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onlyswan · 1 year

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summary: in which moving in together is a herculean task and jungkook teaches you how to fold his underwear.

> est. relationship, fluff, angst lowkey / wc: 3.2k

> warnings: mention of h!ckeys and or/l s/x (f. receiving), allusion to c*ckwarming and s/x

> in which masterlist!

note: who else will drunkenly research about men’s underwear and scroll through calvin klein’s website at 2am to write this for shit and giggles and self-indulgence if not art <3 as always i love hearing your thoughts thru reblogs/comments/asks !! 🥺

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“pssst.”

“oh shit-”

jungkook looks up to find you standing by the doorframe of the walk-in closet, and the view instantly weaves a stupidly whipped grin on his handsome face. your hair is messy from sleep; your eyes are still half-lidded; and your lips are wrapped around the straw of the red water tumbler you’re clutching in your hands.

“baby! you scared me! what are you doing out of bed?”

“my bed escaped from me.” you mumble, padding across the wooden floor until you reach him. he watches in bewilderment as you fall to your knees and pull his arms out of your way. muscular body pliant underneath your dainty touches, he allows you to move him as you like.

“ahhh-” he produces a noise of enlightenment as you find a comfortable position between his legs, lying down across his lap. he’s forced to support the weight of your torso with his arm beneath your upper back, hand curled around your shoulder. “am i the bed?”

“mhmm, boo! i caught you. you’re stuck with me forever.” you go limp in his arms and dramatically press the back of your hand on your forehead like a damsel in distress, which elicits a chuckle from your boyfriend.

he bends down to pepper kisses along your jaw and exposed neck, plush lips brushing against the traces of love bites that blossomed on your skin this afternoon, courtesy of his friskiness. having always been extra sensitive there, the ticklish sensation makes you squirm. “that’s exactly what i signed up for.”

“oh?” you raise an eyebrow challengingly. “sure. let’s see if you can still say the same thing… three months from now.”

your fingers comb through his silky locks, taking a fistful and lightly yanking to pull him off you.

“as you were.”

a grunt tumbles out of his mouth when you change positions carelessly. in the end, you settle with straddling him, legs wrapped around his waist and arms around his neck, where you nuzzle your face and almost purr like a kitten due to the warmth that you’ve missed in his absence.

the process of transforming an apartment to a home together has been… exhausting, to say the least. you’ve had most of the furniture installed before you started bringing in your personal belongings, but how can a space feel so empty and so crowded at the same time? too many boxes, too many bags, too many things left to buy. the line between what’s yours and what’s his is blurring in your eyes, and this is only the beginning.

you thought dealing with jungkook’s self-admitted laziness would frustrate you at some point, well… which it did. however, it turns out that it is precisely what you need in this type of situation. yesterday morning, he successfully seduced you into letting him eat you out on the kitchen island. you reached the height of your pleasure twice in a row, nearly delirious as he was lost in untamed lust and moaned about how you taste, distracting you from planning out what goes in which kitchen cabinet based on dimensions and convenience. last night, he had to drag you back to bed at 5am because you ended up organizing your bookshelf for two hours instead of only getting a refill of water like you claimed.

“what are you even looking for?!” jungkook exclaims with a hand over his naked waist, clad only in his boxers, as he watches you rummage through four boxes in search for something.

“the easel!” you whimper, your calves breaking your fall as you slump back on the floor in despair.

“easel?” he squats down infront of a box beside you, scratching his cheek as his puffy and sleepy eyes scan the other boxes. “i don’t think an easel would’ve fit in here, baby.”

“it’s a mini one. the one i use to display my favorite book.” you pout to point at it standing in the second level of the shelf. he recognizes it as the limited edition book he bought you last year, and the flashbacks of him standing in line for hours to get it signed by the author are inescapable.

if hearing you say that it’s your favorite makes jungkook so ecstatic that he wants to break down into tears, he doesn’t show it. instead, he nonchalantly throws you over his shoulder, making a beeline to the bedroom. he yelps when you angrily pound at his back with balled fists.

“ugh, i hate you! put me down!”

he clicks his tongue. “bad!” he lightheartedly chides you, smacking your ass. “i’m cuffing you to myself! do you have any idea what time it is? you have class in three hours!”

“but, babe, i don’t want to attend!” you cry out, slumping as you grudgingly yield. “why do you have to be so strong?! stop lifting weights for fuck’s sake!”

at the time, you meant it when you said that you want to take the moving duties slowly since you have all the time in the world but… you can’t stand the clutter and disorganization for the life of you. at the same time, it pumps your veins with thrill, having an empty space and being responsible to breathe life into it with jungkook. out of all the life-altering decisions you had to make with your still developing brain, this is the biggest gamble yet.

you don’t know if you’re blinded by love, putting your trust in jungkook when he said that he wanted to build a life with you; or if it’s arrogance, having the trust in your ability to stand on your own feet again incase a match is thrown in a puddle of fuel on the floor. the latter is more painful to think about, quite frankly. just because you can, doesn’t mean that you want to. you have to. you have to. with bruised knees from praying for a little more time, you have to. the earth doesn’t stop orbiting the sun when your house burns down.

either way, it’s too late to succumb to your inner monologue. the stuffed toys you own, including ones you’ve dearly loved since childhood, are scattered across the living room. the journal you’ve been sadly neglecting for the past two weeks is just freely lying on your personal study space. you’re here, safe in his arms, and if there’s one thing you’ll always believe in, it’s this. and you intend to make the most out of each day the universe allows you the right to be here.

“you can fall asleep like this? while i keep moving?” he whispers, wide palm soothingly running up and down the expanse of your back.

only if it’s you, you say in the back of your mind. “you can see for yourself.”

“psh. always gotta keep me on my toes, don’t you?” he smooches your cheek, and then once more, lingering and refusing to part away. you feel his lips curling up against your skin.

jungkook reaches for the tumbler you left behind on the floor, capturing the straw between his lips and plentily sipping until he deems his thirst quenched. he sets it aside afterwards, returning his attention to the laundry basket he purposely laid on the floor so he can easily reach inside. he’s been happily working hard on the laundry after you both agreed to wash the clothes you haven’t worn in quite some time to keep your closet clean and fresh.

a little hiccup though.

quickly and unsurprisingly, you ran out of hangers between his long-sleeves and yours alone. therefore, he’s solely focusing on the to-be-folded for tonight, which mostly consists of shorts, casual pants, underwear, and socks.

he inserts his arm in the laundry basket to push out the articles of clothing closer to the edge, grabbing the nearest thing and proceeding to neatly fold it over his outstretched legs. his white sweatpants lands on top of its designated pile, and then the same goes for your tennis skirt, as well as his ripped jeans, and everything else after that.

jungkook being jungkook, singing comes naturally to him after breathing and more than blinking. he hums, chest vibrating against yours as he does so, occasionally singing the lyrics in between because he means them. a tattooed arm protectively wraps around you to keep you glued to his body each time he leans forward. his careful movements, along with his mellifluous voice, fool your senses into believing that you’re being carried out by the ocean waves to the shore of dreamland.

your boyfriend freezes when one of your arm slides down his shoulder, an irrefutable evidence that you’ve fallen asleep again. you finally tired yourself out, he breathes out a sigh of relief. he cups the back of your head as support, eyes shaping into crescent moons as he giggles as quietly as he can after seeing your face.

“so fucking cute.” he muses, rewarding your cheek with another kiss before securely tucking you back into his embrace.

he carries on with his task to allow you to dive further into unconsciousness. he spends the next fifteen minutes folding the boxers that were still stuck inside one of his suitcases, patiently operating with only an arm. his tattooed one is still preoccupied with maintaining a protective embrace around you. shortly after, he decides that it’s time for you to go back to bed.

“there we go.” he says quietly to himself as he succeeds to stand on his feet, carrying you with his hands hooked around your bare thighs. you unconsciously tighten your hold around his neck and release a deep sigh of contentment in your sleep.

he kicks the door open, walking with light, deliberate steps across the wooden floor. he climbs on the bed, knees sinking in the mattress as he gently lays you down. and there’s an inexplicable emotion stirring in his chest as he covers you with the blanket, accompanied by the epiphany that he is doing this at 2am not because time has arrived to daunt him and he needs to leave your bed to go home. not anymore. whatever this is, it feels so fucking good. oh my god, he looks forward to spending the rest of his life feeling you breathe next to him, getting lost in how peaceful you look asleep when he randomly wakes up in the middle of the night.

he tenderly squeezes your arms as he leans down to plant a goodnight kiss on your velvet lips, sweet and loving. slowly, and with the smallest movements possible, he gets out of the bed to return to the closet.

“love, you’re not sleeping yet?” your tiny voice barely reaches his ears but it pinches his heart, even more painfully when he sees that your hand only managed to seize three of his longest fingers to stop him from walking away.

he sits down beside you, intertwining his fingers with yours. “i will in a bit, baby. i only have the rest of my underwear left to put away.”

you blink at him hazily, silent as you digest his words in your clouded mind. “you’re folding them, too?”

“of course.”

and with that confirmation, you eagerly inch closer to him. “teach me.”

“huh?” his forehead creases, eyebrows knitting in a state of confusion.

“teach me.” you repeat yourself, bordering on a whine.

“how to fold my underwear?”

you innocently nod your head as a reply.

“why?” he asks, an amused smile tugging at the corners of his mouth because of your unusual request. but then again, he can’t say he’s much that surprised. it’s such a you thing to do.

“i can’t?” your lips form an adorably small pout, and you sniffle as your eyes water with unshed tears of drowsiness. “but you’re my boyfriend.”

fuck fuck fuck, he curses inside his head. his heart flips and drops to his stomach. holy shit, yes he is. it’s infuriating, how it requires you little to no effort to have him wrapped around your finger. the endearing sight automatically tugs at his heartstrings, urging him to cradle your soft cheeks in between his large palms.

“i’m just curious.” he reassures you with a chuckle, leaning down to press one more sweet kiss to your lips.

“we do chores together…” you trail off, nose scrunching when his brushes yours. you smile sheepishly. you’re relishing in the mere inches between you — how you can see that his pupils are evidently dilated, his brown doe eyes appearing rounder and bigger than they already are. “so i just want to learn how to do it right.”

you swiftly throw aside the blanket enveloping you when he voices out his permission with an “it’s so easy!”, cheerfully jumping off the bed. captivated by your unique charm, jungkook allows himself to be dragged away as a breathing, walking picture of pure adoration.

—

he finds himself sitting on the same spot on the floor, back comfortably resting on the cabinets now that you’re beside him instead of on him. your drooping eyes follow the every movement of his dexterous hands as he folds a calvin klein trunk on his lap, black with a white waistband. wearing an orange beanie of his you found stuck underneath the laundry basket, you obediently bounce your head as he earnestly demonstrates it with instructions.

“so you take this side and fold it over to the middle, and then! you do the same with the other one, so they’re folded equally like this.”

he briefly picks it up to show it to you from rim of the waistband, the two parts stacked and perfectly aligned.

“after that, you take the bottom and roll it over like… halfway? whatever, i just kind of do it by feel- and the final step… so you also fold the waistband here so you can tuck the rolled up part inside. it ends up looking this neat and compact, see?”

your gaze only flickers at the finished product, having seen what it looks like about a thousand times in his backpacks and luggages. “so these are called trunks… and those are called boxers?”

your boyfriend follows the direction your index finger is pointing at, revealing a pile of folded boxers sitting inside of his opened suitcase. he winces with his full set of teeth before he cracks up in laughter, the genuine curiosity you radiate is making his brain overflow with love and happy chemicals.

“right! those are more comfortable and breathable so i wear them at home, while trunks provide more support for when i need it, you know?”

“snug fit or loose fit this, boxers or boxer briefs that. you strip them off all the time to put your dick in me anyway.” you scoff, picking up another calvin klein creation from the laundry basket immediately afterwards.

a string of ditzy giggles slip past your lips. the light blue trunk was standing out among the neutral colors like a firefly in the forest, practically begging to be chosen as your first piece of work.

“i’ll do this one! you wore it yesterday. i love the color.”

his lips part open in surprise at your lewd and unfiltered response, a hand flying to his face to conceal the rosy shade that has begun to tint his flushed honey skin, many earrings collectively swinging and belly aching as he chortles. it’s embarrassing, really, how he still blushes despite having done countless sinful things with you. can you really blame him for being incapable of keeping his hands to himself when he’s so helplessly and hopelessly attracted to you?

he clears his throat, crossing his legs and moving to his side so he’s facing you. “go on then.”

you flap it against the air to straighten out the fabric, placing it over your thighs and meticulously following your boyfriend’s instructions step-by-step. you’re quiet as you commit yourself to the chore, floating in your little bubble of tranquility and concentration.

and jungkook is intently watching you with as much self-control he can muster. the urge to grab your face and kiss you senselessly is palpable, wrapping itself around his limbs like vines that have a life of their own, desperate to dip into the sun for a taste. they say distance makes the heart grow fonder, and he can attest to that to a certain degree… but dear god, its lack thereof?

there’s no sensible reason why the both of you should be spending your late nights in your new apartment doing stuff like this when you have an entire 55-inch television set up on the floor because you haven’t found the time and energy to attach it to the bedroom wall yet… and not to mention that jungkook had to write more batteries all types of batteries, tongs, and curtains as CURTAINS!!! in your little notebook of to-buy checklists because somehow, they never crossed either of your minds the last two times you went shopping for your remaining home essentials. his new gaming chair arrived this afternoon and he has zero clue where he will insert assembly time into his busy schedule. one of these days, you’re also bound to discover the plant namjoon left as a gift three days ago. he placed it at the balcony, and it’s only surviving due to the fact that it’s been a relatively rainy month.

although, that’s precisely what makes this moment so priceless and so grounding. you smoothly finish the challenge and sing “ta-da!” with a beam that causes your eyes to twinkle with a tiny sense of achievement despite your apparent exhaustion.

“oh?! looks perfect. good job, baby. goob job.” he praises you with a grin, affectionately stroking your hair. “let’s work together so we can go to sleep.”

his thoughtful words and action make you keen, coaxing the giddiness in you to bubble over. you playfully nudge his side as you haul the laundry basket closer. “i want to play. let’s see who can fold the most in a minute!”

“play?” his shoulders deflate as he sighs, battery running low.

“no?” your lips pucker up in dismay. “too tired, love?”

his tongue pokes the inside of his cheek as he gives it some consideration. he shrugs. “what’s in it for me?”

oh, damn it.

“the winner also automatically wins the light fixture debate?”

in which you’re referring to your month-long dispute over which color of the cloud light you should purchase for your shared bedroom. he insists on the white cloud that has the white light because it looks like a thundercloud, and on the other hand, you’re fighting for the pink cloud with the yellow light because it looks like the sunrise or the sunset depending on its saturation and brightness.

“alright!” he blurts out, a surge of energy kickstarting his system. he snatches his phone, which he left in one of the empty shelves near him. “baby wants to play a dangerous game, huh? the stakes are incredibly high! too high! are you ready? to lose?”

your mood sours when he begins using his variety show hosting voice, confidence dwindling but determination fueled and burning brighter now that he’s in higher spirits.

you roll your eyes. “yeah, sure. ready to lose the white variation in my cart, bro.”

he smirks mischievously, his childish and devilish laughter echoing in the closet. “we’ll start the timer! in three…! one- go!”

“freeze, you cheater! i wasn’t ready! put that shit down!”

—

note: soooo, are you team oc or team jungkook? i will be keeping score 👩‍💻

taglist in the reblogs! send an ask/dm to be added or removed :D

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#jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook drabble #jungkook scenario #jungkook imagine #jungkook one shot #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook au #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts fluff #bts reaction #jungkook angst #jungkook smut

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xpao-bearx · 1 year

Text

"Like A Virgin"

Steven Grant x Fem!Reader/Jake Lockley x Fem!Reader/Marc Spector x Fem!Reader

Read Part 2 HERE

Read Part 3 HERE

Read Part 4 HERE

SUMMARY: Steven Grant has come to the devastating conclusion that he was fated to be single forever. Marc didn't care for romance, Jake was only interested in one-night stands, and Steven was--well...Steven.

But when you started working alongside him at the museum's gift shop--a pretty girl younger than him with a bright smile and a cloying kindness he hasn't been the recipient of in a long time--he begins to think that maybe romance is in the cards for him.

Especially when you are just as awkward as him and sinfully lovely.

AKA "the man without love" falls for "the virgin".

RATING: 18+ minors please do NOT interact!!! This fic will contain romance, smut, and generally mature content (though not ALL parts will have explicit smut).

NOTES: I recently rewatched Moon Knight and have been in the mood to write my own fic after reading countless of amazing ones on here, then outta the blue Madonna's song Like A Virgin got stuck in my head and it got me thinking "Huh... This song is cute for Steven if he gets a girlfriend. ACTUALLY WAIT A DAMN MINUTE IT COULD FIT ALL THE MOON KNIGHT BOYS"

And so... Tada! Here's le result~ Although I'm still working out the details, this fic will have ✨️6 PARTS✨️ This fic will PROBABLY be quite self-indulgent, and at times the way the reader is written could be a bit similar to an OC. I'm so sorry if that is the case, but please understand that I'm writing this for fun and I'm just going with the flow!

Some things will also be different from the show. For example, all the boys are actually aware of each other in this fic. I try to stick as close as possible to the source material, but hey this is my fic and like I said I just wanna have fun 😂

Thank you sooo much and I sincerely hope you enjoy!! Likes, comments, and reblogs are STRONGLY encouraged and appreciated so please don't be a silent reader!

Now... Join me as I hopelessly thirst over this RIDICULOUSLY gorgeous man both in fiction AND reality \(^o^)/

Part 1: Didn't know how lost I was until I found you

Steven willed his legs to go faster, pushing through London's usual busy morning crowd and into the museum he was cursed to work at. Clutching his bag in one hand, and the other holding his small thermos of coffee as he prayed to any Egyptian god listening that Donna wouldn't catch him this time.

But, of course, the only Egyptian god within Steven's vicinity was Khonshu. And the old bird only cared about how his Moon Knight was upholding his duties as his "Fist of Vengeance", not of his Avatar's petty human responsibilities such as "keeping a job".

"Late again, eh, Stevie?" Donna's annoying voice mocked Steven, pausing in his tracks as he sighed deeply and begrudgingly turned towards his boss.

"Sorry, Donna." He shot the blonde a forced smile, his grip on his thermos tightening. "Got stuck in traffic. You know how it is, yeah?"

"I wouldn't because unlike you, Stevie, I'm never late." Donna returned his fake smile along with a roll of her eyes. "Anyway, enough chatter. You've got someone working with you at the gift shop from now on. Maybe this way you won't be late, yeah? Teach her how to actually sell some bloody candy."

Steven opened his mouth to retort, but was quickly cut off when his new co-worker--you--stepped out from behind Donna. You were younger than him, around your twenties, and you were such a shy little thing with your head slightly ducked down. Your E/C eyes peeked out from behind the glasses framing your delicate features, long lashes fluttering as you flashed him a sweet smile. Your fingers fiddled nervously with the pink midi skirt you wore, matching the dainty pink ribbons that tied your H/C hair in two low pigtails.

Your smile faltered as your gaze met Steven's dark brown ones. He remained silent, mouth hanging agape as he stared at you as if you grew two heads. Your eyes lowered, heart threatening to burst right out of your poor chest.

Did you do something wrong? Maybe you should've ditched the ribbons, you looked ridiculous, right? Why was he staring at you? Oh, god, why was such a HOT guy staring at you?!

"Hello, uh, I'm Steven Grant." Your head snapped up, witnessing the twist of Steven's lips into a kind albeit awkward smile that accompanied a friendly little wave. "Steven..." He seemed to be rethinking his words before, ultimately, the dorky side of him won. "...with a V."

A smile once again bloomed across your face, feeling more at ease this time. "Hi, I'm Y/N L/N. With anxiety!" You chirped the latter a little too cheerfully, a light blush dusting your cheeks as you inwardly slapped yourself. No, punched yourself. "O-Oh, uh, I-I didn't mean that! I-I mean, no, it was just a joke--but a really BAD one, oh god--"

As you rambled nonsensically, Donna arched a judgmental brow at you before noticing the utterly smitten expression on Steven's face as he watched you with a huge goofy grin. Now both of Donna's eyebrows were raised to her hairline before she slowly backed away, leaving you two to fend for yourselves.

At least this time, though, Steven wouldn't be late anymore.

'She's so...'

'Weird.' Marc piped up in Steven's head.

'Amusing.' Jake snickered.

'...lovely.' Steven finished, eyes gleaming the same way it does for Egyptology as he continued to look at you as if you hung the moon in the sky.

He adored you instantly.

♡•••🌙•••♡

It's been two months since you started working at the museum's gift shop. During that time, you and Steven got closer. He discovered that you were a college dropout, reaching a stressful breaking point one day and deciding to just work for the meantime before figuring the rest of your life out. And as it turns out, you weren't so shy after all; once you were out your shell, you were just as big of a dork as Steven was and whenever you two were together, your shift passed by quickly--too quickly.

From the very first moment, you and Steven got along splendidly. He was a complete sweetheart and it always shattered your heart whenever Donna harassed him with any snarky and insensitive remarks.

Steven was used to it so he didn't mind it too much. What he wasn't used to, though, was you. You who was always so kind, lending a listening ear whenever he went on a passionate tangent regarding Egypt and even encouraging him on his dream of becoming the museum's tour guide. You who always graced him with a genuine smile that reached your ears, eyes sparkling whenever you see him as if he was your favourite art piece in the entire museum.

You who always made his heart race, palms sweaty, mind swirling without fail.

You had an intense crush on Steven--a longing, really--but what you didn't know was that he felt the same about you. But perhaps it was more than that. He practically worshipped the ground you walked on, and it certainly didn't miss Donna's unexpectedly sharp eyes. She'd tease him whenever you left earlier than him, looking like a kicked little puppy as his gaze trailed after you.

Today was no different as he stared helplessly at you, and it was a wonder you didn't feel the invisible daggers boring into you. There were only ten minutes left before you were done for the day and you both were stuck in inventory, but for once in his life he loved doing inventory and he desperately wished that this incredible moment with you, alone, would last forever.

'You're so fucking pathetic, ese.' Jake echoed in Steven's mind.

Nowadays Jake was becoming more vocal, at least when you're around. Marc, on the other hand, remained tight-lipped. The mercenary would much rather have absolutely nothing to do with you at all costs.

'Shut up, mate.' Steven silently argued, brows furrowing as his eyes finally broke away from you and focused on organizing some Taweret plushies.

'Only saying the truth, ese. You've got her all to yourself and the only thing you can think of is that you wish this time would last forever?' Jake scoffed. 'Be a man and step the fuck up. You know you want to, especially with the way she looks today.'

Steven's burning gaze was right back on you, eyes darkening slightly. He hated to admit it, but Jake was right. You were always so pretty, but something about today made you look that much more.

You always dressed modestly, but with the weather warming up lately you opted for a black pleated skirt that fell just above your knees and a tucked in short sleeved yellow blouse with the top few buttons undone exposing the tiniest bit of your cleavage. You also wore matching yellow heels that perfectly accentuated your legs and it made him feral.

"Steven? Are you okay?"

His eyes met yours and a smile instantly curled up his lips, nodding his head as if he wasn't just ogling you like a total perv. "Yes, I just zoned out. Sorry, love." Ugh, the way he called you 'love' so casually had you swooning.

If only he actually meant it.

You nodded back, shoving your thoughts away and returning his smile before glancing towards a portrait. "A shame what they did to this, huh?"

Steven curiously followed your line of sight, seeing a portrait of the Ennead.

"Whoever did this made a major blunder. Isn't the Ennead supposed to have nine gods, not seven?"

"YES!" You flinched slightly at Steven's exclamation, whipping your head towards him only to see him with the cutest blush ever.

"Erm, s-sorry, uh..." Steven cleared his throat, sheepishly running a hand through his unruly locks. "I just got excited. I'm surprised you knew that. Not a lot of people do--or care."

"Well, I happen to know a fantastic teacher always talking about Egyptology." You giggled, grinning at him. "And thanks to him, he's caused me to become interested in it myself and do my own research."

"Really?!" The way his eyes lit up felt as if an arrow was shot straight to your heart, and if you didn't have any self-control you would've dropped to your knees and asked--begged--this gorgeous man to marry you right then and there. "Any particular god or goddess that you're most interested in?"

"Hmm..." You pursed your lips thoughtfully, and Steven had half a mind to kiss them senseless. "I'd have to say Khonshu."

'GOOD ANSWER. KEEP HER, WORM.' Khonshu's thundering voice suddenly boomed in Steven's head.

"She's not a dog, you stupid pigeon." Steven grumbled, rubbing his temples exasperatedly.

"Hm? Did you say something?"

"Nothing!" Steven answered quickly, forcing out a laugh. "Err, why Khonshu?"

"Well, I really like Astronomy!" You beamed. "And I find the moon to be one of the most beautiful things in our universe, so it feels fitting for my favourite Egyptian god to be Khonshu."

Despite Steven's distaste (to put it nicely) for the old bird, he could never find your response as such. Not when you looked so happy and comfortable sharing your interests with him, even though he did disagree with just one thing you said.

The moon doesn't even come close to being one of the most beautiful things this universe boasts. No, not when you existed.

BEEP, BEEP, BEEP!

The alarm on your wristwatch cruelly popped the blissful little bubble you both were in, you turning it off as you saw that it was the end of your shift.

A regular person would be over the moon that they were finally free from their corporate prison, but not you. Not when you wished you could spend more time with Steven.

"Well..." Your voice was nothing more than a whisper, a pout forming on your lips. "Guess it's time for me to go home."

"It appears so..." Steven mumbled, his heart sinking to his stomach as he watched you put away the remaining items you were in charge of.

'It's now or never, Steven. Do something.' Jake urged.

'Do WHAT?'

'Fucking Christ, you're hopeless.' Jake sighed frustratedly, Steven's eyes rolling to the back of his head and his shoulders slumping. After a few seconds, he straightened up once more and approached you.

You were faced away from Steven, and you were having difficulty setting the final box of souvenirs you had on a shelf when Steven's hands reached from behind you and easily lifted them.

Your breath hitched, feeling his broad chest pressed against your back. He was so close you could feel his warm breath tickling the nape of your neck, making you gulp.

"T-Thank you, Steven..." You murmured meekly, feeling so small as he had you completely caged. You tried to turn, but his hands suddenly dropped to your hips; keeping you in place with a gentle but firm grip.

"You look so pretty today, Y/N." He leaned down, voice deliciously low as his lips ghosted just beneath your ear and a shiver ran down your spine. "But I think you can look even prettier. How 'bout tomorrow you dress all nice, and we can meet up around seven p.m. and have the best steak in town?"

