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httpjungkookcom · 2 years

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Please Don’t Go | JJK

Pairing | Jungkook x Reader

Word Count | 12K

Genre | Spider-Man! Jungkook x Childhood Best Friend! Reader

Summary | Jungkook’s never kept anything from you, ever. Not even the time where he tripped and accidentally kicked your dog, or when he fucked the most popular girl in high school and couldn’t make himself cum (poor guy was embarrassed for weeks), or when he accidentally rubbed all of his acceptance letters in your face without realizing. To put it short, Jungkook is an open book to you. So when he suddenly disappears, there’s a lot to question. Even more to question when he finally gets back and won’t tell you anything, going as far to avoid you. You’re on a mission to figure it out, even if it kills you.

Index | Jungkook is so smart, but so stupid at the same time. Jungkook is not sly in the slightest. Kind of angst, fighting, arguing, bickering, etc. Criminal activity, it’s a Spider-Man fic. Injuries and mention of blood. College setting and age, reader and Kook share the same major. Some cute fluffy moments in between all of the action. Aunt Yoon is essentially Aunt May in the Marvel story line.

A/N | Something kind of different than what I normally write, but I’m excited about it nonetheless!! It’s sad, cute, exciting, nerve wracking, etc. I also just love the concept of Spider Kook more than I can even explain.

All throughout your childhood years, you constantly swore that you could never truly hate Jungkook. The both of you grew up together, lived in the same apartment building with guardians that knew each other. You were always over at his apartment for annual holiday parties, or play dates (which you’re pretty sure was just babysitting because your parents worked so much.) Even in school, you both gravitated towards each other due to matching intelligence and thought processes. You can't recall a single school project that you’ve done without being partners with Jungkook, or at least in the same group. Sure, you two would play fight, argue, bicker back and forth about stupid things, or wrestle, but never truly get to a point where you hated one another. However, as you sit in class on the first day of class after break, you’re fuming. You swore you could never hate him in your entire lifetime, but right now, it’s pretty damn close. You can't think of a time where you’ve been this angry at Jungkook, face red as you fight off the urge to interrogate him to hell and back.

“Hey, are you okay?” Jungkook’s voice calls softly from beside you, almost in a whisper as class begins. You don’t even answer him, simply glancing over before returning to stare down your syllabus as you struggle to control your thoughts. You genuinely can’t understand how he disappeared all summer without a single text, call, letter, email, anything before showing back up like nothing happened. Even when you went to his aunt's apartment to check up on him (he went back home for break), she simply told you Oh, he didn't tell you? He went on a summer trip, I don't remember all the details. Before sheepishly closing the door in your face. Jungkook never keeps anything from you, you’ve told each other almost everything, that’s just what best friends do. You honestly can’t help but feel hurt that he wouldn’t think to tell you about his 2 and a ½ month summer trip before leaving. “Are you mad at me…why are you mad at me?”

“You disappeared all summer!” You mumbled, promptly being stared down by the professor and the few people around you. Finally looking at him dead on, you can’t help but notice that he looks almost completely different. It seems like he’s grown over the summer, both in muscle and height. The stupid science pun shirt that he used to wear religiously is fighting for its life, stitches straining around his bicep. If he flexed his arm, they would most likely bust apart. His hair is also much longer, dark brown locks being tucked behind his ears as he breaks eye contact with you, red face going back to his syllabus. “Why does it look like you’ve been eating steroids for breakfast and working out 24/7 during the past month? Seriously Kook, what is going on? You can’t just leave and not say anything before suddenly showing back up in the fall semester?”

Now it’s his turn to take glances at you, mouth opening and closing a few times as he struggles to answer your questions. As you wait, his face only gets increasingly red as he stumbles for an answer. He's been dying to tell you everything, truly, but he’s just not allowed to. It’s not exactly a rule put in place, but he was warned extensively of the danger that comes with sharing his secret. If you were ever hurt or in danger because of him, he doesn’t think he could ever forgive himself. He definitely wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if he wasn’t able to save you. “I just, I can't tell you. Definitely not here, not now.”

“Okay? So after school? Come over, I got lucky and my roommate isn’t gonna be home for a couple of months to study abroad.” You can feel your anger subsiding now as you talk to him normally, as if he didn’t disappear over the summer. Having him explain his disappearance while also hanging out for the afternoon almost feels like an instant relief to your summer long headache. “Also, we should see if the coffee shop still makes those sandwiches, like the little slider ones! We can stop by before we go to my-“

“Uhm…I can’t hang out after class today.” Jungkook states, almost so quietly you couldn’t hear him. He can already tell what you’re going to ask next, sinking down in his seat as if that will avoid your wrath. He feels horrible as you ask your next and final question for the day, stomach immediately dropping.

“Why?” You’re genuinely curious. You can't remember any clubs that he’s in that take place on this day, nor any other school events. Maybe an orientation of some sort that you didn’t see on the announcements? Maybe he has a doctor appointment?

“….I can’t tell you.” You're mad again.

You ignore him for the rest of the morning class, promptly shoving your notebook into your bag when the professor ends class. As you prepare to walk to your next class, you want to scream as you realize Jungkook has an almost identical schedule to you. Curse the both of you for having the same major. Jungkook follows your routine, quickly packing before exiting the lecture room, also going to the same exact math. “Listen, I want to tell you! Really, I do! It’s just I can’t.” He tries to explain without giving too many details that would compromise his identity, especially in the middle of the campus. “I've been dying to talk to you all summer, I've really missed you, you know?” He pleads his case.

“Kook, just leave me alone for now. Summer sucked because you just disappeared off the face of the Earth, and suddenly you’re just back like nothing happened. You didn’t even text me!” You mumble, sighing at nothing in particular as you finish your sulking. “I just need time to get over your sudden secret-ness from me.” A part of you wants to turn around and laugh with him, but you just can’t. It’s genuinely something that’s been bothering you and for some reason you just can’t get over it. Class goes by relatively uneventfully, the two of you barely talking. You soon come to realize that, without yours and Kook’s endless bantering, the day goes by extremely slowly.

The day ends and much to your surprise, Jungkook is almost sprinting out to the parking lot as soon as your final class wraps up. You have nothing in you to catch up and follow him, simply walking to the coffee shop by yourself. This truly does suck more than you thought it would.

While you and Jungkook were in the middle of a fight, you can’t help but become concerned as he slowly stops attending classes. He's barely ever in physical class anymore, maybe attending one day out of the entire week. Honestly, you’re unsure how he’s even still enrolled in the courses. Despite not attending often, you come to find out that he’s still enrolled, teachers constantly calling his name for attendance and getting silence instead. He's even dropped out of his clubs, which is even more concerning. Putting all of your pride aside, you decide to stop by his dorm after class today. You’re pretty sure he mentioned having a single room this year, no longer having a roommate for a bit.

Knocking on the door hard, you only hear silence in the room. There’s not the slightest shuffles that would indicate someone getting up and walking over to answer. You don’t even hear anything playing, nothing but silence and the faint conversation of other students down the hall. “Kook, if you’re in there, I’m not mad at you. Can we please just talk for a bit? I’m worried about you.” You explain, fidgeting with your fingers as you stand in front of his door. “If you don’t wanna talk, just text me? Please, Kook.” Another period of silence passes before you’re leaving with your head down.

Hi Aunt Yoon, did Kook happen to visit home? I haven't seen him a bit.

Uhm, yes actually! He’s here right now.

Great! I’ll stop by, be there in a bit.

Next stop is his childhood apartment to check up on him. Aunt Yoon is quick to open the door on the first knock, a bright smile plastered across her face as she welcomes you into the apartment. It's the exact same as always, pictures plastered across all of the walls with little to no walk space left due to furniture. It's cozy.

“Hi Aunt Yoon! I wanted to check up on Kook, I haven't seen him in a bit.” You smile, scratching the back of your neck as you stand in the middle of the walk way. She stares back at you for a few moments, not saying anything.

“Uhm, he’s not here. He just left actually, right after…you texted me. Do you want a sandwich while you wait for him?” She smiles, going to the fridge to pull out one of the pre-wrapped sandwiches you and Kook always used to share when you were young. You quickly take it and thank her before realizing what she said exactly.

You’re all types of confused now, never knowing Jungkook to be someone that seems to actively avoid seeing you. He's always come whenever you called, studied and hung around your apartment before heading home. You’re the same for him, the both of you being there whenever the other needed it. “He’s not…avoiding me? Is he?” You can feel your eyes begin to water. “He just hasn’t been coming to class recently after I got onto him. …I feel bad.”

“Oh no! No honey, it’s not like that. He just had something to do, that’s all.” Standing in the same exact spot, you observe Aunt Yoon, nervously rubbing and cracking her knuckles repeatedly. You raise an eyebrow at the behavior, pointing to her hands questioningly. “Oh, uhm. Kook told me about the little fight you guys are having, that’s all.”

“It's just, it’s not even a fight. I'm just confused and he can’t explain anything to me.” You sigh, frustrated. “Do you mind if I wait here for him? I can go to his room if you’d like your space out here.” You mumble, slowly shuffling down the hall towards his room. Since you’ve been friends for so long, it’s not awkward being in his room so you have no problem just waiting around for him. You jump back as Aunt Yoon quickly cuts you off, slamming both palms on either side of the hallway walls. The confusion just doesn’t stop growing. You raise your eyebrows, lamely clasping the sandwich in front of you as you step back towards the living room. “Okay, uhm. Or I guess I can just wait out here for him.” You feel incredibly stupid as you plop down on the sofa, getting comfortable as you wait for him.

Aunt Yoon is a nervous wreck, but she’s trying (and failing) to not show it to anyone. She almost died on the spot when Jungkook told her his secret, half voluntarily and the other half was a result of being caught with his mask in hand. She wanted to scream, cry, hold Jungkook in her arms, and scold him all at once. After a very lengthy talk at the dinner table, both of them sitting on opposite ends (awkward), she finally decided to let him continue his superhero side job. Despite her reluctance, she trusts Kook and made him promise he would try his best to be safe. Well, as safe as you can be when fighting criminals on the street. Aunt Yoon understands why you’re mad at Jungkook, but understands that it’s not her place to tell you. After making sure you sit down, she makes a beeline for his room, staring at the old spider suits that are currently laid out on the floor. Secretly, she pats herself on the back for her quick thinking, regardless of how messy the save was.

“Uhm, Aunt Yoon? Do you know when Kook is coming home?“ You ask from the couch, feeling as if you weren’t allowed to move away from it without being ushered back. Your sandwich is still wrapped on your lap, feeling too awkward to open it. Silence fills the room once again as Aunt Yoon fights for an appropriate answer that’s not too alarming.

“Uhm, usually around 11 these days. He’s been really busy recently.” She smiles, twirling her hair as a nervous habit as she soothes her anxiety. You quickly conclude that if you ask doing what, or why he gets home so late, you won’t get an answer. If anything, Aunt Yoon might have a nervous breakdown if you question her any further, so you decide to leave it. You nod at the answer, directing your attention to the sandwich that remains untouched. While Aunt Yoon is acting weird, she makes sure you’re comfortable in the living room before heading back to whatever she was doing before you showed up. Turning on the tv, getting you a drink, handing you a throw blanket for the couch. You settle in for the long wait, laying down and watching whatever plays on the tv.

SPIDER-MAN SHOWS UP ONCE AGAIN TO SAVE THE DAY!!

SPIDER MENACE IS ONCE AGAIN TERRORIZING CITIZENS OF SEOUL, SOUTH KOREA!!

SPIDER-MAN IS A NEWLY FOUND HERO!

ONCE AGAIN, UNKNOWN HERO REFUSES TO REVEAL IDENTITY.

You quickly click away from the news channels. Truthfully, you have no opinion on the new hero that seems to be taking the entire country by storm. You’ve never had any interaction with him so far, so you genuinely haven’t been able to gauge who he is without the influence of biased news outlets. All you know is that there’s even a club for him at your university, the students all competing to get the best Spidey photo. Surprisingly, you drift off to sleep without realizing.

You startle awake, heading a chorus of groans and crashing coming from down the hall. It doesn’t sound like Aunt Yoon, meaning Jungkook must’ve just gotten home. Weird, you didn’t hear the front door unlock and open. “Kook?” You call out, rubbing your eyes before making your way down the hall. Still half asleep, you knock on his childhood bedroom door. “Jungkook, is that you? Can we talk?” His door slowly opens, revealing a very disheveled and tired looking Jungkook. Seeing him for the first time in what feels like months is off putting, making you stumble over yourself for words that properly explain what you're trying to convey. “Uhm, hey. You uh, stopped showing up to classes and I got worried. And I went to your dorm and uhm, no one was there, heh. And dropped out of your clubs, and got home really late…” you're definitely rambling now. “I guess I wanted to check up on you to make sure you’re alright.”

Jungkook is at a loss for words. “No, yeah, I'm alright! I've just been really busy with stuff outside of school. Personal stuff. Uhm, how have you been!?” He’s trying to desperately change the subject, flashing his signature bunny smile as his last card. It almost works, almost, until you spot the cut he’s currently sporting across his brow.

“Kook…what is going on?” You mumble, reaching out to hold his head before he has a chance to back away from you. You catch it just in time, pushing his hair back that he was using to hide it. It’s a deep cut, blood soaking his hair and brow. It’s threatening to drip into his eye, making you quickly wipe it with your finger. Not showing up to class, coming home late, getting injured after coming home? You’re more confused than ever, stomach dropping to your feet as you can only think of the worst. “Are you street fighting?” You mumble, grabbing tissues as you wipe some of the blood away.

“No! No, of course not!” He pulls your wrists away, giving his brow one hard wipe before throwing away the tissues. Seeing you so worried about him makes his stomach lurch, threatening to spill every single secret that he’s kept from you so far. “Shouldn’t you be getting home? It’s almost midnight and everything.” He smiles, once again changing the subject.

“You're kicking me out now. Please Kook, I’m not mad at you anymore, I'm worried about you. And the more I try to find out what’s going on the more and more I'm worried!” You're fighting back tears now, trying increasingly hard to keep your resolve in front of him. “Even Aunt Yoon is acting weird! Acting like I'm some stranger that you guys have never met before. Blocked me off from going into your room like I was some stranger, did her nervous hair twirling and knuckle cracking, and didn't know what to say when I talked to her. Now you, disappearing from everything with barely any explanation! Never being at the university and coming home all beaten up! I didn’t even hear you come in through the front door which is weird, you always make so much noise.” You ramble, becoming more frustrated as Jungkook can only stare at you wide eyed. His heart is beating erratically in his ears, wanting nothing more than to wrap you in a hug and explain everything to you. He hasn’t seen you this upset in years, tears threatening to fall down your cheeks.

“Please, Y/n.” Jungkook mumbles, letting his head drop as he avoids making eye contact. “I wish I could tell you. Here, you can sleepover tonight and tomorrow we’ll both drive back up to the university-”

“Just tell me! Whatever it is there’s no way it can be that bad, we’ve known each other since we were toddlers. Kook….please. Don’t make me worry like this.” Tears are slowly streaming down your face, voice wavering with every word you speak. Your lips threaten to let out sobs in between each word, fighting them back to keep your resolve and tone. Regardless, your resolve isn’t enough to get Jungkook to tell you anything. He continues to avoid eye contact as he talks once again.

“Y/n, please. Let’s just go to sleep.”

Your stomach falls to your feet, heart feeling as if it were about to jump out of your throat. In a flurry, you can only say the first thing that comes to mind.

“I hate you Jungkook.”

The hurt is evident all across his face, shoulders slightly flinching from your cold statement. He's completely unprepared, staring back at you like a deer caught in a car's headlights. He's never heard you say those words with any true meaning, only jokingly a couple of times. Hearing them makes his heart beat increase, hands instinctively reaching out to pull you towards him. As he gently grabs your shoulders, you jerk out of his grasp and back up towards the door.

You can't take it anymore, spinning fast on your heels and almost running out of the apartment. A part of you wants to scream at Jungkook, the other cries into his arms as he comforts you. You decide that neither one is appropriate and going to your car to cry is likely your best option. Ignoring him as he follows you out, mumbling excuses to the best of his ability, you make it out of his apartment in record time. It feels like you’ve just lost Jungkook entirely, sobs wracking your entire body as you shuffle through the building stairwells. You could help him, you’re sure of it, if he would just let you. You’ve never not been there when he’s struggled in the past, and seeing him block you out feels like betrayal. You’re defeated entirely as the cool night air envelops you, continuing your pity party late into the night.

After maybe three hours, the rational part of your brain forces you out of the driver seat of your car and back up to Jungkook’s apartment. You’re about to knock when it’s ripped open, causing you to flinch away. “God, Kook!” You mumble, eyes wide as you stare at him. “You scared the shit out of me! Listen, I won’t ask about it anymore tonight. I’ll leave it alone.”

“C'mon, let’s go to sleep Y/n.” Jungkook calls softly, pulling you underneath his arm and into the apartment. He easily leads you to his room, handing you clothes to change into. You want to continue arguing with him, but you just can’t. You change in the apartment's small bathroom, tired body shuffling into his bed. “You need to cry?” Jungkook chuckles softly as he takes his place next to you, pulling your body close to his chest.

"...Yeah." Jungkook knows you extremely well, and now is not any different. He comforts you in one of the only ways he knows how, which is physical affection. It's always been a staple of Jungkook's personality, his love language being physical touch once he's comfortable being around you. Your face is shoved into the soft cotton of some stupid science shirt, tears soon to be stained into it. "Kook, why were you still awake?"

