#they were a happy bubble of bliss set apart from the world

[deathbyoctopi]

again did something ridiculous I need to share XD

[ppersonna]

swipe right - jjk | m

“ i wanna ruin our friendship. we should be lovers instead. i don't know how to say this, cause you're really my dearest friend “ - jenny, studio killers

♡ summary-  after a horrible breakup, you sign back up for tinder and ironically match with your best friend, jungkook. a date for fun is harmless, right?

♡ genre- best friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, jk is a minecraft streamer, brother namjoon, brother-in-law jimin, namjoon is kind of a himbo stay at home dad ngl, ex-boyfriend seokjin (mentioned but doesnt show up)

♡ word count- 9k

♡ warnings- mentions of a bad breakup (smh seokjin wtf??), penetrative sex, unprotected sex (u know the business folx), oral sex (m receiving), teasing, SO MUCH BODY WORSHIP, jk is a simp, slight dirty talk, lots of just talking during sex yall it happens, creampie, cum play, praise praise body worship praise, did i mention body worship, tit-fucking, cum eating, i think thats all.

♡ a/n - helloooo and thank you for your wait for this fic! i’m so happy its done and i loved writing it! it’s a little bit different feel for my usual style of writing (smut-wise) so please tell me your thoughts! i didn’t use dom/sub themes OR a daddy kink LMAOOOO praise me please. i hope you enjoy!! pls feel free to comment, chat, message, carrier pigeon, email, mail, WHATEVER U WANT, me. i love u babies. thank you to @kimtaehyunq​ for the sexy banner. and for @xjoonchildx @ladyartemesia​ @untaemedqueen​ for the writing support and idea generation. i would be nothing without my council. and thank you to my beta editors @hobi-gif and @ughseoks​ and @hongism​ for the perusal and help in writing this!

Jungkook is the person you call when your world falls apart.

He answers, voice raspy from the late hour, and the second he asks you what’s wrong, the downpour of torrential tears you’ve been holding back finally escapes and you’re sobbing through the phone that you just lost the love of your life—that he left and with little effort on his part, and a lot on yours.

Jungkook listens to you—his heart aching deep in his chest at hearing the utter heartbreak that’s clear in your voice. You’ve never been hurt like this, and he’s desperate to hold you, to make it go away. He wants to drive over to Seokjin’s house and throw a left hook into his stupid, handsome face for making you feel you weren’t worth it.

Because if there’s anything in the world that Jungkook knows, it’s that you’re worth it. You’re worth everything. Add up all the money and all the gold in the entire world, and it still doesn’t meet a fraction of what you’re worth to him.

“Where are you?” He asks as he cradles the phone against one arm and pulls on his jeans.  

You sniffle. “Jungkook, it’s 3 am.”

“So? I was up playing Minecraft,” He lies. “Where are you?”

You can’t help but laugh the tiniest bit, a sliver of warmth wrapping itself around your raw and exposed heart. Like a balm to a flesh wound. It doesn’t heal it, not yet.

“I’m at our park.”

Jungkook smiles as he grips the phone back in his hand. The park. The place you and Jungkook spent your childhood playing make-believe games, and formative teenage years loitering around smoking clove cigarettes to look cool.

“Give me five minutes, okay?”

You nod, even though he can’t see you. 

“Okay.”

Jungkook arrives with two minutes to spare. His beat up Nissan that he insists is “vintage” and “priceless” idles next to you.

He can see you through the darkened glass of your car—your mascara is running down your face, tears streaked through your flawlessly applied makeup.

You still look so beautiful.

And it angers Jungkook that all that time you spent looking good for Seokjin meant nothing to him.

He motions for you to come over, pats the passenger seat next to him and smiles as he watches you open the door and slide into the security of his familiar car.

“You cleaned your car,” you murmur as you notice a severe lack of McDonald’s trash.

He sniffs haughtily. 

“The trash added character.”

Jungkook doesn’t give you a chance to respond. Instead, he’s unbuckling his seatbelt and pulling you as close to him as he can get you. The instant his arms wrap around your body, the floodgates open again and your once-quieted tears turn back into full-fledged sobs.

“I loved him,” you gasp through the pain in your throat.

He rubs your back, pats your hair gently, soothing you the way he has for years now. Through every breakup, through every family fight with your older brother Namjoon, through all the mean girls in high school. Jungkook is the north star—always consistent, always guiding you back to safety.

“I know, babe,” he sighs. “You deserve someone who’s going to treat you right, who’s not just going to give up when things get hard.”

You choke back a cry against his Patagonia hoodie and bury your face further into the crook of his neck. He smells like Old Spice and the shampoo he uses, along with the smell of laundry soap you buy for him—he uses dish soap when he runs out and nearly broke his washing machine last time.

“I thought he was the one. I’m so stupid.”

Jungkook swallows hard. Tonight is about comforting you, not about feeling sorry for himself that you’re his best friend and not his girlfriend. He can’t help but think of what kind of life he would give you. He knows it’s one that wouldn’t end with you crying in a parking lot at 3 AM.

“You’re not stupid, you just loved him. And there’s nothing stupid about loving someone, even if it doesn’t work out,” he sighs as he cradles your head against him. It feels right having you there, pressed up against him and seeking comfort from the solace of his arms.

“Let’s go get a milkshake, yeah?” He asks as you pull your head up and look at him with sad, glassy eyes.

“Yeah,” you nod after a moment of staring.

Jungkook’s eyes sparkle with love, with hope. It makes the desperate, alone feeling inside you—disappear. Jungkook presses a soft kiss to your forehead and then starts the shaky ignition of his car, that takes three cranks of the key before it turns over.

He sends you a look, a laugh evident on your face.

“Don’t even start,” he warns. “The engine is fine.”

“Whatever you say,” you snort as you wipe an errant tear from your face.  

“It’s a certified classic car! I could get millions for this baby!”

As the weeks pass, the pain of losing Seokjin becomes further and further from your mind. You can get through the day without crying anytime you see something that reminds you of him and even start flirting with others without feeling like you’re cheating.

You just still haven’t reached the point where dating someone else even feels possible. You’re terrified of allowing someone close to you, letting them into a place where you’re inviting them to possibly hurt you. You’re not sure your heart is ready for it. 

“I think you’re just scared,” your older brother Namjoon states as he warms up a bottle of milk in boiling water. 

He cradles his new baby in one arm while the other works at the bottle of milk. 

“I’m not scared,” you huff. “I just don’t think it’s the right time.” 

Namjoon sighs and hands the gurgling newborn baby off to you and readies the bottle for you to feed your new niece, Jisoo. 

“Look, Seokjin sucks, okay? I know you two were together for some time, but in the end, he wasn’t the right one for you. There’s someone out there who is the right one for you. You know how many shit frogs I had to kiss before I got my prince?” 

You make a face as you feed Jisoo, who happily sucks and gazes at the lights above. 

“You call Jimin a prince?” 

Namjoon sighs dreamily as he watches the baby and thinks of his husband. 

“The dreamiest prince,” he breathes, eyes closed in bliss. “But back to your problems. I think you should get back out there. Go on some dates, meet some people. No one is telling you to fall in love and get married tomorrow. Just go have some fun.” 

You allow Namjoon’s words to mull through your mind. What could be the harm in joining a few dating sites, perhaps spending some time at the gym or grocery store flirting with someone cute?

“Fine,” you say. “I’ll think about it.” 

“Good. I can’t be the only one giving our parents grand-babies. Soo needs a cousin.” 

You smile down at the tiny bundle in your arms and imagine a future where you have a baby of your own. 

“Okay, I’m not trying to get knocked up, Joon.” 

“Whatever,” he sighs. “Help me choose a wall color for me and Jimin’s new master bathroom.” 

Tinder’s changed since the last time you used it, years ago. It’s gone from any semblance of dating to strictly an app used to get laid. 

It’s discouraging swiping through all the obvious fuckboys. Sure, a quick and easy lay sounds great, but you’re also trying to go out and enjoy real, traditional dates, and it seems none of these guys want to step foot outside of a bedroom. 

The swiping left becomes almost monotonous. You’re sitting on your couch, watching some documentary about serial killers, when a startling profile pops up on your Tinder feed. 

The picture that pops up is... Jungkook. You can’t stop the bubble of laughter that leaps from your chest. His profile is so authentically Jungkook that you’re swiping right before you even know it. 

Your brain doesn’t even comprehend what a match with Jungkook means, really. You’re still laughing as you click on the bubble to message him and send him as many laugh emojis as you can. 

“Hey guys, what’s up, Kookie here with another Let’s Play Minecraft video for ya. Be sure to like and subscribe if you enjoy this kind of content.”

Jungkook’s headset is firmly wrapped around his head, mic next to his mouth and hands at the ready on his mouse and keyboard. He’s set and in the zone. 

The game is well into play when the familiar chime of his phone goes off. It’s a Tinder notification—he can tell by the sound. He can’t help but roll his eyes, wondering what sort of boring conversation he’s meant to have with a girl who will probably ghost him, anyway. 

He lazily lifts his phone and glances at the notification, before dropping it back to the desk. 

His hand freezes on his mouse as he finally comprehends what he just read. 

He just matched with YOU. 

His best friend. 

His secret, lifelong crush. 

He sputters something into the microphone and stops recording his game, wildly grasping for the phone and unlocking it. 

YN: 😂😂😂😂 is your bio a Minecraft pickup line?!

He pauses, attempts to collect his thoughts, before desperately typing on his screen. 

JUNGKOOK: Why? 😉😏 did it work?

You spend the rest of your night jokingly flirting with Jungkook, sending GIFs and emojis in between the silly lines you’re using on each other. 

Right before you’re about to head to sleep, Jungkook sends one last message. 

JUNGKOOK: What if we went on a date lolol. Haha jk. Unless?? 👀👀👀

Your thumbs hover over the keys to your phone. 

A date with Jungkook? Even though you matched with him, you’ve never thought of a date with your childhood best friend. 

YN: alright, it’s only fair since we matched 😝 show me how you treat these tinder ladies

“I have a date with Jungkook tonight,” you tell your brother, Namjoon, over the phone. 

Over the crying of your newborn niece, you hear Namjoon splutter in confusion. 

“You what!?” He nearly screams. “Jeon Jungkook? Like... the annoying kid you’ve been friends with since fourth grade?”

You huff. 

“He’s not annoying! He’s my best friend. We ironically matched on Tinder and… Well, why the fuck not? Nothing serious is going to happen. We’ll go out and have a story to tell about how incompatible we are.”

Namjoon doesn’t reply. Instead, you hear him speak to his husband. 

“She’s going on a date with Jungkook,” he says over the muffle of his hand on the receiver.

There’s a shuffle, and the dulcet voice of your brother-in-law, Jimin, comes over the line. 

“Girl,” he starts. “What the fuck?”

You chuckle as you move about your closet, trying to decide what’s appropriate to wear on a date with your best friend. 

“It’s nothing!” 

“Mm-hmm,” Jimin tuts. “You know the boy is in love with you.” 

“Okay, Chim, you’ve been spending too much time cooped up with my brother. It’s affecting your grip on reality.”

“Sure, honey. I just tell it like it is. Don’t break his heart.” 

You roll your eyes. 

“I won’t break his heart because there’s nothing there, Jimin.”

“I’ll be expecting your call later.”

“Yes, dad. Love you guys.”

“We love you too, sweetheart. But really, don’t break that poor boy’s heart.”

You open your mouth to retort yet another reassurance that there’s nothing to break, but the line goes dead.

“Fucking Jimin,” you mutter as you throw your phone to the bed.

You can’t allow yourself to think that Jungkook might have feelings for you. It’s totally out of the questions. He’s your best friend. The guy who shoves Cheetos up his nose to make you laugh and falls asleep during every movie night with his face in the popcorn bowl. He’s just Jungkook. This date is just a funny way to hang out.

So, why do you care so much about what you wear?

You’re still standing in front of your closet, attempting to find something respectable to wear. It doesn’t matter that the last time Jungkook saw you; it was with mascara streaming down your face and a hoodie from Namjoon’s college swimming days and ripped leggings. Jungkook has seen you in nearly everything you wear, so your indecisiveness gives you pause.

Do you want Jungkook to be attracted to you? Do you want to do your best to look as presentable as you would for a normal date?

The thudding of your heart tells you that maybe you’re more interested in this being a date than you’re allowing yourself to believe.

You shake all thoughts off. 

No, you won’t allow yourself to overthink a night that should just be fun.

You settle for a fitted and simple summer dress, tights and heels. Simple, easy, respectable but also showing enough cleavage and sculpt of your ass to ensure you look more dressed up than not.

Perfect.

With one last look in the mirror, you’re ready.

JUNGKOOK: I’m outside!

ME: See you soon!

Jungkook taps his foot anxiously as he sits on the bench outside your apartment. His tight black jeans feel like a second skin on his legs, and the black button-down shirt he’s tucked in makes him rethink his choice of outfit.

Is he too casual?

He’s never really worn something like this around you. This is what Jungkook wears when he wants to seduce. This is what every girl he’s desperately wished was you got to see. The girls who swooned over his messy hair, the way his jeans display his toned thighs, the peek of skin at his throat.

Maybe it’s too much.

Maybe he’s afraid he’ll scare you away.

Maybe he’s afraid you won’t like it.

He’s given no chance to ruminate anymore because you’re exiting the building and walking straight towards him.

He doesn’t think he remembers how to breathe.

It’s as if you walk towards him in slow motion. Angels chorus around him and the setting sun sparkles on your face like a spotlight. There’s nothing in the world anymore, nothing but you.

You’re the most beautiful human he’s ever seen in his life.

“Hi,” you smile as you approach him.

He continues to stare, eyes traveling over the soft curves of your cheeks and jaw, trailing down to the way your dress clings just right to each dip of your body. His throat goes dry.

You are without a doubt the girl of his dreams. 

“Jungkook?”

It pushes him out of his reverie, eyes widening as he realizes he’s been staring at you for maybe a few minutes too long to play off as normal.

“Hey!” He coughs, attempting to right himself.

“You okay?” You ask, eyebrow lifted in concern.

“Yeah! Yup! Totally! I’m okay—a-okay, absolutely great.” He internally slaps himself.

“You clean up nice,” you smile as your eyes elevate up and down the lean form of his body.

“Oh?” He asks, taken aback. 

In his daze, he never even realized what you’re thinking about him, rather only how intensely he was thinking about you.

“This must be the Jungkook that all the girls in college couldn’t stop begging me to hook them up with.”

His cheeks flame with sudden embarrassment, hand moving to the back of his neck to rub it awkwardly. 

“Ha, yeah,” he swallows. “You look r-really nice too. I don’t think I’ve seen you in a dress since your brother’s wedding.”

The smile that he’s rewarded with nearly knocks him on his ass. “Thanks! It’s fun to dress up cute again. Jin hated this dress.”

A stab of pain eeks its way into Jungkook’s heart. Seokjin. God, how he hates that man.

“Well, uh, you can wear whatever you want with me!” He assures. 

You loop your arm around Jungkook’s, saddling up to his side as you look at him expectantly.

“Well, are we going?”

Jungkook can’t help but smile at the sparkle in your eye, the way you peer up at him with those soft, cherry lips. He wants to capture them with his own, kiss you until you don’t remember Seokjin’s name ever again.

But he resists.

“Let’s go!”

You never thought you’d admit it to yourself. You never even thought it could happen. 

But the date is everything you’ve ever wanted, and more. 

Jungkook is still Jungkook, still just as silly and easy to talk to as he always is. 

But he’s also charming. Flirtatious, even. He holds doors open for you; he rests his hand on the small of your back as he guides you towards your table at dinner. He feeds you bites of his dessert and lets his eyes linger on the way your lips look wrapped around his fork. 

Jungkook treats you the way you’ve always wanted to be treated. Like someone he wants to cherish for the rest of your combined lives. Someone he wants to take care of, build a future with, enjoy life with.

And as much as it thrills you, it absolutely frightens you. 

It’s when you’re walking down the small river trail together that Jungkook slips his hand into yours and laces your fingers together. The once-steady beat of your heart becomes erratic. He continues chatting—as if holding your hand was a subconscious act for him. He’s knee deep in a story of his Minecraft server when you stop walking, causing him to pause. 

“What’s up?” He asks curiously. 

Your eyes glitter with anticipation, with fear, as you stare at the gorgeous man before you. He looks like a full course meal in his tight jeans and he makes you feel like a princess. You can suddenly see doing life by his side—no longer his platonic best friend, but as his lover and lifelong partner. 

You say nothing. Instead, you simply close the space between you two by grabbing the buttons of his shirt and tugging his lips onto yours. 

“Wha—oh, mmmmmm.”

Jungkook is still for a second as he battles the surprise, but jumps into action and cups your face with his hands, deepening the kiss by pushing his tongue past your lips and swirling it around your own. 

Your bodies press close together. He can feel your breasts against his chest and he desperately wants to rip the dress off your body and worship you like he’s always wanted to. 

As soon as the kiss started, it’s over. You’re pulling away with eyes wide with fear.

“I’m sorry, I—I need to go,” you stammer awkwardly.

Jungkook’s heart drops to his stomach.

“What? We were going to get ice cream?”

You can feel tears building in the corners of your eyes. You’re so confused, so unsure of what you’re feeling. You want to stay and kiss Jungkook until you’re clawing at the clothing on his body, pressing kisses to the firm column of his neck. You want to run far away, too scared to admit it to him you’re sure you could love him for the rest of his life.

You can’t lose that friendship. You can’t risk everything you love about Jungkook. He’ll only hurt you the way every boyfriend ever has.

“I don’t really feel well,” you swallow hard as you lie. Jungkook always knows when you’re lying.

His body stiffens.

“Okay, let me walk you home.”

You shake your head, already moving away from the man.

“It’s fine. We’re nearby. I’ll just run or something.”

He opens his mouth to protest, but you’ve already turned face and started running the direction away from him.

Jungkook watches, misty-eyed, as the girl of his dreams runs further and further away from him.

You’re sobbing as you finally reach home, out of breath and confused. The phone call to Namjoon is quick.

“Yo,” he says cooly as he answers the phone. His tone changes when he hears your whimpering sobs on the other end.

“Joonie,” you whisper. “I fucked up.”

“Oh god,” Namjoon quickly shuffles and calls his husband over, before putting the phone on speaker.

“What’s happened, baby?” Jimin’s sweet voice asks.

“I—I kissed him,” you sob, holding yourself close in the comfort of the elevator. 

Namjoon and Jimin look at each other with knowing looks.

“We’re on our way over.”

Jimin knows the first order of business is to stop the crying. He places sleeping baby Jisoo in your arms, which quiets your whimpers enough as you cling to the tiny baby. He knows your weakness is sleeping babies.

Namjoon looks on anxiously, hates seeing his little sister upset and with no way to make it better.

Jimin’s been asked to take the lead on this, because he knows his husband's response is to cry as well—he gets emotional anytime he sees her cry. Namjoon agreed, knowing Jimin was better suited for the conversation.

“Tell us what happened,” Jimin asks quietly. You’re rocking the baby gently, sobs turned to sniffles. “Did something go wrong on the date?”

Your eyes peer up at your brother-in-law’s, a wounded look that makes Jimin feel sad. Namjoon clenches beside him, and Jimin lays a hand on his lap to soothe the protective brother.

“No,” you whisper. “That’s the thing. It was an amazing date.”

Jimin watches you curiously, but remains silent to let you continue.

“We had dinner, and we played arcade games and we walked around. And he was so… fuck, he was perfect. It was like dating the guy of my dreams.”

Jimin nods knowingly.

“And it surprised you how much you liked him.”

“Yeah,” you sniffle. “At the end, he was holding my hand and just talking about normal, stupid Jungkook shit, but this time it felt like more. Like, I felt in my heart that I wanted to be the one he always talked to about it. I wanted to be the one he came home to at night.”

Jimin pats your cheek lovingly, the care for his sister-in-law clear in his gaze. 

“You don’t just like him, honey. I think you might even love him.”  

You pull baby Jisoo tighter into your grasp and nod, pathetic tears slipping down your face. 

“I just left him. Like, I ran away from him like an asshole.”

Namjoon grunts and takes a spot next to Jimin. “If he loves you, which I’m sure he does, he’ll still be waiting for you.”

Jimin nods and rests a hand on his husband's back. “But you better have one hell of an apology.”

Jungkook doesn’t answer your phone calls. He doesn’t respond to your texts, snapchats or Instagram DM’s. He doesn’t even look at the TikToks you sent him! It’s becoming infuriating to get in touch with him.

You take matters into your own hands and storm to his apartment after work, the rising tension in your shoulders and stomach full of rocks an indicator of your anxiety about the future of this relationship.

Jungkook opens the door wearing nothing but a pair of grey sweats. All the carefully crafted words exit your mind at light 

speed and you’re left gasping, wide-eyed at the chiseled body of your best friend.

“Can I help you?” He asks, tone flat.

Ouch.

You push past him into the apartment you know so well. “Yeah, you could start by answering your phone.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes and closes the door, then heads back towards the large gaming setup in the living room.

“My apologies for not responding to the girl who literally ran away from me on a date.”

Your cheeks heat uncomfortably as you stand in the center of his living room, arms crossed over your chest. 

“Jungkook, listen. I’m—”

“Please,” he shakes his head as he sits down at the impressive gaming chair. “Save the apologies. I get it.”

“You don’t get it!” You say, exasperated. “You don’t get any of it! That’s why I’m here.”

Jungkook narrows a look at you then stands from his chair. Slowly, he makes his way towards you and stands inches from your face. The proximity of his bare, toned chest to your body makes your throat dry.

“No, you don’t get it.” His voice is threateningly quiet, completely different from his usual chipper tone. 

“Jungkook, I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” He quirks his head sarcastically, and you’re struck by the sharp lines of his jaw. “Sorry for running away from the date? Sorry for going on a date? Sorry for making me feel like I had a fucking chance when you kissed me?”

You swallow hard and open your mouth to reply, but he cuts you off.

“I’m sorry too. For giving myself way too much hope that this could ever be something. I’m sorry for myself for thinking you’d at least respect me enough to reject me politely.”

“You always had a chance!” You can feel tears building in your eyes and Jungkook feels his heart pound in his chest like a drum.

He scoffs, a harsh and mirthless laugh. “Clearly not.”

“I just—,” you start. “I never saw you like that before and suddenly you became everything I’ve ever dreamed of. It was like getting hit by a train, Kook! Suddenly my best friend turned into the man of my dreams.”

He shakes his head, stepping back away from you.

“I really find it hard to believe you,” he whispers. “I can’t let myself hope.”

“Jungkook, please,” you beg as tears start slipping down your face. “Please believe me.”

“Just leave,” he sighs. “I hate making you cry.”

You want so badly to wrap yourself in his arms, cry into his chest like you always do when you’re hurt. But you stand still, frozen in your shame and embarrassment of hurting your best friend so badly.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur, before you spin around as quickly as you can and leave Jungkook’s apartment in a flurry.

He watches as the door slams behind you, eyes full of sadness and regret. As much as he wants to believe you, have faith in every word you said, he can’t allow himself to get his hopes up again.

He can’t watch you run away from him again.

“Welcome back to Kookie’s Wild Weekly Walkthrough!” Jungkook cheers as enthusiastically as he can through his microphone. “The weekly segment where I react to your Minecraft worlds!”

Jungkook needed to dive back into streaming to take his mind off of you. He hasn’t left his apartment in days, only subsisting on takeout and coffee. At least he was making more money and his subscribers didn’t seem to mind the up-tick in content.

“Tonight I’ll be walking through a creation sent by,” he squints at the username. “‘Kookiesgal95’ Aww that’s cute.”  

He readies the content and starts his camera as he watches the YouTube link. His subscribers love his reaction videos—it’s a highly requested segment.

The video starts off easily, a generic Minecraft world that looks like a park.

“Hi Kook.”

The voice that reverberates through his headphones makes him pause the video quickly, wide-eyed with recognition.

It’s you. He’d know that voice from a million others. 

Shit. He’s going to have to edit so much of this clip. He’s staring at the screen as if he’s just seen a ghost.

Unsteadily, he clicks play again and watches as you lead him through your Minecraft creation.

“I wanted to recreate something for someone very special in my life.”

Jungkook doesn’t even bother to react to this anymore. This entire video is going to be worthless—there’s nothing he can say.

The video pans around the Minecraft setup and he can see what looks like handmade swings and merry go rounds.

“It took me a really long time to do this and an embarrassing amount of help from some twelve-year-olds on the internet.”

He laughs and is stunned by the wet tears rolling down his cheeks. He hadn’t realized he was crying.

“I re-created a park that is really special to my best friend and I.”

He feels his chest tighten and relax. The park. 

“This is the spot where he held me when my dog died when I was nine. I still miss that dog.”

The view is on a spot next to a blocky oak tree. Jungkook remembers that day, remembers your heartbroken sobs as he whispered words of comfort to you. He misses that dog, too. 

“This is where he and my brother got in a fight when we were eleven, because my brother called me a stupid-head. My best friend has always been protective of me, even from my own big brother.”

He can still remember pushing Namjoon around after hearing him call you names. He pushed Namjoon over and threatened to use his “big muscles” if he did it again.

The camera pans to an enormous structure, rather sloppily made, of a slide and monkey bars.

“This is where we first shared a joint in high school. I coughed a lung up and he ran down the street to a gas station at ten pm to get me a bottle of water even though I told him I was okay,”

The memory of the bewildered 7-11 employee plays through his mind. The man watched as a very stoned, very out of breath, Jungkook paid for a bottle of water in coins.

The video continues playing, moves towards what appears to be a parking lot made of cobblestone blocks.

“This is where he held me when my world fell apart.”

The break-up. The way you cried and cried and cried in his arms and he held you as if you were the only thing left on Earth. 

“This is where he reminded me I’m worthy of love, that I’m not broken. This is where he held me like I was delicate, but treated me like I was unbreakable.”

His tears don’t stop. Jungkook feels his heart thundering in his chest like a summer storm. 

He can hear your sniffles through the recording of the video—you were crying too. It pans around to the swing set.

“And this is where I’ll tell him everything, tonight. Where I’ll tell him how deeply I love him and how I want to make him the happiest guy in the world. In all of Minecraft and beyond. I hope he comes.”

Jungkook doesn’t even bother turning his camera off.

Instead, he’s running to change out of his three-day-old clothes and bolt out the door.

The creaky, rusty metal of the swing set is deafeningly loud in the silence of your park.

It’s dark, just a few street lights around to illuminate the perimeter, but it’s otherwise only lit by the moon.

It’s getting cold. You shiver in your hoodie and kick at the dirt under your swing. 

Maybe he didn’t see the video. Maybe he wasn’t going to show.

Maybe it was too late.

You spent hours working on the Minecraft world, staying up at all hours of the night to build and craft a poor re-creation of this park. The twelve-year-olds on Reddit had been invaluable and Namjoon definitely made fun of you for your creative assistants. But it had all been worth it. 

“Fuck,” you speak out loud to no one, as you try to warm your hands in the pockets of your sweater. “It’s cold.”

“You should have brought a jacket.”

The sudden voice from behind startles you. You hop off the swing and whip around to face  down the intruder.

Jungkook.

He looks so good. He’s wearing a thick coat and tight jeans. Your eyes take a delicious journey from head to toe.

He can’t help but preen at your blatant appreciation. He enjoys knowing you’re attracted to him, at least physically.

“You came.”

He nods and takes a nervous step towards you. He’s still far away, more than an arm's-reach away. You’re desperate to bring him closer, to pull him tight against your body and wrap yourself around him. You never want to be without his gentle touch again.

“I felt pretty compelled to come after you made all this in Minecraft for me.” He cracks a wry smile, a boy-ish grin that makes your heart flutter.

“It took me twenty-five hours and some teenagers to help.”

He laughs, a beautiful sound that warms you. “I’m sure they were ecstatic to help.”

You chew at the inside of your cheek, nervous at what he thinks about your in-game confession.

“Did you mean it?” He asks. He steps closer—one more step.

“Every word.”

His eyes are searching yours for the truth, desperately diving into the depths for validity.

“Why did you run away?” Another step.

You swallow hard, heavy tears brimming in your eyes.

“You went from being the silly best friend to being the person I could spend the rest of my life with. It all hit me. It’s always been you.”

One more step and now he’s just within your reach. If you stuck your hand out, your fingers would graze the soft puff of his coat, the delicate skin of his neck. 

“I’ve always felt that way about you. I never thought you’d feel the same.”

You smile softly, timidly. “It just took me a little while longer to realize it.”

All at once, Jungkook closes the gap and holds you gently by your cheeks. His thumbs wipe at the moisture under your eyes. 

“I promise to never make you cry again,” he whispers reverently. 

“And I promise to never run away from you again.” 

Jungkook smiles at that, cradling your face like you’re the most expensive and precious jewel. 

“Can I kiss you again?” He asks, somewhat unsure of himself. 

“I would like it if you would.”

As Jungkook presses his cold, plush lips to your own, you make a promise to yourself to never go a day without kissing him again. 

“I can’t believe you’re in my bedroom,” Jungkook murmurs as he kisses at your face. After the park, Jungkook loaded you into his priceless Nissan and scurried home. You could hardly keep your hands off him as he drove you back to his place—reaching and caressing the spots on his body you’re dying to become familiar with. 

“I’ve been in your bedroom before,” you remind him as he tugs up the hoodie you’re wearing. 

“God, don’t be so semantic when I’m trying to fuck you,” he says before throwing the hoodie to a corner of the room. “You know what I mean.”

Jungkook kisses you again, all lips and teeth and tongue. He kisses you like you’re the last breath of air, and he’s greedy for every bit. He grips your hips, not too tight, and brings your body against his. You can feel him grow in hardness in his too tight, and it feels like bliss. 

Teasingly, you grind your hips against his, making him shudder with desire.

“I want you,” he whines as he nibbles at your lip. 

“Really? I couldn’t tell.”

He opens his eyes to level a look at you, pulling his mouth away from yours. 

“You’re such a little smartass.”

His hands become feverish on your jeans, tugging apart the button and flicking down the fly. He pushes them down quickly, and you kick them off carelessly. 

He can’t stop looking at you in your bra and panties, standing at the foot of his bed. 

“Holy shit, okay, this is happening, right? Like, this is real?” 

You smirk, pleased with Jungkook’s obvious excitement. 

“Let me prove it’s not just a dream.” 

Softly, you spin Jungkook around and push him down to sit on his bed. He complies easily, eyes wide and excited. 

“If this is a dream, would you be able to feel this?” You ask as you unbuckle  his belt and open his jeans. He doesn’t reply, simply watches you as you tug his jeans down to his thighs. 

His cock strains hard against his tight boxers, and you run a teasing finger over the obvious bulge. 

“Oh fuck,” he breathes. 

“Feels pretty real, huh?”

“Y-yeah.” 

Your delicate hands gently tug at the waistband of his boxers and easily work them down enough to free the length of his cock. It springs out easily and your eyes widen at the impressive size. You assumed he would be at least average, but you’re looking at something definitely more. 

“Oh wow,” you whisper. “You’re fucking huge.” 

Jungkook grins. “All for you, baby.” The cockiness is palpable. 

One solid grip around him wipes the presumptuous smile off his face, replaced with a gasping, shuddering moan. 

“How about this? Not a dream?”

He struggles to find his voice, instead he’s gulping for air like a fish out of water. 

“That’s what I thought,” you whisper before settling into a position on your knees. “I’ll admit, I’ve dreamt about this too. I always felt so ashamed for dreaming about sucking my best friend's cock.”

You press soft kisses to the head of his length, teasing the sensitive areas at the tip before kissing up and down the length. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

His evident desire for you encourages you, and your tongue swipes at the crown of his tip and swirls around it gently. 

“Oh my god.” His eyes shutter closed and you trace the veins in his dick with your tongue. 

