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jjkpls · 3 years

Text

the wishlist (m) - 6 (final)

“Was it worth it?”

> genre : smut, angst, fluff

> pairing : jeon jungkook x reader (f)

> words : 15k (ugh sorry)

> content/warnings : back at it again w/ the bff2l; one sided love, LOTS of pining; sextoys talk and use; explicit language; explicit description of sex; phonesex; masturbation (f); dirtytalk; alcohol drinking; dubcon exhibitionism; ambiguous infidelity

previous - masterlist

There's a lot of forgetting to get done. It wasn't the plan to get drunk. Maybe you should have known better than to confide the slightest about your heart and its aching to your two girlfriends. Because they don't have much of a solution to present you with. You meant to ask of them to divert your mind, make you laugh, feed you so much you'd fall into a food coma and wouldn't be able to think about anything else but sleep. Eventually, share their own dramas of the moment (they always have some) to get you so invested in their shits you wouldn't be thinking about your own.

You made the mistake of sharing, with probably too much preponderance in your tone, that Jungkook was back with his girlfriend.

Without any context clues -they didn't even know that he was single for approximately four days-, they knew. You're not that complicated to read when it comes to him. Only he seems to not get it.

You still remember the first time they found you out. They had a sense that something was up with this kid, that there couldn't just be a platonic, decade-old friendship based on nothing spicier than the tteokbokki you'd cook for him every now and then.

They only started believing, with utter incredulity, that it was true when they saw you, and him, and his girlfriend. All at the same time, sitting around the same table, there was no doubt left. No reason to believe that there's something unsaid existing. They saw your eyes though. The shine they gain whenever you'd be looking at him, laughing hard with all his teeth out, and the glassy look they took on whenever they'd catch a gesture, a touch that was meant only for Jiyeun.

You've never really gone into details. You've never ranted over the feelings, over him, everything that made him the one person for you. They saw you cry over him though, one drunken night, and it was enough to make them understand how deep you were in.

And perhaps it's your fault, that you wouldn't sort of train them to be the better friends they wish to be to you. They don't know what to say, what to do to console you. You don't even know what you need. Really, all you know, it's that you didn't feel able enough to take care of your tormented heart and mind alone tonight.

You are to blame if they dragged you to this bar, with the music too loud and the people too numerous, bumping their hips to yours attempting to coarse you into dancing. You hate every second of it. Every element that was supposed to distract you, help you forget, feel better, served as annoying distractions. You could picture yourself, dipped in a scorching hot bath, with a bowl of ice cream, weeping your eyes out like in the most cliche, most dramatic breaking down of your life. And it felt right, in your mind anyway, a thousand times better than this.

"Here!" Like the good girl that you are, you accept the shots. Min sets one in each of your hand and stares over the rim of her own glass, expecting. You roll your eyes. Swallow them down in one go and she yells, arms in the air, jumping like the night has just been made.

At least, she's entertained. Dancing her life away, kind of wilding out with too much energy, having to apologize every few seconds for knocking someone with an elbow or slapping another with her ponytail.

"Look, who's here!"

Your heart skips a beat then. Until you follow Mary's finger who's pointing rudely at Park Jimin. Park Jimin as in Jeon Jungkook's Park Jimin, one of his closest friends. He's dressed in all black, tight leather pants clawing to his legs, silk shirt half unbuttoned, perched on heeled Chelsea boots, dark black hair gelled back.

For a second, you worry, stupidly, if your friend is not going to appear, emerging from the thick crowd, carrying a drink, catching your eyes in the room. That's another thing you wouldn't need right now: seeing him. When you're in this weird state of sadness, guiltiness, of hopelessness and confusion. You'd probably be a mean bitch again. He doesn't deserve that.

For some time, you're just watching Jimin, being Jimin, dancing languorously, flashing smiles and winks so naturally; making everyone uncomfortable just because he's so attractive and so talented at catching people's attention and making them want him. It's just Jimin, hoeing out, as always. No Jungkook ever appears next to him. And while you sort of spy on him, there are the two dumb bitches next to you, drooling over him. Commenting about his ass, the way he moves his hips and how tight he seems to be in his pants.

"You should have fallen for him, dude!" It's the pinch to your arm that drags you back to the conversation, lets you know that you're the one Min is addressing. "What?" Your brain is already a bit slow. You haven't eaten much before leaving, drunk not much but too fast and forming intelligible sentences, translating your thoughts in their entirety is not a task easily doable at the moment. You meant to say something about how ridiculous they sound. About how it doesn't make any sense. About Jungkook and the things you feel for him, and the way you fell and how even when you suffer, like in this instance, you wouldn't change your heart because it's him, and only him, has been and might as well always be.

Why would you fall for Park Jimin?

"Jimin, you'd just ask him to fuck you and he'll do it."

"You can see he's a very generous slut."

It makes you wince. They're being fucking weird. Obnoxious, in their way of ogling him and quite disgusting talking about him. There's a smirk on the corner of Jimin's mouth and you wonder if maybe he's noticed them and is enjoying it. They don't mean to be offensive, you suppose, but they're still rude as hell.

"Useless Jungkook could never!"

Either you knock your friend out with your newly filled up glass or you drink it and attempt to swallow along your rage and that strange feeling that the open shirt Jimin is wearing has raised in you.

"Don't you wanna try him?" The question is absurd. You don't try people in general. But you'd never, ever, even think about trying someone as close as he is to Jungkook.

What the actual fuck?

"Fine! Don't give me those eyes!" Your brain and face connection is not that great at the moment that you'd know precisely what Mary is referring to. Soon after frowning and pouting through a sip of her drink, she's leaving, straight for the less crowded part of the bar, where people are dancing, where Jimin is showing off.

She needs less than thirty seconds to have him wrapped around her. Min is howling at your side like it's such an exploit. You don't want to bad mouth on your friend but it is, indeed, Jimin. Manwhore Jimin. And just like that, just because she walked in his vicinity, whispered something quickly to him, maybe just a simple greeting and a reminder of who she is, your friend, in case he couldn't make her out, and he's holding her tight, dancing, more like grinding against her, to her greatest pleasure, face buried in her hair, he seems to be uttering things directly in her ear. You catch her fingers reaching for the wide opening of his shirt, brushing against that tattoo you know to be there under his breast but have never gotten to really decipher, and he's leaving kisses on her shoulders. The next thing you see is his wide, wolf-like grin, now aiming straight at you.

You startle, almost let your glass shatter to the ground from the surprise. That seems to make him laugh. He waves a hand quickly your way and for some reasons, it sends a sudden flaming flush to your cheeks. That guy is such a cunt-tease, he's awful. No wonder people talk so crudely about him.

"I need to get plastered." You mumble, probably not loud enough for Min, whose arm you're dragging along on your way to the bar, to hear.

You may have thought, for a split second, of a fantasy. You may have reshaped the scene taking place in front of you to make it more suitable to you, to make it as self-indulgent as you could. With you replacing Mary, with Jungkook replacing Jimin. She made it seem so easy and for the briefest of moments, it felt like it was realisable. As if the only step missing, the only thing making it not real yet, is the first step, the one Mary took by just walking up to him and asking him to dance, maybe for you to be his for a while.

Then Jimin looked over, with his dark eyes and pretty luscious lips, his very sexy aura and everything that makes him him, and it all felt down to the ground. That's ridiculous.

That would never work.

Maybe hot men with the most endearing hearts that you really desire are not to be seduced by you. It just wouldn't happen. Jungkook would never, as she said. What a shame.

You should have fallen for someone easier like Jimin. He's not one person's man, that's for sure, but at least, he would have been great at pretending to be yours for a moment.

Now you really need to get drunk.

There's pure guilt boiling in the pit of your stomach. Because you've never denied your feelings for Jungkook. He deserves them. He deserves to be loved by everyone. Deeply and passionately. And no matter how true, how pure, how intense those feelings are, he never owes to reciprocate, does he? And here you are, greedy stupid little you, sad and angry because of course, he couldn't love you back like that. Not when there's fucking Jiyeun in the way. Jiyeun or any fucking one else, right?

He's not making it easy for you. Everything he does is making your life harder. As if it wasn't enough on its own already.

Everything he does.

Like buying you these fucking toys you need a science degree to operate.

Sort of.

Maybe you don't need a science degree. Maybe a sober head would be enough to make a toy you've never used before function.

You don't have that at the moment. You're in your favourite pyjamas - an extra-large, greyed by time tee-shirt you stole from Jungkook back in high school - and panties - because it sounded like way too much effort to find shorts or joggings and slip them on. You've managed, somehow, you don't even remember doing it, to make your bed all cosy and welcoming, a perfect backrest made of your fluffiest pillows.

The little toy, this orange thing, sort of shaped like a fat bunny, a big, rounded body with two straight little ears, pointed upwards. It's supposed to be fully charged. It's been disinfected. It's just waiting for you to use.

Except it's the last one Jungkook had bought for you, you didn't get to use it yet, to even turn it on once, nor read its instructions. And here you are, past two am, trying, with your sloppy brain, your blurry eyes, and your impatient cunt, to understand how it works. There's an app linked to it. This much you got from the big, unmissable QR code occupying the first page of the three-page long manual that your eyes won't read.

You picked up your phone, went through the violent burning of your eyes when the screen lit up too close to your face, scanned the code, installed the app and here you are, stuck.

The app won't let you turn the fucking toy on. There's a message that keeps coming up every time you try to link the app to the toy. But the message is written in grey, on white, and you can't see shit and you don't have the patience to decrypt it. Maybe if you close it, and try running it again, and try scanning the code again, and just click on the button that appears under the message, whatever it says, maybe it'll work.

Except it doesn't. After a certain number of times (keeping up with the counting is another thing you can't do well right now) the app keeps on being a bitch. Keeps being difficult and reluctant, and unwilling to let you fucking get off and go to sleep.

You're on the verge of tears.

Why would it be so fucking difficult to make a fucking sex toy work?

Why?

You're so annoyed and impatient and angry now and it's all Jungkook's fault anyway.

You can't try to go to sleep, no matter how tipsy you are, because your brain is filled up with this asshole and won't let you alone. You can't fuck yourself to sleep because the toy you've picked - and for totally irrational reasons you feel like you can not switch to another one - won't let you and it's his. His fucking present. Fucking poisoned gift.

He makes everything worse. Everything difficult. And the more your eyes fill up with frustration tears, the more you're reminded that he's also the answer. He's the worst and the best part of your existence.

Of course, you'd call him.

"I could be sleeping." His voice is light and clear. He wasn't any close to be asleep. He's probably gaming or something. You're so thankful for his voice, the lovely thing, the comforting thing, that you don't even get mad at his aforehand teasing.

"Jungkook-" It's not a call of his name. It's a whine, almost a lament at this point. Tiny high tone, overly dragged vowels. Something like Juunggooo, and he must recognize the tone straight away because he starts laughing in your ear. You bite on your bottom lip hard, almost draw blood, squeeze your fist over your heart, as if it could help it handle it better.

You love him, you love him, you love him.

"Went out with the girls?" You hum as an answer. "Had a little too much fun, sweatheart?"

"No fun at all."

He's laughing again. His sly, mocking chuckle. He's too himself for you to get mad at him. He's too cute when he sounds boyish and happy like that.

"No fun?" He's having fun, it's hearable. It might be because you sound like a dumb, whiny kid. "Why is that?"

"Just cause." He hums like he understands. You hear mockery in it. He sounds a bit distant. As if he's not totally paying attention, as if you're really a four-year-old kid rambling some non-sense after school and their parent just barely pretends to be interested. "Junggooo, I'm trying to have my fun now but your thing is being mean to me."

"What thing?" He's definitely doing something else. He speaks a bit slow, you can picture his gaze far from you. And of course, it'd be, he couldn't even see you even if he tried. It's still vexing. He really doesn't want you to have him all for yourself. Why not fucking Jimin?

"The orange bunny you got me." You explain patiently, pouting a bit. You try your best not to have your vexation be too loud but it's hard. "I tried the app but it won't let me."

"The orange-" You hear it when the gears click. He even gasps a bit. You kind of brought it up out of nowhere when you accommodated him with your constant complains and fights pretty much each time he wanted to talk about this subject. And here you are, opening up a conversation on one of them. You kind of get where the shock is coming from. "Oh, the Gala thing." He even knows its name. "What- How isn't it working?"

"The app says I'm too drunk to use it." You quetch, glaring at the toy laying flat on its back next to you. The asshole.

"The app says what?"

"Jeon Jungkook! Are you even listening to me?" Hysteria was to be expected. Because here you are sad and drunk and horny and highly frustrated and it seems he keeps making you repeat everything. And of course, he would because he can't give you his undivided attention now, can he? Because he's not a generous slut like Park Jimin, he's a useless prick. And if he keeps being one, and he keeps upsetting you, you promise to yourself, as an act of self-love and self-respect, you'll tell him he should be better, he should be more like Park Jimin.

"I am, baby, but I'm confused."

Except he doesn't need any bettering, does he?

It's like he's heard your thoughts. Like somehow, even with the distance separating your two apartments, he's been able to read them directly on the lines of your heart. He knows what you need, the soft and gentle and tender Jungkook who takes care of you, the one that doesn't show often, especially now that you don't really go out and get pissed off drunk together, now that you don't expose the sad episodes you might have to him in fear of being precisely confronted to this perfect torture. Maybe he heard your mind calling Park Jimin's name too many times and he tries to ensure his position. You almost tell him not to bother. That it was just a taunt, it's always him, just him, will ever be.

"What does the message say?"

"That I'm too drunk and stupid to use it."

"I don't think that's what's written, baby."

"But-" You're seriously going to cry in a second. You don't even know from what. The app really succeeded in hurting your feelings by not working for you and he keeps calling you baby, it makes your whole inside boil and scorch like a puddle of lava. "It's invisible letters, how am I supposed to read exactly?"

"If you can't read maybe you should just go to bed for now, hm? Figure it out tomorrow."

"No, now." Full brat mode is on. You know if only he was sitting next to you, you would have raised a hand to pinch him right on the back of his upper arm -where it really stings. It works usually. You don't hurt him, the guy is basically made of muscles, he's the kind of work out junkie that's enjoying the pain. He wouldn't fucking mind your tiny attempt of an attack, no matter the amount of anger and frustration powering it.

By telephone though, it's even harder to make him do something. Possibly undoable. The only weapon that you have is your annoying screeching voice. "You fix it! You bought this shitty thing so you fix it."

"I forgot how rude you get when you're drunk." He's still making fun of you. Not taking you that seriously.

"Jungkook, I'm seriously going to cry." The worst part is that you mean it. If regular menaces won't do, surely affection blackmailing should be more effective.

"Don't cry, it's fine. I'll check. Don't hang up."

As if. You did not plan on hanging up. Ever. You've decided.

It's too nice, cuddled up in your bed, with his voice, smooth and soft, saying words that you really like, like baby, in your ear. You've decided this moment won't ever stop.

"Junggoo-"

"One second, baby." You don't have one fucking second. You don't have any fucking second to spare him. When he's made you horny and lonely and longing for so fucking long. Why would you spare him any more? He takes too long. The time he takes, you prophet, will precisely be the time your vagina will need to dry out entirely.

Even his soft voice calling you baby won't serve to make you wet again.

That's a lie.

It makes you groan. Asshole, asshole, asshole.

"Oh." Your ears perk up. He's back with you, his voice closer than before, it seems, when he starts explaining, a hint of guilt shadowing his tone. "Sorry, it's my fault."

"Of course, it is." You mumble, face deep in your pillows. "Jungkook! Everything's your fault, always." You're probably being unfair. Or maybe not. Is he responsible for making you fall for him or are you to blame for doing so? Turns out, it doesn't really matter, because he doesn't even pay attention to the blatant, telling, honest truth you've just spurred.

"When I received the package I tried it once."

"Tried?" Did he really? The cute little bunny-shaped thing you'd dismissed earlier, cursed at and threw daggers at suddenly looks different to you. You want to pick it up and maybe place a kiss on the top.

"Wait- Not like that! I didn't actually try it! I don't have a fucking clit, what-"

"You just said that!"

"I meant, I tried turning it on and linking it with the app, just to see how it worked. Like the options on the app."

"Oh." Makes more sense.

"Anyway, it's not working for you because I used my email with it and you can only have one." So many words. God. "I have to invite you. Or delete my account and then you make one with your QR code."

You turn into the whiniest, most irritating little thing then. Just a jumble of dramatic cries, something almost sorrowful because your issue appears impossible to deal with. It's not that complicated. He explained it. Too many words, too much thinking, too much paying attention, too much to do and too much delay. How does he expect you to do it when you can't even read the invisible font of the app?

"Fucking invite me then."

"Watch your mouth." It makes you roll your eyes. It's not the first time he says that. He says with this menacing growl at the end. Like he means it. Like he's really threatening you. But no matter how far you go, no matter how many times you curse at him, he never acts on it. You want to tell him, you almost do, to stop promising you things he won't ever give you. There's a ping coming from your phone. With a bit of a struggle, you manage to put the speakers on, so that he doesn't leave too far whilst you take a look at the message. A link to click on. Not that hard, it's bright blue, unmissable. It leads you back to the bitchy app.

Now it's all nice to you. It lets you enter, presents even a picture of your own toy, congratulates you for being linked to it and to Jungkook's account. Of course, it would. Now that it knows you're friends, now that he's in the thing, this bitch of an app is being nice.

There are a lot of symbols, every-fucking-where. Some wavier than others. One is shaped like a music note. Some are just little constellations of dots. You click somewhere, just to try and see if anything happens and it does.

Suddenly, the bunny is brought to life and starts purring furiously on the bed. It startles you, looks a bit intimidating. It sounds angry and complicated with all of these fucking options. At least the other toys he's gotten for you had at most two buttons, one to turn it on and off, and the other one to regulate the three levels of intensity.

You might actually need a science degree to use that. Simply to adjust it so it's not attacking you when you turn it on.

You press another button. The setting changes instantly. It starts vibrating in a jerkier way instead of one straight line of frequency.

Tentatively, you grab it, sort of unimpressed and dubious as to the way this would feel good on you. You've already grown grudges against it. It needs to impress you, prove to you that it's worthy of the effort and of you even bringing it to your precious temple.

It sucks at convincing you. You've brought it to your panties and tee covered crotch, pressed it there, waiting, and it doesn't do much. It vibrates. Weirdly. It stops and goes again, in a pattern you don't understand and it doesn't do much for you. Doesn't turn you on, doesn't make you wet. Doesn't stimulate in any positive way.

You reach for your phone with one hand, trying to keep the other one holding it against you, and it's here that the whole thing fucks up for the last time you can tolerate.

How are you supposed to fucking do that?

Don't they understand that? The people that make those fucking things? That they're going to be used mostly by single people, with a single pair of hands? How are you supposed to manage holding it up where you need it, whilst simultaneously, hold your phone up (everyone fucking knows holding a phone up with one hand, and tap on the fucking screen, especially laid in bed, is impossible and the worst fucking idea one could have - except if getting a black eye is the project) and control the intricate dashboard.

"For fuck's sake!"

"What is it?" Jungkook is sighing heavily in your room. And for a second, you're startled almost off of your own bed. You managed to forget he was even still here, on the other line, apparently waiting patiently for- for what exactly? Maybe for you to wish him goodnight and hang up. You literally forgot he was here. You were about to get yourself off -if only this shitty thing wasn't so shitty- whilst he was still here on the phone.

Why doesn't it mortify you?

"How am I supposed to use my phone and the thing at the same time? Why- How? Jungkook!"

"Stop saying my name like that!" You don't ask because you know exactly how you're saying it. There's no proper balance in your tone tonight. Either you're whining his name like a desperate brat, either you're pestering it like a disappointed, aggravated mom.

"I'm going to cry." You say again, lying this time. You've already started. It's not a lot yet. Just a puddle of tears, in each of your eyes that are just about to spill, and the prickling sensation at the tip of your nose, the latter has already starting sniffling uncontrollably.

"Why?" He sighs again. This time, it's gentler. He might have just found the key to the secret safe holding the very last drops of indulgence he hides deep inside his kind heart. "Baby, the app is really for couples."

"But I'm not a couple, I just wanna cum."

"Y/N-" He chokes on your name. "There are buttons on the toy for you to use. You don't have to use your phone, okay?"

"You're lying."

"Why would I be lying? Look! There are fucking buttons."

There are, indeed. But they suck, you think. You do try them. Pressing on them while you stretch your arms out to keep the bunny's ears close to your covered clit. It's so much work. You don't get it. The buttons are hard to press on, when you manage to activate the little monster, it just jabs against your centre, falls over from your hand. You hate the jerking motion, try to change it because clearly, it won't do. It doesn't work. The buttons suck, the toy sucks and Jungkook is cursing at you instead of helping.

"What do you want me to do? Baby, I'm- Just go to bed."

You hate that he's telling you to go to bed, again. He's probably right. You're being a pain, an embarrassing one at that. You can't just go yet, though. First of all, the very reason you called in the first place, for him to make it so you can fuck yourself to sleep, has not been effectively resolved. And on top of that, the very resolution you took earlier, the one of never hanging up, of never drawing a period to this moment, won't let you.

"This one sucks ass."

"It doesn't." He sounds calm, a bit quiet, tone low and collected. You wonder if he'd dropped whatever he was doing, whatever distraction and laid in bed like you, to listen and talk to you only. That would be nice. You're annoying as hell, poor him, he deserves better, but you're thankful for him.

"It's stabbing, how can it be nice?"

"You just- I don't even know why I'm arguing with you. You're drunk."

"Am not, you are."

He scoffs, doesn't bother insisting. He exhales deeply. You sigh as deep. Your lids are heavy. Your brain is fuming too. Your head feels fuzzy. You could sleep right now. You might make a terrible night. You might have nightmares. You might wake up in a few hours, hot and very bothered, frustrated and on edge. There's a little ping messing with an edge of your eyebrow. You know it'll grow into a headache soon.

"Junggoo..." You whimper as if he could help you. As if he's the key to this headache, to lock it away, along with the rest of your tormented feelings.

"You're tired, baby." He comments. You would bite if you were in front of him. He really wants to send you to bed. "Just go to sleep."

You should. Given that you need a good five minutes to find the energy to open your mouth and mumble, "Don't wanna."

"Then what is it that you want?"

"Told you."

"Hm?" You're not saying it again. You could fall asleep right now. With his slow breathing in your ear. It sounds so lovely. Feels like you've never been this nicely enveloped. It's like those ASMR or lo-fi music compilation videos on YouTube. The ones with the short scene, often animated, playing on the screen. It's instant peace, instant chill, purely quiet, greatly pleasant. You love these sceneries. You even have a few printed on your wall. They are great to look at and try to project in, because it seems you could never create this feeling, this atmosphere in real life.

But you've reached it. Now. The perfect peaceful land. With the perfect soundtrack coming through your phone. You're comfy and warm, it's almost as if he was actually there with you, wrapped behind you, stroking your hair. God, you wish he was there stroking your hair and kissing the top of your head. But he's not here. And why? He should be here. If he can be on the phone with you, when he used to come over to make sure the blanket is nicely tucked under your chin, why can't he be here? Life's so unfair.

"What was that?" He's probably referring to the big loud thump, throwing his toy to the ground made. It's not its fault. Even if it hurt your feelings, it's not responsible for him not being yours. Or maybe it is. He wouldn't give you toys if he were yours. He wouldn't need them. That's probably why Jiyeun doesn't like them. Because she wants him to be all that's pleasuring her. The lucky lucky bitch.

"Your stupid toy."

"Don't- do you know how much it cost?"

"Never told you to buy it."

"Sure, but don't break it! I promise it's good. You can't-"

"It stabbed me!" You accuse, petty.

"You- are insufferable." He sounds about done. Except he's not because he seems to want to prove you wrong, still. The toy on the ground starts shaking back to life. Curiously, you roll on your belly, throw a glance to the ground. It's stirring, moving around slowly, getting closer to you as if it's trying to hop back up on the bed. "Pick it up."

You do as you're told. It's vrooming lightly, quieter than you expected. You can hardly feel it in your palm. The movement more noticeable from the timid sound than by the intensity.

"Oh. It's nice now." Maybe it does have a conscience. It's being all sweet and mellow because the remote is in Jeon Jungkook, international heartthrob's hands.

"See?"

It's really gentle. It turns cute. With its bright orangy-red shade, its two cute ears and its belly, a bit domed to allow a better grip.

Your hand has a mind of its own. If he were to ask about it, to demand an explanation, even when you'll come later, and wonder mad and revolted and half dying of embarrassment, what the fuck came over you, you'd blame it all on your hand. The appendix and its own personal free will are bringing the thing back to your crotch. "You can switch the intensity, it was just at the highest before." You're hardly aware of Jungkook still talking in your ear. The phone on speaker is still laying on the pillow next to you and he's selling it to you, while demonstrating, as if he's signed a sponsorship with the brand. It could be funny but you don't really care, more curious about The Gala and finally getting to know it.

Soon enough you realize that two layers of clothing, no matter how thin, are too much. You lift the hem of his tee, exposing your panties and the lines of your mound, showing through the tissue. It makes sense then, the shape of the thing. It has those two straight ears, or poles, with enough space in between, to tuck your clit comfortably. If you'd like. And you're not sure it won the privilege just yet.

For now, it'll have it but still over your panties. They're so flimsy that really the fitting isn't too far from its initial conceptualized use. "And the modes- see," It's jerky again. It goes for a couple of beats very quick short pulses and then there's a long, monotone one until the pulses come back again. You don't like that one. It's gentler than the one from earlier, that tried to attack your clit with an angry strong beating though. "You can just switch. If you don't like the fast pulses, you don't have to use it. You just try it out." You guess he's right. You just have to try it, tame it. Learn its functions and let it learn you. Probably. Sounds like a lot of work though. The other ones were really straight forward. Good, excellent for some - special shout out to the clit hoover, which is not actually vacuuming but blowing air, which made you cum so fast and so hard in the very first two minutes of trying it. You'd turn it on and it'd do the job. Next to your ear, rambling like a radio you'd forget to turn off in another room, Jungkook is explaining how there are dozens of preset patterns and an infinite amount of slots for personal creations.

It's okay. Sounds like it would do the job. You can already tell how you'll use it if you ever decide to give it a second chance after tonight. Pressed tight against your button, turned a bit higher, in a very basic, very classic constant monotone vibration.

He's switched it to another stabbing like pulsing, very fast and aggressive, you can tell they meant to imitate the pattern of a good pounding but it does little to nothing to your excitation. Really all it does is make your eyebrows frown and your premise of a headache is back. "Hate that one."

"Change it." Kindly, he complies. Another one. You can't really identify it. Maybe a slower thrusting. It's better than the last one simply because it doesn't nearly hurt. Doesn't do much good either. But maybe it's not doing much over your panties though therefore curiously, with eyebrows furrowed now in concentration, you lift the waistband up with a finger and slip the bunny under it. Tentatively, you try to set it nicely where it should be resting, your clit out in the open, hugged tightly by the two ears replacing your lips. It's kinda nice. Barely though.

"So is-"

"Wait, turn it up a bit. I can't even tell what that's doing." You mumble maybe a tiny bit petty, a bit bad faith remaining from the bad impression the toy gave you. It's not that you want to hate because you've decided you would. It's more intricate than that. You're too tipsy to even try and explain that though.

"That one is-" After a while, doesn't do much. The higher setting, you suspect he hasn't gotten up a lot, hardly helps. It does vibrate but it doesn't seem to reach enough, your clit hardly feels anything. Your electrical toothbrush from your horny teenage years used to do a better job at being a vibrator -and this even over your jeans.

You're this close to throwing it to the ground again and give up on it, once and for all. Jungkook would need to understand. It's not because he spent a lot on it, it's not because that strange lady he keeps mentioning insisted on its good, that you are forced to appreciate it. You don't see the fucking point of this one. It does look cute and expensive but is pretty much useless. No one needs a pretty, expensive but awful friend.

"It sucks."

For a few seconds, he doesn't say anything. You consider that he might have even hung up. But then, in the quiet, his voice too serious for him not to have taken what you said personally breaks out. "You're mean."

"I think- I think it's a good opportunity to decide- uh..." The toy is still active in your panties, under your palm. The realization slowed your process of thought for a second but the bigger conclusion that it brings is that really, it sucks. So bad you even forgot it was still on -and it's not you being too drunk to have a fully, 360 awareness of your body, honestly. "To decide collectively that you need, you have to stop buying me those."

"They're not all bad! You loved the other ones!" He accuses, apparently not up for the collective decision. You are probably made of confusion at this point. How many more does he feel the need to get you? Is it that great, that gigantic, that tragic of a frustration that he developed by his girlfriend not liking these that he feels the need to bury you alive with thousands of those? The secretive shelf at the bottom of your dresser already holds little to no place left for another pretty box. And as to the satin bag you use to store the toys themselves, in your bedside table's drawer, you can't even close it anymore.

"When have I ever said that? We talked about one, I said it's fine."

"That's not what you said." Honestly, right now, you have no idea what you said. You know that you didn't find great easiness in talking about them. You've never mentioned any and he never did either, apart from the very first one. You did say something positive about it, you think you can recall. "I don't listen to you anyway because I know how bad of a liar you are."

"Well great. Blatantly admitting you don't care about my feelings-"

He bursts out in laughter. You might be a little bit of a drama queen right now. The hand that is not holding the bunny against your mound -for reasons you don't care to address to yourself, probably for you being so lazy that it feels more like an effort to change your hand's doing, take out and put away the toy, rather than just leave it there quiet and not really bothering- did reach for your chest, in a very theatrical embodiment of an offence.

"That's not what I said, you brat."

"That's what I heard though."

"I said I don't trust your mouth when the rest of you is saying something else entirely." You roll your eyes. Hopefully loud enough for him to hear it on his side of the call. "It's my new passion." He starts, giggling like an idiot. "I won't stop for as long as orgasms will look this good on you."

Oh. My God.

Is he allowed to say that? Is he allowed to say shit like that with the most calm you've ever heard anyone speak with? Like it's normal. Like it's a simple fact. Like the word orgasm in itself isn't so foreign in his mouth. Somehow he makes it sound incredible, so delicious you feel the first proper impulse to your pussy.

"You've never seen it." You counter, uneasy, feeling somehow unbalanced and unprepared against what is probably a simple conversation to him but a real personal attack with too great of weapons to you.

"I've seen the aftermath. I told you already." You wish he'd be more explicit. His words are confusing. They're not telling enough. They can be so much, they might not mean anything. He speaks softly, tranquilly, almost whispers in your ear. It's simply late. It's more appropriate, it feels, to speak quietly like that. It's one of those midnight talks.

He wouldn't know whenever he is seducing you. He's doing it constantly without meaning to. It's just him being himself and you being too weak for him. How could you make out his intentions now?

"You really-" The toy twitches in your hand. He clicked on the switch button of his app again. You're not sure why. From the way he speaks, he might not even have realised. He might be playing with the thing, mindlessly, the way he does when he picks at the skin of his fingers when he talks. He must be because he's still in his own head, talking while the thing, the barely interesting thing, turns into something else. Entirely. It's a wave-like pattern. Growing from pure stillness to a slow, growing vibration that ends in an intense climax. You gasp. He doesn't seem to hear. "You really don't want me to get you any more?"

The second wave hits. "Oh- God."

"I mean- I thought, we were- that it was okay." The sensation is incredible. For some reasons, a technology you don't fucking understand, you wouldn't fucking understand now, every single build hits insanely hard. Each time as intense if not better. You're so close to moaning. If you haven't really taken a second to realize what you were doing, actually using the toy with him on the phone, without him even knowing, somehow you know you need to remain quiet. You can't moan out loud. You sigh loud though. You have to. "I swear with you it's so hard to tell-" It's so hard to keep quiet and the realization brings a grin to your face. You're not that vocal usually. Sometimes you are, with some of the surprisingly good sessions Jungkook's presents have been offering you. But it was conscious. It was you enjoying, wanting to build a bigger pleasure, make it more sensational, it turned you on a bit, you had to admit, to hear yourself. The pleasure the toy is bringing you right now is indescribable. The more you leave it pressed to your clit, the more you feel the heat grow. You know it's already too much. You hiss and sigh, and have to bite back moans each time the high top of the wave comes. It's too much and feels like not enough.

The greedy you would want the final hit of the wave to last longer than those very few seconds. Long enough to bring you there, make you fall over the top of the hill. But it's a teasing setting. Probably programmed specifically for overstimulation. You squirm and bite back whines each time it comes, flinch and have to fight to not tear the ears away because you know the sensation is a lot to handle, too much stimulation, yet you're already addicted, unable to act on the very fair, logical, and sensible decision you should make. You shouldn't even be pleasuring yourself with him on the fucking phone.