"Just thinking about things, couldn't fall asleep." That makes you cry, Jungkook letting out a small chuckle at you before wrapping you tighter in his arms. He makes sure you're comfortable, yanking the blankets over the both of you and making sure you have at least one pillow. You bury your face into his shirt, allowing yourself to get everything out (as much as possible without snot dripping everywhere.) Jungkook comfortingly rubs your back every now and then while playing with and stroking your hair. "It's alright, Y/n. I understand why you're upset."

"It’s okay Kook, we don't have to talk about it." You state, voice muffled by his chest. "I’m sorry for keeping you awake, and being a bitch to you in class." Over the course of the night, your positions swap as you take Jungkook in your arms. While he won't explicitly say it, you know he needs it just as bad as you do. Holding him, the both of you fall asleep like that.

You're not sure what time it is when you wake up, quickly realizing what tore you out of your sleep. In your arms, Jungkook is visibly strained, face scrunched together as he jostles slightly in your hold. You quickly realize that it's not going to go away as he continues to become more distressed. "Kook, Jungkook wake up." You begin to shake him lightly, hoping he'll just wake up without much trouble. It takes much more effort to actually pull him out of his sleep, his head jerking as you shake him awake by his shoulders.

He wakes up with a start, his eyes shooting open as he lurches into a seated position. He’s breathing extremely hard, almost panting as he scans around the room widely. "Hey, hey, Kook. It's okay, it was just a dream. you're okay, you're safe." His attention is quickly turned to you, eyes still wide as he takes in your presence.

"Are you okay? You're not hurt?" He mumbles, reaching out and grabbing ahold of your arm hard, not allowing you to jerk away. Carefully, as if his dream were real, he turns it over as if he were looking for an injury.

"Yes, I'm fine, Jungkook. It was just a dream, a nightmare." You mumble, opening your arms and beckoning for him to lay back down. Slowly, as if you were lying to him, he finally lays back down with you. Whatever he dreamed about has him shook up deep into his bones, his arms holding you as close as he possibly could.

Waking up is no easier, feeling just as shitty as you did last night but now even more tired. Your eyes are red and puffy, lips chapped from crying throughout the night. Despite driving back to the university together, Jungkook avoids you like the plague for the entire week. He sits as far away from you as he can without making it obvious. He makes sure to leave the lecture halls immediately after the bell rings so there’s no chance you two will be stuck awkwardly walking next to each other. You’re beyond frustrated and sad from them on, slowly becoming strangers with Jungkook. You two never thought this would happen.

Genuine misery wracks your entire body as you walk through the nightlife of Seoul, streets busy as people start their weekend early on Friday night. Your shoulders brush every now and then with strangers, which you’re quick to usher apologies to avoid any confrontation. A particularly harsh brush sends you down, falling flat on your ass as you groan in pain. Immediately, pain shoots up your hands and into your wrists, absorbing your fall. It feels as though your tailbone has been broken as you pathetically muster your strength to stand up straight. “You should really watch where you’re going!” You don’t make eye contact, simply rolling your eyes at the angry citizen.

“Yeah yeah, I know.” You mumble, immediately being caught by the wrist at the end of your statement. Panic begins to flow throughout your entire body, heart rate speeding up so much you can almost hear it. “Let go of me.” While you try to sound confident, your voice comes out frail as you stare at the man in front of you. Your legs feel as though they’ve gone numb, every sense in your body telling you to get out of there. “I said, let go!” You muster up a bit more courage as you try to pull your arm away to no avail. This proves to be counterproductive as the man easily catches your other arm in his grasp. Tears well in your eyes as you finally get a clear look at the man, nothing short of a stereotypical petty criminal. Your skin crawls as he eyes you up and down, stopping to think.

“Just for that comment, you owe me your wallet.” He grins, making your stomach flip in circles. Is your wallet really worth getting the shit beat out of you? No, no it’s not. But as your ears ring with the sound of your heart beat, not a single coherent thought is happening in your head right now. Involuntarily, you scream as he pulls you closer, making some sort of attempt to pat down your pockets for your wallet. You can’t help but continue to scream, trashing in his hold as he searches your body, copping cheat feels wherever he can. Tears stream down your face, mind going into overdrive as it uses the last bit of intelligence to kick your attacker in his dick.

Immediately, his hands are off of you and he hunches over. Taking the opportunity, you make a break for it, getting just around the street corner before he’s taking off after you. “Man…c’mon.” Is the only thing you hear before the footsteps stop, instead the silence is filled with the man’s complaints. I wasn't even doing anything, we were just messing around, get your webs off of me, you have no right to do this, I'm suing you for misconduct, I'll kill you as soon as I get free! “Didn't your mother ever teach you manners?” There’s a faint sound of webs being strung, causing you to slowly make your way over to the complaint train. “And just like that…another one for the cops.” The man is incredibly satisfied with his web building ability, taking one final measure as he shoots a glob over the attacker's mouth, finally silencing him.

“…Spider-Man?” For some reason, you’re incredibly surprised despite him being all over the news for months now. While you’ve heard everyone talking about him, you’ve never actually seen him in person, never caring to track him down. His suit is much darker than what it looks like in the pictures, making you wonder if it’s the lighting or if he's had a costume update. With the entire suit, you can’t tell any sort of distinguishable features besides the fact that he’s ripped in almost every aspect. The only other feature that you’re able to pick up on right away is his extremely young sounding voice. “Uhm, thank you. For uh, webbing him to the wall?” The disheveled looking man is definitely cocooned to the wall, completely defeated as he waits for the cops to show up.

“Oh, it’s no problem! It’s what I do, your-“ He’s ready to deliver his famous, personally selected, catchphrase. He’s even gone to the extent of placing his hands on his hips, getting ready to puff out his chest and stand tall as he speaks.

“Friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, yeah, yeah, we know.” An outside voice chimes in, making you burst into laughter. His chest immediately falls and his posture falls a bit, hands going to point at the said heckler that ruined his moment.

“Hey, that wasn’t very nice!” The spider in front of you calls out, which just makes you laugh more. He's standing up straight now, but has no real intention of going after the grumpy eavesdropper. Without even trying, he’s funny.

“If you really want, you can do your little saying. I'll listen to it.” You giggle, seeing him place his hands back on his hips as he recovers from his workout that stringing the man up turned out to be. He looks incredibly boyish as he stands in thought for a brief moment, almost snapping back into reality as he remembers the situation. Doing a quick double take, he glances back at the man before looking at you once again, before taking another small glance over his shoulder to ensure your attacker is still on the wall.

“Uhm, do you mind if I use your phone? Gotta call the police, and uhm, my suit doesn’t have any pockets?” To add credibility to his claim, he’s running his hands along the suit to show you. After his display, he’s already walking towards you before you answer, taking your phone with a quick thanks before calling the police. He talks for maybe 1 minute max, the conversation being a chorus of “Hello, yes, Spider-Man, yes, 97th street, yes, ok, thanks.” After hanging up and handing your phone back, he seemingly kicks in his inspirational it’s gonna be ok, speech. “How are you feeling? I know that might’ve been a little scary for you, especially the whole, uhm, searching…your body.'' It's incredibly awkward as he tries to find a way to take back what he just said, gesturing to the air.

“You’re not very good at this, I think you should stick to webbing criminals.” You laugh softly, tone joking as you tease him. He seems embarrassed, more than likely flushed entirely pink underneath his mask. “Thanks for saving the citizens of Seoul once again, Spidey.” You giggle as you begin the walk home, quickly making the decision to take the well lit sidewalks. It’ll likely take 10 minutes longer, but you tell yourself that the 10 minutes will be worth it to avoid another almost mugging encounter.

“Uhm, if you want, can I give you a lift home?” Spider-Man offers, jogging to catch up to you. The visual of Spider-Man running on foot to meet up with you is humorous for no reason. “Just so you get home safe! And you don’t have to worry about guys like him!” He covers as you eye him questioningly. After a little more teasing, you accept his offer. “Okay, so just stand next to me, ok, ok. And I'm going to hold you like this, is this ok for you?” You genuinely laugh as he hesitantly places his arm around your waist, nodding your head yes. “Alright, and you can hold around my neck, yeah, like that. Okay, so when we take off, you can either leave your legs like that, or wrap them, uh…around my waist. On the side! Like a toddler sits on someone’s hip, you know?” He’s genuinely trying to not make the situation in any way sexual or uncomfortable, but the constant explanations and stumbling is doing the opposite of his intended effect.

“Yes, Spider-Man. I know what you mean. This won’t affect your webs or swinging, right?” If he’s holding you, that means he can only swing with one arm which is slightly concerning. “Like with only one arm, because if there's a chance I can fall, I'd rather walk all the way back home?”

“Yeah! I'm a pro at swinging, you have no idea. Ready? I’ll show you.” Without even waiting for a response, he effortlessly shoots a web that sends the both of you flying up. After shifting down several inches as the both of you swung downwards, you quickly concluded that you were going to death grip Spider-Man's waist as he swung the both of you. It’s almost like a rollercoaster, that’s extremely high, and has no seat belts or safety procedures. Your adrenaline is pumping throughout your entire body, stomach rising and falling with each swing. To him, it seems like he’s on a leisurely walk in the park, nowhere near as fast as he normally swings when he’s in an emergency.

“Can these things go any faster?” You laugh, pointing to the web shooters on his wrists. Glancing over at you, you’re sure he made a face behind the mask.

“Faster?” You can almost hear him scoff as he questions you. You can’t help but laugh, nodding your head. “If you insist, climb onto my back.” While he’s swinging? He wants you to maneuver around him while he’s swinging 200 feet in the air? “Like a piggy back ride, don’t think about it too much. You can do it.” He slowly lets go of your waist, moving his arm forward so that you can easily slide onto his back. Every single survival instinct is screaming at you not to move, to which you ignore.

“So now what?” You mumble. He has both of his arms in front of him, body (mostly) unrestricted to swing to maximum momentum. You quickly conclude that this is a horrible idea as he bends and extends his body to increase his speed.

“We go faster.” He laughs at you, using both arms to sling himself as fast as possible. While he may seem like an absolute idiot when talking, the way he’s calculating every single move to maximize his distance, is astonishing to you. No move that he does is for nothing (besides the safety checks for you). It's an extremely energy and time efficient way of moving. In record time, you’re at the front of your dorm complex. “And….we’re here.” He smiles as he stands on the ground, easily holding your legs that remain locked around him. While you know he’s standing on solid ground, your legs remain in place as your brain fights to convince yourself it’s safe to get down.

“Ok, let me just get down.” Your legs feel like jelly as they touch the ground, threatening to give out under your weight. “Thanks for the lift, I owe you some ramen next time, yeah?” You smile, shakily walking into your apartment building.

“Hopefully there isn’t a next time!!” He calls out, and with that, he shoots off to go help another poor soul.

Maybe it was the adrenaline from your attacker, or from Spider-Man, or the pure survival instincts kicking in during the ride, but as you lay down in bed, a realization washes over you. You never even told Spider-Man where you were going to…

Ever since that day, you almost unconsciously find yourself wandering around alone. To be honest, you weren’t looking for trouble and had no intention of getting into any that may become a safety risk. However, a part of your subconscious wants nothing more than to run into the red and blue masked superhero that roams the streets. So maybe…just maybe, if trouble comes your way it won’t be the end of the world. Your feet shuffle as you walk, every now and then kicking a rock along the sidewalk.

“If I didn’t know any better, I'd think you’re looking for trouble…” A voice calls out from above you, instantly causing a giant smile to spread across your face. Glancing up, it’s the same masked boy that you’ve been wandering the streets to catch even a glimpse of. Despite having his mask on, it looks like the fabric is smiling down at you.

“If I didn’t know any better, I'd think I have a little spider stalker following me.” Your smile is almost uncontrollable as he comes down, walking down the street with you. “Plus, I still owe you that ramen right?” You look incredibly ridiculous as the both of you walk into the restaurant, standing awkwardly as the staff whisper back and forth to each other. Spider-Man has got his signature, I’m a superhero, pose going on that it almost makes you laugh at him.

“What, what’s so funny, why are you giggling?” He’s leaning over slightly, trying to whisper to you as you continue to fight off your urge to laugh. “Are you laughing at me??”

“No, no.” You can't even look over at him, because you know the moment you do you’ll burst into laughter. Subtly, you begin to get into the same exact pose as him to see if anyone notices. This includes, placing your hands on your hips, widening your stance to about shoulder width, and standing perfectly straight with your chest puffed out. Even now, you’re still fighting back laughter as the staff continue to take glances at the two of you. “Do I look familiar?” You whisper, watching as he slowly turns around to look at you fully. As he analyzes, you can’t help but begin to laugh.

“Hm…no. Not really?”

“I'm you!”

“What!? That’s not how I stand!”

“This is exactly how you stand!”

“I do not look like that.”

“We could literally be twins right now, just give me your mask.” You laugh, finally dropping the pose as your ramen comes out. “You know, I really can’t tell if you’re smiling under your mask. So if you are straight faced this entire time, this is awkward.” You laugh, walking out of the restaurant with a bag of takeout. You both decide where to eat, sitting down with the bag in between you.

And by “you both decide where to eat,” Spider-Man immediately proposes that you go to a rooftop. He easily takes you to one of the tallest buildings, your stomach churning as your feet touch the roof and you immediately sit down where you two landed. “This is fun, but we should go by the ledge. We can see the entire city from up here.” He’s more than excited, easily walking over to the side and sitting down, feet hanging. You’re distraught as he webs the bag, yanking it over to him with no effort at all. Pathetically, you crawl over to the edge and make some sort of attempt to sit in the same manner he is. “Uh, if you want, I can web you…not like restraints. But like a seatbelt.”

“Actually…I would like that a lot. Please do.” You nod your head up and down, lifting your arms to allow him to secure your lap to the building. If the both of you can swing from skyscraper to skyscraper with these webs, you at least know they’ll hold you in place. He easily humors you once again without trying, pulling the mask to just above the tip of his nose to allow him to eat the noodles he’s picked up. “You know, if I knew who you were, I'd be able to tell from just this part of your face. So hiding your eyes isn’t exactly foolproof.” You laugh, quickly looking at his lips and half exposed cheeks. Your stomach flips as you quickly change to subject. “You know the city is a lot more safe with you around.”

“Yeah? I’m really glad to hear that.” He smiles, and you wonder if he’s actually that dumb. Or maybe he thinks you’re dumb and won’t put 2 and 2 together. “Everyone used to hate me, you know?” He laughs, shaking his head as he continues to eat. You don’t say anything, knowing that he’s going to continue once he’s done. “Newspapers tore me up every single day, I think I headlined at least 6 out of 7 days a week.” He laughs, “I guess you could say I'm pretty famous.”

“Yeah, you definitely are famous. You’re so famous you’re becoming a tourist attraction.” You giggle, thinking about how you’re seen various people come to Seoul to see Spider-Man at work. You’re sure the state gets insane tourism money from it, along with the city already being a well known area. “Seoul’s one and only, web slinging hero, Spider-Man!” You laugh, announcing your made up head line in an overly enunciated and perfectly clear tone. He laughs at the lame joke, shoving the rest of the noodles in his mouth. “We should probably get going, Arachne. It’s getting late and I'm sure you’ll be busy as it gets later.”

He nods to your final statement, reaching over to your lap. “I'm gonna take these off, alright?” You nod, allowing him to easily rip through them. Almost cat-like, he easily stands up on the edge with perfect balance, reaching down and offering you stability as you climb to your feet. “Freaking out?” He laughs at you, watching as you screw your eyes shut and refuse to look down.

“Yes, yes. Let’s just swing, get going.” Spidey asks you if you want his side or back, to which you heavily weigh the benefits of both. Taking a small peek at the sheer height, you decide that the back is definitely a better option since you’re able to cling onto him tighter. “Are you just going…to jump down? And like free fall!?” You regret every decision you made that has led up to this moment.

“Yes, until I get closer to the ground.” He can already tell you’re about to back out entirely, most likely take the elevator all the way down. While he would still accompany you, he’d much rather not wait forever to descend the 50+ floors. “Listen, you can do this, ok? All you have to do is jump onto my back and hang on as tight as you want. You don’t even have to look, alright? Just close your eyes and we’ll be done in no more than a minute.”

He talks you into it, but not without feeling like you’re going to pass out. At least if you pass out, it’s with Spider-Man who is more than capable of pulling you back in order to catch you. “Ok, ok. This will be fine.” You persuade yourself, taking the smallest hop humanely possible and quickly situating yourself on his back. It feels like you’re falling faster than scientifically possible, hurtling towards the ground at an alarming speed.

You’re about 90% sure you’ve busted Spider-Man's ear drums at this point, shoving your face in the crook of his neck while screaming. Your arms and legs are locked tight around him, so much so you’re surprised you haven’t choked him out yet. (Which would be bad, because if you pass out he’ll save you. If he passes out, you’re both goners.) As he easily thrusts a wrist in the air and begins swinging close to the ground, your arms fly up to his head as you try to find a better hold.

“THIS IS THE WORST, I'M CALLING THE BUGLE LATER TODAY!!!” You scream, slamming your eyes shut as he narrowly avoids buildings. “I'M TELLING THEM YOU TRIED TO KILL ME!!”

“WHAT ARE YOU EVEN SAYING!!” He screams back, trying to find his way through the lit up streets. “I CAN'T SEE, I CAN'T SEE ANYTHING!!”

You’re completely unaware that you are, in fact, clasping your hands over his eyeballs.

You’ve never hated anything more, from the moment he allowed his body to fall off the side (back first, so you were closer to the ground) all the way to when your feet touched the floor at your dorm. “That was horrible, if you ever convince me to free fall again I’m going to throw up all down the back of your suit.” You vaguely threaten, slowly climbing off.