“This h-has to be a dreeeaaaaam,” he whines as you make an exceptionally long stripe with the flat of your tongue. 

You pull off for a moment, humming. He springs his eyes open and watches as you reach behind your back and unsnap your bra. Your breasts escape with a bounce and his eyes widen, nearly bulging out of their sockets. 

“What the fuck,” he whines. “You have the most amazing tits.”

He reaches out to grasp them and you slap them away playfully. 

“Not yet,” you smirk. “Still trying to convince you you’re not asleep.” 

He sucks in his breath and puts his hands back to the bed to steady himself, eyes never leaving yours (except to stare at the luscious curves of your body). 

Grasping your breasts in both hands, you smash them together lightly in an elaborate show of what Jungkook wants most. You lean over his body and place the throbbing thickness of his cock in between your tits, allowing him to feel just how soft and warm they are. 

“Shit!” He yelps, grabbing his sheets in a tight fist. “Are you really tit-fucking me right now?!”

Slowly, you lift your body up and down, allowing his cock to feel each stroke of your breasts. You nod at his question and continue to pump up and down. 

“Still dreaming?” 

He whines and shakes his head, already feeling so close to the edge. His cock is slick from your teasing licks and the pressure of your tits surrounding him had his mind spinning with desire. 

“Ahhh, I’m so fucking close,” he warns.

You continue, speeding up the friction and pressure of your strokes. 

“I want you to cum on me, Kook,” you whisper encouragingly. “Cum on my tits, please?”

Jungkook feels like he’s a wire about to snap, and your thick, sultry voice and incredibly perfect breasts are the snips that breaks him apart. 

“Oh, shit,” he grunts. “Gonna paint your titties white, baby.”

His moans echo around the walls of his bedroom, small gasps of pleasure and your name escaping his perfectly plump pout. 

His hot load splatters on your chest, and you stroke him through each pulse of his cock. You’re slippery with his seed now, and when you pull away from his spent length, you make a show of rubbing in his cum over your chest.

“Okay, definitely not dreaming,” he says in a daze as he watches you lift a wet finger to your mouth, popping it in to clean it off. “Who knew you were so fucking kinky?” 

His confidence grows as he catches his breath. He can’t believe he’s sitting on his bed with you on your knees, breasts covered in his load. You’re suckling the cum off your finger like it’s his cock, and he’s desperate for more.

“There are lots of things you don’t know about me,” you shrug. 

Swiftly, he grabs you gently by your bicep and pulls you close, sucking at your lips until you’re both standing. 

“I plan to find out everything.” 

Suddenly, you’re switching positions and Jungkook is pushing you down into the bed. You lay flat in the center, body relaxed and eager for your best friend.

“What are you doing?” You ask. He’s still standing at the end of the bed, watching you get comfortable. Once he’s satisfied that you’re lying exactly how you want, he settles himself by your feet.

“Worshipping you,” he says as he lifts an ankle and presses gentle kisses to your calf. “Showing you how much I adore you.” More kisses, soft and sweet. “Showing you how I plan on treating you for the rest of your life.” 

He takes his time, lavishing your legs with his mouth. He kisses and sucks at any spot, sexual or not. He mouths at the roundness of your knees, your firm hamstrings. He presses his love into the skin of your thighs, mouthing his praises with each kiss. 

He reaches the dip of your hips and he gently kisses your exposed skin as he tugs your cotton panties off you. 

“I have loved every inch of you since before I can remember,” he praises as his lips skim over the mound of your cunt. “And I don’t plan on stopping soon.” 

Your body feels like it’s on fire, as if Jungkook lights a match at every spot his lips press against. Your eyes close, and you allow Jungkook to continue his pious worship of your body. 

He teases around your folds, kissing your labia ever so gently—making you gasp. He doesn’t linger long, only kisses you enough to stir the licking flames of heat in your belly.  

He kisses at your stomach, gently nibbling and laving at the softness there. You try to hide from him, try to hide your insecurities of your body in his thorough exploration, but he moves your hands. 

“I know you don’t like this part of your body,” he murmurs. His voice is so soft, so pure and sincere. “But I do. I love everything about you.” 

His tongue swirls around your belly button, making you gasp at the ticklish sensation. 

“You’re so pretty. So perfect.” 

He continues upwards, lips now trailing to your full breasts. He takes his time there, licking and kissing and flicking at your nipples with his tongue. It feels exhilarating—Jungkook’s mouth feels like everything you want it to feel like. His tongue is warm, and he bites with just enough pressure to make your back arch off the bed into his embrace.

His hands explore, taking stock of every millimeter of skin he can find. He wants to memorize every freckle, every bump, every scar and line. Your body is his paradise, and all he can think of is you, you, you.

One hand travels down your body as he moves his lips up your neck. It snakes down your stomach and deftly slides over your soaked core. You whine as you feel his fingers part your folds and dip into the wetness.

“So wet,” he says out loud, verbalizing every tantalizing detail of your body. “So perfect.”

His lips are finally at your own and you kiss him passionately, tongue swirling around his as he slides his two fingers past your clit and into your drenched hole. You gasp against his mouth, eyes widening as he slowly scissors his fingers into you and pumps slowly. It’s almost teasing, the way he fucks his fingers in you. Slow, firm movements with his powerful hands.

“Jungkook!” You gasp. He doesn’t reply, instead he bites at your lip and tugs, then trails his hot mouth back down to your nipples. He can’t get enough of your breasts and the slightly salty taste of him still lingering.

“You feel so good,” he says as he speeds his fingers up minutely. “So tight and wet for me.”

Your hips writhe in need. He’s giving you what you need, but not enough. You need more, more. You want to feel him, all of him, spearing you open.

“Please, Kook,” you groan. “I need you.”

He laughs softly against your nipple and sucks extra hard, letting it pop out of his mouth audibly.

“And I need you, my love.”

“Fuck me, please.” You’re desperate, thighs quaking from the slow teasing. “I want you to fuck me, Jungkook.”

Chills shudder down Jungkook’s spine and he’s powerless to say no, not when you demand it so well.

“With pleasure,” he agrees. He pulls his fingers from within you and copies your move, sliding them into his mouth to suck your essence off. 

He’s never looked sexier. His eyes are dark chocolate pools of burning intensity, and you feel your breath become shaky as you watch him clean his fingers with precision.

After he’s deemed his fingers sufficiently clean, he settles himself between your legs. Easily, he lifts your hips and shoves a pillow underneath, elevating you to a more comfortable position. He grabs your legs and tosses each over his shoulders so they’re higher in the air. 

“I’m going to fuck you so good, baby,” he promises as he rubs the tip of his cock on your soppy slit. “Condom?”

You shake your head, appreciative of his question but desperate to feel him completely.

“Birth control. Regularly tested. Haven’t had sex in a while,” you blurt out. “You good?”

He nods in agreement. “Same. Well, except the birth control. But, I’d take it if they made it for men.”

“Jungkook!” You whine. Your best friend is so easily sidetracked. “Please, can you fuck me?”

He grins. “Tsk, someone is impatient.”

A low moan is rumbling in your chest as he continues to rub his thick cock at your entrance.

“I swear to god, you’re the biggest tease.”

“Oh, I’m definitely the biggest.”

Before you can react, he’s pushing past your entrance and sliding deep in your walls. Your position makes his cock feel deep, and he bottoms out and stills there, eyes closed in bliss.

“Holy shit,” he gasps. “This is absolutely the best pussy I’ve ever felt.”

You wiggle your hips as you get used to the sensation of the delicious stretch.

“Please don’t tell me how many pussies you’ve felt when you’re balls deep inside of me.”

Jungkook turns his head and kisses at your legs resting on his shoulders, lavishing them with his praise once more as he keeps his cock buried inside your tight heat.

“Yours is the only one that matters. The only pussy I’ll ever be in for the rest of my life.”

“That’s a good answer,” you smile. “Now, fuck me, lover boy.”

Jungkook winks and grips your hips with his hands. He swiftly pulls out, enamored with the way his cock is already covered in your creamy essence, then eagerly pushes back in. He sets a pace and soon the sound of skin clapping on skin echoes around the room.

“Oh god!” You’re moaning loudly, unabashedly. You’re thankful that Jungkook’s old roommate, Yoongi, moved out to live with his boyfriend Hoseok months ago. He’d definitely complain about the noise for months. “Fuck, Jungkook, you feel so good.”

Jungkook fucks into you with ferocity, speed and power gradually rising as he feels his core tighten with the coming anticipation of release.

“Mmm, you look so fucking sexy like this,” he murmurs. “Getting fucked by your best friend’s fat cock.”

He moves a hand from your hip, trails it up your body to squeeze at your breast, before he’s cupping your face once again. His hips snap against yours and he loves the way your mouth utters little squeaks and gasps with each deep thrust into you.

“God, my beautiful girl,” he groans. “Can’t wait to cum in this pussy, shit, you got me so fucking close.”

You open your mouth desperately and Jungkook easily slips his thumb in. You latch on quickly and suck, tongue swirling around the tip like you’re sucking another cock. It nearly sends him over the edge and the speed of his hips matches his desperate need for more.

“Fucking hell,” he bites back. He can feel his belly tighten, driven further and further to the edge by the constricting wetness of your cunt. 

He pulls his thumb out and moves it down to where his cock spears into you, allowing your spit to swirl with his thumb around your clit. Your core tightens around him at the added stimulation and your back arches up in ecstasy.

“I’m so c-close, Kook,” you plead, as if begging for mercy. “Please, I want to cum so bad.”

The speed of his thumb increases, and he watches as your face twists in pleasure and desperation. 

“Cum on my cock, baby, let me see you fall apart. Show me what I’ve dreamt of for so long.”

A high and wanton cry ripples out of your body as he savagely increases his speed, both his cock and thumb working overtime to drive you towards your end. The butterflies that erupt in your lower stomach make your moans louder, higher. You’re so close, closer than ever. It’s building to an incredible crescendo.

He can tell you’re close—he sees it on your face as your back arches and your fists grip his sheets.

“You look like a fucking angel, baby,” he whines as he soaks in the vision of you writhing underneath him. “I bet you cum like an angel, too. Let me see it, let me see.”

With just a few more swirls of his thumb and his deep, hard strokes, you’re soaring over the edge into a pool of nothingness. Your cunt pulsates wildly around his length, milking and stroking it with your tight walls. You throw your head back, moaning out his name at the top of his lungs, letting his neighbors know just who fucks you so well.

“Holy shit,” he gasps, hips stuttering as he fucks into your juicy hole. “That was so fucking sexy.”

You grip his forearms, holding onto him tight and encourage him to go harder. “Cum inside me, Kookie, please. I’m all yours, make me yours.”

His heart feels like it might burst in his chest. He’s always wanted you to say it to him, to hand over your love to him like he does so easily to you. It’s all so much, so overwhelming, and the feeling of your hot cunt still fluttering around him sends him reeling into his own completion. 

He spills into you, warm seed coating your walls and pooling inside your womb. He fucks himself through each throb of his cock until he’s sure he’s drained every ounce of himself into you.

Your legs slip off his shoulders easily, and he gently pulls himself out of you. He falls beside you, panting with exertion, and wraps an arm around you.

After a few silent moments of catching your breath, Jungkook pulls you in close to him until he can koala-cling to you, arms and legs both wrapped around your body.

“Mine,” he whispers as he kisses your head. “All mine.”

You return the favor, clinging to your best friend—boyfriend—like he’s your only lifeline.

“All yours.”

“So, you’re telling me, you got together because of Minecraft?” Jimin asks, pointing a fork in your direction. It’s been months now since your grand virtual declaration of love for Jungkook. Months of bliss and romance, laughter and companionship. 

You were right all along. Jungkook is everything you’ve wanted in a man and more.

You’re sitting at your brother’s expensive dinner table, enjoying a meal with his family with your boyfriend at your side.

“Yeah, Jimin, I guess that’s what I’m saying,” you retort as you roll your eyes. “Minecraft and Tinder.”

Baby Jisoo is awake and in your brother’s arms, but she’s whining and wiggling to leave him.

“What’s wrong, Soo?” Namjoon asks with a pout on his lips. “Why don’t you want daddy anymore?”

Jimin snorts at his husband and you hold out your arms for your baby niece. “Come here, baby, I know you want auntie.”

Namjoon dutifully hands over his daughter, sulking that he’s been picked over for his sister. 

You cradle the baby in your arms, expecting her to calm once she’s there, but she continues to fuss. She’s thrusting her arms out and nearly crying, reaching towards Jungkook who’s busy chowing down on Jimin’s homemade ramen.

“I think she wants you, Kook,” you murmur. He looks at you, then to the baby, then back to you, before he wipes his hands and face clean with a napkin.

“Oh, okay,” he whispers, slowly taking the baby from your arms with your help. “Hello, ma’am.”

Namjoon and Jimin laugh. “She’s a baby, Jungkook, not an elderly woman,” your brother teases.

Jungkook doesn’t listen. He’s too busy cooing at the baby in his arms and playing with her tiny hands. Namjoon turns his attention away and looks at you.

“Guess I won’t be the only provider of grandchildren for much longer.”

You playfully glare at him and turn away to watch your boyfriend. Watching Jungkook interact with your niece makes your heart swell, your soul sing. He’d be a perfect father.

“I swear, if he teaches her how to play Minecraft, he’s banned from the household,” Jimin grumbles. “This is a No-Nerd-Zone.”

Jungkook cradles the child and rocks back and forth, singing her a soft, made-up song, before he looks over at you.

“Hey, I want one of these,” he smiles. “Can we have one?”

You lay a hand on your stomach, a soft bump not quite visible yet. It’s only been one test, the lines faintly indicating ‘positive’ on the stick. You wanted to make sure, get confirmation before you spill the beans.

“Sure, Kookie.”

He grins and leans over to kiss you, before turning his attention back to the baby. “Okay, Jisoo, now let me tell you all about the Endermen.”

Jimin groans. “Oh my god, do not give Minecraft facts to my infant!”

tag list - @giadalin @nohayarcoirissintormenta @pjmislovely @xhazmania @marcoazam2 @eggbutnotyolk @feel-the-sunset @unicornbabylover @aretha170 @jeonmisha @hordanhearsawhooo 

© ppersonna - 2021 - do not repost on any site, or translate without express permission from author.

[saynotoshityouhate]

For Science Ch. 5

Ch. 1 // Ch. 2 // Ch. 3 // Ch. 4

Words: 1781

Tags: angst, love, neediness, bathtub sex, he’s too big but (spoiler) we make it work.

It had been three days. Three long, agonizing days since Bruce slammed the front door and ran away. Yesterday he sent a text, asking if he could come home. Seeing his name light up your screen made your heart jump, so happy to know he was safe and coming back to you. You responded with an enthusiastic yes.

He’d never left like this before - you’d never had a fight or had a moment where his emotions took over so badly. Of course you’d welcome him back, you’d never worried he would hurt you. Not anymore - not since he’d found this new happy medium between his two personas. Bruce clearly wasn’t as confident.

It was hard having him gone for those first few days of your new job at the university, and you’d wished he’d been there to laugh at some of the silly mistakes you had made. His bellowing chuckles were some of your favorite noises in the world.

Pulling up the driveway after classes were through, you saw Bruce’s car parked back in its normal place. Your stomach flipped, unsure what to expect, although you were mostly excited to see him.

You quietly opened the back door, walking into the kitchen. Taking off your heels, you heard soft, muffled classical music and smelled lavender and citrus. You smiled, heading straight to the master bath. The door was cracked open slightly, and you could see the warm glow of candles dancing across the shiny tile walls.

You knocked quietly on the door and pushed it open gently, just enough to stick your head inside. “Bruce?”

Bruce’s head was resting against the cool tile behind him, his eyes closed and his breathing regular. He must have just fallen asleep, his large frame filling most of the oversized jacuzzi tub. “Bruce?” You whispered again, awakening him from his dream. His warm eyes met yours, taking a moment to focus and register that you were really there. “Y/N, I -“ Bruce rested his hands on the side of the tub, beginning to push himself up to greet you. “No, no - stay there, you look so peaceful.” You nervously played with the hem of your untucked blouse.

“May I?” You lifted your hands to the top buttons of your blouse, pausing for Bruce’s approval. His adam’s apple bobbed in his throat as he nodded, adjusting his dark glasses up the bridge of his nose. You proceeded in unbuttoning your crisp white shirt, setting it off to the side. Your back was turned to the submerged Bruce, but you knew the slight shimmy of your hips as you stepped out of your skirt and panties would excite him.

You backed yourself over to the edge of the tub, presenting your back to Bruce. He loved unclasping your bra for you. He took pride in being able to do it with just a flick of his finger, and seeing the tension leave your back and shoulders filled him with warmth. You moved the straps down your shoulders and dropped it to the floor, reveling in the ease of domestic life with Bruce - even in this uncomfortable silence.

Lowering yourself into the bubbles across from him, you sighed. The last few days had been hard on you, you were worried about Bruce, had started your new job, and had been brainstorming on ways to reverse your boyfriend’s physical predicament. You stretched your legs out in front of you, resting them against Bruce’s thighs. He took one foot in his large hand, rubbing the arch with gentle pressure. Your eyes fluttered closed at the wonderful release.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry for how I reacted.” Bruce’s eyes were cast downwards in shame. “I was so upset with myself, I didn’t want to risk anything happening…” You interrupted him. “No, I overreacted. I shouldn’t have yelled at you. I’m just happy you’re back.” You poked him with your other foot, asking him to do the same magic there as well.

“Where did you go?” You asked timidly, not sure you really wanted to know the answer. “I just went to the tower - Tony left my room as-is…just in case.” You made a noise of acknowledgement, your fingers idly playing with the bubbles that adorned your chest.

“I never stopped thinking about you.” Bruce extended a hand, inviting you to come closer. You accepted, allowing him to pull you onto his lap. You wrapped your arms around his neck. “I was scared, Bruce.” He held your face in his hand, rubbing your cheek with his thumb. “I’m sorry. It’ll never happen again.”

You kissed him fiercely, as if you wanted him to stop talking before he gave any excuses or reasons to leave again. You couldn’t help the whimpers leaving your chest, three days was a long time for you two to be apart.

Bruce’s cock throbbed against you, eliciting a groan from the large man. “I missed you so much,” he mumbled, nipping and sucking at your neck and collar bone. Moving to straddle his waist, Bruce’s hands found your hips, helping hold you steady.

“I wanna try - I think I can do it - I wanna try.” You ground your hips against his hardening length, your breaths already ragged and uneven. You knew it would hurt, but you wanted to do this for him. You were certainly wet enough. “No, I don’t wanna hurt you, don’t-“

You had your mind made up. Your much smaller hand took Bruce’s from his waist, bringing it to your core. “Stretch me out, please. I need you.” He could never resist you. Slowly inserting one large digit, knuckle by knuckle, his eyes were trained on you, closely monitoring for any inkling of pain or discomfort. You were feeling nothing of the sort. Your head was thrown back, the stretch sending delicious shockwaves through your limbs.

“One more, please” you breathed. “Y/N, I-“ You shot him a look, like daggers from your irises. “One. More. Please.” Bruce sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. He adjusted his fingers, slowly adding a second, drawing a moan from deep inside you. “I think - I think I’m ready. Please - give it to me? Let me make you feel good. Please?”

“Baby, I’m not sure about this. Let’s just start here, you’re taking me so well, maybe next time, we gotta take it slow.” You whined, loudly, and bucked your hips down onto his two, thick fingers. The water of the tub splashed over the edge. “Don’t wan’ take it slow, Bruce. Wan’ you - your cock. Puhleeeaase, Bruce.”

“The minute anything starts to hurt, you have to tell me, okay? Promise?” You nodded your head vigorously before pulling him closer and kissing him in gratitude. Bruce slowly removed his digits, leaving you empty and clenching around nothing but the bath water.

Bruce’s eyes were dark with lust, but still maintained the warmth of his concern for you. He held your gaze as he aligned himself with your opening. Every millimeter seemed to take an hour, your breath hitching in your throat as you stretched further to accommodate him. Bruce held your hips tightly, trying to maintain control and composure as you took him so well. It had been years since he felt the velvety warmth of a woman around him.

Your fingers dug into his shoulders as he continued to move slowly and methodically. You focused on your breathing, in through your nose, out through your mouth - pushing out whines and whimpers along the way. You attempted to hide your face in the crook of his neck, but Bruce pushed you back, wanting to keep an eye on you. “You’re doing so well, my girl, look at you.”

Looking down, you expected to see that he had completely bottomed out inside you, but there was plenty more left to go. His hand held the base, not allowing you to go any further, if that was even possible. You smiled up at him, so proud of yourself, feeling so full.

Bruce’s heart swelled - and he could finally relax knowing you were okay…better than okay really. You began to rock your hips, exploring your body’s limits, feeling the push and pull of Bruce against your walls. It was worth the effort.

You established a comfortable rhythm, riding him slowly, but forcefully. The waves of now lukewarm water splashed around you, adding to the symphony of delicious noises you both were making - the feelings sending you both into nonverbal bliss. Bruce began to tense, and you weren’t far behind. The only one with a free hand, you reached down to access your clit, quickly sending shockwaves of pleasure ripping through you. You clenched down on Bruce’s girth as you climaxed, sending him over the edge with you. His guttural growl sent vibrations through your skin as he filled you up for the very first time. You collapsed into him, every muscle giving out from the pain and exertion.

Bruce held your weakened body in his arms, both of you exhausted beyond belief. The tub had turned cold and you began to shiver. Concerned, he held you tightly with one arm while he used the other to push himself out of the bath. You clung tightly to his neck as he walked you to the bedroom. Placing your down gently, he dried you off with a towel and handed you your robe to snuggle up into before returning to clean up the bathroom. Once you were dressed, you crawled back to the pillows aligned neatly on your bed and waited for Bruce to return.

Wrapped up in your fluffy robe, you nuzzled into Bruce’s chest. “Can I ask you a question?” Your fingers idly traced his chest, droplets of water still gripping the coarse hairs on his sternum. Bruce grunted in the affirmative, his eyelids were heavy the minute his head hit the pillow. “If you could, you know, switch back. Would you?”

Bruce hummed. “I mean, I’ve thought about it. Done some basic calculations, consulted with colleagues…but that was all before.”

“Before what?” You whispered, tipping your head to look up at him, his eyes still closed gently.

“Before you. Before our life together. Before I saw the way your eyes light up when I enter a room. You read about that sort of thing in books, right? But I never knew it was real. And me? Of all people? In this state?” You sat up, captivated by his words, tears welling up and blurring your vision. His eyes met yours, one hand tracing your spine, while the other held yours.

“So no. I’m not interested in changing back. I am Bruce Banner, I am the Hulk, and I love you.”

[i-try-to-write-stuff]

Stabbed Heart

Summary - What happens when you love King Steve Rogers but he sees you as merely a source of entertainment?

“What do you mean to marry you?” Steve Rogers echoed, his gaze rampant with cynicism as he abruptly cast aside the financial account details he had been studying.

“Why would I want to marry you?”

Your hand was shaking. Hastily you set down the teacup, your courage plummeting fast.

“I just wondered if you ever thought of it.” Your restless hands fiddling with your dress. You were afraid to meet his eyes.

“I was just thinking about it.”

“Why?” he prompted softly.

“You are happy just the way you are.”

You didn’t want to think about what Steve really thought of you. Of all the emotions you felt about this relationship with Steve, satisfaction was not one of the emotions. From the beginning, you had loved him passionately, irrevocably, and you knew deep down in your heart, you were more invested in the relationship than

Steve, you could never be his equal.

For the last four years, you have oscillated between bliss and hopelessness. This beautiful, expensive castle was your prison. Not his. You were in a gilded cage for King Steve Rogers's pleasure. In reality, you were caged by your love for him.

You stole a nervous glance at him. His light cadence had been deceptive. Steve Rogers was silently boiling with anger. His anger for a scapegoat, an imaginary human, someone who gave you these ideas, corrupted your mind with ideas way above your station.

“Y/N,” he pushed irritably. Your nails pressing into your palm because of all the nervous energy in the room. You were on thin ice, something Steve didn’t like.

“I have been thinking about it... I still want an answer,” you gambled, you lied, you didn’t really want that answer, and you certainly didn’t want to hear it.

Steve Rogers looked forbidding, as hostile as if stabbed by a dagger from his loyal soldiers.

“You don’t have the background or the education that I require in my wife. There, I said it,” he delivered callously with the decisive tone which made his name as much feared and respected in the Brooklyn kingdom and world.

Whatever little bit of hope was present in you drained from your body. You flinched from the ruthless honesty that you had asked for, you felt utterly humiliated realizing that you had, after all, cherished a minuscule, flimsy optimism that deep down inside he might feel differently. Your soft eyes filled up with tears, you shied away from looking into his eyes.

After breaking you from the inside, he continued.

“This isn’t our usual morning time conversation before breaking the fast,” he murmured mischievously, but you could read it easily, it was a reprimand for your brazen act.

“Why do you want a relationship which will burden you? As your lover and companion, I am far less difficult than I would be as a husband.”

You wanted to laugh, but your bubbling emotions let your tears pour down your face, thankfully you turned around. You rubbed your face vigorously to wipe off any traces of your real emotions… Steve closed the distance between you two, his front touching your back, kissing your neck softly, you knew Steve Rogers was distracting you, your back stiffened trying everything in your every power to trying not to feel anything after the painful disappointment.

Steve sighed, he shrugged back his handspun silk overshirt. A chamber servant knocked and he frowned.

“You’ll be late for counsel,” You said it for him, for the very first time glad for his departure which usually ripped you apart.

Steve Rogers started moving in another direction.

“You seem very worried this morning. Is something wrong?”

How could you forget what was actually weighing on you? You had intentionally saved that question for the last. You didn’t want to spoil the last few hours you would ever spend together.

“No... everything is fine?” Turning around you smiled tightly, looking him in the eyes and lying about the storms plaguing your heart. But being with him had taught you the art of deceit and dodging.

“I don’t believe that; you didn’t sleep last night, you were tossing and turning all night long.” You stilled. He sauntered back to you, he hugged you, his big muscular arms wrapping you in a faux sense of security.

“Are you worried about your security? I can add more guards outside the castle and increase your security detail.”

You melted into his embrace, his muscular, and extremely fit body against yours. He lovingly traced your cheek.

“Someday we will go our separate ways,” he predicted in a seasoned tinge.

“But that day is very far away.” Did he not know what he did to you when he said things like that? He must use the same way to keep his court in line. He was murmuring something smooth about trade sanctions and crops yield but you refused to listen to it. Happily trying to soak up the moment. You wanted to shout through the roof, to get him to listen, ‘You can’t buy love, King Steve Rogers of Brooklyn…

Although his appetite for your body remained, you knew only so much time left, till he’ll get bored and take another lover, you’ll be yesterday’s trash. You no longer believed the desire, the passion that you had once naively translated as an emotion of pure love. You were nothing but entertainment for His Highness for several days a month. Steve had not even guessed that the past weeks had been complete hell for you, proved the triviality of the bond for him. Your fantasy bubble had popped and you had started building against reality four years ago. He didn’t love you. He hadn’t realized that he couldn’t live without you…and he never would.

“You’ll be late,” you whispered rigidly, unsettled by his scrutiny. Steve decided to leave, he didn’t usually linger to observe you. He licked his lips to kiss you again, but your guilty conscience wouldn’t let you, you pulled yourself free before he could kiss you.

“I’m not feeling well,” you muttered an excuse.

“Why didn’t you tell me? You should lie down.” He swept you up easily in his arms, and settle you down on the unmade bed.

He hovered, revealing a rare unease.

“If this is another result of one of those foolish diets of yours that some lady suggested, I order you to quit it. Don’t you get it? I like you as you are. Why do you want to make yourself ill, Y/N?”

“No,” you replied tautly.

“I will send for the doctor or you go see the doctor today,” he instructed. “If you don’t, I’ll know about it. I’ll mention it to John on my way out.”

Evidently, the security guards were for your protection but more often than not, you suspected, they were there to police your every move.

John’s expressionless disinterest and stiffness intimidated you.

[sailorhyunjinz]

𝕴𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝕷𝖔𝖘𝖙 𝕾𝖔𝖚𝖑𝖘 𝐈

© 2021 SailorHyunjinz ALL RIGHTS RESERVED 

Pairing; Bartender!Changbin x Fem!reader (she/her pronouns)

Warning ; ANGST!! SMUT!! skz side characters, semi-slow burn, hurt/comfort, strangers to lovers, depiction of mental disorders, consumption of alcohol, under the influence, self hatred, complicated family relationships, depersonalisation/derealisation, depression, alternative universe, implications of su-cide, semi su-cide attempt, su-cidal!reader, mentions of bl-od and injury, mentions of k-dnapping and murder, alcoholism, mentions of selfh-rm, mentions of knifes, gaslighting, smoking, mentions of weapons, mentions of pregnancies, a bunch of crying, fainting, toxic masculinity. 

𝘕𝘚𝘍𝘞 ; piv, protected sex (use of condom), missionary, dry humping, nicknames, sex in semi-public place, fingering, corruption kink if you squint, orgasm (m/f), cum,,,, other then that it’s kinda vanilla. 

𝘞𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘊𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵 ; 14.3 k 

O N E ｜ T W O 

From one survivor to another; cheers you guys. 

                         ⊱ ────── {⋅. ♪ Playlist ♪ .⋅} ────── ⊰

[FEEL SOMETHING DIFFERENT - Bea Miller, Aminè]

[Multi-Love - Unknown Mortal Orchestra]

[Beach Baby - Bon Iver]

[High Enough - K.Flay]

[Dope Lovers - DPR IAN]

[Make Out in My Car ; Sufjan Stevens Version - Sufjan Stevens]

[I Feel it Coming ; The weekend, Daft Punk]

[Space Song ; Beach House] (ah the loml and the album is called depression cherry so it makes me happy) 

𝘊𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥.

𝘗𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘰𝘧 18.

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐈 ; 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐲

“Let me out!! LET ME OUT!”

You cry out, banging on the heavy wooden door until your knuckles bruise, red marks leaving their traces on your soft skin. The only lightsource is the tiny cell window, sun shining brightly and illuminating thousands of dust specks, floating around you like your lost hopes. The grey cement walls got closer and closer, seconds ticking in your head like a clock. 

This is it.

This is how you die. 

Crushed to death like a bug, your ambitions never getting their chance to prove themselves. All that you ever wanted to achieve was an impossibility as you were slowly but surely pressed together in the ever shrinking room. 

Salty tears roll down your cheek, a feeling of hopelessness washing over you as you turn your back against the door, sliding down to your feet, banging the back of your head lightly against the entrance.

You feel the rough walls hitting both sides of your forearms, a last ear deafening scream leaving your parted lips.

Until you woke up. 

With a series of jerking motions you sit up, panting like you just ran a marathon, the pounding of your heart audible to you. Darkness swallowed you as the night progressed, you considering yourself lucky to find yourself in your comfortable bed, still in your room. 

Only after minutes do you notice your wet cheeks, the tears not being limited to your dream world. You blink, your coated eyelashes weighing heavy on your eyelids as you wipe tears with the back of your hand. The shock from your dream didn’t reside, you now being too afraid to fall back on your plushy pillow, fearful of what horrible dreams awaited you on the other side. 

You grab your phone from the nightstand, immediately being hit with a bright light causing you to squint and turn away momentarily. 

[Search: being crushed dream meaning]

Multiple articles from all sorts of sketchy websites popped up, you clicking on the first one. 

“Stress or emotionally overwhelmed” 

You laugh lazily, the dream making sense as you feel yourself slipping back into a peaceful slumber, phone still in hand as the muscles in your face relax, jaw opening, your dream world once again inviting you for a dance. 