Your thoughts were all jumbled up. Was this really happening or just another one of your silly fantasies? Where the hell did Steven get this sudden confidence from?

And, perhaps you were just imagining it, but he sounded...different. Not quite like the Steven you knew. He had an accent, but not the one you've gotten so familiar with and loved.

But the ache in your heart--and another part of you--was much too strong to bear. You've waited so long for this, dreamt of this, and it was finally coming true.

You definitely made the right decision to dress the way you did today and you sure as hell weren't going to let go of such a grand opportunity.

"I-I'd love to, but..." You placed your hands on top of his own still on your hips, and you wondered if he can tell just how embarrassingly sweaty your palms have gotten. "I...I know you're a vegan, Steven, so let's go somewhere else. There's a new restaurant that just opened and they've got vegan options. Um, y'know, if it's okay with you..."

The corners of his mouth tugged up into a smile and he couldn't stop himself as he nuzzled his face against the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply and revelling in your addicting scent.

"Perfect." He then spun you both around so that his back was against the shelf, but you still couldn't see him. His fingers slowly, teasingly trailed upwards along your stomach before reaching your blouse's breast pocket, slipping off your name tag and putting it in one of your hands. "I'll see you tomorrow, hermosa." He chuckled huskily, giving you a light push.

You were utterly dazed, cheeks flushed and stumbling in your steps slightly as you exited the room.

'What the bloody hell was THAT?!' Steven panicked.

"What do you think, ese?" Jake scoffed, rolling his eyes. "I just scored you a date."

'Well, I hope you're happy! Y/N looked so shocked!'

"I feel like a million dollars and Y/N looked like she liked it." Jake snickered. "Quit whining like a bitch and just be grateful, Steven. And hey, she even chose some hippie vegan place for you. Doesn't that prove she's into you?"

That immediately shushed Steven, and Jake can feel that despite Steven's complaining Steven was very much overjoyed and was already overthinking the date for tomorrow.

Jake looked down his hands, still remembering the soft curve of your hips even through your clothes and smirked.

You won't be wearing any for long now.

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mikrokcsmos · 1 year

Text

My Universe

synopsis; in which you get lost and Yoongi finds you.

pairing; idol!min yoongi x non-idol!reader

genre; angst, fluff, airport au

rating; PG-13

warnings; minor cursing (nothing explicit), reader has a minor panic attack, overprotective suga baby, we love a caring and attentive boi

w/c; 2,606

a/n; originally lost this entire draft and it took me three days to gain the energy and drive back to write it all over again from scratch. honestly though, I like this version better. anyways. enjoy, y’all. like/reblog and please leave some love. HAPPY BIRTHDAY, YOONGI. this is a repost from my old account.

Yoongi hated the flashing lights.

They always blinded his vision and made him see a plethora of stars, the kind that didn’t involve nightly activities between you two, when he saw not only stars, but galaxies. No, these were the ones that didn’t exist to the normal fellow travelers making their way through the airport around him.

He also hated being singled out. Usually the reserved and quiet one within the group, with very few words to say. He’ll admit, he’s been able to loosen up over the years cause he got used to the constant attention, the pushy reporters, the even more personal bubble bursting paparazzi that had no moral boundaries apparently to get one stupid picture of him. Even if you couldn’t see his face, they still went at each other like hungry wolves fighting for the same prey.

It sickened him. But at the same time, he knew it was their way of making a living. So, he allowed it to happen, to an extent, now choosing to mainly ignore them with his head down and earphones in. Thank goodness he has bodyguards to do most of the brunt work with keeping them at bay, so he didn’t look like the bad guy in the situation. All he had to do was swiftly walk in between the hefty men that no one would dare to get close too. Easy peasy. Smiling underneath his black mask, he thought of you, and couldn’t wait to see you.

The only problem was, you weren’t used to the constant attention, you weren’t able to push through the pushy reporters, you weren’t able to keep walking with your eyes being blinded every five seconds by a different camera. Which made you start to get heart palpitations, becoming short of breath.

You were having a panic attack.

I mean, seriously? How were you supposed to know that there was going to be a ridiculous amount of people here to see your boyfriend at nearly, your eyes glanced up at the digital clock displayed above the flight signs, 2:27 in the morning?! You grunted to yourself, your hand pushing through the crowd and surprisingly in between the security surrounding Yoongi. A little detail you also failed to consider in your obvious fool proof plan.

You were so close to Yoongi, you almost grazed the back of his black leather jacket. It was a taller, broad chested, reporter that was holding a video camera that shoved you away just as you were going too. Causing you to finally get pulled into the whirlpool of paparazzi and fans alike that were desperate to gain the rapper’s attention. Like you.

Okay, so this wasn’t your best idea at surprising Yoongi. You’ll admit. The original plan was for him to meet you at the unmarked black SUV that he would be climbing into at the end of his airport journey. Where you could embrace and catch up in private. But this time, you thought you would spice things up a little. Your idea? To surprise him inside the airport, and not tell him you were going to surprise him. Cause, well, then it wouldn’t be a surprise now, would it?

Bad idea. Extremely bad idea. You thought about kneeling down to try and calm yourself, but realized that could end up fatal on your part since it would make you easier to get trampled over by the herd of feet you can hear squeak, click clack and stomp on the shiny, freshly cleaned, tile. It was non-stop.

Your hands clutched the sides of your head as you whimpered, becoming over sensitive from all the constant noise. Bodies continued to brush past you, some more aggressively than most, almost throwing you off balance multiple times. You tried counting back from ten, which normally works, but not this time. You knew you only had one last resort. You had to call Yoongi.

A picture of you lit up the rapper’s phone screen. Simultaneously stopping the music he was currently listening to with his wireless bluetooth headphones and replacing it with the ringtone you picked out for your contact when you called, opting for your couple song. The picture was of you wearing an oversized hoodie that came over your knees with Yoongi’s face on it. You were sitting sideways on the couch with your bare legs curled underneath you in his private studio. One of the many pictures he cherished of you, meant for his eyes only. His heartbeat subconsciously picked up as he got the ceremonious butterflies in his stomach that never fail to appear with anything that involved you.

A monotone voice could be heard over the ringtone announcing your contact name that you gave yourself, Baby Girl 🥵. Giving him the choice of answering it or not by speaking through the headphones. Which he did, in a heartbeat. After snickering at the description of the emoji you chose, sweat emoji, you claiming that you know you always had that affect on him. You were right.

“Hey sweaty.” A quiet chuckle could be heard on his end of the phone, mentally patting himself on the back for the playful jab of your contact name in good humor. He continued talking a mile a minute.

“You would not believe the amount of people that are here so damn early. It’s actually insane. Probably the worst amount of reporters and whatnot in a long time, but I’m almost there and I can’t wait to–“

As the last body brushed against you rather aggressively, it caused you to stumble harshly forward onto the tiled floor, hands catching your fall and knees taking the brunt force of it all. You let out a broken whimper, only catching bits and pieces of Yoongi’s ramblings through the phone that laid a few feet ahead of you on the floor due to your sudden impact. You reached out and clutched it tightly with your fingers, pushing your body up in a semi sitting position, much like the one that can be seen in your contact photo in Yoongi’s phone. One hand flat against the tile, propping your upper body up. Legs curled next to you, sideways. All you wanted to do was cry out of frustration at everything going wrong. So, you did.

Staring down at the rare pearly white smile that beamed at you for your eyes only, used as Yoongi’s contact photo in your phone, only made your watery eyes overflow with tears that streaked down your cheeks in little rivers. Breaths slightly becoming shorter, making you gasp out a sob involuntarily. You quickly put the phone on speaker and set it on the floor in front of you, knowing you wouldn’t have the strength to hold it much longer.

His rambling was abruptly cut off, ears straining to hear what he thought he heard, though it was hard to be sure from all the raucous noise surrounding him. He went to speak again, but stopped himself when he for sure heard your watery gasp through the phone. His smile wiped off his face in an instant, turning to one of worry.

“Baby? Where are you? Are you okay? Are you hurt? What’s wrong?” The questions flew out instinctually, him wanting to solve the situation as fast as possible. He knew you were having a panic attack. He could feel it in his gut as soon as he heard you, having helped you through them in the past.

He stopped his brisk walking pace and stood stock still, nearly making the security guard that was positioned directly behind him, plow into him, before catching his footing in time to avoid his client. He closed his eyes to try and get any clue from your end of the phone when you wouldn’t respond to him. As much as he wanted to freak out, he knew he had to stay the calm one between you two in order to find you before it got worse. He bit his lip in frustration, zoning out the nagging from his security guards to get him to continue on his foot path to the end destination, nearly wanting to let out a cry of his own when he heard it.

The same announcement over the airport loudspeakers that littered every corner of the building he was in, something to do about a travel package to Hawaii, he could hear echo through your side of the phone back at him. Okay, he thought rationally, so you were somewhere within the airport. That much could be certain. Now he needed just a little bit more to figure out where exactly you were located within the huge facility. Maybe…a sign? He thought logically. So, he asked you.

“Sweetie, you think you can read me some sort of sign near you so I can find you and help you? Please? I know it might be hard, but you can do it, baby. I believe in you. You got this.” He asked in his soothing voice he knows can get through to you in your current state of mind. Semi loud so you can hear what he says, but slowly and clearly.

You didn’t respond right away. Shaky and watery eyes immediately surveyed your surroundings in search of some kind of unique sign that could directly implicate your position on this tile floor that seems to get colder by the minute. You could literally feel the many pairs of eyes that walked by you on faces connected to bodies that didn’t even try to reach out and help you in the slightest. What a cruel world we live in, you thought bitterly. Though, you wondered, if you were in their shoes, would you have done any differently? And that thought alone sobered you up immediately. A fresh new set of tears falling down your cheeks in streams now.

There it was, the sign you were looking for. Directly above your head, ironically. It was a picture of a smiling, and blended family, much like your own, you thought with a watery smile. In bright red letters, and a snazzy font, it read ‘Family Doesn’t End With Blood’. You managed to somewhat clearly reiterate the sign you just read to your ever patient boyfriend, hoping and praying to all that is holy that it’ll be enough and you can soon be in the comfort of his arms.

As soon as he heard the words fall out of your mouth he opened his eyes and slowly turned his body in a circle, reading every sign his eyes found hoping that the next one he reads will be the one you just told him.

Bingo.

It wasn’t even that far from where he stood. He immediately pushed through the last throes of the crowd surrounding him, or what remained. It seemed like half splintered off upon getting what they needed from him already. He didn’t even care what the remaining vultures thought of him, or what berating he’ll surely receive from his head of security once they find out he fled them of his own accord. All he cared about was finding you, making sure you were safe, calming you, and holding you in his arms.

It’s like the life you two shared ran through his mind in flashes, like a reel of a film. It spurred him to pump his legs even harder, especially when he noticed the lone figure that half lay beneath the sign. Getting closer he could see how fast your chest rose and fell, the tears that littered your flushed cheeks, and your eyes that widened upon landing on him coming towards you. He could visibly see your body sag in relief, which made his heart flutter knowing he could make you feel so calm in a matter of a look. It was the same way with you, for him.

He slid the last few feet in front of you on his knees. Not wasting any time, he began searching your body for any kind of wounds or minor injuries that could’ve triggered your attack, hands hovering over every bit of your body he examined. He found none, except your hands and knees scraped up a bit. He exhaled a breath he didn’t know he was holding. Good. Now to calm you down.

“I’m here, baby. I’m here, and you did so well. I’m so proud of you.” He praised you with a look so full of warmth, you couldn’t help but give a small, shaky smile in response. Feeling like a little kid again, you reached out to him with grabby hands. I need you now. A silent demand.

He encased your body with his arms, and gently pushed your head to lay where his heart is with one hand on the back of your head, the other brought your body impossibly closer than it already was, making you half lay on him now. With him supporting your body weight completely, you slumped into him in pure exhaustion, eyes closing and hands gripping the back of his jacket like you would never see him again after you departed. After a mere 4-5 minutes of listening to his heartbeat, your breathing returned to normal. Your eyes dried up. Your body regained its strength back.

You tried to unwrap yourself from him, but his response was to grip onto you even tighter, not wanting to let you go just yet. So, you let him. Returning the embrace with as much passion as he was. You lost track of how much time passed there on that tile floor, that oddly, didn’t feel as cold anymore.

It wasn’t until the head of Yoongi’s security cleared his throat loudly, did you look up from your position still attached to the rapper. Yoongi didn’t even flinch, making no attempt to acknowledge the man. Which left things in your hands. He stood off to the side of you two with his hands clasped together in front of his stomach, posture rigid, but eyes letting you know that he understood why your boyfriend broke the rules. He nodded at you once making eye contact and tilted his head in the direction of where the car garage was, subtly telling you that you guys needed to get up and it was time to go. Then he left, footsteps receding until you could hear them no more. That’s when you finally managed to get the rapper’s attention.

“Yoongs, can we go home now?” You asked meekly, voice sounding weak due to not getting much use of it for awhile. Your eyes must’ve been puffy for sure. They took the most damage.

You could feel him nod his head in the crook of your neck and reluctantly let you go. Yoongi stood up first, then extended his hand out to you to help you up off the floor. Gripping onto it tightly, you managed to raise yourself back up on your feet. He refused to let go of your hand even after you were up, instead opting to pull you flush to his side. You gave him a small smile of thanks, squeezing his hand, your silent way of saying ‘I love you’ to each other without words. He squeezed your hand back twice. ‘I love you too’. Your other hand finding purpose in the crook of his elbow, holding it gently yet firmly, you leaned into his side.

And then you walked in sync towards the car garage in the now unnaturally calm atmosphere, security once again flanking the both of you now.

Just two lovers wanting nothing more than to collapse into each other in their shared bed, at their shared home, where they can create their own little universe of stars only they could see.

#min yoongi x you #min yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #yoongi x reader #jungkook angst #suga x you #suga x reader #yoongi fluff #yoongi angst #yoongi fic #fic; my universe #masterlist; old account #main masterlist #min yoongi #bts yoongi #bts min yoongi

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julesthequirky · 6 months

Text

Healing Her: Chapter 1

All my work is purely aimed at those 18+ so minors, kindly DNI.

Summary: Three years ago you escaped your abusive ex, but he left you mentally broken, with PTSD. He was an officer of the law, and it's killed any trust you had with the policing organisation. You've learnt to never get involved with a cop. Moving to Montana, you feel you can finally breathe. It's the furthest you can get away from your ex, the furthest you can get away from his influence.

Pairings/Characters: Beau Arlen x Reader, OC Zadie.

Chapter Warnings: PTSD, grounding techniques, anxiety, triggers.

W/C: 1,789

A/N: This chapter has two perspectives, the reader's and Beau's.

This work is unbeta’d so all mistakes are mine. If you like it, heart, and reblog it. All feedback is gold.

Zadie’s Coffee Shop was bustling with so many people that you could barely get through the door. Already, the anxiety was working through your veins, almost causing you to back out, but the smell of coffee hit your nose, and the pull of the warmth was just too great. You could do this. You could push yourself. Prove to everyone you could. Prove to yourself. You were scared, but you had just as much of a right to be there as much as everyone else did. Plus, this morning was the only time in the day you had.

Someone shifted, and you slipped to the back of the line. Your eyes darted around, and you couldn’t truly relax. You were hypervigilant, aware of everything. Thankful just to be out of the cold, you rubbed your hands together, quickly warming up and tried looking over the heads at the menu to consider what you’d have. November had hit, and all the holiday drinks had come in. Earlier that week, during a quieter time, Zadie had gushed over all the new drinks she would be showcasing, and you couldn’t wait to sample them all.

The line thinned a little, and you slowly made your way to the front. You still hadn’t decided, but she saw you and smiled. Today, Zadie’s afro looked as glorious and flawless as ever. Her make-up was on point, and a silver highlighter shimmered on her cheekbones. You remembered her saying that Christmas was her favourite time of the year.

“Hey, girl. Don’t worry. I gotchu. You’re gonna love it.”

She spun around with the largest mug and began working on your coffee. You concentrated on the sounds of the machines, the smell of the beans and the way Zadie moved as she made your drink. It kept you grounded.

Zadie slipped the coffee in your direction a few moments later with a warm smile.

“How much do I owe you?”

“Four, seventy-five.”

You nodded and pulled out your wallet from your bag. Your hands fumbled as you pulled notes out. A note went trailing to the floor.

Why haven’t you prepared? God, why do you have to be so awkward? Zadie thinks you’re an idiot. Hurry up, dumbass. Put something down. There’s a whole ass queue behind you. Useless. Slow. Stupid. That’s what you are.

These thoughts flooded your brain, and you struggled to remember the thoughts to counter the negative ones. Your heart hammered, and everything was getting clammy. Your tongue felt like a useless lump of muscle in your mouth, and worst of all, you struggled to pull your breaths in.

A finger tapped you on the shoulder, and you felt like your skin had moved away from your bones. You jumped so high.

“Woah, woah. Didn’t mean ta startle ya.”

The accent struck you. It wasn’t often you heard a Texan accent in Montana. You turned to the voice. The kindest and most sincere green eyes greeted you, along with the prettiest face you’ve ever seen. His hair hung over his forehead, making you want to gently slide it back in place. The man smiled and held out the note between two fingers. With a strained smile, you took it and plopped it onto the counter for Zadie.

Zadie took the money, and you were taking your coffee, desperately trying to move out of the crowd. Finally, you made it to the bank of tables. There was a single two-seater table free, and you took it happily.

Your hands cupped the ceramic mug, and you focused on your breaths before doing anything else. In through the nose and back out. Nice and slow. You could feel it working. Your heart rate lowered, and you could feel the tension ease off your shoulders.

“Five. Table. Spoon. Window. Door. Zadie—”

You forced yourself to pause between each word, speaking them to yourself softly. You paused to take another deep, long breath.

“Four. Chair. Floor. Table. Mug—”

Another deep, long breath.

“Three. Coffee machines. The hubbub. The bell tinkle.”

You were pretty eased by now, and the negativity in your mind was a distant thought. You took another deep breath.

“Two. Coffee beans. Cologne. One.”

You picked up the coffee mug and stirred in the cream on top. Most of it had melted as you went through your exercise, and that was okay. You brought it up to your nose for a cursory sniff. It smelled nutty. You took a tentative sip and let the hot coffee sit on your tongue. Walnut? Praline? Maybe. It was definitely a sweet nut, but not hazelnut. Though Zadie’s hazelnut lattes were phenomenal.

“Praline latte.”

“Grounding technique, eh?”

You almost choked on your coffee as it went down. It was the Texan.

“This seat free?”

He gestured to the empty chair, and you nodded. He slid the chair out and put his to-go cup down before sitting. He took the lid of his cup and stirred his coffee with one of those little sticks. A few tables away, a spoon clattered to the table loudly, startling you. You twisted in the direction of the sound, surveying the diners. Nothing was out of the ordinary. It was just a spoon. An accident. That’s all.

“You’re like a deer, ya know. Easily startled.”

You turned back to him. Did he say something?

“Hmm?”

He just smiled and shook his head, replacing the lid on his cup. Then he slipped a strip of paper over. You looked at it, then at him, confusion lining your features.

“My number. If you wanna grab a coffee, meal, or whatever. Names Beau.”

Your stomach dropped, and that awareness shot to the back of your head. Why was he giving you his number? Why was he even wanting a date?

But you slowed your thoughts down. He was waiting for your answer. You pushed your fist into the soft flesh of your thigh.

“Thanks.”

He grinned, nodded and then left the coffee shop. As he returned to his truck, you watched from your seat beside the window. A big bright red thing. When he drove away from the lot, you pushed your coffee over and put your head on the table.

Fuck. Why couldn’t you just be normal for once?

Beau

Beau sat at his desk, tapping his pen against the surface. His mind was on the woman he met at the coffee shop. He wondered if it was even the right time to start getting back out there. Something about her propelled him to hand over his number like a puppy-eyed teen to a crush. He shook his head and tried getting her startled expression out of his mind. She was like a deer.

“What’s got you so deep in thought?”

He hadn’t even seen Jenny walk in. Her presence pulled him out of his mind and back onto the task at hand.

“Ah, nothin’.”

He started sorting the folders in front of him, absentmindedly putting them in an order he would ultimately forget later.

“Oh, come on. Everything okay?”

Her tone became more concerned, and she stood there, eyes softening to his plight.

“Nah. It’s really nothing…well…just this woman. Met her in the coffee shop, Zadie’s. I did something stupid and gave her my number.”

Jenny’s eyebrows raised in surprise.

“Wow. And?”

“And nothin’. She took it.”

Jenny stepped closer and leaned against the desk.

“Why are you so deep in thought, lookin’ like your brows about to join forces they’re that close together? What’s got you all tangled up?”

Beau furrowed his brow and rubbed his forehead with his hand, pulling a face at her words. He sighed and stopped organising the folders.

“How do you know when it’s time to get back on the horse?”

Jenny tilted her head, paired with another raise of her eyebrows. Then she leant back and shrugged her shoulders.

“Honestly. It’s different for everyone. But if you think the time is right, I’d say go for it. What have you got to lose?”

Beau nodded and smiled.

“So, who’s the lucky lady?”

Beau’s smile turned into a grin.

“Ah, you wouldn’t know her. Hell, I sure as hell don’t. But there’s something about her. I picked up a note that slipped from her wallet and handed it back to her, y’know. A Disney prince in real life.”

Jenny snorted and covered her mouth with her hand, hiding her laughter from him.

“What?”

She waved her hands no and turned away from his direction. She headed out, and Beau heard her laugh as she told Officer Pumpernickel.

After checking in with Emily, Beau started his truck and pulled out of the parking lot. He hadn’t yet received a text from the woman in the coffee shop. If she wasn’t interested…well, that was okay, and maybe he would just wait a little bit longer before getting back on the horse.

His phone pinged from a text message. His phone lit up, and his eyes glanced at the device attached to the dashboard. The text came from an unknown number. He grinned and continued driving. He passed Zadie’s and saw her locking up. She was alone, and he slowed to a stop outside her store.

“Evening, Sheriff.”

Beau nodded as he stepped out of his vehicle. He wanted to know more about the woman he had given his number to. And Zadie would surely know, right? He made his way over to her.

“That woman who didn’t order, you pretty close to her?”

After shoving a hat on, Zadie nodded and tucked stray curls behind her ear. It was a little chilly out.

“She told me someone gave her a number. Couldn’t believe my ears when she described you.”

Beau frowned, and Zadie shook her head, holding her hands up in mock surrender.

“It’s not my story to tell, but I do know this—you’re not her type.”

Zadie checked the door was locked and walked off, leaving Beau to ponder what on earth she meant. He looked down at the phone in his hand and opened up the text.

UNKNOWN: Coffee sounds great 😊

If he wasn’t her type, then why did she send a text?

Beau shoved his phone back into his pocket and returned to his truck. He slammed the door shut. Zadie’s words played around and around in his head.

He fished his phone back out, opened her text, and stared at her words. He pushed Zadie’s words to the back of his mind and replied to Y/N’s message.

BEAU: Sunday sound alright? 2PM?

Beau fired the text off without another thought, started the truck’s engine, and drove home. He still hadn’t gotten her name, but he knew that would all come in time.

#Healing Her #julesthequirky's fics #reader insert #beau arlen #big sky

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russic · 2 years

Text

Daisuke Kambe Husband Headcanons

Warning: 18+ Under Cut

Request: Hello! Can I please request Daisuke Kambe husband headcannons? Exactly like the boyfriend ones, but husband edition. Thank you so much in advance! ♡ Requested by @aya-daydreams - I hope you love it! ♡

Other requests can be deposited here. Please refer to my character list before requesting! If you wish to be tagged, do not request anonymously. Only two more requests will be accepted before the opportunity closes.

Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thank you for supporting my work. I’m flattered that you love my pieces and continue to request new material. ♡

SFW

You’re one lucky gal, Daisuke Kambe’s wanted to marry YOU. (Spare some change for the poor (me)?)

Let’s address the obvious: You have a shared bank account.

You get E V E R Y T H I N G you want.

You want a Louis Vuitton purse? You got it.

You’re determined to purchase new Christian Louboutin heels? Do it; you have the money.

Gucci Belt? You already have three.

Question: Did you ever meet someone who does the sexiest things... but indirectly? Thats Daisuke.

When Daisuke is concentrating on his intense stack of paperwork, he bites his bottom lip.

Daisuke undoes his tie with one finger (right pointer finger) when he arrives home from work.

When he’s hot (all the time), he rolls up the sleeves of his black button down.

Puts on his Rolex watch without look. He looks directly in your eyes. Its second nature.

Closes the button of his blazer with two hands.

If Daisuke performs any of these actions, you find yourself melting where you’re standing. You cannot believe this man is this attractive. He steals your breath away.

EVERYONE R E S P E C T S YOU

When you walk into Daisuke’s company, everyone is at your service because you’re “Y/N Kambe, the boss’s wife.” If you ask for something, you receive it within seconds.

Sure, Daisuke’s is a great husband - but please drive. For the love of God, please DRIVE.

Owns the most BEAUTIFUL apartment in New York City.

Daisuke has a HEART of GOLD:

Has a “soft spot” for children: He’s constantly donating towards foundations like Make a Wish, The Sunshine Kids, St. Jude’s, Ronald McDonald House, and Childcare Aware at least five times a year.

Donates under “Anonymous.”

When you’re riding on public transportation or standing in an elevator, and it starts becoming too crowded; Daisuke will give up his spot for older men, women, and children.

Despite assuming the role of the richest and kindest man in the world, Daisuke has social anxiety. He grows nervous and begins shaking when he is meeting any of your new friends. Overtime, your important loved ones will grow close to him, but expect to see Daisuke shaking in his boots if he’s meeting someone important to you. Since you’re married, he’s close to your family now; but he was a nervous wreck.

LOVES making you breakfast in the morning with his $1,000.000 waffle maker.

He always makes a HUGE mess because he makes his own homemade batter (Yes, Daisuke cooks. He doesn’t hire people to cook).

Nearly E V E R Y D A Y Daisuke wakes up early in the morning to assure your penthouse is spotless. He doesn’t like you acting as a “maid.” (He hires people three times a month to deep clean).

“You’re my wife, not my maid. No woman should be forced to clean because of poor societal standards.”

When Daisuke gets frustrated, his eyebrow furrow.

He cannot stand grocery shopping by himself. He gets confused by the littlest things.

When Daisuke can’t figure something out...

When people disrespect you, you’ll see him get angry.

Daisuke’s weakness is when you’ll tie his black tie in the morning before he leaves for work.

After making sure it the expensive fabric lays perfectly on his chest, you’ll stand on your tip toes to kiss him on the lips.

