#I have another angst drawing in the works but we desperately needed fluff | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

eightmakesonebraincell · 6 months

Text

ateez as royals who fall for you (maknae line)

read hyung line here

genre: royalty!ateez x fem!reader, fluff, angst, smut, crack, a brainrot and smutfest of royal tropes

length: 11.3k

c/w: very nsfw scenes - mdni, explicit language (dirty talk, swearing, insults), death, violence, blood & injuries, weapons, heavy & mature themes (sex work, murder, assassination, execution, mentions of misogyny)

a/n: as much as writing royals was tricky, it's kind of 🤢 sad 🤢 to see this au end. that being said nobody ask me for a pt 2 pls i need to recover from the trauma LMAOO and as always, huge thank you to the queen of royal au's herself @sorryimananti-romantic for helping me finish the fic and for teaching me how to make moodboards using something that is *not* word doc :')

san

pov: you're forbidden lovers

“shh,” san hushes you with a teasing curl of his fingers that are buried inside you. “wouldn’t want everyone outside to know what a dirty little slut the princess is, do you?”

his other hand covers your mouth, stifling the breathy moans and desperate whines that escape your lips as you sit in between his legs, naked and pressed back to lean against his chest

there is the sound of water splashing over the edge of the bathtub when san hooks his feet around your inner ankles so that he can spread your legs wider for him

he presses the palm of his hand harshly against your clit and your back arches with a muffled worship of his name

“or maybe you like that,” he teases “you like the idea of people knowing how good i make you feel with my fingers”

san removes his hand from your mouth and lowers it to pinch your nipple, smirking against your neck as you babble incoherently

he coos as he adds yet another finger into you, “imagine that, everyone knows you as the princess who loves being fucked dumb. and by one of her servants, no less”

all caution is thrown to wind and you drop your head back to lean against his shoulder, mouth lolling open with unrestrained pleads for more, more, faster as he angles his fingers to hit that sweet spot inside of you

“cum, princess” he demands

you grip bruises onto san’s thighs and arms when the pace of his fingers doesn’t relent even after your orgasm has washed over you

his arms tighten around you as his thighs flex to keep you still in his hold

you let out a choked sob from the overstimulation, teetering between pain and pleasure

“give me one more, i know you can do it,” he coaxes

the hand that has been fondling your breasts snakes down to rub your clit

with his fingers knuckle-deep inside of your pussy and his other hand playing relentlessly with your sensitive clit, the scale tips over and your vision blurs as another wave of pleasure hits you, more intense than the first one

“princess?” and then a knock. “are you okay?”

san slowly draws out the remainder of your orgasm with lazy thrusts of his finger into you

you just know he’s enjoying himself when you have to hide the shakiness in your voice to answer back to your maid outside, “everything’s fine. i’ll be done soon”

“soon?” san smirks, lifting you up by the waist to align your folds with his swollen cock. “then we better make this quick”

because you and san do not have the luxury of time, much less the luxury of love

he isn’t just another one of the numerous servants who serve you

he is everything to you despite how taboo it is for a princess and servant to love each other

his insignificance within the palace makes it much easier for him to slip away; for nobody to take notice

but at the same time, his insignificance is the whole reason why you two must be secretive in the first place

you make sure san has safely snuck out of the bathroom before you finally exit the bathtub and stand on unsteady legs

you allow your maids to come in and help you into the elaborate attire you are to wear for the afternoon

your parents have informed you that you are going to have visitors, thus requiring you to look your best

without much time left until the appointed meeting due to your…escapade, you make your way to the great hall, catching a glimpse of san’s dimpled smile from amongst the other body servants and waiting staff in the room

you have only just settled into your seat next to the king and queen when the guard outside the doors announces the arrival of your guests - the monarchs from the neodonian kingdom

schooling your expression to one of neutrality, you watch as they enter

and then you realise it isn’t just the neodonian king and queen who have come to visit

but the prince as well

he is undeniably handsome and pleasing to the eye with his sleekly gelled hair, chiseled features and tall, sturdy build

the young prince catches you looking at him and breaks out into a friendly smile and-

he has dimples too

the king garners everyone’s attention with a clear of his throat, before he welcomes the monarchs

prince jaehyun, you learn his name is

“after much discussion between ourselves and king jeong and queen jeong, we are pleased to announce our desire for closer relations between our kingdoms,” your father starts, booming voice resounding within the hall

you can’t stop yourself from looking over at him as he speaks with purpose, a strange niggling feeling starting to twist your stomach

the tight smile that your mother passes you from your father’s other side does little to settle your nerves

“as such,” the king continues, “we shall look forward to the engagement between my daughter and prince jaehyun”

there is a roaring sound in your ears, as if you have been pushed to stand under a raging waterfall

engagement

the engagement

you

prince jaehyun

the engagement between you and prince jaehyun

it takes everything in your body not to bolt up from your seat

your hands grip the armrests of your seat with a grasp so tight you are certain you will leave a permanent imprint of your agony

instead, you look around frantically for the one person your instincts are screaming for

where is san?

you are afraid to see how much this is going to hurt him

you are desperate to tell him that you had no idea about this

you are aching to press confessions of love and reassurance against his lips

but just like the insignificance of his status, san is nowhere to be seen

over the two years that you and san have been in your secret relationship, he has gained extensive knowledge of which particular tasks allow him a greater chance of seeing you, which corridors reach you the quickest, and which times during your schedule you have a break

never would you have thought he would use this knowledge to avoid you

it continues like that for the weeks following the announcement

you have no choice but to spend time with your future fiance when your father tells you very clearly to “ensure the prince feels at home”

prince jaehyun is warm and you find yourself getting along with him like you two are friends, but that is it - there are no sparks brighter than friendship

when you spend time with him, you cannot help but compare him to san; san would’ve said this, san would’ve done that, san, san, san

jaehyun engages you in conversation, easily filling in the gaps and lulls with little comments here and there, equipped with a charming laugh and deep dimples

but it only reminds you of san’s dimples and crescent eyes when you two would race through corridors, fingers tightly interwoven as you both run away to a secluded area with hushed giggles

jaehyun points out that neither of you like mushrooms during a dinner and helps nudge the servings on both of your plates to one side

the smile as you say “thank you” does not fully grace your lips because you think about san, who boasts that he will eat all the mushrooms in the world so that you never have to lay eyes on one ever again

jaehyun offers a soft yet sturdy hand to help you down the stairs or when he notices you are walking in heels across an uneven surface

your body recalls san’s rough, calloused hands that leave a trail of goosebumps wherever they touch your bare skin as he worships your body all night long

jaehyun is handsome and he is kind, but he is not san

the night before the king officially announces your engagement with prince jaehyun arrives

and still, you have not had a moment alone with san since he disappeared during that first announcement in the great hall

hurt and longing consume you to the very core

some days it is manageable, a concealed yet incessant thought, like a sticker stuck to the sole of your shoe

other days it wraps around your soul completely like a constrictor tightening as it slowly squeezes the life out of its prey

but you know that you cannot be selfish

what you feel, san feels with an intensity multiplied several times

after all, you are not the one who must stand in the shadows as the love of your life becomes engaged to somebody else, powerless to do anything but watch and poison your own smile with lies

you are lying on your bed when a quick, sharp knock sounds on your bedroom doors

you make no move to acknowledge your visitor, having told your maids very clearly you did not want to be disturbed tonight

your last night as yourself before you become prince jaehyun’s fiance

but then the knocks come a little more urgent, a little more frantic, just like your heartbeat does as it starts to speed up in anticipation

you hold your breath as you hurry to pull open the doors-

and there he is

“san-”

he swallows the rest of your words in a desperate kiss, his hands coming up to cradle your jaw as he walks you backwards so that he can step into your room

he tilts your head and slots his lips against yours again while he nudges your door closed with his foot

it isn’t until you let out a whine as his tongue swipes over your bottom lip that he pulls back to finally look at you, both of his thumbs caressing your cheekbones

you grip the front of his linen shirt, afraid that he will disappear as soon as you let go

“san, i- i had no idea, i didn’t agree to any of this”

he shushes you gently, a painful smile adorning his handsome face

“i know. i know, so please don’t cry, love,” he murmurs softly

you don’t even realise the weeks of suppressed emotions have started making their way down your face in salty trails until san uses the back of his fingers to tenderly brush them away

“i’m getting engaged tomorrow, san,” your voice breaks as reality settles in

you are so afraid

you are so lost

above all, you are so in love with san

“i know,” he reassures again, “but until tomorrow, you are still mine”

and so you spend your last night together

time has always been precious; conversations, kisses and touches rushed and with fervour

but tonight, san takes his time with you

he lays on your bed with you cradled on top of him, limbs tangled together as he savours the taste of your lips against his

he turns you onto your back as he slowly undresses you, leaving tattoos of his love each time he bares another part of your body

he pleasures you with his fingers whilst whispering into your ears, creating a harmony with his praises and the melodious moans that leave your lips

and as he brings you both to your highs numerous times throughout the night like an ingrained dance routine, it is accompanied with confessions of i love you

san holds you against his chest under your blankets so tightly that you cannot tell where your body ends and his body starts

before you drift off, safe and protected in his arms, he murmurs against your temple, “no matter what happens tomorrow, no matter what happens in the future, my heart will always be yours”

“as will mine”

you wake up the next morning to an empty bed and an equally empty heart

restless and drowning in a mix of emotions, you pace the empty corridors of the guest bedchambers

which is where jaehyun finds you as he exits his room

he is surprised but is quick to greet you kindly, “good morning, princess. what are you doing here?”

you pause mid-step

what are you doing?

“prince jaehyun,” you let the words come out of you before you can regret them. “can we talk for a moment?”

he nods, entering his room again as he pulls the door open wider for you to follow

jaehyun closes the door and then offers you a seat on his sofa, before pulling up his own chair and settling a respectful distance away from you

“i hope you don’t feel uncomfortable in my room,” he explains, “i thought that we would be less likely to be disturbed in here…considering most people know of our engagement today”

“actually, i wanted to talk to you about that”

“go on,” he encourages you with a dimpled smile

you take a deep breath

“i’m sorry,” you blurt out

and then you are admitting to the prince that he is lovely and charming and caring, but you just don’t see it working out with him

you don’t want to get engaged with him

because your heart already belongs to somebody else

“good”

“i’m so sorry, i should have been honest with you from the start but- wait, what?” you look up from where you have been nervously picking at your cuticles

jaehyun is smiling at you - a genuine smile that you did not know he had

“i’m actually relieved to hear that, princess,” he admits. “because i…also have someone that i love back home”

and for the first time, you and jaehyun truly see each other in the same light

“who is it?” he asks

“his name is san,” and then you add on, “he has dimples just like you do”

you ask him the same question

you see the way jaehyun’s expression softens with love from just the mere thought of the other

it makes you wonder whether you have the same look on your face when you mention san

jaehyun jokes, “want to be the one who tells your father we’re calling off the engagement? i don’t fancy getting executed today”

but despite what he says, mere hours later, when you are both standing in the great hall before your parents - the kings and queens of both your kingdoms - he is the one to speak up

“your majesty, we have decided to part ways peacefully and would not like to proceed with the engagement. our kingdom will always be your ally, regardless of marital relations or not”

“what?” you see veins starting to appear across the king’s forehead as he tries to maintain his temper, but the queen and the jeong monarchs seem to be taking the news much better

disappointed, perhaps, but understanding

the queen leans closer to remind the king that they had all agreed to this engagement on the terms that the decision would ultimately be yours and jaehyun’s

you suddenly speak up because this may be the only time you have the courage to

“i have one more thing to say,” you declare. “i revoke my noble status and thus declare nullified all the privileges, rules and traditions that come with nobility. i have someone i love and i wish to marry them as myself, not as the kingdom’s princess”

the king roars furiously, “that is enough! leave!” and he slams his hand against the throne’s armrest

shocked and betrayed by your father’s reaction, you rush out of the great hall with tears welling in your eyes

only to run straight into the waiting arms of san

“oh, princess,” he murmurs against the crown of your head as he engulfs you in his embrace

he doesn’t have to say anything for you to realise that he has heard the whole conversation

but you do not care about anything anymore

you are where you want to be, held by who you want to be with

“how are you here?” you sniffle

“jaehyun approached me earlier. i thought i was going to get beat up,” san’s attempt to make you smile is successful

when you lift your head up to look at him, you realise his eyes are wet as well

then you feel his body stiffen as his eyes shift to focus on something behind you

someone

he immediately steps away from you, bowing deeply as he greets the queen

you turn around to see her face adorning an endearing smile

“it’s fine, sannie,” she says, and you are not sure whether you and san are more surprised by the fact that she knows him by name or by the affectionate nickname she has used

“i’ll, uh, leave you two to talk,” he flusters

she thanks him with a teasing remark, “i won’t keep her away from you for very long”

san waits further down the corridor, back turned to give you two a moment of privacy

and then she is stroking your hair affectionately

“i am so proud of you. you’ve grown up so well and you are so brave,” she says

you don’t understand

you ask, “why aren’t you angry?”

“oh, baby,” she fondly runs her fingers through your hair, just like she used to when you were younger. “before my duties as the queen to my people, i am the mother to my daughter. i love you and all i want is for you to be happy”

your lips tremble with emotion as your mother pulls you into a hug

“does sannie make you happy, dear?”

you nod, “the happiest”

“then that is all i want. now go,” she takes a hold of your shoulders and gently turns you in the direction of san. “i’ll talk to your father”

with one last encouraging squeeze, you race down the corridor towards san

he hears your footsteps and has already turned around with open arms waiting to catch you

you hear him let out an oomph! with how hard you throw yourself into him, but he is then swaying your bodies side to side

san pulls back slightly with an incredulous look. “does this mean we can be together? together together?”

“i goddamn hope so because i gave up my princess privileges for you. no more carriages, no more assorted sweet delicacies, no more daily massages-” you fold down your fingers as you continue listing things off

he cuts you off with a tickle to your sides as he says, “that’s easy to sort out”

“first, you’ll still be my princess,” he unfurls one of your fingers so it stands upright again

“second, i’ll carry you myself so that you never need to use your feet again,” he unfurls another finger

“i’ll give you a treat whenever you want,” he kisses your lips, nibbling on your bottom lip with a teasing tug

“and, dear princess,” he pulls you flush against his body and you have to steady yourself on his chest to avoid tripping over, “i can give you hourly massages…”

smirking, he starts to lower his head to suck pretty marks onto your neck as he whispers in a low voice, “...if you can keep up”

mingi

pov: you're the prince's maid

for what you are about to do, you could very well be executed should somebody catch you

but desperate times call for desperate measures

and there’s no guarantee that you and all the other staff will not be executed anyway…

not with what has just happened in the palace

you push the door closed behind you with a soft click, using the brief changeover of guards to slip inside the bedroom of the youngest prince, unnoticed

you call out softly but urgently, “prince mingi”

when you hear him groggily murmur, starting to bubble towards the surface of consciousness, you dare to give his shoulder a rough shake

“prince mingi, please wake up”

his eyes flutter open, confusion starting to clear the fogginess in his head as he struggles to comprehend the sight of your face hovering inches from his, deep into the hours of the night

“w-what’s going on?” he clears his husky voice, “are you okay?”

you wish you could reach out and smooth the wrinkles of concern from his forehead

reassure him that everything will be okay until he falls back asleep

but there is no time

“the crown prince is dead and we must leave. now.”

the effect is immediate, like you have just driven a knife into his chest

although you suppose it must not feel very different for prince mingi right now

“the crown prince is d-” the word tastes vile on his tongue, so he asks after his second oldest brother instead. “what about prince eun?”

you must drive the knife into him once more

“he was the one who murdered the crown prince, but he has framed you for the murder. there is no time, prince mingi, we must leave now”

“the court will find me innocent,” yet he lets you tug him out of his bed

you hastily help prince mingi into a dark brown robe while you shake your head, “not when your inscribed sword is currently covered in the crown prince’s blood. we do not know who is secretly working for prince eun. until we know for sure, we do not stand a chance of clearing your name”

he knows that you’re right, even if his heart is hoping that you are wrong

the prince slides his hand into the gap between his bed and wall, pulling out a spare sword and wrapping the belt around his waist

eyes sweeping across his chamber one final time, he locks eyes with you grimly before turning to flee

you follow the prince through a back passageway - it’s not entirely a secret and it won’t be long before the royal guards come for the prince, discover his empty bedroom and give chase

but it is long enough to give you two a head start

he helps you up onto the back of his personal horse before he swings himself up easily onto the saddle behind you

with a nudge of his feet, the prince sends the horse into a gallop

you startle with a yelp, having never ridden a horse before, much less one at this pace

prince mingi presses himself a little closer to you and slots his chest against your back as he leans forward to guide your hands to hold the reins with his

“here,” he murmurs, “just follow me”

he shifts one hand to settle on your waist, guiding your body into a comfortable rhythm that dances in sync with the horse’s movements and his own

when he’s sure you’ve gotten the hang of it, the prince places his hand back on the reins, yet he stays close, keeping you safely encased within his arms to prevent you from falling off

you’re not sure how long you two ride for

but at some point the prince slows the horse to a canter

with the slower sway of the steed, the steady clack of hooves against the forest floor, and the warmth of the prince around you, you drift off to his whispered, “sleep, i’ve got you”

you wake up to find yourself on a scratchy pile of leaves

the events of last night piece themselves together when you spot prince mingi, still adorning his deep blue silk pajamas, leaning against a tree a few feet away

it would have been a sight to see if not for the fact that-

“what are we going to do now?” you sit up, and the prince’s robe, you now register, falls from around your body

the prince gives you a warm smile as you rub the sleep from your eyes with fisted hands

“we’ll head into halsburg. the town is small enough the news should not have traveled that far yet. we’ll replenish some supplies and go from there”

it’s unspoken

the fact that there is no solid plan from there

even if the two of you have managed to escape the royal guards, for how long can you two run?

plus, it will be impossibly difficult to find evidence while on the run, when the answers are within the castle walls themselves

but you push those thoughts aside as you two enter halsburg, the prince’s hood pulled up over his face

you do the bulk of the purchases, less likely to be recognised by the townspeople

it’s mainly food and water for yourself, the prince, and his horse, and a simple tunic to replace his royal pajamas - something you have been teasing him about since you woke up

later that night, hours away from the outskirts of halsburg, you two settle for a couple hours of rest

a small fire crackles away to the song of the cicadas, an occasional pop as the licks of flames cast shadows across your faces

you glance at the prince sitting across from you, who is idly fiddling with his pajama top

specifically, the royal crest of the song family embroidered onto its front pocket

your heart clenches painfully, knowing the death of a family member is hard enough to process without the additional weight of being framed for murder, much less by your own brother who is the real culprit

“prince mingi…” you start, voice low

he glances up at you, eyes softening as he curves his lips up into a small smile, “i’m okay.”

you hesitate for a split second before letting the clench in your gut pull you to your feet, and you shuffle to settle back down in front of the fire, except this time beside the prince

all the while his eyes never leave you, not even when you nudge his shoulder softly and say,

“you don’t have to be strong. not in front of me…”

and he knows

because despite the differences in your social statuses, you are the person he trusts the most

you, the girl who used to trip over the lengths of his robes that you carried, now a woman who holds herself righteously and bravely

you, who chose to risk your own life from the moment you woke him up in his chambers

you, who is still risking your life to flee with him

“only if you stop calling me prince,” he jokingly nudges you back, attempting to make the atmosphere lighter despite the wetness that is starting to paint his eyes. “with you, i am just mingi”

“okay, prince mingi,” you tease

yet, you still extend a hand out to him, palm upturned in a silent invitation for comfort should he wish to seek it, because you can tell that he isn’t quite ready to seek it verbally

mingi laces his larger fingers through yours, tucking your interlocked hands closer to his body as he draws his knees up so that he can rest his chin upon them

mingi thinks that he feels numb more than anything, but he finds he isn’t as surprised as one would expect him to be

perhaps he always knew of his middle brother’s thirst for the throne

he just never thought it would be enough to spill blood

for now though, he lets himself be distracted by your thumb tracing mindless patterns against his knuckles

he lets himself relish in the heat radiating from your side that seems to warm him from inside out, even as the embers of the fire slowly lose their glow and die out with the darkening night

the days start to repeat themselves

you two cover as much distance as you can while sparing what time you can afford for yourselves and mingi’s horse to rest

mingi has decided to travel to prince yunho's kingdom, an old and trusted ally who may be able to provide you two with protection while he pulls strings to fight back against prince eun

from his calculations, the journey will take at least another two weeks

and although mingi doesn’t tell you this, deep down he does not know whether you two have two weeks left

the threat of the royal guards catching up hangs over the two of you like a hangman’s noose

neither of you have brought up that night by the fire either

but something has definitely changed in the way you seek comfort and reassurance in each other

as if so long as you have each other, everything will be alright in the end

when you feel him tremble as he sleeps curled around you, restless from a plaguing nightmare, you hush sweet nothings and brush his locks away from his forehead until his breathing steadies out again

and when you’re seated on the saddle in front of him, you now having long grown accustomed to horse riding, he still finds himself resting a comforting hand on you somewhere - your hips, thigh or over your own hand

sometimes when he is laughing softly with you, your arms brushing against each other, you imagine a different story; one where you are worthy of loving him

sometimes when you are tucked into his chest, small exhales escaping your open lips as you sleep, mingi imagines a different story; one where he is able to love you freely

because despite the blood running through his veins that has ultimately led to his downfall, you still look at him as though he has placed the stars in the very sky that you two have spent countless nights under

and although he knows the reality is that he cannot, he tries to write his own story, even if just for tonight

you are lying in his arms, legs tangled together, when the question comes tumbling out of his lips

“will you stay with me, forever?”

he feels you still in his embrace, before you’re pulling back a little to look at him with a chuckle

“you should be asking a princess that, prince mingi, not somebody like me”

“you are a princess in my eyes”

you can’t help the endearing look that crosses over your face as you lightly tap his nose, “you know that is not how it works”

“then we can run away. for i am already as good as dead to my kingdom,” he tells you with boyish determination

“you cannot, mingi. your people need a good prince”

“but what prince would i be if i cannot even boldly love you? the person who is dearest to me?”

under his sincere gaze and the weight of his words, you allow him this moment of solace

because perhaps, you want it just as much as he does

“okay, i’ll be your princess,” you breathe out

“forever?”

“forever”

that night, it is just you and mingi - no titles that separate your world from his, no looming threat of death - just two people in love

even as an uneasy pit settles at the bottom of mingi’s stomach, a growing feeling that gnaws away at him into the early hours of the next morning

he is startled awake, your expression frightened, and he immediately understands when he hears the thunderous chorus of hooves hitting the ground towards you two

mingi had known there was not much time left, but he did not think that the inevitable confrontation would happen this soon, only mere hours after the soft kiss he had pressed against your forehead

the desperate attempt to escape once more is futile, the royal guards closing the distance within minutes

left with no choice but to stop, you and mingi demount and the guards move to flank you both in a wide semicircle

when the head of the guards, prince eun, saunters forward, mingi matches with a stride of his own so that he can step in front of you

“you killed the crown prince, eun,” mingi spits at his brother

“running and denying your actions up until your very last moments, i see,” prince eun laughs condescendingly. “and you even took a little dog with you, too”

mingi presses you closer to his back, hiding you from the leering gaze of his brother

prince eun smiles smugly at mingi’s reaction, before he takes out a scroll and unravels it

“for high treason of the assassination of the crown prince, the king hereby decrees the immediate revocation of nobility of his third son, song mingi, and for the execution of song mingi and his maid upon sighting.”

you press your nose into mingi’s back, taking one last inhale of his familiar scent

the bowmen all take aim as prince eun sneers, “any last words, brother?”

mingi turns around, and all you can see in that moment are his warm eyes and dimpled cheeks

“i love you, my princess,” he proclaims

“forever,” you reply

he brings his lips down to connect them with yours, drowning out the distinct vibration of loosening strings and the hiss of flying arrows with the roaring symphony in your hearts

you’re unsure what pain swallows you whole first - the pain as an arrowhead sinks into your chest, or the pain as you realise that this is the end of your short-lived love with mingi

you struggle to keep the smile on your face as you lock eyes with mingi, trying to memorise the loving gaze that adorns his own face

you see his mouth moving, but the pain exploding throughout your body is too loud for you to make out his words

with your last breath, you gasp out your final confession, “i love you too, mingi. we’ll meet again in the next life”

as the world starts to fade away, cold creeping into your limbs, you hope that in another story, in another lifetime, you and mingi will be able to find each other again

wooyoung

pov: you're the princess of a rival kingdom

“absolutely not, advisor lee,” your mother raises her nose in the air

“your highness, i understand but-”

“oh please, do not flatter yourself, queen cho,” queen jung spits out, “you are not the only one who abhors the idea”

you glare at the prince sitting across from you, your own gazes reflecting the tension in the room

advisor lee has suggested that your family and the jung family host a joint royal ball as a grand display of amity between the two neighbouring kingdoms, particularly between the princess - yourself - and their prince - prince wooyoung

there have been spreading rumours in town of the strained relationship between the two royal families

which aren’t entirely untrue

as a child, the two kingdoms have been loyal and steadfast in their alliance and friendship

in fact, it is not uncommon to find you joining prince wooyoung in his kitchen, begging the chefs to let you two lick the spoons

or to find prince wooyoung squatting next to you in your garden as you both look at the ladybugs

but as power imbalances emerge and political agendas start to diverge, a wedge is driven between your families

the relation is now dangerously close to severing completely, but not without the increasing attention of the towns surrounding the two kingdoms

and one of the last things both royal families need is unease and disunity amongst the commoners

which brings advisor lee to look on with exasperation as he tries to do his job - advise

except neither your mother nor queen jung look ready to accept his advice

your father nods slightly at the two of you, “you are dismissed, as are you, prince wooyoung”

you curtsy as the prince takes a slight bow, before you obnoxiously flick your hair over your shoulder and turn away on your heels

you escape to the garden, knowing that the meeting will take at least another hour before you are required to bid the jung family farewell

except, surprise surprise

who do you run into

you narrow your eyes at prince wooyoung as he steps towards you, who has one eyebrow quirked, “a royal ball, he says?”

“absolutely not,” you fold your arms across your chest

“oh please, do not flatter yourself, princess,” he sneers, not dissimilar to the nasally tone his mother had voiced her dissatisfaction earlier with

neither of you back down, daring the other to say something else

before you two break out into giggles, eyes glittering scandalously

“did you see your mother deliberately pass the salt instead of sugar for the tea?”

“and then the face my mother made when she took a sip of it-”

he pulls you to crouch behind an azalea bush as you both chortle like children, out of sight, before he brings you in for a dizzying kiss

you sigh, resting a hand on his chest

“do you also abhor the idea of dancing with me, prince wooyoung?” a teasing lilt in your voice

“absolutely,” he nods grimly, “why go to all that effort when there is a much grander and longer-lasting solution?”

“and what is that, my prince?”

he sneaks another chaste kiss from your lips, “for me to take your hand in marriage, my princess”

at his words, your smile dampens

“you know that i would say yes in a heartbeat. it is not i who needs convincing, but our parents”

because despite the growing hostility between your two families, the relationship you share with wooyoung has, ironically, blossomed into one of well-concealed adoration, intimacy and love

you two have come to learn that that one slightly lighter stone on the western side of your kingdom’s outer walls comes loose, and is the perfect size for slipping a piece of paper behind it

you two have also come to learn that every fourth week, if you ask your personal tutor enough questions about the plants laid out on the store’s table in front of you during your scheduled lesson in town, you’ll be able to drag it out long enough for you both to just catch a glimpse of each other as he and his escorts cut through the town on their way back to his kingdom

and of course, you two have come to learn the most isolated spots in your own respective kingdoms, like the second stairwell leading down to the cellar in wooyoung’s palace

and amongst the azalea bushes in the back garden in yours

which is exactly how you knew that he would appear, how you knew that he would give you those sweet kisses you have been craving so desperately

as wooyoung cups your jaw to kiss you once more, one that leaves you wanting to chase his lips forever, he bets you that it’ll only take two weeks of close-quarter meetings between your royal families before one of your mothers blow up and the ball idea falls through completely

in response, you bet him that they won’t even last two weeks - one at the most

except you’re both wrong

the meeting turns into two, followed by several more as the planning goes ahead

sometimes, the meetings are held in the jung palace

other times, their family journeys to your kingdom instead

one thing that stays constant is the malevolence in the air

the parents are sarcastic snipes and saccharine smiles

and on the surface, you and wooyoung are further extensions of your own parents’ simmering loathing for the other

but under the intricately-carved wooden table, you two are playing footsies, jeweled heels and leather shoes engaged in a playful fight

you see how many times you can slide your heels up along his shin, gradually inching closer towards his inner thigh with each coquettish touch

he has you pass him anything and everything under the guise of forgoing the help of the numerous royal butlers and maids around the room to deliberately irritate you

really, it is to accidentally brush his fingers over your hands; to see the pretty shade of rose that settles over your cheeks and ears as you both try not to break out into giggles

and perhaps, during the meals that may take place during the meetings, there have been a couple of peas flicked at each other here and there when no one is paying attention

(unbeknownst to you two, the maids and butlers alike must hide their own endearing smiles)

the weeks turn into months and you practically have a permanent glow radiating from you, now that you have been seeing the prince so frequently

(which also does not go unnoticed)

as you select a necklace from the assortment of choices to emphasise the plunging neckline of your off-shoulder gown, you wonder how the day of the royal ball has arrived so quickly

your personal maid, jihye, carefully fixes the clasp of the necklace around you before stepping back to let you look in the mirror

you smooth a hand over the soft lavender charmeuse of your dress, nervously looking at jihye

“how do i look?”