"Are you okay?"

Jungkook asks, after having stopped talking altogether for a minute too long but it's not like you were really in any state of mind to acknowledge it.

You don't think he's noticed yet. From the noise, hopefully little, that you were making, at most, he should be able to hear some sort of short breathing, for all you know, he might think nausea is visiting from all the alcohol you've consumed and you're heaving, on the verge of throwing up.

"You're not feeling well, Y/N?" It's his concerned tone. The serious one. The one he uses whenever there's no skip button to the conversation. Usually, it leads to him coming over to take care of you like he's your mother. Which sounds great in theory but doesn't always apply wonderfully in practice.

Sometimes you don't want him to see you looking green and gross from fever sweat; sometimes you just want to be alone and recover on your own without having him watching so dramatically concerned over your shoulder. And now, you wouldn't want him to burst in with your hand still in your panties, a sweaty, bothered, horny mess for him to be left shocked and possibly disgusted by. Maybe disgusted is a big word. Or maybe it's not. How inappropriate is it to masturbate with an unknowing friend on the other end of your phone? Is it even legal?

"I'm fi-fine, Jungkook." You lie through gritted teeth. You can't possibly be fine. You've put yourself in the worst situation and you still don't do shit to get out of it. Something is very much wrong with you.

The logical thing to do, the sensible one, would be to either end the conversation, hang up and then eventually finish yourself; or else, take the thing out of your panties, possibly throw it the further away from you and keep the conversation on if that's what you wish to do.

It would certainly not be to ask for him to turn up the setting because you now really much want to come.

"You don't sound fine."

"But I am."

"How much did you drink?"

"Not that much, Guk." He makes you frown, almost rips a curse out of you. Because all this serious talk is diverting you from your pleasure. It's not like you're going to have fucking alcohol poisoning. You didn't drink that much, honestly. The drinks were not even that heavy, except for the two disgusting shots your friend forced in your hands. "Seriously, I'm good." The building up pleasure has brought a new awareness to your brain, and honestly, you feel way more alert than before. You're far from drunk, no matter how much your behaviour seems to contradict that. You're good. You'd be perfect if he'd shut up or if he'd start half seducing you as he does. Maybe he could talk about your nipples again and what you should do with them.

He did say that. Now that you come to think of it. On top of buying you those toys, he did guide you as to what to do with some of them, how you could use them. They were not his direct advice, they were the lady's but still, he felt the importance to share them with you.

"If you are then just answer the question, how much?"

"Okay in a sec but can you turn up the toy's intensity, please?"

"Turn what?" You almost bark then. The whistling f of a very practical, very useful word you shouldn't yell at him rings to your own ear but you're strong enough to hold back. "Ah the thing, yeah, sure." What a sweetheart. A bit slow, but lovely. Your whole body contracts violently when the newly powered wave hits, the beginning of a moan escaping because it's so good, it's almost painful. "I had like two shots of-" Ah. "Something. I don't know what it was, just-" Fuck. "Gross as- uh." Holy shit, that's good.

You can't believe you've judged this intricate, revolutionary technology so bad before. "And then, like, a martini or two, barely and- and-" You're so fucking close. Each time feels like the final ascension except you get back to square one whenever the vibration drops back to stillness too quick to your liking. It's pure torture. And having to make a fucking list of your consumption that's so far back in your brain right now, especially when you know that it's pointless, is not helping.

"Wait-"

"Jungkook-" You don't know if you're begging him to stop thinking now, not get to the conclusion his logical train of thoughts is trying to lead him to, or if you're begging him to help you cum, maybe be nice to the bunny which only seems to be kind to him and make him make you cum.

"Why did you ask me to turn the thing up?" He already knows the answer. You can hear in his tone that he already knows. And frankly, he's a dumb ass for not realizing sooner. "No, you're joking. You wouldn't- not when I'm talking to you."

"When if not then?" Maybe frustration has brought you some bravery, or maybe pleasure has burned the very last remaining functioning cells of your brain.

"Uh?"

It's probably gone too far now. It still feels like he owns the key to the phenomenal orgasm you can smell coming. If you were to hang up now, you wouldn't even know how to make this shitty thing work. And it's not enough. Still.

Shit.

You're definitely wailing in a second now. The next sound you mean to conceal is a sob. Why can't you reach it? And how can you be so hyper-focused on it, it doesn't seem to matter what's going on with Jungkook.

You've gone crazy. Or perhaps you're drunker than you thought yourself to be. The last wave hits differently. It's straight-up overstimulation when you haven't even come once yet. Doesn't feel very nice but at least, it's the push you need to finally lift it up a bit, make a pause and eventually show some consideration to Jungkook.

"So you've been arguing with me, saying it sucks when really you were-"

"It did suck before you changed the setting." You assert again. Because nagging is the thing you're most talented at doing, apparently.

Silence ensues. In the defeating quiet you realize even the discreet humming of the toy has stopped. He's turned it off.

Something akin to shame is finally showing the tip of its nose. It's been fucking late to the party, you note with a growing, you know to become, devastating mortification. Exhaustion and tipsiness are keeping your conscience quite numb but you don't give a chance to sober-you who'll wake up tomorrow with this awful incident engraved in her memory.

Why can't he say something? Essentially, it's his fault. It's always his fault. He makes you feel things you shouldn't and make you do things you wouldn't. You can't think properly. You're being fucking chaotic and he's responsible for that. Even you know it's reaching. You're not that petty and mean.

In a whisper, dipped in sincerity and shame, you apologize. "Sorry, Jungkook."

"For what?" Because he can't let you off the hook that easily, can he?

"Are you seriously going to make me say it? You know why!" Here comes angry-you again. Getting mad and rude for no rational reasons, and here, awfully unfairly. He really deserves better.

"No, I-" You may have broken him. Jungkook has never been the most eloquent person. Between lisping and stuttering and stopping mid-sentence to let you complete for him his missing words, he's never been the best at talking. But even for him, even knowing his history, you find him pretty affected. Possibly all messed up. There's not even the hint of sensible thought. A void filled with "uh" and "tsk" and lips smacking and hums, it's like he's ceased to function. Maybe if you just hang up and from then on, just pretend it's never happened, both of you can get away with the situation. It's an option.

"Jungkook, seriously, I'm sorry. Let's say it was a fucking, uh, drunk lapse of judgment on my part and- yeah, never mention it again."

"Yeah, okay." He whispers after a while. He sounds really shaken up. "But it's fine, I'm not mad, I'm just-"

"Bamboozled?" You suggest, heart constricted, not ready to joke yet but so desperate to obtain at least a smile from him to prove yourself that it's okay and you didn't fuck it up too bad.

"Bamboozled, indeed." He chuckles, a bit breathless on the phone. You can't help the big sigh that escapes you when relief rushes through you. He doesn't sound too upset with you. "I'm really not mad, I just wouldn't have- I wouldn't have expected this, from you."

Of course not. It makes you cringe. You bury your face in your pillow and release the most intense quiet cry you could manage.

"Sorry." You say again, quiet. Your eyes are prickly. This night is such a mess. You can't make out how you're feeling. It's like your reactions and your reflections all come to their own rhythm, inappropriately, unmatching each other's and certainly unmatching the current situation.

"Stop. And don't-" If you're decomposing yourself progressively, at least, he seems to be getting back to his senses. Voice clearer and more present. "You sound so upset now. Are you embarrassed?" It's a smile you hear in his words. You don't have the right to be mad at him but honestly, you would have hit him in the ribs if he were in front of you.

"Is it even necessary to ask?" You grumble face half suffocating still in the pillow. Oh, here's another solution. Suffocating yourself to death.

"I think so. I mean I bought them and I turned it on for you, I should have- I couldn't have known but I should have. It's fine honestly."

"It's not."

Stop pretending, you fucking liar. Even if he acts quite calm, nonchalant, you can hear a very slight difference to his usual tone. He's not sincerely, honestly, a hundred per cent okay and chill with the situation. He's faking casualness but he's not entirely it.

"It is."

"It's not. I'm just gonna die, Jeon." That makes him laugh even though you're only half-joking. You don't know if it's possible to die from embarrassment. One thing is for sure, if it's possible, you won't survive the night.

"No, you're not, baby. It's fine." Jeon Jungkook is the sweetest, needless to say. You should hang up. Apologize again, hang up and pray for him to forgive you and eventually forget all about it. But you remain on the phone because you're so desperate for his approbation and his love and any sign of reassurance from him. And he's giving it to you. When he could probably have a little rest of his own. If it's awkward for you, you can't even imagine for him. But he accepts to stay and reassures you. What a cutie. "Did you cum?"

You choke on your own saliva. More than taken aback, actually shocked. How dares he?

Or can you say that? Can you act offended when you've just done what you did? In any case, how are you even supposed to answer that question?

"You- It's just that I turned it off and we- I was just wondering if you did..." That sounds about right. That sounds like Jungkook being curious and wording this curiosity without necessarily anticipating how you'd take it. It must be part of his plan, his 'let's be the closest, let's share everything' plan he mentioned a few months back. You're not ready, won't ever be if that's what it'll look like.

You are the problem. Apparently, you can get yourself off when the poor boy is on the phone with you unbeknownst, but you still have a hard time talking about sex with him. "...because it sounds awful if you did not."

And it is. It is horrible. You'd imagine that after getting caught, feeling so embarrassed and guilty, your cunt wouldn't still be quivering and begging for you to pay attention to it again. But you've taken it so far. Made it discover new incredible sensations of course it'd still be obsessed with it and with the climax the toy teased it with.

You groan in your pillow again. Not sure how he'll interpret it. Not sure how you want him to interpret it. Should you just talk to him? He could hang up too. If really he didn't want to partake in this mess he could hang up, he could talk about anything else.

"Listen, you don't ever have to be embarrassed with me, you know that." That's reaching. You want to tell him that he can't ever say that to someone, he can't ever become anyone's mat to wipe their dirty shoes on. He should be the one feeling awkward, being mad at you, except he reassures you again. "And when you just proceed on getting yourself off while I was talking- worrying about your fucking health..." He snorts before he can finish. "How dare you act coy with me!" He's just laughing too hard now, contributing wholeheartedly to the burning flush on your cheeks. Well, you deserved it.

"Is that it? You're going to bring this up each time you'd want something from me?" You sound so upset, even to your own ears. It results in his laughter dying down pretty quickly.

"I think so, yeah." You don't add anything. You don't want to be rude. Still hope for any kind of magic word you don't even know that he could mutter to you and that'll help cure your heart and soul. Therefore you can't tell him goodbye and hang up. You wait for him to do it. Except he doesn't. It's late as fuck too. He might be working later today. Why isn't he hanging up? "If I'm talking about it, you should know that it's fine. I don't mind." An asshole and a cutie. "You okay, babe?"

The simple hum you tried to aim for turns into half of a whimper half of a moan. You're not okay. Any part of your being won't let you lie and pretend.

"Do you want me to turn it on?" For fuck's sake. "I'll hang up and leave it on so you just- it'll turn itself off when there's no battery left anyway."

"Jungkook." Your stern voice is a threat. It doesn't have to be further explained, he gets it.

"What?" He sounds aggravated. You can imagine him raising his hands to the skies, upset and losing patience as he's only trying to make it better for you and oh women are so complicated. Something like that. "Oh my God. Just get yourself off and feel better after."

"You don't tell me what to do." Childish but there's not much left of your brain. "Well, you don't even fucking know what to do with yourself right now. Am I right or am I right?" He whisper-yells back at you. Very mean.

"Asshole." It's a tiny whisper under your breath but you're certain he hears it even if he completely ignores it.

"Listen, since you can't even- how old are you, seriously?"

"Fuck you." Barely louder. You definitely know he's heard this time, but still, he decides to dismiss it. He's always been more productive than you.

"I'll turn it on and hang up. You take care of yourself like a big girl, alright?" He probably believes that you can't get yourself to ask for what you want aka a wild night with the fucking toy you can't get to work yourself. But it's not actually the case. Honestly. Now all you can think about -besides the whole very humiliating moment when he caught you in the act- is the way it kept torturing you, bringing you very high but never enough. It started to hurt at the end, brought impatient frustrated tears to your eyes. You don't even think you could finish with it.

Maybe it's inappropriate to seriously consider it. Maybe you won't ever learn your lesson.

Before you even get to word your refusal, the thing is on. It's on the same devilish setting as earlier. The merciless wave. Fuck.

"Don't! It's not- it won't even make me cum, stop it!"

"What? Why not?"

"I don't know the setting is weird." You start explaining through the thicker pout to have ever existed. You're really considering having him solve your climax. You've gone crazy.

"What's wrong with it? Tell me, I'll put on one you like."

Fuck.

You are doomed.

What are you supposed to do with a guy like this?

"I don't think there is." You can hear the frustration from his end before he even says a word. It's written in the stars that in a second he's going to bring it all up, the part when you got off and pester that you can't still be complaining about the fucking toy. "No, I mean it's- the one I liked, the last one you clicked on, it's like-" Fuck, you're really doing this. "A wave. You know? It grows crescendo but it always stops right before- right when it's really good. And I just couldn't- because the good part doesn't last long enough and, yeah."

"Wait, let me look." He sounds a bit further away from you then. He's logged back into the app, you can tell. And with his tiny "hm" and his "so...", he sounds the way he does when your computer is being difficult and he's trying to fix it because you won't pay a professional to do it when you have this nerd populating your entourage. "Ah. You want the high moment to last longer?" "Yes." You can picture him nod to himself, frowning his eyebrows and sucking his lips in the way he does when he's super focused.

"Like that?" You wouldn't know because the toy is lost somewhere, you can hear it but not see it. You ask him to wait for a second and it stops altogether. Doesn't make it easier to find it but it wasn't lost that far. Once you have it in your hand, you gulp, ashamed, not sure if you could ever play with this thing again. But the other guy on the phone doesn't seem to have his motivation falters. You're not the one telling him to try again, on his own, he executes.

It's hard to tell in your hand, the vibrating ears hugged tightly in your palm, if it's going to be satisfactory enough. If it's precisely the thing that was missing from earlier. It follows the pattern you asked him though. Still to a growing intense high that lasts for approximately a good ten seconds rather than the lame 2 seconds from earlier.

"I think so..."

"Okay then. You... mute yourself and then- Uh, no. I should mute myself so- or we both mute ourselves?" He's not really with you anymore. Lost in his own head amongst those seemingly very difficult questions. You don't even get where he's trying to get at. Wasn't he supposed to hang up?

"Why would you stay?"

"It's just- it's me doing it. There's no setting for what you want, it's me doing it. I have to draw the frequency on my phone."

"There's an option for that?"

"Yes. There's even one to have it follow audio!" He points out with way too much enthusiasm. He might have really found a new passion.

"Sounds like high tech."

"Yep."

"Sounds expensive as hell."

He laughs in the mic, snorts even before he brushes it off. Quite frankly, no matter what you'd have to say to him, he'd always do as he wishes. If spending ridiculous amounts of money on ridiculous things for ridiculous you is what he wants to do, he won't let anyone, not even you, tell him not to.

You don't know what to say, he's not saying anything either. He suggested something quite insane: he'd stay. While his finger would be drawing shapes on his screen to actively give you your pleasure, he'd stay on the phone with you. Maybe it's a bit hypocritical or ironical, how it sounds crazy to you now while ten minutes ago, you had no problem doing it without him knowing. That's probably the main issue here, him knowing. That changes everything.

"But if you stay-"

"We can't both mute ourselves because I won't hear if you ask me to change something or- so you, you just stay like that and I'll mute myself."

"Jungkook, you muting yourself won't change my awareness of you being here."

"But maybe you'll forget about it?"

"Jungkook."

"What?" He sounds contrite then. Like an upset child who's being argued with. He's trying so hard but you make it so difficult, it seems.

There's just one thing holding you back. Until now you couldn't quite pinpoint it. And it's hard to resolve an issue you can't name.

But it just hit you. His way of insisting while making it seem like he does it for you only, to help you out and doesn't necessarily find his part in the cake.

"Do you want to?"

"Uh?"

"You sound like- I don't know what you sound like. You're confusing. If you're just trying to give me a hand and solely that then hang up and I'll just- whatever."

"Oh."

"Of course, it makes no sense for you to do this for me and stay if you don't want to, I mean." He takes forever to answer. For a second, you even peek at your screen wondering if he didn't simply quit the conversation.

It's really all you need to know. If somehow, to some extent, he wants you or at least, wants to partake in this genuinely. You don't want it if it's just a bro hand. You can hardly live with what you've done if he's utterly uninterested. But if he does want it, even a little bit, you might be wrong but you feel like everything would turn out to be fine.

"It's not that hard of a question." You try again because it almost feels like he's forgotten you from how long he's remained silent. He had put you on the spot, in this very conversation too, so many times, you have the right to do the same to him, at least once. "Do you want to stay?"

He cracks up. It's the very hard kind of laughter. With the boyish chuckles, mixed with the squeaky intakes of air. The one that always brings a smile to your face and usually drags you along the fit.

You have no idea what it means right now. It's probably the least appropriate time for it to show up. Therefore instead of making you smile it only reinforces the headache slowly growing at your temple.

"Aah." He starts by exhaling longly. You can hear the grin fixed on his face. "Yes." Your heart trips in your rib cage. You should have guessed it but you couldn't have imagined this answer. And him laughing to tears like a fucking deranged infant doesn't help. "Shit, sorry." He apologized when the remnant of what sounds definitely like a giggle resonates in through the phone.

"What's so funny, Guk?" Your words don't match your tone. You're high under pressure, unsure of what's actually going on. Jungkook is not cruel, you've known him long enough to know that he wouldn't deliberately hurt you, wouldn't mess with you so bad, for so long, even for a great laugh. Still, you can't be convinced that he's sincere. Seriously, how could you? The dude won't stop fucking laughing.

"Nothing, I'm just- I didn't realize until you asked me the question that I wanted to." Oh. "I'm an idiot."

"Welp." Could have told you sooner but I thought you knew.

"Mean. And, uh," It sounds like he's tossing and turning in bed again. You bet he's just gotten the exact same position as before. He's like those cats that turn around in circles again and again until they settle for the initial spot. When he starts talking again, his voice is hardly a whisper, you assume he's holding the mic very close to his mouth. "I should ask you too. Do you want to?"

"I wouldn't ask if I didn't want it, moron." Patience has run thin. Now that you're reassured you don't have to be ashamed and embarrassed anymore, you can simply be annoyed as you get with him.

Honestly, you're still feeling abashed but he doesn't need to know that.

"Quit being mean. It's not my fault I'm slow." He says, faking deep pity and it does make you snort. "Okay, well..."

"Well, indeed."

"You're making this awkward!" You roll your eyes. Feels like you can sort this out. If you do take out the very blatant, scorching awkwardness, it's a very regular interaction between you. Sounds like any other day except in a second he's going to press a finger to his phone in hopes to make you cum.

"Your whole existence is awkward."

"Shut up. Let's just fucking start." He groans as if you're the one belating the initial step –you are but so is he.

"I don't have the fucking remote." He tells you to shut up again, and this time, when you hear him hum to himself when he's opening the app, there's a recognizable brushing noise falling directly in your ear.

"You put your earbuds on."

He doesn't answer but you're sure he's registered the question.

Fine.

If he doesn't want to give you an answer you'll just make up your own. Don't you put earbuds on to hear better? Just saying.

"Put the thing on."

"Oh my God, Jungkook-" You take back your own admission. He's the one, solely, all alone, making it painfully awkward. Sounding like a newly pubescent teen trying to initiate sex. "Could you be any smoother?"

"But-" He sighs. "Do you want me to?" How do you ask your best friend you've may have been in love with for officially a couple of months to please act like an ideal lover even if it's just very short-termed? He sounds willing. But asking is the most difficult part. "I can be- or do whatever you want, I just don't know-"

"I like it when you call me baby." Your whole face is scrunched up in a perfect picture of your intense embarrassment. Formalities need to get fucking out of the way and it's precisely what you've just tried to do. But holy shit, it's painfully embarrassing.

"Oh. Do you now?"

Here comes the smirk. Can't see it. Can hear it clearly. It's pretty much louder than his words even.

You want to tell him to forget it all. That it's not going to work if each fucking second he makes you feel like he's going to be using whatever you say or whatever you do against you later on. You decide to demonstrate exemplary patience, reminding yourself that he's not cruel. Admittedly.

Perhaps you're the idiot and it's all your fault. Because you've just admitted (without him even asking) that you like (and into these circumstances, that it turns you on) to have him call you baby. Thing that he does already every time he starts coddling you.

"Okay then." He startles you, clearing his throat. You wonder if he's as anxious as you are, or at least, a tiny bit nervous. For the most part, he doesn't seem like it. Then again, he's quite good at pretending.

It shows soon after when he starts again, this time with the gentle, soft voice he hardly ever uses with you. There's a tiny newcomer, a certain edge that gives it some firmness and that enchants you. That's exactly what you wanted him to be. "Put it on, babe."

You nod wordlessly, omitting that he can't see you and do as told. Slipping the toy under the waistband of your panties, guiding the ears aside your clit. There's a very faint buzzing coming from them. You barely feel it and you suppose it's just there to have you accommodate better.

"Are you still dressed?"

"It's just my panties and a big shirt." Your shirt you'd add if you had a bit more courage. You hope he's going to let you keep it.

"Take your panties off." The part of you who's his best friend wants to nag, tell him that maybe he should have asked that before demanding you place the toy on your cunt but you feel generous and merciful, and also desperate and tired of your orgasm being stalled for so long. "Are they soaked from earlier?" Okay, this shit's going to be hard. There's no coming back. Strangely, it's just now that it's really hitting you. Even if it's going well, there is no way, you'll ever forget his velvety smooth whisper saying those words. There's no way you're helpless cunt ever forgets.

They are, by the way. You don't even get how you've been able to keep them on and ignore the uncomfortable stickiness for this long. Just sliding them along your thighs feels disagreeable.

"Y/N." Sounds like you're getting scolded. And even if you particularly like the way he just said your name, with that same peculiar edge from earlier, a little sharper then, how are you supposed to answer that? "What did you say earlier? That it can't only be for you, is that right?"

"Yes." You admit sheepishly because now you're definitely getting scolded. It brings flush on your only newly temperate cheeks and you don't even hate it.

"Then I'll give you everything, I told you I would but I'll need you to give me some back. Can you do that?" He sounds so strict, how can you like it so much? You can literally feel the electricity along your spine, sliding down to go faint in the hot mess between your thighs and that's ridiculous. You hate being talked to that way, usually, probably because it's never him doing it. Jeon Jungkook might be your ultimate kink. And somehow, he figured it all out. That whatever he'd do would fit you perfectly well. Also, he might be turning like that because undeniably, you're a brat. "Can you?" He insists again because whilst you've been busy trying not to hyperventilate, he's been waiting for one answer.

"Yes. Yes, I can. Sorry."

"Don't apologize, it's fine." You should want to bite him. Why insist so much if it's to end up leaving you off the hook so easily? You know though, for a fact, awfully bothersome to your ego, that if he were in front of you presently, you'd give him puppy eyes and batting lashes, sad pouty lips and probably tend your neck to invite him to gently pat your hair. "Tell me, are your panties soaked?" "I think I ruined them..."

"You did, didn't you?" He's laughing a bit, kind of full of himself for some reasons. Maybe he knows that it's mainly his fault they ended up this way. Maybe he knows they are not the only pair fallen victim to simply the thought of him. "Was it worth it?"

"You're taking care of me so I'd say yes." A chortle. A purr that you interpret into something you like a lot. It sounds like he's taken your response for exactly what you wished him to. A tease. He makes your belly churns and twists, turns your nerves from your heart to your noggins haywire. The least he can allow you to do, the least you'd like to do, is for him to be affected by you.

It starts with a gentle buzzing. It's nothing much. Nothing at all, you'd say if you'd let your greediness and impatience talk. There's something else doing it for you, for now. Jungkook's breath, sort of heavy, slow, rocking you with warmth. Knowing he's here and here to please you; you're laid in bed, naked from the waist down, wet and about to make it all better thanks to him; the picture itself makes it all for you.

"How is it?" Jungkook asks after some time. It's been silent. You haven't said much, in fact, you haven't said anything yet. Not that ready to demand more, and not feeling enough for moans or whimpers or whatever to be stolen from you.

"Boring." You admit. "S'not what you were supposed to give me." Through a thick pout, you deplore.

It doesn't work. He doesn't care. He doesn't fucking care when he's playing exactly the role you've implicitly asked him to play. "Have you said please, even once?" You hate that he's virtually pinning you down with exactly what turns you on.

"I- Probably." You haven't said much. You haven't been so explicit, so telling simply because you couldn't, but surely, you said please. Didn't you?

"Not probably. You did not. And on top of that, you're complaining." He's figured out exactly what you wanted, what you needed. Therefore, as naturally as it came for him, you fit it your own role easily.

"I'm not complaining. I was just- pointing it out. Sorry."

"You can apologize a lot but you can't even say please. Not once." Well, fuck. You never thought that he could be mean. Awfully mean. You wished, when you let your mind wander there one too many time, a bit too deep, that he'd be like that. Sweet and soft and tender the way he is, always, but also, bad, kind of harsh. "Ask kindly, once."

"Jungkook-"

"I'll give you everything you want. Just once."

"Please, Jungkook." You know he's satisfied with what you offer him because you don't have to wait another second for him to give you precisely what you were waiting for. It's timid, follows the crescendo built you were looking for except it's not intense. It's the first step however it's incredibly effective. It feels as good as the first time. "Plea-please." Manifestly, it is the secret word, the passcode to your pleasure because the intensity you're craving for finally reaches you. It does in an electrifying peak, that lasts long, just like you asked, it's so good, the feeling so perfectly indulgent to your needs, maybe even too much, you squirm, part the little ears from your clit, hissing. "Shit, Jungkook!"

"Too much, baby?" The hypocrite, with his concerned tone, doesn't even take a break from activating the vibration, from keeping on building the intensiveness. You can tell it's he too, him really doing it live, as in it's not absolutely regular, the built sometimes takes longer, sometimes the volume stronger, other times weaker. It's undeniable, every minute of it feels different from the next, you can't even omit for a second that it's him doing it. And he's doing it so well.

"Per- fect, just- sensitive." You moan out. Back arching, right leg twitching. The next brush is particularly nice, goes so far you believe you might come on the spot. Now you definitely can't hold back even if you wanted to. The sounds that come out of your mouth, foreign to your own ears, are not even yours. They come straight from your body, straight from an excess of pleasure you try to deal with, to handle, when you clearly can't. You're alone, and it's you ultimately controlling the power on your own body, you can pull out, even slightly, every time it comes hard and strong and you ought to twitch uncomfortably. You wonder how it'd be if he were here with you. If he forgot just for a while that you were his best friend, the girl who used to be older and taller and has turned, with the years, into this tiny little thing because he just kept on growing and growing, sprouting like a fucking redwood, and now feels like he needs to protect and care for you. If he were there, and he could forget that, you bet, his present voice, heated, scorching, is telling you this, that probably, he'd hold you down, crush your body with his, hand pressing your thighs down and apart, and force you to take the pleasure in its entirety. You imagine him merciless, slipping sweet words in your ear, while he'd have you literally scream from overstimulation.

And then his voice, the perfectly alluring thing, concludes to let you know it won't happen like that. His voice will make you come.

"You sound so good." Especially, if he keeps saying shit like that, with this tone, soft yet strong and highly, terribly affected. He's breathing hot and heavy in your ears. Is he touching himself?

"Please, Jungkook." You implore, vainly, hips slowly grinding against the toy, pressed by your palm on your sensitive centre.

"Especially begging, 'sound so, so good." He's not touching himself. He sounds bothered, but not enough, he doesn't stutter like you do, his voice doesn't jump and dip, stops momentarily like yours does. Shit, you wished he would play with his cock. Fuck, you want to play with his cock. So fucking bad.

"Y-you like it?" You ask, not because you're curious to know, he's said it already, but because you won't ever get tired of hearing him say it, in all those different ways.

"I do, baby. I love hearing you." You can't help the curse that leaves your lips a bit harsh. You're so close. So so close. Eyes filled up to the brim, tip of your nose wet. How many times have you thought, already, that you were seriously going to fall over? "You gonna cum?"

"I can't-" You sob, whine. There's a tear spilling from your right eye. "It's too much." So attentive to your every word, the intensity drops drastically. It still buzzes, discreet, way more tolerable. Ironically, if you can now bear it, you know it's not enough to lead you to your climax either. "Help me, make me cum, Guk."

"Use your fingers." He's been nice, essentially, you can only be good to him. Without even having to think about it, you dip your fingers in the mess that is your cunt. Two fingers slip in between your lips too easily, you could add a third if only there wasn't the bunny taking a bit too much room, and your fingers were longer, and your hips not so twitchy. If Jungkook was here, if only he was here, he'd fit his two fingers and it'd be enough. You bet it'd be enough. You bet his pretty, long, tattooed fingers would stretch you so well and make you come in a heartbeat. "Fuck yourself with them."

It's so gratifying. Having him humming in your ear encouragements and compliments. He's sweet, sweet, sweet. Excellent with his voice. Fuck, he must be unreal with his fingers, with his mouth, with his fat cock.

Diligently, you drag your fingers in and out, it's only mildly agreeable when you're sopping wet, almost gaping. Until he draws on his phone the same magnificent pattern from before.

You wish it'd last longer. It's precisely what you needed, the ideal combination. Along with his words.

You know if you come he'd have to stop. He'll stop calling you baby, stop saying how sexy you are, use all those nasty words he never does and talking like that, with this voice, with this heat in his tone. It's a bothering thought at the back of your mind you have to actively push away.

There's nothing you can do when harshly, yet with a please, he demands you to cum.

You can feel your cunt, wide open from both your spread legs and the excitation, getting wet, growing soaked. You can actually feel it as it happens before you explode. Clenching violently around your fingers, spilling all over them, you might squeak and scream and moan his name continuously, you barely hear yourself through your ringing ears.

"Fuck, Jungkook..." You sigh. Laying there, boneless, hand dripping up to your wrist. He's chuckling. "Fuck."

"Feeling better?" You hmm in response. Words sound like too much effort right now. Your brain is working slow. Extremely slowly. There's a multitude of thoughts forming though, germinating from a strange ground.

One, in particular, does, enlarging ridiculously much next to the others. You could enjoy this luck. You could just bathe in the lovely, perfect haze. Accept that the sky is perfectly blue without a cloud, with even a rainbow somewhere. Maybe a double rainbow even.

There's a very, very dark, very, very large cloud invading your perfect sky though. And because tears, of another kind, have already located your eyes, the new ones fit in, mixing up with them and taking over them with utter ease. What the fuck have you done?

"Jungkook, I'm so sorry-" You start with a tremble in the voice. There's a fat lump in your throat.

"Why? What's going on, baby?" He's sweet as honey, back to his usual self, worried, and you're horrible.

"Your- I didn't even think about her and-" There's a sob bubbling out of your mouth. "It's not me. I didn't mean to-"

"What are you talking about?"

"Jiyeun." The taste in your mouth when you say her name, is unbearable. You know full fucking well you shouldn't say her name. You shouldn't be allowed to. How dare you. Spoil it when you spent way too long virtually getting in this guy's, who's someone else's boyfriend, pants.

"Dumbass." It makes you choke on your own sobs. "It's over. With her, I mean. We broke up." Ah. You want to ask a billion questions. Starting with "again?". Soon followed up by a "why didn't you say anything, dickhead?". You spent the whole fucking night, getting shit faced and spiritually crying in the club over a couple that does not even exist anymore. Then you'd ask for how long they are planning to be over. "For good, this time." You're barely drying up your fat crocodile tears when he calls you an idiot again, says something about how he's not that kind of guy and you should know it.

Feels better. The thunderstorm is gone.

Alcohol and horniness and hardcore loving are such a terrible combo you need to avoid.

"Cuddles." Tiredly, half-dead, but still alive enough to be greedy, to feel sensible, skinned and want him to give you more. "Come cuddle." He's late to answer, delays it as if you don't desperately need his response.

It's terribly quiet and still. The dark of the night seems even more sombre. He can fix everything if only he'd give you the answer you desire.

"You sure?"

"Always." You say, maybe too honest. He doesn't seem to mind, agrees with a snort.

"Alright."