“Have a good day at work, baby.”

Make Daisuke’s lunch, write him “love notes,” and slip them inside of his lunchbox.

Every time Daisuke comes home, you’ll notice your notes aren’t in his lunchbox.

One night you were rummaging through his bedside drawer when you noticed a large black velvet box. When you opened it, your eyes began growing soaked with tears; within the box was EVERY NOTE you ever wrote to him.

NEVER NOT WEARING his black WEDDING RING engraved with your name.

If a woman approaches him, he politely showcases his wedding ring saying, “My apologies, I have a wife.”

Here’s a shocker: Daisuke H A T E S receiving expensive gifts.

Daisuke can buy anything. He’s tired of receiving expensive gifts, but you’re the ONLY person who knows. Instead, you’ll purchase him ten-to-thirty-dollar gifts that remind you of him.

Daisuke’s cheeks will begin to blush looks at the tiny gift you purchased him. As you begin explaining its significance, you’ll notice tears begin pooling into his eyes.

HUGE pictures from your wedding day are scattered throughout the penthouse.

Your wedding song was Perfect by Ed Sheeran. Without the lyrics.

There was a reason behind his madness: On wedding day, during your first dance, you placed your head on Daisuke’s shoulder and sang the lyrics to him.

U.N.I.T.E.D. F.R.O.N.T - You’ll never stand alone.

ADORES your intelligence. Daisuke fell in love with you, your personality, appearance, and especially your intelligence.

Throughout Daisuke’s entire life, women act brainless and submissive, but not you. He loves your smart mind and independent nature.

Still CHECKS YOU OUT all the time.

Especially when you’re wearing business attire paired with a lingerie top or simple silk dresses.

Match him. He will start drooling.

MESMERIZED when you take your hair out of a ponytail or claw clip. He LOVES watching your hair cascade down your back.

Daisuke NEEDS to be connected to you in public. He latches onto your hand lacing your fingers together, gently touches your waist, or places a hand on your thigh. However, his public displays of affection WILL NOT go further. He’s a classy man.

O B S E S S E D with K I S S I N G YOUR LIPS.

When you’re speaking to Daisuke, you’ll notice he’s staring at your lips imaging how soft they are.

You do not fight often, but it does occur. Especially when he puts himself in dangerous situations.

Due to a near-death experience, you grew frustrated and (unannounced) left your home to find a hotel room. Immediately, Daisuke tracked your location.

Within two hours, he knocked on the door. You saw your husband clutching a bundle of flowers and chocolates. With tears streaming down his face.

“Please, don’t ever leave. I’m so sorry - I’ll never do it again. Just don’t leave me. I NEED you.”

Plans the most P E R F E C T dates.

During winter, Daisuke plans to stroll around New York City to see the Christmas lights.

In the spring, he takes you to your favorite Whinery.

In summer, Daisuke privately rents fancy manors hoping spend a few private nights in with you.

During fall, you two curl up into a cozy blanket and light scented candles to watch your favorite horror films.

To surprise Daisuke, you often order tickets to see various orchestras across the country. He becomes enchanted by the sound of violin and piano music. However, his jaw drops during orchestra concerts.

IF YOU HAVE CHILDREN:

They are S.P.O.I.L.E.D. R.O.T.T.E.N.

The most popular kid at school because you two are the parents.

When they are little, they LOVE holding onto Daisuke’s pinky finger as you’re walking.

If your child must attend any sports games or music recitals, you two are always present. Daisuke is the dad constantly taking photos of your child.

Daisuke LOVES watching you rock your baby as you’re singing to them.

LOVES traveling around the world with you.

If you’re working on your laptop, Daisuke slowly comes up behind you. He kisses your cheek and slowly moves down your neck to your sweet spot. (Yes, he memorized where it is).

You’ll have sweet make-out sessions in the kitchen when you’re cooking together.

Gotta keep that spice in your life.

You’ll always claim, “I’m the happiest person in the world.” However, Daisuke denies your statement. No one can be happier than him. After years of being married, Daisuke still cannot grasp how lucky he is to have you.

“I love you with all my heart and soul, beautiful.”

NSFW

Despite being a sweet and loving husband, Daisuke will become a M.E.N.A.C.E in the bedroom.

Before you both start undressing, Daisuke pulls his black gloves off with his teeth.

Wear R.E.D. LIPSTICK

Daisuke LOVES ruining your red lipstick. Watching it smear across your (and his) lips as you engage in a heated make-out session, turns him on.

Often drags his thumb across your bottom lip to smear a line of red lipstick to your breasts. When you look down, you’ll notice a stained line where his thumb traveled down your body.

ADORES when you wear black lingerie.

Once, you matched some lingerie with Daisuke’s oversized blazer by draping his attire across your shoulders... You were nearly unable to walk that morning.

Seeing you wearing black lingerie accompanied with HIS professional blazer corrupted his mind and stained his pants.

Many individuals believe Daisuke would degrade his significant other within the bedroom, but I’m not buying it. You will feel loved and be praised as Daisuke’s wife.

“So goddamn stunning, baby.”

“You like that don’t you, Angel?”

“Baby, you’re so wet. You’re such a good girl.”

KISS HIS NECK - (Take Nike’s advice and) Just do it.

Takes his time worshipping your breasts. (He’s definitely a boob guy.)

If you’re arriving home from an important event/meeting in a gorgeous silk dress, don’t expect to be ignored.

Within seconds of closing the door, Daisuke pushes you to the wall and starts running his fingers over your nipples as he thrusts his tongue in your mouth.

If you enjoy walking around your home half-naked, (at any time) Daisuke can bend you over a hard surface, slowly push your underwear aside, and bury three fingers inside of your cunt.

“You can’t walk around half-naked if you don’t expect to be fucked, baby.”

LOVES seductively staring into your eyes and biting your bottom lip as he’s fingering your pussy. He enjoys the feeling of your walls clutching his fingers.

O.I.L. M.E.S.S.A.G.E.S. - Daisuke LOVES messaging your naked body with oil.

Enjoys fondling your breasts and running his fingers over your sensitive nipples.

When you’re lying on your stomach, Daisuke spends MINUTES rubbing and squeezing your ass.

Soon enough, Daisuke spreads your ass cheeks and buries his tongue inside of your lubed pussy. The sound of his oily hands traveling along your body as he’s eating your pussy is his own paradise.

Doesn’t mind paying for your nails because he imagines the sight of your pretty nails jerking off his cock.

Drapes his arms across the back of the couch as you slowly drop to your knees.

Daisuke intensely watches your every move as you’ve settled between his legs. Looking into his eyes, you’ll pull down his zipper with your teeth to remove his cock from his pants.

Licking up the length his cock, Daisuke throws his head back in utter disbelief.

“Fuck, baby. Please do that again.”

Melts in his seat if you start sucking his balls. You’ll notice Daisuke’s legs start twitching within seconds of running your tongue along his genitals.

Daisuke isn’t a lover willing to share your body, but he CANNOT ERASE the image of you having another women’s head buried between your legs as he watches. (He hasn’t told you this, yet).

However, no men. He’s the only man that can pleasure your body.

Wake Daisuke up by placing your soaked pussy on his stomach. When he’s awakened by you rubbing your pussy across his abs, he cannot help but grab onto your hips and increase the friction.

“Baby, you could have woken me up with a good morning. Now I see you’re only using me to cum. Here I thought you were a little angel, princess.”

“Yes, DADDY.”

Opposite of “Yes, daddy... but PASSIONATE LOVER

C.O.C.K.W.A.R.M.I.N.G.

You feel complete once Daisuke finally buries himself inside of your pussy. He refuses to move as you’re locking lips muttering how much you’re in love with each other.

“Daisuke, please move.”

“Not yet, baby. Let me stay inside of you.”

Expect MORNING SEX. The morning is the perfect time to slowly fuck your tight pussy because he’s hard and warm.

Daisuke’s favorite sex position is a classic: MISSIONARY.

According to Daisuke, missionary is a perfect position to look into your eyes, kiss your lips, suck on your neck, and watch his cock disappear into your pussy. (It’s the best).

SEX in the WATER

In the hot tub, Daisuke gently pulls your breasts out from your small bathing suit to suck on your nipples as you ride his cock. Chasing your orgasm, the sound of water splashing sounding like waves of the ocean.

Remember how obsessed Daisuke is with your hair? Well, he loves pounding into your pussy from behind to watch your hair drape down your back moving with every thrust.

I almost forgot, if Daisuke is fucking you from behind and you have back dimples, he buries his thumbs into them and forces your ass back on his cock.

LOVES OBSESSED with SEX TOYS.

Buys a new one each week.

Surprise... Daisuke presses a vibrator to your sensitive clit as he’s pounding inside of you.

Eases a diamond butt plug into your ass.

Daisuke will cum anywhere. Inside of your body - on your body - who knows?

Mostly spills him load onto your stomach or ass.

If Daisuke cums inside your pussy, he gathers the load with his fingers and brings them up to your lips.

“Open wide, baby.”

“I know you love the taste of our cum together.”

The aftercare is S.T.U.N.N.I.N.G.

Following an intense love-making session, Daisuke draws a bath for the two of you. You’ll lay between his legs as he messages and cleans your body.

“You can still walk, right, love?”

Honestly, I don’t think you can.

THANK YOU FOR READING - BEFORE YOU LEAVE...

I wish to apologize for my lack of posts. I try to create a requested headcanon two times a week, but it seemed impossible this week. As many of you know, I am a senior in college. This week has been hectic in regard to my major.

Thank you for your patience. ♡

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mythos-writes · 2 years

Text

His Challenge (2)

Billy Hargrove x (Female) reader

Plot: (Y/N) was a typically shy person in school. She never really had any friends and spent most of her time studying. But when Billy shows up at Hawkins High, things get thrown upside down

Part 1

Word Count: 1589

Warning: swearing, smoking, make-out session,

I do not give permission for anyone to repost/ post my stories, with or without credit. Reblogs, comments, etc. are more than welcomed, but please DO NOT copy and paste my stories that you may like onto another platform.

It has been a few weeks since (Y/N) had her interaction with Billy on the street. Billy has still been trying to get with her, but also he has been enjoying himself with his harem of girls. But Billy treats (Y/N) differently than the other girls. He doesn’t throw her away after he is done, he keeps her around him. Whether it is at lunch or in shared classes, he is always beside her, unless he is trying to get another girl to his harem.

Today was no different. You parked close to the exit, also away from other students. (Y/N) grabbed her (Y/F/C) canvas bag and started to walk towards the entrance of the school. That is when you heard a certain Camaro’s engine roar from behind her. She turned to see Billy pull in with his step-sister in the passenger seat.

With the middle school being in the same parking lot, a lot of siblings would drop their kid siblings off. They both got out, giving each other dirty looks before Billy made eye contact with (Y/N). He smiled before making his way towards her. Even though her mind was telling her to just start walking again, her body just stayed in place.

“Good morning bunny,” he says with his normal smirk.

“Good morning mullet boy,” (Y/N) returns. That caught Billy off guard and he started to laugh.

“Mullet boy? That’s a new one,” he says, still laughing. He places his arm on her shoulder and starts to push them towards the building. (Y/N) would never admit it out loud, but she liked being close to Billy. His body was always warm and the smell of his cologne always lingered on her clothes when he would touch her. It turned into (Y/N) guilty pleasure.

“So I have a basketball game tonight, I was wondering if you wanted to come to watch me play?” he asks while they stop at her locker.

This surprised (Y/N) a little. No one had ever asked her to go to anything, let alone someone asking her to watch their game.

“Umm, sure. It would be fun,” she says with a small smile. A big grin sprays on his face.

“You won’t regret it, hop along,” he says before planting a kiss on her cheek and walking down the hall. She watches him disappear to the crowding hallways. She places a hand on her cheek and just smiled. She was falling for the California bad boy and falling hard.

The last bell rang, signalling that the end of the day has come. (Y/N) had been nervous all day, waiting for the basketball game. She packed her things and quickly walked to her locker. She walked to the gym and quickly sat in the bleachers. Other students were watching, but also there were lots of girls there also.

‘Probably watching Billy,' she thinks to herself.

When Billy and his team came out, (Y/N) was mesmerized by his body and muscles. All of the girls squealed when they saw him. He looked over and gave them a wink. When his eyes met her’s, he sent her a small wave and a wink. (Y/N) waved back while the other girls glared at her.

(Y/N) just watched the game, and she was enjoying it. Soon enough the final whistle was called and the teams were making their way off of the court. She sat there for a little bit before trying to find him. When she went to the hallway where the change rooms were, you walked into Billy making out with one of the other girls.

She sighs before walking by them, bumping into them on purpose, and making her way to the parking lot.

“(Y/N) wait!” Billy calls out, but she ignores her. He ran in front of her to stop her.

“What do you want?” she questions, letting her anger show a little.

“What is wrong with you?” he questions, trying to play the tough bad boy.

“I don’t know, how about someone who finally wanted to be close to me, and I actually started to get feeling for but found out that he was just adding to his fuck list,” she says while walking around him.

He ran after her, but she didn’t pay any attention to him. She got into her car and quickly locked the doors.

“Come on, we can talk about this,” Billy reasons.

“You can suck a dick Hargrove,” (Y/N) says, tears now streaming down her face. His face cracked, his bad-boy image came crashing.

“(Y/N),” he says before her car roared to lie and pulled out of the parking lot, leaving Billy standing there.

When you came home, you greeted your mom before going up to your room. When you closed your door and saw some envelopes on her desk. Her heart started to beat quickly as she got closer to the mystery envelopes. There were three sitting on her desk. One from the military and two from universities, University of California, Berkeley and Stanford.

She placed the universities envelopes down before ripping open the beige envelope. She quickly read over the words and sighed. Her dad was ok and he was still going to be a couple of months before he returns to the states. It was neutral news, but she was happy that her father was still ok.

But then she moved to the two envelopes.

Y/N) didn’t think that she would hear back from the universities this early, especially since she submitted her applications at the beginning of October. She started with Berkeley. (Y/N) slowly opened the letter and started to read.

“I got in,” she whispers to herself while rereading the words making sure she was right. She then moves to the other envelope.

‘Stanford is hard to get in, don’t get your hope up,’ she thinks to herself. As she gets the letter out and starts to read, her jaw drops.

“I got in… I GOT IN!” she yells. She is jumping up and down. She ran out her door and down to her mom.

“MOM! MOM!” she yells into the kitchen. (Y/M/N) jumps a little before turning to her daughter.

“What is it, sweetheart?”

“I got in!! I got into Berkeley and Stanford!” her mother was shocked but then joined into her daughters’ excitement and jumping.

“That is so great honey. I am so proud of you!” she smiles and kisses her cheek.

“We are going to celebrate, tomorrow, you and I will go out for dinner and spend the day together,” your mom states.

“I would love that mom,” (Y/N) smiles before kissing your mom’s cheek before going back upstairs.

When she entered her room, she was shocked to see Billy sitting by her closed window. She almost screamed when she saw him there. She went over and opened the window

"What on earth are you doing here?” she questions.

“Can I come in?” he questions. (Y/N) looked to the door before grabbing the collar of his jean jacket and pulling him into her room.

She shut the window before turning to him. He was already reading her acceptance letters. He looked up to her and smiled at her. Not one of the smiles he would give to the girls at school or a smirk, a genuine smile. He then rushed her and pulled her into a hug. It shocked her at first but then returned the hug. Billy then picked her up and started to spin her around the medium-sized room.

He then fell onto the bed, leaving him hovering over (Y/N). They were both breathing heavier while looking at each other. His blue eyes kept looking down at her lips before he leans down and meets her lips.

She welcomed him in while wrapping her arms around his neck. His tongue slipped into her mouth, while she moved her hands under his shirt. He then started to kiss down her neck. (Y/N)'s haze started to clear before she was pushing him off. He looked shocked but sat up, letting (Y/N) sit up.

“No, yo-you have to go,” she stammers, trying to catch her breath.

“(Y/N) you have to listen to me, I came here to apologize. I didn’t think it would hurt you this much,” he states.

She crosses her arms across her chest, with tears glossing over her eyes. She looked down to the ground.

“I thought someone finally cared about me at this stupid school in the middle of butt-fuck nowhere, but I guess I was wrong,” she states with her tears spilling over her cheek.

Billy moved quickly and whipped the fallen tears and lifted her chin. Her (Y/E/C) orbs now met his ocean blue ones.

“I’ve been hurt so much in my life, I don’t need to be hurt again,” she says, hiccupping through her tears.

“Please, give me a chance, a propper chance. It is all I need,” he begs, both hands on her face. The bad boy (Y/N) knew at school was nowhere in sight. It was someone who cared for her that wasn’t her parents.

She gives a small nod before his lips were back on hers. It was full of passion. Something she had never experienced before. They break apart and rest against each other’s foreheads.

“Just a chance.”

“Just a chance.” They smile before kissing again.

Taglist

@justfangirlthingies

@charmed-asylum

#billy hargove one shot #fanfiction #fanfic #billy hargove x reader #billy hargove imagine #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove #Darce montgomery #stranger things one shot #stranger thing x reader #stranger things

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jvngkook97 · 2 years

Text

My Universe

pairing; idol!min yoongi x non-idol!reader

genre; angst, fluff

rating; 18+

warnings; minor cursing (nothing explicit), reader has a minor panic attack, overprotective suga baby, we love a caring and attentive boi

w/c; 2,606

Yoongi hated the flashing lights.

You were having a panic attack.

Bingo.

“Yoongs, can we go home now?” You asked meekly, voice sounding weak due to not getting much use of it for awhile. Your eyes must’ve been puffy for sure. They took the most damage.

And then you walked in sync towards the car garage in the now unnaturally calm atmosphere, security once again flanking the both of you now.

Just two lovers wanting nothing more than to collapse into each other in their shared bed, at their shared home, where they can create their own little universe of stars only they could see.

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sweetfirebird · 2 years

Text

one time I made Ray a baker

@orbisonblue I couldn't find it as a saved bookmark so instead of reblogging, I just c&p'd it.

(Though honestly, quiet grunty giant Ray serving everyone their morning coffees might be too much for the morning crowd. Maybe he is the evening barista. Anyway.)

a very old Ray as a baker AU

hahaha Is he still a werewolf? I bet he makes savory pies and quiches filled with ham and croissants rich with butter. I bet someone else normally makes all the sweet, delicate things, like someone else normally works the counter. But one day Penn, who runs the register and does their books, has to go do some family thing with her mother and since it’s a slow day she tells Ray he has to come out to help customers if anyone rings the bell.

He was right in the middle of preparing the beef for some spicy mini beef pies, done Louisiana style, when someone rang the bell and it didn’t put him in the best mood. He only had so much time to get some prepared for their lunch rush. He’d ask Murphy to go deal with the customer but Murphy had a special order of lemon tarts to complete. Someone had ordered them at the last minute. Ray was not fond of people who made huge, demanding orders at the last minute. Penn tried to remind him that business was business, but some customers needed a basic understanding that their bakery was not a McDonald’s. Things took time, even with the occasional magical assistance.

In his nose was an irritating mix of lemon and onion which did not improve his mood as he pushed through the bat-wing swinging doors that led to the main room. He knew there was a frown on his face but he couldn’t be bothered to care.

What did make him pause was the reaction from the fairy waiting by the counter.

"Oh a face like that should not be scowling so," the fairy remarked, tilting his head back to study Ray with wide, swirling eyes of brown and purple and green. The colors made Ray think of Mardi Gras, and King’s Cake, and frosting.

Ray didn’t usually care for frosting but for a moment he licked his lips at the imagined taste of sugar. Then the fairy spoke again. “Then again the frown suits you. You’re a were, aren’t you? Maybe fierce is exactly how you should look.” The fairy was not subtle in looking Ray over, but then they never were.

"Can I help you?" It came out a lot crankier than it should have. Penn would have had something to say about that if she’d heard it. Ray shrugged it off and didn’t apologize or explain his frown. The fairy would forget about it in a few minutes anyway once he got some sugar.

He was actually pretty low-key for a fairy, with much smaller wings than usual, as if he was part human. He even had a shirt on, unbuttoned to reveal a bare chest, glowing with health and sparkles, but still a shirt.

Ray headed over to the pastry counter after a moment’s hesitation. The fairy wasn’t going to want anything savory and he probably wouldn’t want a whole cake, but a box filled with individual pastries was always a fairy favorite.

"So you’re finally out here." The fairy’s gaze darted to Ray’s apron, coated in flour as well as hints of blood from the meat. "Oh Ray," he realized out loud and then stopped. He twirled his wrist and looked slightly guilty as he explained. "Penn talks about you."

"She does?" It was not what Ray meant to say at all but he fought off a blush and stared back at his winged admirer as impassively as he could. The fairy—half-fairy, smiled at him. It was possibly the kindest smile Ray had ever seen.

"Penn is wonderful," the fairy offered with that same beaming smile. Ray thought Penn was wonderful too. She had never once scoffed at a werewolf living in a city and working as a baker. He loved Penn. He had no idea why he’d frown harder to hear that the fairy liked her.

"She thinks the world of you, you know." The fairy leaned forward, putting his slender hands gracefully along the top of the glass case, sending glitter raining down the lace doily underneath the display of cupcakes that Penn kept out to tempt the lunch crowd. Ray realized his hands were also on the glass counter but couldn’t remember having moved forward. Yet there he was, the glitter almost close enough to touch him.

He could hear Murphy swearing at his crust in the kitchen but the sound seemed far away, drowned out by his own heart in his eyes and the rapid, hummingbird beat of the fairy’s heart right in front of him. He inhaled, noting a new scent, like fresh caramel and cinnamon, overlaid with a desire that somehow surprised him, despite the fact that this was a fairy, and fairies were, well, given to showing desire openly and often.

"You talk about me?" Ray could not believe himself. He didn’t know what had come over him. If anything he was known for not talking. Now he was asking stupid questions in a hoarse voice and he felt hot, hotter than usual, hotter than the kitchen at its busiest.

The fairy danced from foot to foot as he nodded. “I asked her and she was only too happy to talk about you.”

Ray blinked. His head was swimming. His vision seemed to sharpen on the increasingly bright cloud of glitter around the fairy. He thought the fairy’s mouth was the most beautiful mouth he’d ever seen. He considered whether, being half-human, the fairy might like one of his pies, or at least a croissant. Ray would fill it with dark chocolate and dip it in cream if the fairy would prefer it that way. Ray would feed it to him himself, anything to keep him smiling and happy.

He shook his head but the scent only got stronger, like crisp meringue and caramelized pears.

"You see," the fairy began again, leaning in and staring at Ray as though Ray was one of the bon bons on the shelves below, "I catch a glimpse of you from time to time, and you and your frowns are the shiniest thing I have ever seen. But you never come out. Not once. Not ever. And then Penn said—"

"Yes?" Ray was growling and too distracted to be embarrassed about it.

"Penn said she’d make you come out. As a favor to me. And to you. She said, ‘The wolf needs to indulge his sweet tooth’ and grinned and told me to come in today."

"And you remembered?" Ray couldn’t keep the surprise out of his tone.

The fairy’s smile was only a little saddened by his rudeness. “When it comes to what matters, Ray, fairies remember everything.”

"And I matter?" Ray took another long breath. Hope was sweet and light like powdered sugar. He didn’t know what that meant.

The fairy danced in front of him again, though wriggled might have been a better word. “You matter so much I put on clothes,” he offered, wrinkling his nose in a way that made Ray feel even warmer.

"I wouldn’t have asked you to do that," he murmured, only to hitch his shoulders at the fairy’s delighted laugh.

"I knew I would like you, Ray." It wasn’t something Ray could argue with. Weres also tended to like or dislike others immediately, although based more on scent than any "shininess."

"You don’t know me," he argued anyway, inhaling so much want/want/want that he pulled at his apron. He wanted to lean closer so he did, forgetting lemon and onion in order to breathe in blackberry jam and spiced peaches and rosewater. There was a sweat too, human scent, man scent, and the combination made him flush. The fairy smelled like the best things in the world.

"That’s easy enough to fix, isn’t it?" The fairy stuck out his hand. "I’m Cal.

His hand was warm. His glitter was like being sprinkled with chocolate dust. And he smiled when Ray brought his wrist up to his mouth.

#some kind of magic #au #being(s) in love #r. cooper #i will put this on patreon too

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luckyasfuck · 3 years

Text

maybe i just wanna be yours [k. bakugou]

A CAMBOY AU SERIES - PARTS 1, 2, [3], 4, 5

pairing // katsuki x female reader

tw // cussing, smut

warnings for this part // (kinda?) mutual masturbation

theme // enemies to lovers au, camboy!katsu au, college student!katsu and reader au, no quirk au

keys // y/n, l/n, h/c

words // 1.8k

a/n // pt. 4 will be written at 100 likes and posted at 5-10 reblogs :). i’m glad ya’ll are enjoying it, send criticism and/or ideas in my inbox.

previous part I masterlist

y/n’s head was no longer cloudy.

it scared her at first, her twitter username and bio must have gave it all away. part of her hoped that katsuki wouldn’t notice the notification, and if he did, well she hopes he’d be too dumb or oblivious to know it was her. but of course, bakugou fucking katsuki wasn’t like that. y/n would know, especially when she woke up him following her back.

fucking son of a bitch.

it was very obvious that it was katsuki. from his voice during lives to his demeanor with his posts: reserved. it was a bitch to think about, no matter what y/n did it was all that occupied her mind. she was aware of the comments she had left on his last live, her other hand too busy pumping her fingers in and out of her pussy to make more than two. that’s what bothered her. not only did she get off to her rival of all people, she did it twice. twice!

she thought about it the whole morning as she reached UA. a person came from behind and bumped her shoulder, rushing to the group of people crowding the main gate. y/n knotted her eyebrows, her mind was too all over the place to know what they could have been fussing about.

the crowd completely blocked the gate and she sighed, opting to take another route until someone grabbed her arm. thinking it was a teacher or a student, she turned around with a smile.

what the fuck.

katsuki stood there gripping her arm and her heart dropped. she yanks his hand away and glared at him, goddamn if looks could kill katsuki would’ve made it to heaven right about now. she stared at him with so much intensity, it almost looked like she was gonna go crazy over the fact that he stopped her, let alone even touch her.

fuck, that’s hot. katsuki gulped and mentally slapped himself after the thought. “don’t let the teachers see you-” he whispered, looking around. y/n sighed, “too late.” she looked behind him where their Biology professor stood with a smile.

“good morning, kids! i’m glad i found you two together, which is um... quite new, don’t you think?” the old woman greeted. katsuki rolled his eyes before facing her, standing beside y/n.

the h/c-haired girl didn’t like being near him at all, he had this weird aura and she didn’t know what his intentions were at all. and him approaching her for the first time without being forced by a professor after the shenanigans of last night? way too timed to be a coincidence, though she wishes it was.

