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#BUT U JUST KNOW SHE LISTENED TO EVERY WORD
chrissfawn · 3 days
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ꨄ MAKE IT UP . 𓂃 ㅤ۫ ㅤ⊹
— c.s. series | part 1 . .
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pairing :: chris sturniolo x fem!oc
summary :: in which isabella decantis has to share a dorm room with her high school enemy, chris sturniolo.
word count :: 1,390 k
warnings :: swearing, angst (??), lowercase intentioned, 3rd person, chris is a dick, drinking, throwing up, fluff if u squint, n thats it
a/n :: yall r crazy for getting tense to 800 notes 😭😭 i love u guys all dearly. also the story line is js smth i ended up doing on c.ai and i thought it was realy good so 😁 also credits to maxine for the name she said she wouldnt read this if i didnt give her credits
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COLD was what amber-eyed isabella decantis felt while walking down the long hallway. after waiting for weeks and even months, she had finally gotten accepted into her dream college. the brunette girl looked down at the small folded paper to know which dorm was hers. to her surprise, the hallway was empty on move in day. she knew how hard had been working and how much money she paid to get one of the dorms that have a private bathroom. she knew she deserved this.
‘ROOM 617’ was said on the small sign on the door. isabella put her boxes down after struggling to carry them for almost 10 minutes. she excitedly took out the key to unlock the door, but it was already open. bella raised her eyebrow slightly, a bit shocked that her dorm mate would already be here. she opened the door slowly while letting out a soft, “hello?”
her amber eyes met with blue eyes. “uhm.. what the fuck are you doing here?” chris mumbled, getting up from his bed. isabella’s jaw clenched as she looked back down at the folded paper. “this is room 617?” she spoke with anxiety laced into her tone. “are ya’ blind?” the brunette boy spoke coldly. “no because if i was, i wouldn’t already know that im gonna have to be with you.” she spat as she kicked her boxes filled with clothes and other things into the room.
bella picked up the few boxes and placed them on top of her bed. the room now completely silent, she took a box knife that she had in her purse and started to open the boxes up. “cant fucking believe im gonna have to be stuck with you for the entire year.” chris mumbled under his breath, thinking that isabella couldn’t hear him when in reality she did. “well we both wouldn’t be pissed off if you didn’t bully me through all of high school, wouldn’t we sturniolo?” isabella snapped.
“well thats what you deserve for being all slutty n shit when you fucked every guy in school decantis.” he argued back, not even looking up from his phone. bella paused from packing to turn to chris. her hands rested on her love handles. “excuse you! your the one who played every girl in bell borne! remember lizzy? yeah, you fucked around with her for a bit and then you cheated on her with her sister.” she retorted with frustration laced into her words. “but ohhh, no remember that one time when you cheated on her sister with her bestfriend?” bella continued, pissed off that chris was probably not even listening.
“oh please bella! you sent nudes to basically all of the guys during junior and senior year. dont act all innocent and act like you didn’t do anything.” chris finally snapped as he put his phone down. “jesus christ and you fucked how many guys in the bathroom?” he didn’t stop there. “don’t be coming after me sayin shit like im a player when you were a slut too.” he finally stopped. isabella rolled her eyes, turning her back to chris. “oh so now what? when i finally say the truth you stay quiet? is that what hurts you to know bella?” he taunted.
“that’s because its all a shitty humor chris! i didn’t fuck anybody in any bathroom, i didn’t send nu— well i sent nudes to my boyfriend.. i didnt send nudes to any other guy but him!” she defended herself while throwing her hands up with mercy. “for fucks sake chris you’re just like your ex girlfriend. she was such a fucking dick. you know you were nicer in eighth grade but when you started to date her during the summer you became a prick. guessing you also played her then?” bella added, tilting her head to the side slightly while crossing her arms. after a few seconds of awkwardness, isabella knew chris was finally silenced, atleast for now.
bella turned back to her things and continued to unpack everything. she carefully placed things on top of the shelfs next to her bed. her dainty crystals, her box of tarot cards, her little jewelry box, everything that she had loved. but it wasn’t too soon until the silence started to kill her. she then remembered that he had brought her vinyl player along with two or three records. the brunette girl carefully opened the book that held them, then taking them out. happily, isabella plugged in the vinyl player and putting on a mac demarco record on to play. chris groaned quietly as the music started to fill the room. “jesus what is this shit?” he asked while getting up from his bed to turn off the music.
“its music…” bella mumbled, quickly turning it back on. “well yeah it sounds depressing, who listens to that kinda stuff.” chris argued as he turned it back off. the girl pouted slightly. “people who listen to mac demarco?? if its bothering you so much then get out while i finish unpacking.” she shrugged. chris didn’t give her an audible reply, instead just simply putting his shoes on and leaving the room. isabella let out a small sigh of relief, thankful she had the room to herself now for a while.
. . . .
isabella was now in her nicely made bed comfortably. her wired earbuds connected to her phone which played music softly into her pierced ears. she hummed to herself quietly once she noticed the time. 1:03am. the brunette girl couldn’t actually help but feel a little bit worried about where he was. but of course, she quickly brushed it off and enjoyed how cozy she was currently. soon enough, a loud thud hit the door. isabella’s eyebrow raised slightly while lazily getting out of bed.
the brunette walked over to the door, taking out one earbud while opening it. her eyes met chris’ eyes. his hair stook out everywhere and some of it stuck to his forehead, his hand holding a bottle of something, his eyelids droopy, and his scent reeking of alcohol and his cheap cologne. “jesus what did you do?” bella asked while moving to the side to let chris in. “mmmhh” he rather giggled. he belly-flopped onto his bed and wiggled around on it for a while, bella assuming he was trying to get comfortable. “are you.. drunk?” she asked, crossing her arms. “don’t be ridicu-lush.. ‘m not that drunk.” he slurred while continuing to giggle like a baby.
isabella hesitated, but she grabbed the bottle that was in his grasp. “jesus! vodka chris?” she groaned in annoyance. he let out a small hiccup in reply that kinda made her laugh. isabella just watched him wriggle around in his bed before his body shot up. “what now?” she mumbled. “im gonna throw up.” chris groaned as he quickly ran to the bathroom that was connected to the dorm. the brunette girl ran after the boy as he kneeled down in-front of the toilet to throw up. isabella who had emetophobia, was also not doing well. her fingers lightly held chris’ front pieces of hair back with one hand patting his back gently, trying not to look at the throw up.
“there ya go..” she whispered quietly. after he was done doing his thing, isabella grabbed a plastic cup and filled it up with tap water. “here, drink some water.” the brunette said, then flushing the toilet. chris gladly took the cup of water and took little sips. “feel better?” she asked as she leaned against the sink counter, looking down at chris on the floor. “hm, i think ‘m still drunk.” he admitted, putting the cup down. isabella hummed quietly, nodding her head as she stuck out a hand to help chris up. “get some sleep.” she suggested while walking chris back into the room. “m’kay..” he babbled while quickly flopping back on his bed.
the amber-eyed girl turned off the bathroom lights then walked over to her bed. she had also decided to go to sleep. isabella turned off her lamp and put her phone to charge. her body slid underneath her sheets and blankets. she heard chris snore like a truck, “great.” she thought. honestly though, she didn’t mind it that much. after staring at the ceiling for a few minutes, she quickly fell asleep.
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a/n ;; STARTING MY FIRST SERIES 🙀🙀🙀 this might be a bit messy for the first part but i do hope u guys enjoyed it!!
taglist :: @espressomads @mattsluttywaist @sturniol0s @luverboychris
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nadvs · 1 day
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okay i’m on my period and ive been listening to fourth of july by sufjan stevens on REPEATTT😭 it’s inspired a fic idea that i think u would absolutely nail !!!!
sad ofc but rafe’s ex (moved out of the obx) gets news that he’s passed away. it’s centred around her going home, going thru the motions of how jarring it is that someone as big and powerful and stoic as rafe is just….gone. not there anymore. the lyrics of the song are great inspo ofc, but yeah just a huge ball of heartache and emotional despair!
if u wanted to lighten things up a pt2 could be like rafe faked his death vibes, angst and reunion and love and ahhhh!
၊၊||၊၊||၊၊ fourth of july / sufjan stevens
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
content warning death, drug abuse
When you saw the post on social media, you thought it was a sick joke.
But then you read the comments, full of canned condolences and useless prayers, and your refusal to accept the news crumbled with every typed word until you couldn’t possibly deny it any longer.
Someone commented asking how. Someone else replied overdose.
Sorrow and loss and shock and nausea swirled through you. You paced around your bedroom, chest heaving, glancing at the door as if someone was coming to pull you out of the nightmare.
Eventually, you found the strength to text Sarah. You still had her number even though you broke things off with Rafe three months ago.
She gave you the details for the funeral that Saturday.
It’s a hot, sunny afternoon when you make it to Kildare Island. It’s wrong that the world is still spinning, boasting beautiful weather on a gruesome day.
You think bitterly about how people are surely enjoying the sun today, all while the man you still love is being buried.
When Sarah sees you at the church, she gives you a mournful, forced smile. You hug her, your eyes swollen and red and aching, your throat burning as you tell her I’m sorry and are you okay?
You’re not sure if Rafe told her about why you broke up.
— and i’m sorry i left, but it was for the best though it never felt right
He hated that you wanted to move to another state for a job opportunity. He didn’t understand why you didn’t want to stay, why he couldn’t just take care of you.
You told him this was for the best and he’d find a girl who’d make him happy. He told you that was bullshit.
You doubt Sarah knows. He never spoke much to his sister unless he was fighting with her, so she likely has no idea why you ended an otherwise happy relationship.
There’s a large photo of him sitting on an easel at the front. You’re surprised they found a picture of him smiling.
It’s grainy and clearly zoomed in, likely from a group photo. He always had a great smile. He hardly showed it.
The lights hit the photographed blue of his eyes dully. Nothing like how he looked when he was alive. Even beneath the anger and bitterness Rafe carried around, he had a brightness in his eyes reserved solely for you.
You watched it fade the day you left him.
— make the most of your life, while it is rife, while it is light
When you see the coffin resting above the plot in the cemetery, you think you might be sick.
You knew Rafe liked coke. You feel naive now that you didn’t realize it was a problem. He just did it at parties when you were dating. At least, you thought he did.
Maybe you could have prevented this.
You remember the way his arm was wrapped around your waist at one of the last beach house parties you attended together. It was when you were still considering the job offer, knowing deep down you were going to take it.
He smelled like cologne and sweat and Rafe, his cheek against yours as he spoke over the loud music.
“You can’t move,” he said, chuckling and high out of his mind. “Look how much fun we’re having, baby.”
“I’d have more fun if we left,” you told him. He scoffed. But then he led you out of the party, down to the beach, hugging you from behind, kissing your neck as you sat in the sand.
“How’s this?” Rafe murmured. He earned laughs from you, his lips on your neck. “Fun?”
“Yeah,” you replied sincerely.
But you still left.
You can hardly listen to the sermon, but one part reverberates through you like it’s being screamed into your ears. We don’t face this life or death without promises.
There was a time when you and Rafe lived in a promise together. But now you just live, and he doesn’t.
Sarah finds you as you’re opening your car door to leave. She tells you it would feel wrong not to show you. They went through his phone. There are messages he sent to you that remain undelivered.
You blocked him after the break-up. You thought it was the right thing to do, but deep down, it felt more wrong than anything.
Your hand trembles as you hold the phone up to your face. It’s jarring, touching something that big, strong, abrasive, loud Rafe owned and used every day, and now he’s buried yards away from you, nothing but coldness and weakness and stillness. He owns nothing now.
Sharp spikes dig into your heart when you see that he sent you a string of texts the night he died.
i can’t stop thinking about you
i love you and i can make you love me again
come back
or i’ll come to you
please try one more time with me
“Thanks,” you tell Sarah, handing back the phone, when in reality, no part of you feels grateful upon seeing words he tried to say to you but couldn’t. You would have been better off not knowing.
You leave a part of yourself in that cemetery. It died with him. Because Rafe always said you were the only one who loved him and he left this earth thinking you didn’t anymore.
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wikitpowers · 3 months
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THEY’RE SUCH DORKS I LOVE THEM SO MUCH
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sentofight · 1 year
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WHAT IS HOLDING YOU BACK?
the inability to see the good in yourself, therefore relying on others to provide it for you
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your heart is so full for the people you love. it's sweet, but you've now forgotten how to care for yourself. you only seem to see great things in the people around you. they're wonderful, and you... you don't like what you're seeing in yourself, right? you need to be reminded that you're enough. that you're talented. that you're worthy. that's partly the reason why you reach out so much. you need to hear it from the lips of someone "better" than you. but afterwards, it makes you feel even more guilty and upset. you feel like your actions are self absorbed. you're aiming for perfection because you see it in others. you're failing to see the flaws in everyone else. i promise, you're no monster. i could say this again and again, but will you believe me when i say you need to find it out for yourself?
tagged by: @hiircgi [tysm!!!]
tagging: u see, u do
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utterlyazriel · 13 days
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let me keep you company
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a/n: a wee break from the doom & gloom of wtssf! it's unedited so i want no flack for that thank u <3 enjoy <3 wc: 5.1k whoops synopsis: You're studying in Velaris and a certain Shadowsinger catches your eyes in more than one way. It takes a while to realise the shadow keeping you company means more than you expect.
For the record, you had never met a Shadowsinger before.
You'd never even seen one. Sure, you’d read about them briefly in your studies and almost every Fae in Prythian had heard about them in whispers and rumours.
Rumours that increased more so when a Shadowsinger rose to become a hand for the Highlord, his own personal spy. Then became the spymaster of the entire Night Court for the next Highlord.
But beyond gossip and unfinished chapters within the scripts of your libraries, the knowledge of Shadowsingers is far limited. They’re rare. For all you know, Shadowsinger’s are a ghost— moving as a shadow, disappearing in and out of the darkness of the world.
You had never met a Shadowsinger before—so it makes sense that you hadn't an ounce of a clue what to expect.
Staring at him now, 6 feet something of pure muscle, you're a bit embarrassed at your own surprise.
Because he's probably— no definitely— the most beautiful Fae you've ever laid eyes on. His hair is tousled and dark, his glorious tan skin that's mostly hidden beneath the black of his fighter leathers, and his amber eyes that laid on you for only one long moment. Breathtaking is the only adequate word for him.
All that beauty and he's a Shadowsinger.
And it's not like you thought he wouldn't be like, well, any other Fae. But also... you kinda did? Mother, you should've known Freya was tricking you when she said they were all just shadow-y corporeal forms.
But she's also not entirely wrong there. There are dozens of wispy shadows that hover around him in constant motion, dipping and flying around his shoulders and if you look close enough, you can see how he seems to ripple at the edges. Shadows blur the edge of his very being.
You wonder if he can disappear into them all together, if that was one of the abilities granted with them. Does he control them? He must, you think, if the title is Shadowsinger.
But looking at him now, his beautiful face turned to face the Highlord you should definitely be listening to, they flit about almost absentmindedly, as though they have a mind of their own.
One curls up by his ear and you watch it, fascinated, more and more questions springing up in your mind— what do they feel like on skin? Do they make any noise? Is that what they're doing now? Talking to—
A sharp elbow jabs into your side, making you jump.
Your head whips to the side, an instinctive scowl almost overtaking your face before you plaster it over with a smile, realising your mistake. Your mentor, Sergei, clears his throat and smiles awkwardly ahead at Rhysand. You blink and take another moment to realise you've been asked a question.
"I'm— I'm sorry, could you repeat that?" You try not to sound as mousy as you feel but the question comes out as a squeak anyway. He is the Highlord of the Night Court after all. You suddenly feel very foolish for being so easily distracted.
Thankfully, Rhysand regards you with an easy smile. He's leaned back in his chair, relaxed, and his violet eyes dance with humour as he flicks his gaze over to where you had just been staring.
"That's alright. Azriel is a piece of eye candy, I can't blame you for staring," He all but purrs, a hint of mirth pulling at his lips as he casts another glance at his Spymaster. You're taken aback by the casualness of his words.
Rhysand continues. "I was only saying that for the duration of your stay, you'll be hosted in one of my homes, the House of Wind. You aren't afraid of heights, are you?"
A smidge of fear pinches at your stomach because, honestly, you aren't overly keen on the idea. But you know better than to turn down the generosity of a Highlord.
You take another glance at the wings of his Spymaster and General and pray that it's not too high up.
"Not... much." You answer honestly.
There's a chuckle from the side of the room and your head swings around at the noise. It's not the Shadowsinger, though he looks as though he's politely trying not to smile, his chin ducked. It's the General, just as beautiful as his brother but in that more rugged way.
He flexes his wings out a bit, showing off their mighty wingspan. "We'll rid you of that fear in no time."
You try for a smile but it might be closer to a grimace.
"Fantastic." You say, not managing to put all your enthusiasm into the word like you hoped.
Another sharp jab of Sergei's elbow in your side. The Shadowsinger, Azriel, huffs a quiet laugh, his amber eyes flashing up to steal another look at you. You try your best not to fluster.
It's going to be a long two months.
As Sergei's apprentice, you're expected to shadow him through his allowed time within Velaris.
Which means if he goes to the library, you go to the library.
There's just one problem; the library is down in the city and your temporary home is up in the mountain. The quickest way down is with wings.
Rhysand— or just Rhys as he had told you to call him— had relayed the information that you could ask either Cassian or Azriel to escort you if you didn't wish to take the stairs.
Cassian, the General, had been the one to fly you down and back the first couple of times you had asked and you weren't in any particular hurry to relive the experience.
Cassian was nice and he was more than friendly but seemingly incapable of understanding any fear of heights. You weren't sure if that was just the only way to fly— swooping and dropping fast enough to make you shriek— but it certainly seemed to be Cassian's way.
Which leaves you with the option of either asking the Shadowsinger or taking the stairs.
You get down about two hundred steps before you start to regret your decision. But, also, how in the Cauldron were you supposed to ask him to take you? (Never mind that you had asked Cassian quite easily, albeit very nervously.)
Oh, hi Shadowsinger who I can't stop staring at for both your abilities and your handsome face—care to sweep me into your arms and carry me places?
As if, you snort to yourself.
You take the thousand stairs all the way to the bottom and trot towards the enormous library, pretending your thighs aren't aching with overuse or that you're out of breath. Thankfully, the library itself isn't too far from the House of Wind, carved into the same side of the mountain.
As expected, Sergei is less than pleased with your tardiness.
"Sorry," The word rushes out of you in a wheeze, probably too loud for the library, as you scuttle in the entrance. A few priestesses turn their heads to look at you and you cringe, raising your hands in apology. "Sorry, I'm sorry,"
You focus back on your mentor and try to catch your breath, all while you explain. "I took the stairs and it took—" You huff out a breath. "—way longer than I thought."
Sergei's face softens a bit at your explanation, his face taking on a pitiful smile. "Still not enjoying the flying?"
"You are?" You ask in response. The thought of Sergei, your old-Fae mentor, swept up in Cassian's arms as he dips and dives makes you chuckle just a bit.
Sergei shakes his head as if to change the topic of conversation, deciding you've wasted enough time already. He turns, beginning to head further into the library and you follow behind him closely, eager to brush over your early morning fumble. The cavernous structure within the mountain yawns out ahead of you and you get all of two moments to wonder just how deep down it goes, when—
"You did not ask for a ride this morning."
Azriel steps up beside you, seemingly from nowhere, his steps falling in time with yours with ease. You jump, startled, and your footsteps falter for a moment. You're relieved to say that you only make one embarrassing noise in your surprise.
"I— oh, it's— I mean, I just..." You trail off, feeling flustered. "...like to walk."
You chance a glance up at him. He's wearing that same polite expression from yesterday, as though he's trying not to laugh and you get too caught up in the swirlings of his shadows to remember to be properly embarrassed. Both of you walk in tandem behind Sergei, slowly descending into the lower levels of the library.
"If you insist," He says, his voice low. It sends something warm down your spine and you pray he doesn't notice how your body temperature is definitely climbing.
His amber eyes pin you with another look, his lips twitching into a small smile. "However, if Cassian is giving you trouble, I would be happy to provide a smoother ride."
You flounder for a moment. You don't want to get anyone in trouble.
"I— he's not giving me trouble," You stammer.
Azriel smiles a little wider as if he can tell how polite you're trying to be. He slows to a meander and you realise only after you walk past him, it's because Sergei has stopped himself, turning down one of the many aisles.
You skid yourself to a halt and turn back, praying your flaming face isn't as obvious as it feels. You're not entirely sure if Azriel is accompanying you today but you're sure that Sergei would've mentioned it if he was.
You dip your head in a strange, awkward bow motion. Then point to the aisle Sergei disappeared into.
"I'll be... going this way."
Azriel's smile grows, like you've told a joke, and he ducks his head. He peers up at you through his dark lashes and you wonder if anyone's ever told him how damn beautiful he is. Probably. You're probably the last in a long line of people. Mother, his eyes though.
"If you don't wish to make the hike the other way," He murmurs.
He extends one of his hands and you watch the dozen shadows swarm around it, one of them separating from the pack to dive to the ground. It shoots forward and spins around your ankle, almost happily. "Just let the shadow know. I would be happy to assist."
When you look back up, he’s already gone without a sound. You try not to look so surprised— you’ve seen someone winnow before but you’re almost certain that the way Azriel moved about silently was something else altogether.
“Y/n!” Sergei’s voice echoes down the shelves, reminding you that you’re still late. You throw a quick glance around to check but it's fruitless; you can’t see the Shadowsinger anywhere.
You turn and bustle down the aisle quickly, not wanting to keep Sergei any longer. It takes only a second to notice the sole, black shadow that dances along behind you.
Guess you have company.
Okay, so, the shadows are definitely their own little guys.
Mainly because you can’t imagine how Azriel would be controlling them when he’s nowhere in sight.
And this one shadow is being awfully helpful.
The first time you drop your quill, knocking it to the ground as you lean over one of the many intricately carved desks, trying to reach another book, you don’t even notice it fall to the ground.
In fact, you have no idea how many times it’s picked up your fallen quill that you’ve undoubtedly knocked over countless times— only that it had given you the fright of your life to have it hover before your face, gripped only by the wispy shadow Azriel left with you.
“Holy shit!” You gasp, your loud voice echoing in the quietness of the library.
Sergei's head whips up, his eyes narrowing at the intruding sound with evident disapproval. You quickly snatch the quill out of mid-air and sink down in your seat. Gods, the echoes in here were doing you no favours.
“Sorry,” You whisper. Your eyes dart down to the shadow that retreated to your side, flickering around your ankle more wildly. “Er, thanks.”
It feels a bit silly to give thanks to something you’re not sure can hear you. But you figure if it can pick up your quill, you're better off using your manners.
Sergei gives you a somewhat bewildered look and you try to appease him with an awkward smile. It works enough for him to continue his work but not without one more lingering glance of worry in your direction. Great. You're talking to shadows and your old-man mentor thinks you're a bit nuts.
The shadow continues its helpful endeavours, following you when you head down different aisles at Sergei's request. It dances across the shelves, dissolving occasionally just to puff back up somewhere else, pulling your attention this way and that. It's playful. Friendly.
You deduce by the end of the day that you know even less about Shadowsinger's than you had thought. The abilities and personality of just one shadow are uncanny; like a silent friend keeping you company. You imagine that Azriel rarely gets lonely with as many as he has. Maybe you'll ask him.
When Sergei and you wind back up the staircases and he dismisses you for the evening, heading into the city for his own further business, you stand at the mouth of the library and ponder if you'll be brave enough to summon the Shadowsinger.
The shadow is still with you, circling your wrist absently. You peer down at it and think of all those stairs. Somewhat nervously, you raise your hand and try to be as casual as possible about talking to a shadow on your hand.
"Hi." You start, trying not to feel foolish. "Um, well, I guess I'm done for the day. Could— could you, if he's not busy that is, uh, let Azriel know? I don't mind waiting if he is."
The shadow zips off barely before you can finish your sentence and your head swings to watch it go, disappearing somewhere to your left.
You can't help but be a little amazed at its speed—it must be an incredible networking system to have a thousand little spies running around for you. No wonder almost all Shadowsingers tend to end up in the same line of work, you think to yourself, still peering in the direction of the shadow when—
"Y/n."
Even though he's said your name soft and quiet, Azriel still manages to take you by surprise. You jump and turn, all in one motion.
"Mother!" Your hand holds over your chest, relief curling in at the sides as your fright ebbs away. "That was fast."
"You called," Azriel responds, as if it's the easiest thing in the world. He gives you an almost shy smile.
It makes you fluster a bit and you gesture to the exit awkwardly and wordlessly, if only so you don't have to come up with a response to his intense and endearing answer.
Together, you wander out from the library and creep towards the edge of Velaris. It's a beautiful city and more than deserving of its title, especially when viewed from the House of Wind. You turn and cast your eyes up the mountainside, your familiar nervous fear pitching up from your stomach.
Then you look at the warrior beside you, tall enough that he's got what feels like more than a head's height on you, with his wings reaching above even his own head. His jaw is sharp and his eyes are already on you as your gaze trails up his face. Fuck. He's really pretty.
Now you're nervous for an entirely different reason.
"We can still take the stairs if you wish," He says, his hand sweeping back to the path you had followed along this morning. His shadows move with his hands, a black vortex that whirls around and around. "I'd be more than happy to keep you company."
Mother, he's not helping you in the slightest, being so perfectly nice to you. You regard the stairs and think back to how many hours it took before your thighs stopped aching—and that was on the way down.
"No, we can- we can try flying again." You say, nodding to yourself as if it'll help quell your fear. It takes another moment to realise that means you'll be bundled up in his strong arms, held against his broad chest and you feel a little shiver run through your body at the thought.