He appears in front of you in the blink of an eye. Literally. That blink does last longer than usual. The orgasm may have crushed you. You close your eyes and when you open them back up, he's here. Standing in the doorframe of your bedroom, dressed in all black and oversized, as usual. You look up, eyes squinted, bothered by the light coming from the hallway. He's staring. Gaze brushing, from your head to your toes, seemingly slowing down when they reach your naked thighs.

"What?" You mumble, embarrassed, one hand sliding down just to make sure the hem of the shirt is covering your crotch. You didn't even put your panties back on. You may or may not have wiped yourself clean enough with the wet wipes wisely sitting on your bedside table -you thought about it really hard but you can’t remember if you actually did it.

"You never mentioned it was my t-shirt you were wearing." You shrug. You'd have a better come back if you weren't so tired and if it wasn't simply true. "Would have been nice to know." He says, kneeling down next to your bed. The latter is low, mattress barely raised from the ground and even when he's crouching down, he's hovering above you, looking down on you. "Easier to picture." He adds quieter the closest he comes to you. It's enough words to know who he is at the moment. In what form, what version of your Jeon Jungkook, has come to visit. It's the gentle one. The one whose voice doesn't raise, doesn't feel as animated as his usual one when he spends his time being a clown to make everyone laughs. The one that made you fall, the first time. Not exactly the one you had on the phone with you earlier and even if you like him, if you adore him in fact, you feel sort of uneasy, worried. He might be gone forever, this one.

Unless it is him. His hands reach forward, large and warm, they lie on your thighs. The fingers brush up a bit, to the hem of his shirt, and they stop there. He looks up from them, straight in your eyes, smiles, digs the tips in the meat of your thighs before he lifts you up, aiming for the border of your bed.

God. You hope it'll happen again. But differently. More in-depth. He'd be less dressed, he would manhandle you, before he'd do some unnamable things to you. But another day. One when you're not almost dead. When you feel hornier and less soft and desperate for direct comfort to your swollen heart. It could be tomorrow when you wake up. If he's up for it. Please God, make it so he's up for it.

Jungkook hops on the bed behind you, huffs comfortably, holding your cover by a corner to bring it up and over the two of you. He fits behind you too naturally for it to be the first time. He doesn't seem to mind that you're so underdressed, compared to the other times, that you still have some remnant of your orgasm on you, that it's different. His arm sliding around you, holding a bit too tight, pressing you a tiny bit too hard, you're still hot from earlier. It's perfect though. You don't want him to move an inch and you hope, the hand that's wrapped on his forearm, makes him understand.

"M'not too clingy?" His own cheek pressed hard to your own, he asks, which is weird. How could he still wonder? He's never ever been too clingy. Even when you were kids and he followed you around before even asking if he could, he wasn't too clingy. The closest, the better. You deny with a uh-uh. He calls out for your name when you're fighting to keep your eyelids open. It's the most comfortable, the warmest you've ever felt. Like a cocoon of pure love and adoration. On top of it, there's his hard arms around you, his hard thigh pushing against yours, his crotch -with the feel of his member, slightly stiff- glued to your butt, and his chest, as hard as the rest, holding your back up like a strong wall. "I promise I didn't plan the whole toys thingy for that."

"For what?" Sleepily, you wonder, actually confused from exhaustion. To cuddle with you? Like you haven't in so, so long. Why would he try to apologize for it? "To use them with you."

"What a shame." You don't think he can understand. Diction is not something you care for at the moment. The hard laugh bubbling in his chest, rumbling, shaking your whole, lets you know he did, in fact, get it.

"You're so-" He starts but the thought dies way too soon for you to even try and complete it yourself. "I'll have a billion questions for you tomorrow."

"No." You whine. Because he's fucking up everything. If he believes you'll say it all to him, there's no way you can. There's no way you will. He chuckles.

Doesn't seem to be taking you seriously.

"Yes. And you'll answer every single one of them." He gives a sweet but pressing kiss to your neck.

"No."

"I adore you." Fucking hell. "I broke up with Jiyeun because I adore you too much. I realized I want to spend all my time and energy on my best friend." You don't even know what he means. You can't even hold your eyelids open now, you can't even keep your hand on his arm, it being too heavy and sleep having taken over most of your body.

You bet he's saying that just because he's guessed it. He's figured you all out and the asshole doesn't mind playing with your soft heart. He knows he'll get anything from you if he's this good. Hopefully, tomorrow, he'll have forgotten about his little interrogation because you're not sure you'll be able to lie. For now, he's holding you way too close for you to care. Whatever. May it last forever, this feeling.

A/N: DON’T HATE ME OKAY?! i know i have an issue with angst and endings, for some reasons, i don’t want to hurt my characters but i can’t get myself to write an actual fully happy, non-ambiguous conclusion, and i’m really sorry for it lmao.

i sincerely hope you enjoyed the last part of The Wishlist! Thank you immensely for anyone who’s followed along, please let me know your thoughts, i really really want to know :)

for now, i’m sending you lots of love and kisses, take good care of yourself and others, see ya very very soon :]

tag list: @safi4x @kai-kai-bookshelf @somewhereinthestarss @hsinmyheart @moonchild1 @monvieesdaebak @pasteljoonie @fangirls94 @jinsalpaca @ggukkieland

#btswriterscollective #ksmutclub #networkbangtan #ggukienet #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts angst #bts fluff #jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #my writing

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kazuyaasai-serenaspencerli · 2 years

Note

Can we have mlqc boys as parents

MLQC BOYS AS PARENTS

��——————ʕ·͡ˑ·ཻʔ♥︎ ———————

GAVIN

• LOVING AND PROTECTIVE PAPA

• HE'S NERVOUS AND EXCITED AT THE SAME TIME WHEN YOU TOLD HIM YOU'RE PREGNANT. HE'S ALSO WORRIED IF HE CAN BE A GOOD FATHER TO HIS CHILDREN.

• AND WHEN HE KNEW THE BABY'S GENDER MONTHS AFTER, HE IS OVERJOYED TO KNOW THAT YOU TWO ARE GOING TO HAVE A DAUGHTER

• HE WANTS HIS DAUGHTER TO GROW UP FULL OF LOVE AND PROTECTION. TO GROW UP GENTLE AND HUMBLE LIKE YOU.

• HE STOPPED TAKING DANGEROUS MISSIONS AND DO MORE PAPER WORKS AS THE MONTHS GOES BY, AROUSING QUESTIONS FROM THE AGENTS AND SENIORS IN THE HQ.

• HE TAKES REALLY GOOD CARE OF YOU AND BUY ALL THE FOOD YOU'RE CRAVING.

• MONTHS AFTER, YOUR WATER BROKE AND THAT MADE HIM PANIC. HE DROVE THE CAR IN A FAST SPEED, GOING TO THE NEAREST HOSPITAL.

• THE ROOF OF THE STF HEADQUARTERS WAS NEARLY BLOWN OFF WHEN GAVIN ANNOUNCED THAT HE'LL DO SIMPLE MISSIONS AND PAPER WORKS. HE CAN DO ANY WORK IN THE STF, SINCE HE'S THE COMMANDER NOW.

• TAKING CARE OF THE NEWBORN IS HARD. SLEEPLESS NIGHTS, TAKING TURNS OF FEEDING AND PUTTING THE BABY TO SLEEP. WHEN YOU'RE TOO EXHAUSTED TO GET UP, HE'S THE ONE WHO GETS UP AND HELPS YOU TAKE CARE OF YOUR DAUGHTER.

• AS A FATHER, HE RAISED HER IN A VERY GOOD WAY AND HE IS STRICT, UNLIKE HIS FATHER. HE TEACHES HER SELF-DEFENSE AND SPORTS. HE WATCHES HER CAREFULLY AND COMES TO HER RESCUE WHENEVER SHE'S ABOUT TO TRIP OR FALL (OR PAPA WILL GET SCOLDED BY MAMA)

• HE TRIES HIS BEST AS A FATHER AND LOVES YOUR DAUGHTER VERY MUCH. YOU AND HIM NURTURING HER TALENTS AND INTERESTS.

• THE THREE OF YOU GO ON VACATIONS AND TAKE A STROLL IN THE PARK WHEN YOU'RE NOT BUSY. GAVIN KNOWS WHERE TO GO AND TAKES THE TWO OF YOU TO THE PLACES HE KNOWS.

• TAKES YOU TWO TO CAMP AND GO STARGAZING AT NIGHT.

• HE LETS HIS BROTHER, ELI AND MINOR SPOIL HER.

• SPOILS THE TWO OF YOU. AND HE TAKES GOOD CARE OF TWO OF YOU AND YOUR NEEDS.

AND HE ALSO GETS CLINGY WHEN YOUR DAUGHTER KEEPS CLINGING ON TO YOU THE WHOLE DAY. HE WANTS TO SPEND TIME WITH YOU TOO SO BADLY

———————ʕ·͡ˑ·ཻʔ♥︎ ———————

VICTOR

• STRICT, SUPPORTIVE AND A LOVING KIND OF FATHER

• HE'S VERY HAPPY WHEN YOU TOLD HIM YOU'RE PREGNANT

• HE CLEARED HIS SCHEDULE AND GOES TO THE HOSPITAL YOU ARE IN AND WENT STRAIGHT TO THE OB-GYN, DIRECTLY ASKING QUESTIONS AND ADVICES ABOUT THE DO'S AND DON'TS DURING PREGNANCY AND WHAT ARE YOUR NEEDS DURING EACH STAGE.

• AND AS YOUR BELLY GROWS, HE SPOILS YOU EVEN MORE. PREGNANCY CRAVINGS? HE'LL COOK AND BUY IT FOR YOU. YOU ALSO HAVE THOSE BEST DOCTORS TO LEAD AND ATTEND YOU IN YOUR WHOLE PREGNANCY. HE MAKES MOST MEALS HEALTHY SO THAT YOU AND THE BABY WILL BE HEALTHY.

• HE'S SURPRISED WHEN YOU TOLD HIM THAT YOU'RE CARRYING TWINS BOYS.

• HE WANTS HIS KIDS TO GROW UP HUMBLE AND HARDWORKING LIKE YOU. LIKE GAVIN, HE WANTS TO NURTURE THEIR TALENTS AND INTERESTS AND SUPPORT THEM. HE GIVES THEM THE BEST TUTORS AND TEACHERS. (ALSO SPOIL THEM)

• THE TIME YOU WENT INTO LABOR, HE WAITS OUTSIDE THE DELIVERY ROOM WAITING FOR YOU. HE LOOKS LIKE HE'S WAITING NONCHALANTLY BUT HIS HEART IS RACING.

• AT THE TIME HE WAS CALLED TO COME INSIDE THE ROOM, HE GOES BY YOUR SIDE BEFORE GETTING TO HOLD ONE OF THE TWINS.

• STARTING AT THE TIME YOU GAVE BIRTH , HE STARTS TO LESSEN HIS WORK TO HELP YOU TAKE CARE OF THEM. SLEEPLESS NIGHTS, THEIR CRIES DURING THE DAY AND FEEDING THEM EVERY FEW HOURS MADE YOU EXHAUSTED. VICTOR IS ALWAYS THERE BESIDE YOU, HE HELPS YOU EVERYTIME AND THE FIRST ONE TO GET UP WHEN HEARING ONE OF THEM CRY.

• WHEN YOU'RE ABOUT TO GET UP AND TAKE CARE OF THE TWINS WHEN YOU HEARD HIM SINGING A LULLABY FOR THEM. YOU SNEAKILY RECORD HIM SINGING AND HE DENIES THAT HE DID THE NEXT DAY.

• HE'S DOING HIS BEST AS A FATHER. HE'S STRICT AND SOMEWHAT BECOMES AUTHORATIVE AT TIMES.

• AS THE YEARS GOES BY, THEY GREW UP TALENTED AND HARD WORKING. THEY'RE THE TWO MINI VICTORS, BOTH IN IMAGE AND THE WAY THEY TALK.

• THEIR CRAVINGS OF CARAMEL PUDDING GOT YOUR HUSBAND WORRY OF YOUR CHILDREN'S CAVITIES. SAYS NO AT FIRST AND SAYS YES LATER ON. (SOFT PAPA)

• CAT LOVERS CONFIRMED. ASIDE FROM PUDDING, THEY ASKED HIM IF THEY CAN ADOPT ANOTHER CAT. HE LETS THEM ADOPT ONE MORE.

• THEIR INTERESTS TURNS INTO HOBBIES, PLAYING INSTRUMENTS, DRAWINGS AND PAINTINGS. HE ENJOYS WATCHING YOU AND YOUR SONS PLAY INSTRUMENTS TOGETHER. HE BUYS THEM AN EXPENSIVE AND HIGH QUALITY CELLO AND FLUTES. WANT TO BUY MORE? NO MERCY ON HIS BLACK CARD.

• CLINGY TWINS. THEY ALWAYS FOLLOW BEHIND YOU AND NEVER LEAVE YOUR SIDE ALL THE TIME EVEN WHEN IT'S NIGHT TIME, WHICH MADE VICTOR KIND OF... ANNOYED..

HUBBY ALSO WANTS TO SPEND TIME WITH HIS WIFE

———————ʕ·͡ˑ·ཻʔ♥︎ ———————

LUCIEN

• LOVING, SUPPORTIVE & STRICT

• YOU TOLD HIM THAT YOU'RE PREGNANT AND WORRIED ABOUT YOURSELF AS A MOTHER-TO-BE.

• HE ASSURES YOU THAT YOU'RE GOING TO BE A GREAT MOTHER AND TOLD YOU THAT HE'S VERY HAPPY THAT HE'LL BECOME A FATHER SOON.

• AS A SCIENTIST, HE KNOWS WHAT TO DO IN YOUR EARLY PREGNANCY AND KEEPS YOU VERY HEALTHY. HE ALSO ACCOMPANY YOU EVERYTIME YOU GO TO SEE YOUR OB-GYN, LISTENING TO YOUR DOCTOR'S ADVICE.

• HE'S VERY ATTENTIVE TO YOUR NEEDS AND TAKES VERY GOOD CARE OF YOU. AS YOUR BELLY GROWS BIGGER, YOU CAN FEEL HIS HAND CARESSING THE BUMP A LOT, ESPECIALLY WHEN THE BABY KICKS.

• MONTHS GOES BY AND YOU GAVE BIRTH. HE'S BY YOUR SIDE ALL THE TIME. YOU SMILE HAPPILY AS THE DOCTOR GAVE YOU THE BABY. CRADLING YOUR BEAUTIFUL BABY GIRL, COOING AT HER.

• THE FIRST FEW WEEKS MADE YOU TIRED AND SLEEPY, YOU DIDN'T EXPECT THAT MOTHERHOOD COULD BE THIS HARD. WAKING UP AT NIGHT TO CHANGE AND FEED THE BABY, GETTING A LITTLE REST AND YOU'RE REALLY GREATFUL TO YOUR HUSBAND FOR TAKING CARE OF HER WHEN YOU SLEEP OUT OF EXHAUSTION.

• AS THE BABY GROWS, THE WHOLE HOUSE WAS BABY PROOFED SO THAT THE BABY WILL BE SAFE. BREAKABLE AND SHARP THINGS ARE KEPT AWAY AFTER USING TO MAKE SURE THAT IT WON'T FALL ON THE BABY WHEN IT SHAKES THE TABLE'S LEGS. PROTECTIVE PAPA.

• WHEN YOU'RE AT WORK, LUCIEN TAKES CARE OF HER. CRADLING HIS DAUGHTER, LULLING HER TO SLEEP BY READING OR SINGING HER A LULLABY.

• TIMES GOES BY AND SHE'S READY A YEAR AND A HALF. SHE'S A SPLITTING IMAGE OF YOU, EXCEPT FOR THOSE PAIR OF LAVENDER EYES. AND TWO MONTHS LATER, HE SENDS YOU A VIDEO OF HER ATTEMPTING TO WALK, SURPRISING YOU.

• AS SHE GROWS, HE KEEPS NURTURING HER INTERESTS IN SCIENCE AND FILMING, HER LOVE OF PLANTS AND NATURE. HE TEACHES HER KNOWLEDGEABLE AND EDUCATIONAL THINGS AND DO FAMILY-FRIENDLY EXPERIMENTS AT HOME AND IN HIS LAB.

• HE SPENDS TIME WITH HER A LOT, TEACHING EDUCATIONAL THINGS, ANSWERING HER CURIOSITIES ABOUT THE WORLD AND TAKING HER TO ART EXHIBITIONS.

• HE TAKES HER TO HIS CLASSES WHEN YOU'RE REALLY BUSY AT WORK, LETTING HER WATCH HIM TEACH HIS STUDENTS. BUT ALL OF HIS STUDENTS' ATTENTION IS ON YOUR DAUGHTER.

• HE GIVES HER TIME TO STUDY AND PLAY, WHICH SHE OBEYS. SHE GREW UP SMART, KIND, CARING AND A BIT CLUMSY.

ALWAYS SPENDS TIME WITH YOU WHEN YOUR DAUGHTER IS ASLEEP OR IN SCHOOL. PAPA LUCIEN WANTS SOME ALONE TIME WITH YOU

———————ʕ·͡ˑ·ཻʔ♥︎ ———————

KIRO

• PROTECTIVE, SUPPORTIVE AND CARING

• AFTER BREAKING THE NEWS TO HIM, HE LIFTS YOU UP AND TWIRLS YOU, VERY HAPPY AND EXCITED THAT BOTH OF YOU ARE GOING TO BE PARENTS.

• HE TELLS BOTH SAVIN AND HIS COMPANY THAT HE'S GOING TO BE A PARENT AND ASKING FOR SOME TIME OFF. DAYS AFTER, THE BS COMPANY BROKE THE NEWS THAT KIRO WILL STEP OUT FROM THE SPOTLIGHT FOR SOME TIME DUE TO PERSONAL REASONS.

• HE DOESN'T WANT PAPARAZZIS FOLLOW THE TWO OF AND CAUSE A MISCARRIAGE. SO THE TWO OF YOU STAY LOW AND MOVE TO ANOTHER HOUSE HE BOUGHT.

• KIRO FINDS YOU THE BEST DOCTORS TO HELP YOU DURING YOUR PREGNANCY. WITH THE HELP OF SAVIN AND THE OTHERS. HE GIVES YOU ALL YOUR NEEDS AND BUYS ALL YOUR CRAVINGS, BUT AVOIDS BUYING TOO MUCH JUNK FOOD AND BUYS MORE HEALTHY FOODS.

• AS MONTHS GOES BY, YOU CAN FEEL HIM CARESS YOUR SWOLLEN BELLY EVERY NIGHT WHEN YOU GO TO SLEEP, HIM WANTING TO FEEL THE BABY KICK.

• HE GOES TO THE OB-GYN WITH YOU EVERY MONTH. AND THAT'S WHEN HE KNEW YOU TWO ARE GOING TO HAVE A SON. A WEEK AFTER, YOU GATHERED YOURS AND SOME OF HIS FRIENDS TO DO A GENDER REVEAL OF YOUR BABY IN PRIVATE.

• SINCE HE HAS LOTS OF FREE TIME, HE STARTS TO ORDER SOME BABY PROOFINGS AND TOYS FOR HIS SON, AND HE ALSO BOUGHT SOME DECORATIONS FOR THE ROOM. AND WHEN THE DELIVERY ARRIVES, YOU DECORATE THE BABY'S ROOM WITH HIM, WITH TEDDY BEARS, TOYS, AND THE WHOLE ROOM IS BABY PROOFED.

• TIME GOES BY REALLY FAST AND YOU'RE IN THE CAR SEAT, BREATHING HEAVILY AS SAVIN DRIVES THE CAR TO THE HOSPITAL WITH YOUR HUSBAND HOLDING YOU CLOSE. "WE'RE ALMOST THERE."

• THERE THEY ARE, WAITING OUTSIDE THE DELIVERY ROOM, WORRIED. IT WAS VERY EARLY IN THE MORNING WHEN YOUR WATER BROKE, AND KIRO FREAKED OUT, WAKING UP THE SLEEPING SAVIN IN THE LIVING ROOM.

• KIRO HELPS YOU TAKE CARE OF THE BABY, FEEDING, CHANGING DIAPERS, AND PUTTING HIM TO SLEEP WHEN YOU'RE TOO EXHAUSTED TO GET UP. HE EVEN PROOFED THE WHOLE HOUSE SO THAT THE BABY WILL BE SAFE FROM HARM.

• SOON, THE WHOLE HOUSE IS FULL OF GIGGLES AND LAUGHTER, YOU AND HIM PLAYING WITH THE BABY. YOUR SON IS VERY VOCAL AND CLINGY, LIKE HIS DAD. BABBLING AND GIGGLING.

• HE SINGS HIM LULLABY WHENEVER HE PUTS HIM TO SLEEP. HE SOMETIMES MAKES UP SOME SONGS TO LULL HIS SON TO SLEEP, WHICH MAKES YOU FEEL WARM AND GIGGLE SOMETIMES.

• AS YOUR SON GROWS, KIRO NURTURES HIS SON'S INTEREST IN MUSIC, ARTS AND INSTRUMENTS. WELL, TO BE HONEST, HE'S THE MINI VERSION OF HIM. OCEAN EYES, BLONDE HAIR, FACIAL FEATURES AND EVEN THE WAY IT REACHES OUT HIS HAND WHEN IT SEES FOOD. LIKE FATHER, LIKE SON.

• FOR THE BABY'S PROTECTION, HE TRIMS APPLE BOX'S AND CELLO'S NAILS IN EVERY TWO WEEKS, TO AVOID SCRATCHING THE MINI HIM.

• YOUR SON GREW UP KIND, ARTISTIC AND CARING. HE LOVES MUSIC AND SINGS ALONG WITH HIS DAD EVERYTIME, THE TWO OF THEM GIVING YOU PRIVATE CONCERTS INSIDE THE HOUSE.

WITH YOUR SON'S CLINGINESS, KIRO POUTS ALL THE TIME BECAUSE HE CAN'T SPEND TIME WITH YOU

———————ʕ·͡ˑ·ཻʔ♥︎ ———————

SHAW

• LOVING AND NURTURISTIC

• HE'S SURPRISED WHEN YOU TOLD HIM THAT YOU'RE PREGNANT AT THE DAY OF YOUR ANNIVERSARY. THE NEWS MADE HIM NERVOUS AND EXCITED, HE PULLS YOU CLOSE AND HUGS YOU.

• LIKE THE OTHER BOYS, HE TAKES YOU TO THE BEST OB-GYNS AND GIVES WHAT YOU WANT. HE ALWAYS WALKS CLOSE TO YOU TO AVOID OTHER PEOPLE FROM BUMPING INTO YOU.

• AS WEEKS PASS BY, HE'S IN A LOSS OF WORDS IN YOUR SUDDEN MOOD SWINGS, HAPPY AT FIRST THEN CRIES THE NEXT MOMENTS. HE COMFORTS YOU AND ASKS YOUR DOCTOR ABOUT YOUR FREQUENT MOOD SWINGS.

• SKIPS HIS WORK AND BAND PRACTICES TO ACCOMPANY YOU AND TO TAKE GOOD CARE OF YOU. AVOIDS YOU FROM DRINKING MANY COKE AND PEPSI.

• WHEN HE KNEW THAT YOU TWO ARE GOING TO HAVE A DAUGHTER, HIS FATHER INSTINCTS CLICKED IN. HE WANTS TO PROTECT AND SPOIL HER. (AND ALSO WISHED THAT YOUR DAUGHTER IS GOING TO BE LIKE YOU).

• HE'S REALLY OPPOSED TO THE IDEA OF YOU BUYING GROCERIES ALONE, ESPECIALLY WHEN THE STORE IS CROWDED. HE DOESN'T LEAVE YOUR SIDE.

• MONTHS PASS BY VERY FAST AND YOU'RE IN THE HOSPITAL, WITH ANNA. WHEN HE REACHES THE ROOM WHERE YOU'RE STAYING IN, HE WAS GREETED BY AND YOUR NEW BORN DAUGHTER. HE GOES TO YOUR SIDE AND CRADLES HIS DAUGHTER.

• HE APOLOGIZES THAT HE'S NOT BY YOUR SIDE WHEN YOUR WATER BROKE AND YOU ASSURE HIM THAT IT'S ALRIGHT AND IT'S NOT HIS FAULT. WORK IS WORK.

• THE FIRST FEW WEEKS MADE YOU EXHAUSTED, WAKING UP SEVERAL TIMES AT NIGHT, FEEDING, CHANGING THE BABY'S DIAPER AND PUTTING HER TO SLEEP AGAIN. SOMETIMES YOU FEEL SHAW GET UP AND TAKE CARE OF HER, LETTING YOU REST.

• THERE ARE TIMES THAT YOU SEE THE SLEEPING SHAW CRADLING YOU SLEEPING DAUGHTER. YOU CAN'T HELP BUT TO TAKE A PICTURE OF THEM. HE'S A GOOD FATHER.

• AS YOUR DAUGHTER GROWS UP, SHE LOOKS LIKE SHAW. AMBER EYES, HER NOSE AND HER PALE LAVENDER HAIR. HIS GENES ARE STRONG. BUT YOUR DAUGHTER MANAGE TO INHERIT YOUR CLUMSINESS.

• WHEN SHE FINALLY KNEW HOW TO WALK, YOUR HUSBAND BABY PROOFED THE WHOLE HOUSE, NOT LEAVING ANY CORNER UNPROOFED. BREAKABLE AND HEAVY THINGS ARE PLACED AWAY BY HIM FOR THE BABY'S SAFETY.

• AT THE AGE OF 5, HE STARTS TO TAKE HER TO THE MUSEUM AND MUSIC. THANKS TO THIS, YOUR DAUGHTER BECAME MORE INTERESTED IN BOTH MUSIC AND HISTORY.

• HE NURTURES HER ALL HER INTERESTS AND TALENT IN PLAYING INSTRUMENT. HE STRICT AND BECOMES SOFT LATER, HE CAN'T SAY NO TO HIS DAUGHTER.

• HE GETS SCOLDED BY YOU WHEN YOU CAUGHT HIM TEACHING HER TO RIDE A SKATEBOARD AND SPRAY PAINT IS BANNED WHEN THE WALLS OF YOUR HOUSE IS FULL OF COLORFUL PAINTING.

YOU'RE KIND OF JEALOUS THAT YOUR DAUGHTER IS MORE CLOSER TO HIM THAN YOU

———————ʕ·͡ˑ·ཻʔ♥︎ ———————

NEXT: MINI HIM

⇆ ◁ ❚❚ ▷ ↻

———————ʕ·͡ˑ·ཻʔ♥︎ ———————

PLAYLIST II / MASTERLIST

#scheduled post #mlqc #mlqc gavin #mlqc victor #mlqc kiro #mlqc lucien #mr love queen's choice #mr love #mldd #mr love victor #mr love gavin #mlqc shaw #mr love shaw #mr love kiro #mr love lucien

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clairenatural · 3 years

Text

destiel, 1.9k, post-series human!cas. this isn’t fully angst but it is me addressing castiel’s trauma since the writers never will. hurt/comfort-esque. cw for the stuff he went through at the beginning of s9. also: stargazing.

Castiel’s grace burns up when they pull him out of the Empty, but he doesn’t care—he doesn’t even notice, really, not when Dean is clinging to him, and kissing him like he needs him to breathe, and filling the gap his grace left with a love that feels even more holy.

It hits him halfway back to the bunker, when he’s riding shotgun and Sam is asleep in the backset and a passing streetlight bathes Dean’s freckles in yellow-gold. He’s been in love with Dean Winchester as a human before, and it was overwhelming, all mixed up in guilt and panic and a bone-deep betrayal he’s been trying to forget. But this time—this time is different, right? This time…it’s okay. It has to be. He’s not quite sure what he’s allowed, just yet, but he takes the risk anyway and reaches out for Dean across the bench seat. Dean meets him half way, catching his hand with his own, and it calms Castiel’s newly-human heart.

He wakes up the next morning, in Dean’s bed, and he’s forgotten how nice sleep is. Real, human sleep, on an actual mattress—memory foam, he remembers Dean proclaiming, excited. It’ll remember you now, too. He tries not to remember the concrete floor of the gas station, and his cold, thin sleeping bag, because now—now, he’s warm. He reaches out for Dean, who is still asleep but moves on instinct, lifting an arm so Castiel can curl up against him. He lets his bones sink into the warmth of Dean, the comfort of the mattress. He tries to remind himself he’ll never sleep on a storage room floor again.

He stays in bed even longer than Dean, which Dean calls impressive when he returns to the bedroom with coffee. Castiel plays it off as being exhausted, which is true, but he’s also trying to commit the feeling of the mattress to memory.

When he drains his coffee and finally decides to go brush his teeth, he stares for a long time at the toothpaste tube. Long enough that Dean comes looking. He leans against the bathroom door with a smile, raising an eyebrow at the sight. “It’s not gonna bite you,” he starts, and pushes off the doorframe to walk closer. “You have done this before, right? You know—last time?”

Castiel blinks and then nods. It’s just toothpaste. “You know, the first time I did this, I—” he pauses to smile, attempting levity. “I squeezed the tube directly into my mouth,” he chuckles then, trying to joke at his helplessness, and he thinks Dean will too—and he does smile, eventually, but not before a look halfway between guilt and grief crosses his face. Castiel isn’t meant to catch it, but he does—he sees all of Dean. He knows every expression better than he knows his own.

Dean doesn’t respond to his toothpaste comment, but he does wrap his arms around Castiel’s middle from behind, more securely than the situation demands, and he hooks his chin over Castiel’s shoulder with a hum. Castiel stares at the whole picture in the mirror, himself and Dean and his toothbrush, and he can’t help but smile when Dean brings a hand up to brush his thumb across his cheek. “You’re already gettin’ peach fuzz,” he murmurs. “Remind me to teach you to shave sometime.”

The smile falls as something thick settles in the pit of Castiel’s stomach. He remembers stumbling his way through a razor. “Oh. I, um. I taught myself.” The last time is unsaid.

“Oh.” Dean’s arms loosen around his waist, and the stricken look is back. “That’s—awesome.” He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

Castiel turns his head to try and look at him, but Dean is already stepping away. “I’ll let you get to it,” he mumbles, and claps Castiel on the shoulder as he leaves the bathroom.

He watches Dean leave, then stares at the empty doorway for a few long seconds before turning back to his toothbrush. His hands are shaking as he squeezes out the toothpaste.

When he wanders into the kitchen a few minutes later Dean is waiting for him, armed with more coffee and a plate of scrambled eggs and bacon, and he grabs Castiel by the shoulder and guides him into a seat at the table before sliding in across from him. He’s smiling—he’s eager—and it’s such a tone shift that Castiel briefly wonders if a witch snuck into the bunker while he was brushing his teeth.

But he knows this. He’s seen it before, with Sam—how Dean will set a meal down in front of him in the library and won’t leave until he takes a bite, waiting for approval. It’s love.

“Dean, you didn’t have to—”

“Yeah, I did,” he cuts him off in a tone that’s not unkind, but is final. “Wanna take care of you,” he shrugs and covers up the intimacy of that statement by reaching over to steal a slice of bacon, and Castiel hears the I love you buried under all the layers, so he smiles and eats. Predictably, it’s delicious.

“This is much better than molecules,” he commends, because he knows Dean’s waiting for it, and Dean grins and it’s beautiful and all the weirdness of the morning is forgotten.

They talk, and they eat, and they laugh, but when Dean clears the dishes he sits back at the table with a much more serious expression. “Alright, come on. What do you want to know?”

Castiel raises his eyebrows. “About…?”

“Being human.”

Oh.

He doesn’t know how to respond to that. He’s already stumbled through all the basic human functions, albeit clumsily, and he’s trying to figure out a way to explain to Dean that being homeless gives you a painful crash course on how to survive without putting that sad expression back on his face when he realizes Dean is still talking.

“Listen, Cas. I know I fucked up last time, alright? Big time. I should’ve been there to teach you to brush your teeth, and shave, and—and tie your freakin’ shoelaces, and I can’t take that back now, okay? But maybe I can—I don’t know. Do it better, this time. I know you already got most of it figured out, but I could—”

“Dean, it’s alright.” He reaches out to place his hand over one of Dean’s, which he’s been fidgeting on the table. “I forgive you.” Dean looks up, then, and they make eye contact, and Castiel does forgive him. Of course he does. There was never another option.

Dean breaks the eye contact but he moves his other hand on top of Castiel’s and squeezes. “Yeah, well. Doesn’t mean it’s okay,” he grumbles, and Castiel loves him for that.