The sun woke you up with it’s radiant rays shining in your face, the closed blinds barely able to withstand them. Your phone was lying on the floor face down, you must have dropped it while sleeping you thought before rubbing your eyes from any dirt and staring up at the ceiling. 

Another day

Another day that I’m here.

You wish you could pull the covers over your head, get lost in your own mind and never deal with the outside world ever again. But you had to. 

You picked up your phone from the dusty floor that hadn’t been cleaned for weeks, you simply didn’t have the motivation to do it. The bright phone screen awaked you, you blinked your eyes a couple of times to see clearer. 

[3 Missed Calls - Mom]

You couldn’t be bothered to call her back. She was only gonna nag at you for not calling back earlier, wondering what you’ve been up to now that you’ve been fired from your job as a receptionist at the local hotel. What were you gonna say? Drinking too much booze and crying yourself to sleep every night? You couldn’t, that would only hurt her. 

Ignorance is bliss, as they say.

You got up, legs wobbling as you stumbled to the bathroom, head pounding from the amount of alcohol you consumed the night prior. Not with friends but alone, in your living room, in the one room apartment you no longer could afford. 

Ice cold water splashed onto your sweaty face, that being the only hygiene you could muster today. You turned the tap off, grabbing a towel and wiping your face and looking deep into your own eyes. 

That’s not me.

That’s not me looking back. 

You poked your tongue out, hoping the figure in the mirror wouldn’t move and you could confirm your thoughts but alas the figure followed you. You felt crazy, it was as if you’ve died a long time ago but still saw everything that happened. You could stick your hand through a wall and it would disappear you thought, nothing was real. Not even you. 

You entered your mess of a living room, seeing the wreck from yesterday night. Countless green glass bottles scattered on the table in front of the tv that was your only escape from reality. Blankets and pillows were thrown across the floor along with a box of tissues, your emotions bubbling up to the surface too often resulting in you crying and shaking on the floor, a feeling of fear washing over you late at night. 

You felt alone.

But you weren’t.

Fuck, why were you so ungrateful? You had everything. A roof over your head, a family that loves you, friends, food on the table. Yet, even this couldn’t satisfy you. You blamed yourself for everything. 

For your work firing you.

For your parents divorcing.

For your own pathetic life.

You shook your head as if you were shaking the negative thoughts out of your head, instead grabbing a couple of the empty bottles that were reeking with the scent of liquor and placing them on the kitchen counter. ‘Cleaning up’ in your eyes.

With a thump your back landed against the couch that swallowed you, engulfing you in a comforting embrace you got from no other person or object. This was your safe space you thought but not even your couch could save you from your intrusive reasonings. With a light click on the remote the tv screen lit up, your eyes still not used to the brightness since you’re always cooped up in your apartment where the blinds were always closed, another barrier between you and reality. 

Nature documentaries, your favorite.

The calming male voice of the narrator being the only one you talked to during your lonely days. The animals could make you forget. They lived so freely, moving wherever they wanted without a care in the world, either swimming, hopping or flying. You wish you were born as another animal than human. 

“The 52-hertz whale travels an astonishing 70 km a day but it’s voyage doesn’t bring social interactions. This whale is the loneliest whale in the world. It’s the only whale that is capable of emitting a whale call at such frequency, no other individuals communicating with the poor creature.”

You sat up in curiosity. It was a scream for help you thought. The whale needed help, it needed someone or something.

Just like you. 

You sighed, watching the lonely whale on your tv screen, seeing it’s gracious movements despite its size. It did look lonely in that deep dark sea, wondering how it would be to fall into the abyss of water, swallowing you whole and erasing the life that once sparked your soul. 

This was where you spent your entire days. The clock on the wall is ticking but the digits it displayed are oblivious to you. What did it matter if it was 5 pm or 1 am? You were still not gonna budge from your comforting seat on the couch. Drinking your feelings away no matter what time in the day. 

This was you. 

This was who you had become.

The sun started to set on the horizon, a delicate shade of light purple descending over it, covering the end of the world like the way a canopy covers the softness of a bed. You sigh, diverting your focus back on the tv screen after momentarily observing the life outside your window. Yet again, nature documentaries accompanied by the soft male voice, narrating every movement of the colibri that fluttered it’s wings at the speed of light on your screen in vivid colors. 

You got that look in your eyes. That look of amazement which you now only had when looking at the beautiful colors of a exotic bird. You moved closer to the tv screen in the now dark living room, the sun setting at a fast pace. It reminded you of the many times your mom shouted at you to not sit so close to the screen, scaring you by saying that you’d get rectangular eyes. 

Your childhood.

The only time you felt ease. 

The only time your family was as one. 

“y/n, what does your heart look like?” the therapist asked, scribbling mindlessly on a notepad.

“it’s a muscle that pumps blo-” you started but were quickly cut off. 

“no, I mean what does your heart look like, how does it feel?”

You sighed, looking down at the grey marbled floor, your legs shaking in nervousness. You hesitated before speaking, scrambling in your mind to say something sensible before the words came pouring out of you.

“i-it looks like a house. A dark, empty house,,, but it’s comforting.”

Once again you heard the sound of a pencil writing incoherent sentences. Curious as to know what secrets were on that piece of A5-paper.  

“is there anyone in the house with you?” the therapist inquired. 

You shook your head before speaking. 

“I don’t want to let anyone in, this is my safe space” you say, almost setting up an emotional barrier, not wanting to answer further questions. 

The person sitting across from you hummed as you stared out the window behind them, the green ivy bushes already grown tall enough to cover half of the grimy window. 

“is the house empty?” they asked to which you shook your head once again, avoiding the glassy-eyed stare of the therapist. 

“no,,, there are dusty furniture covered in white cloths and-,,, and family photos in the drawers.” 

“is it your family?” 

You shook your head in disagreement.

“How did you end up here?” 

You thought for a second, puffing out your cheeks, a habit of yours. You searched for a reason but not finding any. 

“I just,,, was here one day.”

“The sun never shines here.” you added after a solid 30 seconds of silence. 

You were stuck in that house.

The house that was once filled with happy memories of another family, you simply a ghost that was now trying to fit the broken pieces together, wanting desperately to see them smiling again. 

Tears started forming in your eyes, a shiny gloss over your orbs. 

But you never cried.

Not in front of others. 

You thought often about that visit. Why your heart was an desolate house and why the words spilled out of you like a poisonous liquid.

You closed your eyes, the bright colors fluttering behind your eyelids as the comforting sounds of the woods blasted from the tv. 

You wish you could be somewhere else. 

Anywhere but here. 

A single tear rolled down your cheek as a smile creeped up on your face, your butt against the floor as your knees were underneath your chin, your entire figure curled up into a small ball. 

You sighed as your eyes fluttered open again. You were still here, in your apartment that smelled like nothing but alcohol and disappointment. 

Firmly planting both your hands on the wooden floor you heaved yourself up with the intention of getting more tissues, the blue colored tissue box on the floor being as empty as others expectations of you. 

But as you stood up the entire room started spinning, small specks of rainbow flashing by your eyes. You thought you stood up to quickly grabbing onto the wall for a second before collapsing against it, your entire body shaking. You cried louder, thinking you were about to pass out. Your hair stuck to your tear stained cheek as your puffy eyes closed once again. 

What was happening?

The rain hit your unconscious body, your knees scraped from the concrete you lied on. You were soaked from head to toe, lying with your cheek against the ground in a puddle of rain. You woke up from your head pounding, your bloody knees only gaining your attention after you’ve looked around in a confused daze.

It was empty. An alleyway in the dark night. You found yourself panicked, anxiety bubbling inside of you. That’s when you saw it. A single street light above a red phone booth. You tried to stand up but fell over again as your legs could barely hold you up, now scraping your elbow against the gritty ground. 

Crying out, you started shouting for help. 

“HELP!! SOMEBODY HELP!” 

You screamed at the top of your lungs, voice cracking as your tears started to look identical to the rain that was pouring over your cold, helpless body. Nobody came, your voice only echoing against the wall that the phone booth stood near to. 

You got on all fours, crawling towards the light as pure pain shot through your body, small pebbles jabbing into the open wounds on your knees. You needed shield from the rain. Desperate huffs and groans escaping your parted lips as you dragged yourself through small puddles, the phonebooth seemingly getting further and further away from you. Looking through the soaked curtains that was your hair you were determined, this was life or death you thought as you continued to shout out for help, it appeared to be useless since the only other sound besides your own voice was the rain hitting the ground. 

Shivering hands grabbed onto the corner of the crimson red phonebooth, the streetlight illuminating your teary eyes. You held onto that frigid and wet piece of metal as if you were holding onto a treasure. 

As if you won a race.

As if you pleased your parents.

You looked up, dragging the inner side of your leg against the concrete, your pyjama pants wet to the bone. Desperately you got yourself together, your arms shaking as the rough pads of your hands met the ground, pushing yourself up into a standing position. You hissed at the pain in your knees as you grabbed onto the metal handle that opened the phonebooth, stepping inside.

The inside was surprisingly warm, as if someone had been there moments prior. A ripped piece of paper was taped on the glass pane to the right of the payphone, something that seemed like a phone number but could impossibly be since it wasn’t a full number. 

[1800-xxx]

You looked at the payphone and then back at the washed out paper, the edges of the note curling and stained with yellow. Only when you looked back at the phone again did you notice the keypad. To your surprise there was an “x” button. Your head felt heavy, deciding to lean it against the other side of the stuffy phone booth, your hot breath creating steam on the glass.

You wanted to wake up from this nightmare. 

Your entire body ached, let alone the blood that was dripping down your leg. The rusty payphone connected to the actual phone, a black handle connected to the underside of the machinery by a coiled metal rope. You picked up the phone, putting it against your ear and groaned when you remembered that you needed coins in order for the payphone to work

[0.5 gold/minute] 

You rubbed your eyes. Gold? You sighed loudly, your knees barely being able to hold your weary body any longer. Hesitant fingers pressed the number that was jot down on the lined note, pressing each key accordingly. You pressed the last x before you pressed the “call” button, not expecting anything to happen. 

But after a few seconds a female automated voice spoke to you. 

“Thank you for calling. This place only appears to the suffering. If you are receiving this call, congratulations! Your prayers have been answered. Drink the liquid in the paper cup above this payphone. Drink the liquid. Drink the liquid. Drink the liquid.”

The voice lagged, a static sound accompanying the automated voice. Your breath got shaky as you looked around, holding the phone close to your ear with both hands. This could only be some sort of kidnapping scheme or this was a sick dream. 

“It’s a dream, y/n. Calm down, nothing's gonna hurt you.”

You muttered to yourself, pinching your forearm tightly and wincing from pain. This wasn’t a dream after all. 

Your gaze landed on the brown paper cup that was balancing delicately on top of the payphone, your cracking knuckles reaching for it as you let the phone fall out of your grasp, being caught mere inches from the sticky floor of the photobooth by the coil. Bringing the cup closer to your face you saw a dark viscous liquid that smelled sweet enough to sting your nose. Your face contorted into disgust, debating on whether not to drink the contents of the paper cup. 

“Drink the liquid. Drink the liquid. Drink the liquid.”

The voice continued ringing in your ears. You had nothing to lose. If you died then you at least got what you wanted. Holding your breath, you brought the cup closer to your quivering lips, parting them slightly as you held your nose tightly, not wanting to feel whatever horrible taste could be found in that dark pit of goo. 

It burned the moment it hit the delicate taste buds on your tongue, your voice muffled as the fluid descended down your throat, your larynx bobbing up and down with each gulp. Despite covering your nose you could taste the pungent sweetness, it tasted like pure acid. Not that you knew what that tasted like but what you assumed it would. 

You coughed, accidentally spilling some of the goo on the floor, dribbling out of your mouth. The heavy rain pitter-pattered against the metal roof above your head, your eyelids threatening to shut. The cup fell out of your hand as you slammed your forehead against the payphone, not hard enough to bleed but hard enough to bruise. Your jawbone hurt from how much you’d been crying, eyes puffy as the salty tears mixed with the rain droplets on your face.

“i-i’m sorry mom, i’m so fucking sorry.”

You rolled your forehead left to right against the rusty material of the payphone, your soaked hair covering your empty eyes. Your knees bent under you causing you to fall on your butt with your knees clinking against each other, the sticky contents on the floor sticking to the soft fabric of your pants. 

“I’M SO SORRY!”

You never thought a scream this loud could protrude its way out of your throat, the vibrations bouncing off the glass that to your surprise didn’t break. Everything started to become shades darker, almost as if a black and white filter settled over your vision. 

No, this is how you’re gonna die.

Alone.

In the rain. 

“Hyung, what are you gonna do with her?”

Muffled club music struck your ear along with a high pitched ringing, your eyelids felt as heavy as they’d been in the phonebooth. With your head pounding you slowly open your eyes, first not seeing anything but darkness before eight unknown men form a circle around you, hovering above you. 

You shoot up from your lying position, fear overtaking your body. Where were you but more importantly why the fuck were you alone in a dark room with 8 young men? Not thinking straight, you decided to scream once again, thinking they would back off and let you be.

“Get away from me!!”

The males covered their ears, groaning in pain and a blonde boy throwing himself on the floor, rolling around. 

“HEY!! HEY! WE’RE NOT GONNA HURT YOU!”

A strong voice overpowered yours, every word almost sounding like a grunt. You around, seeing that you were sitting on a soft leather couch before looking up at the male that was standing right infront of you. He was muscular, his biceps sitting snugly in the tight black t-shirt that covered him, a grey apron tied around his waist and his dark hair shielding his intense gaze and furrowed eyebrows. He had a jaw so sharp you could cut silence with it but silence was the last thing this room had. The boys were shouting at each other, trying to hush the others while screaming themselves. 

“SHUT UP!!”

The room got quiet as the muscular guy roared, the seven other individuals coming to a halt. You looked at them all with a puzzled expression, all of them handsome, a fact you couldn’t deny. 

“Where the fuck am I, who are you guys and p-please don’t kill me”

Your voice cracked at the end of your sentence as your eyes twinkled, tears teasing the corners of your eyes, fingers shaking in fear. The male closest to you sat down, the weight of the couch shifting. He rubbed his hand together before he started speaking in a calmer voice.

“I’m Changbin, bartender of the Lost Souls nightclub. That’s Chan, security guard.”

With his chin, he pointed at a guy in ripped black jeans with a white t-shirt, a sweatband across his forehead, pushing his slightly curly hair back. He didn’t look like a security guard, the only thing that might have pointed to that was the walkie-talkie hanging from his belt. You nodded before Changbin continued.

“And those are some friends, frequent visitors if you will.”

A light haired boy with shiny rhinestones under his eyes stepped forward after he’d been hugging the tallest guy in the room the entire time. 

“u-uhm, the name’s Felix! This is Hyunjin, Seungmin, Jeongin, Jisung and Minho, and yeah those two, Chan and Changbin.”

He pointed at each guy respectively and the room filled with small “hi’s” and smiles. They didn’t look threatening, all of them being very timid and looking down at the ground. Your gaze diverted back to Changbin that was staring at you the entire time.

“Can somebody tell me where I am?”

Changbin cleared his throat, stomping his boot a couple of times. 

“This is gonna sound,,, interesting but you have to believe me-”

You interrupted the muscular boy, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear, noticing that it had dried. 

“Why should I believe you? We’ve just met?”

Changbin sighed. 

“Just,,, hear me out”. You nodded before he continued.

“You answered a phone call right?”

Nodding once again your gaze drifted towards the other boys that were looking at Changbin with googly eyes.

“Well,,, this place only appears to those who are,,, struggling with themselves. Obviously you don’t have to tell us why you’re here but,,, this is a place to let go. The only rule here is no fighting”

“Or dancing on the tables” the tall blonde boy added with a snark causing a squirrel-like boy to giggle, playfully hitting the blonde before looking at Chan who glared back at him, the boy being flustered and turning serious again. Jisung, his name was. 

“W-what did that phonebooth do,,, does everyone go through that?” you asked with a curious tone.

“Usually it’s a pleasant experience going in that phonebooth, the sun shining and people hanging around that alleyway before taking the phonecall and drinking the elixir,,, there must have been a glitch in the system.”

He sounded unsure, scratching the back of his head as he looked at all of the boys. 

“System? What system? I’m dreaming, right?” you said in panic, wanting to get out of this oddly suffocating room. 

“W-we are real and you’re not dreaming,,, it’s just that, we can’t meet in real life you know? This is a place to,,, let oneself go and I know it’s scary since you only get here randomly, it must have been hard passing out like that,,”

A boy with fluffy light brown hair and a pretty eye smile said, Seungmin! You remembered his name because you thought it fitted him, sounding both soft and sharp at the same time. 

“y-yeah,,, it was scary b-but thank you for caring about me” you said with a half smile

“oh! and also, we treated all your wounds, luckily you were passed out so you couldn’t feel the pain but let me tell you,,, it looked awful, I don’t understand how you did that Chan” Jisung remarked with wide eyes, looking at you concerned before turning to Chan.

“Did what?” you inquired to which Jisung responded.

“Removing the pebbles in your wounds, h-how did you even get those in there?” he asked to which you tried to remember, seeing hazed memories of you crawling on the asphalt in the storming rain.

“I was crawling towards the phone booth'' you said quietly as the boys gazed at you with concern. The atmosphere got dusked and in an attempt to lift the mood you cleared your throat, lightly running your hands over the bandaids that were plastered on your scraped knees, wincing from the contact. 

Changbin made eye contact with Chan, jerking his head towards the door to signal for him and the other boys to leave the room. Chan nodded and patted Jeongin on the shoulder, trying to scoot all the boys out of the room like a shepherd leading a bunch of silent sheep.

“Let’s have some fun! Drinks on me boys~” Chan exclaimed to get the boys off their worried thoughts about you, the curly haired male closed the door quietly and both you and Changbin stayed silent until the footsteps were faint on the other side of the black wooden door. 

“Is this better?” Changbin said with a slight smile at the end. “They can be quite the bunch sometimes, either they’re very much off the deep end or they’re just a rowdy mess” he laughs, looking out in the distance before he looks at you with your knees under your chin, holding your legs close to your body.

“So,,, we’re all here for similar reasons?” you mumbled, holding your gaze stable on his dark eyes.

“yeah,,, pretty much. We’ve all dealt with something mentally draining and of course you don’t have to tell but I just want you to know that nothing will hurt you here.” Changbin replied. 

“I do want to tell,,, but it’s just that I don’t want to be alone about it. I’ve never been around people that have shared the same experiences.”

Changbin slid closer to you on the couch, putting one leg over the other. 

“It’s like that for,,, almost every single individual in the club, we all want to tell our stories and this is the place to do it. No one is gonna judge you for it. I remember thinking that when I first got here, ‘everyone is gonna judge me for not drinking’.”

Changbin’s last sentence caught your attention.

“but aren’t you the bartender? shouldn’t you know all the,,, liquors and such?”

Changbin sighed and you regretted you sentence, thinking that maybe you asked a too personal question. 

“I do know them but not in the way one should.” 

Something clicked in your head when the boy uttered those words. You nodded silently, letting your gaze fall to your wounded knees as your shaky voice spoke;

“So do I” 

Changbin’s gaze was fixated on the floor as he shared what was on his mind. 

“But no one judged me,,, eh,,, I never asked for your name!” the boy said to which you giggled, reassuring Changbin that you were in a stable state.

“It’s y/n, nice to meet you!” you said, stretching your hand forward to shake his. Changbin smiled towards your gesture.

“pretty name, angel” he said, shaking your hand and noticing how small it was in his grasp, the cold metal of his rings contrasting to your now warm hands. He didn’t let go immediately, instead holding your hand and feeling it’s warm temperature, running his thumb across your knuckles softly. You snarked at his comment.

“angel? didn’t know we had established pet names for each other in barely 10 minutes of meeting.” 

“and I didn’t know angels landed in this place” he said back. “i’ve had to deal with 7 annoying boys that never listen to me,,, well, 8 but one of them,,, disappeared.”

You nodded, not wanting to overstep any boundaries by asking about that 8th guy incase it was an emotional topic. 

“how is it? working with alcohol despite having quite a rocky relationship to it?”

The buff boy hummed, drumming his fingers on the seat next to him. 

“It’s better than one might think. I get to be around it without engaging in the activity myself, simply serving clients and the boys  already know it, we look out for each other. Like a family you know!” Changbin said with a happy tone, not wanting the conversation to get you in a bad mood after all you’ve been through that night.

“family,,, could use one of those” you joked and Changbin actually laughed which you’ve never felt with anyone before, the only response you usually got was your therapist writing down your self deprecating jokes with their orange lead pencil.

“you’re always welcome to us” he said, letting go of your hand that now felt empty. You felt safe. There was no way of describing it but you felt this caring aura around this man, drawing you closer to him. 

“how long does this last? i’m guessing you go back to ‘the real world’ again at some point” you spoke, making quotation marks with your hands.

“it depends, it’s different every time but you will pass out just like you did when you got here but you won’t go back to the phone booth, you’ll wake up where you were last in real life. Time goes on in the real world but here,,, clocks don’t really work. We’ve tried bringing clocks or phones with us but the digits don’t change.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. This had to be a dream. 

“w-whats with the gold on the phone? Does money exist in this,,, universe?” you asked with confusion to which Changbin shook his head.

“no, drinks are free and so are the phone calls, i have no idea why the phone booth says that or why Chan said that drinks are on him, he must have been stressed trying to get the boys out of here” Changbin said to which you giggled.

“i-is there any time where you never return?” you asked, earning a bittersweet smile from the male.

“yeah,,, if those issues you have get resolved but,, that rarely happens. Destructive behaviours feed of each other. Get rid of one and it gets replaced with another.”

You recognised that. It was always something, you could never live in peace without feeling the need to self sabotage. 

“Poor innie knows that too well” he added with an acerbic tone. 

“innie?” you tilted your head in question, gazing around the dark room that was rather empty, only a couple of dark colored shelves on the wall and the couch you were sitting on along with the ceiling lamp that was stingy with it’s light.

“Jeongin, the youngest among us. Poor boy has been through it all, if it’s not drugs it’s self harm and Minho is a real dick sometimes, bringing pocket knives in “defense”. He’s delusional, thinking everyone is out to get him and Jeongin knows this. We’ve found our precious little boy in the bathroom too many times, holding those stupid knifes Minho keeps having on him and crying till his cheeks puff up.”

You took a mental note to keep your distance from Minho, feeling bad for Changbin that had to be amidst this mess while dealing with his own emotions. You could relate, being the emotional pillar between your parents that hated each other to the brink of physical violence. There’s always someone that has to suffer because of other people's problems. 

“I’m so sorry to hear that, Changbin.” you managed to stutter out, not knowing what else to add to the conversation.

“Ah,,, don’t be, y/n! Just take good care of yourself, that’s what matters the most to me” Changbin said. You smiled, moving closer and hovered your hand above his shoulder.

“Can I?” you asked quietly to which Changbin nodded and moments later felt your warm hand patting his back. He felt listened to. Understood. And even though he was yet to tell you his entire life story he knew that you were different from the others. You actually cared about him. 

The room started spinning again and you clutched onto Changbin’s black t-shirt, trying to stabilize yourself. Those rainbow colored speckles you had seen earlier appeared again, vision blurring right in front of your eyes. 

“y/n? how are you?” Changbin’s voice was worried but he knew what was happening. 

“it’s spinning again, I t-think I’m gonna pass,,, out” you muttered, 

“It’s alright y/n, I’m here yeah?” His rough voice distinguished itself from his comforting words as you held onto the dark haired boy, a faint smell of tobacco interlacing with the air you breathed in through your nose. Your two arms were now wrapped around the male with your face against his broad shoulder, eyes shutting as tightly as they could, face contorting into fear until everything disappeared. The vague beats of the music. The pain that ached from your knees. The feeling of finally finding home in someone's arms. 

Everything turned into nothing in Changbin’s embrace. You were slowly turning into his everything because he had nothing in his life. 

And then you woke up. 

You gasped for air as you woke up in panic, hunching over on the floor in a coughing fit, clawing at your neck for oxygen. Panting on the floor you put your forehead against the wooden laminated floorboards, your frizzy hair blocking out the little light that was in the apartment and being hit with the malodorous smell of distilled alcohol. 

What was that?

You were convinced that it was some kind of wicked dream. An escape from reality even. But as Changbin said, you did wake up in the exact same place and position you passed out in. A long breath seized through your lungs as you shifted in your position on the floor. 

“Son of a bitch!” 

Tears prickled the corners of your eyes as the hard floor hit your wounded knees. You quickly sat down on your butt, lifting your knees up to your chin and only then did your heart drop.

It wasn’t a dream. Your eyes lingered on the bandaids that were placed with the utmost care across your both knees, a stain of dark brown blood seeping through the sticky elastic material and dried blood staining your knees in a haphazard attempt of somebody trying to wipe it off without hurting you. You managed to grab the edge of the sofa, levering yourself up with, testing out the strength left in your wobbly legs. Your phone lit up, sitting on the place you’re usually curled up in. Throwing yourself on the soft piece of furniture you observed the phone screen, lost eyes wandering mindlessly over the brightly lit display. 

What you noticed wasn’t the worried text from your mother.

It was the fact that the digits hadn’t changed from when you passed out. 

Your head snapped towards the tv screen and the phone fell from your hand when you stared at the screen, breath trembling.

The same documentary. The same colibri. 

This couldn’t be. Surely you hadn’t just stopped time,,, right? This was not something Changbin warned you about. How long until you meet Changbin again? An hour,,, or ever? 

There was nothing else you could do besides wait. Wait until the next time you pass out. And what better way to make time pass but to be confronted by your mother? You pulled up the text on your phone and read it hastily before scoffing.

[Are you eating well? Please call if you see this]

Since when did she care about you? You knew that she did care. Somewhere deep inside her motherly heart she did care but the way she displayed that so-called ‘affection’ didn’t make it obvious. You tried to justify every word, believing all the lies she fed you. You tried so hard to believe that you were healthy, that your mental health wasn’t deteriorating before the eyes of your very own mother that was refusing to see the truth. That her child was indeed in pain. You couldn’t blame her, it was her way of dealing with the issue but it didn’t make it easier for you. Your thumbs hovered above the keyboard, you couldn't think of anything better to write and quickly typed it down before you hit send.

[yes, i’m busy]

Busy contemplating your existence. Your father wasn’t exactly any better. Throwing out each one of your family members until there was only him left. He had no trouble filling that emptiness, simply creating a new family and forgetting you as if you were a chapter of the book called ‘previous life’. You didn’t mind, not after everything he did to you and your mother. There was no need for a person like that in your life but unfortunately it influenced you more than you thought, always seeking validation in either work or relationships because how could you validate yourself after your self esteem had been crushed by this tyrant?

You threw your phone on the table, a clink noise being heard as it hit a bottle, knocking it over but not breaking it. Your parental issues or mental health was for once not the biggest concern in your life, now instead wanting to search for the answers that could explain the nightclub. How did it exist? What caused it to exist and who was behind it? You needed to get back there somehow. 

The tv had turned off by itself, you found yourself waking up on the couch, using a pillow as a blanket, hugging the warm material closer to your body as you whined. With confused and lost eyes you scanned the room for a clock, hitting the table a couple of times and finally getting your hands on your phone, bringing it closer to your eyes. 

[3:02 am] the digits lit up. You rubbed your tired eyes with your left hand, throwing the pillow on the floor and using the phone display as a torch in the pitch dark room. There was no point in falling asleep again, you had already slept so many hours, sleeping anymore would only make you drowsy the entire next day. You yawned as you staggered towards the bathroom, flicking the lightswitch on the wall and squinting fiercely as you were blinded by the harsh bathroom ceiling light. You put the phone down and quickly caught your reflection in the mirror before you sat down on the toilet to pee, folding a couple of sheets toilet paper in your hand. You yawned again as you flushed, going to wash your hands but once again being amused by your reflection.

That’s not me. 

It’s the person I’ve become but never wanted to be. 

Your dark circles almost reached your cheekbones, the wounds on your knees still stinging even after hours of peaceful slumber. You poked your tongue out to which the reflection did the same, staring back at you with frizzy hair and puffy eyes from tears. You couldn’t trust it. Mirrors lie you thought and so does every single reflective surface in the entire world. You would never know what you truly looked like and that ignited panic in you, feeling your breath rapidly increasing as you held onto the white cold edge of the bathroom sink. 

This happened. Too often. It was the feeling of not knowing yourself or your surroundings. Like you had just appeared in this world, scared and alone. To not know who you are and having to live with yourself til the day you die frightened you. But you didn’t know if death was any better. Sure, the thought was comforting but being buried under layers of soil, having flowers and insects living their best life above you as you simply rotted away wasn’t the solution to all your worries although a moment of eternal peace did sound tempting. 

You felt a lump in your throat, trying to cough as if it was some sort of anxiety flem when in reality it was your brain setting up imaginary barricades. Your hair draped in front of your face and with furious eyes you peeked up, seeing your almost demon-like expression and smiling psychotically. 

I hate you. 

I fucking hate you, y/n l/n.

Your smile was wiped off the moment the room started spinning. Your reflection becomes diffuse in the mirror as if it wasn’t enough not recognising it. A loud gulp made its way down your esophagus as you continued staring at yourself in disgust. You blinked slowly, every time you closed your eyes you saw those rainbow colored specks all around, almost as if they were distracting you from what was happening, like a kaleidoscope for a child. You felt as if the ground started shaking, an earthquake in your personal world that was separated from the real one. Maybe you were going back to the nightclub, to Changbin’s reassuring arms or maybe you we’re really going crazy this time. The specks got bigger, turning into elaborate patterns in neon colors that clouded your vision. You kept eye contact with your reflection for what seemed like forever, despising the person that was staring back, your gaze broken as your eyes rolled back in your skull, your eyes white as if you’d been hexed before you collapsed on the frigid bathroom floor. 

“y/n? y/n, wake up!” 

The sun dazed your eyes as you woke up on the slightly toasty concrete. Changbin tilted his head as a cigarette was hanging out the corner of his mouth, bright sunlight behind him. He had on a jean jacket with patches from several underground punk and rock bands, his neck was embellished with multiple silver chains and his hair was slicked back, glistening in the heat. He knocked the wind out of you even more, as if passing out in the bathroom wasn’t enough torture. 

“oh y/n! you’re awake!” 

Chan says, coming closer to you, this time he’s wearing a tanktop that showed off his flawless abs, your mouth watering at the sight. You only then remembered that you looked like a mess, still in your pyjamas that consisted of an old sports event t-shirt and small basketball shorts. 

“a-am i in the club again?” you say, rubbing your eyes with both hands before feeling your head pounding a bit, sitting up slowly and feeling the harsh ground beneath you. 

“no! you’re at the phone booth, everyone is here now oh and, this is usual how it’s supposed to look.”

After your vision stops blurring you look around, seeing the same alleyway and the same crimson phone booth but being hit with a completely different atmosphere. People were standing in all types of fancy clothes, trendy bright colors, exaggerated makeup and 7 inch platforms. The sun was beaming, it felt like a hot summer day with friends, just like the old days back when you had friends. 

“why does y/n always wear pyjamas? don’t you have any cool clothes?” Hyunjin snarks, pushing his blonde hair behind his ears, displaying his dangly silver and black earrings. 

“knock it off asshat, the poor girl is probably scared off her mind” Seungmin sneaks up behind the blonde, punching him lightly in the stomach before he smiles sweetly at you. Duality was this man's second name. 

“t-thank you seungmin” you said, giving a smile back but being met with a surprised facial expression.

“you remembered my name!” he said, giggling adorably. You gave a small nod before you looked back at Changbin that was drawing a breath from the cigarette, puffing out a white cloud close to your face before waving it away. You noticed how tired Changbin looked, his cheekbones sunken in and his complexion bleak. He stretched out his hand to help you up which you grabbed, the insides between his pointer and ring finger being slightly stained orange from tobacco. You wobbled up on your feet, knees slightly unstable but feeling better from sitting down a while. 

