#fluff? angst??? a guilty pleasure
Text
What if...?
The feminine urge to write something about Barbatos admiring the MC from afar. I'd love to call this idea "To Every 'You' I adore" and honestly I'm digging it.
♡.. In a scenario where in almost every universe, almost every timeline, the MC chooses anyone BUT him. Although instead of taking action, Barbatos swallows it all down, often watching MC from a distance. Was it fair to think luck was on the human's side?
♡.. When Mammon took MC to the casino, they seem to have won every bet.
♡.. When Leviathan told MC about this raffle to get tickets to a concert of their favourite idol, they seem to get that PLUS VIP access backstage.
♡.. With Satan they went to the finest of cafés and tasted the most delicate of confectionery. With Asmodeus MC kept 'accidentally' trying new garments for them to love. With Beelzebub it's all you can eat, much to the sweet grin they had while wiping off the crumbs off the sin's face.
♡.. With Belphegor was special; MC's constellation perfectly aligned at the time of their date — so they themselves could admire from afar.
♡.. With Solomon they'd fly through the skies in a hot-aired balloon, looking down at city lights of a new place. Or better: new to Solomon, but held deeply in MC's heart. A place that they themselves could admire from afar.
♡.. With Simeon, MC could accidentally spill ink on the parchment, and instead of ruining the page it created waves of gray; a scenery of inspiration for the setting of the angel's new story. A place so far, to be admired in the lens of the reader.
♡.. Lucifer would comment at how MC's luck was astonishing, terrifying even. It's odd to think how a mere human would always have good fortune. Almost always.
♡.. With Lord Diavolo, MC would go and chuckle at their humble remark, while the prince's lips placed soft kisses on the human's knuckles. How their smile brings light in the darkest days of the harsh coldness the Devildom brings. The sheer warmth present in their every word. It's not always the case, but that was how he viewed it.
♡.. Barbatos would put up an indifferent smile, watching the human mingle with his lord. It was in one of these instances where even with the immense ability to control time, he felt powerless. Much to the fate's dismay, this was when he hated the path of destiny. In almost all outcomes, it was least likely he'd end up with his beloved. How he adored MC, even if they were bound to never be his.
Who knows? It sounds almost like a lovesick idea as I myself am unsure if this leans more on fluff or angst. Tell me if you guys liked the idea, or how you may suggest that I improved it! ^^
Aka this is Vee's Barbatos brainrot since I've been craving Barb content but also very specific kind of Barb content so this is me attempting to fill that void before Solomon or Mammon take over my writings.
Anyhow, that is my "What if?" Scenario! :D To quote: "Even with how repetitive this scene gets, his immortal beloved never ceased to amaze him like the very first time."
That is all and have a nice day~! 🫶
#obey me nightbringer#obey me!#obey me#obey me barbatos#canon x reader#barbatos x mc#barbatos x reader#obey me barbatos x reader#what if#ideas#fanfic ideas#fluff? angst??? a guilty pleasure#live laugh love barbatos i wish time was real#admiring from afar#obey me shall we date
88 notes
·
View notes
Text
The door to your room is cracked open just a bit. Solomon stands there, looking at you with an unreadable expression. You haven't noticed him. And why would you?
Mammon's head is in your lap. He's kneeling on the floor by your bed where you're sitting. Your fingers are slowly carding through his hair. You're both quiet. No words are needed. This is where you both end up on days where everyday life feels too heavy. When your burdens become too much. It doesn't matter where or when or what version of you. This is your peace.
Solomon's expression is unreadable except for the smallest frown.
#Jealous characters are a weakness of mine#A guilty pleasure#Also there was that one chat where Solomon absolutely eviscerates poor Mammon with a huge list of evidence regarding his feelings for MC#obey me mammon#mammon obey me#mammon x reader#mammon x you#obey me mammon x you#obey me mammon x reader#obey me angst#obey me fluff#solomon obey me#obey me solomon
394 notes
·
View notes
Text
hondo & sandman angst and fluff hcs!!
request by @wierdlesbian!!!
hcs below the cut!!
Fluff
they often do paralel play (basically doing different things around each other) a whole lot
hondo knows how to crochet (im not spelling that right 99%) and makes cute little plushies whenever hes sad
they communicate by silly drawings, whenever sandman is mad at him for something silly (i.e not cleaning up the shower after using it, forgetting the milk outside the fridge) he'll doodle his chibi-self with a pissed off face
hondo usually makes tea for sandman after workouts, in return sandman makes him some smoothies since hondo doesnt eat enough fruit
sandman & hondo cant exercise together due to them constantly making jokes around each other and leaving themselves out of breath by trying to exercise & make jokes at the same time
Hondo will buy sweets everytime he goes to the store because he knows sandman has a sweet tooth and nothing is worse than a sweet tooth left without sugar
Angst
Since both of them cant really express affection & are also direct people they have outright asked each other "are you forcing yourself to be happy around me?" And "do you not love me?" multiple times
both of their parents dont approve their relationship and since theyre family oriented people that hurts them a whole lot, all they wanted was to have their family be glad they found someone they love
both of them cant apologize to save their lives & theyre not willing to use the fruit bowl apology so they end up writing apology notes to each other that have sentences like "i understand if you wanna break up with me." And "its okay if you dont wanna be with me anymore."
Both of them isolate themselves when theyre angry & sad, but they still see each other in the house so they just make really sad eye contact with both of their faces red from crying & eyes puffy from all that, especially after tough arguments
After bad arguments they cant bear to see each other, they just break into tears
#punch out#headcanon#punch out wii#punch out headcanons#piston hondo#mr sandman#angst is a guilty pleasure for me. traumatize the scrunklies <3#and so is fluff
10 notes
·
View notes
Text
Royal/Fae Marriage AU Concept: Y'know that thing mentioned in period piece webcomics and novels where the main protag will, like, sometimes embroider a handkerchief for their partner to keep with them as a little "forget-me-not" keepsake?
Imagine having not ever been taught embroidery, but learning about it after being married to Fae!Sunny/Moon, and wanting to make them something to show them your appreciation.
And you spend months learning how to sew and embroider until you can finally make something you feel is good enough to gift them, and they notice all the little band-aids on your fingers from where you've been pricking yourself with the needle while practicing and they just
#royal marriage au#fae au#sunnydrop (mentioned)#moondrop (mentioned)#sfw#scenario#light angst#fluff#cute#you make one for sun#one for moon#and one for them both#each of them are incredibly intricate and unique#i've been reading a LOT of period-piece webcomics#they're kind of my guilty pleasure#like trashy victorian romance novels but in comic form#i'm a hopeless romantic who lives for this shit i'm sorry!!!!
42 notes
·
View notes
Text
Jungkook Fic Recommendations
a - angst
f - fluff
s - smut
⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆
Series
Home (f s a)
One Shots
forget me not (a f)
⊹₊⋆ The one where everytime you get dumped you pretend that you never met the guy before to mess with their heads. To the point that if you run into them somewhere you reintroduce yourself and act like you’ve never seen each other before. Enters fuckboy Jungkook who disappears after your night together, not knowing how much he was about to regret that choice.
champagne confetti (a s)
⊹₊⋆ You, a determined fashion designer, find yourself entangled in a collaboration with the irresistibly charming and egotistic heartthrob, Jeon Jungkook. Will this partnership remain strictly professional, or will he make the lines blur?
bottle up old love (a s f)
⊹₊⋆ Jungkook may have broken up with you a year ago, but that's not going to stop him from coming to your rescue when he sees you being cornered by a creep.
cabin fever (f s a)
⊹₊⋆ trapped in a cabin with your ex-best friend jungkook, you’re forced to overcome the fallout between you two.
romantic dreams (s a)
⊹₊⋆ he’s always dreamt of finding his soulmate in some romantic way, bells ringing, birds chirping, maybe even a shine of light over their head. he never imagined to find them living next door to him with absolutely no clue to the extent of the growing infatuation he has toward you until it’s a little too late. hypnotized by your entire existence he finds his dreams and delusions of love to be a little too intense for anyone to bear.
Guilty Pleasures (a s)
⊹₊⋆ Three years of being Seoul's power couple earns you nothing but a big fat divorce settlement and your face plaster on every gossip column around town. You're angry, hurt, and desperately want to move on, but worst of all? You're still in love with the man who started the whole mess, even though the most he can ever see you as is a friend. The renowned actor you've hired to be your company's new endorser seems to have a soft spot for you though. He's easy on the eyes, you'll admit, but who actually wants a divorcee like yourself? It's unrealistic really.
Better Boyfriend Than Him (a s)
⊹₊⋆ jungkook makes it a mission to prove to you that he can be better than your boring boyfriend. when it comes to sex, at least.
strictly platonic (f a s)
⊹₊⋆ Sometimes, Jungkook can be a little selfish; and sometimes, the lengths you would go to for his happiness mean relinquishing your own.
#bts#bts x reader#bts fic recs#bts smut#bts angst#bts fluff#jungkook#jungkook x reader#jungkook fic recs#jungkook fluff#jungkook smut#jungkook angst#jeon jungkook
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
[Angst with small Fluff] Satan X Valkyrie Williams *Lose Control*
Trigger Warnings!: Angst, Transformation, Bullying, Strong Language, Valkyrie becoming a monster, Small Comfort, Angst with a happy ending, and Fluff at the ending
Silence filled the hallways as Valkyrie walked past some students that were gathering or placing their bags in their lockers, her violet eyes were focused on the flooring in front of her, while her hearing picked up whispering of other students; which made her shrug her shoulders as she continues to walk to her first class. “Valkyrie, you’re a bit early for class.” Sephtis is one of the few teachers of RAD and mostly, Valkyrie’s uncle. “I had to skip breakfast due to the club president calling for an important meeting,” She explained as she placed her books down.
“Lucifer told me before he went to a council meeting before RAD started, both I and your aunt are worried about you.” Sephits pointed out while placing a hand on his niece’s shoulder, knowing that she was having issues with the other students, but it’s mostly the female students that are giving her issues. “If it’s those demonesses that have been bothering you, I can report their behavior to Lord Diavolo and Lucifer.” He noticed that his niece went quiet for a few minutes, only looking at him with her eyes.
Valkyrie shook her head softly while letting out a small sigh, placing her hands in her coat’s pockets. “No uncle, it’s fine. I’m sure Lord Diavolo and Lucifer have their hands tied with more important things.” She lifted one hand out of her pocket, waving her hand softly before placing it back into the pocket. “If you say so, but my door is always open if you need an escape.” Sephits pat his niece’s head softly before walking back to his desk, watching as students started to come into the classroom, including Cassandra, Ellessa, Julieta, and Fuyune.
Ellessa sat next to Valkyrie while both Cassandra and Julieta sat in front of them, while Fuyune had to sit behind both Ellessa and Valkyrie. “Where were you this morning? You skipped breakfast?” Ellessa whispered to the half-demon beside her, causing her to look at the ice-demoness. “I had a club meeting to go to this morning, meaning I had to skip breakfast,” Valkyrie explained to her friend, while Fuyune and Julieta looked at her with concern on their faces. “Fair enough, but don’t leave without texting us first.” Ellessa flicks Valkyrie’s forehead.
The class had started due to the bell ringing once every single student made it to their classes, Sephits started to teach his class about different kingdoms in each realm, even though it was a touchy subject for him since he had a first-hand experience in the war between Devildom and Celestial realm, clearing his throat softly before turning around to face his students. “Now! I want you to study the history of Devildom’s war, there will be a pop quiz for it!” He slams his hand on the blackboard, startling some of his students.
Students became startled when the bell rang to let them know that their class was over and it was on to the next course, making Sephits shake his head softly while facepalming himself. “You’re dismissed,” He said in an annoyed tone, turning his back on the leaving students as he started erasing the written notes off of the blackboard. The five girls headed out of the classroom, Ellessa and Fuyune dismissed themselves from the group, leaving Julieta, Cassandra, and Valkyrie together; since the three of them have the same class.
~Timeskip, because I can’t drag this on~
Valkyrie finished writing down notes that she needs to study for the quizzes, along with helping Julieta with some of her missing notes, holding down her notebook as her human friend write down the notes. “I can’t believe Diavolo allowed a human in our school, along with a filthy half-breed,” One of the female demonesses sitting behind them was talking out loud, causing Julieta to stop writing and Cassandra turning her head towards the demonesses; only for them to look away. “Ignore them,” Valkyrie pat her friend’s head softly.
Idiots, constantly poking fun at a human… A voice startles Valkyrie when she looked around the room, only seeing the teacher at their desk and the other students at their desks. Along with calling you, my dear Valkyrie, a half-breed of a human and a demon. The voice in Valkyrie’s head continues, making the half-demoness shake her head softly. “Are you okay, Val? You look pale.” Cassandra asked as she leans against her chair, having her hands behind her head as her silver eyes were on her friend. “I don’t know,” Valkyrie placed a hand on her forehead.
Cassandra also placed a hand on her friend’s forehead, making a note to herself. “Well, you don’t feel warm.” She removed her hand from Valkyrie’s forehead, however, a certain blond-haired male demon walked towards them. “Uh-Oh, boyfriend coming this way.” The vampiress had noticed Satan coming up to them by the corner of her eye, watching the male demon come up to their small group. “Valkyrie, Julieta, Cassandra.” Satan greeted the three female students, watching as both Valkyrie and Cassandra slid into their seats to make room for him to sit down.
“I hope you’re not planning on skipping Lunch as you did with breakfast,” Satan sat next to Valkyrie, poking at her cheek softly. “How many times do people have to bring that up today?” She asked while rubbing her cheek, shaking her head softly. “Yes, I’ll be eating lunch.” She added, noticing that her boyfriend was smiling. “Good, since it’s almost time for lunch anyways.” The blond-haired demon pats his girlfriend’s head softly, hearing the bell ring right on time, making the students gather their things and leave the classroom in a hurry.
The group made their way to the Cafeteria, both Ellessa and Fuyune had joined the group, and the two ice demons walked beside both Valkyrie and Julieta. “I wonder what’s for lunch, hopefully, it’s something good.” Ellessa had her arm around her younger sister’s shoulders, even though the two weren’t sisters by blood, that’s what Ellessa had told Valkyrie when she found out that they didn’t share the same last name, nor were they related by blood. “What do you think, Valkyrie?” The ice demoness looked at her friend with a big grin on her face.
“It’s probably from Yesterday’s lunch, which I wouldn’t mind.” The half-demoness replied to her friend’s question but stops in her tracks while letting out a small sigh. “I’m going wash my hands real quick, I’ll meet you guys at the cafeteria.” She waves her hand softly before walking away from the group, heading towards the women's restroom to wash her hands since it’s becoming a habit of hers. Little Bird, they’re noticing your sudden change of behavior. The voice in her head had made her flinch a bit, but unaware of the demonesses coming in.
“Well, well. If it isn’t the half-breed, I was hoping on picking on the human girl… But oh well, you’ll just have to do.” The leader demoness walked close to Valkyrie, even though the half-demoness just rolled her eyes, which made the leader demoness annoyed and very angry. “We’re going teach you a lesson, half-breed!” A second demoness chuckle softly while the group started to surround the ombre-haired color female, which made her narrow her violet eyes. Little bird, you’re surrounded… What are you going to do…? The voice asked.
“Ignoring us again? How pathic are you?” The leader demoness slaps Valkyrie across the face, making her take a few steps back while placing her hand on the place where she was slapped, her eyes started to turn black with white pupils. “Big mistake,” When Valkyrie looked at the group of the demoness, liquid started to fall from her eye sockets, along with her mouth. “You shouldn’t have picked me as your target, dumbasses.” The now enraged Valkyrie made her way towards the demonesses, while her bones started to crack.
The lead demoness took a step back when her group had left the restroom while screaming bloody murder, almost tripping when Valkyrie had come up close to her with unspeakable speed, feeling sharp nails digging into her skin. She watched in horror as the half-demoness’ appearance started to change when the shadows started to engulf her, changing her into a creature. Soon, the lead demoness had managed to escape from the clutches of the creature when it lifted its paw, having blood coming out of the wound that was on her face.
‘What happened? I only remember getting smacked by the leader bully…’ Valkyrie still had her thoughts, even though she noticed that she was in her mind space, however, she wasn’t alone. “Hello, little bird. It’s finally nice to meet you in person.” The creature that’s been talking to her had revealed itself to her, stepping out of the shadows, it had a skull for a head, while its body resembles a tiger’s body shape and has its markings; even though they were hard to tell. “What are you?” Valkyrie asked while becoming fearful.
The creature started to chuckle softly while making its way to Valkyrie, only stopping and sitting down in front of her. “Little bird, I am you. Expect, I’m your beast form. Shadow demons such as yourself, your uncle, and your father have beast forms. However, you’re the first ever half-demon to have such power.” The shadow beast explained to the half-demoness, placing its paw on her hand. “My beast form?” Valkyrie looked at the shadow beast while watching it nod its head softly.
‘That means, I have lost control…’ Valkyrie thought to herself while looking at her beast form, however, she could hear the screams and shout from the outside of her body. “That’s correct, little bird.” Her beast form replied while looking around, surely she had remembered that both her uncle and aunt were upset that she had to move into the House Lamentation. “Now I remember, I lost control because when my powers started coming in… My aunt and uncle had to rehome me because of my powers.” She closed her eyes.
~Back to the outer side~
Sephtis and Hitomi came running when they heard the commotion due to the shouting and screaming, along with a creature’s roar that had ringed out. “Do you think…?” Hitomi looked at her husband with a worried look on her face. “I don’t know, darling.” Sephits knew his wife was worried about their niece, even though he should’ve seen the signs earlier, soon enough, the two stopped when they had to stumble upon the creature; along with seeing Julieta, Ellessa, Cassandra, Fuyune, and the brothers standing there in horror.
“Valkyrie!” Hitomi shouted which caused the creature to look over at her, but also caused everyone to look shocked to find out that the creature was Valkyrie. “That’s Valkyrie?! I thought it was some random creature that got into the school!” Mammon shouted in shock, while Satan frowns softly to know that his girlfriend had turned into a creature, however, his frown disappeared when he remembered the demonesses that had picked on both Valkyrie and Julieta. “Yes, we shadow demons have beast forms.” Sephits replied with a serious tone.
Soon enough, Diavolo appeared with Barbatos right behind him, only for him to notice the creature that was pacing around. “My lord, that appears to be Lady Valkyrie.” The demon butler warned his young master, a frown appeared on the prince’s face when he realize that the creature was Valkyrie. “The poor thing,” Baisley walked past her future husband and the demon butler, only to kneel in front of Valkyrie’s beast form, placing both hands on the skull-head-like appearance. “Who did this to you?” She asked, earning a small whine from the beast.
“Little bird, you have a lot of people that truly care about you.” Valkyrie’s inner beast commented on how she has people that truly care about her, along with becoming her family. “Reach out to them, and don’t worry about me… I’m always here, in your mind.” It added while watching tears falling from Valkyrie’s eyes. ‘I can’t help myself, I hurt someone during school hours… But I’ll accept any punishment that I’ll receive.’ She thought to herself as she reached out her hand.
A hand popped out from the beast’s back and wiggled around, only being held by Baisley and helping Valkyrie raise from the beast’s body, helping her stand on her own two feet but being in a weakened state. “I’ve got you, Val.” The elder ice demoness smiled softly, helping the half-demoness to the small group of her friends. “I’m sorry…” She stopped when Satan hugged her tightly, only making the elder ice demoness chuckle softly. “You’re an idiot, but I’m glad that you’re okay.” The blond-haired demon mutter, keeping his girlfriend close to him.
“What about us?!” One of the demonesses asked while flinching when Hitomi looked over to them, stepping in front of Satan and Valkyrie. “Yes, what about you? Well, if it’s up to me, I’ll expel you for a week or more. But that’s not up to me,” The elder female folds her arms to her chest, while Sephits nods his head softly. “Miss. Valkyrie will be expelled for two weeks, you girls will have four weeks.” Lucifer glared at the female bullies, before shifting his attention to Valkyrie. “I accept that.” She bows her head softly.
~Epilogue~
Valkyrie lays on her bad while looking up to the ceiling as she has been spending time recovering and studying during her time of being Expelled, it was only temporary since some schools allowed students to come back once their expulsion has come to an end, however, she had promised Lucifer that she’ll keep her temper under control and report any type of bullying to him, Sephits, Hitomi, or to Prince Diavolo. “Valkyrie, are you awake?” Satan asked on the other side of her door. “Yes, I’m awake.” She replied as she lift herself from her laying position.
Satan soon came into her room with a tray of snacks and drinks in his hands, along with his notebook and pencil since the two agreed on studying together, plus having a snack while they study. The blond-haired demon also promised that he would let her copy his notes, to help her catch up on what they learn. “Lucifer said that you’ll be able to come back to RAD once this week has passed,” He smiled while setting the tray down on her nightstand, his eyes wandering around her room.
“He told me already, along with Baisley when she visited me.” The half-demoness runs a hand through her ombre hair while humming softly, watching her boyfriend sitting down next to her and holding her hand softly. “Lady Baisley came here? By herself?” He asked while feeling his girlfriend place her head on top of his shoulder. “Yes, but she also visited her sisters and Julieta to make sure that they were doing alright.” She chuckles softly as she closed her violet eyes, hearing Satan humming softly.
“That’s nice of her, to come and visit everyone.” Satan chuckles softly while wrapping an arm around Valkyrie’s side, being thankful that Lucifer had shown her mercy since the demonesses that had been bullying her and Julieta had confessed everything to him. “I’m just glad that you’re okay, love.” He pulled her closer to him, kissing her forehead softly. “Hmm, I’m glad too.” Valkyrie couldn’t help but giggle since her boyfriend had always seemed to comfort her or make her smile.
~
Hello everyone, sorry if this seemed rushed or anything like that. This was a stress-relief piece for me since I was under a lot of stress and needed something to release all the stress, so I typed this all week.
Yes, I play Obey Me [The Mobile Game] and watched the anime.
I’m not good at writing fight scenes (I’m trying my best).
Also, there will be mistakes that I can't fix at this time, but they will be fixed soon. ^^'
Characters may be out of character, this is my first time writing an Obey Me story... Q~QThere will be some errors and spelling mistakes!
The image does not belong to me, it belongs to its rightful owner!
Obey Me characters belong to NTT Solmare Corp
Cassandra, Baisley, Valkyrie, Julieta, Ellessa, and Fuyune belong to me.
#Angst To Fluff#Happy Ending at the end#Obey Me X Original Character#Satan X Original Character#Stress Relief#Guilty Pleasures
0 notes
Text
no more mister shy guy.
OP x fem!reader
in which you can’t work out why he just won’t sleep with you
i am neither normal, nor am i hinged! i hope you guys get the vision, i literally wrote this last night possessed by some feral urge bc i just love oscar sm and i’ve been needing to write for him sooo baaad. enjoy! pls lemme know what you think <3
songs to set the vibes: delicate by taylor swift, good looking by suki waterhouse, my kind of woman by max demarco, feeling myself by wolf alice
warnings: 18+!! minors dni!! smut, pwp but also there is some plot? overstimulation, crying in a hot way, choking, unprotected sex (L bozo don’t do that!) the most minor moment of angst, fluff
2.8k words
you watch him make coffee, daydreaming, balancing your heavy head on your hand. you study him while your free hand taps against the kitchen counter, nails drumming a random beat. sunlight streams through a gap in the curtains, framing him golden. you don’t think he knows how pretty he is.
oscar is oblivious to the way your mind is ticking behind him, twisting the cap on the carton of oat-milk. you hear the plastic fall onto the counter and your tongue wets your lower lip as he reaches up into the cupboard, his back flexing beneath his shirt as he finds your favourite mug. you realise then how swollen your lip is, snapped out of the trance he had you in, the one that had you biting your lip so hard, completely mindlessly.
he’s bulked up over the winter break, filled out a lot over the course of his rookie season. he’s no longer the scrawny, anxious guy you’d met at your fathers work event a year ago, he’s broader, thicker in your hands, utterly delicious. as much as you like the way he looks, you like his mind a whole lot more. if only you knew what was going on inside it.
oscar is an enigma, quiet, hilariously dry, the kindest man you’d ever had the pleasure of meeting. you’ve been together since the start of the winter break, november, after awkward run ins and plenty of pining since the start of his first season. you’d travel to races with your dad, a mclaren sponsor, and run into the australian, stare at each other and pretend no one noticed. after months of teasing from lando, oscar finally got the kick up the arse that he needed and you’d said yes to dinner before he’d even finished asking the question.
it’s february now, a week til he needs to be in bahrain. the last three months had been serene, spent with a man made of sunshine, and you’re sad to see him go, as if you won’t be in the emirates a mere four days after him. you fear the way you’ll ache for him, having been inseparable since the dinner that started it all.
but then again, it can’t be worse than the way you ache for him now.
“sweetheart?” oscar is waving his hand in front of your face when you realise he’s been calling your name for a good 15 seconds, and you have, in fact, been staring. hm? you jump, staring at him bewildered. he looks amused. “you okay?” he coos, sliding the coffee across the island towards you.
“yeah, sorry, i, um, i just- why won’t you have sex with me?” you blurt, slapping your hand over your mouth as soon as you realise what you’ve just said.
oscar just blinks, mouth forming a little o, the permanent blush he seems to have increasing tenfold. you instantly feel guilty for ambushing him, but you were at the end of your tether. three months of nothing, nada, zilch. every move you made was refuted, ignored as if he was oblivious. you were ravenous for him, he’s so gorgeous! and you didn’t want to pressure him, but you were starting to feel like there was something wrong with you.
you’d wake up in bed with him wrapped around you, grinding against your ass in his sleep, and you’d revel in it, the rare times that he actually seemed to want you like that. you loved him regardless, of course you did, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t need to be… dealt with. urgently.
“i- um- what?” oscar splutters, and the bottom of his mug blinks against the granite.
“is there something wrong with me? am i not pretty enough?” you whisper, shy. “do you just not… like- do you not want to do that?” you ramble.
panic fills his face, and he’s rushing around the island, by your side in an instant. he takes your hands into his, finding your eyes. they’ve grown watery, a mixture of guilt and desperation swirling in them which makes him feel ill.
“baby, no, god no.” he rushes the words out, desperate to convince you that it wasn’t you. “you’re the most beautiful person in the entire world, prettiest girl i ever saw.” he promises. “i’m just… it’s scary.”
“oh, osc.” your face falls, and you want to throw yourself off of the balcony. “i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to pressure you. if it makes you feel better, i’m scared too. but i love you so much, i just want to feel even closer to you.”
“you didn’t make me feel pressured, i’m just sorry i made you feel unwanted. trust me, i want you like that. drives me insane. but i’ve never had sex before with someone that i love. not the way i love you, anyway. scared that i won’t be good enough for you.” he murmurs.
you’re hung up on the part where you drive him crazy, the part where he loves you like that, and then you remember how vulnerable he’s being, baring his entire soul to you, and you rip yourself from the fantasy.
your hands smooth over his shoulders, until you’re softly fisting a clump of hair at the nape of his neck.
“i love you. insanely. we’ll go slow.” you state. he moulds further against you, and you quickly realise it’s for leverage, because the next thing you know, you’re in his arms. he has his hands hooked under your thighs and he’s kissing you so, so deeply that you’re dizzy. you don’t realise that you’re halfway to his bedroom until he pulls away.
“i don’t wanna go slow anymore.”
oscar places you on your feet at the end of his bed, the large, plush king-sized mattress that is currently calling both of your names. your blouse gets unbuttoned first, his hands shaking in a way that makes you melt, and his lips trail over every inch of bare skin that he uncovers. when it finally falls to the floor, his pupils are blown wide, his hands palming intricate black lace. your jeans are stripped away mercilessly, his hands shaking less now, and you take it as a sign to crawl backwards onto the bed.
he stands there, watching you, apprehensive again. you can see how hard he is, how desperately strained his cock is through the light grey of his sweatpants, and so you switch tactics. your hand grazes your tummy, skimming up your abdomen until you reach a bra strap. you toy with the elastic, holding the kind of eye contact that makes him twitch, tugging it until it hangs loosely off of your shoulder.
“i need you, osc. i trust you.” you utter, soft and enticing. one finger runs under the cup of your bra, flicking over your nipple. he can just about see the hardened bud through the lace of your bra. it’s not enough, though, and every ounce of self control depletes when you whine, “want you inside of me so badly.”
the elastic band snaps and he’s on top of you, rutting between your legs like a man starved. you drag his shirt up and over his shoulder blades, moaning as you feel each and every muscle under your fingertips.
“just wanna make you feel good.” oscar rasps, rolling his hips even harder into your core.
“take these off.” you beg, pulling at the waistband of his joggers. he somehow musters the strength to pry himself off of you, just long enough to discard the uncomfortable material of his sweats, but as soon as he looks down, his plans change.
painted over the crotch of them is a shiny pool of your slick, and when his eyes flit hungrily to your core, he sees where you’ve soaked through your panties. you’re panting when you see the stain, and you just want to get him inside of you, but his priorities have changed. oscar collapses between your legs, head buried, tongue exploring.
he groans, carnal and needy, into the fabric of your underwear, laving his tongue over the lace. your eyes widen as he dives in, licking over the wet patch until he grows frustrated. you hear the tearing of the fabric, feel his big hands pawing at your thighs to spread them as wide as they’ll go. his tongue slides right inside of you and he whines. he fucking whines. the vibration nearly makes you scream. you can’t believe this is your oscar, the same oscar that had quivered with nerves a mere five minutes ago.
“oh my god.” you chant, rolling your hips against his face. you must be all over him by now, what with the way he’s sucking and slurping, obscene sounds of wetness sounding around the room. you’d be blushing a deep red if you weren’t so turned on, shaking against his bedspread which will probably need changing once he’s done with you.
you thought that maybe he was inexperienced and that was the source of his fear, but if he was, you never would have known. he was a natural in between your legs, nipping at your clit to get you even louder for him.
you cum faster than ever, and he’s mumbling something incoherent into your pussy when you do. you’re riding the high, midway through the bliss, when a thick finger slips its way inside of you. oscar realises that he can easily slide another in, and he does. he doesn’t thrust them in and out, he grinds them against your walls, and your mouth falls open as a silent scream forces it’s way out.
you cum a second time, in record time yet again, and he still doesn’t let up. he’s hitting that spot relentlessly with his fingers, keeping your clit between his swollen lips, and you’re begging him. for what, you’re not sure, but you’re whimpering his name like you’re going to die. and what a good way to go this would be.
his eyes meet yours, and he looks unhinged. that’s when you feel it. that all consuming, belly twisting rush.