“You can teach me to cook,” He offers, after a moment, and Dean looks up at him with a genuine smile. “I never got much further than PB&J.”

“Hell yeah,” Dean is already standing. “Come on, let’s go.”

Castiel blinks up at him. “Go?”

“To the store,” Dean rolls his eyes, as if this was obvious. “I ain’t gonna teach you to cook with whatever we have lying around.”

He’s already off before Castiel can clarify he just wants to start with grilled cheese. Dean buys the fanciest cheddar in the store anyway.

Castiel manages to burn it on both sides.

“I’m sorry,” he stares down at the mess, mournfully, and manages to look pitiful enough that Dean picks up the blackened sandwich to take a bite anyway. He grimaces when Dean chokes on it, but he’s trying so hard to not visibly react that it makes Castiel’s heart warm, and by the time Dean finally gets the lump washed down with beer, he’s staring at him with a wry smile.

“I've fed Sam worse,” is his only comment, and Castiel can’t help but huff out a laugh, and then Dean is grinning back, setting the plate down, and reaching out to pull him close. “Tomorrow we’ll tackle spaghetti.”

Castiel scoffs. “Do you enjoy burnt tomato sauce?”

“Sure do.” Dean tilts his head down, and Castiel meets him in the middle. He tastes like burnt toast, but Castiel smiles against his lips and grins into the space between them when they separate to lean their foreheads together. “What’s next, Cas?”

“Teach me how to drive.”

Dean pulls back farther, surprised. “You can drive.”

“Not well.”

Dean snorts, then sighs. “Yeah, sure. Tomorrow though, alright? It’s getting dark.”

Castiel considers him for a moment, then nods. “Then drive me somewhere. I want to see the stars like this. Human.”

Dean hums and presses a kiss to his forehead. “That we can do.”

He misses the contact as soon as Dean steps back, but then Dean takes his hand and leads him into the garage, only letting go long enough to climb into the car. They drive through the sunset until the stars are peeking out, and Dean pulls onto the shoulder by a field far enough outside town to avoid all light pollution. He climbs onto the hood and Castiel follows, sitting close enough that their shoulders brush.

Castiel can feel Dean staring at him but doesn’t look back, not yet—he’s staring straight up, at the stars. He misses them, aches for them like he aches for his wings, but he also feels warm in their presence. The stars are solid. They are unyielding. They are trustworthy.

“How you feeling, Cas?” Dean asks after a moment, quietly, not loud enough to disturb the silence. Castiel hums before responding.

“Small.” He feels Dean shift, leaning into his shoulder.

“Small?” He questions, and he can hear that Dean’s worried. He shouldn’t be.

“Small,” Castiel confirms, tearing his gaze from the night sky to smile warmly back at Dean. “Back then—” last time “—it was terrifying, being this small. I thought I was going to drown. The stars were out of reach. I longed for them.”

“And now?” Dean has shifted, angling himself so he’s facing Castiel.

“The stars are out of reach, but they’re still there. And you are also still here,” this time, “and you are not out of reach.” Anymore. Ever again. He reaches out for Dean’s face, stroking his thumb along his cheekbone. “I’m small. But we’re small together. And that makes it alright.”

Dean stares at him like he does sometimes, like if he blinks Castiel might disappear, and then he leans forward and kisses him like that first time, like if he stops he’ll forget how to breathe. He pushes Castiel down onto the hood of the car and doesn’t break for air until the metal groans under the pressure. When he backs off, then, it’s still not far—not out of reach.

“What’s next, Cas?” he asks, and Castiel knows what he’s asking. And that’s the thing—the biggest thing—he wants to forget about last time.

He looks up at Dean, who looks like he’s holding his breath. He thinks maybe he can still let Dean teach him that, too, if he wants him to. He thinks he does want him to.

“Let’s go home,” he replies, finally, and Dean breaks into a grin before the words are fully out of his mouth, “and you can show me.”

#destiel fic #deancas fic #human!cas #destiel #deancas #my words #9x03 #i still haven't forgiven dean for how he treated cas at the beginning of s9 #so im gonna write him making up for it to make myself feel better #someday I will once again post smth not at 2am #over 1k words

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beauty-of-depravation · 3 years

Text

Under My Roof

A/N : this was supposed to come out for Valentine's day. And then life happend and I'm posting it a month later 😅 this is pure filth, it's only smut, PwP. This all started with a message exchange with the incredibly funny @badassbuchanan 😂 after sending her the second gif 😂

Word count : 8K

Warnings : dégradation and knife play so discrete you won't see it, exhibitionnisme...etc. +18 !!! Maybe a bit of angst I'm not even sure, and a cheesy poorly written ending. Enjoy !💘

Plot : your are Bucky's maid.

***

You were lost in your thoughts, while walking back to Bucky Barnes's home. Your eyes wondering over the couples that walked past you.

Valentine's day. Again. You hated this day. This painful reminder of your loneliness. The reminder that you weren't with the man of your dreams. Well yes, indeed you were painfully close to the man of your dreams.

You change his sheets. Prepare his meals. Go grocery shopping for him. Clean his house. Take care of him when he was sick.

But you weren't with him. You were just the maid.

You were the one he sent to go buy flowers and a box of chocolate. A bouquet and sweets he would give to another woman tonight. While you would fall asleep, alone, in a house that was not yours. After completing tasks that were of no interest to you.

Of course you were more than well paid for your services, but ...you had no free time. You worked six days a week and on your only free day you were too exhausted to go out, so you stayed in your room all day sleeping or reading, which didn't allow you to build a single serious relationship in three years of this job. And ... if you were being totally honest...also the fact that you had the biggest crush on your boss.

And every Valentine's Day you'd remember that you.had.nothing. No boyfriend. No home for yourself. Every Valentine's Day you remember that you didn't build anything. You spend your life ordering the life of a man who does not see you. Around you your friends have homes of their own, husbands, children, a future. And you ...

Arggg! Getting into the house, you angrily put down the bouquet of flowers and the box of chocolate that Bucky asked you to buy for his evening date on the kitchen table. It was already about 5pm, normally you'd start on dinner but he told you not to cook tonight, and if you wanted you could have something delivered for yourself. Fuck him. Fuck Bucky Barnes.

You locked yourself in your room. And soon after, you hear him leave the house.

You try to read, but you can't concentrate. You go on tiktok and instagram, Tumblr and finally you end up on pornhub. Your eyes move from video to video and when you find something that appeals to you, your hand quickly slides straight inside your panties, Without giving the rest of your body any attention.

Your fingers find your clitoris, and begin to massage slowly, but as soon as the pleasure begin to rise, a pair of blue eyes appear in your memory, and your movements suddenly stop. No ! You don't want to think about him now!

You shake your head, breathe out, and try to refocus on the video. But as soon as your hand starts moving, it's his face that pops into your head, his voice, his smile, his body ... NO! It is pathetic. You can not let yourself think about your boss, who by the way must absolutely not be thinking about you at the moment, while masturbating on Valentine's Day. It's ... really pathetic. Suddenly angry at yourself, at him, and at the work, you close your porn and go to playstore.

You download the first three dating apps you find and sign up for the three. No way your spending Valentine's Day eating fast food on the sofa while thinking of your boss. Masturcraying is not for you, not today, not ever.

You choose your prettiest photo and select it as a profile picture. You select: "Partners near you". And just like that, the profiles appear on your screen, and you just have to pick and choose.

Few hours and some weirdos later, you are chatting with a nice guy, attractive enough, funny and chatty.

From Theo to Y/N « you want to go out ?»

From Y/N to Theo «yes ! Let me ask my boss first»

And then it occurred to you. He didn't even ask you if you had plans for tonight. He didn't even think about giving you your night.

Annoyed, you quickly texted

From Y/N to Mr.Barnes « Sir, i have plans, can i have my night?» you wait and wait...but the answer comes only half an hour later.

From Mr.Barnes to Y/N «No, you should have asked yesterday. I'm expecting a package around eight, please don't forget to pick it up»

From Y/N to Mr.Barnes «Please Sir, i never asked you for a day off. I'm feeling a little bit down. I really think going out would help, i could ask for mr's Happkins to reception the package, I'll get it first thing back»

From Mr.Barnes to Y/N «No. You'll have you little date in your free day. I'm busy i don't have time to text»

Fuck.him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck. Him. Fuck him.

From Y/N to Mr Barnes «FUCK YOU.»

Delete.

From Y/N to Theo « My boss isn't here, wanna join?»

4 hours later.

You are drunk. Drunk on the best alcohol you ever had. Drunk on an alcohol you'd never be able to afford. Where did you get it from ? Bucky's cabinet.

He won't be here until tomorrow, you have all the time.

You turn your head to the cute guy next to you, curly blond hair, slim and tall and a shiny smile. Perfect.

You lean in to kiss him. You don't even remember he's name. You share the taste of the delicious alcohol on your tongues, you laugh between kisses, joke between messy body grabbing, and play cat and mouse around the table. Your tops are off, your lips swollen. «Eat me out» you state, no second thought. «That's bold» he says, opening wide eyes but smiling. «I'm sick of being good...» «It's okey, i like bold»

You sit down on the couch, pull your skirt up, take off your panties, and lay back.

The boy doesn't wait to get on his knees between your legs, and he gets right to work. His tongue teasing your entrance, and his lips kissing your clit playfully.

Fuck Bucky. This is a nice boy. Fuck,Why are you thinking about Bucky ? And why is your heart tightening ? Fuck. Tonight you deserve better. This doesn't feel like enough. Not enough to fuck your boss out of your mind «Let's go to one of the rooms» you say purposefully.

He looks at you, eyes sparkly «Whatever the lady asks for» the blond smiles at you, getting up, and ...not helping you get up. It's alright, you're not looking for romance any way.

You chose the nicest room. The biggest one, after Bucky's. As soon as you get in, the boys hand are on your waist, pulling you back against him. His lips on your neck making you giggle. He moves them to you breast, your only wearing your bra. «Can you help me take it off ? I have trouble with this things, bras hate me !» you laugh and help him take off the underwear as he unzipped his jeans, letting them fall to the ground.

You feel yourself getting excited, this is so new to you ! Having a stranger in your big scary boss's house, and letting him fuck you. That's... liberating! And if you thought about feeling guilty, the way he replied to your message came to your mind and you'd just think “fuck him”

You jump on the bed, and invite your partner to join you, he does and as soon as he is next to you he attaches his mouth to one of your nipples, and his hand go directly to your pussy, teasing your entrance once again, you slid your hand towards his boxers, feeling his cock getting harder between your fingers as you pump up and down his lengh. You kiss slowly while teasing one another, moaning in each other's mouth.

But then, the blue eyes again. The metalic blue eyes of you boss appear in you mind. The beautiful mesmerizing blue eyes, that beautiful face, those lips, the smirk, the jaw the body, you wonder if his cock is thicker then ...OH DEAR GOD. THAT IS ENOUGH.

«Hey.» you awkwardly start. «Yeah ?»

«Wanna...get inside ?» (NDA : yes kids, sexe with a stranger is more awkward then sexy)

«Sure ! That's not an offer you say no to !» He stumble in the covers getting up, reach for his jeans and grabs a condom in the back pocket. He opens them and it takes few seconds of fumbling and shaky hands to get the condom in place, while you're lying there looking at him.

You both laugh awkwardly, as he gets on top of you, looks for the entrance few seconds, and start sliding inside. It feels nice. See ! you don't need fucking rude and sexy Mr.Barnes.

«Harder. Go harder.» he start thrusting faster, and you close your eyes. Concentrating on the feeling and the friction. but soon enough, the blue eyes try to make a new appearance, and you open back your eyes, to escape his.

He has nice hair. Nice blond locks. He looks cute, a slow building pleasure starts raising in your belly. Imagine his beared on your inner thighs, and his tongue battling your into submission, and ...his cock stretching your walls, and you orgasm is getting closer and closer, you push your hand over your mouth to keep your moans down, he doesn't go deep but he goes fast enough for you to feel ready to cum, on top of that you've been watching a lot of porn and dirty tumblr to get you there rapidly. and just as you pussy clenchs, he stops everything. Fuck Fuck Fuck, you try to buck your hips but nothing will save you, You just had a ruined orgasm !

«what, i, i !!! » « think someone is coming in.» he whispers.

You stop breathing as you hear a key turning in the lock.

The front door.

Fuck.

Only two people have this key, you ...and Barnes. Fuck. He is back.

Fuck Fuck Fuck. «My boss is back, fuck, hide !»

You put on your shirt no bra, your skirt no panties, you close the door of the room where you leave the boy, and run out at full speed. A second after you are in the living room, collecting his shirt on the couch, trying to hide the mess, you just have the time to push the empty alcohol bottle under the couch before Mr.Barnes appears.

«What are you doing ?» He says, suspicious, looking at you messy appearance. «Nothing, just cleaning.»

«at 11 pm ?» he raises a suspicious eyebrow. «I...icouldn't sleep.»

Your underwear. Shit. It's right on the edge of the couch. “Please don't notice, please don't notice, please don't notice” «well, since you are awake, could you draw me a bath ? I'm exhausted.» «Yes, sir.»

You go out as quick as possible, and passing by the end of the couch, you try to discreetly grab the underwear, you roll it in your fist, and run up the stairs. Once in the bathroom, you try to rearrange your hair, and start preparing the bath in a hurry, terrified at the thought that your boss could go to the friend's room you used (which he never does) and find your little...date.

While the water start to warm up, you hear the bathroom door open, and close in your back. And Mr Barnes just sits there, in your back, watching you, watching your every movement. Your fist is in front of you, tightly clenched on the underwear. His look is sharp, you feel it burning you skin, you are so aware of your own appearance. You are usually so put together. It must be the fist time in three years of working for him that he sees you in such a state.

What could he possibly be thinking. He is looking at you in such a way that your hands shake.

Maybe ...if he asks questions...you could tell him you were masturbating when he came in ? Sure it would be a shame, but ... It would be believable, and he would be to embarassed to look any further. You shake you head, trying to steady your hands, while adding salts in the water but then ... «You can go, I'll do that myself» he comes up right behind you, really really close.

He doesn't need to repeat himself, you furtively slip under his shoulder before running away

When you hear the bathroom door close again, you run towards the guest room and try to open the door quietly. But...it's locked. You try and try again and it's locked. «Hey it's me» you whisper. «Can I go now ?» Whispers the boy, from the other side. «Yeah, Open the door, why did you lock it ?»

«I didn't, i heard it get locked, i thought it was you.»

You brain stops working. Why would Barnes ever lock a guest room door ?

Deep inside you know. There is no other explanation. Your heart stops beating. But you head is desperately looking for any reason he would do that. There is none. There is only one : he knows. He know and you just lost your job. You feel tears gather in your eyes. God why did you have to be so stupid !? Sure, now is the time to regret. Fuck.

«I'll come back to open, can you just ...give me some time ?»

«What ? Are you fucking kidding me ?!»

You don't answer, and try opening the drawer where you know your boss puts a double of keys, but it's locked. You go to your room, think about gathering your personal effects, but then...your hands are shaking, and a small part of you still think "maybe he doesn't know, maybe there is an explanation"

You go back to the living room and start walking back and forth like a trapped animal. It lasts about twenty minutes. Until you hear it. You hear you name. From the bath room.

A commanding voice. Telling you to come here.

You hesitate a second.

But you have no choice.

You slowly start climbing the stairs.

Every step leading you to the bathroom is heavier then the one before.

Your heart is trapped in your throat.

You put your hand on the door lock. And try to catch you breathe. But suddenly the door opens and you are dragged inside by a firm hand around your wrist, before bumping into a hard chest. «Hey, there...» He whispers, in a dangerously calm voice.

You freeze.

He is naked, wrapped in only a tiny towel around his waist, holding you firmly against him.

You can feel his wet skin through your clothes. You don't now what to do, or what to say, but he doesn't seem to think the same. «Well behaved sluts answer when they are talked to.» He waits for you to speak up, but as you say nothing he continues «You are more eloquent with a dick in your pussy, aren't you ?» « no i...»

You try to say something, but you don't know what, you try to push him off but he is to strong. «No what? You though i wouldn't notice ? I knew the second i got in. You dumb little whore, you can see the window of the friend room from the outside. And your underwear on the couch ? Saw that to.» «I'm sorry, I was...»

«What ? What are you possibly going to say that could justify your behavior ?» his voice is dry, and he's body pushes itself further against you, forcing you to the wall. «I'm so sorry sir, don't fire me please. I don't know where my mind was, i..» «Fire you ? My god. That would be going easy on you. I know where your mind was, babygirl. In your horny little cunt.»

You whimper. Look down, only to see his muscular thighs, regretting, you close your eyes praying for all of this to be a bad dream.

«But I'm going to take care of that. You want to be fucked this bad ? Fine.»

You tilt your head up at him, surprised. Only to meet a black gaze.

« you are .. you are going to» « Fuck you ? Yes. Until you little pussy is sore, I'm going to fuck you more than what you can take, bully this little slut pussy, you understand ? Or do you prefer to get fired ?» «o...no.» «No what ? If you agree say "fuck me please sir"» «Please...» You stutter.

«That's not what I fucking asked!» He barks as his hand tightly grips you jaw, making you look at him. «Say it, loud and clear.» «Please, ...fuck me sir.»

«Ohh look at you, so well behaved. Your nipples are hard to..is that the water or the greediness, little slut ?» suddenly his hand leaves your jaw and grab at your neck, while his other hand cruely twist and pull on your nipple through your shirt, making you yelp, he let go of you hurt nipple, and his fingers grab something besides you on the edge of the bathtub. «See that in my hand? I'm going to push the blade of my razor on your delicate throat, now, you wouldn't want to hurt yourself by moving to much, right ? You better not fucking move. The things I'm going to do to you. The things I've wanted to do to you, Fuck» he grunts, «Take off your skirt»

You are forced to keep your chin high, because of the threatening blade, looking at him directly in the eyes, yours, teary, and his, dark with desire and anger. You push your skirt down, only to remember you are not wearing any underwear. You blush harder (even redder that what you already are) and you see his lips rise into a devilish smile.

«Is your pussy wet ? Did he finish fucking you ?» You don't answer.

«If you decide to act like that, I'm going to check by myself» he sighed. «Open you legs.»

While one of his hand keeps the blade against your skin, the fear of moving cutting your air, the other one reach down, and harshly forces your tights open, quickly moving up to your wet follds.

And, with no warnings, a slaps lands on your sensitive pussy, making you cry out.

Another harsh slap falls right on your clit and you try grabbing at his wrists and closing your thighs, but the blade pushed harder against your throat, and the hand that administrated the slaps push on your belly, forcing you to stay still. «Oh now see, you know how to use your voice. Did i say you could move? Stay the fuck still, whore.»

«Sir, it...it hurts.» «Oh really?»He says in a mocking voice, «good, it should hurt, is your little pussy sore from getting fucked under my roof ?»

Another slap lands, making a new cry escape your mouth. But you know better then to move, the blade is slowly moving up and down your skin, flattering it. The cold metal awaken every nerve of your body, and you feel... terribly aroused. You never felt more alive.

«It's nothing compared to when I'm done with you. I'm going to fuck the sanity out of you, little girl.»

You didn't plan on doing that, it's totally involuntary, maybe it's the vision of him, towering over you, only in his towel, hair pushed pack, his jaw tight, his eyes filled with hunger, his skin dumb, little drops of water rolling down his muscle, maybe it's the rush of adrenaline, maybe it's the mixed sensations from the blade, maybe ...maybe it's the months of fantasizing about him, of having this huge crush on the man, but you moan «Please, sir» as an answer.

He seems a little surprised, but soon a smirk ornate his lips and his eyes have a light of amusement and excitement.

«You want that ? You want me to fuck you ? How cute. That's not even a punishment for a greedy slut. Now...»

You're throat is set free, and you hear the blade hit the floor, as both his hands land on your waist, and his mouth join your neck, leaving met kisses and gentle bites, from your collar bone to your ear, « I bet you fantasized about that. About me fucking you, i mean, i knew you had a crush on me, but i thought of you as an innocent sweet little girl. Turns out...»

He kisses along your jaw, and when you think he is finally going to kiss your lips, he pull away.

«open you mouth.»

He scoffs at the speed you obey.

«Tongue out.»

You hesitantly pull out you tongue.

Your eyes widen as he spit in you mouth. And just as you are thinking about what you should do, spit it out ? Swallow ? Just ...keep it ? He makes the decision easier. He pinches your tongue between his thumb and index finger and cruely pull on it.

«Look at you, so desperate. Say "i belong to you"»

You try to close your mouth, but a slap lands on you cheek.

«No, no. Say it like that.»

The worst part is not you desperately trying to say the words with your tongue trapped between his fingers, it's not the obvious amusement on his face, not the humiliation he is putting you through, it's ...the fact that your pussy is getting wetter by the second, and you feel the blood flowing down to your clit. It aches, you want him to fuck you.

«Good girl. Now swallow.» He orders.

And you do, but this time you don't look away, your eyes firmly locked to his.

«I'm so fucking hard. You make me so fucking hard.» He grunts, pushing his hips on yours. Thighs on thighs, chest on chest, his dick on your hip bone.

If anything, he is, indeed thicker, and longer.

A little moan escapes your throat, as you move your hips with his, grinding against his cock, still hidden under the towel. Before you can think, your hand is reaching down, looking to feel him. He doesn't try to stop you, letting your fingers grip him, Making the towel fall on the ground. You feel him pulsing in your hand. He says and does nothing, fixating his eyes attentively on you. You start moving your hand up and down his shaft. You are fascinated, you explore every sensation, the one of your fingers wrapped around his veiny cock, you grip tighter, and wipe the precum leaking from his deep pink tip with your thumb. When you finally look up to see his reaction, his head is thrown back, his adam's apple bobbing under the thin skin of this exposed throat, you follow the edges of the his square jaw, the tensed large shoulders. His eyes are closed, and his breathing is unsteady.

And ...the fact that you do that to him, the fact that this is all you, makes your head spin.

You lower your gaze again, traveling over his chest, eye-kissing the perfectlytanned skin and the v of his hips, and his cock between your fingers. You admire how your hand is barely closing around it, and the precum still escaping the tip, how you can feel the blood pulsing in the prominent veins, how you ...are craving to close your lips around it. That's...the most beautiful cock you've ever seen, attached to the most beautiful man you've ever seen, and ...you want it all.

But just as you are thinking of dropping to your knees, his voice raises again. «You had your fun. don't fucking think you are in control.»

You look back up, and his hands tighten there grip at the small of your back, as he looks down at you. «Now, doll, I'll fuck your throat another time. Turn around.»

And, without waiting for you to oblige, he spins you around, and suddenly you find yourself facing the full body mirror.

His chin resting on the top of your head, his eyes meeting yours in the reflection, your eyes travel your appearance, flushed cheeks, slightly parted lips, hard nipples, chest raising and falling rapidly, his forearm firmly keeping you against him. «You are so ready for me to fuck you, sir's little slut.»

His hand slides under your shirt, your breast heavy in his palm, his calloused fingers pulling at your nipple, his mouth kissing right behind your ear, whispering.

«I'm saying that, but, you know, I've wanted to fuck you since the day you put a foot in this house.» Suprised, Your your raise your own reflection, meeting his eyes in the mirror.

«Don't look at me like that. The maid fantasy isn't a myth. Seeing you every day in this uniform, wanting nothing more than to fuck you on every flat space of this fucking house.»

You can bearly breath and you close your eyes, looking away.

Immediately you feel the sting of your hair being harshly pulled back, yanking your head up. «Eyes on me, on you, on us, you don't get to look away, whore.»

You shyly open your eyes, looking back at the reflection, but, not satisfied yet, he whispers, «say "yes sir"»

To ashamed and mesmerized by the picture before you, you don't immediately oblige, and that costs you a hard spank to your ass. «Say "yes sir"!» He repeats with a stern voice, that you know he won't tolerate you making him ask another time.

Another harsh slap lands on your ass and you yelp, «YES SIR.»

«Good girl, You know what, from now on, we are playing a little game, everytime I say something, ask a question, you reply with "yes sir", i don't fucking care if you like what I'm saying, i own you, and you will agree to whatever i say, do you understood?» «Yes sir.»

«such a good little slut, aren't you ?»

«yes sir.»

«You're not that dumb after all. Arms up, i want to see all if you.»

You immediately obey, and with that, you are completely naked, all available for him. «How beautiful, such a beautiful woman, with the soul of a whore, isn't that a pity ? I'm going to ruin it. Give me my pants.» «What ?» «What do you mean what ? You don't need to understand, i gave you a fucking order. I don't think you understand quite yet what is happening to you, but don't worry by the end of the night, you'll be a good girl again. The pants, slut»

You quickly reach to the floor and give him his pants, and it's with horrified eyes that you see him take the belt of the hooks. «Don't look at me like that, I'm not planning on spanking you with it tonight. But, you seem to forget who owns you, so..»

He reaches around your neck a put the belt around it, start to hook it «Until i buy you a proper leash, i'm going to put that around your throat, don't you think it's an amazing idea, doll ?» «Yes sir.»

«Good. Do you want a leash around that pretty neck ?» «Yes sir.»

«Now, i could think you are lying just to obey my orders, but you see, i think your telling the truth. Your eyes are filled with lust, and you pussy ...»

His fingers reached down, his thumb between your lips, before pushing two fingers all the way inside. «Your pussy is overflowing with your juices. It's twitching and sucking my fingers in.»

With no warning, 4 consicutive harsh slaps land on your ass cheek, making your cry outs and arch your back. «Did i give you permission to grind on my fingers ? No i don't think so, doll. You don't get preparation before my cock, you've already had that.»

You can't put your head around what is he talking about and you don't have time to think before feeling the tip of his cock at your entrance, «Are you ready ?» «yes sir.» «good girl.»

You expected him to slam himself inside, but...he, oh so slowly sink inside you, making you feel how every fucking inch of his cock is stretching you.

His hand reaches to your face and two is his fingers push themselves past your lips, pushing your tongue down, and making sure you are looking in the mirror. «You look so good like that.»

And with every inch of his cock that stretches your walls, the belt hugs your neck tighter, until he bottoms out, and you can bearly breath.

«Your so fucking tight doll, I'm surprised for such a worthless..» «STOP IT.» You scream

he immediately stills, and totally let go of the belt, letting your breathe deeply. You feel a sob in you're throat, and cover your mouth with your hand and close your eyes to keep the tears in.

«Oh my god, doll, did't hurt you ? I'm sorry, so sorry, come here, do you need to sit, do you»

«Stop calling me a fucking whore ! I've been in love with you for three years, i couldn't go see anywhere else because I think about you all the time, and tried to get over it, but i don't even have enough free time to meet someone ! I'm always working for you, and when I'm not, I'm thinking about you ! Stop stop stop stop...»

You keep repeating the words until you feel his arms wrap tightly around you, pulling you to his chest and hugging you. You're not crying, you are shaking, shaking of rage, of misery of lonliness, all the pent-up feelings that you had are short-circuiting your muscles. The hug is calming, at least he didn't just leave. But ...you are scared of the moment you stop shaking, and he stops hugging you, and tells you to get away, find a new job and someone who would love you back «i ...i'm jealous.» He Whispers

You're shocked to move, did you mishear ?

«i didn't want you to have a date tonight...i didn't want you to meet someone. And ...i ...i think like you, no i...i know i like you, it's...»

And from here on, it's the void, you don't catch any another word. He likes you ?

And finally you cry.

Tears slowly roll down your cheeks, and in the silence you can only concentrate on your ebulliting heat and Bucky's deep breaths. His heart to, is pounding under your ear, and you notice that you are holding into him as strong as you can, and he is doing the same. And from there, your have one feeling, hunger. And you have to satiate it. You've been starving for to long. You can talk later, and, if after you talk it doesn't work out, it will be okey, you want at least this moment. « I want you to keep fucking me.» «What ? No we don't have to..»

«No, i want to. And if you want to too, i want to keep going.» you say with confidence «But doll...»

«Show me what you feel, sir.»

He keeps silent for a moment, and then says slowly, like he is trying to keep control over himself.

«If you are sure, pretty girl. Let me just take this off» his hand travel to your neck to unbuckle the belt, but you stop him again.

«I ... Kind..of like it...can we ...?»

«Ohh doll, you want to keep the belt ? Such a naughty girl. You like the idea of me owning you ?» «Yes sir.»

«Good girl. My good girl...»

You feel his big hand move to your face, cup your cheeks, but...so gently. It's tender, nothing to do with his manners from the begging, and he softly move his face close to yours, looking at you directly in the eyes, the man that have been fucking you senseless, is now, shy and hesitating to kiss you, his eyes are showing just how sorry he feels and how he doesn't know how to act.

«Sir, i want a kiss.» «Yeah ? My pretty girl wants a kiss from me ?» «yes sir.»

His thumb keeps caressing your face while he slowly push his soft plump lips to yours, kissing staying still for a moment, enjoying the calming feeling, it feels like the word is exploding and...you couldn't care less. It feels like ...the chaos have a perfect order. His tongue saunter on your bottom lips, asking patiently for you to open your mouth, you like the kiss as it is and you want to savour the slowness of it for a moment more, knowing that when your tongues meet, there will be now slowness, no patience, just frenzy and hunger. And honestly you also want to test him a bit. So you don't open, but, at your satisfaction, he just waits, he keep tasting your lips, patiently, not forcing anything, not demanding anything. After you feel fed up with feeling him kissing you so purly, you part you lips, and finally give his tongue the access it's been begging for.

Like before big moment of life, there is an instant of calm. The time of a shared breath, where his tongue caress yours, and it's everything your heart needed. The world around you explode and it's perfect. The chaos is exactly where it should be, the chaos is perfectly ordered.

Then the desire takes it's rights again, the frenzy replaces the serenity. The hunger the fullness. The desire the satisfaction. He suddenly pull at the belt, and invade your mouth, owning it, owning you, and this time you gave that to him. He gets drunk on you, the more he drinks the thirstiest he is. His hand travel down your body, drawing every curve and fall before reaching your core. Every nerve of your body is in the edge. and soon as his hand gaze over your pussy, you whimper.

«Did he make you cum, doll ?»

You blush so hard while confessing, «a...ruined orgasm sir...you...you came in just when...»

He can't keep his loud laugh for himself, and his chest trembled filled with his hilarity. Shy, you burry your face is his neck and he caresses your hair. «oh poor baby, you had a ruined orgasm because of me?» He doesn't seem sorry for one bit.

«I don't know if i can be gentle if i fuck you, if you want I can just go down on you and... »

«No, sir, i ...i...still want you to show me how you feel. I can take it all.» «I knew you were perfect for me, doll.»

Your back is slowly pushed against the cold mirror, your hips brought forward, he keeps a firm grip of the belt, keeping your eyes locked, as he slowly burry himself in you. «My sweet girl never told me she wanted me, i was so scared i...i would...you...i..» «Harder sir, i want to feel you, I'll understand.»

He closes his eyes for a second.

And the air is kicked out of you. He slammed into you so hard that it kind of picked you up from the ground, like he was trying to rearrange your guts with all his might. «Bucky !»

hearing you say his name for the fist time must have awaken something in him, because he just seemed to fall in love right then, kissing along your neck, where you blood is pulsing. «Yes that's it doll, say my name...i love hearing my name from you.»

You repeat his name louder and louder as he goes faster and faster and you get closer and closer to your climax. «I want you for myself, i want no one thinking they can own this tight little pussy like i do, do you want me to show everyone that i own this pussy, your pleasure, your body, your love?»

«Yes, yes Bucky i want everyone to know !!!» «You want to cum doll ? You want me to give back the orgasm i ruined for you ?» «YES, Bucky, Please !»

«Hold it. not yet. I took away your orgasm from you, i think it's only fair i decide when you have it.»

«No please !» You desperately beg as you feel him slide out of you leaving you empty and needy.

«chuut, doll, I'm going to let you cum, i know how much you need it, but, not here.» a dangerous spark reflect in his eyes. «what ...what do you mean.» you hesitantly ask, not sure if your are ready for the answer.

«I mean that I'm not done teaching you a lesson.»

He kisses softly on your temple, and, with that, opens the bathroom door, pulling you by the belt, you follow behind, and ... you realise you ...get overly horny from him pulling you by the belt around your throat, you think to yourself «I can't wait to have a leash and collar he can pull me by» you get ashamed from the lewd thoughts. But you love the taste of ownership it gives him on you, and of belonging it gives you. A relationship that you feel have been here for a long time, but expressed for the first time tonight. He looks behind him and winks at you «I know you love me pulling you with my belt on your throat, aren't you a lewd maid, doll» you blush, and hide a slight smile by looking down.