“if you don’t know yet, our school’s competing with others schools with this little competition our school made.” the old woman got straight to the point. “the competition is that weekly for this month, a duo would take a quiz on a specific subject together. the subject changes every week and the questions get harder and harder! the 5 duos with the lowest scores are eliminated. it’s said on the board right there!” she pointed to where the students crowded.

“um, okay...? why are you telling us this then?” y/n questioned, adjusting her grip on her bag as the professor smiled again whilst katsuki breathed out a loud sigh.

“i want you both to be the duo that represents our school!”

“miss-” katsuki started, but got cut off. “don’t you think we’re the worst duo for this? i mean,” y/n laughed sarcastically. “you know we hate each other, everyone fucking knows tha-”

“language, miss l/n.” the professor’s sternly scolded and y/n flinches a bit at the change of mood. “yes, ma’am.” the younger girl looked down on her shoes. “i think it’s a good opportunity for the two of you,” the old woman pointed to the two students. “to get along. you two are really gifted, and i don’t want our school to lose this or get humiliated just because you two have beef with each other for reasons unknown.”

y/n was sweating under her jacket and she gulped as the woman walked away, letting them know her decision was final. katsuki breathed out a deep sigh, face-palming. “what are we gonna do now? knowing that bitch, she’ll tell everyone we said yes.”

y/n didn’t bother to argue with the blonde, she knew he was right. the crowd near the gate starts to disappear and she leaves without responding to katsuki. she doesn’t know where the fuck he got the confidence to talk to her so casually. more like she wished she didn’t know.

she knew that he knew.

and he knew that she knew too.

so simple yet so complicated.

class dragged out and y/n hasn’t spared a single glance at katsuki. she’s done this almost everyday since she met him, so it was easy to do. if only he’d stop staring into her soul, knowing she can see him in the corner of her eye.

katsuki’s always liked to stare, though he had nothing to stare at. and now he does, even he doesn’t like how much he’s staring. he’d snap out of it, curse himself and y/n too while he’s at it, then get caught in a daze while staring at her again.

multiple teachers approached them and individually asked them about the competition, their answers were the same the whole time, a bland “yeah, we’re competing as the duo.”

the students sat in their last class, blabbering around and not caring anymore. it was the last class, after all. they were tired and wanted to go home, but of course, they can’t. at least not yet. y/n didn’t feel like listening, she was tired too. doodling in her notebook, her heart drops when the professor calls her name. fuck, i don’t know the answe-

“oh. and mister bakugou too. i think it’s for the competition, the principal wants you two.” the old male lets out an intrigued hum. “don’t you guys hate each other?” y/n and katsuki walked out the room silently, filling the room with embarrassment on the professors side.

the female walked on the other end of the corridor, she didn’t like katsuki at all. his mere presence makes her gag, and she knows it’s the same for him too. that’s why they opted to stay as far away from each other as possible.

the ash blonde walks into the principal’s office with y/n hot on his trail. “take a seat.” the principal said, not looking up from his paperwork. “listen, you two. i heard a lot from teachers about how you compete with each other, but the both of you are the smartest duo here. all i want is for you two to study together and pass the quizzes as best as you can. you don’t even have to get along! and your grades will be perfect A+’s for the whole month, and if you win, maybe i’ll extend to a month more.”

y/n and katsuki’s eyes widened at the offer, it was so tempting. and education always came first before pride anyway. “fine, i’ll do it.” y/n was the first to speak while katsuki just nodded his head.

“it’s settled then.”

[ timeskip ]

y/n plopped down on her bed. the two of them got sent home early and were forced to share socials with each other. they were also granted permission to use the library whenever they wanted, and were given the schedule to study together from their last two classes until whenever they liked. and before going their separate ways, she told katsuki to text her a plan if he had one.

her phone dings and she automatically assumed it was him. and it was. just... a little more lewd. definitely not what she was expecting.

y/n cussed, “since when the fuck did i let this stupid fucking site give me notifications?” katsuki’s heavy breathing and occasional grunts boomed through her speaker and she hurried to click off it, until her eyes landed on his cock.

from what seemed like it, he had already cum once, the white liquid dripping from his slit down his lenght. y/n can’t seem to tear her eyes from the way he stroked his cock, so gentle yet so rushed, so... satisfying.

she shakes her head and kicks herself out of her absurd train of thoughts, thumb hovering over the ‘X’ on the top left of the site. “have you joined the live, pretty face?” she flinches when she heard his raspy voice, thighs unconciously rubbing together and panties already soaked.

“i hope you have, fuck. been thinking about you all day, mhmm~ why don’t you drop your little comments for me?” she could practically hear the smirk in his words, and it irritated her. but fuck, if he wasn’t so attractive. his perfectly sculpted body, his voice, and that pretty cock. it was that fucking cock.

“are you touching yourself, pretty face? you better. this live’s all for you.” katsuki moaned out, stroking himself faster. y/n watched as the chat went crazy, all of them confessing their sins to him like he was some sort of God.

and maybe he was, cause she found herself running a finger through her wet folds as she watched the camboy play with his tip. she shoves a finger inside, moaning with him before moving in and out parallel to his strokes.

katsuki comes again, his strokes coming to a half. he pants before smirking, “pretty face, lookie here.” he shows a fleshlight to the camera, his tip prodding at the toys entrance. y/n slowly adds another finger as he sunk the toy down onto his cock, both of them moaning.

they both fuck themselves into oblivion while thinking of each other, katsuki’s hips violently fucking into the toy as he hissed, “fuck, i bet your pussy feels a lot better.” y/n felt her cunt clench around her finger at the statement as she started to rub her clit as well.

she orgasms a little bit before katsuki shot his load into the toy, both their movements halting as they tried to catch their breath. she types in a comment before finally exiting the site, feeling slightly disgusted of what she just did. she shudders and opts on taking a shower before napping.

“you dirty little thing.”

katsuki felt his cock twitch at y/n’s comment. he ended the live right after, knowing she probably left already. the notifications for money he hoarded sat heavy on his account and he smiled, cleaning himself up after. the image of her with her legs open, her fingers buried deep in her cunt and her moaning uncontrollably was all that filled katsuki’s brain.

and he fucking hates it. he hates how much power the desires of his cock had over him when he was horny.

and the only desire his cock had was her.

next part I masterlist

taglist:

@princesspeach-00 @tamakisropebunny @bakugous-mamas @ll379333 @j1-914 @gazelle-des-pres @trashpandainahat @dickinson-67 @victoriaestein @amelie-chan @your-worst-obsession [ cannot tag last two ]

#bakugou smut #katsuki smut #mha #mha smut #bakusquad smut #bnha smut #class 1-a smut #bakugou katsuki smut #bakugou imagines #katsuki imagines #bakugo smut #bakugo katsuki smut

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seraphimguks · 4 years

Text

roses, poetry and jeon.

☾ pairing: bookstore employee!jungkook x reader

★ summary: Between the pieces of sappy poetry and dried rose petals hidden in every book you buy from the local bookstore; you fall in love with the anonymously enigmatic writer.

➳ genre: bookstore au, enemies to lovers-ish?, fluff, slight angst

☂ words: 12k

♡ a/n: hellooo! So, after countless days and nights working on this, I’m VERY proud as to how it came out to be. I don’t have any experience as a bookstore employee so please forgive me if I made some mistakes! Also, all the poetry compositions have been written by yours truly hehe. I really hope you guys enjoy this story as much I enjoyed writing it! Let me know how you felt (reblogs and comments go a long way!) c:

~*~

The sunlight filtering through your window was a familiar feeling. As it warmed your covers, you lazily turned to the other side of your bed hoping to find a cooler spot to resume your slumber. When not even cocooning yourself helped, you angrily pulled your blanket over your frame and let the heat take the win for this one.

You opened your eyes and took a minute to take in your surroundings. You felt like your party-hungry college student-self waking up one morning on someone else’s bathroom floor that wasn’t yours. In that reverie, you winced as you could almost taste the vodka at the back of your throat and the puke roiling up in your stomach.

A half open book lay face down on your nightstand and dried up drool pooled near the top of your pillow, possibly because you dozed off in between. You checked your phone, and was relieved that it was the weekend. There were no messages from work, you wanted to jump up in joy like you were a child on sugar rush.

Your job as a market assistant was good, and although you enjoyed the work, sometimes it felt dry and you lost all enthusiasm to continue. Your boss was an asshole, you really wanted to smack him. Your colleagues were no less either, but in all speaking you didn’t want to change your job yet because it paid well to give you a good apartment room and four-square meals a day.

Even thinking about work made you upset. You hugged your knees to your chest, resting your head on them because you were just too tired. Deep down in your conscious, you knew you couldn’t pursue your true passion for financial reasons and because it was just a dying profession.

Thoughts aside, you decided to treat yourself to the weekend by going to the bookstore just around your block. You loved bookstores, it was your favourite retreat growing up when your father would come and pick out the books you wanted to borrow. You were a very avid reader as a child, however as the homework started piling up as you went up a grade, there was no time to wiggle some reading time in between the cracks of your heavy schedule. Until now.

The bookstore opened five years ago, a cozy place that usually met a lukewarm crowd on weekends. You were a regular there. The owner, Kim Namjoon, was few years elder to you but was polite, handsome and very well read despite having a demanding position at his accounting job. Namjoon had opened the bookstore as a part-time thing to stay rooted to his love for literature, and since his profession earned well, he was able to recruit two or three employees to help him out when he was at work.

Ji Changmin was the cutest employee there, and honestly you couldn’t deny that part of the reason why you headed up to the cozy establishment was to see him. He had an ebullient disposition with lovely dimples that you couldn’t help but think was cute. He always greeted new customers with a wide smile and you stifled a laugh when you remembered his extremely loud shriek when one of the customers accidentally dropped a book. The poor boy almost fell from the ladder when he was trying to sort out the books on the highest shelf.

He was a dance major at the nearby University and his shifts were on the weekends, the two days when he was free. He often came to the store disheveled from practicing on his own, but he still managed to clean up and look flawless in a simple apron uniform.

You also knew that the first weekend of the new month meant fresh arrivals – so not only were you going to see your favourite employee (you would never tell Changmin, of course) and get some eye-candy, but also browse through the new novels waiting to be read by fellow bookworms like yourself. Maybe even eye Changmin over the top of the pages you read, and knowing him long enough he would probably be practicing few steps of his dance routine, and oh didn’t he look sexy.

And with that said, you were ready in flat 15 minutes.

~*~

The conundrum of living in cities was known to you – the whizz of scooters going by in the morning, the delightful screams of school children returning from class in the afternoon and the shutters of karaoke bars and clubs opening up for the evening.

That’s why you were so relieved that the apartment you were housing in was located in a sleepy neighbourhood, where the hustle-bustle was less pronounced. It was also near a subway that took you effortlessly to work. The street which you lived in mostly had all the necessities you could ask for, from grocery markets, a hospital, small cafes, retail stores, and of course, a medium-sized bookstore.

Fact and Fiction Bookstore was a store squeezed in between a medical shop and an apartment, just a couple of blocks from your place. It always had a wooden signboard that had “Open” and “Closed” in hand drawn letters and the interiors were festooned with decorative pendant lamps that lit the room in a golden halo. Walnut coloured, skyscraper height bookshelves lined the walls in even spaces, from classics to children’s books to study materials. There were few wooden stools scattered hither and tither and a small cash register at the extreme center, that led to the store room in the back. Overall, the shop had a modern yet minimalistic look that was to your liking.

As you walked inside of Fact and Fiction, you heard the familiar bell chime as you pushed open the doors. You made it just in time, and of course there were no customers there. You smiled a bit, knowing that Changmin might just be around and you could have some quality time with him for a bit. But instead of seeing Changmin usually wiping the bookshelves carefully, you were surprised to see Namjoon in his place.

“Oh Y/N! So nice to see you this morning,” Namjoon smiled, walking up to you. Namjoon never came on weekends, and if he did, it was when one of the employees were unable to work anymore. But that was very rare. Could that mean-

“Hey Namjoon,” You said, trying to mask the slight disappointment. “I thought you didn’t come on weekends?”

“I don’t, but now I guess I have to,” He laughed, returning to clean the bookshelves at the far right of the room.

“Why, what happened to Changmin?” You faked playing it cool by taking a book off the Bestseller’s shelf.

“He had to leave, he got scouted by an entertainment agency couple days ago. He’s going to be a trainee,” Namjoon shouted from the opposite side of the room.

As much as your heart felt like it fell from the sky, that you were no longer going to be ogling over the button eyed boy now, you felt a surge of happiness at Changmin finally achieving his lifelong dream to be an idol. It would take some years, but seeing him on the big screen – possibly even cuter – made your heart flutter. Of course, Namjoon was handsome too, so you didn’t mind stealing glances at him now that you no other choice.

“So, what are you going to do, now that he’s gone?” You asked. Surely the other two employees would be a replacement, you thought.

“I already hired a new employee; he’s going to be in charge in weekends now,” Namjoon wiped his hands on the cloth and disappeared into the storeroom.”

You silently nodded to yourself. It was silence now, just you and the books. Evidently you moved to the New Arrivals section, picking an interesting book cover and started reading the first chapter.

As soon as you ensconced in the setting, you heard the door open with the low chatter of what you assumed were female college students.

You heard footsteps. Someone from the other end of the store, presumably the new employee, greeted them in the conventional fashion bookstore employees usually do.

"What may I help you ladies with?"

The hair on the back of your neck stood. Your ears perked up out of its own volition. The vibrations in your heart quickened. Your knees suddenly felt weak, goosebumps erupting on every inch of your skin. You felt the air shifting, as if the coffee toned floorboard beneath you was angled and moved on its own accord.

You've heard that voice before. No, you knew that voice. You started to panic, leaving the book you were reading on the wrong shelf and scurrying past the aisles to the center of the room, where the voice seemingly came from.

You tried to recall where and whom the voice belonged to. The vestiges of your brain that locked out certain memories of your high school unlocked. Your mind worked like a tape recorder left on fast forward. If what you thought was right, it seemed as if that voice belonged to a certain five foot something, a mean, nitpicking, lanky teenager that went by the name –

Jeon Jungkook.

Your eyes widened immediately. The second you laid eyes on your high school enemy, your legs went cold. You stood there gawking at the boy – now a man – and couldn't for a second fathom why, in all places, he just had to work here in the same neighborhood you lived in. For a second you were cursing Namjoon, but honestly how could that innocent and charming aficionado, unalike Jungkook, know who your high school nemesis was?

Jungkook too, seemed flustered by your appearance, hand straight away behind his neck as he looked at you sheepishly. He aged well, you thought for a moment. He was no longer the gangly teenager that he was; he was bulky, with budding muscles on his arms if you strained your eyes just a bit. He grew out of his ridiculous mushroom haircut, settling for a fringe that slightly kissed the top of his eyes. He grew taller, no doubt, and this time he grew into his features, a square face with a visible jawline that could, quite literally cut glass.

Your history with Jungkook was clear as day. You guys were classmates in high school for four years. The then 15-year-old used to tease you every chance he got. He used to make fun of what you wore, the pieces of writing you wrote and why you always received the highest scores in literature class. Even when he asked for your help in getting better scores in English, he would always speak with a hint of sarcasm and impatience. You left high school cursing him through and through, but was happy you'd never get to see or run into him ever again. Until today.

"Hi Y/N," he said.

"Jungkook," you took a step forward, crossing your arms. This was habit you did as a form of defensive mechanism. Sure, whatever teenage Jungkook said to you during your high school years were long past, but it did put a dent in your self-esteem even if a bit. Maybe your teenage self still feels that the grown up Jungkook would once again sputter mean words to you even though high school was a good while back. “Been long.”

"Yeah, you're right. It's so good to see you again, I mean, I never expected," his voice soft, kind. Of all things, this was the most surprising. You tried to forget how shockingly attractive he turned out to be.

"Ditto," You said, unsure of what else to say. You looked down at your shoes, circling one foot around the other. "So how do you know Namjoon?"

"Oh, Hyung and I go way back. He used to tutor me in high school. Maths, geography, literature, you name it. I owe it to him, for making me pass. I heard he was looking for work so I decided to step in."

Oh, so that's why. The pieces were falling in place now. It did feel nice to catch up with an old high school ‘acquaintance’ of sorts, so you kept aside the qualms of your bullying experiences aside.

"Hey, now that you're here, I never got to say that I'm sorry for all the trouble I caused you in high school. I was dumb, stupid really, I mean, dumb and stupid are the same thing, but what I mean is-"

"It's okay, Jungkook. I'm long past it, to be honest. You're forgiven." You manage a small smile, your insides warming with his thoughtfulness. What was even sweet was that he appeared a bit nervous, even though the line seemed rehearsed - it made you think as if he'd been saying this apology to himself so many times as if he would meet you again one day and say it.

Now that the mood was lighter, few more customers began pouring in. You let Jungkook continue with his work even though you wanted to know details about his life now. You resumed reading the book, considered even making this the first purchase in a long time, before Jungkook waddled up to you suggesting that he was free to talk.

"So," Jungkook began slowly, leaning over the wall opposite the bookshelf. “You live here?

“Just a couple of blocks from here. What about you?”

“Oh no, I took the subway here. It’s bit far from my boxing center at home,” he smiles, bowing at new customers who already seemed to know what to look for. You noticed when he smiled that the one thing that didn’t change about Jungkook was his doe eyes. God, they were so misleading to anyone else who didn’t know him well.

And wow, that explained the muscles. Jeon Jungkook having his own boxing center? You pegged Jungkook as being unemployed after high school because if you recall correctly, his grades were dismal. But you can’t judge a book by its cover, right?

“Wow, boxing center huh? How’s that going?” You kind of feigned interest, nodding your head more than usual whereas you just wanted to read.

“Great actually. I took business in college, and it really got me thinking. So, I pulled some strings and opened a center, that way I could practice and so can everyone else. It’s going pretty good,” he nodded satisfyingly.

You give him a sad smile. He was doing something he liked. You were too, but not exactly.

“So, do you still write poetry?” He asks, knowing he’d been talking too much about himself.

Ah, that was your sour spot. Your true passion. Writing poetry. Those years in high school you realized nothing gave you true happiness than what the joy of words did. You never wanted to make a career out of anything if it didn’t happen to include writing. However, prospects in becoming a writer were perilously low and by the time you finished your first year in college, you realized you had a take different direction if you wanted to lead a financially stable life to pay off your loans.

“Oh, that.” You shrugged, another one of your defense mechanisms. Jungkook’s eyebrow lifted questioningly. You weren’t one to call poetry as ‘that’.

“Well, I learnt poetry can get you far enough as someone with a dying YouTube career, sadly as it is. It's a beautiful profession, but I needed to make ends meet. So currently I'm working as assistant marketing manager at this company an hour away.” You tried to seem as content as possible.

“How is it?” Jungkook now had to go and take to some customers but he was still listening to you.

“It's great!”

It's fucking tedious. Sometimes I want to scream, tear some papers and run around like a maniac.

“I love my boss and my teammates.”

My boss is a sexist, misogynistic prick and my teammates love to kiss his ass.

“There are days when I don't even think about poetry.”

I think about it every single second that I'm at work. I can’t even write cause I’m so packed with stuff to do.

Jungkook laughs as he aligns some books in the correct angles. "You were a good student in high school. With those grades, getting that job must have been piece of cake for you. Although, it must suck not to write because of your work.”

You’re telling me.

The book you were previously reading wasn’t that interesting as you thought. You moved over to the Poetry section, skimming your fingers over the covers of books. You saw a familiar title and took it out. It was the same book of poems that your school had given as part of your Literature syllabus. This book made you fall in love with words and what they mean. You looked inside and to your relief, it had all the poems of love, tragedy and loss that you came to love when you studied them meticulously when you were still a student.

Your favourite poems were I Dream of You by Christina Rossetti and Rooms by Charlotte Mew. You longed for a romance like the ones they described in stanzas, but only seldom in your life did you come across someone who shared the love of sappy poetry like you did.

“Rooms, huh? I love that poem,” Your head sharply whipped towards Jungkook’s direction, who was now curiously studying the book you had in hand.

Jungkook, liking poetry? The same lad who made fun of all the writers for being over-dramatic over love, was now saying he liked poetry?

“Surprising, I know. But like, if anyone found out the guy on the football team shared a secret love for prose and poetry, I would’ve been thrown out,” He shrugs lightly. You understood, your school solely ran on conservative values of toxic masculinity and favouritism. You managed to survive all of that, thankfully.

You and Jungkook then engaged in a discussion on the best poems and writing you guys read, surprised at his wide knowledge and the opinions he had to share. You agreed on many, disagreed with a few. But one thing you realized was that maybe meeting Jungkook wasn’t such a bad thing at all, you guys could finally be friends.

You decided to buy your book of poems. You haven’t seen this book in ages and it would be nice to add to your collection anyway.

As you handed over the book to Jungkook to check out, your hands touched only slightly. Jungkook gave you a small, shy smile, and you returned it. Right before he was going to give you the bill, his hands awkwardly hovered over the register for a moment.

“Wait,” he quickly remembered. “I have to put a stamp inside of this. It’s a way of checking what books are purchased. Work regulations. Give me a sec?”

You nodded and he disappeared into the store room for a good 10 minutes. You waited as you looked around the store for the nth time and wondering when you’d be back again. Jungkook suddenly returned, looking a little sweaty even though the air-conditioner was still on. He wiped his sweat using a towel next to the register and handed over the book to you with both hands.

You smiled at your purchase, tucking it in your bag and respectfully bowing to Jungkook before you decided to make your leave. As soon as you turned your heel towards the door, Jungkook awkwardly extended a hand to you.

“So, what do you say, friends?” His eyes were looking down, to hide his embarrassment. You thought it was cute. You extended your hand too.

“Friends.”

~*~

The sky had enveloped the sun the same way it always did during sundown. You settled comfortably in your duvet, taking out the book inside the paper bag that had the initials F.F. printed in large colourful letters. You placed the book gingerly between your legs as you scanned the hard cover.

You inhaled the pages, the smell settling somewhere in your bones. Then you began reading. It was sunset when you started and then midnight when you got to the middle. You held back a yawn as you decided to call it a day and then get to work from tomorrow. You were putting a bookmark inside the page you stopped at when something like a scrap of paper fell out of the book.

Carefully, you kept your book on the night stand and picked up the fragment and turned it over.

The paper looked as if it were torn from a notebook. What looked like a poem was written in the childish scrawl of a 10-year old, but it didn’t seem reasonable that a child would write something with such thought and maturity.

Thousands of libraries will never exhaust

How you wander in the loveliest recesses of my thoughts,

An angel fallen from heaven,

Am I merely just a spectre in your presence?

Your fingers possess secrets in every page that you write

But how would it feel my dear,

if the hands that touched your skin, were I?

Books may command your attention

But I mean no harm,

But beyond the classroom walls, here is my confession

That it fatigues me that to remain a boy who will love you from afar.

You stared at the paper for a while.

The poem was no doubt very beautiful, suggestive even. Unrequited love always made the best poems, you knew. You imagined a love-struck young boy penning down this very poem for his classmate in the back of his Algebra book, thinking it would never be seen by anyone else except him. What you loved most was that in each verse, the writer made his best effort to form an analogy between his lover’s passion for books and his passion for her. And to top it all, you and this girl shared your love for books.

But how did such a sensitive piece of writing wind up in your poetry book?

The paper didn’t match the quality of the paper of your recent buy, obviously. Namjoon was also not one to keep second-hand or used books in his store either. Was someone else reading the book and somehow slipped this inside? But the writing seemed very personal and it would be irresponsible for someone to misplace something like this.

You shrugged it off later, safely keeping the piece in one of your night stand drawers. Just when you were about to place your treasured book of poems in your book case, rose petals from the book fell to the floor.

Gasping, you picked the bunch in your hands, the petals bearing an angry crimson shade. Roses were your favourite flower, so you couldn’t but smell the petals that lay within your reach.

But if anything, it only multiplied the questions in your head as to how, when and why both the love poem and the petals were in the book in the first place.

~*~

You forgot about the poem and the rose petals until you found yourself going back to Fact and Fiction the next week. Surprisingly, work load was less but you didn’t want to be one to ask why.

It was a sunny afternoon. You got the news that a sequel to one of your favourite series released few days ago. You were sure that Namjoon would keep a neat pile of the sequel somewhere in his bookstore.

Jungkook was already at the register handing a customer his receipt when he noticed you entering through the glass door. He gave a small wave as you scuttered to the New Arrival’s section. Anxiously, you browsed through the section until you finally saw the familiar title.

“Yes, yes, yes,” you muttered, the pads of your fingertips feeling the glossy hardcover. You had only turned to the front page when a dark-haired someone appeared by your side.

“Seriously, The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes? Heard it didn’t get good reviews,” Jungkook smirks at you.

“Didn’t get good reviews my ass,” you mock him, going back to reading. The boy shakes his head and lets you read as he helps a customer find a certain book. More customers started to pour in, and soon Jungkook is up and running across the store every five minutes. You felt sorry for him, but then you realised with all his working out, running across a five thousand feet store was practically nothing.

It was just you in the store when it was evening. Jungkook leaned on the wall, resting his head on the counter in respite. You smiled dejectedly at him, wanting to say something to light the mood.

“So, how is Taehyung and Jimin? We couldn’t really catch up properly,” you said, sitting on one of the tools.

Jungkook sighed, almost happy that he could have one conversation today that wasn’t about foraging book titles of books ceased producing copies anymore.

“Jimin is good,” he said, wiping his sweat with the back of his hand. “He’s working at this law firm in Australia. Taehyung is pursuing his Master’s in Europe, something in cultural studies.’

“Wow,” the jealously in your voice was slightly apparent. You did work at a well-known company, but still, working abroad was a different league altogether.

“Gosh, can you believe how messed up we three were? Always fooling around, teachers said we wouldn’t amount to anything,” Jungkook reminisced, leaning his elbows on the counter now.

“I remember,” you laughed. “Especially when Taehyung pranked Mr. Choi with that whoopie cushion and Mrs. Kang when you drew her face on the board one day.”

“I think even Mrs. Kang laughed at that drawing herself, it was pretty impressive,” he smirks, lips breaking into a cocky grin. “

“And I think everyone remembers how you made Hae-ri cry in front of the whole class when you broke up with her,” you chucked, remembering the incident. Hae-ri and Jungkook sort of were going out in the middle of eleventh grade, but you always heard rumours how Jungkook was just playing around, like boys always did.

