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kiribaku-queen · 3 years

Text

Sexercise [18+]

TW: rough sex, multiple partners, overstimulation, oral sex, penetration, spanking, choking, hair pulling, smacking (face), fingering, bruising

Word count: 6.8K

Summary: When you go to a new gym for special workouts but you aren't getting your needs met. Your trainer is here to help, offering special sessions to help get both of your sexual frustrations out.

A/N: Okay, shit writing BUT just think about the concept. I took the liberty of writing this piece because I couldn't get it out of my head!! This collab was really fun to do! Although stressful, I would love to do it again! Check out all the other writer's work for this collab! They are all so talented and just W O W

Inspired by the Korean Webtoon: Sexercise! It's actually really good and I was so obsessed with it. Here's my version but with Bakugou <3

Also, sorry if I tag the trigger warnings wrong >< I'm so new to this!

You stepped out of the freshly, hot shower, carefully drying every inch of your body before putting on the exercise clothes the gym had provided you.

You know. You didn’t bring your own clothes and the gym gave you some to wear? Well, this isn’t your typical gym.

It all started when you saw their promotion flyer hidden behind many others on the bulletin board on your way home. You’ve been meaning to get back to the gym and this one looked promising. A new form of exercise that’ll make you come back for more? Curiosity got the best of you and you headed to the gym to check it out.

Upon arriving, it looked like a regular gym. They had all the necessary equipment that you see in any gym. What’s so special about this gym? And what ‘new form’ of exercise were they talking about, you asked yourself.

“Hi, are you new here?” you hear a voice from behind you. You spun around to see a beautiful, fit woman greet you.

“Ah, yes I’m actually looking to sign up for that new form of exercise written on this flyer,” you explained, showing the lady the flyer you picked up. She grabbed it from you, shocked and disbelief written all over her face.

“Who the fuck did this?” she grumbled under her breath. But she did it right in front of you so you heard everything she said. She didn’t sound too happy, by the way her eyebrows crunched in rage. Her reaction made you back away, feeling uncomfortable. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to come to this gym after all. The lady noticed how you were shifting in your stance and cleared her throat, fixing her posture to look professional.

“Sorry if I scared you,” she laughed embarrassedly. “We just don’t promote this gym very much so it was a surprise to see this flyer. I’m guessing you’re not familiar with the workouts we do here?”

“Uhm, not really,” you say shyly. She looks you up and down and thinks for a moment. Then, she goes behind her desk and pulls out this thick contract.

“Well, before we get started, I’m going to need you to sign this nondisclosure agreement and fill out your personal information here. After all this is completed, I can take you around for a tour!” she exclaimed. You were a bit reluctant to even sign this and was about to walk out the door. What kind of gym is this that you need to sign an NDA? But it couldn’t hurt right?

When you signed the last line of that NDA form, she took you on your tour right away. And that’s when you found out the through about this gym.

“Ah, fuck~!”

“HNGH, hah!”

“Good, I wanna see 10 more reps.”

This gym helps their members enjoy working out through the pleasure of sex.

So here you were, stretching your muscles out in your assigned room for your first session. You felt that familiar feeling at the bottom of your stomach due to nervousness and excitement. You’ve always loved having sex. Having multiple partners? Eh, not so much. But you’ve been single for way too long and it’s been a while since you’ve had a good sex experience. Plus, you’ve been meaning to start exercising again so this was such a perfect gym for you. You’re just hoping that it’ll meet your expectations.

You heard two voices coming in your direction. A muscular man with dark green hair and similar clothes to what you were wearing and an angry, blondie with a trainer outfit on were entering the room, chatting away like they knew each other.

“(y/n)?” the blonde one spoke up.

“Ah, yes. That’s me,” you wiped your sweaty palms on your pants and reached out your hand to shake the trainer’s hand.

“Bakugou. I’ll be your trainer today,” he introduced himself. His palm in yours felt so heavy andstrong. He gripped your hand firmly, but only for a second and let go, his presence leaving you empty. Who knew that someone could have that kind of effect on you. You wanted so badly to take his large hands and have them roam all around your bod- You shook your head out of these naughty thoughts. What were you thinking? Sure, you were having sex but this was your workout, not some hookup. Plus, he’s your trainer. He’s not the one you were going to have sex with. It was that handsome hunk beside him.

“Introduce yourself,” Bakugou nudged the man. The green-haired man gave you a shy smile and a small wave.

“Midoriya Izuku. Most people call me Deku, but you can call me by what makes you most comfortable,” Deku says. You smile. His personality and demeanor reminded you of a puppy. But not a small puppy. He was more like a Great Dane: sweet but large in size. Looking at both of them now, they were both very muscular, almost towering over your small figure. You looked over at your trainer who was writing something down on his clipboard. Now he was very attractive. He’s got the face, the voice, the body. God, he was your type. Your partner was also good looking. No matter how much you wanted to have this session with someone else, your partner will do for now. With a build like that, you were sure you were going to enjoy this sex session.

“Alright, (y/n). Since this is your first time here, I’ll run over the basics. Before every session, each partner will give the other a massage to loosen up. If you could lay on the mat, please,” he instructs, pointing over to the mat that was laying on the floor.

You nodded in understand, laying on your stomach and resting your chin on your arms. Deku comes up behind you, sitting on top of the back of your legs. You jump in surprise, but Deku hushes you and gently pushes you back down.

“I’ll make you feel good, don’t worry,” he leans down to whisper in your ear.

Deku starts his massage by pressing both of his thumbs in the middle of your back, going up your spine. You almost let out a moan of pleasure from how good you felt. His large hands felt amazing on your back. Damn, forget about the sex. You’ll gladly be content with this. His hands skillfully rubbed your entire back, switching between a firm and soft pressure. You definitely felt relaxed and comfortable now. So this is why they start off every session with a massage. You were about to fully succumb to his touch, that is, until your trainer interrupted you.

“Okay, you can switch now. Sir, please lay on your stomach,” he instructed. Ah, right. You were still being talked through everything by Mr. Grumpy Pants here. Deku was used to this, so he laid down and you were the one to get on top now.

You started your massage off slow. Your touch was soft and gently, trying to touch every part of his body and get him to relax as much as possible. You tried copying a few of his moves, improvising here and there. So far, so good. You could feel Deku’s muscles loosen under you and he sighed in satisfaction.

“Alright, sir. Now I’m gonna have you lay on your back. Ma’am, go ahead and massage his chest,” Bakugou instructed. Swiftly and skillfully, Deku maneuvered his body around so that you were straddling his waist from the front.

“Oh!” you made a sound of surprise. You could have gotten up and let him take his time turning around, but he had his own plans. You could tell he’s done this many times before.

You were shy about giving him the massage at first. It’s not the first time you’ve touched a man’s chest, but it was your first time giving a massage with the man looking at you with such intense eyes. Deku’s hands were crossed behind his head, enjoying the show he was given. His eyes never left yours for a second, making sure he mapped every inch, every curve of your body and imprinted in his brain. You didn’t know where to look. While he was staring at with you eyes of lust, you were looking anywhere else but him; his chest, the floor, your hands. How could you concentrate when he’s looking at you like that?

You couldn’t help but shift in your position to get more comfortable, but in doing so, you sat right on his crotch. A bolt of electricity shot through your body when you felt his hard on growing larger with each passing second. It took you everything in your power not to moan right then and there. You didn’t want to look desperate so soon in the session. But Deku was making it so hard. Bakugou looked up from his clipboard to see a very obvious tent in the male’s pants.

“Hard already? It’s only the beginning of the massage,” Bakugou pointed out. Deku smirks and puts one hand on your thigh, caressing firmly.

“What can I say? She’s a beautiful girl,” Deku compliments. Bakugou doesn’t respond to his comment and instead, instructs him to do something else.

“Sir, please massage her breasts in this position,” Bakugou says. Without hesitation, Deku gropes your breasts with his massive hands. Every time he squeezed a bit too tightly, every time he readjusts his pose, it was all driving you mad. The heat between your thighs was telling you that you wanted, needed, to be touched. You bit your lips to stop another moan from coming out. Deku takes notice of your small action and decides, with a devilish smirk, to take matters into his own hands. He grabs a hold of your waist and juts his hips upwards so that his boner rubbed against your sopping, wet cunt. With so much force he put into that thrust, your body got pushed forward, allowing Deku to grab your breasts even more tightly. Finally, that long awaited moan escapes your lips.

“There we go,” Deku whispers, continuing his movements. You closed your eyes, enjoying the friction he was supplying you with. But before anything could get too heated, Bakugou, once again, interrupts.

“You probably already know what to do but I’ll explain just in case,” Bakugou starts, putting down his clipboard and goes to the draw that was sitting on the side. He brings out a bottle of oil and kneels behind you. “May I?” he asks while pointing to your top.

“Ah, yes,” you softly say. With his rough, calloused hands, he rakes his fingers up your side before removing your top. Your breasts spill out with a flop, making Deku’s eyes widen in thirst. Bakugou disregards his reaction, continues to put oil on his hands and starts to massage your breasts.

“Be careful when massaging women’s breasts. You don’t want to be too rough that it hurts or too soft that she can’t feel anything. The closer you get to the nipple, the more sensitive she is so be careful when touching them,” Bakugou explains. Like a pro, he starts to play around and twists your sensitive nipples. But just like in his explanation, he used different pressures in different areas to give you the ultimate pleasure. You moan in ecstasy, allowing yourself to submit to his touch. The back of your head landed on his shoulder and you just laid it there while he played with your breasts. Bakugou chuckled softly in your ear and gently pushed you up.

“Okay, give it a try,” he was addressing Deku. Deku nodded with excitement, eager to continue the session. Bakugou guides you to your partner, but his touch lingered on your back for a second too long. You looked back at your trainer and made eye contact with those fiery, crimson eyes. But your attention was stolen by the green-haired man under you. Deku had this talk to many times before that he goes right in to touch your soft, naked tits. It doesn’t take long for his tongue to find its way to your nipple. His wet tongue sliding against your sensitive buds excited you and only made you want more. You started griding your hips downwards to meet his upwards thrusts.

Very quickly, the chemistry between you two started getting more heated. Clothes were coming off one by one. Deku moves so that he is sitting up while you straddle. You cupped his face and brought him in for a kiss. As you guys were making out, you pull his shirt up to reveal part of his abs. At first, you just wanted to tease and feel his body but your horniess was off the charts and just touching caused you to want more of him.

For a moment, Izuku separates from you to take his shirt off and then his lips are right back on yours. Then he leans you back so you’re laying on your back and he’s leaning over you. He quickly disposes of his clothes and then rips your pants off. He sees that you’re already so wet and don’t need prepping. Neither does Deku apparently. When you looked down, he dick was so erect that precum was already leaking out.

Deku leans over you, panting slightly from your make out session, and lines his dick up with your entrance while pumping it a few times. Before he’s right about to stick it in, Bakugou slaps the back of his head. A now agitated Deku springs up, but before he could say anything, Bakugou just throws a condom at him.

“Slow down. Don’t forget that this is an exercise session. Now I want to see 50 reps,” Bakugou scolded.

“Fuckin hell,” he complains. He looks back at you and smirks. “Ready?” You nod eagerly wanting more than anything to just be fucked right now.

Deku slides his throbbing cock inside your long awaited pussy and you swear you could see stars. The stretch from his thick, veiny dick felt so amazing that your eyes rolled to the back of your head. Deku stayed still to let you adjust to his size. The feeling of being stuffed by a fat cock, and by a handsome guy at that, is already making your pussy clench tightly around him.

Deku lets out a sigh of pleasure and starts thrusting. The numbing feeling caused all his hairs to stand on end.

God, when he put his dick in, man did it feel good. But as soon as he started fucking you, you didn’t feel fully… satisfied. The initial stretch was the best feeling you’ve had yet. For some reason, the sex didn’t feel as good as you wanted it to be. Maybe you were too into your head? Maybe you just had to relax and just have a good time. But that was hard to do when your partner was whispering the countdown to himself.

There was no doubt that Izuku was enjoying his time with you, but he was so concentrated on the 50 reps that he wasn’t thinking about making you feel good. He thrusted inside you, not taking into consideration of where inside you he was hitting. Heat rushed to your cheeks in embarrassment. This wasn’t what you had in mind for your first session. You felt bad that you weren’t enjoying it, but you didn’t want to show it. With each snap of his hips, you forced out a moan to make it believe that you were having a good time. Every now and then, you’d let out a bigger, more convincing moan to change it up a bit.

This sucks. What’s the different between this and having sex with some stranger after a night out? They both can’t hit the right spot. He isn’t even going the speed you want him to. You wanted to be pounded into. You wanted him to fuck you so hard and so rough that you can’t walk the next morning. You wanted him to leave dark bruises all over your body but he wasn’t giving it to you.

You started getting bored midway through his reps and opened your eyes to look around the room. Maybe you could entertain yourself some other way while Deku was having his fun. You happened to look at your trainer who was looking at his own clipboard. He wasn’t even paying attention to you guys at all. He was writing down notes. What was he really writing though? Bakugou glanced away from his notes and made eye contact with you for a quick second. It was only for a second but it was enough to make you feel embarrassed that you got caught. You immediately closed your eyes to pretend that that small little eye contact didn’t happen.

“…48…49….50!” Izuku finally finished, giving you a nice, deep, hard thrust to finish it all off. That was good, but not enough. You eventually got fed up and flipped him over so that now you were on top. You were going to ride him until you were satisfied and full. But before you could lower yourself onto him, Deku holds your shoulders to stop you. He became a little flustered that you decided to take control because this wasn’t a part of the session. He looked at Bakugou for approval and he sighed, but eventually nodded his head.

“We can change it up,” Bakugou allowed. “But, (y/n). Now I want to see 50 reps from you.” He instructed.

“Yes sir,” you replied quickly. You just wanted him inside you, you didn’t have time for this chit-chat. So slowly but surely, you lowered yourself onto his dick, gasping the way he filled you up. You were able to fully sit, his dick disappearing completely inside you. The tip finally hit you where you wanted. Using your heels as leverage, you moved in the way you wanted. You made sure that pull all the way out before slamming into his dick again, loving the way he just fills you up. You loved how you were in control, shaking your ass up and down, hearing your sloppy cunt slap against his skin, how wet it must be down there.

God, but you wanted more. You guided Deku’s hands to grab your ass but all he does it grab onto it. Maybe a squeeze here and there. He was so entranced in the sex, his head was tilted back with his eyes shut closed, constant moans escaped his mouth. He loved the feeling of your pussy clenched around him to even think about anything. But you bit your lip in frustration. You didn’t want his hands just laying on you. You wanted him smack it with as much force as he could. He could put those muscles to use and man handle you a little. But you were here to fend for yourself. A visible pout was permanent on your lips but your partner wasn’t able to see it because he was enjoying himself below you.

But your trainer did. Bakugou was paying close attention to you. From the moment Izuku’s cock entered you to your little pout, he noted every movement and every expression you made. He raised an eyebrow, noting that small action and saving it for later.

Deku’s moans were growing louder and more inconsistent. He bucked his hips up, trying to be in motion with you but was getting sloppier by the second. It soon became too much for him and hot, white cum exploded inside the condom.

“Fuuuuck,” Izuku let out one last breath and flopped his arm out in exhaustion. He took a minute to catch his breath while you were getting off him and already started cleaning yourself up. Dammit, you didn’t even cum.

You were gathering your belongings, meanwhile, Izuku was chatting it up with Bakugou again. Before he leaves, Izuku comes up to you, places a hand on your lower back and gave you a genuine smile.

“Thanks for the amazing session,” he said. You gave him your best, fakest smile.

“Back at ya,” you reply. Your smile dropped the moment you turned around and you sighed in annoyance. You hated to think that you’d have to go home to finish yourself off but it looks like that’s exactly what you were going to have to do. Bakugou came up behind you and cleared his throat, causing you to jump in place.

“How was your first session?” he asked. You took a sip of your water to give it a bit of thought. Was this a fun experience? Oh, most definitely. Would you do it again? Probably. Did you cum? Hard no.

“It was good,” you lied. The experience was definitely new and refreshing but the sex was so mediocre that it was almost a little boring. But you couldn’t tell your trainer that. So you gave a sweet smile and picked up your bag. “I’ll see you at the next session!”

But the next session felt exactly the same as the first. You had a different partner this time. A big, scruffy dude with semi-long red hair that was pulled in a ponytail. He was just as built as Izuku, if not bigger. He had the cutest and sweetest personality. And just seeing him, you’d think this cute puppy would turn into a hungry wolf but you were wrong. As per usual.

Bakugou had made you kneel on this couch that he had provided. Kirishima was fucking you from behind but not hitting any of the right spots. His large hands were placed on your hips but they were glued there and he wasn’t touching you anywhere else.

Again, you faked your moans to mask the image of you not having a good time. Though, when you peeked behind you to get a look at your partner, he was in pure bliss. Eyes closed, mouth hung open, eyebrows furrowed in concentration, sweat trickling down his forehead. Damn, was it a sexy sight. At least he was having a fun time.

Every now and then, your mind would wander. It could be many things: you could think about what you were going to eat for dinner, or what your partner was like in bed with a lover, or if you forgot to turn the light off in your bathroom. Oh shit, what were you doing again? You opened one eye and Kirishima was focused solely on slamming his dick in your vagina. Sighing, you had to remind yourself that this was meant for exercise, not for pleasure. Although, it would be nice if you could feel nice too once in a while. Exercise was the prime reason you signed up but like… you thought it would be a win-win situation.

Your mind continued to wander for the rest of the session until you mind was set on a certain trainer you have the hots for. You could see his muscles through his tight fitted shirt, making him look even more buff than he already was. He looked so strong, you could only imagine what having sex with him was like.

You could imagine it now; face twisted in pleasure as he pounds into mercilessly, just like how you want it. You could feel that familiar butterfly feeling in the pit of your stomach just thinking about it. But then, you thought that he must be like all the other men; only chasing their own high instead of pleasuring their partner.

Session after session was exactly the same. You can pleasure that dick, but he can’t even find the clit. But honestly, you were okay with it because at least you could exercise while doing your favorite sport.

You were wiping yourself up after one session, drinking from a bottled water as your trainer, Bakugou, comes up behind you.

“How was the session?” Bakugou asked after your partner has just left the room. You took another sip of water before answering.

“Mhm, it was okay,” you tried your best to sound positive. You thought your conversation was going to end there, like it always has but something in Bakugou decided to investigate a little further.

“How do you really feel?” he questions you, stepping a little closer and observing your facial features for any lies. “I could tell that you weren’t enjoying it. Off day?” You put your water bottle away, thinking of how to respond to him. Did you really want to tell him how you were really feeling? You didn’t want to seem like a freak to him. Did you really want to tell him how you like to be choked, so much so that you feel like you can’t breath. Or that you want someone to just spank you until there’s bruises because you love the idea of being marked. Or that you want to feel stuffed to the brim but still beg for more?

“I just like it a little rough,” you explained. Bakugou nods his head and hums in understanding.

“I thought they were going pretty rough on you,” he thought. But you just groaned and rolled your eyes.

“I guess, but I want more!” you exclaim, letting out an exasperated sigh. “This is why I have such a hard time with my sex life because every guy is too busy chasing after their own high that they forget that I need to feel good too. Not every guy is into rough sex. I know that. But I just want someone to blow my back out for once! Like not holding back and just fuck me until I’m in tears… but one can only dream, right?” you chuckled at the end. You didn’t mean to go on a tangent but fuck it, why not? He’s your trainer anyway. He’s supposed to know everything about you if he wants to tend to your needs. Bakugou just looks at you in silence. You take that as a sign to continue.

“I mean, don’t get me wrong. This whole program is fun and I really love the idea but just once in a while, I want to have good sex, too,” you continued to open up to your trainer. You finally turned your head to get a look at his reaction to your rant and you saw those crimson getting closer and closer to you until you were right under him, looking up. Your heart skips a beat having him so close to you. You could smell his burnt vanilla caramel cologne, his scent filling all of your senses at once.

“Then would you like a private session?” he asks you in a whisper, his head tilted down at you. You were so mesmerized by him that you followed his every move.

“With who?” you asked.

“Me.” He responded in that sexy, raspy voice of his.

“When?”

“Now.” Bakugou pushes you against the cold mirror as a form of intimidation. Bakugou knows that he shouldn’t be doing this. Taking advantage of your weakness, suggesting private sessions when he’s strictly not allowed to, especially not on company’s time. It was wrong. But he’s had his eyes on you since the moment you walked in the gym for the very first time. And when you said what you said earlier, it was practically fate that you became one of his students.

The cold mirror touching your back sent you into shock, but the warmness of his body touching your chest made up for it all. He tilts your chin up so you could look in his half closed eyes full of lust. And then you couldn’t take it anymore.

You grabbed him by the neck and pulled him in for a hungry kiss. Your lips smashed together, causing your teeth to crash but you didn’t care. And neither did Bakugou because he was just as hungry as you, kissing you with the same amount of passion.

He wraps his arm your waist, pulling you closer to him, if that was even possible at this point. With one swift handful of ass, he lifts you off your feet so that your legs were wrapped around his waist. The moment you became stable, Bakugou gives your ass a smack, making you jolt up.

“Mhm!” you made a surprised noise through the kiss but didn’t stop kissing him. God, you didn’t want to stop. When you came back down, you could feel his erection resting right on top of your clit. He carries you to one of the equipment stored in the room, a couch, while you grind on him, hopping to get more friction to stimulate your needs.

As soon as your back hit the couch, clothes were already being stripped off of you. There goes your shirt, then your sports bra. Finally, your pants. Last but not least, your lace panties that were already wet from your previous session are now even more soaked from his teasing. Wasting no time in discarding your panties, he pulls your waist I so that you’re laying flat on your back, your pussy right in his face I all of its glory.

“Fuck, you’re already so wet for me. I haven’t even done anything yet,” he says. You could feel his beath tickling your wet folds. He was so close yet so far. Just having his breath on you made your pussy clench over nothing. Bakugou puts his nose right on your clit, taking a good whiff of your after workout sex. God, it was intoxicating and he couldn’t wait to dig right in.

“Thank you for the food,” he says before completely devouring you. He took no time in exploring every fold, every inch of your pussy, eating you out like there was no tomorrow. He was rough around your entrance but soft and gentle around your clit. It was like light feather licks, barely touching you but sending you into sensory overload. When he got closer to your entrance, that’s when he started to get rough. Slurping and devouring your wetness, getting every last drop and leaving no leftovers.

Bakugou grabbed hold of your thighs, squeezing them and pulling your body even closer to his face so he could tongue fuck you. His tongue enters you, pushing its way through to get a better taste of your sweet cunt. At the same time, your mouth is hung open in pleasure, moans spilling out of your mouth and you couldn’t stop. Bakugou took this opportunity to stick three fingers in your mouth.

“Noisy bitch. Suck,” he commanded. And so you sucked on his fingers, like a little girl eating her lollipop. He only had three fingers in your mouth, but they were so thick that you couldn’t possibly put any more in. Yet you still covered his fingers in your thick saliva, making sure each finger was coated and wet enough so he could fuck you.

You looked up at him, purposefully making a sultry face, with your big, innocent eyes. You wanted to give him a small show, making sure that he was watching every move that you made. Your tongue found its way in between each finger, licking up and down, sucking each individual finger, and letting go with a loud ‘pop’. You got disappointed when Bakugou removed his hands from you mouth. But was pleasantly surprised when he stuck all three fingers in your throbbing cunt without warning. It’s not like you needed the prepping anyway when you were already soaking wet. Your back arched and chills ran down your spine. You didn’t know how this was possible, but the moment he entered his fingers, it was pure bliss. You already felt like you wanted to cum because he just managed to hit that magical spot in one go. You couldn’t even imagine what it would feel like when he fucks you with his fat cock.

“God, you’re so fucking tight. I can feel you clenching around me,” Bakugou watched as he slides his fingers in and out of your slick folds. He gives you a minute to adjust before picking up the pace. Every thrust of his hand, he keeps getting deeper and is always right the perfect damn spot. It was driving you mad. He hasn’t even fucked you yet and you were already a moaning mess. You couldn’t even form any words, you were such in a trance. It wasn’t before long until you had that familiar feeling in the pit of your stomach. The feeling gradually and rapidly escalated. Bakugou could feel it too: the way your walls clenched around his fingers a little too tight, he knew you were going to cum anytime soon.

“Bakugou~” you whined, holding onto his forearms for dear life. You needed to prepare yourself for this one.

“Gonna cum, princess?” Bakugou teased. You couldn’t answer him. More like you weren’t able to hear his question because you were so focused on this intense feeling that was going to explode any minute. Bakugou took his free hand and pushed your legs up so that they were pressed against your chest. He, then, leaned on them so weren’t able to move or squirm out of his grasp. And he went even faster, the sound of your juices was sinful.

“AH!” you screamed, letting your orgasm take over and wash over you. You thought he would stop once you had your first orgasm but he wasn’t stopping. He continued his fast pace. You wanted to make him stop, the overstimulation was getting too much for you. You tried moving your legs but Bakugou’s grip on you was nailed down. You weren’t going anywhere. You just had to take it but it still felt so good. The moment you felt like it was all too much to handle, Bakugou took his fingers out. And they were covered in a thick, white consistency. If he spread his fingers out, your cum would string along each finger. Bakugou didn’t hesitate to lick it all off with one swipe of his tongue.

“On all fours,” he demanded, standing up while pumping his cock for you. You didn’t have to be asked twice. Despite the numb feeling in between your legs, you enthusiastically got on your hands and knees, ready to be penetrated by your trainer. Bakugou gave your ass a small smack before lining his cock in front of your entrance. That small smack was enough for you to have hearts in your eyes. You let out a small mewl of delight and Bakugou smirked.

“Yeah? You like it when I smack your ass?” Bakugou asked.

“I love when you smack my ass. Please spank me again,” you begged. Bakugou took his hand and gave you cheek another blow, this time harder than the last. Bakugou made sure to look for any change in your expression, careful not to hurt you. But you wanted more. You wanted him to hit your harder.

“Spank me harder, sir,” you pleaded, moving lower so that your ass was hanging in the air. You wiggled your butt, wanting more from the strong blonde. He smirks even bigger, almost animalistic like.

“That’s a good girl,” his voice became raspy and wasted no time in giving you a nice, hard smack to your right cheek. You cried out in a pleasurable pain. You smiled into your moans, drool starting to come out from the sides of your mouth. The sound of his hand making contact to your bare cheek was so loud that it could be heard from outside the closed room. Bakugou spanked you until your cheek was red and raw from his large hands. This. This was what you wanted. This is what you’ve been wanting for so long and you were finally going to get it.

Oh sweetie, the main course hasn’t even started yet. How could you feel this good when he hasn’t even fucked you yet? You could feel the tip of his dick teasing your entrance. You wanted to lean into him yourself, not wanting to wait any longer, but Bakugou had a strong hold on your hips. He gave his cock a few more pumps before slowly sliding his cock inside your ready, wet pussy.

You both moaned in sync at the feeling: his fat cock throbbing inside you and your tight pussy clenching around his cock. Bakugou started thrusting at a good pace. But just like how his fingers felt, he was hitting that sweet spot of yours perfectly. Every thrust was making you see stars.

“Mhm~ Bakugou, faster!” you whined in between moans. Bakugou grabs a fistful of hair before pulling you up so that your back was arched.