Azriel notices it too, his eyebrows knitting together in concern. "You're sure?" He checks.
You nod, not meeting his eyes, trying to keep your nerve. Flying is already something you're not keen on. Flying whilst being swept up in the arms of a Shadowsinger who you think is the most beautiful Fae you've ever seen? You send a silent prayer to the Mother that you don't do something embarrassing, like puking down his front.
"Let me know if you're uncomfortable at any time," He says softly and then he bends his knees slightly, one of his scarred hands resting on your lower back as the other scoops beneath your knees. He lifts you as though you weigh nothing.
It's impossible not to flush as you get nestled against his firm chest, your hands panicking for a moment as you try to think of a normal place to put them. Around his neck? On his chest? Either of them feels far too intimate for a man you've known only a week.
"You don't have to but I would suggest holding on," Azriel comments with a smile, his chest vibrating with the words. You nod, agreeing with him, but don't make a move to do so, only holding your hands out in front of you to indicate you're not sure where to put them.
The shadows adorning his shoulders move on their own, their friendly presence easing your nerves as they slither down to circle around your wrists. There's a gentle tug and you let them move your hands til they're wrapped around Azriel's neck, moving you much closer in the process.
Gods, your faces are close together. Another couple of inches and you could probably press your lips to his perfect ones—a thought that makes you fluster all over again. Was he getting prettier every time you saw him? For not the first time, you thank the Mother that it was Rhys with the daemaeti gift and not Azriel.
"Ready?" He checks, which is sweet. Cassian had just shot up into the sky the first time, without any warning.
You grip your arms around his neck a little tighter and then nod. "Ready," You say, quieter than intended.
You catch just a moment of Azriel's demure smile, your heart swooping at the sight, before you're both launched into the sky with one flap of his wings.
The noise that escapes you is one you're less than proud of, a squawky sound noise of panic that you bury into Azriel's neck. You expect him to laugh like Cassian had, not meanly but playfully, but instead Azriel's arms just tighten around you. As if he was assuring you that he would not let you fall.
By the time you're up at the House of Wind, Azriel making a far more graceful descent than his brother, you're less freaked out and more ready to point some accusatory fingers in the face of the Night Court's General.
That bastard had been fucking with you! The flight with Azriel proved as much, considering how much calmer and smoother it had been. You couldn't help but say as much as you were placed down from Azriel's hold, glad to be back on solid ground.
"I have some words for Cassian, Mother above," You ramble, straightening out your rumpled clothes from the flight. "Did he think I was kidding when I said I was afraid?"
Azriel smiles at your fieriness, his shadows calmer than they were in flight, moving about lazily. His eyes take a fleeting glance at the house behind you before focusing intently back on you.
"Cassian can have a strange sense of humour at times. He means well." He says. Then he grins. "I should like to see you tell him off— not enough people do."
You hmph. "Maybe I will."
You suddenly realise the closeness between you and Azriel, close enough to feel the warmth of his body. His scent of cedar and mist swirls around you, tantalizing and alluring in a way you've never known before. You take a step back to contain yourself.
"I—uh, well, thank you very much." You say, as sweet as you can. "For the ride."
Your eyes catch on one of his dozen shadows and you smile, observing them for a moment. "And the shadow. It was excellent company."
Azriel brightens, an expression of surprise crossing his face before he schools it away. He smiles, brazen and breathtaking. When he speaks, he sounds a little disbelieving. "You like them?"
You nod quickly, noticing how one of his shadows has snuck off again and circulates your ankle speedily. You laugh at the ticklish feeling of it against your skin.
"They're incredible." You breathe, meaning every word. "I imagine you must've ge—"
"Apologies, y/n." A smooth voice cuts in, Rhys stepping up somewhere behind you and stealing both of your attention. He dressed in more casual clothes than you last saw, but not quite Azriel's fighting leathers. "Azriel here is needed for some brief business. Do you mind if I borrow him?"
The way he poses the question, as if Azriel is yours, does something wonky to your heart. You flounder for a moment, stepping back and waving your hand in the direction of the Shadowsinger.
"Of- of course, by all means." You trip over the words and hope you don't sound too eager to escape his company. That couldn't be more untrue.
You turn back to Azriel and fix him with a smile, hoping it's not as nervous as you feel. "I'll... see you around?"
Azriel steals a glance to the side where Rhys awaits before he nods with another reserved smile. Hold on, is that pink on his cheeks?
"Let me know if you need any more help getting to and from the library. I'd be happy to assist."
And then with a quick nod to you, he walks off to join Rhys, his wings tucked in tight, careful to not nudge you. You watch them go, unable to stop yourself from letting your eyes wander down. Damn, all that training did wonders. What was that saying? Hate to watch 'em go, love to watch them leave.
Ahead, Rhys abruptly laughs and peers back over his shoulder, letting you exactly how well you had shielded those thoughts. You flush and scurry into the house as if it'll save you from the embarrassment of what's just happened. You only hope he won't pass the message on to Azriel.
It continues like that for the rest of the week.
Azriel carries you down the height of the mountain and leaves you with a promise that if you need anything, you can tell the shadow and he'll come to find you.
The shadow keeps its usual playful company. Beyond retrieving your dropped quills, it helpfully turns the pages of books for you. When you're focused on what you're writing, it nudges back any loose strands of hair. Once it even brings you a flower from Mother knows where. One single Lily of the Valley, left resting on your desk.
It makes you wonder; are all Shadowsinger's shadows like this? You can't help but imagine these niceties are shaped by Azriel's own soft nature.
Today, whilst you study in the vast caverns of the library, you get an unexpected visitor.
As you take your time scanning through the books in one of the vast aisles, you realise the Fae coming down from the other end of the aisle is none other than the Highlady herself.
"Feyre!" You greet warmly. The two of you had met before when she had taken duties in your home court and if it weren't too bold, you'd say you consider yourself good friends. Feyre smiles, glowing like moonlight, as she realises who it is.
"Y/n," She says your name sweetly and her hug is just as such. She pulls away, ready to inquire about your studies when she spots the trailing shadow behind you.
"Making friends, I see," She comments. Her eyebrows raise almost teasingly as if she's made a certain insinuation. You take a moment to notice what she's referencing.
"It's nice," You say, a defensive lilt to your tone. You hold out your hand and the shadow jumps at the opportunity to skitter around it playfully. "It's like a little friend."
Feyre smiles at your words but chuckles a little. "Except Azriel is anything but little."
You pause at her words, glancing down at the shadow and back up at Feyre. "What do you mean? I thought— they're not- I mean, aren't they...?”
You trail off, unsure of how to word the question you're trying to ask. Feyre smiles, her gray eyes glittering with mirth as she realises what you're figuring out.
"They're all his. Azriel's. He controls them." She tilts her head a bit, watching the shadow that drifts about your hand and wrist. "True, they roam a bit on their own but... Not like this."
"Oh," You murmur, thinking back to that first day in the library.
The playful shadow that lead you back and forth, picking up your quill and turning your pages. It was him, all along.
Something immeasurably warm starts to glow in your chest, a thread that loops through your heart and sends the valves into overdrive. Its warmth grows, something molten hot beginning to bleed in your chest— and it feels wonderful. It feels right.
"Oh," You gasp as you figure it out.
Feyre grins, watching you piece together what the rest of the inner circle has clued together from the very first day. She stands to the side and gestures to the entrance of the library with a tilt of her head.
"Go on then," She urges you.
For a moment, you think back to Sergei who sent you hunting for a certain manuscript Cauldron knows how long ago but the thought is washed away in an instant. You can feel it now, the strong tug in your chest. The connection that binds you to another.
You stride past Feyre, giving a quick thanks! and all but run up the spiral staircases, heading for the entrance. The shadow pings along with you and as you near the top, you look down at it and say through huffed breaths, "You better go get him."
He's waiting by the time you get there.
Against the setting sun, for a moment there's only the silhouette of him— a warrior with tall wings, the edges of him rippling like a mirage. He might just be one; an oasis in your life, the answer that you've been searching for for centuries. You can't believe you didn't notice.
Your footsteps echo on the marble as you march right up to him and Azriel watches you closely the whole time, his amber eyes soft but his expression hinting at his nervousness. Gods, he's wonderful. You can't believe he gets to be yours and you get to be his.
"How long have you known?" You ask because it's the first thing on your mind. You're nearly panting from the exhilaration of your sudden exercise, from the dawning future that's blooming right in front of you. He's your mate. Gods, how could you have missed it?
Azriel smiles, that same tentative one that's been driving you crazy all week. His wings give a little shake behind him, a giveaway of his nerves.
"I... suspected from the beginning." He chooses his words carefully, wary of how you might respond.
You can't help your little gasp, feeling even more of a fool. You curse, ducking your head before you glare back up at him, no real heat in your gaze. You have the urge to give him a little shove, just for keeping you in the dark.
"And you didn't think to tell me?"
One of his shadows spins up unexpectedly, dancing across your shoulders and tickling your cheeks gently. You startle in surprise but something sweeter curls up in your chest at the tenderness of its touch.
"Believe me," Azriel says with a quiet chuckle, his amber eyes darting over your face intensely. "I've been trying."
You melt. Eyes locked with his, you move slowly, letting your arms drift up to drape around his neck like they've done every morning and evening since he began flying you around. You realise acutely that Cassian's behaviour, his shoddy flying, had likely been on purpose. You laugh a little, eyes creasing shut in pure euphoria.
Azriel's hands find your waist and you can feel the slight tremble in them.
"In my defense," You murmur, pushing up on your toes. You're close, so close, your lips hovering just an inch from a kiss—his shadows go wild around you both. It makes you grin. "I had never met a Shadowsinger before."
"Yeah?" Azriel breathes shakily. "Disappointed?"
He says it like a joke but you can hear the note of sincerity in his tone. His hidden worry that he isn't all you dreamed of. It's nearly laughable how wrong he is.
This close you can see his long lashes and every shade of brown in his eyes. You wonder if you'll ever get used to how beautiful he is. Part of you hopes you never do.
"Not in the slightest," You say, nearly a whisper.
Then his lips are on yours, pillowy soft skin against yours, and it feels like coming home. He kisses you, kisses you, kisses you til you're breathless and the glow in your chest could rival the sun in its warmth.
He kisses you and every atom in your body hums and fizzes and comes to life — and all you can do is hold him tight and kiss him back, just as fiercely.
Breaking the kiss to catch your breath, you pant and grin brazenly at Azriel, at your mate, happier than you've ever been. Faintly, you realise that you won't be heading home when the two months of your study are up after all.
Not when you have a man who looks at you so reverently, who kisses you like there's oxygen hidden in the plush of your lips, who holds you like there's nothing more precious in the world.
Not when you know that home is right here, in front of you.
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targaryenluvs · 5 months
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— TRAPPED (WORDS NOT SAID)
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pairing: dark!coriolanus snow x fem!reader
warnings: cold!corio, murder, nc kissing, possessiveness, very controlling thoughts and actions, arranged marriage, cheating, dark-ish themes since he’s literally insane HAVE U SEEN THE BOOKS? not proof read
summary: after the 10th hunger games, coriolanus set his sights on a girl from his younger years to be his wife. disgusted by his actions and scared by the rumours your family agreed. as you realise he wasn’t the same boy from before, snow finds himself intrigued, especially when you seem to be visiting a friends house too often.
word count: 1.9k words
a/n: i don’t usually write toxic shit but like that’s the definition of snow and his cute lil intrusive thoughts so here u go 😘 this man is a bad man especially after lucy. so i find it so funny when he’s super sweet in some fics but he’s super like ooh she needs protection, oh she’s fragile you get me???
PLEASE READ WARNINGS
there was no point in crying.
you knew that.
but at the prospect of marrying a man whom you barely even knew scared the hell out of you, and the thought of not being with your albeit secret boyfriend, not getting to marry him, start a life with him? it was unbearable.
your dress was crisp white, like snow. of course.
the memories of that day were jumbled in your head, you remember being stuffed into a dress, your hair and face being pulled every which way and holding coriolanus’s hands as you listened to his vows, void of emotion in the eyes but with a slight smile on his face. you couldn’t even recall what happened afterwards. and you didn’t want to. coriolanus hadn’t even let you properly bid your family farewell before he’d sweeped you away to your new home, courtesy of your parents and the plinths.
and even if your home was cold and distant you tried your best to be nice and easy with snow. you’d wear what he wanted, did what he wanted and everything else. you could tell he found comfort in control, knowing what was happening, being able to tell people what to do. even if you hated to admit it, it suited him.
in a rare moment, his mask would slip. the mask that kept his true thoughts and emotions neatly stored away, it would fall. and you revelled in them, a genuine smile, across his face. but as soon as it slipped, his walls were back up and he was straightening his red coat and out the door.
over the next months you’d learnt to keep yourself in check, there was no point in trying to bond with coriolanus, he knew his boundaries in your relationship? marriage? whatever it was, it was just on paper. you were mere passing acquaintances at best. you’d have breakfast together, he’d leave the house, you’d occupy yourself with the house, the library, entertainment, shopping, he’d come home, dinner and then off to your rooms.
but over a few weeks ago you’d met someone new.
andrenis was insanely gorgeous, his eyes shone in the sun and his brown hair reminded you of chocolate. he was breathtaking and he loved you. it’d been so long since you felt love, pure and devoted love to someone. the vacant halls of coriolanus’s and yours home were at the back of your mind in his presence.
at first youd started of friends of course and as you continued you felt, alive. every time he looked at you, talked to you everything faded to the back of your mind. but what you didn’t know was that snow had taken note. he’d noticed you skipping out on breakfast at times, your maids always claiming that you’d been reading late, working late and so on.
working late? you were married to him, what work could you possible have? why were you sleeping so late? could you not do your reading during the day? what was taking your attention, who?
even if you didn’t talk much, let alone see eachother you were a constant in his life now. something that gave him comfort of sorts. small talk with you in the morning and night, seeing you in the halls, your laugh echoing through the halls as you talked with staff, your scent lingering in the library and the drops of blood on his roses, since you were the only person whom he allowed to tend to them.
for him, you were security.
he knew you wouldn’t leave since you had no reason to. there was no love holding you to this relationship, you had a comfortable life, your friends and family in your reach and the luxury that you lived in. you were free, in your eyes. but in reality the second your own pen touched that paper and you signed the certificate your life was taken from you. even if you didn’t know it, coriolanus had been monitoring you from afar.
keeping track of what you did, where you went, what you spent. it was all to make sure you made it home of course. nothing less, nothing more.
so imagine his surprise when he heard reports of you sneaking out of the house and returning in the early hours of the morning.
for some reason he couldn’t help the pang of jealousy in his heart. why on earth would you be sneaking out? was this home not enough? the roof over your head and the food in your stomach? the bed you sleep in and the man you call your husband. your loyalty should be unwavering yet here he was, watching you creep out of the house through the servants quarters.
his jaw clenched and his fists curled as you laid your hands against his chest, foreheads against the others. “i’ve missed you my love.” the man’s voice echoed through his head.
words he’d never said to you.
“i know, but we are together and that is all that matters. i love you andrenis.”
words you’d never said to him.
“i’m to visit district 12, my father wishes for me to visit my brother. you know what he did, his punishment was to be a peacekeeper. but his time is up and mother misses him terribly. i do not know how long i will be y/n, but i will bring you back whatever you wish.”
“and what exactly will you get from district 12 that my dear wife will will not be able to get here?” it wasn’t a question, even if it was said as one. there was not a single thing that he wouldn’t give his wife. to keep up your appearances of course, he couldn’t have you going without something you wanted.
your heart was racing and your hands sweaty as you instantly pulled away from andrenis. snows eyes bore into his, andrenis breathed deeply before speaking, “coriolanus. you look good, rising above the ranks, marrying up are we?”
andrenis layworth. not only did coriolanus despise him but he knew how he truly acted. he should’ve stayed away from things that weren’t his, never were and never would be.
“andrenis!” you scolded him, it was already embarrassing in your eyes to be caught with him by your husband but you wouldn’t let him mock coriolanus.
your husband reached his hand out towards you, and you accepted as he spoke up. “i hope your travels are safe, andrenis.” the two of you walked away, him placing you into the car before shutting the door. he tapped on the back as you drove back home, without him to your surprise.
andrenis was taken aback. in all the time he’d been with you, you’d failed to mention your husband was him. and as much as andrenis would hate to say it, snow did intimidate him. nowadays at least. he rarely showed emotion, he was always proper and dressed appropriately, but all that didn’t matter when snow had his mind. his wit, intelligence and cunning was far more impressive than most.
he’d always kept himself in check.
but as coriolanus snow walked towards him with certainty he backed himself all the way into the dark alley as he was grabbed by his collar and slammed into the wall. “my wife. she is my wife, no one else’s. just because your pockets may be deeper than mine does not mean that i won’t hesitate to get you out of my way. you could never be worthy of her and if you so much as look at her, i will make sure you will never see the light of day. perhaps you’ll have a fall, or a crash with your traitor brother?”
the mask had fallen and the only thing left behind it was pure rage.
“or maybe we’ll hang? what would that be, three deaths on your hands?” andrenis smirked as coriolanus’s face dropped. he grabbed andrenis and shoved him infront, pushing him to walk. “you’re going to district 12 and you will never come out.” andrenis laughed loudly, “such terror you impose, poor coriolanus, clawing his way to the top. marrying a woman by force-”
“on second thought.”
a single gun shot rung through the air.
“district 12 isn’t low enough for you.” snow spoke as andrenis tried to crawl away from him. “no place on earth deserves the dishonour of having you waste their resources. the air you breathe is a privilege, that should not be taken by you.” coriolanus pulled him up by his hair, “the second you decided to be with her, was the day that you died.”
andrenis’s eyes were closing, fear swimming around. but corio couldn’t bring himself to care. his mind was clouded, for once he wasn’t thinking clearly. as he walked back into the house he saw you, sat with your head in your hands, jumping up at the sound of him entering. “corio.”
his heart was beating erratically at the sound of your voice, so soft and welcoming. why hadn’t he noticed your sweetness before?
“i’m so sorry, i- i was weak. we rarely speak to eachother, let alone allow ourselves to love. with andrenis, he reminded me of it, reminded me how it felt to love and to be loved. i won’t see him again, i promise.”
so submissive, rather than standing your ground. getting angry at him for forcing you into the marriage, for not talking to you, you were apologising. whilst you may have been disloyal he saw it only as a weakness. a bad habit to which he could help, he could fix. and he knew you’d keep your promise, not because you’d try your hardest but because andrenis was a cold stiff body in the bottom of a construction site. a mugging victim? an accident? it didn’t matter how his passing was seen as, he was gone and he’d never return.
he’d made sure of it.
as he walked towards you the scene from before replayed in his head as you walked backwards with every step you took, and in your eyes he saw what he craved to enforce, terror. and you were so small to him, something fragile, in need of control and order.
“don’t worry, i’ll keep you safe, i’m all you need.” corio spoke as his face got closer. the rise and fall of your chest was rapid, your eyes were wide as you realised what he was trying to do. you quickly turned your head but he quickly forced you to look at him, fingers digging into your face, “i give you everything, i will always give you everything. you deserve nothing but the best and i am the only one who can give it to you, you need me. do you understand?” he questioned as you began to cry, you’d never seen him so unhinged. his hair was slightly out of place, a strand infront of his eye.
(zayn malik vibes)
his coat was off, most likely hung on the door way and his sleeves were rolled, his usually pristine white shirt was crinkled, dirty. what had he been doing after you left? you’d gotten your answer as your teary eyes blinked away the tears, focused on his bare arms,
blood.
“corio, please. what did you do?” you cried as his hand made its way to your neck as he pressed your forehead to his, your stomach swirling and head spinning as a sense of deja vu crossed you, andrenis.
“what i had to, i will always do what i have to. nothing is ever handed to me.”
“you didn’t-”
he laughed, “snow lands on top, in life and on you.”
(going to puke why did i write that it’s so cringe)
the kiss was nothing like you ever had. it wasn’t sweet, passionate, rather hungry, as if he was chasing you, afraid you’d run. as if you could, he’d let one girl get away and with how he looked at you in this moment?
you were trapped.
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signedkoko · 2 months
Note
HEHEHHEE OPEN REQUESTS???
Hello koko! I was summoned by your open requests, and I just had an idea, how about headcanons/one shot for Alastor and Vox (separately) with a reader who has powers a bit like Toge Inumaki in JJK?( I saw that you were watching JJK so I assume you know how his powers works) like what do they think about it? how do they react when reader uses her powers? How they communicate with her?
THANKS FOR READING MY REQUEST DEAR KOKO! HAVE A GOOD DAY/NIGHT
-🐚
Alastor | Vox X Reader [Romantic]
In which your speech causes action, so you can't speak unless you wish to control others. Reader is female.
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When you first came to the hotel, Alastor was not impressed
You were certainly a gorgeous sight, but it was ruined by the device in your hands that you had your nose buried in, screen lighting ruining your face
It took him quite a while when he heard strings of words emanating from the device to realize you were speaking through it, your fingers pressing on keys faster than he could follow
You introduced yourself to everyone that day, as a new hire for the hotel, and how you couldn't speak but hoped it wouldn't get in the way
He was certainly irked by the device in your hands, but it was funny to see someone so weak that they had to rely on a flimsy device made by an even flimsier overlord
Truly a shame
You learn the hard way not to get too close to him while using your device, or else it starts to act up and get damaged
Alastor still spoke to you; of course he did! Because he was amused knowing you couldn't retort
But eventually, without noticing, he would talk more and more, filling every aspect of the silence between you
You were the best listener, both since you had no choice and because you didn't give any shitty advice
The only thing that weirded him out was the weird clicking he started to hear around you
Something about it was so familiar
J-E-R-K-J-E-R-K-J-E-R
When he looked down at your hand and saw a clicker in your hand, he realized what you were doing
Of course he knew morse code by heart! He studied all sorts of things, but he wasn't sure why you'd do things that way when you had a much easier device
Unless you did it just for him?
R-K-J-E-R-K-J
" And who are we calling names, my voiceless companion? "
Y-O-U
Still, it's very touching to see you go from using your phone to putting it away when you come to him to talk
And not much changes since you can't get out too many words with your morse method
One evening, while on a walk together, Alastor was reciting to you how he'd come to work for Charlie and how she sang on the news for so many to see! When a group of assassins surrounded the two of you, angel steel weapons were on full display
Before Alastor handled them—which, let's be fair, would be no issue to him—you pulled quicker on the draw
" COMATOSE. "
You yelled it with your hands clamped over Alastors ears, and the instant the word came out, they all dropped, beyond unconcious
Alastor laughs, because wow, that was quite the display!
But he's already dragging you over them to continue talking, now teasing you for treating him like a helpless damsel
He was certainly glad that he hadn't made an enemy of you when he first saw you, because you may stand a chance against him with an ability like that
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Most sinners had some kind of ability that grew with their power, often souls under contract or training enhancing them
Vox himself had plenty of tricks under his sleeves, and he'd seen the most pathetic of abilities to those worth cowering before
But he'd never heard of something like yours
Overlords loved showing off their resources, which could include people who became very useful in battle
You were a 'friend' of Zestial, though, while most jumped at the opportunity to introduce themselves to other overlords, you only waved
Of course you piqued his interest, because when he ran his servers over you, he found little to nothing beyond pictures
After several days of stalking video feeds, he caught you and Zestial together when—oh fuck! You sign!
While he could have just waited for the next opportunity, Vox was far too invested in your story and opted to pay Zestial a visit, if it meant he could see you
From what he could tell, you were using ASL, so once he bumped into you he began signing his typical introduction
Something about his heart sparked when he saw you smile, the way those curious eyes sparkled
He was immediately embarrassed when you revealed he didn't have to sign because you could hear
But he was all healed when you signed that you were very glad to have met someone else you could talk with
Vox is used to the overstimulation of noises from news, music, footage, all of it always beaming into his head so much that the silence around you is eerie and takes him awhile to get used to
Zestial certainly has an ace; one Vox is jealous of
Since you got along so well, you and Vox schedule meet-ups so you can interact, seeing as he and Zestial are almost exact opposites
The first time he witnesses your powers is when Alastor shows up at one of your meetings, and he was certainly trying to embarrass Vox in front of you
But Vox was your friend, and you had no tolerance for Alastors threats
" Silence. "
From your lips poured a thick fog, which whisped its way over Alastor's mouth, forming a seal that prevented him from speaking
The radio demon wasn't pleased, but he wasn't about to act up a scene right now, so he turned and left
Vox immediately fanboys because, oh my FUCKING GOD, you showed him!!!
Wait, you can talk? You sound like that?
YOUR POWERS DID THAT???
He is about to waste your evening asking all kinds of things, you probably can't sign as fast as he can ask, too
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Author's Note - Conch anon gets only the BEST of the BEST!!! I did like writing these anyways though, because i adore Inumaki...thank you for requesting!