Thinking he was taking you to the bedroom, you dont ask questions, until you over pass the door, and he guides you to the stairs.

«Where are we going ?»

«See, doll, i’m not a man who shares. and i don’t want anyone thinking that they can touch you, in any way. espacially not under my own roof.»

And that’s when you understant. you completly forgot about him. The guy you brought home.

And when you realize, he is already pushing the key in the lock

«finally ! is your boss gone? I thought you..»

Blondie stops right there in his phrase.

Seeing the massive and naked figure of barnes enter the room. Go cocked to talk looks at the man with wife eyes. «What ? Did you think she forgot about you ? Yes she did. She absolutely did.» starts Barnes.

«Who are you ?!» says the kid in an irritated voice. «The owner of the house» cuts Bucky in a dry voice, «Now, do you can get my fist in your baby face, or ...» «No ! Bucky he did nothing !» you intervene without thinking, still hidden behind the door.

«Oh well see whose talking, hiding behind that door. If you want to defend him come in sweetheart.» «i ...i can't.» «yes you can. Baby it's either my fist in his face or you show him who you belong to» «but ...»

«You have three seconds»

You know you don't have any other choice then to enter the room, one arm around you breasts and your legs as close to eachother as you can. You look at the floor, not brave enough to face your "date" of the night.

«What the fuck...is he forcing you to do that ? I'll call the cops.» «They will have nothing to do here.» interrupts Bucky, «Am i forcing you to do that sweetheart ?»

You shake your head.

«speak up.»

«no, no you are not.» «See, she enjoys it, tell him, love» «i enjoy it»

«Yeah ? Come here,» He pulls on the belt pulling you closer to him, and then slipping behind you. «Look how wet she is. That's not for you. That's for me. That's how wet she got when i punished her for fucking you. For thinking that she could be somebody else. Do you wanna see how I take care of her ?»

You think blondie is going to run out of the house, but you hear Bucky's laugh, and a zipper being undone.

«He want to see sweetheart ! Let's give him a show, he came all the way here for you, we can't let him leave with nothing.» «Yes sir.» «Good girl , now bend over the chair.»

Trembling from the anticipation and excitement, you get closer to the chair in the middle of the room and fold your body in half, a yelp escapes your throat when a hard smack is landed on you left ass cheeks, followed by the commanding voice of your boss

«Lower, arches your back»

You do, and his big hand delicately caress the smack mark he just left and then caress you along spine from bottom to your neck, sending shivers in your body. «See, how beautiful she is ? Do you think you deserve such a beautiful woman ? And you idiot would have fucked her what...6 minutes before cuming and calling it a night ? Huh ? No. I'm going to show you how ..»

He slips inside you slowly again, making you gasp when you finally feel him stretching you open around his thick member «how you she deserves to be fucked»

The boy don't answer, to absorb by the vision of you, back arched, hips pushed back, eyes closed, nipples hard, and moth opened, gasping for air. Your whole self is subjugated by a number of feelings. One of them is a sharp feeling deep in your soul, of proudness and excitement, coming from getting fucked by Bucky for an audience.

You can feel every vain on his cock pulse, and the tip targeting your most sensitive spot. Then, slowly dragging himself out, only to roughly push in again. Grabbing you by the hips he maintains a stable rythme, of rough but long thrusts. Dragging himself slowly out of you and penetrating with everything he has. You burry your face in the crook of your arm, now screaming and audibly gasping, and the worst and best part is everytime you try to avoid the roughness of his thrusting by leaning forward, he'd grip your hips tighter, and pull you back on his cock.

«I'm going to cum, sir, sir, i'm ...oh. I'm close...» you desperately cry out, feeling a volcano ready to irrupt in your lungs.

Immediately after those word leave your mouth, his hand closes around your throat, pulling your back, your head to his shoulder, and his other hand fall along your body, to press two firm fingers on your clit

«Good girl, such a good girl, about to cum on her boss's cock, wait, hold it»

Feeling you weaken, and your moans turning to breathy cries he squeezes harder on your neck : « said hold it, doll, you don't want to see what I'd do to you if you don't .»

It takes everything your have for you not to immediately cum, but, and thank God he is not using he's fingers, he is just keeping them on your clit, while he kiss you ear : «look at him baby.»

It takes you a second to understand who is he talking about, but when you get it, you are to close to cumming to fight him, or be shy, you look at the blond boy, who is rapidly stocking his cock, looking at you with hunger.

«See, he's going to cum for your cum from seeings you get fucked.»

Your vision is now blurry, and you have a hard time breathing, with his tight hold on you neck. «who is fucking you ?» «You sir!»

«Yeaah, tell him you love when i fuck you, tell him that you are my fuckdoll.»...«Say it, or you don't get to cum»

«I'm his fuckdoll ! I'm sir's fuckdoll ! I love when he fucks me ! Please can I cum !? I can't hold it !»

You desperately scream out, your last sentence cut because bucky starts furiously moving his fingers on your clit, still not letting go of you neck, but giving you some space, just enough so you not to faint. You hear a loud groan from in front of you and you understand that your "date" just came, and he seems to have come pretty fucking hard. You are yourself ridding the edge, trying not to let go before Bucky's permission.

«He just came for you. You are so fucking beautiful princess. cum, cum on my cock doll, cum right Fucking now.»

«Oh thank you, thank you bucky, oh my ....»

Your whole body shakes and he keep fucking you through your orgasm, his hip movements now messy and practically violent indicate that he is close to cumming to. «Going to fill you up sweetheart. You... okey with....fuck... that ?» «yes yes please.» you reply with a broken voice.

«Good Fucking girl, my good fucking girl» He groans, before stilling deep inside you and shooting hot strings of cum in you tummy, growling and harshly biting at your shoulder.

You go limp in his arms and he hugs you tight. You stay like that for few seconds breathing heavily, while he slowly pulled out.

Suddenly you feel something that sends panic through your body.

«Bucky ! » «don't move sweetheart.»

He's hand once again find your pussy, and he pushes two fingers inside of you

«No, no, I'm serious please i can't go again...»

«I know doll, i know, don't worry»

His fingers slip out of your pussy, covered in his cum and your juices. He then makes you sit on the chair, where you abandon yourself. And ...walks toward the boy, who is just sitting awkwardly on the edge of the bed.

Silently Bucky stands before him, blondie looks at him with big eyes, half afraid half mesmerized. And Bucky...pushes his two coated fingers on the boys lips.

It takes a second.

Then, like obeying to a higher force,

The boy open his lips, and your psycho hot boss pushes his finger deep down his throat, making him taste you two mixed, and gag on his fingers.

Your "date" doesn't say anything, silently taking and licking the fingers, while looking up at your boss.

Bucky finally decides it's enough, take his fingers out the boys mouth, «go home»

Then turn around to you

«Going to sleep with me tonight, right Princess»

«heuu...hmmm excuse me, when, could we do that again ?» shyly ask blondie.

«Never. If you repeat anything of what happened to anyone, If you try to approch her, if i see you around my house, i kill you, now. get out. » conclude bucky in a sharp voice.

Blondie zip up his pants as fast as he can, and runs out of the room with not another word, maybe a little glance at you and... bucky.

Seeing that this last have an arrogant smile, «and That's how you Fuck a woman you're in love with» he screams, before hearing the front door close.

#smut #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes smut #sebastian stan #the winter solider x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #mcu x reader #mcu smut #bucky barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes imagine

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writingsbychlo · 3 years

Note

💭hi chloe, congrats! could u do a dating ff!tommy head canon (like the ones you have for stiles and mitch) i miss him 🥺

under the cut! i will also link this to my masterlist, because I know how much y'all like these!

PDA

Tommy is kiiiiinda in a middle ground about PDA

He doesn’t feel the need to go over the top, but he isn’t shy about it either

He’ll kiss his girl when he wants, and he isn’t shy of affection either

Little nudges and pokes and a lot of random hugs

On a call together, he keeps it professional, of course

But in your own time? He’s a free man, and he’ll love his girl if he wants to

At the house, he can be extra with PDA, just to annoy everyone

If he gives you a little kiss, or does something which anybody teases him for, he goes into overdrive, just to annoy them

A lot of ‘my love’, ‘angel’, ‘light of my life’, ‘love of my life’, ‘hey pretty girl’

A lot of flirting too

“Oh, damn, good thing we’re firemen because you are smokin’.” and such

He will one hundred percent grab your ass and run away

You’ve actually become pretty used to it, actually

Little slaps, or pinches, or grabs, and then he just runs away laughing

Thinkin’ he’s doing something

But he still blushes when you flirt back, in literally any situation

Using a fire-related pick-up line

“Well, damn, lieutenant, you’d better come over here and handle me then.”

And his jaw would drop and he’d get cute pink cheeks

Which definitely leads to some PDA because he’ll grab your face and kiss you

The PDA gets more after a hard call but nobody says anything then

Hand holding and cuddling and playing with hair

Soft kisses and whispered reassurances while holding each other’s faces

Honestly, he’s not big on making an exhibition, but he will give out a lot of love

HANGING OUT

Hanging out happens a lot

For starters, there’s all day at work, especially on slow days when you might not even get a case

At the beginning of the relationship, that would be awesome, because ‘honeymoon phase’ and all

But once you’ve moved past that and into a more serious relationship, that can be an issue

Like if there’s been a dispute at home or one of you is on edge

So hanging out is pretty much never alone at work

And you try to break it up into chunks too

Making sure you have a girls night with Brenda at least once a week

And once a week he has a guys night, and you plan them on separate days

You actually have too much hang out time on your hands, and it can be a strain

Once you’ve got it down, though, it’s easy

Having TV shows that you binge together, and will never watch without the other

Cleaning and doing household chores together always becoming fun

Especially when you build a playlist for these jobs, and end up dancing and singing together

Also, cooking together

Which is actually usually just one of you cooking, and the other sitting on the counter just to chat

Grocery shopping alone, and making appointments alone

Just so that you always have time apart, to keep things distanced

DATE NIGHT

Date nights are hard to plan when you live together and have such busy jobs

You rarely ever actually feel the need to go out and about to have a date

Really, you just want to get in your comfies and relax together

At first, you both kind of force yourselves to go out

Making bookings and dressing up and going out for dinner

You feel like you owe it to yourselves at the beginning

Even though you don’t need to do the small talk and whatnot

After that, drive through dates in the middle of the night, or going on walks in the park count as dates

And after that, you honestly stop counting dates

You’re just together

Long before you move in together, you’re already basically living together

You drive home from work together, and choose who’s place to crash at

So dates as a concept are pretty irrelevant after a pretty short amount of time

SEX

Oh, don’t even get me started on this

He’s always horny after regular cases

Watching you go into ‘action mode’, he loves it

And you feel the same about him

Definitely having hooked up in the showers a few times at work while you were still in that phase

His hand over your mouth and trying not to let the sounds be too obvious

Trying to keep quiet and failing at it

You’re pretty sure everyone knows, but nobody said anything

Also fucking in one of the firetrucks and the ambulance

When you get a little more self-control, morning sex is usually the way forwards

Because you’re both always so tired after shifts

So morning sex is usually the way to go

If it is morning sex, it’s always sloppy and clingy and passionate

Slow thrusts and wandering hands and deep kisses

Shower sex is also a regular visitor in the morning sex regime

“It’s hot, and easy clean-up, and it’s hot. I see no downsides.”

He loves shower sex

However, if you’ve been out with the team, you’re probably both a little tipsy

Team nights lead to drinking, lead to Thomas openly saying how much he loves how hot his girlfriend is and getting wandering hands

Also kinda sloppy and clingy sex

But a lot hotter

Because you have more energy than mornings, and you’ve got a little liquor behind it

So it’s the times when you both get a little wilder

Day off sex is different, though

Day off sex is much more like making love than just fucking

Because it’s a lazy day, so you’re both in pyjamas

And he’s just turned on because he loves you so much

It’s quite literally just ‘seriously, you’re so cute and I love you so much’ sex

Wearing his oversized shirts and sweatpants and odd socks

And he’s wearing plaid pants or sweats and old shirts

Literally nothing sexy about it but damn you just have so much love

So those are the days where he takes you apart piece by piece

Slow and deep, so much love and kisses

Dirty talk is more just loving confessions

It’s not “I’m gonna have you screaming my name” like drunk sex or morning sex

But it more like “I’m gonna love you forever, I swear it”

Yeah, he’s always clingy, though

AFTERCARE

Big on aftercare. Big big big.

He’s always affectionate but he’s extra affectionate after sex

Brushing your hair back out of your face

If he got messy, he gets a cloth and cleans you up

Plus a lot of cuddling

“You want anything? Some water, I want some water. You want a snack?”

Sometimes you do, sometimes you don’t

If you do, he helps you out on some loose clothes and makes something simple like poptarts

If you don’t he gets you water when he gets his own and brings it to bed

Always helps you get back into some kind of pyjamas afterwards

Even if it’s just throwing them to you if you’re not completely fucked out

Cuddling under the covers afterwards

And it doesn’t get awkward, either

two seconds later, once you’re all cuddled up, he’ll jump right in with “so, guess what my mom texted before-”

And he just skips into the gossip and chatter without any awkwardness

THINGS YOU STEAL FROM EACH OTHER

Ohhh a lot

You wear a lot of his hoodies and shirts and coats

He likes things to be comfortably big on himself, so they’re quite large on you

He steals your slippers and fluffy for a while

Your place has hardwood floors but his has carpets, so when he comes over, his feet get cold

He stretches out your socks and slippers

So you start buying them bigger so they’re comfortable for him

He doesn’t realise until he sees you trip over the extra-long toe length one day

So he buys you your own

You now have like 15 pairs that are alternated around

Honestly, each other’s phones

What do you have to hide from him? You work together, you live together, you have the same friends

So, you use one another’s phones

To get in the groupchat and just reply, or to call someone or send a text

It’s really just about whoever’s phone is closest

He steals your netflix account before moving in

And you steal his spotify premium

His car

It’s cooler and has a smoother drive and you like it

So you like to drive his car around a lot

He always subtly complains about it

“That car is my baby.”

“I thought I was your baby.”

“You’re my angel.”

But he always hands over the keys willingly

And he complains about adjusting the seat after you’ve used it

But he buys the air fresheners you like

PICK UP LINES HE LIKES TO USE

A lot of straight-up firemen puns

“Get rid of your smoke detector, sleep with a fireman.”

“The fire might be out, but you’re smokin’ hot.”

I’m a fireman. I’m an expert in what’s hot.”

But he’s also soft and cheesy and in love with his paramedic girlfriend so

“I’m glad you know CPR, because you just took my breath away.”

“Do you have a band-aid? Because I scraped my knees falling for you.”

“If you’re here, who’d running heaven?”

“Your hand looks heavy, want me to hold it for you?”

“I just stole a kiss. Want it back? Come get it.”

GOING ON CALLS TOGETHER

He's a professional little baby

He won’t let his love for you get in the way, because he knows you’ll yell at him for it

He has a job to do, and he learned the hard way that he has to prioritise that

A lot of arguments and tearful confessions and deep chats made the understanding

But that doesn’t mean you don’t have a few traditions

If it’s just a regular case with him going into a building and you staying outside, it’s the usual

Whispered reassurances as a plan is formed

Before you lock your pinkies, and pull each other close, and kiss your thumbs

It started because you kept bumping your head on his helmet when you tried to give him quick kisses

And then getting in trouble for kissing on the scene when one of the local papers reported on workplace romances

And you aren’t technically doing anything wrong but it made you both mad

So it became a pinky lock, and kissing the edges of your own hand

Because that’s the best you could get

However, if you have to go into a building, he checks your kit himself

You gave up fighting him on it

The only way he was gonna feel reassured was if he’d checked it all himself

Just allowing him to do so at this point

Bumping your helmets together softly before you go inside

When you go inside, you always walk behind him

He never directly demanded that when you were working out boundaries after an argument

But you know it makes him feel better

Always sticking close to his side, and remembering the flashlight technique he’d taught you if you wander off

After cases, when you get back to the firehouse, you always have reassuring little kisses

And that’s his time to support you

Always letting you check him over, even when he’s not hurt

Because he knows that it makes you feel better

And if you have to take a detour to the hospital with patients, he makes sure he has a mug of tea and a snack ready for you when you get back

#9ksleepover

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secondhand-trash · 4 years

Text

Kinktober 2020 — under the table

A/N: omg it has been half a year since I last wrote any ghost!shinsou this is why I should never do series- but anyways here is out first fic for kinktober, kicking it off with the return of ghost boyfriend!^^

Warning: oral (receiving), fingering

Word count: 2641

What kind of street do ghosts prefer to live on?

Shinsou sat on the kitchen counter crossed leg as you paced around the room, mumbling to yourself as you checked off everything that was laid out.

“Remind me, why are you suddenly in need of learning how to cook again?"

You turned around with a sigh, shoving your hands into the pockets of your apron. (The purple apron with cats printed all over it was Shinsou’s, he had spent hours looking for it when you suddenly came to him saying that you needed to learn how to cook a decent proper meal within a week.)

It all started when you got a message from your mom one Sunday afternoon. You were sitting cross legged on the living room floor, all the old records left in the house by one of its previous owners sprawled out all around you. You had decided that it was not ok to just stack all of them up in the corner and pulled your ghost boyfriend to sort everything out so you could store them properly. He had protested but got shut down when you made the very valid argument that he literally didn’t have anything else better to do, to which he claimed that you were abusing his status as a ghost to get him to provide labour.

You were still trying to explain to him why arranging everything by alphabetical order was a better way of sorting than doing it by genre when your passionate rambling was disrupted by a ping from your phone. Shinsou watched as you picked it up with a smile, then freezing in place when you read the message, and your eyes going from dead to contemplating to panicking in a matter of seconds.

He shifted to sit closer to you when you put your phone onto the ground, your eyes as wide as saucers while staring blankly ahead.

“Is everything ok?” he asked, giving you a light tap on your forearm.

“Toshi,”

“Yes?”

You blinked, before opening your mouth slowly, “Can you teach me how to cook?”

Fast forward a few days ahead and there he was, pondering how long it had been since he last tried to cook anything. Shinsou was not a master chef by all means, but in the short period of time when he was alive and actually needed food to survive, he had trained himself to be somewhat of a decent cook in order to save money from buying takeout. He never really thought much about it but now that he watched you struggle to chop up an onion with oddly placed hands and slicing down cutting only the thinnest slice at a time, he realised that he had never seen you cook something more elaborate than sunny-side up on instant noodles since you moved into the house he haunted.

“You can always order take out and then transfer them onto your own plates or something,” he leaned to the side, his brows locked together at how clumsy you were, “I’m sure your parents won’t notice.”

You turned around with an exasperated sigh and he immediately reached out to warn you from waving the knife around, “Yes but this is the first time they’ll come over and I want to show that I, you know, have my shit together!”

“If you keep swinging that thing around then you won’t even have all five fingers together,” he clicked his tongue, hopping off the kitchen counter when you flashed him a sheepish smile as you slowly put the knife down. He walked over, blinking a few times at the poor onion that looked like it just suffered from a failed beheading. He sighed pitifully, and you happily handed him the blade when he extended his hand to you.

“Here, I’ll show you how it’s done,” his fingers were arched up against the vegetable as he skillfully sliced them up, “did you microwave the potatoes as I told you to?”

“Yeah, I put them in there directly.”

He paused, “Didn’t you put the dices into a metal bowl?”

You tiled your head, not understanding why he would bring that up. “Yeah?”

"...metals will explode in the microwave.”

“Oh fuck-”

You solved the issue of your hopelessness in the kitchen by not going in at all.

Shinsou took up the task of cooking on the night your parents would be visiting after witnessing you almost burning yourself on the stove from boiling water. Humans could be such fragile creatures sometimes, he thought to himself as he picked the pot up from the fire with his bare hands, feeling not even a tickle on his deadly cold skin.

He still thought that you were being way too dramatic with the way you checked the table every time you passed by and adjusting the utensils on top even though the difference would not be noticed by anyone that wasn’t you.

But still, when he saw you getting yourself into near death situations from the smallest of tasks, he decided that if he couldn’t get you to give up your plan of serving up a homemade supper then he would take the matter into his own hands.

Your mortality was far more important over his cynicism and the last thing he wanted was to chain you down in this house with him for a cause as dumb as you accidentally blowing the kitchen up.

“Kitten,” he sighed as he put down the salad bowl in the center of the table, holding onto your fidgeting hands, “you are starting to make me nervous and they can’t even see me.”

You paused, and he felt the dread building up in his chest when he realised that he had said the wrong thing as your eyes widened. “Oh god, what if they can see you too? How should I explain to them that I’m living with someone? I-”

Your rambling was interrupted a ring of the bell that echoed through the house. You sucked in a deep breath, squeezing his hand tight as if you could calm yourself down with the coldness of his skin.

“Should I hide?” he asked when you got to the door.

You ran your hand down your face, your knuckles popping out as you gripped onto the metal doorknob. “They can’t see you, right?”

Shinsou felt a strange stir in his chest when he saw the dramatic change in expression on your face the moment the door was opened. Shivers crept up on him when your parents looked around the house, their gaze going directly past him even though he was standing right next to you. He sighed. He had gotten so used to you that he had instinctively expected to be noticed when most people would not even pick up on his existence at all.

“Who were you talking to just then?”

“What?” you let out a forced chuckle, hoping that the panic that flashed through your eyes would not be recognisable, “No, no one. It’s just me.”

He was left at the side as you showed your guests to the dining room, walking straight past him. He stood there as the familiar feeling of being invisible caught up to him like a wave.

Would you have introduced him to your parents had he been alive?

It wasn’t often that he thought of the possibilities had he stayed alive. In fact, he truly did think he had reached the point where he was content with the situation he was stuck in. There were lonely times, times when he was very much so here but didn’t feel like it as the world past him by, leaving him as nothing but a fragment in the past that was sealed within these walls. But then you showed up, and then suddenly he had company. Someone to hold at night, someone to laugh with, someone who would correct him when he did the wrong steps while clumsily following dance tracks. Everything seemed to be great, even though he still had limits to be bound to.

“This is amazing,” an unexplained irritation welled up in his chest at the surprised gasp of your mother reached his ear. “did you really make this yourself?”

“Of course, I’ve been learning how to cook since I moved out!”

It was always odd to watch a family interact from the point of view of a complete stranger. He could see everything more clearly but also knew nothing about the dynamic or the nuance behind each word. He thought of his own family for the first time in years as he watched you smiled cordially at the table.

He wondered what they would think about you too.

Perhaps he had underestimated how much years of loneliness had affected him, or he just wasn’t keen on being reminded that no matter how real this all was, you two were still very much so on the different side of life and death, and the sudden emptiness was suffocating him.

It was like you had forgotten that he was still there too, and he wasn’t happy about it.

You sat at the table, pushing the food on your plate around as you eyed your parent’s reaction nervously. They seemed to be enjoying it, giving “your cooking" compliment after compliment. You would have to really reward Shinsou for his help later on, you thought to yourself as the knots in your stomach slowly loosened up.

Where was he now? Did he really hide up? You tried to glance around as subtly as you could manage, seeing if you could catch a glimpse of violet hair poking out from the corners.

You dropped your knife when you felt something cold touching your calf.

“Is something wrong?”

“No, everything is fine,” you forced out a smile but inside you were panicking. What the fuck? What was he doing under there?

You nearly couldn’t hold in the gasp you were about to let out when his head slid up from your calf to your knees, pushing them apart. Your hand instinctively gripped onto the edge of the tabletop, not able to move away in fear that your parents who were sitting right opposite to you would pick up on the way your jaw was clenched.

You had no way of ignoring his touch as he gripped onto your thighs. His ice cold fingers sent shivers down your spine as he danced them across your warm skin, each tap and each stroke of his fingertip along the root of your leg had you sitting straighter and straighter against the back of your chair.

“So, what have you been up to lately?”

“Oh, nothing much-” you coughed when his finger brushed past your clothed slit. You tried to close your legs shut but you were stuck with him being right in between. Your breath hitched when your panties were peeled off, your now bare cunt clenched around nothing reflectively when the layer of fabric was suddenly gone.

You felt terribly vulnerable with your legs being pushed back and for a split second, you were hyper aware of even the tiniest twitch of your muscles. Your parents didn’t seem to notice that you were sitting awfully stiff in your seat, your legs feeling like they were about to cramp up with how hard you were trying to close them up.

“Mm-” you bit down on your lips when he licked a long strip up from the very bottom of your folds all the way up to your hooded clit, his tongue pulling away with a flick against the small bud.

“Did you just say something?”

“Oh no, you must have misheard,” the muscles around your face was twitching as you tried to remain a neutral expression as he continued to alternate between swirling and pressing down on your clit with the tip of his tongue.

Fuck him for knowing your body so well.

Your legs were shaking under the jolts of electricity that shot up from your core all the way up to the back of your neck. He seemed to only get more vigorous with his licks and sucks, lapping up on the wetness that was starting to seep out of you. Your toes curled and uncurled, gripping onto the floor to your desperation as his cold breath fanned across your sopping pussy. Each drag of his tongue had you spasming, the lack of temperature on his lips numbing your senses as he dipped his tongue in with each flick.

“Anybody you are seeing?”

All movements paused. His teeth graced past your clit tentatively, as if questioning what you were gonna do. You gulped, feeling the tip of your ears burned up.

“No-”

You jolted forward when he placed a hard suck on your clit. Your parents eyed you with a confused stare and you gripped onto the glass on the table, bringing it to your trembling lips to take a sip.

He slipped his tongue in, dragging it along your walls at a rough pace. The corner of your lips was twitching, dreading the fact that your parents seemed to take your choked answer as a sign that you were hiding something. You gritted through your teeth, trying hard to not let any of the moans that were threatening to slip out leaked.

You could hear the slurping, like he had done a sloppy job concealing each pop and lap on purpose. It was like the two of you were in your own world, and the other people were intruders sitting there with a veil separating the two of you. He paid close attention to the way you reacted to each touch, the muscle of your legs flexing under his hand as the heaving of your chest got heavier and heavier.

You could almost feel blood on your lips from how hard you were biting down when he slipped his fingers in, matching the rhythm of his tongue with the pumping of his digits. You brought your napkin to your lips, covering your parted mouth.

You nearly screamed into your napkin when he crooked his finger, the prodding of his joints inside of your spongey walls had your muscles clenching down.

His mouth left your folds with a lingered lick before pulling his fingers out with a languish drag, his lips ghosted along your inner thigh until he was gone completely. No more touches on your skin, not even a puff of air anywhere near you. He was just gone, vanished into thin air with nothing but your fluttering folds and the mess between your legs to remind you that he had very much so been kneeling there and making you crumble down just moments earlier.

You gave a slight shake of your head when your parents once again questioned the way your face scrunched up, your hand shaking as you dropped the napkin down onto your lap.

Stupid fucking ghost and their disappearing acts.

“We had been worry about you when you said you want to move out but it seems like you are doing fine, perhaps we really worried too much...”

“I told you so,” you said as you opened the door. Your smile was rigid on your face as you walked your parents to the door, trying very hard to ignore the dullness between your legs, “come back at any time!”

Your smile dropped the moment the door shut in front of your eyes. Turning around on your heels, Shinsou was right there, a lazy smile tugging on his face with no remorse.

He had his arms crossed, leaning all his weight on one leg in a posture that was not fitted for someone who nearly had you moaning out loud in front of your parents.

You grinned, and he felt goosebumps rising on his skin at how innocent and sweet the smile was.

“You’re sleeping in the guest room tonight.”

Back to the masterlist

A dead end

#bnha imagines #bnha imagine #bnha x reader #bnha smut #shinsou x reader #shinsou imagine #shinsou smut #shinsou imagines #kinktober 2020

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moonlightdreamzz · 3 years

Text

empathetic — woozi

all you want, is for jihoon to care.

you always knew your boyfriend was more of an onion, and not a sunflower. what you mean by that, is that he had many layers to him, and he could not be pulled easily. if you wanted to peel the different pieces off of him, you had to work for it, but quite frankly you think you deserved a lot more than he had given you in the past couple of days.

you considered your body to be strong, but weak at the same time. you caught disease quite quickly such as colds, flu’s, and infections, but you also whooped its ass everytime. oddly enough, one of the things you looked forward to when you finally met your match was having someone to coo over your warm temperatures. a man who would surprise you with warm soups and extra blankets, who would also lay in bed with you no matter what was going on and give you kisses.

lee jihoon was not that man, which you knew, but you had no idea it would be this bad.

you were a mess - definitely not the prettiest sight you could conjure of yourself. you don’t remember the last time you saw your thick hair, which was never tamable on a good day, but especially for this past week had you just not been feeling any of your usual trials and tribulations of trying to figure out what to do with yourself. your bonnet had found itself halfway off your head from your tossing and turning through the night.

if you had the energy, you would crochet your hair. quick and easy timing, but also a cute look. jihoon also appreciated it on you, and you unfortunately lived to please him.

you weren’t dying at the moment, but you did have some concerning symptoms - a cough. so, symptom. of course your boyfriend did not bat an eye whatsoever for the past week as he scrambled through your home silently like the cute little mouse he was.

today is no different, but still your patience has completely ran thin. the penthouse you two shared was large enough so that whenever he wanted to hide from you, he could, and you knew that’s exactly what he was doing at this current moment.

when he finally walks into your shared bedroom ever so quietly, you can tell he was praying you were asleep.

“why are you hiding from me?” you question immediately. you don’t have much on, as you always got hot so easily. no shirt covered your body, just panties, but you and jihoon had been together so long that he was immune to your bare flesh. now that you think about it, you can’t remember the last time the two of you made any kind of love. luckily you didn’t need sex all the time in order to be satisfied, but jihoon wasn’t giving you anything at all.

“huh?” he responds quickly - proof you were right. you hated how cute he was, especially when he had what you referred to as his “morning puff”. he always had a chunky, sweet little face, but when he woke up from long nights in the studio, it was extra squishy and normally you would enjoy kissing all over his adorable face, but not today. you were upset.

“have you not heard me coughing for the past week?”

he turns to face you now. you’re sure he had a flashback to the many arguments where you begged him to look at you in your eyes. at least he cared about something you’ve said to him in the past.

“i have.” is all he says. that’s really all he has to say?

“and you haven’t done shit about it?”

“why are you cursing at me?”

“because I’m tired of the non-chalant attitude.”

he sighs out loud. that was his way of telling you he had better things to do. even so, he crawls on top of the bed and presses a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“relax, baby.” he encourages. “what do you want? i’ll order your favorite.”

this is what you referred to as the attempt. a very poor one, but an attempt never the less.

would it be wrong of you to ask for something home made? would that make you selfish? all of the other girlfriends gagged about whenever any minor issues went on with them, how the boys would cater to their every need like they were the queen of the entire world or something. why didn’t jihoon treat you that way? was he too comfortable?

“y/n?” he speaks, knowing you completely ignored his question in exchange for what if’s.

“nevermind.” you mutter, laying back on your California king.

“don’t do that.” he sighs. he’s irritated with you for sure, but what do you care?

“do you even care?” you question. “like seriously?”

“if I didn’t care I wouldn’t be sitting in this house with you. and I just told you I would buy you whatever you want. i don’t know what more you want me to do.”

“i want you to act like my boyfriend of a million years. i want you to coddle me and give me kisses and offer to wash my hair.”

“in what world is anybody allowed to touch your hair?” he questions seriously as his eyebrows scrunch together in completely confusion and irritation.

“does it matter if I would say no?”

he chuckles, but not in a way where he thinks you’re cute. you’re only making the situation worse in his eyes. “do you want the food or not?”

“do you remember when we first started dating?” you stand up promptly, your thighs rubbing together as you get closer to him.

“y/n, why do you expect me to be the exact same way I was when I first met you?”

“why do people have this weird belief that once you start dating for a certain amount of years that love has to slow down?”

“so you’re saying I don’t love you?”

“i’m saying i have been clearly sick for the past week and all you’ve been is cooped up in your studio like a damn crack addict. what I’m saying is, we are in a relationship but you don’t even care to ask me am I okay. i’m not dating you to still feel like I’m alone!”

“you do realize the only person who pays bills in this nice little house is me right? how else can I do that if not ‘cooped up in my studio like a crack addict’” he quotes directly from you.

“do you realize that you’re the one who told me I didn’t have to pay a bill in this house?”

“whatever.”

he tries to walk away, but you know it’s only because he hates to argue, especially recently. it was something about it that really pained him.