“stunning, my princess,” she assures you, before adding, “prince wooyoung will definitely love it”

“prin- he- what? i- sorry?” you say unintelligibly, before you try to salvage the situation by tucking a lock of hair behind your ear as you laugh her off

but jihye just looks at you knowingly

meanwhile, prince wooyoung is already at the grand hall, the jung family having arrived two days prior for the final preparations of the ball

he and his friends, princes from kingdoms located further up north and towards the east, are lingering around one of the tables decorated with flower arrangements and elaborate candle holders, ignoring the longing glances of other attendees, women and men alike, thrown at their striking posse

wooyoung is trying to keep his gaze subtle, scanning the vast number of people at the ball without craning or turning his head, searching for one particular face

yours

prince yeosang nudges the others, jerking his chin to motion towards the distracted wooyoung

when wooyoung finally realises he isn’t as subtle as he thinks, all his friends are already looking at him with varying degrees of smirks

“just know that if there were not so many people here,” wooyoung begins with a pleasant smile, “i would flip you all off right now”

before he can try stepping on his friends’ toes in the form of petty revenge, prince seonghwa points towards the entrance as his smile grows impossibly wider

“look”

wooyoung turns around

and like any typical man who is head over heels in love, the world around him slows down

the gushing whispers spreading throughout the ballroom fade into the background

because finally, there you are, gracefully stepping past the threshold of the arched doorway in all your alluring beauty, accentuated by the way your curled locks and flowing gown frame your body

for the briefest moment, you lock eyes with him, and wooyoung feels his brain shutting down on him

“you’re going to catch a fly in your mouth, woo”

“pick up your jaw. it’s on the ground”

prince yunho pretends to dab wooyoung’s mouth with the ruffled sleeves of his cream shirt, “you’re drooling, darling”

at that, wooyoung smacks his lips dazedly before coming to a moment of realisation, blinking hard twice to bring himself back to reality

“god, you’re hopeless. just go up and talk to her,” prince hongjoong snickers. “the whole point of this ball is to show off how ‘close’ your families are anyway”

wooyoung grumbles that he knows, he’s just looking for the right timing

which, unfortunately, does not seem to come

you spend what feels like the next two hours being whisked around, feigning polite interest as you are forced to engage in dull and bland conversations with numerous men of differing royal statuses, all of whom are no doubt trying to make an impression on you in hopes of becoming a potential suitor in the future

not that you have eyes for anyone apart from the one who already has your heart

the very same person who is currently fed up with watching you converse and let your hands be kissed by men who are not him

even if he knows you are pretending, he thinks that you sure are damn good at giggling at all the right times

you are trying not to let your smile turn into a grimace as the older-aged man, lord ryu you think, boasts of his wealth to you, when wooyoung enters your peripheral vision

“princess, lord ryu,” he greets you both, before looking down at the latter, “pardon me as i take the princess for a dance”

lord ryu, visibly irked but unable to say anything to the prince of significantly higher status, lets go of your hand to step back into a bow, “of course, prince wooyoung”

you giggle, this time genuinely, as wooyoung takes your hand to gently lead you towards the center of the ballroom, where several others are starting to waltz to the soft music that is now playing

you rest a hand just below his shoulder, feeling the sturdiness of his muscles flexing beneath his shirt, as he places his other hand to settle on the dip of your waist

a little possessively, you might add

“you look beautiful today,” he murmurs lowly, away from any prying ears

“only today?” you quirk an eyebrow teasingly

his voice drops down an octave, “well it’s not every day that i can tell you, princess”

wooyoung’s eyes flicker down hungrily to look at your lips

you run your tongue slowly over your bottom lip, knowing it will drive him absolutely crazy that he cannot just take you right there and then in front of everybody

and you can see the moment his resolve snaps

“meet me for some fresh air in ten,” bringing his lips as close to the shell of your ear as he dares

and then he’s gone

you become progressively antsy as you wait out a generous amount of time after he leaves for you to also slip away from the ballroom

wooyoung pins you against a pillar as soon as you emerge in the garden, aching to kiss you and fight for dominance until you’re both breathless and light-headed

“you don’t know how desperately i wanted to kiss you in front of everyone - let the whole world know that you’re mine,” he nips at your bottom lip

you rest your hands on his chest, fingers curled around the pleated front of his satin shirt to hold yourself steady as he turns your lips into an artwork of swollen cherry reds

he tilts your head back a little more, your mouths moving in tandem, soft moans drawn out of you, when-

“what in god’s name is going on?”

you and wooyoung startle apart at the shriek

the blush dusting your faces pale almost immediately at the sight of not just your mother, but also queen jung and a few of the royal staff

it’s kind of amusing that of all things for the two queens to have the same mindset about, it is the discovery of you and wooyoung’s secret relationship that unites them, both sharing twin expressions of horror and revulsion

you’re ripped from each other’s arms as you are forced back into the confines of your bed chamber, royal ball long forgotten

your only solace is learned later that night, when jihye brings a trolley of food you have no appetite for, that the jung family have not yet returned to their kingdom

they are still in your palace somewhere

yet that does little to soothe your tears, overwhelmed by the drastic turn of events, and you do not know when you fall asleep that night

all you know is that it is to a bed too cold and a longing in your heart too gaping to ignore

“princess,” you look up to see jihye standing at your door the next morning, almost apologetic, “the king and queen request for your presence in the throne room”

as you approach the room after tidying your appearance, your breath hitches when you spot him just by the double doors

you barrel forwards into his waiting arms, uncaring of the staff following behind you

not that they have the heart to stop you either way

“i thought you would have been forced to leave,” you blurt, unable to believe that wooyoung is right in front of you

“i’m still here,” he chuckles. “i have been summoned by your parents”

your heart drops down to your stomach at his words as you realise what this meeting is about

“and i am glad they did, princess,” wooyoung is quick to interject before your apology makes it past the tip of your tongue. “i am going to ask for your hand in marriage. officially”

“what if they banish us from ever seeing each other again?” worry overwhelms you as your breathing quickens

wooyoung gently laces his fingers through yours, bringing up his other hand to cup your face and run his thumb comfortingly over the curve of your cheekbone to keep you grounded

“no matter what happens today, no matter what the outcome is,” he looks at you with the fierce determination of a man ready to give up anything and everything for your sake, “i will never ever stop fighting for you”

he presses his soft lips against yours

“for us,” he vows

your breathing evens out, and while your heartbeat still pounds inside your ribcage, you know that it marches in rhythm with the man in front of you

this time, not afraid to appear in front of the rulers of your kingdoms - your parents - you and wooyoung nod in reassurance at each other once more, hand in hand, before you both push the doors to the throne room open

together.

jongho

pov: you're under his protection as your royal guard

over the din of volunteered names in the meeting room, jongho steps forward

“your majesty, i will accompany the princess,” he declares

“choi jongho?” your father scans him up and down with regard before nodding in approval, “it is decided then”

“him? surely i need another person with me as well?” you protest

your father quirks an eyebrow at you, a subtle reminder that whilst he is your father, he is also the king

“no, you will need to travel in disguise and stay as discreet as possible. only jongho will accompany you as your royal guard”

your father looks away and starts to address the next item on the meeting agenda; it is quite clear there is no room for argument

meanwhile, jongho sidles up to you

“you trying to catch bugs or something? close your mouth, princess,” he teases under his breath

you nudge him with an elbow, “you’re the only bug i see around here”

he rolls his eyes but you both snicker in unison when one of your older sisters turns around to shush you with a dirty look

regardless, you stay silent for the rest of the meeting

you’re not sure why jongho stepped forward to take on this task

because for someone who is your main royal guard and is supposed to be loyal and obedient, he sure makes it clear that his job is about as gratifying as babysitting

(“you can’t talk to me like that. i’m the princess”)

(“no, you’re not. you’re an idiot”)

in fact, when you had been notified a few days prior that you would be traveling with one other royal guard - who had yet to be decided at the time - jongho had spent every single day gloating that he would finally get a break from babysitting you

and yet here he is

with the opportunity to hand you off to somebody else

but instead, baring his teeth at the other guards who offer themselves up for this scouting mission

he would never admit to it either, but jongho personally spoke to the king years ago about being rostered on as your main bodyguard since he’s “known the princess for the longest and so i can protect her the best”

you don’t want to travel to the border

you’re in charge of maintaining security and defense along your borders and with neighbouring kingdoms, usually dealing with complications remotely through the ministers and advisors who work for you

this time though, there has been recent unrest near the southern borders of your kingdom near denport, a city notorious for bandits and fugitives

the situation has worsened with increased risk of bloodshed, thus has the need for you to survey the borders in person

and as the youngest sibling of five, the king has made it very clear that this is your opportunity to prove your capabilities

jongho makes sure to remind you of this fact when you grumble your way through packing a satchel of essential items to take with you

(“your fluffy slippers are not essential, princess”)

(you listen and throw them back onto the floor of your bedchambers, but stuff in a few paperweights when he isn’t looking out of petty revenge because you know he’ll end up carrying your bag for you later when you ask him to)

it’s a relatively long journey to denport, so as soon as you are ready, jongho having long finished packing his own bag, you leave your kingdom with him at your side

by the time the sun is starting to set later that day, you’re passing through a small town

he suggests calling it a night and recuperating at one of the inns

you wait while he inquires about available rooms and then follow him through a small alleyway to the inn that he has chosen for the night

you take all but one look at the rotting wood and creaking sign at the entrance before you are crossing your arms like a petulant child

“there’s no way i’m staying the night in this sorry excuse of an inn”

he merely blinks

“you’re technically not the princess right now so you better listen to me or god help me, i’ll-”

“you’ll what,” you challenge, nose-to-nose

or nose-to-throat, you suppose

but before you can dwell any further on your height difference, jongho picks you up, slings you over his shoulder like you are nothing more than a sack of potatoes, and walks into the inn without a care in the world that you are screaming bloody murder

you resign to your fate and flop uselessly against his back as he carries you up the stairs

instead, when he throws you onto the bed upon entering the room, you look up at him sultrily and smirk, “ooh, now i’m turned on”

jongho shakes his head with exasperation but you don’t miss the redness that is creeping up the back of his neck as he turns around to close the door shut

“wait,” you sit up on the bed, “we’re sharing a room?”

“it’s safer. i’ll sleep on the sofa”

you scrunch your nose at the arrangement, but you do admittedly feel a little more at ease in the unfamiliar room of the inn

you start to take a shoe off before a thought flits through your mind and you point the shoe in your hand at him like a weapon, “you better not snore”

jongho rolls his eyes as he steps forward to take the shoe out of your hand, and then he is bending down to help slip off the shoe from your other foot

a thank you lies on the tip of your tongue

“you’re the only snorer in this room, princess”

nevermind.

it’s gone.

you’re settled in bed, waiting for jongho to finish washing up and turn off the lights, when you spot it

holy shit

your immediate reaction is to seek his protection

“jongho!”

the door to the bathroom swings open almost immediately as he rushes out, eyes alarmed, alert, and zeroing onto you

water drips off the ends of his hair and you can still spot suds on his exposed torso

“what’s wrong? are you okay? are you hurt?” his voice is laced with restrained panic

you point to the corner of the room and then he sees it too

his body stiffens completely

because, mere metres from the two of you, presence sinister and dangerous…

is a fucking spider

all is quiet and still for a while, your eyes flickering back and forth between your royal guard and the spider in a tense standoff

then, just as you are about to speak up, jongho grabs his bag and swiftly turns on his heels to head towards the room’s door

“where are you going?!” you shriek

he looks at you forlornly from over his shoulder, “to prepare for my execution”

“what the fuck are you on about, jongho?”

“for abandoning my duties and failing to protect you. farewell, princess. you are on your own from here-”

his sentence is cut short as the spider scuttles towards him

and that is how you two, disguised, but still a royal princess and royal guard no less, are given an eviction warning because he streaked through the corridors of the inn half naked and screaming at the top of his lungs

needless to say, the innkeeper ends up having to remove the spider for the two of you

“you’re so embarrassing,” you whisper to him once you two are finally settled in bed and on the sofa

“no, i’m jongho,” he cackles

you don’t humour him with a response, but you know he snickers himself to sleep that night

you can’t help but let the corner of your lips tug up as well

a few days later after leaving the town, you two are resting side by side against a tree trunk when you decide to grace jongho with the opportunity to redeem himself

he’s currently halving a sandwich so you two can share

“if i were trapped in a forest full of spiders and you were the only person who could save me,” you ask gravely, “what would you do?”

without missing a beat, he replies, “prepare to grieve your death and make sure your pet cat is well fed in your honour”

he passes you the bigger sandwich as you turn to look at him with the most scandalised expression

“can you at least pretend to think for a bit?” you grumble

there’s a hint of a smile on jongho’s face when he apologises, “okay, sorry. ask me again”

you hit him with a different scenario this time

“if you had to fight a giant spider who had taken me hostage, what would you do?”

he hums thoughtfully for a few seconds, unscrewing a canteen of water for you and placing it by your side

“i would say, she is all yours, your spidery majesty, and then i would bow and walk away”

“fuck you,” you shove him good-naturedly with your shoulder

he swipes the canteen before you can knock it over and presses it into your smaller hand instead, giving it a quick pat as he dismisses your insult, “sure, if you think you can handle my dick”

“like they say,” you waggle your eyebrows at him as your voice drops down lower, “practice makes perfect”

jongho’s stoic facade finally cracks when you lean in closer and he hurries to stand up and put some distance between you and him

he shifts his legs subtly, clearing his throat to say, “we should go, denport is close”

when you’ve finished off the last of your sandwich, you dust off your fingers and grab jongho’s offered hand to stand up too

“let’s go”

one thing you have both noticed is that the closer you get to the border between your kingdom and denport, the quieter and thicker the atmosphere seems to get

the small towns you pass through have less people roaming around; in fact, most people seem to flee back into the refuge of their own houses, locking their doors and closing their windows when they catch sight of your pair

and then it happens

your plan goes awry

you and jongho are harshly awoken by a commotion outside the small room you have rented for the night

there’s a sickening smell accompanied by wails of grief in the air

when you rush outside, all you can see is a huge crowd of people gathered and your ears strain to pick up on the broken hushes of information being thrown around

“his son is lucky to have been spared”

“lucky to have seen his father slaughtered by bandits?”

“i heard it wasn’t money that they were after, though”

“those damned denport devils are up to something”

that’s all you pick up on before jongho snatches your arm and leads you back into the inn, telling you that it’s too dangerous to be out there; too dangerous for you two to continue traveling

which leads to the very first argument you ever have with him

you two butt heads all the time with your own fiery fronts and hardheadedness but more often than not, he yields to you

you’re facing him in the dim room - it is shadier than that first inn you two made a stop at weeks ago, but you’re both sharing one room just like you two have done at every single inn since

“we need to go check it out!” you shout at him

jongho takes a shaky breath as he tries to keep his voice even, “no, we should go back to our kingdom, report on the situation and call for backup!”

you throw your hands up into the air, “we’re already here - we’re basically at denport! what if something blows up soon? it might be too late by the time we go back”

jongho steps in closer as his eyes narrow

you don’t cower because you know he would never hurt you, but you do step backwards because you don’t think you can keep a clear head when he is standing so close to you, proximity dizzying like the buzz of alcohol

“of all times for you to play hero and do something that you weren’t asked to, why now? why put yourself in danger?”

your back hits the wall as jongho corners you

your chest heaves, as does his, both of you overwhelmed with emotions

he holds your gaze but his eyes are rounded with agony and distress

you don’t understand why he is so against your decision

you don’t know what to say, until your eyes flicker down involuntarily at the movement of his lips parting to exhale-

“damn, jongho, your lips are real chapped. you should use some of my lip balm”

he blinks hard at the absurdity of what you chose to say

he looks at your lips

he makes a decision

“then give me some of yours,” he says, a little breathless

and then he’s pressing his chapped lips against your smooth ones, the taste of coconut filling your mouth as your lip balm smears

suddenly, he pulls back with the audacity to look shocked as if you are the one who kissed him

and then he leaves the room without another word

he doesn’t return that night and you don’t manage to sleep either

you wonder when you started becoming used to falling asleep with him in the same room

jongho clears his throat awkwardly when you open the door in the morning and find him leaning against the wall just by the doorframe

you’re not sure whether he came back not too long ago from god knows where, or whether he was actually standing guard outside all night

you think you know which one it is, even if he doesn’t confirm it

“we’re checking out,” he mumbles, shuffling briskly into the room to grab his few belongings he had left and exiting the room again with you trailing behind

neither of you say much more to each other

you think that he’s going to lead you back the way you two came, lead you back and undo the weeks’ worth of journeying and go back to the castle

but then he’s sighing, deep and burdened, and he gently takes your hand to continue on towards denport

he’s never held your hand before

not like this, at least, tenderly tugging you along with every step so that you are no more than a few inches away from his side

you want to bicker with him and chortle together like usual but you keep quiet, giving him the space that he appears to need even if he is physically ensuring you are tucked right into his side

you two walk until the sun has dipped below the horizon

from what you know, you are right along the southern border and denport will only be another half day’s walk away

jongho makes a small bonfire before he joins you to lean against a fallen log

he shimmies off his coat and drapes it over your legs and then the forest also settles into silence along with you both

it’s now or never

“why are you so against us going to the border?” you ask him

he runs his fingers through his hair

an unruly tuft of hair stays upright and you fold your arms to stop yourself from reaching out and smoothening it for him

he looks at you as he says, “i’m fine with me going to the border, it’s you i’m not fine with. you do remember that i’m your royal guard, right”

“is that all there is to your reason,” you push, “that you’re my guard?”

you both know you’re referring to more than just the argument itself

jongho’s gaze breaks away, looking ahead at the flames of the fire instead

he is silent

for once, jongho is unarmed; no immediate snark or teasing remark to toss back at you

you hear him swallow and take a breath

“i…i don’t know,” he starts. “all i know is that with each passing day, the more i want to keep you safe”

jongho looks at you again, eyebrows drawn down ever so slightly

“why do you make me feel so worried?”

at his words, your heart clenches in an unfamiliar way and you attempt to lighten the mood, “maybe you like me”

“maybe i do”

oh.

with the reflection of the fire dancing in his eyes, it almost looks as though he is about to cry

“please, don’t go to the border, princess,” he begs softly

his plea remains unwavering and you find your heart doing the exact opposite

after a few seconds of silence, you say

“okay, jongho. i won’t”

the tension from his shoulders seeps out and he gently tugs you towards him so he can tuck you into his side once again

“you promise that we turn around and go back tomorrow morning?”

you nod against the warmth of the crook of his neck, then murmur, “do you think father will be disappointed in me? for returning?”

he rubs a hand up and down your arm soothingly

“of course not, princess. you’ve already done so much more than you needed to. he’ll be proud of you”

and then he adds on, “just like i’m proud of you”

this is the first time anyone has ever really validated your efforts; being the youngest of a large family means you are often overshadowed

caught off guard, all you can do is whisper out, “thank you, jongho”

he hums and you feel his smile against the crown of your head

you’ve never been drunk before, but you think that this is the closest you have ever gotten

you are intoxicated by him

“if you’re thankful,” the rumble of jongho’s voice against your cheek is pleasant, “can i ask for something?”

“whatever you want”

he eases you from the comfort of his neck and tilts your chin up slightly with a finger, cheeky grin plastered across his face

“can i have some more of your lip balm?”

3K notes · View notes

hxzbinwrites · 4 months

Note

Hiiii! Could I request a oneshot where Husk reunites with a gn! S/o he had back when he was alive? The reader decides to stay at the Hazbin Hotel as a way of staying protected from the rest of the sinners and overlords in hell. After Charlie introduces them to everyone, they stop at the bar for a shot and they recognize eachothers voices.

(It can be fluff or angst)

Tysm!^^✨️

Husk x Gn! Reader | Quitting |

Warnings ⚠️: Drinking, Alcohol Abuse, Cussing

(Y/n) is a mess. Just a plain mess. That’s what everyone though at least. Just a drunk weaving in and out of the next bar, blurring the lines between today and tomorrow, reality and fiction.

Groggily they drag their feet along the pavement, tired eyes desperately searching for a cheap enough bar that will still take them in. So far, no luck has been found. Most of the bars are either too expensive for someone who already blew everything they had on alcohol, or already know who they are and refuse to let them into their establishment.

And don’t even think about a place to stay. (Y/n) hasn’t been able to afford rent in years, not even a cheap motel to stay at. It’d be a blessing if somewhere that was a free stay just popped out right infront of them and just offered a place-

“HELLO!!”

“AH! WHAT THE HELL?” (Y/n) said, scowling at the cheerful face infront of them. It was Lucifer’s daughter, Charlie Morningstar. “Listen kid, don’t you know not to sneak up on folks!”

“Ah! I am so sorry!!” Charlie said, tucking her papers with drawings of rainbows made with crayon under her arm as she grabbed (Y/n)‘s hands.

“I’m here to make you an offer!” She said, smiling once more. Her cheerful demeanor was very different from (Y/n)’s deadpan expression.

“Listen kid, I don’t got much money. I find some here and there and then I blow it on booze, if you need investments, why don’t ya go to an Overlord or something, I ain’t got time for all of this.”

“Oh I don’t need any money!” Charlie said,”I need you! I’m working on a project to help rehabilitate sinners!! Help them go to Heaven!! And I’d like you to participate!”

“Why would I do that?” (Y/n) said, raising an eyebrow. “Shouldn’t you start off on an easier case or something, I just don’t think that’s a good idea-“

“You can stay there for free!-”

“Alright lets go.” (Y/n) said, taking their hands out of Charlie’s grasp before she started to crush them in a hug.

“YAY!!! ANOTHER GUEST AT THE HOTEL!!!” She squealed, making the drunk’s head throb at the loud noise.

“Alright, alright, that’s enough Princess. Lets go to this ‘hotel’ of yours.”

——————

Charlie kicked open the doors to the Hazbin Hotel, skipping in alongside (practically dragging along) the newest guest, (Y/n).

“EVERYONE!!!!” Charlie shouted,”EMERGENCY MEETING!! WE HAVE A NEW GUEST!!”

(Y/n) covered their ears, their eyes squinting in annoyance at the Princess’s very loud entrance.

Mostly everyone slowly made their way to the lobby, Vaggie being the first to enter.

“Hey. I’m Vaggie. I’m Charlie’s girlfriend. If anyone here gives you trouble, let me know, I’ll handle them.”. For someone so laid back and monotone, you really wouldn’t expect her partner to be the hyper princess who was literally jumping up and down.

(Y/n) and Vaggie conversed for a bit before Sir Pentious, Angel Dust, Alastor, and Nifty entered as well.

They all talked and got to know each other before in the corner of their eye, (Y/n) caught sight of a bar. A BAR!! They quickly excused themselves and hopped behind the counter, quickly mixing a drink.

“Excuse me, who are you and what are you doing behind my counter?” A deep voice said, instantly making (Y/n) freeze in their tracks.

“Husk?” They asked, turning around expecting a familiar face only to be met with a casio themed cat.

“(Y/n)? Is that really you?”

“Husk!!” They said, reaching over the counter to give him a hug, much like the one they were internally complaining about with Charlie earlier.

“It’s good to see you old friend. How’s Hell been treatin’ ya?”

“Shitty” They replied,”since I died, I’ve been a drunk and living off the streets for a few years. Well decades now. Oh well, I’m here now!”

Husk narrowed his eyes at her,”so you’re telling me that my old drinking buddy has been living off of these dangerous streets! Hell (Y/n), I’m glad that Charlie found you. Now, move away from the counter, let me make you a drink to commemorate you quitting drinking.”

“No fair!” (Y/n) said, plopping down on the bar stool,”quitting? We all know that’s impossible. I was a drunk when I was alive, I’m a drunk now that I’m dead-“

“And you’ll become sober when you go to Heaven. I….I really care for you (Y/n), you shouldn’t stay in this shithole. Go up to those pearly gates. For me please?” He said, sliding them their favorite drink.

“Sure Husk, I’ll do it for you. But if I do it, you gotta promise to come with me right after okay? No more gambling.”

Husk sighed, closing his tired eyes,”Fine. I’ll do it for you. You better be glad though (Y/n), I wouldn’t do this for nobody except you.”

They smiled, looking into Husk’s eyes as he smiled back. They both knew that they were gonna keep their promises.

—————

Word Count: 823

(sorry it’s so short 😭)

#hazbin hotel husk #husker hazbin hotel #hazbin husk #huskerdust #hazbin husker #husker x reader #husk x reader #husk #husker #hotel hazbin #hazbin hotel fandom #hazbin hotel spoilers #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hôtel #demon! reader #demon reader

773 notes · View notes

americaswritings · 1 year

Text

When we fall | Part 3

Warnings (for all parts): Fluff, angst, description of injuries and blood, gun use, cursing, probably unaccurate policing/medicine

Summary: You moved to Chicago to start a new life. Working as a doctor alongside your brother Connor you make new friends and although you swore to yourself not to let any man in your life at least for a while, your promises fail when you lock eyes with a handsome stranger in a bar.

Words: 6k

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Doctor!Rhodes!reader

A/N: And here is the last part of the short series. The events are inspired by a chicago med ep. I really hope you enjoyed it :)

Part 1 | Part 2

“We’ll take care of you and your daughter.” You smiled at your patient reassuringly, noticing someone moving towards you in corner of your eye. Turning your head you saw a man with tousled hair standing at the threshold, his eyes almost hazy as his gaze skipped around the room.

“Where’s Leah?!”, he barked out, his eyes only focused on your patient. Your gaze flickered towards her, taking in the fear in her eyes and the gasp that left her lips. “Jake? How did you find us here?”, she whispered, oblivion dripping from her voice.

“Did you really think you could just leave and take our daughter with you? She’s my daughter too!” He took a threatening step closer, eyes narrowed. “Now, where is she?!”

Your patient’s breathing had quickened and a look at the heart monitor told you she was about to have a panic attack. “Sir, I need you to calm down and take a step back”, you said forcefully, drawing his attention on you. His eyes jumped to you, anger brimming in them.

“Like hell I will! I’m taking my wife and my kid home now!” Your eyes flickered towards the nurse, giving her a little nod to signal her to call the security service, before you met his again. “I can see you’re upset. But your wife and your daughter are sick. They need treatment and rest-”

“Shut up!” You flinched as he yelled at you, his loud voice alarming multiple people around you. “Everything okay in here?” Will appeared at the door, his eyes scanning the room until they landed at yours, staying there as he waited for an honest answer.

The man shook his head furiously, but he took a step back. You almost exhaled in relief. “I want to see my daughter! Now!”, he demanded, but before anyone could gave him an answer, he turned and ripped open the curtain to the next room.

You heard squeals, alarmed voices mixing with the sound of another curtain being ripped open. “Sir, I need you to leave now!” Will leaned forward to grab the man’s shoulder when suddenly he yanked out a gun, twisting around and pointing it right at Will’s chest.

A gasp escaped you as you watched Will stumble back, his hands raised. “Look man, we’re just trying to help, okay?” But the man, Jake, didn’t seem to hear any of it, his eyes filled with hatred and something that scared you even more; desperation and determination. A dangerous combination.

He wouldn’t leave until he got what he wanted.

“What’s going on here?” You heard Connor’s voice, saw him step out of a patient’s room and move towards the intruder. From his angle he couldn’t see the gun, couldn’t know the severity of the situation.

“Connor, no!” Your legs moved forward at the same time as the man turned around, the gun pointed at your brother. Everything seemed to happen so fast and in slow-motion at once as your body reacted purely on instinct, the fear for your brother carrying you forward.

You didn’t know if he meant to pull the trigger or if it was out of reflex, but you had no time to think about it as a shot rang out.

You would have screamed, but no sound left your mouth as the impact hit you, sending your body tumbling backwards until it hit the wall. Only moments before your feet had carried you forward, but now they suddenly couldn’t take your weight anymore, your body sinking to the ground.

Around you screams were erupting, but they sounded drowned out, as if you were underwater. Your name was being called, but it all seemed to blend into a haze.

You tried to peek at where you felt a sudden pressure in your body, shock mixing with confusion as you saw blood staining your clothes. Just seconds ago you had been standing in a patient’s room and now you were on the ground, your own blood pooling around your feet. It didn’t make sense.

From the periphery of your eye you saw people running. Some moved towards you, but most of them the opposite way. Away. They were running away.

And they were pushing, tripping, falling over each other. “Put down the gun!” You saw one of the security men approach, his own gun drawn at the attacker. Another shot cut through the atmosphere, but to your horror it was the security man that fell, blood splattering from a wound to his front.

“Everyone just back off!”

Jake’s sharp voice snapped you out of your shock and all at once reality hit you. Pain sank in, slowly at first and then in a stream of hot sensations. Tears formed in your eyes at the burning pain and you grit your teeth, trying to will it away, because you knew you needed to be aware of what happened next.

Lifting your head slightly you found the ER had mostly cleared out, only a few people remaining. Among them were Will and Connor, both of their bodies’ turned towards you in a way that suggested they had tried to get to you, their hands raised.

“Just let me get to my sister, okay? I’m a doctor and she needs help.” You stared at Connor, seeing the panic he tried to restrain as he appealed to the man reasonably. Jake’s eyes flickered towards you, hesitance written over his face.

“You didn’t want this to happen, do you?” Connor asked, his voice strained. “So let me make this better. Let me help.” He was pleading now and another wave of panic filled you as you realized he was only mere seconds away from doing something reckless.

For a moment you thought you were going to throw up from the sickness that cursed through your body, but you feared you wouldn’t even be able to move your body in the state you were in.

Jake let out a frustrated breath, gesturing towards you with his gun. “Okay. Okay!” Connor rushed over to you immediately, his concerned eyes meeting yours. “Are you okay? How do you feel? Can you tell me where you’ve been hit?”

You tried to follow his questions, your mind spinning. Instead of an answer you let out a groan as Connor found your wound, pressing down on it. “We need to stop the bleeding.”

Now that he was here by your side a weakness took over your body and you welcomed it. Welcomed the dark, because it felt easier to lean into it than fight it. But it never swallowed you. As much as you wished you could just pass out, the pain didn’t end, keeping you caged in your body.

You didn’t need to ask him how serious your condition was. The urgency in Connor’s movement alone was enough for you to confirm it was bad, the seeping hot pain a further indicator.

You saw Jake still waving his gun around, speaking in an animated tone with Will and Maggie. To your left someone had crouched down next to the security guard and you felt a flicker of relief when you saw it was Ethan.

A cough rose up your throat and your body shook, sending an ache through you. When you wiped your mouth you noticed your skin had turned red.

“No, no, no”, your brother whispered, his eyes frantic. “Connor”, you said, your voice a little hoarse. He paused for a moment, both of you locking eyes in a quiet exchange. “I’m scared”, you whispered, feeling a few tears escape your eyes.

Connor swallowed, his eyes filled with desperation. “I know”, he leaned closer, “But you will be okay. I will fix it, okay?.”

You nodded slowly, needing to cling to his words. To hold onto the reminder that you would be okay. That your life wasn’t over when you hadn’t even started fully living yet.

It didn’t make sense. You had woken up a few minutes before your alarm clock, had been in an oddly good mood as you had gotten ready for work and even your patients had been unusually patient and grateful. Today was a good day. Not a day that could turn into such a catastrophe in the blink of an eye.

This didn’t happen. Maybe in books or on tv. But not here, not to people like you.

“Hey!” Dr. Goodwin appeared in your vision, bending down to Connor and you. “What’s the status?” You hadn’t seen her before, but knowing she was here already gave you a sparkle of hope. As the hospital’s executive director it was her job to find solutions, even in the face of the worst possible events. She would get them out of here, somehow.

“She’s been shot in the abdomen. No exit wound so the bullet is still inside. I believe she’s bleeding internally.”

You saw a shadow cloud Dr. Goodwin’s as she looked at you and it was as if you could see the wheels in her head turning as she assessed the situation.

“What’s going on?”, you asked weakly, needing to know if the others were safe. “Mr. Whitman demands to take his wife and daughter and leave. I was on the phone with the Chicago police department. They told me he’s got a history of domestic abuse and violence. The wife filed a report on him and moved states to get him out of her life.”

“And he found her now.” You gulped, slowly piecing the pieces together. Dr. Goodwin nodded, graveness written over her face. “So what’s the plan?” It was Connor, his voice urgent.

Dr. Goodwin sighed, taking off her glasses and pinching the brick of her nose. You had never seen her like this, so defeated, and it filled you with unease.

“The police is here and a squad team too. But there is no way we can let them inside or get someone outside right now without Mr. Whitman noticing. Right now they are preparing for getting just one person in. Unarmed.”

“What help is that going to be?” Connor let out a scoff and it annoyed you how quick to judge he was, and more so, that you agreed with him. What would another person talking to Jake change?

“It would be a trained officer, who has the experience and skills to deal with these kind of high pressure situations. The plan would be for him to try and talk to Mr. Whitman first and if that’s not effective either, assess the situation and make a move or get back to the team and share valuable information with them.”

You could see Connor still shaking his head, but Dr. Goodwin stood again. “It’s the only thing Mr. Whitman has agreed to. You know I would prefer to get everyone else out, but he has been clear. If one person leaves, he is going to make use of his gun again.”

“And what are we supposed to do now? Just wait?”

“Connor”, you tried to calm him, but his eyes snapped to yours. “We need an OR now! Monique!” The blonde nurse standing next to Ethan looked over. You could see the fear written all over her face. “Can you take over for a moment?”

She gave a nod, her eyes flickering to Jake who didn’t let them out of sight. Crouching down next to you the two quickly exchanged their hands applying pressure onto your wound, the sensation making you let out a groan.

But you pushed away the pain, trying to focus on Connor. “What are you doing?”, you hissed as you watched him get up, wishing you could hold him back.

“Dr. Rhodes, we should wait for the officer to arrive. Right now the situation is stable and I can’t risk-” “Stable? Is that what you call this?” Connor pushed himself fully up now, the movement catching Jake’s eye.

“Sit back down!” But Connor lifted his hands, taking a cautious step forward. “My sister likely suffers from an internal bleeding. We need an OR to-” “No! Nobody goes anywhere!”

Connor’s face fell, his shoulders sinking, but he took another step forward. The grip the fear had around your heart tightened. “Please, I need to stop the bleeding. You don’t want her to die, right?”

Jake stared at you for a moment before his attention was back on your brother. “I just want my daughter and my wife!”

“And we get that. We do. But she-”, he turned halfway towards you, his eyes not leaving Jake for a second, “has nothing to do with this. Let me save her life.”

“I said no one goes anywhere! You save her here or you don’t save her at all. It’s on you!”

You watched Connor open his mouth again, but before he could say another word Jake stepped forward, his gun pointed directly at his chest.

“Do I look like someone who’s joking?!”, he yelled, making everyone around him flinch. Connor made himself a little smaller, taking a small step backwards while shaking his head. “Yeah, so you better listen to what I’m saying! No get your ass back down there!”

You didn’t have the heart to watch Connor when he returned to you, to see the defeat and hopeless on his face. The fear.

He had barely sat down again when another turmoil broke loose, gaining everyone’s attention. It had to be the officer Jake had allowed in, though you didn’t want to know what he would get in return for the favour.

Although you didn’t feel much hope regarding the plan, you trusted the police to make the right choice. This couldn’t be their first hostage situation, so they knew what to do, right?

What you hadn’t anticipated was that the officer coming in could be someone you knew. Someone you knew very well.

Jay.

No.

You blinked a few times, but it was unmistakably him.

His voice. His physique.

A touch at your hand drew your attention away from him for a moment and you noticed Monique had reached for it. Only now you saw you had balled your hand into a fist, all the tension left in your body visible in that one grip. Slowly she loosened it, taking your hand into hers instead and squeezing it in reassurance.

You didn’t know the young nurse so well- she was a little more on the reserved and quiet side- but the gesture filled you with deep gratitude, giving you the strength to look up again and face this new reality.

Jay hadn’t noticed you yet, his whole focus on calming Jake enough to make an uneventful entrance. When he seemed confident in the situation he scanned the room, assessing the conditions they were dealing with.

He did it with a professional calmness you wished you could have right now, his face only giving away his emotion when they fell on his brother. “Hey, man. You alright?”

He stepped forward, avoiding any rapid movements and Will nodded. “I’m okay. But Mrs. Kaden is in a bad condition. The stress on top of her physical state worries me.”

He said something else, but he had lowered his voice that it was impossible for you to understand anything. Jay nodded. “What about the two victims?”

“The security guard got hit at the shoulder. He’s stable.” “And the other one?” Will shook his head, his eyes filled with sadness. “She’s over there with Connor. It doesn’t look good, Jay.”

It was strange, listening to them and knowing they were talking about you. Waiting for the moment Jay’s eyes fell upon you.

You didn’t know what kind of reaction you were anticipating, but nothing could have prepared you for the utter shock that filled Jay’s face as he looked at you.

You watched him do a double take, every trace of his confidence and expressionlessness gone, replaced by a turmoil of emotions. He almost lunged forward, stopping himself when Jake’s warning voice filled the air.

You could see Connor’s questioning gaze on you, but you were focused fully on Jay as he made his way over to you with careful movements.

When he crouched down in front of you, he was close enough for you to see a hint of fear in his eyes. “What happened?”