He laughs at you, standing in the same spot as he waits for you to safely make it inside. For some reason, leaving is different now. You’re torn as you stare at him, stomach flipping in uncertainty. “Hey…be safe, alright, people care about you.” You mumble, quickly going back for a hug. Most likely catching him off guard, it takes him a couple of moments to actually hug you back. It's a comfortable, extremely familiar hug. “Don’t do anything too stupid, now.” You laugh, pulling away and actually going into your apartment. Spider-Man says something along the lines of I’d never think of it before swinging away.

Walking past Jungkook’s hall, your feet instinctively pause in front of the doorway. You finally understand. You understand Kook being so secretive, you understand why Aunt Yoon was so nervous that day, cracking her knuckles at every opportunity and refusing to let you past the living room. As you settle in for the night, everything begins to make more sense. The confusion you’ve had for over a month is suddenly gone, your head eventually connecting every missing piece.

You’re unsure of what to do about the newfound information, but for now you relax feeling slightly relieved now that you’ve figured it out. Jungkook has been acting so strange lately because he’s been a completely different person, swinging around the city every night as the one and only Spider-Man.

You can’t help but giggle slightly thinking to yourself. Pulling your phone out from your backpack, your finger hovers over Jungkook's contact name. Without thinking, you edit the information and add a little spider next to it. You decided to send Jungkook a quick text. It doesn’t even register to you that you both truly haven’t spoken face to face in days now. You’re hesitant for a couple of seconds, the endearing Jungkook 💜🕷 contact name urging you to make a decision. Regardless, you still message him.

I almost killed spider man

What? No wayyyyy

Would you still be friends with me if I murdered the most well known superhero in town?

Absolutely not

…Well, do you think that one loud news guy would’ve paid me?

Jameson? Knowing that guy? He’d give you his first born child

Smiling softly to yourself, you finally allow yourself to drift off to sleep.

You’re woken up out of your sleep by loud pounding coming from your window, a series of coughs and grunts accompany the noise. In a panic, your body shoots out of bed, catching the smallest glimpse at the figure in your window. Just as you’re about to sprint out of the room, you catch a small flash of red and blue. Hesitantly, you walk over to get a better look. Sure enough, the web slinging hero is standing outside of your window. Confused, you begin to pull open the window. “What are you doing here?!” You whisper, glancing back to your door to make sure no ears are around. “It's almost 5 am!”

“I just…need your help.” He groans, climbing past you and into the room. As he stands on both feet, his body haphazardly falls to the ground, a loud crashing accompanying it. On the ground, he begins to cough and groan as he holds his body wherever he can.

“Oh my god! Are you okay?” Panic sets in even more as you drop to your knees, pulling his head into your lap as you fight to get a response from him. Extremely slowly, he nods his head.

“I just…got caught a few too many times. I just…need to rest, my body heals pretty fast.” He’s talking extremely slowly, mind seemingly not thinking as he attempts to explain what happened to him. You can barely follow along with the story, something about not seeing the blade before the fight ended. At the end of his explanation, he quickly adds But I totally won, don’t get me wrong. Webbed him up and came straight over. At the explanation, you fight tears back, looking anywhere else in your room but him.

“Hey, was this too far? Did I overstep our friendship?” He laughs softly, placing both of his palms on the ground before making an attempt to get up. You assume he was going to leave your room, refusing to let him do so. You easily hold him in place, the injured boy not having the energy to fight you.

“You really must think I’m stupid, Kook.” You laugh, tears beginning to fall which you quickly wipe away. “Like, really really stupid.”

“Kook? Who’s that?”

This only makes you laugh harder, his voice easily giving away his blown cover. He's surprised, to which he quickly tries to play it off and act cool. “Please…don't make this harder than it already is.” You begin to reach for the edge of his mask, wrists quickly being caught by his hands and immediately stopping you. As he grabs your hands, you only now realize the wounds he was covering, blood smearing onto you from his hands.

“You…you didn’t tell me he actually got you! I thought you said you were just tired and couldn’t swing anymore!” Tears immediately begin to fall down your face, body jumping up. “Stay here! I swear, if you disappear I'll come find you!” You’re almost full on sobbing now, sprinting to the bathroom to dig for your first aid kit. It’s slightly small and only has the basics, but you hope it’ll be enough to help him at least. “Change into this, please?” It’s a pair of shorts and a random t-shirt that he’s left behind from your guys countless sleepovers.

“I really shouldn’t, I just need to rest.”

You refuse to let him go that easy, insisting that he change. Trying his best to keep whatever secret he thinks he’s still hiding, he makes every excuse to dodge taking off his mask. Listen, I’m hideous underneath this mask! I have to conceal my identity, if you went and told people I'd be in a lot of trouble. Also, if you knew my identity, it could paint you as a target for criminals. Only 1 other person knows who I am, it’s critical for it to be top secret. You can't take off my mask, it’s a part of the suit. No! It doesn’t come off at the neck. No! Get away!

“Jungkook, stop.” He is trying to crawl away from you without getting any blood on the carpet, using his feet to push himself around on his back. “First, it was disappearing and not showing up to class anymore. Then coming home beat up every night. Then when you took me home after saving me, you didn’t even ask where we were going. You just slung your webs and took me to my dorm complex. And when I bought us ramen earlier, I saw your face. You think I would miss the scar on your cheek and freckle underneath your lip? And even tonight, you happen to come to my exact window and climb in, without even knowing me?”

“Uhm, it was just a lucky guess, the window bit.” He mumbles, having no other explanation for your other points. He knows he can’t win, finally defeated and his secret laid out on the table for you to judge.

“Please just change so I can clean your cuts, please.” He’s about to make another excuse, you can see his mouth opening, mumbling out a small My identity is top secret- before you’re cutting him off. Your heart is racing, sobs and tears streaming from you at a pretty steady rate. Your hands shake as you hold onto him, gripping the front of his suit in your fists. “I told you to be safe, Jungkook! I told you not to do anything stupid! You said you’d be safe tonight! You NEVER listen, and now you’re bleeding out on my floor, KOOK PLEASE.” Your hands shake as you hold onto his suit, eventually moving to pull him closer to you. Holding his injured body, you shake and sob as he slowly wraps his arms around you. Every now and then, you can feel him heave as he fights back the urge to cry into you.

Slowly, you release your death grip on him, almost afraid he’d disappear the second you let go. Making another attempt at his mask, he lets you this time.

“I'm really sorry for this.” He mumbles, a few small coughs following his statement. Your eyebrow raises, hands just barely grazing the fabric of the mask. Before you can even react, a web is wrapped around your wrist before being easily shot towards your bed. Without even having time to think, your body is yanked backwards by the momentum of the web. “I gotta go…”

“Jungkook, this isn’t funny. Take this off.” You state, yanking hard against it as you try to reach where his body lies on your floor. You can feel your bed slide a few inches forward as you try to get to him. “Kook, I'm serious this isn’t a joke. Take it off!” Horror crosses your face as he plants his hands down, using the last of his strength reservoir to push himself up. Slowly, he hobbled back towards the window before carefully climbing out onto the fire escape. From afar, you can see the red spots bleeding through this spandex.

“I'm really sorry, those will last about an hour.” He apologizes, limping over to the railing. “If anyone comes in to check on you, you can just hide them underneath your blankets. I'll see you around.”

“JUNGKOOK! DON'T!” You're full on screaming at this point, tears engraving their path down your face. You’re frustrated and scared, almost afraid he’ll go to jump off the side of the building and not be able to recover. “PLEASE! STAY! I'LL DO ANYTHING. DON'T GO OUT, YOU'RE TOO WEAK RIGHT NOW.” You're screaming from the top of your lungs, pulling so hard on the web it feels as if you’ll dislocate your shoulder. Your wrist is aching from the tension, which you ignore it all. “PLEASE STAY, PLEASE STAY. I'LL COME FIND YOU IF YOU GO! I WILL, I SWEAR I'LL COME AFTER YOU!”

Your bed is now displaced a considerable amount, sitting almost directly in the center of the room. Your wrist is red and strained, shoulder pulled taught and about to snap at any moment if you continue to fight it. You don’t have a couple of hours to wait for this web to dissolve, you have to get to him now. “KOOK! Please, just come here. Please, I'm begging you. You're too hurt right now, you have to stay with me. Please Jungkook, I'm scared! Please don’t go, don’t leave me here!”

At your pleas, his feet stop their movements. You can see his internal debate. “Y/n, you can’t tell a soul. I mean it, I really do!”

“Okay, okay, done. I won't say a single thing. Please just get down.” At your promise, he clumsily hops down from the railing, making his way over to you. “Please, just come here.” You open one arm that’s free, wrapping it around Jungkook's torso as soon as he’s in reach. You’re quick to yank him down to your level, wrapping your single free arm as much as possible around his body. A small chuckle leaves him before he’s ripping through the web that still retains you. “I was scared Kook, that scared me.” You mumble into his shoulder, pulling him as close as possible.

He lets you hold onto him, body almost laying across your lap as you hold his torso and head. “I was scared that if you jumped down from the building, you’d be too tired to shoot a web to hold yourself, or too tired to stick to the wall.”

“It scares me to hear you cry like that.” He mumbles, pulling back just slightly to place a hand on your cheek. Ignoring the wetness that you feel, both on your cheek and body, you smile into his hand.

“Please, let me clean the blood off you. And bandage them. You’ll bleed out.” You ask, “And let me take the mask off.”

He finally nods his permission. your fingertips easily find the edge where the two seams meet, wedging your thumbs underneath the mask and easily pulling it up and over his head. He looks worn out, eyes threatening to close as blood drips onto his face. He's sporting a few bruises mixed with a busted brow and lip, where he got hit particularly hard. His cheek looks bad, a pretty long cut prominent. There’s a few tear steaks, (whether they’re from pain or your small breakdown is unknown.)

“Here I am.” He says lazily, eyes closed as you hold his head in your hands.

“Jungkook, you have to stay awake. For now, just open your eyes, please.” You mumble, searching for the extra clothes. You have to peel him out of his suit basically, blood making it almost like a wet suit onto his skin. Jungkook is more worried about the holes in the suit more than his skin, quickly reassuring him that you could sew them up. He nods, laying on the floor in nothing but a small pair of shorts. “This is going to hurt like a bitch, Jungkook.” You sigh, taking the sterile gauze and beginning to apply pressure to his still bleeding cuts.

His body stiffens under your hands, small grunts filling the room from the pain. You have to repeat this process multiple times, stomach doing flips as you fight back the urge to puke. Seeing him in so much pain makes your eyes water, you almost have to hold him down as he writhes from it. And by almost, you basically have him pinned down underneath you. You’re currently using one hand to apply pressure to the gashes, the other is holding his bicep down, and one of your feet is placed on his opposite thigh to stop him from jumping away. ”It'll be okay, just try and stay still. I got you, Kook.” After they slowly stop bleeding, you begin running sterile gauze with water over the dried blood. Slowly, it eventually looks less and less like a murder scene. “Please talk to me, Jungkook. Maybe it’ll take your mind off it.”

“I’m sorry for scaring you like that.” A tear falls down the side of his face, your hand instinctively reaching out to wipe it away. ”I know you’re worried about me, Y/n.” Jungkook mumbles, hand finding your side and doing his best to wrap it around you. “I understand, I really do. But I can't stop doing it, they need me.”

“I wasn't going to ask you to stop.” You answer, voice low and wavering slightly as you slowly stop crying over his injuries. As they get cleaned up a bit, you’re slowly able to calm down. “I just want, no need. I need you to be careful, Kook. Because if I lose you….I just. I won’t know- I won't know how to live after that.” You cry, head falling forward, causing your foreheads to push softly against each other. He understands your concern, rubbing your back comfortingly as you collect yourself. As you cry, his other hand finds your cheek to wipe the tears that slowly fall.

He hates seeing you this upset, hates it even more that it’s because of him. As he comforts you, his eyes water and threaten to spill over as he fights it away. After a bit, you’re able to pick your head up and resume, beginning smearing ointment over the cuts. To fill the silence in the room, he begins talking again. “You know, when I was fighting towards the end I started realizing how much he got me. I started feeling all of the cuts and pain running throughout my body. And after I hung him against the wall, I instinctively came over here. I wasn’t even thinking about showing up as Spider-Man, wasn’t thinking about how obvious it would be that I knew where your window was. The only thought that was running through my mind was that I needed to see you.” He explains. You’ve been sniffling the entire time, ever since Jungkook jumped down from the rails after agreeing to stay. As he talks more and more, it feels like you’re only fighting harder not to cry.

You’re not sure if this is supposed to make you feel better or worse, but your heart lurches. “I don't know if I wanted to see you for help, or see you to make me feel better. I just knew I had to get here, just in case something happened.”

“Don’t say that, you’re gonna be okay, Kook.” You abruptly cut him off, voice loud compared to his small one. You apologize softly, going back to his wounds. He nods, trying to reassure you.

“I'm already feeling better, Y/n.” He smiles, pushing himself up on his elbows to watch as you begin to bandage him up. You finish quickly, feeling nervous as he watches you.

“You know it’s weird, the last words I could’ve ever said to you were I hate you.” You laugh sadly, helping him pull his shirt on. He looks adorable as he stares at you, sporting a big patch on his cheek that covers the cut. “You should probably get some rest, you know? You’re gonna be sore in the morning for sure. I’ll get you painkillers and make breakfast when you wake up.” You smile, ruffling his hair.

“You’re right, can I borrow a pillow?” He asks, laughing lightly as he lays down on the floor.

“No, get in bed. You need to actually sleep well.” You laugh, dragging him up by one of his arms. He's quick to protest, No, it’s okay. I don't need to sleep on the bed to be comfortable. Because then you’re going to sleep on the floor and that’s not fair, no, I won't. He’s fighting you like a toddler that refuses to walk, completely dead weight as you try to drag him. With a loud sigh, you let him go and walk over to the red and blue suit on the ground. “Get in the bed, or the suit gets it!” You threaten, holding a pair of scissors to the material.

You genuinely laugh as his eyes widen, arms raising up. “Ok ok, take it easy now! Are those real scissors?!”

“Yes they’re real scissors!” A giant smile is spread across your face as he jokes with you.

“Oh no, real scissors are my weakness!!” He cries out, jokingly getting on his hands and knees. His hands stay in front of his face as he fake surrenders to your threats. Before you even realize what’s happening he’s shooting a web at you. It wraps around your wrist and will one hard tug, you’re tumbling towards him, suit and scissor falling out of your hands. “My suit is saved!”

“You missed the scissors a bit, Kook.” You laugh as you lay in his arms that caught you. He also has a giant smile spread across his face, a much better look than when you first peeled off his mask. Your heart swells, ears burning as he continues to peer down at you.

“I wasn’t aiming for the scissors.” He mumbles, making your face flush a bright red. Slowly, you almost miss it, you can feel him leaning into you. “Please, can I kiss you?” He asks softly, eyes flicking from your lips back to your eyes. It feels like you’re in a dream that you’ll wake up from, slowly nodding yes to his question. In a second, his lips are against yours, eyes falling shut. A small hum falls from you as you instinctively press closer to him, hands finding his hair. His hands find your sides, pulling you closer to him and into a sitting position. Easily, your lips spot together as if they were a perfect fit, breaths becoming heavy as you take one another’s air. You can taste the metallic on his mouth, confused for a moment before remembering his busted bottom lip.

“Kook, you need to rest.” You breathe, voice airy as you catch it. You place a small peck onto his lips, holding his head in your hands. His eyes remain closed, head tilted up slightly at you. You massage his scalp with your fingertips, a slight hum filling the room as his hands hold you close. “Please, get some sleep.” You say, pressing one last kiss onto his forehead before you begin to climb out of his lap.

“Fine, fine. But only for you.” He finally gives in, slowly climbing into bed. You giggle, pulling the covers up to his chin and beginning to tuck them in around his body. “This feels like a bit overboard now.” Jungkook states, causing you to laugh at him.

“Shut up and close your eyes.” Finally tucking him in completely, you kiss him one last time before going about your tasks for the early morning. And by tasks, you mean the mess that Jungkook brought you. There’s small blood spots on your carpet, along with the soaking wet suit. As he gets rest, you work hard to repair what you can. The carpet is first, blood stains being vigorously scrubbed and cleaned until there’s no evidence they were ever there. Picking the suit off the ground, you’re almost afraid to ruin it.

You decide that hand washing is probably the best bet, sneaking out of your room to retrieve laundry soap and head to the bathrooms. You pray to every god that no one is there, and that no one walks in on you. You try your best to be as silent as possible, red and blue suit not easily mistaken for possible onlooking eyes. Hand washing the suit is a challenge, the fabric feeling like it was 100 pounds once it soaked up water. The water is a murky and deep red, making you grimace. After the workout that rinsing and hanging the suit turned out to be, your next chore is figuring out how to sew up the holes. YouTube becomes your best friend, sorry Kook. You throw the suit haphazardly into a towel, lugging the still damp suit back.

“Y/nnnnn…” You can hear Jungkook whining from your room just as you finish up your chores, immediately rushing to see if he’s alright. He remains in bed, still completely tucked in to his chin. “Come lay with me, it’s lonely and cold here. I wanna be held.”

At his last statement, you can’t help but laugh at him. “You need to get some rest.” You answer, shoving more blanket underneath him.

“I did, I just woke up from my nap. Come on.” He protests, untucking and opening the blankets up to you. Sighing, you take the invitation as you quickly come to your senses and aren’t gonna win this time. “What have you been up to?” He asks, raising an eyebrow at you.

