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moonctzeny · 4 years

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This is technically a part 2 of my fic Work for it but it can be enjoyed on its own!

pairing: supervisor !johnny x intern ! female reader x assistant !haechan

genre: smutty goodness (this will send me to hell vip)

word count: almost 14k

summary: “After you fuck the Sales’ department supervisor, Johnny Suh in your office during an overtime, you’re left to deal with the unavoidable lingering emotions that come with getting his dick on the regular. At the same time, his assistant and your best work buddy, Donghyuck, who initially helped you with getting with his boss, realises his growing crush on you that is too big to be ignored at this point. With their masterful skills in seduction, you’ve ended up tangled in a sexual game with the both of them, all the while trying to move up from an intern to a permanent worker in the company”

warnings: threesome w/ two doms, alcohol consumption, mention of food (meat, lettuce, eggs), oral, overstimulation, thigh job, at some point- reader borrows a shirt from haechan and it’s mentioned that it’s ‘too big on the shoulders’, thigh riding, office sex, pussy slapping, choking, fingering, sir kink thrown in there at some point, a little degradation bc this is my fic we’re talking about

a/n: omg it’s finally done! I really love this so I hope you guys like it as well :)

taglist: @rainodanna, @markresonates, @unknown5tar, @yoongsicles

For every other worker in the office, virtually nothing had changed.

They relive the same mundane routine, Monday after Monday, the same excruciating 8 hours and short cigarette breaks. The same trees, stuck in their ceramic imprisonment would greet them in the company’s entrance. Rigid and dusty and reeking of cheap plastic. It’s not like they’d come alive, open their little mouths on their thylakoid membranes and tell everyone you fucked mr. Suh, the Sales Department’s supervisor, in your office during your overtime. No, that’s not possible, you reminded yourself when you pass by them every morning, giving them a side eye for good measure, as if that would scare them off their zombie state.

And you were the same too, completing your tasks and meeting your deadlines. Blending in with the rest of the company’s human resource, with the exception of the occasional double take of some tactless male worker here and there.

Donghyuck, however, said supervisor’s assistant and your best friend, wasn’t your typical office worker. He noticed the extra layer of cherry lip gloss coating your lips. He noticed your new perfume, sweeter than the one you used to wear. He noticed the knowing smiles between you and his boss, the heat of your body when you were around him. And it wasn’t just because he was sharp overall.

He was the one who practically got you together, planted the seed in Johnny’s head about the cute new intern of the Financial Department. He was the one who convinced him to finally make a move on you, tired of seeing you trying over and over again to seduce the supervisor to your bed.

And when that seed finally sprouted, in the form of Johnny spitting in your mouth and taking you on your office chair like you were his last fuck on earth (according to the hair-raising description you gave Donghyuck the morning after), he should’ve been happy, right?

It didn’t really affect his life in the slightest.

You were just y/n. His friend, his work buddy. The person whom he was close enough to let you know you had a piece of lettuce stuck on your teeth from that sandwich you had on your break. The person who texted him funny gifs of pandas falling asleep during the most boring of meetings. With your nerdy glasses and that ugly brown suit you loved wearing so much. The person he dreamt of fucking every time he fell asleep.

When you told Donghyuck you had a crush on his boss he wasn’t shocked, but the stinging buzz in his guts surprised him. He would see you waltz right past his office all perked up and pretty, to see the person you really came for, nervous as you hung from every word that left Johnny’s mouth. He’d put up with the sound of you giggling over every stupid joke that left the older man’s mouth patiently, just to wait until he’d smell your sweet perfume as you’d walk past him again. To tease you over something that would make you mad enough to notice him, glare at him, maybe even hit him.

And Donghyuck wanted to hate Johnny, he really did. His stupid boss who asked for his coffee specifically made, who was rude and cranky on Monday mornings and got the credit for all his hard work, yet Johnny was nothing of the sort. He was helpful, and kind and let him off early. He was funny and good looking and taller than him and had a six pack, damn it. If Donghyuck was being honest, he didn’t just like his boss, he admired him. It was pathetic, he thought. Most days he’d live vicariously through him.

Sometimes he would lay on his bed at night, picturing himself to be the second lead of a romance drama that would sweep you off your feet. Everyone gets second lead fever, right? In his rem cycles, he’s handsome and hilarious and much more interesting than the main actor. He would imagine himself stretching out his rays, like the full, rising sun that he was, until they overcame the big mountain that was Johnny and reached your skin. So hot against it that you’d have to undress, remove the clothes sticking on your sweaty skin to embrace him.

He thought about your body a hundred times too many for it to be considered healthy. The curve of your ass in your pencil skirts, the little hairs on the nape of your neck that stuck out from your tight ponytails. The runs on your tights that he wished were caused by the sharpness of his fingernails. He listened to your voice carefully, all 90 Hz of it, and played it inside his head as if it was an instrument. Putting together chords and harmonies, composing a music piece of all the ways his name would sound like coming out of your lips.

Donghyuck, Donghyuck, Donghyuck

“Earth to Donghyuck? Are you listening to me?”

It was unlike him to be out of it, especially when he was around you. He blames it on skipping coffee this morning or the shade of red of your blouse that fits you so well. Either way, he had to respond, and keep the pink from flooding his cheeks further. There’s no way you could’ve known what was going on inside his head.

“Uh, yeah, yeah. So, let me get this straight. Weren’t you the one who didn’t want a relationship?”

You were upset, he could tell. After the night of the overtime, you and Johnny had indulged in a few more nights of each other’s presence, but had kept it at that. Sex. Delicious, mind blowing, porno worthy sex, but nothing more than that. And you were starting to itch for a little bit more.

Donghyuck was right, of course. You were the one who told Johnny that this wasn’t the right time in your life for any sort of commitment, especially with someone in the workplace. This was your internship, and you were determined to get a permanent position soon, that should be your first priority. Get the bag and go. There were men everywhere. But why was your heart aching for that particular one with the long hair and the caramel eyes and the flower tattoos?

“I just don’t want people at work to gossip about us, you know how they get. But seeing him so nonchalant about it gets on my nerves.”

Leaving his apartment at 2 am when he was sprawled out on his bed, in just pyjama pants and the light layer of sweat from the athletic sex you just had, hurt enough. It was a sight so beautifully hidden under his work attire that it soon became addictive, the withdrawal symptoms too intense for you to have your dose only once a week.

Donghyuck scowled when you first let out a frustrated sigh, your eyes pitifully following his boss’s silhouette around. He knew you’d never really complain about it, you were set on that promotion and you deserved it too, but it was hard not to get angry. Everything he ever wanted stood willing and ready for taking in front of Johnny’s lap, how could he not claim you?

He hated seeing you sad.

“Let’s go for a drink. I think you need it.”

Even he surprised himself with the sudden proposition, blinking back at you to gauge your reaction. You were best work buddies, sure, but you never hung out after office hours alone. It would make sense for you to refuse, Donghyuck told himself, trying to soften the blow of a potential rejection. You’re probably tired from working, or maybe you’d feel awkward to be alone with him for so long. Maybe you hated to drink, or maybe you hated him. Oh God, what if you hated him? What if you only spent time with him out of social obligat-

“Sure, sounds good. Pick me up after you’re done? Since you’re on the top floor.”

Donghyuck nodded back at you, too eagerly for his liking, the gears in his brain already trying to figure out where he should take you. You excused yourself back to your office, the small pat you gave his shoulder making him grin like an idiot.

This is not a date, he reminded himself.

He had dreamt of this moment for months now. He thought about you every time he walked past that korean bbq place, promising himself that one day he’d muster the courage to finally ask you out. This wasn’t exactly the case today, but it was as close to his imagination as possible. This is not a date.

He repeated that phrase over and over again, let it resonate inside his head. This is not a date because he is a coward and you like someone else. Was he a bad person for taking you out today? Was he taking advantage of your slight disappointment? Was that why you ever said yes in the first place? The self deprecating thoughts lit a fire in his belly and he tried to extinguish it with every shot of clear liquid that disappeared from between his full lips. Like he expected, you weren’t far behind on the drinking either, enjoying the grilled pieces of meat blissfully, moaning in satisfaction with every delicious bite.

You looked pretty before, but now, through the pink coloured glasses of intoxication, you were stunning. There was a halo of bright light surrounding you, making you look so celestial chomping on that piece of lettuce. If it was anyone else, he would pull a face of repugnance at the sight, yet Dongyuck thought that you just looked so cute, so content in that little moment and he wished he could just lean in and leave a kiss over your filled cheeks.

No, that was a dangerous thought. This is not a date, pull it together.

Donghyuck desperately tried to focus his attention somewhere else, anywhere but you would suffice. His eyes finally landed on a bowl of marinated eggs on the table, and it reminded him of the three boiled eggs he makes for breakfast every morning. He was a man of habit, following the same routine until he’d see you and you’d colour between the lines of his life, making it interesting finally. Donghyuck would fill the pot with more water than needed, just enough so that it doesn’t overflow. He liked to be closer to you than he could handle, close enough but never touching you.

Lost in his daydream, he doesn’t realise that he hasn’t talked in minutes. And when you touch his hand lightly with yours to bring him out of it, he almost feels the boiling water burning his skin.

“You’re so quiet”, you say with a chuckle, and Donghyuck makes a mental note to add this harmony to his composition, “you got drunk before I did? Are you really Lee Donghyuck?”

“Well see, I drank all this soju, so I wish I was someone else for the night.”

The statement saddened you, and you withered a little in your seat. Why did Donghyuck drink so much tonight? You came here for you to cheer up, didn’t you? Or were you so caught up in your little personal drama - that you caused yourself - that you missed hearing about his cat dying? You must offer your condolences. Did he even have a cat?

You don’t want to bring up his dead cat in case he did so you just lift your hand next to his head, and weave your fingers through his locks. He has been growing out his hair for months now, and the look might not be the most corporate-professional but it sure fit him. The ash blonde shade that he decided to colour it, brought out the tan of his skin nicely, and the hair itself though bleached was still soft to the touch.

You see him react to the work of your fingers instantly, his expression shocking you. His mouth is hanging open in a loose ‘O’ shape, small wrinkles forming on the space between his eyebrows. You pick out small pieces of hair, one by one, letting gravity do the rest by allowing the individual hairs to return to their previous state.

“What are you thinking about?”, you ask so softly it’s almost a whisper, and Donghyuck can only sigh.

YOU, he wants to scream, you’re in my mind all day long and I think I’m going crazy! He is full on staring at you now and there’s nothing in the world that can take his eyes off of you, off your worried eyes that seem to hold all the stars in the sky, or the soft skin of your neck that he wants to kiss and suck and break so badly. But he doesn’t, and the soju calls him a coward for it, so he settles for the next best thing.

“You are pretty”

It was just three words but they sent your mind in a frenzy. Why did it matter so much to you that Donghyuck found you pleasing to look at? He has complimented you before, even flirted with you a lot of times, yet it was always said half-jokingly, followed by a diss. But this time he was serious, no signs of alcohol clouding his eyes. He was so solemn in fact, that those three words made the heat burn on the skin of your cheeks, rising up your throat and hindering you from responding with a human sound.

He takes one more shot, washing away the embarrassment of his sudden confession and offers to order one more fatty dish to sober up, then take a walk in the city.

The walk was relatively quiet, less awkward than it was 30 minutes ago but Donghyuck was still being uncharacteristically silent.

“I thought you said that alcohol doesn’t make you red”, you say teasingly, trying to spark conversation.

It doesn’t actually. You were the culprit of the wash of burgundy all over his skin, accumulating even more pigmented around his ears and the freckles of his nose. You were walking side by side now, and Donghyuck thought that for the passersby you two must look like lovers. He let his brain entertain that fantasy, his hand itching to hold yours. He’d intertwine your fingers together, give your palm a little rub with his thumb. Then he’d lift the bundle of fingers on his lips, kiss the thin skin of your wrist and make the aunties that are looking at you now coo in adoration.

“Says you. You look so fucked right now.”, he jokes and you’re relieved to see him go back to his teasing self. You don’t know if it’s the chilly night, but you’re overly aware of the heat his body emits, and the smell of his cologne makes your head spin just a bit more. You’ve been sitting so close to him this entire time that you can list off most, if not all, the ingredients in his perfume. Rose, chilly pepper, orange blossom, lavender.

“Donghyuck, I will step on you.”

“Mmm, tempting”

You shove his arm playfully and he reciprocates, but his strength is not as controlled as he thinks. The heels of your boots, slippery against the wet floor that the drizzle caused earlier, make you trip on your steps, and Hyuck is luckily there. With his quick reflexes he catches your elbows first, pulling you up against his chest and you grab his left bicep to support your weight.

You take a deep breath, to register that you did not fall head first on the floor, and that’s when you realise how close Donghyuck is to you. His bangs are tickling your forehead, your deep pants fanning them apart. You admire his glowing skin, the wrinkles of his lips, the two moles lined parallelly with the bridge of his nose. You’re not sure what comes to you, but you raise your free hand and place it over his hot cheek, your thumb connecting those two moles with an invisible line. A raindrop, fresh out of the sky and signifying the start of a new drizzle, falls on his face and follows the trail that a tear would, his voice weak and breaking when he speaks again.

“I’m sorry”

He dips down his head then, connecting your lips and letting the plumpness of his mouth reel you in. You’re over the initial shock almost immediately and kiss him back in vigor, surprised with the heat his kiss has spread to your chest and belly. It was an ember at first, glowing in the very depth of your insides but it was soon starting to spark up uncontrollably, and you were scared of how rapidly it was fueling up. This was your friend you were kissing. So where did all this hunger for him come from?

You pull back when you realise you’re in a road full of people, and you can’t bring yourself to look at him in the eyes. Donghyuck looks disheveled and anxious, and he apologizes again before he urges you to keep walking with him.

“It’s starting to rain. We should get home.”

You walk next to him in complete silence now, stealing quick glances of his reflexion at every surface that made it possible - the windows of the parked cars, the puddles of water on the sidewalk, a passersby’s glasses. The look on his face is unreadable, pensive if anything else, and it’s rare for the expressive Donghyuck you’re used to dealing with. Your homes are towards the same direction, his a little closer than yours, and it doesn’t take too long for you to reach the entrance of his building, your clothes not even half wet from walking without umbrellas.

Donghyuck fumbles to find his keys, his hands shaking from the adrenaline his body released from the kiss earlier, the feeling still too fresh against his lips. He stresses thinking of what to do next. Should he hug you goodnight? Apologize again for kissing you? Unlock the entrance without a word and never speak to you again?

“I’m here”, he states dumbly, as if you’d sit at the porch of a strange house and he avoids your eyes as if you were Medusa, “Goodnight.”

You smile back awkwardly at him, waving with a hand made of clay as you wish him the same. He has turned around to unlock the door, key already at the keyhole and you turn to leave too when his voice stills you in place.

“He’s an idiot.” His back is still facing you, and when he turns to look at you his eyes finally lock with yours, as honest and earnest as ever. “Johnny. If it were me, hell, if you wanted me like that I would grab that opportunity- grab you in an instant, convince you to be mine any way I could.”

You’re stuck looking at him like a fool, trying to comprehend what he’s saying and the complications of it. He puffs out through his nose, chuckling to himself and shaking his head.

“It doesn’t matter. Goodnight y/n.”

Donghyuck is half inside the entrance now and your body suddenly exits its frozen state, blocking the door from closing with your boot. He’s shocked with the sudden movement and he opens up the door further for you. You get inside the little hall without thinking, sitting firmly in front of him, a puzzled look on his face.

“What if I told you he hasn’t even crossed my mind this whole time we were out? What if I told you I haven’t stopped thinking about you since you kissed me? Would it matter then?”

He opens his mouth momentarily, as if to speak but decides to stay silent. He already said everything he needed. It’s up to you now.

And you aren’t ready to leave yet.

You take a step forward to close the distance between you, your chests touching and you pick up the distinct smell of soju in his breath. You’re not sure if it’s that smell or the proximity but you feel drunk all over again, the yellow light of the hall shining disturbingly bright down at you and urging you to do something.

You plant a kiss over his neck, leaving a trace of the remnants of the pink lipstick you applied at the start of the workday. It was tentative, but you could still feel his raging pulse from under your lips. You could feel it get faster too, the rhythm going higher along with his body temperature and you decide on a path. A path of kisses starting from the same spot you’ve turned glittery pink, up his jawline and all the way to his earlobe.

Donghyuck clenches his jawline, you feel that too, and something snaps inside him. He just can’t take it anymore, having you so close to him, your lips on his neck and doing nothing about it. The boiling water finally spilled over the pot, hot and overflowing, and he doesn’t care if he gets burned.

You feel the cool wood against your back before you taste his tongue a second after. He has pushed you up against the entrance door, you realize, but it’s hard to comprehend anything around you when he kisses you like that. It’s the steamy, purposeful continuation of the kiss you shared earlier, and with the lack of prying eyes Donghyuck has a good idea of where he wants it to lead.

He shows you too, pushing his knee between your thighs and he feels your heat almost melt the rough fabric of his jeans. There are so many things he wants to do, so many lines he wants to cross but there is one thing he must ensure.

“Tell me you want this.”

You glide your hands upwards from his pecks to the slope of his neck and wrap them around his neck. Your body seems to act up on its own, and you feel yourself grinding down his leg that is still positioned against the wall. It feels dirty, the desperation of it all, and you connect your chest with his again before answering him.

“Lee Donghyuck. I want you to make me cum”

You grab his hand before he gets to respond, the cool silver of his watch digging against your fingers, and you drag him to the elevator door. As if the universe had sensed your urgency, you find it waiting for you at the bottom floor, and you pull him inside with a tug of his tie.

In no time you find yourself pushed up against the wall again, and you can’t see much beyond Donghyuck’s lips, but you do catch him clumsily pressing the button to his floor with your peripheral vision. Once the elevator is in motion you feel like you can finally submerge yourself in his lips and the way his kisses take your breath away, not sure if the funny feeling in your stomach is from the sudden change in altitude or the arousal. You’re already taking his clothes off, removing the jacket of his suit off his shoulders and working the top buttons of his shirt open.

It’s him that drags you to his apartment this time, urging you out of the elevator as soon as the robotic declaim of his floor number rips through the wet sounds of you kissing. His keys are already easily accessible in his front pocket from your conversation earlier, and when he manages to unlock the entrance with trembling hands you walk inside as if you own the place.

It’s small and cozy, decorated minimally. The first thing you notice is that it smells like Donghyuck, something that should be obvious but it still overwhelms you. It’s maybe a bit stuffy from the hours he was gone yet this is the smell still lingering in your nose from his skin you were sucking just moments ago, trying to distract him from the easy task of opening the door. It’s addictive and you want it stuck on yours.

And Donghyuck does stick on your skin, discarding his tie on the floor with a strong pull and finishing the task of unbuttoning his shirt that you started in the elevator. His movements are impatient and soon he’s half naked, and you barely have time to admire his caramel skin before his hands are all over you. They start safely at the dimples of your waist, then sliding upwards to your ribcage and copping a feel of the underside of your boobs by sneaking his thumbs under the wire of your bra. You want to feel more, encourage his probing fingers so you reach to the clasp on your back, unfastening the garment and removing it through the hem of your blouse.

Donghyuck can’t take his eyes off your chest, nipples hardened from your arousal and poking through the thin fabric. He takes his thumbs, the same thumbs that lit a fire in your belly earlier and flips the bud, toying it around and rubbing circles around it. The response from you is immediate, moans that start off soft and build up to a crescendo bouncing off the walls of his apartment.

It drives you crazy, a little bit, that smirk he has on his face now. It’s so familiar in between his features, you’ve seen it countless of times, especially during his typical teasings of you, yet is carries so much newfound weight now, so much sex appeal. He’s already giving you what you need but the climaxing is too slow for your liking, you want more and you want it now. You want what you asked him for in the lobby of this building.

Donghyuck can either read your mind or read through the increased frequency of your moans because he undresses down to his boxers, forming a trail of clothes from his living room to his bedroom, where he has led you. He doesn’t even bother to open the lights, relying on the moonlight from his window for lighting and pushing you down on his bedsheets.

He climbs up with you, hovering over you and you move back a bit so that your head rests comfortably over his pillows. If the smile he gave you earlier had affected you, then the hungry look on his face right now almost makes you come untouched, his eyes raking up and down your body as if he doesn’t know where to start.

He decides on your calves, kissing them and moving upwards slowly and sensually, not missing the sensitive skin on the side of your knees and paying extra attention to your inner thighs. He’s still at it a minute and a half later, and you can’t tell in the dark but you’re sure they must be decorated by bite marks by now, his close proximity to the source of your pleasure making you squirm in his hold.

It feels like ages since you last felt his fingers when he grips the soft meat of your thighs and spreads them apart. They soon move up to the hem of your skirt, rolling the fabric upwards and over your ass. You feel his breath against your pussy, making it tingle and twitch even more than it already has, and the wait feels like a new level of hell in Dante’s Inferno.

A single finger pets you over your underwear, drawing lines over the damp fabric from your clit down to your entrance and then up again. You whimper and whine at the sensation that is half a step from what you consider satisfactory and he hooks a finger on the black lace, moving it to the side and letting you experience the cool air of the room all over again. The full exposure brings heat to your face and you breathe through the embarrassment that arouses you even more.

“Hey, Donghyuck?”

“Yes?”

“Is your cat still alive?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

He licks one long stripe over your entrance, and you feel the goosebumps spreading all over your arms and legs. Nimble fingers spread your folds apart, and you hold your breath as he lets his cool spit drip from his lips and land onto your lower ones, then starts sucking over your clit. His tongue is wet and his breath is hot, the combination driving you insane. You grip the comforter, digging into it with your nails to keep yourself grounded.

“Oh my god, yes, right there”

The praise motivates him to keep trying hard, not that it will take a lot of effort to make you come undone. Donghyuck’s unprecedented touches and the newfound sexual tension they have ignited had already worked you up, his skill in oral accelerating the build up to your climax even more. And just when you thought it couldn’t get better than this he starts a series of kitten licks right over your clit, each one sending a wave of pleasure stronger than the one before.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum”

You’re grinding on his face, trying to find the right pace when you finally come undone, thighs shaking and desperately trying to push his hands away to cover up your sensitivity again. His hold is steady and he continues to lick you keenly, the lewd sound of him slurping your wetness filling the room. Your eyes open wide and you can only stare at his white ceiling during your overstimulation, the cracks and crumbling plaster caused from humidity looking like constellations in your orgasm-drunk mind. The second climax hits you suddenly but forcefully, unable to control the volume of your voice, not that you can hear yourself clearly in your daze. It’s an array of moans and screams and tiny whimpers of Donghyuck’s name, his beautiful symphony coming to life.

His appetite for you is finally satiated, and he decides to take mercy on you and remove his lips from your pulsating heat. You look so beautiful right now, he thinks, skin illuminated by the pale moonlight that is reflected on the wetness dripping from your pussy. He hovers over you again, pulling you into another kiss and you lazily reciprocate. His member is painfully hard, sliding over your slickness. You squirm and yelp everytime the fabric of his underwear grazes against your clit, your nerve endings screaming in sensitivity.

“I don’t have a condom on me”, you whisper against his lips, the taste of yourself on his tongue engaging you in the kiss again.

“I’m too tired to fuck you like you deserve anyways”

It would be criminal from you to leave him untouched like that. He looks so hot over you, messy hair and chin glistening in your juices. You absentmindedly place your nails on his collarbones, then scratch your way down over his navel. Donghyuck hisses at the numb stinging of pain, hips buckling against your pussy in the pursuit of some sort of friction.

You move your hand even lower, slipping your fingers past the waistband of his boxers. You move past the bristles you find and grasp his member, that is not too long but an impressive girth. You manage to free it from his underwear, and you can’t really tell in the dim lighting but you bet it must have turned a purple-ish red colour. It’s leaking.

“But we don’t have a condom”

You take one of his hands in yours, giving it a kiss to calm him down, then place it over your left boob. He toys with the mound of your chest, squeezing the softness. You had other plans for him.

Connecting your knees together, you let the softness of your thighs connect, with only maybe a slither of space between them. Your hands are still on Donghyuck’s cock and you reach to hold his balls, massaging them slightly and pulling him towards you.

He takes your cue and leans forward, sliding himself between your thighs. The moan he lets out is guttural and elongated, laced with the beautiful metallic tone of his voice. He lets go of your breasts and wraps his arms around your knees, putting your calves on each of his shoulders and continues to rut his hips against you.

“Fuck. This feels so good”

You look up to see Donghyuck’s face, contorted in a frown that can only be described as desperate, his lips puffy and red from all the licking and kissing and sucking.

He looks painfully sexy, and you momentarily imagine all the things you would do to him if the serotonin of your double orgasm and the alcohol in your belly weren’t weighing you down. You’d gladly stay up all night for him, tugging on his long hair as you’d let him bend you in any position he wanted. You bet that thickness would feel amazing stretching you out and you moan at the thought, your thighs flexing involuntarily and making him moan even more.

Soon he has picked up his pace, the tip of his cock reappearing between your thighs more frequently and you can feel his thrusts getting sloppier by the second.

“Fuck fuck, I’m coming”

He suddenly pushes forward, almost collapsing on top of you as a string of satisfactory groans leave his lips. His hips still with a stagger and you entrancingly watch the ropes of white dripping from his cock and landing on your blouse. It was a mess, but you can worry about it in the morning.

Donghyuck fucks your thighs slowly for a little longer, elongating his pleasure for as long as he can and soothing the crescent moons his nails formed on your skin with his fingertips. He reaches one hand to his bedroom floor where he finds a -what you hope is- clean t-shirt, and pats his cum off your blouse as best as he could.

It has gotten late and you’re both exhausted, Donghyuck’s comfortable weight on top of you lulling you to sleep. He’s hugging your hips now, head resting on your stomach and occasionally kissing your hip bones tenderly. You’re not sure when you slip out of consciousness but you do hear Donghyuck mumble something against your skin, something the kiss of Morpheus doesn’t allow you to make out.

You wake up to a white ceiling. Not just any white ceiling- a cracked, full of moisture pockets ceiling and you wonder when you let the humidity mess up your apartment this much. The culprit of your awakening, the morning sun rays that shine right on your eyes; way too bright than what you’re used to, force your eyelids to open, and it takes you a moment to adjust to the abundant light. This isn’t your apartment.

The sight of a man that greets your barely recovered rentinas shocks you, and you rub your eyes just in case you’re stuck in a lucid dream or something. You see the mess of ash blonde hair and the pile of work clothes discarded on the floor and your mind soon is flooded with last night’s events, buzzed out in your foggy memory. You sense another buzz as well, a physical one this time and you wiggle in place when you feel something hard and metallic digging in your butt. You prod a little with your fingers, trying not to wake up Donghyuck too abruptly and you realise that yes, you’ve been sitting on a phone all night.

Shouldn’t it be a Tuesday today? It’s very bright for it to be that early but surely Donghyuck must have set an alarm for the both of you last night. You yawn involuntarily, deciding to play with your phone until he wakes up as well when the bright white display pulls all the blood from your face.

8:40. You have to be at work in 20 minutes.

“Donghyuck! Hyuck!”

You didn’t care to make your touches light. They were shoves, really, pushing at his shoulders frantically to get him off of you and pull him out of his slumber. He wakes up with a gasp, trying desperately to keep his balance and failing, to then fall unceremoniously on the floor.

“What the hell?”, he groans out with a hoarse, groggy version of his voice, “My head is pounding”

“It will hurt even more once I’m done with you! You didn’t set an alarm last night? Today’s a work day!’

With his eyes bulging, he launches himself forward, grabbing the phone from your hands.

“Shit, shit, shit”. He’s fully awake now, hands rubbing his face to come up with the next logical steps to take, in order to have you both at work on time and looking presentable. “I have a mouthwash and hairbrush in my bathroom, I’ll get ready here”

“And what the fuck am I supposed to wear?”

“Yesterday’s clothes? Are you really that concerned about recycling an outfit right now?”

You roll your eyes, pushing your blouse down and dragging his comforter off your body.

“Did you forget about this?”

You straighten out the fabric for him to see, and the big, grossly dried out cum stains aren’t hard to notice. His face looks worried, but not necessarily apologetic, and you can almost see the scenes from the sex you shared last night play through his eyes like a porn film.

“Your skirt is fine, right? I’ll find a shirt that fits you”

You’re spitting out the fluorescent blue liquid when he timorously walks in the bathroom to leave the piece of clothing he promised. It smells heavily of those moth-repellent sachets and looks slightly wrinkled, like something he pulled out from the depths of his closet but you don’t really have the privilege of playing Suzy Menkes right now. You pull and tuck the fabric in creative ways, in order to style the garment into something you might walk into work wearing one day, yet it’s painfully obvious to you how misfitted it is; too big around the shoulders as one would expect from a man’s shirt.

You exit the bathroom after giving up, pressed by the limited time and the sound of Donghyuck’s uneasy steps through the door. You let him freshen up as well and use the time to collect your things that are scattered all over his place - he was kind enough to bring you your bra that was discarded in his living room floor along with his shirt - and soon you were rushing out of his house and into separate cabs so as not to raise suspicion.

The rest of the day was normal, well- according to this new definition of normalcy for you. Where everything and everyone seems to follow this movie script of what a typical company must look like, while you worry that someone will probe uninvitedly into your thoughts. God knows what they would fish out. A broken record player of Donghyuck’s moans when he cums, the burn of his thick sex rubbing against your thighs, the paths of his neck veins you memorized by heart.

You shake your head to clear it from the intrusive thoughts, and click the refresh button of your emails. The sound of keys being tapped and printers being put to use lands you back to reality, and you calmly click on the new incoming message from the Sales Department.

It was Johnny.

You’d think that after having his dick down your throat for about half a minute, getting butterflies in your stomach from the mere sight of his email address would stop being a recurring event for you. But alas, here they were, tapping their little wings in a flutter that turns into a hurricane of anxiety, and you sarcastically thank the universe for having to deal with Johnny while looking like an 80’s librarian.

You walk up the stairs like your ankle’s dragging a ball and a chain, the piece of paper in your hands getting slightly ripped from the abuse of your nervous fingers. It was a stupid document, barely half filled with any valuable information and you think it can’t be worth the calories you burned with that trip. It certainly wasn’t worth entering hell, aka mr. Suh’s office, and just the thought of him waiting for you in his fitted suit and gelled back hair is making you light headed. If Johnny was Hades then Donghyuck definitely was Cerberus, guarding his boss with his three heads and his big dick.

