#but still annoys me how other pairs got of a somewhat constant writing but not this one | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

stopeatingwhales · 3 years

Text

the 1995 brits x damon albarn & liam gallagher

hhhiiii I'm here with a very cute little fic about the brits!! the idea of writing something with Damon and liam fighting over someone was requested quite a long time ago (sorry it’s taken so long omg) but I loved the idea!! I do hope you all enjoy it as I enjoyed writing it a lot hahah xx

Pairing: 90s damon albarn & 90s liam gallagher x reader

Warnings: nothing, just a little bit of bickering n dat

Word count: 3.057

Requested by anon x

༉‧₊˚✧

Being a part of the madness that adapted the name ‘Britpop’ was truly an experience. Paparazzi at every corner you turn, equipped with the brightest, flashiest cameras, also having the most annoying click noises to the point that after one image you’ve earned yourself a migraine that would last the entirety of the day; parties that would last entire nights, bearing millions of different kinds of drugs - some that hadn’t even been given a name yet, but you’d still give a try anyways, since you’re so high and drunk that you simply lose the intellectual capability to construct decisions, you say fuck it, and get so high to the point that you’ve blacked out in a booth in a bar, with the owner asking you to get out since you’ve been inside for one too many hours after closing time; as well as constant press coverage. With your name plastered over literally every newspaper and music magazine known to man, as well as having your entire life consistently dictated for the entire nation to read about every Sunday morning and indulge themselves into as a form of entertainment, it was what being famous delivered, right on your doorstep at 7 in the morning. Any earlier and you’d feel rude not to give them a cup of tea as a form of dignity and respect towards their sublime dedication to the job. Although it was fun being associated with it all, my band in particular gaining a different form of calidity due to it being a female fronted band, by the time that the entire nation was hooked on this ‘Blur vs. Oasis’ rivalry, it was as if every other britpop band had been washed away from existence, due to eight boys arguing as to whom had the better music. And the better looks, according to Liam Gallagher.

Tonight was the night of the Brit awards, perhaps the most prestigious awards ceremony for music. To be awarded a Brit was probably the largest achievement possible in British music in the form of an award, and it was definitely either going tonight to either Blur or Oasis. The chances that another band, say Pulp, were to get the award, would not only be extremely amusing to see the reactions of the two biggest names in the Britpop game, but would also cause the largest uproar in the nation. It’s either Blur or Oasis. “Their drama is so silly,” laughed Emily, the guitarist in our band whilst flicking through the latest edition of the Sun, the cover of the newspaper being, of course, Liam Gallagher. “They’re literally bickering about who looks the best. How do people find this interesting?”

“Because of how silly it is, people never leave their secondary-school-like selves. Just a bit of fun I guess.” I replied, fixing up my hair in the mirror in front of me. We were currently getting ready to go to the award show, and needing to look your best was an expectation. Though I wasn’t dressed in anything that would result in jaw’s dropping, it was important that I at least appeared somewhat admirable - the entire nation always had their eyes on us, but tonight they were going to see us all, live. Perhaps the reason why bands like Oasis and Blur are so obsessed over nowadays, since all they’ll do is turn up in some flimsy Adidas t-shirt and call that fashion. I suppose scruffy was the new elegant.

“Who do you think they’ll give the award to?” she questioned, still aimlessly flicking through the recycled pages of the magazine. “I think Oasis. Their music is so much better than Blurs.”

“Really? I’d say Blur. They won on top of the pops, so the likelihood of them winning the Brit award is highly likely,” I answered, shuffling away from the strong reflection of myself towards Emily, my eyes quickly scanning the page that she had her eye on currently. “Gosh Liam’s so full of himself.”

“He’s got his eye on you, you know,” She said, shoving the paragraph she had just read in my face of Liam boasting about his little crush he had supposedly gained from watching our latest performance on top of the pops. “Thinks you’re ‘well fit’.”

Scoffing in response, I mumbled back to Emily. “If he thinks that he’s sleeping with me, he’s very deluded.”

By the time we had arrived at the venue, you weren’t able to walk into the entrance without at least 50 cameras blinding your eyes and the shouts of so many begging for you to quickly turn your head and grin - the price for the photo would reach the many thousands. Once walking in, it was less crowded, only having select people by the ground floor, dedicated for musicians and bands, with the occasional interviewer walking past to every circled table, adorned with white cloth and champagne glasses, asking questions about how they’re feeling, who they think may win, and what they thought of the music throughout the past year. What was nice was that people didn’t have that much interaction with one another, just with their groups. It created a sense of formality in the space, which made me feel a bit at ease from the idea of some random row happening in the middle of the floor, most likely between Liam and Damon. The past year in music was truly something. Britpop was at its peak the entirety of the year, with songs like Parklife and Supersonic pouring out of every radio station in Britain that by the end of the year, you had ditched casual radio music and began blasting the classical station. It was a nightmare. Since the fall of grunge subsequent to Cobain’s death the previous year, the talk of any other genre in Britain apart from Britpop didn’t occur. It was as if we were living on this mystical island, miles away from any other music and culture, whilst adorning and obsessing over our own. What was nice about Britpop was that it was a pure celebration of English culture, whether it be a simple Sunday roast, or going to school, they all carried the same ambience of nostalgia and pride - also disregarding whichever band wrote what song.

“Free champagne… Yes please,” said Madeline, the secondary guitarist of the band, whilst heading to the first seat she could sit on, then quickly indulging herself with the first taste of the rich drink. “Oh my gosh it’s heavenly!”

Laughing at her reaction, the rest of the band took a seat around the table and took their first sips of the champagne, which we would all come to find to be indeed heavenly. Small talk was shared here and there with the rest of the group, but overall I stayed silent. In all honesty I found attending award shows was quite boring because if you didn’t end up getting an award, you would essentially be sitting there for two hours doing nothing. Even if you did win an award, it’s simply a minute of glory with the speakers blasting your music, and another minute of all eyes piercing into your soul as you make sentences about your gratitude towards those who had helped you along the way to earn such an achievement. I doubt anybody genuinely liked attending shows like these.

“The champagne is good, yet we don’t get enough for our table,” I complained, grasping my now empty champagne glass and waving it around in the air. “I’m gonna head to the bar to get a refill, anybody want anything?”

After receiving a handful of nos from the rest of the band, I took myself out of my seat and wandered over to the bar, which was empty, perhaps due to the venue not yet being completely filled with all the artists that were set to attend the night. “Just a refill of the champagne, please.” I asked politely, handing the bartender the used glass I had kept in my hand. Whilst waiting, I noticed that Damon was on the other side of the bar, who also didn’t notice me there, until he caught eyes with me.

A grin broke out on his face as I walked over to him. “You alright?” He asked me, quickly thanking the bartender for his drink and turning back to look at me. The height difference between us was evident, but it wasn’t the case of something so dramatic that he was the height of the empire state building and me, just a measly common tower in the city. He looked quite content, his hair scruffy yet neat, along with his outfit being just as I had assumed: a white shirt with jeans, a used pair of Adidas for shoes.

I smiled back at him and nodded. “Suppose you have high hopes for the award tonight.” I said, simultaneously receiving my refill of the beverage I had ordered, followed by my thanks. We stood adjacent, although there was enough distance between us to establish our relationship - mutual acquaintances whom had met every now and again, since they’ve both been dragged into this wormhole of madness. He was quite the opposite in comparison to his rivals, though he himself could be quite bothersome occasionally, he still had a grasp to what those may call sensibility.

“Oh well we’re better than them, aren’t we love?'' He chirped, his head now cocked to the side in a teasing manner. “I’ve heard that you’re rooting for us this year.” He added, a little smirk pasted on his face.

“Do you read every paper you see?” I questioned, my face turning away from him in slight embarrassment. Between us, there was no shared intention for a relationship to stem, though there was definitely a flirtatious tension that followed between us wherever we had met. Whether it be a random photoshoot for a magazine double-spread, or backstage at top of the pops, we always managed to share a chat with one another, and nothing else followed on from then. It was quite sad, because once you’ve established a connection between something you either both disagree or agree with in terms of societal views, something in the press, or life in general, you’re instantaneously cut off and asked to hop onto stage to record a meaningless three-minute performance with fake, plastic instruments which practically mean nothing.

“Well it was nice seeing someone else's face on the papers for once.” He replied, downing his drink, then ushering at the bartender for another. A thing that we both realised was that, between our conversations, we indirectly indicated that we were both there for each other, because we both had a complete understanding towards what may be happening to the other person. It was stressful being in the limelight constantly, and for someone who was the frontman of a band so large, with his face plastered on every magazine cover imaginable, things were bound to be stressful.

Sighing, I turned to face him again. Despite the fact that before I had the ability to respond, our conversation was cut short from a voice shouting my name from behind. “Well if it isn’t bloody Y/N.” the voice said, and from then I instantly knew it was Liam’s. Turning my face away from Damon’s, I locked eyes with Liam. As always, he was dressed in the usual: a parka, with casual jeans. Oh, and don’t forget the Adidas shoes. Even though he and Damon practically hated each other’s guts, they always seemed to have similar fashion senses, but I could never picture Damon in a parka. And I don’t think I even want to.

“How’ve you been love?” He asked, swinging his arm around my shoulder in a warm, but nonchalant manner. Me and Liam had a similar relationship to that of mine and Damons, simply just minusing the sentimentality of it. We were friends, and had come across each other at random parties, which opened the gateway for us to drink and get high together many a time. While he was quite the idiot, he was also a very fun guy to be around, but I knew Damon would never understand that. “And why’re you letting this twat chat to you?”

A laugh escaped Damon’s throat. “I think you’re the only twat here, Liam,” he began, a sigh leaving my mouth as I was trapped in a situation that I could only pray didn’t gain much traction from the rest of the attendees. “Me and Y/N are friends, don’t suppose we’re getting jealous are we?”

Liam’s grip on my shoulder tightened as I stared at his reaction to Damon. I felt quite small in this situation, due to me needing to tilt my head a good amount to properly look at Liam, and knowing if I left it would just erupt chaos and make it worse. “No need for me to be jealous when I know that she wouldn’t want to spend a minute with you in bed you bastard.”

“And you’re so sure about that are you?” Damon replied, amusement laced in his words. “Because you’ve totally spent a minute with her haven’t you?”

“Well I’ve got my arm around her haven’t I? And she’s not stopping me,” Liam argued back, a smirk entwined on his lips. Reaching for my hand, Liam grasped it lightly, then then brought it to his lips, kissing it, before holding it gently. Method of intimidation, perhaps, and though it was sweet, there was a time and place. And this was definitely neither the time, or place. “Who’s the jealous one now, eh?”

“The last I recall, she had hoped that we were winning this year, not you,” He boasted, moving the contents of his drink around whilst grasping it firmly. Whilst it would be something that would offend Liam, he was simply the type of person to not take criticism regardless of whomever it was coming from. I respected him for that. “So much so for a healthy relationship.” Damon mocked, staring into my eyes as a small laugh escaped my lips.

Granted that I had found the argument shared between the pair of them to be extremely silly, it was good entertainment as the time passed before the award show would begin. Watching them both, attempting to throw insults at one another, each one trying to cut a little deeper than the one previous, made me almost laugh at the both of them right there. “You know, it’s so silly that you both think you know me so well to think which one I’d pick from the both of you,” I said, detaching myself from Liam’s embrace and snatching my half-empty glass of champagne. “At this point, it’s neither of you.”

Walking back to my band’s designated table, I quietly took my seat as the show began. “Saw you chatting to Damon,” Emily whispered, raising her eyebrows. “Also saw you grinning like a madwoman.”