“Come on, Hae-ri and I were a joke. Can’t help it if she took us seriously,” Jungkook rolled his eyes. He clearly wasn’t interested in her as much as she was. As much as the others girl were really, even though to you he was what you always thought he was – a stupid, mean and lanky adolescent. “To think of it, I couldn’t help if I was a bit popular.”

“Oh, you were the cynosure of all eyes, Kook,” you smiled, looking down. It was true. Jungkook always carried an aura of confidence was that infectious. The kind of charm that made heads turn when he walked in the room, the type of startling charisma that was unnatural of a fifteen-year-old.

“Everyone’s eyes except yours,” he emphasised, crossing his arms over another.

“I mean, you hated me. We hated each other,” You state matter-of-factly, as you got up from the stool to the counter to make your purchase. “I can’t believe I even tried to be nice with you.”

Jungkook faced you with an expression on his face you couldn’t decipher. “I didn't hate you, not completely.”

That was news. You always thought Jungkook and his little gang were out to torture every weakling in school. Jungkook especially liked to torture you, so it would be an understatement to say you were a bit surprised.

“Which part of your icky teenage self,” you jabbed a finger in his shoulder playfully. “-even tolerated me?”

“The part that tolerated you thought you were special. And you still are, Y/N. Special.” He repeated.

There was a twinkle in his eyes when he spoke that you didn’t miss. Your heart felt like it was floating, warmed by the how Jungkook meant every word he said about you. Your stomach did this thing where it felt like a million bees were swarming around when you felt shy. A blast of warmth shot up your arms. The feeling lingered even when you pushed The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes in his direction.

Jungkook’s smirk didn’t wipe off his face after you had given your payment. The silence seemed unusual, did you just share an intimate, if brief, moment with your high school foe? Why had he called you special? You never stood out even when you were classmates, so why was he saying this now?

“I’ll go stamp this, yeah?” he cuts the silence. You nod, and he vanishes into the storeroom again. He comes back five minutes later this time and hands you the paper bag. You take your leave and silently leave the store.

What you don’t see is Jungkook’s gaze following you intently as you pull the door, walk across the street from the store and disappear into the night.

~*~

You returned home, your laptop greeting you with tons of messages from work. You cursed each of them, especially the one from your boss asking you to revise last week’s updates even though you emailed in a bunch of times saying you did. You pulled an all-nighter as you completed the tasks expected of you. By the time you were done, it was already two-thirty in the night.

You flopped on your bed, your body relaxing as it hit the soft covers. You breathed a sigh of relief as you pulled out your purchase from the paper bag.

You suddenly remembered the poem and the petals. You decided it would be weird, but you turned the book over as if you were expecting the same contents to pool from it. And sure enough, you were right.

Not one, but two pieces of notebook scraps settled onto your lap with some blue coloured rose petals. Your mind did a mental ‘what the fuck?’ before picking up the petals and placing them on your night stand. You picked the scraps and read them, never expecting what you would find.

Help me, for I am surrounded by loquacious ghosts

Yet you stand there, a beauty in flesh and bone

Women would die for me,

yet my mind echoes only your name

Break me from my reverie,

To kiss you in the blue sweater that hugs your delicate frame

You eye me with pure hate, yet is I to blame

I treat you wrongly,

But only to hide my love for you – if you push me away.

You read the second one now.

Blue,

It is the colour of the sweater you wear every first Monday of the month

The pencil you write poems at the top of your chemistry notebook,

The rain as it brushes against your skin when you're late to class

The look on your face when you're happy

The sound of my heart when you walk past my seat at the cafeteria table

The smile you wear when your friends hook their arms around yours

And my love for you that will never be requited.

Cold sweat broke out on your spine. This wasn't some love poem that was mistakenly placed in your book. It felt like the poems were directed at you. Even the first poem made you feel slightly suspicious because you had a resemblance to the girl mentioned in it.

You tried to knit all three poems together, because all those years in poetry class made you an expert at analysing. You found a connection. They were written by someone in high school.

The love for books, the pencil, the sweater, the behaviour traits, all reminded you of your teenage self from years ago. It was so intricate, as if this person had been observing you through a lens in class for years.

It was someone that you hated and he hated you too, but then again, you hated a lot of people in high school, and they too, you felt, disliked you. You had few friends, however good ones, all of which whom you remained in contact today.

Who could this person be? He definitely had outstanding poetry skills, the words worming its way into your heart ever since you had the first poem. You felt shy. Someone, in your class, liked you behind a mask of hatred. Your body contracted as you concluded that you had a mystery writer sending you messages with every book you bought. You wondered why you were living in the dark for a long time.

How had this not happened earlier? Why was it that before buying the book, it didn’t seem to have any individual contents in it, but after taking it home, it did?

You wanted more answers. You wanted to write back, but whom would you be writing to? You didn't know this person or his address. You realised that this was a one-way connection. You could only build your assumption if you had more poems to build them on.

And that could only happen if you happened to go to a certain bookstore couple of blocks from your apartment.

~*~

You went there the next weekend, on a cold Sunday morning. You kept the mystery poet a secret to yourself, although it haunted you for the whole week while you were at work.

As the weeks ensued, work was piling up, but you felt at peace when you were there among the books and Jungkook's company. The weekends went by with Jungkook narrating funny stories of certain customers he encountered, high school memories, work schedules, and of course books.

“No, Dark Places was absolutely not one of Gillian Flynn’s best works,” you commented, one evening.

“But the Satanic vibe was cool, you have to admit,” Jungkook’s voice was lost as he piled books in front of a stand.

Jungkook was a diligent worker for a newbie; he polished the shelves and smoothened out dog-eared books. He always checked the register and counted the cash, aligned the books the correct way, made note of what books were available and those which needed immediate restocking. He lost his callous attitude of high school years, but you berated yourself for always comparing his high school habits to the Jungkook now.

You rolled your eyes. “Have you read Karin Slaughter’s books though?”

You could feel his smirk from behind the stack of books. “Pretty Girls.”

“The Good Daughter.” You argued.

“Pretty Girls was grislier. I like.” God, you wanted to lunge a book at this guy. Everything gory or Satanic amused him, it seemed.

Jungkook was funnier than you imagined with the comedic antics he sometimes pulled off, by failing at twirling a book in his hands to accidentally hitting his head on the storeroom door behind the register. He sometimes flirted here and there, which was mostly harmless. But you couldn’t forget that time in the store when he called you special. The look he gave, the sincerity behind it, how genuine it felt.

You kept buying books and of course the love letters kept emerging along with the roses. You still had no idea who this person was, but as time went by, you kept falling more and more in love. You kept the petals in your journal. They did dry off, but you kept them regardless. You always kept the poems in your drawer, neatly piled into one corner. Sometimes, you pressed them close to your chest as if the words would somehow leap up from the page, dissolve into your rib cages and settle near your heart.

But one stormy morning that you were at the bookstore, you were weighed down by how work was progressing. The company had faced some setbacks, so you were responsible for getting the hearing from your boss. You tried to mask your sadness until you see Jungkook doing something suspicious near the centre of the room.

There was a small stand, where usually books were heaped into a mountain of paperbacks. It looked as if the boy was trying to pile the books in a house of cards fashion. The experiment was bound to fail, and Jungkook was lucky Namjoon was never here on weekends to see what was about to be happen.

But you help him instead.

“Do you like working here, Kook?” you tried to sound nonchalant. You hand him two books at a time, while he dexterously stabilised a book on top of another.

“I do,” he replies. “It’s relaxing. Especially when I’m not sweaty and working out all the time. Why?”

“It’s just, I hate my work environment you know, and I miss writing– “

Jungkook eyes you worriedly as he stops midway through the activity. You don’t notice and hand him some books anyway, but they fall right at the edge of the pile and the whole stack falls down on both of you like dominoes.

Jungkook falls back first on the ground, catching you as you fall on his stomach. Your faces are inches away from each other, but you rest your head on his chest, tears stinging the corners of your eyes.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry! See? I’m such a mess. I can’t do anything right, I’m a failure, I’m-“

Jungkook rests his hand on your back and the other hand gently stroking your forehead. You picked up on his hesitance, as if he was asking your body to relax as a signal that he was comforting you. You did relax, you felt as ease. The weeks when you were around him, you never felt comfortable with anyone in your life. Let alone the fact that he was attractive, erm, cute – but he was probably one of the best people you knew.

“Shut up okay? You're amazing. Those assholes at work don't know how talented you are. You're amazing.” Jungkook whispered, rubbing your back in small circles. “I…I sometimes don’t like working at my centre either. The toxic masculinity over there makes me want to puke. I hate the environment, and sometimes I think I’m the one who sparked it.

He wraps both arms round you now, and you're reminded again literally, that being surrounded by books and Jungkook was what led you to Fact and Fiction every weekend. You two lie there for a good ten seconds, before you realised that a customer may walk in any moment. There was also the mess to sort out.

You help Jungkook up, wiping your tears with the back of your hand.

“I can’t really see you cry, I start crying too,” Jungkook jokes, as he hands you a tissue from the tissue box. Always so concerned, you took note. “Is there something that keeps you happy apart from books? Y-you could try and do that?”

"Actually,” you sniff. “There is something that keeps me happy these days. Someone keeps writing me love letters."

There, your secret finally revealed. Jungkook gaped you, as if he didn’t believe it. Honestly, you didn’t either until you made the connection yourself.

He proceeded to ask you details of the discovery, and was shocked himself when you told him of how you thought the person could be someone from high school. It really got him thinking. He named each classmate you’ve ever had an interaction with, but you couldn’t picture any of them having any interest in you.

How did your mystery writer/(lover?) know so much about you? Little details, little quirks. Was he a stalker? But how did he know exactly which books you bought and when?

"Well, maybe you should write something of your own too. Maybe like, in response to how you feel when you read his poems.” The boy suggested, picking the books from the floor, dusting them before putting it in a box next to him.

You mirrored his actions. You pondered over the thought for a while though. Writing to him would be a way to practice your writing that you thought you lost. It was a great idea; you were doing it for yourself. And then if you ever meet this mystery guy, you would show him too.

“Wait, before you leave,” the doe-eyed boy stops your tracks. The books were successfully placed in the box, and you were helping him put it in the sore room when he asks you to wait.

Jungkook walks you toward the end of the room. He picks out a book and shows you the cover. It’s a limited-edition copy of one of your favourite authors of all time, and signed. You wondered what it was doing at the back, when it should be out in front.

“I saved this copy, just for you,” Jungkook’s cheeks blushed a tinge of pink. “I remembered how much you liked his work in school. And I’m willing to give this to you, half the price.”

You ran and hugged Jungkook the tightest hug you had ever given someone in years. He laughed, returning the hug. You felt like the luckiest girl, customer, (whatever!) and you almost felt bad because you had gotten something exclusive for a discount because you knew the employee, anyone else would have paid fortunes for this. You thought about declining, but Jungkook really insisted.

“Don’t think about refusing. I’ll go stamp this before you make your payment,” he says before you could protest.

Really, where had Jungkook been all this time? So much kindness, this boy was brimming with endless love that you thought you didn’t deserve. After a while, he comes out and you hand him the cash.

As you say your goodbyes and make your leave, Jungkook says “And please don’t cry, wouldn’t want to taint that pretty face, right?”

Something stirred in your heart. You had just started seeing Jungkook as a man, was it now that he started seeing you as a woman? A blush creeps up your neck as you contemplate the thought all the way home.

~*~

You carefully keep the purchase on your bed. Taking out the scraps of love poems from your drawer, you needed to look at your muse before you started writing on your own.

You stretched your hands, pen in hand, ready to recreate wonders when it hit the paper. But you were blank. It’s like your mind had wired out all the imaginations you had kept stored for the last couple of years. You fell flat on your desk, exhaustion over coming you. Had you really lost your touch? Your parents, teachers and friends always praised you for your writing skills, have you let them down? But you weren’t really going to quit this easily.

You looked at your purchase. There must be another poem hidden inside. As if controlled by an entity, you opened the book, flipped the leaves and saw the very page sitting in between the middle pages. You removed the pink rose petals too, your guy never seemed to forget adding them in. You turned the scrap over.

Today I heard your laugh

Setting my heart in a frenzied trance

The purest sound even the sweetest nightingale could not match

Like fireflies bouncing against thin glass

The most beautiful treasure, I can never have.

Your eyes watered. It was a poem tinier from the rest, but this one struck something within you. “Like fireflies bouncing against thin glass”, the words feeling sweeter every time you repeated them. You couldn’t believe someone, who was so far from you, could love you this vehemently.

Suddenly, you had found your strength. You were going to write. You were doing this for him. For you.

You picked up the pen and the words just came to you. It was a struggle, but it was a start, you console yourself. You never imagined you would be writing a love letter to someone you had never seen, touched and spoke to, but you didn’t care. Your hands worked away, filling the page in front of you.

But your mind echoed the same mantra over, and over again: I am doing this for us. I am doing this for us. I am doing this for us.

~*~

It's three weeks later that you decide to do an experiment. It's been quite a while since you've been to the store, and the poems stopped coming as well. Work was driving you crazy. You knew sometime in this week you had to drop by the bookstore, so you decided to see if your mystery lover came on the weekdays.

Another employee whom you didn’t know personally and Namjoon were there. Jungkook, of course, was nowhere in sight like you guessed. Namjoon gives you a wave from the register as he speaks to a customer. You knew that you already had too many books, but today was crucial if you wanted to see if your experiment worked out. You could also return the book after you bought it, granted you brought it in after fifteen days. You could buy a book for someone else; your mystery man would never know you were buying it for yourself. Yeah, that’s what you decided do.

You picked up a random title from the shelf and made your way to the counter. The store was mostly empty, except one or two customers. Everybody was busy on a weekday.

As you made your payment, you noticed Namjoon stamping the inside of the book before handing it over to you. The counter was designed in a way so that a person standing a normal distance away couldn’t see what was inside of it. So naturally, your eyes furrowed in confusion.

“Don’t you have to go inside and stamp?” You asked, wondering if Namjoon made the wrong stamp. Even the brightest minds can forget.

“What do you mean? Namjoon looked at as if you had said the most ridiculous thing ever.

"Like whenever Jungkook checks out a book, he goes into the storeroom and stamps? It’s a rule?" You weren’t being sure of what you were saying right now. You sounded like a poor student explaining the concept of rocket physics to a professor.

"Oh, I don't know why he does that, since there's already a stamp here." He holds up a plastic rubber stamp like someone would hold an antique. "And I mean, you could do that, since there are few spare ones in the storeroom, but that’s like extra effort you have to put in. I'm not sure why he does that."

You nodded, kind of silent.

"Does he do that to you or for every customer?"

You realise you never even noticed this. Usually when the store had customers, you were engrossed in reading or looking at books. You never even wondered if Jungkook went to the storeroom to stamp all the books that were purchased. The bookstore would be very crowded during weekends, and the time taken for Jungkook to go and come back usually takes five or ten minutes. Surely, he would’ve taken one of the stamps to the counter itself cause the journey would be too tiring. But you didn’t know for sure what he did for other customers. You slapped yourself in your head for being so ignorant.

You left the store with an uncertainty heavy on your chest.

You return home. Billions of questions bounced from one corner of your mind to another in an intense ping-pong battle. What was worse, when you looked inside the book you bought, there was no poem. No rose petals either.

Could it be that Jungkook knew your mystery guy? Was he the one slipping in the poems when you made your purchase? Did your guy come in the middle of the week and hand Jungkook his writing and leave it up to him to do the favour? Is that why there were no poems or roses today, cause Jungkook wasn’t at work?

You didn’t know. All you knew was that the best way to handle your doubts was to confront Jungkook.

You noticed that you needed to buy groceries for the night. You just had take-out for three days in a row and now the thought of Chinese food made you feel icky. You hit yourself on the head for not buying groceries earlier after you were at at the store. You took your purse and made it in time at the grocery before closing.

Once you were done, you stepped out with your heavy paper bag and saw it was pouring heavily. Pedestrians were already waiting outside the store, hoping the rain would subside soon. Nobody suspected today that it would rain and neither did you.

“Fuck,” you muttered, you didn’t bring an umbrella. The bookstore was just across the grocery. It had a bigger shade, enough to cover seven people from the rain. You silently thanked Namjoon’s choice of constructing the store as you launched yourself across the street.

Jungkook was standing under the shed, looking for something in his bag. You didn’t notice he was there until he called your name.

“Y/N!” his eyes lit up. Desperate, your eyes searched his hands. He was carrying an umbrella. You breathed easier.

“Oh hey,” you say, the rain making it hard for you to be audible. Raindrops pounded against the shed like fists banging a door. “I thought you didn’t work on weekdays?”

“I don’t,” he said. “I was meeting someone here for work.” You nodded, wondering how would bring up the topic of the poems. Maybe you would ask him on Saturday, two days from now. Right at this moment, didn’t seem like the best time.

“Would you mind dropping me off at the subway, though? It’s just near my place,” you knew you sounded desperate, but you needed to get back home. You remembered he had to take the subway to get home too. Jungkook violently nodded his head as he opened his umbrella. You both started walking, shivering slightly at the cold.

"Hey, come closer. Don't want to get your pretty outfit wet," Jungkook huddled you closer to his side, wrapping a hand around your waist for purchase. Your cheeks reddened, maybe at the way the wind whipped your skin or the fact that no one's ever been this near you.

As the space between you and Jungkook closed, you looked at the boy who was always so concerned with your well-being. He had been occupying your thoughts lately. Maybe because of his dorky personality or because he was very smouldering in person, but either ways, your experience of crushes told you that this was the beginning of another infatuation. But you, liking your high school classmate? As much you fantasised him from time to time, you had to resist thinking about it. He maybe had a girlfriend, who knew? Someone as wonderful as him deserved one.

But in this moment, under the incessant rain where both of you trying to turn his upturned umbrella, Jungkook breaking into bouts of laughter as a car splashed water on your clothes, and you complaining of your matted hair – you felt so happy. The puzzle of the poems was longer a worry to you. All you wanted was to be happy in the moment, with Jungkook.

“So, are you going to give this mystery guy a chance?” Jungkook's voice strained to speak over the rain. Ah, coming to the point. You had been so sure you wouldn’t bring up the topic, but destiny had other plans.

“How am I supposed to give him a chance when I don't know who he is or how he looks like?” You say, uncomfortable at how wet the hem of your jeans was. You were walking at an uncomfortable speed, trying to avoid the puddles in your path but in vain.

“He surely knew what he had to do to get you swoon over him,” Jungkook laughed, as if he was so sure. He was right though, strangely.

“He does have a way with words,” you agreed. The wind was horrible now, pulling your top over your midriff. "I'm scared cause maybe the day he'll come up to me, I'll look like trash."

"No, you never look like trash. You look pretty in whatever you wear, Y/N." Jungkook scoffed. You blushed again. God, why was it so hard not to blush in front of him? “But you do know what's coming.

“What is?” Honestly your mind had been occupied so much about work, and your anonymous lover than you had no time to think the next Jungkook wanted to say.

“Valentine's Day.”

As soon as you heard it, something in you jolted. Two days from now was Valentine’s Day.

"Do you think he might make his appearance that day?" you asked, your voice high as a sparrow’s chirp. Jungkook offered to hold your grocery bag in return for holding his umbrella. You obliged.

"Can't really say that, but would it make your day if he did?" he continued.

“Oh my god, yes,” you stressed on the word, even slightly a little bit anxious because you wouldn’t know what you did if he came out of nowhere.

“Does someone have butterflies in their stomach now?”

"Stop it.” You nudged an elbow at him. You have no idea what he does to me."

"I do know." He holds his gaze longer this time. The rain finally subdued. You saw something in Jungkook's eyes then, you're not sure what – sadness, hope, expectation? But whatever it was, you felt something reverberate in your ribs long after he tears his gaze away.

"I think this is where we part." You say, brushing the hair from your eyes. You were still holding his umbrella, waiting for the right moment to give it to him.

Jungkook suddenly takes your free hand and squeezes it in his own. "Whatever you do, Y/N, please give that guy a chance. He does seem to really like you." He tucked a hair beside your ear, you shuddered a bit at the cold touch.

Why was Jungkook being so persistent about it? Why was he so serious when it came to you and your mystery lover? Whatever the deal was, Jungkook's expression didn't waver. He was right too, and that strengthened your resolve to accept this stranger no matter who he was. You nodded, which made Jungkook only happier.

"I wish I can see him." You sighed, wondering if Jungkook was thinking what you were thinking.

"Y/N," Jungkook leaned over to whisper in your ear. "Maybe you just need to keep looking around you, because he could be so near to you, but you just don't know it yet."

You still don't understand what the raven-haired stunner meant by his words when he hands you the groceries, leaves without his umbrella and descends the subway stairs.

~*~

It was Saturday. Valentine’s Day.

Jungkook woke up in his one-bedroom apartment, a little shaky. Today was the day.

As he reached over to pick up the backpack he took to work, he unzipped the tiny front pocket. Scraps of paper fell out from the seams, like snowflakes on a wintry morning. The twenty-three-year-old looked at each piece, running his fingers over the love poems his high school-self had written to you. If Jungkook had told his angsty teenage self that someday the poems he had written at the top of his history notebook would be read by you, he would have never believed himself.

Jungkook always liked you.

It wasn’t love at first sight, heck, he didn’t believe in that. He didn’t mind you at first, but he realised what made you so special than the rest. You were strong, maybe not in the vocal way, but in the way you saw the world around you. When the teacher complimented how well you would write your answers, you evocative your poetry was – Jungkook could never imagine how a shy girl, her nose so lost in a book at the corner of class would do that.

So when Jungkook read your answers one day, or when he would sneak a glance at your writing, he felt insecure. The real reason why Jungkook always teased you was that no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t write as well you did, put his mind to something that you did so well, to be so intelligent, strong and soft. From you, he understood that strength doesn’t equate to being aggressive, or overly vocal. It can be in the way you can showed kindness as well.

So that’s why started pestering you, to hide his own feelings he could never reveal to anyone.

Jungkook never forgot how even after he teased you repeatedly in class, you would always give him an extra pencil when he wanted one, or a reassuring smile when he was anxious before a test. That was the only limit of his interactions with you, but it was more than enough.

He quickly took notice of you in the most subtle ways. The pencil you wrote with, the way your hair was styled one morning, that blue sweater that was apparently your favourite. How you passed by his seat at the cafeteria every morning to sit with your friends. How opinionated you were about certain authors and their writing styles. Even when Jungkook had to put up his ‘popular boy’ persona, sometimes he would tune out all the meaningless conversations he had just to hear how soft your laugh sounded when your friends showed you something funny.

You quickly became his muse. Jungkook was good at physical activities. He was popular, everyone had expectations from him to go on to college with a football scholarship. Everyone looked up to Jungkook cause made himself look like an idol. But in reality, Jungkook had nothing to show except for a fleeting charisma. Jungkook was good at physical activities, but not at words.

But you made him fall in love with words. Like everyone else, he was at first impatient at why poets and writers took so long to get to the point. But he learnt from you that art was patience. Love was patience.

He struggled, for weeks, months, trying to get the right words out of him. How he felt for you, how you made him feel. He now realised how hard it was express your feelings in few words. But with some practice, Jungkook eventually got there. He had begun to read more, surprising his parents too, but he eventually loved the activity. It calmed him. Soothed his nerves. Staying up late at night just reading, Jungkook noticed his English answers were improving. When he received the final grade, it wasn’t great. But he was satisfied. His whole gang slapped high-fives with him asking how he cheated his way through the exam successfully. He bit his lower lip, a habit of his, as he shrugged at them in response. The real reason was a pretty girl who always sat in the corner of class.

He kept his proudest pieces of poetry hidden in his bag for so long, secretly thanking you for realising a part of him he never knew existed. He took the bag everywhere with him, serving as his strength. His true, strength. Not the kind that had him running 20 laps around school and bench press 30 kilos to impress his coach.

He always regarded you as his first love, not Hae-ri, not any of the girls he went out with as a joke. He was sad when he graduated high school, but was too shy to come up and thank you. He regretted not saying anything to you then, knowing life is not one to give second chances.

But when Jungkook saw you in the bookstore for the first time, part of him thought this was fate. His feelings resurfaced, stronger than ever. He still had the scraps of poetry in his bag in the storeroom, he could just retrieve them and slip them into the book you would purchase. Maybe even some roses Namjoon liked to decorate on the inside.

When you slid your book the counter, Jungkook had deliberated the idea. But he knew that everything happens for a reason, so he decided to do it anyway. You would never know who it was, but at least he could tell you how he felt for you in one way. He kept repeating this as many times as you bought something from the store. He loved your company, he felt like the luckiest man in the world. Never had he felt happier when he was talking to you, getting to know the real you.

So that’s why he wanted to reveal himself to you, behold! I’m the writer behind all those poems!

Valentine’s Day would be the perfect opportunity to do so. He just hoped, wished, that you wouldn’t push him away. Or, be disappointed. That was Jungkook’s fear that kept him wide awake at night. Could you have been hoping for someone else? Did you not look at Jungkook the way he looked at you?

He would only know today. He was bracing himself, when he got changed, when he showered, when he raced to the subway and made it sharp at ten am.

Namjoon was already there, smiling at the young boy wondering why his cheeks were so red. Jungkook’s heart never beat that fast. His heart felt like it would be sliced open by a hundred bullets. He quickly put on his apron and pretended to be busy arranging the books on the middle shelves in proper order. It was already an hour when he heard the door open.

Jungkook’s feet almost leapt up when he saw you coming inside. He waved, a bit too much he thought, and took few seconds to gather himself together. He was ready to approach you any moment now. He would take your hands, press them against his chest and say: “Its me, Y/N. I’m the anonymous writer you’re looking for.”

Jungkook edged himself forward. All this time he’d been waiting for this.

Until he sees Namjoon walking up to you first.

~*~

“Y/N,” Namjoon approaches you. You didn’t expect him to be talk to you, since he was always so busy on weekends. He cleared his throat. “I just wanted to say…that you look pretty today.”

“What?” you laugh, nervously. Namjoon calling you pretty? All of a sudden? You never even thought he even looked at you beyond a friend. Yes, he was very good looking, Jungkook must have talked about you to him, hadn’t he? The former always complimented on your appearance, making you smile inwardly.

“Gosh,” he chuckles in return. “Your laugh really does sound like fireflies bouncing against thin glass.”

You blink twice, hand going right up to your mouth. Namjoon. Wait, Namjoon? So, it had been him all this time? Yes, it all made sense! Only someone as charming, educated and well-mannered as Namjoon fit in all the right pieces of the mystery man you pictured. No wonder the poems had a very loving touch, it was written by someone like him. But how he had he known so much about you? Was it Jungkook who told him all those teeny, insignificant details that you were made of?

At that moment, you didn't care. All you knew was that Kim Namjoon noticed you. He had noticed you.

You smile at him.