“oscar!” you try to warn him, but it’s too late, and he knows it. he makes you squirt, because of course he does. the shy guy who was scared that he wouldn’t be able to please you makes you squirt.
he pulls his mouth off of you but keeps his fingers buried deep, eyes fixed on watching the way your pussy convulses.
“holy shit.” you cry. you’re staring down at him like you’ve gone insane. he’s smiling innocently.
“was that good?” he almost sounds shy and you want to kick him.
“are you… are you serious?” you rasp. oscar just shrugs. “get up here.” you reach for him and complies, slotting himself between your legs once more.
oscar resumes the rolls of his hips, and the friction of the grey fabric against your core makes your eyes roll back.
“please, oscar, fuck me.” you whine, his head falling into the crook of your neck. he bites down, leaving behind the sting of his teeth and a faint purple splotch.
“fucking love you.” he slurs, his accent thickening in a way that makes him sound that extra bit fucked out already.
“i love you.” you murmur, forcing his sweats down his legs. his boxers are wet, just like your panties were, and you can’t help but stare. oh, it’s big.
his boxers are peeled down and you can feel yourself throbbing. his cock hangs heavy, red and dripping, painfully hard. you reach for it, looking at him to make sure it’s okay to touch, and he’s rapidly nodding his head. your small hand struggles but you make it work, and his head tips back, exposing his thick neck that you want to suck purple. your hand works over him a few times, and a visible shiver running through his body makes you stop.
“you ready for me?” he asks through gritted teeth.
“please.” you gasp, locking your legs around his waist. “however you want me, ‘m yours.” you breathe.
oscar’s eyes roll back in his head, your words sending his brain blank, and then he’s pushing home, slow and deep.
“fucking hell.” he groans, guttural. you’re so tight, warm, soaking wet. he feels like the biggest idiot in the world for waiting so long for this.
“oh.” you gasp, your eyebrows knitting together. he’s so deep. “so full.” you pant.
“can you take it, sweetheart?” oscar’s lips bump your jaw. “want you to take it.” you nod profusely, desperate to hear him run his mouth even further. your eyes clench shut when you feel him move, just the tiniest bit, readjusting.
“move.” you plead. he’s staring down at you, watching every single micro movement of your face.
oscar pulls out the smallest bit and thrusts back in, nice and slow. the drag drives you feral, the weight of him on top of you makes you weak. you want to stay like this until the end of days.
“good?” he hisses, trying to keep composed. he’s finally inside of you, claiming you as his in the most intimate way of all. he tries not to think about how many times he could have had you begging under him in the last three months.
“so good, so good.” you repeat, pushing your hips up to try and meet his.
“so pretty like this for me. always so, so pretty.” he rambles. he realises that he never quite made it as far as getting your bra off, and he needs to see all of you. the cups are tugged haphazardly down, and oscar stares at your breasts like he’s never seen tits before. you hear him hum, low and greedy, and then you feel the wet drag of his tongue across your nipple.
the animalistic whine that he rips from you makes him thrust harder, upping his pace a bit. he can hear how much wetter you get when he picks up his pace, and he changes up his rhythm, pushing all the way in and dragging out again at lightning speed. your jaw goes slack and your eyes are damp.
“baby, what’s wrong?” oscar slows to a stop, and you want to scream.
“no, no, no, keep going.” you choke out, your throat constricting with a sob. “it’s so good. feel so good.” you sound drunk, all for him, and he loses his mind completely.
he taps into that athletic stamina, fucking into you with a newfound vigour that you didn’t think was humanly possible, and you feel things that you didn’t even know you could feasibly feel. you see stars behind your eyes, his face, and nothing else but bright white. calloused fingers find your clit, and you wonder fleetingly if he’s trying to kill you when he rubs messy shapes into the much too overstimulated bud. his teeth graze your nipple, and everything seems to come together perfectly.
thick tears run hot down your cheeks, only to be licked away by eager tongue. your belly tightens, aflame for him; he’s wound your body up perfectly and you’ve never in your life teetered so dangerously over the edge.
“can feel you, baby. want you to cum, okay? ‘n then i’m gonna fill you up.” oscar grunts. you clamp down on him even tighter, thanking god for oscar’s filthy fucking mouth and birth control, and then everything snaps.
you think you scream, you know that you’re sobbing, and your throat is raw when the wave hits. oscar keeps going, intensifying your pleasure, and when he finally let’s go, it’s the most beautiful fucking thing you’ve ever seen. it’s surreal, the way his neck flexes, eyes clenched tight, brown locks flopping over his sweat damped forehead. and the sounds he makes, god. he’s muttering into your ear, lewd and shameless, and a fifth orgasm nearly takes you under.
“gonna need you everyday like this, tight fucking pussy, all mine. can’t live without this now. fucking perfect.” he’s rambling, burrowing deep into you one last time. you feel his warmth spilling into you, feel his hot breath fanning your face. he licks into your awaiting mouth.
“fuck.” you giggle, breathless.
“good?” he raises an eyebrow, grinning bashfully.
“more than worth the wait.” you whisper, mustering the strength to lift your head just enough so that you can peck his lips. “you better not hold out on me ever again though.” oscar laughs at that and you feel the rumble in your flushed chest.
“you promise?” there’s the shy guy again.
“osc, honey, that was the best. ever. ever. need you to be mr sex god more often.”
“only if you behave for me.” he smirks down at you.
“there he is.” you sigh happily.
when he snakes his way back between your legs, lapping up the mess he’s made, and then some, you wonder just what you’ve unleashed.
-
whoops? lol
-
taglist
@thegirlinthefandoms @mcmuppet @japanesekel @vinvantae @ggaslyp1 @dr3lover @smiithys @rachstash @infinitebells @fizzpopsnap101 @gaily19 @icecoldtires @mysticalnightenthusiast @thatchickwiththecamera @oyesmendes @disneydaydreameralways @canyouseethesainz @ferrarifwendvale @fcbformulaeri @tony-stank3 @maih23 @nokiaholland @soleilgrec @carolineworld @anthonykatebridgerton @allywthsr @iamasimpingh0e @ophcelia @lovelynikol16 @coffeehurricanes @jennx03 @blueflorals @lqvesoph @sidcrosbyspuck @better-dead-than-smeg @buendiabebeta @pjofics @kovalcin @wintergilmore3 @for-writing-shit @youdontknowmeshh @im-an-overthinker @jule239 @darleneslane @jazzy722 @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @therealone4r @pleasecallmeunhinged @theonlyadrienne @spideylovin @charli123456789
(run outta space on my taglist lol, lemme know if u wanna be added or removed)
#oscar piastri#oscar piastri smut#oscar piastri fic#oscar piastri oneshot#oscar piastri imagine#oscar piastri fluff#oscar piastri angst#oscar piastri fics#f1 smut#f1 fluff#f1 fic#f1 fics#f1 imagine#f1 oneshot#formula 1 smut#formula 1 fics#formula 1 fic#oscar piastri x you#oscar piastri x reader#f1 driver x you#f1 driver x reader#smut#fluff
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
Guilty Pleasures ༓ jjk, kth (m) | Series M.list
✒ Summary: Three years of being Seoul's power couple earns you nothing but a big fat divorce settlement and your face plaster on every gossip column around town. You're angry, hurt, and desperately want to move on, but worst of all? You're still in love with the man who started the whole mess, even though the most he can ever see you as is a friend. The renowned actor you've hired to be your company's new endorser seems to have a soft spot for you though. He's easy on the eyes, you'll admit, but who actually wants a divorcee like yourself? It's unrealistic really.
pairing: ex-husband ceo!jungkook x ceo!reader, actor!taehyung x ceo!reader (not poly!)
genre/AU: angst, smut, fluff, loverstoexesto ?, coworkers2?, unrequited love
word count: tbd
Warnings: oc and jk are both 30, Taehyung is 32, swearing, alcohol consumption, sexism in the media and business world, morally grey characters, toxic relationships, mentions of therapy, abandonment issues, and explicit sexual content (specified per chapter)
playing: Unkiss Me, Apologize, Hate That I Love You, etc.
a/n: ik what you're thinking! This header is low effort but it's what i got for now 😫 forgive me pls! Also yeah its another fricken taekook love triangle-ish bc I can't let this scenario go. Was supposed to be a oneshot but here we are...i hope you enjoy! 🌹❤
Chapters
༓ chapter i —
"I lie to my heart 'cause I thought you felt it" [3.3k]
༓ chapter ii —
"You can't light a fire, if the candle's melted" [4.5k]
༓ chapter iii —
"No you don't have to love me"
༓ chapter iv —
"Don't act like I mean nothing"
༓ chapter v —
"Untake this heart"
no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton
#jungkook angst#jungkook smut#jungkook x reader#jungkook fanfic#jungkook imagine#taehyung fluff#taehyung smut#taehyung angst#bts x reader#bts fanfic#bts imagines#fic:guiltypleasures#kookslastbutton
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Offer
Summary: Din is absolutely sure that you know that he’s courting you. He wants to makes the offer formally anyways.
Pairing: Din Djarin x gn!Reader
Word Count: ~3.9k
Warnings: pining, absolute FOOLS in love, bit of grumpy x sunshine, Din thinking he's being so obvious while not showing a single emotion, self doubt and insecurity (Din), lil angst, probably incorrect lore, fluff, Mando'a (translations at the end)
A/N: This is the prequel to Significant! It's not necessary to read Significant first, though I do, of course, recommend it. You can read them in either order, or one and not the other. I hope you enjoy and please let me know what you think!
Din examines the blade closely, shifting it one way and then another.
The gleaming metal catches the light of the sun, reflecting back into the visor. He waits for a moment, until the clouds drifting through the sky obscure the rays again and he can more easily see the symbols engraved along the edge of it.
“So?” The man across from him asks. “Obviously it’s no beskar,” he says, eyeing Din when he glances up. “But good enough, I hope?”
“Beskar is not used for weapons,” he says. “Only for protection.” When the man bows his head in acknowledgement, Din slides the necessary credits across the table. “And the sheath?”
The credits are collected in gnarled hands before the smith slides the leather sheath across the table. It’s soft and well oiled. “Pleasure doing business with you, Mando,” he says, sitting back in his chair as Din stands. “I hope your, ah, partner, enjoys it.”
Din glances down at the blade and then back at the man. “It will be sufficient.”
He hopes so, at least.
The man is correct that it isn’t beskar, and so not as good of a gift as he could have hoped. But you are precariously and curiously weapon deficient for a person who’d spent years traveling the galaxy alone before joining him on the Crest.
Probably because you’re disarmingly charming. You can talk your way out of practically anything.
Din sticks the blade into its holster and then tucks it against his back, the cloak falling forward to conceal it. “Thank you.”
“Good luck,” his contact says, leaning back in his chair and folding his hands against his stomach.
The sun emerges from behind the clouds again as he searches the market for you and the child. It’s not a particularly dangerous planet, but you have a knack for trouble, not that you don’t also have a particular way of wriggling out of it.
He sighs when he rounds a corner and finds you chatting with two people at a stall selling food. You’re focused on the woman in front of you, actively listening even as your hand sneaks food to the little green hand that pops out of the woven bag at your hip every few seconds.
Din approaches and stops a few paces away, leaning against the corner of a wall and folding his hands in front of him to wait until you’re done.
He’s content enough to indulge you in this, to wait until you’re done chatting. Though, as he’s come to realize recently, he’s content to indulge you in most things. He sometimes feels guilty that you’re often trapped with only him and the child in the Crest for days on end when you so clearly enjoy talking with people. You’re outgoing and talkative to his stoic and reserved.
Your eyes flick to him, the grin on your face tugging a bit wider before you glance back to the people next to you. Though he would have waited there for you all day if that was what you required, he’ll be glad to have you back by his side.
As Din watches you say your goodbyes to your temporary friends, that word flits through his mind again.
Riduur.
Dangerous, hope laden.
He tramps the thought down as he always does, buries the possessive twinge that the word works through his heart.
You wave and turn away to approach him, your hand pushing back the blanket you’d layered over the top of the bag on your hip. To keep the sun off the baby, and keep prying eyes away from him.
Long green ears poke up above the rim of the bag, suspicious chewing sounds echoing from within.
“Find what you need?” You ask as Grogu finally pokes his head out, cooing up at him. Din settles a hand on the kid’s head for a moment before nodding at you.
You tip your head to the side. “Well, I think we’re all done. The baby might be hungry-,”
Grogu burps then, before he makes a sound that Din supposes must be a giggle. “I saw you feeding him,” he shares.
You huff, “Well, he’s always hungry. Besides, that was just a snack.”
Din doesn’t respond. A smile tugs at his mouth as you pass another neon blue cracker down to the little waiting hand from the sleeve of them inside the shopping bag on your shoulder. He waits until the cracker has been taken from your fingers before subtly offering his arm to you as you begin your trek back to the ship.
As always, a peel of anxiety settles in the pit of his gut as he waits for you to take it. And, as always, you take it without hesitation.
Your hand settles firm and warm in the crook of his elbow. You tighten your grip and lean into him and he’s left to wonder if it's conscious on your part, if you might be as drawn to him as he is to you.
Either way, your weight is comfortable against him, your hand warm. The scent of you drifts up to him, your soap mixed with market scents, ash from cookfires, sun warmed leather, the breath of this humid world’s sweet air.
There’s a curious hope that’s beginning to take shape in his chest. One that feels wrong almost, in its intensity.
This is not something he could have ever hoped for, should have ever hoped for.
And yet -
First, the kid.
Then you, tempering his initial meeting with Peli on Tatooine, protecting the child in his stead. He remembers Peli’s assurance when you accepted his offer to travel with him, of your penchant for job hopping. Never stays anywhere more than a couple months, had been her exact words, only been here a couple weeks. He had been assured that you’d be off on another adventure, with another person, on another world, within weeks.
And, at the time, he hadn’t needed anything more than that. Temporary help.
But years have passed, and you’re still by his side.
Or, rather, he’s still by your side. If you decided to suddenly remove yourself from the Crest, he’s not sure what he’d do. He’s not sure how they’d fill the hole you would leave behind.
You wouldn’t though. You are a part of the tiny clan he calls home.
It’s unthinkable, the prospect, the notion, of you leaving him, them.
What he intends to do next, then, is harder.
Offering you the blade is only the first step of many. It’s an overdue one. He should have presented you with a weapon of your own long ago. He should have given you a courting gift long ago. Before he kissed you, shared a bed with you, let your fingers trace over the planes of his face, even if your eyes remained firmly shut.
“So what did you need so urgently to pick up?” You ask as you emerge from the market and take a turn out of the center of the small town, still feeding pieces of the crackers to the child with your free hand.
The world is a lush one, verdant with green undergrowth and prone to bouts of driving rain and humidity. The sun is still working its way through the sky as you cross out of the village and into the surrounding forest.
“I never said it was urgent,” Din replies dryly, steadying you when you nearly trip over an exposed root.
You smile and squeeze his elbow in thanks. “And that did not answer my question.”
Din doesn’t answer immediately, instead watching the curve of your cheek, the way the sunlight catches in the feathering of your lashes.
Din is always glad of the helmet. It provides safety. It lets him uphold his creed. But he’s none more grateful for it than recently. It allows him to watch you without fear of being caught, with the knowledge that you can’t see the way you make him blush and smile.
“No,” he agrees.
You roll your eyes at him, nudging your shoulder into his. “Cryptic,” you hum, your voice amused.
When the ship comes into view, you release his arm and pull ahead of him. He automatically lowers the ship's ramp with the vambrace. You disappear inside the ship where he can hear you cooing to the child, banging around the hull as you settle in again and sort out whatever purchases you had made.
It’s an oddly domestic moment, considering everything about your circumstances together. He has no doubt you’re indulging Grogu in something else.
The dagger he means to give you weighs heavily against his spine, along with the pressure of the task he needs to complete, the offer he needs to make to you, officially.
His relationship with you is a strange one. It’s one that seems to have started at the end and gone backwards, one that circles itself and eats its own tail.
There are times he can’t imagine you not knowing that he intends you as his, and that he hopes that you feel the same. Like when he lies with you in the dark, helmet discarded somewhere near his feet, your careful hands tracing features you’ve never once asked to see.
Seeing your face with his naked eyes for the first time, your features for the first time not distorted by the visor, had nearly upended everything inside him. How trustingly you’d tipped your head into his hands, waiting patiently for him to tell you what to do, or make a move.
He could tell you felt no urge to open your eyes, no urge to take something from him he could never give you, not without making serious and lasting vows.
Riduurok. Marriage. More literally: a love bond.
Din longs to tell you to open your eyes in those moments, to let you see him as clearly as he sees you. Without any barriers.
He shouldn’t have been able to see you like that, shouldn’t have been able to kiss you, shouldn’t have been able to touch you, sleep with you in his arms.
He’s been lax, bending rules to the point of near breaking.
Which is both dishonorable and unfair to you. You’re worth more than broken rules and fumblings in the dark.
Still, he has to do something properly. And this is the thing he will do correctly, as is your right. As is his duty to you.
It’s what you deserve. A proper offer, proper courting. Not whatever he’s been playing at so far.
You are not Mandalorian, and you should also be afforded the chance to learn of his culture. To make a complete decision about him. Though he’s been teaching you some Mando’a phrases, you should see it all. Traditions and language and myths. To understand what you would be a part of.
You and Grogu both, if he’s honest with himself.
All he can do is lie everything at your feet and hope that he’s not found wanting.
Something seizes in his heart, because you could reject it. You could easily reject the formality of it, tell him it had never been that serious to begin with.
Din follows you into the Crest to find you patiently listening to the unintelligible chatter of the child. Wide brown eyes shift from you to him, tiny arms lifting. You smile and laugh, fidgeting with Grogu’s collar as Din shifts to lift him into his arms.
He should give you the blade now, make promises to prove himself to you as an ally and partner, as worthy of you, capable of protecting you and the clan. But you’re already turning away, chattering about a bolt of cloth you’d seen in the market that you want to go back for before you have to leave the planet.
“You should eat,” you remind him lightly, like he would forget if you didn’t tell him. Which, he supposes, is sometimes true. He forgets there’s more than ration packs to eat. “I’m going to shower.” You point to your bag, “Food for you.”
“Yes,” he agrees. Then hastily says, “Wait.” He steps forward and snags your wrist in his hand before you can go any further.
He shifts Grogu to the cradle of his other arm, nerves running up the inside of his skin. Cold sweat prickles at the back of his neck.
You turn and lift a questioning brow. Whatever he meant to say sticks in his throat and he can’t find the words to say what he needs to.
A smile plays around your lips. “You okay?”
His hand is still on your wrist and he hastily releases you. “Yes.”
“Okay,” you laugh. “So, what is it?”
Din swallows, unsure if he’s going about this the right way. He knows what he should do, but he’d never seen it done before. There were few couples among the covert, and there had been periods without any couples at all.
He’s never had to do it before, never had to declare himself quite like this. “Nothing, cyare. It can wait.”
You tilt your head. He can tell you’re amused.
Instead of teasing him, you lean forward and tug at the lip of his helm. “Cyare,” you coo back at him before releasing him and turning into the fresher.
There’s heat in his cheeks when the door slides closed.
“Mesh’la,” he hears you sing to yourself from within.
“It’s not really the same, is it?”
Din is only pretending to look at the stars that are scattered in the darkened sky above the Razor Crest. The faintest rays of sunlight can still be seen on the horizon. The sun never quite sets on this world, perpetually lit with just the barest brushes of light. Purple spills into midnight blue, the sun a smear of tangerine and honey.
He’s watching you from the corner of his eye. You’re lounging in the co-pilot’s chair, one hand braced on Grogu’s floating pod.
“You can’t see the stars properly with that light,” you grouse. “I always miss sleeping in hyperspace anyway.”
Din still doesn’t answer, watching the line of your throat, the shape of your curled legs, the shine of your eyes in the relative darkness. It's an imitation of the routine you have in hyperspace, watching the stars until you fall asleep, or until you’re ready to go to bed.
Your gaze shifts from the sky to him, your eyes abruptly meeting his. “Are you alright?” When he just tilts his head at you, you roll your eyes. “You’re quieter than usual. Which means you’ve been very, very silent all day. Since we got back from the market.”
“I enjoy listening to you,” he hedges.
“Is that so? What was I just talking about?”
“The stars,” he answers easily, not really entirely sure that’s true.
Your gaze narrows. “An easy guess.”
He chuckles lowly. “Then you should have picked a more difficult question, cyare.”
Your mouth pulls up into a smile. “So, what’s wrong?”
The worry that’s been gnawing a slow hole through his stomach all day beats back to life. It clenches his lungs in a tight fist that doesn’t compute.
Of all the things to give him pause. Of all the things to frighten him.
It had to be this.
This thing he has no experience of, no knowledge of, no one that he could have watched when he was younger to at least imitate.
His mind slides past the covert, all the way back to his mother and father. He remembers the gentle moments between them, the easy love, even in hard times, that should have lasted for decades.
That's how he feels with you. Like everything is easy.
Din swallows the image down, courage returning to him.
“Cyar’ika,” he answers, turning to face you directly. “I have something I’d like to give you.”
You perk up at that, straightening in your seat. “Oh? Is that what you were being mysterious about earlier?”
You’re smiling, the words a joke.
Din just nods, too nervous to attempt teasing you back, though it doesn’t show. He’s as still and silent as he always is. Instead he holds out a hand.
You readily stand, placing yourself between his legs, your fingers still on his.
He stares up at you, admiring the way those last dregs of light you complained of wash your skin in a low orange and pink haze. He must look at you for too long, because you suddenly jut out an impatient hip and fist your free hand on your waist, cocking an eyebrow at him.
Despite himself, he huffs out a laugh.
Din takes a steadying breath and reaches behind himself for the sheathed weapon at his back from beneath his cloak.
When he presents it to you, there isn’t a single word he can think to say. All those crashing thoughts of proving himself, of making vows to you someday and everyday in between, falls away, and he’s left adrift with nothing but the blade in his gloved hand.
He really isn’t even sure if he should say something. He’s not sure if it's normally done.
He looks from your face, down to the knife and back again.
A small frown has embedded itself on your face. You release his hand and reach out for it with both. Din hands it over carefully, watching you closely.
You pull the blade from the sheath slowly, eyes roving over the dark metal, the polished handle. You align your fingers over the grip before your lips part softly, brow scrunching. Din opens his mouth, but you shake your head, peering at the lettering along the side of the blade.
The language and script is foreign to you, he knows, etched in Mando’a.
“It’s beautiful, but I can’t accept this.” His heart plummets, the air around him seeming thicker than before, hard to breathe. It all seems like a terrible miscalculation all of a sudden. His fear had been that you might reject it, but a much worse worry swims to the front of his mind.
You could leave. If it offends you.
“Din, this must have cost so much - you have so many weapons I can borrow. I’m not a fighter. I don’t even carry-,” you break off and shake your head again. “It’s too much.”
Some of the tension in his chest releases.
Din covers your hand, stopping the motion of you sliding the dagger back into the leather. His shoulders loosen by a fraction more, his heart not galloping quite so hard. “Please accept this.” A note of desperation slips into his voice, which he makes no effort to clear away.
“I’m not a fighter, Din,” you repeat as your mouth pulls into a small smile. “It’s too much. It’s better with you, really.”
He frowns at you, tilting his head. “That is not the point, cyare.” Din cups his hand around yours and guides it to the grip of the knife. “The point is that it’s yours. That I am offering it to you.”
There are other things he should say to you, other promises he should make, he knows that, but he can’t bring himself to speak them. “It is yours,” he repeats. “As you are owed”
You tilt your head and consider the blade again, pulling it slowly from the holster. “Owed,” you echo, a thread of confusion still laced in your voice, a question mark perched on the tip of your tongue. “But it is beautiful,” you say again, more confidently this time, turning it in your grip.
He relaxes a little more when you seem to understand its meaning.
“But the cost-,”
He almost scoffs. He’s offering you his heart and you are worried about the cost.
“It’s nothing. The smith owed me a favor,” Din says, watching as the smile on your face grows into something genuine.
Unlike yourself, almost shyly, you ask, “It’s really mine?”
He gives a simple nod of his head. “You’re proficient with knives,” he attempts to explain his choice. In a perfect world, he would have gifted you something cast from beskar. A piece of armor. But, the world wouldn’t be perfect then, you would be a very different person if you were one to wear armor as he does.
“I had a good teacher,” you tease. “Thank you. You…didn’t have to go through all this though.” You peer at him from beneath your lashes.
Din doesn’t answer, a smile easing onto his own face. He feels lighter, now. “What is this?” You point to the letters engraved on the blade. “I’ve never seen this script before.”
“Take a guess, cyare.”
You blink at him. “It’s not Mando’a is it?” You ask excitedly.
“It is.”
“Well,” you say impatiently, lifting the metal closer to your face. “What does it say?”
He huffs a small laugh at your demanding tone.
“Kar'taylir darasuum,” he says, taking your hand to lower the blade a fraction, pointing to each word as he speaks it. “To hold in the heart.”
To hold in the heart forever, he should say. He should tell you that its literal equivalent in Basic is essentially to love.
He doesn’t, his coward’s heart in this thing alone rising up again.
You blink at him, a strange expression pulling over your features before you seem to shake the thought away.
“Say it again,” you request.
He repeats the words slowly, and you sound them out after him. You smile widely when he says, “Your accent is good.”
“Thank you, Din,” you say, finally sliding the blade back into its sheath. His eyes flash up to yours when you press your free hand to the slide of his helmet. He doesn't blink, can't even draw a breath as you tilt his head up and bring your forehead to his in a gentle tap.
You rest like that for a moment, eyes fluttering closed, before you abruptly pull away.
He's done so much with you, seen more of you than he should have, but nothing rivals that moment, the kiss of your forehead to his.
“We should probably take the little one to bed, don’t you think?” You straighten and drop your hand. “I won’t sleep up here tonight,” you point to the sun.
Din stands, presses a hand to your back. He’s more than happy to follow you down into the dark hull. Once the baby is settled and you’re pressed together, he removes his helmet and kisses you, first your closed eyelids, a thank you for something he isn’t sure he deserves.
He wonders for just a moment, when you grin against his mouth, if you understand what just happened.
But he pushes the thought away.
There’s no way such a gift could be interpreted any other way.
This is the beginning of him doing something right. He’ll teach you more Mando’a, he’ll share the myths held sacred by his people, he’ll remove his armor before you.
He would lie all at your feet and hope that it might be enough.
One day, he might actually be able to call you what he has trouble reminding himself you aren’t already.
Riduur.
You’re molded to him in the dark, and the promise is more than enough for now.
There's no way you don't know what it all means.
Thank you for reading! Please let me know your thoughts!
Translations:
Riduur - spouse, partner, wife, husband
Cyare - beloved
Cyar'ika - darling, sweetheart
4K notes
·
View notes
Text
What if...?
A silly way of Solomon's devotion. Where was this at the start of the game? I'm not so sure. Although, I'd love to expound on this idea — atleast, for the purposes of a trope I come to love. Let's call this: "Tell me please, why can't I?"
♡.. Imagine a time where it began as the other way around: MC pining after Solomon. Had the human exchange student crave for human interaction in the literal incarnate of Hell? Go figured, it's in their nature. Of course they'd cling to him. Who else was the safest option?
♡.. Many moments pass and MC connects to Solomon like a missing thread. MC is his constant reminder of his lingering humanity, no matter how far gone he thought he was. Seeing the MC talk more about the Human realm: friends, family, places and even the most mundane things like ignoring stupid injuries, or multitasking on errands— it's almost nostalgic despite the many years the sorcerer had lived.
♡.. When MC finally builds up the courage to finally confess to Solomon, he was... shocked? Humanity was an odd topic; anthropology explaining the details of this race to a T. Solomon at this time thought that MC might as well have fallen for the demons. Like the toy they all were.
♡.. And what did he say? What did he say that determined the course of their relationship?
— "It'll pass."
♡.. He had an advantage. He was supposed to be able to become the first to MC's heart — the advantage of both being human. He and MC getting together causes the least amount of issues, but what did he do? He let them be. Let them bond with the brothers. With the others.
♡.. He only viewed them as a pawn in this endless game of life.
♡.. After that as some time came by, their relationship seemed to have continued on as normal. One might say that he and the MC had developed a friendship of sorts. This bond strengthened further when he sees them alone at the school dance — "shall we lonely singles dance together?"
♡.. That's how it should've stayed. His heart shouldn't have had a mind of his own. At night, he couldn't help but recall all their moments spent together. Solomon could no longer count the days he imagined their smile, their laughter, all that made them human...
♡.. As soon as he felt that spark — like a truck ran over him in his deepest nightmares, he realized: "oh fuck..." the platinum blonde muttered in cold sweat, panting as his mind continues to wander. He's awake. He is awake. But is he? Why is it that he's stuck in this dream?
♡.. Like a demon, Solomon felt tempted. Although, isn't that just human nature? — "what have you done to me?"
♡.. Now he knew how MC felt. And even if they was an attempt at the confession, MC's options were limited.
— "I love you like no other. Please, I... I don't want to lose you."
♡.. So they picked the least broken of the bunch.
— "I'll learn how to love you again."
♡.. It was a sentence of bliss, but to the sorcerer, he lost. Which is why when they were given the opportunity to go to the past, Solomon got to spend every moment with MC.
Every moment to enter their heart again.
To quote: "The whisper of love in the morning. Do you hear it? It's beating for you loudly."
Ah yes Solomon, aka mister "shady sorcerer who can't cook" but also "I lost my chance and now I'm taking it again." Inspired by the "fell first, didn't fell" and "fell later, fell harder" dynamic. I was inspired by how domestic Solomon acts towards MC in NB — like they were a married couple. As much as I love the demon brothers, this one got my heart... Again, just a "what if," takes inspiration from canon but I tend to deviate a LOT if that makes sense ;v;
Anyhow, have a nice day~! Tell me what you think of this scenario? Let me know your thoughts! 🫶
#obey me shall we date#obey me nightbringer#obey me#obey me!#obey me solomon#canon x reader#solomon x reader#solomon x mc#obey me solomon x reader#what if#ideas#fanfic ideas#fell first fell harder#he's so devoted in the game PLEASE#to win them over#fluff? angst??? a guilty pleasure
108 notes
·
View notes
Note
would you be in the mood to write something for peter parker x reader?? it’s been a while since i’ve read anything new for him and i’m missing my boy :( maybe something about things getting heated while making out with peter but he knows reader isn’t ready to go any farther so he has to stop them, and then maybe reader feels guilty for not being ready bc they feel like they’re stringing him along? a good mix of (semi)smut & fluff & angst haha. thank u angel i love u <3
ty for requesting, love u <3 fem!reader, 1k
cw suggestive content
“Is that okay?” he whispers.