You leave a breath out when you realise he isn’t there, making your way onto Johnny’s office with lighter feet. He smiles brightly when he sees you, handsome as ever, and you carefully leave the document on his messy desk.

“Well, isn’t it my favourite intern”

You laugh at his sing-song tone, enjoying how warm he was being today.

“You used to avoid me like the plague and now I’m your favourite?”

“You always were my favourite”, he winks, and pushes back his hair like he knows the effect it has on you, “If someone is avoiding anyone like the plague that’s Donghyuck. I would have sent him to you but I can’t find him anywhere.”

You gulp dryly at his words, an invisible awl pinching your chest. You could feel Donghyuck slipping away from every place that you might share, in a very subtle way, but still noticeable from you. He left the kitchen hastily when you walked in to make your coffee, excused himself out of the lunch break through which you always kept him company, and now he was gone as well. Was last night such a big mistake in his point of view?

“I’m kidding, I just wanted to see you.”

He motions you to come closer and you timidly oblige, serenaded by the sound of his voice but not missing the hunger his eyes hold. He’s still seated in his big leather office chair, thighs spread out in a way that turned you on embarrassingly much, and you fit yourself in the space between his long legs.

“He is very jumpy though, Donghyuck. Do you know what happened to him?”

Your whole body tenses up, muscles hardening defensively. “Why would I know?”

“I don’t know. It’s just that you guys are so close.”

Close. Close as in having his knee between your thighs, close as in being pushed up against his chest and the elevator mirror. Close as in knowing how his tongue feels massaging your clit.

“Have I seen you in that before?”

You’re confused with the sudden question and when you search for the context you realise he’s talking about your- Donghyuck’s shirt. Did he smell the sex on you? The overwhelming scent of pheromones and Donghyuck’s cologne that your nose just couldn’t ignore?

“I don’t think so”, you try to answer as nonchalantly as possible, “it’s new.”

“No”, Johnny insists, and pinches the fabric with his fingers. He’s very knowledgeable about fashion, always complimenting you on your outfit choices and you know he wouldn’t let this one go so easily. “I’m sure I’ve seen this before.”

You follow his line of sight towards the ivory fabric too, as if you expected there to be written “YOUR ASSISTANT GAVE ME THE BEST HEAD OF MY LIFE LAST NIGHT”, in a bright red marker. It was a prison, in the form of 99% cotton and 1% pure anxiety, and you know you had to distract Johnny out of this subject one way or the other.

“You like it?”, you ask seductively, tucking a stray piece of hair behind his ear.

“I’d like you better without it.”

With just one strong, yet calculated pull he has you sat over the length of his thigh. Your hands land on his chest for stability, right over his pecks that fill your palms easily. There’s nothing you want more than to suck on those perfectly sculpted lips of his, but you’re not too faithful on Donghyuck’s mouthwash so you settle for the earlobe that isn’t pierced instead.

He loves the feeling, the activation of his erogenous area and the suction of your lips that resembles one of your favourite activities together.

“I like this shirt”, he starts, unbuttoning your chest into plain view, “and I love this skirt”

He runs his big hands over the plumpless of your ass, squeezing it then retracting his fingers back on your thighs. They’re cold against your burning skin and the contrast causes goosebumps to erupt in the shape of his handprint.

“You love all my skirts Johnny”

“I do. Because I can do this”

His fingers roll the hem of your skirt up your thigh, the only thing separating your heat with the smooth fabric of his slacks being your skimpy underwear. You’re pretty sure the wetness must be transferring to it already, your thoughts of Donghyuck and all the things he could do with you having you desperate for a release. Johnny pets your clit over your panties then, just a light graze of his finger that elicits a moan from you.

Your hips move on their own, slowly humping his thigh that flexes from under you. You grab his tie to help your movement when your pace picks up, enjoying his body heat that coated you.

“Someone might see us.”

His desk chair was large, sure, but so was Johnny, and even though his back was facing the door of his office, no one could mistake the sight of you riding him as anything else.

“I told you, Donghyuck keeps disappearing. And it seems like it won’t take you too long to cum with the way you moan like that, right babe?”

“Johnny…”

You were a whiny mess at this point, humping his leg to reach your high. He was nice enough to help you, his hands guiding you as you mess up all over him, lips stuck on the patch of skin right under your ear.

“You know, I kind of miss you calling me Mr. Suh.” he whispers as he’s sucking on your neck, and you shiver at the tone of his voice, “What do I have to do next time you come over to have you call me like that?”

You can’t contain your whimpers anymore, the stinging tears of arousal threatening to roll down your face, so you close your eyes to keep the moisture in. Everything is just too much, the pleasure of your clit rubbing on him, his nails that dig in the flesh of your hips, the heavy suggestions in his words; your orgasm was hanging by a thread and it was a matter of seconds for it to snap. And it did snap, with a bite on your neck, and along with it your eyes snapped open as well.

Donghyuck was staring right back at you.

Your eyes crossed in pleasure, blurry vision making it hard to focus on him. You were falling apart over Johnny’s body, legs shaking and insides melting with his praise. Donghyuck took the sight in from the opened door, eyes studying your face of pleasure and bare chest decorated with Johnny’s kisses peeking from his own shirt. You’d be lying had you dismissed the fact that his presence intensified your orgasm times a hundred. The exposure of your act, the naughtiness of getting caught and by him of all people. You watched as he retreated outside from the office with silent steps, to give you privacy or recover from the embarrassment or both.

And Donghyuck would be lying too, had he said he didn’t like the sight. The mere memory of your face all fucked out flushed his own in crimson red. He remembered it all clearly, from your plush lips to Johnny’s mess of a hair, to the tremble of your body. It refused to leave his mind, the scene of you getting satisfaction from another man, but not because he wanted to erase it. He thought he fit right in, right in that scene between you and his boss.

You texted him later that day, apologizing for what he had to witness and promising him you would return the shirt as soon as you washed it. He politely allowed you to keep it, not at all acknowledging the incident from earlier, nor the night you spent together. You didn’t have the guts to ask, for you didn’t know that Donghyuck didn’t regard last night as a mistake, like you thought. He was tired of boiling in the guilt of his feelings, selfishly admitting to himself that he did not regret a single thing. He was into you, he meant every word that came out of his mouth, so why was he avoiding you all day yesterday? He was still the fucking coward.

The next day came rolling along, and with it came a long list of things you wanted to avoid. The first one was arguably dealing with your best friend, the lengthy paperwork you had to fill out being a close second.

Your mind was occupied with a plethora of thoughts, with Johnny holding the main spot. You’d seen him in your sleep last night, starring in the extremely detailed wet dream your brain fabricated for you, hot breaths and deep thrusts forcing you into the disappointing consciousness of today’s morning.

And the pictures he had sent you right after you decided to get up weren’t helping either. His tall, half naked build occupied most of the shot, skin glistening in the after-shower steam. His toothbrush was hanging from his foamy mouth, in an attempt to make the picture look nonchalant, yet you knew his motives. You let your eyes drink up the sight of his defined abdomen, then moved downwards along the dark happy trail that peeked from the towel, loosely hanging from his waist. Hip bones teasing you and all. Just drop the fucking towel Johnny.

Needless to say, you were a mess when you arrived at the office. The cats in heat outside of your window, the phallic shaped baguette your baker generously treated you with this morning; everything seemed to remind you of the heat between your legs that you couldn’t bring yourself to ignore. You tried rubbing your thighs, drowning in the paperwork, even locking your phone in one of your drawers so as not to be tempted to look at Johnny’s thirst trap again. But he had won.

You grab a bunch of documents that seemed important enough, shove them in your favourite binder, and make your way to Johnny’s office upstairs.

You knew you had to deal with Donghyuck. It was the unavoidable repercussion of messing up your life like that, getting men that were too good looking for this boring ass company tangled up in what seemed to be a simple internship. Taking a deep breath, then two more for good measure, you start to strut confidently in a straight line that led to Johnny’s office door.

“He’s on call, come back later.”

Your head instinctively turns to the source of the sound, to find Donghyuck staring at the display of his laptop that seemed to be much more interesting than you. The matter-of-fact way he formed his sentences was not unlike him, yet something in you begged for a little bit of attention. Blame it on how horny you’ve been all morning, or the fact that now that you’ve seen him naked, the strict tone affects you much more than it should.

Bothered by your thoughts and thinking about having to sit back at your office for the rest of the work day, you let the binder slip from your hands and drop on the wooden floor. You lean down to collect the scattered pieces of paper, your heels making it hard for you to keep your balance easily, and soon enough you sense a movement from behind you.

“No panties huh?”

It was supposed to be a surprise. Payback for the dirty thoughts Johnny planted in your head this morning. You’d walk in all innocently, sit right across his desk and give him a little Basic Instinct Sharon Stone moment. Then leave him high and dry again, while mentally keeping a note to clear out all your plans for the weekend. But see, he couldn’t give you what you wanted after all, and your resolve started to break. Whatever it was you wanted, you wanted it now.

You get up, unfolding your body slowly and refusing to look at Donghyuck, much like he did when you walked inside. The smirk playing on your lips couldn’t be concealed through your voice.

“Like what you see?”

You gasp as he presses up against you, the only contact you have with one another being his hard-on that nudges your ass. Following your body’s orders, you push back against him too, and you can tell the breath he lets out is ragged and full of tension.

He reaches for your binder with an arm around you, flipping through the pages as he sucks his teeth in disapproval.

“These are last week’s reports. Are you really here for these or are you looking for another quickie with Johnny?” A moan escapes you then, and the little thrust that Donghyuck allows himself drives you both crazy. “Thought so. How insatiable are you? I made you cum two nights ago, Johnny helped you out yesterday. If you really are that desperate you could’ve just come to me for help, doll”

His soft palm rests on the front of your thigh, slowly sliding his way under your skirt. You squirm in his hold in anticipation, and you have to bite your tongue to hold in the noises that threaten to leave you.

“Donghyuck, Johnny is sitting right through that door. He could come out any minute now and see us”

“And?”

“Your boss is sitting right through that door. You could get fired”

“I could die after this”

His thumb ficks your clit swiftly, and Donghyuck takes this opportunity to slip his other one inside your gaping mouth.

“But-“

“Shh. Don’t talk with your mouth full, baby”

You’re melting in his hold at this point, your back still resting against his chest, lips sucking his digit. The scent of his cologne that you’ve grown so familiar with overwhelms you, painting all your surroundings in a red tint of lust.

“Spread your legs for me”. You oblige with his orders immediately, your arousal not allowing you to keep him waiting. “Wider”.

You take a quick look behind your shoulder to check that the door is still, indeed, closed, only to be met face to face with Donghyuck. His breath is hot against your face, eyes locked on his thumb toying with your lower lip and you completely forget what you initially turned around for. The kiss was natural, your lips melding easily with his ones. The need for him washes over you like a heatwave and you lift your skirt to urge him to continue before you go insane.

He gets the hint and moves his hand lower, middle finger tracing your opening ever so slightly. It makes you shiver and you realise how quiet the room has fallen, the only source of sound coming muffled through the closed door to Johnny’s office. It excites you and it must show through the wetness between your lower lips, and Donghyuck patiently collects it all. He transfers the moisture over the bud of your clit, his finger smoothly massaging the sensitive skin. It feels divine and there’s no way you’d ask him to stop yet you know there’s something else Donghyuck is after, the sweet tightness that he didn’t get to experience that night at his apartment.

It was a bit much to fuck you out there like that, even for his exhibitionistic tendencies, but nothing could stop him from feeling the next best thing.

His first finger enters you unhurriedly, careful of your reactions. You moan out his name and he moans at how tight you are, soft pussy practically sucking his finger in. He soon enters his ring finger as well, slowly moving them inside you until you feel every stretch and curl. Your wetness starts to drip at this point, coating his fingers with your juices.

“Such a dirty girl, making all this mess at my office”

The leisure pace ruins you, your eyes shut close in search of patience. You feel his other palm move from under your skirt as well, resting flat against your lower abdomen. He wants to feel himself inside you.

“Donghyuck, please. More”

A chuckle is heard from your left ear, and you can vividly imagine how his face must look like now. The cocky smirk, the tongue poking the inside of his cheek. The next pump has you muffling your whimpers with the back of your fist, his fingers curling just right and fucking straight into your g-spot.

“More? Look at you. Pretty slut.”

He’s full on finger fucking you now, and swallowing your moans is gradually becoming more and more difficult. The world crumbles from under your feet and you let yourself get carried away in the intense pleasure, the fast pumping making your legs shake.

“You’re gonna cum?”, he whispers again, and you can only respond with a nod, “That’s my fucking girl”

The orgasm’s intense, shaking you as you bite your hand and hold onto Donghyuck for extra support. He continues to move his fingers afterwards, drawing out your euphoria for as long as he can, then finally leaves you empty once your moans have died down. You immediately cover yourself up again once you sober up from your high, suddenly embarrassed by Donghyuck’s intense stare. He’s moving his eyes through all the features of your face, only for them to fall frozen on your lips, and lifts his hand up to rest his two fingers over them. You get his initiative and put them in your mouth, tasting yourself on your tongue.

“Unless you want us both to get fired I think you should go back to your office. I don’t think I can contain myself around you”

You release his digits with a pop, your eyes full of seduction.

“What would you do to me?”

Donghyuck growls at your question, turning you around so that you’re fully face to face and chest to chest.

“You’d look so pretty on your knees, mouth full of cock”. He grabs a handful of your ass, bringing you flush against him and proceeds to grind his painfully hard dick between your thighs. Your noses touch and you feel dizzy at the proximity; the words he mutters against your cum coated lips. “I’d peel those clothes off of you, find the nearest mirror. Stretch you out against the glass so that you see how good you take it.”

You shiver as a response, then force yourself to put some distance between you before you do something stupid. He kindly helps you collect your things in silence, those useless documents that were laying scattered on the floor, and in a moment of weakness you let him pin you against the wall right before you go.There was something so addictive about him and your chemistry, and your lips burn at the memory of his kisses. You’re not sure how much longer you can contain that hunger anymore.

The end of a shift and the beginning of another overtime. It felt like deja vu at this point, after all the countless extra hours you’ve put into the internship, seeing people grab their briefcases and their car keys as they empty the space around you. You take a moment to appreciate the view of the setting sun from the small window of your office, inhaling deeply as you wrap the hair that’s been bothering you in a ponytail. Your neck hurts and the tension of your body is translating into a dull pain, so you stretch it a little, bobbing your head from side to side.

You jump a little in your seat when you feel a set of hands on your shoulder blades. They massage the sore spots, treating the muscle knots and helping your blood flow freely. It was obvious Donghyuck didn’t have enough of you earlier, and you pout at having to turn down another visit to his apartment because of your overtime duties.

You were ready to scold him off, tell him you’re busy and that you promise to make it up for him another time, when you feel his soft lips kissing the most sensitive spot on the slope of your neck. You let out a long sigh, subconsciously exposing your neck more for him, and a high pitched whine rumbles in your chest. It’s released as a moan of Donghyuck’s name.

“Donghyuck?!”

You freeze in the uncomfortable arch, your ears confused by the deepness of the voice belonging to the man behind you. Not even the confusion laced in it can cover up the lack of airiness and clarity you’re used to when it comes to Donghyuck’s tone. It’s Johnny.

“I… We-“

You’re left speechless, clueless as to what to say next. You know you don’t have to explain yourself, it’s not like you and Johnny are exclusive. Yet his shocked face at the sound of his assistant’s name coming so lewdly off your lips has your brain scrambling to find some sort of explanation. Thankfully, he’d interrupt your panic in a second.

“The big boss wants you upstairs. I offered to come get you.”

He doesn’t sound angry or upset, nor disappointed. It’s a fresh air of relief before you realize that this is not what you should worry about right now. What the hell does the CEO of the company want to talk to you about? Are you getting the boot? It must be it, but why? Your numbers have been great, you’re always on time - except that one morning, but technically it was Donghyuck’s fault - and you’ve been praised by your supervisor numerous times during your internship.

Unless- What if there’s cameras in the office?

You start to panic at the thought of an involuntary sex tape become the cause of your dismissal, so caught up in your thoughts that you’re completely unaware you’ve spent the entire trip up the stairs with Johnny in silence. When you enter the CEO’s office, heartbeat echoing loudly in your ears, you notice that all of the department’s supervisors are present in the impromptu meeting as well. You sit next to Johnny, in an attempt to calm yourself down, and you see the head of your department send you an encouraging smile.

“Shall we start?”

A briefing of your work in the company ensued, numbers and graphs that wouldn’t make sense to anyone other than the people in the room. Thirty minutes have passed and no surveillance tape has been whipped out, turning you more confused than ever. The numbers were good, the words from your supervisor are complimentary, so why would they fire you?

“That is all for the briefing. After seeing your progress and the contribution you’ve made to the company, we’ve decided to offer you a permanent position, if you’d be interested of course”

Oh my god. You can’t believe this day finally came. Your face was glowing, and you tried to convince yourself to stay calm while you talked about your new position and the raise in salary that came with it. With shaky hands you sign the documents, and your boss congratulates you once again, dismissing you off your overtime.

You waited for everyone to leave the hallway before jumping in Johnny’s arms. He caught you easily, strong build supporting you and lifting your feet off the ground before landing you safely again.

“Good job intern, I’m so proud of you”

“Hey, I’m not an intern anymore!”, you complain by bumping his chest with your fist and he pats your head lovingly in return.

“Why did you have to be in the room as well? Did you know about my promotion?”

“No, actually, they just told me an hour ago. It was hard to keep myself from telling you everything right away.”

The excitement coursed through you, and a sudden urge to kiss him until your lips were numb overwhelmed you. You were ready to turn your thoughts into reality, when you saw Donghyuck from the corner of your eye, instinctively smiling at your obvious happiness.

“What’s the occasion?”

“I got promoted!”

Donghyuck gasped, a huge smile spreading across his face. Your excitement’s contentious so he tackles you without a second thought, his embrace so tight that you can barely breathe. You can see that he’s trying his best to contain a kiss, his glance moving back and forth between you and Johnny. He still kept a possessive hand around your waist once he let you down however, a gesture that could seem innocent yet you knew better.

Johnny smirks at the sight of you two, confidence dripping off his body and making you shiver. You get dizzy at the thought of Donghyuck not knowing that Johnny knows about you, yet Donghyuck knowing about Johnny but not giving a fuck.

“So how do we celebrate?”, the older man asks, with a playful tone that might as well be your active imagination.

“Wanna go for a drink?”, Donghyuck suggests, boldly keeping his eyes at you only while he does so.

You pout in thought, humming pensively when an idea pops into your head.

“How about you come over my place for one?”

You should have thought this through more thoroughly, is all you can think about as you’re trapped between Johnny and Hyuck on your couch. Well, not really- there is a sizable distance between you three, yet the atmosphere in the room is so dense it’s nearly palpable. Three glasses, half-full of the alcohol of their choice are sitting on the coffee table in front of you, and you awkwardly stare at the sweat that falls from your glass and forms rings on the wooden surface.

Your body has loosened up from your drink yet your heart can’t stop racing, not when Donghyuck is looking at you like that. He looks like a man starved for days while you’re the meal presented deliciously in his arm’s reach, and he can’t wait to have you alone and curve his growing appetite. And you ignore Johnny’s cheeky smiles and flirtatious winks as well, carrying on a conversation that doesn’t belong in the inescapable tone of the room but flows easily, until it ends and you’re met with heavy silence and the ticking analog clock on your wall again.

You ask them if they would like some water, getting up before you receive an answer, and you yelp a little when you feel a strong arm halting your trip to the kitchen before it even started. You lose your balance and wobble a little in your spot before unceremoniously landing on Johnny’s lap.

He doesn’t help you up, but loops and arm around your waist instead, holding you in place. In circumstances other than the ones that have already made their mark on your sexual history, staying in this position with his assistant still in the room would be highly inappropriate.

“You’re all we need”, he reassures you with a voice made of silk, then repositions you with a jerk of his knee, your heat grinding right against his half hard member.

“When were you gonna tell me?”

You open and close your mouth sequentially like a fish out of water, choking out a reply after the insistent tick-tock that resonates through the room and gives a tempo to your anxiety.

“I’m sorry?”

“You know what I’m talking about. A little birdy told me I’m not the only one enjoying this perfect little body. Is that right Donghyuck?”

Donghyuck’s eyes bulged out of his skull, almost choking in the sip of the drink he was enjoying when the unexpected question hit him. Sizzling heat floods your face as he stares at you sternly, and you shake your head defensively.

“I didn’t tell him-“

“Well no, not exactly”, Johnny interrupts and places his big hands over your thighs, “I was just kissing her neck, trying to get her to relax, and lo and behold, she starts moaning your name like its a fucking reflex. You’ve really gotten into her head, apparently”

Donghyuck swells up in pride, that much is evident, yet he’s way too distracted to say anything in response, too busy staring at Johnny’s fingers spreading your thighs apart to expose your damp underwear. Johnny’s lips are planted on your neck, teeth nibbling on your earlobe and you wince when you feel the sharp sting of a slap on your inner thigh.

“You aren’t being a good hostess, baby. Open up your legs more, let Hyuck see your pretty pussy. You remember what word to say when you want me to stop, right?” You whimper the designated safe word while opening your thighs further, digging the heels of your feet in the couch’s pillows. “Good girl”

He dips a hand through the band of your underwear, busying his fingers under the fabric. You moan as they slide through the wetness and he smiles a cocky smile when he sees Donghyuck palming himself through his slacks. He removes the skimpy thong with the help of your hips moving to assist him, to then push the fabric inside your mouth with little to no resistance from you.

“Isn’t this pussy divine? I swear when I bottomed out inside of her the first time I thought I lost my damn mind”

He toys with your opening, only dipping half a finger in to challenge Donghyuck to pay attention.

“We haven’t actually…”

“She only let you play with her?”, Johnny teases him, then pushes his point and middle finger all the way inside you, making his assistant’s imagination run wild at what your pussy must feel like sucking him in. “You’re missing out man”

“I’ve made her cum probably twice as many times as you’ve ever have”

You chuckle at his smart remark and Johnny glares at you, softly slapping your pussy to keep you at bay.

“No one addressed you. You’ll get to make all the noise you want in a sec, baby”

You squirm in place, letting out a muffled apology through your gag and Donghyuck looks seriously affected by the sight.

“Isn’t she obedient?”, Johnny asks while grazing your g-spot, and you moan from both the praise and the stimulation.

Hyuck unbuttons his pants at the lewd sound, pulling his dick from the slit of his boxers and you admire his impressive girth. He lets his body decline comfortably on the pillows behind him, spreading his own legs at shoulder-length. The mouth-watering sight of him jerking himself slowly with the aid of his precum clouds your vision; you’re just as needy for him as he is for you.

“She’s a little brat”

“I guess I know how to make her listen”. Johnny lifts your dress over your hips, then helps you off of it through the hem. With a rehearsed flick of his fingers he discards your bra as well, leaving you completely naked for Donghyuck’s eyes to feast on. His hands immediately grope your breasts, playing with the mounds and putting on a show. “I could undress you over and over and over again”

You feel his fingers retract from inside your pussy to form a ‘V’ over your lower lips, making your hole even more visible along with the wetness that’s dripping out of it.

“Will you let Donghyuck use your pussy baby? I feel a little greedy using it all on my own”

You groan in the anticipation and let your head fall back on Johnny’s shoulder, nodding pathetically and mumbling through your thong.

“Oh god, yes, yes, yes”

Donghyuck has heard enough, and with Johnny urging him on he’s standing half naked in front of you in seconds. His boxers are discarded next to his trousers on the floor, tie hanging loosely from the collar. He still has a hand wrapped around his angry sex, red tip and veiny details making you swoon.

“Go on”, Johnny encourages him, “she’s more than wet enough”

Donghyuck rests his left knee on the cushion of the couch, right between your foot and Johnny’s thigh. A little foiled square is getting ripped by his nimble fingers and you bewitchedly watch him wrap up his cock. He slaps it over your entrance a couple times, coming in contact with the other man’s fingers that are still keeping you fully exposed, then finally thrusts himself inside you. A conglomerate of what seems like three different curses leave his lips, eyebrows furrowed in a pleasureful expression.

“Fuck”

“Tight, isn’t she?”

“So fucking tight baby, damn”

Johnny may have a cock so lengthy that most men are envious of, yet Donghyuck’s girth is really something else. It stretches you out more than you've had in months, dull pain getting numb with every release of serotonin from your brain. You almost cry when he removes the entire thing out of you.

“I have to feel that again”

And indeed he does, submerging himself in the tightness of your walls only his fingers had the privilege of experiencing thus far. You feel amazing wrapped up around him, pussy hot and burning in desire as he dips himself further inside you, pushing you up against Johnny’s chest. You hiss in the sting and whimper softly, prompting the man behind you to ungag you finally.

“What is it baby? Hyuckie’s dick is too big for your tight little hole?”

You nod affirmatively while keeping eye contact with the man mentioned, big glossy eyes awakening something dark inside him. He wants to ruin you.

“Maybe you don’t fuck her hard enough”

You can’t see Johnny from the way you’re seated but you know he must have a smile on his face, well aware of the confidence he possesses for his own abilities in the bedroom. His big hands leave your labia and make their way over to your calves, bending you in a way that is almost painful.

“How about you show me how it’s done, then?”

Donghyuck is always up for a challenge, so he wraps a hand loosely around your throat so as to gain leverage. He pulls his hips backwards, gaining momentum, then slaps them forcefully against your own. You moan loudly at the depth, hands scrambling to find something to hold on to as he’s nailing you against the couch. Johnny’s there to catch your sounds with his lips, eating them up eagerly as he slips his tongue inside you and continues to play with your nipples.

“Is that hard enough for you?”

Continuing his brutal pace restlessly, Donghyuck tightens his grasp around your neck, enough to hamper your blood flow and drool around the other man’s mouth. You’re so out of it at this point, dirty sound after another leaving your lips and you gasp at Johnny’s fingers that are suddenly circling around your clit.

“I’m close, please”, you manage to whimper from between them, Hyuck’s pace only fastening in the sound of your plea. The tip of his cock, thick like the rest of him, grazes against your sensitive spot again and again, not missing a single thrust. He digs a thumb in the softness of your cheek, pulling you away from Johnny and connecting his forehead with yours. By the sounds of his grunts it won’t take long until he comes as well.

“Made just for me”, he whispers against your lips, and you gasp when you feel the heat overflowing in your sex area, vision blurry as you let go and scream in complete pleasure. Donghyuck basks in the confirmation of how good he’s made you feel, hips stuttering as he empties his cum in you and inside the condom. His thigh muscles may be contracting in tiredness yet he doesn’t halt his movements, milking your orgasm for all its worth. You’re basically putty in Johnny’s lap at this point, sex drunk and high from your release.

“Not bad”, he admits, even though he had some credit to claim with the fast fingerwork he showed earlier. He holds your thighs again, closing them up to help you relax and you wince at the pain in your haunch, the result of staying in a flexibility-demanding position for so long.

You wait until your heartbeat slows down, turning around to face Johnny as Donghyuck ties up and discards the used condom. He sends you a warm smile, petting the messy hair out of your line of sight and you relax in the feeling of safety, batting your eyes up at him cutely.

“What about you?”, you practically meow, moaning softly as you feel his boner twitching from beneath his trousers.

“What about me? Didn’t you have enough?”

He knows your appetite, knows there’s no way you’d be satisfied by one round only. And how could you, when he sits so deliciously from under you, his big body reeling you in. You know what he wants to hear.

“Please, Johnny”, you plead, playing with the thin tie still neatly keeping his shirt in place. “I need you”

“You need what?”, he growls against your lips, trying to coax as much desperation out of you as possible.

“I need your big cock inside me, please”

“Ass up”

You get up from your seat, complying with his commands and getting on your knees before your tired legs betray you and leave you a mess on the floor. His hands cup your ass in admiration, giving it a little spank before he slides them over your dorsals. A careful push forces you to arch your back even more, and your cheeks burn at the eager position he has bent you in. You shiver when his cock enters you halfway.

“You’re still not used to me babe?”

“It’s not my fault that you’re so fucking big, Johnny”

“Then maybe I should stay still? Since you can’t take it?”

“No!”, you oppose, tears of frustration threatening to spill out of their ducts, “I can take it, just move!”

You howl as he bottoms out, his long length making you lose your mind. It’s been a while since you’ve had anything more than his fingers and you’ve missed the way he fits inside of you. You hear shuffling from behind you and soon he’s bending over you, wrapping his tie around your neck. With a pull you’re flush against his chest again, and the buttons of his shirt are already leaving little indentations on your skin. You wish it bruises.

“Do you remember what I wanted you to call me the other day?”, he whispers next to the shell of your ear, dark tone sending shivers down your spine.

“Mr. Suh”

“Exactly. Now will you let me fuck you the way I want?”

“Yes sir”

“What a good girl”

Johnny slams into you fully, every pull of his hips resulting in the restriction of your airflow. A game of wanting more of him and sacrificing your oxygen for it begins, and it doesn’t take long for you to turn completely into a submissive mess for him. He’s whispering filth in your ears, hips keeping their inhuman tempo until you’re all out of energy and fall nonvocal. Donghyuck gets hard again at the sight.

It doesn’t go unnoticed by Johnny, who is more than willing to share your body for the pleasure he’s after- at least part of it. He waits until the younger man’s dick is fully solid in his grasp, standing tall and red right in front of you and he lets go of the constraint of your neck without notice.

You fall face first on Donghyuck’s thick thighs, his quick reflexes catching you from a harder impact. His member is twitching right next to your face, tip grazing against your left temple and he helps your head up by wrapping your hair in a makeshift ponytail that his fingers hold together. You wrap your lips around his tip obediently, twirling your tongue around his member until you reach his hairy base. He tastes a bit rubbery from the condom earlier but you choose to ignore it, focusing on hollowing your cheeks around him instead.

Every hard thrust of Johnny’s propels you forward onto Donghyuck’s cock, the bobbing motion natural yet you struggle to take them both inside you. Donghyuck enjoys the vibrations of the moans you make when the other man hits a deep spot in your pussy, Johnny groans when you clench around him as Donghyuck abuses your throat. It’s a give and take of intense pleasure and you know you can’t take much more, the men’s moans growing louder with every thrust.

“Do you like Hyuck’s cock needy baby? Have you finally had enough?”