“baby.” you lower your tone from all the unnecessary yelling. you touch his hand, but he snatches it away so hard that you flinch and fall to the ground. “baby...” you whisper faintly, hoping that he’ll care. for once in a long time will he just care. but he doesn’t. with his pajamas still on does he snatch his keys and walk straight out of your - well, his apartment. he slams the door too.

you honestly couldn’t recall how much time had passed since he departed from your home. usually when the two of you fought, you could easily find ways to distract yourself while also ignoring your mild heartbreak from his actions. but for some reason, this time, you couldn’t stop thinking this may have been the end.

that was usually the case when you felt like someone was falling out of love with you when you did absolutely nothing to deserve it.

you tried to listen to music. you tried to cook, but you sucked terribly at cooking Korean food and that’s all you had in your possession. you tried to sleep, but with everything running through your mind, that was impossible. so here you were, stuck with your thoughts.

you also still had the terribly annoying cough.

you didn’t have many friends here. the only people who checked on you were vernon, coups, and mingyu. you were expecting to get a call from one of them any second now.

like clock work, your phone is ringing. quite frankly you weren’t prepared to see Vernon’s name pop up on your phone simply because he was the one who called the least, but you didn’t mind. he always got you turnt whenever you were down, and even when you were fighting with woozi he didn’t suddenly treat you like you didn’t exist. he was always a neutral party.

“hello?” you say softly - your voice hoarse from the constant coughing you were doing.

“hey.” his voice speaks softly, “you alright?”

“yeah I’m fine, just not feeling my best. i have this annoying ass cough and it’s not going away and I’m also alone so, just fine.” you chuckle while burying yourself deeper into the bed if that was even possible.

“damn, you been smoking that good?”

“unlike you, I only smoke on special occasions vernon.”

“yeah whatever. how’s woozi? haven’t been able to get ahold of him.”

“he’s fine...I think. he’s been trying to hide from me but that’s been the norm lately if I’m being honest.”

“wait, you said you were alone.” vernon remembers, “we’ve been off all week where is your boyfriend?”

“you know...being himself.” you and vernon may have not spoke as much, but when you did talk to him, everything flowed out. every secret. it should be like this with woozi, but. “maybe it’s my fault.” you sigh, scratching your scalp from outside your bonnet, “i kind of...asked for a lot I guess.”

“like?”

“well, I’m not feeling well. i just felt upset because it seemed like he was purposely trying to avoid me so I wouldn’t have the chance to ask him to do anything for me. and the thing is, I wasn’t going to ask for anything but a lousy fucking hug - a cuddle. the bare minimum. i would have even taken a no but to be avoided? it hurt my feelings and we fought and—ugh. he stormed out the house and I have no idea where he is and I want to call him but truthfully what did I do wrong vernon? lately I’ve been feeling like I’m in a relationship with myself and I know we can be better than this. woozi used to be the sweetest little baby. he may have been hard to others, but he opened up for me. i feel shut out.”

you feel so much better getting all of that out, even though you know your boyfriend may have not appreciated the sentiment.

you know vernon listened to every single word and and would come back with some heartfelt advice.

“just give it time y/n. i can’t speak on jihoon like I am him, but if there’s one thing I know? it’s that you are the only person he truly loves that doesn’t share his bloodline. of course he loves us, but you - he opens up to you. he’s allowed you to see him. maybe there’s something going on. or maybe he just didn’t know what to do. just let him come back to you and see what happens.”

“thank you vernon. forreal.” you don’t know why his words affected you so much and made you feel such a heavy weight of guilt in the part where you held your boyfriend so deeply - your heart, but you did.

more hours had passed, and still no sign of woozi. you even tossed your pride away and called him, only to be sent straight to voicemail. you must have really irritated him, but you still didn’t feel sorry. you didn’t move your pride aside that much.

you did feel somber though, considering how much you loved him even through how he had been acting lately. and without him in your life, there was no reason for you to be here - in Korea. you didn’t want to end things. you just wanted to feel loved.

you still haven’t gotten out the bed except when you needed to pee. YouTube and funny clips had been keeping your company. maybe it was because of boredom, but things began to get darker and darker in your home. you were fading into a bitter sweet slumber. regardless, it’s what you needed. maybe your cough would subdue.

jihoon is quiet as a mouse as always when he walks inside, hands full of multiple things. all day had your words rang through his mind that was already full of so many things. had he really been making you feel so worthless? like you weren’t the most important person for his soul other than his family? actually, you were his family. there was never a day where he felt like he deserved you, but the minute the two of you kissed for the first time did he know that he would do whatever he had to, to keep you forever.

so when did he stop? he kind of knew he hadn’t been his best, but he didn’t know why. it was as if he was doing it on purpose, but not because of something you did. lately, it had just been so hard to keep up with everything in his life. all of the schedules seventeen had. and in between, as he was one of the frequent producers for the group, there were so many deadlines he had to meet he just felt so overwhelmed.

but he heard you coughing, and he was so worried. even so, he didn’t ask you what was wrong. why didn’t he ask you - his baby - what’s wrong? especially after it was day three and the cough was not improving? any other man who would practically rip his limbs off to be with you, would have been catering to your every need. they would have gave you all the kisses you needed, would have given you a full body massage, and offered to wash your hair even knowing that the answer was going to be no.

but he didn’t.

when he left, he was so angry. but not at you, at himself. vernon was the first person he called as he knew that while the two of you didn’t talk often, that he was the one who knew how to get your exact feelings. he hated how much of a wimp he sounded like when he had to bargain a song in exchange for vernon to call you. vernon declined and called you anyway.

to hear you on the phone, telling vernon that you felt as if you weren’t loved. feeling like you were in a relationship with yourself? that broke him. so, he called another one of his members who he knew would guide him into the right direction - mingyu.

“ill order everything, hyung. all you have to do is pick everything up. what you need to do right now, is practice your apology. oh, and pick up some cough medicine for her.”

so he did. his little body struggled to get everything inside, but he figured you would be asleep at this time. when you were bored, you had a tendency to doze off.

his instructions were to set everything up real nice on a table and serve it to you as if you were on a date, but woozi knew you better than that. he knew all you wanted to do was eat in bed and go right back to sleep. and talk.

he walks through the slim hallway that leads into your shared bedroom, and he was right. you were sleeping. the tv shined on your beautiful skin that he loved to place his cheek on whenever he felt any negative or positive emotion. he wasn’t sure what was on the tv. you probably weren’t either. you both loved to put on random movies and shows and talk about how much they sucked.

he approaches you gently - afraid that any little noise would startle you. he places everything on the fluffy sheets; the roses, your meal, your medicine, and the usb with the song he had been saving for you all lined up in orderly fashion. your bonnet is falling off your head as always, so he adjusts it. you had a pet peeve about that.

you were so beautiful. the most beautiful person he had ever met in his entire life. and you loved him. you - the brightest star in the galaxy and the sweetest soul chose him out of all of the people you had attempting to steal your heart. he couldn’t let another second go by without fixing this.

“baby.” he whispers. his thumb caresses your ear gently. he always wanted to be this guy. the hopeless romantic, always knew what to do guy, but girls never wanted him. he was always too short, too boring, all of the bad things. you never felt that way though. you always told him he was the perfect size for you. that he wasn’t boring, it was just that people never wanted to take the time to get to know him.

you moved slightly, but he knew he had just only scraped whatever dream you were currently in. he had to try a little harder to return you back to the world. his lips find themselves on your sweet face, just as you do to him every morning. little by little is he painting his love on you until you finally begin to stir.

“are you a murderer?” are the first words you speak.

you were always so hilarious, even without trying. he knew that was a genuine question no matter how funny the delivery was.

“no. i hope not.” he responds.

he can see you recognize his voice from the way you release the breathe he didn’t even know you were holding. woozi expected you to push him off you the minute you realized it was him, but you didn’t.

“hi baby.” you whisper, pulling him into you.

“hi baby.” he repeats, inhaling your sweet scent. it always made him feel like he was in heaven.

you pull back, cuffing his chubby face into his hands. if there was one thing about your fights with jihoon, it was that it wasn’t hard to make up. a simple look in each others eyes was enough to make up for everything. it was such a toxic trait, but it worked out.

“wait.” you breathe out as you notice everything behind your boyfriend. “ji...”

“it’s nothing, y/n.” he sighs, moving back so he can have a full view of you. “it’s what I should be giving you every fucking day. you are my queen. you are the only thing that is keeping me sane with this lifestyle.”

“everyday would drive even me crazy, ji.” you giggle, “you know that’s not what this is about. it’s just, I know how we used to be and I know how we are now. i don’t want us to get so comfortable with each other that we forget why we are together. you know that happened to my parents and I want to be with you forever.”

“i know.” all of sudden he feels it - the feeling he’s been feeling for the past couple of weeks whenever something bad happens. his whole body feels sick. he hasn’t told you about it because he thought it would go away, but it hasn’t. it seems as if this is going to be the worse one as it does involve the love of his life.

“hey.” you sit up, throwing one of his shirts that laid free on the bed. “what’s wrong babe? i’m here. i’m right here.”

you had never seen him like this before. you knew there was no such thing as a person who didn’t have internal issues, but this seemed like something that had been wanting to boil over for a while. you knew what severe anxiety looked like as you suffered from it. this was it.

“i don’t know, y/n.” he breathes out shakily. “this has been...happing lately.”

“why didn’t you tell me? hm?”

“i don’t know. i don’t know anything other than that I love you. and that I’m sorry.” he seems to be calming down from your touch. had he known this was all he needed, all the pain he suffered would have never taken place. he should have known though. you were his angel after all.

“we tell each other everything, baby.” you remind him as you begin to place gentle kisses onto his neck. “never forget that. there is nothing we can’t get through together.”

“i know.” is all he can say - your lips were too much of a distraction for him especially when he hasnt felt them in so long. he always craved you, but the two of you always took a lot of breaks. your relationship was much deeper than your love making no matter how addicted the two of you were to eachother.

you want to get right into it. you want to throw him on the bed, and ride every ounce of anxiety your boyfriend has right off, and then you want to eat your food, take your medicine, and drift into what you know will be the best sleep you’ve gotten in a while. but you two had to talk. everything needed to be squashed.

“ji, what can I do to fix this? i don’t like the way I’ve been feeling. and I know you don’t either.”

“you are perfect. you always have been. it’s me, but I promise I’ll do better. i’ll get everything under control.”

“you mean we will get everything under control. honestly baby, let’s not even use that terminology. we will learn to overcome this. anxiety is completely normal. you just can’t let it control you okay? and we have to communicate. don’t be afraid to show me any parts of you especially when you’ve seen my literal insides.” you joke, just to see his smile. he does, and it’s so bright. your foreheads lean into eachother immediately - natural just like your love.

“i love you.” he whispers.

“i love you.” you repeat. the two of you tried your best to not add too, to that sentence, as it meant in exchange for the other ones love and that’s not what was going on here. no matter what, the two of you loved each other. even if one stopped.

woozi goes back to buisness immediately, knowing you two were better now. his hands remove the covers that covered your body, and his tounge finds itself on your neck - his favorite place that’s not inside you.

“you feeling better?” he questions, still attacking you.

“i think this will distract me for a bit.” you giggle

“i’ll make it it all go away. you know I will.” are his final words before he lays on top of you, sliding his shirt off of your body with ease.

you were in for a long night. and the two of you still were in need of a conversation about what he was going through, but you knew what the both of you needed in this moment. you needed to feel each other again.

#seventeen #kpop black reader #kpop ambw #kpop poc #poc kpop #ambw kpop #woozi imagine #seventeen imagine #seventeen x poc reader #woozi angst #woozi fluff

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daily-commission-fear · 3 years

Text

So because of everything that’s happened and because I’m Autistic myself I wanna try and write some headcanons of a gn mc with Autism with the brothers. Also please remember this is my first time writing something like this and I also have dyslexia so this probably won’t be the best but this is very self indulgent anyway but still please tell me if I make stupid mistakes anyway let’s go

Lucifer

He saw it on your record before you came to the devildom, told diavolo and barbatos about it so they could set up anything extra that you may need and while he didn’t tell his brother directly that your autistic just in case that would make you uncomfortable he set some ground rules with them on what not to do.

Originally this was just for diavolo and so the exchange program went well. But the More he got to learn and care about you it turned from must make sure they can manage so the program will go well to I need to make sure there not just getting by also comfortable and happy

If you have sensory issues his rooms always open as its chill most of the time and if you are the type of person that needs headphones on as long as you promise not to tell Levi he will get you the newest ones that are wireless so you can were them all the time in public.

If you have a special interest loves to hear you talk about them while he does his work your voice is calming to him although if you special interest is something his brothers love he may direct you to them not because he doesn’t want to hear you just because you might be able to distract them for a while and will probably get a better conversation from them (but he won’t admit that part to you)

If you are non verbal will ask you what you want to communicate in diavolo meetings and will say it for you

Mammon

Guess pretty quickly that your autistic even if your good at masking because of what lucifer said before you came plus because of the witches he’s around humans engouth to pick up on that kind of stuff. Though he won’t say anything to you just in cause it makes you uncomfortable waits for you to talk to him first

If you need/want a stim toys he’s your man as he’s got a couple himself just the small ones that you can use in your pocket in class although if you need one he hasn’t got he would go out and bye you one just don’t tell anyone

Also the first one to start using tone indercators if you need them. He learnt the hard way through upsetting you one day that some of the stuff he says actually comes across as insulting and hurtful and he doesn’t want to ever do that again

If your having a melt down don’t worry your first man is on his way! you two even have a text system set up for him to nab you out of situations if you ever need it.

Even if he doesn’t like your special interest that much if there any updates on it will tell you straight away

Levi

I headcanon Levi as autistic myself so that’s what I’m going for here

Spider man meme. But for real he would be so happy there someone else like him maybe your not as much as a normie as he originally thought

Of course his special interest is TSL and now he knows your not gonna mock him when he info dumps he’s gonna try and get you into it as well so expect a lot of late night binge watching

If you got sensory problems his room is the best. If you need calming music high end stereos everywhere, to many lights it’s completely dark in here he will even turn of his glowing key bored is that’s to much, need to move your hands he has an old XBOX controller that doesn’t work but makes nice sounds when you play with the buttons , Need some visual stim henry is very cute and likes to do loops honestly the list goes on

Communication is so much easier together as you both make sure to speak in ways where it’s not so dam confusing.

“This is just like the anime the new kid from a different world is just like me and know we both helping each other in our differences while slowing becoming closer and closer friends”

Over all you both help each-other out

Satan

If you need any help masking he’s the guy to go to he’s often wonder if he’s autistic himself. But anyway he’s willing to help you if you ask him but makes it very clear that you don’t have to do it around him his brothers or even anyone in the devildom they don’t exactly care about that kind of stuff down here

If you say it’s for the human world and because of the way autistic people are treated there he is 100% ready to throw hands he finds it disgusting what people are saying and doing. Austim speaks is strangely gone the next day.

If you stim with an animal will definitely use this as a way to finally push lucifer into getting a cat for the house. Although the cat is definitely for him will often plop them down on your lap whenever he notices your boarding on a meltdown

Always makes sure what he’s feeling is clear to you as you can’t always pick up on it like his brothers can but instead of making it obvious what he’s doing to everyone you have a hand signal system

Asmo

If you can’t use face masks or certain scrubs because it overloads he will go out of his way to find ones that you can use. Got to keep your skin fresh

If you have certain textures of cloths you can’t wear he finds himself avoiding those as well so he can hug you still if that’s something you okay with

If your not okay with physical touch he will back of may take him a couple of days to remember but respects you

Also if you can’t pick up on flirting will stop doing it as much not because he doesn’t love you (romantic or platonic) but because he doesn’t want you to feel uncomfortable once you realise what he was doing unless you tell him it’s fine

Beel

If you have a same food he learns how to cook it even if the Learning process was hard and he will make some for you to share when he notices your having had a bad day

If you stim orally he has some stim toys to give you back when he first fell lucifer got him a bunch hoping it would stop him eating house from home but of course It didn’t so now he has all these unused ones laying around that he hopes you will love. he would also go out and buy you a new one in the shape of your same food

Nobody messes with a demon that is double everyones height so if mammon isn’t available beel your next best choice if you need to get out a room quickly

He’s e so strong no matter who you are he can easily pick you up and rock you if that’s what you need he does that with belpie a lot so it would be no problem on his end

Belphegore

He hasn’t been to the human world for a long time so when you explain what autism is his reaction is very much “oh humans have a name for that know” it’s called something completely different in the devildom but overall he’s very whatever about the whole thing

Though don’t get me wrong he will do everything he can to help you if you need it. A demon causing an overload it’s alright he’s just got yeeted a hundred miles

Gives you soft toys if you need them for stim he’s got thounds that he sleeps with so no skin of his back

Talking about sleeping if you need weight on you he will just lay on top of you (with permission) if you need it

He also finds your voice calming he has a video of you info dumping about something on his phone and will listen to it to go to sleep not because your boring but because he finds your voice so lovely and now he’s tired

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me belphegor #obey me beelzebub #obey me writing #I really hope this okay took so long I’m going to bed know hopefully this is still good in the morning lol

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writersrealmbts · 3 years

Text

If You Have Half a Brain

Description: Part of the summer #btswritingbingo, hosted by @bangtanwritingbingo! For the Pina Coladas prompt. You’ve been a bit down on your luck, until one of your customers, who is definitely drunk, strikes up a conversation with you and offers you a job.

Warnings: Mentions of death, drunken antics (mild), mild language, mentions of blood/injuries (very briefly)

Posted: 06/04/2021

Tags: Hoseok x reader, business au,

Slice of Life/Angst/moments of fluff: 11,698 words

A/N: I think it’s been over a month since I posted a story, so here’s over 10k words. Enjoy! Thanks to @kerikaaria for beta reading this

“Sir, you ordered a virgin.”

“Whoa, no! I didn’t even know that this was that kind of place, I mean, kudos on the confidence and I mean that in the best way because you shouldn’t be ashamed—“

“Your drink,” you interrupted, rolling your eyes. “It’s non-alcoholic. You ordered a virgin drink.”

“What? No I didn’t, I ordered a pina colada!”

“No, our menu doesn’t offer pina coladas. What you ordered was our Niño colada, which is from our non-alcoholic menu. I apologize for any inconvenience, but if this is you with a little bit of alcohol, then I think you should stick to sobriety.”

He stared at you, slack-jawed and blinking. “Why don’t you have pina coladas?”

You sighed. “We don’t stock rum.”

He made a choked sound. “The…rum…is gone?”

“Yes. The rum is gone.” You had a sinking feeling that you knew exactly what he was going to say.

“Why is the rum always gone?!” He exclaimed, flopping onto the table.

“From your behavior, I’m going to assume you’ve consumed every last drop of it, Captain Sparrow,” You replied dryly. Well, your boss was right. You were not cut out for this job. “Now, if you’re not going to order something else, I’m going to go turn in my apron and start job hunting again.”

“Wait! Wait! Do you like piña coladas?” He asked, catching the pocket of your apron.

“I swear to God, if the next words out of your mouth are anything along the lines of ‘and getting caught in the rain’ I will murder you without regret.”

His teeth clicked shut. His eyes darted over your face. “But do you?”

You took a deep breath. “I can’t stand coconut.”

“You…don’t like…coconut?” He looked horrified. “Then…coconut chicken?”

“Ew.”

“Coconut ice cream?”

“Waste of sugar and time, a lot like this conversation. I don’t like coconut. I hate it when people cook in coconut oil because saying it’s tasteless is Bull.” You crossed your arms. “New drink or what?”

He stared at you for a while, then smiled softly. “You’re too good for this job, anyway. You should work for me.”

“Excuse me?”

“Come work for me.”

“Repeating that doesn’t tell me what you’re saying.”

“I own a company. I need someone who can deal with trash like me and keep them away from me. You do not have to be polite to the trash either.” He leaned his chin on a propped-up fist. “Your job would quite honestly be saying what was on your mind and telling me and anyone else off.” He looked and sounded surprisingly sober compared to before.

“Please tell me you didn’t use piña coladas to test a potential hire.”

He grinned. “Not intentionally.”

I folded your arms, trying to gauge whether or not he was being serious. “You’re not saying this because you’re drunk, are you?”

“I’m not drunk!” He argued, eyes wide. “I’ve only had one glass of wine!”

You cringed. “At least tell me it was a large one.”

“N-not particularly.”

“Oh dude, either your acting is pretty on point, or you’re a serious lightweight and should stick to the non-alcoholic menu.” You shook your head.

His already flushed cheeks turned more red. “Wha—“ he huffed. “Do you want the job or not?”

You considered it, a little surprised you were even considering it, and shrugged. “Not sure I believe you still.”

He huffed and fumbled to pull out his wallet, fumbled more, then handed you a business card. “That’s me. Call or show up or anything. My personal cards are like golden tickets.”

You took the card warily.

The side of the cards facing you had a phone number in shimmering gold lettering, and the other side looked like a splash of summer colors—Bold black lettering spelling out his name and the name of the company.

“Hoseok Jung, CEO of HopeWorld Incorporated,” you read aloud, a little…skeptical. “If you are this person, what the heck do you want me for?”

“Honestly…I need someone sensible who won’t just try to stay on my good side. I need someone who will risk their job to threaten anyone that is being ridiculous with murder. I’m bad at that. I need a spiky person cause I’m just…I have things I’m strong on, but there are times when I just need someone to say things like they are. No bull.”

“And based on our interactions here, you think that’s me?”

He nodded. “I only played up the antics a bit.”

“Do you often hire your waitresses?”

He grinned. “No, but I have found most of my best people by chance. One other waiter, but I knew him before.”

“Your best people?”

“You’ve heard of my company?”

“Who hasn’t?”

“Then you’ve heard the names Suga, RM, and V.”

You paused. “Yes.”

“Suga and I met at a club. RM and I met in a museum, and I met V when I was at an animal shelter.” He shrugged. “We had a good rapport. I offered them jobs. My friends over there are also part of my inner circle. It would have been better if you liked piña coladas, but you should still be okay with them.”

You stared over to where his friends were goofing off in the pool. Those idiot men were part of the inner circle of one of the biggest companies ever? The company that….

Two screeched as they went into the water, losing the game of chicken.

“They are part of your brain trust? Is the one even old enough for alcohol?”

“Yeah, he just tends to pick people up when he’s buzzed.”

“So, scandal prone.”

“No, no, I mean physically lift them. Usually just us. He’s not really a social person. Just us.”

“Ah.” You weren’t sure what to make of that.

“Actually—“

“Y/n! I’m not paying you to stand around!”

“With all due respect, sir, I’m done after I finish discussing our menu with this gentleman, Sir.” You called back, then turned to Hoseok. “How much would I be paid?”

“To start...how about $16 an hour?”

You stared at him. “$16 an hour?”

“Plus benefits, we have an excellent benefits program.”

“$16 an hour?” You repeated, a little shocked and numb. Plus benefits, even if you only worked there for a week, you’d be able to cover all of your expenses.

“Alright, okay, fine, $18 an hour—but no more than that until we know if it will work out. Then we can discuss raises. Deal?” He stuck his hand out.

You considered it for a moment, then shook his hand. “Right. Okay. When do I start?”

“Tomorrow, 8 a.m.”

You nodded. “Business dress?”

He shrugged, “If you like. Just dress nicely.”

You nodded. “Fine. Okay. See you then. I have a job to quit.”

He nodded with a smile. “I look forward to working with you.”

———

If you had thought that your means of obtaining this job had been strange, nothing had prepared you for your first day working there.

You had dressed well, wearing your favorite interview outfit because it was the nicest outfit you owned and you would be shopping later today so you knew what you needed to buy.

You entered the sleek looking building, and went to the reception desk. “Hello, I was told to come in today.” You pulled out the business card and showed it to the secretary.

Her eyes widened. “Whoa. You met Mr. Jung?”

“Uhm, yes. Yes I did. And he told me to come in today, at eight.”

“Right, okay, um, let me get you a temporary I.D.so you can get around today, and you’ll have to talk to H.R. later about your permanent one. Take this, and then head up to the top floor, he’ll want you to report straight to his office. At least, that’s what protocol states.”

You nodded, absorbing the information easily. “Top floor, his office, report to HR later for a permanent ID. Return this at the end of the day?”

“Yes, thank you, and good luck on your first day!” She practically sang, going back to her computer.

You slid the ID necklace over your head and went straight for the elevator, hitting the button for the top floor.

The way she spoke was almost like she had never met the CEO, which seemed unlikely to you, but maybe you were just misreading it.

The top floor was as quiet as the rest of the building, and you had a feeling most employees didn’t start until 9. But there was faint music coming from the biggest office—the CEO’s office.

You took a breath to steady yourself and then knocked on the door.

“Come on in, y/n!”

You shook your head slightly and did as told, walking into the office.

Entering the building, you had been pleasantly surprised by the way everything seemed light and airy, with bright splashes of color in appropriate amounts in the appropriate places, making it feel less like an office and more of a...you weren’t sure what it felt like, but it felt nicer than an office.

Entering Hoseok Jung’s office had a similar effect. There were knickknacks, but they weren’t overwhelming, and splashes of color were all throughout the room, but was balanced by a sort of modern elegance of his sleek office furniture and the immense natural lighting.

“Do you like it?”

You considered it all. “It’s not to my taste, but it is well balanced and I can appreciate the aesthetic.”

He grinned. “See, you’re already doing better.”

“The receptionist acts like she’s never seen you before.”

“Oh, well, most people only see J-Hope, one of the senior workers who reports directly to Mr. Jung. That’s how I got into the business to take it over from my father.” He shrugged. “Eventually, they’ll find out that J-Hope is me, but for now, J-Hope is well-liked. My ‘brain trust’ as you called them, will be here in about half an hour, which gives us time. Come on, I’ll show you to your office. Remember, it’s not your job to make friends, it’s your job to call things as you see them.”

You shrugged. “And if that means holding my tongue?”

“Then I trust you to say something later, when you deem the time to be right.”

“You know this is crazy, right?”

He grinned. “I know that you think it’s crazy, but I’m glad you’re telling me.”

You shook your head as you followed him out, noting that he wasn’t wearing a full suit. More like slacks and a shirt that wasn’t a button-up, but also wasn’t a plain t-shirt? Very loose-fitting, possibly a few sizes too big. His slacks weren't even slack, not really. Just grey, loose-fitting pants.

“You don’t dress much like a CEO.”

He chuckled. “I know. Jimin tells me that all the time, trust me, I do when I have to. But J-Hope likes loose clothing.”

You shook your head a bit.

“This will be your office.”

“It’s right next to yours.”

“Well, you are going to be my left-hand person. Left hand office.”

You followed him into the office that was way too good to be true.

“Obviously you can decorate it as you like, outside of the desk. The desk chair you get to choose from a magazine that we use for office supplies. We also ask that you don’t break any walls or windows.”

“I have a balcony,” you breathed.

“Yeah. There’s actually a door out there that connects our balconies, my side is pretty much never locked, but you can lock your side as well.”

“Like in hotels.”

“Yes.”

“So, if I'm your left, who’s your right?”

“Suga. Yoongi. You’ll like him, I think.” He picked up a random sticky note, looking amused. “Last guy didn’t clean out very well, sorry.”

“Shouldn’t a janitor have made it in here since?”

He paused. “Oh. Yes.”

“Which makes me wonder when the last time anything up here has been cleaned.” You ran a finger over the desk, nose wrinkling in disgust at the dust on your fingers.

Hoseok’s eyes widened. “Oh no. Oh no no no.”

“I need to wash my hands,” You said, feeling a little contaminated. “Bathrooms.”

“This way.”

The bathrooms on the top floor were actual bathrooms, as in, one toilet and sink per room instead of the public bathroom style. There were three of them, mostly the same size, but one also had a larger vanity area with drawers under it.

“Oh, sorry, didn’t mean to follow you in, but this bathroom is one that we usually keep locked, so if you want to keep makeup or other things in here, no one uses the third drawer over right now.” He tapped it. “You’ll be getting a key to it later today, so you can put it in later if you need to.”

You nodded, wrinkling your nose at the smell of the soap. “Oh, you’re kidding me. Piña colada soap?”

He chuckled, scratching his neck. “You can also bring in your own soap. Yoongi does. He just hasn’t replaced his yet.”

You shook your head. “Right.”

“If it helps, it’s only that during the summer.”

“What is it in winter? Eggnog?”

He shook his head. “Cinnamon rolls.”

“Are you all trying to psychologically torture yourselves?” You asked, drying your hands. “Piña coladas when you have to work, cinnamon rolls to make yourself hungry….”

Hoseok shrugged.

You sighed. “Alright. Where to now?”

“Morning meeting.” He waved for you to follow him, and led the way down to a conference room. “Jimin and Tae bring coffee and pastries and we go over our agendas and projects. Today that will include introducing you. I do have one thing to ask, and it might be inappropriate so if it is you can just hit me—“

“Or you could just not ask it.”

He hesitated, then nodded. “Right. Yeah.”

You helped straighten the chairs, seeing the frown on his face at how disheveled the room was. “So, what will I be doing today, besides accompanying you to fire the janitor.”

He cringed. “Well, tour the company. Stop by HR. Meet the security team. Talk to the janitorial staff and threaten firing them to improve their work ethic. Then if that doesn’t work, yes, you will be there to help me fire people.”

“Sounds good. I’ll be the bad guy. You keep your J-Hope persona.” You sighed. “Really? No one caught onto you being the CEO with the name J-Hope?”

He just grinned again. “Best disguise is right under your nose.”

“The best disguise is an effective one that actually exists.”

“I’m glad I met you,” He responded with a light laugh.

“I’ve been criticizing you since I arrived.” You actually felt guilty about that, but only slightly. You weren’t about to lose sleep over it.

He just smiled. “You’ve been honest. I…I really missed honesty.”

“Your inner circle aren’t honest?”

“They are…but they’re…it’s different. Sometimes you need to shake things up. I think we all need shaking up.”

You frowned. “Okay. Level with me: what happened?”

He frowned. “What do you mean?”

“What happened to make you think that things need to be shaken up?”

His face relaxed, eyes seeming to glaze as they shifted to the meeting table. “I…uh, I lost someone I cared about. You know that cruise ship disaster?”

You nodded. “HopeWorld donated a whole lot of money to cover the bills of those injured, and help cover funeral bills for others. Some people wondered if you guys had some sort of stock in the cruise ship or had been involved in the explosion, but you were just being kind. Plus by helping them out financially they could stand up to the cruise company.”

He shrugged, but also nodded. “And I needed a reason to be there. Looking.”

“Girlfriend or boyfriend?”

He choked out a laugh. “Yeah. And my sister and her husband. And my parents. I was supposed to join them at a different port.”

You felt like you’d been sucker-punched. “Oh my God.”

“Didn’t lose all of them. My dad is still in the hospital, Mom is home but she visits him everyday.” He rubbed his neck. “My sister's husband went back to work just a week ago, and he’s not having an easy time of it, but he’s pushing on. My sister hasn’t woken up yet, but we’re still hopeful. I hope she wakes up soon. She’s the other person I always relied on to be honest with me.”

You slowly nodded. “And your…significant other?”

“Idiot died. One of the lifeboats got stuck on release. Climbed out and cut the rope. Snapped back.” He shrugged again.

“Could have been worse,” You murmured, clenching a fist. You knew that description. You gave that description.

“Ok, this is one time when maybe you shouldn’t be honest.” He rubbed his forehead.

“Hey, my step-dad died because he thought he could swallow a golf ball and decided to try when no one was home. My younger brother tail-gated a semi. My father died from a sliver after saving eight school-age children.” You shrugged. “There are all sorts of ways to go out of this world. Doing the right thing…the heroic thing, that counts for a lot in my book. But there is such a thing as stupidly heroic.”

He stared at you wide-eyed. “A…golf ball?”

You shrugged. “I believe I implied that he wasn’t intelligent.”

Hoseok snorted and then started laughing. “I-I’m sorry!”

You smiled. “Good. Your brain trust will be here soon.”

“Did he…did he really…?”

“It was a little more complicated, and there was booze involved, but essentially, yes.”

“That’s terrible.”

“Yeah.”

“Don’t sound so heartbroken.”

You shrugged. “Life goes on.”

“What does it go on from?” A new voice asked.

You turned to see one of the boys from the pool yesterday.

He looked you up and down, and offered a slight smile and his hand. “Hey. You must be the waitress that Hobi got so excited about hiring yesterday. I’m Taehyung, or, as the media knows me, V.”

You shook his hand. “Y/n. Nice to meet you.”

“Do you like Pina Coladas?” Taehyung asked, setting the box of what you assumed were pastries on the table.