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hwaflms · 17 days
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round & round! ★ [ l.dh ]
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{💭} hyuck : i suggested playing spin the bottle because i wanted to kiss you, but now everyone’s kissing you except me :/
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[☆] pairing. haechan x reader, slight jaemin x reader ft. 00’ line, chaewon of lesserafim and sieun of stayc
[☆] genre. smut + fluff | stoner!nct, pwp bc it’s me
[☆] wc. 6.1k
[☆] warnings. explicit content (mdni), weed/marijuana use, lots of making out, slight choking, dirty talk, fingering, sexual stuff in a semi-public place, use of the word ‘slut’, very slight degradation, not very proofread, pretty tame tbh
[☆] notes. my first time writing again in like??? two years???? istg i didn’t mean to abandon this acc 😞 pls be nice i haven’t written in a while and this is not my most favourite work but i’m warming up for more stuff in da future i just wanted to post a lil self-indulgent smth abt hyuck bc bf☝️ idk how active i’ll be because of uni and other things but i missed u guys!!! any feedback is appreciated enjoy :p
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even through the clouds of smoke engulfing the little living room of jeno and jaemin’s shared flat, your hooded eyes still met.
today was an important day amongst your friend group; it was chaewon’s first time smoking up with everyone. your friends weren’t really the type to pressure anyone into doing anything they weren’t sure about, but considering the astounding majority who enjoyed smoking some variation of weed, group sessions were a frequent occurrence. you either joined in or didn’t, chaewon being the latter until she decided of her own accord that she was going to try it with the people she trusted.
you sesh with jeno most often, seeing as he was the one who introduced you to weed and taught you everything you know about it. after weeks of listening to you complain about sleepless nights, jeno suggested you try smoking a joint before you go to bed, especially since it was starting to affect your attendance. (“i can’t keep attending these zoology classes without you, y/n. every time something stupid happens, i laugh and make a joke out loud because i forget you aren’t there, and now i’m pretty sure people think i’m either insane or just really fucking lonely”.)
now, smoking up has been a pretty regular occurrence, especially since jeno introduced you to a bunch of his friends and vice versa, all of you making up one big, happy group of stoners. chaewon and sieun were your friends who got along with everyone else just fine, and though they didn’t hang out with the others as much as you did, they were still welcome whenever.
presently, you are leaning back against the couch, all the way on the end, because jaemin is sprawled out alongside you, opting to rest his legs on your lap. haechan makes a joke that you don’t understand, but you laugh anyway along with everyone else, except renjun who covers up his laugh with cough.
“you can never let me have it, huh?”, hyuck scoffs, narrowing his eyes at renjun who’s mouth forms a thin line. “i know for a fact you find me funny.”
you hear that he makes a remark back at haechan but what he says doesn’t register in your head, everything sounding far away. remembering the special occasion, you turn to face chaewon and sieun, who are giggling away on the floor about something between the two of them. you don’t know what they said but you smile anyway. she clearly seemed like she was having a good trip, and so was everyone else.
swallowing nothing, you realise how dry your throat feels, and with that realisation came this undeniable desire for some form of liquid. “jen,”, you tilt your head back and call out to the boy who was already rolling another joint on the table behind you. “did you end up buying more coke?”
“check the fridge”, he mumbles without looking at you, tongue poking his cheek out of concentration as he focuses on what he was doing. with a groan, you heave jaemin’s legs off your lap, muttering a couple ‘sorry’s when he starts to complain about the change in position.
you all but float to the kitchen, heading straight for the fridge and spotting the fresh cans of coke placed neatly in the overcrowded appliance. the first gulp feels like heaven against your parched throat, taking a few more while standing there.
“you gonna share or no?”, a voice startles you, turning to find haechan’s figure looming right behind you with a dopey smile on his face.
“god, we need to get you a bell or something. i never hear you coming”, you roll your eyes before grabbing two glasses from the cabinet. you’re disappointed to see that there was no ice in their freezer, but you pour the drink into the glass anyway.
“why are you pouring it into a glass?”, haechan furrows his eyebrows, looking pointedly between the glass and the literal can in your hand. “now we have to wash two glasses when we could’ve just drank it from the can.”
he’s right, of course, but you’re not gonna tell him that. instead, you pretend that you were planning on adding some lemon juice to the drink because you saw it on instagram. while you figure he doesn’t believe you, he humours you anyway and tries your little concoction, which ends up being pretty damn good.
out of all of jeno’s friends, haechan definitely stood out to you. you didn’t really understand why, you were just drawn to him, even way back before you met him, when jeno used to tell you about his friends. “loud and annoying” were the words he used to describe him, but the smile that appeared on his face anyway let you know that he was someone special to jeno. this was not to say his other friends weren’t special, you got along incredibly well with all of them, meshing right in with their group.
as of right on cue, jaemin’s voice loudly sounds out from the living room, “are you guys fucking in there or what?”.
sighing, you pick up your glass and begin to walk out of the kitchen, but not before purposely knocking haechan’s shoulder when you walk past him, hearing him snort before following you out as you exit the room. perhaps if you had lingered in the kitchen for a couple seconds longer, you would’ve heard haechan muttering something along the lines of “i wish” under his breath.
“jeez, took you long enough, can i have some of that?”, renjun drawls, lifting himself off the armchair with a smile, to which you roll your eyes but pass him your glass anyway. you sit down on the floor opposite the couch and he looks as if he is about to compliment your drink-making skills before haechan cuts him off.
“dude, chaewon and sieun look like they’re about to fall asleep, let’s do something”, he half yawns out, opting to stroll over to your spot on the floor and sinking down next to you.
“not…sleepy…”, chaewon murmurs, but her voice is muffled because her cheek is pressed against sieun’s shoulder, both of them sprawled out on the floor like it was a comfortable bed.
“sure you aren’t…”, jeno chides with a smile, getting up from the table to walk over to where all of you were situated. he twirls his newly rolled joint between his fingers, finally holding it out in his palm as if it were some magical gadget, and if you were being fully honest, you were sold. “round 2? or 3, I can’t really remember…”
some words of agreement were muttered across the room, chaewon and sieun even groggily getting up from what looked like a very comfortable napping spot. another rotation began, and you made sure to blow out your smoke directly into an unsuspecting haechan’s face when it was your turn.
“let’s play a game or something”, jaemin suggests, taking a long puff and passing it to jeno who sat beside him, and soon the room was hazy once again, the smell of weed infiltrating your nostrils.
“like what?”, chaewon coughs weakly in between her hit and renjun pats her back before he hands her your coke that you hadn’t received back after you gave it to him. so long for that.
“monopoly?”, jeno offers with a shrug and haechan lets out an obnoxious snore as a reply, making you laugh but you cover it up with a cough when you meet jeno’s playfully narrowed eyes. “okay then, big guy, what’s your incredible idea?”
haechan appears to actually think about it for a moment, looking around the room for some sort of inspiration maybe, until his eyes land on you.
“okay jaemin, get that empty wine bottle from last week, we’re playing spin the bottle”, he is grinning from ear to ear, wiggling his eyebrows even though all his suggestion receives is a bunch of groans and sighs.
your eyebrows are raised however, and you try not to let your reaction show too much on your face. spin the bottle? you hadn’t played that since you were maybe fourteen, but that was the least of your concerns at the moment. haechan wanted to play spin the bottle? who was he hoping to kiss? or was it just a whimsical little suggestion that was more of a joke?
it didn’t fully seem like he meant it as a joke, judging by his expression as he awaited some actual responses from the group. “what are we, fourteen?”, renjun might as well have read your mind, but he soon joins you and haechan on the floor, the others following suit. jaemin presents the empty bottle and places it in the middle of the little circle you have formed, everyone seeming slightly more keen as the joint runs out.
maybe it was the thc talking, but it didn’t really seem like a bad idea to you anymore. you were all single, attractive and close enough that it wouldn’t make things weird, and most importantly, you wouldn’t mind getting more familiar with haechan’s lips.
you shocked your own self with the sudden lewd thoughts in your head about the male sitting next to you, squirming in your position slightly. he turns his head towards you like he could hear your thoughts (“shut up, y/n, he can’t hear your thoughts…right?”) and you swear his eyes soften a bit. “are you sure you wanna play?”, he asks softly, mistaking your tenseness for discomfort, but you shake your head a little too quickly for your liking.
“no, no, let’s play, it’s not like we have anything better to do, right?”, you feign indifference and after everyone else agrees, the bottle is spun for the first time by haechan.
much to renjun’s dismay, it lands on him, and it’s almost comical the way he looks at the bottle pointing at him before slowly looking up at haechan. “renjunnie, let me kiss you”, haechan whines in a high pitched tone while drawing out the “you”, puckering his lips expectantly. the next three minutes consist of renjun listing every single person he would rather kiss than haechan, and you’d have half the mind to volunteer yourself if you weren’t clutching at your sides laughing at the whole exchange, slapping at both jeno and sieun who tried and failed to dodge your waving hands.
renjun finally relents when chaewon suggests he lets him kiss his cheek instead, but haechan is no quitter so he makes sure that he plants the loudest, most wet kiss on his face before sighing in victory when he sits back down. renjun is not the most happy with this, and he tells jaemin to take his turn instead while he rushes off to the bathroom to wash his face. hyuck looks indignant, calling out behind renjun, asking if he wants another one.
taking the turn instead of renjun, jaemin spins the bottle harshly, and it spins and spins and spins for what seemed like an eternity. your eyes are so focused on the way the bottle looks as it spins that you don’t even notice that it has stopped, until jeno nudges you with his shoulder. it’s neck is pointed directly at you, and you finally look up from your trance at jaemin, who wears an undeniable smirk on his face.
while you didn’t exactly see him that way, there was absolutely no denying that jaemin was a very attractive man, and he was no different presently, the sleeves of his hoodie rolled up as he propped himself up with his arms, looking at you expectantly.
you don’t want to look at haechan right now, because you can see out of the corner of your eye that his face is looking straight forward, not at you or jaemin, just forward. you wonder what is going through his head, but your thoughts are cut short when jaemin scoots closer to you in the circle.
“are you okay with this?”
and when you think about, you are. “yeah, i mean it’s just a game”, you reply, not wanting to ruin the fun or raise any suspicions, to which jaemin agrees and inclines his head towards you.
he kisses you, more fully than you were expecting, but you had no complaints really as you kissed him back, titling your head in the opposite direction to slip your lips over his. you wonder if your lips were as dry as they felt, and in the back of your mind it registers that your friends are watching you kiss your other friend because they hoot and giggle, but you can’t really bring yourself to care.
jaemin’s lips taste sweet and he smells sweet, his touch soft as he brings a hand up to your cheek, gently holding it while he continues kissing you. it probably wasn’t as long as it felt, but jaemin finally pulls away, the remnants of his sweet chapstick lingering on your lips. you are aware of how hot your face feels when you pull away and return to your spot, tucking your hair behind your ears.
“dude, what chapstick do you use?”, you ask after clearing your throat, and jaemin rummages in his pant pocket for a moment before whipping out a cute pink tube, holding it out in front of him. “strawberry dream, baby”, he winks, reapplying it on his lips. “never go anywhere without it.”
renjun returns after god knows how long, stating that he had to re-do his skin care routine because haechan had completely thrown off his skin’s ph balance, and is saddened to hear that he missed witnessing you and jaemin.
the game continues in a steadfast manner for the next couple of rounds thanks to haechan insisting we play one more round, though it doesn’t exactly go in the manner you were hoping for. the group is practically in tears after watching jeno and jaemin share an awkward kiss, chaewon arguing that they can’t claim “no homo” because it was the most homo thing she’d seen in a while, and that was saying a lot because she was, in fact, gay.
you have now kissed sieun, jaemin once again and an especially endearing renjun, who’s cheeks and tips of his ears are painted a bright red after you plant a full peck on his waiting lips. haechan grumbles something about renjun not having kissed anyone besides his mom to explain his reaction, but jeno is quick to cut renjun off before another argument ensues.
“i don’t know about you guys, but i think that’s enough exchanging of saliva for one day”, he all but sighs, lying down on the floor dramatically. while you do agree, you’re disheartened, because not once has the bottle landed on you when spun by haechan, or the other way around. it feels like the universe is fucking with you, because really how many times can you spin a bottle between a group of seven people and not have it land on the one person you want to kiss even once.
haechan looks like he wants to say something, but appears to decide against it in the end, stretching and standing up. it is then mutually agreed by everyone that it was time to watch a movie.
“super bad?”, jaemin proposes, and even though most people had already watched the movie, no one argues against it and jeno starts setting up the movie on their big screen tv.
settling into the couch, you glance over at haechan and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t feeling a tad bit disappointed. this whole spin the bottle thing makes you wonder about all the other times where you could have had an opportunity to make a move on the brown-haired boy.
you’d gone on long drives together, gone partying, even drank with just each other a couple of times. the closest the two of you had ever come to crossing that line was while you where dancing at a party and his arms were looped around your waist from behind, slowly swaying to the beat. you’d danced with him tons of times before that but you recall thinking the air was a little different than normal, more heated, but you also recall mistaking renjun for your professor, so you didn’t trust yourself. the moment came and went, and neither of you ever had the balls to address it, and now it had been way too long since to bring it up.
“this seat taken?”, haechan snaps you out of your bitter thoughts, jerking his head towards the spot on the couch next to you. you clear your throat and shake your head, scooting over slightly so he could sink down next to you. “what’s up, y/n, you look a little…not present. you still high?”
it’s funny because your mind certainly wasn’t present, it was in the gutter, but you choose to blame the weed. “yeah, i’m still high”, you answered truthfully, and so was he, his red, hooded eyes a dead giveaway.
“okay, perfect, i wanted to show you this stupid tiktok i saw”, he’s pulling his phone out of his pocket and leaning closer to you to show you some video of a cat, or maybe a dog, you weren’t paying attention. he laughs at whatever the animal did, the corner of his eyes crinkling as he does so, and you observe him instead of watching. when he doesn’t hear you laugh, he peeks over at you but you’re quick to turn your head back to his phone, letting out a very late giggle at the video.
if he did catch you, he doesn’t mention it, continuing to scroll and show you more videos. jeno finally gets the movie set up and turns off the lights, taking up the final seat left on the couch. the movie begins, and everyone falls into a comfortable silence bar hyuck, who makes the occasional comment that earns him a snort from you each time.
at some point during the movie, haechan stretches his arms out behind him, placing his arm on the head of the couch directly behind you. glancing at him quickly, you can’t tell whether the action was purposeful or not, because if it was, he was doing a very good job of looking nonchalant. you try your best to ignore it, but his hand is resting directly above your shoulder, inches away from touching you- but it never does.
you had never noticed what nice hands haechan had before. long and slender, nails clipped short and clean, his middle, ring and index finger adorned with various silver rings. you note that he wears three rings on his left hand, but none on his right. his right hand sits on top of one of his thighs, two of his fingers drumming against it following some rhythm going on in his head. his fingers are long, and the only thing you can think about is just how nice they would feel inside–
no, no, no, stop it, since when are you this horny?
you realise stressing out about how horny you are all of a sudden is just going to lead to a bad trip and you don’t want that, and you want to clear your head. even though you’re feeling a different kind of thirsty, you figure a distraction for a couple minutes would be helpful, so you excuse yourself to go get some water, jumping up from the couch and walking towards the kitchen. unbeknownst to you, haechan’s watchful eyes follow your figure as you exit the room.
finally away and in the kitchen, you fill up a glass and lean over the sink, closing your eyes to collect yourself. you can finish the movie without driving yourself crazy over haechan, right? tonight is no different than any other hangout and you don’t want to weird haechan out with your unnecessary staring and poorly concealed thirsting. you just need to stop thinking about his stupid hands, his stupid thighs, his stupid hair and his stupid kissable lips. “kissable? lock in, y/n, lock in…”
“who are you talking to?”
you wince but don’t turn around, eyes screwed shut tightly. you’ve been gone for a couple minutes and you don��t know when he left the room, but you put down the glass and turn to face him.
“what’s got you so jumpy?”, he questions, leaning against the counter. his arms are folded and his gaze is piercing, face tilted slightly to the left as he observes you. this is the second time he’s startled you in the kitchen today and also happens to be the very reason you’ve been so jumpy.
“nothing, i just…god, you need to starting announcing your entry into a room, dude…”
he furrows his eyebrows but lets out a chuckle anyway, slowly sauntering over to where you stood. eyes never leaving yours, he now stands directly in front of you, caging you in between the sink and his body. the closer proximity and dim lighting isn’t helping your case in the slightest, feeling all hot and bothered as if there was a sudden change in temperature. “what’s happening? you’re usually never like this, we’ve smoked up together so many times. are you having a bad trip?”
you understand why he might think that, what with your jerky movements, dazed staring and just overall disconnected demeanour. while you were wound up a little tighter than usual, you weren’t having a bad trip, your mind was just very slightly preoccupied. “no, hyuck, i’m fine, i just…needed some water”, it’s a half-lie you tell, choosing to not tell him the full truth for the sake of your own pride.
“you just seem…off”, he seems to pick his words carefully, eyes roaming over the expanse of your face. “no, i just…”, you trail off to try and find the words to explain this situation away, but he’s just looking at you so intensely. it’s so silent in the room and the air feels all too still, and you swear you’re trying to speak coherently but haechan switches his weight to his other leg, wetting his lips with his tongue while he awaits an answer and you just freeze. “i…”
“‘i’ what? see? you’re doing it again”, he starts, running a hand through his hair, and the muted light that leaks in through the window illuminates only one half of his face, but you can see him so clearly that even the way his pretty eyelashes brush against his cheek when he blinks doesn’t go unnoticed by you. you’re subconsciously chewing on your bottom lip, feeling a little like a deer caught in headlights. “you have this look in your eye. like you wanna…”
“…what?”
everything is still and unmoving, until your eyes zero in on haechan’s hand as he raises it, slowly bringing it to graze his fingers over your cheek. his touch leaves a burning hot trail on your skin and using his thumb, he releases your bottom lip from under your teeth, hand lingering cautiously for a fleeting moment before he drops it.
“like what, haechan?”, you repeat yourself, urging him to just say whatever it is he has to say, getting tired of this back and forth. you could sell a kidney just to see what was going on in his mind right now, because he looks torn between speaking his mind and just staying silent.
“like you want to kiss me.”
a few beats of complete and utter silence pass, not even hearing the dull sound of the television in the living room anymore over the thudding of your heart in your ears. haechan takes a small and tentative step towards your frozen figure, gripping the counter you’re using to lean against with his right hand, effectively trapping you in your place. now you really are a deer caught in headlights, because he’s spoken what you’ve been thinking about for the past couple hours into existence and he is absolutely correct.
“am i wrong, pretty?”
judging by your sharp intake of breath and open-mouthed expression, you’d have to be a fool to think otherwise. he looks as if he’s waiting for you to answer him regardless, giving you a chance to get out of this, but your voice is no longer functioning, and it takes all the strength in your body to shake your head ‘no’.
his eyes flicker between your eyes and your lips, tongue peeking out to lick his lips again. “i suggested playing spin the bottle because i wanted to kiss you”, his voice is strained as he admits this, quiet and careful like he’s holding back while his eyes are trained on yours like he’s daring you to break eye contact. you don’t. “but then everyone else was kissing you but me.”
normally you would giggle at his little frown, but all you can muster up is a whisper of his name, finally breaking his all-consuming eye contact in favour of looking at his lips again. you don’t know who moves first, but the next thing you know is your lips are pressed together in a fierce kiss, your hands tangled in his soft, brown locks while he grip your waist and pull you into him.
he kisses you like a man starved and you do the same with equal fervour, not even being able to process that your little daydream is coming true. his hand comes up to caress your cheek, soon moving down your neck after stroking your face softly, using it to tilt your head for you. the position of his hand is very purposeful because his thumb presses into your throat ever so slightly, but his grip is still tight enough that you couldn’t break the kiss (not that you wanted to, anyway). the other hand snakes around your waist and pulls you impossibly closer, pressing his hips into yours.
you’re positively drunk off the feeling of haechan’s lips molding over yours and you think you might just ascend when he tugs on your bottom lip with his teeth, using the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. body on fire, you mewl against his lips, swirling your own tongue around his while he slowly but surely bucks his hips into yours.
no wards are spoken while your hands thread through his hair, pulling on it and letting out a sound of surprise into his mouth when his hand trails down to your ass and grips it harshly. he finally releases you from the searing kiss, but he doesn’t let you catch your breath, instead spinning you around in his hold so that his front presses tightly into your back, hands slipping around your waist from behind. this feels like a déjà vu kind of moment because you are reminded of the time when you both were dancing in this exact position, except this time you were getting exactly what you wanted.
“you know how bad i wanted this?”, his voice echoes your thoughts and breaks the silence, hands running up and down your front in a teasing manner. lifting your shirt up slightly, he trails his fingers over the exposed skin of your torso and the action makes you squirm in his hold a little, and much to your surprise, he groans lewdly against your ear. “fuck, i’ve been thinking of this for so long. kissing you, having my hands all over you…”
you get the sense he’s talking more to himself than you, but you revel in it nonetheless. his hand grips your jaw and squishes your cheeks together so your lips form a pout, forcing it to the side where he plants one, two, three kisses to your puckered mouth. his other hand slips further up your shirt where he brazenly cups your boob through your bra, fondling one of them while his tongue peeks out to flick at your bottom lip.
you’re putty in his arms, all gasps and squirms and whispered ‘haechan’s. “what, baby?”, he mumbles into your cheek, the hand gripping your jaw letting go in order to slink down to your hip where it lingers for a moment. “what do you want?”
your lack of answer doesn’t bode well with him, earning you a tight squeeze to your hip as a kind of warning. “need you to touch me”, you whisper out defeatedly, and you feel haechan laugh mockingly against your face.
“yeah? need me to touch you?”, he mimics your voice while tutting, letting his hand slip further down to where you needed him the most, but not letting you have it just yet. “think you can be a good girl and keep quiet for me? we don’t need everyone outside hearing what a little slut you’re being in here.”
everyone outside. the fact that you were just a room away from all your friends who were sat watching a fun little movie together had completely slipped your mind, but if you were being honest, you couldn’t find it in you to give a shit. everything about your current disposition was so dirty. one hand under your shirt, the other about two seconds away from fingering you right in the middle of your friends’ kitchen, while said friends were sat outside, unaware of the goings-on under their own roof.
though you didn’t think actually getting caught in this position would be the most pleasant experience, the idea of it dampened your panties and caused you to whine out loud, tilting your head back against haechan’s shoulder. you receive an immediate hand clamped over your mouth in return, haechan tutting in your ear condescendingly. “looks like the little slut can’t follow a simple request.”
even though he reprimands you, his hands begin fumbling with the button of your jeans anyway, undoing it and pulling the zipper down. one hand comes up to wrap around your front and rests on your shoulder, holding you in place, and the other he sticks down your pants and cups your heat but makes no effort to move, chuckling when you try to move yourself against it. his crotch ruts against the swell of your ass and for you, any friction is better than no friction at the moment. with one hand gipping the arm around your shoulder, you slip the other behind you to palm at his hard cock over his pants, making him let out a sound of approval.
“please, hyuck”, you shake your face free of his hand and turn to look him in the eye, and he grips your throat and presses a chaste kiss to your lips.
he seems to accept your plea, finally moving his hand against you and you breathe a sigh of relief, lost in the feeling of his fingers rubbing circles on your clit over your wet underwear. he’s quick to slip his hand inside your panties, cold fingers pressed directly on to your bare pussy, spreading your wetness all over you. when he ultimately slips a finger into your tight, waiting core, you moan but it’s cut short when he slaps his hand over your mouth again. “keep. quiet.”
if someone were to walk in, the two of you would be a sight to see. you writhing in his tight hold while his hand is stuffed in your pants, two fingers pistoning in and out of you at a fast pace as his forehead is pressed against the side of your face, releasing short breaths. you look positively fucked out, and you’re both in a state of complete bliss as you grind against each other in a timely rhythm.
“my pretty girl. if i had known you wanted this too, i would’ve just grabbed you and kissed you like i wanted, in front of everyone.”
his voice is honey-like and sultry, and his fingers are nothing short of heavenly. they pump in and out of you, and he still manages to use his thumb to toy with your clit in this position, leaving you breathless and on the edge. “can’t believe jaemin and renjun got to kiss you before me.”
you’re so wet that your cunt makes downright sinful noises as he fingers you and you’re hoping that it isn’t really as loud as it seems. “you’re so wet, angel. so this is what had you all jumpy today”, he laughs like he’s stating the obvious, and you’d have half the mind to feel shy if his ministrations didn’t feel so fucking good right now.
you’re aware that you’re close and so is he because you’re clenching around his fingers, so he quickens his pace both inside you and against your clit. “you gonna cum for me, baby? right here, in the middle of kitchen, while everyone’s outside?”, he purrs against your face and you grip the part of his arm that isn’t shoved in your pants, digging your nails into his skin in a way that’s sure to leave a mark. his words make you feel dirty in the best way, not even knowing you could feel this turned on.
he peppers kisses along your jaw and neck, sucking here and there, and through the pale moonlight bleeding into the room from the window, the red blemishes that begin to bloom on your skin are visible to hyuck, and he seems pleased with his artwork. “that’s it, sweetheart, let go for me.”
your moans are muffled against his palm when you finally come, the orgasm ripping through you so strongly that you go limp in his hands, legs almost buckling at the sensation. with the added boost of the weed you smoked earlier, your orgasm is immense, feeling it pulse through your body until it’s too much, whining and wriggling in haechan’s firm hold. he holds you still and helps you ride out your high, whispering utterances of “that’s right, baby” and “my good girl” into your ear while you throw your head back and try to regulate your breathing.
in a moment, his hand slips out of your pants, turning you back around so you’re now facing him, grinning down at you from ear to ear as if you both hadn’t just defiled jaemin and jeno’s kitchen. “you feeling okay?”, he mumbles, tucking your hair behind your ear with the hand that wasn’t soaked, pressing a number of kisses all over your face as you nod and giggled, trying to evade his attack. he lets you go just to wash his hands, and it’s when he dries his wet hands on the material of his pants that you notice his raging boner, immediately feeling bad.