“Oh shut up you,” I replied, looking back at the bar to notice that both parties had left, assuming back to their places. “There’s nothing going on between me and Damon- Liam too in fact.”

~~~

As the ceremony went on, the boredom got to us. Even the amount of drinks I had didn’t entertain me, but what could we do, we were stuck in the middle of an award show celebrating music, even though I had largely doubted that the majority of those attending were enjoying themselves. I had no clue who the awards were going to be handed out to, and whether that somebody may be us in a category, but we all knew Blur were going to win something. Yes, Oasis had gained a lot of fame and had become one of the most famous bands in the music scene at the minute, but by the way things had gone for Blur after the release of Parklife, things only seemed to go further up from there. And that was only proven to be truthful, after Blur had left with four different awards.

After Blur had received their fourth award for best British group, we all knew that there was nothing left for Oasis. “They’ll get it all next year, they only debuted this year you know.” I said to the table, who were staring at the four smiley boys on stage as they trotted up to receive their award. I admired Damon as he said his speech, then also turning to look over at Liam, who looked quite evidently pissed off. He was practically drooling in anger from the sight brought to him at that particular moment, and I couldn’t blame him - their band hadn't gone home with one award that night, but neither had ours. “They’ve taken four awards home, isn’t that like, the most anybody has ever taken?”

“Indeed it is,” Madeline replied, taking a sip from her drink. “Must be a good year for them then, eh?”

As I watched the band leave the stage in absolute glee, I stared at Damon as he walked back to his designated seat for the short remainder of the evening. Despite the fact that my band had been sat in our seats the entire evening in complete boredom, just like Oasis and so many other acts that had been nominated for pointless awards, it would be a lie to say that I wasn’t proud of how far Blur as a whole had come and evolved through their music, and especially Damon. From beginning as young, bowl-cut boys only charting so far on top of the pops, to creating songs and melodies that could unite our entire nation, it was impressive.

Damon was the face of Britain at this very moment, and a very good looking one. Once I watched him sit down, he scanned the room for a while until he was able to find where I was sitting, which was parallel to his seat, merely a couple metres away. He connected eyes with me as soon as he found me, also accompanied with a small smirk painted on his expression as he raised his eyebrows and sent me a wink. I simply smiled back at him in response before turning away abruptly, disrupting the little moment we seemingly shared, and though I felt my heart flutter a little, he’s definitely not winning me that easily.

#britpop #fanfic #bandimagines #Liam Gallagher x reader #damon albarn x reader #damon albarn #blur #Liam Gallagher #oasis #blur band #oasis band #my writing #fluff #angst

156 notes · View notes

heloisedaphnebrightmore · 3 years

Text

Got no shame [Oliver Wood x Reader] - Challenge

Title: Got no shame Pairing: Oliver Wood x Female!Reader Word count: 2.5k Published: 27 May, 2021 Author: Heloise Daphne Brightmore Summary: [x] Being the daughter of the coach of Puddlemere United gives you the opportunity to get close to the players, some even more than others. When Oliver gets injured, you don’t even care about being friends or less or more, you just need to know if he is okay. Challenge: [x] [x] This is part of @iliveiloveiwrite 's writing challenge

Song inspiration: No shame by 5 Seconds of Summer

Bingo: [x] [x] This is part of my Band--Psychos 1.5k Followers Bingo Card by @band--psycho and my Make me feel Bingo Card by @girl-next-door-writes

Square filled: Rain [ @band--psycho ]

Square filled: Temporary amnesia [ @girl-next-door-writes ]

Harry Potter Characters Masterlist | Masterlists

Band--Psychos 1.5k Followers Bingo Masterlist

Make me feel Bingo Masterlist

If you enjoy my stories, please consider donating and supporting me on Ko-fi. Of course, it’s completely your choice, I will continue updating for free anyway :) Thank you <3

You have always been a big fan of quidditch, but unfortunately your abilities were never enough to become a professional. Luckily however, your father was the coach of the Puddlemere quidditch team. It was a daily occurrence for you to appear on their practice, overtime even becoming friends with some of the team members.

Benjy, the seeker of the team and Jocelind, one of the chasers quickly grew fond of you. Although your friendship started off on a rocky road. The two of them had a mission to tease you about their keeper, Oliver Wood’s crush on you. They thought his tries to catch your attention would be obvious to everyone, but it seemed you were the only one who couldn’t see it. Benjy and Jo made it their duty to remind you every single day how badly Oliver had fallen for you. Just like on that particular day, before one of their most important matches.

“Can you just stop?” You exhaled, pleading with the pair, the same subject repeating itself daily. Falling back onto one of the benches of the changing room, you heaved a heavy sigh, tired of their constant nagging.

“Sure, will you accept that Wood has a crush on you?” Benjy asked, teasingly wiggling his brows as he took a seat beside you, nudging your shoulder playfully.

“No! I will not! When he joined the team, he was this shy little boy, trying to adjust. He always talked to me, he always came to me for advice. If back then you said he had a crush on me, I might have believed you. But since then, he has become popular, girls and boys falling on their knees in front of him. I just can’t see it and I doubt out of all his choices I would be a contender,” you explained, sighing deeply.

“For Merlin’s sake,” Jo exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air, “each time he gives an autograph he is looking for your eyes, hoping for you to notice him. When the papers are taking photos of us, he looks like a meerkat trying to get your attention. How dumb can you be, woman?” She groaned as she folded her arms in front of her chest, shaking her head disapprovingly.

“You have had a crush on him for years, do something already,” Benjy added quickly before you could have replied. “Wood is my friend and I know him, he is mad for you.”

“Guys, please,” you pleaded, wanting to close the subject finally. “I would like nothing more than to believe you, but there’s no way Wood—,” before you could have continued, the entrance door of the changing room opened, a tall figure entering, his head covered under a hoodie, his clothes soaked, raindrops dripping to the floor.

“Oh, hi,” he lifted his head, revealing his identity. Pushing back his hoodie, you caught his dark eyes as he ran his hand across his short-cut, brown hair, his mere presence causing your cheeks to warm up. “You are early,” he added as none of you replied.

“Yeah, wanted to beat some sense into this woman,” Jo replied with a groan, clearly still annoyed by your blindness for Oliver’s feelings.

“Maybe I should beat some into you,” huffing, you crossed your arms in front of your chest, turning away from your friend’s gaze.

“Okay, why don’t we just take a deep breath and calm down?” Benjy interrupted.

“You clearly have something to discuss, should I leave?” Oliver asked as he looked around the three of you with a confused expression painted across his handsome face.

“Yes,” Jo replied, but you couldn’t handle another lecture.

“No,” you added, wanting to just stop them from nagging you any further.

“Well, that was helpful,” Oliver scoffed, trying to stop the little smirk from appearing in the corner of his lips. “So, which is it then?”

“No, because if you stay, it means they will quiet down finally and I need them to stop nagging me,” you replied as you stood up from the bench and headed towards the door. “Instead of getting on my nerves, you should start getting ready for the match,” you huffed in annoyance.

“As far as I’m concerned your father is our coach, not you,” Jo replied with gritted teeth.

“Indeed. But guess what, he would say the same,” you offered her a smug grin as you stepped out of the changing room, loudly shutting the door behind yourself.

As you headed to your father’s office, you heard loud footsteps following you. Turning around, you saw Oliver run after you, his clothes still drenched in water, but it didn’t stop him from coming after you. A soft smile appeared on your face as you patiently waited for him.

“Are you doing ground exercises?” You asked playfully as the boy finally halted beside you, trying to adjust his breathing.

“Very funny,” he scoffed, but you caught a tiny smile appearing in the corner of his lips. “I couldn’t stand the mood in the changing room. I have no idea what you have done, but Jo is quite pissed off,” he added, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck.

“Did they tell you what we argued about?” You asked, panic settling deep inside you as you realised Oliver might just know of your crush on him.

“Nah, they didn’t say anything, other than that you are being stubborn and blind for whatever reason,” he furrowed, the words without context making no sense to him.

“So, I’ve heard,” you grimaced as you started walking towards your father’s office once again.

“Wait, can I ask you what the argument was about?” He reached for your arm, wrapping his long fingers around your wrist. You turned back to look at him over your shoulder, his eyes holding curiosity.

“The person I like,” you replied, hoping for some sort of reaction from him.

“O— oh,” he breathed, somewhat disappointed as he let go of your wrist. The way he acted was certainly not what you expected and for a mere second you could see what Jo and Benjy were talking about. But a reasonable part of your brain quickly adjusted and decided to send you signals that reassured you it was probably just an involuntary reaction with no meaning behind it.

“Anyways, I will go and see my father. Maybe you should get ready,” you offered him a soft smile as you patted his shoulder and wished him good luck for the game.

As the match started, the rain was still pouring heavily, a batch of lightning struck on the ground, the players barely able to avoid them in time. You hid under your soaked hoodie as you cheered for the team, but deep down your stomach was in a knot, hoping for everyone to leave the game unscraped.

“Come on, Wood!” You shouted as the opponent flew towards his hoops, but luckily, he kicked the quaffle out of the way. His eyes looked for you for a good few seconds, before he caught sight of you and offered you a cheerful grin that you couldn’t stop from mirroring.

The match was rather aggressive, and the weather didn’t help the situation. Whilst you watched your friends fly around the pitch, their blue and yellow cloak following them in their route, a nervous feeling settled in you as a heavy rumble shook the area.

You stood up from the spectator stand and started heading down the stairs, wanting to feel closer to your friends. However, as you looked up, the next thing you saw was a blinding lighting that struck straight into the ground, sending none other than Oliver Wood off his position straight into the wall of the spectator stand across the pitch. A loud scream left your lungs, your heart beating in a dangerous pace as you watched his unconscious body fall towards the ground before someone slowed him down mid-air. Looking down at the benches, you saw your father with his wand in his hand pointing towards Oliver’s limp body, slowly placing him down on the fake grass.

As you started running down the stairs, you never felt more determined. You needed to see him, feel his pulse, check his body for injuries. It was driving you crazy how slowly your body moved before you finally caught sight of him surrounded by a couple of healers as they placed him on a stretcher. Almost feeling him in your grasp, you started running towards the injured boy, but before you could have caught up with the healers, two arms wrapped around you, pulling you back against a strong chest.

“He is going to be okay,” you heard your father’s voice, trying to sooth your worries away.

“Let me see him. Please, dad,” you replied, your voice weak and shaky. He turned you around and pulled you into a fatherly hug, just like the ones you received when you were little. As you finally started calming down, he leaned back and cupped your cheeks, removing the tear stains from your face that you didn’t even realise you had under the heavy rain.

“The healers will help him, but they will not let you in just yet, so take a deep breath, sit down with me on the bench and as soon as they signal for me, I will let you go. Sounds like a good plan?” He asked, hoping you would be able to think reasonably. After a heavy sigh you nodded, knowing that you couldn’t possibly do anything for him. You headed back towards the benches with your father and as they blew the whistle again, you listened to the game, but your mind was somewhere else, to be exact on the boy that the healers rushed away from you before you could even check on him.

It felt like eternity before your father placed a hand on your shoulder and nodded towards the exit of the pitch. Without a word or a thankful look, you started running after the healer that stood at the gate. When you arrived you greeted him and followed him diligently to the medical wing. The path felt like you’ve been walking for hours, even though it was only a couple of minutes. You were impatient, you wanted to see Oliver for yourself, making sure he was okay.

As you reached the medical wing and the large wooden doors opened, your eyes frantically searching for Oliver. As you caught his figure at the back of the room, you rushed up to him and sat down on the small stool beside his bed and took his hand in yours, squeezing it reassuringly. Although it was you who needed to be reassured that he was alright. His eyes started slowly flattering before he finally opened them, looking around the room in confusion, groaning as he turned his head.

“Stay put, Wood,” you instructed him as you pulled your stool closer. “How are you feeling? Are you in a lot of pain?” You bombarded him with questions.

“I’m fine. My head and my back hurts, but I’m okay,” a small smile spread across his face as he squeezed your hand.

“You scared me,” you scolded him as you slapped the back of his hand gently, making him chuckle lightly.

“I didn’t mean to,” he replied with an innocent expression, but a hidden smile in the corner of his lips. “What happened exactly? I’m kind of blurry on the details.”

“A lightning struck beside you and it sent you straight into one of the spectator walls. When you started falling dad slowed you down to stop you from getting any further injuries,” you explained with a deep frown across your brows and concern lacing your eyes. “It was horrible,” you added with a shaky breath as you played with his hand in yours.

“Hey,” he called out to you in a soft tone, lifting his other hand to cup your cheek. “I’m perfectly fine, just a few little bruises,” he tried to reassure you, but your worry was still clear across your face. “Hey, did I ever tell you that I love the way you're screaming my name?” He chuckled softly as you felt your face burn under his intense gaze. He knew he needed to avert your attention, wanting to sooth your worries.

“What?” You asked, stunned.

“The last thing I remember is your loud cheer as you screamed my name,” he smirked proudly, enjoying as you played with his hand in your embarrassed state.

“I cheer for everyone,” you added in a silent tone, trying to avert his suspicions.

“I wish you would cheer only for me,” he sighed as he looked away from you, his gaze now fixed on the ceiling. A confused expression sat across your face as you lifted your gaze and looked at him.

“What do you mean?” You asked, completely baffled by his reply. For a single moment you believed he meant more than he let on, but a reasonable part of your brain quickly shooed those thoughts away.

“I meant what I said,” he replied nonchalantly.

“I can’t just cheer for you. I have to cheer for the whole team so we can all win,” you explained with a confused frown across your brows.

“I know. And I know it’s wrong of me, but it makes me jealous,” he spoke with a soft grimace, earning a surprised gasp from you. “I honestly don’t know what else to do to get your attention. At this point I just got no shame. I shamelessly try to catch your eyes, but every time I feel like you are looking at me, you go and distance yourself,” he scoffed. Heaving a heavy sigh, he turned back to you. “Do you think you could ever look at me like a man and not someone who is part of your father’s quidditch team or a simple friend? Do you think you would be able to like me at one point?” He asked, his eyes desperately searching for confirmation, starting your heart off in a quick pace.

A tiny smile started spreading across your face before it grew into a large grin and a loud laughter erupted from your lungs, throwing your head back in the process. Oliver sat beside you, having mixed feelings about your reaction. “You fool,” you chuckled as your laughter started dying down. “You dumb man” you continued shaking your head as you stood up from your stool and leaned above his bed, cupping his face. “How could I not look at you as a man when I already do?” You giggled happily as you closed the gap between the two of you, capturing his lips with yours. For a moment both of you forgot where you were, you just enjoyed being closer to each other, before a healer appeared and loudly scolded you for your behaviour, forcing you to part as though you were still children.

“Well, that’s certainly not what I expected,” he chuckled playfully. “A couple more of these and I will feel brand new,” he grinned.

“I guess you will have to wait for that otherwise the healers will kick me out,” you giggled in content.

“Not happening,” he shook his head as he grabbed your arm and pulled you back to him, attaching his lips to yours halfway, earning a shaky moan from you. Luckily this time the healers didn’t catch you and within a couple of hours you were helping Oliver getting back to his flat.

Notes: If you enjoyed reading this little piece, please don’t forget to leave a like, comment and/or reblog. Your opinion matters and gives us motivation. Thank you ^^

If you enjoy my stories, please consider donating and supporting me on Ko-fi. Of course, it’s completely your choice, I will continue updating for free anyway :) Thank you <3

Taglists are in reblog from now on

#girl next door’s make me feel bingo #band—psychos bingo challenge #Oliver wood #iliveiloveiwrite3.5k #Oliver wood x reader #oliver wood x reader imagine #oliver wood x reader one shot #oliver wood x reader fanfiction #oliver wood one shot #oliver wood fanfiction #oliver wood imagine #sean biggerstaff #harry potter #quidditch

265 notes · View notes

the-goddess-of-mischief-writing · 3 years

Text

New York High Rise {3}

Series summary; What does Steve think of what just happened? Well, not only will his next client get to know but also a dear friend of the mob boss.

Pairing: mob!Steve x mob!reader

Rating: Mature

CHAPTER NO/ONESHOT: Chapter 3/5

Word; 6.2k

Warnings; canon type violence, death, anything you could expect from a mafia!au

Author; @the-goddess-of-mischief-writing

A/N: I just want to warn anyone, this chapter revolve around Steve and contains graphic scenes so if anyone feel like they may get triggered, I have now warned you. If you choose to read anyways it is YOUR choice.

SERIES MASTERLIST

Steve was fuming. He could practically feel the steam rising from the top of his head. This time, compared to earlier, it wasn't because of the feverish warmth inside the club. Nor the sunny season's air outside. It was because of the folder resting on the table.

The Canine boss could still hear the echoing slap the orderly stacked papers had done when landing on the table. Even your words reverberated in his head like an annoying tune he couldn't help but mutely sing in his mind.

This was not how he'd thought this meeting would go.

Steve had planned to get his will through, to expand his empire from Brooklyn to the most successful part of New York, Manhattan, your territory. But no. You'd decided to be as stubborn as a mule and as stuck up as the bureaucrats that he needed to handle in exclusive deals.

Now he understood why so many said your empire wasn't the usual kind, rather something new. You'd built your syndicate from the best, or worst in regard of how the Canine for the moment saw you, of two worlds.

"Bitch", you were long gone, so the growled curse aimed at you went unheard. However, the walls around Steve caught the profanity he uttered whilst snagging the folder from the table and pursued to head out of the room.

Only the guards stationed outside the corridor leading to the conference room was still in the club. Yet, the Canine boss paid them no mind as he stalked out of the private area, making them scramble to follow him. The rest of his party, even those previously undercover, must have either retreated for the night or waited outside. Concerning how Steve himself hadn't left yet, he suspected at least his most trusted team was waiting by the car.

Passing through the lobby, the mob boss frightened some of the staff lingering about. Not only thanks to the authority he always carried himself with but also his visible darkened features. However, Steve's attention didn't stray to the people following him with wary eyes. Instead, he looked straight forward, focusing on his guards where they lounged around the black Chrysler he'd arrived with a few hours earlier.

Seemingly, they had enough of an engaging conversation that they shared some laughs. But that changed the moment Steve stepped through the door a bouncer held open for him.

Usually, the Canine boss' hard exterior dissolved somewhat among his men, seeing how they'd become good comrades. Although now, when the dark-blonde man came out of the club looking like he could kill someone, their easy smiles and carefree stance immediately smartened up. Backs straightened and jaws clenched upon seeing the fury Steve not only emitted with a scowl but his whole body.

"How did it go?" One of the guards questioned, more out of courtesy than curiosity, concerning it was clear how it went. As suspected, he got nothing more than a glare from Steve, seeing how his anger hadn't flickered out the slightest, only heightened when feeling how his fingers clutched the folder in his hand even tighter. Your folder with your contract.

"Where's Barnes?" Some flinched by his bark of a question.

"He's still inside...", the rest of the answer fell on deaf ears as the blonde rounded the car, not caring too much where his head bodyguard was for the moment, only that he would hurry up to finish whatever he dealt with.

"As soon as he's back, we go", the driver, who had noticed the Canine boss and stepped out of the vehicle to hold open the door for him, didn't even get the chance to do what he intended. Steve all but tore open the backseat door and climbed into the car. Leaving the chauffeur to stand there and look at his boss in perplexity, as the Canine didn't more than touch the black leather seat before he slammed the door shut again.

That Steven had a temper everyone in his vicinity knew. But how he now acted reached not only a new level but contrasted heavily to how you'd appeared.

You'd left about ten minutes ago, looking indifferent to how everyone in Steven's patrol had seen you when first entering the designated conference room. That guard of yours had led you to the car parked mere ten feet from their own boss'. There, your chauffeur had greeted you with a smile and a few quiet words none besides you were meant to hear. Neither was your response, that likewise was accompanied with a smile, able to be distinguished.

As you stepped into your transport, none of the men trying to read your expressions noted anything more than a similar politeness Steve could show them once in their company. However, when comparing it to the state of their own boss once he exited, it was clear that the meeting didn't favour the Canine boss, but rather the Feline. And though none who had accompanied Steven knew what the two of you'd discussed concerning the meeting had been a closed-door discussion, they knew their boss hadn't brought anything with him earlier. So when spotting the portfolio that the mob boss had held in his hand, it only sealed the deal further.

That was why none of the guards nor the chauffeur intruded on the solitude Steve had sought inside the car, merely waiting for the right-hand man of the Canine boss to return so they could head to their next stop.

And it was good none did either, seeing how Steve mulled over everything that had happened with curses leaving him every five seconds. Additionally, anyone who would've opened the opposite backseat door would have got your folder smack in the forehead, seeing how the blonde man had thrown it as harshly and as far away from himself that he could, once in his own confinement.

He didn't need to hold the damned contract you'd offered him, even less open and study it, to know he would read it in your annoying voice. And that aggravated Steve even more.

It annoyed him that your voice echoed as a constant reminder in his mind. It annoyed him that you'd prepared a contract, which so obviously cried you hadn't even come here to listen to him in the first place. It annoyed him to such a fucking degree that you'd played him by a mere act of forced courtesy rather than a gentlemen move, to use your own words, that it felt like he could just tear the contract to shreds.

Still, he didn't.

The blonde man seethed, turning his head to look at the folder. 'If you don't sign it and have it delivered to me, I know you've declined my offer and this war will be ended in another way.' He knew you were serious about that, so perhaps that was why he hadn't left it behind in the conference room. Nonetheless, it had taken a great effort for Steve to push away every ounce of pride in his body to grab ahold of it. And when he finally held the stiff cartoon folder, it had almost felt like it burned him like some crucifix. No, it burned like a sign of defeat.

Joseph Rogers would never have done it, never admitted when he was defeated.

At the thought of his father, Steve's hand fisted where it rested on the armrest dividing the two seats in the back of the car. What would he say? He probably wouldn't have said anything, just walked out as you had done to him. A vibration deep in his chest made a low sound leave him at the realisation you actually played the game his father always had and Steve himself only thought he had.

Fittingly, or unfittingly in his own mind, the door connected to the other seat opened with a click to interrupt the abusive thoughts of his father.

Although pulled out of his mind, Steve didn't glance to see whoever plucked the folder occupying the seat beside him before they climbed in themselves. There was only one person that first and foremost would dare to be in his presence right now. On top of that, also knew he was the only one who didn't need to repeatedly ask for permission to join him.

Not even when he saw the person shift in his peripheral, from simply holding the folder to actually waving it slightly to catch his attention, clearly wanting to ask him a question, did Steve look towards them. Although, he did speak up.

"Not a word, Barnes", the Canine boss raised his fist, so it was levelled with his cheek as he said this. By now, his nails had dug into his palm and there was no question small crescent moons would be dented in his skin.

"Maybe I should've stayed, after all", the sentence was followed by a chuckle, the sound making Steve snap to watch the man sitting beside him.

"Didn't I say you should keep your mouth shut?" The blonde stared at the brunette. Who, unlike earlier, now had pulled his hair into a low bun in the nape of his neck. However, no matter the fury the Canine's cold blue eyes conveyed, Bucky Barnes saw no real threat.

"You often do, but you have so far not put a bullet in me", Bucky shrugged with an easy smile.

The mob boss remained silent as his head bodyguard leaned forwards far enough to knock on the wall beside the still open windshield that could separate the driver from those in the back seat.

"Close it up", Steve honestly thought the brunette would've given the chauffeur, who now had taken his place behind the wheel, directions of where to go. Gauging by his act, he must have done it before getting into the car. Hence, the driver did nothing but nod to signify he heard what the guard said before closing the visor, leaving whatever Steve knew Bucky wanted to talk to him about for only him to hear.

He felt the car rock to a gentle start, the road underneath the vehicle sending small vibrations throughout Steve. Tilting his head, he saw the scenery blur as he didn't concentrate on anything specific they drow by.

Despite the initial silence of the car ride, the blonde saw how the man beside him shifted, angling his body just slightly more his way. The minimal change of where Bucky attention laid told the mob boss he would initiate a conversation. And as on a cue, Bucky spoke. "So what happened? 'Cause clearly you scared half of your squad enough for them to want to take a week off".

He didn't redirect his gaze, fearing that his now fisted hand would connect with his friend's jaw if he didn't control himself. What happened? The question taunted in his mind, enough so that Steve clenched his jaw. Everything that shouldn't have happened.

"You have the folder", he gritted out, continuing to aimlessly stare out of the window, now concentrating on how the scenery changed from the narrow streets the nightclub had been located in to instead manifest the glittering sunset reflecting off the water in East River.

Beside him, he felt how Bucky shifted and shortly afterwards came the sounds of papers starting to be turned over. The head guard sat silent as he read the contract that not even the Canine had looked through.

The lack of verbal confirmation of Steve's evident loss in this meeting spurred the blonde, whether he wanted or not, to glance at the brunette.

Bucky's brows were furrowed. Consequently causing the grooves on his forehead, which always appeared when he pondered something, to become extremely visible. His features remained this way as his eyes scanned over the rows stitching together the contract. Then, for some reason, they changed.

From an expression showing the brunette tried to fathom the situation that had made Steve considerably harsher to anyone in his close vicinity, his face now fell and a smirk began to toy with his lips. On top of this, he let out a low whistle turning to the next page.

The smouldering anger in Steve's chest flared up to the same intensity it had burned with earlier. Back when he had sat in silence and glared at the folder inside the club. He ground his teeth together, feeling how they caught in each other's pointy edges.

"What?" He demanded to know what the man all of a sudden found so entertaining. Yet, the answer didn't come immediately. Instead, Bucky sat there with the same expression pinning his face while finishing the document in his grip.

Not until the brunette had closed the binder and waved it similarly to how he'd done when entering the car did his gaze meet Steve's. His eyes, also blue but slightly greyer in colour, was crinkled in the corners. The amusement, or whatever caused the mob boss nostrils to flare in agitation, was only further displayed by the shake of his head.

"She's good".

"What?" Bucky almost hadn't finished his nearly wordless reply before Steve barked his requirement of an explanation.

"Whether you want to admit it aloud or not, I know you think about it in that analysing brain of yours", the brunette begun, pushing the folder underneath the mob boss' arm on the armrest. Steve, who followed the act with disdain, shuffled in his seat directly afterwards so he wouldn't be touching the contract which you formerly had been carrying around.

Watching the blonde's action, Bucky only continued, now even less worried his words might be wrong and evoke further anger from the Canine. Of course, he might still get mad, though Bucky knew he at least was right. "She is good, Steve. If not shown by this contract, which I suggest you read, then at least how she's gotten to you".

The blonde man elected to ignore the last part of his bodyguard's sentence. Hence, only questioning the first part. "Why should I read it?"

Arrogance was a trait many shared once someone stepped on their pride, but never had Bucky witnessed such amounts of it exhibited by the Canine boss. His nose twitched in the corner as if the mere thought of opening the papers offended him. The mistrust in his voice showed he didn't believe what just was advised to him, nor that the words of you being competent could be true. All signs of denial, a damaged pride.

"Sometimes I wondered how you even could've come this far to rebuild your father's empire when you're so stubborn to see the truth at times", the comment made Steve cock his head.

"Is that a threat or a call for resignation, I hear?" Bucky simply rolled his eyes and turned to fully face the man, now giving him his undivided attention.

"I may have been here from the day you called me and asked me to join your plans, but believe me, working outside this world for some time, especially in the field I was in, you learn to see who is good at their job and not".

Although Bucky had known Steve ever since they were kids, essentially because their fathers had been partners when the Canine empire was worth more than its own power in gold, the two had fallen out of the regular touch they'd kept after Joseph had passed. Steve had remained close to his mother. While Bucky returned to have both his feet in the ordinary world.

His name had never been brought into the discussion of conviction or any kind of youth crimes, essentially thanks to his father never being proven guilty of the few charges raised against him. Another favour his old man thanked the former Canine boss for. For Bucky, it made things easy to find live his life as if he didn't know what went on underneath the city he walked in.

He went to school, took a degree in law. Which his father before passing as well, considered humorous. Though, Bucky didn't start working directly even if offered jobs. He'd been young and not really knowing which direction he would go. He had no mothers footsteps to follow, seeing how she'd passed before he even had a memory of her. His father shoes still felt too big to fill, so he decided to follow a path he felt natural.

Bucky joined the army. Not more than a few years and two trips. Nevertheless, it was easy pocket change concerning two factors. His father had urged him to take the same martial art classes as Steve's father had done to him. He'd also lived with one foot in the syndicate and the other outside during his whole childhood. The concept of order, planning and warfare wasn't anything alarmingly new to him.

Then he'd begun to explore more, starting to step into the low tier position as an intern at different firms. It was easy to get in, concerning his degree and quickly, he gained enough working experience to get a promotion. His former boss at the advocate company may have thought Bucky was a natural talent or a genius from school. But, it was all thanks to his upbringing he possed the requirements a higher position demanded.

It's mainly thanks to his years working within the judiciary before reconnecting with Steve and began working as his head guard Bucky knows you fall into the group of people who are good at what you do.

The blonde had sat silent this whole time, never breaking away from Bucky's stare. It made the brunette believe that his friend would settle whatever resent he had towards you personally and at least read through the arrangement you assembled for the greater of his empire. Apparently, he was wrong.

"But now you're not working with that anymore", Bucky actually let out a low scoff of annoyance.

"I'm working as a head personal guard for someone I'm swaying on keeping alive at the moment, I know. And I do this because we both know I'm better at the combat part than you, ever since we were kids", despite the jab, it was the mention of how the man, despite being roughly the same size as Steve, always had been slightly better at fighting then himself that made the blonde bite his inner cheek. "I also know that I'm still damn good at what used to be my former profession. Which, you actually also should know concerning you never shoo me out of the room when discussing with your official advisors of the plans to come", when he finally ended the point he wanted to prove, he cocked a brow at Steve, who now had furrowed his brows.

Bucky saw the ire still lingering in the blondes' eyes, making them go cold rather than warm. Nevertheless, he said nothing. The Canine boss simply gave the folder, which hadn't moved from its settlement no matter how much the two men gently had rocked with the turns of the car, one last glare before he altogether turned away as much as his seat let him.

The head bodyguard was close to letting the comment of how similar the mob boss, who'd made a name for himself lately of being indifferent to everything standing in his way, was to a rebellious child. Yet, in the end, he didn't, knowing the car ride would become even more atrocious than it already was set to be.

As suspected, the whole drive from the club to the luxurious hotel, where the Canine boss' next stop was, went by in complete silence. And, when they finally pulled up outside the building, the car had almost not stopped before Steve opened the door without a word. The brunette couldn't but let out a huff and follow the man out of the vehicle.

As Bucky tracked a few steps behind the blonde mob boss, he nodded to a few of the other bodyguards to follow as well. Whatever he might have remarked about considering to keep Steve alive was very much said as a dig at the moment to remind the man he might be written as his subordinate, but he was true to nature working side by side with him. After all, Steven was his friend and Bucky didn't desire to get his blood on his hands.

When the little party of Canines neared the entrance, both men stationed on each side of the doors opened them without further ado. Either they thought Steve looked like someone fitting to live here, or they could've been paid to do so. The brunette figured it was the latter concerning the overall safety measures, not only this hotel but the district in general upheld. Although, he didn't question it way too much as he now concentrated on the slightly denser crowd of people in the lobby.

Not only did they blend in quite well, concerning the people living at this hotel was flanked by at least two bodyguards each. Bucky also noticed how some of the former rigidity in Steve's shoulder lessened as he weaved through the lobby.

Though anyone else may find it excellent that the physical aspect of the blondes former irritation trickled off, it unsettled Bucky even further. Thus, having grown up with Steve, he knew that the silent seething anger was worse than the outgoing one. This, in other words, didn't bode particularly well.

However, even though the brunette had a raising suspicion, along with fear, that this visit the mob boss had decided to do after his meeting with you wouldn't have a good outcome, he had no chance to voice his worry. Essentially because the elevator they'd taken to reach the floor they were heading to now stopped.

Bucky was first to exit the elevator. Checking that the coast was clear before looking back to the Canine boss. He tried making the blonde meet his gaze, now seriously doubting if Steve was fit to meet the partner he'd had an escalating problem with the past weeks. Yet, the blue-eyed man kept his attention straight forward and didn't even spare his childhood friend a glance.

A thousand things were running through Steve's mind as he headed down the corridor, spotting the door his business partner was on the other side of.

He knew Bucky tried gaining his attention with the repetitive looks he threw his way. His most entrusted bodyguard and friend could read him like an open book. Thus knowing the silent facade that he'd put up was just that, a facade. Still, he continued to ignore him as he'd done ever since their conversation was over half an hour ago.

As the party stopped before the door, Steve decided to give the inclining nod to one of his other guards to step forwards and knock on the door.

Following three rapid knocks, a call of 'no cleaning' followed by a similar set of knockings later, footsteps could be heard near the door from the other side. A few seconds after, the door swung open, revealing a man currently trying to fasten his cufflinks.

"I said I didn't...". Even though the brunette's eyes had been cast down as he'd began to speak, the second they flickered up to watch, what the man must have assumed would be a hotel maid but rather was the Canine mob boss, he trailed off in his sentence.

"Good day Mr Jefferson", if the man's body hadn't already gone rigid, his shoulders bounced up even closer to his ears after Steve's greeting.

In a hurried attempt to smarten up, he completed his attempt of fastening the jewellery pin.

"Mr Rogers", he breathed out almost shakily while pulling a hand through his hair, some of the strands sticking to his scalp while others simply fell forwards once more. "Why do I owe the pleasure?"

Without answering, Steve stepped forwards, forcing the man to open the door wider.

As he walked into the pad, the blonde gazed around it uninterestingly. It was lavish. Probably like most rooms were in the hotel.

"I'm here to talk with you". Steve answered his associates question the second he heard the door closed. Taking the liberty, he sat down in the couch group occupying a vaster portion of the entry room's space. "Sit", with a wave of his hand, the Canine motioned to the sitting place at the other side of the dark oak table.

Jefferson, who glanced warily at the guards that had stationed themselves around the room -one by the window, another two directly behind Steve and the last lingering by the door out to the corridor- had no other choice than to follow the mob boss' directions.

Sitting down at the edge of the seat, he swallowed around the lump in his throat.

"How's business going?" The mob boss asked as he leaned against the couches backrest. One arm was slung over the ridge, fingers tapping against the material, while his other hand rested on his thigh.

"Bussines is going well".

"Good, always nice to hear companies you invest in are going strong", Steve hummed, noticing the minimal shift Jefferson did as he said this. "How's my money going?"

"Ah... t-that question is a little more complicated...".

Even though the brunette continued to ramble about all the different reasons his payments were late, or not even that, non-existing, the Canine boss didn't listen. He knew he was being screwed over by the man opposite him. He'd gotten the information weeks ago that the CEO of the company he's worked with since the beginning of the year wanted to change sides.

At first, it had been more of a rumour and he hadn't been able to dig up where Jefferson's company was heading. Then it became clear they would switch partners to one of the other godfather's around New York. However, even if Steve thought he didn't like how they tried doing so in the shadows while still upholding their deal, the worst thing was when he got to know who they shifted their alliance to. You.

Seeing how much unfavourable publicity you'd given his empire in the last few months was aggravating. However, listening to the man talking his ear off as if Steve hadn't already figured why exactly fifteen percentages of the profit capital was rolling into your account instead of his was the last drop.

Without even noticing it himself, Steve's hand that had rested upon his thigh raised and were tucked into his suit.

The metal handle he gripped wasn't cold anymore, not after having rested so close to his heart for over an hour. Nor did it get cooled down as he hastily pulled it out of its holster and aimed it at the man opposite him.

"I don't like rats, Landon", the use of the man's first name rather than surname would've made him quiet if the gun aimed his way already hadn't silenced him. "Pray you don't get reborn as one in your next life as well".

On the firearm, a silencer was mounted. So the characteristic bang sounded much more like a pop. Therefore, the noise of the gun was even less intimidating than the ricochet. However, neither of the telltale signs of a shot made Steve flinch, not even as he watched the bullet penetrate the space in-between his former associate's eyes, did he react.

As the mob boss stood, Jefferson's upper body slumped forward, hitting the table with a heavy thud and ugly clap as his head was the first thing that connected with it. No tears were trickling down his cheeks. Only a red streak that steadily created a near-invisible puddle on the mahogany table.

"Steve!" The silence and peace Steve found in watching the body was cut short by Bucky's voice.

The Canine glanced to his side, regarding how his head bodyguard rounded the couch and stood before him with one single step.

"What the fuck was that?" The brunette exclaimed, hand motioning to the dead body.

If any other person than Bucky would've done the same thing in this instance, they either would've ended up joining peaceful Mr Jefferson, or they wouldn't work within the Canine empire anymore. However, concerning that it now was his childhood friend staring at him in disbelief, Steve made sure none of the options was carried through.

"Problem-solving", Steve answered, about to take a step forwards but were stopped with a hand planting itself on his chest. He looked down before looking up with a cocked eyebrow.

"That ain't how we solve shit!"

"Not we, but I", Steve said, gripping Bucky's wrist, ripping it away from him. "You see, now both our problems are solved. He doesn't need to fear his cover being blown and I don't need to lose more money". That was all Steve said before taking a step around the brunette, whose eyes had narrowed considerably.

As most of his colleagues trailed after their boss, Bucky stayed back just a second longer, looking at the lifeless body giving a new sheen to the table whilst staining the carpet underneath. He'd known Steve had taken your conference badly and he also knew it hadn't been a good idea to have this appointment so shortly afterwards, especially when it was connected to you, but in such a different way. Still, he hadn't believed it would take this much of a turn.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

"Damn that fucking thing!" Steve roared, not thinking when he swept his hands over his desk. Everything from pencils, an empty coffee cup and other things crashed to the floor. However, it wasn’t solely that which now was littering the ground. The papers of your contract had flown out of the folder as well.

Staring down at the mess of shattered glass and paper from his standing position. The Canine boss felt a sneer enter his features. Ever since returning home late last night, he'd been locked inside his study. Primary because it was the place no one dared to disturb him in, but also because he didn't feel like arguing with Bucky.

He knew that after the stunt, as he knew his friend and bodyguard would label his approach to the Jefferson problem, the brunette wanted to speak with him. Yet, with the residue anger of not only a restless night, one Steve had powered through thanks to copious amounts of coffee. But also the subject now taunting him on the floor, a conversation with his right-hand man would lead nowhere.

He and Bucky didn't often get into fights, but Steve was convinced this was one of the matters that could force such a confrontation. He'd still not gathered his bearings enough to admit that he needed to yield. Because that was what he would need to do.

The mob boss switched from watching the scattered pieces of the contract to instead stare straight into the oaken surface of his desk as he now leant on it, knuckles turning white from how strongly he held the countertop. By now, he'd read through the four-page agreement. Something that was a step in the right, or in Steve's regard wrong, direction.

He didn't want to admit it. But as Bucky had mentioned yesterday, it was a top-certified contract. He couldn't find any loopholes. No grey-zones. No area that he could play you on.

Steve knew that you would be hard to crack, but he hadn't anticipated this.

Despite knowing that you and the Felina empire had overtaken his father's grip on New York, he had underestimated you. A woman running the empire you did was so uncommon he thought you would have some weak spot regarding how you had no one else to look up to. Nor did you have any previous family connections to the underworld. Which honestly made your success even more astonishing.

Almost so much it was questionable if you had done it yourself.

Steve had assumed you hadn't. Someone else must be the brain behind the operation, simply using you as a puppet. However, it seemed he'd made a tremendous mistake by assuming just that. It wasn't anyone else running your empire. You were involved in every little part of the well-oiled machine.

Once more, the canine boss let out an irritated noise, sounding more like a growl than a harsh sigh in his own ears.

He pushed off from the countertop and, in one motion, had side-stepped his chair. Now, with the room behind him, Steve stared out of the windows lining the wall furthest from the entrance. His arms had crossed over his chest and remained there as he stared out at the bay not far away.

Ferries and other boats travelled the waters. Breaking the tension and creating small waves. If it wasn't for this, it almost would've looked like they travelled through the city. Regarding how not only New York's but also Brooklyn's dusk lightning reflected in the water.

When the Canine boss finally felt the sight before him lessened the tension in his shoulders, a knock came from the door.

If his features ever had lightened, the sound immediately beckoned a furrow to take its place. Even more so when the door opened without him having given the person on the other side permission.

He knew who it was, Bucky.

"What do you want?" Steve's voice was cold, harsh.

"I want to speak with you", instantly, the mob boss noticed how his friend's voice didn't carry that joyous tone when he spoke to him as just that, friends. Bur rather the more levelled one, the professional one.

"I won't speak about Jefferson".

"Neither is that why I'm here", glancing over his shoulder upon hearing the rustle of paper, the Canine boss saw his guard pick up the pieces of the contract from the floor. He arranged them before putting them back into the folder. Contrary to how Steve would've caused the map to give away a whack when flinging it onto his desk. Bucky's hand followed through the whole movement. His fingers even resting upon the grey folder as it laid placid on the middle of the counter.

"I'm here to talk about the real problem", Steve turned to face the brunette. He didn't say anything. Still, Bucky knew that having gotten this much attention was a sign he either was about to be shot or given a limited amount to talk.

"I know this is hard for you, Steve... actually scratch that, it is hard for everyone who's supported you. But I'll be damned if you let everything we've worked for go to waste because you don't have it in you to lose a battle in favour of winning a later war"

All of a sudden, Bucky's face twisted as an unexpected crash echoed. His fist had smashed onto the table. Enough for the countertop to rattle.

“I love to give you the most personal advice I've ever had”, he started, not even holding back his pent up frustration. “Sign that fucking contract, pal". The canine boss' blue eyes narrowed as he met the stormy grey ones of the man before him.

"Get out", Bucky clenched his jaw and straightened himself.

"I'll be waiting for the call to come and pick it up", was the last thing the brunette said before swiftly turning on his heel and heading to the door.

Steve followed his oldest friend with his eyes until the door echoes shut behind him. Even after Bucky's footsteps were long gone, did the Canine boss stare forward. He did it simply because he didn't want to let his eyes flicker down to the contract, now turned to the last page where the paper waited for his signature.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

A day later, Steve still stared at the folder resting un-signed on his desk. It was out of pure spite he hadn't signed it. To keep your victory at bay.

Two days later and he felt how the clock on his wall ticked louder than before. How the voices in his head escalated from whispering to shouting at him. 'Sign that fucking contract, pal.'

Three days later and Steve felt how time was running out.

Even if he didn't want to admit it aloud. To not sign would be foolish. Sure, he had the resources to continue this war. Hence, the short extra time the meeting and his delay in signing the contract had abled him to recoup. But still, his empire was lacking a significant piece his father's syndicate had, time. He needed more time to grow but wasn't given that. So yes, he could continue this battle, but he could not win it.

Therefore the mob boss gripped the pen and pressed the ink dipped tip to the dotted line.

His signature was darker than usual. More colour bleeding onto the paper. The curves of the letters were not as smooth as regular either. Instead, straighter, pointier. Forced.

Steve didn't look at his name shining back at him once he raised the pen and put it back in its stand. Instead, Steve stood and dialled a number on his phone. One tone was all it took before the person on the other end picked up.