“Needy, aren’t we? And what if I say no?” Bakugou asked in your ear. You just whimpered, reaching behind you to grasp his waist and force him to go faster as you try to back into him at the same time. Bakugou didn’t like this too much. He let go out your hair and went straight to your neck, cutting off your air momentarily.

“Did I say you could do that?” he questioned through gritted teeth. You quickly shook your head.

“No, sir,” you barely managed to say due to your lack of oxygen. He gave you another squeeze before a few smacks to the cheek.

“There we go. Now let’s try that again. What if I say no?” he asks again. You bit your lip trying to come up with an answer. But it was hard to think with a hand was at your throat.

“Please! God, I want you so bad. I want you to fuck me, please!” you practically screamed.

“Good girl,” he said and let go of your neck. You gasped for air, coughing in the process but Bakugou didn’t allow you to fully recover. He pounded into you with no mercy. You couldn’t stop your ahego expression from happening, your tongue hung out and your eyes crossed.

He stopped pounding into you to slowly slide his cock fully out of you before slamming into you again. It felt heavenly but a naughty thought came to your mind. You were probably going to get punished for it later, but you were feeling rebellious in the moment. When he slide his cock out, before he could enter you again, you got up and pushed him on the couch. Midair, Bakugou sensed what you were doing. So instead of being victorious and pining him down, he flipped you so that you were pined against the couch, your hands pined above your head.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he gets close to you. You giggle and look away playfully.

“Not playing by the rules,” you laughed. Bakugou couldn’t help but break a smile as well.

“Naughty, naughty. I’ll show you who’s the dominant one,” he said and smashed his cock back inside you, not giving you time to breath or adjust to him in this new position.

You could feel another wave coming and it was fast approaching. Bakugou was being even more vocal now, huffing and groaning into your neck. His hips rutted into you sloppier each second and more frantic. He was getting close too.

You whined loudly, not being able to hold onto anything as your orgasm hit you like a tsunami so you arched your back and fumbled with your legs. The clenching of your walls caused Bakugou to reach his limit. He pulled out, spraying his cum all over your stomach and chest. His hot cum felt sticky on your skin. Despite being covered in his specimen, Bakugou pulled you close to his sweaty body, your foreheads resting together while you both catch your breath.

You entered the gym with a smile and a skip to your walk. You got a little surprised when you saw that your trainer and new partner were inside the room before you. Puffing out a cheek in disappointment, you scold yourself for not leaving earlier. You were always early to get a good stretch in. But as soon as you saw your handsome trainer, a smile came back to your face.

You rushed to his side, jumping into his arms and giving him a kiss on the lips.

“Hi, baby!” you greeted him. He smiles back at you.

“Ready for your session?” he asks and you just give him a lovey dovey smile and a nod.

“Ah, this is one of my good friends. He’ll be your partner for today,” Bakugou sets you down to introduce you to yet another partner. The two toned hair guy gives you a shy wave.

“Todoroki. You can call me Shouto,” he introduces himself. Aw, he seems really sweet. Shy, but hopefully he’s not like that in bed. Todoroki leads to you the mat on the floor to get your session started. You glanced back at your trainer and give him a wink. He shakes his head at you but you didn’t miss that smile he was trying to hide. Because you know that he was going to make up for this session later tonight.

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou smut #bnha smut #bakugou birthday bash collab #ns//fw #mha smut #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bakugou imagines #bnha imagines

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totebagchiqbarista · 3 years

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can we have a chat noir x reader x ladybug where chat and lady are constantly trying to out due in battles each other for the reader’s attention, even in school with adrian and marionette

a loving feeling

Pairing: Adrien/Chat Noir, Marinette/Ladybug x GenderNeutral!Reader

Here's the first request I got! I literally love this idea so much oh my god. I hope you like it :)

“Adrien, dude, go talk to them. Now’s your chance!“ said Nino, reassuringly patting his best friend on the back. Adrien’s palms sweat just because of the thought of talking to them. It had been so long since he felt anything other than platonic love for somebody and was losing his mind. Adrien knew he wasn’t the only one who saw Y/N as potentially someone who was to be more than a friend. How could he be?

“Go! Now!“ Nino pushed him closer to the infatuating dream of his best friend. Disappearing in a split second he rebounded with his girlfriend.

Adrien made a few steps. It has seemed the person of his dreams was way too far away from him. Fear grew with each step and his heart was now beating in his throat, unable to catch a breath. Yes! They are so close! He can see them, just a bit more. He is already there, just hanging by the tip of a finger... And suddenly he was in a broom closet.

“Oh, Plagg I chickened out again“ Adrien cried, clenching his fists against the wall. The kwami flew around his head in an attempt to catch his gaze.

“Honestly Adrien, you could only talk to them when you were Cat Noir. But when you’re...well you, you lose your mind!“ he spoke “You see, cheese doesn’t do that to a person“

“You’re a kwami“

“My point still stands.“

Adrien banged his hair against the wall. It’s true, he could always talk to them when he was dressed in black. “I'm going to talk to them, today!”

“You go to the same class, you talk to them every day “ Plagg rolled his eyes, getting tired of the same old story his owner has been playing over and over

The blonde boy shook his head trying to talk to Plagg on a serious note “You know what I mean”

Upon entering the class, Marinette stumbled over her thoughts. She had decided she will talk to them today. She had no idea how, but she had put her mind to it. She is doing this.

"Hi, Marinette," said Y/N when they saw the bluenette deep in her thought.

Marinette's eyes widened in surprise, her breath hitching in her throat. She had to process what is happening before she could open her mouth.

"O-oh, hi, Y/N. Are you how? I mean, how you are?" she felt embarrassed by the inability to speak as she tried to collect herself "How are you?"

"I'm good, thanks. Do you want to sit next to me today? Nino and Alya sat together." they questioned, pointing to the couple in love, sat in the second row.

Marinette's face lit up in joy as she shook her head in approval "Yeah, I will". The two sat down in the first row, waiting for the class to start.

"So, Y/N, tell me, um do you- want to-" Blue-haired girl started as the duo collected their bags and headed towards the door. Y/N watched the girl carefully until she was interrupted by a loud cheer behind them.

They turned around, meeting eyes with a pair of green ones that lit under the blonde hair. "Hi, Adrien!" they waved in response.

Marinette's face reddened. It wasn't just because of the Adrien himself who too, made her blush a little. But it was because he could not have found the worse time to come by...

Her fingers twitched as she watched him smile sweetly and sly to the person she was just about to ask out. He had a kind, heart-warming smile on his face, and he was talking so softly to them. His fingers twirled in his blonde hair as he...

Marinette's face widened at the realization. The guy was stealing her date!

"Actually, we were talking you can come back by later" she interrupted blushing Adrien, taking Y/N's hand in hers and walking off. Without thinking, Adrien reached out, grabbing Y/N's hand. His fingers wrapped around their wrist. "Why can't I join you?" he blurted.

"Of course you can!" Y/N exclaimed

"No, you can't. Don't you have a fencing class to attend to?" Marinette fought back, crossing her hands on her chest.

"It got postponed"

"It never does"

"But today it has so I have an hour of free time"

Y/N watched as the two held a strong eye contact filled with rage and jealousy. Their bodies came closer and closer as they fought back and forth for their attention.

Suddenly, the door of the school burst open, shrieks fulfilling the building. A woman dressed in black entered, her ripped dress falling to the floor. Silver hair of hers flowed in the wind as she wrapped her fingers tighter around the machine in her hand. Two rat ears grew on the tip of her head and a tail that followed the theme.

She walked around, shooting every random passenger and turning them into...rats?

"We have to hide!" Y/N exclaimed as they took both of their hands, leading them into a classroom.

Marinette stuttered, ripping their hands apart even though that was the last thing she wanted to do. "I forgot my bag in the other classroom, I have to get that, it's important, you guys go hide now!"

Y/N nodded, running again, leaving Adrien to follow along. "Locker rooms! We can hide there" he said, grabbing them by the hand and running to the secure place in school.

"Chloe! Where are you Chloe!" the rat lady yelled, leading her way through the corridors of the Françoise Dupont High School. "Hide here," he said, showing them a safe place in one of the lockers.

"You too." They said pointing to the one across. Adrien only nodded in response and faking it once they were completely safe. The blonde's legs carried him to the bathroom by the speed of light.

Closing the door he took a moment to take a deep breath and rest his back against the wall. His kwami reappeared in front of his face, waiting for a word. Something. Anything.

"Don't you have a significant other to save, Adrien?"

Adrien got himself on his feet, away from the daydreams. Plagg was right, he did everything better when he was Chat Noir, so saving them should be as easy too. Maybe then he can finally talk to them without interruptions or his own fears.

The blonde nodded. "Plagg claws out!"

Although they knew they could be in danger, Y/N couldn't take being locked up in a locker anymore. She stepped out, only to be met by Adrian's open locker. The rat lady must have got to him.

"Stupid" they hummed to themselves as they looked around, figuring out what to do.

Suddenly, the door to the locker room opened and the infamous black cat costume appeared before them, taking their breath as always. "Well hello I guess we're stuck in danger together," he said flirty "Might as well make the most out of it" he bowed down before them.

"Poor kitty, and where's your lady?" They said, teasingly to the cat boy who so desperately tried to get under their skin.

"Said she will be right back."

And just on queue, the lady in red stormed into the room. Taking a look at Chat Noir once she sighed. "I'm sorry to do this, but it's important. Multimouse, I need you." She handed the already well-known miraculous box to them as they nodded in response.

It was safe to say Chat Noir was losing his mind. His eyes widened at the sudden information, as he stared at them in amazement. "You're Multimouse?!" he squeaked. Thinking back on the previous times Multimouse came to help and he did nothing but flirt with them. There was something that stood out about them and he never knew what. Now, it all made sense.

Then yet again, he wonders how whenever Multimous was around, Ladybug also got way more talkative and goofy and eager for their attention. He remembers all the fights over Multimouse he and the lady had led. It all came together now.

"Of course I am," they said, tying the necklace around their neck and meeting with Mullo, once again.

"I've missed you Y/N," Mullo said, happily flying around.

"I can say the same" they responded, ready to transform "Mullo, get squeaky!"

"Wow," both of the Paris' superheroes were smitten. Stealing a dirty look from each other for one last time they created a plan with Multimouse to defeat Ninkilia. As Ladybug said, she is completely sure the Akuma is in her hand machine.

"That's the plan, just follow my lead" she finished her speech

"As you wish my lady" Multimouse chimed in before Chat Noir could say anything. Ladybug's hot cheeks were prominent through her mask, and the cat looked nothing but jealous.

"R-right, let's go" the girl with spots exclaimed, her cheeks still burning red.

Jumping from the roof, Multimouse teased the villain. "A mouse? No!" Ninkilia yelled. "If you can live in the garbage now, why can't you do it in a form of a true rat itself" she cried as she shot around random people on the street.

"We have to get to her hand machine quickly," Chat Noir said fighting the lady in black. "And maybe then we can go somewhere just the two of us."

He winked at Multimouse who only laughed, and earned a look of pure hatred from Ladybug. Expecting a comment on his own behalf, Chat Noir was surprised by the lady's response. "You don't want to go with him trust me. I know the best ice cream in town."

Multimouse only laughed "Let's get rid of this rat lady first," they said "Multitude!"

"No, not the mice!" Ninkilia desperately tried shooting the little mice around her as they climbed up her legs. Ladybug's yoyo wrapped around her, pinning her to the ground.

"Chat Noir!" Ladybug exclaimed.

"Cataclysm"

The Akuma has been purified and the trio has once more, saved the day. "Pound it!"

"It has been a pleasure working with you" black cat smiled sheepishly, taking the mouse's hand and kissing it softly. "Will I have the pleasure of seeing you again soon?"

"We'll see," they said, signalizing Ladybug it's time to go.

Ladybug pulled them close, taking them by the waist and already feeling her heart beat faster. Multimouse, or precisely, Y/N placed their head in the crook of her neck and sent shivers down her spine. Soon, they were flying through the air, holding just by her yoyo.

"Thank you for choosing me," they said, as they scootched closer to her body, clinging in fear of falling down.

"How could I not?"

Marinette's heartbeat raced faster as they shared a soft smile. If it were up to her, she would like to fight alongside them all the time.

#miraculous marinette #miraculous ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #chat noir #chat noir x reader #marinette x reader #ladybug x reader #miraculoustalesofladybugandcatnoir #adrien x reader #mlb #mlb adrien #plagg #tikki #mullo #imagine #one-shot #fanfiction #miraculous

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yumeyooa · 3 years

Text

revenge is brutally sweet | jeon jungkook

—jeon jungkook’s life so far has been going well. he’s the guitarist of the most famous band in the scene, he’s got the girl of his dreams, and everything he’s ever wished for is in the palm of his hands. what he doesn’t expect though, is to wake up one day in the middle of a controversy. what the controversy is, you may ask? a new band has been hitting the charts, and their lead singer is none other than you, a former member of the band and his ex-girlfriend.

➢ pairing: jeon jungkook x female! reader

➢ word count: 14.6k+

➢ love letter: AH SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG T_T I kinda drowned in midterms AHSHSHs but I hope you enjoy this fic <33 there’s more to this angsty collection to come so stay tuned!!

navigation | collection masterlist

Life couldn’t be any better.

This is what Jeon Jungkook constantly told himself every morning after his short, fifteen-minute shower while messily tousling his hair in an extra-soft towel as he takes in the dreary yet somehow vibrant view from his penthouse apartment, soaking in the sun’s rays.

The city was busy, even though the sun had just risen and bloomed into full glory. The streets were filled with people rushing to get wherever they needed to be, cars driving past with the fervor of a shackled mad man on wheels. If Jungkook looked closer, he would have probably seen the black exhaust drifting in the air from the fumes of those ecologically damaging vehicles or the frantic looks on an office worker’s face as they hurriedly crossed the street obviously late for work.

But alas, Jungkook couldn’t care less about the trials and tribulations of some strangers he didn’t even know. After all, his life was going great. In fact, he was literally walking on cloud nine at this point and felt like nothing had stopped him.

Of course, it wasn’t always this way, which was why Jungkook appreciated his success tenfold.

He, like every other success story, had started from the ground up. Music was something he had always dreamed of doing for the rest of his life. Ever since his grandfather had first shown him how to play the guitar, the melodies had wrapped their whimsical tunes around his heart and made themselves stay. It was fascinating to him how playing a couple of strings could produce such music that could move souls and bring smiles to people’s faces.

And ever since then, he was hooked. Every chance he got, he would play the guitar even if his parents tried to pry him off it.

They wanted him to be a doctor after all, and there was no way in hell he was going to go by their wishes. While being a doctor was great, it didn’t ignite the same spark that music did, and for Jungkook, he would rather die than live a life without his flame running ablaze.

So, against his parent’s wishes, he pursued a career in music. It wasn’t easy, of course. At first, he had no support system for his dream. His friends and teachers ridiculed and discouraged him, saying that the future was bleak and he had no hopes of making it big. But if Jungkook knew anything about himself, it would most likely have to do with the fact that he was extremely stubborn and persistent, much to the disappointment of the adults in his life.

So he continued. He continued reaching his dreams, joining every music-related activity he could at his age until he finally met Mr. Park.

Mr. Park was a bright man who came in one day as a replacement for their music teacher, who was an old lady who stuck to the classics and had a somewhat deceiving grading system. He came into class with disheveled hair, an unkempt tie, and when he turned around to write his name on the board, the whole class laughed as they could see his heart print underpants peeking through.

But despite his clumsiness and seemingly carefree nature, Mr. Park was a master at his craft. He was the epitome of what a music teacher should be; exceptionally skilled, eloquent, and passionate about what he did. But Mr. Park had another talent that not many knew about, which was the eye for potential.

And Mr. Park saw potential in Jungkook.

He had taken Jungkook under his wing and taught him the ropes of music life. The keys of the piano, how notes were read, how symphonies were made. And the more Jungkook learned, the more he yearned for a life surrounding music. When he voiced his wishes to Mr. Park, expecting to receive the same rejection he had always known, he was pleasantly surprised to find out that he had his support.

Mr. Park was the very first person who saw that Jungkook could have a future in music. He was the very first person who showed Jungkook that there was a path for him to take that was far better than the path his parents laid out for him. A rocky path filled with trials and tribulations but ultimately reaped great rewards in the end.

Like a moth drawn to its flame, Jungkook was attracted to the seemingly devastating path because somehow, amid the darkness, there was hope. Hope for a happier future, a future that wasn’t filled with regret and mourning but full of triumph and satisfaction. Jungkook would be a fool not to pursue the latter.

And thus, in hopes of finally seeing the light, Jungkook decided to start his own band.

It didn’t start off right away, though. After all, no kid at his school wanted to be part of a band that, in the eyes of their parents, was a complete waste of time. Jungkook kept his small dream hidden deep within his heart, yet even so, it still burned with an unyielding passion. Even if years passed and no opportunity for him to start a band was in sight, Jungkook didn’t give up, knowing that his persistence would one day reap great rewards.

And finally, his chance came in the form of you.

From the very beginning, Jungkook had always thought you were strange. In a prestigious school known for being the epitome of perfection and class, you were the odd one out, sticking out like a sore thumb with your disheveled appearance and undignified manner of carrying yourself. Almost immediately, you were set to be the outcast, ridiculed by your peers for your looks and mannerisms, even if, in Jungkook’s opinion, you weren’t doing anything out of the ordinary.

Unfortunately, the world is never kind to those who are different.

Jungkook’s phone rings from where it is laid on his bedside table, the alarm blaring loudly, causing a shift in the once serene atmosphere of his apartment. Jungkook pays it no mind at first, choosing to finish drying his hair before finally picking up the phone, voice groggy and slightly annoyed from having his peaceful morning interrupted.

“Who is it?” He hastily asks, not meaning to sound as harsh. But could he really be blamed when it was 7 AM in the morning, and he wasn’t expected to show up to any scheduled event until noon?

“Jungkook!” An exasperated voice exclaims from the other side of his phone. It was Namjoon, his manager, Jungkook, quickly concludes. Although it was rare for him to call so early in the morning, especially in such a panicked state. Perhaps he forgot to inform him of a schedule? Although that was annoying, Jungkook wouldn’t really mind. After all, work made money. But if that were the case, it would have been odd for Namjoon to be so panicked about it. The man was known for being reasonably level-headed even in times of extreme stress, so perhaps it was something else entirely.

“Did you read the news?” Namjoon quickly adds before Jungkook could ask what was wrong. At his question, Jungkook’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, quickly sitting down on the side of his bed and grabbing his iPad from the same bedside desk, unplugging the charger along the way.

“No,” he says as he types up the password into the Home Screen, laying his phone in between the juncture of his shoulder and ear. “Is there something I should be concerned about? I mean, it’s not like I got into a scandal or anything, right?”

Wrong.

Well, partly.

The moment Jungkook opens his Twitter, he’s surprised to see more notifications than usual. Of course, it was a given for him to have a ghastly amount of notifications as a celebrity. He did have a large fan base, after all. But the numbers on his screen far exceeded that of what he was used to, and amongst those notifications tagging his account, one article stood out amongst the rest, and the headline made his blood run cold.

“What the fuck?” He whispers, staring at the article in shock as if he couldn’t believe his eyes. “Am I seeing this right, Namjoon?”

The man on the other side of the phone is silent for a while before Jungkook hears a sigh. “Unfortunately, yes,” Namjoon says, and Jungkook can almost imagine the way he’s probably rubbing his temples together while sipping his cup of black coffee in his office out of stress and frustration

“(Y/N) is back,” he says, causing shivers to run down Jungkook’s spine. “And apparently Jungkook, she wrote a song about you.”

The day Jungkook finally mustered up the courage to talk to you for the first time was an experience, to say the least. For what felt like years, albeit it was only a few days, Jungkook had been observing you from the sidelines, watching as you were berated by his classmates, who apparently had nothing better to do with their time.

A part of Jungkook always felt guilty for never standing up for you. He knew you needed a friend. Someone to confide in this hellish school that made it seem as if it were every man for himself. But he was a coward, raised and molded to never take a step outside the boundaries he had set for himself, like a doll.

Although, with Mr. Park's influence, Jungkook could finally break free from his shell, even if it were just a mere few steps.

"Here," he says nervously, handing you a carton of banana milk that he had picked up from the nearest vending machine the moment he saw you storm out of the classroom in tears. Even then, your classmates had laughed, mocking how sensitive you were, which disgusted Jungkook. Didn't they have any ounce of shame for making a person cry like that?

You look up from where you sat on the school's staircase, eyes puffy from crying so hard, a stream of tears still flowing down your face. You looked like an absolute mess, and the sight only caused Jungkook's heart to clench even more. He sat beside you, albeit a bit distanced because he couldn't help but feel awkward. This was your first conversation, after all.

You stare at him, not entirely understanding why he would extend kindness towards you. Was this a trick of fate? Was he doing this so you would someday do his bidding in the future? The kids of this school were scary, even scarier than the monsters that hid underneath your bed or the creatures that roamed around in the dead of night. Even amidst the light, they scared you, and you were terrified that the man offering you some banana milk would be just the same.

"You don't have to take it if you don't want to," Jungkook says, after realizing you were staring at him warily, cautious over whether or not you would accept his gift. "Sweets always cheered me up whenever I feel down, and I thought maybe it would cheer you up too!"

If anyone were to see your interaction, they would have burst out laughing from how awkward it was. You who were wary and cautious, and Jungkook who was awkward and shy. A stark difference between your usual timid behavior and Jungkook's confident act. In fact, if anyone else were to see this, they would have never believed their eyes.

It was odd, after all. And you knew this very well. Which was why you were so confused at Jungkook's behavior. Why was he approaching you so kindly when everyone else ridiculed and shunned you out? You were different, someone who didn't deserve to be there. An imposter, an intruder. It didn't make sense for him to act friendly.

"Don't take this the wrong way," Jungkook continues, setting down the banana milk in the space between the two of you as he fiddled with his fingers, a habit he had picked up over time. "I'm not doing this to mock you or make fun of you later down the line… I just really don't like the way they're treating you. It's not right."

You're stunned. Rightfully so. This was the first time someone had ever gone against what others did to you, despite him doing so behind the scenes. A weird sensation bubbles up from inside you, one you can't quite place. But what you do know is that amidst it all, there's warmth. Jungkook's words sounded genuine and sincere, not like the usual condescending tone you were used to hearing from the rest of your peers.

He genuinely seemed to care.

Jungkook's eyes widen in surprise when he sees you grab the carton of banana milk, opening the straw in pushing it through, taking a sip. You sheepishly stare down, not even bothering to look Jungkook in the eye before muttering. "I prefer strawberry milk… but this isn't that bad... I guess… Thanks…"

His eyes gleam, happy that you've accepted his offering and watching with a content smile as a small smile of your own forms on your lips, a far cry from the mess you were mere moments ago. He had somehow managed to cheer you up, and that was better than anything Jungkook could ever ask for.

"No problem. Next time I'll buy you a whole box of strawberry milk!" He exclaims, excited for what was about to unfold between the two of you.

But he would have never expected this.

And on this week's celebrity news: Former Vocalist of The 97, (L/N) (Y/N) debuts solo with her new single 'Move On', which fans speculate is a direct message to her ex-boyfriend and former bandmate Jeon Jungkook.

"Fuck!" Jungkook exclaims, overcome with emotion, as he watches the news unfold in the conference room of his label. He had quickly made his way over the moment he saw the headline, confused, devastated, and most of all angry.

What in the world were you thinking, dragging him down like that?

"Jungkook, calm down," Namjoon says from the other side of the room, trying to prevent Jungkook from destroying the room. Jungkook was strong. And if he really wanted to, he could turn the whole conference room upside down in a blink of an eye, and Namjoon really didn't want to deal with whatever consequence would follow should Jungkook actually decide that he'd destroy the conference room.

"How the fuck do you expect me to be calm, Namjoon?" Jungkook asks, exasperated as he walks from one end of the room to the other. "This is going to ruin my fucking reputation. And it's all because that bitch is too bitter about our breakup that she decided to fucking write a song about it."

"Hey." Another voice calls out, stern and ready to scold. Jaehyun, the band's bassist, glares at Jungkook with as much disdain as he could muster, not believing the words that came out of Jungkook's mouth. "No matter how you feel about the situation. I'm not going to stand by and let you call (Y/N) a bitch. She was and still is our friend. Just because you're so caught up in your perfect reputation doesn't mean you have to bring others down in the process, Jeon."

It was rare for Jaehyun to ever call Jungkook by his last name. The two were as close as could be, having been the best of friends for more than ten years and counting. Jungkook knew he could trust Jaehyun with his life and vice versa, so it shocked him to hear that his best friend was defending her.

"But Jungkook has every reason to be mad, Jaehyun!" Another voice pops up, this time a more feminine one that has Jungkook's heart-melting just a bit. Eunha, his current girlfriend, and the one who was there for him when you left him. She was the band's current vocalist, and Jungkook couldn't feel any more grateful to have someone as supportive as her in his life.

"She's using a personal situation to make her more popular, all the while bringing us down in the process! There's nothing else to call her but a bitch when she's hurting the band she started with! Is that how she says thank you when the band's been nothing but good to her?

It's incredible, Jungkook thinks to himself, how he was able to find someone like Eunha. She was the most compassionate and understanding person in the world, a far cry from what you had become. Bitter, selfish, and downright ungrateful. You probably wrote that song out of spite just to get back at him when he did nothing wrong in the first place. You were crazy, and he was glad Eunha allowed him to see through all of your lies.

"Shut the fuck up, will you?" Jungkook's eyes darted in surprise to Yugyeom, the band's drummer, who had just cursed at his girlfriend. He glares at the drummer, mad at the fact that the usual happy-go-lucky man was now acting bitter in front of his girlfriend, who had done nothing wrong. Were his bandmates woven that deep within your cruel lies?

"Excuse me, what did you just say?" Eunha asks, appalled, tears forming from the corners of her eyes, which only causes the anger within Jungkook to grow. How dare they. How dare they make Eunha cry when she was doing nothing but telling the truth?

"You heard me, Eunha," Yugyeom continues, paying no mind to the burning rage that was about to burst within Jungkook. "I said shut the fuck up. So what if (Y/N) wrote a song about Jungkook? Why does it matter? She has every right to. I mean, our next single is literally a song Jungkook wrote after the breakup, so why the fuck are you berating her for doing the same?"

"Because she's hurting our reputation!" Eunha exclaims, clearly frustrated at how Yugyeom and Jaehyun weren't getting her point. "And besides, she was the one in the wrong during the breakup. What right does she have to make a song about it?"

Jaehyun scoffs, glare intensifying, causing Jungkook to clench his fist at their hostility. "And how do you know that when you only heard Jungkook's side of the story and not (Y/N) 's? For all we know, Jungkook could also be in the wro—"

Before Jaehyun could finish his sentence, Jungkook explodes, immediately rushing over to where Jaehyun sat and grabbing him by the collar, causing the rest of the band and Namjoon to panic, trying to break them apart, while Eunha watches, scared.

"You motherfucker," Jungkook curses, hand raised into a fist, ready to punch Jaehyun in the face with all the force he could muster. But before he could do so, Namjoon and Yugyeom immediately held him back, causing Jaehyun to let out shaky breaths as he glared at Jungkook, hurt, confused, and angry. "Why are you defending her? She was the one who hurt me! You're supposed to be my fucking best friend!"

"Maybe if you actually listened to what she had to say and what she was going through, then we wouldn't be in this situation in the first place," Jaehyun screamed back, anger slowly growing as each moment passed by. "You've always been like this Jungkook, self-centered and fucking mean. (Y/N) was right for wanting to leave."

