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#he sits in the corner and is bothered by people existing near him

ravenelyx · 5 months

Note

Hello! Do you take requests? If so I have oke for you :)

It’s similar to the recent one about Sebastian hugging the reader. Could it be with Omi this time?

I love your writings, btw.

I absolutely can !!! And thank you so much ♡♡

Let me in. - Ominis Gaunt

Pairing: Ominis Gaunt x Fem!Reader

Words: 1k

Warnings: fluff, kissing, angst and comfort, Ominis is touch-starved, Ominis is insecure, neck kissing, fuck the Gaunt family all my homies hate the Gaunt family, we all know Omi's past, cuddling and snuggling, House is not specified, (implied) established relationship

Summary: Ominis Gaunt has never learned how to love. But he has you, and you're willing to teach him.

A/N: I hope you like this!! I followed a different tangent than Sebastian's.

Masterlist

you can find the whole fic here on ao3 as well

Sebastian's version

He wishes love were easy.

But nothing had ever been easy in Ominis Gaunt's life.

When he opened his heart to her, he opened something deep. A Pandora box of sorrow and grief and everything he'd buried so deep he'd forgotten about it.

Unfortunately, his body never forgets. It shows when she takes his hand. It unleashes when she brushes his hair. That gnawing, scorching flame burning where her touch remains.

She asks him how he's doing, he doesn't answer, words trapped behind his teeth like in a prison of jelly and guilt. He thinks she doesn't really want to be bothered by his problems.

She takes his hand while walking, he moves it away, clutching it to his chest in an attempt to build back that armor she threatens to break every time.

"Ominis," she speaks quietly in the night, when he keeps her always at an arm's distance. "Please, come here."

He wants to cry.

"I don't know how."

The smell of her hair lingers on the pillow when she leaves, and he quietly brings it to him, burying his face in the softness of her girly perfume. Even then, he feels too much freedom; taking up a space that isn't his own. He turns his back to it.

She seems tired today.

"Ominis." Her voice is weary, sad. She's near the fireplace, brooding. He feels like he's done something wrong.

"What is it?"

He balks before approaching her, his voice coming out in a sycophantic squeak that makes his blood run cold. He is afraid: afraid she'll find him some day. That she'll offer her hand and he'll take it with no qualms, allowing her to pull him up, away from those doubts cramming his mind when she gets too close.

"Why do you never let me in?"

He's drowning.

Why? Why? The answer is immediate, pulled right from his brain by that tight awareness that has always been more of a curse than a blessing. Because Ominis Gaunt feels that he is phrogging in other people's existence until they get tired and throw him into the nearest garbage. Because he has never found a place where he could sit down, wind his legs and feel at peace. Because if one day someone finds him with his defenses down, when he hits the bottom of the bin headfirst, he will never forgive himself.

"I don't know how." His inveterate answer comes, drawing a sigh from her. She always drops the subject after, and he feels safe.

This time, she breaches the armor again, and he has got no time to glue it back.

"Come here."

His hands tremble when he follows, sitting down next to her. She opens her palm to him and he feels it on his leg.

"Take it."

Her fingers feel soft to the touch, slipping between his as if filling up a space in his heart he had missed, pushing back his doubts and making a home for itself. He holds her hand and runs his thumb on her knuckles.

"What does this mean?" He asks feebly.

"That you can do much more."

He feels the corner of his lips push down in a grimace. "I don't know h—"

"I'll show you."

Her movements are languid and elegant like a snake, and he feels like she might strangle him and cut his breath and leave him for dead. But he wants to keep holding her hand.

"What do I do?"

"Come here."

This time, he listens.

She lets him move first, wrap his arms around her, as if testing her shape. He runs his hands over her delicate ribs, then down to the soft curve of her waist, then around her; feels the weight in his arms, like she could crush him at any moment. But she doesn't.

She lets him pull her on him, giving him her body. His hands are shaking and he feels inadequate to hold her; to keep her safe and not let her fall.

"Just do what feels right," she whispers.

None of this feels right. But it feels comfortable, and it feels different, and it feels like his heart is slowing down and his weight is meeting the ground and pushing against it like he will never need to get up anymore.

And there are her lips. He feels them with his fingertips; the curve at the top, the soft flesh, the sticky texture of her lipstick. He brings his trembling mouth to hers for the first time and pulls away just as quickly.

"I'm sorry…" he almost cries again.

"Do it again."

He swallows and pushes his lips against hers. He doesn't have the courage to move and breathes against her mouth.

She giggles and his heart breaks, because of course he was doing it wrong. "I'm sorr—"

Her mouth moves against his, takes his bottom lip in a quick suckle and then frees it again. He holds his breath until he can't stay still anymore.

"How does that feel?" she asks.

"More…"

Something inside him cracks open at her taste, pushes and pulls and crushes him, and he holds on to her. It's all too much and it's all not enough. He licks his lips and tastes her lipstick and he wishes he could see her.

When she cups his cheek, he flinches.

"This feels…"

Horrible. Good. Terrifying. Perfect. Different.

"We can go slow," she says, and it's more than he could ask for. "But I'm here, and I'm yours."

He nods and attempts to find her, and he presses his forehead against her collarbone. She's warm there.

"Thank you," He's crying against her skin, and she skims her hand against his back.

He feels naked, a brush of cold hair against his chest where his defenses have cracked. She's pulling his armor down with a gentle touch, and he lets her until he hears it hit the ground loudly.

"You can relax now." He thinks he hears her say. Perhaps it was a dream. And when he hesitantly brushes his lips against her skin, he allows her in.

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vltnoire · 1 year

Text

date or ditch

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ suna x fem!reader. anotha enemies to 🤔

when your date ditches you, the most unexpected person shows up instead.

“Well, look who’s here. I’d say you look like you decided to just sit in a restaurant and not order anything but a glass of water out of impulse or you just got ditched by a date. Either way I couldn’t care less.”

God, out of all the people, why send him your way? Why send anyone your way today?

“How on earth do you know I’m here? Stalking much?” You shifted your gaze from him to the glass window, observing the falling raindrops. Maybe your date didn’t show up because of the rain. Or maybe he just backed out at the last minute and forgot to tell you. Or maybe his car broke down on the way here and his phone died–

Not like you care anyway. Probably just like how he doesn’t care about the date he was supposed to show up to hours ago. And to make things worse, the last person on your list of people that infuriate me to no end that I absolutely give no shit about shows up instead. Like it was meant to make things any better. If anything, things were the opposite for you and not for Suna. He sure looked like he was having the time of his life making fun of you.

“You do know that your date is my cousin right?” That immediately catches your attention, eyes widening and your mouth left opening. As if things couldn’t get any better, you find yourself jumping out of the frying pan into the fire.

“With that stupid look on your face right now, I find it reasonable as to why any of your dates wouldn’t even bother showing up.” Stupid Suna and his stupid fucking remarks.

“You did this, didn't you? You tattled about me to him about things that aren’t true just like how you spread rumours about me in school. Can’t you leave whatever personal vendetta you have against me out of my social life? Learn to fix that attitude of yours and then maybe you’ll know why you don’t get girls.”

“Correction. Half true. And be glad I’m not the one that started the rumours. I don’t have a personal vendetta over you by the way, that sounds like a you problem. And why should I get girls when watching you suffer is my main source of entertainment?” You receive a kick under the table from him.

“That’s not even the bare minimum of what someone of good human decency would do but thank you for being self-aware I guess?”

From the corner of your eye you cannot really tell what other downfalls he’s praying on you but after throwing you a quick glance, he gets up and you hope he doesn’t come back.

A few minutes later he comes back. And what you don’t expect is for dinner to be served.

–

“What even is that?” Suna doesn’t even bother to hide the disgust on his face.

“Sylvanian Families. Why ask if you’re not gonna play with me?” Sitting on the floor, you look up at Suna who’s standing by your doorway.

“Just because I don’t wanna play doesn’t mean I can’t ask.”

“Oops. Forgot that you’re dumb. It’s okay if your curiosity got the best of you.” You go back to arranging the miniature figures. A ball just so happened to be resting near his feet. Now or never, he thinks. The ball crashes into your beautifully arranged figures all thanks to Suna. You began blubbering until your mom and Suna’s came to check on you only to find Suna being the ever goody two-shoes he is consoling you. What a b word.

–

“What’re you reading?” You don't bother sparing a glance at him as he enters your bedroom and flops on your bed.

“None of your business. Get out of my room.” Your eyes remain glued to the book in your hand.

“What’s with the mood, missy? I didn’t even do anything.”

“Other than breathing and existing, you annoy the hell out of me.”

“Gimme that book.” He reaches for it by you slap his hand away on time.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Why should I?”

“Why shouldn’t you?”

“Get away from me. You have so many other people to bother and why would you choose me?”

“Why wouldn’t I choose you?” He makes a grab for your book and flips through the pages.

“Suna! Give it back!” You try prying the book away from him by pulling his arms but he’s already caught sight of the content of a few pages of the book.

“No can do. Ooh, y/n’s reading romance. You wanna be in love so badly huh. Fortunately nobody would ever feel the same way about you. So stop being delusional.”

“Shut up and get off of me!” He wouldn’t get up from laying atop your body so pushing him off the bed was the only choice. The only bad thing you weren’t expecting is falling on top of him.

Has his eyes always been this colour? You never really knew what the colour of his eyes were now that your face was centimetres away from his.

“Huh.” His scoff pulled you out of whatever daze you were in before you ran out of your bedroom with your book clutched in your arm. Suna wondered whether it was the summer heat or you that made his cheeks grow warm.

–

“Thanks. You going home alone?” Suna accepts the drink you claimed to have ‘accidentally gotten due to pressing the wrong button on the vending machine and had no idea who to give it to and what a coincidence the only person you know who so happens to like this drink is none other than you’.

“You’re not welcome. Why does it matter to you if I’m going home alone? You don’t seem to care about me anyway so why ask?” Just as you turn around to walk away from him, you feel a gentle grip on your wrist.

“I’m not telling you whether you can or cannot go home alone. You’re going home with me after practice. No questions.” He drags you into the gym and makes you sit down on the bleachers despite you being reluctant and throwing a tantrum in front of his teammates.

“What was that about? Being all buddy-buddy with y/n now huh.” Atsumu bumps into Suna’s shoulder with a smug expression on his face.

“Fuck off.”

“I will. Only if you give me her number.”

“What do you even need it for?”

“Talk to her. Date her. Marry her.”

“All the more reason to not give you her number.”

“Why can I not talk to her? It’s not as if you’re her boyfriend or anything, right? I mean, you two literally hate each other's guts for God knows how long so there’s no way–” Atsumu looks at Suna who’s looking at you and then he looks at you. And he looks back to Suna.

“Damn. Who would’ve thought I’d be involved in a love triangle?” Atsumu slaps his friend in the back and a red-faced Suna shoves him off before walking away.

–

There was never really a concrete reason as to why you grew up loathing Suna. He grew up tormenting you so why not respond in kind.

“What’s the real reason you’re here?” You blow off the steam from your ramen before taking a bite out of it only to end up gasping from the burn on your tongue. Suna bites back a chuckle and shoves his drink your way.

“You really wanna know the truth?”

“Why would I not?”

“Fine then. Just promise me one thing.” He holds out a pinky finger.

“You’re seventeen and you’re still going around making pinky promises?” Nonetheless, you curl your pinky finger on his.

“Just don’t run away after what I’m about to say.”

“You’re making it sound like you’re plotting something dangerous but okay.” You pull your finger away and lean against the seat as you sip your Suna’s drink.

“Well, let’s just say my cousin kind of sort of not really somehow unintentionally got our phones switched up and he thought he was asking his crush out who unexpectedly had the same name as you and I know that’s fucking crazy but he’s embarrassed and told me to go in his stead because he knew how much I li–” He hoped that you didn’t catch on to what he was about to say after realising he had said so much in a minute without getting a response out of you.

“Hey. Don’t let it get to your head. I’m just here because my cousin feels bad okay, not–”

Out of all the reactions he thought he would get out of you, you laugh.

“If you wanted to go on a date with me so badly, all you had to do was ask.”

“I am many things, but I’m not a desperate person.”

“Mhm. I like how obsessed with me you are. Makes me feel like the most important person in the world.” You smile.

He suppose he won’t be able to deny that. Not when you look like the prettiest thing he’s ever seen.

#suna x reader #suna fluff #suna rintarou x reader #suna rintarou fluff #suna rintarou headcanons #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu headcanons

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two-white-butterflies · 2 years

Text

tall woman | daemon targaryen x modern!reader

Description: Daemon hides you in Kingslanding as his new mistress. Princess Rhaenyra's questioning leads you to admit feelings you weren't sure existed.

You spent 3 months with Daemon in Dragonstone, and you wanted to stay there. Until, he was called to his brother's courts. He explained to you what kind of world you were transported in – they somehow had dragons but no cellphones. You sighed while placing on another garment of clothing, Kingslanding was quite hot – nay, it was hell on earth. But you needed to blend in, at least until you find out a way to return home.

He walks inside your room and leans on the frame of the door. You were ravishing – beautiful, and he liked that. He treads towards you, sitting on a chair beside your mirror. "I already told everyone about a new guest in my household – but I didn't tell them you 'came' from the future. That wouldn't look good for me" he announces while you turn your body to face him.

He stands up and places a necklace on your neck. "What's my cover anyways? An ambassador? A foreign princess?" You question as he chuckles, clasping the necklace behind your neck. "I told them that you were my mistress from Volantis" he chuckles as you gasp audibly.

"How dare you!" You exclaim as he rolls his eyes. How dare this man call you his mistress? Never in a thousand years would you stoop that low. "Calm down, won't you? I bring a few of my mistresses here – that's quite literally the only way we won't arouse suspicion" he remarks while you groan.

You were thrust into this world and now, he was forcing you into a role. What do mistresses even look like anyways? "You could've just told them that I was your maid or like a slave" You exasperate while he shrugs. "Where's the fun in that?" he questions while you hit his arm lightly.

"Asshole" You mutter as he walks away.

---

You had hoped for a quiet morning near the balcony. Daemon told you that you didn't have to show yourself in the courts anyways. Which was a sigh of relief because you didn't really know what to do there. Everything was perfect, until Princess Rhaenyra decided to come along.

She walks towards the balcony as a few of the servants began to fill both of your cups. "Lady Y/N – you must be my uncle's new mistress. I've heard a lot about you from Sir Cole" she smiles while sitting down in the metal chair beside you.

Judging from her snowy hair and purple eyes – she was Rhaenyra (Daemon's niece.) You curtsey in her direction as she takes a sip of her wine in return. "Yes, my princess" you replied politely while she takes a deep breath.

"You arrival caused quite a stir in my father's courts. You see my uncle is still married to Lady Rhea Royce, but I never quite liked her." she admits with a small laugh while turning to look in your direction.

She pauses briefly, "I must admit – you seem kind and benevolent. But my uncle is incapable of love, he's had different goes at it and none ever resulting into something good. I care for my uncle, but I worry for you – you are an impressionable and beautiful young lady, who still has other choices for her" she explains as you frown.

She seemed brash, as if she didn't love her uncle. "Other choices?" you questioned as she nodded, "Other easier choices" she corrects and now it was your turn to chuckle.

"I didn't choose to be here, my princess. If I had a choice, I wouldn't even step a foot in this realm and maybe it would've been easier so. But your uncle has been nothing but kind to me – and I owe it to him," you argued as she offered you great insult.

She remained regal however – as if she was used to people talking to her in this manner. She smiles and takes a deep breath, she stands up – not even bothering to take her eyes off you. "I apologize, Lady Y/N. I was merely explaining my observations – but I see now that experience is the best teacher" she replies before stepping off the room and heading towards the door.

---

Daemon places his hands in the corners of his lips, a silly frown began to creep in his face. You look up from your book as he began to walk closer towards you. "You look taller" he mutters while you roll your eyes. "Are you drunk again?" You joke as he pulls you from the bed, forcing you to stand up.

He places a hand on your head, measuring your height in his imagination. "Nope, you are most definitely taller" he confirms as you sigh. And he was most definitely drunk.

You break free from his grasp and walk towards the door. "Where are you going?" he asks, wondering what you were doing when he was gone. "Princess Rhaenyra invited me to one of her brunches slash tea parties (?)" you explain as he pulls you back beside him.

"You don't really have to attend" he comforts while placing a hand on your shoulder. "Really and do what?" You raised your eyebrows as he takes the book away from your hands – tossing it carelessly on the floor.

"Let's see. I could either buy stilts, so I could reach the new heights of my tall woman." he places a hand on your head and bites his lips. "Or she could kneel" he adds while pushing you down in a kneeling position.

AN: send me urs reqs, also I don't do smut...sadly :((

tags: @mypatrochilles @chevelledahuman @omgsuperstarg @flora1712 @dazecrea @sonnensplitter @scmdsblog @fairyfolkloresposts @thatchampagnebitch @m-indkiller @juuuuubbn @maribeldr @myheartisinajuicebox @akinatrix @anginoguera @a-lil-bit-nuts @thenovelcarnival @wulfriedxanthene @themology

#Daemon Targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen #rhaenyra targaryen

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rinphoria · 2 years

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HI KAIII CONGRATS ON UR MILESTONE !! i am here for a drabble req hehe >:3 so ! i was wonderinggg if i could get “oh stop pouting, i’m coming.” wif dabi ( or katsuki !! u pick ! ) ILY LOTS <33

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐑 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐈𝐍' — a milestone event

დ ft. dabi & gn!reader

დ wc: 0.8k

დ info: college au

COCO THANK YOU!!! i always want to write more for dabi but never feel like i’ll do him justice <\3 hopefully this is okay and you enjoy!

your boyfriend is an introvert. he preferred to live a solitary life, one where he wasn't forced to fake smiles and play nice with people he'd rather not give the light of day. of course, there were a few exceptions, but he was perfectly content existing for himself and viewing those who so happened to surround him as nothing more than insignificant background characters in his life.

one of those aforementioned exceptions was you.

he wasn't quite sure how you'd slipped through the cracks and wormed your way into his life, but he could say that he was grateful that you had. things weren't always as smooth as they were in the present—and he had himself to blame for that—but you were persistent. you put up with his initial coldness and standoffish tendencies until his snarky behavior shifted and dabi became the charming, funny, yet still sarcastic man you had grown familiar with—fallen in love with. if anyone asked him when he started accepting you, letting you penetrate his bubble, he wouldn't be able to give them a straight answer. all he knew was that you went from a stranger to the most important person in his life.

he always told you that there wasn't anything he wouldn't do for you, and he thought that to be true up until this very moment.

"do we really have to do this?" dabi questioned from below you, head resting on the pillow and eyes closed. one of your hands was pushing the hair out of his face while the other was focused on drawing a black wing at the corner of his eye. it wasn't the eyeliner he was complaining about; he didn't mind a bit of makeup. your reason for putting on the makeup was his cause for concern.

"why shouldn't we?" you flipped the pen so that the opposite end was the one near his eye. your hand made work of lightly smudging the cream into a smokey look. "you're going to look pretty."

"you know that's not what i meant." his hand that was sitting comfortably on your waist suddenly moved to pinch your midsection. the action made you flinch and you gasped at the possibility of having ruined his eye look. thankfully, you hadn't, but you still slapped his arm to scold him.

"come on, touya, you've gotta leave the house once in a while."

"i get out." he challenged.

"yeah, for class. and that's if you even decide to go." you knew better than anyone that your boyfriend wasn't fond of people. he enjoyed your company and that of his few friends but beyond the select bunch, he kept to himself. it didn't bother you—not everyone was a people person—but at this rate, he was going to become a recluse.

you patted his chest to gesture that you were finished and scooted back so that you were straddling his thighs instead of his torso. touya sat up, cyan eyes framed by thick lashes and dark makeup now on display.

"it's going to be fun." you tried to persuade him. when you invited him to the outing, you made sure that it would be something lowkey that was outside and didn't include too many people. a few of your friends were hosting a bonfire and you thought that it would be a calm enough gathering to ease your boyfriend into creating a social life.

he listlessly hummed at your words, choosing not to respond. instead, he dipped his head down to press his lips against yours. the kiss was soft and short—he nearly pulled away before you had time to kiss him back. his lips brushed across the length of your jaw—from your ear to your chin—before latching onto the pulse on your neck. your breath caught in your throat as he lightly sucked a bruise into your skin. part of you knew this was a distraction, but the other, larger part of you was too absorbed in pleasure to care. touya didn't continue on for much longer though, opting to snuggle his head into the crook of your neck. "are you sure i can't convince you to change your mind?" he whispered.

you sighed, gently pushing his shoulders and effectively tearing him off of you. touya held back a groan at his failed tactics. he rolled his neck from one side to the other before he faced you. your lip was poked out in a pleading pout. it wasn't a look he saw often, but even if he was met with it every day, he still wouldn't be able to tell you no.

"oh stop pouting, i'm coming." he begrudgingly gave in. you let out an excited squeal, peppering kisses all over his face. you stood up to collect your things, going on about how nice it would be to have him by your side tonight. touya listened from the bed as he mentally steeled himself for the hours ahead.

but maybe it wouldn't be as bad since you'd be there with him.

thanks for reading! comments and reblogs appreciated <3

#[დ] — summer lovin’#dabi x reader #touya x reader #mha x reader #bnha x reader #dabi fluff #mha fluff #bnha fluff #dabi imagine #mha imagines #bnha imagines #dabi scenarios #mha scenarios #bnha scenarios #dabi drabble #mha drabbles #bnha drabble #[დ] — bnha

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ephemeralove · 23 days

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The monk hums to himself, seeking after his next victim target … patient.

And aha! It is not long before she is sighted.

“Miss Katarina! Back so soon—”

Azama pauses almost mid-step, brows furrowing lightly. Maybe he’s imagining things. The wallflower isn't much for making merry on the best of days, he's come to learn, and it's not like she looks devastated or anything. She just. Looks like Katarina, he supposes.

He sits on her cot beside her, hands falling together in his lap. Thumbs twiddle.

“I heard you did well out there,” he starts. “I heard that the odds were not in your favour, but you still stuck it out for as long as you could.”

His smile is gentle, far from its usual. There is a strange lack of mirth in his expression, for once, though it is fleeting - too fleeting perhaps, as he’s back to chuckling in the next moment.

“Well! If I were in a fight like that, I don’t think I’d have had the motivation to keep bothering with it at all, hoho!”

He jumps back up as someone calls his name - truly, there is no rest for the wicked... But he doesn't leave without a parting gift for a farewell: possessed by some impulse, he delivers unto Katarina one, two, HQ headpats. He’s got it on good authority that girls love it when people pat their heads. “Ya did good, lass. Chin up!”

And like a whirlwind ever on the move, the monk prepares to go bother fix up someone else.

At some point, far away from the action, in whatever place her existence is least incumbent upon those flitting hither and thither around her, Katarina is alone. Dark gray casts out toward Gronder Field, staring but not seeing; most of what matters to her has already departed the fray, though she hears Queen Caeda still rains terror upon her foes.

But in this quiet and unremarkable corner, the once and former tactician detachedly mulls over her deficiencies. The eye she turns upon herself is distant and appraising, and as familiar as the disappointment she finds in its place. Each time she should have died and didn't; each time she should have died, and did; at her core she is hardly changed, still that same futile creature who struggles so much and in vain.

