unconsciously jerking away only for Jungkook to drag you back. “Stupid girl,” Jungkook sighs, cock twitching inside of you. You can feel the beads of precum oozing out from the tip of his cock inside you, their warmth making you shudder.

Your other ass cheek receives the same treatment, two harsh smacks that leave the skin tingling, blood rising to the surface. “Stupid, stupid girl,” he repeats, palms rubbing over your cheeks for a brief second, only to strike down again. “Aren’t you?” You nod, fat tears dripping out of the corner of your eyes and down onto the fluffy rug beneath you. Your behind stings, pain blossoming over your skin. But it’s the good kind, the one that has drool escaping from the corner of your lips from how overwhelmed it leaves you.

“I- I’m a stupid girl,” you agree, your words punctuated by a series of tiny sobs and sniffles. Your walls feel sensitive, raw, from his thrusts. You’re ready to come, trembling hands slithering down to reach for your clit.

“Don’t,” Jungkook warns, snatching your arm up and twisting it behind you.

You cry, tears and drool against the rug. “I wanna come,” you whimper, trying your other hand only for it to meet a similar demise. “Please,” you sniffle, turning your face the other way as if the angle will somehow be different.

“You don’t come until I say so,” Jungkook hisses, using his grip on your wrists to tug you onto his cock. You moan, choke on your own saliva from the force, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix for real this time. It renders you stupid, just like Jungkook had called you, chin trembling as your eyes roll backwards. Behind you, Jungkook grunts something deep and raspy. “Fffuck,” he spits, pistoning his hips into your inviting heat. “You were doing so good tonight—“ a particular brutal buck of his hips, a loud moan torn from your lips “—but first those fucking flowers and now this?”

The rhythm of his deep thrusts cut your moans into stuttered little cries, your words broken with every ram of his cock inside of you. Your walls feel worn, every brush sending a tingling shock up your spine. “I- I’m sorry,” you weep, shoulders shaking from your own tears and the rumbling orgasm that’s just about ready to snap.

Jungkook says nothing, too busy shoving his cock inside of you to grace you with a response. Instead, you’re subjected to his relentless thrusts, sharp gasps from his pretty mouth. “Fuck,” he pants, releasing your wrists after one particular thrusts, your walls clenching around him painfully when he draws his cock out.

“I can’t,” you sniffle, knees giving out before he can catch you, sadly sinking down onto the plush rug. “Kook, I—”

Jungkook makes a sound, something between a growl and a roar in the back of his throat as he follows behind you, planting two firm hands on the sides of your head to use as leverage to fuck himself in. With your thighs pressed flat together, the squeeze is tighter than ever before, and your eyes roll backwards as he gets to work, walls fluttering from the overstimulation.

“I’ve got you, sweetheart,” he pants, all games thrown aside as he begins pounding his cock past your folds, deep into your contracting walls, until that tight spring in your stomach gives out and you’re clenching up beneath him, entire body going stiff for one long beat.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you weep, thighs quivering as you cream his cock, make his movements so slippery and wet, almost dangerous when he’s going this fast. His name falls from your trembling lips, every nickname and pet name you’ve ever given him mindlessly blubbered through your orgasm. Jungkook pays you no mind, thighs tensing up as he chases his high, short breaths and moans filling the space as he fucks himself into you. Until, finally, a few deep strokes later, he’s coming with a shuddered cry of your name on his tongue, collapsing over you, forehead pressed to your back as he catches his breath.

“Fuck,” he groans one last time, body going slack very quickly. He slumps down beside you, softening cock slipping out of your tender folds.

The floor between the coffee table and the couch is dark, the television glow not reaching down here. Even still, the sweat clinging to Jungkook makes him look like a sparkly Twilight vampire, the dip between his pecs collecting the smallest pool of sweat. You can’t stop yourself from running your pointer finger along the skin, over his nipple. His pec jumps deliciously under the attention. “Stop,” Jungkook sighs, catching your wrist in his, pressing his lips to your knuckles in an attempt to distract you. “Or I’ll really get you pregnant next time.”

You push yourself onto your elbows, pinching his doughy cheek. “You won’t,” you tease. Jungkook flicks his hair away from his eyes to level you with a look you’ve never seen before, not a trace of his usual post-sex playfulness to be found. It has you retracting your hand, eyes wide when he doesn’t stand down. Still, you can’t lose. “...No you won’t,” you repeat, quieter, almost unsure. Almost a question.

Jungkook rolls his eyes, tugging you into his arms. He’s all sweaty and sticky, just like you. He’s lucky he doesn’t have four separate loads of cum— three from you, one from him —sticking between his thighs. “Keep telling yourself that,” he pants, so smoothly. Too smoothly. It makes you clench your thighs, something Jungkook doesn’t miss. “Stop it,” he warns a second time.

“You’re just so dreamy,” you whine, sitting back up to play with his hand. “Like, when you made me squirt?” He chuckles softly, eyes fluttering shut. “Not gonna lie, I thought I saw the answer to the universe for a second.”

He’s worn out today, more than usual, that he doesn’t bother gracing you with a response. But it had been a long day for Jungkook; from planning an entire date, to the Seokjin debacle, to the crazy hot sex he’d gifted you. It was only reasonable. You reward his efforts with a soft peck against his cheek that makes him smile, a light blush painting his cheeks. “You did good today,” you hum, patting chest comfortingly.

“Felt like I was in a Viki drama,” he confesses after a moment, has that tiny smile on his face that makes the apples of his cheeks especially round, especially cute. “The kind that have twelve plot lines going on.”

You laugh, snuggling beside him. The rug feels dirty, but so do you so the feeling is cancelled out or whatever. “You’d be the Park Seojoon of any Viki drama,” you tell him, and Jungkook laughs.

That loud and airy one he reserves only for you.

epilogue

Namjoon calls Jungkook’s phone a little after eleven, talking your ear off about some date he’d gone on while Jungkook is in the shower. You tell him about what happened with Seokjin and like all respectable college mentors, he just about flips. “You can sue him,” Namjoon hisses, furious for you. Not that you aren’t anymore, but in a weird act of impulsiveness, Jungkook had gone outside and ran the stupid box of flowers over with his car as you watched from the open window of your apartment. It was weirdly cathartic.

He’s in the shower now, humming the lyrics to one of the songs from Secretary Kim, a song called It’s You by Jeong Sewoon (thank you, Shazam), that makes every inch of your body overflow with adoration when he hits that long note. Anyway, you’re perusing the rest of the streaming service for a movie to watch. Jungkook said you couldn’t watch Train to Busan tonight, something about it ruining the mood. So now you’re debating between a historical romcom or a modern romcom.

Over the line, Namjoon is doing all the raging for you. “Men are trash,” he huffs one last time, before eventually letting it go. (For now.) “Hey, do you know how to cover up hickeys?” he asks suddenly, just as Jungkook reappears in the living room. His skin is glowing, looking like the hottest man alive. The window is still open, a feeble attempt to air out the smell of sex in the room, and the draft makes Jungkook shiver because his hair is still a little wet.

“Hickeys?” you repeat, stretching a hand out for him as he rounds the couch. Jungkook takes it, places a soft smooch against your knuckles, close to your promise ring. Your heartbeat stutters just as Namjoon hums.

“Yeah, this girl,” he says, cutting himself off with a laugh. One you recognize all too well because it’s the same one you let out when you talk about Jungkook to other people. Said boy settles close beside you, leans his cheek against your head when you snuggle into his neck. As soon as he’s there, you lose all rights to the remote, watching as Jungkook completely disregards all your searching just to click back onto Secretary Kim. He had missed a whole episode. “We went a little crazy tonight—“ you gag at the image Namjoon places in your head “—and Doyeon bites kinda hard—“

“Doyeon?” you interrupt, all mental processes coming to an abrupt halt as the name bounces around your mind. Jungkook, having mastered the art of listening in on your phone calls by now, freezes beside you. “You know a Doyeon?”

“Yeah!” Namjoon says excitedly as you sit up. Jungkook meets your gaze, big Bambi eyes giving the performance of a lifetime, and gives your this overly innocent shrug of his shoulders that tells you more about what he does know than what he doesn’t. “Kim Doyeon. She went to your school— actually, she graduated with you and Kook.”

The world comes to a complete stop as you glare at Jungkook, his panicked features cueing you in to the fact he was aware of this, as you’d suspected. “Namjoon,” you say slowly, fist tightening around Jungkook’s phone. “Are you aware you’re fucking my best friend?”

There’s a long silence on the other end, Namjoon presumably processing the information while Jungkook tries to calm the boiling anger within you. “He didn’t know,” Jungkook whispers, big pretty eyes on you as he tries to save Namjoon from you.

All his efforts are in vain when Namjoon clears his throat and so eloquently says, “and you’re fucking my best friend?”

epi-epilogue

The Best Buy employee doesn’t ask questions when you and Jungkook go in to get your cracked phone screens repaired. He does, however, give Jungkook an over-exuberant sales pitch on a brand new line of computer monitors that are almost as big as the television at your house.

You try to save him from the dangerous hands of capitalism, but the Hello Kitty bandaids decorating your neck are itchy, the skin still so tender, so sometimes it’s wiser to let him waste his money than argue otherwise.

“Good girl,” Jungkook says as he swings your arms back and forth on your walk to the car, impressed by the fact you didn’t argue with him in a Best Buy today. “My perceptions and understanding of you in my life make me happy,” he beams, too smiley as he unlocks the doors.

“Shut up,” you glare, painfully tearing the stupid bandaids off your neck as soon as you get in, brandishing the blossoming hickeys Jungkook had so graciously given you last night. At the sight, he bites down a smile. “You’re about to perceive and understand these fists.”

And Jungkook smiles— he always smiles —as he leans over the center console to press his mouth against the darkened skin at the front of your neck, mindlessly rubbing his thumb over your promise ring. “Perceive this love,” he says, so cheesy it makes you gag.

“Goddd,” you groan, pushing him away before he can see the smile on your face. “Someone get this man a Viki deal.”

#networkbangtan #bangtanhq #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook fic #jjk smut #jeon jungkook fic #jeon jungkook x reader smut #bts jungkook #bts fic #bts smut #mine

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ramp-it-up · 3 years

Text

...And Forever

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Enhanced!Reader; Bucky Barnes x Enhanced!Reader

AU: MCU A/U, after TFATWS

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. SMUT! Read at your own risk. Alternate MCU facts/timeline, lies, cursing, angst, oral, (F, M receiving) fingering, spit play rank kink, size kink, unprotected sex (wrap it up!), sex on a pool table, semi-public sex, a special surprise, stalker-ish behavior, almost Dark!Steve? Not Beta’d. All errors my own.

A/N: I am an MCU nerd but not a timeline detail gal. Please forgive me if the timeline is off. This is an alternate universe and a work of fiction. Please have fun with it! This is the second part to Always. Enjoy!

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

You opened your eyes to see that you were in what looked like a break room. There was a coffee machine, a round table with five chairs, a row of lockers, two Captain Americas, and a Winter Soldier.

There was some strange conversation going on.

“Then who gave me the shield at the lake…?”

Sam was questioning Steve, but he stopped talking when you started moving around. You must have still been in the wedding venue, because you saw the name of the historic building on various items in the room.

You scowled up at Sam, Bucky and Steve.

You moved to sit up and Steve was at your side. “Easy…”

“Sweetheart, are you okay?”

You squinted at Steve. His hair was shorter and he was clean shaven, but he was still gorgeous. Those blue eyes were full of concern.

You raised your hand, and he held it, holding it and caressing it as you raised it to his face.

“Is it really you?”

Steve smiled ruefully at you. “Yeah, it’s me.”

You held his cheek and looked at him, bringing your other hand up to the other side of his face. He smiled at you.

You grabbed him and hugged him hard, and then pulled back again as he held you in his arms. He moved back and pursed those ruby red lips.

You had this irresistible urge to...slap the shit out of him. And so you did.

The sound reverberated in the room. Steve just stared up at you, with that fucking beautiful face, and then smiled, rubbing his jaw as if it hurt.

But you knew it didn’t. And you were tired of the bullshit.

Sam and Bucky moved to calm you down, but you were too quick for them, pacing to the other side of the room.

“All of you can stay the hell away from me. Y’all have some fuckin nerve. Especially you, Steven.”

Your Houston accent was shining through with your anger.

“Wow, Sweetheart, that was harsh. But I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

You pointed at Steve.

“Fuck you.”

You were seething, especially when he raised his eyebrow at your comment. But he quickly fixed his face when he saw the rage on yours. You looked at Sam, who just looked down, and at Bucky, who looked like he was in pain.