“are you alright y/n? i could open that resting room if you want” he said before inhaling smoke once again, spreading in his mouth and intoxicating him. You shook your head.

“i want to see the club, why not while we’re there you know?” you said, smiling brightly and making his heart jump. Changbin hid the grin he so desperately wanted to display by dropping the cigarette bud on the concrete, stepping on it with his heavy boots that had chain details attached. 

“alright, whatever you want angel” Changbin sneered which caught the attention of the 7 other boys, all staring at the jean-jacketed boy. 

“angel? seems like someone has a crush” Hyunjin remarked making Jisung burst out in laughter. 

“says master heartbreaker” Chan said under his breath making Hyunjin furrow his eyebrows, diverting his gaze from Changbin to Chan instead. 

“come on you guys! can we not go to the club already?” Felix said, him also wearing a crop top along with a leather chest harness that accentuated his figure. Jisung nodded and made his way towards the phone booth that had droplets of steam on the inside, Felix and Hyunjin following shortly after the squirrel-like boy. You observed the alleyway. People leaning against the grey wall where the phone booth was, either smoking or chatting. Some were standing, others sitting down directly on the concrete, feeling the same heat you felt as you woke up. 

With unstable steps you walked towards the phone booth behind all the boys, Changbin staying by your side and waving his hands towards the 7 boys that had somehow crammed into the humid and stuffy metal building, Chan closing the glassdoor as a couple of the boys giggled. You and Changbin stood on the other side of the door, seeing how Chan grabbed the black phone you had once held with cold dirty hands and Seungmin giggling as he took a sip out of the contents in the paper cup, passing it around to the others that did the same.

They disappeared right in front of you. Your mouth stood agape. They didn’t pass out, they just disappeared into thin air, leaving the airless crimson structure empty yet again. 

“w-wait, why didn’t they pass out?” you asked, turning to Changbin as you ran a hand through your hair.

“it happens when you’re new. the body isn’t used to the entire,,, universe switch so you will probably pass out this time also but don’t worry, i’ll catch you” 

Changbin grinned, opening the door and being hit by the lack of oxygen. He held the door open for you to which you smiled, stepping inside and seeing that the paper cup had been refilled automatically. The door closed behind Changbin, you standing in close proximity to the boy as you lifted the phone slowly, still feeling the warmth from Chan’s hand. The dark haired boy grabbed the brown paper cup, not even looking at the goopy substance before drinking it, seeing his adam's apple bob up and down. You put the phone towards your ear, wondering why you didn’t hear the female automated voice.

“it doesn’t work?” you said with confusion to which Changbin smiled, pressing in the infamous number on the rusty keypad.

[1800-xxx]

“yeah, it doesn’t if you don’t type in the number” he chuckled, holding the paper cup in both hands and leaning against the humid glass.

Suddenly you hear the voice you were dreading the hear.

“Thank you for calling. This place only appears to the suffering. If you are receiving this call, congratulations! Your prayers have been answered. Drink the liquid in the paper cup above this payphone. Drink the liquid. Drink the liquid. Drink the liquid.”

It reminded you of that night. That dark rainy evening. The voice started to lag, just like it did last time. You hung up and turned around whereupon you saw Changbin handing you the paper cup. You gulped and put your lips on the edge of the cup, looking at him with unease but feeling comfortable with his presence. You tilted the cup, feeling the sweetness trickle down your throat, almost stinging your insides. Changbin smiled, he looked like the typical bad boy from every cliché teen movie but it made your heart flutter, slightly embarrassed at the state of yourself. He pushed away from the glass wall and swiped his thumb across the corner of your mouth, wiping off the sweet liquid and licking it off the tip of his thumb. You stood there, frozen at the sudden action, gazing softly at him. 

“you had something there” he chuckled as you started to feel lightheaded again, your eyelids getting heavy. 

“thanks” you said shortly, your gaze drifting down on the dirty floor beneath your feet, drifting in and out of consciousness. 

Changbin didn’t say anything, catching you mere seconds after you collapsed on the grimy surface. Admiring your heavy eyes and puffy cheeks for a second before he himself disappeared into the abyss. 

“One Moscow mule, please!” 

An unfamiliar voice shouted through the blasting club music accompanied by what sounded like the shaking off a cocktail shaker. You groaned, your eyes fluttering open and being hit by the beams of a thousand light machines in all sorts of colors.

“Oh y/n!!” Jisung shouted on the other side of the bar, you found yourself sitting on a chair in the corner of the bar, on the same side as Changbin that was working diligently, mixing some concoction into a metal shaker. You rubbed your eyes, yawning and wondering how you could sleep sitting up. You heard Changbin set the metal cup down, telling something to the woman beside him, must be his co-worker you thought. He kneeled down next to the chair you were sitting on, looking up at you with curious eyes. 

“how are you feeling?” he asked loudly, trying to overvoice the music.

“im good” you answered back just as loud, the two of you locking eyes. Changbin smiled at you with his tired face, glancing over the glasses that were located beneath the bar. 

“you want something to drink?” Changbin said to which you nodded. 

“give me anything” you said, messing with your hair and sighing. You felt tired, an urge to sleep despite the loud blaring music. Maybe it was more of an emotional fatigue. A lack of feeling. And that’s usually when you turn to the bottles. Changbin nodded, standing up and returning to his co-worker, starting to grab all kinds of pretty coloured alcohol. 

“ay! y/n! come join us!” you heard Felix say, him standing with a glass in his hand, the other boys scattered around the club along with the other troubled individuals. You smiled widely, looking around and noticing the small exit gate connected to the bar. You patted Changbin on the back, him turning around with a grin before you exited through the gate, closing it after you and pushed through the crowd of people, making your way over to the boys. 

“y/n, welcome to where you will feel alive” Jisung yelled, spreading his arms and nearly knocking someone in the hand.

It was truly living you thought. Every single way to escape reality was located here whether it would be alcohol, drugs or sex. People dancing and jumping, grinding and rubbing up against each other. In multiple booths there were people making out, touching in unknown places. Many looked outright high, moving as if their body was possessed by some dance god, not knowing how to control their limbs. You could have sworn you saw Seungmin putting a yellow pill in his mouth, smiling mischievously at someone you didn’t know. 

So this was letting go. 

“y/n! here!” you heard Changbin’s voice call behind you, turning around and seeing him putting a glass of clear liquid onto the stained wooden bar with coasters scattered all around, a couple lime wedges floating around with the ice in the glass.

“vodka tonic, giving you the strong ones” he said, grinning, to which you smiled back, understanding the hint to his personal life through his eyes. The glass was cold against your warm hand since you were in this stuffy environment filled with countless people and without any windows, only a ventilation system that led to nothing. You put the edge of the glass against your lips, taking a sip and swallowing harshly, feeling bitterness that tasted sweet because that’s what alcohol does when it’s consumed on a particularly bitter day. Or life. 

The other boys were dancing, Chan mostly hanging around the edges of the nightclub and observing the nightlife. You made your way over to him, taking another sip in order to gain the courage to strike up a conversation. 

“Sup? you feeling any better?” he asked before you had the chance to even open your mouth. 

“better. why aren’t you enjoying yourself like the others?” 

“i mean,,, i’m technically doing my job even though i’m not getting paid for it. i just like to be in charge i guess,,,” he said, getting more and more silent as he spoke. You nodded.

“i do work with stuff in real life as well” he added, to which you raised your eyebrows.

“what do you work with,,, if you don’t mind me asking!” you said, taking another sip of what tasted like Lucifer’s saliva. 

“music producer! it’s tiresome but,,, i don’t really need sleep,,, or more like i can’t sleep. lucky there’s energy drinks and naps” he said with a giggle, his dimples displaying as he chuckled, leaning against the black walls of the nightclub. 

“must be tough,,, but wait,,, i’ve never heard your music,,, and also shouldn’t you be the DJ then?” you said confused, swirling the liquid in your hand. 

“but that’s the thing y/n, all these people, every single person you see in this room lives in another universe”

You gazed at him, Chan looking straight ahead towards the crowd.

“what do you mean by different universes?” you asked to which curly haired boy cocked his eyebrow.

“we will never coexist y/n, when i tell you that we’ve tried to bring our friendships to the real world i really mean it. we will never exist in your life outside of this hub and,,, it sucks.” Chan took a pause before speaking, pondering on what to say next.

“-thats what happened with a friend we had. i’m saying had because we don’t know where they are or what adventures await them. They just,,, disappeared” Chan said mellowly, you humming in response as you took a final sip of the devil’s juice, already feeling your face heating up.

“h-how does one get out of this place,,, forever i mean” you asked, leaning back against the same wall as Chan and looking right ahead as the song changed to a slower, almost psychedelic beat. 

“when said person gets help,,, or starts to feel better or when you hit the casket, three options basically” he says with an acerbic smile. “what? Do you like Changbin?” Chan says teasingly. “you’ve been catching glances at him this entire conversation.”

He was right, you had been glancing over at Changbin occasionally, you couldn’t help it. Was it an excuse for you to look at his cute face from a distance or because you cared about him? You laughed it off but Chan turned serious.

“you know that’s it’s not possible.” he says quietly.

“what? what is not possible?”

“a relationship”

You choked on your own saliva, being blinded by the annoyingly bright strobe lights.

“a relat- ya! do you really think I have time for any of that? besides,,, i’m not really interested in Changbin.”

“who said only you should be interested?” 

Your eyes widened when Chan said that. No way could Changbin have these weird feelings to you, the feeling shouldn’t be mutual. 

“h-has Changbin said something about you?” you asked timidly, gazing over at Changbin that temporarily made eye contact across the club.

“why don’t you ask him yourself? but i’m telling you y/n,, don't get attached, you will get hurt,,, j-just like i did once” 

Sure, you understood what Chan meant. Everyone was here for the time being. One day he could disappear if he decided that the life he was living now either isn’t worth it or he takes control and makes something out of it. There comes a time where you are too tired of living the way you do and so you do something about it, no matter if it’s good or bad. 

Changbin waved his hand at you, wanting you to join him behind the bar where now Felix was standing and annoying Changbin by tickling him or whispering in his ear as he moved his body with much fluidity. You smiled, waving towards Chan shortly before you once again made your way through the crowd, feeling lightheaded but in a positive way, as if you really were forgetting reality for a moment. 

“y/n!! come!!” Changbin yelled, bouncing slightly to the typical house beat that was now playing, barely holding the bottle of gin since Felix was pestering him playfully. Changbin’s co-worker opened the wooden gate for you, smiling sweetly at you and you doing the same back, your gaze drifting down until you notice the red marks around her throat. You were often scared by people. Not by their actions but by their way to cover them up and of course, you were guilty of this too. Looking at these people you would never guess the pain that was going on inside, the surface level happiness really is surface level. You could smile genuinely towards her, you didn’t have to understand everything she was going through but you knew how it was, smiling when bridges are burning in your mind. 

Sometimes pretending hurts more. 

“Changbin!” you squealed after you had passed by his co-worker, holding the empty glass that was now nothing more but half melted ice cubes and three wedges of bright green lime. Without thinking you put the glass down on his working station and pull him into a tight hug, squeezing your body against his and feeling the warmth radiate off of him. He froze awkwardly in your arms before loosening up, wrapping his arms around you and ultimately taking in your scent that was now mostly pungent with liquor and sleep, a soft scent that Changbin couldn’t get enough off. You felt safe which was rare in a nightclub especially knowing that most people were either high or carrying weapons. But there was something about him that made you feel like home. It felt familiar, like you’d visited his soul. As if the two of you were sharing the same empty house in your heart despite you never letting anyone in, too scared to be hurt again. Maybe you could let Changbin in, maybe he was different. 

The hug lasted longer then you thought, his eyes darting all over the stuffy room before he slowly let go, taking a long inhale of the almost addictive smell. The two of you locked eyes, a shy red tinged his cheeks that was only visible due to there being a spotlight just above him. 

“can i talk to you for a second?” you asked, rather boldy which was odd. He nodded and grabbed your wrist only to pull you in behind the same black door where you once ended up in, confused and dazed. He let go of you and closed the door behind him, you standing in the middle of the room that now had tiny light standing on the floor, nothing more new then the same old shelfs and black leather couch. 

“what did you wanna talk about?,,, figured you maybe wanted to tell me somewhere more quiet”

‘Quiet’ was an overstatement, the music was making the walls shake and even though it was muffled the jumping of hundreds of people could still be heard in the small dark room where you were alone, with him. 

“ehm,,, i don’t know really,,,” you stammered, not knowing what else to say.

“is something wrong y/n? Do you need to be alone for a while? i can le-”

“no, thank you,,, i just wanna be with you.” You interrupted him, his eyebrows furrowing when you uttered the last sentence. He stepped closer to you, the soles of his shoes making a pleasant sound against the floor. You lifted your gaze at him, Changbin standing right in front of you. Beauty that could make you drool. His hair was slightly messy, temples sweaty as he had worked and fetched all kinds of bottles for hours, the grey apron marking his title in the nightclub.

“but i’m here with you! Are you playing some sort of prank on me? did chan set this up?” he chuckled with a smirk, throwing a gaze at the door before diverting it back to your glossy eyes.

“n-no,,, Changbin, I want you”

His mind went blank and so did yours.

You don’t know why you said that but it was too late. The cat was out of the bag. It was too late.

“y/n? are you drunk?” he asked, looking at you seriously and putting the back of his hand against your forehead, suspecting you might be getting sick. You shook your head in response.

“no, it was only one drink, you know? i just,,, kinda,, want you”

You grabbed his hand that was still lingering on your forehead and drew it closer to your heart, holding firmly by his wrist. The clothed valleys of your breasts made contact with the rough palm of his hand, Changbin’s eyes still glued to yours. He scoffed loudly.

“and here i was,,, thinking it was some sort of unrequited love”

It felt like his hand turned into thorns, stinging your heart. So he wanted you too. 

Changbin’s hand that rested on your boob snaked upwards, grabbing your jaw as he smiled at you briefly, tilting his head and slowly closing his eyes, attaching his rough lips on yours. Your eyes widened before they closed slowly, eyelashes fluttering in a flirty haze. This was how it felt to kiss someone you loved. It was as if a thousand fireworks ignited inside your beating heart, flying and exploding in an array of colors. A pure lightshow. 

Your hands made their way to Changbin’s angular face, cupping his cheeks and feeling his sharp cheekbones against the palms of your hands. Your noses accidentally bumped into each other as your heads tilted from left to right, a sensual pace to the kiss to which the dark haired boy chuckled, adding some laughter to the otherwise grave situation that contained the sounds of two lips smooching each other. The music was only adding to the ambiance, Changbin’s hands wandering and exploring territory on your body that was foreign to him but very well-known to you. Your wet tongues danced around to a serenade, his kiss was strong, sure to leave an unforgettable impression on you. You would want him from now on and forever. 

You moaned into the kiss as his hands rested on your ass, groping the flesh that was covered by your pyjamas-shorts. This made Changbin cock his eyebrow, pieces of his slicked back hair falling into his face as making him look like a charming 80′s prince. His fingers danced around the elastic band of your pants, fingers hooking and playfully tugging on the string, a silent plea for you to take them off. You smiled against his lips, saliva exchanging in a heavy and steamy kiss, your cheeks growing warmer by the second. 

The two figures melted into one as Changbin pulled you closer to his body, feeling his cock poke through the coarse material of his jeans against your lower abdomen. Good to know that he was enjoying this as much as you were. Your hands descended downwards, traveling along his black tight t-shirt, the jean jacket from earlier being god knows where. The contour of his abs made you smirk, you knew what he was hiding beneath these clothes that you ravenously wanted to tear up. You palmed him through his pants, earning a hiss from the male that panted heavily into the kiss. 

You broke the kiss, taking a moment to breathe as your lips were separated by a lonely string of saliva. You grabbed Changbin’s wrist, pushing him down on the leather couch as you straddled his lap, feeling his hard-on against your aching wet cunt. You wanted him so bad and here he was, in front of you for only you to devour. Changbin grabbed onto your hips, pinning them down against his cock and leaning forward to reattach his lips on yours, teeth  accidentally clicking against each other moments before your sloppy hot tongues met, feeling his tongue against the soft surface of yours. The sound of lips meeting ringed through your ears, your hips grinding against Changbin’s crotch in a steady pace, feeling your neediness grow. Your hands ran along his abdomen, sneaking them up inside his shirt and tugging on the black material of his t-shirt, pulling it above his head. What was hiding underneath his clothes was more than a pleasant surprise. Your lips moved swiftly against his jawline, peppering kisses on his delicate neck as your hands teased the supple skin of his abdomen, feeling the outline of his muscles against your touch. 

Changbin placed his hands near your stomach, pulling your oversized sleeping shirt over your head in the same fashion you did moments earlier. You gasped as the fabric danced over your now hardened nipples, freeing your tits. Of course you didn’t wear a bra when you were in the comfort of your own home but you didn’t think anyone would actually undress you, especially not Changbin. He hummed at the sight, cupping your tits in his hands that were covered in metal rings, feeling the coldness against your heated skin. You shuddered, the sensation shooting down to your dripping core. He kneaded them in his hands as you rubbed against his cock, his boner having a visible outline through his pants, you couldn’t help but to fiddle with his belt buckle, undoing it and hearing the clicking sound of the buckle hitting itself. Changbin pulled away from your swollen lips, tapping you on the thigh to step off in order for him to pull his pants down. You moved to the seat next to him on the couch, the leather sticking back as you laid down, lifting your hips up to remove your pyjama pants along with your panties that quickly hid underneath the fussy pants due to it’s rather interesting print, small teddy bears printed on the fabric. You kicked off your shoes, more like slippers that you wore indoors. 

Changbin swiftly pulled down his jeans and black boxers in one motion, throwing them close to your pile of clothes at the base of the couch. Your eyes widened, mouth watering at the pure sight of his cock, a pretty bead of precum decorating his slit, contrasting with the crimson shiny tip. A big gulp descended down your esophagus, heat tinging your cheeks. He chuckled from seeing you stare at his member with shiny doe eyes that reflected in the small lamp on the floor.

“You seem,,, intrigued” he chuckled to which you giggled, not believing that you were really in this small room together with him. 

“Y-yeah,,, maybe I am” you snarked, moving your gaze to his eyes and smiling. Only on your way upwards his well-sculpted body did you see the boy holding a small blue plastic item. You furrowed your eyebrows when Changbin opened the packet, retrieving a slightly slippery condom from inside. 

“Do we even need that?” you laughed before continuing. “I mean if nothing gets transferred to the real world neither should pregnancies or STD’s” 

Changbin tsked, rolling the condom onto his veiny cock, turning slightly away from you to avoid your intense eyes. 

“Ask Chan, he would know” Changbin said, turning back to you and making his way over to the couch.

“N-no,,, no way.” You shook your head, your mouth agape as your eyes still danced over Changbin’s buff thighs. 

“Yup, knocked up a girl” he said, suppressing a laugh. “And that’s why y/n, you never think with your dick”.

“Being completely honest,,, I expected more from Chan, he seems really,,, responsible” you remarked, Changbin hovering over you and placing a soft kiss on your lips, his hands on either side of your figure.

“He is but I think love is his weak spot or more like,,, lack of love. He often confuses love with either sex, money or fame,,, might I even say drugs.” 

You simply nodded not knowing what more to add to the conversation, Changbin’s fingers tracing small circles around your nipples, sneaking them down between your legs where your cunt was aching after him. Anything, as long as it was him. His middle- and ring finger dipped into your heat, feeling the wetness between your folds causing you to hold on to Changbin’s sturdy shoulder. Without warning his fingers entered your dripping hole, fingers curling upwards and grazing your g-spot. You flinched, feeling his cold metal rings against your clit. The dark haired boy shushed, reassuring you that you were in safe hands and that he would make you feel good. Nothing else mattered besides you. 

His fingers grazed your velvety walls, thrusting up into your cunt with just enough vigor to make you clutch to his bicep, the firm muscles making you swoon. You whined, spreading your legs even wider, your left leg hanging over the leather couch, sticking to your thigh as your body was heating up from arousal. The wet sounds of Changbin’s fingers playing with your cunt along with your soft whimpers were louder than the music outside, you pressing your head back onto the couch, rubbing your hair on the material. Changbin licked his plump lips upon seeing your face contorting into all kinds of lewd facial expressions, his cock needing to feel your warmth wrapped around it. The pad of his thumb played with your clit, laying it flat against the nub and teasing it in small circles causing tears to prickle in the corners of your shut eyes. 

“a-are you alright y/n?” he whispered softly in your ear, kissing the shell of your ear. You nodded, your hands cupping your tits, pinching your hardened nipples, adding pleasure and heat to the burning in your core. Changbin pulled out his fingers, putting the slick covered digits in his mouth and watching you with hawk eyes as he lapped up your juices, humming in delight. 

“fuck you taste so good angel” he stated, making you blush, covering your face with your hands. Changbin chuckled, tapping the tip of his dick against your swollen clit and aligning himself with your entrance. You moaned from the sensations, wrapping your legs around him to pull him in, you growing impatient the more he teased. 

“p-please fuck me Changbin” you said uttered in a faint voice, barely audible due to the music. It was as if his eyes tinged with a dark color, full of lust. His eyes were hooded, looking down at you with half closed lids, sighing loudly with sexual frustration. He wanted to destroy you, make you his but he had to hold onto his composure. Holding you firmly by your hips he slowly pushed the tip of his cock inside you, grunting at the warmness that comforted him. You hissed, biting the inside of your cheek, your nose scrunching up at the feeling of being stretched out by his girthy length. 

“can I go all the way? does it feel alright?” he asked. You answered with a small “yes”, more worried about the door being unlocked, anyone could burst through the door in seconds only to witness Changbin fucking you on the couch. That thought was quickly wiped from your mind as his cock stuffed into your cunt, your eyes rolling back into your skull as he slowly thrusts into you, using the hands on your hips as a way to guide him, nailing your cervix with each movement. The tips of his ears turned red, the silver chain around his neck reflecting on the dim light in the room as it rocked back and forward above you. You placed your hands around his wrists, looking boldly into his eyes with, a feeling brewing inside you that was hard to describe. It was titillation mixed with yearning. You knew you got him here. He was safe in your arms. You wanted to save him from everything bad in this world but how is that possible when you can’t even save yourself?

“c-changbin” you said in broken syllables, his thrusts only quickening. “changbin!” you repeated, shutting your eyes tightly, curling your toes in pleasure as a string of pretty moans melodically fell from your mouth along with his name. You couldn’t take it, his cock ramming into you in a both mindful and eager manner causing you to claw at his forearms, nails digging into the soft skin. Your tongues were once again caught in a kiss, the taste of your tongue being irresistible to the boy but not sure if it was your love that was drawing him in or the subtle taste of liquor from earlier. His lips felt parched against your, his tongue gliding on your bottom lip before kissing it, his saliva feeling hot in your mouth. The boy above you pulled away for a moment.

“you’re so pretty like this y/n,, fuck, i think i love you”

You gulped but your silence was soon cut off from Changbin slamming his hips against yours, his cock hitting your that specific spot that made you go crazy, the familiar feeling of your orgasm penting up inside you. You moaned with desperation, the lewd sounds bouncing off the dark colored walls. This was music for Changbin’s ears. His grunts accompanied by your whimpers and the squelching sound of your walls engulfing his dick so tightly, the sounds alone was heaven for him. With every move against your body you felt the well-acquainted smell of cigarettes that you could almost feel in your lungs, an addictive scent. 

“i love you too, Changbin” you mumbled, slurring on your words from nervousness, feeling shy even though you were naked in front of him. He smiled, peering down at you as his hair fell from it’s perfect gelled state. You smiled softly at him, his cheeks slowly turning a red that matched his lips. Your moans turned to borderline screams, his cock twitching inside of you as he slowly got closer to his sweet release. Clenching around him, Changbin grabbed bent your legs towards you, gently rolling his head backwards as the pace got quicker. 

“i’m g-gonna cum! don’t stop!” you yelped, your heart thumping at the speed of light, tiny sweat droplets forming on your forehead. Changbin reached so deep inside of you causing you to thrash around, fiercely trying to grip to the edges of the couch. The burning in your core got intense, it felt as if a thousand stars were falling at the same time, bursting with amativeness. The sudden feeling of warmth took over your body, a pleasant tingle surging. A breathy moan leaving you stunned, grabbing onto Changbin’s hands that were pushing your knees towards you. Just as your orgasm washed over you like a ton of bricks falling to the ground, your body jolted with the last couple of powerful thrusts, a loud gasp slipping from his lips. His girthy cock released it’s seed into the condom, his hot breath lingering near you. 

He let go of your quivering legs, them flopping down on either side of him. Your chest heaved up and down as you breathed through your parted lips. Changbin pulled off, carefully removing the condom and discarding it somewhere on the floor. He snuggled close to you on the narrow couch, pressing his sweaty body against yours, taking a moment to catch his breath before speaking.

“So you love me too?” he chuckled. You turned to face him, looking deep into his dark brown eyes that looked pitch black in the dim light. After a loud exhale you answered him.

“No, I think I can’t live without you” you whispered, rubbing the tip of your nose against his. His stable breath tickled against your chin, your eyes slowly closing as Changbin was observing your features that he found insanely attractive. And it was even more attractive that you were his. But this couldn’t last.

“You know this is not possible y/n” he said with sadness in his voice as he gulped, his adams apple protruding. You knew it, the thing you dreamt of wasn’t possible since the two of you didn’t exist in each other's worlds. 

“I feel fucking stupid” you said with closed eyes, sighing after your words. Changbin shook his head. 

“Don’t give up that easily y/n, we can try”. He was right but what relationship was only visible in the darkness of a nightclub? Only a promiscuous one. Yet, you didn’t want to give up. Not matter what kind of relationship it was you wanted to be with him. 

“So,,, what does that mean? That we are-”

“Dating, I guess” he added shortly, the corner of his lips lifting upwards. It sounded weird in your ears. Dating someone you had only met a couple of times but it felt right. This was where you belonged. In his arms, away from all your demons. He truly cared for you, not like the others. He was unlike those in your life that said that they cared but never wanted to know more than the surface level of your character. He wanted to know everything about you. Your hurt, your sorrows, your pain but also your happiness, your joy and your solace. He wanted to know you. 

Your hands trailed up and down his upper arms, his skin feeling soft against your touch. The two of you cuddled like this for a while, Changbin running his hands along your hair, its smell reminding him of a green meadow of millions of flowers in all shapes, colors and sizes. He didn’t want to leave but if he wasn’t back in the bar the boys would start looking for him and the last thing he wanted was 7 boys teasing him for getting it on. You were more than a hookup. More than just a fling. 

Changbin stood up, squinting his eyes in order to look for his clothes and finding them scattered all over the room. He pulled his underwear and jeans over his lower body before pulling his shirt over his top half, the black t-shirt sitting snugly around his muscles. He ran a hand through his dark hair, shaking his head before smirking at you. Such a tease. 

“Do you have to leave?” you asked with a whiny voice, your arms felt empty once again. He nodded.

“i’m afraid so, don’t want them thinking I've been transported back without them knowing, they get worried but that’s only natural I guess.” 

You nodded back, putting your cheek against the leather on the seat, your arm hanging straight down, the back of your hand limp against the floor. 

“Get dressed if you want to have some more fun or you can chill here for a moment but I have to warn you, that door doesn’t have a lock” Changbin said, pointing at the only door in the room. 

“i’ve already noticed that” you remarked, grabbing your panties and only after you’ve pulled them halfway up your thigh did you see Changbin smirking at you.

“You’re cuter than I thought” he said, pointing at your teddy bear panties with his chin, stepping closer to you. You looked away, biting your lip in embarrassment as you felt his hand on your hair, ruffling it sloppily. 

“You’re making fun of me!” you said back with a pout, pulling your pyjama pants over your bottom. 

“yeah, because you’re adorable” he said, placing a peck on your lips. You wanted more of him. He was simply addictive. 

But not even this universe wanted to see you two together.

Your eyelids got heavier, your eyebrows furrowing at the familiar yet distant feeling. It felt unknown until you saw the small specks clouding up your vision once again. 

“y/n? y/n, how are you?” Changbin said with worry, grabbing you by your shoulders and looking at your apathetic gaze. “N-no, y/n, don’t leave now”

You didn’t want to but you didn’t decide when you left. 

You harshly held Changbin in your arms, putting your forehead against his shoulder, rubbing against it. Changbin slowly put his hands around you, patting your back as salty tears rolled down your warm cheek, putting wet stains on his shirt. 

“shh,,, it’s ok y/n, are you feeling dizzy?” he asked carefully to which you nodded mellowly, your bottom lip quivering as the multicolored boxes of light flashed before your eyes. The room felt unstable, like your legs wouldn’t hold you much longer and they didn’t when you collapsed into Changbin’s arms, him holding you tightly to his chest as your knees buckled. Your voice was unstable, a silent cry pleading to be heard.

“I love you” you whispered in a frail voice. The ear-deafening music from outside was tuning out from your hearing, your words slurring at the end as you repeated yourself for the last time. 

“I love y-you”

Changbin was left hugging air, his arms empty as he opened his sparkling eyes. He was close to tears because he was left there. Without you. 

“HEY! WHERE IS- oh” 

Jisung burst through the black door, the six other boys standing close behind him as they looked around the room, eventually catching eye contact with Changbin.

“She went home” Changbin said softly, letting his arms fall to the sides. Jisung inched closer to him, patting him on the shoulder where your tears were still left as a souvenir of your love. 

“She’ll come back, don’t worry about it” Jisung said with a reassuring smile, leading Changbin to the door, out of the room that smelled like sex and tenderness.

“Euw,, what is this doing here? Does nobody know how to clean up?” Felix said pointing at the used condom on the floor. Changbin’s face went cold, stopping dead in his tracks. 

“is it yours or something Changbin?” Hyunjin laughed, pushing the youngest, Jeongin, in a fit of laughter. 

The room went quiet after Hyunjin’s cold laughter. It was pretty obvious.

“YOU FUCKED HER?” Jisung screamed in Changbin’s ear, making him flinch away and holding his ear in pain. The room filled with all sorts of teasing sounds, everything from “ooh~" to “AYE” in obnoxious voices. 

“Luckily he used a condom!” Minho snarled, glancing over at Chan that was ready to beat Minho into pulp. Chan sighed, regretting that he didn’t shove the condom in Minho’s smirky face. 

“No but seriously you guys, y/n is more than you think. It’s not just another person I fucked, she actually means something to me.” 

Just when Changbin thought he had something special some of the boys started laughing even harder, ruffling his hair and poking his cheeks.

“yeah right,,, what? are you guys dating or something?” Seungmin asked, rolling his eyes.

“yes, i’m serious you guys! I love her,,,” he said with a frown, already missing your touch.

“What idiot gets into a relationship 3 months before they have to go to rehab?” Minho says, retrieving a cigarette from the red packaging in the pocket of his leather jacket. 

Oh fuck. 

Rehab.

When someone recovers from their pain is when you disappear from the club. You are no longer a lost soul. You are no longer lost within yourself. And that’s when you return to the real world, your real world. 

Keeping secrets in a relationship was deceitful in Changbin’s eyes. If you belong to someone you should be as transparent as the liquor he poured into his ice cold glass every evening. He felt guilty. You poured your heart out for him, telling him everything that had hurt for so many years and here he was, pretending. He did that a lot, mainly because he was taught to be a reliable man. It wasn’t manly to feel. 

Which is why he left his home at a young age. He didn’t care if he worked a minimum wage job and lived in a destitute area, he was content as long as he didn’t live with his parents. But when you live alone it’s not rare that isolation creeps up on you and strokes your cheek with a feather light touch, inviting you over to a dance with the demons that would soon cloud up your mind. Alcohol was Changbin’s comfort. It was the only one that didn’t fail to reassure him. It was as if the bottles spoke to him, promising him that a life intoxicated was better than the life he was currently living. 