He punctuates each word with a slam, one harder than the other, and the rope inside your belly snaps with the arrival of your second orgasm. You try your hardest to stay in place, beg your thighs not to let you collapse as you let Johnny drive you into overstimuation.

“Yes, sir. I love it”

Johnny grunts at the sound of his title, so dirty coming muffled by another man’s dick that it’s enough to send him over the edge. You feel the hot cum filling up the condom inside you, and his spurts take so long that the little tweaks coax another orgasm from you.

Donghyuck drinks up the scene unveiling in front of him, a steady hand forcing your jaw open as he starts to jerk off quickly over your face.

“I want to see your tongue covered in my cum”

You lick your lips seductively in response, opening your mouth up to welcome his ropes of white liquid that leave his slit a second after. They fill your mouth little by little, painting the inside of it and you hold your tongue out to show him his creation, a couple of drops dripping from the corners before you swallow as much as you can. He collects whatever’s left on your jaw, pushing it in and letting you suckle on his thumb dumbly before letting go.

You collapse on the couch, exhausted after giving all that your body could handle after a work day, and you sit in silence as Johnny massages your feet and Donghyuck kisses your neck to calm you down. Your head hurts from the sex and the possibilities that this new combination can bring to your love life, belly tingling in excitement at the same time. You don’t know where this will lead, or when will be the next time you’ll indulge in the company of the both of them stuck on your body. All that you know is that this promotion, at least the celebration of it, tastes really, really sweet.

thank you for reading ❤ feedback is much appreciated! If you liked Promotion you can check out Work for it to see where it all started! :)

#neosmutcollective #neowritingsnet #johnny suh #johnny suh smut #lee haechan #haechan smut #donghyuck smut #johnny suh x reader #haechan x reader #nct smut #nct #nct 127 #nct dream #johnny seo smut #johnny seo #johnny nct smut #haechan nct smut #nct dream smut

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banqdanfnfic · 4 years

Text

which, as they kiss, consume | jjk

you just wanted to get a tattoo from your boyfriend

pairing: tattoo artist!jk x reader

genre: established relationships au, tattoo artist au, smut

word count: 4k

warnings: unprotected sex, biting, making out, grinding, licking, nipple play, jk has a lip ring, oral (f receiving), fingering, shy jk and oc, sexual tension, slight choking, slight aftercare

♫ : Streets by Doja Cat, Candy by Doja Cat

♡ Aesthetics: Playlist | Moodboard

He visibly chokes on his glass of beer as he almost snaps his neck to meet your gaze. He could say that you were awfully drunk and hence the sudden confession out of the blue, but behind your heavy lidded eyes, Jungkook could sense that you were serious.

“You what?”, he gulps abruptly, moving closer to your face, doe eyes pleading to repeat yourself.

“Yes Kook. I want that tattoo on my breasts. I’ve decided”.

It’s not that Jungkook didn’t have experience in his career with inking on different parts of a human body. He just had never given a tattoo to someone who is romantically associated with him and the thought of seeing you half naked made him chuck down the rest of his drink in one go.

The most physical he had ever gotten with you was a kiss shared occasionally since it’s only been over two weeks you had started dating. Okay maybe you made out once in his car but that’s it. It never got to the point of shedding clothes or anything intense.

“Are you sure?”

You giggle at the sudden hoarseness in his voice and nod positive. Ironic how his aura never matched his personality. His inked skin, athletic body proportions covered in black monochrome bad boy outfits gave out default energy that he is a local heartthrob with multiple chicks wrapped around his finger each night and a heavy demeanor to carry in his smirk.

You were one of those believers until Jungkook asked you out in the most hopeless romantic way possible after constantly visiting the café you work in, a few shops besides his parlor. He was a gentleman with respectful boundaries, warm hands to hold yours and sweet sensual kisses though you are pretty sure he probably has a good game.

For any outsider it looked like those cliché bad boy and shy girl love stories, but for real both of you were a good percentage of introverts.

Jungkook runs his tongue around his lip ring while he is stressfully ruffling his dark locks into a mess. He is trying to explain his reasons to postpone your decision considering how shy he got at this point. But then that’s exactly why you were requesting him with soft eyes, it would be so uncomfortable to be shirtless in front of anybody else. Or maybe it’s your way of saying the relationship is open for higher levels of physical affection.

After debating around in vain, he finally hums and clears one of his slots for his beloved client.

Friday approaches way quicker than you assumed and now your heart is beating in your throat. Right after you are done cleaning the tables, you have to make it to Jungkook’s parlor for your appointment.

Running on three hours of sleep, black under eyes even after a decent amount of makeup, you groan as you check yourself out in the mirror. You opted for a simple shirt and skirt (also known as the outfit you bought for occasions with Jungkook), light beach waves resting on your shoulders. Hoping that a few cups of coffee will save you, you stride across the street to stop before the infamous parlor he worked in. Hopefully the full body shave and chocolate body butter has kept its excellence on your skin below the clothing.

The door chimes as it opens with a dragged creak on the musky wooden flooring. It felt like an otherworld where air smelled like men’s perfume and faint tint of cigarettes. In other words, intoxicating.

You ask the first person you meet at the reception, one of Jungkook’s companions at the shop and he assists you to his cabin located at a comfortably remote location.

His space is hidden with a simple black curtain. You are met with Jungkook’s back facing you, working determinately on a client’s arm and cares to spare a glance only when the guy with you is informing him about your presence.

“This will be over in a few”, he grins to your face and goes back to focusing his coil on the skin of a woman in her late twenties laying down his chair. The vibration from his inking machine fills in the silence and you excuse yourself to sit on a small black couch beside them.

This was the first time watching him at work and now you can understand why people rumored so much about his attitude because damn it is intimidating.

Brows knit together and inked muscles flex as he drags the needles around for finishing touches. Meanwhile you can pretty much smell the drool from the woman who is shamelessly checking out your boyfriend. Though you are pretty sure Jungkook gets such glances more than he can count every day, you can’t help but feel jealous. Partly because of the childish possessiveness and partly because you want to be the reason behind his dark eyes and intricate concentration, in profession or not.

To stop from mentally throwing daggers on the client’s way, you grab a random fashion magazine from the side table and flip through pages, though other four senses are inclined on your man. With a close attention to his low sigh you conclude that he is done.

The customer with now a fresh tattoo on her arm is discussing random useless topics to get him to talk, a very vain job realizing how Jungkook doesn’t bat a friendly lash at anybody, especially to those who hit on him. To be honest a large part of the ink business was linked with the obsession to attractive people who worked here, even if it meant trading an area of your skin. You grip the edges of the magazine a bit hard, not able to contain the sanity particularly at the high pitch voice she mumbles in before finally leaving his cabin.

A little excited and a lot nervous, you stand up as Jungkook bids goodbye to the third person.

He is quick to notice your discomfort, though not sure if it was the woman or the thought of finally getting the tattoo, he knew you were nervous and surviving in several cups of espresso by the dark circles slowly showing through the faded layers of your concealer. But nothing pulls down the opinion he has about you, beautiful and simple, no dramatics attached.

“Hey are you okay?”

You nod as soon as you sit down on the black tattoo chair, shifting a little to find a comfortable position. He is taking out a box full of equipment and fine needles, already making you break a sweat at the side of your forehead.

But more than that, it’s the way he is sharp and professional that catches your attention more.

You have never seen Jungkook this serious before. The choice of his vetiver perfume digging through your nostrils was driving you insane. If he doesn’t smile soon, you are going to melt into a puddle at his gaze.

“Are you nervous?”, he smirks this time, a newfound reason for your worsening gut health.

It’s mostly going in cycles at this point. Every bit of his skilled motion causes a vigorous hormonal reaction which initiates his next set of effortless teasing.

“I’m a little nervous”, you say, fiddling with your freshly painted nude nails.

“Me too”

It’s something you least expect to come out of his mouth observing how confident he looks right now. He basically has you cornered with his gaze. But whenever he had been truthful about his emotions it felt like a hug.

“I can take off my shirt too, so that we are even. Is that okay?”

He said it so softly like he is handling a child and the duality of the situation had your mind fogged and limbs frozen for a few minutes.

“Yeah it’s okay” It’s far beyond than okay. It’s great actually.

Jeon Jungkook is ripped, a Greek God sculptured masterpiece covered in self designed artwork you are more than happy to wake up to every morning. He hears you gulp at the feast before your eyes while he discards his black t-shirt to a nearby chair.

Now you don’t know if this whole thing is supposed to warm your heart or make you play several erotic fantasies like a movie before your eyes.

Both of you share a small smile while his long fingers are tugging at the hem of your shirt and pulling it up over your head.

He almost wishes you don’t opt to wear a bra but he is met with lacy black, a-bit-over your-usual-budget fabric hugging the roundness of your breasts.

It seemed like you were way too competitive about today. Anything less than complete awe from Jungkook for you was straight disappointment, you don't want anything less.

Well it seems like it did from how blown his pupils were at this point. He peels his gaze off your chest with a sharp gulp to look at your eyes suddenly devoid of any fear and staring back at him with all ease. He is filled with an exapnse of warmth and he isn't sure why does spending just a little amount of time with you had such a grip on him. He can’t wait to propose the idea of getting a couple tattoo together soon and as far as you know how Jungkook is, he is very serious with his body art so apparently he does trust you a lot already.

“Where exactly are you trying to get it?”, his voice is a lot deeper suddenly as he waits for your fingers to guide to his canvas.

You softly trace the spot at the upper circumference of your right boob, “Here”.

You suck a breath through your nose as his own fingers are mimicking your gesture, lightly pulling down the lace to inspect the fitting of the design at hand.

These violent delights have violent ends

And in their triumph die, like fire and powder

Jungkook traces each word on your burning skin, now leaning dangerously close which was questioning your control to put your palms flat on his pecs. He doesn’t notice that though, his mind is busy creating his own fantasies about the women under him.

After two minutes and twenty four second long of inspection and mutual thirst, Jungkook is selecting a bunch of needles to set into the rotary machine. Five fine sharp like a painter's brush moves in and out at a set regularity as Jungkook tests it out.

The next of his actions had you flushed into a pool of crimson. He gently lifts up your resting torso with one hand while the other is unclasping the hook of your bra, making you half naked for the sake of the tattoo.

"I'm going to start", he says shyly.

You still have time to save yourself from the growing phobia for the object, but another unlogical part of your brain says it's a piece of cake considering you have a whole distracting full course meal in front of you.

It stings at first. Well, okay it hurts like hell but your face is devoid of any indication, except your right hand is gripping on the rim of the chair for dear life.

Jungkook on the other hand had never felt this much diversion of mind during his work. He knows that you are probably hurting very badly, especially for a first timer. He is biting into his lip ring, trying to get this over with for the well-being of your pain and his hormones.

After he had scribed one word into your dermis, you are no longer able to contain the ache so you give out a small squeak out of your glossed lips and the vibration of the machine at his hands stops as he looks at you.

"You want me to stop? ", he is relaxing his face as he cups yours with one hand. You don't want to answer that question, but the drumroll of the current situation is making your heart flutter and everything about the little burn on your chest is forgotten.

"No. It does hurt but I'll be fine I guess", you whisper. His breath is mixing with yours slowly as he is leaning more towards your face. If it isn't for a kiss then you are likely to be disappointed.

"It'll be over before you know it. I'll make it quick", and then he kisses you, a small act to get off the pressure of sexual tension between your bare upper bodies.

Before you think of any tongue in the act, he is breaking off the contact and returns to his position on your chest. He misses the pout that forms on your mouth but right now both of your heads are in cloud nine.

The pain starts again, only this time you are busy reliving how his lips felt in yours; soft, firm and controlled.

You gasp when you feel one of his hands cupping your right breast to further his design but it's lowkey an act empowered by lust which is straining behind the so called professional eyes.

You just sit there flustered out of your mind and then Jungkook is suddenly squeezing, full palm hiding your breasts like it's a protected treasure, but he isn't showing the slightest facial expression other than determined eyes and his lower lip caught between his teeth.

Fuck you can't take it anymore. Jungkook can feel your nipples harden against his hand and his brain isn't helping much to concentrate on the design. But by the grace of some positive karma left on his side, he makes it through the long text and when he is letting go of your chest and standing tall, your skin is popping out with redness on the places the text lays embedded.

He fishes out a mirror for you to look.

"It looks beautiful thank you Jungkook", you smile.

"Can I give you one more tattoo on your left one?", he asks while you are contemplating whether going through the pain is worth it, not to mention you really want to get back at a private space with Jungkook as soon as possible.

"It won't hurt I promise", and then he is kissing you a lot filthier than before; all tongue and teeth, while his hands are grazing on the skin of your waist, pressing a little firmer than before.

The coldness of his lip ring rivaled around your mouth, and you try sucking on it to which Jungkook responds with a growl and pushes his body adamantly against yours.

Skin to skin, you are lost in euphoria of everything happening and finally, you roam your eager hands around his body, to his pecs and the definition of abs.

As your fingers scraped against his scalp, Jungkook is biting eagerly down your jawline to your collarbone and continues his ministrations at a particular spot which is bringing out melodic moan variation from you.

He is going down your skin, licking on your left boob before he starts planting violet tattoos as he had promised. As if it couldn't get better, he is massaging the right breast, in a way to soothe pain.

He loses it when you stutter his name, but he is just a fucking tease when it comes to making love and doing anything in a public space is the last thing he wants to do. There isn't much room for all that he wants right now.

"Why did you choose this particular tattoo Y/n?", he rasps while he is planting small pecks on his artwork, and you reply when he is finally eye level with you

"I just felt like it's a good one", your breaths are uneven and mostly caught in your neck. He pecks your lips before speaking, "Those are lines from Romeo and Juliet".

He takes your hands to trace over a line of text among the many designs on his chest.

which, as they kiss, consume

"We pretty much have a couple tattoo now Y/n", his breath is matched with your pace and you are not very sure how to respond to this new knowledge.

"That's… hot"

You break into giggles along with him, he just can't stop dragging his lips around your skin, but he isn't able to word his feelings right now either.

"I have some aftercare healing ointment for the tattoo at my place, wanna come over?" Now that may be a little lame of an excuse to get his little friend out of his pants but you are too unfazed to analyse any of that.

His hands find place on your ass under the skirt as soon as the door to his apartment closes, and before you know it, you are in his bedroom, sitting on the soft mattress and tongue lost devouring each other.

While eagerly getting rid of every article of clothing, Jungkook notices that you don't have your bra on beneath the shirt, so it's probably back at the parlour, but none of you have the slightest care for it, might as well make an excuse with it later to fuck you in his cabin.

He is pushing you farther towards the headboard, him on top, grinding sensenslesy while your lips mould with his. Though he has his whole body pressed against you, you can't seem to feel his weight at the slightest, every one of his actions were just balanced and perfect.

As Jungkook goes down on you, his smile is evident against your skin, finally able to find out how every one of those scenarios in his head will come to look like. He lets out a satisfied hum being finally able to suck on your tits, your fingers finding place on his hair, twisting it out of stimulation.

His pelvis is flushed harshly against yours, grinding and rubbing against your pussy for as long as he is rejoicing the feeling of moving his tongue around both the nipples.

He stops rubbing after some point and you whimper at the loss but his fingers are soon to meet your core as a quick apology. All your later moans are muffled on his mouth once again.

Feeling the controlled movements of his fingers on your clit, you dig your nails down on his toned shoulders. It's becoming impossible to reciprocate his lewd movements of tongue on your lips at this point as the excitement between your thighs is growing every passing second.

Your mouth remains slightly parted as he removes his face to watch you squirm underneath, lips swollen, deep red and glossy from all the saliva.

He pecks at the shell of your ear before going down past your navel.

You haven't had much heads in the twenty years of your life, most of the guys being completely against the idea which made you feel insecure to bring up the topic in bed, but Jungkook does it like his life depends on it.

He growls at the sight of you dripping into his sheets and he seems to enjoy the idea of being the influence behind it. But none is going through your head at the moment, not the metal on his lips grazing against your folds, or the fact that Jungkook is grinning each time you cry his name, it feels unreal to feel something like this.

His mouth is wrapping against your entrance and he is balancing your lower body on his palms to help him reach the right depths inside you. While all you can muster up is the strength to grope the bedsheets in your fist and close your eyes at the pleasure.

Jungkook brings his head higher to give some attention to the throbbing clit, catching it between his teeth and triggering the bundle of nerves just the perfect dose to have your hips jolting up to his face.

He can't take it himself when you are now whining and chasing for your release, so he is slightly humping against the bed to get some friction.

He licks a slow stripe up till your abdomen and slowly raises to your face, already fucked out and dishevelled to keep up with his dominant orbs.

He swears he had never felt so much warmth and care for sex with any of his previous partners, in relationship or not, all he could think is how good can he treat the pleading eyes underneath him.

"Is there something you like that you want me to do?", he says, fingers grazing once again to your crotch to not deny you from his contact. Only this time he is exploring the tightness of your pretty cunt with two skillful fingers.

Is there? You are not sure. Or in other words you are too caught up at the sense of him fingering you. It's not like you had enough experience or people who cared enough to ask that question. It astounds you that never in this entire foreplay he asked for any favor for himself.

"I'm not sure…", you whisper and then maybe you have something on your mind " um I guess I would like to be choked" Okay this felt embarrassing.

He smiles before sliding his free hand from your lips to your neck, and applies slight force, careful to not hurt you in the slightest bit.

"Is that fine?"

"Yeah", you muffle through the decreasing course of air.

He pulls up your face by the throat to attach lips once more. He just can't seem to get enough of kissing you senseless. Then, the tip of his long ignored cock is teasing the length of your pussy twice before it's stretching you out to the brim.

Bodies flushed and hot, his pace is deep and slow, making sure to kiss the cervix every time he is inside.

He watches as your eyes close shut and flutters around whenever he is grazing against your sweet spot. Both of your ears lost and eager for the moans looming out of each other, his more like what he sounds at the gym. Nice observation Y/n.

In this span of sexual energy you shared, you can make some obvious conclusions. Sex with him was surreal, both in terms of domination and the care he had. Rocking against him and keeping up with his hips was attainable— Compared to the intense eye contact he tries to hold, or the way he cups the side of your face and rubs the pad of his thumb on your cheeks while he kisses you during sinking back in, or the way his eyes glow at the beauty of your body open for him. It makes you feel special and it's difficult to respond to these gestures when you never felt this way before.

Jungkook could tell that from your face, but he hopes he lasts with you enough to help you know the worth you hold. You couldn't think too much about anything when you are busy squeezing around his length and coming twice in the first ten minutes.

By the third orgasm Jungkook is nearing his own and he pulls out to pump a few times before coming on your stomach.

"Was it okay?", his voice is all over the place, still balancing his body on his arms while you are amazed by his strength.

"It was amazing Jungkook", you smile. You have known a lot about Jungkook over the few dates you spent with him. That he likes literature, classics and philosophy, designs tattoos as a subconscious thing, that his game is A-1, and he likes working out almost three hours a day. Good for you. But it wasn't until now you know him to be gentle, like he is afraid to crush you under a feather touch. You don't know him as someone who is staring deep into your face after a good fuck, speaks nothing, smiles widely, and plants a peck on your forehead before getting off the bed.

He does the honors of cleaning both of your bodies with a towel, it's not like you have any strength left in you anyway. And then pulls out an ointment from the bedside table and plops next to your body.

"There. You need this to protect the tattoo", he takes off the nozzle and applies a required amount against the words on your chest and massages against them.

"Now go to sleep Juliet", he mocks, pulling up the sheets over you both "good night".

You snuggle against his hard chest, kissing his pecs before resting on it, "Good night Romeo".

thank you so much for reading!! please leave a feedback!!

★ taglist: @pjmochii (dm, ask or comment to enter the tl!)

★ credits: @/rainbeary on spotify : songs that'll make you feel everything's in slow motion playlist

★ banner & boards: by me :)

a/n: this is my first time writing smut and i basically died of second hand embarrassment during the process. pardon for my untalented ass, i tried this wip continuously for a week and i seriously don't think it could get anything better though it's probably not much.

1K notes · View notes

yslkook · 3 years

Text

IF I GOT YOU (7)

mind of mine masterlist

summary: one month later...and things start to come to a head. you feel more at peace than you've ever felt, but as usual, what remains peaceful is always interrupted.

pairing: “badboy” jk x “shy/reserved” oc

warnings: cursing, alc, excessive use of pet names, HELLA HELLA toxic friendship and dynamics, suggestive content (hooking up and other mentions)

word count: 4066

a/n: if you want to be tagged, send an ask plz. would love to hear your thoughts

Despite a month going by from the last time you spoke to Jungkook in the park and put all of your feelings out in the open, spring air, you feel lighter than ever. Maybe most of that has to do with the simple fact that you’ve finally cut out a toxic, deadweight from your life. Regardless of what ends up happening with you and Jungkook as friends or more than that, at least you are at peace and happy with being yourself.

Besides, it’s not like you don’t ever see him. You see him when you visit the tattoo parlor (but you haven’t allowed yourself to be alone with him and he hasn’t initiated), you’ve seen him at impromptu nights out, at Yoongi’s apartment. Neither of you allow yourself to be alone with each other, since you had both agreed to wait. Even your text message thread with him is dry, though.

You miss him, hoping that a notification of his name with the bunny emoji attached to it flashes across the screen. But it doesn’t.

For all of his bravado, he feels somewhat shy around you on the few occasions that he’s seen you. Jungkook will go out of his way to avoid you, hiding (as much as he can) behind Mina and Mei.

He misses you. Jungkook misses the feel of your lips molding against his, the way you felt in his arms, but most of all he misses your shy smile and your loud laugh. He misses the way your eyes shine when you speak about something you’re passionate about.

Mina had said you were both being stupid, taking time away from each other when you both are denying the inevitable. But it made sense in your mind and his. You want to know what kind of person you were without the burden of Sora’s judgment weighing heavily in every frame of your life. You take the time you need to take to recenter yourself and feel somewhat whole again.

It doesn’t take you long to adjust to life without a former best friend. You quickly begin to notice how different you feel, how differently you approach basic things that you hadn’t really put much thought to before.

It feels so refreshing to not feel like you’re walking in some metaphorical shadow of someone who didn’t really care about you. Well, you think on some level, she did care. But along with the insignificant way she made you feel, it’s not enough to justify it. And you’re really grateful that you don’t need to anymore.

In fact, you’ve already deleted most pictures with her on your social medias. You haven’t quite been able to block her yet, but you think you’ll be ready to do that soon enough.

The ever elusive notion of time really does seem to heal nearly all forms of hurt.

“So,” Yoongi starts, sitting next to you on his new black leather couch and handing you a glass of red wine.

“Don’t start with me,” You say, poking his shoulder.

“I’m not starting anything with you,” Yoongi shrugs, but his eyes twinkle.

“Oh? That’s the voice you use when you have gossip or when you’re about to interrogate me,” You mutter, rolling your eyes with a fond smile.

“Maybe it’s a little of both,” Hobi chimes in, sitting on your other side. He leans back and drapes his legs over your lap, to which you instantly rest your hands over his legs.

“How lucky for me,” You mumble, taking a long swig of your wine. You’ll need it.

“How’s that witch doing,” Yoongi asks bluntly.

“I don’t know, I told you I cut her off and kicked her out of my house like a month ago,” You reply, “Did you forget already?”

“No, I just like hearing that you finally came to your fucking senses,” Yoongi says, “She was awful, but I’ll commend you for sticking it out for this long. Cheers, the witch is finally gone-”

“I believe the phrase is, ‘ding dong, the witch is dead’, but this will suffice,” Hobi says and yelps when you swat his shoulder.

“Don’t be rude,” You say, “But… thank you for helping me see the light. Even if it took a while. And I’m sorry it affected our friendship, too.”

“Ah, well, we’re all here now,” Hobi says, pulling you in for a side hug.

“Yeah. So cheers,” Yoongi says again, raising his glass to you both, “Cheers to you for choosing yourself. And to new beginnings.”

“You’ll make me cry,” You say honestly, offering your friends a watery smile.

“As if we’ve never seen you cry before,” Hobi scoffs. And it’s true- they are two of your oldest friends, and even if you’ve come to the realization that maybe you hadn’t been the greatest friend to them… That bond is hard to sever, and you’re grateful that they’ve always had your back.

“Drink up,” You say with a smile, “Cheers to new beginnings.”

Yoongi has always been a little sly, unassuming but always with several tricks up his sleeve. When he so desires to cause a little mischief and stir the pot a little. And Hobi is all too happy to engage.

Which is how you end up several glasses of red wine and rose deep (yes, you mixed, rookie mistake but who cares. You’re in the presence of some of your greatest friends, after all).

And then Yoongi goes in for the kill.

“How’s our Jungkookie,” He asks, without missing a beat. You choke on your wine and wince when it somehow gets lodged in your nose.

“I don’t know. Think he’s good,” You finally respond, your words sounding slurred, “Ask Hobi. They work together, if you didn’t know.”

“Oh, thanks for the information. I had no idea.”

“Happy to be of service,” You say, leaning into Hobi's side, “Ikindofmisshim.”

“What was that? Didn’t quite catch that,” Yoongi says, a self-satisfied smirk blooming on his lips. He heard you, of course he did, but you don’t seem to pick up on it.

“I said I kind of miss him,” You reply, a dreamy look in your eyes, “Do you think he misses me, too?”

Hobi chokes back a laugh but you hear it and offer him a glare. “Don’t make fun of me!”

“Nobody’s making fun of you, stupid,” Yoongi says poking your forehead, “And yeah. Your man doesn’t shut up about you. Always with those eyes around you.”

“He’s not my man,” You whine pathetically.

“Yeah, that’s a mystery to both of us,” Hobi says, “How long are you both gonna keep this up?”

“Keep what up?”

“This weird awkward dance you both do around each other. Avoiding each other when we’re all together. It’s kinda funny, like we all know you both wanna fuck so bad-”

“Shut up! That’s- that’s not- shut up!”

Yoongi and Hoseok both burst into laughter, drunken giggles loud in the living room and you can’t help but laugh with them.

Clubs were never your most favorite place to unwind, but you make an exception for tonight. For Mina and Mei, you’ll make an exception. The three of you had gotten ready together in Mei’s home, in between sips of cocktails that she had poured out. Mina had done your makeup for you, giving you the sharpest eyeliner you’ve ever seen on your eyelids as well as a bold red lipstick.

It’s not a club night if there is no red lipstick involved, after all.

Your makeup usually looks good when you apply it yourself, but Mina has a genuine eye and skill for makeup artistry. You recall her telling you that she’d always dreamed of going to beauty school but hadn’t pursued it. You had told her that it’s never too late to fulfill a dream and she had only smiled at you.

“Hey,” You say, “Is Jimin coming tonight? How’d your date last week go?”

“It was really good,” Mina says, something sweet in her voice, “He made me dinner and dessert. And then I sucked his soul from his cock an hour later and he even made me squirt. And yeah, he’s coming tonight to the club. We’ll see what happens...”

“Wow,” You nod, listening with wide eyes, “That sounds amazing. I’m really happy things are going well for you both. Including the horny stuff.”

“The horny stuff?” Mei laughs, “You’re cute.”

“Shut up,” You say, playfully shoving her shoulder, “It’s no joking matter that he made you squirt.”

“Yeah, I high fived him after,” Mina says slyly, “It was… a night. Can’t wait to have another night like that. But I’m gonna make him work for it tonight.”

“As you should,” You nod solemnly, “What about you Mei? Are we drinking until we blackout or are you playing hard to get with Seulgi?”

“Who says we can’t do both?” Comes Mei’s muffled response.

“Cheers to that,” You reply, “Are… Jimin’s roommates coming?”

“You think you’re slick, huh?” Mina snorts, “You wondering about Jungkook?”

“N-no, I haven’t seen Taehyung in a while either-”

“Tae’s coming, but Jungkook isn’t. Something about having a long week and wanting to chill at home.”

“Oh, gotcha,” You say, cheeks ablaze as you avoid her eyes. Unable to hold the slight sting of disappointment from your voice.

Mina and Mei see right through it but they say nothing, only handing you a refill of your now empty glass.

Despite the relatively steady stream of drinks in your hand (an illusion, really, you’ve been nursing the same two drinks all night), you’re almost completely sober. In fact, you’re more tired than anything else. It seems that Jungkook had the right idea to stay home tonight. You’re rather benignly jealous of his decision.

You enjoy dancing and singing with your friends, feeling the thrum and excitement of music and your close companions bursting through your veins.But environments like this overwhelm you sometimes. All of the flashing lights, sometimes smoke and all of the people… Tonight seems to be one of those nights.

“Wanna dance?” Comes a rich, velvety voice behind you to the right. It’s Taehyung, and you’d rather dance with Taehyung than anyone else in this club. With the exception being Jungkook, but he’s not here right now.

“Okay,” You nod, taking his hand when he offers it to you. Your thoughts flit to Jungkook briefly.

Taehyung is good company, always keeping you with a smile on your face and filling you up with laughter. He keeps you close with easy, gentle movements as you both belt out the words to whatever song is playing on the speakers. But Taehyung has always been observant.

“You don’t really wanna be here, huh? I’d take it personally, if I didn’t know you,” Taehyung teases.

“No, it’s not that,” You murmur, “Just have never been a big club goer, that’s all. Jungkook had the right idea in staying home.”

“Yeah,” Taehyung muses, “What are you two doing?”

He’s almost as blunt as Yoongi (who’s also in some corner of the club. Usually, he keeps you company at things like this, but conveniently, he’s nowhere to be found.).

“If I knew I was going to be interrogated in this club, I would’ve drank more,” You say dryly. Taehyung laughs at that and squeezes your shoulder.

“You both deserve to be happy. Just want you to know that.”

“Thanks, Tae,” You say, a grin spreading across your face, “I guess you’re not as sleazy as Mina says you are-”

“Me? Sleazy?” Taehyung gasps, pretending to be affronted. You roll your eyes and offer him your hand.

“Wanna dance?”

Taehyung turns you around and holds your hips tightly in his hands, dancing with you to the beat of the music. It’s nice to be held like this, even if it’s a little dirty.

You don’t notice a pair of sly eyes watching you from across the club.

By the time you excuse yourself to catch a breath and grab some water from the bar, you realize that most of your friends are off doing their own thing. It gives you a second to people watch from the second floor of the curb and lean on the railings, taking in your surroundings. Despite stifling a yawn.