“Cleaning up your mess.” You smile, leaning back to fully look at his face. You can only catch a glimpse before he’s complaining, pulling you into his chest closer to him. You can’t help but smile, easily slotting yourself in between his arms. Your legs tangle together as the both of you get comfortable, using his bicep as your pillow for the time being.

"Do you remember the last time we were like this?" Jungkook asks, a small chuckle following his question. Confused, you pull away slightly to give him a questioning look. "When I had a nightmare and freaked out on you? And kept asking you if you were ok?"

"Oh, yeah. Why are you thinking about that right now, Kook?"

"It was about you, you know?" He states, his voice wavering slightly as he recalls the nightmare. Your heart feels like it's about to break for the millionth time that morning. "I wasn't able to save you, I was too slow and you fell. It was so vivid, it felt so real. Y-you hit the ground and when I walked over to you, you weren't moving. It scared me, bad." You listen in silence, allowing him to finish whatever he had left. "And when you woke me up, that felt like a dream. Like the two somehow got switched and waking up next to you was the dream, and that's why I had to check your arm. It honestly scared me so bad, that I wanted to distance myself from you because I was just so afraid of it actually becoming reality."

"It's okay Kook, I promise it's not going to happen. The distancing thing though, that was kind of shitty of you." You joke, able to pull a small chuckle from him. "I'll always be here for you, Kook, whenever you need me to."

"I'll always be here too, y/n. "

"Wanna hear some good news?" You smile, pushing yourself back into his chest as you get comfortable again. “I can proudly say your suit is fixed, ready for use once again. But not now, not until you heal. That's where I'm drawing the line.” You quickly add, to which he only laughs at you. Laying with him, you only now realize how much you’ve actually missed him these past few months.

“You’re the best. What would I do without you.” He smiles, tilting his head down to place a kiss on top of your hair. He doesn’t say anything after that, allowing his chin to rest on top of your head as he drifts off to sleep once more. You spend the entire morning holding one another, somehow scared to lose each other yet soaking up the touch. It’s not until you feel moisture that you pull away from him, searching for it.

“I have to change your bandages.” You sigh, slipping from his arms as you collect more supplies. Jungkook remains half asleep as you change the bled-through gauze, small hums the only reaction he gives you. Finally finished, a soft smile overtakes your face as he sleeps peacefully. Your hand finds his hair as you sit next to him, softly stroking his soft hair.

“Hm?” Jungkook hums, peeling his eyes open slightly.

“Nothing Kook.” You smile. “You can go back to sleep.”

“...Where did my shirt go?” He asks, glancing down at his bandaged chest. “If you wanted to see me shirtless that bad, you could’ve just said so.” He teases, hand jokingly grabbing your thigh.

“Ugh, next time I'll let you bleed out.” You roll your eyes, slapping his hand away from you. Making breakfast (that Jungkook insisted on helping with) and getting him painkillers, the near-death scare is finally coming to an end.

Jungkook’s with you, and he’s safe. You’re both on good terms again, more than good, and happy. Eating breakfast, the two of you unconsciously seek each other's touch. With legs tangled with one another underneath the table, and hands brushing more often than accidental, the two of you are finally content.

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coco-loco-nut · 1 month

Text

The Black Dog

pairing: Pierre x Reader

summary: You still mourn your relationship with Pierre

requests open masterlist TTPD masterlist

—————————

The past six months have drained the life out of you. Your relationship completely collapsed and you found yourself alone. It takes every ounce of strength to not reach out to Pierre, because up until recently you shared your secrets with each other and shared your location.

All it takes is one night on the couch with a bottle of wine to open the app you’ve resisted opened for the longest time. You didn’t want to see the app without his name on it and your silly profile picture that he hated but you adored because it was your Pierre. What you don’t expect is to almost drop your glass of wine when his icon is still there. He forgot to turn it off.

Against your better judgment, you zoom in, watching as he enters a bar called The Black Dog, one you frequented together. The thought of him going alone without you, and you going without him, pierces holes in your heart, reopening the wound. How doesn’t he miss you when he goes there? You can’t understand.

It sends you into a spiral, thinking about what he’s doing there.

Maybe he is there with a girl who is a bit too young for him. It’s a Thursday, so the band Pierre and you loved will be playing. Pierre requested a song a couple weeks after they were there and it became a staple in their repertoire. The song that you two loved, the song that played in your mind as you danced in the kitchen late at night, the song that you both swore would play at your wedding. Pierre would jump of his seat, the same one he always sat in when the two of you went. The view of the band was slightly obstructed but you always thought the lighting was perfect, that Pierre just looked so perfect in that light, he thought the same for you. When those first notes played, he’d jump out of the seat and extend his hand to you -now her- and offer a dance. She would look at Pierre confused and doesn’t get up or take his hand, instead giving him her drink order, assuming that he wanted to go to the bar. Then he would realize that she wasn’t you, she didn’t know the song, she didn’t share his habit. Old habits die screaming.

You’ve spent the past months moving through the world for your new job. It was a small mercy to have to relocate while heartbroken over your relationship. When your friends check in on you, you always act okay. They will never understand why you still long for the relationship, so you never tell them.

“Promise me that you will open up again, don’t let yourself close again. The world needs you in it,” Pierre said during the breakup, tears in his eyes.

“I may never open up the way I did for you,” your voice is shaky as you admit it. Pierre brought out the best in you. He noticed right away how reserved you were, and he promised you that he’d be a brave man so you could open up too. He was, and soon you believe you needed a brave man.

You step out into the pouring rain in Milan. The streets are familiar comfort. Your company booked a hotel painfully close to Pierre’s apartment. The sensation is similar to the one of your first fight. You wonder if Pierre thinks of it in the shower and misses it.

Your rain-soaked body standing in the streets as you quietly argued about something.

“Do you hate me?” you ask, tears mixed with the rain.

“God no, I could never. I’m sorry, mon amour, this fight is trivial,” Pierre pulls you into a hug, pressing a kiss to your lips in apology.

“I love you, Pierre,” you say for the first time. You silently wondered if the trivial argument was hazing for the cruel sorority of WAGs that you had to pledge. If it was, you’d do it every time to be with Pierre.

To this day, you still mean what you said in the rain. Even after six months, you still miss him. You miss him so much it makes you angry. The wondering about what he was doing and how he spoke of you to his friends made you want to set fire to this god forsaken city. Maybe you should hire a priest to exorcise whatever demon is living in you, even if you die screaming. You hope Pierre would hear about it, then maybe he would know how much you are hurting.

You shake out of your trance and walk back into your hotel, taking a warm shower and put on clean clothes.

“Come on, Y/n, we are going to a bar down the street,” your coworker knocks on your door. Alcohol. Alcohol would help you drown Pierre from your thoughts.

You approach the all too familiar bar and you want to dig your heels into the ground and not go in. Maybe you are being irrational, he’s probably racing this weekend. You weren’t wrong, except they are racing in Monza.

Your stomach flips as you hear the live band, it’s Thursday. You order your usual, saying hello to the person who was your favorite bartender, and sit in the booth with your coworkers, one that has a perfect view of the bar, and shitty lighting. You throw your drink back.

You walk back up to the bar, needing another shot. You can’t help but to look at the booth you used to haunt. Pierre is looking equally miserable as you. He looks like he wants to be anywhere but here and like he will be sick as a girl who is absolutely not his type sits in your spot.

“He hasn’t been the same since you left, never makes it past your song when he’s forced to bring a girl on a date. He leaves with his tail between his legs, like a puppy,” the bartender says, pouring you a gummy bear shot because you never were able to take a normal shot, noticing your longing eyes.

“I can’t believe he’s here, that I’m here,” you throw the shot back, ordering another drink to sip.

“He still gets up on reflex, I am starting to think he pictures you sitting across from him,” the bartender adds, and the band seems to notice you too. “Go for it, you two look equally miserable,” the bartender says as the first few notes are played by the band. You watch Pierre get up from the booth as you walk around the bar. His eyes are on his empty hand, not noticing you. You take his hand.

“Y/n?” The ghost of your name on his lips like a prayer. You still can’t believe he’s here.

“Pierre,” you smile softly, dancing with him to the music, everything right in the world for those couple minutes. The girl leaves your seat and the bar. You take your rightful spot across from Pierre and everything feels right again.

“What are you doing here? Last time I checked you were living in New Zealand,” Pierre asks, heart pounding.

“Work, sorry if this is weird, my coworkers chose the bar. We were sitting in a booth and it didn’t feel right sitting there,” you laugh a little.

“I’m so glad that you are here, I’ve missed you so much,” he grabs your hand, pressing a kiss to it.

“I’ve missed you too. You never turned off your location either,” you point out, his face flaming.

“What were we doing? I’ve been miserable without you,” Pierre admits.

“I don’t know, but I’ve been miserable too,” you tell him, the band’s music in the background taking you back to when you and Pierre were together.

“Are you busy this weekend?”

“Why?”

“I have an extra paddock pass, it would mean the world to me for you to watch from the garage,” all you can do is nod.

“I should get back to my coworkers,” you sigh.

“Even though you’d rather stay with me?” Pierre reads your mind, you nod in confirmation. “I’ll join you,” Pierre grabs his front and follows you to the large booth that isn’t right because it isn’t yours. Pierre sits beside you, an arm around your waist.

“I’ll walk you back to your hotel,” Pierre says, kissing the side of your head. You were ready to leave but your coworkers wanted to stay.

“Thanks, Pierrot,” his heart flutters at the nickname. He follows you to your hotel, a block from his apartment.

“Want me to pick you up on my way to the track?” Pierre asks, leaning against the wall beside your hotel room.

“I’ll have meetings during free practice one, I can find my way there for free practice two,” you say, making no move to go inside your room.

“I’ll leave the pass for you at the front desk, then maybe we can get dinner at that little restaurant you like after?” Pierre asks and you nod.

“Pierre, what are we doing?” you ask, looking at him.

“I don’t know, but I do know that I’d like to try again. I’ve been happier the past few hours than I have been in months,” he admits.

“I’d like that too,” you agree. Pierre moves off the wall, his hands holding your head gently as he kisses you.

Yuki and Charles are happy to see you again, and on Sunday, Pierre finally has something to race for. He makes it into P8 and you are so proud.

Pierre spends the off week getting reacquainted with you when you aren’t working. You spend a couple nights in his apartment, happy to see nothing has changed.

“We are making this work this time,” Pierre says as he holds you close, dancing to your song at the bar, the night before you fly back to New Zealand.

“I’m glad you were here last week,” you rest your head on his shoulder as you sway.

“Old habits die screaming,” he says softly.

When you and Pierre get married, that band plays at your wedding reception, and your first dance is to your song.

#f1 imagines #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 grid x reader #f1 grid #pierre gasly x reader #pierre gasly imagines #pierre gasly imagine #pierre gasly #the tourtured poets department

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hollyhomburg · 6 months

Text

I haven’t had an idea about hybrids in a long long time but 🥺 what about pup hybrid koo who gets abandoned by his owners for being too high energy, who waits by the door every day for them to come back, doesn’t like to talk to other humans because they’re not his owner but then slowly, the volunteer who comes into his room to talk to him every day and eat his meals with him and feed him treats starts to chip away at his heart and adopts him.

only to have him wake up Literally lying on top of them, deal with him breaking out of the house and following them to work, everywhere- jk is just so worried about being left behind again but! It’s a good thing his owner is really understanding and doesn’t mind that he’s a clingy little puppy.

And of course Doberman! jk is also still covered with tattoos just like irl jk 🥺 big floppy ears hanging over his face, the breed and tattoos usually turn people off from adopting him because Dobermans you know- they’re /protection/ dogs, they don’t see jks wide terrified eyes hidden behind his big ears. They just see the tattoos and piercings and walk the other way. Im imagining the first time jk ever falls asleep on the m/c, head on her lap, her fingers rubbing against the spot on the back of them where they’re sensitive and tingly saying to herself “at least he didn’t doc your ears, I would have expected- given the other /modifications/ he made to you, that he’d have done that. At least he had the decency to leave them alone”

And she asks cuz of course she does, why jks old owner covered him with tattoo’s and maybe she should have waited until he was more awake but jk just says “liked to come with hyung to work, saved his best designs for me”

Maybe years later they have a run in with Jks old owner and it’s one of the other boys, tattoo artist yoongi maybe? but 🥺 jk finally gets his closure because he finds out yoongi didn’t abandon him he just got into an accident and was in a coma for 6 months and then had 18 months of re-learning how to walk after that. How to do art, how to tattoo again and yoongis finally back on his feet. Even when he was in a wheelchair yoongi never stopped going to different shelters to try and find Jk. Yoongi never gave up looking for his pup 🥺

Imagine tattoo artist yoongi with arms full of pretty floral tattoos in the same style as the ones on jk’s arm 🥺 and the m/c once again questions him about it and jk gives her the honest answer of “I asked for them”

Maybe jk is now faced with the horrible choice of being the one who leaves his new owner who he loves a lot and going back to the person who he once missed more than anything! Of course his little pup brain just comes up with the simple solution! They both just have to move in together to look after him! That way he gets both!! And only- the m/c and yoongi are really opposites- but they decide to try and make being roommates work if only because jk deserves it.

And maybe yoongi starts taking care of her too because he always did let jungkook depend on him lots 🥺 for cooking and brushing out his long fluffy hair and showers after boxing class. And yoongi fusses because around her work schedule she forgets to eat a bunch and he ends up going to drop off lunches because honestly- the tatto shop kinda runs it’s self since namjoon and taehyung took over during yoongis accident- they never met jk because they only bought into the business after yoongis accident when he had to sell off half of it to cover his medical bills (I’m picturing calico mini- a new addition, who took over jks job of checking people in for their appointments and answering the phone)

But anyway back to yoongi and his babying It’s natural for him to say “up!” To her (a total accident he swears) when she’s wearing a soaked shirt after coming in from the rain, blushing hard, but kinda grinning when she follows obediently. Because jk always liked it when yoongi would dress him 🥺 hyungs perfect little puppy doll all pliant and good. And it would be okay if only she didn’t slip up too! Accidentally calling yoongi a good boy on more than one occasion or going in for a “good pup kiss” cuz jk is like- kinda a kissy puppy, likes good morning kisses and thank you for putting your dishes away and “I missed you cuz you just peed kisses and I was worried a monster was gonna eat you in the bathroom” kisses. Jk has them both very well trained.

Of course he’d tease her endlessly for that. “Maybe we should get you a pair of puppy ears for Halloween if you’re gonna listen to me the way that jk does” “yeah? I’ll get you a pair of kitty ears and tatto whiskers on you in your sleep” only what if one day yoongi reveals he actually does have whisker tattoos they’re just black light 😭

Only why don’t they kiss each other the way they give him good boy kisses 🥺 why don’t they cuddle each other like they cuddle him??? Why don’t they good hands the way they hold hands with him when he goes out so that they don’t get lost! Jk has to remedy this right away 😠 he can’t loose either of them ever again so he’s gotta set them up!!!

#bts fluff #bts #bts hybrid au #hybrid jungkook

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rapz-rites · 10 months

Text

Hearts

Damian Wayne x Reader

You and your soulmate can feel each other's heartbeat

A/N: for @thesuperiorrobin btw I started writing this super late at night so it might not be the best but I hope you all like this

Word Count: 1.1k+

Warning(s): Barely proofread, loophole cursewords

You jolted up from your sleep. 4 times a week, 3 if you’re lucky. Like clockwork. Your soulmate's heart beats so fast, so hard, it wakes you up. You would think he was having a heart attack.

You don’t know what your soulmate does that gets his heart beating so fast in the middle of the night. You found this whole heartbeat soulmate thing so stupid. Of all the things you and your soulmate had to share, a heartbeat, seriously?

On everyone’s 10th birthday, they start “sharing” their soulmate's heartbeat. It's not really sharing though, so you didn't understand why they explained it that way. Probably to romanticize it.

You couldn’t go back to sleep until about 4am. But that didn’t matter because your alarm went off 2 hours later. You hated your life. Not only did you get no sleep because of your stupid soulmate but you had to get ready for school, a school filled with pompous a-holes. Luckily it was your last year and you only had a few more months left until you graduated.

You walk into class late, everyone looking up at you. Luckily for you, your teacher is nice enough to let it slide.

“Hey” you said to the boy you usually sat by. His name was Damian, Damian Wayne. Yup. As in Billionaire “playboy” Bruce Wayne.

“What now L/N?” He asked. He looked up at you with an annoyed expression. Damn. Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed.

“Do you think you could help me with number 5?” You looked at him with pleading eyes. “Pretty please.”

“Sure.” And he did. You didn’t really need help, you just wanted to bother and talk to Damian.

The two of you were close acquaintances but not friends. He was you favorite pompous rich a-hole and you were one the most tolerable people at GA to Damian

After this class you were done. You were transferring books to and from your backpack when your best friend, Lienne, pulled up next to you.

“What are you doing after school? Do you want to have a sleep-” If you didn’t stop her now it would turn into an investigation.

“I’m working at the clinic after school, but I can come over after and we can have a sleepover all you want,” you smiled at her.

“Ok. See you after work. Oh, and bring those chips I like please,” she says walking away. You chuckled at her.

You worked at a pet shop clinic. You loved it. You weren’t a people person, you were a pet person. I loved cats, dogs, and hamsters. Any domestic house pet you could get your hands on, you loved it. They were so much easier to deal with than people.

You were peacefully playing with a hamster while it was quiet in the store. Suddenly 2 men rush in. You put the hamster back in its cage and turned to the 2 men. They both looked like they were freaking out.