You’re nearly too busy trying to kiss him to whisper back. “Yeah, Peter, just–” Fully too busy.
Peter enjoys being on top of you for two reasons; the first, the most imperative in the moment, is because it flicks a switch in your mind that has you all flustered and breathless under his touch, your chest heaving something sorry and your hands a frenetic back-and-forth between roaming and limp on his back; and the second, his guilty pleasure, is that he’s in an optimal position to slide his knee between your thighs and listen for your breathless sigh.
He says your name between kisses to catch your attention, finds he can’t quite get it as your mouth closes up on his and your spit wets his lips. Your hand wanders under his shirt.
Peter has been worse than shirtless around you, a consequence of his strange after-classes hobby, but he’s not so sure you’re ready to peel him out of it. Your fingers ride up his spine.
He fishes your hand from behind him to hold it above your head.
“Hey,” he says, pulling back, your eyes lit and aligned with one another, the brightest light in the room. It feels wrong to speak into the dark like this, disrupting your whispers and your quick breathing. “You don’t wanna do that.”
“I do,” you say. He’s no genius, but he sees the wobble of your lashes for what it is, sudden regret.
“It’s okay, bub. We got too heavy too fast,” he laughs.
You bite the inside of your lip as he sits up. It’s his fault, he shouldn’t have kissed you like that, definitely shouldn’t have let his leg slide up against you, what was he thinking? He’s kissed you so hard your lips are swollen.
You use the flats of your palms to clamber up against the headboard. Your heart is a thudding he can’t ignore, triply loud, and his own pulse is rocketing too.
“I’m sorry,” you say.
“No, that’s okay,” —he reaches for the hem of your sweatpants to tug them back over your hip and stomach— “I was bearing down on you, I shouldn’t have– I–” Peter Parker levels of stuttering occur, to which he can’t subject himself, hiding his face in his hands.
There’s a small silence. Peter attempts to calm down. Your heart rate slowly drops.
“I really am sorry, Pete.”
His neck cricks as he lifts his head. “What?” He lets his legs fall to the side of the bed and shuffles up to the top to see you clearly, squishing the back of your thigh where your legs are up to his hip. “Come on, what do you have to be sorry for?”
“I’m leading you on and stuff. Not cool.”
“What? What are you talking about? I started it.”
“I was giving it just as good as I was getting it,” you say with a regretful smile. “You’re just such a great kisser–”
“Don’t try and distract me, it’s working,” he teases. More seriously, he puts his hand on your knee, thumb pressing to the soft crease underneath it.
“I shouldn’t kiss you like that if I’m not ready for it.”
“Why not? You can kiss me whatever way you like, it doesn’t have to lead to anything.”
“I’m winding you up. Boys don’t like that.”
“I love it,” he says, dropping his chin to his hand to speak to you from just below your eye line. “I love everything you do, I love kissing you, it doesn’t mean you have to be ready for something else.”
You don’t accept his reassurances as quickly as he’d like, leaning back, the rising valley of your chest and tummy two pretty not to look at even as something serious transpires. He adores you, your every hill and curve and rigid line, all of it, and he’d love to fuck you but there’s no rush. What do you need to rush for? Peter’s sure it’ll be just as much fun a few months down the line as it would’ve been tonight, but it’ll be perfect then, because you’ll be ready then.
“Who cares what boys like anyways?” he mumbles, kissing your kneecap appreciatively.
“I just don’t wanna mess it up, Pete. I really like you.”
“You can’t mess it up, it’s not like that, we’re not like that. You mean a whole lot more to me than that,” he says, giving your thigh a squeeze. You meet his eyes with less shyness now, the beginnings of a smile like twitches at the corners of your mouth. “I like you more than you like me, anyways. You can string me along. String me up, if you want.”
“String you up where?” you ask with a laugh.
“From that statue on ESU?”
“What? How would I do that?”
“Get Spider-Man to help you.”
You pull the leg he isn’t leaning on up toward your stomach, knee rubbing along the inside of your opposite thigh, the last trace of regret. “You’re sure you don’t care?”
“Don’t care, don’t mind, just want you to be happy.” He kisses your knee. “I thought you’d know that by now.”
You brace your face in both hands, letting out a long sigh. “I don’t know what I know when you do that thing to me. How about you keep your legs away from my legs for a little while?”
Peter smiles like an idiot, hiding his eyes in your knee and his mouth behind your calf. He doesn’t mind being honest, but you’re making him nervous flirting like that and he isn’t allowed to kiss you again tonight. “I– I can do that. No leg stuff.” He leans away from you suddenly. “God, no leg stuff. You’re beautiful, I wish you didn’t worry about me.”
“I’ll try not to, Pete.”
#tasm peter parker#tasm peter x reader#tasm peter parker imagine#tasm peter parker x you#tasm peter parker x reader#tasm x reader#peter parker x reader#tasm!spiderman x reader#tasm!peter x reader#tasm!peter imagine#tasm!peter parker#tasm!peter parker x reader#tasm! peter parker x reader#spiderman x reader#peter parker oneshot#peter parker blurb#peter parker imagine#peter parker x you#peter parker x y/n#spiderman x you#spiderman fanfiction
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Guilty
pairing; kwon soonyoung x f reader / lee jihoon x f reader
genre; smut (minors dni), angst, toxic, fluff
summary; you and soonyoung learn that the storm can only be weathered for so long before you need a lift raft to hold on to. but what happens when neither of you reach for each other in that storm?
warnings; cheating, toxic relationship dynamics, car accident, injuries, hospital, arguing, eating/drinking, pet names, crying (from pleasure and sadness), unprotected sex, oral (m & f receiving/giving), fingering, marking/biting, impact, dom!jihoon, dirty talk, less than ideal sexual experiences, i mean...there is just a lot -- i probably missed something.
w/c; 23.6k
a/n; thank you so so much to my @onlyhuis for proofreading and being my rock while i wrote this bitch. this one was out of my comfort zone but i really wanted to try to dive into angst and something a bit more toxic with my plot. i hope you enjoy it.
before continuing remember reblogs are incredibly important and please read how to support me here
3 missed calls from Soonyoung❣️
Rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, you sigh at the notification on your lock screen, thinking about the number of times you had tried to call him the day before only to get his voicemail. You think about the number of text messages that you have sent as you unlock your screen, looking at the four messages waiting for you.
When Soonyoung told you about his job opportunity, you were excited for him. Dancing was his life and his biggest passion, with teaching coming in as a close second. The main drawback of the job offer was that he would be gone for a year and be in another country.
Promises had been made to one another in an attempt to make the distance easier. You both promised to visit when you could and to keep in touch every single day. Things were easier said than done, it would seem.
Soonyoung ❣️: I got in late.
Soonyoung ❣️: I know you are going to be mad at me.
Soonyoung ❣️: Call me when you wake up
Soonyoung ❣️: Love you
You sigh, laying your phone down next to you after reading over the messages. Lately, they were all starting to look the same. There was always a “I got in late” message waiting for you and a “call me when you wake up" message waiting for you after a day of trying to keep in touch on your part. You knew he was working hard, but so were you.
Sliding out of bed, your phone in tow, you leave it on the counter as you turn on the shower, letting the bathroom fill up with steam. It wasn’t like Soonyoung would know the exact moment you woke up anyway. He barely remembered the local time anymore, much less your schedule. He had made you wait. Now he could wait.
Soonyoung knew he should be asleep. He had to wake up early to get to the studio but he was staring at his phone and hoping you would call him. He had checked the time back home at least five times and it was a Tuesday, which meant you had to get ready for work soon.
Sighing loudly, Soonyoung scrolls back through the text messages that he had missed from you throughout the day. He hadn’t meant to ignore you; he never did. Time wasn’t his greatest ally lately and long days had turned into even longer nights.
Y/N 😘: Hope you are having a good day babe
Y/N 😘: Missing you
Y/N 😘: Hope class has gone well. You are amazing ❣️
Y/N 😘: I’m going to bed
Y/N 😘: Hope I get to talk to you tomorrow. I love you
Kicking his legs out from under the covers, Soonyoung knocks his head back against the headboard. He groans under his breath as he gives in to his impatience, pressing down on your name and placing the phone up to his ear to listen to it ring. One ring, two rings, a third, and then your sweet voice tells him that you can’t come to the phone. Were you ignoring him?
The sound of your ringtone makes you furrow your brows, your eyes closed, as water runs down your face towards your lips. You were almost done with your shower but you were almost certain you weren’t hearing things, especially when your phone rings for a second time. Wiping the water from your face, you rush to get out of the shower, wrapping a towel around you, just as the second call from Soonyoung goes unanswered.
He had begun to turn over, a scowl on his face, when his phone lit up with a picture of your face. Staring at his phone for a few seconds, Soonyoung presses his tongue against his cheek before finally answering.
“Hello?”
You could hear the disappointment in Soonyoung’s voice and for a split second, you felt a pang of guilt. You forget about the number of calls that went unanswered the day before as you lean against the counter with a frown on your face.
“Hey, sorry, I was in the shower.”
Shrugging, Soonyoung also seems to forget how bad he felt about missing your calls and not responding to your text until late. Instead, he just thinks about himself and what he is feeling at the moment: frustration.
“Yeah, well, I asked for you to call me when you woke up, but I guess you didn’t check your phone.”
Looking down as water drips onto the tile, you feel Soonyoung’s words eat at your heart until you remember waking up and seeing your own messages from the day before. You remember listening to his voicemail time and time again, as you hoped he would pick up the phone even for a moment to say something to you.
“I did check it.”
Furrowing his brows, Soonyoung is taken aback by your sudden shift in attitude towards him. He had expected an apology and maybe your sweet, comforting voice to lull him to sleep but clearly that wasn’t happening.
“Oh? So you chose to ignore my messages and calls?”
“Like you chose to ignore mine, Soonyoung? Seriously…”
Your voice trails off as tears begin to well up in your eyes. There had been too many days recently that had started much like this one. You wanted to talk to your boyfriend and tell him how much you missed him, how much you loved him, and how proud of him you were that he was living his dream, but instead the two of you ended up in an argument.
Swallowing hard, Soonyoung closes his eyes as he sits up in his bed, running his fingers through his hair and listening to the sounds of your breath through the phone. He could tell you were crying. He had heard it enough times over the phone at this point to know exactly what it sounded like.
Now he was remembering seeing his phone light up throughout the day and checking it to see another missed call or text message from you. He remembered promising himself to call you back on the next break, only to get into a conversation with someone and lose track of time.
Shaking his head, Soonyoung hears a soft sob over the phone as he looks out of his window at the dark skyline of the city, knowing the sun was still rising where you were. He would give anything to be there with you now, to be able to hold you and to make this better but instead he was on the other side of the world and it felt like he might as well be on another planet.
“I’m sorry, baby. I–look, I don’t know what is wrong with me. It was a long day and when you didn’t answer my brain, just–” Shaking his head, Soonyoung stops to take a breath, deciding to stop giving you excuses. “I’m so fucking sorry. I love you so much.”
This was the part when you would normally fold and tell him how much you loved him and forgive him. You always forgave Soonyoung because he was working so hard and you knew it was important but you were starting to feel like you were less important. Wiping your cheek with your free hand, you shake your head and bite at your bottom lip as Soonyoung whines your name when you don’t speak to him right away.
“I have to get ready for work. I love you too. I hope you get some sleep.”
Closing his eyes, Soonyoung lets out a breath, feeling his heart sink at your words. You hadn’t accepted his apology and you hadn’t wanted to hear his excuses. You just wanted off the phone, and at this point, he couldn’t blame you.
“I–yeah, sure. Have a good day, babe.”
The sound of the call ending before you even say goodbye is what stuns Soonyoung the most. Dropping the phone into his lap, he stares at it for a moment, your picture looking at him from his lockscreen before the display goes dark.
Jihoon: Pizza?
You hadn’t been home long when the sound of a text message drew your attention to your phone. In truth, you had been avoiding your phone for most of the afternoon, knowing that Soonyoung was awake and at work. He had already been trying to make up for the day before by overcompensating and there was only so much that you could handle.
Seeing the text message from his best friend, however, was a welcomed change. You knew there was a reason behind it. When you hadn’t answered him, Soonyoung had probably called Jihoon and begged him to check in on you, like he had started to do more often, but you didn’t mind it.
Y/N: Only if you bring ice cream too.
Jihoon smirks a bit to himself after seeing your response. He knew you would agree to dinner and he had a good idea that you’d want ice cream after the conversation he had had with Soonyoung about an hour prior. He knew that you two had gotten into an argument. That had started to become a routine and now this was becoming his; dinner and a dessert for you.
You had always gotten along with your boyfriend’s best friend but since Soonyoung had taken the job and been gone for so long, Jihoon had become a rock in your life. You had become increasingly grateful to him, even if it was Soonyoung’s idea that he kept showing up with food and to be a shoulder to cry on.
Offering you a half smile, Jihoon lifts the bag with the ice cream with one hand as he holds the pizza box with the other when you open the door. Your smile causes him to take a breath and for his smile to become a full one when you take the bag from him, ushering him inside.
While Jihoon was happy to do this for you and Soonyoung, there was a part of him that found this more difficult every time. He was starting to love seeing that look on your face when you saw him—the way he could make your face light back up.
“Come in. Sorry…the place is a wreck and I already changed into my pajamas. I literally can’t find a fuck to give today.”
Moving into your place with you, Jihoon’s eyes move over your back and down your legs, just under your shorts, before he pulls them away out of respect with a sharp breath. Shaking his head, he looks around with a shrug before setting down the pizza on the coffee table as you move into the kitchen to put the ice cream in the freezer.
“Your place looks lived in, Y/N, and you look fine. Making me wish I was in my pajamas, or that I looked half as good in mine.”
Closing the door to your freezer, you pause at Jihoon’s compliment, feeling your cheeks starting to heat up. You didn’t mind it—the feeling of someone telling you that you looked good. It had been so long since Soonyoung had been home that you forgot what it was like to have someone compliment you like that, even if it was something so innocent.
Jihoon curses himself under his breath, sitting down on your couch, at his forwardness. He never wanted to really cross a line. He knew who you were and he knew who he was; just lately, it was getting harder to really remember it.
“Thanks, Jihoon, I’m sure you look very cute in your pajamas. Ya know, for the record.”
You smile at Jihoon and he has to look down at his hands as he chuckles, trying to play off your words as if they don’t have any effect on him. He knew you weren’t actually flirting with him; that was a ridiculous passing thought in his mind, but god, sometimes he wished you weren’t Soonyoung’s. The moment the thought even comes to him, Jihoon clenches his fists and then stretches out his fingers to distract himself from it.
“Mm, how was your day?” Swallowing hard, Jihoon glances up at you as he opens the top of the pizza box, gesturing towards it as you move around to sit next to him, closer than you had on other nights. “Eat. Don't let it get cold.”
Taking a slice of the pizza, you pout at it before taking a small bite, letting the warmth of food and good company wash over you. You had heard Jihoon’s question, but it was a loaded one. Sighing, you furrow your brows as Jihoon swallows his own bite of pizza, glancing over at you with a concerned look on his face.
“It was a bad one, Jihoon. I know that wasn’t really your question, but I’m not stupid. I know he called you and asked you to come over.”
You shake your head and put your pizza back into the box. Jihoon frowns and does the same, watching pensively as you wipe your fingers on the end of your nightshirt, unwilling to put effort into getting up to get a napkin.
“I–well yeah, he did, but I wanted to bring you some dinner. We could talk about it, you know if you want to.”
Jihoon watches as you furrow your brows and lean back on the couch, pulling your legs up under you. It hadn’t been his intention to upset you or bring up the argument; he had wanted to help distract you, but maybe you did need to get through this before you could move on with your night.
Glancing at your phone as it lights up again with another text message from Soonyoung, you shrug hearing Jihoon’s phone go off a moment later.
“It’s just really funny to me that he can ignore me all day and then act like I am supposed to be at his beck and call.” You swallow back your tears as you look down at your hands, pushing the ring on your index finger around so that the stone is facing your palm. “I love him, Jihoon, but right now I can’t stand him. I feel like I don’t know who he is anymore. I don’t know the person I talked to this morning.”
Jihoon fights the urge to look at his phone, feeling it go off again in his jacket pocket. Instead, he listens to you intently as he sees the tears rising in your eyes. His eyes fall to the ring on your finger and he remembers helping Soonyoung pick it out before he left for Tokyo and how he had suggested the cut of the stone.
Swallowing hard, Jihoon shifts on the couch to face you. He keeps his hands to himself, trying to be as respectful as possible, although all he wants to do is offer you more comfort when he sees the first tear trail down your cheek.
“Look, I could go the best friend route and give you the excuses but I’m not going to do it. I know he’s busy but I’m also not there.” Meeting your eyes, Jihoon tightens his hand on his knee, listening to you sniffle back your tears as he tilts his head. “I know he cares about you, he told me today. If I could make this better, Y/N, I would.”
Those weren’t the exact words that Jihoon had meant to use, but those were the words that had come out of his mouth. They weren’t a lie, because if there was a way that he could make it better for you, he would. If there was a way that Jihoon could make you happy, he would. Seeing you cry and upset was breaking his heart in ways that he couldn’t even explain or justify.
You can’t help but let out an unamused laugh under your breath at Jihoon's words. not for everything, because you knew he was trying to help, but you couldn't help but be cynical about the whole situation. Fingers wrapping around yours as tears drip from your cheeks is what breaks you and you finally meet Jihoon’s eyes once again.
“Nothing can make this better. I’m completely alone.”
Holding your hand tighter, Jihoon sighs, sliding even closer to you before lifting your hand to show yours in his as he shakes his head.
“You aren’t. I’m right here.”
Your eyes slowly move over his fingers, delicately holding yours, and more tears fall from your eyes as you try to work through how it makes you feel. It’s overwhelming to have someone right beside you, their skin against yours, their eyes on you. The feeling makes you want more and you feel selfish but it’s a moment of weakness.
Sliding on the couch, you move against Jihoon so that your cheek ends up against his chest. A surprised breath escapes from his lips before he finally moves to wrap his arms around you, holding you to him like you want him to. He can feel the tears starting to soak through his shirt but he can’t seem to find a reason to care as your fingers cling to his jacket and you sob quietly.
Jihoon had hugged you before, but this was more than a hug. This was almost intimate as the moments passed and you started to calm down, only to stay in his arms even as he shifted to lay down on the couch, letting you rest on top of him.
Lifting a shaky hand, Jihoon carefully ran it over your head, listening to you whine softly and he wondered if you had fallen asleep. He knew he had overstayed his welcome and he knew he should leave but that would mean he would have to tell you to move and that would mean he wouldn’t have you in his arms. He was selfish. What would Soonyoung do if he walked in the door right now?
Pushing the thought of his best friend from his mind, Jihoon closes his eyes when you shift against him and you mutter his name, wrapping your fingers around his shirt and holding him to you. Your lips smack cutely and a soft snore tells Jihoon that you have in fact fallen asleep. Any plan to wake you at that point leaves him with the sound of his name on your tired lips.
By the time you wake up Jihoon is gone and you have been placed in your bed. Furrowing your brows, you look around your dark room, confused, before glancing towards your nightstand to see where your phone is plugged up. He had done so much while you slept and not even woke you to say goodbye.
Picking up your phone, you wince at the brightness of the screen, only to frown at the number of missed calls and text messages from Soonyoung. You were starting to feel bad for ignoring him the entire day and it didn’t help that you were missing his voice. You start to click on his name to read over the messages when two from Jihoon make you pause and check them first.
Jihoon: I hope you don’t get upset that I put you in your bed. The couch is comfortable but your bed looked better
Jihoon: I’m sorry if I overstepped tonight. Just can’t let you cry like that
Furrowing your brows, you swallow hard, thinking back to how it felt to be held and how safe you felt— even for just a little while.
Y/N: You don’t have anything to apologize for. Thank you for dealing with my bullshit. Sleep well, Hoonie
You wait for a moment, hoping that Jihoon will write you back, but it was asking a lot for him to be awake at 1:26 am. Soonyoung, on the other hand, would be well into his work day. Scrolling over to the clock you have set for his timezone, you let out a slow exhale, reading 5:26 pm, before checking your messages from him.
Soonyoung ❣️: I love you so much
Soonyoung ❣️: Please don’t ignore me
Soonyoung ❣️: I’m going to work but I’ll keep my phone ringer on
Soonyoung ❣️: Could you please answer your phone
Soonyoung ❣️: Don’t you think this is a little childish?
Soonyoung ❣️: I’m sorry. Did Jihoon bring over some food?
Soonyoung ❣️: I’m assuming you fell asleep. Really fucking wish you would have talked to me today. Don’t really think I deserved the silent treatment. It hurts, Y/N…
His messages had ranged from hurt to angry and everything in between, and now you were feeling the same as tears gathered in your eyes once again. Two of his messages, in particular, sticking out and making your heart tighten to the point where your stomach felt queasy. ‘Don’t you think this is a little childish?’ and ‘It hurts, Y/N…’ He had no idea how much it hurt you.
Wiping your cheeks, you tap his name on your phone with more force than is necessary, putting it to your ear as you pull your knees towards your stomach. It only takes two rings before Soonyoung picks up, sounding out of breath.
“Hello?”
In truth, Soonyoung had started to give up hope that you were going to call him but he hadn’t lied when he told you that he kept his ringer on. Hearing it ring, he had immediately sent everyone on a five minute break and answered you, leaning over to rest his free hand on his thigh, trying to catch his breath.
“Hi.”
He had hoped for more than that but he’d take what he could get right now. Your voice brings a smile to his face as Soonyoung reaches for his water bottle, taking a sip. Sliding down the mirrored wall, he leans his head back against it and sighs into the phone, finally feeling a bit less stressed.
“I’m glad you called, babe. I can’t stay on the phone long, but I’d like to —”
“It’s whatever…”
Taking a deep breath at your interruption, Soonyoung closes his eyes because he can hear the tears in your voice.
“I mean, no, it’s not. If you’d let me finish? Fuck, Y/N… First, you ignored me all damn day and now I can’t —”
Biting his bottom lip, Soonyoung stops himself hearing you take a sharp breath. He had started to go off on you but he knew it was because he was wound up. Yes he was upset at you but now wasn’t the time to fight.
“Baby…I was going to say that even though I can’t talk long right now, I’d like to talk soon. I wanna really talk. Maybe we could facetime? I wanna see your pretty face.”
Soonyoung was giving you whiplash and it was almost too much to handle. You loved him so much but it was hard to go from one extreme to another with no way to touch him or to have his arms around you.
“I’m just really tired, Soonie. Can I just go to bed?”
You weren’t lying. You were exhausted mentally, emotionally, and physically. His words were like rocks being added to a growing pile in your arms, pushing you deeper and deeper into a pit that you weren’t sure how to climb out of.
Pinching the bridge of his nose, Soonyoung knocks his head back against the mirror at your request while you also leave his question up in the air. He wasn’t sure how late it was for you but he had to assume it was late and he could hear the exhaustion and emotion in your voice.
“Yeah…course, babe. I love you.”
Looking out into your moonlit room, you find yourself staring at the picture of you and Soonyoung on your dresser with little to no emotion as you speak before hanging up your phone.
“Love you too, bye.”
Soonyoung had heard you say that you loved him hundreds, possibly thousands, of times over the span of your relationship and he had never heard it sound like that. He had never heard it said in such a way that it almost broke his heart. Letting out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding, Soonyoung looks up when the pretty girl speaks to him again, a concerned look on her face.
“You ok, Soonyoung?”
Nodding, he puts on a smile and moves to his feet, causing her to take a step back to watch him as he puts his phone on silent.
“Course I am, Aimi. Once everyone is back, we can run it from the chorus again.”
Aimi grins at Soonyoung and his smile becomes genuine as he watches her take a step backwards on the wood floor.
“‘Kay…hey, you wanna get drinks later?”
When Soonyoung looks confused, Aimi laughs and lifts her hands, biting at her pretty lips that he can’t help but look at.
“With me and a few of the dance team, of course.”
Shrugging, Soonyoung glances down at his phone, tossing it up in the air and catching it before putting it on the table next to his water bottle. What could it hurt? Drinks with a few of his students, especially when the view would be nice for just a little while. Offering Aimi a grin, Sonyoung nods before leaning to pick up a towel and putting it around his neck as he watches him carefully, her eyes carefully moving over his exposed arms before moving back to his face.
“Sure, sounds like fun.”
“She just doesn’t answer my calls much anymore. I dunno what the fuck I’m supposed to do, man.”
Soonyoung sighs, using his shoulder to keep his phone against his ear as he pulls his jacket from the closet, causing the unused hangers to clang together. On the other side of the phone, Jihoon leans back in his chair, rocking his head side to side to move his blond bangs out of his eyes. He lets out a breath as he pushes his mouse across his computer screen and dragging levels up and down in the music editing program by eye and muscle memory.
“I don’t know. It’s not my place to —”
“Couldn’t you just... I dunno, talk to her? Get her to listen to reason? You are so good at that.”
Leaning his head back, Jihoon rolls his eyes as he pushes the mouse away from him out of annoyance. This wasn’t his job and he didn’t want to lie to you or tell you that it would all get better when clearly there was something going on that he couldn’t fix.
“I’m not a fucking relationship therapist, Soonyoung.”
Swallowing hard, Soonyoung stops just outside of his temporary apartment, hearing the anger in Jihoon’s voice. That hadn’t been the intention; he just wanted someone at bat for him, someone at home, to be in his corner for once.
“I’m sorry, man... I’m not saying that. You’ve been nothing but helpful. You know, taking Y/N meals and watching out for her... I really appreciate it.”
All of the things that Soonyoung was bringing up were things that Jihoon was happy to do for you. Maybe at first they were a little tedious but as time had gone by, days had turned to weeks, and weeks now to months—they were part of his life as much as you were.
“It’s fine. Uh… Look, okay? I’ll try to talk to Y/N and see if I can get her to give you a call when I take her something to eat tonight.”
The sounds of traffic make Soonyoung wonder if he had heard Jihoon wrong but he knew he hadn’t. Rubbing his lips together, Soonyoung nods as he furrows his brows, a bit of strain evident in his voice.
“You’re gonna take her something to eat again tonight? Is that like, a common thing now? I just—yeah, I dunno, I figured it was every once in a while.”
Shifting in his chair, Jihoon feels the apprehension in Soonyoung’s words. He knew that he should feel bad for how often he was spending time at your place but after holding you as you cried yourself to sleep, Jihoon couldn’t.
“It’s pretty often. She’s lonely, Soonyoung. You are on the other side of the world. You’re the one who asked me to do it in the first place.”
Soonyoung could feel the way his stomach was twisting with jealousy and something else he couldn’t quite name. Jihoon wasn’t wrong; he had asked him to do it, but he didn’t think he would be spending so many evenings hanging out with his girlfriend. He also didn’t really need his best friend to remind him of the distance between him and his girlfriend. The distance was very apparent and it was eating him alive.
“Yeah, I know I did. I don’t need you to tell me how lonely she is. I’m fucking lonely too.” With his feet hitting the steps to the studio hard as he pouts into his words, “I wish I was at home. I wish I had never fuckin’ taken this job.”
Running his fingers over his hair, Jihoon can’t help the way Soonyoung’s words hit him and made him feel bad for a split second. He couldn’t really understand the pain that his friend was feeling but it was obvious that he was suffering. Being with you almost every day, Jihoon saw your pain but today was the first time he had really heard Soonyoung’s, and even so, it didn’t make up for your tears.
“Then maybe you should fucking tell her that.”
You were pouting into your pint of ice cream as Jihoon watched you, finishing the last of his pasta. He had already tried to give you the “but Soonyoung just wants to talk to you; maybe you should call him tonight” talk and now you were being quiet. It wasn’t like you hadn’t sent Soonyoung texts throughout the day; you just hadn’t answered his phone calls or made any special effort to call him like you normally would.
“The ice cream was meant to cheer you up.”
Lifting your eyes to Jihoon, you stab your spoon into your softening ice cream, making him wince at the sudden action. Clearly, you were upset at him, though he wasn’t sure that was entirely fair. He had just done what Soonyoung had asked of him and now it was biting him in the ass.
Sighing, Jihoon puts his plate down on the coffee table before leaning forward to lift his hands as if to say he is surrendering. This wasn’t how he wanted to spend the evening with you. He enjoyed the evenings when the two of you would sit close on the couch. You’d turn on one of your silly trash reality shows and he’d let you try to explain who was fucking who and who was cheating on who. In reality, he was just enjoying your company—more than he should.
“I’m sorry. I promised Soonyoung that I would try to put in a good word for him, but I can’t stand the idea that you might spoon me to death like your ice cream.”
You wanted to stay mad at Jihoon, but he made it difficult. You had started to trust him not to just take Soonyoung’s side because he was asked to but clearly everyone had their limit. It was already asking a lot of Jihoon to keep you company like he was, so adding ‘taking your side in the arguments’ was asking maybe too much.
“I don’t wanna talk to him right now, Jihoon. He has said something to me that I never thought—” Shaking your head, you pull your spoon free from your ice cream with a bit of a sad laugh. “It doesn’t matter. It’s not your fault. You’ve kept me sane.”
Your words go right to Jihoon’s heart, causing him to have to look away in fear of how he might react. That was a big role to take in your life and he knew that when it came to you, he was taking it seriously. Jihoon knew he should feel bad for how he started to feel about you but as long as he kept those feelings to himself, they wouldn’t matter.
“Uh—well I… You shouldn’t have to go through all this shit alone. I got tired of seeing you so lonely.”
Furrowing your brows, you watch Jihoon speak and how he looks down at his hands. You had known him for a long time, but over the past few months, you had gotten to know him almost as well as you knew Soonyoung. There were tells in his mannerisms and it was almost like playing poker with him. You could tell when he wasn’t telling you everything.
“I am lonely, Hoonie. You have helped me through a lot.” Sighing, you lean towards the coffee table to put your ice cream down before looking back over to Jihoon to meet his cautious eyes. “The food is nice but just having you here has been the best. Like last night, I really needed that.”
You watch as Jihoon lifts his hand to run his fingers over his hair with a long sigh. Something was on his mind but he just wasn’t saying it. Tilting your head, you scoot closer to him and Jihoon laughs under his breath before you hear what sounds like a curse. Did he not want you to be close to him anymore?