You relish in the cool feel of the icy water flooding your senses, waking you up a little more. You wonder if you can convince Yoongi to take you to get fries or tacos after the night ends. At the thought of tacos, you salivate a little.

But your taco fueled fantasies are broken when a few girls try to push past you to get to the bar. You mumble a soft apology, but it goes unheard. The unmistakable sound of a voice, a voice that you’ve only recently been able to put out of your mind, breaks through the barrier and it makes your heart drop.

It’s an angry call of your name. Your stomach churns, and suddenly you’ve never wanted to learn the art of teleportation more.

Sora, in all her bitter glory, stands in front of you with a full drink in her hands. Beside her are two of her friends, looking resigned and trying to plead with her that they should go.

“Missed me so much that you followed me here, huh?” Sora sneers.

“I’m not even going to entertain that with a response. Or you for that matter,” You say tiredly, trying to step past her.

“All your friends left you. Look at you all alone,” She says and you roll your eyes with a dry laugh.

“I’d rather be alone than have anything to do with you, Sora,” You reply easily, “I’m leaving now-”

But she sidesteps you again, gripping your forearm and looking at you with so much animosity that it makes your skin crawl. Had she always looked at you like that?

“I can’t believe you just dropped me like nothing. After I gave you everything,” Sora says, as if you had said nothing at all. She’s clearly a little drunk, telltale signs of her drunkenness clear on her face. Her words are slurred and she stumbles a little on her feet. You cringe. You don’t want to have this conversation with her whether she’s sober or drunk.

“You treated me like I was nothing,” You snap, “I don’t want to discuss this with you. Now let me go.”

“Or what? There’s nobody here ‘cept you and me, babe,” She says, her lips twisting into a cruel smirk. Her friends have disappeared and warning bells start to go off in your head. She’s right, all of your friends have dispersed. But you manage to fish your phone out of your purse while she rambles to you and send a text to the groupchat, simply stating “pls help, Sora is here”.

Dread seeps into your pores. You just want to be done with her presence.

“Sora, just let me go. Nothing you say will change anything,” You say heatedly, “Fucking let go of me!”

You try to yank your arm out of her grip but her nails are sharp against your skin.

“I loved you, you know that? I fucking gave you everything, you were my best friend,” Sora hisses, “I just wanted to you be happy. To see that I’d do anything for you.”

It takes a minute for the dust to settle but you suddenly begin to understand. “You hurt me! That’s not friendship or l-love, or anything remotely close to it. Nothing you say will change that. I don’t want you around anymore. Take a hint, Sora,” Your voice is cold and deadly, nothing like what Sora is accustomed to.

“Please, let me go,” You beg softly, “Why won’t you let me go?”

Tears spring into your eyes, both from the force she’s holding you with and from how much this is exhausting you.

“What does he have that’s worth all of this?” Sora hisses.

“It doesn’t matter what he has. I like him and I enjoy spending time with him, that’s all that should matter, and I’m not explaining Jungkook to you,” You say coldly, “You lost the right to know a long time ago. If you took your head out of your ass for two seconds, you’d know that this friendship was over months ago.”

By now, both of your voices have raised in volume and pitch, attracting the attention of bystanders. This makes no sense to you, your head is starting to hurt from the implications of her words. You just want to go home. By now, Yoongi has seen your text and is trying to get to the bar to rescue you from Sora.

“He won’t give you what you need,” Sora exclaims.

“Shut up! Just fucking stop talking about him,” You shout, “I’m so fucking sick of this, just leave me the fuck alone. Your opinion doesn’t matter to me anymore, just drop it!”

You feel the need to defend him though, “He’s kind, he has a big heart a-and, you know what, I don’t need to explain myself to you. Just fucking drop it! Leave me alone!”

“You are so fucking blind! You’ve always been such an oblivious fucking bitch,” She screams at you and your blood goes cold. You’ve seen her angry, but not like this not when her eyes are blown over with rage.

Yoongi’s heart is beating in his ears as he tries to find you- this club is fucking huge, where the hell could you be? He’s already sent a text to Jungkook, telling him that you might be in trouble at the club and that nobody could find you.

“Where is he then? If he’s so kind, he must be here right?”

“What the fuck is your problem? You’ve always had a stick up your ass about him specifically- I mean you’ve always have a stick up your ass, but with him it’s like something crawled up there and died-”

“You couldn’t even cuff him? You dropped me for him and you didn’t even cuff him?”

“That’s none of your business!”

“What are you afraid of, babe?” She sneers cruelly, “Afraid he’ll find something he doesn’t like? Or are you afraid you’ll find something that you don’t like?”

Frustration and hurt boils in your belly, causing wetness to pool in your eyes. You shut your eyes tightly, willing the feeling to go away. With all of the calmness you can muster, you throw her hand off of you and rub your forearm gingerly.

Before you can say anything, her eyes narrow to slits. You don’t even have time to react before you feel a sudden wetness drench the front of your top. Remnants of her drink are splashed on your torso and you gasp, rage flaring through your veins once more. How dare she throw her drink at you? Before you can do anything though, a pair of arms circle your waist and you’re pulled into a strong chest.

You recognize the scent of his cologne immediately and the feel of his leather jacket. “Jungkook,” You mumble, looking up at him. He immediately gives you his jacket and pushes it through your arms wordlessly.

“Hi,” He murmurs, taking in your wide, nervous eyes and the trembling of your hands. He brushes a thumb over your cheek before standing in front of you and you take his hand in yours. Jungkook squeezes reassuringly.

He offers Sora a long, hard look and a shake of his head. She almost balks at his intense gaze. Almost.

“C’mon baby,” Jungkook finally says, “Let’s get out of here.”

“My knight in shining arm-” You shiver once you’re both outside the club, away from the eyes of strangers. You cut your train of thought off when he pulls you close to him, cupping your cheeks with both hands. Worry dots his eyes and he presses his forehead to yours shakily.

“Jungkook?” You say softly, “Is everything-”

He exhales, a shudder felt against your skin. He seems to be at odds with himself, an internal battle dancing in his dark eyes. But Jungkook makes up his mind and cradles your face again, the gentle pads of his thumbs brushing over your cheeks.

“I missed you,” Jungkook croaks, “Shit, I miss you so fucking much. Can I kiss you, baby? Is it okay if I kiss you?”

You nod instantly, breathing out a soft ‘yes’. Whatever this recent development means for both of you, it makes sense. You want this and you want him.

And then he kisses you as if it was meant to be, as if he’s been thinking about your lips every minute of every day- soft, balmy lips against your chapped, red lips. Jungkook swallows your gasp, somehow brushing against the parts of your heart that missed him. His kiss is sweet and desperate as his tongue traces over your teeth before dipping further into your mouth. Your knees weaken slightly, but he holds you steady with one arm around your waist and his other hand cradling your cheek.

You’re overwhelmed by him and from the events of the night. Whatever wetness had gathered in your eyes clings to your lashes before dropping down your cheeks.

“Baby,” Jungkook says softly. He gathers you in his arms, hugging you tightly. You sink into his hold on you, inhaling deeply. The faint thrum of his heart calms you slightly.

“I missed you,” You reply, voice barely above a whisper, “Fuck, I missed you a lot.”

He kisses your forehead with a small smile, the hint of his dimples making you smile, too. Jungkook looks at you as if you’re transparent, trying to study the reason for your wet lashes and the tear stains down your face. A feeling of understanding passes between you both, calming your racing heart and your nerves.

“Jungkook,” You murmur, “Take me home.”

“Yours or mine?”

“Yours,” You reply, not really wanting to be in your home just yet, “It’s only fair, since you spent the night at my place last time, right?”

“I guess I can’t argue with that,” Jungkook chuckles. He kisses you one more time before adjusting his motorcycle helmet over your head. When you wrap your arms around him, you press a kiss to the back of his neck and behind his ear.

He shivers.

Jungkook can tell you’re in your head a little bit, a little quiet and shaky. Even as you head into his bathroom to change into the clothes he’d given you, you couldn’t quite meet his eyes. When you returned from the bathroom with a bare face, you’re lost in thought, biting down on your bottom lip and chewing harshly.

He’d pulled you into his arms, applied his clear balm on your lips, and chided you for treating your lips like that.

You only smiled weakly at him and meekly asked him to hold you under his covers. He doesn’t deny you.

He’d caught the tail end of Sora’s tirade at the club, and he’d begun to understand. He thinks you had begun to understand, too.

“Hey,” Jungkook whispers into your hair, “Do you want to talk, baby?”

“I don’t know what to say,” You admit softly, pressing your hand over his.

“I can talk for both of us,” Jungkook says, kissing your temple, “Can I do that?”

“Yeah,” You mumble, threading your fingers through his and squeezing.

“I heard some of what Sora said,” Jungkook says and you tense up but he wordlessly tells you to relax, “I think in some weird, twisted, fucked up way. She loved you and her way of showing you how was keeping you to herself. It’s shitty, but it made sense to her. But you don’t owe her anything, baby. Not a damn thing.”

“Yeah,” You sigh, “I feel really gross and I don’t know why.”

“That’s alright, baby,” Jungkook says, rubbing your arm, “You didn’t know. That’s not love, not really. You’re safe here.”

“I know,” You say, turning to look at him with a small smile, “I trust you.”

You turn fully in his arms, resting your head on his chest and wrapping an arm around his waist. His heartbeat lulls you to sleep, as well as his gentle fingers over your back. It’s so easy with him, and you don’t need to think too much. Just how you like it.

Tags: @kookdbean @codeinebelle

MoM Tags: @tiemeuptogoldenchains @boymeetsparadise @jungkooksseuphoria @kaepjjangiya @drumsofheaven @ppeachyttae @tae-bebe @yiyi4657 @mygscafe @beeeetsandskzreads @maichiverse @hordanhearsawhooo @anonymous2505

#jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jeon jungkook x you

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redhoodssweetheart · 3 years

Text

Soulmate Retreat

Genre: Soulmate AU

Pairing: Dick Grayson x Gender Neutral!Reader

Requested: Yes (This was a request from my 1.5K follower celebration.)

Fall/Halloween requests are open as well as the ones mentioned in the pinned post, but regular requests are not open currently.)

Word Count: 1.3K

Warnings: Fluff

Description: Your friend drags you along to a soulmate retreat to try and find hers little do you know your own soulmate has done the same thing.

A/N: I used the name Wanda for the friend, this is Wanda Maximoff. I tend to use Marvel characters as "extras" in stories. She is not Scarlet Witch in this, she doesn't have her powers or anything like that. I just use characters from other universes as people the reader may know instead of using a random name or Y/B/F/N. So yeah, just wanted to put that out there.

You don’t know why you had let your friend convince you to come with her on the soulmate retreat. Wanda was persistent when she had come up with the idea. She was desperate to meet her soulmate while you wanted to wait and let things unfold as naturally as possible. When she had asked you to come with her initially you had refused and told her she could go alone. Then she begged and you had a hard time saying no to her.

Now the two of you were standing in the lobby of the beachside resort that was hosting the event. Crowds of people were standing around chatting and laughing together. It seemed the fun had already begun and Wanda was practically vibrating with excitement.

“Isn’t this great?!” She gushed.

You felt nervous as you looked at each person and wondered if your soulmate was amongst the masses. You glanced down at the small robin tattooed on your wrist and then glanced around to see if you could spot the same one on someone else. Unfortunately for you, there weren’t any signs of the robin tattoo that you could see.

Wanda came over with the key to your shared room and began hauling you toward the elevators so the two of you could shower and change after your trip. Meanwhile, Dick and Kori entered the lobby. “I do not understand why I’m here, Dick,” Kori said, her brows furrowed. “I do not have a soulmate like you.”

Dick had been disappointed by that fact when they were younger and he had had a huge crush on her. Now they were friends and Dick didn’t want to come to this alone. “I know, I know, but I need moral support okay. My soulmate could be here, but in case they aren’t I didn’t want to be here alone.”

Kori took Dick’s hand and gave it a squeeze, “Have faith, Dick. I’m sure you’ll find your soulmate soon enough.”

Dick hoped that she was right. Tim and Jason had already found theirs, Damian was still too young for the tattoo, but Dick was beginning to feel lonely. He was reaching an age where going out on random dates just wasn’t cutting it when he knew there was no future. He was searching for his other half and was hoping to find them here.

That night for dinner you and Wanda entered the dining room and found an empty table. You had spent most of the day on the beach watching the waves and trying to relax. You were feeling jittery and couldn’t quite place why. Wanda thought that it may be because your soulmate was nearby, but you waved off that suggestion. There was no proof that you would be able to tell when your soulmate was nearby.

As you waited for your food to arrive you glanced around the room and saw an attractive man sitting with a red-haired woman. The two of them were laughing and you felt a pang in your chest. It seemed someone had already found their soulmate. You were trying not to feel jealous, but something inside of you wasn’t wanting to look away from them. This wasn’t the first time you had seen soulmate pairs before, but it was the first time that you had felt jealous of them.

The man looked up and your eyes locked for a moment. He had the most beautiful blue eyes you had ever seen and you had to force yourself to look away. He wasn’t your soulmate, there was no need to look at him. Thankfully Wanda drew your attention back to her and she talked about some of the people she had met that day.

Dick on the other hand was still looking at you. Kori took notice and turned around to see who had caught Dick’s attention. She noticed you and asked, “Are they your soulmate?”

Shaking his head to clear his mind he said, “I don’t know. They could be. It seems like they’re just friends with the woman they’re with.”

“Then you should go talk to them!” Kori said excitedly. “See if either one of them is who you are looking for.”

It wasn’t a bad idea but Dick didn’t want to interrupt their meal so he stayed rooted in place. “I’ll search for them tomorrow,” he told her. “It’s a small hotel and the event for all unmatched soulmates is tomorrow anyway.” He steered the conversation back to their food and tried to conspicuously look at you throughout the evening.

Wanda was mingling amongst the crowd and you were standing back against a wall. This was typical for you. You didn’t vibe with big crowds and to be honest you were nervous about how this was all gonna go. Several people had approached you and asked to see your mark, but when they realized that their mark and yours were not a match they moved on to the next person. You weren’t offended that they didn’t stick around to keep up a conversation.

After all, they were here for a purpose. Friends could be made afterward at the dinner for anyone who wanted to come.

You were considering leaving, it had been over twenty minutes since someone had approached you when you noticed the handsome man from dinner. He was mingling amongst the crowd, the woman he had been with the night before nowhere to be seen. You wondered where she was and why he was here. If he had found his soulmate then there was no reason for him to be here. Unless like you and Wanda the two of them were just friends and not actually soulmates.

Your heart rate picked up as he looked your way and excused himself from the couple he had been talking with.

You looked around trying to plan a quick escape, but you were squished between two separate crowds. Cursing yourself for not placing yourself closer to an exit you looked back at the man who was only a few paces away now. “Hi, I’m Dick Grayson,” he introduced.

You tried to keep your breathing even and replied, “Y/N Y/L/N.”

“I know this is a little awkward, but could I ask what your mark is?” He seemed so hopeful and for a moment your heart stopped at the shy look on his face. He offered you his wrist and said, “Mine is this robin.”

Your eyes widened at the sight of his mark, it was yours. He had your mark. Swallowing thickly, you lifted your wrist and showed him yours. “We’re a match,” your voice was soft. Never in a million years had you thought that you would actually find your soulmate here.

Dick’s face instantly brightened and he asked, “Do you want to go somewhere a bit more quiet?”

“Sure, let me go let my friend know,” you pushed your way through the crowd and told Wanda what had happened. She squealed with excitement and wished you luck before turning back to the man who had captured her attention.

You let Dick lead you down to the beach where the two of you swapped life stories. He told you about his large family and how he had once been a part of the circus. You told him about Wanda and how she was like family to you. You even asked him who the woman he had been with the night before was and he explained that she was an old friend.

He made you laugh and you felt comfortable around him. That wasn’t surprising since he was your soulmate, but it was an odd feeling being so comfortable with someone you had just met. You lucked out in the fact that you lived close to Gotham and could visit Dick often when the two of you returned home. He invited you to the mansion for dinner when you returned saying that his family was going to want to meet you. You agreed, wanting to get to know this group of people that Dick had grown up with.

When the weekend was over you discovered that Wanda had also found her soulmate. He was an engineer named Vision and he lived in New York. On the flight home the two of you gushed about your respective soulmates and you even thought about how you couldn’t wait to see Dick again.

#Dick Grayson x Reader #Dick Grayson x Reader fluff #Dick Grayson fanfic #Dick Grayson fanfiction #Dick Grayson fluff #Requested

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blu-joons · 4 years

Text

Flower Tattoo ~ Jeon Jungkook

Your eyes glanced down at his bare palm pressed against your shoulder as you began to stir and welcome in the morning. The feeling of Jungkook back beside you in the mornings was something you were often still trying to get used to.

Having spent the best part of three months travelling with the tour, you’d seemingly adjusted to spending your mornings alone, wrapping the duvet round yourself a little tighter to keep yourself warm.

It had also been the first time you got to spend time with Jungkook since he added to his tattoo collection whilst in the States. Of course, you often spoke on the phone and called when you had the time, but that never meant enough to Jungkook, who had cut you off for the most of the tour to try and cope with the tour.

He thought it was for the best, only when he was photographed with his new tattoos, published on every new outlet, having not told you about his new additions you couldn’t help but take it to heart that he’d chosen to keep something so personal from you.

The situation had carried itself with you both to the moment you reunited, as much as you were happy to see each other, it didn’t prevent an enormous amount of tension between you both as you waited for someone to bring it up.

Having cleared the situation up as best you could, choosing quickly to squash it, it didn’t stop the scenario playing in your mind every time you saw his hand and arm, studying the new ink to try and piece it altogether.

“Good morning.”

His hoarse voice made you jump as you felt his hand move around your shoulder, resting in front of your face. “M-morning,” you stuttered, looking at all the individual pieces on his knuckles.

Jungkook wasn’t stupid either, he could tell that you still had many lingering thoughts over what had taken place, it wasn’t a quick fix when he knew how much he’d hurt you, but he was more then prepared to play the waiting game and make all of this up to you.

Your eyes glanced at each one, the meanings were mostly obvious, except for one that left you confused. On the inside of his finger, where no one else could see, a small rose was tattooed, delicately and beautifully.

“I never realised you had one here, no one ever gets to see this.”

By the touch of your hand running across his finger Jungkook knew exactly what you were talking about. “That’s because I don’t want anyone to see it, it’s something I just like to keep to myself, it’s too important to me.”

“Why don’t you want people to see it?”

His hands carefully guided you, so you turned in the bed to face him, feeling his frame shift closer towards you to close any distance between the two of you.

“Isn’t the point of a tattoo so that everyone can see it?” You added, watching his hand move so it rested in between you both, giving you the perfect view of his ink.

As much as it took you time to get used to Jungkook’s tattoos, this one had already become a favourite of yours, all the details took your breath away.

“But I like to keep you to myself flower,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your cheek, “I don’t want to share you with anyone else in the world.”

“Kook,” you sighed, as all the pieces began to fall into place. Flower, the first nickname he ever gave you when the two of you started dating which somehow just began to stick.

“I have all these other tattoos of things I share with everyone that mean something to me, but you mean too much to me to share, so I just wanted to have you with me, and no one else,” he explained, blushing as your smile grew.

Your hand intertwined with his in between you both, for all the times you’d been angry at him making decisions without telling you, suddenly it all just felt right.

“Why didn’t you tell me that you had it?”

“I was wondering if you’d ever notice,” he chuckled, “I was just glad none of the cameras picked up on it in the newspapers. I was saving it for a moment where I could explain it to you properly, but you found it before I really had the chance.”

For some time Jungkook had expressed his desire to get even more tattoos, whilst initially you were apprehensive you knew he’d never be stupid enough to get something that didn’t mean something important to him that he’d end up regretting.

“I know that I upset you by not telling you about getting some more tattoos, and you didn’t deserve to find out the way you did, I was just scared that maybe you wouldn’t be happy that I was getting more,” he whispered, wrapping his free arm around you.

“I’m in no position to tell you what you can and can’t do, if getting more tattoos was what you wanted, I was never going to stop you. You love them, so I love them,” you assured him, resting your head against his shoulder, “they are quite pretty, especially the flower, I absolutely love it.”

He nodded against your side, “but your opinion means the most to me,” he reasoned, “if you didn’t like any of them, then I don’t know what I would have done.”

As you learnt more about each one you became more and more accepting of them all. Sometimes you did wonder what went through his head, but when he sat down and told you the meaning behind each one, it all made so much more sense.

It was Jungkook’s body, and any changes or additions he made you were always going to support, it may take time to adjust, but you both knew that eventually you always grew to love them.

“I’ve been thinking about getting a few more the next time we go to America,” he whispered down to you, “but this time I’ll tell you about them all before actually getting them.”

Your arm nudged into his side, “you’re not going back to America for some time yet.”

“I know, but at least if I tell you now there’s no way I can get myself into trouble again,” he laughed, “do you have any idea how scary the last couple of weeks of tour were knowing that I’d upset you, I don’t think I want to go through an experience like that again.”

“Then you should have told me,” you sighed, “it’s your own fault for keeping it a secret.”

“I admit maybe that was my mistake, but you’d have seen them eventually, maybe I just wanted to surprise you with them all.”

He was right, it was a surprise opening the front page of the newspaper to see his photo, not quite the surprise he was hoping to give you, but it was impossible for you to stay mad at him, knowing especially now that he was always going to carry a little piece of you with himself.

“I’ve always loved the idea of a couples tattoo,” he added, nudging his head into your shoulder, “what do you say to that?”

“Maybe one day.”

---

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sanders-sides-fic · 3 years

Text

A hole of your shape in my heart

So… My brain went to war with me today. So I wrote some Anxceit-centred angst to cope. Consider yourself warned, this will hurt. I do hope you'll enjoy it regardless, though.

Trigger warnings: implied depression, mentions of panic attacks, self harm, fainting, memory loss

If I forgot a trigger or there is something you would like to be added to that list, please go ahead and tell me. You can do so anonymously as well.

It wasn't that bad at the beginning. A bit of a cold shiver, running down his spine. Ice that seemed to settle in his lounges. A dull ache. Nothing serious, really. He knew that it wasn't good to ignore it, he knew that from the start. And yet he couldn't help it.

They were happy. That was all that mattered to him then. Remus and Janus were happy. That was more important than a bit uncomfortableness. He was used to having panic attacks, mental breakdowns and the sudden urge to cry anyways. This didn't make such a big difference.

Except that it did.

You see, Remus was born without a soulmate. He just didn't have one. Janus, on the other hand, had an accident when he was younger. There was a nasty scar on the left side of his face, which he had covered up with a tattoo of a snake later. Ever since that accident, he'd been soul-blind. Colourblind for soulmates. He did have a soulmate, he just couldn't feel the bond anymore. Oh, it was still there, alright. He could feel that much. But he just couldn't tell anything beyond that. So he'd given up on finding that soulmate.

That's how Remus and Janus had gotten together in the first place. And that was wonderful. It was great. They made such a nice pair. They were happy and in love and sweet and… And it had come as a blow to the face to Virgil.

The three of them had been friends for years. When they'd become teens, Virgil had finally realised what the bond had been telling him all the time. The pretty sparkles around Janus, the glitter in the air that portrayed his emotion in colours, the warmth around his heart that reminded him of Janus. Janus could only feel that warmth. He wondered what it felt like to him. What he felt like to him. Because Janus was Virgil's soulmate.

Virgil had been a bit happy and a bit sad about that. Happy because he liked Janus and he knew him and that was fine. Sad because Janus couldn't tell that they were soulmates.

And that was why he kept telling himself that he'd tell Janus. For sure. But somehow he always ducked out the last moment. Something always happened. Just little things, but things that were bad enough to make him retreat into his shell.

He should have known. When Janus said he would give up on searching for a soulmate he couldn't even tell apart from the rest of the world, he should have known. And yet he hadn't expected Janus to start dating people. Janus was his soulmate, his. He didn't even consider the possibility that he might see other people. How very stupid of him.

He had almost told Janus that day. They were eighteen then, and he had bought a yellow nasturtium, Janus's favorite flower. It was inside a black pot that he'd made himself. He'd always liked to do pottery, it calmed him down. This was the best one he made so far, he thought.

He also wrote down what he wanted to say. How much Janus meant to him, how badly he wanted to be with him, that they were soulmates, that he didn't even mind that Janus couldn't tell and that he was sorry he hadn't said anything before. That it was okay if Janus needed time because this was so sudden, but that he hoped he'd give Virgil a chance anyways. Virgil had used his favorite paper. It was a bit fancy, but not over the top. And it smelled like Lavender, which always calmed him down. He'd wasted quite a bit of this paper because he kept starting over, but that was worth it. Janus was worth it.

But Janus had already told him that he wasn't waiting for his soulmate anymore. And when Janus arrived at his apartment that day, it was with his hand in Remus's.

"He asked me out earlier. I can't believe I said yes, the way he did it was terrible, really." But Janus had smiled, and Remus had laughed, and Virgil had been late.

He knew Remus wasn't to blame, and neither was Janus. They were happy right now. Remus hadn't been happy or confident when it came to the topic of love in forever. Janus had suffered because he'd always been so, so scared of his soulmate rejecting him for not being able to tell. And now they were happy and it was without him.

It hurt. A lot. But he didn't want to ruin their happiness. It was only his fault. He was to blame, for hesitating. For not wanting to ruin their friendship. For being selfish.

So he secretly took the letter and hid it in the bottom of his desk drawer. And he wished them the best.

After that, they started to drift away. Remus and Janus had a lot of date nights. And Virgil drifted away from them because he couldn't stand seeing them. It hurt too much, was all. Whenever Janus would smile at him, whenever Janus laughed, whenever Remus sighed and told him about a cute thing Janus had done, whenever they shared a milkshake, whenever they were so there, so with each other.

Whenever Janus insisted Virgil come as well, saying he missed him. Because Virgil knew, he knew that was because Janus could still feel the soulmate bond. But Janus didn't know, and Janus didn't see him that way, and that was just cruel. Why did fate do this to him? Why did it hate him so much?

After a while, when Virgil couldn't take it anymore, he begun to initiate fights. Janus was too much of a liar, he was too anxious to trust him. Remus was creepy and gross, he couldn't understand why he would say something like that. In the end, he became more and more of an asshole to the two of them. Their days were either spent apart or fighting, and Virgil would cry himself to sleep, pain and cold emptiness gnawing away at his soul.

After a while, he had pushed them so far away that he barely saw them at all anymore. And by then he was so used to it that he could just pretend everything was fine during the day. Sure, he couldn't bare to take off his hoody even in scalding hot summer. Sure, his panic attacks got worse and more frequent. Sure, he had started to wear black eyeshadow purely to hide the bags under his eyes. Sure, he woke up to dried tears on his face every single day. But it was fine. He was fine. He could take this, if it meant that the two most important people in his life were happy.

Patton, the soulmate of Remus's brother, had somehow ended up noticing how he was alone all the time now. And he'd adopted him into their friend group.

Roman and Remus were on bad terms with each other, so he barely knew them. It was kind of a fresh start, even if it was a rocky one. Remy and Roman were the least accepting of him. Roman because "A, he is the type of person Remus would hang out with. And, B, he hurt Remus with his sudden bullshit. Believe me, if you knew the things I learned through my brother…" and Remy just because he didn't want to breath the same air as him. Apparently.

Remy didn't hang out with the group if Virgil was with them. They meet up without him, which was a solution everyone was fine with. Besides, Remy had always liked to suddenly disappear and appear according to his mood. At least that was what his soulmate, Logan, said.

Roman, on the other hand, couldn't stay away that much. After all it was Patton who stuck to Virgil like friendly glue made out of puns, and Patton was Roman's soulmate. Both of them were extremely clingy too, apparently. So the two of them exchanged sarcastic comments and rude nicknames, but they didn't outright hate each other. At least Virgil didn't hate Roman.

Logan was nice to talk to. Almost as good at debates as Janus. They didn't have debates about philosophy, though. Those were reserved for Janus, and it felt like betraying him to have such a debate with someone else. They soon got to a point where hanging out was almost enjoyable, where they kind of liked each other.

And then, suddenly, it got a lot worse. A lot worse. So bad, Virgil couldn't get up in the morning. He couldn't eat anything, couldn't stop crying, could barely breath. About four panic attacks and one night of terrible, terrible loneliness later, Roman, Logan and Patton showed up at his door.

He couldn't help himself. He was so lonely, and he felt so worthless, and Patton was the only one who really wanted him around anyways. So he shrugged their concerns off, taking a sip from his hot coffee - the only acceptable hot beverage in August - and saying: "Well, I just… assumed you didn't want me around. I mean, you don't like me much anyways, so."

Patton had gasped in offence and horror, and Virgil couldn't help but smile at that, though the hole in his chest was still too much to bare and he couldn't look at them. "Yeah, yeah. Except you, Pat."

He'd been wrong. Logan drew up an entire chart to prove how much he contributed to their friend group and how much he provided. Even Roman told him that he was wanted, needed even. It was nice and wholesome, and to his surprise, it made him feel so much better. For just a moment, the hole inside his chest wasn't as icy and cold.

They ended up watching Disney that evening, with a bowl of popcorn and too much comments to actually concentrate on the movie. Later at night, Virgil even confessed that he knew his soulmate. A sore subject he didn't want to touch normally. They asked him why he was single, of course, whether it didn't work out between the two of them, whether that was even possible. And Virgil had shrugged. "I wouldn't know. We never tried, he already has someone." Then he'd chuckled. "I guess that was why I was such an asshole to Re and Jan when they got together, too. Kinda made me feel jealous and… lonely. Don't tell them, though. They don't even know that I already met my soulmate."

Janus would have been proud of him, for how well he had managed to lie to his new friends. Well, not lie directly. But a lie of omission, right?

There were many days like this after that. Days where everything got too much. His new friends understood that he sometimes had bad days. Patton would sent him videos of cute dogs and cats when he let them know he was out of order for that day. Roman would send him memes and Logan would tell him fun facts. It was precious of them, and it made Virgil feel a lot less lonely. The cold was still there, layered around the soulmate bond, the hole was just as gaping as always, but he didn't feel as lonely. And that was good enough.

Other days he could almost pretend that things were fine. He would be around his new friends for as long as his little, introverted heart allowed him. Then he'd listen to music, get stuff done, worry about dead lines and the world instead of Remus, or Janus and his absence in Virgil's life. Sometimes he would read, too. Or do pottery. He didn't do pots anymore though. Or flowers. Just art or tableware.