Fuck thier feelings.

“I deserve your anger. I didn't tell…” Steve tried it.

“You don’t deserve a got damn thing. Not even my anger.”

Steve was stone faced at your vitriol. You were shaking, trying to control your emotions and not cry. You were so hot. You fought to keep your voice steady.

“I thought you were dead.” It came out as a ragged whisper. But you knew everyone heard you.

Your voice was low, even, and scary. Bucky looked at you with wide eyes. Your own were brimming with tears.

“I thought you were dead and that they didn’t want to tell me.”

You waved your hand at Bucky and Sam. And you waited until Steve looked you in the eyes again.

“I thought you were in prison, that someone, on some alien star, forced you to play some sick gladiator games. Or that HYDRA was still around and they turned you into an agent for them. Or that you lost your memory in the blip. So many scenarios played in my mind, Steven.”

Steve knew better than to talk. This was his time to listen.

“But I never ever once thought that you chose this. Never thought it was your choice to leave and to stay away.”

“Listen…” Sam started speaking.

“Shut the fuck UP, Samuel.”

If you had Bucky’s knives, all of them would be seriously injured right now.

“You knew that he was alive and you didn’t tell me. Despite me begging for any kind of information.”

Sam just pursed his lips and returned your glare. You were right.

You went and stood in front of Bucky.

“James…��

He looked at you, those pained eyes making your stomach flip.

“How could you? You knew?”

He just stared at you. Retreating into not speaking.

Steve spoke up.

“Yes, I left. Yes, it was my choice. I thought I could… Well, let’s just say that hindsight is 20/20 and you can’t ever go back. I swore Sam and Buck to secrecy and I asked them to take care of you. This all just got out of hand. Didn’t it Buck?”

You watched Steve in disbelief and you swiveled your head toward Bucky and Sam again.

“You both lied to me. And Sam. Did you tell Steve to come back and ruin my life?”

Sam scoffed, offended. “No. I didn’t. S.H.I.E.L.D gave Steve quarterly updates. You and Bucky happened so fast…”

You ignored his explanation.

“But you knew exactly where he’d gone.”

“Yes.” Sam was cornered.

You turned back to Bucky.

“I asked you a question earlier. Did you know?”

He nodded, imperceptibly. “Doll… I…”

“James Buchanan Barnes. You knew?” Your heart was breaking even more than it was.

“Yes, but it’s complicated. He didn’t come back, at least not the way he left, and I thought it was a done deal. I thought he found…”

You interrupted him.

“What. Happiness?”

You turned back to Steve. “Is that what you were looking for, Steve? Happiness?”

“Sweetheart, you made me happy, I just had the chance to finally settle some unfinished business.”

You nodded.

“So James here took advantage of your little vacation to get with his best friend's girl while you explored your other options. Cool.”

It was not cool.

“Do you remember when you asked me if you could trust me, Steve?”

He just gave a little smile and came to stand before you, looking down at you in that way of his. He was trying to shake you. You were unshakeable. You raised your chin and looked right in his eyes.

“What you don’t understand is that you can’t pick and choose the pieces of life that you want, Steven.”

You moved away from all of them. Steve stepped toward you, but stopped when you held up your hand.

“I’ve lived my life for everyone else, for this country, for as long as I can remember. I deserve a little piece of life, Sweetheart.”

Steve really believed what he was saying.

“What about me? Do I get a choice?”

Steve looked around at his two best friends, who were now best friends, and his best girl.

“You’re right. I think you should. You should choose.”

Your mouth hinged open. You spoke at the wall, then looked at Bucky.

“What about you, James? Do I need to choose?”

Bucky walked in front of you

“No Doll. You don’t have to choose.”

You looked up into his eyes. Damn, he looked so handsome in his bespoke grey suit that he chose for the wedding. And the tie that you gave him set off his eyes.

“I just…. I just wanted a piece of happiness too. I knew you were Steve’s girl.” He took both of your hands in his.

“I don’t deserve you. When Steve didn’t come back, and you and I connected, I couldn’t help it. I was just going to keep an eye out, but…”

He gave you that cute little side smile of his. And then he kissed you. It was short and sweet and oh so hot. You looked up at him, shook to the core. And then he ruined it all.

“I love you Doll. It was nice while it lasted.”

Bucky was giving up.

You nodded and backed away. Not believing this situation.

“Ok. I’m making my choice.”

You raised your chin and looked at Steve and Bucky.

“I’m not some fucking marble that you pass around, play with, and trade with your friend.”

You took a deep breath. “I choose me.”

You were gone in a flash, before they could even register it. And although they ran, they couldn’t catch you before you were out of reach.

-----

Three months later, you walked through the late August soup of Houston heat to the bar, pausing when you thought you heard footfalls behind you. You used your speed to zip along to Willy’s; you were safe there.

You were back sharking with the best of them. But your training was put to good use. You never got burned and you never got caught. You were making a good living.

There were a jumble of misfit super humans who had gathered there with you. You were a leader now. And you were doing well on your own. It was a life.

You already knew he was coming, and maybe that’s why you moved to the back room to play.

You were prepared, but when you felt him, you still lost your breath. But you recovered quickly, straightening your spine, despite the fact that he was standing so close to you.

You looked at the dartboard on the wall across from you and chalked your cue.

“Don’t you have other things to take care of? Other wheres? Other whens maybe?”

You learned more about time travel since you’d left New York, and you understood more of what happened.

The Avengers had access to time travel. If only you could go back… but no. You were stronger than those men. You could live with your decisions. And move forward.

“No. What I need to take care of is right here. Right now.”

His deep growl stirred something inside you, and you fought your body, which was becoming moist at his proximity.

You bent over the table, super soldier dick poking you in the ass before you drew your pool cue back sharply into his stomach. Abs of steel met the cue and nearly broke it. He just stepped aside and shook his head at you.

You turned your head to look into his aqua blue eyes and you fell in love all over again. Shit.

You gave up and turned around, leaning back against the pool table, because he wasn’t giving an inch, not moving from your space.

You scanned the room and your people were watching, but keeping your distance. They all knew who he was, and your history. They gave you space, but wouldn’t let you be hurt without a fight. You nodded at them and they all went to the front, giving you more privacy.

He nodded in their direction.

“People fall under your spell fast, I know that all too well. They trust you.”

You lifted your head. “I’ve never done anything to make them not trust me.”

He sighed. “Point taken.”

“Why did you come here? I know that you’ve known where I was. Sam must have told you.”

“I’ve known where you were. How could I not? I didn’t need Sam to tell me. It’s not like you were trying to hide.”

He cocked his head at you.

“But the reason that I’m here, now, is that I’ve always been slow at math. And I just put two and two together.”

You smirked up at him. “You’re right. This is home. A leopard doesn’t change her stripes.”

He just chuckled at your evasion.

“You wanna play a game?”

His eyes followed you, undeterred by your challenge.

You walked around to the other side of the table, leaned over and gathered the balls to be racked.

You held two in one hand and looked at him. He smiled and the electricity at the small of your back was everything. He slowly walked around to you as you racked them.

He took in your form (including your ample cleavage) as you bent over the table and your mouth as you said the word, “Break.”

“I’m tired of playing games, Doll. I’m just here to win you back.”

You turned around and faced him, looking up at him, now aware of his smell. You closed your eyes and inhaled leather and metal. You opened them again and his eyes were blazing.

“James.. I”

Bucky grabbed your face, hands gently cradling your head, and cut you off with a kiss, his lips gentle at first. Then his hands moved to your hips and lifted you onto the table. He slotted himself in between your thighs, your bodies separated by the same brand of black denim.

His lips and tongue seemed determined to possess you. Bucky kissed and felt your body like he hadn’t in a lifetime. His hands roamed you like they were starved from touching you.

Your hands were on his neck and in his hair, relishing the feel of him. You’d missed him so fucking much. You drew apart, and his breath fanned your face as you two panted together, his forehead resting on yours.

“I am never going to let you go again.”

“James…”

“Hold on Doll, I’ve got to say this.”

He smiled and gave you another quick peck. You nodded, solemn.

“I said the wrong thing back in Brooklyn. I don’t care that you were with him first. I don’t care if you think that you might want to be with him. When I fell for you, I fell harder than I ever have. Even from the train.”

He was whispering the words you wanted to hear months ago, causing you to cry. But a lot of things caused you to cry lately.

Bucky smiled at you, his eyes crinkling in that adorable way that you loved. You opened your mouth to speak and he kissed you, silencing you again. You responded with a smile. He continued.

“I know that you think that I folded and just gave up on you on our wedding day. I was just thinking that I don’t deserve you. Especially next to Steve. I mean, you won’t find a better man. But in the time since, I’ve realized, even though it’s hard. I’m a good man too.”

“You are, James…”

“You helped me come to terms with everything that’s happened. Sam has helped me deal with everything I did...and I’m not perfect, and neither are you, but we can be perfect for each other.”

You nodded, smiling a little.

“I’m in love with you and I deserve you. You deserve me. We deserve each other. And I’m not saying this because I think you saved me. But you are the strongest woman I know, enough to be with me when I am weak. I figured out that I can be strong for you too. I have to be now. I am so sorry that I let you walk away. But I’m not going to let you out of my sight now, even if you don’t want to be with me. But I am asking you, again. Be my family. Make one with me. Choose me.”

You shook your head as tears fell from your eyes.

“James Barnes, there was never ever any choice. It’s you. It will be you. Forever.”

Bucky let out a sigh of relief and started kissing you all over your face, down your neck and into your cleavage.

“I was scared shitless, Doll! I love you so much,…”

You kissed him now, your hands under his jacket, slipping it off his shoulders. Next, you went under his shirt, feeling his nipples, playing with them as he shuddered. Then your hands went up to one cold shoulder and one warm, grasping them as he ground his hard jeans covered crotch into yours.

“Too many clothes.”

You ended up helping him pull his shirt over his head. You trailed your hand back down his abs to the button on his jeans.

“I missed you James. My hormones are going crazy, Baby…”

His eyes got wide as you popped the top button and bit your lip. Bucky moaned. He was about to explode just being near you.

“Th-that’s what we need to talk about…”

“Talk later. Fuck. Now.”

Bucky looked over your shoulder to the other room. To his surprise, the door was now closed.

“Wow, they…”

You hopped down from the table and got on your knees in front of him.

“You gonna let me suck your dick or not James?”

He looked down at you smirking up at him and could feel himself leaking in his jeans. Three months of his hand had been torture, thinking of you.

It seemed as if he unfastened and pulled himself out without knowing. For a moment he feared mind control.

But it was just love and lust.

You grasped him, testing his girth and admiring how your fingers did not meet around his cock.

“Mmmmmmmm,” you moaned while you thumbed his tip, collecting the pre-cum and lubricating him as you pumped.

He stared at you, slack jawed and sexy as he watched you. He reached down and put his hand in your hair, massaging your scalp.

You commanded him. “Eyes on me, Sergeant.”

Bucky locked eyes with you and watched as you licked your lips, opened your mouth, and spit on his cock.

“Fuck.”

You pumped him a couple of times before you opened wide and took him as deep as you could, relishing the feel of his wide, smooth, hard unit in your mouth. You pulled off of him with a pop.

“Damn I missed this dick.”

Then you deep throated him again, making Bucky have to hold on to the side of the pool table as he held your head while you spluttered around him.

“And I missed your pretty little mouth, Doll. Damn.” He watched as you did it a few more times.

When you looked up and he saw your ruined face, Bucky went feral.

He pulled you up by your shirt, pulling it over your head and wiping your face with it. Then he kissed you.

“Fucking love how you do that, Doll.”

He started kissing down your chest, pulling your breasts out of your bra, pinching and rolling your nipples gently, a little more carefully than usual. He looked at you knowingly as you squirmed in pleasure.

“I’ve been doing my research.”

Then, he leaned down and suckled them with that mouth until you almost came, writhing in his arms. Bucky unbuttoned your pants and pulled them down, kneeling, and staring up at you as you leaned against the green felt table.

You stepped out of your jeans and panties and watched as his flesh hand glided from your ankle to your ass, palming it and then sliding back down as he lifted your thigh on his shoulder. You shuddered as you could feel his breath on your cunt.

“I’ve been dreaming of this.”

His eyes held yours as he leaned in for a kiss, then a long wet lick of your cunt. You grabbed his brown hair as his blue eyes hypnotized you and as he ate you out. When his metal fingers came up, whirring, you started begging.

“Please, James…please…please…..”