"What did you say, you fucki—"

"Enough!" Namjoon screams, holding his ground. This had gotten out of hand, and it was beginning to stress him out, and clearly, that same stress was spreading through every single person in the room. This wasn't even supposed to be that big of a deal. All they were supposed to do was listen to the song you wrote, and come up with a statement, So why the hell did this turn into a full-blown fight?

Gosh, Namjoon needed a raise.

"Jeon Jungkook calm the fuck down, or I'll have you on probation, you hear? The same goes for all of you. I don't want to hear any bullshit about who's right or wrong in the relationship. All I need is for us to listen to the song and figure out what we're going to tell the higher-ups. So stop acting like you're a bunch of teenagers and sit down."

Usually, Namjoon wasn't this scary. But there was a glint in his eyes that taunted the band. And they knew that in the heat of the moment, the best thing to do was to shut up and listen. Besides, he was right. The way they were going, no progress would have been made, leading to further complications. With a huff, Jungkook sits down, staring grumpily into space. He wasn't comfortable with what had just occurred, a frenzy of emotions bottling up inside him from the outburst.

Luckily for him, Eunha was quick to hold his hand into hers, soothing him enough to calm his nerves and mentally prepare himself for what was about to unfold. Because he knew he wasn't going to like it.

And true to his words, the moment Namjoon pressed play, he didn't like it. Not one bit.

Jungkook couldn't quite pin why your song made his blood boil and heart clench. From an outsider's perspective, it was a good song. A really good song. As a musician himself, Jungkook would never deny that. You had a knack for creating some really great tunes that were out of this world, after all. It was the very thing that made him ask you to start a band with him in the first place.

But there was just something about this piece in particular that seemed different. Your very aura was different, Jungkook concluded as he watched the video, listening to the way you screamed about how good it was that he was able to move on while you haven't. How you laced memories and fragments of your relationship and expertly wove them together to create a masterpiece that echoed into the very depths of his beating heart.

It left a bitter taste in his mouth. Because amidst the chaos, you looked free.

There was something beautiful about the way you were in the middle of a room up in flames, almost to the point where Jungkook knew that it was metaphorical. You liked metaphors. Jungkook remembers how long ago, when the band was just the two of you, you mentioned how metaphors brought out the beauty of the world. They made the ordinary extraordinary. They made the dull come to life. Metaphors were beauty itself, and that's precisely why you loved to play with them so much.

It's funny to see how that part of you hadn't changed, even after how many years.

"Jungkook?" Eunha calls out to him, a concerned look gracing over her face. "You okay?"

Honestly speaking, Jungkook didn't know. The high of his anger had finally settled, and all Jungkook felt was a burning numbness scouring through his veins. It's laughable how mere hours ago, Jungkook was sure that today would be another great day to celebrate how amazing his life was. Yet, here he is, in the middle of a conference room, watching as you submerged yourself underwater at the last scene of your music video, feeling empty.

He doesn't directly answer Eunha, afraid that if he were to say anything, unwanted words would slip from his lips, and he would unleash another round of chaos and hell. And he was too mentally exhausted to go through that again. So he merely nods, clasping Eunha's hand gently and sighing as Namjoon pauses the video, turning towards the group.

"Well," Namjoon says, surveying the room to see the band's reactions. But who was he kidding? He knew damn well that the band wasn't nearly overjoyed seeing and hearing what their old friend had to say, especially Jungkook. The poor kid looked lost. "That's that. It looks too vague to be considered a song catered to Jungkook, so I'll inform the higher-ups that it has nothing to do wi--"

Suddenly, Jungkook stands up, causing a deafening silence to befall once more as everyone watches him with cautious eyes, afraid of what he was about to do.

"I'm going to get a drink," is all he says, moving to head out the door. No one really says anything in protest, Yugyeom and Jaehyun still feeling the aftermath of the previous fight. Only Eunha seemed to be visibly bothered, scoffing at the rest of the team's reactions before quickly latching on to Jungkook's arm.

"Babe, it's still early in the morning. At least let me accompany you?" She asks, that hopeful glint burning brightly in her eyes, to the point that it makes Jaehyun recline back in his seat uncomfortably, not liking the way she seemed so unnatural. You were never like that. And while Jaehyun knew it was wrong to make comparisons, he couldn't help it.

You were his best friend just as much as Jungkook was.

"I'll go alone," is all Jungkook whispers, shrugging Eunha off who is about to protest, but Namjoon is quick to shut her up with a gentle hand on her shoulder, shaking his head when she tries to chase after him. Jungkook needed to settle down and sort his thoughts through if he ever wanted a chance at getting through this situation with you.

And maybe, just maybe, he could finally make amends.

“Do you have a dream?”

This was the question that started it all, Jungkook supposed. He remembers the very day you asked him that one decisive question that, looking back, changed both of your lives. For good or for worse, Jungkook wasn’t sure. But as he reminisces the memories of the past and tries to figure out where everything went wrong, he couldn’t help the gut-wrenching feeling that settles within him. It’s so upsetting, in fact, that the moment Jungkook arrives in the pub across the street, he immediately drowns himself in a bottle of soju.

The two of you were spending the lunch break in the empty stairwell, the same place where the two of you first met and the same place where the two of you gradually started to hang out. It was a quiet space, free from the condescending eyes of the perfection-seeking kids you called classmates. It was a space where you and Jungkook could be free, even for just a little while.

Sipping on his banana milk, Jungkook looks at you curiously. You were staring at the strawberry milk he had bought you, fiddling with it nervously, not even bothering to look him in the eye. He wonders what goes on through your mind, what thoughts dance around within its hollow crevices, shaking you up and causing you to become a nervous wreck. Especially when the question wasn’t as bad as you were probably thinking.

“Hmm, do you want the honest answer or the answer everyone wants to hear?” He asks back, looking up at the ceiling. For an elite school, they didn’t do well to maintain the more hidden areas. Was that a sign that they really didn’t care about things that weren’t relevant to them? Maybe. Maybe not. Jungkook didn’t particularly care. It was just more bearable t stare at the ceiling than sit in awkward silence,

“Honest,” you say after a few moments, much more confident than a few moments ago. After hanging out with you for a few months and observing you within the silence of your conversations, Jungkook somehow knows that no matter what he’d do, you would forever be shy. Regardless if you knew someone well or not, the first moments of conversation would always be parallel to a first meeting. It was a curious thing, honestly. But it was more intriguing once he realized that your confidence grew the more you spoke.

In a way, it was kind of cute.

“I wanna make music,” Jungkook says after snapping himself out of his trance. He once again averts his gaze from yours, but this time it wasn’t to avoid silence, but rather to think, to immerse himself in his thoughts. Because this was the first time, someone had asked him what he truly wanted to do with life. The first time someone wanted an honest answer from him, not a polished response set up to please his parents and peers.

“Not the classical kind, though,” he continues, smiling softly to himself. “Not really fond of it as much as you think.” From the corner of his eyes, Jungkook can see you gaping at him in surprise, and it causes him to chuckle. You were never really expressive beyond the weary walls of the seemingly abandoned stairwell. To the rest of the student body, you were expressionless. Someone who took all the beatings and ridicules with a blank face. As if you were a doll, waiting to be ruined.

But here, you were much more alive. Much more expressive than Jungkook was used to seeing. It was as if the (Y/N) beyond the worn steps of the stairwell was an entirely different person. A mask you placed upon yourself to protect your heart from the cruel reality you had come to face. And Jungkook was more than fascinated at the fact that you had brought that mask down for him.

“If I could, I’d do rock, maybe even some metal If I got enough courage,” he continues, smiling to himself unknowingly giddy at the sight of you. “There’s just something different about it, you know? The music runs through your system and gets you all hyped up; you just can’t resist it. And when the beat drops, it’s as if your emotions are on an all-time high, and it weirdly makes you kind of free. It made me realize that this was what music was supposed to be, I guess.”

“Wow,” you mutter, after staying within the silence of your initial awe. “That’s... poetic.” Jungkook laughs at the look of disbelief in his face, shooting his empty carton of banana milk in the air and watching in satisfaction as it lands straight into the empty trash can just right down the corner before turning to you, a grin high on his lips.

“Oh, come on,” he whines, rolling his eyes playfully. “Why do you sound so surprised? Do I not look like I’d be a good musician?”

“It’s not that!” You quickly exclaim in your defense, flailing your arms in the air to avert Jungkook’s thoughts about the situation. Unbeknownst to you, Jungkook was only joking, highly amused at your reactions, wanting to see more. “I just assumed you’d be more into sports, you know, since you’re so good at it? If you ask me, you kind of look like you’d do well in either football or basketball… so I just kind of assumed that was what you wanted to actually pursue. Not that wanting to pursue music is a bad thing! It’s great, it’s just that rock is kind of unexpected....”

You were beginning to ramble at this point, the shy sheep from within you bursting forth as you fiddled with your thumbs nervously, anxious to see Jungkook’s reaction. Would he be mad at you for assuming things about him off the bat? Probably not, right? You did initiate the conversation by asking him what his dream was, after all. Wait, maybe this was your fault. Gosh, you should have just asked any other question that wasn’t as deep.

This friendship thing was too difficult for your liking.

As you bury yourself in your thoughts, Jungkook couldn’t help but let out a chuckle. It was small at first, almost going unheard by you who was so deeply consumed by the matters of your mind, but the more Jungkook laughed, the louder he got until he was full-on cackling, much to your dismay, confusion, and shock.

“What’s so funny?” You ask frantically, trying to make sense of his actions. Did you say something wrong? As far as you knew, you hadn’t, but what if you had and accidentally crossed the line? You hoped not. You really didn’t want to screw any chance you had at having a real, genuine friend. But to your dismay, your questions remain unanswered as Jungkook continues to laugh, almost as if he wasn’t planning on stopping anytime soon.

“Hey!” You exclaim, pouting. “Stop laughing at me, Jungkook!”

“I-i’m sorry,” He says after a few more laughs, trying to wipe the tears that were beginning to form in his eyes. “I couldn’t help it,” He laughs again, although this time, it seems as if he’s calmed down, sporting a cheeky smile. “Your reactions are just something else!”

Jungkook watches as you become flustered, once more, much to his fascination and amusement. He’s never been the teasing type, or more like, he’s never had the opportunity to become the teasing type, especially with the perfect image he had to curate in front of his peers. But he liked this. He liked being friends with you. It made him all the more free.

“What about you?” He suddenly asks after a while, feeling that it was high time to cut you some slack. You look up at him in confusion as if you had entirely forgotten why this entire conversation had happened in the first place. “Do you have a dream?”

It’s silent, yet this time, Jungkook notes, the silence is uncanny. It’s not the same comfortable silence that Jungkook is used to whenever he was hanging out with you. It was as if the silence had suddenly crashed down and enveloped the cheery atmosphere in its deceitful arms. A trap, if you will.

And Jungkook was unsure whether he wanted to break free from it or stay there with you.

But you take the first step, finally looking up to meet him in the eyes, and Jungkook can feel his heart sink just a tad bit from how empty and solemn they were. “I don’t think so,” is all you say, brushing off the concerned look on Jungkook’s face with a smile. “I’ve never really given it much thought. That’s why I asked,” you chuckle halfheartedly, staring up at the ceiling. “Although I think it would be nice,” you say, smiling a bit more genuinely. “You know, to have a dream?”

Jungkook doesn’t know what to say. How was he supposed to react to that, anyway? No matter how difficult his life was, he had always had a dream. It kept him going, made him push through no matter the difficulty. Dreams were the driving force of life. The hope amidst the darkness. To not have a dream, even just a small one, rattled Jungkook.

It terrified him because now Jungkook realized that he knew nothing about you despite you being his first friend. He didn’t know the reason why you decided to become a living doll in the eyes of others. He didn’t understand why you subjected yourself to such suffering when, from the small talks you and Jungkook had with each other, you seemed to have a loving family.

He wanted to help you, to be there for you. Because he wasn’t sure whether or not you were actually feeling lost. That’s what friends were for, right? Jungkook wasn’t exactly sure on how to do this whole friendship thing, but if there was one thing he did know, it was the fact that friends helped each other.

And Jungkook would be damned if he couldn’t help you in any way that he could.

Soju bottles littered the lone table that Jungkook sat upon. At this point, he wasn’t sure how many bottles he had drunk, but it sure was many, more than he could handle if he were, to be honest, but amidst his drunken state, he just couldn’t find it in himself to care.

Why was he acting like this anyway?

He was supposed to be happy. His band was one of the most successful ones out there. He had thousands, if not millions of fans, who supported him in everything he did. So why, just why was this insignificant matter affecting him so greatly?

Was it because it was you?

“Dear, are you alright?” The old woman, running the pub asks, concerned as she sets down a piping hot bowl of warm hangover soup, which has Jungkook’s mouth watering to the point where drool almost seeps out, mainly because he only had a bite of a sandwich on his way to the office which Eunha forcibly made him eat. But even so, he couldn’t bring himself to eat, especially with the array of emotions that were burning deep within him. “Do you need me to call someone for you?”

Jungkook stays silent, not even bothering to respond to the old lady, who only grows wearier at the lack of response. He didn’t mean to be rude. It was just that he couldn’t find the strength to actually do anything but wallow in his own misery. His thoughts were going on haywire, with no place to land in sight.

What had he done to deserve this? He was sure he had done nothing wrong, so why were you doing this to him when all he had done was, be nothing but nice to you? He had supported you ever since the beginning, and this was how you repaid him?

He doesn’t notice how the old lady leaves to call someone from the company, despite him not saying anything. It was probably for the best anyway. He was too out of it to even ask for help. The old lady was right and kind for going out of her way to do this for him. Although it made sense, after all, this specific pub was where Jungkook had been drinking ever since he had reached adulthood.

Maybe she would call Namjoon? It was likely, but Jungkook hoped not. He was sure that if Namjoon were to see his sorry state, he would scold him until his ears bled out. Although he couldn’t really blame Namjoon, if any manager were to see their client drinking away their woes like he was, they would probably freak out. Primarily since he was known for drinking at most two bottles. Jungkook just really didn’t want to deal with Namjoon right now, especially after what had transpired earlier.

He hoped that she would call Eunha. Sweet, loveable Eunha, who was there for him when the shitshow that was his breakup with you went down. Even until now, Jungkook was still in the dark of why you had left him and the band, but Eunha was the one who stayed by his side. Ever since he had met her two years ago when she first entered the company, they had become the best of friends. And now she was his girlfriend, and he couldn’t be happier.

All of a sudden, a familiar voice wafts through the empty pub. One that has Jungkook’s head whipping everywhere it could to figure out where it was coming from. It was sweet, melodic even. But at the same time, it had a hint of melancholy and freedom? Why was the voice so familiar? Where had he heard it before?

Jungkook’s eyes darted around, trying to see if he could spot the culprit behind his dilemma until they finally landed on the wide TV that sat in the middle of the pub, presumably for their customer’s enjoyment. And lo and behold, in his eyes, he sees you.

It was a local music show where famous stars would often find themselves performing to promote their new music. He assumed you were there to perform your new single, the one song that had him sitting here broken and destroyed with pride in your chest. Did you enjoy this?

Did you enjoy knowing that he was broken because of you?

He hated it. He hated how bright your smile was the moment he caught sight of the camera focusing on you as the hosts began their interview. You were brilliant, cheery, happy. And it sickened Jungkook to the core. Why did it seem like you were doing fine when he was here all bothered? How selfish could you possibly be?

But as much as it hurts him, he can’t find it in himself to look away. It’s a strange sensation that Jungkook couldn’t quite explain. Why couldn’t he avert his eyes from you when all he’s been feeling today was pain? It didn’t make sense. But honestly, Jungkook couldn’t tell what made sense anymore.

He watches you sing, hearing those blasted lyrics that made him rage just mere moments ago. Yet, this time, the lyrics made his heart clench. Perhaps it was the fact that your performance seemed more genuine because you were singing live. But why? Why were you singing those lyrics as if they had genuinely happened to you? Jungkook never caused you any pain, so why did it seem as if you were hurting more than him?

The thoughts were too much. It was driving Jungkook crazy, and all he wanted to do was drown in them. He didn’t want to think. Thinking heightened the pain that brimmed deep within his chest. He just wanted to float in the ocean of his misery and stay there, hoping that someday he would land ashore and the pain would come to an end.

Maybe if he took one more shot, it would help?

He pours down the last remaining soju into his shot glass, not caring if it overflowed and spilled out on the table. Rationality was far out of his mind at this point. All Jungkook wanted to do was do anything that would make him feel numb.

He raises the glass shakily, ready to feel the burning sensation of the alcohol run down his throat, that temporary relief that made him sink deep down into this endless cycle of emptiness. Yet, it doesn’t happen.

A hand shoots down to stop his wrist. It’s a familiar yet unfamiliar hold, something Jungkook can’t quite place. Where has he felt this hold before? He looks up, his eyesight a bit blurry from his drunken state, so he squints, trying to see clearly.

Who was it? Namjoon? Eunha? Heck, Jaehyun?

Turns out it was none of them.

When his sight finally clears, he gasps in shock, breath hitching in his throat as he takes it all in. Because the person, whose hold was familiar yet unfamiliar at the same time, wasn’t his manager, nor was it his girlfriend or best friend.

It was you.

The person, the old lady, had called to get him was you.

Well, Jungkook be damned.

When you got the call from the old lady, you were on your way to your new studio after finishing up a schedule you had prior. The past few weeks have been busy for you. Leaving the band and Jungkook was no easy feat. It was a decision that you knew was a high-risk, high reward yet at the same time had higher chances of failure.

After all, even if you hated to admit it. Without the band, you had nothing.

Sure, there was the fame that came with all of the band’s success. You were the vocalist, after all. It was exhilarating knowing that millions out there would be listening to your voice, singing music you created with people you loved dearly. But in the midst of all of that, there was nothing.

Jungkook, Jaehyun, and Yugyeom had everything going on for them. A backup plan in case the band didn’t succeed. A plan B, if you will. It made sense. They had privilege dripping from the palms of their hand, after all. Even if they had their own troubles and doubts, they didn’t have to worry about finding another way out because there already was a path laid out for them in the beginning.

You went into all of this, risking everything.

It was a choice that you had seemingly made on impulse if an outsider were to look back at the situation. When Jungkook had asked you to start a band with him, it was during another one of your many lunch dates, as you two had jokingly called it. Only this time, the two of you weren’t sitting on the cold and empty stairwell, but instead, you were in the old music room.

“I can’t believe this,” Jungkook mumbles to himself as he cranks the rusted door of the old music room open. People barely used it nowadays, much to his disbelief yet relief at the same time. He couldn’t blame them though, the brand new music room was much more enchanting, filled with top-of-the-grade musical instruments than anyone would drool over.

Well, at least it meant that he could have autonomy over the room (even though that wasn’t really the case). “You’re telling me that you never heard rock or metal before?” He gapes in disbelief as he sits on one of the dusty desks, looking at you with an outraged expression. You sheepishly enter behind him, taking a sip of your drink as you took a seat beside him.

“You never asked,” is all you say, shrugging. Jungkook looks at you once more incredulously, as if he couldn’t believe his eyes and ears. “That’s because I assumed you would have known what rock and metal are! They’re like the greatest music genres of all time. How can you not know it?”

You shrug once more, not really having an answer. Well, you did, but it was probably stupid. After all, if this was his reaction to you not knowing about rock and metal. What would his response be if he were to find out that the only music you’d ever listened to was classical and nursery rhymes? Yeah, probably not a good idea.

“Well, get ready then,” he exclaims, bringing out his phone, much to your surprise. Model student and Mr. Perfect Jeon Jungkook breaking a school rule? Who would have thought that you’d ever lived to see the day? “Because you’re about to experience an awakening, I tell you. A revolution!”

It’s amusing, really. You had never seen Jungkook as passionate as he was at the moment. Was this what it was like to have a dream? His eyes lit up as if sparkles were floating around him. As if he were about to step on cloud nine and enter paradise. He was bouncing his leg lightly in excitement, a goofy smile on his face that kind of reminded you of a bunny.

Maybe having a dream wouldn’t be so bad, after all.

He immediately scoots over to you once he has his phone ready, grabbing his earphones and plugging it into his phone, handing you the other ear. You hold it, a small smile on your face, and hook it unto your ear, not really knowing what to expect but excited all the same. After all, this was the music that made your best friend passionate and hopeful for the future. For sure, it wouldn’t be bad, right?

Well, to say the least, it was an experience. An experience you couldn’t quite tell if you enjoyed or couldn’t fathom. It was entirely different from the music that you were used to. From the bright and soothing tones came ones that were heavy and thundered on your ears. Yet, in a way, it was exhilarating.

You could see why Jungkook was attracted to this style of music. In a way, it was unhinged, a little more rebellious than the traditional types of music you were used to. But that didn’t mean it was worse. In fact, that’s what made it more exciting. Jungkook was right. In those few minutes that he had introduced you to the world of rock, you’ve gone through an array of emotions, from confusion to thrill and excitement of the highest level. The rollercoaster of new sensations was, to say the least, intoxicating,

Because immediately you got hooked.

“Wow,” you mutter, looking up at Jungkook, who was looking back at you with lively eyes. “That was… something else.”

“Right?!” He exclaims, immediately jumping off the desk to grasp your hands in excitement; it was endearing to see. Jungkook rarely got riled up like this. Music truly brought out the best in him, you thought to yourself, watching as he continued to dangle your hands in his. “Isn’t rock just amazing? Oh, what I’d do to pick up an electric guitar and play,” He sighs, and you can tell from the far-away look on his face that he’s daydreaming about something and the sight warms your heart.

“You should,” is all you say, startling Jungkook out of his trance. “I think you’d do absolutely great in music, Jungkook! You should go for it.” Jungkook looks at you, stunned. He blinks, trying to process what you had just said, before clasping your fingers a bit tighter, unsure of himself.

“Really?” He mutters softly, “You really think I can do it?”

“Of course,” you encourage with a bright smile. “If it’s you, then you can do anything!”

It’s silent for a moment, with Jungkook deep in thought. But you don’t necessarily mind, as more than anything, you understood the weight of your words. Being Jungkook’s friend meant that you stuck by him through a lot of undesirable moments, moments that both of you promised to never speak of unless it was absolutely necessary.

You knew how much he longed for his dreams. Ever since that rather inspiring conversation you had around a week ago, you knew just how much Jungkook bottled up his true passions and desires, even though there were moments wherein he would freely let them out.

“Then you have to be there with me,” he says, eyes filled with determination. “I don’t think I can do this without you (Y/N).”

Looking back at it, you chuckle at how swooned you were with Jungkook’s words. It was crazy to think that he had swept you off your feet with a mere ten words that ultimately decided the course of a good chunk of your life. You let him, and for that, you were to blame, But that didn’t necessarily mean that you regretted your decision in its entirety.

Suddenly, your phone rings from beside you, and you grab it from where it lay in your purse, only to see an old number that you hadn’t seen in a while. It’s been a year, you think, as you accept the call, pressing your phone to your ear. “Hello?”

“(Y/N) dear! It’s been such a long time!” You smile at the cheery sound present within the old lady’s voice, although you can’t deny that you hear a twinge of worry within it. You used to go to her pub every so often back when you were still in the band. And the old lady had been such a sweet soul, acting as some sort of parental figure to you and your bandmates through the years.

“It’s good to hear from you again,” you mutter, pleasantly surprised at her sudden call but also a bit suspicious because you had no idea what she was calling for. “May I ask why you’re calling me?”

“Ah!” The old lady exclaims, and suddenly the initial chirp present within her fades into a frantic tone that has your eyebrows furrowing in confusion, not sure what to expect. “Do you mind picking up your boyfriend?”

You blink, confused and startled. “I’m sorry,” you say, still not processing it clearly. “What was that?”

You hear a sigh from the other side of the phone. It sounds tiring, exasperated even, Which shouldn’t be the case since the pub usually opens up later at night. It was only open during the day for company employees. And what sane person would cause trouble with this much sunlight out?

“Your boyfriend dear,” the old lady continues, sounding absolutely done, yet at the same time, the concern was still there, and you swear you hear the sound of glass falling in the back, causing your eyebrows to furrow in worry. “He’s been drinking for hours, and this is more than he’s ever drunk!”

You stay silent, letting it all sink in. The only person she could have possibly been referring to was Jungkook. There was no doubt about that. After all, the old lady’s pub was where you and Jungkook would often find yourselves having late-night rendezvous, drinking the night away as you bonded over whatever life was throwing at you within those moments.

But now, the pub gave you nothing but pain.

“Grandma, I’m sorry to tell you this, but me and Jungkook aren’t—”

“—So you’ll come, yes? Thank you, dear! Truly a lifesaver!”

She hangs up. You stare at your phone in disbelief, shocked at the predicament you had unknowingly gotten yourself into. What were you supposed to do now? The responsible thing to do was to probably phone Namjoon and tell him about the situation. But with what had just transpired earlier today with the release of your single last night and your performance this morning, you’re not so sure he would appreciate any sort of contact from you.

With a sigh, you turn to head towards the pub. No matter how much you hated Jungkook for the way he treated you within the last few stages of your relationship, you couldn’t leave him alone to wallow in his misery (even though there was a part of you that was secretly glad that he was torn because of you). It would be too cruel of you. Especially considering that Jungkook had been a significant part of your life.

Huh, guess you haven’t moved on as much as you thought you had.

Even just reaching the pub brought back memories that you wish wouldn’t resurface. You and Jungkook used to wrestle over who would open the door for the other, and more often than not, Jungkook won. But you weren’t one to lose quickly, even to him.

The familiar jingle that came with opening the door brought a pang of nostalgia to your heart. When you and Jungkook would enter the pub, just ten seconds after the jingle faded away, the old lady would come out of her quaint kitchen and say

“Welcome home— Oh, there you are, dear!”

Not exactly how you remembered it, but it was still familiar all the same.

“Hello grandma, how are you?” You greet with a solemn smile, watching with fond eyes as the old lady comes up to clasp your hands within her own. “Oh dear, I haven’t seen you in forever. Why haven’t you visited in so long?”

You’re not sure what to say. How are you supposed to tell her that you left and broke up with the man she asked you to pick up? That would put her in an awkward position, and you didn’t want to cause stress for the already weary lady.

“Oh, never mind that,” she says, luckily dropping the subject. “Come in, come in, your boyfriend’s over there drinking in the corner. Did something happen? I’ve honestly never seen him drink this much before. At this rate, he’s going to finish my soju supply before I open up for the night!”

You enter the main area, and immediately you’re hit with the familiar, comforting scent of alcohol and home-cooked meals, as odd as it sounds. Although the smell of alcohol was by far heavier in the air, and as you turn to look for the source, your eyes land in Jungkook.

And you’re, for lack of a better word, shocked.

It was almost as if he was drowning in an ocean of soju bottles, with some of the alcohol dripping off the table and into the ground or his clothes. Partly because he was pouring himself another shot, which you know he can’t take.

He could barely handle two bottles when the two of you were dating, so why did it feel like he was drinking more than ten. If he wasn’t stopped now, something majorly damaging could happen to him, and as much as you never wanted to speak to him, you couldn’t just ignore him when he was literally on the brink of life and death.

You stomp on over to where he’s at, hastily quickening your steps as he’s about to down his last shot, and before you can even think about what to do, your instincts act on their own, and your hand reaches out to him, stopping him.

