#and hes met someone he GENUINELY w his WHOLE chest wants to bottom for and he cant do it bc this bigass dude is a lil princess™️ | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

seiyasabi · 3 years

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Idolised

(Here’s a Yandere Todo Aoi x Female Reader story :P I wrote up the layout for this a while ago, and I’m currently madly in love w him, so here we are!

Thank you all so much for your support and being so understanding of my situation. I love you all so much ;)

TW: !noncon/dubcon!, !Has a whole ass shrine dedicated to you, you literally don’t know he exists lmao, !claims he's ur bf to everyone, manipulation!, intimidation!, sort of kidnapping!, !forced cunnilingus!, etc..

Please proceed with caution!)

“(Your Name)-Chan, why didn’t you tell us that you have a boyfriend?” You slowly stop chewing, chopsticks going slack in your hand. Eyes darting towards your friend Mika, you raise an unamused eyebrow.

“What are you talking about, Mika-Chan? I don’t have a boyfriend,” All of your girlfriends look at each other, unbelieving of your claim. All giggle, thinking that you’re just being shy.

“Ne~ don’t be coy! It’s okay to tell us about your boyfriend! From the pictures I’ve seen, he’s quite handsome, huh?” At this point, you’re completely confused. Are they pranking you? You don’t have a boyfriend!

“I genuinely have no idea what you’re talking about-“ The seat next to you slides out, and a hulking figure plops itself down on the wooden chair, the wood creaking horrifically underneath their weight.

Their arm wraps around the back of your own chair, practically engulfing you in the crook of their enormous elbow, “Hey, Pretty Girl. I’m sorry that I’m late, you know how late my classes run sometimes.”

You’re too scared to even turn towards the large man, choosing instead to look at your friends with a horrified expression. They don’t notice it, too busy ogling at the apparent eye candy next to you, “Uhm, I’m sorry, but who are you? And why do they think that you’re my boyfriend?” An awkward silence immediately follows after, the man’s hand gripping the wood behind you so hard that it creaks.

He forces a deep laugh, which sounds quite menacing. He moves his hand onto your back, his warm palm felt through your stylish top, “You’re so funny, (Nickname)-Chan! It’s alright, you don’t need to hide me anymore. I messaged your girls last week, they know about us.”

“Yeah, (First Name)-Chan! It’s okay! We think you’re both so adorable,” They practically fawn over the two of you, trying to push you closer into each other’s arms. The man next to you takes this in stride, practically hauling your chair up next to his. His arm is now fully around you, as you lean in close to your hair and neck. He inhaled deeply, a satisfied grunt rumbling through his chest.

“Don’t do anything stupid, (Your Name)-Chan. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll follow my every whim,” Tears of fear and anxiety bead your eyes, which your friends take as relief that you’re no longer hiding away from them.

“Don’t cry, (First Name)-Chan! It’s okay! We all support you wholeheartedly!”

The rest of the lunch consisted of you being extremely uncomfortable, and your closest friends being none the wiser. Somehow, they don’t notice how you constantly inch away from him, only to be dragged back to his side. Somehow, they don’t know how he’s whispering mild threats into your ear.

But, through this time, you learned the name of your so-called ‘boyfriend.’ Todo Aoi, the beast currently keeping you glued to your seat in fear. He’s so much bigger than you, so much faster, seemingly so much smarter.

“Bye, (First Name)-Chan, Bye, Todo-Kun! It was nice to meet you!” Your friends wave the two of you off, one of his large hands securely on the small of your back. His grip is bruising, controlling. Todo practically pushes you towards an unknown destination, your body only able to continue forward, whether you wanted it to or not.

“I’m proud of you, (First Name)-Chan. I knew my girl was smart, beautiful, and capable. This just proved it to me,” A small whimper escapes your throat, as fresh tears bead your eyes.

“Why are you doing this? What do you want from me?” A booming laugh is heard, practically shaking the ground below you, causing you to flinch.

“Why am I doing this? Well, I’m doing this, because I love you. I want us to be together, so we’re going home,” He says this as if it solved all of your problems.

“But we don’t know each other, why even bother-“

“We know each other. I saved your life, remember?” For the first time tonight, you look at him. His distinct scar immediately catches your attention- this man did, in fact, save your life. Two months prior, someone or something shoved you onto some train tracks, right in front of an oncoming train. In a mere moment, the bulky man grabbed you from the tracks, and hopped back up onto the platform, effectively saving your life.

“I-Bu-But what? We met only once, and-“ He shushes you, forcing you closer to his side, his entire hand practically engulfing your waist.

“There’s no need to worry. In that Moment, I knew that you were meant to be my beautiful Princess. You need me to care for you, and I’m up for the task.”

“Princess? Sir, I think you need help! We’ve only talked once, and while I’m grateful for you saving my life, I think this is excessive! Please let me go!”

He ignores you, sighing dreamily about what the two of you will get up to. Todo couldn’t wait to add more to your shrine at home! He’ll be sure to get as much dirty clothes, used tissues, and everything else he could ever want!

Forcing you into an upper class loft building, he guides you by the small of your spine into a lift, disregarding the old woman inside. She looks at you as if the both of you are the most adorable couple she’s ever seen, making you shift in discomfort. Todo takes it in stride, practically preening under her gaze, but pretending it has no effect on him.

He nonchalantly presses his floor’s number, before placing that hand on your hip, and rubbing it in circular motions. You try to move away from him, but his grip is solid.

Before long, the lift stops on his floor, and he pushes you out. You stumble into the area outside of his front door- his home being the only one on the entire floor. The door itself has a pin pad on its handle, which he quickly typed in, once he’s directly in front of it, leading you to believe that there’s most likely a second pin pad on the other side.

Once you hear the click of the door being unlocked, Todo moves away from the entryway, and motions you inside, “Go ahead, Princess.”

In a Moment of defiance, you shake your Head no, “I think this has gone on long enough,” His eyes narrow slightly, yet you continue, practically shaking in your shoes, “I-I don’t want to go inside. Please let me go home.”

His booming laughter fills the small space, as he shakes his head in disbelief, “You’re adorable, (Nickname)-Chan! Now, go inside before I become angry.” The bite in his final words forces you forward, into his dark flat.

He flicks on the light switch the moment you step inside, momentarily blinding you. Once you’re able to blink away the dots swimming in your vision, you’re greeted with a fairly normal sight. The living room, kitchen, and dining room are conjoined in an open concept, making the large place seem even larger. Two hallways branch off on either side of the large room, most likely leading to a master, a guest room, bathroom, and an office.

“What do you think? I read in a magazine that women like clean homes, so I deep clean this flat at least once a week.”

You aren’t sure what to say, but you nod along anyway, “Yes, it’s very nice.” He beams down at you, cheeks practically stretching to the fullest extent.

“This shows that I know how to make women happy! I believe that’s a redeeming quality,” You awkwardly give him the side eye, “Oh, don’t look at me like that, silly girl! I have many more redeeming qualities if that one isn’t good enough. Now,” He clasps your shoulder with a large hand, “Why don’t I show you our bedroom?”

“Our?” Your eyes are practically bugging out of your skull, as he nods gleefully.

“We’re a couple, aren’t we? And couples share everything with each other.”

With that, he practically drags you down the left hallway. There’s only one door at the end of the hall, signalling that this is the master bedroom. With one hand, he pushes open the door, before coaxing you inside. His hand that was previously on your shoulder migrates to the bottom of your spine. The room is a mixture of black and your favourite colour, showcasing that this room is the both of yours.

The bed is quite large, most likely to accommodate your large captor and yourself, “I thought you’d like that your favourite colour is in here.”

You say nothing, tears beading your eyes. You wring your hands in anxiety, as he leads you to the bed. He sits you down on the edge, before kneeling in front of you. Todo leans forward, resting on your thighs, all whilst still practically towering over you even when sitting.

“Why’re you crying, Princess? There’s no reason to,” He swipes under your eye the moment the first tear falls.

“Why am I crying? You must be joking! You-you just kidnapped me!” He shushes you once more, causing a spark of anger to course through you. He hasn’t listened to a single complaint you’ve voiced! “Stop doing that! It’s rude! I’m allowed to be upset-“

With two massive hands, he forces your thighs open, “I know your work has you stressed, Pretty Girl- why don’t you let me calm you down?” He pushes his hands up your thighs, your skirt barely covering your pussy, allowing his thumbs to ghost over your panty clad cunny.

You try to thrash out of his hold, pushing against his hands, “No! Let go of me!” Your thrashing does nothing, as just the weight of his forearms we’re enough to press your thighs to the bed. His left hand rubs against your clit and hole, trying to make you as wet as possible. You try to push against his forearms, but he presses down harder.

His thumb rubs fluidly over your clit in an even pressure. Your hips press up, trying to buck him off, but it only causes him to press down harder. In no time, you’re growing wet against his ministrations. You choke back your whines, smacking his arms, before pushing against his head which hovers just above your cunt.

“Do you feel that, Princess? You’re getting so wet!” He suddenly presses his open mouth against your mound, tongue matching pace with his thumb. A moan escapes your throat before you can stop it, halting the large man in his tracks. You sound so perfect to him!

In one swift motion, he yanks your panties down your legs, and tosses them onto the mattress beside you. You try to close your legs, but it’s no use. I’m seconds, he has your thighs presses as far open as they can go, and his face is buried in your pretty cunny. His tongue dips into your folds, savouring your taste, before flicking against your clit.

His tongue rubs against your clit in swift, smooth motions, quickly causing you to grow wetter than before. Your slick drips down your cunny, coating your ass and inner thighs. More moans escape your mouth, as you writhe against him.

“Sto-Stop! Oh my god-“ He gives a small laugh at your begs, eating you out faster than before. Loud slurps and ‘mms’ are heard throughout the room, as you quickly go over the edge. Your juices squirt out of your cunny, coating his chin and his shoulders in slick. A loud keen is heard throughout the room.

The mixture of your wonderful cum and loud moans causes the large man to bust a load in his pants. He groans against you, causes your thighs to tremble in overstimulation. Todo removes himself from your pussy (not before licking up as much slick as possible), and smiles up at you.

“You’re so wonderful, (Nickname)-Chan! I should’ve done this sooner!”

#todo aoi #todo x reader #todo aoi x reader #jjk smut #jjk x reader #yandere jjk #yandere todo #yandere jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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warmau · 3 years

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a sour taste makes its way down jisung's throat

he pulls the candy out of his mouth and scrunches his face up

"did this shit expire?"

renjun's lips thin, "since when have you started cursing?"

chenle harks on the grass beside the other two

"ever since he got dumped."

jisung doesn't disagree.

out of everyone to pick up on his change of habits, it'd be his best friend.

he doesn't like to admit it, but the breakup that launched the beginning of his summer has made him feel different

bitter, angry, empty

he's sure if he told someone older like his parents or a professor they'd explain that it's normal.

it's part of growing up to have to process these horrible emotions and learn to feel them less extremely.

that somehow doesn't comfort jisung at all, why is it his fault that being young makes everything feel more vivid? the shatter of the heart in his chest and all the little pieces wedged up in his veins hurt so bad.

"jisung, you'll find someone better."

renjun ties his shoelaces and gets up, he's still chewing on the taffy they brought from the corner store.

jisung follows and he's never been so awkward about his budding height more than he is now

"i doubt that, i don't think i could find anyone better than my first love."

chenle gives a depressed sounding laugh and renjun starts a spiel about how he's being dramatic and silly

the sounds gloss over in jisung's ears, he tosses the candy he'd spit out and the wrapper over his shoulder

"you shouldn't litter."

three sets of eyes turn to the voice, you stand there with your gym bag over your shoulder on a path a little way down from the grassy hill the boys are on

you look at jisung with an unwavering gaze that drops to where he assumes the candy wrapper landed

you bend down and pick it up, shake your head and walk away

jisung follows your figure through the park as renjun and chenle mutter about how you're kind of right but kind of rude

"do you know them?"

jisung asks and renjun taps the bottom of his chin

"i think ive seen them at the tennis courts."

jisung doesn't know what it is about you.

he mistakenly thinks it is dislike that breeds curiosity when he shows up at the public tennis court the next day

you're out on the court with a group of middle schoolers, showing them the right way to swing a racket

jisung leans against the shade of a tree as you go through each step slowly and then have the kids copy you one by one

when you make a sudden movement to turn in the direction he's standing, he slinks behind the trunk

this is so fucking weird, im being a creep

he doesn't have anything to do for the rest of the day, or the rest of the summer, but still he cringes at himself

i should find something better than staring at a goddamn stranger. chenle was right, im cursing way too much.

so he leaves and he doesn't come back

but he visits the park for the next week with the slight hope that your path will cross with him on accident

not that he entertains that as actual hope - just that curiosity that nips at his heel like a cat asking to be feed

on day seven it happens

jisung is staring up at the expanse of the warm blue sky and you're walking from the direction of the tennis courts, you pause to check your phone and jisung springs to his feet

he's in front of you before he really knows what to even say

you don't look as freaked out as he was scared you might, you actually just blink and then point your finger at him

looks like they've got bad habits just like me

"you're the boy who litters!"

"i don't usually litter, i was just in a bad mood that day."

"doesn't excuse throwing your garbage around."

"is that why you remembered me?"

you slip your phone into the pocket of your duffel bag and shake your head

"no, there's another reason."

jisung itches to ask why but he realizes now that this conversation is going exponentially better than it could have

you could have said something like get the hell away from me....or who are you?

"do you want to walk with me for a little bit?"

fuck, i should have just asked why - asking them to walk is weirder

"why not."

you and jisung do loops around the park - it's pretty big so by the time you're on the third loop the night lamps are coming on and the sun is slowly disappearing

you two have talked about everything and nothing at the same time

jisung asks you if you're going to be at the park tomorrow

"i teach a summer tennis course for the park three times a week, but tomorrow is my off day."

"have any plans?"

he puts his hands in his pockets because they're sweating - i should have asked if they wanted me to carry their bag while we were walking. god did getting broken up with make me so stupid too?

"are you asking me out?"

jisungs palms stick to the fabric of his pants

"i got broken up with before summer started."

he blurts out before he can take it back, you poke your tongue into your cheek

"me too."

the genuine surprise makes jisung look younger than he is and you cross your hands over your chest as if you regret sharing the information

"sorry, i have to go."

you edge around him and jisung has one million thoughts run through his brain, how he should apologize or ask for your number or suggest something that could heal you both in the snap of this one summer minute

but instead he watches you walk ahead for a whole two minutes before you turn on your heel and uncross your arms

"can you meet me here at noon?"

"tomorrow?"

jisung feels the sweat on the nape of his neck now too, matching the moistness on his palms

"no, in twenty years. yes - tomorrow."

he nods and you don't give him anything else to work with as you disappear and jisung catches the last little slither of sunlight wave goodbye with you

"are you rebounding already?"

chenle's voice comes through the headphones as jisung clicks on a zombie with his mouse and shoots it

"it's not a rebound - we both got dumped so i thought we could like...FUCK! i died dude."

chenle groans

"maybe they can help you fix this cursing problem, but uhhh it totally sounds like a rebound to me."

jisung thinks about that as he waits for you at the park

rebounding has actually never even occurred to him as a possibility.

then again falling head over heels and getting tossed aside by the person he thought was his soulmate also never occurred to him as a possibility either - especially not before he's even managed to graduate university

but using someone to feel better about himself - that just isn't him.

"oh you actually came?"

he stops staring at the grass and meets the half smile you're wearing. he matches it with a shy one of his own.

you take jisung's hand easily - as if you weren't strangers a week ago - and tug him toward the park gates

"where-"

you look over your shoulder

"we have to eat ice-cream on a date."

jisung and you have the same taste, getting the same flavor of ice cream with a hard no to sprinkles. you tell jisung about this kid you teach privately for tennis and how he's a little rich brat but his parents always tip you nicely. jisung tells you that his best friend is chenle and they met when he nearly broke an elbow on the first day of middle school.

jisung pays for your bus ticket into the busier part of the city, you beat him at a couple of arcade games, and then he absolutely crushes you at mini-basketball. you pile all your tickets together and jisung tells you to pick the prize you want.

he watches you as you scan the cheap toys and then turn to your left where a younger girl is trying to see if she has enough for a sad looking stuffed panda

you dump the tickets into her hand and grin when her whole face lights up, jisung walks out behind you and goes

"you're actually nice aren't you?"

"oh - you didn't think i was nice when we first met?"

"i-"

jisung stutters when you look directly at him

"i just mean you- it was nice what you did in the arcade."

"why did your ex break up with you?"

jisung's world sort of stops for a moment. you still haven't looked away and he gets lightheaded by the sudden question.

"i don't know."

you nod, as if the answer is what you expected, and you take his hand again and make way toward the bus

he curls his larger fingers around yours and is silently thankful you don't ask for any more details

actually you both don't say anything the ride back, even though you rest your head on his shoulder the entire time

your hands are still clasped together and jisung finds himself not wanting to let go even when you stop in front of the park again

"thanks for the date."

you unwind your fingers first and jisung swallows

"do you want to go on another one?"

you shake your head

"sorry, i don't think i can do this more than once."

genuine shock sets in on jisung's face

"w-what do you mean?"

"i know being heartbroken makes you lonely, it makes me lonely too, but i can't just be someone's summer fling and get abandoned again. plus jisung -"

you tilt your head with a small laugh

"i think you're really cute and if we do this again i will start liking you seriously."

what the fuck do i say?

jisung thinks the summer heat in the air constricts around him - especially when he can't open his mouth to answer and you give a solemn wave as you turn and start to disappear down the sidewalk

fuck fuck fuck fuck

the curses start to hurt his brain and jisung breaks into a sprint to catch you before you make it to the end of the block

slipping his hand back into yours and spinning you to face him

"im not going to abandon you. and i - i already like you so please let me take you on another date."

the words fall out like letters into alphabet soup and you stare wide-eyed at him for about a second before you lean in and kiss him

and jisung forgets the entire language he's spoken since he was a child, curses and vulgarity gone with it

the second date comes and goes, then the third, and then the fourth, fifth, and sixth.

jisung watches you give tennis lessons and you even tug him onto the court one day to help with picking up the scattered balls off the court

the younger kids you teach really adore him, tall and smiley, they cling to him more than they do to you

and there really isn't any way you can stop them because soon enough you feel that urgency to be near him always too

it might be because jisung is so different from your ex, and you are so different from his

the reality is that when you finally tell each other what happened before your respective summers started

it turns out - it's almost exactly the same

jisung looks up at you as you lay across him in the tall grass of an empty corner of the parks sprawling fields, your tennis equipment abandoned and his shoes sitting beside yours in a lazy heap

"they just told me one day i wasn't enough."

you bury your face in his chest and sigh

"maybe im not, maybe something about me is still missing."

the tenor of his voice is sad and you put both hands on the grass to lift yourself up above him, you stare down into the prettiest eyes you've ever seen on a boy in your life

"shuttup park jisung. nothing is missing from you. you're enough."

he gives you a goofy smile and you want so badly to smile back and kiss him but you take the moment seriously and add

"remember when you asked me if i only remembered you because i caught you littering like weeks ago?"

the furrow of his eyebrow is enough of an answer

"i said there was another reason."

he sits up and you fall gently back against his knees and lap, jisung opens his mouth as if to ask what it was but you put your hands on both his cheeks before he can

"that reason was because i could see all of you - people tend to be shrouded in something, but it was all on your face the moment you made eye contact with me. jisung - you're the farthest person i know from being incomplete. you're you and no one else."

the weight of your words comes crashing down on you a second later and you get up off of jisung in a fit of embarrassment

even though you meant what you said it felt like something of a wedding vow than something you say someone you've been dating for only a month

but jisung just breaks into a bigger smile - he pulls you back down into a hug that gets you both covered in grass stains

"im so happy"

you smell the fabric softener on his t-shirt and suddenly wish you could slip it off of him and put it on yourself

his hands tighten around you

"i always thought the other reason was because i was ugly or something."

you scrunch up your nose and tell him to be quiet, but jisung just laughs and buries his nose in your hair

the rest of the summer is smooth and the happiest one you've had so far - and jisung, who had thought it would be hell, agrees

renjun points out that he hasn't heard jisung even utter the word 'damn' since he started dating you

and chenle cuts in that it's true - now whenever they game jisung just groans into the mic (or abandoned the game completely to fool around you with - as it is in chenle's imagination)

you notice it too, and you notice how everyday jisung grows further from the heartbreak that he had festered on for so long

and just becomes more open with you

on your last day at your summer job and what feels like the last day of summer in general, jisung picks you up with balloons

you both hand them out to the kids you worked with and keep one shaped like a big red heart tied around your wrist as you two walk through the dimming evening of the park

fall is coming, your shoulders shake and jisung pulls you closer into him, and when he stops suddenly

you see that you're in the place where you first met - when jisung had let that candy wrapper tumble down a grassy hill and you had picked it up with disdain

"is untying the balloon and letting it float off considered littering?"

he asks and you think for a second

"probably, it'll get stuck in a tree somewhere and we don't want that."

he looks down and leans in to kiss you gently, letting your lower lip sit between his teeth for a moment before he pulls away

"can we do it anyway to make the moment special?"

you look at him, eyes clear as day, and answer

"every moment is special with you."

jisung manages to get ten of those red balloons through the door of your shared apartment on your tenth anniversary

you fret about how balloons are bad for the environment, but still launch yourself at him in a big hug when he gets them all settled into your living room

he catches you, laughing as you both muse that you can't believe it has been ten years since you met

"and i haven't cursed once since then - can you believe it?"

you roll your eyes and say yeah sure, like he didn't curse when he stubbed his toe on your bed this morning

he pouts his lip and asks, "play along ok - just say i haven't cursed once."

"you haven't cursed once in the ten years we have been dating."

something twinkles in jisung's eye and you bite back your lip

"exactly - so is it ok if i curse this one time and say-"

he fishes something out of his pocket that looks like a small box, you think your breath catches in your throat

"i fuc-freaking love you - will you marry me?"

#i know this is read from jisung's perspective in the beginning but i didn't know how else to get across the like cursing thing #if i wasnt writing from his kind of vision but like the turning point shifts to the reader #anyway none of you give a fuck so ill stop talking #nct scenarios #nct dream scenarios #park jisung #jisung scenarios #jisung au #jisung imagines #nct imagines #nct dream imagines #nct dream au #nct dream #sfw #cursing/#nostalgia

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mitsubitchiee · 3 years

Text

Sweet and Spicy lol

Pairing: Mammon x f!MC

Cw: smut (pretty vanilla), afab mc

Summary: porn w/o plot. but like, loving and soft porn? Lots of feelings and making each other feel good.

Preface: So! I didnt finish it. I started writing this like... 4 months ago? lmaooo i dunno if ill ever complete it at this point?? But i alrd wrote like 3000 words of it so i thought ill just post it like this. Just heads up, it cuts off pretty abruptly in the middle of spicy times hdhsh Its also not edited ofc. Ill use the fact that im not usually a writer as an excuse for this jssgp

Mammon’s bedroom door closed behind them as the two walked into the space, her feet headed straight to the couch in the middle of the room. She let out a yawn, stretching her arms just about ready to flop onto the sofa when she felt arms wrapping around her middle. Sighing, she leaned into the heat pressing against her back, resting one hand on his and the other combing through his hair. Mammon had his head buried in her shoulder, taking in her scent that had always soothed him.

“Thanks for having my back down there… What would I do without ya?” His voice was muffled by her shoulder but she heard him loud and clear as she felt soft lips pressing against the skin near the base of her neck. She hummed. “Just another day, right?” she chuckled, turning in his arms to face him. He was tired. It was one of those days when it was all too much for him, the witches, his work and his brother’s relentless insults.

Most days he could take it, he would take it, whether it was because he knew he deserved it or because he was just so used to it, he wasn’t sure. But something changed when she came. She showed him kindness that he had never really been treated to before. She touched him so gently, so lovingly and he didn't know how to take it. When she kissed him, he could’ve sworn he still had his angel wings fluttering behind him. He had never noticed just how tired he was. He never stopped to see how the insults had really affected him until she came. Until she brought the whole world around him to a stop and made him feel like the center of her universe. She looked at him like he was the most precious treasure in all three realms and she cried at the scars that he didn't even notice he had. And then he couldn’t stop noticing it. He felt it every time he was insulted and every time the witches extorted him, every time someone took advantage of him. He learned to recognise it, and every time he does, he just wants to be in her arms. He wants to be held and to be doted on and cared for and ...loved. And he loved her with every fiber of his being, even when he knows he isn’t good at showing it, even when he doubts that he is worthy of loving her, he could never push her away. He would take whatever she was willing to give him even if it's just -

“You okay?”

Mammon hadn’t noticed how he was leaning onto her hand that was holding his cheek. She saw his face turn into the familiar shade of red as he nodded. She smiled, giving him time to speak. “Can I…” his eyes averted and she had a feeling she knew what he wanted, but let him finish anyway. “...can i kiss you?” Her smile grew and she felt her heart grow in her chest. He had never made a move without her consent, never without asking and maybe that was the reason she felt so safe with him. But she needed him to know that he could ask for or initiate affection whenever he needed. She gently pushed his cheek to get him to look at her before closing the distance between them. As their lips met he felt the breath that he had been holding escape in a sigh, melting into the touch. He felt her hands snaking into his hair, pleasantly scratching his scalp the way she knew he liked. His hand that was resting on her waist made its way to the nape of her neck, cradling her head that was tilted up to reach him. In that moment he felt an immense wave of love flood over him. This human, this tiny, fragile human was the source of his comfort. His human was there, standing on her tiptoes to reach him, hands combing his hair to soothe him, kissing him as if to tell him everything is alright and there's nothing but the two of them in this universe.

He bent down more than he already had, letting her feet rest comfortably on the ground. Without breaking the kiss, he gently guided her to the back of his sofa, lifting her to sit on it. She squeaked a bit in surprise before pulling back with a laugh. Both of her arms wrapped around his neck, keeping him there with his forehead on hers. “Did that make you feel better?” She nuzzled her nose against his, feeling the delightful breath of air that escaped him when he chuckled. “Not yet. I might need one more” his tone was playful, but his eyes were genuine and almost pleading. With a hum, she connected their lips again, revelling in the feeling of his lips against hers, tasting hints of whatever sweet desert they both had after dinner. Teeth grazed her bottom lip, biting gently on the soft flesh, asking for permission. Mammon was never the quietest even in tender moments like these. Her head spins at the sounds of contentment he makes no matter how many times she had heard it before. In the heat of the moment, she couldn’t help her own whimper and she found herself rotating her head, wanting more of him. Her hands travel down his chest, caressing his sides. A growl escaped his throat, feeling his greed slowly growing inside him. He wanted more.

The two separated, gasping for air but a smile was plastered on their faces, eyes half lidded and pupils blown. “Mammon…” she bit her lip where he had done so before, her hands tugging at his leather jacket, urging him to get it off. He chuckled, pleased at her eagerness, letting his jacket pool on the floor under him. He basked in the way she ran her hands down from his shoulder to his exposed arms and finally to his hands which she took to her lips, placing kisses on his knuckles. He swallowed, somehow more flustered by this innocent gesture than the make out session they were just having. She loves me. The thought sent him reeling and his heartbeat picking up. He watched her hands reaching to the back of his neck, pulling him closer so that she could nibble on the soft skin on the base, pecking anywhere she could reach. Fuck, she loves me. Trailing up his neck, she gave a teasing tug to his earlobe with her teeth, kissing the spot right after. She really-

“I love you” her voice was a whisper right against his ear, effectively knocking the air out of his lungs. He grunted, eyes shut tight, forehead pressing against her shoulder. He couldn’t handle this. “Ya drive me crazy, y’know that?” Before she could answer, he picked her up and carried her to his bed. She giggled, holding on to him tight before she felt herself being placed on the bed, her back resting against the headboard. Her eyes locked on to his as he made his way closer to her. “I love ya too” he grinned, settling down with his legs straddling her thighs, making sure he doesn’t rest his full body weight on her. Being so close, it took all he had within him to not take her right then and there, but he had to be sure she wanted it too. As if reading his thoughts, she guided his hand to rest on the skin just under her shirt, sighing at his coldness on her warm skin. She brought her face close to his so that he could feel the words she would say. “Then show me,”. At that, he let go of his restraints and let himself indulge in the desire to touch her, to taste her and to let her know just how much he loved her.

A chaste kiss quickly turned heated as he felt her hands roaming his body. The soft caress of her fingertips on the skin of his abdomen sent shivers running down his back and he couldn’t help the sound that came from his throat. He pulled away from the kiss, bringing his lips to her jaw, down her neck before separating to let her pull his shirt off. One of her hands rested on his waist, drawing circles with her thumb while the other traced the outline of his jaw. “You’re perfect, Mammon” she sighed, taking in the sight in front of her. Mammon huffed, not knowing how to respond except to go back to kissing her neck. He nibbled and bit into the spot he knew has her gasping each time and sure enough, she gasped, her hands gripping his waist trying to ground herself. He drank in all of her sharp inhales, her sighs and her whimpers as his hand traveled up her tummy, circling to her back and tugging on the clasps of her bra, getting them loose. A moan ripped through the air when his hands cupped one of her breasts, teasing her nipple. The sound egging him on even more, finally pulling her shirt and bra off, tossing them away.

“Gorgeous” He breathed, continuing his trail from her collarbones, hands roaming her top half, not wanting an inch of skin to be left untouched. She didn’t bother covering up her sounds, knowing just how much he liked hearing them. His growing erection didn’t go unnoticed as she cursed under her breath, feeling him harden against her. Her hand slipped in between their two bodies to feel the bulge over his jeans and she bit her lip, feeling herself getting excited by the thought of him. Mammon whined, rutting against her hand begging for more friction. His lips didn’t stop their descent down her front even as she unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his jeans, trying to pull them down impatiently. He slipped out of them swiftly, tossing them away. Before he could do the same to hers, she had wrapped her fingers around his length, causing him to hiss. Slow strokes up and down his cock had him gritting his teeth, a hand resting on the headboard beside her head to support himself and another gripping her shoulder. “Fuck, babe” He moaned her name as her hands stroked the head of his cock deliciously. “So pretty, Mammon.” He had his lips slightly parted, pretty sounds escaping from it, eyes intoxicated and his beautiful toned body bare, just for her. It’s a view she could never get tired of.

With a grunt, he pulled away from her touches, panting lightly, ignoring the throbbing in his member from the sudden absence of friction. “Let me make ya feel good first” he looked into her eyes, searching for even the smallest bit of discomfort but all he saw was her nodding, her lips pulled into a shy smile. "Mmh, please" she sighed as cool air made contact with the skin of her bottom half once Mammon helped her out of her pants and underwear. With a little ushering from his hand, she spread her legs, feeling both embarrassed and excited by him being able to see all of her. A hand slid down her folds and she could feel herself tighten from that touch alone. Heavy breaths escape her as he traced up and down, thoroughly soaking his fingers with her wetness. "Fuck, you're this wet already" Mammon growled, feeling himself twitch at the thought of her getting so wet because of him. Only him. He prodded at her entrance before feeling his finger almost being sucked into her heat. He curled his finger, searching for the spot she liked best. "S-shit" her head was thrown back, grunting at the feeling of his long finger inside her knowing just where to hit. Another finger was pushed in and she swore her fingers could never do what he did to her. He kept his pace slow, focusing on her reactions wanting to pleasure her more.