Your petty argument, the distance, it all seemed forgotten as you stared at him, not strong enough to hide your own fear. “I got shot.”

Although it was obvious, it was the first time you had said the words out loud, had acknowledged the fact that this was really happening to you. It felt surreal, even with the burning pain spreading through your body, making it impossible to keep your composure.

Jay’s eyes softened as he heard your husky voice, the effort it took you to form the words another sign how bad your current shape was. For a moment his eyes drifted over your body, his face twisting in pain as he stared at your blood, before he looked up again.

“He said he’s going to kill us if he doesn’t walk out of here with his wife and his kid.” Jay nodded, his lips pressed into a thin line. “I know.”

“But- you’re here now…right?”

“Yeah, I am.” Jay tried to force an encouraging smile on his face, but you knew him well enough to know it was strained.

“You’re here”, you repeated relieved, your voice almost giving up at the end and you coughed. Jay stared at you, his eyes a little widened, his pupils dilated in fear.

He was scared. For you. He was scared for you.

“Her pulse is up to 120 and she’s sweating.” It was Monique and you saw her exchange a look with Connor. “What’s her condition?” Jay was talking to Connor now, as if he had only now realized he was there.

Under different circumstances your brother wouldn’t have let go what had just happened right in front of his eyes. He would have teased you until you would have told him the truth about Jay and you. But now he did, just like that, knowing there was no time for it as yours was running out.

The thought sent another wave of fear through your body, but with the hot pain and the growing weakness you felt too overwhelmed to do anything about it. So you tried to focus on the feeling of Monique’s hand holding yours, on Jay’s closeness and your brother’s words.

“The bullet likely caused internal bleeding. She’s losing too much blood.” Connor almost ran a hand over his face like he always did when he was stressed, stopping himself when he saw your blood on his hands.

“What do you need?”

“I need an OR. I need to find the bleeding and stop it.” His voice was a mix of desperation and determination and Jay listened intensely. His mask of professionalism was back in place, the sight having something grounding to it in the midst of this chaos, but you could detect a few flaws where his emotions threatened to pour in.

“I’m here to negotiate”, he began, eyes cast towards Jake, continuing lowly, “but really I think this will take a different ending.”

You wanted to ask him what that meant, but it seemed too difficult and you were forced to watch him get up instead. As Connor tried to get up too you tried to catch his wrist. You failed, but the movement still let him pause.

“Don’t go, please”, you whispered, your body shaking. You wished you could stop it, but you had lost all control over it, and when had it become so cold?

You felt Jay’s eyes on you as Connor leaned down to you, placing his hands on the sides of your face. “You’re sweating and your pulse is way up. Your skin is ice cold and you’re pale. I don’t need to tell you what that means. We need to do something now.”

You felt tears run down your cheeks as you tried to shake your head, silently pleading him to stay. He had already risked it with Jake once. What would he do when Connor tried it again and this time he wouldn’t give up?

“I’m coming back.” Connor stroked your cheek once before pressing a kiss against your forehead. Then he was gone, his touch only a faint memory as your head sank back against the wall.

As the two walked away from you they blurred into nothing more than silhouettes. Muffled voices filled your ears, but they were too drowned out for you to understand anything. Monique was speaking to you too, the level of her tone indicating she was saying something to soothe you, but her words never reached you either.

A part of you wanted to pass out. As much as you wanted to know what happened, with Connor and Jay not by your side any longer all your fight had left you. The pain felt unbearable now, as if someone had lit your body on fire and the flames were eating at you, slowly burning you alive.

Your throat was closing and it was getting hard to breathe. Every once in a while you choked on air, raspy coughs escaping your mouth. And it was so cold. Colder than the winter in Chicago.

The last sound you heard before the darkness finally swallowed you was a gunshot.

The first thing you felt when you woke was the heaviness of your body, as if an invisible weight had been placed upon you.

You could hear the steady beeping of a monitor, the sound having something reassuring to it. You listened to it for a while, too tired to pull yourself out of the haze yet.

But then the events of the day came crashing back to you, the image of Jay and Connor both leaving your side to get Jake to let them save you. The sound of a gun going off.

You blinked your eyes open, your vision only slowly clearing. But eventually it sharpened, revealing the inside of a hospital room.

You weren’t surprised at the sight, but you still paused when you took in the IV you were hooked upon. “Look who’s awake.”

Turning your head you found April at the door, a smile on her lips. But you could see it wasn’t as effortless as usual and you wondered where she had been when all of it had happened.

Had she gotten out, left to wonder about Ethan’s and everyone else’s wellbeing? Or had she been hiding in one of the other patient rooms?

“How are you feeling?” She stepped into the room, beginning her check-up on you. You let her do it, squinting when she shone a bright light in your eyes. “I’ve felt better before”, you answered truthfully, growing slightly more aware or the pressure in your abdomen.

At least it didn’t hurt yet. You didn’t want to think of the moment the pain meds would wear off.

“Where’s my brother?” April had finished her tests, squeezing your hand. “He’s still in the hospital. I told him to go home and get some rest, but he insisted on staying.”

April shook her head, clearly disapproving of your brother’s choices. “But I did get him to take a shower. He should be in the on-call rooms right now. Do you want me to go and get him?”

You thought about it for a moment. “No, let him sleep. It’s been a hell of a day for him too.”

April nodded, a small smile on her lips. “What about detective Halstead? Do you want me to send him home too?”

You stared at her in surprise. “He’s still here? Wait- how much time passed?”

“5 hours. And yes, he’s here. Actually, he just got himself a coffee. I might have forgotten to mention how disgusting the one from the vending machine is.”

“You’re evil.” You narrowed your eyes at her, chuckling. April shrugged. “Can’t have anyone know our secrets. So what is it with you and the other Halstead. Is he the one you’ve been texting this whole time?”

You hesitated, ready to deny her words, because you were used to keeping it a secret. But you weren’t sure that was possible after today, and honestly it all seemed so unimportant know that you had almost lost your life.

“We were. But things are kind of- complicated between us so I’m not sure where we’re standing.”

“Well”, April walked towards the door, a smile on her lips, “whatever it is it can’t be so serious. You should have seen the way he looked at you when you came out of surgery.”

Your chest tightened as a wave of emotions flooded you. “He really stayed for me?”

April grinned. “He might have claimed there to be paperwork at first. And then that he wanted to look after his brother. But Will went home hours ago and guess who spend the whole time of your surgery pacing the waiting room.”

April winked at you. “I’m going to search for Ethan now. I wanted to wait for you to wake up before leaving.”

Warmth filled you and you had to blink away the tears, touched by everyone’s concern for you. But the mention of Ethan’s name had also reminded you that you hadn’t been the only one hurt today.

“Is everyone okay? The security guard, did he make it?”

“Oh yeah, we’re all okay.” Before she could say another word someone else appeared in the doorway and April left, a knowing smile on her lips.

“Hey.” You didn’t think you had ever heard Jay speak so softly. It made you want to pull him close and snuggle up beside him, be safe in his arms and forget everything else.

“Hey”, you said, trying to sit up a little, but realizing it was a pointless mission.

You supressed a grin when you noticed the coffee cup in his hand, but Jay had followed your gaze, lifting it up. “That’s the worst coffee I’ve ever had”, he declared, “and we’ve only got a new machine at the precinct last year.”

You chuckled lightly. “We have the good one hidden in the break room. But don’t tell anyone I’ve told you that.”

Jay grinned. “Your secret’s safe with me.” Pulling a chair to your bedside and setting his cup on the nightstand he sat next to you, his eyes flickering over your face.

“I prefer when I am the one taking the bullet.”

He smiled, but it was a sad smile, the stress from the past hours visible on his face. “What can I say? You made it seem so effortless.”

But Jay didn’t seem amused, his eyes heavy. “When I heard about the hostage situation, I hoped you weren’t on shift. I called you, but you didn’t pick up.” He blew out a breath.

“And my brother didn’t either so-” He ran a hand over his face. “It’s why I needed to be the one going in. I needed to know if you were okay.”

“And they let you?” Although you knew they had, you were surprised Jay had been chosen. You didn’t doubt his capability as a cop, but just like you weren’t allowed to be on a personal case you had believed Jay’s involvement would have been a red flag as well.

“Not at first, no. But I was very convincing. And Voight’s not too strict about the rules anyway.”

You didn’t want to imagine the length Jay might have gone to, to get what he wanted. Especially with Voight, who didn’t appreciate anyone speaking up against him or acting out of line.

You stirred a little, your body beginning to ache. “What happened after I passed out?”

Jay’s brows drew together and you could see the graveness in his eyes. “He wouldn’t let you go.” His jaw hardened. “Like I said, negotiations didn’t work with him.”

“Does that mean…-”, you trailed of, your heart heavy. Jay gritted his teeth. “Our backup plan was for me to lead him somewhere the squat team could take the shot.”

“So he’s dead now?” You didn’t know what to feel when Jay nodded his head once. Certainly not regret, not after what he had done, but there was no relief either. Instead you just felt numb, like the turmoil of emotions you had experienced in the past hours had left you completely empty.

“And the mother and her kid?” “They are okay.” Jay seemed as relieved to deliver those news as you felt and for the first you truly allowed yourself to take a big exhale. “As okay as they can be under these circumstances.”

“How could he even walk in with a gun?” You shook your head in disbelief, wishing for answers you know you would never get. “The hospital’s head launched an investigation”, Jay told you and you imagined the stress Dr. Goodwin must be facing even now that it was over.

“That’s good I guess”, you muttered. “Yeah.” But Jay seemed somewhere else with his thoughts and for a moment you feared he would go back to being distanced towards you.

But to your surprise he leaned forward, his hand almost touching yours on the bed. “What happened?”

You scrunched up your nose in confusion. “To you. What happened to you? How did you get shot?”

You took a deep breath, knowing you would have to face that question again once Connor was up. He would be upset, but as much as you regretted your action, wished things had gone differently, you couldn’t say it had been a mistake. Not if you had prevented something worse, like a bullet hitting your brother.

“It all happened so fast.” You closed your eyes, trying to recall the moment. But your memories were hazy, the images blurry, only in fragments.

“I saw Connor coming out of a patient’s room and he- he couldn’t see the gun. Jake would have shot him. He- I- I had to do something.”

When you opened your eyes again you saw Jay’s green eyes staring intensely at you, his brows furrowed deeply.

A shadow covered his face, but it vanished before you could ask about it.

“So you’d rather get yourself killed?” It sounded a little accusing and your face fell, anger filling you. “Don’t you think I know that now? But you would have done the same for Will. I know you would have.”

Jay shifted. “That’s different”, he said, but you tilted your head at him. “I’m too tired for that conversation.”

Jay looked hurt and disappointed, but you didn’t regret your words. You couldn’t take his arguments now, not now when you were still coming to terms with the reality that you had almost lost your life.

“I didn’t know you were so selfless. I mean-”, Jay rubbed the back of his head, “I knew, because of your job and how you treat your patients, but taking a bullet for someone else? I didn’t know you were a hero.”

He was smiling now, trying to loosen the atmosphere, but this words had the opposite effect on you. “I’m not”, you said quietly. “I didn’t even mean to do that. My body just- reacted. That’s not bravery or selflessness.”

This time Jay touched your hand, the unexpected gesture drawing your attention back to him. “It’s always an instinct. It happens too quickly for anyone to make a conscious decision. It can be a reflex and still be brave. Because you didn’t hesitate.”

You hadn’t thought of it like that before and you started at him, your thoughts swirling in your brain as the desire to be close to him clouded your mind once more.

“Does it ever get easier?” You blinked, a little scared to be so vulnerable in front of him. “On tv they are fine after that. They are so cool about it. But what if I’m not fine? What if that was probably the worst thing that ever happened to me and I’m so scared?”

You bit your lip, forcing back the tears. But the truth was you weren’t ready to die yet. And coming so close to death had left its marks on you. You could feel it everywhere, as you gazed around the room, took in all the sensations you could feel, looked at Jay beside you. It was all so much.

“Hey.” Jay squeezed your hand. “That’s acting. It’s fake. You almost died. You’re not supposed to be fine right now.”

A tear escaped your eye and you wiped at it, trying not to be furious at yourself for losing your composure in front of Jay. “I don’t know how you do it. Getting shot at and still running towards danger and not away.”

Jay seemed sheepish out of a sudden, no hint of his usual confidence and wit. “It’s my job. Just like I could never do what you do.” You felt yourself smile a little, his recognition making you feel a little less small in the hospital bed. “And sometimes there are- things that happen on this job that you don’t just get over. We all have things we’re dealing with. Even I.”

Now you squeezed his hand, trying to show him you were there if he ever needed to talk to someone. Jay looked at you with gratitude in his eyes. He understood, even without words.

Silence settled in, but it didn’t feel uncomfortable. There came no pressure to come up with something to say, no need to say anything at all and you could see it was the same for Jay, his thoughts drifting.

“So Connor huh?”

You hadn’t expected the question, drawing your brows together. “What?”

Jay licked his lips, inhaling. “I saw you two together. And then today-”, he trailed off, gazing to the side as he collected himself.

“I don’t know what you saw-”, you began, but Jay raised a hand. “Don’t deny it. I’m not blind. It’s obvious how much you care for each other.”

You started at him, rendered speechless as you tried to imagine what he could have seen. But it didn’t matter, because Jay was- “You’re jealous!”

He twisted in his chair, pulling his hand away. “I’m not jealous”, he said, but you shook your head, grinning. “Yes, you are.”

Annoyance flashed over his face. “I just don’t like to be played with.” Your smile faded a little, but the relief you felt only grew as your slowly began to piece it all together.

“That’s why you acted so cold towards me out of a sudden. You saw me and Connor and you thought-” You almost let out a laugh, only suppressing it as you took in Jay’s unamused expression.

“Well detective Halstead, Connor is my brother.”

You watched with delight how his face turned into confusion, surprise and then hope. “He’s your brother”, he repeated in disbelief and you nodded. “I told you I came to Chicago, because I have family here.”

Jay let out a groan, the previous tension melting from his body as your words sank in. “But Will-”, he paused, clearly rethinking something his brother had said to him, “that bastard. When I saw you together I asked him about you and he warned me not to try anything, because of Connor. He never thought to mention once that he’s your brother.”

“You asked Will about me?”

Jay narrowed his eyes playfully. “That’s what you’re concerned about?”

You let out a laugh. “Not concerned, no. I just- you asked your brother about me.”

Jay raised his brow. “Why is that so hard to believe? I mean, you asked him about me too.”

Your face flushed. “I did not!”

“Yes, you did!” Jay chuckled, clearly enjoying your embarrassment. “Will told me about it. It’s why he got so suspicious so fast when I brought you up.”

“And then he mentioned Connor and you figured-” “he said that if I tried anything with you I would have to deal with Connor Rhodes. And it’s not like you two have the same last name.”

“Different moms”, you explained and he sighed. “I should have just talked to you, but I got so mad and then I heard you two talk and I just- reacted.”

“You should have”, you agreed, “but I should have been more open with you too.”

“So, let’s try again?”

His voice sounded so soft when he said it you felt yourself melt under the covers. “If you’re ready to deal with Connor Rhodes”, you pointed out playfully and Jay shrugged, his natural confidence back.

“After I helped save your life I’m pretty sure I’m well in with him. Which reminds me, you owe me three times now.”

You rolled your eyes, feeling the tiredness return to your body. Soon enough you would be drifting off again. “It’s twice, considering you cancelled our first date.”

Jay grinned. “Fair enough. But I’m taking you out once you’re out of here.”

You smiled. “I’m counting on it.”

Tags:

PERMANENT

@capkilljoy @fairytalesforever @hamartocado @choke-me-sweet-pea @sleepinginthegarden7 @thenoddingbunny-blog @ttalisa @hallecarey1 @Not-jay-c @sunwardsss @writingrem-blog @the-pink-petite-princess @wanniiieeee @part-time-patronus @unnuevosoltransformalarealidad @theshortegg @not-reptilian @msdrpreist @alisonhepps @hallecarey1 @thatfangirl42 @dustyinkpages @ellabellabus07 @iluvjj @wayward-hunter @sweet-texas-girl @rosie-posie08 @ @olsensnpm @meyocoko @alexxavicry @shhh423 @dumb-fawkin-bitch @jayyeahthatsme @savagemickey03 @alexxavicry @partiallypearl @earthtolottie @gisobsessedwithfanfiction @navs-bhat @AlohaStitch_626 @multi-fandom-lover7667 @xcallmetaniax @esposadomd @halsteadloversworld @girlintheredscarf @randomwriter1021

ONE CHICAGO

@alldaysdreamers @krswrites @oosnapitskat @okiegirl24 @mads-weasley @nyx2021 @human01sposts @wanniiieeee @dustyinkpages @randomwriter1021 @cosmic-psychickitty @smoothdogsgirl @yyourmotherr @luckyladycreator2 @penguins0527 @rippl3s @sande5098 @freyathehuntress @sorry-i-spaced @narnianaos @jtxox01 @captainjoongiekissme @killerrbunnii @randomhoex @mrspeacem1nusone @thesithdiaries @cosmicwintr @fdl305 @insane-fangirl @thaliadoesthingd @crazy4pennywise @morks-watermelon @automaticpeachsong @arialikestea @lanea-1 @hoeshii @multi-fandom-lover7667 @mrsjna @toohighhopes @caroldanverwife @Kanji_Chikara @chsatlntic @halstead-severide-fan @halsteadloversworld @mrspeacem1nusone @durandingers @keabbs @sorry-i-spaced @zizzlekwum @slytherlight @itserickalove

Add yourself to my taglist!

Please let me know what you think :)

425 notes · View notes

tired-teacher-blog · 1 month

Text

Characters : Tattoo artist Aizawa/ Florist fem reader

Featuring : Eri/ Hizashi Yamada/ Nemuri Kayama/ Oboro Shirakumo/ Emi Fukukado

Warnings and Genre : Fluff/ Romance/ Smut and Angst in future chapters/ Multi Chaptered Story

Summary : In a desperate attempt to get closer to the tattoo artist dominating every speck of your brain, you decide to pay him a visit one evening as a client seeking his service. This encounter will prove to be the beginning of something much bigger between you two, but will this new found passion be enough to stand against the difficulties your future holds?

Notes : Loosely inspired by this/ Art below is by the wonderful @/ael-draw who gifted me this gorgeous piece.

Masterlist|Second Masterlist|Third Masterlist

Chapter Count : Part 1 • Part 2 • Part 3 • Part 4 • Part 5 • Part 6 • Part 7 • Part 8 • Part 9 • Part 10 • Part 11

_ "I was so excited today when dad told me you were coming!" little Eri squeals enthusiastically while holding your hand and jumping with every word.

_ "I wouldn't have missed it for the world, we'll have lots of fun right?" you respond with the same level of excitement before picking her up in your arms and twirling her around as lively giggles escaped you both.

_ "Alright don't move, stay like that for a moment." your boyfriend appears with his camera in hand, ready to snap yet another photo of the two of you.

It's a habit of his, capturing moments like this to keep as a memory, and printing them out to frame, and you've grown so used to it that sometimes you strike a pose without waiting for him to ask.

_ "Good job girls, you look beautiful," he smiles dotingly before tucking his camera away and joining you, "dinner is ready." he announces with a smile before planting a soft kiss on his daughter's cheek, and another on your lips, lingering a bit until hearing Eri's playful protests.

You can never explain or understand how, but moments like this, when you're together with them, talking, laughing, playing, without a care in the world, moments like this are what makes you the happiest, so if heaven ever existed, then this is yours.

_ "This tastes so good Shouta, you did wonderful." your eyes widen in surprise as you take your first bite.

_ "That's right dad! Good job." little Eri chimes in with an adorable little giggle lacing her words.

This is shaping up to be a wonderful evening that both you and your boyfriend desperatly needed, especially after the hell you've been in for weeks..

You needn't think of that right now, you will at least have a little peace of mind tonight.

The doorbell suddenly rings once, one loud ding that interrupts your happy chattering and gets you all snapping your heads up in surprise.

_ "I'll see who it is." your boyfriend announces with a smile before setting down his half empty glass of water and standing up to do just that.

Your eyes shift to little Eri who seems uninterested in the newcomer as she carried on with her meal, unlike you who are now wondering who it might be.

It's possible that this is one of his friends, he did take the day off -as did you- to spend it whole with both Eri and yourself, so maybe something happened at work that he needed to learn about.

_ "Oh hello."

That voice, it's strange, yet so familiar, who does it belong to? If only you had the guts to look up and see who's looming over you right now.

_ "So we meet again, flower girl."

There it is, the same condescending tone that's been hunting you for weeks, you know whose it is, but refuse to believe it.

_ "That's enough Emi!"

Only now did you finally lift your head up to see the furious look in your boyfriend's eyes as he glared at the same beautiful woman who visited you a few weeks ago, and whom you wished to never see again.

_ "H.. hi, nice to see you again." you hurriedly stand up and bow to the woman who doesn't reciprocate the gesture.

Her name catches your attention though, Emi.. you could swear you've heard it before, but can't for the life of you remember anything about it.

Aizawa pushes his way between the two of you and gently holds your hands, the frightening expression of earlier is now replaced with a soft one , and it makes you feel secure despite the situation, "would you please take Eri to her room? I'll explain everything later."

You do not question him, and simply nod in approval before extending your hand to a confused Eri, whose innocent eyes kept traveling between the three adults surrounding her..

_ "Aren't you going to ask?" you hear the smirk in her question even with your back facing them both, but you keep a steady step towards Eri's room because you know you weren't the one meant to respond.

Aizawa says nothing too, not before making sure you've disappeared behind Eri's door, and then you hear it:

_ "You tracked her down? What is it you want exactly?" his voice reaches you clearly, even though you aren't in the same room as them anymore.

He sounds furious and it's scary, where did your gentle boyfriend disappear? There is obviously so much you don't know about their past, and the realization is making you feel like a total stranger.

_ "You know exactly what I want so don't play dumb with me! You went ahead and got yourself a little plaything after I entrusted you with our daughter! How could you expose her to that?"

Of course, it's Eri's mother, that's why her name sounded familiar, it's because Shouta had told you about her before.

_ "What's going on? What does that woman want with dad?" Eri's sweet and worried voice brings you back to reality, it isn't the time for self-pity, because this clueless little girl who -by the looks of it- is unaware that she was in the presence of her mother only moments ago, is in need of some reassurance right now, and it's your job to provide.

_ "Oh this is just a grown-ups discussion, it's nothing to worry about sweetie I promise," you bend down to her level and smile through your lie before carrying on, "how about we watch a few more episodes of your favorite show? We can do it on my phone."

_ "Really?! Yes let's do it!" her attention immediately shifts towards the new topic as she starts jumping in excitement, and her innocence melts your heart.

You tuck her in bed and take a seat at the edge of it before handing her your phone and connecting it to her headset, she doesn't need to hear any of the arguments outside, you on the other hand, are understandably restless, but still keep your calm demeanor in front of her..

_ "You can see her whenever you want, I already told you this, but I will never give her up." he sounds more hurt than upset, and it breaks your heart to pieces.

_ "I just.. I don't want to lose either one of you again, Shouta please, can't you give me another chance? If not for me, then at least for our daughter's sake."

Another chance..

Her words felt like acid poured in your ears, and you cannot bring yourself to hear his response.

You press your hands to your ears as your mind turned into a tangled mess, what if he says yes? It would be perfect for all of them actually, especially for little Eri who would finally have her mom around like she deserves, but where would that leave you?

You glance at the sweet girl leaning her head on your shoulder, and wonder if it's your place to be in her room right now when her mother isn't, maybe it was never your place to begin with, you have been longing for somewhere to belong and someone to love until you met him, and it felt perfect, too good to be true in fact, but maybe that's just what it is.. too good to be true.

If there is a way for them to be happy together, then what gives you the right to selfishly take it away?

_ "Hey, did you hear me?" a gentle tap on your arm brings you to your senses, and it's him, smiling sweetly like he always does, but for some reason, this same smile that usually warms up your heart, is now filling you with nothing but dread.

_ "Oh I'm sorry, I didn't see you walk in," you force out a chuckle and turn to check on Eri, only to find her already deep in slumber, "oh look, she's already asleep."

How long have you been out of it anyway? Apparently long enough for Eri to doze off and for your boyfriend to come in unnoticed.

_ "She is," his gaze lingers on the little angel's sprawled frame before shifting to you, "listen, I'm sorry about what happened out there, it's.."

_ "What? No it was nothing, come on," you avoid his eyes and fix Eri's pillow before planting a gentle peck on her temple and taking your phone back, "I just hope everything goes well, so just do whatever's good for Eri."

He doesn't reply, a blank expression on his face as he watches you approaching, and you can almost see the wheels turning in his head.

You grab onto his shirt and lean closer to capture his lips, and he freezes for a second before melting into the kiss..

_ "Shouta, I'll be here for as long as you'll have me." you had to say those words, even if you're certain that your time together is nearing its end, you -at least- want him to know how much he means to you.

He smiles wearily as his eyes bored into yours, he seems exhausted and clearly reluctant to talk so you don't push it, and instead prepare to leave so he would have a chance to think things over, but he stops you in your tracks with a pleading look on his face before leaning his head on your shoulder.

_ "Please don't go.." is what he heavily breathes out while clutching onto your arms.

Of course you'll stay and be the pillar he desperatly needs, because who knows, maybe this would be the last time you'll have the chance..

To be continued..

39 notes · View notes

violetasteracademic · 2 months

Text

Golden Doe in a Valley of Shadow: Chapter Three (Ao3 Azriel x Elain Fanfic)

Chapter three is finally out, and Elain and Azriel are *finally* alone together to face what happened on Solstice.

I do have all relevant warnings and tags on Ao3, but just a friendly reminder that this is an angst/fluff/smutwithplot romance with some darker themes like self harm, pain with pleasure, and light bondage. We are just now getting a peek into the dynamic between Az and Elain this chapter (thank you guys for being patient and giving the story a chance!) but if any of those themes might be triggering or disturbing to you, now is the time to halt. It is only going to crank up from here on out!

Link to Ao3 on the bottom! Here is a little sneak peak into this next chapter.

Prieview:

Azriel

“You said you didn’t want me,” Elain said as she got to her feet and quickly backed away to the other side of the room.

“I never said that,” Azriel growled, rising to his feet as well.

“You said it was a mistake,” She replied. That icy, distant exterior drawing itself over her again. She kept moving away from him until her back hit the wall. “You said it was a mistake, and then you left. You were just gone. Completely gone. I didn’t hear from you for a week, Azriel, and I thought it would be much longer than that before I did. You made me think that I… that I had gotten things so wrong. I thought I was crazy. And then out of the blue you are asking me to meet you in the middle of the night because... because you’re mine. What is it you expect me to say? Is this just going to be another mistake for you?”

Azriel leaned over her, his forearms nearly shaking with rage and restraint. How could she possibly believe that he didn’t want her? He had never, never lost his temper over her like he had to Rhysand that night. He had been so careful, his mask always in place. But his brother saw right through him. Saw how desperately he needed her. Never in five hundred years had any of his loved ones been able to properly guess at what was going on in his mind.

He had made her feel unwanted. It needed to be rectified immediately. He leaned down to whisper in her ear, “The only mistake was trying to kiss you for the first time in a house full of people who could hear us. Because I wouldn’t have been able to stop, Elain. I would have gotten on my knees in front of you until you were screaming my name loud enough for your mate to hear.”

Azriel’s gaze dripped down Elain’s body. His nostrils flared as he watched her nipples peak through her nightgown. He hardened immediately, and pressed himself between her legs, shucking the flimsy material up her thighs. She gasped, and a flush spread over her skin as she bucked in response, her hands searching for purchase on the wall behind her. Those thin straps keeping her dress up could easily be snapped between his fingers. He ran his nose along her neck, letting his breath travel over her skin. He ground harder into her as he watched goosebumps pebble in the wake of his touch. “Does this feel like I don’t want you, Elain?”

*titters and runs away*

Enjoy, lovelies!

#elriel #elain x azriel #elriel fanfic #spicy elriel fanfic #elriel endgame #pro elriel #pro elain archeron #elain archeron supremacy #azriel x elain

26 notes · View notes

jungk0oksthighs · 2 years

Text

Against The Odds | Best Friend

Pairing - jungkook x reader, taehyung x reader

Genre - smut, angst, fluff, established relationship, ceo!jungkook, ceo!reader, attorney!taehyung

Word count - 2.4k

Drabble 3 - Jungkook and Taehyung have a drink

warnings: swearing, angst, unrequited feelings & stress

FULL SERIES COLLECTION

Jungkook and Taehyung are sitting at their usual booth in Black Swan, five beers into the night when Jungkook decides he can’t take it any longer, furrowing his brows when he nears the end of his drink.

“You know you can tell me anything right…” He settles for a friendlier approach than just asking his best friend outright ‘what the fuck is wrong with you recently?’

Taehyung has been acting…strange of lately. When Jungkook really thinks about it he’s been acting out of the norm for a couple of months now, the once usually bright and bubbly attorney seems almost…sad. It’s like his personality has done a quick one eighty into being an introverted, closed book. Maybe he’s overthinking it – he has been stressed recently what with the constant wedding planning and babysitting of your nephew Charlie. Trying to balance all that with his demanding career has been difficult, but even then he knows that his best friend is hiding something from him.

“Why are you being weird?” Taehyung chuckles, playfully sighing into the vape-clouded air, “If there was something wrong I would tell you man, don’t worry.”

Except Jungkook is worried, very much so. Is it him? Is he talking about the wedding too much? Has he missed something important? The CEO of Jeon Industries is somewhat of an expert at overthinking, he takes pride in being in control that’s arguably one of the reasons he’s so damn good at what he does. But he’s drawing a blank, he has no idea what’s wrong with his best friend he just knows that something isn’t right.

“Sorry if I’ve been talking about the wedding too much…” He clears his throat awkwardly, eyes boring into the other man’s face for any kind of an answer to his silent questions.

Taehyung nods slowly, cocking his head to one side, “Don’t apologise you haven’t been that bad to be fair to you,” His shoulders bounce with silent laughter, “Besides it’s a big deal you getting married…you’re allowed to talk about it. It would be strange if you didn’t.”

“Right…” Jungkook takes a beat, he doesn’t want to pry too much but at the same time this is eating him alive, “But if there’s something going on with you, you can tell me. I feel like all we talk about these days is my life, what’s new with you?”

Taehyung leans back on the leather seat with an exasperated sigh, “I don’t know what to tell you Guk, I’ve been swamped with work recently that’s pretty much it.”

“And work is okay?” He tries again, desperate to get to the bottom of this.

Tae nods in agreement, calling over a nearby shot girl, “Hi darling can we get another round please? And a whiskey each too.”

“Whiskey on a Thursday night…” Jungkook tongues his cheek, now he knows something’s wrong for sure, “None for me thanks, just another beer.” He witnesses the flash of surprise on his best friend features and tries to justify himself, “I don’t wanna go back to the apartment hammered, Charlie is sleeping over.”

“Ahhh… Again.”

“Mmm.”

It’s not that he doesn’t love your nephew because he does, it’s not that he doesn’t want to spend time with him because again he does. It’s just… Jungkook would be lying if he said the way Namjoon is using you as a constant babysitter for his son doesn’t bother him. He understands of course, Charlie needs you, and you need him. But the way your ex-boyfriend expects you to look after him when he’s busy is somewhat…infuriating. He’s learned to bite his tongue though, you’re so stressed out with the wedding and work and practically raising Charlie that he knows if he’s to voice his opinion on the matter it would only upset you - which is the last thing he wants to do.

“Y/N is too caring for her own good sometimes…” Taehyung knocks back the whiskey as though it’s water, both whiskeys that were brought to the table gone in less than ten seconds, “She should just tell Namjoon to fuck off and look after his own son, Charlie isn’t her responsibility.”

“Mmm…” Jungkook nods in agreement because that’s exactly how he feels too, he’s just too afraid to say it out loud, “Yknow at first it didn’t bother me but now it feels like I never see her one on one. Is that selfish of me?”

“Not at all,” Tae is quick to comfort him with a small shake of his head, “Talk to her about it, tell her how you feel before it spirals into something worse...don’t wanna leave it too late.” Taehyung looks away, the Adam’s apple in his throat bobbing.

“I guess…I just don’t want her to think I’m being an asshole about it.”

At this Taehyung makes a noise that can only be described as a scoff and a snort, though he looks unamused, “She’s madly in love with you man, she’d never think that of you.”

“Oh I don’t know…” Jungkook chuckles to himself, awkwardly swirling the beer around the glass bottle.

“Have you guys been fighting or something?” Taehyung’s eyes snap to his best friend, wide with curiosity.

“No, no…we never really fight it’s just-, she’s got a lot on her plate right now with the possibility of Ruth getting out of Cypher and if I—”

“Her sister is getting out of the nut house? Since when?”

Cursing under his breath Jungkook scrunches his eyes shut, “Shit, she asked me not to say anything…fuck, don’t say anything please. I think that’s probably enough alcohol for me.”

“Why did she ask you not to say anything?” Taehyung’s tongue clicks against the roof of his mouth, if Jungkook didn’t know any better he’d say he looks offended by the notion.

“No that’s not what I meant-, well it is… I said to her I could ask you for advice, see if you’ve seen anything similar to her situation in court and ask you what the next steps usually are but she said no. Please don’t say anything to her, I don’t want to upset her.”

“I won’t say anything, it’s not like I really see her much these days anyway.”