“We need your help! Like it's an emergency,” the tall one said. He had jet black hair and a white streak at the front. Then the second one spoke up.

“It’s our brother's cat,” the other one said. He was shorter, maybe 5’10/11. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days. He handed you an adorable little tuxedo cat. You couldn’t help but awe at it.

“Sure, what happened? Our vet is currently busy, but I can check him out and get him to see him as soon as possible.” you walked them into an exam room in the clinic. As you were assessing the cat, your boss walked in.

“What's going on here?” He asked. You explained what happened and gave your assessment of the cat to your boss. He complimented you on your good work and took over. You were happy until you felt a strain on your heart. Something was wrong with your soulmate. It felt like he was having a panic attack or something. You went to the front of the store to sit down. You were trying to steady your heartbeat to cancel his out. But of course as you sat down, someone walked in. It was none other than Damian Wayne.

“Where’s Alfred? Where’s my cat?” he asked. You walked up to him to get his attention. You were holding onto his arm while he was looking around frantically.

“Your cat? Is he a tuxedo cat?” He immediately looked down at you. “You’ve seen Alfred? Where is he?”

“Your brothers brought him in,” you explained to him calmly. You were already trying to calm your soulmate’s heartbeat and now you have to calm a frantic billionaire son. He was spouting nonsense you didnt want to listen to while you ushered him to a chair.

“Listen Wayne,” you said, shutting him up. “Your brothers brought him in. I assessed him and the vet is now with him. He's going to be fine”

You could tell your words helped, but he was still anxious. It was kinda cute that he cared this much for a cat. One time you saw him roll his eyes at a school assembly about suicide. But he was still breathing heavily. At this point your heartbeat was calm but you could still feel your soulmate’s fast heart.

You took Damian’s hand and put it over your heart, and you did the same to him. That's when you felt it. People who already met their soulmates said once you know it's this indescribable, thrilling feeling. They were right. It was like time stopped and nothing else mattered. Your hearts synced and that's all you both felt. You both stared into each other’s eyes. You opened your mouth to speak but was interrupted.

“Are we interrupting something?” The tall brother asked. You quickly moved back from Damian, putting your hands at your side.

“Yes”

“No”

You both spoke in unison. You looked at him, but he was glaring at his brothers.

“So what did Dr. Goldwin say?” you asked, smiling before it got awkward.

“OMG OMG OMG!” Lienne squealed, jumping around her room. “YOUR SOULMATE IS DAMIAN WAYNE.”

You weren’t surprised at her reaction when you told her. She always had a knack for the dramatics. As she was jumping around, spouting how beautiful your wedding was going to be, you got a text from your “future husband”.

Damian ☹️: Hello Y/N

Let’s go out on a date Saturday

Send me your address and I'll pick you up at 2pm

Y/N : I’d love to go out with you 😉

You’ll tell Lienne once she calms down. She's going to freak.

So… what do you think???

I’m working on request so plz don’t think I forgot abt those.

#damian wayne x reader #damian wayne #damian al ghul #damian al ghul x reader #damian wayne x female reader #damian wayne x y/n #damian wayne x you #batfam #batfam x reader #dcau #dc universe #dc comics #jason todd #tim drake #damian al ghul wayne #damian al ghul x female reader

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ethansluvbot · 1 year

Note

Hey can you do Jack Champion x Actress!Reader, Where Jack has a crush on her and he like dms her?

FLAWLESS | JACK CHAMPION

summary: jacks had a crush on you for a while now. she's a great actress that he admires. one night he decides its time to finally message her.

warnings: none just fluff :)

an: sorry this is so so so short. i’m so sick so i’ll get to the request and write extra today!! i hope this is how you expected it :)

liked by jennaortega, baileybliss, jackchampion, and others

yourusername: sending kisses from thailand!

view all comments

fan01 you’re so gorgeous, i can’t wait to see the movie!!

yourusername thank you so much!!

jackchampion are you having a good time? the view looks amazing :)

yourusername i love it, thank you!

baileybliss trying to steal my girl?

masongooding my boys trying to make a move?

fan02 you’re so stunning

fan03 THE PASTA YUM

it wasn't unnoticeable that jack has a huge crush on y/n. he was always commenting, liking and reposting her post. he watched all of the movies that she started in and rewatched the shows. he even tried to get jenna to set you two up.

he would've made a move earlier but he was afraid of rejection. maybe it was the fact that he had alcohol in his system that he messaged you.

all he said was a simple hey, "really?" he thought to himself. he should've said something to intrigue her more. he threw his phone and ran away acting like a little girl. it was probably about ten minutes later that he finally decided to check his phone.

y/n scrolled through her messages until she saw his name pop up. all he said was a simple greeting, but you still was amused by it. she tapped the message quickly thinking of the best thing to send back.

hi :)

it shocked him that he even got a reply back. he tried his best to understand what just happened to him. (he’d probably start kicking his feet like a little girl)

i’m going to be honest, i don’t know what to say because i’m still in shock

that was the only thing that could come out after 20 minutes of thinking. she replied pretty quickly to him.

ill give you time to process this ;) i’m going out to lunch, maybe you can join me?

hell yes :)

jack spent at least a half an hour trying to pick a outfit. after he still didn’t figure it out he resorted to calling his mom. which she helped him pick out a outfit quickly.

it was a understatement to say jack was nervous. this is all he wanted. he wanted her. he got into the car and drove to the panera. to be honest he wasn't the biggest fan of panera, but he did it all for her. he would do anything for her.

she sat there waiting with a fresh bowl of soup. he was at least 30 minutes late to their "date". the sound of the bell from the door made her meet the eyes of jack. she smiled waving him over to her.

"hey! sorry i'm late, i couldn't pick out an outfit to wear." she nodded to him. why did she make him that nervous? it's not like they never interacted before. maybe only one or two times.

"i promise i'm friendly," she said brushing her hand against him. that didn't calm any of his nerves. he would just have to be himself and hope she would accept him.

an hour later they finally began to laugh together. it was almost like they had known each other for a long time. he wondered if she actually thought about him more than a friend.

"i really do like you, no matter what i'll wait for you." jack said. you both finished up your lunch and were getting ready to leave. you looked up to him meeting his puppy dog eyes. no one could say no to that.

you looked at his lips and then directly into his eyes. leaning up you attached yourself to his lips. your arm reaching up to curl in his hair.

"i'll text you later stranger," she gave him once last kiss on the lips. she never met someone like her. someone that she could spend her life laughing with. she wondered if something would actually happen between them.

#jack champion x reader #jack champion #jack champion imagine #ethan landry imagine #ethan landry #ethan landry smut #ethan landry x reader #avtar #atwow imagines #spider socorro #scream 6 #scream #scream 6 imagines

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happiest-hotch · 11 months

Note

Can you write something summer-y for Hotch? Maybe he comes home early from a case and finds Reader and Jack having fun in the pool? Or anything that gives that summer feeling lol

One of the best things about living with Aaron and Jack, aside from getting to live with your favorite people in the world, is the pool.

You didn’t understand why it was such a deal breaker for him since he and Jack barely used the one at his old apartment, until summer rolled around and with it, the heat.

DC’s heatwave would have killed you without a pool.

Jack had jumped in right after soccer day camp and after an hour of cooling off, he finally agreed on coming inside for dinner. The routine is a little more relaxed when Aaron’s away, even more so when it’s summer vacation.

That reason alone is probably why he easily convinced you to get back in the pool after dinner and TV, just before bedtime.

But it’s Friday and wearing him out means he’ll sleep to mid morning Saturday and hopefully it serves as a distraction from him missing his dad. Night time is usually when he misses his dad the most do you do what’s possible to ensure he’s asleep as son as his head his the pillow.

Aaron has echoed the same feeling when you talk to him on the phone, and he definitely has it worse, halfway across the country in Dallas where the weather is switching between thunderstorms and extreme humidity.

“You wanna play Marco Polo?” You ask Jack, distracting yourself from looking at the barbecue and remembering Aaron grilling just before he left.

He splashes some water your way before answering. “Okay, you go first. I’ve been practicing holding my breath though so you’ll lose.”

His identical competitive spirit to Aaron’s doesn’t go unnoticed by you and you grin as you splash some water back.

You cup your hand over your eyes, listening to him splash away from you. “Marco!” You call.

“Polo.” The reply came from a voice far too deep to being to an eight year old and you pull your hands off your eyes to see Aaron standing by the pool’s edge.

“Daddy!” Jack exclaims, jumping out of the pool and running over to hug Aaron. He’s soaking wet, dripping with chlorinated water, but Aaron don’t hesitate to hug him. He shed his jacket and tie, but you’re not sure how he’s coping with how hot it is in a long sleeve shirt and dress pants.

“Hey, bud.” Aaron greets him. “What are you doing up at…” He pauses to check the time on his watch, eyes darting to you still in the pool. “…8:42.”

You give Aaron your best puppy dog eyes, although you know he’s not mad. “Swimming, duh.” Jack replies, sassy as always.

You bite back a chuckle as Aaron does the same thing. “Yeah, I gathered that.” He says.

“Come in.” Jack insists. “You have to.”

“It’s late and you should probably be in bed already.” Aaron says, taking the firm line like you expected he would.

It’s okay though because you have a plan. “Can you give me a hand up?” You ask, swimming to the edge and holding your hand out.

Aaron frowns slightly, but he’s too excited to see you to ask why you won’t use the stairs. “Sure.” He reaches out to grab your hand but you pull hard, overpowering him easily since he doesn’t expect it.

You quickly swim out of the way, and he lands in the pool behind you, yelping- hilariously- when he hits the water.

Jack’s laughing with you, thoroughly amused by your mischief and enjoying seeing his professionally dressed dad in the pool.

When Aaron surfaces, he’s failing too glare at you. He’d fully commit to the bit of being annoyed if he wasn’t smiling so widely.

“You’re naughty.” Aaron says, waggling his finger at you.

You swim closer to him, brushing some hair off his forehead. “Welcome home.”

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #criminal minds #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner fic

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plainemmanem · 1 year

Note

kissing best friend!steve🫠🫠

pining, obsessed steve? you got it<3

⊹₊┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ✿ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈₊⊹

"Do you ever think about the time we first met?"

Steve peers over his drink, his eyes skeptical and focused in on you from across the table, anxiously awaiting your answer.

"You’re my best friend," you shrug, eyes staring down into your mug at the remnants of your milkshake. “Of course I remember the time we first met.”

That wasn’t necessarily his question, but he’ll take what he can get.

He swallows harsh. “How’d it go?”

You eye him suspiciously, quickly noting the nervous thrum of his fingers on the table between you.

He’s been quiet all night. And Steve’s never quiet when he’s with you. Not during your weekly Friday dinners at the diner.

Steve’s always been a talker, ranting and rambling about work and his parents and the possibility of school. You were the only person he ever really opened up to about these things; the only person he ever felt comfortable enough to tell.

So, he knew you would notice something was off right away. He kept turning the conversation to you, listening with a far off stare. He didn’t chat up the waitress like he usually did, or bicker with you about the radio on the drive over.

But he can’t help it. His brain was going a million miles a minute and his palms were starting to sweat and he’s really never felt so nervous in his entire life.

Tonight is the night. Tonight’s the night Steve comes clean about his feelings for you – all those sickly, sweet feelings he’s been wanting to tell you ever since he met you.

Like how much he adores your laugh and your smile and the smell of your perfume. And the way you always keep extra tissues in your pocket when you know he has a cold. And how you always save him the seat next to you for movie night. And how you always ask him if he’s eaten that day and had a glass of water. And how Friday is his favorite day of the week because he gets to see you. And how he wishes he could see you every day. And how he’s never felt so lovesick before in his life. And how he really, really has to tell you he needs you because he doesn’t think he can keep it from you for much longer. And how he can’t stand being near you and not being able to kiss you when you smile at him like that. And how he hopes to god you feel the same way because he doesn’t think he can take losing you.

But he can’t say all that. He physically cannot say all that.

Secretly, he’s been silently hoping you would just figure out his feelings by yourself already, so he wouldn’t have to muster up the courage to tell you himself.

It’s genuinely concerning you haven’t noticed already; he shows you his infatuation nearly every time you two are together. He’ll kneel down to tie your shoe for you when it comes undone. And he constantly calls you “just to hear your voice.” And he’ll rub your arms in the freezer section of the grocery store so you don’t get cold because you refuse to just take his jacket. And he still wears that silly friendship bracelet you made him in the tenth grade because he’s too afraid to lose it if he takes it off. And he always, without a doubt, gives you half of his food at the diner, even if he hasn’t eaten all day.

The poor boy’s practically obsessed with you, but you never seem to notice – always off in your own little world, leaving Steve to trail behind you like a lovesick, little puppy.

But he doing the whole puppy dog act tonight. He wasn’t doing anything tonight. He was a wet blanket dripping all over the booth tonight. And he was acting nervous.

And you still couldn’t figure out why.

So, by the time you both finished dinner and your waitress brought the check, you were just a touch annoyed.

“‘How’d it go?’” you repeated, truthfully understanding the question, but just wanting to give Steve a hard time.

“Sure, you know. The first time we met… how’d it go?” he asks again, unsure how to make himself any clearer.

Under the table, his foot had started to mimic the nervous tapping of his fingers. Your eyes snapped to his hand, then the bottom lip between his teeth (nervous habit), then down to your purse next to you in the booth.

“Well,” your brows furrow at the check near the end of the table as you blindly start feeling around your purse for some bills, “I seem to recall it was at the mall? You were in that adorable getup with the hat and the socks… and Robin was there–” You turn your full attention down to your purse, looking at it, offended.

Steve’s eyes narrow on you from across the booth.

“Ah!” You finally pull a crumbled up twenty from the bottomless pit that is your purse.

He really needs to remind you to clean that thing out again.

“Where was I?” you ask innocently over at him, “Oh, right. Robin… Robin, Robin. Oh! She told me you were gonna hit on me and that I should shoot you down no matter what.” You finish with a triumphant smile, the memory drifting back into your mind.

He’s always liked when you smile like that. Like he’s the butt of the joke.

“Right right,” he nods, eyes dropping back to the empty glass in front of him.

You seem to be waiting for him to just come out with it, to just say whatever it is that’s been eating him all night.

But he can’t. Something about the moment feels off.

He’s afraid to peek up and catch your icy glare drilling into him, until he hears you let out another huff as you start shimmying out of the diner booth without him.

“Wh–?” You were already halfway towards the door. His hand swipes up the twenty-dollar bill you left as he digs into his back pocket for his own wallet. He tugs out a twenty of his own and replaces it on the table. He tosses out a five as well – should be enough for a tip – before he spots the forgotten purse on your seat and swipes that up, too, sticking your money back in the rightful pocket of your bag before jogging after you.

He's caught up to you just as you've reached the diner door, and you quickly drop it in his face, opting instead to head towards his car in a dramatic huff.

Eyes rolling, Steve swings the glass door back open, his foot making it about half-way through the exit before the hostess calls out to him.

"You finally gonna bite the bullet and tell her tonight, Stevie boy?" she chides him.

"Har, har, Janet. Very funny," he grumbles, tucking your purse under his arm to preserve some of his dignity.

"See you next week, Harrington," she chuckles, looking back down at the desk in front of her.

God. Is he that obvious?

Shaking the fear from his mind, he bursts back out into the warm, summer air, trailing a step or two after you.

"I didn’t hit on you, by the way," he insists, unlocking the car and jogging over to open the passenger side for you.

You slide in, your belly laugh cut off as he closes the door on you.

Once again, he's found himself to be the butt of the joke. He still doesn't mind all that much.

A smile starts to creep onto his lips upon hearing your laughter, but the grin quickly fades as he remembers the severity of his situation. Steeling his nerves, Steve strides around the hood to the driver's seat.

You're just gonna… go in there and just...Tell her. Just say what you feel, Harrington, c'mon. Best case scenario, she feels the same. Worst case scenario, she laughs in your face.

He grips the door handle, but can't seem to muster up the courage to get in just yet. He catches sight of you through the window, riffling through his glovebox, no doubt looking for the mixtape he made for you all those months ago. You spot the one with his writing on the side – crisp, clean – like he took far too much care in writing it. It's just your name on the side, nothing fancy, but he wanted to make it clear this tape was for you in particular. No one else.

Christ, you're becoming a problem.

He grits his teeth and hops inside as you load up the tape, still chuckling to yourself from earlier. Steve bites back another smile.

"Why's that funny? I didn't hit on you when you came in, I was perfectly civil–"

"Steve, you asked me what color lipstick I was wearing and if I had any plans that night," you shoot him a smirk as you reach for your seatbelt.

A blush warms his cheeks at the memory; he thought you would have forgotten.

He clears his throat and starts the ignition, turning in his seat and throwing his arm around your headrest to reverse, actively avoiding your gaze.

"I– uh, don't remember that."

"You're such a terrible liar, Steve," you smile through the words, whistfully, like he has no idea what he’s gotten himself into.

A chuckle bubbles up in his chest and he can't help but peek over at your smile. Now fussing with the buttons of the stereo, you listen for the song you want to hear.

You look pretty just sitting in his passenger seat, the sun gently setting through the whisps of your hair.

His eyes snap back to his rear window.

The car jolts to life as it swings out of the parking lot. Steve knows the way to your house by heart, but he always insists on taking the longer route back on Fridays.

"I'm actually an amazing liar, thank you very much," he mutters casually, adjusting his rearview mirror and merging onto the road.

"No, Steve, you're not," you finally find the right song and turn up the volume a touch - loud enough to hear the lyrics, but soft enough for you two to hold a conversation.