“No.”

He froze a bit. “Really?”

“Really.”

“But...why? Wait...oh no...you don’t like them?” He stared at the box of pastries.

You looked at the box. “Let me guess, non-alcoholic pina colada donuts.”

“We don’t normally get them, I just saw them and I thought it’d be fun….” He looked completely dejected. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay. I ate breakfast anyway. I had an omelet, and I have a chocolate muffin in my packed lunch in my office. So, if you would like, I can get that and you can pretend you got it specially for me because I got it from the same shop.”

He gasped. “Their chocolate muffins are amazing.”

“Do you want me to pretend?”

He considered it a moment.

“He doesn’t want everyone to be eating and not you,” Hoseok chuckled. “He’s sweet like that.”

You nodded. “Did the door to my office get locked?”

Hoseok shook his head. “I left it open so that you could get in and out without your keys, and so we could send a janitor in after the meeting. Maybe put your things in our breakroom for now.”

You nodded sharply.

“I’ll get it, if that’s okay with you?” Taehyung said.

You shrugged. “Whatever floats your boat.”

He bounced a bit as he raced out.

“Good job, offering to lie on your first day.” Hoseok looked amused.

“He looked like a kicked puppy. I’m honest, not abusive and heartless. Besides, it’s more to make him feel good. Most people would figure it out, right away.”

Hoseok nodded. “I guess so.”

“It doesn’t breach my not-yet-existing contract to lie, does it?”

He shook his head. “No. It doesn’t.”

Both of you fell quiet as Taehyung came back and slipped the muffin into the box of donuts (carefully).

Then several men arrived at about the same time.

“Hi, y/n! I’m Jimin, and I wasn’t sure what you liked so I got you a chocolate crème frappuccino. Is that okay?”

You nodded, smiling. “Sounds good. Thank you.” You took the cup and studied where they were sitting before taking a seat yourself--at the left hand of Hoseok--when he indicated for you to sit there.

“For the future, what do you normally drink?”

“This,” You answered, smiling. “I try to limit my caffeine intake.”

“Great, I’ll add it to my list and we can discuss alternatives later.” Jimin opened the donut box. “Tae, what have you done?”

“Pina colada donuts,” Tae answered, grinning. “And a muffin for y/n.”

Half of the boys had already grabbed a donut, or were in the process of doing so, but all seemed to freeze a bit.

“Why a muffin for y/n?”

“I don’t like coconut,” You answered, shrugging.

“Wait...at all?” One of them asked, eyes wide.

You sighed. “Nope. That is possible, you know. Just like I’m sure the odds are in my favor that at least one of you doesn’t like seafood. One of you probably doesn’t like coffee, one of you probably doesn’t like tea, and a few of you probably don’t like mint ice-cream.”

They all seemed to be surprised and yet also guilty.

“Well….”

One huffed. “Why did you hire her again? She doesn’t even like pina coladas.”

“Not everyone does,” Hoseok replied easily. “Shall we start our morning download?”

You studied the others as they dug into their donuts, wondering where the odd obsession with pina coladas came from--not for the first time. But they weren’t the only people you’d ever met with the obsession, and you doubted they would be the last.

“Besides, it can’t hurt us to look at things other than pina coladas.”

“Please,” One of them grumbled. “I don’t want to get sick of them.”

“Fine. Then let me ask this,” the huffy one asked. “Y/n, what is your beverage of choice?”

You met his gaze evenly, calculating all of the answers he could expect and all of the answers you could give him. But one stuck out as particularly perturbing for someone like him and a situation like this.

You leaned forward, smiled slightly, and answered, “Water.”

His eyes widened and he spluttered. “Water?”

“Water,” You confirmed cheerfully. “If I have to choose anything, I choose water.”

“Great, you can be the designated driver,” Taehyung joked, amusement sparkling in his eyes.

Huffy sat down, looking like he lost five years off of his life. “No way can we do a water theme….”

“If we could get back to what we’re being paid to be here for, that’d be great,” You said, in a tone that was too sweet to be honest.

Hoseok chuckled a little. “Right. Y/n is here to keep things...possible and practical. Her job is to be bluntly and brutally honest about things. After she gets a feel for this place, I’m sure she’ll feel more comfortable giving us all a piece of her mind. She’ll be shadowing me as J-Hope, and I’m not going to announce her job title for a while.”

“Because you don’t know what to call my job?”

“Pretty much. Anyway, as you guys know, we’re...running a little thin right now, and that’s on me. We’re going to be tightening up the ship, and making sure we’re running properly. Jimin, I need finances from across the company. Tae, I need all of the reports from HR. Jin and Jungkook, I want a list and summary of all of the projects we’re working on right now. Yoongi and Namjoon: keep working on that one project. Anything I need to know right now?”

“We have that event tomorrow, with the food trucks, and we need to decide on the judges.”

“Okay, so, we let everyone who wants to judge put their name on a list, then we’ll draw names from a hat. Jimin’s on the judgement panel as well.”

“I am?”

“You’ll eat anything, the rest of us are too picky. And Jungkook will be filming.” Hoseok made a couple of notes. “I have to talk to our janitorial staff, and y/n will be with me. They haven’t been cleaning up here like they’re supposed to. Y/n’s office was disgusting, and this room was a mess.”

“Uh oh. Firing anyone?”

“He wants to see if talking to them will fix the issue first,” You said dryly. “Which, in my experience, is a waste of time. There’s always someone dragging their feet and I bet if we looked through the HR reports, or even sent me in under cover for a few hours, we’d be able to pinpoint the weak link and remove it from the chain.”

“She’s got a point. I could take her down and tell them she’s doing some work in each department. We’ve done that before, for people who were actually working for one of the departments.” Jimin clicked his pen a couple of times.

Hoseok considered it a moment while he worked on a bite of his donut, then nodded. “Alright. Then we’ll do that. You might need different clothing. If it takes more than a couple of hours, don’t worry about it. If this works, we’ll put you in different departments as though you were experiencing everything. Because I think we need a spy in the HR department as well. Plus anything you find about employee welfare and happiness, that’s always a good thing. We’ll say you’re one of Jimin’s random hires. Get it done.”

Jimin nodded, then checked you over. “They’ll give her a uniform, so we don’t need to worry about her clothing. Maybe just fix your hair so that you look more like ‘random girl’ instead of ‘sophisticated lady’.”

“Did you just call me a lady?”

“Have you seen yourself?” Jimin shrugged.

“Anyway, finish things here, then y/n dress down and we’ll discuss your work later today. You’ll eat lunch with us, Jimin, make sure to mention that.” Hoseok wrote a couple more things down. “I’ll be in my office, reviewing things. I’ll let you know at lunch what the real plan is. We’re gonna change things.”

“Okay,” Huffy said firmly. “That’s that then. Donuts done, coffee drunk, work to do. Off we go. The sooner we work, the sooner we finish, the sooner we can get a drink.”

That seemed to be the signal for everyone to get up and get moving.

You followed Jimin out, letting him lead you to the bathroom. “Sophisticated lady?”

“Make your hair more casual, maybe remove some of your makeup. And lose the jacket.”

You sighed and did as you were told as he disappeared for a moment, returning with a different shirt and a sweater.

“Try these.”

You looked at them, a little concerned.

“They’re clean, trust me. And they’re more casual than what you’re wearing.”

You waved him out of the room again, changing into the new shirt and sweater, a little disturbed at how well they fit. “Where did you get these?” You asked, opening the door again.

“Someone left them behind. Can’t remember when, can’t remember who, just remember they didn’t work here.” He checked his own hair while you switched your hair from a bun to a nice-looking pony-tail. “Can’t even remember why her shirt and sweater were left behind. Think she borrowed one of mine?”

You stared at him. “Did you sleep with this girl?”

He turned back to you with a half-smile. “No. I was drunk, but no. My boyfriend at that time wouldn’t have been too thrilled.”

“Do you have baggage about said boyfriend as your friend does about the significant other that he lost?” You asked, studying the impish man in front of you.

Jimin’s smile died a bit. “Told you about that, did he?”

“More or less. Focused more on the ones that survived rather than the one that died. So, baggage: yes or no?”

Jimin came and stood right in front of you, then moved closer, reaching and closing the bathroom door, locking it.

You clenched a fist, just in case.

“Baggage...yes. Same ship. All of us, the whole board, everyone in there. My boyfriend...we were at the point of breaking up anyway, so I feel guilty about that, because he wouldn’t have been there if I had. Hoseok was going to propose. Namjoon’s childhood friend. Yoongi’s girlfriend was paralyzed, and her brain...she only recognizes her family and she’s...not doing well. Two of Taehyung’s friends. Jungkook’s brother. Seokjin’s whole family, except his nephew. He jokes about drinking, but he really just wants to get to the daycare at a decent time. If he knows he has to stay late, he has a babysitter that brings his nephew here. Hoseok feels a lot of responsibility because he was the one who suggested we have a board retreat and invite family and friends. Seokjin, Taehyung, Namjoon, and Jungkook were all there when it happened. Myself, Yoongi, and Hoseok were delayed because of an emergency on a project we were heading up.”

You nodded slowly. “Got it. So, this company is being run by seven people who have undergone a whole lot of trauma and grief in the past six months. That doesn’t sound at all like a recipe for disaster.” Eight, a little voice whispered, eight if you’re included.

Jimin nodded a bit. “Right. What did you lose in that accident?”

You held his gaze steadily. “The will to please others with false actions and honeyed words.”

Jimin’s head tilted slightly and his eyes narrowed just a bit.

“My older brother worked on that ship, one of the engineers. He’d been filing reports like a good little worker bee about some of the issues they were seeing, but the reports were being ignored. He was threatened, and told to keep quiet if he wanted to keep his job. He told me, I told him to fight, to make sure no one got on that damn ship.”

“But he didn’t,” Jimin whispered, gaze shifting away from you.

“But I gave the people suing that company everything they needed to win their case, especially with HopeWorld providing the financial means for everyone to fight. It was serious neglect on their part, but even I was too pliant to do anything about it. So I’m done. I’m done trying to please others and put up with their crap and if you don’t unlock that door, I’m sorry, but I might punch you.”

He unlocked it. “Right. Sorry.”

“I’ve been dealing with too many thugs from the cruise company. That’s why I was job hunting. That’s why I got that job at the bar. It was a favor that a friend called in from the owner, but they both thought I was a bad fit. I was just desperate. And then Hoseok came in drunk on one glass of wine and complaining about a virgin pina colada.”

“That’s why he wouldn’t stop talking about virgins,” Jimin muttered. “He kept saying something about virgins being confident, and that he wished he was that confident, and that he was joking about not ordering virgins and it was all weird.”

“He should not be allowed to drink.”

“Well, normally he’s a sober and sleepy drunk, so, yesterday was a bit of an outlier. Happiest I’d seen him in a while, though. Especially after he met you.” He was studying you again.

“If you have something to say, then say it. I told you, I’m not waiting around for BS.”

“You’re not like the person he lost, I can tell that right away. But you’re the first person he’s shown...interest in. I guess I’m just curious about what he saw that intrigued him so much.”

“My winning personality and barbed words,” You answered, then grabbed your wallet from your purse and tucked it into your pocket, shoving the purse into the empty drawer that Hoseok had pointed out earlier. “What was the person he lost like?”

“Soft, a little...out-there, artistic, wild dreamer, adventurous, spontaneous,” Jimin listed, then shrugged. “Different.”

You paused to look at Jimin again. “When you said he’s taken an interest in me, did you mean….”

“Possibly romantically. Not definite, but there’s always a few different paths interest in other people can take us, isn’t there. If you’re anything like I’m assuming you are, you’d actually be a good match for him.” Jimin walked out. “Now, come on. We’ve got work to do.”

-----

You were undercover in HopeWorld for a week before you finally were able to return and start moving into your office--having turned in a twenty-page report on your findings while working undercover.

And it was spotlessly clean this time, and there was a computer there. It was even sporting a nice, new plant in the one corner with a card that read it was from all of the other board members.

The winky-face said that Taehyung had been in charge of delivering it and writing the note.

So you set to unpacking the small box of office supplies that you were bringing in.

You were getting a corkboard and a whiteboard later, plus two more chairs so that anyone else in your office could sit down (or you could switch seats through the day if you needed to), and you definitely planned on bringing some more plants here since it got more sunlight than your tiny flat did.

So you unpacked a couple of empty binders, sheafs of paper, a few notebooks, your new pens and pencils, and your pen and pencil holders. You set a photo-frame on your desk. You pulled out a bottle of lotion and put it in one of your desk drawers.

And that’s where you found the photo of Hoseok with the person that had to be his lover.

“Of course,” You murmured, sighing, then you set the photo aside to return to him at your meeting later.

In the past week, you’d gotten a pretty good read on most of the boys, even Yoongi.

But Seokjin was distant, and kept you distant. He didn’t stick around on the days you were in what was technically his department, instead finding an excuse to be elsewhere.

Taehyung and Jimin had both shrugged when you told them that Seokjin was avoiding you.

“Don’t see why he would,” Jimin said, and you knew he was being honest.

It was fine. The boys weren’t your job anyway. Your job was to look at things practically, find problems or potential problems, and present them to people who could fix them. Your job was to question everything so that every eventuality is considered and the best product of the workers' time is produced.

“That’s not a very big box for such a big office.”

You jumped and dropped the stapler, but jumped back so that it wouldn’t staple you on accident (something that had, unfortunately, happened before). “You trying to give me a heart attack?”

Seokjin shrugged, strolling in casually and picking it up. “Not my intention.”

“Then what is your intention?” You asked, wondering what could have brought the illusive man to your office before the morning meeting. According to the others, and your own experiences, he was always just barely on time for the meeting.

He just looked at you carefully. “Can I ask you a question, and get an honest answer?”

“Fire away,” You replied, lifting an eyebrow curiously.

He moved closer so he was looking you in the eye. “Why did you take this job?”

You frowned a bit, stepping back and trying to figure out why he was asking that. But also, how to answer.

“Please answer honestly.”

“Jimin told you about my brother, the cruise ship?”

“Yes. He told all of us, Hoseok too. Hoseok had his suspicions. I don’t think they know that you were on the ship as well.”

You huffed out a laugh and leaned against your desk. “Good. I don’t need any of that nonsense.”

He nodded. “You were answering my question.”

You took a deep breath and then released it, looking at the ceiling. “Desperation. Have to pay the rent. And he seemed...optimistic.” There was something appealing to that optimism. Something familiar and comfortable. Refreshing.

“What did he tell you your job was going to be?”

“Dealing with trash that tried to get near him.”

“What’s on your resume?”

“Nothing to make me qualify for this office. And if you think I’m here because I’m taking advantage of his kindness...I can’t say that you’re wrong, but I’m also just curious about what he intends for me. Don’t think that I enjoy saying that someone is dead weight. They’re people, and they need to make a living somehow, but they need to make that living honestly. THere are people who want jobs, who need jobs, who are actually willing to put in the work.”

“So, going undercover…?”

“It was a solution that would alleviate the feelings of guilt that our boss might have felt if we hadn’t fully investigated and ended up firing someone. Besides, he strikes me as a bit of a neat freak, so I figure the janitorial staff should be top-notch. I did hear a rumor that J-Hope had liberated a cleaning cart and taken it to the top floor, though.”

Jin sighed, shaking his head. “He really hasn’t trusted the cleaning staff since your first day.”

“Lovely. Did he clean this office?”

“Gotta admire his work ethic.”

You shook your head. “So, I’m not the only person who’s almost completely in the dark about what my job actually is, am I?”

“I think he keeps rethinking what he wants for you.”

“And you’ve been avoiding me because…?”

He shrugged a bit. “I haven’t. It’s been a bad week for my nephew. I’ve been in and out of the office all week. Plus I’ve been working with Hobi.”

You both jumped as someone banged on your office door.

Hoseok threw it open with a grin, then halted, surprised. “Oh, hyung.”

“Hey, Hoseok-y. Y/n and I were just talking. I’ll leave you two to discuss y/n’s job. Because I think we’re all confused about it.” Seokjin took one of your paperclips and left.

Hoseok looked after him in confusion. “Did he ask if he could take that paperclip?”

“Um, no, but it’s just a paperclip. You read the report?”

He nodded. “Yeah. Good work on that. Sorry you were thrown into it so soon after starting.”

“You mean my first day.”

He chuckled. “Yeah. Your first day. So, I’ve figured out what your story is going to be.”

“My story?”

“Whenever a higher-up is brought in, they’re presented to the company. There are already rumors about a higher-up being brought into Mr. Jung’s board, and it’s extremely unorthodox for us to not present you within the first two weeks. So, we’ve got a couple days leeway to get you settled into your actual job.”

“I’m pretty sure that was part of my actual job.”

“Right. Anyway, I thought we might tell people that you’re the eyes and ears of Mr. Jung, and that one of your jobs is ensuring that we are at top potential.”

“Ok.”

“Which is basically what we already said, but I want to make it clear that you are in direct communication with HR and all reports go to you at the end of the day. I’m just having trouble coming up with your title.”

“Quality manager?”

He paused. “Ok, you’re really good. How have you not worked in a job like this before?”

“Hard times, big sacrifices. So, if I’m understanding things correctly, you want me to look through the reports on behaviors and such and make sure they’re looked into and that we’re paying attention, but also you want me to check in on projects and make sure we’re asking all the right questions.”

“Exactly. Quality manager is an excellent way of describing that job. But also, your job is to keep people from trying to see Mr. Jung. Mr. Jung has enough on his plate.”

You nodded. “I can do that. Shall we practice? I read through the notes on that memory core device.”

He grinned. “Sounds great. But first, the morning meeting.”

You nodded. “Thank you for cleaning my office, by the way.”

He just smiled back. “I can’t stand messes.”

“I gathered. You’ve got a pretty big one downstairs, though.”

“Yeah, I’m kind of dreading firing people though.”

“Then let me handle it. You can be there as a known authoritative figure and I’ll do the talking.”

“They might get mad at you for spying.”

“Then I trust you to handle their subsequent anger appropriately. I’ll try to keep things professional.”

“Thanks.”

“For?”

“Even offering to do any of this. I wasn’t really ready to take on the boss position. But I can’t sit by while people abuse their place in this company. I have to deal with the messes. My family didn’t build this legacy for me to let it fall apart.” His gaze was darker, but held determination to continue forward. A sternness to see things through.

The side of J-Hope that was the CEO of HopeWorld.

“I think once you get over the first trials you’ll be just fine.”

He looked at you in surprise. “You think?”

“I believe,” you amended. “I believe you are capable of being a great leader. I believe even though you are generous and compassionate, you will be able to handle the harder parts of this job for the good of the many employees who are doing their jobs to the best of their ability. Because that’s what it means when people are fired. The waste they accumulate is returned to the company and those that are still with it can benefit, or others who need the job take it and actually accomplish it. You’re improving efficiency, which makes the company prosper so you can do more for your employees.”

He slowly nodded. “That makes sense.”

You nodded. “Look at me: I could actually afford a new work outfit.”

He grinned, looking you over. “And it’s a great outfit.”

Okay. You hadn’t expected that.

“Are you implying something inappropriate?”

“Never. I just think it’s a very appropriate look and that it is very good at accentuating your good looks. You’re very good at shopping.”

You weren’t. Not really. Taehyung and Jimin had tagged along and helped you shop because you weren’t sure what would be best for the job and position. You had picked the items out, but Jimin and Taehyung had helped you style them together and decide on them.

“Sounds inappropriate to me.”

He chuckled. “Can’t you just take the compliment? It’s early.”

“If you compliment me, people might think that you’re showing favoritism.”

“Let them,” He answered easily, shrugging and holding the door open for you.

“Are you drunk again? I told you, you really shouldn’t drink.” You folded your arms.

He just laughed. “In. We’re late.”

“If we are, it’s your fault,” You replied, walking in and waving to the other men.

“Yes, of course. I wouldn’t dream of blaming you. Morning, everyone.” Hoseok took his seat. “What’s the day look like?”

“Same as yesterday, except whatever you and y/n are up to. My project is almost ready to present, Seokjin’s coming to help me today.”

“I do have my nephew today, he’s having a bad day,” Seokjin said quietly, making notes.

“That’s fine,” Hoseok said firmly, Namjoon merely nodding. “People like seeing him, and we’ve always said that kids are welcome as long as they don’t disturb others.”

“And he can come to my office anytime,” Taehyung said with a fond grin.

Seokjin nodded. “I have a meeting with my division just before lunch?”

Taehyung grinned. “We can color!”

Jimin rolled his eyes. “Work, Taehyung. He can color, you can design.”

“Right. Right. That.”

“I need Yoongi-hyung’s help on the memory-core project.”

Hoseok looked mildly intrigued, glancing at you.

“I can head down after I check on my project. Might be an hour or so.” Yoongi checked his watch.

Hoseok nodded. “And we’ll be there in about two hours so that Y/n can look things over as my second set of eyes.”

Jungkook looked like a deer caught in the headlights. “O-oh, o-o-okay.”

The others looked mildly surprised, but quickly moved on.

“I’ll be on phone meetings to organize that event most of the morning. Our employees really enjoyed the food truck war, and it’s summer, so I think it’s best to try and have enjoyable events as frequently as possible during the weeks we can’t give them 3-day weekends.” Jimin twirled his pen as he spoke, looking over something on his planner.

“I’ll leave it in your hands, just don’t go over budget.” Hoseok jotted a few things down. “Okay. Y/n and I have to deal with some unsatisfactory employees, then we’ll be down to see how things are going with the memory core. Not sure about our afternoon, but I might leave that for her to settle in. How does that sound to you?”

“If ‘settle in’ means looking over reports, then that sounds fine.”

He nodded, flipping his book closed. “Alright. Then off we go.”

You got up and followed him out, and into the elevator.

“It’ll be best to go to them since it would draw a lot of attention to bring them up. We need the head of janitorial service with us as well, and I want to apprise her of what’s going to happen before we do it. You were smart to record the conversation, I’ll present that to Chiseul.”

Chiseul had been in charge of sanitation at the company for eight years, she was kind, but firm and had no patience for slacking. When you’d worked under her, even for a day, you could tell she expected the best. She had put who she thought were her best people in charge of cleaning the top floor, but instead they had been doing very basic cleaning and actually stealing from the company.

Her reaction to finding out was silent fury. “Are you sure you don’t want me to fire them?”

“We believe that it’s best for us to handle it, that way others will know that they can’t pull anything. I’m sorry we deceived you,” You said respectfully, because you did respect her. You’d put in your report that she should get a raise.

Hoseok nodded. “We will be implementing a system to keep people accountable soon.”

She accepted that with a sharp nod and then went to call those who would be fired into her office.

Hoseok groaned as soon as the elevator doors closed. “That could have gone better.”

------

You held the ice to your face and shrugged. “Could have gone worse. Security stepped in at the appropriate time. And I didn’t fight back, which means I can’t be charged with assault should they try anything like that. There were also multiple witnesses.”

“But you got hurt,” He argued, rubbing his face. “You got hurt.”

“So, I’ll have a black eye. I walk to work, so it’s not like I’ll be driving while mildly impaired. We got ice on it pretty quickly, and I don’t think it will end up being too bad of a black eye.”

“You got hurt,” He whispered.

“And I’m fine. Hoseok, we’re on our way to look over a major project in your company. Pull yourself together.” You reached over and straightened his collar. “It’s a bruise, not a fatal wound.”

He caught your wrist, holding you in place so he could move the ice pack with his other hand and see, the whole time his expression holding worry and what might have been nausea. “Why would they attack you? I was there too. Why would they only attack you?”

He wasn’t asking. He wasn’t listening.

“Betrayal,” You answered anyway, sighing a little and forcing the ice-pack back to your face.

“Uh, you two coming out of there or do you need another moment?” Yoongi asked, an eyebrow raised as he looked between you, not seeming to care that he’d startled both of you since you’d been too busy looking at one another to realize the elevator was open. But his gaze stuck on the ice pack. “Shit, they hit you?”

“Don’t you start too,” You groaned, exiting the elevator.

Hoseok stopped you, pulling you back so he could look at your eye again. “Hyung, look at her eye.”

Yoongi frowned a bit more, but complied. His eyes widened a bit. “Uh…infirmary.”

“Thought so.” Hoseok pulled you back into the elevator.

“Oh, come on,” You groaned.

Yoongi just shushed you. “Your eye looks bloody.”

“Oh.” Well, that was special. It didn’t especially hurt, but that might be because you were numbing the area.

But Hoseok ended up taking you to the hospital for evaluation.

As the two of you walked out of the hospital, you sighed for the fortieth time. “Told you I was fine.”

“That’s not what he said.”

“He said that I should be fine and to come back in if my eye gets worse or I start having other issues. It was probably her ring that got me.” You glanced at your watch. “Man, I’m not going to experience a regular workday, am I?”

His head dropped. “Sorry.”

“Not your fault. I’d probably get bored if it got too quiet. And feeling sorry doesn’t do any good. You didn’t hurt me, so you’re wasting energy by being sorry.”

“I know, but I got you into this job—“

“Are you thirsty?” You asked, stopping.

“What?”

“Are you thirsty?” You asked slowly.

“Um, I guess?”

You nodded and pulled him into the restaurant, dragging him to the bar.

“I don’t think you should have alcohol—“

“Hi, can I get a water with lemon and a Piña colada?” You asked the bartender, ignoring Hoseok. You had no intention of drinking, but Hoseok was so tense it was making you tense.

He stared at the piña colada. “What?”

“Drink. You’re driving me crazy. You need to relax and I doubt you’re going to do it on your own. I’ll make sure you don’t end up in a back alley.” You patted his hand.

“So…if you could drink, what would it be?” He asked.

“Probably a gimlet, with extra lime. But like I said, my preferred drink is water. I like to keep my head clear. There’s less golf-ball swallowing.”

He snorted and choked on his second sip of his drink.

You patted his back as he tried to recover from choking, and he was laughing in between coughing which wasn’t helping at all.

The bartender was looking concerned.

“His wife left him for his sister and his brother in law confessed his love to him, it’s a royal mess,” you told him, rolling your eyes.

Hoseok died a little more. “Stop,” He gasped, finally just laughing.

“It’s not my fault he thinks your butt is cute.”

He collapsed off of the stool, thudding to the ground and laughing harder.

“Man, two sips and you’re already drunk. You better not ask me if I like that nastiness again.”

He got up with your help, starting to calm down. “I won’t ask that.”

“Good. But seriously, I’m cutting you off. You’re too much of a lightweight.” You settled the bill with some extra for the bartender, then guided him toward the door.

But both of you stopped at the door.

“It’s raining?” Hoseok asked, still a little breathless.

“It would appear so.” You looked up at the sky.

“Do you like getting caught in the rain?” He asked quietly, holding out his hand.

You laughed softly, taking his hand. “I actually really do.”

“Really?” He smiled as he laced his fingers with yours.

“Really,” You confirmed, looking out at the rain with a little excitement.

“You might ruin your clothing.”

“Clothing washes, as do I.” You tugged and pulled him out into the rain, giggling as the rain started soaking into you.

He laughed as well, looking less comfortable in the rain, but like he was willing to let you lead him through it.

No.

Like he would follow you into anything.

“Why did you offer me the job?” You asked.

He met your gaze with surprise.

“Why me?”

He smiled at you, stepping closer so he could be heard. “I couldn’t say goodbye.”

You tilted your head.

“I couldn’t say goodbye to you, not at that time, and I don’t know why, but I’m trying to figure it out.”

You could work with that.

Hoseok touched your cheek, then moved in.

You knew your eyes were a little wide.

He gave a slight smile and then leaned in to kiss you.

You allowed it, and you didn’t regret it as his lips met yours. It was…new. Different. Right.

Except for one tiny detail.

You pushed him away gently. “Okay. But you need a new go-to drink because I forgot to mention I’m actually allergic to coconut, so, I’m gonna take some allergy meds now.”

His eyes widened. “I like mimosas and daiquiri.”

You nodded, swallowing an allergy pill. “Great. We won’t kill me, then.”

“How allergic are you?”

You shrugged. “I should be fine now.”

“Okay.”

“So, if you want to kiss me, we can do that again.”

He met your gaze, smiling. “That sounds like a bad idea.”

You rolled your eyes, then pulled him in. “Kiss me.”

He grinned. “Man, I love your honesty.”

And in the rain, you kissed your piña colada man, ignoring what might happen in your future.

“Might not be a permanent job, my judgement might be clouded. I might show favoritism.”

“Then call me a consultant pending permanent employment and depending where this takes us we’ll…let the others decide my fate.”

“Works for me. Let me walk you home. Where do you live?”

You gestured vaguely. “That way. About fifteen minutes from your building. Work. Place.”

“When you said you were a virgin—”

“I never said I was a—walk. We’re getting soaked standing here like idiots and I hear thunder.” You started walking, keeping hold of his hand. “That or I start reevaluating what parts you really need.”

He laughed. “You know what’s funny?”

“No.”

“When you’re actually being honest, your hands relax, and when you’re bluffing, they get all tense.”

Huh.

“What is your biggest concern with the memory core?”

You considered it for a moment. “It could just be a matter of wording.”

“That’s still important.”

“The proposal suggests imprinting all of the memories of the player onto the memory core so that full immersion is more stimulating.”

“Right.”

“But it’s wording makes it sound like the game is replacing their memories. Imagine someone overwrites the data: what happens when the player tries to re-immerse themselves?”

He was quiet for a while. “That…could be….”

“Disastrous. This machine is supposed to work with your brain, but corrupted files could shut the brain down or damage it. It is incredibly dangerous if I’m understanding it correctly.”

“It could hurt people. We have to tick every box. And come up with fail safes.”

“To me, it’s not worth the risk. But that’s why I wanted to talk to them, to make sure I was understanding things.” You gestured to a building. “This is me.”

He nodded, only following when you tugged on his hand. “Are you sure you want me—”

“We’re soaked and the wind is picking up, and—” lightning flashed through the sky, “the storm is getting worse. We’ll call you a cab or something.”

“Right. Inside. Good idea.”

You ditched your shoes the moment you got in, rushing to the bathroom to grab towels so the two of you didn’t drip all over everything. “It’s a bit hot in here, sorry, my AC broke.”

“Just means we’re not going to get chilled,” He answered, taking the towel and looking around. “It’s nice.”

You glanced around as well. You’d opted for minimalism since that was the only way to make the place not feel claustrophobic. “It does the job.”

“So, you’re allergic to coconut?”

“Mostly the consumption, but I do have mild reactions externally as well.”

“How’d you find out?”

“Coconut hair treatment with my friend when I was fifteen. They had to cut my hair off because my scalp blistered and broke out and it was…traumatizing. But that was because it was coconut oil right against my skin for over an hour, undiluted. My daily allergy meds help if I happen to use, I don’t know, soap with coconut in it.” You put the kettle on the stove since you were feeling kind of chilled. “Tea?”

“Sure.” He started examining the photos on your wall (all three of them). “So, if I hadn’t been the last straw for that job, where do you think you’d be right now?”

“Dumping a scotch-neat on my boss’s head, if not down his pants, after quitting and looking for a job with less drunk people. My boss was drunk, my coworkers were drunk, everyone was drunk, except me. Do you know how surreal that feels?”

“And yet you accepted a job from me, someone who was drunk?”

“So you admit it,” You pointed out.

He rubbed his neck. “I usually only drink in the evenings, it generally makes me sleepy.”

“You had caffeine with your alcohol, then.”

“Accidentally.”

“That would explain the whole ‘why is the rum always gone’ debacle.”

He was very red looking in profile, but that could have been the lighting. “Yeah. I was embarrassed as I did it and yet I didn’t stop. Stupid.”

“If I hadn’t been having a terrible night, I probably would have enjoyed the reference, honestly. But, as you put it, you were the last straw. I would probably be applying to fast food right about now if it hadn’t been you.” You watched him studying your photos far longer than they were worth studying. “Are my photos that interesting?”

“These three were the ones you consciously decided to display, which means they mean something to you.”

You thought about that for a moment, thinking about all of the photos of families that the people you’d worked under while spying had shown you. Always the kids, always the wife, always the beloved pet.

But Hoseok had no photos in his office.

“You don’t keep any photos visible in your office, and office photos are, arguably, the ones that provide the most insight into people,” You countered, sitting on the floor with the tray of tea on the coffee table.

He joined you on the floor. “It’s a precaution. I keep the photos in J-Hope’s desk, the locked drawer. I’m surprised you noticed, though.”

“I wouldn’t have, but people kept shoving their photos in my face and if they weren’t, then I was redirecting their attention to their photos so I would get away with my snooping. People like to talk about themselves.”