He didn't even mean to do it the first time. Really, it was an accident. He was just tired, and he did the dishes and then he accidentally cut himself with a knife. But as the blood trickled down his finger, the pain outside kind of overwhelmed the pain inside. So he sat down and watched his finger bleed. Because his hand was wet, it looked like more blood than it actually was.

He thought about that moment often after that, whenever the pain got too much to bare and he could barely hang on. And he did try to fight it, really, he did. But in the end, it was too tempting. Just a few cuts at a time, at first. Somewhere where no one would notice. With the hoody, that wasn't even that hard, actually. He always put on gauze, too, to make sure it didn't get infected.

It got a bit more when he heard from Roman that Janus and Remus had broken up. Apparently Janus felt weird dating Remus. They suspected that it was because Remus wasn't his soulmate - because Janus was Virgil's, his, he was supposed to date him and he wanted to yell it at Janus already, telling him the truth, finally holding him and kissing him and filling this Janus's formed hole in his heart - and Remus fully understood it. Things were a bit awkward between the two of them, but they would keep being friends.

And it got even more worse when Patton was Patton and decided to use this opportunity to get Virgil to make up with the two of them. It was nice of him, but the thing was that Janus was still Virgil's soulmate and didn't know about it.

He and Janus didn't get along too well. He made up with Remus way faster. And Roman didn't like Janus too much either, but once again Patton insisted on adopting the man into their friend group and Roman was too clingy to avoid him. But Janus made it, in the end. Of course Janus made it. He was dazzling and charismatic like that.

Only Virgil couldn't help keeping his defences up. If he let them down, he would tell him the truth. And he couldn't do that, not now, not until he made everything okay again. But he couldn't do that, not without letting his defences down and that just killed him on the inside.

And then he had a bad day. But he wanted to see Janus, so he got up and met up with the others. It helped. Seeing Janus there helped. Hearing him and Patton talking about Kant, watching him smile at Logan and joke around with both Remus and Roman… It helped. And yet it made him so much more aware of what he was missing.

Remus and Roman drove home together. Logan was supposed to meet Remy, so he had excused himself earlier. Patton worked in the café they'd been in, and his shift started after their meeting. So that left Virgil and Janus to walk out together.

Janus smelled like coconut, and his lips were a little chapped. Early winter, he always got chapped lips this time of year. The light made his skin glow, and from this angle with the way the light hit them his left eye looked a lot more golden than brown, unlike the right one.

It hurt. He wanted to grab Janus's hand, he wanted to kiss those lips, he wanted to hug him and never let him go, he wanted to grab him and hold him close until the smell of coconut would transfer to himself as well. He wanted, he wanted, he wanted so bad.

But how was he supposed to do any of it? How was he supposed to tell him?

In the end, he decided to just get it over with. Like a bandaid, just ripping it off. Straight out with it. But just when he was about to, had already taken a breath and opened his mouth…

"I missed you." Janus's melodic voice sounded way too sad. Virgil didn't like it. "Why did you just leave us behind, Virge? I missed you, but… You were acting so strange. You still are. Are you mad because I never texted you?"

He didn't say anything. Couldn't, even though he wanted to.

"If that's it, then I'm sorry. But, Virge, I… I did miss you. And you acting so cold to me really sucks. You're getting along fine with Remus now, so why not me?" He stopped and looked Virgil in the eyes, looking like he was searching for something. What, Virgil didn't know. But he didn't find it, judging by the way he averted his eyes. And that hurt, too. Everything hurt. He just wanted to go now. "I thought we were friends."

"No. I don't think we ever were supposed to be friends." Virgil took a deep breath. Now. He had to tell him now. Bandaid, remember? Just tell him. Virgil opened his mouth, looking at Janus.

Right. Just out with it. "The truth is we're soulmates. I'm sorry I never told you, I was scared. But I love you, Janus." Right. That was all he had to say. Just three sentences. Go on, do it. Please, just get them out already. It's been years now. You've known since you were sixteen, you've known for four years now. He deserves to know, too.

In the end, he shook his head. "Sorry. I didn't mean it like that, I…" couldn't say it again. He ignored the tears gathering in his eyes as he turned away from Janus's hurt look. "I'm not feeling that good."

And he ran. He ran away, like he always did. God, he was such a coward. And for what?

At home, he pulled out the letter from last year. Then, he screamed. He couldn't take it anymore, he just screamed and sobbed. And he knew that it wasn't fair, that he'd done this to himself, but he was in so much pain. He just couldn't take it.

But he'd done this to himself. By hesitating, by not giving the letter, by ruining what little relationship he had with his soulmate, by pushing him away, by lying, by not saying what he wanted to. And what for? A fleeting happiness, a failed relationship, a churning ball of fear in his stomach?

Virgil didn't mean for it to get that bad. He meant to stop earlier. He didn't mean for the wounds to be that deep either. But they did, and he didn't, and he only really realised when he got dizzy at standing up. Oh. Oh, that was a lot of blood. And he was still bleeding. Damnit, he needed help. But who would…? Who could…

He grabbed his phone and called the first number in his contacts. It was Remus's voice that picked up after the second ring. "Hey, Rem. It's me." He winced at how weak his voice sounded. "I, uh… I did something stupid. And I know I've been an asshole, but I really, really need your help."

"Janus said you didn't feel so good." Remus sounded genuinely worried. And was that Janus's voice in the background? It was, wasn't it? Tears sprung to his eyes again.

"Yeah. Hey, tell him I'm sorry for me? I wanted to say something, but I didn't again, and… yeah." He couldn't understand the response he got. Blinking, he tried to stay awake. Falling asleep was bad, right? Oh, right. Remus. "Listen, Remus, I… Did something stupid. There's a lot of blood. I think I need to go to the hospital."

"Blood? The hospital? Virgil what did you do?!"

He flinched at the panicked voice. That didn't suit Remus at all. Wait, wasn't that Janus? Had Remus put him on speaker? Well, it didn't matter, really. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to." He said instead. And then: "I'm scared."

"Okay. Okay, shit. We're almost there. It's alright, we're almost- Take a left, Re, that's faster. We're almost there, okay Virge?"

"Okay." He hesitated, lump in his throat. He thought he could feel tears running down his face, but he was a bit too out of it to be sure. "Thank you."

They kept their word. He could hear Janus's shocked cry and Remus's cussing before the darkness took over.

❖

When he woke up, he was in a white room. Around him, he could see a bunch of people. One with dirty blonde hair and freckles, holding hands with a brunette with glasses. Next to them sat a man with similar glasses and black hair. On the other side was a man much like the first, but with one strand dyed silver and the rest chestnut brown. And another man, who stole the breath right out of his lunges.

Long, golden hair, tied up to a bun, pale skin, warm eyes somewhere between gold and brown, and a snake tattoo on his left cheek. He wore black, with yellow and gold accessories, and he was absolutely stunning. Around him there were weird fireworks, almost like glitter. Did the others see that, too? It was blue, and something inside him told him that that was worry. The same part clenched around his heart, demanding to make the worry go away.

But… "Who are you?"

They all gasped, looking at him. "Virgil?! Oh my god, you're awake." That was the voice of the man with the dyed hair. What was his name? He couldn't quite remember.

"I don't… Who are you? Where am I? Do I know you? I think I know you, but…" He trailed off, regretting having said anything when hurt crossed the stunning man's face. "Sorry."

"Oh, no, you don't… I'm sorry. I should've noticed you were hurting." He sighed, putting on an obviously fake smile as he grabbed his - Virgil's? His name was Virgil, had the man said, right? - hand. "We are your friends, Virgil. That's Logan, Patton, Roman, and Remus. And I am Janus." Janus. Yeah, Virgil though, that fit him. But somehow, Janus looked like he was steeling himself for something. He took a deep breath, smiling more, tears in those wonderful eyes. "I'm you soulmate."

"My soulmate?"

Janus nodded, clutching a purple piece of paper in his hand. "Yes. It's a bit complicated, but, I am. We're soulmates."

Virgil nodded, looking around. There were a lot of people around him. And they all looked so happy to see him awake. His friends and his soulmate, huh? Virgil looked back to Janus. "There's a lot of people here."

"Do you want us to go, kiddo?" That was Patton who'd said that, right? He sounded sad at the idea, and Virgil didn't like it much either. So he shook his head.

"No. I was just thinking, there's a lot of people caring about me."

He got a few sad smiles in return. "Of course, Virge. We all love you very much. And don't you dare to forget that again, you hear?" Janus clenched Virgil's hand in his and put it to his forehead, almost desperately. "Don't you ever dare forget that I love you. You idiot."

General taglist🖤: @gattonero17 @alias290

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gotnofucks · 4 years

Text

Master of His Own Fate

Pairing: dark!Bucky x Reader, dark!Steve x Reader

Summary: As far as Bucky knew, fate would not decide who you belong to. Very twisted dark soulmate AU.

Words: 3.3k

Warning: forced bonding (in a way), blood, violence, messed up stuff, language, noncon (if you squint). 18+ ONLY

MASTERLIST

A/n: I have no idea how this got deleted ^.^

Part 2

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

Bucky crushed the phone in his hand and let the broken pieces clatter to the floor. His whole body trembled with barely restrained anger and he took deep breaths to calm himself. How could you do this to him. How dare you.

You’d known each other for two years now since you joined the Avengers Medical team at the tower. As someone who frequented the med bay a lot, you both saw a lot of each other. Bucky knew from the moment he saw you that you were a sweetheart. His sweetheart. He didn’t care that the initials on your wrist were not his. He didn’t care about the stupid Soulmate legend. You were made for him and that was the end of it. So why now did he find your profile on findmysoulmate app? Why were you looking for the person whose name matched the initials on your wrist when the one who you belonged to was right here?

“Buck, you okay pal?”, Steve asked, and Bucky’s gaze flew to him.

“No. I am not alright. My girl has decided to whore herself out to other men and I am not fucking alright Steve!”

“Your girl…Y/n would never do that. I just saw her this morning.”

When the people said Steve and Bucky were best friends on and off field, they forgot to mention about how alike they were in their thinking too. If Bucky said you belonged to him, Steve believed him, no questions asked.

“She has a profile on findmysoulmate. I saw it. She’s looking for him, whoever he is!” Bucky shouted and then started pacing back and forth. Steve let him work out his frustration for a minute before stopping him with a hand on his shoulder.

“You know, maybe you should finally talk to her now. She’s young, innocent. And she spends awful amount of time with Wanda who never shuts up about soulmates. She’s impressionable and must have been confused. You can put that right. Let her know who owns her.” Steve said gently. Bucky blinked at Steve then nodded. It made sense after all. You were a nice girl. You would never intentionally break his heart.

“Yeah, I think you’re right. I need to let her know she’s mine. I’ve waited long enough for her to come to the conclusion on her own anyway. She’s young, she needs help to see it.”

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

You were returning to the compound after a day of disappointment and exhaustion. Wanda had convinced you to make an account on findmysoulmate and post a pic of the initials on your wrist. Everyone wasn’t born with some stranger’s initials tattooed on their body. You’d lived with these two letters since the day you were born, and people had told you how lucky you were to be gifted with someone special. They did not however understand how utterly taxing it could be to have a soulmate. Finding the person you are destined for is not easy, since they could be anywhere in the world, in any country. You had no luck finding him, whoever he was, and you were losing hope.

People who didn’t have their soulmarks didn’t understand the burden it came with. Once you knew that there was someone out there in the world for you who was going to be in absolute sync with you, you just couldn’t settle for anyone else. It doesn’t matter how many nice men you met or dated, you kept thinking about the person you’re meant to be with. You can’t be happy with anyone else, ever. For the longest time now, you’d ignored your soulmark after having no idea who the initials belonged to. You couldn’t live your life searching for him. Instead, you focused on your studies and honed your skills until you became the youngest doctor to join the avengers. You loved working here and the busy atmosphere almost always took your mind off things. But then you met Wanda Maximoff and the girl wouldn’t shut up about the mystery man you’re meant to “marry and have cute cute kids with who’ll call me auntie Won-Won!”. How Wanda convinced you to not just join the app but go on a date with a man who matched your soulmark you don’t know. But it was a disaster. Though the man had your initials on his wrist too, it was more than obvious in the first few minutes that you both were not the people destiny paired together. Not only was he a pervert whose gaze barely lifted from your cleavage, but he was also a junkie who took out a pouch from his pocket and laid down two lines of coke on the table as dessert. After you had made sure to report your date and pay for the miserable dinner, you’d gone out on a drive and stopped by every food cart on the way to indulge in comfort food.

Now, it was way past midnight as you returned to the compound with your beautiful dress wrinkled and makeup smudged from crying. You were tired and you vowed to give a piece of your mind to Wanda the first thing tomorrow morning, right after chucking your phone in her face. You entered the security pin to your apartment and shut the door behind you, blindly searching for the switchboard. Flicking it on, you removed your high heels and sighed in relief.

“Welcome back.”

You screamed and stumbled back, before you recognized the figure sitting in your living room. Bucky had his legs crossed at his ankle and he was drinking whatever soda you’d left in the fridge.

“What the fuck, Bucky? You scared me to death!” You huffed in annoyance. “What are you doing here at this hour anyway?”

Bucky took another gulp of his drink before setting his glass down and looked at you with a frown.

“The question should be where the fuck have you been all this time? I’ve been here since seven in the evening and you are returning hours later looking like you just spent a few hours sucking some good for nothing bastard’s dick.” He had never cursed in front of you like that or been rude to you.

“Excuse me, what the hell is wrong with you. I – You know what, just leave. I’m too tired to deal with anyone’s shit at the moment. Go.” You just wanted to burrow in your bed and sleep your horrible day off. You’ll worry about a cranky Bucky tomorrow.

“No, I think we’ll stay.”

“We?”

That was when Steve emerged from your kitchen and you tried your best to rouse your half-asleep mind. Bucky and Steve were in your apartment after midnight, without your consent and they seemed less than friendly. You looked at them cautiously, very sure they were in no need of emergency medical aid to prompt this visit. Both of them were frowning at you, their eyes displeased at your ruffled appearance.

“I don’t know what’s going on, but I am seriously too tired to care. I had the most horrible date of my life and I’m sure I ate too much and will end up puking in the morning. Whatever you have to say, can it wait until tomorrow?” You were already crossing the hall to your bedroom as you spoke, but Bucky quickly stood up and stopped you with a grip on your arm.

“You were on a date?” He growled and looked at Steve as if to say, ‘what did I tell you’.

You shrugged his arm off, the cold metal of it waking you up along with the dark tone of his voice. Suddenly, though you were in your home, you felt unsafe. It was bizarre because these were two avengers who you counted as friends and felt very secure with, but you gut was screaming at you to get as far away from them as possible. The very peculiar feeling of fear formed in your gut, the very same one that women get when they know they are being stalked in a dark alley at night. You hesitantly moved away from Bucky, only to bump into Steve. You peered at him over your shoulder and he wore the most disappointed expression you had ever seen on his face.

“Where do you think you’re going Y/n? Bucky asked you something, answer him.” Steve said and pushed you towards his friend with a hand on your back. Bucky crossed his arms over his chest and looked at you, waiting. You felt trapped, your exhaustion waning with every passing second.

“What’s happening guys? You both are scaring me.” You said.

“Maybe you should be scared, sweetheart. You just came home having spent the last few hours with a man who’s not me and going by the state of you, your evening was very eventful. Did you let him cum in you? Did you compare those tattoos on your wrists and make plans for future?” Bucky had crept closer and now he was inches apart, his words spoken directly in your face.

You blinked almost stupidly at this sudden twist in your night. Bucky was angry at you for having gone to a date, Steve was disappointed. But that makes no sense. Why should it matter to them at all, unless for some reason Bucky thinks…?

“Buck, you are my friend. I don’t know why you’re talking this way. Why you sound so –”

“– So jealous? Because you fucking belong to me. You have always belonged to me.”

The moment the words left him, your worst suspicions were confirmed, and you wasted not one second before sprinting for the door. You think you would have managed to evade Bucky had Steve not been there. He seemed to have been waiting for you to make a move and you had taken only a step before you were grabbed by the back of your neck and pulled into Steve’s body.

“Stop! Both of you! Let me go!” You struggled but Steve held you fast and soon Bucky was at your back, his breath on your neck and hands capturing your arms.

“Baby, you need to slow down. Your squirming is turning me the hell on and as much as I would love to wipe any other man’s essence from you, we need to do something else first.” Bucky said and a second later he bit your neck making you screech. He kept pushing his teeth in, breaking your skin and you felt blood pooling in the juncture of your neck.

“Buck, stop.” Steve said and threw Bucky off you with a powerful shove. “Shit, come here sweetie.” You were cradled in Steve’s embrace, his handkerchief at your neck putting pressure on the wound and hand caressing your head. When Bucky made to move forward you whimpered and Steve stopped him with a raised hand.

“Baby, I am so sorry, I don’t know what came over me.” Bucky said and you looked at him with tear filled eyes. Your day today has been a whirlwind of shitstorm and you just wanted it to be over so you could forget everything about it.

“Y/n look at me” Steve said softly and raised your face to his with a finger. “Did you have sex with your date tonight?”

His voice and actions were so soft compared to Bucky’s that you shuffled closer to his warmth and shook your head.

“No, I left early. It was terrible, so so terrible that I went out for a drive to clear my mind. I didn’t expect to be so late, but time just flew away.”

You knew you didn’t owe them any explanation; you knew they don’t have any right to ask anything from you. But you were tired, exhausted, shit scared and absolutely terrified of what they would do to you if you didn’t answer them. They were genetically enhanced super soldiers while you were a brainiac doctor who worked overtime to avoid thinking about a man she had never met. You were no match for them physically and you were smart enough to accept defeat when you had to.

“Shh, I got you sweetie. You’re a good girl, aren’t you? I know you’re so tired of being alone, of not having someone with you. But you’re so naïve. Look behind you, the perfect man who will love you more than anyone else is standing right here.” Steve said and turned you to face Bucky. Bucky slowly walked to you and held your hands, kissing both in apology.

“I know this seems sudden but believe me when I say that I’ve loved you practically from the first moment I saw you. Everything about you sets my nerve endings on fire. You dominate every part of my life: my thoughts, my dreams, my very breath has your name on it. You’re mine.”

Your breath caught in your throat in fear. This could not be happening to you. You struggled to remove your hands from Bucky’s, and he relented in the end with reluctance, a scowl on his handsome face.

“Bucky listen to yourself. You’re talking like a crazy man. I don’t belong to you, I literally can’t. I belong with him.” You said pointing at the initials on your wrist. You knew immediately you’d made a big mistake because every last bit of sanity faded from Bucky’s blue eyes and they turned feral. He crowded you and his hands, tight as steel brands, caged your body.

“How dare you, hm? How dare you talk about belonging to someone else in front of me? Don’t think for one second sweetheart that just because I love you, I’ll not punish you.” His voice had gone soft, the way it does when he’s as his most dangerous. Steve stirred somewhere behind you, but your eyes were locked in terror to Bucky’s who pinned you frozen with his glare.

“Buck, please…” You didn’t even know what you were asking him for. He apparently didn’t care to know because he had started dragging you across the hall towards your bedroom while you shouted and wrestled in his grip. You shouted for help and begged Steve to help you, but he had was silent and watched you being hauled to your room with no emotion on his face.

Bucky entered your room and swiftly pushed you to sit at the edge of the bed, one hand on your shoulder and other grabbing fistful of your hair to manipulate your head. You were pulled up and his kiss descended on you with the force of a truck, knocking you back and his body followed. He swallowed your moans and protests, teeth clashing against each other’s. You barely noticed his hand reaching for the hem of your dress and then the ripping sound echoed around your room and cool air met your bare skin.

“Please, don’t!” You said, hiding your breast with your hands. Bucky stood with his gaze fixed on your body and when his hand reached for his pants you started sobbing. Curiously, he didn’t reach for his zipper but instead fished from his pocket his trusty knife. You whole body began shaking enough to rattle your teeth and gibberish spilled from your parted mouth in fear.

“Don’t look at me like that baby, I will not kill you.” Bucky said but you were far from reassured.

You saw Steve enter the room from the corner of your eyes and heard the door shut. He walked swiftly to Bucky’s side and restrained the hand with the knife.

“What the hell are you doing pal? You’re scaring her, put this thing away.” Ever the voice of reason but Bucky looked at him imploringly.

“Don’t you see it Steve? Look at her wrist. As long as she lives, she’ll live with this ‘what if’. But we can change that. Set her free from whoever this man is.”

While the talked you made your last attempt to escape and jumped out of bed towards the door. You could almost taste the freedom on your tongue, the door knob was clenched in your hand when you were yanked back by Steve who hoisted your twisting body on his shoulder and dumped you back on bed with almost no effort. You curled in yourself, acutely aware of your nakedness.

“Don’t take away my soulmark, please. Don’t cut it!” You croaked out and Bucky looked at you with his head titled.

“Cut your arm? No no my love, you’ve got it wrong. I won’t cut your arm” He assured and bent over you to kiss your sweaty brow. “I’ll carve myself into you.”

With that he straddled your waist and kissed you again, the cold knife in his hand making a terrifying trail down your cheek to you neck and collarbone, before stopping right above your heart.

“You think these letters on your wrist make you someone else’s? Well, guess what sweetheart, I’ll put my letters on your heart. Then you’ll become mine!”

Your body jerked violently under his trying to buck him away and Bucky urged Steve to take hold of your arms. You lay prone with a hoarse throat and watched with fascinated horror and pain as Bucky’s knife nicked your skin and glided smoothly to form his initials. He was great with knives, so it hurt less, and the effect was neat. He wiped away the blood and you could see shining on your skin, right over your heart the initials: JBB.

You belonged with, no, you belonged to James Buchanan Barnes.

Your tears had stopped, and you lay limp on the bed, lower half immobile under Bucky’s weight while your arms were held fast in Steve’s. The fight had left your body and you wanted to drown in the numbing embrace of sleep.

“I’ve let too many people control me all my life. The army, then Hydra, even Avengers. They order me and I follow like a good soldier. But I won’t let anyone take you away from me. Not even fate. I’ll be the master of my own fate. You bear my marks now. You’re mine.”

His weight was gone, and he said something about getting you water before leaving the room. You didn’t move but when Steve lifted you a little, so you were in a comfortable position, you for some reason reached out to him and nuzzled your face into his chest to weep. His large hand patted your head and back, voice soothing as he shushed you.

Bucky came back with a chilled glass of water and painkillers but stopped at the door, watching you in Steve’s arm. Your eyes met his and you thought he’d be jealous and pissed but a content smile lit up his lips.

“Steve” His voice rang out and Steve looked at him. Whatever passed in that wordless gaze you couldn’t tell but a minute later Steve was puling you harder to his chest and his lips were pressed in your hair.

“I’m sorry” He whispered in your ear and he did genuinely sound upset. “If there was another way, I swear I would do it.”

Before you could ask what he meant, he rolled off the bed and resumed his position of taking hold of your arms. Bucky was again over you with his knife and a wild, almost passionately crazy look in his eyes. The knife was back over your heart but just below the three newly carved letters into your skin. As it sliced into you again, Bucky spoke.

“You can’t belong to me without belonging to him too, for we both are one. And after tonight, the three of us will be bound together.”

The blood forged a small river down your breast, and you hissed as a neat SGR was carved into you.

“You’re our girl Y/n.”

They cleaned you up and dressed you in your softest nightdress, both super soldiers on either side of you. They each held a hand of yours and their own clasped hands lay on your stomach as they slept. It didn’t matter now who was the man who bore your marks. Fate was too late.

#dark!steve x reader #dark!bucky x reader #dark!steve rogers x reader #dark!bucky barnes x reader #steve x reader #bucky x reader #dark!steve rogers #dark!bucky barnes #chris evans x reader #sebastian stan x reader #dark!stucky x reader #stucky x reader

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interstellarrambles · 4 years

Note

I have a request with Pete, where in a interview with the Charlamagne the god he asked Pete about dating someone, I was wondering for the request when he’s asked if he’s seeing someone? Pete says that’s he’s seeing someone but they’re not famous, they’re just a normal human being, and he’s being quiet about his relationship with this person because he doesn’t want it the paparazzi spilling everything out of portion and loves how it’s been quiet and fun??

pete davidson x female!reader

warnings: uh maybe some implied smut

a/n: I'm so grateful you all enjoyed my pete davidson content, I seriously couldn't be happier with the reactions so keep sending in requests!

privacy. pd

to say Pete hadn't had his fair share of relationships would be a lie, but this time, there was something significantly different. even though his heart fluttered whenever he heard your name or was even remotely reminded of you, he had tried so desperately to keep your relationship private considering the effects fame had had on his previous loves.

twisting and turning, his nerves were building just waiting for Charlamagne to ask about relationships: everyone always wanted to know about his girlfriends before him. so far in the interview, Charlamagne had steered the topic back onto Pete himself and his own endeavours before anything else, but he knew it was coming soon.

the past year had been a double edged sword: Pete had been able to move on somewhat from the paparazzi hounding him about Ariana but they still camped outside his house, putting him and you on edge. now, pete was in no way ashamed of your relationship (quite the opposite really) and he would often have to bite his lip to keep the secrets within, but you had both decided it would both simpler and safer in the long run to be as private as possible. it was never really difficult either since you lived a somewhat normal life outside of your relationship and Pete had already retracted from social media by the time he had met you.

slow paced to say the least, your relationship took a while to blossom from a friendship to something more, but Pete wouldn't have it any other way. somehow it felt more special to bring you flowers unexpectedly; to wait for you after your work to take you to your favourite takeaway; to wait a few months to kiss you properly and to wait even longer to sleep together.

intimacy in public was never really an option for you, but stolen almost voyeuristic moments sprinkled into dinners out and day trips made both of you giddy. hands slipped and smiles returned while your lips occupied themselves elsewhere, the risk of the encounters making everything so much more heightened.

it really did pay off and now your ability to communicate with each other even without words was unmatched. amazing him every time with your observational skills, you could tell when Pete needed respite from work or the toll of his mental health and knew exactly how to take his mind off of it all.

in return, Pete had learnt how to tell when you were having a bad day and had taught himself with little help from you, how to make it a million times better.

therefore, when Pete saw Charlamange physically hesitate before letting a question roll off his tongue, he knew exactly what was coming. adorning his skin with the dates you became official, as well as with your initials, the tattoos he had relating to you quickly gathered press attention. they werent particularly large or eye-catching in any way, but when paired with pap videos of him in restaurants around NY with a random girl, he was quickly hounded by media outlets desperate for the details.

"so, having spoken about your past and the past lovers you've had, is it fair to say you're with someone now?" to be fair to him, Charlamagne was extremely polite and respectful when approaching the topic, but Pete still struggled with finding the right words to say.

nothing would ever do you justice, he was convinced. worshipping your body with sweet praises; reminding you of your importance to him; finding ways to constantly brighten your day: Pete did his best to be good enough for you and you'd love him forever for the way he treated you so well. therefore, when speaking about you in public for the first time ever, he wanted to make the words right.

taking a moment to smile nervously, he began slowly, "I am with someone yeah. she's just unbelievably amazing and I'll never stop falling for her, like damn I really can't catch a break around her," laughing with the host, Pete took another second to gather his thoughts.

"I've reflected on my past and learnt from it and that's why we decided to keep it private you-know. after all the shit that happened with me and Ariana, I learnt just how crazy the paparazzi can get. she's not in the spotlight at all, she's not a celebrity or anything like that so I guess it was easier, hence why you've not heard much about it," he explained it almost effortlessly as though he hadn't spent hours deliberating how to talk about this when asked.

sensing how Pete was somewhat inept at discussing this topic, Charlamange guided the topic elsewhere, feeling proud almost when he saw the other man slightly relax. persistent though, he couldn't quite get his mind off you, tripping over how much he'd already fallen in such a small time space.

and when he imagined you curled up, waiting at home after a long day at work, he couldn't imagine anything else he'd rather do than fall even harder.

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hockeyboysiguess · 4 years

Text

two letters | e. pettersson

a/n: this just sort of happened today. i hope you all like it!

word count: 3,227

wine pairing recommendation: whatever your favorite is, your most loved. mine? a nice cold riesling. but love is personal after all :)

warnings: veryyy soft and subtle smut

Nerves you thought wouldn’t come were suddenly here, flowing through you, dancing under your skin, sponsored by the text from Elias saying he was back at his car, back in Vancouver and on his way back to you. Two week road trips were always the hardest; two weeks in your bed that was way too big for just you. Seeing him after a long, successful road trip was always exciting. You were excited. You were also just the kind of nervous that made your palms sweat and thoughts of regret you didn’t actually have fabricate themselves out of nothing in your mind.

You placed a hand on your rib cage softly, covering where the new addition to your body was. You had been thinking about it for a while, the urge spurred on by Elias’s brother’s girlfriend, who assured you repeatedly Elias would love it, that it was exactly the kind of thing he would appreciate. She encouraged you from half a world away to surprise him with it, telling you that you needed to do it when Elias was out of town on the longest road trip of the year. You had picked the date months before and kept the secret and it stayed a secret until Elias walked in the front door.

Elias was consistent, as always. He dropped his bags by the front door and came looking for you, the reason he loved Vancouver more now than he ever had before, the reason it felt like home. You felt him before you saw him, arms wrapping around your waist, chest pressing against your back. His lips found your neck, placing a soft kiss on the exposed skin above the neckline of your sweatshirt, his sweatshirt really.

“Hey, you.” You smiled as you spoke, a hand rubbing over his forearm. You always smiled when Elias was involved. “Flight okay?”

“Mhm,” he mumbled, lips still on your neck, kissing softly up and down, slowly and steadily. “Missed you.”

You didn’t miss a beat as you reached a hand back to run through the soft hair at the nape of his neck, “Missed you too, Elias, always.”

He smiled against your neck, dropping a kiss right below your ear, before finally pulling back. His hands slid to your hips, gently tugging, letting you know he wanted you to turn to face him. You obliged, turning into him, where his lips immediately captured yours in a kiss that reminded you just why every road trip, every stressful night without him, every moment you didn’t have him, was worth it. It was worth it because Elias Pettersson loved you. He loved you in a way you never thought possible for yourself because you didn’t think love this precious existed anywhere outside of stories and tales passed down by people with nothing better in their own lives to do then tell stories. Elias Pettersson loved you deeply, with every part of him, so fully it spread into the spaces between his atoms. He loved you carefully. People romanticized reckless love because they’ve never known what it’s like to be loved any differently, loved by someone who took their time because you and the beautiful tomorrow you could create together were more important than the moment today.