"...Oh, Professor Azama." If she recalls correctly, he approached her first with that ineffable whimsy of his, the memory of some exuberance prickling at her mind ere she pulls herself from thought back to reality. Happenstance has saddled him with her company enough times that she accepts his more easily -- she would say 'that she understands him better now,' but no, he is just as befuddling as before. She doesn't mind.

He is confusing this time as well, sitting beside her on her cot with what seems to be a sort of hesitation. Had she earned his pity this year, too? The thought gnashes her lips together in a wry, unsteady smile. It is true, when she thinks on it: she has never accomplished anything, here nor elsewhere, worthy of pride. It was even him who she'd forced to cut her down once, was it not?

"... ... ...? ???????"

And yet for all her moping and silence, Azama disarms her of her melancholy swiftly and succinctly, his palm touching the crown of her head not once, but twice. Without leaving so much as a moment for Katarina to react, the monk freely sashays away. A shame, as it means he shall likely miss the confoundment on her face, and the way her brow twitches, dancing between the furrow of confusion and the skip-up in surprise.

But... he thought she did well, did he not?

Though it may not be pride in her, it is near enough to it that Katarina clings to it like a fool to the spider's thread. Her gaze remains with her, no longer called to Gronder Field but to the warped scar upon her own skin. Vainglory will never be her vice, but... ah, she supposes that not all of her choices are fouler than fair. She may struggle in vain so much more often than not, but there is something to be said for trying.

#carefreemonk #sorry azammy this ask didn't come together as well as i'd hoped #like trying to pour oobleck into a bottle this one

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byte-the-bullet · 1 month

Text

A slacker’s philosophy

Page 1-Motivation and Yue

Don’t do anything more than you’re told to-you might have extra pressure put on you.

Never say no, but only do what you’re asked to-do not take initiative.

Live comfortably and relax, who needs stress when you’re doing just fine as a doormat?

Do the bare minimum. Never turn things in early and make sure everything is done to the minimum standard.

All play, no work-find a way to escape responsibilities at all costs. No matter who you see, are they really happy? The overachievers, who try everything to their fullest.

The advanced, being told they’re gifted.

The talented, worshiped by those beneath them.

The famous, with lives of sparkling gold.

But the slacker? The failure? Those who are called lazy, and ignorant?

Ignore them, we are told.

They are useless scum, we are assured.

But then we see those people who have told us these things.

The overachievers, who will soon meet failure-tears streaming down their faces.

The advanced, thrown away and exhausted-told they are broken and needy.

The talented, crumbling at jealousy and dwindling skill-dropping dead at a hint of criticism.

The famous, surrounded by controversy and lies-brought blood by those who once loved them.

See, the slacker who spends all day in blissful rest.

See, the failure who has no worries about their future.

See, the ignorant who are unaware of the things others think.

They all share in common these things, they do not fear death, they live life without regret, they exist not to be great-but to be happy. ‘Slacker’ is a compliment, to be a failure is to be happy.

And he is happy. This ‘Slacker’ is named Yue Lynne, a young man with the gift of being completely, and utterly, useless. Yue is the very definition of a slacker-he sits around all day, every day. A middle school dropout who used to be a prodigy, now going around living in a run-down tiny house without heating and without electricity or water, not old enough to drink, and without a driver’s license. He works part time at a call center, and just kind of… Exists. Yue doesn’t worry, he doesn’t stress, he just casually exits. Well… Today is just another day, Yue is just lounging around in the break room at his work, taking his sweet time falling asleep in the not-so-comfortable plastic chairs, looking at the peeling light gray walls and the dust-packed vents, the refrigerator he’s stolen food from so many times before, and the stupidly heavy metal door. Yue stands up, yawning and walking over to the dirty white refrigerator-he only stood up because he had to eat something-and so he pulled open the refrigerator door, eyeing up someone else’s lunch and quickly snatching it, making sure to avoid the unidentified rotting substance near his hand. He popped the food in the microwave for about a minute, then proceeded to eat it without even bothering to read the label on the container or check what kind of food it was. He didn’t even take a second to taste the food, instead wolfing it down until there was nothing left-only to come to the realization that there was another man watching him eat. “Yue.” And that other man looked very upset. “That was my lunch, you bastard…” Yue, however, completely ignored this-responding with a quick-“Oh? Okay, I won’t do it again.” Of course this was a lie, but the other man simply shook his head and walked off with a sigh. By now it was about time to leave, it’s not like Yue ever stuck around for the full work day-especially not when he knew that he was getting paid to do nothing; he’d disconnected his company phone and computer years ago on his first day. And of course everyone knew; and everyone wondered how Yue was getting away with it… Maybe he’d somehow cornered the company, or maybe their boss just liked Yue? No, Yue hadn’t done anything like that-he’d be too lazy to come up with some elaborate plot. But there he was. Four years of doing absolutely jack shit, hired at 18, turning 21 in September, with a cozy life of daydreaming and sleep ahead of him. He was the definition of a slacker, an eternal laze without wants or needs, someone unbothered by the world and people around him… He could go wherever he wanted on foot, do whatever he wanted with a hundred in his pocket, and exist in peace forever. On a whim, he decided to go to a nearby church, peering inside he couldn’t help but laugh to himself-so many people all putting in such an effort when a good 70% don’t even believe all of it. He shook his head and kept walking, stopping dead in his tracks as he looked over at a poster-a new art gallery? Here? In this flavorless city? He had to see it, so for once in his life he made an effort to get there.

Kicking trash out of the sidewalk and putting it in dustbins as he walked, collecting the occasional old coin or ripped paper bill, all the way until he made it to the gallery-an art museum he’d been to many times before just to laugh at the people dissecting a paint splatter on the floor. At one point he glued a shoe to the ceiling and watched stuck-up critics praise the ‘creativity’ and ‘excellence’-only for Yue to be unable to hold in his laughter. This time however, he was greeted by a stunning ceramic sculpture of some kind of ancient dragon ten feet tall, an impossible feat to be sure. He stood there for a good thirty minutes, just staring at it, taking in the sight. His human, pale green eyes locked on the dragon’s light blue eyes, his pale skin shimmering like the beautiful sculpture’s cold white scales, his hand reached out to graze the sculpture- to trail over it’s carefully crafted teal ceramic fur, despite the twenty or so ‘DO NOT TOUCH’ signs pasted around it. He was awestruck, only to be pulled away by one very confused looking woman. “Are you alright sir?” Yue ignored her, completely enamored with the sculpture until he was smacked on the head. “Snap outta it, I get that it’s pretty but it’s just a sculpture.” The woman was now crass, rolling her eyes. “You art geeks sure are a weird ass bunch.” She proceeded to walk off, leaving Yue significantly confused and now slightly concussed. After taking one last look at the dragon, Yue had to remind himself-“Just… Just a sculpture. Nothing more.” And he began walking to observe the other new exhibits. Each piece was intricate, all forming something incredible-he now stood in front of a clay landscape of deep China blue and cold white, detailing a heaven that was far too beautiful for him to avert his gaze from, each ceramic animal was so detailed, gazing over a lake of mirror, and a waterfall stopped in time made of stunning silver glass-each and every leaf or blade of grass was delicately sculpted and polished-and Yue just… He couldn’t look away. But again he was interrupted, this time by a young man his age-“Do you like it?” The young man’s head tilted, and Yue responded quickly this time-“Yes, I-I… It’s beautiful.” The young man gave a slight giggle, “Oh, you do? Then tell me why you think it’s beautiful.” Yue didn’t spare a moment before again responding-“Because it must’ve been ridiculously stressful.” The man’s eyes narrowed a little bit in confusion, and he quietly responded-“Well… That’s certainly a… ‘Unique’ view..? Why do you think it’d be stressful..?”

Yue again responded instantly, “Nobody would put that much effort into something without a reason to, so it’s safe to assume that the reason was some kind of pressure.” Now thoroughly baffled, the young man responds-“Well… I guess that makes sense..?” Yue looks at the younger man fully now, he’s around the same height as Yue with pale freckled skin and doe like hazel and green eyes, thin eyebrows and a rather tiny frame too. The young man’s bitten down nails are attached to soft looking hands grasping a studio camera, and his relaxed shoulders carry a small leather messenger’s bag. His hair is a rusted umber color, held in a short ponytail and accompanied by sideswiped bangs. “Are you some kind of photographer? Do you work for the museum?” Yue stepped back, and the other man now stepped forward with a smile. “Yes! I’m a photographer, I mean- I don’t work for the museum but- I do work for a few arts magazines! My name is Leo Mux!” Yue hadn’t heard his name before, other than the occasional mention from the magazine’s his mom had kept, but he attempted to meet the enthusiastic reply-“Oh, my name is Yue Lynne, I think I’ve heard of you…” Leo immediately lit up even more, now directly invading Yue’s personal space. “Really?! That’s great! I had no idea that anyone all the way out here would know about me!” Leo seemed all too excited, and was now only half a foot away from Yue-who not only didn’t mind, but enjoyed being able to talk to someone so energetic. “I’ve seen your name on a few magazines, yeah.” Yue responded, and Leo happily nodded and backed away-this time Yue was the one to close the gap and get closer to Leo. “Wow… I had no idea..!” Leo’s response was a bit too enthusiastic for Yue, but he tolerated it well and kept talking to him. “So… Leo, what do you like taking pictures of?” Leo finally quit moving around so much, seeming a lot calmer. “Just about anything I can get pa-“ Yue cut him off with-“No, what do you like taking photos of?” And Leo paused, a little stunned, then responded with a bright smile, “Everything! Sometimes I just run around with my old cheap camera and take pictures of everything in sight…” ‘He’s like a little kid.’ Yue couldn’t help but think, before getting an idea. “Oh? Everything? Then if I took you around the city, you’d end up with a bunch of photos at the end of the day, right?” Yue’s idea was simple-and just about the most effort he’d ever put into anything; take Leo, and drag him around the city, post the photos on the city hall’s webpage (and a few social media sites) and hopefully get one or two new faces into the dreary ass place. Yue didn’t really understand why he was exerting so much effort, but he had the time, and the energy, and now… “Yeah! That’d be amazing-thanks for offering!” He had Leo’s response. And so Yue went home after securing Leo’s number, and spent the rest of the day doing absolutely nothing.

#bytethebullet #original story #story #WIP

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love4annie · 10 months

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Holding on for dear life.

John Shelby x OC (Martha)

The sun rarely shone in Watery Lane. Birds never chirped.

-"Get out, leave! Leave me alone!"

Grey was a prominent color; a grey sky, grey smoke, grey people.

The wooden table fell with a heavy thud, bringing down plates and cups that were once sitting peacefully on it. It wasn't that sound that bothered Martha, though, nor did the shattering's, but rather her mom's yells.

-"I don't want to see your face!", she cried, eyes flooding with emotion as it did with tears. And although it seemed like it, that emotion wasn't fury.

Perhaps it was sorrow, dejection, or even exhaustion, but she certainly wasn't angry.

That reasoning broke Martha's heart more than she thought possible, realizing that her mother had grieved so much that she was no longer herself.

-"Mum, dear Mummy, let me clean this and i'll leave, i promise.."

But the older woman severly flinched as soon as her own daughter took the first step toward her. She stared, eyes distraught, at her mother, whom she had considered the strongest person to ever exist, as her soulless, paling frame curled on itself in a corner, shaking with sobs while craddling her head in her quacking arms, as if she was going to be killed, as if she had just killed.

Her mother's once unwavering gaze trembled, looking at the wall but seeing something further than the room's borders.

Perhaps her late husband was still haunting her unstable mind.

Martha exhaled.

-"Please..", her mother begged, chanting the mumbled word over and over.

And with that, the teenager left.

-"She's gone mad again..", John declared, watching as their neighboring door went open and shut, revealing a disheveled Martha who then sat on the entrance's filthy stairs.

-"Shut your mouth, John-boy!" His mother lightly smacked the back of his head, face harsh at her son's rude statement.

Her features softened, though, when, at his lack of response, she glanced at him and noticed his concerned expression, as he stood with an uncharactristic stillness.

-"Well, why don't you go sit with her, hm?"

At the feeling of her gentle hand on his shoulder, and the sudden change in her attitude, he shifted his blues to meet hers.

Despite not usually forcing herself into situations that didn't directly influence her, feeling like she would only curse the unfortunate and make it worse, Mrs. Shelby had always kept her house welcoming for the little family of three, then of two, living a door away. Her kids were childhood friends with their daughter, the late father teached her sons how to fix a broken ceiling, stopped some of their mischieves, joined in others, and sometimes even held back her drunken husband. The mother used to be an inspiration for her; a woman of firm and elegant posture, too graceful for someone raised in the mud of Birmingham and yet obviously hardened with the poor and difficult life she had grown used to. However, her friend's sudden collapse was a reminder that her own fall was near.

So, John sympathizing with the girl could do nothing but good.

She sent him an encouraging nod, caressing the child by her side and the child in her large womb.

And with that, he was off.

-"May she live in peace, may she live in peace.."

Voice hushed, Martha repeated the only prayer she could articulate, busy worrying about any noise coming from beyond the thin walls.

-"May she live in peace.."

Martha would deal with this again, and again, as many times she had to, for as long as needed, just to keep her mother beside her.

-"May she live in peace..", she selfishly wished, despite knowing that demise would be a more merciful fate for her mother than prolonged suffering.

-"May she live.."

-"I thought you liked to have a lazy walk rather than sit out all the afternoon", John loudly interrupted.

He studied her tense stature, as she rocked back and forth without acknowledging his presence, more focused on listening to whatever was happening inside.

He traced his signature smile, hoping he could make her socket less wide and her fist less tight.

-"I'm losing her", was the first thing she told him, as he settled down to her left, though it seemed more directed to herself; less of a declaration and more of a realization.

-"I can't lose her." She turned to him, pain written all over her being, so stiff that she was slightly quivering. Her tormented brown orbs darted quickly, moving with her mother's slowly decreasing wails, flickering between his pair and the metalic knob, pondering if she should go back inside, near her.

-"You won't", he assured, gaining part of her attention, "not yet."

Silence engulfed them in a limited solace, and none of them felt it was necessary to fill it. Eachother's sole company was enough to make the cold, bitter minutes, maybe hours, bearable. Martha was unsure if the blurriness was tears or a haze ovetaking her senses. It could be both, she didn't care at that moment, and she likely would never care while recalling the dreaded memory.

She heard shuffling, a low hiss, and she stood up, ready to rush to her mother's side, accidently dropping John's vest that was draped over her body somewhere along her daze.

She was beaten to it, as the door unexpectedly cracked open, making her freeze at the spot.

-"You're crying.." Her mother pointed out weakly. She looked _was_ tired, finished, darkness spilling from her eyes and around them. Locks of her hair were pulled out. Her fingernails were bitten anxiously. Her strained comment indicated an extremely sore throat. But she stood, feigning strength, courage, and she met her daughter's gape.

Once she regained use of her limbs, Martha immediately raised her sleeves to messily wipe the droplets running down her flushed cheeks, yet the more she blinked the more they ressurfaced.

-"You'll hurt yourself." Her mother's soft fingers wrapped around her own, and Martha instinctively brought them to her lips to depose loving kisses on them.

A mother's embrace will forever be her children's very first home, their safest haven where they could either laugh or weep uncontrolably.

A mother is a finite gift of unconditional tenderness.

A mother is a blessing whose vanishing is even more agonizing for those who had once possessed it.

-"Let's head inside.."

And despite hearing what she had longed to hear, despite having thousands of better things to say back, the only one she formulated was:

-"I have to clean."

-"On it." She had totally forgotten, disregarded John's presence.

He hurried through the door, promptly initiating on his task, and Martha could only be grateful he offered her even just a little longer while in her mother's arms.

-"Let's go home", her mother urged, cupping her innocent visage.

And at that, she replied:

-"Yes, dear Mummy."

#john shelby #john shelby x oc #john shelby x reader #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinder fanfic #john shelby fanfic

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jeonsfrvr · 1 year

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shield : jjk (rmverse)

⇢ pairing: security guard!jungkook x bartender!reader ⇢ genre: fluff, romance, smut ⇢ word count: 18.6k ⇢ warnings: unprotected sex, oral sex, rough sex, lots of dirty talk it’s pretty filthy, a brief scene of harassment (it’s not graphic, no touching involved), spanking, hair pulling, jungkook has a big dick, jungkook is the cutest shyest boy to ever exist, reader and jk blush A LOT, jk in a leather jacket that’s about it ⇢ summary: An unfortunate, messy situation involving a drunk asshole not taking no for an answer prompts your boss to hire a new security guard to stay near, just for safe-keeping. When all you were expecting was a guy in his late thirties who couldn’t bother to smile, much less be friendly, you’re pleasantly surprised by the cute, rather shy guy whose job is to keep his eyes on you and protect you for five nights a week.

A/N: I am SOSOSOSO happy with this fic. I had so much fun writing it. This was written in a couple of days where I just sat for straight HOURS writing like,,,,5k words a sitting. I love this with my whole heart and I hope y’all do too. Please, let me know what you think, feedback is, as always, very much appreciated!

Banner was made by the wonderful angel @mikrokosm thank you sm baby!!! this looks so much better than the trashy one i made asjsksj

“I’m so sorry, Hobi,” you apologize for the nth time for the night, tone laced with an immense amount of guilt as you watch Seokjin dab the cloth to the corner of Hoseok’s mouth. Hoseok rolls his eyes and looks up at you with a raised brow.

“Why are-ow,” he hisses and jerks back and Seokjin only murmurs a quick apology before pulling him forward and warning him not to move anymore. “Why are you apologizing? How is this your fault exactly?”

“Well, I mean…” Your words trail off and you huff, crossing your arms and leaning back on a table behind you.

“He’s right, __. It’s not your fault that so many guys that come here are jerks,” Seokjin chips in, leaning away from Hoseok for a second to grab the alcohol to clean the newly formed cut near his mouth.

“Still,” you sigh, shuffling over to Hoseok and placing a hand on his shoulder. He smiles up at you gently, but winces the next second when Jin begins cleaning the cut. You sigh once again. “It wouldn’t have happened if it weren’t for me.”

“Oh shut up, will you?” Hoseok groans. “I’ll just start going to the gym and bulk up for this shit,” he chuckles and you laugh along.

“Actually,” Jin pipes in, finally done with Hoseok and begins to tidy up, patting Hoseok’s arm as a signal that he could get up. He looks up at you. “That won’t be necessary,” he informs you with a smile. “After the last time this-” he pauses to gesture with his finger towards Hoseok, who’s inspecting the cut on his phone camera, referring to the last time Hoseok had intervened with a drunk customer who was getting too pushy with you and ended up with a similar cut on the other side of his face because the guy was just way bigger than him. “-happened, I talked to Yoongi.” Yoongi was the owner and Jin was close friends with him, and he entrusted Jin with managing the place and keep it under his supervision.

“I told that this was happening way too often and that we might need some help to keep things under control,” he stands up from his seat and Hoseok finally looks up at him inquisitively. “He told me to interview some people and bring someone to keep near the bar, watch over for you two.”

“Oh,” your eyebrows raise in interest. “I mean-”

“That’d be great, actually,” Hoseok is quick to intervene. He turns to you. “I’d be happy to take a beating any day for you, __. But my poor face can only take so much before it breaks,” he’s only half-joking, you’re sure of that.

You shake your head with a sympathetic smile and cup his cheeks gently. “I’m sorry,” you repeat with a pout before looking to Jin with a bright smile. “Thanks, Jin. We could use the help.”

Jin nods and informs you that he already has someone lined up for the job. “I’ll give him a call tomorrow so we can decide on when he would start.”

You go home that night, pout still slightly showing on your lips as you relive the events of the night. It always seemed that the creepy, perverted customers sat on your side of the bar, getting too comfortable and flirting with you through drunken slurs and winks. You could deal with the flirting, you were trained for it. You knew what kind of men walked into the bar, you simply ignored their usual attempts with a smile and poured their drinks, hoping the alcohol would soon enough inhibit their ability to speak and they would leave you alone.

But some were persistent, words much too vulgar for your liking, tone making your skin crawl, looking at you like you were a piece of meat parading around for their own viewing pleasure, some going as far as leaning over the counter and going for a grab at you. Those were the ones who caused situations like these, who caused scenes and fights and occasionally brought bruises to Hoseok’s pretty face before security could handle it.

You at least went to sleep that night slightly comforted by the fact that there would eventually be someone there to keep the situation under control from now on. You didn’t dwell on it too much, figuring he would be like the rest. The other security guys were mostly guys in their late thirties, bulked up and had intimidating faces that could put any riot down. You didn’t care much, just so long as they did their job right and allowed you to do yours right as well, without any disturbances.

Whatever you were expecting when you walked in a couple of nights later for the beginning of your shift, it was not that.

There, talking to Jin, stood a guy. A guy that was, if your eyes weren’t deceiving you, the most attractive person you had seen in a long time, and your job allowed you to see too many faces for your liking every single night.

He was gorgeous.

Adorned in all-black attire, as simple as it might sound, it looked entirely too appealing on him. Long, wavy, dark hair covered his forehead and brushed over his eyes slightly. Black leather jacket thrown over his shoulders, it only hid a little bit of his physique. He was quite tall, and you could quite clearly see that he was built even from where you were stood.

“Ah, __!”

Your name is suddenly being called and the stranger’s eyes are now on you at that same moment. You make eye contact right then and you suddenly feel nervous. You were like that around a lot of people, but especially attractive ones. You’re quick to plaster on a smile and make your way over to the two men, trying hard not to stare too much at the handsome stranger whose gaze is still on you.

Jin places a hand on your shoulder the second you’re at arms distance and smiles at Jungkook. “This here is Jeon Jungkook. And he’s going to be your knight in shining armor, your savior, your-”

“I get it, Seokjin,” you chuckle at Jin’s over-exaggerated introduction and look to Jungkook with a polite smile. Based on Jin’s little show and the events that had occurred earlier this week in this very room, you can honestly guess that this would be the new security guy that Seokjin had informed you would be starting very soon.

“It’s nice to meet you, Jungkook,” you stretch you arm out for a greeting and he takes it in his for a gentle handshake, allowing you to catch a glimpse of tattoos adorning his fist, traveling up his arm where his jacket sleeve rides up slightly with the movement.

“Pleasure’s all mine,” he smiles, a very charming smile at that, and you find yourself shaking his hand for too long to be considered normal before dropping your hand quickly with a chuckle, to which he continues to look at you with a curious look in his eyes.

God, he was cute.

“So, um,” you clear your throat and shift on your feet. “When do you start?”

“Tonight,” he immediately answers, stuffing both hands in the back pockets of his jeans. “Hyung told me that you needed a hand around here and honestly,” he pauses with a chuckle. “I could use the pay.”

“Hobi will be thrilled to have you here tonight,” you half-joke and Jin laughs.