He was watching you, a soft smile on his face. “You really are something else.”

You shrugged. “Don’t know what to tell you there.”

“We could hide it, you know. Us, whatever we are?”

“Professional flirtation,” You guessed, holding the mug and surprised at how cold your fingers had been. “Workday dalliance?”

“Wow, um, anyway, we could just not tell anyone about us.”

“9 to 5 lovers,” You quipped, trying to come up with more.

“Are you purposefully ignoring me?”

“Ye-es,” You dragged out, trying to think of another thing to call it.

“You don’t think we could?”

“I think the boys would figure it out before the morning meeting ended.”

“Oh, right, I didn’t mean from the boys.”

“Oh, ok, please continue.” You leaned on your hand and watched him.

“We stay away from anything unprofessional at work, with the exception of in private, and we make sure no one catches on. Then, when I officially take my position...we reevaluate where we are and adjust accordingly.”

“Officially take your position?”

“Technically, I’m not yet the CEO, my father is, but I’ve been acting CEO for about three years.”

He didn’t add that they had been the most prosperous three years of the company’s history, but maybe he was trying to stay humble.

“So, once he’s better and we finish a few things, he’ll hand over things to me officially. In front of the company.”

“Revealing that J-Hope is actually his son and everyone’s boss.”

He nodded. “Which would also be revealing that you have been working for me.”

“All of which could be potentially disastrous.”

“Yeah.” He sighed. “I bet you’d say I should have been open about it the whole time.”

“Not at all. I think this was the best course of action. Everyone respects J-Hope, they like him. They like his work ethic, they like how he listens, and they like how he cares. They like how bright and cheerful he is. They don’t know if they can trust their CEO, but they know that the board has been taking care of them and the CEO has been allowing it. They’re curious, and a little apprehensive.” You remembered all of the conversations you’d had over the week.

But one stuck out to you.

You’d been getting coffee with one of the employees in the marketing department, discussing the company and it’s leadership.

“I don’t know about the CEO. Or, well,” She flustered for a second. “I don’t know why he feels the need to hide from us. His father never did, but maybe there’s a plan. Every now and then, they have someone who sort of...scopes things out. They had me in project development for a couple of weeks so that I could tell them what I thought of the person that was testing the projects. That person was Mr. Jeon.”

You’d tilted your head, confused.

“Jeon Jungkook, he’s one of the board members, the youngest board member. He’s really good at catching on, which makes him a prime test subject for things that are about to be released. We can’t bring people in, not often, because information tends to get leaked. He’s been a godsend to the company. Mr. Jung found him, too, he’s found just about every top employee, and all of the board members--except J-Hope. He worked his way up through the company, and then impressed Mr. Jung Sr. and was given a job on the board. He looks after employee welfare and we’ve had an amazing increase in our benefits program ever since. It’s a shame Mr. Jung Jr. didn’t start out like J-Hope.”

“What’s that look for?”

You jumped a bit, refocusing on him. “All of the things that J-Hope has done are your accomplishments. You’ve improved the benefits program, upgraded the retirement package, made sure that everyone has received pay increases, and you worked your way up through the company. Your intellect lies in people, and your devotion to your job as their employer has inspired loyalty to you. I’m not saying you should go out tomorrow and reveal that you’re Mr. Jung Jr.”

“Do they really call me that?” He cringed.

“But you shouldn’t fear...telling them who you are. Yes, it could cause problems, but only momentarily. Until then, you want me to help you deal with trash and question everything so that the ship is running tightly when the official transfer happens. Right?” You asked, sitting up straight. “That way if anything happens with stocks, or the market, the company is running smoothly and will stay afloat.”

“You have a business degree, don’t you?”

“I never graduated,” You corrected easily. “But I did study some business, yes. This is what you want from me, correct?”

“Yes. I need you to tell me to suck it up when I hesitate.”

“Okay. Did you read my report on the other departments?”

He nodded slowly.

“Then I suggest you decide what should be done to those employees, and what you’re actually willing to do. Because I outlined my suggestions for each of them, but ultimately, it is up to you. You want to run a tight ship, you need to get rid of excess crew, which sounds terrible, but it’s true. If they’re not doing their job, they have no reason to be on deck. And some of them were on the wrong decks.”

He nodded. “I’ll review it once more, but we’ll probably go with your suggested actions.”

“Okay. Glad we understand each other.” You grabbed your phone, checking it. “Taehyung wants to know if I’m alive, and if I’m alive, is Hoseok alive as well.”

“Crap,” He went into his pocket. “Oh. They just wanted to go drinking. Taehyung is our usual designated driver. He’s not a big drinker like Jungkook and Jimin. I’m going to ask him to swing by and pick me up. If that’s okay.”

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

He shrugged. “I didn’t know how you felt about where you lived. You’re kind of hard to read.”

“I live here, I pay the rent, it’s small, but it’s mine. Or were you referring more to a bunch of men knowing where I, a single woman, lived?”

“The latter.”

“Ah, sweet of you to be concerned, but Jimin’s already seen my place.”

“He has?” Hoseok frowned.

“He dropped me off after we went shopping. None of the stores had bathrooms. Nature called.” You shrugged.

“I don’t like that,” Hoseok muttered, obviously more to himself.

“You don’t like that he had to use the bathroom? Or that we went shopping together? Because, technically, he was the only board member I was allowed to be seen with as one of his employment experiments.” You pointed out, waiting for him to pull himself together and continue texting Taehyung. “Also, you might want to text him before it’s too late.”

“That he saw your house.”

“Interesting. Text Taehyung,” You instructed carefully. “Before you have to pay for a cab.”

He did, but he was frowning the whole time.

You rolled your eyes. “Jimin was here for all of five minutes. I doubt he could even tell you what color the walls in the bathroom are.”

“Color,” He muttered, getting up and heading to the small hall.

“Um….”

“Purple. Walls are purple. Take that.”

“Oh my god, there is no way you’re even buzzed, why are you acting weird?”

“Purple. Blue. White. Three pictures.”

You rolled your eyes, and shook your head. “Weirdo. I mean, I knew that, only weird people like pina coladas--”

He caught you and kissed you again. “Don’t let Jimin in. He’s a minx. He’s a fox. That magic trickster fox that seduces you. A succubus.”

“Incubus,” you corrected. “Which is a sort of demon. Magical fox thing is a kitsune. You’re mixing your mythologies.”

“You’re so smart,” He said, but he said it in a sort of happy, sighing way while looking at you so softly and gently and adoringly….

You believed him.

He touched your cheek, then quickly pulled his hands away. “Alright. How about a rule?”

“Depends on the rule,” You replied.

“You have good judgement, and self control,” His gaze shifted to your eye, and his fingers brushed the edge of the bruising with a feather-light touch, “So, I want there to be a rule that at work, any...personal things between us are initiated by you. Which means you can shut me down at any time, anyway you feel necessary.”

“You mean, like asking you about your ex?”

“Ouch,” He muttered, looking down. “Yeah. Sure. What do you want to know?”

“Am I replacing your ex?”

He shook his head. “Not even remotely.”

“I’m in their office.”

He looked up, then shook his head. “No, you’re in my mom’s old office. Yesuel never worked at HopeWorld. Too much of a free-spirit.”

“But you loved them all the same.”

“I did. I thought I did. Love is...tricky.”

“Are you ready for another significant other?” You asked.

He met your gaze, holding it. “Do you like getting lost in the rain?”

You smiled. “You know I do.”

“Then you know I am,” He replied easily, fingers resting under your chin. “Are you going to be okay, with your eye like that? They did say it could get worse, and if it does….”

“Are you asking if you can stay? Because you’d have to borrow clothing, or live in a blanket until your clothing is dry. I don’t have much that would fit you.”

“I’m worried about you. I’ll stay on the couch.” He touched a strand of your still-damp hair. “Eye injuries are dangerous.”

“Didn’t you already tell Taehyung to come pick you up?”

He shook his head. “I was just going to walk down to work and get my car and pretend that Taehyung picked me up.”

You hit him lightly. “And if you got struck by lightning?”

“My company would be in good hands,” He answered, shrugging slightly. “But I would miss out on a few things. But you can get hit by lightning and live.”

“Not well,” You argued, frowning.

He gently ran a thumb over your eyebrow, as though to ease away your frown. “Besides, I was already struck by you. I don’t think anything could knock me off my feet like that, I don’t think anything ever has. You’re new and unique. And I want to know everything I can about you. Even if you don’t like pina coladas. Even if you are a virgin.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you’re addicted to it,” He replied easily, smirking at you.

And yes.

You were.

It was crazy, but you were completely addicted to the banter with him, the way he smiled while you were grumbling, the way he asked what you thought of things and actually listened. You liked his gentleness and compassion.

He brought hope back to your world.

“I agree to your rule,” You whispered.

Hoseok grinned and kissed you.

Your future was going to be crazy...but maybe the consistency of his smile was enough to get you through.

#btswritingbingo #hoseok x reader #jung hoseok x reader #jhope x reader #reader x jhope #reader x bts #bts fic #jung hoseok #jhope #jimin #taehyung #seokjin #yoongi #namjoon #business au #ceo!hoseok #ceo!jhope #one-shot

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blu-joons · 3 years

Text

The Expensive Gift ~ Kim Namjoon

The box had been sat on the table all evening leaving you guessing what could be inside, Namjoon had strictly told you it was to be celebrated for the end of your evening, pushing it lightly across the table for you as you finished the meal that he’d prepared for your evening.

“I should be buying you a gift for cooking all of this,” you smiled, reaching out to take the box and placing it before you, noting the crimson blush on his cheeks.

His head shook, encouraging you to open it. “If I’m honest, Jin cooked most of this, I was just a sous chef,” he chuckled, making your own laughter escape.

You carefully lifted the lid of the box up, giving it a little shake before placing it beside you on the table, glancing back down to see a gorgeous bracelet, shining in silver, glistening back at you under the light of the dining room bulb hanging directly above the table.

Namjoon’s leg shook under the table as he anxiously held onto every moment of yours, desperately searching for a sign to know if you liked it. Your mouth was parted, stunned, as you took a moment to study the jewellery in all its glory.

“I wasn’t sure if it was the sort of design you like, but we can always get a new one if this one won’t do,” he spoke, but your mind zoned out of every word he spoke, reaching into the box and lifting the bracelet out of its box.

The sheer weight of it took you by surprise, straight away you knew it must have cost Namjoon a small fortune to be able to find something so nice. These weren’t the sorts of items your bank account could stretch to affording.

“Namjoon, why are you spending so much money on things for me?” You questioned.

His smile dropped, taken aback, “the money is no issue, I just wanted to buy you something nice, show you how much you mean to me.”

You knew he meant well, but when you couldn’t match the prices that he constantly spent for you, it was natural for you to begin to feel bad. The bracelet was beautiful, there was no denying it, but it also was guaranteed to have put a dent in his wallet.

Namjoon moved around the table, taking the bracelet, and unclasping it so that he could delicately place it around your wrist, making sure it was the perfect size for you to wear.

“I can’t believe you bought this for me Namjoon, it’s so much.”

“Nothing is too much for you,” he hummed.

Your eyes fell to the table, feeling his hand move up to rest against your shoulder, “but how much did this cost you? There’s things that could spend your money on that are more important.”

“Why can’t you just accept the gift Y/N? It’s like you don’t want it.”

Your head shook, that was the last thing running through your mind, it was beautiful, and it looked beautiful on you, but that didn’t stop the guilt that came with wearing it.

Turning your chair around, you looked up at him standing in front of you. “I do want it Namjoon, it’s lovely and thoughtful, but I can’t get you things like this.”

“Do you think I care about that? I have you, I don’t need you to get me anything else.”

Namjoon knew that money was often a sensitive subject, he loved spoiling you with lavish gifts and trips, not once did he ever expect anything in return from you. But he also knew that just saying that wasn’t enough, and that regardless you’d always feel bad that you couldn’t give him the same as what he gave to you.

His hands slipped into yours, pulling you up from the chair so you were stood in front of him, smiling down at you whilst pressing a kiss against your hairline. He knew you were feeling guilty, even though he was so assertive that you never had to feel such a way.

“I don’t want you to buy me things, you know that, right?”

“Perhaps. But how can I not when you do such things for me? I don’t want you to think that I don’t love you or anything like that.”

His head shook, “I could never think like that, I know that you love me, I don’t need gifts to show me that, I just need you, that’s the greatest gift that you could ever give to me, your presence.”

You frowned as he hand fell away from yours, guiding under your chin to bring your eyes up to meet his, if there was ever something that made you feel trusted and save, it was the bright glow of his eyes, constantly there to reassure you.

“I’ll continue to spoil you, because you deserve it, but that doesn’t ever mean you should feel bad or guilty,” he smiled, turning your wrist to look at the other side of the bracelet. “So, did I do a good job with what I picked.”

“It’s really nice Namjoon, I couldn’t have picked a better one myself if I’m honest.”

“I bet you could.”

Before you could argue, his lips pressed gently to your own to silence you, he knew how stubborn you were, both of you loved to win an argument, but this was yours to lose. You’d never be able to change Namjoon, not that you ever really wanted to anyway.

“If I were to have bought a gift tonight, it should have gone to Jin,” you noted.

His brows furrowed, “why on earth would you buy Jin a gift? It’s hardly like he’s your boyfriend or anything.”

“But he’s the one that cooked tonight, that wasn’t you?” You teased, “you brought me here under the pretence that you’d cooked, when in reality you just stood back and let Jin do all the work. He’s the one that deserves something for all of this.”

“That’s unfair, I’ll have you know I chopped a few of the veg.”

Your eyes rolled, just picturing the carnage that probably ensued between the two of them today was enough to give you quite the headache, feeling sorry for Jin having to deal with him.

“There was one other thing I had prepared tonight,” Namjoon told you.

Your eyes widened; you couldn’t take much more tonight. “I don’t need anything else Namjoon, the bracelet is more than enough.”

“I don’t think it’s quite what you’ll expect,” he spoke, walking out of the dining room into the kitchen, reappearing a few moments with his hands behind his back. “This is it.”

From around his back he pulled out a pair of washing up gloves, gladly handing them over to you whilst glancing at the pile of dishes from all the work that had gone into the day. You looked at him in horror, shaking your head at his escaping giggles.

“I put so much hard work into today, it’s only fair that you wash up,” he grinned, “you always say that we should be fair in this relationship, so I think this does the trick.”

You snatched the gloves from him, tossing them to the side, “just when I think you’re being all romantic you go and do something like this.”

Namjoon followed behind you as you took your plates and carried them through to the kitchen, having picked the gloves off the floor. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

“No, that’s your job. You can’t possibly expect me to wash up with this nice new bracelet, so you can wash, and I’ll dry. How does that sound?”

He couldn’t argue, as you stood ready with the tea towel to start the washing up together, fairly. “This has really backfired hasn’t it?”

“It has. That is a gift you can keep Joon.”

---

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heavenunderthemoon · 3 years

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Can we get JJ and daughter reader where the reader bio father comes back

ROOM 286

Warnings: mentions of drug abuse, blood, death, abandonment.

This piece is extremely angsty, I didn't even mean for it to happen it just kinda came to me while writing last night, enjoy:)

Sanitizer.

It smelled of sanitizer and something else. Something heavy, pulling you down, the scent dragging against the floor as you walked along with it, sneakers hitting the freshly waxed floor with a squeak. What was that smell?

It could have been anything, walking among the halls of that hospital, a hospital you had never been to, a hospital far away from your home, from Quantico.

Blood, maybe. Blood leaving someone else's body, a severe injury or just a small wound. Or blood entering someone else's body. A transfusion, a hope to save someone's life, a wish to stay alive for just a while longer. Blood, scarlet and distinct, heavy and substantial, entering or leaving.

Or death. Perhaps the heaviness was the mere proximity of death that hospitals seemed to have. Hospitals were like a precipice, a border between the living and the dead. Some who entered simply never left, and those who didn't were walking behind you, mirroring your footsteps, following your direction. It was the darkness of death, the souls of those that were lost covering the hospital like a shroud. The weight of those souls, the anger, dread, and our sadness that filled them weighed them down, pulling the hospital with it.

You had never liked hospitals.

"This is his room."

Your mother's voice was taut, laced with pain and something else. Bitterness, maybe? You snuck a glance toward her. She was still dressed in her work clothes, having practically sprinted off the jet to grab you from the house. Her gun was holstered, resting on her hip directly next to her badge that clipped to her belt loop. It gleamed under the fluorescent lights of the hospital, and you looked away, back to your mother's face.

She was crying, albeit small. Tears pooled in her eyes, the bright blue you had stared into for your entire life. Her teeth were sinking into her bottom lip, tiny sniffles escaping every so often, as if attempting to console herself as to not let you hear it. She never liked you to see her cry, not even after those stupid, cheesy romance movies that the two of you rented out every Valentine's Day. The woman was still operating under that archaic belief that once you turned an adult, once you became a parent, your emotions were supposed to simply leave you, become secondary to your child. You wished she wasn't. You wished you could take her hand and let her know she could cry but the entire situation at the moment, the real-life fever dream had you incredibly uncertain of how to handle anything that came next. Your hands clenched in your jacket pockets, glancing back to the room before you.

Room 286.

"Your father is dying, Y/N."

A glance back to Will in the kitchen had made you furrow your brows. The LaMontagne man was whistling as he cooked, fingers clenched around a wooden spoon being used to stir the noodles in the pot. Will was an excellent chef, and you had just gotten your report card back for the first semester- straight A's (and one B, but it was math, and both Will and your mother knew how much you absolutely loathed the subject, and so they took that as a win). The dinner was celebratory in a way, nothing too fancy you didn't like all the fuss, nor did you want to have to make your mother miss a nice dinner in a restaurant that passed out free breadsticks before a meal (she would argue that any restaurant that did so was, automatically her favorite, no matter if the bread was crappy and stale). And so, pasta at home it was, and you had even negotiated Will's famous peanut-butter cookies for dessert. Henry sat on the counter beside him, giggling at his father's horrible dance moves. They were off-beat, choppy, and out-dated, but it made both Henry and you laugh uncontrollably when he did them, and so he continued.

The sun was just setting and your mother was on a case. She liked to call before bedtime when she was away, enough time to coax Henry into a sleepy stupor, to tell him goodnight, and to let you know how much longer she would be gone. You would tell her about your day, and she hers. The two of you would talk for forty-five minutes if she had time, ten if she didn't. But the sound of your phone ringing at dinnertime hadn't made you think anything was wrong. Perhaps she was calling early, or maybe she just wanted to hear your voice. That happened sometimes too, when the cases were especially heinous.

"What?" You asked confusedly. Will was looking at you with a raised brow, mouthing a 'You okay?', to which you didn't quite have an answer for. Instead, you shrugged, holding up a finger as a signal to give you a minute, before you were exiting the room. The playroom was a mess, Henry rarely ever picked up his toys. You sidestepped two matchbox cars before you stepped on a lego, hissing at the pain and walking over it irritatedly. For as small as he was, he sure could create a mess.

A pregnant pause.

"It's Christopher." Another pause. You were starting to hate those. "Your birthfather... He's dying."

Your breath seemed to have been stolen, and the last of your air hitched in your throat, eyes becoming unfocused. How were you supposed to react to this? You weren't entirely sure. your birth father, a man you didn't know, a stranger, really. You didn't know anything about him.

Horrible thoughts began to flood your mind.

You didn't know what he looked like. You inherited a lot of traits- too many traits, honestly- from your mother, so you had never thought to ask. You were a bit taller than your mother...was that him? Was that his genetics coming into play? What color eyes did he have? What did his smile look like? You didn't know small things either. How did he like his eggs cooked? What method of shoe-tying did he prefer (bunny loops or round-a-bouts)? Dogs or cats? Movies or books? Did he watch T.V. with the captions on or off? You didn't know his favorite book genre, or band, or what foods he didn't like. You didn't know any of these things about him, about your father.

You knew these things about Will, of course. Because when you thought of 'father', Will was the first thing that came to mind. It had been that way for a while, so perhaps the fulfillment of the 'father' role in your brain was obscuring your mind, but you were wracking your brain to remember the last time you had thought of your brith father. But, then again, maybe you shouldn't have, because now, flashing before your mind were not saccharine , wholesome stories, but memories of empty chairs in audiences, uncelebrated Father's days, and 'Father-daughter' dances with Derek, or Reid, or Hotch. Sour thoughts and memories of an absentee father who left your mother in the lurch, abandoned her in her time of need, was that bad to think of he was dying? Were you supposed to be nice now? You weren't sure the rules of this arrangement.

"What?" It was weak and strangled, as if someone had clutched your throat right then and there and squeezed.

"He's at Saint Mercer's. It looks like an overdose, he had a stroke. It was too much for his body, and the doctors declared him brain dead. I was his emergency contact, and..." Your mother was speaking, rambling from the tone of her voice. She was in shock, surely, and you were only half-listening.

An overdose.

You wondered what you'd find on the other side of the door.

"Are you ready?"

Your mother was speaking, but she didn't sound like she was...there. You were sure she wasn't. No, she hadn't been there ever since she had gotten you, taken you to that airport, boarded you on the first flight out, planted you both in front of room 286 in Saint Mercer's Hospital. Her eyes were glazed over, as if replaying every single moment with the man she had once known , the man she had created another child, her first child, with. A man she hadn't seen for entirely too long, and a man she hadn't ever expected to see again. A man she wouldn't even recognize, surely, because he wasn't a man when he left. You weren't sure if he had ever become a man. To your mother, he had been a boy, just a boy and a girl, in childish love, until they weren't.

"Are you?" You countered, eyes glued onto the wooden door separating you and a man you should know, but had no relation to.

For the fist time that night, she smiled.

She smiled because despite it being the most unfair situation in the world- a situation in which she was placed as an emergency contact for a man who intentionally left her when she was pregnant with his child (placed as an emergency contact in hopes to either advocate for them to try harder to save his life, or to let him go if need be, which, ironically, he had abandoned her completely without regards to treat her reciprocally)- you were there. You, her shining hope, a silver lining in the entirety of it all. You were the one thing that made her not regret a single decision she had made with the man, made her not regret meeting him in the first place, because she had gotten you. Your hair was shoved into a baseball cap, Will's, she recognized. It usually hung on the coat rack by the door, the man tugging it on whenever he went to the store or to pick Henry up from school. It was sun-damaged, tearing at the lip, but he refused to buy a new one because 'that just means it was well-loved, JJ.'. And now it sat on your head, a hat that belonged to a man you had met six years ago, a man you called Dad, willingly and without any input from her. You, a girl who had gone without a father for so long. Years of Father's Day cards, heart-wrenchingly sweet cards made out to Reid, or Derek, or Hotch because they volunteered to take you to your dances, even if she had offered to go, because you said you didn't think it would be allowed for her to crash it. Cards made out to her, thanking her for being both the mom and the dad (those tended to make her cry a lot). Years of ballet recitals, soccer games, spelling bees, silly school graduations, all of which she happily attended, but attended alone. All the nights of fevers and stomach aches and sniffles and dry throats. All the diaper changes and reverse cycling. All the scraped knees, busted elbows, trips to the ER. And now you were here, in front of the man who had abandoned you before you had even let out your horridly beautiful wail. JJ felt so many emotions at once, swelling within her that she reached out, grabbing your hand.

You weren't sure if it was to comfort you or herself, but you took it, entering the room as she opened it.

Machines.

Lots and lots of machines.

They stood at attention by his bedside, beeping and humming so loudly you weren't sure your thoughts would be able to tear their way through your mind anymore. Perhaps stat was a good thing.

There he was, lying in the bed before you. A standard hospital blanket was draped across his lower half. It was cream and thin, you recalled your days spent in a hospital not too long ago, how much you had hated it then. Those blankets were always itchy and uncomfortable, and you had all but forced Penelope to bring you one from home, to which she happily obliged, toting an assortment of stuffed animals as well (you argued you were too old for them, to which she had responded that no one was too old for comfort brought about by a stuffed animal.). His hands were resting limply at his sides, and you forced your eyes to skip over his arms, the damage an indicator of the activities he had chosen over taking care of you for the past decade.

When you reached his face you tilted your head. His face was sullen, cheeks sunken in, lips dried and caked in dead-skin. A redness spread about his face, a sunburn, perhaps, but you weren't sure. His hair, brittle and receding, was brown and you wondered of you had gotten anything from the man. A small part of you hoped you didn't. Looking at him now, you weren't sure if you wanted to. A sudden thought popped into your mind and you turned to your mother, who seemed to try to be looking anywhere but the man before her.

"What color were his eyes?"

They were shut now, and he almost looked...peaceful.

JJ lips parted, eyes coming to meet yours. "Brown." She said softly. Her hand was still in yours and you didn't make a move to drop it.

You nodded, glancing back to him. Something was missing, you gazed around the small hospital room to find what it was before it came to you. "Where is everyone? His family, or friends? Do they know he's here?" You looked back to the man, eyes following the rise and fall of his chest created by the ventilators attached to him.

The blonde stiffened, looking at her shoes. "They do. They won't come." With a clear of her throat, she was glancing back to you, your face softening as your teeth took your lip in their hold.

He was alone.

Was that by choice? Or had he run away from them like he had run away from you and your mother?

The doctor entered the rom, signaling for your mother to speak with her, and she left with a squeeze of your hand, leaving you with...him.

What were you to call him? Christopher? Dad?

Alone.

He was alone. His parents weren't coming to see him, he didn't have any friends. No loved ones to hold his hand in his time of need, to tell him it was going to be okay, to tell him that he was safe, and loved, and would be remembered. Regardless of his past actions, you felt...awful. Looking at him, you couldn't feel anything other than immense sympathy, because he had pushed away everyone and everything in his life, and he was left with nothing. You pondered his appearance, wondering what he must have looked like back when he had met your mother, what had drawn her in to him, made her love him and want him and that thought train had you reaching for his hand. Your mother didn't love without reason. She was logical, and fair-minded, and welcoming, and you knew that if she had loved a man, the man before you, it must've been for a good reason. And so, you couldn't judge him based on what was before you, because that was a result of all of his bad choices, all of his digressions and, yes, they were horrible, but they had also allowed your mother to meet Will. It allowed them to have Henry, it allowed you to have a family, a perfect family, and now all you felt was sympathy. No anger. No pain. Just sadness.

His hand was warm, surprisingly. What would it have been like to grow up with his hand, one to put in yours when you crossed the street, to feel your forehead when you said you felt sick, to help tie your shoes when you were still learning?

The beeps of the machines sang louder as you stepped closer.

"Nice to meet you." You said softly, closing your eyes for just a moment. Just enough time for you to feel the weight of his hand in yours, to reassure yourself that this was real, that you were there, before you were opening them again.

When you did, your mother was back in the room.

Your mother's heart almost broke when she entered. The doctor needed her signature, needed a confirmation that they could remove life support, and her shaky hand had signed beside the 'x' with tear-filled eyes. And when she returned back to that godforsaken room, a room in which she felt all the air was removed, a room in which she felt suffocated, she saw you. Your hand in his, an image she had imagined in her head over and over and over again when you were growing up, a pipe dream, really. A dream in which he suddenly got his act together, came back to find the both of you, declared his love for her, and begged for forgiveness for leaving. It was a dream that she wasn't even sure she wanted to happen so much as wondered if it would. Because you two didn't need him, she would attest that you two didn't need anyone, not really. Not before Will and Henry. You two were strong and independent. Jareau women were fighters. But still, she had thought about Christopher, and now that dream was shattered because instead of him holding flowers, he was hooked up to a life support machine, brain dead and unresponsive.

She wanted to yell. She wanted to yell and laugh and cry because this wasn't fair. It wasn't fair. She wanted to stomp her feet and throw herself to the floor like a toddler throwing a tantrum but it just...wasn't fair. She couldn't yell at him because he couldn't respond. She couldn't yell at him, because he was practically already dead, and he had left the decision for someone to give him the final blow to her. Her, a woman he had neglected, and your hand was in his, and everything was wrong.

Her feet took her to you, despite every cell in her body attempting to make her turn around.

"They're gonna unplug him, right?" She had told you on the way there that it was a strong possibility, depending on his state. But saying it aloud made it feel much more real. It shouldn't feel so absurd, you scolded. He was never in your life anyway, it wouldn't particularly make a difference. But, in some strange, bizarre way, it did It made a difference because now, Christopher wasn't just some man who abandoned you, he was a dead man who abandoned you.

"Yes." Her voice was small, and you latched onto her once more.

"He's all alone." You said with a frown, and she removed her hand from yours, instead, choosing to drape her arm across your shoulder and bring you into her embrace. Doctors were beginning to enter the room, beginning to explain what each machine did, the consequences of unplugging it, and then doing so quietly, though neither of you were listening.

"He is." She nodded, blonde hair rubbing against the side of your face.

You both stood silent for a moment watching the doctors continue.

"Tell me about him. When you loved him."

JJ sucked in a breath. She had only thought about the bad for so long, only thought about the moment his hand was no longer hers, his retreating figure as she clutched that pregnancy test in her hand, that panic in her chest as she realized she would have to do this alone. "He transferred to my high school in my sophomore year. Everybody went nuts. We didn't get new people in town...ever. But there he was. His hair was a mess," She glanced toward you, a soft smile replacing the frown she had been wearing. "Kinda like yours when you wake up."

"Hey." You mumbled into her shoulder, but you laughed all the same.

"We had a few classes together and he never let me forget it. Chris bugged me almost every minute of them, passing me notes, trying to talk to me, asking me out. I swore I wouldn't, I was too focused on soccer. But, he wore me down."

You rose a brow. "Wore you down? I didn't think that was possible."

She chuckled, the vibrations from it were felt on your cheek. "It wasn't before him. He was...different. He was a total music snob, spent almost all his money on the latest releases. He liked to take me swimming, said everything, all the bad things and all the troubles just floated away when you were in the water."

You looked back to the man in the bed, the doctors having turned off all the machines by now. Now, it was just a waiting game.

"That sounds silly." You whispered.

"It was. But, then again, so was he. He was carefree, spirited, and laid back. He hated the thought of having to grow up one day, said that being an adult was a life sentence to nowhere. Your grandparents hated him, but I didn't care. He was my first love."

You took in all the information, watching the ragged rise and fall of his chest, the sound of his wheezing making you cringe. "Would he have been good dad, you think?"

JJ thought about it for a moment. "I don't know. He chose to run. But I don't think he was suited for being a dad. I think he wouldn't have liked the responsibility of it all." She said thoughtfully, squeezing your shoulder before she was placing her head atop yours. "I know, without a doubt, that he would have loved you, though."

A snort escaped your lips. "Really?" You asked doubtfully.

"Oh, for sure. I think that if he had met you, he would have tried his best to be there, to be there for you. You both do that thing when you get mad, where you nose twitches like a little bunny and it's so cute that no one can ever stay mad at you. Or when you're tired, your eyes droop down and you can sleep instantly, no matter where you are. You both like rock music, and comedy movies, and blankets when they're fresh out of the dryer-"

"I don't think anyone can hate blankets when they're fresh out of the dryer."

She chuckled. "And you both hate peas. I swear, I tried to feed them to you when you were little and you actually scoffed at me. A seventh month old baby, scoffing at me."

"Hmm, wonder where I learned that from."

JJ rolled her eyes. "And you both have a big heart. Sometimes, his heart was so big, that he didn't quite know what to with it. You're better with following it, but you both have it. Just, too much love to give, and he never knew where to place it."

Silence settled over the two of you once more, the wheezing become quieter.

It was just you and her. You and her and the man in the bed. Her arms around you, chin atop your head as you lay in the crook of her neck.

"Are you sad?" you asked softly.

She took three breaths before she answered. "Yes."

You looked back at Christopher, imagining a relationship, one that included movie nights and car rides filled with shared music interests and dinners that revolved around your hatred of snow peas. But the image was foreign and fleeting, and all you could see was Will in your kitchen, producing horrible dance moves and whistled melodies. You could only see Henry shaking you awake. Reality reminded you of the life you actually lived, one without a Dad for a small amount of time, and then finding one. A life without Christopher. Your life and his. Ones that should have been lived together, but never were.

"Me too."

And the wheezing ceased.

Well damn. ANYWAYS, I’m so happy people are liking my JJxdaughter!reader content. It’s so strange because I really thought it wouldn't get much attention so that’s a fun surprise. Let me know what you think about this piece!

#Jennifer Jareau x daughter! reader #jennifer jareau x reader #Jennifer Jareau #criminal minds x reader #Criminal Minds

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