Shifting his position, he brought his face near her core and she could feel his breath so close to her. He licked a stripe from her entrance up to her clit, moaning at her taste and the loud gasp that he heard coming from her. "Mammon…" she felt her walls clenching on his fingers as he continued to lick her clit over and over, her hand tightly gripped on his hair and pushing her hips up to grind against him more. His tongue drove her crazy, flicking and sucking at the sensitive bundle of nerves all the while his fingers rubbing at the sensitive spots inside her. He feasted on her like it was his last meal, greedy for more of her sounds and eager to please. The fingers inside her never stopped pumping in and out, gaining speed over time. “Y-your tongue, fuck!” the hand she had on his head pushed down, a silent beg for him not to stop. He felt her walls tighten as she sang his name, cumming around his fingers. Mammon made sure to catch a glimpse of her face as she came, before slowly pulling out of her heat. He sat up and pressed his palm over her hole, still feeling her throb and easing her out of the orgasm. “That’s it, baby. Ya taste so fucking good”

She opened her eyes as she calmed down, seeing him lick off the mess she made around his mouth. A wave of affection took over her as she pulled on his arm, guiding him closer before joining their lips together. She tasted herself on him as his tongue met hers. Mammon felt his chest being pushed gently and he pulled away. Next thing he knew, he was on his back and she was on top of him, peppering kisses down his chest. He writhed at the words of praise that were whispered against his skin. “You’re so good to me, Mammon. You know just how to make me go crazy for you” her hand was already on his dick, stroking slowly up and down. She hummed, pleased at how hard he had gotten, feeling her mouth start to water.

A kiss to the tip of his leaking head had him groaning, propping himself up on an elbow to look at her. His other hand combed through her hair, gesturing how good she was being as her lips parted around his cock, sucking and licking the head. Her tongue traced back and forth along the bottom of the head before taking more of him into her. He was big. So big her jaw opened near its limits when she took him in and out of her mouth. She stroked the length that she couldn’t fit, feeling a little irritated at not being able to take all of him. With a groan she shifted her position so that his cock was angled straight to her throat. Mammon watched her intently and his breath hitched as he realised what she was doing. He sat up so that he was resting on his ass instead of his elbow. She took him into her mouth again, all the way to the back, wiggling her head to get him deeper, to have all of him inside her. His hands clutch at the sides of her head, assisting her down to the base, his cock twitching at how eager she is to take him. The press of his cock at the back of her throat made her eyes water, but the loud moans that left Mammon made her want to keep it there. She looked up at him, mouth still filled, and he felt his pride swell at the sight of her. “Holy shit, baby. Ah... You’re taking me so well- mmmh... fuck” His voice was hoarse and he spoke between moans. She bobbed her head in shallow movements, loving the way he bucked his hips and moaned praises her way.

She lifted her head slowly, coughing as she pulled out before looking up at him, licking her lips. “Yummy,” her voice was rough and she was breathing heavy to catch her breath. He took her face into his hands, brushing back the stray hairs stuck to her forehead. “My good girl, taking all of me like that. You’re so good to me” Feeling a gush of wetness escape her at his words, she climbed on top of his lap, rubbing herself on his cock earning her a low growl from Mammon. Their lips meet again in a passionate kiss, needy, greedy for each other. Her pussy felt so awfully empty, desperate for him. “Mammon...please, i need you” in any other situation she would have been embarrassed at the desperation in her whine, but she couldn’t bring herself to care about that right then. Mammon wanted so badly to be inside her too, he only growled in response before guiding his tip to her entrance. She slowly sinks herself onto him, back arching, mouth gaping and hands clutching his shoulders to keep balance. A drawn out moan escaped her when her hips were flush against his. He had his face buried in the crook of her neck, cursing at the tightness around him. For a moment they were still, relishing in the feeling of being connected, arms wrapped around one another, bodies pressed against each other, pure bliss. His lips scrambled to find hers, his feverish need for more only slightly satiated from the kiss.

Use your imagination for the rest ;) ⭐ ...i am so sorry but i did warn you it was gonna end abruptly

#mammon smut #obey me smut #obey me thirst #obey me mammon #yeah... idek what to say...#i tried to write smth ok!!! that counts for smth right?#o-<-<#mitsu's thirsty

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whosjunglejim4322 · 3 years

Text

Umbra | J. Seo (m)

》 Genre: vampire au! Smut, fluff, minor angst and mentions of violence, This story also features Yuta, Taeyong, Jaehyun, Jungwoo, Doyoung and Mark as his coven members

》 Warnings: spitting, dry humping, mentions of blood obvi, mentions of feeding, strong boy trying not to fuck you into oblivion, his eyes get black he's when he's hungry/horny, disgusting amount of fluff, omg sorta strength kink? Johnny is very in love w you and very protective cause some of his brothers are out of pocket, Jungwoo wants to b ur bestie lowkey, Yuta is a lil shit

Chapter 2

There are many things that Johnny loves about you. He could spend all his time showering you with professions of his adoration, and he'd never grow tired of it. Though, his concept of time and yours are slightly different.

He's patient, excessively so sometimes, in your humble opinion. But, he also never expected in his three hundred and forty five years of existence, to find someone who manages to warm his cold and stagnant heart in the way you have.

Now, anytime away from you is a bit bothersome.

It's just, he never knew humans like you existed. In his world, there are either those who lust after his kind and the benefits in which their heightened senses and skills provide, or those who see him as a complete moral abomination.

Even now, in a society that has to live in conjunction with vampires, there are still so many people who fear him. Well, they fear what they think he is. A creature of the night, a demon, something that is only greedy for strife and nothing more.

You were the first person who genuinely throttled him, curious and wide eyed, completely fascinated by him. And not in a way that made him feel like he was under a microscope, but in a way that made him feel as though he was something...to be admired.

Your heartbeat, even after a year, still flutters like the wings of dragonfly whenever he displays his strength; swinging you up into his arms like you're made of feathers and all things delicate.

At first, he thought you were scared, weary, perhaps, about his abnormalities. He couldn't find any other explanation for the way you seemed to shrink in his presence whenever he'd dip his head below your chin to grace your throat with his lips, cooling your hot skin.

It didn't make sense. Not until he realized there is a direct correlation to your change and scent, and these moments in which he can be himself around you.

You like it. You like that he's different, a complete opposite to what you'd find in the common world. If he thought he could be any more enamored, anymore breathless than he was before (no pun intended) he was wrong.

Even now, with you lying with your back against his hard chest, playing with his slim fingers, your voice is nothing but earnest. Curious, in your own little world that consists of just you and him.

He thinks, no he knows, that if he had a pulse it would be racing every time he's around you. Every time you ask him a question that would normally repulse anyone else, even when you place his cool palm against your blazing cheek, giddy about the difference in temperature. He can tell that you just want to know more about him, about how he exists in the world. He simply can't resist indulging you.

"So...everyone doesn't taste the same? I always just assumed that blood is, well, blood." He smiles to himself as you trace shapes into his palm, before flipping his hand over and grazing your fingertips over his protruding knuckles.

The feeling of your skin against his is so pleasant he almost gets distracted.

"Well, it depends, really," his free hand strokes up and down your arms, savoring the softness. "sometimes the difference is slight, like someone who's A or B negative, but other times it can be quite stark. It's about chemistry really."

He can already see your expression in his head, furrowed brows, lips pursed in a manner too cute for your own good. He absentmindedly pushes you further against his chest, reclining slightly against the pillows as to make it more comfortable for you. You hum in satisfaction.

"Chemistry? Like how you feel about the person?" He can't quite pinpoint what is laced within the lilt of your voice, he answers nonetheless, chuckling warmly.

The sound is like pure velvet, causing your skin to tingle. You shiver, and he pulls your blanket over you, worried his lack of body heat may be disturbing your comfort. He doesn't realize how wrong he is.

"It's more like, how that person has lived. Their natural...how do I say...essence? Yes, their essence sometimes can determine how desirable some ones blood is to us."

He doesn't miss the way your heartbeat falters in rythm. He grins, as you take both of his hands in yours and intertwine your fingers. He twists his wrist and brings your knuckles up to his lips, kissing your skin.

You shift underneath the covers, suddenly thankful for his cool temperature. You know that most of the vampires that exist in society use blood bags from the banks provided, but you still wonder...

"Am I...am I desirable to you? Like, my blood, or whatever." You wish you could say you usually aren't so bad at speaking when you're around him, but that would be a blatant lie.

It's the most endearing thing he's ever witnessed.

His hands are gone from yours and elsewhere in the blink of an eye, one strong arm locked around your torso as his free hand reaches down to cup your chin. He turns and lifts your head towards him, gently, and the look in his eyes has your breath stalling momentarily.

"Of course you are, silly," he says it as if it's the most obvious thing ever, leaning down to peck your nose. Butterflies swarm violently in your belly. "I desire you in every way there is to desire someone, it makes me want to keep you all to myself. No one else should be allowed to even think about you, or your blood, in that way."

He looks lost in thought for a second, pupils almost darkening the whole of his irises, before he seemingly brings himself out of his daze. You turn in his hold, adjusting your position so that you're practically lying on top of him, chests touching and your legs cradled between his hips. He holds you effortlessly in his arms.

"Well it wouldn't matter anyways, cause I'm all yours." His pearly teeth show from behind the pillowy surface of his lips, as he leans in to kiss you in a manner that has you reaching out to wrap your hand around the nape of his neck.

"Mhm, all mine." He murmurs, nose nudging against yours as he shifts back and forth from your top lip, and then your bottom, tongue exploring the surface of each.

Kissing you, is another experience entirely for him. He wonders if it feels for you as it does for him, like pure intoxication. It brings back memories, memories he didn't think could still be reachable in the depths of his mind.

A time where he was warm, where life thrummed through his veins like the rushing current of a river. You are springtime on his tongue, the rays of sunlight that once heated his skin, the smell of flora in the air that mingles with the fleeting breeze.

He almost whines when you depart from his mouth, yearning already heavy in the pit of his stomach.

You look almost nervous, suddenly finicking with the front of his shirt as you sit back on his lap. He can hear the acceleration of your heartbeat, can smell the anxiety that is almost as heady as your desire.

He reaches out to cup your cheek, something he often does as a comforting gesture. You smile softly, meeting his curious, tepid gaze.

"So...I have a question," your voice shakes and you huff. "I mean, I was just wondering," he senses your struggle, wrapping his arms around you and sitting up so that your chests are nearly touching again, his palms splayed against your lower back.

"You can ask me anything, sweetheart. You know that." His voice, as sweet as honey, calms your racing pulse for a moment. Until you actually say the words out loud, wincing as if preparing for a scolding.

"Well I know you have a family, of sorts, from what you've told me. And I know you've always been really...hesitant to tell me more about them? I mean I've never been over, to your home or met them,"

Understanding washes over him, hands rubbing your back soothingly as the glint in his irises provokes an odd sensation within your belly. Like he knew this conversation would have to be had one day.

He lets you finish speaking, though your voice has even more of a tremor than before, now.

"Sorry if I'm making you uncomfortable, I understand if you don't want me over there."

Urgency calcifies in his chest, the sad lilt to your soft voice making him feel ill. The way you say it is as if you think he doesn't want you in his space, like he's keeping you away from there because of something other than rational reasoning, doesn't sit right with him.

He cups your jaw, firmly but gently.

"I want you with me as much as possible, never think that I don't want you. That is not at all why I haven't brought you over there," You have no choice but to believe him, when he's looking at you with such a passionate gaze far heavier than what you're used to in a normal setting, his words concise.

"I am...well I'm old, and so are they. I've spent a long time being alienated, far before we were even accepted in the new world. We've settled here since before you were born, so you won't remember what it was like when people were forced to live along side us."

You hate hearing the unusual grain of what seems to be dejection in his tone, though you listen fervently anyways, his hands still comforting you despite the fact that his eyes are the ones cast down. You want to kiss the furrow between his dark brows.

"I've accepted who I am, furthermore I've accepted who I want to be. I realized that, it would do me no good to be a monster if people were willing, even if begrudgingly, to accept our existence. But my brothers,"

Your stomach sinks at the way he says it, knowing without a doubt that this is the answer to your original question, that his stance had to be explained before he told you something like this.

"they don't feel the same way as me, so they are stuck in their ways beyond coercion. They live very different lives, they are what our kind refer to as nightcrawlers, it's sardonic inside joke for those of us that would rather not conform to the new age of mutual concurrency."

"They are still a bit resentful for the fact that they can't exactly give in to their natural instincts. They don't see the humans acceptance as welcoming, they see it as a mockery. Do you see where I'm coming from?"

You look a bit out of it, like maybe you're frightened and he's suddenly worried he's gone overboard, that he's scared you in a way that can't be fixed. His eyes are suddenly frantic.

But then you speak, and you don't sound vexed, nor unsettled. Your question is simple, your thighs tightening around his waist as if to draw yourself closer to his comfort, arms looping around his shoulders.

"Do they all feel that way?"

He smiles, muscles untensing as you play with his hair in the way you usually do. Your eyes never leave his, and he wonders how he got so lucky.

"The youngest, well the youngest in our years, they're a bit less malicious about it. They don't cross anyone unless someone crosses them, but they can be excessively territorial because of their youth."

The tension, despite talking about a topic so heavy, is light again. You feel a bit silly now, understanding why he might not want you in close proximity with his coven.

But, still, knowing that there are people, for lack of better term, that have been in his life unimaginably long; a completely different, solidified version of a family, it makes you more nosey than usual. Could they really be that different from him?

"And...you're sure that if I were to meet them, it would end badly?" His eyebrow twitches in an inquisitive manner, surprise coloring his sharp features.

"I- well I thought you were just curious, I didn't think you'd actually want to meet them. Especially after all of that,"

It's as if he's speaking to himself out loud, his pink tongue flicking out to wet his lips. You resist the urge to kiss him so suddenly.

"but I don't suppose so. It's already established that you're mine. If there's one rule we follow, it's that. They know how I feel about you, despite our differences."

The sturdiness to his voice when he speaks of you being his, has your belly filling with heat at an irrational rate, and you suddenly remember how it felt to see him before you actually got to know him.

He's incredibly intimidating on the surface, firm and stoic. You can't see how anyone would want to anger him.

"So then I'd be safe, meeting them. And I'd get to see if you guys really have furniture."

Despite not needing to, he swallows. It's hard impossible to say no to you, when you look at him like that and sound so genuinely interested at a prospect that would make any other person run for the hills, even cracking jokes.

You're soft, and too innocent for your own good. He should say no, but to risk seeing a pout form on your soft lips, or having to hear the disappointment in your voice, it's unbearable.

"You really want to meet them, don't you?" He can't fight his smile when your face lights up like that.

"Well, I think it's important. They're your family, one way or another." You're gentle when you speak, honest.

"You're safe with me, you have to know that. But they're...not used to being around humans that aren't just accessories. The last thing I want is for one of them to say something that makes you uncomfortable."

It's evident in the low timbre of his tone that he's serious, and any smart person might listen. But as he said, and as you believe wholeheartedly, you're safe with him. Safer than you'd ever be.

And, as wrong as it may be, you want to see what other vampires are like. You're really only used to Johnny, the exception, where as most modern vampires only come out when absolutely necessary. Meeting him, and falling in love with him, has given you a brand new sight towards the world. Is it that insane to want to meet his brothers that have been so close to him for so long?

"I'll be with you, so it won't matter. I'll bet they're not even that scary, no ones scarier than you."

Your triumphant, playful smile has him grinning from ear to ear, leaning down to capture your lips between his own. Even though you're wrong about them, he's weak. Too weak.

"Yeah? Afraid I'll eat you for breakfast?" His breath is suddenly against your earlobe and you shudder pleasantly, grasping onto his shoulders before regaining some sort of composure.

"I'm definitely dinner, breakfast is really overrated. Unless it's breakfast for dinner, that's way better for some reason?"

He's kissing you again, despite the fact that he's smiling too hard for his own good, swiftly flipping you over so that you're caged underneath his body. His weight is barely perceptible even with your chests touching, forearms holding himself up.

"You'll be the death of me, you know that?" He has a hard time speaking without strain due to the way his throat has suddenly tightened with need, your legs wrapping around his trim torso and pushing his hips further against yours.

"Not possible, unless I've suddenly charmed your heart into beating again." You tease, though his eyebrows remain furrowed in concentration as he kisses you between words, dangerously sensual. You smell too divine.

"Very possible, actually. If you only knew how you make me feel."

Your belly lurches at the desperation that flows from him, his aura downright fever inducing. Without thinking, your crotch nudges his, bucking with the slightest of movements. But it's enough, enough to have his jaw clenching and a habitual breath of restraint leaving his nose.

Five fingers grasp your chin, so he can kiss you, hard. His hips begin to roll as his teeth nibble your bottom lip, the fabric of his jeans an arousing juxtaposition to your soft lounge shorts, your lack of underwear making it all the more satisfying.

He's hard, too. Knowing his dick is just underneath, hard for you, it'll never not give you whiplash. It gets you drunk, knowing your effect on him is as overwhelming as his on you. You're whimpering against his tongue, rubbing yourself on his bulge.

"Mmm, fuck." He growls, capturing your wrists in his palms before your next breath, raising them above your head and making sure they're comfortable against the pillows.

He's inches away from your face now, and his expression alone is enough to have your walls pulsing around nothing, desire seeping into your chest and hardening your nipples, goosebumps forming across your skin.

He looks at you like he's hungry, nostrils flaring avariciously. He tries so very hard to fight the darkness that fills his sclera like ink, knowing how very monstrous and unlike himself it makes him appear.

But he hears the way it makes your heart race. He can practically taste the thrill that seeps from your pores, the unbridled arousal that drips from your cunt like syrup. Your neck cranes upwards to try and reach his lips, and he smirks before meeting you halfway.

"Do you want me to keep rubbing your pussy like this," he looks down between your bodies and purposely rolls his hips in an accentuated fashion. "or do you want my dick?"

His voice is brusque, but caring and accommodating as it always is, his plump lips quivering slightly from the way his mouth waters.

"Can I have your dick, please?" You return, his mouth quirking up into a sideways grin.

"Such good manners," he kisses you again, sloppily, the sounds lewd and causing you to shiver against his unwavering body. "how could I ever deny you?"

You blink, and cool air is breezing against your wet slit, the nakedness sending a wave of tingles through your nerve endings. Before you can look down, you feel his cock against your clit, smooth and rounded tip gathering wetness from your hole before circling it over your clit.

He uses one hand to keep your legs parted for his viewing, fingers softly gripping your flesh as he sits back on his haunches. You feel impatience crawling up your throat, toes already curling as your bud throbs and your walls ache.

He's so pretty, he is raven hair against olive skin, an onyx sky against shimmering stars. Your hands reach out for his hips, delicate but fierce in their strength. He rubs his shaft against your folds, before prodding at your entrance.

He always watches your expression when he first slides in, the way your mouth falls open and you are suddenly this beautiful, agonizingly worked up thing. He bites down on his bottom lip as his eyes flicker from your pussy, lovlier than a flower and welcoming him with a squeeze, to your face.

Your eyes are bleary as they stare back up at him, your breathing already erratic. His lip curls with the need to hiss, to ravage you. But he takes it slow, he loves watching you fall apart too much. And you're so wet around him, moaning his name like it's the only word you know.

"Johnnyyyy, oh - umph." He rocks into, gracefully and with a deliberate curl. You claw at the front of his tee shirt, pulling him down to your face.

He eagerly obliges, meeting your lips with a soft smack, the angle only pushing him deeper within your body. His pace has increased, the front of his thighs colliding with the back of yours. His mouth somehow remains steady, as if he's not fucking you like he is.

He's parting from you sooner than you'd like, but you know he likes to fuck you like this, able to see all of you and savor it. It's still the most incredible thing he'll ever witness or experience, he's sure of it.

He can't believe a creature like him could be so lucky, here with his manhood buried to the hilt inside of someone so breathtaking, so innately divine. Your essence is thick and wet, coating his shaft each time he pulls out.

"Such a pretty pussy, so fuckin' pretty baby." His voice is gruff, nose twitching and eyes black. You wrap your fingers around his strong, sturdy forearms as his hands grip the softness of your waist. His lips purse and a string of spit dribbles down your clit.

"Ungh, oh my- ohhhhh Johnny please please." You're not sure what your begging for, and it doesn't matter. Because he'll give you whatever it is you need before you know you need it, already hooking your legs over his broad shoulders, gripping your jaw and pushing it up so that he can mouth at your sensitive neck.

"Mmm, I got you baby, I'm right here," he takes your earlobe in his mouth before marking your throat, licking and sucking. "I can already feel your belly tensing sweetheart, gonna make a mess for me?"

All you can do is nod, eyes squeezed shut and hands exploring his firm abdomen while he pushes himself all the way into you; rocking his hips back and forth to make sure the tip of his cock is rubbing that sweet spot inside of you. Your clit is being stimulated in the process, and you know you're not going to last long.

He knows it too, and his thumb is suddenly on your swelling bud, rubbing you in circles faster than you can comprehend, but with just enough pressure to have your nails digging into his back with fervor. Having unbreakable skin must be a plus, in his case.

You're tensing more now, twitching even. Your energy is buzzing around him, electric. Your heart pounds like a drum, rattling against your ribcage and causing blood to thrum viciously throughout your veins. His thrusts become a bit more frantic, his senses completely overcome with you.

He's so lost in his own pleasure he doesn't even hear you cum. He feels you go limp underneath him, back arching off the bed and your walls spasming around his cock.

He realizes now that you're trying to shove your face in the pillows, a silent sob ripping through your body. He's pulling you to him, and you're suddenly in his lap, as he comforts you with a soothing coo.

When you move your face from the crook of his neck and he's met with your teary eyes and damp skin, he's thrown off the edge.

Your forehead is against his as he bites back a snarl of sorts, pumping into you from below with as much restraint as he can muster as to not overwhelm you since you've just cum as well.

He has to move his hands away from you for a quick second, opting for the bed sheets instead while you cling onto him and kiss his cheeks, his jaw, his neck. He feels selfish, but he also doesn't want to crush your hip bones in such a state.

Your breathing is still uneven, even after several minutes and once he's sure that he's in his right frame of mind, his arms are around you again.

Your body is sweetly ravaged by his mouth, lips leaving a wet trail over too much skin in such a short amount of time. You're still sensitive, wincing as his enthusiasm causes you to shift on his lap.

"Oh." He uses one arm to wrap around your middle, slowly pulling you off of his dick and lying you down against the comforter.

You whine at the loss of contact as he disappears, returning in a blur with a warm, damp cloth. He's in between your legs, wiping away your shared mess and muttering soft sorrys when he's just a smidge too rough. You're still embarrassed by his need to take care of you like this, bashfully looking away.

You don't realize he's gone and returned until the covers are being thrown over your body, his arms securing you to his solid chest and his lips against your ear.

"You need sleep, don't argue." He kisses the back of your head and you smile to yourself, snuggling further against his figure. You feel like you're being warmed from the inside out, despite how cool his skin is against yours.

"M'not gonna argue, you made me tired," The thump of your pulse and the shy lilt to your voice satisfies him, and he wishes that he could make love to you all over again.

"When will you take me to go meet the others?" Your speech is already slightly slurred with sleep, a yawn following. He sighs, kissing behind your ear.

"Give me until tomorrow night, I need to discuss a few things. Then we'll go, I promise."

He wishes that this could be a more exciting prospect for him, that in the back of his mind he weren't, for the first time in a long time, genuinely worried about how his brothers might react.

It's got nothing to do with his capability. Without question he will keep you safe, his strength is comparable to the eldest and he'd forge fire if it meant having you whole and in his arms.

But his coven, they're different than what he knows you're expecting. He knows that because of primal, and ancestral rules that they will not lay a hand on you.

If he's honest, it's more so what might come out of their mouths that worries him. He can't have them slip up and say something they're not supposed. It'll kill him if there's even one crease of worry or sadness etched onto your pretty face. He won't allow it.

But if it's important to you, it's important to him. You're here, asleep in his arms, and he's certain that if he had a soul, he would trade it if it meant another lifetime of your existence.

•

Johnny isn't next to you when you wake up, which isn't a particularly uncommon occurrence. It's just that normally he'd let you know beforehand, even shaking you awake sometimes just to mumble a be back soon in your ear, despite the fact that you're half asleep.

You reach over to your bedside table to grab your phone, clicking it on and feeling a bit less tense realizing he's left you a message. You smile.

Sorry I had to leave so early, sweetheart. I'm speaking with my brothers and getting some things taken care of. Don't worry. I love you and I'll see you soon. xx

He must be serious, about the way they behave. It's not that you don't believe him, you'd just rather see the positives, in whatever way you can. It's a little bit startling to think about today, if you're honest. Especially after such an all consuming night, the sun now too bright in your eyes, the scent of Johnny still on your sheets and clothes.

You feel anything but dark and dreary when you think of him. That's not to say he's not quite scary if you don't know him. Broad and towering, gaze low and piercing in a way that'll have you looking away nervously if he were to make eye contact with you.

But you can't imagine him as anything but what he is, beautiful and lively and kind, soft around the cold hard edges.

You stretch as you rise from your bed, joints popping as you pull yourself onto your feet. You wince slightly, realizing between your thighs is still fairly sore, ghosts of his touch lingering on your heated skin.

You and Johnny don't have sex incredibly often, at least not by normal human couple standards. It's pretty obvious why. His ability to control his strength, his desire, his thirst; in that state, as he has explained, it leaves him a little bit frayed.

It's not like you're not satisfied anyways, he's more than generous with his mouth and fingers, and despite the fact that he holds nearly half of his full vigor back when the two of you are intimate, it's still a little bit throttling for you afterwards.

The day is boring without him, quite frankly, but despite whatever you may think about it, you still respect his decision to plan ahead for your visit.

You do get it, it's not that. If anything, you just feel too safe with him. To the point where you sometimes feel invincible in his arms.

It almost makes up for the fact that you don't get to show him off as much as you'd like, as silly as it sounds. His kind can go out in the sun, but it's a bit bothersome after a while from what you've heard. He is almost a cliché in that department, most days either spent with him in doors or at night.

Sometimes, though, you wonder what it would be like if he were human. It wouldn't make a difference, you're sure of that, because he'll always be your Johnny. But the thought does venture into your mind every now and then, because of the way he speaks of his humanhood. As if he's trying not to admit how much he misses it.

You often wonder what he must have looked like when he could blush, with his vibrant smile on show, and dimples high on his soft cheeks.

A small, selfish part of you envies the people who might have gotten to witness him like that. Warm, a little uncoordinated maybe, eyes topaz in the sun. He must have been a sight to behold, throughout his human life.

Deep down, a part of you knows that, that is what this whole thing with his brothers boils down to. You're not just curious, you're madly in love with him. So much so that when he's away, it does feel uncomfortable. You never believed people when they spoke of love that way, you always thought it to be quite gross, actually.

And maybe you're just a silly little human with silly little feelings, to be so smitten after a year. But there's no going back now, he's a part of you, so of course you think about how much of him you've never gotten to see. Of course you want to meet any tangible part of his incomprehensible life, his family. Even if it's not conventional.

It leaves an odd pit in your stomach, thinking of him young and youthful, thinking of his mother and father and the life that they had created so many lifetimes ago.

You think of him at eighteen, maybe still plush in some areas not yet tainted by the work of adulthood. Had he ever been in love, back then? You swallow back the irrational bitterness you suddenly taste.

You think of him at twenty, and what he might have been passionate about. What life was even like for him. You think of his first kiss, and him at twenty four, a year before his life as what he is now, began.

Truthfully, you don't know a lot about him. It's a strange, sudden realization, but it's just never really mattered in all honesty. Because you know him, how he is now, which is all you'll ever get and is more than what you could've ever asked for.

You've always felt like it's different because his existence in itself has been so tremulous, and in a lot of ways very hard to talk about without it getting uncomfortable because of all that he has lost, or subsequently reminding him of what he is.

Never things he'd admit out loud, but definitely something you've picked up on in his expression or the wistfulness in his voice. It doesn't matter, to you; the bad parts. He's yours, and somehow you two have found each other despite so many centuries vouching on never having met one another at all. You wish you could truly express to him how nothing would ever stray you away.

You've showered and eaten an inadequate dinner by the time Johnny shows up, presence barely perceptible until he's wrapping his strong arms around you from behind.

You're used to it by now, not even flinching anymore. You melt instantaneously, placing your hands over his that are resting around your waist.

"Hi." He whispers, lips against the shell of your ear. You shiver and let out a giggle, turning in his grasp to get a kiss. He's on your lips before you even have to lift yourself on your tippy toes.

"Mm, hi." You mumble, hands cupping his jaw. You hum as he pulls you closer, spinning you so that you're pressed against the counter, his hand on the small of your back blocking you from the hard edge.

"We could stay here, you know," he smiles against your mouth, half teasing and half serious. "a change of plan never hurt anybody."

The idea is actually tempting.

"But I just showered." You pout, and his hands are rubbing your sides, eyes contemplative.

"You're right, you shouldn't go over there smelling anymore enticing than you already do, anyways." He says it with a grit of his teeth, as if the mere thought bothers him.

You're too distracted by his face to really absorb what he's saying, smiling up at him, practically beaming. Before he can quirk his brow and boop your nose with the tip of his finger, you kiss him again.

It's chaste, but it's sincere.

"You're so cute when you're all disgruntled." You state, throwing your arms around his neck. He snorts, shaking his head and licking his heart shaped lips lips out of habit.

"I'm not disgruntled, I just want this to go well." He replies, broad shoulders slumping. You unhook your arms from around him to grasp his hands, large and welcoming in yours. He intertwines your fingers.

"It will. Because I'm with you." It's simple, and undeniable. He knows that, and accepts defeat when he sees how truly bright the gleam in your eye is. You're his own little sun.

During the drive to his home, Johnny takes this time to give you some much needed insight on the creatures you’ll be meeting. He gives you their names, some key characteristics so that you won’t be startled by their behavior, but he doesn’t give you their ages. He simply refers to the one named Yuta as the oldest, and Mark as the youngest.

“Youngest and oldest in vampire years or..?” You ask, the corner of his mouth twitching into an amused smile at your interest. You forget to focus for a moment, tracing the planes of his side profile with your eyes.

“Yuta was my age when he was changed, but he is, in our terms, the eldest. Mark is the youngest both in the factors.” His thumb strokes the back of your knuckles where your clasped hands rest on the center console, though it doesn’t soothe all the burning questions that you’ve decided need to stay in your head, for now.

You think of mark first, something about his youth, despite the fact that he is centuries older than you, seeming a little bit less intimidating. Almost abstract, in a way. As he describes the youngest, it’s easy to picture a boyish smile, innocence. Until he throws in the fact that the ones that get changed before the brain is fully developed, tend to be the ones with more of an unsteady grasp on their more potent emotions. You can guess what that means, and he suddenly regrets ever opening his mouth.

Johnny almost debates whether or not he should turn the car around and forget about this occasion all together, growing anxious at your monotone expression and the way you are chewing the skin of your bottom lip, and not realizing you are just lost in deep thought, not perturbed or uncomfortable.

Really, you are just trying to make out what his brothers may be like. Taeyong, Jaehyun, Jungwoo, Doyoung. For some reason, it’s the thought of meeting Yuta that seems the most daunting. Despite the fact that he is Johnny’s age, not technically but anyways - knowing that he has been around for so long has you wondering how a person like that even thinks.

Maybe you should've listened to your boyfriend. No, you're brave. But sometimes you are not very smart.

You are pulled for your reverie of sorts when your surroundings become darker, gloomier in the way that the trees seem to shield the road ahead from the sun, forming a canopy from above and casting misshapen shadows across the ground.

You don’t realize you’re clutching his hand tighter until Johnny turns to look at you with worried eyes, all the stars and every wish that he could ever grant you swirling in his chocolate irises.

“Are you alright? We can turn around and-”

You shake your head in defiance, determined. You aren’t going to back out now, not when you can already see the house from around the bend, pillars high and spiraling, a wide balcony peeking out from behind the trees.

“I’m perfectly fine, promise.” you give him a soft, reassuring smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes but he knows you’ll likely scowl at him if he keeps insisting on your indifference, so he takes the car just a little bit further, rounding a bend and stalling before cutting the engine.

The house is a lot more grand that you’d previously expected, the outside still kempt but not as pristine. Mostly, you thought that it would offensive to coin their home as something dark and menacing, not wanting to contribute to the cliché. But, it does in fact feel as though you are walking into a lair.