“She means Hoseok,” Jin tells Jungkook and Jungkook nods. “He’s supposed to come around in a bit. Poor guy always takes beatings for our pretty princess here-”

“Hey,” you whine when Jin lifts a hand to ruffle your hair. You push it away with a huff, sensing heat traveling to your cheeks due to being the center of attention at the moment, and it only deepens when you look to Jungkook and he seems to be staring at you, seemingly studying you as you stand there. It goes on for a moment and you can’t even bring yourself to make eye contact with him because you seem to be blushing way too much for a simple first encounter with this guy and look to Jin, who’s staring on amusedly.

Saved by the sound of footsteps coming from behind before a loud greeting fills the room, Hoseok finally making his entrance with a bag swung over his shoulder, strutting over with a pretty smile and a healing cut on his cheek.

“Hello, princess,” Hoseok greets you and swings an arm around your shoulder. There goes that nickname again. Your eyes unintentionally flit up to Jungkook’s and his appear to be glued to Hoseok’s arm placed so casually on your shoulder, and the way you comfortably lean into him.

“Hey,” he directs his speech towards Jungkook with a polite smile, before looking questioningly towards Jin, awaiting a response.

“Jungkook, this is Hoseok,” Jin begins. Hoseok then releases your shoulder from his hold and half leans towards Jungkook with an outstretched arm as Jin continues. “He’ll be working with __. These are the only two pretty faces that you need to worry about, everything else is covered.”

“Oh?” Hoseok pauses with Jungkook’s hand still in his and turns to you with a shocked look, which then morphs into one of relief and happiness. “Oh, you’re Jungkook? Ah, welcome aboard,” Hoseok’s tone is excited and you hold back a chuckle as Jungkook just chuckles and murmurs a couple of quiet ‘thanks’.

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” Hobi continues and leans back once again, adjusting the strap of his bag over his shoulder. “But, um, I didn’t expect you to be this young.”

“He’s not that young,” Jin quickly interjects, shrugging. "He’s about __’s age I think,” Jin guesses and you both look at each other at the same time with hints of smiles at your lips.

“Plus,” Jin continues and places a hand on Jungkook’s shoulder with a proud smile gracing his lips, resembling a proud father for some reason. “Our Jungkook here has a black belt in Taekwondo!”

Both yours and Hoseok’s gazes fixate on Jungkook, more impressed than anything and for a moment, his confidence seems to falter and he looks at the ground for a second with a shy smile and shifts his feet, adorned in large combat boots that add onto the irony of this tall man acting coy when being praised.

“So not only will he kick anyone’s ass,” Jin jokes. “It’ll be extra fun to watch.”

During the first week of Jungkook working here, you gather a bit of knowledge about him.

You learn that he takes his job seriously. You didn’t know why exactly, but you had kind of sensed that it would be that way since you first met him, and he only proved you right when his first shift arrived and you don’t think you saw his lips twitch up into a smile even once that night. The night passed without a glitch, his eyes gazing over every single drunk body that sat by the bar, or even just simply passed by.

The following few nights went pretty much the same, albeit a bit slower since it wasn’t terribly busy during weekdays and you had some rare moments to breathe. You couldn’t help it; staring at him. He was just new and you were getting your eyes acquainted with the new handsome guy who happened to be the new security guard who stood in his spot not too far away, adjacent to one of the walls. Hands clasped in front of him, face devoid of any emotion, eyebrows furrowed as he scanned the area.

It went like that for the first week, strictly work, not much interactions but friendly smiles when arriving for work and perhaps exchanging a couple of words before Hoseok would come join you two.

“So,” Seulgi, one of the servers and someone you would consider to be your friend her besides Hoseok, says as she leans against her now closed locker while you put your things away in yours before your shift starts. “New guy’s pretty good, huh?”

“I mean,” you tilt your head a little in thought. “Nothing’s really happened since he started-”

“I meant hot, new guy’s pretty hot,” she starts before you start getting into boring detail about analyzing how he does his job and you immediately chuckle.

“Thought you were hung up on Hoseok?” You tease as you shut your locker and turn to her with a smile and she immediately blushes before scoffing at you.

“Doesn’t mean I’m blind,” she retorts. “Besides, nothing’s happened so far probably because they’re all too busy ogling the new hot security guard, all genders included.”

“Yeah,” you agree with a sigh as you begin to make your way out with her trailing beside you. “He is pretty cute.”

Cute was an understatement. He was mesmerizing. You thought seeing him everyday for two weeks would’ve had you accustomed to his face by now but, again, it’s been two weeks and you still stumble over your words when you manage to bump into him as you step out of the locker room with Seulgi right behind you.

“Shit, sorry. Oh-” Your eyes lock with his and he’s just so close. When have you ever stuttered before? “I-I…Sorry, Jungkook.”

“It’s okay,” his tone is soft and he says it with a smile as he politely steps aside and allows you and your friend to pass by before he begins making his way to the back as well, and you really couldn’t help yourself from looking back at his retreating form down the hall.

“Oh, okay,” Seulgi says in an understanding tone. “I see what it is.”

“You see nothing,” you deadpan and turn to her with a bored glare. “You just stick to trying to get into Hobi’s pants and worry about your own problems-”

“Hey, how dare you- wait! Come back here right now!”

The following week takes a different turn with a switch of events.

Hoseok is usually the one in charge of locking up. After everyone clears out, it’s only you and him that stay till the very last moment as you help each other reorganize drinks back into their places and clean up for what feels like the thousandth time that night.

However, he comes to you before the beginning of your shift in the hallway with a pleading look on his face.

“It’s only for this week, I wouldn’t ask if I really didn’t have to but Namjoon wants us to work on the mixtape so we can have it done by next week and leaving early can buy me an extra hour or two and-”

You cut his rambling off with a chuckle and bring your palms up to pinch at his cheeks, intentionally squeezing firmly.

“On one condition,” you raise your eyebrows and Hoseok already knows that you’ve agreed even if he doesn’t agree to your ‘condition’.

“You let me hear it as soon as it’s done,” you say, very seriously and Hoseok relaxes in your hold before pulling you into a hug.

“Thank you-”

“Oh, sorry.”

You hear a familiar voice once you’re fully enveloped in Hoseok’s arms and you don’t know why you pull away so hastily because nothing was even happening, but you look at Jungkook who stands there like he’s walked in on something that was going on.

“Jungkook,” his name slips out of your lips and you’re beginning to grow accustomed to it. And you like how it sounds coming from you, you’re beginning to realize. You smile awkwardly at him. “We were just…” You trail off, not really knowing what to say, and not really understanding why you were currently trying to explain to the guy who was, so far, nothing but a coworker of yours.

“Ah, it’s fine,” he excuses himself with a smile an says something about wanting to go out back before they were open because he wanted some fresh air. Hoseok shrugs and pats your shoulder and tells you that he needed to speak with Jin about something that you don’t quite focus on because you’re busy watching Jungkook walking away.

The night goes by rather fast, quick work, all smooth sailing so far.

Until he walks in.

Im Jaebum.

He visited quite frequently, every month or so, he would come either by himself or with a friend of his. He hasn’t done anything particularly bad, usually very tame and relaxed in comparison to other drunkards around here, but you knew from people who knew him that he wasn’t a very decent guy. And if that wasn’t anything to go buy, you didn’t feel very comfortable with the way he looked at you or the way he, at times, would lean slightly over the counter and brush a finger over your hand or wrist while he attempted to flirt you up.

You were usually very professional and ignored his attempts because, sadly, he was loaded (all scumbags are) and you weren’t going to deprive yourself of any tips. When you felt he was going too far, you would send Hoseok over to take over his side of the bar and tell him that he was being extra creepy tonight, and Hoseok would nod without hesitation.

Tonight didn’t seem to be looking too good the second you spotted Im Jaebum and not only one, not two, but three other guys who you only assumed to be his close friends with the way they all were laughing loudly together.

You huff and look to Hoseok with a gaze that said you were already done before they even got here, but quickly replace it with a smile as soon as they stand by your side of the bar and you splay both palms against the counter and direct your attention towards them.

“What can I get you tonight?”

You can’t really see it since you haven’t looked his way much this past night, but Jungkook’s eyes are glued on you. Well, not really just you, more so the group of loud, rambunctious men who just piled in a couple of minutes ago and are centered around you. He watches closely, gaze hardening with every passing second because Jungkook knew, he just knew when something didn’t feel right. It didn’t feel right how, as his eyes laser focused on all four mean, their eyes seemed to be taking in every little move you made. His eyes flicker over to you and, from his past two weeks of working here and watching you (as discreetly as possible), he now knew how it looked like when you were uncomfortable. Eyes not lifting up once from the counter, lips rubbing together tightly and teeth occasionally pulling and gnawing at your bottom lip, smile not as wide as it usually is when you slide the drinks over to them.

Jungkook is a very attentive man, but that trait seems to have doubled when he started working here - started working with you.

He knew it was coming. Any second now. He could hear their loud laughter and the shameless comments he could catch every now and then when the music was low enough and he strained his hearing hard enough to make sense of them. His blood boiled. He just wanted you to look once his way, only once, and tell him to move. Do something. But you don’t. You continue to work and serve them round after round.

And so he takes it upon himself to take action when one of them reaches across the bar and grips your wrist when you place another drink in front of him. You freeze because he’s leaning forward to whisper something to you, something you know is not going to be in the least bit appropriate and is going to make you want to throw up whatever lunch you had this day. However, he doesn’t get close enough because someone is gripping his shoulder and pulling him back, and all the air that had been caught in your throat at his revolting touch is released in a gasp as you watch none other than Jungkook, face as stoic as ever, pull the smaller man up and off his bar stool.

“Excuse me, sir,” he speaks in a stern voice that you’re hearing for the first time since you met him, an incredible contrast to the soft and gentle tone he usually utters his words around you and everyone else around here.

“Please stay seated behind the bar,” he states. “And hands to yourself.”

You look at Jungkook and, despite maintaining a professional act and keeping his face neutral, his jaw is clenched tight and his nostrils are flaring. The men seem entirely too careless to that fact and they only bust out into laughter, seeming to think they own the place and that this mere inconvenience shouldn’t be enough to deter their fun for the night. One of them even pats Jungkook’s shoulder as he laughs and Jungkook’s tongue is pushing against his cheek, an angry tick of his.

“Ah, it’s all good,” Jaebum now replies with a smile that you can only describe as sleazy. “We’re all friends here, __ knows that. Isn’t that right sweetheart?”

“Yeah, buddy. Run along now, kid,” another man adds.

It happens all at once. Jaebum is once again leaning across the counter in an attempt to get close to you, while one of his friends reaches for Jungkook’s back in an attempt to lead him away from their group. That’s when Jungkook feels it serves right to touch at least one of them, and he chooses the closest target - the one with a hand on his back. Within seconds, Jungkook is stood behind the guy and he’s yelping out in pain as Jungkook twists his arm into position between his shoulder blades.

A fuss was starting to happen and you and Hoseok watched, a couple of bystanders watching as well. Jungkook’s stare pointed towards Jaebum.

“I suggest you leave here or I’ll escort you out myself, sir,” he says, and when Jaebum hesitates only for a second, Jungkook tightens his hold on the guy’s arm and twists it further and the guy grunts out a curse.

“Jesus fuck man, let’s just leave,” one of his other friends groans out, seemingly bored with all the action. “’s not like she’s worth it that much anyways.”

You hear that, and you know Jungkook does because the man he holds groans out in pain before he shoves him towards the door before turning to the rest with an expectant look. After all, Jin did give him permission to kick out anyone who he felt was gonna start up any fuss. Jin wasn’t all that about keep the loaded ones happy and keep your mouth shut type of policy; the place was already doing pretty well on its own, Jin would constantly assure as Yoongi would in turn assure him.

The group is kicked out and everything is back to normal. Hoseok is taking orders, crowd dispersing, drinks are being served and no one is so much as looking your way. All except for one person.

“Hey, are you okay?”

He’s leaning over the counter and speaking loudly so that you can hear him clearly. Despite this occurring many times in your line of work, and despite you constantly assuring yourself that you were used to it, you knew that you were lying to yourself and that there was always this small fear inside of you at the fact that it could happen again, and it left you a bit shaken up every time.

“Yeah,” you quickly nod in reply and shoot him a small smile. “Yeah, I’m good.”

“You sure?” He insists. There’s a look in his eyes. This was his job after all, though you didn’t expect him to be this concerned for your safety. You thought it was just about the general atmosphere and keeping assholes under control. But the way he was looking at you right now told you differently, large doe eyes watching you expectantly for any sign that you’re not feeling well.

Your heart stutters and you gulp.

“I’m okay,” you assure him. “Thank you, Jungkook.”

He only nods at you with a smile and slips away, between the crowd and back at his post where he stands against the wall as before. You continue to look, even as he catches you staring and holds your gaze for a second before shooting you a small smile. You barely catch it, dim lighting and all, but it’s the first of many that you receive from him.

That night, Jungkook stalls. He keeps stalling and stalling, waiting until he knows no one is left but you and Hoseok. He knows that the two of you are usually the last to leave for the night and he’s in the locker room getting his bag, waiting for the right moment just to make sure and feel at ease for the night.

You and Hoseok are together, he thinks. With the way he’s so incredibly affectionate with you, constantly touching you and hugging you, so playful and comfortable with you. And then tonight, when he saw you two together in the hallway. Sure, you were just hugging, but it could imply that you two might have something going on.

But what irked Jungkook the most was that Hoseok had made no move to intervene tonight with everything that was happening. Sure, Jungkook had it all under control, and sure it was technically Jungkook’s job to deal with it, but still. He couldn’t imagine himself being on the other side of the bar, standing there with you, and not jumping into action the second you almost dropped one of the drinks because of how uncomfortable you felt with those guys harassing you. You were always so composed, steady hands mixing drinks and handling glasses like they were mere feathers between your fingertips, but it only got slipper and messy when your head wasn’t in the right place. And Jungkook knew that because he watched.

Attentive, he was.

So yes, he waited and waited, and when he walked back out to see you all alone, ready to head back and get your things to call it a night, he’s relieved he stayed back because god - he doesn’t want you going back home alone this late at night. And he knows you don’t go by car because he always sees you walking in, so it’s either the bus or a lonely walk him, and his heart didn’t sit right with either of those.

“Oh, hey,” you greet him when you cross paths. You weren’t expecting him to still be here. Hoseok had long departed and you were behind the bar, cleaning up by yourself for the first time for the rest of the week. “I didn’t know anyone was still here.”

“Yeah, uh,” he stumbles for a moment. “Still here.” He doesn’t bother explaining, his mind can’t seem to conjure up any lies this late at night.

The place is quiet, such a contrast to how it usually is. No music, no drunker chatter, no glasses clinking - the silence was nice and despite the usual party atmosphere this place held, the silence somehow morphed it into a cozy one. Similar to Jungkook now stood in front of you, a complete and polar opposite to the sight you had witnessed merely hours ago. Long gone was the stoic stare and the harsh eyes, replaced with an innocent gaze and the hint of a smile as he stuck his hands in the pocket of his jacket. How he managed to switch and maintain both personas was beyond you.

“Are you going home alone?” He asks after a beat of silence, only realizing that that might have sounded just slightly wrong after he said it. “I mean, it’s really late…” He trails off while explaining, looking at you expectantly.

This is a first for you. It’s the first time that you’re chatting privately with Jungkook, absolutely no one around with nothing to distract you from your usual thoughts.

Tonight really did nothing to help with those thoughts, on the contrary, it only heightened them to the highest of extents. You already knew you were attracted to Jungkook, any person with a pair of eyes could see why that was apparent. But the way he acted tonight, the way he looked into your eyes, as if searching for any sign of discomfort, as if willing to do anything to erase those signs. The way he kept looking over at you, checking, sending smiles your way, somehow reassuring you of his presence - that he was there and that there was nothing to worry about.

And now, standing in front of you with that same look. Concern, worry, he wants your safety. He stayed behind to make sure of that. And that does things to your heart, and to your stomach because in the next second, you feel it flood to the hilt with colorful butterflies. It’s almost nauseating how you feel yourself simultaneously slowly and quickly gravitating towards him, towards the safety and warm that he seems to radiate just by standing there.

You snap out of it.

“Yeah,” you confirm. Your voice is low though, so you clear your throat and look up at him with an assuring smile and try again. “Yeah. I usually leave right on time for the last bus but since I’m closing up tonight, I’m gonna have to walk.”

“I can drive you, if you’d like?” He wastes no time to offer.

“No, really, it’s okay,” you wave it off with a nervous chuckle. “I walk home all the time, it’s no-”

“No, please,” he insists. “I can’t have you walking back home this late at night.”

It didn’t really take much more convincing than that, not like you could’ve argued at all when you could practically feel yourself melting at this short interaction that was taking place, an interaction that you had kinda been hoping for to happen and just now realized how much you wanted it to take place.

So he drives you home and the ride was quiet, not too awkward, but there wasn’t much talking anyways. He resorts to the next best thing and turns on some music to fix it, which you gladly appreciate because you relax into the passenger seat and allow yourself to enjoy the soft tunes after a long night of intense, blaring music that was drilled into your ears.

That was the first night of the week, and you expected it to be the last. However, you are oh so pleasantly surprised when the next day, Jungkook passes by you and Seulgi and greets you with more enthusiasm than usual, as opposed to the small head nod and shy smile he would usually direct towards the both of you.

“Hey, __.”

To which you shyly reply and turn to your friend with a slow puff of air that has her snickering at you.

That night he shows up in front of you the same way he did the night before, not really bothering to try and come up with an excuse as to why he was still here so late for the second time in a row. You’re wiping down the counter when you notice him standing there, bag slung over his shoulder.

“Hey, still here?” You ask once again.

“Yeah,” he shrugs. The thud of his boots is distinct in all the quiet as he steps closer to where you stand. “Are you nearly done?”

The way he asks it sends a shiver down your spine because he spoke it so casually, as if waiting for you to finish up so he can take you home was something he normally did. But you keep your back to him in hopes of him not witnessing your cheeks warming up and bite down a smile.

“Yeah, just a couple of minutes so I can grab my things.”

He waits for you near his car, where he usually parks, leaning against the door with a coy smile on his lips. His heart is racing and he stares at the entrance door excitedly, waiting for your figure to show up. Though something in the back of his mind plagues his thoughts since last night and he really couldn’t wait to figure it out. And when he finally figures out how to ask the question, he blurts it out.

“So, um, do you and Hoseok not usually leave together?”

His question is strange. It’s worded strangely and it’s very much out of nowhere. Your brows furrow in confusion.

“No, not really,” you answer slowly but surely, voice clear over the low hum of the engine. There still wasn’t any music in the car seeing as how you’d just taken off. “I usually leave much earlier than him, but he has this thing this week, so I’m kind of in charge of staying last.”

You glance quickly at him. His brows are furrowed and his lips are slightly pursed. You don’t know what exactly he’s trying to analyze about your answer-

“I just assumed he would wait for you to finish,” he spoke his words slowly. “You know, so you could leave together.”

You turn to him with a baffled expression, still not comprehending why he would come to that analysis in the first place.

“You know,” he pauses to clear his throat. His grip tightens on the steering wheel. The car slows down as he takes a left turn. “Since you two are, um, together and all…”

His voice gets slightly lower towards the end of the sentence and you catch his eyes flicker over to your side of the car for a quick second to check for your reaction before they once again fixate on the road. His words finally register in your head and realization dawns on your and a million thoughts race through your head.

“Oh,” you let out a sound of understanding before your eyes widen and you’re hastily shaking your head. “Oh, no. No no,” you chuckle nervously. You don’t comprehend how many times you repeat the word no before you finally pause. “We’re not together. Hobi and I are just friends. We’re very close and all that, but there’s nothing like that. At all.”

You can’t help yourself from stressing over that fact, wanting to make it very clear that there was nothing between you and Hoseok. When you sneak a peak towards him, you can the see obvious traces of a smile threatening to break out but he’s biting at his inner cheeks and his lips to hide it, tattooed fingers now drumming against the steering wheel in what looks to you as a happy manner.

“Oh, okay,” he confirms with a nod of his head. “Cool. That’s good.”

He doesn’t realize he added that last part, it just slipped out. God, it felt like he could throw himself out of the car at that exact second if it weren’t for the sound of your shy giggle reaching his ears and elating his entire being. That’s when he allows himself to properly smile and chuckle himself before reaching over and turning on some music, the rest of the ride spent in comfortable silence for that night.

The following day Jungkook comes up to you before your shift and leans against the wall as he casually chats you up, something that hadn’t happened since he first started working here about a month ago. But you indulge him and try not to focus too much on how he seems to drift closer, standing closer to you, looming over your space. His eyes twinkle even in the dim lighting around you. You notice all his details. His smile was to die for. Eyes crinkling up, cheeks forming into a round shape that almost completely erased the usual defined shape of his face, always so sharp and clean cut.

Later that night you find out what his laugh sounds like in the warmth of his car on the ride home, right after you tell him about that one time Hoseok had been teasing you all night about some old guy that never once parted from the bar, Hoseok designating him by the name of your ‘sugar daddy’. Until it was revealed later that night through a white napkin that was left behind by the man himself, a series of numbers scribbled on it, for the ‘cute boy who serves the best drinks in town ;)’.

He laughed loudly and you immediately took the chance to look, his nose scrunching up and his head thrown back, thankfully at a stop sign. It sounds to boisterous, like music to your ears, making you feel at complete ease as your lips curl up into a smile as well.

You once again mentally compare the image of him in the dim lighting of the bar; chest puffed out, arms crossed, scowl plastered on his face. Tattoos inked into his knuckles and forearms. Long earrings dangling from his ears. Everything suited him so well, with the way his long hair cascaded down his eyes and completed that strong and mysterious vibe he carried with him when he was so focused on doing his job right, not letting his guard down unless your eyes met his. That’s when he would falter for a mere second and he would send a tiny smile your way that had you blushing and turning the other way in a haste.

But the guy sat next to you in his car right now, laughing childishly and humming along to a song he had picked out, was so different. But you liked both sides.

You liked both sides a lot.

You call Jin one morning with a sore throat, coughing and sneezing, unable to speak a few proper words without feeling like the scratch in your throat would bring you to your death. You inform him that you won’t be able to come in and he assures you that it’s fine and tells you to rest well, drink lots of water and lots of warm tea.

That night, up in your bed, unable to sleep because you can never usually sleep when you get sick, your phone vibrates and the sound of a text arriving brings you to tear your eyes away from your laptop. You’d decided you might as well re-watch the first season of Supernatural.

From: Unknown hey, it’s jungkook :) hope you don’t mind me getting your number from hoseok [2:13 am]

You spring up from your lying position, and despite the pain and body ache that takes over, a familiar feeling of butterflies once again swarms your tummy and it’s the first nice feeling that you’ve experiences all day/

From: Jungkook ik it’s late and you’re probably asleep but i hope you’re taking care of yourself [2:13 am]

You nibble on your bottom lip before deciding: to hell with dignity. You open the message only a few seconds later. He was typing, but the three bubbles disappear and you assume it’s because he saw that you had just opened his text when he wasn’t expecting for you to do that so late.

To: Jungkook hi jungkook, thanks for checking up on me :) just a bit tired is all [2:15 am]

From: Jungkook you’re still up ?? are you not feeling well?? [2:15 am]

The text comes nearly seconds after you send yours and you can’t help the smile the takes over your face. You feel stupid smiling at your phone like this but god he’s so sweet it’s killing you.