“wait hyuck, let me–“
as if he’s reading your mind once again, he shakes his head and takes both of your hands into his, wrapping them around his own waist while pulling you into him. “we can save that for another time, pretty”, he insists, his expression turning shy when he realises the implications behind his words. “that is, i-if you want another time, of course–“
it’s your turn to cut him off this time, but you do so by leaning up and connecting your lips again, bring a hand up to stroke his cheek. “of course i want another time, hyuck. i want this. i want you.”
your assurances do good to bring a smile to his pretty face, taking ahold of the hand on his cheek and pressing his lips to your skin gently, lovingly. “so, so, perfect.”
taking note of the prolonged amount of time the two of you had been gone, you skulk back into the living, but this time, hand in hand.
the scene you’re greeted with is a surprising one, because you find every single one of your friends to be sound asleep, much to your amusement and hyuck’s dismay. “so you’re telling me i could’ve been hearing you moan the whole time and none of these idiots would have even known?”, he is appalled, a hand coming up to rub at his face out of frustration. “i did all that for nothing?”
“i wouldn’t say for nothing”, you reveal, biting your lip and smiling up at the boy shyly. “i might have woken them up.”
“oh yeah, well now you’re going to”, and with that, he’s dragging you back to the kitchen while you giggle, nearly tripping over your own feet before he all but scoops you up in his arms, muttering to himself about having left something in the kitchen that needed urgent fetching.
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onlyswan · 2 months
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summary: in which you want to turn back the clock and jungkook wants you to stay.
idol!jungkook x reader, est. relationship / angst, fluff / word count: 5.8k
content/warnings: mistreatment of service workers / oc felt inappropriately touched by a customer (only mentioned in passing) / (oc works part-time in a restaurant) (then quits) / another dive into oc’s lore / allusion to death / grief grief grief / lots of crying :( / jk wants to move in together :") / mention of s*x (24/7=heaven?) / mention of period blood (they’re in diff contexts js to be clear lol) / u will get pissed and cry and laugh it’s fun <3
playlist! knees - iu ; chinese satellite - phoebe bridgers ; love wins all - iu
> in which masterlist
note: contains lil flashblacks from the giving up drabbles ^^ can be found in the timeline masterlist above this incase u haven’t read them and want to ^^ listen to love wins all when jungkook tells oc to wear their seatbelt (trust me). tried to encapsulate the epiphany of oh. everything’s going to be okay because i am loved when i’m at my lowest. as always reblogs & feedback are appreciated :") come chat!!
the rusty swing-set creaks as you unsteadily swing back and forth, staring lifelessly at your white socks and shoes stained with burnt orange. you look up to the sky but the moon and the stars are shrouded by the clouds. not even your favorite snack can poison your sadness with optimism. mouthful of bungeoppang, but you taste nothing, and every swallow only adds to the heaviness weighing on your chest.
your shift should be ending by now, which means you probably should be heading home, but your limbs have given up and refuses to move.
jungkook’s special ringtone ceaselessly disrupts the night scene’s quiet, but there’s no point in answering his calls when you know no words would come out of you.
“are you an imbecile?! you can’t understand basic instructions?!”
“ma’am, i’m so sorry. i’ll take it back and give you the right ord-”
“we’re fucking starving! move faster!”
you flinch as the bowl collides with the tiled floor, producing an ear-splitting sound that reverberates throughout the entire restaurant. you want to give the woman the benefit of the doubt and believe that she just shoved the bowl a little too harshly due to her frustration, but you have a hand over your mouth not due to shock, but the inexplicable pain of having your skin burnt by the piping hot soup… and she’s just… there.
“i’m sorry, i’m sorry! please understand. she’s just in a bad mood. she’s not- she’s not usually like this.”
you stand on your spot, frozen and speechless, as her husband profusely apologizes. you’re only jolted out from trance when you feel him wiping your legs with crumpled tissue papers, a little too farther up for your comfort. a fleeting tug-of-war ensues when you forcefully rip them away from his hands. you thank him despite not meaning it.
you grip the edge of your skirt as you sit on your heels, picking up the broken shards of glass scattered across the floor. a concerned co-worker swoops in with a broom and you instantly jump the opportunity to save yourself from the mortifying stares, mumbling another thank you as you take your leave.
“you said table six.”
“____, i’m sorry. that was a fault on my part.”
your manager observes your current state. his stare lingers at your feet.
“but they don’t know that! she literally burnt me!”
“look, we don’t have to take this too far. it couldn’t have been that hot. we can see you’re still walking.” his condescending tone makes you feel so small, but it fuels the anger inside of you. “you don’t have to pay for the damages, so let’s just put this behind us.”
you gasp in disbelief, and it borders on a laugh. you feel crazy. you can’t believe this is actually happening to you. he can’t be fucking serious.
the workers in the kitchen remain quiet as tension arises, minds a tornado of thoughts but mouths remaining shut in fear of getting on the bad side of their superior.
“well you…” you hastily strip off your apron, bunching it up into one big ball. “don’t have to pay me anymore, because i fucking quit! i hope this place burns down!”
and you ensure that it hits him on the face before you turn around to march out of the kitchen. on the way out of the restaurant, you nonchalantly grab a bottle of water from the fridge, twisting off the cap as you push the door open. you leave a wet trail behind your steps as you pour the cold water over your feet, a poor attempt to soothe the sharp pain of the injury.
you know it will be alright eventually; you will heal, but this… this is leaving a permanent scar on your dignity.
with a vexed groan, you retrieve your vibrating phone from your pocket.
LAST EVICTION NOTICE— you do not even bother reading the rest of the words that come after that.
“fuck!” you scream, throwing the bottle at the nearest wall, hands coming up to your hair to roughly pull in frustration. the heels of your palm dig into your eyes and your knees give way to the ground. “this is a nightmare.”
it dawns on you that you’ve finally arrived at a surface on the rock bottom that you so awfully dread. you find yourself standing here— infront of the atm machine, staring blankly at the large number displayed on the screen. this money isn’t yours. this didn’t come from your blood, sweat, and tears. it’s an amount that you’re supposed to accept as a payment for the eulogies you had to deliver. you swore you would never do this, but desperate times come when you’re forced to swallow your pride and allow it to rot you from the inside.
you’re once again faced with the ugly difference between surviving and living.
you grab the cash, hastily pushing them inside the pocket of your jacket as if you’re being burnt by them. you feel so nauseous; if only emptying your stomach would untangle its knots.
you don’t need anything from anyone. this is the first and the last time, you swear to yourself in place of your defeated oath.
you don’t want jungkook to see you like this, helpless and hollow, the antonym of the sun he willingly flew too close to. you look pathetic seeking for solace in an abandoned playground, unfortunate soul stuck at fifteen, in denial of the passage of time.
but there goes your lover running towards you, calling out your name, and you begin praying for yourself to disappear into thin air.
much to your disappointment, no wiser being grants your plea, and now you have a man tucking you in his safe embrace, uncaring of his knees being bruised by the ground.
does he need to surprise you when you least anticipate his presence?
“i’ve been looking everywhere for you! i went to pick you up at the restaurant but they told me that you quit! what happened?”
he pulls away, tenderly cupping your cheeks in his warm hands.
“was it your boss again? it’s him, isn’t it? what did he do?”
jungkook dies a little inside. your glassy eyes study his face, a clear picture of distress and concern, but at the same time, they seem so far away… like you’re not certain if you’re truly here.
you unconsciously squirm— your feet retract themselves, escaping underneath the swing; and your ankles twist, and twist, one hiding behind the other.
this doesn’t feel like being stripped naked.
you feel like you’re being turned inside out.
“what’s wrong? baby…” he utters sadly as tears drip from your lashes—one by one— even they are lost and hesitant.
your distant stare remains.
he doesn’t know if you’re even aware that you’re crying. it’s a frightening sight and he doesn’t know what else to do. he holds you in his arms but you feel too stiff for this to be comfortable. the time passes, and he lets it do so in silence.
he waits for you to come back to him.
he waits, and waits, and waits.
“jungkook… i want to go home.”
“okay. i’ll bring you home, baby.” he strokes your hair, breathing out in relief. “yours? or mine?”
only for his world to crumble into pieces.
“my mom…” you whisper, breathless, releasing yourself from his embrace. “i want to be with my mom.”
and only then does he see traces of emotions written on your face.
“i miss my mom so much.”
the crack of your voice gives him an opening to catch a glimpse of your heart, that is but a mosaic of broken parts. pain, grief, longing… the past two years haven’t been enough to make him well-acquainted with the anatomy of your afflictions. he has only witnessed you speak of your family with a proud and affectionate beam; old stories that spark the agent of joy. and despite knowing that you must’ve been battling your pain all these years all alone, he couldn’t bring himself to meddle with how you handled your grief. however, if he’s going to be completely truthful, he was terrified of this— of seeing you so unmoored and broken. his pain is no comparison. quite frankly, it is an insult to yours.
“i miss her so, so, so much. what do i do? i…” you sobs become uncontrollable, overcome by the weight of the world crashing down on you.
how is it possible that you feel nothing and too much at the same time? is what you would often ask before, but today you realize that your pain simply goes beyond what any of your human parts is able to fathom.
“this is too hard… it’s too tiring. i can’t- i can’t. i don’t want to be here anymore. i’m always so scared. i don’t know what i’m doing anym-”
“shh, shhh, baby- baby, breathe for me-”
“how did my life end up like this? i don’t understand! the world- it’s so cruel- i can’t stand it.”
jungkook wipes away your tears, but it’s no use. once you break down, it becomes impossible to remedy. nonetheless, that doesn’t deter your boyfriend from trying. he gathers your weeping and trembling vessel in an attempt to glue you back together, and in while doing so, he also wills himself to be strong for you.
“why did she have to go after them and leave me all alone here? am i not her child too?”
the obtuse questions you’ve been too afraid to ask out loud are being brought out in the open, spilling out from the torn seams of your soul as they’ve become too agonizing to annihilate over and over and over again.
you know the answer. you know she didn’t want to leave.
but you can’t help but to be angry at the fact that her heart gave up. you don’t understand why it had to happen and why you’re being grinded in the mouth of the world.
“i’m tired, i’m so tired. it’s so unfair… i need her with me too…”
jungkook squeezes his eyes shut, gently rocking your tangled bodies — a defense mechanism. you’re succumbing to defeat as if it’s been long overdue; even your voice is giving up on you.
if he had to imagine, the earth must have shared his current dread when it witnessed a solar eclipse for the first time, wired to assume the worst of perpetual darkness.
“jungkook…”
your weak fists desperately grasping at the fabric of his hoodie— the final thread you are hanging on. your words break into stutters and hiccups, salty tears slipping past your lips and stirring their bitter taste.
“i just want to go and be my mom’s child again.”
and he would truly fucking hate to try and get into the implication of your words, but if jungkook is going to be completely truthful— he is terrified beyond words can say. of this; of witnessing you slip away from everything you’ve ever known; of losing you. maybe he’s being selfish, but whatever it takes, he will make you stay.
he swallows the lump in his throat, hurriedly drying his eyes with his sleeve before facing you.
“listen to me, okay…?” his voice isn’t enough to pull your head from underwater; he lightly taps your cheek, even though it breaks his heart. “hey, hey, hey. look at me, baby- look at me.”
he searches for your eyes, begging them to focus on him. and it’s silly, what he does next, pressing a kiss to your lips as if this is a fairytale. but then it works— you tilt your head to subtly nuzzle your cheek against his palm— and he has to quickly recover from being taken aback. you effortlessly make a slave out of his heart.
“you never stopped being her child. and that will never happen! because even with them being gone, you haven’t stopped trying your best to be a good child and older sibling to them. i… i’m a witness to that. every single day. are you hearing me?”
can he get some sort of sign whether he is doing this right or wrong?
“you’re not alone here because you have me. you do know that, right?”
and you want to believe him… you do. but just like how you’re clinging onto him right now for dear life, you can’t forget how you had to beg him to stay.
“so stop working all these jobs! please, i’m begging you! it must also break your mom’s heart to see you torturing yourself like this. it’s not healthy! just focus on studying and let me take away your burdens, please?”
you stop breathing; your features soften like you’ve made it out of a nightmare.
“jungkook…”
“let’s live together, baby.” he sounds sure; he sounds steady, but the waver of his eyes beseeches you. “you’ve been so good to me, even when i didn’t deserve it. please… let me love you in my own way too.”
“stop. i told you… i’m still thinking about it.” you say meekly, avoiding his intense gaze. “i mean, let’s be honest. what would your family even think of me? your aunt already hates me. what if she uses this to prove that she was right about me and-”
“fuck what everyone else thinks. i couldn’t care less.”
the reminder of the disrespect you were subjected to because of him has him seething all over again. his jaw clenches in anger, and he feels obligated to take a deep breath so he can keep himself composed. growing up, he was always taught to be the bigger person, but he simply can’t implore himself to do that if it means turning a blind eye to your hurt.
“i won’t let her get away with that type of bullshit so don’t even bother thinking about her anymore. i’ll take care of it. we can’t let that get into our heads. right, baby? we said that?” his thumb caresses your cheek softly, and you hold on to his wrist, silent as you try to understand him through the thick haze clouding your mind. “i want to be with the person i love. how could that be so wrong?”
you slowly shake your head in response, a little hesitant.
“i won’t leave again. no matter how hard you push me away, i will stay within your reach.”
and here he is, kneeling infront of you, seeking to make true of what he solemnly vowed to you.
are you going to take this away from him? after everything you’ve gone through together?
he is the only thing you have left to lose.
“i love you.” you whisper, initiating the hug this time.
you’re holding him tight, like you don’t ever want to let go, and it brings jungkook to the brink of tears once more.
“i love you so much.”
he sweetly kisses your cheek, but when you pull away to give him that look, a wordless command for more, his lips finally meet yours for the first time in forty-eight hours. they slowly curve into a smile, not at all surprised that he’s tasting sugar. he’d go through hell and back to experience this kind of kiss one time, only to do it all over again.
“let’s go home?”
you blink at him cluelessly. you don’t know why he’s wearing a dimpled smile out of the blue, neither do you know which home he is referring to. nevertheless, you intertwine your fingers with his, choosing to save yourself from this forlorn neverland.
there’s just… one teeny… tiny problem…
“shit,” you mutter to yourself, freezing on your tracks.
“what’s wrong?”
you awkwardly glance down at your shoes, the origin of the squeaky sound that was impossible to be missed by your ears. after inspecting you from head to toe, a worried expression morphs on his face, and you can only show him a shy wince in response.
“i don’t want to make your car dirty.”
“baby…”
his chest feels so much heavier. he is nearly blinded with red. he wants to scream and be infuriated. what the fuck happened back there?
you merely shrug, sending him a forced smile. “do you still have those extra slippers?”
“jungkook, i can do it myself.”
he clicks his tongue, his hand around your calf gripping. “stay still!”
you watch him from the passenger seat, your legs dangling from the edge as he carefully takes off your shoes and socks, yet again kneeling on the ground.
“does it hurt a lot?”
“not… a lot.” you answer through gritted teeth.
perhaps the stinging never did quell; it was just pushed to the back of your mind when more painful things surfaced succeeding it.
“who did this to you, huh? i need to go back there and make them pay! what kind of decent human being would do that?!”
“a miserable woman in a miserable marriage.”
in her eyes, you may be naive and she, the decades old wiser— but who is the one with a lover who would wash not their dirty hands, but their feet that have walked a million miles?
“i feel bad for her.” you comment absentmindedly.
you’re too far deep in awe watching jungkook gingerly clean your bare feet with his hands and a bottle of cool water, doing what you were meant to do earlier, if only granted that you weren’t erupting with rage.
“____, you’re too nice.”
“you’re too nice.” you argue. “also, those shoes are hopeless. just throw them away.”
he glances at you with fondness, shaking his head as he softly pats you dry with a clean towel. you stifle a gasp. it’s no longer as bad as before, but your skin still feels warm and raw. this wasn’t in the job description. you decide that you can practice empathy, as well as your strong belief in karma, at the same time. at this moment, you hope that the universe is already crafting tricks up its sleeve, because you’re in a world of fucking pain.
“there you go. wait until we get off the car before you wear the slippers, alright? and you’re not allowed to wear tight shoes.”
he rises to his feet, not wasting the opportunity to steal a kiss.
“yeah, it was wildly uncomfortable.” you mumble against his lips, tugging at his collar to properly respond to his display of affection. “thank you.”
“wear your seatbelt.” his eyes shines with a glint of with uncontainable excitement. “we’re going home.”
you stir as jungkook gently shakes your body awake, his muffled voice gradually becoming clearer as you gain your consciousness.
“wake up, baby. we’re here.”
you tiredly rub off the sleep from your swollen eyes, discovering your boyfriend waiting for you where the door of the passenger seat should be.
“let’s get you some more rest.” he places a chaste kiss on your forehead, before standing aside to make way for you, offering his hand as a gentleman.
you must still be dreaming. you assumed he would bring you to his apartment, but you do not recognize this place. this is a different parking space, a different parking lot.
“um… t-this is…” you stumble on your words, feeling lost. “where are we?”
“home,” he smiles, the kind that reaches his eyes and turn them into little crescent moons.
you must still be dreaming. the clock attached to a nearby pillar strikes midnight, and unbeknownst to you, a brand new day awaits beyond the dark and empty sky.
you were so thoroughly convinced that you’ve been living a life past the point of salvation… but life stands before you overflowing with hope and glowing with ardor.
you take his hand and allow him to whisk you away to another world.
this is beginning to feel real, jungkook thinks as he presses the elevator button. earlier’s excitement becomes interweaved with nervousness. he’s a little dizzy as the giant box ascends. if you feel his hand’s growing clamminess, you don’t show it, your clasp still as firm as before.
“you bought another house…”
“hmm, but this one is a secret.” a confession that is yours truly. “this one is ours.”
your eyes wordlessly speak with each other. neither of you imagined following your hearts could materialize your future plans to the present time. what goes beyond dreaming of beautiful things is still foreign to the both of you, but jungkook is here, willing to free fall with you.
the elevator dings.
he guides you through a well-lit hallway, to a door, and you pay close attention as he punches in the passcode— another set of numbers you ought to have memorized alongside birthdays and anniversaries and id numbers.
your heart races but everything else moves in slow motion. the door opens and you get swallowed by the need to remember every moment so vividly as if you’re reliving it.
the first time you set foot into your own apartment,, the empty space daunted you despite its modest dimensions. however, right now, your head is tracing half of a circle, from left to right, just to study this large space in its entirety— and all you can think about are the endless possibilities forming intimate images of a sanctuary in your head— a place where fears and sadness can co-exist with tenderness and joy.
beside you, jungkook patiently holds your hand.
“this one is ours…” you repeat the words, more so to convince yourself, and they drip with disbelief.
you follow his lead as he walks to the other half of the room, bare feet sliding across the floor.
“this is the living room, and the other side is the kitchen.”
he faces you with a wide grin, the kind he wears when he wants to tell you something he is proud of.
“i was thinking that if we get a big television bolted on the wall…”
he gestures to the blank canvas, letting go of your hand to draw an invisible rectangle on the air with his arms fully outstretched.
“then we can easily watch even from the kitchen.”
he puffs up his chest, side-eyeing you expectantly.
“genius, right?”
“and greedy.” you blink. “i don’t think that’s safe to do while you’re cooking.”
“but i’ll be very, very careful!”
“that’s the bare minimum when you’re holding a knife.”
“okay! i look forward to arguing with you about that on a different day!”
his enthusiasm doesn’t waver. in fact, it is fueled. how could it not? when you’re starting to sound exactly like a couple who lives together?
he captures your wrist and tugs you towards the other side of the room, but you pull him back with a noise of protest.
“are we not going to address…” you hang on to your words, eyes wandering to the floor where there are signs of living. “whatever is going on here?”
a single mattress with a single pillow; a folded blanket neatly sitting on top of it. surrounding them are bottles of water, a laptop, a speaker, and a basket of what you assume are skincare products.
“i’ve been sleeping here lately…”
“i can see that.”
“i didn’t want to buy furnitures yet while you haven’t given me an answer… i just thought that if we’re living together, then we should decide on those things as a couple.”
…he dips down to kiss you. “it was hell without you…”
his teeth captures your bottom lip, nipping at the supple flesh.
“going to build a life with you. i’ll build furniture, and they’re going to be ours.”
jungkook feels your stare. oblivious of your thoughts reigning chaos, he tilts his head in question.
how long has he been planning this?
“you okay?”
you blink away the tears brimming your eyes. you shake your head, clinging to his arm. “where were you taking me?”
“this is the kitchen!”
a smile of contentment graces your lips. you’re guilty of admiring the pure, unadulterated joy on jungkook’s face instead of what he is passionately endorsing to you.
“this is the fridge!” he presents to you, swinging the door open. “but there’s nothing inside.”
“what are you saying? there is something.”
the two of you peer at the green can of soda, chilsung cider, left at a far corner. the refrigerator light casts over your curious faces.
“oh, that’s still there?”
the animated sound of your giggles prompts him to look at you, and he couldn’t be more glad to be laughing with you again, bellies aching at the same time.
“do you want it?”
“it’s not peach.”
“let’s move on then!”
there are cups of ramyeon and packs of dried seaweed on the countertop, the photo of his dinner that he sent last night still vivid in your memory. your hand daintily brushes across the white marble, stealing a feel as jungkook drags you to a new space.
“this is the second kitchen and laundry room!”
he waits for a reaction as you survey the room and its overhead cabinets.
“it’s not supposed to be the pantry…? eh, you know what? cooking and doing laundry are more of your thing so you can have them however you want.”
you turn on your heel to walk away, and jungkook follows behind you, celebrating his victory by punching the air and whisper-shouting a yeah!
“what’s here?”
you reach another hallway beside the living room.
“what’s here?” he zooms past you to open a door. “bathroom. there’s a bathtub! but i still need to install grip bars so no one will slip.”
he needs to stop saying things that make you want to make him your husband on the spot.
“and we have my favorite part! the master bedroom, of course!” he swings the door open on the other side. “where else would we spend the most time in?”
“wow, really? i thought you were also endorsing the living room as the bedroom.” you jokingly quirk an eyebrow.
“nonsense!” he cheekily chides you. “you deserve better than that.”
you take a step, peeking inside the empty room that you estimate to be as twice as larger than yours. you can’t say that you care so much about its size, because behind the white curtains, you reel at the prospect of the natural light shining over your face every time you wake up. your mornings have been gloomy since you arrived at seoul four years ago.
he sneaks his arms around your waist, your back resting against his chest, and your being feels so light you might just begin floating when he lets go.
“let’s stay like this for a while.”
“okay,” he puts his chin on top of your shoulder, his soft smile becoming permanent.
the two of you stand at the bedroom’s doorway; the cusp of what could be your entire lives.
“what’s that other room?”
“which one?”
“i don’t know. i see it from the side of my eye.”
he cackles at your humorous nonchalance. “i have more to show you. there’s a guest room… if we decide it to be.”
“cute. i have somewhere else to sleep when i’m mad at you.”
“that’s fine,” he replies after a beat of silence. “at least i’d know where to find you.”
“don’t make me change my mind.”
he cries out your name childishly, burying his face by the crook of your neck. he hugs you tighter. he wants to sleep every night drowning in the sweet scent of your hair. if he had to choose, it would be the most peaceful way to go.
“we have a walk-in closet too!”
“i expected nothing less.” you giggle, not a stranger to his lifestyle. “what’s exciting is that we can finally have a big bed.”
“but i like our small beds.”
“cuddling isn’t all that fun during the summer. trust me, you’d eventually want space.”
“nuh-uh! that’s what aircons are for!”
you roll your eyes at his persistence. “then why did you choose such a huge apartment if you wanted a small bed?”
“so we can have all the space to slow-dance to love songs.”
jungkook, ever the charmer. the butterflies in your stomach come alive beneath his embrace.
“why are you suddenly quiet?” he laughs. “was that too cheesy?”
“no!”
“really?” he spins you around, and heat creeps to your cheeks when he leans in so close that you can perfectly distinguish the brown in his eyes. “so have you given it more thought?”
“given what more thought?”
“there’s nothing to be scared of. it’s only the two of us here, see?” he tells you like overeager puppy. “will you move in with me?”
if this is a dream, you wish to never wake up from it. to have a person care for you this deeply and unconditionally, you want to believe that you have done something right to deserve it.
“i just don’t think you understand what you’re getting yourself into.”
his eyebrows knit together in defense. “what does that mean?”
“the thing is… yeah, sex 24/7 and cuddling and having first times together, that sounds amazing and all… but living with me would probably drive you crazy.”
a tired yawn almost interrupts the end of your sentence, and you cover your face out of courtesy. you sniffle and wipe your teary eyes with the back of your hand.
“i’ve lived on my own for so long. i’m messy and clumsy and i’m used to having everything my way… i mean… i’m willing to compromise, but i can’t promise i won’t be insufferable as hell about it.”
“ah, seriously! you scared me for nothing!” he exclaims, throwing his head back with a groan. “baby, i’ve been living with six other men for the past decade. you know that there was a time when we even slept together in one small room. can you imagine how that must’ve been like for a bunch of teenage boys…? you? messy? think about it again. living with you can’t possibly get worse than that. you don’t have to worry about me! really, i can take it! watch me!”
“but i bleed every month.”
“i’m a man. seeing a little blood doesn’t faze me.”
you make a face. “it’s actually a lot.”
“yah, why are you acting like we haven’t been together for two years?”
“it’s different living together!”
“it’s only natural! i don’t care!”
a noise of complaint bubbles in your throat when he shakes you by your shoulders, coaxing you with an whiny “please baby.”
your chest deflates in defeat. “sure, i guess… as long as we have the big bed, and the slow-dancing-”
“done!” he doesn’t waste his breath, not keen on wasting this opportunity. “anything you want, you have it!”
you narrow your eyes. “and i’ll keep my tutoring job.”
“will you punch the next guy that insists you study at his dorm for me?”