Steve likes this song. He likes all the songs on this tape because they remind him of you – Friday night drives back to your place, close proximity in his car, those butterflies in his stomach when your gaze turns on him.

"Y/N, I am so good at poker, your brain couldn’t even handle it–"

"Being good at poker doesn't necessarily mean you're good at lying, Steve. Just means you're good at reading people."

"Well that, too," he gives you a cocky look before snapping back to the road. "I'm a man of many talents."

"Pshhh," you smack his arm, as if he's said something particularly funny.

"Ow– Wha–? What is so fucking funny?" He shoots you a look across the car, half shocked, half annoyed.

"Nothing," you're giggling through your words once again, "Nothing, Steve."

"What, you don't think I have any talents?" He's accusatory now, leaning towards you for dramatic effect, his eyes still trained on the road.

"No! No, I didn't say that." A wave of seriousness washes over you, but it's quickly replaced with a sincere lightness, a gentle smile as you look at him. "I think you're plenty talented, Steve."

He scoffs, "Don't take that tone with me."

"What tone?" your voice bounces around the car, "I'm not taking any tone."

"That teasing tone, that 'Oh, yeah. Sure, Steve, whatever you say' tone."

You giggle at his poor impression of you, and he can't help the dopey smile that spreads across his face. He can never stay annoyed with you for too long.

You’ve turned your attention back to his glovebox now. He can tell you're reorganizing the tapes stowed there in a very particular order. He strains his eyes a bit to catch the titles. They’re ordered from left to right – his favorites to his least favorites. They’re definitely easier for him to reach from the driver's seat now.

His chest aches at your actions, how you subconsciously think of him, and a warm smile envelops his face. He thinks about how he'd rearrange every tape you've ever owned if it meant making your life a fraction easier.

Your hands freeze and you spin to face him. A silly smile slips onto your own lips and Steve’s breath hitches.

"What’re you smiling about?" you question coyly.

His grip on the wheel tightens and his eyes snap back to the road. He needs to contain himself.

"You always patronize me." He's grasping at straws, but he knows it'll distract you from the nervous hand running through his hair and the nibbling of his bottom lip.

“Patronize y–? Well, I'm sorry you feel that way, but I wasn't patronizing you just now. I was being sincere." You go back to sifting through his glovebox, muttering to yourself, "Surprised you can even use that word in a sentence…”

His eyes drift back down to your deft, pretty fingers, that bright, pristine nail polish, and he has to steel himself once again. There could be dents on the wheel by the time he pulls in your driveway.

A heavy sigh leaves him as he reaches up to anxiously adjust his rearview mirror. He knows he looks nervous as hell; he just hopes you're too wrapped up in your own little world to notice.

You don't seem to, now picking at your pretty manicure and tapping your foot to the music gliding through the speakers.

Steve passes your street sign and he can't stop the impending dread that washes over him at the idea of you no longer sitting in his car. He always hates the drive back to his place after he drops you off - your warmth still mingling in the air, but he can't quite get a hold of it. He likes that your perfume lingers when you leave, and the smell of your shampoo, but he just hates how it fades so quickly, until he gets to smell it again next Friday.

Pulling into your driveway, his stomach drops. It really is now or never.

He switches off the ignition, leaving you two in the warm darkness of the summer night, surrounded by that hazy light right after sunset. Only bits and pieces of your silhouette are visible from the dashboard light, but you’re still as stunning as always.

A heated look passes between you two before you're gathering up your things to leave, mindful to take your tape out of the stereo, replacing it with his favorite one for his ride home.

Your hand reaches for the handle as you start your goodbye.

"Kay, well, I'll see you next week, okay–"

But he stops you with a hand around your wrist. A silent plead for you to stay.

His heart is in his throat. Your pulse is so strong beneath his fingers. He swears he hears your breath catch.

“Y/N," his voice was low, unsure, like he was still thinking of what exactly to say.

"Yeah?" you give him a worried expression, tuned into his serious tone.

"I…"

But the words were caught in his throat, lips unable to form the words.

"I… I forgot." He deflates just a fraction and rubs your wrist once with his thumb before dropping it.

"Geez, Steve. Don't scare me like that. Thought you were gonna say you hate me or something like that." You chuckle as you swing the passenger door open.

Hate you? Hate you?

He’s not even thinking when he pushes open the driver’s side door and jogs after you to your porch.

You stop fumbling with your front door keys and turn to confront him.

“Forgot something, Harrington–?”

But he cuts off your teasing with his lips pressed to yours.

His hands run up to your neck, his thumbs nestled under your jaw and the pads of his fingers stroking at the soft spot below your ear. Your lips are so soft, so smooth, he can’t stop the little sigh from leaving his throat. Finally, he feels you relax into him, coming up to wrap your hands around his wrists gently, melting into his touch.

Eyes squeezing shut, he’s trying to memorize the feel of you, the smell of your shampoo and the feeling of his nose brushing your soft cheek, and the way your lips move against his, trying to drag the kiss out for as long as possible.

Unfortunately, he still needs that stupid thing called oxygen and he’s forced to pull back. His hands stay at your neck, the thumbs rubbing across your jawline, as his blown pupils sweep over your face.

“I’m really, really into you, by the way,” his words come out so breathless as he looks between your swollen lips and your wide eyes.

A shaky breath escapes through your lips. “Good thing I’m into you, too, pretty boy.”

He can’t even get worked up about the nickname before he’s leaning in again, this kiss much slower, much more meaningful. His heart starts to ache from the feel of your fingers rubbing along his knuckles, and he can’t stop from smiling against your lips. Eventually, he has to stop from how sickeningly sweet his chest feels, pulling back to rub the tip of his nose up the bridge of yours with his eyes squeezed shut, his cheeks and his lungs slowly starting to ache in the best way.

He hears a content hum come from the back of your throat, and he can’t help but mimic the same sticky, sentimental sound himself.

His eyes pop back open to get a good look at you. Your cheeks are flushed and your pupils are blown; you can’t seem to contain your own smile.

“Uh… sorry, if that was a little… unexpected,” he chuckles at your smarmy grin, his hands leaving your face as he takes a bashful step back and off your porch. “I’ll, uh… see you next Friday!”

Spinning confidently on his heel, hands tucking into his pockets, he makes his way back down your walkway and to his car, leaving you there a bit speechless. He smiles to himself at your stunned silence as he reaches for the door handle. Pausing for a moment, he spins back round, riding his adrenaline high.

“I’ll call you!” he calls out to you before swinging the door open and hopping in.

You’re just left there, standing on your porch, watching him drive off, one honk of the horn and then he’s down your street.

A hand comes up to graze over your kiss swollen lips. The spot where Steve Harrington just kissed you. The spot where Steve Harrington’s lips were on yours.

Little did Steve know, you’ve been waiting for him to do that for months now…

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington smut #steve harrington

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nerdofthecentrey · 6 months

Note

Hi hi! So the lack of Sang-wook (sweet home) ficts on here is insane! So I was thinking if you could write something x GN reader (if possible) maybe something where like, sang-wook finally breaks after putting up that cold facade he always has and reader just comforts him (maybe reader being the only person in between the survivors that doesn't find him weird or scary? (Maybe a confession) take your time and feel free to ignore if you don't like this! (Just answer to it so I know if you don't want to write it I understand!)

I’ll Be There | Sang-wook x GN reader

Genre: Fluff, A bit of Angst

Summary: Sang-wook’s walls finally collapse and your the only one who understands him.

Warnings: Mentions of Killing, Normal Sweet Home Stuff

Unedited ( Will be editing tomorrow)

————————————

Sang-wook was dangerous. There was no denying his hard cold demeanor and his fearlessness to stand up for/ to anyone in the group. Everyone though he was a criminal but you knew that underneath that had to be someone that cared. Everyday you watched as he groaned and grumbled at everyone. You tried your best to make sure he was always taken care of because he was important more to you than anyone. Maybe it was a petty crush or perhaps it came from a place of understanding.

Everyone treated him as an outsider. Yet you would offer him food. He at first reacted like he didn’t care just walking away every time you tried. Slowly things changed. He would answer by shaking his head no sometimes he would take one piece before walking off as he started to warm up to you.

On a rather gloomy day rain fell hard outside, everyone already seemed to be in a terrible mood. But than a monster broke into the first floor. It tore through walls and damn near killed you all, luckily Hyun-Soo was quick on his feet to light it on fire before it could reach where everyone slept.

“ This is ridiculous we aren’t safe! That thing got down here!” Woo-Hyun shouted out. Making practically everyone jump beside Sang-wook who stood next to you.

“ Ya, I mean what if we were sleeping a-and it snuck down here and killed us all!” Gook-hee added pulling her dog closer to her. They had a point, but the way that they bitched about it didn’t help any.

“ Let’s all just take a breath-“ You started trying to regain some form of peace you’d all just lost.

“ Don’t tell me to breathe!” Woo-Hyun said walking up to you. Sang-Wook stepped forward as if he were protecting you. But Do-Hyun spoke before a fight could break lose,

“ The problem has been fixed we’ll have everyone check over certain spots so we can-“ Woo-Hyun cut him off grabbing his collar practically almost ripping Do-hyun’s white t-shirt in the process.

“ Your trying to kill us first you hold food from us and now this you-“

Sang-wook lightly pushing Woo-hyun back. His face turned to pure shock.

“ You dare put your hands on me! You thug!” He yelled pointing at him. “ Why is he even still here he’s a danger to us all! He killed a person!”

Sang-Wook face fell for second before harding back up. He stepped back as Woo-Hyun continued.

“ He’s a murder a psychopath-“

“ Stop it!” You shouted making everyone go silent.

Sang-wook shoved his hands in his pockets while walking away from the scene.

“ Walk away killer!” Woo-Hyun yelled point at him.

“ Would you stop!” You shouted smacking his hand down Woo-Hyun face turned in shock.

“ Did you ever stop to think that maybe he did it for our own good? Maybe that man was out to kill us or take our only things we have left.”

Woo-Hyun looked at you with a slightly deflated expression. “ Whatever nobody cares what you have to say! You don’t even speak half the time..” He muttered before walking away his wife trailing behind.

Everyone else followed their lead going off on their own. You decide to go after Sang-wook you weren’t sure what you’d find. But you saw the look in his eyes almost like someone had poked his heart.

As you turned the corner you heard the sound of breaking concrete and grunts. You saw Sang-wook standing over concrete blocks slamming them with a sledge hammer. Little piece scattering across the floor.

“ Sang-wook?” You said softly.

“ Go.” He muttered as he dropped the hammer on the ground his back towards you.

You start taking slow steps towards him asking, “ Are you okay ?” He didn’t reply instead he stayed silent you noticed his shoulders starting to shake by the time you reached his side you saw tears streaming down his face. It made your heart hurt to see him like this. You felt bad like you were seeing something you weren’t meant too but you weren’t going anywhere you wanted him to know that.

“ It’s okay.” He practically jumped on top of you wrapping his arms around your waist pulling you close gripping your shirt as he sobbed into your neck. His grip was tight like you would disappear if he let go. You wrapped your arms around his smoothing his hair as you whispering.

“ You can cry, it’s okay.” That he did. You practically watched as his walls came down you let him crying till the sun was setting by than you both found yourself sitting on the dirt near the window in a comfortable silence.

“ Thank you..” He muttered. You could help but giggle at his embarrassed tone, He gives you shocked look.

“ It’s okay.” You grinned. “I’m not judging you.”

Sang-wook’s eyes widen a bit at your statement like nobody had ever showed this type of care for him. Maybe you were the first in a while.

“ You don’t have to be strong in front of me.” You reassured him. You just wanted him to be okay to know that even if the whole world judged him you wouldn’t.

“ I don’t know what to say..” His eyes trailing down to the dirt.

“ Then don’t say anything, Just promise me you’ll let me be there for you.”

He nodded his head in acceptance of you and an acceptance of letting someone special in. You made him feel like there was more to this world than constantly having to watch your own back now he could watch what was right in-front of him.

———————————————————————

A/N: Hope you enjoy this. I wasn’t sure what kinda of ending I was gonna do. I was thinking about having Sang-wook tell the reader he didn’t kill them for a dumb reason. Or this ending where Sang-wook just tries to leave it in the past and move on with the reader which is this end. Anyways That’s all Much appreciation ❤️💚!!

#Sangwook #Sangwook x reader #Sangwook pyeon x reader #sweet home fluff #sweet home angst #kdrama x reader #kdrama #sweet home fanfic #sweet home x reader #Sangwook Pyeon fluff #Sangwook Pyeon fanfic #Fanfic #oneshot #Kdramaoneshots #gender neutral reader #Sweet home x gn reader

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dbnightingale24 · 5 months

Text

The Dog House Isn’t The Best, But It Can Still Be Our Home

Final installment to 'Pavlov's Dog'

Part 3

I told you guys I'd post it at some point 🥴 I'm honestly so sorry this took so long to post, but last year got really dark for me and everything just kind of took a backseat. Thank you so much for your patience, and thank you to all of you who checked up on me. It means more than I'll ever be able to express. Thank you @fuckingbye for being an amazing friend, and for also making this amazing moodboard. You are a saint and I love to the ends of the earth. Without further ado, here's the final chapter!

Word Count: 71,942 (yes, you read that correctly)

Warnings: SMUT (MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY), Public Sex, Semi Public Sex, Drinking, Smoking, Swearing, Daddy Kink, Angst, Heartbreak, Mild Violence, FLUFF, Lying, Betrayal...I think that's it?

Song(s) That Inspired This Chapter: Will You Take Me Back In The Morning If I Promise To Never Act This Way Again?

I do not give consent/permission for my works/stories to be posted elsewhere. I do not condone this type of behavior, this is for entertainment purposes only.

“You can’t keep going on like this, babe,” Daisy sighs sympathetically as she takes a seat next to the bathtub.

“It doesn’t matter,” you shrug as you take a drag of your cigarette, “none of it fucking matters.”

“Babe, it’s been two weeks. You do the same thing every day. You get up, eat the smallest bit of food, you sit out on your back deck and smoke until you decide to start drinking, then you draw yourself a bath and drink and smoke in it until you decide it’s too cold, or I come and get you. You can’t keep doing this.”

“I don’t even have a reason to be mad at him, do I?” you scoff incredulously before taking a drag from your cigarette, “it’s not like he lied. He didn’t even know, so I have no reason to be this upset, do I?”

“He was a complete and total asshole,” she states firmly, “and you have every reason to be upset with his actions. Yeah, it was a shit show, but he definitely could’ve handled it better.”

“The shit he said right in front of that child, even if it isn’t his, were so fucking cruel! No child deserves to be spoken to like that, and he of all people should know that!”

“Babe-”

“After everything we talked about on that trip...it’s like it didn’t even matter to him. He didn’t even care.”

“I’m sure he was just shocked-”

“That’s not an excuse, Dais.”

“I never said it was, but c’mon: it’s Ransom. You really think he was thinking clearly? Linda and Marta were there and I’m more than sure he was afraid of losing you, then Marta drops a fucking bomb on him, and it sounds like she did it on purpose, if I’m honest. Just to fuck him over.”

“Daisy, I just-”

“BABY, PLEASE ANSWER THE DOOR AND TALK TO ME!” Ransom calls desperately as he bangs on your front door.

Like clockwork.

“Why can’t he understand that I need time? I don’t owe him shit,” you start to sniffle as your tears fall, and you grab the bottle of tequila that lives by the bathtub now, and take a long drink from it.

“I’ll get rid of him, just please...please get up and do something,” Daisy begs desperately.

“Ya know, you’re wrong,” you say as she reaches the doorway, finally looking at her, “I put on makeup today,” you smile weakly.

She lets out a humorless laugh before disappearing and you hear her footsteps quickly making their way downstairs.

Since everything that took place on his doorstep, you haven’t spoken to or seen him. You don’t know what to say or how to handle the situation. He’s been calling and texting non-stop since it all happened, and every two days he comes by to visit, and Daisy tells him to leave you alone every time.

But you can’t keep avoiding him.

No, you don’t know what the right thing to do is, but you know that avoiding him is the wrong thing, and you can’t keep letting Daisy handle these issues for you. You have to at least speak to him, but say what? Do what? It’s not like you have any real right to be mad at him. It’s not like he cheated on Marta with you, he didn’t cheat on you with her, he clearly didn’t know he had a child so he didn’t keep it from you, and he did defend you to Linda. However, that doesn’t change the things he said to that child.

Possibly his child.

“He’s not my son and this isn’t fucking funny!”

“We can take a test if you want, but he is your son!”

“Well, I don’t want him! You wait...however many years to tell me about him, and you sure as shit don’t need any money, so why now?!”

“He deserves to know who his Father is, Ransom! He’s a Drysdale and-”

“Watch it,” Ransom warns with a foreboding tone.”

God, how could he be so cruel to a child, after all of the talks you two have had? He’s always cruel though, isn’t he? To you, to Marta, his own son (the resemblance is too strong for that boy to not to be his child), and fuck it, even Jack. He can’t ever seem to control his temper and, if he can’t do that, what chance do you two have together?

Still, he owns your heart and you don’t know how to get it back at this point. You don’t know and you don’t wanna know.

“Ransom, you have to stop coming around!” you hear Daisy yell, and you sigh before taking another drink from the bottle.

“You can’t stop me from me seeing her, Daisy! She’s my girlfriend!”

“Bullshit! You two never made it official-”

“Daisy, stay out of it! Let me see her!”

“No! She’s not ready to see you and you can’t force-”

“I’m not forcing anything-”

“What do you think this is?! Showing up because she won’t answer your calls or texts, and demanding to see her?! Leave her alone!”