It’s beauty is undeniable, though, despite the lack of real warmth that it exudes. Upon entering, wide open space greets you, black marble flooring underneath your boots and a staircase straddling either side of the entryway. Above it is a balcony, hanging over the foyer from the second floor.

“So I was correct, about the furniture.” You murmur, pressed against his hard side with your arms wound around his forearm despite the fact that the house is seemingly empty. You know that it’s not, though. Any living being who walked into this house would be able to feel it, the static that seems to raise the hair on the back of your neck.

“You'll have to forgive our complacency when it comes to interior design,"

The voice seems to appear out of nowhere, melodic and smooth and echoing off of the walls in a way that makes the direction of the sound imperceptible. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see someone making their way down the left staircase, gliding more so than walking.

"So many years leave us comfortable, rather than fashionable."

Two figures float behind him, while three others descend down the opposite staircase. You could've sworn you'd only glanced at Johnny for half a second, before they suddenly materialized.

The man is suddenly right in front of you, and your eyes act as if they have no choice but to meet his, your breath stalling. It reminds you of the first time you saw Johnny, how shocking it was to be faced with such inhuman beauty.

"My name is Taeyong, it's lovely to meet you." The creature flashes a bright smile, something unreadable in his sharp eyes. His quaint lips are mischievous, or maybe you're just paranoid.

You don't have a chance to respond, already surrounded by a group that seem oddly eager to meet you despite what Johnny had warned, their gate an obvious contrast to your boyfriends.

They seem to sway effortlessly rather than stand perfectly still, their proximity closer than that of strangers. The energy around them feels unpredictable, and without thought your hand tightens around Johnny's.

"Wow, she smells good." A voice muses from the group, and you follow it to find a face that you somehow automatically know belongs to Mark. His face is youthful, eyes wide and full of glee and then a bit amused, due to what you can assume is from your boyfriend glaring at him sharply.

"No wonder he's so attached." The boy beside Mark, with dimples as deep as you've ever seen, hums to his friend.

"Please, don't be so crude, children. She is our guest." This voice is authoritative, the timbre low but the tone gentle like the stroke of a feather.

The group seems to make way for him without thought, and again, you're instantly struck with recognition simply by his presence alone.

He approaches you without caution, you blink and he's suddenly right there. His hair is longer than the others, curling around his prominent chin and framing his elegant features.

"It's a real pleasure to meet you, we've heard so much about the little human that's enamored our dear brother." You can't look away from his cunning face, his eyes are almost wild in excitement, plush lips stretching across his face to reveal a million wat smile.

He extends his hand towards you, with a bit more reserve now - and the first thing you notice are the sharp, glossy black nails that are more akin to claws, formed into stilettos at the tips of his delicate, slender fingers.

"Careful." Johnny mutters to his brother through his teeth, the man giggling in amusement as he gently takes your hand in his. You hadn't even realized you'd extended it back, his skin almost colder than Johnny's if possible.

"Tsk, so worried. For what reason? Look, I'm being as gentle as a hummingbird. Her hands are so soft."

Yuta. It's undeniable, he's too confident, bemused by this whole ordeal and even more so by the way his brother has stiffened beside you, pulling you back just a fraction of an inch.

The elder sighs wistfully, allowing your hand to drop from his. He meets your eyes once more, your skin buzzing oddly.

"My name is-"

"Yuta. I-I know, I mean I guessed."

It's the first word you've spoken to any them, and your voice is shakier than you'd like, throat dry. The mans lips twitch into a grin, lashes fluttering against his cheeks as he clasps his hands together in a stunned manner.

"Wow, perceptive you are. So sure, despite appearing so meek."

You can't decipher his tone, worried that maybe you've messed up by interrupting him. He seems a bit perplexed, in a curious way. You're grateful for a new voice introducing themselves, directing your attention elsewhere.

"I'm Jungwoo," His voice is the most welcoming. "your skin is so pretty. Is that weird to say?" He mutters the last part to the slender, inquisitive man beside him, who's features are similar to that of a feline. He seems indifferent.

But, for the first time since you've arrived, you smile, an odd sense of relief flooding through your nervous system. You feel Johnny relax as well, and you glance up at him for just a moment, to see him already looking down at you.

"It's nice to meet you, Jungwoo," The jubilent vampire flashes you a smile. "all of you, really. Thankyou for welcoming me into your home."

"Of course, doll. Should we give her a tour?" Yuta speaks and Johnny responds almost a heartbeat after the elders suggestion.

"I can do that, give her some space." His voice is polite but firm, and Yuta giggles again, while the others back up a bit. Johnny readjusts his grip on your hand and begins moving towards the right staircase, turning his head to send the rest a look you can't see.

He leads you down the left corridor into a massive hallway, the walls a deep shade of plum, floors white marble instead of black like the ones downstairs.

Once you're out of view from the rest, he stills, turning towards you and rubbing his hands up and down your arms.

"I'm sorry about that, really." His eyes are apologetic and you snort, embracing his middle and kissing his chin.

"Sorry for what? I'm fine, they were fine."

He lets out a sigh, broad shoulders slumping as he does so. He believes you enough to not keep on, pressing his lips to your forehead before continuing his non informative tour.

"I wish they'd keep at least some of their thoughts to themselves," you're turning, brought down another lengthy hall with a massive picture window framing the north wall. Heavy burgundy curtains keep the sun from shining through the glass.

To the left is another set of stairs, small in comparison to the ones you've seen so far, framed with elegant railing. "this is my room, up here." He points to the door that sits right at the top of them, lonesome and heavy looking.

Your heartbeat is suddenly loud in your own ears, excitement bubbling in your belly at the prospect of being in a space that belongs to him. He senses this, and smiles to himself as he wraps his fingers around the doorknob and pushes it open.

Everything about his room is inherently Johnny. It's simple, but so very him.

The atmosphere is completely different to what the rest of the house provokes, the floors a deep cherry red, hardwood. A round, red rug sits in the middle of the room, a leather sectional nestled in the corner to the right. Beside it hangs rows of shelves with a multitude of books, more than you'd normally see lounging in some ones room. He's probably read them all three times over by now.

He has a television, which shouldn't make you giggle as it does. It's far bigger than necessary, taking up almost all the space on the eastern wall. There's a door almost adjacent to the one you entered from, which you presume is the bathroom.

"I love it, it's so comfortable in here." You muse, trotting towards the sectional and throwing yourself on the massive sofa. He chuckles, sauntering towards you and lifting your head so that he can place it atop his lap.

He can't lie to himself, it makes him ache in the most pleasant of ways to have you here, in a place that has been his only real peace since he's met you. Well, scratch that. You are his only safe haven.

"Yeah?" He replies, scratching your scalp lightly, studying the softness of your features as you gaze up at him, elated.

"Mhm, it feels like stepping into a different house entirely. Not that I have an issue with the interior design." You playfully mock his brother Taeyong’s earlier words, and laughter bubbles from your boyfriends throat.

"You don't think it's too melancholy? The house, I mean."

You shake your head indifferently, hair ruffling against the material of his jeans that are covering his thick thighs.

"To be honest it is quite....vampire-y, but it's elegant. And big. And knowing you live here makes it not seem so dark."

His hands are suddenly cupping the area just underneath your arms, effortlessly pulling you up so that you're straddling his lap. Your thighs find their place immediately, knees squeezing his torso.

"You're too good. Too pretty to be in a place like this." Despite his tone his eyes are formed into crescent moons from his smile, and you don't fight the urge to kiss him.

"Shush, or I'll battle you to the death." You mumble, his nose nudging your cheek as he tilts his head to move in a steady rythm with your mouth.

"Mm, think I beat you to it." He teases, and you can feel his smile. You're not in the frame of mind to scold him for that one.

Naturally, without even thinking, your body heats up fast from the way he kisses you. Even if he's trying to be chaste, it always ends up with a flame being fed by his tongue. His scent, the sensation of wholeness when you're surrounded by him.

Especially now, in the comfort of and quiet of his room when all you can hear is the smack of your mouths, steady and calculated. You're encapsulated by everything that belongs to the person you love.

A soft push to your shoulders has you humming in confusion, you're still not back on earth when you break apart to see the contrived, reluctant expression that twists his face.

"We can't - not here." He strains, very much so aware of way your hips are planted so firmly against his, the sweet scent of blood that rushes like a current through the area between your thighs.

You pout, and instinctually he's cupping your face between his palms, kissing it away. His fingertips graze the shell of your ear.

"Don't give me that look, you know why I'm saying no. If they thought you smelled good before, you'd be the finest of dining options if you walked down there wet."

Your body pulses with arousal, arousal that he can practically taste on the tip of his tongue. A petulant whine slips from your throat, while your palms graze his hardening length through his jeans, and his cock twitches.

Fuck. He really can't deny you, can he?

552 notes · View notes

kenmei · 3 years

Text

-ˏˋ FOREVER N THEN SOME! ˊˎ-

♡ gn!reader x kozume kenma

cw: pinch of angst (to fluff !!!), romance, slice of life, crying, established relationship!au, timeskip!au

synopsis: in which he’s actually more traditional than he leads on

wc: 2000+

notes from mei!

ive had this idea rattling around my skull for the longest time

sixteen and a handshake. a standard, normal handshake, but still awkward.

you remember how his hand perfectly fit with yours—how his palms were searing hot as they met with your much colder ones.

you remember him, as a second-year, as the setter for the team you cheered for from the stands. you remember his flushed cheeks when you kissed him on the cheek for a first time, watching as his brain malfunctioned as the rosy hues on his face spread to his neck and the tips of his ears.

you remember him, as the captain, worn out and exhausted at your doorstep.

you recall how he slumped onto you, making you somewhat drag him to your room. half because he really was that tired, and half for his own amusement.

you know him. you know him a bit too well and it’s both a blessing and curse.

because you wonder if he’s finally grown out of it—of this.

looking at the empty spot beside you, you think that, perhaps, he really has—the signs are staring right at you. lately, you’ve been sleeping in a cold bed, waking up to yet again another empty penthouse as you figure he’s at the office again.

(you hope he’s at the office, at least).

texts replies are always hours apart. it seems like he’s been doubling up on streams. friday’s that have always been reserved for two since forever, have only had one person attending these past few weeks.

this is sad, your chest clenches dejectedly at yet another morning where it’s only you. looking around, a part of you wishes that kenma’s actually here, that any second now, he’s going to emerge from his game room, rubbing his eyes tiredly as he scratches his tummy.

because even if you both don’t talk as much as you used to, it’s enough for you simply when he’s present. it’s enough for you when he mutters a good morning, waddling past you to go make his coffee before sitting on the couch.

it’s enough for you when he’s here.

the absolute bare minimum can make you the happiest, but you wonder if even that is too much.

twenty-four and you’re still overthinking.

“just talk to him!” your friends say, but truly it isn’t that easy. even if you’ve both promised to be better at communicating, something about this whole situation makes communication feel so much more difficult.

“you’ve been together for so long, you both still aren’t married?” if you’re being honest, it does bother you sometimes and you wonder if maybe, you should just get on one knee instead.

but you don’t. you don’t because you and kenma already both live(d) like you’re married. you both still share(d) that dynamic of being a laid-back couple who deals with problems as they come.

you don’t think about marriage with him because it already feels right. you don’t mind not getting married and honestly, you’re pretty sure kenma isn’t that kind of guy.

you’re startled by someone poking the side of your head.

your head turns to see kenma, brows slightly furrowed as he analyzes you.

you shake your head, sitting up straight on the couch. “’what’s u—wait, aren’t you supposed to be streaming right now?”

kenma nods his head, plopping into the spot next to you. “ended early. chat was being rude today.”

your head bobs in understanding as you try to find words to piece together. he must be frustrated, you know a little bit about how difficult it can get as a streamer and you also know him, that if he doesn’t want to be near you or hear you, he simply wouldn’t be.

you smile slightly, “t—”

“why are you so tense?” he questions, leaning back. his eyes study you and you feel like hiding.

“’m not.” you defend, shrinking.

“you are.” he replies, “what’s wrong?”

you hum, grabbing a throw pillow and falling onto your side, opposite from him. “class was hard today. your paparazzi found me at the grocery store—”

“that happened last week.”

you groan, because fuck, you really can’t lie to him. he’s too good at getting you to open up, no matter how hard you resist it.

“it’s stupid.” you pout, covering your face with the pillow, already feeling your wound up emotions spiraling back up to the surface.

kenma’s hand lands on your legs, situating them over his lap. he pats the side your calves, humming. “talk to me.”

“what about you?” genuinely, you feel like right now isn’t the best time to talk about this. “you were just telling me about how your chat was being rude!”

“that can wait.” he replies, patient, like he’s always been. “something’s been bothering you, no?”

yes. you think. but i don’t wanna talk to you about it ‘cuz i’m scared.

“are you tired...” fuck, you think, because once again, he’s getting you to talk. “of—of me?”

he’s always been good at this. somehow always getting you to say whatever’s clogging up your mind. he reads you like an open book and you hate it, because even after all these years, it’s still scary.

it’s daunting, because he knows so much about you. if he wanted to, he could pick you apart all too easily, knowing exactly what buttons to push to make you break and that’s scary. it’s terrifying, even.

you feel his hand, as warm as they’ve always been, slide under the bottom of your loose pajama pants, warming up your ice cold skin.

and the feeling is weird, because you feel like you’re on fire, yet his hand is still so much warmer than you.

it’s comforting. you’ve both always been touch-starved and kenma knows this, he knows this as he traces small shapes on your calves, the hem of your pants riding up a bit.

“why would i be tired of you?” he mumbles, eyes moving to see your face is still very much covered with the pillow.

you shrug, leg twitching under his feathery touch. “you’ve been distant and stuff... i dunno.”

and it feels like he’s back at square one with you. kenma feels like an idiot for not realizing sooner, cursing himself for being so caught up with work (and something else) that he’s been neglecting you.

you’ve always been a bit of a crybaby, only him and your close friends know this.

he notes that you tend to cry even when you both have the smallest fights, and it’s something he’s used to.

so to know that you’re holding everything in, it makes his chest tighten.

“i’m sorry, angel.” he says, quiet. “work’s been busy.”

yes, work is busy. even if he finds it enjoyable, it can get taxing sometimes. but he’s also been looking around for something, something that he needs perfect.

“‘s okay.” you mumble and he knows he’s fucking up even more. “i just miss you.”

he tugs on the bottom of your shirt, “c’mere.”

you shake your head and he ponders on what to do.

because even now, even though you’ve both been together for so long that existing with the other is literally needed, there are times when you both get stuck—where existing together feels more complex than it should ever be.

“please,” he pleads softly, “i miss you.”

and if you’re not gonna come to him, he’ll come to you.

so he leans down, forcing you to hold a bit of his weight as he lays atop you. he pulls the pillow away, wiping the few tears away with his thumb.

he kisses your cheek.

twenty-four, you let yourself cry because you’ve missed him so much. seeing other in the evenings or exchanging a few short words doesn’t do it for you anymore, it never will.

another kiss, but on the other cheek. i’m sorry.

another for your forehead, then one more on your nose. i love you.

your hands cling to him and he smiles, caressing your hair. his head lays in the juncture of your neck, frequently wiping your tears with his thumb.

he makes you sit up, only because he wants to hold you.

with your back to his chest, his warm hand envelopes yours. he doesn’t make you face him, because he knows that wouldn’t make you feel comfortable.

it’s only when he hears your crying subside, that he holds your chin, making you look him in the eyes.

“are we okay?” he mumbles, his lips so close to yours you can feel his breath.

it still gets to you. he still gets to you like you’re both still teenagers; your heart thumps in your ears, body burning because fuck, he’s really close to kissing your lips.

you nod, “’m sorry. didn’t wanna talk to you ‘cuz i was scared.”

his lips slot against yours and it’s gentle, your mind becomes fuzzy with a warmth only kenma can provide you. he chuckles when he pulls away, your lips chasing his.

“don’t worry about that,” he says softly, “i might’ve accidentally made it harder to approach me.”

you shake your head. “thought it was just my overthinking.” you fiddle with your fingers, “i didn’t wanna make a big deal out of it.”

“next time,” he says, “make a big deal out of it. you gotta talk to me, angel.”

you whine, feeling embarrassed because you’ve gotten this lecture from him so many times.

kenma sighs against your skin, wondering if now is the right time. it feels like a good time, but he doesn’t want to waste a special moment because of a good feeling.

“what’s wrong, ken?” you ask, tilting your head back onto his shoulder.

your eyes are red, you’re still sniffling every now and then.

he smiles, hand travelling to his pocket as he pulls out the ring, holding it in front of you. “this is why i was so busy. t—the box is in my gaming room, though, fuck—”

“is that—”

“w—wanna get married, y/n?” his whole face is red. you giggle at his shaking hand as you hold out your own (shaking) hand.

“yeah. i really wanna.”

and you’re crying again as he slips the ring on your finger. the diamonds sparkles at you and you can’t help but fawn over the ring as you sob.

“crybaby.” he mumbles, kissing your cheek. he nuzzles into your neck, arms wrapped tightly around your midsection. “i love you.”

and it’s here you realize that kenma is a lot more traditional than you thought. memories flood in of him always getting you to watch the first snow with him through his window, forcing you under the kotatsu with him as he shows you a new game he started playing.

eighteen. for your two year anniversary, he took you to a place with love locks. signing one off with you before throwing the key god knows where. and you remember thinking it’s weird, because the month before that, he was telling you stuff like that is kinda phony.

nineteen. you recall him grumbling about getting into a yukata for the festival, but grumbling even more when you gave in and said you’d both attend in normal clothing, because he’s already halfway in the yukata, why would he change? (he just wanted to wear one with you).

twenty-two. his persistence to keep you awake to watch the sun rise on new years.

you realize kenma follows traditions more than you do and you chuckle.

giggling, you hold your hand out where the diamonds on your left ring finger shine happily, tilting your head to kiss him yet another time.

“i love you.”

change. you know your daily lives aren’t going to be much different, but you both like how your last name will be the same as his.

twenty-four. he proposes to you so casually that some might find it weird. but you both aren’t ones for big gestures. you know kenma loves you, it’s in the way he moves your hair out of your face as he asks you if he can still make it up to you.

and he knows you love him, when you laugh and tell him he already has—when you intertwine your fingers with his and kiss the top of his hand, kenma knows and you know, too.

forever it is.

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bangtangalicious · 3 years

Text

the glow up | pjm (3)

pairing: jimin x reader

summary: after going off to college, you & your best friend committed to working out. a year later, the results show, and you cant wait for your hot hometown friends to see you. now all you wanna do is wild out and have lots of sex, and enjoy it without feeling insecure

genre: smut, childhoodfriends!au weightloss!au (is that a thing) friends-to-lovers!au

word count: 1.7k

warnings: dry humping, sleep sex/wet dream, feverishly rough sex, choking, technically dubcon but she was genuinely fine with it, slut shaming, cheating (?), basically jimin fucks you hard but he thinks he’s dreaming, creampie, unprotected sex

part 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 masterlist

You woke up, the events of the morning seemingly like a world away. You became conscious suddenly to a warm presence snuggled up behind you. Jimin and you had talked for a while before returning to the party. You stayed back late helping him clean up until you both passed out from exhaustion.

The tension had been uncomfortable. Jimin decided not to bring up Taehyung’s outburst, and you too avoided the topic entirely. It was too confusing.

Jimin’s arms were wrapped around your hips tightly, his fingers gently stroking your stomach. He was totally knocked out, you could tell by the way he whimpered slightly when you tried to move. You sighed, trapped by him completely. You tried to wiggle your way out but as you shook your hips you felt something graze against your ass.

He was hard. Really hard.

Your eyes widened, unsure of what to do. It wasn’t his fault, you knew morning wood was a thing, and seeing how pressed up the two of you were, it was bound to happen. You tried to move again, but it only caused him to press even more into your soft flesh. A shaky breath left his lips at the contact. His hands loosened and slowly began sliding down your bikini bottom. You gasped.

“Jimin what are you doing” You hissed. No response was heard, all you felt was Jimin’s cock desperately prying for freedom from his trunks, now against your bare ass. He slowly rolled his hips, humming in pleasure. “Jimin. JIMIN.” He was still asleep, you realized.

You could move, but you knew if you moved now he would wake up, and then he would ask what happened. And you really didn’t want to have to deal with that. Or maybe. You liked the feeling.

You wondered what Jimin must be thinking about. Was it you he was fucking in his dreams? He had denied you earlier. Your heart dropped as you recalled his cruel comment about Taehyung having came in you, and that grossing him out so much he refused to have sex with you.

As you were lost in your thoughts, you didn’t realize the way Jimin’s hands had found your breasts, pulling you back into him with all his strength. You moaned in surprise. The feeling of his hands, slightly dry from the day in the pool but so large, covering the entirety of your breast and clutching it as if he was holding on for dear life.

You could feel his heart pounding against you. You wiggled your ass against him, seeing if he would react. He let out a high pitched whine, which cause goosebumps to spread across you. He sounded hot. You felt yourself getting wetter.

Apparently so did Jimin, because his hips bucked into you, his bulge dancing past your entrance in a quick thrust. You squealed at the sensation. The fact that he was acting involuntarily, following nothing but instinct, turned you on beyond reason. You felt him exhale heavily, his hot breath tickling the nape of your neck. He bucked his hips again, harsher this time, whining incessantly.

You could feel how bad his cock wanted to tear through the fabric and feel you. He thrust again. Then again. Harder. And harder. His hands clutching your breasts more aggressively each time. You couldn’t help but scream. It felt so good. He was like a dog just humping you so aggressively in heat. You felt animalistic and you loved it. You pushed back into him more, spreading your legs so he could rut right where you craved him.

His pace quickened. If anyone had walked into the room at that moment, they would see Jimin, eyes shut and lips parted, humping into your ass like there was no tomorrow, and you, pretty much naked, a moaning mess with your eyes rolling back in bliss.

“Jimin” You exhaled, turning your head as much as you could to try to see him. “Fuck, Jimin baby you feel so good”

His face was blushed pink, sweat forming at his forehead. He groaned as you spread your legs even more, allowing your wetness to seep through the fabric of his shorts. He let out a low growl.

Suddenly his eyes flew open, but he didn't stop. He was completely gone, you could see it in his expression. He his were lustful, almost frightening. He met your eyes briefly, not even comprehending who you were or what was happening before he flipped you over and yanked down his trunks. He grabbed your neck with both of his hands as he shoved his cock inside of you without any warning. You screamed out, not expecting the large girth. You were luckily wet enough for him to get inside you without too much resistence, but the speed had you crying out.

“Jimin—“ You tried to choke out but Jimin’s grip on you tightened. He fucked himself into you harshly, groaning at the way your pussy clenched down on him. He lowered himself so his chest was flush against your back as he continued to roll his hips into you. He grazed his teeth across your jaw before sucking it harshly. “Holy fuck” You muttered under your breath.

His pace picked up relentlessly, as if it were even possible for him to fuck you faster. Each thrust was practically splitting you opn. You tried to spread wider but you physically couldn’t. You were ruined under him, and you loved it. You felt yourself teasing your own edge with his cock hitting you in all the right ways. You cried out, nodding your head like an idiot, knowing full well that Jimin did not know nor care what you were doing.

You came like an avalanche, your body twitched and writhed under Jimin. You felt like you were going to lose your voice with how loud you were screaming as his pistoling cock did not give you a second to breathe. You gushed against him, your slick cum making his thrusts even easier. Before you knew it you felt him shoot hot com through you as he let out a loud moan. He buried himself as far into you as he could, pushing your face up against the headboard as his hands practically stopped your breathing. You felt dizzy, but so so good. He recoiled, laying down on top of you then, the full weight of him crushing you.

“Jimin!” You shouted as your ribs felt weak under the pressure. He blinked a few times before he suddenly jumped off of you.

“Oh my god” He whispered, looking at you, with his cum messily dripping down your legs and on your ass. You turned slowly, the soreness beginning to catch up with you. “What the fuck happened”

You exhaled, laughing slightly, “You tell me”

He shook his head frantically, worry filling his eyes, “Oh my god y/n…fuck…no. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to do this. I had no idea I…” His face reddened, “I thought I was dreaming”

You giggled, curling your finger and motioning him towards you. He obeyed, crawling into your embrace. He held you like you were a delicate piece of glass that he almost shattered.

“I know. You were wild”

“I didn’t fuck” His frustration was evident as you stroked his back calmly, “I didn’t want our first time to be like this”

“Yeah I mean, being conscious is definitely better” You joked. Jimin shook his head.

“I can’t believe my dick has just been where Taehyung’s has. EW” He shuddered, looking at you in horror. Your face dropped.

“W…what? That’s still your issue?”

Jimin sighed, stroking your hair, “Would you wanna suck my dick if I had it stuffed in someone else’s vagina the day before?”

You shrugged. You guessed you understood his perspective, but that didn’t make his words hurt less. Jimin kissed your cheek.

“Please don’t take it the wrong way baby. It was so good. You felt so good. And I want you so bad. But it’s…too soon. I still just can’t believe you’d just let someone so random touch you like that.”

You nodded, wanting to put the discussion to rest before you bit his head off in retaliation. You reached over for your phone, seeing a few missed messages.

tae: im so sorry princess

You chuckled, raising your eyebrows. Taehyung was the last person who needed to apologize here. You glanced at Jimin, who was also on his own phone, hand caressing your thigh absentmindedly.

y/n: don’t be sorry omg. wanna hang?

“Do you wanna grab lunch?” Jimin asked softly, without looking up, “There’s a new taco place that opened up near here. I know you love Mexican so”

Your heart clenched.

tae: yeah i can pick you up. u still at jimin’s?

“Jimin” Your voice wavered. You had never been so conflicted in your life. Jimin was amazing, you adored him. He knew you better than anyone else and was so so sweet. But somehow this whole sex thing was making you question your willingness to redefine your relationship into something more. You weren’t sure if it was because of how amazing it felt to fuck Taehyung, or because Jimin was being an unapologetic little bitch about your promiscuity. “I think I need some space”

y/n: yeah, sounds good. b out in a few

He turned quickly, his eyes sad. You hated that you even had to have this conversation at all, “I just need some time to myself to figure stuff out. I’m not leaving you, I’ll come back. I’m just not sure if I wanna jump into this right now”

His eyes darkened and he pursed his lips. “Oh, okay” He faked a smile and kissed your nose again, lingering. “Just text me okay. Whenever. Whenever you’re done…doing what you need to do” You nodded. You got dressed and Jimin gave you some clothes. As you walked out the door his grabbed your wrist lightly.

“Y/n” His eyes were watery, “I’m still here for you okay. Please…” He inhaled sharply, “Don’t leave me”

You gave him a small smile, “I won’t Jimin”

“Promise?”

You swallowed your guilt and nodded. You walked out to the street and looked at your phone.

tae: i’m down the curb. same car.

You grinned, turned and waved one last time to Jimin, before walking away, your fingers excitedly tapping your phone.

<-----previous next----->

A/N: ~sips water~

taglist: (lmk if you wanna be added!!) @honeyspillings @hollowtree10

#jimin smut #park jimin smut #bangtansmutcentral #btssmut #btssmutcentral #btssmutrecs #smutcentralnet #btssmutcentralnet #bagntansmutcentralnet #jimin x reader #jimin scenario #jimin pwp #bts smut #jiminsmut #bangtansmut #jimin fic

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bibbykins · 4 years

Text

Tandem Heartbeats and Close Calls

A/N: Hi everyone! I had started this little drabble forever ago and recently finished it in a half-asleep stupor, so I hope you can forgive the quality. It’s not my best work, but I do want to give the time I spent finishing it justice by posting. Also, I know a ton of people want some sort of part two or continuance for Embroidery, and I do too, so until I can muster a proper part-two, please enjoy this drabble... which is also me committing myself to a series of fight/make up drabbles for the soft yan boys. Either way, I hope you all enjoy and have a lovely day/night!

Pairing: Soft Yandere! (Embroidery) Kim Taehyung x Reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: toxic relationship, unhealthy relationship, panic attack, sensory overload meltdown/reaction, mean/degrading words, dissociation (kinda), emotional manipulation- this is not a depiction of a good or healthy couple this is an installment in the dark romance that I write for a mature (18+ since the first installment is rated as such) audience and do not wish nor intend for anyone to glorify or strive for this kind of relationship and I do not think anyone in BTS would act like this at all IRL, this is a work of fiction depicting a relationship that could not exist as such or functionally IRL,I could go on for days about this but please know that much. Also if I left out anything else I should add in the warnings I am so sorry and please let me know.

Summary: He just wanted to stand up for you and you just wanted to stand on your own. The thought of you doing anything on your own, without him, shakes him to his very core.

You hated tension. You hated anger and the silence that came from having no words to properly express emotions. Yet, here you were with Taehyung, sitting in his living room as he paced wildly, the both of you still in your work clothes. The disagreement turned full-blown fight stemming from an issue that seemed so silly to you.

You looked at your nails, chipping off the polish as you spoke, “I don’t see why you’re overreacting to misogyny in the workplace like this.” You mumbled, "And mad at me for it." You huffed, only earning a scoff from the pacing man.

“I don’t see why you’re so intent on being pushed around by lazy workers.” He seethed, “Youngmin knows better than to throw his work on you, he’s a production manager!”

You fought the urge to roll your eyes at this. You already knew that. You were just about to tell Youngmin that before Taehyung stepped in needlessly. This had definitely not been the first time people dumped work on you purely because you were a capable secretary and someone who looked like a pushover. You knew how to handle these situations, regardless if you ended up doing the work. Taehyung, however, seemed to not have any such faith in you considering the scene he made on the entire accounting floor, embarrassing the life out of you.

“That doesn’t give you the right to make a scene on my behalf.” You hissed back, "I can stand up for myself, if you just gave me the chance."

Taehyung scoffed and it made your eyebrow twitch at his patronizing demeanor, “Well, what else do I do if you’re being pushed around?” You huffed at the comment.

“I’m not being pushed around.” You tried to reason but Taehyung wouldn’t have it.

“Well, I’m the one making sure of that!” You flinched at the volume of his voice, but he didn’t catch it from his pacing while you stood, making him freeze.

“Then why are you the only one pushing me around?!” You huffed, tears in your eyes while Taehyung felt his heart crack. You had never yelled at him before, let alone cried because if him. The same realization seemed to dawn on you as you faltered for a moment, “I-I can handle things myself sometimes, you know.” You spoke incredulously, “I was a person of my own before you, do you not get that?!”

“Oh yeah? Who?” He snapped and you gasped lightly. Is this what he genuinely thought about you? Did your own boyfriend think so low of you and you couldn't see it, “I just remember you being a receptionist that cried on the phone and couldn’t be bothered to so much as make her own lunch, so what were you, if not mine?” He finished his words with a hard glare fixated at you which immediately softened at your glassy eyes with betrayal lying in your pupils

"How could you say that to me?!" You seethed, your eyes void of any affection or love for the man before you, making him freeze, “Do you know how hard I’ve worked to be who I am, and that person is not just your girlfriend, do you want me to prove it?!" Your words felt like a veiled threat, like you would leave him and he felt your words like a spear to the heart.

He could not let that happen, under any circumstances. You could not leave him. He could never allow it. You were his world, his everything, his reason for existing.

Going into panic mode, the man spoke in a hushed tone “Baby, I didn’t mean-

You held your hand up, silencing him as you shook your head, “I need some time to, you know, figure out who I am." You spoke sarcastically but voice quiet as you shuffled to the door.

"W-What do you mean?" He tried to keep the panic in his voice at bay as you slipped on your shoes.

You shrugged, "I don't know." An honest answer did make the situation less frightening for the both of you. What the fuck did you mean? What the fuck were you going to do by yourself?

Wrong answer. In order for you to leave this place, he had to know you loved him and would still continue to do so.

"You know I love you, my Venus, right?" His restraint was hanging by a thread as he watched you slip on your shoes.