"Get it out of my sight, Barnes", was all he said before instantly hanging up. The call had lasted four seconds. Even so, Steve deleted it from the history of his 'latest' list.

Shoving the phone into his pockets, the blonde man stood from his chair and headed to the office doors. He didn't look back once at the folder left behind on his desk. Not even when he closed the doors behind him.

Series taglist: @njrronaldo7 @fanfic-love-show @gabycamargo22 @fckdeusername

78 notes · View notes

kaeyasaki · 3 years

Text

— ❝ MISCOMMUNICATE! ❞

— LEORIO PARADINIGHT X GN!READER :; NSFW

❝ skirt off, fuck in the backseat, take that shirt off, baby, put it on me, got me like “yeehaw”, ride it like a horsey, kinda like see-saw up and down on the d ❞

warnings :; unprotected sex, dirty talk, sub!reader, slapping, fingering + degradation -> +4K words

an :; hello hi i don’t know why the fuck i’m actually writing for leorio because i don’t fw him at all, but we checked and the leorio nsfw tag is literally dry and i felt bad for leorio stans so consider this my one time gift for leorio because this will never happen again LOL — NOT PROOFREAD I’LL GAG IF I DO SO

Leorio is a man of tolerance and he’s rather neutral in the sense of liking and disliking things. Of course, he’s open about things that bother him, but he’d rather resolve issues than allow them to stew and worsen over time.

One thing he didn’t like and couldn’t solve however was you.

Leorio couldn't stand you. You were always outdoing him in every test or exam your class took and it was even worse when the professor had insisted upon seating the two of you together in order to ‘keep up’ with one another as the pair of you were far ahead of the rest of the class.

Attending med-school was already stressful enough on its own, but Leorio was certain that being seated next to you only caused that stress to multiply by ten each class he attended. Still, he refused to let you get the better of him after all, your finals were fast approaching and that’s exactly when he’d shut you up for good.

“Leorio!~” He cringed at the sickenly sarcastic tone of your voice from behind him as he walked through the classroom doors. “What?” His tone is sharp as he has no means to entertain you in the slightest, only replying out of common courtesy.

“Why so uptight? Can’t I just say hi to the second best in class?” You hummed, teasing grin tugging at your lips as he scoffs at your comment. “Second best?” He repeats, eyebrows raised and brows twitching. “Second best.” You nodded, a provocative glint in your eyes as you were left satisfied with irritating him before class.

One thing you had learnt about Leorio during the months you’d spent sharing your classes with him, was that once agitated, he had a hard time concentrating. He was easy. Too easy in fact. Every lesson you played the boy like an instrument, pulling all the right strings for all the right reactions out of him.

You weren’t certain as to what it was about him that drew you in to provoke him at every opportunity, but you were certain that every opportunity taken would leave you satisfied. Perhaps it was his desperation that kept you hooked onto him. His constant need to beat you and gloat anytime he could. It was cute almost. But despite his somewhat annoying nature in that sense, you’d be a liar if you were to say you found him unattractive.

You weren’t stupid. Whether he was aware of it or not, Leorio was more than pleasing to look at. His broad shoulders forcing the threats of his crisp white shirt to hang on by thread. His torso was slim but certainly defined as you’d caught yourself eyeing the clearly chiseled muscles which would sometimes be left exposed through the thin white material on particularly hot days. You already loved the summer months, and Leorio’s appearance only becoming more obvious to the eye due to the lack of clothing he’d wear in the warmer weather only added a reason to your list of things to love about summer.

Class was boring to say the least. Your professor's voice drowned out completely as the sun peaked in height and forced waves of heat through the glass windows. You sighed and laid your head down on the desk, eyes catching sight of Leorio scribbling down whatever the professor was droning on about. You’d never paid much attention to the boy other than when it came to annoying him and stealing glances at his handsome form. You knew he worked hard but not to the point where you knew how hard. A small smile had formed on your face as you spent the rest of the class peacefully watching your rival take down all the relevant notes, completely uncaring to the fact you had done nothing productive in class yourself.

“Good work today.” Your voice rang through his ears as the two of you packed up. “Me?” he questioned, puzzled expression wiped across his face as you giggled. “Who else?” He shot you a confused scowl before packing up the rest of his things. While you had attempted to compliment him, he had taken it as mockery. The fact you knew finals were approaching but you still gave no effort to revision in class seemed taunting to him. Were you mocking him for having to try hard? Did the whole course just come naturally to you? Leorio didn’t even want to bother finding out. As far as he was concerned he was in med-school for his own reasons and them alone. He hadn’t the time to fool around with pretty things like you, especially not now. You’d only slow him down whether that was your intent or not. He couldn’t afford to lose sight of what he’d been striving for since the start.

“Whatever.” He huffed refusing to take anymore of your constant bothering. He slung his briefcase off the desk and began to head towards the door where the rest of the students were filtering out before you called out.

“Wait!” He halted his steps, body slowly turning to face you as you stood still behind your seat he’d just left you at. “I… I didn’t get the rest of the notes from today, could I get them off of you later?”

Leorio was a little taken aback, but yet he couldn’t see or sense any signs of mockery from you as your earnest eyes held contact with his. “Fine. You know where I’ll be.” He gave in sighing before turning back around and waving you off before exiting. Previous annoyance distinguishing just slightly. He hadn’t a clue what your intentions were, but he could distinguish between the real and the fake, and nothing about the way you looked at him and almost pleaded seemed ingenuine to him.

Leorio was certain he hated you, yet he couldn’t bring himself to deny you either. Walking back to his apartment, he thought back to times where you’d interacted. Majority of them being times you’d gone out of your way to get a rise out of him, but there was something endearing about the way you did it. Leorio felt almost special that you’d pay him and only him attention. Thinking back to it, you’d never bother anyone else, your sole attention aimed directly towards him and him alone. Leorio wasn’t sure if he was allowed to be special, but as any young man would, he did feel a sense of pride over the fact he’d somehow caught the attention of someone like yourself; someone as pretty as yourself. It didn’t matter to him that it wasn’t the typical type of attention a man of his age would prefer to enjoy, but nonetheless he enjoyed the jealous stares of others as you openly teased him and arguably borderline flirted.

Refusing to give into you completely though, Leorio swore he’d keep these thoughts to himself. Admitting how desirable he found you would be stupid on his end. You’d only make matters worse for him, tease him louder in class and gain a dreadful type of attention from others towards the two of you. He found you attractive, but not to the degree where he’d be willing to make a fool out of himself in front of anyone including yourself. It was best to keep you just at arms length and put up with this childish rivalry until you’d graduate and part ways.

A few hours had passed until you had rung up his apartment to be allowed in. Permitting your entrance, Leorio tapped his foot nervously as you made your way up the complex, notes on the coffee table nearby ready for you to borrow and leave. Opening the door upon your knocking, his face warmed at the sight of you dressed down a little more.

The pretty skirt you were wearing short enough to leave little to the imagination as to what was underneath. The cute top you were wearing clung to your figure and hugged all the right places. The only thing covering your modesty was the oversized jacket you’d left hanging off your shoulders so it technically had no other purpose than a poor attempt at covering yourself.

You smirked as you felt your classmate practically eye-fucking you before even entering his apartment. “Your notes.” you spoke suddenly catching him off guard. He sputtered a few times before straightening his stance and inviting you in, a string of incoherent mumbling leaving his lips as he remained flustered due to you catching him in the act of staring. You could only laugh lightly before sashaying in, the clean apartment scanned by your curious eyes.

“Is this them?” you questioned, fingertips dancing over the paper as Leorio joined you by the coffee table. “Indeed they are. Feel free to copy them I-”

“Is that it?” You cut in, flipping the sheets over to see if he’d written more on the other side of the paper. You could've sworn he’d written more, but supposing from the position you’d been watching him in class in, you'dn't hadn’t been able to tell just how much he was writing.

“It’s more than what you’ve done.” He retorted, nerves already stricken. “True,” You mused as you invited yourself to sit on his couch. “But I would’ve expected more from you.”

“Weren’t you just praising me for my work in class?” He huffed, tips of his ears warming up from agitation. “Yeah, I thought you’d generally worked hard though, I didn’t know you’d done so little though.” Sighing, you read over his pristine notes and decided the information was somewhat useful though. “I’ve done so little? Sorry not all of us are naturally gifted and don’t have to work for our grades!” Leorio snapped, temper teetering nearer the edge with each passing second. “Naturally gifted? I do more than enough work thank you!” You hissed back, sharp edge to your voice as you took slight offence to his claim. “Maybe you’d notice if you weren’t so busy staring at my tits in class all the time!”

Leorio was shocked. You’d noticed that? He thought for sure he was less than obvious but sometimes he’d have to admit he’d lose self control and shamelessly stare. You’d never say anything or react though, so he just assumed you hadn’t noticed. That didn’t matter though, because while he’d hold his hands up in guilt for staring at you, he’d caught you on more than a few occasions staring at his arms and then let your eyes trail down below towards his belt. He never said anything though, certain it’d cause him more of a headache than anything.

“Rich coming from you.” He scoffed as you glared right back at him. “With the way you stare at my belt, you would’ve thought the mark schemes written on there.” Heat rushed to both your face and core as his temper triggered something inside of you.

Leorio’s annoyance was nothing new to you, but this bolder and snappier side to him certainly was. It was hot to be blunt and you’d be damned to give up this chance to get rid of the building tension between the two of you.

Months and months of unspoken desires had been piling up between the two of you despite the fact neither of you had openly voiced them. You unknowing acted upon them though, your hungry staring contest in play for as long as you could remember when it came to classes together. You wanted him and the feeling was certainly mutual, but neither of your prides were weak enough to give in; not yet anyway.

The silence was unbearable, your frustrations growing worse by the second until you giggled. His eyes widened at the sudden sounds of your ringing laugher as you smirked up at him. “Fine then, just admit it, you wanna fuck me as bad as I want you to.”

Leorio’s face twisted in disgust, a mask to wear while he thought of a reply. Of course he did. He couldn't count the amount of times he’d taken care of his own frustrations at night imagining it was your throat around his length rather than his hand. He wouldn’t tell you that though. Not just yet at least.

“You’re disgusting.” Yet he doesn’t move when you press your chest up against his, arms looping around his torso battering your eyelashes up at him. His eyes are heavy with a mix of lust and neediness and sharply fixated on you, awaiting your next move. You almost laugh at his pathetic attempt to deny you, afterall you could easily ridicule Leorio to nothing more than a horny young man which was exactly what he was. He might've been a respectful student and aspiring doctor to the eyes of your classmates, but you knew from the start he’d be down bad for anyone willing to offer just the slightest ounce of attention to. He was just too easy. That’s what you had concluded anyway.

“Why haven’t you kicked me out yet then?” You questioned, index finger trailing up his chest as you cupped his cheek, taunting eyes gazing up at his panicking expression. “You could’ve easily given me your notes and hurried me away, but you didn’t, this is what you wanted isn’t it?”

“N-no.” Leorio choked out, flustered state worsening by the second. You were right, he did want this, but if he was going to do this, there was no way he was letting you take charge. Your presence was already dominating enough in the classroom, but you were in his territory now.

“So I’m wrong?” your finger trailed up to his face to cup his cheek as your taunting eyes flickered up towards him.

Tension and patience finally snapped, Leorio grabs your wrist and pulls it away from his face, his own hands reaching up to hold your neck and pull you in. “Just shut up already.”

He’s kissing you. Just like that. His lips are warm and the kiss is a little messy, but you expected this from the start. Both of you are too desperate to care at this point. You’re sure he’s bruising your lips at this point, he’s kissing you like he can’t take it much longer. All intentions of hiding desperation now forgotten, Leorio forces you to see just how badly he did in fact want this, despite his previous denial.

Your hands reach up towards the back of his neck, fingertips beginning to entangle with the short roots of his har, pulling him impossibly closer. He obliges, grunting in response and slotting his thigh between your legs as he groans again.

Your frustrations spike once more when you feel his free hand hikes up your skirt, long fingers dragging along your thigh. Tracing the outline of your practically useless panties, Leorio lets his finger wander along your wet slit, arousal already soaking the material through and through and you feel him smirk. “And the audacity to play coy with me, you wanted this that badly slut?”

You can hardly register what he’s saying to you as your only focus as of now is having his fingers somewhere a little better than on the surface of your heat. “Take them off.” He demands, voice stern but smile teasing with hints of pride. Not caring to bicker back, you whine but oblige to his wishes not wanting to wait any longer. “So you can follow orders then? Good to know.” He hums in approval, rewarding you with his middle finger dragging over your clit leaving you squirming in his grip. His thigh still firmly between your thighs, you’re denied of clenching them together. He’s staring at you intensely, eyes fixated on your twisted expressions as he teases your cunt a little more before adding his thumb.

With his middle finger tracing up and down your core and thumb drawing small but firm circles on the top of your clit, your mind goes blank. You’d fingered yourself plenty of times, but not as well as your classmate and biggest rival was doing right now. “Do you know how many times I’ve thought about you at night.” He sighs, demeanour completely unreadable as he almost looks as if he’s pitying you as he gazes down at your struggling face. You shake your head vigorously, wriggling in his hold in attempts for at least a little more friction. “Most nights.” He confesses with no shame as you let out a gasp as he adds another finger. He’s cautious, but obsessed with the way your walls clench down in his fingers, your arousal coating his fingers each time he pulls out. “M-me too.” You blurt out as his wrist snaps a little faster. He hums satisfied, his suspicions confirmed. He picks up the pace a little more; a reward for your honesty.

You sigh out shakily and whisper small chants of his name. The way your squirming against him has him painfully hard as he grows a little desperate himself. He begins to scissor his fingers in hopes of speeding up the process just a little more, because while he’d love to spend all night holding you in his grip, edging you to the point where you’re begging and crying, his own personal will wouldn’t hold that long, and he absolutely needed to be inside you sooner rather than later.

Arching your back slightly, you whine as he slows down taking in your pretty face. “Please just fuck me already.” You complain, eyes clenched shut as Leorio’s fingers continue their slow work. Grunting in response, he tugs his trousers down, his length springing free against your torso. “Shit.” You breathe out looking down at it.

Leorio’s dick isn’t the prettiest you’ve seen, but he’s definitely the most desirable in both girth and length. He was big, but you would guess that from the start when taking his frame into consideration. He had a few veins running down his dick too, and while he wasn’t the thickest you’d seen, the proportions matched well and you were even lucky enough to notice the slight curve which confirmed the fact you know he’d make you feel good.

Leaving you no more time to admire, Leorio pulled away from you to which you whined at the sudden loss of contact. Sitting down on the couch, he looked up at you and patted his thigh as you quickly stumbled over to him, desperation at its limit. Stopping you before you could sit down, Leorio had you over his lap as he lined his dick up to your entrance. “Sit.” he demanded as your mouth dropped open. He expected you to just sit? So casually too? He must’ve been mad. “I was already nice enough to prep you so why am I waiting?” He scolded, lustful eyes piercing through yours. “-ts too big.” You mumbled, head hung low in shame as Leorio tutted.

“It’s not, you’re not even trying to make it fit anyway.” He scoffed, tensions beginning to build up between the two of you again once more. Nodding your head, you shakily sunk down, eyes flying open as tears begin to form in the corners of your eyes. Crying out, Leorio takes a grain of pity on you as he allows you to recollect yourself. “Last chance before I do it myself,” He warns. “I’ve been generous today, inviting you to my home, letting you borrow my notes and then entertaining your needs, give a little back won’t you?”

Your teeth grit as you prepare yourself to attempt once more, but not before getting in one last snarky response. “Wasn’t it you who was eyefucking me as soon as you opened the door? If I didn’t know any better I’d say you wanted this more than me.” A harsh slap is stricken on your ass as you yelp. “Stop being such a brat, especially after you begged me to fuck you.” He hisses, frustration turning his tone almost angry. “You aren’t fucking me!” You cried out, tears of pent up needs becoming too overwhelming. Your fists are clenching the hem of your skirt and tears are streaming down your face as Leorio looks up at you.

His hands move quickly to his hips as you gasp upon the feeling of your body being pulled down. “You want me to fuck you? Fine, have it your way.” His grip on your hips is firm and you know there will be marks left later, but none of that mattered as of now. The only thing you cared about was having Leorio finally claim you as his in ways you’d imagined while pleasuring yourself most nights. Tears continued to drip down your face as you screamed out Leorio’s name as he plunged his entire length inside of your dripping cunt. It was painful, but slowly, your hips began to move on their own grinding up with his assistance until the two of you built a steady pace turning the pain into pleasure sending your head spinning.

Your tits are fully out and exposed by now, your flimsy top hardly stopping them from spilling out as they bounced at the same pace of your thrusts. Leorio’s eyes stayed focused on them for a while. His pupils gazing up and down at the same rhythm of your chest. He’d experienced the wonders of a female body before, the hunter exam he’d taken over a year ago giving him his first taste of what it really felt like to touch a woman, but this was different. This was a more personal experience, and the fact that he was the one making your body react like this only fuelled his movements as well as his pride.

“Shit- you feel so much better than I thought you - fuck - would!” You moan, your hands gripping his shoulders for support as you feel the coil in your stomach tighten. The praise is sent straight down to his groin as his thrusts are a lot deeper now, hitting against your cervix multiple times over as you start to see stars.

You cry out when he finally hits the right spot, your vision going white as your head tilts back, tongue dropping out your mouth. “There!” You sob. “Right there again!”

Seeing no reason to deny you when you’ve done such a good job of taking him so well, Leorio tightens his grip on your sides as drool begins to pool in your mouth. He leans in close and licks a stripe up your neck before taking a nipple into his mouth resulting in a loud moan to leave your lips. He sucks the sensitive bud as his thrusts show no relent, adamant on hitting the same spot as before.

You’re closing in towards the edge, the knot in your stomach unbearably tight as Leorio continues towards his goal of throwing you over the edge. Pulling away from your chest leaving a prominent bite mark from where he’d had his mouth attached to your nipple, he leans back in to gently lick over the mark. The gentle gesture contrasting the hard thrusts of his hips as he continued to assist in the shifting of your weight up and down his length.

A few more thrusts and you’re crying out his name, a thin line of drool streaming from the corner of your mouth as you come hard all over his cock. You’re so caught up in your own high, you miss the way he smirks at you, but with a gentle twinkle in his eyes. You coming undone is easily the prettiest thing he’s ever seen. The way your lashes cast a faint shadow over your cheeks as your head tilts back and your eyes roll to the back of your head.

While Leorio would love to keep you like this, stay inside you with your expression in place and cum dripping down him, he loses his own self control as just the sight of your fucked out face alone is enough to send him off the edge as he follows suit, loud groan as he fills his load into your dripping hole.

The warmth of his seed spreads through your entire body as your hands drop down from off his shoulders and rest of his chest, the two of you left to catch your breath. The two of you stay like that for just a few more moments. The blissful silence proving all tension, pent up frustrations and emotions had been resolved, the air now perfectly clear.

You flutter your eyes open again, your breathing returning to its regulated pace as you return back to reality. Leorio’s still inside you, his sweaty forehead resting against your shoulders, his breathing returns from ragged to regular.

“Shit.” You breathe out, realisation finally sinking into your head.

“Yeah, shit.” He repeats, tone a lot gentler from before as he lifts his head up to look at you. “And to think you only came by to pick up my notes.”

You laugh a little, his comment stirring not irritation, but genuine happiness through your chest as he offered a gentle smile your way.

“Well,” he spoke, as you gazed back into his now endearing eyes. “I suppose it’s too late for you to walk home.” “If I can even walk at all,” You mused. “You were a lot rougher than anticipated”.

He laughs. thumbs drawings gentle circles on your sides over the harsh marks he’d left on your skin from his tight grip. “What sort of business man would I be if I wasn’t just the slightest bit deceiving?” He hummed. “I thought you wanted to be a doctor.” You humoured back, your hands now finding home around the base of his neck.

“I do, that was a joke,” He said, forehead now resting against your own. “But alongside being a doctor, what I really want,” His voice quiet, barely above a whisper as you nod for him to continue. “Is for you to give us a chance rather than fighting it any longer.”

You smiled and pulled away from him. Head nodding firmly as he gently squeezed your sides. Leorio was right, while the two of you may have had your clases from time to time, there was no denying that there was mutual attraction from the start. Something drawing you into him and that same thing refusing to let him leave.

While the two of you had wasted so much time with petty competitions and arguments, you were certain that now you’d communicated properly, things would be smooth sailing for the two of you from here. Although, you thought to yourself, miscommunication had led you to this very situation. So while you nodded your head agreeing to give the two of you a shot, maybe you’d just have to be a little difficult every so often. Just for the sake of reminiscing and no other reason of course.

#bye no because i’m never writing for him again #i hc him as gen musty and just.. sweaty #i had to imagine someone else while i wrote this sobs #l:eorio stans #this is my pity piece to you i’m sorry your tag is so dry #i’m also sorry i lied #your man doesn’t have the dick i described in the fic #but rather a skinny limp one IM SORRY #i also don’t think he cuts his fingernails even though he’s a doctor #maybe he does idc but they just feel.. yuck to me #ALSO HIS BREATH PROBABLY STINKS IM SORRY #okay.. i’ve got that out my system #followers my beloved.. pls forgive me i’m never writing for him again i promise #i swear on it actually #IT WAS HORRIBLE 😰#BUT I HAD TO SAVE THEIR DYING TAG #leorio smut #leorio x reader smut #hxh smut #hxh x reader smut #🗯pussytalks #hxh #hunter x hunter #hxh x reader #hunter x hunter x reader

279 notes · View notes

lydias--stiles · 3 years

Text

My BFB is the one for me!

juke | human!au + brother!reggie | title from BFB // victorious

If someone had to ask her who the one constant in her life was, she would have to say Luke Patterson. Which was depressing, cause the guy went through life pretending to be a 90s heartthrob and, even worse, that list didn't even include her own mother.

Julie met Luke when she was five and he was six. Her brother Reggie befriended him on the first day of school and the rest was history. "Soul-brothers" they called themselves, which would be cute if they weren't so obnoxious together. Separate, they were somewhat manageable. Put those two in the same room? Chaos would ensue.

He was there for it all. Weekly play dates, birthdays, the occasional holiday, her mom's funeral, band rehearsals. And when Luke had a month-long falling out with his parents, he stayed with them.

Realistically, that should make him seem like a brother to Julie. But neither Carlos or Reggie were as infuriating as Luke was! With the stupid band tees and the stupid smile and the stupid, relentless teasing he lovingly bestowed upon her. She lost count how many times he "poisoned" her soda with salt or woke her with a heart attack by playing his electric guitar. At least she had some grip on her brothers, being their only sister, but Luke…

Luke and her had this interesting, little relationship that she couldn't quite put her finger on and it unnerved her. Like it was an itch she couldn't scratch. (Or maybe he was just an annoying mosquito buzzing around her and should leave her the fuck alone. Probably.)

Hopping down the stairs for her midnight snack, it was no surprise to her to find the idiot gaping into the fridge like a goon. With a nudge of the hip, she pushed him aside.

'Hey!'

'Either pick something or save power,' she retorted, grabbing a bowl of grapes.

He snorted. 'I don't think my indecisiveness is gonna kill the planet.'

She shot him a look, an amused smile tugging on her lips. 'You wanna say that in the cute face of a polar bear?'

Luke stared at her for a beat, a smile crawling on his own face and shaking his head with a chuckle. The fridge fell shut with the pride of a won argument swelling in her chest.

'So why're you still up?', he asked as she flitted around him for the bread and peanut butter. Maybe she could sneak up a butterscotch cookie too - her dad won't notice one missing, right?

Unscrewing the lid, she sighed. 'Mendoza's class is murdering me. I really don't get why we need to learn calculus. We're an arts school, not like any of us are going to use formulas on the set of a movie.'

When she passed him to get the orange juice from the fridge, he took hold of the jar, sliding it between his hands thoughtfully.

'Just don't overthink it,' he shrugged.

She rolled her eyes. 'Easy for you, obviously.'

His mouth fell slack, offended, as Julie put the bottle on the island with mirth glimmering in her expression. After years of sparring with Luke, she knew how to press his buttons and took great joy in doing so.

Suddenly leaning into her personal bubble, he sputtered. 'Are you… calling me dumb?'

Her hand pushed his face back with a scoff. 'Don't breathe on me. All I'm saying is that you look like you have elevator music playing up there 24/7.'

When she went to grab the jar from his hand, he moved it away.

'Uh, I think you're mistaking me for your brother.'

'No-' Tried again, moved away. '-I don't think I do.'

'You do.'

She crossed her arms, resolute. 'He's part of the gifted program.'

It unfazed him. 'Yeah. And it means shit.'

She held her palm up, exasperated. 'Just give me the peanut butter, Luke.'

Raising it over his head with an infuriating smirk, the other tugged on a curl. 'No.'

Gah! He was so dead! Did he forget she lived with three men in this house?!

Without a second of hesitation, Julie barrelled into him and jumped to catch it. Luke snatched her wrist before she could with a laugh, a hitched puff coming right after as her elbow jabbed his ribs.

He set the jar down at lightning speed and grabbed her other wrist. Both their arms were outstretched as her foot kicked his calf, hard. When he yelped, her left hand loosened and dove for the jar. Right as her fingertips grazed the glass, a strong arm snaked around her waist and pulled her back. An "oof!" left her lips, the breath kicked out of her lungs.

Luke guffawed in her ear victoriously, whooping the house together. Curse words rolled off her tongue as she repeatedly slapped his forearm to let go. She felt embarrassingly small with her feet hovering above the floor and this power dynamic was not doing it for her confidence.

'The fuck are you doing?'

Julie smacked to the floor before the last words were uttered, a flabbergasted Reggie staring at the pair.

Luke stammered. 'Uh…'

'Your bestie held the peanut butter hostage,' Julie replied sardonically. 'Did dad wake up?'

He shook his head, a peculiar expression fixed on Luke. Her gaze shot between the two. Were they having… a silent conversation? With the way their brows quirked an lips twitched, it seemed like some "bro-talk" Julie wouldn't even like to understand.

'Don't break your head too much over Mendoza, okay?' Reggie added, smiling at her this time. 'Just relax.'

She sighed. Relax. Because the fear of failure got eradicated with the snap of a finger if she just relaxed. 'Yeah. Sure.'

The boys finally left, silence descended, and Julie made her sandwich. For some reason, the quietude made her uncomfortable.

***

Though Luke was annoying at times, the band he was in - Sunset Curve - definitely wasn't. Reggie, Alex and Luke created it when they were thirteen and overzealous. Reggie and Luke met Alex the same year and bullied him into a friendship, all bonding over cliché lyrics and overused chord progressions. They quickly got better though, earning a small following and a hopeful future in the LA scene. Julie was very proud of her brother. All those hours practicing the bass until his fingers bled was finally paying off with each new gig they rocked.

And as the Molina's were raised to appreciate good music, Julie often found herself sprawled on the leather couch as they rehearsed. Reggie used to hate it, saying she was being "sticky" and "distracting", but eventually found her useful whenever they needed someone to bounce ideas with. She has co-written many of their songs. It was then that Luke was the least annoying, when he was so entranced and passionate about music that he had no time to pester her.

(If she were honest with herself, she'd admit that song-writing with Luke was when she felt like herself the most, enjoyed life the most. But Luke was stupid and she definitely didn't feel a vibe when they wrote, so honesty was obsolete.)

'Or else you'll get,' Luke growled in the mic, music crashing together in their signature punk-rock sound. 'Crooked teeth!'

They shot into an electrifying interlude. Alex headbanging the sweat of his forehead from his fast-paced drumming, Reggie bouncing in his heels as he heightened the bassline and Luke… was being Luke. Julie looked up from her laptop as his strumming came closer, that signature grin fixed on her as his fingers expertly glided across the neck. Her typing paused, amused.

Why was he so adamant about "impressing" her with a riff? He knew she liked their music (and has caught her looking at his hands… ugh, fourteen year old Julie had bad judgement), he didn't have to prove himself or something.

She smiled. 'You're going to miss your cue, idiot!'

Ignoring her exclaim, he bobbed his head to the melody and wiggled his brows. Her eyes drifted to Alex, the blonde staring at Reggie and Reggie staring at the back of Luke's head. This has been happening a lot, Julie realised. There was this weird energy whenever they were all in the same room. For a bit, she thought it was her that was the problem, but if she was, Reggie would've told her by now.

Now Luke was really in her face, pushing her laptop shut with his knee and making those stupid expressions he pulled whenever Grace talked to him in the hallway. Never one to back down, Julie abruptly stood up and pushed him back with a challenging smirk. The boy was seventeen; he was in serious trouble if he lacked the spatial awareness and common sense.

‘Sing with us?!’, he pleaded over the crash of the cymbal. Behind him, Alex’ brows went so far up it disappeared into his snapback. A nervous tug knotted in her stomach at his request, like she was afraid to disappoint him, and shook her head. Keeping up the attitude she nodded at the laptop he so valiantly closed for her.

Pulling it against her chest, she pointed at his bandmates. ‘Go sing about some fucked up teeth more!’

‘Crooked teeth!’, they all yelled in annoyance. Proud to have executed her role an irritating, little sister, she hopped out the studio. If she felt someone’s gaze burning in her back, she must’ve imagined it.

***

There was something to be said about Grace and Luke. Though it wasn’t Julie’s business (or anyone’s, for that matter), the coupling has always intrigued her. Or lack of coupling, really. Every few months they’d find themselves at each other’s lockers flirting up a storm for everyone to see to then ghost each other again. This vicious cycle has been on loop since sophomore year. Julie felt bad for Grace, the pretty senior girl deserved far better than Luke.

Last night, Julie couldn’t sleep. “Crooked Teeth” was blaring in her mind and haunted her dreams (and Luke’s stupid face) until she woke up in a sweat. Something was off. Like solving a math question and knowing the result is wrong but unsure where it all went wrong. Around four in the morning, it hit her. The bridge! It was all jumbled and clunky and she had far better ideas on how to craft it! She sat at her keyboard until seven in the morning, only to stop when a frustrated Carlos barged in, threw a pillow at her and yelled to “zip it!” Reggie and dad, naturally, slept through all of it.

Now, a sleep-deprived, caffeinated and kind of manic Julie was bustling through the hallways trying (and failing) to find Luke. Sure, they butted heads a lot, but music has always been the glue. Temporary glue, but the fact remained that she and Luke were cut from the same cloth when it came to composition and lyrical prowess. (Not that she’d ever admit that. Ew. His ego was large enough as is.)

And then she saw him. At Grace’s locker. Her breath lodged in her throat at the sight. It shouldn’t. God, it truly shouldn’t. But it did. Because Grace was pretty and Luke had one of those faces and they looked good together and it annoyed the fuck out of her. Like, who decided who went through puberty better. Julie knew she wasn’t unattractive, but she wasn’t Grace either. Tall and lithe and glossy black hair and a perfect nose. The ugly, green monster in the back of her head snarled about how her personality was probably off-putting, though Julie knew that to be untrue. Grace was, well, graceful. Genuinely kind. Gah! Since when did Julie hate on other girls? Pushing the voice down, she mustered back the previous excitement (the! bridge!) and paraded towards the pair. Luke saw her before Grace did.

She rushed the last few steps and hastily grabbed the papers from the side pocket of her backpack. 'Luke! Hi, Grace. Okay, I know "Crooked Teeth" is finished, but I couldn't stop thinking about it and I had this amazing idea for the bridge.'

When he didn't react for a beat, stunned by her giddy attitude, her smile mellowed awkwardly. 'I mean… it's your song. You don't have to-'

'No!', he shouted, frantic. Her brows raised in surprise. 'No, uh-' His hand flew to the back of his head, raking the ends of his hair. 'Yeah. D'you wanna go to the music room? To show me?'

Julie’s eyes flitted to a confused Grace. ‘Um…’

Luke caught on and shot the girl an easy grin. ‘Talk to you later, yeah?’

She shrugged. ‘I guess?’

Before she could say anything more, Luke snatched Julie by the wrist and dragged her to the nearest, open music room. The arts school was littered with them, though most had a reserved schedule. Luckily, one was empty.

‘Okay,’ she said, tucking her hair behind her ears as she slid down in front of the piano. Luke sat next to her, expectant. ‘The bridge right now? It’s fine, but it’s not “wow”, you know? I was thinking about how the verses and chorus sound so visceral and loud, so the bridge should have something guttural. Like, primal. That’s a weird word to use, but, I don’t know, have it sound dangerous? Like - why’re you looking at me like that?’

A strange expression was plastered on Luke’s face. A half-grin and wide eyes, like he was scared he’d miss something, like he’d blink and she’d disappear. In other words: he looked insane. Then again, her exhaustion mustn’t look too appealing either.

He shook his head, that smile falling away for something more timid. All the bravado he oozed while talking to Grace just moments before, was gone for shy eyes and fingers gripping the chain around his jeans.

‘Nothing.’ He nudged her. ‘You kinda ambushed me here, Molina.’

Her words stuttered out. ‘I- I was just-’ Zeroing back on the keys with a frown, she said: ‘I’ll just play you the bridge.’

As she did, her mind was elsewhere. This wasn’t weird, right? They’ve done this before. Collaborated, gone to music rooms to bounce ideas back and forth, played until dusk. She knew it wasn’t weird. It was always just a matter of time before the next “ambush” came, as he put it. Soon, he’d barge into her room with half a melody and forced her to finish it. This was normal.

Then why did her skin ripple with anticipation from his intense gaze directed on her temple?

When she finished, she kept her eyes on the keys. Suddenly, his hand appeared in her vision and softly patted her knuckles, urging her to look at him anyway. He had that strange look again, the sight letting the most peculiar feeling rush through her veins.

Luke smiled. ‘I like it.’

‘Yeah?’

‘Wanna play it for the boys during next rehearsal?’ His brows raised with hope, head leaning her way as if he wasn’t already close enough. And he wasn’t close enough.

Julie went on autopilot at this point, too enthralled by her emotions running wild. ‘Yeah.’ It came out breathy and foolish and if she had half a brain cell right now, she’d kick herself in the face for how dumb she sounded.

His hand squeezed hers and then let go, that smile turning nervous. Oh God, did he notice how weird she abruptly got? ‘Cool. Sweet. Perfect. Your- this was perfect. I’ll see you, uh, -’

‘Yeah,’ she squeaked. ‘Whenever.’

When he left the room in a hurry, her face planted itself on the keys and erupted a harsh sound. Fitting, she believed. Her mind was a mess too.

***

Then stuff began piling on and each time it did, Julie’s heart fluttered like the traitorous bitch it was.

Like when Luke told her to tell calculus to “bite her” as a joke, but then she actually did during a test and somehow didn’t get a black out. She knew it was likely just a placebo, but the grin she earned later on when she showed him the B+ and he gave her the tightest hug was worth the pseudo-science.

Or he found her in the hallway whenever they both had a free period and casual small talk turned to slamming each other into lockers or, more recently, pulled her outside to get boba from the place right across the street. Their boba hangouts were probably the strangest development of all, but it was… nice. Pleasant. If she ever secretly thought it was a date, then it must’ve been a sun stroke hitting her.

Or she’d be doing her homework and he’d waltz into her room (because he was always at their house and that never changed) and randomly help her with a task or question. It was small and it usually slowed her down, but she hasn’t had the guts to turn him away either. She blamed his stupid smile.

Or just yesterday they were all in the kitchen and she was peering over Reggie’s shoulder as he tried and failed to properly text his crush Kayla, when she said:

‘Isn’t that weird? That you’re talking to a junior?’

Luke, who was looking over his other shoulder, scoffed. ‘Why would that be weird?’

Pointing at the emoji he should be using (the purple heart - duh!), she shrugged. ‘I don’t know. You just don’t see a lot of people date outside of their year. It’s, like, an unspoken rule.’

Reggie pouted. ‘Not helping, Jules.’

‘I am! Use the purple heart!’

Luke snorted. ‘Please, if you were asked out by some senior boy, you’d say no?’

The Molina’s looked up from the phone to shoot him a weird look. The boy shrunk under their stare, fingers nervously drumming island.

Caution tinged her voice. ‘I don’t know… should I?’

The boys stared at each other for a beat. That “bro-talk” again, Julie presumed with a roll of the eye. Typical.

‘Yes,’ Luke trailed, unsure. ‘You should say no.’

A ball of disappointment dropped to the pit of her stomach at his words - hard. Oh. So he didn’t mean himself then. Julie froze. Why would she even want that? She was not returning to her fourteen year old self that gawked at Luke like an idiot. Nope. Not happening. Just because she felt flushed and ecstatic every Wednesday afternoon when they schedules lined up, that didn’t mean her crush has resurfaced. Totally.

But then something even more maddening happened. It was Thursday afternoon, right before lunch, when Nick approached her by her locker. She’d been fervently texting a sick Flynn to get better when he started asking about dance class and how on earth he was supposed to master a calypso by Monday next week. He was clearly stressed and Julie gave him a hug. Just as she was going to offer her help (or redirect him to Kayla, as she was an actual dance goddess), a familiar arm draped around her shoulder and pulled her back.

Julie was fuming. Luke decided to start acting like some jovial prick as he intimidated Nick with all these terror stories about his own dance assignments from last year and that “a calypso was just the beginning.” The poor guy was practically passed out from anxiety by the time his spiel was over. She couldn’t even yell an apology as he sped off and spun around the corner at lightning speed.

The arm fell away, Luke stared at her ridden with guilt, muttered some half-assed “sorry” and rushed off in the opposite direction. A baffled, angry Julie was left standing there.

If Luke thought he could be some white knight, he was dead wrong.

***

She got lucky. Reggie mentioned beforehand Luke was coming over and knew that he, inevitably, would ascend the stairs. A pent-up Julie paced in her room, feeling that fever pitch come to a boiling point. Argh! Why was he so… infuriating?! (And attractive?! And charismatic?! Argh!)

Then she heard it. His tentative steps up the steps. Like he knew. The fact that she was seemingly predictable left her cold this time, slamming her door open at just the right moment to snatch his wrist and roughly yank him inside.

Before he could react, she yelled: 'What the hell, Luke?! Why did you do that?'

Luke was a stammering, embarrassed mess. Good. 'Uh- I- I-'

'You can't just act all overprotective or possessive like that! What's your problem with Nick? He's super nice and, you know, my friend. I already have two brothers, I don’t need one more!’

'I-'

'You don't get to decide who I talk with! Or save me or whatever fantasy you were living in! And-!'

'I like you, Jules,' he blurted.

Julie was blazing though. 'So? That doesn't mean that-' Until the words dried on her tongue, stunned. All else she had prepared to say flew out the window. The constant fluttering in her heart hitched. Did she… hear him correctly? 'W-what?'

A beat went by, like he couldn’t believe he actually said that, but then word vomit spewed out. 'I- I like you? Like, on and off since I was eleven and I tried to not like you - I really tried - but you're just incredible and pretty and an amazing singer and you keep doing that thing with your lips when you have a thought and it's been killing me seeing Nick shoot his shot and-'

Julie dove forward and pressed a kiss on his rambling mouth. Stretched on her tippy toes, she saw him freeze and stare at her in wonder. Slowly, her poor heart began to beat again, fast and fond and for him and oh my God, what was happening?

'Did you just-', he croaked.

Shit. Should she have asked to kiss him first? Her hands didn't leave his shoulders, alarmed. 'Uh… you just kept talking and-' She swallowed back her nerves and mustered a smile. 'If you wanted to be my boyfriend, you could've just asked.'

Luke blinked, completely in awe by her words. 'What?'

Alright. Time to take life by the balls, Molina.

'You didn't think I might like you back?'

An incredulous laugh puffed from his lips, looking from her hands on his shoulders and then grabbed onto her waist. Jitters burst in her stomach at the sudden touch. This was actually happening. Holy shit. But God, how could she deny that bright smile and his warm smile and that giddy feeling that rippled her skin each time they hung out?

'Can we try that again?', he breathed.

His grin captured hers before she could fully nod, his hands slipping to her lower back and jaw without hesitation. Her arms slung around his neck, finally getting a feel for his soft locks of hair. Heat grew from her chest to her toes, curling from bliss. She felt deliciously empty and full of glee all at once.

Her back fell against the door with a giggle. Just as he went back in, she pressed a finger on his lips.

'Still doesn't make it right what you did.'

'Yeah.' He kissed her again. 'Sorry.'

She tried saying more, but each word was muffled by another warm kiss of his intoxicating lips and all she could do was melt against him. The odd lyric that “heaven was his lips and larger than paradise” passed her by, hopefully reminding her of its existence in an hour or two.

His fingers slipped under her shirt and dug into her heated skin. They became lazier, the kisses open-mouthed and smiling and already so amazing at first try. Julie has kissed a handful of boys before, but this? Unmatched.

Two sudden knocks against wood. ‘Julie?’

They froze, Julie slapping a hand over his mouth to stifle his inevitable snicker.

‘Have you seen Luke?’, Reggie continued, confusion lacing his voice.

‘No!’, her voice squeaked, still affected by their make-out. Cringing, she tried to level it. ‘Uh, maybe he’s gone to the, uh-’ His lips grazed her neck, teasingly. She pinched his arm, but he didn’t lean back. Asshole. ‘-uh…’

‘Julie? Everything okay?’

‘Yeah! Yeah! I’m fine!’ Julie pushed Luke back again, this time the boy giving her some space. The wolfish smirk he was sporting was one she either wanted to slap or kiss away. ‘Maybe he’s in the bathroom? Annoying Carlos? The studio?’ Not my room!

They held in their breaths as they waited for a reply. Her mind was failing to catch up to what she’s just done. Here she was, with flushed lips and tingling skin from Luke’s actions as her brother was meandering on the other side of the door. How did she end up here?

He blew a raspberry. ‘Okay…’ They sighed. ‘When you’re done making out, can you force Luke to start our project? Kind of an important assignment.’

Luke’s face crashed into pure horror, mouth falling agape and skin pale as a ghost. Julie snorted despite herself, dropping her head on his shoulder in an attempt to muffle her giggles but failing horribly. Of course, Reggie knew. His dreamy nature made anyone forget how observant he actually was, yet here he instantly he had his pulse on the facts. Or he’s always known about Luke’s crush on her. Probably both.

Her smile stretched against the fabric of his shirt. Luke had a crush on her. Luke liked her.

Reggie’s footsteps faded away, his bedroom door falling shut. Their gazes met again.

Luke gulped, green eyes wide and oh so adorable. ‘He took that surprisingly well.’

Her chin raised, haughty. She hasn’t forgotten about that infuriating face of his just one minute before. ‘You kissed my neck.’

That look returned as he hummed, edging closer. ‘I did.’

‘You’re an asshole, you know that?’

His face brightened at her words, weaving a hand through her and making her sigh just like that. She was gone and she didn’t even know it. ‘And you’re-’ he murmured, softly kissing her lips, ‘-into that.’

How desperately she wanted to keep this going, she has heard what Reggie said. An important project due. She shouldn’t trouble her brother like that, even if making out with his best friend was far more appealing than anything else in the world right now.

The measly words puffed out. ‘You have-’ kiss ‘-a project-’ kiss ‘-with Reggie.’ kiss.

‘Hmm…’ Letting her stand between his legs to be even closer and consequently shutting down any rationale, Luke mumbled against her lips: ‘One more minute.’

In the end, Luke stayed for another thirty minutes before Reggie barged in, dragged the boy from Julie’s bed by the collar and wordlessly trucked back out the room. When later that night she received a text saying goodnight jules 💙 she knew she hadn’t been dreaming.

And when Luke kissed her square on the lips the next day for everyone to see, Julie had inkling this interesting, little relationship of theirs was the just the beginning.

@blush-and-books @bluefirewrites @willexx @unsaid-emily @sophiphi @ourstarscollided

#jatp fanfiction #juke #julie and the phantoms #otp: i think we make each other better

305 notes · View notes

urlocalnctstan · 3 years

Text

𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙻𝚎𝚏𝚝 𝚄𝚗𝚜𝚊𝚒𝚍 - 𝙹.𝚂𝙶

• Candy Hearts Collab - @127-mile

Prompt : “I came to say goodbye.”

Genre : Angst, Fluff, kinda Slow-burnish?, Slice of life, highschool + college AU

Pairing : Sungchan X Reader (Ft. Jeno)

Warning(s) : mentions of bullying and injury (like one scene only), unrequited love, mentions of slight anxiety, hormonal shifts, language, minor character death

Writing nets : @kdiarynet @k-dinernet @kpopscape @czennienet @neoturtles

Taglist : @eh-ovo-nctu

WC : 9.7k

Summary : What people hated the most is the very word ‘goodbye’. However, it’s the very word that becomes something that you yearn to hear from Sungchan for years.

→ Playlist [recommended]

The sound of the rain was supposed to calm you down, not make you even more anxious and sweaty and you sat with your legs firmly pressed against each other, hoping to fill in the lack of company you were feeling amongst the swarm of people who perhaps shared the same dreams, same aim as yours. Public places as trains, trams, bus stops; you always thought they portrayed as the perfect definition for the word ‘sonder.’ Each individual having a life pretty much as complex as yours — sometimes a little less or sometimes a little more. It fascinated you.

“Do you think the trip is worth it?” Lee Jeno, your best friend of quite a few years puffs his cheeks as he stared dubiously at the red and white poster he held. You took a peek at it, the amount of times Jeno had been pestering you if he should really give up the money he had saved for PS5 as a sacrifice for this trip, it was safe enough for you to say that you had every words printed on it memorized. Well, maybe not every words but the main stuff at least.

“Lee Jeno,” You sharply gawked at the male sitting beside you, earning an ugly grimace from him. “Stop it already. I don’t know about you but I ain’t passing this chance.”

“Wah, what a nice friend I got.” You failed to notice the dramatic eye roll he makes before shoving the poster in his backpack, the one he had been using since the first day you had befriended him. Was it 5 years? 6 years?

“Are we five years or six years?” But I met him on that bookstore down my neighborhood, that was like spring of 2017 and now it’s 2021.

The male let out a snort. “If I am a five year-old then you are definitely still inside the womb.” Even though he was smiling with that ‘innocent eye smile’ the evil smirk sheathed beneath went unnoticed by you. No sooner had he opened his mouth, a fresh harsh smack landed on his arms that were clad in a filmsy material of cotton and thus a silent yelp of pain escaping from him as he grabbed the area which was starting to sting with each passing second. The smack, albeit meant for him, you were unable to ignore the similar stinging pain in your palm, tears pricking in the corners of your eyes. But you made sure to show absolutely no signs of distress; it was somewhat a matter of childish pride for you.