“or i can just keep saying no firmly, baby boy.”
and with that pet name, he instantly folds. “okay.”
“okay?”
“okay, since that’s the only one that you genuinely like.”
“you-” your teeth unconsciously finds your bottom lip to dig into, and you inhale sharply. “…you really love me, don’t you?”
suddenly, you’re raising your voice and waving your hands in the air. you’re feeling too many emotions at once; it’s like when you mix all the colors in a palette and end up creating black. you’re angry and happy and you may be fucking crying again.
“you were just picking up speakers one night and a pretty stranger offers you some boring food and now you want to be stuck with me forever?”
your fist throws a restrained punch to his chest, shoving him backwards.
“oh my god, you’re so stupid!”
jungkook finds this too amusing, tries to hide that he is enjoying this but a smirk is plastered on his face.
“you are loved by so many,” he brushes away the hair that has fallen over your eyes. he tucks them behind you ears and tenderly holds your face in his warm hands. “but i’m confident that i love you the most.”
you are the muse in his dreams. your perfume clings to his clothes. you make him the happiest man on the planet and your pain torments him. what is this, if not love?
“and if that makes me the stupid one? then so be it.”
“when did it become a competition?”
“since you got yourself a competitive boyfriend!”
“okay, fine! let’s make it my fault!”
you throw your arms around his neck, peppering kisses all over his face until he’s an uncontainable giggling mess.
“i’m drowning in kisses! nobody help!”
and you hope you’re hugging him close enough that he can feel the love and gratitude flowing through your veins. your eyes flutter shut, and you sigh— tranquility triumphs over chaos.
“are you falling asleep standing up again?”
“no!” you blatantly lie, drawing back with innocence masking your drowsiness. “we still need to go online shopping!”
“what are we buying?”
your face lights up. “appliances first?”
“appliances?” he cheerfully says. “sure! let’s get you new shoes too!”
as he gets dragged to the living room where his laptop is, he mumbles something with an enamored expression. “i should keep working hard.”
“yah, why are looking at me like that?” jungkook chuckles upon feeling your poorly concealed stare, diverting his attention away from the laptop over his stomach. “i’m the real deal. the tv is over there, on the screen.”
“just because…”
you snuggle closer to his side, heart fluttering when his arm that is your pillow moves to also hold you. you don’t really mind a small bed. this is the most favorable consequence a nuisance could have.
“i feel sorry.”
“sorry? for what?”
“because i made you sad, didn’t i? i hate that so much.” you sniffle, hand coming up to pat his cheek affectionately. “i know it must be hard for you too.”
“you’re the one who’s in a lot of pain.” he means to firmly speak, but the tremble of his voice rudely refuses to cooperate. “how could you even think of me feeling sad?”
“because i love you. of course i always think of you.” you argue, bottom lip jutting out into a pout. “i can’t do that now?”
he sighs. “you know that’s not what i meant.”
a kiss is planted on your forehead— tender and cherishing.
“let’s be happy, baby.”
the sharp edges of jungkook’s fears are eroded in a way. in a universe that relentlessly challenges you to be optimistic, your heart that is well-versed in loving continues to rise above it all.
you echo his words wistfully. “let’s be happy.”
taglist in the reblogs! send an ask/dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D
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abbyromanoff · 5 months
Note
Request! Fem!reader x Natasha. Reader is hunting natasha as she is an assassin. Natasha (pre-shield) in her freelance days, captures Reader and tortures her using sex (not letting her cum etc) to see who is hunting her. They turn into “enemies with benefits” if u yk what I mean
NEVER KNOW
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PAIRINGS: Natasha Romanoff x reader
WORD COUNT:
WARNINGS: smut, dark themes, kidnapping, mentions of killing, overstimulation, edging, orgasm denials, enemies to lovers typa feel, strap on usage, think that’s all :)
NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN!!
“You can take one more-“
“No,”
“Yes, you can.” She demanded, and you had no choice but to listen and comply. Her cock teased your g-spot with every thrust and led your mouth to part in a loud moan. The harness around her hips brought a small brush of the clit, causing her pace to quicken in hopes of reaching a further state of arousal.
“P..please, I can’t t-take anymore.” You mumbled out quietly, teary eyes glancing towards the woman in hopes of mercy being shown. But you didn’t even know if you truly wanted mercy, you just wanted her.
She was meant to be your enemy, the one you’d capture and turn in for your boss's approval, but it didn’t end the way you expected. Instead, you laid on a slightly hardened bed, your back beginning to ache with every thrust - but she didn’t care, she enjoyed this.
“Fucking slut. You like this, hm? You like Daddy fucking this tight cunt?” Her hands tightened on your hips that were raised to meet her liking, it had been like this for what felt like hours.
You knew there was a slim chance of even spotting her, not to mention taking her in as a prisoner. She was a highly trained assassin, the best of the best, you had no chance of coming close. Fury practically set you up for failure, and now you were stuck as her slave.
“Fuck, I’m- I’m close, baby.” This was her third orgasm in the last twenty-two minutes, and you wondered how that was even possible. Either way, you accepted the shots of cum that she let seep into your womb. The strap was designed with tech to release artificial cum, but you began wondering if it was even fake. If she had gotten this, stating she has been waiting to use it on you, who knows if she adjusted the settings or not? It would be difficult to do so, yet she could do anything she set her mind to, she was just that good.
“Gonna be such a good girl for your Daddy, yeah? You wanna be a good slut for me?” You nodded, your breasts bouncing with each thrust. She slapped them, gripping onto your left mound and tweaking the sore nipple. You bit your lip, nearly crying from the sensation.
“Can’t wait for these to leak milk for me. Fuck, I just know you’ll taste so fucking good.” She pressed her hungry lips to the hard bud, moaning as she imagined the sweet liquid. This didn’t distract her, though. No, she continued to let her pelvis bone slap against yours painfully. The room was filled with the sound of cheeks clapping together and reeked of sweat and sex. It was like a taunt, as if the air wanted to show you how humiliating and disgusting you were.
“P-please, Nat, I need to cum…so- bad!” Your nails raked down her back, clawing at the skin as she hissed in pain. Blood began to drip, and she only hummed in delight.
“Soon, baby girl, Daddy gets to cum first.” She already had multiple times, but that didn’t stop her. She wanted to make you suffer, it brought her enjoyment.
“I can’t h-hold on-“
“Yes, you can.” She retorted in a rough manner. You couldn’t listen to her anymore, you needed to finish. It was becoming unbearable, you couldn’t control yourself.
“Did- did you just-“ Came her voice after a few moments. You debated on how to get away with it, but you knew the punishment would be worse. But you didn’t care, you needed this more than she could imagine.
“I- I’m sorry, Nat-“ A slap came to your face, causing your skin to start reddening.
“You don’t get to call me that. You’re such an ungrateful fucking whore, can’t even wait till I give permission.” You sniffled quietly, and she only groaned in response.
“I’m gonna fuck this pretty little pussy ‘till I’m satisfied, you got that? And then maybe I’ll consider letting you cum. But for now, you’re my bitch and you’re gonna fucking act like it.”
“Yes, Daddy..”
It would be a long night, and you wouldn’t change this for the world.
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kombuuuu · 10 months
Note
Omg I just saw that u write for atsv!! So I was wondering if u could do one with a female reader x hobie where the readers quite reserved to everyone in public (maybe she’d been a spidey longer so she’s lost more people? Idk why she’d be reserved bc I cannot write for shot lmao) and people think she’s super cold but then they like?? Walk in, and she’s like open and warm with Hobie (it doesn’t matter if she’s loud or not) and they kinda just look at the scene in shock like wtf and Pav is sort of smug bc he knew all along and then it comes out that they’re dating?
It Sounds Nice coming from You.
Hobie Brown x Fem!Spidey Reader
“I totally called it.” “Don’t even speak, Pavitr.”
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kisses him cause he my bf (-compulsive liar)
People whispered about you. Spider people and the general public alike. Your city spreading gossip, rumours and misinformation to try and figure out who you were, but that was a Spiderwoman affair, every one of them dealt with it.
But having people same as you talk in hushed tones, glancing at you as you walked past. That’s a new kind of feeling.
The Spider Society didn’t exactly favour you, per se. There was nothing inherently wrong with you either, so no reason to get rid of you. But you were just so silent. No one knew a thing about you.
You mostly kept to yourself around base, never really trying too hard to make friends, you were well known enough not to be questioned. A loyal fighter was what you were recognised for, not your personality, your abilities.
There were still some people that managed to creep their way in though, their hearts so full of love, you didn’t know how to refuse them.
So you conceded. You let them in, and begged to any deity that would listen not to take them from you.
Hobie knew you as someone who could listen. Who understood him rather than challenged his beliefs. Not that he had any, but that was the point.
Your lack of input made him feel accepted in going on tangents of why he thought the way he did. And you just sat, and listened. A kind heart and an open mind.
Which eventually led to him falling for that kind heart. Tripping over his own feet to please your silent self. To get those small smiles or amused huffs out of you.
The occasional time you spoke to him, under hushed breaths and fond tones. God, he couldn’t take it.
The way your accent forms over each and every word, how your voice was akin to honey malt, sweet and addicting. Only giving him small doses, but he was the only one who got those doses. Only him, and you, and the words you spoke or times you listened.
He knows that people thought you were cold, or unloving. And maybe you were at first, maybe he thought you were. But he figured you out fast. Where you couldn’t talk, you could touch. Brushing your hands over his arm to get his attention. Linking your hand through his and dragging him away from people you don’t want to be near, he would smile down at you and follow along like a lost puppy. How your brows would crease a certain way, or nose would scrunch a little when you found distaste in things. He was a fool for you.
Where you lacked in verbal communication, you strived in every other category. So when some Spider-people decided to come to him, urging him for answers about you.
Telling him that he wasn’t sure you even wanted to be here—, Hobie would shut down the conversation quicker than thought to be possible. Giving a simple “She’s just quiet.”, and ditching the moment the words are out of his mouth.
It’d worked—, for a while. Ignoring the demeaning or conspiratorial comments made about you by spider-people a-kind. But eventually it got the better of him. Having him borderline snarl at the people who would talk shit right in front of his, or your, face.
“She’s silent, ain’t she?”
“Yeah. Peter 48 said she was like that ‘cause she killed her parents, made ‘er real quiet.”
“Jesus christ. Wouldn’t surprise me, she’s a freak.”
“Dude—“ One of the two spiders, the first one, turned to Hobie. Spider-senses ringing. Hobie stated back at them, deadpan and unblinking. “Don’t.”
The younger spider paled, quickly trying to backtrack.
“Hey— Hobie. I— Didn’t mean it. Was just repeating what I heard, ykno—“
“Cut it, mate.”
He squeaked, head tilting down in respect, the other spider following.
“Stop spreading shit rumours like ‘at. It ain’t fun when you’re the subject. ‘S it?”
“No.”
“Mm.”
Hobie walked past them smoothly, brushing shoulders with the kid just to scare him a little more. When he was far enough away, he heard them start to whisper to one another. “Fuck man, that was close. He could tell Miguel, and then we’d be out.”
“Jesus..”
He felt rather accomplished that day.
It was days later where you were brought up around him again. He’d been texting you, the upper half of his body hanging from Miguel’s platform, his wicks shifting every time he moved.
Miguel and Lyla were talking amongst themselves, clicking through holograms and sorting things out for potential anomalies.
Jess, Pavitr and Gwen had walked into the room chatting, Pav and Gwen expressing their excitement rather loudly.
He glanced up at them from his phone, you were still typing.
immm gonna b homein ten just be patient >:(
I’m patient 🦑
u werent 2 seconds ago
I don’t subscribe to consistency.
Or this slandering talk
ur consistently lame
also why squid
I’m never lame. Also, he’s cute
hes not real
Don’t do this me
reeeeeal tasty tho
What is wrong with you.
numnnum crunchhhh crrcchhh numnum ( > _ <)
Inhumane.
mmmmmm yummyyyy
He can’t die, he’s immortal
The ‘Texting’ bubble popped up on his screen.
“Hey, Hobie!”
Pavitr was running up to him, looking from his lowered position below the elevated platform.
He slipped further down the platform, slumping slowly as he greeted Pavitr upside down.
“Pav, my guy!”
Pavitr bounced on the balls of his feet, smiling wide at his friend.
“What’chu doing up there?”
His eyes darted to Miguel and Lyla, ending their conversation.
Smirking, he whispered to Hobie, “With the grump.”
Hobie snickered, gaining a disapproving look from Jess.
“Textin’ [Name].”
Just then, the next message from you showed.
immortal ??? how consistent of him to live
He grinned, typing back quickly while Pavitr eyed him knowingly.
He’s a squid, he’s more fluid than anything
ihu
terrivle joke
No, you don’t
And it was great
wtvr >:P
Hobie grabbed the ledge of the platform and swung down, landing softly in front of Pavitr and pocketed his phone.
“Glad ya ‘ere. Those two can’t keep it quiet, aye?” He said, pointing back towards Lyla and Miguel.
“They do argue very often.”
“Nah, Lyla don’t argue, mate. Just the hardass.”
Pavitr snorted and Hobie softly punched his stomach in jest, earning one from Pav to the chest, and starting a round of playful punching. Pavitr laughed as Hobie brought him into a headlock, scrunching his fist over the shorter man’s hair and rubbing it in.
They let up when they heard Lyla teasing Miguel for something again, giggling to each other at his expense.
He threw an arm over his fluffy haired friend and leaned his weight on him. Pav smiled up at him once more, brighter now. Before he could speak, Gwen’s voice echoed through the barren room.
“Same reason as you, I’m guessing.”
Hobie turned his head towards her, dropping himself off Pav and standing up straight again. Smiling at her as she reached him, and went in to hug her briefly. When they disconnected, he spoke again.
“Yeah—, No clue then, mini-punk.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Neither big bad has said nothin’ to me yet.”
“Seriously, are we going to skip over that?”
“Maybe they’re waiting until [Name] is here!” Pavitr chimed in.
“What does mini-punk even mean!”
“Not exactly, Pavitr.”
Jess, who now was standing next to Miguel, spoke.
The trio turned to face the two elder spider-people.
“Huh?”
“We wanted to have a discussion with the three of you—.” Miguel put his hands on his hips, authority that Hobie only saw as a challenge emanating from his figure.
“—Away from [Name], she’s already been consulted.”
Hobies eyes narrowed, the atmosphere in the room suddenly shifting to something a lot less unfriendly, and a lot more cautious.
Jess caught wind of the younger man’s tense stature and shuffled forward a step, not unwilling to intervene.
“Nothing too bad, just—,” He paused for a moment, the dense light from the reflective floors making the contours of his face pop.
Hobie watched with batted breath, posture only slightly relaxing from the statement. The crease in his brows begging to be drawn, yet his pokerface was something to be beat.
“,—Addressing her.. lack of communication.”
A shiver raked down the brit’s body, physically restraining himself from chewing this man out with a rebuttal.
“Wha’ ‘bout it?”
His gruff voice was a stark indicator of his annoyance.
“Well, ignoring the rumours following her—,”
Hobie, the usually rather sensical man, was getting more agitated by the minute.
“,—We’ve noticed a certain independence that she holds. Something not many others do.”
The punk quirked a brow.
“So?” Gwen was the one to talk now.
“That doesn’t seem very serious, ‘f you ask me.” She laughed lightly, trying to lighten the mood. Something Pavitr seemed a tad scared to do. There was a lot of competition in the air right now, he wasn’t very competitive.
“Exactly, it’s not.”
Jess cut in, seeing how terribly Miguel started this conversation made her cringe.
“It’s not—, but,” She shook her head, hair falling prettily with every move. “,Her ‘independence’, has been more akin to ‘lack of teamwork’. In some cases.”
Gwen started to speak again, her eyebrows furrowed, just as Hobies now were. He was right about brewing with offence.
“So!—,” Jess cut her off before she could begin.
“So there’s no need for her to have distractions anymore. From now on, she will not be going on team missions. Just solo’s.”
“Wha—! You’re cutting her off?!”
“Gwen, it’s not like that.”
“Like hell it isnt! She’s a part of us!”
“Doesn’t this mean she’s going to be in more danger?” Pavitr spoke up, concerned.
“No— well, not unless—,”
“Unless!? You’ve gotta’ be kidding!” Gwen choked out.
“And what does ‘consulted’ mean! Did she agree to this?!—“
They continued to argue, Gwen and Pavitr advocating for your teamwork skills while Miguel and Jess had made up their mind.
“No communication,” He pinched the bridge of his nose “,Fuck off.” Hobie scoffed under his breath, turning to leave and storming out.
The voices of Miguel, Jess and his friends following him through the portal to you.
“You agreed to this?”
lIts not like they’re wrong, I just hold you all back.”
He huffed, exasperated. Not only were you putting yourself in danger, you were doing it alone. And letting some guy who has a borderline vendetta against teens be the call for it.
“Now, you know that’s not tr—“
His stern voice was cut off by the frown on your face quivering. A due sign of you nearing to cry.
“Oh, shit— C’mon dollface, c’mere.”
He sat down on your shared bed, scooting against the headboard and bringing you into his lap. A soothing hand ran over your back as you tried to reel in your embarrassment.
“I really didn’t mean to agree.”
Hobie sighed, pushing your head into his neck and watching how the rings adorning his fingers rose goosebumps in their path. “I know, sweet’eart.”
And he did know, the moment that it had been a meeting addressed solely with just Jess and Miguel, he knew that Peter had been excluded for a reason. That Miles had been sent after an anomaly as an unknowing distraction for Peter to chase after. He knew those two intimidated you. And the fear of parental disappointment was something they used on you—, young, sweet you. That only ever got hurt because she didn’t want her problems to hurt others, or herself.
You had opened up to him once. Told him what everyone twisted when they whispered sickening words. A story unlike the rumours crowding your reputation.
How no, you hadn’t killed your parents, or siblings, or whatever messed up thing people claimed of you.
You told him how you hadn’t been bitten yet. How, when your family was killed, you hadn’t had any powers. So you couldn’t save them. And it wasn’t even canon. Nothing could’ve stopped them from dying, but it didn’t have to happen. And that was the guilt that weighed on you. How no matter the hardships your parents put you through, a kid neglected of attention. You still would rather die a million times for them to live once.
And it’s all “would”, and never “can”.
Other spider-people don’t have to live with the fact their parents died for nothing. Was what you said. A messed up thought, no doubt. And one you felt guilty for. But the sole continuer of this sorrow-filled silence. Which has worked well enough to protect you so far, why is Hobie one to break that?
Because you love him, you guess.
His hands slid further down your back, resting on the curve of your waist in his lap.
His breathing soothed yours. The shuddering breaths you had been giving to stop your tears, also stopped.
“You wanna talk about your day instead, luv?”
“Yeah, thank you Hobie.”
“Love when you say my name, Babydoll. So pretty and sweet like that.”
Wrapping your hands around his lithe waist, you hummed. Beginning your recount of the day in the honeyed, reserved tone you’d always held.
Around half an hour had passed with Gwen arguing against Miguel before Peter showed up, Moles in tow.
“What’s all this about?” His slippers flopped when he walked and the baby carrier strapped to his chest shifted every time a sleeping MayDay squirmed to get comfortable.
“This—, This asshole!”
“Gwen.” Jess chastised her.
Gwen ignored it, pointing at Miguel accusingly. “—Kicked [Name] off the team!”
“Not kicked.”
“You said she wasn’t going with us anymore.”
Miles looked offended by the prospect. “Why?”
“She’s not kicked, she’s simply better off solo.”
“Oh, so it’s our fault then!”
“Gwendolyne.”
“All of you, stop.”
Peters voice ended the bickering, having learnt since fatherhood exactly how to use said voice. “We are not sending an 18 year old on solo mission against anomalies.”
“Since when did you have a say—“
“Miguel. You’re an idiot if you think i’m going to let that happen. That’s a kid.”
“She’s an adult.”
“When it’s convenient to you.”
Miguel pinched his nose bridge, growling under his breath. Jess spared a glance at him before wincing and backing down from the conversation.
“She doesn’t talk to people.”
“I’m sure she does, just not to you.” Gwen cut in.
“Yeah, her and Hobie talk a lot.” Miles prepped up on his toes. Pavitr smiled and hummed an agreement.
“Not that I’ve seen.”
Peter gave him another disapproving look. “Disregarding that. The fact you decided to not consult me on this decision is another reason that it’s not happening.”
“Consult? Like some council, please.” Miguel scoffed at him, rolling his eyes and turning to open a holographic tab.
“Yes, like some council. Someone’s gotta be the brains ‘round here.” The father joked, coddling MayDay as she cooed.
“I’m going to go inform [Name] the retraction of this decision.”
“Don’t you dare.”
“Oops too late, portals open.”
“Can I come with?” Miles jogged after Peter, hopping quickly through the portal, Peter, Gwen and Pavitr following. Not without Gwen flipping Miguel off as she went. “We’ll sort something out, she can go duos with Hobie.” Jess put a hand on his shoulder, watching as he stared off to where the portal had previously been with a sided expression before sighing.
“Yeah..”
“That went great.” Lyla dragged, popping up on Miguel’s shoulder.
“I’m a second away from shutting you off.”
The AI blew a raspberry at her companion, and disappeared.
He had went off on a tangent about some movie he saw, or song he’d heard. Hobie honestly couldn’t remember, he was too focused on you. The way your voice sounded, how open you were being with him when every now and then you would respond to him. The hearts in his eyes were probably from how heavy his own was beating. Staring at you like a sinner to a prophet.
You had moved down from his lap, now curled against his side, head leaning on his shoulder and hand resting on his chest. At some point, the movie you had been watching before Hobie showed up was unpaused, and serving as background noise for his quiet rambling.
Both of you pressed under a blanket to beat the cold, and the darkness outside your window being killed off by the lights strung across your room. He doesn’t think he’s ever felt this cozy, this utterly comfortable.
Sparks of colour strung out of nowhere, neither of them really seeing it at first, up until it spat out Miles. He stumbled forward a little and went to greet you before taking on the scene. You and Hobie cuddled up on a bed, blanket wrapped around you both, fire going, people singing. He was exaggerating the last parts, but it felt necessary for something so unexpected.
“Hey—, guys.” The awkward teen managed, before Peter walked through the portal with the other two in tow.
“Woah, no mean to interrupt.”
Peter put his hands up in surrender. Hobie snorted, it wasn’t like you were incapable of affection, It just seems he was the only one who got it.
“I totally called it.”
“Don’t even speak, Pavitr.”
He pouted, before giggling and waltzing over to sit next to the both of you. Flopping down on the bed and turning to watch the TV.
“Oh my god, I love this movie!”
“Favourite character?” You inquired. A collective raise of eyebrows was shown throughout the room.
Gwen shuffling over to sit down as well, a baffled look on her face.
“The horse.”
“Pff- Max?” Hobie snorted at Pav. Giving the still rather confused Miles - Peter duo a reassuring smile. And greeting Gwen with a fist bump, she smiled wearily at him before her smirk filled out and she punched his arm in congrats.
Pavitr nodded and laughed, gasping excitedly when the scene on the lake showed up. “Perfect timing.”
You glanced up at Hobie, Miles and Peter finding somewhere to sit as well, talking quietly amongst themselves.
He smiled at you, bringing you in closer while Pavitr sat smug.
The air of confusion slowly dissipated into something accepting, none but Pavitr had really expected you to be so.. Open. But they came to find they didn’t exactly mind it.
Everyone had left by now, the knowledge that you didn’t have to go on dangerous missions alone anymore leaving Hobie satisfied and you comforted.
“You doin’ right, babe?”
“Yeah, Hobes.”
You gripped his shirt a tad tighter and yawned, eyes drifting more shut as the minutes ticked down. “Wanna go t’ bed?”
“We’re in bed, dummy.”
He shot you a playful look.
“Don’ ge’ smart with me, young lady.”
You smiled at him before he made the decision to shuffle you both down in bed to get comfortable, switching off the lights by the outlet. He moved back to you, letting his whole body rest near yours, and letting you initiate any contact wanted.
A leg wrapped around his, and your arm still picking the fabric of his shirt.
“Sleep, sweethear’.”
“Mhmmph.”
Hobies breathe lulled you to sleep, white noise against your racing thoughts. He watched you fall, your trust in him to keep you safe was enough to make a man weak. He smiled, looking out your shared window at the city life below.
No crime, no anomaly or misshaped villain could possibly drag him away from you.
BAMBAMBAM 🦑‼️
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gh0stsp1d3r · 4 months
Note
Ooo can I please request a Wonka x fem!reader where she’s his wife and she gets trapped in the laundry mat as well and Willy is really upset and feeling like an awful husband because they don’t have a lot of money and now are also stuck captive🥺 Y/n reassuring him that they’ll get through this and that she’s just happy that they’re together 🥺 They’ve been together for years, and Y/n has been by his side through all of the adventures with getting all his chocolate ingredients and making chocolate, and she’ll always stay by her SWEET husband’s side 🥹
Also I LOVE YOU
oh m gee I love this idea AND I LOVE u!! my reqs r open for wonka now (;
𝒯𝓇𝒶𝓅𝓅ℯ𝒹
𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
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“Willy.” You groaned out when your head hit the bottom of the chute. He said your name, looking at you and quickly grabbing your hand.
You both then looked in front of you guys, at the others. They introduced themselves, but he wasn't having any of it. He got up and you both quickly tried to find an exit.
"There's a dog over there-" someone said, but it was too late when you realized, and the dog barked, so you backed away.
He was frustrated with himself- In his mind, it was his fault. He felt like a terrible husband when he looked at your face full of confusion. You were trapped.
You both listened and watched as they explained what you both would be doing- for God knows how long. You noticed his unusual behavior and quietness. And at the end of the day, you stood in his room with him.