“I–I’m happy to help, Y/N. Last night, you said I didn’t overstep, but — fuck…”
Meeting your eyes, Jihoon’s words die on his tongue. He knows he can’t disappoint you. Not when you look so sad and vulnerable. Not when you are so fucking pretty and looking at him like he is a buoy in the middle of a vast ocean. You let out a soft whine and Jihoon’s eyes fell to your lips just once before he winced and leaned forward to brush his against yours, not wanting you to feel so alone.
At first, you freeze when you feel Jihoon’s lips against yours. Your brain misfires because you know it’s not Soonyoung and you know that you should push Jihoon away but then you relax. You sigh into the kiss and return it, letting Jihoon’s tongue slide along your bottom lip.
You arch against his body when you feel Jihoon’s hand grasp your waist as you lean your head into his hand as he cups your cheek with his other hand. Your tongue glides along his and you moan softly into his mouth before finally Jihoon pulls away with one last peck on your lips.
With his eyes closed tightly, Jihoon rests his forehead against yours, cursing himself silently. If he had thought he had overstepped the night before, now he had looked at the line and flipped it off. His hand trembles against your side and Jihoon sits back, looking up at the ceiling as you look at him coming out of your haze.
“Jihoon…I—”
“It was me. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”
Jihoon starts to pull away from you and you feel your stomach twist in panic so quickly that you grab his shirt to stop him. When your eyes meet, Jihoon looks at you confusedly, but you just shake your head and bite at your lips, trying to think quickly.
“But I…I liked it.”
2:30 am
Jihoon groaned, looking at his lock screen again, before putting his phone face down on his bed. He had been staring at his ceiling for hours at this point, thoughts racing through his mind. All he could see was you looking at him with that sweet look on your face as he kissed you again.
“Fuck!”
There was so much that was fucked up about the situation. He had gone over to your house to talk you into calling Soonyoung. Instead, he had ended up making out with you on your couch before kissing you goodnight at your front door.
Now he was the one avoiding Soonyoung’s text messages. He didn’t know what he was going to say to him. 'Hey, yeah, talked to her. Kissed her and then kissed her again. You’re cool with that, right?’ He was sure that would go over well.
Closing his eyes, Jihoon runs his hand over his face before resting it on his bare chest as he tries to calm himself down but once again his thoughts land on you. He thinks about your fingers clinging to his shirt and how you sounded moaning into his mouth. He thinks about how sweet you would sound if he were between your—
Arching his hips off the bed, Jihoon groans at his own thoughts, trying to stop them but the damage is done. He had willed himself not to get hard while he was at your place but now he could feel his cock stiffening against his thigh under his shorts. This was pathetic; he was pathetic. All it took was thinking about how you’d sound if he were between your legs and he was hard and starting to leak.
Jihoon knew he could ignore his problem and eventually it would go away but it would take a while and he was already struggling to go to sleep. Smacking his hand against the bed, Jihoon lifts his hips, pushing his shorts down, before kicking them off under the sheet, letting his now throbbing cock rest back towards his abdomen.
Sighing in annoyance, he rubs his palm in a circle over his head to collect some of his pre-cum causing himself to hiss and buck his hips. Jihoon hated that his first thought as he wrapped his hand around his shaft, stroking himself from base to tip, was your hand in place of his. It was so fucking wrong of him to think about you like this while he was doing this, but it was doing the trick.
Muttering your name under his breath into a groan, Jihoon picks up speed with his hand as he lifts his hips towards his fist, fucking into it with even strokes. It felt good but it was nothing compared to what he imagined your pussy must feel like.
Soonyoung wasn’t a shy person. He was a jealous person, but that only made him brag more and that meant that he would overshare. Jihoon was thinking about that now as he squeezed his cock under his head, remembering how Soonyoung told him that your pussy was the tightest he had ever had and how you got so wet that he had to lay down towels and use his tongue to clean you up.
Warm, sticky cum hits Jihoon’s stomach and runs down his fingers as he groans out your name one more time before pushing his head back against his pillow. He was out of breath, his heart racing, and you were still running laps in his head as he thought about you licking him clean.
With one last stroke and whimpering groan, Jihoon knows he has nothing else to give. Fingers unwrap from his softening cock as he takes steady breaths, feeling sleep trying to take over him, for him to now fight it, knowing he has to get cleaned up.
He hated himself for what he had just done, but god if it didn’t feel worth it for how hard that he had cum and how well he would sleep.
“Of course I would be excited to see you, Soonyoung…”
You sigh into your words as you lean your head against your driver’s side window. You had a headache; it had been a long day at work and all you wanted to do was get out of traffic and get home. You didn’t really want to be on the phone with Soonyoung as he made empty promises but that is where you found yourself; listening to empty promises and stuck in a traffic jam.
“I think I can make it happen in a couple weeks, maybe three.”
The ever changing Soonyoung timeline. Shaking your head, you hold your phone with one hand and the steering wheel with the other as traffic starts to move in front of you.
“Sure…”
“I’m serious, Y/N! Why don’t you ever believe me? I feel like I’m the only one trying to make this work anymore.”
Frowning, you start to speak, feeling emotion rising in your chest, when suddenly you are launched forward and pain spreads through your chest. Soonyoung waits to hear you speak but instead he hears the sound of your surprised yelp and then the sound of car horns.
“Baby?” When you don’t answer him at first, Soonyoung paces in front of the mirrored wall, running his fingers through his hair. “Y/N? Talk to me, baby!”
Muffled voices and a ringing in your ears are all you can hear as you try to shake your head to push away the foggy feeling. Someone takes your arm as you try to move and you hear a man tell you that you shouldn’t move until someone makes sure you are okay first.
“What happened?”
You can hear yourself better than you can hear the man, until finally your ears seem to pop just as your vision starts to clear and you see your airbag against your chest.
“Car came up too fast behind you and knocked the hell out of you. I was in front of you.”
Leaning up to try to see the man’s vehicle in front of you, the man ushers you back down and shakes his head.
“Just a little damage. I’m not worried about it all that much. Your car is fucked and so is his.”
Wincing as you lean your head back, you can feel the burn from where your airbag and the seatbelt protected you from much worse. You try to turn your head to look for the other driver, hearing sirens, but instead just look for the man you had been talking to.
“Is he okay?”
Sighing, the man nods, giving you an annoyed look.
“Probably the drunk ones always get hurt less, they say.”
Holding his free hand over his ear, Soonyoung struggles to make out as much of your conversation with the unknown man as he can but the moment he realizes you have been in a car accident, he’s panicking. Swallowing hard, Soonyoung clenches his chest as he ends the call with you and grits his teeth, making the decision to call the only other person he knew could be there for you when he couldn’t.
“Yeah?”
Jihoon was almost nervous to pick up the phone after seeing Soonyoung’s name but he did it anyway. He had been avoiding his best friend most of the day except for the stray text here or there but this was the first phone call he had actually accepted.
“Jihoon!”
The panic in Soonyoung’s voice made Jihoon sit up straight, his heart rate speeding up, because his first thought was that something was wrong and it could only be you.
“Ji...I–fuck! I was on the phone with Y/N and I don’t know where she is.”
He could hear Soonyoung struggling with his words as he paced, unsure what to do. Jihoon’s first thought was, Fuck, I couldn’t imagine how hard this would be for him if something happened to you but then he could imagine it. He needed to know what was wrong and where you were.
“Slow down and tell me what the fuck is going on.”
Nodding, Soonyoung runs his hand over his mouth and takes a breath, trying to start over slower and calmer.
“We were talking on the phone and she dropped it, I think. I heard something loud and then some dude was talking to her. He said something about an accident. I think she was in a wreck.”
Looking at his watch, Jihoon stands up from his chair, grabbing his keys and jacket, keeping his phone to his ear as he pushes his studio door open. He knew he should probably tell the others where he was going but, fuck it, they could figure it out.
“It’s 5:30; she was probably going home. Maybe she got stuck on the highway. I’ll find her and call you back.”
Jihoon groans at the woman sitting at the front desk of the emergency room as she stares up at him like he has three heads.
“Like I told you, if you aren’t a relative or a loved one, you can’t go back to see Miss Y/L/N. You can wait in the waiting area.”
His hair was starting to come loose from his bun with the number of times he had shaken his head. Jihoon was getting more annoyed by the minute. Gritting his teeth, he puts his palms flat on the desk and gives the woman a strained smile before tilting his head.
“I am a loved one. Y/N is my girlfriend. I’d really like to see her now.”
After a few more minutes of narrowing eyes at one another, Jihoon found himself being led back to your triage room, where you were sitting on a bed in a hospital gown with a frown. You were honestly so cute that he couldn’t help but pull the smallest of smiles from his lips. However, seeing the cut on your lip and eyebrow and the bruise that was already spreading along your neck, the smile quickly faded.
Nodding to the nurse, Jihoon moves towards your bed as the woman pulls the door shut, giving you and him more privacy. The moment your eyes meet, the tears fall over the rims of your eyes and Jihoon’s heart breaks.
“Hey…What’s that about? Did they say you have to stay overnight or something?”
Shaking your head, you reach out to take Jihoon’s wrist in yours, pulling him closer so that he will sit next to you on your bed. You find yourself just wanting to be close to him.
“No. I can go home as soon as the doctor makes sure I didn’t break anything and gets me a script for some pain meds.”
Furrowing his brows, Jihoon turns his hand over, letting you rest yours in his as he looks over your face even closer now. He could see where the bruises would be and where the hospital had cleaned up your cuts but there was still some dried blood. His stomach was in knots because it never should have happened.
“So why are you crying? Talk to me…”
“My car is fucked for one and I—” Your voice falls over into a small sob, causing Jihoon to lift his hand, his thumb gently caressing your cheek to push the tears away. “I’m scared and I don’t wanna be alone now. Soonyoung is—”
You don’t finish the sentence but Jihoon knows how it finishes. Soonyoung is so far away. He had heard you say it many times but this time it went right to his gut. He almost hated Soonyoung for leaving you alone and letting something like this happen to you, even though it wasn’t his fault and he had no way of preventing it whether he was here or not.
“One thing at a time, Y/N. Come here…”
Shifting on your hospital bed, Jihoon sits beside you, letting you curl against his chest so you can rest against him. He can feel your tears soaking through his shirt but he doesn’t mind it. The only thing he cares about is who is in his arms and whether you are safe.
“Let’s go through things one at a time. Your car. I know you have insurance. We will call tomorrow and make sure it’s being taken care of. I can get you to and from work.”
You start to complain but Jihoon just holds you tighter, making you sob softly against him before you nod.
“And being alone...”
You hear him let out a breath as he thinks of what to say so you do it first as you run your fingers along his chest around a button.
“Could you stay with me for a few days?”
Closing his eyes, Jihoon swallows hard as he leans his head back against the wall. He knew he should say no and that you should ask one of your girlfriends but he hates the idea of disappointing you.
“Yeah…I can do that, honey.”
“She’s banged up but she’s gonna be alright. They got her some pain meds and she’s out of work the rest of the week to rest.”
Soonyoung furrowed his brows to Jihoon’s words. He could tell the man was whispering but he didn’t really know why… Was he still with you? Looking down at his phone, he tried to do the math in his head but it didn’t make sense. If it was 5:30 pm for him, that would mean it was at least after midnight for you, if not later.
“Thanks for letting me know. Wish I was there… hate the idea of her being alone right now.”
Sighing, Jihoon looks at you in your bed as he leans back in the armchair before shaking his head at Soonyoung’s words. He wasn’t sure how to work around what the man had just said to him. He wasn’t an idiot but he didn’t want to cause a fight.
"Yeah, I don’t like it either but what is anyone going to do about it, Soonyoung? I told her that until her car is out of the shop, I’ll take her to and from work. That’s one less thing for her to worry about right now.”
Maybe he was letting his imagination get the best of him. That was it. He had always been a jealous man when it came to you and there was no reason for him to be worried when it came to you and Jihoon. Nodding along with his best friend’s words, Soonyoung offers a smile to Aimi as she gestures for him to hurry up as she and a few of the other students wait by the door of the studio.
“Thank you for doing that, Ji. I’ll try to call her later, after she’s got some rest. I owe you big time.”
That was an understatement, is all Jihoon could think as he heard the sounds of a girl giggling just as Soonyoung hung up the phone call. Of course, it could be nothing but there was no way to know.
Moving his eyes back over to you as your hands rested under your cheek, Jihoon tilted his head and started to stand up, intent on going to the couch, when you whispered his name. At first, he thinks you are just dreaming but then you sit up and look at him, making him stop in the doorway.
“Hey, you okay? You need something to drink? More pain meds?”
Shaking your head, you reach out your hand towards him and Jihoon’s heart beats hard in his chest at the implications of what you were asking of him.
“Stay? Don’t wanna be alone.”
Your voice is so tired and small. Jihoon closes his eyes for a brief moment before nodding and moving towards the bed to crawl in behind you, laying a good distance away. He thinks you’ll be satisfied to have him just anywhere close to you but then you turn over and lay your head on his chest, wrapping your arm over him so that you can pull your body in close to his.
“This okay, Hoonie?”
Running his free hand through his now loose, long blond hair, Jihoon wants to tell you no and that you need to lay away from him but everything about that is a lie. There was nothing more that he wanted. He hears you sigh happily when his hand under you shifts to run his fingers along your back, allowing you to curl even tighter against him, your leg pulling to rest against his thigh.
“Yeah, it’s okay, honey.”
You smile at the pet name. It wasn’t something that Jihoon had called you much about or ever before, but you were enjoying it. It made your stomach feel warm and your heart feel fluttery. Nuzzling your cheek against his chest, you spread your fingers out along his abs and close them to scratch at his skin through his thin shirt with a sigh.
“I like that…that name.”
If anything, Jihoon knew he was crossing a line with it, but fuck, look at where he was and look at where you were. The line was 300 miles back and he was waving at it in the distance at this point.
“I like it too. I like it too much.”
Shaking your head, you glance up at Jihoon with a pout on your lips as he meets your eyes in the dim, moonlit room. You could see the apprehension on his face and you knew why it was there but as much as you knew you should feel guilty, he was the one here and he was the one taking care of you.
Reaching up with your hand, you hold his chin in place so you can lean up to press your lips against his, granting you a soft groan from his. Jihoon’s brows furrow, and his fingers scratch lightly against your lower back right over your ass before he gasps for a breath, pulling away from you.
“Y/N…”
“I want you, Jihoon.”
Jihoon had felt bad about not giving in to you after you had confessed that you wanted him. It wasn’t that he didn’t want you. God, if anything, he wanted you too much and that was what was killing him. You had pouted for a few minutes but then accepted his excuse that it was too fast and too soon after your accident before you fell asleep in his arms.
The sun was starting to rise and he knew he would have to leave you, at least for a few hours today. He would need to go into the recording studio and at least explain his sudden disappearance and work for a couple hours, but god, did you make it hard to leave you.
Running his fingers over your cheek as you nuzzle against his chest, Jihoon can’t help but smile as you smack your lips in your sleep. You are so cute that it is almost physically painful for him to look at you and not act on the whims that he feels. He wants to kiss you, put your back against the bed and show you how he would spoil you in bed. Instead, Jihoon just watches you sleep for a few minutes longer before he tries to slide his arm from under your body, only to feel your fingers tighten in the front of his t-shirt holding him to you.
“Hoonie…don’t leave.”
Your voice almost breaks his heart because he didn’t want to leave you but he had to. Sighing, Jihoon brushes your hair back, leaning to press his lips against yours, feeling you smile against his. With that, he’s able to maneuver his arm out, only for you to whimper against his lips and tug him back against you.
“Honey…I have to go take a shower and get to work. I won’t be gone all day, I promise.”
Looking down at you, Jihoon frowns at the darkening spot near your eye and lip. His eyes move down to where your tank top does nothing to hide your largest bruise on your shoulder and collarbone from where your seatbelt had been sitting.
“I’m gonna miss you. Can’t you just stay?”
Shaking his head, Jihoon leans to kiss your eyebrow lightly, then your split lip, before leaning to kiss your neck and collarbone, making you moan. It wasn’t his intention to turn you on; instead, he was just trying to kiss your wounds better but you couldn’t help but lace your fingers through his long hair, holding him to you.
Groaning as he feels your heel run along his thigh, Jihoon takes a breath against your neck, trying to keep his head. It had been a long time since he had been with anyone and he never thought the next person would be his best friend’s girl, but here you were with your hands in his hair and your body pressed against his.
“Jihoon…”
His name on your lips is like a siren’s call and Jihoon’s resolve breaks. Meeting your eyes, his lips press against yours hard, only for you to whimper at the slight pain of your split lip. He pulls back, realizing that his kiss is gentle and tender as his tongue dances with yours. You feel his hand slide from your waist to your hip so that his fingers can press into the top of your shorts, making you arch off the bed, wanting him to take them off.
“I can’t give you everything right now. I really do have to go in for a while today, but I’ll give you something, okay, honey?”
Nodding, you whine out his name as Jihoon pulls back from you. His eyes move over your face and down your body as his fingers press into the top of your shorts, pulling them down your legs with trembling hands. The line was thousands of miles behind him now; he couldn’t even see it. All he could see was you. All Jihoon could hear was his name on your lips as he dropped your shorts on the bed next to him and you spread your legs for him.
Jihoon lets out a shaky breath and it dawns on him that there is no one else who matters who isn’t in this room. It’s just you and him. His eyes move from your face, down your body, and finally between your legs, where his mouth starts to water at the sight of you. Your perfect folds are spread to reveal just how wet your pussy has gotten for him. Not for Soonyoung, but for him.
“Fuck…gonna eat you out, is that okay?”
It had been so long since you had been touched, so having someone look at you the way Jihoon did was almost overwhelming. You felt like you could cum untouched by just the feeling of his eyes but then his question and what he wanted to do to you had you clenching around nothing. Whining, you nod, scooting your hips further down in the bed as Jihoon moves between your legs, leaning to press kisses to your soft thighs, waiting for your verbal answer.
“Yeah, please? God, please, Hoonie?”
It wouldn’t take much convincing for Jihoon to give you what you wanted. With one hand wrapped around your hip, he uses his other to part your folds so he can see all of you. Letting out a groan to the sight, Jihoon glanced up the length of your body before shaking his head and spitting on to your clit before latching on to it with his mouth.
Soonyoung was great at everything in bed but this was different. You hadn’t been with too many people before you met Soonyoung and up until this moment, you had been faithful to him, but there was something about Lee Jihoon between your legs that had tears already streaming down your face. The groans and grunts let out against your pussy were almost animalistic as he ground his face against you, fucking you with his tongue.
Your fingers grip Jihoon’s hair, tugging at the long locks holding him closer between your legs as you feel the pressure building in your lower abdomen. It’s only when you are unable to hold it back anymore that you cry out his name and roll your hips hard against his face, cumming onto his tongue and chin.
Jihoon groans quietly against your warm, wet folds as he laps at your cum, enjoying every last drop. His fingers lazily massage your folds, causing your thighs to jerk and for him to smile against your pussy until you whine his name as if asking for mercy.
Licking his lips clean of you, Jihoon moves up between your legs to rest over you, kissing you gently and letting you taste yourself on his tongue. He basks in the sounds of your moans as your fingers grip and almost tear at his shirt, wanting more but he had already told you he couldn’t give you everything just yet. Nudging his nose against yours, Jihoon smiles against your lips before pulling away as you almost sob his name but he knows this time it’s just a ploy to keep him in your bed.
“I told you, honey, I gotta shower and get to work. I’ll pick up food tonight and we can cuddle when I get back.”
Turning on your side, you take a deep breath, feeling exhausted as you watch Jihoon walk towards your en suite, his fingers running through his long blonde hair. You knew you should feel guilty and maybe you did deep down but you had needs and right now, as your thighs ached from your legs being spread apart as he ate you out like his last meal, you couldn’t feel a single drop of guilt.
You wake up to the sound of your phone, causing your brows to furrow in annoyance. You had been sleeping so well but still, your fingers reach out for your phone, bringing it to your ear as you answer it with a sleepy voice.
“Hello? Jihoon?”
Furrowing his brows, Soonyoung tries not to take too much offense to how you answer the phone because he can tell you were asleep and he can tell you aren’t yourself. Jihoon had told him that you were on some pretty strong pain medications, so maybe that was clouding your judgment.
“No, baby, it’s me, Soonie.”
You smile softly, feeling a warmth rush over you upon hearing Soonyoung’s voice. There was a conflicting feeling underlying it but on the surface, you were happy to hear from him. You missed him despite everything and you loved him.
“Hi, Soonie.”
That was more like it, you seemed more like yourself. Maybe a bit of a drunk version of yourself but still, you seemed happy to hear from him and that Soonyoung could handle.
“Hey, baby. How are you feeling?”
Whining as you turn over on your back, you put your hand on your shoulder, feeling the stretch in your arm, making Soonyoung hear you in pain. He knew if he could be on a plane and back with you in that moment, he would be, but it was literally impossible.
“I’m fine. Just hurts a bit. I could probably go back to work earlier than the doctor said.”
Shaking his head, Soonyoung punches in the code to his building as he rests his phone on his shoulder, letting his foot catch the door so he can get his stuff inside.
“No, baby… listen to what the doctor said. If you need more time to heal and rest, take it.”
Pouting, you sit up in bed, looking around for Jihoon, remembering he had left for work long before. Nodding to Soonyoung’s words, you just sigh and give in to your current predicament.
“I guess so. Maybe they will have the car fixed before Monday. I hate the idea of Hoonie driving me around.”
Hoonie, it wasn’t like that was the first time he had heard you call his best friend that but for some reason this time it made his hair stand on end and his mouth go dry. Nodding, Soonyoung puts his groceries down hard on the counter, making you jump in your bed with a wince as you hear him sigh loudly.
“You okay, Soonyoung?”
Rolling his eyes, Soonyoung takes out one of his beers and pops it open, taking a sip as he leans against the counter, tilting his head as he looks at the label with narrowed eyes.
“Course I am, babe. Get some rest. I love you.”
Soonyoung doesn’t give you much time to respond before the sound of a phone call ending goes off in your ear and you are left with his picture staring back in your face. Furrowing your brows, you reach for your bottle of water that Jihoon had left and your bottle of pills, taking another one before settling back into your covers and trying to relax once again.
Looking at his phone, Soonyoung runs his thumb along his contacts before he lands on Aimi and puts it to his ear, a small smirk pulling at the corner of his lips when he hears her pick up.
“Hey, no, yeah... I’m fine. Just wanted to see if you wanted to come over and hang out.”
Jihoon tried to be quiet while moving through your front door, but smelling food cooking as soon as he walked in made him realize there was no point in trying. Following his nose, he smiled while watching you stand in front of the stove in fresh clothes, humming along to something playing on your phone. If you had heard him come in, you weren’t letting him in on it.
Sliding his hands around your waist, Jihoon laughs when you jump, dropping your spoon into your soup with a small splash of liquid that both of you are barely able to miss as it hits the floor. Jihoon whispers apologies against your ear before leaning to kiss your neck as you calm down and pout at him before he pulls away to get a paper towel to clean up.
“I didn’t mean to scare you. I thought you would have heard me come in.”
Shaking your head, you look down in your soup for the lost spoon before Jihoon moves back to your side, dipping his fingers in and pulling it out with a small hiss to the heat, letting you take it from him.
“I didn’t, but I’m glad you are home.”
Home. What a loaded word. This wasn’t his home but you made him wish it was. Everywhere he looked, he was reminded it wasn’t his home as Soonyoung smiled at him from the fridge and the walls, but he was getting pretty good at ignoring him.
Sliding his hand along your hip, Jihoon takes a deep breath of the steam coming off the soup, nodding appreciatively as you look up at his content. This was the happiest you had been all day since before he left you for work. It was the most coherent you had been as well. You barely remembered your phone call with Soonyoung and you hadn’t received any text messages from him so you knew he was asleep or something. It didn’t matter.
“Can you get down a couple bowls and we can eat on the couch? We have some trash TV to catch up on.”
This was the perfect way to spend an evening and how Jihoon wished he could spend every single evening. He didn’t need to worry about rushing off. His stomach was full of food that you had made for him and now you were lying in his arms as the TV played one of your silly shows that you cared too much about.
Fingers lightly strum over Jihoon’s chest as you smile, listening to his heartbeat more than you listen to the arguments or gossip on the show. You find yourself enjoying the feeling of Jihoon’s hand cupping your hip and his thumb resting under your shirt above your shorts more than you do anything else. You never want the night to end or maybe it is more than that, something deeper but it’s nothing that you can talk about out loud just yet.
When your eyes meet Jihoon's, he smiles at you and you feel like you are melting on the spot because it's been so long since someone has looked at you like that. Since someone has really looked at you, you feel like you could get lost in his eyes as his fingers lightly move across your cheek and down your jaw before he leans in to press his lips to yours, and you melt all over again. There’s something there that is unspoken and it will remain unspoken for the sake of everyone involved. You just kiss and give into it.
Jihoon groans when he finally moves you to your bed and has you sitting on his lap. He whines into your mouth, feeling the weight of you over his hard cock. He wants to tell you that maybe this is too much or too fast but what about if this is too much or too fast? What about this? Is it even right? He knows it and he knows what you do too, so instead he just gives into it.
Clothes find their way into the floor until your skin is naked against Jihoon and his fingers can finally move over your soft skin like he has always wanted to. He feels dirty and like this isn’t his—because it isn't—and yet something whispers in his ear that you are his. Right now, at this moment, you are his.
“Please?”
One word falls from your lips and Jihoon will give you the world; he will bring down the moon and the stars for you to make it better. Resting on your back, you cling to Jihoon, his hair falling from his bun as he looks down at you, his right hand sliding along your inner thigh, working its way towards your warm center. Two fingers slide between your wet folds and Jihoon’s lips fall open in the same way yours do as he works his fingers into your pussy, feeling your warm walls clench around them.
He remembers in that moment Soonyoung bragging to him about how tight and messy you are and he can’t help but smirk to himself that he is getting to know that firsthand. Groaning against his arm, Jihoon can barely move his fingers inside of you, searching for that one spot that will make you scream his name but when he finds it, you arch off the bed and Jihoon almost cums on the spot, untouched by the sight of you and the sounds that come out of your mouth.
Your velvet walls tremble around his fingers as he pumps them in and out of you at almost a brutal pace, trying to get you ready for his cock without even thinking about anything else. All Jihoon can think about is your wet slick seeping around his fingers and how it is running down his wrist with each deep thrust of his fingers. He is just thinking about how good it will feel on his cock and how sweet you will sound as he’s pushing you into the mattress that you share with Soonyoung.
Shaking his head to push Soonyoung out of it, Jihoon groans your name as your nails scratch his chest and along his neck, pulling him down to meet your lips when you cum. He groans loudly, feeling his fingers being sucked back into you with each wave of your orgasm, making it almost impossible for him to pull away from you until you finally relax and your thighs stop shaking.
Smiling, Jihoon presses kisses on your cheek and along your neck before looking up at you to meet your eyes as he slips his fingers from your dripping center. You watch as he brings them to his lips and sucks each one of them clean with a small groan, making you whine under him.
“Hoonie, please, I need you.”
“Yeah? I won’t make you wait, honey.”
Leaning over you, Jihoon opens the nightstand he knows to be Soonyoung and groans when he only finds an empty box of condoms before resting his head on his bicep.
“Baby, do you have condoms on your side?”
Swallowing hard, you shake your head already, knowing you don’t. Dread feels you knowing that if you don’t say something, he won’t fuck you like you want him to. Lifting your hand, you cling to Jihoon’s arm and whine as sweetly as you can, making him look down at you as you look up at him through lowered lashes.
“I don't, but I’m on birth control, Jihoon. That’s why we don’t have anything here. Just fuck me, please?”
Jihoon knew he should say no and wait until he could pick something up but that look in your eyes and the sweet tone of your voice were killing him. You hadn’t been with anyone else besides Soonyoung in years and he knew he hadn’t been with anyone in months, maybe closer to a year. Groaning, Jihoon rests his forehead against your shoulder before nodding, making you smile as you run your fingers through his hair.
Learning from you, Jihoon pushes down his boxers, kicking off the last remaining piece of clothing, keeping him separated from you as your eyes follow him. Swallowing hard, you watch as he strokes himself a few times before he meets your eyes as if looking for permission once again, only for you to nod and slide your leg up and off to the side, letting him move back between your thighs.
Running his thumb over your clit first, Jihoon watches how your body jerks, making him smirk before he follows that same action with the head of his cock. His brows furrowed as he made a pass with his tip between your folds to collect some of your arousal before finally meeting your eyes as he pushed into you for the first time, slow and steady.
You had been used to the feeling of Soonyoung stretching you out so the feeling of Jihoon was completely different. Soonyoung was longer, whereas Jihoon had girth and it was almost painful as he sank into you, making you see white for a moment. A moan gets caught in your throat when Jihoon bottoms out and he stays where he is, catching his breath as you clench around him, making it impossible for him to move at first.
“Oh…shit. Y/N, you gotta relax. Relax for me, honey.”
Nodding, you do your best to listen to Jihoon’s voice and let your body relax as his fingers stroke the side of your face into your hair. You smile at the feeling of his lips pressing against your throat, feeling his smile against your skin when you do as he asked you to.
“That’s it. Such a good girl. Can I move?”
Whining out a yes, you nod and scratch at Jihoon’s back as he starts to thrust slowly but deeply, making you cry once again. Tears of pleasure begin to stream down your face and over Jihoon’s thumb, causing him to look up in concern until he sees the blissed out look on your face.
Wiping the tears from your face, Jihoon groans your name, picking up his pace and listening to you cry out his name as you tighten around him once again. He didn’t need you to tell him that you were close. He could feel it as your orgasm started to rip through you. The way you got impossibly wetter and how you clamped down on him and held him inside of you like a vice.
Groaning your name, it soon turns into a hiss as he follows you over that edge in a panic, trying to pull out only to have you cling to him with tears in your eyes, begging him to stay. Nodding, Jihoon relaxes, and his cum fills you with each deep thrust, making you throw your head back with a moan of his name.
Collapsing on top of you, Jihoon struggles to catch his breath for a moment as sweat rolls along his neck and down his chest to your skin. Licking your lips, you run your fingers through his hair and over his back as you come down from your high, feeling like you have been to the moon and back.
“Fuck…”
A smile pulls at your lips as Jihoon curses against your neck. After a few moments, he rolls over to your side, pulling from you carefully, before resting his forearm over his eyes, still catching his breath as if he had just run a mile. Shaking your head, you can’t help but admire the man beside you in your bed under the moonlight, as if he is a piece of art, as with each of his breaths, his muscles expand and contract, showing off all his hard work spent in the gym.