To: Jungkook a bit restless yeah..it’s okay. couldn’t buy medicine today so i’ll get some tomorrow and that’ll help me sleep a bit [2:!5 am]

This time he reads your message and waits. You stare at your phone, confused as you watch bubbles disappear and reappear on your phone screen. It’s exactly two minutes before you finally receive one.

From: Jungkook i can drop some off tomorrow at your place [2:17 am]

From: Jungkook if you’re comfortable with that [2:17 am]

From: Jungkook i can leave it at your door and you can just take it when you want [2:17 am]

You’re staring at your phone, shell-shocked, unable to fathom the words that you were reading. They came one after the other, and you could almost imagine him stuttering and spitting out phrases to make you more comfortable with the idea, like he did that first night when he offered to drive you home.

You take a deep breath and type out your response.

To: Jungkook you’d do that? [2:18 am]

His reply is immediate.

From: Jungkook of course [2:18 am]

The following morning, there’s a bag at your doorstep. Medicine, and several tupperwares filled with food. Your heart is melting, your head feels light with all the emotions you’re experiencing as you bring the bag inside, taking notice of a note that’s placed inside the bag.

these are jin-hyung’s recipe so i think they should be good if i followed all the steps right. enjoy and feel better :)

His handwriting suits him, you think. It’s cute.

The next time you see Jungkook, you surprise him, yourself, and Hoseok who happens to be a witness of the hug you envelope him in. It took a lot of pep-talk on your way here, but you managed to psyche yourself up just enough for you to actually go through with it. And, even more surprisingly, he’s only shocked for a moment before he willingly accepts your hug.

“Thanks for the medicine, Jungkook,” you pull away. You’re aware your face is extremely pink and that your voice is slightly shaky and you’re almost one hundred percent sure he could see your heart pumping through your chest, but you don’t really care because his cheeks are pink as well. “And for the food.”

“It was nothing,” he brushes it off with a timid chuckle as you step back and glance at Hoseok who’s trying very hard not to leave his jaw hanging on the floor. “You feel better now though, right?” He makes sure, in the same tone that now sounds familiar to you, laced with slight worry.

“Much,” you nod your head with a smile and his grin is back, bright as ever, full teeth on show.

“That’s all that matters then.”

You’re not responsible for closing up anymore and Hoseok shared his mixtape with you the day that it was finished.

Though you were free to leave earlier once again and could easily catch the bus back home, supposedly going back to your old routine, you step out and are caught by surprise when Jungkook is stood there, leaning on the wall adjacent to the entrance.

He practically beams at you the moment he sees you and pushes himself off the wall as he shuffles over to you, boots scuffing over the pavement. He practically struts over and he looks like a god damn model with the way the wind ruffles his hair back, tight black turtleneck hugging his figure cozily but hidden due to the large jacket he had thrown on.

“You know I can just take the bus home again, right?” You tease with a smile but you begin to walk beside him nonetheless, making your way to his car. He nudges you with his elbow as you walk and look ahead.

“Just appreciate what I do for you,” he retorts.

The level of comfort and ease in which you both now chat and joke together has magnified over these past weeks, and you find yourself giggling shyly as he opens the passenger door for you to climb in.

The ride is spent chatting as usual, you and Jungkook exchanging stories about drunkards and incidents occurring throughout the night. He wins tonight’s round with his story about the couple who kept trying to hit on this one guy, assuming they were trying to convince him to go home with them, until the guy’s girlfriend showed up and cursed the two out. You can’t imagine how he could’ve managed to keep a straight face with all of that unfolding in front of him.

You thank him for the ride, bid him farewell and he watches as you make your way up your apartment building, both of you smiling like idiots. Jungkook takes a second to collect himself, leaning his forehead against the steering wheel with a slow exhale of his breath before restarting the engine and driving away.

A week later. A full week of late nights driving you home, texting almost everyday, exchanging brief yet playful conversations at work, you practically feel like a schoolgirl. A schoolgirl who gets to see her cute crush almost everyday. You feel giddy and happy. You’re more active at work and you serve with a smile because you somehow always seem to eventually direct it towards the tall security guard who’s standing relatively near, eyes flickering towards you to throw you a quick wink that has Hoseok wiggling his eyebrows at you without Jungkook noticing.

One late night he parks his car by your apartment building and shuts off the engine, leaning back in his seat and looking at you. You unbuckle your seat belt but remain seated, not making any move to step out of the car just yet.

His fingers, as they usually do, are drumming against the steering wheel, and for a few seconds, that’s the only sound that resonates within the silence.

“So,” he begins. He starts a lot of sentences like that, you notice, but keep that to yourself and just stare at him expectantly. “Tomorrow’s off for you, right?”

“Yes,” you sigh in relief at the thought of not having to deal with people yelling different names of drinks your way. “Thank god for that.”

“Yeah,” he chuckles in agreement. He looks at you for a second and when he sees you looking he looks to the front once again, pursing his lips. “Anything planned?”

“Not really,” you answer with a shrug and continue to look at because you can sense where he was trying to go with this.

“Great, that’s…” He trails off. He huffs, annoyed with himself before he turns to you with pretty, charming eyes and a look that had you shifting in your seat with its intensity. “I can take the day off, too.”

It’s a statement but it sounded like a question all at the same time.

“And-” One hand leaves the steering wheel to ruffle his hair, pushing some strands back and behind his ear. “We can do something. Together.”

“Like-”

“Like a date,” he continues before you could say it, smiling hopefully at you, hoping that he never read any signs wrong. But he didn’t. He couldn’t have because you beam at him in the next second and he grins back, nose scrunch and all.

“I’d love that, Guk.”

Wow, that was the first time you called him anything but his full name and the shorter term never sounded better to his ears. You look so pretty to him. All cooped up in his car, smiling at him so sweetly and fingers twiddling shyly on your lap, eyes awaiting for his next words. You just look so sweet, so innocent in that moment, so captivating that he can’t help but just lean forward across the console and-

“Shit-” Just as he witnesses your eyes beginning to flutter shut once you realize what his intentions were, almost there, so close he was beginning to taste it, he felt himself being tugged back.

Of course he didn’t take his fucking seat-belt off.

A moment of silence is heard before you both start laughing hysterically at the ridiculous situation.

After you two are done, you maneuver freely and lean over to his side since you had bothered to take your seat-belt off and place a kiss right on the corner of his mouth, just shy from it being an actual kiss. Your allow your lips to linger for a second before pulling away, and you could swear he leaned forward just a bit as you did.

“Text me and we’ll pick a time for tomorrow, yeah?” You suggest as you open the passenger seat door. He licks his lips, having been so willing to kiss you at this moment, but he smiles and nods.

“Goodnight, __.”

He looks breathtaking to say the least and you more than appreciate the idea of witnessing him under the sunlight for the first time in months. He’s wearing an over-sized grey sweater, loose black jeans and the signature boots. He looks like a god, leaning back on his hands on the plaid blanket he’d packed with him.

He nearly loses his breath when he first sees you. God, he knew you were gorgeous but the way you walked over to his car with an almost angelic smile gracing your features - how was he supposed to just not kiss you the second you were in his care? You usually wore jeans to work, but this. Where you trying to torture him? A skirt?

He takes you on a picnic because, as he claims, I don’t think we’ve ever seen each other in proper sunlight before and I’ve been here for what - two or three months?

He and Jin go way back, he tells you after you find out that the meals and sandwiches he’d prepared had also been advised by Jin. He tells you that he was a family friend and that their parents knew each other very well. Jungkook’s parents didn’t live here, they lived abroad, and Jin’s parents were always after Jin to keep an eye on Jungkook and look after him.

And look after him he did. He introduced him to most his friends; Taehyung, Jimin and even Yoongi. He recommended him for a job at Taehyung’s tattoo shop since Jungkook was such a talented artist and he was responsible for the many designs displayed in Taehyung’s shop. He helped him find a place cheap and comfortable enough to live in. He’s encouraging him to let Taehyung teach him how to tattoo so he can make more money and maybe open up a place on his own. And he recommended him to Yoongi when they were talking about needing someone new around, highly praising him in front of his friend even though Yoongi already knew Jungkook personally.

He told you about it all and you listened carefully, taking it all in, watching the way he fiddled with the dangly piece of jewelry hanging from his ear as he spoke about all his friends, all of them older than him and how they shaped him into the man he is today. His experiences with them. Everything.

“Sorry,” he chuckles bashfully as he picks up a cherry and pops it into his mouth. He looks at you. “I was talking too much.”

“What? No,” you insist. You unconsciously shift closer to him on the blanket and your hand lands on the blanket right next to his as you lean on your side slightly. “I like listening.”

“I’m not much of a talker with new people,” he explains while looking at you. “I haven’t talked to anyone like this in a long time, actually,” he continues. He says that as soon as you feel a hand covering your own, fingers fiddling with yours.

You both look down at your hands and you feel your heart do flips when you flip your palm up beneath his and he intertwines your fingers with his.

“That was really cute,” you blurt out for some reason. Your cheeks are incredibly warm and pink, and so are the tips of your ears, but you can at least blame it on the sun this time, though you doubt that’s how he would analyze it.

You giggle, he chuckles. You both shift closer and closer until his nose is grazing yours. He tilts his head forward just a little and you can feel his lips graze yours. Your thoughts are clouded as you feel his warm breath hitting your face. His eyes are still open, albeit half-lidded, and he holds eye contact so intense it’s almost too much for you to handle. You gulp heavily.

“Guk.”

It’s the way you whisper his name that finally brings him to cover your lips with his, mouth gently coaxing yours to move along with his. He kisses you sensually, something you don’t expect from your first kiss, you expect him to be more careful and reserved, but you’re not complaining as he tilts his head slightly to deepen the kiss and lifts a hand to your hair.

He kisses your breath away, mouth moving in a perfect pace, lips pecking yours gently several times before diving in for a deep kiss once again. His nose nudges yours, warmth washing over you as his fingers grip your hair very gently to bring you closer.

You hum in between kisses and he can’t help it. He can’t help but push closer. Your lips tasted heavenly, so sweet, so delicious, so addicting. He wanted more. He licks your lips and you willingly let him in. Tongue licking into your mouth, he increases pressure until you begin to lean back further and further until you’re lying flat against the blanket. Your lips part for a few seconds and Jungkook looks down at you, watches you breathe slightly heavily, hair splayed out beneath you, lips swollen with his kiss. He has half a mind to quickly check your surroundings, thankful that he’d picked a secluded spot behind a large tree, before he plants his mouth on yours once again.

He doesn’t put his weight on top of you and instead leans on one elbow placed strategically near your head, caging you in, leaning over you as he steals endless kisses from your already breathless mouth. His hand, inked with black tattoos, trails down your arm, fingertips subtly brushing over your skin and bringing goosebumps to its surface. It travels down until he reaches your hand that he takes in his larger one, bringing it up to pin it down next to your head, fingers intertwining with yours once again.

You hum into the kiss once again, basking in the way he feels around you. Almost completely covering you with his body, presence looming over yours and hiding you from the world. It feels nice and comforting and hot and sexy all at once. Your other hand itches to move, free from confinement, and you bring it up to his chest, solid yet pliant. Your fingers curl into a grip and you pull him closer to kiss you harder. God, you’ve never felt so much from just a single kiss.

“Mmm-__-” he mumbles in between heavy kisses. His usually mellow voice is deeper now, laced with desire that you’re just now witnessing for the first time. “Mhmph-baby…” He mutters for the second time, unable to hold himself back from biting into your pouty bottom lip when he felt your hand grip his hair for the first time.

The sound of kids, not too close yet not too far away suddenly brings you to your senses as your lips begin to slow down their pace, little by little until his mouth is barely just resting over yours, warm breaths continuing to mix together.

Your eyes peel open to find his already staring at you, studying your face up close for a couple of seconds. Your fingers absentmindedly twirl strands of hair around and around, his thumb strokes your hand that he still grips firmly before you both break out into smiles at how this had transpired. He tenderly pecks your lips twice before sitting up slightly, and you follow along, looking around to see if there was anyone too close nearby, relieved to see only three kids significantly far away from your spot.

You talk more. This time he listens while you speak. You spill all your details from dropping out of college because of too much pressure, too many past-due tuition fees, and not enough control over your life. He listens carefully all the while he appreciates your presence near him for the first time. He scoots closer as you talk about how hard that last year was for you, scoops your hand into his larger one as you rant about how Hoseok had been incredibly supportive in all the time you’ve known him. He plays with your hair and gently leans forward to kiss the top of your head when you tell him about not having a place to stay for a while, and Hoseok had so kindly offered his place for you. You talk and talk and he listens just as you did for him, getting gradually closer to you until he had you wrapped up in his arms once again, lying on the blanket and chatting quietly amongst yourselves, in your own little world.

Hoseok immediately takes notice because you just happen to be stepping out of Jungkook’s car for work after he had offered that he would drive you. As soon as he sees the two of you, his eyes light up as he saunters over with a bright smile.

“Ah, Jungkookie,” he nudges you and you only blush and roll your eyes at him, looking to Jungkook who chuckles but you can see the pink tint to his cheeks.

“Taking care of our princess is something you take very seriously, huh? I can see that,” Hoseok teases and you push him away with a groan as you practically stomp your way inside, only hearing Hoseok’s loud laugh echoing behind you.

The next date he takes you on is a week later and he simply takes you to dinner. You’re happy because after last time, sitting together and just talking, you were looking forward to be with him more. Alone.

He shocks you that night when he actually wears a black button up instead of his usual casual attire. He looked fucking hot. Sleeves rolled up, tattoos on show, hair actually combed back; your knees nearly buckled beneath you when you saw him leaning against his car as he waited for you to come down. He looked like the man of your dreams as he flashed you the biggest grin and opened the passenger door for you, but not before leaning down and planting a kiss on your cheek.

He looked tall and big, bigger than usual for some reason, or maybe that was just because of the way he had you pressed up against the side of his car after parking by your apartment building after your date. Dinner went smoothly, as you expected. And you knew it would end with a goodnight kiss with the way he kept looking at your lips, stained pink with your favorite lipstick that had now made its way over to his lips that were just as pink and shiny as yours now.

“I really like kissing you,” he murmurs against your lips, repeatedly placing kiss after kiss to your breathless lips. You grab onto his broad shoulders, so large and wide they shielded you from the world behind him, from everything around you.

“You’re so pretty,” he whispers before licking into your mouth and you hum, pleased with his deep, addictive kisses.

You part ways with flushed faces and dumb smiles, hair just slightly ruffled and messy from your embrace.

The next few dates feel like heaven. Being with him, near him, talking to him, it all added something to your life that you never aware you wanted. You never had a constant in your life, someone like this. Someone who would sigh over the phone and ask you why you’re still up so late but continue to entertain you nonetheless despite the scolding. Someone who reaches in the backseat and places a bag in your lap and tells you with a bashful tone that he had gotten you something, and that something turns out to pretty blue key chain in the shape of a cat because you had mentioned one time over the phone how you kept losing your keys and that having one would make them more noticeable. Someone who begins keeping an extra jacket or sweater in his car for you because the weather was getting colder and you haven’t begun wearing jackets yet so he had to do it himself. Someone who brought his charger with him to work because you always forgot to charge your phone and would complain about it on the way home. Someone who took care of you and tended to your needs so carefully.

It’s about a month later and everything was going perfect. He was perfect. You’ve never felt so comfortable, in sync, or safe with anyone before. Countless days and nights of talking on the phone, texting, drives home that some nights turned into later dinners at a nearby 24 hour diner, cute dates that your highschool self would gush and blush about.

It’s a slow night, not much going on. Hoseok was handling most of the drinks tonight though since you could feel a light headache forming and it was beginning to annoy you.

In walked Im Jaebum after months of not stepping foot in here back when Jungkook kicked him and his friends out. Your eyes immediately snap to Jungkook because you know he’s got his eyes on him already, and you’re right when you see his eyes follow Jaebum’s every move and step as he gets closer to the bar. He’s alone tonight, walking slowly but surely towards the bar stool at your end of the bar and plopping down without a word. His usual greasy smile isn’t there, his face is grim and quiet, but you figure that that’s a good thing and you walk over to get his order, and that’s all you get. No wink, no trashy compliment, and you feel slightly relieved at that.

Unfortunately, a small fight between two drunk guys broke out because - yes, you guessed it - one guy was flirting with the other’s girlfriend. Your headache got worse with all the loud music and the shouting and you walked over to Hoseok.

“Do you have some painkillers with you in the back?” You ask in his ear, and he’s quick to nod, looking at you with a worried expression, and you gesture to your head with a wince.

“They’re in the front pocket of my bag. Take some and get some air, I can handle it for a bit,” he ushers you away after you give him a grateful smile.

Jungkook enters once again after taking care of the two guys’ problem, eyes unconsciously seeking yours just because it was practically second nature for him by now. He’s staring at the bar, confused because for the first time, you’re not there, serving drinks with a smile. It’s only Hoseok up there and he scratches his head, pondering on where you would be right now.

Well, you had gone out back for a quick breather after taking some painkillers from where Hoseok had them stashed, enjoying the chilly night air in the ally that one of the backdoors led to. Just as you were about to push off the wall and make your way back inside because it didn’t sit right with you to sit out here while Hoseok did all the work, even though you knew he wouldn’t even mind you heading home right now, the door swings open and out he walks, eyes landing on your figure as if he knew you would be here.

“__,” he says, and the greasy smirk that you had been previously been so glad was nowhere to be seen on his face tonight, had once again made its presence known and you couldn’t be less pleased with that fact.

“What are you doing here?” You immediately question. “This door is for employees only-”

“Why do you think I’m here, __?” He asks as he steps closer and you immediately take a larger step back. This isn’t right. This is making your stomach feel queasy and you really want to leave right this second.

“I don’t know and I don’t wanna know,” you deadpan with a stern tone. “Now, excuse me, I have to go back to work-”

“Wait,” he stretches an arm out and steps sideways before you could reach the door and you immediately back away from him. “You know why I’m here, __. Come on, can we stop playing games?”

“Excuse me?” You ask in a genuinely confused tone. Games? What games? This man doesn’t even know you. Does he really think you’re playing games with him?

“You think I come to this shit place because I just like it here?” He steps closer and you once again step back, looking at the door behind him, mentally planning how you’re about to push him out of the way and make your way back inside. “You I would come here if it weren’t for the hot bartender who’s trying to play hard to get with me?”

“God, you’re such a piece of shit-”

You’re just about to push him and maybe knee him in the dick before the door behind the two of you to reveal a - a seething Jungkook.

If it weren’t for the fight that had broken out just prior to you leaving, Jungkook would’ve seen Jaebum watch you walk away and get up a couple of minutes later and you wouldn’t have had to exchange a single word with him, but it just so happened that he had been distracted. However, it only took him a couple of minutes to finally notice that the man he’d previously been watching the most the entire night wasn’t in the place he was seated at, and he couldn’t have moved faster as he began his search for you. With each passing second, his breath got heavier, his hands clenched into rock hard fists as if ready to punch the man any second now. He was practically seeing red by the time he reached the back door, his last resort.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

Jaebum is practically lifted off the ground when Jungkook grabs him by his clothes and pushes him back. You watch, eyes wide, as the usually shy and relaxed guy who blushed everytime Hoseok teased him about him just getting this job to stare at you all night, who was mentally psyching himself up before asking you out for the first time that one night, who twirled strands of your hair around his finger oh so delicately when you would at times stay a couple of minutes in his car to chat, that same guy was growling at the man who appeared to be smaller than him with the way Jungkook was crowding into his space.

For some odd reason, any previous thoughts of Jaebum were completely erased from your mind, wiped out. And all you could think about was your boyfriend. Your boyfriend who you absolutely adored, who was now on the verge of beating up this prick for you, and who looked fucking hot while doing it.

“Do you just go around harassing women? Is that how you waste your worthless time?” Jungkook shakes him as he practically yells those words at him before pushing him aggressively into the cold wall behind him. He stumbles and catches himself before falling.

You’re silent before you look at Jungkook and he looks back at you, fire inside his eyes more tame now as he tries to detect any damage that was done even though he got here before Jaebum could even consider getting close to you. He steps towards you and cups your face, about to say something before he gets interrupted.

“Fuck you, man. And fuck her. I don’t want a stuck up bitch like that anyways-”

Jungkook’s eyes flash at the first word that meets his ears, jaw ticking, brows furrowed in annoyance because clearly just shaking him up a little bit wasn’t enough, and before he could utter another word, Jungkook lands a solid punch to his cheeks that shuts him right up. You gasp in surprise.

“Get the fuck out of here,” Jungkook spits at him. “If I ever see you around here, or around her ever again, I’ll knock your teeth out.”

You reach for his hand and pull him towards the door, and he keeps looking at the guy who’s stumbling away into the alley until the door is finally closed and his eyes travel to you.

“He didn’t touch you, did he? You’re okay? If he did I swear I’ll go back out there and-”

“I’m fine,” you assure and cup his faced between your palms to calm him down. You bring his face close to yours and lock eyes with him. His breathing is a bit heavy and his fists are still clenched, so you release his face in favor of holding them in your smaller ones, unfurling the tight grip and intertwining your fingers with his. Visibly relaxing at being so close to you, he sighs heavily and leans forward a bit more to nudge your nose with his.

“I’m fine,” you repeat once again, voice lower. “And I’m glad you’re here.”

The way you say it, it could be perceived in referring both to the current situation, and just having him here in general. And he knows that.

“I’ll always be here,” he murmurs and can’t help but press a kiss to your lips, one that, for some reason tonight, immediately ignites a fiery fire of need inside you. You don’t know why, it could be because you’ve been wanting this since the first time you tasted his lips, it could be the fact that he was the most attractive man you’d ever laid your eyes one, or it could be because your boyfriend was the sweetest man and he treated you with so much care that your body ached for more of his attention; a different kind of care and attention.

It was almost closing time anyway, you think to yourself as you climbed across the console and situated yourself to straddle him the second he shut off the engine, a position you’d been in before.

You’ll explain to Hoseok later, you think to yourself, fingers digging into his hair as he kissed down your neck and collarbones, large palms running up and down your back.

Hoseok will definitely understand the situation, you think to yourself as your head falls back and your eyes flutter shut when he begins to suck and nibble on the column of your neck, mouthing at your throat and covering your skin in heated kisses as his strong arms wrapped around your torso and pressed your smaller frame up against his large one.

“Guk,” you whisper, dazed and breathy. He hums against your skin. Your hips push down, something you very rarely go as far as to do, but you can’t stop yourself. You want this. You want him so bad. He groans into your neck.

“Stop, stop,” you mumble, pushing weakly at his chest, to which he immediately complies. Lips parted, hair ruffled and falling over his eyes in the sexiest way, he looks up at you.

“Do you wanna come upstairs?”

Your apartment is dark but you don’t care enough to turn on any lights as you stumble in, lips locked and bodies intertwined. He pushes you up against the nearest wall, pressing his body up against yours, trapping you against him as he pulls away for a second.

“Where’s your bedroom, baby?” He asks but he’s already once again distracted with planting hot kisses down your neck, hands moving down your body, rough hands gaining confidence as you push closer to him and respond to his subtle touches.