You looked over your shoulder, Jungkook’s face turning to a shade of grey. His seemed frozen in position. You wondered why. You just wanted to jump up and shake him and scream into his face: Jungkook! Namjoon is the one! He’s been the one writing to me!

“I've been meaning to ask, would you like to go out to coffee with me today? It is Valentine’s Day,” he scratches the back of his neck. You take his hands in yours. You nod willingly. You were too excited that all you had was time to point at Namjoon to Jungkook when Namjoon had his back turned to remove his apron.

Jungkook got the message you tried to tell him. He only smiled, but you wondered why it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

~*~

The café shop that you and Namjoon decided on was already swarming with customers, couples mostly. You guys decided to sit outside, a table for two. You were so excited, you were ready to bombard Namjoon with a series of questions, hoping it would give you the insight it needed. You both ordered two lattes and brownies with ice-cream topping.

“I can’t believe you readily agreed to go out with me,” the man before you shrugs modestly. “I mean, I could pass on as your elder brother, right?”

“Um, no, I was so happy that you asked, I…I never imagined, really. I’m really happy you did,” you stuttered, reaching out your arms to touch his. He appreciated the compliment.

“That’s so sweet, Y/N,” Namjoon smiled again, resting the palm of his hand on his cheek, giving you a longing gaze.

“Sweet, just like the poems you wrote for me,” you giggled, waiting to hear just what he would say. You almost choked on the next words.

“The what?” He blinked. Immediately, you knew you looked stupid. You tried to find your words.

“I said, just the like the poems you wrote for me.”

“I never wrote poems for you, heck, I can't even write poetry, Y/N.” Namjoon sipped on his latte that arrived. Your knees turned rubbery. He was joking right? You continued to insist, but Namjoon just shook his head firmly.

“I'm serious, I never wrote anything for anyone. Ask all my exes.” He was looking at your curiously now. You did too. Your hands were getting sweaty with nervousness.

“Then why did you say that my laugh sounded like fireflies tinkling against glass?” Exactly your question.

“Cause, I heard Jungkook saying it was.”

Your heart again did a little flip at his name. He was talking about you to Namjoon. But Jungkook was narrating the same line from the last poem you received, how is that possible, granted if he didn’t know the content? Or if, someone had given him the poem in the first place and he just happened to see it? A streak of anger went up your body when you thought of Jungkook intruding on your privacy.

“If...if, you didn't write these poems, then who did?” You searched your bag, taking out the poems that you kept in your wallet. You laid them out, one by one, on the table. There were many of them, but Namjoon scrutinised each piece closely. His eyes darted from one end to another, eyebrows furrowed in confusion suggesting he was in deep thought. Namjoon squinted at the scribbly, childish scrawls on the scraps and suddenly his brain clicked.

“This seems a lot like the poems Jungkook showed me, you know.”

You looked up shocked, your heart feeling like it was dropped from a height. Jungkook writes poems? You knew he read often; you didn’t know he wrote too. Did he have the time to? When did he start writing? All these questions made your head feel like it was stuffed with cotton.

Namjoon noticed your silence. “I know,” he laughs. “Seems weird right? He doesn’t seem like it, but that boy does have some talent in the writing department. He says it calms him somehow.”

“Do you keep roses in the store room, Namjoon?” You said, not looking at him. Your voice almost sounded robotic.

“I do, to brighten up the space there. Although I realised on the days you would come, there would always be one rose less the last time I counted them.”

Do you think...?

Suddenly, your brain had connected the dots. You shouldn't have judged Namjoon so quickly. All the times you remembered, Jungkook mentioned going to the storeroom to stamp the books you purchased. There was actually a stamp right there in the counter, but he never failed to go inside the storeroom instead. Maybe he slipped in the poems and the roses then?

And the handwriting. You remember going through Jungkook's essays in high school when you tried to help him out, even a bit. You remembered how bad his handwriting was.

But Jungkook, writing poems for you? You admit you did feel a soft spot for Jungkook albeit your sour history with him in high school, but soon you realised he's so much more than his shy demeanour. Yes, your assumption on Namjoon being your mystery writer overlooked all the clues, and you wished you thought more thoroughly. Now, because of your impulsive decision-making skills, you landed up in this awkward situation with Namjoon.

Jungkook was the one writing poems for you. Only he could notice those habits you had possessed in school, he was your classmate for fuck’s sake! All those years that you hated him for being mean to you, he was crushing on you instead? How, why?

But then you understood. You liked Jungkook. Ever since the first poem. He became such a beautiful writer, with all the delicate details he noticed about you. So, there was meaning behind him calling you special. There was meaning when he looked at you for a few seconds longer. There was meaning in his smile, in his actions, in his concern. There was meaning in every little thing he did because he liked you, and still likes you. And you liked him too.

Why had he resisted the ache in his heart to come forward and tell you the truth about who the person behind the poems was?

You put back the poems and muttered several apologies to Namjoon before you fled the scene, your mind rehearsing exactly what to tell Jungkook the first thing you meet him.

~*~

You barged inside the familiar bookstore, the cold air from the air-conditioner hitting you smack in the face. There were no customers, it was Valentine’s Day you remind yourself. Jungkook was busy cleaning up the bar, a solemn look colouring his usually bright face.

He looked a bit startled when he saw you open the door, as if he didn't expect you to enter at this hour.

“Y/N! How was your date?” He faked enthusiasm. You marched up to him and slammed the poems down on the counter.

“You could have told me, you know. The worst I could do was to storm off,” You crossed your arms, this time not as a defence mechanism.

“What are you talking about?” He wasn’t looking at you, he was looking at the poems now. How long was he going to keep up this act?

“Disappearing to stamp my book? The horrible handwriting? The intricate details about how I was in school? Sounds like only someone who knew me, or observed me very well, would know.” You said, tone a bit lighter. “I'm not dumb, Kook.”

There was a slight pause on Jungkook’s end before he speaks. “Took you this long to find out, though.”

You grinned. “You’re a coward.” You leaned forward, slightly kissing him on the lips. He responds, smiling, taking his hand to cup you on the cheek. It’s awkward at first, but his lips were just the right amount of soft and yours. Suddenly, Namjoon, your temporary crush on Changmin, disappear. The moment is magical as you lock both arms around Jungkook’s neck as he kisses you excitedly. Sparks fly between both your bodies.

You break away from the kiss. “You say big words in your poems, yet you can't muster up the courage to confess to the girl you like?”

“I thought…you and Namjoon hyung...” Jungkook’s cheeks are flushed crimson, as he eyes the floor in attempt to hide his evident embarrassment.

“Which wouldn't have happened if you confessed to me earlier.” You rolled your eyes, baffled that he didn’t speak up when he should have. “Do you know how awkward it was, realising you were the one behind the poems and not Namjoon?”

“Oh my god, did you leave him there all alone?” He tried to suppress a small laugh. “So, do you like me now?”

“We just kissed, Jungkook.” You punched him. “But yes, I have liked you ever since I read your poem the first time. And your writing is just…wow.”

“I try,” He did that thing again where he rubbed the back of his neck when he got shy. “Only for the girl I always had a crush on.”

“And you succeeded.” Throwing your hands over his neck again, nuzzling your nose against his, you felt the comfort, the same one whenever you were around Jungkook, slowly making it way from your legs to your arms.

“Valentine's Day is not over yet, shall we go out?” You nodded at Jungkook’s suggestion as you both made your way out the store, no customers projected to come anyway.

Hand in hand, you realised that fairy tales with happy endings did exist. Except for princes, dragons and villains – your story had roses, poetry and Jeon Jungkook, your enigmatic writer in hidden notebook scraps, whom you loved with all your heart.

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writefasttalkevenfaster · 3 years

Text

Take My Hand (Part 8.1 - Sonny’s Ending)

Summary: he put your heart back together -- and it was time for you to do the same for him -- and to have your future together.

Pairings: Sonny Carisi x Reader, Rafael Barba x Reader

Word Count: 3,582

Song: There'll be happiness after you / But there was happiness because of you / Both of these things can be true / There is happiness (happiness by taylor swift)

Warnings: T, a happy ending, a little angst, but sonny is the sweetest, v*rus doesn’t exist b/c i don’t want to live in reality.

A/N: i can’t believe we’re here -- we’ve reached the ending (or a ending). thank you for reading, reblogging, for your comments -- i’ve read and reread every comment multiple times. thank you to @bucky-of-the-opera and @laneygthememequeen for being the best beta readers. i have so many other people i want to thank -- but i’m gonna make a separate post. thank you for reading. please let me know what you think.

His back is turned, heading towards the elevators.

It was Sonny — slipping past the crowd in the hallways outside the courtrooms — it was always Sonny.

“Sonny, please,” and your hand brushing his shoulder, “Please—”

And he reluctantly stops, turning on his heel, lips a thin line as he faces you and his arms crossed, “What?” his question is terse, the tension as thick as in the courtroom — and this had nothing to do with the verdict.

Your mouth opens, but no words leave them—you can’t stop looking at him.

His brow is furrowed and his jaw set — but you know he’s angry, betrayed, frustrated — and you were the one who had caused it.

But what else would he feel? When you had played with him, his feelings, his heart, and now, is it even fair to ask for it — your chest squeezes — when you didn't deserve it?

“What is it?” he asks, his tone flat, and you’re wavering a moment, blinking back tears, and he’s sighing, his shoulders buckling under the weight of it all — the weight you had placed on him, “if you’re telling me that it’s over—” his voice breaks, and your heart breaks along with it, “I get it.”

No, No—

And you’re shaking your head, reaching for him, but hesitating as your palms fold in on themselves, drawing them back to your sides.

“No, no, Sonny,” and he’s blinking, “I love you,” he’s wordless, mouth slightly agape as he stares at you, “I’m sorry—I’m not doing this right. I—”

He’s pulling you aside, away from prying eyes, his gaze softening a fraction, “Tell me,”

And you’re staring up at him — how do you tell him that you love him? How do you put it into words? How are words even enough to encompass everything you feel? There aren’t words, there isn't a sentence you would say that would ever do—

But you can try.

"I'm sorry," you whisper, "I've pushed you — shoved you away as if you've meant nothing to me, when you mean everything to me," and tears are stinging at your eyes, "I can't apologize to you enough — I treated you like shit — every time you wanted to move forward I brushed you off because I was afraid, we wouldn't make it. That I would—" and you bite your lip — doesn’t that sound familiar?

"No apology I give can make up for what I did — nothing can make up for what I did, but I can promise I'll never do it again because—" and he's meeting your gaze as you step a little closer, dare to climb the cliffside you had plunged yourself down — because you would, for him, you would do anything.

“I want to wake up beside you every morning, I want you to be the first person I see in the morning and the last person I see at night, you’re the first person I want to tell good news when I get it—” and your voice is breaking, “living these last few days without you — it wasn't living because I couldn’t breathe,” tears sting at the corners of your eyes, “and I don’t deserve you after what I put you through — and I’ll do whatever I can to make it up to you — but, I—” and you’re gazing up at him, your fingers tentatively brushing against the length of his cheek, “do you still have that ring?”

He’s blinking, his eyes glassy, but he's shaking his head, "What about—"

"It was never Rafael — it was always me," your voice breaks, "I was scared — I was pushing you away, and I was using him to do it. You were right. I didn't want to admit to myself how much I wanted this — how much it scared me to want someone so desperately," and you swallow the lump in your throat, "to love someone so fully — I never thought I could. I never thought someone could but— you did. You always did."

And he always did — he was there to put your heart back together, he was there to help you grow, he was there to make you smile — he was always there by your side.

"I want to marry you, Dominick Carisi Jr.," You smile softly, as your hands drop to his, "I want to be your spouse, I want to be your partner, I want to do everything you've done for me and more — because you deserve everything. You deserve better than me, and I'll spend my entire life trying to give it to you," but he doesn’t take your hands, and you waver, "it's okay if you're not ready or if you need time—"

But his fingers slowly intertwine with yours, fitting together perfectly — as always, and he's cupping your cheek, his eyes shining, "I just want you, sweetheart. Always have."

And your lips split into a grin, heart thrumming in your ears as you pull him into a kiss, his lips move against yours — finally and wholly — as his arms wrap around your waist, his palms sliding against your lower back. And he tastes like home — the one housed between his arms, in his loving gaze, and his soft touches — the one you know you could never live without, and the one you wouldn’t have to — because he was it.

And as you part, he smiles, his fingers cupping your cheeks, but he’s glancing down, “I still need time before—”

You nod, waving off his explanations — ones you didn’t deserve, “I’ll be here. I’m not going anywhere,” your thumb running across the length of his cheek, “never again.”

And he’s smiling, lips curled in a wide smile — the pain of the last few weeks slipping from his face, as he tugs you closer, “Can I kiss you?”

And you laugh, “Why are you even asking—”

But he cuts you off with his lips, swallowing your laugh, and stealing your breath — just as he did your heart.

How did you get so lucky?

~~~

“Didn’t think you could leave without saying goodbye, did you?” your arms crossed across your chest, the cool brick of Lucia’s apartment building still finding its way through the plush lining of your coat, a small smile on your lips, only half forced — just as it was only half-awkward.

Half-awkward because neither of you had spoken a word to each other since the trial — your firm was wrapping up sentencing negotiations on your end, and your texts over the last few days to Rafael had been sporadic at best. But you couldn’t let it end like that — you couldn’t just disappear, not again.

You had learned that lesson — twice over.

But to your surprise, his lips curl wryly, “And I thought your fiancee was the one who was the former detective,”

And your brow wrinkles, “How—”

His eyes flicker to your hands and back, the ring resting delicately on your finger, and your mouth nearly agape, you fidget, fingers toying with the metal band — you had gotten far too used to it already, as if it had always been there.

You bite your lip — and maybe it always was.

“I suppose congratulations are in order,” and you know he means it — no sarcastic bite to his tone, but only resignation — the very same that made your heart ache.

“Rafael—”

“You don’t have to explain,” he shifts from foot to foot, his head tilted, a sad smile on his lips, “I think we’re past explanations at this point.”

And any words you have die on your tongue, as you swallow the sentiments in your heart — about how much you loved him, about maybe in another life you would have been together, and about how much you hope that he would find someone else — no, those weren’t as helpful as you wished they were.

“It’s not an engagement ring,” you say softly, “it’s a promise ring—”

“You and Carisi decide to go back to the 1950s?” he teases lightly, as you scoff, shaking your head, “not quite ready to get married yet?”

“After everything,” you say softly, “I think both of us needed some—”

“Time,” he finishes, licking his lips, “I’m familiar,”

And you swallow the lump in your throat, “I’m sorry if this is—”

“No, I’m the one who should be sorry,” and now you’re blinking as he purses his lips, “It wasn’t fair to spring this on you — to tell you how I felt, but I did it anyway—” he shakes his head, “I needed to tell you — I just hope you know that,” and he bites his lip, “that Carisi—”

“He does — we do,” you sigh, stepping forward, “you know Sonny isn’t the type to hold a grudge — and anyway, this,” your fingers graze over the band again, “it was between me and him, not you.”

And he’s nodding, his nose now red from the cold, as a small sigh escapes his lips, “I just want you to be happy.”

“I am happy,” you smile, “I really am,” and you reach for him, squeezing his hand, “and I wish you nothing but the best, Rafael Barba — because you deserve it.”

And he’s smiling, as he squeezes back, before stepping back, glancing at his watch, “You should get back home, shouldn’t you?”

And you raise an eyebrow, “Since when did you become my keeper?” you echo his words from all those years ago — the very same he had said to you — and he rolls his eyes.

“I’m not,” but he tilts his head, “but you have someone else to do that, don’t you?” And it’s almost on cue, your phone is vibrating in your pocket, messages from Sonny to check in — asking what you wanted for dinner. Rafael steps forward, before leaning slowly — giving you enough time to lean away but you don’t — as his lips brush against your forehead, a goodbye without words, smiling as he did so.

“Will I see you around?” you ask as he’s turning to go instead the building, just as snowflakes begin to fall, the icy melting as it drifted to the concrete, and he looks over his shoulder with a smile.

“You will,” and he steps inside, the door swinging shut behind him, as you grab your phone, calling Sonny.

“Hey, I’m on my way home soon,” as you step away from the building, “do you need me to pick up anything for dinner?”

~~~

There’s a knock at Sonny’s door, just as he finishes looking over an answer from the defendant’s attorney, “Busy?”

“Never for you,” he smiles, as you shut the door behind you, rounding his desk, perching yourself on the edge of his desk in front of him, as your fingers intertwine, “I’m almost done, sweetheart,”

“Really?” you raise your eyebrows, a wry smile on your lips, checking your phone, “I believe you said that almost an hour and half ago,” your eyes drift back to him.

“Well, now I’m really almost done,”

“I am only just getting settled into your place, but if you keep pulling these late nights, I may get bored and redecorate.”

“Oh really?” he echoes your taunt, as you laugh, “I’d pay to see that.”

“I’m thinking purple walls,” and he snorts, “with yellow curtains—”

“I love it,” and now you’re pouting, “as long as you’re happy,” and you roll your eyes.

“This is supposed to make you come home earlier, and you’re smiling, until he’s tugging you off with a small yelp, right into his lap.

“Sonny—” and he’s nosing your neck, pressing soft kisses to your skin, sighing against you, as you shiver, “Sonny,” you repeat, voice much softer, “let’s go home.”

“Not yet,” he murmurs, against you as you gasp, his lips sucking softly against your pulse.

“You know,” and you’re nearly squirming, “we can do all this and more at home,” you as you pull away, cupping his cheek, “what’s gotten into you?” And you don’t notice when he pulls the ring from his pocket, until he holds up in front of you — your mouth is dry, as tears sting at your eyes, “Sonny—”

“You have, sweetheart,” he says, his voice nearly hoarse, “I wanted to wait until tonight, I wanted to propose to you at our apartment — surrounding by lights, over the first meal I ever cooked for you—”

“Italian poached eggs,” and he smiles, as he presses a kiss to your forehead, before he continues.

“But I couldn’t wait another second,” he whispers, fingers brushing against your cheek, “I can’t spend another second without asking you to marry me,”

“Sonny, I—”

“I see my future with you, sweetheart — nothing is certain, nothing at all,” he shakes his head, “but nothing else matters if you’re there beside me — my best friend,” he kisses you softly on the lips, “my love,” another kiss, “and hopefully my—”

“Yes, Sonny, yes,” you kiss him in earnest, gripping the front of his shirt, again and again, “I’ll marry you,” and his eyes are glassy as he kisses you again, engulfing you in his embrace, as your fingers splay over his shoulder and on his chest, his heart racing under your touch.

“I almost can’t believe it,” he murmurs, as your lips find your way to his again, “I can’t believe you said yes.”

“I’ll say it a million times, if you want,” you part your lips as he tilts his head, “Yes,” kiss, “yes,” kiss, “yes—” and he cuts you off with his lips, grinning against you, “I love you so much, Sonny Carisi,”

“I love you too,” he says, brushing away a tear slipping down your cheek, “I just I never thought I’d—”

“Shh,” you kiss him again, swallowing his words, and you ground yourself in him — his touch, his scent, his taste — him, “it’s real, we’re getting married.”

And he surges forward to kiss you again, when his phone begins to vibrate, “Shit,” he murmurs under his breath, grabbing his phone, “I forgot I—”

“Forgot what?” and you glance at his phone, spotting your dining table set up nicely with a white tablecloth, a vase of your favorite flowers, and lights strung up above it, and you cover your mouth, “Sonny—”

“I was having Liv, Fin, and Amanda help me set up—”

“They were helping you set this up?” you repeat with a ghost of a laugh in your voice, “please tell me you have pictures of Fin putting up string lights—”

He snorts, “I think I wouldn’t make it out alive with that picture,” and he purses his lips, “this is where I wanted to ask you — in our home over dinner, but just seeing you, I—” his fingers interlace with yours, “I couldn’t wait to ask to marry you.”

Your laugh is watery and you don’t care, as you press your forehead to his, “Well I can’t wait to marry you,” And he’s smiling — and you can’t believe you get to wake up to that smile every day for the rest of your life, and you’re slipping from the chair, your fingers still laced with his, “Let’s go home?”

And you do, your hand never leaving his the entire way there.

~~~

“You have to show me your recipe for this, El—” you catch a sharp look from your husband’s mother, “Mom,” you correct yourself, “I don’t know how you do it.”

Elena tastes the dish, a small smile gracing her lips, “I think it’s turned out even better somehow,” and she squeezes your shoulder, “must be your help,”

Sonny snorts, and both of your heads snap to him, “What?”

“Something to say, Dominick?” Elena crosses her arms, as her husband claps his hand to his son’s shoulder and shakes his head.

“No, ma’am,” and you roll your eyes, biting back your smile while you stir the sauce. His parents slip from the kitchen for a moment, taking drinks over to their daughters and their families, leaving the two of you alone.

You feel Sonny watch you, leaning against the counter, his gaze skimming over the length of you, lingering. Until he pushes himself from the counter, coming behind you to wrap his arms around you, his hand over yours, helping you stir.

“Sonny, contrary to your belief, I can handle stirring this—” a little sauce flecks against your thumb and the back of your palm, the heat low enough that it barely stings, but Sonny’s pulling your hand away, and your protest dies on your lips as he licks the sauce from your hand. The air thickens, and it’s not from the heat of stovetops, as he grins.

“Mm, Ma was right — it is better,” he presses a kiss to your temple, squeezing your hips, before stepping away just as his mom re-enters.

“Dominick, go help your sisters with their kids, some of the younger ones are—”

“I know the drill,” his hand brushes your waist as he leaves, throwing one last smile over his shoulder.

Your gaze falls back to the pot in front of you, lips curled, until you find Elena beside you again, “You two are happy, huh?”

And she’s turning the burner off, as you glance at her, biting your lip, “We really are — I can’t remember ever being this happy.”

“That’s what love does to us, isn’t it?” and she’s looking out the window at the backyard, watching Sonny play with his nieces and nephews, “it brings out the best in us,” and she turns again, “and I want to thank you for doing that for my son.”

You blink, “Elena, I—”

“I know you had your trouble getting here, but I know,” she looks to Sonny again, “I know my son is happiest with you — you’ve helped him come into his own,”

You nod, softly smiling as you find him again in the yard, now standing off to the side, watching his sisters’ kids run around, “We helped each other — he’s the best person I know, really,”

“He is,” and she squeezes your shoulder, “thank you for taking care of him,”

You nod again, blinking back tears, “Thank you for letting me.”

~~~

“Think you want that?” Sonny asks you, as you sit at the table, watching his sister pick up her son who was falling asleep at the table, his head lolling for the last fifteen minutes, until his father picked him up, his head resting on your shoulder.

“A kid?” you rest your chin on his shoulder, “Well, your mom never fails to remind us of our lack of one,” you smile, glancing back at the kids, before licking your lips, “I was never sure,” and his expression wavers, “but I think with you — I think we could do anything,” and he relaxes, spotting your smile,

“What?”

You shake your head, pressing a kiss to his shoulder, “You would just be a really good dad,”

He raises his eyebrows, “Really?”

And you snort, jerking your heads toward the kids, “Have you seen yourself with your nephews and nieces?”

He sighs, “Well that’s the easy stuff — playing with them,” he watches as his sister picks up her son’s things, and grabs him juice for the car ride him, “taking care of them, protecting them, letting them make their way in the world,” he sighs, “that’s the hard part.”

You shrug, bumping him with his shoulder, and he wraps his arm around you, “I like our odds,”

“Never question the odds,” and you raise an eyebrow at him.

“Dork,” you scoff, and he shrugs, smirking as he raises an eyebrow.

“Well, you married a dork so—” you press a kiss to his cheek.

“Touche,” you slip from his grip, as he holds onto you with the tips of his fingers, “I left my coat inside — I’ll be right back,” you brush him away, before slipping inside.

The house was empty, everyone outside and getting ready to go — the shoes that had lined the entryway had dwindled, as you stepped through the foyer and living room, before finding your way to the kitchen.

And then you see it.

You pause before the wall of photos — the very same wall you had found yourself in front of the very first time you had come to the Carisi home. And now it was the first time since the wedding that you had come back. You toyed with the ring on your finger, the first time that this was your home too — because he was now.

Officially, at least.

And your eyes found his parents wedding photo again — his father in the tan suit he regretted, but looking as happy as he did each day.

And he was right about one thing — it really was the happiest day of your life — your eyes slid over to your wedding picture right beside it — a picture of you and Sonny staring at one another, your fingers brushing against his cheek—

“Sweetheart?” you heard Sonny call after you, “Bella is leaving? Are you coming?”

“I’m coming,” you reply, grabbing your coat from the kitchen chair, before slipping back outside to say goodbye to the rest of his family.

And so was every day that followed.

#sonny carisi x reader #sonny carisi #sonny carisi fanfiction #sonny carisi imagines #svu #law and order: svu #Law & Order SVU #svu imagines #svu fanfiction #carisi imagines

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storydays · 3 years

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Legend of Korra X Male Reader

Hey guys! I’m loving all the likes you’re giving. I want to hear more of your questions and comments. Also I would really appreciate it if you would tag me and give me credit when you reblog my work. Thanks

(All credit for Legend of Korra goes to Nickelodeon and it’s creators ❤️)

Season 1, ep 5, p2

Kazan and Meelo yawned sleepily, full from dinner. "That was really good, (Y/N)." Pema complimented, rubbing her belly happily. "Glad you liked it Auntie." You then turned to your Aunt Rene who was sulking in the corner with a smug grin. "So, Auntie, thoughts?" you teased, making her start. "Listen little boy! Don't you dare give me attitude just because you're a better cook than me!" Everyone laughed at the banter between you two. "It's late, and the children are sleepy, why don't you guys sleep here for the night? Nagisa can sleep with Jinora and Ikki, and Kazan can bunk with Meelo." Pema suggested.

"Yay! Sleepover!" cheered Ikki and Nagisa much to Jinora's annoyance. "Here, I'll help but the boys to sleep, Uncle."He smiled appreciatively at you, grabbing Meelo while you carried Kazan. "You did good tonight, nephew." Tenzin said, leading the way to the boys' room. "You heard from the radio?" you tilted your head, adjusting your grip on the young firebender. "No, I saw from the corner. You really are your parent's son."

You stared at his back in shock before smiling. "Heh, thanks Uncle."

*That night*

You inhaled the fresh air as you and Nevermore walked to the arena to get ready. But stop seeing Mako and Korra each facing different ways, and leaned against a pole, out of their sight line. "What kind of game are you playing?" asked the Firebender. "Um, pro-bending? We have a quarter final match." Korra stated like it was the most obvious thing. "No, I mean with Bolin. You got him all in a tizzy, and I know you're only using him to get back at me." Mako accused. 'Ooh bad move, Mako.'