"Right." You spoke, barely above a whisper.

Strike two. You didn't say it back. Why would you not say it back? How could you not say it back?! Taehyung watched his nightmare unfold at his own hand. You were slipping away from him, and for the first time, he had no idea what to do.

"I don't want you to go home this late, my love." He took slow steps toward you as your shaky hands tied your shoes, not accustomed to this kind of conflict, "I can just sleep on the couch, and you can..."

You whimpered as you couldn't tie your damn shoes. Your hands were shaking along with the rest of your form as you couldn't focus on the task at hand. You were overstimulated to say the least by everything. From the work day, to the scene, to the fight, to the brokeness of everything around you. Taehyung and you rarely ever fought and each time it was mentally exhausted, but it had never been this bad. You had never felt so sub-human and worthless. Were you just an accessory this whole time?

Had Taehyung loved you or just your company? You felt like a burden to him and just like a shitty excuse of a human all around. What the hell are you if not his? Maybe he was right.

A whine sounded from your closed lips as tears fell to the ground. Your shaky hands had paused on your laces completely, the knots tangled and resembling nothing like the bunny ears you needed. Goodness, you couldn't even tie your damn shoes correctly.

Taehyung's words evidently fell on def years as only distressed sounds and whines came from you. The word was blurrying from your tears and just being overwhelmed all around as your chest squeezed around itself and you opened your mouth to choke on a sob before two hands covered your ears, pushing your face into a familiar chest.

You fought against the embrace before falling on your bottom and defeatedly ceasing your struggles as you focused on the quickened heartbeat your partner had. Why was he so panicked? Surely you were not significant enough to make the ever cool Kim Taehyung's self-confidence shake, right? His heart was pounding furiously, just like yours, though. You thought back to his comment about tandem heart beats on your first night together. Now, the reasoning didn't sound so crazy as the synchronous heartbeats you both shared resounded between your forms. Your sobs evolved into just heavy breaths as your shoulders relaxed a bit, signaling the man holding you to pull back a bit. His hands slid down to cup your cheeks and stroked them softly, a sad smile adorning his beautiful face.

"It's okay, baby, it's okay, hm?" He kissed your forehead, eyes glossy as he pulled back, laying his forehead on yours, "I'm so fucking sorry I was being such a piece of shit." His voice shook, "Fuck, I never meant to hurt you like that, I didn't even mean what I said. I was just fucking projecting because I was nothing until you came into my life-"

"What a lie." You sniffled, "You have always been Kim Taehyung, campus prince, successful businessman, a fucking CEO- board member- whatever." You sighed out, "You've always been something-"

"None of that meant anything to me, barely does now, I never cared about anything until I met you." He breathed shakily, "I love you so much and you brought so much color to my world and I felt like all I had to offer you was protection and I have no damn idea how to be of use to you while you're so effortlessly the focal point of my existence."

Your breath hitched at this, "I-I… What the hell are you talking about?" You huffed out, "This whole night I have felt like such a burden, like I was just a pet for you to look after, like I would be nothing without you- like you said-" Pain flashed across his face. He did say that. He didn’t mean it, but he said it and it affected you.

"Shit, I did not mean that at all, please believe me." He begged, voice cracking, "I am nothing if not yours, I can't take care of myself without you, my life is nothing without you in it." You opened your mouth to protest but he continued after a heavy breath, "I remember you as the receptionist who didn't care who liked her and who didn't, but you were still so shamelessly human and it was, and still is, fucking beautiful to see, you are so dedicated and hard-working. I felt the only way I could even get involved with you was through anonymous lunches because I was too cowardly to just approach you. Why would you like me to begin with? You never once needed me, but I have spent years now, needing you so shamelessly and it makes me feel so small when you don't need my help and I lash out like a child about it and say things I don't fucking mean, at all." He took a deep breath, "I love you more than anything, more than life itself, and I never want to make you feel like anything less than a fucking goddess and I'm so sorry I fucked up so bad." You couldn't find words as he gave you a short kiss on your nose before pulling away, averting his eyes as his cheeks glistened and he focused his hand on your shoes, "If you still need time on your own, I understand, and...and I will respect that." He spoke softly, defeated, as he gently undid the tangle of knots on your left shoe before beginning to tie it correctly, "Is that too tight?" He murmured.

You shook your head, tears heavy on your cheeks, "Stop, Tae-Tae." You pleaded softly but he could hardly register your words until you laid a hand on his, making him look up at you.

You studied his face, tears fresh on his cheeks with stains beginning to dry from previous ones, "Baby?" His voice was so broken.

"You can just take off the shoes, I-I want to lay down." You looked at him as he met your eyes with hopefully ones, "With you. I want to lay down… with you." He nodded before gingerly taking your shoes off, as if to give you time to change your mind, "I love you Tae-Tae, I really fucking do, and it's so scary because I want to be perfect for you like you are for me and I feel like I keep falling short and so to hear you say that earlier it just…" You shrugged, not sure how to vocalize how you felt.

He sighed, "I really didn't mean it, but it doesn't change the fact that I said it." He began to take off the other shoe, "I do think you're perfect and I need to be better with my stupid fucking insecurity about it and stop being such a dick." He slipped the other shoe off before pulling you into a tight embrace, "I love you, so much, and I would give up everything in a heartbeat just to be with you." You held him back, giving him peace of mind after being so vulnerable.

Your body was exhausted as he carried you to his bedroom. You could barely help him as he dressed you for bed and tucked you in carefully before sliding in next to you. He cradled you delicately in his arms, not squeezing until you held him against you tighter, "I forgive you." You whispered against his chest, "I love you, I really do."

"Thank you so much, my Venus." He sighed in relief at your words, "I love you too, so fucking much." He leant down as you kissed his lips softly.

Taehyung lightly admonished himself for a moment. He nearly lost you. He could never let that happen again from his own foolishness. He couldn't live without you. He would never fuck up like that again, and he wouldn't. He vowed to never make a scene like that. He had to do that shit in private, obviously. He slipped up, but he would not be so obnoxious again.

Before he could continue to curse his stupidity, you snuggled against him, "G'night, my love." You murmured and he relaxed instantly, head cleared with only thoughts of how much he loved you.

"Sweet dreams, my Venus." He kissed the crown of your head and you hummed in delight at the gesture before he joined you in closing his eyes and drifting away into a peaceful sleep after one of the scariest nights of his life.

Thankfully, Taehyung never made the same mistake twice. Especially a mistake so critical. Who knows what he would’ve had to do if you were dead set on leaving him? Again, thankfully, neither you, nor Taehyung, would not find out. Not that Taehyung planned for you to ever find out just how far he was willing to go to keep you with him, to keep your requited love, to keep both of your hearts beating, together.

Masterlist

Donate to my ko-fi (if you want to ofc)

#bts #bts fanfic #bts series #bts drabble #kim taehyung #bts v #soft yandere bts #yandere bts #bts angst #bts fluff #yandere bts drabble

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saeyoungchoismaid · 4 years

Text

His Angel

Pairing: Mammon x gn!reader Genre: zombie apocalypse au, fluff, angst Warnings: oH bOi. Mention of zombie blood?, shooting the undead, and hm I feel like I’m forgetting something...oh yeah! ✨Character death✨ Summary: Mammon's birthday started out bad, then became one of the best birthdays he’s ever had, before going to the worst one ever Word Count: 4.3k (aka the longest fic I’ve ever done on this account...I think) A/N: HAPPY BIRTHDAY MAMMON!! Big huge giant thanks to @tooruluv for helping me come up with this plot!! A/N at the end. Lmao y’all are going to ✨hate me✨

You look down from your post on the wall to a certain white-haired male that you’ve been staring on and off at the entire time you’ve been on duty. You can’t help it though. He’s been acting strange all day and something just isn’t settling right with you.

“You might as well go check on him if you’re going to continue to be useless.” You look away from the quiet man to your partner for this shift, a pout coming to your lips.

“Check on who? I’m not useless,” you defend quickly. Maybe a little too quickly. He snorts a bit, keeping his gaze on the trees surrounding your camp.

“Yeah, right,” Lucifer responds sarcastically. “Just go before I get annoyed,” he says and lightly shoves at your shoulder. You scoff and go to argue when you realize there’s no point. He is right, after all.

Not that you would tell him that.

“I’m going to go get some grub. Want any?” you reply as you start to crawl down the ladder towards the ground. You see him shake his head, not even sparing you a glance. You always wondered what he was like before all of this happened.

You skip the last two steps and jump onto the ground, your hand resting against the gun in your holster out of habit as you walk towards the fire. “Mind if I sit here?” you ask Mammon, already taking your seat beside him before he can answer. He spares you a glance before looking back to the fire that is starting to slowly die.

“Go for it, angel.” Ever since that day at the barn when you first met, he always calls you that.

“You should probably add more wood to that,” you advise, looking away from the crackling fire to his face. The fire made his bronze skin glow with golden hues. Bronze? Is that the right color to describe his perfect skin? How does he even keep it like that? He barely has any dirt or marks on his flawless face.

“It can go out. I don’t care,” he replies gruffly. That pulls you from your thoughts to focus back on him, and not just his handsome face.

“Would you like to share what’s got you in such a foul mood? You’ve been really quiet all day,” you say softly. When he doesn’t immediately reply, you decide to add on, “I missed your lame jokes and cheesy pick-up lines. Where’s my Mammon at?” You think for a moment you see a blush but then you realize it’s probably just from him sitting so close to the fire.

“It’s my birthday today,” he breathes out, sullen eyes still staring the fire down. Your own eyes widen at that.

“What? Really? Why didn’t you tell anyone?” you ask exasperatedly. You’re surprised that he didn’t go blabbing on about it the past week. He doesn’t seem like the type who wouldn’t want to celebrate.

“It didn’t seem important. I mean, what with the trying to survive thing and all,” he grumbles out, picking up a stick to poke at the fire. You frown at this, slowly scooching closer to him on the log.

“Of course it’s important. Things like birthdays should always be celebrated, especially now. They give people hope,” you reply softly, bringing your hand to soothingly rub at his back. He tenses at first before slowly relaxing against your touch.

“I didn’t think of it like that,” he admits as he finally turns to face you. You smile brightly at him and watch as a small smile comes to his face. “Thanks. I feel better now. I’ve survived almost a whole year of this madness. I should be celebrating,” he agrees with a nod of his head.

You hum and nod your head right back at him, feeling your own smile grow. “Exactly!” You remove your hand from his back and then look to the fire, a random flashback coming to mind. “Do you remember how we met?” you ask in a quiet voice. You hear him hum and go back to poking at the fire.

“How could I forget?” he half-jokes, a hushed laugh escaping him.

Mammon is barely getting air into his lungs with how fast and long he’s been running. Where did the herd even come from? Okay, so maybe, just maybe, he dozed off for a bit but that’s not a crime! He was exhausted!

It was clearly a mistake though.

He almost runs into a tree when he hears a scream nearby. He looks to his side and finds that someone has been caught by a faster part of the herd. He debates on what to do, knowing he should just run. His group will be worried about him.

Just go. Don’t look back.

And that’s when you decide to make eye contact with him and he knows then that he has to help you. He’d be consumed with guilt if he just ran like a coward and left you to fend for yourself.

He hashes and slashes through zombies to reach you, cutting one zombie’s arm clean off when it reaches out for you. As soon as he has the ones closest to you down, he grabs your arm and takes off once again. He can tell you’re barely keeping up but he can’t slow down, not with how close the herd is.

All too soon though, you two are losing stamina and are getting cramps. And almost as if God is real, which Mammon knows by now he’s not, a building appears in the distance. “Just a little further!” he wheezes out, practically dragging you to it. Upon getting closer, he discovers that it’s a barn.

That’ll work.

He lets go of your hand and grabs the barn door, quickly sliding it open. “In, in!” he swiftly ushers, sliding the door behind the two of you. You two climb the ladder to the top of the barn after checking out the bottom, confirming that there was no one, dead or alive. The second story of the barn is the same way.

Once you both find this out, you collapse onto a pile of hay on the second story. You make sure to remain quiet when you hear the grunts and groans of zombies shuffling by the barn. “Wow, we make a great team,” the stranger says softly with a small smile, bringing Mammon’s eyes to you. He stares a little longer than he should but he’s just now noticing how attractive you are.

Maybe God is real?

“What’s your name?” he whispers. Your eyes move to his, your brow raising a bit.

“You first,” you reply just as quietly. Ah, so you’re the suspicious type.

“The name’s Mammon but you can call me your knight in shining armor,” he jokes softly, sending you a wink. He smiles when he sees you snort in response and your body relaxes a bit. Good, you’re not as on edge anymore. Man, he is good.

“Wow, I didn’t think a sense of humor could live through this,” you reply just as playfully. He chuckles in response and brings his gaze out the second-story window of the barn.

“Oh, no, no. My humor is my only good trait. Well, that and my sarcasm. And my jokes. And my puns. And my pick-up lines. Oh, and can’t forget my good looks. Also-” he stops when he hears you laugh quietly beside him, his eyes moving back to you.

And he’s never been happier that he’s still alive than at this moment.

The setting sun has rays of yellow and red shining into the barn, making your skin glow. You have pieces of hay sticking out of your hair and poking through the holes in your clothes. You have dirt and, what he’s assuming is, zombie blood all over you.

He’s never seen anyone more beautiful though.

“I see you’re very humble too,” you tease, bringing him back to reality. What did he say? He can’t remember.

“Oh, but of course,” he replies, playing along and just adding to the joke since he literally can’t remember what he said. You hum and go up on your elbow, facing him as you stick out a hand to him.

“(Y/n),” you say softly, your eyes suddenly leaving his to stare off somewhere else. He beams brighter than the setting sun as he gently clasps your hand in his and shakes it.

“Sorry, I think you’re mispronouncing your name,” he replies, feigning concern.

“What-”

“It’s pronounced ‘angel’,” he explains, smirking as he sends you another wink. You snort and start laughing as you lightly hit his chest.

“God, could you be any worse?” you joke, laying back on your back once more. You two laugh a little longer and it almost feels like a dream to Mammon. He hasn’t genuinely laughed in months.

You two talk until early morning, falling asleep mid-conversation. When you both awake in the morning, you’re pressed into Mammon’s chest, his arm draped over your hip, and your legs tangled together. You two get flustered and move away from each other but he decides then to invite you to join his group, to which you agreed.

Maybe you really are an angel. You might even be his guardian angel.

“It seems like a lifetime ago,” he whispers, fondly remembering your first encounter. You hum and place your head onto his shoulder.

“Yeah, yeah it does,” you whisper back. You two fall into a comfortable silence after that, his head eventually falling on top of yours. You two remain like that for a while, long enough for the fire to die, before you slowly pull back.

“I’ll be right back,” you whisper, noticing that some people were heading to bed. He looks up at you and you could swear at that moment he looked nothing more than a needy kid who just wanted to stay by your side.

“Okay,” he mumbles, trying not to pout but failing miserably. You flash him a smile before quickly walking away from him and the fire pit. Within minutes, you’re back with a shining smile and something in your hands.

“Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear Mammon, happy birthday to you,” you sing softly as you retake your seat beside him. His eyes move from yours to the candle in your hands. He then starts cracking up when he sees that the candle is stuck inside a can of ravioli.

His heart grows a size as he watches you sing to him, his chest feeling warm and fuzzy. “Make a wish,” you whisper when you’re done singing. He stares into your eyes for a moment, incredibly happy that he decided to relight the fire while you were gone. You almost look the way you did in the hay with the setting sun on you.

But now, you have a glowing candle in a can of ravioli for him with fireflies glowing behind you. The ‘L’ word suddenly pops into his mind but he makes sure to keep his mouth sealed shut.

He thinks about what he wants to wish for, wanting it to be meaningful instead of something stupid he would normally wish for on his previous birthdays.

“I wish-”

“No! You can’t say it out loud or it won’t come true!” you quickly interrupt, being a tad bit louder than you needed to be. Your voice draws the attention of the group, their annoyed, agitated, or curious looks diminishing when they see the scene in front of them. He laughs at your words, quickly covering his mouth.

You’re just so cute. You’ll kill him before any zombies do.

“Okay, angel, okay,” he relents, bringing his gaze back to the candle. You watch him make his wish, assuming he wishes for there to be a cure or to live for another year to see his next birthday.

He doesn’t though.

He wishes for you to live and prosper, to stay alive and see the end of the apocalypse or at least die of old age. He wishes for you to return his feelings so he can finally kiss you and hold you in his arms. He wishes he would’ve met you under different circumstances. Like you bumping into him in a coffee shop and making him spill coffee all over himself, or at school where he works up the nerve to ask you to prom.

Anything but the nightmare you two live.

You make this nightmare bearable though.

He doesn’t know what he’d do if you weren’t by his side and looking out for him.

He smiles at his wish and then blows at the candle, opening his eyes again when you softly cheer. He watches you take the candle out but before you can hand him the can, the sound of a revving car brings his attention away from you.

He turns his head to Lucifer on the wall, watching his body grow tense as he raises his gun. He starts firing at whatever, or whoever, it is. The rest of the camp instantly grabs and loads their guns, ready to fight. You two just stand from the log when a car forces its way through the wall, leaving a gaping hole behind. It didn’t take you long to see who is inside of the car. Valerius and his gang. They like to call themselves The Red Beetles. Why? None of you have the slightest idea. It’d pretty dumb in your opinion and you’ve made your point of view very obvious to them.

“Well, well, well. Look what the cat dragged in,” your enemy announces, referring to himself. You roll your eyes, your gun still very much pointed at him. Diavolo, as your leader, doesn’t allow you to kill another human being—one that’s alive, that is—unless they attack first. Valerius may have just broken the wall but he has not made a serious threat to your lives yet.

When you all remain silent and just continue to stare at him, Valerius sighs and rolls his eyes. “Well, you’re no fun. Have it your way.” He didn’t even try stalling or making any more small talk; he just slams on his horn as he reverses out of the hole in the wall he created.

This is when it dawns on all of you.

“He’s bringing Rotters here!”

“We have to leave before Biters get in!”

Everyone started shouting while grabbing their go bags, running towards the gates you normally keep locked up tight.

It didn’t matter though.

The zombies already have you surrounded and were filtering in through the hole. “Get to the ladder and get on top of the wall!” Diavolo orders. You all clamber to the two ladders you have, one of them being dangerously close to the hole. There’s thirteen of you, so you all knew it’d be faster if some of you went to the ladder closer to the zombies.

You quickly grab Luke’s hand, starting to drag him towards the horde. “(Y/n)! What are you doing? You’re going to get us killed! I don’t want to die!” Luke shouts at you. He knows better than to struggle to get away, knowing it would waste time and that you have a plan. You didn’t have to look at him to know he’s crying.

He sees you as his parent after all, other than Simeon, of course. He trusts you with his life.

You shoot at the zombies closest to the ladder, getting them all in the middle of the foreheads. “Climb!” you shout as you shove him towards the ladder. You didn’t mean to be so rough but you don’t have time to be gentle or worry about it. The others who decided to go to this ladder let him go before them, knowing it’d be wrong and selfish to climb the ladder before a kid who barely knows how to shoot.

The bunch of you at the base keep shooting at the zombies, each of you slowly moving away to climb the ladder. You being you, you let the others go before you. You’ve never been the one to be selfish. How could you be when these people brought you into their group without even knowing you? They’re your family and if need be, you’ll die protecting them.

“(Y/n)! Come on!” you hear a familiar voice scream, instantly recognizing it as Mammon’s voice. It came from above you, meaning he’s already on top of the wall. You glance over at Diavolo who is still on the ground with you.

“Go! They need their leader!” you shout at him, starting to back up towards the ladder. He brings his panicked eyes to you and gives you a quick nod before running to the ladder. You cover him from the ground, seeing zombies fall that you didn’t shoot. Good, the guys on the wall are helping out.

It seemed to be doing nothing though. There are just so many of them and you all only have so many bullets.

“(Y/n)! He’s halfway up! C’mon already!” Mammon screams. By the volume of his voice, you can tell he’s scared, terrified even. You curse when you run out of bullets, shoving your gun back into your holster. You then run back to the ladder, climbing it faster than you ever have before.

Fire suddenly comes from your ankles, making you cry out in pain. You look down to see zombies have swarmed around the ladder, their hands reaching up to scratch at your legs. You kick their hands away, bringing your hands up to the next step before hauling yourself up and away from them.

You pant as you climb, adrenaline making your limb shake. You feel the ladder shake, looking down again to see that they’re all bumping against it, ramming their bodies into it and getting their limbs stuck between the steps with how many of them there are. You quicken your pace, ignoring the ache in your ankles where they scratched you.

“Hurry up, angel! You’re almost there!” Mammon screeches, holding out a hand to help you up. Your reach for his hand, finding that his hand is shaking just as much as yours.

His hand is suddenly getting farther and farther away, wind billowing through your clothes. You see his mouth open but you don’t hear anything. Your back makes a loud crack as you land on the hard ground, making a scream rip from your throat. You can’t move as they all start to move away from the bottom of the ladder and towards where you landed, attention all on you now.

All you hear for a moment is ringing before it clears and you hear Mammon’s voice screaming at the top of his lungs. “No! Stop! Over here! Look! Come this way! Please!” You move your head to see blurry figures shuffling towards you. You blink a couple of times and then bring your eyes to the screaming voices, watching as tears roll down Mammon’s face as he tries to break free from Lucifer’s and Diavolo’s grasp to jump down the wall. Apparently, the zombies took down the other ladder too.

All you can do is smile at him despite your situation. It was only a matter of time before something like this happened to you. You’re just glad it was you and not someone else.

“I love you,” you try to say but it comes out as a whisper. You think he read your lips though because he’s suddenly collapsing to his knees atop of the wall, his whole body shaking.

“Please get up! Run!” he shrieks. Your form is blurred by the tears but he’s grateful that he can’t watch clearly as zombies swarm you and start to claw and bite at your flesh. He can, however, hear your agonizing, excruciating screams that rattle his very bones.

He’ll never be able to forget that sound.

He’ll never forget the way you looked as you lied there staring up at him.

He’ll never forget the candle and ravioli.

He’ll never forget the flirting. The jokes. The puns. The pick-up lines.

He’ll never forget meeting you, laying next to you in the hay, and watching the sunset together.

He won’t forget any of it and that’s what hurts the most.

Mammon screams himself awake, his body covered in a cold sweat and shaking violently. He can barely breathe with how heavy and tight his chest feels, his lungs feeling constricted and squeezed to force their air out.

He flinches when his lights flick on, his eyes moving to the switch to find you in your pajamas, completely frazzled. “Mammon! What happened? Are you okay?” you ask as you scurry into his room and over to him, quickly pulling him into a hug. He stays limp in your hold for a moment before squeezing you to him and starting to sob.

You hold him as he cries, your heart aching for the crying man in your arms. You want to know what happened to make him like this but his wellbeing comes first. You soothingly shush him and whisper sweet nothings in his ear, one hand rubbing his back while the other combs through his hair.

He shakes even when he’s done crying, his eyes feeling heavy from all the crying. “Mammon...do you want to tell me what’s wrong?” you whisper, gently pulling back to look at him. Your heart breaks when you see his red and swollen eyes. He sniffles, or tries to since he’s too stopped up, and then rubs his runny nose with his sleeve. You decide not to point this out, knowing he doesn’t care at the moment.

“I just had a bad dream, angel. (Y/n). Don’t worry about it,” he mumbles before slowly laying back down. You probably would’ve been flustered at the sound of the pet name, if it didn’t seem to be an accident. “You should go back to sleep. It’s late. I’m sorry I woke you up and worried you,” he mutters, brushing his problems off like they don’t matter.

You frown as you stand up from his bed, walking towards the door. His eyes start to water again when you actually get up and leave, his whole body feeling heavy and cold. He wipes at his nose again and holds in any sounds when you turn off the lights.

You leave him in a nightmare and you’re leaving him now.

He nearly jumps out of his skin when you get onto the other side of his bed, his body dipping when you climb onto his mattress. He can barely see you in the dark but he can see your shadow’s outline. He silently watches you pull the covers back and slide your legs in, laying on your side so you’re facing him.

“You matter, Mammon. Your troubles are my troubles,” you reassure, slowly reaching your hand out and clasping his hand in yours. He can’t help but smile a bit at your soft and sweet words. That’s just like you to stay with him and make him feel better. He shouldn’t have doubted you.

“Do you want to talk about it?” you ask again when he doesn’t respond to your previous words. He stays quiet for a minute but you feel his grip tighten on your hand.

“I, um, don’t want to go into too much detail, but...all of us were in the zombie apocalypse and...you died,” he whispers. You scoot closer to him and bring your free hand to gently cup his face.

“Hey, it’s okay. Everyone has nightmares. It wasn’t real though. I’m safe, with you, right here,” you reassure softly, scooting closer and closer to him until you’re pressed to his chest. He buries his face into your neck, his body still shaking a bit.

“I know. It just felt so real, and I-” Your brows furrow when he stops, trying to pull back to look at him but he holds you tightly against him.

“Mammon?” you call against his chest, your hands rubbing his back and chest.

“I love you,” he blurts. You both go as still as statues, both of your hearts pounding now. Mammon tries to keep you against his chest but you manage to pull away to stare up at him.

“What?” you blurt, your brain still trying to process those three words.

“Ah, sorry. I just, um, didn’t get to tell you in my dream—nightmare. I just...I wanted to be able to tell you before it was too late again,” he says so softly that you would’ve missed it if your faces weren’t inches away from each other. His eyes widen when he sees you smile, his face starting to heat up.

“Well-” he starts.

He doesn’t even get a chance to take it back, to reassure you that you don’t have to say it back, to come up with a lie as to why he said it or that he didn’t mean it. He couldn’t say anything with the way your lips are passionately pressed against his.

He lets out a whimper as he returns it, squeezing you tightly as he kisses you like it’ll be the last time he gets to. His tongue is quick to slide against your lips and slip into your mouth, a happy hum escaping him. You two stay like that for a while, sharing a heated kiss until you are forced to pull away to get air into your desperate lungs.

You two pant for air as you stare into each other’s eyes, there being just enough light in the room to do so. “I love you too, birthday boy,” you say between pants. He grins from ear to ear before crushing you to his chest for a hug.

“I love you, angel. I’m so in love with you. I love you with everything I am, that I will be,” he rushes out, wanting to get it out before he chickens out and gets too embarrassed. You giggle as you place kisses along his chest and work up his neck to his jaw before finding his lips.

“Okay. I love you too. No more playing zombie games with Levi before bed though.”

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A/N: Yes I made a The Arcana reference. It’s so funny because I wanted to do an apocalypse au because where I live there have been a lot of forest/field/etc fires so the sky has been yellow and smokey all day every day and then in his birthday event he said that he and Levi played a zombie game and I was like OH MY GOSH WOAH. Lmao I hope you enjoyed and you don’t hate me because ily

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Tag List: @mexicanmagick, @animefreak-247, @jungialo, @fanfictwarrior, @ohbbobeyme, @zeldan7, @otome-otakuwu, @fandomsarepainful, @azcela, @niphredil-14, @gamelovers-posts, @virtualmemmecollector, @collarjessie, @officialdevorak, @katelynwithpaint, & @buzzybeebee ✦ if you would like to be added or removed, comment or send an ask :)

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saladejin · 4 years

Text

Beyond Breathless | Jungkook

(cr.) Jungkook x Reader | first aider in training!au, childcare worker!Jungkook | s2f2l (not quite there), fluff and crack, awkwardness & touching, confident/bold reader

Summary: One class is all it takes for Jungkook to finally realise that yes, maybe there is someone out there who can put up with his timorous tendencies. Now, if he pays attention, he might just learn how to breathe again.

Warnings: None, shy sub kookie (he’s a mess y’all), and suggestive themes if you really squint

Word Count: 2.9k

<< masterlist

A/N: Ok so this was part of my cuddle prompts game for August 2020, but it turned into a one-shot so I decided to post it accordingly. Also this is a really bizarre take on ‘cuddle’, but it’s there all the same. The prompt was 24.) between strangers.

Took me FOREVER to write and edit because so much was going on, with Dynamite dropping and all these streaming/chart records being broken etc. but anyway I’m just in time to say HAPPY BIRTHDAY JUNGKOOK & CONGRATS BTS FOR GETTING THE #1 ON BILLBOARD’S HOT 100 💜💜

@vinterjeon this is for you wifey

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Jungkook was trying his best to stop tripping over his own damn tongue, but the pretty receptionist kept on asking him questions. Wasn't it easy to tell he was already kind of shitting bricks over here?

"The class began five minutes ago Sir, you shouldn't have missed too much," she said finally, handing the fidgeting man his papers with a smile.

Okay, let me go in then?

Jungkook nibbled at his bottom lip in apprehension when the woman continued to type something on her computer, nails dragging loudly across the keys as if to torture him further for his tardiness.

"I've notified Mr. Lee. Have a great class, Sir."

At the receptionist's gesture towards the nearby glass door, Jungkook immediately jerked into action. He muttered out a small 'thanks' with a bow and tried to take a deep breath, hating the fact that he would now hog every scrap of attention for being late to the class. It wasn't his fault traffic was bad!

Try as he might, slipping into the room silently was impossible when the door itself creaked loud enough for the neighbouring buildings to hear. Jungkook stifled a wince and took in the scene before him with wide apologetic eyes.

"Jeon! Glad that you could join us." Mr. Lee grinned, the easy-going nature of the teacher easing Jungkook's nerves ever so slightly. With a shy bow, he entered the small room and could only count six other participants milling around the empty space.

The teacher clapped his hands together, causing a few of the other attendees to jump in their skin. "Alright, I think we can officially begin."

You shifted from foot to foot, eyeing the newcomer with interest. Jeon? Was that his last name? You had to admit he was quite handsome, but also you couldn't help feeling bad for the guy. He was clearly a blushing mess of humiliation for being late, even if it was only a mere five minutes. You couldn't see any of the other attendees being all that bothered, but as you all lined up in front of the stout teacher, you could almost feel the nerves radiating off the man's body from where he stood beside you.

"Welcome, everyone, to our First Aid Course specialising in providing emergency first aid responses in an education and care setting."

As Mr. Lee reeled off his spiel in that commanding tone of his, you gradually sensed the young man next to you beginning to relax.

Half an hour in, the class had gone over the process of CPR briefly - or as Lee would call it, cardiopulmonary resuscitation - and had even taken turns in performing the procedure on a nightmarish looking mannequin. Jungkook had no idea why some manufacturers decided to paint genuine human features on some of them, but in the end he supposed it added to the whole realistic element of the course.

"Hey there, you alright?" a sweet voice piped up from somewhere in front of him.

Jungkook's form went rigid as he darted his eyes away from where someone was being instructed, flooding with even more confused self-consciousness when he drank in the sight of you. You hadn't meant to intimidate him further, but the way he was so intently focused on the teacher and student currently practising CPR on the dummy had you worried.

"Me? Uh, sorry yeah I'm fine thank you," Jungkook stumbled out, a hand instinctively coming up to rub at his neck which was reddening the longer he maintained eye contact with you. He didn't know how he hadn't noticed you before, but then he remembered how he tended to lose the ability to concentrate in general whenever he was embarrassed or nervous.

You returned his shaky smile warmly. "You just seem a little tensed up. Are you scared of Mr. Lee or something?" Whispering out the last part, you revelled in the sight of his smile widening.

He let out a quiet laugh and shook his head. "No, I just really need to pass this course. Don't want to miss anything, you know?"

You nodded but had no time to respond.

"Okay!" Lee boomed, gaining everyone's attention instantly. "You've all shown your proficiency at this. Now we're moving on to the next part of the course. Since you're all going to be specialising with children and students once you're finished here, we need to thoroughly cover choking, airway obstructions and respiratory distress since they're quite frequent in childcare settings."