“Change your career aim from a perfumist to an assassinator will you?” If it were the campus grounds, you two would have already been latched at one another throats; both metaphorically and literally.

“I will gladly not.” You huffed at the male whose eyes held a scornful gaze, now even more annoyed or perhaps, as you would think most of the times, he was just exaggerating. You found yourself mindlessly scrolling through your gallery in search of the recent notes from Mr. Kim’s classes. Until you stumble across something you had been long avoiding, a forlorn fragment from the former days of your high school.

“Here lies the proof of my utmost love and affection, always devoted to my only Y/N.”

It was a picture of you smiling way too bright, cheeks and nose flushed red while being squished by the only male in the frame as he pressed a peck against your cheek. His neck was craned to the side, ripe ears clearly visible in the small Polaroid film. As much as you hated to admit, your heart would still make flips and turns whenever you run into something that reminded you of him, your very first love and first heart break—Jung Sungchan.

Jeno was too busy in his dreamland as he dozed off with his head resting peacefully against your shoulder. It was no new news that the lad had been immensely in love with you ever since the first time you saved him from getting bullied back in 9th grade. However, you were always too busy with your academics and extra-curricular activities and thus clearly drawing a line of only being friends. Nothing else. It happened when Jeno had finally mustered up the courage after excelling in his Maths Olympiad, where he made a bet that if he indeed secures a place in the top 5, you have to abide by anything he wishes for. But he wished for your love, something you were not really capable of doing so; especially at that time. You did not have the heart to say no when Jeno jogged up to you, his eyes transforming into crescents as he smiled wide. “I did it!” His words came out rather breathy, possibly because of him running to you, and maybe because how hard he could feel his heart thump against his ribs when he noticed the proud grin on your face. Without wasting any moment further, Jeno lets go of the white banner of achievement he had been holding, his hands now focusing on yours. You could almost feel the slight tremble and the wetness of his sweaty palms, but before you could even say anything he beat to you by saying, “Go out on a date with me. Only one.”

There were numerous times when you felt guilty about turning down Jeno. At times it had you baffled that why a guy like him would ever bother liking you so much. Jeno was incredibly talented; gifted with unfair boon of genius traits in both academics and athletics. His little version of him always demeaned his abilities, often failing to notice that how much more he was rather than just a quiet kid who loved coding and maths. Maybe perhaps that was the very reason for him to face the bullying, at least that’s what you thought when you first noticed him getting cornered by some stupid idiot dipshits from your class during recess. Jeno’s ID card lay discarded on the ground, as Kihyun grabbed its owner by the collar. You could not understand his reason for not fighting back, and thus being a silent spectator was never your thing so you decided to butt in. As much as you equally hated and liked one thing, boys seemed to get kinda wary of your presence. Especially boys like these who were already in the blacklist of the teachers. It did not take them long to pick their asses and run from the site when you glared them with a threatening gaze, a single word from the class president and they would get suspended yet again for the umpteenth time in the year. You crouched down to Jeno’s level, carefully handing him his ID. You did not bother asking him if he was okay, of course he wasn’t. His face showed signs of previous injuries, the purple hues of bruises slightly fading beside his jaws. You still don’t know why but you felt the need to protect him from his solace, thus leading to this inseparable bond of yours.

But that was a version of him that was long forgotten. Jeno had become the star and face of the school in the last years of your highschool. Acing various quiz competitions, Olympiads, getting highest grades, being the captain of the soccer and basketball team; you were sure God really had His favorites.

You were not surprised when Jeno brought you to your usual favourite—candle shop. It was a hidden gem in your hometown, a small secluded shop located just a few miles away from the metropolitan. Not everyone was aware of its existence until that one day you decided to act rebellious for once in your school life. Of course dragging Jeno into this so called rebel act with you. The date was rather casual, just two friends messing around with wax and chemically named perfume essences. The shop was owned by a lady close to your grandma’s age, and it still makes you wonder how on earth was she able to keep up with the hollering you two were making. No matter how much you convinced yourself that maybe you could give the boy a chance, and perhaps feelings might grow on you later on; you could not make yourself cloud your rationality with the uncertain possibilities. You confessed every single thing that had been on your mind and Jeno just calmly listened to everything you uttered. You could clearly see the expression of hurt washing over his face, but he knew you. He knew that once you had made up your mind, there was no going back. The night did not cause any indifference in your friendship; it bloomed with each passing years of your middle school and then highschool. You two had become the infamous bestfriends, the once timid boy then all buff and handsome and the once spotlight lover girl then buried in her textbooks to pass the college entrance exams.

Throughout these years of teen, the candle shop had become a constant place for anything to you both; sadness, comfort or just enjoyable times. Until that one day when you met the grandson of the lady who owned the shop. Make a guess who it was.

When people spoke of their first heartbreak, you always cringed at how they exaggerated. Technically you never experienced one, so it seemed ridiculous to you that how was it possible to a simple break to cause others this much pain. You were shocked, no scratch that. Using fancy words, you were utterly bewildered when you saw the new transfer student—Jung Sungchan was the name, standing on the makeshift podium of your classroom. Thank God the architects decided to stick to keeping the height of the room above eight feet. You had changed drastically, contrasting your previous bubbly persona, you had become more reserved. It was just you being ambitious about something you had grown to like, and after some backstabs from your friends, you did not feel the need to have so many around you. Just Jeno being there for you was more than enough.

It would be a lie if Jeno did not sense the subtle looks you had been sending over to the new guy, but he was in no place to object you. It had only been a few moments of Sungchan’s arrival and Jeno already sensed his position in your life being threatened. He knew you were a saint who always looked out for others, and something about his presence made Jeno feel wary. Jeno did not need any of the privileges he had, all of it he owed to you after all. It was you who brought the best out of him, and in the end if he has them all but not you, it wasn’t clearly worth it to him. You preferred unpredictable things; it was what he learned about you in all your years of friendship. How you would always choose mystery thrillers over typical rom-coms, how you would always vouch for the new dish in the menu every time you both visited the local barbecue house. And he knew it was impossible to be one like that, it was just typical Taurus things (as he would like to blame) that made him too practical, too predictable for you. But, you never thought like that. It was just that even though you wanted to, you couldn’t make yourself grow romantic towards the boy you always shared your oreos and ramen with. He held a dear place in your heart and life.

Sungchan was immediately welcomed to the family, the girls already swooning over his good looks and amazing grades. Plus icing on the top, he was the half-brother of the infamous Jung Yoonoh, the heartthrob of the whole school, from juniors to seniors. While Jaehyun was the typical definition of being that one dude we always see in rom-coms who is loved and admired by all for his too humble personality and ethics, Sungchan on the other hand was more of a quiet one, often too shy properly open up his orginal self around new environment. Despite that, he was naturally amiable just like his brother, a trait that perhaps ran in the Jung household. Unlike Jaehyun who was presumably born with good brains, Sungchan was a hardworking one. Sungchan tried to settle down the queasy feeling he had been feeling ever since he moved back here, now that Jaehyun was always busy in Seoul with his medical degree someone had to look after their aging grandma. Sungchan was never really a part of any group, so leaving behind his school back in the city was not that painful for him. The atmosphere of the whole campus was pretty soothing; the bushes of neatly trimmed trees, big huge playground and the ochre shaded building. He liked all of it, and to top it all the uniform was really his style: solid crème and dark maroon combination.

When Sungchan stood awkwardly in the middle of the classroom, clearly clueless as to where he would be seating since all the seats were occupied, a soft voice called out his name rather eagerly. His eyes scanned for a while until he saw you; dark hair tied up neatly into a ponytail with a pencil in your hand as you waved him to notice the empty seat beside yours. Sungchan smiled at your sweet gesture, his out of place feeling now subsiding into the warmth of the possible blooming friendship.

“Hi there, I am Y/N.” You chirped, wiping your left hand before bringing it out for him to shake. Sungchan froze for a while before he realized what he was supposed to be doing. “Oh! And this is Jeno!” You turned slightly towards your best friend sitting just behind you with his famous eye smile.

“Hello, I am Jung Sungchan.” He returned the gesture shaking both your and Jeno’s hand. Whilst Jeno had the feeling of roughness and athleticism in his, your hands were warm and soft; it felt nice he thought. That was the first impression of yours to him: ball of sunshine. And your impression of him? Reserved and unpredictable; a combination that only meant chaos and imbalance.

Sungchan side-glanced at your fumbling state. Seating next to him you in the front row, you skimmed over your not so pleasant looking notes that you had scribbled anxiously in the prior night. Public speaking had never been a big deal for you once you get adjusted to the audience after going up on stage. However, it is the pre anxiety session that just always riles you up.

“You know,” Your head whipped a bit too fast to your liking at the voice belonging to the only male that sat beside you. “I’ll show you a trick. Here.” Sungchan proceeded to softly place your trembling hands on his, cautiousness apparent with every move he made. Even though you both had been seatmates for the last three months, you never found yourself involved in any sort of skinship with him; something that was really common for you and Jeno. The look of fluster was way too obvious when Sungchan softly rubbed various shapes on the back of your hand with his thumb, you were unsure if he was actually helping you ease from nervousness or just increasing it further. It had quite been a while since you had your hands caged in his, both of you completely unaware of the looks you had been getting from your senior teachers seated in the neighboring row. The moment was cut off when your name was announced from the stage by a senior, requesting your presence to commence your speech. Sungchan slowly lets go of your hands, mumbling a soft ‘best of luck!’ with his hands now fisted as an act of verbal encouragement. You eyes wandered around the crowd for a while before locating your best friend who sat miserably beside the homeroom teacher, really closing to dozing off before noticing your presence and copying Sungchan’s gestures.

The bus paused, Jeno still deep in his slumber despite the harsh jerk of the vehicle stopping in its tracks. You sighed, he must have probably been gaming the whole night with his roommate Donghyuck again. You nudged softly at first, the lack of response later than causing you to shake him vigorously by his toned arms that barely fit in your palms. Jeno instantly sprinted up with wide eyes before softly muttering a curse at your cruel way of waking him up.

“I was definitely right about you being a torturer in your previous life.”

“Sure you were. Get your ass off the bus now.”

You parted your ways with Jeno on the campus ground, him heading to his coding facult while you headed towards the chemistry club room. Apparently a newbie was supposed to come today from the US. It was odd you assumed since US had much better facilities for students majoring in chemistry. You glanced at your figure on your way to the room, wondering if the ripped jeans were a good choice as a first impression. You just disliked the idea of leaving off bad impressions, even if you are never going to meet the person again until your next life. Jaemin, another close friend of both you and Jeno smiled widely at your entrance, waving his hand as he pointed the seat next to him enthusiastically. Jaemin and you were basically clones of each other, the leos inside of you both shinig at its best whenever you two are together.

“I don’t understand why move back here from THE United States.” Jaemin dragged out the word, scoffing silently as he handed you a cup of iced Americano. You were about to sip before pausing. You could not have possibly risked your stomach again after that one fateful day when you tasted ‘his type’ of iced Americano. This dude legit gulped down eight espresso shots with a satisfied hum, horrified looks painted on your and Jeno’s features as you both just stared at him in utter shock.

“Please not the poisonous drink.” You eyed the male suspiciously, who scoffed at the nickname.

“Of couse not little baby.” Jaemin cooed with his lips puckered and an annoying high pitched voice, purposefully pinching your cheeks a bit harder than he usually does.

“You little moth-”

“Hello guys, I am Sungchan. Nice to meet you all.” Your heart dropped at the familiar tone of voice. He isn’t possibly back again after leaving without any traces, without a single goodbye, is he? You did not dare to look at his figure standing in front of the table, awkwardly shifting in your seat while Jaemin furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

“Hello, Sungchan.” Sulli, your senior by 2 years and also the president of the club greeted him warmly. “I hope you like it here because adjusting to a new place might be hard at times. Oh, these are your classmates; Y/N and Jaemin.”

Sungchan immediately looked in your direction at the mention of your name, his eyes equally wide in surprise mirroring your previous reaction.

“Y/N?” He called out in a rather unsure tone, just like his movements the cautiousness was also present there. “It’s been……a while….”

“Yeah, indeed.” You had a visible change in demeanor, Jaemin finally grasping the tense situation before jogging up to the male.

“Hi there, I am Na Jaemin. You can call me Nana if you want.” Jaemin put his hand out as a formality, to which Sungchan politely complied. “There’s a seat there you can sit.” Jaemin was luckily wise enough to occupy the empty seat beside yours without knowing the turn of events. He motioned Sungchan towards the seat diagonal to you, sensing the discomfort in your posture he assumed it was best if Sungchan sat somewhat further.

Concentrating on the yearly planning for the club was harder with his presence; Sungchan unable to hide his obvious lingering gaze on you. Jaemin would cough every now and then, signaling the male to focus on the club president’s instructions instead of you. But as his usual self, Sungchan pretended to not notice the clear hints, continuing keep his eyes locked on yours. You were barely able to note down some important events, knowing that Jaemin certainly cannot be trusted with his short time memory. After that president bids her farewell to everyone present in the room, you take it as your cue to just flee as soon as possible from his reach.

“Y/N, wait!” Sungchan was quick to grab you just as you were about to exit by the door, the sudden halt in movement causing you to stumble back into his embrace awkwardly. You were definitely embarrassed, your back pressed against his chest in a weird manner as you straighten yourself again. You scrunched you nose to hide your embarrassment before asking him.

“What is it now Jung Sungchan?” You were not meaning to snap at him, but the bitter memories of the past seemed to get the best of you.

Sungchan slightly winced at your cold tone, but what else could have expected after all the pain he had caused you. “I…I do..I mean like I..”

“Sungchan, I have my classes. Gather up your thoughts and then talk.” With that you turned on your heels, not even bothering to take your bag that you left on the seat you were prior sitting. Jaemin observed the scene quietly, his minds finally connecting the dots. Jung Sungchan, the boy you would always cry about whenever you got drunk, the boy who left you with nothing but memories of him. Jaemin thought it was best to not let out his inner frustration towards the guy who was now standing motionless in his tracks, lost in his trance as he gaped towards the door you had just left. Jaemin passed by Sungchan without a word, instinctively grabbing your bag as he made his way to his next class.

Sungchan stood dumbfounded, numerous thoughts racing in his mind. Why did I have to be so foolish? He thought. How can I blame her when I was the one who broke the promise first?

Summer 2017

It was getting pretty boring for you at the library; usually some of the classmates bickering would give you some sort of silent company as you scribble down the notes. But for some unfound reason you seemed to be extremely distracted. You let out a long annoyed huffed, hands stretching in weird directions as you rested your head on the wooden table. It struck your mind there might be butts of nails pointed out and you didn’t want to get yourself a shot of tetanus, so you lazily glided your hands across the surface before returning back to your half laying position. It didn’t take long for you to zone out, mind running through various scenarios of university life, jobs and perhaps marriage? You blushed at the thought, just like any other teen you were also low-key always looking forward to your wedding.

“Are you asleep?” You shot up startled at the sudden voice, eyes immediately widening as you realized the owner. Sungchan had a smile with his lips pressed into a thin line, casually pulling out the empty seat beside yours as he made himself comfortable on it.

“Good to know you’re not. I need your help.” Sungchan wasted no time rummaging out a stack of sheets from his backpack, pressing them against the wood with a loud thump. You slightly winced at the loudness since the library was extra quiet today, the sound thus bouncing off more.

“You know if it’s literature, I suck at it.” Your mind took you back at that one time when you almost got yourself a C on the mentioned subject, chills running down at the memory.

“No, no.” Sungchan waved his hands softly chuckling. “It’s actually chemistry. Judging as a seatmate, I believe it’s your best sport.”

You happily nodded at the male, pleased that you get to help him with something that was under your specialty. Sungchan took a notice of your happy state, equally pleased that it was you that would be helping him.

“Tell me, what can I help you with.” You took the fat book from his hold, skimming over the contents page before highlighting the topics that were extremely important for the semester.

“I think hybridization? I just can’t seem to get how it works!” Sungchan’s voice levitated suddenly out of frustration, momentarily catching you off guard. Sungchan seemed to notice your amused look, shyly rubbing the nape of his neck with a little shrug.

“You know this is the first time I’ve seen you frustrated.” You commented, eyes fixated on the pages even though they were being extremely reluctant to rather focus on the fussy male. “It’s pretty easy you know. Look.” You explained him cautiously and slowly, how the overlapping of the orbitals occurred not realizing the proximity that seemed to lessen drastically. You whipped at his direction to see any signs of confusion, only to be met with a pair of dark orbs that stared at you intently. As embarrassing as it may sound, you gulped loudly. A bit too loud than you had intended to.

Sunghcan took notice of the situation you both blanketed in as a wave of déjà vu washed over him. He cleared his throat loud and awkward, half to lessen the embarrassment you were feeling and to poorly hide his own. You both were looking everywhere but each other, too dumb to maximize the close distance instead of acting like awkward cats.

“What are you both doing?” a deep male voice jerked you back to reality, upon turning you saw it belonged to Jeno. When did he come here?

“She was explaining the hybridization shits.” Sungchan huffed, slowly settling back to his orginal position. “I asked you so many times though…”

“You know chemistry is not my cup of tea.” Jeno shrugged at the male, a lazy smile playing on his face. “You wanna stay for b-ball practice today?”

“Not sure, I’ll see to it mate.” Sungchan did that fist-bump with Jeno, the two casually mingling like old friends as you stared idiotically at the scene unfolding in front of you.

“Since when did you both become Damon and Pythias?”

“Y/N, please not again your alien languages.” Jeno rolled his eyes before taking the seat beside, sandwiching you between both the males. “Since you happen to be tutoring a clown, an addition of another clown won’t do you any harm.” Jeno smiled at you, his doe eyes disappearing in the process.

Sungchan held back his snort, looking over both of you, he was happy. Though he was not as close to you as he had become to Jeno, he still considered you somewhat a close friend of his. Being seatmates with you and Jeno, it was inevitable that he soon became a constant in your life. Did I tell you that the candle shop was owned by his grandma? The shop if anything, had become this secret spot for you three. Study dates, random chills or just lazying around, the candle shop would be the first name that would pop up in your mind.

With a blink of an eye perhaps junior year passes. Maybe that was how last years of highschool were. At one moment you barely just got promoted to a new class, and at another, you’re yet again getting promoted to higher one. You sat under the dull moonlight, a thin cardigan that was gifted to you by your dearest friend’s grandma. When Sungchan invited you and Jeno at his, his grandma had knitted this cardigan for you and a beanie for Jeno. The gesture was so sweet that it completely melted your heart, she was the living definition of wholesome for you.

It was maybe that one day when you three decided to stroll the spring fair of your neighborhood, when you both finally came clean to your feelings. Jeno was always the one pointing you out that how you should just be a woman and confess. “It doesn’t always have to be the guy that says I LIKE YOU!” This what we he said before disappearing into the hives of crowds, leaving you waiting for Sungchan at the front of the public toilet he was finishing his business in. Pretty awkward right? Where else does anyone get to see a girl waiting for her crush in front of a public restroom. Sungchan came back outside, shuffling out his handphone before furrowing his brows at the text he just received. You immediately understood it was from Jeno. You had no idea what came over you, it felt like the adrenaline in your system decided to flood your nervous system, not even aware of yourself just launching at the dude with a chaste kiss on his lips. He was completely taken aback by the sudden feeling of your lips on his, it took him a while before responding you back with the same enthusiasm. You broke first from the kiss, not realising your fists crunching his prior perfectly ironed shirt. But he did not mind it all, a shy smile playing on both of your faces. The rest of the night was spent with your hands laced in his, just like another high school sweethearts of the time.

You smiled at the memory. Sungchan had a cigarette lit between the tips of his fingers, the tobacco smoke slowly poking your nose but not strong enough to bother you. With a deep sigh, he took a puff before blowing it own again in the air, a cloud of smog dancing around his figure.

“You should quit it, it’s not healthy.” It had already been a year since you became friends and six months since you became more than it, but there were times like this when you still found yourself nervous and wary whenever you are talking to him. You snuggled yourself into the cardigan, hugging yourself to minimize the tinges of frostbites. Sungchan was considerate of your discomfort, whenever he smoked, he made sure the cigarette was at least 2 feet away from you.

“Take this.” Sungchan handed you another thick layer of clothing from his bag, his initials “J.SG” written big and bold. Without much thought, you accepted his kindness, and Sungchan had high tolerance to cold anyways unlike you who would shiver to death in the most usual temperatures. You figured Sungchan decided to dodge the topic you brought it, and you figured it would be better to not bring it up for a while.

“Where do you plan on going for college.” Sungchan spoke while rubbing the shortened cigarette on the bricks of the roof, swallowing the remaining water from his bottle throwing a strawberry gum inside his mouth. You figured he was now free from the reek of tobacco as you scoot closer to his form, opening your arms within the jacket for his to snuggle in as well. Just like Jeno, skinship was no new news for you both too, however; it always had your heart racing like crazy. You both remained cozy under the warm embrace of the jacket, and you prayed Sungchan would never listen how your pulse was acting up.

“I don’t know. Perhaps SNU? I mean only if I get accepted...” You trailed off, propping your chin against your bent knees before glancing at the boy. Then it struck you, what made him ask this sudden question, what made him smoke three cigarettes straight despite having yearly break for a whole month. “Will you be going to the US as well?”

“I don’t know...” Sungchan deeply sighed, his lips forming a small pout as he indulged in deep thought. What if he actually happens to leave for America? Your heart clenched at the thought, mimicking his sighs you rested your head against his shoulder.

“You know,” You stared at the sky, it was dark and clear with no signs of stars. The feeling was unsettling. “Wherever you go, we’ll always be there for you.” Your eyes shifted to the illuminating lights from numerous buildings that replaced the absence of the twinkling stars in the sky. The ominous feeling soon dissipated into relief. It was as if the universe telling you, we just have to look out for the good sides instead of dwelling on the bad.

“I know.” Sungchan smiled, one that was both happy and sad. He rested his head on yours, joining your company of gazing at the scenery. “I know.”

“Just...” there was hesitation laced in your tone, Sungchan was quick to notice it as he looked at you, nodding for you to continue. “Please don’t leave...not without a goodbye. Promise me that.”

“I promise you.” Sungchan held your cold hands in his warmer ones, a firm assurance making your heart swell in both hurt and adoration as you kissed him again.

You both never really made it official, despite the kiss at the fair. It was perhaps the uncertainty that held you both back. Sungchan’s future was not in his hands but his family’s; just like his brother, he is supposed to make his family shine bright. It was one of the major reasons why his parents let both the brothers two years of freedom on their remaining bits of high school. ‘All parents want the best for their kids,’ that’s what you would always say to him whenever you meet him at his roof; him smoking while you offered his physical comfort.

The senior year passed within a whim, the fright of entering into adulthood descending upon all the students as they remained buried in their textbooks. Maybe it wasn’t the case for everyone, but it did apply to you and your friends. You remained occupied with you daily extra classes for chemistry while Sungchan had biology and Jeno had mathematics. You three would meet up in periodic breaks, catching up with small talks before returning back to your respective schedules. It was nothing but hectic, and soon, the candle shop returned back to being just another isolated shop in your hometown.

Graduation day was filled with smiles and congratulatory phrases from different individuals, throwing your grad caps in the air felt like as if you were throwing away a significant part of your life, ready to embrace a new version of you. All the parents stood their with proud grins, delighted at their children’s achievement to their dreams.

“Congratulations!” You chirped, receiving bone crushing hugs from both your males before an elderly voice called for you.

“Y/N! Jeno! Sungchan!” It was your mom, waving excitedly to grab you and the males’ attention. “Say cheese!”

“Cheese!” You all resonated together, happy and delighted.

A series of furious knocks jolted you awake from your sleep. You figured it might have been your younger brother, probably wanting your help in his homework.

“I swear to god Y/b/n!” You let out an ear piercing shout, groggily rubbing your eyes from deep slumber.

“It’s me. Jeno.” You heard how breathy his voice sounded, it was coated with urgency and hurt. You heart dropped but you prayed to the Heavens and God, you prayed that it should not be the very thing that you had been dreading so much. You shot up from your bed, not even bothering to make yourself look presentable before whipping the door open to meet with an equally dazed and riled Jeno.

“It’s Sungchan. He...” Jeno beathed out a deep sigh, before handing you a lilac envelope, the initials J.SG written in bold. You failed to feel the tears pooling up, threatening to fall anytime. Jeno glanced over you sympathetically, with shaky trembling hands, you took the the paper.

You don’t bother to closer the door, Jeno soon taking his leave as he thought it would be best to give you some space to absorb it all in. The tears had started to stream uncontrollably when you saw the picture that came with the letter. It was one of the many pictures that you took on the night of the fair; the day you had confessed, the you had your first kiss. It was a polaroid of you holding him lovingly in an embrace, him shyly placing a kiss on your cheeks with the words ‘Here lies the proof of my utmost love and affection, always devoted to my only Y/N’ scribbled on the white frame. Your hands fished for your cellphone, frantically dialing his number as you waited for him to pick up, hoping that he’ll soothe your anxiety by saying he did not leave, that he was still in town and you were just being delusional.

But every time you dialed his contact, you were being forwarded to the monotonous tone saying that the number was currently unreachable. Your chest squeezed in pain, he had promised you. He promised you that he will come for a goodbye at least. He had promised you that he would never leave you clueless and hurting. All you ever asked for him, was just a goodbye; perhaps a source assurance for you to wait for his return.

You wiped the tears with the edge of your sleeves, opening the the piece of folded paper.

‘Dear lovely Y/N,

You might resent me when you receive this letter, and I certainly don’t blame you for that. I am not the best with words, I am clumsy and unexpressive but I hope that this piece of scribblings makes you understand all my feelings, my thoughts and emotions that have been haunting me from the day I first saw you.

You know I that I am very much aware that I do....hold some handsome genes.’ You couldn’t help but snicker at this.

‘However, unlike all, as typical as it may sound, you stood out. You lazily laid sprawling across your desk in deep slumber, completely unaware of the chaos of classroom. I wish I was that carefree like you, indulged in her own world and comfort bubble. It attracted me a lot.’ You got up from the floor, eyes still glued to the piece of paper as you shut your door locked. Your hands still went to dial his contact, but only to be forwarded to that damned robotic voice.

‘I wanted to be like you, not bothered by the constant pressures of coming from a prestigious family. Did I ever tell you my dad is the Director of Myeongsu Hospital?’ You gasped at the sudden information. His dad was the director of the one of the most prestigious and renowned hospitals of South Korea. It was too overwhelming for you to process, but you still found yourself continuing.

‘It was inevitable for me to act like just another teenager, not for me but for my brother too. I always blamed him for being so selfish when he just left me alone when he came to grandma, I failed to realize that it was some sort of comfort gift from our parents so that we’ll devote ourselves to build the family’s name for the rest of our lives.

Even though I wanna blame them, I don’t think I can because they had the same fate. It comes with a price when you’re born with a silver spoon, and I guess I had to pay mine when I left your doorstep last night. I...I was a coward. I know I should have just come up, hug you and kiss you for the last time. But I just couldn’t. I was too scared.

I was scared that the moment I’ll see you, my guards will crash down. These two days were really hectic for me, I made up excuses when you invited me at yours because I was afraid of losing my balance. I knew that only a glance at you would be enough to make me change my mind and revolt against my parents, my fate. And you have no idea how much I wanted to do so, you have no idea how I’ve spent endless of sleepless night where it is the only thing that would run on my mind. But you tell me, would it be really worth it? I did not want you spending the rest of your lives with swarming paps and reporters, publishing reports and articles of how you managed to tarnish the heir-in-line of the prestigious hospital. No I could never do to that someone I love so dearly. I could never in a thousand years do that.

You know every time I picture you in your grown-up self, I can only see a strong and confident woman thriving in her career, a woman that is so powerful but still has a heart of gold. I know that you’ll be an amazing person, inside and out. I wasn’t really planning to express my love and admiration for you like this, I hoped to do it in person, but perhaps, maybe that’s how the stars planned it out for us. Fate is extra cruel in my case don’t you think?

It would be extremely selfish of me to ask you to wait; I am not even sure if I would ever return because my father would be opening another branch in US. And well, I am not sure what plans he has for me.

So please, if you ever find it in your heart, I hope you will forgive me. And even if you don’t, please don’t ever feel guilty about it. You have all the right to do so and I most certainly deserve your hatred. I love you so much, Y/N. You’re my first kiss, my first love, and you’ll always hold this irreplaceable place in my heart.

With Love,

Jung Sungchan.

You felt your world crashing down, a part of you wished that this letter never ended. The only remain from him had also come to an end, and you were not sure how you would be able to cope with his absence for the next years of your life.

Present

“Sungchan is back?” Jeno widened his eyes in shock, the information seemingly unbelievable to him. “He really is?”

“Yes.” You monotonously replied, numerous thoughts battling at the back of your head. Jaemin cleared his throat, a sign for Jeno to not bring up the topic for a while. Jeno eyed the male in confusion before finally getting the hint.

“You’re lucky you don’t get to have Mr.Suh’s classes, he’s just hot and it’s frustrating. And that’s coming from a straight dude like me.” Jeno slurped on his smoothie loud and sound, probably to annoy the other male as he was well aware his distaste to people making sounds while eating.

“Y/N.” a voiced called out from behind, and you instantly knew who it belonged to.

“Sungchan. Oh my god!” Jeno shot up from his seat, immediately embracing the old face from his past. “How have you been man? You just disappeared...”

“I am so sorry.” Sungchan looked at Jeno with pleading eyes. “I know I have absolutely no excuse for my act and I am just so sorry, Jeno and Y/N.” Sungchan looked at Jeno who silently urged him to talk to you.

“Y/N, please talk to me. I don’t expect your forgiveness but please. Atleast curse me, hit me just do anything. Please.”

You whipped your head to find Sungchan crouching down to match your seat level, a sigh escaping from you as you stood straight from your seat.

“Guys, I’ll be back.” You gripped his hands before dragging him alongside the canteen corridor.

Jaemin looked over his friend who stood staring at the way you just took. And expressionless look was painted on his features, causing Jaemin to shake his head and sigh. “You know man,” Jeno changed his attention to the male speaking, fixing his glasses. “If I were you, I would have just held her back. You’re extremely strong, I could have never done that.” With that Jaemin patted his friend’s back, a silent assurance that if he needed a shoulder to cry or to simply lean on for comfort, he’ll be there for him.

A mixture of feelings were erupting inside you, you were furious but happy. Sad but grateful. You scanned the halls for signs of any empty classroom and upon finding one you just shoved the male inside it.

“What’s so funny about messing with my feelings?” You already tears welling up, your vision blurry as you sharply glance at the male with a frown on his face.

“Y/N, I would nev-”

“You left me,” you utterly hated at how pathetic you sounded at the moment, harshly wiping the tears streaming down your cheeks. “You promised me that you won’t leave without showing up one last time, but you did. You fucking did.” You knew it was not something under his control, but you couldn’t help but pour your bottled feelings.

“Please...Y/N...listen..to me...Please..” Sungchan lost his composure, his voice breaking as he stepped closer to you. Seeing how you did not flinch at his approach, Sungchan captivated you in his embrace, something that he had been yearning for ever since he parted ways. You felt the wetness of his tears on your head, melting in his longing embrace you found yourself hugging him back. You missed him so much, his scent, warmth, presence. Everything about him drove you crazy, you were still dazed to believe if he was actually back for real or is it just one of your numerous daydreams.

The rest of the days went as usual, but only with the addition of Sungchan back again in your life. Although you had long forgiven him in his heart, you decided to not vocal it out. As heartless as it may sound, you wanted him to make up for the pain he caused you, and he indeed did. Jaemin was skeptical in the beginning at the idea of another person joining you small group, he had come to liking the idea of you guys as trio and was more comfortable like that. But he saw how your eyes lit up every time you about him when you were newly friends with Jaemin, how Jeno would always drunk talk about the times they passed as seatmates bothering the hell out of you. So Jaemin broke his exterior cold composure on the fourth day, finally accepting the banana milk from the new male as a form of bribe for his addition to the group.

Sungchan worked harder than deities; always making sure to get you Americanos before your classes, taking extra notes for you whenever you felt sick, tolerating your extremely drunk self and even dropping you back at your dorms safely. He had mentioned how he finally mustered up the courage to stand up against his fathers, that he wanted to do something else rather than working in the medical field. Even though he had still yet to decided his desired career, Sungchan decided to just follow his intuitions which ended up him taking chemistry as his major and thus landing in the same institution and same class as yours. And not to mention, he was beyond grateful for it.

A month had passed with his arrival, the awkwardness amongst everyone long gone and forgotten. It was as if he never left you. You were never over him, so his all time sweet gestures was making it harder for you to maintain your cold act.

“I happened to attempt making kimbap? But I am not sure if they are edible..” Sungchan trailed off as he hesitantly hands you the small metal box. You almost laughed at how cute but messy they looked, his failed attempt at giving the rolls eyes and lips with sesame seeds and ketchup was beyond adorable. You took the box from his grasp, a smile playing on your face as you looked at him. Sungchan upon noticing your grin, rubbed the nap of his neck shyly, his ears and cheeks mirror the shade the of the ketchup. You took a bite from one of the many rolls he made, a hum of satisfaction escaping your lips as you relished the tangy sweet taste. It was perfect, just how you preferred it.

“It’s pretty good.” You licked the stain of ketchup from your fingers, failing to notice how the male blushed harder at your subtle act. “We have Mr.Lee’s class, so I believe we should hurry up before it’s too late.”

On the night of the annual university carnival, Sungchan confessed to you. At least not in front of a public washroom this time. With the constant aid of Jeno and Jaemin, Sungchan was able to plan out a pretty dramatic confession for you. You were completely surprised when Jaemin called you out of nowhere, frantically asking for your presence to a specific classroom. You feared if the dork had committed some sort of treason explaining how dramatic he sounded, so you rushed without giving any second thoughts. However, when you saw the trail of roses with candles adorning the edges, you froze. It had the same scent both you and Sungchan had invented; the sweet scent of lily with tinges of tangerine to it.

A flustered looking Sungchan steps out from the dark, his hands rest behind his back as you cautiously scanned your face. When he saw no signs of discomfort, Sungchan slowly jogged to where you stood, his hands holding a bouquet of lilies with a small note on top of it.

“I know I have made tons of mistakes, hurt you so many times. But I still want to test my luck.” Sungchan got down on his knees, holding the bouquet with his head hanging low. “Y/L/N, will you allow me to be your man? Will you be my girlfriend?”

A shit eating grin spread on your face, slightly giggling at how adorable he looked. “I thought you’d never ask.” You took the flowers, a soft smile adorning your lips as you lock eyes with an extremely surprised Sungchan. “Of course Sungchan.”

“Of course? For real?” Sungchan couldn’t believe what just happened, he was half expecting you to flat out reject him at how inconsiderate he had been. But you accepted his apology, accepted his love. Sungchan stood up, his heart squeezing in delight and adoration for you. He cupped your face gently, as if you were a porcelain doll that would just break if not handled carefully. You saw how his eyes shone with love, sparkling brightly on the soft light from the lighted candles and you swore you never felt so much before for anyone else as much as you felt for him. Sungchan closed the proximity, his nose slight touching yours as he rested his forehead against yours, the smiling never for once leaving his face.

The tension was building up with each passing second, the sounds of your heavy breathing being the only silence breaker. You got impatient, the feeling of his lush lips got you being greedy as you closed the distance standing on your tip-toes, momentarily catching him off the grid before receiving the same attention back. You gripped on his shirt, too unbothered to break the kiss despite losing your breath. He paused for a moment, panting before pulling you back under his spell. The bottled feelings and emotions of longing and pining for each other were poured into the this sweet shared moment of yours. You were grateful that the whole building had no signs of any lurking students and professors, what was supposed to be a innocent make-up kiss soon transformed into a heated one as he held you by your waist, pinning you against the wall with his lips still attached to yours.

You pulled back for the heavy make-out session, almost earning a whine from the male before you soothed him with you words that came next. “I love you.”

Sungchan felt his already beating heart pick up its pace, becoming hastier that he was low-key afraid if he might face a stroke anytime. With a loving grin, he looked back at you who was still caged in his arms. He tucked the stray of hair brushing across the sides of your face from the soft breeze entering the windows, the illuminating yellow hues from the candles making you look like a dream. A dream that seemed unattainable to him until this very moment.

“I love you so so much. Thank you. Thank you for giving me a chance to prove myself, to allow me to show you my feelings, Y/N.” He was breathless, he felt so many emotions at that moment when you glanced at him loving. He was afraid his pulse might stop any moment, so he kissed you back, but now filled with passion and desire. And let’s just say, one of your fantasies were fulfilled that night.

The news of his grandma passing away came after a few months when you both had officially started dating. Both the Jungs were extremely close to her, so when Jaehyun took her back to Myeongsu Hospital where he was currently the chief of neurology, her condition was inevitable. Jaehyun hoped that maybe she might get to spend more time on earth under his care, but he too was victim in the cruel hands of destiny. Sungchan rushed to your dorm, bloodshot eyes as he told you the news. You found yourself sobbing alongside him, tenderly keeping him embraced in your warmth as you shared his pain. You knew her personally as well, all the moments spent with her were a profound favorite part of teen years.

“I wanted to meet you before I leave for Seoul. I came to say a goodbye.” Sungchan sniffed, his hands wiping away the streams of water rolling down your face. You smiled at his concern, mimicking his actions you brushed his sweaty bangs away from his forehead before placing a soft peck against it.

“It’s okay. Don’t tell me goodbyes anymore...for I know you’ll always come back to me.”

Epilogue

Sungchan fumbled with his tie nervously, bile reaching up his throat as the worst scenarios flooded his brains. His eyes frantically looked around for help, making a bow-tie was just not his cup of his. A breath of relief escapes his lips when his eyes landed on his closest beloved friend Jeno. Jeno stood leaning against the door frame, an amused grin painting his sharp features as he walked to the struggling male.

“Bro...” Sungchan huffed pleadingly, a pout forming his eyes.

“Yes bro.” Jeno flashed him an eye roll, before having the same eye smile again as he fixed his friend’s tie. After all, it was a big event for him.

To say the least, you looked breathtaking in your white laced gown. The simplicity of the dress made you look more elegant, it enhanced your natural beauty and Sungchan couldn’t just tear his eyes away from your form. It was supposed to be the bride’s day, but to him you shone the brightest.

“You know it’s me getting married, but the new comers might assume it’s you considering how you are gaping at y/n shamelessly.” Jaehyun hissed to his best man, earning a scoff from Sungchan.

“Hyung, let me have my moment! Please.” Sungchan whined but was careful to tone it down, only to receive a slight nudge from the groom who chuckled at his antics.

The wedding was glamorous, elegant, anything that could be named as a dream wedding. Sungchan remained glued beside you the whole night, a proud grin on his face every time he was asked about the lady whose arms laid locked with his. With a smug look, he would rub on their faces that you were his girlfriend, especially exaggerating to the males who seemed to had their eyes on you. You both enjoyed the silent company of each other, the soothing sounds of the wind replacing the absence of music as Sungchan drove you back to your place, hands still intertwined. When he came in front of your shared apartment, he fidgeted in his seat nervously; fishing out something from his coat.

You figured it was another one of his endless gifts, so you just smiled with your back resting against the cushion seat of the car.

“Sungchan, you really need to-”

A throat seering stopped you in the midst of speaking, your eyes widening when you realized what the purple velvet box might contain. Sungchan let out breaths of nervousness, blowing out some air out of his lungs to lessen the feeling of anxiety as he looked at you, eyes as genuine as ever.

“Y/N, I don’t believe in fancy proposals as you know. It is an intimate moment for us so I want it to happen in the presence of only us.” Sungchan stuttered in the middle as he opened the box, revealing an extremely gorgeous but simple plated band with a small stone adorning the top perfectly.

“So will you marry me?”

You stared at the male dumbfounded. Your eyes refused to believe the scene in front of you, hearts doing numerous flips and turns and it was just hard to explain all the feelings you were feeling. Sungchan had always been the one for you, and even though not everyone gets to have a happy ending with their first love, you were beyond grateful that you had happened to fall in the rare probability.

“I...OF COURSE. OF COURSE I WILL.” You yelped in delight, shoving your hand in front of his face as he just laughed while placing the ring on your finger. It fit perfectly. You grabbed him by the collar and kissed him with your overpowering passion and love, not realizing how if continued any longer, you guys might have to pay a fine for parking on the wrong side. So without wasting any time further, you both hauled yourselves to your apartment, refusing to break the contact of your lips molded perfectly together on your way. In short, let’s just say ‘sweet innocent kiss transformed into a heated one’ yet again.

I went completely overboard with this. I am so sorry if it didn’t turn up as you had expected it to, and honestly I am not completely pleased with it either. I felt like it could’ve been better in terms of expressing emotions. However, improvement is a never ending proccess and im still learning. SO TO WHOEVER WHO HAPPENED TO MAKE THIS TILL HERE. I LOVE YOU SODIJMS YOU DONT KNOW HOW MUCH IT MEANS TO ME.

Feedbacks and criticisms are always appreciated! Please care to leave them as it may help me potentially grow as a writer. Thank you for sparing your time to read my piece of work.

with love,

Hana.

171 notes · View notes

shotofire · 3 years

Note

hello ! hru ? plz if you dont mind, levi ackerman x reader (modern) doing to him "wipe away kisses prank", they're watching tv, his girlfriend kiss his lips then wipe it away acting like nothing happend xd thank you take care of yourself 🖤🖤

Hi!!! I’m great! Awe this is such a cute idea! and i’ve been wanting to write a modern fic. thank you so much for requesting my sweet! <3 you take care of yourself as well :p I sorta changed up the prank part a bit but it’s the same concept, I hope you enjoy.

•MODERN!LEVI x F!READER

•Warnings: cursing here and there, very very very slight mentions of smut

•Season: Not set within the show

Levi Ackerman wasn’t big on affection. So when he starting dating (y/n) it was a huge surprise for everyone. She had to be the most touchy person on the face of the Earth. Hugging people was a hobby of hers, and she liked to poke peoples sides for the fun of it.

The first time he’d met her was at a gathering Hanji had dragged him to with a few friends. The last thing he wanted to have to do was make small talk with some people he worked with. He was taken aback when a girl he’d never seen before was coming up to him with a sweet smile and arms open wide.

It was obvious that Levi acted different around her. Someone would do something little as put their arm around his shoulder and he’d flinch away. Then someone like her wrapped their arms around his middle and Hanji literally gasped out loud when he hugged (y/n) back.

After months went by of him seeing her at friend events, he asked her out on a proper date. The man hasn’t dated since he was in his early twenties so this was a game changer for him. No one saw the pair getting together, they were polar opposite.

That’s why Levi took such a liking to the women. She was nothing like him and it kept him interested. Everything she did was out of the kindness of her heart, and she was very into speaking her mind. Levi usually just said a simple sentence that was somewhat insulting and went about his day.

(y/n) on the other gave entire speeches of exactly what she was thinking, and wasn’t scared to call somebody out. He admired how big she was on helping anyone that she could. He didn’t even have to worry if the kindness was an anterior motive, he knew she didn’t like seeing people down.

“Are you judging me?” She had asked one day at a table full of their closest friends.