And he fell for it.

Every time.

He couldn’t take it anymore, he wanted to live a life that is actually worth living. Change comes from within but he needed help and he had only recently realized that he had a problem, that these toxic liquids were what’s keeping him from chasing the dream life. He didn’t dream of much, just the average life would be more than enough, with someone he loved. 

But what was he supposed to do?

Take the step to recover or continue his addiction for the sake of being with you?

The demons whispered softly in his ears.

Life or Love?

Taglist ; @minholuvs @liz820​ @skztrashbag @lix-freckle3​ 

[deepseavibez]

Drowning Too Deep_3 || KNJ || JHS

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-> Picture Source - Pinterest

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Drowning Too Deep [Namjoon x Hoseok x Reader]

Part 1 || Part 2 || 2.1 || 2.2 || Part 3

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Genre - Explicit Smut; established!Boyfriend(s) au; Poly oneshot; Punishment;

Summary - Alone at home, nothing but thoughts, pent up emotions, roaming fingers and a wild imagination... that is... until your boyfriends catch you in the act.

Warning - 21+!Only; Poly; Aftercare; Angst(Some);

Word Count - 4.2k

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🎶- Never Not - Lauv

Right. That was all it was. It felt right. Slowly, you registered the voice - two voices, words of good, have you, with you.

A hand cradled your head, a secure hold.. The musk of Namjoon engulfed your senses, his chin resting at the top of your head, his arm reaching around you, closing you in with the body at your back. Flexing your hand you found your fingers inter linked with slender ones, rings laced in between - Hobi held strong.

You blinked slowly out of your haze and found yourself face to face with the smooth expanse of Namjoon’s chest, your nose in line with his sternum, on instinct you placed your cheek further against it, burrowing yourself against him.

An earthy giggle came from above you, the elation in his voice evident as he took in your actions.

Smiling against him you felt the ghosting of lips against your neck. Squeezing lightly at the fingers between yours you acknowledged your boyfriends, their comfort, their love, their presence.

You could stay here forever.

You felt fingers threading through your hair, careful fingers, a contrast to the demand they had mere minutes ago. Eyes fluttering shut you basked in the aftermath of your lovemaking. If you could bury yourself in their skin, you would. The need to be as close as possible visceral and insistent.

They usually did this, let you be as clingy as possible after sex. There was something about the moment, the afterglow, the headiness, being that close, feeling that loved -- it was incomparable.

‘You okay?’ Namjoon’s question felt far away, but you nodded in response. You felt like you were in a cocoon of warmth. Shifting your legs, you winced visibly at the tenderness in your body and couldn’t help the groan of discomfort that left you. Deciding it wasn’t worth it to move, you slackened further into their hold.

After a minute of stillness, shuffling at your back had you stirring again. Blinking away the bliss of the moment, you felt your hair being ruffled lightly, the hand leaving your head. You heard Hobi say something about running the bath as you opened your eyes again and made to sit up.

Craning your head toward his retreating figure, you swallowed the whine that threatened to leave your chest, his distance already having you feel cold and bereft.

It was illogical, he was just a few feet away, but you needed him next to you, here, touching and holding you, near you.

Namjoon clearing his throat caused your train of thought to come to a screeching halt. You turned to face him and found him sitting up, trying to hold your hand, which you now realized was fisted in the blanket under you. He smirked as you loosened the scrunched material from your hand and placed your palm on his waiting one. Bringing it up to his mouth, he placed a kiss on the inside of your wrist, eyes never leaving yours. Unable to help yourself, emotions threatening to take you under, you flung yourself into his open arms and buried your head against his neck.

'Hey, we're here, we're both here, we promise. We promised to always catch you. You’ll feel better after a hot bath.’ His voice was soft and reassuring, body warmth overwhelming, both exactly what you needed, arms strongly anchored against you, holding you as tightly as you held him. To feel so much, to be okay with being pushed, to trust blindly as you did, it was impossible to recover from it.

'I don't think I can live without both of you.' The confession came from deep within you.

His chest rumbled as he hummed against you, the sound coursing through your body. 'It's a good thing you won't have to.'

Words between you and Joon were never minced, which was something you would be grateful for. The letters forming the words that took up the space between your lips were never easy going conversation, but it consisted of truth and fact and every bit the promises you would both die to uphold.

The option to use a safe word during your lovemaking was a mere formality, you had no need to use it, despite their effort to openly communicate and make sure you knew you could.

Because the ties were never that tight. They were easily maneuverable. In the moment it would feel like exactly what you needed, control being taken away from you. But in a serious setting, if logic prevailed, you were the one with the most right, the most power to stop, the most control. But it was leverage you had no need to use.

The control they had of your body, and your heart and their access to it in their keeping, the addiction you had to keeping them happy was too good of a high, and the after was always worth it; if you loosened your ties, if you took that away from them it would upset the exchange of power.

And they never let you down, not once.

'I'm okay, I'll be okay.' You said more to yourself than to him, as your grip loosened.

He didn’t budge. 'I know. I need to feel you close to me too.'

Footsteps broke you out of your bubble as you listened to Hoseok get closer. 'Water.' Only after he said it did you realize how dry your throat was, you were parched.

Pulling away you held out your hand for the bottle. The water livened your senses up a bit, like fresh air, you could think a bit clearly, and it gave you a second to assess Hobi, you noticed him closely from the top of the bottle. His jaw was set, deep in thought, he was lost to the world for the moment.

Handing the bottle to Joon when you were done, you grabbed a hold of your other boyfriend and pulled him down beside you.

Moving to the edge of the bed, not without difficulty, you threw your legs over as your hand found his hair. He wouldn't meet your eye, so you pushed in your own way. Turning toward him, you curled your other arm around his front, it took a moment, but his arm wrapped around your waist, unconsciously bringing you closer.

He would adapt around you, he would always adapt around you.

The skin contact calming, you nosed at his shoulder. 'Hobi.' His name, a question, a pretty word, a cadence,as you implored your lover to open up. He was your Hobi, you needed to know what was bothering him, even if you couldn't fix it, no one in this relationship had to handle things alone

'Were we too rough?' You paused your petting at his serious tone.

Cocking your head to the side you took a deep breath before replying. 'Do you trust me?'

You would have expected a protest at the question, but he didn't, he knew better, he simply nodded in answer.

'And did I, at any time, use it?' You didn’t wait for him to answer. 'No, I didn't, and even if I had, it would have been something to talk about. We would have gotten through it.'

Looking over at Joon, you motioned for him to step in.

Almost immediately, he moved to close in on Hobi's other side, contributing to the third degree. 'So, why are you self-deprecating?'

Hobi turned to you before answering. 'You've never been… so far gone… after.'

You couldn’t deny that. It took a minute, it was different, but there weren’t any manuals for this type of thing. ‘But I'm okay now, see, maybe a bit clingy, or alot, but besides being absolutely weird at walking tomorrow, I love making love with you both,’ You didn’t want to say it, not when you were all so vulnerable, but his thoughts needed to be shut down. ‘Don't turn it into something we have to second guess.'

'Your demons have a place here Hobi, just not when they try to get between any of us.' You smiled over Hobi’s shoulder gratefully. Joon always had the right words.

'I just don't think I could forgive myself for hurting either of you intentionally.' He looked at our bare feet, unable to meet our eyes.

'It's a lot of responsibility to be the one with the reins in the relationship, but y/n and I trust you. I mean, if we hurt you, at any time, would you want us eating up inside because of it.'

‘Would you not let yourselves get eaten alive inside because of it.’ He glanced between us, but the question was rhetorical, we all knew the answer.

‘I think the point is,’ you intervened, ‘that we'd forgive each other, eventually, there's a lot of understanding here, of course we may love each other more than we should, but we give it our all.'

Placing his chin on Hobi, Namjoon rubbed his boyfriend's back and followed your lead, in reinforcement. ‘And during sex, we have safe words for a reason, outside the bedroom we have the word no, and we have trust enough to voice ourselves in any situation.’

‘My sweet, endearing man,’ you ran your fingers through his hair and hugged yourself to him. ‘This isn't your burden to share alone, we’re all in this relationship.’

‘We're fluent in Hoseok, especially when your brain is forming words you refuse to speak aloud.’ Joon’s palm gripped Hobi’s thigh, squeezing it lightly in reassurance. 'Respect our trust in you, and remember that you trust us to speak, even if it's for you.’

He didn’t answer, just resigned for the moment as he turned over to you and kissed your shoulder, eyes far away in contemplation. It was okay, he needed time. Things like this would take more time, more communication.

‘I think it might be time for that bath now,’ Joon whispered.

-----

🎶- Paris In The Rain - Lauv

Standing on the balcony rail, you stared out at the city below you. It was your favourite spot about this apartment, the bright lights, the noise, it made you feel alive, like you were a part of something bigger

‘What's down there?’

‘Everything.’

You looked up at Hobi as leaned on the rails next to you. He was shirtless, in plain black shorts, a coffee cup in hand. Questions like these weren’t his type, but he surprised you still.

As for the coffee, it was one of the first habits they had all synced up, coffee could wake all of you up, or help put you to sleep now.

‘It's distracting sometimes, all the noise. Wouldn't it be nice to get a change of scenery, peaceful, like a quaint cottage or a mountain range and hills, lush greenery.’

You made a face at Joon’s observation as you took the cup he offered to you. After sex coffee was always a good idea. Extra sugar, extra cream, something of a cherry on the top type of thing. It's good for vacation, but not for life.

‘The plus side is that our careers are here, our livelihoods, you guys know how to navigate yourselves through this city. And I've been having fun trying.’

‘Do you think you'd ever regret moving here? You were pretty scared, at first.’ Joon pulled you against him as he voiced the question, one arm around you, he pulled the shirt further down across you, his shirt as it flailed a bit in the breeze. You rolled your eyes internally, smiling into your mug, but the small action warmed you.

‘I was scared.’ You answered after taking a sip. ‘I still have some trouble. But, I just have to remember you two, remember that I will be coming home to my favorite people, I can't turn away from either of you, not after seeing inside your lives and your hearts, and how much I want to be a part of it.’

In fact, you remember the day you chose to be a part of it.

----------

🎶 - Blinded - Emmit Fenn

‘I'm gonna miss this view.’ Leaning against the window of the boys bedroom in the dorm, you looked out, over at the buildings, the birds, the lives taking place miles around.

‘What do you mean?’ You turned toward the sound of Hoseok’s voice. He was in his and Joon’s shared walk-in closet, putting away his clothes from the day before.

You limited your emotions behind your answer. The fears and anxiety of what was inevitable plaguing you since things had come so far. ‘I have closing contract negotiations next week - my time in Seoul ends in December. They have a flight booked for me the day before Christmas.’

‘Wait, you're leaving.’ Joon stood, from where he sat at the edge of the bed.

‘Don't look at me like that Joonie, we knew about this.’ He was the more logical of the two, if he didn’t see reason, this would be harder, for both of them. ‘I have family in America, friends, a different life.’ You tried your best to be reasonable, remaining calm and comforting. Some things in life were unavoidable. You decided you would be strong here, be rational, there was plenty of time to break down, to fall apart when you got...home.

Shaking your head away from your thoughts, you positioned a fake smile, ready to drive through this conversation, as fast as possible.

‘Can you really walk away y/n.’ You looked up at Hobi as he stepped into view. You expected this, the tight voice, the stoney face, Hobi was driven by emotion, he would take longer to adjust.

You turned away from them, you never could lie well, especially not to them, these men that held your heart. ‘It’s not complicated, Hobi. You both asked to see where it goes, and, well I have to go home.’ You tried not putting much weight behind the ‘have to’ but you would be lying if you hadn’t already searched for a reason to pull time, to extend things, to stay.

‘Move in with us.’

You whirled and stared at them incredulously. Joon for the statement, Hobi for not even remotely looking to amend it.

‘What, Joon, I don't live in Seoul, I-,’

Hobi crept toward you. His features stood out, jaw clenching as he grit out, ‘Tell me you don’t love me.’

He tugged your hand as soon as he was close enough and pulled you forcefully into him. You didn't answer him or look at him, you couldn't, the little resolve you had...no. You knew you had to leave. This wasn't your world. This wasn't your life. They didn't belong to you. You squeezed your eyes to trample down the surge of pain at your latter thought

‘Y/n.’ He caught your chin and made you meet his eyes. ‘Tell me. Tell me you don't love me.’

You felt hands at your waist, ‘Tell us, and we'll walk away from this conversation, right now.’

Trapped, you were trapped. These two beautiful males, they didn’t understand. You bit the inside of your cheek, you didn't have the luxury of crying, you didn't have the right to accept this. This was your life for crying out loud.

‘I-,’

‘And don't lie.’

Your fingers dug into Hobis' bicep at his tone.

‘I don't belong here.’

‘That's not what we asked you to say,’ Joon’s voice was shaky, his usually rich baritone, clouded with an unnameable emotion.

It didn’t need a name, for a long time now, you made it okay to not have a name.

‘Well where would this go, if I stay? What are you going to do? Announce to the world you have a girlfriend that you both share.’ Your voice rose with each word, your argument gaining momentum.

‘How do we do this? How do we go about life?’ You struggled in their hold, needing distance to do this, their hands on you vice-like, unshakeable at your outburst.

‘I can have sex, and I can love and I can let go, but if I stay, I want the whole damn deal. Can you give me that? Can you introduce me to your parents? Can you tell the boys? Can you explain it to your management? Can you give me kids? Can you tell the world about us?’ Your voice broke, ‘’Because I deserve to be number one in someone's life. And to be shown off and, and I can compromise so much, the distance and the tours and the time I have to spend missing you, but I cannot be just by the way. No one should be put through that. No one should be asked that, unless you want to throw money at them and call it a night.’

‘Y/n!’ You flinched visibly at the reprimand, not sure who it came from, as the blood rushed in your ears.

You swallowed harshly and used the little bit of anger you had left, if they could hate you, it would be easier for them. 'What?! It hurts! Of course it hurts. Yes, for fucks sake, I am in love with both of you. I want the long haul. I want forever. But I cannot ask that of you. I can’t ask for you both to only be mine.’

‘Why ask when you will be given freely. When have Hobi and I ever made you believe that you weren’t entitled to any of that.’

‘Stop it! You don't know what you're saying. This isn’t just a phase, this is going to bed and waking up together. This is arguing and making decisions together. This is respecting each other's financial and career choices. This is every day, every moment, it's everything.’

‘Y/n. Hobi is my life partner. He is my soul-mate. I have loved him and I can survive because I know I'll always have him. But I can't live without you. I can't breathe unless I know I have access to you.’

‘We.’ Hobi amended.

‘We can't live without you.’ You could feel Joon’s soft smile at your back, alleviating the tense atmosphere slightly, as he followed his boyfriend’s unspoken order.

‘Baby, look at me, talk to us. Come on, make this work, make us work - we can.’ Hobi’s hands around you were demanding, as he coaxed, holding onto you tightly, as if you might disappear at any moment.

‘I can't. I, if I look at you, I can't be strong, I can't hold off, I won't be able to look away.’

‘Because you know we care. Because you know we want to be yours. Everything else is everything else.’

‘Joon, you’re making this hard.’

‘No, y/n, you are.’

‘You will remember me, that I was here, that we made the best memories,’

‘We can make more.’

‘Hobi, please be reasonable.’

‘’We know it’s a lot, but this, this isn't just for now, this is, for however long you will have us, this is for as long as you love us and we love you, fingers crossed it’s for a really really long time.’ Hobi’s lips found your forehead, as if he couldn’t help himself.

‘Do you think you will regret it someday.’ Even your whisper was forlorn.

‘You?’ He huffed, the sudden movement jerking all of you against each other momentarily. ‘I can't think straight when you're not near me, it's even worse when you're in the same room.’

‘I think a part of me woke up when I met you, and then wanted to stay awake when I realized I didn't want you to leave, that was months ago.’ Joon could make anything sound poetic, you thought.

‘A violent part of me wanted to lock you in a tower and keep you there, for us, all to ourselves. 'There was absolution in Hobi’s voice. 'You're a bit insane, in a good way, and courageous and you see the world differently and you watch spongebob of all things,’

‘Not to mention you drink coffee at night,’ Joon chimed in, ‘We want it all.’

‘I won’t stop. Work. Travels. Experiences. I have wants, needs, a lot to learn and do and I have some of the worst days’

‘All of it, we want all of it.’ Joon hugged your back as his chest rumbled against you at his declaration.

You were a goner, all because you didn't have to be on guard with them. There was always some sort of control involved in existing. From emotions to urges and choices. Sexuality even.

But here they were, asking you to be yourself, pummelling those walls down with sheer will and determination, demanding you be as y/n as possible, even if it made life a little more difficult.

‘Me?’ You looked up at Hobi, willingly meeting his eyes, letting him see how deeply embedded they were within you, searching for hesitation, for any sort of reluctance. ‘Me.’ You repeated to them both, a statement, a chance to back out, before anything else was said.

‘You.’ Joon replied with confidence.

‘You.’ Hobi said, solidifying it.

‘Us?’ You assessed the word as it fell from your lips, a stick against a stone, a spark being allowed to ignite.

‘Us.’ Firm fingers at your waist, as the whisper of a sound came a hairsbreadth from your ear.

You closed your eyes, sending a prayer to the sky, that this was a good choice, that what you wanted couldn't be so bad, that you wouldn’t wake up one day to two males that realized they were too good for you, because they were, you knew that.

You wrapped your hands around Hobi’s back, bringing Joon with you at your back.

You felt the tension ease out of both men, letting out breaths they didn't know they held.

‘Here.’ Hobi’s voice was authoritative, unrelenting.

‘Here.’

----------

🎶 - Paris In The Rain - Lauv

A kiss at your neck broke you out of the memory, the soft spot, known and well used by the man you currently rested against. ‘Where did you go?’

Leaning into his hold, you looked out toward the city, ‘Here. Us.’ You reached out and pulled Hobi into you and Joon, a soft smile gracing your face as you answered. ‘Forever.’

‘I guess, it just makes sense, something about it, just is, I just, love who I am here.’ You meant it. You felt a puzzle piece slot into place when you let yourself be talked into a life with them.

‘We get it. Anywhere with you just feels right.’ Hobi pecked your cheek and ran his fingers through yours.

‘Hobi can be under any moon, any set of stars, anywhere, as long as it's with y/n and Joon.’

You smiled at the third person statement. You considered before asking your next question, holding tighter to Namjoon’s arms around you. ‘Do you think, you’ll ever stop loving me.’

Hobi dropped his head in a giggle, very used to this question.

‘Maybe when the lights go out in the city.’ Joon's sincere answer was so like him; he was always patient. ‘When the music stops playing from the numerous ads across the buildings-.’

‘And when hell freezes over.’ Hobi added as he smiled at you.

His contagious smile formed a mirror on your face. Right then you remembered you would never get tired of moments like these, post sex or no sex, you would never get enough of them. You had yet to regret leaving your old life for a new one. You hadn't stopped falling in love with them daily.

Stars above you, the black night sky engulfing your forms like a blanket, it was a pause to the endless possibilities surrounding your lives together. You weren't sure if it would always be like this, but right now, Namjoon’s heartbeat at your back, Hoseok next to you, nothing else in the world mattered.

‘I am going to have a serious issue with you touching yourself when we aren’t here though.’ A nip at your ear reaffirmed the statement. You just took another sip of your coffee.

‘Y/n.’ Hobi chastised. Oh no, you were about to be double-teamed.

You kept the mug at your lips, making your eyes wide over the mug. You pointed to it, busy drinking coffee, not talking about this.

‘Y/n.’ They exclaimed consecutively, pulling out of Joon’s hold and you rushed into the lounge, but not before one of them grabbed a hold of your shirt. You squealed in surprise.

Thinking fast, placing the mug on the nearest surface, you pulled the shirt over your head and ran, buck naked away from them.

‘You are so done when we get a hold of you!’ Joon shouted.

‘You’ll have to get a hold of me first.’

Laughter could be heard from your apartment, laughter and squeals of a girl that laid it all on the line, for a new life, for two smart, talented men that she had found halfway across the world; laughter that carried out the balcony to the city below, laughter of a relationship finding its way in Seoul.

Part 1 || Part 2 || 2.1 || 2.2 || Part 3

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

[forever-rogue]

Hi! I have a request and whenever/ if u get to it I’d be super happy😊 it’s been a rough week and I would love a Javi fic where he wakes up next to you and it dawns on him that he loves you, and some fluff or smut ensues 👀? Have a great day!

I love this - I went with some fluff, because I am feeling soft. Here we are, some gentle, soft, and introspective Javi. 

Javier x Fem!Reader; no warnings

Javier Masterlist

»»————-　♡　————-««

He came home late. Again. For the millionth time this week - rather this month. Year?

He always insisted that you didn't have to wait up for him but it didn't matter - you always tried anyway. For the days when you were able to stay up and welcome him home into your arms, he always seemed to ease up and melt into your touch. It wasn’t much, you never thought it was, but to him it was everything. To be able to come home to your smiling face, especially after a day out in the field was better than anything he could imagine. You were the singular, bright light in his dark and desperate world, reminding him that no matter what horrors he witnessed, there was always some good in this world. That no matter how bad of a man he felt, how evil and corrupt, you made him feel like that he wasn’t just filled with aching blackness. He was a good man and he was doing good things. 

The way you’d whisper his name as he walked into your shared apartment was always reverent, gentle, but firm, a catalyst to ground him and drag him out of his DEA head-space. Sometimes, you’d have dinner ready and waiting, almost as if you could sense when he’d be back, cracking a cold beer open for him as he sat down before gently kissing him. 

Other days when it would be late - too late - you’d meet him at the door and pull him along to the bathroom where you ran hot water filled with gently perfumed oils and stripped him of his clothes before guiding him into the tub. Sometimes you joined him, when he’d reach for you with eager hands and let you lay on his chest as he spoke about his day and got it off his mind; other times he just wanted the touch of your skin on his as you laid together in silence. Some nights you sat on the edge of the tub as you held his hand, telling him about your day, or something random, followed by washing his hair and body for him. It was something you enjoyed doing and he often did the same for you. He never verbalized just how much it meant to him, but you knew, you could always tell when he’d look at you with those soft chocolate, glossy with unshed tears before he kissed you. 

There were a hundred million ways that you told him you loved him without ever saying a word. Your actions always spoke volumes, and sometimes they overwhelmed him so much, he’d retreat into himself and go off into his head. Sometimes he was convinced that he didn’t deserve this - you - any of it. That he was masquerading around and had you fooled and thinking he was a decent human. But even in those times, you let him go, didn’t push or pull too much. And you went back to showing him in all the ways you could that you loved him. That you needed him as much as he needed you. That he was your everything. 

But this particular evening, he came home extra late. The stakeout had gone on longer than he intended and he wanted nothing more than to come home and crawl into bed and into your arms. 

By the time he entered the apartment and tossed his keys, badge, gun, and wallet onto the side table, he knew you were asleep. You weren’t there to greet him in person, but in your place was a scrawled note on the counter top.

Javi - dinner is in the fridge - I made your favorite. Eat and take a hot bath (I insist) and then come to bed. Tomorrow’s your day off and I want you to rest. Te amo.

An overwhelming sense of warmth started in his core and spread throughout his body as he read over your words. Never in his life had he expected to be part of this level of domesticity, but fuck - it sure felt nice. He ran a finger over your gently scrawled words before tucking the note safely away into the pocket. 

Just as you instructed, he went to the fridge and pulled out the plate you had prepared for him, heating it up while he got a beer and flicked on the television to quietly listen to some rerun of an old movie. As he ate, he listened to your soft snores coming from the bedroom as he smiled to himself. He knew he loved you, hell, he’d known that for a long, long time, but it had never really hit him just how damn much. It was the little things, and the big, that had him falling for you, over and over again. And - gods, he was completely smitten with you, overwhelmed and all consumed by you. 

He finished his plate and beer, going to set them in the sink before deciding against it and washing the few items up and tucking them in the cabinet. It wasn’t much, but he wanted to do it so you wouldn’t have to. Padding to the bathroom, he sneaked a quick peek at your sleeping form before smiling and stepping inside and turning on the tap for the hot water. He filled it with oils and bubbles, just as you always did, before stripping and sliding into the warm, blissful water. A low groan escaped his lips as he already felt the tension leave his body; you had been right - this was exactly what he needed. 

He took his time to wash his dark locks, to scrub himself free of any of the stress and grim, both literal and metaphorical, from the long day he’d had. He was off for a few days now and he wanted to start anew, to have a couple of fresh, clean days to get lost in you, to get lost in the simple pleasure of a normal life. It was nice sometimes, to get a reprieve from the constant darkness. One day, you promised him, this would be an everyday thing. And he couldn’t wait. 

Once he was satisfied with his handiwork, he got out and dried himself off and grabbed the clean pajamas you had laid out for him before crawling under the covers to join, taking care not to disturb your slumber.

But it was no use; as soon as you felt him slip into bed, you whispered his name with a smile tugged across your features. Your eyes didn’t open as you held your arms open and motioned for him to come to you. He eagerly complied as he let you wrap him up in your arms, pulling him tightly against your chest before tangling your legs with his. Javi made a small sound of content as he buried his face in your neck, pressing a few kisses to your soft skin before yawning and feeling the sweet call of slumber win him over. 

“I love you, Dulzura,” it was a soft whisper - a promise - a reminder that even if he didn’t verbalize as often as he should, it was true. 

»»————-　♡　————-««

By the time he woke up the next morning, or rather later that morning, the sun was shining brightly through the sheer curtains, the chirping of birds and the excited shouts of children reaching his ears. Javier moved to reach for you, but found your side of the bed empty. He huffed lightly, wanting nothing more than to feel your skin on his, but his despair was quickly turned upside down.

The delicious smell of cooking - bacon, coffee, pancakes - met his nose as he listened to you softly singing along to whatever was playing on the radio. Suddenly his world stopped as he realized with a burning intensity that this  - you  - were his everything. It was overwhelming and nearly bowled him over as he realized that he already had everything he could ever want. 

As if you sensed that he was awake, you padded down the hallway and poked your head into the bedroom to find him grinning back at you. 

“Good morning mi amor,” you beamed at him, that soft, gentle smile that still managed to make him weak in the knees. God, that smile had won him over within about five seconds of meeting you. You stepped in and walked over to him, leaning down to press a soft kiss to his lips. Javi reached up and grabbed your face, holding you against his lips as he savored your sweet, saccharine taste. He traced over your features, studying you closely as his eyes softened, “what’s wrong, Javi?”

“Nothing,” he promised with another soft kiss, “I’m just happy. What a sight to wake up to.”

“I’m happy too,” you promised him, “I’m glad you got some rest, but now go back to sleep, it’ll be a little bit before everything is ready.”

“I’m wide awake now,” he insisted as he sat up and you ran a hand through his messy locks.

“Was I being too loud?” you frowned, hoping you weren’t the cause.

“No,” he promised softly, “I got enough rest. Let me help you - “

“It’s okay, Javi,” you insisted, “I want to do this, besides, it’s your day off. Let me take care of you.”

“I love you, dulzura,” he said suddenly, reaching for your hand before you could get away, “I know I don’t tell you enough, or show you, but please just know, I love you more than you will ever know.”

“I know Javier,” you gave his hand a squeeze, “I know you do. You prove that to me every day, even if you don’t realize it. I love you too.”

“Let me come and help make breakfast,” he moved to slide out of the bed and stand up, stretched as he did so. 

“Javier, you don’t have to…”

“I want to,” he promised gently, wrapping his arms around you before pulling you into his chest, “really. And maybe this afternoon we can go to the beach. Just you and me. What do you say dulzura?”

“I’d like that Javi,” you grinned at him as touched his cheek, getting lost in those soft brown eyes, “I’d like that a lot.”

“And I like you a lot - I love you always, even if I don’t say it enough,” he insisted, “you have my heart, now and forever.”

“And you have mine, Javier. Always.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

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[just-here-for-the-moment]

So, since you murdered me yesterday, its only fair that I try to get a little something back from you. I want you to give me something good - I need a good ol' bath -preferably with either Frankie "Oral King" Morales or Marcus "Pants Python" Pike. Your choice, but know that my life (or afterlife) depends on it. Meaning - the sooner the better, love.

You know what? It's a Friday night, I'm feeling generous (and still a little bad about murdering you) - you get BOTH!!!

Bedtime Stories by JHFTM

Rating: Explicit, 18+ ONLY Warnings: oral sex/F receiving; fingering/F receiving; mentions of anal sex; mentions of food; shameless fantasizing about Marcus "Trouser Snake" Pike's surprisingly filthy mouth

Frankie “She Comes First” Morales…

You come home from work on a Friday night just absolutely shattered. Frankie knows what you need, baby. He’s going to draw you the hottest bath you can stand, fill it with your favorite bath salts, and make you sink into it - no arguments, sweetheart. While you’re soaking up the warmth, he’s going to bring you a big glass of Southern sweet tea (homemade with sugar, none of that fast food shit), and sit on the edge of the tub to give you the world’s best foot massage.

What that? You didn’t know that the King of Cunnilingus also gives excellent foot massages? Well, now you do! And he’s not going to stop until you are putty in his hands. While he’s doing that, he’s going to ask you about your day. That low, calm voice of his, the little circles he’s rubbing into your skin, and the heat of the water almost put you to sleep. But Frankie’s not done yet, far from it...

When the water gets cold, he’s going to drain the tub and refill it extra-hot. Then he’s going to scrub your back, getting aaallll the spots you can’t reach. When you’re a limp, happy noodle, he’s going to rinse you off, wrap you in a big fluffy towel, and then lay you out on the bed. You’re honestly so happy and relaxed that you could fall asleep right there, laid out naked and air-drying gently under the ceiling fan. Just as you’re about to drift off with a smile on your face, you feel Frankie’s big hand on your ankle, shifting you into position so that one leg is bent with your foot flat on the bed. Then he does the same with your other ankle, and you realize exactly what he’s about to do…

“Ohhh… Frankie baby.” You’re so relaxed you can’t even open your eyes. “You don’t have to do that, love. I’m so relaxed already.”

“But I want to, sweet thing. I love doing this for you.” His voice is low and even, and he’s kneeling between your legs, rubbing circles on the inside of your knee with his broad thumb. You’re so blissed out that you almost can’t respond. The moment hangs there, and he’s starting to think you’ve fallen asleep. But it’s just that your brain is slowly processing what he wants to do, and how good he is at it, and how many times he’s made you come so hard before just from eating you. And you start to get aroused, despite your drowsiness. So you try to speak, and when you do, your breath hitches: “Okay.”

And that’s all the assurance he needs. Frankie knows you love this, he just always needs to hear it; he makes sure that you give your consent. And when you do he’s off like a shot, leaning down immediately because he’s already got both you and himself into position. All he needed was a yes.

You feel him take the first lick, separating your folds, and he loves the way you taste. You’re still warm and damp and clean and relaxed, and Frankie likes to start you off relaxed, because he knows it won’t be long. He knows how good he is at this, how to push your buttons and in what order and when to flex his fingers and when to hold them still. He knows when to lick with a broad, flat tongue and when to flick your nub with the hard tip of it, and he works every angle you have until you’re arching your back and moaning his name. Your hands can’t find a resting spot and they’re moving on their own almost; tangling in his hair and then palming flat on your abdomen and then gripping the bedspread and then squeezing your own breasts. Frankie loves it when you start to thrash around, making little squeals like you’re about to sneeze. He knows you’re close.