No words are spoken. Rather, you can’t find the words to say as you watch with solemn eyes as Jungkook looks at his hand confused. He tries to shake it, to move his arm so he can bring the shot glass to his lips, but you remain firm in your grip, clasping just a bit harder so he wouldn’t push through with the shot.

He looks around, following the trail left by your grasp until he meets your eyes, and already you can feel the whirlwind of emotions bubbling up inside you. This was the first time you and Jungkook have met after the breakup after leaving the band. You never expected the two of you to meet this way. Although, you supposed life was funny like that. It liked to throw unexpected situations in your face, especially in the most inappropriate times.

You watch as he squints, trying to make sense of who you were before he gasps, arm slacking, falling into the side as the alcohol from the shot glass splatters into the air. He squints once more as if trying to ensure that what he was seeing in front of him was real before stammering.

“(Y/N)?” He whispers, broken, voice breaking. You try not to let your emotions show, knowing that if you do, he’d only lure you back into him, which was something you did not want at all. You were done. After many months, heck years of being torn apart by him, you couldn’t afford any more pain. It would break you even more than it already did,

“Hey,” you whisper back, breath hitching as you watch the way Jungkook’s eyes widen at the sound of your voice, loud and clear for him to hear. Even with his drunken state, he can’t deny the pang of nostalgia that runs through his veins once he finally registers that it’s you standing before him. In the flesh. Not a vision on TV or a picture of you from his memories.

It was you.

“What are you doing here?” He slurs, trying to reach out to you, but you move away, refusing him any form of affection. Because you two were too far gone for that.

“Grandma called,” is all you say, the disappointed look in Jungkook’s eyes not going unnoticed. “Asked me to pick you up. Said you’ve been drinking more than you used to and… I can see that.”

You gesture to the empty soju bottles that littered the table with a grimace, turning back to Jungkook only to hear him scoff and point a finger to you accusingly, although with his drunken state, his posture was way off. “Who do you think’s to blame?” He asks, sarcasm laced within his tone. You raise an eyebrow at that, choosing to let him continue before you could offer back any sarcastic remark of your own.

“It’s you!” He continues, slamming his fist to the table, much to your surprise. “You and your stupid fucking song…. I mean, what the fuck is up that?”

“What the fuck is up with what, Jungkook?” You quip back, eyeing his fist cautiously in the case he would do something dangerous that would either injure him, you, or if worse comes to worst, both.

“Don’t play dumb with me,” He continues, and Jungkook can feel the irritation, frustration, and fatigue build within him now that he’s finally gotten a chance to let all these raging emotions out. “You know what you did! Why’d you do it, huh?” His voice grows louder, causing you to flinch as you move your chair back just a bit.

“Why’d you have to ruin my fucking reputation?”

All of a sudden, it’s like something in you snaps.

You can’t believe it. You can’t believe the audacity Jungkook had to say something as outrageous and stupid as what he just said. The emotions that were already burning up within you finally exploded as you stared at him with all the anger and disbelief you could muster.

And here you thought he was drinking because he had finally realized all the wrongs he had done to you. What a fool you were.

“Excuse me?” You say, exasperated. “What did you just fucking say?”

“I said what I said (Y/N),” Jungkook continued, not noticing the way rage was about to take you into its waiting arms, only to allow you to explode upon him with all the pent-up hurt that you’ve accumulated inside you. “You and your fucking song ruined the band any my reputation. Is this how you repay me after everything I’ve done for you?”

You blink. The words slowly make their way towards you as you try to process them, letting out a chuckle at how ridiculous his words were. “Are you being serious right now?” You say, scoffing at how there wasn’t an inch of regret on Jungkook’s face. “You’ve got to be joking, right?”

You want to give him the benefit of the doubt. You want to give him a chance to prove your ears, mind, and heart wrong. That he wasn’t actually thinking those absurd thoughts that had your gut-wrenching and your heartbreaking after already being broken. This couldn’t be the Jungkook that you knew, right? He wouldn’t be this cruel, right?

“Do I look like I’m joking?”

“You piece of shit.” You spat without even realizing it, surprising Jungkook. He’s sobered up just a little from your outburst, looking at you like a deer caught in headlights. For a moment, you regret speaking without any thought. But the more you try to rationalize it, the more the anger burns. This was unacceptable.

“Reputation?” You scoff, looking at him incredulously. “You’re fucking worried about your reputation when there are bigger issues to be addressed here?”

“(Y/N) I—”

“Shut up, Jungkook,” you say, cutting him off coldly. “You don’t get a say in this when all you’re worried about is your reputation over a broken relationship with someone you’ve grown up with for the past thirteen years!”

Wide-eyed, Jungkook gapes at you, and you, in your disgruntled state, take this chance to get back at him, unleashing all the feelings you’ve buried deep inside you.

“You dare ask me why I’m treating you this way when you’ve been nothing but nice to me?” You mock, his words hurting more than they should. “Do you even bother to ask yourself as to why I broke up with you in the first place, Jungkook? Why I left? Did you even bother to listen to my song?”

His silence echoes throughout the pub, further shattering any lingering hope that you had about the situation. “No,” he says after a while, firm in his belief as he stared back at you, although his gaze seemed as if it could easily water away. “Didn’t think it was necessary; after all I did nothing wro—”

“—You treated me like shit for the last two years of our relationship, Jungkook. That’s what you did wrong.” You exclaim, not wanting to hear his excuses. “Are you really this blind to not know? To not see your own faults?”

How could he? You think to yourself, the unbearable pain of this revelation thrumming through every fibre of your being. It was painful. Painful to hear that he hadn’t even thought about the situation through your lens. He was too absorbed with what he had going for himself that he failed to see the world through your eyes, and it frustrated you to no end.

Because that breakup broke you like no other.

Choosing to leave wasn’t an easy decision, by no means. You had risked everything to help support Jungkook in hopes that you would find a dream of your own. You joined the band, knowing that you would put your family’s safety and security at risk instead of pursuing a more stable career like starting a business or becoming a doctor.

You became selfish to follow Jungkook, so of course, you were attached.

Jungkook, in a sense, was your world. You suppose, looking back at it now, that wasn’t the healthiest decision you took for yourself. But at that time, you could not help yourself. He was your first friend, your first love, your first everything. Jungkook showed you the ways of the world and then shattered it without a care. Of course, more than any other breakup, it would tear you apart.

Because to be honest, loving Jungkook made you happy. You remember when he first asked you out. Probably one of the best moments of your entire life. It happened after your band’s first major gig to open up the local summer festival. The two of you were still calming down from the high of the performance, excited, thrilled to have finally been given the opportunity in front of a bigger crowd. It felt surreal seeing the fascinated faces and happy smiles as they listen to your music.

Jungkook was right. This feeling was incredible.

“Holy shit. That was amazing,” Jaehyun laughs, hugging Yugyeom before turning to hug you and Jungkook. “I can’t believe we just did that!”

“Do you think they liked us?” Yugyeom, ever the timid one asks. “I felt like I made a mistake somewhere along the second cho—“

“—Who cares, man?” Jungkook says, cutting Yugyeom off with a playful slap to the back. “We just fucking performed our first major gig. This isn’t time to be wallowing down on our mistakes. This is a time to celebrate!”

You and Jaehyun hollered in agreement, following Jungkook as he dragged Yugyeom backstage where the four of you packed up, took a few commemorative pictures, and made your way towards the nearest convenience store to celebrate the night with some good old ramen, ice cream, and whatever your hearts desired.

It was a fun night, one filled with laughter as the four of you joked about whatever your mind could think of. Jungkook boasted about how he was right about their band getting somewhere, of how Jaehyun and Yugyeom, who were much more hesitant in joining the band, and after months of no progress, we’re beginning to regret it, had nothing to worry about.

Jaehyun and Yugyeom even mustered up the courage to do a speed eating challenge, grabbing about her round of hot piping ramen and racing to see who could eat it the fastest, despite the heat burning their tongues both literally and figuratively.

It was a night where for once, the four of you didn’t have to worry about life outside of the band. Didn’t have to worry about the social pressure from school or home, Didn’t have to worry about stupid tests or becoming the best, for once the four of you could just be yourselves. Unapologetic and free.

When Jaehyun and Yugyeom decided to pack it up and head home, saying that if they didn’t arrive before their dreaded curfew, then their parents would literally send them to the pits of hell, you didn’t notice the way Jungkook grew silent. Maybe you did, but you were too preoccupied with the nauseated looks on Jaehyun and Yugyeom’s faces as they headed towards the public restroom to flush out the ramen in their system.

“Hey (Y/N)?” Jungkook asks once Jaehyun and Yugyeom are nowhere to be seen. You hum in response, turning to look back at him, and immediately your eyes become overwhelmed with worry at the serious look on his face as he gazes up at the night sky, seemingly nervous and scared.

“Will you go out with me?”

It’s unexpected, a bomb to your heart if you could call it. You gasp the moment the words flow out of his mouth, staring at Jungkook in shock. Did he really just ask you out?

You think it’s a joke. A cruel trick of nature. But by the way, Jungkook nervously fidgets from where he sits, and his eyes nervously dart around. Like they usually do during nerve-wracking situations like these, you knew in your heart that his words were true.

And you couldn’t be more overjoyed because you had fallen for Jeon Jungkook too.

Throughout your many years of friendship, you had gotten to know Jungkook inside out. You were there when he threw a mini tantrum over missing first place in the final exam by one point, knowing that his parents would be disappointed in him. You were there when the two of you went out to buy his first-ever electric guitar after months of saving up money secretly. You were there for him when he was convincing Jaehyun and Yugyeom to join the band, even when he was about to get into a fight with Jaehyun over the matter.

And like clockwork, you had fallen.

It wasn’t particularly hard to do so. Jungkook had this certain charm to him, after all. He was an enigma. He could draw people into his rhythm like it was nothing and have them follow to the beat of his own drum. Sometimes you wondered if there was a hidden secret with the way he could so easily attract people, but the more you hung out, the more you realized that wasn’t the case at all. He was genuine in everything he did.

“Yes,” you say without hesitation, causing Jungkook to whip his head to face you in the blink of an eye, mouth slacking in shock. He blinks, you smile, and suddenly a smile of his own is forming on his face, reaching all the way into his eyes.

“For real?” He whispers, not wanting this moment to slip away from his grasp. He was so close to having you in his arms, something he’s wanted for the longest time, that he was afraid that if he spoke any louder, he would ruin any chance he got. But your reassuring gaze and gentle hold immediately calm the raging wave of anxiety within him. “For real,” you affirm, and suddenly you’re in Jungkook’s embrace.

It’s a warm embrace, one that has you returning it back with the same vigor, the same excitement bubbling in your chest. This marked the beginning of a new chapter for you and Jungkook, one where the two of you would walk down the unclear path you have chosen, still remaining by each other’s side, but this time, with hands intertwined.

You just wished it didn’t go up into flames like this.

You blink, snapping out of your trance as you gaze at Jungkook. Once more, seeing the way his lips were pursed into a thin line, his brows furrowed as if he had a lot going on through his mind. Which was only fitting. He had to, or else this wave of hurt and pain would only intensify and turn into something you would never be able to control.

Remembering the happy moments was something you had promised yourself not to do, for it only brought you into another world of pain after looking at how the two of you were faring now. But in the midst of agony staring right at you, you couldn’t help but let yourself reminisce in hopes of relieving some of that anger and hurt so you wouldn’t do anything out of hand.

“Tell me, Jungkook,” you finally say after a moment of silence, and you want to curse yourself for the way your voice cracks at the end. You had to be strong. You had to get through this. Because there was no way, you were going to let Jungkook ruin you once more. “How do you think our relationship was going within the last two years?”

Silence befalls the room for what feels like the millionth time, But this one is heavier than the last. Jungkook looks at you with such a severe gaze that you almost falter, forgetting the fact that he’s drunk with the way his eyes bore into yours.

You dread his answer, not knowing what to expect. With the way, he was acting, and with all the things he’s said and done, you knew that his words would only hurt you even more from here on out. You clutch the fanfic of your sweater tightly, hanging on by a thread.

But he says nothing.

The heavy silence lasts longer, and the more it persists, the more disappointment and disbelief creep into the cracked crevices of your already broken heart. Was he really going to act this way? Saying nothing at all? Did your relationship mean nothing to him in the past 2 years?

“Unbelievable,” you mutter, letting out a scoff as your eyes scan his figure. He’s hunched up as if unsure of what to do, what to think, or what to say. There’s probably a flurry of emotions running through his mind, but you don’t pity him. You hope it continues to weigh heavy, as it did to you for the last three years.

“I was miserable, Jungkook,” you whisper, recounting the memories you had buried deep within, afraid to open them up again at the cost of your already fragile happiness. But to be truly happy, one needs to let go of all the agony locked within. “Ever since Eunha came into our lives, you started treating me like a side character, as if I wasn’t your girlfriend.”

“And no,” you say sternly, already knowing what Jungkook was to say by the way his eyes widened and his mouth slacked, an arm up in protest for your words. “I’m not blaming Eunha entirely, contrary to what you may think. Sure, her arrival started it all. Sure, there were times where she acted so out of line that I wanted to slap her in the face n’s remind her who exactly she was talking to. But I couldn’t. Do you know why, Jungkook?”

His eyebrows furrow in confusion, and you take a deep breath as you gather your thoughts. This was the first time you were finally going to let out all of your frustrations that’s been building up inside you for the past few years. It was a nerve-wracking feat, but a necessary one nonetheless, as even in those few moments of speaking, you were starting to feel just a bit more free.

“Because I didn’t even know who I was anymore.”

Jungkook’s never been this confused in his life.

It’s as if you had dropped a bomb on him without warning, causing him to be in a frenzy. What did you mean? How could you blame Eunha? Eunha was a sweet girl who could do no wrong. She was there for him whenever he needed that extra support, whenever he needed someone to ground him in this cruel, unforgiving world.

She was there when you weren’t and was a constant in his life. How could such a sweet girl like her be the catalyst of this catastrophic situation? It had to be a joke.

“You’re lying,” he mutters, shaking his head in disbelief. The pain in his heart was coming back again, and just when he thought he had finally gotten rid of that after drowning in alcohol moments ago. This was your fault. You and your stupid song, your stupid lies. You were driving me crazy.

“I’m lying?” You ask, and Jungkook looks up to meet your eyes, feeling another burst of pain shoot through him at the agonizing expression on your face. Why did you look so hurt? He did nothing wrong. He didn’t hurt you. He couldn’t have. He had always been there for you. He was the reason you could do what you could in the first place. There was just no way that misery was because of him.

“Jungkook, did you even realize that with how much time you were spending with Eunha, you weren’t spending time with me anymore? Remember how you used to walk me home at midnight after your time at the studio and my radio show? You stopped doing that ever since she appeared.”

Lies.

“For days, I stood outside the company for hours, waiting for you to bring me home because you promised that you’d never miss it for the world. And on the day that I finally decided to check up on you, worried that you might have been overworking yourself? I see you in the studio, laughing with Eunha.”

Jungkook wanted to scream. He was stressed. He had to make music. Why couldn’t you understand that?

“And when I confronted you about it? You shrugged me off, saying I was overly dramatic.”

You are. Jungkook insists in his head, thoughts spiraling. What’s wrong with him not bringing you home. Even if he was your boyfriend, he was not obligated to, right? You were supposed to understand him, right? That’s what lovers are supposed to do.

“I thought to myself, maybe you were right. Maybe I was overdramatic, so I did what you asked and shrugged me off. Yet, with each passing day, it felt like I was a stranger in your eyes. Do you even realize Jungkook that ever since Eunha came into our lives, we’ve only been on three dates?”

You’re too demanding, his mind screams. Three dates? That was plenty for successful stars of your caliber. You had to understand that being under the limelight meant that he couldn’t reserve all the time in the world for you.

His heart clenches painfully again, and Jungkook feels a sob hitch in his throat.

“It hurt.” You cry, letting out the words that Jungkook wanted to say. “It hurt so much watching the love of my life and my best friend toss me to the side. Where was the you that promised that you’d always be there for me? Where was the you that promised to stay?”

You’re crying now, tears streaming down your face as the words you’ve kept hidden for the longest time finally make their way out of your system. Every part of you was screaming in agony and pain, and you can feel the mended parts of your patched-up heart slowly break again.

“Jungkook, I loved you. I loved you so much that I risked it all for you. I joined the band even though I wasn’t sure of our future because I saw how happy you were. You showed me what happiness could be, and I’ll never be able to thank you enough for that, but at the same time, you showed me firsthand real pain and heartbreak. And I don’t think I can ever forgive you for doing that.”

No. Why? You had to forgive him. You were his best friend. Stop. Stop speaking. Stop it.

“I left because I wanted to keep what we still had within our memories.” You whisper, remembering the night you finally came to your decision. Remembering all the times you cried and broke down, not knowing what to do or where you should go. All the times where you forced yourself to put on a smile on your face and act as if everything was fine even though it wasn’t.

“And I hoped that in leaving, we could pick up all the broken pieces and create something new with them. Maybe it would not have been a relationship as strong as the one we’ve had before. But at least it was something. And at least I would have still had a connection to you.”

You’re calm now, in a much better headspace than before. But that didn’t mean the ocean of despair that you surrounded yourself in dwindled in the slightest. It was still there, waiting in silence for the moment it could envelop you once more into its treacherous arms and drown you in its suffocating whispers.

“But what the fuck is this?”

You can feel the tides begin to sway, and you will yourself desperately to keep them down. With how the situation was unfolding, you needed to be the bigger person. For your sanity, For Jungkook’s, and for the closure that you both needed, which you weren’t sure would ever peacefully come to an end.

“I never thought that you’d think of us like this Jungkook,” you whisper, and much to your horror, a tear slipped from the crevices of eyes as you hurriedly wiped them, standing up to grab your purse as you stood to leave the pub, not caring one bit if Jungkook got home safely or not, you were too overwhelmed to care.

“I thought you loved me,” You whisper as you turn to look at him one final time, and all of a sudden, Jungkook is hit with wave after wave of sadness, anger, pain, frustration radiating from you. It suffocates him, and the only thought running through his head were questions of him hurting you? Was this really all his fault?

“But I guess you only loved yourself.” A chuckle falls from your lips as you make your first step out of the door. Not paying mind to the old lady who looks at you with a worried gaze, you turn to open the door of the pub, only for someone else to beat you to it.

Lo and Behold, It’s Eunha.

“You,” She gasps as she takes in your disheveled and exhausted state. Although that immediate shock quickly disappears as she catches Jungkook’s equally petrified state from the corner of her eye. She then glares at you, but you honestly can’t find the energy within you to care.

Because this was never about her in the first place, even if in some way she plays a small part.

“What did you do?” Eunha spats as she rushes past you to go to Jungkook, not even bothering to hear you out. You sigh, gathering the last remaining buts of courage within clenched fists, and make your way out of the door, leaving Jungkook, your broken heart, and the memories you two shared behind for good.

Not caring what he would do with those fragments in the end.

“Jungkook!”

Eunha exclaims, immediately hooking her arms around him and hoisting him up into an embrace. “What happened? What did that bitch do?” But Jungkook doesn’t answer, thoroughly overwhelmed by the range of emotions that had just surpassed him from his conversation with you.

Was it truly his fault? Was he the reason why things had turned out this way? There was no way right. He had treated you right, right?

Jungkook tries to convince himself that he’s done nothing wrong, that he was perfectly innocent in this situation. But that nagging feeling deep within his mind and soul screams at him to finally realize the truth. He’s scared. He doesn’t want to know what lies beyond the bubble of happiness he had placed himself in. He doesn’t want to feel the agonizing pain he’s put himself through without realizing it.

But not doing so would kill him more than knowing the truth ever will.

So he opens the door to the truth and wallows in the misery of what he’s done.

To be fair, there was some truth to Jungkook’s words. He had treated you like you were the most precious thing in the universe. And that was because, for the longest time, Jungkook did consider you highly special to him. You were his first friend, the first person he could confide his feelings in, the first person who showed him what love could be like.

You grew up together, cried together, had your first drink together, stood on stage for the first time together. You had done just about everything together, and Jungkook cherished you more than anything in the world.

In everything he did, he always tried to make you a part of it. Whether that meant buying your favorite drink or sending you pictures of whatever he was doing, Jungkook always wanted to help you see the world through his eyes because you deserved that much.

Ice cream dates, sneaking out at night to have some chicken and beer, random dates at the local arcade, a stroll at the beach. You and Jungkook had practically done it all. So, where did it all fall apart? Where did Jungkook go wrong?

“Jungkook?” Eunha calls out, and Jungkook finally musters up the courage to look at Eunha, who was worriedly trying to get him to answer her. Her hold is familiar, something he’s been used to in the past two years, yet at the same time, something was missing within her warmth. An unexplainable feeling he couldn’t quite describe.

And then he realized it wasn’t you.

Just when did he go astray? When did he start treating you like you weren’t the world to him? For sure, it wasn’t a singular moment. It was most definitely a culmination of many events that led up to his demise. But just how did it happen?

He looks at Eunha’s worried eyes, those same eyes that he thought meant the world to him within those two years of your break up. Yet, for some reason, he just couldn’t look at them in the same way anymore. Not when there was this hollow emptiness in his heart that called out for you and only you,

It was like a game of tug and war in his heart. He still loved Eunha; that much was for sure. But he couldn’t deny the love that he had for you as well. He remembered how Eunha was like a breath of fresh air for him. In the midst of all your nagging for him to take care of himself when he was working his ass off making new songs and dealing with management, Eunha was there to simply smile and encourage Jungkook.

Like a fool, he got lured into Eunha’s charm and held onto it, not noticing that he was letting go of you in the process.

His heart wails. It cries in pain and desperation of the love it has lost. Why did it have to be this way? Why was Jungkook such a fool? So consumed by his own selfishness, he abandoned the love you two shared and sought another, and now he was reaping what he had sown.

You were gone. You would never come back. Whatever love you had between the two of you had left and died out. The world was cruel. It had given Jungkook so much hope yet took it away from him the moment he slipped up. Yet, he couldn’t really blame them. He couldn’t really blame you.

Because he knew you had tried, he could see it in the way your eyes still cried out in pain when you see him. He could hear it in the agony of your voice as you sang passionately in your songs. He knew you did your best to pick up the fallen pieces and try to mend them back together. But all Jungkook did was rip them apart all over again.

Life couldn’t have been any better for Jeon Jungkook until suddenly it was not.

And he was the only one to blame.

➢ taglist: @wearenot7withu @nadiaislas @bbydoejk

#bts x reader #bangtan x reader #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #jeongguk x reader #jeon jeongguk x reader #bts jungkook x reader #bts fanfiction

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dreamwritesimagines · 3 years

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Burn The Witch 8 - Rookie Mistake [Bucky Barnes x Reader]

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful support and feedback my loves ! ❤ Here’s the next chapter, I hope you like it as well and please let me know what you think! ❤ Thank you! ❤❤❤

Warnings: Enemies to lovers, fake dating, mentions of blood, sex, violence, death, manipulation, language, guns, knives.

Summary: Every agent makes mistakes.

Series Masterlist

You had no idea what you’d done for karma to hunt you down like this, but it was very clear that at some part in your life, you had messed up.

Maybe it was because you never bought recyclable giftwraps for Christmas even if everyone told you to.

Maybe it was because you still used too much sugar in your coffee.

Maybe it was because of all the targets you had killed.

A mystery, that one.

You groaned, pressing your forehead on the window of the car as you massaged your temples.

“Do I have a tracker on me or something?” you whined, “Is that it? What are the chances I run into my fake boyfriend twice while on a mission? It’s a huge city, it’s not supposed to be possible!”

“I don’t know about you but I’m shaking,” Keith reached out to wave his hand in front of your eyes while Chloe checked you both in the rear mirror, “I’m— my hands are all sweaty look—“

“Don’t touch me with your sweaty hands!” you batted his hands away when he tried to touch your face, “How did this happen? How is this possible? Chloe? Chloe answer me, how is this fucking possible?”

“Okay, let’s all take a breath and focus on the bright side of the situation,” she managed to say, keeping her eyes on the road, “Your cover wasn’t blown, he still has no idea you’re…well, you. And everyone is alive, yay!”

“I was on the same rooftop as the world’s most dangerous assassin,” Keith let out a breath, “He was right there when I got there, he was just…. That guy could kill us all!”

“Shrike, just give the order and we will—“

“Everyone stay where you are,” you touched your earpiece, “It’s under control.”

“Let me guess,” Bucky said as he took a step towards you, “Another member of HYDRA and you got here before me.”

“Are you following me or something?” you asked and he scoffed.

“Maybe you’re not the only person going after HYDRA.”

“Maybe I should be,” you said, “Don’t get me wrong, I kind of dig the whole vigilante vibe but my superiors have more…planned strategies for things like these.”

“And who do you work for, exactly?”

You let out a small laugh, “Every girl has her secrets,” you stated, “Why are you here?”

“Why are you?”

“Because I’m getting paid for it,” you said, “You’re not. Surely a handsome guy like you could fill his nighttime with different activities rather than doing….this.”

Even in the dark, you could tell that he shifted his weight uncomfortably.

“Aw, not a huge fan of flirting?”

“Not with you.”

You couldn’t help but scoff a laugh at the irony, “Why, you got a girl at home?”

The door slammed open and one of the agents –Keith, you assumed— stepped out, his rifle pointed at Bucky while he heaved a sigh, shaking his head slightly.

“Your friend has a scarf wrapped over his face to keep his identity hidden and you call me a vigilante?”

Keith almost looked like Daredevil with Chloe’s red scarf covering half of his face.

“Mystery is kind of our deal.” you said and motioned at Keith, “Put the gun down, he’s not going to hurt me. In fact, he’s going to let me walk away.”

Bucky tilted his head, “You think so?”

“I know so. I’d hate to mess up that beautiful face during combat.”

“You sound very sure of yourself.”

“I am.” you shrugged your shoulders and walked past him.

“Who are you?” he asked and you turned around to look at him.

“Come on, you know better than that.” You said and saluted him in a mocking manner before walking to the door, “Until next time, soldier.”

“I’m serious, feel my hands—“ you were pulled out of your thoughts when Keith reached out for you and you made a face, slapping his hand away once again.

“He told me he would stay at home tonight!” you exclaimed. “I can’t believe this, how dare—“

“It’s not like he said he was going to bed and ended up going to a club behind your back,” Chloe said, “Just saying, that happens a lot in some relationships.”

“Chloe, it’s not a real relationship!” you reminded her “What, my options were him having a one night stand and him going after the same target I was going to kill? By all means, he can go and get laid then!”

“But that would count as cheating!” Chloe said, “Besides, you know what they say. Targets over...ladies.”

“No one in the whole human history has ever said that honey.” Keith said helpfully and you looked out the window.

“Wait, where are we going?”

“The base.” Chloe said as if she was apologizing, “Dad wants to see you.”

You threw your head back and slipped a little on the leather seat.

“Great,” you muttered, “Tonight is getting better and better.”

***

Thankfully, General decided to let you go home after an hour of briefing. He had asked you whether you would like to be pulled out of other missions and instead just focus on Bucky but ignoring Keith’s glances, you had said no.

You had to prove yourself if you wanted to be a handler.

Thankfully it was Saturday so you could sleep until late and when you woke up, instead of going over the plans and rushing to the milkshake shop and coming up with strategy after strategy.

For some reason, you felt almost excited for your second date with Bucky. Maybe Chloe had a point, maybe you had to be extra careful not to lose yourself in your own cover. Just because you hadn’t had that problem before didn’t mean you could take it for granted.