His eyes had narrowed at her question. They hadn’t talked very much at this point, but it was the moment that really drew Levi in. He looked around at everyone else at the table and they were already snickering under their breaths. The whole group thought he found her annoying but it was the complete opposite.

Everything she did had him in a trance. She kept him entertained with everything she said, but it’s understandable why she felt he had a disliking for her. The man never talked unless spoke too, but that was just how he worked. Though (y/n) took it rather personally because she found herself easy to talk to, and she’d never met someone so observant and quiet.

“No, if I did i’d make it obvious,” he had answered with his arms crossed.

She smiled at his words. In a way she found them sweet instead of rude. She was one of the few people who could understand his real meaning behind his words.

“Good,” she said proudly, “cause I would hate for a cutie like you to find me annoying.”

Levi’s mouth had fallen open at her words. Never in his life had someone called him a cutie, maybe when he was a child but not anytime in his adult life. The way her eyes sparkled as she watched his flustered reaction made him realize he liked this girl a lot. That was the night he’d first asked her on a date, and things escalated from there.

(y/n) was different and he liked it. Most people didn’t say straightforward things to him because they were scared for his reaction. But she wasn’t in anyway frightened by him. She actually found it kind of funny that the group find him so scary at times. Sure she could admit his gaze would be rather intimidating at times but that’s the worst it got to her.

He first took her out to eat at a sushi place and she literally squealed when they walked in the door. He couldn’t even hold back the laughter at her excitement, and that was the fist time she had heard his sweet laugh. She’d seen him smile plenty of time, but the fact she got him to go further than that only boosted her confidence.

They had sat there for hours talking about the most random things. (y/n) had never heard Levi spill so much information at once and she was absolutely living for it. She still couldn’t believe the quiet mystery guy of her friend group found interest in her.

“Did you know your quietness makes you more intriguing to me,” she had said with a blush on her cheeks, “It makes me want to get to know you more than anyone i’ve ever met.”

He nervously chuckled at her words and took another bite of sushi. That was the first time in the night he had kinda gone quiet. She began to worry she’d embarrassed him somehow and started to think too much. He noticed her manner change pretty quickly.

“I’m glad i’m interesting to you, no ones ever been interested in me,” he had said with a quiet voice.

She smiled softly, “You’re too pretty to not be interested in.”

That was the first day she had seen Levi blush so hard. She was also the first person to call him pretty. He had nervously ran his fingers through his hair with a slight chuckle. This women truly was something else and he found peace in her mannerism. He liked the way he felt when he was with her, and he had no plan on letting her go.

“You’re gorgeous,” he’d said on their next date which was a picnic.

It was (y/n)’s idea of course, she wanted to do something different. She told him she already had an idea for another date if he was interested, and of course he was. She smiled brightly at his words, even though she had just taken a bite of her sandwich. The sweet moment made her wonder what their friend group would say about this alternative Levi they had yet to meet.

After a few more weeks he’d invited her to his apartment. There was no alternate motive behind the invite, he just wanted to cook for her. She had told him many times she was a ‘slut for spaghetti,’ which made him laugh harder than he had in years. When he told her he wanted to make her food she absolutely insisted that she get the pleasure of watching.

He didn’t expect her to ask something like that but she was persistent with the question so he allowed it. She’d asked about a million questions as he made it, and everyone who knew him would be surprised to know he found joy in her constant talking. He was so used to silence, but her sweet voice always filled the air and made him feel whole.

When (y/n) had literally moaned as she took a bite of the spaghetti his stomach did a flip. The sound was beautiful and he thought about the day he’d get to hear it over and over again. Though, Levi was in no rush whatsoever. He was an extremely patient man and valued taking things slow. The two had been seeing one another for almost three months now and the most that had happened is hand holding and cuddling.

After dinner (y/n) suggested a movie. Of course she insisted on something romantic, she valued the cliche of it. Levi agreed but wasn’t as excited as she was. But seeing her eyes light up as he said yes was way better than any movie they could watch.

Now Levi sat on the couch with (y/n)’s arms wrapped around his waist and head on his lap. The sight was very heartwarming and he wanted to take a picture of how beautiful she looked, but he decided not too. Sure she had taken many pictures of him and with him but he was still scared she’d find it weird.

She felt his eyes on her and moved her hands from around him so she could lay flat on her back. She raised an eyebrow at him and smirked.

“Do you find me better to watch than the movie?”

A shock ran through him at your straightforward question. She always did things like this to him on purpose. Making his stern self flustered had to be one of her greatest powers. She reaches up to touch his soft hair and he shivers slightly from her cold hand.

The room fell silent and the air began to change. (y/n) gulped at the the feeling and turned her attention back to the movie, acting as if nothing had just happened. He frowned when she did this. Did she not want to kiss him?

That wasn’t the case, though. She wanted to kiss him more than anything. Hell, she wanted to do a lot of things with him. One would think she was straight forward in every department, but not when it comes to kissing. The last time she kissed someone her tooth went into their lip on accident and embarrassed the hell out of her.

She felt Levi’s body become sluggish when she turned away. In that moment (y/n) decided to get over her fear. After all he was different, they had a whole different story line. Her last failed hookup wasn’t anything compared to the bond her and Levi had created.

(y/n) sat up quickly and Levi almost jumped at her sudden action. He turned his head to look at her, and was about to ask what the matter was, but her lips were already being pressed against his. Warmness filled both of their bodies and the softness of her lips were addicting. But as soon as it started, it ended.

He almost whined when she pulled away, then her hand dragged across his lips, and he was beyond confused. Her attention was turned back to the television as if nothing had happened. As if they didn’t just kiss for the first time and she hadn’t just tried to wipe it away.

“Why did you just do that?” he asked confused, but he couldn’t help but smile a bit at her. She was hard to figure out and understand sometimes, but this was different. Was she embarrassed?

“Do what? I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she said without even looking at him.

The man had never seen her act this way. He found it funny honestly. (y/n) had never been afraid or reluctant to do something. He guessed he had found her weak spot.

“Oh yes you do,” he said with a laugh, “you think wiping away the kiss is gonna change something? Cause I still want to kiss you again.”

She gulped at his words, “really?”

Levi had never seen her so flustered and red faced. She was an absolute mess of nerves right now and he loved it. He had no idea he could have this type of effect on her. She did everything with confidence and zero fear yet a simple kiss had her second guessing everything.

“Really,” he whispers, and this time she’s the one who’s stomach flips.

His lips reattached to hers and she melts at his touch. Lips move against one another softly and slowly, enough to make her head spin. Delicate fingers squeeze at her waist and she makes a slight noise at the feeling.

That’s when Levi grabs her hips and pulls her on top of him, and the once sweet kiss begins to intensify.

Kissing Levi was already becoming one of her favorite things to do, and they were just getting started.

394 notes · View notes

jeonsjiddies · 4 years

Text

apodyopsis (m) | jjk

summary- apodyopsis (n.) ; the act of mentally undressing someone

alternatively, Jungkook is a nude model in your art class

rating- explicit / 18+ word count- 12k pairing- jungkook x reader genre- smut Warnings- daddy kink, slight degrading?, mild health concerns, very light bdsm?, masturbation, oral (female and male receiving), rough sex, kind of dom!jungkook, a little name calling?, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it bb)

a/n: our lovechild is born! We worked so hard on this, we hope you love it as much as we do. Currently thanking my lucky stars that @blkjmn agreed to collab with me, and that she saved my life with that glorious sex scene because I can’t seem to stop writing mushy fluffy smut. I love you so much thank you for being by my side and co-writing this with me. <3

“There’s one last thing we need to discuss before you are signed, Mr. Jeon. Do we need to backtrack for a moment to review, or shall we continue on?” The business contractor asked, using his thumb and index finger to push his glasses up further onto his nose bridge.

Jungkook wasn’t registering a single word that left the man’s mouth. His eyes were glued to the fine print on the page that described the job he’d be keeping for likely most of his (young adult) life, or at least until he was able to successfully rid himself of the guilt that's been resting on his broad shoulders for the last ten years.

He would never be able to forget the way his mother’s face fell every time he was discharged from the hospital. Not only did she have no answers and a still sick child to take home, but she also had a weighty hospital bill to add to the others that she received about once a month. She worked her ass off to take care of him as best she could, even with the gigantic debt she kept under her belt for the entirety of his childhood.

All of this was hidden from Jungkook until he was told he had celiac disease at the age of ten. His symptoms had gotten worse the longer his condition remained unnoticed, even though he would complain to his mother of constant pain everyday, tearful eyes locking with hers as if begging for her to give him any sort of relief.

“Mommy, my stomach hurts!”

“I’m not hungry! It makes it worse to eat!”

“Can you please make it stop, mama?”

He cringes every time he thinks about what he must’ve put his mother through as a child, and how she always managed to push a smile even though she was fighting to make ends meet.

Even after all of that, he was hesitating on signing this contract because he was too shy? Bullshit. He’d be selfish if he were to deny this opportunity because of his underlying fear of being seen naked in front of a large audience of people.

He knew he had no real reason to be afraid, though. After constant teasing in school for being extremely thin due to his illness, he built up the courage to get himself a gym membership when his condition became less overbearing.

He ate more often, built up more muscle, and managed to become more confident in himself and his abilities.

So, what did he have to be nervous for?

Jungkook no longer had any issues with stripping himself down. His body was sculpted perfectly, and he had a massive dick to accompany the figure he had worked for so many years towards.

Sure, everything was all set for him, but not for his mom. Jungkook knew that she barely managed to make her rent last month.

He needed to sign this contract.

“Mr. Jeon?” Jungkok’s glossy eyes were blown wide. He hadn’t moved an inch in the past minute.

“Mr. Jeon…” The man rolled his eyes, obviously knowing that it would take a bit more than calling the young man’s name to get him out of whatever trance he’d put himself in. He slammed his fist down onto the table, and Jungkook’s eyes crossed for a moment before he jolted to his senses.

He cleared his throat, and immediately began sputtering apologies.

“I-I’m so sorry. I’m not quite sure what came over me, I-” The contractor held his hand up, effectively silencing the boy as he picked up the pen that sat to the right of him while offering it to Jungkook with a raised brow.

“If this is something that you are not going to take seriously, then you may escort yourself out of my office. If you’d like to begin your career in this field, then take this pen and sign this contract.” Jungkook didn’t hesitate in grabbing the pen from the man, immediately apologizing for the way he snatched it out of his grasp.

He gnawed on his bottom lip, eyes scanning over the words on the thin paper as if he hadn’t been in this chair reviewing them for the past three hours.

This job paid well, and he had nothing to risk.

Except for the probable denial of any office job he’d try to apply to.

Why would he want an office job anyway?

Probably because--

“Any day now, Mr. Jeon.” He cast an annoyed glance toward the man. Couldn’t he see that he was contemplating on signing the damn thing?

He sighed, stretched his neck from side to side, and lifted the pen to the paper with a shaking hand.

The moment he finished signing, the crumpled sheet was ripped from under his fingertips, and tucked away into the desk of who Jungkook really hoped wouldn’t be his boss.

“It’s nice to have you along, kid.” Jungkook smiled nervously.

“You’ve got a great look, but of course, nude modeling is about what’s under the clothes.” His face instantly began to pale as he gripped the armrests of the chair he sat in.

Was this old dude asking to see him naked? Right now?

“You can step inside of the bathroom behind me to change. There should be a robe hanging on the door. Put it on, meet me outside, and we’ll take a few pictures for your portfolio.”

Jungkook sat still in the chair, staring at the man across from him with those adorable eyes widened in slight panic.

He was trying to pull himself up so he wouldn’t look like a fumbling idiot, but he couldn’t move a limb.

There was no turning back now, and he was fully aware of that.

“Am I… am I supposed to be naked for the f-first photo shoot?” Jungkook asked, his voice weak.

The contractor raised an eyebrow. It was normal for newcomers to be nervous, but he couldn’t understand why it was so difficult for him to follow directions.

In due time, he supposed.

“No, Jungkook.” The contractor sighed, pressing his thumb and middle finger against his temples in distress. Jungkook noted that this was the first time the man had addressed him formally as well, so it was probably in his best interest to go get changed if he didn’t want to get fired before he officially started the job.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He said, standing from the chair as he looked over the contractor’s shoulder to the bathroom. It seemed to be decently sized, and he could really use some time alone to get his nerves settled before he had to… well, pose naked for the camera.

Well, not naked. Not this time. That’s what the contractor said.

He looked toward the man one last time, before he began pushing himself in the direction of the bathroom. Upon approaching it, he could pick up the smell of lavender coming from the candles that were lit inside.

He opened the door, and immediately turned around to close and lock it.

He checked to make sure the door was locked before he pulled his shirt over his head and carefully pulled each of his shoes off.

He checked once more as he unbuckled his pants.

He checked one final time as he threw his belt to the floor.

Jungkook slid his thumbs in between his hips and the fabric of the jeans as he tugged them down toward the ground. He had no issue with this as of yet, seeing as he was still in his boxers.

He pressed his body up against the wall, giving himself something to lean up against as he took his jeans off and threw them toward the pile of his clothes he created on the floor.

The boxers were all that were left.

“Come on, man.” He whispered to himself, glaring at his reflection in the mirror as he began to get annoyed at his own anxiousness.

It was just a couple of pictures, and he’d be covered by a robe. He was acting like a wreck for no reason.

He closed his eyes and yanked the boxers down in one swift motion, knowing that if he hesitated, he probably would’ve just left them on.

Jungkook shivered as the cold air went straight to his dick, and he almost knocked one of the candles over and sent the bathroom up into flames as he lunged for the robe that was near the door.

It was soft and fluffy, and it also carried the faint scent of the lavender that engulfed his senses. It was warm as well, like a heated towel.

Maybe this wasn’t so bad, then.

He noticed that there were a pair of flimsy sandals sitting near the door as he prepared to leave. He was never told to put them on, or to mess with them at all, but he’d rather not walk around with his bare feet, so he slid them on anyway.

He checked his reflection once more, adjusting the robe a bit so it hung loosely around his waist, and so more of his chest could be exposed.

Sure, he was nervous, but that didn’t mean that he wasn’t going to put on a good show.

He ran his hands down his sides, purposely brushing them over his cock as he considered giving it a few quick pumps before he made his way outside.

That’d be sure to leave a great first impression, which was what he was going for, but it’d be obvious that he was touching himself because his face would blush bright red.

He reached down to grab his clothes, folding them somewhat neatly. He grabbed his shoes and sat them on top of the stack of clothes he’d made.

Worry began to bubble in his stomach once he stepped out of the bathroom to find himself alone in the large office room, but he quickly remembered that he was told to meet the guy outside.

He hummed a small tune as he took quick steps toward the office door, placing his large hand upon the knob and opening it slowly, just in case his boss (Jungkook decided to assume that’s who this man was going to become. It’s better to wish for the worst anyway, right?) was right in front of the door.

Once he didn’t feel any force being pressed against the door, he opened it carefully and shimmied his way out of the office. He pressed his back against it to close it, and this small action caught the attention of his boss, who was sitting on a small bench a few feet away from the office.

“Great! You’re all changed.” The man smiled gently at him, clapping his hands together as he stood up and quickly approached Jungkook.

Jungkook stumbled back a few steps, confused by this sudden change of behavior. Was it because he was finally complying, or was it because he was about to be used for profit?

Either way, he didn’t mind. It’d be a hell of a lot easier to work in a less stressful environment, so he’d take what he could get.

“Uh, yeah… I wasn’t sure of where to put my clothes,” Jungkook began, holding up his clothes as he spoke, “so I decided to—“

“Ah, thank you for the reminder!” The man spoke, retreating back toward the bench he sat on to fetch an unmarked black bookbag from behind it.

He handed it to Jungkook, who took it thankfully and with a small smile.

“When do I return this to you?” Jungkook asked, not bothering to look toward his boss as he spoke as he was busy stuffing his belongings into the bag.

“It’s yours to keep, son.” Jungkook closed the bag and stood up, tossing it lazily over one of his shoulders as he raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“Oh, thank you so much.” He smiled sincerely. He was especially thankful that it was unmarked, because if he were to wear the bag out in public, he’d hate for someone to actually read the company name and google it, only to find pictures of him covered with only a robe on the home page.

He shivered at the thought.

“The studio is actually on this floor, so we haven’t got far of a walk at all.” His boss began to walk, and Jungkook followed a few feet behind him as he began to survey his surroundings at each turn they took.

“Now, there will be a handful of people in this room with you. Other models, photographers, of course, lighting specialists, stylists, and a few possible employers.” Jungkook hummed as the man spoke, ignoring every word that was coming out of his mouth as his heart began to thud loudly in his chest.

He didn’t need this explanation, anyway. The average person knows a little something about how a photo shoot works.

Even though he was a considerable distance away from his boss, he was almost sure that he could hear the thudding in his chest.

“Every single one of the people waiting in this room are going to do their best to make you look good, so there’s no need to worry. Relax, and you focus on making the company look good.” He laughed throatily, and Jungkook laughed stiffly from behind him.

‘Make the company look good my ass,’ Jungkook thought.

He rolled his eyes, almost crashing directly into the short man in front of him as they abruptly stopped at a door tucked away into the corner of the hallway they were on.

“This is it. Do you have anything else to ask of me?” Jungkook hurriedly said no, his nerves being replaced by the excitement to show himself off a bit.

“Alright.” The man nodded once before he opened the door, and once again, Jungkook was slapped in the dick with a blast of cold air.

He raised his eyebrows in interest as he surveyed the few models that were scattered about the different sets that were spread apart in the room. One set was sexy and seductive, dripping in elements of crimson and black, another was a bit more fun, which used orange and yellow to contrast against the white, and Jungkook couldn’t even conjure up the words to describe the other sets.

He continued to watch the models pose as if this was natural for them, flinching every now and then at the bright light that would flash every time a picture was taken.

He also noted that all of the models were nude.

They seemed to be masters of their talents, so maybe Jungkook got to leave the robe on because he was an amateur?

“Shit.” Jungkook cursed under his breath. Another cool draft of wind ran through the room, and he scurried to look down and pull the robe over his thighs.

Jungkook heaved a sigh of relief once he successfully covered himself, and his boss quickly strolled over to him to grab the bag off of his shoulder. Jungkook immediately looked over to ask him what he was doing, but before he got the chance, he was being whisked away by a manicured hand.

Everything moved quickly, but this should’ve been what Jungkook was expecting. This wasn’t just about his money.

He was thrown onto a couch near the center of the room, which was white just like the walls.

As soon as his ass touched the couch cushions, there were at least four people crowding over him to add some blush to his cheeks, and add some hairspray to his hair.

He was startled, but he didn’t mind the chaotic environment. It reminded him very much of the hospital he frequented when he was younger, and the thought of him finally being able to help his mom out after so long brought a smile to his face.

After the clutter of bodies went away, Jungkook was left alone on the couch with a camera pointed directly at him.

He gulped, his mouth suddenly dry.

The man behind the camera snapped a few shots of Jungkook to test the quality of the photos, and once he was pleased with what he saw, he stared expectantly at Jungkook with a raised brow.

“Uh…” Jungkook began.

“Take your robe off.” He stated bluntly. Jungkook choked, and immediately looked to where he saw his boss last, but he was nowhere to be found.

That fucker.

“I—I thought that I—“

“You may want to be quick about it, too. Time is money, and the more pictures we take of you, the better your chances are at being promoted.” Jungkook sighed.

If there was one thing he needed, it was money.

Hell, that’s what he got the job for.

He slowly brought his hands down to the sash that was holding the robe together and undid it, tossing it next to him on the couch.

He smirked lightly when he heard a few of the women standing behind the photographer gasp, quickly scanning every one of their faces to see their shocked expressions.

Jungkook could read the women easily. They all bit their lips, winked, or waved flirtatiously as he made eye contact with them, except for one woman.

She smiled teasingly at him, although she was seemingly unimpressed with his level of confidence. She raised an eyebrow tauntingly, pretending as if she didn’t understand why everyone was reacting as if they’d never seen a penis before. Though her cool exterior radiated disinterest, Jungkook could see past her facade, her eyes gave everything away. He could see the desire in her y/e/c irises. Jungkook understood, he felt it too.

Jungkook returned the smile, oddly at ease by her presence. He absentmindedly licked his lips as he raked his eyes up and down the curves of her figure.

She wore a long sleeved shirt that hugged her frame perfectly, a tight skirt that rested a few inches above her knees, and a pair of black heels that made her legs look absolutely stunning from where Jungkook was sitting.

He was sure they’d still look delicious if he were to take a closer look, which he wouldn’t mind in the slightest.

His mind wandered, images of her naked body flashing behind his eyelids. He lost himself in his daydreams of kissing up her legs while she squirmed underneath him.

What the hell is wrong with him? He was made to be the one receiving suggestive glances, but here he was, blatantly checking out the cute girl that was just trying to make him comfortable.

The girl broke eye contact with him, and he immediately looked away as well, squirming slightly in his seat as he felt his cock harden between his legs.

He made no effort to hide it, but he did close his legs a bit to make it less obvious.

He did not just get a boner because he made eye contact with a pretty girl.

Well, on the bright side, he didn’t have to worry about getting himself hard in the bathroom.

He glanced over in the lady’s direction once more, pouting once he noticed that she was no longer paying any attention to him, instead scribbling something down on a notepad she held in her small hands.

Why did he want her attention so bad?

“Alright,” The photographer began, bringing Jungkook back down to earth, “Keep it natural. The more relaxed you feel, the better your photos will turn out.” Jungkook nodded, a bit more eager than he should’ve been to begin his first session.

“Perfect!” The photographer yelled, snapping one last photo of Jungkook before he closed the lens of his camera and began to pack up his equipment.

Most of the other models and workers filed out already, and Jungkook was overly thankful that it would be his turn to leave this room next.

Jungkook thought the shoot went very well, as it was very easy for him to… keep himself encouraged throughout, thanks to that pretty lady.

He relaxed from his position, in which he was leaned forward, his elbows propped onto his knees as he smirked cockily at the camera.

He wasn’t sure of what to do just yet, waiting for his liar of a boss to make himself shown again.

Especially considering that the man had his clothes and shoes.

Jungkook sighed and closed his eyes, pressing his back into the couch as he breathed in and out slowly. He continued like this for a few moments, until he could hear heels tapping against the floor in his direction.

He opened one of his eyes, taking a peek at who was walking toward him.

Jungkook immediately sat up upon noticing that it was the woman with the sexy legs that kept his dick hard through the entirety of his shoot.

She approached him with a friendly smile, and Jungkook returned her sincerity with a smile of his own.

“Could I take a seat?” She motioned toward the empty spot on the couch next to him. Jungkook nodded once.

“Of course.” He moved over a bit, his cock swinging against his inner thigh as he did so.

It was then that he realized that he was absolutely naked still, so he grabbed the robe that laid over the arm of the couch and threw it on, as if the woman hadn’t already seen everything he had to offer— and more.

“Thank you!” She smiled at him. ”I’m Y/N.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Y/N. I’m Jungkook.” She chuckled at this. Jungkook was confused as to what she found funny, maybe his name?

He gripped the robe between his fingers, nervously running the pads of them over the soft material as he pondered over what could’ve made the tempting woman in front of him giggle so sweetly.

“Why’re you laughing?” She noticed his nerves return, a knowing smirk on her lips as she watched the way he shyly avoided eye contact with her.

“I already know who you are, Mr. Jeon.” She tossed her hair over her shoulder. It’s almost as if she knew she was enticing.

“You did some great work today, you know?” She flashed him an adorable smile again.

It was something about the way that ‘Mr. Jeon’ rolled off of her tongue that was driving Jungkook up the wall.

“Look, I know this may seem a bit forward, but you radiate great potential.” Jungkook nodded, thanking her quietly, as she pulled out that notepad that she was scribbling in when she was too busy to give him attention while he was posing sexily.

“I conduct an art class at a community center, and I’d love it if you were to drop by and model for me a bit, since you’ve gotten the swing of things fairly quickly.” She giggled, as she ripped out the page from the small book and handed it to him gently.

“Please, feel free to decline if you’re uncomfortable, but if you’d like to give it a try then give me a call.” She eyed him carefully as he picked up the paper and read over it.

“That’s my personal number, so you can call me whenever you’d like.” Something about that sentence put an image into Jungkook’s head.

“Alright, I’ll get out of your hair now.” She stood up, collecting her belongings as she did so.

“If I never run into you again, then it’s been a pleasure, Jungkook.” She proceeded to walk away, leaving him on the couch alone.

Jungkook lingered just outside the door of the art room, his stomach twisting with nerves. When he’d first been approached about modeling, he’d laughed it off. It started off with easy stuff, brand deals and commercial advertisements. How did he end up here? Posing nude in front of a group of strangers to pick apart his body for their art? This was the best paying gig he’d ever been presented with… the small advertising gigs had been a couple hundred at best but this one would put a sizable dent in his mother’s debt, easing her misfortune. Jungkook had to do this. For her.

He held his head high and strolled into the room with a confident air, any trace of his uneasiness washed away. He glanced around at the unfamiliar faces, carefully watching his every move. He smiled in a greeting, until his eyes landed on you. His face lit up at seeing your familiar face and your heart clenched at the sight. Should Jungkook have found comfort in your deceptively soft eyes? No. Did he? Absolutely. Your sharp tongue didn’t phase him too badly, not when he could see the tenderness in your eyes.

“Good morning, Mr. Jeon.” you smiled, extending your hand in an invitation.

Jungkook reached out, enveloping your small hand in his own larger one, shaking it professionally. He reveled at how soft your skin was.

“Good morning, Ms. Y/L/N.” he greeted. “Good morning, everyone.” he addressed the rest of the room. “Please call me Jungkook.”

“Alright. Jungkook here is going to be our model. Long gone are the days of fruit baskets. Here is where the fun begins.” you smirked, sending a raised eyebrow Jungkook’s way.

In spite of himself, Jungkook blushed under your suggestive gaze.

“Now, don’t forget that this is for art.” you emphasized. “The human body is a work of art and I expect you to treat it as such. Take this seriously. Okay?”

Most heads nodded automatically, a few older women rolled their eyes or stole looks from each other, mocking you. You were placing a young, muscular man in front of them without clothes. How did you expect them not to ogle?

“For this particular piece, we’re going to be exploring how to use charcoal to get those little details. Don’t forget your shading!” you chimed happily. “Ready, Jungkook?”

“I think so.” he smiled.

“Show us what you got.” you grinned, stepping back and sitting at your own easel.

Jungkook’s hands trembled a bit as he unbuttoned his shirt, trying his best to 1. Not look like a total basket case and 2. Not make it super sensual. Deft fingers worked their way down his shirt and soon the material was sliding off his body in a way he felt was unceremoniously, but judging from the mouths hanging open around the room, might’ve been a bit more enticing than he’d intended.

Jungkook’s chest was absolutely flawless, in your opinion. You were one of the few who managed to keep your tongue inside your mouth for the show, but that didn’t stop your eyes from wandering over his toned physique. Sure you’d seen him at his photography shoot, but he was wearing a robe and you were trying to be professional. Now, hidden behind your easel, you were free to really take him in.

His chiseled chest, the deep ridges of his toned abs, the smoothness of his skin, the light dusting of hair that teased its way under his jeans. He was a walking wet dream. Your mouth watered as your gaze followed the lines of his V. Jungkook popped open the button of his jeans, tugging the zipper down as well. You’d never been so entranced by a simple movement in your life. The man radiated sexual energy.

He shimmied his hips free of the denim, his every movement captivating his audience. Firm hip bones, luscious thick thighs, deliciously tanned skin were all slowly revealed as he tugged the jeans off in one fluid motion. Maybe he should be a stripper instead of a model… You shook the thought away, but it lingered. Jungkooks movements faltered for a moment, his eyes seeking yours for comfort. You smiled reassuringly at him, and that was all he needed to tug his boxers over his delicious thighs and let his glorious cock free.

“Holy shit.” you heard from somewhere behind you.

“He reminds me of a lover I once had in Prague. I’d sneak him into my hotel room and we’d make love until the sun came up. I miss being young.”

Jungkook coughed and brought his arm up to cover the flush spreading across his cheeks at the older woman’s inappropriate comment. You bit back a laugh.

“Alright Jungkook, just make yourself comfortable and we’ll start drawing you, okay?” you instructed, attempting to take his mind off of the earlier comment.

“Okay.” he nodded, settling himself on the stool you’d set out for him, resisting the urge to strike a pose he knew he wouldn’t be able to hold.

The room grew quiet save for the scratch of charcoal on canvas as the class began attempting to do justice to Jungkook’s beauty in their renditions of him. You began by tracing an outline of his body, opting not to attempt any details yet. The pink tint that rested upon the apple of your cheeks was hard to ignore, and you weren’t sure you could handle trying to get details of certain areas just yet.

You did your best to ignore the effect Jungkook’s naked body was having on your own fully clothed one. He was ethereal, beautiful, the kind of man you could lose yourself in. He had charisma, a way about him that just drew people in. Or maybe it was just you. Every time your eyes locked with his, it was like he was the only thing you could focus on. Everything else was obsolete.

Jungkook held a power over you that honestly scared you a little, and he didn’t even know he did. He didn’t understand how magnetic he was. Sure, he was sexy and he knew it. He’d obviously spent hours painstakingly sculpting his body to perfection, but it wasn’t even just his flawless physique, it wasn’t just his gorgeous, greek-god-like face. His power was inside of him, his strength, his determination, that spark in his gaze.

Jungkook was different from the rest, whether he realized it or not. He was special. Everything about him invited you in and coaxed you to give all of yourself to him. You couldn’t stop your thoughts from wondering as you lazily sketched the outline of him. How would his skin feel under your touch? Heat flooded your veins as you imagined what his touch might feel like in return. You shook these thoughts away, focusing on the task at hand and trying to see Jungkook as nothing more than art you were depicting. You were going to make certain you got every detail correct. And for that, you needed to focus.

Jungkook forced himself to look anywhere but at the people who were gawking at his naked frame. He couldn’t stop himself from watching you though. He found himself wondering what you thought of him. He wanted to see what you were doing on your canvas. He wanted you to look at him. As if reading his thoughts, you lifted your gaze and faltered when you found his already upon you. When your eyes met and he bit his lip in a nervous smile, you knew you were screwed.

The next time you saw Jungkook was a week later. Your class had nearly doubled in size as word spread of the toned man with the impressive cargo. You rolled your eyes to yourself but greeted your new arrivals with the same professional smile. You couldn’t blame them, not really. Would you have passed up the opportunity to see him naked again? Hell no. He was already undressed when you’d arrived, running late after a meeting with the program director congratulating you on your ability to gain interest in your class.

“Sorry I’m late!” you announced to the class, then to Jungkook specifically with an apologetic look.

“That’s alright dearie.” one of the older women commented, and you sent her a gracious smile.

“So! For those of you who are new, you can partner up with someone and observe or you can find your own Canvas located on the tables in the back. If you need any help please let me know, since you weren’t here for the introductory lessons.”

“Does she really think we’re here just to draw?” you heard a whisper from the back of the room.

“I know. I didn’t believe Karen when she told me an asian boy with a giant dong was modeling for her community center art class. I had to see for myself.” another voice giggled.

“If I were 15 years younger, I would climb that boy like a tree. I may be old enough to be his mother, but I could still give him a run for his money.”

“Mmm.. I wonder what he can do with those fingers. I bet he has stamina for days.”

You glanced up at Jungkook, who was actively trying to hide his discomfort, shifting a little on the stool as he attempted to stay still. You cleared your throat, loudly, sending a pointed look to the two women in the back.

“I just want to remind our newcomers that this class is about art, not objectification. Please remain respectful. If you can’t manage that, I’m sure you can manage to find the door.” you nearly hissed.

They shrugged sheepishly and grew quiet. You huffed in annoyance, glancing back at Jungkook again, who sent you an appreciative smile. You nodded, focusing on your canvas in front of you once more.

Once class was over and the others had filed out, you walked up to Jungkook as he was buttoning his jeans. He looked up from his task and greeted you with a warm smile.

“Hey, Y/N.” he grinned, apparently forgetting he still needed to put a shirt on.

You used every brain cell you had to keep yourself from staring at his chiseled chest.

“Hey Jungkook.” you smiled. “Are you okay? Did those women make you uncomfortable? I can ask them not to come back.”

“Oh it’s okay!” he assured you, placing a hand on your shoulder, “I appreciate the offer but I don’t want to be a bother. It did make me kind of uncomfortable but they stopped so it’s okay.”

“Are you sure? They said some pretty inappropriate things.” you pressed.

“I don’t mind that what they said was inappropriate,” he explained, “it’s more that they were talking about me like I wasn’t even here. Like I was some sex doll or something. I don’t mind women finding me attractive, but I do have sustenance.”

“I get it. You shouldn’t be objectified while you’re doing your job.” you told him.

“Kind of hard to remind people I have dignity when I’m standing in front of them in all my naked glory. I can see how that might be distracting.” he winked playfully.

“Ah, there’s that cocky personality.” you threw back at him with a grin.

“Seriously though. Thank you for being on my side.” he told you sincerely.

Electricity shot through your body when he leaned in and gave you a gentle hug. You took a deep breath to steady yourself but that only resulted in breathing in the scent of him, musky and woodsy, yet sweet. It reminded you of cinnamon. It was intoxicating.

You desperately ignored the ache between your thighs and wrapped your arms around him to reciprocate his affections. His body seemed to relax against yours and the embrace lasted a little longer than a hug between mostly strangers should. He pulled away but held you at arms length to watch your features for a moment.

“See, now that’s the kind of look I don’t mind from a woman. Especially one as beautiful as you.” he smirked, turning and grabbing his shirt off the stool before sauntering away and shooting you a shit eating grin as you stand frozen in place.

You shot up, waking with a fright. Your chest heaved as you struggled to catch your breath. Images flashing through your mind once more. Your subconscious thoughts led way to the hottest sex dream you’d ever experienced, and of course the star was your male model. You couldn’t stop picturing his mouth on you, his hands on you. You shook your head to clear it. Alone in your bed, you couldn’t get that cocky grin out of your mind. You tried to fight it, you really did. You tried to redirect your mind anywhere but his plump lips, his perfectly sculpted jaw, the way his warm skin felt against yours when he’d hugged you…

Shrouded in shame but overcome with desire, you let your hand dance down your stomach underneath the elastic of your pajama shorts, your fingers finding their way to your slit. You closed your eyes, imagining it was Jungkook’s fingers inside you instead. You pumped them slowly in and out of yourself.

“Ungh… fuck. Jungkook.” you whined, writhing against your fingers, trying to find that spot that drove you crazy.

You picked up the pace, letting your fingers find a delicious rhythm inside of you, wondering what it would feel like if it were Jungkook inside of you instead. His cock was so pretty. It took everything you had not to stand up and start sucking it every time you saw it.

“Jungkook.” left your lips as your whines got louder, moving your attention to circle at your clit with your juices as lubrication.

You wished you had a picture of him to look at while you pleasured yourself to the idea of him, but you let your imagination take control, replaying images from your dream, and creating new fantasies about the model with the sultry eyes. You were close, and the closer you got to the edge, the louder you became. You swore you could almost hear the faint sound of Jungkook’s labored breathing along with your own, but it must’ve been your imagination running wild.

Your orgasm crashed over you, Jungkook’s name leaving your lips repeatedly, like he was the only thought you could muster when your brain turned off and your high took over. You fucked yourself through it, soft whimpers leaving your mouth as you pulled your fingers out. You padded your way to the bathroom to wash up, climbing back into bed not nearly as satiated as you’d hoped to have been. You drifted to sleep anyway, thoughts of Jungkook and the hope of seeing him again soon on the forefront of your mind when unconsciousness took over.

Jungkook was early today, you noticed as you walked into the art room. You were the first two to have arrived, you wanted to make up for being late the previous week.

“Hey. What are you doing here so early?” you asked, setting your bag down as you made your way over to him.

“Needed to talk to you.” he responded, voice low and husky.

“Everything okay?” you asked, concern filling your chest.

“No. Everything is not okay.” he hissed, trapping you against the wall.

You shivered at the sudden change in his demeanor, at his body so close to yours, at the dominating tone of his voice.

“I’ve been horny as hell all week.” he grunted, rutting his hips into yours.

“O-oh.” was all you could muster for a response, your body immediately reacting to his movements and sending moisture to your core.

“Imagine my surprise when I got a call from you late Saturday night.” he smirked, lips ghosting over the hollow of your throat, allowing his cool breath to fan against the area. He watched your skin flush crimson and felt your heart rate pick up.

Saturday night? You hadn’t called him. Saturday night you were… oh.

“Do you have any idea how fucking sexy you sound when you’re moaning my name?” he teased, rolling his hips and pulling them back before pinning you to the wall with them once more, his erection pressed firmly against your aching heat.

“I-” you began to explain, but he cut you off.

“Fuck, the way you sound when you cum… I nearly came too. Listening to you fuck yourself for me. Tell me, what were you thinking about when your fingers sunk into that pretty little pussy? Was it my mouth?” he questioned, letting his lips graze along the shell of your ear.

“Was it my cock?” he ground his hardened member into you once more. “Maybe it was my tongue.” he mused, licking a bold stripe from the swell of your breasts to your collarbone.

A whimper was forced from your throat at his ministrations. You were hyper aware of every breath Jungkook took, feeling his body move against yours. You were also aware that at any moment, people were going to start filing through the door for class.

“Jungkook.” you breathed, a warning.

Or was it a promise?

Jungkook groaned, biting down on the side of your neck and sucking a purple bruise into the exposed flesh, then blowing cold air over the injured spot to soothe it. Your entire body shivered. Jungkook’s head turned as he heard footsteps approach the door. With a pointed look directly into your eyes, he stepped back from you and put much needed space between his body and yours, just in time for the first arrival to walk through the door.

You must’ve been a sight to behold, flushed and breathing heavily while pressed up against the wall. You hadn’t been able to make yourself move after Jungkook stepped away. He looked unbothered, but you were about to burst. You could feel your arousal slipping down your leg. You cursed yourself for wearing a skirt.

Jungkook, however, was thrilled with your outfit choice for the day. Especially since once you’d taken your seat at your easel, he had a front row view of your white lacy panties. Jungkook had already stripped naked for today’s modeling session, having put all of his effort into calming his dick down so he wasn’t hard in front of everyone. However, his efforts were moot when he noticed the dark wet patch imprinted on the ivory fabric that covered your heat.

Jungkook bit down on his lip, nearly drawing blood as his eyes latched onto your core. You shifted in your seat, attempting to press your thighs together to find some relief, an action which made Jungkook smirk to himself. Until his cock started reacting. In front of everyone. Jungkook wasn’t sure if he was more turned on or more embarrassed when he noticed your gaze unwavering on his hardening member. Your mouth hung open slightly, drool pooling at the edges. Jungkook chuckled to himself.

The other members of the class were just as astonished as you were, but Jungkook paid them no mind. All he could think about was getting inside of you. He couldn’t stop picturing the way your pupils had blown out just at his words, the way your breath hitched when he touched you. He bet you’d be so responsive when his fingers came to tease along your folds. He wondered how tight you were, if you’d be as loud as you were on the phone or even louder? Surely he could make you scream if you’d been that loud with just your own fingers?

Jungkook gave up trying to control his raging boner the moment he saw your arousal pooled at your core on display for him. Suddenly, he saw your hand sneak between your legs and tease along the ivory fabric. His gaze snapped up to your face, your eyes alight with mischief when they met his own. Your fingers pushed the damp fabric aside and began circling around your clit. Jungkook was the only one who could see from his position at the front of the room.

You were putting on a show for him, torturing him when he could do nothing about it. His eyes narrowed as he glared at you, but your face remained impassive, the epitome of feigned innocence. But like always, Jungkook saw the real you behind your heavy lidded gaze. You couldn’t hide from him, he could read you like an open book. There was nothing innocent about the way you were licking your lips, slowly dragging the swollen flesh between your teeth teasingly.

Your fingers spread your folds so Jungkook had a perfect view of your clit as you began rubbing it in slow circles. Jungkook’s eyes were glued to your bundle of nerves and the way your fingers teased at it. You gathered some of your slick to coat your fingers and lubricate them so they slid along your cunt with ease. Your digits were shiny, covered in your arousal. Jungkook nearly came when he watched in agony as you inserted two fingers into your entrance, pulling them back out and twisting them so he could watch the light reflect off your wetness. You stuck them in your mouth and sucked your juices off seductively before going back to your sketch.

Jungkook could not wait to punish your naughty behavior. He couldn’t wait to wipe that satisfied smirk off your face with an expert flick of his tongue. You had an attitude now, but once he was balls deep inside that soaking wet pussy he was sure you wouldn’t be quite so eager to tease him. You weren’t going to cum until you were crying and begging for it, he’d already made up his mind.

The minutes ticked by excruciatingly slow, each passing second felt like an eternity as Jungkook waited for class to be over. It felt like his dick twitched every time the little hand on the clock did. No matter what he did, no matter what he thought of, Jungkook could not get his erection to subside. His thoughts only led back to the lewd way you’d sucked your own arousal off your fingers.

Jungkook thought he might cry tears of joy when you finally dismissed the class with a chipper wave of your hand and a sweet smile. The second the last person walked out the door, Jungkook shut it and you heard the click of the lock echo throughout the empty room. You swallowed nervously, bending over to grab your bag, earning a hearty laugh from Jungkook.

“Oh baby girl… you really think I’m just going to let you leave after the little show you put on for me?” he purred, advancing toward you quickly until his body was flush against yours, breath tickling the space below your ear. “So naughty, teasing daddy like that.” he tsked.

His fingers trailed their way up your arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake. You shivered under his touch, though it was barely even there. His skin danced along yours, coming to rest at the curve of your breasts.

“Mmm… I think I’d like to taste these.” he grinned, suddenly yanking your tank top down so that both of your nipples were exposed to the bitter cold of the room.

A smirk played on his lips at the gasp that snuck its way past yours. His head dipped, and you thought he’d immediately take one of your nipples in his mouth, you were salivating over the thought of his warm, wet mouth on your perky buds. Instead, his pillow soft lips found yours, his tongue roaming along until you parted your lips and granted him access.

His tongue danced with yours as he brought his hips closer to grind into your aching center. You had never wanted anyone as badly as you wanted Jungkook. The man pressed against you had you brainless and ready to do anything he asked with a simple roll of his hips.

Jungkook decided he didn’t like being the only naked one, and pulled your shirt above your head. Were you shivering from the cold air or Jungkook’s predatory gaze? Hell if you knew. Jungkook’s nimble fingers had your bra unhooked in a suspiciously short amount of time but you paid that no mind. He flung it across the room and his mouth was on your breast in an instant. Slick tongue working against your erect nipple while the other was massaged by his large hand. Every movement of his tongue, every playful pinch of his forefinger and thumb against your sensitive skin was sending lightning bolts straight down to your heat.

Jungkook’s mouth left your breast with an audible “pop!” since he sucked the flesh as he pulled away, switching his efforts to the neglected side, this time mixing it up by grazing his teeth ever so softly along the most sensitive part. Soft whimpers left you and you effectively became putty in his hands... and mouth. His tongue darted out to give a final flick against your sensitive bud before his hot kisses descended south. He kissed along the expanse of your stomach, slowly working his way down, sucking and nibbling as he went to leave small bruises dotted over your skin. He flipped your skirt up, exposing the lacy white panties that had been taunting him for hours, and the dark wet patch where your arousal soaked through them. Jungkook let out a growl, ripping the ivory fabric from your body and tossing it aside, revealing your pussy to him.

“So fucking beautiful. Better than I’d imagined.” He praised.

Without warning, his tongue darted out and swiped along your folds. Your knees buckled but Jungkook’s strong arms held you up, hands on either of your hips to keep you still and pressed against the wall while he worked his tongue along your slit then against your throbbing clit.

“Shit!” You cried out, body jolting forward and hands coming to rest on his shoulders when his plump lips wrapped around the sensitive bundle and sucked harshly.