"Willy, what’s wrong?”you interrupted his thoughts.
"I'm sorry. I'm... so sorry," he said, his voice barely audible.
“It's not your fault, willy.”
“It is. I should've known something was wrong."
“You shouldn't blame yourself, Willy. You couldn't have read it. You couldn’t have known.”
He sighed and sat down on the bed. You sat down next to him, and he turned to you, taking your hand in his.
"All I've ever wanted since I married you was to make you happy. You've been with me every step of the way. I love you, so much. And now, we're stuck in the basement of a hag all because I wasn't careful. You are the best thing to ever happen in my life. You deserve better.”
You laughed at the last sentence. "I'm happy. I'm happy anywhere I am as long as it's with you. I love you, and I promise you we'll get through this. When we get out of here, we'll start the best chocolate business anyone's ever seen." you said, he looked at you with a small smile on his face as you talked.
His eyes were full of adoration, with a twinkle of hope as he listened to your words. He leaned in and closed his eyes, hands moving to cup your face.
"I love you." he said once more, his words a promise of a better future.
2K notes · View notes
amentomensmut · 5 months
Text
first time for everything
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Drug dealer! Mike Schmidt x fem!reader      wc: 4.2k
read part 2 here!
Summary: You’re a good girl. You’ve never been arrested, you don't drink alcohol, and you certainly don't smoke weed. So why were you standing on Mike Schmidt’s doorstep about to buy the very thing you swore you wouldn’t?
Warnings: 18+ content, sorta implied age gap (reader is in college, mike is like the age he was in the movie so like 28-30ish?), cannabis use, shotgunning, dirty messy sex, praise, degradation, spit, grinding, fingering (f rec), handjob, unprotected sex
Authors note: guys i am SO HAPPY with how this fic turned out, and I really hope u guys like it too!! this fic ended up being my longest so far LOL, i got carried away but i LOVED writing the dialogue in this one
You’re a good girl.
You’ve never been arrested, you don't drink alcohol, and you certainly don't smoke weed.
So why were you standing on Mike Schmidt’s doorstep about to buy the very thing you swore you wouldn’t?
—-------------------
“Y/n, it’s seriously no big deal, okay? My dealer’s name is Mike, he’s cool! Just hand him the money and he’ll give you the weed. Simple.” Your friend Sara says as she throws on her work uniform. You furrow your eyebrows at her words, crossing your arms over your chest.
“Sara, I’m not fucking buying weed for you.” You say incredulously, leaning against a wall in your dorm room. Once Sara’s shirt is pulled over her head, she gives you an insulted look.
“It’s not just for me, it's for us! You need to live a little more, Y/n. You haven’t even been to a party on campus yet and it's our third year.” Sara says, emphasising her words with her hands. She brushes her hair, throwing it up into a quick ponytail to make a flat foundation for her ‘Burger King’ cap to lay on top of. 
“Well, that’s because I’m studying. I have a job too!” You say with a roll of your eyes. Of course it’s easy for Sara to judge, she’s always been very extroverted. Sara’s the type of girl who’s well loved by everyone on campus, and goes to a party almost every weekend. You can’t blame her. If you were as outgoing and charismatic as she is, you’d follow in her footsteps. However, you’re not, and making friends and being invited to parties hasn’t been an easy feat for you. 
You and Sara have been roommates since your first year, and although you haven’t always seen eye to eye, you love her. She’s truly one of your only friends on campus, and even though you know it's pathetic, you think you’d be completely friendless if it weren’t for her. She’s the reason you’ve met most of your friends over your time at college, and although you get annoyed at her, you’re thankful for the times she's pushed you out of your shell enough to have some sort of social life. That being said, buying weed for her is where you draw the line. At least, you think it is.
“I study and work too, but I'm not a total hermit.” Sara exclaims. You scoff and cross the room to sit on your bed. You give Sara a defeated look and she lets out a soft laugh, joining you on the bed. 
“Okay, I'll take that back. I don’t think you’re a hermit.” Sara says with a soft smile. She places a caring hand on your back.
“I just think you need to get out a little more, you know? Make some memories, fuck a hot guy, get shit-faced, whatever!” She continues with a laugh. You laugh along with her, and you know she's right. You are a hermit, and it wouldn’t kill you to break out of your shell a little. Even if that means buying weed for your very persistent friend. 
“So, why do you need me to buy you weed?” You inquire.
“Because, I’m going to work. Duh.” Sara says, motioning to her ‘Burger King’ uniform. “And I promised my dealer I’d pick my stuff up today. Apparently afternoons are better for him now because he got some weird job working nights.” She continues and you bite the inside of your cheek. Sara notices your apprehension and she grabs your hand. 
“Listen, don’t think of it as buying weed. Just…think of it as doing a favour for your friend.” She says softly, ducking her head to meet your gaze that is currently fixed on the floor. It’s just weed, you think. Not cocaine, or something like that. 
“And your um, dealer? He’s nice?” You ask, wiping your palms on your jean clad thighs. 
“Yeah, I told you. He’s cool. Dealing is, like, a side thing for him. To make enough money to support his little sister.” Sara says, getting off of the bed to collect her things. She swings her backpack over her shoulder and starts towards the exit of your dorm.
You’re not totally convinced, and you’re also not sure how buying weed for Sara will make you less of a “hermit,” but with a long, dramatic, sigh you nod your head. 
“What’s his address?”
—-----------------------------------
The gust of the cold December wind that hits your face when you exit the city bus makes you recoil into your hood, and with an annoyed huff you set the hair that stuck to your lipgloss from the breeze back into place. 
Mike Schmidt’s place wasn’t far, only a 10 minute bus ride away. However, that was plenty enough time for you to almost completely think yourself out of going. You walk to the address that Sara texted you, the sound of snow crunching under your feet somewhat interrupting your racing thoughts. “Just hand him the money, and he’ll give you the weed.” Sara’s voice replays in your head, and the butterflies in your stomach aren’t sure if her voice is comforting or not.
Mike Schmidt’s house wasn’t one to gawk at, at least from the outside. You start the trek from the end of the driveway to his front door and you wonder how many times Sara has done this before. 
You reach the front door and your cold, dry knuckles rap on it. The cold air makes knocking on the wood hurt more than usual, and you rub your knuckles softly. You hear heavy footsteps making their way from the back of the house to the door, and you let out a big breath. The door opens and you scan the man in front of you. He’s…not what you had expected him to look like. In your naive mind, you had pictured a big, burly man, covered head to toe in tattoos. But, this man looked like he had just woken up, his eyes still adjusting to the light outside. His curly brown hair was slightly dishevelled and he laced a hand through it, attempting to make it look more presentable.
“Can I help you?” His voice comes out slightly gruff, and he clears it softly. 
“Are you the…the drug guy?” You ask in a low whisper, like the title ‘drug guy’ is akin to the name ‘Voldemort’ in ‘Harry Potter.’
“Depends on who you’re asking.” Mike says, leaning against his front door. He gives you a once over with a little smirk and you cross your arms over your chest. 
“I’m asking you.” You say, and it comes out a little harsh, your teeth chattering from the cold. 
“Do you want me to be?” Mike says, and you narrow your eyes at him. His smirk widens and you bite the inside of your cheek, he’s enjoying this. Sara said this would be easy.
“I’m here for Sara.” You say, and Mike nods his head, a soft hum tumbling out of his closed lips.
“Oh, so you’re her druggie friend?” Mike says with a little mischievous smile, although his teasing is lost on you and your jaw drops open in shock.
“What? I, wha-, no!” You stammer and Mike lets out a laugh that makes the corners of his eyes crinkle.
“I’m joking. Come in, you’re freezing.” He says, noting the way you’re shivering on his front door step. He pushes himself off the door frame and motions for you to follow him inside. You hesitantly follow him inside, but your frosty fingers thank you for the new found warmth of his house. 
“Do you want something to drink?” Mike asks, leading you towards the kitchen, you following behind him. You shake your head no, even though he can’t see you.
“I won’t be staying long.” You say bluntly, and even though you can’t see Mike’s face, you swear you can picture the little smile that forms on it with your words. You sit down at the dining table, watching as Mike reaches into the fridge, grabbing a can of soda. The dining table is covered with unopened envelopes and you try your best not to snoop while Mike is in the kitchen. You look up as Mike exits the kitchen with an extra soda in hand, placing it in front of you. 
“Just in case you change your mind.” He says and a small “thank you” leaves your lips. 
“I’ll be right back, okay?” Mike continues, and you slowly nod your head, watching as he makes his way down the hallway and towards the back of the house. You half pay attention to the turned on television in the living room from your spot at the dining table, partly watching some sitcom that’s been left on while you wait for Mike to return. The house smells like weed and spicy cologne and your leg bounces up and down rapidly as you listen to the sounds of Mike’s footsteps coming back.
“Here.” He says simply, tossing the baggy of weed onto the dining table in front of you. You look down at it, and you crinkle your eyebrows in confusion.
“This is it?” You ask, your eyebrows raised as you hold the baggy between your pointer and middle finger. Mike looks at you with his arms crossed over his chest and that stupid smirk that seems to be permanently painted on his face. 
“This is an eighth.” He answers, like you’re supposed to know what that means.
“It doesn’t look like much.” You mumble, reaching into your pocket to fish out the $40 that Sara gave you. 
“Well, you can always come back if you’d like more.” Mike says in a sickly sweet tone, and now you know he’s teasing you. You roll your eyes and you get up from your chair, holding the dollar bills in your hand.
“Is $40 enough?” You question, and Mike nods his head. He holds his hand out and you place the money in his palm. You turn to leave and you hear Mike’s voice behind you.
“Enjoy.” He says, and you can’t help yourself from turning back around.
“And just for the record, I’ve never smoked weed. So-, so don’t think this is for me. Cause’ it isn’t.” You say, and you wonder why you feel the need to explain yourself to this man that you met only fifteen minutes ago. Your eyes squint at the man as he lets out a laugh at your words.
“Trust me, I know.” He says, and you watch as he takes a sip of his soda, never breaking eye contact with you.
“How? I’m literally buying weed from you.” You say, your tone somewhat annoyed. Does everyone think you’re a buzzkill? A hermit? Is it written permanently on your forehead in big, bold, marker that you’re a ‘drag’ for everyone to see?
“I can just tell. You don’t seem like the type.” Mike says with a sort of shrug. You stand there with what can only be described as a defeated look on your face as Mike makes his way over to the living room. He sits on the couch, changing the channel to some sports game. It’s silent for a moment, save for the sound coming from the tv, and you stand in the front corridor motionless as you have a mental battle over what you decide to say next. 
“...Can you show me?” 
You watch as Mike turns his head, looking back at you from the couch. 
“You want to get high?” He asks, and he sounds genuinely surprised. You walk over to the couch, moving to stand in front of Mike. He looks up at you with a quizzical look on his face, his eyes dancing around from your lips, to your eyes and nose. You nod your head and you watch as he swallows slowly, drumming his fingers on his knee. 
“I want to try.” You say, and you’re not sure where this new found confidence has come from, but you’re not going to back down now. Maybe when you get back to your dorm and smoke with Sara, you can surprise her by showing her it isn’t your first time getting high. 
“Alright.” Mike says, putting both of his hands on his knees and pushing himself off of the couch. You watch him walk over to a console table in the living room, pulling out a little baggy of pre-rolled joints. He grabs a joint and a lighter and walks back over to the couch, patting the spot beside him, motioning for you to sit. 
“Have you ever smoked at all before? Like, a cigarette or something?” Mike asks softly and you shake your head. You were never really interested in smoking or getting high, even when your friends had started to do those things. You’re not really sure where that interest is coming from now, although you feel a strange need to change Mike’s impression of you. To be the opposite of what he expects. To impress him.
“Okay so, the first few hits might burn a little. And you’re probably going to cough so it’s a good thing I got you that soda.” He says, walking over to the dining table to grab the soda that you left unopened, and handing it to you as he sits back down on the couch. You watch as Mike fiddles with the joint between his fingers and you look up at him.
“Is there any way to make it burn less?” You ask genuinely, and Mike smiles at you, relaxing back on the couch and slightly spreading his legs. 
“I mean, there is. But I’m not sure if you’d want to try it.” Mike says, resting his head against the back of the couch and looking over at you. You look over at the joint resting between Mike fingers and back to Mike. 
“Let’s do it.” You say with almost no hesitation. 
“Alright.” Mike says nonchalantly. “It’s called shotgunning. I’m going to take a hit, and then blow the smoke into your mouth. So you have to be ready for me, okay?” He continues, putting the joint between his lips and lighting it. You watch as he inhales the smoke and then blows it back out, the smoke exiting his body through his mouth and nose. He licks his lips and looks back over to you for confirmation. “Okay?”
“Okay.” You say with a nervous laugh that you try to play off. Mike takes another hit, and you watch as his chest rises with the smoke entering his mouth and lungs. All of a sudden, he’s grabbing your jaw with his hand and bringing you towards him. He opens your mouth with his thumb tugging at your lower lip and chin, and he’s blowing the smoke into your mouth. He’s so close, and this feels so intimate in a way that you try not to think about.
“Told you to be ready for me.” He mumbles as he pulls away from you, his thumb and forefinger still resting on your chin. You inhale the smoke, coughing a little but not nearly as bad as if you have taken a direct hit from the joint. The weed doesn’t taste great, and you crack open your soda to wash the taste and your semi dry throat down. 
“Well, you could’ve given me, like, a countdown or something.” You mutter and Mike gives a genuine laugh at that. He shakes his head at you, and you’re not sure if it’s the weed already starting to hit but you but you stare a little too long at the way his lips turn into that charming smile. 
“I can’t give you a countdown if I have smoke in my mouth, smartass.” You roll your eyes at his words but you can’t help the smile that creeps onto your face. You shuffle a little closer to Mike, your knee hitting his. 
“Well, whatever. Can we go again?” You ask, looking up at him. He nods with a hum, putting the joint to his lips and inhaling. You’re ready this time, lips parted as you watch the way his eyes flutter as the smoke fills his mouth. He turns to you, once again grabbing your jaw, and blowing the smoke into your mouth. His lips brush your own and before you can stop it, you let out a soft moan. Mike pulls away from you slightly, looking at you with a lazy smirk. He moves his hand from your jaw to your cheek, rubbing slow circles into the skin with his thumb.
“Someone’s enjoying this, aren’t they?” Mike says, his tone sweet but you know that he’s mocking you. His eyes bore into yours and you can’t find it in yourself to look at him, your eyes fixating on your lap. 
“Look at me.” He says, and you do. 
“Do you want to try one more time?” He asks, and you nod. Like the last two times, he takes a hit, bringing his mouth close to yours once the smoke invades his mouth. However, as he’s blowing the smoke into your mouth, he only seems to get closer with every passing second. His lips brush against yours hesitantly but you respond by leaning closer into him. The gap is closed and his lips are soft, and the room is spinning. You know the weed is probably a contributing factor but, god, this feels so good. 
Mike cups your face in his hands, cradling you like a piece of fine china. He bites your bottom lip, causing you to part your lips so he can slip his tongue inside your mouth. The kiss is needy and wet, but you don’t care. The only thing you can think about is how good his tongue feels caressing your own, and how the hand that was once on your jaw, is slowly trailing up your thigh. 
Mike pulls you onto his lap, pressing you down onto him and you let out a gentle whine. He breaks the kiss to look at you and your eyes divert to the place where both your laps are connected. 
“Don’t get shy on me, baby. C’mon look at me.” Mike says. You look up at him, starry eyed, and his gentle eyes are already on you. His hair is messy, his lips are swollen, and he definitely looks high. 
“There you go.” He says, praising you. “This okay?” 
“Yes. I want more.” You whimper, your hips softly grinding down on Mike. The weed is heightening all your senses, and your pussy is throbbing. You can’t think of anything else right now except reliving the ache between your thighs, and Mike looks more than happy to do that for you. He bucks his hips up as you grind on him, and you can feel his erection through his sweatpants. His hands have a strong hold on your hips, pulling you down onto him. 
“Mike, fuck.” You choke out. You two are grinding on each other like a pair of horny teenagers, but neither of you care. You two kiss each other messily, and when you pull away, a string of spit connects your lips. 
“Take off your jeans.” He simply says, and you couldn’t be happier to oblige. You wriggle off his lap, standing in front of Mike to take your jeans off. You can feel his heavy-lidded gaze on you with every one of your movements, and as soon as your jeans are off, he’s pulling you back onto his lap. 
His calloused hands are everywhere. On your hips, your ass, your inner thighs. He presses sweet kisses on your neck, sucking and licking on the places you’re the most responsive to. Your hands are in his hair, pulling and tugging at it, making him groan. 
“Can I touch you?” Mike asks, and you let out a quick “please.”
One of his hands trails up your inner thigh, reaching the wet spot on your panties. 
“Christ, you’re soaked.” He says, and you let out a shaky breath as he starts to rub you over your panties. You buck your hips into his fingers, silently begging for more. He pulls your underwear to the side, running his middle and ring finger up your wet cunt. His fingers find your clit immediately, rubbing lazy circles. You reach down to palm Mike's bulge through his sweatpants and in response, he sinks two fingers inside of you. 
“Fuck, you’re taking it so well.” He moans, pumping his fingers in and out of you. You clench around him, and the television in the background is now being drowned out by the sound of your pussy squelching around Mike’s thick fingers. The palm of his hand hits your swollen clit perfectly every time he moves his fingers in you, and you rest your head on Mike’s shoulder. 
“You know, you act all innocent, but you’re not really a good girl, are you?” Mike grunts in your ear. He adds a third finger and your legs clench around his hand from the stimulation. Your hand has now ventured inside his sweats and boxers, and you pull his dick out from the confines of his clothes. His cock is so hard, with pre cum steadily leaking from the tip. You spit in your hand and then bring it back to his dick, stroking him from the base to the tip. You massage his tip with your thumb and Mike lets out a whine.
“Y-you know what I think? I think you’re a- fuck, I think you’re a slut whose finally getting the attention she needs.” Mike grits out, and with his fingers curling in and out of you reaching a spot your own fingers have never been able to reach, you think you’d agree to anything he says. 
“Mike, I think I’m gonna-” You start to say, your legs shaking from your oncoming orgasm. But as soon as the words leave your lips, Mike removes his fingers from you.
“I wanna feel you cum around me, okay? Can you do that?” Mike says softly, and you eagerly agree. With your panties pulled to the side, Mike teases you with his dick, rubbing it up and down your pussy. He catches it on your clit every so often, making you jolt. Mike’s cock is glistening with a mix of your wetness and his own, and you decided to take matters into your own hands, grabbing Mike’s dick and guiding it into your pussy. You both moan out simultaneously, and the feeling of being full again makes you throw your head back in ecstasy. 
Mike lifts you up, so the tip of his cock is barely in you, before slamming you back down onto him. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, and you watch as the muscles in Mike’s arms flex everytime he lifts you up and slams you back down. His cock is reaching so deep, and being high only makes it feel that much better. 
“Fuck, your pussy is fucking perfect.” Mike whines, and he drops his head, letting some of his spit dribble down to where the two of you are connected. Mike brings his hand down to your puffy clit, rubbing fast circles. You let out a sob, lacing your hands through Mike’s hair and pulling him towards you to kiss him. Your moans are muffled into the kiss, and Mike slaps your ass, making you cry out. 
“C’mon, baby. You wanna be a good girl? Then cum for me.” Mike says, rubbing your clit faster and fucking up into you harder. Your cunt spasms around Mike as you cum, your legs shaking and for a second you swear you can’t feel anything except for the sheer euphoria making it’s way through your body. You drop your head on Mike’s chest as he cums inside you, and his grip on your hips is so tight it would hurt if you weren’t so fucked out right now. 
Mike’s soft voice is what coaxes you out of your bliss, and with his fingers running through your hair you think you could fall asleep right here on his lap with him inside of you. 
“Hey, you’re okay. You were so good, baby, but I need to get you cleaned up.” Mike says sweetly in your ear, and you slowly nod your head. You let Mike take you off of his lap and place you onto the couch, his release running down your legs. You watch as Mike tucks himself back into his pants and walks down the hallway towards the bathroom. You suddenly hear your cell phone ringing, and you reach down from the couch to fish it out of the pocket of your jeans on the floor. 
“Hello?” You say in your dazed state.
“Y/n? Did you get the weed? You were supposed to be back like an hour ago?” You hear Sara say on the other line, her tone laced with worry.
“Um, yeah. I got the weed.” You say, deciding that for now,  you should probably keep it a secret from your best friend that you fucked her dealer. 
taglist: @slutf0rmilfs, @angie-likes-to-art
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awrkive · 5 months
Text
COLD NIGHTS & BLURRED LINES (m) — JJK
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jungkook and you have been in a sexual relationship with each other for four months now, and it’s casual for the most part. but as time passes, you can’t help but feel that some of the lines suddenly got blurred in the process. is it a cliché to blur the lines with your fuck buddy? it definitely is. will you do something about it? both of your emotional constipation have a hard time saying yes.
PAIRING jungkook x (fem) reader
GENRE r18+ (explicit smut, fluff, light angst) MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!
WORD COUNT 26.6k
WARNINGS/MISC fwb!au, college!au, basketball player!jk, kinda secret relationship(?)!au, nerdy!oc but not really she’s just very school-oriented, jk is tatted up here and is very yummy especially in his jersey sighs, hes also rich lol, school journalist!reader, jk calls oc a lot of petnames, basketball stuff im not sure are accurate t-t. multiple sex scenes honestly idek where all of these came from but they include: unprotected sex (this is a fanfiction everything tends to be crazy around these areas don’t do it irl pls omg lol), penetrative sex, creampie, cumplay, car sex, jk’s silver chain hehe, slight cockwarming, oral sex (f and m receiving), jk wears those curvy headbands thing (they look so cute on guys in fact he wore it once), shower sex. if there is anything i left out, pls tell me so that i can add them here. jungkooks visual is jungkook at jitb listening party . 
NOTES if u have been following me you'll know this is a repost haha! i decided to publish this again so you can read it on tumblr if u dont like to read on ao3! also, please pleasssseee send me guys your feedbacks after reading it even a keyboard smash goes a long way anyway ill shut up now i hope you guys enjoy this monster!! last note, pls be gentle with my cn&bl babies <33
[ CN&BL MOODBOARD ] 
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The late March weather has been cold these days, so when Jungkook – in his real fuckboy fashion – texted you that his nose could use a heater and he could offer to warm you up in return, you agreed for him to come over even though you pretended to be disgusted by his offer. 
“Hurry,” you whimper as aforementioned man manhandles you to get you off his lap, making you bounce on the mattress.
Just like that, the warmth from being pressed against his body was gone, exchanged by the cold immediately spreading goosebumps through your skin as Jungkook makes quick work of spreading your legs, eliciting a bit of an uncomfortable feeling from you as you feel your cum leaking out.
Jungkook swipes a hand through his sweaty hairline as he kneels inside your spread legs, and you have to fight a moan at the sight. You still feel a little delirious from when he made you cum the second time just a minute ago, still lightheaded from the high of it. But you can’t deny that he always looks so good in all his natural, naked form; chest heaving, toned stomach coated in sheer sweat, his biceps – especially the tatted one – bulging as he reaches for your hips to pull you down so he could enter you once again.
It tears a cry from your vocal chords, him thrusting in and out of your wet pussy, his pace frantic and inconsistent, a tell-tale sign of his impending orgasm. His grunts, together with your pathetic little moans at the feel of his cock touching every part of your pussy filled the room.
“Fuck, I’m close,” he groans, leaning down, and as a result, reaching deeper into you, mouth reaching for your breast to your mouth. The kiss is a sloppy act of both of you just breathing in each other’s mouths, as Jungkook drills your pussy faster, his fingers tightening around your waist. A particular hard thrust got you drawing out a loud mewl and that’s what tips Jungkook over the edge. “F-fuck – shit, where do I cum baby? Tell me, tell me.”
“Inside– fuck. Please cum inside me,”
He lets out a sharp breath and after a few more erratic strokes, you feel his hot release painting your inner walls.
“Shit,” Jungkook hissed as he fell on top of you. You can feel the way he’s heaving as his skin touches yours, but you let yourself relax on the mattress, breathing shallow breaths.
Since he’s way more athletic than you, he got over it soon and you feel him picking himself up to hover over you, beginning to plant kisses all over your chest and the mole in between them; your nipples, your shoulders, your collarbones.
“Kook,” you call softly, your limp hand patting his ass to get his attention. He always gets so preoccupied with kissing your body after sex.
Jungkook hums, but he looks at you. “Yeah?”
You grunt. “I jwashed my sheets two days ago and I don’t want cum stains on them.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know,” he leans down, and even though you were complaining just now, you let out quite a joyful hum when he kisses you. “Let me see first.”
You don’t need to ask what he’s referring to.
Pushing your body back up, Jungkook takes it upon himself to get his body off of you only to watch as you slide two fingers over your pussy, spreading the lips so he can see the combination of your and his cum all over it.
“You need to hurry, Nayeon is coming home in a few minutes.”
He doesn’t even try to look like he’s concerned about the urgency of that matter, just hums absentmindedly and gets his own finger to run over your exposed heat. You shiver at the contrast of the hot feeling of your pussy and the cold feeling of his finger, but it soon turns into pleasure when he gathers your cum and pushes it back into you.
“Are you going to keep it in for me?” He whispers, a thumb now caressing your hip.
“Depends.”
Jungkook looks back up at you, a sly grin spreading on his lips. “On what?”
“If you’re going to be good and say please when you want something.” You grin at him, feeling pretty proud of yourself for catching him off guard. It doesn’t last long very much though as he smirks, but as soon as he opens his mouth, you hear a series of knocks and your eyes widen at that.