You weren’t used to this kind of a mission. Not this long anyway, tricking a target was fine, it was expected but actually forming a relationship with them was much more complicated than a couple of lies here and there.

You clicked your tongue and tilted your head, looking in the mirror. You already knew Bucky would show up on his motorcycle, so you ditched the dresses and instead picked jeans and a nice blouse. When Chloe had first recreated your whole wardrobe for this mission, you whined for days but now you were slowly getting used to it.

Even though you were pretty sure you would never get used to the uniform.

Your phone started vibrating on the nightstand and you checked the caller I.D. before answering it.

“Hi!” you said, “Are you here?”

“Yes ma’am,” You could almost hear Bucky’s grin, “You ready?”

“Don’t go anywhere, I’ll be right there,” you said and hung up, then took a last look at your gun and put it beneath your pillow. Pushing your hair behind your ear, you locked the door behind you and made your way downstairs.

“Oh my goodness you were serious!” you said when you saw him leaning against a motorcycle and he looked you up and down, his face lighting up with a smile.

“Hi beautiful.”

Your stomach did a pleasant flip and you didn’t even have to fake mirroring his smile, “Hi,” you murmured and pointed at the motorcycle, “You were serious about that.”

“I was, but—“ he turned around to grab something from the top case on the motorcycle, then turned to you, holding a bouquet of flowers. You gasped and reached out to take them from him.

“As promised,” he joked as you buried your nose into the bouquet.

“Thank you,” you said, looking up at him before heaving a dramatic sigh. “Well, we had a deal. I’ll have to get on this deathtrap huh?”

“Oh if you’re the type to break deals, you don’t have to,” he taunted and you scrunched up your nose. “But where we’re going is a little away from here, just so you know.”

“Where are we going?”

“Didn’t you say you wanted to explore the city?”

You nodded and stole a look at the motorcycle standing behind him, making him chuckle.

“You laugh now but if you drop me on the way—“

“I’m not going to drop you on the way.”

“Or if I die, I’m haunting you.” You pointed at him, “For the rest of your life.”

He nodded in a very solemn manner, “Deal.”

You placed the bouquet into the top case carefully and turned to him so that he could put the helmet over your head. The fond light in his eyes was impossible to miss as he fixed it and lifted the shield.

“Comfortable?” he asked, his hands still cradling the helmet and you grinned.

“Mm hm.” You said and got on the motorcycle after him, then wrapped your arms around his torso. The scent of his cologne mixed with the faint aftershave filled your nostrils, making you inhale and you adjusted your grip.

“Ready to do this?”

“Nope,” you said, making him laugh, “Let’s do it anyways.”

***

You had never been so good at dates. You always thought it was awkward and to be frank most of the time you felt like it was an unnecessary step to getting to know this person when you could just look them up or ask Chloe to do it for you.

Besides, the last time you had gone on a date it had ended up in what spies could get as close to a relationship as possible.

But now, much to your surprise you were actually enjoying yourself.

“Brooklyn!” you said, looking around, “Oh my God, I’ve wanted to come here for a while!”

“Have you?”

“Yeah!” you said, “Since I moved to New York. I saw it on um— I saw it on Gossip Girl.”

“Is that a magazine?”

“TV show.”

“Ah.”

“You grew up here right?” you asked and he nodded.

“Yeah! Yeah I grew up very close to this neighborhood actually.”

“Do I get to see it?”

He tilted his head, “Do you want to?”

“Yes!” you said, “It’d be fun, don’t you think?”

He hesitated only for a moment, “Right this way then,” he said and held out his hand. You bit down and smile and took it, then started walking beside him.

“There used to be a movie theatre there,” he motioned at one of the shops, “I was actually— I came around here right before I was shipped off.”

“Really?”

“Mm hm. We went to this Stark Exhibition, me and—“ he stopped talking and you looked up at him before it dawned on you.

Steve Rogers.

Of course. Figures.

You cleared your throat, desperate to pull him out of his own mind.

“I can actually see you growing up here,” you said, “And for some reason you’re wearing short pants and you have a cap? And you’re like running around with a newspaper under your— am I describing a movie? I think I’m describing a movie.”

“Weirdly enough, you’re actually right.”

Your jaw dropped, “Wait, are you serious?”

“Yeah I had short pants and a couple of caps while I was growing up,” he said, making you gasp.

“Aww!”

“No, don’t.”

“That’s such a cute mental image!”

“Stop imagining it.”

“Tiny baby Bucky Barnes with his tiny little hat—“ you started but he pulled you closer to cover your mouth while still walking, making you let out a muffled laugh.

“Hey you should see my baby pictures, they’re a mess,” you said, “I have this picture with strawberry jam covering my face and my hair— oh, I’ve heard about this shop before! They make these famous bagels, do you want to take a look?”

“Sure, why not?” he said and followed you into the shop.

“Oh come on…” he muttered as he took a look at the menu board “Why does everyone put everything in food nowadays?”

You stifled a laugh and turned to the woman behind the counter, “I’ll get a cereal rainbow bagel and he will get something….classic.”

“We have plain bagel with cheese?”

“That sounds good. When exactly did people start eating lavender?” he asked you and you shrugged,

“Pretty recently I think,” you said and reached for your wallet but Bucky shot you a look.

“Don’t even think about it,” he quoted you and paid for the food, then you both grabbed the small paper plates and sat down on the small bar stools. You crossed your legs, turning to look at him better.

“I could let you try mine?” you taunted him and he chuckled.

“No thank you.” He eyed your bagel as if it was going to come alive any time. “I like the smell but…”

You tore a part of your bagel and put it on his plate. “Live a little Bucky Barnes.”

He held up the piece as if toasting you and you held up your bagel to touch his, giggling.

“So,” you said, “Could you rest last night? At least a little?”

His gaze lingered on you for a moment, as if trying to decide what to say.

“Yeah,” he said eventually, “I did.”

Right.

Of course he would lie, it wasn’t as if he could tell you—

“I just had to go outside for an hour but it was fine.”

Your eyes snapped up to his and you blinked a couple of times, taken by surprise at his honesty. It would’ve been so easy for him to flat out tell you a lie, but for some reason he chose against it. You knew he wouldn’t tell you the whole thing but the fact that he hadn’t brushed you off somehow made you feel all warm.

“Oh?” you asked, “Is—is everything okay? You were safe right?”

“Of course.”

You raised your brows, “Bucky.”

“There’s just this…crazy person I keep running into but it’s fine, no worries.”

Crazy person?!

You stared at him but you managed to pull yourself together and sat up straighter, picking at the cereal on top of the bagel.

“As long as you rested just a little, I still take that as a win,” you pointed out, making him smile.

“How about you?” he asked, “How was your night?”

I ran into you right after assassinating another member of HYDRA.

“It wasn’t as exciting as yours,” you took a bite of your bagel, “Surprising isn’t it? Here I thought I was the dangerously adventurous one.”

***

You were one hundred percent sure you were somehow doing this whole mission wrong. In fact scratch the mission, you were doing this date thing wrong.

You weren’t supposed to like it this much.

You had never enjoyed any of your earlier dates with other people this much. By the time you decided to go back, it was the middle of the night and you had spent the whole day together without even realizing it. It didn’t feel like it was a mission you had been put on, it almost—

It almost felt real.

You frowned at yourself, reminding yourself to keep your head in the game and got off the motorcycle when it stopped in front of the building your apartment was in. As soon as you took off your helmet, you started fixing your hair while he watched you with a smile on his face.

“I have a confession to make,” you said as you handed him the helmet for him to put it on the motorcycle.

“What is it?”

“There’s a slight possibility,” you said, bringing your thumb and pointer together close, “Very slight possibility that you may have been right about the motorcycle.”

“Oh was I now?” he asked, feigning surprise and you let out a giggle.

“Maybe,” you said, “I mean I didn’t die, that’s something.”

“That was an expectation?”

“That was a possibility,” you corrected him, “But I got on a motorcycle and you tried a weird bagel. As far as putting ourselves in dangerous situations on a second date, I’d say we’re even.”

“You know, thank you for acknowledging it,” he played along, “It was really intimidating at first, but I’d like to believe I pulled through in the end.”

“You did,” you said, “So proud of you. Maybe the next time you visit me at the shop, you can finally try Unicorn Cotton Candy.”

“We’ll see about that,” he said and shifted your weight, taking a deep breath.

“Thank you for today. I don’t remember the last time I had this much fun.”

“I’m glad,” he said with a smile, “Same here, aside from your quite disgusting taste in bagels, it was—”

“You didn’t like it?” you exclaimed and waved your hands in the air, “You know what, it’s fine. I have this strategy and you’ll—you’ll get there. We’re going to find something that is both completely modern and you like very much.”

“I think we already have,” he stated, his gaze locked in yours and you couldn’t help but smile at that.

“I’d hope so,” you replied, “Really.”

A silence fell upon you and you pushed your hair behind your ear.

“I should probably get going,” you pointed at the building with your thumb, “I have this very curious elderly neighbor, and trust me, she wouldn’t even wait for the morning to ask me about you if she saw us.”

“Oh we can’t have that, can we?” he said and you nodded your head, then gasped.

“Wait—Bucky, my flowers!” you said, “Give me my flowers.”

“Right,” he snapped his fingers and turned around to grab the bouquet from the top case, then paused.

“What?” you asked and he looked at you over his shoulder.

“Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to keep them in a very hot box whole day?” he asked and pulled out the bouquet, making you let out a whine at the sight. The flowers looked nearly withered and you took them from him, pressing your lips together.

“Okay, it’s not so bad,” you said as if trying to convince yourself, “It’s alright, I can fix this.”

“Darling I don’t think—“

“I can!” you insisted, “I’m gonna put them in water tonight or—or find some solution. I’m gonna google something, I’m pretty sure there are ways to save them.”

“Or I can just get you new ones.”

“That’s not how it works,” you pointed out, still holding the bouquet carefully over your chest as you assessed the damage, then looked up to find his eyes fixed on you.

“I’m—I should go now.”

“Okay.”

Neither of you moved for a moment before you took a deep breath, your heart slamming against your chest. You knew what your cover would or wouldn’t do, but somehow you had this urge that told you the situation probably called for your decisions, not your cover’s.

“Oh screw this,” you muttered as you stepped closer to him to stand on your tiptoes and pull him into a kiss.

Well, for you or your cover that felt like the best decision you had ever made on this mission.

He pressed you closer to his body, his hand cradling the back of your head and as if on cue, your stomach did a pleasant flip, giddiness filling your whole system. You rested a hand over his chest, feeling his fast heartbeat under your palm and let yourself get lost in the kiss until he pulled back slowly. A small giggle escaped from you as his arm around you got tighter, a smile lighting up his face.

“Well, you weren’t going to do it,” you commented, making him chuckle.

“I was waiting for the third date actually.”

“Oh how I’m glad the times have changed,” you said and caught the sight of the bouquet currently crushed between you two. You took a step back, tilting your head.

“Gosh, I don’t think I can fix this.”

“Yeah I’m pretty sure we just murdered them,” Bucky stated and you heaved a dramatic sigh.

“Worth it,” you grinned, “You win some you lose some.”

“New flowers next date, got it.”

A look of mischief crossed your face, “Deal. Good night Bucky.”

“Good night darling.”

You bit down a smile and made your way to the building, then hopped on the steps to get to your floor, somehow way too excited to get in the elevator and wait. As soon as you got into your apartment you leaned back to the door, closing your eyes.

Just your cover. You knew you had to act like your cover and that was why your heart was beating this fast, no other reason.

You pushed yourself off the door and stepped into the living room, still holding the flowers tight in your arms. You knew what you were supposed to do, back at the academy when you were being educated on seduction of the enemy, they always told you to draw the line between yourself and your cover. One of the easiest ways to do it was getting rid of every single thing your target would give you as a gift, keeping these gifts posed the danger of making you hesitant when it was time to bring the target in.

You couldn’t keep anything. You knew that.

It would be a rookie mistake.

You lingered on your steps, then approached the dinner table to touch the vase Chloe had put fake flowers in. You grabbed the fake flowers and pulled them out of the vase to throw them into the trashcan, then filled the vase to the brim with water and carefully placed the bouquet into it before putting it on the table again.

You were a professional spy. Keeping something as simple as flowers only for this one instance wouldn’t hurt anyone after all.

You were sure it would be fine.

You stepped back to take a look at the vase and shrugged your shoulders.

“My cover likes flowers,” you muttered to yourself and made your way to your bedroom.

Chapter 9

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #the falcon and the winter soldier #tfatws #falcon and the winter soldier #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes imagines #fatws #bucky barnes x you #marvel #burn the witch

645 notes · View notes

fruitcoops · 3 years

Note

hii would you write a coops fic that takes place before they’re out when they’re still sneaking around but have like a sweet date night at remus’s apartment

Of course! This is a continuation of Newcomers and Nargles, where Remus babysits Luna Lovegood. Hope you enjoy! SW credit goes to @lumosinlove <3

“Thank you for having me over,” Sirius said quietly as he pressed a kiss to the corner of Remus’ mouth. The only light came from his kitchen, which was far enough away that they were left in soft shadows on his couch. “Really, Re, this is wonderful.”

“There’s no need to be so formal,” he laughed, though Sirius could see the pink flush spreading to his ears. “It’s just pasta and my apartment.”

“I love your apartment.”

The flush deepened. “Moody calls it my hamster cage. You had to duck to get in the door.”

“Details.” Sirius leaned forward for a proper kiss to his lips; they had set a timer for the pasta and had a while yet, if his memory was correct. Plenty of time to settle himself more comfortably in Remus’ lap and kiss him until he got the glazed look in his eyes that Sirius adored.

He wanted this all the time. To come home with Remus every night, without fear of the wrong person (or anyone, really) seeing them. He wanted to kiss him in public and keep his hand in Remus’ back pocket like a cliché movie couple and watch Remus light up when he held his hand. He wanted.

Remus made a soft noise and slid his arms around his waist, holding him light and cozy while he traced small swirls on the small of Sirius’ back. It sent goosebumps racing along his spine—Sirius cupped Remus’ jaw in his hands and hummed his approval. The room was so wonderfully warm, filled with the smell of cooking pasta and sauce on the stove. They had made it together; shoulder-to-shoulder, hip-to-hip, trading kisses in the steam.

God, he wanted it so much it ached.

Remus trailed light kisses along his neck, taking pauses to nuzzle Sirius’ skin and nibble his collarbones. Sirius buried his face in honey curls and let himself believe this was his everyday life. Their everyday life.

A quick knock at the door shattered the illusion. Sirius felt the blood flee his face as they both froze. “Who is that?” he managed.

“I don’t know,” Remus whispered. His pupils were dilated with fear and, with a pained look, he guided Sirius off his lap so he could stand and turn the rest of the lights on. His slender hands smoothed his sweater and jeans in methodical movements, but Sirius saw their tremors.

He distracted himself from panic by looking around the apartment and all its knickknacks; the feeling of being surrounded by Remus in his most distilled form was unparalleled. A little granite wolf figurine sat with its wooden counterpart on the table by the door; dozens of pictures of family and friends scattered the walls with no rhyme or reason to their placement. It was cluttered in the best possible way, and Sirius wanted his whole life to look like it.

The door clicked open. “Hello?”

“Remus!” a woman’s voice exclaimed. “I’m so glad you answered.”

Sirius glanced over and saw Remus’ whole body relax as he opened the door further with a smile. “Hey, Pandora, how are you?”

“Doing fine, doing fine. It’s Phil and I’s anniversary and we’ve got dinner at 7:18, but Luna’s babysitter came down with a cold and can’t make it. We just got the text an hour ago and we were hoping you could watch her while we’re out.”

“Oh.” Remus’ eyebrows shot up. “I—well, I have a friend over for dinner, but we made plenty of pasta for one more, I s’pose. Sirius, is that okay with you?”

It took him a moment longer than was prudent to get over the fact that Remus—kind-hearted, friendly, beautiful, so beautiful—was asking his opinion on letting a kid join their date. Their top-secret, possibly-life-ruining-if-discovered date. “Yeah, that’s fine.”

“Oh, I’m so rude!” the woman gasped. She poked her head around the doorway and waved to Sirius—her long blonde hair cascaded over her shoulder in a messy plait, and her dress seemed to be made of a variety of beads. She was pretty, with a combination of angular features and a heart-shaped face that nudged a memory in the very back of his mind. “I’m Pandora Lovegood, from 7A. It’s so lovely to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you as well.” He padded over and held a hand out to shake, but to his surprise she took it turned it over, furrowing her brow at his palm.

“Well, that’s quite the love line!” She smiled and patted his cheek. Her eyes were glacial blue, but somehow still as warm as a crackling hearth. “Good for you. Your life line isn’t bad, either. I’ll be back with Luna in a moment!”

“Have a good night, Pandora!” Remus called as she fluttered away. “Say hi to Phil for me!”

Sirius was still standing in mild shock when the door closed. “Pandora, Luna, and…Phil?”

“Xenophilius,” Remus said. The corners of his mouth twitched. “Her husband, and Luna’s dad.”

“Hell of a name.”

“We can’t really judge, can we?” Some of his amusement dimmed and he ran a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry for ruining our date. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“No, it’s alright,” Sirius said quickly, kissing his cheek until he smiled. “You didn’t ruin anything.”

Remus looked a bit sad as he looked up despite his smile. “Yeah, but this is our only time together.”

“It’s not the last time I can ever come over to your apartment,” Sirius reminded him as he ran his hands up Remus’ arms. “I think it’s great that you’re doing this for your neighbors. It shows how caring, and sweet, and wonderful—”

“Alright, alright, I get it,” he laughed, cutting Sirius off with a vivid blush.

“Besides, I agreed to this.” He nudged their noses together. “I’m pretty sure my impressive love line can handle another date sometime soon.”

Remus grinned as he leaned in. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, Black.”

“Are you going to stop me?”

A tumbling sound came from outside, followed by a peal of giggling and a sharp pattern of knocking. “I did a cartwheel!” a tiny ball of blonde curls announced as it launched itself at Remus’ legs the second the door opened. “Hi, Remus!”

He caught her with a slight wince as Sirius tried to calm his pounding heart. “Hey, sunshine, are you ready for some dinner?”

“Oh, yes, please.” She wriggled down from his arms and gave her mother a bear hug, beaming when her face was covered in kisses.

“Be good,” Pandora said as she set Luna down and brushed her hair out of her face. “Listen to Remus and his friend. We’ll be back by ten at the latest. Thank you both again for doing this. I’ll bring over some cookies tomorrow, Remus.”

“That’s very sweet, Pandora.” Remus’ eyes tensed at the edges, as if he was in pain at the very thought. Pandora whisked herself toward the stairs again and Sirius shut the door behind her. “Luna, do you—”

“I remember you!” Sirius turned and found himself staring into the biggest pair of blue eyes he had ever seen. The memory came rushing back in a flood—Remus, frazzled and fluffed at the edges, with a little girl balanced on his hip. Luna stood on her tippy-toes and he leaned down so she could take his face in her hands. After a moment, she nodded. “You’ve done an excellent job of keeping the nargles away, Mr. Sirius.”

“Thank you.”

“Mama said you and Remus were making pasta. May I have some, please?”

“Of course you can,” Remus assured her, ushering her into the kitchen with a sweep of his arm. “After you, my lady.”

Sirius waited until Luna had safely skipped out of earshot before bending toward Remus’ ear. “Why does she…?”

“Talk like a normal kid and then a Victorian orphan?”

“Yeah.”

“Dunno. I guess that’s what happens when your mom’s a chemist and part-time psychic and your dad owns The Quibbler.” There wasn’t a trace of judgement on Remus’ face as he raised his voice by a few degrees. “Be careful by the stove, honeybun.”

“I will!” Luna chirped back. Sirius couldn’t place why, but he held undeniable affection for the little girl, even after only two meetings. She was unapologetically odd; he was sure he could never get bored of talking with her.

Luna sat on the countertop while they served up dinner, happy as a clam as she recounted her and her father’s hunt for Fizzing Whizbees at the candy store. They were her mother’s favorite, apparently, but Luna had yet to see one in real life. Her conversational skills came to a sharp halt during dinner; it was so startling that Sirius grew concerned after two minutes without her high-pitched contributions.

“Luna? Are you alright?”

“Hmm?” She looked up from her plate with a curious glance between them and gave Sirius a bright smile. “I’m making an octocapus.”

“An octopus?” Remus leaned over to look. “Wow, you got all the legs with your noodles! Way to go!”

“You’re a great artist,” Sirius agreed as Luna continued working on her masterpiece.

“Yeah, I know.”

He bit his lip to keep in his laughter and met Remus’ eyes; at first, he had been a bit worried about babysitting during a date, but he couldn’t imagine a better way to spend the night. When their plates were clean and Sirius was warm and drowsy from carbohydrates, Remus collected the dishes and headed back into the kitchen despite Sirius’ offers for help.

Luna gave a wide yawn with her head propped on one hand and turned to Sirius the moment Remus turned the sink on. “Do you give Remus kisses?”

It took all of Sirius’ self-control not to accidentally spew water all over the literal child sitting across from him. Instead, he coughed and spluttered into his napkin while the alarms in his brain began to blare. Remus showed no sign of hearing their conversation while he rinsed out the large pasta pot. “What?”

“I’d like it if you did,” Luna continued with nothing but her usual dreamy expression. “Remus needs friends, and mama says he could use some kisses.”

“I think everyone could use some kisses,” Sirius said evasively. His heart galloped in his chest.

“Hmm. Yeah. How long have you been friends?”

“We’ve known each other a little longer than you’ve been alive, but we’ve only been friends for about two years.”

“That’s a good amount of time.”

“Oh?”

She put her chin in both palms, suddenly looking much older than she was. “I’ve been alive for four whole years. That’s a long time. If you’ve known someone for four whole years, you should give them kisses.”

Sirius stared at her. “That’s quite the philosophy.”

“What’s that?”

“An idea.”

“Why didn’t you just say ‘idea’?”

“I…don’t know.”

She hummed a little under her breath. “Will you color with me?”

“Yes,” he answered as relief coursed through him. He had no clue how she had gone from blunt questions that could turn his whole world upside down to coloring, but he didn’t care. “Yes, I would love to.”

Luna slid off her seat and hopped over to Remus’ desk, then dug around in the drawers and emerged with a few sheets of blank paper and some pens. “I’m bad at outlines. Will you draw them for me?”

“Absolutely.”

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

Luna fell asleep halfway through coloring a Kneazle with Remus, which as far as Sirius could understand was just a cat that had its face squished. But it made her happy, and he would draw a million squishy cats to keep her questions about Remus to a minimum.

As soon as Remus finished tucking her in beneath a heavy blanket on the couch, he turned and crushed his lips against Sirius’ like a man dying for air. The kiss lasted long enough that Sirius was staring to get lightheaded before finding himself the (quite enthusiastic) recipient of a rib-crushing hug. They held each other for a few minutes, silent and swaying, before Remus let him go with a final kiss and they began to clean up the mess.

True to her word, Pandora returned just before ten pm with a blond man at her side and a big hug for her daughter. “Goodnight, Luna,” Remus whispered. They received a sleepy wave in response and then, finally, they were alone. “You are the best person ever.”

Sirius wound his arms around Remus’ waist and melted a little when strong hands combed through his hair. “Funny, I could say the same thing about you.”

“I didn’t know you could draw.”

He shrugged one shoulder. “I can doodle. It’s nothing fancy.”

“You drew imaginary monsters based on descriptions from a four-year-old.” Remus cupped his cheek and rested their foreheads together. “You’re amazing.”

“This was a pretty awesome date,” he mumbled, closing his eyes to bask in their little bubble.

“We should do it again sometime. Preferably without the child, though.”

Sirius’ smile came all the way from his heart as he buried his face in the slope of Remus’ neck. “As long as I get to be with you, I’m happy.”

It was the closest thing to ‘I love you’ he could bring himself to admit, but for now, it would have to do.

#sirius black #remus lupin #coops #luna lovegood #pandora lovegood #sweater weather #lumosinlove #my fic #fanfic #babysitting #date night

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alliedbiscuit · 3 years

Text

msr fic / s7 post-closure but pre-all things / wc: 3398

Scully takes Maggie out for a birthday dinner, and you'll never guess who they run into.

************

“So, how are feeling about dessert?” the waiter asks hopefully.

Maggie Scully scoffs. “Oh, no. I couldn’t eat another bite. Maybe just a cup of coffee? Decaf, please.”

“Mom, are you sure? You should get dessert,” Dana Scully prods, stopping herself short before she could let it slip, “It’s your birthday!” The last gift her mother would appreciate is a gaggle of underpaid waiters singing some public-domain-compliant version of a birthday song while the whole restaurant turns its attention toward her. Like mother, like daughter.

Well, the daughter made an exception and found that kind of thing charming exactly once. But at least she got a nice keychain out of it. All her mother would get was humiliation and a chocolate lava cake.

As soon as the waiter leaves to fetch their after dinner coffees, Maggie reveals her true intentions.

“I was thinking we could go to that ice cream parlor down the street. If I’m going to indulge, I think I want a hot fudge sundae. Or maybe we could split a banana split?”

“Or you could get a hot fudge sundae and I could get a banana split, and we could split both,” Scully suggests.

“See, that’s why you work for the FBI.”

“Dessert Conflict Resolution was part of my training at Quantico.”

Both Scullys giggle.

“Does Fox have the same specialty? Or is that what you bring to the team?”

“Mulder’s dessert strategy is just to eat everything and then swim a mile and run five the next day. No, he’s a Takeout Menu Marksman, though. He knows where to order from and what to order so it travels the best and doesn’t get cold and congealed by the time it arrives. Might sound like a trivial skill, but it’s a lifesaver on movie night.”

Maggie continues smiling but cocks her head slightly. Dana realizes why almost instantly.

“You have movie night?”

“It’s not a set thing or anything. We just…if we’re not busy with a case.”

“You just watch movies? As coworkers?”

“As friends.”

“Just friends?”

Dana lets out a long sigh as she stares her mother down. Her mother, maintaining that gentle yet challenging grin. Dana considers her response carefully. She could offer a simple yes because that is the fact of the matter. They are just friends. She could criticize the wording choice. “Just” friends? Why does it have to be “just” friends? As if friendship isn’t somehow enough or isn’t valuable?

She could realize it’s her mother’s birthday and she’s the only other Scully woman left to confide in about matters of the heart, and although she doesn’t want to bring up the New Year’s kiss because she still doesn’t really know what it meant, maybe they both need this little gift of honesty, filled with tempered excitement and promise.

“For now,” Dana Scully finally admits.

Maggie’s grin grows as Scully just shakes her head and manages to keep her slight eye roll from reaching embarrassed teenager level. The waiter does bail her out a bit by choosing that moment to deliver their coffees.

“How is Fox doing? After his mother…” Maggie trails off, but her daughter knows not to expect any more specifics.

“Better? I mean, as well as can be expected. The thing is, right after that, he found out some more about his sister. About what happened to her. It was just so much all at once. I was really worried…”

Maggie reaches across the table to lay a hand on hers.

“But, it was almost like he was ready for it. He finally had some answers. Like it brought him some peace.”

“That’s wonderful.”

“Yeah. He needed that.”

“We all do.”

*************

Maggie is the one to spot him first as they’re heading for the door.

“Is that- is that Fox?” she asks her daughter.