He feels your pelvic muscles start to tense and he does that thing with his tongue one last time and you are suddenly off in space, arching your back so hard you’re practically bent in half and squeezing his head between your thighs. He works his fingers slowly, massaging that sweet spot of sensitive tissue behind your pubic mound with one broad finger and laying a long, sucking kiss to your clit. A few tears leak out of your eyes from the release, and you can’t remember your own name for a moment. There’s only you, and Frankie, and that mouth of his, now laying soft little kisses to your mound and your inner thighs as he pulls his fingers out gently.

“Was that good?”

---

Marcus “Anaconda” Pike…

You knew that Marcus had something special planned for your anniversary. There was no way he would tell you what it was, exactly. But from the little secret smiles and hurried phone calls in the past few weeks, you knew he was pleased with his clandestine planning.

The big weekend came, and you started off on your lovely trip to the beach. A nice relaxing weekend to get away from it all, to disconnect your phones and reconnect with each other. The drive was easy, the sightseeing was fun, and the hotel he had picked was beautiful. When you checked in, Marcus made you wait at the bar. And when you got off the elevator and opened the door to the suite, you saw why.

He didn’t want you to overhear that he had rented the Presidential Suite. An enormous extravagance (you would have been happy with a regular room), but for Marcus it was perfect. He wanted to show you a good time, and let you live it up in luxury for 48 hours. When you saw the bathroom you gasped: not only was it bigger than your whole bedroom back at your D.C. apartment, but it had the largest bathtub you had ever seen.

When you finally closed your jaw and turned to look at Marcus, he had an enormous grin on his face. He knew that you were tired of the tiny shower and shallow tub in your apartment, and he had made sure to ask for the suite with the best soaking tub. You wanted to live in it.

Marcus turned the faucet on and tested the water, then told you that you could spend the entire evening in the tub if you wanted, no need to get dressed up and go out to a fancy dinner. You squealed and kissed him and made him promise to get in with you. Then you had the best idea ever.

“Ice cream in the tub? Whatever my girl wants,” Marcus had grinned. He ordered up room service and then rubbed your shoulders as you sat on the edge with your feet in the warm bubbles. When the food arrived, Marcus set it up within easy reach on a little table tray. He had ordered french fries and your favorite ice cream: chocolate chip cookie dough.

“God, Marcus. I could die happy right now.” You sat shoulder-deep in the warm water and teased his toes with yours, swirling your feet in the water to try to reach him. Marcus wiped his mouth off with a napkin and tossed it on the tray.

“I hope you don’t die. I was kind of looking forward to a nice weekend.” He wiggled his eyebrows at you. “I had plans for later.”

You crooked your finger at him and he shifted to come over to your side of the tub. “What plans did you have in mind, Mr. Pike?”

“Oh, you know…” Marcus moved you away from the wall of the tub gently and then spread his legs open, sitting you down in the V and wrapping his arms around your torso.

He continued. “I thought we could start with a nice bath, maybe take this into the bedroom, see where the weekend goes.” He nuzzled your neck and your nipples popped to attention.

“Mm-hmm. Go on.”

“Well, I thought maybe after this I could rail you into the mattress. Make you come so hard and scream so loud that someone calls security.”

You giggled. “And then what?”

“Well,” Marcus kissed your neck and scraped his teeth gently over your ticklish spot, palming both of your breasts in his huge hands. “Once you’re nice and relaxed from two or three orgasms, I was going to break out the industrial lube and see if you wanted me to go in through the back door. Give you one of those nights you won’t ever forget.”

You gasped theatrically and he nuzzled your ear with his nose. “Because the last time we did that, sweet girl, you ended up being such a filthy little cum slut that I nearly had to tie you down. You were wiggling so hard I thought you were going to pop right off my cock.”

You moaned, somewhere between a hum and a wail. Marcus nipped your earlobe and continued his dirty monologue. “So if you want to get fucked into next week, baby girl, you’re going to have to be good for me this time. Don’t make me work so hard that it turns into a struggle fuck.”

Your eyes closed and you bit your lip as Marcus continued to run his hands up your sides, down your breasts, and finally, finally down to your sweet spot. He used two of his thick fingers to spread your outer lips open and then massaged your clit slowly. Your breathing stuttered as your mind started to ooze away into bliss.

Marcus’s next words were spoken in his normal, sweet, even tone, and it contrasted gorgeously with the depraved words. “Are we good, baby girl? Are you going to be a good little fuckdoll for me? Or do I have to tie you down?”

~The End~

[pearl-blue-musings]

Never Been Kissed: EraserMic

HI WELCOME TO SAD BOI HOURS

so i didn’t technically have an idea for them but yall know how the brain be sometimes....

This will be longer than some of the other ones because SAD and gets a little steamy at the end so I might make a smutty part to get better at writing smut who knows

Warnings: language, suggestive content, 18+ to be safe, also angst whoops

Pairing: EraserMic x fem!reader

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

To say you were surprised is an understatement. You figured your two best friends wouldn’t be spending their New Years Eve with you in your lonely apartment eating pizza and watching crazy countdown shows.

And yet, here you were. Snuggled in between them with your head on the stoic and quiet dark haired man, laughing at whatever joke the loud blond squawked during a commercial break. To you, this was bliss; just a woman with her two male best friends.

Two best friends who were in love with each other and had been for awhile.

Two best friends that you were also in love with.

But you did as you normally do: squash them down into nothingness, trapping them in a locked box with no means of finding the key.

You had met the duo as a transfer student in your third year at U.A. Since Hizashi was better with English, he was your guide and helper for the first couple of weeks helping you get adjusted to life and catching you up on things you might’ve missed. You can never forget the way his eyes lit up at you upon first glance. His presence was overwhelming but nary in a bad way. He was overwhelmingly sweet and patient with you, despite his enormous personality. 

In time you met Aizawa, his counterpart, the Yin to his Yang. Where Hizashi was large, he was small. Where Aizawa would ponder his thoughts, the blond would blurt them out. They really were perfect together and somehow you had entered into their perfect world.

It was no wonder you had developed feelings and fast.

They welcomed you when no one would. Looked after you when you were stressed, the butt of a joke, or were missing home. They were always there, always by your side.

So why did it hurt so much when you found them together?

You hadn’t meant to arrive at his house early for your study session, but you were in such a good mood! Were you thinking of confessing? Maybe. But that all went away when you turned the corner too early. There they were, your two best friends kissing in the most passionate way imaginable.

And you just watched.

How had you not known? Of course you had known, they were perfect for each other. All you did was complicate the narrative of their life. You knew about the friend they had lost almost a year ago so you understood their close ties even more now. They found solace in each other. And who were you? Some new foreign transfer student stupidly and hopelessly in love with the two guys who gave you attention and the time of day?

You only watched seconds longer for them to break apart and then peck each other on the lips again. You hear Hizashi whisper, “Do you think we should tell her?”

Aizawa sigh’s, “Only if you want to. I know how much you care about her.”

You didn’t dare listen to the rest of their conversation as you turned heel and ran. Tears beginning to cloud your vision as you run back to your place. Once you got your breath and quirk under control, you had sent them both a text saying that something had come up. For now, it was enough for them and for you.

You began to avoid them for a few weeks, forcing yourself to move on and bury your feelings deeper. You had resided to being the third wheel, the one that’s always left out, the black sheep, the odd one out; as if that hadn’t been your life before so it wasn’t anything new. What had shocked you one day as the lunch bell rang, was a pale hand grabbing onto your uniform.

“Hizashi is worried about you.”

You couldn’t meet his gaze.

“I’m worried about you. You’ve been avoiding us.”

You conjure up a quick lie that doesn’t get past the observant student. “Sorry, I’ve been really try to focus more on school and graduation and trying to find my own identity. Having to make up internship time while getting a provisional license has taken up most of my time.”

Aizawa was unconvinced but played along. “I get it. Talk to us when you can, okay?”

You only nod and kept your head down to avoid his knowing gaze. You had walked away just in time for a tear to fall, and for you to run into the other person from the dynamic duo.

“You’re lying to us, princess,” Hizashi says surprisingly low. “What’s wrong?”

Soon you were joined by his partner and had both of them boring into you. Well it was better tell a half truth, not like they needed to know.

“Sorry you guys,” you mumble. “I’ve been really stressed with all i have to do to graduate with you all. I didn’t wanna burden you with that.”

And my unresolved feelings

“Is that all?! You had us worried sick! Don’t keep us out like that okay? Ya dig?”

You couldn’t help the smile that spread onto your lips at his usual language. “Yeah,” you giggle, “I’m sorry. I promise I’ll tell you two everything.”

“Speaking of truths,” Aizawa interrupts, “there’s something we’ve been meaning to tell you.”

“You’re dating, I know. I wanted to give you two space so...”

Lime green eyes widen and his jaw dropped. “You knew?! Is it that obvious??”

You full on laughed at that. “It kinda is. You two are perfect for each other.”

Ever since the unveiling of particular truths the three of you were always close. You didn’t always feel like a third wheel to their relationship but all of you were open books to each other. Except about your feelings; that is a secret you are willing to take to your grave.

It was only ten minutes until midnight and the drinks had finally slowed from their free flowing. The three of you enjoyed a couple drinking games of watching the different countdowns and by this point, you were drunk. You had noticed the time and lifted your head from Shouta’s shoulder and began to get up.

“Hey you, why are you moving?”

You had paused and were halfway standing when those almond eyes bore into yours. “Oh, well it’s, it’s almost midnight. Ion wanna get in the way of your kiss so I’ll, I will move.”

The couple exchange a glance, a look on their faces one you had never seen before then back to you. You don’t pick up on it and continue to stand. 

“(Y/n)...it’s a stupid thing it doesn’t-”

“I’ll get the champagne. Sham. Pain. Sham pahgney. Wait there.”

The two men on the floor remain in their same spots. Hizashi trying not to chortle too much at your pronouncing of champagne and Aizawa trying to figure your mood. He never thought anything was awkward between the three of you, but lately it had begun to be. He’d find himself wondering what you were doing or how it would be nice to cuddle you in his sleeping bag. Even Hizashi doesn’t get sleeping bag rights.

And Hizashi can act aloof and unaware, but he’s been having urges for you in a way that he thought he had gotten rid of. He had told Shouta back in U.A. but the first time he saw you he wanted to believe in love at first sight but he was already with him by then. Why? He already loved someone, why did he still feel incomplete? 

As much as they loved you showering them in compliments that they were perfect for each other, the couple had always felt empty. But that feeling would change when you were around. How were they to tell you how they really felt? It should be obvious how much they care and love you, they each cancelled their radio show and patrol for the evening to be with you. Why couldn’t you see?

You had returned with three champagne flutes filled with the golden bubbly drink. You frown a little that they hadn’t moved, so you sat down and handed them their drinks. The only sound that was heard between the trio was the announcement of the final five minutes of the year. You rested your head against the couch and deeply exhaled.

“(Y/n),” Shouta starts, “are you okay?”

“Yeah dove! It looks like you were crying! Talk to us!”

Your head quickly snaps up and you take your empty hand to touch your face. Fuck, you had been crying. When did that happen?

“Oh you two,” you sniffle out while wiping your face. “It’s nothing, nothing! I was remembering my, uh, ex and how we were supposed to kiss at midnight and I guess I got sad. It’s nothing.”

“He wasn’t worth your time, ya dig? You’re beautiful!”

“You can do better. He didn’t treat you right.”

It seems that they both spoke at the same time, making the three of you break into laughter. But once you take in their words, you begin to sober up slightly. Did they really mean it? There’s no way, you need to keep those feelings locked up. Suddenly the flood works were opened.

Hizashi is the first to wrap an arm around you. “(Y/n) princess. Talk to us.”

Lock it up, bury it deeper.

“Like I said, my ex. I was finally going to get my New Years kiss but it’s not gonna happen.”

Throw away the key.

“Dumb right? I’ve never had a New Years kiss and that’s what’s got me so upset.”

They can never know.

And now there’s only 30 seconds left of the year and you’ve already come up with a resolution. Let them go. Let go of your feelings for your two best friends. You had started that resolution earlier in the year with a new boyfriend but he had dumped you at the beginning of December. He claimed that your heart wasn’t in it and that you didn’t love him. You did, you just happened to love two other men too. That’s how it is.

“It’s not dumb, Kitten. You have a right to be sad.”

The timer began to dwindle from 10. You hadn’t realized how your tears were being wiped away from both sides of your face. All three of you had abandoned your drinks in exchange for this moment. Your cheeks were warm but not from the alcohol. You began to smell two distinct scents overcoming you as you began to feel them come closer into your space.

Don’t let them know, and let them go.

“Happy New Year!” 

You had barely heard the announcer say those words when you felt two sets of lips on your cheeks. This is all you had ever wanted but you couldn’t stop crying when they didn’t stop touching and caressing you.

“Please stop,” you whimper out as you feel yourself being pulled in one direction.

You meet lime green irises as he holds your chin. “No, we won’t. Fuck, can’t you see how much we love you?” The blond silences your rebuttal by kissing your lips in a way you had only dreamed of. A different set of hands had rested themselves underneath you sweater and was feeling all of your skin, reaching the front of your bra. 

When you part for air panting, your eyebrows furrow. “I don’t, I don’t understand. Please don’t hurt me anymore. I, I mean... How long have you known?”

You’re turned around to face Shouta and his dilated pupils. “We’ve always known about our feelings for you. We were waiting for you to see how much we love you.” He pecks your lips lightly.

“You love me?”

Their words and actions are incredible to you right now. But you can’t think clearly as Aizawa cups your face to clear it of more tears as he affectionately places his lips on yours, kissing some of your tears and hurt away.

Aizawa nods into your kiss and pulls back, noticing a string of saliva connecting your plump lips to his. “We have, for a while now.”

“We realized our feelings for you a year after we had all graduated,” Hizashi intercepts. He takes the two of you up onto the couch and places you in his lap comfortably. “Well, I knew I liked you from the moment I met you! And I think for Shou it was when you didn’t speak to us for a few weeks. But then,” he stops to kiss your cheek and then trail down to the corner of your lips, “after you had gotten hurt as a sidekick and were severely injured,” his hand draws circles on your thigh, “we realized we didn’t know what to do if you weren’t around, ya know?” He finishes with a kiss.

You pull away, “But that was five years ago?” You feel the couch dip behind you as Aizawa takes your free hand and interlocks it with his, giving you comforting rubs. But he also takes your hands closer to his crotch. He’s hard? “You kept dating shitty guys.”

“Yeah! To try to get over you!” You cover your face in your hands as you begin to remember the people you had dated and how they didn’t compare to the two men beside you right now. You didn’t want to admit it, but you were starting to get the feeling that they had some more plans in mind for your new year start, considering one was already hard and the other hadn’t stopped touching you. The touches went from friendly to lust filled in mere seconds.

“Listener, baby girl I gotta know. Why did you really stop talking to us back then?” the blond pinches your thigh and moves his hand closer and closer to your heat making your heart beat race.

“I, hah, I caught you two.”

The pair stops and looks to you.

“Kissing. Before one of our study sessions. I was heartbroken. I overheard part of the conversation but I ran away crying.”

Aizawa catches your neck and you end up meeting his lips again, as another pair trail up and down your neck. “Kitten, if you had staid longer you would have heard us talk about maybe opening it up to you. It was his idea since he caught feels first.”

The man at your neck whines and bites down, eliciting a moan from you as he pouts at his lover. “Don’t put this on me! You wanted to include her too but you were too chicken to admit your feelings.”

“Guys...”

Aizawa runs his hand down to your ass and gives it a tight squeeze. Your lips involuntarily open and he prods his tongue inside your mouth. Your hands find purchase in his shirt, finding some sort of stability. From how this was going, you weren’t going to be able to walk tomorrow.

Both men look up to you with love in their eyes and hearts and you smile fondly at them both.

“(Y/n),” Hizashi breathes, “we love you so much.”

“I love you guys too.”

Aizawa grunts and mumbles out,

“Let us show you how much we love you, okay Kitten?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@cupcake-rogue

[xxwritemeastoryxx]

One Too Many Times

Author: xxwritemeastoryxx

Pairings: Former Damon Salvatore x Reader

Word Count: 2.6K (I COULDN”T KEEP IT UNDER AND IM NOT SORRY! Plus Heather said I have no rules so....)

Warnings: Angsty arguments, heart break, but that’s about it in this one. 

Author’s Note: Heres the second post for today! I hope you guys enjoy. This is for @idkhaylijah ‘s 3k Follower Celebration. Again I was waiting until the last minute to get this one done, but I figured lets use this to help kick off May Madness. I had selected Exile by Taylor swift along with the prompt: “How much of that did you hear?” Of course the prompt is in bold and the lyrics are italicized. Enjoy!

Feedback gives me life and motivation for future things. ♥

Even though Damon had every reason to be there, it didn’t mean he wanted to be there. He didn’t want to have to deal with the people that he was going to have to see. He didn’t want to deal with the fact that he’d go to this party and he’d see her there. It wasn’t the fact that she’d be there that turned him off from going. It was the fact that she wasn’t going to be there on her own that made a twinge of pain and even jealousy pull at his heart. 

He knew how the night was going to play out. He was going to have to watch the woman he loved with someone else. He’d have to watch as she looked at another man with the stars in her eyes just as she had once done with him. The laughter that would be pulled from her lips wouldn’t be because of the things Damon had said. He wouldn’t be the one to cause the heat to build in her cheeks at the things he would whisper in her ear. 

The thoughts themselves had made him angry. He hadn’t even seen them yet and his blood was already bubbling away. And that itself was a warning that he should have stayed away. But Damon knew better. He knew he needed to be there. He needed to be there to mingle in with the party goers before they all put their well thought out plan into action. A plan to take down a witch who believed to be holding all the cards in his favor. That didn’t mean Damon had to enjoy it. 

I can see you standin', honey

With his arms around your body

Laughin' but the joke's not funny at all

Damon had found himself a spot in the back of the room that gave him a view of the whole room. His eyes scanning over the crowd of people every few minutes. Across the room, Stefan had found another spot, doing the same thing. Both of them keep their eyes out for anything that might ruin their plans. They were only a few hours into the night and so far there had been nothing that told them things were going to take a turn. It was as Damon brought his glass of bourbon up to his lips that his eyes landed on Y/N for the first time tonight. 

She looked stunning as she walked through the crowd and made her way towards the bar. His eyes were on her and her alone that he hadn’t even registered the man that was close behind her. At least that was until she came to a stop and his hand came to rest on the small of her back. 

He watched as she turned towards him, a smile on her face as they began speaking as if nothing was going on around them. That there was no lurking danger that would be thrown upon them. Y/N didn’t even know the plan that the Salvatores and the others had put together. She wanted out. She wanted to be as far away from the supernatural world as possible. 

That is where Y/N and Damon butted heads the most. She no longer wanted to be entangled in the world she had found herself with her friends and the Salvatores. For as many times as she had been almost killed in the process of saving Elena, she couldn’t handle it any more. 

She loved Damon. It was proven several times where she went out of her way just to prove that she was there for him and needed him to know that. It wasn’t until things started to change that Y/N couldn’t take it anymore. She tried getting Damon to understand, but it seemed pointless. 

When Y/N said she was done with it all, Damon tried to fight to keep her there. He wanted her to stay but it had already been too late. While she still wanted the memories of everything, including the training she learned over the years, she just didn’t want to be a part of it any more. She wanted to be left alone without the fear that her association with the group would get her killed. And she left. 

There was nothing Damon could say or do to change her mind. He watched her from afar and always kept anything from happening to her. But this he couldn’t control, as much as he wanted to. She had been with the man beside her for a little over a month and Damon never bothered to remember his name. Even when he ‘bumped’ into them while out in the town, Y/N had introduced him and he didn’t care to listen. 

Just as he feared, Damon watched as Y/N’s head tossed back as she laughed. The laughter that filled the air had made him turn his head away for a moment. The amber liquid in his glass no longer appealing to him as he set it down beside him on the side table. He’d never understand how she had changed her mind so quickly. 

His jaw clenched as she looked up at them once more. He could see the way he was leaning into her as he spoke, the way a soft smile pulled at her lips at them. There was a voice inside of him that knew he should walk right over to them and easily pull his heart out. But he knew better. Having Y/N as a distant friend was better than nothing. And if he killed her date, he’d lose her completely. 

I can see you starin', honey

Like he's just your understudy

Like you'd get your knuckles bloody for me

From the moment that Y/N had entered the house, Elena had stopped right in front of her. The woman’s brown eyes worried for Y/N before she pulled her over to the side. Y/n looked back over her shoulder at her date, giving a quick apology.  

“What is it?” Y/N asked the moment they were alone. 

“You should know what’s going on if you are going to be here.” Elena offered. Elena knew Y/N for so long that she was happy that the woman wanted nothing more to do with vampires. But even then Elena wanted her safe. 

“No.” Y/N said shaking her head quickly. “I don’t want or need to know. Ignorance is bliss and I’d like to keep it that way.”

“Y/N-” Elena began before Y/N stopped her. 

“I don’t want to know.” Y/N shook her head. “There could be a target on my back and still wouldn’t want to know.”

Elena nodded her head a moment later. That allowed Y/N to go back to her date without another word on the subject. 

“I need a drink.” She said before making a beeline for the bar. Liam’s chuckle came from behind her before he began following her over. 

“What was that all about?” He asked as he placed his hand on the small of her back as he came to a stop beside her at the bar. 

“The usual girl talk.” She lied before she ordered a drink. Liam definitely needed to be dragged into things. Especially if she herself was trying to get out of it herself. 

Y/N felt that as long as they didn’t stick around for long, they’d be okay. That the two of them would leave the moment she felt that things might change. She could easily put it as if she was ready to leave the place. Anything to keep herself out of it and not a part of it at the same time. 

“While I may not know what girl talk entails, but there was that very obvious feeling that something was wrong.” Liam said as he removed his hand from her back and grabbed the drink that had been placed in front of him. “Your friends seem to care.”

She laughed. It wasn’t an authentic laugh as she looked over at him. “They do care. But sometimes friends grow apart and when that happens, it mostly feels like strangers.”

“And what of your ex?” He asked with a slight raise of his brow. “Because by the looks of things, he’s looked this way a few times.”

It was then that Y/N had looked around at her surroundings. She followed Liam’s line of sight that led straight to Damon. There was a moment where their eyes met briefly before he turned to look away.  She bit on the inside of her cheek as she took in the way he looked before he had. 

She hadn’t missed the way his jaw ticked. Or the way that his eyes had darkened as he looked at the two of them from across the room. She knew his eyes well enough to know when there was guilt and anger swarming within them. It was the way his fist had clenched at his sides as he turned his attention away from her. Yet, no matter how much she had believed what she was doing was the best, there was that part of her that still loved the vampire. 

But she knew that this was what she wanted. This was how she was going to survive.This was how she was going to live a long enough life without the fear of someone coming after her. 

Second, third, and hundredth chances

Balancin' on breaking branches

Those eyes add insult to injury

It was as Y/N had excused herself some time later that Damon managed to pull her to the side. The annoyed look on Y/N’s face had told Damon that she wasn’t looking forward to hearing anything that he had to say. But he needed to try something, anything to ensure that Y/N was safe. 

“You shouldn’t be here.” He said the moment they were alone. 

She laughed and shook her head. “Not be at the party that I’ve been invited to?”

“Elena told me she tried explaining things to you and you didn’t listen.” His voice was calm, but Y/N could easily begin to pick up the slight tones of anger within them. 

“You guys don’t get to tell me how I can live my life.” Her eyes met his. “We’ve done this, Damon. Time and time again. I would listen to what you and Stefan had to say about things and I still got hurt in the process.”

She wasn’t wrong and Damon knew that. For as many times as they had faced enemies with in the town, Y/N was end up in the crossfire. May it have been from attempting to keep Elena safe or even Damon. She hated that no matter how many times they believed they had won and could leave peacefully, it would never last. 

“You still need to be somewhere else before things go down. Go to his place or wherever it is that you feel like going, but just don’t be here.” It was the way that his eyes softened at his words that made a familiar feeling stir within Y/N’s chest. 

This was how he pulled her in. One moment she could be pissed at him for his actions and all he had to do was give her the look he was now and she’d begin to comply. Compulsion was never necessary with her. Not when she cared enough. 

Her head shook again. “The point of me doing this is to make sure that I am living the life that I want. Not going by things that you need or Elena needs. This is about me now. “

I think I've seen this film before

“You think you aren’t doing things.” Damon began. “But who do you think has been helping out to keep you safe? Who’s been the one to ensure you haven’t ended up dead twice since you decided to leave.”

“I never asked you to!” Her voice raised slightly as she shook her head. “If I am supposed to die, then let it happen. I needed to feel like my human self. I needed the space to be able to breathe again. I couldn’t do that any more. Why are you being so difficult about letting me go?”

Damon ran his hand along his face. “So I’m supposed to live with the fact that you would willingly die even if you were given a warning?”

“Yes.” She said as she crossed her arms over her chest. “You will live with it. Because I’m not changing my mind on this.”

“I can’t let you do that.” He hated the words but they were already out there. 

She chuckled. “Do you even hear yourself? This is the exact conversation that we’ve had plenty of times before. I can’t continue to do this when you only listen to what you want.”

“You know I listen-”

“Stop.” she cut him off. “You didn’t. I said and showed every reason why I no longer wanted to do this. Before the Mikaelsons, after the Travelers, I wanted an out. I wanted to feel like my life wasn’t in someone’s control. And yet at every turn when I felt that I should go and I would tell you, you gave me some kind of reason to stay and do it all over again.”

Damon tried to piece the things she was talking about together. Hazy memories would come to mind of their fights. And in the mix of them yelling at each other, there were the moments where Y/N had told Damon she was leaving. Each time he somehow convinced her to stay. But the hurt that was in her eyes remained until finally one day she left without telling anyone. 

He took a step towards her and she raised her hand up to stop him. He opened his mouth to say something, anything. They looked into each other’s eyes for a moment. A silent conversation between them. One that was familiar. One that was comfortable. At least that was until Y/N turned and looked away, tears beginning to fill her eyes as she took a step back.

“I still love you Damon.” She said after a moment before looking back at him. “But I can’t. I can’t keep this life.” That was the last thing she said before walking away from him. 

Damon stood there for a few moments after she walked away. His hand ran down his face once more. When he turned to leave, he stopped in his tracks at who was standing at the door. Caroline had her hands behind her back, a guilty look on her face. 

“How much of that did you hear?” He asked, slightly annoyed. 

“Most of us heard it from the party.” She said with a slight shrug. “Those of us that were vampires, at least. A particular human though, heard the end of it. Elena is compelling him so that when he gets back to Y/N, he won't remember the argument you two had.”

“Should have just let him go.” Damon said no longer looking at the blonde. 

Caroline sighed. “Believe it or not, she’s happier without us interfering in her life. If you care about her at all, you should let her go.”

Damon’s head snapped back towards her. There was disbelief on his face. Everyone else had simply agreed to let her go. After years of them being in her life, they were willing to throw it all away. 

Damon didn’t think it was possible to do it. And after numerous times of getting her to stay, this time he couldn’t do it. Damon knew that he had lost Y/N. 

And I didn't like the ending

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[ahtsumu]

atsumu: 1, kevin: 0 ; miya atsumu

↳ pairing: miya atsumu x professional women’s volleyball player!reader

↳ synopsis: miya atsumu realises that he’s tired of keeping your relationship “low-key” with a little help from an overzealous fanboy.

↳ genre(s): fluff, humour!!

↳ warning(s): profanity

↳ length: 1.5k words

↳ a/n: surprise!!! lol i have way too many wips rn especially with requests but i wrote this as a little break from all the angst and stuff hence the cheesiness ☺️ enjoy!!

Miya Atsumu was caught in a kerfuffle.

Earlier that day, the twenty-three-year-old setter for the MSBY Black Jackals made the executive decision to come to watch you–– his Mario Kart player number two, his houseplant co-parent, the air-guitarist to his air-drummer, the Karaoke Night pink-lyric-singer to his blue–– kick some volleyball ass in the V. League Division 1 Women's Volleyball Tournament finals. 

The problem?

You played wing spiker for the Schweiden Falkes. 

There was nothing problematic about being a wing spiker on a Division One volleyball team. What was problematic, however, was that the Schweiden Falkes was the sister team of the Black Jackals’ sworn enemy, the Schweiden Adlers. To rub more salt in the wound, the Adlers had won every single game against the Jackals since Atsumu joined (not that they hadn’t prior to his arrival). And to make matters even worse, as one of the nation’s most sought-after athletes, he had to “appeal to both investors and the general population”. Miya Atsumu was supposed to be a marketable bachelor. And he was not.

Miya Atsumu was also not supposed to be at the finals of the women’s volleyball tournament. 

That was the biggest problem of them all. So maybe, actually, Miya Atsumu was mildly ensnared in a few kerfuffles.

The two of you had agreed to keep your relationship low-key from the start and were nearing two years of private, domestic bliss. Questions about each other in interviews were responded to with short and nondescript replies. Outings in public were conducted without physical contact. And despite how Twitter was almost a diary to Atsumu, he’d never once tweeted your name in his life. But as dull as your relationship seemed in public, the two of you were a different story in private. In private, he would find any way to touch you–– a hand in your back pocket, your legs draped atop his thighs, soft lips trailing up from the neck to each other. In private, sweet nothings were proclaimed and not whispered, laughter bubbled like a stream that never ran dry, and Atsumu said your name over and over again like it was habit.

But that didn’t change the fact that, right now, Miya Atsumu was not supposed to be in the nosebleeds of the Sendai City Gymnasium, even if he was hundreds of meters away from the nearest camera.

All the bigger kerfuffles fell quickly to the back of his mind, however, when a smaller and more irritating one presented itself to him. 

A snotty voice declared one row behind Atsumu’s hooded head, “Oi, you’re in the way of the view, jerk.”

Normally, Atsumu would have turned around with an equally cocky sneer on his chiselled features, “the fuck did you just call me?” locked and loaded behind clenched teeth. But when he turned around ready to deliver that exact line, he saw through his black shades that the owner of said snotty voice was none other than a scrawny prepubescent boy.

And that boy (along with the two equally snot-faced twerps beside him) was wearing your jersey number. Suddenly, all the irritation left Atsumu’s face. Was this your little fan club? A wicked cackle threatened to leap out his mouth. They were so annoying. But also, he mused, kinda cute.

“Was I?” he asked with an innocent expression on his face. It was the same one he used when Osamu would accuse him of stealing his clothes (he totally had), or when you would accuse him of eating the last slice of cake in the fridge (he totally did). “I hadn’t realised.” He really hadn’t. He just wanted to milk this for as long as he could.

“Yeah, you were.” The kid crossed his arms, glaring down at the shady guy one row below. “I can’t see the game anymore.”

“Oops–– my bad.”

“Shut up, Kevin, you were watching Y/N!” one of the brats exclaimed, punching Kevin’s shoulder.

Oh? “Yer a fan of Y/N, hmmm?”

“She’s pretty,” Kevin said immediately, shrugging. He just said it out loud like that? So easily? With a subtle wince, Atsumu thought back to the ridiculously long time before he’d admitted his ‘smidge of a crush’ on you. Yeah, unlike you, stupid. “I’m gonna marry her someday.”

At that, Atsumu’s competitive streak jolted awake. He felt himself sober up a little. Not if I marry her first, you little shit.

Bidding the trio goodbye with a bright grin, he turned around and strolled out of the stands. But he didn’t stop there. He stepped into the elevator and rode it straight down to ground level, sailed through the athlete’s entrance with a swipe of his card, and jogged his way to the side of your team bench, making it just in time to see you spike the setpoint past one of their player’s outstretched arms. 

It landed straight on the baseline.

The roar of the stadium scattered into hushed whispers. No one moved. “In,” Atsumu growled under his breath, tapping his feet against the floor. “In in in in in––” He clenched his hands into fists. If they don’t count that as in… 

Finally, the line judge pointed her arms down. The referee nodded.