“Down the hall,” you gasp when he bites into your skin. “Door on the left.”

You reach there in record time before he finally loses patience and grips your thighs at the door, signaling you to hold onto him. Muscles tensing, he lifts you up and carries you the rest of the way all the while you feel yourself getting warm at his show of strength.

He places you down on the mattress gently before he slips of his jacket and throws it away somewhere, not bothering to aim where it lands because his eyes are fixated on the way you scoot back on the bed and await for him to join you. And join you, he does, climbing up the bed and over your body, eyes dark and strands of hair cascading down his face, a hungry expression written all over his face.

He doesn’t kiss you. His arms, you can see them bulging through your peripheral vision, hold him up above you as he stares down at the way you’re sprawled out beneath him. Your shirt is riding up slightly, some bare skin revealed to his dark eyes. Your chest moves up and down with each deep breath you take in.Your dainty hands are fiddling with the hem of his shirt, eyes blinking up at him as you anxiously await his next move.

“Pretty,” he comments and brings one hand to brush back some hair before burying his hand in your hair and gripping firmly to expose your neck to him. You gasp out, enjoying the pressure you feel in your skull and he takes notice, chuckling lowly before kissing down your neck and collarbones.

“I wanna make you feel good, baby,” he groans into your skin. One of his hands goes down to your hip and bunches the shirt up in his palm, and the skin burns in the best way where he brushes against you. His knees gently nudge your legs apart to settle further between your thighs and you willingly allow him more room, hands reaching for his back and scrunching up the material between your fingers.

“Wanna make you moan,” he whispers. Your eyes flutter shut as his fingers gingerly push your shirt further and further up until it reached just below your breasts. The tips of his fingers brush against the bottom of your bra and your arch your back, craving more than the gentle touches he’s currently giving you. He gets the hint and lifts the shirt up until your bra clad breasts are exposed to him and he continues kissing down your collarbone to litter your kisses to the newly exposed skin.

“Yes,” you gasp, giving him the okay.

“Make you scream,” he continues. With a slip of his finger, he brings one of the cups down and takes your nipple into his mouth, lavishing it with attention and running his tongue over it until it hardened completely.

“Yes, Guk,” you whimper. The hand still placed in your hair seems to tighten at the sound of his name.

“Even the sounds you make are pretty,” he chuckles against your breast, hot breath hitting your skin with every word. You flush at his compliments, but you don’t have much time to be shy about it before he pulls away from you to sit up on his knees between your legs. Large palms stroke your thighs, warming them up with his touch. He looks into your eyes as he does this, mouth curled up at one side, the most devilish smile as he reaches for the hem of your pants and fiddles with the button there.

“You sure about this, baby?” He asks, eyes trailing up and down your body hungrily, biting his lip. The sight has you even more excited. “I can be a bit…intense.”

Your core heats at the implications of what that could mean and god you wanna find out. You find yourself nodding eagerly, hips lifting a bit to show your approval.

“I am,” you assure.

Before you knew it, your pants were being tugged off your legs as you sat back against the pillows, legs spread for him. Panties still on, you placed a hand on his when he made a move to remove them as well causing him to look up at you.

“Can you take your shirt off?” You ask a bit shyly, to which he chuckles and shakes his head at you.

You never thought someone could look so sexy taking their shirt off, but the second he reached for his back to tug it off, you knew you were done for. The material slid off so smoothly and effortlessly, caressing the golden skin that was being exposed inch by inch, looking so soft and warm to the touch. It ruffled his hair and got it all messy when it reached his head, before it was completely off and he threw it away. The muscles in his torso rippled with every move he made, sculpted so beautifully you were mesmerized with every little dip and bump his torso had. What caught your eye the most were the several tattoos inked across his right arm and shoulder.

He was absolutely gorgeous.

You took him all in and couldn’t help but reach to touch him, and he leans forward to allow your fingertips to glide across his chest and up his shoulders, while his hands get busy lifting up your own shirt that was still half way up.

You let him take your shirt off in a daze, still entranced with his body because he just seemed so…large. He was pretty buff, you already knew that, but now with the way he was leaning over you and trailing one hand down your abdomen to your panties, staring you down with almost black with lust eyes, he seemed fucking huge.

Arousal gathered in your panties at the thought.

You didn’t really know why. This didn’t usually get you this worked up. Maybe it was the events of tonight, or the events of the past couple of months, of Jeon Jungkook being the most gentlemanly any man could ever be while still having the ability to flip the switch and snap someone in two if he wanted to.

Or maybe it simply was the fact that you were attracted to him on so many different levels. Aside from the fact that Jungkook appeared to be a man sculpted like gods, from the top of his head all the way down to his toes, the past few months with him had been nothing short of surreal. From the little things that showed how much he looked after you, down to the way he kissed you so lovingly every single time, as if pouring out his emotions to you with the way he did it.

“Fuck,” you pant out when he slips his hand beneath your panties and gathers your wetness on his fingers. You press your lips together as his fingers begin exploring.

“So wet already,” he hums, placing a kiss to your cleavage before hastily making his way down your body. He looks up at you for a beat, removing his hand from your panties before gripping both sides and slowly sliding the material down until they reached your ankles, where you kick them away at once.

Shuffling can be heard as he situates himself between your legs and you spread them open for him. You don’t dare look down as you expose yourself to him, opting to stare up at the white ceiling, but you hear a pleased sound coming from down there before short kisses are being littered all across your inner thighs. You continue to stare up, breathing pace increasing, faster with each second as he kisses and nips at the sensitive skin, getting closer to your growing wetness with each peck.

“How do you like it?” The question is muffled into your skin. He kisses your lips once, gently, as if he was kissing any other more innocent part of you.

“Hmm?” You hum distractedly, looking down questioningly.

“How do you like it, baby?” He repeats the question and kisses your pussy once more, and your breath hitches as he makes eye contact. His tongue slithers out for a swift lick. “Fast? Slow?” He licks a long stripe up your lips and you shutter, fingers already gripping the sheets to ready yourself. “Messy?”

“Jungkook,” you gasp because he’s already licking into you and humming in satisfaction.

“You better tell me before I just go with whatever I want,” he warns jokingly. He shifts slightly and situates himself better, elbows digging into the the mattress.

“I-I like it fast,” you breathe out because he’s already mouthing at your center. “And m-messy-shit-”

He delivers what you request without hesitation, tongue beginning to lave at your wet hole, creating a kind of friction that you immediately begin to tense up at. You gasp at the ceiling. Tongue wiggling and lapping at every drop of your essence, you think you can hear him breathe you in deeply and it causes more of your wetness to gush out. It’s incredible, you didn’t expect the onslaught of sensations you were currently experiencing to come so fast, but he already has you building up a sweat with the way he stiffens his tongue and pokes at your hole.

“Shit-J-Jungkook I-” you whimper. He hums right into your pussy. Sloppy noises of sucking and licking travel through the air and if anyone were to hear, they would probably be turned off but you feel anything but. The way he opens his mouth and spreads your lips with two sets of fingers either side to open you up for him. The heat of his mouth fully encasing you, sucking and flicking his tongue at your clit. It breaks your voice and your eyes roll back as your back arches.

“Oh god fuck! Jungkook! Jungkook!” His name is repeated several times, broken little cries and small whimpers reaching his ears. His palms are stroking your thighs, moving higher and higher up and past your tummy. “Oh-oh god!”

His palms reach your breasts and he takes them in his hands, kneading and squeezing. Your head digs into the mattress and your back arches into his touch. Sweat beads build at your temples and you feel so hot all over, like you’re going to explode, most of the heat centered at your core where Jungkook is suddenly moving his head side to side, tongue movement switching up. “F-fuck. Fuckfuckfuck-”

Fingers squeeze at your breasts harder. “Take it-hmph-off.” He’s spewing the words into your cunt and you almost don’t hear them but he pats your chest twice, too busy eating you up to focus on taking it off himself. Hastily, with shaky hands. your lift your back and yank the restraining material, sensitive nipples now exposed to his deft fingers.

You look down and whimper weakly at the sight. Hair falling over his face, tongue pressed into your wetness and full lips sucking your clit into his mouth. “Oh god! Like that-”

“Like that?” He repeats and sucks again.

“Yes! Yes yes yes-” You cry out repeatedly.

His tongue stiffens again and he wiggles it inside your pussy. You gasp, choked moan escaping your lips. Shocks of pleasure shoot through you. Your fingers scramble to grip at the messy sheets.

“Ngh-I’m-I’m gonna-”

“Cum.” He says one word. Both hands leave your breasts and shoot down to your ass, gripping the flesh tightly and bring you closer to his mouth, widening it until he covers your entire pussy and sucks noisily, slurping up your wetness.

“Fuck! Fuck Jung-Jungkook I-oh god I’m gonna-oh! Oh don’t stop!” You’re spewing out so many random words, high pitched and sounding the filthiest you’ve ever felt, body buzzing with so much pleasure and ecstasy as you feel your orgasm overtake you. “Don’tstop-please please please Jungkook-” His name is whined out and he enjoys your sounds more than anything, licking you through your orgasm until your body twitches and you weak fingers push at him weakly.

“Guk,” you whimper.

He doesn’t stop.

“Shit Guk,” you whine again and he pulls away. His mouth and chin are soaked, cheeks flushed, hair slightly damp with sweat and strands falling across his face.

“Fuck,” he whispers, staring at you for a second, looking completely fucked out and he hasn’t even pulled his cock out yet. Your chest is heaving and your eyes are droopy and - you look absolutely fuckable.

His movements are a blue in front of your eyes, but you watch hazily as he leans back and slips off his boxers, his eyes never once leaving you. They travel up and down your body, sweaty and flushed, legs spread and exposed for him, and he’s already planning in his head all the different ways he wants to have his ways with you if you let him.

Your gasp can be heard clearly in the quiet of the room, and his eyes shoot up to catch what you’re so surprised about, and true to his assumption, your eyes are glued to his cock that’s now wrapped in his slender fingers. He feels something swell in his core, and he doesn’t know if it’s pride at the way you’re taking him in with a mouth agape and flushed cheeks.

A trickle of wetness, you feel it building up and slipping out as you stare unabashedly.

It’s pretty. You’ve never described a dick as pretty, but it really was. Oh, and it was big. Big would be an understatement, it was huge. It made even his enormous hands look normal sized, even smaller maybe. Long, thick and curved at the tip. That little curve had your pussy clenching, and you’re gulping down a whimper harshly. The sight of him kneeling there is so erotic, and to make things worse, as if he knows your body was a bit too much for you to handle or comprehend, he raises a muscly arm and pushes his hair back from his face and looks at you with the most seductive look you’ve ever been subjected to, cock still in hand as he utters his next words.

“You gonna let me fuck you now, baby?” His voice is a bit hoarse, deeper than before, tone laced with pure desire.

You nod, legs spreading even wider than they already were, bottom lip pulled back beneath your teeth. He chuckles and leans forward, hand abandoning his cock and coming to rest beside your head as he leans over top of your body, face now right above yours.

“Words, baby,” he tells you. The other hand trails up your body, from your thigh, to your abdomen, to your breasts where he grazes his nail against your nipple, and the skin immediately pebbles up at the sultry touch. “You need to tell me what you want,” he squeezes your nipple ever so slightly before he releases it, continuing his path up and resting an open palm over your chest, across your collarbones, fingers laying right at the base of your neck. “What you like.” It’s not really a squeeze, but you feel the smallest bit of pressure there and you immediately gasp, thighs clenching but being blocked by his large build, and he notices your reaction. His hand slithers further up until his fingertips tap at your mouth, eyes locked with yours, eyebrows twitching up and lips curling into a sinister smile. “Just need you to tell me, baby.”

He watches, satisfied as you part your lips for his fingers to enter, and he slithers in two. Knuckle deep, your flick your tongue over the digits and coat them with your spit as you would his pretty cock, and his cock twitches at the filthy act. You suck and wrap your lips around them, doing the most, and he slides them further inside your mouth, lips parting slightly as his breath got heavy at the sight. You kept looking at him the entire time, eyes blinking up at him to take in his every reaction.

“Jesus, __,” he groans. He slips them out and attacks your mouth with a hungry kiss, hand slipping between your bodies and going straight for your pussy. You squeal into his mouth and his tongue immediately slides in as his now soaked fingers fuck into you.

“Hmph-Jungkook!” His name is muffled as his fingers begin thrusting in and out, not giving you a second to breathe properly, mouth ravishing yours with kisses so deep it felt like he was trying to swallow you whole. Hands reaching for his back and shoulders, hips writhing beneath the strength of his body, your head pushes back and away from his mouth, a string of spit connecting your lips and it only breaks when he licks his lips hungrily at the sight of you.

“Yeah?” He moves his fingers harder and your body jolts. “Like that? Tell me, baby.”

“Yes! Yeah,” you whine. Your body thrashes and your head turns to the side as you gasp and pant. He can’t help it, leaning in and running his nose all across your neck and up to your cheeks, teeth nipping at whatever skin he can reach. He can’t get enough of you and you can hear it in the way he breathes heavily and groans out your name.

“Your pussy’s so wet, baby,” he grunts, going faster and faster. “Will you let me fuck you? Will you let me fuck you hard?” He’s groaning but it also sounds like he’s begging, desperate for you to allow him to take you like he wants.

“Yes! Y-yes! Jung-Jungkook pleaseplease-” Your voice is high and it sounds like you’re squealing and he can’t wait to hear what you sound like when he finally has his cock buried in your cunt. “Jungkook! Ohgod fuck me-”

His fingers leave you and he’s lifting his body up from yours, and you can’t help the whine that leaves you. But he’s situating himself between your thighs once again and looking up at you with a wink, and for a second you’re about to question his intentions when he purses his lips and allows a trail of spit to cover your pussy, and the second it connects with you, you’re moaning out loudly.

“You said you liked it messy,” he explain deviously, knees now placed beneath your ass as he finally begins lining his cock up with your entrance. You’re quick to look down, entranced by the sight of the large head rubbing up and down your wetness mixed with his spit, a shiny sheet now coating the sensitive skin. You press your lips together, head spinning with excitement and slight nervousness because it looks so fucking big now that you see it there.

“If I go too fast,” he warns, tip now slowly pushing in. “Or too rough,” his tone is a bit more breathy now, choked back. “You have to tell me.”

You gasp, nodding hastily, but you can’t imagine ever telling him to stop. Nothing he’s done so far has felt too much for you, and you can’t imagine anything involving him not feeling good for you, especially with the way his cock now feels gliding inside you and slowly making you feel full.

“I don’t wanna hurt you, __,” he grunts, halfway in. He’s biting at his lip, brows furrowed, tonguing pushing against his cheek. He takes a deep breath and looks up at you, hands now gripping your thighs, pausing his hips from moving further. “You have to tell me-”

“Jungkook,” you whine, hips bucking and both your moans resonate into the atmosphere as he buckles over, hands releasing your thighs in favor of holding himself up, fists clenched so tightly his veins started popping as they dug into the mattress either side of your torso. He huffs, dark eyes looking up at you through hooded lids, an almost predatory gaze hiding somewhere in there. He looked intimidating but in the best way possible, and you found yourself rolling your hips again. The furrow in his brows gets deeper.

“I don’t want you to hold back,” you plead. “Fuck me. Hard.” You stress on the last word with a whine. The chuckle that leaves his lips almost sounds dark in a way-

“Fuck,” you heave, breath knocked out of you when he pulls his hips back and thrusts back in, not even all the way, but it still has you struggling to breathe.

“You like it rough?” He grunts through heavy breaths, sliding in further and further until you were completely connected and his abdomen connected with yours.

“Ye-fuck!” You squeal out. Hips pulling back and slamming back in, he watches with ravenous eyes the way you tremble beneath him. He does it again, and again, and again, slowly and pausing between each thrust, but each one just as hard the previous.

“I-I-” You stutter out but can’t manage to formulate a single thought because his pace suddenly picks up and you’re left with no resort but to pant and moan out your pleasure. He’d prepped you so well his cock moved inside you so easily, your wetness coating him so nicely, and he only felt you getting wetter every time he filled you to the brim.

“You want me to fuck you? I’ll fuck you, baby.” He’s sitting back on his haunches, powerful thighs supporting yours, before he sets a brutal pace that brings a loud yelp to escape you, It feels so intense, the way he bucks skillful hips into yours and slams into you so hard it feels like it would border on painful, but it doesn’t. It felt so good.

He fulfills his promise. Moans, whimpers, squeals, all sorts of pleasured sounds leave your lips repeatedly. His cock reaches so deep inside you one second, and he’s pulling all the way out in the next before once again repeating the motions. “Ngh-Jungkook. Jungkook! Fuck-”

“Oh fuck baby,” he moans loudly and it sounds so beautiful you want to hear it over and over again. You look up at the sweaty man above you, looking like the most sinful vision. His hair is wet now, a couple of strands dripping with sweat, droplets trailing down his temple, some down his jaw and jaw. His neck, god if you could bite it, it looked so thick and delicious, his adam’s apple bobbing when he swallows thickly. His torso looked even more defined, every single muscle straining and pulling to fuck into you with all his might. What looked most beautiful to you were his arms, veins popping, tattoos clear even in the dim lighting of the bedroom. His hands, big as ever, gripped your thighs so tight his knuckles turned white. He gripped them even tighter for leverage and pulled you closer the same time he pushed hard-

“Fuck! Fuckfuckfuck-” your hands scramble to grab onto something, only finding purchase in the soft sheets that did nothing to anchor you against his ruthless movements. “Jungkook! J-Jungkook baby!”

“You sound so fucking pretty baby,” he grunts. He stares down at his cock and the way it splits you open so prettily, your lips spread around him and the sight was so erotic to him, he threw his head back with a prolonged groan before he leaned forward. He grips your thighs and tugs you down on the bed, placing you in the position he wants and your pussy clenches from that simple action alone

“Even you pussy sounds pretty,” he comments, throwing your thighs into the crook of his elbows, anchoring both hands on the mattress and moving so that you body almost bent in half beneath him. “Hear that?” He pulls all the way out and slams back in so hard his hips smack against your ass loudly, The sound your pussy makes when his cock slips all the way in; wet, it’s loud and clear and it brings a flush to your cheeks, though it hardly shows since you were already red with heat. “So wet.”

The new position makes the sensations double, your thighs burning with how far they were spread but you can’t even begin to care with how he begins to furiously drill his cock into you over and over. Body being fucked into the mattress, mewls and screams of agonizing pleasure escape you, completely losing any sense of control you thought you ever had. He looked like sin embodied, bottom lip tugged beneath his teeth, half-lidded eyes, drenched dark hair swinging with every move, sticking to his flushed cheeks.

Your hands shakily reach up to wrap around his neck, one of them pushing some hair back from his face. Fingernails dig into the back of his neck at a particularly deep thrust, eyes rolling back.

“Oh! Oh god! Jung-Jungkookjungkookjungkook-” His name is a repeated mantra along with hoarse cries and wails. The sheets are damp with sweat beneath you, your body being jostled up and down over top of them with harsh movements that Jungkook doesn’t hold back from anymore.

“Fuck! Your pussy’s so good baby. So wet-” He slows and grinds down against you. Toes curling, back arching, head pushing back into the pillows, your hands slip down his drenched torso across his pecks and settling on his abs, scratching the tensed muscles there as a broken sob leaves your lips.

“Ohgod- oh god- oh fuck! Jungkook please I’m- so good! So fucking good-”

Your desperate rambling excites him and he pushes deeper, and your ears don’t miss the filthy squelch that resonates when grinds his cock into your cunt. You involuntarily clench and he grunts in response. He keeps that way for a couple of seconds, grinding against you, his pubic bone pressing into just the right place to make you see stars.

He slips your thighs down and helps you wrap them around his slender waist before he wastes no time setting the quick pace once again. Hips smacking together loudly, grunts, groans, curses, squeals, they clash together like your bodies do, connected so deeply as he leans down and covers your body completely with his. You look up through hazy vision at his large frame working on top of yours so viciously, blocking everything from around you, not suffocating you but giving you a sense of warmth that has you wrapping your arms around his back and hugging him closely to your body.

Bodies now glued together, his hips swivel as best as they can up into yours, digging so deep, going faster and faster, harder and harder until your moans are quick and chopped up and your hands are slipping down his sweaty, broad back.

“Fuckfuck- Jungkook! Jungkook! Ohgod- oh! Oh!” You cry out. Your legs begin to fall from around him and your feet kick out against the sheets, back arching so high your breasts pressed firmly into his chest. You felt so close to him. His cheek rubs against yours with every thrust, his mouth sucking your earlobe into his mouth and nibbling on it. You turn your head towards him, eyes fluttering shut, taking in every single sliver of pleasure he brought you.

“I’m gonna cum- shit Jungkook pleaseplease- I’m cumming!” You cry out. It’s there. It’s right there. You feel it spreading.

“Fucking-fuck baby. Yeah,” he grunts and pushes harder. You choke on a sob. There are tears in your eyes. “Squeeze my cock. You’re so good. Cum on my cock, baby. That’s it.”

You don’t know if your hands are pulling him closer or pushing him away but he fucks you through it nonetheless, sloppy sounds of his cock drenched in your cum lewd and so loud but you could care less. You’re in heaven. You’re crying out, shouting his name in complete ecstasy and squirming in his hold as he grips your hips so tight they could bruise, pushing in deep and giving you quick shallow thrusts.

“I’m cumming. Fuck I’m cumming, baby,” he groans. His head is hidden in your neck, groaning and grunting into your clammy skin and giving you his all, knees digging into the mattress as he gives three deep thrusts as hard as he can. Your mouth drops open, no sounds coming out, breath cut short. One hand goes to your hair, gripping so tight as he finally lets go, spurts of warm cum filling you up.

The quiet that takes place after is deafening. It’s so loud after all the intensity you had just experienced. Neither of you move an inch away from each other, no, you pull him closer as you feel a drip of his cum leak out. Your hands lazily and gently caress his back. His lips, glued to one spot on your neck, pucker up and continuously place kisses. You’re both sighing dreamily as you relax further into one another and let your bodies relax after so much exertion before he finally lifts his head up just enough to face you.

No words are exchanged but a kiss takes place, slow, sweet, bringing back those butterflies you always have whenever he’s with you and he pulls away with that same shy, stupid smile of his. After all that, he’s still smiling at you like this, and you do nothing but giggle and stroke his hair away from his face.

A while later, after lying together and kissing on each other more, he suggests a shower with an innocent smile that makes you think he really was too tired to try anything else after all that. But you seem to forgot that Jungkook wasn’t this built for nothing and he actually has incredible stamina. Which is why, not even five minutes into the shower, he’s pushing you over the small handle bar and telling you to hold on tight as he spread your legs apart with a nudge of his knees.

He fucks you hard because he knows that’s how you want it. He pulls your hair and tugs you back against his firm chest and whispers the filthiest things in your ear.

“You’re so fucking dirty, baby.”

“You just wanna be fucked hard, huh?”

“Your pussy’s so tight, so warm, perfect for my cock.”

You only ever answer with broken sobs and pitiful moans. The shower is filled with sounds of your bodies colliding together and his harsh grunts that serve to weaken your knees even further until he has to practically hold you up himself. A task he easily does and that makes you even weaker for him.