“You can’t stop me-”

“Let him in!” you call, lighting a cigarette as you use your tip toes to turn the water back on, and heat up your water just a bit.

Who the hell knows how this is gonna go?

You hear the both of them speedily stomping up the steps, but Daisy get there first and says, “are you sure? You don’t have to-”

“I can’t keep letting you fight my battles,” you smile weakly at her as you turn the water off.

“Babe-”

“I have to deal with this at some point. I can do this,” you all but mumble not believing yourself as you take a drag of your cigarette.

“I’ll be in the room over,” she sighs softly before turning, “fuck you Drysdale!”

“Fuck you!”

You hear her slap him and shake your head. Nothing can ever be simple, can it?

“Sweet Thing, please-” he starts as soon as he makes his way into your bathroom.

“Ransom...don’t,” you quickly interrupt. “This isn’t just some small disagreement.”

“I didn’t even know I had a child!”

“I could’ve dealt with that, Ransom! It would’ve taken some time, but I honestly could’ve dealt with that! It’s the way you spoke about him in front of him!”

“I don’t want him!”

“You didn’t have to say it in front of him! Jesus, it’s not his fault that you’re a selfish bastard! He didn’t ask to be born, and Marta-”

“She did this out of spite! Not because she wants me to be apart the child’s-”

“Be that as it may, he didn’t do anything! Basically telling her that she has no right calling him a Drysdale, when he is in fact a Drysdale! Ransom, I know you’re rough around the edges, but for fucks sake! All the talks we’ve had about our own fucked up childhoods and you do this?! You just...I don't fucking get it with you, Ransom!”

“What is there to get?! We fucking talked about this, Y/N! I’m not-”

“That’s no excuse for this! You took it too far and I...Ransom, I can’t-”

“Don’t you fucking say it,” he warns as his eyes start welling up with tears. “Don’t you fucking say that to me!”

“Ransom...I love you, but I can’t be the only good thing in your life. The only person you like,” you sob, sitting up and ashing your cigarette in the ash tray resting on the little table near by.

“WHY NOT?!”

“It’s too much fucking pressure! It’s too much pressure, and I can’t keep watching you be terrible to people because you had a rough childhood! You having a rough go of it doesn’t mean you get to walk all over people for the rest of your life!”

“Listen, give it a few days and you’ll see-”

“No, Ransom. This is done. I can’t do this with you anymore. You have to grow up at some point, and I refuse to mother you.”

“Y/N...you’ll see...you don’t mean it. You always say you’re done and you come back-”

“I can’t anymore. All of this just hurts too much. You keep finding new ways to hurt me, even when you don’t mean to, and I just...you’re cruel, Ransom. You’re cruel, you’re a bully, and you will hurt anyone by doing anything. I know there’s good in you, because you’ve let me see it time and time again, but you refuse to let others in, even in the slightest and I just...please don’t call me anymore,” you sob pathetically. “Don’t call, don’t text, don’t come by...we’re done.”

“You don’t mean this-”

“Don’t make it harder than it has to be, please. Just let me go,” you beg softly as you wipe your eyes.

“You’ll see. In a week or so, you’ll see and I’ll be waiting. I’ll wait and everything will be as it should, again,” he smiles weakly, wiping his own eyes.

“Ransom-”

“I’ll call you in a few weeks, okay, Sweet Thing,” he promises, making his way over to the bathtub. “I love you and I’ll talk to you.”

He cups your face and kisses you passionately and you’re so tempted to pull him into the tub with you, but you know you’ve got to stop. You left one toxic relationship just to jump into a different type of toxic relationship.

“Ransom,” you breathe once you two break apart, “please-”

“I’ll talk to you in a few weeks,” he promises with a sniffle before standing up and walking out.

“Ransom-”

“I’ll see you in a few weeks,” he repeats, his voice cracking as he continues on his way out.

Daisy is back inside and by your side instantly, climbing into the tub and holding you close as you cry uncontrollably, as you try to come to terms with the choice you’ve just made. Yeah, he’s right in saying that you always come back, but that’s not the case this time.

You need to stay away from him for good.

The fact that he has it in his head that all of this will be sorted out in a few weeks, lets you know that this is only the calm before the storm. As both you and Daisy lean back into the tub, and she holds you close while you cry into her shoulder, there’s only one question going through your head:

How the hell are you supposed to quit the love of your life?

4 Years Later...

You can read the rest of the story here

taglist: @whiskeytangofoxtrot555, @companionjones, @autumnrose40, @fuckingbye, @pono-pura-vida, @nomadstucky, @mazda098, @chemtrails-club, @bree-lyrie, @mjey12, @charlottiedawson, @fenixstar , @thickania

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t-tomuras · 8 months

Text

∞ ─── • 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐁𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐬

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x F!reader

Wordcount: 3.6k

Warnings: Psuedo angst, 'complicated' feelings, undefined relationship with Satoru, he carries reader (if he can rip off a curses head and arm with ease he can carry you), creampie, overstimulation, reader referred to as 'princess' once

Notes: for my most beloved @katsukikitten and her budding selfship

“I don’t get it, Fushiguro, this mission is below my skill level, let alone yours. Why were you told to come along in the first place?” An inquiry that is far from unfounded.

You were still in training, sure, but Nanami had already informed you he’d placed you under consideration for promotion to special grade sorcerer. Megumi himself was only a second grade, also recently recommended for a higher ranking placement, just as well deserved, so not a thing about this day was adding up.

“I just do what the mission details,” he sounds almost bored and you don’t blame him. Megumi normally fights alongside his shikigami but the curses don’t stand a chance against Devine Dog: Totality. Hands shoved deep into his pockets after summoning Nui to pursue any vermin that try and slink away.

And you know that you shouldn’t, know that age doesn’t always equate skill nor experience but he was only freshly graduated from Jujutsu High. On top of the fact that he’s from a prestigious clan, but, Megumi was a few years younger than you and at this moment in time he feels like he’s your babysitter and not a partner.

Finally voicing your frustrations, “it just doesn’t make sense Megumi.” Knuckles curled against your cocked hip after dispatching a meager curse with ease, confusion and slight irritation bleeding onto your features. “I could’ve done this by myself and the higher ups know that! Sorcerers are a hot commodity right now and the two of us on a mission like this? It’s wasteful and insulting. Fuck, Nanami of all people even recommended me for my promotion!”

Megumi’s growing annoyed with you now, tired of your whining at this point. A young man that’s normally calm but he’s tired of tiptoeing around such an obvious subject that you’re too oblivious to grasp. Exorcizing the last curse before rounding on you with flared nostrils, “why don’t you ask Gojo? He’s the one that didn’t agree with the recommendation and told me to come here too.”

You’re rendered silent, surprised by the flare but not at all by the reasoning Megumi gives you. Of course this was Satoru’s doing, the meddlesome man; but this had to be the final straw. The largest insult by far in your dealings with the obnoxious sorcerer labeled the strongest and a man you find yourself entangled with in more ways than one.

But he always trusts everyone and their abilities. Well, everyone except for you apparently and that glaring fact grates your nerves. Burrowing deep down until you feel it in your bones. Feeling struck by how flippant Gojos' ward is when relaying that horribly kept secret to you.

You can only openly gape at Fushiguro, unable to formulate any reply for a long moment while an angry heat burns your cheeks. Furious hiss clawing up your throat when you finally ask, “what did you say?”

Not that you need a response at all, the reply doesn’t matter, wouldn’t change a single thing and you think even Megumi understands that. Saving you and himself the trouble of dignifying you with response. Settling to ignore you entirely as you fume to yourself, praising his shikigami for a job well done with a scratch below their muzzle before releasing it and Nue both.

It’s fortunate Megumi isn’t one for small talk, you’re too furious the entire ride home to make any attempt anyway. Arms crossed over your chest wearing an indignant pout that only deepens with each vibrate of your phone. You’re tired of checking it, knowing instinctively it’s him but right now even the thought of him works your last nerve. Going through a plethora of scenarios on how your argument with him will likely go the moment he appears to harass you further.

He always does whenever you refuse to respond to the barrage of text messages he sends you now. One could think they were an admission of guilt but you know when it comes to Satoru it stems from his desire to simply be obnoxious to you.

Satoru 👎🏽: How’d the mission go? Didn’t let Fushiguro have all the fun did ya hahaha Satoru 👎🏽: It wasn’t a big job, you should be done already. Satoru 👎🏽: Did Megumi treat you to dinner like normal yet? I’ll cook. Satoru 👎🏽: Are you hangry princess? Tell Ijichi to bring you to my house. Satoru 👎🏽: You realize your read receipts are on, right? I know you’re reading these.

He’s goading you, you know that. Hoping to agitate you enough into responding. Obviously you know your read receipts are on, obviously you want him to know you’re ignoring him. You can’t stand how infuriating he can be by merely playing dense when he was the furthest thing from it.

But you don’t buy in, won’t reward him with the satisfaction of letting him see those bouncing bubbles in the conversation. Won’t dignify him with an argument right now, waiting until you’d calmed enough to be level headed or else he would win. Flipping the tab on the side of your phone to silence its ringtone and turning your entire body towards the car door in the backseat, leaning your forehead against the cool window. Lids slipping shut as you exhale slowly in the hopes of relaxing enough to fall asleep for the ride home.

Silence later disturbed by the ringing of Megumi’s phone, registering the jarring sound as it pulls you from a half slumber. Brows furrowing whenever the young man lets the jingle play far longer than he typically cares for. Something he only does when it’s his carefree benefactor calling

Mumbling out a quick, don’t answer voice groggy and too quiet but still laced with annoyance.

He ignores you though, answering his phone despite your wishes and Gojo can hear your whine when his precious pupil answers the phone. You can only hear one side of the conversation, all of his responses untelling of what the man on the other end says but you’re sure all of its pompous and annoying.

“Tell him yourself,” is the final thing Megumi grumbles before he hangs up. Eyeing the side of Fushiguros face as if he would willingly tell you the details of the conversation by look alone but you figure he wouldn’t divulge anything even if you asked. You don’t bother putting up a fight with him, he deals with too many boisterous people to be bothered by outbursts and arguments anymore; opting to sinking lower into your seat beside him with a pathetic ‘hmph’. Gritting your teeth when you catch Ijichi's sympathetic look in the rearview mirror.

His fear of Gojo outweighed his respect and friendly candor with you, you already knew that. Watching the man hold out his phone screen resting on a conversation but you don’t need to look closer to know who it’s with.

“Whatever, just make it fast,” waving your hand dismissively when he sighs out a half assed apology. It’s genuine, you know, you just wish he would have more of a spine when it came to Satoru; you don’t care that he’s the strongest in the slightest.

Your scowl only deepens when you’re driven all the way up to the front entrance of the Gojo estate, warm lighting of the place feeling less than inviting in your dismal state. Stepping from the vehicle and slamming it shut hard enough it shakes the cabin. Megumi rolling your window down as he scoots over to your side of the car after you tap a pointed claw onto the glass. Deadpan features as you bend at the waist with a cheshire cat smile, forearm resting against the car frame as you tease, “don’t stay up too late gumibear. I have a feeling you’ll have an early assignment come tomorrow morning.”

It’s only a tease though Megumi is more than aware you could shirk your next assignment off onto him by batting your lashes at his benefactor. Knowing full well that even if he was over the age of eighteen now Gojo had plenty of pull when it came to the young Fushiguro.

But you don’t like to steal his time with his girlfriend he believes is a well kept secret. Waggling your fingers cheekily with a little wink too reminiscent of the man you say you can’t stand as you step away so Ijichi can pull from the curb.

Watching them leave until the taillights disappear around the tall walls that run along the perimeter of the estate. Lingering outside as long as you can before heaving a bereft sigh, creating a warm vapor that contrasts the frigid temperatures. Looking up to gather your thoughts in preparation for whatever argument is to come, because surely there will be one the moment you see him.

Rubbing at your arms and closing your eyes when you hear the entrance to his home slide open behind you. Teeth grit as you turn to look at him, propped leisurely against the jamb in his loungewear yukata with his typical carefree smile gracing infuriatingly handsome features.

Feeling his heavy gaze on you despite his heavily tinted shades as you shoulder passed him. Claws digging into your skin to remain calm when you hear him chuckle with mirth at the action. Closing the door with a shake of his head, “hello to you too.”

“What is actually your problem?” You hiss as you kick off your uniform boots, venturing deeper into the foyer to maintain some distance from Satoru. Rounding on him when you stand at the mouth of his staircase, “you tried to override my promotion?”

A beat of silence passes as if he were processing what you could possibly be on about, as if Satoru were ever oblivious about anything within his realm. A quiet stretching between you long enough you could count the seconds that blaringly tick by from his archaic wall clock. Temper ready to flare the moment his clueless expression finally bleeds into that insufferable smirk he insists that you love, “I knew Megumi wouldn’t keep the secret.”

“No fucking shit Satoru, answer my question. Why did you try to override Nanami's recommendation!?”

The smirk only grows wider, a manicured brow quirking playfully as he tilts his head to the side something akin to a curious cat. Taking long strides to close the distance with ease even as you step backwards, hissing in mounting annoyance, “answer me you overgrown toddler.”

Slapping away the arms that reach out for you, backing higher onto the next step before long fingers wrap around your forearm. Pulling you to him with a gentle force, voice an irritatingly inappropriate coo, “you’re so cute when you’re mad, all wound up and ready to explode. I can help you with that,” his voice almost purrs, one hand at your lower back pressing your bodies together and it makes you squirm.

You push at his chest while you writhe for freedom, only able to create enough distance to see his face. Refusing to melt for his sultry tone, “I’m serious Satoru.”

“So am I,” voice laden with want, darkened with desire as he presses his nose into your throat. Soft lips brushing against your thrumming pulse, “so serious I’ll let us skip dinner in favor of dessert.”

Though he’s always had an insatiable sweet tooth and you’ve never been an exception. Sighing as you crane your neck to give him better access, whether you don’t feel or choose to ignore his smirk is of no consequence.

“I can’t stand you. I hate you,” but there’s no malice in the statement, soft whines that bleed into breathy sighs as you melt in his hold and it only makes a chuckle rumble in his chest before long fingers ghost over the swell of your backside in his venture lower. Enjoying the way you drape your body over his, resting your weight against him that he’ll support with ease as he ascends the steps.

“You always say that” coy, unserious even as he grips at the underside of your thighs, prompting you to wrap them around his waist. Successfully disarming you for the moment, puddy in his hold as he climbs the stairs. Meager fight dying as his fingertips graze the insides of your thighs, your hand dragging along the bannister as he reaches the top.

Maneuvering the halls of his home with practiced ease, effortlessly still with you in his arms when he palms the back of your neck. Pulling you from his throat so his lips can finally find yours, nose nudging your own as he moves to quickly deepen it.

Squeezing the fat of your ass to earn a pleased gasp and an opening. Tongue eagerly invading your mouth just as easily as he’d invaded the rest of your life. Teasing swipes that breed soft sighs and tentative reciprocation as he presses his fingers into the small of your back. Each step he takes causing your pelvis to give moderate friction to his crotch, not that he wasn’t already sporting a half hard erection anyway.

Chuckling as he toes open his shoji door, crossing the threshold and clearing the space between the entryway and his bed quickly. Falling onto the mattress with a breathless chuckle when you crawl backwards up to the headboard. More than familiar with the set as you push away his mound of pillows before reaching for him again. Cupping the sides of his face in a quiet desperation for contact once more.

“You’re not off the hook,” uttered between soft kisses that grow in fervor, lipstick already smearing onto Satoru’s plush lips as his hums in response. Lithe digits already fiddling with three fasteners to your modified uniform. Unclasping them with ease and it cues the instinctual lift of your hips when his fingers hook into the waistband of both your pants and underwear.

“You always say that too,” husked as he undoes the lazily knotted sash of his yukata, letting it fall loose and expose his chiseled torso. Your eyes rake downward, appreciating a body you’ve indulged in a multitude of times as you sit up on your forearms. Stopped just short of the hard cuts of where his lower abs and obliques meet by the tip of Satoru’s finger at your chin. Pressing forward for another kiss as his forefinger curls to hook where it rested as his thumb presses against your chin. Holding you carefully as he gets comfortable.

Smiling into the contact as you let your hands cup his cheeks, fingers pushing at the frames of his glasses before tossing them haphazardly to the side. Clattering noisily to the floor as your bodies shift, thighs coming to frame Satoru’s narrow hips before hooking your ankles at the base of his spine. Applying pressure with your heels until you can finally feel his length glide against your weeping slit. Gliding in the slickness as he adjusts with a groan, hand sliding to cup at the curve of your skull to deepen the kiss.

Groaning softly in appreciation as your hips roll up into his, tongue sliding over his in a momentary shift of control. Rolling his own hips into yours to pull sweet mewls from you each time his cockhead bumps your throbbing clit, relishing in the gasps it elicits.

Chuckling when your hands dip beneath the fabric of his clothing to push it from him completely, Satoru shrugging it off and tossing it away to join his glasses on the floor as he works to have you in an equal state of undress. Kiss only broken as he tugs your shirt over your head, chasing your lips the moment the offending fabric is bunched and discarded without care.

A hunger festering with each rut into you until finally his teasing strokes catch at your entrance. Canting your hips reflexively for him to stretch you on him and it earns a playful coo, “want me that badly?”

“Shut up,” whined even as your nails rake over the close buzz of his undercut and Satoru reaches between your bodies to grasp his shaft. Tilting his hips and leaning his face away from you just so he’s able to watch your lips part around a silent moan as he slips inside of you. Committing yet another moment of you taking each inch of him so well until he's buried to the hilt and your head lolls back into the few pillows you’d left on his mattress to memory.