“Thanks man… I didn’t realise I was so stressed out about the whole Charlie and Namjoon situation. Sorry for rambling…” A pang of guilt his Jungkook’s chest, you only want to do what’s best for your nephew – he knows that. He just wishes you didn’t let your ex-boyfriend walk all over you in the process.

Taehyung hums in response, “Then let’s stay out tonight? You can always sleep at my place if you get too wasted to go home.”

“Ah I don’t know…”

“You look like you could do with a night off Guk, you said yourself you’re stressed.”

Jungkook exhales with puffed out cheeks, “I am.”

But even though he’s stressed and overwhelmed right now, he doesn’t want to leave you alone for the night with a teething Charlie. When’s your night off? When do you get a break? Between planning the wedding and everything else you’ve been swamped lately, it wouldn’t be fair of him to stay out tonight. Would it? You did go out with Taehyung a few weeks ago… He sighs again, rubbing inked fingers to his temples. Maybe a night out with Taehyung is what he needs? And maybe he’ll finally get to the bottom of what’s been bothering his best friend recently too…

“I’ll stay out on one condition…” Jungkook’s gaze land on Taehyung’s face, “You tell me what’s been bothering you recently.”

“I told you—”

“Bulllllshit! I know something’s wrong with you man, you’ve gone from Mr Party to Debbie Downer. I’m serious what’s up with you? Is it work?”

Taehyung’s lips purse together awkwardly, “No. I uh-, okay… I have this friend going through some shit right now and I guess it’s consumed my life a little. I feel bad for him.”

Kook nods, wanting to understand more about what’s got his bestie so glum, “Who is it?”

“Well it’s not really a friend-, it’s a client. Yeah, a client. So I can’t tell you his details…but, he’s going through it right now and I want to help him, I do, fuck I wish I knew what to do but…it’s just-, his situation is difficult and I don’t know how to help him.”

“What’s his situation? Maybe I can help?” Jungkook hangs on to every word spoken, doe-eyes narrowed and focussed solely on Taehyung.

A humourless, somewhat sad laugh leaves his lips, “You can’t.”

“Try me. C’mon if it’s affecting you this much he’s clearly a good guy and a good friend to you, right? Let me help.”

Taehyung laughs again but this time it sounds more pained, maybe even a little defeated, “Alright but you know I can’t tell you his details, attorney confidentiality and all that.”

“That’s fine.” Jungkook offers a reassuring smile.

“My client…he’s-, well he’s got it bad for this girl. But the girl is strictly off limits to him, never gonna happen not in a million years, right?” Taehyung speaks with his hands emphasising his clients problem, “And he knows that, he’s not delusional he knows that it’s never gonna happen. But he still can’t stop thinking about her, when he sees her it’s like…Fuck, I don’t even know how to describe it.”

“Well how did he describe it?”

An amused puff of air leaves Taehyung’s nostrils, “He said that when he sees her it’s like all logic goes out the window. There’s something about her he just can’t get out of his mind… He knows it’s wrong, he knows it’ll never happen, he knows she’s not into him like that—”

Jungkook cuts him off with a pointed finger, “How does he know it’ll never happen? Has he spoken to her? Maybe he’s just assuming the worst.”

“Nah, she’s with someone else.”

“Oh shit that does change things…” Kook sighs knowingly, fuck, that does sound rough. He can’t even imagine what that must be like…it would be like him having to watch you being happy with someone that’s not him. He shudders at the thought, “But is she happy with this other person?”

Tae’s voice is low and sympathetic, barely audible, “Very.”

Jungkook leans back in his seat, hands roughly gripping his suit-clad thighs, “Well…” He clicks his tongue, not entirely sure where he’s going with this, “Tell him to grow up. If it’s never gonna happen and she’s already in a happy relationship he needs to do the right thing and let it go.”

“He’s tried, he’s been trying to do that for so long…this is what I mean I just don’t know what to do.” Taehyung groans before adding, “To help him. I don’t know what to do to help him.”

Jungkook nods when he sips his beer, sympathising with Tae’s client completely, “The way I see it is…She’s happy with someone else, the games over. Maybe if she wasn’t happy there would be some wiggle room but…if she’s happy, he needs to be a man about it and move on. It’s similar to if Namjoon was still pining after Y/N while she’s with me, yknow? Never gonna happen.”

“Well…it’s not exactly similar, Joon is Y/N’s ex-boyfriend there’s already pre existing feelings involved.” Taehyung cracks his neck, “This guy isn’t an ex of hers.”

“Okay, well for arguments sake then that’s like if… I don’t know, it’s like if you had feelings for Y/N even though she’s with me. Would just be a dick move yknow? Man needs to get over it before he ends up acting on his emotions and jeopardises her happy relationship.”

“He would never act on it—"

“So he’s just going to mope around his whole life and pray that she breaks up with the guy she’s with now?” Jungkook scoffs, “C’mon I feel for the guy yeah, it must be dreadful, but…if he doesn’t want to act on it and knows it’s not plausible in the first place. What’s the point stressing about it? He needs to get a fucking grip.”

Taehyung nods understandingly before his brows pinch together, he sucks in a breath of air before delivering a question that changes everything.

“But what if it was you? For arguments sake…if you had to watch someone you love be with someone else, when all you want to do is get her out of your mind and get over it. What would you do?”

Kook contemplates his answer for a moment, cocking his head to one side, “You didn’t say this guy loved her. That changes things…I’ve only ever loved one woman Tae… and the idea of losing her...” He can’t even imagine what Taehyung’s client is going through, he almost lost you once and it near killed him, “Fuck, you’re right…I can’t help you. Poor guy…”

“So…that’s why I’ve been a little stressed recently.”

“Understandable, guess we should count ourselves lucky that we’re not him.” Jungkook chuckles, calling another waitress to the booth, “Two beers and two whiskeys please, thanks.”

Taehyung grins, Kook is sure that’s the first time he’s seen him genuinely smile in a long time, “You’re staying out?”

“I said I would if you told me what was up, and you did...” Jungkook nods, sliding his phone from his pocket to send you a quick text message telling you not to wait up for him, “I know, I’m a good friend.” He winks. “I just hope Y/N isn’t too mad at me staying out...”

“I’m sure she’ll be fine with it, she’s usually pretty understanding.” Tae nods slowly and knowingly.

Jungkook smiles contently, “Yeah. I’m a lucky guy.”

“Very.”

359 notes · View notes

winchester-girl67 · 2 years

Text

Don’t Say A Word (Part 15)

Summary: With her identity revealed, Dean and Y/N become desperate to escape. Hopefully, Sam and backup aren't too far behind.

Masterlist

Pairing: Bodyguard!Dean x reader

Word Count: 1,289

Warnings: language, angst, arguing, violence & blood (gun/knife), injuried!Dean, injury, scary situation, mature themes, slow burn, fluff if you squint

A/N: Enjoy while I run away… *looks for a place to hide*

_____

Dick Roman stood in the doorway of the ensuite, a gun in his hand at his hip aimlessly pointed at Dean. You knew Dean had his silver handgun, you felt it tucked into the back of his jeans, but that didn't make it any easier for him to draw it without getting the both of you killed.

"I thought you said Sam was taking care of him.” You snapped at Dean, scrunching up your face.

“He was.” Dean said, his green eyes still trained on Dick.

“Doesn’t look like he was.”

"Is this going to be my fault too?" He asked, side eyeing you as if you'd gotten past this bickering stage of your relationship.

"Probably, I told you we should've run." You huffed as if to say I told you so.

"No, you didn't." Dean said, mirroring your glare with an added shake of his head.

"I said, 'this isn't really the place or time' and ‘shouldn’t we run’.” You repeated what you'd said earlier when he first started kissing you.

"That's not the same thing, Y/N." He argued, but you saw something other than anger hidden in his eyes. You thought it looked a hell of a lot like fear, but Dean wasn't the type, right?

You were starting to feel anxious.

"Would you two shut up!" Dick snapped, pinching the bridge of his nose and lowering his gun for a moment. "If all you two do is bicker, then why the hell are you even together?"

"We might have a couple of issues, but we're working on it, Dick." You said, Dean making a move and rushing at him while he was distracted by your little squabble.

Dick pulled the trigger just as Dean grabbed his wrist, the gun firing off a couple of rounds that hit the mirror behind you. You screamed and jumped off the counter as shards of glass rained down onto the floor, skidding across the tiles. You jumped again when another bullet hit the glass of the shower behind you, but it didn't shatter this time and you stood frozen in place, watching the struggle.

"Y/N, run!" Dean shouted, finally wrestling the gun away from Dick. But in the struggle it slid out of reach of both men and onto the bathroom floor.

"I'm not leaving you, Dean." You yelled back, grabbing the gun from where it lodged behind the toilet.

"For fuck's sakes, Y/N. If there was ever a time for you to listen to me, it's now." Dean cursed, struggling to restrain Dick who took advantage of his distraction with you and elbowed him in the gut.

"Tough," you said, trying to aim the gun at Dick. But they kept rolling and fighting for purchase, and you couldn't get a clear shot. "Stop moving!"

Dean blocked your aim when he finally pinned him and reached for his own gun. Dick took the opportunity to pull something from his pocket, though you couldn't see what it was.

"Go get Sam." Dean barked an order back at you, pulling his gun free. He let out a huff when Dick jabbed him in the stomach with what you thought was his fist. "Now, Y/N!"

Dean seemed to be stunned, but only for a moment and then he shoved Dick away, training his gun on him before he could make another move. Dick glared at Dean with dark eyes, knowing better than to test his trigger finger.

"Y/N," Dean said, side-eyeing you. "I'm fine, go."

If you didn't know any better you'd say that last jab Dean took to the gut left him breathless. But Dean could handle his own and you were sure he was fine, you just needed to get him some backup. Dick was sneaky and didn't strike you as the type to fight fair, so you didn't want to give him time to figure out another play.

"Okay, okay." You conceded, maneuvering around him and giving him one last glance before rushing out into the hall.

You ran directly into a man dressed in a Fed swat suit with a name tag that read 'Novak' and dragged him back with you into the room. Novak took Dick's gun from you and tucked it into his waistband, then entered the ensuite where Dean still had Dick at gunpoint.

Dean rested against the wall in the bedroom, giving Novak the space he needed to restrain Dick Roman and direct him out towards his team. They made their way down the hall and you heard Sam stop them to read Dick his rights. He instructed Novak to personally watch over him and then you turned your focus back to Dean.

You watched him, still in the bedroom that was to be 'yours'. He didn't move from his spot on the wall and you inched closer until he raised his gaze from his shoes to meet the worry in your eyes. He seemed distant, but smiled at you just the same.

"Are you alright?" You asked, returning a weak smile. You wanted to close the space between you but your nerves kept you from doing so.

"Always, sweetheart." He gulped visibly, but you didn't think anything of it. "You?"

"Uh-huh," you nodded. "Do you know what the first thing I'm gonna do is, when this is all over? I'm gonna move out of Auburn's." You said, finally getting the push you needed to move out on your own.

Sure it was easier to afford the cost of living with a roommate, but it also proved better for your health if you didn't have one. At least, not a famous one with similar features that you were easily confused for.

"I'll help you apartment shop. Maybe I'll even rough up a couple of landlords, see if I can't get you a lesser rent." He joked breathily, leaning further back against the wall.

"I'd like that," you smiled at the idea.

"Then it's a date." Dean said with a forced smile on his strained features.

He let out a shaky exhale that shuddered through his muscles and that's when you noticed he was holding his side. Something was wrong with him.

"You're so stupid," Dean said breathlessly without any forcefulness almost as if he found it endearing, if you didn’t know him better.

"Excuse me," you said with your hands on your hips as if you were expecting another fight.

"You didn't listen." He winced and gripped his side tighter. "You never listen."

"I couldn't leave you. You wouldn't have left me." You argued, your annoyance turning to worry again when you noticed he wasn't acting like himself.

"Come here," Dean said, his breathing shallow and rapid.

"Why?" You hesitated, thinking he might be mad at you for not following his orders like a good little soldier.

"Just, come here. Please," he beckoned you, curling a finger with his other hand and you stepped forward. "Closer... Closer, sweetheart."

You stepped within his reach and he tugged you to his chest, wrapping one arm around you and holding you close. It took a second for those butterflies to return and you molded yourself against him. Dean breathing in your hair and shaking slightly.

“Are you okay?” He asked before you could and you nodded against his shoulder. “Good. That’s all that matters.”

He sounded odd and he winced when you tried to push away with your hand on his stomach. Something was very wrong. A warm sticky substance soaking into the waffle knit of your shirt sleeve when your hand met his, still holding his side.

You gently separated yourself from him, looking down at the crimson staining your fingers and then back up to him. Eyes wide with shock at the blood staining your hand.

_________________________

A/N: Read part 16 here

_________________________   Dean/Jensen: @akshi8278 @laycblack @thoughts-and-funnies @mrsjenniferwinchester @crustycheeks @kazsrm67 @sexyvixen7 @lyarr24 @suckitands33 @eliwinchester99 @yvonneeeee @igotmajordaddyissues @djs8891

Forever SPN: @hobby27

Don't Say A Word: @lacilou @mlovesstories @spn730015 @hunni-bunny @ria132love @fmstafford @spideysimpossiblegirl @houseforwhores @siospins2 @globetrotter28 @nt-multi-fandom @maggiegirl17 @iprobablyshipit91 @tigergirllolipop @stoneyggirl2 @mimaria420 @muhahaha303

117 notes · View notes

jungkxook · 4 years

Text

—stay. (m)

⟶ pairing: jungkook x reader

⟶ genre: popstar!jungkook x groupie!reader + smut / sprinkle of angst and fluff

⟶ words: 8,083

⟶ rating: 18+

⟶ summary: jungkook wasn’t always so madly in love with you but the fact that you’re sleeping with two of his band mates too makes things a tad bit complicated.

⟶ warnings: multiple smut scenes, slight dom themes, oral sex, finger sucking oops, boob fondling, hair pulling ft. jungkook’s undercut, doggy style, missionary, thigh riding, spitting, jealous kook!!, unprotected sex, kind of slight possessive themes? but also just general sweetness tbh

⟶ disclaimer: my time jungkook still has me in my feels! also, this is a repost of an old fic on an old blog.

“Stay with me?”

Jungkook asks this hopefully, of course, but he already knows the answer. It’s just that, lying there with you on the hotel room bed, there’s no other place he’d rather be ━ and there’s no one else he’d rather experience the moment with than you. Legs tangled together on top of the duvet with your fingers tracing circles onto his bare chest, Jungkook swears he’s in love with you ━ only, you’re not his to have.

“I have to go,” You pout, though your fingers continue drawing constellations on his skin, treading down his arm and over the tattoos that adorn him. You’re focusing now on the lily on his forearm, around and around, sending his head spiralling. “Promised my friends we could hang out today. Besides, don’t you have Mina or Nina━” You wave your hand in the air to dismiss the thought━ “coming over soon?”

“Who?” It takes him a moment to even remember who you’re talking about. Truthfully, he hasn’t seen that girl in well over six months but he’d never tell you that. In fact, he hasn’t been seeing anyone else other than you but he would definitely never tell you that. “Oh, yeah. Well, I think she’s coming over later tonight.”

“Well━” You trail off, and Jungkook knows it’s because you’re stalling. You want to stay, and he knows it well enough, but every question you ask him is just meant to further reassure you that it’s okay if you stay. That he wants you to. “Aren’t you busy with work today before the second show?”

Jungkook shrugs. “We still have lots of time before the day starts.”

You shake your head at him but he knows he ultimately wins out when you start to smile to yourself. You prop yourself up beside him and he has to admire momentarily how you’ve never been timid in front of him when you’re naked. His hand reaches out to brush his fingers against your cheek and you smile down at him. But then something seems to dawn on him that he can’t believe he foolishly hadn’t thought of first.

“Unless… Unless you need to see one of them soon.”

“Who?”

“Taehyung or Namjoon.” It takes all he can muster to say their names without a trace of bitterness. He lifts himself up on his elbow. “Are you still seeing them?”

You shrug innocently. Sitting up a little straighter, you brush his hand away and fidget with your hair. “Would it matter if I was?”

Yes, he wants to scream but he refrains. “No. I just━” he stops. “Just curious. Is that what you meant by work then? You have to go see Tae or something right after me? ”

“No, you prick.” He’s relieved you giggle at him, fingers poking at his chest despite the fact that he was mentally cursing himself for being a dick the minute the words left his mouth. “Believe it or not, I do have a life outside of sex. Friends, too.”

“I know, I know,” he says sheepishly. “Sorry, I━ I know. You said you wanted to go shopping downtown before the show tonight, right? One of your friends ━ Dahyun ━ goes to school in the next city over and she’s taking the day off to see you. I do listen when you talk, y’know?”

He doesn’t miss the warm smile that spreads across your face. You finally return to him, kissing him slow and steadily. In the meantime, he flips you over onto your back and then parts from you much to your dismay. He’s nestled himself between your legs in an instant, kissing up your thigh and sending shivers down your spin. Your hand flies down to twine your fingers in his hair, now much longer than usual.

“I guess I could stay a little longer, if you’d want me to,” You say.

“I do.”

He wastes no time in swiping his tongue at your folds, his mouth wrapping perfectly around you. You’re already mewling with delight. That’s all it ever is with the two of you. Sex and more sex. And while Jungkook isn’t complaining, he sure does wish he could just have more of you. Jungkook burrows a little deeper, his nose rubbing against your clit as he eats you out.

“Morning sex does sound nice,” You manage to say, breath shaking.

“Yeah,” he rasps against you. “It does, doesn’t it?”

Your thighs are already threatening to squeeze shut around his head, fingers tightening in their hold. His own hands find purchase on your waist, stretching outward to hold on to you, and nothing can break you both apart. Not even the muffled sound of rapid knocking on the front door of the too grand hotel room. At least, not the first two times. On the third time when it’s followed by the sound of Jungkook’s manager irritably calling out through the flimsy wood panel, does Jungkook groan into your cunt and poke his head upward, craning his neck to look over his shoulder as his manager’s voice carries infuriatingly loudly to you both once again.

“Get up already, will you? We’ve got several business meetings to conduct today and we haven’t got time for you to sleep off a hangover or whatever it is you’re doing━”

“Gimme ‘til noon!” Jungkook asserts gruffly. He settles himself back between your thighs, and you surely don’t miss the devious way he smirks just before burrowing his head into your heat. There’s an inaudible sound that he makes, that you and certainly his manager can distinguish as being, “I’m too busy right now.”

Busy is an understatement, pointedly made clear when his tongue delves into you, lapping at your leaking wetness as if he were terribly quenched and only you could save him. You don’t think Jungkook taking his morning to eat you out is a good enough excuse that will run over well with his manager later in the day, but it drives him away for now with only a grumbled chorus of words left in his wake. But the silence only lasts for so long. Just as Jungkook is getting comfortable once more, you speak up.

“I don’t think tardiness is a very good quality to have as a celebrity,” You ponder aloud through a heavily pleased sigh.

“Ah, or it’s exactly the thing I need,” he counters with a shit-eating grin. “Being late is a very celebrity thing, isn’t it?”

“When the fame gets to their head,” You snort. Your voice splinters off into a whimper as he tilts his chin up a little higher, lapping deeper into you.

“Then I guess I’m bad.” His voice murmurs against you, rattling you to the bone.

“You’re definitely far from bad. Everyone thinks you’re an angel.”

“Wonder if they’d think the same thing if they saw me now━” He pinches lightly at the inside of your thigh, “head between your legs, and you coming on my tongue.”

You roll your eyes, but your wittiness falls short when he tugs with his teeth at your folds. Your back arches off the bed at once, hips pressing harder against his face.

“Namjoon called last night,” You say. No, you don’t say it. You moan it and even though Jungkook knows it’s because of him and how he’s making you feel in that moment, he still hates hearing someone else’s name roll off the tip of your tongue that isn’t his. “If you must know. Said he wanted to see me in the morning━”

Jungkook grimaces. He grunts shortly, “Guess you’re gonna have to let him down.”

“I’m sure Joon will love that━”

“Don’t,” he hisses. He bites down a little harshly on the inside of your thigh but you don’t mind. When he glances up to look at you, his stare is dark and hooded. “Don’t say their names. Not now. Please.”

You almost miss the desperation in his voice, the way he almost whines his words. You don’t ask, even though you’re curious. You don’t ask, even when he eats you out that morning until he’s made sure you’re crying his name and nothing else. You don’t ask, even when fucks you slow and deep and measured and almost, dare you say, loving like he never has before, clinging onto you as if he can’t live without you. You don’t ask, even when he may get a little rough (just how you like it), as if he’s afraid you’ll leave him right then and there. You don’t even ask when he sucks not one but two hickeys on your neck, large enough for anyone to see. For Taehyung and Namjoon to see.

You never really do ask, even though you notice things have become different.

It’s not as if you haven’t always been close to one another. There are more times than not in which you both physically can’t keep your hands off of one another in public, though in the safest and simplest ways possible. It’s there, in the way you sit next to him with your legs crossed regally on the couch in the green room backstage before a set, playing with the rings on his fingers on the hand resting on your shoulder; there, in the way you sit draped across his lap, leaning into his chest, in the studio as they blur through recordings. When you give advice on composing or lyric writing, Jungkook listens. When you giggle into his ear and whisper lewd things when you probably shouldn’t in the middle of a party with important business men and other celebrities, Jungkook is captivated.

It wasn’t always supposed to be like this. Jungkook wasn’t always so madly in love with you, but he always knew there was something about you he just could not get enough of. You had chosen him first, approaching him late one night at a bar, and he was instantly head-over-heels. Even if it was mutually agreed upon ━ and oftentimes never really outwardly mentioned ━ that you could sleep around with him, Namjoon, and Taehyung, then Jungkook would have to deal with it. He would do anything, if it meant getting to see you more. At first he didn’t even mind. What was one more groupie to the ever growing list he had already accumulated? He’s never gotten feelings for any of them, so surely he thought he would be okay with you; that maybe whatever he was feeling for you would go away.

He couldn’t have been more wrong.

After he asks you the question the first time, he finds himself stuck in a greedy months-long habit of asking you wistfully every time he finds you in his bed. He asks it a thousand and one times, but only ever gets one response from you. You’ll say no, that you have to leave, and sometimes you will. But sometimes ━ sometimes when he knows he wins out because he knows you let your guard down long enough to become besotted by him, a tangible mess with his every touch ━ you’ll linger just a little longer and the notion alone is enough to instill a sense of hope in Jungkook even if he knows it’s wrong.

And maybe you shouldn’t play along. Then again, he takes all your time and you devote what little you have left afterward to him anyway, pretending that you’re still seeing Taehyung and Namjoon when you’re certainly not.

Sometimes Jungkook catches you when he doesn’t mean to, or isn’t expecting to, and it’s all different moments that physically pain him. Sometimes those moments come from paying one of the guys a visit and stumbling upon you there, too.

After having not seen you for the whole day, and just before the concert begins, Jungkook is called over to Namjoon’s room within the hotel to discuss some last minute changes to the show (which Jungkook’s positive he would have heard about if he hadn’t ignored his manager early in the morning). Only Namjoon doesn’t answer the door when Jungkook arrives. There’s a crescendo of giggling on the other side of the threshold and then it’s you, and you’re standing there wearing nothing but a baggy shirt of Namjoon’s that barely covers your bum (and shorts too, he thinks, but Jungkook’s much too focused now on you in Namjoon’s shirt). Namjoon’s standing a bit further back, leaning against the wall of the hallway without a shirt on and he’s grinning at something that’s just happened.

“Took you long enough,” Namjoon calls out. “Come in, we’ll get started. I’ll just be right back━ Just hopped out of the shower━” And then he disappears into another room, most likely to find another shirt that isn’t taken by you.

“Jungkook!” You greet him so cheerfully, as if the sight of you half naked in another man’s home isn’t eating away at Jungkook. You pull him into a hug that’s so tight he can smell your familiar perfume and probably Namjoon’s lingering scent if he focuses hard enough. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” Jungkook says. He doesn’t mean for his voice to sound so standoffish. He hopes you don’t notice. “You’re back early.”

“Yeah. The girls had to leave but that’s okay.” You’re smiling so bright and wide that it almost hurts. “Namjoon━”

“Wanted to see you?” Jungkook finishes for you, remembering your words earlier in the day.

“Yeah━” You’re rambling on now but Jungkook isn’t listening. The pain is still lingering and it leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. He knows it isn’t right but he can’t be bothered to care. In that moment, he realizes he’d rather be anywhere but there and he’s never felt that way before.

“Uh━ You know what?” He cringes slightly when he interrupts you. “Forgot I had to do something actually. Mina called earlier ━ said she wanted to talk or whatever.”

Your face immediately drops at the mention of the other girl and it pains him even more to know that you don’t see through his blatant lie. What’s worse is that Mina had called him the night before, but he had turned her down promptly before she could even say what she wanted.

You glance over your shoulder fleetingly as if to look for Namjoon, teeth sinking into the soft flesh of your lower lip. “But I thought you needed to talk with Joon about the show?”

“Can’t, sorry. Tell Namjoon he can do whatever he wants. I don’t care. Seems like he’s got his hands full with you here anyway.”

He hates himself for it ━ he hates how petty he can be, how rude he can sound without truly meaning it ━ but before he can explain himself or apologize in a way that would probably make him look even more like an idiot, he turns his back to you. It’s the first time he’s really ever done something like that. Usually, he puts up with it ━ with you draped over Namjoon’s lap or Taehyung’s hand on your waist because usually he hadn’t always had feelings for you.

Truth be told, Jungkook doesn’t know how Namjoon or Taehyung feel about “sharing” you. He doesn’t even know how you feel about it or if you’ve noticed Jungkook’s short temper lately. He tries to contain it but he can’t and he hates how he’s become when he’s not alone with you. Lately, he’s started to think that maybe this isn’t right anymore. Maybe he shouldn’t keep meeting up with you if he’s going to feel this way all the time, and it wasn’t fair to you for him to be sulking so much. He’s not supposed to be in love. He’s supposed to be having fun.

After all, that’s what it was to you, wasn’t it?

But that night something happens.

Jungkook only notices you half an hour into the show later that night even despite the fact that you’re in the same place that you always are, standing on the side in the part of the pit closest to the stage where only family and close friends are allowed to stay. Of course you’re dancing along, just like you always do, and of course you’re watching him and the rest of the boys with starry eyes, just how he loves. You smiled wide at some point when his gaze locked with yours ━ him, drenched in sweat and nearing exhaustion, and you, face-flushed and looking as if you’re having the time of your life.

But that’s the thing about you ━ you’re not like the others. Sure, your eyes tend to drift to him more often than not and linger on him longer than necessary but you don’t just come for him. You live for the music, admire the rest of the boys that have treated him so dearly and make the group what it is.

And the way he performs ━ you wonder if he purposely exerts himself more because he wants you to only focus on him. Every rough thrust of his hips, every time he grabs at his crotch, dark and hooded eyes meets yours and you know he’s trying to tease you. Trying to make you suffer.

Later, when the concert is finished and you’re at a private room in a club with the boys to celebrate the evening and Jungkook has had one too many shots, he finds you at the bar. He sidles up from behind you, one palm sliding onto the small of your back. You know it’s him even before you look, judging by the familiar stature of his chest pressing against your body, and his usual scent. His lips press to the crook of your neck and your lips unfurl into a smile. You reach up blindly to grab at the nape of his neck as he starts to sway against you to the beat of the music, hips digging into your ass.

“I’ve been dying to be next to you all night.” He whispers this into the shell of your ear and you wonder vaguely how you’ve maintained enough self-control to not drop to your knees and suck him off then and there. Even worse is the fact that he’s still adorned in the makeup from the concert. Your fingers scratch at one of the newly shaved sides of his head, the rest of his long locks only maintain some of its original style pushed back and off his forehead, though now messily mused as it splays out on either side of his head and threatens to hide the undercut once more.

“You’re drunk,” You point out. He doesn’t seem to register the fact that you only point it out because otherwise, if he wasn’t so smashed, you aren’t quite sure he’d even be touching you the way he is now after the way he’s been acting lately.

“So are you,” Jungkook hums. “Let’s get out of here?”

And you can’t possibly say no.

He thinks it’s a shame, really, because you had looked quite pretty that night wearing a velvet red dress. Because after somehow calling a taxi and stumbling back to his dorm, he gets lost in you for a while and completely ravishes you, impatiently ripping your dress off you and pressing you against the wall, hips eagerly digging into yours until you hook your legs around his hips and he carries you off to bed to finish.

When you’re spent from your first high, Jungkook moves from your sprawled out positions on the bed and gets up, pulling on a pair of discarded sweatpants from the floor. You watch him as he combs his hair back that’s fallen into his face again, muscles in his biceps rippling as he does so. He reaches for an acoustic guitar in one corner, then sinks onto the edge of the bed. He’s not usually this quiet after a night spent together, though you don’t quite seem to notice, thinking nothing of it as he starts plucking away at the guitar with a melody in mind if only because when he’s frustrated and stuck on a lyric, he usually goes to you in seek of help in terms of finding relief. You get to your knees, crawling over to him so that you can drape your arms around his shoulders from the back.

“That’s pretty,” You sigh dreamily, nodding to the guitar and the lazy strumming he had been doing. In the distance, you realize there’s been music playing faintly the whole time from the dock where his phone is plugged in. You recognize one of the boys’ songs playing, then realize it’s Jungkook’s solo, his own voice singing beautifully back to you. Above all else, you realize all at once that he isn’t really playing anything at all, or brainstorming a new song, but plucking along absentmindedly to the melody of his own song.

He’s distracted but he tenses at your touch, then relaxes at once, melting instantly against you. “Just messing around,” he sighs.

“Nonsense,” You giggle. He glances over at you just in time to see you reach for his hand, and he watches as you play with the rings on his fingers. “There’s magic in these hands. In more ways than one.”

You press a chilling kiss against his palm, and then the tip of each of his fingers. Time seems to slow, and all he can suddenly focus on is you.

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” His voice has a dull, stubborn whine to it that he can’t shake. “Have I ever told you that?”

“Once or twice,” You smirk. You busy yourself by focusing on lining the bottom of your palm with his, measuring your hand in his. He’s much bigger than you, his fingers nearly towering over yours and they’re always so snug and warm.

“Well, it’s true,” he says. “You’re the kinda girl songs are written about.”

“Unless I’m mistaken,” You say in a matter-of-fact tone, “you have written songs about me.”

He feigns a look of doubt, though a smile threatens to tug at his mouth, especially when you delicately lace your fingers with his one-by-one. “Ah, is that what you think, baby girl? Don’t let the fame get to your head.”

You laugh, dropping your head and leaning your temple against his knuckles in an attempt to hide your sheepish face. With his free hand, he sets his guitar back onto the floor and then unravels his other hand from yours. His palm is calloused and hot as it slides onto your cheek, and you nuzzle into it even despite him guiding your face back up to look at him. He can’t help himself; he leans in to kiss you, biting at your lower lip and earning a delicious moan. As his hands come to grip at your sides just over your ribs and the underside of your breasts do you crawl into his lap to straddle him. For a while, he lets himself get carried away, feeling your hands roam his chest, but then with such vivid intensity, he can only imagine Namjoon and Taehyung in the same position as him and it almost makes him want to vomit. Either that, or it’s the alcohol. Gathering his wits, he shakes his head, pulling apart from you.

“I think I should write━” He fumbles uselessly with his words. “Namjoon’s gonna kill me if I don’t finish these songs━”

You arch your chest against his, warm and soft and palpable, and your hips dig into his a little more roughly, rubbing against his straining erection. You can be heard whining sluggishly as you kiss the underside of his jaw, “But I want you inside me, Kook.”

His breath hitches in his throat, but he can’t think straight anymore. Is the scent he smelling even you anymore, or just a mix of Namjoon and Taehyung? And when you tell him he’s the only one who can ever make you feel the way he does, do you tell that to them too?

His silence is answer enough, and is what ultimately forces you to look up at him. You’re met with an empty expression, then your own countenance is contorting. You sit back on his lap.

“I don’t understand you anymore, Jungkook,” You say. There it is, he laments to himself. The familiar pang to his chest, the dreaded realization that maybe he’s fucked this whole thing up forever. “It’s like sometimes you can’t get enough of me, touching me here and there and just before shows when you’re supposed to be on in ten minutes, telling me that no one will care if you’re late. Then sometimes it’s like you won’t even look at me. Like you can’t get me off of you fast enough; like you can’t even touch me anymore.”

Jungkook avoids your stare, which he knows is exactly the sort of thing he shouldn’t do. But you already have your answer. You clamber off of his lap at once to slide back onto the bed and he wants nothing more than to pull you back but he knows he shouldn’t. Now, you seem flustered, or maybe just disheartened. Your arms come to cross over your bare chest, as if to hide yourself.

“You don’t want to touch me anymore,” You say dryly.

It’s not a question so much as it is a statement. Either way, he shakes his head. Rubbing a tired hand over his face, he mumbles, “Maybe you should go.”

You clamp your mouth shut. “You’re not serious, Jungkook.”

He still doesn’t dare to meet your gaze, his jaw set hard in place.

“You’re kicking me out? Now? Now?”

“I’m not. I’m just━ Not in the mood tonight.”

“What a liar,” You gasp. “I had your stupid boner poking my ass the entire time we were at the club, and you sure as hell spent the better part of the night fucking me.”

He can’t quite tell if you’re mad. Your tone dances a fine line between incredulousness and amusement, though he assumes it all boils down to disappointment in the end anyway. You refuse to move, though, pushing yourself onto your knees beside him.