You cum with hoarse cries, head dropping back against his shoulder as he runs both hands up your front and cups your breasts firmly, hips still slamming against your ass in chase of his own high that he reaches in no time.

He helps you out of the shower with a gentle peck to the tip of your nose as you smile up at him in a daze. He pats you dry with a towel and dabs at your hair to get any excess water out and you continue to stare up at him, entranced.

He looks so pretty. Eyes wide and focused on getting you dry, hair dripping down his face and neck. So different from the man who was just fucking you into next week a couple of minutes ago in the shower. No, this man smiles cutely down at you and giggles when you kiss his chin as he leans down further to dry your thighs. You kiss on his chest, admiring the tattoos scattered from his shoulder and down to his arm and hand. You kiss on him more and he sighs at the feeling, but he doesn’t expect you to push him away to rest his behind against the counter before swiftly dropping down to your knees in front of him.

The bathroom soon fills with his low moans and groans, backed with soft sounds of your mouth working on his cock. He watches closely as you attempt to swallow him down as much as possible, smaller hands working over the rest.

You look up at him through your lashes and watch as his head drops back and exposes the long column of his neck, the sight somehow getting you aroused once again as you feel wetness begin to gather between your legs. You suck harder, pull off and swirl your tongue deliciously around his cock.

“Fuck, that’s it,” he encourages. His hand pets your hair tenderly before he gathers up some strands behind your head to grip. Your mouth looks so good stuffed full of his cock, lips wrapped so prettily around him. He wants to fuck your mouth so bad, but he thinks he’ll save that for a later time so he can give you more time for it. Instead, he leans back and enjoys the show, compliments and praises continuously leaving his lips as you hum against his cock, pleased with his sounds.

He cums down your throat with a long groan of your name and looks down at you with a breathless chuckle as he helps you up to your feet.

He eats you out again. He does it so good this time there are tears in your eyes by the end of it.

He has you ride him, and you do so with vigor, grappling onto his strong and sturdy shoulders for support as you bounce yourself on his cock.

“Shit, shit, shit,” you gasp time and time again. Sweat drips down your back at the effort. Your thighs burn. His eyes look everywhere at you, your face, your neck, your breasts, your dripping cunt. He leans back on his palms and watches with a satisfied smirk as you fuck yourself on his cock.

“That’s a good girl, baby,” he groans. You pause your bouncing and swivel your hips, grinding against him and he throws his head back. Leaning forward, you lick a strip up his neck hungrily, something you’ve been craving to and he grunts loudly.

He’s sitting up and grabbing your ass, fucking up into your hard, three, four times and it’s enough to have you squealing before he lifts your frail body off of him and places you on the mattress with ease.

“Fuck,” he whispers as he situates you. Ass up in the air, face down on the mattress. “I can’t get enough of you,” he groans, grabbing your ass and unable to stop himself from slamming his palm down harshly, an action that has you jolting forward in surprise. “You’re amazing,” he groans as he slides inside of you once again after sitting on his knees behind you. Whimpers fall freely from your lips because he immediately picked up the pace knowing the both of you were too close already. “I could fuck you forever.”

You squeal as another harsh slap lands on your behind.

“Again. More,” you whimper. Fisting the sheets between your palms, tears that were previously held back now escaping your eyes. It was so much. You loved it. “P-please.”

He spanks you again and again and again, as long as you ask for more, he delivers And he fucks you good while doing it, slamming into you so hard he has to keep you steady with his hands. Hips smacking against your ass, cock drilling you into the mattress, battering your cunt so good.

“F-fuck. Fuck J-Jungkook- so good. Sogood. So good oh god please-”

He goes harder. Faster. He spanks you again and more tears fall from your eyes. You bury your face into the mattress and muffle your uncontrollable crescendo of screams and moans into it as your high crashes over you for the nth time this night.

“Oh god, you’re such a good girl,” he breathes almost in disbelief as you cream his cock, coating it with your essence. Eyes glued to his cock still slamming into you. the sight brings him to his release in a couple of seconds as his hips lose their control and become sloppy.

“Shit. Shit! Fuck, __. Oh baby,” he groans and grunts and makes all sorts of noises, once again filling you with his cum as you sniffle and whimper into the mattress, keeping still for him as he comes down from his high.

The shower you two had taken is practically non-existent by now, and you feel sticky again as he gently pulls out and drops onto the mattress with a tired groan.

Both of you were completely burned out by now.

You slowly lift your face from the mattress to look over at him and he’s already staring at you. His cheeks are red. His hair, still damn from the shower, probably coated in sweat now, is sticking to his forehead. He’s breathing hard. He has the biggest smile on his face, two bunny teeth on full show, eyes crinkling, nose scrunching; the whole deal.

“That was nice,” he comments. You giggle.

“That was really nice,” you add lamely, twisting to lay on your side facing him.

He scoots closer and hugs you to him, sneaking his leg between yours until the two of you were pressed together tightly. He’s humming a tune, barely audible, and you trace patterns up and down his back distractedly.

“I really like you Jungkook,” you admit suddenly and you’re already inwardly shaking your head at how stupid that sounded after the intense couple of hours you two had just experienced.

“I think we’ve already established that a long time ago,” he chuckles and pulls back to look down at you.

“No, I-” you pause and look down at his chest shyly. Your fingers continue tracing his warm back. “I really, really like you, Jungkook.”

He kind of gets what you’re trying to say and that maybe you’re just not ready to actually word it out. But he knows for sure when you look up at him and into his eyes. He knows.

“Well, I really, really like you too, __,” he repeats, smile getting smaller and his eyes more serious. His fingers push back your hair and he gently strokes your cheek and nudges his nose against yours as your eyes flutter shut at the intimate contact.

“I’ll always be here,” he repeats words that he’s said to you before. Words that you know are true. Because he always was and always will be here. Sure, he came for the job, but eventually, he stayed for you.

You know, he was your knight in shining armor after all.

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j0514x · 2 years

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Changkyun x OT7 [+ strangers] - Gimme a shot to over everything angst + nsfw + dead dove | ongoing | ao3 previous chapter | next chapter | all

┌───────── · · · · Ch.1: I wonder if my reflection laments

CW: incredibly dub-con | described drug use

He can't see his own hands, violent white strobes replaced with the dull flicker of vibrant red. He sees the silhouette, the width of his palm, the protrusions of the knuckles resting amid each finger, the ghost of something vaguely his. The lines on his palm, the small scratches, callouses, the mementos his hands collected as proof of living are gone, drowned in the cardinal flood of light.

He pushes himself from the booth, leather tacky under his touch, pulled taut towards the button patterning the seating. It wouldn't surprise to sit one day on these only to discover them sheen with their own sweat. There's something uncannily intimate about the material. Skin on skin, one inanimate, an object for the other.

Feet stumble. He wonders what he's searching for. A hand slams to wall, stabilizing himself where legs fail. A tattered array of stories, of art, of mistakes, the walls sit covered in graffiti. Fragments of people he'll never know. A hand drifts up to touch a sticker; square, white, inconspicuous all things considered. He can't even tell what design it bears, but doesn't care enough to try. Fingernails scrape against the wall, dislodging small flakes of cracked paint. It's upsettingly dry, the same matte as a chalkboard, Changkyun the chalk that cries out so violently against it. A corner of the sticker folds over, yielding. He runs a nail against it again.

Limbs phantom, waves of numbness crash through him, a heated buzz resting in his lower stomach. Someone grabs him by the jaw, rough, careless. Comradeship with the booth seating, Changkyun's nothing more than an object here. Moans spill from him as lips crash against his. Something sickly coats Changkyun's tongue, rum and coke, he thinks. He imagines he doesn't taste much better. Hungry, the tip of his tongue runs along a row of teeth, enticing. It's gritty, there's the remains of powder coating the stranger's gums.

The hand on his jaw tightens, stranger pulling away with a trail of spit-strings, and Changkyun finds himself being dragged away.

He knows this dance well, reciting the steps in his sleep. He doesn't exist until someone picks him from the shelf. He forgets how many times he's been taken. Part of him wonders if there's anything left.

Part of him already knows there isn't.

They don't bother with stalls for him anymore, cold porcelain of the sink smashing into his hip, there's nothing left to hide. His head is wrenched up, forced to watch himself in the mirror.

He hasn't been to an art gallery in a long time. Hyungwon took him once, maybe it was the last time, maybe it wasn't. It's the only time he remembers. It was cold, hard pine floors and hostile white walls; every painting quarantined from the next, a foot of limbo between worlds. Hyungwon wore one of his overcoats, near-ankle length and the same shade of black as his hair. Changkyun envies the people who look upon blank canvases, stretching a wingspan, only to find possibility and not fear.

He watches himself on the canvas before him, light catching on the edges of the glass, bleeding. It's so distant, he thinks. A film playing on loop.

"What do-" Changkyun starts, the stranger yanking his trousers to the floor, "what do I get in return?" He doesn't recognise the voice that comes from his lips.

"This." He feels something warm, wet, tap thrice against his ass; he begins fighting the grasp that holds him.

"Come on, not like you need incentive." The figure behind him sighs. "Fine, whatever. Fucking-"

Rustling, the stranger searches the pockets of the jeans resting around his ankles. Small plastic pouches crumple between his fingers; Changkyun feels his cock twitch.

"It's fucking- it's powdered, not liquid. Take it or leave it." The figure leans over the the sink, over Changkyun, making show of crushing his hips against the sink. A rough line of powder is tapped out, barely visible under the light.

Changkyun's hands tremble, sniffing hard before reaching to press a nostril closed. Leaning down, a pause, he steels himself. The flood of red fades as he lets his eyes slip close, inhaling the powder sharply. He winces, throwing his head back, sniffing violently. A hard swallow, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose, gently rubbing. Gritty, just like the remnants on the stranger's gums.

"Done?" The voice behind him asks, rhetorical.

Changkyun goes to nod, but finds himself cut off, wincing once more as he's stretched brutally around the stranger's girth. Stepping foot to foot, he readjusts his hips, but is granted no time to accommodate; the stranger pounding Changkyun relentlessly, folding him over the damp sink. Muffled melodies blur into the background, bathroom full instead of humiliatingly obscene sounds of skin hitting skin. It's a mercy, Changkyun finds, that he rarely needs prep. There is use in being left gaping and full of cum from the person before.

And the person before that.

Hands grip the edge of the sink, teeth gritted; knees weaken as white hot pressure builds, threatening to drop him to the floor. A beat of sweat trickles from his brow. The stranger reaches his slender hands to find Changkyun's throat, curling around, squeezing tight. Changkyun's legs shake, muscles twitching uncontrollable as moans cascade from his liquor-slick lips. His head feels heavy, lolling gently from side to side, the room slowly disappearing into a blurred haze. A swallow, and he chokes, throat caught by the stranger's grip. In some other room, some other life, he hears the ricochet of his voice, keens of 'shibal' . It's euphoric, indulging in the weight of his limbs, feeling his body lose strength. A string of spit falls from his lips, body twitching. A cry as his cock jumps, pumping rivulets of cum that splatter against the floor, against his shoes. Eyes drifting shut, his vision allowed to desert him.

Veins sear cold with panic as he gasps himself awake, throat dry and spit thick, he chokes. It takes a moment to stop, sharp inhales and wide eyes swapped for the soft heaving of his chest. Changkyun pulls his sweat-soaked skin from the leather of his sofa with painful sting, legs swinging round till they find the stability of ground. Head in hands, he holds himself, lungs filled with shaky deep breaths.

He should get a new rug. This one has been through too much. Gaze tracing the matted tufts of fur, the "unknown" stains. He stretches his toes; it still feels good against his skin, soft despite everything. A fond scoff escapes as he recalls a flickering memory of Jooheon, film reel crackling. It was maybe 3AM, no more than 4AM. He doesn't remember what they were doing, what they were supposed to be working on. All he remembers is the soft glow as Jooheon laughed, drunkenly swaying at every joke Changkyun told; Johnny Walker, just for Honey. The only time his rug ever felt coarse, felt harsh to the touch, was after his fingertips had drowned in the soft skin of Jooheon's jaw.

He looks away from the floor, reaching for his phone, yanking it from the charger.

10:17AM 8 missed calls Kihyun: 12 messages Instagram: You might know these accounts... monstas: 54 messages

A sigh, eyes scanning through the notifications, weighing options, before landing upon one to open.

>Kihyun [00:12}: Kyun >Kihyun [00:12]: Where the fuck are you >Kihyun [00:15]: It's been four days >Kihyun [00:16]: Again >Kihyun [00:37]: Fucks sake >Kihyun [02:41]: You selfish bastard >Kihyun [02:42]: Just come home >Kihyun [02:42]: Please >Kihyun [05:14]: I don't understand >Kihyun [05:15]: Why won't you come home? >Kihyun [05:15]: We love you. >Kihyun [08:39]: If the next time I see you if to identify your body, I'll never forgive you Changkyun.

Thumbs hover over the letters on screen, twitching towards sentence starts only to abandon them just as fast. His shoulders ache.

>Me [10:23]: im fine

The message begins its journey, bouncing through small animations, small illusions of physic it never gets to complete before Changkyun's screen lights up with a call. He hesitates over the red circle.

"WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU?"

"Studio... just woke up." His voice comes out hoarse, unintentional emphasis to his point.

"I'm coming to get you." He hears the clash of keys, a door slamming. Stairs.

"No. Go- go get yourself a coffee. Or something, I don't know..." Changkyun trails off, hand through his crusted hair.

"What? No. I'm on my way, don't fucking hang up."

"Shit, I need to shower, Ki - my hair's knotted to shit. I'm gonna hang up-" A car door slams shut.

"No." Kihyun snaps. "You take the damn phone in the shower with you if it's that fucking important."

"Fucking hell... What happened to you, Ki?" There's a beat of silence, violent in its desolation. Changkyun's frame crumples, concrete wall of regret crashing from the skies.

"WHAT HAPPENED TO M-"

"Yeah... yeah. Yeah. Yeah, I'm sorry. I-" I know what happened to you. I did. The sentence dies in his throat.

The click of an indicator echoes through the phone.

"Hey, uh. I'm... I'm gonna shower. I'll keep y- I'll keep the phone with me."

"Good."

A knot pulls, ribs caving around the cavern of Changkyun's chest hearing Kihyun's tone so utterly fed up. He feels nauseous.

#changkyun #kihyun #monsta x #monsta x fic #monsta x imagine #monsta x scenario #changkyun smut #changkyun imagine #monsta x smut #GASTOE.jx

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sikyung-s · 1 year

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when sikyung was little , kicking his feet in the airplane seat , buzzing with energy that should have bothered his parents ( it didn’t because they were not sitting anywhere near him , the nanny was ) as they were on the way to the states , they would have never imagined in the years to come the person he was looking forward to seeing the least would have been the first person he messaged to come to the carnival with him .

at first , he didn’t necessarily intend on going . it was the weekend and he was exhausted from his shift the night prior , kids classes really are the bane of his existence even though they’re also the sweetest things on the planet . their limbs were aching and he had a livestream happening later that night he needed to prepare for , but he was also feeling too cooped up in his apartment . people that saw where he lived would never understand how one could feel that way , especially in something so spacious , but perhaps that was the issue ? the loneliness creeping towards him from every corner of the room , suffocating him until it felt like they couldn’t breathe any longer .

in a moment like that , sikyung pulls his phone off the charger and opens the kkt application , eyes scanning quickly for eileen’s chat … one of the closest to the top so he didn’t have to look to hard .

sent at 12:08 PM • SIKYUNG ⤻ EILEEN . ✉️ ‣ wanna meet up at the carnival in an hour ? ✉️ ‣ i’ll buy u every snack u could possibly want … and let you beat me in a game once or twice 😁

with the hopes of her saying yes , sikyung pulls himself from his tucked in position on the couch and trudges to his bathroom to soak away the pain before he throws on a simple sweater and a pair of jeans ( carnivals were dirty and he was not going to let any of his expensive stuff see the light of day ) . with a quick glance in his full body mirror , they comb a hand through their hair and sigh , wondering if they were really up for going out knowing once he got home he’d want to pass out the minute his head hits his pillow .

shaking his head , he straightens out his sweater one last time before shooting off another message .

sent at 12:30 PM • SIKYUNG ⤻ EILEEN . ✉️ ‣ don’t be late !!

my treat ft. @ofeileen .

#sunsetevent: spring carnival #ofeileen.#apologies for the length.............

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cest-la-vieve · 2 years

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A Court of Pain and Pleasure (Ch. 4)

Summary: Evelyn and Cyril sitting in a tree! Our sweet Evelyn gets a whirlwind romance!!

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: Chronic disability/pain, slight cussing

Notes: i have the patience and memory of a goldfish. so voila, chapter 4!

Next Chapter: Chapter Five

ACOPAP Masterlist

---

It would be a long while before my path crossed with Feyre’s again. I spent my time in the weeks following her visit with books, spending time in the garden with Elain as spring approached, writing letters to Feyre to hear of her time in Prythian, and secretly training myself to be stronger. It was hard once the servants returned to find the time to slip out into the woods, doing a combination of strength training and walking longer distances, but I managed. They disliked the fact that I would return home sweaty, muddy, and exhausted, but obeyed my commands to not tell my sisters. My father was still on his trip to barter and strike deals with people far beyond our manor, but I couldn’t be bothered to care. As much as I loved him, as he was my father, I still harbored negative feelings for what he had forced Feyre to do, forced her to become.

Days passed and I could see the gradual difference in my own physique. Before, I had been curvier than my sisters due to the lack of exercise and the complications caused by my condition, but now I was more defined, thinner. I could see the muscles in my arms and though my hips remained swollen from their condition, I could feel the strength that they, too, were beginning to have. The pain didn’t leave, despite the doctors telling me my whole life that it would if I built up the strength, but I did feel more confident I wouldn’t collapse with each step I took.

Sometimes on the tougher days, the lonelier days, I would find myself talking to the shadows that lived in the corners of my bedroom. I knew it was foolish to think that with a war on the horizon the Shadowsinger of the most powerful Court would waste time, energy, and resources listening to the musings of a broken, mortal woman. I just couldn’t help the fact that I imagined the shadows listening, moving as I spoke of my hopes and dreams, as I lamented my pitiful existence, or sometimes even shared the bits of gossip I heard from the many balls and gatherings Elain dragged me to.

Elain’s wedding was getting ever closer and I found myself withdrawn from her planning. I spent more time at the pub, much to Nesta’s chagrin, but I enjoyed the atmosphere. I could sit in a booth and people-watch, some merry and celebrating, others drinking away their sorrows. I would read, and one such day that’s exactly what I was doing when I felt someone slide into the opposite side of my booth.

A handsome man, by all accounts. He looked to be my age and had a slightly crooked smile and a roguish beauty about him. He had strawberry blonde hair and hazel eyes… hazel eyes that were nowhere near as stunning as Azriel’s, or even as Cassian’s, for that matter.

He offered me a polite smile and pointed to my book, “Every time I come in here, I see you with your nose buried in a book. I’ve finally given in to the urge to find out what it is that has you so enamored.”

A question and a statement, he had seen me before and was now trying to make conversation. I looked around the room and noticed the shadows didn’t dance as they normally seemed to, didn’t give me the same feeling they usually gave me. So I decided to indulge and humor him.

“You must not think much of me if you believe it is the same book every time,” I teased.

He feigned hurt, “A lady as beautiful as you? Never. I simply assumed you read books on the same topic, but I would not be offended to be wrong.” I smiled, “I usually try to vary my reading, but my eldest sister has gotten me enamored with romance novels as of late.”

He chuckled a bit as I stole his word to describe why I loved reading the things I read. “Enlighten me, then,” his eyes meeting mine, “What kind of romance is described in these novels?”

“The all-consuming, life-altering kind,” I responded simply.

“Fiction, then,” he laughed as I followed suit. He was probably right, the love in these books was likely fictional, something that I would always dream of but could never experience.

“Cyril,” he said, offering me his hand. I took it in my own, but noticed the lack of calluses or scars, meaning this man had likely never seen a day of hard labor or strife.

“Evelyn,” I replied politely.

The evening went on with us chatting about the kinds of books we read and him teasing me for being so caught up in the fantasies of love and Prythian. If only he knew how real Prythian was and how close it was to swallowing up our world. But I only let the thought briefly cross my mind as I resigned myself to enjoying the night and the pleasant conversation. He was sweet and charming, with a pretty smile and, damn it, I deserved to be wooed.

As the tavern began to close around us, customers leaving and workers beginning to clean up, he offered to walk me home and I accepted. It was nice, walking with his oh-so-human warmth beside me back to my manor. It reminded me of the small things that plagued most of the minds around me - courting, village life, the amount of money in the coffers. My mind was usually so plagued with the bigger issues - war, Fae, impending doom - that I was refreshed to pretend I was concerned with the little things.

We approached the Archeron manor, candlelight flickering in the windows as shadows of servants dashed to and fro. We stopped at the gate and I looked up into his hazel eyes, allowing myself to pretend for a moment that the eyes belonged to someone else He looked nervous and fidgeted with his hands as he opened his mouth and then closed it. I knew what he was considering. I took his hand in mine and met those eyes again.

He leaned forward and I did too, ready to lose myself in the normalness of the moment. Right as our lips were about to meet, a shadow flickered. It could have been my imagination, and it more than likely was, but it brought me back to reality.

Cyril. Kind, handsome Cyril. Human Cyril. I had no desire to let him get swept up in this madness and I certainly didn’t know him well enough to ask he stand by my side as I helped the High Fae defeat whatever evil was coming.

So I pulled back, my hands on his chest. I could see the disappointment and hurt in his eyes as he realized I pulled away, but he made no move to try to kiss me again.

“A bit unladylike for me to kiss you after just meeting you, wouldn’t you agree?” I laughed but could tell it didn’t reach my eyes.

“And a bit ungentlemanly for me to attempt it,” he easily joked back.

“Not at all, I’m quite flattered. I just know I would never hear the end of it from my sisters if I allowed you to kiss me without properly courting me first,” A worthy excuse, not one I could keep up forever, but perhaps long enough to figure out what I wanted.

He nodded and smiled, “Then perhaps I could invite you to lunch? I have business with my father tomorrow but I would be happy to see you the day after?”

I considered it. One lunch wouldn’t hurt. I nodded and couldn’t keep the smile from my face as he whooped triumphantly.

“Thank you for your company tonight,” I said, unlocking the gate.

“It was my pleasure,” he responded, before bowing a bit and retreating down the road.

I sighed as I entered the house, waiting for the onslaught of questions from my sisters about the handsome man who walked me home. Elain greeted me first and I saw her eyes flick to Cyril’s retreating back before she grinned and opened her mouth to speak, but Nesta cut her off. “Evelyn, I require you upstairs. We have something to discuss.”

Elain let her disappointment show and she pouted her bottom lip. At this, I allowed myself to laugh. “His name is Cyril,” I answered her unasked question, “and he’s very kind but he simply offered to walk me home because it was getting dark, nothing more.”

She seemed semi-satisfied with this and I relaxed a bit before turning to Nesta. She simply beckoned me upstairs. I trudged behind her as we walked to her study, a room filled with books - mostly romance novels, though she would never admit it - and a small writing desk where she would handle correspondence while our father was away. Across from her desk, there was a small reading area with two big armchairs and a rug with foxglove designs. I knew she had chosen it with Feyre in mind, though that was another thing she would never admit. She sat in one of the chairs, gesturing for me to do the same.