“Thank you, Jihoon. I really needed that.”
Laughing, Jihoon just shakes his head, moving his arm to look at you before laughing again and pulling you into his arms to kiss you softly, making you smile.
“Why are you thanking me for fucking you?”
Shrugging you, run your finger nails along his abs, making him suck in on a breath as he leans his head back against the pillows.
“What else am I supposed to say?”
Shaking his head, Jihoon runs his fingers over your back and furrows his brows, realizing he isn’t even sure what the right answer to that question is. It isn’t that you love him or that he loves you, not even if it were true. So perhaps your response was appropriate for the time. Sighing, he looks up at the ceiling, staying quiet for a moment before lightly patting your back.
“I don’t know, but I do know we need a shower. We smell like sex.”
Laughing, you watch Jihoon slide out of your bed and around towards the ensuite, where the water for the shower starts to run.
“Such a romantic, Lee Jihoon.”
Grinning, Jihoon leans against the bathroom counter, looking at himself in the mirror as the room starts to fill with steam and he waits for you to join him.
“Yeah, I know I am, honey.”
Staring at your phone, you run your thumb over Soonyoung’s face as you think about what happened between you and Jihoon. The guilt had started to weigh heavily on you. That wasn’t who you were. You had always been faithful to Soonyoung because that’s the type of person he and you were.
Pressing your thumb down over his name, you put the phone to your ear and sigh. You knew it was pretty early in Tokyo. It was after 5 pm for you and Jihoon would be coming back home soon so that would mean Soonyoung was probably getting ready to leave for work. What you didn’t expect was someone else to pick up his phone.
“Hello?”
A sweet female’s voice greets your ear and you feel like the walls that have been stable around you are crashing down around you. You hear her say hello again before you shake some sense into yourself and look at your hands, finally able to speak.
“Uh hi… I was trying to reach Soonyoung.”
The girl smiles into her words before giggling as she looks around his apartment, listening to the shower turn off.
“Yeah, he’s here. He’s getting out of the showe—”
“Hello?”
Soonyoung had heard Aimi talking to someone and there were only a few people who would be calling him this early in the morning. Taking the phone out of her hand, he shoots her an annoyed look as he glances at your face on his screen before trying to get you to talk to him.
“Baby?”
Aimi pouts while watching Soonyoung hold his towel up around his waist as she sits back on his bed. Her eyes follow him as he moves into the bathroom, shutting the door where she can’t hear him anymore.
“Who was that, Soonyoung?”
Sighing as he leans against the counter, Soonyoung tries to think of his feet and the best thing he can think of is a half truth.
“A student. I–uh I gotta work on some stuff with her before class. She showed up too early. Sorry, she answered my phone, babe. Won’t happen again.”
Tears gather at the rims of your eyes as you just nod along with Soonyoung’s words. You knew deep down that there was nothing you should have over him after what had happened between you and Jihoon but it still hurt. You didn’t believe him because you knew what Soonyoung sounded like when he was lying.
“Baby? You–you heard me, right?”
Wiping at your cheeks, you just nod again before looking up at the entryway to your bedroom, where Jihoon is standing with a concerned look on his face.
“Yeah, I heard you. I gotta go, Soonyoung.”
Leaning his head down towards the sink, Soonyoung groans under his breath. He didn’t want to just let you get off the phone after something like this but he couldn’t force you to stay on the phone and listen to him come up with excuses.
‘Yeah…okay baby. I love you, so so much.”
Looking up at Jihoon, you wipe at your cheek once more, answering Soonyoung numbly while your words are left in the air, causing Jihoon’s heart to tighten.
“I love you.”
Hanging up your phone, you drop it onto the bed and close your eyes before you feel the mattress sink next to you and Jihoon’s arms wrap around you. He wasn’t sure what was happening but he knew you were in pain and if he could take it away, he would.
Closing his eyes, Jihoon rests his face against your hair and takes in a deep breath, letting it out as you let out a soft, sad sob that shatters his heart. He knew that you were talking to Soonyoung. He knew that ‘I love you’ hadn’t been meant for him but he wished it had been. In his mind, he would never leave you like this. He wouldn’t have you crying because of him day after day.
“Y/N…honey…do you wanna talk about it?”
Shaking your head, you start to tell him no before you lean back to meet his eyes and all of your resolve melts away. Jihoon can only coo at you in sympathy, bringing his thumbs up to push the tears from under your eyes as you try to explain about the girl picking up the phone.
“What do you want me to do, baby? I’ll call him and cuss his ass out. I’ll call her.”
The words were nice but deep down, even Jihoon knew what you and he were doing was no better. At the end of the day, you didn’t really know if Soonyoung was sleeping with this girl, but did it really matter?
Moving to lay against Jihoon, you shake your head hard and cling to Jihoon like a life raft to keep you from drowning. You know that you shouldn’t want him as much as you do but all you can think about in that moment is his lips on yours and how it would distract you from your heartbreak.
“No, no…just…”
This was becoming the routine for the two of you. Jihoon would go to work and come home before ending up on top of you, either in bed or on the couch, where the two of you would eventually end up naked.
Furrowing his brows, Jihoon groans as you lay back on your bed, pulling him with you. He knew what you wanted as your fingers pulled at his shirt and worked his hair loose from its bun. He didn’t want to tell you no, so he wouldn’t. Instead, Jihoon just meshes his lips with yours and kisses away your pain and tears. With each piece of clothing that he removes from you or himself, that’s just another layer of anxiety or stress that he is removing until finally his skin is met with yours.
“Hoonie…be rough with me?”
Closing his eyes, Jihoon bites down lightly against your neck, near where your bruise was starting to fade when you asked him that question. There had been times when he had wanted to let go with you and just have his way with you but he had been afraid to hurt you or scare you, but now you were asking.
“You sure, honey?”
Nodding, you scratch your nails along Jihoon’s back, knowing that you are leaving marks that will fade in a few minutes. You didn’t want to think anymore; you just wanted to feel. All you wanted in your brain was Jihoon, Jihoon, Jihoon.
Hissing at the feeling of your nails on his skin, Jihoon pulls back to look down at you with fire in his eyes. He would give you what you wanted. Licking his lips, Jihoon stares at you for a moment, only to then capture your lips with his in a breathtaking kiss. You whine into his mouth as Jihoon’s teeth nip at your lips before he pulls away completely, kneeling on the bed in front of you.
“Come here; let me use that mouth.”
Turning over, you blink up at Jihoon, only for him to pull you to where he wants you with one hand as he holds his cock in his other. Sucking on his bottom lip, Jihoon tilts his head, watching your eyes fall to what’s in front of you before you open your mouth and he taps his head on your tongue a couple times before sliding into your warm, wet mouth with a groan.
“Fuck…just like that. Hands on my thighs, baby. If it’s too much, tap a few times, and I’ll stop.”
Lifting your eyes to Jihoon, you moan around his cock and he almost loses it right then and there. He could feel your nails digging into his thighs as he buried his cock into your mouth, his tip almost reaching the back of your throat. The sound of your moans mixed with gagging caused Jihoon’s brain to misfire as he groaned your name.
Fingers hold your head close to his hips as Jihoon keeps you as close to him as possible until he hears you whine and he lets you go. Leaning your head back, you blink up through tears as Jihoon wipes his hand over his lips, watching his pre-cum and your saliva drips down your chin. The sight is something he knows he won’t forget for a long time.
“Good fucking girl, honey. Now turn your ass towards me. You want it rough, don’t you?”
Nodding, you can barely answer Jihoon as you weakly move into the position he wants you in. Hands slap at your thighs, causing them to sting, before the same hands come down on your ass, making you cry out in surprise. Leaning over your back, Jihoon smiles against your ear, listening to you calm down as he presses small kisses on your skin.
“You like that? When I spank you?”
“Yeah, I like it, Hoonie.”
Smirking, Jihoon pushes off the bed and slaps his hand down over your ass cheek one more time, listening to the sound of your moaning cry as he rubs his hand in a circle over the warm skin. With his free hand, he uses his thumb to spread your folds as he ruts his hips against you from behind, feeling your arousal drip onto his cock.
“Honey…You are soaked. Might make me think you like being treated like a slut.”
Whimpering in embarrassment, you bury your face against your arm. You listen to Jihoon laugh as his fingers dig into your hip. The fingers that once were running between your folds now help to press his cock against your leaking hole.
Gasping, you scratch at the bedding under you, feeling the way that Jihoon’s cock stretches you in this new position. When his cock is fully buried inside, only then are you able to fully catch your breath, only to have it taken when it gives you no mercy and starts to pound into you relentlessly.
You knew what you had asked for and Jihoon was delivering it. There were no coherent thoughts left in your mind. The only thing you could think about was him until the sound of his phone going off just as you were about to cum brought you back to reality.
Frowning, Jihoon glances towards the nightstand to see Soonyoung’s face lighting up on his phone. Leaning over your back, Jihoon groans your name, feeling you tighten around him, only for you to glance towards the phone. He can feel the exact moment when you fall under him and he knows the moment is lost.
“Stop…stop…please?”
Coming to a stop, Jihoon carefully pulls from you as you ask him to, his head turning away from the phone only for a moment before he curses under his breath and smacks it from the nightstand. Bringing the phone to his ear, still out of breath, he answers the call, anger evident in his tone.
“Yeah?”
Taken aback by the anger, Soonyoung furrows his brows and wipes his towel across his neck to clean off a new layer of sweat from practice. Maybe Jihoon had been at the gym and he was interrupting a set, but he had never gotten that sort of response or that level.
“Am I bothering you? Fuck, dude…”
Rolling his eyes, Jihoon sits on the side of your bed, feeling his head start to hurt as you turn away from him and pull your legs up towards your stomach. He knew you were feeling shame and guilt when you didn’t need to and it was Soonyoung’s fault, it was his fault. You weren’t at fault for this.
“Yeah, you are. What do you want?”
Scoffing, Soonyoung looks at himself in the mirror, clenching his fist and unclenching it before letting out a sigh.
“I was just waiting to check in. I wanted to see if you had talked to Y/N today. Something happened earlier and I am just…”
The laugh starts off unamused but ends up being a genuine laugh as Jihoon leans his head back, causing Soonyoung to be even more confused until Jihoon speaks.
“The chick picking up the phone? I know about it. Be smarter about your hook-ups if you are trying to keep them from your girl, Soonyoung.”
Now Soonyoung was seeing red. Jihoon might be his best friend but that didn’t give him the right to tell him how to live his life or how to handle his relationship with you. Especially when he was getting awfully cozy with you.
“Fuck you, man. You have no idea what I’m going through. Know what I think?”
Making a questioning sound, Jihoon lifts his brows, waiting for Soonyoung to continue but Soonyoung just scoffs, putting his fist against the mirror.
“I’m waiting to hear the great gospel, according to Kwon Soonyoung.”
Shaking his head, Soonyoung hangs up the call and turns to slide down the mirror to sit on the floor as Aimi frowns at him. Moving closer, she kneels in front of him, brushing her fingers over his cheek and he gives in, leaning into a friendly touch.
Three Weeks Later
You had just gotten your car back. You and Jihoon had started splitting time between who’s place you would stay at but today just happened to be one of the evenings when he was busy and you needed a little time to yourself.
Rubbing the back of your neck, you drop your keys into the bowl beside the door and sigh, not noticing the extra shoes beside the door. You don’t notice the suitcase next to the couch until the smell of Soonyoung’s cologne overwhelms you.
“Hey baby.”
Startled, you take a step back as Soonyoung smiles at you, his brows furrowing at your reaction to him. Maybe it hadn’t been the best idea to just show up but you had started ignoring his calls more and answering fewer texts and he was starting to worry about you. He was starting to worry about you and him.
“Oh, hey, sorry... didn’t mean to scare you, babe.”
Grinning, Soonyoung moves towards you, pulling you into his arms as you wrap your arms around his waist, feeling tears stinging your eyes. You feel overwhelmed and uncertain what to do or how to feel. He doesn’t seem real, even if he’s in your arms. The man that you have loved for so many years of your life now just feels like guilt in your hands.
“Aren’t you happy to see me?”
Nodding, you cling to Soonyoung, not wanting him to see any disappointment on your face. Because you aren’t really disappointed. You have missed him. No matter anything that had happened or would happen, this man was your friend and you always wanted him to be. He had started that way, as your best friend. He knew how to make you laugh better than anyone and you loved him for that.
“Of course I am, Soonie. When did you get here?”
Soonyoung smiles, burying his nose against your hair and taking in your scent as he closes his eyes. He tries to count the time in his head but the jet lag makes everything muddle together. Shaking his head, he just laughs and shrugs his shoulders.
“Couple of hours ago. Just enough time to throw some left over in the oven and a load of laundry in. All I wanna do now is lay down and cuddle with my girl. Can we do that?”
Your heart feels like glass as you listen to Soonyoung talk, because it sounds so simple. You want to tell him everything he wants to hear so you just do it. You nod and look up at him with a smile, letting him press a kiss to your lips that you meekly return, though your brain drifts to Jihoon.
“Yeah, of course. Let me... let me–uh change and we can lay on the couch.”
Whining, Soonyoung wraps his arms around you from behind, burying his face against your neck as you start to walk away from him. Your hand on your cellphone is in your jacket pocket as he pulls you back against him.
“Not the couch, kitten. I wanna lay on the bed. I’m tired… cuddle with me.”
You scoff into an unamused laugh before nodding and looking over your shoulder at Soonyoung, who smiles at you so sweetly that you can’t say no.
“Yeah, the bed. I’ll change and meet you there.”
Watching Soonyoung trudge off down the hall, you let out a breath, pulling out your cellphone to text Jihoon with shaking hands.
Y/N 💗: Soonyoung is home
The day had been long but the night was going to be longer. Jihoon hated album wrap ups but as a producer, sometimes he had to do grunt work up until the early hours of the morning. Hearing his phone go off was one thing that could make him smile until he read your text and his face fell.
Muttering fuck under his breath and drawing the attention of a friend in the studio with him, Jihoon apologizes, turning his chair away to answer you.
Hoonie 💗: For how long?
Y/N 💗: I have no idea
Rubbing his hand over his face, Jihoon puts his phone face down on his desk in front of him. It wasn’t your fault. In truth, Soonyoung had given you both a warning when he said two or three weeks, but he usually never kept those promises.
Looking at your phone as you move into your room, you glance at the bed to see Soonyoung lying where Jihoon usually would be now. A smile on the man’s face as he flips through channels on the TV, picking what he wants instead of what you like.
Eyes shift towards you as you move into the closet, closing it halfway and making Soonyoung’s brows furrow. You had never shied away from him before, but it had been several months since he had been home so maybe that was all this was. Shaking his head, he turned his attention back to the TV and leaned his head back against the pillows, enjoying the comforts of home.
Hanging up your jacket, you swallow hard, seeing no new texts from Jihoon. You couldn’t blame him. There wasn’t anything else to say. You could hear the TV and Soonyoung’s soft laughter, which made you wish that things were as easy as he was making them seem.
“Soonie…babe? How…uh, how long are you home?”
Pursing his lips, Soonyoung glances towards the closet again, seeing a peek of your skin as you change into your classic choice of pajamas, a tank top, and short shorts. In one way, your question was a simple and normal one, but in another way, it seemed suspicious. Soonyoung decided to keep it simple and think that you were just curious about his plans.
“Wish it was longer, but... I fly out tomorrow night.”
Staring at the clothes in front of you, a scoff falls from your lips. The first thought on your mind is “What was the fucking point?” but you don’t say it out loud. Instead, you just pick up your phone and text Jihoon as you shake your head.
Y/N 💗: He flies out tomorrow night.
You don’t expect a text back, so you just hold your phone to your waist until you move to the bed, smiling at Soonyoung. Laying your phone face down, you plug it in, leaving it silent, before slipping under the covers and letting your boyfriend pull you in close to him with a happy groan.
“You aren’t mad at me, are you? I tried to find a better time but it’s so fucking busy. They keep trying to keep me on full time.”
Furrowing your brows, you look up at Soonyoung to gauge his expression but it’s almost impossible to judge. You start to realize you aren’t sure you know this man anymore.
“And what do you want to do?”
Shrugging, Soonyoung stumbles over his words before just smiling at you and running his fingers along your jaw.
“Right now? I just wanna kiss my beautiful girlfriend. I’ve missed you so fucking much, baby.”
You knew he was deflecting but you also didn’t want to argue. You didn’t have the strength or the will to fight with the one person who you had simultaneously missed and hated over the past few months. So you give in, closing your eyes as Soonyoung’s lips brush over yours. You take a breath as his hand slides along your waist and he pulls you closer before laying you on your back so he can lay on top of you.
Nothing feels the way it should. At one point in your life, you loved Soonyoung with every fiber of your being. His touch was electric; his mouth was like fire on your skin, but now you feel dull as he groans your name, his thigh pressed between your legs. It isn’t that it doesn’t feel good or that you aren’t able to get off on it; it’s more to do with the fact that you are picturing someone else in your bed.
Keeping your eyes shut tightly, you whine when Soonyoung’s lips brush over your stomach as his fingers tug your shorts down so he can lay between your thighs. He gasps at the sight of your wet folds before pulling them apart with his thumbs so he can run his tongue from your entrance all the way to your clit, causing you to arch off the bed.
With a smirk, Soonyoung can’t help but let how you are reacting go to his head. All he can think about is how good he makes you feel and how you taste on his tongue. In his mind, this is the first time you have had someone's tongue on your pretty pussy in months and it’s his alone.
“Fuccckk….kitten. My sweet girl. So fucking messy. Getting juice all over my face. You should just come back to Tokyo with me.”
Shaking your head, you want him to stop talking so you push Soonyoung’s head back down between your legs so that his mouth is flush with your pussy. Two fingers work their way into your tight hole and Soonyoung groans around your clit, feeling how you clench down on them. He practically growls when your fingernails scratch at his scalp, feeling like you finally cum for him, though you made him work for it.
Coming up for air, Soonyoung chuckles, looking down at you as you hide your face. You look so cute and shy. You remind him of when the two of you first got together and how innocent you had been before he rammed his cock into you, much like he was going to do now.
Watching your mouth fall open in a moan, Soonyoung bites at his bottom lip as his hands hold to your hips as he thrusts into you hard and fast. He had missed you and honestly, there was no one else like you. Nothing could compare to how your pussy would clench down on his cock and hold him inside of you like you were trying to keep him forever. God, how he wanted you to keep him forever in that moment, even if his mind momentarily slipped to Aimi whining on his bed.
Shaking the thoughts from his mind, Soonyoung falls on top of you. His mouth finds your neck as he bites and sucks deep marks that he hopes will stay for at least long enough for you to remember where he was. His thrusts grow impatient and uneven until finally you hear his high pitched groan against your skin when Soonyoung cums inside of you.
Tears roll from your eyes and along your temples as your hand rests on your forehead, the other against his back, feeling him push his cum back inside of you. At one point in your life, you would have loved that feeling but you knew at that moment that you didn’t love him anymore or at least you didn’t love him as much as you once did. How were you supposed to tell the person who was the love of your life something like that?
You wake up alone the next morning, your eyes swollen from crying yourself silently to sleep the night before. Turning to look for Soonyoung, you find nothing but an empty bed and his jacket slung over the chair in the corner. Only the smell of food cooking in the kitchen lets you know that you aren’t truly alone.
Reaching for your phone, you sniff back fresh tears as you check for new messages, seeing a couple from Jihoon that actually work to calm you down.
Hoon 💗: Then I’ll come over once he’s gone
Hoon 💗: You still got me, honey
Smiling, you run your thumb over the screen and send back a simple heart emoji before turning in the direction of where Soonyoung’s phone dings. Glancing towards the door, you lean over the bed and pick up his phone, looking at the lock screen and seeing a few messages from Aimi.
Aimi: So bored without you
Aimi: OMG come back already…
Aimi: 🥺
You know that you should feel hurt or angry when you see the messages but instead you find yourself suddenly indifferent as you turn Soonyoung’s phone face down on his nightstand and slide out of bed. Slipping on your robe, you make your way out towards the kitchen, putting on a smile as he leans down to kiss the corner of your lips with a sigh.
“Good morning, gorgeous.”
Humming, you slide on to a bar stool and look at the food he has made, noting you would have to go grocery shopping once again. It was a nice gesture on his part but when you were practically living on your own most days, paying rent on your own while your boyfriend was off living his dreams, you couldn’t just buy anything and everything you wanted.
“What time is your flight?”
Wincing, Soonyoung turns to take the juice out of the fridge, glancing towards the microwave for the time being before tilting his head back and forth before looking at you for sympathy.
“I’ll have to leave here around 2ish if I wanna make it through security and all that international shit on time.”
Glancing at the clock, you lift your brows and sigh before leaning your chin on your arm as Soonyoung pours two cups of juice, watching you closely.
“You aren’t mad at me? I know it’s a short visit but I wanted to at least try. I’ve missed you so much, kitten.”
Shaking your head, you pick up a piece of bacon and chew on it with a sigh from your nose before meeting his eyes.
“You have to do what you have to do, Soonyoung.”
Your indifference causes Soonyoung’s brows to furrow and his stomach to twist with anxiety but he still tries to offer you a smile. Taking a sip of his juice, he pushes yours towards you before looking at the fridge and seeing a picture of you and Jihoon smiling, heads pushed together. It looks innocent enough but it still makes his heart hurt. Gesturing towards it, Soonyoung clears his throat and licks his lips of any remaining juice.
“You and Jihoon have gotten pretty close.”
Looking at the picture, you can’t help but smile, remembering the day Jihoon went with you to the farmer’s market and how he hadn’t complained a single time. Shrugging at Soonyoung’s words, you look down at the food in front of you, pushing around the eggs before sighing softly.
“He’s a good person. He’s good to me. Don’t you want someone to be good to me?”
Narrowing his eyes, Soonyoung bites at his bottom lip at the accusation that seems to be lingering right under your question but instead of giving into his anger, he just looks down at his own plate of food and lets out a long, drawn out breath.
“Course I do, babe. I love you more than anything.”
Rolling your eyes, you think back to the text messages from Aimi and mutter under your breath that you doubt that, making Soonyoung lean his head in towards you over the counter in confusion.
“What did you say, baby? I couldn’t hear you.”
“Nothing, just said... I love you too.”
You had watched Soonyoung repack his carry-on and grab a couple of things out of your shared closet before he kissed you goodbye with a concerned look on his face. You only offer him a half smile, leaning against the door frame, as he looks back, telling you he will let you know when he lands and how much he loves you.
“Mmkay, have a safe flight.”
Pausing, Soonyoung licks his lips, lifting his hand to block the sun as he looks at you, trying to remember what it felt like when you were head over heels for him. Something was different. He knew it and so did you but neither of you were willing to say it.
Nodding as his gaze drops to the ground, Soonyoung can only let out a half amused laugh, realizing you hadn’t told him that you loved him back. Maybe it had been a mistake or just because you seemed so tired, but looking up and meeting your eyes—seeing the tears even from halfway down the driveway—he knew it wasn’t.
“Okay, babe.”
If this had been the old you—the old Soonyoung—you would have walked to the end of the driveway with him. You would have begged him not to go back and told him how much you loved him—to the end of the earth and back. But that wasn’t who either of you were anymore, so instead, you watched from the door as the car drove down the road before turning back inside and closing the door.
Normally, you would have shed tears and found yourself curled up in bed with your cellphone clenched against your chest, waiting for him to message you about his flight but this time you knew it was different. You felt like you could breathe. There was a sense of pain mixed with your relief—such a strange feeling that you couldn’t name.
Jihoon had waited half an hour to come over after Soonyoung had left for his flight. He had sent his texts to his best friend, wishing him a safe flight and all the usual pleasantries but at the heart of it, he was waiting to get back to you. It had been too long since he had seen your face in person and no matter how selfish he was feeling, Jihoon couldn’t make himself feel guilty about it anymore. You were his.
Using the key you had made for him, Jihoon unlocked your door and dropped his things on the side table before meeting your eyes from the couch, feeling relief wash over him. You were like a breath of fresh air.
“Hey, honey…”
Only when Jihoon speaks will your tears finally fall. You close your eyes and bring your hands up to cover your face, not wanting him to see you upset but he is the one who has seen you that way the most lately. Arms wrap around you and Jihoon kisses the side of your head as he whispers, It’s okay, only to feel you shake in his embrace. He isn’t sure what you are upset about, but it doesn’t actually matter. All that matters is that he’s going to make it better.
“They offered me a full position at the studio.”
Soonyoung sighed into his words as he looked down at his hand as Aimi slid hers into his. He wasn’t sure if he loved her but she felt nice. At least sometimes she did. Other times, she felt like guilt and regret, but today she felt like a friend and a lover.
“Are you gonna take it?”
She could be hopeful. For Aimi, this was starting to turn into love. She loved how Soonyoung looked at her sometimes and how he would hold her after he would fuck her into his mattress. Other times, she was reminded that she wasn’t you. She had no disillusion with who she was and what she was doing, but clearly Soonyoung wasn’t happy and neither were you.
Shrugging, Soonyoung leans back against his headboard, letting Aimi rest against his chest, her head against his jaw as he traces her fingers like she used to do with you. He missed moments like this with you, but he didn’t know you anymore. The woman he had fallen in love with was a million miles away, not just in distance but in other ways.
“Maybe…I dunno. I gotta talk to Y/N.” Shifting uncomfortably when he says your name, Soonyoung takes a deep breath and tightens his fingers around Aimi’s. “I go back home in a month. That’s when this job officially ends.”
Frowning to herself, Aimi looks out at the city skyline and says a silent prayer to herself that maybe Soonyoung will change his mind and stay. Maybe you will tell him to stay, but she keeps it to herself and only nods before meeting his eyes.
“Okay, well, whatever you decide, you know where I am.”
Soonyoung can hear the innocence in the girl’s voice and it almost makes him want to laugh. Not at Aimi or at her innocence but more at how, even in the situation, she seems so perfect. Brushing his lips over hers, Soonyoung takes in a breath of her perfume while at the same time letting it wash over his senses and push you further from his mind. She was right; he knew where she was but what he didn’t know was where you were.
You moan Jihoon’s name, only for him to swallow it with his kiss as his hands slide over your hips. Jihoon was enjoying the feeling of you sitting on his cock but each time you clenched around him, he felt like he was going to explode.
“Fuck, Y/N…”
Rolling your hips down over Jihoon, you dig your nails into his shoulders as he rests his head back against the headboard with a long, deep groan. You loved riding Jihoon, especially when you were at his place. Here were no pictures of Soonyoung, nothing you could accidentally make eye contact with as you asked for Jihoon to make you forget.
Jihoon was so good at making you forget. He was even better at making you want something different. Something that you didn’t think you could ever have because you belonged to someone else. Someone else was in love with you and you had made a promise to wait for him.
“Baby, if you don’t slow down, I’m gonna cum first.”
Shaking your head at Jihoon’s words, you feel his fingers dig into your hips as you whine against his jaw, not wanting to stop. Gritting his teeth, Jihoon groans your name once again before he feels himself unable to hold back anymore. You rest your forehead against his as you watch Jihoon’s mouth drop open and feel the warmth of his cum start to spill into you.
Catching his breath, Jihoon shakes his head with a wince, feeling you rock your hips over his softening cock. He knew you had a hard day and he didn’t mind letting you get out your frustrations in any way you wanted to but he still liked to make you feel good.
Lifting his hands, Jihoon shifts you back from him and cups your cheek to make you look at him as he licks his lips. You feel your cheeks instantly start to burn at his attention and his intense gaze, his eyes studying you as his fingers brush sweat from your temple.
“You wanna talk about it?”
Leaning your head back from him, you shake your head no, making Jihoon let out a disapproving breath. He knew there was a lot on your mind but he could only make you say as much as you were willing to. Running his thumb along your jaw, Jihoon nods, glancing towards his nightstand to see where your phone is plugged in. The light draws his eye but more so Soonyoung’s face, letting you know he is calling you.
“Soonyoung’s calling…”
Jihoon watches your eyes move to your phone and the way your body stiffens against his. You could ignore it; you had before in other circumstances but he hadn’t called today and you felt like you were made of glass.
A few more seconds pass before you slide from Jihoon’s lap and sit on the side of the bed before answering your phone. You swallow hard into your words, feeling Jihoon’s hand resting against your hip like an anchor.
“Hello?”
Soonyoung leans against his balcony door, glancing towards his bed, where Aimi sighs in her sleep as you finally answer your phone. You didn’t sound overjoyed to hear from him, but that was his usual greeting—it still hurt.
“Hey, baby. I just…”
You listen as Soonyoung scoffs into a sad laugh as you furrow your brows, trying to figure out how you are supposed to feel or respond. Shaking your head, you start to speak when he continues.
“Just—uh, I wanted to check in. Didn’t talk to you much today or yesterday. I mean, fuck, let’s be honest, we haven’t talked much since I got back.”
He wasn’t wrong. You could count the number of phone calls on two hands over the span of the last month and the text messages were not much better. Most were either one of you saying you were thinking of the other or checking in, but every time it felt like keeping up appearances.
“I’m…I’m sorry. I can try to do better if you want. I’ve just been busy, Soonyoung.”
Shaking his head, Soonyoung bites at his lip when you try to apologize and come up with an excuse without actually giving any real excuse. He knew he wasn’t any better but once again, it still hurt.
“No, it’s fine. I get it. I’m busy, too. Always fucking busy, right? That’s us…”
Tears sting your eyes, making your vision blurry as you hear the hurt in Soonyoung’s voice. Closing your eyes, the tears fall over your cheeks, only for you to try to sniff them back as quietly as possible. Hearing your tears, Jihoon sits up, moving closer to you, trying to pull you back towards him, only for you to shake your head.
When Soonyoung hears you crying, his own tears finally fall. Nodding, he lifts his free hand to wipe at his cheek with a groan before sniffing back the tears and pushing off the wall.
“But I’ll be home in a month, right? So we can just see what happens. Right, Y/N?”
You can hear the hope in his voice layered with all that sorrow and it only serves to break your heart more as you shake your head and shrug. Licking the salty tears from your lips, you lift your arm to wipe away your own tears before making yourself calm down.
“Yeah, a month, Soonie.”
The name Soonie makes Soonyoung close his eyes and drop his head. It used to make him smile when you’d call him the cute name and tell him how much you loved him but now it feels like his heart is breaking.
“Okay…goodnight, baby.”