He laughed, mouth still fucking your pussy. He pulled away, chin glistening with your juices. His fingers began pumping inside you, the vibration driving you up the wall.

“Are you begging me to stop, or to continue, Doll? Talk to me.”

“Unnnh, unnnnh, oooohhh shittttt. Don’t ever stop.”

And then you came all over his face, Bucky slurping it up happily. He stood up, taking you with him and maneuvering you so that you could feel his thick tip at your hole before it breached you.

Bucky’s cock stretched you out and made you see stars as you slid down his thick pole while he was standing up, pumping inside you as he deposited you on the table.

You wrapped around him like a vine as he held you, cock pounding from the feeling of being inside you again. He pulled back to kiss you again. He was grunting in his throat as he tried to speak.

“Fuck you feel so good...Fair warning, Doll. I’m not going to last. Been too long.”

You let go of him, and leaned back on the felt, arms braced behind you as you replied, “Just fuck me James.”

Bucky took in your body, from where you were connected up your torso to your breasts and the beautiful fucked out look on your face and started moving.

“Fuck, fuck, fuckkk.” You took him, looking down to see the impossible stretch.

“Yeah, look at that. Looks and feels so damn good, doesn’t it, Doll? How the fuck are you so… so… fucking… tight….?”

“Yes, fuck, James, FUCKKKKK.”

All nerves were in your cunt as you went down to your elbows, and then to your back flat on the slate table, pool balls going everywhere.

Bucky pulled your hips off the table and really started digging in, hips snapping at a frenzied pace as his metal hand slid down your body. You could tell that he was almost there.

“Cum with me Doll.”

When that metal thumb touched your clit, it was over. You came as soon as you felt his white hot ropes of cum drench your walls. You closed your eyes for just a second, and then opened your eyes wide.

‘Why am I curled up on a pool table after being fucked by my 106 year old fiance? What is life?”

Bucky laughed as he pulled his shirt over his head and helped you off the table. He looked around, going to get you a bottle of water from the vending machine.

“You good?”

Bucky eyed you as you got your clothes together. He leaned next to you as he watched you drink the water.

“Baby okay?”

You ducked your head, smiled and grabbed his hand, putting it on your slightly rounded stomach.

“Yeah. I can feel him moving around. Can you feel that?”

Bucky just stared at his hand, then at your face.

“Not really… Him?” He was astounded.

“That’s normal. I’m gonna be able to feel him before you can, And yeah, Him.”

You turned more fully toward Bucky and he took you in his arms.

“I had all kinds of tests, to make sure that he was okay. I wanted to know if… if what they did to me would affect…. “

You shook your head, then smiled up at Bucky.

“He’s healthy. I’m 20 weeks. I figured we’d call him Jamie?”

Bucky beamed at you and nodded.

“How did you know?”

“Well, I figured out that you didn’t faint at the wedding just because of Steve. Why didn’t you tell me, Doll?”

You rolled your eyes.

“Are you really asking me that question?”

Bucky blanched and you decided not to be salty.

“Well, At first, I didn’t want you to feel trapped. I was so happy that you asked me and didn’t know.” You beamed at him. “ But then…” Your smile faded.

“I’m an idiot, Doll. Forgive me. It’s me and you. And Jamie. Forever.”

You two shared the kiss you missed at the altar. It was going to be okay.

“Now, let’s go get some food. I know you’re hungry.”

You laughed as you punched his arm.

“Ass. But you’re right.”

You two walked down the street to Ninfa’s Restaurant hand in hand. Bucky turned his head and gave an imperceptible nod as you two passed by an alley/

Steve returned the greeting as he stepped out and watched you and Bucky make your way down the street.

“That’s okay Sweetheart,” he whispered. “Buck’s a good man. But I know you’ll choose me. In another time.”

He walked to the quinjet, which was pointed toward New York.

-------

Did Reader make the right choice? What do you think about the surprise?And what the what is Steve thinking? Let me know if you liked it by commenting or reblogging!

Tagging:

@olyvoyl @summerofsnowflakes @sillyteecup @riiyy @honeysucklechocolatedrippin @theselilwonders @lonelydance @chattykathysquietsister @anh1020 @nissameta1782 @afriendlyblackhottie @betterkeepmewetterthanabayou @jbrizzywrites @stilltoyou @donutloverxo @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @kiwisa @food8me @aiikaa @marvelfansworld @london-grunge @pheebsyells @thesecretlifeofdaydreams-bl-blog @douxtille @ximaginexx @fofisstilinski @bertieandberries @ladystrawberry @bit-of-a-timelord @chesca-791 @calimoi @fangirlfree @bbaengtan @karolsboo @aliceforbes @insertpithyusername @sickknik @photmath @whorekneebrain @anacrcarvalho @iconicshit @spicybibimbap @fineanddandy @olyvoyl @chaoticsteverogers@txtsfromyourex @sadthotsonlylove @ikatieebabyy@nerdymugsharkempath @maroonsunrise83 @curlyhairclub @spookyparadisesheep @keepingitlokiii @weaselbeedisneygeek @toofab4utheatrediva

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sunookkii · 3 years

Note

hey i know request are closed but this idea just got stuck in my mind and i wanted you to write sum about it if you like it 😭 so basically its an enha reaction/scenario ? where they forget your birthday, (maybe not in a bad way but i dont mind if its angst) hope ur good btw !! <3

a/n : OMG WAIT SRY TO ALL THE OTHER REQUESTS BUT THIS ONE FOR SUM REASON REALLY STUCK OUT TO ME i hope you enjoyyy ;) also I wrote so much I’m so sorry- [not really read proof~]

Also i am well ty for asking >.<

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.enhypen imagine ˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

Enhypen forgetting your bday~

Genre : angsty ish

Warnings : mentions of food, crying, one swear word??

Requested : yes ty beautiful person ;)

Heeseung :

Okay okay so its your birthdayyy and you were really excited for what to happen because you wanted to see what kind of surprise your boyfriend did for your birthday

But to your luck he forgot :(

So you spent all day giving him hints like ‘what day is it’ and at one point you gave up and started pouting really hard

And your face was just overall sad everyone else had remembered your birthday including the members, but for your boyfriend to forget it lowkey hurt

Almost half the day passed and he still didn’t remember

So you ended up going into the room by yourself and started to cry

Your whimpers got louder and louder even though you were trying your best to stay quiet so he doesn’t hear

A few minutes past by and heeseung started looking for you because he sensed something was wrong.

He looked on the calendar really really carefully and FINALLY he came to his realization that it was your birthday but it was kinda too late cuz you hid yourself in your room to cry.

He came into your room to wish you a happy birthday but he sees you curled up into a ball crying to yourself

He felt so bad after this happened, “IM SO SORRY IM SO SORRY PLEASE FORGIVE ME I WONT EVER GORGET AGAIN!”

He hugs you so tight as if your life depended on it, won’t leave you out of his sight for the rest of the day. You’ll be hearing a lot of hbds and ilys for the rest of the day~

^ so yeah 🤕

Jay :

I feel like it’s rare that he forgets these type of dates buut for the sake of tumblr lets pretend he completely forgot 😧

You woke up in a great mood because it was your birthday of course

You were expecting to be receive a hbd wish from your boyfriend, but nope nothing all morning.

You received a bunch of hbd wishes on Instagram and other platforms mentioning you, but none of them were from jay :(

You quickly got frustrated and because it was your birthday and your bf the person you love most didn’t remember really hurt

So gradually your face became wet from heated silent tears. But unlike heeseung he would super quickly notice because he’s on his phone a lot and he dates things like ‘y/ns bday’ (idk but I imagine him dating things on his phone)

He’d then be like OH SHIT ITS YN’s BD

Runs to you soooooo quick just to see your face red and a bit wet.

Once your eyes connected your tears started to come out quicker

He literally runs up to you to hug you HAPPY BIRTHDAY DARLING I LOVE YOU SO MUCH IM SO SORRY I FORGOT

After he said that he ran away from you leaving you alone, which made your heart drop thinking that he didn’t care.

But once you finally came out of your room you were greeted with a homemade delicious cake your boyfriend made for you that looked like this

You could tell he felt really bad bc usually he always had a smile on his face while cooking but this time it was a ‘I’m sorry’ face

“I’m really really sorry please forgive me”

All was forgiven bc the cake tasted so mf ing good

Jake :

It was your birthday today, a day that only came once a year so like any other human being it’s a special day for you

You were super excited to see what Jake did for you, because every birthday you had with him was always such a surprise

But today was sort of… different? :(

You saw jake in the living room on the tv and went straight up to him with a smiley face. “GOOODMORNINGGG” 😁

After cuddling for a while on the couch you lifted up your head and asked him If he knew what day it was, he just replyed with a simple Wednesday? With a confused face

I’m pretty sure that one word was enough to make you pretty upset 😅🥲

You started to pout and went back into his chest with a disappointed face.

“Ahh what what, what day is it tell me?” He said playfully, not realizing it was your birthday.

You stayed silent as he checked his phone, ‘y/n’s birthday don’t forget’

When i tell you he gasped he GASPED.

You were already in the verge of tears “IM SO SORRY HBD BABY”

You were still a bit upset at him so you replied with ‘did you really need your phone to tell me what day it was’ 😕

He hugs you tighter while mumbling ‘hbd hbd hbd’

Suddenly let you go of his arms and said he had an errand. Without any explanation he got his car keys to go somewhere leaving you and your thoughts by yourself.

‘Does he not love me anymore that he doesn’t even want to spend time with me on my birthday? ☹️😭”

A while later he comes back and you’re luckily still on the couch where he left you

^^this dude came back with three beautiful cakes from your local cake stores. “I’m bacccckkkk!! please forgive meeeee you know i love you with all my heart 🥺” (okay i hate to use this emoji but there isn’t any other way to describe it TT)

You obviously forgave him because you know it was never his intention to forget,,, “you owe me hugs and kisses for the rest of the day :(“ kindly accepts your request because that is something he’d never complain about #freecuddlesfromyn

Sunghoon :

Okay but like hear me out he’s the type of boyfriend that would ‘pretend’ he forgot your birthday but he actually didn’t

So when he ACTUALLY forgot you just thought he was joking until…

“Hooonieeee, stop joking around I’m seriouss”

“I’m serious too i seriously don’t know what day it is”

“What…”

You leave him for a bit alone with his thoughts, not even gna lie if he did end up forgetting your bday it would take him a while to remember it

But once he remembers he feels so bad 😭

Tackles you with so many hugs and bday kisses and showers you with I’m sorrys and hbd wishes

genuinely ask himself how he forgot the lohls birthday (love of his life’s) literally beats himself for it

And you have to tell him that it’s fine and that you forgive him~

Brings out the birthday cake and sings you a happy birthday song while clapping and laughing.

Puts cake on your nose

Sunoo :

Idk if he’s the type to forget but like jay I don’t think he’d forget

I feel like to him birthdays are the MOST special thing/ date for a person

Like obviously the rest of the members think that but especially sunoo really like sticks to this

So if he had forgotten your birthday you were sooo hurt you ignored him the whole day keeping your distance until he finally remembered

Once he remembered he went to go find you ASAP where you were hiding int he corner of the bedroom moping

He showers you with hugs cuddles kisses pecks, you name it he does it

He feels so bad that he could forget smtg like this, literally asks himself how he could forget such an important date

If the convenience store was still open he’d run to the nearest store and surprise you with a birthday cake. But not just any cake it’d be a cake that was decorated by the one and only Kim Sunoo

Would prepare it so nicely and even have a lit up candle so you can wish on it.

the type to surprise you with it even though he forgot. Brings it to your room while singing the hbd song.

Puts cake frosting on your nose #2, takes lots and lots of pictures to post on insta later

caption : “happy birthday sunshine~”

Jungwon :

he was on the couch as per usual just scrolling through his phone to keep himself occupied but also updated

Not knowing what day it was,,,,,,,

you come outside of your bedroom excitedly to expect a wishful happy birthday wish from the person you love most

But for some reason it oddly seemed like a normal day

“Wonnniiieee my loveeee, guess what day it is!” You said with a sheepish smile

“Hmm wednesday?” He said looking up at you with a calm face

Your happy smile soon became a little pout

“You really don’t know?”

“Isn’t it just a regular Wednesday? Why is there something special?”

oh my- he broke your heart right then and there

You run back into your room because you feel heated tears about to fall, even though it was something small the thought of him not remembering your birthday the day of your birth hurt. A little.