I did, quickly slumping unceremoniously into the chair, one foot tucked under me while the other leg was bent up. I rested my head on my chin, surely looking ridiculous but feeling comfortable, and looked at Nesta.

She looked exhausted. She ran her hand over her face and let loose a sigh. Even though I knew I was the only person she let see this side of her - the human, feeling side - it still surprised me every time she dropped that mask. That mask would go whenever it wasn’t just her and I. I still had some not-so-sweet thoughts about our time in the cabin and how she had treated all of us, but I also knew that her hardness was how she survived.

“You look tired,” I voiced my thoughts.

“I am,” she said roughly. “Between Father being gone, Elain’s wedding, and this faerie nonsense, I barely have time to think.”

“You don’t have to take this all on, Nes. I could help. I may not be the most experienced but I’m sure if I took the time to think about it I could plan a badass wedding.”

She barked out a laugh, “Your idea of a wedding would probably include some sort of sacrifice and everyone dressed in ridiculous garb.”

I nodded, a huge smile on my face. “Oh, absolutely. I think there should be strange men in masks dancing around, just to confuse everyone. Perhaps live animals roaming free. It’s not like we have gods that would be offended by the proceedings of such a union,” I joked.

“I cannot imagine the look on Elain’s face if she heard that you were helping to plan her wedding.”

“Greyson would have no idea what hit him,” I agreed.

Nesta seemed to finally relax as she asked, “So who is this Cyril that you were with?”

“Nobody, Nes. You have too much going on as is, no need to concern yourself with my business,” I waved a hand, hoping to brush her off.

“Eve, I’d be more than happy to hear about your dalliances with that young man, if only to distract me from other things. Plus, I might as well add another wedding to the docket,” she eyed me, gauging my reaction. “Since Elain’s is so soon, people will begin to wonder when yours will follow.”

I straightened, my comfortable pose now forgotten, “I do not plan on being wed anytime soon. Besides, I just met Cyril tonight, and as handsome as he is, I have many things I wish to accomplish before being sold off to a man.”

Nesta nodded, but her words disagreed with her action as she told me, “You may want to consider it. With everything that we face ahead, it might not be a bad idea for you to have a family to run to for protection.”

I went to snap at her that this family was all I needed, but I took a moment to let her words sink in. I would be useless in combat, it didn’t take a genius to guess that. I even doubted I would be able to help much with strategy as I didn’t understand the mysterious land to the North. Perhaps it would be best if Feyre didn’t have to worry about me - If I was safe in the protection of another family’s estate.

Nesta seemingly took my pause as rejection, “This is about the Shadowsinger, isn’t it?”

Bewildered, I snapped my head up, “No! Why would you even say that?”

“I saw the way you looked at him. You deserve better, Evelyn. Someone human, someone without the baggage that he seems to carry..”

Even as my head agreed with her, my heart rebelled. It thumped against the confines of my chest as I thought of Azriel’s sturdy yet gentle gaze, the way he thought so deeply before any word left his mouth, and the deadly power that radiated from him. I thought of his shadows, the way he let them play in my hands, and how I felt when they had brushed against me. I shuddered and shook my head, willing the thoughts away.

“You’re right,” I finally said, “I do deserve someone better.” But the words felt wrong on my tongue, even if I knew Cyril was more sturdy and would be around more for me than Azriel would.

She let out a harumph and leaned back in her chair. We spent the rest of the evening joking, talking about Elain’s wedding, and drinking the wine she had someone bring up. It was nice to see her relax a bit, but I knew come tomorrow morning she would be right back to her stiff and disdainful self. I always hated when she put the mask back on, even if I knew she never really took it off. Even during these moments between us, I could hear her holding back and shielding me from certain aspects of her. I knew that we had all been through a lot and coping came differently to everyone, but sometimes Nesta’s method of getting through what we had gone through clashed with my own. It made it difficult when I craved that emotional closeness that Feyre and I shared and Nesta’s response was to build more walls.

Eventually, Nesta and I grew tired and agreed that it was probably time to turn in. Normally, I was more than excited to go into my room and blow out the candles that illuminated it, hoping the resulting darkness would feel the same as those shadows on my fingers. Part of me even hoped something or someone was watching me in that darkness. Tonight though, as I settled into my bed and the darkness surrounded me, I felt nothing but empty.

The emptiness remained when I woke up the next morning, but I couldn’t put my finger on what had caused the ache in my chest. I spent the day in my room and hardly ate, only relenting when Elain visited me with a bowl of fresh fruit. She sat with me as I ate and told me about her day, how Greyson had finally sent his side of the guest list and she had begun drawing up a seating chart. I nodded along and commented here and there until a knock and commotion from downstairs echoed into my room.

Elain and I both quieted as a male voice followed shortly after, then my name was called. I pulled myself from my chair and padded my way down the hallway and to the top of the stairs. I paused as a grinning Cyril met my gaze from the bottom of the steep steps I stood on.

“Lady Evelyn,” he bowed, “I know we had agreed on meeting tomorrow but I couldn’t get the vision of you out of my head. I’m hoping you’ll join me on a walk around my estate?”

I nodded mutely, fumbling for words at the surprise that overtook me. “I’d be honored,” I finally managed, “just give me a moment to change into something more suitable.”

He nodded and stepped away from the stairs, one of the servants presumably guiding him to the living room. I turned back to Elain who let out a squeal of excitement. She pulled me back into my room and set to work, getting me dressed and pinning my hair in a half-up, half-down style. I sat quietly and made a decision. Cyril. I said in my head. Cyril, Cyril, Cyril. I chanted it as Elain led me back down the hall, down the steps, and into the living room where Cyril was nursing a cup of tea.

He sat his cup down and stood, holding out a hand. I shrugged on a heavy coat, to avoid the harsh bite of winter air. I accepted his hand and together we walked down the stairs of my family’s manor and onto the gravel path.

He released my hand saying, “Thank you for accompanying me. It’s a beautiful day to walk with such a beautiful woman, and I found once the thought entered my mind it wouldn’t leave.” I blushed, “Thank you for inviting me, I’m lucky to have caught the attention of such a handsome and thoughtful man. Despite the chill, the sun is beautiful today.”

He blushed as well, dipping his face down and away from me. We sat in comfortable silence for the rest of the walk, until we came upon his family’s estate. It was large - larger than my own with a labyrinth of gardens and stables. I stared in awe and he just chuckled, “A bit pretentious, I know.”

“It’s beautiful,” I said. “Which garden will we be seeing first?” I glanced at him with eager eyes. If Elain was here, I could picture the squeak that would leave her lips at the thought of exploring these beautiful gardens. Even though there were no flowers because of the season, it was magical - Great trees and bushes decorated with sparkling snow.

Cyril pointed to the furthest one and grabbed my hand, guiding me through the twisted paths leading to it. He told me stories of his family as we walked, of how his mother and father met, how his younger sisters, far younger than us, loved to play hide and go seek in the gardens, and even how his eldest brother had died at the hands of a foreign mercenary, sent to seek repayment from Cyril’s family for a debt.

I listened intently and contributed where I felt appropriate, adding in stories of my own family, leaving out the most interesting bits about how my sister was now High Fae and we were hoping to prevent a war, and stuck to cute family stories. I told him of how my father was also in debt, and while we did not lose anyone, how we were all forced to the woods to fight for our survival.

We stopped at a small wooden bench beneath a large weeping willow tree. I stood taking in the beauty and majesty of it before joining Cyril on the bench. I openly stared at him, his pale skin, blonde hair, the mischievous look that always seemed under the surface, like he was always ready - and hoping - for adventure.

“What are you thinking?” He asked.

“I’m thinking it would be easy to fall in love with you,” I answered honestly.

“My dear Evelyn, it will be even easier for me to fall in love with you,” he replied, not missing a beat.

And he was right. As the weeks dragged on, I spent as much time with Cyril as his schedule would allow. We would walk but mostly sit, either in silence or talk about our innermost thoughts. None of it felt forced. Weeks went by and we shared our first kiss under that tree he had brought me to on that first walk. I loved Cyril - I knew I did. At night though, those shadows would haunt me. I just couldn’t help but think of what life with Azriel could be like. It was just a crush. A haunting sense of what if. That’s how I knew I wasn’t in love with Cyril, but perhaps just loving him would be enough.

Weeks later, I could tell when he was getting ready to propose when he brought me back to that big weeping willow where things had started. It took me only a moment to respond with a hearty, resounding, “Yes.”

I knew it was unfair when he was far more in love with me than I was with him, but he offered stability and friendship, things I desperately craved at the moment. And so we were engaged. A dainty ruby ring was placed on my finger and a smile in his eyes as he kissed me. His lips felt familiar and brought me comfort, but I still longed for that feeling I had when I stared into Azriel’s eyes and held his shadows.

Nesta had told me of Rhysand’s various attempts to reach the Queens, though all of his letters went unreturned. At least, that was what I thought when I traipsed into my home, ready to announce my engagement to my sisters.

Suffice to say, I was surprised to see Feyre, Cassian, Rhys, and Azriel sitting in our home with an unknown female High Fae.

“Um, hello.”

#acotar #acomaf #acowar #acosf #nesta archeron #elain archeron #feyre archeron #rhysand #feysand #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #a court of thorns and roses #a court of mist and fury #azriel shadowsinger x reader #azriel shadowsinger x ofc

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forineffablereasons · 3 years

Text

It doesn't look like much.

In fact, it looks like so little that Aziraphale doesn't notice it at first. By the time he does, he can't remember exactly when it got there: this cardboard box.

It's a flimsy thing, a little battered. One of the flaps is creased hard where it was bent in order to fold the top closed; the corners are scuffed. It sits, innocuous and tremendous all at once, shoved halfway underneath the desk in the back room that houses Aziraphale's personal computer, pretending to be casual. Pretending not to matter.

Aziraphale knows it matters, because Aziraphale opened it.

There isn't much inside. A scrap of paper. An ancient ansaphone. An empty planter. A book.

To anyone else, these things look like remnants of a life, forgotten things left by forgotten people. To Aziraphale, who knows better, these things look like a beginning.

The start of something new.

Agnes Nutter's final prophecy. The ansaphone Aziraphale has left messages on for the last thirty years. A planter, waiting for new life.

A book Aziraphale doesn't own. The Big Book of Astronomy.

"Angel, what are you---oh." Crowley stops in the doorway, his hands automatically shoving so fast into the pockets of his jeans that he nearly tips himself over. "That's, erm, nothing, really, nothing to worry about--"

Aziraphale looks up at him, his pink cheeks, his yellow eyes that don't quite meet Aziraphale's own. "These are your things."

"Er--I--mmm---yeah," Crowley grates out. One hand emerges from his pockets to rub at the back of his neck. "A bit."

"A bit," Aziraphale repeats, looking back down at them. "And you brought them here?"

"Look, I can just take them back if it bothers you--"

"Absolutely not." Aziraphale puts the box down, starts taking the things out of it. The scrap of prophecy finds itself pinned to a bulletin board that hadn't existed ten minutes ago. The ansaphone settles into a newly cleared spot next to Aziraphale's telephone, and because Aziraphale expects that it will now take his messages, it will. The book slots perfectly into place on a shelf upstairs, right next to the window that gets the best view of the night sky, where a telescope might just fit.

"Aziraphale," Crowley says, a little helplessly, as his things find new places to belong in the bookshop. As their lives slot together, bit by insignificant bit.

Aziraphale lifts the planter out of the box last, holding it with both hands. It's clean and fresh, and in the next moment, it's full of dirt and roots, of leaves and stems.

Two white flowers unfurl from the new growth, tinged with green, new and waxy. Peace lilies.

"I think we've earned it, don't you?" he asks, looking back up at Crowley. "A little peace?"

Crowley steps forward, hesitantly at first, but then again, and again. He leans in, kisses Aziraphale's cheek softly, takes the plant from him.

"Near the east window, angel?"

"I think that will do nicely," Aziraphale says, and follows him out to find the light.

#good omens #ineffable husbands #cardboard box #gos2 #darcy writes ineffably

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moonxsta · 2 years

Text

Why Does This feel Like Goodbye?

Hyun-Su x Grim Reaper!GN Reader

Summary; he regrets that night, the night that was the beginning of his broken heart, yet grateful for guiding him into a temporary light in the midst of hell and giving him new hope.

Word count; 2,456k

Warning; Angst, Mention of Self H*rm,Mention of Commiting Su*icide, Cuts, Bruises, A Tiny sprinkle of an intimate scene (don't worry, cause it's only for a few seconds)

Remember the night that we met up? Broken to me and taken everything left in my heart,

Hell, that's the only thing he knows about his life, so he escapes those times when he can get a breath and that was midnight.

So when he met you at that time, he regretted it so much while still being grateful for meeting you as you stand there and while meeting your E/C eyes.

—

Walking at the side of the road as the chilly wind hits his face, a H/C hair held his gaze in the corner.

He was the only one who walks in the area for comfort, so suddenly seeing someone else just standing there staring at nothing strikes him odd.

So fragile is that air it always keeps on revolving near and wide…

He takes one step forward to the person as this caused him to walk towards them unconsciously

And in a blink, their form disappeared.

Thinking he's just hallucinating, he goes back to walk as the H/C haired form smile sadly at them behind their back.

—-

Wake up

Get ready

Enter hell

Get beaten up

Cut his wrist

This was his usual routine every time he goes to school.

And he sometimes wishes to change it for the better but he already lost hope for it for long already

But yet just meeting the familiar H/C and E/C again that holds something different as he gazes at those while in the dull dirty hallways has changed it.

Loneliness envelopes deep in your eyes

"Hello?" Your voice was soft and normal like the others, yet why does he feel something different about it when he heard it the first time?

His gaze stared back at your own as you held a small smile pulling out your arms.

"Hi, I'm Y/n. Nice to meet you!"

He felt sorrow at that time.

Now whenever he passes the same hallway after lunch, you're always there sitting beside the two boxes as one box holds his favorite food, greeting him with the same small smile giving him the other box that held his favorite dish

"Please eat it" You always say that whenever you give him the same box that was his favorite color

So he did your request.

And soon after that day, you'll come to sneak up on him waving your hands, greeting him with happiness toned in your voice, giving him lunch every after lunchtime as he passes by, and check up on him.

He wonders why he always just accepts those small requests you give since that started

Was it because of your aura?

Was it your emotions you always held deep down in those eyes of yours?

Was it because of how caring you are that reminds him that kind people still exist?

—

"HEY!" your voice shouted as you ran towards the boy who held an emotionless look at his face

Gazing at your form, he noticed how others don't even care about how loud you are causing him to be confused.

You snapped his thoughts by giving him a pat on his shoulders, which caused him to bite his lips and hold back a grunt

Noticing his odd behavior you quickly took off your hands off his shoulders and drag him by his hands in a hallway where the nurse’s office is. Knowing this is the time you'll check up on him he didn't bother to pry off his hand of your soft yet cold hands.

The nurse's office is always open to use if there’s a severe injury or wounds to treat whenever the nurse is gone to take a break, thus making you abuse the chances of it every time you see one.

As you open the door with your other arm, you drag him but not enough to hurt him inside the white clean room.

You push him gently to sit on the white fluffy mattress. As soon as he did, you walked towards the cabinets, getting the equipment to clean cuts and bruises.

Noticing the things you're getting, he realized one thing

His bruises.

Yes, some of his bruises are visible on his face, but not enough to see far away so he wondered how you're able to see it when you didn't even give the feeling of you looking and inspecting his face whenever you try to make small talks to him.

You snap his thoughts once again by walking towards him, different types of equipment at hands making his dark brown eyes look up at you.

Setting in the pieces of equipment beside him, you took his hands, pushing the white sleeves of his uniform getting greeted by cuts fresh and old ones implanted at his pale skin.

He just got even more confused.

He also knows that you have acknowledged his bruises by the pat on his shoulder and by giving away his reaction, but you knowing his cuts at his wrist caused by him just made him weirder of you.

A shocked expression makes upon your face as your eyes look down, observing the bloodied and rough cuts.

Quickly you grabbed a well-cleaned cloth applying gentle pressure at the cuts trying to draw blood that had been visibly showing out, causing the boy to stare down at his wrist and your hands. Suddenly, giving more pressure on his wrist, he hisses quietly in pain.

After some while of cleaning and bandaging the cuts, you throw out the used clothing at the trash can in the corner of the room.

You stand up, taking a new one from the cabinets. Turning your head after getting one, you look back at him as you felt his gaze at your form,

"I know this might be awkward…", you spoke out before you paused, causing a brief silence in the room,

"But you need to take off your uniform at least-" you continued, but before you can finish your sentence, he starts to take off his uniform with his undershirt, making you panic.

Frantically waving your hands while shaking your head, you managed to stop him by speaking up again.

"No! You don't need to take off your undershirt with you. I just need to check up on your shoulders," you shouted in a panic, but thankfully he listened as he dropped back his undershirt and left it, his main uniform at hand.

After taking off his main uniform, you walked back to his side, checking and inspecting the bruises he had still fresh and red

Checking his face closely for any bruises too, this caused the boy to blush intensively and widen his eyes by your gaze and lips just mere inches at his cherry-red face.

Realizing your actions, you quickly took a step back as you muttered a 'sorry' embarrassed at what you had done.

Getting the clean cloth you tidy up his bruises on his shoulders and face, the blushing and embarrassment still not being able to escape out of the room.

Finally finished at cleaning his cuts and bruises, you set back the items at the cabinets while throwing out the used clothes

A sudden voice interrupts the tense, awkward air,

"Thank you," the boy muttered, merely a whisper. Tho you heard it well,

"You're welcome," you spoke back, sending a small smile on his way to you speak up again at him,

"You know I never got your name even though I ask all the time, so what's yours?" you asked looking at him, slightly tilting your head as you sat beside him who's wearing back his uniform.

"Hyun-Su. That's my name," he answered quietly as he buttoned up his shirt.

"Nice name," you complimented him as your feet dangled at the edge of the bed.

Looking away flustered by the compliment, he asked a question,

"How do you know about the…" he inquired, though a long silence was filled in the tense room after the said question.

"Cuts?" You continued for him as you stopped moving your feet, making you look at him in a questioning manner.

"I just saw some tiny blood at your sleeves so I came to check it out," you answered, making him check his sleeves but not a single blood was visible. But as soon as you did the bell rang signaling it was time for another period to start.

Standing up on your feet and holding out your arm helping Hyun Su to stand up properly, he accepts the offer as two of you walk towards the door holding the doorknob before you pause, looking at the awkward, tense boy.

"I'll see you again. Promise me to let me be your friend alright?" You said as you let out your pinkie, motioning him to do the same.

Pulling out his pinkie, you intertwined your finger in his, gazing up into his eyes as one sentence comes out of your mouth.

"Don't do that again and fight back."

That was the last time he heard of you. But deep down, he hopes to hear and see you once again.

Only perceiving through your eyes, I see nothing, I'll soon hate you, keep me out, I'm crying out.

This was the day.

The day to fall down the tall building

The day to end his hell hole of a life.

But yet as soon as he steps in the place where he will end it all he halts on his walk as soon as he sees your form, your hair and the same uniform you wear at his school flowing with the wind as you stand at the edge of the building.

You are the person who was his first friend that he made in the midst of hell.

You, the person who treated him as a human and took care of him

He was stunned too stunned to move. He barely can even move a muscle to walk and grab your form back to the ground to give it a crushing hug.

He's confused

He's aggravated

He feels miserable.

All emotions topple over him as tears burn inside his dark brown eyes as one name speaks out of his lips,

"Y/n."

Turning your figure to face the boy who's standing slump, tears slowly falling down his face, you gave him a sad smile etched on your face.

Walking slowly towards the poor boy, you gave him a crushing hug, your face planted at the same shoulder You treated him. You choked on sobs trying to hold it in.

You're falling into deeper fascination, givin' away your love. That expression has got me crying out

"Why..." he spoke barely above a whisper, making you look up at him with those e/c eyes on where he always caught something in them.

"No, wanna stop it, you got me tired of walking" Never told you the truth, I'm feeling that inside

Tho this time, you showed the somber in your eyes and that made him weak.

He feels like breaking down then and there and thrash around screaming at the top of his voice, but he's too weak at that when he stared at those gazes of yours,

"Why did you go?" His voice cracked at the end as he hugs you tighter, making you both swing by force as more tears come out of his eyes flowing down his cheeks.

You look up at him with a sympathetic look plastered on your teary red face as you let out another smile of yours.

Oh, how beautiful were those but now.. They just feel different inside him after a long time of not seeing your cheery but gloomy presence.

"I can't do it" Four words only came out of your bitten bloodied lips as you just hugged him harder, still holding in sobs failing miserably.

"Stop doing this please." He pleaded, pushing you gently to look at your face, which is tilted down on the concrete floor, your tears wetting it down.

"I want it to be done" is what went out It found a way to finally leak out of me. And for once, I could make you let out a smile

Your voice let out a sob, making him tilt your face upwards to look back at his gaze back

"How… How did you know about those cuts when there wasn't even any blood?…" he started to ask before pausing.

"... Why are you this?" He finally asked the question that has been engraved at the back of his mind ever since you left and haunts him, and every time he thinks about you, he still failed to do so not being able to hold it in made him anticipate to ask the question for you.

Laughing, a sad tone at your voice. You hiccup looking back at his teary face,

“I have a job to do yet I can't even lay a finger to hurt your already ruined skin,” you jokingly said to lift the dreary mood, yet you still flow out tears.

Nuzzling your red swollen face onto your already wet white sleeves, you try to mutter your voice again,

"Can I still request you like those times back then?" You questioned a pleading tone in your voice.

He nodded his head slowly. Clasping your arms tightly in fear of you being gone once again.

"Please live for me."

That one sentence, only that one sentence broke up the feelings he bottled for a long time.

This was the day of him to end it all but yet you said that.

His body shook uncontrollably, fresh liquid tears coming out of his already red eyes non-stop as he bit his lips with force to not let a sob come out of his throat.

Trying to mutter a sentence out of his throat, he spoke back once again,

“I'll try to…” he said as you just give him a comforting hug, patting your cold hands softly at his back,

“Remember this?” you ask pulling a used dirty white cloth out of your pocket,

Snickering slightly at the cloth, you stretch out slowly his hands putting the cloth in his palms.

“This was the cloth that I use to bandage your cuts from your wrist,” you said, longingly staring at it as memories come back to his mind.

You intertwined your hands in his holding a gentle grip. Feeling the coldness in your hands, his body flinches in surprise.

Just showing a smile at him you spoke up again

“Keep it alright?”

And as a gush of wind hits the two of you

Your presence and figure were gone.

And that was when he knew about the tingling feelings creeping up on his stomach every time you come to see him.

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hotwings0203 · 3 years

Text

I feel like Dabi would be the type of dude who would bully you incessantly at the LOV and for the life of you you can’t figure out why. He’s always around you and making snarky comments or pulling your hair, trying to catch you messing up on missions. You’re sure he hates you, and you do well to stay out of his way, or sometimes when you feel bold you’ll offer a quip of your own. The bullying increases whenever you talk to other guys at the bar, especially when you make Tomura crack a smile, Dabi’s breathing down your neck the second your leader leaves, calling you terrible names and pushing past your boundaries.