Jungkook showed no mercy, devouring your cunt like it was his death row meal, the final wish of a man with nothing to lose. He lapped at your juices as if it were the last thing he’d ever do. Your entire body was thrumming, shaking violently as your orgasm was wretched out of you with no warning.

His name fell from your lips like a prayer, or a curse, you weren’t sure. The only thing you could focus on was the blinding white euphoria his tongue had shoved you headfirst into. You would’ve collapsed if Jungkook hadn’t held you up, allowing you to slowly sink to your knees to meet his posture as your body twitched and shook at the aftermath of your mind blowing high. Your breathing ragged and your eyes wide, you watched the satisfied smile appear on his angelic face. Cocky bastard. Sexy, skilled, ridiculously beautiful cocky bastard.

“Still feeling like a tease?” Jungkook asked, swiping his tongue over his bottom lip as he raised an eyebrow at you. Your chest was rising and falling rapidly, and all of his words sounded like another language at the moment.

“What?” You asked, causing him to laugh a bit at your clearly fucked out state of mind. Although the both of you were stripped down to almost nothing (save your skirt) and on your knees in the ground, it was clear who held the power between the two of you.

“You wanna taste yourself on my tongue?” He offered, already beginning to lean forward as he reached his arm out to pull your body closer to his, but you shook your head, an idea playing in the back of your head as you quickly conjured up a plan that’d have him weak and panting instead.

“I’d rather taste you on my own. Stand up.” You ordered.

He raised an eyebrow, surprised by your cute attempt at telling him what to do as if he hadn’t successfully put you in your place a minute or two ago. He stood nonetheless, vaguely interested in whatever you had up your sleeve. His goal was to make you suffer, but he supposed you could have a bit of fun before he fucked you brainless over that desk that sat a few feet away from the two of you.

You shifted yourself around a bit, as did he, so he now had his back pressed against the wall. You sat submissively under him, although Jungkook was anything but while he had ravaged your sweetness with his tongue.

“You’re pretty with your thighs around my face, but there’s just something about you on your knees.” Jungkook teased, his cockiness never failing to make an appearance as he ran a hand through your hair in appreciation.

You hummed to thank him, a sly smile of your own playing on your lips as you slowly lifted your small hand up to his cock. This small action alone had him tensing up completely, hissing quietly as you squeezed your hand loosely against his length repeatedly until he had to intertwine his fingers with your locks and pull your head up.

“You’d better stop unless you want to walk out of this room with my cum dripping down your face.” He warned.

You shrugged, leaning forward a bit, placing your free hand on his thigh while you stroked his cock slowly, your eyes honing in on the clear liquid that leaked from the tip of his length. You licked your lips at the thought of swiping it away with your tongue, but you weren’t supposed to give in this easily. This wasn’t a part of your plan, but you’d give anything just to keep seeing the expression of pure ecstasy on his face.

You continued to stroke him with your hand, purposely digging your nails into his thigh to see if it’d bring a reaction out of him. A shiver ran from his spine to the tips of his toes as you did this, and you couldn’t help the giggle that slipped past your lips.

“You like a little pain?” You teased, narrowing your eyes at him in defiance as you stuck your tongue out, pressing it slowly against his shaft.

You licked a stripe from his balls to the angry tip, looking up at him through your lashes as you swiped the precum away like you originally intended.

It was just as salty as you expected it to be, but you didn’t mind at all. You closed your eyes as you brought your tongue back into your mouth, pressing your lips together and swallowing slowly as you allowed the taste of him to burn down your throat.

“You taste just as good as you look.” You commented seductively, pressing a chaste kiss to his cock head and swirling your tongue around it once more before you began to spread your lips over the expanse of his cock.

Now, you’d definitely had your experience with this sort of thing once or twice before, but Jungkook was big, and there was no way you were fitting your pretty mouth over all of him, no matter how desperately you wanted to. As much as you were dying to get all of him in your mouth, for your own safety and wellbeing, you opted to use your hand to continue to apply some relief to what you couldn’t quite reach with your mouth.

“Oh, shit. That’s so good, baby.” You weren’t sure if he was just in the moment, but your heart fluttered a bit at the pet name.

You hollowed your cheeks as you struggled to take more of him into your mouth. You gagged a handful of times, but Jungkook didn’t seem to mind. He even pulled all of your hair into his hands, using it as a sort of makeshift leash as he pushed you further down onto his cock, wanting to hear you gag on him again.

You worked quickly with your mouth, alternating the flicks of your wrists with your hand to keep Jungkook guessing. He had pressed his weight fully against the wall behind him, his leg twitching occasionally whenever you ‘accidentally’ dragged your teeth along the underside of his dick, not enough to cause any real harm, just enough to ignite a spark.

“Oh my God…” He whimpered.

You did yourself the favor of looking up at him while your mouth was stuffed full, your pussy spasming at the sight. His mouth was hung open in a silent moan, his eyes were screwed shut in pleasure, and a few of his sweaty black locks were stuck to his forehead. You figured you could make him cum just like this, but you’d rather be his personal cumbucket. Was it a bit selfish? Maybe, but you couldn’t care less at the moment. He looked absolutely delectable above you.

He cracked his eyes open just as you slid his cock out of your mouth, gathering up the saliva that built up while your lips were stretched around him and spitting it back out onto his manhood. You were deliberately slow with this, wanting him to feel it the moment it made contact with his head. You watched his face as your saliva spilled down onto his shaft, using this as lubrication as you continued to pump your fist against him.

You sank down further onto your knees, only able to give his balls a few licks with your tongue, and a short lived massage before you were yanked backward, head first. Your immediate reaction to this was a rough squeeze to his cock, since it was the only thing in your grasp at the moment. You let out a strangled groan as he clenched his jaw while looking down at you, cock standing at attention as he debated his next movement.

“Get the fuck up.” He commanded you, although he pulled you up off of the ground by the grip he had on your hair on his own.

He pressed your back to his chest, ensuring you felt every ripple of his muscles pressed against your naked skin. Making a path with his hand from your stomach, in between your breasts, then finally to your neck, he held you firmly against him, so you had no space between your flushed bodies. You felt every rise and fall of his toned chest, his breathing just as ragged as yours.

“I’m going to bend you over that desk there, alright?” He whispered into your ear, his cool breath fanning over your cheek as you nodded eagerly, just wanting him to follow through with his plan instead of telling you the process. After all, actions do speak louder than words.

“When I let you go, I want you to walk over there like a good little slut and bend over. Flip that skirt up and show me your cunt. Can you do that for me?” You felt his cock twitch against your inner thigh, and you nodded again with a quiet moan.

“Go.” He let you go with one word, watching you swiftly walk over toward the desk as he took his length in his right hand and stroked it quickly while approaching you with loud, threatening footsteps.

You weren’t sure how that was possible since he didn’t have shoes on, but it only excited you further. You complied with his orders easily, pressing your cheek against the cold surface of the desk. You hiked the skirt up a bit around your waist and wiggled your ass teasingly as you waited for him to come ravage you.

“You’re cute, but you’re so annoying.” He grunted from behind you, slapping both of your ass cheeks with his heavy hands, massaging them afterward before delivering two more harsh slaps.

“You work me up in front of a room full of people, and then try to collect your stuff afterward as if you weren’t practically begging me to use you? Bullshit.” He spanked your ass again, relishing in the way you hissed after every hit and gripped the edge of the desk tighter.

“I’m going to make a mess out of you, you know that?” He pressed his chest against your back, pushing his weight onto you as he whispered into your ear.

You nodded, his eyes scanning over the expanse of your back as his long fingers momentarily kneaded your muscles.

“What’re you waiting for, then?” You quipped, although your voice sounded a bit flat because of Jungkook’s body weight. He laughed as he pulled himself up off of you.

Silently, he grabbed his cock and lined it up with your pussy as he pressed the head against your tight hole. You moaned at this, inhaling sharply as he just barely slipped himself inside of you. You whimpered in defeat as he pulled out quickly afterward, not wanting to give you the time to savor the feeling of being stretched out by his length.

“I swear, if you wait any longer then I’m going to fuck myself on your dick.” You threatened shakily, to which he smirked at.

“Is that so?” He let go of his cock. “Be my guest, then.” He shrugged, although you couldn’t see him.

You turned around swiftly, beyond irritated at whatever game he was trying to play. You were turned on, and you wanted to be fucked silly, but he was acting like a brat.

“You know what? Fine, I will.” You challenged, looking over your shoulder at him to see the intrigued smile on his face.

You rolled your eyes, roughly grabbing his cock and pushing yourself back onto him hastily. Jungkook disapproved of this, landing a sharp slap to your right ass cheek he gripped your hips roughly. He held you securely, preventing you from sliding back any further onto his cock.

“You’d better slow down, sweetheart.” He warned shakily, his nails leaving small imprints on your skin as he moved his hands down to your ass. “I haven’t cum yet, and your little hole is so inviting.”

You gulped, although something about his threat to cum inside of you was one step closer to pushing you over the edge.

“Take it slowly. Take me in slowly, so I can feel you.” With this he let go of your ass, watching with lidded eyes as your arousal coated more than half of his manhood.

He licked his lips at this, loving the way your juices spilled onto him, and onto the desk. Perhaps he’d make you lick his cock clean afterwards. That’d be a sight to see.

Your hips stuttered before you could take the last few inches, which sent a gigantic boost to Jungkook’s ego. Of course, he knew he was big, but something about seeing you struggle to take him in fully even after you talked all of that shit previously was egging him on.

“You at your limit, baby?” He mocked you, and as soon as you tried to respond, your voice cracked.

He hummed, chuckling slightly as he slid his hands up from your ass to your back, scratching his stubby nails at your flesh before threading his fingers in your hair once more. He roughly yanked your head back with a malicious smile. Your body jolted at this, which sent the rest of his cock plunging into you in one go.

“God, that’s fucking it. Look at you, swallowing Daddy’s dick like a good girl. You look so pretty stuffed full like this.” You were incomprehensive, your entire being filled with thoughts of Jungkook pummeling your pussy out of existence.

“Not so eager to use that fucking mouth now, are you? Hm?” He asked, pulling your head back a bit further.

Your back was so arched that you could see the ceiling and a bit of his face, and this new position made it so much easier for his cock to brush against that spot that made you a mumbling mess.

“You should be ashamed, really.” He said, dropping his head down to look at your ass as he slowly began to work his hips against it. “Have you got anything to say for yourself?” You were taking him so well, but he couldn’t let his unbothered persona falter just yet.

“Well?” He let go of your hair, and you immediately dropped your head forward, your eyebrows furrowed in pleasure as you struggled to hold yourself up on your elbows while he ruthlessly fucked you.

“You’re s-so fucking big.” You mumbled pathetically, causing Jungkook to twitch inside of you.

“I know. You like Daddy’s big fat cock inside that tight little pussy. Tell me, baby. Tell me how much you like it. Tell me how good you feel.” He pushed one of his hands down against your back, silently telling you to press your breasts against the desk. You obeyed, hissing as your nipples hardened instantly after making contact with the cool surface.

“I like—o-oh, oh shit.” Your jaw fell slack as Jungkook began to pick up the pace of his thrusts, his expert hips moving with such sharpness that you could feel it each time he pulled back a bit to fuck himself into you again. Although you didn’t do what he asked of you, he didn’t pressure you any further, his only goal to use you as his cute little cocksleeve.

“Spread your legs for me.” You immediately moved to follow his request, unable to balance yourself on your feet now. This was no problem, as Jungkook easily took a secure grip around your waist to keep you pressed against the desk.

“You feel so good around me like that, oh shit.” Jungkook whimpered, his tongue hanging out of his mouth slightly as he jabbed his fingers into your sides and pulled you onto the tips of your toes. You were startled at the sudden change, although it allowed for him to drive deeper inside of you.

“Put your hands on the edge of the desk now. Do it right fucking now.” He growled like some sort of feral animal. You scurried to follow his orders, just as he began to slam his cock so powerfully inside of your cunt that your hips banged against the metal desk with every other thrust, and you knew there would be bruises.

“F-fuck!” You screamed, and Jungkook responded quickly by throwing his hand messily over your mouth to quiet your moans.

“Shh, Y/N. We can’t let you get caught being a little slut.” He chuckled breathlessly, short moans and growls leaving the back of his throat as he continued to piston his hips in and out of you, your ass slapping against his abdomen every time the two of you connected. You were teetering over the edge, desperately wanting to lose control underneath him.

“I’m cumming, I’m gonna c—JUNGKOOK!” You yelled out in frustration as he slipped his cock out of you.

He grunted, pushing some of the clutter on the desk away before picking you up and setting you on top of it, so he could see your face.

“One,” He said, his voice raspy which caused you to shiver, “You’re not cumming unless I get to see your face when you do. Two,” He continued, slipping himself back into you with ease due to how fucking soaked you were, “You’re not cumming until you beg for it.” He reached for one of your legs and placed it over his shoulder, gripping onto it as he sustained the rapid pace of his manhood plunging into your inviting heat.

“I-I wanna cum, Daddy.” You whispered in defeat, a twinkle in Jungkook’s eyes as he was beginning to finally get you where he wanted you. You weren’t begging just yet, though, which was unfortunate for you because you wouldn’t get an orgasm, and Jungkook was going to cum inside you either way.

“You do, Princess?” He whispered back, still holding your leg while his other hand moved to the back of your head. He pressed your forehead against his, your noses bumping as Jungkook fucked you. You nodded, tears threatening to spill out of your eyes at having to hold your orgasm back.

“You aren’t begging for me, baby. Beg me to give you permission to cum on this dick.” You cried out weakly, knowing that you’d have to give in to his rules in order to achieve that sweet release. It was right in the tip of your tongue.

You placed your arms around his neck, hanging them there loosely as you gazed into his eyes, which were full of lust and carnal desire.

“Can I cum o-on your c-cock—a-ah!” You failed miserably to finish your sentence, as Jungkook began pistoning his cock inside of your cunt with such force that the desk began to screech against the ground a bit, knocking at one of the metal racks behind it.

“I’m so close to cumming, pretty girl. Talk fast.” He warned, thrusts quickly becoming unorganized. You nodded.

“Please let me cum! I-Iv’e learned my lesson, I swear I have! I’m so close Jungkook, p-please!” He grunted his approval, nodding once and delivering about a dozen more thrusts before he dropped his head into the crook of your neck, biting down on the skin there as he began to shoot rope after rope of his cum deep inside of your greedy cunt.

You came with him, your body tensing up for a few moments before your release smacked you like a bus, heavy and unapologetic. Due to the wild fuckfest the two of you had, though, a few utensils hit the ground, and a can of paint was wobbling on the edge of the rack that the desk was smashing against a few seconds ago. Jungkook finally lifted his head up, leaving a trail of kisses in his wake. He placed one final kiss to your forehead before locking eye contact with you.

“I know for a fact that was the best fuck of your life.” You laughed, shaking your head at the fact that his cocky attitude would never settle. Not even after using up (what you assumed was) all of his stamina.

You didn’t mind it, though. In fact, you were starting to grow fond of it.

“It certainly was, but look at all the—“

The can of paint gave way to the pull of gravity, and tumbled to the ground with a deafening crack, the contents of the can flying out and splattering directly onto you and Jungkook. You knew what it was as soon as it hit your skin, and you immediately wondered why someone would leave a damn can of open paint on the top shelf.

It was brief, a big splash, so neither of you really had time to react to it. When you finally lifted your head up, Jungkook’s chest was covered in black paint, as were your legs and skirt. Seriously, the one fucking day you decide to wear pink?

“—Mess. Look at all the mess.” You finished your sentence with a giggle, thankful that you kept towels in the room during your classes. It’d never come out of your skirt, but at least you could wipe it off of your skin.

Your gaze met Jungkooks and you both burst out in a fit of giggles. You couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes lit up when he laughed, the polar opposite of the domineering man who’d just rocked your world minutes before. This Jungkook was soft, open, lighter. His laughter was the most beautiful melody that had ever graced your ears and you wouldn’t have minded listening to it for a very long time. His joy was contagious, and you couldn’t stop the goofy smile from spreading across your lips as he wrapped his arms around you in a playful hug.

Though his touch still sent electricity through you, this was different. It was sweet and gentle. You let yourself melt in his embrace, drinking in the way he made you feel so secure, so wanted. You sighed happily. You grinned mischievously then, collecting some of the paint off of the surface of the desk and wiping a thick stripe of it across his cheek. He froze in shock then glared at you, a hint of a smile playing on those gorgeous lips.

He reached out to grab you, but you were too fast, shrieking in delight as you ran away from him. Jungkook chased you around the small art studio, his laughter floating through the air like your favorite song. His arms snaked around you and he pulled you close, rubbing his cheek against yours to spread the paint over your skin. Your giggles dissolved as he placed a tender kiss to your lips.

Pulling away and placing a peck on his nose, you began pulling your clothes back on. Jungkook watched you, admiring the way your body moved, how much sweeter you were once your attitude had been properly taken care of. You smiled at him over your shoulder, and he couldn’t recall a time when he’d ever seen such a beautiful smile on any other woman. He couldn’t recall seeing another woman who even compared to you.

Then realization brought a similar smile onto his own lips, and Jungkook thought to himself, that he just might have found the one.

#jungkook smut #bts smut #jeon jungkook #jeon jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you #jungkook x you #bts jungkook #jeon jeongguk

2K notes · View notes

missorgana · 3 years

Text

words hung above, but never would form

pairing: bucky barnes/sam wilson

fandom: mcu, what if...?

rating: mature

word count: 3500

warning: swearing, alcohol, major character death, blood, guns

summary: What might've happened after the zombie apocalypse broke out, before the last team of heroes was formed, and how Bucky Barnes lost Sam Wilson. (pre-canon fic to what if... zombies!?)

(a few days ago i posted this very painful angst fic i thought of after the zombies episode of what if...? so here i am dropping it on tumblr as well!! i apologise, please know that it broke my heart to write this. uhm. that’s all!)

read on ao3

It’s been three months since they lost Steve.

Well, since the world lost most of the Avengers, really. And since the world lost most of its, uh, regular people anyway.

It’s a dark world full of shit and blood and brains out there now, yet Bucky’s taking his cold shower in the morning and cannot bring himself to care much. Sounds harsh, he knows.

He knew nothing of this new world and new time except his best friend, so of fucking course, Steve being… not Steve made him feel like there was no fucking point to anything. If the Avengers couldn’t beat this zombie virus? Yeah, there’s no hope for humanity anymore.

Except… except the man who greets him in the morning, handing him a plate of pancakes without even asking if he wanted some and pinning yet another red pin on their vastly growing map of ghost towns. Those are fully infected spots, by the way. Nothing left but the undead. The map is turning overwhelmingly red overwhelmingly fast.

The man hovering at said map also hands him his coffee, puts on one of the records from their LP stash, and smiles his sunny, stupid grin before ruffling Bucky’s hair and telling him he missed a spot.

Yeah, the world’s become even more of a dog eat dog world than before.

But Bucky Barnes’ got Sam Wilson. And nothing else matters.

It’s ironic really, that when he’s gotten out of cryo, that he’s finally rid of the Hydra programming and torture and pain he’s endured for years, and at the same time, someone somewhere got bitten and humanity’s become a walking all you can eat buffet. Perfect timing.

Of course, Steve’s never fled from a fight in his life, so honestly? Bucky can’t exactly say he’s surprised. He is- sorry, was an Avenger after all. The little shit.

What does surprise him, however, is finding himself growing closer to Sam, Steve’s friend who for some reason, somehow, was just as intent on finding him as Steve was. And… helping him. Saving him.

Bucky never understood why. He still doesn’t. He hates himself for everything they made him do, he’ll probably continue hating himself for as long as he lives, no matter how much he tries to suppress it, but Sam doesn’t.

Sam fought for him, fought with him, visited him in Wakanda and took him back to a somewhat normal life before… you know. Now they’ve found a safehouse after losing everyone they had, except each other, and they’ve zombie-proofed to the best of their ability.

And life with Sam, well, Bucky could get used to it. In fact, he gets used to it very quickly.

Sam smiles so easily at him and doesn’t look at him like he’s a broken man who needs to be fixed. Sam doesn’t look at him with resentment, or pity, he just… looks at him.

It’s hard to explain.

Thing is, nothing makes sense. The violence that keeps on going and going doesn’t make sense, Bucky losing his best friend in the world doesn’t make sense, the streets being abandoned and houses vacant and survival being a constant factor in life now doesn’t make sense.

But the man he’s hiding out with makes sense. He makes so much sense. The only thing that makes sense anymore.

His existence is constant, he’s there for him when he lets him and when he doesn’t, he gives him space. The shorter man is as if the sun was living and breathing, and himself, well, he’s the moon. He’s just trying to stay in Sam's orbit.

Chasing after him. Circulating. Bashing in everything he’s willing to give him.

The scruffy beard he’s let grow, and him humming to himself while he’s working on Redwing, and the wheezing, carefree laugh he can’t stop when Bucky suggests they watch a zombie movie one night. He tells Sam not to overwork himself and he promises not to, and the other man tells him to let him know what’s going on in his head, and hell, Bucky tells him. He tells him everything.

In fact, it’s the same night they do watch a zombie movie, frequently pointing out the inaccuracies and turning it into a drinking game with the terrible, terrible booze they swiped from the supermarket, that he looks at the short haired man dozing off on his shoulder and realises that this is the most peace he’s ever had.

It’s basically an apocalypse outside, but Bucky can’t get himself to look away from Sam’s eyelashes fluttering lightly as he slips off to sleep.

Their legs are tangled into each other on the coffee table, the microwave popcorn long abandoned, one of his friend’s hands resting on his thigh.

His beard scratches his shoulder, but he doesn’t mind. Sam has asked him if he should shave it several times, but God no, never. That beard’s been doing a lot of things to him - all good, of course.

He turns down the volume a bit. Sam looks peaceful. He hasn’t been sleeping much, he knows neither of them have, and where’s the time for it, anyway? He’s glad he is now.

Bucky can’t get himself to move, fearing waking the short haired man from his slumber, and for a minute, the outside world is far, far away from their reality.

Sam looks incredibly soft in that ripped sweater and sweatpants and the snore he lets out is no less than adorable.

It’s like- he looks at this man, and suddenly it’s like everything just falls back into place.

He looks soft in the morning over breakfast and hazy eyes, soft in the evening when he says goodnight, soft when he’s clutching the photos of his nephews (AJ and Cass were their names, he’s learned), soft when he’s retelling a memory with his parents on the family boat, soft when they both muse about Steve and his dumb shenanigans.

He looks something entirely different when he’s shirtless out of the shower and tiny droplets still fall down his chest and abs and Bucky struggles to breathe, every damn time. He only realises now why that is.

Sam is like a sunset, because Bucky wants nothing more than to wake up to this man and nothing else every day, till the end of time. What more could he wish for?

He’s beautiful. Bucky doesn’t think he’s called anyone, or anything beautiful before.

Looking back, he can’t see anymore how they could argue and bicker and annoy each other, and doesn't understand why. He’s wasted so much fucking time doing that. Not anymore. He could never go back to that, it would most likely kill him. Steve would be thrilled if he could see them now, wouldn't he?

And while this realization dawns upon him, washing over him like the biggest wave you could possibly imagine, he wonders if Sam feels the same when he looks at him.

Does he feel safe falling asleep on his shoulder like this? Does he find everlasting comfort in his smile like he does in his, does he wake up hoping and praying to see his smile, just once? Does he do everything he can think of to make him look at him, like he tries every single day?

He can only dream.

Huh. So this is what it’s like to be in love. Bucky doesn’t hate it.

It’s only a month after his life-changing realization of the sort that couldn't make him concentrate on everything else, that Bucky decides today is the day. He’s going to confess his feelings for his friend.

And this is something in the middle of chaos, something he’s never experienced before. He’d never thought he’d practice his words in the mirror like a nervous teenager, but alas.

Sam Wilson, I’m in love with you. No. No, it’s too short. Think, James. What does he make you feel?

Sam, you’re the last thing I think about when I go to sleep and the first thing I think about when I wake up. Sam, I want to see you smile every day. Sam, I want to make you happy… as happy, as… happy as you make me.

Too long? Shit.

Sam, you’re the only good in this piece of shit world. I love you. Sam hates when he’s that pessimistic, though, and always tells him to cheer up, even in the middle of a zombie invasion. Another reason why he loves him.

Sam, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you. Nothing I wouldn't do to see you happy. I want to spend the rest of my life making you happy.

His stream of thought is interrupted by faint clanging in the kitchen of their safehouse. Bucky sighs. He’s not sure this is going to be perfect, he wants it to be.

He has to go, he has to try. Now or never.

Except… the smile he’s come to anticipate every single morning isn’t there to meet him. Instead, he sees Sam suited up, wing pack on his back, gloves on, looking through one of their many folders they’ve filled up with theories of the infection and safe spots and danger zones and everything else.

Bucky frowns, looks at him in silence for a moment. Maybe he’ll try a joke, “Going somewhere?”

His friend hums without looking, “I’m going to catch Steve.”

Sorry, what? What the fuck?

Sam did not just say what he thinks he said. He didn’t. He couldn’t have.

This is why he blinks in disbelief, for the first time rendered speechless by the other man. Sam looks up at him, face glazed over by determination and confusion by his own reaction, most like. Then, worry overtakes his usually warm, deep brown eyes, ones that he could drown himself in and never come out of.

“You okay, Bucky?” he asks, and Bucky clenches his jaw.

“You’re going to… catch him,” he says, a statement rather than a question. It’s Sam’s turn to frown, but he nods.

“Yes. Catch him and bring him back.”

“You’re joking,” he laughs in sheer denial, but the seriousness in his friend’s face is scaring him, “Sam… tell me you’re joking.”

“I’m not.”

Oh, this is just not happening. This world lets him fall in love with the most perfect person he knows and then lets that very same person be so fucking stupid?

Bucky can’t let him go. Bucky can’t lose him.

“What, then?” he asks, one hand on his hip, “Invite him over and let him eat our brains, just like that?”

“ Bucky. We’re going to catch him, and then we’ll cure him.”

He laughs, loudly. Okay, this is just hilarious. Sam Wilson is the most perfect person in this world exactly because of this- because he believes this world is still able to be saved. Because he believes it’s worth saving . Fucking hell.

“You found a cure you’re not telling me about?”

Sam sighs, scratching his chin, “Come on, Buck. I talked to Hope-”

“Who?”

“Hope Van Dyne. The Wasp,” the shorter man explains, “She lost her parents, and Scott Lang, remember?”

Bucky shrugs, but nods.

“Well, she’s been recruiting those of us who survived. Who’s left. And she thinks there might be a way to reverse the virus, her father brought it from the, uh… Quantum Realm.” Sam’s about to hand him one of the folders, but he crosses his arms, and shakes his head, then.

God, Bucky’s well aware how stubborn he is. Sam has told him plenty of times.

But he’ll be damned if he lets the man go just like that. He’s not letting him get hurt.

“That’s not happening,” he says shortly. His friend’s frown deepens.

“I’m sorry?”

“You’re not going after that thing.”

The man turns to him completely, wide-eyed and shock written all over his features. “ That thing? ” he huffs, “That thing is our friend.”

“Not anymore, Sam. I’m not letting you get yourself killed by the undead.”

“He’s not dead,” Sam says. His voice raised. He looks- he doesn't look soft anymore. There’s no trace of that smile that gives Bucky shivers down his spine. He looks… upset. He’s upset. Fucking shit.

Why can’t he- fuck , can he not try to be a fucking hero right now? That’s why Steve’s gone. Why can’t he see that?

“You’re being irrational,” Bucky tells him, feeling the anger rise within him, this is not how it was supposed to go, stay with me-

“Oh, I’m being irrational?” Sam laughs, sarcasm evident in his voice, “There might be a cure. We might get Steve back, Buck. And I can take care of myself, you know.”

“I know, but-”

“But, what?” he sighs, again. The irritation is flowing between them, Bucky’s freaking out, and above all, Sam looks… he looks disappointed.

This is the worst he’s felt in his whole fucking life. He can’t disappoint the only person that matters to him. Yet he did.

“What if Hope’s wrong, Sam? It’s pointless, most of the population’s infected anyway, it would take forever to get everyone-”

“You’ve got that little faith in me?”

No. No no no. Sam, no. I love you. I love you so much it pains me to see you like this, I never meant to hurt you, I didn’t-

“We’ve lost too many, Sam!” he finds himself yelling, none of the words scrambled in his brain making it out. He’s the most stupid of them, obviously, not that he wasn’t aware. “I know you believe these people can be saved, and your hope is incredible, but can you please… not go?”

“I’m an Avenger, Bucky. It’s what I do. It’s what Steve did.”

“It’s what got Steve turned.”

This seems to be something Sam has to ponder over, because a rather uncomfortable silence settles between them. His friend’s eyes soften somewhat, but his teeth are still gritted, as are his own. Would be inappropriate to confess his undying love to the other man now, wouldn’t it?

“I do believe they can be saved,” his friend eventually speaks up, “I believe that because I need to. I lost my parents, Sarah, Steve, Natasha. I have to try.”

See, that makes sense. Another reason why Bucky fucking loves him and wants to kiss his stupid fucking face and beg him not to go. But he doesn’t.

“It’s too risky, Sam, it’s not safe.”

“I told you, I can take care of myself.”

Bucky holds in a whine, embarrassing, desperate , “I know you can! You’re a fucking hero. You’re one of the best, Sam, you are. I wish I was that brave, I just-”

“Then why won’t you let me do this?” his friend asks in frustration, “Why won’t you let me try?”

I can’t lose you. “Because I lo-”

The words are interrupted by a loud bang. Sam closes his mouth immediately, tight-lipped. Bucky’s mouth hangs open, voice disappearing. Another bang. Then a moan reaches them from somewhere far away.

Their eyes widen in synchron as they look at each other, eye contact unwavering. They both know what that sound means.

Someone’s coming in. Someone not human.

Whatever’s found them, it’s on the roof, and it’s trying its hardest to get in, so Bucky’s got to shut his mind off and get ready.

Not only is he stupid enough to start a fight with Sam, they also get discovered by one of the zombies. Fan-fucking-tastic. They run to opposite ends of the safehouse, trying to locate exactly where the intruder’s at.

Bucky follows the sound into the hallway, past the bathroom, while Sam stays behind in the kitchen, machine gun pointed at the ceiling. He could not have picked a worse time to speak his feelings than today, could he? Well done, James.

And as if this day isn’t already bad enough, he can’t hear the groaning from the roof anymore.

“Sam!” he yells, because it doesn’t matter if the brain-eater hears them, “I lost it.”

“I hear them,” his friend yells back, prompting Bucky to make his way back, adrenaline pumping, feeling the sweat running down his back, “They’re on- Bucky! Buck-”

A crash. The biggest fucking crash he’s ever heard. Silence.

No.

“Sam?!”

“I’m here,” he hears the other man’s coughing, “It’s Steve. It’s Steve! Steve, hey, okay, now stay right there-”

Bucky’s officially panicking. This is not happening. It’s not .

He’s running so fast he stumbles over his own feet. At the same time, he feels as if he’s frozen on the spot. He’s not sure what’s real anymore.

“Sam, I’m coming-”

Sam screams . And Bucky’s heart is torn out of his chest and smashed onto the floor.

It’s the most earth shattering scream Bucky’s ever heard. It reaches him and goes inside every bone in his body and clouds his vision and makes him want to scream in anger. Sam. Sam. Sam. I need him. I need you.

Yet, when he reaches the living room, he sees nothing at first but rubble and smoke. The roof’s broken down. And in the middle of it, a figure is huddled over another lying on the floor, eerily still.

No. This isn’t real.

He might even convince himself he’s dreaming, he really might, because his vision is still clouded, and his teeth are still gritted so hard he bites the inside of his cheek, until the figure turns around and he’s met with a familiar face.

Steve Rogers.

But it isn’t his Steve, it could never be, because this Steve? This one’s a walking corpse. Sickly pale skin and blood between his teeth and red eyes looking back at Bucky with no memory or remorse. And on the floor-

On the floor… on the floor- He can’t be. He’s- Sam is- Sam .

“Sam,” is all Bucky can say, feeling like a broken record. His voice breaks, and the undead fucker in front of him doesn’t move an inch.

Sam is bitten. My Sam. I love you. I love you so fucking much and that’s why I didn’t want you to go, you perfect idiot, I love you-

He’s clutching the machine gun too hard, his knuckles are turning white, but he can’t do anything.

“That’s enough, Steve,” he finds himself addressing him. It doesn’t faze the thing in front of him, but that’s not surprising. It’s not his friend anymore, “Enough.”

Then a moan sounds, but it doesn’t come from Steve’s mouth. The figure on the floor rises, slowly. Sam Wilson. But he isn't his Sam anymore.

Sam looks at him. There’s nothing in his eyes, they’re empty. No warmth, no safety, not anymore.

He’s gone, but he can’t make himself believe it.

The thing that used to be his friend… the man he’s in love with, the man he wanted to spend every day with, every day for the rest of his life, if only he’d let him, that monster that’s destroyed the most beautiful soul on this shitty earth, hollowed him out and taken his body, that monster groans again.

Then, both figures move. The fuckers are moving in one direction, and that’s towards him.

They’re not fast, Bucky backs away, but his eyes are soon clouded by hot streams of tears running down his face. He can’t hold them back. He can’t control himself. He can’t control anything, not anymore.

So he raises his gun, “Sam,” he whispers, well aware no one’s going to respond, “Sam, I’m so sorry. This is my fault. This is all my-”

He squeezes his eyes shut, ready to fire all the ammo he’s got into his two undead friends, but he opens them again, looks back at them. They’re hungry. They’re still moving.

Bucky can’t breathe.

He wipes at his tears angrily, looking back and forth between those two dead fuckers and hovers his finger over the trigger, but he can’t… he can’t. He only realises in this second. He can’t shoot.

They’re not themselves anymore , he reminds himself. They’re gone.

But Sam’s warm voice full of peace and sunshine and lazy laughter and fleeting, shy touching of hands pops up in his head. That thing is our friend. He’s not dead. Those things are your best friend and the love of your life, James.

The zombies keep coming closer and Bucky bites his tongue.

“Shit.”

He lowers his gun, and because he doesn’t know what else to do, he knocks over the coffee table, then the TV, then the potted plant that Sam loves- loved so much, and runs as fast as he can, not looking back. He hears more crashes, the distraction hopefully successful, but doesn’t slow down.

Bucky escapes out the back door, jumps in the car and pushes the speeder.

Sam Wilson, I’m so in love with you, I can’t think about anything else. You’re the only one for me. I love you. And now you’re gone because of me. I didn’t get to tell you.

He doesn’t know what to do, or where he’s going, except- he needs to find Hope Van Dyne. He has to.

17 notes · View notes

farfromsugafanfic · 3 years

Text

Sutures - Chapter Five: Murmurs

Genre: Soulmates AU, Idiots to Lovers, slight Enemies to Lovers

Pairing: Yoongi/Named Reader

Warnings (chapter specific): mentions of family illness, a disgusting amount of fluff

Synopsis: “A person often meets his destiny on the road he took to avoid it.” –Jean de la Fontaine

There was only one thing you and Min Yoongi had in common that night. You were both brokenhearted. You only intended to be together for one night, but when you both end up in the hospital the next day you discover that you are soulmates. It could kill you to be apart. As you and Yoongi attempt to sever the bond between you, will another be formed?

Previous | Series Masterlist | Next

"Sumi!" Jungkook called. "Can you do us a favor?"

Jungkook and Jimin stood outside your door. You could tell they were up to something based on the smirk on their faces.

You had been quietly knitting, trying to forget the events of earlier that day with Minki and what happened in the backseat with Yoongi. You still felt Yoongi's lips on your stomach, soft, yet, demanding. He hadn't managed to leave any marks this time, which you were grateful for, but part of you wished you could have a reminder of the secret between you.

"What?" you asked.

"Yoongi was going to wake up at four to help us with the production on the new song. And it's almost four thirty now. Can you wake him up for us?"

You glanced at the two boys who while they seemed mischievous, seemed genuinely like they didn't want the task of having to wake up Yoongi.

"Why can't you do it?" you asked, putting aside the hat you were currently working on.

"He'll be nicer to you," Jungkook said. "He's grumpy when he wakes up."

You laughed slightly. "All right, fine."

You followed the two boys towards Yoongi's bedroom. You hadn't stepped foot in his bedroom yet, having only been in his studio. You opened the door slowly and tiptoed towards the bed where the boy's form was curled up asleep. Despite being taller than you, when he slept he made himself look so small, his knees curled up towards his chest and his arms around a pillow.

"Yoongi," you said, lightly shaking his shoulder. "The boys said you wanted to get up at four. It's four thirty."

You hear an annoyed groan and before you could protest, Yoongi dropped the pillow and pulled you onto the bed, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist. He rested his chin on your shoulder and you felt the soft scratch of his barely there facial hair.

"Sleep with me," he whispered, his hot breath tickling your ear.

You reached up to the pillow above you and threw it back towards him, hearing it hit with a solid thud.

"Fuck you." You attempted to squirm from his grasp, your legs kicking the covers and his legs. Yet, he never loosened his grip.

"Already have," he whispered, his voice husky. You felt his smirk against your shoulder blades and for a moment you thought he would begin kissing you again. But, as you reached for another pillow, his arms released from around you.

You got up from the bed and walked out of his room, his scent clinging to your clothes. You stopped to glance at Jungkook and Jimin who stood by the door, wide eyed at what they witnessed. You could only imagine what it looked like to them: Yoongi pulling you onto the bed and kissing you as you playfully tried to push him away.

"I see why no one likes waking him up."

The two boys awkwardly nodded and walked into Yoongi's bedroom, shutting the door behind them.

You couldn't help but laugh slightly at the boy's assumptions before walking back towards your bedroom at the end of the hall.

---

You hadn't spoken to your parents since before the night you and Yoongi met. You didn't call much due to the long distance charges to the US, but you figured you needed to update them about everything.

"Hello?" your mom answered the phone. "Sumi?"

"Hi mom," you said. "How's everything?"

"Good, busy as always. But, don't worry about us, how is my daughter?"

"Well, there's a lot that's happened since I talked to you last."

You explained the situation, careful not to tell your mom too much. You knew if you explained that you'd had a one night stand your mom would be disappointed and scold you. Despite being an ocean away in California, your mother still managed to make you feel like you were a fifteen-year-old again who got caught sneaking out.

"Oh, I'm so happy you finally got rid of Minki," your mother said. "I never liked him. And I can't wait to meet this soulmate of yours, what did you say his name was again?"

---

"Min Yoongi," Yoongi heard as he walked towards your room on the way to the bathroom. He stopped, noticing the small crack in your door. He wondered if you had managed to see him in the hallway, but as he approached he noticed that you were pacing around your room.

"No, mom, don't Google..." You sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose. "I get it, mom," you said laughing. "He's cute."

You didn't talk for a moment, but you cutely chewed on your bottom lip which made Yoongi want to replace your teeth with his own. He pushed back the thought as you spoke again.

"Well, we all agreed it would be best for me to move in with his band so that his career wouldn't be affected and I could continue working online or once things get better do in-person sessions."

You went silent again. Yoongi couldn't hear what your mother was saying because she was speaking so quickly.

"I know, mom," you said. "I'll be careful. The only trouble we've had has been with Minki. His fans don't know."

Yoongi's stomach turned. Guilt.

"At first, I wanted to go along with what the doctor's said and do the relationship, but I'm glad we didn't now. It may be harder for a while, but we barely knew each other and asking one another to put in effort to a relationship neither one of us wanted didn't make sense."

Despite your words being Yoongi's rationale, they felt so harsh coming from your mouth. He was glad the arrangement had become easier for you, but there was part of him that felt disappointed.

---

"How's grandma?" you asked, once your mom had finally calmed down about Yoongi. She had taken it better than you expected her to, however, you were slightly worried she was expecting grandchildren any day.

"Good," your mom answered. "The doctors say her treatment is going well. As they say, no news is good news."

You sigh, wishing you could be in the US with your family, but you stayed behind to go to school and by the time you finished, you already had a life you didn't want to leave in Korea. You visited as often as you and your parents could afford, but that was normally only at the holidays.

You had no siblings and many of your parent's siblings were also in the US or in Busan. Seoul was a lonely city, but you made it work.

"All right, well take care of her and yourself, okay, mom? And tell dad I miss him."

You ended the call after you both said your goodbyes. You sighed in relief at having finally explained the situation to your family, but you couldn't help the worry that formed in your stomach. You were normally able to suppress the constant worry about your grandmother, but every time you talked to your mom it always seemed to worsen.

---

Yoongi stepped away from your door once you hung up, so he wouldn't be discovered. He felt a small pang of guilt from eavesdropping, but your door was open and you had been talking about him. He pushed it away, knowing it really didn't matter.

He walked back to his studio and sat down at his desk, Jungkook and Jimin listening to their vocals. He wondered what was up with your grandma, while it didn't seem out of place to ask how she was doing, the way your brow had furled and the way you chewed your lip nervously made him think that there was something else going on.

"Yoongi?" Jimin asked, taking off his headphones. "Everything okay?"

Yoongi shook himself out of it.

"Yeah," he said. "Sorry, not awake yet."

---

"Sumi," Namjoon said, knocking politely on your bedroom door. "Do you want to come and help me work out some lyrics?"

You looked at the leader in somewhat disbelief, your eyes wide and your lips pursed.

"Me?" you asked. "Wouldn't one of the boys be better?"

"Maybe," he said. "But, it's not often we get a perspective of someone outside of the industry, and you've been in your room since you got back. I know it was tough to face your ex and thought you might like some company."

You smiled, Namjoon was so perceptive, you wondered if he could read your mind. You realized how much easier it would be if you were his soulmate instead of Yoongi's. Namjoon understood you and always seemed to know how to make you feel better.

"You can bring your project with you," he said, leaving towards his studio and leaving the door open for you.

You followed the leader to his studio, which had fewer obstacles to enter than Yoongi's. Although, once you entered it was largely similar. A simple design with a few decorations and various awards hung on the wall.

He pulled up a chair beside him and motioned for you to sit down beside him. You sat down and looked over all the equipment on his desk. A normal desktop with multiple monitors, other things you didn't recognize, like a machine with various knobs and switches, and a microphone.

You remembered seeing most of the same equipment in Yoongi's studio, except he had a keyboard he kept in the center of everything. The black and white keys almost taking over the room.

Namjoon opened up a notebook with various notes in it. You even noticed a few notes in English, making you smile and remember that the two of you shared the language in common.

"How'd you get into music?" you asked in English.

"I always liked music," he said, also responding in English. "I read a lot and eventually it translated into writing. I don't know, it all just kind of happened naturally."

You smiled, noting the way his face lit up as he talked about his passion, his dimples appearing on his cheeks.

"I understand," you said. "I always liked to teach people when they learned that I speak English. I should've charged when I was in high school for all the tutoring I did, but I enjoyed it enough that I didn't care."

"What about knitting?" he asked.

"I was always crafty," you said, laughing. "Whenever I visited my grandmother in the US, she always had a knitting project and she talked about how it calmed her, made her realize she had more control over her fate than she believed. She used to tell me stories about the Fates in Greek mythology and how knitting made her feel like one." You looked down at your project--a black hat. "So, whenever I feel out of control, I knit. Sometimes, I don't even know what I'm making until it's finished."

You quickly bound off the yarn and slapped the finished hat on Namjoon's head, giggling. You expected him to take it off immediately and hand it back, but instead, he used the nearest computer monitor to adjust it so it sat over his hair attractively.

"It looks nice," you said.

---

The two of you worked in comfortable silence, the hat you made still sitting on Namjoon's dyed hair. You'd started a new hat with the same black yarn. You wondered if he had a girlfriend to give it to. You and Minki always used to wear matching hats or scarfs or gloves. He took whatever you made him wholeheartedly. They were probably still sitting in the top drawer of his dresser. You wished you could unravel the yarn and turn them back into a tangled ball of string.

Namjoon would occasionally run a line past you or hum a melody without realizing. You even found yourself humming the same melody back to him and when you did, he always shot you a small smile.

"Let's see what fans think of my new hat," he said, taking a selfie with his phone.

"Wait! Don't post that! Won't they think you have a girlfriend or something?"

He gave you an odd look before looking down at the picture.

"Does Yoongi have you that paranoid? If anyone questions it, I'll just say a fan made it," he said. "Not exactly a lie."

Your shoulders slumped realizing the easy solution. It was true that since the shoe incident, you were scared to be visible in the boys' lives. Their careers meant more to them than it did to you. You could be an English tutor nearly anywhere and no one could take knitting from you, but their music could be taken from them. You didn't want to be the reason they lost their passions.

"Come on," he said. "I have to go run this past Yoongi. You're welcome to come along."

You followed Namjoon to Yoongi's studio, taking your yarn and knitting needles with you. Namjoon rang the doorbell to Yoongi's studio and you had to stop yourself from laughing at the ritual of it all.

Yoongi came and opened the door. He greeted Namjoon and while he seemed slightly surprised to see you, held the door open to you.

"She's great to bounce lyrics off," Namjoon said. "Surprised you haven't picked up on that yet."

You sat down on the couch in the back of the studio while the two boys discussed the lyrics and the song. You took the opportunity to go on Twitter, seeing the picture of Namjoon in the hat. All of the fans complimented him, telling him he looked cute and demanding he go to bed because it was late. You smiled, hoping that if the fans ever found out about you, they would have similar reactions.

You went back to knitting, but couldn't help and look up when you heard the sound of the piano. Yoongi was playing the melody Namjoon had been humming earlier and you were impressed by his ability to translate the hums into notes so quickly.