“Tell me the truth, Jungkook,” You plead carefully. “Something’s wrong. Has been for a while, and I want to know what it is.”

He takes a deep breath and finally meets your stare and, god, you look irresistible. Your lips are bruised red from him biting and sucking at them, and your exposed chest is too tempting, beckoning him to touch you. His mind is a whirlwind of emotions ━ plus, he’s just a little bit tipsy, and so he blames it on that for caving into you so easily.

He grimaces. “I’m jealous, all right?”

You don’t respond at first, and he decides he wants to curl up into a hole and die. Then, you snort, which isn’t exactly the sort of reaction he was expecting to hear from you, and suddenly you don’t seem so angry at him anymore. “I knew that. Was wondering when you’d tell me, though.”

“You what?”

“Well, it’s not that hard to see. You’re always giving Namjoon and Taehyung death glares when I’m around.”

“I didn’t think I was that obvious.” He says this sheepishly, and at least you giggle at him. “I just━ I’m selfish. I want you to myself.”

“I’m not a thing to have,” You retort.

“I know,” he says, and then groans the words again. “Fuck, I know. I’m sorry. I know you’re not a thing to have, and you’re not mine to have but, god, I hate it that they know everything about what it feels like to be with you.”

Gently, he grabs at your waist, tugging you onto his lap, rough hands spreading your thighs to sit perfectly on him once more. Then, with his hands planted on your hips, does he guide you back and forth on him slowly. He reaches out to brush his fingers along your bare arms, then across your collarbones, and down to your breasts. He leans down as if to kiss the valley between them, but his mouth never really does meet your skin; instead, his lips graze faintly against you.

“That they know your body.” He brushes his nose against your chest as he lifts his head. His mouth ghosts across your breasts, almost catching your nipples in his mouth, his breath warm and tingly against the sensitive flesh, just to tease you. His hand follows his lips, grasping firmly at the underside of your breast, his thumb flicking over the perked bud. “Have touched it where I’ve touched it.”

Your own hands flail out to grasp at his shoulders, your breath hitching in your throat. “Why? Why do you hate it so much? That’s all I want to know.”

“Because they don’t even know how lucky they are,” he mutters. “Because you probably do all sorts of things for them and they just think you’re another groupie. Because they aren’t in love with you.”

“You’re in love with me?” Your face is hot now, your body trembling. His hands are still on your chest when he starts kissing your throat.

“Yeah. I am.”

“What if I told you I’m in love with you too?”

“Well, you are fucking my band mates. I think that makes things a tad bit complicated.”

“You’re such an idiot.” You’re certain if he wasn’t making you feel like heaven in that moment, you would have snapped the words. Instead, you’re already shamelessly grinding your hips against his even without his guidance. “I called it off with them a while ago, actually. They were okay with it, too. Said they felt something was different. You’re the only one in my life, Jungkook.”

Jungkook stops suddenly. He pulls his head back to gawk at you and is greeted to your hooded eyes watching him. “You━ What? What about this morning when you said Namjoon wanted to see you?”

“I lied,” You admit timidly.

“And when you were in his room━”

“We never did anything,” You promise. “I just wanted to see a reaction from you. Honestly, so did Taehyung and Namjoon. I mean, Namjoon purposely told me to come to his room to see if you’d be jealous. And I think I went along with it because I really just want to know that when you ask me to stay with you, in your bed, do you really mean it? I just…” You trail off, biting at your lower lip, asking him apprehensively, “What about you and that Mina girl?”

“I haven’t seen her or talked to her in months,” he says earnestly.

“Of course not.” You say this in a breathless laughing manner, as if it’s just now dawning on you. Then, you reach up to cradle his head in your hands, grasping at either side of his face. When you speak next, your voice is an ardent whisper. “I want to be with you, Kook. Like really, really be with you. I didn’t know how to tell you because we were so used to just having sex and nothing more and I figured if that’s all I could get with you, then I’d learn to live with it even if it’d kill me to hear you hooking up with other girls.”

Jungkook blinks. He takes a moment to comprehend what’s happening, but then he’s feeling that tension in his chest loosen and he’s just so relieved.

“There’s only you,” he says. “Has been for a while.”

You smile, so big and soft and pretty, and he kisses you just to bask in the moment. Suddenly, he’s just overwhelmed with love for you and almost doesn’t know what to do with himself.

“Maybe I should get you jealous more often,” You muse pensively. “It’s kinda hot.”

“It’s mean,” he pouts. Then, his demeanour changes and he’s smirking wolfishly. “Besides, they can’t fuck you like I can, can they?”

“N-No,” You croak feebly. “It’s always been you, Jungkook. Even with them. I’d never tell them but… you’re all I could think about even when I was with them. Imagining you touching me instead of them. Imagining it was you when they laid with me.”

This seems to grab his attention, having him groaning into your neck. “What’d I say? Gonna be the death of me.”

You shiver at the sound of his hoarse voice. You whisper aloud, “The feeling is mutual.”

“I’m sorry I’ve been so stupid lately,” he says. “Let me make it up to you. Do you want that, baby girl? But first you gotta show me you mean it. That you’re mine.”

As he tongues a pattern against your throat, you muster a nod. You wonder if it’s obvious how badly you want him in that moment, with the way your hips continue to grind against his.

“I want you to fuck yourself on my thigh,” he murmurs against you. “Can you do that for me?”

The thought entices you and has you scrambling to nod your head again. His large hands come to grab at your ass, shifting you until you’re seated on one of his legs. Your eyes never stray from his as you start to grind against his thigh, the rough material of his sweatpants rubbing at your core. Slow and steady, he guides you back and forth, watching as your pretty mouth pops open into a silent gasp.

“That’s it, baby girl,” he coos. “God, you look so pretty. And you’re all mine. Touch yourself for me.”

“Where?” You ask breathlessly.

“All over. Anywhere you want me.”

You whimper at the thought, imagining the feeling of his rough hands on your body. You start at your chest, grasping at your own breasts, squeezing at your perked nipples. You pinch them until they’re hard under your fingertips, kneading the soft flesh of your breasts with your palm as you try to picture Jungkook doing the same. Then, you slide one hand down the front of your stomach, past your navel. He watches as you dip lower and lower before finally reaching between your legs, fingers rubbing small circles against your clit. The mingling feelings of you rutting your hips against his thigh and the way you touch yourself under his burning stare has you writhing on his lap within seconds.

“Oh, Jungkook━” Your eyes clamp shut, brows knitting in concentration. “Wanna feel you so bad━”

“Uh uh,” he tuts at once. Grabbing at your chin, he yanks your head back up in his direction and taps his thumb against your jaw. “Keep your eyes on me. I want to see how I make you feel.”

“But it feels so good,” You whine. Still, you listen, prying your eyes open just slightly enough to meet his stare again. Now, you’ve started to grind a little harder on him, rubbing at your heat a little faster. “Please, Jungkook━”

“Cum for me first,” he coos, his tone gentle despite his obvious demands. “Then I’ll do whatever you want. You can do that for me, right?”

You muster a nod, eyes threatening to flutter shut again but you refrain. He moves one of his arms to wrap around your waist, his large hard encompassing almost all of your back as he pushes you closer to him and the action alone is enough to make you hum with delight.

“Tell me what you want me to do to you,” he says. “The things they could never do for you.”

He doesn’t say Taehyung’s or Namjoon’s names for you to understand and, truthfully, you’re glad he doesn’t. Your mind is much too focused on Jungkook to care about anyone else.

“I want you━” You cry out suddenly, biting at your lip. “I want you to touch me, anywhere. I want you to use me, and make me yours. I want you in me. I just need your dick, Jungkook, please. You always make me feel so good. Please, please touch me━”

His jaw sets hard in place as he continues to watch you, fingers itching to please you however which way you want, but he waits. He knows you’re close to your high when you start whimpering and moaning his name, your hand falling from your chest as your other hand rubs harder at your clit the faster you ride his thigh. He flexes his muscle beneath your core, and the simple action is enough to have your head spinning. As you reach your high, his hand that is still wrapped around your chin slides upward and his two forefingers poke into your mouth. Instantly, you’re sucking against them, tongue laving at his digits desperately as you imagine his cock in your mouth, in your cunt, stretching you wide.

“God, you’re such a good girl,” he grunts. “Keep your eyes on me.”

As you unravel in his arms, body twitching into his chest, his arm tightens its hold around your back and envelopes you in his warmth so much to the point where it feels as if you begin to melt against him. You grab at his wrist, pushing his fingers deeper into your mouth until you almost gag, muffled moans meeting his ear as you climax. When you’re spent, your pace on his thigh slows to a steady occasional gyrating of your hips as you suck and lav at his fingertips.

“That’s it, baby girl,” Jungkook hums, his free hand stroking your back as you calm your nerves. When you’ve regained most of your wit, you pop Jungkook’s fingers from your mouth and he takes the liberty of guiding his palm down your chin to your throat to your breasts. “You’re doing so well for me. Bet you never listened as well to them as you do with me. Will you get on your hands and knees for me?”

You scramble to obey, crawling off his lap and onto all fours on the bed. You crane your neck to watch as he gets to his knees behind you, shoving the material of his sweatpants down to his knees in haste. He’s already impossibly hard, grasped in his knuckles, precum leaking from the head of his dick. He wastes no time in pushing himself into you, and though he’s stretched you wide hours ago, the same feeling of him slipping in snug to your heat does wonders on your body still.

“Mm, Jungkook!” You cry out as he buries himself balls deep into you, coaxed so easily by your slick arousal. He sputters at the sensation, palms pawing at your navel as he yanks you further down his cock. “F-Fuck━ You feel so good━”

“Show me,” he gasps, pulling his hips out once and rutting into you so vigorously you feel it shudder throughout your whole body. Then, he’s thrusting into you at a rhythmic fast pace that has you clenching so tight around him, his head spins some more. “Let me hear you. I wanna see how I make you feel. Let me see how you belong to me.”

He tugs at your elbows, yanking you up off the bed, and you clumsily follow suit, pressing your back flushed against his chest.

“I’m all yours, Jungkook,” You whine. “I want you to wreck me so bad. Only you know how to wreck me so bad.”

“Yeah?” he taunts. “Only me? Gonna prove it?”

“Please, Jungkook━ Harder, please━ I’ll do anything you want!”

He quickens his pace and slams his hips up into yours harshly. It has you moaning with delight, nearly slipping from his grasp, but he holds you tighter in place. He reaches round to grab at your chin again, twisting your head in a careful yet prompt manner so that you’re looking over your shoulder at him with your flustered gawking expression.

“Open up.” He taps at your mouth and you do as you’re told. Almost instantly, he pulls your chin closer until your mouth is hovering over his, and spits. It’s a wordless command and gesture, as if to further prompt you to prove your point. You welcome it entirely, swallowing his own saliva completely. What doesn’t make it into your mouth, dribbles down your chin and onto your throat. Then you’re chasing his mouth, hearing him hum approvingly, “That’s it, baby.”

You almost miss his lips the first time from the way he’s being so feral now as his hips continue to slam against yours. You’re fortunate when he guides your chin, still pinched between his fingers, in a much too tender manner for the crude moment that has your heart swooning despite all the hysteria. A hot open-mouthed kiss which is still entirely sloppy as your tongues ravish mid-air, and his teeth nip and suck on your lower lip any chance he can get.

“Gonna tell them how well I fuck you?” he asks breathlessly. You bite at his lip this time, tugging at it hard. “Let them know you’re all mine? Fuck━”

“Mhm!” You rasp. “Oh, Jungkook━”

By now, his pace is relentless. You threaten to ricochet from his grip with each rut of his hips, knees wobbling beneath you. He hand falls from your chin finally to grab at your breasts, replacing your earlier efforts, pinching at your nipples, squeeze at your soft flesh. He lavs wet kisses along your jawline, your neck, and shoulder. Your own head leans back onto his shoulder, a hand reaching out to grasp at his hair. Your fingers first scratch at the shaved sides, then thread through his hair, yanking at it tightly enough to have him grunting in delight.

“Jungkook, I’m gonna━” You whimper. “I’m gonna━”

But you don’t finish your thought. It doesn’t matter anyway. Jungkook already knows you’re close to your high with the way you start to clench around him. You pull even tighter at his hair, a pleasant burn evoking a hiss from his throat. His hips move even faster than before, desperate to try and carry you to your high. So riddled from your first orgasm not long ago and the one before that, you’re quick to crumble beneath him once more. Twisting and turning, you cry out his name in a repeated mantra, like music to his ears. When the scorching heat between your thighs and blinding your eyes subsides enough for you to be somewhat coherent again, you meekly find your voice.

“Tell me I’m yours,” You beg despairingly, voice barely a ragged panting whisper. The aftershock of your orgasm still shakes through your body that the way you’re clutching at his hair now is only so that you can still have some sort of hold on reality still. “Please, please. Tell me. I wanna be yours so bad. You already have me, just wanna hear it from you. Tell me you want me as much as I want you. Please, Jungkook━”

A nerve flutters in Jungkook’s heart. And his dick. He marvels momentarily at the idea of how he wants to continue to wreck you and simultaneously love you all over and grows impatient. Without warning, and with much difficulty, he pulls out of you. Before you can register what’s happening or miss the warmth of his cock in your heat, he pushes you onto the bed and flips you around so that you’re on your back. Then, hovering over you close enough so that he can hook one of your legs over his shoulder, he pushes himself back into you.

“You’re all I want,” he says, smoothing his mouth over yours once more. He moans against your lips, then rests his forehead against yours as he squeezes his eyes shut. “God, I’m so fucking in love with you. You make it so hard to think sometimes. Everything about you drives me wild.”

His pace isn’t as harsh as before, though he’s careless as he abandons all form in an attempt to ride out your high and reach his own. Each thrust he makes jolts you back and forth on the bed, the sensitivity between your thighs a mild burn that starts to crescendo as you gasp each time his cock slides back into you. You reach out tiredly to grab at his face with soft motions despite not bothering to move him from where he still rests with his forehead. One large palm of his comes to grasp at your side, pushing you further into the mattress as he hammers into you.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum━” He moans. “Gonna let me fill you up, baby? Gonna let me make your cunt mine?”

“Yes, please,” You rasp. “Wanna feel it so bad.”

It’s different this time despite knowing the sensation well enough from all those times before. Every event since then has been a build up to this, and when he finally releases into you, it’s unlike anything you’ve ever experienced. The last few sluggish ruts of his hips make the both of you whimper and whine, mewling with delight the longer he cums in your heat.

Then, he slumps against your chest and the room falls silent once more safe for the sound of your mingled panting. He burrows his face into the crook of your neck and your fingers rake through his sweaty hair in a soothing manner until that too ceases after a few silent moments.

“Not falling asleep on me now, are you?” he asks after the thrill of both your highs have subsided. He lifts his head to look at you and finds that you are, in fact, beginning to doze off.

“No,” You lie. You pry one eye open to look at him as you bite back a sheepish snicker. He pulls out of you at long last, and the lack of warmth has you immediately protesting. You reach out blindly for him before he can move too far. “Come back here. I want to cuddle you.” Then, letting your surroundings register once more, you realize suddenly that music has still been playing all this time. Most specifically, Jungkook’s solo which has been left on a loop. You meet his curious gaze in the dark and deadpan, “Did you seriously just fuck me to your song?”

“It’s not fucking when we were making love,” he wriggles his brows suggestively. You wonder how he’s always so quick to go from one extreme to the other. Whereas five minutes ago, you wanted nothing more than to have him demolish you with his dick, now he’s just his usual lovable idiotic self that you want to kiss all over. He’s not wrong though, you discern. The song isn’t a bad one either, and the thought of him having sex with you to his own music is undescriably hot anyway.

“You can’t say you were making love to me when you just took me raw.” Amongst other things, you think to yourself, but you’re certain he’s well aware of that. His snickers warm your heart to no end and you can’t help yourself when you lean forward to kiss him.

“I can and I will because I love you,” he says proudly. Then, as if tasting the words on his tongue and favouring the sound of it, hums more pensively again, “I love you.”

“I love you too, Jungkook.”

And this time he knows you mean it because, in the morning, when you both wake up feeling sore and marked all over by one another (so that Namjoon and Taehyung can know), you’re still curled up into Jungkook’s chest. You’re half asleep, your nose nuzzling against the crook of his neck and making him smile. You’re only roused awake by the feather-light strokes his fingers make as they rub small circles into your back.

“Stay with me?” Jungkook asks this hopefully, of course, but he already knows the answer. This time, he even knows it’ll be different.

He sees your sleepy smile widen when he kisses your temple sweetly, and decides quickly that he likes this, right there and now, as it is, and especially when he hears you whisper finally, “There’s no place I’d rather be.”

⟶ Feedback is always appreciated!

4K notes · View notes

katmoonz · 3 years

Text

Depression

Pairing: Wolfstar x Fem!Reader

Word count: 3034

Includes: TW suicidal thoughts, depression, mentions of missing meals, crying, fluff, hugs, angst to fluff, comfort

Do not post any of my work anywhere else!!! I’m fine with reblogs but not with people stealing my work.

Notes: I have depression, this fic is kinda based off of my experience with depression. I wanted more than anything for someone to notice how badly I was struggling and I was in desperate need of a hug. I can’t change the past but I can write down my thoughts, feelings and what I needed at the time.

Thank you @quindolyn for helping me to fix a couple bits and for helping me decide on the ending xx

Depression is completely unpredictable. You might feel on top of the world one minute and suddenly feel miserable the next. You smile around your friends and family hoping that they don’t notice that anything is wrong but deep down you just want someone to notice, to care, to ask you how you are or just hold you while you cry it all out. You want to die yet you can’t bring yourself to do the actions that would end it all because that scares you even more than living.

Lately, you had been feeling very happy. Remus and Sirius were wonderful boyfriends and would do everything they could to make you laugh or smile. Your favourite moments with Remus are the ones where he decides to cuddle with you, there is nothing more relaxing than just resting your head on his chest and listening to the thump of his heart and his steady breaths.

The best moments with Sirius are when he tries to make up his own jokes, most of the jokes he tries to tell aren’t even funny but that somehow makes it funnier when he tells you a bad one-liner whilst in detention. The sweetest thing about Sirius is that when you least expect it he curls up on the bed and sleeps next to you as Padfoot. It’s the sweetest thing ever waking up in Remus’ arms to Padfoot lying across your chest, Remus just watches over the pair of you with a smile upon his face at seeing his two lovers sleeping so peacefully.

This morning you had woken up and felt like crap, you couldn't quite place it so you skipped breakfast and had a lie-in instead. This caused you to miss your first lesson and most of lunch. You managed to go to your next lesson though which was Charms with your boyfriend Remus.

At first, you tried to concentrate but you felt like a cloud had settled itself over your head causing you to struggle with your work.

You’d been feeling better for a while now but for some reason today had just left you feeling miserable. For the rest of class, you sat with your head in your hand gazing out the window.

Remus could tell that you weren’t paying attention to the class and was starting to grow concerned. “y/n, you okay?” He whispers in your ear.

Not wanting to draw any attention to yourself or bother him, you just nod and force a smile in the hopes that you could pretend that everything was fine.

The bell rang a few minutes later signalling the end of the class period. You had History of Magic next, Remus wasn’t in that class with you but Sirius was. Remus walked you to your next class observing your behaviour.

You weren’t smiling and didn’t speak at all on the way there simply looking at the ground. Remus stopped with you at the classroom door and gave you a soft kiss on the cheek. “Are you sure you’re alright love? You know you can talk to me if something is wrong.”

Looking up at him you sigh. “I’m fine,” you say quietly before turning around and walking into the classroom.

Remus was growing very concerned with your behaviour, something was clearly wrong but you weren’t telling him.

Just then Sirius walks down the corridor. “Moony, decided to switch classes have you?” He jokes.

Not wanting anyone to overhear the conversation Remus grabs his arm and pulls him over to an empty classroom shoving him in the door.

“I need a favour,” said Remus in a serious tone.

“What Moons?” replies Sirius, confused at the sudden change in Remus’ behaviour.

“I need you to watch y/n for me and make sure she’s alright. Something is wrong and I want to help her but she won’t tell me anything.” blurts Remus.

Sirius pats him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry Remus, I’ll keep an eye on her.” Sirius leaves the empty room and proceeds to walk into the History of Magic classroom.

Sirius seats himself beside you but you don’t notice at first because you are spaced out not paying any attention to the lecture being given by Binns.

You felt like crap to put it simply. You wanted to focus on your classes so badly but your brain was just telling you no.

Your brain is running at a hundred miles an hour making you feel even worse. *I’m going to fail all of my classes. Why am I so useless? Do the boys love me or do they just tolerate me? Nobody loves me, not really. I wish I was dead, why can’t I just die?*

You feel slow tears make their way down your face. You sniffle softly not wanting to bother anyone.

Sirius quickly notices your tears as you sniffle next to him. *Moony is right* thought Sirius *something is very wrong.*

Sirius reaches a hand out to yours underneath the desk and gives it a gentle squeeze as a reminder that he is there for you.

Finally, you have enough of your self-deprecating thoughts and abruptly stand up, grab your things and leave despite only having twenty minutes of class left. Sirius gets up and follows you, grabbing your hand as you leave the room.

The pair of you walk silently through the castle until you get back to the Gryffindor common room. Sirius seats you at the couch in front of the fire before grabbing your bag and chucking it aside.

Sirius sits down next to you as you stare into the ornate fireplace with tears still slowly rolling down your face. “Y/n love, what’s wrong?” He softly asks.

Instead of answering him, you rest your head on his shoulder. Sirius brings his arms around you to pull you into a hug. The pair of you sit like that for a while, listening to the crackle of the fire and your sorrowful sniffles. Sirius simply holds you whilst tears slowly roll down your face.

“I'm sorry, I’m just tired. I think I’m gonna go have a nap” you say softly.

“Alright doll, I’ll see you at dinner then?” He asks.

“Yeah, I’ll be there,” you tell him knowing full well that you wouldn’t be in the mood to eat.

Leaving Sirius in the common room you walk up to the boys dorm and throw yourself down on Remus' bed. Grabbing a discarded sweater from Sirius’ bed on the way. You curl up in a ball under the covers on Remus’ bed before letting the tears fall down your face again *why can’t I just feel happy for once in my life? I always fuck everything up, I want to die*

Sirius watches you walk up the stairs to the boys dorm before letting out a sigh and putting his head in his hands. You had never been like this, you were usually so bright and cheerful something bad must have happened because Sirius hadn’t seen even the slightest smile all day.

The bell for the next lesson rings and Sirius remains sitting on the sofa in the common room contemplating what he should tell Remus. He didn’t want to make his friend even more alarmed but he couldn’t hide his feeling of concern for your breakdown in class.

Remus enters the common room behind a babble of second years who were complaining to each other about their homework.

Spotting Sirius on the sofa before the fire he rushes over to sit next to him.

“Where’s y/n? Is she alright?”

Sirius takes a deep breath before sitting back on the sofa. “No, I can see what you mean Rem, she’s very upset.”

“What do you mean?” replies a panicked Remus

Sirius turns to face him and puts a hand on his shoulder. “Look mate I don’t want to worry you but in class, she just sat and stared into space, then she started crying and walked out.”

Remus let out a pained sigh and ran his hands down his face before clasping them in his lap. “Is she okay? where is she now?”

“I walked her back here, we had a cuddle for a while then she said that she was just tired so she left to have a nap,” replies Sirius

Remus stands up from the sofa and brushes his sweaty palms off of his trousers, “let's go and check on her.”

Sirius rises off of the sofa too, he turns around and looks around the common room before turning back to Remus. “Maybe she just needs space, she told me she’d come down to dinner so let's just give her some time alone and if she doesn't come to dinner then we can go and check on her.”

Staring into Sirius’ stormy grey irises Remus stays standing for another minute before nodding and sitting back down.

The boys study in the common room for an hour in complete silence, both of them preoccupied with thoughts of their distressed girlfriend. Sirius and Remus then head down to dinner, sitting down at the end of the Gryffindor table closest to the doors so that they could spot you as soon as you walked in.

The boys sit and pick at their food mindlessly for ten minutes continuously watching the door in hope that you’d join them for the meal.

Sirius lets out a deep sigh and drops his fork on his plate rubbing his brow before looking at Remus. Remus looks up at him offering a small smile before standing up. “Come on Pads, our girl needs us”

Sirius quickly stands up and grabs Remus’ hand dragging him out of the great hall. The boys briskly walk hand in hand back to the Gryffindor common room and quickly ascend the stairs to the dorm.

Remus opens the door quietly in case you are sleeping and peers in, he feels his heart break as he catches sight of you. You are lying in his bed fast asleep with puffy eyes from crying.

Remus approaches the bed and sits down on the side closest to you. Gently he starts to stroke your face with his hand whilst gesturing for Sirius to come over to the bed with his other hand. Sirius kneels on the bed next to Remus, reaches out and starts playing with your hair.

Remus watches as you slowly awaken, your eyes fluttering as they adjust to the light in the room. “Darling are you alright?” He asks you softly while rubbing his thumb over your cheek.

You feel your eyes fill with tears but don’t want the boys to see them so you roll over and put your face in the pillow hoping that they leave you alone so that you can compose yourself again.

The boys look at each other trying to figure out what to do next. Remus nods at Sirius gesturing for him to try and get a response from you.

“Baby, why didn’t you come to dinner?” You still don’t respond, making Sirius panic. “Please talk to us, we want to help you.” This makes you feel even worse, they just wanted you to be happy but instead, you’d caused them to leave dinner to look for you.

Your body starts to shake as the tears start rolling down your face. You keep the sobs in not wanting to make them even more worried.

Remus carefully runs a hand over your back worried at the lack of response. “Y/n please talk to us, we love you baby we only want to help you. It’s killing me that you are this upset and we want to be here for you.”

This is the last straw and you lose control of your crying, finally letting out the sobs that had been building up all day.

Remus’ heart breaks even more “Oh baby, come here”. Remus turns you over and carefully pulls you into his lap.

You press your head into Remus’ neck and let out all of the emotion that had been held within you all day.

Sirius sits down next to Remus and yourself at the head of the bed, he runs one hand soothingly up and down your back. “It’s okay baby, it’s okay.”

Your entire body shakes with sobs, tears soak the front of Remus’ sweater whilst the boys continue to make attempts to console you.

Remus rocks you in his arms carefully trying to calm you down. “Shh darlin’ it’s okay”

You start hyperventilating from the force of your sobs, Remus pulls you back from his chest slightly brushing hair away from your face.

Sirius reaches out to you and picks up one of your hands, he brings it up to his chest so that you can feel his steady heartbeat. “I know you're upset baby but you’ve got to breathe. Can you do that for me?”

Sirius breathes in and out slowly emphasising each breath for you to follow. “In...and out, in…and out.” This continues for a few minutes as you try to regulate your breathing.

“Good girl, you’re doing such a good job baby”

The sobs slow down slightly as you regain control over your breathing, tears still fall down your face but not as quickly as before.

Remus cups your face in his hand wiping away stray tears with his thumb before pressing a solitary kiss to your temple. “Y/n, what’s wrong? Please tell us” he begs.

You let out a sigh, opening and shutting your mouth a few times trying to come up with something to tell them.

Sirius notices your hesitation and gives you a reassuring smile. “It’s okay love, you can tell us anything. I promise you that we’ll try to help you and nothing you say can make us love you any less.”

Looking into his eyes you see nothing but love and concern. You sniffle and wipe one of your sleeves across your face. “I don’t know, I just don’t feel good”

Sirius runs a hand through your hair before giving you a sympathetic smile. “Is it that time of the month baby? You feelin’ sick?”

Tears well up in your eyes again. “No” you reply softly “I don’t feel sick”

“Then what is it babe?” asks Sirius with a small frown on his face.

You consider lying to them for a moment not wanting to burden them with your thoughts and emotions but in the end, it’s the pleading expression upon Remus’ face that makes you give in.

You take a deep breath, “sometimes I just feel really sad, like nothing will get better. I feel like no one loves me. I don't want to bother you guys because I don’t want you to leave me.”

The tears fall down your face again as you turn around and put your face back into Remus’ sweater, your fingers have a firm grasp on him as if letting go would make him disappear.

“Please, please don’t leave me, I’m sorry” you beg them as you cry into Remus’ chest.

Remus feels tears well up in his own eyes but swallows them down in order to comfort you. “No no no, sweetheart, it's okay. I promise that we aren’t leaving you.”

Remus holds you even tighter in his arms “I wish you’d told us that you were feeling like this sooner darling. We love you so much”

Sirius sits in silence listening to Remus comfort you before lifting a hand and rubbing your back. “Look at me baby,” he says with a stern tone.

You look up at him, he has a more pronounced frown upon his face than what was there previously but it softens slightly when he realises that you are watching him.

“You need to tell us when you feel like this okay? You aren’t bothering anyone, we just want to help you and we would never leave you over something like this.”

You remain silent looking away from him, the tears slowing down again so all that remains are the odd couple every few seconds.

“Promise you’ll tell us when you feel like this baby?” He asks, holding your face in his hands.

You sniffle softly before agreeing “m’kay, I promise”

“Good girl, you’re such a good girl for telling us baby,” he says fondly before placing a soft kiss on your cheek. As he pulls away from your cheek he gets a mischievous look upon his face. “Hey babe, what do you call a cow with two legs?”

You look at him confused for a minute before saying “I dunno”

He leans in towards you with a grin upon his face as though he is telling you a secret “Lean beef”

This causes you to giggle, Sirius smirks whilst Remus chuckles. The boys are pleased to hear you laugh after having been deprived of such beautiful sounds for an entire day.

“Good one wasn’t it?” He asks with a cocky smirk on his face.

“No” you reply, still slightly giggling.

“No!” He repeats back to you in disbelief. “What do you mean no? I thought it was a good one”

Remus raises an eyebrow looking at Sirius “c’mon Pads, you can do better than that”

“Fine, I’ve got a better one” huffs Sirius. “What does the perverted frog say?”

“I dunno” you reply again trying to keep a straight face.

“Rubbit” he replies.

This joke was much funnier than the last and you burst out in laughter. You have joyous tears of laughter pouring down your face as you giggle until your sides hurt.

After a while you yawn and rub your eyes, Remus smiles affectionately at you before moving you off of his lap changing positions so that you are laying half on Remus’ chest with Sirius spooning you from behind.

“C’mon darling, let's get some sleep,” he says quietly.

Sirius buries his face in the back of your neck before mumbling out a quick “I love you”

You settle down into their embrace, relaxing all of your muscles and just as you are dozing off to sleep you feel Remus run his hand through your hair as he whispers “I love you darling, more than you will ever know.”

571 notes · View notes

gogolucky13 · 3 years

Text

Southpaw (5)

Series summary: Tied up in the criminal world your godfather has built, you have no reason to leave, until you find one in the man they call Southpaw.

Pairing: boxer!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word count: 3,059

Warnings: Slight angst, bit of fluff. Description of fighting/boxing. Mild swearing.

A/N: Did we really think they could stay away from each other?? Thank you for all the support, feedback is always appreciated! Divider by @firefly-graphics Happy reading! 💜

You’ve been told before that if something is meant to be, it’ll find a way. And you think that might be the case for you and Bucky. Despite logical thoughts and reason telling you to end this before it has a chance to begin, you can’t.

And you tried to stay away, you really did.

Two weeks passed at a gut-wrenchingly slow pace, every second filled with flashbacks of his soft lips moving against yours, the scratchy tickle of his scruff on your skin, the feel of his hands wondering in desperation over your body. It only intensified your captivation with the one they call Southpaw.

You tried to stay away, you really did.

But eventually, you found yourself coming back to the gym, under the false guise you preferred working in the secluded office of the basement. What a crock of shit, your subconscious taunted. You ignored it, just like you ignored every longing glance to the window when someone walked by, hoping to see him.

It seemed he tried to stay away, too.

When you arrive at the gym, there is no sighting of the Southpaw…again. You aren’t sure if he’s asked to move his training sessions to earlier in the day, knowing you would be caught up in the city until evening, but with every day that passes and there’s no sight of him, you think it might be the case.

Sitting at your desk, you begin to question why you even bother coming back if he’s listened to you, realizing you were right and the two of you could never be. The thought sinks to the darkest depths of your heart. A wave of heavy sorrow washes over you, stray tears sliding down the slopes of your cheeks as you silently mourn what could’ve been.

A soft knock to your door draws you from your numbing thoughts, and you quickly wipe away the evidence of pain on your face.

“Come in,” you call, the words scratching their way out, strangled as a lingering sadness threads through your voice.

The door opens, and any remaining sensation leaves your body in a tingling flurry as Bucky appears from the other side. A black t-shirt clings to the muscles of his torso, and a pair of dark grey sweatpants sit low around his waist. The strands of his hair appear slightly damp, but dried for the most part, and he stands with a gentle, uncertain look.

“Can we talk?”

Quietly gasping for air and attempting to ease your nerves, you can only nod in response. You remain still and watch as Bucky enters and closes the door. The sound of it clicking shut brings feeling back into your body, an electrifying pulse all over at the realization you’re back in his presence.

Bucky stands by the door, not daring to come any closer in fear of losing control over his senses. His hands shake with want to touch you again, and he balls them up before stuffing them into the front pockets of his sweatpants.

“How are you?”

The question is light and not at all what he wants to ask, and if you weren’t so stunned with having him here with you again, you would scoff and roll your eyes at the lame attempt in conversation.

“I’m fine.”