Leaning your head back, you take a breath, letting it out as you hear the finality in Soonyoung’s words. The tone of his voice makes you wonder how hard he will try to stay in touch before he shows up back at home.
“Night. I love—”
Hearing the phone disconnect before you finish your sentence tells you everything you need to know.
Jihoon couldn’t help but watch the days tick by. Never in his life could he remember a month going by as quickly as this one seemed to. He wanted to hold on to each and every minute he had left with this little life he had made up with you but every single day passing was a reminder that it was ending.
He wondered, selfishly, if he just told you how he felt if you’d tell Soonyoung what was happening and ask him not to come home. But then he’d be hit with guilt. That never stopped his feelings or the urge to tell you how much he cared about you.
Holding you in his arms, your arm draped over his stomach as you traced some design made up in your head on his forearm, Jihoon watched you under the moonlight. There was less than a week left before Soonyoung would be back, laying where he was now. The thought of it made his stomach twist and his heart feel like it was breaking.
“Y/N, honey…”
You smile softly at the pet name, your lips pulling up against Jihoon’s skin, before you glance up at him, seeing questions in his eyes. That look had been there for a while now but it was as if he were afraid to say anything, afraid you’d run away. Maybe now was the time, before there was no time left.
“What…well—what happens when Soonyoung gets home?”
Your smile fades at Jihoon’s question because that wasn’t what you thought he was going to ask. You weren’t sure what he was going to ask but you hadn’t expected it to be about Soonyoung. Swallowing hard, you lay your head back down and look out your window towards the sky as if some sort of answer lies in the stars but nothing helps.
“I–Jihoon…I don’t know. I guess things just…”
Lifting your hand from his arm, you gesture into the air, trying to express your words as Jihoon’s eyes follow them, but it only serves to confuse him and make his heart beat faster. Shaking his head, Jihoon shifts under you, making you sit up as he does. You tilt your head with a whine, feeling his hands on either side of your cheeks as his eyes search for yours.
“Guess things, what? Go back to how they were. Seriously, Y/N? Is that what you fucking want?”
Closing your eyes, you feel tears welling up in your eyes at the questions leaving Jihoon’s mouth. You knew what you wanted the answers to be but life wasn’t always that simple. Holding your face still but gently, Jihoon swallows back his emotion with a curse under his breath as he watches your tears stream down your cheeks.
“Baby...come on. Look me in the eyes and tell me that you still love him. I mean, fuck, look me in the eye and tell me that you don’t love me!”
Lifting your hands, you hold Jihoon’s wrists as you keep your eyes shut tightly to try to save yourself from hurting him or lying. When Jihoon whines your name, tears are evident in his voice. You just shake your head and finally meet his eyes.
“It’s not that simple, Jihoon! Fuck! I wish it was! I want it to be, but god, it’s just not!”
Dropping his hands into your lap, Jihoon blinks tears from his eyes as he nods, understanding what you are trying to say. You watch as he turns his head away from you and furrows his brows before taking his hands from you and sliding off the bed. Your heart tightens in your chest as you reach for his hand, only for Jihoon to move it from your reach.
“I’m gonna head home.”
You shake your head, moving to your knees on the bed, a whine of Jihoon’s name on your lips when he turns back towards you to take your face back in his hands. Leaning to rest his forehead against yours, Jihoon sniffs back his tears as you cling to his forearms and whisper that you don’t want him to go.
“I have to, honey. Things go back to how they were, right?”
Kissing you softly, Jihoon only lingers for a moment before he presses his lips to your forehead and leaves you watching him from your bed, tears streaming down your face. You listen to the sound of your front door opening and closing before emotion ripples through your body and you find you can’t hold yourself upright anymore.
There was heartache when it came to Soonyoung but this felt worse. Now the walls that had built up around you were shattering around you and there was no safety left from the storm. You knew you had created the storm—though you hadn’t created it alone—it was yours to name and it was yours to weather.
You had forgotten how little Soonyoung had taken with him to Tokyo when he had left a year ago. You listened to the sound of water running as Soonyoung took his shower just down the hall from where you stood, unpacking his suitcase, bit by bit.
There are so many memories attached to items and then there are so many new things that you don’t recognize at all. For the few hours that Soonyoung had been home, the conversation had been light. There had been discussion about what you had planned for dinner and how his flight had gone.
“Y/N…uh babe…”
Soonyoung’s voice pulls you back to the present as you glance over your shoulder to look at him, his towel around his waist, a look of confusion on his face as he moves further into the room. Swallowing hard, he laughs awkwardly before gesturing to his suitcase on the bed.
“I can do that. You don't... just leave my shit alone.”
Gently moving your hands from one of his shirts, Soonyoung pulls the suitcase closer to him. Taking a step back, you scoff at your boyfriend before shaking your head and running your hand over your hair. You could feel the tension thickening in the air even as you turned away, leaving him in the bedroom alone with his shit.
Soonyoung hadn’t meant to upset you, but he wasn’t used to you being in his space anymore. He was used to you going through his things anymore. Groaning under his breath as he listens to the sound of you opening and closing cabinets in the kitchen louder than necessary, Soonyoung works to get dressed before staring at his suitcases, trying to decide where to start.
The idea was simple, the task seemed impossible. Put the clothes away and live like he had never left. But that wasn’t going to be so easy in a place where he didn’t feel like he belonged anymore.
You weren’t looking for things to annoy you about Soonyoung; however, it seemed that everything did now that he was home. You were reminded that he frequently forgot to put down the toilet seat and that he didn’t always put the lid back on the toothpaste. So as you sat on the couch near him after a silent dinner, he could feel the chill in the air, making him finally pause the unwatched movie on the TV.
“I was watching that.”
Shaking his head, Soonyoung turns to look at you, reaching for your hand, only to feel you start to pull away. He had expected it, but it still hurt. He was inches from you and he still felt like he was a world away.
“You weren’t, Y/N. You have been pissed off at me since I got out of the shower.”
Shrugging, you let Soonyoung run his thumb along your palm as he tries to calm you down, but all you can think about is how much you miss Jihoon and how it’s been days since he’s answered your texts. You can just feel how much your heart is in your throat because you can’t have him where Soonyoung is right now.
“No…I–”
“Just stop! I–fuck, Y/N! I’m home and it’s the same. I could be across the world and we’d be doing the same shit. So, when do we just stop? I can’t do this anymore. You–dammit…”
You stop talking as Soonyoung yells at you, his hand dropping yours as he leans back to run his hand over his face. You watch as tears collect in his eyes, all the emotion that he has been holding back rushing to the surface as he thinks about what he is doing and what it is going to mean. Gesturing towards you, Soonyoung feels like panicking and taking back his words before he even says them, but he already knows it’s too late.
“I fucked up. I…I–I slept with someone else, Y/N and I—”
Shaking his head, Soonyoung watches as your brows furrow and the tears that had been collecting in your eyes fall down over your cheeks. Lowering his head, he reaches back out for your hand, taking it into his before meeting your eyes and taking a breath before speaking.
“I’m sorry —”
“I don’t think that I love you anymore, Soonyoung.”
Your words cut off his, making Soonyoung stop suddenly. Perhaps he knew that you didn’t love him anymore but hearing it out loud felt like a bomb going off in his chest. You feel his hands tremble around yours as he lets out a shaky breath and nods, trying to form the right words only to start and stop making you speak up first.
“I slept with Jihoon. I–I’m in love with Jihoon. I’m sorry…”
Letting go of your hand, Soonyoung rubs his hand over his mouth when you confess what you have done to him. He knew the two of you had gotten close, and now knowing he wasn’t so crazy for being suspicious made Soonyoung’s heart drop into his stomach.
“What the fuck, Y/N…”
It’s you that reach out for Soonyoung’s hand, only for him to pull them away harshly, his eyes meeting yours with disdain before they soften slightly. He knew he was being hypocritical. He had done exactly what you had done but it felt worse because it was Jihoon. It felt personal because it was his best friend and his girlfriend.
“I thought...fuck, I don't know what I fucking thought. That I’d tell you what a fuck up I was, and you and I would start over.” Sighing into a groan, Soonyoung leans his head forward, feeling you run your hand over his cheek as he continues. “We both fucked up, Y/N. Real bad…”
Looking up to try to stop more tears, you only feel more fall and drip along your neck as you nod along with Soonyoung’s words. The truth was painful, but it was better than the lies that you had used to build up some fake security around yourself to hide from the pain.
“We just…we fell out of love, Soonyoung.”
Sitting in silence, seconds turn to minutes and minutes turn to an hour before Soonyoung finally stands up and draws your attention with him. You watch as the man shrugs and wipes his tears from his cheeks before he holds out his hands as if laying out everything on the table.
“I was offered the job at the studio as a full-time position. I had told them I was going to think about it… but I–I’m gonna take it, Y/N.”
You can only nod as Soonyoung lets out a breath before shaking his head as if that’s all he has left to say and walks from the room, leaving you alone on the couch. The emotions you find are like waves in moments of extreme change. You are washed over with relief from telling the truth and then pushed back with pain from the end of a relationship, only to be washed over with the feeling of hope.
It was raining the morning that Soonyoung left for the airport and you were left with an extra set of keys. You had spent time walking around the rooms, picking up the last bits of your relationship. It seemed that with each picture you collected or each stuffed animal you put away, the rain would fall harder along with your tears, making you only think of one person.
Jihoon.
He didn’t know what had happened and you knew you had put him through enough. Just the thought of him as you moved into the kitchen, seeing the picture of the two of you at the farmer’s market, was enough to break your resolve and cause you to find yourself less than an hour later at his door, shivering from the rain.
The storm had only gotten worse throughout the day so hearing his doorbell and your voice calling his name from his door made Jihoon’s heart drop to his stomach. A list of reasons you could be at his door came to his mind as he made his way to you. Soonyoung had been in an accident, you had been hurt, something terrible had happened, or maybe just—no, you couldn’t be there for him.
Opening his door, Jihoon’s breath is taken away by seeing you after so many days, your hair and clothes soaked as you shiver from the rain. Grabbing your hand, he pulled you in and looked you over for any signs of injury but all he could find were your tears mixing with the rain on your cheeks.
“What are you doing, Y/N? Why…why didn’t you grab a coat or something? You’re gonna get sick…”
Shaking your head, you just smile, wrapping your arms around Jihoon’s neck, pulling him close to you, and making him take in a deep breath as you suddenly hug him. He could feel his clothes becoming instantly soaked, but he couldn’t find any reason to care as he wrapped his arms around you and held you close as you clung to him.
“I’m so sorry, Jihoon. I’m so stupid. I love you so much.”
Confusion is what hits Jihoon first when you tell him that you love him. He thinks he is hearing things but you say it again and Jihoon holds you even tighter before letting out a shaky breath.
“I love you too. Tell me what’s going on, honey.”
Letting Jihoon finally move away from you so he can look at your face once again, you lean into his touch as you recount the past couple of days. You explain the fight with Soonyoung and the confessions. Wincing at the idea of Soonyoung’s pain, Jihoon’s brows furrow as he runs his hand along your cheek before resting his forehead against yours.
“He’s right, we did this all fucking wrong, baby. I hate that it happened like this, but... I don’t regret it. I can’t…”
Nodding along with Jihoon, you grab at his shirt, pulling him back close to you as you tell him you love him again and claim your first kiss in days from him. Jihoon’s brows furrow deeply, feeling your lips on his, making him want more after missing you so much.
With a small grunt on your lips, Jihoon tugs you close and lifts you, letting you wrap your legs around his waist so he can carry you down the hall towards his bedroom. Hearing you whine into the kiss, he smiles and shakes his head, only to nip at your lips when he turns into the bathroom and places you on the counter.
“Stay right here…”
Jihoon smirks to himself upon hearing you whisper his name, your fingers clinging to his shirt even as he pulls away from you to lean into the shower, turning it on. You watch as steam starts to fill the room and as Jihoon tugs his shirt over his head before kicking his sweatpants off, leaving him bare in front of you. There was something different about seeing him now, his body on display for you as his blonde hair started to fall from its low bun. You knew he was yours and he was seeing you as his.
“Gotta get you outta those wet clothes, honey. You are gonna get sick; I don’t want that.”
Biting at your lip, you lift your arms as Jihoon tugs at your shirt, pulling it up and over your head. You close your eyes, leaning your head back and relishing the feeling of his soft lips pressing to the swell of your breasts over your bra as his fingers work the clasp loose.
“Mm, not gonna get sick, Hoonie. Oh, fuck…”
You whine out a moan, leaning back against the mirror, when Jihoon’s mouth wraps around your nipple, your bra falling to the floor. Smiling against your skin, Jihoon glances up even at such a close distance to watch your mouth fall open in a moan of his name as he uses his free hand to roll the other hardening bud between his index finger and thumb.
With a soft popping sound, Jihoon lets go of your breasts, moving from one to the other, letting you squirm on the counter with him between your thighs. Sliding your fingers over his arms and the other hand through his hair, you arch your chest towards Jihoon’s mouth as you mutter a quiet plea for more, telling him how much you missed him.
“Yeah? Did you miss me? How much?”
Fingers push into the top of your pants as you lift your hips, letting Jihoon work them down your legs. You try to articulate your words to let Jihoon know how much you missed him, but just incoherently mutters his name and please fall from your lips, making him smirk as his hands push your thighs apart, letting him see how wet you have gotten just from his teasing.
“Shit…You are so pretty. How am I gonna let you go home?”
Shaking your head, you meet Jihoon’s eyes as he moves down to his knees in front of the bathroom counter, pulling you to the edge. The warmth of his tongue running from your entrance to your clit sends a shockwave through your body. Your skin erupts with chill bumps and your toes point as you try to lift your hips from the counter.
Pushing your hips down with one arm, Jihoon groans to your taste as if committing it to memory just in case something were to happen again and he were to not get you back into his bed. Your fingers dig into his hair, feeling Jihoon’s mouth wrap around your clit, only for him to lap his tongue around the bundle of nerves, making your thighs shake.
“Don’t wanna…ah! Don’t wanna go home without you, Jihoon. Fuck!”
Your words almost cause Jihoon to pull back from what he is doing, but your hand keeps his head between your legs as your orgasm rips through you and your cum begins to drip on to his waiting tongue. Groaning at your taste, Jihoon uses his lips to pull at your soft folds, listening to the sounds of your whines as he overstimulates you until you start to close your thighs around his head. Only then does he smile against your pussy, placing one last kiss on your wet folds before standing back up to claim your lips, letting you taste yourself in his mouth.
Your words hadn’t gone by without him noticing, but Jihoon still had much on his mind and wanted in you. Feeling you gasp on his lips, Jihoon picks you up once more and walks with you into his shower, letting the door close behind him. You sigh against his lips as he puts you up against the tile wall, letting the warm water rain down over the both of you.
Smiling against your lips, Jihoon slides his hands along your legs, letting you stand on one, keeping the other at his hip as he speaks between kisses. You can only furrow your brows and let out a moan, feeling his cock slide into you slowly. The stretch is welcomed and intense as Jihoon pins you against the shower wall.
“You don’t want to go home without me?”
Shaking your head, you gasp, feeling Jihoon bottom out inside of you. Fingers scratch along the back of your leg towards your knee as Jihoon moves his kisses to your jaw and then your neck, leaving bites and marks on his way to your ear as you moan his name at your answer.
“Uh huh… miss you. Please, oh fuck… don’t stop.”
With your earlobe between his lips, Jihoon smiles, feeling you clench down on his cock when he thrusts into you hard and deep. He wasn’t in a rush. He wanted to feel every bit of you around him and he wanted to make sure you felt every inch of him as if he were made for you. Jihoon wanted to fill you full of him in every single way, even if he wouldn’t say it out loud to you in the moment, as his hand moved over your stomach, gently pushing down over your lower abdomen.
“I’m not gonna stop, baby… fuck…I wanna be this deep in you all the fucking time.”
Jihoon had dirty talk with you before, especially when you had asked him to be rough with you, but this was different. You could feel how deep he was inside of you and you could almost feel how true his words were. You wanted as much as he did. Laying your hand over his, you gasp as Jihoon’s eyes meet yours with a hard thrust, sending you over the edge once again.
“Good girl, good fucking girl. Cum for me, honey.”
Watching you fall apart for him was almost better than anything Jihoon could physically experience until your walls clenched around him like a vice. Your hips roll towards him and Jihoon is a goner. Any intention he had to hold back his own climax is gone as he groans your name and bites at your lips, pushing his cum into you with each thrust.
By the time you and Jihoon catch your breath, the water starts to go cold. Smiling on your lips, Jihoon slides his tongue against yours for one more deep kiss that makes your mind go blank before he has you on your own two feet once again.
You rely on him to keep you upright as he laughs when you start to complain about the cold water as he finishes cleaning between your legs. Jihoon just looks at you with love and wonder as he helps you out of the shower and wraps a towel around you, knowing you are his.
When you finally wake up in Jihoon’s bed a few hours later, you are happy to find him beside you, his arm under your head, as the moon shines through his window. Turning towards him, you can’t help the urge to run your fingers over his cheek and nose, making Jihoon flinch at your touch and open his eyes slowly to find you looking at him.
“Mm, why aren’t you still asleep, honey?”
Sliding closer to Jihoon, you let him hold you in his arms and press his lips to your forehead. The guilt that got you here washed away with the rain of the storm that you had created. He had weathered it with you and kept you safe even when you felt like you were drowning.
“Was just missing you. I love you, Jihoon.”
Closing his eyes, Jihoon shakes his head and sighs tiredly as you kiss his jaw. He was never going to get tired of hearing that.
“I love you too, honey.”
© onlymingyus - all rights reserved. Reposting/modifying of any fic, or pieces of original writings posted on this blog is not allowed. Translations not allowed.
#seventeen smut#woozi smut#hoshi smut#svthub#svt smut#jihoon smut#soonyoung smut#seventeen angst#woozi angst#hoshi angst#svt angst#woozi x reader#seventeen x reader#hoshi x reader#jihoon x reader#soonyoung x reader#seventeen toxic#seventeen fluff
424 notes
·
View notes
Text
Jungkook- ff recs masterlist 🔞
So here's my fav Jungkook ffs of all time plus a MUST READ compilation 💌.
All the recommended ffs are 18+ so MDNI!!
S: smut | A: angst | F: fluff | ❤️: extreme favs
(fics are not ordered in any specific order of preference and neither do they entertain infidelity or any major triggering themes 🙃)
Starting off with the 2 most "SEVEN" mv inspired one shots I've read till now -
■ Night after night by @brown-bi-beautiful ❤️ ( S, A, F )
■ Devoted to trouble by @jeonsweetpea (S, slight A, F)
Seven days a week by @jjkeverlast (S, slight A, F)
Thirteen rounds by @moni-logues (S)
Slow motion by @rerefundslocals(S, A, F)
@personasintro 's masterlist ❤️
Legit ALL her ffs are TOP NOTCH. So here's link to her entire masterlist. Fav author for a reason 💜
Ps - Mutual help & Away from you are Ultimate lovee!
Stay with me by @jungk0oksthighs ❤️(S, A, F)
Reminder by @dollfaceksj ❤️ (S, A, F)
Over wine (Ongoing) by @koocycle (S, A)
There's no way by @redjoonie (S, slight A, F)
Seven ways to sunday (Ongoing) by @jeonjcngkook (S)
Bad Omega, Sweet Omega JJK by @helenazbmrskai (S, A)
Drabble collection by @onlyswan (F)
Office break by @vminizzle (S)
Two point five by @bratkook (S, F)
My you by @wnderkoo (S, slight A, F)
This is how we break by @ahundredtimesover (S, A)
Unplanned night by @vminizzle ❤️ (S)
Rolling stone by @kooktrash (S, A)
4-7-8 by @jiminrings (S, heavy A, F)
Sleepless nights by @wnderkoo (S, F)
Backstage quickies by @btsqualityy ❤️ (S)
So good by @ggukiepie ❤️ (S)
Lost on you by @letjungcoook7 (S)
Cramped quarters by @btsqualityy (S)
Kink series by @btsqualityy ❤️ (S)
Bts reactions by @cheolhub (S)
Early riser by @moni-logues (S)
Bf!Jk drabble by @letjungcoook7 (S)
Standing next to you by @back2bluesidex (S)
On my mind by @angelguk ❤️ (S)
Ceo!Jk one shot by @letjungcoook7 (S, slight A)
All over again by @jungkookstatts ❤️ (S, F)
Return the favor by @back2bluesidex (S, F)
Jk!drabble by @borathae (S)
The bet by @letjungcoook7 (S)
Bf!Jk (kinda break up au) by @letjungcoook7 (S, A)
Bf!Jungkook by @jungkookstatts ❤️ (S, F)
Cherry flavored by @jungkookstatts ❤️ (S, F)
Black dye by @mercurygguk (S, F)
When the end comes by @oddinary4bts ❤️ (S, F, huge A) happy ending tho
Down on you by @ki-yomii ❤️ (S)
I want you to stay by @ahundredtimesover (Ongoing)
Birthday boy by @jeonfics (S)
Wishing for you by @kookiestarlight (S, A, F)
Guilty Pleasures (Ongoing) by @kookslastbutton (S, A)
The violence of the dog days by @youarewhatyoulove-blog ❤️ (S, F)
#jungkook#jungkook smut#bts#bts jungkook#ff recs#masterlist#jungkook masterlist#smut#bts jk#jk#jk smut#jimin#namjoon#yoongi#taehyung#jhope#angst#fluff#exes to lovers#strangers to lovers#married au#friends to lovers#fwb to lovers#updated#New faves#jungkook recs#jungkook x reader
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
PILLOW TALK ⎯ f.toji x reader
SYNOPSIS ⎯ You and Toji have been friends with benefits for months.But your find yourself breaking the very first rule that Toji had set. Beneath the surface of laughter and stolen kisses, a storm of unspoken emotions brews. You have to leave this fragile arrangement...to save yourself from getting hurt from the one sided longing (or so you thought.)
GENRE: angst to fluff!
INFO: fem reader!, a lone '.' indicates a short timeskip!, Non jujutsu au!, Megumi doesn't exist yet (sorry 'gumi!)
WARNINGS: fwb dynamics, situationship, brief mentions of Getou x reader, Gojo being a boy bsf, reader is a university student living alone, age-gap, mentions of seggs (obv but nothing happens cause we holy here.). reader feels guilty, a lot of flashback between the lines, screaming, toji being emotionally constipated, so many metaphors, "Cause I love you!" angry confession.
WC: 3k+ (get comfy lol)
Your breaths come in short, hallow gasps, that familiar ache settling in your lower body as you sigh, looking at Toji who rolls down to the space next to you. Both of your breaths fogging the nipping cold.
Seconds turn to minutes, the air in the room thick with the smell of sweat and pleasure. Your frayed breaths soon return to normal, your eyes start drooping in exhaustion.
“Toji..” you mumble turning to face him. He’s lying on the bed with his hand behinds his head.
“Hm? he hums, his gravely voice knocking on the ventricles of your heart.
You don’t reply, just silently stare at his the chisel of his face, the arch of his nose, the thin lines of his lips and the scar that adorns the surface.
“What’s up?” His voice interjects your train of thoughts. He tilts his head over to look at you.
Your eyes feel heavy. Limbs are cold and his heat⏤is a magnet. "Cold." you whisper out, your fingers mindlessly pressing on the pads of his larger, thicker digits.
His onyx eyes are fixed on you. Not a twitch on his face when you play with his fingers. Toji sits up for second. Grabbing the hem of blanket that rests on both of your waists and draws it up until your shoulders, before lying down.
You could only faintly make out his expression from the nightlight. His eyes softening a sliver. But it’s gone before you can comprehend it. Makes you wonder if it ever existed at all or if it was your weary, exhausted and post dopamine rush brain playing tricks.
“You’re starin’ a lot today.” He smirks, an uncouth remark of 'did I do you so good?' Or 'I know I’m hot' just sitting on his lips, but he decides against saying it.
"Sorry." You mumble. The apology cascades down your lips so easily you wonder if it was truly for the staring or something more.
Toji nods slowly, deciding against saying anything, but flinches when your fingers brush against his forearm. He doesn't shift away repulsuvely (to your surprise).
Lays still, starting at the ceiling while your hand is just barely resting on hand⏤ for the faintest human contact. And before you know it, the exhaustion of all the physical exertion tonight, lulls you into sleep quickly.
Toji stays awake for a little longer, shifting to his side as he silently observes you. The way your lips are parted a little, hair tussled from before. He reaches to brush a strand of your hair behind your ear, before he catches himself midway. His eyebrows furrow and he stares at his own hand at the strange instinct that had bubbled in him.
He gulps deeply as he stares at your sleeping self for a couple of seconds longer before he sits up, wearing his clothes that were tossed onto the floor. He stands still in the centre of your room, taking a deep breath, pushing his hair back. He looks back at you and leaves, closing the door behind him, slowly but making sure its locked.
Toji sighs and takes his phone out of his pocket, walking into the street, his dms flooded with messages of girls.
He frowns and closes his phone again, not bothering to read them. Until recently Toji would have replied to most of them...nowadays he doesn't find the energy or the will to do it.
"How did my life get so monotonous?" he says to himself as he walks home. He wonders what happened that he so fixated upon one girl. he says its monotonous, but oddly he's not complaining.
"Must be the age catchin' up." He thinks. His face and body are intact to the wind of aging, everything the same as it was a few years ago except the few greying hair on his head. Not that he minds, its bound to happen one day.
Toji closes the door of his house behind him as he flops down on the couch. Its cold. He wonders when he got used to the warmth of your bed. Its dangerous for him. He has to end this before it gets out of hand. He won't go to your apartment again he decided.
.
The night drowned and the day arose, the sound of your 3 consecutive alarms rang loudly in the studio apartment.
Reaching out your hand instinctively to the other side before a shiver ripples through you at the cold mattress brushing against your skin. Ah, he left again.
Getting up you decide to finish your chores, getting ready for university.
There's a faint emptiness that lingers in your chest throughout the day. The time ticks and hours continue to spend. Its uncomfortable and yet you are unable to point out where it is coming from.
"What's wrong?" A voice interjects. You look over to Gojo, sitting on the desk behind you as the professor continues in the background.
"What do you mean?" You hum mindlessly.
"Don't hit me with that bs, this is the 8th time you have sighed in the past two minutes." He huffs, crossing his arms over his chest. You don't reply.
"Toji left you high and dry last night?" he snickers and you pass him a sharp look.
You and Toji first met up through Gojo on New year's eve. And it was impossible not to be drawn in by Toji's aura : scalding fire in a desolate winter. And you were moth, a moth to the flame.
"Oh so it is about Toji." He whistles lowly, looking around before he leans in. "What happened?"
You sigh. How are you supposed to explain it to him when you yourself don't know what you are feeling. Its just a sickly feeling that is leaving you so confused.
"Dunno." You whisper out and he crooks his eyebrows, wanting you to elaborate. You look at him, "Its complicated."
"Hell yeah it is," he scoffs, "I told you not to get involved with him."
“I know, Satoru.” You huff in annoyance. You did not want him to chastise you further with his words.
“But what exactly is the problem?” He ushers.
"I- don't know how to explain it, but I feel empty? I hate when it ends like I know he put on the rules and stuff about how no cuddling, no kissing...but its feeling meaningless. Its supposed to be no strings attached but now there's a ball of yarn." You groan, burying your face in your hands.
Gojo's eyebrows furrow for a second before he looks at you. "Get out of it."
"What?"
"Get rid of this dynamic before its too late." He murmurs.
"Why?"
"Y/N." He says incredulously. "You are catching feelings."
Catching feelings? Entirely impossible. There is no way you were catching feelings for Toji. There was no way you yearning for an embrace post coitus, or wanting him to tenderly caress you, to want a kiss actually meant you were catching feelings, right?
... shit
"Shit, Satoru..." you gape, slapping a hand to your mouth as your heart beat sped up. What you thought were feelings like empathy and just care, were much deeper⏤ Satoru helped you have this epiphany.
Gojo's eyes soften before he sighs, "Move on. You should go on some dates, that would help you actually get a view how many better guys are there." He pauses, "You should go on a date with Suguru."
"Suguru?" You ask quizzically. The guy was in the pol.sci major of your university⏤ him and Satoru go way back, best friends forever.
"He always seems interested in you, I can set you guys up, I’ll give him your number.” He says and you nod, almost defeatedly.
The lecture soon gets over. You pack your things and leave the campus, but your mind is adrift down the memory lane.
The first time you and Toji hooked up is a vivid memory. It was a summer night, sometime in Feb. Gojo had invited you over to his house for a party. The music was loud, the liquor pounding in your ears, your body swaying to the beats.
And his eyes.
His eyes, oh my god, they embraced you- undressed you. They called to you and you couldn't resist like Orpheus couldn't help but look at Eurydice. And before you knew you it, the two of you had ended up behind closed doors.
The way his hands burned upon your flesh, that smirk that gutted you inside out and the butterflies that erupted when he said in his hoary voice, hovering over you. “This isn’t going to be a one time thing sweetheart.” He had whispered, “But let’s set rules for this time and all the fun times to come:”
He had said and you had whined at how he started talking leaving you half naked at which he had obnoxiously laughed.
“Rule 1: no falling in love.” He murmured, the cicatrix decorating the corner of his lip, raising slightly when he spoke the words you have now come to dread.
How did it come to this, you wonder. How did you end up catching feelings for a man so brutish in his ways, so twisted in his deeds?
It must be because of how he restraints himself every time...no it must be cause of the little convos you have when you are all wound up. If you try to remember there were so many days affection and warmth for him had erupted from you.
The day he told you the story behind his scars. The way your heart cracked at the fogginess in his eyes, the coldness in his words. And before you knew it, your fingers were tracing them. He had looked at your finger, unblinking, unflinching, almost leaning into your touch before a smile graced his face that had you flushing red.
The day you somehow broke into tears in his arms after a bad day at college. How mortified you had felt when fat tears rolled down your cheeks. How he suddenly froze, asking what was wrong, the way his eyebrows had slight furrowed, worried that he had somehow hurt you. Before you shook your head and apologised, spilling everything out. Toji had sighed, his eyes softened before his hand reluctantly moved to pat your head
There were too many such incidences that you could go on listing, but it only made you realise that you had sunk a little too deep in this quicksand
You sigh closing the door of your apartment leaning against the wooden contraption.
Ping!
You sigh and check the notification on your phone
(Unknown)
Hey Y/N, this is Suguru. Satoru gave me your number.
Are you free this Sunday? I was thinking do you wanna hangout? There's a really good restraunt that just opened in the city.