His fingers slide over the keys naturally--the keys an extension of his fingers--much like the needles you held. Yoongi was serious, but unlike his normal seriousness which was grumpy or sexy (depending on the day), this time he was focused. His lips slightly pouted and his body relaxed.

Music for him was the knitting to you. It was the creation that helped you escape yourself to feel the smoothness of the keys or the needles beneath your fingers and trust that something beautiful would come from it.

---

You had fallen asleep by the time Yoongi and Namjoon had finished; still occasionally moving your fingers, trying to knit in your sleep. Yoongi smiled, remembering the times he woke up in the studio seeing the notes he'd unknowingly composed while he was asleep.

"Do you want me to wake her up?" Namjoon asked.

"No," Yoongi said, shaking his head. "Let's not disturb her."

Namjoon nodded, grabbing his notebook and leaving the room. He closed the door softly so he wouldn't wake you.

Yoongi looked down at your sleeping form. It seemed he'd seen you sleeping nearly as much as he'd seen you awake since the first time you met. The night you spent together, you'd fallen asleep first, cuddling into his side. Normally, he wasn't the cuddling type, at least not with a girl he'd just met, but seeing the lipstick smeared across your pouty lips and your tangled hair spread out across the pillow, he hadn't been able to resist.

He grabbed your knitting needles and yarn, setting them on the edge of his desk, within your sight so you could easily find them in the morning. It wasn't the first time he'd moved your knitting needles, for something you loved so much, you often left them laying around. Yoongi opened the bottom drawer of his desk where he kept a blanket for when his studio was cold or when he fell asleep while working.

He covered your form before shutting off the light and leaving the room quietly.

57 notes · View notes

heytherejulietx · 4 years

Note

For the writing prompts could you do 16 and 17 with jughead and make it fluff? I love your writing by the way!!!!😁😁

Rain ~ Jughead Jones

Masterlists

Requests are OPEN

Notes - This one was SO FUN to write! Thank you so much for requesting it! And thank you love, I really hope you enjoyed this one too. ❤️

Warnings - None.

Word count - 1.6k.

Prompts -

“You’re freezing!”

“Come here.”

Y/N hated the rain. She could never understand people who liked it. Rain was just more of a nuisance. It seeped into your shoes and got your socks wet, it dripped past the collar of shirts so cold water was dripping down your back, and it was always so extremely cold.

As if the universe was out to spite her, Y/N always happened to be out in the rain. Her parents didn't drive, so she had to walk everywhere. Ending in her often getting caught out in the rain if she had to be somewhere.

On a cold Saturday afternoon, when most people were huddled inside out of the torrential rain that was pouring over Riverdale, Y/N found herself walking through the town on her way back from lunch at Pop's. If she'd had known at the time how bad the weather would be that afternoon, she'd have eaten at home. But the morning had actually been pretty sunny, so of course she hadn't thought twice about it.

Another product of her thinking that it was going to be a nice day weather wise meant she didn't have a coat, or a jacket, or literally anything that would protect her from the rain. Just a jumper that wasn't very waterproof at all, and a pair of jeans. The rain had seeped through her clothes to the point where it felt like she was in a freezer due to the wet and cold. She couldn't feel the ends of her fingers, the digits looking way too pale than normal. And to make it worse, the water had managed to get into her shoes to wet her socks, too.

By the time she'd reached Elm street, she'd started shaking from the cold. Her house was still pretty far away, and honestly she'd probably just freeze to death if she went much further - or that's what it felt like, anyways. So she couldn't help her gaze wander down the street to land on the Cooper-Jones residence. Both Betty and Jughead were best friends of hers, so no matter who was home, she was hoping she'd be let in.

One hand lifted to run through her dripping wet hair as her other lifted to ring the doorbell a few times, then bang on the door a little for good measure. Clearly she was impatient.

Jughead had been the one to open the door. He took one glance at her drenched and shaking appearance before his eyebrows furrowed and he gently pulled her inside by her forearm.

"You look terrible." He observed, causing her to roll her eyes.

"Thanks, nice to see you too." Y/N responded sarcastically, still shaking a little as she hugged her damp jumper a little closer to her body. "Um, is it okay if I camp out here for a little? My house is still a bit away, and I'm gonna get hypothermia if I walk the rest of the way."

"Yeah, no problem." Jughead nodded, walking a little further into the house as he spoke, Y/N trailing a little behind him. "Do you want anything to eat or something?"

"No that's okay." She shook her head a little with a small smile, crossing her arms as the shaking continued.

That time when Jughead turned around to face her, he noticed the small quivers across her body and frowned. His hand reached out to touch one of hers, frowning in concern when his warm fingers met her icicle-like ones. "You're freezing!"

"Really? I didn't notice." Y/N shot back sarcastically, just meeting Jughead's unamused gaze.

"Do you want to go and change into something else? I've probably got something that'll fit you, it might just be a little big." Jughead offered with a small smile.

"If you don't mind." Y/N smiled, watching as Jughead just shook his head.

"No problem, I'll just grab you something." The boy gently touched her upper arm before disappearing upstairs, leaving her stood in the lounge.

Y/N noticed that other than Jughead, no other noises could be heard. She was guessing that everyone else was out doing one thing or another, which in a way was good. Not that she didn't like spending time with Jughead's family, but his little sister was convinced that they both liked each other, and the constant teasing was getting a little annoying.

The girl was dragged from her thoughts when Jughead had come back downstairs, a pile of clothes balanced in one hand. "Here, I'll be in the living room when you're done." He smiled as he handed her the clothes, before turning to head into the living room to give her time to get changed.

Jughead had been wrong, because the clothes weren’t just a little big. They were a lot big. The long-sleeved navy blue shirt that he’d given her had sleeves that fell down past her hands, ending up in her rolling the sleeves up a little. And the pair of grey sweats that had gone along with it had the drawstring pulled and tied pretty tightly to keep them up. But she didn’t mind all that much. It wasn’t the first time that she’d worn an item of clothing from Jughead - and quite honestly, whether she’d admit it out loud or not, she liked it. There was a sense of comfort in wearing his clothes that she just couldn’t describe. The smell and fabric had such a familiar sensation of her best friend that it was almost calming, and she definitely liked that.

Jughead looked up at her when she’d walked back into the living room, his lips almost immediately curving up into an entertained smile.

“Don’t,” She warned him, her own smile creeping up on her. “I already know they’re huge.”

“I didn’t say anything.” Jughead chuckled as he shook his head, before his gaze softened somewhat as she took in her posture - arms hugging to her body a little. “Still cold?”

Y/N nodded. Whilst she wasn’t shaking anymore, she was still pretty chilly.

Jughead shuffled over a little where he was sat on the sofa and held an arm out, smiling as he offered, “Come here.”

A smile made it’s way to her face as she walked over, taking a seat beside him before tucking herself against his side, her legs tucked underneath her thighs to keep her warm. Almost immediately she felt the heat radiating from his own body, relaxing against him as his arms moved around her.

“Christ, you’re like a block of ice.” Jughead commented as he rested his cheek against the top of her head, keeping her held close to himself.

“That rain felt like it was ice. It’s so cold out there.” Y/N complained, her eyes falling shut as she breathed in his comforting scent. Soon enough her own arms wound around his middle as she felt herself start to warm up.

“Here.”

Y/N almost complained when Jughead briefly pulled away, though couldn’t help but smile when she watched the raven-haired boy take his signature beanie off of his head and place it on her own, adjusting the sides so that the wool of the hat would cover her cold ears.

“Thank you.” She smiled softly, tilting her head just enough to look up at him.

Jughead was smiling too, though his eyes were a lot more intense than it had previously been. She watched his gaze flickered from hers down to her lips before straight back up again, and before she could make the connection with her brain of what that meant, he’d leaned forwards and cupped the side of her face in his hand as he pressed his warm lips against her cold ones.

It felt like all of the air had been knocked out of her lungs from pure shock. In a good way, though. There was something so amazing about kissing him, but she just couldn’t describe it. It felt so right. Her own hands lifted to gently rest along his sharp jawline as she leaned a little closer to him, smiling into the kiss.

It lasted a little too short for her liking, though she almost melted at the adorable smile and blush he wore once he’d pulled away. Only then did she realise that she pretty much had the same expression - feeling a familiar burn in her cheeks and the uncontrollable curve upwards at the corners of her lips.

“You’re absolutely adorable.” Jughead mumbled as he wrapped his arms around her again, his smile widening.

“Shut up.” She whispered jokingly in defence, still smiling widely as she felt him lean his head against the top of hers once more.

“I just kissed you and you’re telling me to shut up? Rude.” Jughead teased, grunting a little through his chuckle once Y/N had elbowed him in the ribs.

“Maybe I wanted to enjoy the moment without you talking and ruining it.” She joked with a quiet giggle, feeling him shake with quiet laughter as his hold on her tightened somewhat.

“Whatever, still rude.” He huffed in mock offence before dropping a kiss to the top of her head.

Y/N relaxed against him as her eyes closed like before. “Guess it wasn’t such a bad idea going out now, huh?”

“Maybe not.” Jughead mused. “I won’t kiss you again if you get sick, though.” He joked.

“Fine.” Y/N giggled again, smiling a little wider. “Just do it now to make up for it, then.”

230 notes · View notes

angelicmark · 4 years

Text

pairing: stoner!haechan x reader

genre: angst, smut, fluff?

warnings: unprotected sex, sad, weed? kinda (there’s no explicit detail but there’s implied use)

wc: 5.4k

summary: all he ever does is smoke weed, and stay around his friends. never putting you first, or considering how you feel. how much longer could you take the torture?

➣ apart of the narcissistic lovers series

↳ masterlist

your heart was beating wildly in your chest. you were running on emotions at this point, eagerly waiting for him to just.. text. call. anything. but he doesn’t. and you’re left with the same feeling you’re always left with. disappointment, anger, frustration. did he not care anymore? did he not want you anymore? did he ever want you?

you look at your phone, the time mocking you as your vision gets blurred with tears all over again. how were you going to fix this? you couldn’t. it wasn’t your problem to fix. if he didn’t want you, what more could you do? he was selfish, thinking of himself, and only himself. but you kept waiting. waiting on the day where you thought he would just.. change. but he didn’t. he wouldn’t. he won’t.

so why did you stay?

a ping surrounds the room just as you’re starting the doze off the sleep, and you read the message in front of you.

hyuck: sorry, got caught up in smthing. here now. what’s up?

you heave out a sigh, leaving him on read that night. you were too exhausted to give a proper response. you knew it wouldn’t change anything even if you did respond. you knew he was getting high with his friends, ignoring your texts like they were some type of disease. your heart aches, chest tightening as you fall asleep that night with an anxious mind and flooded eyes.

you end up going three days of not speaking to him, reminiscing on the feeling he gave you.

day 1

“you’re my tutor?” the male asks, and you raise an eyebrow at him, “i’m donghyuck, but you can call me hyuck.”

you nod your head in understanding, “i’m y/n.” you take sight of his appearance and the slight sluggish look in his posture. you smile a bit, his hair was sticking up in random directions but you found it slightly charming. you knew about him and his antics, but you didn’t exactly care much for it. “and, yes, i’m your tutor.”

he nods, “cool.” he plops next to you, the reserved area of the library just for the two of you. he looks at you, and just now starts to realize just how pretty you were. he snorts to himself, and you look at him with a questioning look. “of course you’re pretty with a brain, why wouldn’t you be?”

you look towards the table with hollow eyes, blinking once, twice, before looking back at him again. he was yawning, not even looking at you anymore. you don’t mention his comment, pulling out your textbook and demanding he takes his out too. he follows your orders, but not without a grunt of disapproval. you smile to yourself softly, only for you to know about of course. you made sure of that. he wasn’t your type, not by a long shot. but you couldn’t help but find that he was still somewhat cute. his hair was a dark color, black locks covering his eyes. he needed a haircut, but it didn’t look like he cared much for it.

two hours of constant studying, and you start to realize just how.. smart he actually was. you hum, “you don’t need my help, donghyuck.” his eyes whip in your direction as yours stay focused on the work in front of you.

“i said you could call me hyuck,” he clicks his tongue, watching as your eyes trail over the material. he sees the small smile on your face.

“i know,” you shrug. you stretch a bit, back leaning into the chair as you raise your arms up, finally looking away from the suffocating words in front of you. you glance at him, seeing how he stared you down from his spot. you smile softly again, lips quirked up. “i’ll start calling you hyuck once you make yourself worthy of being my friend. right now, you’re tossing everything aside like it doesn’t matter. and i don’t know if there’s some broken memory filtering your brain but, whatever it is, it doesn’t matter as much as your future. you’re capable, you just don’t find yourself worthy enough for it.”

his jaw ticks, looking at you with an annoyed expression. he tuffs, “you high class girls really do have it easy, don’t you? you think i don’t know that?” he glowers, but you don’t budge even the slightest. “i just don’t want to waste my life with shit that doesn’t even fucking matter.”

you nod, moving to close your textbook. you don’t make much noise, no expression readable on your face. and hyuck wants to sit there with no regrets, but why does his heart hurt so bad? why did your words strike him so damn hard? why was his chest tightening as you continued to clean up your pencils and books? he watches you with silent eyes, his throat closing up as he gulps.

“i can’t change your mind, donghyuck.” you state, and the look on your face isn’t an expression of care. there’s no emotion, no remorse, no regret. you were emotionless, like some kind of robot. “i don’t expect to. i know you’ve probably heard those words a million times, but maybe my millionth-and-one time would have probably knocked some sense into you.” you shrug, tugging on your bag as you stand up. “i see i was wrong. don’t bother coming if you’re not going to use up the information usefully.”

and you walk out. there wasn’t any emotion lacing your voice, no glint in your eyes. why should he take advice from someone who wasn’t passionate about it either? why were you fucking with his head so damn much?

the next session, hyuck arrives five minutes later than usual. but, this time, he has a paper in his hand and a soft red gleam on his cheeks. you stare at him, watching as he marches in your direction with an almost embarrassed face. he looks annoyed, embarrassed, and maybe even proud. he slams the paper down on the table. your eyes don’t falter over the perfect score he places in front of you.

“see? i can fucking do it.” he huffs, plopping in the seat next to you. you glance at him, and he wants to say he’s surprised by the lack of expression but he’s not. he figured as much.

“i never said you couldn’t,” you slide the paper back on his side of the table. he watches with curious eyes, eyebrow raised in your direction. “i just said you weren’t making yourself worthy enough.” you don’t say anything else, silence falling over the both of you. and he’s sat there, shocked. he wants to storm right out, never speak to you again. but, for some reason, he appreciates your brutal honesty. everyone else was careful around him, treating him like he wasn’t capable enough. but you knew he was, unlike everyone else. was he sick for liking your careless attitude towards him? you didn’t care much for him or what he did. he should hate you. but he doesn’t. and he can’t.

you were right, afterall. you were always right. always the top of the class, never once faltering. you were like a machine at this point, everyone wondered if you even made time for the real world. you were just as good at reading people as you were with your class work. he’s known you since elementary school, all the way up to now in college. he’s not sure how he managed to stay here all the way to his second year, but he did. and if it wasn’t for the sudden appearance you made, he probably would have dropped out. how the hell were you motivating him so much?

“a ‘good job’ would have been nice too, you know,” he leans back in his chair, crossing his arms as he let’s out fake disappointment. he wasn’t used to the air feeling so intense, he couldn’t stand it anymore.

“you don’t need it, you’re not a dog,” you roll your eyes, writing down your assignments lightning fast, “if praise was what you wanted out of this, you’re not getting it. and i’m not apologizing.” you didn’t even look at him once. not a single glance, no reassurance. “i was hired to tutor you, not praise you for work i knew you could probably do in your sleep.”

he swallows, and there’s that random tightening in his chest again. he watches you work your pretty little heart out, he can practically feel the wheels in your brain turning out of exhaustion. he noticed the small circles under your eyes from the lack of sleep and food. he knew you didn’t eat or sleep much, too worried about keeping your scores up to care for yourself. why was a part of him worried for your health? he didn’t want to be, but he was.

“have you eaten?” he asks, staring at you as his arms stayed crossed, “you look like you need something to eat. you’re over worked, definitely.”

you freeze, looking up at him with a confused look that could easily be determined as annoyance. “why are you even asking? it’s neither of our jobs to care for one another.”

he nods, “yeah, but i don’t want you passing out anytime soon because you’re stuck tutoring some idiot like me.” he gets up, “let’s get something to eat.” he expects you to reject him, swat him away and demands he sits the fuck back down. he expects the same emotionless expression he always gets. he expects you to harshly turn him down, just like every other time. he expects you to shut him down immediately.

but, you don’t. this time, you finally don’t. he watches as you nod curtly, shoving your supplies back into your bag with not much of a quirk of your lip. but he sees the small smile, and he’ll remember this moment for the rest of his life. surely, he’ll remember the day he got you to stick your head out of your books and eat with him. he’ll remember the small smile you made before eating a decent amount of ramen. he’ll remember.

surely, he’ll remember.

day one of not speaking to hyuck was torture, but also nothing much new happened. he didn’t text you, didn’t wonder why you weren’t texting him anymore. he didn’t say a single thing after his last text, and you were silently dying inside. you hated that hyuck could tear you apart so easily, without even trying. but, maybe that was why he was tearing you apart. he wasn’t trying. not for you, not for himself.

you were hurting. you were so used to being stuck in a whirlwind of nothing, so used to feeling nothing. so when you finally felt something, anything, it came crashing down on you a million times worse than when you last remember. you surrounded yourself with yourself and your own memories over the years, never needing anyone else. but when hyuck came along, it was like that all changed. and you wanted to curse him for it. wanted to scream in his face and tell him how he fucked everything up for you. but you couldn’t. you couldn’t bring yourself to hate him. couldn’t bring yourself to yell at him, tell him he ruined you.

was this love? was this what love felt like? did you really love him so much to the point where you’d let him tear you up like this? maybe you did. maybe you did love him that much. would it make any difference in the world if you even told him? of course not. it wouldn’t matter if you were to scream in his face that you loved him, that you cared for him. so you didn’t. you never will. especially not after the torture he’s put you through. nothing will ever fix this. not even a love confession. nothing.

absolutely nothing.

day 2

“you’re actually quite mean,” hyuck pouts at you. you take a bite of your ice cream that he bought you, swallowing it with grace. everything you ever did was filled with grace, nothing less than that. over the past few months, hyuck had gotten the opportunity to get to know you and how you handled things. and, over time, he soon got over how blunt your personality could get. well, as much as he could at least.

“i’m honest.” you state. and you know you’re not wrong. he knows you’re not wrong.

“you could be a bit nicer about it,” he mumbles under his breath. the two of you had actually gotten quite... close, persay. as close as you would let him, at least. the closest anyone had ever gotten to you before, and he prides himself in it. the two of you were opposites, but he brought you out of the hard shell you lived in. and you kept him grounded when he needed it. you would always whip him right back into shape. he didn’t need words of encouragement when he had you, as cliché as it sounded.

you sit in thought, before humming, “i would rather someone be honest than nice to me. i treat others how i would expect to be treated.” holy fuck, were you always that cold? of course you were.

he nods, shrugging his shoulders, “i guess that makes sense.” he has nothing else to say. you always manage to take his breath away and win every argument. this wasn’t exactly an argument, more like a debate. either way, you would always win. he knew this. and he was sure you did too.

silence washes over the two of you, and it wasn’t in the slightest uncomfortable. he was used to your quiet nature, he was always the one the initiate anything around you. not that he minded. he actually quite liked it. you weren’t too suffocating, never too much. sometimes he thought of you as never giving enough of yourself, but he figured that was just the price of being around you. you would never let your guard down, no matter what. you were strong.

“i like you.” he blurts, and he’s so fucking embarrassed. his cheeks run hot and he covers his mouth with wide eyes. he sees the shock and surprise you let grace your features. he caught you by surprise. he got to see the way your eyebrows raised, the way your eyes popped out larger than normal, the way your breath caught in your throat. it was so much more than the expressionless emotion he normally got. he was proud, but the embarrassment overruled the pride.

and, suddenly, you’re giggling. you’re fucking giggling, and his heart gets sent into the clouds. he feels like he’s in heaven when the noise escapes past your lips, and your vocal cords come into action and your mouth falls into a pretty smile. you were striking. the sun was glowing on your face, and he felt like he was in some kind of stupid romance movie. your teeth flashed through his mind, your chuckles filling up the previously silent air. who knew you could be even more beautiful? who knew he could produce such a sound out of you?

your smile reaches your eyes as you stare at him, “look who’s being blunt now.” and the smirk you have on your face makes him almost pass out. he was overwhelmed.

he coughs, latching and unlatching his fingers together out of nervousness, “i mean... sorry. that was really fucking sudden.” he drops his head in his hands, avoiding eye contact. the heat on his face was insufferable at this point.

you tilt your head, looking at him curiously. did you possibly like him too? you weren’t sure what certain levels a crush held, you even used to have to look it up but the signs never matched when you were around someone. but, for some reason, he caught your eye. maybe you did like him. truth be told, you didn’t exactly run from emotions. you just didn’t really have them. they never developed into much more of what you were used to. so, meeting hyuck was a bit different. he had a lot of emotions. he was drowning in them. definitely not like you.

“me too,” you say, taking another bite of your melting ice cream. he shoots his head up as the blush creeps back and his eyes are as wide as ever. did he hear you right?

“huh?!” he tilts his head now, looking at you like a fish out of water. you laugh again, and his heart flutters heavily in his tight chest.

“me too, hyuck.”

it was your first time ever calling him that. he was surely going to pass out, definitely. yup. certainly. 100%. you fucking liked him?! you liked him!

he whips out his best smile, staring at you with bright eyes as he sees the way your own eyes start to sparkle even just a bit. but that was enough for him. more than enough. this moment was another one in the books. another he swore to remember for the rest of his life. he will never forget the smiles and laughs he got out of you that day. you were glowing that day, and he managed to get your number after that. you were still a bit closed off, but not as much as before. and he felt like he was winning an anonymous game. were you starting to trust him? he hoped so.

he really did.

you wash your laundry, clean up your living area, throw away the unnecessary items. you clean away everything and wash the clothes that smelt just like him. you were distracting yourself from the fact that you were ignoring him. you would ocassionally look at the pics he hung on your wall, insisting he put them there in case you ever forgot him. and you would end up finding yourself smiling a bit. he was such a dork, an overly sensitive dork.

but he was slipping through the cracks. and there wasn’t much you could do about it. he was ripping apart your relationship with him by not checking on you, not answering your texts or calls. you were blunt, sure. you didn’t know one thing about love or relationships, but you knew this wasn’t healthy. especially when you could feel your heart cracking at the mear thought of him. no, this surely wasn’t healthy.

you knew where he was, what he was doing. you could practically imagine him getting unimaginably high with his friends. and you didn’t care for his habits, no not one bit. he was allowed to do as he pleased. but why did he not care about you anymore? were you really that suffocating? were you too much? was this punishment? you believed if he really did love you, he would text you. call you. check in on you. but he never did.

and, that night, you don’t cry like usual. you lay in bed nostalgic as ever. but you don’t cry.

you just.. sleep. the memory of him slowly easing with pain.

day 3

kissing hyuck was like kissing a million different angels. you were in your own version of heaven. you could feel just how hot his cheeks were under your fingertips, and you smiled into the soft kiss you displayed. he wasn’t expecting such a sudden kiss, but you were surprising in more ways than one. he can’t read you. he would never be able to. but maybe that’s what he liked about you. so, the kiss eases into a slow entangle. and it’s not rushed, and he doesn’t eagerly pull you against him. it was like nothing you’ve ever felt before. you were used to guys ushering you into the kiss, immediately taking your tongue in their mouth’s. but he doesn’t. he waits for the swipe of your own tongue, asking for enterance. and he grants you with ease. and it’s sweet, soft, romantic even. was this a true crush? were these butterflies in your stomach normal? was this what everyone talked about? you were sure it was.

he pulls away first, staring at you with bright cheeks and glossy eyes. his lips were tinted red from your lip gloss, and you chuckle a bit. he was too cute, and the sunset was surely doing him justice. he had taken you on a date, not expecting much else from you than your normal emotionless state. but you surprised him minute by minute with the small smiles you would grant him. he was truly the luckiest man in the world, he was sure of it.

“what..” he pauses, clearing his throat as his hands stick on your waist like they were his anchor, “what made you do that?” his voice was slightly deeper, asking with a bright blush on the apples of his cheeks. and you smile at him brighter, your eyes glowing under the sunlight.

your fingers trail on the back of his neck, tugging at the nape of it and he feels shivers start to run through his body. “you’re cute. i wanted to kiss you.” you were honest, and he feels his ears starting to burn at the sudden compliment. you didn’t do that very often, in fact never. it was making him flustered.

“you are, too.” he mumbles, and he avoids eye contact, as if it was going to hide the deep blush that graced his pretty face. it traveled onto his nose a bit, and you placed a soft kiss there. he stares at you, his eyes a bit crossed from the close proximity. he can feel the heat starting to ease away a bit, but it was still present. you were truly adorable. damn it.

“you taste like..” you stand in thought, eyebrows scrunched a bit, “oranges. and honey.” you smile at him, and he can’t help the smile that reaches his own face. “i like it. i mean, it’s odd. but it’s surprisingly good, you know?” you snuggle into his chest, head resting there. he hums at you, tugging you closer. “you’re my boyfriend now, aren’t you?”

he chokes a bit, eyes wide as he laughs. “i mean, if you want me to be...?” he hoped you did.

“sure. i mean, i did just kiss you.” you were so warm against him, your voice echoing through his body and into his ears. you were so... gentle. surprisingly gentle. he felt his body start to tingle at the feeling of your touch, having you so undeniably close. you were a feeling he never wanted to let go of. he never wanted this to end.

“got a point there, smarty,” he kisses the top of your head. and you stand there longer than intended. and it’s nice. the silence isn’t strong, it isn’t suffocating. it isn’t intense and it isn’t too much. it’s just right.

it’s always just right with him. always.

you wipe at your cheeks, hot tears trailing down them. you may not have fallen asleep crying, but that didn’t mean this hurt any less than it did. you were still dying on the inside. still curling up in a small ball at the tiniest thought of him. he tore you apart. he was ruining you. why were you letting him? why the fuck did he get to do this to you?

he was making it seem so easy. so easy to forget you and act like you didn’t exist. how did things come to be like this? what did you do wrong? was this your fault? he brought unhealthy images in your head, unhealthy thoughts. and you hated him for it. well, you wanted to at least. but a small part of you still loved him, still cared for him.

day three of not talking to him. you planned on just ghosting him completely, healing at your own time. why did it matter if you talked to him? he never wanted to in the first place. maybe it would just be easier to... forget him. even if you knew you couldn’t. you could try, right?

but when you hear a knocking on your door, your heart jumps out of your chest. and you feel like you’re drowning all over again when you open the door to reveal the man that had taken up your whole entire being. you let him. you let him rule you, let him consume your brain until it was only filled with him. he brought pain, anger, frustration. but, at one point, he made you happy.

and, maybe that’s why you dragged him inside that night by his collar. kissing him like you missed him. kissing him like it was the last time you would ever get to. and you can feel the sweat on his palms as they trailed beneath your shirt, doing his best to shut the front door and tug off the offending fabric. and you kiss him. you kiss him like he’s all that mattered that moment. and he can feel the drying tears, even taste them on his tongue. and he hurts. and you hurt. you both hurt the size of everything.

words weren’t exchanged, the soft panting falling into the once silent room. your hands are in his hair, tugging them just like you know he loves. and he knows your body just as well as you know his. his kisses trail along your neck, being careful as to not leave a mark. he knows they annoy you sometimes. and when you both make it to the couch in the middle of your living room, he places you down gently. he looks into your eyes, and he gives you the fake promise of home. and you accept it for the meantime.

“i hate when you ignore me,” you let out, tugging his own shirt off as his hands fumble with your pants and slides them down your legs. he looks at you with sad eyes, and he knows. he knows he’s hurting you.

“i’m here,” he kisses you sweetly, and you return it with earnest. his fingers trail along your folds suddenly, and the gasp that leaves you makes his groin twitch. you were so intoxicating in his eyes. why couldn’t he show you that? why was he so fucking afraid? “you’re wet,” he hums, biting on your shoulder, “missing me that much?”

you nod, your fingers starting to dig into his arms, “yes. always.”

and he pulls back to look at you, sees how your eyes look at him with an emotion he loves most. adoration. and he relishes in this moment, he swallows it whole. he remembers it, stocks it away for next time. he’s brought out of thought when he sees you innocently starting to tug on his pants, demanding they’re pulled down. he helps you, chuckling as you watch him with your bottom lip between your teeth.

“condom?” he asks, raising an eyebrow in question. but you shake your head.

“no, it’s fine,” you grab him and pull him close to you again, “want to feel you.” and he makes quick work to position the both of you comfortably. he stares down at you like you’re the only person he’ll ever love. and you assume he means it, just for that one small moment. and he kisses you while slipping into you, making you gasp into his mouth. and he loves the way you sound, the way you feel, the way you look. you were perfect.

and, for the time being, the both of you act like the world isn’t falling apart at your feet.

he thrusts into you easily, sitting still, “you’re tight. i never fuck you enough, do i?” he kisses your cheek, groaning when your walls flutter.

“never enough with you,” you hum, “please move, hyuck.” and he does. he does, because he wants to make up for lost time. he wants to show you that you really do mean something to him. and it’s not fucking this time, it’s like he’s cherishing your body the way he knows he should from now on. his hips switch from intense thrusting to rolling into you so you can feel just how deep inside of you he is. and it feels so fucking good. so, so good.

“you’re so... good, baby.” he huffs in your ear, and you whine at the rough tone. “always so good to me.” he pushes your leg over his shoulder, and you moan as he hits the sweet spongy spot inside of you that has you clutching even tighter onto him. each thrust makes you whine out his name, chanting it like it’s the only word you truly know. and he loves it. god, he loves it.

“hyuck, fuck.” your voice was getting louder and louder in his ear, and he can feel the way your walls were starting to grip him like a vice.

“gonna cum, angel?” he questions, and it’s so obvious with the way your nails were now trailing along his back. you were desperately holding onto him, in more ways than one. “you can cum, love when you cum around me.” he whispers, kissing the place right behind your ear.

“oh god,” you moan, and you can feel the coil inside of you snap, “hyuck, shit, oh fuck.” you bite your bottom lip, cumming around his cock like you were made to. and it’s such a sweet sight, such pretty sounds escaping you that it has him following his own sweet release. you feel his cum shoot into you, prolonging your own orgasm. it feels so good to have him so close, feel him fill you up with something that only belongs to him.

your fingers travel up to the nape of his neck again, running your hands through his soft hair. and he lays on top of you, not bothering to pull out just let. you can feel some of his cum dripping down your thighs and onto the couch, but you don’t mind. no, not at all. when he finally does pull out, he’s quick to run and get a wash cloth, just for you. and he cleans you. let’s you know he wants to take care of you.

but you know this is the end.

and it’s an unspoken ending. the both of you know it. the look in both of your eyes when they meet for the first time in a really long time. his were filled with regret, and yours were filled with remorse. the two of you were undeniably tearing one another down. there was no fixing this, no. never in a millon years.

“for what it’s worth,” you slip your own shirt over your head instead of his this time. and he notices this. “i do believe i love you. no past tense.”

he stares at you, eyes starting to water. did he really tear you up that much? of course he did. there weren’t many other words that needed to be spoken in that moment. the two of you were ending. it was an awaiting process, you both knew it would happen. but that didn’t mean it would hurt any less.

“i believe i love you, too.” he looks at you, his voice a bit shaky, “no past tense.”

and he dresses again. and you watch as he gets ready to leave. you kiss him one last time before you send him off forever. you stand there, your heart in your hands, kissing him one last time. the very last time. he hugs you before he leaves. before the door shuts and you’re both left to remember the good times, the bad times, all of the times.

when you pull back, you kiss his cheek, “thank you.” you whisper, and it’s so low that only the two of you would ever hear it. “you’ve taught me how to love. and now you’re teaching me how to let go. and i hope one day, we both heal.” you weren’t used to heavy emotions. but, when it came to hyuck, you couldn’t help yourself. you could never help yourself around him.

“me too,” he stares at you as his arms fall to his side, and so do yours. you were both oceans apart, even when standing right in front of one another. you guessed this was why the two of you could never work. “thank you.”

you smile softly, “bye, hyuck.”

he nods his head, the both of you with tear stained cheeks, “bye, y/n.”

and you close the door. the very, very last time. and you’re in love, but he’s not there. and he’s in love, but you’re not there. that was just the way it was.

the way it would always be.

when sadness was the sea, you were the one that taught me to swim.

you taught me how to be alone. and i learned my lesson, in your absence.

a/n: hope it was good!

1K notes · View notes

youwerenevermeanttofeelalone · 4 years

Text

Know Better | Sasuke Uchiha

✦ pairing — Sasuke Uchiha x Plus Size Reader

✦ word count — 7.7k

✦ Fake Dating & Modern AU

✦ request — I saw you write for Sasuke. I wanted to know if you can write something where he isn’t happy dating Sakura so he breaks up with her and recruits ps reader to fake date so Sakura doesn’t bother him anymore and reader wants to get rid of Shikamaru so she says yes and they fall in love while faking? something smutty at the end maybe? You can make it modern if you want

✦ warnings — light jealousy, mentions of food and alcohol, drama, nsfw, smut, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex (please don’t do this), fluff.

✦ a/n — is it too obvious that it was raining when I wrote this?

════════════════════════

A sudden thunder startled you, prompting you to look at the clock. It was almost time for you to leave the coffee shop. Hoping you could get home before the rainstorm hit, you hurried up.

You had to swallow a groan when you heard the front door open. You hated that damn bell. Lifting your head to take the order, you were greeted by a huff.

“I thought you would be on your way out already,” Sasuke stated blandly.

“My shift is over in ten minutes.” You made a pause, waiting for him to speak. When he only stared back, you asked, “Are you going to order?”

He shook his head. “I’ll wait for you outside.”

Not having a single clue as to why he would wait for you, and honestly not caring too much about it, you went on with the clean-up.

Sasuke and you were as close friends as two busy people could be. You didn’t share many classes, and he spent most of his free time with Sakura. Your free time was different than his, working and studying at the same left you with a small window of opportunities to enjoy yourself.

There was also the fact that busy or not, you avoided parties like the plague.

Sasuke was still outside when you were finally done, waiting for you with his arms crossed.

Upon seeing you, he made a gesture with his head for you to walk with him. Looking up at the sky, you shrugged, you wouldn’t make it home dry either way.

“So...” you trailed off, uncomfortable by his silence. You were used to it, yet there was something off-putting in his pace.

He halted his steps, taking his keys out. Unlocking the car, Sasuke opened the passenger door. “Get in.”

You wouldn’t say no to keeping yourself from getting soaked by the coming rain. Sliding your backpack off your shoulders, you got into the car, fitting the bag between your knees.

“Dinner?”

Putting the seatbelt on, you tilted your head to read his expression. You found a neutral one, which you should have expected. “Uh... sure.”

Humming, he ignited the engine.

Gripping the handle, you breathed in and out a couple of times, thinking he would be a reckless driver.

Sasuke wasn’t a careful driver by any means, he just wasn’t as extreme as one would imagine. Still, you were relieved when it was over.

He chose the table farther away from the other people at the diner, side-eyeing you to make sure. So unlike him.

“Is there a particular reason why we’re hanging out on a Friday night?”

He rested his back against the back of the chair. “Can’t I hang out with a friend because I’m nice?”

“... no?”

“I need your help,” he admitted through his teeth.

You took a sip of your beverage. “What’s up?”

“I need you to be my girlfriend.” Seeing your weirded out expression, Sasuke clarified, “Fake girlfriend.”

“People don’t need partners, and you have a girlfriend already.”

“Not since a couple of weeks ago.”

For someone who had just broken up with their high school sweetheart, he was way too calm.

He added, “I told her I liked you.”

“Why the hell would you say that?”

He shrugged. “It was the first thing that came to mind, but she keeps saying we can make it work.”

Now Sakura’s attitude towards you was starting to make sense. You had never been friends, but you considered her an acquaintance — she often visited Hinata, and the past weeks hadn’t been the exception.

However, she had stopped greeting you and when you passed the living room on your way to your bedroom she would glare at you. It was hard to blame her when her now ex-boyfriend had been such an asshole.

“Well, tell her I rejected you or something.”

“I’m sure Shikamaru would love to hear that.”

You tensed at Shikamaru’s mention.

Everyone said you should’ve been flattered, and you were at first. He was sweet and attentive, so interested in you that he had told you to take as much time as you needed. In your head, falling for him wouldn’t be too hard if you got to know him.

But he misread your intentions, and after the first date, he got overbearing.

Hinata found it extremely romantic, and Ino bluntly told you to be realistic because finding a guy as nice as him would be hard later on.

What bothered you the most was the tone in which your friends spoke as if this was your only chance to find someone who would like you. Their intentions might have been pure, but the implications behind their comments hurt.

Clearing your throat, you licked your bottom lip. “For how long?”

“Until they get the hint.”

Entering a relationship out of nowhere sounder more like a slap on the face than a hint. Sasuke had never been subtle, though.

The rain had intensified by the time you came out of the restaurant.

Sasuke drove more carefully this time, frustrated to no end due to the traffic but more carefully.

The moment he parked, he stopped you from getting out of the car, holding your forearm. “Invite me in.”

“Why?”

“It’s raining and you don’t want me to get in an accident.”

“Who said that?”

He glared at you. Glaring back, you waited for a good explanation which he didn’t seem to have. He was just being petty, nothing new.

Defeated, you let out a sigh. “Hurry up, then.”

He bolted out of the car, grimacing as the water fell onto him. You walked past him, greeting the security guard of the building as you brushed water off your eyes.

Sasuke was beside you in seconds to eventually follow you into the elevator.

“Give me that.” He took your backpack off your grasp before you could swing it over your shoulder.

Protesting would have been a waste of time. You were tired.

Struggling to take your keys out of your jean pocket, inwardly chastising yourself for still giving those tiny things use, you found yourself hoping he wouldn’t mock you.

He didn’t. He stood still, silently, only shifting when the doors opened and one of your neighbors entered the elevator.

Finally, after two more stops, you arrived at your floor. You didn’t mind how tall the building was, nor the fact that Hinata had chosen the second to highest floor — the only thing you found bothersome were the constant stops at the elevator; the stairs were a nightmare too, and your shoes were wet.

Sliding the key in, you felt his hand on your back, encouraging you to open the door. He must have known Sakura was there. It was kind of fucked up, honestly.

“You had me worr—“ Hinata cut herself off, blinking rapidly to hide her shock.

Trying your hardest to avoid looking at Sakura, you focused on Hinata’s worried face. “Sorry, I should’ve told you I would be late.”

He greeted Hinata and Sakura with a nod, sliding the hand on your back up to your shoulder only to place his free one on your other shoulder too, hoping you would get the hint.

You felt his touch get lighter as you made your way toward your bedroom until you let him get in first and he got his hands off you.

Sasuke put your backpack down, resting it against the foot of the bed. You closed the door, watching him curiously look around.

He had never been there. You hadn’t started living with Hinata until a couple of months ago when she told you she was looking for a roommate.

Sasuke had visited your family’s home dozens of times, mostly in middle school and the first year of high school, back when he was more abrasive. Your mom often said he found refugee in your room because you never forced him to speak.

But your mom had been wrong many times. Unconsciously, you shook your head. You were only upsetting your own self thinking about times that would never come back. She had left years ago.

The voices in the living room mingled with the sounds of the rain, you caught bits and pieces of the conversation. Your name was mentioned once, but you didn’t get the context. Not that you needed it.

Your opinions of Sakura weren’t strong, you didn’t dislike her at all but that wasn’t saying much when you didn’t really know her. From what you had heard, which varied depending on who was talking, she wasn’t so bad.

She probably hated you now so caring would be stressing yourself over things you couldn’t fix.

“Why didn’t you choose someone else? Many people would happily do it.”

“They would be annoying.”

Wow. That was almost a compliment.

To be fair, he seemed to attract overbearing people who didn’t get no for an answer.

And now you would also have to put up with those people. Or maybe not, he was way more popular around campus than you were and this wasn’t high school anymore.

He yawned, squeezing his eyes shut to then immediately open them and blink rapidly.

“You can lay down if you’re tired,” you assured him.

“I don’t like cuddling.”

“I didn’t ask you to cuddle me nor intended to cuddle you.”

“Ah.” He rubbed the back of his head, avoiding to look at your face. “The rain is slowing down either way.”

It sounded like it was. Urging him to go before the rain got worse would surely be rude, then again, he didn’t seem to take offense over most things.

You didn’t have to tell him. He pushed himself up, staring at you. You only stared back, assuming he would say something.

He dropped his hand onto the doorknob, twisting it and pulling the door open. You followed him toward the front door, somewhat confused.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said lowly, still audible to Hinata and Sakura.

You nodded. “Be safe, yeah?”

Humming, he got closer to you. “I’ll text you when I get home.”

Breathily, aware of his body heat as it felt like it was burning your skin, you told him, “Please.”

Sasuke placed his lips on yours, giving you a short kiss — so short you weren’t able to kiss his soft lips back.

He left without saying goodbye to Hinata and Sakura. The gesture, or lack thereof, made you more uncomfortable than it should have.

Sakura’s eyes, full of hurt and resentment, weren’t what made you feel bad — Hinata’s disappointed face did.

════════════════════════

Going out to the movies with friends was better as a mere concept than in practice. Hinata said it would be fun, that they had waited for you to be free to finally see that movie.

You weren’t close to most of the group, they were all nice in their own way, you supposed, but the truth was you had never clicked with anyone but Hinata and Ino.

Hinata came to a halt in front of Naruto and Shikamaru, arm linked with yours as she smiled at her boyfriend and friend. You greeted them too, trying to take your arm off Hinata’s grasp.

“We can have a double date now,” Naruto said teasingly.

“We wouldn’t want Shikamaru to feel like a third wheel.”

As usual, after one of your remarks, Naruto pouted at you while Shikamaru let out a loud sigh. You almost felt bad because this time the quip was true.

An arm wrapped around your upper back, tugging you to the other side. Hinata finally let your arm go.

“Sorry I’m late,” Sasuke apologized, lips brushing your temple as he explained to you that Itachi had made him lose time.

As he left a kiss on your temple, you angled your head to take a look at him. The corners of his mouth twitched upward for a millisecond.

Naruto, being Naruto, couldn’t stop himself from loudly asking, “Am I missing something?”

“It’s pretty obvious,” Sasuke deadpanned, “so no, you are not.”

You didn’t look at any of your companions. Hinata hadn’t said anything to you the night before after Sakura left, and while you were getting ready she avoided the topic purposefully.

Feeling smaller than you were, you leaned onto Sasuke before thinking what you were doing. His arm draped over your shoulder as he slid his forearm up to the back of your neck, bringing you slightly closer.

Silence lingered between the group.

“Should we buy the tickets and wait for the others there?” Hinata tried to ease the tension.

Her attempts were in vain. Naruto failed to hide his shock when Sasuke said the two of you would buy the snacks. And no one would ever think he was at fault when the last time Sasuke had been openly attentive had been when he took Kiba to the hospital after breaking his nose with a football.

With Sasuke at your left and Shikamaru at your right, you found yourself wishing the film was over already. It hadn’t even started yet.

“Oh.”

You didn’t have to turn to the side to know the one who had shrieked was Sakura who was accompanied by Ino. One of them stepped on your foot, prompting Sakura to feign an apologetic tone when you let a sound close to a whine escape as she sat down sandwiched between Shikamaru and Ino.

Sasuke placed his hand on your knee. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” You held the straw between your fingers, leaning to take a sip, drinking slowly.

He didn’t take his eyes off you until the movie started, not even to eat. Part of you assumed he was looking at Shikamaru or Sakura and not at you.

You felt him inch his hand up to your thigh. With his free hand, he removed the popcorn from his lap and placed it on the floor.

He moved the drink you were sharing to the cup holder to his left. Taking the hint, you lifted the armrest separating you.

Withdrawing his hand to swing his arm over you as you barely rested your head on him, he gazed down at you. Taking your attention back to the screen, hoping you hadn’t missed anything important, you allowed him to push your head onto his chest.

He smelled good, fresh and clean with something new there. He must’ve had been wearing a different cologne.

If you knew something about Sasuke was that he liked consistency. He wasn’t one for experimenting once he liked something — his haircut hadn’t changed since he was thirteen, his clothing style —which seemed to be inspired by his brother’s— had been the same since the beginning of high school, and he had only dated one person even though thousands swarmed around him.