He clears his throat and nods his head, silently berating himself for asking something so stupid. But then he meets your eye, swallowing thickly and heart rate rising.

“I just need to know something.”

One step towards you, then another.

“Did you feel it?”

He doesn’t need to elaborate, you already know what he’s asking, and you’re almost wishing he’d go back to his monotonous questioning. The combination of his nearing presence and direct questioning is making you dizzy. The air catches in your lungs and tears begin to well in your eyes again.

“Tell me you didn’t feel it,” he says, a quiet desperation in his voice, like he isn’t sure if he wants you to agree or not. Because if you don’t agree, that might kill him, but if you do, well that might kill him, too.

“Tell me you didn’t feel it, and I’ll step away from this, no looking back.” He’s kneeling before you now, hands resting on the arms of your chair. “But, fuck, if you feel it, too, then I’m telling you right now, sweetheart, I won’t be able to do that. I can’t, knowing there’s something here.” He pauses, allows the words to sink in and give you a chance to decide if you’re going to fall with him.

“So tell me, did you feel it?”

Waiting, he looks up to you. Blue eyes sparkling with anticipation, almost blinding like gentle waves rolling in the open sea, caught in rays of sun. Mesmerizing and so easy to get swept up and lost in.

Brow crinkling, the tears finally break over your lower lash line as you nod. “Yes,” you breathe. “Yes, I feel it.”

Without another word, he wraps a large hand around the back of your neck, bringing your lips to his in a bruising kiss. There’s a rush as the air is put back into your lungs, and a moment’s thought that this can only end badly pushes its way to the forefront of your mind. But as his lips move against yours and two large hands pick you up to perch you on the edge of your desk, the worrying thought is drowned in the sea of blue-grey eyes, taking you with it.

Sinking to the bottom, you think you’d be okay with going this way. Bucky’s broad figure between your legs, wrapped in a warm embrace and caught up in a dizzying spell of needy kisses. It’s then you realize there’s no stopping this.

“We have to be careful,” you sigh, your cheek pressed against his, hands grasping his shoulders to ground yourself in the flurry of soft kisses Bucky trails along your jaw. “Promise me.”

He stops his motions. With a gentle hand cupping your face, he looks you in the eye and speaks with conviction, “I promise.”

You kiss him again. And again and again. You don’t think you’ll ever grow tired of it, and when he pulls away, you whine with a small pout. Bucky chuckles, fully enjoying being able to touch and kiss you again, still not entirely comprehending you’re just as caught up in this as he is.

“Are you gonna come to my match this weekend?” He asks, trailing his nose lightly along your jaw, placing a kiss below your ear. He cages you in with a pair of thick arms, hands splaying across the desk on either side of your legs.

Another sigh. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea…”

A hum deep in his chest vibrates against yours. “I don’t think any of this is a good idea.”

You can hear the jest in his tone and it entices a giggle from you. The sound of your laugh is the sweetest song Bucky’s ever heard, and it has him leaning back to see you clearly. In the depths of your eyes, there’s a spark he catches, a rekindling of that long lost hope he saw all those weeks ago, and his heart soars. Unable to stop himself, Bucky places a chaste kiss to the corner of your mouth.

The gesture has your smile widening and insides fluttering, the prospect of what this could be bringing you back to life. “I’ll think about it.”

And you do. Thoughts of seeing Bucky in action play on repeat in your mind for the rest of the week. Any lingering doubt you had about going to the fight forgotten, too intrigued to see the Southpaw fight in the ring. Never before had you even considered going to one, your disdain for boxing glaringly obvious as you wanted nothing to do with the sport that’s been the cause for all the vile and dark facets of your life. But all that resentment melted away when Bucky came into the picture.

The gym is crowded when you arrive, and you’re grateful for that. The equipment and the mats around the ring are removed, clearing for rows of metal folding chairs to fill the space. These are reserved for the highest betters in attendance, forcing the rest of the onlookers to stand. It’s mostly dark, the only lights on the ones above the ring—a spotlight for the action.

Carefully, you make your way through the crowd, attempting to find a spot with a decent view of the ring, but away from prying eyes. You glance up to where your godfather prefers to watch his fighters; a balcony overlooking the ring. He’s there, standing tall and wickedly proud at what he’s been able to build. Even from across the gym, you can see the flash of dollar signs reflecting in his cold eyes as he scans the crowd, a pleased smile on his face. A faint wave of nausea rolls in your stomach at the sight of him, and you almost think to turn and leave. But you decide against it, too eager to see Bucky. Instead, you pull the baseball cap you wear further down over your eyes, a meager attempt at disguising yourself, but hoping it’s enough to avoid being seen by your godfather.

A roar of claps and cheers shakes the space, your attention instantly drawn to the illuminated ring. The opposing fighter appears first, a few boos bleeding from the crowd before another bout of deafening applause picks up when Bucky steps into the ring.

An overwhelming sense of pride fills you up, swirling in your belly and fluttering in your chest. You clap along with the crowd, a face-splitting smile stretching across your lips. Somehow he looks different, you think as you watch the way he amps himself up for the fight.

A pair of black boxing gloves cover his hands, matching the shorts he wears. His hair is combed back and pulled away from his face. The tattoos on his arm gleam in the spotlights as he bounces up and down, swinging his arms back and forth. Mean determination darkens his features, stealing away the soft gentleness you’ve come to know and appreciate.

He’s in his element, ready to fight.

The referee announces the two boxers, Bucky’s name earning him a significantly louder applause than his opponent. Then the bell rings and the fight begins.

Holding his hands by his face, Bucky instantly begins to analyze his opposition. The steps he takes, the slight glances, the movement of his body. It’s always the same for Bucky—read the strengths and react to the weaknesses. And it seems this opponent is keen on getting the first hit in, so Bucky waits—taunting and testing.

The first few rounds go by in a flash with Bucky getting majority of the hits in. Each time he sits in his corner, Sam’s commanding voice incessantly speaking directly into his ears, he scans the crowd for you. You told him you would come, but he isn’t sure if you actually would, knowing how worried you are of Pierce seeing you here. But then he spots you.

You smile and mouth a hi to him, and Bucky feels a fresh wave of adrenaline shoot through his system. He smiles back, and holds your gaze until the bell rings for the next round to begin. Bucky takes the lead for the rest of the fight. His newfound drive to win continuously coursing through his veins and pumping him with an endless supply of energy. He can tell his opponent is holding on by a thread. It’s in the way the other man’s legs slightly wobble occasionally and he stumbles over his feet when he’s attempting to dodge a punch. It’s also in the way Bucky clocks the man’s reduced reaction time, his arms seeming to move like they’re made of lead. Bucky knows all he needs is one more good hit to send him falling to the mat below.

In dazzling amazement you watch on as Bucky delivers blow after blow. The initial fear of him getting hurt quickly dissipated once you realized how in control of the fight he was. His opponent staggers around the ring, ducking and cowering away from the punches, and right before Bucky makes the final hit, he pauses.

Blue eyes, glistening brightly under the overhead lights, meet yours and he winks. He fucking winks with that boyish smirk curling his lips, the same one he flashed you all those weeks ago outside the elevator. You’re left just as stunned as the other boxer after Bucky knocks him out with his trademark left hook, the heavy thud of his limp body hitting the mat resonating around the gym.

It’s a contradiction of the most ridiculous and sexiest thing you’ve ever seen, and you have to physically restrain yourself from jumping into the ring to attack him with a fit of frenzied kisses.

The final bell rings and you only stay a moment longer to revel in Bucky’s win with him. He briefly looks to you again, catching your eye as the referee picks his arm up to declare him the winner. Then, you slip into the shadows and retreat back to your office.

Nearly two hours pass by the time everyone has gone, including your godfather. The sounds of shuffling feet and muffled voices filtering out of the building told you the coast was clear. There’s always a few wealthy betters who stay behind to have a chance to chat with your godfather, until they ultimately decide to leave and share a few drinks at some exclusive club.

When you remerge on the gym floor, its dark—only a few remaining lights kept on for maintenance and the cleaning crew. A figure waits for you by the front door. It’s concealed in partial darkness, a broad silhouette that you recognize instantly.

“Congratulations, Southpaw,” you greet. A teasing smirk quirks your lips, and a glint of pride brightens your eyes as you approach.

“Thanks, sweetheart,” he replies, his own smile stretching across his face. He drops his gym bag to the floor and reaches out for you as you near. “I’m glad you came.”

“Me too.”

Bucky places a chaste kiss to your lips, a hum of content reverberating in his chest. When he pulls away, his eyes are drawn to the baseball hat you still wear.

“Is this your attempt at a disguise?” He chuckles, flicking the visor with a long forefinger.

You shrug. “Better than nothing.”

“Mm, true.” He pauses before adding, “but I wanna see that pretty face.” He reaches to remove the hat, fixing your hair once it’s off and tossed to the side. “That’s better.”

Leaning in, your lips catch with his for another brief, tender kiss, until he’s pulling away and a petulant look covers your features. Bucky quietly laughs to himself at your displeased state, pecking your cheek before he drops to his knees. Silently, you watch as he reaches for something from his gym bag, standing a moment later once he retrieves it. Boxing gloves.

“C’mon,” he says, securing your hand in his, leading you back into the gym instead of out like you were expecting.

“What are you doing?” You laugh softly. Confusion crinkles your brow, but you don’t put up an ounce of resistance.

“I wanna show you some moves,” he answers, facing you as he walks backwards towards the line of punching bags. There’s a twinkle of boyish charm in his eyes, lighting the blue even in the dim space, and its infectious nature spreads from his hand to yours, tingling up your arm.

“Aren’t you tired from fighting?”

“Never. It’s what I do, sweetheart.”

He shoots you a wink over his shoulder, a flurry of butterflies swarming around in your stomach at the gesture. Stopping just before one of the bags, Bucky pulls you in and begins the process of wrapping your hands. He works in silence, and you can only watch in amazement as his nimble fingers and strong hands twirl and bind the fabric. Then, he holds out the black boxing gloves he wore earlier this night and you stuff your hands inside them.

“Okay, now you’re gonna stand here,” he begins, wrapping two hands around your waist, “just…like…this,” he says softly, squaring your body at the perfect angle right before the hanging bag, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he speaks.

A pleasant chill runs down your spine, goosebumps pricking at your skin, and you bite your lip to withhold the moan that threatens to spill out.

Bucky shows you the different types of hits—jabs, hooks, cross punches—with words of encouragement that you’re a natural. The sound of your gloved fists connecting with the bag is the only other noise that echoes against the walls. He’s like a kid on Christmas morning as he watches you, eyes wide with excitement and awe. A look of adoration all for you.

It doesn’t take long before he has you pinned against the matted wall. Your legs wrap themselves tightly around his waist, the boxing gloves still covering your hands, as he kisses you senseless.

Eventually, the kiss is broken. A quiet moment settles between you, chests heaving together as you both attempt to steady your breathing, eyes searching one another for answers and reasons. Answers to what this growing connection means, and any reason to stop it before you’re both in deeper than you already are. But there’s nothing; only an open sea of endless possibility, a gentle tide coaxing you both to embrace it and leave behind any worries.

Bucky releases you from against the wall and gingerly places you back down on the floor, removing the gloves and wraps before driving you home. You ask him to stay, and he does, without a second thought. Bucky holds you in his arms, the first peaceful night of sleep he’s gotten in years. And in the morning, he silences his alarm, deciding to skip his training with Sam to spend a few extra hours in bed with you. His second mistake.

His first one was choosing to listen to his heart and letting himself fall for you.

Part four // Part six // Masterlist

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes

361 notes · View notes

alluremin · 3 years

Text

catch 22

pairing: jeon jungkook | reader

genre: fwb to lovers , college!au | fluff, smut, light angst

warnings: explicit sex; oral (f receiving), fingering, penetration w/o protection, dirty talk, light dom x sub themes, candid sex talk, jimin is a player, jungkook is a frat boy

premise: you and your best friend had agreed: college was for a good time only, no serious relationships were necessary. who knew that a frat boy would be the one to shake up that notion?

word count: 7.2k

At this time of night, you know you should expect to see his eyes following every movement your body makes. It was like you two were magnets of opposite charges, always attracted to one another regardless of how much your substance of choice was affecting your decisions. It’s bound to happen, almost as if by fate.

It was a beautifully toxic connection you shared with him; a vicious cycle comprised of sex, weed, booze, and good music, never in any particular order.

When you glance to the corner of the room surrounded by a hazy cloud of euphoria, the boy in question pulls himself at attention, elbows on his knees, wavy hair falling in front of his eyes. They bore holes into your own as if to say I’m waiting for you to join me, sweetheart.

Who were you to say no to that?

You know the power you have over him and consequently, every movement you make is intentional; your pivot from the makeshift dance floor, the sway of your hips with every step, the way you push your hair over your shoulder, and the smirk you give him when his eye contact fails to break with your own. The mix of alcohol and marijuana in your body makes you feel like you’re moving in slow motion, in the best way possible.

You had him wrapped around your pretty little finger.

No hesitation ran through your body as you sit in his lap and take the joint from his hands. “I was wondering when you’d come back from your stage, tiny dancer,” he teases.

“Oh please, Guk, don’t act like you weren’t enjoying the show,” you smirk at him, taking a drag from the stick in your hands. Next to the two of you, Yoongi scoffs at your banter and takes the joint from you.

Once your hands are free from the vice, it opens your fingers up to run your hands down the length of Jungkook’s torso.

“Oh, believe me, I was. That doesn’t mean I didn’t feel jealous when everybody else got to see the show too, though.” A fake pout takes over his features. One of his hands travels downward from its grip on your waist to settle on the hem of your emerald dress. “Is this new?” His stare is obvious at the space where your dress meets your thigh.

“Mhm, I picked it up a few days back. Like it?” The smirk is evident in your voice, not like you’re trying to hide it. The garment had accomplished its job: make your flavor of the month drool.

His gaze slowly leaves your smooth thigh and reaches your eyes, his hands still toying with the edge of the fabric. “I know what you’re doing tonight.”

You feign innocence, “Oh? What am I doing?”

“Seducing me... As if you need to.” He laughs at your fake pout, taking the hand that hadn’t snaked back around your waist to run softly along your lips. He leans in until your foreheads meet. “It’s working, by the way.”

You don’t answer, instead, you close the small gap between your lips.

“Jesus, you two, just go upstairs already,” Yoongi groans, pushing at your knees.

Jungkook giggles into the kiss, and for a second the little cloud of lust surrounding the two of you dissipates. A little pang hits your heart just then, as you break your kiss from the boy below you.

If you had met under different circumstances, maybe the feelings you had brewing in your chest for Jungkook would be less offensive. But you were just a hookup, a weekend bed partner. Nothing more, nothing less. You pushed them aside and stood before offering Jungkook your hands. He grabs them without hesitation, and suddenly the lust is restored.

You follow the familiar path you’ve found yourself traveling every weekend for months. The fraternity’s house was a maze, but you knew it like the back of your hand, and you couldn’t find it in you to feel shame about it. You drag the boy behind you without a single glance backward. You didn’t need to, knowing his eyes didn’t leave your ass the whole time giving you the boost of confidence you crave.

When you reach his bedroom at the end of the hallway, Jungkook wastes no time spinning your body and pressing you hard into the door. The impact of his lips against yours pulls a mewl from your throat, your body keening against his in desperation. He responds by slipping his tongue into your mouth.

By now, the two of you had a routine, and the way you moved was almost like a dance; his arms sliding under to lift you, his spin in route to his bed, your grip in the hair at the base of his skull.

His body follows yours downward when he drops you on his sheets, never breaking the connection of your lips. “You don’t waste time anymore, huh, Gukkie?”

He sucks his teeth at the nickname, and attacks your neck, drawing a moan from you.

“And you still act like you’re going to be in charge, but we both know that's not true, is it, princess?” You blush at his words.

Of course, he was in charge, but he has yet to realize that the brattier you act, the more you get exactly what you want. You wondered how many more drunken hookups it would take for him to catch onto your game.

His hands quickly reach down to pull his t-shirt over his head, and you never get tired of the view that meets you when he does. The small waist, bulky chest, defined abs, and tattoos covering the expanse of his left side - it should be illegal to look as sinful as he does hovering over you. Jungkook proved that God does have favorites.

You sit up on your knees quickly to pull your dress over your head and don’t miss the small gasp that leaves the man in front of you. Forgoing underwear this evening seemed like the right choice, and this moment proves that for you.

“Jesus, Y/N, you’re gonna be the death of me.” Jungkook’s hand traces down your subtle curves before pulling your kneeling form against his own. You don’t miss the way the cold metal of his belt feels on your lower stomach, the anticipation building in your body for what’s about to happen.

As his mouth moves toward yours, just before they meet, you whisper, “Is that a promise?”

That’s all it took for him to finally snap.

Before you know it, you’re on your back and his head is between your legs. With the drugs and alcohol flowing through your system, every movement his lips make against your inner thighs feels like fire. You’re just about to sit up and groan at his avoidance of your center when he wraps his lips around your clit like his life depends on it.

Your head flies back to hit the pillow beneath it and you swear the coil in your stomach already begins to twist. Jungkook had a lot of things he could brag about. The top three? His body, his voice, and his devilish tongue, in all of its glory.

His mouth continues its assault on your bud, one of his hands reaching underneath to insert two fingers into your aching center.

“Fuck, Guk,” you moan. He hums, sending a vibration through your core. You were embarrassingly close to cumming. It was like you were under his spell.

“I can feel you squeezing around my fingers,” his voice drips with honey. The low tone was enough to push you over the edge. You saw stars behind your eyes and euphoria washed over your entire body. “That’s my girl.”

You don’t miss the sweet comment in your bliss, choosing to not think about it too much so it doesn’t swallow you whole.

Jungkook crawls upward and crashes his lips onto yours as your hands expertly undo his belt and the buttons of his jeans. He leans back on his legs to assist you in ridding himself of the last pieces of clothing that separate the two of you, breaking the seal of your lips and looking at you with a gaze that made you stop breathing for a moment.

It’s not like this was the first time you’ve seen him naked, far from it, but he never failed to take away your breath. If a human could be perfect, you’re sure it would be him.

He wastes no time in coming back to you, lips on yours as he lines himself up with your entrance. He pushes in and his pretty eyes screw shut at the feeling. “Fuck, always so tight for me, baby girl.”

Your ego only has a second to absorb his compliment before your own senses are overtaken by the pleasure between your legs. “Give me a second, Guk, you’re so big,” you say as seductively as you can manage, but you know your words come out as more of a whine.

He only smirks before his lips work their magic against your neck. His tongue licks at the spot below your ears before he bites and tugs at your earlobes. Aside from his dominating personality in bed, Jungkook’s soft side for you always showed through, always waiting for permission, always putting your comfort first.

You nod your head in a gesture for him to continue.

There was no build-up to his bruising pace. As soon as you feel the grip of one hand on your waist and the other under your shoulder you know you’re not going to be able to walk straight the next day. His hips snap against yours, and with the angle of your legs, you can already feel your orgasm building again.

His mouth finds yours again, but the way he kisses you juxtaposes the way he’s fucking you in force and feeling. Jungkook’s lips are soft and sweet against yours, perfectly contrasting the hard thrusts from his hips. The combination alone draws a string of uncontrollable moans from your throat, one particularly hard thrust prompts you to scream his name.

“Shh, baby, I don’t want to get shit from the other guys anymore,” he pushes two of his fingers into your mouth. You moan again at their intrusion and happily accept them, not missing your opportunity to look at him with innocence in your eyes as you suck on the digits.

“Fuck.” He pulls his mouth from your fingers and before you can blink, he has you flipped onto your stomach. He lifts your hips a little to place a pillow underneath, and pushes himself back inside of you, all so quickly that you hadn’t even taken a breath before he was thrusting into you again.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head at the new angle. Jungkook drapes his body over you as he fucks into you from behind, using his tattooed hand to move your hair from your face. The same hand takes the liberty to wrap around your throat with the pressure he knows you like. When you smile at the feeling, he can’t help but kiss the corner of your mouth.

If only you knew the effect you had on him matched the one he had over you.

“Touch yourself for me, princess,” he whispers in your ear and you swear you’ve never moved faster; it was almost as if your movement were involuntary. His wish was your command.

“Guk, ‘m so close,” you manage to squeak out in broken breaths.

“Me too,” he groans. “Ladies first?” At that, he sits up and angles your hips higher to hit your g-spot with more force than before. In combination with your fingers working circles into your clit, the new angle is all it takes for you to come crashing down.

The man above you follows soon after, your involuntary clenching forcing him to meet his end. He quickly pulls himself out and aggressively strokes his release onto your back.

The collapse of your body causes the bed to seemingly swallow you whole. Jungkook falls directly next to you moments later. You both lay there, panting, blissed-out messes. His hand reaches up to push your hair off your face. When you make eye contact with him, you both turn into giggly messes. The current atmosphere of the room was lighthearted, contrasting the lecherous one that surrounded the two of you for most of the night.

Soon the post-sex haze fades, and you feel the sticky feeling of his release on your back and you feel dreadfully uncomfortable.

You kick your leg at the boy next to you. “Guk, towel please?”

He hums and rolls himself off the bed, somehow landing on his feet effortlessly. As he walks toward his bathroom, you admire the view. Who were you to deny yourself the simple pleasure of staring at his ass, if the opportunity presented itself?

He uses the towel to wipe the stickiness from your skin. His gentleness would surprise you, based on how different it was from how he approached sex, but you’ve been seeing Jungkook for a little over two months now. He had a surprisingly sweet demeanor. The towel is quickly discarded and you hum as you sit up.

“Thank you,” you giggle at him before standing up and heading toward the bathroom, not forgetting to retrieve your crumpled dress from the floor.

“Hey, are you going home?” Jungkook asks quickly when he notices the garment hanging from your hand.

“Um, I was thinking about it. Why?” You say hesitantly while you stand at the threshold of the bathroom, you suddenly feel shy under his gaze. An indiscernible look passes through his eyes at your words.

“I just… I can take you back if you want me to. Or... I mean, only if you want to… you could stay here. Maybe?”

This was new to you. You’ve never seen Jungkook look so unsure of himself. Normally, the picture of confidence personified, the frat boy in the bed before you looks small, almost timid. You could feel your heart doing backflips at his proposal.

It wasn’t the first time you and Jungkook had spent the night together, but that was normally only when you two were both too incapacitated to operate a car. This feels different, somehow; if it was because you started to realize how you feel about Jungkook, you aren’t sure.

But what you were sure of was that you could never say no to him. You wordlessly make your way back to the bed and curl up in his arms. If nothing else, you can feel his love for the night and move on with your day by morning. As the end of another cycle draws near, you silently hope it will begin again, as it always does. Jungkook, as he holds you against his chest, is the last thing on your mind when you drift asleep.

You suspect he’s going to take up a permanent residence in there, no matter how much you try to avoid it.

The next morning, you wake up before Jungkook. After dreaming of him all night, you’re absolutely terrified by the prospect of being there when he wakes up.

There was no fear that he would stir with your movements about his room as you collect all of your things. He slept like a rock and you’re pretty sure that not even a tornado, hurricane, or any other apocalypse-causing natural disaster could wake him up in the morning.

You sneak out of his bedroom wearing his massive t-shirt and a pair of boxers he had lent you before you fell asleep last night. The door clicks shut and of course, Yoongi’s bedroom door across the hall is wide open as you’re leaving.

The shit-eating grin on his face is enough to convey his amusement at the situation before him. He raised his hands to his forehead and salutes you, prompting your middle finger to raise and give him a salute of your own.

You don’t give him enough time to make a comment to you about the clothes before scurrying to the stairs. You sit on the top steps and hastily slide on your boots. Thankfully you chose the chunky Doc knockoffs in lieu of the heels you were originally planning. You were already obviously doing the walk of shame, at least you had decent shoes to do it in to keep a sliver of your dignity.

Once you reach the bottom of the stairs, you note the state of the party room on your way to the front door. It looks like a booze-filled bomb had gone off; there were red solo cups covering the floor and the smell of alcohol hit you squarely in the face. You quicken your pace because if you stay any longer, you could see yourself getting violently ill.

The sun nearly burns your eyes out of your head when you open the door. You have to take a second to adjust to the light before you can move down the front steps. The cul-de-sac where all the frat houses resided was in a similar state to what you saw inside. Finals week was over and everybody took the opportunity to celebrate it.

Your phone starts vibrating in the small clutch in your hand when you reach the sidewalk. The name on the screen pulls a groan from your throat, you were too hungover to be berated right now.

“You’re lucky I have your location, otherwise I would kill your stupid ass for leaving me to wonder where you went last night,” Jimin’s smirk was evident through the phone.

“Should I really have to tell you when we’re in Jungkook’s fraternity where I’m going to end up when the night ends?” You quip back at him and he giggles at you.

“When are you coming home? Last I checked you were still there.” You hear shuffling on his end of the line and you suspect that he’s just now getting out of bed himself.

You pull your phone away from your face quickly and realize it’s almost noon. “Shit, I didn’t realize it was that late. I’m walking back now, I’ll be home in a minute.” You don’t wait for his response before hanging up.

It was moments like this that you were glad your apartment was only a street over from the fraternity village. When you and Jimin had scouted out your place, it was solely for the price and quality that you chose it. Your proximity to your campus’s party central was an added bonus.

It’s comical the way Jimin stands on the balcony with his sunglasses on and his hip popped to the side. You can’t help but stop at the door to your building and laugh at him.

“I thought shackers were supposed to be out by 11?” He asks cheekily.

“Oh please, when you find some poor girl to share your time with, I go whole weekends without seeing you!”

His jaw drops in feigned offense, but he says nothing. He breaks the character with a chuckle and reenters your apartment, you do the same. When you reach the second story, your hand doesn’t even make it to the doorknob before your roommate pulls it open. He grabs you by the wrist and drags you through the door.

“You can shower when you tell me what happened last night. We weren’t even there for an hour before you disappeared.” He spins you by your shoulders to sit you on the couch.

To anybody on the outside, Jimin and your relationship was odd, but you made it work. Two years ago, you and he had met at a party, shamelessly flirted, kissed, and immediately recoiled. Kissing Jimin felt wrong, and he shared your sentiment in that regard. From then on though, you and he had been thick as thieves, attached at the hip, and any other expression that conveyed best-friendship. You two told each other everything, including anecdotes about your sex life, which is usually the point at which any outsider to your relationship got uncomfortable with your candidness.

“What can I say, Jimin, I went there for one purpose and I very quickly got exactly what I wanted.” You giggle, but it doesn’t reach your eyes. You’re hoping he didn’t catch it.

Of course, though, the boy above you knew you like the back of his hand. Nothing you could do or say at this point would stop the quizzical look in his eyes. “Spill, Y/N.”

You dropped your head and rubbed the back of your neck before you dramatically threw yourself into the back of the couch. “I think I’m starting to like him,” you admit, with as little emotion as you can muster. You don’t know why, but the urge to cry right now is strong. You toss the feelings back into the deep abyss that is your subconscious before they can take over.

“Woah, hey!” He drops onto the couch beside you with concern in his eyes. “It’s time to run. We don’t do feelings for people in this house, were young, out-of-control college kids remember. We don’t have time for that.”

“I know, Jimin, but he’s so addicting. Like one minute he is drilling me into the mattress and the next he’s kissing my cheek and telling me how pretty I am. It makes my brain go to mush!”

“Damn, he’s good.”

“Jimin,” you warn. The look in your eyes tells him to watch his words carefully.

“Alright, in all seriousness, you know what kind of guy he is. I’m honestly surprised that you’ve slept with him for this long. I don’t remember the last time you’ve kept a guy around for longer than a couple of weeks.”

It was true. It sounded worse than it was, you would go through bursts of “uncontrollable horniness” as Jimin called it. You could go months without having sex, but then you would find a guy to sleep with for a couple of weeks until you got bored or he tried to cuff you, then you would cut it off and move into another dry spell. It was unconventional sure, but it worked for you. Jimin only had so much room to make fun of you for it, he was a certified man-whore.

“I don’t know, dude. I know I should stop because I can feel myself getting attached to him, but I just… I don’t want to.” You groan at your situation. Why did you have to pick the most perfect human on the planet as your booty call?

“Which is exactly why you need to stop. I don’t want to hurt your feelings, babe, but I doubt he shares yours.” You only nod at his statement and stare blankly at the ceiling.

A few moments of silence pass between the two of you before he pats your thigh and stands up. “C’mon smelly, go take a shower, you smell like dick,” Jimin grins at you and reaches out his hand to drag you off the couch.

You half-heartedly laugh at him and take his hand. He pushes you toward your bathroom before going back to the kitchen to make the two of you something to eat.

The person staring back at you in the mirror looks like she’s been hit by a train. There’s mascara smeared under your eyes and your hair closely resembles a bird’s nest. While you’re rubbing the makeup from your eyes with a wipe, your phone vibrates on the counter next to you.

*12:13 pm*

Gukkie: Hey, when did you leave? Sorry I slept through it haha

Speak of the devil and he doth appear.

You ignore the text and strip before hopping into the shower. Silently, you hope that the scalding water will burn last night from your memory.

“Damn, was your shower long enough? I thought I was going to have to send a rescue party in there,” Jimin teases as you step out of your bathroom.

“The only way to kill the diseases you pick up in a frat house is to burn them off your skin.”

You slide into the stool at your kitchen counter as Jimin sets a mug of your favorite tea and waffles in front of you. You thank him with a smile and he only smiles back before going back to his own nearly finished plate of food.

“Do you want to talk about it some more?” Jimin asks you, and for a second you consider playing dumb as to the subject he’s referring to, but you know it won’t work.

“I honestly don’t know. Ask me later?”

He nods and grabs your hand from across the counter, sending you a wink. “You got it.”

It’s when you’re bingeing a new show with Jimin later that evening that you remember you never bothered to answer Jungkook. Your phone on the coffee table was now pulling your attention completely away from the murder docu-series on the TV. Jimin is engrossed with the show and pays very little attention when you grab the device from the table.

When you unlock your screen, the little number icon hovering next to your messages alerts you to how much you’ve neglected your phone today. You open the app and scroll through, reading the various messages left for you by friends and family. Thankfully, all were unimportant, usually, just funny pictures or links that they thought you would find amusing.

You’re giggling at a message from your mom about your dog back home when you back out of the conversation and notice the only unread message was the one you had been avoiding since the early afternoon.

(12:13 pm) Gukkie: Hey, when did you leave? Sorry I slept through it haha

You debate just ignoring it altogether and just dealing with it the next time you saw him. That would be soon enough, considering that summer break was here and you knew that he wouldn’t be going home as most college students do. You decide against that. At the very least you want to keep him on your good side, you had never ignored him for this long. While your text conversations weren’t the most thrilling, the small bit of connection was enough to keep the two of you on the same page. At each other’s beck and call, that was.

(10:41 pm) You: i left around noon! i didn’t want to wake you up. i’ll bring your clothes back soon

You locked your screen after sending the message and returned your attention to the screen. That was indifferent enough, right?

Not even thirty seconds after you sent the message, the device vibrates on the couch next to you and you’re embarrassed at how quickly you scramble to pick it up. You look across the couch at your roommate, and he’s staring right back at you.

“Did he text you?” He asks, almost nonchalantly, but you pick up on a little bit of something in his voice. Disapproval, maybe?

For any of his faults, Jimin more than makes up for it in the way he cares about you like a sister. It’s almost as if he can sense that you’re probably going to get hurt by a stupid frat boy.

“Uh, yeah. But I’m just asking him when he’s free so I can drop his clothes off. That’s all,” you quickly reply and you silently applaud yourself for the steadiness of your voice. He has a look in his eyes that says he wants to say more on the subject, but he doesn’t. Instead, he chooses to only nod and return his attention back to the screen. He grabs onto your calves the are slung across him in a silent gesture: I’m here for you, always.

(10:42 pm) Gukkie: Don’t worry about it! I’m sure I’ll see you soon ;)

(10:43 pm) You: something tells me you’re right about that

(10:43 pm) Gukkie: Maybe you could swing by tomorrow, sometime? I’ll be at the house all day so you can drop the clothes off

Right, as if you would only drop off his clothes and leave.

(10:44 pm) You: sure, i’ll talk to you tomorrow !

(10:44 pm) Gukkie: Sleep tight, princess :)

You don’t sleep.

You’re pacing back and forth with Jungkook’s clothes in your hand, debating whether or not to ding dong ditch and leave them on his porch. Last night, what very little sleep you did get was plagued by dreams of the curly-haired frat boy down the road. The feelings you felt for him are surprisingly strong, considering you just realized you really did like him. Maybe they had been building up for a while and when you allowed yourself to accept them, they hit you harder.

Regardless of why they were so pervasive was lost on you, but there was no denying their presence. You could feel anxious hies rising up your neck at the thought of facing Jungkook.

On one hand, you’re dealing with the excitement about seeing his cute bunny smile and inevitably, his sculpted body, if this visit turned into how you suspected it would. On the other hand, you’re terrified. Every time you spend your time with Jungkook, those feelings are probably only going to grow.

This would be the last time with him, you decide before you walk out of your apartment building. You already know that there is no way you could say no to him, so if he decided that he wanted to have sex with you today, that’s exactly what was going to happen. It’s not like you don’t want to. You’d be a fool to turn down sex with him, but you fear the way it made you feel. After Saturday night, it was obvious that you felt more than the normal, post-sex happiness when you were with him.