Jungwon was actually super clueless he genuinely didn’t know what day it is but something about you seemed off and the way you ran to your room was quite odd to him so he went and followed you

Before he opened the door he already heard small whimpers from the corner of the bed, and that immediately triggered him and he was about to beat up anyone that made you feel sad 😠 little did he know it was him who made you feel that way

“Baby what’s wrong? Why are you crying”

He holds your chin and turns it to get a better look

wiping your tears with his thumb, you were being a dramatic his giggles make you feel a bit better even though you were mad at him for forgetting

“You forgot my birthday.” You said to him while crying

You can literally see the gears in his brain start to turn when his face went from 😄 -> 😳

“IM SO SORRY IM SO SORRY” hugs you so tight that you literally can’t breathe

Doesn’t know what to do to make you feel better, “I’m really sorry for forgetting your birthday, I don’t really know what got into me, please forgive me.”< cue the cutest kitty puppy eyes

He kept on rambling on abt how he was sorry and deserves your forgiveness you literally had to shut him up, he was sorry please forgive him >~<

Cuddles you for the rest of the day

Niki :

He was playing video games normally on his phone, until you excitedly stormed into his room “hiiiii babbbbyyyy”

“Well someone is happy today :)”

“Well of course bc u know what day it isss ;)”

“Wednesday?”

😧😦 < that’s what you looked like when he didn’t know, “you really don’t remember?”

“hmm I’m not too sure” he said before going back to his game

you slowly became disappointed and just ‘celebrated’ your birthday by yourself in the kitchen. :,((

he didn’t notice that you were sad at first bc he was busy playing on his phone, around an hour later he went to the kitchen to get a snack when he sees you in the kitchen staring into space rested your chin on you arm.

‘Are you okay? You seemed fine earlier’

You decided to play the silent game and just avoided him... so he tried to get you to talk to him but after a while it didn’t work so he sort of gave up and went to ask his hyungs what’s wrong with you.

“Niki,,, it’s y/n’s birthday omg did you forget??????” Jake said texting niki

and that’s when the lightbulb in his brain turned on

He rushed to the kitchen and back hugged you so tight and gave you so many cheekie kissies to try and make up for ‘forgetting’

But to his luck you were still mad at him

Soooo he came up with the idea of going to the convenience store really quick to get you a bunch of flowers and a nice cake to surprise you~

You ended up forgiving him because he was tickling you threatening you to forgive him

N knowing Niki he’s not a person you can be mad at for long <3

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whumpshaped · 2 years

Text

tw consensual kinky stuff, nonhuman whumper, biting

"I already know you want something, so out with it."

El was fidgeting with the hem of their shirt, trying to gather their courage. This was negotiation time, not play time. Am wasn't their master now, and they weren't a pet.

"I w-want to talk about feeding. I- I didn't change my mind or anything, I just…" They lowered their head even more, closing their eyes so they didn't have to see Am's face. "I want it to be more… r-randomised? I want- I want to… not know when it's going t-to happen."

They heard a low chuckle, and their face began to burn. This was so embarrassing. They hated negotiation time, even if it was important, and even if afterwards they were always glad they'd done it.

"Let me get this straight. You're still okay with me feeding on you like before, two days in a row and one day off. Right?"

"R-Right."

"All you want is for me not to tell you when it's going to happen."

"Y-Yeah… if that's- that's okay…"

"I'm guessing you just want me to grab you randomly and bite you. As if it wasn't even scripted or agreed to beforehand."

El nodded, grateful that Ambrose got it so quickly. That he got the intent behind it. "Yeah."

"Do you want me to be rougher too?"

Their eyes snapped to him in an instant, surprised that he offered. It was incredibly rare for him to just bring it up, allegedly because he always wanted to make sure El really wanted it and wasn't just going along with whatever he was saying. El thought this was bullshit - they were of the opinion that he just wanted to see them be all nervous about it. "Yes, please," they said quickly, and Am smiled softly.

"Still no licking?"

It was surreal to have these two questions right after each other. To experience again and again that somehow Am's sadism and cruelty didn't contradict his consideration and kindness. Never a single word or action to cause any more harm than wished for.

"N-No."

"Alright. Anything else?" When El shook their head, that goddamn devilish grin spread across his face. The one that indicated they were about to start, and he'd already thought about what to do. The one that made El's heart skip a beat and their breathing quicken. "Then pray tell, why is my pet still on the furniture?"

They'd had a cue before. Ambrose would say he was hungry, at any time during play time, and El would scramble to offer their neck.

The urgency with which they hurried to obey any and all commands always made Am smile, but this one specifically made him ecstatic. As an average everyday vampire, the concept of having his own little bloodbag had never occurred to him - yet there it was, a random human falling in his lap out of nowhere, eager and desperate to offer themself up as food. It made him want to call them over all the time, just to see that anticipation and anxiety on their face before he sank his fangs into their body.

That was good. That was great.

But the new system…

Oh, the new system was just delightful.

El let out a small yelp as Ambrose grabbed them from behind, without a word of warning, pulling them closer. He yanked their head to the side before biting down, hard, prompting a pained whimper that made the blood taste even sweeter. It wasn't offered anymore. It was taken.

El grabbed onto his arm to steady themself while he drank, holding so perfectly still for him, so docile, so submissive. Am could've devoured them whole.

"Hurts…" they choked out, and Am tightened his grip even more. He removed his fangs, letting the blood trickle down El's neck.

"Good," he murmured in their ear, and he could feel them shiver. "Or does my little bloodbag have any complaints?"

El whimpered at the nickname, melting into his hold. "N-No, Master. I'm sorry."

"Good pet." He grazed their sensitive skin with his fangs before biting down in a brand new spot, making El cry out. He could do this all day. Maybe he would.

#spk #ambrose #pumpkin baby

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rickmandowneyjr · 3 years

Text

Cuts to Cope

Angst, fluff Pairing: Severus Snape and Student!Reader (platonic) Warning: talk of self-harm, mentions of character's death Word Count: 2348 A/N: This is a little piece I wrote a while ago but didn't know if I should post or not. After re-doing certain bits, I decided to upload it. Hope it's not too difficult to read. As always, the ending is a little abrupt and not too detailed, leaving it sort of up to y'all as well :) Sorry if there are any typos (I only ever get the time to write when it's quite late nowadays)

Yet another day at Hogwarts - waking up at 6:30 am, showering, getting dressed in your robes, and heading to breakfast. Wishing everyone you passed a good morning, wearing your signature smile as you did.

You were a 7th year, one of the few returning ones after last year's incident with Cedric Diggory. He'd been your best friend, or at least that's what people thought. Cedric Diggory and you had been dating for the last 7 months before his death. You didn't want anyone knowing because being star students meant eyes prying into every aspect of your relationship.

People praised you, a model student and now, prefect, who set an example. An example of how to be strong and cope no matter what life threw at you. Little did they know, you harboured a little secret. A dark, horrifying, and disturbing secret that would never let anyone look at you the same way if they ever found out.

Your first class for the day was Potions. You were a brilliant student, especially at Potions, yet Snape still had something against you. You didn't take it personally, though; he wasn't really fond of anyone. You walked into class, taking your regular seat at the front. Snape walked into class a little while later, slamming the door behind him, commanding everyone's attention.

"Turn to page 420," he drawled. You opened the book to find the recipe for Amortentia. Your heart felt a tug at the name of the love potion, never having been able to find out the answers with Cedric.

Snape's deep voice brought your focus back to class as he said, "Since it takes a week to brew, I've already completed most of the process. All you need to do is the last day's work," making the class sigh with relief. "However," he continued, "The last day of brewing is crucial and not easy. So, I expect your attention to be fully on the task at hand."

You began brewing the potion, following the steps perfectly. Snape sat down to grade papers as the class worked. He looked at you and said, "Ms. [L/N], roll up your sleeves while you work. I'd hate for there to be mishaps in my class because of one student's carelessness."

You hesitated, but then did as asked. You weren't the best at wandless magic but had made sure to perfect this spell solely for such instances. As you rolled your sleeves, you subtly waved your hand over your forearms, mumbling, "Illusiont," and casting the disillusionment charm.

You saw Snape narrow his eyes at you and panicked for a second before you saw him shake his head and return to grading. Breathing a sigh of relief, you returned to the task at hand and continued brewing.

After a while, you'd finished, and were the first one to have done so. Snape walked over to your desk and took a whiff of the potion, raising an eyebrow before giving you a single nod of approval, letting you know that it was perfect. Once everyone was done, he walked around, starting at the back, and asked everyone to announce what they smelled. You hadn't smelled your Amortentia yet and hadn't planned on doing so either, feeling quite relieved when Snape hadn't asked that question earlier.

Your heart rate quickened as you began to worry about how your body and mind would react to smelling it. You couldn't do it last year, since the Triwizard tournament had led to a bunch of classes being cancelled. As you thought about how excited you had been at the prospect of sharing the experience with Cedric, Snape's voice pulled you back to your potions class.

"Ms. [L/N]."

"Yes, sir?"

He rolled his eyes in annoyance. "What. Do. You. Smell," he spoke, irritation evident in every word.

You swallowed hard as you leaned forward to inhale the scent. Your pupils dilated, your heartbeat quickened and your knees threatened to give out at the all-too-familiar fragrance. Your throat went dry as you stopped the tears from forming.

"Well? We haven't got all day, class is to be dismissed soon." He raised an eyebrow at you, asking you to hurry up since you were the last one.

With every ounce of energy, you calmed yourself and stopped your voice from wavering. "Old books, butterscotch and... vanilla," you sighed. Your breathing was erratic and you knew you needed to get out of class and get to the abandoned girls' washroom.

As if on cue, the bell rang, dismissing the class. Snape gave you an odd look and was about to ask you what was wrong but you had already gathered your belongings and were marching out the door. He decided to follow you since he'd never seen you act like that before and was wondering what had happened to you all of a sudden.

You made your way up the stairs, hurrying before you had a breakdown in the middle of the hallway. As you reached the washroom, you started rummaging through your bag since the hallway was empty. You took the small blade that you carried around out, pushing the door to the bathroom open.

Snape's POV

I followed her out of the classroom. Though not my favourite, [Y/N] was an incredible witch and this wasn't normal behaviour for her. She'd marched out before I had even dismissed class which concerned me even more, given her usually 'perfect' behaviour. She paced through the hallways and up the stairs so fast that I could've sworn she was moving around faster than I did on a normal basis. There was an urgency in her stride and I don't know why, but it concerned me.

She finally turned into the hallway leading to the girls' washroom on the third floor, which was odd. No one used this, as far as I was aware. I was a little embarrassed, considering I'd just followed a young girl to a washroom. In an isolated area, at that. I swear I never would've imagined myself going even further and following her in, but what I'd seen had shocked and concerned me enough to do just that.

End of Snape's POV

As you entered the bathroom, you had missed Snape, whose eyes were wide with shock. He couldn't believe what he'd seen. [Y/N] [L/N], the golden girl of Hogwarts, had just walked into an abandoned washroom after pulling out a blade from her bag. Not wanting to jump to any conclusions, he rushed in, wanting to confirm what his eyes had just seen.

As you were about to enter a stall, the door to the bathroom, swung open, making you jump. You hid the blade by making a fist, unintentionally cutting into your palm. You winced at the unexpected pain but didn't let it show.

You turned to face Professor Snape, and he was eyeing your hand. 'There's no way he saw it, is there?' you thought.

"Ms. [L/N], care to show me your hands?"

You panicked. He knew. You tried to divert his attention. "Sir, this is the girls' washroom."

"I'm aware," he stated. "Now... Hands," he said as he glared at you, letting you know that he wouldn't fall for any attempts to change the subject.

You sighed and opened your hands, and saw his gaze soften. He walked to you taking your hand in his as he gently pulled the razor out. You winced as it came out, knowing this would impair you for the rest of your classes.

"What were you thinking?!" He scolded, startling you. He reached for your arm, rolling up your sleeves once again and muttered, "Finite."

The scars on your arms started showing up and you couldn't do anything but look away, your eyes resting anywhere but his gaze.

"So that was the Disillusionment Charm I heard you use, earlier."

You stayed silent, still refusing to meet his eyes. Of all the professors, it had to be him. Sure, he wasn't fond of you, but you had immense respect for the man, and to let him see you in this light... it took every bit of you to not lose your composure.

"Look at me," he said.

You turned to face him. His usually cold eyes showed too much concern and the uncharacteristic response from the potions master was proving to be a lot to handle. Tears stung your eyes as he stared at you.

"Why?" He asked, his voice so genuine that you couldn't help but let your emotions spill, creating a mess that you couldn't be bothered to care about anymore.

"I can't do this anymore," you sniffled. "I don't want to. He was everything to me and it just hurts so much."

"Who?"