You caught Jeon nodding solemnly out of the corner of your eye, and wondered why he was taking this course in particular. Teacher maybe? He mentioned really needing to pass, so maybe he even worked with young kindergarteners or infants. Eyeing his well-built frame contained within a tight black t-shirt had your mind working a million miles a minute. It was oddly endearing to imagine this moderately tall, buff looking guy caring for kids with such gentle shy eyes, and such a soft-spoken voice.

"Pair up with each-other and I'll demonstrate the choking procedure on adults first of all," Mr. Lee instructed, his bright passionate eyes flashing with amusement as he crossed his arms and waited for his students to spur themselves into action.

Jungkook's eyes met with yours almost immediately, and he had to avert them again out of sheer bashfulness. He only tried to seek you out because he hadn't spoken to anyone else yet, and the way you were chuckling softly at his bout of eagerness had his lips quirking up into a shy smirk. Well, that was decided then.

"You, be my guinea pig for a bit."

It took Jungkook a moment to process that the teacher was beckoning him forward with a sturdy finger, but you were already on the ball and pressing a hand into his lower back before his mind could catch up. Hating the feeling of being watched by everyone else, he tried to ignore the way he shuddered at the combination of your subtle touch and the several pairs of eyes regarding him closely.

The teacher began his explanation, but Jungkook could only hear the rushing of blood past his ears at this point. Why him? Out of everyone here, Mr. Lee couldn't have chosen anyone else? Thinking back, he did remember that being late probably served to single himself out in the teacher's mind. He deserved to be picked on.

Suddenly, Lee's stocky hand was pressing itself into Jungkook's chest, and he only then thought to finally tune in with what the older man was saying.

"Then, bend the choking person over slightly. Preferably parallel to the ground, but as long as they're somewhat sturdy on their feet..."

Jungkook swallowed nervously as the teacher demonstrated by adding pressure to the space between his wide shoulder blades. As embarrassed as he was, it was relieving to see the rest of the students focused on the information rather than him. Some were even practising the manoeuvre already. His eyes instinctively flew to where you were standing on your own, and a sharp tingle travelled the length of his spine when he caught you appraising him with ... interest flashing in your eyes?

W-why?

You watched as the teacher proceeded to explain how to perform a back blow, though not putting his full strength into the heel of his hand in case he hurt his student. "Do this five times, and if the choking hazard isn't removed, we can move on to the Heimlich manoeuvre - otherwise known as abdominal thrusts."

Oho?

You couldn't even suppress the way your lips pursed in amusement, and some of the other attendees around you even exchanged knowing looks with one another, trying not to chuckle at the sight of Jeon's ears flashing a bright red colour in embarrassment. God, he'd never wanted to die so badly.

Luckily, Lee spared him the mortification by keeping his demonstration to limited physical contact. He gave instruction on how to stand behind the victim before wrapping your arms around their torso - to which he only created a circle with his arms around Jungkook - and making a fist shape with your hand, thrusting it upwards into the victim's stomach to hopefully dislodge the object from their airways.

Jungkook couldn't really form a coherent thought at the moment. He was too fixated on the way your eyes were watching the whole scene intently, and he felt so exposed but he also wasn't entirely hating it. Well, maybe only if he could forget there were other people in the room, that is.

His brain on autopilot, Jungkook barely registered his feet taking him back to his original position after the teacher had finished up his demonstration. You were facing him as soon as he got there, and he shoved away the tingles in his belly to cock his head in confusion.

"Well?" you spoke, open palms coming up to urge him into action, but he didn't know what for. He whipped his head around and scoured the room to see the other pairs re-enacting their own version of the choking procedure.

"You want me to...?" he trailed off, hands fumbling in the air awkwardly as he tried to pull the words seemingly from thin air. You hid your smile with the back if your hand, not wanting to embarrass him further by laughing in his cute little face. How someone so big and masculine looking could be so shy and sweet, you'd never know.

"Yeah. Literally just the same as what he did to you." You helped the struggling man with a reassuring nod, not missing the way he was still hesitant to make any kind of movement.

Jungkook wanted to kick himself. "Sorry, I don't think I remember exactly," he sighed out, waiting for you to roll your eyes and click your tongue in annoyance. Instead, you threw him right off guard by reaching out and gently turning him around on the spot by his broad shoulder.

"It's okay, I watched what he did."

Fuck, what?

The hairs on Jungkook's neck stood on end when he heard your footsteps drawing closer behind him against the linoleum flooring of the room, but when he tried to crane his neck around to see what you were doing, you simply chuckled and straightened his jaw forward with a firm dainty hand. His breath hitched when your fingers then lingered ... eventually trailing down to lightly press against the column of his throat.

"What are you doing?" He jerked away, heart thumping against his ribcage so hard he thought he'd faint right there. Your brows only furrowed together in shock.

"Checking your throat to see where the blockage is? It was literally the first step."

You saw the way his eyes fell almost instantly, the internal berating quite evidently written on his features. "Sorry, it's my fault for not paying attention before," he mumbled and bowed his head in apology.

"It's okay. Just turn around," you snorted, thoroughly entertained. He was seriously too adorable to match the way he looked, but you supposed judging books by their covers was an outdated practice in this day and age.

Following the steps, you performed the back blow after pressing down on his shoulders to lean him forwards slightly. His muscles felt so taught underneath your hand, and you really had to battle the urge to just forget the exercise and run your hands down the expanse of his clothed back. Something told you he wouldn't protest, either.

Jungkook didn't know how to feel. His wide doe eyes fixed themselves on your hand that was splayed out on his chest, only serving to steady yourself, and he couldn't help but let his mind wander. When the heel of your other hand came down in between his shoulder blades, he physically lurched. Not because of the force, there was no way you could match him in strength, but it shocked him enough in its suddenness that a tiny grunt fell from his lips.

"Excellent form, (Y/n)!" Mr. Lee spoke up from the other side of the room. Jungkook came back to his senses and straightened his position, briefly catching your beaming smile from the teacher's praise. He just hoped to dear God you hadn't heard his pitiful whimper at your touch.

At least I have a name now.

"Okay, are you doing the Heimlich or am I?" You then turned to him, and he swallowed thickly yet again. This one he did remember a little more vividly, but envisioning standing behind you and pressing his fist into your stomach made his hands tremble slightly. He couldn't do that! What if he hurt you?

"Um, you can." He cleared his throat and gestured to you in a manner he hoped came across as confident. You saw right through him anyway, but the man was still cute, so you let it slide. As much as you longed to tease him, you were still basically nothing more than a stranger right now. Even you knew when some lines shouldn't be crossed.

Your lips curved in amusement and you motioned for him to turn around. "Okay then, I'll try not to make it too painful."

"Don't worry, I can handle-" Jungkook's sudden show of cockiness vanished as soon as your arms wrapped around his small waist. Were you ... pressing yourself to his back? He couldn't remember the teacher going that far, but here you were with a friendly smile and mischievous eyes, shaping your body to his in a way that had his breathing pattern suddenly sharp and shallow.

"Bend over a little," you directed, trying not to laugh at how you could see the tips of his ears burning a bright crimson underneath the black tresses of hair brushing just above them.

Jungkook almost shuddered at the sensation, but fought the urge in order to comply with what you were asking. It wasn't long before you were surprising him yet again by bringing your hands together into the Heimlich fist and flat palm formation, arms comfortably settled around him and fingers brushing just above his navel as you prepared to squeeze.

Amidst his inner panic, you were enjoying this immensely. It wasn't an everyday occurrence to be able to plaster yourself to someone so attractive, and so downright eager to please. You knew it was meant to be strictly professional for educational purposes and such, but the way this guy was responding to you was undeniably exciting. You'd tiptoed the line that shouldn't be crossed carefully, and he only seemed to be liking it more and more.

Considering the way his palms were sweating profusely at the close contact, he knew he was a goner.

With a quick word of warning, you performed the abdominal thrust as gently as you could while still making sure it was firm enough to lift him slightly off his feet. The sudden show of strength stunned him, but he wasn't about to let it show. He'd already made a fool of himself one too many times today as it stood.

"Easy enough." You chuckled, letting the man go quickly so he could regain control of his senses somewhat. He leaned away, but to your surprise didn't move to exit your personal bubble. In all honesty, he had no desire to part from you at all.

You inwardly cursed at yourself for flushing at the thought and raised your hands in invitation. "Did you want to try on me?"

"Ah, no it's alright. I think I have it all now." He flashed a small smile, tapping one index finger to his temple in emphasis. His reluctance confused you, but judging from his largely bashful demeanour, he most likely never planned to make any moves to touch you in the first place. It was forward of you to take the lead, but you'd be lying if you said it wasn't in your nature.

There's always next time anyway...

"That's a wrap for this week's class!" Lee's bellowing voice snapped you both out of your thoughts, and you had to blink away the embarrassment from all the shameless staring.

"Hey what's your name by the way, I don't think I caught it before." You tried to save grace with a polite, yet awkward handshake. Jungkook only felt his heart grow warmer at the thoughtful gesture.

"It's Jungkook. Sorry I should've said sooner, before you had to punch the shit out of my back."

That tore a laugh from you, and soon enough all the tension in the air had melted away. "It wasn't that hard, c'mon."

His smile, which you now adored after catching a glimpse of his bunny-like teeth, had quickly become one of your favourite things to look at. "I swear you were this close to beating me up," he joked, feeling more alive than ever.

Jungkook collected his bag from beside the door and filed out into the administration area alongside everyone else. He took a moment to eye the receptionist from earlier, wondering what might have happened if she'd told him he was unable to attend the class after all. Watching you walk away from him with a tiny wave of farewell had him resolutely believing it was fate that brought him here.

He just couldn't wait for next week.

#jungkook x reader #btsghostie #thehouseofbangtan #jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook crack #jungkook scenarios #jungkook imagines #s2l au #jungkook one shot #sub jungkook #shy jungkook #requests #salade-tb

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physicistdyke · 4 years

Text

Transed his own Gender

Dr. Harold P. Coomer is trans, he's worked his whole academic career to make his body just how he wanted it. Now, at age 46, he finally has an opportunity with his work at Black Mesa to get bottom surgery. But his colleague and friend Dr Bubby, who doesn’t know anything about gender besides the strict hetero-normative and patriarchal culture of STEM, objects to the new and risky procedure while questioning Coomers desires to put his own safety at risk all for a silly gen-dar.

rb >> likes!

Link to ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25611880

or read under cut

It was both viciously empowering and crumbled him to the core. He had a power over his own body, rare for the here and now in this space and time. Harold had felt this way many times before, an advantage that should be a right. He could relieve his own suffering, but at what cost? The lingering thoughts would stick with him, latching on like a parasite, a cancer. A hand on his shoulder brought him back into his body, a body he’s worked so hard for. He turned back to see his colleague, stoic in expression. Dr Bubby was not good at expressing emotions in a conventional manner, but other characteristics helped to convey what his face could not. Right now the pressure he was applying with his hand on Coomer’s shoulder mixed with how he avoided eye contact told Coomer that Bubby was afraid. Bubby was afraid for Coomer. “Are you sure you want to go through with this?” Bubby started. Coomer was about to reply, but Bubby’s own racing mind cut him off. “It’s a very experimental procedure you know, I was reading over the cybernetics reports-“ “Please Bubby,” Coomer turned and looked up at him straight on, he saw worry in his friend’s eyes, “I am fully aware of what I’m doing, I have done just as much research as you.” He said these words with confidence. He didn’t want to hurt his friends feelings more, but sometimes Bubby’s ego got the best of him. Bubby took a step back from the other man, as if the eye contact burned him. Harold was one of the few people Bubby could look in the eyes without that feeling, but now it felt like the island of experience between them was distant. He averted his gaze back to a corner of the room, reconsidering his own words and constructing a sentence most logical for the situation. “I just don’t understand your desire to keep going forward with this, you’re already well respected enough.” *** ____________________________________

This would be Coomer’s first procedure since he had met Bubby. The most recent before that was the operation on his chest, he had snagged that opportunity while working on his post doctorate. That was an experimental procedure at the time too, but Coomer’s endless tap of kindness and intelligence had been able to convince his friends in the medical department and their higher ups that this was an ethically sound decision. Even though Coomer himself never wished to study human anatomy, much preferring engineering and physics to biology, the circumstances of his life pushed him to learn more then he wanted to know. This study began the second he got to college, an unaware and afraid young man, he used his own body as test subject. Mixing concoctions that transformed his body and mind. By the time he was applying for his masters, he was a new man. All the insecurity and anxiousness of his younger years behind him, he now shone like the star he was. From there he made incremental and bolder steps in the process of his transition; first with the top surgery as mentioned before, and now, at the age of 46, he was arranging what would hopefully be his final procedure. Black Mesa did a lot of things, and apparently mechanical prosthetics was now one of them. The new cybernetics department had already made wondrous strides in terms of arms and legs, restoring ability to those in their ranks that needed it. These semi-mechanical, semi-flesh prosthetics fascinated Dr. Coomer to no end. About 8 months ago he had started wandering into the department more often. Finding himself asking passing questions to colleagues, asking questions from a genuine place in the heart. Dr. Coomer was open to talk about his experiences as a trans man, but a majority of his peers were always too uncomfortable to ask. They saw it as an oddity within a good man, he saw it as something that helped make him the good man he was today. The gap in that understanding stung Coomer sometimes, and the feeling of isolation sometimes crept up on him. But his smile and the passion for his studies often helped to bring him away from that space. It was about 2 months ago when he picked out a particular team within the cybernetics department, and started to have more serious conversations with them. From a scientific perspective, everyone involved was enthralled by the prospect. Combine that with Coomer's consistent fascination, confidence, and consent, they were fast approaching a place where action could be taken. _____________________________________

Bubby had noticed his friend's increased absence from their own department. Missing from collaboration meetings, not in his office or nearest break room for their usual chit chat. Coomer was an unlikely but much appreciated friend to Bubby. They had met about 10 years prior, when Bubby was nearly done the process of being titled 'a successful prototype'. Coomer was an unexpected ray of sunshine in Bubby's life. Showing him a kindness and understanding Bubby never had the luxury to live with. Being regarded as a test subject and experiment your whole life does that to you. ____________________________________

Bubby didn't know what being trans meant when Coomer first brought it up with him. Bubby, in reality, didn't even know what gender meant. He had a vague grasp on the fact that gender existed. The knowledge tubes his creators attached to him all those years ago mostly skipped out on all topics of liberal arts, humanity, sociology, etc, except for the most minimum required for him to be a somewhat functioning social life form. But what Dr Bubby lacked in those nuanced interactions and social rules, he well made up for in his ability to observe and form logical conclusions (according to his own account). He was aware of the fact that some people were referred to differently. Out of Black Mesas staff, a small minority were referred to as ‘she’. This group had a tendency to dress different from the rest of the staff, occasionally donning skirts and dresses, and varying from person to person on pigment applied to the face. Bubby viewed these people as his equal (or more so equally below him as the rest of his male co-workers, as he was still an egotistical jerk), but he couldn’t help but notice the trends surrounding this group. Bubby heard the back handed remarks, the passing jokes, the tone of superiority made by some of his male colleagues about the fairer sex. He saw the anxiety in his female colleagues when this attitude approached them. He noted the equal distribution of men to women in the ranks of visiting grad students and post docs, yet the stark lack of women in actual professional roles at Black Mesa. He saw the complacency in nearly all of his male colleagues regarding the generally accepted treatment words the ‘fairer sex’. Nearly all his male colleagues. Coomer and Bubby had been working together for a few years, and a friendship (or the closest thing to that someone could get to with Bubby) had started to really solidify. They were on lunch together, discussing the published panels from a recent convention on nuclear physics. Bubby was particularly fascinated in some newly publish findings on strange Beta decay experiments. He excitedly postulated the possibilities the results could mean for the future of the strong nuclear force. Dr Coomer was as supportive and thoughtful towards his friend as ever, but something else seemed to be occupying his thoughts. “Did you read over the notes from the panel on gender issues in STEM?” Dr. Coomer eventually interrupted when his lingering thoughts became too present. This caught Bubby off guard, but he quickly caught up with his colleagues present state of mind, “I didn’t because I saw it as trivial. I mean, it was a convention on nuclear physics, why waste time with trivial matters of progressing social etiquette?” Coomer furrowed his brow and Bubby realized he had perhaps chosen the wrong words, “Well Professor, if you had spent the time to read, you’d realize it was barely focusing on Progressing social etiquette at all. The man they chose to lead the panel was as backwards thinking about women’s role in science as the Pythagoreans were about irrational numbers.” Bubby shuffled in his chair with slight discomfort, he was never put up to the task of discussing matters like this, “Ah, yes. Well that is a shame. Pretty fucked up too… But I’m sure women will find a way to still contribute valuable findings.” “It’s difficult enough already, I’m sick of this two steps forwards one step back mentality.” Coomer was submerged in his own thoughts, barely acknowledging Bubby’s weak response. “Things have barely changed since my undergrad days. I’m lucky I managed to survive the few years I did in academia being perceived as a woman.” Bubby processed this as neatly and quickly as he could. Gender could be changed. ____________________________________

***“What do you mean by respect, Professor?” Dr. Coomer asked, cooling his own emotions. “You know what I mean, you’re already perceived as a man! You’re no longer are seen as a woman and you’re no longer discriminated against. I admire that you’ve figured out a way to jump the backwards system but-“ he was cut off by Coomer. “Bubby,” Coomer looked at his friend, trying to fathom what the hell had gone wrong in that ‘perfect’ brain of his. He finally gathered his thoughts, “I’m not, trans- because I wanted to be respected. I’m trans because I just am.” Bubby ruminated on his colleagues response, “Well fine, if not for the respect then it’s simply conformity! It makes complete sense Harold, science can be a real dog eat dog world. Anything that makes you separate from the norm is just a weight to be lifted.” “What the actual hell are you talking about professor” a tone of anger and disappointment filled Coomer’s voice, “This is some really problematic thinking you know.” Bubby gave a huff and deepened his gaze to the corner of the room, he mulled over his thoughts and tried to choose his words carefully. As much as he hated to admit it, he really knew very little about gender, but his drive to maintain the upper hand kept him from admitting that. He decided drawing from personal experience was the most logical argument to make, “I mean, that’s why I’m a man. I guess I just always assumed it was the same for you.” Coomer’s look of annoyance turned to one of intrigue, it was rare for Bubby to share his more personal thoughts and feelings. Coomer took this opportunity to prod his colleague, “Is that so Dr Bubby?”, he knew how to get Bubby in a more comfortable mindset, “Then tell me, do you feel like a man?”. “What the fuck is that suppose to mean?” Bubby sneered, “I don’t feel like a man, I just present like one. What the hell does feeling have to do with gender?” Coomer chuckled a little, realizing his friend wasn’t a complete bigot, just an idiot. “I say Dr. Bubby, it looks like your creators really didn’t connect any gender tubes to that brain of yours. Did they tell you the you were a man?” Bubby was feeling increasingly exposed and embarrassed but kept his composure. “Those bastards didn’t tell me anything! At least not directly. I popped out of the tube and they just started calling me ‘he’ and I just rolled with it. I thought that happened to everyone! Until I met you,” Bubby finally returned his gaze to Coomer. Slight tones of confusion, fear, and anger made up his expression, “I could tell that it sucked to be a woman, regardless of their extra freedom of expression with clothes and things like that. So it made sense to me that you changed your presentation to avoid the ridicule.” Coomer enjoyed pressing Bubby’s ‘think deeply about something other than science’ button, but refrained and decided to give some explanation. “Bubby, that really isn’t how gender works in the slightest! I mean for some people they’re content with what ever gender they were assigned at birth, but even then they have some sort of emotional attachment or sense of that gender. And for others, like me, they feel a stronger connection to some other gender and they make what ever adjustments feels right for them. With everyone it can be pretty fluid throughout their lifetimes, but it’s all very personal. What gender do you feel Bubby?” “I don’t feel like any fucking gender! I feel like a scientist, can’t I just be that?” Bubby tapped his foot and rolled the hem of his lab coat between his fingers. He was glad he was talking about this with Harold, but it still felt awkward as hell. “Of course you can Dr. Bubby!” Coomer beamed at his colleagues honesty, “Though I don’t think you could be considered trans though, you were assigned Scientist at Birth™.” Cooper laughed at his own joke, which in turn made Bubby relax and smile a bit himself. Coomer placed a hand on Bubby’s sholder, “Ah, but in all seriousness. It’s completely valid to not be a man or a woman. There are plenty of people like that! And it’s also ok to not have any gender at all! You can feel and express yourself however you want to Bubby, and at least I’ll be here to fully support you. I hope you’re willing to do the same for me.” Bubby looked to the side in a sheepish but calmer way, “Well, of course Harold. I guess I didn’t fully understand how much this meant to you. I’m, um, sorry for speaking over you about this.” A sorry from Bubby was a rare commodity. “It’s alright. You were worried about my well being and I’m grateful for that! You were miss informed and kind of stupid, but I’m glad you were willing to open up and have an honest conversation with me.” Bubby smiled and his gaze was finally able to align with Coomer’s again, the feeling of safety retuned and his anxieties took a back seat. “Well, if it’s alright with you, I’d love to help you and the cybernetics department in your research and development. Learn more about the cutting edge of gender confirming surgery and whatnot.” Coomer beamed at the support, “Ah! I’d be happy to include you in Project Black Mesa Super Shlong 3000! I can grab some of the blueprints we’ve been working on right now!” Coomer left Bubby’s office in an excited hurry and would return shortly. In that time Bubby reflected on the conversation. Not needing to be a man or a woman? Not needing any gender at all? That sounded really nice to Bubby. He still had a lot to learn about life outside of Black Mesa and the apparently fluid rules of gender, but he was glad he Coomer there to fill in the gaps.

#hlvrai #half life vr but the ai is self aware #coomer #dr coomer #bubby #dr bubby #bubby hlvrai #coomer hlvrai #this is a lil silly #Tried not to make it too angsty but also it has a lot of serious talk about gender identity #two fics in one year?#This is a new record #boomer #They're not explicitly dating but I gave their relationship the qualities of a real relationship so #Also don't dead brain come at me thinking I feel how bubby feels about gender #he's literally framed as wrong in his ideas but is shown compassion and capability to grow #like we all are

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marriael · 4 years

Text

Be my Latibule? (Changbin x Reader)

@skzrequests

Request: My pace 24 w changbin? uwu im a sucker for the idea of tattooist bin lmao I so vibed with this request, I love thinking about tattoist bin

Word count: 3717

a/n: part of the reason this took so long is I had to restart it twice :(

You walk into work at Insomnia Coffee Shop and your co-worker, Sohee, greets you.

“Anyone fun yet?” You ask. She's usually in when the store opens and often gets the most interesting customers.

“Not today. But yesterday a cute guy came in and ordered 3 americanos. Turns out it was for him and 2 friends. I tried to give them for free cause he looked half dead but he wouldn't let me. Who even does that?“

While she was talking you had slipped on the ugly orange apron and scowl when you noticed someone double knotted and didn't untie the strings.

You shake your head, “probably a college student pulling an all-nighter. What college student turns down free anything? Ugh, I wish some cute barista offered me free coffee, just, ever.”

Sohee turns and passes the drink over the counter. “For Jeno!”

A cute guy comes up to grab and winks at her before he turns to the door. Your jaw drops a little and you slap her shoulder.

“Is he a regular?” You ask.

“Nope. Said he got a recommendation from a friend and went out of his way to come. Weird day to do it though.”

You hum as the next customer comes in and you get thoroughly distracted. It isn’t until he comes up to the counter and speaks that you stop staring blankly.

“1 latte, 1 americano,” his voice is low and rough and he’s a little bit intimidating honestly. He’s got a small bit of a tattoo poking out one of the sleeves and you try and look at it before you have to turn around.

“Is that a tattoo?” You ask him when you turn around.

He rolls the short sleeve up to his shoulder to expose the full tattoo and you stare at the simple beauty of the moon and stars.

“Woah, that’s cool!” Sohee must’ve seen him just in her peripheral… or she was staring like you. You nod emphatically in agreement.

He blushes a little and says “thanks. Couldn’t reach this part of my arm or else I would’ve done it myself, but I still drew it.”

“Do you work at a tattoo parlour then?”

“Yeah, I do a lot of the designs for our place,”

You gasp, “can I come look at them? Please?” You pout trying to convince him to accept your strange request. You just felt something pulling you towards these drawings and the man who made them.

He looks at you for a moment then says, “yeah, let me give you the address. When you come in just ask for Changbin.”

He pulls out a random business card, not his unfortunately, and writes down the address. He slides it over and covers his smile with a sip.

You turn back to the coffee machines as he walks out the door but Mina stops you.

“Changbin huh? He was pretty cute,” she smirks.

“Hush your mouth and get back to work, brat.”

“Nuh-uh! I get to leave now but if, no no not if when, you meet him we're talking about this later.”

The next day was Tuesday and, thankfully, it was mostly empty of things for you. So you pull out the piece of paper Changbin gave you and looked up the address.

It was just a couple blocks down from the coffee shop and you head out. The building is small and squished right between a bakery and a florist, basically some cheesy romance just waiting to happen.

You walked in and looked around. There were corkboards on either sidewall and they were filled with drawings pinned to them. The bottoms of them fluttered a little at the draft you brought with you.

When you looked at him the man behind the counter raised an eyebrow at you. Ah, so it was very obvious you wouldn't be in here often.

You let out a little nervous laugh, “hi, Changbin told me to come see him here?”

The man raised both eyebrows at that. You fiddled as he looked you over again then laughed a little. “Changbin!” He suddenly yelled.

From one of the closed side rooms comes a muffled voice “go away Chan, I’m busy!”

The man at the desk, Chan, turns back to you “sorry, he’s always like this. He’s probably just sketching a custom.”

“Oh, I can come back later if he’s busy.”

Chan doesn’t answer you and instead yells at Changbin again “I know you’re not actually busy. Your partner is here to see you!”

“Hey!” You protest but Chan just grins at you as you hear the door open.

“Chan what the hell are you-” Changbin cuts himself off and gently smiles when he sees you “hey, didn’t think you were actually gonna come.”

You smile back at him. He looks much softer when he’s smiling and you were briefly caught off guard.

“Tell me again about how you’re not dating or at least interested, “ Chan’s eyes flick between the shy but wide smiles on yours and Changbin’s faces.

Changbin rolls his eyes but inclines his head towards the door he was behind and you follow behind him. He closes the door most of the way behind you and then moves to sit at the desk in the far corner. There are more drawings in here and you assume all of them are his. It’s a wide variety of subjects, from small sketches of animals and plants to large and detailed fantasy creatures.

“Sorry about Chan, he’s always delighted in teasing anyone who’s younger than him,” Changbin shakes his head, probably at Chan even though he can’t see or hear in the room.

“Have you two known each other a long time then?” You ask and tilt your head a little.

“Ah, yeah,” Changbin looks at you again, “most of us met in high school and a couple joined right at the start of college. College was really when our whole group started getting close, too.”

“Sounds nice,” you were paying attention to him, promise, but with such wonderful drawings surrounding you, you really couldn’t help it if your attention drifted a bit.

Changbin notices and raises an eyebrow slightly, “interested in getting one?”

“What? Oh, no no, not right now at least. They’re just… really, really good.”

Changbin immediately looks down and smiles, and you could swear he was blushing a bit but when he looks back up it's gone.

“There’s a couple hidden ones in here that aren’t mine. Think you can spot ‘em?” He challenges.

You immediately head up to one of the boards and stand about 5 centimetres away. You push a couple of them up and out of the way, making sure to be careful. There really is all sorts of stuff, Changbin must be pretty busy. A rushing river done with such detail you can almost see it moving. Swirls that when you look just right suddenly snap into focus to make an abstract, soaring bird. Nature moulded with a person or item in such a seamless way that there is not a difference between them, they are simply one continuous sight.

You’re looking for hidden drawings, not ogling at Changbin’s skills. Right. When you move one more there is a small piece of paper. There is… something on it. Either Changbin drew this when he was about 5 years old or it was someone else.

“Hey, I found one. I don’t even know what this is though, it looks like a squiggle.”

Changbin laughs, “hold on.”

He comes and looks right over your shoulder. You can feel his hot breath on your ear and feel his chest move when he laughs at the drawing again. You quickly reign in the slight disappointment when he moves away.

“Yeah, that’s the thing Chan keeps trying to make our mascot. Felix and I won’t let him so until one of us breaks it’s two against one,” he shrugs and it doesn’t look like he feels bad at all.

“Do all your friends have a drawing stashed in here somewhere?”

“Well, I’ve seen at least 16 drawings put in here so yes they all have one. Some of them and Felix, Jisung’s special twin, has hidden at least 4. There’s probably more that he did when I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Ugh, how many friends do you even have. If it’s more than, like, 6 I might be genuinely angry.”

Changbin practically cackles, “well then get ready to be absolutely furious. There’s 9 of us, including myself and everyone I’ve already mentioned.”

“That’s not even fair! How have you all been friends for so long without someone murdering someone else.”

“Oh, believe me. Seungmin’s wanted to. Unfortunately, his best friends are some of our greatest problem children. Though sometimes I'm pretty sure he'll murder them first.”

“Any other possible murderers I should worry about seeing?” You flip a couple more pictures up, still passively looking for any other weird drawings.

“Hm, Minho's murderous intentions are usually directed at Jisung. He'd do it for his cats too, though. He definitely fits in well.”

“Were there concerns about him not fitting in?”

“Yeah 'cause, he was the last one to join us, but he’s just as chaotic if not more. For Chan’s graduation night he insisted on using some mini firework things he found. Nearly lit himself and Jisung on fire with the very first one.”

Something clicks in your brain. You’ve heard this story before, from one of your random classmates. He was… interesting, to put it politely.

“Are you talking about Lee Minho? The smug bastard who tried to get everyone to call him Lee Know for like 5 months? And Han Jisung, my co-worker kind of, that I’m pretty sure hates me for some reason?”

“Wait, you know them? And why do you think Jisung hates you?”

“Yeah, Minho was my weird classmate. I’m like 90% sure Jisung hates me because he barely looks at me and gives one-word answers to all of my questions. I don’t really see him other than during shift switches but still!”

“I think Minho actually might have mentioned you before. And Jisung is just like that around people he doesn’t know. Trust me, he actually has the capacity to be the loudest person in the room. By far.”

“Huh, I wonder how many of your friends I actually know.”

"Well, we're hanging out on Thursday. Do you want to come with and meet some more of them?”

You hum thoughtfully, thinking of any possible commitments you had made lately, “I probably can but can I bring Sohee? Just so I know someone there?”

“Do I still not count as someone you know?” He whines and pouts a little for the extra effect.

“Not enough. If you all go off on some inside joke I need someone to be confused with.”

“Actually fair, because it might happen. I’ll let you know when and where we’re going later then.”

You pull out your phone and extend it to him, when he looks at it confused you raise an eyebrow, “unless you plan to send it by bird I recommend putting your number in my phone.”

He makes a surprised noise and keeps his eyes away from you and on your phone. It has not spread to his face but under his dark hair his bright red ears peek out just enough for you to see. Even when handing it back he doesn’t look at you and you smile at his bashfulness.

“See ya soon, Bin. I work again tomorrow.”

Directions are not always your strong suit. You’d like to believe they are and that’s how you end up like this, no map and unsure of what direction you should even look in.

“You look lost,” a voice comes from behind you.

You spin around. A tall puppy-like guy is standing behind you, he looks slightly amused and you’re betting it’s at your expense.

“Yeah, do you know where M.I.A Café is?”

“Oh,” he nods, “yeah I’m going there. Let’s go.”

It’s slightly awkward, walking this distance with someone you don’t know. You search your brain with how to start a conversation with someone.

“Are you… meeting someone at the café?” You ask, slightly awkward.

“Yeah, a couple of my friends.”

“Huh, so am I. Well, actually, it’s someone else’s friends and I’m just kinda tagging along,” you shrug, realizing how awkward this will probably be.

“Good luck with that,” he says as he holds the door for you.