You bite your lip, knowing that leavin him on seen would be so goddamn rude, but you don't know what do...
(You)
Hey Suguru! Sounds good, give me a little time to think about it.
(Suguru)
No problem, I'll be waiting
You feel terrible, like a sick twisted woman who is playing with both Suguru and Toji and at the same time. You keep a hand over your mouth, sucking in sharp breaths to let go of the nauseating feeling.
"What am I even doing?" You laugh unhumourosly to yourself.
What do you want? You don't know what you want. Do you want a man like Toji⏤ to be irrevocably in love with you? To cherish you? A man⏤god you don't even specifically know what he does for a living, whatever it is, its not good.
His knuckles are often battered, body bruised like it suffered an impact. You had asked him before and he had said something along the lines of "A man's got to make money doll, sometimes even through dangerous work."
Do you want someone like that to love you?
No. (yes)
A soft cry leaves your mouth as you grip the flower vase next on the table, 'in a crazed female hysteria' as the books say, smashing it against the wall before it shatters into pieces, and so does a little skin of your palm.
You wince and decide to shake it off, returning to the more important work. Your uninjured hand reaches to your phone once again. Someone wise had once said, "Sometimes holding on hurts more than letting go." And what are you holding onto? Some delusions in your mind that are bound to pain you when Toji gets bored?
(You)
Come over?
(Toji)
I'm on my way
.
Toji had learned too much about you within this little span of a few months, your likes, dislikes...your body's likes and dislikes. Your tone, mood, expressions; he had observed enough to know your state of mind despite how paradoxical you can be. He knew something was wrong.
It made his stomach churn at the thought of you in discomfort. Despite how much ever he tried to deny it, you had softened him around his edges.
And despite how he had told himself otherwise, he was back in your apartment once again.
It awkward. The way he is just standing there, taking in the mood before actually doing anything. His eyes are searching yours for a signal.
What is he supposed to do? Should he just latch himself onto you wordlessly like he used to? Thats animalistic. He is not an animal.
You take a deep breath, just staring into his onyx eyes, surprised at how he is being considerate? Perhaps he all along was, you just failed to notice before.
You wordlessly walk close to him, standing in front of the behemoth man. His eyes mover to your wrist that you are clutching. Its bandaged. He looks up and sees your bottom lip trembling and his face just drops.
His hand movs to grip your wrist and he looks at you with those fricking murderous eyes. "What the hell happened?" He asks and the sudden depth of his voice startles you.
You try to free your wrist from his grasp but its too tight. "Nothing- nothing happened I just cut myself by mistake, I swear." You say and his stiff shoulders soften before he nods and lowers your hand, still holding it.
You take a shaky breath, looking at your hand and then back into his eyes. He is not helping. Acting all concerned like he wants to hurt you. Like he enjoys playing with your heart
"I am going on a date with Getou." You drop the bomb and his eyebrows furrow, grip on your hand slipping out before he nods softly, wordlessly.
You're growing annoyed at his lack of reaction. But maybe it doesn;t effect him like you want it to. It makes you all more mad. "Say something. Toji"
"What am I supposed to say?" He says out, his voice wavering so slightly that you don't notice it, but inside he feels as if someone kept a boulder on his chest. Toji was old enough to know what this was, he didn't need to be denial because he had learned that care—not the fleeting kind that you think you vibe with a person— but the kind that your hearts beat in synchrony, the painful kind.
You take a shaky breath and chuckle a bitter laugh leaving your throat, "What are we Toji?"
And Toji swears he feels like the scummiest man on earth wehn he sees those fat tears brimming in your eyes.
And he knows he's going to hurt you if he says it out loud so instead he opts for saving both of you from the hurt.
"Fooling around, we’re fooling around, that’s all. That’s what we’ve been doing all along, right?" He says but its not convincing.
"Bullshit." You scoff. "Then why are you looking at me like that?"
"Like what?"
"Like...its something more than these stupid rules in this stupid mess we've gotten ourselves in." You shout out and Toji's jaw clenches.
"Fuck, what do you want me to do?" He grits out and you freeze for a second. He sees your reaction and his jaw unclenches, tone a lot softer, "You want me address this and make it worse? You want me ruin your life, baby, I can do that. I can do that well enough that why I set those rules. I set them for my sake and now I am keeping them up for your sake."
You grab the collar of his shirt, "Why are you caring?! If you want to kiss me, kiss me! Why do you care if I get hurt!"
"Cause I love you!" He shouts, his voice echoing in your apartment. "And I don't want you to get hurt. I know I have dug my grave, I don't know where it went wrong, alright? I cannot be bound to a thing, a place heck even a person and somehow, here I am, so weak for someone, its going to get me killed."
"Toji..." you whimper out, your voice cracking, you are killing him.
"You can't fix me, Y/N. I am going to hurt you and myself." He whisper and before you know it, his thumb is tracing your jaw so tenderly you feeling like its a dream.
"I don't want to fix you." You mumble out, leaning against his hand, "You are a good person Toji, deep beneath all that, I don't need to fix you, if I needed to, you wouldn't be right here."
Toji breaths out deeply, leaning his neck down to place his forehead against yours, "You make me wanna be a better man." He whispers, pressing his lips against yours.
.
Getou wakes up at 2 to his phone ringing. Without checking the caller he picks up the phone irritated at who disturbed his sleep.
"Hello?" he mumbles out sleepily.
"Forget about her." Says Toji's voice that makes him flinch. He checks the caller Id ihis eyes widening when he sees the name 'Y/n' on his phone...looks like Satoru clearly forgot some details.
- FANFICTIONS
A/N: My longest fic yet, phew. Guys I spent so long on this, please show some love?
#white poppie🌼#[ Toji Zen'in Fushiguro ]#toji x reader#toji fushiguro#toji fluff#jjk x reader#toji angst#toji fushiguro fluff#fushiguro toji x reader#jjk fluff#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk angst#jjk toji#toji zenin#toji x reader smut#toji smut#toji headcanons#jujutsu kaisen toji#jujutsu toji#toji imagine#fushiguro toji#toji#toji drabbles#toji x fem reader#toji x you#toji x y/n#toji fushiguro x reader#toji fushiguro x you#toji fushiguro x y/n
719 notes
·
View notes
Text
Stranger Than (Fan)Fiction - Prologue: Crossover
Summary: Everyone wishes that they could have an Eddie Munson in their lives. In a strange turn of events, Eddie wishes that he could meet you, his favorite character from a cult classic 80's TV series. And he's about to get his wish.
Word Count: 3.9k
Pairing: Eddie Munson/Fem!Reader
Warnings/Themes: No-Upside-Down AU, Minor Angst, Fluff, Isekai, Mentions of FOI-compliant events
Note: Hello and welcome. I'm very excited about getting to expand on this idea; it's going to be a wild ride. Please note as you head in, and as we get into further chapters...this fic is going to be a little mind-fucky and a little bit self aware. This is my love letter to and my criticism of fanfiction, but at the end of the day, we're still gonna get to fall in love with Eddie and get some kind of Happily Ever After. This is my guarantee.
You can find my masterlist here.
Please do not interact if you are not 18+.
Enjoy!
May 2022. Such a weird time.
A time of uncertainty, a time of change. A time where the world seemed like it had been torn apart and was slowly being knit back together again.
But then a switch was flipped. Something happened. An old season ended and a new one started and with that start came something new. Someone new. And suddenly, countless people began to yearn for this new person in their lives.
A new, old person. Eddie Munson.
Joy ignited. Creativity sparked. Millions of words written and read. Edits made. Art drawn. Merch bought.
So many voices crying “why isn’t he real. WHY ISN'T HE REAL.”
If there was a god, he would let them have their own Eddie Munson. And if there was a Satan, he would let them sell their souls for Eddie Munson.
That’s just not how the universe works.
At least…not this one...
October 1985. A different kind of place and time. Still weird.
But Eddie Munson was real.
Sometimes to his detriment.
And for the most part, it was alright.
He played guitar, laughed with friends, mocked bullies to protect the people like him that were considered less than. He'd overcome hardships of one sort or another for most of his life, he could keep at it for a little while longer.
It would be his day week month year sometime soon.
Wouldn't it?
But until then, he would bide his time. Hopefully, this year, he'd pass all of his classes and finally graduate. Get to flip that douchebag Higgins off and snatch up a long-awaited, and well-deserved diploma.
What made it all easier, what softened the blow...was you.
It was silly. He knew that. Ronnie used to tease him on Wednesday nights when he needed to run home because he had a "standing date with his girl."
"Your girl doesn't even know you're alive," she'd scoff as he bustled her into the van. "She isn't real."
No...no you weren't.
Why couldn't you be real.
See, for the past...however long Eddie had spent his late nights half-assing homework, planning campaigns for Hellfire, working on music, and watching a television show. His guilty pleasure, a show about the ups and downs and upside downs of living in a sleepy suburban town: Port Geneva.
A show where you were his favorite character.
And crush.
You weren't the main character--in fact, you were just the main character's quirky best friend--but you were a fan favorite, as much as he could tell. You'd only been in the background during the first season, but before long you were front and just-left-of-center. And last year, you'd even gotten a two-episode arc in the season finale as you turned the small town on its head by announcing, a month or two before graduation, that you were quitting school to follow your dream and become an artist.
And man...Eddie had been there.
He'd actually missed those episodes airing when...well, when everything happened with his father and the heist...and the house...and Paige.
He'd missed a lot of episodes that season. Missed seeing you come into your own as he tried and failed to come into his.
Thankfully Wayne--and Eddie wasn't a believer but whatever deity in charge needed to bless his Uncle Wayne--had the foresight to tape those episodes for him.
Those tapes would be cherished 'til the day he died, because they had truly gotten him through those tough days after everything.
He wished he had seen them when they aired, maybe...maybe he would have made some different decisions if he had.
Of course, Eddie had already loved you before then.
Since he had first laid eyes on you, actually.
He was sure that if you were real, you would be the one to understand him more than any of his friends. See the real him. In return, he would understand you, be there for you too.
He already had been. He'd seen you cry countless times, he'd laughed with you, celebrated your successes and mourned your failures. He'd been there for you when you crushed on that dickhead Mark, and then had your heart broken by the careless jerk.
And somewhere deep down inside of him, when he was sitting in that jail cell after he wasted his phone call on Paige and he felt the weight of the world bear down on his shoulders…he wished that you were real so he could have called you instead.
If you were real, Eddie's life would just be a little nicer.
He knew…he just knew.
Of course, in the mean time while he wished with every fiber of his being that you would walk into his life, he brought you to life in other ways. During mid-season and summer hiatuses, he would write you into his DND campaigns. His friends knew, they always called him out for it.
"Are you seriously making her an NPC man?" Dougie would scoff and throw a D20 across the table at him.
"No, what are you talking about?" he defended and threw the die right back at his friend. "This is Spiria the Bold."
"Uh huh," Jeff rolled his eyes. "Sure."
By his imagination and his pen, you became a powerful warrior, a sharp-tongued trickster, a seductive mage. You became anything he wanted you to be--most often with a companion and lover that mirrored him--and everything he knew, deep down, that you were.
And then the unthinkable happened.
September ‘84. He and Wayne were in the checkout line at K-mart. Cart stacked with new clothes and school supplies and groceries. When suddenly...there you were. Right in front of him.
Alright, not you. Per se. But your face, smiling alongside Samantha and Patrick and Scotty and Bill on the cover of the TV Guide.
On Set with the Stars of Port Geneva.
Wayne was the one to snatch the magazine from the rack and add it to their bounty, a knowing smile on his lips as he shook his head.
He knew Eddie needed a little pick-me-up.
Or a big one.
How could he have known this would be anything but one...
Eddie scoured over the pages once they got back to the trailer. He was hoping there would be a big enough picture of you that he could cut out and tape to the otherwise barren walls of his new room. And there was; you were leaning against the back of your signature pastel blue Volkswagen Beetle, arms across your chest, head tilted to the side with the signature scrunched smile you gave when you were embarrassed.
He adored you.
Before he took scissors to the page, he read the interview with your actress.
He wasn't too keen on her, even though she had your face.
The illusion that Rosemary Glass was really you had been shattered the first time he'd heard her voice on a radio interview; instead of your perfect and familiar middle-American speech...Rosemary's voice was accented.
Not to mention, she sounded pretentious.
Gross.
Still, he could look past that annoyance if he got some kind of insight to what the next season would bring for you.
Hopefully not a new love interest. His heart could only take so much.
...gives us a tour of the Patterson and Son's set, one that is forever enshrined as the setting of Patrick and Samantha's first kiss. "Oh I'm actually not fond of that scene," Rosemary confesses. "Yeah it's sweet, and the way I bring Sam in so Pat could confess his feelings but the...when I fell down? It was not scripted. And I was honestly shocked they kept that in. But fans seem to think she's clumsy now because of it. That I'm clumsy. When I just tripped over a wire. It's quite awful, really." We ask Rosemary to tell us what she'll miss most, now that the show is coming to an end...
Eddie went rigid as he read those words.
The show...coming to an end?
"What?" he exclaimed into his empty room. "No, no, no."
He carefully examined the article again, then turned back to the beginning of the feature, only to feel his heart stop in his chest.
The title of the feature was like crit hit.
The final killing blow to his already weak constitution.
One Last Summer in Port Geneva - On the Set of the Final Season
The final season was a sham.
Eddie savored every episode, though. Of course he would!
He would enjoy every last moment with you that he could get before he lost you forever. But...he hated it.
It was lazy writing--seriously what were they thinking--and a quick, cheap means to tie up all the loose ends they'd set up over the years. He could tell they tried to deliver as fulfilling a finale for the extensive cast of characters as they could. Still, he was sure he could have done better.
Samantha and Patrick got engaged after graduation. That was lame.
Bonnie finally quit the bakery to open her own cafe the next town over. Didn't anyone remember that she wanted to quit because she wanted to be a vet instead? That was the whole point of her! She didn't want to follow in her family's footsteps and she was doing just that.
And you? You took a backseat.
Instead of leaving town right after graduation--something that you had followed through reluctantly to make your parents happy even though you had just resolved to put your own happiness first for once--you stayed to help Pat plan his proposal.
Your big adventure, your big push for your dreams, were on hold again. You played second fiddle over and over until the final episode.
Eddie was grateful to have you for a little longer, but...once again annoyed that you were looked over--over and over, just like he was--when you had already proved that you were worthy of top billing.
Worthy of being the main character for once.
Still, at the beginning of the series finale, you packed your bags, cashed in your savings account, and drove out of town. The future was yours, just like it was always meant to be.
And Eddie cried.
The whole time tears streamed down his face as you said your own watery goodbyes. He might have even waved as you stuck your hand out the windshield to say goodbye to your friends as your car idled at the last stop sign. You blew a kiss to everything you knew and loved then started on your way into the unknown, car getting smaller in the distance right before the commercial break.
He held his breath for the final scene: a walk through the house where it all started and then Sam smiled her signature hopeful smile as she shut the door on the audience.
The screen faded to black for one final time and he exhaled.
"It's over," he muttered in slight disbelief, suddenly unsure of what to do with himself.
Port Geneva was over, and you were gone for good.
It was a strange feeling.
Heartbreak, mourning, disappointment? He couldn't really know for sure. Empty was the best way to describe it; the lack of feeling. It was infuriating. Port Geneva was just a television show, he attempted to rationalize for the nth time since he started watching. You were just a character on a tv show; how could you mourn for someone and something that wasn't even real?
You hadn't actually died. He could still see glimpses of you if he wanted, whenever Rosemary Glass' next movie came out or something.
But that wasn't you.
You were gone, for all intents and purposes, and it was a blow that hit Eddie hard.
How could he go on without you?
Devastated, he got high that night after he stewed on his grief. He day-dreamed and monologued to an empty trailer about a universe where the two of you were together, where your travels took you to Hawkins, of all places, and you fell in love with him, just like you were supposed to.
If the walls could talk, they would have a fantastic tale to tell. One with heroes and misunderstandings and love at first sight. One with a horrible, unseen foe and many pitfalls and dangers that exceeded anyone's wildest imaginations. One with a magic door that led to the happily ever that was beyond well-deserved.
Grief did wonderful and terrible things, after all.
He woke up for school the next morning with cotton mouth and a vague outline of a story that did just that: brought you to Hawkins to fall in love with him and all of the other things that seemed like nonsense once he was in a more right-minded state.
The only problem was that it was all in his English notebook. And he didn't need anyone finding that.
"Fuck," he groaned and ripped the page out. He shoved it into his bedside drawer, where it would be doomed to a crumpled and forgotten future.
Or until he needed a condom.
Which, considering how everyone had doubled down on their disgust of him, wouldn't be any time soon.
But there you stayed.
Put away, like old obsessions and childish things, to be ignored and forgotten.
At least for a little while.
Eddie tried.
He did.
He kept you and Port Geneva out of sight and mind as much as humanly possible. It was the most effort he had really put to anything tangible in the past year.
The series ended at a weird time--during the middle of the season--and some investigative journalism show took over its time slot. Barbara Walters couldn't hold a candle to you, so it wasn't difficult for him to keep himself rooted in reality on the nights where he typically indulged in his silly fantasies.
The daydreams that he had were limited to lyrics for Corroded Coffin originals and ideas for Hellfire, and nights were spent alone in the darkness of the living room, with his reflection in the television set to keep him company as he tried his best to do homework that he'd already done before.
Before he realized, though, the school year was coming to a close and he was--big shocker--on the brink of failure. It wasn't until Higgins called him into his office, again, that you made your violent resurgence into his life.
There was a tentative truce between Higgins and Eddie for a while.
Civility was a strange thing for both of them. They actively avoided one another, save for a snide jab here and there, and Eddie tried to stay out of the Principal's Office as much as he could.
That is, until Higgins was forced to tell Eddie that he needed to repeat his repeat senior year.
"Don't act like I want this at all," he sneered at Eddie who tripped over a reaction. "I'd rather have you out of these halls for good. You drop out one year, then you re-enroll and you fail another. Try to make the most of it this time Munson; I don't want to have this talk again."
Eddie grumbled the whole drive back to the trailer, and he fell onto the sofa with his head in his hands once he got in.
"Which one of the fates wrote this stupid plot for me now, as if last year wasn't enough. You can't make this stuff up sometimes."
He laid there, wallowing in his misery for hours, days, years, until it got dark enough for headlights outside to be noticeable as they shined through the window. There was a glint of a reflection that caught his eye and had him turn his head.
"TV," he sighed and reached out as though he could touch the set and stacks of tapes neatly piled below. “The cause-of and solution-to all of life’s problems.”
He contemplated his life for a few more minutes.
He could make the most of the final few weeks of the school year. He could set himself up as a willing and reliable pupil for these last few assignments and tests, even though they wouldn't mean very much.
He could do all of these things so that when he walked into the halls of Hawkins High in the fall, on his absolute last first day of school--whatever deity or powers-that-be willing, because how "getting the hell outta dodge or he would die here" turned into "two extra years in that shit hole" he could only attribute to cosmic intervention--the faculty would already know he would try his best this time.
It would show them he was serious about graduating and that he would succeed despite all odds against him. Finally.
He could do this.
Or...
He could put in one of the tapes from the stack and scrounge for loose bills left over from his last few transactions and order a pizza. Pretend like he didn't exist for a little while.
And given the choice?
Eddie Munson chose the latter.
And he continued to choose the latter throughout the summer and even into the fall.
Nights that he didn't already have plans were spent in front of the television.
They were cherished nights with you.
Aside from his VHS recordings, he found a channel that showed reruns of Port Geneva after 10pm. Two hours of small town shenanigans that might very well be found just outside of his own door--if he only went and looked--with you just there, making your appearance every so often and catching his eye.
Homework was sometimes left halfway done on the coffee table until he needed to switch out a tape, or change the channel, and he spent more time filling his heart than enriching his mind, so to speak; he knew all of this school stuff already anyways.
Third times a charm and all right?
He talked to the screen more often than not, tried to warn you against one disappointment or another. Sometimes, if he was watching one of his tapes, he'd pause right on your face and just talk to you. Mundane things, usually, like Ronnie's last phone call home or some album that got released and a song he thought you might like.
Other nights, like tonight, he got vulnerable. Moments where life seemed a little extra trying, and he'd confess his feelings to your image.
Knelt on the floor in front of the coffee table, warm light bathed his face promising comfort as he spoke, and the din of static emitted from the television set, akin to an angel's voice...beyond understanding of humans.
He'd never been one for church, but this kind of confessional was sacred enough.
An eternal bond, just you and him.
He stopped his ramblings at that thought.
It was a strange moment of clarity.
Where had that come from?
"I..." Eddie looked down at himself, a foot away from the television set, remote clenched in his hand. Then he looked at you, soul-filled eyes just beyond the glass, not looking at him, only...through him, just past him. "What am I doing?"
What was he doing? He was...he wasn't a kid anymore who could hide in his dreams; well, honestly he was always going to do that, but this was different.
One minute he felt the weight of the world lift off his shoulders as he told you about his troubles, and the next it was all back, heavier than ever, as he realized how silly this all was.
And here he was, wasting his life knelt at your altar.
It wasn't holy. It was pathetic.
You'd never answer; you weren't real.
"Why?" he asked aloud, jaw clenched. He gripped the remote tightly. "What did I do to not have...someone? Huh? What have I ever done to be alone? That I have to rely on a fucking television character to feel understood. And now I'm losing my mind talking to myself, talking to you, at midnight every night. Why am I here wishing that you're real? Why couldn't you just...be...real?"
If there was a God, he would let Eddie Munson have you. If there was a Satan, he would let Eddie sell his soul for you.
And that's how he knew neither of them existed: you didn't exist either.
Eddie hit the eject button on the VCR and was about to shut everything so he could go to bed, when there was a crash outside.
Crashes in Forest Hills weren't abnormal--someone backing into trash cans, losing traction on the icy roads in the winter, and the one time Mrs. Dawson kicked her husband out and threw all of his things out the window--but it was something he'd gotten used to since he came to live with Wayne.
This crash, however, started a ruckus.
Someone was yelling and that stupid dog across the way started barking.
Eddie was a lot of things...but a dramatic gossip was definitely high on the list.
What else was there to do in the Midwest?
He grabbed his cigarettes from the bowl full of junk on the coffee table and stepped outside, fully intent on plopping down on the old couch on the porch to smoke and watch the scene unfold.
A car crashed into the telephone pole; didn't look like there was much damage but it had run through some trashcans and might have clipped the drivers side mirror off of Mrs. Mayfield's car. The same Mrs. Mayfield who was on her own porch being held back by Max as she yelled.
"Are you kidding me? It's fucking midnight!"
"Mom! Stop!"
"The car, Max!"
Maybe there'd be a fight.
He barely got his cigarette lit when he noticed--really noticed--the offending car: a powder blue Volkswagen Beetle.
He blinked several times and then rubbed his eyes, thinking it might have just been a trick of the light or something.
Or it was a coincidence.
Or a dream.
Maybe he'd had a heart attack and died in front of his television or something?
Plenty of people drove Volkswagen Beetles. He was pretty sure he'd even heard Nancy Wheeler asking her parents for one as a graduation present.
But with the same license plate number?
The same one from the show, the same one that was in the TV Guide all those months ago. The same one on the makeshift poster he had taped on the wall next to his bed, that he'd run his fingers over to "kiss" you goodbye countless times, just like he did to his guitar.
"It's just dark," he tried to convince himself, "and I'm tired, and...and..."
It was a coincidence. It was a dream.
He repeated the mantra over and over in his head like a lifeline.
It was another fan like him who just used fantasy to make their life a little better. That's all he was trying to do too, right? He could understand; hell, if this was a new neighbor, maybe he'd be able to chat with them about the show. Wouldn't that be something?
Eddie was so distracted making up endless excuses for himself that he didn't notice Mrs. Mayfield as she threw her hands up in the air with an exaggerated "I'm calling the police. He didn't hear Max holler at her mom to calm down, or see the tail lights of the Beetle turn off either.
It wasn't until the driver's side door swung open and a sneaker-covered foot crunched against the gravel that he forgot all the excuses he was conjuring.
And his heart stopped as the driver got out of the car and stood in the faint glow of the streetlight.
Because that driver was you.
Next Chapter: Alternate Universe
There is no taglist for this series, please follow the STFF Updates tag or check the series out on AO3.
#Eddie munson x reader#stranger than (fan)fiction#stff#Eddie munson fic#Eddie munson fluff#Eddie munson angst#stranger things fic#stranger things Eddie munson#Eddie munson#stff updates
559 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Devil at Your Window |1: Snowed In|
Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader Word count: 8k
Warnings/Tags: 18+; fluff, flirting, sexual tension, light angst, pining, eventual smut, identity reveal, and lots of black suit Matty
Series summary: In the middle of a New York City blizzard, the Devil of Hell's Kitchen accidentally lands himself on your fire escape–quite literally. When he accepts your invitation to warm up inside your apartment, you're surprised at how well the conversation flows all night with the curious and attractive masked vigilante. He's intriguing, though what you find even more intriguing is his unexpected returns to your window after that night–and his flirting. But when it seems like you're not the only one beginning to develop real feelings, he pulls back and you're left wondering two things: Why did he disappear and who really is the mysterious Devil that you've inevitably fallen for?
a/n: Just a short collection of one shots that I'll update whenever the ideas strike. It'll be told in a style like Falling for the Devil but it won't get nearly as long (unless y'all end up loving it, too). I just couldn't deny giving us all the fantasy of black suit Matt reappearing at your apartment window and all the flirting, sexual tension, feelings, and naughty things that might ensue... The installment list for this little series can be found here and feedback is always appreciated!
Tag list: @danzer8705 @darkened-writer
Picking up the steaming mug of tea you’d just finished making from off the kitchen counter, you cradled your other hand around the warmth of the ceramic and drew it towards your chest as you turned and headed back towards your living room. The small spot of heat against the front of your sweatshirt caused a shiver to run down your spine as your sock-clad feet padded along the cold hardwood floor and back towards your couch.
It was freezing inside your apartment tonight and the blustering snow storm raging outside in Hell’s Kitchen wasn't helping. Thankfully your office had already announced its closure for tomorrow before you'd finished work earlier this evening. The snow had already started to dump from the sky before you’d even left the office, falling heavy and wild as it accumulated in a cover of white that blanketed everything in the city. It would have been beautiful if you hadn’t needed to walk home afterwards in the frigid mess–especially with the way the large clumps of snowflakes pelted and battered you in the face over and over, the cold stinging at your skin.
The city was expected to get a whopping eighteen inches of snowfall minimum over the next twenty-four hours, so you were grateful that your boss wanted as little to do with making it into work tomorrow as you did, especially because you couldn’t afford to do anything but walk to the office. The last thing you wanted to do was trudge through all of that mess and slip on a patch of ice, inevitably falling in a massive pile of snow and leaving you stuck in damp dress clothes all day.
No, you'd rather stay dry and cozy at home enjoying a lazy day off of work.
You were just hoping the power in your apartment building remained intact throughout the fury of the winter storm. You didn’t want to think about losing the heat in your building in the middle of all of this. Another shiver ran through you as you pushed the thought away–hopefully not something you’d need to worry about tonight.
But since you didn’t have work first thing in the morning, you had every intention of enjoying your night. You’d immediately come home and thrown off your dress clothes before settling on something comfortable–soft sweatpants and a cozy sweatshirt sans bra underneath. Then you’d made dinner and cleaned it up fast before claiming your ‘spot’ for the evening on your couch. Which consisted of both of your blankets and the television remote while you binged a guilty pleasure show that you hadn’t had time to catch up on for the past few weeks. Tonight you were intending to stay up a bit late, cozy up beneath your blankets, drink some hot tea, and lose yourself in the plot and romance of the show before eventually dragging your tired ass to bed in the hopes of sleeping in tomorrow to make up for staying up late.
Eyes focused on the paused television screen as you moved, you rounded the side of your couch while drawing your steaming mug up to your lips. You sipped at the warm liquid, reveling in it for a moment before you swallowed it down. You could feel it heat you from the inside out as a pleasant sensation washed over you. Your eyes closed briefly for a moment–it was the first time you’d actually felt warm today.
Opening your eyes, you continued towards the couch and began to lower yourself down onto the cushions while trying not to spill any of your tea from the mug. Just as you were about to sit back down on the couch and cocoon yourself in both of your blankets, ready to settle in for more of your show, something outside the window to your right caught your attention. Your head spun in the direction just as a flash of black dashed past the window and a loud bang reverberated through your apartment.
A frightened yelp slipped out of you at the sound and you clutched your mug tight to your chest, your heart thudding heavily in terror. Whatever had just literally dropped onto your fire escape had been large, especially with the sound of that impact. Sucking in a breath, you held it as you stared transfixed at the window, almost ridiculously terrified it would be some sort of wild animal–like a bear or a wolf–on your fire escape.
Though, more realistically considering you were in New York City, you knew it was probably a burglar. Who else would be traversing fire escapes late at night? Especially dressed in all dark clothes? Except…that also seemed a little ridiculous, too. There was a literal blizzard happening outside, meaning everyone would be home. In their apartments. Making it impossible for a burglar to break into anyone’s place unseen. Plus, it was insane outside, what criminal would risk dealing with that right now?
So what the hell had just fallen onto your fire escape?
Another thought struck you soon after and your lips parted in shock at the idea as you blew out the breath you’d been holding. With trembling hands, you very slowly reached out, carefully placing your mug of tea onto the coffee table before you without taking your eyes off of your window. Gradually, almost nervously, you rose to your feet before taking hesitant step after hesitant step forward. Another sharp, surprised gasp flew out of you when you saw the dark figure sit upright on your fire escape, bent in half as if they were in pain. Which made sense, considering the fall they’d just taken.
But your body froze up instantly at the sight of the man dressed in all black bent in half and dusted in white patches of snow. He wasn’t a burglar at all. With the black cloth tied over his head and the form fitting shirt he was wearing, there was absolutely no mistaking who he was. You'd certainly seen enough images of him plastered across the media.
The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen had just fallen onto your fire escape.
Eyes widening in shock at the infamous vigilante attempting to pull himself up to his feet, one of his gloved hands holding onto the metal railing of your fire escape, you were suddenly overcome with the urge to check on him. To make sure he wasn’t seriously injured from that fall.
Without thinking your actions through, you crossed the last few steps to the window and unlatched the locks before pushing it up. The masked figure immediately spun towards you at the sound as a bitter gust of wind burst its way into your apartment, chilling you instantly while those thick snowflakes once again assailed your face. For a moment you locked eyes with him–or at least, it seemed like you did despite the fabric covering half of his face–as your mouth hung open. You suddenly found yourself at a loss of what to say in the moment. And considering the way his lips thinned out along his face and the way he remained silent, he clearly wasn’t going to strike up a conversation with you, either.