“What? No, he wouldn't…” Dana trails off as she looks straight ahead to where her mother was indicating and confirms that it is indeed Fox Mulder, standing with his hands in his pockets and his eyes trained to the floor as he appears to be waiting near the vestibule for the restrooms.

“Mulder?” Scully questions as she approaches, her voice giving away her confusion and growing concern.

His head darts up in surprise, but a beaming smile of recognition quickly overtakes his face.

“Hey, Scully! Mrs. Scully, it’s so nice to see you!”

“You too, Fox,” Maggie kindly replies, although a quick glance to her daughter confirms her suspicion that Dana is still very confused by his presence.

“Did you…did you need something?” She suddenly feels silly for presuming that he must have come there with urgent news or a case or something, but why else would Fox Mulder be at Petrino’s on a Saturday night? Did his informants trade in clandestine meetings in parking garages for family-style Italian?

“Hmm?” Mulder asks.

“You didn’t come here to find me? I told you I was bringing my mom here for her birthday, didn’t I?” He didn’t look like he had rushed to the restaurant from the office or his apartment as she had originally assumed. He had clearly shaved and combed his hair nicely. He wore an olive green sweater with dark blue jeans and a black wool pea coat rather than his leather jacket. He had definitely made an effort.

“You did, but I thought you were going out tomorrow night on her actual birthday. Happy birthday, by the way, Mrs. Scully.”

“Thank you, Fox. I’m going to have lunch with some ladies from church after mass tomorrow, so I asked Dana if we could do Saturday night instead.”

“Ah. What a weird coincidence then. I can’t believe we didn’t see you at all during dinner.”

We.

Oh God.

Mulder was on a date.

Mulder was on a date in this restaurant on the night he thought Scully wasn’t going to be there. Mulder was on a date right after Scully had confessed to her mother (and herself) that their “just friends” status was in the process of changing. Mulder was on a date right after he’d been through so much pain but seemed to come out lighter and more open and he wanted to share it with someone…who wasn’t Dana Scully.

“So, you’ve already eaten then?” Maggie asks since her daughter appears unable to form a coherent statement at the moment.

“Yeah, we just finished. I’m just waiting for her…” he seems to trail off just to motion towards the restroom rather than say anything indelicate, but then he notices Maggie’s poorly masked look of concern toward Dana, and then he notices Dana’s completely unmasked look of shock.

And then he gets it.

“Oh, no! It’s not…I want you to meet her,” Mulder insists as he grabs a hold of both of Scully’s elbows and then glances anxiously toward the restroom door.

Dana Scully looks like she might be ill.

Thankfully Mulder only stammers a moment longer until the restroom door opens and he finds reprieve when a tall, thin woman appearing to be in her mid-60s walks through the door.

“Aunt Helen,” Mulder calls.

Somehow Scully’s eyes manage to get even wider as some of the color returns to her face.

“Aunt Helen, there are a few people I’d really like you to meet. This is my partner, Dana Scully, and this is her mother, Margaret Scully.”

Aunt Helen smiles widely in recognition, first shaking Maggie’s hand and then Dana’s. “It is such a pleasure to meet you both. I’ve heard such wonderful things.”

She lingers with her hand holding Dana’s while she says this, and the younger Scully is left blushing. She hazards a look at Mulder, but he doesn’t look embarrassed by this revelation. He holds her gaze with nothing but pride.

“This is my aunt, Helen Briggs. She’s my mom’s sister. She’s visiting for the weekend from Charlotte.”

They all kind of marvel over the fact that they were in the same restaurant and what a coincidence and oh, we were seated near the back bar, that must be why we didn’t see you and Scully is just starting to feel her pulse return to normal as Aunt Helen laments not having a chance to talk with the Scullys.

“Well, Dana and I skipped dessert so we could go to The Big Dipper for some ice cream. Would you two like to join us?”

“Oh, that would be lovely. As long as we’re not intruding,” says Aunt Helen.

“Not at all,” Scully assures her. “There is one catch, though.”

“It’s not real ice cream. It’s that Tofutti nonsense, isn’t it?” Mulder groans.

“It better not be,” Maggie insists. “I don’t know how she eats that stuff.”

Scully ignores her mother and her partner’s bad mouthing of her frozen treats as she returns her attention to Aunt Helen.

“I’m afraid if you want to come along, you will have to reveal a few good Young Mulder stories. And by ‘a few,’ I mean as many as you’ve got. And by ‘good,’ I mean the more embarrassing the better.”

“I’ll start thinking now,” Aunt Helen laughs.

“I knew I should’ve picked a different restaurant,” Mulder says regretfully.

***********

They’ve just sat down to a small, round table for four with their ice cream when Mulder stands up to get them all more napkins, and Aunt Helen retrieves a small, rectangular piece of paper from her purse that she then deftly slides to Dana.

“Oh my god!” Scully exclaims with joy.

Staring back at her from the paper is a very young Fox Mulder. She guesses he must be around 8 or 9 in the school photo. His long, sandy brown hair falls just above his eyebrows. He doesn’t have his distinctive nose yet, but his bottom lip is already a little pouty. The real give away is the eyes. He’s grinning for the camera, but his eyes still have that soulfulness, that slight sadness.

She’s surprised. She knows she shouldn’t be. His eyes didn’t suddenly change when Samantha was taken. His eyes were probably always like that.

But she had always assumed that the great tragedy had flipped a switch for Young Fox Mulder. That before that single event, he had certainly been a perfectly happy child. Funny and athletic, popular for sure. But the humor developed as a defense mechanism later in life. And the sports were a great physical release as well as an excuse to be out of the house as much as possible. She didn’t actually know what he was like before, but now that she thought about it, home life was probably never all that great if it eventually led to a father sacrificing one child and leaving the other to always live with the guilt and loss.

It was very possible that Fox Mulder had always been a little boy with a lot on his mind.

In contrast, present day, adult Fox Mulder looks like he doesn’t have a care in the world as he returns with extra napkins, ready to tuck into his chocolate peanut butter ice cream in a waffle cone – that is until he realizes what his friend and partner Dana Scully is looking at.

“Oh come on. I was gone for thirty seconds, and you have the visual aids out.”

Scully continues to beam as Maggie finally gets a glimpse of the photo in her hand.

“Oh, Fox!”

“Okay,” Mulder said exasperatedly. “Does this meet your embarrassment quota?” he asks, looking pointedly at Scully.

“Not even close! This isn’t embarrassing. It’s adorable!”

Mulder rolls his eyes but can’t hide his bashful grin at her comment.

“It’s only fair, Fox. I know you’ve seen family photos of Dana at my house,” Mrs. Scully says, sounding like a mother well practiced in settling disputes between children.

“Just a couple. I do like that high school graduation picture, though. I still don’t know how you kept your cap on with all that hair.”

“That was the style back then. Everybody teased their hair and used a ton of hairspray.”

“I thought it might be a religious thing at Catholic school. The higher the hair, the closer to God,” Mulder teases.

Maggie and Aunt Helen chuckle, though the latter gives him a good-natured swat on the arm in admonishment.

“See, this is what I need, though. I need something from the teen years. That’s peak embarrassment fodder,” Scully says.

“If you ask our colleagues, I think my peak embarrassment fodder would come from about 1991 to present,” Mulder points out.

Aunt Helen just looks slightly regretful. “I’m afraid I don’t have many stories from those years, Dana.”

Mulder makes eye contact with Aunt Helen. “You didn’t miss much,” he insists. She looks like she wants to debate him, but he just places a hand on hers reassuringly, and they seem to make a silent agreement to not argue the point any further.

Mulder had never really mentioned any other family before. She knew his grandparents had all passed before she met him, but she had assumed, just like with everything else, that any other extended family connections had disappeared along with Samantha. That no one would know how to comfort and console The Mulders in a situation like that, with no explanation.

His aunts and uncles must have had questions, probably even had their own theories. Did his mother’s side suspect his father’s involvement, or did his father’s side blame his mother somehow? Did any of them blame…no, she couldn’t go down that route. Besides, did anyone ever suspect horrific things like that before the days of cable news and supermarket tabloids?

The point is, it was a tense situation, so Scully assumed they had all done what wealthy white people in places like Martha’s Vineyard and Boston and Raleigh did with any uncomfortable subject – they avoided it completely.

And that meant avoiding the little boy with a lot on his mind as he became a teenager with even more on his mind.

Scully had accompanied Mulder to a small burial service for his mother in Raleigh a few months ago. It was just the service. No gathering or dinner after, or at least not one that Mulder told her about. The attendees at the service were all pretty spread out, not much mingling. Again, it was another sudden loss shrouded in mystery. They all avoided particulars as much as they could.

Scully didn’t remember seeing Aunt Helen that day, but maybe she was there and just couldn’t bring herself to say anything. Maybe she wasn’t there because she couldn’t bring herself to go and then regretted it. Dana Scully didn’t know, and it didn’t actually matter. The point is that she’s here now. And that’s exactly what Mulder’s look of reassurance and acceptance seems to say.

It seems to help her perk up because she offers playfully, “Oh, what about that summer on Quonochontaug? I think you were 9 or so, and you were collecting leaves for one of your Indian Guide badges.”

“Oh god!”

“I’m hooked already. Not to jump ahead, but please tell me there’s poison ivy involved,” Scully says gleefully.

Aunt Helen’s bark of laughter and Mulder’s exaggerated eye roll are all the confirmation she needs.

“It was heavily involved! But that’s not the worst part. While he was working on his Leaf Collecting badge, he also earned credit towards his Wildlife badge when he came across a skunk in the woods.”

“No!” Scully shouts.

“Ivyed and skunked at the same time,” Mulder admits.

“Oh you poor thing,” Maggie adds sympathetically, but with barely contained laughter.

“He had to jump right from a tomato juice bath for the skunk smell…”

“Which didn’t work!”

“…into an oatmeal bath for the itching.”

“Which worked better, but I still smelled like a Grateful Dead concert.”

Both Scullys are full on giggling at this point.

“Do you remember what Grandpa Ralph said when he walked in and saw you and mom dunking me in a tub of oatmeal?” Mulder asks.

Aunt Helen pitches her voice deeper and amps up her Southern twang, “Why don’t cha dip him in some egg and flour next? We toss him in the frying pan, we got supper! We’re havin’ Fried Fox tonight!”

Now they’re all in hysterics. Even the man who usually hates his given name can’t help but laugh along, especially when it makes his lovely company so happy.

*****************

Scully enters the basement office Monday morning to find Mulder already there, flipping through an open drawer in the filing cabinet.

“Good morning,” she says cheerfully.

He looks up and smiles. “Good morning. Long time no see.”

“How was the rest of your weekend? Did you guys do any sightseeing or anything?”

“No, we just had a late breakfast yesterday before I took her to the airport, but it was good to catch up some more. She told me to thank you again for letting us tag along for ice cream. It was really nice.”

“It was,” Scully agrees.

Mulder appears to be considering something for a moment before he crosses over to the desk and picks up a small envelope.

“She also told me to give this to you,” he says almost bashfully, extending the envelope in Scully’s direction. “She told me I couldn’t look inside, and I didn’t. But I think I know what’s in there, and if I’m right, you don’t have to keep it. You can just leave it here on the desk.”

Well, now she’s intrigued. Scully opens the envelope to find a small handwritten note at the top.

“I thought you might like these. I have plenty more too, if you’d ever like to see them or want any more stories. Please don’t be a stranger.”

Scully lifts up the note to see the remaining contents inside and finds a small stack of photographs, a mixture of more school photos along with a few wallet-sized family portraits and a couple candids taken on the beaches of the Vineyard or Rhode Island, she can’t tell. But she sees the same set of eyes in all of them.

She looks back to read the rest of the note.

“I’m so glad I got to meet you, Dana. Take care!”

Below Aunt Helen’s elegant signature, she has also written her home address and phone number. Scully will have to call and thank her.

“She tried to give some to me,” Mulder explains, “but I didn’t really want…and like I said, you don’t have to…”

“No, I’d like to keep them,” Dana insists.

Mulder lets her statement hang in the air for a moment, but he can’t help but diffuse it.

“You just want more blackmail material.”

“Something like that,” Scully says teasingly, but there’s no bite behind it.

“I knew I should’ve picked a different restaurant.”

She chuckles lightly as she shuffles the photos into a neat stack to place back in the envelope, thinking that this is the point where they get back to work. Mulder stays standing in front of her and appears to be considering something again. Does he have another envelope that he’s afraid to give her?

“You know it was pure luck that we ended up at Petrino’s the same night as you. I actually gave Aunt Helen a few options and let her choose. I was pushing more for that Thai place in Arlington, just off Old Dominion. The one that’s been there forever,” Mulder explains.

“Oh, the one with the secret menu? I’ve still never been there. Can’t say I’m surprised that Aunt Helen wasn’t up for Thai food, though.”

“Yeah. Fair point,” Mulder nods for a moment too long before continuing. “Would you like to go there sometime? Like this Saturday? With me?”

Scully slowly looks up from the envelope to see Mulder’s face because in all matters, other than the divine, Dana Scully needs to see to believe. And the slightly nervous yet gentle grin that she finds allows her to believe it to be true – Fox Mulder has just asked her out on a real date.

“I would like that,” Scully says gently.

“Good. You wanna say 7:30? Or we can always figure out time later,” Mulder states, aiming for practicality to keep him from grinning like a complete idiot. He ends up grinning like a moderate idiot, but he’s okay with that.

“Sounds good.”

Yep, Scully will definitely have to call Aunt Helen and thank her.

#msr fanfic #txf fanfic #msr #mulder and scully #dana scully #maggie scully #fox mulder

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diamond-coral · 3 years

Text

The Heist- Part Two

Steve x Reader Chapter Summary: Steve sees you working at a club. Now Steve wants you...and he’ll have you.

Series Warnings: dark, rape/non-con, kidnapping, stripper themes, swearing, crime

Chapter Warnings: male masturbation, swearing, stripper themes, kidnapping, crime, mild violence, threats of rape/non-con, creepy crazy stevo

Steve had begrudgingly went to the strip club with Bucky and Sam because, as Sam said, ‘Modern women are somethin’ else compared to the 1940’s.’. Bucky was much more enthusiastic to see how much things had changed as a once been ladies’ man from the 40’s even if it meant having to go with Sam who bickered with him every five minutes. And while Bucky’s enthusiasm remained as they entered the club, the blaring music, flashing lights, and women in skimpy outfits had Steve remaining unimpressed.

Until he saw you.

You weren’t on the stage but rather talking to a coworker in the back of the room, a tray of drinks in one hand and a smile on your face that could light up a room. An honest, genuine smile that stood out in a room filled with nothing but empty sultry smiles given by dancers. Your coworker said something, and you threw your head back and let out a laugh that Steve could’ve sworn he had heard ringing all the way across the club over the blaring music.

You were perfect.

While you were still scantily clad in nothing but a light pink shimmery sheer top that showed your bra perfectly cupping your breasts, a pair of barely their black shorts, and black heels that had his eyes dragging up and down your legs, your demeanor and posture was more relaxed, and that’s what he loved. You weren’t sticking your tits out in front of you or pushing your ass back, but were rather slouched a little, eyes shimmering with excitement as you talked. What Steve saw of you was raw and authentic, and he loved it.

Sam’s voice interrupted Steve from his daydreaming, and Steve shot him a look of irritation causing Sam to raise his hands in defense.

“Woah there loverboy,” Sam chuckled. “I was just gonna suggest, you should ask for a dance from that girl you’re ogling over.”

“And before you go over and court her with your righteousness and whisk her away to waltz like prince charming, he means a lapdance, punk,” Bucky says while taking a sip of his drink.

“I- I was’t ogling,” Steve sputtered, but let out a sigh of defeat at Sam’s raised eyebrow. “I’m not gonna ask for a lapdance. Besides, she seems to be just waiting tables. I wouldn’t wanna interrupt-”

“You’re hopeless,” Sam teased as he brought his fingers to his mouth to let out a shrill cab whistle. You turned, and Sam caught your attention, beckoning you over with two fingers.

“Hiya fellas,” you said, and Steve frowned a little at the sultry voice you put on. “What can I help you with?”

“Just another round of drinks, sugar. Oh- and-” Sam leaned to whisper something in your ear and Steve noticed your eyes widening a little before your gaze snapped to him, a small smile on your painted lips.

“Of course,” you responded to Sam. “I’ll be back with your drinks shortly.”

As you turned to leave, Steve frowned at Sam. “What did you tell her,” he asked.

“Oh nothing much. Just mentioned that THE Captain America was looking for a little bit of fun tonight.”

Steve pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a groan. “Sam you dumbass.”

“Hey, he’s doing more about it than you,” Bucky interjected. “Sometimes it’s just sad watching you when you just sit and do - oh shit here she’s comes.”

“Alright, and I’ve got another round of drinks,” you said cheerfully while distributing the glasses. “And you, Mr. Rogers…” You sat on one of Steve’s thick thighs while placing your hands on the collar of his button up shirt and smoothing it down. “You’re friend told me you’re lookin’ for something… special tonight?”

Steve’s throat was dry and he was sure you could feel his heart practically beating out of his chest. “Oh well...I um-I.”

“What Mr. Womanizer would like to say is that he accepts your offer,” Sam offered, and Steve shot him what was probably the one-hundredth dirty look of the night.

“Well then.” You got off his lap and tugged on his arm. “I’d be happy to oblige.”

________________________________________________________________

Half an hour later, Steve returned a mess. The first few buttons of button up were undone, his hair was tousled, his cheeks flushed, and his heart hadn’t stopped racing.

“Good time?” Bucky inquired with a smirk.

Steve could barely form any words other than ‘where’s Sam’ to which Bucky pointed to the crowd of sweaty dancing bodies where Sam was shamelessly grinding on some woman.

“Oh God, I need a drink.” Steve fixed his hair with one hand while the other dipped into his pocket to retrieve a flask of Asgardian liquor Thor had given him.

“Was she that good?”

“Well yes, but it wasn’t just the dance. It was her,” Steve answered while burying his face in his hands. He felt like the scrawny kid from Brooklyn again. Completely flustered as he chased after a girl totally out of his league. “I don’t know Buck, she’s just-she’s just perfect.”

“Stevie, look around you. Every woman here is practically perfect. And they’re goddesses. That girl is just a girl.”

“No it’s just- you don’t understand. She’s just…” Steve let out an exasperated sigh and Bucky’s eyes softened.

“Wow you really like her don’t ya?” Steve just nodded in reply. “Well what if we came back again when she’s working?”

“No that wouldn’t work,” Steve said. “But...I think I have an idea.”

“And am I involved in this idea at all?”

“Maybe.” Steve laughed at his friend who groaned.

Steve then continued to explain his plan. He pointed out the coworker you had been friendly with when he first saw you, and asked Bucky to get some information out of her since he was the less recognizable out of the two. Steve needed to see you again. Not just that...he needed you. You were just so perfect for him, and Steve knew that the moment he laid eyes on you. The genuineness of your smile and laugh, just the way you were so authentic amidst your surroundings just showed you didn’t really belong in this environment or even this time period of imitation and phonies. But you belonged with him. And he’d preserve that authenticity.

Bucky just simply nodded, and at first Steve was nervous that his best friend was going to call him crazy, but after a bit, Bucky got up and snatched Steve’s flask while flashing him a grin.

“Bout time we got you a girl, huh pal?”

Steve sighed in relief, and as Bucky trotted off, he went to find Sam.

Steve explained to Sam that he was gonna go home while Bucky worked some “wingman magic” and Sam started letting out fits of laughter at how THE Captain America was ‘down bad’.

Finally, after Sam had finally calmed down, he wished him goodbye and headed home.

He had some things to take care of.

________________________________________________________________

As Steve guided his hand up and down his shaft, all he could think about was you.

Your tits, your ass that had ground on his crotch at the club, your red lips around he imagined on his cock. You’d probably use your skilled hands as well, not being able to fit his entire member into your mouth.

Steve’s thoughts didn’t stop there.

He thought about how your hips moved while in the private dance room. He thought about how although you were undeniably sexy, you were also so kind to him, once in a while asking if everything was okay and if he wanted anything else from you. He thought about how you simply smiled and let out your angelic laugh as Steve fumbled and stuttered, simply putting your hands over his and telling him everything was okay and he could sit back and relax, not having to take charge after a long day of commanding people. The light pink color of your lingerie was so beautifully innocent as your body moved lewdly in contrast. And he loved it.

Steve came with a shout to the image ingrained in his mind.

________________________________________________________________

A few minutes after Steve had cleaned up and taken a much needed cold shower, he received a call from Bucky.

“You’re right,” Bucky’s voice spoke through the phone. “Two drops of that Asgardian shit and she was completely mentally clocked out. Told me everything about your girl.”

As Bucky told Steve your name, Steve tried it out on his tongue for himself.

“Also told me a little bit of a little side job they got goin on. Your girl’s a bit of a criminal, Stevie. Sure you still want her?”

“I’m sure she has her reasons.”

“Well you’re right in that actually. According to...Bella-yeah I think that’s her name-,” Bucky recounted. “They steal from people to pay for rent and art school. And I just so happened to tell her about some skeevy old timer government worker who happened to be loaded from scamming low income taxpayers. Who also happens to live at your address.”

“Wait, you want her to rob me?!” Steve exclaimed.

“Will you just let me finish?” Bucky took Steve’s silence as an opportunity to continue. “I told Bella no one would be home while your girl does the job, but obviously you’ll be home so she can’t get away. She’s literally coming to you on a silver platter pal. Could it get any better than that?”

Steve took a moment to consider the situation before replying. “You’re right. Thanks pal. I really owe you one.”

Bucky chuckled. “Well I got one hell of a blow job so I’ll say we’re almost even. Anyway, she’ll be comin in a week, so that’ll give you plenty of time to prepare.”

_______________________________________________________________

You awoke slowly to sunlight streaming through your apartment window, your bed feeling more comfortable than usual, and a warm arm wrapped around your-

What the hell?

Your body thrashed as you jolted awake and flung yourself away from the body next to you in the bed that very much wasn’t yours in the apartment that was always not yours. Steve Rogers just sat up on his elbows and gave a groggy smile at your frazzled state.

“Mornin’ sweetheart.”

You recalled your memory, trying to see if this was some sort of drunken hookup, and it all came back to you. The heist, him coming home early.

“Didn’t mother ever tell you stealing is wrong?” were the words he had said before he had grabbed your hair in an iron grip and smashed your head on the near coffee table. Everything was black after that.

“Oh my God...you,” you began to back away from him.

“I what, sweetheart?” he mused. “Last time I checked, this is my apartment, and you were the one breaking and entering.”

You scrambled backwards off the bed, but just as you were about to reach the bedroom door, something cold and hard pulled against your ankle causing you to topple face first onto his carpet. Turning your head, you observed a metal cuff secured around your ankle with a chain leading back to the foot of the bed.

Steve used the time you took panicking and hyperventilating to get out of bed and leisurely stretch his arms as if this was a normal occurrence. He approached you cautiously as if you were a wild animal and bent down to softly cup your face with a large hand.

“It’s okay, doll, I didn’t hurt you. Just let you sleep a bit before I caught you up to speed today.”

“Did- did you…,” you sniffled at the thought of what that man could’ve done to you while you slept.

“No. God no!” You nerves calmed a little bit as you were reassured that America’s hero was still the gentlemanly golden boy you met at the club. That was before he tilted your chin to meet his sinister gaze. “I wanted our first time to be while you were awake.”

Your heart dropped. This man was crazy.

You began to frantically yank at the chain on your ankle and your breathing became shorter.

“Hey. Hey! Stop it!” he urged before grabbing both of your hands and holding them in a steel grip. “Listen. I know this is all..new...but you need me. And I need you. When I saw you at the club, you were just so perfect. You’re not like those other women. You don’t belong there. You don’t belong in this life. I can take care of you. I will take care of you.” A tear slipped from your eye at his words but he just brushed it away with his thumb and continued. “You just don’t understand yet. When I saw you, I just knew you were meant for me. You’re perfect, doll.”

All you did was stare at him in disbelief and mutter, “You’re crazy.”

He went to soothe you again and brush a lock of hair away from your face, but you thrashed and said it louder.

“You’re crazy, you’re fucking crazy!”

“Doll, you don’t understand. I love you. And you’ll love me. I promise just give it some time and-”

“No you’re deranged. You’re FUCKING DELIRIOUS!!” you screech as your hand shot out and slapped him across the cheek.

The room went dead silent. You froze, and so did he. You had just slapped Steve Rogers across the face. You slapped the pure muscle mass six foot super soldier and called him delirious, and he looked hurt. His face was painted with a heartbroken look of regret, disbelief, and sorrow. But not from the slap. It’s like your words had hit him like a ten-ton truck, and for a second you saw doubt flicker across his eyes as if realizing that everything he imagined was in his head. And in that doubt was your hope. Your hope that this man would come to his senses and let you go.

“Steve...please, you have to realize this is wrong,” you said softly as he gave you a broken look. In that look you saw the scrawny kid from Brooklyn in the 1940s who only knew rejection, and your heart broke just a little bit. “What you’re feeling...it isn’t love.”

All of a sudden his demeanor changed. Any doubt in his eyes was wiped away in a nanosecond and replaced by a fierce look of determination. His face contorted into a snarl as he yanked you up with him by your hair and spun you around to press your front against the well.

“You dumb bitch,” he growled into your ear. “You think you don't need me when you’re a pathetic thief who whores herself out every night.”

You writhed in his hold but he just gripped your hair harder and let out a breathy laugh.

“You know...for someone like you to stoop so low as to work at that club...it makes me think. You wanna be treated like a whore?” he seethed. “Fine. I’ll treat you like a whore.”

a/n: don’t worry I don’t think working at a strip club is “low” at all. just some classic sexist bs from our good old 1940′s fav

#dark!fic #dark!steve rogers #dark!steve x reader #steve rogers x reader

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raineydays411 · 3 years

Text

Oh, what am I supposed to do without you

Loki x daughter!reader

Summary: Loki thought he was in a good place. He was married, happy and having a child. He should’ve known the universe wasn’t that kind.

A/N: God I’m so sorry about this one lol. Not much of the reader but I will be making a second part. I hope yall like this one though. Inspiration came from “Mr, Loverman” and this fic.

Master list

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The silence was rattling. It creeped into the room, slowly,menacingly. Threatening to make him go mad. It wrapped around his body like a familiar friend. Making it hard for him to breath as it suffocated him. He knew they were staring at him. Trying to figure out what he would do next, whether he would break or not. Truthfully he didn’t know what he would do. For now he just starred as well. Not at them, of course not. He stared at the one thing that mattered. His reason for waking up and living. The one person in this entire universe who gave his world color. He reached out to touch her. Touch the hands that were always so warm against his cold skin. Hands that held his firm and sure as she pulled him along behind her, a smile on her beautiful face. Hands that were now cold and limp, the radicant glow she had been known for gone dark. The colors she brought to his world dimmed to dull, gre, muted hues. Then a sound broke through the silence. two sounds actually. One a wail of new life, a baby taking her first breaths, and another. A wail of a man who has lost everything. A wail of agony and pain.

As the healers bustled around him, Loki had only one thought in his head.

“What am I supposed to do without you”

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Three months later and Loki still felt the emptiness left by his love. He heard her at night, humming sweet melodies as she stroked his hair. He hears her heartbeat as he eventually falls asleep, worn out by his constant tears. His room is in shambles, his clothes strewn about the floor, furniture smashed, everything is destroyed. Except for the things that belong to her. Her silk dresses that draped on her body perfectly were still hanging, untouched. The books she spent hours reading and re-reading remained on the shelf, collecting dust as they were no longer used. He doesn’t let anyone in their chambers. The space where they both shared. Space where they fought, made up, made love. To let someone else in would be tainting it. Soiling the memories they made together. That was one thing he could never do.