You enter and scan the tables for Changbin’s face. You wave and slip into the chair opposite him. On the edge of the table thankfully, hopefully Sohee can recognize the back of your head. Someone sits next to you and you get a little shock seeing who it is.

He grins at you, “hey stranger.”

The guy you walked all that way with one of Changbin’s friends!

Changbin looks between you confusedly, “you know Seungmin?”

“He helped me get here. I might have gotten a little lost.”

“A little, ok. You had no idea where you were,” Seungmin snarks.

“Maybe so!”

“Well good to know you get along with another one of my friends already,” Changbin interjects.

Someone comes up and sits beside Changbin.

“Hey, I’m Hyunjin,” he greets you simply.

You give him a little wave. You don’t like judging people so fast but he’s a little intimidating.

You hear a little scrape of a chair beside and Sohee pops down at the end of the table.

“Sohee, you made it!”

“Yeah, no thanks to you,” she sticks out her tongue at you.

“I’ve seen you somewhere before,” Hyunjin speaks up and you whip your head towards him.

Sohee looks at him and squints for a moment. They start looking at each other for so long that you think they’re actually just having a staring contest. You think you recognize someone walking outside but when you actually look out the window you have no idea who any of them are. It’s still a nice day out, maybe you can go out somewhere after this.

“Oh! You’re the guy I thought was going to drink 3 americanos the other day!”

“Sohee~” you sing.

“What?” She looks at you, annoyed.

“You forgot an important detail that you told me about him.”

She looks genuinely confused for a moment before catching on and shaking her head, “shut up, nope nope nope.”

“You think he’s cute!” You cackle.

You, Changbin, and Seungmin make fun of Sohee and Hyunjin for a little while. It backfires when Sohee manages to sneakily turn the attention on you, well you and Changbin. Together, you being together.

“Yeah, and you stared at him for so long when he came in!” Sohee says.

“Sohee, kindly shut your mouth,” you reply, smiling the most pained and fake smile ever.

“Ok, please don’t pour your drink on me, I’m afraid. Also we work together so I’m coming for you.”

You just roll your eyes at her, you didn’t actually scare her and you both know that. She just likes to be some sort of annoying sister to you.

Hyunjin clears his throat and when you look at him his eyes are bright. He smiles sneakily and says, “you should hear about the time Changbin actually poured his drink on someone.”

“Hyunjin that was an accident and you know it!” Changbin exclaims, attempting to shoulder check a giggling Hyunjin.

You breeze into Blueprint Tattoos and Chan looks up in surprise.

“Hey there, didn’t know you were coming in today.”

You let out a single, unnatural ‘ha’, “I didn’t know either but uh, here I am.”

“Well, Changbin’s in his usual spot. I don’t think he has anything today.”

“Thanks,” you nod stiffly.

Looking around at the cork boards you can see some of them definitely done in Changbin’s style and a handful more you suspect would be his. You breathe out heavily and slouch a little before straightening and walking towards where Changbin should be, full of false confidence.

“Are you ok?” Chan asks and when you look over his eyebrows are furrowed and his forehead pinched down a little. The concern from someone you barely know is a little unusual but the warmth you get from it is welcoming.

“Yeah, just a little nervous you know?” You force a small laugh but you know it’s not convincing.

“Oh!” Chan exclaims, “well if this is what I think it is then good luck.”

Chan’s face is completely relaxed and you feel a little bit bad for making him worry so much. You’re not entirely sure what he thinks you’re doing but you smile at his kindness as you open Changbin’s door.

He has headphones in and doesn’t hear when you close the door behind you. You stand there for a minute, back against the door, just looking at him. Most people move to what they’re listening to but the only thing moving is his hand and it glides across the page. You have no idea what he’s doing but you just hope he’ll show it to you when he’s done.

You take a big breath in and out before approaching him. Tapping his shoulder gently you hope not to cause him to jerk his arm and ruin a line or anything. He stops completely and pulls his headphones out. He looks a little annoyed but then he looks up to see you and his face eases.

“Hi! I didn’t know you were coming today. Anything specific on the brain or did you just want to hang out with Best Friend Binnie?” He gives you an exaggerated and comical wink.

“Give me a tattoo?” You say, surprisingly calm for how jittery you actually feel.

“Wait, what? Are you sure? Like really sure?”

You roll your eyes like a stereotypical teenager would at their parents, that is to say, so far back it felt like they would disappear into your head, “no, Changbin, I’m not sure. I’ve really only been thinking about it basically since the first time I walked into this room.”

“That was only a week ago,” Changbin deadpans.

“Yeah, and?”

Changbin shakes his head, “I’m not going to give you a tattoo you’ll regret.”

You look around at the drawings. Feeling like that one action gave this decision away as way more spontaneous than it had originally seemed. Yes, you had been thinking about getting one and getting Changbin to do it for you but doing it today specifically was a complete impulse.

“I’m not going to regret it! Bin, please,” you pout at him.

Changbin tilts his head to look at the ceiling as if it will give him some guidance.

“What do you want?”

You clap your hands excitedly and then hesitate again.

“Well, I know I want a flower but… I want you to choose which one. I want it to be a flower with a good meaning behind it.”

Changbin nods and stands there considering your request. You take the time to look around his office again. Staring at all the intricate drawings on the walls you feel a bit dorky choosing to get a simple flower. Your eyes briefly catch on two stylized drawings of the word SpearB. One of them has a cute little ‘Binnie~’ under it and the other has a messy ‘Chanathan’ in English and Korean.

There are a couple of flowers scattered throughout the room so you’re a bit surprised when you hear Changbin ripping a page out of his sketchbook. His back is to you so you can’t see him cutting it down to a size to la and trace on your body. You can hear the gentle snips of scissors as you distract yourself with rows of flowers connected and individual petals with such detail you could believe them being real.

You watch as he gently traces the pattern onto your skin. You don’t recognize the flower right away but it looks delicate and beautiful. You think you catch him glancing up at you a few times but you’re pretty sure the clock is behind you and he’s looking at that.

You zone out almost entirely as he prepares. Well, it’s not exactly zoning out. You’d say it’s appreciation of an attractive man, your friends would say that you’re just checking him out.

Ok, so what if you are? Changbin’s shirt has no sleeves which means his arms are on full display which means that you can’t stop looking at the muscles flexing as he moves. Thankfully you’re conscious enough to look away when he turns back around.

The buzz of the gun wakes you up and Changbin is looking at you.

“All good?” He asks.

“Yeah, let’s do this.”

You watch for a moment as he starts going and the ink sinks permanently into your skin. It’s a strange thing to conceptualize, something being on your body forever. You catch a glimpse of Changbin’s concentrated face and you get completely distracted by him. If this is what he looks like everytime he gives a tattoo then you want to observe, even study, him.

His mouth is set in a firm line and eyebrows pinched slight inwards and downwards. His eyes are wide and focused and if you look closely enough you can see every slight movement of his irises following his hand around.

Neither of you say a word and you don’t dare move to try and look at the clock or your phone. Just watching and waiting in silence, but together. A shared silence is different than one had alone.

Silences by yourself can feel wrong sometimes but this kind of silence with Changbin feels so right that you almost never want it to end.

Good things often come quicker than they should and soon the buzzing stops. You can hear phantom buzzing still and suspect you will for quite a while. You lift your arm and look at it, it’s finished now but you’re still not sure what it is and certainly not what it means.

“What is it?” You ask.

“An almond blossom. It, uh, it means promise.”

“Promise, huh?” You grin and look at Changbin's pink-ish face.

You expect him to have some witty comment but instead, he just smiles goofily and breathlessly says, “yeah.”

92 notes · View notes

wkemeup · 4 years

Text

I’m With You (2/3)

series summary: When two strangers meet on a layover in the Charlotte Airport, they find that a lifetime can sit in the span of three days and it doesn’t take very long at all to fall in love. pairing: bucky x reader warnings: super soft!bucky, shenanigans, an asshole of an ex-boyfriend 🌸series masterlist // series playlist 🌸

T H E W E D D I N G

You sat at the far corner of the bar, tucked behind a post and a sudden influx of men you recognized from your college years enough to turn your back and hide your face into your second glass of bourbon.

The bartender eyed you carefully, raising an eyebrow as you neared the end of your drink but you shook your head. You were drinking too much too fast for a woman alone at a wedding and you figured you should have enough wits about you to look after yourself, at least.

Knee bouncing in a nervous twitch with your heel wrapped around the footrest of the barstool, you let out a tired huff. The ceremony hadn’t even started yet and you were already losing it. Without a single other person around you could cling onto for sanity, you were left alone to face the wedding of your ex-boyfriend, Jack; your longest, most serious relationship. Actually, your only relationship.

Shit.

You took another sip.

The rowdy group of guys beside you were hollering amongst one another and you could spot one staring at you with a hungry kind of look that made your stomach turn. You reached into your bag, hoping to distract yourself with your phone when your fingers touched crumpled paper.

You pulled it out slowly, examining the series of numbers scribbled in black ink you’d been handed at three in the morning by the handsome stranger who’d turned a near overnight in the Charlotte airport into an adventure filled with coffee, cartwheels, snacks, checkers, and intimate questions you never would have answered if it wasn’t for the genuine curve of his smile and the kindness in the blue of his eyes.

Bucky.

You swallowed nervously, running a thumb over the letters. It hadn’t even been a full twenty-four hours since you’d seen him and you were already thinking of calling. You sighed, groaning, never having felt more pathetic in your life. Until, Marci Jacobs walked into the room and somehow, you felt even worse.

Marci was a friend of Jack’s from school. She never liked you in all the three years you’d been with Jack and she made no effort to hide her dislike of you. She spotted you from across the room and with a smirk upon her face, she made her way towards you, despite your best efforts to sink into yourself and disappear completely.

“Y/n!” she cheered, voice shrill and fake as she attempted to hug you. You let her, awkwardly, though you remained incredibly stiff. She didn’t seem to notice or care. “We didn’t think you’d make it with the storm!”

“Yep,” you nodded, eyes darting to the floor. “Got a last-minute flight this morning around three.”

“Good, good,” she replied, though she was looking over your shoulder, like she was waiting for someone. “So… are you here alone?”

There it was. The reason she came over to you. There always had to be something with Marci, a reason for her to berate you.

You sighed, nodding and gesturing to the clearly empty seats around you. She smiled.

“Shame,” she shrugged, though she didn’t look the least upset about it. “Anyway, I’ll see you at the ceremony. I’m sure you’re looking forward to seeing Jack again. Oh! And the bouquet toss, since you’re clearly available.”

You clenched your jaw, forcing out a nod and a tight smile though it took all of your effort. The moment she turned her back to you and made her way out of the bar, you exhaled a massive breath of relief. Clinging to the crumpled paper in your hand you had hidden in the palm of your grip, you pull out your phone.

You didn’t know what the hell you were thinking attending this wedding; surrounding by Jack and his friends, alone, and the prime target for every joke. But you couldn’t leave now, not now that Marci had seen you and was likely on her way to inform Jack that you’d arrived so they could have a good laugh about it together. A lump burned in your throat just thinking of it.

Before your nerve could get the better of you, you typed the numbers into your phone and brought it to your ear. Each ring echoed in your chest and your heart thumped a decibel louder. Your hand was practically shaking, waiting.

Did you want him to answer? Was it worse if he didn’t?

You nearly hung up the phone before you could find out when a scruffy voice came through the speaker, tired, confused, and your heart froze.

“Hello?” he called, like he’d just woken up.

You parted your lips to respond, but nothing came out.

“Anyone there?” he asked slowly and you were sure he could hear the patrons in the bar, the music playing low over the speakers, and the clinking of glasses as the bartender stacked them on the shelf beside you.

“Hey Bucky,” you finally choked out, cursing yourself at how pathetic you already felt. There went the whole three-day-rule you had always told yourself you didn’t believe in anyway, but now that you were the one calling less than twenty-four hours later, you felt like an idiot.

An exhale that hinted at relief came through his end of the phone and you could hear him shuffling around, like he was tossing blankets off of him and sitting up on a squeaking bed.

“Hey Y/n, I didn’t—” he chuckled and you could practically picture him running his fingers through his hair, “I didn’t think you’d call so soon,” you winced at that, “but I’m glad you did.”

Okay. That’s interesting.

“You are?” you asked nervously, playing with the edge of your glass, swirling the leftover amber liquid on the bottom.

“I was actually kicking myself over not getting your number,” he said, smile in his voice. “I kept thinking when I boarded my plane that I wanted to text you and tell you to have a safe flight and to text me when you land because – I don’t know – that’s something people do for one another these days and I thought you might think it was kind of sweet or something but I never got your number and I realized I’d have to wait for you to reach out and... I’ll tell ya, Y/n, I was nervous you might not ever call and—” he paused suddenly and a tight breath brushed over the speakers, “I’m rambling like a complete idiot. You must think I’m insane.”

“I already kind of thought you were insane, Bucky,” you laughed, cheeks aching from how wide you were smiling and as his nervous chuckle came through the speakers, you relaxed instantly. “But you’re right, I would have thought it was sweet. Maybe you can do that when I fly home?”

“Yeah,” he replied, “yeah, doll, I absolutely will.”

You bit on your lip, trying to hold back the smile to keep it sacred from the guy who had been eyeing you across the bar earlier. He narrowed his gaze on you and you remembered why you’d called Bucky in the first place.

“Hey, so, um,” you started awkwardly, “are you doing anything today?”

“If wasting away in a hotel room counts as doing something, then sorry, doll, I’m all booked,” he teased, already drawing another smile out of you. “Bec’s graduation is tomorrow. Got today to psych myself up.”

Your heart sank.

“Oh! Oh, okay, yeah that makes sense,” you mumbled, clenching your hand around the glass so tight you thought you might break it.

“Why? What’s going on?” Bucky asked sweetly and you couldn’t help the twist in your stomach. He was too kind, too perfect. You’d never stand a chance with him in real life. Whatever you thought you had with him should have just stayed in the airport at midnight where it belonged.

“It’s—It’s nothing. I don’t want to interrupt your plans.”

“Trust me, doll, I’d rather do just about anything else than spend the whole day ruminating over how freaked out I am about tomorrow.”

You shook your head, suddenly feeling so incredibly stupid for reaching out to him now that it was real. It would be worse than showing up alone. Being with a guy you barely met a day ago who was so clearly out of your league… it would be a field day for Marci and you didn’t even want to think of how Jack would react.

“You’re at that wedding, aren’t you?” Bucky asked gently, carefully, like he knew your heart was breaking on the other end of the phone, even when you didn’t respond. “Where's it at? I’ll come to you.”

“Don’t—Don’t worry about it, Buck. I’m—I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have bothered you with this,” you said quickly, choking on the lump in your throat and trying to avoid the stares of the guy across the bar.

A woman rushed into the room and circled her hand above her head, signaling it was time to gather for the ceremony.

“Y/n, you’re not bothering me, doll,” Bucky insisted, rushed tone because he could hear you shuffling your things together. “Please, just tell me where you are and I’ll be there.”

“I have to go,” you stammered out and even as Bucky tried to object, calling your name as you pulled the phone away from your ear, you hung up.

It was for the best, you told yourself. Bucky couldn’t possibly want you amongst a sea of beautiful women in cocktail dresses and you didn’t think you could handle the look on Jack’s face when he sees just how out of your depth you are. He’d never come out and say it but he’d find ways to chip at your heart, something subtle enough to say in front of a crowd that could still manage to break away your self-esteem. It was a special talent of his.

So, you followed the crowd into the cathedral with bourbon on your breath and wondering how a bar managed to operate next door to a church. Though, you realized, both were places of refuge, weren’t they?

***

The ceremony didn’t start for nearly thirty minutes after the entire guest list had been seated. You sat in the last pew on the right side, tucked away so far back you hoped Jack wouldn’t be able to see you. He stood at the altar, dressed in a black suit with light pink flowers pinned to his lapel as he chatted with his friends standing to his left. He didn’t seem bothered in the slightest by the late arrival of his bride.

When the music finally did start, Marci was the first one down the aisle, followed by four more of the bride’s friends. The dresses were stunning, with a blush sheen and a silk texture, they all looked like models off of a runway. You glanced down at your burgundy dress. It cinched at the waist and flowed gently down to the mid of your thighs and you had thought it was decent enough until you saw these women walk by.

Then, came the bride, Lena, with long blonde waves flowing down her back and braids circling her head in a crown, adorned with flowers and a vail that swept over her exposed back and carried for yards behind her in the aisle. Her dress was unlike anything you’d seen and looked like it was hand made for her. She was perfect. She was exceptional. You understood what Jack meant by ‘better options.’

Some shuffling on your left suddenly grabbed your attention as the minister greeted the guests, and you turned to find the other members of your pew grumbling. You narrowed your eyes, trying to find the source of their irritation when a familiar voice whispered beside you, “so, what I miss?”

You turned sharply to your right to where the voice had spoken in your ear to find Bucky grinning wildly at you, albeit a little out of breath as he rested against the pew ahead of him for support. Your jaw dropped, looking him over to find him in a light blue suit that somehow managed to make his eyes stand out more than they already did. A bead of sweat dripped from his brow and his quickly wiped it away.

“W-What are you doing here?”

“Attending a wedding. What are you doing here?” he replied cheekily, taking a seat as the minister instructed. He tugged on your hand to sit down next to him when you didn’t budge, still in shock, not noticing you were the only one still standing. Your face flushed a red as your dress.

“How did you— How did you even find it?” you whispered, grimacing as an older gentleman in the pew ahead of you turned around to glare in your direction.

“It’s the third one I’ve been to today,” Bucky said into your ear, so impossibly close you could feel the warm of his breath against your skin. You shivered as he continued. “Once I picked up a suit from my buddy Steve, I just had to check the papers. Turns out, there’s seven couples getting married in Atlanta today. Got lucky on number three.”

You nodded, understanding the logic of it but at a loss as to why he was sitting next to you. He must have picked up on your confusion and he smiled sweetly at you.

“You sounded upset on the phone,” he said softly as the guests recited a psalm together in unison. He leaned closer so you could hear him. “I didn’t want you to be alone through this. I know it might not feel like it, but you made a world of difference for me last night. I wanted to return the favor. Make something painful a little easier.”

Bucky sighed, standing up with the crowd, and pulling you up by your hand again because you were simply too lost in anything else but him to notice. He smiled at that, nudging your shoulder and leaning in again.

“Plus, I like you,” he said causally and your heart nearly stopped completely, “I wanted to see you again and if I could make a good second impression and be in a suit, I wasn’t going to let that opportunity pass me by. Besides,” he eyed you carefully, smile tugging at his cheeks, “you look beautiful.”

You blushed and Bucky’s smile only widened. You weren’t even sure how that was possible.

“That dress is a good color on you, doll. It matches your cheeks now,” he teased and you swatted at his arm, mumbling at him to ‘shut up’ and he chuckled, biting down on his lip when the man in front of you turned to scold you again. Bucky muttered a quick apology and you pressed your face into his shoulder to keep yourself from bursting out into laughter.

The entire ceremony, Bucky managed to keep a smile on your face, whispering teasing comments into your ear and making fun of the bride’s father who sat with his arms crossed over his chest, red faced, the entire time. You thought you might actually survive this up until the moment the minister requested for Jack and Lena to recite their vows.

Jack pulled out a piece of paper from his jacket and your breath hitched in your throat.

He wrote his own vows?

He couldn’t have been bothered to get you a card on Valentine’s Day or remember your birthday but he chose to write his own vows?

“I have loved you since the first day I saw you,” Jack started and you gripped tight to the pew ahead of you. “I remember the exact dress you were wearing because I’d never seen anyone more beautiful in my entire life.”

Your hand was shaking and even as Bucky noticed, trying to sooth you with a cautious hand laying on top of yours, you could feel the lump burning in your throat.

“It was spring. The flowers were blooming on the cherry blossoms by the library on campus. You were walking out of your econ class carrying four different books and struggling just to see above the bindings. I knew in that instant, you’d be my whole world. Nothing else mattered to me in that moment. It all just faded away.”

You froze, breath caught in your throat. No, no that couldn’t be. He’d broken up with you right after graduation. The way he described his first-time seeing Lena, like it had happened in your last semester at school.

‘It all just faded away.’ You faded away.

He had already found his better option before he even left you.

Oh, God.

Tears were in your eyes before you could stop them. You could only vaguely hear Bucky whispering gently in your ear, his hand running soothingly along your arm, but none of it was registering, not as Jack looked so loving into Lena’s eyes, describing in painful detail the moment he decided to throw you away.

You clenched your hands into fists, digging your nails into your palms as your breaths started to come in with short gasps. Ignoring Bucky’s attempts to calm you, you pushed your way through the aisle, legs shaking and numb and disregarding the disgruntled comments of the guests you squeezed past. You didn’t even spend a second out in the open before you darted out into the back alcove of the church, away from prying eyes in an enclosed room likely meant to hide the bride before the ceremony began.

You stumbled around, trying to find something to ground yourself with but nothing was working. You were feeling light-headed up until the moment two hands grasped onto your arms and you were met with ocean blue eyes.

“Hey, doll, you’re alright,” Bucky whispered, brushing a fallen hair away from your face and letting his free hand slide down your arm until he took a firm hold of your own, guiding it up to his chest and setting it over his heart. “Breathe with me now. In. Out. Good, Y/n. You’re doing so well. Come on now, keep going.”

You nodded, following his instructions and trying to push past the dizziness in your head and the throbbing ache in your chest. He’d done this before, that much you could gather. He was a soldier; he’d mentioned that in the airport. You wondered if he ever got panic attacks like this and you winced at the thought, of even comparing your heartbreak over an ex who didn’t even treat you well to whatever horrors he’d faced overseas.

Bucky’s hand didn’t leave yours as it sat on his chest. His hands were much larger than yours, covering the whole of your palm, and he smiled gently at you the whole time. As your breathing came back down, he whispered praises, told you how safe you were, that you were going to be alright, that he wouldn’t leave you.

How is it that you only met this man at an airport less than twenty-four hours ago?

Bucky pulled out a chair for you once your breathing was more even and helped you to sit down. You glanced up at him, wiping away the tears from your eyes, expecting to find something like pity or annoyance on his face but you were only met with kindness, of empathy, and concern.

“You alright?” he asked carefully.

You could hear the mics picking up Lena’s vows in the background. You clenched your jaw and you nodded, trying to convince him and yourself that you were, but the lump choked you again and the tears came right back.

“I think he cheated on me,” you gasped out and Bucky’s smile fell instantly. “His—His vows. We were still together until after graduation. But he met her b-before and he kept saying nothing else mattered and—and that—that was me, Bucky, I didn’t matter—”

A sob choked its way through you and Bucky darted forward, gathering you in his arms and holding you tight to his chest. You clung onto him like he was your only tether to this earth, crying tears into the lapel of his blue suit as he rubbed his hand in gentle circles over the bare of your back between the straps of your dress.

“You matter, Y/n,” Bucky soothed, repeating it again and again like a mantra, “you matter, okay? Jack is an asshole and an even shitter boyfriend and you deserve so much more than that, do you hear me? You’re incredible and selfless and funny and so fucking beautiful it makes my stomach twist all up in knots just lookin’ at ya. You are the best option, remember? Y/n, I need you to hear me on this.”

“I hear you,” you mumbled into his jacket, though you didn’t quite believe it, not with Jack standing up there proclaiming his love for the woman he left you for.

“Let’s get out of here,” Bucky said, pushing you back from his embrace just enough to get a good look at your face. Your cheeks were rosy and eyes red with tears, and you were certain half of your makeup was down your face, but Bucky didn’t even flinch. He reached forward and brushed his thumb ever so slightly under your eye, wiping away a trail of mascara and tears. “We don’t have to stay, Y/n. We can leave now and go do something fun. Screw Jack and this stupid wedding.”

You laughed despite yourself, but you shook your head. “If I leave now, I’ll never live it down. I can’t be the ex that ran out of the ceremony and deserted the reception. Especially since Jack knows I’m here and Marci will tell every goddamn person at this wedding how pathetic I am.”

“Who gives a shit what those people think?” Bucky shrugged, trying to draw a smile out of you, but your jaw was clenched shut. He sighed. “You give a shit, don’t you?”

“I wish I didn’t,” you replied defeatedly, eyes darting to the floor and shame seeping into your features.

“Okay,” Bucky nodded, tucking a flyaway hair behind your ear and then gently rubbing at the mascara stains on your cheek, “guess we better make the most of it, huh?”

He offered you his hand and you took it gratefully. The two of you started to make your way back into the church when suddenly the door to your secluded room swung open and Marci was standing in the frame. She narrowed her eyes, clearly not expecting to find you here.

“What are you doing?” she snipped, though her voice was light and airy, “the ceremony just ended. Jack and Lena are outside greeting the guests.”

Her eyes fell on Bucky then and she softened immediately. Of course, she did. She was the type of effortlessly stunning you expected Bucky to want but as she trailed her gaze down his body, you felt him stiffen next to you. The moment she caught sight of your hand encased in his, she clenched her jaw.

“Sorry, who are you?” she asked Bucky, stepping closer to him and ignoring your presence completely.

Your lips parted, trying to come up with an excuse because she had seen you at the bar, she’d known you’d been here alone, but you couldn’t form a single strand of words. Thankfully, Bucky was quicker on his feet than you and he darted his free hand out for her to shake.

“Bucky, the boyfriend,” he said casually and your heart stopped. Boyfriend? “I flew in last minute to surprise my girl, but don’t fret, you can tell the happy couple I plan to steer clear of the food and drinks so they don’t have to worry about paying extra for my crashing.”

He pulled you tighter to his side, arm draping over your shoulders and a giddy smile on his face as he pressed a kiss to the crown of your head like it was nothing. Marci didn’t seem convinced, only that was probably more due to the fact that it was you Bucky was talking about and not because he wasn’t a convincing liar. You were pretty convinced for a moment yourself.

“Right,” Marci drawled, reaching to the desk to pick up the marriage certificates, “I guess I’ll see you at the reception. Jack is so looking forward to seeing you, Y/n.”

You nodded, though your hand balled into a fist. In any other tone, maybe her parting words could have sounded like a warm invitation, but to you, they were a threat.

The moment she disappeared out the door and you were alone again, Bucky let out an exasperated sigh.

“She’s… something else,” he grunted. “We should get going if we want to make it to cocktail hour before all the shrimp are gone.”

“Thought you weren’t going to eat?” you chuckled under your breath, the tension fading from your muscles and Bucky must have felt it because his hand snaked back down your arm and into your own.

“Never said I wouldn’t steal one or two off your plate,” he grinned back, leading you to the door and away from your brief sanctuary. You didn’t feel as afraid stepping out of this room when you had Bucky’s hand encased in your own.

***

You didn’t know how you would have survived if it wasn’t for Bucky at your side. The entire cocktail hour, guests gathered in the luxurious ballroom halls, standing around high-top tables with tiny appetizers and mingling amongst themselves. Some were old friends from college, others were extended family you recognized from your time with Jack. They all sent incredibly unsubtle glances in your direction as they whispered to one another.

“The shrimp are overcooked,” Bucky grumbled, though you knew full well they were cooked to perfection and he was just trying to make you feel better. “You sure you don’t want to skip this joint and go to that ice cream shop I was telling you about? I hear it's incredible. I’m tellin’ ya, doll.”

“I’m sure, Bucky,” you said with a soft smile, though as you watched him press his lips into a thin line and nod, your stomach ached a little. “You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to. I’ll be—I’ll be fine on my own.”

“What? No way,” Bucky shook his head as he grabbed another plate of shrimp from a waiter as he passed by. “I’m not going anywhere. Just wanted to give you an out if you needed it. I love weddings, even if they’re for cheating, asshole ex boyfriends. You should see me on the dance floor. You’ll regret ever knowing me.”

“I don’t think that’s possible,” you mumbled under your breath as Bucky took another bite of shrimp. He smiled at you and you weren’t sure if he’d heard you or not, but your heart was swelling to five times its size and you were certain you’d be devastated when the night ended.

The waiters began to guide the guests to the main ballroom and you shuffled in behind Bucky, holding tight to his hand as he led you to where your name plate was listed. As you came up on the table, you realized there wouldn’t be a seat for him.

He noticed too, but he didn’t say a word as he sank down into your chair, and patted his thigh. You froze, narrowing your eyes on him as a heat burned in your face but he started to chuckle, waving you off before he stood and offered you the chair.

“Only joking, Y/n,” he smiled sweetly as you sat down. He crouched next to you, as not to obstruct the view of the incoming wedding party from the guests behind him.

As the announced the bridesmaids and groomsmen, even as Marci came dancing out from behind the double doors, you managed to keep your composure. That was, until Jack and Lena were announced and they sauntered out into the ballroom to enthusiastic applause, smiling widely at one another and so clearly in love it made your stomach twist into painful knots.

You weren’t in love with Jack. That was never the issue, though you wondered if that was what Bucky thought as he watched you carefully as Jack and Lena prepared for their first dance as a married couple, the song echoing through the speakers one on a playlist you had made him for his twenty-first birthday.

No, you didn’t love Jack, not anymore, but you wondered constantly why he never seemed to love you. He certainly couldn’t have then if he left you so easily and you hadn’t even known at the time it was for another woman.

He had said he wanted to look at better options but you always thought it was hypothetical. You didn’t realize he had already found someone else, someone better. You wondered if you were broken; wondered why the one man you’d ever loved, ever given yourself over to wholly, could leave you like you had meant nothing to him.

That was why watching him with Lena was so painful. He was capable of great love and kindness and compassion, but he’d never looked at you with even an ounce of the way he looked at her.

You must have been gripping the edge of the chair tight enough for your muscles to twitch because Bucky’s hand gently sat over yours. He turned to you with a sad kind of smile and that sweet look in his eyes and you wondered if maybe he would find someone better than you, too.

The dance ended and the crowd erupted into applause; the happy couple beaming and thanking their guests as the DJ started to play upbeat music. You watched at Jack led Lena to the head table, offering her to pull out her chair and you rolled your eyes.

“Alright, let’s go,” Bucky huffed, jumping back up to his feet and holding out his hand. You narrowed your eyes, lips pursing.

“What are you—”

“Time to dance, doll. Let’s go,” he said again, prying your hand away from the back of the chair when you refused to budge and started to tug you to the clearly empty dance floor. He yanked you enough to get you on your feet and you were already panicking.

“Bucky! No! This is—this is a bad idea,” you whispered frantically as Bucky dragged you to the center of the dance floor and you darted your head around the room looking for people to laugh and point but no one was playing attention, certainly not as Bucky started to sway his hips and several couples came up to the dance floor to join you.

“It only takes a few people to get the party started,” Bucky shrugged, gesturing to the now packed dance floor as he danced along to the beat, though you remained completely still. He grunted, grabbing onto your shoulders and forcibly moving you in a swaying motion until you started to laugh and he grinned, letting you go as you danced on your own.

***

You didn’t leave the dance floor for nearly an hour, shouting out the lyrics to songs you didn’t even know you had memorized until sweat beaded on your forehead and you forgot who’s wedding you were at in the first place. Bucky was infectious, in every sense of the term; his joy, his laugh, his smile, his overwhelming selflessness. He dropped everything the moment he sensed you were upset and he barely even knew you. What would he do if he’d known you for days? Months? Years?

As he laughed at himself for nearly tripping over his own foot as he spun you around, you wondered if maybe there was something more beyond the stranger who approached you in the airport earlier that morning.

That was, until the DJ announced he was going to “cool things down” and the upbeat music faded into acoustic guitar and slow melodies.

You stumbled slightly in your stance, looking around awkwardly to the couples as they held onto their loved ones, others retreating back to their seats with tired groans. You started to back away to save yourself from the embarrassment of it all, but then, Bucky’s hand latched onto yours.

You turned back to him with wide eyes and you were only met with that beaming grin of his as he pulled you hard enough to come crashing back against his chest. Your hair flew into his face, hand gripping onto the lapel of his jacket for support.