Eyes darting down, you saw he had one gloved hand clutching at his right side as if it hurt him. His shoulders were hunched in on himself as his back faced the violent winds blowing snow relentlessly. Seeing him in person for the first time ever–something you’d never expected in your life considering how elusive the media made him out to be–you realized just how thin and unprotective his clothes really were. Especially tonight considering the cold weather. He had to be freezing.
An icy wind whistled loudly, another flurry of heavy snowflakes pelting you right in the face and breaking you from your thoughts. Blinking the snow from your lashes, you finally found your voice.
“Are you alright?” you asked hesitantly, unsure how one should approach the masked man. “I just–just saw you fall. It looked like it hurt.”
He gave a curt shake of his head, wincing before he turned more towards the railing. “I’m fine, don’t worry about me,” he replied.
Something warm flooded your veins at the gravelly tone of his voice. It suited him somehow, even if it sounded fake. Like he was pitching his voice lower to sound like someone else in order to hide his identity. Not that you'd probably have recognized him anyway.
With his back partially to you now, especially this close when there was barely a few feet of space between the pair of you, you could see just how incredibly muscular this man was. His black shirt clung to him like a second skin, the toned abdominal muscles on his upper body clearly visible even from just his profile. Even the pectoral muscles of his chest were well defined and visible beneath the sheen of black. His arms were thick–far too big for just one of your hands to wrap around. And as your gaze lingered lower, you fought back the thoughts that entered your mind at the sight of how large his thighs were in those tight pants–and how pleasant a profile his ass also had. You wondered briefly if he'd gained all that from working out or if it had more to do with his nightly activities.
Though when you saw him grab onto the metal railing of your fire escape with both of his gloved hands, the movement drawing your attention away from observing him as he attempted to swing himself over it, you nearly screamed as you lurched forward. You lived on the fifth floor, was this man really about to fling himself off of the fire escape from all the way up here?
But the scream died in your throat the moment he cried out in pain, his feet slipping from off of the railing as he fell back onto your fire escape. He let out a hiss of pain as he clutched at his clearly injured side.
“Holy shit,” you breathed out, shoving the window open wider despite the cold and snow and leaning further forward. “You’re clearly not okay. Do you need something? An ambulance or something? Is there someone I can call? Or–or something I can do to help?”
The man rolled off his injured side and onto his back, gradually turning towards you as he lay on the fire escape. You hadn’t expected the amused and pained chuckle he emitted while the snow accumulated on the entire front of him, lightly covering the thin layer of his black shirt. Which you’d noticed had ridden up, revealing a small sliver of skin just above the dark, form fitting pants he was wearing. You tried hard to not keep glancing back at that patch of skin as it slowly rose higher and higher, unsure why you were so distracted by it.
The sound of his amusement soon drew you back to the moment and you cringed. Why the hell was he laughing?
“Are you alright? Did you…hit your head?” you asked him cautiously. “Maybe you have a concussion…”
Another amused sound slipped out of him, but that was quickly followed by a pained groan as he tried to once again rise up onto his feet. “I don’t have a concussion,” he assured you.
“You sure?” you asked, an eyebrow arching onto your forehead as you crossed your arms over your chest to stay warm when you began to shiver from the cold. “Because this doesn’t seem like a funny situation to me.”
“Well,” he grunted out, wincing as he drew back up to his full height, “normally I’m the one offering assistance, not the other way around. So yeah,” he continued with a faint shrug, your eyes once again catching the way he was holding his side, “it’s kind of amusing. In an…irritating sort of way.”
Your heart sank to your stomach at his words. “Oh, sorry,” you muttered, heat rushing up to your face instantly. “I didn’t mean to be annoying. I was just concerned–”
He took a half step forward, cutting you off as he waved a hand between the pair of you. He shook his head, letting out a slight huff of laughter. “No, I didn’t mean you were irritating. Just…this situation. The–the snow and the falling part.” In a quieter voice he added, “And having an audience for it.”
Chewing the inside of your cheek, you stood there studying him for a moment. He was injured and wearing barely anything at all in the middle of a blizzard. He looked like he needed help even if he seemed like the type not to ask for it.
“Do you want to come inside?” you blurted, unable to stop yourself. “I mean, to get warm and maybe sit down for a moment? I could call an ambulance or–or a taxi or something to bring you to a hospital.”
Another amused huff of laughter slipped out of him as he shook his head. “No hospitals, please. I’ll be alright. But…if you’re offering, I wouldn’t mind a moment to warm up.” His gloved hand lowered, pinching a bit of fabric from his shirt as he glanced down at it. “Admittedly this doesn’t offer much protection from the elements.”
You eyed the thin material between his gloves doubtfully. “Doesn’t look like it offers much protection from anything,” you told him.
A surprised bark of laughter peeled out of him, the sound drawing a smile onto your face. You’d made the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen laugh. Now that was something you weren’t going to forget anytime soon. He didn’t seem like the type to break character easily.
“You wouldn’t be wrong,” he agreed, his laughter subsiding.
Taking a step back from the window, you waved a hand towards him, gesturing for him to come inside. “How about you come in so I can close this window and we both can stop freezing?” you suggested, surprised at how bold you sounded considering who it was you were speaking with. “I’m shivering already so I can only imagine how cold you must be.”
You watched as his lips curled up into a charming grin at the corners, just beneath the black fabric of his mask. It was impossible to deny that he had a handsome face–at least, from what you could see of it. You imagined the rest of it to be just as attractive beneath that cloth and a sudden intense curiosity to know what the rest of it looked like overtook you as you watched him carefully climb through your opened window. He moved slowly, wincing in pain as he made his way inside. Despite his tough act, that fall must’ve really hurt his side and you frowned, wishing he’d accept your offer to help. There was no way he was as fine as he claimed to be, surely he needed medical attention.
“Takes a special kind of person to just invite me into their home so readily,” the Devil’s rough tone came out as he turned his back to you, shutting the window after himself. “Normally people prefer to avoid me.”
“You’re not dangerous,” you replied almost instantly.
The window closed with a sharp clack before his masked face turned over his snow-dusted shoulder, his attention fixed on you. “Oh?” he asked curiously, a smirk growing over his lips. “I’m not?”
Your eyes were drawn to his mouth, though it wasn’t like there was anywhere else to look when you spoke to him with that mask covering most of his face. The smirk appeared teasing, and for some reason that had the hair on the back of your neck bristling. You suddenly became very aware of the fact that you weren’t wearing a bra beneath your loose sweatshirt and it was now cold in your apartment. Quickly your arms wrapped over your chest, hugging yourself tight. His lips almost seemed to curl ever higher in response.
“I mean, you are ,” you amended, “but to, you know, criminals.”
You swallowed hard when he remained still, gazing at you over his shoulder wordlessly.There was something almost predatory in the way he was studying you. It was easy to see how this lone man terrified the criminals on the streets of Hell’s Kitchen, striking fear into them. He certainly had a presence. Goosebumps rippled beneath the sleeves of your sweatshirt at his continued silent stare.
“Right?” you asked tentatively, voice softer.
His smirk vanished as the other corner of his mouth curled upwards into what felt like a warm smile despite you being unable to see if it reached his eyes. He nodded gently, turning slowly back towards you as he did.
“That's correct,” he agreed, brushing the snow from his broad shoulders. “I’m only dangerous to criminals. So unless you’re hiding any dead bodies or have some outstanding charges…?”
You laughed, though abruptly you snatched your bottom lip between your teeth in an attempt to quiet the noise instantly. He was witty and funny. You weren’t anticipating that. Or the way your reaction to his quips seemed to please him, like he was trying to charm you. Which seemed even more curious, considering who he was and what he spent his nights doing.
“Can't say that I do,” you said. “I'm probably the most boring person in Hell’s Kitchen.”
“Well now,” he replied teasingly, “don't sell yourself short. I'm sure you're not taking that title all by yourself.”
That charming smile was back on his face and it had your stomach fluttering. Tearing your eyes away from him, you noticed the television was still paused on your show. Paused on a scene where the two actors on screen were clearly about to kiss. Cheeks burning, you hurried over and grabbed the remote from the couch and turned it off.
“You can make yourself comfortable if you want,” you told him, trying to keep the embarrassment out of your tone. “I've got a couple of blankets you can use to help warm you up.”
His heavy boots thudded with each of his steps as he crossed the room and made his way to the couch. You bent over, grabbing both blankets from your place on the couch where you'd previously been curled up as he passed behind you. The moment one of his cold gloves brushed against your back, you froze.
“Sorry,” he whispered.
“No it's–it's fine,” you replied.
He passed behind you before settling onto the opposite end of the couch from where you had clearly taken residence. You forced a smile onto your face as you turned and leaned over, holding out the blankets towards him.
Pull yourself together , you internally chastised yourself. Just because it's been a while since you've had a man here doesn't mean you need to react to every little thing. That's not what this is, obviously.
“Thank you,” he said, accepting the blankets from your outstretched hand.
You nodded before sitting back down on the opposite end of the couch, keeping space between you and him. Curling your legs up under yourself, you watched as the Devil wasted no time throwing both blankets around himself, beginning to visibly shiver beneath them as he tried to warm up.
“Are you sure you don't want me to call anyone?” you asked him.
“No one to call,” he answered. “And a hospital would defeat the purpose of trying to remain anonymous.”
“I suppose that makes sense,” you muttered, glancing away and spotting the forgotten tea on your coffee table. “Would you like something to drink at least? Some water or some hot tea, maybe?”
His masked head tilted curiously to the side at your question, a grin returning to his plush lips. “Playing hostess?” he asked.
“Well I'm sure you've got to be thirsty running around Hell’s Kitchen and fighting criminals all the time,” you explained. “I always sort of wondered if you stashed water bottles around the city or stopped for water breaks somewhere–not where you live, I imagine. Since you're trying to keep your identity hidden.” Your eyes narrowed as you added, “Or do you just let yourself get dehydrated every time you're out? Because that's not good for you, you know.”
The Devil's grin grew wider as he shifted on the couch, facing you even more from his place on the cushions. “Oh?” he asked, curiosity in his tone. “You've thought about me before, have you?”
Eyes dropping down to your lap, you smiled sheepishly as you shrugged. “I mean, I've had some theories circulating about you ever since you kept reappearing in the news,” you admitted awkwardly. “Sort of hard not to.”
“Well now you have to indulge me,” he teased. “Enlighten me on some of these theories of yours.”
Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, you continued to avoid his covered stare. “I mean, they're not that interesting…”
“Oh come on,” he tried again. “It's not like we don't have the time. And maybe I can confirm or deny some of them for you. Besides, I admit I’m curious to know what you think of me. Especially being so willing to offer help like you did.”
Chewing your bottom lip, you glanced up at him from beneath your lashes. He looked far less intimidating beneath your blush pink blanket now. What would it hurt if you told him a few of your ideas about the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen? Maybe he might laugh at them, but would hearing that sound again be all that bad? And it truly would be interesting to learn more about the mysterious vigilante, something you'd probably never have the opportunity to do again.
“Okay,” you agreed with a nod. Straightening up on the couch, you turned to face him more fully. “So I've always thought with the way that you fight that you were trained by some sort of secret ninja assassin organization.”
A hearty chuckle filled your living room at your first theory. The pleasant and resonant noise left you grinning as your stomach fluttered in response. You briefly wondered how often the Devil actually laughed when he was out.
“I cannot confirm nor deny that,” he responded.
The playful smile that kept appearing on his face was beginning to further disarm you. You found yourself enjoying his company, soon becoming used to the way half his face was hidden from sight with that ridiculous fabric. And for some reason your unexplainable attraction to him was only growing.
“Next theory,” he prodded, the smile on his face apparent even in his voice.
“You're not wealthy,” you stated, leaning forward and grabbing your tea from the coffee table.
“Oh, ow,” he joked, playfully recoiling back from you on the couch. “What makes you say that?”
You waved a hand at him across from you as you settled back into the cushions, mug in hand. “Because you wear clothing that is obviously not meant to protect you very well in a fight,” you answered. “I imagine if you had money you'd have something…nicer. Meant for what you do. And,” you continued, pausing long enough to drink down some of your now barely warm tea, aware of him focused on you, “you protect Hell’s Kitchen. Only Hell’s Kitchen. This part of the city isn't exactly filled with the wealthiest people. And with how dedicated you are to everyone here, I assume it's because you probably grew up here yourself. Most likely still reside here, too.”
The Devil hummed appreciatively when you'd quieted, his masked gaze still on you. You swore you could feel it as you drank down more of your tea.
“You're observant,” he mused. “Maybe I need to watch myself around you.”
A surge of pride swelled in your chest; you hadn't expected his praise. Or the way it would make you feel. And apparently, you'd guessed something right about him.
“You're also not married or in a serious relationship,” you blurted before you could help yourself, wondering what more you could learn about him.
“Poor and unlovable?” the Devil asked with a surprised laugh. “That's what you think of me?”
“No,” you disagreed, laughing a little with him as you shook your head. “No, but I mean, I imagine you don't have time for someone else. And I figure most people wouldn’t like their partner going out and doing what you do. Putting yourself in danger.”
“Mmm,” he hummed out, shifting on the couch and making himself more comfortable. “A partner would certainly be…a distraction. A liability. One I couldn't really afford to have. So no, you're not wrong, I don't have one.”
You glanced down at your lap, your fingers fidgeting with the mug in your hands. Half of you was hoping to hear that he wasn't with anyone–though you refused to admit to yourself why that mattered–but the other half of you had heard the way he'd said that a partner would be a distracting liability and you’d felt a sad pang hit you in the chest. Considering how much he seemed to be enjoying your company when he didn't even know you had you guessing that the Devil was a lonely man deep down.
But that wasn't a theory you felt comfortable sharing.
“Any others?” he asked, breaking through your thoughts.
Clearing your throat, you focused back on him across the couch from you. His smile had disappeared, his lips now downturned at the corners just a bit. His posture had changed in your silence, the same as his mood, as if he'd picked up on the subtle change in yours somehow.
Strange.
“I imagine you're the kind of guy who's fridge is always empty,” you answered.
A ghost of a smile reappeared on his face as he huffed out an amused breath. You couldn't fight the smile returning to your own lips at the sight of his again.
“Well hey now,” he countered lightly, “there's usually beer. Sometimes orange juice and eggs.”
You giggled, unable to stop yourself. “Who'd have guessed the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen is just your average bachelor?”
“Average?” he repeated in mock offense, his head tilting to the side. “I'm just average now?”
Quirking a brow at him in a challenging manner, your own head cocked to the side. “Maybe tell me more about yourself and I could say otherwise,” you boldly teased back.
“Well obviously,” he began, grinning at you in a way that had your body heating, “I can't exactly do that now can I? Defeats the purpose–
“Of remaining anonymous,” you finished for him. “I've picked up on the importance of that.”
A silence soon settled between the pair of you, one that slowly began to cause your nerves to grow with the way he kept smiling at you. Once again you desperately found yourself wanting to see the rest of his face, curious to know just how handsome he really was under that black mask. Though you settled for studying what you could see, your eyes tracing the soft curves of his pink lips, noticing the way they very minutely twitched under your scrutiny. Eventually your gaze dropped down, following the hard lines of his stubbled jaw. As your eyes trailed further down, they lingered on the part of his neck that wasn't covered by the blankets he’d wrapped around himself for warmth. A heat burned in you as the urge to reach out and just touch him, just to see if he was real, suddenly grew within you. It didn't help that it almost felt like you could feel the weight of his own eyes fixed on you beneath the mask, once again making you very aware of your lack of bra beneath your sweatshirt.
Catching your lip between your teeth, you noticed the way his throat bobbed with a hard swallow. Had he been having similar thoughts? Observing you, too?
Inhaling a sharp breath through your nose at the idea, you knew you needed to stop this line of thinking and stop it fast. There was absolutely no way the Devil would be interested in you. Certainly not like that. That was absurd.
“Would you like something to eat?” you asked, trying to calm your pulse. “If your fridge is empty all the time I'm guessing you could use something to eat.”
“I mean, I suppose if you’re–”
He stopped short the exact moment that the lights died, throwing the pair of you into almost complete darkness. You sucked in a breath, turning to look out the window just to your right. It was eerily dark outside, a sight that was rare in the city. Even the buildings across the street had been thrown into darkness. There was nothing but the howling wind and snow outside.
“Guess it was too much to hope the power wouldn’t go out in this mess,” you breathed out.
“I suppose so,” he replied, his tone just as soft.
Reaching blindly forward, you set your almost empty mug onto the coffee table before you. For a moment you reached around on the surface until your fingers brushed against your phone. You picked it up and unlocked the screen, grateful for the bit of light it shed in the dark as you turned on the flashlight function.
“So I can’t offer you a nice cooked meal without power,” you told him, rising to your feet, “but I can get you an apple and a couple of protein bars? If you’d…like?”
“You don’t have to, but I’d appreciate it,” he said.
“It’s the least I can do for the man who does so much for the rest of us,” you told him, maneuvering around the couch and navigating your way to the kitchen by the light of your phone. “I’d feel awful leaving you hungry and dehydrated.”
Wrapping one arm around your chest to try to fight the chill that had been steadily creeping into you, you headed towards a cabinet near the sink. Reaching up, you grabbed a glass from out of it before taking a moment to fill it beneath the faucet before setting it along the countertop. Then you plucked an apple out of a fruit bowl on your counter, taking a moment to rinse it off first. The moment you’d turned off the faucet you heard his voice from across the apartment.
“You’re cold.”
For a moment you found it odd how his words hadn’t come out as a question but more of an observation, though you quickly shrugged the strangeness of that aside. You set the apple down on the counter beside the glass of water before sliding a step to your right and opening up another cabinet.
“It’s alright, I’m fine,” you answered, trying to shine the light from your phone into the cabinet to read the labels on the boxes. “I wasn’t the one out in that snowstorm wearing barely anything at all.”
“You say that like I was out there naked.”
His voice had unexpectedly come from just behind you this time and it jolted your heart in your chest instantly. His sudden proximity mixed with his word choice had you startling on the spot. Your hand that had been about to pull the box of protein bars out of the cabinet accidentally bumped it instead, causing the entire box to slip off of the shelf. But before it could tumble to the floor and spill its contents, a black gloved hand darted out beside your face, catching it before it had barely fallen six inches.
You stood there rooted to the spot, his hand just brushing your arm as his held the box of protein bars. The hair on the back of your neck had risen, aware that he was standing barely a foot behind you now. Slowly, you turned over your shoulder to look at him. Your pulse quickened further at how close his face was to yours. He was looking at you, too. Or at least, he was facing you. Eyes dropping down, you couldn’t help but notice that mouth of his again.
“I apologize,” he said, your eyes watching as his lips moved. “I didn’t mean to startle you. Sometimes I forget how quiet I can be. I just wanted to give you one of the blankets. No sense in me using both when you’re cold.”
“Oh,” you whispered, unable to form any other response.
With his attention still on you, he reached up and slid the box back onto the shelf. Then he seemed to take a purposeful step back from you, his lips set in a straight line. You wondered what was going on in his mind right now, because you were sure there had to be something. Had he felt the tension you’d just felt? Or were you just ridiculous and overly hopeful?
And why did it even matter? You were never going to see this man again after tonight anyway.
Blinking a few times, you returned your attention to the shelf. Reaching up, you slid your hand into the box that had nearly taken a nosedive to your kitchen floor and pulled out two protein bars. Keeping your eyes actively focused away from the Devil nearby, you closed the cabinet and slid a step back to your left, grabbing the glass of water in your hand with your phone and the apple in the same hand as the bars. Though before you could turn around, you felt something gently drape over your shoulders. Looking down, you noticed it was the pink blanket he’d been wearing.
“Like I said,” he repeated, “there’s no sense in me using both.”
“Right,” you whispered, pulse pounding in your throat.
Turning on your heel, you stepped past him and made your way back to the living room by the light of your phone. This time you heard the heavy steps of him following after you. You assumed that was intentional.
“So why were you out in this blizzard tonight anyway?” you asked him, making your way around the couch. You hoped having something to talk about would distract you from whatever it was he kept stirring inside of you. “Surely there aren’t a lot of crimes being committed in this weather?”
The Devil let out a light laugh as he accepted the offered glass of water and food from you. One of your brows quirked curiously onto your forehead at his reaction as you sat back down in your original spot on the couch. Though you noticed as he took a large drink from the cup while lowering himself onto the cushions that he’d sat closer to you than before. You watched as he ripped open a protein bar and tore off a large bite next, but he didn't answer until a moment later when he’d swallowed the bite down. Internally you noted he must’ve been hungrier than he let on with the way he was devouring that bar and you’d wished you’d had more food to offer him with the power out.
“You’d be correct,” he told you. “And yet I still stupidly made my way out into this storm tonight in the hopes of catching a lead on something. Instead all I got was my ass frozen and my side bruised.”
You watched as he took another large bite of the protein bar, chewing it almost contemplatively as his head canted to the side. You could still see him in the beam of light from your phone which you were still clutching in your hand. Somehow this lighting made him even more appealing as it cast sharp shadows along his jaw.
“Though I suppose unexpectedly meeting you was a highlight,” he added, causing your cheeks to flush. “But you know, you never did give me your name.”
“Well you never exactly gave me yours,” you immediately quipped back.
Those beautiful lips of his curved upwards yet again as he chewed the last bite of the first protein bar. What you wouldn’t give to see if that smile had reached his eyes.
“Alright, point taken,” he replied.
Tearing your gaze away from him, you focused on your phone. If you kept the flashlight running the battery would die in no time. And who knew how long the power might be out for, you might need it later. You supposed you didn't need it on just for a conversation.
“I’m going to turn the flashlight off on my phone for now, if that's alright?” you told him, fingers darting across the screen to do just that. “Might need the battery on this later.”
“That’s alright,” he replied, sounding as if he was chewing another bite of food. “I don’t need it.”
He’d made the comment just as you’d leaned forward to set your phone back onto the coffee table, but you’d paused as the words processed in your mind. Your eyes narrowed again as your mind raced. Something about the way he’d said that sounded as if it had another meaning to it. But before you could put too much thought into it, he’d changed the topic.
“You’re still cold,” he pointed out. “That blanket alone isn't helping.”
Brows furrowing together as you slowly sat back, you wondered how he could possibly know that. The pair of you were in almost pitch black again with your phone flashlight off. It wasn't like he could see you and you hadn't been shivering, though there were definitely goosebumps dotting your skin. How could he possibly know?
“I’m fine,” you said, pulling the blanket you had on tighter around yourself. “It’s bound to get colder here with the power out now.”
“And with how long you had your window open earlier,” he added. “The temperature is going to drop in here faster than it would have if you hadn’t helped me.”
You sighed, frowning in his general direction. “So much for being able to help you warm up,” you muttered. “Sorry.”
“No need to apologize,” he assured you.
It felt as if he was shifting on the couch nearby. Your brows knitted further together as you tried to make out what he was doing through the dark. All you could see was a faint mass of black that seemed darker than the rest of the blackness. Then moments later you felt a blanket being draped over your lap.
“No, uh uh,” you said, shaking your head and immediately grabbing the blanket. “There’s two blankets, we can clearly share.”
“You’re freezing,” he countered.
“And you’re not cold?” you shot back.
“Doesn’t matter, you’ve already been far kinder than I deserved this evening,” he replied.
You grabbed the blanket in your hands and stubbornly tossed it back in his general direction. An audible sigh sounded through the darkness to your left.
“You know I can just leave, right?” he told you. “Which would leave you with no reason to not use both blankets.”
Your eyes narrowed in the direction of the sound of his voice. “But then you’d be allowing more cold air into my apartment, which would only make the temperature drop faster in here,” you argued back. “Then I'd really be cold.”
He breathed out a laugh and you imagined the smile on his lips at the sound. You smiled triumphantly back at the dark shape of him because you knew you had a good point. Even though really, you could just layer on more clothes.
“Okay,” he relented. “That’s true. So how about…we share?”
The smile on your face quickly disappeared at his suggestion. Mouth dropping open, you felt your heart skip a beat in your chest. It took you a few seconds to regain the ability to respond.
“Share?” you asked.
“Body heat would certainly keep us both warmer,” he answered. “So would sharing two blankets instead of using only one.”
“Oh, uh, well,” you stammered, your mind racing at the thought of your body pressed up against his. “I–I–”
His deep laugh rumbled towards you through the darkness, the sound causing your lips to clamp shut.
“I’m not suggesting anything immoral,” he assured you. “Simply a possible solution to the very real problem of us freezing in here. Unless, of course, you’d prefer me to leave?”
“No!” you exclaimed.
Immediately your eyes widened in horror at how quickly you’d responded to that. And judging by his chuckle, he’d also noticed, too. Your face scrunched up as you mentally scolded yourself for sounding so eager to keep him here in your apartment.
“Well in that case, we could share the blankets and our body heat,” he suggested again. “Because the temperature has definitely dropped a few degrees already and it's only going to continue if the power stays out.”
Nervously your tongue slid out, licking your lips. You were trying hard to control the racing of your heart, positive he could hear it with how hard it was beating now. Of course you weren’t going to pass up a chance to basically cuddle the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen for warmth during a snowstorm. You just needed to find a way to not sound so eager to accept his offer first.
“I suppose you…have a point there,” you said slowly, trying to keep your voice even. “That’s–that’s usually what people do in survival situations. Use their body heat to keep warm.”
An amused huff came from him and you realized he’d scooted even closer to you on the couch. Your breath caught in your throat the moment you felt his thigh bump against yours.
“So are we in agreement with sharing both blankets, then?” he asked.
“That–that appears to be the most logical solution to the problem,” you answered. “So yeah, I guess we…share the blankets.”
Despite the lack of light, the Devil seemed to move with ease and fluidity through the darkness, something you were paying close attention to as he gently sidled his way up against the side of you, managing to wrap both blankets around the pair of you. All the while you’d sat pin straight on the couch, aware that he was flush to your side from your shoulder all the way down to your knee. You clasped your hands in your lap, unsure of where else to place them. Truthfully, you had to admit you were already much warmer like this, with his body heat enveloping you beneath both blankets.
“Am I making you uncomfortable?” he asked, his tone far gentler than it had been all evening. “Because that's not my intention.”
“No,” you answered with a light shake of your head. “You're not.”
He chuckled softly, his body shaking yours slightly with the movement. Your head turned towards him and you wished you could see at least the part of his face that was visible right now.
“Then why are you so tense?” he questioned.
“I'm not tense!” you lied.
He laughed again, this time louder. The movement jostled you somehow further into his side, though your hand flew out and landed flat on his very solid chest as you tried to stop yourself from falling further into him. Your eyes widened in horror yet again, but before you could push yourself away you felt his arm wrapping around your shoulders and allowing you to sink even more into him. Heat was very much creeping up your neck and reaching your cheeks now in embarrassment.
“You're very tense actually,” he teased. “If you're uncomfortable I can move, but we aren't going to be sharing much body heat if you don't actually sit next to me.”
Slowly you removed your hand from his chest, lowering it to your lap. Though with the way you were sitting facing partially towards him now, your knuckles were brushing against his thigh.
“I am not tense,” you grumbled. “And you aren't making me uncomfortable. This is just…awkward. I barely know you and you don't know me.”
“Okay,” he conceded. “How about since you've guessed a few things about me, I think it's only fair you tell me a few things about yourself now.”
“I told you I'm not very interesting,” you reminded him.
“Ah, well,” he replied with a shrug, “I think I'd like to decide that for myself.”
Biting your lip, you turned your burning face and buried it into his shoulder, glad he couldn't see how nervous he'd suddenly made you. It was hard to tell if he was flirting with you or if that was just his vigilante persona–when he wasn't beating people, of course.
With your nose pressed against the fabric of his shirt, you noticed he smelled surprisingly good. There was the hint of his sweat, but there was also a faint clean detergent scent. You closed your eyes and tried to relax, inhaling a deep breath in. Even though he was still a stranger and a vigilante, he seemed kind and safe so far. And he also hadn't thrown you off of himself for getting even closer to him, either. Maybe you should just do what he seemed to be doing: relax and enjoy the unexpected cuddles tonight with an unexpected acquaintance.
“Alright, what do you want to know?” you whispered, eyes still closed as you focused on his scent.
Eyes fluttering open, you felt yourself waking from a deep, comfortable sleep. Though your eyes instantly snapped closed against the bright light that immediately assaulted them. Slowly you blinked them back open, trying to adjust to the surprising sunshine pouring through your living room window. Gradually you began to push yourself upright, realizing you were laying with your head on a couch pillow, both of your blankets snuggly wrapped around you. For a moment your face twisted into a look of confusion as you hesitated, staring down at the two blankets. Why had you been asleep on your couch?
But then flashes of last night came back to you. The masked man falling onto your fire escape. The joking and constant banter between the pair of you. Darkness when the power went out and the feel of his warm, muscular body wrapped around yours as he tried to keep you warm. The scent of clean detergent and his sweat. The feel of his spandex shirt against your fingertips and your cheek as you rested your head against his shoulder.
Had that all really happened? Or had you just fallen asleep on your couch and dreamt it?
Your attention shifted towards your coffee table and your sluggish brain processed the sight of your almost empty mug of tea, left abandoned all night, and an empty glass of water. Pushing yourself the rest of the way upright on the couch, your head turned over your shoulder. The lock on your living room window was undone.
The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen really had been in your apartment last night. Which meant the pair of you really had cuddled together for warmth when your power had gone out. And you really did meet him. At least, somewhat.
“Oh my God,” you breathed out in awe. “He was really here.”
But just as the rush of excitement at meeting someone you’d always secretly admired filled you, it quickly vanished. Because you must have fallen asleep on him sometime last night when the pair of you were talking, and then he must’ve slipped out of your apartment before the sun came up, probably when the power had come back on. Which made sense, considering he wouldn’t want to be seen sneaking back to his own apartment in such a conspicuous outfit.
But what was upsetting you was the growing realization that it wasn’t just the first time you’d met him, but it would most likely be the last. And you’d gone and fallen asleep through part of that meeting.
Stupid stupid stupid.
#matt murdock x reader#matt murdock fluff#matt murdock x you#matt murdock series#matt murdock#daredevil
693 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
fluffydestiel124
WhassupFellowTumblr
Peeps
anonwithanaccount
Just a weird goat
143aina
Aina☆
bewitchingwordss
bewitchingwords
dropshelf22
The Life of Gustafson 686