His fraternity’s house comes into view, the parking lot nearly empty signaling that most of his brother’s had gone home for the summer. His car and Yoongi’s remained, among a few others. You roll your eyes seeing the elder’s vehicle, knowing that he was going to tease you either on your way in or out.

You hesitate a little at the front door, unsure if you should knock or just walk in. Strangely enough, in the two months you had been sleeping with Jungkook, you had never been to the house during the day.

You don’t get to think about how odd it is seeing the brick building during the day when the door opens and the boy who’s been haunting your dreams beams at you with his infuriatingly adorable smile.

“Hi,” you say awkwardly. “Here are your clothes… I washed them.” You thrust the clothes forward into his hand.

He runs his free hand through his hair and snickers. “Thanks, you didn’t have to wash them.”

“It’s no problem!” You say a little too eagerly and you’re slapping yourself for it.

“Are you going to come in or just stand there and stare at me?” He asks you with an amused look on his face.

“Shut up,” you say as you brush past him and walk into the house. You don’t bother looking back at him as you follow the path up to his bedroom, knowing he’s following you, as he always does.

You’re not sure when the rain started, but the sounds were lulling you into a peaceful afternoon slumber. Jungkook’s bedsheets were always clean, unlike most of the guys you slept with. The soft fabric against your naked body, mixed with the soft light and sounds from the weather outside, gave you a sense of calm you hadn’t felt in the last 48 hours.

Your head is turned toward the window, eyes shut. It wasn’t that you were necessarily avoiding looking at Jungkook, lately, it seemed like it was the only thing you wanted to do, but you just happened to fall in that position after the activities of the last two hours.

Jungkook is sitting on his side, resting his head on one hand as he looks out the same window. He sighs, but you have a hard time in your half-conscious state determining the meaning behind the sigh. For now, you were just content with the soft fingers he was using to draw patterns across your exposed back. You couldn’t think about much past that.

“Y/N, are you asleep?” He asks while scooting closer to you. You hum in response and turn your head to face him. He uses his hand to brush your hair away from your face, so tenderly you barely feel his fingers when they run across your cheeks. “I’ll take that as a no.”

“No, I’m awake, just resting my eyes.” You slowly open your eyes and take note of him. He has a small smile on his face, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

A pang of something akin to hurt strikes you in the heart. You realize that he’s probably trying to kick you out. It was the middle of the day and you were overstaying your welcome.

“I’m sorry, I just realized I’m probably taking up your whole day,” you sat up quickly and bend toward the foot of the bed to grab your top.

“Wait,” he rushes out and pulls you back down to lay down and face him. “Stay with me for a little bit. At least until the rain stops?”

You look down at the bedsheets below you and pick at a ball of fuzz to distract yourself. A sad smile graces your features when you look back at him. “I don’t think I should.”

“Oh… Okay,” he looks upset at that but you don’t want to think about it too long before you sit up again and put your clothes back on. When you return to the bed to grab your phone, you notice that he’s gotten himself back into a pair of basketball shorts and is watching you as you move about his space. “At least let me drive you home?”

You nod your head in agreement and smile at him. “Thank you.”

The walk to the door and following dash to his car through the rain is silent between the two of you. Luckily, though you know he was lurking somewhere, you didn’t have to face Yoongi. It was the small victories that would take you through today.

The drive lasted less than two minutes but felt like fiver years with the awkward silence that hung around you. It was clear by your actions that this would be over after today, neither of you having to actually say the words out loud.

Jungkook pulled into the spot right in front of the door to your building. At least he wasn’t going to make you walk through the pouring rain. Hopefully, this meant that he wasn’t angry, or at the very least, his ego wasn’t bruised by your unspoken break-up, for lack of a better term.

“Thanks for the ride,” you say as chipper as possible given the circumstances. You couldn’t bring yourself to meet his eyes.

“Yeah, sure… No problem.” He reaches up to rub the back of his neck. You noticed he does it when he’s embarrassed or feels awkward without realizing it. You were going to miss that, among many other things.

You opened the door and were about to step out into the rain when he touches your shoulder. You look at him confused. He looks confused as well, shocked at his own hand for the involuntary action.

“I-I’ll see you around?” He asks, an indiscernible look in his eyes.

“I- yeah, I’ll see you around,” you smile at him gently. He pulls his hand back like the temperature of your skin is burning his own.

You quickly jump out of the car and run up to the front of the building - to avoid as much rain as you could and to get away from the boy behind you. You don’t look back.

When you push open the door to your apartment, Jimin is sitting in the recliner and scrolling through his phone. It only takes one look at your slightly damp clothes and the tears welling up in your eyes for him to hop out of his seat and make it to you at record speed.

“I’m sorry, babe,” Jimin soothes his hand down your unruly hair as you lightly cry against his shoulder. “Did you tell him anything?”

You shake your head. What would be the point? When you and Jungkook agreed to forgo sleeping with other people and engage in a friends-with-benefits-type relationship, you both made it clear that there were to be no feelings involved. You knew he wouldn’t have changed his mind about that. The only thing to gain from sharing your feelings with him would be outright rejection, and you’d rather not deal with that.

Jimin just goes back to patting your head and rocking you lightly, not caring that your hair and clothes were getting him damp too. You don’t know what you did in a past life to be so fortunate to have him as your best friend.

You’re standing like that for quite a while before you both hear a knock at your door. You move out of the way to sit on the couch and let Jimin answer the door. The last thing you wanted the person at the door to see were your bloodshot eyes and shaggy appearance.

“Can I talk to Y/N?” Jungkook’s voice startles you up off the couch. Your panicked movements draw the attention of both your roommate and the frat boy. Jimin just smiles slightly at you and moves out of the way before walking into his room. You had a feeling he would listen to the whole conversation though his door.

You walked up to the door with your head down. His breathing was ragged at as you scanned from his feet up to his eyes, you found that he was soaked. “Why are you soaked?”

“I ran here.”

“But you just drove me home?”

“Oh, I, uh, got home and forgot I was going to loan my car to one of my brother’s and then I… ran here.” He explains, but the confused look in your eye is enough to tell him that you’re not following his story whatsoever. You didn’t understand why he had to come back to your apartment, nor his urgency in doing so.

“What are you doing here?” You wish you sounded a little less sad when you said that, but you didn’t really care at this point.

“I came because I need to say something to you. I- wait have you been crying?” Jungkook steps closer to you and grabs your cheeks to look into your eyes. It takes everything in you not to melt into him and grab his hands from your cheeks.

“What did you have to tell me, Guk?” You ask him in the most even voice you can manage.

“No, Y/N answer me first, please?” Your outright rejection of his touch doesn’t stop him from running his hands up and down your arms.

“Yes,” you answer, your voice uneven as your eyes betray you and begin to well up again.

Jungkook pulls you against his body, holding you tightly against him. “Why?” He whispers the question so quietly in your ear, almost as if he raises his voice any higher you would shatter.

You take a shaky breath, deciding to just say it. “You.”

He pulls back abruptly to look you in the eyes, the confusion across his brow mixes with hurt in his eyes. “Me?”

“I like you,” you blurt out, tears slowing to a gradual drip. “But I know you don’t feel the same, so please don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” He asks, but the look is still painted across his features.

“With pity.”

“Pity? I’m just confused.” He readjusts his grip on you to bring a hand back to your cheek. You can feel your heart pounding out of your chest while he forces you to look into his eyes.

He doesn’t say anything, instead he just brings your face forward to crash his lips into your own. It’s different from the kisses you’ve shared in the past. The ones before filled with lust, this one was tender and intense.

“Y/N, I like you too. Why do you think I ran through the rain to get back here?” He puts his forehead against yours.

“You do?” You pull your forehead from his to meet his eyes.

“Obviously. I was going to tell you earlier but you seemed like you wanted to go home so badly, so I figured I screwed up.” He sighed, a small smile of relief on his face.

“You should’ve said it earlier then, dummy!” You playfully smacked his chest and sniffled.

“I wish I would’ve, then I wouldn’t have had to see you cry.” The hand on your cheek slips behind your head and pulls you forward so he could plant a kiss on your forehead. When he loosens his grip, you pull back to look at him.

“Would you like to come inside?” You motion behind you. Jungkook answers by kissing you back into your apartment.

He breaks apart from you once the door is shut and looks at you with a cocky grin on his face. “Wait until I rub it in Yoongi’s face that you’re my girlfriend. He said you would never say yes.”

“Girlfriend, huh?” You ask while grinning up at him. There was a lot that had to be addressed in that statement, but you decided to let it slide for a later conversation.

“Uh, yeah… Is that okay?” He looks a little insecure, realizing what that he said without asking you if you wanted that.

You just giggle at him and kiss him again. You nod into the kiss, that was growing much more heated by the second.

“And that's my cue! I’m leaving,” Jimin escapes from his room and runs out the door before either of you can blink. You both laugh at your best friend's antics.

“I’ll steal you some dry clothes from his room,” you say as you turn to walk into Jimin’s room.

Jungkook quickly grabs you from behind and kisses the spot below your ear. “Who says I need clothes?”

You turn your head to look at him and consider glaring for a second. The blinding bunny smile pointed in your direction squashes any of your ideas about reprimanding him. He kisses your cheek and runs into your bedroom, stripping off his clothes along the way. You giggle at his behavior.

“Baby! I’m naked and I’m in your bed - a little disappointed that you aren’t!”

Again, who were you to say no?

a/n: im not even sure if anybody is really active on this blog anymore, but i got bored and decided to write this! it is unedited, i dont really mind though :) this is for the people that sent me messages saying that they would want to see this once it was finished. i did write it under the influence initially (as stated previously, i am of legal age!!), so it required quite a bit of editing! sorry for the delay!

#jungkook #bts jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #bts smut #bts #bts fluff #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #college!jungkook #college!bts

957 notes · View notes

savemesomenachos · 3 years

Note

So I was thinking about Bucky not being able to 'perform' because he's been stressed and preoccupied. And reader thinks it's their fault because Bucky doesn't address the situation. They eventually get him to talk and he tells them how he's feelings and then proves it's not reader's fault. Could just be fluffy or if you want to, include smut...works either way. Thank you 😘

This request is just 🤌🏽💋✨Have fun babe!!!

Not What It Seems

AN: This has been in my drafts for forever and I’m finally back to posting, so I’m excited

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Gender Neutral! Reader

Warnings: a few lines of smut, fluff and angst

TW: Mild panic attack - hyperventilation, Self-doubt

Word Count: 1853

18+, Minors DNI

Y/n’s POV:

“Are you serious?” Natasha asks, shifting in her seat at the end of the couch. She lowers the volume of the TV to a dull murmur and turns to face me. She throws her legs up and her cold toes nudge the side of my thighs as she settles in.

“Dead serious. It was just so weird,” I say, picking at the nail I’d been nervously chewing since last night. My eyes flit between my phone on the coffee table and my fidgety hands.

“Doesn’t sound like him,” she says, twisting the lid off her beer and tossing it on the table with deft fingers and precision.

My eyes follow its path through the air wordlessly, and I sigh tiredly. I fold my legs under my thighs and extend a hand in Natasha’s direction. She hands me the beer with a comforting smile.

“Babe,” she says, placing a warm hand on my knee. “Wanna tell me the whole thing?” she asks, her eyes softening at my look of despair at narrating the ‘incident’ again.

“Fine,” I sigh handing her the beer again. “From the beginning?” I ask, side-eyeing her.

“If you want,” she says, settling back into her seat, with sympathetic eyes.

*Flashback*

“I missed you so fucking much,” I moan as I strip Bucky off his gear. He nods enthusiastically and aids me in unbuckling his very complicated buckles.

He crashes his lips to mine and I melt in his arms. His arms hold my body tightly to his as he nudges me back on the bed. I fall backward as Bucky slips my jeans off and crawls over me and his lips touch every path of skin he uncovers while taking my clothes off. His fingers tweak my nipples harshly and my back arches of the bed.

“Buck, s’too sensitive,” I whimper, trying to sit up. With a firm hand on my chest, he pushes me down again.

“I need to be inside you, now!” he whimpers, wide-eyed. His eyes glaze over for a second and I snap out of my need-filled haze.

“Hey,” I say as my hand comes in contact with his tense shoulder. “You ok?”

“Fine,” he rasps before slipping his pants off completely. “Please.”

“Are you sure? We can stop-” I’m cut off by a needy kiss pressed against my lips and a fist tightening in my hair.

He slips his pants off completely to reveal his semi-hard member. His lube coated hand wraps around his member and I see the muscles in his hands strain as he strokes his length. My hand reaches forward of its own accord to assist him but he slaps it away. He crawls over me again and settles his arms on either side of my head. His member slides in back and forth motions against my tight hole and I whimper in anticipation. Slowly, he starts to push in with a hiss.

His thrusts drive sharp and hard but slow, almost teasing. My nails rake across his back and leave angry, red marks in its wake but that doesn’t deter him in the least. He redoubles his efforts with his hands gripping my waist so hard, they bruise. My gaze drifts from where our bodies are joined together to Bucky’s face. His eyes are screwed up in concentration with his tongue darting out to lick his chapped lips.

My body starts to convulse as an orgasm shakes me to the core but Bucky doesn’t stop. His thrusts don’t slow until suddenly, I hear him grunting in frustration. Abruptly he pulls out and kneels on the bed in between my legs with sweat dripping down his forehead and his fists clench and unclench from where they rest on his thighs. I lean up on my elbows and my eyes rake over his body to look for signs of injury.

“Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” I ask, sitting up completely, my hand reaching out to touch his arm.

He flinches before my hand makes contact and I pause, my eyes wide. His eyes find mine but they look empty. He crawls off the bed and walks into the shower without another word. I bite my lip nervously, debating whether to join him but I finally decide against it.

*End of Flashback*

“Wow,” Natasha sighs, her eyes widening in surprise.

“I know,” I say, grabbing the beer out of her hand. She doesn’t fight it, deciding I need it more than her.

“You talk to him yet?”

“He’s always at missions Tasha. He hasn’t taken a break in forever and even when he is here, it’s like he’s not y’know?” I ask, taking a big swig before setting it down on the coffee table, the condensation leaving behind a ring of water.

“I think he’s gonna break up with me,” I say after a moment of silent contemplation. “I mean what else could it be? He’s never like this. I mean he doesn’t even sleep in our room anymore and I…” I trail off, tears forming in my eyes. My breath catches in my throat and Natasha shifts closer.

She wraps an arm around my shoulder and rubs my arm with calloused hands. I throw my arms around her waist and bury my tear soaked face in my chest.

“He loves you, I’m sure there’s a reason,” she says, rubbing comforting circles on my back.

“I don’t know, I just want him back,” I sob as my hands clutch her soft t-shirt.

“I know honey, I know,” She kisses my forehead and strokes my hair. Her body rocks me back and forth as my sobs start to subside.

“Y/n?” I hear a gruff voice whisper as a tall, hunched over figure steps into view.

I raised my hands to my face and harshly rub off any remnants of sadness and when my eyes finally adjust, I see Bucky standing a few feet away from the sofa with his hands wringing together nervously as his teeth sink into his lip, his eyes tearing a hole into me.

“Hey Buck. I didn’t know you were back,” I say, flashing him what I hope is a wide, excited smile as I get up off the couch and make my way toward him.

“I’ve been back for a while,” he says, his eyes flitting to Natasha’s for a second. What he sees there upsets him and his hand wraps around my wrist immediately. He starts to lead me away as I sputter protests and turn to look at Natasha for help. She shrugs in response and turns back to her beer.

Bucky takes us all the way to our shared room where he hasn’t slept in the past weeks and locks the door behind us. He drops my hand and paces the length of the room with his hands clutching his hair in a white-knuckled grasp.

“Bucky, is everything-”

“How could you think I was breaking up with you?” he asks, turning to face me, his hands coming up to tightly grasp my shoulders.

“Y-You heard that?” I whisper, my gaze dropping to the floor.

“Super-soldier hearing. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop but I heard you say that you thought I was gonna break up with you so I stopped to listen,” he says, his hand squeezing my shoulders.

“I-I didn’t know what to think. You’ve been so distant the past few weeks so I thought…” I trailed off, hoping he would understand.

“I know, I’m sorry,” he says, pulling me to sit on the bed next to him. His head leans forward to rest on my shoulder while his arm snakes around my waist and pulls me closer.

“Honey,” he says, his fingers playing with the hem of my t-shirt. “I’m not gonna break up with you.”

“Then why have you been acting so weird?” I ask, turning to face him, forcing him to look me in the eye.

“I fucked up on that mission,” he whispers, his gaze sullen, on the floor. “It was HYDRA and there were so many people. So many children. I couldn’t get them out. I couldn’t save them.”

Tears slide down his cheeks and pool on his lips. Before he could wipe them away, my fingers graze his cheek as I turn him to face me. I wipe away the tracks of tears and he leans forward to bury his face in my shoulder while wrapping his arms around my back.

“It’s ok baby. Let it out,” I say, rubbing circles on his back as his sobs intensify and soak my neck and shoulder. “You can’t save everyone Bucky. The important part is that you did your best.”

“But it wasn’t enough!” he shouts as his hands rake down my back and clench my t-shirt in between his fingers.

“I know it feels like that but you’re doing enough Bucky. You’ve been on missions non-stop, without any breaks and it’s enough,” I say, my hand drifting up to card through his hair as his sobs turn to sniffles and his breath comes out faster.

“It’s not enough, it’s not,” he begins to mumble under his breath as he begins to hyperventilate.

“Hey, hey,” I say, dragging his attention to me by guiding his face to mine. “You’re enough, you hear me? I love you and you’re enough. Your friends love you and you’re enough. That will never change. I promise you,” I say, my eyes blazing. My hands grip either of his cheeks and I see the sadness and self-doubt swirling in his eyes.

“I love you Bucky. So fucking much,” I continue, his breathing starting to even out.

“Really?” he asks, sniffling, his hands coming to grip my waist.

“Yes, I do,” I say, my voice unwavering.

“I-I love you too,” he says, his eyes and nose red from all the crying. “I know I don’t say it often but I do.”

“I know honey. I know,” I say, drawing him for another hug. I whisper sweet nothings in his ear and rock us back and forth with Bucky desperately clutching at my t-shirt and his head nuzzled in my chest.

After a while, he pulls away with a small smile on his face and I take comfort in the face that he feels better.

“Better?” I ask, cradling his wet cheek in my palm.

“Yeah,” he whispers, leaning forward and planting a sweet kiss on my lips. Suddenly, his arms wrap around my waist and pull me closer and his lips press more firmly into mine. I squeak in surprise but moan at the relief of finally feeling him so close after a while. He pulls away leaving us both panting for air and rests his forehead against mine.

“What was that for?” I ask with a breathy chuckle.

“It was a ‘I love you’,” he whispers, smiling at the blush that covers my cheeks.

“You’re such a cheeseball when you want to be,” I say, bringing my hands up to hide my red face.

“You love it,” he says, cheekily.

“Yeah,” I whisper, placing a kiss on the tip of his scrunched up nose. “I do.”

TAGLIST:-

Permanent: @julyvegan @tenaciousperfectionunknown@mysweetlittledesire @bbl32 @noshame-bb @cece5 @white-wolf1940 @marvelfansworld @jassiejj2118 @christowhore @sia2raw @amelia-song-pond @lovewolfspirit @iwannabekilledtwice @mollyscoffee @sohoseb @thetattletaleheart @thesparklynavillera@waywardwifey @the-lonely-poet-loves-to-weep @honeymarvel@hart-failure @Clints-worldavengers

*if your username is in italics and with a strikethrough, it means I couldn’t tag you for some reason*

If you wanna be tagged in my works, lemme know here

You can find my other works on my Main Masterlist.

234 notes · View notes

iliveiloveiwrite · 3 years

Text

I find myself travelling back to you // Simon Basset

Request: Could you possibly write a Simon Basset fic where maybe the reader is like a childhood friend and he bumps into them and they talk and catch up with maybe some romance or something - anon

A/N: My first Simon fic! I am a little uncertain of this as I am not sure whether I have Simon’s character down yet. I hope you all like! Thank you for requesting, I hope I have done it justice.

Pairing: Simon Basset x Fem!Reader

Warnings: childhood friends, pining, mutual pining, fluff, some angst, she/her pronouns, female reader.

Word count: 3.8k

There was not a cloud in the sky as you made your way through Mayfair after having turned down a carriage. Instead, you chose to walk away the morning, happy to feel the warmth of the sun through the layers of your dress.

The streets had started out as quiet; a few souls here and there, but they soon grew busier and busier as routines were started. Dodging bodies here and there, you found it hard to be annoyed at the crowds – the weather too perfect for your mood to be sullied.

A flash of deep red amongst the crowd has your eyes and body on alert; the sound of a deep voice has your ears pricking. “Simon?” You call out, eyebrows furrowing as you spy a familiar head of hair making their way through the crowds.

“(Y/N)?” The man in question answers, eyes wide as he takes in your form.

“It’s been so long,” You whisper, staring into his brown eyes. “I suppose I should call you ‘Your Grace’ now. I was sorry to hear of the passing of your father,” You comment softly, not overly sorry for the death of the man who had mistreated his son so poorly but offering your condolences as a form of social etiquette.

Nodding his head, Simon smiles at you. “Thank you,” He gestures to the elderly lady on his arm, “I am sure you remember Lady Danbury.”

You smile widely at the elderly lady as she grins back at you. “Of course I do,” You laugh, “We meet at least once a week to have tea.”

If possible, Simon’s eyes grow wider to the point where Lady Danbury snorts. “Really now, Simon. Did you expect us ladies to go our separate ways when you left the country?”

“Of course not,” Simon drawls, amused by the elder. “I just didn’t realise you had a close relationship.”

“Well we do. That reminds me,” Lady Danbury pipes up, “I will not be able to make our tea appointment this week, dear (Y/N). My grandson, Gareth, is visiting.”

“Of course, Lady Danbury. We can always rearrange to the following week.”

“Nonsense,” She declares, slamming her cane onto the ground, “Simon will meet with you.”

Casting your gaze to the tall gentleman, it is not hard to miss to the surprise in his eyes. Shaking your head, you state, “I am sure the Duke has more pressing issues than tea with an old friend.”

Lady Danbury opens her mouth to protest your point but is beaten by the Duke. “I have nothing so pressing that cannot be rearranged. I shall meet you tomorrow, I assume Lady Danbury knows the spot.”

With a nod of your head, Simon smiles. He reaches out, grabbing your gloved hand and presses a kiss to the back of it. “Until tomorrow then,” He promises, stepping away from you with Lady Danbury in tow.

“Until tomorrow,” You whisper, watching the strong figure of your childhood friend walk away from you.

Glancing up at the still cloudless sky, you wonder how it is possible that the world keeps spinning when your own has changed so much. Simon left the country years ago, and even then, contact with the man was few and far between. He had left for school and seemingly left you behind. The very fact that he was happy to have tea with you sent shockwaves through your body; not a word for so many years and then this out of the blue.

Now glaring at the sky, you wonder whether there wasn’t a larger game afoot. One that had you reuniting with the childhood love that had left you a bereft teenager; it had you hoping you would not be left a heartbroken adult.

------

The pleasant weather was to continue, you thought to yourself as you sat down in the drawing room. Despite the calmness of the room; the sweet sound birdsong outside of your window, your stomach would not calm. Instead, it was threatening to make a mockery of your breakfast. A missive had arrived late yesterday evening from Lady Danbury explaining that Simon would indeed be calling on you for the promised tea.

Smoothing out your pale blue skirts, you wish desperately that you had brought something to keep you occupied as you wait for his imminent arrival. You curse the fact that you left your latest cross-stitch upstairs in your room, having worked on it late into the night. You could have used it to the pass the time to keep your mind busy.

“The Duke of Hastings,” The butler announces, startling you slightly, stepping aside for Simon to stride into the room.

Simon smiles widely as he spots you standing by the table; he rushes over to you, reaching for your hand, placing a lingering kiss to the back of it before straightening. “(Y/N),” He greets, breathless as if he had rushed all the way over here.

“Simon,” You answer, smiling just as widely.

Following his lead, you take a seat at the table, waiting for the tea service to be brought up.

“How is Lady Danbury?” You question, trying to fill the time for the service to arrive.

Simon laughs. “It seems she is on the warpath. Her grandson, Gareth, arrived this morning still out of sorts from the previous night.”

“No!” You gasp, “He’s barely of age!”

“That is what dear Lady Danbury was reminding poor Gareth as she swung her cane at him. I thought I better leave before her attention and her cane turned to me.”

“A good decision to have made.”

“Definitely,” Simon agrees, “As I was leaving, Gareth was promising his grandmother not to touch another drop of alcohol again though I doubt that promise will stick.”

“Poor Gareth,” You lament, thinking of the times you had been on receiving end of a lecture from Lady Danbury. “She does love him so though.”

“She does,” Simon states, “I remember his birth. It feels so long ago.”

You hum in agreement; wondering how quick time had flown by. Gareth was to be part of the next generation of society; he was to bring it into its future, especially if his grandmother had anything to say about it.

“How long have you been home?” You ask, pouring the both of you some tea now that it had arrived.

“I travelled to Clyvedon to settle things there before journeying down to London. I’ve been back in England just short of a month.”

“Oh,” You murmur, trying your best not to feel hurt that he hadn’t actively sought you out. After all, it had been years since you had last spoken. No correspondence had been exchanged throughout the duration of his travels; Lady Danbury had been the one to update you on where Simon was in the world. He hadn’t written you a single letter despite the long friendship that you still held dear. Instead, it had been an utter coincidence, a meeting in the streets that had proved to you he was still alive and breathing.

“I wanted to come see you,” Simon states, feeling bad about the broken sound that had left your mouth just now. He wasn’t one to talk so openly about his feelings, but he found himself needing to explain to you that he hadn’t stopped thinking of you since he stepped foot on English soil.

“Did you?” You question, sounding very much as if you did not believe a word leaving his mouth. By the unimpressed expression on your face, Simon knew you did not believe him.

“I did, but I got so busy. There were estates to manage, ledgers to balance and announcements to be made. By the time I landed in London, I was so thoroughly exhausted that I simply wandered to Lady Danbury’s home and fell asleep on her chaise-lounge. She wasn’t impressed.”

You snort before realising the impropriety, “I can imagine.”

Simon laughs entertained by the thought of Lady Danbury’s face when she found him snoring away on her chair. “As punishment, she made me accompany her on a walk… where we ran into you.”

“What a punishment,” You drawl.

Simon rolls his eyes at your tone. “I like to think of it as a happy coincidence.”

“Then I shall look at it in the same manner.”

There was something different about the man sitting across from you. Was it how he held his spoon? How he stirred his tea? Had the years abroad moulded him into a new person, one you could barely recognise?

Simon held himself entirely different to how he would when he was younger. His posture, perfect. His stance, brimming with confidence. It takes you aback somewhat as you take in the changes the years away at school and abroad have placed on his body.

Would your friendship still stand after so long apart? Is Simon simply placating Lady Danbury by having him meet you for tea? He talks such pretty words; can form sentences that leaves your mind in a spin, but this is the same man that had left the country without so much as a goodbye in your direction.

Reaching for your tea, you distract yourself from such intrusive thoughts. The tea clears your mind; letting you form a blank slate in your mind. “Enough talk of the past, no matter how recent,” You declare, “You left so long ago and came back a new person. It seems I need to get to know the new one.”

Simon smiles at you from his place across the table. “The same could be said for you too.”

You smile though it doesn’t reach your eyes. You don’t mention how you had spent the last few years turning down every marriage proposal offered to you due to your heart belonging to another even in its broken state. “Time is a marvellous thing,” You offer instead, grabbing a small cake from the stand.

“Indeed,” Simon murmurs, eyes following the cake from the plate to your mouth. Despite the time that had passed, his feelings had not changed. They had grown stronger instead. By now, Simon truly understood the meaning of absence making the heart grow fonder. All through his travels, he had cursed himself for not asking you to join him. Through every country, principality and dominion, Simon wondered how it would be for you to be there with him, experiencing the wonders of it all.

“Where was your favourite place to travel?” You ask, leaning forward slightly, “I’ve never travelled further than France.”

Simon nods, remembering your trip abroad with the same pang of sadness he felt back then. He knew logically that you were sat across from him, yet the longing in his body did nothing to help repress the urge to reach out for your hand across the table – to touch you so he would know that you were there, and this wasn’t a figment of his imagination.

“I think my favourite place to visit was Greece. I stayed on the mainland for a while before eventually making my way around the islands. Each island had its own charms, but there was one that had me questioning whether I could live there for the rest of my life. It was so calm, so quiet. Not even the thoughts in my head could distract me from its serenity.”

“Do you miss it?”

“The island?”

“The travelling.”

Simon sighs, staring out of the window as he thinks of over his answer. Eventually, he says, “I miss the sights and the people. I miss the smells and the food. However, I do not miss the time zones. There were moments where I didn’t know what time it was, let alone what day it was.”

“It sounds as if you had a magical time,” You sigh, trying your best not to think of Simon in the desperate heat of the Mediterranean.

“It had its moments,” Simon admits, thinking of the hours he had spent in markets, trying local delicacies and drinking traditionally made coffee. He had adored every second of his travels; he hadn’t minded the odd illness that came along with a new environment when there was so much to learn and so much to experience.

“Will you be travelling again soon?”

“It depends,” Simon answers.

“On?”

“On whether I find anything to keep me here.”

Silence falls over you both as you take in his words, trying to find the meaning of them. Taking a sip of your tea, you wonder whether your friendship with the Duke would be enough to keep him grounded at home for longer than a few weeks at a time. Your heart skips a beat at thought that you might not be enough; your feelings for the Duke had never surprised you. They had not surprised Lady Danbury when you showed up on her doorstep in floods of tears after Simon had left for the continent; she had simply welcomed you into her home with words of comfort and reassurances.

“Will you be attending Lady Danbury’s ball later this week?” You ask, needing to take your mind off that terrible evening.

Simon chuckles, placing his teacup on its saucer. “I shall be in attendance. I find it hard to turn down Lady Danbury. Will you be there?”

You nod, thinking of the dress you had made special. “I will. I’m quite excited if I’m to be honest.”

“Why is that?”

You shrug, “The theme, the music, the company. Lady Danbury never fails with her balls.”

“She does not,” Simon agrees, remembering the grandiosity of such events before he left to travel.

“So I shall see you there?” You ask, your voice hopeful as if daring to wonder whether Simon would attend before no doubt leaving the country once more.

“You shall. Would you save me a dance perhaps?” Simon asks, his usual mischief alight in his eyes.

You smile widely, “Always.”

--------

The rest of the week is spent in anticipation; desperate for the hours to quicken so you could walk through the home of Lady Danbury to find Simon already waiting for you. A hopeless dream, but a dream, nonetheless.

The Duke of Hastings remains on your mind for the rest of the week. One chance meeting and one organised tea and it seems that the man had made his home in your mind and brought to life the feelings you were certain were dormant.

With those feelings in mind, you prepare for Lady Danbury’s ball knowing full well you were about to spend the evening in the presence of Simon, but also watching the mothers of London’s available fawn over him as if he was a prize to be won. It was enough to make your blood boil.

Ridding yourself of such anger, you enter the home of Lady Danbury.

Lady Danbury never spared any expense when it came her to time to host the event of the season. She knew that it would be reported on, that it would be spoken about. She also knew that there was a chance that many matches could be made that night; so no expense could be spared in the battle for love matches among the ton.

The sight of the ballroom takes your breath away as you enter. Lady Danbury had chosen the theme of the moon, stars and sun – asking her guests to dress in colours relating to either. Your navy blue skirts swish together the further you walk into the room, distracted by the moon and star decorations hanging from the high vaulted ceilings.

You’re so enraptured by the scenery that you do not hear the footsteps approaching or the whispers of the women beside you. It isn’t until you hear him call your name that you turn your gaze from the silver decorations.

“Simon,” You greet with a smile, “How have you been?”

“Very well,” He replies, “And yourself?”

“I’m fine, thank you for asking.”

“You look wonderful,” Simon compliments; eyes raking up and down your body.

Your skin heats at his rapt attention; flashes of heat soaring through you as your mind begins to think of all sorts of scenarios where you could keep his eyes on you for much longer. “Thank you,” You answer, voice breathy, “You look very handsome too.”

“Would you do me the honour of dancing with me?” Simon asks, voice quiet in the loud room.

Nodding your head, you take his outstretched hand and allow him to lead you onto the dancefloor where many other couples are gathering.

Simon’s hand is soft on the small of your back; soft but insistent as it brings you closer to his own body. Wrapped up entirely in him, you find it hard to concentrate on the steps of the dance, easily being led around the dancefloor by the man who had captured your heart before you had even known the meaning of the word.

A large smile spreads over his face as he spins you out and brings you back. A surprised laugh leaves your lips as Simon spins you once more; the delight settling deep within your bones, melding to become a memory that would always be with you. Simon’s own laughter soons join yours and before long, neither of you are paying much attention and custom – the both of you having far too much fun in each other’s arms to be aware of the looks and glances being sent your way.

As the music fades into silence, Simon’s grip on you loosens reluctantly. He doesn’t want to let go of you; doesn’t know when the next time he can hold you this close will be. If he could, he would steal you away right now, but etiquette and his title demands he be a gentleman.

With a strained smile, Simon bows at you once before turning away without a word. So deep in his thoughts, he doesn’t see you escape to the gardens before it is too late.

------

The gardens at Lady Danbury’s home had always been spectacular, but in the night, they were even more magnificent. Despite the shadows of night, you were not scared as you walked down the paths, fingers absently brushing over the flowers of delicately blooming flora.