He let out that laugh of his that made your stomach weak as his hand snaked around your waist, holding you still against him but giving you the leeway to move if you wanted to escape. His free hand gently pushed the hair away from your face as he started to sway softly, guiding you along with him and you were sure your breath was locked in your lungs.

“Don’t tell me you were gonna abandon me, doll?”

You chewed on your lip, looking just about anywhere but his eyes. “I don’t usually… um… slow dance.”

“What? Jack never dance with you?” Bucky teased, though you could hear the hint of bitterness behind his voice as he stole a glance over at the head table. When you didn’t respond because you simply couldn’t stand the humiliation of admitting he was right, Bucky clenched his jaw tightly, muscle twitching in the effort. His smile was tense now, though he tried to push aside his anger. “Well screw him. I’m dancing with you, ain’t I? And you’re wonderful at it. Poor sucker doesn't even know what he’s missing.”

You smiled sadly at him as his fingers rubbed careful patterns into the small of your back, encouragingly, reassuringly, and you rested your cheek on his shoulder. The action must have surprised him because you felt his breath hitch, though he relaxed just as quickly, humming along to the song. Off key and still like honey, like the moments before you met him.

You didn’t know how long you stayed like that, swaying gently with him until you unclasped your right hand from his left and wrapped both arms around his neck, his at your waist. Two, three songs passed by and you held him close, listening to the soft brushes of his breath and the fluttering of his heartbeat.

Leaning back slightly because you simply had to know what was going on in his head, you were met with startling blue eyes, though softened and longing for something you couldn’t quite believe. He swallowed, eyes flickering down at your lips.

“Bucky,” you whispered his name, unsure of what you even wanted to say when he was looking at you like that. Your heart was pounding in your chest, thunderous and exhilarated, as he leaned in closer. His breath ghosted against your lips and you swore the entirety of time stopped in that instant, up until the moment a disgruntled cough beside you pulled you both from your daze.

You both flinched at the sound as the elderly woman coughed again, turning to face her as she scowled in your direction before she smiled sweetly at Bucky. She was carrying a handkerchief in her hand, patched of bright red lipstick on the white cloth.

“You looked like a strong young man,” she started and Bucky sent you a glance that made you chuckle, biting on your lip to suppress it before the woman could notice. “My nephew needs some assistance in carrying some of the alcohol barrels from the truck.”

“Kegs?” Bucky asked with a light laugh and she nodded.

“Won’t you be a dear? I’m sure your date won’t mind,” she said, shaking her handkerchief in your direction though she didn’t spare you a glance. You supposed it was something to get used to around Bucky; women of all ages fawning over him, if you ever got the chance to even try to get used to it.

Bucky clenched his jaw, exhaling a tight breath from his nose. “Ma’am, I would, but I’d rather not leave my--”

“Go,” you offered, stepping back from him and pulling away his hands from your waist. He frowned, smile falling instantly but you brushed your hand over his cheek, drawing it back almost instantly. “I’ll be fine, Buck. Go. You won’t be long.”

He nodded and the elderly woman grinned, exposing yellowed teeth with lipstick stains mixed in.

“Be back the second I can,” he promised, grabbing your hand on his cheek and pulling it to his lips, kissing at the knuckles chastely and you were sure your heart stopped beating entirely. He stepped back, offering his arm to the woman as she walked him in the direction of her nephew, leaving you alone on the dance floor surrounded by couples.

Taking a deep breath, you decided to get some air. Without Bucky by your side, the room felt incredibly lonely again and you found yourself searching for a glass of bourbon. Quickly grabbing one from the bartender and making your way outside past the double doors to the back patio, a fresh wave of air hit you and you relaxed instantly.

You looked out to the skyline of the city and sun setting in the distance and flourish colors painting the sky. It was a wonder you stumbled upon something so beautiful. You took a sip of the bourbon, hoping Bucky would find you again before the sun disappeared behind the buildings because you hated the thought of him missing something as incredible as this.

Leaning against the railings, you took a moment to get lost in the sunset. But then, a few minutes later, a hand settled on your shoulder that made your heart jump enough to nearly drop your glass onto the patio floor.

You shrieked, hand clutching to your heart as you steadied the glass in your hand to find Jack holding his hands up defensively at his sides. Your eyes went wide, jaw clenching, and you cursed yourself for even thinking you could get through this wedding without ever having to talk to him.

“It’s good to see you, Y/n,” Jack grinned, eyes falling up and down your figure and you found yourself crossing your arms over your chest, keeping your glass close to your lips because you’d surely need another sip soon. He smirked though his eyes were cold. “You look good.”

“You, too,” you said awkwardly, looking around at the scenery to avoid his eyes. “Congratulations, by the way. Lena is stunning.”

Jack nodded, hands slipping into his pockets as he glanced back into the reception area. “Yeah, she is, isn’t she?”

You swallowed nervously, tapping your foot and silently begging Bucky to find you before you made a complete fool of yourself.

Jack took a step closer to you, staring down at you from his height like a hawk stalking prey. You realized then, that he always made you feel owned, powerless. He didn’t love you in the way you thought he did, the way you so naively thought he was capable of. It wasn’t until you met Bucky that you got even a glimpse of what it felt like to truly be wanted, to be enjoyed, and you’d only known him for a day. He taught you more about what it meant to love someone than Jack did in three years.

“I didn’t think you’d come, actually,” Jack said with a shrug, “after how badly you took the breakup and all.”

You clenched your jaw so tight your muscles ached within seconds. You remembered that day well; with the tears streaming down your face and his cold, hard demeanor as he watched you beg him to stay without an ounce of remorse. You never thought you’d survive that night, but you had, and you did, and you still were, and maybe you were finding a way to forget it.

“I saw you run out of the ceremony, you know,” he said slowly, his hand pushing out to run along your arm and you shivered involuntarily, both revolted by his touch and unable to walk away. “I know you’re still in love with me, baby. It’s okay to admit it.”

You shook your head, “no, I—I'm--”

“You don’t have to lie to me, Y/n,” Jack purred, his hand snaking up into your hair and cupping your cheek. Your breaths were uneven, shaken, and you didn’t have the strength to pull away. Whether it was because of his lingering power over you or the fact that you were outside in the dark, alone with him that forced you still, you didn’t know.

“I’m not--”

“You don’t have to make up some fake boyfriend to get my attention.” Jack brushed his thumb over your mouth and you closed your eyes, unwilling to watch the way he licked at his own lips in the movement. “We both know that you won’t do better than me, baby. I was your best option. You’ll have to find a way to accept that I’ve found mine and... it wasn’t you.”

Your jaw was quivering. He had you exactly where you were three years ago. Lost. Insecure. Broken. The amber liquid in your glass was rippling as your hand trembled.

“There you are, sweetheart! I was looking everywhere for you,” Bucky’s voice carried out into the patio in rush of relief as you quickly stepped away from Jack’s hold on your face. Wearing a bright smile that didn’t quite meet his eyes, Bucky jogged out to meet you and tossed his arm around your waist, tugging you close enough to press a kiss to your cheek that drew a gasp from your lungs.

Jack narrowed his eyes suspiciously on Bucky. “You must be ‘the boyfriend.’” He wasn’t convinced.

“That’s me,” Bucky grinned, pulling you tighter against him, protectively. “Listen man, the ceremony was beautiful but I gotta apologize for sneaking out mid-way through.”

Your eyes widened, heart jumping, as Jack furrowed his brow. You had no idea where Bucky was going with this and you were terrified to find out. You tried stepping on his foot, pinching his side, but he pressed on, urged by the scowl Jack was sending in your direction.

“You know how it is when you see your girl all dolled up and you just can’t keep your hands off her,” Bucky shrugged casually and though you could tell it was an act, Jack couldn’t. He would have laughed it off it was any other woman, but it was you, and he certainly didn’t believe for a second that Bucky could feel that way about you.

“Church or not,” Bucky continued, “I just couldn’t keep myself together. Thought I was gonna lose it if I couldn’t have her right then. But I’m sure you remember how it is.”

Jack nodded tensely though he was lying through his teeth. He never wanted you in the way Bucky was describing and you could feel your heart breaking at the thought that no one ever would. Bucky was acting, playing the part he assigned for himself earlier in the evening when he was talking to Marci just to spare you from the humiliation of admitting how truly pathetic you were. He couldn’t possibly be serious, couldn’t actually want those things. Hell, he hardly knew you.

You had to remind yourself again and again that you’d only known Bucky a day and not a lifetime, because it sure as hell felt like an eternity.

“Have a nice night man and congrats,” Bucky said, voice a little flatter, harder. He looked over to the sunset and down to you as he softened. “I’m gonna spend some time with my girl now, if you don’t mind.”

“Yeah, okay,” Jack grumbled, stealing one last look at you before disappearing back into the ballroom.

The second Jack was out of sight, your whole body relaxed. You expected Bucky to jump away from you, shake his hands off awkwardly, but he didn’t budge. He kept his arm draped around your waist, glaring back in Jack’s direction as he mingled with guests beyond the double doors.

“Sorry about all that, doll,” Bucky sighed nervously. “I just saw him touching you like that and how uncomfortable you were and with the bullshit he was saying... I just had to do something.”

You nodded, though you couldn’t meet his eye. Bucky’s hand brushed up against your cheek in startling contrast to the way Jack had touched you, with such a tenderness that his fingertips just barely grazed against your skin. He leaned forward, pressing his forehead to yours, closing his eyes and sighing gently.

“You’re worth so much more than what he says,” Bucky exhaled, holding you gingerly against him. He believed what he said, that much you could tell, but you couldn’t stop the thoughts racing in the back of your mind telling you that he was wrong, that he was naïve and making you out to be something you’re not, into a whirlwind fantasy of a girl he met in an airport at midnight. You couldn’t be that forever.

“Bucky, you don’t even know me,” you mumbled defeatedly and you could feel Bucky’s thumb brushing over your cheekbone, the clench in his own jaw at your words.

“You really believe that?” he whispered, his breath touching your lips. “You think it takes months or years to know how you feel about someone? I don’t need time to know I like you, to know you’re a good person and you deserve someone who cares about you, not—not someone who’s going to spend years putting you down and making you feel like you don’t matter. You matter, Y/n. You matter to me.”

Tears were welling in your eyes but you pushed them back. “You’ve only known me a day--”

“Then imagine how it’ll be in a week or a month, if you’ll let me stick around,” Bucky smiled, so incredibly sincere and it made your heart flutter. “I meant what I said. I had hoped you’d call. I was thinking I could take you out on a real date and show you this spot in Brooklyn I think you’d like in the park surrounded by flowers and this tiny little vender with the thickest Italian accent you’ll ever hear in your life.”

You laughed a bit at that before you realized and Bucky pressed his lips to your forehead, soft and warm and aching close.

“I never thought you’d call so soon, but believe me when I say I’m happy that you did,” Bucky continued, wrapping both of his arms around your shoulders as you tucked your face against his neck, inhaling the warmth of his scent. He sighed, adjusting his stance but not lessening his hold on you for anything. “I got to see you all dressed up and impress you with my best friend’s suit. Plus, did you see the look on Jack’s face? That asshole finally saw what he was missing out on.”

“That’s sweet, Bucky, but I think he’s just bitter he can’t control me the way he used to,” you shrugged, arms circling around his waist. Cheek pressed to his chest, you listened to the tender thumps of his heartbeat as you gazed out at the stunning array of colors lighting up the sky.

“Who cares what he thinks,” Bucky concluded and you could hear the soft laugh in his voice. He pulled you back after a moment, smiling at you and brushing the crease from your cheek earned from the fold of his lapel. “Can we get out of here now?”

“Yeah, I’m done putting myself through hell,” you nodded, taking his hand as he extended it to you, leading you back into the ballroom to escape through the front door.

You walked past Jack and Lena as they stood by the cake, ready to cut the first slice, and Jack’s eyes followed you across the ballroom as you trailed behind Bucky, narrowed and bitter. You only pursed your lips at him, the smile not reach your eyes as you gave a subtle wave and followed Bucky out the door.

Marci was lingering in the hallway and she parted her lips to say something but Bucky held up a hand, silencing her before she could speak.

“Sorry Mary, we’re heading out,” Bucky waved and her whole face scrunched up in anger as she grumbled her name under her breath. You burst into laughter as Bucky turned over his shoulder to wink at you as he threw open the double doors, leading you out into the cold, crisp air.

You might have expected for him to drop your hand the moment you were free from the lingering stares of Jack and Marci, but he didn’t. He held it firm in his own as he led you down the sidewalk, amongst the busy nightlife and under the blanket of dark blue freckled in stars.

A chill swept up your spine and Bucky only released your hand for a moment to shrug his jacket off his shoulders and swing it around yours.

“You don’t have to do that,” you said quickly, though the warmth of it and the smell of him flooding your senses make it incredibly difficult to object. Bucky shook his head, helping you slide your arms into the sleeves and though it draped loosely around you, he smiled like you were the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

“I’ve got long sleeves and pants, doll,” Bucky chuckled, grabbed your hand again and swinging it by his side as he kept pace, “and you have neither. I’m good.”

“Only if you’re sure,” you mumbled, snuggling into the jacket and leaning just a few inches closer to him with every step.

“Oh, I’m definitely sure. Might let you keep it and everything. Looks better on you than it ever did on me.”

You raised an eyebrow. “I thought you side this was your friend’s suit.”

“Steve won’t mind,” he shrugged with a grin. “The guy’s about twice his own size by now. He wore this back in his transition phase between being a twig and full-blown Adonis. I doubt he could fit into it these days.”

“It’s such a good color on you, Bucky, I’d hate to miss the opportunity to see you in it again,” you teased, surprised by the confidence in your own voice and for the first time, Bucky nearly choked on his own words.

“Yeah, well I guess you’ll have to return it to me next time, then.” He beamed at you and though it was dark and he was barely illuminated by the light of the streetlamps, you could see the slight flush in his cheeks.

You walked with Bucky nearly ten minutes before he pulled you to a slow stop in front of an ice-cream shop with stickers in the windows and two teenagers sitting on the counter, talking to one another with cell phones in their hands and bright red t-shirts displaying the name of the shop across the back.

“This was my plan in the event you wanted to ditch,” Bucky explained, pulling you up to the counter. “Google has it at 4.6 stars so it better be just-went-to-an-ex's-wedding-and-he's-still-a-huge-fucking-asshole good.”

You laughed, shoving Bucky’s shoulder and the teenagers behind the counter must have caught onto your presence. One came jumping up to the counter with blonde hair thrown in a messy bun on the top of her head and rows of hair ties on her wrist. She grinned at Bucky before glancing back at her friend. You laughed under your breath, knowing this would just have to be something to get used to if Bucky was really going to stick around. You were working on believing him.

“I’ll take a Rocky Road, and,” he turned to you, “what do you want, doll?”

“Mint chocolate chip,” you answered, clinging onto his arm and watching excitedly as the girl in the back of the shop started to scoop.

It had been ages since you’d been to a small ice cream shop like this, run by local teenagers at absence hours and has probably been around for decades. There wasn’t even anywhere to sit but you figured it had to be good if it was still standing amongst all the hipster joints and cafes.

Bucky paid for the ice cream before you could even notice and he handed you your cone with a grin. You pouted at him and took the cone gratefully. It was cold on your teeth as you licked around the sides, but it was perfection. Definitely worth those 4.6 stars. Might even be fall-in-love-with-the-handsome-stranger-at-the-airport good.

“Thank you,” you said as you went in for another scoop, lapping up the melting drips as it threatened to slip down your hand. Bucky watched you amusingly, chuckling sweetly as he gestured to a bench sitting facing a small park.

As you sat down, Bucky’s arm draped around your shoulders over the back of the bench. He settled in next to you and you found yourself scooting closer to him. You sat in silence together, just watching the birds at the played in the tiny fountain a few feet away and giggling as Bucky tried to avoid getting chocolate stains on his white shirt. You took your last bite and wiped the edges of your lips with your napkin, looking up to Bucky to find he had finished too.

“You have a bit of, um,” you laughed nervously as he furrowed his brow. Stretching up, you licked the edge of your thumb before you brought it to the corner of his lips, swiping at the chocolate on his cheek. Bucky bit his lip, face heating slightly as he watched you, though once the chocolate was gone, you made no effort to pull away.

“Thanks,” he sighed, like a plea in his voice giving you the courage you needed and you surged forward, capturing his lips in your own.

It didn’t take more than a second for Bucky to respond as your hands cupped at his cheeks, drawing him closer and his arms snaked around your waist. His lips were cold, tasting of chocolate and almonds that only intensified as he parted his lips further, his tongue sweeping at your own and you choked back a moan. His hands roamed around your hips, gentle and longing, and holding you as close as he could manage because even with your lower lip between his own, it wasn’t enough.

But then, the sharp ring of his phone echoed through the park, startling you enough to force you to jump back, panting, lips swollen in the kiss and Bucky groaned. He sent you an apologetic grimace as he glanced down at the caller ID, his whole body slumping as he lifted it to his ear.

“Hey ma,” Bucky answered, his voice already drained in the effort. “’Course I’ll be there. Why would you think I’d back out?... Does she know yet?... I’m trying my best here ma but I can’t guarantee she’ll--... No, you don’t understand I’m--… Yeah, okay. See you tomorrow.”

Bucky hung up the phone, a dejected look on his face as he slid it back into his pocket. “I really wish she would have chosen just about any other moment to call.”

You smiled, leaning forward to kiss his cheek and he started to relax a little.

“You helped me forget about tomorrow for a while,” he said, rubbing his hand over your thigh. “Don’t know the last time anyone was able to get me out of my own head. Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me, Buck,” you whispered sincerely. “You’re the one that crashed the wedding. You showed up all on your own. Didn’t even invite you or anything.”

Bucky laughed, drawing the crinkles by his eyes and the warm-hearted smile you adored. He sighed, letting out a heavy exhale before he spoke again, though he kept his gaze straight ahead. “Do you think—Is there any way you’d want to-- Would you maybe--”

“Yes,” you answered quickly, not even having to take a second to think. He turned to you with wide eyes, surprised. “Yes, Bucky, I’ll go with you. You helped me through today, didn’t you? You made an unbearable situation... fun. I know it’s not the same and I know this is family and it’s fragile, but if you want some support, if you want someone to hold your hand and remind you that you’re incredibly selfless and strong and kind and that under it all, your sister still loves you, no matter what happens, I’m there.”

“You’d do that?” His voice was so small, insecure and lost and you wondered if that was how you sounded to him when you talked about Jack. Broken, hurting. It tore at your heart.

“Absolutely,” you replied, grabbed his hand and pulling him back to his feet. “Come on, now. It’s almost two in the morning. We should get you back to your place before the sun rises if you want to look presentable for this graduation.”

Bucky nodded, dragging his feet playfully as you tugged him towards the road, waving for a taxi. On your first try, a yellow cab pulled up by the curb and you winked at him. He shook his head in awe.

“I ever tell you how happy I am it was you I met in Charlotte?”

“You might have mentioned it,” you shrugged with a grin.

Bucky opened the door for you and gestured for you to slide in but you shook your head.

“My hotel’s right here, actually,” you said pointing to the building across the street. The cab driver started fussing the in the front and Bucky slipping a few dollars through his window just to wait. The was a slight panic in his face, like he wasn’t ready for the night to end so soon.

“Text me the address and when to meet you,” you said, grabbing his hand and playing with the lifelines on his palm. “I’ll be there, Bucky. I promise you aren’t alone in this. I’m with you.”

He nodded quickly, trying to convince himself. The seamless transitions between this flirty, teasing man with confidence unlike anything you’d ever seen and the shy, insecure guy with a guilt complex the size of Brooklyn was baffling to watch, but he was pieces of a whole. He was both at once.

You leaned up onto the tops of your toes and pressed a quick kiss to his lips; soft, chaste, and gone before he had the chance to deepen it. You smiled at him, gently shoving him down into the taxi as the cab driver started to grumble under his breath again.

“Tomorrow,” you promised and Bucky nodded. Kissing the back of your hand as you slowly pulled away.

“Tomorrow,” he agreed and let you close the door. You watched from your spot on the sidewalk as the taxi pulled out into the empty road and waited until it disappeared from view.

Once he was gone, you quickly made your way across the street to your hotel, giving a slight wave to the hostess behind the counter. In your room, you shrugged off Bucky’s jacket and hung it up on a hanger from the closet, pressing out the wrinkles and examining it for any drips of light green ice-cream. Then, you changed into your pajamas, wiped your face of makeup and climbed into fresh linen sheets.

To your left, your phone buzzed on the nightstand. You picked it up to find a single text.

I’m with you, too.

You held your phone to your chest, smiling so wide it ached in your cheeks. You fell asleep a few minutes later, the phone still clutched in your hand. Bucky’s light blue jacket hanging in the closet.

To believe I walk alone Is a lie that I've been told So let your heart hold fast For this soon shall pass Like the high tide takes the sand [Let Your Heart Hold Fast – Fort Atlantic]

feedback is so so appreciated 💖

tags 🌸 @sweetheartbarnes / @musiclover1263 / @pies-wands-and-more / @buckygrantbarnes / @mywinterwolf / @breatheeagainnnn / @jewelofwinter / @panic-naran / @fairislesheets / @kaliforniacoastalteens / @captain-hammer-of-asgard / @daydreamsquad / @deanssweetheart / @maybesomedaytho / @montypythonsholysnail / @saharzek / @imsoft-barnes / @galaxkay / @vitamingrant / @alohafromhell1 / @happyeyesandsunshine / @hillface89 / @searchingforbucky / @20coldhearts / @past-perfect-future-tense / @bucknasty-barnes / @clarysthing / @denimandcabernet / @ohthedevilsanus / @sarcasm-ing / @yknott81 / @jackie-houston / @michelehansel / @sanniegirl1214 / @grey-water-colors

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #marvel

1K notes · View notes

hajimes-erect-ahoge · 3 years

Text

Postmortem- Chapter 18

Shuichi finally confronts Kokichi.

ao3

Finding Ouma proved to be much harder than expected, Saihara’s few moments of hesitation seeming to be all that the other boy needed to get a headstart. After he dashed up the stairs, Saihara was left with an empty corridor. The rest of the boys must have made their way back to their rooms already, as there was no one in sight.

The apartment complex wasn’t necessarily that big, leaving only a few places that Ouma could’ve gone. That is, if he was even in the apartment complex to begin with. Allowing himself to make the assumption that Ouma hadn’t gone far, Saihara set off to check the common room and the dorms, as well as asking the others if they had seen the other boy.

The more time that passed, the more frantic Saihara became. The puzzle pieces slowly started to click in his mind, cementing the fact that Ouma was indeed being genuine with his confession. And of course, Saihara had to accuse him of lying, only aiding in making the situation more of a mess. Nonetheless, there was nothing he could do now but pray that he would find Ouma soon so he could apologize to him.

~~~~~~~~~~

Ouma had discovered this place not too long after moving into the apartment complex, his natural inclination to explore the place taking over. Right at the end of the hall where the dorms were located there was a closet, similar to the one in the hospital. Anyone else would’ve just ignored this, but Ouma, being naturally curious, felt compelled to investigate it. His suspicions as to where this door led were confirmed when he was met with a staircase, presumably leading up to the roof. He filed this information in the back of his head, storing it there for later use.

Right now was the perfect time to use that information, he thought to himself as he sat cross-legged near the edge of the roof. It wasn’t nearly as high up as the roof of the hospital was, and he wasn’t as scarily close to the edge as he was when he sat there, but it fulfilled its purpose of giving him a place to be alone with his thoughts.

Belatedly, he recalled the time when Saihara found him up on the roof and reassured him that he wasn’t alone. Ouma found himself missing the warmth of Saihara’s hand by his face, lingering there after gently tucking his hair behind his ear.

But now all that he felt was cold.

In a way, he supposed that he deserved this. Being alone had always been his default state of being, and he was a fool for believing that he could live otherwise. It was his fault for allowing himself to fall prey to the delusion that he could be loved by someone else, be wanted by someone else. Especially when that someone else was Saihara.

The truth was that Saihara deserved better than him. He deserved someone who didn’t come with so much baggage and so many layers of distrust, someone who was capable of loving him like he should be loved. Ouma could never be that person for Saihara.

Maybe it was better this way. Having Ouma’s impulsive and heartfelt confession be dismissed as a lie was logically the best thing that could happen, as the two of them could continue their lives being just friends and nothing more.

...So why did it hurt so much?

Smothering his feelings and lying to Saihara about his feelings was the best course of action, so why did it hurt so much?

Maybe he was tired of lying, parading around and disguising himself as someone that he wasn’t. But lying was all that he knew how to do. When he wasn’t lying he was running away from his problems, ignoring the pang in his chest when Saihara called out his name and chased after him.

Suppressing his emotions, running away, ignoring the pain- it was a vicious cycle of suffering for Ouma. But if bearing this pain meant that others could be happy he would willingly do so, subjecting himself to this torment until the day he dies. As long as Saihara was happy everything would be okay.

The plan was simple: Ouma would act as if nothing happened between him and Saihara, dodging any of the other boy’s attempts to bring up his confession. As far as Ouma was concerned, the whole exchange had never even happened in the first place. The purpose of this was to make sure Saihara was blissfully unaware of Ouma’s feelings, allowing him to live in peace while Ouma suffered internally. Everything would be fine that way.

But of course, the universe had other plans for him.

~~~~~~~~~~

Saihara had been pacing throughout the apartment, having failed in locating Ouma. He knew that the other boy would have to return there eventually, so he waited.

And boy did Ouma keep him waiting.

It was long after Momota had gone to bed, the night stretching on uncomfortably. Saihara couldn’t sleep even if he wanted to, worry gnawing at his heart with every passing second. Had he really hurt Ouma so much that he didn’t even want to face him? Or was he just overthinking things and Ouma was completely fine?

No, there’s no way he isn’t upset… I’m almost certain that his confession was genuine.

As the implications of that statement became more apparent, the logical part of Saihara’s brain came to a screeching halt.

Wait a second… Ouma-kun has feelings for me?!

Eyes wide and face flushed, Saihara had to fight off his internal sense of doubt as he tried to calm himself down.

His brain immediately fired a plethora of responses to the conclusion he had just drawn, trying to convince him that he was wrong. But each and every one of these excuses was shot down with the logical facts of the situation.

If Ouma-kun was lying, why would he have run away like that? It just doesn’t make sense…

All feelings of drowsiness left his body as he was now alert, nervously chewing at his bottom lip as his brain frantically fired one thought after another.

But Ouma-kun having feelings for me doesn’t make sense either! Why would he even see me that way?! I’m so boring and awkward, and he’s so entertaining and smart… and cute…

Saihara was so engrossed with his thoughts that he didn’t even notice Ouma strategically opening the door as quietly as possible, slipping into the apartment without being detected.

Ouma had almost made it to the bedroom when the wooden floor beneath him creaked, signaling his presence. Saihara gave a surprised yelp, having been startled out of his thoughts of utter disbelief. He turned towards the source of the disturbance only to spot Ouma, who was standing there as nonchalantly as possible.

“Well if it isn’t my beloved Saihara-chan! I totally didn’t even see you there!” The sarcasm in his voice was evident, making it clear that he didn’t want to talk.

“Um… Ouma-kun? Can I-”

Ouma gave a theatrical yawn, cutting Saihara off mid-sentence.

“Wow, would you look at that! I’m beat!” He made his way to the bedroom, swinging open the door. “I better get to bed now! Good night, Saihara-chan!”

“W-Wait! About before-” Saihara desperately tried to gain Ouma’s attention, but it was no use.

“Oh, by the way!” Ouma drummed his fingers along the edge of the door, not even bothering to turn and face Saihara. “I’ll be sleeping in your bed again! Alone.”

The door to the bedroom was slammed shut, Ouma having no concern for the sleeping Momota. Meanwhile, Saihara stood there dumbfounded at how easily he was shut out.

With a sigh, he made himself comfortable on the couch, resigning himself to sleeping there as he was too cowardly to face Ouma once more.