"Cedric."

"Ah, yes. I'm aware you and Mr. Diggory were best friends. I'm sorry, [Y/N]."

"No," you said, finally being able to talk to someone about it. "He was my boyfriend. And... I never got to tell him I loved him... because I wasn't sure. Today just made it worse when I smelled him in my Amortentia. It confirmed that I did and I never got to say it." You were sobbing now, not caring what you looked like, what a mess you probably were, or what Snape was thinking of you and your confession.

You felt him awkwardly wrap his arms around you as he pulled your head to his chest. Your cries got louder and your wails of agony echoed in the empty washroom as your hands clutched the fabric of his robes. The feeling of someone comforting you was overwhelming. You'd always had to keep up this image of a perfect student, reliable friend, someone who could never have such horrifying tendencies.

Even then, as you cried out loud, your instinct made you bury your face in his chest, muffling the 'ugly' sobs. Snape's heart broke as your thoughts flooded his mind. As you struggled to breathe, he turned your head slightly, making you audible again. He didn't hush you; just stroked your hair as your tears soaked his robes.

It took a while, but you finally calmed down, your sobs reducing to soft whimpers before they died out entirely. Your throat was sore, and lips, chapped from all the crying. Your eyes were red and puffy, and the reality of the situation finally came crashing down on you.

Your secret was out. More than one, at that. One of the professors knew, and the strictest one too. You had just spent Merlin knows how long crying into his chest, which was now soaked with your tears.

"I'm sorry," you mumbled, your voice, hoarse. "Your robes are all wet now," you said, trying to move away.

"That's the least of my worries right now," he said, keeping your head in place as he continued, "I understand what you're going through. Better than you'd know." It sounded like it was painful for him to talk about it, the tone of his voice giving the vulnerability away. "But this is not the way to deal with it," he said as rubbed your back.

"Does it go away?"

"I'll be honest," he sighed. "It does get lesser with time if you allow yourself to heal. However, it never goes away entirely. A part of you will always love and miss him. I'm sorry," he said.

"No, I'm glad. I don't want to forget him. Or my love for him. Cedric Diggory was and will always be - my first love."

You finally pulled away from his chest and looked him in the eyes as he gave you a gentle smile. You managed to muster a somber one and sighed.

"Do any of your friends know?"

"Merlin, no!"

"Why not? They're your friends. They could-"

"I can't have this getting out. Everyone will-"

"Who cares what people think?" He raised his voice. It was silent for a while before he sighed and spoke again.

"[Y/N], I want you to promise me something."

You knew what was coming. You gulped and nodded softly.

"I want you to promise me that you'll stop this. Cedric wouldn't want this for you."

"I know, and I've tried before. It's not that simple-"

"I know," he said, cutting you off. "Which is why, the next time you get the urge to do this, you'll come to me. No matter what the situation might be."

You were surprised at his words. It was incredibly nice of him to offer this to you, and you nodded, accepting his generosity.

"Also," he continued, "Please stop going to such great lengths to please others and worrying about what others think. It's not healthy."

"But-"

"But nothing. Your health is suffering and you can't even bring yourself to tell anyone because you're so busy keeping up this little charade of 'everything is fine'."

You stayed silent. There was truth in his words and you couldn't refute his accusations. You just looked up at him, once again, finding the uncharacteristic concerned look meeting your gaze. Nodding softly, you agreed. How could you not when someone had shown you such consideration and compassion?

A small smile graced his usually stoic face as he helped you up, and you both made your way out of the bathroom. He escorted you back to your dormitories, ensuring you were alright before the two of you parted ways.

The rest of the school year passed and Snape stayed true to his word, and you to yours. Every time you felt the urge to hurt yourself to relieve the pain, you'd find Snape. He was patient and helped you every step of the way. Slowly, but surely, you were able to overcome your urges and also found yourself living for yourself, rather than up to others' expectations.

By the time you graduated, you had overcome the habit and thanked Snape in your graduation speech, never giving away the details as to why. A lot of people had assumed there was something between the two of you, especially since you went to meet him all through the school year, but you didn't let it bother you, because... Who cares what people think, right?

P.S. - Sorry I've been a little slow with the writing. My college assignments have started rolling in and I'm currently swamped. Also, I'm working on a little something (announcing it in 2-3 days so make sure to check in lol). Rest assured, I'm slowly and steadily making my way through requests. Thank you for understanding <3

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ptergwen · 4 years

Text

no sleep

pairing: singer!reader x tom holland || w/c: 1.6k

warnings: swearing and many many many suggestive jokes

summary: you’re on jimmy kimmel to talk about your music, but he has other plans

a/n: y’all i’ve literally always wanted to write singer!reader and this idea just came to me and i had to get it out because it’s so cute :,) i really hope ya like it

jimmy kimmel invited you onto his show to promote a single from your upcoming album. you stepped out of the spotlight for a while, so this is your first official appearance of the year.

“my first guest tonight...” there’s a cheer from the audience. you grin to yourself, waiting for jimmy to finish announcing you.

“you wanna say it for me?” he chuckles and stands your picture up on his desk. “my first guest tonight surprised fans this morning with her new single ‘no sleep.’ it’s currently number one in over seventy countries.” jimmy holds for applause, which you get a ton of. you cover your hot face with your hands.

“she’s here to talk to us about the song and her short hiatus. please welcome y/n y/l/n!”

the music plays while you walk onstage, followed by more cheers and clapping. you’re beaming as you wave to everyone. you give jimmy a quick hug and exchange hello’s over the noise.

you’ve been in the industry for a few years, but you’ll never get used to responses like this. all the love really warms your heart.

“thank you!” you giggle out, taking your seat on the couch. the audience yells some more when the music dies out. “thank you so much! oh my god,” you make a face at jimmy, who laughs and gestures to everyone. “they clearly hated the song,” he jokes to you. “i was gonna say,” you agree, smoothing your dress down.

you look out at the crowd with a pout. “no, seriously. you guys are so cute.” jimmy copies your pout, earning a playful eye roll from you.

you’ve been on the show a couple of times before, so you two are friendly. tom has also brought you to chill backstage with him when he was a guest. you would’ve brought him this time if he wasn’t away for filming.

“so, you took most of the year off from making music,” jimmy starts the actual conversation. “mhm, i did,” you hum and cross one of your legs over the other. “how was that? was it weird not being in the studio?” you scrunch your face up, then he adds another question. “what did you actually do with yourself?”

“i mean, music is obviously a big part of who i am. making it, loving it, all that stuff.” a small smile crosses your face. “so, yeah. it sort of felt like something was missing at first.” jimmy nods along, you shrugging one of your shoulders.

“at the same time, i really needed to take a minute and just breathe. come back with my shit more together. i think i have,” you let out a reflective sigh. “it didn’t have anything to do with your boyfriend? a mr. tom holland?” jimmy teases, you waving a hand at him. “no, don’t give him all the credit.”

your break genuinely was for yourself. no one needs to know that tom was also off, or that he spent all his free time with you. that was just a plus.

“are you sure? because, it seemed like you two were getting really cozy.” a picture from your instagram pops up on the screen. it’s of tom under a blanket. he’s reaching out for you with a lazy smile. you lean over on the couch so you’re off camera, another giggle escaping you.

jimmy flips to another picture. “that was exhibit A. here’s exhibit B.” the whole audience coos, jimmy raising his eyebrows at you. this one is a mirror selfie from tom’s instagram. your arms are slung around his neck from behind, and half your face is hidden. tom is doing his signature eye crinkling smile into the camera.

“aren’t they just adorable?” jimmy asks the audience, making them erupt in more cheers. you sit up again and clear your throat. seeing those is bittersweet for you. “he’s very cuddly. anyway, back to the music!” you do a small clap. little do you know, there’s much more to come.

“yes, yes. back to the music. talk to me about ‘no sleep.’” the song is one hundred percent about tom. you’re not sure you should say that, considering the... explicit content in it. you and tom did get very cozy over your break, as jimmy would say. it was the only time you weren’t relaxing.

“well,” you plaster on an overly happy smile. that earns more laughter from jimmy. “it’s about what you do in bed when you’re, um, not sleeping,” you explain. “and who do you do those things in bed with?” jimmy glances up at the screen again. “you’re choosing violence today, jimmy,” you say under your breath.

there’s a chuckle from backstage that sounds eerily similar to tom’s. it must have been a PA. all this talk about him is seriously fucking with your head.

“well, everyone in my life inspires my work in some way. they’re such angels,” you dodge the question, thinking you’re clever about it. jimmy won’t let you get off that easy. “friends? family?” he asks you. “yeah, everyone,” you exhale in relief. jimmy widens his eyes at you. “so, that means ‘no sleep’ is about your mom?”

your mouth falls open. he’s really going to make you spill the details of your sex life.

“what the fuck, no!” you squeal, looking out into the audience for help. they join in your laughter. “it’s about tom,” you finally confirm so jimmy doesn’t suggest anything else. “it’s about tom, my god. next topic.” you’re smiling despite yourself.

“why? don’t you wanna tell us more about your lover?” jimmy glances off to the side. what is going on back there? you sit up straighter in your spot. “no, this is my interview!” you’re half joking, half serious.

although you and tom aren’t private at all, you’ve never talked about him this much. it’s overwhelming. besides that, this is making you miss him a lot.

“that’s too bad. we thought... we thought you might like to share it,” jimmy is already grinning about whatever he has planned. this isn’t supposed to be part of your segment. “huh? i’m literally so lost.” you furrow your eyebrows at him, lowering your voice. “we didn’t talk about this.”

he pats the arm of your couch. “they say there’s no time like the present. ladies and gentlemen, tom holland!”

on cue, tom runs out from backstage. the audience practically roars with how loud they are. people even jump out of their seats. you clasp a hand over your mouth in pure shock. this feels like a prank, like jimmy is about to say sike. then, tom comes up to the couch. you almost fall over, jimmy proudly watching on.

tom grins so wide it takes up his whole face. “happy release day,” he murmurs as you get to your feet. you’re not able to speak just yet, only staring up at him with glossy eyes. he brings you into a tight hug. his hands rub up and down your back, your arms snaking around his middle.

“tommy,” you try to whisper the nickname. you forgot your microphone is on. everyone “aw’s” at you both, including jimmy. “my love,” tom’s lips brush your cheek briefly. “hi, baby,” he speaks into your ear. you hide your face in his button up while he rocks you side to side.

he’s been away for a couple of months working on the third spider-man. this is the first time you’ve seen him since he left.

“shouldn’t you be in atlanta?” you ask louder this time for the audience to hear. you’re still doing an interview. “today’s a big day. i had to see you,” tom gives you one last squeeze. “in person,” he adds, before you can say you already facetimed.

the fact that him and jimmy put this whole thing together is making you emotional. you’d be fully crying if you two were alone right now.

“she doesn’t want you here, though. remember?” jimmy chimes in, tom breathing out a laugh. he sadly lets go of you. you flop back onto the couch, tom pointing behind him with his thumb. “i’ll just be on my way. five hour flight, no big deal.” “no, no, no, no. stay,” you whine and make grabby hands at him.

that’s all it takes for tom to slip into the spot next to you. he bites back a smile, putting an arm around you and the couch. you don’t want to annoy everyone with too much pda, so you subtly curl into his side. the people actually love you and tom together. jimmy claps his hands.

“we’ll be right back with y/n y/l/n and tom holland!” he says into the camera, the band playing more filler music. he steps out from behind the desk to greet tom. tom stands up, the two of them giving each other pats on the back. the camera stops rolling.

“hey, man. thanks for doing this,” tom puts a hand on jimmy’s arm. “anything for the happy couple. i’m gonna get some water, see you in five.” jimmy shoots you another smile on his way to his dressing room. you return it. that leaves you and tom to yourselves.

“baby,” you say in a sing song voice, dropping your head onto tom’s shoulder. “i’m so happy you’re here. i real life almost peed when you came out.” tom snakes his arm around your waist. “that would be upsetting,” he mumbles, his index finger drawing circles on you. “it would’ve ruined your very pretty dress.”

“you like it?” you knowingly tug at the form fitting material. tom shifts in his spot. “i’ll tell you what,” he leans in closer to you with a smirk, his breath tickling your ear. “we’re getting no sleep tonight,” he sings from the chorus of your song. you burst into a giggle and squeeze your eyes shut.

he ends up being right.