Elias Pettersson didn’t fall in love with you because falling was too accidental, too careless for how it had really happened. He explored every part of you first, your deepest faults, your shortest shortcomings, your highest mountains of goodness so good he felt not good enough for you when he stood in their shadows. Elias Pettersson drew a map of your soul, more complete than you even thought anyone else ever could, and decided he loved you, every part of you, and he never looked back. You felt it every single time his lips meant yours. People thought Elias was quiet, which was true if you considered spoken word the only way to speak. Elias spoke his love into you every single time he kissed you. His love was loud between you and him alone. It wasn’t for everyone else and never would be. Being loved by Elias was the most intimate thing you had ever felt, and he made sure you felt it in every movement, every kiss, every breath.

His hands slid under your sweatshirt as his mouth pressed against yours, pulling your sweatshirt up with them. You pulled away from him enough that he could slide it over your head and toss it to the bedroom floor. His mouth found your neck again and his hands pulled you with him as he sat down on the edge of the bed, settling you onto his lap, a leg on either side of his. His hands ghosted over your skin, sliding up your sides, around and up your back, then back again. You hummed softly as his lips trailed over your collarbone, nipping ever so gently at the thin skin there.

“I sort of got something, well, did something for you,” you told him softly, running a hand through his hair as he pulled his head back from you.

His blue eyes found yours, steady and patience, waiting for you to speak. Elias had waited two weeks for this again. He could wait another minute or two, as long as you were right here, topless on his lap anyway. He kissed you softly, tenderly, for a moment, then pulled back, letting his hands rest on the mattress behind him to hold his weight. He was expecting you to get up to get whatever it was you were talking about, but you didn’t. You just took a deep breath instead and turned away from him slightly. Elias was so focused on your face, he didn’t notice until you fingertips travelled over the skin just under your breast on your ribcage. You didn’t say anything when you heard his breath hitch in his throat, just let yourself wait for him to do something.

Elias shifted forward, reaching a hand hesitantly out to the new addition to your body. His fingertips brushed over the skin so gently you almost didn’t notice, before he did it again, with a little more pressure this time. His other arm wrapped around your waist, securing you in place as he focused on the delicate, black script on your skin. Just two lowercase letters, that’s all you’d done. A single lowercase ‘e’ and a single lowercase ‘p’ was all it was, except it was so much more than that. It was for him, a tattoo for him of the letters for his name because of your love for him. Really, because of his love for you. No one loved you like Elias Pettersson, who you were pretty sure you had loved time and time again before in past lives and would like time and time again in future ones. He loved you in a way that made you have to believe he’d done it before, countless other times, because he did it perfectly in the most effortless way. You didn’t think people were made for each other, until you met Elias and realized he’d been making himself perfect for you for what had to be eons as you did the same for him for loving him to be this perfect.

Elias’s mouth opened softly, but no sound came out as his fingers worked over the tattoo over and over again, moving with the letters slowly. The heat from his fingers was warming your skin, and somehow was making the tattoo feel all the more real, all the more permanent.

“I love you too,” he told you, voice barely above a whisper.

Too because that’s what this told him so loudly and clearly, without speaking at all. Too because you tattooed his initials onto your skin, a permanent indication that you never wanted anyone other than him for the rest of your life, even though Elias already knew that to be true. Too because no one had ever loved him as well as you did, and he was just desperately making sure you knew how much he loved the way you loved him.

Elias finally took his eyes, but not his fingers, from the lettering, just so he could capture your mouth in a kiss that tried to say thank you as clearly as Elias knew how to make it say so. You deepened the kiss gratefully, your hands cupping his face as his arm around your waist drug you in closer to him. You felt a wetness on your fingertips on his cheeks and pulled back slowly to look at him, seeing a few tears slip from his eyes. Elias was crying, but there was a smile on his face.

“I love you too,” he repeated softly, assuring you that the only reason he was crying was because he loved you, “so much.”

He turned his head until his lips grazed over your palm on his cheek, pressing a soft kiss there. You smiled as his face turned back to yours and slowly let your thumbs rub over his cheeks to wipe the happy tears away. Elias leaned forward once you finished to place a searing kiss on your lips, one that reminded you where this had started before your surprise put a pause on everything. You rolled your hips slowly into his and he groaned into your mouth, hand on your hip pressing a little harder, encouraging your movements.

Elias kissed down your jaw, your neck, across your collarbone again, taking his time, savoring every moment. He was never in a rush, always letting himself enjoy every moment like this. He kissed over your chest to where his fingers were rubbing softly over the tattoo. He mumbled against your skin, something you couldn’t catch in Swedish, a habit that you were pretty sure would never go away. He pressed a kiss softly to the tattoo, then another, then another. He whispered softly against it, words sliding out in his native tongue, his mind unable to focus enough for anything else. You caught a series of broken ‘I love you’s which told you what everything around his words was. It was all him telling you that he loved you in as many words as he wanted to. Sometimes Elias didn’t use any. Sometimes he told you with a kiss. Sometimes he told you with entire romantic soliloquies in a language you didn’t speak.

“I need you, ‘Lias,” you reminded him softly, running your fingers through his hair as he kissed the tattoo again, slowly pulling him back with your words to remind him you were in his lap and ready for something else too.

“I need you too.”

You both fumbled with your clothes, hands trying to stay on each other, but ultimately needing to part to actually get your clothes off. Elias had you back in his lap as fast as he could, wanting you as close to him as possible tonight. His mouth on your neck, hands on your hips, skin to skin, he mumbled that he loved you into your skin again, like if he said it enough it would become a tattoo, forever on your skin, forever another reminder of his love for you. His hands rubbed your hips softly, gently pressing and massaging them. Elias pulled his head back to let his eyes meet yours, pupils blown, lips parted, and so in love with you. You placed your hands on his shoulders and lifted yourself up just enough for him to slide into you. His eyes closed for a moment as you painstakingly brought your hips down to his, just letting himself feel everything.

His hands on your hips slowly tugged you forward and pushed you backward, encouraging your movements on his lap, while his mouth kissed everywhere he could reach. Kisses on your mouth making you lightheaded. Kisses on your neck pulling moans that would have been embarrassing with anyone other than Elias, who just spurred them on more. Kisses across your collarbones, a personal favorite of his, that had you tugging at the hair at the nape of his neck. Once you found your rhythm, his hands started wandering, ghosting across your body, every inch he could reach. Over your thighs, your hips, the small of your back which always made you gasp a little, down your arms, over your hands in his hair. All you could feel was him and all he wanted to feel was you. You were both getting exactly what you wanted tonight.

“I love you, Elias,” you told him softly, your voice clipped at the end as his mouth kissed the shell of your ear, sending a shiver down your spin.

He didn’t answer with words. Instead he dropped his head down and kissed the tattoo he loved beyond belief already. You never had to tell him you loved him with words again before you moved onto your next life with him and he would move on knowing how much you loved him in this one. It was plain and clear on your skin, a message for him and him alone, that you loved him as deeply as he loved you.

You could feel him tensing under your hands, against your body. He dropped a hand in between you, the other over that spot on your body inked for him that was now without a doubt his favorite part of you. He coaxed you over the edge with him, with his fingers and soft words about how much he loved you whispered into your ear, unraveling with you so easily, like he was made to do it with you.

“I love you,” he told you softly as he let you catch your breath against him, your face having fallen into his neck as you finished, his arms around your waist to hold you close.

“I love you so much, Elias,” you told him in return.

“I know.”

Elias didn’t say it to be cocky. It was a statement meant to assure you that he understood the weight behind the two little cursive letters forever on your body. He understood you didn’t love him in the way you said you loved other people before him. You loved him in a way that only he could fully understand and you were telling him in a way he understood, without words, a forever mark he could always ground himself in if there were ever moments of doubt, of stress, of struggle, outside of you and him. Your love for him was his ground, his home to come back to if there was anything in his life that was pulling him apart. Your love held him together always. Elias Pettersson loved every part of you, but most of all, he loved the way you loved him.

You slid off his lap after a few moments, finding your clothes that were really his again. Elias slid out to the living room first, turning on the kettle, your routine when he came home from trips. He made the tea. You found him clothes to wear. You met together on the couch for an episode of whatever show you were watching together. He put on the clothes you brought in exchange for giving you your tea, taking care of the simplest of needs for each other. Elias thrived in the routine of it all, but also in the idea that love could be the smallest things, like making a cup of tea.

You sighed as you laid your head into Elias’s lap, tea cooling to a drinkable temperature on the coffee table, and let your eyes droop closed as the smell and feeling of being close to him engulfed you, warming you from the inside out. One of his hands ran through your hair softly, nails scratching over your scalp gently, making you hum softly in pleasure. Elias laughed lightly and gave your hair a little ruffle to let you know he appreciated you speaking his language, his one without words. He shifted, other hand steadily raking through your hair now, calming you, as his other trailed down your body. His hand came to the edge of your sweatshirt, well, his sweatshirt you were wearing, and slowly pushed it up, hand running over your skin as he did, leaving a trail of goosebumps in the wake of his touch.

He stopped when he came to just under your chest, where you had nestled the delicate tattoo in the space where only he would ever see it. It was for you and Elias and no one else. It wasn’t showy; it was just a show of love. Elias told you he loved you, of course he did, but Elias had never said all that much, early moments tonight aside. He was careful with his words and his actions, considering every option before moving forward, having decided without a shadow of a doubt the path he chose was the one he wanted. When he told you he loved you, he knew that in telling you, he was putting himself down the path for a long list of very serious and very life altering possibilities with you, and he had told you anyway. You moved in with him and he was ready for it, having already considered it when he decided to tell you that he loved you months before it happened. He had a deeply hidden note in his phone, one where he complied every bit you let slip out that he could use to make sure when he did design a ring, it was the perfect one for you. That note was started the day he decided to tell you that he loved you and Elias had never looked back on that decision and never wanted to.

Now, his fingers hesitantly, as if he was scared it would disappear under the pressure of his fingers, he delicately traces the curves of the tattoo, just a lowercase e and p. That’s all it was, but it meant the entire world to Elias. It was your way of showing you thought like him for even just a moment to do this, that you loved him exactly the way he loved you, the kind that you never fell out of. He didn’t hope, he knew as his fingers traced over the small ‘p’ that one day it would be one of your initials too, if you wanted to change it. Elias didn’t care much if you did. It was an outward display of love, something for everyone else to notice, something Elias didn’t seem much value in. Your children would have it though, and the thought made his heart swell in his chest. Who would have thought two small cursive letters would make him feel like this?

You had, which is why you had done it, and why you didn’t regret it for a single second, because you knew you would never regret loving Elias Pettersson, not for a single moment of this life, or the next thousand if that’s how it all really worked. You didn’t know if it was, but you loved him like you’d loved him for thousands of years already and he loved you the same way. And what a beautiful thing it was to love someone and be loved by that someone the same way.

#elias pettersson #elias pettersson fanfic #elias pettersson writing #elias pettersson imagine #nhl fanfic #nhl fanfiction #nhl fic #nhl blurbs #nhl imagine #Hockey Fanfiction #hockey writing #hockey imagine

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harryswatermelonsegment · 4 years

Text

Pool Party

Pairing: Reader/Harry Styles

Rating: R, text book smut

Word Count: 5k 😳

Warnings: Slight sub/dom tones I guess? & alcohol consumption

A/N: Sorry this is late, life somewhat resuming here in the UK so it means I’m back at my job. I managed to fall asleep mid edit folks 😳, this is my entry for the @helladirections Summer Feeling Fic Challenge, with the prompt “pool party” click the link for the masterlist. I’m still writing two more, one for @berrynarrybanana ‘s Sex Bucketlist Challenge but it’s turning out to be a 20k slow burn I wasn’t expecting 😬.Oops. But enjoy this one, I’m proud of her. My one other blatant thirst fic can be found here. Reblogs get free gratitude for the next 5 years 🍉💕

You'd been friends with Jeff since your teens, when his parents (despite their wealth), wanted him to get a job at the restaurant you worked at. In their rightful thinking, they wanted him to learn you had to work from the ground up.

Despite your clearly different class background you found a ton of common interests making the whole thing immaterial. He was a caring, down to earth guy and you were both people who really enjoyed sarcastically taunting each other every shift. You'd got used to visiting his house in the hills even though you'd been scared to get lost at first around his parents large house. Becoming solid friends quickly, you'd managed to keep in touch, as much as adult life would now allow anyway.

You knew his main role was managing a pop star but you'd not caught up in a minute and when you did, you kept your job chat out of the conversation where you could. This is why, as you barge through the kitchen, to the pool outside, you're shocked to nearly knock a stunned Harry Styles onto his behind.

"Fuck, shit I'm so sorry" you clutch your chest looking at the red wine on his tank top and his now empty glass. The soiled garment was tucked into some dressy shorts and partly covered by a loud hawaiian patterned shirt. Oh god what had you done?

You were quite honestly mortified. You'd never actually met the man himself, usually meeting Jeff at his for a few drinks or at a restaurant. You'd heard him mentioned in stories about travelling or how his campaigns were running Jeff into the ground with meetings. So, although you weren't a massive fan of his per se, in the way you didn't ask Jeff for updates or info, the way you'd hope you'd meet the attractive pop star was definitely not this.

He looked down at the offending stain then back up into your eyes, keeping his head angled down and blinking through his lashes. You couldn't read his blank expression and it put you on edge.

Maybe it was the heat trapped in the doorway, but as your eyes stayed locked you suddenly felt a fire spread from your navel up to your cheeks, and then from your center down to your toes. Your lower stomach clenched as you stared back at the guy covered in a good 2007 French rouge.

Fuck me he's pretty, you thought.

A rapid film reel of moments; sweaty bodies, those large biceps holding you against the nearest wall, smacking of lips against skin and moans of release flashed in your brain.

It had definitely been a while since you had got laid in your defense, your mood and pent up sexual frustration getting worse by the day as you tried and failed at the L. A. dating scene. Maybe you were picky, but horny and picky was an awful place to be.

However, the reality of the embarrassing scene you were currently a star of, flipped you back into the present.

Seemingly over the initial incident and hopefully not a mind reader to your thirsty brain, he takes you in and smirks.

Harry knew from the way your breathing hitched looking at his torso that you were at least a bit interested. He had clocked you the second you walked in through the big glass doors. A shirt of a band he liked and a natural beauty he wanted to spend some times with you he pondered. Ideally naked.

Zig zagging across the world promoting the album and had left little time to enjoy another person. Status and obligation to his job making it hard to just go out and meet someone. But here you were, dressed unlike anyone else, looking absolutely adorable in your embarrassment. You must be trustworthy if you're in Jeff's home,he wasn't a "bring your friends too" kind of host with his clients usually around.

This could be a fun evening for you both, he thought. Something unspoken, almost magnetic, drawing you both to one another. Surely that wasn't all his side right?

"I was told it was a good year, but I wasn't planning on consuming it quite this way?" inwardly he rolled his eyes at the barely there quip. But you laughed anyway.

"I am so, so awfully sorry, look, let's see if there's some dish liquid or something, possibly some of my next months rent in there too if I have to replace it" you let out a nervous laugh as you walked towards the kitchen. But in all honesty you weren't kidding.

Harry laughed at your sarcastic remark, impressed by your confidence in owning the situation and getting on with things. He casually watched your hips sway past a few people in to the open plan kitchen with as much subtlety as he could, you were confidentially locating all the parts needed to try and remove the offending stain.

"You seem to know your way around 'ere. I'm er…I'm Harry by the way" awkwardly waving as you mixed some solution in the sink drenching a sponge in it.

"Yeah" you smiled turning from the sink with the damp rag "known Jeff a good while, have definitely spilt red wine here before. I'm Y/N" you giggle. The beam from his own mouth matching.

"Ah! Y/N, of course, I've heard him mention you, didn't you once hide rotting mackerel in a unpleasant guys blazer?" he chuckled

"Heyyyy. Only after he spanked my ass getting him the check. Deserved a hot plate to the crotch too" you shot back.

You weren't sure where to go from here the thought of wetting down the white tank yourself definitely appealed but also seemed far too forward.

"Um…" you began gesturing with the sponge in your hand. You expected him to take it from you to sort himself out but..

"Oh yeah sorry" he replied shimmying his shirt off, dumping it on the back of a bar stool, then, crossing his arms across his stomach and lifting the tank top over his head you were slack jawed and frozen taking in the lean muscles and tattoos littered intermittently across his abdomen. He spread the top across the islands worktop flat, then grabbing the sponge with a simple "thanks" and knitting his eyebrows together in concentration as he tried to rid the dull red mark from it's center.

You still hadn't moved. A pink twinge to your cheeks as you watched his shoulder blades and back muscles scrubbing. Dirty thoughts circling your brain still.

"I would have helped you but I didn't want to start a wet tshirt contest in such a high end establishment yknow?" you thought out loud.

"Oh yeah, good call. I'm fiercely competitive Y/N so would probably be under that fancy waterfall thing by now showing off m'moves in my pants" he wiggles his hips trying to suggestively show you his "moves" but you can't help but smirk at just how endearing this man is. Dammit.

When he's finished with his shirt he drapes it over another barstool before handing you the sponge back.

If anyone asks him if he blatantly and deliberately got naked to gauge if you were into him he'd definitely deny it. But the truth is, he definitely did. Luckily for him, with the way you bite your lip and drag your eyes down his flesh as he brushes past your side to get back to the sink, he's right.

"Speaking of getting in the water in your" you use air quotes "'pants' I'm off to get out of mine" you declare, pushing yourself from the counter and keeping eye contact a second as you stroll back to the sliding doors leading to the pool.

"I… What??"

" The pool Harry?.... What did you think I meant?" you narrow your eyes and press your lips together before shutting the glass door again and turning once more to smirk at the opened mouthed man still by the sink.

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

You'd been schmoozing in the water for a few hours now. There were probably only 20 or so people still here and the 3rd frozen marg had got you buzzed. You were in the small hot tub type pool, attached at the top of the main one on a slightly higher level. You hadn't seen Harry for a while but the last few times you caught his eye he'd been surrounded by at least 3 other people fighting for his attention, so you banked your flirtations to soothe your own ego, grabbed another marg and tried to forget about how he had started a tornado inside you, yearning for his hands on your thighs and head peering up at you from where they met in the middle. The strong pull of lust was clearly in your head then. What a shame.

You put it to the back of your mind as you finished catching up with Glenne. Both flushed and giggly as usual, she was the perfect match for Jeff and their chemistry unmatchable. You always enjoyed hanging out with the both of them, if anything, they gave you hope your own match may be out there. She left you in the tub alone, as she went to grab herself another drink and check on her host duties boyfriend.

"Don't you find drinking whilst already in water the weirdest thing?" you look up to find Harry standing over your right shoulder as you sit with your back against the pool wall and your elbows propping you up behind you, drink in one hand. His eyes unsubtley slip down to where your breasts lay pushed together in your halter neck bikini. You definitely weren't imagining it then. Fucking fantastic, you think.

"I mean drowning yourself on the inside from the alcohol and being in more than 4 inches of water really adds a danger element to my life if I'm honest" you reply sipping your drink.

And there goes those dimples again.

He's just in a pair of yellow swimming shorts now which doesn't help the alcohol flush at all. Sitting by your right side, putting his short glass full of amber liquid and ice, on the side of the pool and sliding in to join you. He leaves a small gap, as to not appear a total letch but your smart mouth has him hooked.

Taking a sip of his drink with the water up to his collar bones he hums.

"I do feel incredibly dangerous now, you've got a point"

"I mean if you think that's danger" you edge closer, not drunk but buzzed enough to take your chances you whisper into the shell of his ear. "You should see what thrills are in the guest bathroom. 1st floor on the right? " he chokes on his drink as your suggestive whispers make his dick twitch. He definitely couldn't get out of the pool for a while.

You're gone before you get a verbal reaction. If this all goes badly then you can just hide in there and slip out to an Uber and never see Jeff again right? Right. Cool.

With a soft white towel around you and your heart rate high as you reach the main guest bedroom you enter the room, you notice a large weekend bag in there and freeze. Shit. Someone's staying over, you hadn't factored that in, but a glance to the tag and the embossed H. E. S tells you you're good. Well, if not you'll just be a creep hiding in someone's bathroom but let's not think about it too much. Your faux confidence was working well so far and what other chance was going to arise like this one? Hot celebrities need fun with strangers too right?

Entering the bathroom you rub the towel over you, leaving mostly dry skin. You'd peel away your bikini if you were definite you wouldn't need to peel it back up your limbs should this plan backfire. You move to the mirror to adjust the black flecks from your minimal makeup dispersing under your eye and just as you're about to smooth down the stray baby hairs that humidity has got to around your face, you see Harry appear in the mirror behind you. Your belly flipping over and over with the thrill he'd took the bait.

Wasting no time he smirks and holds your gaze, wrapping his hands around your waist whilst his lips attach to the junction of your neck and collarbone. His tongue drags over your soft skin and he licks and softly sucks swirls onto it with his plush lips.

"Hm. You're right. This is a more fun type of danger" he says between kisses but before he's even finished his sentence you've spun around in his arms.

The bottom of your spine cold against the marble countertop, arms around his neck as you smash your lips into one another's with urgency. Tongues and wet noises as you get to know one another through your bodies alone.

He runs his hands down your back and presses his hard length against your thigh. He's definitely packing you think as you lift up a little rub your pubic bone against his front, panting out a little moan as the sweet friction of your bodies colliding sends you into overdrive. Catching the noise through your parted lips he gently tugs on the bottom one, teeth grazing the supple flesh. This combined with his large palms kneading your ass and pulling you further, tighter, into the roll of his hips. Only two layers of damp clothing separate you,forcing your lips to break from his mouth and fully moan, not caring who may be around. You could not remember the last time a perfect stranger knew your body quite this well.

His own grunts were speeding up when he suddenly grabs the back of your thighs and hoists you up beside the sink, you gasp in shock but it was more the way the lean man thrusted you up there like it was nothing. What else could he do? You expect him to go back to kissing you but instead he pulls back with his rock hard erection outlined in the wet shorts he still has on. Looking at you dead in the eyes both raging with lust and concern. Whilst you try not to worry how you were going to accommodate him inside your tight walls.

"Is this…? I mean, you want this too right?" his hands are resting at either side of your parted thighs. You nod. "Need you to say it Y/N" he steps forward, lips wet and brushes the pad of his thumb across your bottom lip that was now puffy and pink from the earlier biting. He knew you were down to fuck, but now he wanted to test your preferences. What kind of fun you were about to have shall we say. So when you lick his thumb tip, holding his fist still and grazing your wet tongue up and down from knuckle to tip before closing your eyes and humming around the entire digit, he knew you were both in for a good time.

Removing the thumb he whispers a barely audible "fuck me" before smashing your lips back together, tongues massaging together as he peels your underwear to the side with his hand swiftly and presses digit you'd lubricated with your mouth against your clit, moving it fast from side to side with just the right amount of pressure to make your head spin. Gasping, you throw your head back, hands clasped around his neck as you lean back and feel yourself start to leak a little with arousal. The few spots dripping down on to the counter.

You could say it had been a while but really this guy was moving his way round your body in the same way you tune a guitar in key. Calloused fingers applying the right amount of pressure as you felt yourself start to get to the edge already. He was kissing down the front if your chest, between your breasts, not missing a beat when he pushed both triangles of your bikini aside and you moaned loudly as he kissed and sucked hard around your nipple, tentatively pulling it between his teeth firmly, the sound you let out made him clamp a little harder before sucking in the whole nipple again, soothing the skin his tongue. Most likely leaving a mark behind, but you kind of liked the idea of proof he'd been devouring you in all honesty.

You were becoming blissed out from all the stimulation. Clenching and moving your hips around nothing but this magical thumb working your clit up and down hard. You were overcome with this whole situation playing out the way it had. You broke away from his mouth again.

"Oh fuck.. Harry, I'm… FuckFuck I'm going to come, I'm gonna fucking… Ahhh" he pulled back one arm steadying you as your head hit the mirror behind you in your release. He just watched you and slowed his thumb down watching as the liquid cascaded onto the counter.

After you'd come down you open your eyes and shyly smiled before kissing him passionately, his hands moving around your waist tightly. You moved your hand to his shorts, teasingly grazing the outline of his cock between your fingers in hopes of repaying the favour. He does a single throaty laugh and removes your hand, holding himself against his thigh. You look at him in confusion when he splutters,

"Sorry, sorry its just I'm going t'blow my load if you touch me." then he's back on your lips "Too. Fucking. Sexy" he says between wet kisses to your jaw, neck and clavicle. "Wanted to do this since I first set eyes on you" one hand is on the back of his neck twisting nape curls between your fist whilst the other rests behind you, stopping you from hitting your head on the mirror again.

"Oh yeah? Before or after I ruined your clothes?" you laugh teasingly as he slides his hands around your back to finally remove the bikini top properly, lifting it up over your head and tossing it aside somewhere on the floor. He let's a laugh out himself completely entranced still by how natural you are around him, it was often hard to connect with strangers in his position.

"I'd spotted you walking in, was trying to open the door for you m'love" he says before sucking a red mark into your breast and massaging and pulling the other nipple slightly with his hand.

You struggle through sharp intakes of breath for a reply.

"Well….ah...that's what chivalry.. Oh.. Get's you these days I guess" and you're both laughing a little.

"Hmm. Have to try harder with my manners then won't I? I mean, I've got to clear up the mess I've made here" he cups his hand against your pussy rubbing it up and down a little with his palm. You let out a guttural noise at the friction. "Ladies first and all'tha too right?" he giggles again at himself.

You're practically cumming right then, you couldn't remember the last time someone actually went down on you. Your previous boyfriend not particularly into offering you foreplay. A main point of why he didn't stick around too long.

Harry kisses down your abdomen now, soft sloppy, sensual pecks, humming into your skin every so often in appreciation as he works at removing your soaked bikini bottoms with his hands, pushing them down to your knees before you help, letting them fall from the remaining ankle to the ground.

Harry is moving far too slow for you, kissing across each hip down to the top of your slit, breathing over where you desperately need him before paying the other side the same attention. Then he's licking up each crease where your thigh meets your pelvis.

"Y/N, just.. Just turn, that's it and lean back as far as you can there, shuffle forward until can't balance anymore" you shift your ass as forward as possible on the lip of the sink and prop yourself up on your elbows trying to be as flat as possible on the cold counter as you could, your toes behind the sink with one foot the other dangling over the edge. You keep you thighs open as Harry hunches over the counter where you now lay diagonal. He places his arms under your thighs and bends your legs flat out as he can stretch you, you're expecting some more teasing but he just looks down at your pussy licking over his lips and almost whining before burying his tongue inside you immediately. The force of his tongue lapping up your previous climax causes you once again to knock the side of your head against the mirrored wall. You turn and watch the scene almost as a spectator, witnessing yourself bare to this beautiful man, curly brown hair between your fists and making sounds like he's savouring every taste. He catches you watching before taking his mouth off you, immediately, you're whining in protest.

"Watch my eyes not my reflection baby, I'm right here"

His authoritative tone eclipsing every thought you had about the casual nickname, you stared down at the wonderful site of him lapping and suckling on your clit. Pointed tongue and firm laps against the swollen button. He then starts lapping up at your glistening hole,unhooking an arm to spread your lips open between his fingers and licking right from the bottom to the top with all the sloppy wet noises involved. He was feeling you contract as he locked faster and faster over you. His tongue deserved an award never mind his music. You couldn't believe you were on the brink of a second orgasm so quickly but when he sunk his middle finger into you at the same pace his tongue was working at, you were screaming his name into the extractor fan above before you knew it. You felt waves of liquid cascade from your pussy as he gently lapped up the produce of his work from you. You flinched in overstimulation but he cleaned up every last drop tenderly before carefully closing your legs and pivoting you round to your previous sitting up position on the counter. Neither of you had spoken a word since you came but as he leads your arms to drape over your shoulders, holding your fucked out body against his chest whilst peppering your temple with soft pecks . Then he kisses you intensely, letting you taste the sweet juices of yourself on his lips. You hummed in approval of the sweet taste as you came round.

A few minutes of carnal making out and things were heating up again. Your hands cupping his jaw then sliding to graze fingernails up and down his back, digging them in a little harder now and again and causing goosebumps to pierce through the skin rapidly under your touch.

You could feel him swallowing down grunts from the friction he was getting from his shorts covered cock brushing up and down between your slick folds.

He'd made you cum twice. Hard. He always got off of making his partners cum of course, so he was feeling beyond turned on and the slight heat of your glistening folds against his length was almostvsending him over the edge.

"I want you inside me" you whispered against his lips desperately.

No sooner had you said the words, his left hand was frantically searching through the vanities top drawer in hope. Finding a packet, checking the date quickly then tearing it between his teeth, spitting the seal onto the floor and pushing his shorts to his ankles, stepping out of them at speed before kicking them away.

He smirked when he caught your eyes bulge at his cock. He knew it was above average but the reaction was always a further compliment he thought.

Stepping forward he put on a show of putting the condom on, first rubbing the drops of sticky pre cum at the head and down his length keeping his eyes locked to yours as you wriggled on the counter with anticipation. He whined a little as it squeezed him rolling it on, so red and over sensitive from turning you on. So that's why, when you grabbed for it, he stilled your hand. Dimples appearing back in his cheeks as you looked again in confusion. He kisses you, languishing the moment before grabbing you forward from the countertop to the floor again, still keeping your lips attached. He lightly grips at your hips and turns you round to face the mirror once more.

Harry lightly grabs your throat, and the way you whimper and push your ass back against him, makes him mentally bank that idea for later perhaps. He runs his left hand up the column of your neck lightly holding your jaw between his thumb and forefinger, forcing you to look at him with his hand on your face and the other already working up and down your folds.

"I want you to watch us. Want you to watch yourself come apart. Want to watch you cum around my cock yeah? " he whispers in your ear. You noticeably shiver with excitement of what's to come.

"Please Harry, please, need it, need you."

You watch yourself babble and beg for his cock. The pathetic whimper from yourself as you try and circle your ass into his crotch again to encourage it happening. You were never patient and he's driving you insane here.

Bringing two fingers infront of your lips as you watch yourself in the mirror he looks you dead in the eye through the reflection.