"I am not. We're just having fun. What do you care, anyway?" Korra defended. "I'm looking out for my little brother. I don't want to see his heart get broken." 'That is such bull.' you laughed silently. Korra knew it was too, "Wait a second. You're not worried about him; you're jealous," Korra was smirking and you were too. "You do have feelings for me." Mako didn't miss a beat. "What? Jealous? Don't be ridiculous."

"Admit it, you like me." Korra didn't realize she was playing with fire, quite literally. "No, I'm with Asami." "Yeah, but when you're with her, you're thinking about me, aren't you?" The Avatar sounded so smug right now, and you were silently rooting for her. "Get over yourself." Mako snapped. "I'm just being honest!" "You're crazy!" Mako denied. "You're a liar!" cried Korra.

That was when you decided to step in. You splashed the two with water you kept in your pocket, and sent your teammates a raised eye brow. "If you two hot heads are done, we do have a match to go to." You then walked away, your pony tail swinging behind you. You stopped the two from entering the room and to keep Bolin from getting him involved.

"Listen you two, don't bring this energy around Bolin. And while you are out on that ring, keep your personal feelings out of it. We've come too far for you two to mess it up. Am I clear?" The younger teens looked at each other and sighed, when Nevermore snapped her jaws for good measure. "Yes, sir." "Good, I'll be here when the match is over." You walked in and over to the railing, waiting for the match to start.

*15 minutes later*

"Eight teams have been eliminated, and eight advance into the quarter finals, which get underway tonight. The rookies are about to take on the former and longest running champs--the Boar-Q-Pines. Youth clashes with experience in a battle for the ages or rather of the ages. Korra dodges and--ooh slams right into her teammate! Down goes Mako, and Bolin and Korra." You face palm and growled as the second announcer said, "Round One goes to the Boar-Q-Pines."

Your (e/c) eyes narrow, noting Mako was saying something to Korra in a very aggressive way. Poor Bolin looked so confused. The waterbender part of you wanted to switch out with Korra, but the airbender part of you, reminded your that this was how Korra and Mako were going to make up. Nevermore nuzzled your cheek making you chuckle and rub her head. "Thanks, girl."

"The Ferrets looking to mount some offense here in round 2. Bolin lets fly a flurry of attacks. He's a one man bending battalion." "Yes! Way to go, Bolin!" You cheered for the Earthbender. "The Ferrets having a tough time finding their rhythm tonight. But thanks to Bolin, they narrowly notch round two."

Round 3 started and at this point the crowd noticed their was something wrong as well. "Not sure, what's eatin' them, but this is not the same team that took out the Rabbaroos." You winced in sympathy as the Avatar took Earth disk to the stomach. "Round 3 is a tie. We go to a tie breaker to decide the match." A referee tossed a blue and red coin into the air, and caught it, covering it up.

He moved his hand to reveal the red side. "The Fire Ferrets win the coin toss. Which element do you choose?" Immediately the three tried to decide who would go to fight, until Bolin stepped up with the older Earthbender. "Looks like the Earthbenders will collide in the tie breaker face off. Bolin goes in for the grapple, Chang reverses." You grit your teeth as Bolin was flung into the air but cheered when he fired from mid air.

"Bolin strikes from mid air, knocking Chang to the edge of the circle, and another strike from Bolin, knocking Chang into the drink!" "The Future Industries Fire Ferrets win their quarter final match!" You, Mako, and Korra sighed in relief as the announce continued talking. "Ooh, close one folks, youth trumps experience tonight."

You met the trio at the edge and grinned at Bolin. "Good job, Bo! You were awesome out there!" You watched as Korra and Mako went their separate ways. You sighed, and walked over to Mako and whispered in his ear, "You better get your act right, Mako. You maybe my best friend, but I won't hesitate to kick your ass." He looked at you with wide eyes, knowing you were dead serious. "Hey, (Y/N), come with me! I need your help!" Bolin dragged you out the room, making you laugh.

*Time skip*

You and Bolin walked up to where Korra could be hiding and you stopped seeing Korra and Mako kissing. 'Are they kidding me?!' "Wait, Bo, don't--"

You were too late, as he stopped seeing the scene in front of you. You hid half your face in your hand, Nevermore trying to hide her head in your hair. It was silent until Bolin started crying and ran away. "Wait, Bolin, this isn't what you think!" He turned to Korra with a glare on his face. "Great! Look what you did." "You're blaming me?" demanded Korra.

"You kissed me!" "You kissed me back!" Both gasped being splashed with freezing cold water, and turned to you. Nevermore's teeth were drawn back into a snarl, and you had a dangerous look on your face. "It doesn't matter. You are both at fault! Now what matters is how the hell you are going to fix it." You and Nevermore growled as Mako groaned and ran after his brother. You turned to the city view and didn't even look at the Water Tribe girl.

"Korra, I know you've been isolated all your life, and you probably thought you would get your happily ever after with Mako. But there's so many fish in the sea for you to explore with. Don't settle for the small fry." "Well played, Korra." she said, hugging herself. "Live and learn, Korra." you sighed, "Live and learn."

*The next morning.*

You followed Mako into the restaurant. "Morning, Narook. Is my brother here?" The man behind the counter gestured behind you guys, and Mako waved in thanks. "Thanks." He walked over to Bolin and shook his shoulder. "Come on, wake up. I'm taking you home, bro." That cause Bolin to sniff and look up sadly.

"Don't call me that. You're not my brother!" He drunkenly slapped Mako's hands away from him. "You're a brother-betrayer." He sobbed into his arms. "The only ones I can trust: are Pabu and (Y/N)! They love me!" "You're a mess, and we've got the biggest of our lives tonight. Let's go." Mako tried grabbing Bolin who screamed at him. "No! I'm not going anywhere with you traitor!" You sighed, pushing Mako and grinning at Bolin.

"Come on, Bo. I need my favorite Earthbender to fight with me tonight!" He finally got up with his arm slung over your shoulder. "Only you Bolin, can drunk off Water Tribe Noodles." You laugh gently. "I told you dating a teammate was a bad idea." Mako sighed. "You're a bad idea!" You laugh at their antics, even if you were pissed at Mako.

*That night*

You finished braiding your hair so it hung down your back, and out of your face, as Korra walked into the room. She looked at Bolin slouching on a bench,and noticed you over at the mirror. You were lost in thought, but it was clear something was bothering you. You suddenly snapped out of it and stood up, putting your helmet on. "Let's go guys. And leave your personal feelings here."

"You can't find a team more evenly matched. In age, size, and strength than the Fire Ferrets and the Buzzard Wasps. Believe me, I looked." he joked. "This should be a pulse-pounding semi-final, folks." The bell rang and the Buzzards fought first. "The Buzzard-Wasps open with a flawlessly executed combo. 2 of the Ferrets take an early visit to Zone 2, and Mako's knocked all the way back into Zone 3! The Ferrets have been struggling to stay alive since the opening bell. It seems Bolin and Mako are out of sync tonight. (Y/N) taking the brunt of the impact from the front lines."

The crowd groaned with Bolin as he was hit in the gut, hard. "Ooh, that has got to sting." You heard retching and groaned, knowing it was Bolin. "And Bolin looses his noodles, literally." All the players seem to have froze with that disgusting scene. "Which reminds me, this match is brought to you by our sponsor, Flamey-O-Instant Noodles. 'Noodlest- Noodles in the United Republic.' " Soon Bolin was knocked back into Zone 3 with Mako, leaving you to get defend from Zone 1.

You were suddenly knocked into Zone 3 by an Earth disk, while avoiding a flame burst. "The Buzzard Wasps fly deeper into Ferret Territory. And Mako plunges into the pool. Can the Fire Ferrets hold on?" You and Bolin looked at each other and continued to fight with all you got. "The Ferrets are backed to the edge now, and are saved by the bell! They had better pull themselves together, folks, for round two. Otherwise they can kiss their finals goodbye. "

"Round 2!" You used water in a arch to knock two of the Buzzards back into Zone 2. "Oh, what a strong start from (Y/N)!" Mako groaned being knocked into Zone 2, and sent fire towards them, hitting Bolin in the process. He cried out, and turned onto his back to glare at Mako. "Hey, watch it!" He gasped being knocked into the water, from his distraction. "The Wasps take advantage of Mako's unforced error, and move forward."

You and Mako spun your elements together and knocked the opposing Water and Earth benders out and into the drink giving the round to you guys. Round 3 came and you looked between the boys. "Look, we've been working for a long time for this. Get your heads in the game guys. Please." You begged slightly; they knew what this tournament meant to you. "Let's get this over with." Mako sighed.

When the match started, Mako was already in the drink, and Bolin's shoulder was messed up,and then he was in the drink. "The Ferret's dream of making it to the finals rests on Councilman (Y/N)'s shoulders." You smirked to yourself, used your waterbending to get the team into a line of three, and knocked them down like dominoes. "It's the big kaboosh! What a knockout!"

The crowd went wild and you could hear Mako and Bolin cheering for you. "It didn't seem possible folks, but the Fire Ferrets are headed to the finals." You laughed, waving to the crowd, before walking away. You took your helmet off and groaned when Korra gave you a big hug. "Korra! Korra! I need my....lungs...to breathe." "Oh! Sorry!" she sheepishly let you go. "Sometimes, I forget about my own strength." You sent her a lopsided smile, "It's okay, Korra." Bolin and Mako walked up to you.

"That was pretty much the coolest thing I've ever seen." "Thanks for not giving up on us; we never would've made this far without your level head. We owe you big time." You rolled your eyes, walking past them, taking your helmet off. The three looked at each other, uncertain. "(Y/N)--" "Look, I know things are confusing between the three of you, but this team means everything to me, and the last thing I need is for some petty love triangle is to mess it up."

Your sudden attitude caught the other's off guard; you were usually so carefree and cool. You got ready to leave the room when your ex walked in, making a scene. "Ooh, ooh, you boys smell something in here?" Tahno pinched his nose before smirking. "Oh, wait I know what that is. Yeah, it's the scent of losers." "I hope we see you in the finals. Then we'll see who the real losers really are." Korra said back.

"Yeah, I'm peeing my pants over here." Tahno said confidently before turning to you, with a very faint blush on his cheeks. "I'll win this match for you, (Y/N). Maybe we can go out to that Water Tribe restaurant you like so much." You turned to him with a bored look and said, "Gag me. We are not together anymore, Tahno, I just can't trust you." You brushed your bangs into your face and left without another word.

You ran into Asami in the hallway. "Oh, hey Asami." she hugged you and took a step back, noting your mood. "Great job! What a comeback! I--Hey...what's the matter?" she asked, green eyes shining earnestly. "Nothing, why don't you go see you boyfriend." You began to walk away when she grabbed your arm.

"Hey, you don't need to be strong around me, (Y/N), you've been there for me when I needed it. You can talk to me--" "No! I can't talk to anyone and especially not you because on of my main problems is I'm in love with you, and I just think you're wrong for Mako because he and Korra kissed and they belong together and I--" Asami cut you off by hugging you tightly, your arms tight around her waist. "(Y/N), I-I didn't know you felt that way." You took her hand in yours and kissed the top of it, locking eyes with her.

"Asami..." you left it at that and walked away, leaving her to her thoughts.

You ran to where you hid Neo, and hugged him with all your might, begging your tears not to fall, and while the polar bear dog didn't know what caused your pain, he simply nudged you with as much warmth as possible. You took such good care of him, it hurt him to see you so upset.

You sniffed, and looked into Neo's blue eyes with a watery smile.

"Let's go home, boy."

#lok imagine #legend of korra #x male reader #male reader x legend of korra #legend of korra imagine

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aghostlybao · 3 years

Note

🏳️‍🌈 boggie

anon, thank you so much for responding to my post!! i give you bobby's first ever pride, boggie style!

multicolored steps to bravery

warnings: none. however, if you do find anything you think are triggering then pls send me a msg and tag the reblogs accordingly. thank you!

navigating through one’s gender/sexuality is confusing and overwhelming, especially when you’re at an age where society expects you to have an established sense of self. it is absolutely okay to remain uncertain of what label, if any, suits you best. and it is also okay to change the label you’ve chosen to identify yourself as somewhere down the line or to forgo labels altogether.

or bobby watches his friends grow && celebrate their gender/sexuality with pride while he ends up even more confused && thinks that he's running out of time to figure out where he belongs.

writing below the cut. excuse my grammar, english is difficult af but i hope you enjoy it

multicolored steps to bravery

There were times Bobby felt like an outsider, an audience witnessing the growth of his friends rather than growing with them. While Alex found out about his sexuality at 12, Luke following right after, and Reggie two years later, but Bobby at 18, still didn’t know where he belonged in the gender and sexuality spectrum. And every year, as his friends went through heartbreaks, his own experience never went past an awkward peck on the lips during a spin-the-bottle game when he was 13. While they grew confident and proud, showcasing their gender and sexuality, and becoming supportive figures to the younger students at their high school since sophomore year; Bobby reeled back and firmly smiled as others labeled him as the token straight friend of the group.

But at 23, Bobby finally found the courage to join his friends at the annual pride festivities, while still being 100% unsure of his identity. Bobby lounged on the living room sofa, feet nonchalantly propped up on the coffee table, and munched on sliced green apples dipped in sriracha sauce as they put the finishing touches to their outfits.

Reggie stole the fruit out of his hand, “you okay?”

“Yeah, Reg.” He happily fed the bassist another slice, “just sleepy.” Bobby was grateful that Reggie remained quiet about the obvious lie that came out of his mouth.

Reggie did a 360-degree turn on the spot and wiggled his fingers when he came to a stop. “What do you think? Willie painted the back panel,” he turned away and showcased the very artwork he was talking about, a bass guitar in the colors of the bisexual flag. “Julie added the studs!”

His own outfit, dull and monotone, wasn’t even worth comparing against their elaborate looks.

Bobby tried, really tried not to entertain him not belonging, or that it affected him every time a stranger screamed in delight, gave them high fives, and with some going as far as giving hugs because of the colors that adorned their bodies. But it was difficult not to when they were bouncing with so much excitement that it made his head spin. Reggie’s presence didn’t even register until his hand received a comforting squeeze. “You okay, Bee?”

When had he stopped walking? Bobby mechanically smiled, forcibly making the outer corner of his eyes crinkle. “yeah dude, just got lost in my thoughts. We should catch up with them.” Neither of them moved from the spot.

Right before them were rows of pride flags varying in sizes and colors to represent the entire LGBTQIA+ community. The growing crowd turned into a blur of multicolored identities, from Alex and his partner, Willie in their rainbow splattered dungarees with the demisexual flag painted on one of Willie’s pant leg to Luke’s arms covered in swirls of pink, yellow, and cyan. And Reg, Reggie’s leather jacket customized with magenta, lavender, and royal blue studs, and the hand-painted bass guitar in the same colors was a stark contrast to his full black outfit.

“Reg?” Bobby still didn’t have the answer to the question he’s been asking himself since Alex came out to them at 12, “I don’t think I’m straight... or gay, or bi, or pan…” He continued when Reggie took hold of both his hands, a silent encouragement to keep going. “Actually, I have no clue what to identify as, not the way all of you do. I-I thought I was asexual but then I found out about its sub-identities, then people started referring to me as the token straight.”

Bobby rolled his shoulders back, lifting his head to return Reggie’s gaze. “I was hoping I’d have it all figured out by now but I’m thinking that it may never happen.” He briefly searched for any sign that he should stop talking but Reggie met uncertainty with a soft smile. “I like you.” He dropped to a squat, groaning in frustration. Talk about finesse. He swore under his breath, “I had this entire confession planned out, and I fu-And you’re laughing at me!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I’ve never heard you speak for long or look so scared. Remember that rottweiler living across the school and Luke dared me to go pet it?”

“Yeah, you cried and fainted.”

“Exactly!”

“I don’t get it…”

“That’s how I feel towards you!”

“You’re... scared of me?”

Reggie crouched down in front of him, beaming, “yeah! Wait. No! I was in the beginning, you were super cool and I told the guys that it was unfair how you owned the ‘haven’t slept but still hot’ look while I looked like a turtle every morning!” Halfway through his ramblings, the two of them had changed their position and comfortably sat crossed-legged in the middle of the street. Bobby was far too entranced to care about the looks of annoyance being thrown at them.

“My point is,” he pursed his lips, “I like you too, Bobby.” To prevent Bobby from countering, Reggie pushed his cheeks together, making him look like an inverted version of a pufferfish.

“And before you ask, it’s good enough for me. We don’t even have to put a label on it!”

“I don’t know... being called your boyfriend sounds nice.”

“It does?”

“Yeah, Reg.”

“Okay, boyfriend.”

“Ew.” Bobby quickly stood up, cackling as Reggie chased him through the multicolored crowd.

#anon response #jatp one shot #jatp au #boggie #bobby jatp #bobby supremacy #reggie peters #jatp drabble #boggie brain rot #jatp #just writing stuff #short one shot #astrowritings

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nahimjustfeelingit-writes · 4 years

Text

Imagine:

The reader having an office fling with Erik/Work Hubby

Warnings: SMUT

It’s gonna be two parts because it’s really long and detailed to start. LIKE & REBLOG

You wake up on a Monday morning after enjoying your short weekend to start another 9-5 workweek. Even though a part of you wished that you could work from home another part of you wanted to go into the office so you could see Erik. Your work boyfriend. On Saturday you got your hair done in some knotless box braids, went to the spa, and did a little bit of shopping for some new office attire. Today you decided to wear some of that office attire. Nude wrap skirt, a mauve colored wrap top with bell sleeves and some So Kate pumps in a nude color. Your boyfriend and Erik shared the same name but instead, your boyfriend’s name was spelled with a “C”, not a “K”. That boyfriend in question was a personal trainer and vlogger who traveled to try different restaurants mainly in Cali and NYC. He took a two week trip to NYC with a group of his guy friends. You were used to it and grew not to care so much about it. He was living his life to the fullest.

But were you living your life?

Working as a Secretary for an Environmental Technology company that makes billions of dollars gave excellent pay. The money is good but the only thing to look forward to is your gossiping friend Regina who sat in a cubicle directly next to you and Erik, the Lead Environmental Engineer who was also a Biomedical Engineer. He’s charming, witty, mesmerizing, attractive, hardworking, can be very headstrong at times, loves ramen, and has a cat named Paws. Erik with the “K” has you blushing whenever he locked eyes with you, stuttering while you both have random conversations during tea and coffee breaks, texted you funny memes during meetings when you were supposed to be taking notes, instant messages you from his cubicle computer to bug you saying things like:

-Wyd big head?

-Did Eric with the “C” see you leave the house today in that short ass skirt?

-Connie keeps talking to me with her funky ass breath. Help me 🥺.

-So, when are you going to boss up and get an office? I wanna be next to my work bae.

-You wanna get lunch together? My treat. It’s a surprise.

-I know you and Regina are gossiping about me 😌.

-I missed you after work yesterday.

He’s also the reason why you stayed later on Wednesday and Thursday nights. You would help him brainstorm ideas about improving pollution and what he should say in his speech about global issues such as climate change. He even asked you if you wanted to come with him to Alaska to test the water there but you hadn’t given him an answer yet. You really really wanted to but being alone with Erik wasn’t such a good idea. You were afraid to be in another location besides LA with him for reasons you’d rather not admit to.

After making Erik and yourself an egg white and veggie omelet with a Belgian waffle you headed out the door and to your Prius. Arriving at the office on time, you badge in and take the lobby elevators up to the fifth floor. Stepping off of the crowded elevator, you walk towards the newly decorated staff lounge to put away the food. It was 8:25 am and Erik wouldn’t be in for another ten to fifteen minutes. The lounge had Dunkin Donuts laid out and freshly brewed coffee. You fought the temptation of grabbing a chocolate glazed donut to go to your cubicle and boot your Mac desktop computer so you could check your company email. You said Goodmorning as you walked by. Regina was playing Candy Crush on her cell when you arrived.

“Goodmorning, Gina.” You placed your Chanel bag behind the desktop computer in your cubicle.

“Morning, sis,” Regina tapped away on her phone, “Did you sleep okay?”

“Better this time around, yes,” You flipped your box braids over your shoulder while leaning back in your office chair to talk to Regina, “I haven’t heard from Eric all weekend.”

“Which one?”

You pursed your lips, “You know which one.”

She laughs, “Erik with the C. What’s up with that?”

You shrug, “Don’t know and don’t care. He acts like he can’t answer my calls or texts so I can check up on him so I’ll act like he doesn’t exist.”

Regina gave you a knowing look, “I’m sure you and Erik with the K, aka Captain Planet, texted his work bae, Miss Y/N, all weekend long.”

You bite your bottom lip to fight a goofy smile.

“See,” Regina crosses her dark chocolate legs, “he’s not just your work bae. He’s Daddy.”

“Stop!” You throw a pen at her chest, before lowering your voice, “Erik and I are not having sex, Gina. We may flirt and text outside of work-“

“And during work hours,” Regina interjected.

“Like I said, we are not having sex-“

“Who’s not having sex?”

Regina and your head turned to stare up at Erik Stevens. He had his briefcase in one hand and a black coffee with extra brown sugar in his other hand. Tailored suit colored navy blue with gold cuff links. Burberry dress shoes on his feet. Vintage gold-plated oval eyeglasses over his onyx eyes. He gave Regina and you a teasing smile. The smile where he raised one corner of his mouth to reveal a single deep dimple.

“Y/N,” Regina answered with wide playful eyes.

“Oh?” Erik gave Y/N a mournful look, “Damn, ma. That’s too bad.”

You glare at them both, “I will ignore both of y’all the rest of the day if you keep fucking with me.”

You got up from your seat, pushing in your chair, and tried your best to ignore the snickering from them both. Walking away, Erik was right on your tail, his hand reaching out to grab your shoulder to stop you.

“Calm down, it’s all jokes,” he licks his full lips, “But seriously...no sex between you and your man?”

Groaning, you walk into the lounge to grab the food.

“Why are we having this conversation?”

“Because I’m concerned,” Erik turned his back to lean against the counter with his arms folded over his chest, “You know you can talk to me, right?”

You place his food inside the microwave to heat, “I know. It’s just embarrassing, Erik.”

Erik grabs your chin to make you stare at him instead of the microwave, “Don’t even give me that excuse. Remember, we shared a lot of embarrassing stories in this office after hours.”

How could you forget?

“Yeah...it’s boring, Erik. I’m sure you’re having the best sex of your life in your fancy penthouse. Probably having orgies with models and actresses. They love a sweet and caring guy,” Y/N said sarcastically.

Erik’s tongue grazes the inside of his cheek to stop himself from smiling, “Why orgies specifically?”

“Is that all you focused on?!!” You shove him before taking his food out, “gosh, I hate you.”

Erik takes a swig of his coffee, “which is girl code for gosh, I love you,”

You shook your head with a grin, “leave me alone.”

“Which means, give me attention,” Erik grabs both of your shoulders, before bringing his head around to plant a kiss on your cheek, “I know y’all female dictionary like the back of my hand.”

Your head turned to face him after his lips caressed your cheek. Now, that area was warm and ticklish. Erik grabs his food and walks over to one of the tables. That gave you some time to breathe and heat your food as a distraction. Why did he have to kiss you? It’s not like he’s never done it before but every time he did it, Erik made you melt and wish it were your lips instead.

“You make some bomb food, girl. I think I’m jealous of Eric with a C.”

“Says the guy who makes the best shrimp and grits I have ever tasted besides my grandma,” you take a seat in front of him. While you ate you watched him cut into his waffle covered in syrup. His long lashes curled each time he blinked and his lips were so pouty and kissable whenever he concentrates the way he does. You felt like a schoolgirl watching him eat.

“So,” Erik chews his food some more before talking, “Alaska.”

“What about it?” You play it off by cutting your omelet up.

“Y/N,” Erik raised his brow at you, “You know about Alaska this is my fourth time bringing it up.”

“When is it?”

“In a month,” Erik takes a swig of his coffee to wash down his food before leaning forward on his elbows to make you look at him, “it’s gonna be for a week, all paid for, a mini-vacay with skiing, Matanuska Glacier walk, and lunch, helicopter tour, cozy cabin...”

Erik tilted his head at you and smiled. You looked down at your food bashfully. It all sounded so tempting. You would love to go...

“I don’t know, Erik,” you shake your head, “Eric will be home and-“

“How many trips does he take leaving you home?”

“More than I can count,” you reply shamefully.

“Exactly. I ain’t tryna overstep but...” Erik left it at that and went back to his food. You slouch in your chair deep in thought. Erik has a point. Your boyfriend traveled whenever he pleased and didn’t even ask how you felt about it once. You respected that he wanted to drop his career as a teacher to travel, eat, and vlog. Not once did he suggest taking you on one of his food journeys. You honestly felt left out.

You deserve some fun too.

Moving your food around with your fork, you finally come to a decision.

“I’ll go.” You spoke softly as if you couldn’t believe you’d just agreed to it.

“Seriously?” Erik asked with his eyes unblinking and on yours.

“Yes,” you let out a breath, “I’ll go to Alaska and have some fun for once. I haven’t been out of town in so long it’ll feel good to go.”

Alaska with Erik Stevens. For an entire week. Just you and him. Your knees shook under the table.

“See,” he smirked while stabbing a piece of omelet with his fork, “It’s crazy how I had to ask your ass four times total to come with me.”

“Why is that crazy?” You asked with a laugh.

“Because it never takes a woman this long to say yes to me,” he says in a very boastful manner.

“I’m not your woman though,” you say before you could even stop yourself.

“You are my woman,” Erik rested his tongue on his upper lip before grinning, “just at work and without the sex, kissing, taking showers together-“

“Okay, you made your point, boyfriend.” You stop him before he continued.

“Does Eric know about me?”

“A little,” you look towards the ceiling, “ he’d probably cancel all his travel plans if he knew how you looked.”

Erik bit into his bottom lip, “how do I look, Y/N?”

“Fine as hell,” you giggle as if you were drunk, “He already thinks he’s the finest thing walking.”

“That’s your man though,” Erik chuckles, “You think he’s fine, right?”

“I mean, yeah, of course.”

Both of you laugh.

“I swear,” you wave him away, “you play too much.”

“Don’t make me steal you away from him.” Erik laughed. His laugh made your stomach do summer salts.

“Okay, Erik,” you speak in a dismissive tone.

“I mean, I could though.”

“Why do you insist on playing?! If I was single-“

“You would be mine,” Erik finished.

“You can have any woman you want. Why me?”

Erik scanned your body at that table, “Really? What you mean? Have you seen yourself, ma?”

“Stop,” you giggle. He can’t be serious. Erik is a flirt but why on earth would he play like this?