#tom holland #tom holland smut #tom holland fic #tom holland fluff #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland imagine #tom holland fanfiction #marvel #peter parker smut #peter parker imagine #peter parker fluff #peter parker x reader #peter parker #peter parker fic

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saeyoungchoismaid · 4 years

Text

The brother’s reaction to having a shy s/o who is inexperienced

Genre: fluff Warnings: none

Lucifer:

he was really subtle about liking you at first

until he found out that you like him back

then, all bets were off

he acted so cockily and confident

well, more than usual, that is

he was all about flirting and being touchy

teasing you constantly

when you two actually started dating, he was surprisingly pretty slow about going about things

you guessed it was because he hasn’t been serious about anyone in a while

a fiery blush came to your cheeks when you first held hands and he thought it was the cutest thing ever to see you so flustered

when he finally decided to kiss you, he notices you dodge his attempts

the first time it happened, he got the message and didn’t try again for a long while

he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, after all

when he tries again though and you still refuse him, he decides to talk to you about it

he’s absolutely 100% okay with waiting but he just wants to know why

does he scare you or make you nervous? Are you not as attracted to him as you thought?

when you confess that you’re nervous to be affectionate with him in fear of messing up, he’s confused

“Darling, I don’t care how good or bad you are. That’s what I’m here for. I’ll teach you all that you need to know,” he purrs suggestively into your ear

when you finally do kiss, he can tell you’re inexperienced but the kiss alone was enjoyable because it was done with you

Mammon:

it took him all of two seconds to try to first kiss you when you started dating

when you dodged it though, he felt his heart break a little

you’re his human now, right? So why can’t he show you how much he likes you?

true to Mammon manner, he throws a fit without really thinking about it

“Why won’t ya let me kiss ya? ‘U’re my partner, aren’t ya? I should be allowed to kiss ya!” he whines

as much as he wanted to kiss you, he was okay with waiting if that’s what you wanted

he’s just dramatic

when you teared up at his words though, his mind instantly shuts off and he doesn’t know what to do

“Yeah, ‘u’re right. I’m not being a good partner. I’m sorry,” you apologize, tears starting to fall down your face

he gapes at this, his heart beating faster when he realizes that he’s the cause of your tears

“What? No! You’re perfect! Stop crying! If ya don’t wanna kiss me yet, ya don’t have to!” he shouts

you sniffle and wipe at your cheeks, still not making eye contact with him

“Really?” you ask unsurely, thinking he’s just saying that to make you stop crying

you see his feet come into your view and then feel his hands on your cheeks, fear shooting through you when you think he’s going to try to kiss you anyway

“(Y/n), ya know how much I...like ya. I don’t want to make ya do something that ya don’t wanna do...”

you sniffle again, a smile slowly coming to your face as you look up at him

“Thank you, Mammon. This means a lot to me,” you thank softly

he huffs and shoves you into his chest, your arms coming around him for a tight hug

“Yeah, whatever, human,” he grumbles, failing to hide his blush from you

Levi:

he’s just as nervous as you are

yeah, he’s been around hundreds and hundreds of years but that doesn’t mean he’s all that experienced

he prefers hiding in his room to play video games and watch anime rather than going out and actually talking to all the normies

you make him want to leave his room though

he wasn’t exactly subtle about having feelings for you

then again, you weren’t the best at hiding it either

all of the brothers constantly tease you both

so, when you finally do get together, neither of you make a move to even hold hands

the most you do for a while is hug, to be honest

as time went by and you two got more comfortable around each other, he finally worked up the nerve to hold your hand

both of you had blushes the entire time though

it took him even longer to try to kiss you for the first time

when you avoided it though, he freaked out

“Sorry! Ugh, I knew I shouldn’t have tried that! I really am sorry! I didn’t mean to—”

he stops when you tighten your grip on his hand, his throat seizing up a bit at the extra pressure

are you going to dump him?

“I’m sorry. It’s not you. I’m just so afraid of messing this up...” you confess

cue confused Levi™️

“What? Why would you think that?” he asks as he turns to face you more now that he knows you’re not revolted by him

after you explain everything to him, he smiles softly at you and turns you to face him

“Hey, I don’t care about that. You’re talking to me, after all. There are plenty of things I haven’t done and I’m nervous to try. I want to try them with you though. For you,” he says softly, his free hand lightly cupping your cheek

you smile brightly at him now as you give him a hug

“Thank you, Levi.”

Satan:

he was really calm about the entire thing

well, other than when you would do something beyond cute and he’d just get so flustered

when he realized he liked you, he didn’t hesitate to ask you out once he ‘confirmed’ that you liked him back

when you said yes, he was beyond ecstatic

he practically dragged you to your first date right away

he held your hand easily, not noticing how you tensed up at the gesture before slowly relaxing into it

when he tried to kiss you after your first date though, you retreated from his face

he visibly deflates at the denial but he doesn’t push it

you two did just start dating, after all. Maybe you’re just not ready yet

and he’s okay with that

“Goodnight, (Y/n),” he whispers before kissing the back of your hand and leaving you at your door

he doesn’t try again until much later

when you do the same thing again though, he looks crestfallen

“(Y/n)...why won’t you let me kiss you?” he asks quietly, starting to become afraid that you didn’t actually like him anymore or that you’re scared of him

after hearing you explain that you’re afraid of messing up or that you’re not good enough for him, he looks heartbroken

“My love, don’t think so negatively about yourself. I want all of you, your faults and your downfalls included. I like you for who you are,” he says gently, cupping your hands with his

when he sees you smile, he pulls you into a hug

“Now that I know, I’ll wait as long as you want me to.”

Asmo:

we all know how affectionate this demon is

you two weren’t even dating yet before he tried making a move

when you shot him down or shied away from him, he just brushed it off

when he actually started liking you though, all of that stopped

he didn’t want you to be uncomfortable or nervous around him

he hated the thought of it

you, and everyone for that matter, noticed his change in behavior

he didn’t really bring anyone home anymore, he didn’t even really flirt with anyone that wasn’t you

it was freaking everyone out, honestly

well, everyone but you

it made you realize how serious his feelings for you are

so, when you two start dating, he’s ready to get things on the road

when he tries to kiss you though, you avoid it with a nervous gaze

this makes him just as nervous

does he still make you uncomfortable or anxious? are you worried about him cheating on you?

he let it go the first time, wanting to give you time to adjust to your new relationship with him

when he tried again though and you still avoided him, he just got more upset

“Why won’t you let me kiss you? Do I make you that uncomfortable?” he snaps without thinking about it

in his eyes, he’s been nothing but a loving, caring, and loyal boyfriend and you’ll barely cuddle him

everything comes to a stop when your eyes start watering though

“You’re right. I know. I’m such a bad partner. You can kiss me. Go ahead,” you concede, body shaking as you move closer to him

kissing you is what he’s been wanting but not like this

you clearly don’t want it

“What? No! Look at you! You’re shaking at even thinking about kissing me! I’m not going to force you to do it!” he shouts as he moves away from you

his yelling and denying you just makes you more nervous. You just keep messing up

“I’m sorry. I understand if you want to break up with me. I know you’re the avatar of lust. I’m such a bad partner. I can’t even kiss you,” you sob, your body shaking even more

he frowns at this, a pit forming in his stomach as he tries to figure out what to do

he sighs and moves to you, wrapping you in a hug and letting you sob into his chest

“Babe,” he calls out to you, getting no response. “Darling,” he tries again. “Sugar. Love bug. My honey bunches of oats,” he keeps going, the pet names getting more sickeningly sweet as he goes on

you start giggling at the fourth one, pulling away to look up at him

he smiles softly at you, his hands cupping your face and petting your hair as he speaks

“(Y/n), it doesn’t matter that I’m the avatar of lust. I want to be with you and if that means you don’t want to kiss me yet, then that’s okay. I’m sorry for shouting. I just thought you were still uncomfortable around me from how I used to act...” he confesses

your smile slips into a frown, your head starting to shake

“That’s not it at all. I just don’t want to mess this up. I really like you...” you confess

he smirks and kisses your cheek before saying, “Good because I like you even more.”

Beel:

my pure honey bunch sugar plum pumpyumpyumpkin sweetie pie cuppy cake gum drop schnookums schnookums baby cakes

I love this man so much I-

when he figures out he likes you, this demon can barely look at you without getting butterflies and a pink blush

when he finds out you like him too?

those butterflies turn into full-on birds and he swears he’s going to be sick

he gets so nervous around you after that

suddenly, things he used to do without thinking, he now overthinks about

you look so nice today. Should he tell you or will you be creeped out? He’s trying out this new recipe. Can he ask you to try it or is he pestering you? He needs help with his homework. Can he ask you or will you think he’s dumb or annoying?

MY POOR SWEET BABY

when you two get together, it helps him relax a lot

you wouldn’t be dating him if you didn’t like him, right?

takes him like three months to even hold your hand

after he first does it though, he ALWAYS holds your hand after that

he likes the feeling of your small hand in his

it takes him 47420959584 years to try to kiss you

he’s honestly so excited but also very nervous

he is constantly looking at your lips and imagining them against his

when he tries and you deny him, he thinks he might puke

“I’m sorry. I can’t,” you say softly

he swallows down his nerves and nods his head, moving away from you to give you space

“No, it’s okay. I understand.”

“But you don’t...” you mumble

what doesn’t he understand?

“Okay, then explain it to me?” he replies, it coming out more as a question that a statement

you sigh before explaining the situation

he smiles at your words though, thinking it’s kind of silly

“(Y/n), you don’t ever have to be worried when it comes to me. I care for you in ways that I can’t explain. If you aren’t ready to kiss me yet, then that’s completely fine. I want to kiss you only when you’re ready,” he reassures before giving your forehead a kiss

Belphie:

you two were cuddling in bed before he even realized he liked you

once he did realize though, he became nervous around you

he didn’t show it though

he just started acting indifferent towards you

he wasn’t fooling anyone though

it was the little things that showed everyone that he cared for you

giving you his leftovers instead of Beel, pulling a blanket over you if you fall asleep on the couch, pulling a piece of fuzz from your hair with the utmost care, the list goes on

when you two started dating, nothing really changed at first

Belphie is bad at expressing himself, so cuddling with you was already a big step for him

when you two move up to hugging and hand-holding though, he slowly starts to open up more

one day, he finally goes to kiss you only for you to avoid it

he’s confused but it doesn’t really bother him all that much because he knows what it’s like to received unwanted affection

but wait

why would his affection be unwanted? He’s your boyfriend, isn’t he?

he softly asks you about it, letting you know that he’s not upset in any way. He’s just confused

once you explain that you’re afraid of messing up, he chuckles a little as he pulls you into a hug

“Now why would you ever be afraid of something like that? You know that I like you. Both of us will make plenty of mistakes but we are a couple so we will work on them and improve together,” he coos at you

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writingmaneskin · 2 years

Text

Home is Where the Heart is - A Damiano David Story || Chapter Twenty

Pairings: Damiano David x Reader

Warnings: angst

Description: Learning how to love again, how to heal and that it's okay to move on and rebuild yourself after dealing with so much pain.

Words: 2k

A/N: Welcome to part two 💗 PS. This is posted while I am on holiday and I can say, Rome is definitely stunning. Enjoy!

THE HIWTHI MASTERLIST

THE MAIN MASTERLIST

Taglist: @queendorkula, @moonlight-simp, @idyllicbutterfly, @iosonoarina, @itsmaneskinbitch, @mywritingonlyfans, @hiraetheral, @maneskings, @homesicam, @ilwiwbysmv, @bieberhoodforever, @vita-thrasher, @katyldamusic, @ethaneskin, @theimpossiblehologramtree, @dubist-immerinmeinengedanken, @butkutee, @8iunie, @sunflowerpumpkinpie, @ventvnni, @sarcastic-sourwolf, @l0standn0tf0und, @dpaccione, @elvirabelle, @cuzimitalianooo, @daddystevekemp @shehaddreamstoo, @iamtashaquinn, @h1pp1eth1ngs, @alexxavicry, @inlov3ppp, @bigsimpsimp, @ccweasley

There was something beautiful about Rome in the late spring time.

It was that, or him being hopelessly in love with his best friend. What snapped him back to reality was the sound of Dante's laughter who was currently being entertained by some children's show, just so Dami could have his morning coffee.

"How are my favorite boys this morning?" Eli texted him, bringing a smile to his face. Oh, if they only knew the things he'd dreamed of just before waking up…

He adjusted in his seat, lit a cigarette and started thinking about what to reply.

He took a picture of Dante in front of the TV. "He is living his best life while Damiano.exe is still loading."

"Does Dami need breakfast? I am out running errands and I could bring you something to eat!"

"That sounds absolutely dreamy. How will I ever be able to repay you?"

"I can think of a way or two." Eli typing before putting their phone away.