He’d tease you more, tell you how rude you are when he’s taking care of you but as velvet walls clench around him it steals his breath. Makes him feel like he’s finally home despite never leaving the sanctity of his estate today. Grinding down into you to give you that delicious friction to your clit that has your hips bucking out of sync with his own. Twitching into him each time as your sopping cunt slicks neatly trimmed hairs to his pelvis.

Making your arch so beautifully off the bed, Satoru kissing along your jawline as he whispers sweet praises to you that makes you almost forget why you were angry in the first place. Handling you expertly just as he always does, putting your pleasure first as Satoru leans away to watch your tongue flick over kiss swollen lips as that telltale coil winds tightly in your lower belly.

Setting a pace that has you seeing stars even the expanse of his Infinite Void fails to compare to. Tipping you over the edge and delivering you into sweet euphoria, arching high and Satoru sighs at the sound of your pitchy keen. Music to his ears when it’s broken by shuddering gasps, dragging himself closer until Satoru was just short of tumbling over the edge but who was he if he didn’t intentionally overwhelm your senses.

Teasing you and only temporarily denying himself as he moves his hand between your bodies. Pace hastening causing the slick clicking of your cunt to crescendo into lewd squelching with each rut as the pad of his thumb finds your puffy clit. Already oversensitive from your climax only worsened and doing nothing to ease your descent back to earth. Keeping you on cloud nine, leaving you shuddering and gripping tightly at Satoru’s wrist as he expertly rolls the pert bud beneath his skilled digit.

“Sa-Sa— ah-toru please,” reprieve or rapture you’re unsure of what you’re even pleading for but Gojo does. He always does as he kisses sweetly at the juncture of where your jaw and throat meet. Whispering strained, ‘I know’s and ‘I’ve got you’s.

Teetering on the precipice of deliverance as if he weren’t already the Honored One and only you could assign him that title in the first place when he tangled with you like this.

“You’ll forgive me, won’t you?” Whispered as featherlight as the palms that paw at you as your pliant body works him toward his demise Satoru has withheld from you both thus far. Ghosting over your ribs as his thumbs brush lovingly against the underside of your breasts as he continues to rhythmically drive into you.

You don’t want to, you don’t, not this time. You don’t want to give into him once again, so easily after being so infuriated with him. What he’d done such a hefty insult that’s still gone unanswered. Jaw set tightly as your nostrils flare, exhaling in exasperation because you can’t take it anymore. Tears of frustration or from overstimulation you aren’t sure but the reasoning doesn’t matter as you finally hiss, “yes, I forgive you, yes. Please cum. Please, Satoru.”

And almost as soon as you concede, so does he, lips parting around a relieved groan as he achieves release. Long and low as it rumbles in his chest and reverberates against your own rib cage, painting velvet walls in pearly ropes. Rolls of his hips slowing to a gentle rock as he works you both down. Soft brushes of his lips to your temple, to the corners of your eyes where the tears still pool at your lashline and down the tear tracks before the venture leads to your lips.

Taking them with care, affectionate yet bittersweet as he cradles you at your natural waist and base of your skull. Withdrawing his spent cock from you slowly, almost regretfully as you float back down to earth.

You almost forget why you were so furious in the first place, could almost let it slide with his tender care in how he pulls you closer into his chest. Almost, until you feel him chuckle softly as he twirls the end of your hair as you tuck into his throat, “so, I’m off the hook after all right?”

You sigh at that, sigh at how it’s never so serious with him. That you’re never that serious to him despite the home he’s made for you in his life. Inducting you in all the little ways like your toothbrush next to Satoru’s on a his and hers sink. Your own side of the closet, your own bedside table with all of your amenities and personal care items as well as your own side of a bed that had only been occupied by Gojo alone for so long.

But still, somehow, you feel left at arms length. That even as you feel his skin you feel a more tangible barrier than the Infinity he allows you through.

You turn over in his arms, allow him to press a kiss to the shell of your ear as he conforms to the curve of your body.

“Sure, Satoru. You’re off the hook,” just like every other time before that. Arguments and fights large and small.

He always won anyway.

#vixen writes #satoru x reader #gojou satoru x you #gojo smut #gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #jjk smut #satoru smut

284 notes · View notes

alwaysonthemend · 7 months

Text

Author's Note: I got one request for Jake saying I love you for the first time and another one just asking for some Jake fluff in general. Figured I could easily make these into one fic. No smut (shocker I know) but figured it's okay since my next fic is FILTHY. I hope you all enjoy!

Word Count: 2763

Warnings: Literally none. Jake is a sweetheart. There is some awful flirting though. (I'm a classics major I only know how to flirt with history nerds)

Song to Listen to While Reading:

.•° ✿ °•.❁.•° ✿ °•.

“Hey, Jake?” You call out, grabbing your keys from their hook on the wall as you slip your shoes on.

“Yeah?” Jake’s face peaks out from around the corner to look at you, chestnut locks falling in messy waves on either side of his face.

“Since you’re so insistent on following me around today,” you say with a smile, turning to grab your purse from the kitchen table, “would you be so kind as to come with me on an errand?”

“Sure!” He nods enthusiastically, stepping fully into the room with a wide smile on his face. “I love car rides.”

You just shake your head fondly at him as he practically skips across the kitchen to follow you out the door.

Jake had arrived at your door earlier this morning, a coffee cup in hand and a glimmer in his eye as he’d announced his plan to spend the day with you.

“Well, I don’t really have anything fun planned to do today…” You’d hedged, trying to ignore the butterflies that erupted in your stomach at the knowledge that he wanted to spend time with you.

“So?” He had shoved past you and walked into your house as if it were his own place and plopped himself down on your sofa. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever. We can just have a chill day.”

He’d kept true to his word, content to just spend time in your presence as you went about your boring Saturday. He’d gone with you to walk your dog and then had sat next to you as you folded laundry – all the while insisting that he didn’t mind what you two were doing so long as he was with you. It had all felt so domestic and you’re pretty sure that you had been blushing non-stop since he stepped through the door. But, you try to remind yourself that this is what best friends do. They hang out with each other. They do laundry together. They dance in the kitchen while they cook lunch. All totally normal best friend things to do.

You keep reminding yourself that as Jake climbs into the passenger seat next to you and immediately hooks his phone up to the AUX because he knows you won’t ever tell him no. The afternoon light is spilling through the windows and painting his face in a warm glow and making his chocolate eyes reflect back a honeyed brown as he turns his head to look at you.

“Where are we going?”

The sound of Chris Stapleton wafts its way through your car’s speakers as you pull out of your driveway.

“I want to go buy some flowers. There’s a new shop down the road and I wanted to go check it out.”

He nods once, shuffling a little in his seat and as your eyes track the movement, you realize suddenly that he hasn’t buckled himself in.

“Jacob Thomas, fasten your seat belt right now.” You scold, turning your eyes back to the road.

“Ugh. Sorry, mom.” He grumbles but relents. “Why is my best friend so mean to me?” He elements, sarcasm evident in his tone.

The corners of your lips turn upwards despite yourself.

“Don’t make me turn this car around.”

He smiles – the one that makes his eyes crinkle around the edges and you tighten your grip on the steering wheel. Just friends, you remind yourself.

“Whatever.” He says finally, fiddling a little bit with his white bracelet that’s definitely seen better days, and you don’t hesitate to tell him so.

“It’s got character.” He tells you, fondly running his fingers over the knotted rope. “I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You look both ways before turning into the parking lot of the shop – Oak St Garden Shoppe painted lovingly on the side of the little building. You park the car and unfasten your seatbelt.

Jake only shrugs before unbuckling and stepping out of the car. You do the same and he catches your eye over the roof of the car.

“Who are you getting flowers for, anyways?”

“Myself. The kitchen needs some brightening up.”

Jake follows you dutifully as you walk into the shop. He walks close enough that your shoulders brush and you can’t help the warmth that spreads through you at the feeling. As you both walk up to the front, your eye is captured by some potted sunflowers lining the walls of the patio.

“Do you remember how we met?” Jake asks you, his mind clearly going where yours had at the sight of the flowers.

“'Course I do.”

.•° ✿ °•.❁.•° ✿ °•.

“Y/n, baby?” You hear your mother’s voice call from downstairs, causing you to look up from your sketchbook in slight annoyance at being interrupted.

“Yeah?” You call back, allowing your annoyance to bleed into your tone.

“Can you come down here please!”

You huff a breath, closing your sketchbook and making your way downstairs as slowly as possible – just to spite her a little bit for bothering you.

“What?” You snap, rounding the corner into the kitchen with heavy footfalls, only to stop dead in your tracks to see a woman you’ve never seen before sitting at your kitchen table. Her eyes, and the eyes of the two young boys who stand next to her, cut quickly to you. Your cheeks redden slightly.

“Um. Hi.” You say, wringing your hands together a little.

“These are our new neighbors.” Your mother says, coming up behind you and resting her hand on your shoulder. “I wanted you to come say hi.”

“Oh. Hi.” You give them a little wave, unsure of what else to do.

“Hello.” The woman says, her kind eyes regarding you as she speaks, “I’m Karen. And these are my boys Josh and Jake.” She turns to look at them, nudging each of them subtly to speak.

“Hi.”

“Hello.”

They both speak at the same time and your eyes widen as you really look at them for the first time. They look exactly alike. Like, completely alike.

Karen laughs lightly as she takes in your shocked expression as she rises from her seat at the table.

“They're twins if you couldn’t tell.”

Your mom laughs behind you and squeezes your shoulder lightly before stepping away.

“Josh and Jake will be in the same grade as you once school starts.” Your mom says, walking over to the stove to stir whatever it is that she’s cooking. “It’ll be nice to know some people going in. Making friends in middle school can be a little scary sometimes.”

“Oh cool.” You don’t really know what else to say to them, and Josh and Jake (you’re still not sure which is which) both look to be in the same boat.

“Well,” Karen says, brushing her palms across her skirt as she looks down at her sons. “I suppose we should get going now. Your dad will be coming home soon. Jake?”

One of the boys – the one on the left, looks up at her.

“Want to give Y/n here her gift?”

Jake nods, stepping towards you tentatively and you realize now that he’s been holding something behind his back. He brings his arm forward and you see that he’s holding a single sunflower in his hand. He holds it out to you, eyes trained on the floor.

“Th-thank you.” You tell him, taking the flower from his grasp.

“You’re welcome.” He says, a tiny grin peeking out through his shyness.

You watched the three of them go before looking down at the flower in your hand.

You had kept it for a very long time.

.•° ✿ °•.❁.•° ✿ °•.

“You’re lucky.” Jake says, brushing past you to go look at some ferns hanging on some hooks on the awning.

“And why’s that?”

“Imagine if me and Josh hadn’t agreed to be friends with you. Middle school would’ve sucked for you.”

“Oh, really?” You ask him, placing your hands on your hips. “The way I remember it, I was the one who decided to become friends with you two.”

“Mmm. Sure.”

You roll your eyes.

“I could have made plenty of other friends if it weren’t for you two ruining all my cool points.” You tell him, though you both know that you’re not serious. The three of you had been inseparable – completely content with only each other. You hadn’t needed (or wanted) anyone else.

Jake tosses his head back and laughs loudly, his eyes closing against the afternoon sun. Your heart feels like it might explode.

“Pretty sure it was just Josh ruining all your street cred.”

“And how do you figure that?”

He shrugs.

“He was a weird kid.”

“And you were emo. Your point?”

Jake turns to you, a hand placed dramatically over his heart as he drops his mouth open in mock offense.

“And what’s wrong with being emo?”

“Your music taste, for one.” You tell him, leading him away from the ferns to go look at some of the bouquets that line the opposite wall.

“You wound me.” He says, giving you an over-the-top pout.

“And your hair.”

“It was glorious. And hot.” He says with a cocky grin. “All the chicks loved it.”

“Uh huh.” you giggle at him, grabbing his wrist and tugging him over to come stand next to you again.

“Which one?” You ask him, gesturing towards the overwhelming amount of bouquets.

Jake crouches down, the tip of his pointer finger coming to rest on his chin as he looks at the flowers and you take the opportunity to look at him instead. His hair is messy – like he’s been running his fingers through it incessantly (which you know he probably has, despite how many times you tell him to leave it alone). He’s wearing a pair of old jeans and a distressed old band tee and he’s got a bandana twisted up and tied around his neck along with a few necklaces. The afternoon sun once again bathes him in warmth – making his brown hair reflect almost auburn beneath its rays. He looks so… soft as he crouches there. The way he’s actually thinking about which one to pick (when most guys wouldn’t even care) makes your heart flutter and butterflies to once again take up residence in your tummy. You long to reach out and feel his soft hair or his warm skin beneath your fingertips. Your chest aches as you stand there watching him, feeling as though this moment is the first one where you’ve known true happiness – just basking in his presence and feeling lucky that even after his band has found success, he still is content to come and spend his day with you. You wish that this moment could last forever. You want to bottle up his warmth and sweetness and keep it in your pocket for rainy days when he’s gone.

…All of which you remind yourself is totally normal to want around your best friend.

“This one.” He finally says, snapping you from your thoughts as he stands back up.

You cast your eyes downwards to look at the one he’s pointing at and your breath catches in your throat. It really is a beautiful bouquet. It’s mostly greenery – with white petunias, tulips, and daisies throughout. But at the very center are three sunflowers – their yellow petals contrasting beautifully with the green and white.

“It’s perfect.”

.•° ✿ °•.❁.•° ✿ °•.

Jake had insisted on paying and there’d been nothing you could do to change his mind – he’d claimed that it was a thank you for spending the day with him. Clearly, he didn’t realize just how much you wanted to be in his presence.

“This really is a beautiful bouquet.” You tell him as you place the flowers into a vase of water on your kitchen counter.

“What can I say? I’ve got a great eye.” He grins at you.

You glance back downwards and your eyes widen as you see a bumble bee crawling pitifully across one of the sunflowers.

“Oh no!” You cry, looking around frantically for something that might help the little thing.

“What?” Jake asks, straightening up from where he’d been leaning against the counter. “What’s wrong?”

“There’s a bumble bee in the flowers and he doesn’t look good.” You tell him, running to your fridge to grab a bottle of water.

Jake visibly relaxes.

“Oh. God.” He breathes out, leaning back against the counter again. “I thought something was really wrong.”

“Something is really wrong, Jake.” Your voice trembles a little as you unscrew the top from the water bottle and carefully pour a little water into it.

Jake, sensing your distress, strides over the flowers and looks at you a little guiltily.

“You’re right. Sorry.” He says, looking down at the poor bee. “What can I do?”

You walk carefully over to him with the cap of water.

“Can you pick him up and put him in the cap? He’s probably dehydrated."

Jake looks at you wide eyed.

“Won’t it sting?”

“It’s a carpenter bee, so probably not.” You tell him, concern still painting your features. Jake looks unconvinced so you sigh and hold the cap out for him to take. “Fine. Switch with me.”

Jake cups his palm around the cap and watches as you carefully lift the bee from the bouquet and place him on the rim of the cap. With no small amount of skill, the two of you manage to deposit the cap back into your palm without disturbing the bee as it drinks. Almost immediately, its little wings begin to perk up a bit and you smile widely down at it.

“Thank god. It’s precious.”

“Yeah.” Jake says quietly. “It is.”

You look up at him with a proud smile and you find him already looking at you fondly.

“You are not keeping it, though.” He scolds, pointing his finger at you.

“Ugh. I know. Here.” You nod your head towards the double glass doors that lead to your backyard . “Will you open that for me?”

Jake nods and unlocks it before opening it fully and holding it there so you can lift your palm up. The bee takes its cue and buzzes away, disappearing into the sky as you stand there watching it go.

“God I love you.”

Jake’s voice startles you and you turn your eyes away from where the bee had disappeared to look at him. He’s got a strange look on his face – one that you haven’t really seen before. His brown eyes regard you nervously, as if he's surprised himself by speaking.

“I love you too, Jake. You’re my best friend.” You tell him with a smile, patting his chest once before turning around to walk back inside to place the cap of water back on the counter.

Jake follows, allowing the back door to close loudly behind him.

“No, no. I mean… I’m in love with you, Y/n.”

“What?” You don’t mean to say the word so loudly and you can physically see Jake recoil as if he’s been struck. You’re stuck there for a moment, frozen in place as you both stare at each other.

Jake’s face falls and he drops his head, taking your silence as a rejection. It’s anything but that. You can hardly believe it. Years. You've spent years pining after him and wishing that he felt the same. And suddenly you realize that maybe he's been doing the exact same thing.

“I’m sorry. I-”

You silence him by crossing the kitchen quickly and practically tackling him into a hug before pressing your lips to his. His eyes widen in shock before they flutter closed and a soft exhale escapes him. It's everything you've ever dreamed it would be.

As you pull away, you’re met with a wide-eyed Jake with a pretty blush spreading across his face.

“I’m in love with you too, silly.”

A smile spreads across his face, making his eyes glitter in a way that makes your knees weak.

“Really?”

“Really.” You tell him, lacing your fingers with his. “Just didn’t think you felt the same.”

“Neither did I.”

Jake looks away suddenly, casting his gaze back towards the glass doors where the sunset is on full display. A tiny little laugh falls from between his plump lips.

“What?”

“Oh, nothing.” He says, turning back to look at you. “I’ve just always dreamed of kissing you in front of a sunset.”

“Oh.” You can feel the heat spreading across your face. “Maybe um. Maybe you should do it again. Just to make sure you remember the feeling.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever forget.” He admits, before pressing his lips to yours once again.

.•° ✿ °•.❁.•° ✿ °•.

•

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