You hissed. “Shit, that’s Nayeon.”
You sit up from the bed. Jungkook mirrors your haste, scrambling to find his clothes on the floor and putting them on quickly. You have your robe just nearby so you put just that on, ignoring the tingling sensation of cum trickling down your legs.
“I have to go.” Jungkook whispers, and you nod, walking towards the window on the far end of the room and opening it up widely.
Like usual, Jungkook steps on the frame and easily hauls himself outside. It’s the backside of the building of your complex, and it’s mostly and usually quiet, so it was pretty safe for him to just go out of there without anyone noticing, and most especially at times like this. Because Nayeon can’t know. No one can.
“I’ll see you later, pretty.”
Jungkook winks at you and you playfully roll your eyes, waving him off which earns a laugh from him. He easily saunters through the perimeter though and you find it quite unfair how he still carries a certain graceful energy to him even though he literally just did an exhausting cardio exercise with you for about thirty minutes. Ugh, him and his athletic body.
Nayeon’s voice can be heard across the flat, but before you let her in, you sprayed an unhealthy amount of air freshener on your body and around the room (just in case she enters) and shoved your discarded clothes from earlier in the laundry basket. After that, you finally run towards the door, welcoming Nayeon with a smile as you open it.
“Hi!” You greet rather cheerfully. She immediately hugs you briefly, groaning as she steps back and enters your little abode.
“Class sucked today,” she throws herself on the couch and you give her a sympathetic smile, walking towards the fridge to get water.
“Well, wish me luck. I’m headed out to one.”
“God, I can’t wait ‘til we graduate, I’m tired of this bullshit.” She says, but she’s opening up her laptop for what you could guess as for finishing up an assigned work. “I wish I was having bomb sex like you. Hey, do you want to go to this party on Friday?”
“I – what?”
“Party on Friday? Finals season for basketball starts on Friday and they’re planning a party. We could use free booze and stress-free night.” Nayeon repeats, but you weren’t asking for the party. You tried to ignore it, but you have the tendency to overexpplain yourself so that you do not get misunderstood.
“I’m not having bomb sex.” You say, and that makes her look at you. At that, you realized you shouldn't have taken the bait. Stupid, stupid, stupid you. You could've swerved this topic if you weren't so quick to react at the word sex.
You stare at each other for a solid few seconds until she rolls her eyes.
“Girl, your hair looks like a bird’s nest and your lips are swollen as hell. I might not be having bomb sex in the current moment but I know what I look like after I do the deed,” She wore her eyeglasses and perched it on her nose. “And you kinda smelled like sex when you opened the door.”
“No!” You feel heat coming and spreading through your cheeks. You thought the damn Febreeze would hold up!
Nayeon waves you off. “It’s fine, it’s not like you haven’t caught me before like that.”
“It’s embarrassing.” You insist, stuffing your face with a bread you took from the counter and purposefully not meeting Nayeon’s gaze so you don’t see the teasing smiles you’re sure she’s sending your way.
“That you’re having sex in college?!” Her playful scandalous tone makes you laugh though and that’s when you look at her.
“No, ugh. Just. Sorry. If I smelled like sex. I tried spraying a lot of air freshener earlier.”
She wiggles her brows. “Oh, is that why you took a long time opening the door? Was your sneaky link here just now?”
“Sneaky what?” You say, laughing.
“Sneaky link. You know, a hook up. Wait, is it a boyfriend? Please say no, because I would be extremely offended if you haven’t introduced your boyfriend to me all this time.”
You could swear you felt goosebumps on your nape when you heard the word boyfriend and saw images of Jungkook in your head immediately, as if you were used to associating him to the word.
“It’s definitely not a boyfriend. Just… someone I hook up with sometimes.”
“Interesting. Do I know him?”
The question makes you nervous. She definitely knows. No one not knows who Jungkook is at your campus.
With a shake of your head, you tell her, straight-faced, “Nope.”
“Okay, which department? Does he go to our Uni?” She asks, now seemingly fully invested in this conversation rather than the assignment before her. You’re happy to be a bit of a help to lessen her sour mood from earlier but you shake your head and let out playful tsk-ing sounds,
“Too many questions, babe,” You teased. “My class is starting in twenty minutes.”
You heard her laughing as you carried your clothes to the bathroom to change and to clean up the mess in your nether region. Damn. Jungkook cums a lot these days… he needs to masturbate or something.
“Fine, fine! You don’t want me to know but I’m gonna find out about the mystery guy one way or another!”
Shutting the door to the bathroom, your face contorts at Nayeon’s words.
Yeah, absolutely not. Jungkook and you made an agreement in the first place that everyone should be oblivious of your situationship, and it’s worked for almost four months now.
You can’t fuck it up now.
As soon as you fixed yourself, you bid your goodbye to Nayeon who went ahead and busied herself by hacking away on her laptop, grabbing your bag and heading out and finally walking to your Uni that was just a few minutes away from your complex. Your apartment is almost like a dorm, to be honest. 
The hallway is a little crowded, but you don’t miss a certain brunette in a familiar gray hoodie you’ve had in your closet before. 
You meet Jungkook’s eyes but you quickly change your gaze to his friend, Taehyung, who’s walking beside him as he greets you cheerfully. 
"Hey, ___!” You return his smile, waving. You had a Philo class with Kim Taehyung at one point and found out that despite your preassumptions about him for being a varsity guy, he was a pretty interesting person to talk with. You’re not super close per se, just acquainted enough to acknowledge each other when you meet somewhere like the campus hallways.
You don’t like the attention it draws, though. So you walk straight to your destination.
Varsity guys tend to be famous, and you’ve chosen to steer yourself away from them. Ironic, though, considering that you’re fucking one. Obviously, you’re not doing a very good job at “steering yourself away from them”.
Maybe it’s the sole reason why it’s a secret. Jungkook is the star player of the basketball team together with Taehyung and a few other guys. You know their usual gist. Famous circle, lavish lifestyle, attractive guys who (unfortunately) know it, skillful at the sports they do, too many people fawning over them. And well… not to be that person but you’re just someone dutifully studying here. Someone in the background. And you love that mostly, but sometimes you think that maybe… it’s why Jungkook seems to never entertain the idea of making your relationship public. Not that you would like that yourself. You took part in the secrecy agreement, suggested it yourself, in fact. You would never admit to anyone you’re fucking him. But, well. It’s just weird. 
Whatever. It doesn’t matter. Someone’s going to end it eventually and you’re gonna make sure it’s you… just so it’s established that you aren’t the one who’s more willing in the relationship. Yeah, that. Just not now. School is stressful. You like sex with him. 
When you arrive at the lecture hall, your phone vibrates. A text from Jungkook is plastered all over your lock screen.
[1:15pm] Jeon: hi pretty [1:15pm] Jeon: nice skirt :) 
You internally roll your eyes. Him and his literal and figurative skirt chaser tendencies.
[1:20pm] You: Hi.
You get a reply immediately.
[1:20pm] Jeon: wanna grab dinner later
You stare at his text, a little taken aback. 
That’s new. Sure, you had grabbed lunch with him at his stupid fancy Benz like, once. After he fucked you in it to ease your nerves about a class presentation you did earlier that day. He didn’t offer, he just bought you Chinese because you passed by a resto as he drove you to your place. 
Anyway. You don’t know why he would do this all of a sudden. You fucked three days ago, then the day after that, then earlier this day. You’re not complaining but you never predicted your sex life would be so active like this. 
[1:22pm] You: Pass. Studying later
Which is true. You have a Tech Writing quiz tomorrow, though not necessarily hard. Whatever. Your thoughts in the hallway awhile ago are making you feel kind of weird about him right now.
[1:23pm] Jeon: boring [1:23pm] You: ):< [1:23pm] Jeon: cute :) do u want me to order boba ill deliver it to ur place after ur class
Well, that is definitely not new. Jungkook delivers you food, like, every single time.
[1:24pm] You: :))) Yess. Thank you [1:24pm] You: I’m going to venmo you [1:25pm] Jeon: lol yk im just gonna venmo it back to u
True. There’s been a lot of back and forth in that app. One time, he “jokingly” sent you a hundred dollars (a hundred dollars!) after you kept on insisting you pay for the takoyaki he made delivered to you, and that horrified you so much that of course you sent the money back to him, but he made you promise to stop trying to argue with him about the payment thing. It doesn’t mean you don’t feel bad about it still though…
[1:25pm] You: 😤😠 [1:27pm] Jeon: do u also want anything besides boba [1:27pm] You: Noppee, I think Nayeon is going to cook something for us later [1:28pm] Jeon: alright [1:28pm] You: Are you sure you don’t want me to pay you back? [1:28pm] Jeon: nahh it’s alright [1:28pm] Jeon: besides I can think of other ways for u to pay me back without money involved.. ;) 
Ah, there he is. He really couldn’t go on a day without sexual innuendos.
[1:29pm] You: You are infuriating and I’m turning off mh phone  [1:29pm] You: *my [1:29pm] Jeon: you like when I annoy you so .. [1:29pm] You: No I don’t and Im so sore i feel like my brain will leak out of my ears from so much sex  [1:29pm] You: Also please stop using ellipsis in texts [1:29pm] Jeon: hmm [1:29pm] Jeon: who said anything about sex? [1:30pm] Jeon: not me🤔 do u think i just think about sex all the time [1:30pm] Jeon: what’s worng with ellipsis…? [1:32pm] You: Yes you do think about sex all the time 
He reacted to that message with the HAHA emoticon, and you felt yourself having a hard time fighting an eyeroll.
[1:32pm] Jeon: you know me so well [1:32pm] You: Also, nothing wrong with ellipsis they just remind me of how my dad texts  [1:32pm] Jeon: ummmmm im sure ur dad is great so im flattered
You snorted at that.
[1:33pm] You: you do NOT know that  [1:33pm] Jeon: i thought you were turning off your phone [1:34pm] You: I am right now so don’t reply prof is walking to the lecture hall now [1:35pm] Jeon: good luck baby ;)
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Nayeon didn’t convince you enough to join her at the party she mentioned before come Friday night. In a weird parallelism, Jungkook also texted you about a party you could come to, and eventually, you’ve come to realize that it was his party. Their party.
Your Uni’s basketball team held a celebratory one because they won the first game of Finals. You only knew when you went to the school’s publication office earlier. The freshman sports journalist, Ryujin, came to you to ask you some questions about her rough draft about said game.
You see, this is one of those times when you are reminded that Jungkook and you really only have a relationship through sex. Sure, you know some stuff about each other. Like how you are an English major, he’s taking Computer Science, you’re the managing director of the school’s publication, he’s a star player in the basketball team; he knows about your favorite takoyaki flavor (it’s smoked bacon) and your boba order, and you know he likes food that you dislike, namely cheese cake and mint chocolate flavored stuff. He also likes Marvel a lot. He knows you’re obsessed with films from the golden age of Hongkong cinema because you mentioned it in passing. (He doesn’t know you particularly love the Wong Kar-wai ones though…)
But somehow, he never really tells you about his basketball games. Sure, he’d mentioned practices before but it’s something he doesn’t bother to include you in. Not that it would matter to you. It’s not like you tell him all about your stuff in school, either.
Your attention is caught by a ping from your phone. 
[12:05am] Jeon: hey you still up? 
The text reads. You type a reply. 
[12:07am] You: Yes, why? [12:07am] Jeon: let’s facetime [12:07am] You: Why [12:08am] Jeon: i want to see your pretty face
Spoken like a true fuckboy. Really?
Before you could respond, his face is taking up your whole screen, asking to facetime you. Without thinking about it too much, you accepted the call, falling back to your bed. 
From the screen, you could see that he’s wearing a black shirt with a long silver chain around his neck. He smiles that adorable smile when you finally make your whole face visible to the camera. 
“What is it?”
The audio from his end is a little distorted, probably from the loud music from where he’s at. That after-game party, most likely. He texted you about it awhile ago. Nayeon is probably there, too. 
“Hi, pretty girl.”
Again with the nickname and the slight way his eyes are hooded as he said it. If you squint enough, maybe you could tell if he’s drunk or not. You’re not sure. But the way that’s his instant words upon seeing you is making you feel a little weird in your stomach. He’s got to stop calling you that. 
“Are you drunk-calling me right now…?" 
He shakes his head and says something, but you don’t hear it, so you informed him so. The screen shows you dark, pixelated images, making you think he’s probably moving his camera around, and you could make out that he’s walking away from the party as the loud music fades out eventually. 
"I’m not drunk.” He says after he settles on a spot. 
“Oh, okay.” You nod. You shifted on your side. “Why did you call me?" 
He laughs at that. "I can’t call you?" 
His laughter intensifies when he sees you roll your eyes. "No. I’m just wondering… aren’t you at a party?" 
Jungkook nods his head. "Yes, but it’s getting boring here." 
"Oh.”
Another beat of silence, but Jungkook is the one to say another word. 
“Hey, do you wanna go out for a drive?" 
Well… that sounds good. You just finished a write-up and did some studying a little earlier and you also planned to order food but forgot about it.
"Sure.”
Jungkook smiles at that.
“I’ve been wanting to show you something. I think you’ll like it." 
Your eyebrow arched at that. This is getting a little too new. He’s driven you around before but it always involved fucking, not done with the intention to show you something. Not that you aren’t expecting sex tonight, though. You would actually appreciate that.
"What is it?" 
You could make out a smirk from Jungkook’s face on the slightly pixelated screen. "I’m going to show you the real me.” The glint of mischief in his tone cracks you up, so you played right into it,
“Ohhh, does it involve dead bodies?" 
He nods with a serious face. "Yes, but you have to promise me you won’t freak out." 
"Yeah, and don’t you freak out if I tell the police about it.” You squint your eyes, trying to give him a scolding look. 
“Ah,” Jungkook leans back. “You would do that, wouldn’t you? You’re always such a good girl." 
It wouldn’t have meant anything if it wasn’t for the way his voice drops, giving you a meaningful look again. You could feel the heat in your cheeks but you shrug it off. 
"I am a good girl, I pride myself for it." 
Jungkook finally laughs this time, finding this conversation hilarious just as you do. "I know, I like it most especially—" 
After all this time, you developed a sort of a Spidey sense for when Jungkook is about to say perverted things, so before he could make such remarks, you cut him off.
"If you’re gonna say something sexual I’m going to end this call.” But even you could tell it was an empty threat.
Jungkook thinks so, too, you know that, but he decides to step back. “I was just going to say that I like it most especially because it does good to the world." 
The mirth in his eyes tells you otherwise. 
"You do not think that.” You say, rolling your eyes. 
He laughs once more, throwing his head back as if you said the funniest joke in the world. Weirdo. 
“Alright, alright. So I’m coming to your place in five minutes to pick you up. How does that sound?" 
"Good. Nayeon’s currently out… just text me if you get here." 
He told you to end the call – which you argued you were just planning to do so and he didn’t need to tell you and it earned a laugh from him, how stubborn you were about such simple things. You just gave him a baleful look.
Just as you pick out a sweatshirt and some sweats in exchange for your pajama dress, you receive a text from Jungkook that he’s arrived and so you grab your wallet and keys and your phone, heading out. 
You spot his car and knock on the passenger’s seat window and Jungkook immediately opens it for you. 
"Hi, gorgeous.” He greets you. “You want to keep the window open?" 
"Hello. Yes, please.” You say, fixing your seat belt. 
He hums and you press on a button to slide the window open. 
“You want to pick up some food?" 
You perked up. "Yeah, I was planning to get some but I was too lazy to order in earlier." 
Jungkook pressed some buttons again you don’t really understand but it got music to start playing, lights in the car moving into the same beat of the tune (his car was really fancy…). Some mellow ones you kind of liked during this drive on a cold night. He saw a food place from around a corner and you both agreed to get food from the shop. 
He parked somewhere for you guys to open up the take-out. There’s some steamed tofu there so you pick it up and start eating. 
"I’ve been obsessed with tofu these days,” you shared absentmindedly, chewing on said food. 
Jungkook looks at the tofu you were eating. “Really? I remember when you said you dislike it." 
"Yeah, but that’s because I cooked it one time and it sucked." 
"I should teach you to cook one of these days…” you refused to acknowledge what that entails and laughed instead.
“You know how?” You said to tease, but you also genuinely can’t believe he knows how.
Jungkook clicks his tongue, a faux offended look on his face, saying, “Why do I always get that reaction? Of course I know how to cook." 
"Huh,” you pondered. “Wouldn’t have expected it from you." 
"Yeah, yeah, I know. But I have this friend who’s a really good cook and I kinda learned through him." 
"That’s cute. Nayeon knows how to cook and I never learned shit from it.” You laugh at your own words, so does Jungkook. “But hey," 
"Hm?" 
"Do you think my boobs got bigger? I think they got bigger.” You put your food down your lap and caress your breasts through your clothes. 
You’ve been thinking about it since last week. Earlier, you saw yourself naked in your mirror and noticed a change in their size. You almost thought you were pregnant but your period literally just ended yesterday. But can that happen with pregnancies? But… you’re very diligent with your pills… so it can’t be. Right? 
You made a mental note to buy a test tomorrow.
“Look the same to me.” Jungkook says, looking at your chest. 
You grab his free hand and put it over a boob. He squeezes it promptly, and you hear an almost dramatic gasp. 
“Oh, they are bigger." 
You remove his hand over you and nod. "Yeah. But I think it’s just due to some hormonal changes. Also I think I’m putting on weight, I’ve been eating a lot these days… but… it’s stupid but I also think my obsession with tofu has something to do with it," 
Jungkook looks over at you curiously. 
"Yeah, they say tofu makes your boobs bigger." You added.
He arches a brow at that. "Really?" 
"Don’t look so excited." 
Jungkook can’t help but huff out a laugh. "I do not!” You roll your eyes. He insists, “I love your boobs the way they are." 
"Geez, thanks." 
You finished your food and Jungkook drove around again. It’s still in the vicinity of your town. The music in his car serves as a lulling noise in the otherwise quiet night. There’s still a lot of cars on the streets, some occasional honking sounds, but you feel really, really nice, most especially when the wind blows a little harsher and it makes your hair go crazy. Jungkook laughs at that too. 
It’s later in the night when Jungkook slowed down somewhere, and soon, he was parking at an abandoned house.
As if on cue, you looked at him and said, "So you really are going to show me your literal skeletons." 
He laughed at that. 
"Nope, sorry to disappoint, princess." 
Jungkook gets out of the car and you follow, immediately shivering at the wind. You wished you wore a hoodie instead of this thin, knitted sweatshirt, but you didn’t expect it would be this cold. It was nearing summer and the weather has been inconsistent for the last month. 
You look at the abandoned house once again. There were wooden planks nailed on the door, plastic covers draped over the windows, and overall, it just looks really old. Kind of creepy, if you were to be honest. 
In your assessment of the house, you don’t notice Jungkook coming to you with two bottles of soju. He brings them up slightly, a grin on his face.
"Drinks?”
“Okay…” you squint your eyes. “Where are we going to do that?" 
He gives you a knowing smirk. "Inside." 
Jungkook went over the fence with ease and you followed his direction but didn’t do the same thing. He looks back at you. "Hey." 
"Are you sure it’s safe?” You ask, looking around, wrapping your arms around your middle because of the cold. 
Jungkook probably notes the genuine concern in your tone, that’s why he sets the soju down and comes forward to you, the fence serving as some kind of dramatic border. 
“Baby, it’s fine. No one comes around here.” He says but you don’t really feel assured just yet. 
“What if someone comes here now? I don’t want to be arrested…" 
"No one’s getting arrested,” Jungkook insists. You still look hesitant. “Come on. Really. I’ve been here lotta times, haven’t ever seen anyone here since then." 
You look at him. He seems to be telling that truth and well, maybe you’re stupid for believing him but he seemed to know this place well and had been going here for a long time and as far as you know, he doesn’t have criminal records, so… 
"Okay, fine.” You give in. 
Jungkook immediately grins. “Nice. Here, let me help you.” He leans forward and takes a hold of your hips as you go over the fence. It’s not that high, really, but you let him carry you over it until you both entered the abandoned property. 
When he puts you down, you tug at his shirt.
“Wait, your car.” you gasp.
“Oh, it’s fine. I parked it at that green house, someone’s just gonna assume it’s theirs.” He says, completely nonchalant about it.
You think he’s being careless about his fucking Benz but whatever. 
Jungkook leads you to the back of the creepy house and the eerie place immediately gives you goosebumps. The cold of the night does not help, either, so you cling to him until he sits on the ground. 
“Jungkook, that’s dirty.” You tell him, trying to tug him up. 
He chuckles. “It’s fine, princess. Come here, I’ll take my jacket off. Sit beside me.” Indeed, he takes off his jacket, and you worry he might be cold with his t-shirt only now but you also really don’t want to sit on the ground… 
“You’re not cold?” You make sure as you sit beside him. Jungkook opens one of the soju and offers it to you. You take it as he opens another one for himself. 
“Nah, it’s fine.” Jungkook starts drinking but even though you have one in your hand, you don’t. He must’ve noticed it as he says, “Hey. Relax.”
“Aside from my fear of getting arrested, it’s also really fucking creepy here.” You retort, scooting closer to him. You got to be honest and admit that you’re more scared of the place than scared of getting arrested. 
Jungkook throws his head back to laugh at that. “Again, we’re not getting arrested. And what do you mean creepy? You don’t like it here?" 
You look around the place more. "Eh, it’s okay. I just can’t help but think what if there are lost souls around here…” you trailed off, giving him a baleful look when that only made him laugh more. They were quiet laughter, though. Probably to not disrupt said souls. 
“You believe those?" 
You roll your eyes. "Okay, cool macho guy." 
"No, no, I’m sorry,” Jungkook still laughs in between his words and you whisked his hand away in an act of lighthearted sulking when it tried to reach you.
Okay. You don’t exactly believe in ghosts but it’s hard not to when it’s in the middle of the night and quiet and cold and you’re in an abandoned house. You avoid horror movies for a valid reason. 
“Alright, let’s cuddle so you don’t get scared.” Jungkook says, but there’s a teasing sound to it.
“Don’t make fun.” You glared at him. 
“I’m serious, come here.” He opens his arms wide and you roll your eyes, not moving to come closer. He laughs when even after seconds passed you still didn’t give in. You thought he was giving up but instead he twisted to your direction and let both his legs crowd you so that you’re in between them. 
“You’re annoying,” you say but you kind of feel oddly comforted by being close to him like that, and Jungkook must’ve known as well because he just gives you a smug smile, chugging on his soju after.
You did the same. You try to throw away your nerves and scary thoughts, letting yourself relax as he said. When you kind of did a moment later, you find that it’s kind of nice, actually. 
“What do you think?” Jungkook suddenly speaks. 
“Hm?" 
"It’s nice here, right?” He arched his brow at you. “Just try not to think about ghosts." 
You pinch his shin through his cargo pants and he gives you a very ingenuine, "Ouch!" 
"Except for the ugly house, it’s nice here.” You reply. As you look up, you see stars scattered across the dark skies. It was quite a view, honestly. Makes you a little surprised because it was so beautiful. You almost missed Jungkook’s words. 
“Yeah. It’s not exactly beautiful here but it’s a great place to think." 
"Think?" 
Jungkook sees your teasing smile and shakes his head. "Yes, baby, I do a lot of those." 
You chuckle at that and drink more of your alcohol.
You don’t exchange more words after that but you find that it wasn’t awkward. It was just… a nice silence. A comfortable one. With Jungkook crowding you with his legs, you feel like you might be the most relaxed you’ve ever been in the past few months. 
You twist yourself so now you’re not facing forward anymore, but to Jungkook. You realize if he’d been looking forward he just had a view of your side profile. You try not to think too much if he just stared at you, although you did feel him do that for a few minutes a while ago. 
"Hey, congrats on the game.” You tell him with a soft smile on your face, placing your drink on the ground. It’s still filled in half. You could finish it but you doubt you wouldn’t be drunk by that time. Your alcohol tolerance is not at all exemplary. 
“Thanks.” Jungkook sheepishly smiles at you. “You watched it?" 
"Ah, no. I just heard about it. I don’t really know anything about basketball so…” you trail off, noting the way he nods at your words. 
“Right. I’ve never seen you watch us before.”
You try to joke, “That’s because you never invite me to any of your games." 
But it looks like that caught him off guard. "I– huh?” The look on his eyes tells you that he was genuinely surprised at your words, those eyes of him looking like a deer’s when it’s caught in the headlights. 
You laugh. “I’m just kidding. I don’t usually watch sports games. Too crowded for my liking." 
Jungkook nodded at that, but he still looked taken aback from your words earlier. You really were just kidding. You hope he didn’t take it seriously. But he agrees with you, anyway. "Yeah, it can get crowded sometimes." 
Silence and then after a few beats, Jungkook speaks again. 
"Hey, let’s make out." 
You arched a brow but didn’t really find any reason to oppose it, so you went ahead and kissed him. 
Jungkook immediately holds your hips. On the other hand, you snake your arms around his neck, kneeling in between his spread legs. The kiss starts slow but he holds the back of your neck and deepens it.
You whimpered when he nudged your legs with his free hand, and your shock made you break away from the kiss. Jungkook took it as an opportunity to start pecking your neck, though, his hand seemingly coaxing you to open your legs. You got the message and finally straddled his waist, Jungkook groaning and you moaning when you feel your crotches connecting at the action.
He was already sporting a semi, and you also feel your panties getting slick from the way he kissed and bit and licked and soothed your neck. 
"Jungkook,” you moaned, searching for his mouth. 