“You always think a nigga playing when I say that shit.” He sounded offended. You didn’t have a reply for that. Avoiding his intense eyes you finished your food while Erik closed his empty container and placed it on the counter next to the thermal lunch bag you brought the food in.

“Aight let me get to my desk,” he grabs his coffee and walked up towards you. Erik moves your box braids from your shoulder before grabbing the back of your neck gently. The feel of his smooth fingertips on your skin made the hairs on the back of your neck and arms rise.

“I’ll see you later, babe.”

You blush with a mouth full of food, “Okay, I’ll see you later too, baby.”

His fingers left your neck and combed through your box braids before he walked away and out of the lounge. You were so preoccupied with his fingers on the back of your neck and in your hair that you lost your appetite.

——

You stood at Regina’s cubicle halfway listening to her speak and the other half focusing on Erik in his office. He looked bored as hell. Your eyes watched him ball up random printer paper from his fax machine to shoot into his document waste basketball hoop that he had in the corner near the door. He made it perfectly every time. Erik had the coolest office out of all the other Environmental Engineers. Besides the typical Newton’s Cradle pendulum balls that’s a famous desk accessory, he had a tropical tabletop fountain, stress relief visual illusion toys, stainless steel pin art hand mold, darts, a Rubik’s cube, Nintendo switch, and many other cool and fun shit.

“Girl,” Regina said chewing on a granola bar, “You’re not even paying attention to me.”

“I am,” You allow your eyes to fall on her accusatory ones, “I’m just...looking around.”

“No,” Regina puts up a hand to stop you, “You’re looking at Erik.”

Both Regina and yourself look over at him, spotting Erik walking back and forth now with his suit jacket removed and the sleeves of his white dress shirt rolled up. He was finger juggling a pen with his right hand while speaking into a Bluetooth in his ear.

“You might as well let him ruin you, Y/N,” Regina says with a whisper.

“Oh my God, Gina,” you stomp across the carpeted floor in your pumps before taking your seat again to finish organizing in Microsoft Excel.

“He could flirt with any other woman in here. Connie, Demetria, Anita, Nicole, any of those chicks, but he chooses you. Why is that, Y/N?”

“I don’t know, Gina, enlighten me,” You roll your eyes.

“No need. You already know. Erik is feeling you, heavy baby. Heavy like that ass in that skirt that we both know you purposefully wore today to make him look.”

“OKAY.” You stop her with an abrupt tone, “Fine. Yes, Gina. Yes, I know Erik is feeling me. But I am in a relationship and I can’t just-“

“Heffa, please,” Regina laughs, “don’t even try that shit with me. You are feeling him just the same. You and Eric with the C don’t even exist when you walk in here. It’s obvious you don’t want to be with that man anymore and I wouldn’t be surprised if he is fucking some chick in NYC and secretly taking her on his little food quests. You can look at me like that all you want but deep down you know I’m speaking facts.”

“Gina,” you speak with a warning, “I will throw this stapler at your head next.”

“Won’t. Change. The. Truth,” Regina flips her long ponytail.

A part of you did believe that Eric was cheating on you. It was so obvious at times but you didn’t want it to come to that. You and Eric have been together for about five years. But then again, that shit doesn’t matter. If it did, he would be worried about fixing the relationship instead of traveling for views.

Ping Ping

-Here comes Connie. Let me take a big gulp of air before she walks in here.

Erik instant messaged you. You snicker like a child doing some sneaky shit. He was so damn goofy.

-Damn. Why don’t you just offer her some gum?

-If I do that she’ll know I think her breath stink.

-Just play it cool. Have some sitting out, grab a piece, and offer her a stick. It’s that simple.

-she talks too damn much. Just talk to me about the Alaska job so I can be prepared. That’s why I’m glad you’re coming with me.

You looked up over your cubicle to watch Connie talking animatedly while Erik swivels in his chair from side to side.

Catch my eye.

Onyx met chestnut.

Erik covered his mouth with his fist to hold in his laughter before placing his hand up at Connie, from what it looked like, to reassure her that he wasn’t laughing at what she’d said.

-want me to drag her out of there by that takky blouse?

-Why are you such a gangsta, girl? LOL aight, come handle my light work, ma

-not before I get a hospital mask so I don’t breathe in her toxic fumes. Llab

-😂😂😂😂😂 straight stupid.

You snicker again.

“What is so damn funny?” Regina peered over at you with curious eyes.

“Just IM with Erik,” you bite the gel acrylic on your thumb nail to smother your giggles, “He can’t stand Connie.”

“Mhm,” Regina smiles, “y’all so damn cute just get married already.”

-she’s gone 😁

-let's celebrate lol.

Erik sends fireworks through the IM. You send balloons.

-enough about her. I see you 👀

-what’s that?

-you showing off. That attire is hella tight. What you doing with all of that?

-nothing. Lol, why do I have to be doing something?

-I know you wore that for my eyes only. I feel special.

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard. He was going down that lane. You weren’t prepared but still, you typed away.

-I figured you would appreciate it since my man wasn’t home to admire it before I left.

-Yo’ nigga got some screws loose because I wouldn’t be away letting my girl walk out the house like that.

-like what?

-with all that ass sitting in that skirt.

-can’t help that I have a lot to work with.

-ain’t no problem for me. If you were fucking with me Y/N I’d make you forget your name. Real talk.

You crossed your legs under the desk and rubbed the back of your neck. If he fucking bitches to make them forget their identities then that means his dick really ain’t nothing to play with.

-nothing to say huh?

-I’m just thinking.

-about what? Talk to me.

-why you really want me to come to Alaska with you.

-😌

-well? You’re gonna tell me why?

-Because I want you to myself.

-So I can show you something you’ve been missing.

-Eric ain’t putting it down on my work bae like he should be.

You were so damn nervous. Day by day Erik would grow more frustrated with Eric and your situation. Like Regina said, just let Erik ruin you. It’s a shame to say that you haven’t had sex in about a month. It was just you, your fingers, and your favorite vibrator. It could be Erik, his fingers, his dick, his mouth, and multiple orgasms.

-He’s not. It’s been too long. ☹️

-You ain’t gotta tell me how long. I can see it in your body language.

You twirl a braid in your hand. Looking away from your computer, you try to be discreet, bringing your eyes to peer over the top of your cubicle into Erik’s office. He was drinking a bottle of water while his eyes concentrated on the computer screen with knitted brows. He placed his bottle on the desk and leaned in, typing again.

Ping ping

-Don’t ignore me before I walk over there.

-ooooo I’m scared.

-Aight, bet. I’m coming.

-I want you to think long and hard about that, Stevens.

You were flustered, wet, shaken up that he wanted to “show you” what you’ve been missing, and willing to risk it all if he left his office space to come to talk to you.

-that’s what she said. 😈

You chuckle. He could turn any topic into sex.

“Hey, Erik,”

You look up to find him standing next to your cubicle while Regina looked at the both of you with interest. You stand from your seat, ready to get yourself some water but Erik has your shoulders.

“Where you going?” His husky voice tickled your ear.

“For some water.”

Erik starts massaging your shoulders lightly.

“Can I come with you? I need to stretch my legs.”

“Whatever, I don’t care.” You lead the way.

But you did care. You wondered what he was up to. Now that you walked ahead of him with that very tight wrap skirt on you felt exposed like he has x-ray vision and can see your phat dimpled cheeks bounce and sway. Thank God for an empty lounge. You walk over to the fountain, grabbing a cup, and Erik was right on your side, holding the tap down for you. Your cheeks poke out to hide your blush.

“Thank you,” you speak softly. His eyes were intent on you. Not once did you give in and look his way while drinking that ice-cold water. Suddenly unable to breathe you back up a little to make some space between you two. Erik followed with his hands in the pockets of his slacks.

“Don’t you have a ton of work to do?” You ask to try and divert the attention away from you. Too late. Erik was determined to make you weak in front of him.

“I do but we have a long day, ma. I’ll get it done. I just couldn’t stand being away from my work bae.”

You rub your fingers along the wet cup, “I’m convinced now that you only come to work to be near me.”

“I’m cool with that,” He shrugs, “I could be a whole lot of things if it wasn’t for your man who’s supposed to be home with you.”

“He’ll be back-“

“And then he’ll be gone again,” Erik let’s out a sigh, “We’re playing too many games, Y/N. I’m tired of the flirting back and forth when I know you really want me. Stop coming in here to impress me with these bomb-ass outfits. I’ve been impressed for over a year now.”

Erik closed the space between you both, pressing his chest against your fuller one. You look over his shoulder to make sure no one was coming and when the coast was clear you focused your heated gaze on him.

“I’m tryna undress you with my fucking hands, not my eyes.” Erik takes his fingers to play with the bow of your wrap skirt, “You feel what I’m saying?”

You couldn’t speak. Your eyes were to busy admiring this gorgeous man who wanted to fuck you. His inviting eyes saw exactly what you wanted. A long, hard, fuck. Taking his fingers, Erik grabs your chin delicately to stroke. He made you feel so precious and desired.

“So, can I do that?” Erik asked with his lips kissing along your jawline. Your eyes landed on the door to check it and still, no one was there.

“Can I take care of you, ma?”

Yes.

You had this look in your eyes, this look that said, please, Daddy, come fuck me. He smelled so damn good. So invigorating and moisturizing. You could make out a hint of exotic arabica coffee and coconut oil on the skin of his neck.

“No,” you lick your upper lip, “No, you can’t.”

His lips found yours. He swallowed that no with his full lips and tongue. Both of you knew that your answer was disbelieving when your hands came up to wrap around his neck. That was a green light for Erik. His hands came around your waist, and then down to cup your ass. He would alternate between rubbing your spine and making your cheeks bounce in his hands. Erik rests his chin on your shoulder so he could peer behind you to watch his hands squeezing all that ass on you. He would let it go and watch it bounce before slapping it lightly so he wouldn’t make a lot of noise. You felt your heart in your throat. Now, his crotch was pressed into yours. Long and hard indeed. Let’s not forget thick.

“You free tonight?” He whispered in your ear.

“Yeah,” you could feel him lifting you from the floor to sit your bottom on the counter. He was between your legs while your hands reach for his tie to tug on. It distracted you from being so nervous. His hands rested on your exposed upper thighs rubbing your warm skin in slow circles to sooth you. All he was doing was killing you. His touch was so soft and gentle but under all of that was a rough dominating grasp that you yearned for

You weren’t sure which throbbing you wanted to quiet more—the throbbing between your legs or the throbbing from your heartbeat against your chest. All those daydreams about rubbing your swollen pussy lips all over Erik’s face until you came. Now that the both of you crossed yet another line——the touching and kissing line, there was no telling what would happen next. Sex after hours in the office on his desk? Walks to the parking lot only to fuck in the back seat of his car? Happy hour on Friday evenings only to get drunk and have sex at his penthouse?

“Can I come over to keep you company?”

“I don’t know, E. This office fling situation can fuck with both of our jobs.” You nibble on your bottom lip the second his lips came into contact with your throat.

“Nobody gotta know,” his plush lips sought out yours again, “It can be our little secret, baby.”

“But what if someone does find out?”

“It won’t happen like that, trust me,” Erik grabs your hand to rest against his crotch. Erik was swelled to cum-inspiring proportions, making you want to finger-fuck yourself with mounting enthusiasm.

“Damn, Erik.” Now you were thinking about this office fling as a carnal delight after hours.

“I know, right? Imagine me walking around all day, watching you with these big titties...shapely legs...and round ass…”

You had the body, beauty, and brains. That meant that you seldom went unnoticed; especially not by Erik, your work bae. Your slant eyes and supple body reminded him of a jungle cat that, when tamed, purred like a kitten. He wanted to hear you mewl and whimper in his ear while his dick that was currently twisted and curved in his briefs bounced off the walls of your pussy. He could see the lust in your feline eyes how quickly you noticed his arched appendage. You were probably fantasizing about what wonderful things it could do for your G-spot.

“Keep looking at me like that and watch I finger-fuck this pussy right here,” Erik’s eyes went down to look at the Apple watch on his wrist, “It’s almost that time to eat. I’m tryna eat something else though…”

“Eat me?” You couldn’t control that slipping from your mouth.

“Slob on this yummy pussy,” his hand was between your legs now, caressing the outside of your saturated panties, “You gonna feed me?”

“Where?” You whisper.

“Shit, we can go to my car for lunch. I got tinted windows.” Erik was desperate to slide his tongue inside you.

“Erik, this is crazy.” You laugh faintly before he took your face into his hands, gazed into your eyes, and kissed you so urgently it felt as if you were floating away. You could think of nothing else but how good he made you feel. Erik explores your mouth with his tongue, not wanting you to miss an inch of how skilled he was using his mouth.

“You’ll be begging me to make this pussy feel good in a minute.”

You were relentless with your hands squeezing the weight of Erik’s curved erection in his black slacks. You really wanted to untuck his dress shirt, get down on your knees, and suck him with a wide-open mouth. Keep your mouth as wide-open as was physically possible—anxiously awaiting your reward.

“Don’t worry babe,” Erik gently pulls your hand away from his crotch, “wait for lunch and you can have me all to yourself, okay?”

———

You waited and waited. As soon as Erik left that lounge to go back to his desk a last-minute meeting was called and of course, you had to attend as well. Everyone got up from their designated spots to head to the conference room. You squeezed into the same elevator cart as Erik, moving to the back so you could be near him. On purpose, you settle in front of him. Erik’s hand reached out to play with your thick ass while you focused on your phone. That only lasted for about ten seconds because now you were on the 6th floor. Hungry for his touch again you allow everyone else to leave so he could slap your ass.

During the hour-long meeting, both of your eyes would meet and knowing smiles would appear on both of your faces. You didn’t like the fact that Demetria was seated next to him with her cleavage hanging out from her black blazer. She tried her best to make Erik notice her but he didn’t give a fuck about her thirsty actions.

It was well past lunchtime and most of the office had gone to either the food court in the building or outside to find something different to eat for a change. Your stomach was rumbling waiting for Erik. Groaning, you put your computer to sleep before grabbing your Chanel bag to leave for lunch by yourself. It wasn’t Erik’s fault, you knew that, but you couldn’t help being upset and sexually frustrated. No pussy eating or dick sucking in his G Wagon 550 SUV in a desert silver metallic color.

Eating alone was boring and lonely. You played with your Caesar salad and hardly even toughed the veggie lasagna. How were you supposed to feed your appetite when it was salivating for dick? You were so excited to finally hook up with Erik. Checking the time on your phone, you had about two hours left in your shift. You pack away the food and decide to save it for dinner tonight. Standing up, you push in the silver chair at the food court table, walking away with a click-clack of your So Kate pumps. You thumb the elevator button before slipping a piece of gum into your mouth. The doors open up and you enter, turning to watch them shut as your reflection appeared.

Ping ping

Erik -where did you go?

-To lunch. I was hungry.

Erik- Really? Why didn’t you wait for me?

-Because I was STARVING. Plus, you were busy.

Erik- I’m not busy anymore. Where are you now?

-Heading back upstairs.

Erik- I’ll wait for you.

-Erik, I have to go back to work!

Erik- fuck that you know what I want.

DING. Fifth Floor.

“Told you I’ll wait for you,” He smiles at you dangerously.

You almost swallow your gum the way he approached you. You and him, alone in that elevator. Erik kisses your lips, savoring the minty taste from the gum. He pulled back, taking his thumb to wipe the spit from his bottom lip. He turns around to press the 4th-floor button since that’s were the garage entrance was. Suddenly you were shaking in your pumps. It was really going to happen. Finally, your pussy wouldn’t feel painfully neglected. Finally, you could have the touch of a man on your body after an entire month.

“Are you okay?” Erik asked while looking down at you.

“Yeah, I’m cool,” you give him a reassuring smile.

DING. Fourth Floor.

Down a hallway and through the garage door you both went with your hand in Erik’s. You walk along the concrete ground as your ears took in the sounds of sirens and car horns honking in the middle of traffic. His G-Wagon was parked in a private spot. Erik took his keys out of his suit jacket and unlocked it with a click of a button, even started it up as well. You could hear the engine rumble. The large SUV vibrates as the sound of his radio playing blasted through the speakers. Erik opened the back door, reclining the backseats to lay flat like a bed. He takes off his suit jacket, tossing it in the passenger seat before turning to you, lifting you up, and sitting you in the back.

Once there, you take off your heels and place them far enough away so Erik and you could have plenty of space. Erik sat down, leaning forward to remove his shoes. After that, he unbuttoned his dress shirt before pulling it off and balling it up to toss at the front with his suit jacket. He finally turns, crawling his large chiseled body towards you with playful eyes.

“Is that pussy still as wet as it was earlier today? Can I taste that kitty?”

Erik pulled your legs, laying you down on your back. He was on his knees between your legs, opening them wide causing your skirt to lift and bunch around your waist. He came face to face with that phat puss covered in wet fabric. Your voice was stuck in your throat. Erik takes both of his masculine hands to pull down your already saturated panties, spreading open your legs further, and staring at that pink pussy coated with cream. He could smell your scent. His car smelling like your wet pussy.

“Yeah, this pussy still sloppy,” Erik listened to you purr as he flicked your clit with his thumb. Erik continues to do this while slapping your pussy with his fingers. Each time he slapped your pussy, your juices would build and build to the point of making puddles beneath your ass in his car.

“Can I stuff this pussy with my fingers now,” Erik licked his thick fingers clean, “I wanna squeeze in there deep, baby girl.”

“Yes,” Your cunt was starving.

“Good, girl.”

He plunged first one, then two, then three fingers deep inside your pussy, flickering at your clit at the same time. He was directly over your G spot with the pads of his fingers repeatedly rubbing you there. Your legs went wider and wider. The sound of your succulent pussy increased in such severity that it was almost deafening. Your moans mixed with the sound of The palm of Erik’s hand slapping your cunt each time he finger-fucked you had him grunting and groaning.

“Faster, faster,” You called out while gyrating your hips to fuck his fingers.

“There you go, fuck my fingers, just like that, get it, baby,” Erik bites his lip, “look at you ready to bust a nut on my hand, mmm, get that shit, baby.”

A rush of juices flooded the back seat. Erik’s eyes grew wide as your fingers tightened around him. That liquid poured each time he moved his fingers inside of you. All you could do was moan and shake beneath him. Your ass was glued to that surface.

“Damn, Y/N.” Erik takes his fingers out slowly before licking them clean. He got up on his knees to reach into his trunk, bringing a Puma gym bag over towards him. He opened it with his wet hands, pulling out a thick black towel that was wrapped in a body wash. Erik places that towel beneath your ass to soak up your mess.

“Making a mess in my fucking car.”

“I’m sorry,” You cover your face with embarrassment, “I do that a lot.”

“Don’t apologize about that, ma, I don’t give a fuck. Keep doing it like that on these fingers. Better yet...do it like that on my tongue,” Erik laid flat on his stomach, “You can squirt in Daddy’s mouth too.”

Erik began lapping away at your pussy with such zeal that you were squirming and squealing within minutes. With the flat of his tongue, Erik assaulted your pussy with such a lashing that your legs turned to jello. Erik then probed ever so deeply inside your dripping wet pussy with his pointed tongue, tongue-fucking your slot until your eyes rolled up into your head. He found your throbbing, erect clit and tortured you sweetly with licks and nibbles that sent electric charges throughout your entire body. Grabbing your thighs to squeeze, feasting on that syrupy pussy, Erik’s dick dripped pre-cum in anticipation of your walls capturing his dick and holding tight, while he thrust himself deeper and deeper inside of you.

“Damn, ma, I’m literally drinking this pussy dry.”

“You make me feel so good! Make me feel good, Erik.”

Erik’s tongue circled around your pussy. Each time he did that your hips would jerk. He was fighting that pussy back with his lips and tongue each time you pumped your hips. You gazed into his dark, sexy eyes and increased the movement of your hips.

“Oh, fuck!” Erik wrapped his whole mouth around your pussy and started slurping. All Erik could think about was how good you tasted and the heat radiating from your pussy.

“Shit tastes so good, girl,” He licked his plate clean, “fuck, look at my dick.”

His shit was twisted and curved to the right in those pants. Erik got on his knees to undo his pants. He let out a long sigh of relief the minute his pants and briefs made it down his thighs, resting at his knees. He sat down and pulled the rest of his clothes off, now he was naked from the waist down. You watch his thick dick jerk in his hand. That dick looked like it could bench press a barbell with how hard he was as Erik slid his hand up and down his burgeoning erection. His dick skyrocketed to its highest capacity causing your mouth to drool. Erik pointed out that dick at your mouth. Doing that caused his slit to open and show you his pre-cum waiting to be sucked out.

“Come suck me, baby,” His grip was so tight on his dick.

You obeyed every word and sucked him up into your mouth. Damn, Erik was a big boy. So girthy and veiny. Intimidating for sure. His tip blossomed so thickly your lips had a hard time wrapping around it to suck. Erik with a C ain’t have nothing on this dick. A beautiful slab of tasty meat gliding across your tongue and poking the back of your throat.

“Damn, this is how you do it, ma? You should have warned a nigga first.”

He held the back of your head to guide your mouth lower. Each time he did that, he would grunt and whisper oh, my God, which made you super wet. All you wanted him to do was splatter your mouth with his cum. He was already so close to detonation so you opened up as wide as you could stretch to fill him all the way in.

“DAYUM!!!” Erik bellowed, “Good girl, don’t waste a fucking drop when I bust in this pretty mouth. Never.”

You graduated from plain old hungry to ravenous. That cum of his sputtering and spurting forth was your reward. The suctioning noise of your hand jerking him empty into your throat mixed with Erik’s deep moans made your pussy convulse around nothing even though you could feel it dripping. You slapped his ever-expanding dick against your tongue.

“Shit,” Erik looked from his wet dick to your face, “Baby girl, I ain’t cum this hard in a minute from getting head.”

You plant kisses all over his dick, working yourself up to more sucking, “I can give you more, Daddy.”

“Give me more of that mouth,” Erik played with your braids, “Swallow my shit and lick my balls.”

“Mmm, okay, Daddy.”

Erik’s eyes rolled back when your lips would suck and then pop off his sack. He had to control himself from cumming in your hair.

“Shit doesn’t make no sense,” Erik looked at you with disbelief before a strangled look filled with passion overtook his features.

“Fffuckkk!!!” He groaned as he blasted inside your mouth with his sweet, sticky offering. You ran your index finger over your bottom lip to retrieve a dollop of cum. That only left you more famished than before causing you to enthusiastically slurp on his rigid pipe again until it was damn near raw and your pussy was sopping wet.

“Y/N,” Erik’s fingers were tight in your hair. You tasted a bit of leftover cum from his slit with your hungry tongue.

Ring Ring

Erik’s cell was going off.

“Shit,” He reached into his pants pockets while you jerked his dick. He answered his phone with an annoyed expression.

“What’s going on, Greg,” Greg was a fellow Environmental Engineer, “What? Right now?” Erik closed his eyes before tossing his head back, “Okay, give me ten minutes.”

Erik hung up his phone.

“We gotta go, ma,” You could hear the disappointment in his voice, “Supposedly it’s something urgent about Alaska.”

You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, “Should I be worried about the trip?”

Erik gave you a soft smile, “Nah, Alaska is happening regardless. Don’t worry, bae, we good.”

You pulled your skirt down and placed your wet panties in your bag. You watched Erik fasten his belt in place before he opened the back door to let some air in. You rose from the car, Erik helping you put on your pumps before placing you on your feet. Digging into your bag you sprayed yourself with a little of your Chanel No.5, hoping to camouflage the lingering scent of sex.

Looking in Erik’s rearview mirror, you fix your lipgloss and clothes, everything else good to go. Erik was currently spraying himself down with some Gucci cologne from his Puma gym bag and buttoning his suit jacket. He looked just as crisp as he did when he came in this morning.

“You still ain’t answer my question, beautiful.”

“What question,” Erik grabs your hand while the both of you walked back inside.

“Can I keep you company later?”

You chew on your bottom lip in thought. Eric with the C, your actual boyfriend, might call you later and you didn’t want Erik with the K to be around to raise suspicion. Still, no word from Eric and the longer that happened the more you didn’t give a fuck.

“Am I pressing too much?” Erik asks with soft eyes.

“No, no,” you reassured him, “I just think it would be better to come to your place instead. That’s all.”

“We can do that,” Erik walked towards you with his body pressed into yours, “Bring an overnight bag. You’re not going back home.”

His lips attacked your throat again, sucking and licking you there.

“I ain’t give my work bae some dick yet so you know I gotta take care of you,” His hands found their way back between your legs and on your sensitive pussy, “You gonna let me do that for you?” He asked huskily.

“Oh, Daddy, please do,” you responded.

————

You got home around 6:30 PM. You showered, finished the rest of your lunch since your appetite for dick was satisfied and drank a little bit of red wine.

Surprised, shocked, nervous, you decided to wear a black velour tracksuit with your Fenty slides to Erik’s place and packed away everything else you needed on a faux fur tote bag. Phone sitting on the charger, you go to check it since you received a few notifications since coming home.

Eric with the C.

Eric- I’m alright. Sorry for the lack of communication. Really busy.

-that’s okay. Be safe.

He didn’t respond back.

No I love you, I miss you, I’m thinking about you, nothing.

Luckily the picture Erik sent to you made up for that. It was a shower picture. From his broad shoulders down to his well-knit waist with that v cut covered in soap and water. You had the urge to satisfy the cries leaking from your pussy at the moment. You had half the mind to pull your pants down and finger-fuck your pussy into multiple orgasms leaving your slit covered in sticky cum for him to find. How dare he tease you like that? Since you were spending the night you can look forward to shower with him. This entire fling had your skin tingling. Your fingers scrolled down to read the texts he left you. You really wished you hadn’t because now you were whimpering.

Erik- Can’t wait for you to put that work in for Daddy.

Erik- where you at? I’m tryna put this thang in your gut.

Erik- want me to come to get you?

He was blowing you up. Eric with the C never did this.

-Hey, sorry, I was getting my things together. You don’t have to pick me up.

HONK HONK.

Erik- too late.

You walk to your living room to find Erik parked outside. He was typing away on his phone.

Ping Ping

Erik- Stop making me wait, girl.

You grab your bag, phone, and keys before locking up and leaving. Walking down your cobblestone trail, Erik hops out of his car, walking around to meet you. He was wearing a black Burberry ribbed beanie with a Pyer Moss color block Reebok windbreaker tracksuit on and the same brand of shoes on his feet. He tongued you down before taking your bag to place in the back seat that was now cleaned and placed normally. Erik opened your door to help you up inside before shutting it to return to the driver's side. You watched him walk all the way around and get inside with sultry eyes. With his hand on your upper thigh, he drove off and towards his Penthouse.

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