"Spit" so you do, "good girl" he says kissing your cheek. His saliva lubed fingers are back rubbing your clit quickly whilst his knee nudges the back of yours to spread your feet wider as he kisses the back of your neck and shoulders. When he pauses next you're not expecting the hard thrust of him entering you entirely, sure you were dripping wet with the result of two orgasms but you cry out in a mix of stretch and pleasure as he pounds into you at a furious pace. His spare hand not on your clit is holding the bottom of your spine down as he keeps up his rhythm. His pace was that of a man desperate for release after watching you fall apart on his fingers and tongue. The build up meant he was already close as you tight walls fluttered around him. He pleads with you to stop tightening your walls around him or he's not going to last he whimpers.

You were already close again, you'd never cum this many times or this quickly in your life but you were ready for another round and by the sounds of him and the stutter his pace kept slipping you knew he was close too.

You quickly removed his hand, sucking your own fingers into your mouth to replace his own at your clit.

"M'gonna cum, but… OhOh fuck.. But need you harder. Deeper" you manage to get out.

He grunts a curse before squeezing your hips at a pressure that will leave marks tomorrow but the delight in the speed he was now able to snap his hips against the swells of your ass, was well worth it. It only took a few more seconds with the fingers that knew you best, for you to gush against his cock. Feeling absolutely exhausted you slump your sweaty chest onto the cold counter.

His orgasm taking him by surprise when you clenched up to milk him dry. He all but shouts your name as his hips stutter and you feel the warmth of his cum fill the one barrier between you.

His lips were back on your sweaty neck for a second whilst he disposed of the used condom. He ran the walk in shower and wordlessly you took his offered hand to join him under the hot spray. You'd never had an encounter end like this before not that you were a seasoned professional but after 3 orgasms the way his hands moved round your body under the water, washing away your antics with sweet strawberry-banana smelling suds on the flannel, left you with a warm floaty feeling the worn off alcohol never had.

He gently wipes your makeup from under your eyes then, smiling at the cute way your nose wrinkles slightly as he rubs at each eyebrow.

"I don't even have words" you finally laugh out blushing, not able to stand his gauge as you say it.

"Oh. So that's how to make that smart mouth o'yours stop is it? " he grins, you gasp in mock offense and go to say something but going under your chin with his thumb with his forefinger to connect your lips under the warm water spray he kisses you when you pull away you can't help but ask.

"So does this make us even on one ruined fancy vest then?"

"Hmmmm" he ponders with both hands on your face looking at the ceiling out if the falling water. " I'm not sure, I mean it was a custom, pretty high going rate those yeah"

"Yeahhhh you're right, you're right. Better factor in the cost of the custom job then hadn't I huh?"

You hurriedly sink to your knees on the tiled floor.

#harry styles #1d #harries #one direction #harry styles fic rec #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles smut #harry styles fandom #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic #summer feeling fic challenge

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youngerdrgrey · 3 years

Text

love me wilder (love me more) // scenes from Ryan and Sophie’s relationship

about: Mary starts all of this. They’re on comms one night, and Mary asks, “Would I be Maid of Honor, or would it be Luke?”

and other questions about Ryan and Sophie's relationship. + you can read this on ao3 too.

Who asks the other on dates? Once they’re dating, it’s pretty even, but Sophie does get the credit for their first official date. It happens on the third time that Ryan bails on plans with Sophie and Jordan. They’re supposed to be seeing an art installation for their self-proclaimed ‘Black girl date night.’ But Sophie shows up to The Hold Up to pick up Ryan, and Ryan’s tending bar with an apologetic and frustrated grin.

Sophie stomps over to the bar. “Again, Ryan?”

Ryan slides a drink to the customer beside Sophie. “Yes, again. Patrice is sick and—”

“And nobody else can cover? You’re the manager.” Sophie says. “Call someone in.”

Ryan takes the credit card from the customer, who unabashedly watches Ryan as she swipes the card in the reader. Her work tank’s tied into a crop top like always, and she’s pulled her hair back in a way that really draws the attention to her neck.

Ryan says, “I don’t abuse my power.” It’s the sort of dig that a few months ago would’ve started a fight, but today it just makes Sophie groan and dig her elbows into the bar top to get closer to Ryan.

“You don’t do anything,” Sophie corrects. At this point, Ryan's either working as Batwoman, or working at the bar. She has no social life, which kind of screws things up for the one person who's actively trying to spend time with her.

Ryan snorts. “Okay, choice words from the lady going on a date with her sister on a Friday night.”

Sophie levels Ryan with a serious stare. “I’d go with you, but you’re too busy.” Ryan rolls her eyes, but Sophie isn’t joking. There’s no hint of a smile, no hitch in her voice. Ryan rewinds the last few minutes in her head.

“Wait —” Ryan circles her hands backwards in front of her. Rewind again. Reprocess the fact that Sophie used date and Ryan in the same context. “—are you serious? You’re... you’re actually—”

Sophie chuckles, and there’s a bit of a nervous shake under it. “And I thought I was the inexperienced one here.”

“You are,” Ryan says. That gets a glare from Sophie. Ryan plucks the receipt for the customer off the printer and slides that to them before turning her focus fully back to Sophie. “But I’m game.”

Sophie grins. “Really?”

Ryan flashes a full smile back. “Yeah. As soon as Patrice gets better.”

“Let me make her some soup then, damn.”

Who is the bigger cuddler?

Ryan. She’s very affectionate, and she loves snuggling up anywhere she can. Mary complains sometimes about how often she comes home to find Ryan and Sophie on the couch.

Luke cringes when Mary says it. His eyes jump from the Bat screens to Mary in the chair beside him. “Like on the couch?” Mid-deed?

“Ugh, I wish.” Mary quickly shakes her head, as a quick disgusted look passes her face. “Not like I wish, just like…. I come home, and they’re not even doing anything. They’re asleep on the couch, just wrapped up in each other’s arms and happy and comfy and….” She sighs.

Luke drums his hands on the keyboard. “And you want that?”

Mary slumps into her chair and lets her head roll onto her shoulder. The lights paint her softer, or maybe it’s the open vulnerability now that she doesn’t have to be the perky sidekick she usually is. It’s actually one of the good things about working with Luke; he doesn’t expect her to be happy, perfect Mary.

“I want something. We spend all day living our normal lives, then rushing away to help save Gotham, and it’s totally worth it. It is. But before, when the work was done, I went home to my best friend in the world.” Mary glances up at the monitors where the two dots tracking Ryan and Sophie rush across the Gotham map. “Now she has someone else. And no offense to you, but we’re not exactly swapping secrets and having sweet potato pancakes.”

Mary does love Sophie and Ryan. She loves that Sophie is moving forward after losing Kate, and she loves that Ryan has someone other than Angelique to care about. But Mary has also spent so much of her life begging people to care about her. It’s hard not to feel like this is Kate and Beth and her dad all over again. She’s getting really tired of being replaced.

Luke clears his throat. He even sits up straighter in his chair when he turns it. The monitors behind him almost make him look like an angel. Or whatever.

He says, “I can’t make sweet potato pancakes,” like it’s an apology, or maybe a concession from someone else who knows what it’s like to be the odd one out. “But I do make a mean crab cake. If you’re in the market for more friends.”

Mary can work with that. But at the risk of this feeling entirely too sentimental for a mid-mission chat, she adds, “Fine, but no cuddling on the couch.”

Luke smiles. “You wish.”

Who initiates holding hands more often?

Ryan cannot get enough of Sophie’s hands. She’s constantly reaching out during team meetings, or across the bar at The Hold Up. She believes in the reassuring squeeze. At the same time, Sophie’s the one who actually initiates the hand holding and interlocking fingers. She claims it’s her way of keeping track of Ryan, reminding her that “you’re stuck with me, and you trust me.”

“There are other ways to show that, Sophie,” Ryan taunts. Sophie uses their linked hands to tug Ryan over to her.

“Show me?”

Who remembers anniversaries?

Ryan smiles up at Sophie on the couch.

“Aww, babe, three years ago, you arrested me for the first time.”

Sophie rolls her eyes. “That’s the anniversary you remember?”

Ryan laughs. “It truly changed my life.”

“Okay, well, remember that when you want an anniversary present in three weeks—”

“Four,” Ryan corrects. “Three weeks is when the date should’ve happened, but you got a flat, then Black Mask attacked—”

Sophie nods, “Right, and we didn’t actually go out until after he was in holding. I stand corrected.”

Ryan preens until Sophie pushes her away.

Who is more possessive?

Ryan used to think she was possessive. She would do anything to keep the people she loves by her side. But then Kate Kane comes back into their lives, and suddenly Ryan’s on the verge of losing everything that she’s built for herself. She keeps jumping between being incredibly self-sacrificing and hoarding away her minutes with the rest of the team like Kate’s coming to snatch them away.

One particular night, Ryan drops down onto Sophie’s fire escape in the suit. Her feet barely hit the level before she spots Kate inside Sophie’s apartment.

Sans jacket, Kate’s tattooed arms look great in the moonlight. Her everything looks great. Ryan can’t see everything, but she can see the playful smirk on Kate’s face as she crosses the living room. Sophie’s not visible, which means she must already be in the bedroom. Is she waiting for Kate? Is she --

Ryan stumbles back. Sophie wouldn’t cheat on her. Ryan knows that, but if there was ever a reason to break up, it’s definitely the love of Sophie’s life wanting to start over again. And who is Ryan to stand in the way of that?

So, Ryan grinds her teeth and jumps back off of the balcony.

She gets halfway back to Wayne Tower before the comms buzz in her ear. She pauses on top of a random roof to answer the incoming call.

“Ryan, get back here.”

Of course Sophie saw her. The grappling hook isn’t exactly the quietest way to move either. Though, Sophie had certainly taken her time to reach out.

Ryan lets a bit of bitterness slip out. “Your plans with Kate fall through?”

“I don’t have plans with Kate,” Sophie says. She sounds tired and frustrated, like whatever conversation she’d had probably took a lot out of her. Or maybe just reuniting with her one true love did that. Who’s Ryan to know?

“Sure looked like it to me.”

“And if you’d looked any longer, you would’ve seen her grab her things and go. I don’t want to do this over comms, Ryan.”

“What, break up with me?”

“Why would you even —” Sophie sucks in a deep breath. “Kate was here to clear the air. She wanted to know if there was a chance that we could try again.”

Ryan needs to sit down. She needs to lean against something. Her eyes dart across the roof, but there’s nothing up here but spider webs and deflated balloons.

“Oh.” Ryan circles her jaw to try and stop herself from crying. She’s not going to cry over Sophie. She should’ve known better than to ever think that Kate Kane’s ex would choose her over—

“I told her no.”

What? The air rushes out of Ryan’s lungs.

Sophie repeats herself. “I told her no. Now can you please get back here before I have to drive all the way over to wherever the hell you are?”

“It’s faster by roof.”

“Give me the grappling hook, and I’ll try it out.”

Ryan clicks her tongue. “Can’t do it, that’s mine.”

“And you’re mine, Ryan. Nobody’s changing that, okay? Trust me.”

Ryan glances over at the long way back to Sophie’s place. The trek across the city that they help keep safe. “I do.”

Who gets more jealous?

Sophie really wishes she weren’t this jealous. She’s not super familiar with the feeling. With Tyler, her emotions never went this high. With Kate, there either wasn’t competition, or well, the guilt of how things went overshadowed everything else. But with Ryan — hot, flirty bartender Ryan — the opportunities for jealousy keep building.

It doesn’t help that Imani shows up from time to time for different fundraiser events. Sophie watches Imani and Ryan from across The Hold Up. Her eyes narrow, and she zones out of her conversation with Mary so completely that the young medical professional ends up waving her hand in front of Sophie’s face.

Mary steps over to block Sophie’s view of them. “You do know Imani’s not a threat, right?”

Sophie nods. She taps on the side of her head. “Up here, yes. But in here….” She rubs her hand over her heart.

“Ryan’s so into you, and you know that. Any jealousy is completely ridiculous,” Mary says.

Sophie nods. Again. “I’m gonna go over there.” She knocks back the drink in her hand and hands it to Mary, who mostly just clinks that cup with her own.

Mary mumbles to herself, “’Gee, Mary, thanks for being such a great friend. Let’s keep talking together instead of rushing over like a jealous lunatic.’” Her face perks up as she plays herself. “Of course, Sophie, so glad you’re being super reasonable. Love you too.”

By the time Mary finishes her own drink, Sophie’s leading a very amused Ryan up the stairs towards the loft. Mary sighs. She really may have to move out soon.

Who is more protective?

This one’s a tie. Ryan tries to protect Sophie by sidelining Sophie on the Bat Team. But Sophie is used to being in the field, or at least calling the shots. She doesn’t do well in the Bat Cave where she can’t physically assist. That back and forth goes on for months, but it comes to a head when Ryan needs to get on a plane again to try and catch their latest bad guy of the week.

Sophie hates the idea. She refuses to let Ryan go alone, and the more that Ryan tries to fight it, the more emotional Sophie gets. Ryan assumes that Sophie’s upset because the last private Kane plane ended with Kate in Black Mask’s clutches. But Ryan’s not about to go missing. She doesn’t have enemies like that, and most importantly, as Ryan yells, “Sophie, stop treating me like this! I’m not Kate.”

Sophie sputters before rasping out, “I know that. But the last time you flew, Ryan, you almost died too. In my arms, mind you. Forgive me for not wanting a repeat of that.”

Who is more likely to cheat?

No one’s cheating, but Ryan does have a particularly handsy customer who tries to kiss her once.

Who dislikes PDA the most?

Sophie’s still getting used to the idea of actually having PDA with a woman, but she’s coming around.

Who kills the spider?

Both of them, but Sophie does it more often. Mostly because she doesn’t want to hear Ryan taunting her that “Sophie freaking Moore can’t handle a spider?”

Who asks the other to marry them?

Mary starts all of this. They’re on comms one night, and Mary says, “Would I be Maid of Honor, or would it be Luke?”

The question makes Ryan stumble on her landing, and Sophie crashes into her since they didn’t exactly space out on the wire as they slid from one secret warehouse to another.

Sophie catches her footing first and says, “I’m sorry, what?”

Back in the Bat Cave, Mary ignores the glare that Luke gives her. She leans closer to the mic. “Hypothetically. If you two get married, it’d be a really small ceremony. We’re not inviting Alice. And Jordan will probably be Sophie’s Maid of Honor, so I just wanted to make sure that I get to be Ryan’s.”

Luke huffs. “Then why did you ask a question if you’re calling dibs?”

Mary turns to face him. “Because you can’t call dibs. It has to be her choice.”

“But you’re leading her to pick you. It’s not fair. You were already roommates—”

“Which is exactly why it should be me—”

“But we had to work on our relationship. The growth that we had is just—”

“But you had to work on it! We clicked immediately!”

“You click with everyone!”

“I do not!”

“You do—”

Sophie and Ryan yell into the comms, “GUYS!” Mary and Luke freeze.

Ryan chances a glance at Sophie, who has not actually moved since their friends started this conversation. They’ve been together for nearly two years at this point, and honestly, they’ve both been avoiding having to talk about this. Neither of them have their moms — for very different reasons — and Sophie’s already got one failed marriage under her utility belt.

Sophie readjusts the cowl on her super suit. “Could you wait until after we’re engaged to plan a wedding?”

Ryan does a double take. “After we’re what now?”

Sophie freezes. “Well, I just mean — if things keep going well, because they’ve been going really, really well…?” The damn cowl blocks off most of her face, but Ryan knows Sophie well enough to know that her eyebrows are halfway to her hairline. That higher lilt in Sophie’s voice means she’s reaching, and nervous. Ryan’s thankful that her own mask can cover the way her eyebrows drop as her nose scrunches up. Ryan is not about to cry on this roof.

Ryan goes for the joke. Makes her voice as teasing as she can handle. “Aww, you wanna marry me?”

Sophie crosses the few steps between them to take Ryan’s hand. “Are you asking?”

Ryan interlocks their fingers. “Not officially. Luke hasn’t made a Bata-ring yet.”

Everyone groans. The deep one from Luke is enough to get Sophie to smile, and it finally breaks some of the tension in the air. Ryan brings their linked hands to her lips and kisses them. She makes sure that Sophie’s focused on her before mouthing, Marry me.

Sophie leans in to kiss her, and they both get carried away. Lost in this moment of possibility before —

“Um, guys?” It’s Luke. “Are you working or making out?”

Ryan pulls back from the kiss and says, “Just for that, Mary, you’re Maid of Honor.”

“Ha!”

Who buys the other flowers or gifts?

It’s a trade off. Ryan loves bringing back little things from missions. Sophie is the reigning gift champion though. A few weeks after she joins the team, Sophie shows up at the loft with a plant for Ryan.

“It’s no desert rose, but well, Mary said how much you loved taking care of your old one.” Sophie holds it out for Ryan to take, but Ryan just keeps staring at her. Sophie shifts her weight from one foot to the other. She cringes inwardly. She’s probably tipping her hand too much by doing this. She can’t just show up at a cute girl’s place in her casual clothes and give her a plant. It’s… well, very gay, and probably invasive, given the fact that the last plant Ryan cared for was literally the thing to bring Ryan back to life.

Sophie groans. “Please don’t make me take it back.”

“No! You don’t have to.” Ryan reaches out with both hands to take the plant. She curls it to her chest, hugging it close. She stares down at it for a bit, and when she does look back up, a teary rim frames her eyes. “Thank you.”

Who would bring up possibly having kids?

Ryan really wants to be a mom one day. She’s fine not doing it now. But one day, she wants to do for someone else what her mom did for her.

Sophie gets weird about the idea once Ryan brings it up. Like, ducking out of rooms and coming up with all kinds of excuses as to why she can’t go on missions for a week. She even stays at Jordan’s place for a few nights.

Ryan has to go to Jordan’s apartment just to talk to Sophie alone. She barrels straight into the little two bedroom and plants herself next to the kitchen island. Sophie closes the door behind Ryan, but doesn’t step any closer to her fiance.

Ryan says, “I get it. If Batwoman can’t have a girlfriend, then she sure as hell can’t have a kid. But—”

Sophie cuts her off, “It’s not about Batwoman. It’s about me.”

“Oh.” Does Sophie not want kids?

“Before I came out, the thought of having kids and a family, it all felt so… not me. I told Tyler that I didn’t want kids, that I thought having kids in a city like Gotham was irresponsible and not something I would ever want to do.”

Ryan leans back into the island. Closes her eyes and tries to let the cool feel of the granite calm the pain of those words.

Sophie wrings her hands together. “But I honestly didn't want to do any of that, with a man. And you're right. It's completely irresponsible for Batwoman to have a kid. But maybe… maybe Ryan and Sophie Wilder-Moore could consider it. If we can help clean up a city, we can probably raise a pretty cool kid.”

Who is more nervous to meet the parents?

Sophie is literally shaking when they meet up with Diane Moore for the first time.

Thanks to Jordan, Ryan technically met Diane the week before. Ryan and Jordan were hanging out when Diane FaceTimed Jordan. Once Diane saw Ryan in the background, Jordan casually said, “That’s Ryan, Sophie’s girlfriend.” Then Diane’s entire face caught on fire, and she made an excuse to hang up. Fast forward five days, and Diane called Sophie to say she was “stopping by” for brunch. Reservations were made for four, and now Sophie is going to vibrate into another dimension from shaking so much.

Jordan and Ryan split a sympathetic look outside of Grits and Bear It, one of the best brunch places in Gotham.

Jordan tries to help. She says, “Just don’t mention the ex-con thing, and you’ll be fine.”

Sophie groans. Ryan steps up to Sophie and slips her arms around Sophie’s waist. “Babe, chill. I am a successful manager of a great bar—”

“A gay bar,” Sophie corrects.

Jordan winces. “Don’t mention that part either. Or Batwoman.”

Both Sophie and Ryan freeze. Sophie turns wide eyes up at Jordan and asks, “Why would we…?”

Jordan looks back at them like they’re five. “Because all you do is talk about how Batwoman’s the one person doing anything to help Gotham. And Mom still won’t say her name without gagging in her mouth.”

Sophie drops her head back down on top of Ryan’s. With their height difference, she can press her forehead to the crown of Ryan’s head. Hide away from the world for a moment. Whisper, “We should run. Now. Before she sees us.”

Ryan kisses Sophie on the cheek. “Maybe it won’t be that bad.”

(It is.)

(But thankfully Jordan takes one for the team and brings up her graffiti to take some of Diane’s fire. Ryan’s able to get one of very few smiles when she reminds Diane that Jordan’s working at the youth center now. Saving lives and what not. Still, nothing is enough for Diane. Ryan holds Sophie’s hand under the table.)

(Sophie doesn’t relax until they’re back at her place. Until they showered away the tension and curled up on the couch with Sophie wrapped around Ryan and a cheesy action movie playing on the TV.

Sophie holds on a little too tight. Sits a little too stiff. And she sniffles during a chase scene, which is really the final straw.

Ryan has to tuck her head under Sophie’s chin to look up at her girlfriend. “It’s her loss, you know? I’m pretty damn amazing, and you? You’re Sophie freaking Moore, and anyone who chooses not to love you is making the worst mistake of their life.”

Sophie sniffles again. “What if she never comes around?”

“Then you still have me, and Jordan, and Mary and Luke. You can even have Alice if you’re that desperate for a high head count. But you don’t need her to be happy.” Ryan wiggles out of the hold to sit up on her own. “And whenever you start worrying about what your mom thinks, just remember what the great poets once said.”

Sophie’s eyes narrow, and Ryan does her best to keep a serious look on her face.

“‘All I need in this life of sin—’” Sophie shoves Ryan away from her, and Ryan uses all of her strength to pull Sophie into her arms and sing right into her face, “‘is me and my girlfriend.’ Come on, baby, you know it.”

Sophie sings back, “‘It’s me and my girlfriend.’”

“See.” Ryan pecks Sophie on the lips. “That simple. Trust me.”

Sophie says, “I always do.”)

a/n: if only it were actually that sample. but hey, we can hope, and we can keep trying, you know?

so, what'd you think? any other random questions y'all would like answered? any prompts?

#batwoman #ryan x sophie #wildmoore #ryan wilder #sophie moore #mine #batwoman fic #headcanon #ship meme #luke and mary are also here because I love them #luke fox #mary hamilton #luke fox x mary hamilton

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5-seconds-of-bucky · 4 years

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Glad It’s You (Shawn Mendes Soulmate!au)

A/N: We got all kinds of classic tropes and au’s in here. Coffee shop, friends to lovers, soulmate. Also, let’s appreciate the fact that it’s actually of decent length this time :) My longest fic yet!

Also, I’m aware that the timeline of some events that correspond to real life aren’t perfect but for the sake of my sanity please go with it

Summary: Shawn lives in a world in which he believes he doesn’t have a soulmate until he starts feeling the emotions of someone else. You live in a world where undiagnosed social anxiety prevents you from finding yours. After not seeing each other for three years, the bond you once had is no longer as strong. How does Shawn tell you that he thinks you’re his soulmate when you’re still scared to talk to him like you once did?

Word count: 8.9k+

Warnings: Reader is heavily implied to have social anxiety, swearing, descriptions of an anxiety attack

*Disclaimer: The depiction of social anxiety is based off of my own experience and research and may or may not accurately reflect the experience of other people with SAD*

It was hard to tell if soulmates made life infinitely better or perpetually more difficult.

The discrepancy probably stemmed from the fact that not everyone had the same soulmate indicator. Some had the tattoos of the occupation of their soulmate. Some couldn’t see color until they met theirs. Others could feel the emotions of the other person. There was an endless array of indications. Oftentimes, soulmates had different indicators. It wasn’t rare for someone to have a tattooed name while their soulmate could feel the other’s emotions.

Since the day you were born, the initials S.M. were tattooed on the inside of your wrist. As a child it was a game. You asked every person you met what their name was, your mind consumed with the idea of eternal love that had been ingrained from a young age. There was always a moment of disappointment when they would tell you “Sammy Jones” or “Eric Miller”. With all the adults romanticizing the idea of soulmates, it was hard not to look for yours in every place you could.

For a long time, Shawn thought he didn’t have a soulmate. There were no indicators while he was growing up to show that he could have one. He could see color and there were no special tattoos marking his body. It was a source of shame when his friends would ask, “What about you?” after telling him about theirs. Watching his friends talking about their indicators and finding their soulmates was frustrating. He was a normal kid. What did he do to deserve a life of loneliness that only a soulmate could fill?

Even when his career as a singer launched and he started to understand why it was possible that he might never find love, it was hard to comprehend that he was destined for no one. Was he really that undeserving of love?

He was twenty when he started feeling someone else’s emotions.

It came out of nowhere. He was celebrating the release of his third album and he couldn’t have been happier. He was on cloud nine, meeting everyone at the party with an enthusiastic smile and hug. He felt complete, even. He had stopped dwelling on his lack of soulmate and instead focused on putting everything he had into his songwriting.

It was the best choice he’d ever made. His music blossomed and his mental health was better than ever. All the anxiety of being alone and hoping that something, anything, would pop up to show him that he was meant for someone had started to fade to the background. Maybe he would never truly be over the fact that there was no perfect match for him but he could try to block it out of his mind.

There was a point in his life when he thought that maybe he did have a soulmate. That the system was screwed up and he did have a person. He was 16 and his career was already taking off but he couldn’t help but think that he was falling in love with you, his best friend, while he also fell in love with making music.

You were by his side through it all: random nights when he’d ask you to come over to help him come up with lyrics, days when it started to get a little too much, evenings when he just needed a quick break. You were the best of friends and there was a bond you thought would never be broken.

One day, he realized that he didn’t need some tattoo or the ability to read your thoughts; you were meant for each other. Neither of you could deny the pull you felt when you were together and random people who didn’t know better often mistook you for a couple.

But he realized too late. He went on his first world tour and wasn’t sure how to tell you his feelings when he was constantly so far away. You liked plans and stability; his life didn’t offer that in any capacity.

And then it was too hard to stay connected. He was touring and you were still trying to finish school. There just wasn’t time for you to talk to him at 3:30 in the morning. So you lost touch. There was a text every once and awhile. An empty promise of “we need to meet up” or “wanna talk?”

You both decided in your minds that it wasn’t meant to be. That you had a different soulmate and he had none. It’s been three years now since you were together to have a real conversation. You were beginning to grow frustrated with the search for your soulmate and Shawn had given up all together.

That was, until he felt a surge of anxiety hit him like a truck in the middle of his party. It lasted no more than three seconds but he couldn’t quite shake the feeling after it passed. He had no idea where it came from. One second he felt on top of the world, the next like he couldn’t stoop lower.

It had only been an hour and a half but you were ready to leave the party. It had been an eventful night by your standards. You had talked to two people besides your roommate, which was two more than usual. Your roommate, Alana had been by your side the whole night, a promise she had to make before you agreed to come, but she eventually had to go to the bathroom, leaving you leaning against a wall by yourself. She had only been gone for three minutes, you could feel all the anxiety creeping up on you.

Do they think I look lonely? My friend will be back in a minute, I swear!

If I look at my phone they might think I’m just chilling.

They probably think I’m that weirdo that stands against the wall the whole time and doesn’t talk to people.

Calm down. Nobody cares what you’re doing. They’re all doing their own thing.

. . . They looked at me funny. They think I’m weird.

Oh can we just go home?

As much as you tried to tell yourself that no one cared that you were standing against the wall by yourself, there was that part of you that convinced you that they cared a lot. You were already exhausted purely from being around all the people and loud music. Alana had been gone for three minutes and in those three minutes you had begun to shake and sweat just the slightest bit. You knew that nobody was judging you, it was irrational, but in the back of your mind told you otherwise.

Shawn excused himself from the room, taking a minute to gather his thoughts. While it wasn’t completely abnormal for random bouts of anxiety to hit him, this one felt different. Foreign, as though it wasn’t his own emotions, rather, someone else’s.

He wiped his hands on his pants, confused as to why they were so sweaty all of a sudden. It wasn’t particularly hot yet he felt warm. Maybe he was worrying too much. It was probably nothing. He ran a hand through his hair before going back to the party, putting a smile on his face and the past ten minutes behind him.

“Hey man, you alright?” Brian asked as he approached him.

‘Yeah, just needed to go to the bathroom.”

“You sure? You look a little shaken.” He wasn’t blind to how Shawn’s eyes were darting around and how he appeared a little more closed off than usual.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” He turned his head when someone else called his name and nodded to Brian before heading over to them. He spent the rest of the night doing his best to look excited, but those three seconds plagued his mind the whole time.

While Shawn struggled to keep his hopes of a soulmate under wraps, you were more desperate than ever to find yours. It seemed like all of your friends were finding theirs and you were perpetually alone.

With the way you tended to shy away from meeting new people, most people assumed you didn’t want to find your soulmate. That you would rather live a life alone, or that maybe you were never assigned a soulmate to begin with.

You had met a few potential soulmates after losing touch with Shawn. Every time you heard an S.M. name your heart stopped. Maybe you had finally found them. You pushed past the fear of approaching them, rationalizing it with the thought that this could be your only chance to find them. It never worked though. They all had an indicator pointing towards someone else, leaving you upset and embarrassed.

There was always a small part of you that thought Shawn could be your soulmate, even if he didn’t have any indication of one. You were sure he thought the same way but you lost touch before either of you could really say anything about it.

You thought about asking him to meet up when he was in town a few times but something stopped you every time. The thought of what if he doesn’t remember me? or worse, what if he doesn’t want to talk to me? was enough to keep you from sending the text.

It was easy to ignore your loneliness when you could bury yourself in schoolwork, which you had a tendency of doing. It was the easiest excuse to get out of everything. Don’t want to go to a party? Oh, I have to finish editing my essay. Alana tried to set you up on a blind date? I have tests coming up I need to study for.

Alana was determined to help you find your soulmate, even if you didn’t want to cooperate.

“Come on, Y/N. Maybe they’ll be at this party! I promise there won’t be a ton of people there and I know you finished that essay last night cause you told me about it and said that you were looking forward to a work free night,” she said, closing your laptop so you couldn’t “work” on your already finished essay.

“But I want to go over it a few more times to make sure everything is right,” you replied. “Besides, we went to a party last month.”

“Exactly, last month. Let’s go.”

“I don’t want to go.”

“You’re never going to meet your soulmate just sitting at your desk and pretending to work on an essay.”

“It’s not entirely impossible.”

“Y/N.”

So that’s how you ended up at the party, looking around for a potential soulmate. You insisted that they wouldn’t be there; they never were, but Alana insisted that a night out would be good for you, no matter the soulmate circumstance, and dragged you along.