And all around him, the crowd erupted into cheers.

As confetti fell from above and the Falkes’ victory song began to play, you ran from the court and into a celebratory team hug, screaming ecstatically in each other’s faces. Atsumu, beaming, ducked out of view, not wanting to steal that glorious feeling of a victory hard-earned from you or your teammates. But when the cheering died down, when the hug dispersed, when the television crews started slithering in your direction, he returned to his position behind the bench. And suddenly regretted all the decisions that had led him to that very spot.

Admittedly, Atsumu hadn’t considered the possibility that you wouldn’t want him at your game, but now, standing just metres away from you, he did. His hands suddenly felt very cold and equally moist.

As if on cue, your teary gaze landed on his figure. Your eyes were narrowed in what seemed like a warning. (Really, you were just trying to see better through your tears.)

Oh, no.

Atsumu spun around to make a run for it. At that moment, however, one of the coach’s assistants who’d been sent away to run an errand returned, barrelling through the same door he was heading towards. 

Colliding in a spectacularly embarrassing fashion, Atsumu’s sunglasses flew from his face and his hood blew off from the force of the impact. Disguise in tatters, he could only turn around sheepishly around his hands stretched out, palms up like a magician at the end of a trick.

“Surprise?”

Maybe it was the rush of victory still fresh in your bloodstream or maybe it was simply your brain going haywire, but with complete disregard for you and Atsumu’s original agreement, you ran towards him and leaped into his arms.

“Woah,” he wheezed, instinctively pulling you closer into his chest. “Was not expectin’ that.”

“You’re so stupid,” you murmured, nuzzling your face into his neck. “What are you up to, ‘Tsumu?”

“Unkerfufflin’ myself,” was all he said before gently setting you down. His eyes darted over to the place where Kevin and his gremlins had been and, when he realised that spotting them from here would be useless, lazily flapped a hand in their general direction.

“Some brat said he was gonna marry ya,” Atsumu explained after seeing your brows crease. “I felt I had the duty to save ya from that disaster.”

“By?”

Atsumu blanked. “Er, I, uh, hadn’t thought of that part, actually. I didn’t think you’d be happy to see me here, y’know, considerin’ our agreement and that look on yer face ya had earlie––”

Rolling your eyes, you yanked on his hood, bringing his lips down to yours. His arms snaked around your waist as he deepened the kiss–– he couldn’t help it, it was a knee-jerk reaction by now–– without so much as a second's consideration for the reporters that had swarmed around you like ants to honey. 

You pulled away just a few beats later, both breathless.

“What was that for?” he asked with his forehead pressed against yours. Despite being doused in the blinding flash of cameras and deafened by the barrage of questions shot in your direction, the two of you continued to speak as if you were in your own little world.

“You were about to word-vomit on camera and give Osamu a lifetime’s supply of blackmail,” you replied, giggling. “I thought I’d save you from that disaster.”

Hearing his words come out from your mouth, Atsumu’s eyes waned into little moons. “Consider me saved, doll.”

The noise around you grew louder. You sighed, knowing that the two of you would have a lot to deal with later. As if reading your mind, Atsumu intertwined your hands. I got you. And the unease receded. You’d figure it out together.

“Y/N! Y/N! Are you pregnant?”

“Y/N! Atsumu! When are you two getting married?”

“Can you tell us anything about that steamy kiss?!”

A shit-eating grin crawled onto Atsumu’s face as he grabbed the microphone from that last reporter. “Gladly,” he said, looking into the camera.

“How’s that for bein’ in yer way, Kevin?”

And for the next few hours that the world spent having a meltdown over Kevin’s identity, you and Atsumu remained blissfully tucked away in the comfort of your apartment, playing Mario Kart, baking celebratory cookies to the High School Musical soundtrack, falling asleep to the sound of each other’s heartbeats.

[sisterspooky1013]

Only One Choice, Part 2, Chapter 23

Read it here on AO3 / Tagging @today-in-fic

It doesn’t feel real until she sees the flutter on the ultrasound, the grey and white pixels flashing erratically confirming a healthy ten-week pregnancy. The doctor gives them a due date of September 17th, and she explains to Mulder repeatedly that the due date is only an estimate, that the baby will most likely arrive sometime in the two weeks before or after that day. Nonetheless, he prints little numbers in the corner of each date on the calendar, counting down.

She is lucky to experience very little nausea, but the time saved clinging to the toilet is instead allocated to bursting into tears at every tiny inconvenience. Mulder comforts her with a confused expression when she cries because she can’t find a Tupperware lid that fits, or her latte has too much foam, or she realizes she can no longer see her toes. She cries because she’s crying, because she feels out of touch with her own body and thrown off by her own emotions. They marvel at the growth of her belly as well as her breasts, which are even more sensitive than they were before. Her libido kicks into overdrive at the same time that she becomes incredibly self conscious about her protruding belly, her fuller face, her swelling feet. This leads to more tears as she grapples with both wanting desperately to be touched and not wanting him to look at her.

He tells her each day how beautiful she is, her hair growing longer and thicker, her skin glowing, her rounding belly housing the perfect little life that they created together. When he’s home, he rubs her feet every night, fetches her countless glasses of water and then helps tow her out of the bed so she can pee ten times in the night. When he’s on the road with Monica, he calls three times a day, asks Missy and her mother to go by and check on her, calls in dinner to be delivered so she doesn't have to cook. As her due date nears, he stops going on out-of-town cases, needing to be close enough to be by her side immediately when she goes into labor. He will not risk missing the birth of his child.

The apartment becomes cramped with a bassinet, changing table, pack n play, and various other baby gadgets. They consider moving, but the idea is too overwhelming for Scully so they decide to stay put until the baby becomes mobile and they really need more space. Mulder breaks the lease on his apartment and moves his fish tank into the living room, putting the rest of his furniture in storage until they buy a house. Priscilla breaks in all the baby gear, sleeping in the car seat and jumping into the swing, covering the tiny onesies with her black fur and making Scully cry yet again. Mulder refuses to let her scoop the litter box, even though she insists it’s safe if she wears gloves and washes her hands afterward. Other tasks she’s forbidden to complete include cleaning the toilet, carrying in the groceries and hauling laundry to the washing machine. When he’s on the road, she misses him as much as she is relieved to be able to be independent, not much caring for being treated as though she’s made of glass.

For the majority of her pregnancy, Scully insists that she doesn’t want to know the sex of the baby, that she wants to be surprised. Mulder respects her decision, even though he would personally like to know, and they create two lists of potential baby names, Scully crossing off “Lisa Marie'' each time Mulder tries to add it to the “girl” column. When she reaches 39 weeks, her pelvis widening as the baby drops into the birth canal, she is so miserable that she has a change of heart, needing to feel connected to this thing that is destroying her body and stealing her sleep. They call the doctor together on a Thursday afternoon as Scully sits on the couch in tears, having woken that morning to find angry red stretch marks marring her previously lily-white belly. When Mulder relays the doctor’s message that the baby is a girl, she sobs harder, and he’s not sure whether it’s because she’s happy or disappointed.

She wakes him at 3:00 am on September 21st, the irregular Braxton-Hicks contractions she’s been feeling for weeks having taken up a predictable cadence, now ten minutes apart almost on the dot. He starts rushing around, scrambling for her hospital bag and his shoes, and now it is her turn to provide comfort, to let him know there’s plenty of time. She doesn’t want to go to the hospital until the contractions are five minutes apart, and so they wait. The progression to nine minutes, then eight, then seven is alarmingly fast, and by the time she agrees that they should head to the hospital she’s starting to feel pressure low in her pelvis. Mulder drives too fast, the streets thankfully still quiet in the early morning, and she is wheeled into labor and delivery with not enough time for an epidural, much to her lament.

Molly Katherine Mulder has blue eyes and a dark shock of nearly-black hair. She barely cries at her entrance to the world, instead searching the room with a curious gaze, squeezing her daddy’s finger with an impressively strong grip and latching like a pro. They are able to go home the following day, Scully wincing as she moves gingerly from the bed to the couch, rinsing her tender stitches with a bottle of warm water and bleeding through entire packages of overnight maxi pads in a day.

Mulder takes off work for two weeks and they spend blissful days curled up in bed with the baby nestled between them as Priscilla curiously sniffs around her, licking her hair with a rough tongue and making them laugh. Each time Scully wakes at night to nurse, Mulder insists she go back to sleep while he changes the baby and walks her around the quiet apartment until she is asleep, singing softly and lulling them both.

When Mulder returns to work, Scully insists that he get a full night's sleep and let her wake up with Molly, reasoning that she can take naps during the day. She does not, of course, take naps during the day. Instead she tries to keep the apartment clean, the clothes washed, the diapers taken out to the dumpster, the litter box scooped. She does too much, and he sees it each day as she grows more and more weary, more and more defeated, the bags under her eyes deepening in color and her mouth rarely hosting a smile. He begs her to let him do more, to ask less of herself, but she is stubborn and strong-willed, the very things he loves about her now keeping her from properly taking care of herself.

They struggle through sleep-deprived arguments over who left the breast milk out on the counter all night, why it matters if he changes the baby on the floor instead of the changing table, why Scully doesn’t want to supplement with formula so he can take some of the night feedings. Her doctor releases her as medically clear to have sex after six weeks and she cries as she tells him that she doesn’t feel ready, that she can’t imagine anything worse than sex right now, and he holds her as he tells her that he doesn’t care, that she should take as much time as she needs, that he can wait.

They struggle, and they thrive. Moments of absolute unadulterated joy are punctuated by intense despair and overwhelm. The gain of a family against the loss of a life where you could pick up and go, stay out until 2:00 am and make love in the middle of the day. They are happy, and they are stressed, and they face it together.

On a Saturday in December, Mulder wakes early and takes care of every conceivable task in the house; the laundry, the dishes, cleaning the bathroom, scooping the litter, buying the groceries. He checks every item off Scully’s to-do list and then takes Molly for a long drive, leaving Scully alone with nothing to do in hopes that she will rest for once. When they return from their excursion, he creeps into the quiet apartment with a sleeping baby in his arms and sets her in the bassinet by the couch. At first he thinks maybe Scully has gone out, but he finds her in bed asleep with soaking wet hair, Priscilla curled up behind her knees. He watches her for a bit, affection clutching at his chest, then changes into sweats and kicks Priscilla out so he can snuggle up behind Scully. It feels so infrequent that they just lay like this anymore; one of them is always about to get up with the baby, about to get ready for work, or doesn’t want to be touched after a tiny person has clung to them all day. He pulls in a deep breath, smelling her lavender bubble bath and feeling the rise and fall of her ribs against his chest. He doesn’t want to disturb her, but he can’t resist pressing a tiny kiss to the side of her neck.

“Mmmm,” she hums in response, twisting her body around so they are face to face.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” he whispers.

“It’s okay. Where’s Molly?”

“She’s asleep in the living room.”

She sighs and snuggles closer to him, pressing her forehead into his chest and pushing one of her legs between his.

“This feels nice,” she says contentedly, and he brushes his hand softly up and down her back.

“How are you feeling?” he asks.

“Tired. Frumpy. Like I haven’t put on real clothes or a stitch of makeup in three months,” she laments.

“Well, I’ll give you tired,” he says softly, “but I can’t agree on frumpy. I think you look very beautiful.”

She scoffs against his chest.

“You don’t have to placate me, Mulder. I know I’m a mess.”

“Maybe so, but you’re my mess,” he retorts, pushing his fingers into her hair to gently scratch her scalp.

She tilts her head up to look at him, appraising his face with a skeptical eye.

“Is this what you thought it was going to be like?” she asks, her tone open and vulnerable.

“I don’t know,” he answers honestly, “I guess I didn’t really know what to expect.”

She sighs. “I just wish I knew when I might start to feel like myself again,” she says sadly. “I can’t help but feel like you’re not getting what you signed up for.”

“What do you mean?” he asks with a concerned frown.

He sees her eyes growing glassy, dampening with impending tears. “I mean the woman you asked out in the autopsy bay isn’t the one you’re with now,” she whispers, swallowing against the lump in her throat.

“That’s not even a little bit true,” he implores, cradling the back of her head with his hand. “You are everything you were then, and more. I’m amazed by you every day.”

She closes her eyes, a tear rolling across the bridge of her nose. He feels his chest ache; the need to make her understand is overwhelming.

“Hey,” he says, pulling the blankets back, “come here.”

He pulls her into a sitting position and slides off the bed, towing her along with him to sit on the edge of the mattress. He kneels on the floor between her knees, his hands on her hips.

“If you think for one second that I want to be with anyone but you, you’re fucking insane. I don’t care if you wear giant milk-stained T-shirts and have spit up in your hair for the rest of our lives, Scully. You’re it for me, okay?”

She pulls in a shuddering breath and wipes at her eyes, but won’t look at him.

“Stay here,” he commands, and disappears into the bathroom for a moment. When he comes back, he returns to his post kneeling at her feet.

“We knew this was going to be hard,” he says tenderly, holding one of her hands in his. “You said it yourself before Molly was born, that it would be the hardest time in our lives, and that we’d be at our worst. And I’m telling you that if this is your worst, sign me up, okay? It hasn’t changed how I feel about you.”

He holds up his other hand, a diamond ring perched between his thumb and forefinger.

“If you’re not ready to say yes yet, that’s okay, but I need you to know that I still want to marry you, Scully. I’ll wait forever if that’s what you need, but there hasn’t been a single day since I asked that I haven’t still meant it.”

Her tears have stopped, though her eyes are still wet and the tip of her nose is red. She looks from him to the ring and back, her eyebrows stitched in contemplation.

“I didn’t hear you ask me a question,” she says quietly, and he picks up on the slightest lilt of playfulness in her voice, which makes him break out into a smile.

“Dana Katherine Scully, love of my life, mother of my child, will you marry me?”

She smiles then, and he thinks his heart may burst right out of his chest.

“Yes, I’ll marry you,” she answers, and he takes her left hand, slipping the ring on her finger.

She wraps her arms around his neck and kisses him repeatedly, soft pecks devolving into lingering smooches as he shifts up slightly, pushing her back gently to recline on the bed. He moves over her, kissing along her jaw and down her neck, not going any further, not wanting to rush her.

She brings her hands to his hips, letting the tips of her fingers slip under the waist of his sweatpants, and his cock stirs. It’s been so, so, long, and he wants her desperately, but not until she’s ready. She pushes her hand down the front of his pants, gripping him as he grows hard under her touch. It’s overwhelming in the best way; he feels like a teenager being touched for the first time.

“I wanna have sex,” she breathes into his ear, the words rushing out quickly as though she’s afraid she might change her mind if she waits too long to say them.

He pulls back to look at her. “Are you sure?” he asks, and she nods, bringing her palm to his cheek before glancing at the ring on her finger and smiling.

They move slowly, though still with a sense of urgency that a baby sleeping in the next room brings. He pushes her shirt up and she lets him take it off, then slips the yoga pants off her hips, leaving her in basic black cotton briefs. He sees the hesitancy in her eyes as he looks at her body, now softer than it was before Molly, curvy in different places, purple streaks running from below her belly button to disappear under her panties.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, kissing her chest, her breasts, her belly, running his tongue along the grooves of her stretch marks. He loops his thumbs under the waist of her panties and tugs them down slowly, quickly undressing before he rejoins her in the bed.

“Tell me if anything hurts, okay?” he asks with a serious expression, and she nods, letting her legs fall open as he settles between them. He lines himself up with her entrance and pushes in achingly slowly, watching her face raptly. Her mouth opens slightly, and she takes in a sharp little breath. He’s about to ask her if it hurts when she closes her eyes and her mouth drops open further as she breathes out “oh,” in a way that he knows means pleasure, not pain. When he’s all the way in, their hip bones pressed together tightly, he stills and kisses her for a while, feeling like he could melt into a puddle for how good everything feels. His heart, his mind, his body, he is all wrapped up in her and it’s exactly where he wants to be.

He begins to move, and she responds with an arch of her back and a little gasp, her hands clutching at his shoulders. Little by little, he increases his pace until he knows he won’t last much longer.

“What do you need?” he asks, and she brings her hand to her breast.

He dips his head, flicking at the hardened bud of her nipple, and feels her clench around him. He plays with the level of pressure, licking and sucking, pleasantly surprised that she is enjoying it even as her breasts have taken on a purely functional role these last few months.

She pulls in a huge breath, arching her back and pressing her head into the mattress and he groans as he feels her tighten around him. She emits a single piercing cry when she comes, stifling it with an arm slung across her mouth. He pours into her, burying his face in her neck, clinging to her like a life raft. She is, in fact, all he needs to survive.

Resting half his weight on the mattress beside her, he stays inside as they both come down, panting and smiling, brushing hands over each other’s skin, reconnecting.

“Ah!” Molly yells from the living room, and Mulder laughs.

“You’re being summoned,” Scully says with a tender smile.

He withdraws from her, handing her his T-shirt to clean up while he slips on his sweatpants and retrieves Molly from her bassinet.

“Guess what, Goose?” he says, using his special nickname for her, “Mommy and Daddy are getting married.”

“AH!” She squeals, flapping her arms.

[maximoff-pan]

Just Faking It? | Peter Maximoff x Reader

Summary: When you and Peter enter a fake relationship, what does that do to your friendship? Can you keep yourself from breaking the one rule you set? Do not fall in love. Can he?

Character: Peter Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Fandom: X-Men

Word Count: 2.9k 

A/n: It’s been a hot minute since I posted, but online school has been Kicking. My, Ass. AnyWAy....I am back now! I’m really nervous to post this and I knowwww the ending is trash but it just kept getting worse so (please bear with me). Hopefully my writing will get better. Despite my shitty scribe, I hope you can enjoy this, and maybe, even possibly like it???

Comments and feedback are also very much appreciated! A girl needs inspiration to write (if ya know, ya know).... 

You’re minding your business (in your room mind you) when your door flies open, and in comes a flurry of grey. As quickly as the door is opened, it’s slammed shut. You know exactly who the culprit is, that part is particularly evident to you, but what puzzles you is the absence of a reason for his dramatic entrance. It’s like he thinks you can read his mind or something....(you can, but that’s besides the point). That’s not really what you’re supposed to be using your mutation for and Peter knows that.

“I really fucked up.” He eventually breathes. But it leaves you with more questions than answers.

You tilt your head towards him, squinting your eyes as if to challenge a response from him. So?” You ask.

“What the fuck do you mean?” Widening his eyes, he appears in a minor panic. “I come rushing in here, telling you that I fucked up, and your only response is: ‘so?’”

“Peter, if I had a dollar for every time you told me you fucked up, I’d certainly be the richest telepath in this mansion, and Charles owns this damn place.”

He cranes his neck in frustration, a sigh falling from his lips. “Well this time, I really fucking mean it.”

He’s fidgeting a lot more than usual, and when you glance at him, his eyes dart from yours. If you know anything about Peter, and you like to think you know almost everything about him, you know that based on the way he’s acting, that he didn’t just fuck something up for himself, he’s also fucked something up for you.

Disappointed, but not at all surprised, you ask, “What did you do? And how does it involve me?”

*****

Peter Maximoff has always had a way with words. No matter what he says...nor how fast he says he it, he can always manage to get you to do whatever he wants. Sure, to the average person Peter may be incessantly annoying, but to you, he is overly charming. He’s always just been so....perfect...for a lack of a better term.

And it’s not like you haven’t tried to bury those feelings. You really really have. But every time you’re near each other, your heart beats a little bit faster and your eyes just fixate on him. He draws you in with his infectiously upbeat, care free - who gives a shit it’s the end of the world, let’s just have fun - kinda vibes. It’s intoxicating as fuck....and so, extremely bad for you. But it’s what you need. You actually need him.

So unfortunately (maybe fortunately...it really depends on the day), Peter Maximoff has you whipped like the fucking whiplash he’s always warning you about...and whether he knows that or not is the real question. You hope to God he doesn’t; you’ve tried so damn hard to hide it. It....Them...Your feelings....And this is the trickiest part. You’re not sure when you came to this realization, but: You’re in love with your best friend.....

And honestly....shit...what the fuck feelings??? That is not a good revelation to be having. That’s never a good revelation to be having. And that’s for many fucking reasons, including but not limited to:

He’s your best friend

He’s your best friend

He’s your best friend

Did you mention he’s your best friend? Did you?

To top it all off, your anxiety about what is justifiably a crapshoot of a situation (being in love with your best friend is no cake walk friends...don’t try this at home) has risen ten-fucking-fold. Because you’d do anything for him.

And that’s how you’ve gotten yourself into the inescapable shit storm you have now: fake dating Peter Maximoff....

Look, in all respects, it could be worse. You’re not really sure how, but that’s just what you’re telling yourself to make this whole thing feel a little better. Damn you and being a good friend...You should’ve just said no. But how could you have possibly said it without giving yourself away?

‘Sorry Peter, I’m too busy being in love with you to be your fake girlfriend. Maybe later.’

You just couldn’t do it to him. He needed your help, and there was just no way you could say no to him. He’s your biggest weakness yet your greatest joy in life. He’s your kryptonite.

*****

Peter feels like shit. He thought dating you would be the best thing in the entire fucking universe....and it is. Except for the fact that it’s not real.

When Scott and Jean had called bullshit on Peter for telling them he in fact, does have a girlfriend, (when he really, really doesn’t), he panicked. So he told them the name of the first person he thinks of, the first person he always thinks of: you.

If Peter’s being honest with himsef, the whole conversation was stupid to begin with, and he should’ve just kept his mouth shut. But Peter lives for laughter, particularly making his friends laugh, even sometimes at the expense of a couple of his other friends.

It started off as a slow bit of teasing, and Peter was getting laughs fromJubilee and Kurt, who were both quite enjoying his little comedy fest. Peter in his carefree manner, jabbed joke after joke about Scott being whipped by Jean, mocking their incessant pda and need to be around each other, when Scott threw it back at him.

“Have you ever even had a girlfriend Maximoff?”

And that’s when Peter fucked up.

That’s when he proceeded to say: “Fuck you Summers. If you must know, I have a girlfriend.”

I have a girlfriend...present tense. Which is nothing but a lie. A blatant, blatant lie. But it just slipped out of his mouth, and while Scott and Jean both called bullshit, he couldn’t back down at that point. It was far too late, and would be far too embarrassing to try and weave himself out of the web he had created. So he told them he was dating you, which...fair. You already act like you’re dating 99% of the time, and you are in love with each other (not that either of you knows the other’s feelings on the matter), so it would seem very believable....But the big problem with this blurting of words (as Peter had called it later), laid in the fact that Peter had to do this without your consent. You had no idea nor a choice in being brought into this, and that’s why Peter feels like he’s fucked up so much.

Because as much as he wants to date you, and as much as he loves dating you (even though it’s all pretend), he can’t help but fear that you resent him for bringing you into his problems. If you do resent it, you’re doing a pretty damn good job of hiding it. Every person that has passed by you, the news of your relationship spreading fast, has told you: it was only a matter of time. And then they’d smirk at you, seemingly proud that they had predicted this all along.

And yet, it’s all fake, and all your classmates and teachers, (except Charles...because he knows the both of you too well and honestly is too fed up with your shenanigans to intervene), are wrong. They’re being fooled...but Peter can’t help but wonder if he’s the one being fooled. Because it feels so real. Too real.

*****

He holds your hand in the halls, swinging your arm back and forth teasingly, telling himself that he’s only keeping up appearances, and yet his whole aura brightens. Peter’s not acting, and the fact that you are genuinely scares him. Because you’re so believable, and it hurts so much to have you, but to know it’s all a lie.

“I guess I owe it to you Maximoff.” Scott sneaks in between you two, breaking not only your hands apart, but popping the blissful bubble you had been in. “I’ve never seen two people so right for each other.”

The smile drops from Peter’s face, but like always, you’re there to save him. “I know.” You send Scott a sly grin. “You never should have doubted us.”

Us, Peter thinks. He knows you mean it, in the sense that you’re best friends, but it only hurts him more. The frown on his face tightens, as he attempts to avoid your gaze. He can feel you pulling him into your side, wrapping your arms around him. This action snaps an automatic response, and his lips pull into a soft smile, his face relaxing.

“Never will again.” Scott smiles fondly at the two of you, seemingly genuinely happy for you.

You place a kiss on Peter’s cheek, nearly grazing the corner of his mouth, and in that moment he wants you to kiss him, for real this time. It’s an urge he’s had before, but never as innate as this.

On instinct, he turns your body so that you’re facing him, and he kisses you. It’s instantaneous and it feels so so right. Your initial shock fades away and you lean into the kiss, your arms gracefully resting on Peter’s shoulders, slowly wrapping loosely around his neck. You raise onto the tips of your toes, desperately yearning for more. It feels like a tidal wave washing over you, soaking you in a plethora of feelings.

This has to be something, you think. What you have...it must mean something. Because you can feel his energy, his thoughts and desperations pouring into your mind. His exact thoughts are blurred, but you can feel the emotions that are flooding through.

“Jeez. Message sent.” Scott mumbles with a slight joking tone in his voice. “I’ll never make that mistake again.”

By the time you let each other go, Scott is retreating down the hallway, and you stare sheepishly at each other, both of you wondering: what the fuck was that?

*****

Nearly half an hour later, you’re once again sitting on your bed, when Peter comes barging through your door. A strong sense of déjà vu washes over you, your eyes quickly darting to his. To Peter, that half an hour feels like multiple. You should have remembered that his internal clock works a lot differently than yours.

The expression on his face is pained. “I’m sorry.” He blurts out. “I know I fucked up.”

“Peter-“ you try to interject, but it’s no use.

“I don’t know what I was thinking (Y/n). I just...I didn’t mean to. It was a mistake and I didn’t mean to drag you into my shit...”

It was a mistake. Your heart drops. You could have sworn that there was something between you, that it wasn’t as one sided as you had once thought.

“Do you regret it?” You’re trying to convey a front on neutrality, but it feels like it’s faltering.

“Of course.” He replies, and your heart shatters further.

“Oh.”

Your voice sounds so dejected that Peter has to rewind the tone of your ‘oh’ in his mind. Did you think it meant something? Did it mean to you as much as it means to him?

“(Y/n).” His eyebrows raise in conflict. “I didn’t mean-“

“It’s alright Pete...I understand.” You’re warm with him. You think he’s just turned you down, and you’re being so kind to him, trying to make it easier for him. Little do you know about the war he’s fighting in his mind. Just how much he wants to tell you how he feels. “It was silly of me to even entertain that it meant anything.”

But it did! But it does! He wants so badly to say, but the words won’t come out of his mouth. Blurting words before he could think of the repercussions was what had gotten him into this situation, and now that he needs to blurt what he’s thinking, his mouth can’t seem to move.

You can see the look on his face. He feels guilty. He doesn’t want to hurt you. It was foolish of you to say yes to him, to being his fake girlfriend, when you knew this would happen.

“Peter, I’m sorry.” You’re really trying to demonstrate to him how much you hope this hasn’t ruined your relationship. “It’s okay. I’m so okay, as long as we can still be friends.”

“No!” That’s the one fucking word that Peter is able to get out of his mouth? No?

Your eyes drop to the floor, and you avoid his gaze. Just a few days earlier Peter had been talking about just how much he’d fucked up, now you guess it’s you who’s the one that fucked up.

“Oh.”

And there’s that dejected ‘oh’ again that has Peter reeling. “That’s not what I meant!” He pushes the words out.

You’re becoming more and more flustered, embarrassed, and confused by the moment. “I don’t know what you want from me Pete! Just be fucking straight with me. That’s all I ask.”

Your frustration is understandable and Peter knows it...does he ever. He’s thinking, trying to get the words to come out when an idea comes to him, and he finally is able to calmly state: “Read my mind.”

Now this is a complicated statement for a number of reasons. The first reason is quite simple. When you became friends, you and Peter had made a set of rules, promising to always be open with each other, and to never use your powers on each other. And that was Peter’s biggest rule: never read my mind. Now he’s telling you to, pleading you to, because it’s the only way he can tell you how he feels. His thoughts could never lie to you, they could never hide from you if you didn’t want them to.

And second, breaking that rule would mean breaking that promise. It goes against the very foundation of your friendship, and so for Peter to ask this of you, it must mean that he has something very important to say. You’re just not sure you’re brave enough to hear it...

“Peter,” you question, tilting your head in absolute confusion, as if to say to him, are you sure?

“Read my mind.” He affirms. A look of panic crosses your features, and when he sees the distressed you are, he nods gently. “It’s okay. I promise. You can do it.”

You nod your head, signaling to him that you’re going to do it. “Okay.” You say timidly, entering the complex of his mind.

You’re flooded with memories of the two of you together, laughing and beaming with happiness. Pushing through the visuals, you reach his thoughts, allowing your mind to hear them clearly. After years of blocking them out instinctively, it feels so foreign to open that door.

‘I love you.’ It’s Peter’s voice in your mind. It’s unmistakable, yet so surreal that you almost miss what he says...almost. ‘I’m in love with you.’

Your eyes blink open in shock, pulling yourself so suddenly out of his mind, the door to his thoughts slamming shut once again. He’s watching you patiently, waiting for your response. But Peter’s never really been one for waiting.

“I never wanted it to be fake you know.” He breaks the silence for you. “If I had known just how hard it would be to fake our relationship, I never would have thought of saying your name in the first place.”

A chuckle of relief bubbles from your throat. “You better not be fucking with me...”

“I’d never do that.” He says.

“I beg to differ.” You joke, eyes staring softly into his. “The amount of times you’ve fucked with me on shit is insurmountable.”

“Hmm.” He grins menacingly. “And yet, I’ve never fucked you.” He raises one eyebrow in a mockingly seductive manner. Only Peter would make a sex joke to lessen the tension...or to ruin what would’ve been a perfectly romantic moment....you’re not really sure which.

You nearly choke on your own laugh. “Already jumping to third base Pete? Last time I checked, you were only on first.”

“That’s cause I’m so fucking fast baby.” His wink sends you into an internal conflict. and you don’t know if it’s really funny, or really hot. His eyes are pouring into yours, as if daring you to just kiss him...

...So you do. Your arms fly up to wrap around his neck as you pull Peter’s lips onto yours. He melts into your embrace almost instantly, a giggle bubbling in your mouth as he moves his hands up from your waist.

He pulls away with a dumbstruck smile on his face, his silver hair flopping in all directions. “I want to make this real.” He places a hand softly on your cheek.

“I do too.” You reply, hopefully.

His eyes soften at the sight of you. “Be my girlfriend? For real this time?”

“For real this time.” You nod, a grin stretching across your face.

And it’s truly the most at peace you’ve ever felt in your life. Which will probably last all of five seconds before Peter comes running back to you, telling you he’s fucked something up again, but that doesn’t matter to you, as long as you have each other.

“Maybe, for once in my life,” Peter’s voice is low and calm, “I didn’t fuck something up.”

Maybe for once in his life, Peter Maximoff had gotten something right...

*****

Tags:

@idjitdestiel @what-the-stories-have-foretold @lucyqueenofthestars @justsomerandomjunk @cherikxstucky @scorpionchild81

[bonny-kookoo]

Bunny Boy Cases: “how far would you go?” (⚠️❤️☁️🔪) JJK x Reader

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Yandere!AU, Psycho!AU, Angst, Romance, Mature!

Tags/Warnings: Strong Yandere themes, Stockholm Syndrome, Our favorite psycho boy, drowning, Suffocation, twisted romance, very dark themes, please read with caution!

Summary: Do you love him?

I do not condone this behavior at all. Please keep in mind that this is a work of fiction. Thank you.

Jungkook knew of your love for the sea. Of course he did; there was barely anything he didn't know by now about you.

He also knew exactly how to keep you at his side by now.