Eli had slept. A weird, horny mess of a sleep as a result of being close to Damiano for too long yesterday. A horny mess that made them distracted and irritable. An itch that they were sure only he could scratch.

It was pointless to think of that, especially with him being so busy with the band and Dante.

Eli spent a lot of their time worrying about Damiano. So much so, that both their best friend Aurora and Tom kept checking up on them to make sure that Eli hadn't abandoned themselves.

They dealt with their anxiety by keeping themselves busy. Their production work kept coming in and piling up and while they dealt with it, they also started settling in Rome.

Eli went into the bakery closest to the Davids' home and bought pastries and coffee before walking to Damiano's apartment. They rang the doorbell and soon enough, Damiano was at the door, wearing only a pair of sweatpants and driving Eli absolutely nuts.

"Buongiorno!" Dami smiled and leaned forward to kiss their cheek, his lips brushing close to the corner of Eli's mouth. Eli flushed but even with the kiss distracting them, they noticed how tired Damiano looked and their heart hurt.

"Is it good morning if you haven't slept?" Eli kissed his cheek and walked into the apartment.

"I'll catch up on it eventually." Damiano insisted and closed the door after Eli.

"You are no good to anyone if you run yourself to the ground." Eli went to wash their hands. "Where is my bambino?"

Damiano was sure his heart skipped a few beats. There was his best friend in the entire world, asking about his son, treating him as if he were their own since the moment they'd met him.

"Eliiiiiiiiiiii!" Right on cue, Dante ran to them and hugged their legs, making Eli laugh.

I could listen to this for the rest of my life. Damiano thought. He started unwrapping the breakfasts and serving them, as Eli put Dante to sit in his high chair.

"How are you, bambi?" They kissed his cheeks multiple times, getting him to laugh. Dante had been laughing more with them around, and the relief that Dami felt from hearing that, made him want to cry.

"I am sleepy." Dante complained as Eli passed him a pastry and they looked to Dami.

"He woke up crying and it took a while for him to settle down so we watched a film and then he fell asleep." Dami explained, stifling a yawn. "I'll get coffee."

"I can try and clear my schedule to babysit him later, if you want to get some sleep." Eli offered.

Dami kissed their cheek again before walking over to the coffee machine. "He is getting better, but I have something for you." Damiano turned off the coffee machine once his cup was done and walked out of Eli's sight.

Dante ate happily and told Eli about the film he had seen when Dami showed up with a small box and handed it to them.

"This is for you."

"It's not my birthday." Eli looked at him suspiciously. Dami rolled his eyes and smiled.

"I know that it's not your birthday, smartass. This is for you."

"What is smartass?" Dante asked, making everyone laugh.

"Smartass is when someone acts like they know everything." Eli and Dami said at the same time, laughing again.

"Oooooo." Dante smiled too.

Eli opened the small box and their hands started shaking. Inside lay a set of keys with two beautiful keychains - one in the shape of a camera and the other in the shape of a heart with a small picture of Dante and Eli on it.

They looked up at him confused, tears threatening to roll down on their face.

"It makes perfect sense for you to have keys from home." Dami smiled and kissed their cheek. "You are home here and you should be able to come and go as you wish."

Eli pulled Dami for a hug, letting the tears fall down.

"Thank you for trusting me with this."

Dami held them and when they pulled apart he cupped their face and looked at their lips for a moment too long.

"I trust you with my life, I trust you with Dante's life. You always have a home here."

"You always have a home with me too, Dami." Eli spoke finally. **

"He gave you a key to his apartment? Just like that, out of the blue?"

Aurora texted Eli. The two had been best friends for well over a decade at this point and Eli considered them to be one of their closest people.

"He did. We were having breakfast and he vanished and then boom, keys."

“That’s… I am speechless.” Auri replied.

Eli sometimes wished that Aurora lived closer just so they could seek their comfort and be with their best friend for longer periods of time.

“I just bluescreened.” Eli admitted.

“I don’t blame you, who wouldn’t?” Auri typed back quickly. “You have been spending a lot of time with him and Dante, so no wonder he gave you keys.”

“I haven’t made a move on him, I wouldn’t. I stand no chance.” Eli responded.

“I know you haven’t made a move on him, that’s not the point. The point is that he clearly wants you to be there.”

“I am there, as much as he allows me to be.”

“I know. Are you taking care of yourself or are you just running around like crazy, trying to take care of everyone else?”

“Of course, I am taking care of myself, I need to be okay so I can help if need be.”

“They will be okay, you know? They are strong and they will recover and it will all be okay in the end.”

“I will make sure of it.” Eli vowed. It was not something that they had said to Damiano but it was true all the same - they would turn heaven and hell to make sure that Dami and Dante were taken care of.

Dante fell asleep in his stroller during their little walk. Damiano had insisted they’d be dropped off at the park close to their home so he could stretch his legs and hopefully get Dante to sleep since he’d missed his afternoon nap.

Damiano walked slowly, trying to ground himself and shut out the overthinking - something that he didn’t manage to do that often, even with the help of his therapist.

He watched Dante who slept peacefully, holding his little bunny and smiled at the bliss that his son was experiencing.

He stopped at a bench and lit a cigarette. The day had been intense. He’d given interviews with the band, he’d spoken to his therapist when he felt on the verge of breaking down, he’d seen his parents for lunch, and he’d spoken to a lawyer to make sure that Dante’s future would be safe.

Dante’s future and Dante’s present too were occupying a lot of his thoughts.

This little boy, his heart, was everything Damiano had.

“You are going to stress yourself into an ulcer.” His therapist warned him.

“I am fine. I have shit to do and there’s always more and more to be done.”

“Have you taken your medications?”

“Yes, in the morning. I also gave Eli the gift.” Damiano told his therapist. The two of them had discussed his feelings for Eli and had come to a disagreement on whether or not Eli felt the same way about him.

“And how did they react?” His therapist asked.

“They were happy, I think. They brought coffee and breakfast for me and Dante and they offered to babysit tonight so I can get some sleep.”

“What did you tell them?”

“I told them that I can catch up on sleep some other time and that it’s fine.”

“The meds can only do so much about your mental health without you also sleeping, Damiano. If not for yourself, do it for Eli and Dante.”

The words hit their target. He would do anything for Eli and Dante.

“Can I come over tonight?” Eli texted him, interrupting his thoughts.

“It’s your home, you can come and go as you please.” He responded, then realised that he sounded harsh and added. “We would love to see you tonight. I need my Eli time.”

“I need my Dami and Dante time too. I’ll be there.”

Damiano got up and started pushing the stroller home.

When they got there, he got Dante carefully out of it before sitting down on the sofa while still holding him and giving the angel some cuddles while he finished his nap.

The sound of the door unlocking woke him up.

He sat up slowly and looked at the door, to find Eli standing there with two bags and the smell of food woke him up instantly.

“I didn’t know you were sleeping.” Eli admitted shyly.

“I didn’t know I was sleeping either.” Dami chuckled and kissed Dante’s forehead. “Wake up, bambi, your favourite person in the world is here.”

Dante slowly opened his eyes too and his entire being lit up when he saw Eli.

“ELIIIIIIIIIIII!”

Eli put down the bags on the dining table and washed their hands quickly before picking up Dante.

“Hi bambi.” Eli kissed his cheeks. “Did you have a nice nap?”

“Sì!”

Dami stretched like a cat before getting up from the sofa. He started walking towards Eli, the desire to kiss them burning through him, but he stopped himself the second he realized what he was doing.

“Is everything okay?” Eli asked Dami, who simply leaned to kiss Dante’s forehead and then Eli’s cheek.

"Yes, everything is perfect." Dami smiled and went into the kitchen to get plates and start setting the table.

His mind wandered to a place where having dinner with Eli and doing all the mundane couple things would be normal. He thought about how much he wanted that for himself and then he considered how unfair it would be to Eli.

Unfair…

It was unfair that his life couldn't be as he envisioned it.

He left the plates on the table and went outside to smoke, to breathe, to calm down before he cried.

He thought of his mother's words, asking why he didn't tell Eli about his feelings. He thought about how it felt like his soul smiled whenever Eli showed up or texted him. He thought about Dante and Eli.

And cried.

Cried because they were there yet it all felt out of reach, since it had taken him too long to figure it all out.

Eli went to call Dami for dinner and saw him crying.

"What's wrong?" They asked, walking up to him. He pulled them closer gently and hugged them tight. "Let me carry it with you, whatever burdens you."

"I love you so much. I love you with every fibre of my being. I love you and I want to yell it from the top of my lungs." He thought.

He didn't know how to come clean. Instead, he said.

"I'm okay, it's okay."

#damiano david x you #damiano david #hiwthi #Maneskin #damiano david x reader #damiano david blurb #damiano david fanfic #ethan torchio #vic de angelis #thomas raggi

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book-boys-are-my-guilty-pleasure · 3 years

Text

A Stark and her Soldier ~ Part 1

Imagine: Reuniting with Bucky when you end up helping Sam with the Flag Smashers.

Warnings: TFATWS SPOILERS! This takes place during the first two episodes of the show.

A/N: I can’t believe I’m saying this but I’M BACK (with a new header lol)!!! AHHHHHHHH! It’s been nearly two years but here I am… posting this makes me SO nervous, so feedback would be highly appreciated! More parts and some information about what I’m planning with this blog to follow soon!

“You held us together – do it for them,” he paused before adding, “Promise me you’ll do it for them.”

You blinked away the tears, knowing what was coming, “I can’t promise that...”

“Y/N please,” the way he begged you with that shaking voice was nearly enough to push you over the edge.

“I-I promise.” He squeezed your hand before letting you leave.

“You’ve reached James Barnes, sorry I couldn’t take your call, please –” you hung up before the recorded message could continue, face burning with frustration. This was the 9th time you had tried calling him this week, not to mention the countless text messages.

You scoffed thinking of Steve’s last words to you, how were you supposed to hold them together when you barely held yourself together on a good day? It doesn’t make it any easier when the person you’re supposed to be holding together is so keen on letting himself fall apart.

Every time you tried calling him, you ended up feeling furious, miserable, or like an absolute failure – usually all three. You promised Steve, you promised, and you failed. You groaned and chucked your phone across your bed.

The last time you had seen him, Steve had still been around, and you hadn’t even spoken to him since Tony’s funeral.

You and Pepper had walked to the lake, each holding one of Morgan’s hands, and you had sat at the dock watching the arc reactor – his heart – float away, the people behind you forgotten in your grief. The weight on your heart was unbelievable, you had already lost your best friend, Natasha, and now your brother was gone.

You promised him that you wouldn’t cry at his funeral – he always knew it was inevitable – and so you sat there, sending him away with a pained smile.

You had no idea how long you had just sat there, staring at the horizon across the lake, trying to make this last moment with your brother last forever.

“Y/N?” You felt a hand squeezing your shoulder, “You should come back inside.”

“What happens now, Steve?” Your voice was softer than he had ever heard before.

“I don’t know, but we’ll figure it out together,” he paused for a moment before gesturing to Bucky, waiting outside the house behind him, “He wants to talk to you.”

You gave Bucky a small smile, “Hey.”

He walked over and dropped down next to you, Steve leaving the two of you to chat, “I’m sorry.”

“Thank you,” You nodded solemnly.

He added, “For everything, Y/N… he probably wouldn’t even have wanted me here, but –”

You shook your head and took his hand, heart fluttering at the contact. You had always been attracted to him, and it had only grown with every interaction. “That wasn’t you.”

You knew your brother never blamed Bucky, you all knew how it felt to have people mess with your heads and Bucky had had the worst of it. He was furious at Steve for years, but never at Bucky – you could never bring yourself to be angry with either of them, not after the stories you grew up with. Your father had adored the soldiers and you had been one of their biggest fans, and later one of Steve’s closest friends.

There had come a point after the battle between Tony and Steve when you had become sick of all the back and forth. You were lucky enough to find an escape when T’Challa got in touch with you, offering you a chance to come to Wakanda and learn about their technology – you weren’t ashamed to admit that you were the one who contacted him to beg for it. You hadn’t known that Bucky was already there. Slowly but surely, the two of you found comfort in one another and became good friends.

He gave you a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, “You should head inside, it’s getting late – I’ll see you again soon.”

He stayed true to that statement, the two of you stood with Sam and Bruce, waiting for Steve to come back after returning the stones – only to have him shatter your hearts.

You only saw Bucky in passing after that, occasionally visiting Steve at the same time – you never said a word to him, beyond a smile or a wave, and then you stopped seeing him all together. You tried, for the sake of your promise to Steve, but he never answered your calls or texts.