This is gonna be harder than I thought…

~~~~~~~~~~

The next few days were filled with similar encounters, in which Saihara attempted to bring up their conversation in the game room and Ouma came up with increasingly creative solutions as to why he couldn’t talk at the time.

When Saihara wasn’t trying to bring up what occurred between them, Ouma would act completely normal. But as soon as he tried changing the subject, Ouma would hit the abort button and immediately leave to go somewhere else. It didn’t help that Ouma was exceptionally observant, being able to detect whenever Saihara was about to bring up what happened. The ex-detective was never particularly good at hiding his emotions, after all.

The amount of times that Saihara failed to confront Ouma was starting to get ridiculous, making him almost consider dropping the subject completely. Almost.

But Saihara had a few ideas of his own, having figured out Ouma’s pattern by now. Every time he would even come close to having a serious talk with him, Ouma would bolt out of the room with some extravagant excuse after dismissing Saihara’s statements completely. If he was able to corner Ouma and leave him no means of escape, then Saihara could successfully spring the dreaded discussion upon him.

Although trapping him somewhere and forcing him to talk about something he clearly didn’t want to talk about seemed a bit cruel, it was inevitable as Ouma had left him no other choice. While he couldn’t guarantee that Ouma would cooperate once they were alone, the fact that they would be talking in the first place would be progress, even if it was only Saihara speaking.

Ignoring what had happened was simply not an option. Not when guilt overloaded Saihara’s brain every time he spoke with Ouma, wishing that he had handled the situation differently. He was going to fix this, and he was going to do it now.

Saihara glanced at the clock, taking note of the time. It was almost noon, and Ouma was usually awake by now. Normally, Saihara would also be waking up around now, but he hadn’t been sleeping as well the past few days after what happened. After excusing himself from the living room where he and Momota were, Saihara made his way to the bedroom to confront Ouma.

He could practically feel his heart thrumming against his ribcage as he slowly opened the door to the bedroom, the prospect of talking with Ouma about this sending flutters down his stomach. While it was true that Saihara had tried speaking with him about this many times, the reality that it was actually about to happen made him even more nervous than before. Nonetheless, he forced himself to continue, stepping into the bedroom gingerly.

“Ouma-kun?” Saihara spoke barely above a whisper, not wanting to startle the other boy. “Are you awake?”

Entering the room, Saihara saw Ouma sitting up in his bed, staring back at him tiredly. After a few beats of silence Ouma perked up, plastering a fake smile onto his face.

“Gooood morning, Saihara-chan!” he drawled cheerfully, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. “Man, what time is it? I don’t know about you but I slept like a baby last night!” He stretched his arms out in front of him, yawning theatrically.

“Good morning.” Ignoring his shaking hands, Saihara closed the door behind him, standing in front of it and blocking off Ouma’s escape route. The other boy immediately recognized his intentions, eyes widening and body tensing noticeably. “Listen, Ouma-kun…” With a sigh, Saihara continued. “I’ve been trying to talk to you for a while but you kept avoiding me, so-”

“Hmm? I have nooo idea what you’re talking about!” Ouma sprung out of bed, approaching Saihara with a glare. “Maybe Saihara-chan needs to go back to bed since he keeps imagining things!”

Although he was smiling, his eyes betrayed feelings of anger and resentment as he stared daggers at Saihara, silently telling him to drop the subject and move out of the way. But Saihara was surprisingly stubborn, having been fed up with Ouma’s constant avoidance and running away. He crossed his arms, unmoving.

“I’m not imagining anything. I know exactly what you’re trying to do and it’s not going to work.” Saihara refuted Ouma’s words, the other boy narrowing his eyes bitterly. “I’m not leaving until you hear me out.” Saihara allowed his gaze to soften, attempting to put Ouma at ease. “I understand that this must be hard for you but I can’t let you keep running away from your feelings. Not when…”

Saihara clenched his fists, staring down at the ground. A flurry of emotions had overwhelmed him, clouding his mind. Meanwhile, Ouma was silent, giving Saihara time to collect his thoughts and put them into words.

After having adequate time to piece his thoughts together, Saihara looked back towards Ouma. “I-I care about you a lot, Ouma-kun. I like you a lot, too. And I’m sorry for not believing you the other day. I just…” Saihara gulped, fighting the urge to cry. “I find it so hard to believe that someone like you has feelings for someone like me. I’m so boring and awkward and I just don’t understand why-”

“Shh, it’s okay Saihara-chan.” Ouma was suddenly by his side, wiping away his tears. “Just breathe, okay? I’m right here.”

Saihara gave a weak nod, leaning into the touch. Ouma wasn’t used to comforting others besides the standard affirmations, so he stood in silence as Saihara composed himself.

“Thank you, Ouma-kun.” Saihara sniffled, “I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have accused you of lying when you said that you liked me. I just couldn’t believe it, you know?” He gave a small smile, a hint of sadness still behind it. “But I should’ve known better… You’ve grown so much since the killing game, you wouldn’t lie about something like that. And then you ran away and I just felt awful… So I’m sorry. Again.”

Ouma stared at him blankly, hesitantly speaking.

“Geez, Saihara-chan… You don’t need to keep apologizing like that…”

He was silent for a moment before continuing, his expression shifting into something more serious.

“I’m sorry too. For avoiding you.” Ouma sighed, looking over his shoulder, “I guess I could’ve handled this a lot better… But where’s the fun in that?” He gave a sly smile, breathing a sigh of relief when Saihara smiled back, shaking his head.

“But seriously…” Ouma’s smile vanished, his serious expression returning. “I do really like you, Saihara-chan. And that’s not a lie.”

“I like you too, Ouma-kun. I think it’s cute how you always cling to me, and I really appreciate you being vulnerable with me… So if it’s okay with you, I’d really like to pursue a deeper relationship with you… O-Oh, but only if you want to, of course!” Saihara stammered.

When he looked back at Ouma he noticed that his face was flushed, accompanied by a small pout. Saihara was worried that he said something wrong, but then Ouma smiled ever so slightly, staring at the ground.

“Of course I would like that, you dummy…” he mumbled, almost going unheard by Saihara.

“R-Really?!” Saihara nearly shouted, giving a sheepish smile.

“Uh-huh!” Ouma affirmed proudly, “But only if Saihara-chan promises to buy me all the Panta in the world!”

Saihara chuckled, “Anything to make you happy.”

“Great!” Ouma skipped over to Saihara, suddenly embracing him. Saihara froze momentarily before wrapping his arms around Ouma, holding him even closer.

Ouma pulled away much too quickly for Saihara’s liking, leaving him craving more contact with the boy.

“Well don’t just stand there! We’ve got to get ready, right?” Ouma announced excitedly.

“Uhh, sure…” Saihara agreed confusedly. “Wait, what are we getting ready for exactly?”

“Our first date, of course!” Ouma frowned, his bottom lip quivering as crocodile tears threatened to stream down his face. “D-Don’t tell me… Saihara-chan doesn’t love me anymore?!”

Saihara chuckled at the other boy’s theatrics, shaking his head. “A first date sounds great. What do you want to do?”

“Hmm…” Ouma thought for a moment before settling on the easiest and quickest option, taking Saihara’s hand in his. “Close your eyes and come with me!”

Barely having time to protest against the sudden action or voice his confusion, Saihara was suddenly being dragged out of the apartment by an overly excited Ouma, their destination unknown. Wherever they were going was fine with Saihara, as he was content going anywhere as long as it was with Ouma.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Open your eyes!”

Saihara did as he was told, opening his eyes and allowing himself to take in their surroundings. His eyes landed on a bench in the distance, surrounded by a plethora of green grasses as well as a walking path and even a fountain.

“The park?” Saihara wondered aloud, looking towards Ouma for confirmation.

“Yep!” Ouma chirped, “There’s a walking path that’ll take us through the whole park, so we can talk while we explore!”

“That’s right… We’ve come here for training so many times but we’ve never really explored the place.” Saihara added thoughtfully.

“Exactly! Now come on, let’s get going!” Ouma led Saihara towards the direction of the walking path, bouncing up and down eagerly.

Their hands still entwined with one another, they set about walking along the path. Every now and then they would pass some other couples or individuals walking down the path, who fortunately paid no attention to the two boys. The scenery of the park wasn’t anything particularly noteworthy, but it was a nice change of pace from being inside the apartment all of the time. There were bushes, trees, and various structures such as benches and small statues, the sun shining brightly and the breeze blowing ever so lightly.

As expected, Ouma carried most of the conversation, ranting to Saihara about anything and everything that came to mind, the other boy enjoying his company greatly. While the thought of being seen holding hands with someone in public made him quite nervous, the sight of Ouma’s brightly smiling face was more than enough to put his nerves at ease.

Being seen holding hands with Ouma wasn’t his only worry, however. Saihara couldn’t tell if it was due to his habit of overthinking or if it was due to his exceptional skills of observation, but he couldn’t help but worry about the other boy. Just yesterday he was avoiding Saihara at all costs, bottling up his feelings and avoiding confrontation. Although he definitely seemed to be enjoying himself right now, Saihara wondered if he was still holding back some of his true emotions. But now wasn’t the time to bring that, he supposed. They were having a great time together and Saihara didn’t intend on ruining the mood.

Eventually, the path they were walking on looped around and brought them back to their destination. The sun was just about to set, the breeze picking up as clouds gathered together in the sky. A few droplets of rain fell from the sky, interrupting Saihara and Ouma’s conversation.

Ouma stopped walking and stuck his hands out experimentally, not being surprised when more droplets of water landed on him. Meanwhile, Saihara gazed up at the clouds, taking note of how the sky darkened.

“We should hurry back… It looks like a storm is heading in.” Saihara observed.

Ouma nodded, quickening his pace as he and Saihara headed back to the apartment complex.

They had only been walking for a few moments when it started to downright pour, effectively soaking the both of them. Freezing in place due to sheer shock at the suddenness of it all, the two boys simply looked at each other, resigning themselves to their fate.

Then Ouma giggled.

“Are you…” Saihara blinked, trying to get water droplets out of his eyes so he could see clearly. “Are you laughing?”

“Nishishi, maybe I am!” Ouma stole Saihara’s jacket from him, running off with it. “But I think you have bigger problems right now!”

“Ugh, Ouma-kun, seriously?” Saihara gave chase, carefully avoiding the puddles that Ouma haphazardly stepped in. “Give that back! We need to get back to the apartment, now!”

Thankfully for Saihara, Ouma stopped running and held his jacket in front of him. Just as Saihara caught up to him he realized that he was holding it over a giant puddle that had formed, snickering deviously.

“Is something wrong, Saihara-chan?” he taunted, fully aware of what he was doing.

“Ouma-kun…” Saihara’s expression darkened.

“Yes?”

“Give it back.”

“Make me!”

Saihara lunged for his jacket, but he was too slow. His jacket fell into the puddle, and Saihara felt at least lucky that he had nothing in his pockets.

Rather than scolding Ouma for his childish behavior, Saihara smirked, feeling more playful now than ever. Ouma noticed this, feeling taken aback for a short moment before composing himself.

“You’re so gonna get it now.” Saihara pulled his jacket out of the puddle, slowly and ominously walking up to Ouma.

“Oh? What’re you gonna do, huh?” Ouma asked cockily.

His question was answered when Saihara quickly and swiftly wrapped the wet jacket around Ouma’s head, the jacket falling onto his shoulders and swallowing his small figure. Saihara laughed as Ouma peeled the jacket off of his head, tossing it back towards Saihara.

“Blegh! What was that for?!” Ouma complained, rubbing at his wet face.

“You wanted my jacket so badly I decided to give it to you.” Saihara commented slyly, causing Ouma to stick out his tongue at him.

“Fine, fine… You win!” Ouma pouted, “Just take me back to the apartment already, I’m starting to get cold!” He accentuated his words with a shiver, making Saihara feel a twinge of guilt for what he did.

“Sure… And I’m sorry for wrapping your head with my soaking wet jacket.” Despite his words, Saihara couldn’t help but smile at the absurdity of it all. Only someone like Ouma could bring out this side of him.

“You better be! Now let’s go!” Ouma took Saihara’s hand once more, the two of them making their way back to the apartment complex.

It may have been cold, rainy and dark out, but neither of them regretted coming to the park that day.

#postmortem #my writing #danganronpa #danganronpa v3 #kokichi ouma #kokichi oma #shuichi saihara #oumasai #saiouma #ousai #saiou

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buckyodinson · 4 years

Text

The First (Agent Whiskey x fem!Reader)

Request from anon: agent whiskey x reader w/ shy (forst tiem) valentine s e x and he lowkey likes it alot alot in the sense that homie is taller than her and she sexually frustrated him by teasing him without her meaning too? coz shes shy?? 🤝😳

Word Count: 5.4k (I don’t know where it all came from!)

A/N: SMUT! I don’t claim to be a great writer when it comes to smut, so I hope this reads okay?

It was fair to say that you turned some heads at the Statesman agency. You were one of the youngest agents there, but you rose through the ranks quickly and became one of the most highly skilled agents they had. Within just a few months, you were already working with the likes of Tequila and Whiskey. They were both floored the first time you were sent on an assignment with them, and you kicked total ass on the field. It was a complete 180 from your usual demeanour. Usually, you were quite reserved and wouldn’t pipe up during meetings or briefs, and you mostly kept to yourself, but on assignments and recon missions, you were a whole other person. Both men flirted with you constantly, and you would blush and smile in response, too shy to respond to their comments.

Tequila’s infatuation with you was just that, it was a fleeting feeling, and soon he would just compliment you to see you blush, not actually wanting anything from it. Whiskey, however, found himself falling for you. He was a little baffled at first as it was a foreign feeling to him. It had been a long time since he’d truly felt that way about someone before, but it almost gave him whiplash when he realised he was actually falling in love with you.

He was completely enamoured with you. He loved your quiet nature, finding it adorable that you would often be found in your office reading a book if you had no paperwork to be filling out. You could speak your mind if needs be and had done on several occasions. Once, when Ginger was voted against on a promotion, you slammed your first on the table, muttering ‘this system is bullshit’ before storming out of the office. Naturally, you went and found Champ afterwards and apologised profusely for the way you acted, but Whiskey thought it was endearing how much you cared for your friends. Obviously, he found you to be incredibly attractive too, and he’d be lying if he said watching you out on the field didn’t do anything to him.

After a lot of assignments where you were paired or grouped together, Whiskey would go to his room and get off to the thoughts of you beating the shit out of whoever you’d been sent after. He’s a little embarrassed about how often his nights end in that way, but he just can’t help it. And even just around the headquarters too, he couldn’t get enough of you. On the odd occasion, you would come into work in a denim number (which he most definitely appreciated), most days you would be in smart clothes - a nice blouse tucked into either some tailored trousers or a pencil skirt, sometimes a cute dress. And Whiskey could not get enough of it. Hearing your little heels clicking down the hallway was one of his favourite things to hear.

He would never admit to it, but in some of the shared spaces in the headquarters, like the break room, he would purposefully put things on shelves a little bit taller than where you could reach, so he could swoop in and get them for you. You weren’t super short by any means, but they were shelves even he’d have to reach for. You’d always give it your best shot to get them yourself (and he did feel a little pervy enjoying the view sometimes), before ultimately turning around and, by some miracle, Whiskey was always there to help, giving you a wink and a “It’s no problem at all, sugar” type response to your thanks. Sometimes he felt a bit cruel for doing it in the first place, but there was no harm really.

He started laying the flirting on thick sometime just before Christmas, always grabbing you a drink on his way to the office in the morning or offering the buy you lunch or dinner while you were out on missions. Sometimes you’d come into your office to find a single flower laid on your desk, and you’d blush at the thought of Whiskey stopping by a florist that morning and asking for just the one flower.

You had fallen very quickly for Whiskey too. As you started working your way up the ranks of the Statesmen, some people warned you about Whiskey, calling him a womaniser, telling you he brought a new girl home every week and all sorts of similar tales. But when you finally made it to the senior agents’ team and met Whiskey, he was nothing like the rumours. He was a total sweetheart. Sure, he flirted with you a lot, but he certainly didn’t seem like he was taking girls home left, right and centre. You found him to be a very thoughtful man, always grabbing you a drink in the morning, or buying you a little pastry at lunch, reminding you to eat something while you work.

You were shy by nature, and you wished you could put yourself out there a little more and be a bit closer to Whiskey, but you were worried. He was a fair bit older than you, and while he did flirt with you and treat you often, you didn’t want to read too much into it, thinking he wouldn’t be interested in you romantically because you were so much younger. And, to be really honest with yourself, in your time working up to be a Statesman agent so young, you hadn’t really had time for any sexual exploits, so you were severely inexperienced. And because of that, you were a little worried about the rumours about him, worrying he’d think you were too immature for him and move on to the next attractive woman who walked into the distillery who’d gladly fuck him in a heartbeat.

Whiskey was an attractive man, and you would be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about being intimate with him, but having those thoughts would panic you a little because you know how painfully shy you are and how awkward you’d be, and it puts you off the whole thing. You couldn’t help but get a little hot under the collar during missions, seeing him effortlessly use his whip and lasso. You’d definitely thought about whether he’d use them in the bedroom or not, before blushing profusely and getting on with the mission, before excusing yourself as soon as you’d been debriefed, so you could go home and get off to the thought of it.

Whiskey’s flirting and your unintentional teasing had been going on for a while, and you were all at a bar celebrating a mission that ended successfully. People were chatting about their plans for Valentine’s Day in a few weeks, and you offhandedly mentioned you’d never been on a date for Valentines.

Whiskey’s eyebrows shot up, “That can’t be true, doll. You’re telling me nobody has ever taken you out for Valentines?”

You simply shook your head in reply as you took a sip of your drink.

“Well I’m not having that, sugar. How about I take you out, show you how a fine girl like you should be treated on Valentine’s Day?”

You laughed into your drink, “You really don’t have to, Jack. I’m sure I’m not missing out on much.”

“Come on, doll. Let me treat you? I’ll give you the whole Jack Daniels Valentine Experience!” You wondered how intimate a typical Valentines would get for Jack but the way he smiled softly at you made your heart melt, and who can say no to those puppy dog eyes.

“Okay, cowboy.” You rolled your eyes, but your heart was fluttering in your chest.

In that few weeks leading up to Valentine’s Day, you would find flowers, chocolates, balloons and sweet little handwritten notes in your office, and you would feel heat crawl up your neck every time you opened your office door and see what awaited you. The day before Valentines, you came into your office to find a box tied with a bow, that had a small note attached to it.

‘Saw this and thought of you, doll. Maybe you could wear it tomorrow? X’

You opened the box to find a beautiful black dress. It was a very classic looking dress, with a white collar and little embroidered flowers along the sleeves and the hem, and it stopped just short of your knees. You were shocked when you saw it, expecting Jack to be the kind of man to buy a sexy, revealing dress for a woman to wear on a date, and it only made you fall for him more. He wasn’t pushing you into anything he knew you’d be uncomfortable with, and he genuinely seemed to know you well. At the bottom of the box, was a note saying that he’d pick you up from your apartment at 7, and to expect ‘the best date of your life’, which frankly wasn’t hard to beat. You’d only been on a few dates as a teenager which all ended horribly, and no matter how badly this date with Jack went, you were sure it’d be miles better than the others.

The day came and you were very nervous. You really liked Whiskey and you wanted to make a good impression. You knew it was silly, as he didn’t think of you that way, he was just doing this for you because he was sweet and wanted you to have a fun night. But you were still nervous and paced the hallway of your apartment once you were ready for the night. You had no idea what to expect from the night, and the butterflies in your stomach were raging, but you were excited at the same time.

At 7 on the dot, you heard your doorbell chime, and you took a deep breath before answering the door. You were met by Jack in a suit with a bouquet of flowers and a box of chocolates in his hands. Cliché but you loved it anyway. You opened the door further and he stepped in, pulling you into an embrace and kissing you on the cheek. You blushed and giggled at his action and shut the door behind him, leading him to the kitchen so you could find a vase for the flowers before you left.

“You look amazing, Y/N. The dress looks beautiful on you.” He spoke softly, without his usual flirty tone.

“Thank you, Jack. You’ve cleaned up pretty well yourself, though it is a little odd seeing you without your hat.” You smiled up at him as you put the flowers in a vase and placed them on your windowsill.

“Only for you, darlin’. Nobody else is worth taking the Stetson off for,” He winked as he walked back to the front door, “You ready to go?”

You nodded and followed him out the door. You locked up and followed him out of his building to his car, where he opened the passenger door for you, holding your hand as you stepped into the car, before walking round to the driver’s side and climbing in.

“So, where are you taking me, Mr Daniels.” You smirked at him as he started to drive. The name caught him off guard and he blushed a little, getting the tiniest bit turned on by it.

“You’ll just have to wait and see, angel.”

He drove for about 20 minutes, singing softly to some songs that played on the radio, and chatting idly with you, before pulling up to a bookstore. You raised an eyebrow when he parked the car, and he just smiled at you, before jumping out and all but sprinting to your side of the car so he could help you out before you got out by yourself.

He walked you up to the store and when you walked in and he led you to a back corner of the store, it took your breath away. There were a few small tables in the corner, and you assumed they must have a little cafe set up in the daytime, but one table had been set up with candles and rose petals adorning the floor leading up to it. String lights also lit up the small corner, so the area was quite dimly lit.

“Jack… it’s beautiful.” You we’re at a loss for words, really, and couldn’t quite comprehend the gesture.

“I know you’re not the most extroverted girl out there, so I figured you’d enjoy this more than any fancy restaurant full of other couples.” He pulled out a chair and you sat down in it, not missing the fact that he said ‘other couples’, and definitely not missing the way your heart flipped at that comment.

Food was soon brought out to the pair of you, and you were shocked to see it was your favourite dish. You could’ve only mentioned it once before, but Jack clearly stored that away for future reference, and here it was sat in front of you. At one point he excused himself to go to the bathroom, and the waitress came to collect your plates and spoke to you while she tidied the table, “I must say, you’ve got a real catch. He’s been in and out of here the whole week planning this night, making sure it was perfect for you. I’ve never seen such a doting boyfriend before.” You smiled and she left you alone at the table once more. You pondered her comments for a while - why was Jack making such a big effort for a silly little date like this? But you had to push your thoughts back when Jack returned to the table.

“This is all too much, Jack. You really don’t know how much I appreciate this. Thank you.” You spoke once he returned.

“Not at all, darlin’. And it should be me thanking you for letting me take you out.” He reached across the table to take one of your hands in his, and you blushed.

“Don’t be silly, Jack. I’m sure any girl would throw themselves at your feet to be taken out and treated like this.”

“Maybe… but I wouldn’t care about them the way I care about you.” He looked down at his lap, and he seemed genuinely nervous, a word you’d never heard in the same sentence as Jack.

You didn’t know how to reply to his admission, so just simply squeezed his hand, and he leaned forward and took a deep breath, “I really like you Y/N, and I wanted this night to be perfect, because I wanted to prove that I’m not the guy everybody thinks I am. The guy I’m sure people have told you about may have been me a long time ago. But ever since you joined the agency, I’ve been in awe of you. And I honestly can’t believe I’m sat across from you right now. It feels like some kind of dream, doll. It’s fine if you don’t feel the same, because even if you don’t, I’ll have still had this one perfect evening with you.” He spoke so quietly, and despite the fact that the smile on your face grew bigger as he spoke, he still looked terrified of your answer once he’d finished speaking.

“I feel the same, Jack. You’ve been an absolute gentleman to me ever since we met, and I’ve felt the same for a while now too.” You leaned forward and he captured your lips with his own, giving you a chaste kiss before pulling away and resting his forehead on yours.

“I’ve waited so long to do that, angel.” He whispered sweetly and you both sat there like that for what seemed like an hour, smiling to yourselves like a pair of idiots.

“How would you feel about coming back to my place for a movie and a drink?” The invitation worried you a little, but you saw in his eyes he had no other intentions and it calmed you down.

“I think I’d like that.”

He drove you over to his place, and he told you to make yourself comfortable while he grabbed some drinks. You sat down on his sofa and took in the decor of the room. It was minimalist, but you could see little hints of Jack everywhere, a few photos littered the wall, and one particular photo caught your eye. You walked over to it, and saw it was a photo from the gala the Statesmen had at Christmas. You weren’t the biggest person for fancy parties, but you went to it, knowing Jack would be there, and you actually had a great time. The picture in front of you had you, Jack and Champ sat at your usual seats in the briefing room, but all in Santa hats and pulling ridiculous faces.

You smiled at the photo and jumped when Jack came up behind you and laid a hand on your back.

“Hope you don’t think it’s weird that I have that photo up, doll.”

“Not at all, it’s cute.”

He led you back over to the sofa, where he sat and you tucked yourself into his side, your head resting against his chest. He covered you both with a blanket and wrapped his arm around you, resting it on your thigh. Your hand was laid on his stomach and you absentmindedly rubbed your thumb against his shirt as you watched the move Jack put on. Jack was doing the same with the hand on your thigh, and you couldn’t help but focus on how nice the small movement felt, instead of watching the movie. Little did you realise, you were having the same effect on Jack, and he was getting more turned on by the minute. He could see a small tent forming in his pants and prayed to god you wouldn’t notice, not wanting to ruin a sweet moment like this.

But then you tucked yourself closer into his side and stretched your arm out slightly, and it grazed his crotch and he couldn’t quite catch the moan that left his lips at the fleeting touch. You gasped and sat up when you realised what had happened. You looked at him with wide eyes and saw his pupils were blown. The sight made you weak in the knees, but also scared you and when he leaned forward to capture your lips you quickly excused yourself to go to the bathroom.

Jack sat there confused for a minute before following you and knocking softly on the door.

“You okay in there, sugar?”

“…yeah, yeah I’m okay. I’ll… uh... I’ll be out in a sec.”

He decided to go back and wait for you, and after a few minutes you emerged again and sat next to him.

“What’s up, doll?” He lifted your chin to face him.

“It’s nothing, Jack.”

“Come on, you can tell me anything, angel.” His thumb rubbed light circles into your cheek.

“It’s just… I got a bit freaked out. I’ve never… I’m not very expe… I’m a virgin, Jack.” You spoke barely above a whisper, worried about his response.

“It’s okay, doll. I don’t want to rush you into anything. You just gotta be a little more careful where you’re putting your hand, is all, darling. I’m a red-blooded man, after all.” He laughed at himself to ease your anxiety, and you leaned into his hand in your cheek.

“The thing is… I want to. I’m just nervous… I don’t want to disappoint you.”

“Nothing you could do would disappoint me, Y/N. Everyone’s nervous their first time. It’s natural.” His words eased you and you felt a sudden burst of courage and you lurched forward to kiss him.

Jack was shocked but instantly melted into the kiss, and he shifted you, so you were sat in his lap before pulling away, breathing heavily, “Are you sure about this, sugar? I can wait, honestly. There’s no rush at all.”

You only answered by pulling him towards you and attaching your lips to his again. He groaned into the kiss and pulled your body closer to his. You sighed and wrapped your legs around his waist as he stood up and walked you to his bedroom. He placed you gently down onto his bed before stepping back and admiring your wide pupils and swollen lips.

“Are you sure about this?” He asked once again and you nodded in reply, “I need to hear you say it, doll.”

“Yes, Jack. I want this.” Your breathless voice turning him on further.

He reached for your hands and pulled you to stand. He kissed you again before stepping and walking behind you, and slowly unzipping your dress, attaching his lips to your neck while he did so. You sighed in response and turned your neck further, giving him better access, which he gladly accepted. Once the zip was completely down, Jack ghosted his hands over the skin of your back until they reached the collar of the dress and he pushed it slowly off of your shoulders and down your arms, leaving goosebumps behind where his fingers traced your skin. Once the dress reached your hips, he let go and it dropped to the floor. His touch remained on your hips for another minute or so while he continued to kiss and nip at your neck, before disappearing completely. You turned around slowly to see he had removed his shirt and was undoing his belt. When he noticed you’d turned around, he looked up at your face and smiled before his gaze dropped to your chest. You immediately became self-conscious and crossed your arms in front of your chest. He quickly took his trousers off and let them drop, stepping out of them and placing his hands on your hips.

“Darlin’, these are nothing to be embarrassed by. You haven’t gotta hide from me.” He pulled you flush against him and you felt the hard outline of his cock through his boxers, and you blushed but slowly reached your hand out to touch his now bare chest.

“That’s my good girl.” He drawled and you sighed as he rubbed small circles into your hips, before suddenly lifting you up and wrapping your legs around his waist. You squealed and he laughed into your skin as he left a mark on your neck.

He moved over to the bed and crawled on before laying you down softly into the sheets. He stayed there for what felt like an eternity just kissing along your jaw and neck before reaching behind you and unclasping your bra and flinging it somewhere across the room. You sighed as he left a trail of kisses down the valley of your breasts and then let out a moan when he latched his mouth onto one of them, palming the other with his hand. You dig your fingers into his hair, scratching his scalp and earning a delicious groan from the back of his throat. While he swaps to give your other breast some attention, his hand slips down to your clothed core. He simply runs a single finger lightly over the material of your underwear, and your hips jerk up in response, along with a soft sigh. One hand is fisted into the sheets underneath you, while the other tugs lightly on Jack’s hair, pulling grunts and sighs from him.

Jack slowly kisses his way further down your body, until he reaches your underwear. You think he’s going to pay some attention there, but he simply gives one kiss over the material, which makes your hips jerk again, before carrying on down one leg. He pays attention to your inner thighs, and his touch against the sensitive skin there has you reeling. As he continues further down your legs, he pulls your underwear along with them. Once they’re off, he crawls back up your body until he’s reached your core again. Your legs open wider involuntarily and Jack groans at the sight.

“You’re beautiful, darlin’,” He speaks lowly before reaching a finger out to press softly into your folds. This action pulls a moan from deep in your throat and the sound sends blood straight down to Jack’s already hard cock, “so wet for me already.”

He pulls his finger back and wraps his lips around it and hums, and the sight makes you weak. He settles between your thighs and licks a stripe straight up from your entrance to your hooded clit, and no dreams you’d ever had about Jack in the past could compare to the way his tongue actually felt against you. You felt the soft touch of his fingers moving through your folds, before his tongue finds your bud and gives it small licks before taking it completely into his mouth and sucking on it. You were seeing stars, and your knuckles were white from how hard you were gripping the sheets. His dexterous tongue explores your folds and he hums, and the vibration shoots up your entire body, making you shiver. You gasp when he sinks a finger inside you, and you swear you stop breathing for a minute. You shoot a hand out to grab his hair, and when you tug on it, Jack let’s out a growl and adds another finger to you depths, stretching them apart within you and you feel a coil tighten deep within you.

“Jack…please… God” you sigh, and a lewd moan escapes your mouth, further spurring Jack on, making him double his efforts. He reaches a hand up to grab at your breasts, pinching one of your nipples, and you come completely undone, body tensing. You bring a hand to your mouth and bite down on it to stop from making too much noise, and you actually draw blood, but you’re in complete ecstasy so you don’t even notice. Jack, meanwhile, is still lapping up everything you have to offer him and once you come out of your high, he stops and slowly makes his way back up your body until he’s hovering over you, smirking. You blush and cover your face when you see his mouth and chin are glistening from your release.

“Doll, there’s no need to be embarrassed. That was amazing.” He grabs your hand and sees the blood on it, furrowing his brows “What happened here?”

“I must have bit down too hard on it.” You admitted, still breathing heavily.

“From now on, I don’t want you hiding the noises you make, sugar. They were like music to my ears.” He leans down to capture your lips once more, and you can taste yourself on his tongue, groaning at the sensation. He pulls away to say “There we go, good girl.” before diving in again.

With one hand in his hair, you run the other down his chest, and find the waistband off his boxers. Reaching your hand in slowly to grab his cock, he suddenly grabs your wrist and hovers above you once more, “Are you sure darlin?”

“Yes,” you breath out “I want you to feel good too.”

“This is all about you, not me. And trust me, angel, I’m okay if you want to stop.” He looked down at you so lovingly, and your heart almost stopped.

“Yes, Jack. Please… I want you.”

He gave you quick kiss on the lips before reaching for the cabinet next to the bed and rummaging around the drawer before pulling out a condom. He kicks his boxers off and rolls it on slowly, and you get your first real look at Jack in all his naked glory, and you’re biting your lip without realising it as you watch him. He’s big, and 20 minutes ago you’d be panicking, but you felt much calmer now, and knew Jack wouldn’t do anything to hurt you. He smirks up at you when he feels your gaze on him, “Enjoying the view, sugar?”

“Definitely.” You giggle and reach for him. He obliges and climbs over you again, dipping down to kiss you. He lines himself up with your entrance, and gives you one last chance to stop, and you roll your hips up to meet his, so the tip enters you and you both moan in pleasure. He slowly pushes the rest of the way in until he’s completely sheathed, and he drops his head to your shoulder, panting.

“God, doll. You’re so tight, it’s unreal.” He grunts but stays still, giving you time to adjust to his size, leaving kisses along your collarbone.

“I’m good, please move Jack.” You sigh and Jack starts to pull out slowly before burying himself back to the hilt again. It was painful at first, but soon, the pleasure outgrew the pain and you could feel another orgasm approaching. You wrapped your legs around Jack’s waist again and clawed at his back, “Faster, Jack… please.”

He starts to move a little faster, not being too rough with you though, and he knows he’s not going to last much longer, the way your pussy is clenching him, so he slides a hand between your bodies and starts circling your clit again, trying to get you to catch up with him. The sensation is too much, and you bite down on his shoulder, most definitely leaving a mark there.

“Come on, angel. Almost there. You’re being so good-such a good girl-fuck, I’m so close.” He stutters as his thrusts start to become sloppier, pressing harder against your clit.

You can’t even formulate a coherent reply, but you moan so loudly and it’s all the confirmation Jack needs to know you’re as close as he is, as well as the way you’re clamping down on him. He catches your lips again and after a few more thrusts, his hips stutter as he comes, but he carries on until you follow suit a few seconds later. You both ride out your highs, Jack’s thrusts becoming slower and slower until he comes to a complete stop, and the only sound in the room is your heavy breaths. Jack softens and pulls out of you and flops down next to you.

“That was something else, doll.” Jack speaks through his laboured breaths.

He gets up and throws the condom away in the bathroom and returns with a washcloth to clean you up, giving you wet kisses along your jaw and neck.

“I’m gonna get us a drink, make sure you use the bathroom.” He winks at you when he walks out, and you can’t help but stare at his ass, confirming it looks much nicer out of his jeans than in them.

You take his advice and go to the bathroom, smiling at yourself with how sweet he is, and how much he cares about you. When you’re done, you catch yourself in the mirror. Your hair is a mess, and your make-up is smudged, so you quickly wash your face while you’re there. When you re-emerge in the bedroom, Jack is still naked, sat on top of the sheets leaning against the headboard with two glasses of water in his hands. You quickly hop under the sheets next to him and he hands you one of the glasses. You take a sip and when you’re done, he takes them glasses and puts them on the cabinet beside the bed, before shuffling around until he was under the sheets, and he pulled you flush against him.

“You okay?”

“I’m great, a little sore if I’m honest, but it was definitely worth it.” You giggle and place a hand on his cheek, which he leans into.

“Thank you, Jack. I still can’t quite believe that just happened.” You grinned.

“There’s nothing to thank me for, doll. You deserved everything and more tonight. And I’m glad I’ve got you all to myself now.”

“I don’t know how you’re gonna top Valentine’s Day every year from now though. This one has been perfect.”

“Oh, I’m sure I’ll find a way, sugar. Don’t you worry about that…” he smirked down at you and you leaned up to kiss him.

You turned around in his arms, so your back was against his chest, and the pair of you fell asleep soon after. Both of you falling asleep to the thoughts that you can’t quite believe how lucky you are to be with the other.

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