“I’m bored,” he whispered.

Shifting to speak closer to his ear, you whispered back, “You picked this movie.”

He ignored your comment. “Kiss me.”

Holding his face with your right hand, you lifted your head off his warm coat. Sasuke allowed you to take your time, frowning under the flashing lights from the screen when you started to analyze his face.

Blinking rapidly, letting out a shaky breath, you closed the gap between your mouths. He reciprocated instantly, curling his arm around you so you wouldn’t move.

It was slow, calculated on his behalf which annoyed you. It was a kiss, for show or not, it was just a kiss and he still had to make sure it was perfect.

And it was. His lips shouldn’t have been that soft, and he had no business being such a good kisser. Sasuke’s hand, light on your plush waist, sent shivers down your spine due to its coldness.

You deepened the kiss, sliding your hand to the back of his head.

Fuck. Why were you so willing to make out with him?

════════════════════════

School was a nightmare on Monday, people stared at you without blinking and double-checked whether you had really arrived with Sasuke or not.

Overwhelmed by questions that followed you to every class and even to work, you also had to put up with Sakura’s glare and Shikamaru’s hurt semblance.

Your assumptions had naively been that things would simmer down yet you had never felt regret quite like this.

Nothing would have mattered if Ino hadn’t taken things so badly. She wasn’t speaking to you, that was how mad she was. Your best friend didn’t have the decency to explain why your ‘relationship’ with Sasuke bothered her so much that she felt the need to stop talking to you for three weeks straight.

Hinata had been about to tell you something a particular Saturday, but she seemed to think it was useless and after asking you to be careful, she left the apartment with Naruto.

Your cellphone dinged. Cringing at the sound, you silenced it and then unlocked the device to read the text.

Are you busy? I’m bored.

Sasuke was always bored, you would’ve guessed it without him stating the obvious.

I’m watching TV.

That’s a no, then. Get out of your pajama, I’ll be there in 20.

How the hell did he know you were wearing pajamas?

What should I wear, dad?

Kinky. Casual clothes. But wear comfortable shoes, I don’t want to hear you complain.

Heat crawled up your face, prompting you to exhale at a slow pace. Dropping the cellphone onto the couch, you walked toward your room.

To your surprise, he wasn’t wearing a shirt and a coat. Instead, he sported a plain t-shirt and a bomber jacket.

It wasn’t that the outfit didn’t suit him, it did, but you needed a few minutes to get used to the style. He glared at you when he caught you staring which made you deviate your eyes to the car.

Nodding, he opened the door for you. Relieved that he hadn’t snapped at you for checking him out, you entered the car in silence.

“Do you watch a lot of TV?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He reformulated, “Are you a television buff?”

“Eh. I don’t have enough time to watch much.”

His only answer was a hum.

Bowling. He took you bowling. The thing he knew you were so bad at that every time your friends suggested the activity you found an excuse to skip.

He looked so smug, draping his arm around your shoulders as a teasing boyfriend would to their partner.

You let out an annoyed sigh, not shying away from letting him know he had achieved the amusement he had been seeking.

“I’ll teach you,” he assured lowly.

You picked the shoes you were given, trying not to make a face. Thanking the clerk, who wasn’t at fault for the horrendous style of the shoes nor for how petty Sasuke got to be, you walked toward the bench.

He sat down beside you, undoing his sneakers.

“Why did you make me wear comfortable shoes when I would have to put on these ugly things anyway?”

“I forgot.”

Inserting both your names on the computer, he nodded upward so you would pick a ball.

You looked for his approval, fitting your fingers in a red ball and lifting it as you stared at him.

“Is that comfortable for you?”

“Yeah.”

He got closer to you, settling his hand on your upper arm. “You need to relax your muscles, otherwise you’ll hurt yourself.”

Nodding, you wetted your lips. Why did they feel so dry? “Now what?”

“Try to score more points than me.”

Asshole.

At least you had a good time.

════════════════════════

There you were, smiling at people as you gave them their orders and offering to take over when your coworker was struggling with the espresso machine.

Sasuke had pushed the thought of his assignment to the side, too busy watching you rearrange cups. It was soothing to see, an activity so mundane yet so important to your job.

“Stop staring at her,” Naruto chastised. “It’s creepy.”

“I can stare as much as I want.”

“I wasn’t talking to you,” the blond mumbled, motioning with his head at Shikamaru who had twisted his body to give you all his attention.

Sasuke glowered at his best friend, then at Shikamaru. He stared at you again, watching you disappear behind the door that led to the back. Annoyed, he threw his books into the backpack and closed his laptop.

Both men in front of him curiously stared. Ah, so now they wanted to pay attention, huh.

Standing up, he swung the backpack onto his left shoulder. As if on cue, you stepped out of the kitchen, apron-less and struggling to zip your jacket. When you finally achieved it, your eyes found his.

Approaching him, pursing your lips, you fixed the uneven string of his hoodie with both hands. A twinge of red appeared on his cheeks, yet he didn’t push you away.

“Where’s your bag?”

“Hinata took it with her.”

Sasuke hummed, staring past your shoulder. “We should get going.”

Nodding, you motioned for him to lead the way. He grabbed your hand, dragging you out of the shop before you could say goodbye to Naruto and Shikamaru.

He walked mindlessly, passing the spot where his car was parked. His fingers squeezed yours, trapping them in between.

“Where are we going?”

“I don’t know.”

You stayed silent. He was clearly in a bad mood, and you weren’t going to coddle him into talking about it. He would never do it either way.

The walk was nice, the silence he had forced you into added to the enjoyment. The city was busy, always, no matter the time, and you could hear bits and pieces of conversations and songs as you passed different businesses.

He huffed. “Why do you even work at a coffee shop?”

“It’s temporary. After the internship, I haven’t found the right fit in terms of schedule...”

He hummed, encouraging you to complete your comment.

You added the real reason why you had settled, “The coffee shop gave me the perfect excuse to move out of my dad’s house.”

“I didn’t like living at my parent’s house anymore either. My brother tried to convince me to move in with him, but it defeated the purpose.”

“Itachi is cool, though.”

He narrowed his eyes. “He is cool? My brother?”

“Yeah.” You shrugged. “Everybody thinks so. I’m pretty sure we all have had a crush on him at some point.”

“Hn.”

He didn’t say another word. Turning around, he dragged you all the way back.

He didn’t answer when he dropped you off at your building and you told him to be safe either. Not even with a nod or one of his grunts.

Wondering if you had done something wrong, if perhaps talking about his brother like that had been too much, you let out a chuckle.

You were reading too much into his attitude, why would he get upset over hearing a fact?

Now, Sasuke himself was handsome, you could admit that. But admitting that was like saying flowers were pretty, or that puppies were cute — it was so obvious, so agreed upon that the repetitiveness of the admission would have been pointless; a tad bit annoying.

Checking your phone, eager to see his “I’m home” text, you entered the kitchen.

“You know he doesn’t like you, right?”

Grabbing a couple of grapes, you asked, “What makes you say that?”

“Sasuke doesn’t like PDA, and he isn’t normally chatty. He’s using you to spite Sakura.”

You felt something heavy on your chest. Swallowing your spit, you popped a grape into your mouth and chewed it slowly.

She continued, taking your stance as a cue to speak, “When he was with Sakura—“

You snapped, almost choking on the fruit you had just swallowed, “I am not Sakura, so I don’t care.”

“Ino told me you would say that...”

“Oh, so she can talk about me but she can’t talk to me?” you rasped, immediately coughing up after.

“She needs time. This is weird, and we’re both...” she sighed, searching for the right word, “worried. You turned down a guy who sees you as a goddess for someone known to be emotionally unavailable.”

“I don’t want to be seen as a goddess. I am not one, I have no desire to be held to a standard I can’t possibly match.”

Hinata looked skeptical, as if you had ever shown any desire to be perceived as a mystical being.

You started gesturing with your hands, hoping she would understand what you were coming from, “I want to be seen like a person who can’t always react in the best way possible and is insecure at times... I want to know the other person won’t run away because I’m not the cookie-cutter woman they imagined.”

”Sasuke is not the one who can give you that either.”

You frowned.

“Sakura tried—“

You rolled your eyes, feeling an approaching headache. “Do you know how many times he has compared me to her? Zero!”

Hinata dropped her eyes to the floor, shaking her head. “You’re falling for him.”

“I am not!”

“Why are you getting so defensive? You are dating him.”

“Because you’re insinuating I’m being blinded by him!”

“Of course not. You’re just ignoring what you can clearly see.”

You weren’t ignoring anything.

No, really, you weren’t.

He was using you with your consent. You were more than fine with it.

Your stomach churned.

Shit.

════════════════════════

You found Hinata’s commitment endearing. She had asked you a few weeks ago if you would be okay with her throwing Naruto a birthday party at the apartment.

When you said yes, you didn’t imagine she would be so bossy. She had you all working on different things while she and Sakura baked and decorated the cake.

Your duty was making sure everything was as she had planned. Her drawings were amazingly detailed, and you were getting more nervous as you compared the real thing with the paper.

“I think we need more...” Shikamaru made a dramatic gesture with both hands.

“Color?” you offered.

“Exactly!”

It looked more than fine to you in terms of color. It was just a birthday party for a young adult, not a thematic party for a child. What the balloons needed was to stay on the wall.

Shikamaru leaned against said wall. A balloon fell in front of him.“Remember when you did the decoration for the Christmas party in eighth grade?”

“Oh, the paper trees?”

He nodded with a smile appearing on his face. “We could make some paper shapes and glue them to the wall.”

Sensing he was too close, you stepped backward. “I don’t know if we have enough—“ you stopped yourself when your back collided against someone behind you.

Recognizing the hands that were holding your waist, you turned around. Sasuke raised both eyebrows, as though he was expecting something.

“What are you doing here? Where is Naruto?”

“Itachi wanted to take him shopping and finally teach him how to dress.”

“His style isn’t that bad.”

He tugged you closer, humming. “If you say so.”

“Why don’t you help us to stick the balloons on the wall?”

Sasuke analyzed the wall behind you, frowning. God, it must’ve looked ugly. He dragged his hands up, fingers brushing your arm as he snatched the piece of paper off your hand.

“Bring those tapes you bought for bullet journaling in high school.”

You whined. He didn’t have to remind you of that phase. You never did bullet journaling, by the way, the tapes were too cute for you to waste them.

Sighing, you shook him off you. “Fine.”

Hinata shot you a surprised look when you passed the kitchen, carrying the box where you stored the stationary you never used.

Sat on the floor, you wasted your precious time crafting a balloon arch. Sasuke would hand you the balloons and hold them for you to tape while Shikamaru made sure the arch stayed against the wall.

The accumulated weight made it all easier, and it would surely stay there as decoration until the balloons naturally deflated. That made you feel a little less shitty for how much balloons ruined the environment.

Naruto’s reaction made it all worth it. The change of style wouldn’t last, you were sure, but he looked happy.

You caught Itachi staring at you. Sliding your arm off Sasuke’s, you approached the older Uchiha.

“Long time no see.” His smile didn’t fill his dark eyes as he greeted you.

You tried to chuckle. “Two years? Three?”

“Something like that.” He brought his cup to his lips. You waited for what he wanted to say. He let it out, “I’m worried about my brother.” It sounded like a confession.

Taking a sip of your own cup, you took the bait, “Can I ask why?”

“I would be alarmed if his girlfriend didn’t ask why.”

“I didn’t want to intrude.”

“How many times did you see him this week?”

“Every day at campus.”

“And after?” Your silence was the answer he had anticipated. “You don’t have to tell me if you’ve been fighting, but you need to fix things.”

“W—what? No! We are fine.”

He didn’t believe you. “He never got this upset when he fought with Sakura.”

“Why does everyone insist on comparing me to her?!”

“Because he dumped her for you.”

You hated hearing that. It wasn’t true, and if it had been it would’ve been fucked up so you would’ve stayed away. At least you wanted to believe that. “I didn’t force him.”

Itachi rested his hand on your shoulder, brotherly encouraging you, “Go talk to him. You’ll do everybody a favor.”

Instead of looking for Sasuke, you decided to entrench yourself in your bedroom. Everyone was having fun, you didn’t want to sour the mood with whatever it was you were feeling.

You bumped into Ino on your way to your room. She ignored you while you followed her with your eyes. She was handed a drink by Sakura.

Shaking your head, you continued your path. Were the hostilities worth it? Your best friend seemed to have forgotten you existed, Sakura hated you, Shikamaru hadn’t given up... and the worst part of it all, Hinata was right.

Closing the door behind you, letting out a long sigh, you failed to see you weren’t alone.

Sasuke took his earphones off, sitting up on your bed where he had been laying on his back.

You sat down on the edge of the bed. “Why are you here?”

“You left me alone to go with Itachi.”

“You should talk to him,” you told him, hoping it would convince him to leave the room. “He’s worried about you.”

“Your crush Itachi?”

“Your brother Itachi.”

Sasuke grunted.

You left the bed in order to snatch the zippered hoodie on your desk chair. To your luck, the autumn air would get too chilly while you were trying to unwind.

He grabbed you by the wrist, startling you.

“What the fuck is your problem, Sasuke?”

“What’s yours? Since when do you get so worked up by me not saying anything?”

“Since when do you ignore the person you are supposedly dating for an entire week?”

Dropping your wrist, he shrugged, only staring at you to see your reaction.

“This was a mistake.”

Picking your keys, you dropped them into your pocket. You took your cellphone so you could let know Hinata you were fine and walked to the door.

“So that’s it?” He asked harshly. “You’re going to leave me in your room, take a walk, come back, kiss Shikamaru and pretend this didn’t mean anything?”

“Yeah,” you admitted. He had picked up on it quicker than it took you to plan it. “He’s nice and hasn’t given up.”

You counted his steps. One, two — he messed with his hair. Three, four — he looked taller as he approached you. Five, six — his chest heaved up and down. Seven, eight — he fixed his eyes on yours. Nine, ten — why were you counting?

“Is he?”

You nodded, holding his gaze.

“Do you want to know what’s going to happen?” He didn’t wait for you to answer. “You will do all of that, regret it when he becomes unbearable again, and wish I was there so you could use me some more.”

“I am the one who used you?!” The fucking nerve of this guy. “It was your idea.”

“Well, I stopped doing it a week after!” He exploded.

No, no, no. You shook your head, trying to find a way to put more distance between you and him.

“You don’t know what you want. You just haven’t spent enough time with other people. AND we wouldn’t even work that well together! I like showing affection and you don’t, a—and I talk too much for my own good...”

“Haven’t I shown you enough affection already?”

“It’s different. That was fake.” You explained it to him, “I mean doing things because you want, because showing the other person that you care feels good. Sometimes it’s handholding but others is not doing it because you can tell that person is—“

He cupped your face to shut you up, bumping his nose with yours. Slanting his head, he gave you the chance to push him away, to tell him no. That didn’t happen, you couldn’t do it, you didn’t want to do it.

He kissed you, and you kissed him back. Your hands traveled up his arms, stopping at his shoulders. Sasuke hummed into the kiss, sliding his hand to the back of your head while the other stayed on your cheek.

You parted from him, barely allowing some space to exist between you two as you analyzed his expression.

“I was angry,” he confessed under his breath. “Itachi is nicer than me, more of your type.”

“You misunderstood what I said.”

He nodded. “I was mad already, but then you spoke about my brother like that and...” clenching his jaw, he turned his head to the side. Sasuke stared at the wall, willing it to show him the appropriate words to say. “Being with you feels right and I don’t want to lose that. I wish I had seen it sooner.”

You giggled out of nervousness — this was more nerve-wracking than being seen as a goddess. This was real, you hadn’t done much to achieve it. And he was correct, it felt right.

Breathing in and out at a slow rhythm, you found yourself toying with the seam of his t-shirt. “I shouldn’t like you this much.”

“I personally believe you should.”

You did it anyway. It couldn’t be that bad if there was no fiber of your being that didn’t scream in some level of awe every time you were around him. Or every time you thought of him. Or when you heard his name being uttered.

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pulled him into another kiss.

Sasuke moved his hands to your hips, gripping them tightly as he angled his face to deepen the kiss. His tongue slid past his lips and pried yours open, caressing your tongue once you gave him access.

Movement behind you interrupted the heated kiss. The door was pushed open. You craned your neck, arms still around Sasuke as your eyes fell on Hinata.

“We’re about to sing Happy Birthday to Naruto.”

Sasuke sighed shakily, withdrawing his hands from your body.

Hinata didn’t leave your room until you showed signs of intending to follow her to the dining room. Sasuke trailed behind you, hurrying to grab your hand.

Everyone was staring at you instead of focusing on Naruto. You avoided looking at anyone but the celebrated, wanting the song to be over already.

Ino stared blankly for a moment, eyes moving to your shoulder. And it dawned on you — it had never been about your happiness or comfort.

She liked Sasuke too.

════════════════════════

He watched you fidget in the middle of his kitchen as you used to in middle school, back when you weren’t able to string a sentence in front of a stranger without stuttering.

He grew worried as your fidgeting turned into pacing.

“Why are you so tense?”

You shrugged dismissively. “Things out of my control.”

Controlling the way other people felt wasn’t something you ever wanted. It sounded like the worst superpower in the world. You just wished Ino would’ve told you the truth.

Losing friends over a guy was not how you thought your love life would go when you accepted helping him. It didn’t cross your mind when you realized you had fallen for him — perhaps because his reciprocity hadn’t been something you foresaw either.

“You can stay with me tonight if you want,” he offered like he knew exactly what the problem was.

“Wouldn’t you like that?” you joked.

“Very much.”

You almost smiled. Your gut told you to hug him, kiss every millimeter of his gorgeous face, and just forget about everything else. Your brain found the idea stupid.

”Can I ask you something?”

“Shoot.”

“Do you really hate affection?” God, what an annoying question to make. “ I— I don’t want to be repetitive with the topic, but I would feel awful if I was forcing you to display anything.”

“You’re not forcing me.”

Sasuke beckoned you closer, resting his forehead on yours when you complied. You forgot the words you were meaning to say, willing to get lost in his eyes and never come back.

You cradled his face, leaning forward. Brushing your lips against his, you decided that worrying and feeling bad would only keep you from experiencing this. And so you kissed him more firmly, stomach flipping when he chuckled on your mouth.

He broke the kiss for a fleeting moment, just to mumble, “I’ll show you real affection.”

His lips returned to yours, kissing you aggressively. He left you breathless, gasping for more of his mouth instead of air. His hands roamed your body as he kissed you.

Your heart hammered in your chest, feeling him push you backward. Your back hit the counter and he used the fact as leverage to grind against you.

Dragging his mouth down your throat, he put the soft kisses he had been meaning to litter all over your neck for weeks to the side and instead sucked on your tender skin.

The actions granted him a whimper on your behalf. His hips bucked up, prompting you to trail your hands down his torso. He refused to disconnect your fronts, grinding on you some more.

Sasuke toyed with the edge of your t-shirt, barely inching it up as he did so. His fingers brushed your soft stomach. “Take it off.”

Gripping the hem of your t-shirt, you slid off as quickly as you could, awkwardly holding it in your hand. Sasuke pried it off your hand, throwing the fabric to the side.

He took his shirt off too, letting it fall on top of yours. His hands were back on you instantly, running up your torso as he fit his knee between your legs.

You unabashedly groped his shoulders and back, attaching your mouth to his collarbone. Sasuke grunted, bringing his hands down to undo your jeans.

He cupped your pussy, fingers pushing your panties flush against your labia. He felt the material dampen just as you ground on his hand.

“Be patient.”

You whined. “Don’t tease me then.”

Pushing your jeans and panties down to your knees, he collected your wetness, spreading it up and down. “You think that’s teasing?”

“I don’t care. Do something.”

His thumb brushed your clit. He drew light circles on it, eyes fixed on your needy ones. He smiled, satisfied with the effect he was having on you.

Slowly, he slid a finger in your pussy, pressing his thumb on your clit. He caressed your walls, taking his time to make sure he wouldn’t hurt you.

The addition of a second digit came with harsher movements. The curling of his fingers inside you consequentially led him to rub your clit.

“Do you like that?”

You hung your head forward, gripping his shoulders as you hummed. Not able to help it, you arched your back, lifting your hips. His name erupted from your lips, tone needy as you asked him not to stop the scissoring movement.

“Use your words, baby, tell me how good I’m making you feel.”

Your walls momentarily squeezed his fingers. “So good.”

He kissed your jaw, then dragged his mouth against your skin, peppering kisses down your neck.

“Turn around.”

“Bu—“

“It’s been a while, I’m not going to last long.”

You bent over the counter with your ass up, waiting for him. A thrill ran down your spine when you heard him zip down his pants.

He rubbed the tip of his cock over your slit, making you whimper. You lightly shook your ass, encouraging him to get inside you already.

Giving you a playfully spank, Sasuke dipped into your pussy. His breath hitched, the warmth enveloping him was better than he had imagined. You could feel every inch filling you, his veins throbbing against your walls.

As impatient as you were, you craned your neck. “Give me a moment,” you said shakily, “it’s been a while for me too.”

His fingers trailed up and down your sides, silently assuring you that you could take as much time as you needed.

You didn’t need much time, your lust for him, combined with his soft touch, and how good he felt seated inside you, were more than enough for you to relax.

“You can move.”

He started slow, resting his hands on your waist as he pulled out only to enter you again. He did it a couple of times until he was sure you weren’t experiencing discomfort.

The pace was too slow in your opinion, a waste of time. You didn’t care how long he would last, at that point you just wanted him to make you come.

“I’ll do whatever you want,“ you promised urgently, “just go fast.”

His hands moved up. While his right one groped your chest, trying to free your tits from the bra, his left arm wrapped tightly around your middle.

Thrusting up into you, he managed to sneak his hand into your bra. Pinching your nipple, he relished in the sounds you were making, in how tightly you were squeezing him.

It made him quicken up his pace. The arm around you loosened for a moment so he could trail his hand down. Finding your clit again, he started rubbing it, this time with quick circular movements.

You gripped the counter, crying out. You wanted to thrash and scream all at once, in part because you were sure he would’ve liked it but mostly because your legs were already tingling.

He didn’t miss a single time. Not only was he hitting your g-spot repeatedly, but Sasuke had also put the inhibitions aside and with his breath on your cheek, he was moaning in your ear, moving his palm to your other breast, kneading it. You shifted on your feet, wishing you could do anything else than hold onto the counter.

His thrusts were getting sloppy, fingers rubbing your clit fervently.

You let out a string of courses through whines, brain getting fuzzy as he nuzzled against your neck.

Pulsing around him, your curses became incoherent sounds that mingled with his groans and hums.

Sasuke rasped in your ear, “Come all over me.”

You didn’t trust your words, not when his own went straight to your lower stomach. There was nothing you longed for more than pleasing him. He had demanded it, and you complied quicker than your pride would ever allow you to admit.

He blurted your name, spilling inside you after a few finishing snaps from his hips.

Guiding you to a standing position, pushing your belly against the edge of the counter as his sweaty chest heaved against your back, Sasuke attempted to catch his breath.

Fascinated by the fact that you were using a blow dryer to dry your panties, Sasuke leaned against the bathroom’s doorway.

“Do you need help?”

“No.”

“Are you mad at me?”

You turned the panties inside out, just making sure you were drying them properly. “Why would I be mad? It wasn’t on purpose.”

The bathroom became silent as you turned the dryer off. Sliding the panties on, you stared at him with eyebrows raised.

Sasuke scoffed, looking away. Clearing his throat, he announced, “The kitchen is clean already.”

Turning the light off, you walked past him into his bedroom. He placed his hands on your waist, sitting down on his bed as you stood between his legs.

“Are you staying?”

“Yeah. Hinata texted me, she wants the apartment all for her and Naruto.”

His brow furrowed. “But... would you stay if she hadn’t said anything?”

Moving a strand of hair off his face, you assured him, “Yes.”

Sasuke hummed, sliding his hands to your back in order to wrap his arms around you. Holding onto his shoulders, you blew air on his face to keep that stupid hair from covering his eyes.

Amused, he shook his head vigorously to mess his hair. You pouted. He snorted, tugging on your hips to bring you onto the bed on top of him.

Resting your weight on your arm, laying on your side, you reached out to fix his hair. Sasuke pushed your hand away, shifting to face you.

“You need to trim that hair.”

He grunted. “What’s wrong with my hair?”

“Nothing really, but it doesn’t let me admire your eyes.”

A red tint appeared on his face. You kissed his flushed cheek, smiling against his skin.

“You’re enjoying this way too much,” he whispered.

“I’ve already admitted I like you, the least I can do is enjoy making you blush.”

Sasuke repositioned himself on the mattress, closer to you as his new position on his side naturally allowed him to. He gave you a kiss out of nowhere.

You laid on your back to give your arm a break, draping your other arm over his frame to trail your fingers down his spine.

He dropped his head onto your chest, sighing softly, while his arm circled your waist.

“I thought you didn’t like cuddling,” you commented, worried that he would get uncomfortable.

“I might’ve lied,” he mumbled, nuzzling on your t-shirt.

#sasuke uchiha x reader #sasuke uchiha x plus size reader #sasuke uchiha #naruto shippuden #naruto

251 notes · View notes

princekoo · 3 years

Text

goodnight n go | one | pjm.

pairing. single dad! jimin x female teacher! reader

synopsis. jimin was a single dad of three and one unfortunate mishap caused him to meet you: his best friend’s coworker and daughter’s teacher. will feelings of petty loathing develop into something more?

genre/prompt. fluff, angst

word count. 4.3k

content. jimin is a pole dancer and has 3 kids as well as is 9 years older than oc. even if they’re both well over legal age, if that makes you uncomfortable, please consider not reading. thank you <3

writer’s note. I deleted it originally because I was unhappy with it as I wrote it when I was younger and didn’t have much experience in writing and my approach to it wasn’t as elaborate as the one I managed to develop all these months of practicing. so! here she is! she’s longer and has less parts so you won’t be annoyed with the constant changing haha. an important thing to note is that the oldest son’s name Songyoon was changed to Haneul, the little girl’s name Sooyeon was changed to Eunbyul, and the youngest’s name Sanghoon was changed to Hayun as their names were too similar and made it difficult to remember who was who. There was also many major plot changes as well as small ones, so it’s somewhat completely different to the earlier version. Anyways! Enjoy :)

parts. one / two

The window curtains glittered under the moonlight’s loving, motherly kiss, this gentle caress closely similar to the unnaturally blond man’s embrace of a little girl–his precious little girl– in his arms. She was quite positively almost a copy of himself, down to his natural jet-black hair and plump, pink lips. The expensive curtains—most notably one of the most expensive things in the vicinity as what his little one wants his little one gets— danced with the wind let in by the open window softly, bringing the loud car horns and yelling of bustling city life with it. They’d been rendered to a simple ambient hum, considering how high up in the building they lived, however. The glitter scattered all throughout its length caused it to look like various constellations spread gracefully, causing his little one to refuse any other option that wasn’t it, unfortunately for his bank account. The neon lights of signs outside their New York City apartment, which would otherwise be annoying, entered only carefully tonight, as if to not disturb the gentle moment between the father and daughter.

“And so, the little princess was elated! The dragon had taken her to his cave filled with shiny little things all around, away from the princess life she hated.”

The raven-haired girl’s little eyes had shined in anticipation; the blonde man often mused it seemed like the night sky was trapped in her gaze since her birth, hence her name. She practically shook from excitement, her little brain unable wrap itself around how the princess pulled it all off so effortlessly! She didn’t know what to do with herself, so she clung to her dad’s silk night shirt as tight as her little fists would let her (which kind of hurt but he wasn’t going to stop her, he loved her too much to repress her). She liked to think of herself as close to that of a big, scary typhoon. He begged to differ with the more accurate description of the whirlpool one makes when circling their fingers in water repeatedly.

“The dragon taught her all she came to know! He taught her to read and write. Taught her to do basic things and they lived happily for just a few months. Then, the guards in the palace found her and came to get her! Do you know what they assumed, my beautiful little star?” Jimin had started looking at her fondly, the term of endearment coming out in their native tongue of Korean, accent prominently and endearingly laced in his English, soothing into every word he spoke. The nickname made her chest fill with warmth and her cheeks puff in reluctant happiness. No matter how many times her dear daddy would say it, it was her very own little term of endearment. Just for her and no one else. She loved it.

“That he was a big scary mean dragon! Right, daddy?!”

Jimin beamed at her intelligence. Then again, he does read her this story whenever she asks—and that’s nearly every weekend. He tickled her and held her tightly in his arms, her soft giggles reaching his ears just as the melodies he would dance to as a young boy would. Although he could still fit her in his arms, she was getting big. Give it two more years and he couldn’t do this anymore with her, hold her without difficulty and discomfort. The thought of such a cruel future made his heart sink a little. He had to stop himself often from thinking about how she would act when she became a teenager, it would be too much for his fragile heart to handle.

Jimin had always chastised her, as he was the only parent she had left. He took care of her and taught her valuable life lessons, sang her to sleep, and learned to make pretty hairstyles “just like a princess”, she’d say. He corrected her when needed as well as took on the role of both mother and father to her younger brother, Hayun (she preferred to call him Sunny after Jimin told her the meaning in English, which always made his heart melt), which was only a month old when their mother decided to pack her bags. Her older brother, although still a junior in high school, helped as much as he could to alleviate the toll that taking on both roles took on Jimin.

He was a great father, as one wouldn’t really expect. He was the right mixture of incredibly compassionate, well-humored, and empathetic with a dash of sternness to go along with it. He wasn’t a tyrant ruler, he listened to all three–well two, Hayun hasn’t even been able to string together a coherent longer-than-3-words sentence, only simple sentences, as a toddler does– and implemented all change that was agreed on by the majority. He always tried to pay equal attention to all of them, although most of it went to her younger brother. She didn’t mind though, she enjoyed playing with her older brother, Haneul. Jimin always packed him lunch, even as he whined that he didn’t have to do that, but he always enjoyed when he did it. She knew, noticing he always left to school with a small smile on his lips after.

Jimin has to assume complete responsibility once their… “mother” … turned up one day and decided she wanted nothing to do with her kids anymore. After taking her routine every night visit to the bar, she found someone older. Wealthier. “Much more fun” and “like you used to be before they showed up” she also gracefully added. Not like it was his fault he’d grown up once his first child was born, unlike her. Always looking for convenient fun, never tied down to anything. Proposing to her would just be in vain since it’s not like she would’ve accepted marriage anyway. Even during high school, when she first had come to him announcing her pregnancy, he knew how little care she held for him. She always thought of him as harmless fun, a man on the side and he couldn’t say the same of himself. The first child was purely an accident, the other two was him desperately trying to convince himself it could all work out and she could change. After their third, he knew how wrong he was. He held feelings for her at one point, although, with time, it all disappeared. He could only hold feelings of loathing towards her at that point. She thought of the kids as nuances. She got sick of it. Sick of him. Sick of having just one person to kiss. She couldn’t be tied down, but just because he knew that, it didn’t mean it hurt any less. She’d left once Hayun was born, but Eunbyul didn’t know why. She always thought she didn’t love them anymore after seeing her mom with a man that looked uglier than her daddy for sure, but she seemed happy. Her mom said something to her before she’d left, looked at her weird, and screamed at her dad some more, but she couldn’t remember what it was. Often, she’d ponder when her mommy was coming back. Well, not like she could, anyway. They did move across the globe after, from Busan to New York, with no way to contact them. She didn’t mind not having a mommy for now, though, it’s not like she was ever home before anyway. It was always comfortable with daddy.

“Daddy! Please continue the story! Why’d you stop?! Pleeeeeeease…!” She pouted and looked up at him with those puppy eyes children knew to use when they wanted something to make their parents cave in fast in response to his hesitance to continue the story, her fake tiara skewing just a little to the side. One day, he’ll buy her a new one. One with diamonds and various other gems. His features seemed to light up and playfully mirror her own, his nose scrunching up as well. She, of course, as a sensitive, princess-y 4-almost-5-year-old, did not know how to differentiate someone being mean between someone playing, so she smacked him on the shoulder as hard as she could in her blind anger. Jimin yelped at the contact and sobered up, expression turning stern. Had she messed up? Did she do something wrong? Daddy’s face did the same face he always did when he was mad at her for doing something wrong. Eyes sharp. Lips in a straight line. Eyebrows drawn together.

“Eunbyul, you can’t hit anyone ever, you hear me? Especially me...” His voice was stern, but less confident as he trailed off. One look in her eyes and one could easily tell she was on the verge of tears. Why had the atmosphere changed so much? Why did the breeze still? Why was it so hot all of a sudden, but just on her face? Her tears were almost spilling out of her doe eyes, so his expression softened and panic flashed through his face. He had too soft a spot for her.

“...Not without expecting payback!” He announced out as a save and initiated a tickle attack by removing his arms supporting her back and wiggling them on her sides, causing a sea of reluctant giggles and laughter to erupt from her lips, tears of sadness now turned into ones of happiness. A wave of relief passed through her consciousness. He wasn’t mad at her anymore!

After he stopped tickling and her giggles piped down, he took her in his arms again and minimally rocked her back and forth again, attempting to continue the story. She gazed into his eyes. There, were two crescent moons filled with stars picked carefully right from the universe. They held warm nights of him wrapped in a blanket and always holding her in his arms while rocking her back and forth, looking back at her like she was his most valuable treasure. Nights of drinking lukewarm chocolate and sharing it with her while telling her countless stories he remembered or made up, her brother’s occasional snorting making her giggle. Those crescent pools of love staring right back at her with so much fondness, she couldn’t not trust him. He loved what he created with every inch of his being, even if she resembled her mother somewhat. She never felt so safe in any other person’s hold, even in Haneul’s. She felt safe and happy, sure, but not to the extent of her dad’s.

Pouting and closing his eyes as well as lifting his head up high in mocked snub, he opened one of his closed eyes.

“Well, if you’re done being rude, I’d like to finish this story for this week.”

A beat of silence went by as she looked at him with slight shame and tucked her head against his armpit. He sighed, breathily chuckled and shook his head slightly.

“You were right, princess. They did think he was a big, mean, and scary dragon that took the pretty little princess as his own treasure! The princess came back from getting berries just before the guards decided to kill the dragon!”

A gasp. A smile.

“She explained what happened and the guards decided to keep to themselves that they had seen the princess. The dragon and the princess lived what, my little star?”

“Happily ever after, right, daddy?!” She looked at her dad excitedly, completely engrossed in the story despite it being probably the hundredth time he told it to her since her birth.

A pause.

“That’s right, my love. The end…”

Although little Eunbyul understood simple Korean, she could barely speak it. Jimin planned on teaching her a little more down the line. Now, she barely understood some of the words, any longer than two syllables being too dang hard for her little brain to grasp at this late hour, right before her bedtime, but she didn’t care at this time. Not when his soothing voice graced her ears with the background noise only that of the far away beep of cars, the rhythmic rumbling in his chest every time he’s uttered a word soothing her to sleep. As she laid there in his arms, fast asleep, little snores leaving her nose, all that was in his mind was how he could never bear losing her.

He felt absolutely heartbroken and stressed, raising three kids on his own was unbearably hard. He loved them so much he had to look for a job in this new country. A job that paid well but let him work while the kids were asleep so he could care for them while they were awake.

He also made friends with his co-workers and shift manager, so it wasn’t too bad re-adjusting. They barely hired new employees since they had a very high criteria, so he barely had to deal with new hires that made his job harder. His kids are growing up, though. He knew that. He feared they would leave like their mother did almost two years ago, so he’d decided to enjoy them and raise them as well as he could while it lasted. He was scared they’d decide they were sick of him just like she did. Irrational since his kids shared a strong bond with him and each other, but valid.

Jimin got up, arms still wrapped around her, she was growing and he could no longer able to hold her like how he used to. He moved the covers to make place for her and gently laid her down, taking her plastic tiara off her head. Covering her and laying a gentle kiss on her forehead, tears dangerously threatened to spill. The moonlight hit his face, making his eyes’ shine intensify into thousand galaxies in his beautiful, soft chocolate eyes as he got up to turn off her mermaid lamp.

“Sleep tight my little universe,” he chokingly whispered as tears freely fell from his eyes.

An abrupt sound made way to his ears and he turned around, finding his sixteen-year-old son holding Sunghoon. Jimin vigorously wiped his tears and gave Haneul a weak and quivering smile. The boy moved to put down the toddler he was holding in his crib and turned on the mobile, then mouthed to his father if he was okay, used to him being bubbly and strong for them, though it certainly wasn’t the first time he’d seen him cry. He took the role of confidant, listening to his father whenever he let himself be anything less than closed. He always looked so small, like a little boy. It always scared him. This wasn’t his big and amazing role model of a dad, was it? The one he bragged about to all his friends and anyone who would listen? Would he become like that, too? Out of the three kids, he was the one who remembered his mother the clearest, having been fourteen. He despised her, to put it nicely. He was the one that got to see to the extent that that woman caused their father to feel anguish, he got to know what not being loved by his mother was like.

Nodding, he ushered his oldest son out the room, more unrestrained tears rolled down his tear-stained cheeks. No matter how vigorously he wiped at them, they’d come back anyway, so maybe he should give up on wiping his tears just as he’d given up on trying to make his relationship work. It didn’t help that Haneul was the spitting image of his mother, either. Haneul wanted to press on, to question him and help him, but he decided to leave it. Glancing at both of his younger siblings sleeping, he decided maybe some things were better left unsaid. He slowly made his way to the door and once he reached it, pat his dad in the back and continued to his room. As Jimin tried to control his upcoming violent sobs, he shut the door behind him.

He couldn’t do this alone anymore. It was too much. He needed someone there.

The cool autumn wind blew against Jimin’s cheek as he shook his hair to clear his fringe from his eyes. He brought his dainty hands into his jacket pockets as he puffed out air. While his breath may not have been visible, it sure as hell felt like it could be.

It was cold as fuck, to put it simply. Having a car would be absolutely beautiful right now, but circumstances really don’t line up with his wishes on the regular. He always kept forgetting to look into which car he would like best and to go purchase it, but the subways facilitated his route home and to work somewhat. His life would improve tenfold once he remembers to buy a car. He was very forgetful since there’s only so much he can keep up with, his brain take up with his three kids and problems. He could do that in the three days he had left, he guesses. Maybe tomorrow if he sets a reminder, even, would he be able to get a car. Before he left, he had saved up money for a living space able to hold all 4 of them and a mode of transportation. He could get rid of his subway card and buy a car or something, anything but dealing with the surplus of rats and drunkards at the time he used it. His credit wasn’t bad either, which could probably lower his purchase a little. His oldest used the same transportation he did, but he just wanted to drive his kids to school in the mornings and drop them off. Even more so, Eunbyul was starting school in just a few days, so he couldn’t afford to just walk her to school as it was half an hour away from their apartment building or even use public transport. It just didn’t feel right to him. All those cute hairstyles he planned on doing on her would be ruined by the time they got there.

Jimin kept pacing along the sidewalk towards the apartment complex where his kids are expected to be sleeping. Expected. It was 1:05 A.M., after all. A father can only hope his children listened well to him. He could probably assume Haneul was studying or something and the other two were knocked out, children being unable to be awake for very long.

He sighed as he scratched his itching nose and gazed around the well-near-empty streets, save the occasional drunk or workers of the same hours as himself.

Work was everything but slow, as always. Obviously, as an exotic dancer, he should’ve expected that. He really thought he’d made it clear to the manager that he had to be home early to put his kids to bed and give Eunbyul her first out of five pep talks before she starts kindergarten for the first time ever in a week, but maybe he didn’t remember. He’ll put his money on that, Seokjin was always preoccupied with everything in the club and the additional two other locations. Being a considerate manager and good owner is hard work, after all. His forgetfulness caused Jimin to be overbooked and end his shift two hours later than he’d requested. At least he was getting paid very well for that, anyway, so he had next to no complaints.

Checking his phone, he saw 5 collective texts from his friends, Yoongi and Taehyung. These were two childhood best friends of his, every summer when he would visit his grandma in Seoul he would hang out with them. They were both neighbors from Daegu and would go to Seoul for the summer for the same reason Jimin did which caused his grandmother to meet them. A chance encounter leading to a life-long friendship. Taehyung, however, moved away to become an art major at NYU and Yoongi had followed behind, falling victim to Taehyung’s prettily warpped descriptions of the city. He was a kindergarten teacher and assumed the same role in the states and Taehyung became a critically acclaimed, wildly successful painter. Taehyung actually had children of his own in his time in New York and his twins were the same age as Eunbyul. He, however, was married to their mother, and happily too. For that, he always felt jealousy, despite not wanting to.

Tapping the notification to see all the texts displayed, he saw Yoongi whining about the fact that the first day of school is way too close for comfort and Taehyung’s smiley face reply to Jimin’s own “i’m going home now, if i don’t text you that i’m home within 20 minutes, use find my friends to go after me”. Nothing out of the ordinary. He lived in a crime-filled part of town. He was saving up to be able to buy either a nice enough house close to the school or an apartment of the same caliber in cash. Mortgages seemed messy to him, in all and he was frankly scared to do it.

Now, Yoongi’s whining is normal, but now it has increased tenfold as the news of him getting an assistant teacher was broken to him. Yoongi felt as though the school was insulting his ability to teach by putting another adult in the classroom (they’d assured that he needed an extra hand in the classroom as there were more kids than before in his class–he called bullshit though), but nonetheless, all Jimin could hope for is that he doesn’t “accidentally” show up to class with vodka in a water bottle again. Not after what happened last time.

Locking his phone and walking faster, his longing for the warmth of what he liked to call his “luxury” apartment shining through and suddenly beginning to be extremely prominent which resulted in a whine of I-have-to-walk-like-five-more-steps-to-get-inside-so-life-isn’t-fair escapes Jimin. He stared ahead, gaze landing on the once-silver gate. It was once beautiful, but since the new owners bought it, they paid no attention to outside view, or so he was told by the old lady next door, Janet. They knew everyone went there for the cheap prices anyway, she’d sigh. He really had to move into a house or something. He already had the money for a nice enough house or better apartment where all 4 of them could live happily though his job. Maybe he could look for a house only a few minutes away from the school. Mental note: look for house around school.

Quickly opening and speed walking to the elevator, he checked his phone once again. More drunk texts from the absolute best friend that he loves so very much in this very moment, Yoongi. He really did take his devastation seriously, as he shared a selfie with him and vodka with a text after saying “my news befrenddf!!!!!!!!”. Jimin let out a huff of amusement and disbelief. The man was almost in his late 30s and he still acted like he could be the age of his students.

The unlocking to the apartment was bittersweet. Suppressed memories always seemed to float into his conscious one by one when coming through the door, when silence and darkness met him. That house of cards-like mirage he’d fabricated all on his own tormented him because how could he be so stupid and naïve to believe two children would fix their doomed relationship. He was never happy, not after she barely showed up at home after giving birth. Not after she’d come home often with the stench of alcohol, cigarettes, and sex on her. She was the one who could never be a parent. The one that selfishly left when offered money and riches. The one who didn’t even think twice about accepting the offer. The one that left him for a richer man despite their various kids. The one he’d had to lie to his daughter about when asked of. The one that never thinks of her own kids and has started a new life with brand new kids and husband. The one that’s too late to fix things. The one he and his teenage son loathe with every fiber of their being.

He really had to move away to a nicer place. Sighing, he dragged his boot cladded feet along the living room towards his room to begin his night routine. His two jobs relied on his face and his body, so taking care of both was extremely important, mental stability somewhat important too. He kicked off his shoes and snaked out of his clothes, took his pj’s, and padded towards the bathroom. The most relaxing parts of the day for him were most simply when he saw his kids in the morning and taking a shower after being in a packed and hot night club, full of dried sweat which gave him a not-so-pleasant stench. Eunbyul just knew her daddy was a dancer; she didn’t need to know the explicit details. At least not until the age of thirteen, or maybe older (he hoped), when her very own older brother found out.

He scrubbed every inch of his body until his skin turned red because god, he could not stand the stench just rolling off him in waves. Now, he was fine. He was happy, scent of the bubblegum body wash Eunbyul insisted on buying filling his senses. He was finally home, and his daughter was turning a new chapter in her life. She was going to learn how to read and he would teach her the same things he’d taught her brother. How he loved that, the feeling of satisfaction reached after your child now knows something they didn’t before. He loves the way her eyes light up when she learns something. He loves it all, and he hopes it’ll last forever.

He remembered he should probably invest in a car and a house closer to the school, a 30-minute walk was no joke. He finally dragged his fatigued fingers to set the reminder.

#btsghostie #jimin x reader #pjm #jimin #park jimin #jimin fanfic #jimin fluff #jimin angst #dad jimin #single father jimin

81 notes · View notes