“We’ll figure it out together, right, thanks a lot Steve,” You muttered.

You jumped at the sound of your phone ringing, and your shoulders sank a bit when you saw Sam’s name flashing across the screen, “Hey.”

“He’s doing an interview,” You knew exactly who Sam was talking about, “Good Morning America.”

Your stomach turned, “That’s the last thing I want to see.”

“I know, I just thought I’d share my joy with someone,” Sam chuckled, “Any luck with Bucky?”

“I’m just wasting my time at this point,” You could feel the tears returning to your eyes as you said it.

“Hey, come on now, he’ll come around, he just needs some time.”

“Right…”

“Listen, I called because we have a lead, wanna join?”

“Please.”

“I hate it, his stupid face plastered on every wall, it feels like he’s mocking us.”

“Don’t you start, Y/N.”

“Seriously Sam, I get that he’s the new Cap – the fake Cap, but don’t you think that this,” You gestured to the posters around you, “is excessive?”

“It-”

“Shouldn’t have given up the shield.” Your heart skipped a beat at the sound of his voice and your face heated up with anger, you hadn’t realized it was possible to feel such contrasting emotions at the same time, but here you were. You noted that his voice was a bit hoarse and wondered if he had been sick.

“Good to see you too, Buck.”

“This is wrong.”

“So is pushing away everyone who cares about you.” He finally looked at you and you saw shame glistening in those steel blue eyes.

He said nothing before turning back to Sam, “You didn’t know that was gonna happen?”

Wow, ignoring your calls was one thing, but outright ignoring you while you stood in front of him, that caused a different kind of hurt.

You stood in silence as Sam explained where the two of you were headed, trying to push away the pounding in your head, and suddenly, you found yourself in a jet sitting next to Bucky.

“You could have answered, even once. Could’ve at least let me know that you were still alive.”

“I know,” Was all he said.

“We were friends once,” Nothing, “and I still care for you.”

“I know.”

“Four months, a full four months and I didn’t hear a single word from you, I’m going to need more than ‘I know’.”

He sighed, “I’m sorry.”

You could tell that he meant it and didn’t know what more to say, so you got up and headed towards the open door of the plane, “I’ll catch you boys on the ground.”

You watched Sam follow, and considered helping Bucky as he fell through the trees, but you decided against it. He hurt your feelings and now you could call it even.

Super soldiers? How on earth were there more super soldiers?! You didn’t have much time to ponder on the thought as you got kicked in the face by one of them and fell off the semi – definitely should have let Tony make you a helmet like he insisted.

You flew back up only to see him dropping out of a helicopter, Fake Cap, fuck.

“Looks like you guys could use some help,” Your blood boiled at the sight of his cocky grin.

You weren’t winning, and you weren’t stupid enough to continue trying, let Steve’s knock-off take care of it.

You flew off just in time to see Bucky lying on top of Sam, the latter groaned in displeasure.

“Hey, can you gentlemen save the PDA for later?” You joked, earning a glare from both of them.

With the adrenaline slowly draining from your system, the pain from the blows you took started to set in, making you dread the trek in front of you. As if on cue, you heard a horn honking and Fake Cap pulled up next to you, “It’s 20 miles to the airport, you guys need a ride.”

“I think we’re good,” You simply stated.

“You won’t make it with that limp.”

You gave him a crude smile, “I’d rather crawl.”

They stopped and opened the door, you exchanged a look with Sam and Bucky, silently deciding to join them.

You sat between Bucky and Sam, and felt the anger and disgust radiating off of both of them with every word that was exchanged.

“Y/N Stark,” You despised the way he said your last name, like he wanted to devour you, “You are one of the original seven, I trust you know the importance of having a strong team. I’d suggest giving a word or two of advice to your friends here.”

“Did you really just compare being on a team with you two, to being on a team with the Avengers?” You glowered at him, “A word of advice Walker, you’re not Steve, you might be holding that shield, but you will never be half the Captain America that he was. So quit fucking pretending.”

“I didn’t realize Stark’s sister had such a mouth on her,” He smirked, he knew exactly what he was doing and as much as you hated to admit it, it was working, “Vicious.”

“Go to hell.”

The ride didn’t last very long after that, and you had no complaints when Bucky demanded them to stop the car.

You opened your eyes and rolled over to see Sam still asleep on the seats across from you, and Bucky was sitting on the large crate in the middle of the jet, “Not tired?”

“Nah,” He shook his head.

You pushed yourself to your feet and hopped up next to him, “You’d think they’d make those seats a bit more comfortable considering the amount of time we spend on these things.”

He chuckled and the two of you fell into a comfortable silence. After a considerable pause he turned to you, “Y/N, I meant what I said earlier, I’m sorry.”

The dark bags under his eyes were a stark contrast from the beautiful blue that you were looking into, which you noted which had lost its luster. You noticed that his voice still had a bit of that hoarseness from earlier in the day, and the dots connected. You remembered how hoarse your voice used to get when you’d wake up screaming from the nightmares after particularly rough missions. You understood why he was awake, he didn’t want you and Sam to see him like that.

You nodded, “I know, I just wish – I was worried sick about you. I know it hasn’t been easy for you Buck, but we were good friends once and I miss you.”

“I wanted to call, it’s just been tough,” He admitted, and you reached over to take his hand, only to quickly pull away as Sam woke up.

“You two okay?”

“Yeah,” You both said. You wondered if Bucky’s super soldier ability allowed him to hear the way your heartbeat picked up from that brief touch.

Your mind was racing a million miles a minute, you had barely kept the tears in listening to Isaiah’s story, both out of anger and sadness. How? How did this happen? How was this man tortured, then brushed under the rug? How did no one know about it? Why the hell did Bucky keep this from you?

Sam mirrored your pained expression, but something darker lurked beneath his eyes, you couldn’t even imagine the rage he felt. The sound of a police siren pulled you out of your thoughts.

Your anger only grew at the argument that ensued, “I am calm, what do you want? We’re just standing here talking.”

“Just give him your ID,” You glared at Bucky as the words left his mouth.

“Why the hell should he? He didn’t do anything wrong!” You growled, at the same time Sam said, “I’m not giving him shit, we were just talking.”

“Hey, hey, look, is this guy bothering you?” The officer asked you and Bucky. Your eyes widened, he can’t be serious right now.

“No, he’s not bothering us, do you know who this is?!”

You couldn’t even stand to look at the guy as his jaw dropped in shock upon realizing who Sam was, you felt your body shake with anger, and you didn’t even want to think what would have happened if Sam hadn’t been an Avenger.

The officer returned from his vehicle and turned the tables, announcing that there was a warrant out for Bucky’s arrest.

Watching him being handcuffed and put into the car shattered your heart, if the events of the day hadn’t already left you feeling nauseous, you knew this would be the nail in the coffin. All you could see was Bucky on his knees with a gun to his head nearly seven year ago when Steve barely prevented T’Challa from killing him and the four of you had been arrested – Tony had been furious with you, but it was the shame in Bucky’s eyes that had hurt you the most, and here you were, witnessing it again.

You reached over a grabbed Sam’s hand and squeezed as hard as you could, desperate for a lifeline to keep you from sinking into those painful memories.

You maintained that same grip on the poor man’s hand as you sat at the police station waiting for Bucky to be bailed out, “Sam, Y/N, I’ve heard a lot about you two, I’m Dr. Raynor, I’m James’ therapist.”

The two of you shook her hand and Sam thanked her for getting Bucky out.

“That was not me –”

“Christina!” You’d recognize that voice anywhere from the way it made your skin crawl, fuck, “Good to see you again.”

You clenched your jaw to keep yourself from punching the stupid grin off of his face as he pointed to himself when Dr. Raynor asked him who authorized Bucky’s release. You knew you had a problem with constantly wanting to punch people in the face, it was a trait that ran in the family, but Walker’s face was definitely one of the most punchable ones you had seen – a good ol’ pop in the jaw wouldn’t hurt, right? Just one?

“He’s too valuable of an asset to have him tied up –”

That was it, that was all you were willing to hear, you couldn’t stop yourself from getting in his face and hissing, “Call him that again, and I swear to god Walker, I –”

Sam put his arm around you, hand pressed to your stomach and pulled you back, “Y/N.”

Walker simply smirked and turned back to Raynor, “Do what you have to do and send him off to me. Got some unfinished business, him and I, you too Wilson, and bring your guard dog with you.”

It took everything in your power to keep from snarling at him.

“James, condition of your release, session now,” The doctor ordered, “You two as well.”

“I’m good, I’ve been to enough therapy,” You shook your head, at the same time Sam said, “That’s okay, I’ll be out here with –”

“That wasn’t a request,” You couldn’t help but chuckle, and decided that you liked this woman.

You and Sam sat on either side of Bucky, facing Dr. Raynor as she got started. You couldn’t help but notice the way Bucky’s eyes shifted and jaw clenched as Sam tried to weasel his way out of the session, and your chest tightened. He looked so tired, and not just the ‘hasn’t slept in a few days’ tired, but more like he was tired of trying – he looked broken.

You decided in that moment that you would try, and not just for Steve, but for the man next to you who had held a piece of your heart before he even knew you, and managed steal that piece away when you had met him years later.

You realized how hard you’d have try when Bucky answered Dr. Raynor’s question with, “In my miracle, he would talk less.”

“Exactly what I was gonna say, isn’t that ironic?” You sighed, so hard.

She turned to you, mimicking the expression on your face, “Y/N, can I trust you to give me a proper answer?”

Try, Y/N, try. You saw a glimmer of hope in Raynor’s eyes as they met yours, but you simply shrugged and looked away, unable to bring yourself to open up, and she let her shoulders fall slightly.

“You guys are leaving me with no choice. It’s time for the soul-gazing exercise. Y/N, you can sit this one out, you get along with both of them well enough.”

You rolled your eyes at the reactions from the boys, this’ll be good. You couldn’t help but chuckle as they got closer to one another, maybe I should have taken part in this exercise. They made eye contact and continued to hold it, you realized what they were doing moments before the doctor did and let out a genuine laugh – earning a glare from Raynor, don’t encourage them she seemed to say.

“James, why does Sam aggravate you? And don’t say something childish.” Your head filled with a hundred different ideas about what stupid things Bucky would come up with, only to have them fizzle away at his cheeky grin towards the doctor, followed by the lick of his lip. It left your throat dry. Snap out of it, Y/N, what’s gotten into you?

He paused for a moment, his expression changing, and turned back to Sam, “Why’d you give of that shield?”

You held your breath, you knew this was going to come up, but weren’t expecting it here. You couldn’t take your eyes off of Bucky, noticing every change in his face, it becoming more pained with every word that left his mouth, and your chest tightening alongside it, until finally, “So maybe he was wrong about you. And if he was wrong about you, then he was wrong about me.”

The break in his voice cracked your heart into a million pieces. You looked up, trying to keep the tears swimming in your eyes from falling. You turned your attention towards Sam and noticed the emotion behind his glassy eyes – it was different than anything you had seen in him before, it was almost as though you could see the burden he was carrying on his shoulders, the pressure that was pushing him in every direction.

I have to fix this, you told yourself, you couldn’t stand to see them like this, I have to try.

Your mind was roaring with thoughts, you hadn’t even noticed that Sam and Bucky had left until Raynor asked, “What would be in your miracle, Y/N?”

You snapped your head towards her, then to the door, you weighed your options and headed towards the latter. You grabbed the handle and stopped, without turning towards her you whispered, “I’d find a home again, and they’d find some happiness.”

You pulled the door open, “Y/N, I don’t think those two things have to be separate.”

Her words swam in your head until you found Bucky and Sam walking outside, Walker and Hoskins storming off in the other direction.

“What’s that all about?”

“Walker being Walker,” Sam shrugged.

“So, what now?”

“Bucky wants to talk to Zemo,” Every memory that you spent years trying to forget came flooding back: Zemo using those words to turn Bucky into the Winter Soldier, who then proceeded to trash the compound and nearly kill you and your friends; watching your family fight each other at the airport and being forced to pick a side; watching the footage of your parents dying; desperately begging your brother and the man who had become your brother not to kill one another.

“You what?!” You gasped.

“Y/N –”

You stepped between the two of them, close enough to Bucky that you had to tilt your head up to look into his eyes, and whispered, “Bucky, no.”

“This might be our only lead, Y/N,” You stared up at him, silently pleading him, he reflected the same in his own, “Please Y/N.”

He took your hand and you instantly melted, “I – fine, but promise me you will be careful.”

“I promise.”

End.

Read Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 and Part 6

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