Cw: language, nsfw, noncon, manga spoilers, some angst?

In a perfect world, Touya would not have been abandoned and rejected by his family. In a perfect world, Dabi would not exist, and Touya would be eating dinner with his family right now as he shows his little brother how to properly wield fire to its fullest extent.

But there was no such thing as a perfect world, and therefore Dabi did exist. And Dabi doesn’t care for anyone, or anything.

Or so he tells himself.

“Slut”

“Nothing but eye candy, and shitty eye candy at that”

It’s nothing you haven’t heard before, but it doesn’t make it any easier to ignore him

“What was that all about, huh? The fuck are you and crusty snickering about?”

Fed up with his continuous antics, you decide to mouth off a little too.

“Oh nothing, just talking about how adorable you and Hawks would make as a couple. And wipe that sneer off your face, it looks like some of your staples fell out of your mouth.”

It’s nothing too snarky, but in a second he’s shoving you in some dark room, forearm pinned against your throat as his hand is lit up with blue flames merely inches away from you, snarling in your face.

“You wanna be funny, bitch? I got jokes of my own too, why dont I show you what happens to dumb little girls who don’t know their fucking place? I think that would be real funny.”

But his hand is stopped from drawing near your wide eyes when you both hear Twice and Toga calling everyone for their next meeting.

He pushes you away from him, giving you a murderous look over his shoulder as he leaves the room, not paying mind to the way you slide down the wall in the dark.

You take extra precaution to try avoiding him for the next few days, not even making eye contact with him when you two get teamed up for tasks. He never mentions the room incident, if anything he acts as if it never happens. It’s like whiplash for you, he tries to weirdly talk to you more but all you offer him is mumbles and hums of agreement.

The conversation is never long, but it starts to be less talk of degrading you and more of begrudging questioning of what you’ve been up to. You never engage, opting to pretend like you never heard him, and strangely enough he leaves it be.

You give him a side eye one day as he joins you at the bar (much to your discontent), downing your glass just to fill another.

He says nothing as he slides into the stool right next to you, and pours a glass of whiskey for himself as well.

It’s awkwardly silent, you’re not sure if you should leave or not, but you’d be damned if you try to initiate small talk with this psycho.

But then, he speaks.

“Is Shigaraki sending you on the mission to get that UA kid?”

His gravely voice rumbles and cracks from his usual lack of use, and he clears his throat after he talks.

“No.”

“Oh.”

This is excruciating, you think to yourself as he mulls over the drink in his hand for a silent minute or two.

Toga calls you over thankfully at the exact same moment, and you breathe out an inaudible sigh of relief as you slip off the stool to join her.

“Wait-“ Dabi grabs your arm and you flinch out of instinct, expecting a slap or a burn to come from him.

He sees your reaction and shakes his head dismissively, letting you go and muttering a “Nevermind”. You don’t ponder over it as you trip over your own feet to join the eccentric blond.

A week passes, and then two. With each day you maneuver your way around him, request to be partnered up with different people in private, and busy yourself in random tasks. Every time you pass him by the bar he lifts his head from whatever he’s doing and tries to maintain eye contact with you, even going so far as to open his mouth to say or ask god-knows-what.

You try to ignore the foreign hopeful glint in his glacial eyes as you walk right past him, ducking your head as you do so.

It drives Dabi crazy.

He can’t handle any more rejection, he thought his family would be the last straw for him to ever want recognition or love validation from again. He wants to talk to you, to hear your voice as it snaps back with witty comebacks of your own that he secretly enjoys so much, even if it means he has to force it out of you with hateful words. He wants to feel your hair underneath his scarred hands, even if he has to mask the soft wanting of you in forms of yanking the strands. He wants nothing more than to see your eyes fill up with no other sight than him and think only of him, even if it means he has to corner you and scare you into submission.

But your silence is something he’s not used to.

Well, to be fair, you weren’t silent completely, but the only sentences he was hearing from you nowadays was when you were speaking to Shigaraki or the other League members.

You were the only idiot who didn’t notice the smoke curling from his nostrils and ears comically when he’d finally see you stop your stoic act just to open up to other men apart from him. Spinner, Twice, and Compress backed off almost immediately from talking to you for too long when they’d see the look on his face as he watched you surrounded by them, but Tomura would merely smirk from behind your shoulders and keep a level gaze with his subordinate, knowing fully well why he was so pissed off.

You began to notice the weird energy at the base soon after the rest of the men would keep curt conversations with you in comparison to your long talks about video games, sex, and life after you would all win the war.

So you thought it would be best to ask the most semi-normal person there that wasn’t fueled with testosterone and aggression.

“I just don’t get it, why are they all being weird? I mean, we all used to talk so much and now they just...try avoiding me. Except for Tomura of course, he’s still normal I guess. But he always has this smirk on his face when I’m with him and I can’t figure out why.”

Toga stops cleaning her blood-laced needle to give you a sly look, all fangs and glinting white.

“And Dabi?”

“What about him?”

She sits back on her haunches and cocks her head at you. “You really don’t know what’s happening here, do ya?”

“No,” you roll your eyes in exasperation. “But I’ll gladly take any theories here, since apparently I’m the only one who doesn’t get it.”

“He likes you.”

You gape at her for a moment and then burst out laughing.

“What? That’s crazy, he doesn’t like me, he hates me!” He can barely stand being in a room with me, all he does is talk shit and harass me.”

The blond curiously licks at a bead of red from the top of the weapon and you cringe when her own tongue rips from the sharp point.

“You say he can’t stand being in a room with you, so then why is it that he’s always there? He might talk shit, but he talks to you out of everyone else right? Regardless of if it’s something mean.”

You’re thoroughly flabbergasted. She had a point, but it was too much to wrap your head around. She cheerfully hums and gets up to flounce around the room, cleaning her already-tidy room up to a T.

“And that little silent treatment act you’re giving him isn’t helping either. I swear, Jin told me Dabi almost burned his mouth off that one day you, him and Spinner were talking about GTA. He totally cornered the poor guy and threatened his life if he didn’t stop talking to you.”

“You’re joking.”

“Am not. He wanted to do the same to Tomura but I figure he wants to keep his job, so he won’t. Doesnt make it any better for him when you’re all chummy with the one person Dabi can’t stand the most, though.”

No wonder your leader was so smug whenever you two were in the same room, your attention solely focused on him.

You run your hands down your face, moaning about the whole situation being fucked. It’s just your luck that you couldn’t take a clue, but to be fair, how could you? Being called worthless and a waste of space wasn’t exactly what you had in mind for flirty banter.

“Soooo what’re you gonna do now? I heard he’s gonna try talking to you for realsies like, tomorrow or something.”

“Tomorrow?” You yelp, jumping up to your feet. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner? I can’t face him!”

“Oops,” she giggles, twirling with outstretched arms around her room and falling down onto her bed.

“Oh god, I can’t do this. I don’t even know if I like him! He’s such an ass, and even when he tries to come off as normal he’s just so..unsettling. I don’t think I’ve ever had a good conversation with him.”

Toga props her elbow up to rest her chin on her hand, frowning in thought.

“Why not just tell him how you feel?”

You snort and fold your arms. “Yeah, because the psycho arsonist is really gonna take the word no well.”

“Hmm.. I see what you mean. Oh well, whatever you choose, I’ll support you!”

And with that she skips out of the room sing songing for Twice to make a clone for her.

You were fucked.

And sure enough, the next day he approaches you, hands stuffed in his pockets and an almost bored look on his face.

“Yo newbie, I gotta talk to you for a second. Come with me”.

You look blearily up at him through eye bags and mussed hair, a direct telling of your sleepless night. Your stomach drops when you hear his words, but you nod your head and take a deep breath, mentally preparing yourself of the speech you practiced till the sun rose.

No one else is bothering you both today, Shigaraki having gone to visit All For One and the rest of the League left to their own devices. It was something you weren’t so comfortable with, but you doubted a hero would come to save you.

He leads you through the short winding hallways, each step of his growing louder and heavier as the space started growing smaller. Finally, he reaches a dimly lit room and stops outside the door, gesturing for you to go in with a casual wave of his patched wrist.

“After you.”

You raise an unsure eyebrow at his uncharacteristic show of consideration, and do as he says. You’re sweating bullets, fists balled so that your nails are digging into your palms, and vision going in and out of focus as your eyes begin to adjust to your surroundings.

A loud bang pulls you out of your stupor, and you whip around at the sound.

Dabi is already staring back at you with lidded eyes, leaning his weight against the door, his arms crossing over each other.

You shift on both feet, picking at your nails nervously.

“So, what did you wanna talk about?”

He says nothing, but just observes you, his head slightly tilted as if you were some abstract art piece.

“Dabi.”

“You got a lot of nerve, y’know that?”

He pushes himself off the wall and advances slowly towards you, hands stuffed in his trench coat pockets.

You immediately back up with raised palms, sputtering indignantly at his offensive movements coming closer and closer. However you thought his ‘confession’ would go, this was most definitely not starting out like how you planned

“Excuse me? What’re you talking about-“

“I know what you’re doing. You think whoring yourself out to ol’ crusty and the rest of the guys here is gonna make everyone forget just how useless you actually are. What the fuck do you even do here? You fuck up half the missions which I have to come bail your ass out of, you constantly put us in jeopardy by being all friendly with everyone, and you can’t even keep your mouth shut when I need to let off a little steam, as I rightfully should.”

In a perfect world, Dabi would be the light of your eyes, the hero of your world. In a perfect world, Dabi would be able to hold your hand in his smooth one and tell you that he wants you so much that it impairs his rational judgement and makes him say things he doesn’t mean. He’d tell you that your presence is like a weight lifted off his chest, your presence means he doesn’t have to think or worry about the outside world, he just wants you all to himself without anyone interfering.

But this is not a perfect world, and Dabi is not a hero, but rather one of the worst villains.

So he does exactly what one does as a villain.

Instead of a loving look that he knows he’s incapable of, Dabi looks down into your horrified gaze as he traps you against the wall between his scarred arms, spewing misplaced venom at you.

“I don’t know what your problem is, but you need to chill out. First you go ballistic on me ‘cause I talked to Tomura for no reason, then you act all weird and quiet as if you’re some decent person, and now you think you can just bring me in here and tell me how worthless I am? Go fuck yourself, seriously.”

You scoff and make your way to push him but stop when he does what he did a couple weeks ago. You hold bated breath as he casually brings an inflamed hand to scratch at his face as if he can’t feel the hellfire emitting from it, and let out a whine of distress as he lowers his head mere inches from yours, lips almost touching.

“Stop talking to the rest of the guys,” he breaths. “Stop smiling, laughing, or going near anyone who isn’t me.”

You wonder if he knows how insane he sounds. He does, but that’s nothing he doesn’t know already. If anything, it solidifies in his mind that if he is to be as bad as the world has made him out to be, then he is acting exactly fit for the role.

“Why?”

“I don’t need to give sluts like you a reason. It should come as easy, right? What’s putting out for one more person?”

Your eyes are brimming with tears now, your stoic facade showing cracks as you sniffle a little bit.

He eats it up and groans watching salty rivers cascade down your cheeks. Suddenly, he feels as though he can no longer hold back anymore, he feels as though if he thinks for one more second he’ll combust.

So, acting on instinct, he surges forward and presses his lips against yours, swallowing your cries of distress and holding your hands above your head in midst of them frantically beating on his chest.

Your lips are so, so soft compared to his and it’s making him sink deeper into this instinctual daze. He puffs against your writhing lips as he thrusts his hot tongue in your mouth.

You try to bite him but when his hands heat up against your skin you resign to your fate and wail, allowing him to pull his hips flush against yours and start humping your thighs.

He draws back and bites your lips, teeth clacking against yours as he does so. You open your terrified eyes and blanch when you see the look on his face.

Lust is clearly drawn everywhere, from his blown pupils to his heaving chest, all the way to his flushed face and wild eyes. He looks as though he’s about to eat you alive and it’s appropriate that you feel like a lamb about to be slaughtered.

“Dabi, wait, please stop-“

But he cuts your pants off again in favor of slamming his hips against yours again and grinding impossibly hard on your legs, the friction of his jeans catching on your clothed cunt and forcing a mewl out of you.

“I’m not gonna stop. I’ve had enough of you teasing. You’re mine now, and if it takes burning our dear leader alive and this whole place down for you to understand that then I’ll fucking do it.”

He thought that terrorizing you would ease the empty feeling in his heart, that continuously berating you would force him to see you as what he always said you were, just another empty headed cunt. He thought that distancing himself from you and focusing on other things would make him forget about the soft feelings he longed to share with you, feelings he thought perished in the fire he was in when he was a young boy .

Even now, there is an ache in his chest as he hears you beg for him to stop, to let you go, that you’re sorry for whatever you did.

But this is not a perfect world, and not everyone gets their way in life.

You should really learn that, because Dabi already has.

And so Dabi will act accordingly to what life has put out before him .

#dabi imagine #yandere dabi x reader #dabi smut #bnha imagines #bnha smut #mha smut #yandere dabi #tw: noncon #touya #bnha touya #touya todoroki #Dabi #dabi x reader

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solarwriting · 3 years

Text

guns and gifts

carl gallagher x fem!reader

request: Hey! I hope I can send you a request for Karl Gallagher of Shameless. Maybe Karl and y / n were a couple before jail, and after leaving jail he came to her to ask her for forgiveness. y / n doesn't forgive him and he starts giving her gifts and apologizing every day. Then everything is at your discretion. Happy ending please💛 from @powerpuffluuvv

genere: fluff + angst

word count: 2.1k

warnings: swearing, ooc carl

posted on april 18, 2021

puppy love. thirteen year-olds holding hands and sharing stolen kisses. it was a sweet relationship that could’ve grown and matured with the two teens as they did. instead carl found himself a job on the corner and when he got caught y/n was done. fiona tried to get through to the boy, asking him to apologize but he brushed her off.

“can i please just talk to him? maybe he’ll listen to me.” y/n pleaded with the lawyer.

fiona stepped in, “it wouldn’t hurt to try it.”

“five minutes.” the lawyer relented.

y/n thanked him and rushed into the room where he sat. he squinted at her through the glasses fiona gave him. “i’m not fuckin’ sorry. i wish i was smarter about it. i wouldn’t have used chuckie as a mule.”

“you know what. if you don’t tell that judge you’re fucking sorry and that you’ve learned from your mistakes i will never speak to you again.” y/n exited the room quickly letting the ultimatum hang in the air as the door slammed behind her.

during the hearing her eyes were trained on the back of his head, hoping she could somehow will him to do the right thing. she kept her arms crossed as she leaned back. kev and v were sat next to her, waiting anxiously to see what he’d say.

“i’m going to make juvie my bitch.” as soon as he said those words, y/n sighed, getting up from her seat, shouldering her back and slipping out of the courtroom as they hauled carl away. he caught her eye before she left, she froze for a moment before shaking her head and making her exit.

time passed and she still spent time with the rest of the gallaghers, she lived across the street so it would have been hard not too. she helped take care of liam when needed and she got a job at patsy’s with fiona’s help.

the day carl came back had been a surprise for everyone, y/n was helping fiona with making dinner after a shift at patsy’s. the front door had slammed shut and, thinking it was debbie, fiona asked if she got a message about hamburger buns. y/n’s eyes shot up when a much deeper voice responded, “nah, it’s just me.”

excited, fiona rushed towards the boy, wrapping him up in a hug. hugging back, he looked up throwing a wave to y/n who was rooted in place, “hey, y/n.”

snapping herself back into reality she lurched forward wiping her hands and grabbing her things, pulling her bag over her shoulder and gripping her keys tightly she looked back at the boy as fiona fussed over his new appearance. “fuck you, carl.” she spat, slamming the back door shut behind her.

y/n managed to avoid carl at school the next day, he was too busy with “his boy” nick and his new white boy carl personality and selling illegal weapons in the bathrooms to bother her anyways. she rushed to patsy’s as soon as school ended and began her shift.

she spent the afternoon rushing from table to table, taking orders, passing out food, and pouring coffee. she was pouring coffee for a couple sitting near the front door when the bell twinkled, signaling a new customer.

her back turned to the door and her focus pointed and the coffee she was pouring she greeted the customer quickly, “take a seat anywhere and i’ll be right with you darling.” she smiled at the couple before turning around, finding herself face to face with white boy carl himself. “get the fuck out.”

y/n rushed away from him, pouring coffee for a man sat at the counter. carl followed, “please just talk to me, y/n.”

“she doesn’t want to talk to you, man.” the customer spoke up as y/n placed the coffee pot on the burner.

“what the fuck did you just say to me?” carl asked the man.

he stood up, “i told you she doesn’t want to talk. so leave.”

y/n stepped in before a physical altercation broke out, “thank so much, sir, but i can fight my own battles.” she pushed carl towards the door, “out.” she kept pushing him despite his protests, “get the fuck out. go.”

the door slammed behind them, and carl began to speak, “no, you’re going to shut your fucking mouth and listen. i don’t want to listen to you. i don’t want to talk to you. and i don’t even want to see you but that last one might be a little fucking impossible since we’re neighbors and i work with your sister so i’m going to be civil towards you but i will only acknowledge your existence when it is absolutely necessary. clear?”

carl began to protest but y/n cut him off, “are we fucking clear?” carl grumbled an agreement and y/n sighed, “good, now get the fuck out if here. i have to go back to work.”

y/n rushed back into the diner, throwing herself back into work. hoping she looked busy enough to keep the nosy man from before to leave her alone, she poured more coffee, took orders, passed out plates. until her shift ended and she could finally take the l back home.

the next run in with carl happened two days later, she was walking home from school, thankful for the day off from work when carl and nick pulled up on a bike. “y/n! wait!”

sighing, y/n whipped around, “i thought i told you i didn’t want to talk to you.”

“i have something for you.” carl explained as he got closer, y/n ignored him and started walking again, the bike quickly catching up with her. “here.”

y/n scoffed, eyeing the bag, “whatever it is i don’t want it.”

“it’s a book, debbie told me you wanted to read it.”

y/n sped up, “no thanks, already read it.” she didn’t care what book it was, she didn’t want anything from him. she took this moment to cross the street, the passing cars making it difficult for the boys on the bike to follow.

she entered the gallagher house hoping carl would be too busy to come home for a few hours while she watched liam. “i get off at nine, if anyone else comes home you’re welcome to leave but i plan on bringing something back for dinner if you want to stick around for that.”

“of course i’ll stay. me and liam are going to have a great time. isn’t that right liam?” y/n asked the toddler who nodded enthusiastically. fiona thanked her and rushed out the door.

y/n put on a movie, which liam fell asleep watching about thirty minutes in. y/n got up and stretched when the movie ended, adjusting the blanket she threw over liam when he fell asleep. she walked in the kitchen, stiff from sitting for so long. she pulled out a can of pop from the fridge and leaned her back against the fridge, using to stretch her body more.

the door swung open and carl walked in, “good you’re hear, i have something else for you.”

“whatever it is, i don’t want it.” y/n sighed into her drink.

“it’s a necklace, here.” he opened the velvet box to show her an expensive looking necklace.

she turned away from him, “no thanks.” walking back into the living room. “go somewhere else please, i have to watch liam.”

carl sighed before exiting the house with nick, who had been hanging back by the door during the exchange. he nodded to nick and the two rolled out to go do god knows what.

that night fiona came home with food, the entire gallagher clan plus kev and v enjoyed. there were enough people that y/n managed to avoid speaking to carl the entire evening. every time he tried to speak to her she’d find someone to talk to, she talked lip about something she had to do for school, ian told her about trevor, and her and debbie talked about anything.

v even pointed out the strange behavior when carl was left looking slightly dejected to fiona, who just shrugged in response.

“thank you fiona, goodnight everyone.” y/n called as she stepped out the back door. she crossed the street quickly and made it home, which as usual was empty, the rest of her family nowhere to be found.

she sighed, grabbing a beer from the fridge and kicking of her shoes as soon as she made it to her room. she threw herself back on her bed yelping when she collided with something hard. she jumped up only to see the jewelry box and book carl had bought her. she set her beer down and pulled the box open, smiling at the necklace. it was gold, with a small tear shaped pendant that held some sort of crystal or diamond.

she set the box next to her beer, which she grabbed and took sip of as she grabbed the book. it was actually something she’d been wanting, she rolled her eyes before opening it to the first page.

the next fee days followed a similar pattern, carl would stop her at school and work and even his own house to offer her gifts, which she would refuse, which would always end up on her bed at the end of the day. on a particularly rough day, y/n had enough. she was walking home from school, carl (who was alone this time) behind her, like clockwork offering another gift.

“carl, please just leave me alone. i don’t have the energy to deal with you.” y/n said not stopping. carl made a comment and y/n snapped, “god i’m not going to forgive you because you chose to go to juvie. you could have just apologized and gotten parole but that didn’t happen. and i’m not going to be your girlfriend again because i don’t even know who you are any more, this thug personality doesn’t look good on you.” y/n sighed rushing away before he could answer.

she was suddenly thankful for the day off, deciding to spend it all alone at home. it was a friday and her weekend was also free so she spent the next few days home alone. her family was gone of course, they only only seemed to show up once a month just to leave again the same day.

sunday evening y/n laid in the couch watching what was on tv when there was a knock on the door. y/n groaned, getting up to answer it freezing when carl was revealed on the other side. he looked small, he was curled into himself and he looked sad. his braids were out, soft curls in the place. “hey, y/n.” he said softly. y/n wordlessly moved out of the way to let him in.

“i’m done. no more sell drugs, guns, anything. something happened, with nick and i don’t want that to be my life anymore.” his voice cracked and y/n instinctively wrapped him into a hug, squeezing protectively. he cried into her shoulder, holding her tightly, scared to let her go.

“hey,” y/n spoke softly, running her fingers through his hair, “you’re okay. i got you.” once carl calmed down, he pulled away but y/n held onto him, hands on his face.

“i really miss you y/n. and i know i was awful before but all i want to do is be with you. i love you.” he sighed, his hands holding her wrists.

y/n pulled him closer, “i love you, too, idiot.” carl gave her a lopsided smiled before surging forward to connect their lips in a hot kiss. y/n stumbled backwards before backing into the wall behind her. carl bit on her lip softly causing her breath to catch in her throat. she tugged on his hair and he squeezed her hips. she pulled away for breath, pressing her forehead to his, “my room?” breathless carl nodded pressing a quick kiss to her lips before they rushed to her room.

the next morning the front door slammed opened, “y/n! i’m going to kill fiona!” debbie stormed through the house bursting into y/n’s room where she was laying next to a topless carl, wearing only his t-shirt, “oh my god! ew!” debbie shielded her eyes from the sight before her.

“hey, debs.” y/n mumbled, sheepishly.

debbie groaned, “just get dressed, we have school.”

#carl gallagher imagine #carl gallagher #shameless x reader #shameless fanfiction #shameless imagine #shameless #lip gallagher #fiona gallagher #debbie gallagher #ian gallagher #kev ball #veronica ball #veronica fisher #2k words

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