Rather, your mind was occupied by the one man who had returned into your life after such a sizeable absence. Simon had danced with you tonight, and every aspect felt so perfect. The way his hand covered yours; the way his palm felt pressed against the small of your back. Bringing your hand to your mouth, you hide the smile on your face as you think of the way he had laughed with you as he spun you across the floor. He had looked so young; so carefree, as if he hadn’t the weight of the world on his shoulders.

“I wondered where you had wandered off to,” A voice sounds from behind you, startling you.

“Simon!” You gasp, clutching your chest, “You scared me!”

He chuckles, holding his hands up in surrender as he steps closer to you. “That was not my intention,” He promises, his smile wide.

“What was your intention then?” You ask, an eyebrow raised in challenge.

“I wanted to ask you a question should you allow it.”

“We are alone,” You remind him, “We should move inside.”

“Please,” Simon pleads, “It won’t take long.”

You pause your steps. The cool night air settles around you as you wait for Simon to ask his question.

“Why did you never marry?” Simon demands; his eyes blazing with the need to know. “I know you had proposals; Lady Danbury even told me so.”

“There was never anyone good enough,” You confess, fisting your hands in the skirts of your dress to keep yourself from reaching out for him. “I tried. I really tried, but I always found myself thinking of you or wondering about you. Even though you never wrote, I still fell in love with you.”

Simon inhales sharply; not expecting your confession. You hadn’t expected to be so honest, but your heart was in control of your mouth; your mind taking a backseat on this one. Your heart had yearned after this man since you had learned the very definition of the word ‘love’.

“Why did you never write?” You ask, finally verbalising the question that had plagued your mind since the moment he had left.

He remains silent, so you repeat your question with a firmer voice. “Why did you never write, Simon?”

“If I had written to you, I would have come home.”

“Would that have been so bad?”

“I needed to get away, I had to leave. To do that, I had to cut strings with you, or I never would have become the man I am today. I never would have become worthy of you.”

“It is for me to decide whether you are worthy of me, Simon Basset. I have found you worthy of my love since you were ten years old and getting caught hiding a fish in the footmen’s bed if you must know.”

“For that long?” He asks; his voice a mere hoarse gasp as he battles with this new information.

“For that long,” You affirm.

“I always found myself travelling back to you,” Simon admits, “I would be in the furthest corner of the world and my mind would question why you were never by my side. On my last trip, I found myself packing my belongings with you on my mind before I had even made the decision to return home. My father was part of it, I’ll admit. But you… you were the whole reason why I returned to London.”

“What does this mean?” You ask, confused and emotional over the night’s confessions.

“It means I no longer want to travel the world if you are not by my side. It means I want to court you and follow the traditions of society. I have two loves in my life: travel and you.”

“You love me?”

He nods, “I have since I was a teenager.”

“I love you too,” You respond honestly, seeing no reason to lie in a moment like this.

“So,” Simon sighs as your words settle over him like a balm over an open wound, “Shall we do this properly? Courting and the like.”

“I think I would. I think we could start right now,” You whisper, stepping closer to the man who you felt certain was the love of your life.

“Right now?”

You nod you head, smiling widely as you reach for the lapels of his jacket. “I think we could start this very moment with a kiss. What do you think?”

Simon glances from side to side, checking for witnesses, “Only if you promise not to kiss another.”

“I don’t think that would be an issue,” You admit happily, “Kiss me, Simon.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice.

*******

Bridgerton Taglist: @heloisedaphnebrightmore @dreaming-about-fanfictions @now-its-time-for-a-breakdown @janelongxox @aspiringsloth20 @wallwriterstuff @magicalxdaydream @darkestbeforethedawn16 @gryffindors-weasley

#simon basset x reader #simon basset #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton #simon x reader #bridgerton imagines #simon basset fanfiction #simon basset imagines #duke hastings x reader

574 notes · View notes

writefightandflightclub · 3 years

Text

Right behind you:(Bodyguard!Santiago “Pope” Garcia x M!Celebrity!reader)

This is my offering for this week’s #writerwednesday from @autumnleaves1991-blog, which this week is joint with @flightlessangelwings’ Jey’s Pride celebration! 🥳

The verbal prompt was: glitter and/or “I’ll always be by your side.”

The visual prompt is the photo below.

This gave me the idea for a very quickly written one shot with bodyguard!Santi and male celebrity reader! I hope you like it!

Warnings: food mentions; mentions of panic attack / hyperventilating. Mentions of sensory overload. One mention of Santi “sucking off” reader. Language. TYPOS, undoubtedly.

Rating: mature for mentions of oral sex but no explicit / actual smut.

Gender stuff: he/him pronouns / masc! terms of endearment used for reader. Implied that reader is a penis owner - no other physical descriptions besides reader wearing a suit and some make-up.

Genre: angst then mainly fluff and happiness! Hurt / comfort, I guess.

ALSO: BONUS CAMEO FROM ANOTHER OSCAR CHARACTER. Did you spot him?

You perch on the couch in your suite, taking steadying breaths and trying desperately to ward off hyperventilation as your bodyguard grips your trembling hand firmly in his. The air is quaking in and out of your lungs and you can no longer help the tears which spike in your eyes and spill over on to your cheeks.

He gives your fingers a squeeze as he crouches before you, and you can’t help the surge of guilt that this is so far outside of his job description. He’s meant to protect you, not comfort you. His work centres on your physical well-being, but you can’t count the times he’s bolstered your emotional well-being too. Then again, this is the only time he’s done so quite as blatantly in front of the rest of your staff, perhaps.

“Oh no, don’t you dare cry, sweetie,” your make-up artist - who will not be getting rehired you decide suddenly- flaps around you, attempting to fuss over you with a tissue. Her panic about her work being ruined at the worst possible moment is plain as day, and it only makes your chest constrict further.

“This isn’t helping” is the only thought blaring loudly in your mind, but you cannot for the life of you push the words out right now. You shut your eyes in an attempt to block it all out. To subdue the sensory overload.

You are thankful that your bodyguard intuits that sentiment on your behalf when you can’t, and you hear his voice is coming from a different angle now, his head whipped sharply sideward and up towards the offending MUA.

“For real? Ffff....” you close your eyes and hear Santi bite down on a curse. You’d laugh if you weren’t so preoccupied, trying desperately to focus on his voice amidst the chaotic, intersecting hubbub of the room. “Ma’am, could you please back the shit up?” He bites. Apparently he can’t stifle the cursing entirely.

Your limp hand travels along with his as he waves his arm around emphatically. “In fact. Out. Everyone out. Now. Please.”

His request slices through the nervous air in the room, his words deep and commanding and delivered with an authority that you doubt anyone would dare question. This man must be obeyed, and in the back of your mind you congratulate yourself for your decision to take a chance on hiring this moody ex-soldier with creaky knees. When he needed to he could certainly clear a room. And on top of that, he offers you a whole lot more besides.

Indeed, here he is, going above and beyond, kneeling on said creaky knees for you. Protecting you, and comforting you too.

Your eyes are still closed as the room gradually quietens, until it is so still you could hear a pin drop. Until you can hear the steady rise and fall of Santi’s breath. Until you can hear the delicate wet noise of his lips parting so his tongue can skim his lips. You can hear him swallow.

As you hear the sound of the final remaining person shuffle out, and the door gently click closed behind them, you are finally able to peel open your eyes. You are able finally able to release your bottom lip from the grip of your teeth, an indent having formed where you have bitten down so hard you have threatened to draw blood.

Santi is as still as death as he waits, and as soon as he hears that final click, he is moving. Only then, does he allow his (thin) veneer of professionalism to collapse. He allows the flats of his palms to snake up your thighs, rubbing reassuring shapes into you, and you feel the familiar heat and press of of him through the luxe fabric of your suit trousers.

“Look at me, cariño,” he soothes, in a deep, fond tone, entirely different to those bitten off commands reserved for the rest of your entourage. “It’s just you and me now. Look at me, baby.”

You do. You look into his big brown eyes and you and he could be the only two people in the world, never mind the room. You sniff, and you fumble away a stray tear before settling your palms on top of his.

You slow your breathing and Santi flashes you a small, proud smile. “That’s it, honey. Nice and slow. Just like that.”

Then, he flinches, his head leaning to the side as though he could physically retreat from whatever angry voice is no doubt blaring into his ear. Then, he makes a point of taking the earpiece out altogether, letting it hang over the collar of his white shirt.

He tugs in a huge exhale too, letting go of the tension he held in his body through his concern for you, although his eyes slit flit around your face in residual concern.

“They’ll be mad you did that,” you warn, with a nod to his earpiece.

“Whatever. It’s not my job to get you to the red carpet on time. It’s my job to look after you.”

“Your job? Hmm? That all I am to you?”

He flashes you a lopsided smile as you tease him. “I’m a lucky man. My job happens to be a thing I love doing outside of work too.” You lift your palm to his face, the familiar texture of his stubble beneath your fingers. “Now, honey. No rush. But do you wanna tell me what’s going on?”

You look away from him then as you realise he won’t let you distract him enough to avoid the true issue at hand, but his hands are still languidly smoothing your thighs, and you know he won’t make you do anything you don’t want to before you’re ready. He might dole out some tough love, eventually, but not until he is sure that you can take it. He lets you fumble until you find the words. “It’s... even the thought of it, Santi. This is the biggest thing I’ve ever done. All those cameras. All those eyes on me, I...”

Santi shushes you, as he hears the resurgent panic creep into your voice, even as your fingertips idly trace over his handsome features, a self-soothing unconscious thing, as he continues to kneel before you.

But while you may be panicked, he’s smiling. Looking up at you earnestly. “You deserve all those eyes on you, hermoso.” You don’t mind at all that when his voice comes out now it’s both fond and a just a little dirty as his own, very attentive eyes sweep over you.

“I don’t know...” You nibble on your lip again.

“Baby. You deserve this night. You’ve worked so hard for this. You’re so talented. And holy shit. You look so fucking hot in this suit I can barely function.” You let out a small, tentative laugh, which Santi seems pleased by, his own eyes creasing at the corners in return. “Besides,” he continues, tone more earnest now, his thick brows raised as he hammers his point home. “I’ll be right there. Just a few steps behind you, okay, mi Principe?”

You take one more deep breath, expelling it slowly and steadily through the “o” of your mouth, and Santi can’t resist your pursed lips a moment longer. Yet, for all his comments about how hot you are, his kiss is not as devouring as you might expect. It is a soft, tender thing, barely skimming your lips, and yet even so it appears to inspire a reverent heat in him, his eyelashes fanned on his cheek as his eyes remain closed a moment longer. As he expels a gust of disbelieving air at how you make him feel from this alone.

“Or,” he proposes, his voice breathy. “We could sack this whole thing off? We could order chilli cheese fries to the room and I can suck you off until you can’t think straight?”

You kiss him again, this time giving him just a hint of tongue, even as you laugh musically into his open, increasingly eager mouth.

“Appealing as that sounds, my love, I probably shouldn’t miss this...” you nod your head towards the door “...lil thing.”

“Yeah. Probably.” Santi concedes with a fond, lopsided smile, his eyes flashing with adoration, until he reluctantly schools himself back to something resembling professionalism. He gives you a few moments to gather yourself, and for his... eagerness to subside, before asking “You ready?”.

You nod. “Ready as I’m gonna get.”

“There he is. That’s my man.” Santi gives your thighs one more squeeze before he stands, and you swear you hear his poor knees creak; and then, he is replacing his ear piece, his face becoming all business as he presses two fingers to his ear. “Kolpakov? We’re ready to move out. Everyone in position?”

He awaits the response before turning back to you, practically gasping as he sees you stood there in all your glory for the first time. His eyes sweep up and down the length of you. He shakes his head incredulously, switching his mic off for a moment more. “Fuck me. You look like a fucking dream.”

“Not so bad yourself,” you respond in a loving, flirtatious tone, dancing your fingertips across his chest as you sweep past him towards the doorway and he turns with you as if in your thrall.

As you prepare, taking another deep breath and gripping the handle, Santi reaches for your arm, delaying you for just another moment. “Santi,” you laugh. “We can do the chilli cheese fries later, I promise.”

But that’s not quite what he has in mind. He looks at you intensely, and he cups your face in his broad palm. “Don’t forget. You deserve those eyes on you. But if you get overwhelmed, know that my eyes are on you. Wherever you go, I’ll be right behind you.”

The sentiment and sincerity with which he says this makes your mouth fall open in shock. Makes your chest constrict with happiness rather than nerves - but you aren’t afforded the opportunity to respond. In the next moments, the door is flung open, and your entourage is flooding you, barking directions and whisking you down the staircase and out on to the red carpet.

You are pulled away from Santi, and you don’t get to be near him again, besides a quick, surreptitious whisper into the shell of your ear as he follows you out the door “we need to talk about your ass in these pants because holy shit” - but that is all you can steal.

True to his word though, wherever you go he is right behind you. He is there with a firm arm to form a protective wall should a photographer come too close, or a fan get too handsy over a barrier. He is standing, stern and formidable to your rear as you provide sound bites to the tv stations forming a line up to the venue (and, trying very hard not to ogle your ass in these pants, probably).

He’s right behind you, designed to fade into the background in every sense. For all his charisma, he’s good at it. Not drawing attention. Even his suit is designed to be non-descript.

But... that’s not where he should be, you realise.

And, when you are almost at the end of the carpet, you stop in your tracks. You hesitate, and you turn around, your gaze instantly finding him in the crowd. He looks concerned, alarmed, as though you may have gotten the jitters again and like you might be about to do a runner.

But that’s not it. That’s not it at all.

In fact, you are more calm and sure than you have been all evening, looking at his befuddled, deer in headlights expression as all the attention suddenly falls on him. He has some big talk and a tough exterior, but the centre of him is soft, and you love that about him.

And so, a cautious smile blooms on your face as you settle firmly on your plan of action, and you walk determinedly in the “wrong” direction, going against the stream of attendees and making a beeline for your love, as he, for once -your man of action- stands frozen in confusion.

Then, when you arrive at him you stop, placing both your hands flat on the lapels of his suit, smoothing them down.

“What are you-?” he begins to ask, but you cut him off.

“Santi, my love. This is ridiculous. I don’t want you behind me. I want you by my side. Where you should be. So, fuck it. Will you do me the honour of accompanying me to this premiere?”

He answers with a smile. With sparkling eyes. With his arms flung around your waist. With the press of his curved lips against yours, and a slip of his supple tongue. “Baby. I’ll always be by your side.” His hands slip a little lower. “Or - you know - sometimes right behind you.” He winks at you. God, you adore this idiot.

So, you wrap your arms around him, guffawing fondly into his neck before kissing him again, more deeply, not caring who’s watching. Your face splits with a beaming smile as you break from the embrace and link your arm into his, proceeding to walk up the carpet again: together this time.

“Fuck me though, honey,” Santi leans over to confide in you as he straightens up his tie, as if suddenly noticing the photographers for the first time now that they are noticing him. “You could have warned me you were going to french me on the red carpet, I would have put on a better suit.”

You laugh warmly as he continues to babble, and you reassure him that he looks perfect.

You know he’s doing his best to mask it, but he’s the nervous one now - you can tell. “Don’t worry, handsome,” you reassure. “Just you and me, remember?”

No-one else in the world.

“Jesus. How do you do this?” he asks, balking at all of the camera flashes going off in his face, his voice choked.

Luckily, Kolpakov - his second in command- figures out what’s happening and takes the cue to intervene, shifting the line back just a little to give the two of you some space. A good job too as you see beads of sweat forming on your love’s brow.

“How do I do this?” you ponder. “Well, I always have you to protect me, right?” You squeeze his arm tenderly. “And I’ll protect you now, my darling.”

This- having him by your side? You have no doubt that this feels right. It is where he has been all along, albeit only in the shadows. In private moments. But tonight, as he encouraged you into the spotlight, you realised how little you cared for hiding. You need him with you.

“Jesus,” Santi chuckles, looking around and trying to take everything in. “The boys are gonna have a fucking field day with this one. I didn’t even tell them we were dating.”

“What the hell, Garcia?!” you chide fondly, mouth open in a shocked “o”, before beginning to chatter and banter away with him as you easily fall into step together. Distracting him from his nerves like he always does for you.

With Santi by your side, you no longer care about all of the other eyes on you. All of the camera flashes. The crowds. Those watching at home.

You’re proud of your achievements. You’re proud of your relationship. And besides, the only eyes on you which you pay any heed to are his. Santiago’s gorgeous brown eyes, which, right now, shine with nothing but pride.

Yours shine right back.

You think he is the one who deserves all eyes on him, tonight.

#santiago pope garcia x reader #writer wednesday #Oscar Isaac #triple frontier #santiago pope garcia #male reader #m!reader #mlm

220 notes · View notes

mostlycompetentwriter · 3 years

Note

Hi hello! So pleased to hear your requests are open! Can I please request for a marriage au mafia style where the reader gets hurt or assaulted by the rival gang in front of him and due to being restraint he can't get to her and he cries and begs for her stop. Then thankfully Chan and the others come to the rescue and you want nothing more than to be in chnagbins arms. Maybe a lot of angst and fluff afterwards too. Can't wait to see what you come up with 💕

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Changbin

Warnings: Mention of violence and blood; cursing and language; lots of angst and some fluff at the end; mature content

Genre: Mafia AU; Established Relationship

Where are you?

It feels like a dream. The very strange sensation of that in-between state because you were incapable of distinguishing consciousness from something less than.

Am I alive?

You must be, aware of the sensation of cold, shivers running down your spine, raising little bumps across your arms...

“Princess!”

What? Did you hear that?

“Y/N!” the voice came again. More urgently this time.

You realized then, with the grounding agency of that sound, that your eyes were closed, but it was a struggle to open them, slowly coming back from whatever had sucked you down, wincing at the dull pain in your head.

“Y/N,” the voice sighed this time. Like it was relieved to see you cognizant. “Tell me you’re okay, love.”

Love?

It hit you at that moment, the sound of the voice. One you could recognize no matter the degree of darkness holding you under, and you managed to open your eyes enough to meet Changbin’s gaze from across the room.

“Changbin?” you questioned. Or, at least, you thought you said his name. You couldn’t be sure since the sounds around you made it seem like your head was underneath water, distorting everything, and the roof of your mouth was dry and tasteless.

“That’s right, love,” Changbin said, and you struggled to keep him in your line of vision, watching his form swim and dance in strange directions.

“I don’t feel good,” you admitted, hearing what might’ve been a sharp intake of breath.

“Where does it hurt?” Changbin asked, and you frowned at how difficult the question was since you weren’t sure how to answer it.

There was too much numbness, and you were far more concerned with restoring your senses, slowly feeling your ears open back up and the things surrounding you come into focus.

Meanwhile, Changbin was still talking. “I’ll kill them all,” he growled. “This was never supposed to happen.”

Them? you thought to yourself vacantly, gingerly turning around as much as your bindings would allow, realizing only after a brief relapse of confusion that your hands and legs were tied to the metal chair you sat on.

“Where are we?” you asked, finding your voice amidst everything else.

“I’m not sure,” Changbin whispered, and he suddenly sat upright in his chair, eyes narrowing and features taking on that practiced hardening that you associated with your husband at his most dangerous.

But a Changbin bound and tied by seemingly impossible to escape restraints didn’t exactly scream power to you. In fact, it seemed more like a power imbalance, and you were left reeling for answers when the sound of a distant door opening and then closing filled the space between you both.

“I see you’re awake now,” an unfamiliar figure announced, voice slightly accented. He walked with an arrogant swagger, matching the exaggerated steps he took and the smirk he wore on his grizzled features. “We’ve been waiting.”

“Don’t touch her!” Changbin snapped, jerking against his restraints as the veins in his neck visibly popped in response to his obvious anger and frustration.

“Who? The girl?” the man asked with a lazy gesturing towards you. “Then you’ll give us answers, no?”

“What do you want?” Changbin asked, and you noted how his fingers were clenched tightly against the arm rests attached to his chair.

“The new shipment of weapons,” the man said. “Your men took them from us the other night. Came in and shot my best sniper.”

Changbin sighed, clearly frustrated. “They were originally assigned to us.”

“But then we made a better deal!” the man growled. “It was my name on that contract, and you had no right to interfere.”

“Says who?” Changbin asked, fishing for more information.

“I can’t tell you that,” the man replied. “I’m only the messenger.”

“You act like it’s more than that.”

“Oh?” the man smirked. “Well, I am a big deal.”

Changbin glowered at the arrogance. “I don’t lead the organization.”

“I know, but you’re an important player,” the man continued. “And your name was everywhere when I started investigating.”

“The weapons were a necessary exchange,” Changbin argued.

“But they were ours!” the man declared passionately, and Changbin knew better than to try to argue with someone so overzealous.

“Fine,” Changbin huffed. “I’ll have my men restore the weapons.”

“Wonderful,” the man sighed, tucking his hands into his pocket. “There is one more thing, though.”

“One more?” Changbin snorted.

“I know of your importance, Mr. Seo,” the man said. “I assume that you’re someone in possession of good information.”

“Like what?”

“Like that little bar you opened downtown,” the man continued, taking another step closer.

You froze when he pulled a knife from his pocket, studying the way the light reflected off the harsh metal. “What about it?” Changbin grumbled, eyes focused on the obvious danger in the room.

“I’m curious about its sudden success,” he said, and you shivered when he started circling your chair. “Seems like something is missing.”

“Just good business,” Changbin said, but you could tell he was trying to get one step ahead of the guy - discerning the meaning of this unexpected conversation.

“Or, you figured out how to delegitimize the competition,” the man harshly exhaled, and you whimpered when you felt the cold blade of the knife tease the sensitive skin of your neck.

Changbin sat up just a little higher, biceps flexing against his restraints. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Obviously,” the man hissed, digging the blade just enough to draw a tiny pinprick of blood. “You’ve sent your men undercover to spy on my business! To spread rumors and lies and turn my clientele away!”

Changbin chuckled at the outrageous claim, but it was devoid of any humor. “You probably fucked your business over yourself.”

“Do you think I’m a fool?” the man growled, searing metal against flesh. “I know men like you, Mr. Seo, and I’m willing to bet that you’ve played a bigger part than what you’ve let on.”

“I have better things to do than fuck with some second rate booze club,” Changbin growled. “We’ve got clubs all over downtown. They’ve all been successful, and it has nothing to do with sending off the competition.”

Changbin smirked then, something harsh and mocking. “Maybe you’re just a really bad businessman.”

But it was the wrong thing to say, and you withheld a scream of terror when the man suddenly wrapped biting fingers into your hair. “You want to save your cocksleeve?” he growled, gripping even tighter to your aching scalp and wrenching your head back to expose your throat and the small laceration he had left there on the smooth skin. A puddle of red amidst the rest. “Tell me why you did it!”

“I can’t!” Changbin snarled in return. “My guys never stepped foot in your territory.”

“LIES!” the man roared, and you were teetering precariously in your chair, back legs lifted from the safety of the floor.

“If you hurt her,” Changbin said, and his tone was staggered and weak. “I will make sure you suffer a thousand times worse.”

The man laughed, incredulous as he looked around the room. “And what do you plan to do about it?”

Silent tears fell down your glistening cheeks as you felt the man’s warm breath against the side of your face. “Maybe violence isn’t enough for you. Maybe I need to get what I need by other means.”

Your stomach dropped at the guttural tone, trying to meet Changbin’s eyes from across the room. “You’ve been warned,” Changbin said. “The grave you’ve dug for yourself is deep enough.”

“Oh?” the man laughed. “Well, since you think you’re in such control here, let me remind of you of the reality of the situation...”

“Changbin!” you cried when you were abruptly lifted from your chair, knife cutting through the ropes binding you, sending you colliding back against the solid mass of an unfamiliar form, loose hands roaming across your torso.

“Stop!”

Changbin’s voice was just veering on the edge of desperate, recognizing that you were in no position for him to sound anything less than serious.

“Stop?” your captor repeated in a mocking tone, and you felt the blade of the knife return to your throat, slicing down harder and finally triggering the hair-raising scream that you had been suppressing. Trying to be brave for Changbin.

“You can’t do this!” Changbin cried, and you were amazed to see the faint rivulet of a tear stain - the mark of weakness that your husband tried so hard to suppress in this violent line of work.

If you thought about it, there were only a handful of times that you had ever seen Changbin cry.

“I’ll do anything,” Changbin whispered. “I’ll even take her place! Just don’t hurt her anymore.”

“Hmmm?” Your captor relinquished his threatening attack, and you could breath a little easier when he turned his attention back to Changbin.“What if I offer you a compromise? Tell me how you’ve managed your business affairs, and I won’t kill your little plaything.”

Changbin inhaled sharply, gaze full of a sinister rage you knew was reserved for his greatest enemies. “You’ll be screaming for a death of your own by the time I’m done with you.”

“You still don’t understand,” the man sighed, and you gasped when chapped lips brushed against your cheek. “Maybe I’ll fuck her first...”

“You won’t have the time.”

“Says who...”

He trailed off then. The last words you ever heard from your captor before an enormous explosion interrupted the tension, walls and floors shaking as dust and debris fell from the ceiling overhead.

You could feel the body behind you trembling as well, but you knew that it wasn’t from the explosion. It was from fear, and in a split second of panic, the man shoved you to the ground, and you yelped when your head collided hard against the concrete.

You attempted to pull yourself back up, but there was something numbing and weighty keeping you on the floor, darkness swimming threateningly in front of your eyes once again.

There were familiar sounds: the sharp click of a gun, the whizzing of bullets flying overhead, and the cacophony of screams and yells.

The pain was keeping you from focusing, aware of vague figures passing in and out of your periphery, running and moving in all sorts of directions. It was chaos at its finest, and you were incapable of comprehending any of it. Instead, you could only focus on two things: the pounding of your pulse against your eardrums and the intermingled buzzing of familiar tones.

There was a hand on your shoulder, but you were incapable of responding to their call, succumbing to an irrefutable and dreamless sleep.

The first thing you noticed when you were capable of understanding your surroundings, was the silky fabric of the bed sheets.

They were smooth to the touch and you flexed your fingers around them, humming in contentment when you silted open your eyes just enough to confirm that they belonged to you and Changbin. The ones you used on the King-sized bed in your shared room.

But therein lay the problem: you were alone in the bed, and the only voices you could hear certainly didn’t match the same tone of your husband.

You swallowed hard, flinching when the motion brought attention to the thick bandage around your neck, and upon touching the material, you were bombarded with a barrage of images reminding you of everything that had happened the previous night.

It was enough to leave you shaking, seeking some form of comfort as you roused your body just enough to turn around to the sound of those voices, recognizing Chan, your husband’s boss, and Seungmin, the residential healer.

“Chan?” you groaned, grimacing at the dryness in your mouth.

“Y/N,” he acknowledged you, rushing over to your bedside in an instant. “How are you feeling?”

“Okay,” you said, watching as he lifted a bottle of water to hand to you.

“Drink this.”

You nodded, taking it from him. “Where’s Changbin?”

The question was met with silence, and you frowned when Chan and Seungmin exchanged quick glances. “Well, if nothing hurts, then I have other appointments,” Seungmin said, hurriedly dismissing himself from the room.

“Coward,” Chan muttered, but he was nothing but smiles for you, coming to sit down at your bedside. “Changbin...he’s busy.”

The answer wasn’t satisfactory, and your heart started beating a little faster. “Where?”

“Downstairs,” he said, and you knew exactly what that meant.

“He brought him here?” you muttered, hating the idea of having someone like that under the same roof you called home.

“Changbin insisted,” Chan replied, and you realized that he disapproved as well, but it still didn’t help your tender sensibilities, and you were ready to implode from the inside because you needed Changbin’s comfort.

“I need him,” you said, fixing Chan with a stern look. “Can you ask him to come up here?”

“He won’t be convinced until he’s done,” Chan said, but his gaze was soft as he leaned in closer. “I can help, if you’d like.”

It was a nice gesture, and normally you might take him up on an offer of comfort, but Chan wasn’t going to heal the turmoil bubbling inside of you.

The emotions burst forth, and your eyes had already glossed over from tears shedding themselves like dead leaves falling from a tree in the middle of a windstorm. “I just want Changbin,” you sobbed, and Chan was barely perceivable through the mess of your tears.

You could tell Chan was upset by your dismissal, even as his fingers tried to brush away the wetness dotting your cheeks. “I’m sorry, Y/N,” he said, and it spoke to a history between the two of you that often when unsaid.

You had been given to Chan, your organization’s leader, as a peace offering from a rival mafia group. It was a cruel trade, and you resisted as much as you could, especially since, at first, you were meant to be his betrothed.

And you came into the Miroh Group with a determination to resist them to the very end.

Until Changbin stole your heart.

From there, you couldn’t believe that you had gotten so lucky, falling in love whole-heartedly, capable of forgiving Changbin’s worst sins.

Including his more sadistic tendencies.

“You can try to see him,” Chan said, seemingly satisfied after wiping away most of the evidence of your internal breakdown.

You nodded immediately, even though you understood that what you might find downstairs wouldn’t be anything comforting.

You felt a little unsteady on your feet, even with Chan helping you down the concrete steps descending into a place you tended to avoid.

The smell of alcohol and blood were both overwhelming, and you stumbled on the final step, rearing back at the sound of a truly gruesome gurgle that reminded you too much of drowning.

In the middle of the room you managed to make out Changbin, wearing dark pants and a white t-shirt, allowing you to see all the blood painting the texture in ugly patterns.

But then your attention wandered over to the poor soul strapped to the chair, barely recognizable because of the damage caused by your husband, the one who was gaping at you while holding a knife in one hand and scissors in the other.

"Y/N,” Changbin whispered. “Why aren’t you resting?”

You shook your head, looking past the gruesome, mangled damage to see the pained expression of your former captor.

Changbin had made good on his threat to tear the asshole apart, and your stomach rolled at the awful display of violence.

Done at the hands of the man who made the sweetest love to you in the dark recesses of your bedroom.

Still, you craved his presence, falling into his open arms as he held you close after tossing aside his tools. “Shhh,” he whispered to calm your tears.

“You weren’t there when I woke up,” you sniffled.

“I’m sorry, love,” Changbin said, soothing your cries with soft cooing.

You savored his closeness, tucking your chin over his shoulder and opening your eyes to look upon the decrepit appearance of your former captor. “What are you doing to him?” you asked, and you felt Changbin sigh as he pulled back from you.

“I know you don’t approve, love,” Changbin said, and he glanced down at his ruined t-shirt and jeans, drenched in blood.

Under most circumstances, you would agree, but you felt your hand jumping to your throat, wrapping around the bandage covering your wound.

Changbin frowned at the movement, likely remembering the events that led to your injuries. “Kill him,” you said, and both Changbin and Chan seemed taken aback by your response. It was completely out of character, coming from someone who often disapproved of the murderous part of their work.

“Y/N,” Chan whispered, and you could see that he wore wariness on top of his horrified expression.

“Come upstairs soon,” you said, squeezing Changbin’s hand with your own. “I need you.”

Your husband nodded, looking at you with something akin to awe as you left the downstairs basement with Chan hot on your heels and torturous screams assaulting your ears.

Chan only left your bedroom once Changbin arrived, showered and clean, wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt.

“Careful,” Chan whispered to him on the way out, and you shivered.

But there was nothing that could warm you up more than Changbin, and you even managed a smile when he climbed into the bed behind you, wrapping a strong arm around your waist to pull you closer. “Hi, princess,” he whispered, and you felt like bathing in the sensual tone of his voice.

“Changbin,” you sighed in return, turning around so that you could face him.

“It doesn’t hurt too much, does it love?” he asked, reaching out to tenderly stroke his fingers across your bandages.

“Not anymore,” you said. “Seungmin did a good job.”

“He better,” Changbin rumbled, and you tried not to roll your eyes at your husband.

“I was really upset earlier,” you said. “When I couldn’t find you.”

“That’s my fault, princess,” Changbin said. “I didn’t know you would wake-up so soon....and there were things I needed to take care of.”

You sighed, closing your eyes hard against a distant image of your mind conjuring the bloodied and ruined form of your captor. “Did you find out who he belonged to?”

“Yeah, a small organization under Park,” Changbin said. “He was more than willing to talk after I took one of his fingers.”

Your heart twisted at his nonchalant tone. “I guess you silenced him.”

Changbin hesitated, pausing to look at you with concern. “Are you mad at me?”

“Just...disappointed,” you said. “I couldn’t hold myself together.”

“It would’ve torn me apart,” Changbin replied. “If I let him go without making him suffer for touching my princess.”

You closed your eyes, feeling Changbin trail his fingers across your arm. “But you’re here now?”

“Of course,” Changbin agreed, leaning in to kiss you gently. “I’m yours, love. For as long as you need me to hold you.”

“Might be all night,” you said, moving up to kiss under his jaw. “I need you in a lot of ways.”

Changbin chuckled at your implications, leaving nothing to be imagined as you grazed one finger over the front of his sweatpants where his cock lay flaccid. He titled your chin at a better angle, a glaze of lust darkening his eyes. “When you feel better,” he purred. “I’ll take care of your little pussy.”

You shook at his seductive promise, curling even closer to him as Changbin’s thudding heart lulled you into a comfortable peace.

#changbin fanfic #changbin imagines #changbin scenarios #changbin angst #changbin x reader #changbin x you #changbin x y/n #changbin fluff #stray kids fanfic #skz fanfic #stray kids x reader #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #skz scenarios #mostlycompetent

308 notes · View notes