Of course you were dependent on him- he never let you out by yourself after all. He was the hand that fed you, that cared for you, that gave you comfort and punishment when needed. But you were also, deep down, very smart. You knew this was not what a normal relationship was like- which was why he guilt-tripped you whenever he could.

And it wouldn't even be a lie.

There was no hope to survive for him, not without you.

So there you two were, in his car, with him driving, and you at his side. You were excited, but you so adorably tried to hide it. He could however spot your leg umping up and down a few millimeters every now and then- and the look you threw out the window, the way your spine straightened, told him the truth about your feelings. "Excited, Angel?" He asks with a chuckle, and you sit down a little smaller in your seat.

He loves to see the effect he has on you.

"It's okay for you to be." He states, feeling your gaze on him. "After all.. it's been a while that we've been out, right?" He says, voice a bit wavering and paired with a sheepish smile to portray you that he's feeling guilty about it. He isn't.

"no no!" You say, and he let's a sigh slip- not necessarily to feed the idea of his bad feelings, but out of bliss. He bathes in the fact that you're so bewitched by him; and its only fair like this, isn't it? After all, you do the same to him. Luckily for him, you take his exhale as what it wasn't intended. "Seriously Koo, I understand. I'm happy we'll have a vacation together!" you say, and he smiles. His arm reaches out, running over your hair as if to pet a dog- and you don't even see the demeaning gesture as that. You simply take it, smile, and he couldn't be more glad about it.

You've truly become his.

Parking his car, he's happy to notice that you wait for him to open your car door instead of doing it yourself. He does so of course, watching with hawk eyes how you shrink in on yourself as soon as your shoe steps onto the pavement outside. You're so unsure, so small, so vulnerable- every second glance you take is directed at him, and he feels euphoric about it.

This is only for your safety. He's only helping you. He's keeping you safe. He's protecting you.

Jungkook doesn't have to unpack much stuff- you're not going to stay at a hotel anyways. Firstly because he can't afford it no matter how badly he want's to, and secondly, because he doesn't trust hotel rooms. What if there are spy cams installed? He knows himself, after all, how easy they are installed and hidden. There's no way he's gonna take on that risk.

Your sleeping body was for his eyes only.

"Where can I change, koo?" You ask, and he smiles at you, pulling out a towel.

"Right here Angel." He says, finding the scandalized look on your face amusing. "I'll hold the towel around you; it's not like I haven't seen you before now, is it?" He hums the last part with something alike to a purr lacing his voice. It makes you shy, paints your cheeks red, and he can't swallow down his chuckle that escapes him. Hesitantly you let him hold the towel as you avoid his gaze.

He's become very patient, he notices. His self control has gone up significantly these past months- because if he looks back on your relationship, there were surely times where he could have never stared at your exposed flesh without giving into the urge of ravishing you on the spot. Maybe it's the still slightly visibly bite marks on your collarbones that soothe his inner demons to stay calm- he may never know. But once you have changed into a bathing set that can only be described as sinful, he wraps the towel around you. "Keep it like this Angel. Don't want you to be seen like this, okay?" He says, and you nod.

"Can you tie my hair up for me?" You ask, and he smiles brightly at this. Every request you have for him he bows down to.

"Of course." He says, accepting the hair tie you give him, and softly turns you around so he can collect all of your hair into one hand. He's careful, gentle, it's quite hard to imagine the things he's done with these hands.

The things he's capable of.

But you swallow these thoughts down, simply letting yourself be swept away by the moment itself. It's been so long since you've last been outside this much. You want to keep this as a good memory to yourself; after all, who knows when the next time will be?

Jungkook himself doesn't seem to care much about who could see him- having put on his swimming trunks underneath his sweatpants already before he had started driving, he's quick to change. He closes the car, the driver's door needing a second attempt to close properly before he can lock it properly. He should really invest into a new one, he knows that- but cars are expensive, and he can fix it himself anyways.

He'll keep it until its broken.

Just like he keeps you at his side, while walking towards the small hidden spot that he had scouted out for the two of you. There's not many people currently swimming; after all, he had done his research. It was a Monday, and the time was perfect too. Everyone else was at work or home- the perfect timing for him and you to have some time just for yourselves.

"Can I shed the towel now?" You ask, and he smiles at you.

Always so sweet.

"Of course angel. We came here to swim, didn't we?" He says, and you nod, eyes sparkling with excitement as he follows you into the waters. He keeps an eye on you at all times, leads you behind a large boulder; successfully hiding you from any spying eyes out there. The waves are a little more present at this spot, but that's fine with him- it's not enough to be dangerous yet. Your body, compared to him, is already floating as you hold onto his shoulders; and it gives him a weird feeling of power over you. He watches your feet trying to keep you afloat- your fingers pressing down on his skin to hold onto him, and your eyes finally meeting his.

He's entranced.

"Say, Angel.." He speaks, words flowing out of his mouth without his will. "Do you love me?"

The question is asked almost daily. It holds so much meaning not only for him, but for you as well. It's a question you could never imagine to answer with a 'no'- there was always just one answer to ever be said.

"Of course I do." You say, and he smiles.

But this time, there's suddenly something else behind his gentle grin sent towards you. There's something dark, something rabid- something you've seen before. It's as if he shifts persona's sometimes. As if he's turning into someone you don't quite know.

"Would you do anything for me?" He asks, melodic, as if he was a siren ready to bewitch you. He's sure to let his demanding question be followed by a softer tone, however. "I would do anything for you, you know that, right Angel?" He says, and you nod.

You're already enchanted as you answer. "Of course I'd do anything, Koo.." You mumble out, and his smile widens as he leans forward.

You're sure that his lips are going to meet yours, and you already close your eyes. But he's not kissing you; his lips move beside your ear, as he purrs something into it, barely heard over the sound of waves and seagulls around you.

"Would you drown for me?"

It all happens so fast after that, the seagulls, the waves, the short moment that you can hear a truck pass by nearby on the roads; it's all gone a second after, vision blurred and disrupted by bubbles as you need a moment to clear it again. You can see him, as serene as ever above you, his eyes staring at your form, his gentle hands, the hands that so carefully tied your hair together just half an hour ago pushing you down, as you hold your breath. He's still smiling, the edges of his lips still turned upwards as he seems to scan you for a moment. That's when you notice it too.

You're not struggling.

And it dawns onto you in that moment that there's a reason you don't. Apart from him, you have nothing left; there's no friends worried about you, no family left for you to return to, no job you could take on at this point. All you have is him. The reason you're alive is not because you've been born into this world.

You're alive because he let's you.

You exist because he allows it.

You watch him get closer as your lungs start to burn, his lips pressed onto yours as he quite literally steals your breath away. It's only when your eyes grow droopy, your skin gets tingly, and your vision starts to darken around the edges like TV static creeping in on you, does he finally push the two of you up again.

You breathe heavily, your lungs hurt, your throat scratchy as if you swallowed sandpaper. He holds you close throughout it, gentle hands running over your back as he speaks to you in a warm and comforting voice. You don't understand his words yet, hands clinging to him as you press your forehead against the inside of his shoulder. You can feel his chest move as he chuckles, ears finally working again as the seagulls and waves return to you.

"I love you so much." He speaks, as if nothing happened just seconds before. "Don't ever forget that." Are his last words, before he presses a kiss to the side of your face.

You'll never forget that.

You'd rather die.

[xlostinobsessionsx]

Everything has changed | Charlie Gillespie

Pairing: Charlie Gillespie x female Reader

Word Count: 2,854

Warnings: None, just tooth-rotting fluff

Hello, lovely fantoms! 👻💞

I’ve written my first Charlie Gillespie imagine ever. It’s been a while since I’ve last written anything. Furthermore I’ve never written anything in English because it’s not my native language.

A really really big thank you goes to @bass-ic-deaky 💕

Thank you for going out of your way to not only correct my syntax and grammar but also to even writing an entire part of it and making it way more emotional! (A/N: She refined the airport scene and now it makes me cry!) 💗

I hope you enjoy it!

(It’s based on the song Everything has changed by Taylor Swift ft. Ed Sheeran)

Masterlist

The first season of Julie and the Phantoms had been a huge success. It wasn’t long after for the second season to be announced. Kenny Ortega wanted to support even more young talent this time and had decided to give young songwriters a chance to write a song for the show. When (Y/N) had learned about this, she quickly had sent drafts of some of her songs to the executives in charge. (Y/N) couldn't believe it when she was invited a few weeks later to go to Vancouver to become part of the show. (Y/N) was not only allowed to attend the vocal coaching and the recordings of the songs, but also to be present during the shooting of the scenes for which she had written the song. The song was used for one of the performances of the band Julie and the Phantoms so (Y/N) hung around a lot with Madison and the boys. They all got on very well and (Y/N) liked each of them a lot. However she had to admit to herself that she had a crush on the canadian. Just a little one. Alright, maybe a big one, but she would never admit it.

(Y/N) always brought her guitar to set, so that she could play a bit in between takes. She was sitting apart from the actors, who were eating lunch, not feeling that hungry today. Not playing too loud to prevent her from disturbing anyone, (Y/N) lightly strummed her guitar strings before softly, she began to sing. 

All I knew this morning when I woke

Is I know something now, know something now I didn't before

This was how (Y/N) had felt the first morning on set. She had been so nervous that she had been trembling slightly. What if the cast didn’t like her song? Even if she had been afraid, she knew that this was a unique chance. It had been a step out of her comfort zone and she had been aware that a lot of new things would be coming her way. 

And all I've seen since 18 hours ago

Is green eyes and freckles

And your smile in the back of my mind making me feel like

The first time her eyes had met the ones of the young actor (Y/N) couldn’t stop thinking about him. From day one Charlie had been incredulously nice to her, trying to make her feel comfortable on set. He had made sure to let her know how much he liked the song she had written for the show. At the end of the first day she had gone home with a big smile on her face, thought of Charlie clouding her mind. 

I just want to know you better, know you better, know you better now

(Y/N) had wanted to know more about him. And with every new bit of information she got from him about himself, her interest only grew and her heart beat faster and faster. 

Suddenly, someone sat down next to her. She looked up, slightly startled. Charlie chuckled “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you. That sounded really good.” He complimented her with a wide smile. (Y/N) felt her cheeks turning crimson. “Is it yours? That song I mean.” He asked curiously. 

(Y/N) nodded, hoping that Charlie hadn’t heard much of the lyrics. “Yeah, but it’s not finished yet. I can't seem to get any further from there.” She sighed. 

“I could help you!” The young actor offered joyfully, as he quickly took the last bite of his pizza before wiping his hands as he turned to her. 

“Uhm, you don’t have to.” (Y/N) nervously answered, feeling her face heat up further. She knew her feelings were unreciprocated and working with him on a song would only make things worse. 

“Come on, it’ll be fun!” Charlie smiled brightly at her. 

She paused, taking in his bright smile and the sincerity within his eyes. “Okay, fine.” (Y/N) gave in. 

“Play the beginning again.” Charlie requested. (Y/N) took a deep breath, hoping the actor also won’t notice that it was about him. She started to play the song from the beginning and slowed to a stop at the same spot she did before. Charlie looked thoughtfully at her. “Hmmm, okay. So if I got this right, it’s a love song, right?” He asked her. (Y/N) nodded shyly. “Well, if you tell a story about two people meeting for the first time, why not go on from there? May I?” He pointed at the guitar. (Y/N) gave it to him relieved he didn’t catch up on her feelings for him yet. Slowly the actor started to play a few chords until he settled for a melody fitting the one she had played before.

Cause all I know is we said hello

His eyes met hers, a big smile forming on his lips.

And your eyes look like coming home

All I know is a simple name

He slowly came to a stop, unable to think of the next line. (Y/N) hoped he would just never stop singing to her. “What do you think of that?” Charlie interrupted her thoughts. 

(Y/N) cleared her throat, shaking out her thoughts. “It sounds really good.” She complimented with a smile. “Could you maybe start again and this time end with G?” She asked him. Charlie nodded and started to play and sing the same part again he had just made up.

'Cause all I know is we said hello

And your eyes look like coming home

All I know is a simple name

Everything has changed

(Y/N) sang when Charlie played the G-chord. He looked up at her surprised. “Wow, this is amazing! The line is so fitting! Everything has changed, (Y/N) you’re a genius!” He exclaimed with a grin that stretched from ear to ear. 

(Y/N) giggled, happy that Charlie liked it. “Thanks, Charlie.” She smiled brightly at him. With a nod Charlie started to play again. 

All I know was you held the door

(Y/N) suggested, still remembering when Charlie had held the big doors that led inside the massive building with all the sets inside open for her. Charlie nodded encouraging her to continue but the words that almost left her lips next were too much. Instead Charlie continued, eyes never leaving hers. 

And you'll be mine and I'll be yours

All I know since yesterday

Is everything has changed

He finished the chorus. Shocked, (Y/N) looked at him with big eyes. It was like Charlie had read her thoughts. But he couldn’t have. He was just trying to write a love song. He couldn’t feel the same about her! They just stared into each other’s eyes. A soft smile was forming on Charlie’s lips, so contagious that when it made any panic she felt go away, she had to smile herself. They were really having a moment, but all moments must come to an end. “We need you two on set again.” Kenny informed them from across the room. Charlie nodded at Kenny and rose from his spot next to her. The actor held out his hand for her. “You good to go?” He asked her. (Y/N) nodded and took his hand following him into the halls where they were filming the next scene.

Soon, it was (Y/N)’s last day on set. The scene in which her song was sung had been recorded. She said her goodbyes to everyone, one by one. “We have something for you!�� Madison smiled at her. “So that you won’t forget us.” She gave (Y/N) a small box. Carefully, (Y/N) opened it. Inside was a necklace with a small pendant, which looked like a dahlia. 

Tears were forming in (Y/N)’s eyes as she looked up at the cast, all grinning widely at her. “Thank you all so much for everything!” She hugged each of them goodbye. Charlie had insisted on taking her to the airport. They slowly walked through the halls, taking their time, wanting to spend every moment they had left with each other. Slowly, (Y/N) turned to face him when they arrived at security, as far as Charlie could go with her. A small sad smile was visible on his lips. “I’m gonna miss you.” (Y/N) admitted shyly. 

Immediately she was pulled into a tight hug. “I’m gonna miss you more.” Charlie mumbled quietly into the crook of her neck. Slowly they pulled back from the hug, Charlie’s hands were still firmly situated around her waist, sending an electric jolt through her body. They looked deeply into each other’s eyes, each sparkling with a certain emotion neither could place. (Y/N) felt her heart pounding wildly as she saw his eyes flick downward. Did she just witness his gaze wander to her lips? No, that must’ve been her imagination. There was no way he liked her like that, but even still there was no denying the chemistry between them, the magnetism that pulled them toward one another. He was all she could see. (Y/N) could’ve stayed there forever with Charlie. Even as people hustled about the pair, all shouting, all rushing to catch their planes, it felt as though they were the only two people in the world. It was just them in their moment of pure bliss. All that mattered in this moment was Charlie, and him alone. She felt her heart speed up as she subconsciously found herself, just as Charlie had, leaning in closer to the actor. They were well and truly going to share a moment. But all moments must come to an end. “Flight AA73 will be boarding at gate 77 in forty-five minutes.” A voice came over the loudspeaker announcing details of her flight, effectively breaking their bubble of bliss.

“Your flight is going to depart soon, too.” He sighed, offering her a crooked smile. She nodded, a pang of sadness radiating through her chest. Slowly and reluctantly, he let her go, hands lingering on her for as long as physically possible, so she could go through security. As she neared the metal detectors (Y/N) turned around one last time to see the brunette still standing there. Her (e/c) gaze caught his. He offered her one last grin, sadness barely evident on his face as he waved. She returned the smile, returning a small wave before she disappeared from his sight. During her flight, (Y/N) tried to keep her mind busy, trying with great effort to not think about Charlie. Reading a book, watching a movie, listening to music, none of it helped. Her thoughts always returned to the brunette actor and that sweetly goofy grin of his. Every time she closed her eyes he was there, preventing her from falling asleep. 

Once (Y/N) got home, she put her suitcases in a corner before flopping down on her bed. Tiredly, she looked at her phone, which showed that she had received several messages. “Hope your flight was good and that you arrived home safely. Can’t wait to see you again!” Madi had sent her. Owen and Jeremy also had sent her messages, but one particular  message caught her eyes. 

Come back and tell me why

I'm feeling like I've missed you all this time

Her heart was pounding so quickly, it felt as though it would jump out of her chest at any moment. Did Charlie maybe feel the same way? It was hopeless even if he did, she would probably never see him again. Only if she visited him or the other way around. Such a meeting would come about in a few weeks. Until then, (Y/N) could only dream of at that moment. 

Once they finished the filming of season two, Charlie was back in Los Angeles. He immediately called her. “Hey, how have you been?” He asked her excitedly. 

“Good so far. Missing the time on set though.” She replied, glad to hear his voice again. 

“We missed you, too!” He told her, a smile tugging on his lips. “I missed you.” He added quickly after. “I actually missed you so much that I might’ve bought a ticket for you to come visit me in LA, you know, because you said you’ve never been.”

“You did what?” She asked in disbelief. 

“Yeah, I’m gonna send it to you. And...now it should be in your e-mail.” She could hear his smile through the phone. (Y/N) opened up her mailbox and sure enough, there was a message from Charlie. 

“You’re crazy!” She exclaimed. 

The boy on the other end of the line laughed. “See you in three days!” 

Los Angeles was great but spending time with Charlie was even better. (Y/N) had planned to stay at least a week so they had enough time together. Charlie first had shown her around his neighbourhood, taking her around all his old haunts. They had been to the beach together and had eaten at all of his favourite restaurants and cafes. But what she adored most about her trip was doing ordinary, usually mundane tasks together like cooking or watching a movie in the evening or even just jamming out a bit. Sometimes (Y/N) thought that this was how it would be to be in a relationship with him. “I’m going to run to the grocery store real quick.” He informed her one evening. (Y/N) was sitting on his couch scrolling through Netflix, trying to find a movie they could watch later. She nodded. “Do you need anything?” He asked her. (Y/N) shook her head. “Okay, I’m gonna hurry. Don’t do something stupid while I’m gone!” 

(Y/N) giggled softly. “Shouldn’t I saying that to you? You’re the chaotic one.” 

Charlie laughed. “Yeah yeah, I know. Be back soon.” He said while closing the door. (Y/N) huffed, not able to find a film they could watch. She decided to wait for Charlie to come back so that they could choose one together. She reached for her guitar she specifically brought to play together with Charlie. Softly she began to sing.

'Cause all I know is we said hello

And your eyes look like coming home

All I know is a simple name

Everything has changed

All I know was you held the door

And you'll be mine and I'll be yours

All I know since yesterday

Is everything has changed

Come back and tell me why

I’m feeling like I’ve missed you all this time

And meet me there tonight

Let me know that it’s not all in my mind 

When Charlie had sent her the message she couldn’t get it out of her head for days so she decided to include it in the song. (Y/N) was so engrossed that she hadn't heard the front door open. Charlie was already back and standing behind her. “Did you finish the song? I thought we wanted to finish it together! And was that the message I sent you when you went back home?” He rambled with a furrowed brow. 

(Y/N) turned to look at him with wide eyes, her cheeks taking a faint shade of red. “Charlie I - “ She began. 

The actor took a seat next to her. “Why did you put it in the song? I mean it fits the entire love story thing because it sounds like a confession but…” He trailed off as he realised what he had said, his eyes grew wide. He had the feeling that he might have just admitted how he felt towards her. His cheeks turned crimson. 

“Wait….are you - “ (Y/N) cleared her throat, which suddenly felt quite dry. “Are you saying you like me?” She asked, the hope inside of her started to grow. Maybe he did feel the same way after all. 

“No! Charlie quickly exclaimed. Suddenly (Y/N)’s eyes grew sad. “I mean...maybe…” The actor quickly back peddled. “What if I am?” He nervously rubbed his neck. 

“Well, uhm…” (Y/N) nervously fumbled with her hair “If you are then I would too…maybe… even though I don’t really have to because the entire song is one, I guess.” She shyly shrugged. 

Charlie`s eyes grew wide “Wait...are you saying the song is about me? About us?” A big smile formed on his lips. (Y/N) nodded slowly making Charlie sighed, absolutely relieved. “May I?” He pointed to the guitar. She nodded handing it to him. He took it from her and placed it on the ground. (Y/N) looked confused at him. “It would have been in the way.” Charlie explained quietly as he gently grabbed her face, pulled her close to meet him in a soft, tender kiss. 

Slowly they detached from one another, each smiling brighter than the other. (Y/N) chuckled “I can’t believe you feel the same!”. 

“Well, I thought I let you know that it’s not all in your mind.” He quoted her. 

(Y/N) laughed. “What do you think?” Charlie picked up her guitar and gave it to her. 

He reached behind him where his guitar lay and placed it in his hands. “Should we play the song again? Together?” (Y/N) nodded joyfully. She took a deep breath, still trying to register what just had happened. Charlie smiled softly at her “You good to go?”

[prose-for-hire]

Right on time

Pairing: Spike x reader; Faith x reader [reader dates men & women]

Request: Not requested. I’m trying to write whatever’s coming into my head even if it isn’t my best so that I can be inspired to write something potentially better for a fic someone’s requested lolll. Requests will still be written but they may be a little slower than normal sorry 💖

Desc: Reader was in a relationship with Faith but since she was in a coma the reader turned to Spike for comfort and feelings begin to grow.

Warning: Sex references; set in hospital; mention or discussion of a kind of loss. swearing.

The walls appeared to be closing in again. The noise around you lulled every so often with a sombre silence. The hollowed eyes of loss surrounded you but had no reason to look your way. They were all stuck in their own minds. A funeral march in the making.

The occasional laughter bubbled up, from those that clutched hope so desperately their knuckles were perpetually white. It didn’t feel right in this place though, it was a surreal room that held both the impending horror and delight depending on what the doctor said next. You could nearly taste it in the air it was that strong. The mixture of such strong emotions blanketed the room in a thick tension. A kind of purgatory.

You were sitting in the adjoined café to the hospital coaxing your mug to give you some answers when you didn’t even know what questions to ask. You stared into your mug, wishing it could offer you come kind of comfort. The human touch you craved just couldn’t be replicated. Her touch. It had been so long now that you had almost given up.

Faith was in a coma. The only woman you had ever fallen in love with couldn’t open her eyes. Could barely breathe on her own. She shouldn’t be lying there. She didn’t deserve that, no matter the choices she made. She didn’t deserve to end her days this way. Or any way, in your opinion.

When you had been together, just the two of you it had been so good. You redefined the meaning of love together. You were unapologetically each other’s. You promised forever and she had been taken away from you.

She had confided in you in a way that she couldn’t with anyone else. You shared hushed whispers, swapping your pasts beneath the sheets together. You had loved her when she lived out of a motel and you had loved her just the same when she lived in her apartment that the Mayor had bought for her.

She could be so soft when she wanted to be. Holding you into her and not letting the cruel world touch either of you. You were completely embraced by her adoration and you just hope that she felt the same.

That she knew that you would rather be in her place. That you loved her just as much now as you did the first day you whispered those words to her. Your skin on hers, wrapped in a sheet as the afternoon stretched out before you. It had been such bliss.

You still visited every Friday. Held her hand and told her that you love her. Spoke to her, told her everything about your life. Everything except…

Spike. He appeared before you just as your mind turned to him. As it often did, recently. You squinted, thinking he must have followed you.

This was unlike him anymore. He would usually wait around the crypt or in the alley around the back of the Bronze for you to decide the inevitable. That you would spend the night with him. Losing yourself in his touch. Fucking him until you could almost forget her. But you never did, of course.

You both knew the arrangement, don’t get attached. Don’t stay for breakfast (or dinner, should it be that way around). It suited you both. It was for comfort, you had both found yourselves increasingly isolated. On the peripheries of the Scoobies whilst still being hauled back in to help when they remembered you both existed. Still, there was no warmth from them. None of them trusted either of you.

You turned to each other, shielding from the cold. The loneliness that seeped in no matter how you tried to protect yourselves. The reality was that you needed each other. These nights were necessary. The sex was good, you both knew you couldn’t get better anywhere else.

Admittedly though, more recently you became more and more present in those moments. Where you wouldn’t leave as soon as you finished. You had been shuffling away without a word passing between you. Not so much as a thank you, come again.

No, you now didn’t even put up the pretence of going to the Bronze first. You found your way to him as soon as you could. You found yourself increasingly enjoying his presence. Which was something you hadn’t consciously found yourself feeling since Faith got hurt. Enjoyment. Maybe even happiness. In a strange way, Spike made you feel more than you could remember feeling.

One evening, you stayed up the entire night. Talking. His mind spoke to you. A connection that was fast becoming unbreakable since. Neither of you even suggested more and you hadn’t realised this until the morning came and you woke up with his arms draped around you. It was a soft intimacy that you hadn’t found yourself expecting but now it was happening you only wanted more of it.

More of him.

You hadn’t realised but Spike had been falling even before that night. He had a taste of you. Your body and mind. He saw the ugliest parts of you, the guilt and the sadness that you tried to conceal and loved you wholly.

He wanted to comfort you. Wanted to protect you from your sadness. From the guilt you held for even having a single moment of happiness when Faith no longer could.

He couldn’t help loving you, the way you spoke even in your sadness was appealing to him. You were a strong person although it was a task for him trying to get you to reveal how you truly felt.

It started to upset him, when you were upset. He found his mood lifted and fell depending on how you felt. On how you spoke about yourself. He was in love with you. All in. He was a fool for love. Or, more, a fool for you.

He so wanted you to see what he did. How he adored you so. That you were truly a gift to the world. That you were the reason he got up in the evening. On the promise of being close to you.

You kept things bottled up, held tightly to your chest. You didn’t tell him but you felt guilty, what with Faith still breathing and being involved with Spike. The doctors had told you multiple times that it would take a miracle for her to recover. That you should move on. But it was too hard letting go.

That was how you ended up here, psyching yourself up to go and join her by her bedside. Visiting hours started in less than an hour and you were still trying to convince yourself that there was still hope.

Her face, it looked almost peaceful lying in that bed but it brought you anything but peace. You knew she would rather be where the action was. Fighting and fucking in that way that only she could marry together perfectly. You could hold her hand in yours but it was often cold to match the room. You could bend it to curl around you but it never stayed.

You just wanted her to reach for you again, clasp her hand to yours and tell you that it would be okay. That she would make it out. That she could make it out of anything. Her confidence, you had loved it. She was so sure of herself and she had the same confidence in you. she was devoted to you in every way. Had near fought the Mayor over some of the comments he had made about you.

Spike spotted you immediately where you were sat hunched over your seat in the café. He stalked straight towards you, not moving out of anyone’s way. He sat down in front of you, characteristically throwing himself down and smirking as if this had all been planned. He took the mug from you and downed the remainder of the lukewarm liquid, grimacing at your choice of beverage. He slammed the mug back down, almost cracking it before sniffing and looking back at you expectantly.

“Did you follow me? You know you really shouldn’t do that to people-” You warned. You had this conversation more than once and he had mostly learned from what you had said. Or so you hoped anyway.

“I know. I wasn’t, I swear it” He said and when you raised an eyebrow he continued, “Stocking up wasn’t I?”

He pulled one half of his duster as if trying to sell you something but it revealed several concealed pockets that held blood bags. Human blood. He had come to get lunch.

This type of thing was what you had come to expect of Spike and so you just nodded and accepted it. In fact, you had begun to warm up his blood for him in the mornings when you both woke up together. He liked that you didn’t look at him in disgust for surviving. That rather you understood. He smiled at you before patting himself down again.

He took a cigarette from his pack and started to light up, forgetting where he was. You reached and took the object from him, dropping it in your cup. The dregs put the lit end out with a disappointing sizzle.

When you had leaned in, his eyes had widened. Your proximity was something he wanted more of. Those soft, familiar gestures of comfort. They meant a lot to him. Although, it wouldn’t stop him testing just how familiar he could be back to you.

“Question is, why are you? Doc said she’s gone, pet. No point making it harder on yourself” he said slowly, knowing not to push too hard. Last time he had started to press you to talk about it more you hadn’t spoken to him for a week. 

You knew what the doctor had said. But you couldn’t stop coming. You couldn’t let her go. You couldn’t leave her behind.

“I love her” You said sadly. The words stung Spike and he lowered his gaze to the table between you. His jaw tensed and he tried to blink the water from his eyes before you saw it. Your love meant too much to him. Sometimes, you wished it wasn’t true. You wish you could move on and just forget. But she had meant everything to you, even after she had joined up with the Mayor you stuck by her. You had fallen so deeply.

The way she always held you close. Kissed you until you were breathless as soon as she saw you. That smile that could light up a room. She would have died rather than see you hurt in any way. Faith loved you, you had never doubted it.

But as soon as you thought this your mind moved to Spike. In the same way, he clung to you protectively. Gave you all of his time. Would rather give up anything so that you could have even a second of happiness.

“But… I think… I think I feel the same about you” Your sentence exploded from your mouth before you could brace yourself. You hadn’t even thought them properly before you expressed these words. But, you knew that you meant it. That you adored every part of him.

You were scared though, that he may suffer the same fate as the only other person you loved. You didn’t need to explain this though, he understood.

He had gasped. Audibly. Spike was looking at you as if you had hung the stars in the sky. He reached for you from across the table, his features crudely carved out of the fluorescent lighting. Yet he still managed to keep this soft expression on his face. The one that was only yours.

“I have loved you since the first I saw you. Couldn’t even begin to deny these feelings inside. I need you, near crave you at times. Nothing compares to you, pet. Nothing even comes close”

He took your hand in his from over the table as he began to offer his feelings to you. This love that he had harboured in secret for too long. This soft adoration that he could now allow to flow freely. He assured you that he was yours, in any way you wanted him.

His hand caressed yours in such a way that you could no longer imagine him letting go. This intimacy meant more than you could even begin to describe. He slowly rubbed his thumb against the back of your hand as he spoke so earnestly.

You could have cried. Could have thrown the table aside and urgently pressed your lips against his. Instead, you clasped your hand tighter, wove your fingers firmly between his. You needed this. You needed him.

He squeezed your hand tighter as you spoke, trying to shuffle your thoughts into some type of cohesion. You wanted to explain. Wanted to match the beautiful way he expressed his own emotions to you. But something had stopped you. Or, someone. It felt as if someone had a hand wrapped around your neck, squeezing your throat until no words could form.

Your eyesight began to blur. The corners of your vision turning to static. But there was something, a flicker that caught your attention.

Her. Standing there in someone else’s clothes. Paler than you remembered but still completely her.

“Faith you’re…”

“Right on time” She nodded, smiling at you. Although her eye was almost twitching as she looked at the way you were both intimately sprawled across the table. Leaning in towards each other closer as the other spoke.

You couldn’t help but get up, dropping Spike’s hand in your shock. Your vision completely enraptured by her. You were so excited you didn’t hear a British accent muttering ‘Bloody brilliant’ as he contemplated that his relationship with you had just completely changed. Again.

To have everything he had ever wanted from you now potentially ripped away in almost the same breath hurt. Deeply. And so he blamed Faith for it. 

You launched yourself at her, wrapping your arms around her so enthusiastically. She hissed a little and you moved but you were unable to part from her. You pressed a chaste kiss against her lips before laughing at how amazing it was to have her standing before you after all of this time.

They scowled at each other while your back was turned, hugging Faith more gently again. They knew exactly how the other felt about you. Because they themselves felt it.

You opened your mouth to say something but then it dawned on you. You remembered what you had just said to Spike. Suddenly this reunion was bittersweet. You loved her completely and couldn’t leave her side now. But life had moved on and you had found yourself a spirit that spoke to yours. You also loved him.

You looked between them both and time stopped. There was no choice here. You knew who your heart belonged to. It was split in two, in equal parts. Your heart - it was theirs.