Another was look at the little monster who is responsible for this tragedy.

It was a girl. The daughter of one Loki Odinson and his beloved.

Ironic. This child was supposed to bring happiness with its birth. Not even cleaned and it already managed to take away Loki’s light. He can barely stand looking at it. He tried, of course he tried. But within minutes he had to call the nurse to take it away. Why?

Because she has her mothers eyes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Loki”

“Get out”

“Loki, it's been nine months since your child was--”

“THAT THING IS NO CHILD OF MINE”

Frigga was taken aback. She knew her son was heartbroken, devastated at the loss of his wife. But to disown his daughter, that was something she didn’t see coming.

“Loki, you are being unreasonable.”

“Unreasonable? My wife has died because if that creature--”

“It is a child. A babe who has no idea who her father nor her mother is.”

“And as far as I’m concerned she never will!” Loki shouts, finally looking up at his mother.

Frigga heart breaks for her son. She sees the utter agony he is in, the inner torment going on in his soul. Even if she didn’t see it in his face, the state of his room and self gives it away. He looks like he hasn’t bathed in the nine months that has passed. His clothes were rumpled and wrinkled, hair unkempt and wild. His face was pale and hollow, as if he was only eating enough to survive. He had dark bags under his eyes that showed that he hasn’t been sleeping well. He truly was a man who was broken, almost beyond repair.

“My son” Frigga said carefully,” I can never understand the pain you are going through, I pray to Valhalla I will not have to anytime soon. But please if not for yourself or that child, for the memory of her, attempt to see your daughter before making a rash decision.” And with that, she walked out of his chamber, leaving Loki to the silence again as he stared at the spot his mother stood. considering her words, he got up. picked up his room, went to bathe and walked out of the room for the first time in nine months.

His face held no emotion as he walked down the hallways. He saw the servants stop and stare at him, shock filled their face as they saw the prince. He glared at them, sending them scurrying at the dark glance. He reached the nursery, the maid who oversaw the nursery tried to stop him.

“My lord, you--”

“Where is the child.” He said, calm and cool. The maid looked at him in fear, not knowing how to respond. At her silence, Loki scoffed and pushed her away, marching into the nursery. Upon entering he froze, memories of him and his beloved discussing the design they wanted for their child

**“Darling, why does the color shade matter? It’s not like the child has expectations.”

Laughter fills the air, “Loki, we must put every effort into showing our child they are loved. That includes finding the perfect shade of green to go with the room”

Loki looks at his wife, gently smiling.”If you say so my dear”**

The room was perfect. The walls were a beautiful shade of green that allowed the light into the room. There were vines and flowers crawling up the walls and draped over curtains. A white and gold crib stood in the middle of the chamber. A veil draped over it, preventing Loki from seeing the child inside. He was thankful as he worked up the courage to walk up to it. He looked out the window, seeing the stars that covered the sky, the lights of Asgard covering the earth.

She would have loved it.

He took a deep breath and walked toward the crib. He pulled back the veil only to see that there was no child in there.

“The babe is with your mother my lord.”

He turned to the maid. Embarrassed that she might have witnessed him reminiscing.

“And where is my mother” He asked

“In-in the dining hal--”

He walked away before she was able to finish her sentence. He took long strides to the hall, wondering his his mother had tricked him into eating with the family.On the way, he passed a window overlooking the garden. He thinks of the times where he used to sit in it and listen to her read.

*** “...exquisite, in question more. These happy masks that kiss fair ladies’ brows”

“My love, why do you insist on reading these midgardian stories?”

Her laughter reaches his ears, “Because beloved, it's a different perspective to something familiar”

“Oh? and what is that ?”

“Love” ***

“oki--”

Hearing his name, Loki is brought back to present times once more. He looks to see Thor, watching him with careful eyes.

“Brother, it is wonderful to see you.”

“I wish I can say the same.”

Thor laughs, a soft chuckle compared to the booming laughter Loki knows he is capable of.

“Ah Loki, your dry wit has been missed”

Loki rolls his eyes and starts walking and Thor follows. The two walking in silence.

“What is it like?” Loki says softly. Thor looks at him in confusion.

“It?”

“The child.”

“Oh brother, Y/n is--”

“Y/n?”

That was the name she wanted. If they were to have a girl. She was determined, seeing the name in the book she loved to read. He remembers when they were telling his family she was with child.

*** Everyone was seated, servants bustling around the long table. Laughter filled the hall as the sun was setting.

“Loki, you said you had news to tell us” Frigga said, taking a sip of her wine.

Loki smiled, looking at his wife. Her face absolutely radiant as she flashes a smile of pure joy.

“ Well,” Loki waits till Thor has taken a large swig of ale, “ My beloved and are are expecting a child.”

Gasps fill the room as well as Thor's hacking, ale being spewed on the table.

“Oh Loki that is wonderful!!” Frigga exclaims standing from her seat to embrace him. “Oh my dear, this is the most wonderous news,”

“BROTHER I can’t believe it!” Thor exclaims, lifting Loki in a crushing hug. And for once, he didn’t mind it. He turns to her and hugs her more gently. “ You are just full of surprises aren’t you, starlight”

Laughter, “Thor, I thought I told you to stop calling me that”

Silence fills the hall as Odin clears his throat, “ Loki, you have made me proud.”

Loki smiles as his love beams at him.

“Thank you father.”**

They reached the dining hall. A cold feeling formed in the pits of his stomach. He can see his mother, talking with a maid as she bounces the child. He can’t see it, as Frigga's back is turned to him. Odin’s presence is notably absent, a small relief on Loki's part.

Thor notices his brother’s nerves, he pats him on the back and says, “You can do this Loki.” Then walks off to join his mother. He kisses his mothers cheek and smiles at the child. He picks her up, bouncing her a few times prompting a small laugh. Loki gimances at the sound.

Thor walks up to him with the baby.

“Loki, this is Y/n Odinson”

He looks at the child. He takes in its features, Beautiful curly hair, already thick and voluminous even at this age. Brown skin, unblemished and clean. Cheeks, chubby with baby fat. And...its eyes. Those damn eyes, he could barely stand it, (e/c) eyes, the same as his lost love. In fact, almost all it’s features that once belonged to his darling. A pain filled his body. He really couldn’t stand looking at this child.

Not when his beloved wasn’t there to gaze upon their child as well.

No, this was not his child. Not anymore.

“Get rid of it.”

Shock filled the faces of both Thor and Frigga.

“Loki you cannot be serious.”

“Brother..”

“I SAID GET RID OF IT” Loki shouts. “I DO NOT WANT TO SEE THAT LITTLE MONSTER.”

And with that he leaves the dining hall. Leaving behind his mother, brother and the last piece of his wife he had. He hears it’s cries fill the silence.

He had only one thought in his head as he entered his chambers.

“What am I supposed to do without you”

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#loki x daughter!reader #loki x reader #loki laufeyson #marvel x reader #thor x reader #thor odinson #loki imagine #angst #fanfic #mcu loki #mcu imagine #tom hiddleston #poc #poc reader #reader insert #Loki x poc!reader

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im-juggling-fandoms · 3 years

Text

She never learns, does she?

A Resident Evil fanfic of reader who is a former lover of Albert Wesker but is now on the run from him when she discovered his involvement in the Raccoon City incident. She is terrified of him and what he’s capable of and at the same time angry with herself for not being capable to suppress her feelings towards the man. She’s also determined that he is obsessed with her, it doesn’t matter where she hides, he always finds her and he just won’t stop. So far, reader has been lucky to get away just in time before his arrival. This time, she’s taken by surprise.

Rated mature. 18+ for language, deaths and sexual content.

Long time no see, dear heart..

It has been three years, four months and seven days since the last time Y/N felt herself at home. Now, the closest thing she got to feel like home was the people she surrendered herself with. The people who gave up their own lives to make sure of your safety. What would you have done without their sacrifices? You didn’t need much time to think over the possibilities. You knew you would’ve been dead.

You were a loose end that knew too damn much and Albert wouldn’t stop until he silenced you for good.

After all these years, it still hurt you. The two of you once shared everything together. Or so, you thought. One day you had stumbled upon his underground laboratory that had been hidden from your view for two years behind a massive mahogany bookcase. You found his research, you found an entire life he had been living in a city called Raccoon City not far from where you had built up your life. You found everything. It terrified you how gullible you had been about everything. You believed him when he said he was working at the bank downtown, why wouldn’t you?

It was all a lie. He had been creating horrific viruses and killing people to the left and right before he came home to your bed and ravished your body with his.

It made you sick.

But it made you hurt even more.

You kind of liked the little bed and breakfast you had been calling home for three days now who had an incredible view of the Swiss mountains from your room. It was peaceful and the landscape alone made you hope for a brighter future. Maybe you could finally settle down? It surely would help your mental state to have some peace and quiet. Well, it had been quiet for you and your friends for several weeks now and they told you over and over again not to let your guard down but you just couldn’t help yourself as you peeked over to your sleeping friends before you turned back to the window you where standing in front of. The sun made its way up over the mountains and it cast such a mesmerizing view over the little village. You knew you should be careful but you really wanted to go outside by yourself, if only for a few minutes.

You put your coat over your red nightgown and the silk was so smooth to your skin it almost felt like you were naked underneath.

Before you exited, you made sure to at least pack a gun into your hip holster. You hurried out, careful not to make any sound when closing the door behind you. There was a small hallway with a few rooms and a long stairwell leading down to the lobby. You walked with your hands in your pockets as you exited the B&B and felt the cool spring wind kiss your face. This, this was exactly what you had been needing, some peace and quiet.

You took a stroll around the village that began to wake up. You took in every smell, every sound.. it almost felt as you were vibrating.

Wait

You put your hand in your pocket and retrieved your phone who was buzzing like crazy.

Jeez.. you thought, you hadn’t been out more than maybe a little over ten minutes and Jessica was already buzzing up your phone.

Where the hell are you? Come back right now! You know we don’t go anywhere alone! She wrote.

Jesus Christ, Y/N! What are you thinking?! Jared wrote you.

You couldn’t help but feel ashamed and guilty. What where you thinking? These people had offered everything to go underground with you and yet, you jeopardize everything by taking a goddamned stroll..

You sighed loudly and turned your little stroll back to the B&B. As you walked hurriedly, you went over in your head the best way to explain to your friends why you went out but every outcome was the same. It made you sound stuck up and ungrateful. You decided it was for the best to just apologize and own your mistake. You told yourself that you would promise them to never do anything like this ever again and you meant it.

The lady at the front desk was sitting with her back towards you as you entered the lobby. You wondered if you should bid her good morning but she seemed devoured in that book of hers so you decided to just leave her be. You walked past her but something in the corner of your eye made you stop in your tracks immediately.

You turned your head slowly in her direction and what you feared the most, became reality.

She wasn’t devoured in a book as it first had seemed. She was lying with her face into the open book. The pages that once must’ve been white was colored red and she was as still as a statue.

You grabbed your gun from your holster and called out for your friends to come downstairs as you walked towards the dead woman.

It was as quiet as a graveyard.

Nothing.

A not in your stomach began to build and you abandoned the dead woman and bolted up the stairs as fast as you possibly could and kicked the door to your room open, only to reveal it abandoned.

You began to panic. Where the hell where your friends? It couldn’t have been more than five minutes ago they blew up your phone.

Maybe they got so worried that they decided to go out and look for you? Maybe they had found the woman at the front desk and was at the police station? You had to find them.

You walked down the stairs once again, this time the peace you earlier felt was long gone. When you rounded the crook of the stairwell you completely froze. This time, you literally could feel the ice slithering up your spine.

Albert sat down in one of the armchairs that faced the stairwell, his face were stoic and calm and he had one of his legs over the other which made him look like he was waiting for someone.

He’s waiting for you.

You knew that your gun couldn’t do him any harm. Jared had fired multiple shots at him three years ago during our time in Japan but Albert had dodged every single bullet like he was some kind of a super human. You where lucky you got out of there alive. That was the last time he got this close as he was now.

Your insides were in raging, burning agony. You were so terrified that you trembled but at the same time, your heart hurt with the memories of your love years ago.

“Long time, no see, dear heart.” He spoke and you had forgotten about what a velvety voice that man possessed. Every word rolled of his tongue with absolute expertise. You wouldn’t let him fog up your brain anymore so you stood tall, the gun in your hand pointed directly at his beautiful face even though you knew it was useless, you wouldn’t let him think you would give up so easily.

“Where are my friends, Albert?” You asked. Your hand which held the gun were shaking and you tried to steady it the best you could but to no avail. You were so scared and it was displayed openly for him to see.

Before you could even register that it had happened, Albert had got up from the armchair and made his way over to you. You have no idea how he did it but he had managed to do it in shorter than a second. Now, he stood towering before you, mere inches between the two of you. He was so close that you could inhale his scent. The scent that you had forgot made its way up your nostrils and an raging battle began taking form inside of you. A part of you wanted to run, as far away as you could from this monster of a man or whatever the hell he was and the other part wanted to forget everything that has happened over the years and pull him in for one of those kisses that made your mind all foggy.

You looked up at him hesitantly, his sunglasses was covering his eyes, covering those magical light greys you so well remembered. The eyes you spend so many nights gazing into while you were making sweet love to each other. You didn’t need to see them to have all of those memories pool into your mind immediately, his presence did it all.

He grabbed your wrist of the hand that held the gun and you tried to make him let go of you but he was so strong that it barely even phased him. Without any trouble on his behalf, he took the gun out of your trembling hand and tossed it carelessly to the side.

“Where are my friends?” You tried again, this time your voice broke mid-sentence and you could feel the tears burning behind your eyes, threatening to break free and make you look even smaller than you already did.

“Three years, Y/N.” He began without any hint of emotions in his velvety voice, “You had me turning upside down on half the world for three years.” He finally stated.

“Just let them go, Albert, it’s me you want, isn’t it? They-“ you began sobbing, “They don’t know anything, I swear!” You exclaimed.

He pushed you up against the wall of the stairwell with his hands firmly on yours above your head. He leaned in closer to your tear filled face, so close that you felt his breath ghost over your skin ever so lightly.

“Don’t lie to me, Y/N.”

“I’m not lying, they don’t know anything about-“ you began hysterically but was cut off as he pushed you deeper into the wall and it made your backside ache profusely.

“Don’t. Lie. To. Me.” He pronounced every word with spitting venom. Now, you could feel how angry he was with you. The stoicism from before was a good act, you thought.

“Please, don’t hurt them.” You begged. “Do whatever you want with me but please, just let them go. They won’t tell anyone anything, I am sure of it. I can make them promise to not say anything to anyone! Please!” You were desperate. Every passing minute could mean that your friends lives were closer to an end and you had to do everything you could to help them. Just as they had helped you.

He chuckled.

You looked up at him in confusion under your wet eyelashes, the tears blurring your vision ever so slightly.

“I am not interested in making conversation about your little friends.” He spoke up sternly before he lightened the hold he had on you. You were still pushed up against the wall but it hurt less than it did before.

“I just need to know they’re okay.” Your voice were merely above an whisper.

“They are, for now.” Albert confirmed. Jesus Christ, he was too damn close to you. You could see every little pore in his skin, his scent filled you up like a balloon that was going to pop any second. You knew that he was going to kill you and you felt nowhere near being ready to die but his mere presence awoke something inside of you. The thing that you had been trying to bury deep, deep within. The undeniably eternal love you felt for him with the strength of a thousand elephants. It was blind and it was more forgiving than it was wise. It was so intense it made your skin burn and your insides too, you felt like a hot burning mess. It almost felt unnatural. Mainly because of what it did to you. You had never felt this with anyone else, not ever. It felt like you belonged together. You still knew better, though. Hence why you left and had been on the run for years.

You felt weak and tired. All of this, all of these years had made you so tired. You just wanted it to stop. You were done. There was no use to try and fight him, he was way too strong now. It’ll only make you end up dying in more pain than necessary and you felt obligated to save yourself from that.

“Just get it over with. For old time’s sake, make it quick.” You said, your voice was on the verge of a new wave of tears but you managed to keep them at bay.

His hands let go off yours and you felt his body leave yours, the warmth disappearing by the second. You closed your eyes, ready for the fatal strike.

It never came.

You held your eyes closed for what felt like minutes but nothing happened.

You battle with yourself if you would dare to open them and see what was going on and after a while, you decided that you had to.

He was just standing there, a feet or so from you, with his back against you. His gloved hands were clasped neatly behind his straight back and it appeared as if he was in deep thought. You could tell that, even with his back to you. It was your bond that told you.

Should you try to run?

No.

You wouldn’t get far and you were so tired of this cat and mouse bullshit.

You just wanted it to end.

“Albert, please..” you softly spoke, almost begging him to put you out of your misery.

“You never learn, do you?” He said as he turned to you.

Your confused expression spoke for you and he smirked hastily.

“If I wanted you dead, you wouldn’t be standing here after all this time.”

You felt weak, confused and at the same time irritated. It felt as if you were back at square one. You had been running for your life only because you sincerely thought that he wanted to end it. All of the ruckus he had been making hadn’t exactly told you otherwise but it was true now when you actually thought about it, you had never once been harmed under these 3 years. All of your friends had been but never you.

“What do you want, Albert?”

“Isn’t it perfectly clear what I want, Y/N?”

You gave him a sour look. It really wasn’t. With all the information you now had on him, you had come to learn that he wasn’t that quiet but passionate lover you once thought you were dealing with. You’ve come to know that he was a sociopath and was capable to do about anything to preserve his goal which seemed to be collecting viruses from around the globe. You didn’t want to know what he was planning to do with them.

“Dear heart,” he began, that smirk upon his face for a few seconds before he continued, “I want what’s mine. I want you.”

If you thought you were confused before, it was nothing compared to what was going on inside your head right now.

“But you, you almost-You sent fucking mercenaries after us! You bombed one of the houses we were inside of, we just barely got out in time!” You fumed, your hand gesturing angrily with every word.

“You left without a word, Y/N, it made me very angry.”

“Oh, it made you angry?” You spat at him, every fear and tremble as blown away. “It made me angry when I found out you were a fucking liar! And not to mention a full blown psychopath!”

He briskly walked over to you and grabbed you by the shoulders roughly.

“You watch that tongue with me, Y/N, before I change my mind.”

“I’m done with these games, Albert! I’m done! Just get it over with, I can’t bear another second with this.” You said, refusing to face him. His face made you want to jump him right here right now. Your hormones were going crazy and you were equally angry as you were a hot, horny mess. The last time you orgasmed by another hand than yours was with Albert. You still remember it as if it was yesterday..

You had been slow cooking some fancy meat on the stove and had some baked potatoes filled with cheese and paprika in the oven. You were working on a side salad when he entered the kitchen freshly showered in nothing but a towel around his waist. He began kissing your neck and one thing led to another and before you knew it, you were sprawled out on one of the counters with his head between your legs, his tongue skillfully massaging your little bundle of nerves while two of his fingers were massaging the inside of your pussy and it didn’t take long before you clenched down on his fingers with a loud moan.

You needed to get your head straight. You couldn’t be thinking about things like that right now. You could literally feel the wetness pouring out of you.

“Hmm...” he hummed with a smirk. You couldn’t see his eyes but you felt how intense they were ravaging you right now.

“I can smell you.” He said, that damn smirk still plastered on his beautiful features. “You are aching for me Y/N, aren’t you?”

“No,” you said hastily, “Absolutely not.”

“Oh, yes you are.” Albert took one of his gloved hands to his face and removed the glove with his pearly white teeth. His naked hand snaked between your exposed legs and traveled up to your clothed pussy. You should slap him right across the face for taking such freedom to touch you like this and yet, you couldn’t do anything. You just stood there, looking up into his face, as if to get some reassuring that this wasn’t as wrong as it actually was.

He didn’t waste any time, he ripped the cloth from your skin with a growl. It probably would’ve stung your sensitive skin if it wasn’t for your arousal. You were dripping and you were desperately longing for the man that you deep down knew was the love of your life.

You grabbed his face with your soft hands and you tried to pull him into a kiss but he wouldn’t succumb to your wishes. He simply undid his belt, opened his trousers and pulled them down to his knees to reveal that he was already hard. You mouth watered and your pussy ached painfully at the sight of his cock. The same exact cock that you had been fantasizing about every time you pleased yourself nowadays.

Albert pushed you once again against the wall of the stairwell but this time he lifted you up as well with his hands at your hips. He didn’t leave you any time to comprehend a single thing, he buried himself to the hilt into your tight, wet cave with a deep, deep groan. It sounded as he had been holding that inside of him for a very long time. You, on the other hand moaned out loudly for everyone to hear as the two of you finally were connected as one.

You had almost forgotten about how good he actually was in bed but all of that came right back to you as he demonstrated his skills by pounding into you evenly, he squeezed your soft hips with every movement.

You clawed desperately at the fabric on his chest as he pounded roughly into you. You didn’t mind him being a little rough, it were a long time since you last made love and if he was anywhere close to as desperate and aroused as you were, he probably couldn’t contain himself.

“Oh, Albert..” you moaned as a wave of pure pleasure washed over you, “I’ve missed you so much.” You confessed openly.

He didn’t answer.

Sure, he was a man of few words but he would always praise you and shower you with affection while making love, now he was all quiet except a grunt here and there.

It was extremely hard for you to get anything from his eyes since those sunglasses covered them and left you to look at your own reflection instead. You had no idea what he felt right now and it made you wary.

You reached for his glasses and removed them as best as you could while he was pounding into you tirelessly. What met you behind those glasses was nothing you were prepared for.

His light grey eyes were a distant memory and now replaced with the eyes of a demon. Red swam around tight slits and you almost didn’t believe what you were seeing. This wasn’t the Albert you remembered.

He was angry. So, so angry. You could feel it vibrating from his furious eyes.

You should be frightened, you should’ve ran away from him but something inside of you made you remain in place with nothing but shame for what you had done to the man you loved.

You had hurt him. You had most likely broken his heart by leaving him without so much as a letter. You had done this to him, you thought.

“I’m so sorry, baby.” You said, tears forming in your eyes as you leaned your forehead against his.

“You are mine.” He growled back,

“Yes.” You nodded in agreement.

“You will never betray me ever again.” Behind his anger you could detect the pain, the pain that you were responsible for.

“Never, baby, never. I’ve been so foolish.”

He slowed down his ministrations and captured your lips with his, the kiss became desperate very quickly, both of your tongues massaging each other in your mouths. You tugged at the locks at the back of his neck as you moaned into the kiss, giving yourself over to him completely.

You were still kissing passionately as he fucked you, and you knew that if he kept moving his hips like that together with his hot, wet mouth, you weren’t going to last very long.

You knew that he also knew.

Your legs began to shake from the intense, burning pleasure between your legs, your nails found his neck where you scratched helplessly as moan after moan escaped your lips.

Albert kissed your face and then went over to your neck affectionely, humming while doing so. Never breaking the rhythm in his thrusts.

“I’m-, I’m so close..” your voice were raspy and low, “Oh god, Albert..”

“That’s it, my sweet” he huskily whispered in your ear before he kissed the curve of your ear, “Come for me..”

You did so, your legs shaking with the same intensity as your screams that left your lips as you rode out the exquisite orgasm eagerly. Every fiber of your body felt as if it was on fire and you couldn’t do anything besides moaning and holding him tightly to you, afraid that he might disappear if you didn’t.

The orgasm left you weak to the bones but Albert didn’t let you rest. He withdrew himself from inside you and lead you upstairs, into the first room that was in sight.

Albert undressed the rest of your clothing and laid you down on the bed softly and positioned himself between your legs, this time with his face.

The first contact with his lips and tongue to your pussy made you moan out with eyes closed, your fingers finding their way down your stomach and onto his blonde locks.

This was one of the best things you know and you’ve been longing for it for three years, it didn’t matter that you had just had an orgasm minutes ago, because when he began using his fingers on you and sucking your clit between his delicate lips, you came undone for the second time today.

He kissed your thighs feathery light and traveled up your now naked body. He kissed and licked every inch of skin on your torso, your breasts he sucked and licked softly, which earned him a moan from you.

He crawled on top of you and spread your legs a little wider for the comfort of both of you. You wasn’t satisfied just yet, though.

“Please, remove your clothes.” You said, looking deeply into his red swirls. “I want to feel you on my skin. I’ve longed so for you, my love.”

He hesitated for a moment but complied to your request and removed his clothes in a blur, it didn’t take more than a few seconds before he was in between your legs again, now in his full naked glory.

You trailed your hands down his hard chest and down his hard washboard abs. You sighed deeply in fulfillment when he entered you once again.

He held you possessively by the neck as he was thrusting into you, his face mere inches from yours as your eyes were locked in each other’s gazes. You had your arms around his back, because you wanted to get as close to him as you possibly could.

You shared a few kisses as the love making grew hotter and closer to the edge for the both of you. It gave you such immense pleasure to see his own pleasure in those eyes of his. You wanted him to feel good, to unwrap himself completely inside of you.

The connection the two of you shared only made the sex even better, more intense than any sex you’ve ever had with anyone else. You didn’t only shared each other’s bodies but each other’s minds and souls as well. He didn’t need to tell you that he loved you, you could feel it with every kiss, every thrust, every single touch he laid upon you. It was magical and brought you straight over the edge for the third time, you were a moaning mess and you chanted over and over again how much you loved him. It didn’t take long after your release for him to find his own. With a deep grunt he filled you up right to the hilt but he remained inside of you just for a little longer.

You shared each other’s lips, and you caressed each other’s faces softly, lovingly.

“If you ever do something like this again, I’m going to have to kill you, Y/N.” He spoke softly but gravely.

“I know.” You responded as you kissed him on his forehead.

You knew that he wouldn’t forgive you a second time. You still had some questions you wanted answers to but you had already decided to stop fighting him. You loved each other, deeply and eternally. That’s all that matters to you. At least for now.

#resident evil #albertwesker #albert wesker #resident evil fanfic #smut #wesker x reader #resident evil smut

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ev-pierce-writes · 3 years

Text

Quantum Entanglement

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader

Words: 6.4k (oops)

Rating: 18+ (get outta here ya children)

Summary: Steve Rogers decides to disappear, take some time for himself in the solitude of a small town where he meets you.

Warnings: p in v. oral fem receiving. size kink (reader is much smaller than Steve in more ways than one). soft (very very soft) fem dom.

AN: This is stupid soft. Just simping all over the gd place. I'm so sorry but my baby Steve deserves nothing but the purest, sweetest form of love and that's what he's getting, though I imagine he likes to be ordered around. Took me way too long to feel good about this.

---

There had been the snap. And then the resurrection. Steve had lost everyone he loved and then had most of them returned, and it felt good to go back to normal, in some ways. In other ways, it was stifling.

As the world reeled and tried to figure out how to "be normal" in a time that was anything but, normalcy felt forced, rushed, exaggerated. He wanted to be in this world, of course. The 1940s were no longer his home, and Steve had everything he wanted here. But he didn't feel complete. A piece was always missing, something from a past life, that he couldn't quite name but knew he had to find.

So he disappeared. Went undercover as some might call it. Bucky knew, of course, and Sam on some level. But to the rest of the world, he had slipped quietly back into the past to live the rest of his life. In reality, he'd slipped into Herrington, Massachusetts, a small coastal town where he was invisible to the world.