Truth be told, it was a good thing she forced you to attend. If you had it your way, you would spend most nights in your room, ignoring the rest of the world and sitting on your phone. You were fine hanging with close friends every once and awhile, but a night in was always more appealing.

According to Alana, however, that wasn’t normal, and you needed to go out in the world and talk to people, unless you wanted to be alone forever.

You would say, “But I do want to be alone forever. If you haven’t noticed, I don’t even like going to the bank, much less a party filled with people I don’t know.”

And she would say, “Please, I know that you want to find your soulmate and the only reason you don’t like going to the bank is because it makes you nervous and you’re worried that the people working there are going to be mad at you for no reason.”

So you would say, “I’ve probably met all the potential soulmates already. What’s the chance that some random person is going to show up to the party and just happen to be that person?”

And she would tell you, “People randomly meet their soulmates all the time. Yours isn’t going to walk through this door without knowing you first. If you don’t at least leave this dorm you’ll never meet them. Think of how lonely they must feel, waiting for you to come out of hiding.”

And, as much as you wished you could, you couldn’t really argue with that. The real problem after that was talking to people. You argued that you’re already there, so there’s no reason that if your soulmate was at the party, they couldn’t come find you. Alana tried to get you to socialize by walking around with you and introducing you to new people, but they were usually more interested in talking with her than you.

That’s how you ended up against the wall, allowing yourself to overthink while Alana went to the bathroom.

Shawn continued to experience those random emotions throughout the tour. Random flashes of feelings that weren’t quite his. He would be lounging around when he would suddenly feel excited and energetic, only for it to pass by within a few seconds. One time, he was feeling particularly miserable when a surge of adrenaline and anger came through him.

He had no idea where the feelings were coming from. He was starting to think that they were somehow connected to his soulmate.

A glimmer of hope after years of desperation and disappointment.

Part of him wanted to dismiss it, thinking that no, I can’t have a soulmate. I’ve worked way too hard to get past this to dwell on it again. The other part wanted to take the idea and run with it.

He tried to argue with himself that it couldn’t be soulmate related.

It’s not like it happening all the time or constantly in the back of my mind.

How would this help me find them anyways?

It’s all in my head.

Still, it did little to block the thought that maybe, just maybe, it was related.

It was a quiet day at the coffee shop. Granted, most days were fairly quiet, as the shop was located in a secluded area, but still. You assumed it was mainly attributed to the fact that exams were coming up and people didn’t have time to drive down to the shop when there was a Starbucks much closer to the dorms. You were in the same predicament, having your books splayed out on the counter to study in between customers.

You and Shawn used to come to the coffee shop every Friday after school. Even after Shawn left to go on tour and live life as a rockstar, you made sure to visit the shop at least once a month. Afterall, you were friends with the owner, Eileen, and you would hate to just stop coming and never see her again.

You eventually landed a job there. It was a little bit of a drive from the dorms but you knew that when Eileen offered you the job, you wouldn’t be able to find one with as good pay and flexible hours anywhere closer. Sometimes being friends with the owner for a long time has its perks.

There was a collage of photos on the wall behind the register that made the place really feel like home. There were tons of random photos ranging from when the shop first opened to when Eileen took a picture of a slice of cake she insisted had a face in it.

You appeared on the wall a few times, but your favorite picture was the one of you and Shawn right before he left for tour the first time. You were both laughing in the picture, Shawn’s arm around your shoulders as you leaned into him. It was the last time you went to the shop together and you remembered just how fun of a time it was. It always left an ache in your heart when you looked at it, remembering all the good times you had together.

You didn’t have many other close friends, so once Shawn left for tour you felt a lot lonelier. Your mom tried to get you to make new friends, but it wasn’t as easy for you as she insisted it was.

“Why can’t you talk to the people across the road? They have a girl your age.”

“But she already has a friend group. We’ve lived across the street from each other for years. It would be weird if I suddenly introduced myself and tried to break into her friend group.”

“You’re never going to make friends if you don’t talk to people.”

“I have friends.”

“But don’t you want to hang out with more than two people?”

“No, I have my friends. That’s all I need.”

More often than not, you did wish you had more than two friends, or that Shawn would come back and eliminate the need to make new ones, but wishing did nothing to help your loneliness. You made a few more friends once you went to college, and you were completely okay with your small group, but it never satisfied the longing to see Shawn again.

“What are we doing here?” Brian asked as Shawn pulled into the parking lot of a worn down but homely looking building. “And what is this place?”

“It’s a coffee shop I used to come to every week. I haven’t seen Eileen in years,” Shawn said with a wistful look as he parked the car.

“Eileen?”

“The owner.”

Brian huffed, realizing that they would be stuck there for a while if Shawn knew the owner. He liked to talk to people. And when he talked, he talked and talked and talked.

“Relax, I’ll buy you a coffee.”

They both got out of the car and walked into the shop, Shawn smiling when he heard the bell above the door ring. He looked around for a second, noting how almost nothing changed since he’d last been there a few years ago. The chairs and tables were still in the same places, same coffee smell, even that stuffed cat that Shawn gave Eileen as a joke was still sitting on the windowsill.

The only big change he noticed was the photo wall. There were a lot more photos than he remembered. He wondered if he would still be able to find that picture of you and him.

He looked to the counter and saw a girl with Y/H/C hair, her head buried in the textbooks that were scattered across the counter.

“Dude, we getting coffee or what?” Brian said with a teasing smile, walking closer to the counter to read the menu posted on the wall behind it.

You were so invested in studying that you didn’t even hear the bell ring when they came in, only looking up when you saw someone approaching the counter out of the corner of your eye.

“Oh, hi, sorry ‘bout that. How can I help you?” you said as you looked up, met with the face of an oddly familiar young man.

“Can I get a-”

“Y/N?” Shawn questioned from behind him, confusion painting his face. He hadn’t seen you in three years but you didn’t look all that different. A little more mature, sure, but he could tell it was still obviously you.

You furrowed your eyebrows at the familiar voice, glancing behind Brian to see Shawn. Your eyes widened at his appearance, no longer a boy but now a man. “Shawn?”

“Hey, Y/N, can you empty the garbage and put it out back?” Eileen asked as she walked out of the small kitchen area that was closed off from the rest of the store. She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw Shawn, a smile taking over her face as she took in how he’d grown up over the years. “Shawn Mendes, is that you?”

“Indeed, it is,” he said with a shy smile. “How are you Eileen?”

“Pretty good if I do say so myself. How are you? How’s the rockstar life treating you?”

“It’s pretty great.”

Meanwhile, you were still staring at your former best friend, mouth slightly agape as you took him in.

“Well why don’t we get you two some coffees? On the house of course. Y/N, stop staring at the poor boy. It’s not like you’ve never met him before.”

You looked at the ground for a second and blushed, smiling at the sound of Shawn’s giggle.

“Alright, what can I get you guys?”

They gave you their orders and you got to work, denying the ten dollar bill Shawn offered you to pay for them.

“On the house, remember? Or are you Mr. rich guy now?” you asked with a slight surge of confidence. You hadn’t seen him in years, but the urge to tease him every chance you got was still there.

“Ooh, okay. You think I’ve changed that much?”

“A little bit. It’s been a while.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. I am the exact same person as I was three years ago.”

“I’m not too sure about that, but okay.”

Shawn rolled his eyes and put the bill in the tip jar. “Alright, coffee girl. I would like my coffee in two minutes flat. No more no less. Brian is on a very tight schedule so we have to get him home in time for his nap.”

So Brian was his name. “Your wish is my command, good sir,” you said, bowing at him before turning around to start the drinks. You could hear Shawn giggle behind you, sending an eruption of butterflies to your stomach.

Shawn felt a slight nervous tinge as well. One that wasn’t quite his. He felt completely natural around you but maybe his soulmate was somewhere else feeling nervous about a presentation or something.

You gave the boys their coffee, sticking your tongue out at Shawn when he commented on how it took three and a half minutes instead of two and demanded his money back. You returned to the counter, trying your best to focus on studying. You kept getting distracted by Shawn’s voice, which carried across the shop, as he talked to Eileen. He was sitting in the same two person table against the wall that you used to sit in during your weekly visits.

“You need to go talk to him.” You jumped slightly when you noticed Eileen next to you.

“I don’t think he wants to talk to me,” you replied tentatively, flipping the page of your book in hopes that it would make it look like you were actually studying. The burst of confidence was gone and you came to the reality that you were both no longer the same person you used to be, therefore, you couldn’t keep that same dynamic.

“What makes you say that?”

“I dunno. Just a feeling.”

“Go talk to him. I know you want to.” She gave you a knowing look and you sighed. “I’ll take over for you for a bit. Go talk to your best friend.”

“But he’s with Brian and I don’t really know Brian and what if they don’t want to talk to me they just wanted to hang out and-”

“Y/N.”

Suddenly, the butterflies grew, and it became more of bird wings than butterflies. You took a deep breath and made you way over there, praying that it would be over quickly and you could go back to studying by yourself.

You quietly pulled up a chair and sat in it, waiting for Shawn to finish whatever story he was telling Brian.

“Y/N, just in time,” he said with enthusiasm. “I was just telling Brian the story about Willy the window cat.”

“Ahh, a classic.” Shawn could sense your unease and quickly introduced you to Brian. He was well aware of your lack of people skills and how uncomfortable you got around new people.

You spent the better part of the rest of the hour catching up with each other, Shawn doing a lot more talking than you, which you were completely fine with. You tried your best to not show how nervous you felt.

Even as you tried your best to hide it, Shawn was picking up on the nervous habits. Your lifestyles might’ve changed but you were still the shy girl who subconsciously picked at the inside of her elbow and bounced her foot excessively when nervous. It didn’t matter if you hadn’t seen each other in years, he still knew you like the back of his hand.

There were days, back when you were really friends, where he would reach over and grab your hand so you would stop picking, or place his hand on your knee to stop the bouncing. He chose to ignore it now, realizing that you had grown apart, and now wasn’t the time to jump back in so intimately. You were always self conscious about the habits and he didn’t want to make you more nervous by pointing them out.

Even though he was more focused on you throughout the conversation, he noticed how Brian was seemingly getting more and more bored hearing him talk. As much as he wanted to stay and talk to you, he knew he should probably get going. This was supposed to be a quick pit stop to drop in and say hello, not an hour long catch up with the girl he used to be sure was his.

“We should get going. I think Brian is going to walk home if I stay here much longer.” Brian’s head perked up at the mention of his name and Shawn chuckled.

“Meet you at the car. Nice meeting you, Y/N.” He was up and out the door in a matter of seconds, causing Shawn to chuckle again.

It didn’t sit all that well with you though.

Oh no, he doesn’t like me.

He thinks I’m some weirdo who doesn’t talk.

I barely know the guy and he already hates me.

“We should meet up, just the two of us, sometime. I’m on a break from tour if you’re free anytime soon,” Shawn said, breaking you out of your thoughts. “And don’t worry about Brian. I think he’s just tired.”

It did little to ease your fears but you smiled like it did anyways. Were you that easy to read? “Uhh, yeah. I have exams next week but we can meet after that.”

“Alright, how does the eighteenth sound?”

“That works.” You stood up and put your chair back at the table it came from, turning around to find Shawn closer than you expected him to be.

“Awesome. Text me your address so I can pick you up and take you somewhere.”

“Okay.” He threw you his signature smile and it made you melt a little.

“It was great seeing you, Y/N. Tell Eileen I said bye.”

“Good seeing you too and you got it.”

He pulled you into a quick side hug and left.

As much as you tried, you couldn’t study for the rest of your shift. Only three more customers came in within the two hours you had left, so you spent a decent amount of time staring at the wall and stressing about meeting up with Shawn. Two weeks gave you plenty of time to stress about it, which led to thinking of ways to get out of it.

Maybe if I don’t text him the address, he’ll forget, you thought as you stared at your phone the next day, messages open to Shawn’s name, your thumb hovering over the keyboard. It could work. That was enough to convince you to turn off your phone and worry about it later. You went back to working on the presentation you were working on, only pausing when you felt the buzz buzz of your phone telling you that you got a text.

From Shawn: Hey, what’s your address? What time do you want me to pick you up?

You panicked slightly, upset that your plan had already fallen apart. You decided to ignore it for the time being. You would worry about it later.

“Hey, Y/N, can I borrow your phone for a second? Mine’s dead,” Alana asked as she came into the dorm.

“Sure,” you said as you handed her the phone, not bothering to look away from your computer.

“Who’s Shawn and why is he asking where you live?”

Your eyes widened as you realized you forgot to clear the message. “He’s just an old friend. We’re uhh meeting up since we haven’t seen each other in a while.”

“Well are you going to text him back or do I have to do it?”

“I will, later.”

“You’re actually going to do it?” she asked with a curious smile. “And you’re actually going to meet up with him?”

“Yeah . . .”

“I’m holding you to this.”

“What, why? I’m capable of handling my own social life.”

“Sure you are. You’re not getting out of this though. I know that look.”

You sighed and glared at her. She knew you too well. “Do you actually need my phone?”

“Yes, I need to call my mom.” She sent you a sweet smile and you shook your head. “Thank you.”

You texted Shawn at 9:12 that night, six hours after he sent the original message. 9:12 specifically so it looked like you just saw it and responded as soon as you did, not like you ignored it and were planning to send it at a specific time, like 9:15.

He responded thirty seconds later with a thumbs up.

The day of the meetup was stressful. You had already been in your head about it for the past two weeks, but you really started worrying when you realized you had no idea what was going to happen.

Shawn refused to tell you where you were going, only telling you to dress comfortably and that you would only be gone for a few hours. Being a person who liked schedules and knowing exactly what was going on, this didn’t make you too happy. It sounded a lot like a date, which only made you more stressed.

“Do you think this will be okay?” you asked Alana. You were wearing jean shorts and a semi-cute top. Not too fancy but not too casual.

“Is this a date or friend meetup?”

“Friend meetup.”

“You look great.” She could sense the hesitation as you looked in the mirror, deciding if you agreed with her or not. “You’re gonna be fine. From what I’ve heard, you were best friends for a long time. You’ll be back to that in no time.”

“I don’t know. It’s been so long and-” You were interrupted by a text from Shawn telling you he was there if you were ready.

“Go have fun. Take a deep breath and stop worrying about it, alright?”

“Okay.” You gave her a smile before putting your phone in your back pocket and leaving. You could see Shawn leaning against his car and looking at his phone once you left the building.

Shawn had been quite excited to hang out with you again. There wasn’t any part of him that was nervous until he went to get drinks for the two of you that morning. It had been slowly building up all day, but it felt more like his soulmate’s than his own.

“Hey, you,” he said with a smile. “Ready to go?”

“You bet,” you smiled back at him, walking to the other side of the car to get in.

“I got you a frappuccino.” He gestured to the cup holder. “I don’t know if what you like has changed but it’s what you used to get so I hope it’s okay.”

“My taste hasn’t changed a bit,” you chuckled. “Thank you. That’s really sweet of you.”

“Of course. What better way to rekindle our friendship than by reliving the old times?”

“True, true.” You discretely wiped your palms on your shorts, unsure if it was from nerves or the heat. “Want to tell me where you’re going?”

“Nope. It’s a surprise.” His eyes had a mischievous glint to them. He knew how much it was bothering you.

“This feels like a first date,” you mumbled, avoiding eye contact. You knew that Shawn was like this by default, but you couldn’t help but feel a little extra awkward anyways.

“Not my intention,” he chuckled. “I just wanted to be nice.”

“I know, I’m just awkward.”

Shawn laughed and shook his head.

You didn’t drive for much longer, arriving at a small park no more than fifteen minutes after you started.

“I figured we could walk and catch up, if you’re good with that.”

“That’s good. Why didn’t you just tell me we were going to the park though?”

“Wanted you to get worked up about it.”

You gasped. “That’s mean.”

“Gotta balance the niceness out somehow.”

You spent two hours walking around and catching up. You felt yourself ease up as you talked. He was still your Shawn and he barely changed from the last time you talked. The evening ended with a hug and promise to hang out again soon.

“See,” Alana told you when you told her how well it went. “Sometimes you need to just give yourself the push.”

The more and more time you spent together, the more and more Shawn became sure that you were the mystery soulmate whose emotions he had been feeling.

He would feel a twinge of extra excitement before you hung out or right before you texted him I got an A on that essay!!!!!

He was never completely sure though and never told you about it. He wanted to test the theory but wasn’t sure how he could do it without you knowing.

Meanwhile, your search for your soulmate slowed. You came to terms that they would come when the time was right and that you needed to enjoy life as it was. Your best friend was on a break from his hectic life for the first time in a long time and you wanted to spend all the time you could with him. You felt a little less anxious when you were around him, which could also be attributed to the lack of school work due to summer break, but you liked to believe he was helping.

The great thing about Shawn was that he knew not to push too hard. Alana didn’t always know when to stop pushing you towards doing things out of your comfort zone. You’ll admit, it was sometimes good for you. Other times, it caused way more anxiety than necessary and you would be out of it for the rest of the day. Shawn, on the other hand, could tell when something really could be too much and would stop.

There was only one time when he knew he was pushing too hard but continued anyways.

“You wanna be my date to the Grammys?” You had discussed his nomination earlier that day, but he never mentioned bringing someone with him before.

“Date?” You had a playful smirk on your face and Shawn just rolled his eyes and nudged your shoulder.

“Do you wanna be my extra person who’s my best friend, not date, cause I don’t have a date, date?

“As amazing as that sounds, I don’t think so. Way too many people.” You hoped he would just drop the subject.

“Come on, it would be fun. Besides, how often do you get an invitation to the Grammys?

“Never . . . because I don’t want to go.”

“Please, Y/N. I don’t have anyone else to take and we would have such a good time.”

“Take Aaliyah.”

“She probably has stuff going on.”

You have tons of other friends. Take one of them.”

“Yeah but you’re my best friend and I want to take you.”

“Shawn I really don’t think I should. There’s gonna be a ton of people there and I don’t have the money to buy a fancy dress-”

“I’ll buy you a dress and stay with you the entire night.”

“I can’t ask you to do that. Besides-”

“Please, Y/N. I will beg you every day until you say yes. Just this one time, then I promise I will never ever make you go to a party or awards show of any kind.”

“Fine,” you sighed. You knew that it was a bad idea but you also knew that Shawn would hold true to the begging.

“Thank youuu.” He reached over and pulled you into a hug

“You owe me.”

The week before the Grammys was more anxiety inducing than anything in your entire life.

You got your dress a month ago but was starting to have second thoughts on it. Was it fancy enough? You had scrolled through endless pictures of past Grammy looks and everything looked so much more elaborate than your midnight blue dress. Tiffany had picked out the dress for you, noting how you wanted something elegant but nothing that would make you stick out.

You had to admit, you loved the dress. It fit you perfectly. You were yet to show Shawn but you knew he would love it. There was just one part of you that thought that everyone would think it was too simple and know that you had no business being there.

Shawn was doing his best to help you through the anxiety.

“Think of the best possible situation,” he told you.

“Nobody notices me and I stay completely under the radar or they note that I’m your friend who’s been seen with you before and leave me alone.”

“Now tell me the worst possible situation.”

“I do something embarrassing and stick out so that everyone notices and realizes that I’m obviously not supposed to be there.”

“See how the worst case scenario is so much more unlikely to happen?”

“Shawn, I know it’s irrational but I can’t help it. No matter what, I’m going to have a worst case scenario.”

“I know you are. Y/N, I do too. But think for a second,” he said. “Everyone else is too caught up in their own affairs to give a flying shit about what you’re doing. Unless you walk the red carpet with me, they probably won’t even notice you.”

You knew Shawn was right. You knew the worst case scenario was irrational, you just couldn’t help but dwell on it; you were so scared of embarrassing yourself. You were once again planning excuses for not being able to go. I’m really sick and throwing up everywhere or There’s a family emergency. I can’t go.

But even as you worried more and more, you knew how much you needed to do it for Shawn. He had done so much for you. You could do this one thing.

“You ready?” Shawn asked with a huge grin. He had been getting more and more excited by the day. The happiness blocked the intensely anxious feelings of his soulmate to the slightest. At this point, he was almost positive you were his soulmate. Of course, anyone could be this anxious for a long period of time and it just coincidental to yours. He wanted more time to think about it though and if it was true, to tell you at a time when you were in a better mental state.

“Not really, but I don’t think I have a choice,” you said through the door. You had to admit, you felt absolutely beautiful. Your thoughts of sticking out because of your dress were fading with every look in the mirror.

“I’m sure you look absolutely fantastic.”

“That’s not the problem but thank you.” You both giggled at that and you wished you could get over yourself and go out there.

“You know I’ll be with you the whole night, right?” His tone changed to a more serious one, and it was comforting to know he cared so much.

“I know, but still.”

“Can I see you now? This is easier when I can see your face.”

“Yeah,” you chuckled, opening the door slightly before taking a deep breath and stepping out. You grasped your hands behind your back and smiled shyly as Shawn stared at you in awe.

“Wow,” he whispered. “You look absolutely stunning.”

Heat rushed to your cheeks and you looked down to your feet.

“Come here.” He pulled you into a hug, his head resting on your head as yours was on his chest. “You’re going to be amazing tonight, okay? So stop worrying so much and enjoy it as it comes.”

“I’m trying.”

“I know you are, I just wanted to remind you.” He squeezed you tighter for a second and drew back, smiling widely before completely letting go.

You both said nothing as you got into the car to go to the show, allowing yourselves to try to relax before the long night ahead of you.

“Good luck,” you grinned as he prepared to get out of the car for the red carpet.

“Thanks, see you soon.” He took your hand and squeezed it, causing the butterflies in your stomach to explode. He stepped out of the car and winked at you, laughing at the finger guns you sent him before he closed the door.

You both agreed that it was best for you not to walk the red carpet. You didn’t want to be bombarded with questions asking if you were in a relationship and Shawn didn’t want to have to deal with the drama it would cause afterwards. You decided to meet inside, which led to you awkwardly standing around and waiting for him to come in.

After what felt like a lifetime and a half of avoiding eye contact and trying to look like you belonged, Shawn appeared at your side.

“How’d it go?”

“Good. Took some really hot pictures I think people will enjoy.”

“How is that possible? You can’t take hot pictures.”

“As if I haven’t caught you ogling over pictures of me before.”

“As if,” you scoffed and Shawn let out a loud laugh, which made you laugh as well.

“Alright, sassy pants, let’s find our seats.”

The show went well and you eventually realized that you got worked up more than you needed to. You didn’t have to interact with many people and you were able to sit in a seat and enjoy the show more than you thought you could.

What you should have been worried about though, was the afterparty.

Shawn said you didn’t have to go but you could see how much he wanted to. You also knew that if you told him you were going to go home but he should go to the party, he would opt to go with you. So, against your better judgement of what you were up for that night, you decided to go under the condition that Shawn would stay with you the whole time.

It was a little too loud and crowded for your liking but you did your best to hide the discomfort. The faster you got out, the better, but you were going to try to enjoy the party the best you could.

Unbeknownst to you, Shawn could definitely sense your discomfort. Something inside himself was telling him he should take you home, but everytime he suggested you leave, you insisted that you wanted him to have fun and that you would stay until he wanted to go. You knew he came with intentions of talking to other people and refused to leave until he did so.

“But I’ll have fun with you.”

“Shawn Mendes, if you do not socialize tonight, you will spend the rest of your life regretting it so I suggest you start mingling.”

“I feel like that’s an overstatement, but fine.” He started walking away but turned around when he noticed you weren’t following. “Come on, wallflower, I’m not allowed to leave you by yourself.”

You rolled your eyes but pushed yourself off the wall and made your way towards him anyways.

He made his way around, talking to friends and a few people he didn’t know, making sure you were close at all times. You were quiet the whole time, only speaking when asked a question. Like with Alana, people tended to be more interested in the person you were with than you yourself.

Shawn caught you picking at the inside of your elbow a few times. Part of him wanted to scold you for doing it, but he knew it was a subconscious habit and that you couldn’t do much about it unless he pointed it out. He would wrap his arm around you, gently placing his hand over the spot so you couldn’t pick at it. You would sigh once you realized you were doing it again and Shawn would squeeze your upper arm lightly, as if to say, it’s alright.

He eventually gave you a water bottle to keep your hands busy and you accepted it graciously, secretly in awe of how he knew you so well. He was about ready to go after that, drained from the long night, when someone called his name. He made his way towards them and you tried to follow but got blocked off by someone walking in between you. In a split second he was gone, and your anxiety only grew as you struggled to find him.

You found yourself standing next to a table, texting Shawn to tell him where to find you once he was ready to go. You hoped it wouldn’t take too long, but the voice who called him sounded like Niall’s, and you knew they would want to talk for a while.

Shawn was too busy talking to Niall to notice the growing anxiety coming from his soulmate. He didn’t even notice that you weren’t next to him.

You tried your best to blend in, something you thought you were doing a good job of, when someone who looked very vaguely familiar tried to talk to you.

“That dress looks quite lovely on you,” he said.

“Thanks,” you said rather quietly. There was an awkward pause for a second and you wondered if he was waiting for you to say something else.

“Enjoying the party?” He stepped slightly forward to let someone pass behind him.

You stepped back to keep the space, forgetting about the table and knocking into it full force. A loud clanging noise could be heard as a few platters flew off and your eyes grew wide at the realization of what you just did.

The man in front of you laughed but his attention was quickly called elsewhere.The people around you looked behind themselves to see what was going on. The looks of confusion and giggles probably lasted no more than a few seconds, but it was enough to send you into a full panic.

The lights were suddenly too bright and all the noises around you jumbled into a muffle. You pressed your back against a wall as you tried to gain your composure, panicking more when you couldn’t. The music was too loud for anyone to hear your rapid breathing but you wanted nothing more than for someone to come help you; for Shawn to come help you.

“Yeah we definitely need to meet up sometime soon,” Niall said to Shawn.

“Totally. I’m-” He was cut off by a paralyzing burst of panic. He didn’t even have to think to know it was you. The urge to protect you came over him and he quickly excused himself from Niall to find you.

It didn’t take long to see you standing against the wall and curling in on yourself. He felt like he couldn’t get there fast enough. There was nothing he wanted more than to take the worry away from you but it felt like there were a million people in between you.

“Breath, Y/N, breath,” he said once he finally made it to you. Your eyes locked with his and he could see the absolute panic in them. “I’m going to take your arm so we can go outside, okay?”

You nodded frantically, allowing Shawn to guide you to outside. The cool air was a relief but did little to calm you down. Shawn gently leaned you against a wall and put one of your hands on his chest.

“Breath with me, sweetheart,” he said, exaggerating his breathing to help you. “You’re okay. Just focus on breathing.”

“I’m sorry,” you muttered once you calmed down and your breathing returned to a normal rate.

“Y/N, no. You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“But I messed up your night and-”

“It’s not your fault. I know exactly how you feel and I promise you, it’s not your fault.” He could see from the look in your eyes that you didn’t believe him and it broke his heart. “Come here,” he said as he wrapped his arms tightly around you, one around your waist, one pressing your head to his chest.

“I know you think it’s your fault, but you did absolutely nothing wrong,” he said lowly, leaning his head down close to your ear so you could hear him. “If anything, it’s my fault for not realizing you weren’t with me.” He felt you tense up and rubbed his hand up and down your back. “You are amazing and wonderful and so strong, Y/N. We all have our low points. Nobody is blaming you for anything.”

You didn’t say anything and Shawn took that as a sign to stop talking. He held you in his embrace for a few minutes longer, relaxing a little when he felt your arms wrap around him.

“Let’s get you home.”

“You should stay.”

“Y/N.”

You dropped it and let him call an Uber, hugging him again once he finished. “Thank you.”

“Anytime.” He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, and you felt yourself once again wishing he was your soulmate.

After a long talk with Shawn the next morning, you decided to go to the doctor to get an official diagnosis. The social anxiety diagnosis also came with the recommendation of therapy. It was time to take control of your anxiety and your life.

Shawn was there for it all. Helping you through the bad days and celebrating the good ones. You were celebrating a good one today and Shawn could feel your happiness before you even walked through the door.

“You won’t believe what I did!” You exclaimed once you were seated on the couch. “I needed this tomato sauce but I couldn’t find it anywhere in the store but I knew they had it somewhere. So instead of not getting it, I actually asked one of the people working there where it was.”

“Good job!” The smile on his face was huge as he gave you a high-five. “Was it really that scary?”

“Yes, but I did it, which is more important than if it’s scary.”

He was so proud of you. It had taken a few months, but therapy was doing wonders for you. It might have been small progress, but even small progress was big progress.

He had held off on telling you about the soulmate situation, wanting you to be in a better space before he dropped the bombshell. Now felt like a good time to do it.

“Not to take away from you, but I have some good news myself.”

“Tell me!” The eager look on your face made him even more nervous for some reason, but he knew he needed to do it.

“A few months ago, I started feeling these feelings.”

“Oh wow.”

“Shut up,” he giggled. “They were emotions that weren’t mine. Like, they felt like someone else’s.”

You nodded your head, having an idea of what was coming: he finally found his soulmate and it wasn’t you.

“And at first I couldn’t figure out who they belonged to but then I met you again.” He looked up at you but your face was blank. “And then I was starting to feel feelings you were experiencing. Like you would text me about being happy and that background feeling of extra happiness would be there but I wasn’t sure if it was really you.”

“Are you trying to test it out now?” He could see you trying to put the pieces together.

“No, I kinda already did in a way?” You looked even more confused so he kept going. “When we went to the Grammys I could feel how anxious you were. And then we went to the party and I could feel it but it wasn’t anything that was too overwhelming. Then, I went to talk to Niall, which is when you had that panic attack, right?”

You nodded.

“And I was fine but then there was this really really intense second of pure panic and I just knew. Some kind of protective instinct went off in me and I just had to get to you.”

There was a pause as he let you process what was happening.

“Y/N, I think you’re my soulmate.”

There was a deafening silence but Shawn was too scared to look at your face to see your reaction.

“You really think?”

“I know it sounds crazy but-”

“Could we really be soulmates?”

“. . . yes?” He finally looked at you to see a smile creeping its way along your face.

“Holy fucking cow.” You both burst into laughter, leaning into each other as you did.

“I’m glad it’s you,” Shawn said once your laughs turned into tiny giggles. He looked at you with a glimmer in his eyes.

“I’m glad it’s you too.”

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