He'd found a little house, a cottage on the beach, and settled in completely. He didn't need a job, the government was more than willing to pay him a severance check of some sort, but he took one anyway, stocking the local grocery store and delivering groceries to the elderly when they ordered. It was just antiquated enough to remind him of a faraway time, of the past, but didn't force him to give up his wifi and color television. That was something he'd come to love.

And that was where he met you. You, the petite spitfire with a bone to pick with the entire world. Fierce, loyal, and slightly terrifying when double-crossed. The first time he met you, you had come out of your great-aunt's house shaking a fist over the groceries.

"I told Mr. Pierce," you were yelling, "not to skimp me on the meat." Mr. Pierce was the grocery store owner. And the meat in question was a roast, for what purpose, Steve wasn't sure, but one that apparently did not satisfy your desires.

You hadn't been the one to answer the door, that was your great-aunt Agnes, a kind, leather-faced woman who liked to tip Steve a healthy amount for "carrying all those heavy groceries for a silly old lady like me."

"It's no problem ma'am," he'd replied and stepped back toward his motorcycle, recently decked out with a basket on the back to transport deliveries. Then you'd chased him down the road until he noticed you and stopped, shouting all the way.

"When you see him," you said, your finger wagging in his face, puffing and out of breath from your yelling and running, "tell the bastard that's the last time he gets away with making me pay for his shitty cuts of meat."

Steve didn't really know what to say, but then your face softened, your voice calmed, and you took a deep breath. Maybe the panicked look on his face had made you have a change of heart. "I apologize for yelling at you, I know you're just the messenger. But that slimy son-of-a-bitch is going to get what's coming for him someday."

"I'll let him know," Steve replied with half a smile on his face.

"You aren't from around here are you?" you had asked, a sudden look of curiosity in your bright eyes.

Steve nodded. "Just moved here."

"Look, I'm really sorry." You stuck out your hand and introduced yourself, and Steve had found that hand to be surprisingly supple and calloused for its tiny size. "Let me make it up to you. Aunt Agnes seems to like you. We're having a potluck tonight, her place. Why don't you come by and meet the neighbors? I'm sure they'd love a new face, especially one as handsome and friendly as yours. Maybe make some friends, even."

You were being surprisingly friendly and sincere, and Steve had no choice but to accept the invitation.

So that's how he ended up in an old lady's backyard, handing off a bowl of his mother's jello salad (it was a potluck after all), and accepting a beer from a man who looked similar enough to be your brother (a cousin, it turned out). You didn't even notice his arrival, flying about, getting everything set up, taking part in the appropriate amount of small talk. Earlier, when you'd chased Steve down the road, your hair had been flung all about your head, wisps of it sticking out from all directions and looking positively a mess. You'd been wearing jeans with mud on the knees and a t-shirt that had more holes than necessary for your arms and head. Now, your hair was pinned back and tamed and you floated about in a soft blue sundress, revealing a delicate plane of skin across your shoulders and tan arms and legs.

The calloused hands and muddy jeans made sense now as well. The backyard of Aunt Agnes' house was primarily a garden, not only beautiful rose bushes and creeping wisteria but rows and rows of fruits and vegetables, cucumbers, tomatoes, watermelon, strawberries. The work was obviously the product of a talented gardener.

Aunt Agnes was the one to welcome him in, having noticed Steve before you did and taking his arm. She began to talk, of you and the neighborhood and her many, many family members. She introduced them one by one, though most of the names he immediately forgot. But it was a blessing to not be recognized and he relished the feeling. Sure, he'd grown out his beard and his hair was a bit longer than the standard military high and tight, and he wore a flannel with the sleeves rolled up instead of red, white, and blue spangles, but it still amazed him that he could pass through the world like this.

Eventually, the conversations became too much, and Steve excused himself to the kitchen to find a drink while he waited for the food to be ready. Really he just wanted some silence, a relief from society. But you'd beat him there, and, ever the busy bee, were scrambling to fill a cooler with more ice.

"Steve!" you exclaimed when you saw him, pleasant surprise plastered across your face. "I'm so glad you came."

You reached out and gave him a hug that took Steve so much by surprise he almost forgot to return it. It was shockingly warm, your arms around his neck, and though he had to stoop down to your level, he wrapped his arms around your waist anyways.

"I hope they didn't overwhelm you out there. My family can be a lot."

"No, not at all. Just needed some quiet. I'll let you get back to work."

"I could actually use your help if you don't mind."

You directed him into the front room toward a stack of boxes, cases of drinks he assumed. When Steve returned to the kitchen, all four boxes piled in his arms, you nearly dropped the glasses in your hands in shock. You recovered quickly, trying to remain polite despite your poorly hidden astonishment, but Steve could already tell you were trying to compute how he had managed to carry over a hundred pounds of drinks in one go.

"You can, um, put them on the counter I guess," you managed to stutter out. Your sudden flustered state was amusing, and Steve noticed he liked the way you seemed almost embarrassed, cheeks flushed pink, though he had no idea why you should feel that way.

But then you picked back up with your normal bubbly chatter, and Steve found himself lingering longer and longer in the kitchen with you until he realized neither of you were doing anything but talking, the work abandoned in lieu of discussions about the town, your stall at the farmers market, and eventually, very naturally, the passing of your parents. The slip into deep conversation was easy, surprisingly easy, easier than it had ever been with anyone else, even though Steve felt himself having to lie a bit about his past. Sure, he could admit to being from Brooklyn and having no family and his stint in the military, but that was about the extent of it. He found himself wanting to tell you more but refraining.

When your cousin called that food was ready from the backyard, the jolt back to reality was abrupt and almost unwelcome, until you smiled and allowed him to put a hand on your back, pulling Steve out to enjoy some food.

As night fell, lights twinkled on in the backyard, and the summer heat reduced to a light thrum as the breeze from the ocean swept through the town. Fireflies glowed in the darkness of the low trees behind the house and you seemed to glow as well, good food and friendly conversation lighting your face up with joy. You caught Steve's eye several times during the night, noticing him watching you from across the garden, but he didn't care. He liked that his attention made you smile.

Finally, the party began to dwindle, as parents with young kids trickled out, followed by the older folks, heading off to bed. Soon, even Aunt Agnes turned in and only the cousins close to you in age remained. They pulled out the stronger bottles of alcohol, sitting in plastic chairs and passing shots around the barbeque that still glowed hot with coals. Steve accepted every pass of vodka that came his way, despite knowing it wouldn't get him even remotely drunk. But the camaraderie of the moment helped ease a bit of that gaping hole in his soul so he clung to it as best he could. And you were sitting next to him, insisting he take a sip, and again he couldn't turn you down.

"And then Jack nearly sunk the boat in the bay," you were saying, telling the story of one of your cousin's finer moments. "Your dad almost killed us."

"Oh you want to bring that up?" he teased. "How about the time you snuck out and Aunt Agnes caught you making out with Michael on the beach."

You blushed bright red at the reminder but protested that was years ago. Then another cousin brought up his own late-night escapades and you devolved into a fit of giggles, leaning so far out of your chair that Steve had to catch you before you slipped right to the ground. Your hand gripped his to recover but, to his surprise, you never removed it, even as you righted yourself in your seat. Your hand just remained in his, your small fingers wrapped in his large ones, as you turned to pester him into telling a story.

"What about you Steve? Tell us an embarrassing story."

He looked around at the group and they leaned in expectantly, curious to know more about the stranger who was quickly becoming a friend. Steve didn't know what to say, most of his stories involving things he wasn't yet ready to reveal about himself. So he picked one from long ago.

"I once picked a fight with a guy at a bar. He was a bit of a Nazi. Got my ass kicked. Fortunately, I had a friend to back me up or he definitely would have killed me."

Everyone looked shocked. "But you're so strong," someone spoke up. "Look at you. How could anyone beat you in a fight?"

Steve shrugged, not wanting to admit to it being a pre-serum story. "Guess I'm a bit of a pacifist."

He turned to you to gauge your reaction. Your eyes were wide, sparkling with mischief and curiosity and a hint of disbelief. For a moment Steve thought you had figured it out, figured out who he was, but then you started giggling again and the only thing keeping you in your seat was his hand in yours.

"That's not embarrassing Steve, that's just the most fucking noble thing I've ever heard. Making us all look bad."

Your teasing words made his heart flutter in his chest and he felt like he could get used to this crowd.

Eventually, the coals of the barbeque started to wink out, and the cousins excused themselves for the night, heading home on foot to the various houses they had come from. It seemed no one lived too far apart in this town. Suddenly, the backyard was quiet.

"Can I give you a hand cleaning up?" Steve asked, not wanting to leave you with the job that looked a bit overwhelming to him.

You looked around and shrugged, a little tipsy but fully aware that it was a big mess. "I'll probably just take care of it in the morning. Can you just help me get the dishes inside?"

Steve obediently gathered up plates and cups, filling the dishwasher in several trips. Finally, the last were inside and you stood in the kitchen filling the sink to wash the pots and pans while Steve tried awkwardly to find a way to say goodbye.

"Um, thank you," he said at last, "for welcoming me into your community. It means a lot. I'll, uh, see you later I guess. Have a good night."

You stopped your scrubbing to look up at him, bubbles up to your elbows, your face flushed from the warm night air and the alcohol.

"Steve?"

"Yeah?"

You paused, hesitant, eyes searching his face for confirmation of a mutual feeling. "Do you ever feel like you were meant to meet someone? For a reason?"

The question hit him like a ton of bricks, and he realized that this night had made him feel exactly that way, that somehow he was meant to end up here and meet you, of all people. Why else had there been an instant connection unless this was just the way you were with everyone?

But your question made him think otherwise. You had to be special. Steve, in that moment, could do nothing but nod in affirmation. And then, like you had both had the same thought at the same moment, you were meeting him halfway, rising on your tiptoes, wrapping your arms around his neck, and kissing him. Really, truly, kissing him.

It was like that missing piece had found itself. You slotted your soul into his and Steve was pressing you to his chest, wrapping his arms around you, and lifting you so he didn't have to bend down to reach you. Your wet hands tangled into his slightly too long hair, pulling him impossibly closer, tasting one another's tongues.

And that was the start of it, of late-night motorcycle rides down the causeway, of Saturdays spent on the beach that tapered into drinks with friends, of dinners filled with your chatter and smiles and laughter, and Steve couldn't believe how lucky he was. He was not used to this feeling, of building friendship and companionship and perhaps even love. And he certainly wasn't used to the intense desire to reach out and pinch your ass every time you showed up at his house wearing those gardening jeans, high-waisted and tight and so goddamn cute.

But he never did, was never sure how you'd react. You kissed him, a lot in fact, every morning that he came over and every night that he dropped you off at home. And you never shied away from telling him how handsome he was, how much you liked his hands and his arms and his short beard, how sweet he was and kind and soft and gentle. So many words, words that made his head spin and his world wobble and sway. But it never came to be more than that, never late at night when he was thinking of you most. And oh lord, did he think about you, how your small frame might fit against his in bed while you spooned and slept, or how tight you'd be if he fucked you until the sun rose. He didn't particularly like sleeping in bed, it was too soft for his taste and he tended to take the couch or even the floor most nights, but he would sleep in bed for you if you would just tell him that was what you wanted.

It was like you were waiting for the right moment. And apparently, that moment was July 4th, during the annual celebration. Steve had whispered to you that it was consequently also his birthday, and had begged you to keep that a secret, but it seemed you had simply forgotten the fact entirely. The day passed without mention that Steve was turning 39 (105 if he'd been really counting) and you kissed him as the fireworks exploded over the ocean, sitting in the sand, hands tangled together. He thought the two of you would sit through the show, but then you were standing and pulling him to his feet as well and slipping away as everyone else's faces were turned to the sky.

At your house, you pulled a small cake from the fridge, just big enough to split between two people, and lit a couple of candles as you sat next to him at the kitchen table. Of course, you hadn't forgotten.

"Make a wish," you said with a happy smile. So he did, hoping this summer would never end. "What did you wish for?"

"Can't tell you, otherwise it won't come true," he replied. But then you pouted and he lost all resolve. "How about I show you instead?"

The look on your face said it all, shock mixed with intrigue and the mischief he had noticed that first night almost a week ago. So he reached down and tugged your chair closer, forcing you to face him with your knees between his. And then he leaned over and kissed you, taking your small cheeks in his large palms, putting all the power of his suppressed feelings behind it. He hoped you understood that he wanted more than to just kiss you, he wanted to occupy space inside you, fill you, complete you. Steve could feel your smile against his lips.

You pulled away. "Did you wish that I was dessert instead of the cake?

"I might have. Should we make my wish come true?"

Again you smiled, bright and guiding like a lighthouse torch, and something in your demeanor changed. Instantly, you were relenting to his touch, letting him pull you further into his lap, straddling his waist and settling into him like that was where you were meant to be. The quiet house, probably as old as him in this New England town, creaked in the silence of the night, only occasionally disturbed by the bang of a firework. But it all faded away with you in his arms.

You fit perfectly, just as Steve had hoped.

"You gonna be gentle with me, big man?" you whispered, that same brilliant smile on your face, wiggling as close to him as possible, the fingers of one hand tangled into the hair at the nape of his neck, the others tracing down the point of his sharp nose and pressing against his soft lips. "You gonna fuck me good? Be a good boy?"

Oh, Christ. Steve nearly lost his mind with your hips so tight against his, lost it at your words that made his heart race and color rise to his cheeks. He could be good. Really damn good. You seemed to know something about him that Steve didn't even know about himself, of how much he liked your praise, your commanding tone. If there was anything he was good at, it was taking orders.

"You just keep telling me what to do and I'm all yours," he mumbled against your fingers, the thump of his heart beating in time with yours somewhere deep in your chest, echoes of one another in the silence of the house. Your hand came to grip his chin, pushing another kiss against his mouth, a kiss with lips parted in a sigh, the mingled palate of you and him, like a glass of wine on the beach and chocolate melted on the tongue, sweeping over taste buds and breathed into starved lungs.

"Mm, you taste so good. Like you were created just for me, don't you think?" you asked.

"Built from the best material, just for you." Built to love you, he wanted to say. Steve shut up instead.

You hummed with pleasure and the hand on his chin gripped a little harder, a little more suggestively. He opened his mouth obediently as you slipped your thumb between his lips, and he let you press it against the soft muscle of his tongue. You wanted him to taste you, so he did, his teeth biting gently down on the pad of your finger, another pleasant hum running down your body and straight to his groin.

He waited for your instruction.

"Undress me."

He complied, obediently. Steve's large hands hiked your sundress up around your waist, revealing the softness of your hips. His fingers smoothed up the length of your thighs, kneading at the flesh of your ass that he had so longed to touch. Your reaction was music to his ears, a soft moan leaving your lips and breathed against his, and Steve closed his eyes, arousal spreading through his body at the thought that he was making you react this way. His length hardened, tight in his pants, pressed against the thin layer of fabric that covered the heat of your core. The thought that he might not fit flickered through his mind but it dissipated at the feeling of your fingers pressing into the rough stubble of his jawline.

Steve's hands continued to travel further up your body, taking time to release the zipper of your dress down the length of your spine, and you answered his quiet, "can I?" by pulling slightly away and lifting your arms over your head. The dress landed somewhere in the kitchen and Steve dragged you close again, arms wrapped around your back to encompass you completely, his lips finding purchase against the skin of your neck.

"Look at you, so perfect," Steve mumbled, face pressed into your hair. If he had looked up he would have seen you blush, but he was too preoccupied letting his senses discover every piece of you he could touch, smell, or taste. He wanted to envelop you, inch by inch, roaming and discovering and satiating his curiosity, but you dragged his attention back to your face.

"Hey, eyes up here," you said, pulling his face toward yours and locking gazes. The intensity of your eye contact was stunning, but there was something else behind those eyes, something other than intense attraction and unsatisfied arousal. Was it doubt? Insecurity? The reason why you kissed him for so many nights and never asked for more? You were searching for something, and it came in the form of a question. "You won't leave me after this, right?"

There it was, the bit of insecurity, a fear of loss, of transience, of lacking control. Someone had hurt you before. Maybe that's why you approached everything in life with such ferocity and sincerity. But Steve would never hurt you like that, never let you feel that way again. He hoped you could see it in his eyes the way he felt about you, but words would be more reassurance. "I'm yours tonight. And tomorrow. And the day and week and month and year after that, if you'll have me that long. Whatever it is you need, I'll give it to you."

You blinked and then smiled and pressed another quick kiss to his lips before murmuring, "touch me" against them. So he did, trailing his hands over every sliver of skin before him. He felt the goosebumps rising in their wake, the downy hair on your legs and arms, the heat of your core against him, grinding almost imperceptibly to find some kind of friction, any friction. He wanted to touch you so desperately, but he got the sense that you needed to take the lead, that it would give the control you felt you lacked. So he slid a hand down the plane of your stomach and stopped just shy of dipping into your panties, waiting for your word. But you were no longer interested in playing games. Your hand found his and pulled him lower, using his fingers to press into the seem of your cunt, and he found you slick and warm with desire.

You urged him forward. "Rub my clit, baby. Slowly. Gently."

Slowly and gently. That he could do. His fingers crept absentmindedly closer to the swollen bundle of nerves and when he landed there, touch soft and circling, you jerked against him, your whole body moving with the force of anticipation and a cry leaving your lips. And though it seemed to burn, seemed to be torture for yourself, you demanded he do it again. Your forehead leaned against his, eyes shut tight, and Steve watched as your face contorted in pleasure as he flicked and circled again and again and again.

"Yes, baby. Perfect. So good. So. Fucking. Good."

Every bit of you was soft, from your neck where he placed his kisses to the curled hair hiding the swollen bud of your clit where his fingers played gently and rhythmically. Even the orgasm that gushed from your smooth cunt and stuttered from your lips was soft. You came with a choked cry as your hand pulled him closer by the back of his head, your tits pressed to his chest. Steve looked up to watch you devolve into pleasure, eyes squeezed tightly shut, your hair messy and swirling about your face, the straps of your bra slipping from your shoulder.

"Bed. Now. Right now," you demanded before you even had a chance to come down from your high. He would have been just as happy to have you in the kitchen, just like that, but Steve picked you up, with you latched to his chest like a koala, and carried you upstairs. You felt feather-light in his arms, easily tossed onto the mattress, your hands reaching out to pull his white t-shirt overhead and grab at the plane of his chest. Even as Steve kissed you again you couldn't stop tracing your fingertips over the lines of his torso, the ridges of his abs, the v-line that led tantalizingly toward the waistband of his pants. He felt his cock twitch and strain against the fabric of his boxers, the rough cotton not enough to stimulate him but enough to make him ache for your pussy. Your fluttering hands were not helping and Steve pictured your thin fingers wrapping around his length.

"Look at you," you said. "You're fucking perfect." It was Steve's turn to blush.

Steve wasn't...inexperienced. But it had been a while, to say the least, since he'd had the time or energy or capacity to even feel attracted to anyone. And even longer, perhaps never, since he felt the way he felt about you, like a bee to a flower, drunk on sweet nectar and high on honey. That was you, the delicate flower, so small and tender beneath him, yet as stunning and resonating and thunderous as the fireworks bursting somewhere overhead.

Fighting to survive was all Steve had known for so long, standing up to the bully and helping the fallen to their feet, that it was a relief to not have to be that man for you. You didn't require protection or help or anything from him at all, and yet you welcomed his presence endlessly. Steve realized he was not a need for you, but a want, and for the first time he felt valued for something real, something that wasn't just his brute strength, but something almost bordering on love. This he understood as he stared at your sweet face, caging you beneath him in bed.

"Earth to Steve," you said softly as your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling his pelvis down toward yours and dragging a deep groan from his lungs. He hadn't noticed he'd stopped kissing you and was getting lost in drinking you in amidst his reverie until your small hand pressed to the back of his neck and gently guided him back to your lips. But you stopped just shy, your eyebrows knitted in concern, taking his leisurely manner for uncertainty. "We can stop if you want."

"No, definitely not."

"Good. Then stop staring and kiss me."

"Where?" he teased.

"Everywhere, big man."

Everywhere was doable. So he started at your lips with one so big and breathless it rivaled Mount Everest. For a moment he let himself forget about everything except how long he could go without oxygen against your lips. But there remained more of you to taste.

Steve's lips connected with your chin and slid down your jawline, taking time to kiss the pulse of your neck and the dip of your clavicle. The fan of his breath tickled across your skin and you giggled, the purest sound of joy bubbling from your lips at his touch. More of that he wanted. So he continued down to the valley between your breasts, full and round despite your stature, removing your bra as he did so, nibbling lightly at the peaks of your chest before replacing his teeth with his pinching fingers and moving lower again. Lower toward the edge of your ribs, arched upward to meet the movement of his mouth, toward the slope of your hips, his sharp nose following each kiss as your underwear joined your bra into the abyss.

Your thighs he kissed, top to bottom, left and right, but it was your ass he couldn't get enough of, filling his grip with handfuls of your flesh, using it to pull you toward the edge of the bed where he kneeled, lifting your hips toward his face, your legs slung one over each shoulder. Steve sunk his tongue into your folds without warning and you gasped, your thighs suddenly squeezing tight around his head.

"Yes, right there," you hissed between ragged breaths.

He responded by burying deeper, gripping you harder, and moaning with delight at your overwhelming taste and scent bombarding his senses. You squirmed but didn't pull away as Steve's hands worked their way back up your stomach to cup the tissue of your breasts, the width of his palms capturing the flesh in one big handful. Your hands covered his, holding them there, forcing him to press you into the bed while his mouth left you twitching and bucking beneath his touch.

And in spite of the urgency with which Steve wished to devour you, he continued on leisurely, doing his best to build you up slowly and gently pick you apart bit by bit the way you had asked him to do it before. Your body betrayed its delight, evidenced enough by the way your legs hooked around him and held him down, but you praised him anyways, rapture falling from your lips between sporadic moans of pleasure.

"Fuck, Steve, you're so good, oh God yes, baby, you're doing so good, taste me like that," you cried, and the words spurred him onward, hurried his movements just slightly, his tongue circling your clit, fingers circling your areolas. He would do whatever you asked, jump off a cliff, take a bullet to the chest, drown himself in a river, if only to please you. But you would never ask anything of him that he couldn't give, and Steve knew the moment you asked for his heart it would be his heart you'd receive. And with that intent in his mind, he made you come undone with a silent cry.

Eventually, the trembling ceased, even as he continued to drink your release with the ministrations of his tongue.

"Oh fuck, you like the way I taste baby?" you asked. His affirmation came out muffled and sloppy between your legs. Even you were breathless, barely getting out the words, but you pushed him nonetheless. "I wanna hear you say it, Steve. You like eating me out? Like drinking my juices?"

"Fuck, yes, you taste like goddamn heaven, darling."

"Kiss me, Steve."

"Yes, ma'am."

He complied without a second thought, crawling back up your body to lean over you, giving you a taste of the heaven he had just dipped into. When your fingers found his belt, he helped you remove the rest of his clothes. And then your hands were roving down his chest again, searching blindly until they found what they were looking for. Steve groaned at your touch on his swollen cock.

You gasped. "Oh, God."

Before Steve could respond you pushed him over onto his back and straddled his thighs, eyeing the length on display before you, fingers around it as if testing the girth and finding them unable to wrap all the way around.

"Oh God," you repeated. A short laugh bubbled up from your throat, the controlling front you'd managed to maintain this whole time slipping from your tone.

"Something wrong?" he asked, feeling slightly inadequate under your scrutiny. Steve sat up to meet your eyes, hands finding their place on your hips.

You gazed at him, eyes wide and glassy. "You're gonna split me in half with that thing."

"We don't have to. Not if you aren't comfortable."

"Oh baby, I'm gonna get real comfortable sitting on your cock." Your sultry grin was back and you rose up on your knees to look down at him. Your other hand swiped between your legs, two fingers gathering the warm, wet juices of your orgasm, before joining the first around his cock. You pumped, rolling a drop of precum off the tip with your thumb and rubbing it down his length, mixing the release of your pleasure with his. Steve barely held back from bucking his hips into your hand. He would save that for your pussy.

"I want you to fill me," you whispered. "I wanna be so fucking full. Just go slowly, okay?"

"Slowly. I got you, baby girl. You can take me. Let me fill you."

Steve lifted your hips and guided you forward, aligning your entrance with his length. You moved at a crawling pace, letting gravity sink your pussy around him, pausing every inch to adjust to his intrusion. His biceps stung with the grip of your fingernails in his skin, but it was a welcome distraction from the rush of pleasure threatening to tip him over the edge prematurely. Agonizingly you dipped further, a cry falling from your lips, until you were fully seated, the tip of him pressed into the cavity behind your cervix. You were warm, so, so warm, and soft and tight and you fit perfectly, just like he knew you would.

"Fuck, Steve, you're so big."

"Am I hurting you?" he asked, wiping away a tear from your cheek with his thumb.

"No, fuck, no, you feel so good. I just--I can't move."

"I got you, darling," Steve whispered, his face falling to your chest and burying it in the soft flesh of your tits. And then he wrapped his arms around your waist and did all the moving for you, lifting you up and sinking you down again, just fast enough to make you gasp for air and whine his name. With every thrust, you cried out in pleasure.

"Don't stop, Steve, please, baby, don't stop."

The fingers of one hand tugged at his hair dampened by sweat, nails scratching lightly across his scalp, as the other fell between your legs. You pressed your fingers around your clit and along your entrance, feeling where Steve's thick cock was pushing in and out of your tight pussy, feeling how big he was, how much he filled you. The meandering touch of your fingers almost sent him straight over the edge.

But it was the slick warmth of your cunt that was too much, and Steve found himself resting his forehead more and more heavily against your chest, willing himself to give you everything you wanted before he even thought about himself. The satin scent of your skin, like talcum and rose and his cologne, intoxicated him with every breath, and he sucked and nibbled on one breast and then the other, mindlessly attending to the most sensitive parts of you. A drop of sweat rolled down your sternum and Steve chased it with his tongue, licking a warm stripe up the center of your chest.

"Tell me what you need, darling."

"Fuck, that's perfect," you whined. "You fuck me so good, baby. Don't stop. Gonna make me come--make me come so hard."

Your fingers pressed against your clit once more and then you were clenching around him, your already tight pussy settling into a pulsing vice grip, your body shaking against his while he kissed the sweat from your collar bones. Steve felt you pumping the life out of him, riding out your orgasm and dragging him closer to his. The hand that had been on your clit moved to cup the weight of his balls, pinching and massaging as they pulled in heavy with the need for release.

"Where do you want me, darling, you gotta tell me."

You practically ordered him to come inside you, told him you wanted to feel him sticky between your thighs all night and it was suddenly Steve's turn to come undone, his hot seed pumping deep inside you, his twitching member finally finding release. He moaned your name against your lips, pulling you into a final searing kiss.

When, after a good twenty minutes of not moving from that position, of breathing heavy and kissing softly, you finally pulled away to lean down and lick his cock clean, the sticky mingling of you and him on your tongue, and he had to fight the urge to get hard again. And when you kissed him again, he tasted that mingling, two souls becoming one, as they were meant to be.

He slept next to you for the first time that night, your small frame encased in his, even though there was no need to share body heat in the dead of summer. But he actually slept, no dreams, no nightmares, no waking up in the middle of the night. Just deep, heavy sleep, your head tucked beneath his chin, back to his bare chest, his hands holding your breasts, and your hands holding his. Tangled together. Souls as one.

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