He kissed you again, all tongue and so sloppy, his hand reaching for the hem of your sweatshirt and creeping inside it to find you not wearing a bra. He did think you weren't wearing one when you put his hand on your boob in the car earlier.
“Ah, fuck,” he squeezed your tit in his hand, you whine. “They really are bigger. Can I see them, baby?" 
You nodded, not even giving it a solid thought as Jungkook immediately hiked up your top until your perky breasts were all bare for him to see. 
And devour, eventually.
Jungkook went straight to sucking your boob and squeezing the other to tend to it, massaging it in his huge palm. He licked a nipple and bit at it slightly, making you sigh at his action. Your arms went to his head to fist his hair in your hands. 
His ministrations on your chest encouraged you to roll your hips against his pelvis, and that elicited a grunt from him. Smiling a little at that, you experimented on doing it a little harder, and as a result, Jungkook tugged at your nipple, making you whine a little too loud.
"Behave." 
You pout. "I want to fuck." 
"It’s not so creepy here anymore?” He had the audacity to tease, but his hands were still on your breasts, fondling them. 
“I didn’t say we can fuck here. Just…” you looked around, not really specifically looking for something. 
Now that Jungkook mentioned it again, you get reminded that it really is creepy as fuck here. And you still didn’t trust the ground. There was no way you could stand fucking in this property. And what if something scary happens while you’re in the middle of doing it… 
Just as you were thinking it, a strange sound catches both of your attention.
“I think we should get back in your car.” You decided. 
Probably seeing the flash of fear in your eyes, Jungkook laughs. “Are you thinking of ghosts again?" 
You slap his chest. "No. But I want to cum." 
"So demanding,” he playfully scolds but you just roll your eyes and let your sweatshirt fall to cover you up once again. You immediately cling to him the moment he stands up and help him pick up the soju bottles, anxiously praying you guys hurry up to get out of here. 
“It was just the wind.” Jungkook comforts you once you were on your way to his car. 
As far as you’re concerned, it’s never just the wind. At least those shitty horror movies you and your cousins watched during sleepovers tell you so. 
Jungkook opens the door to the backseat and you go in and he follows after you. 
You immediately straddle him once he’s seated, earning a chuckle from him. 
“Wow, you’re really eager for me to fuck the fear out of you, huh?” He says, sounding smug about the way you reach for the hem of your shirt and removing it from yourself. 
“Hm. Your dirty talk these days have been subpar.” you slide his jacket off of him and he lets you remove his shirt as well, laughing more at your impatience. 
“Can’t think straight when a pretty girl is on my lap." 
Before you could say something about that, he gripped your waist and got you off his lap, manhandling you to lay on the backseat. Your back is against the car door as Jungkook twisted in his seat, hauling himself backwards to pull your sweats down and take off your birkens. Leaning down, Jungkook pressed open-mouthed kisses up your thighs, teasing his mouth on where you need him the most. 
But you didn’t want to feel anything there other than his cock, and you tell him so. 
"Jungkook,” you whine, catching his attention. When he looks up at you, you whine some more, “Just fuck me. I’m so wet already." 
He cursed, caressing the sides of your thighs. "Baby, I need to prep you.”
“There’s no need for that, come on, please. I need your cock." 
Jungkook groans. But then he makes quick work of unzipping his pants, pulling it down with his boxers until his dick is out. It’s plenty hard already, the shiny tip catching your attention. 
You let out another cry at the sight of him gripping his base, pumping it for a few seconds and finally pushing your panties to the side and slipped inside you. True to your words, it was quite an easy slide, but the burn still stings a little bit. His size was on the little above average spectrum and you’ve always found a hard time taking it in smoothly. 
"Oh, god,” you mewl, grasping his bicep while your other hand grips the back seat. 
Jungkook tightened his fingers on your waist, a hand coming up to one of your thighs to wrap it around his middle. You follow his silent command, welcoming the hot kiss he gives you. 
“Should I move now?” He whispers in your mouth, and you nod frantically, throwing your head back with a moan when he does as told. 
His cock was not even pulled out completely before he slipped it in again, slowly, in agonizing deep strokes. Like he wants to feel every corner of your warm hole. 
“So good…” you moaned, tightening your thigh around his body. 
“You like when I fuck you slow, baby?” Jungkook pressed kisses on your chest this time, and you could only nod your head mindlessly as he repeated thrusting out again. 
“I – ah… so good, Kook. I love it," 
The car is cramped and all you could hear are your heavy breaths and the lewd squelching sound of his cock going in and out of your pussy, his chain dangling in between your bodies feels cold when it momentarily touches your chest.
You would tell him to go faster, harder, but the way he was planting fairy kisses on your skin and his tattooed arm popping veins on the side of your head as if he was finding it hard to not fuck you stupid, you found that his deep and precise albeit slow strokes great.
"So pretty,” he says, moving the strands of hair that stuck everywhere on your face. 
“K-kook,” you whimper. 
“Hm? Baby? What is it?” Jungkook looks at you with an uncharacteristically soft gaze, his dick still continuing its slow pace in your cunt. 
“M-my back hurts like this,” you say. 
His eyes look softer at your words, expression gentle. “Sorry, angel.” He caresses your face and kisses you which you welcomed with a sob when his dick hits deeper after he leaned down. “Here, I’ll sit here. Straddle me.” But he doesn’t even wait for you to move as he hauls you to his lap himself, his cock still inside you, feeling it twitching when you sit on it outright. 
“Good girl,” Jungkook squeezes your breasts and laps at them, only to look up at you again. “You okay?" 
You nod, pushing him slightly so that he relaxes his back against the seat. You brace yourself on his chest and begin to bounce on his cock.
Jungkook throws his head back, letting you on your own pace, hands gripping your hips to help you move. 
"So fucking good for me,” he hissed just as when you mewled when his cock hits a particular spot in you. “Take it easy, baby, nice and slow, okay?” He said, taking a hold on the back of your head and pulling you in for a slow kiss.
You followed his words and planted your knees on either side of him, going down steadily, crying out at the way you feel every ridge of his huge cock inside you like this. 
It was so pleasurable, the way he groaned in your ears, squeezing your breasts, tugging at your sensitive nipples, murmuring stupid, sweet nothings, his cock seemingly growing larger in your heat each second passed, and soon, you feel that knot in your stomach ready to burst. 
“I-I’m cumming, Kook, I’m cumming–" 
Jungkook hummed, and when he felt your movements stuttering, he took it upon himself to press his thumb to your clit, rubbing the bundle of nerves and fucking his dick up into you, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as your orgasm snap. 
"So good for me, baby, fuck, you’re such a good girl for me.” He kept rubbing delicious shapes on your clit, and you had to bite back a pathetic sob as the pleasure started to become too much. 
But he was still chasing his high, and you leaned forward to kiss him through it, letting him do whatever he wanted to get himself there. 
And when he did cum, you feel yourself cumming a second time too, Jungkook letting out strings of curses and nonsense as he feels you dripping more juices down onto his cock. 
Your head falls on the crook of his neck, Jungkook caressing your back as he relaxes on the seat. 
For a while, words were not spoken. He kept kissing your hair while you felt him twitching in your pussy. 
“I’m so tired,” you wearily peeled your face from his neck, looking at him. He has his eyes shut close, but there’s a content smile on his face that you leaned down to kiss. You didn’t know what for, you just felt like kissing him. 
Jungkook hums. The mess in your crotch starts to feel sticky and cold and uncomfortable. 
“Let’s stay like this for a while.” He says, as if he could read that you were about to get off his lap. 
You chuckle. “I can literally feel you going soft." 
"Ignore my dick. I wanna feel you a little more." 
"Okay." 
Jungkook does an unexpected thing of kissing your forehead. You choose to ignore the weird tingling feeling in your stomach and the way your cheeks feel hot at the action, just let him slip his fingers through your hair and rest your cheek on his naked chest. 
You eventually got off of each other after a few minutes, and you both were quiet as you dressed yourselves back. Jungkook and you got out of his car so he could drive and you could enter the passenger’s seat. 
The drive to your place was quiet but the silence was nice and comfortable, just like when you were at the back of that creepy old house. Jungkook occasionally sang along to some of the songs playing from a random playlist he pulled up on Spotify, and his voice sounded kind of nice. You wanted to say something about it but decided not to, in slight fear that he would stop.
When he pulled over in front of your complex, there was a soft, gentle smile on his face when he told you, "Sweet dreams." 
Your face mirrored his as you wished him good night. 
You locked the door to your apartment, ignoring the strange feeling in your stomach. 
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You found yourselves at that abandoned house again the next night and Jungkook forewent the booze and brought junk food from Wendy’s. You had a swell time just sitting with each other at the back of the house, talking about the most random things you could talk about like some silly childhood memories. You almost shared your joy upon finding out that you weren’t actually pregnant after taking the test earlier that day just like you said you would the other night, but you found it better to keep that to yourself.
Additionally, you ranted to him about Professor Kang for giving you a C+ on a project you thought you deserved a higher grade for. Jungkook showed blind support by roasting your professor’s haircut. You didn’t fuck that night but did it the next night after a few drinks. 
When the day of their second game of Finals hit, your Uni won again and Jungkook ditched the after-game party, picking you up and driving you to that place. Almost like it became tradition. 
This time, you think you went overboard with the drinks, but it was probably just your shitty alcohol tolerance because Jungkook was standing still with his third bottle – which you childishly argued was unfair. 
Jungkook carried you like a sack of potatoes on your way to his car, ignoring how you slapped his ass. But you were all giggles and hushed whispers in the backseat as Jungkook guided your hips, bouncing you on his cock, just like the other night.
"How does it feel, baby?” Jungkook whispered against your mouth while you gripped his shoulders hard to slide up and down his cock, the tops of your feet resting on his thighs.
“S-so good,” you whimpered, speeding up, feeling yourself getting close to your edge. 
Jungkook tightened his hands on your waist but didn’t really do anything to control your movements or pace like he usually would. Like he was just enjoying you on top of him, using his cock to get off. 
You leaned down to kiss him, your moan upon feeling him deeper getting swallowed by the way he immediately reciprocated your touch.
You opened your eyes but then you suddenly caught a glimpse of a car. You pulled away from the kiss, but Jungkook took it as an opportunity to kiss your neck instead. While he was busy lapping up your skin, you narrowed your eyes to see clearer, only to realize that the car you saw was a fucking police cruiser. 
“Jungkook,” you called him, stopping your movements on his lap. 
“Baby,” Jungkook’s voice nearly sounded like a whine, understandably confused at your action– or lack thereof. 
But you only tapped his shoulder a little harder. 
“There’s a damn cruiser in front of us." 
Well, it wasn’t actually in front of you. It was more like, parked across from you, beside that abandoned house. 
Jungkook seemed to realize your panic though. His car wasn’t lit because you immediately got into it the moment he put you in the backseat. It was a little inconvenient especially when you were slipping him in but it turned to be a blessing in disguise because whoever owned that cruiser wouldn't have noticed what you were doing in his car.
"Shit." 
You hastily climbed off of him, quickly finding your shorts on the floor of the car and sliding it on while seated. Meanwhile, Jungkook just tucked his dick in his boxers and zipped up his pants. It was pure luck that you didn’t completely strip each other off earlier because it made for a fast dress up.
"Wait.” Jungkook leaned over the center part of the car and stayed a few seconds hunched over the console. You were just about to ask him what he was doing when the passenger’s seat suddenly reclined back. 
“Oh." 
"We can climb over here so that we don’t have to go out and have a cop seeing us. It would be suspicious.” He suggested, and you quickly nodded and did what he told you with a little bit of his help.
Jungkook pressed a button once again that had the driver’s seat this time leaning back, just like yours did. He climbed over it just as fast, putting on his seatbelt that you remember you needed to do as well so you followed. 
He lit on the car and started the engine. But before he could drive, a knock on his window made you both look at it.
“Fuck.”
You held your breath as you watched his window slowly sliding down, revealing a police decked in his uniform hunching down to see the inside of the car. 
“Evening, officer.” Jungkook greets casually. You didn’t know what to do. You reached for the phone in your pocket and turn it on, ducking down as much as you could so as to hide your face, trying to seem busy and casual.
“Oh, it’s just some kids, Hwang,” The cop turned to the side, and that’s when you heard another set of footsteps coming towards you. “You kids live here?" 
"Yeah. It’s my parents’ house, I’m just about to drive my girlfriend home.” Jungkook answered, referring to the green house he parked at, not a hint of hesitation or even an ounce of nervousness in his demeanor. 
You were too frozen to react to the way he called you his girlfriend. 
The other cop nodded. “Apologies. We were just roaming. Be careful, kid, you got a sleek car. There’s some thief on the loose around the street." 
Jungkook nodded as well, even did a little salute as he said, "You got it, sir." 
The cop patted the top of his car and Jungkook bid them a final goodbye before closing his window again and driving away. 
You felt like your soul just went right back inside you after it got out for a moment there. 
"Holy shit, that was the craziest thing I’ve ever done.”
“Really?”
“Yes!” 
And then suddenly, you giggled. Actually, like, giggled. Because realizing what just happened, you found every single thing fucking hilarious. You got away from cops!
“Oh my god, Jungkook. That was insane!” You said in between your laughter. 
Jungkook looked over at you before training his attention to the road and finally laughing with you, seemingly finding what happened just as hilarious. “Yeah. It was, it was.”
“And they really believed you! I can’t believe it,” you covered your face with both of your hands, your belly starting to hurt with how much you found the whole thing incredulous that it was funny.
“It’s not like we did anything wrong…” Jungkook said but he had a hint of playful tone when he spoke the words.
You snorted. “Well, in between public indecency and trespassing, which do you think they would most likely arrest us for?" 
That got Jungkook to laugh again. 
During the ride to your place, you complained about feeling too cold at one point. Jungkook asked if you wanted him to turn the A/C down but you shook your head and so he offered his jacket instead because you only wore a shirt. In your defense, when he picked you up, the weather was humid even though it was late at night.
You didn’t stop talking and laughing about what happened earlier, though. You found it hard to let go of it just like that.
"You are so drunk,” Jungkook chuckled as he pulled over. “You’re going to regret it tomorrow." 
"It’s Saturday tom–” you cut yourself off with a yawn. 
“You’re cute when you’re drunk.” Jungkook commented, pulling over, indicating that you were near your apartment. You didn’t even notice. 
“Not drunk, just tipsy.” You said, starting to unbuckle your seat belt but you kept on failing. Your tipsiness was starting to kick in again and everything was a little too hazy in your head.
You still definitely are aware about your surroundings, so aware that you felt Jungkook hunching over your side to unbuckle your seat belt for you, so close that you felt his breath fanning your face.
“Thanks.” You smiled, he returned it.
You opened the door yourself this time, though, and was only a little surprised to see Jungkook getting out of his car too.
“Let me walk you to your door."
And honestly, you should be worried about the possibility of Nayeon being at the apartment and seeing you together, but you couldn’t really bring yourself to care when all you could feel was odd content in feeling Jungkook’s presence as you walked towards your place. 
It was quiet but it was comfortable. You noticed how it’s always been like that with him, especially these days.
When you reached your door, you turned to Jungkook who was a little behind you, probably slowed his steps when you neared your place.
“Thanks for walking me." 
"No biggies,” Jungkook grins and then he stares at you for a while.
“What?” You asked. 
He leans down, holds your hip and presses his mouth against your own. 
Surprisingly, you didn’t really make a big deal out of it in your head when you were supposed to because this has never happened before: Jungkook walking you to your door and kissing you before he leaves has never occurred before. 
And yet, it felt so normal. Like it was just something that happens on the daily. Like you were so used to feeling his casual and soft kisses instead of the passionate and hard ones that often led to something. 
“See you next week?" 
You nod, biting your lip as he lets you go. "Yeah." 
Jungkook gives you a one, last small smile before he turns around and goes to his car, entering it and driving away from your complex. 
What a crazy night. 
You did not want to admit it, but maybe the strange feeling in your stomach the other night was goddamn butterflies.
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You really weren’t supposed to come with.
But Juyeon, your editor in chief, told you to accompany Ryujin as she goes to interview the basketball team for their second win at the Finals season today. Your responsibility told you that it was fine, which, really is fine because you were used to monitoring freshmen in the club and that was actually one of your official jobs as the managing director but!
You were basically gonna do a babysitting job because Ryujin apparently fucked a guy from the team after she interviewed them the first time and it resulted to a poor article, and as a result, Juyeon is afraid she’s gonna fuck up her future write-ups so you’re the collateral damage of the whole situation. 
Juyeon didn’t tell you that herself, though. Keeping things professional and decent. You heard it from the other members of the club. 
Right now, you have to be at the gymnasium to meet people you’ve never really bothered meeting before and have always avoided for obvious reasons. 
But it was fine.
You checked Ryujin’s questions on the way there and when you arrived, she immediately tried to spot the team’s coach to talk to him about the interview she was gonna conduct. 
Instantly, you felt a prickling sensation on your arms and the back of your neck as the varsity players stopped on their tracks to look at the newcomers. At this hour, you can see no one at the gym seats. You and Ryujin were the only civilians and they noticed that immediately. 
It’s as if you couldn’t help it, but you spotted Jungkook on one of the benches drinking water. As if on cue, he met your gaze, and you could see the little surprise he had on his face seeing you. However, you quickly looked away and walked towards where the coach and Ryujin were.
"I’m here with our managing director, too. She’s here to help me with the interview.” Ryujin told the coach, all smiles. 
“Good day, sir.” You greeted him. He nodded at you in acknowledgement and turned to look at his team. 
“Alright,” The coach loudly said, which got the players to transfix their attention to him instead. You tried not to notice Jungkook looking at you as he walked towards your direction, the other members doing the same. Coach stood straight and elaborated, “The school’s publication is here to interview you about the previous game you’ve had. Practice ends here–” he was cut off by the collective loud cheers from the guys. He shook his head. “But put on your best behavior." 
"Guaranteed, coach.” Someone said but you saw how he sent a wink to Ryujin’s way.
Jesus Christ, where even was the subtlety? It was such a boy-ish thing to do. If you could, you would roll your eyes. Wait – was it the guy she fucked on that interview? Ugh. You couldn’t really bring yourself to care. It was her sex life… just maybe she shouldn’t mix it with her journalism activities… 
“Careful, Kang. I’m gonna make you do ten laps if you don’t give these writers some good material,” The coach warned and some of them snorted. He then turned to both of you and Ryujin. “These guys are very rowdy but you guys will be fine." 
You try to smile at him as he bids his goodbye and leaves the gym. Taejun, the senior sports journalist had already interviewed him so Ryujin only had to do it with the players themselves so they could collaborate on the article. 
Ryujin enthusiastically greeted the team and introduced herself, as well as you. You offered them a small smile and was only a little taken aback when Taehyung chirped your name.
"Hi, Taehyung.” you return his greeting.
He grins at you.
Ryujin looks at you immediately. “Oh, you know someone here?" 
Yeah, technically you knew of some people here. You knew Taehyung though, and you knew Jungkook. But you chose to just nod instead of saying anything. 
Ryujin lets out a happy noise. "That’s so cool!" 
Yeah…
"Hey, surprised to see you here,” Taehyung walked up to you. “I thought you weren’t in the sports section?”
You were surprised to know that Taehyung even remembers what you told him a long time ago. You got to know each other that much during the time you were constantly talking. 
“Well, yes. Ryujin is a freshman, though. I take care of them sometimes, you can say.” You replied. 
Taehyung nodded in understanding. “You’re gonna be here for a while?" 
"We’ll see. But I think the interview will be a quick one." 
Someone from the team called Taehyung and he looked at you apologetically. You nodded with a smile. 
"We always seem so busy whenever we see each other,” Taehyung shakes his head with a laugh. You find that quite funny too. “Hey, do you wanna catch up? Get some coffee around." 
"Oh, yeah, sure. But I bet your sched is crazy these days.” you said, alluding to their constant practices for Finals season. 
“Nah, I can make time. Unless you have a crazy sched too?” He gave you a playful smile. 
You cocked your head to the side, squinting your eyes at him. “Not all of us are trying to get our school a big trophy." 
Taehyung laughed at that and his teammates called for him again, this time it was Jungkook. You both looked at him. He had a strange look on his face but you shrugged it off. 
"Well, I better get going. Ryujin’s starting.” He said and pointed back with his thumb. 
The boys were kind of rowdy in the start, but they eventually scattered around the benches doing their own thing as Ryujin talked to them individually, especially the ones who usually play in court. 
You offered to take some of your own notes, too, were kind of bothered that you didn’t really understand some of the terms used and that this was very unusual territory for you to get a material at for writing an article. You never really dabbled on sports writing. 
Eventually, you felt your bladder looking for relief so you told Ryujin that you would be back in a minute. 
It was a little difficult to find the comfort room but you did see it in the far corner of the hallway, a few steps away from the gymnasium. 
You were washing your hands on the communal sink after peeing when the door suddenly opened, revealing Jungkook in his jersey. 
Hand clutching your chest, you looked at him with a scandalized expression. 
“Jesus,” you squint your eyes. “Why are you here?”
Jungkook closes the door and saunters towards the room. “No greetings or anything?" 
You give him an eyeroll and come back to washing your hands as soon as you get over the initial shock of seeing him. 
You simply shrug.
In a second, Jungkook was beside you.
"We haven’t seen each other in a while,” he said, giving you a playful nudge. 
You whisk your hands, ridding the wetness out of your hands. 
“It’s only been three days." 
You see him smile at you through the mirror, and he has that soft look again on his face. You get reminded of your last night together. When he kissed you good night as he dropped you home. 
"I was surprised to see you there,” Jungkook says, turning around and leaning back on the counter. 
You think he’s referring to seeing you at the gym and that makes you chuckle. Why was everyone surprised to see you at the gym? “Why, you think you guys own the gym or something?" 
Jungkook found your sass amusing, though. 
"Come on, you know what I mean." 
You playfully narrowed your eyes at him but ended up laughing for no reason other than he also laughed. 
"Eh, duty calls. Our EIC had me accompany Ryujin, so...” you see Jungkook nodding. You swerve the topic to the next one. “Your big game starts in, like, five days from now.” You mirror his stance and also lean back on the counter. 
Jungkook watched as you did so. “Yeah.”
His eyes are trained on yours, and you hold a weird, intense stare until he finally peels himself off from the counter and walks to you. You’re surprised that you’ve never thought about him in his jersey but you were able to see him earlier like this before and right now, in your close up view, damn. He looked good. Especially with his tattoos all out like that. You really like them. They looked pretty.
“It’s probably gonna be the last game,” you said, referring to the fact that they’ve won the last two games and if they win this one, it would be the concluding point of the Finals season. “You’re going to make the Uni proud?” You arched a brow at him. 
He shrugged. And finally, he crossed the small distance between you and held your hips. You think you unintentionally let out a happy hum at the contact. You’ve been wanting him to touch you as soon as you saw him earlier. For some weird reason. 
“Sure, but only if you’re there for me to give me my personal reward,” The lewd undertone was not lost on you and it made you giggle. Somehow, he’d gotten even closer, fingers caressing your hips in soothing circles. “You look good, by the way. This skirt is new?" 
It is new. You try not to think too much about what it says about you that you kind of thought of him when you placed the order a week ago. It was just a blip of thought, anyway. You swear. 
"Yes. And you’re kinda sweaty,” He really is. But it doesn’t stop you from looping your arms around his neck and Jungkook is only visibly satisfied at the close proximity. 
“Hard at work,” he leans down, but he only nudges your nose. “Can I see your panties?" 
You would have scolded yourself for giggling like a school girl at that question, but Jungkook must’ve realized how stupid that sounded too as he laughed together with you. 
"I don’t know, you’re gonna have to do it yourself. I think.” You whispered, playing into the joke. 
You saw his smirk before he finally closed the hairsbreadth gap between you and touched your mouth against his. He prodded at the seam of your lips with his tongue and you let him access, his tongue swirling with your own as you shared a rather passionate kiss in the sink.
There was a string of saliva between your mouths when he broke free.
“God, I missed your taste.”
It was his last words before he dove in again, kissing you way deeper now, more frantic as well, as he started getting handsy. At some point, his hands on your hips lifted you up until you were seated on the counter, Jungkook kissing you like it hasn’t only been three days since he had you like this. He squeezed your bare thighs that got you whimpering, your hips, waist. Up, up, and up until he was copping a feel on your boobs through your clothes. 
He was kissing your neck when you suddenly felt him untucking your shirt from your skirt. 
“Wait, no,” You tried to get your head out of your previous headspace and took a hold of his wrists. 
“No?” Jungkook stops, looking at you curiously, lips plump, hair a little wild. And with his stupid basketball uniform, it was extremely hard to discourage his advances. 
But…
“Someone might come in,” you say with genuine worry in your voice, pushing him away slightly. 
“There’s not really a lot of people who come to this bathroom,” he tells you. Which, you think, kind of makes sense. Him and his teammates have their locker rooms and their own comfort room that was an extension of the gym (which you pointedly didn’t go to for obvious reasons) and this part of the campus was a little quiet. 
But then again, you did tell Ryujin you would be back in a minute. And it would be quite ironic if Juyeon told you to monitor her because she fucked someone in the team while you go ahead and fail to do that job because you were fooling around with another someone from the same team. 
Jesus. That’s enough crisis for today. 
“Ryujin’s probably going to interview you soon,” you said, tucking your shirt back into your skirt.
You jump slightly to step on the floor, turning around to fix your hair, seeing Jungkook stepping back through the mirror. “Why did you leave the gym, by the way?" 
Jungkook invades your personal space again and presses himself to your back. "I got excited when I saw you…” he whispers in your ear and your whimper betrays your resistance from literally a few seconds ago as you feel something hard on your ass. 
But at the same time, you look at him incredulously through the mirror. He just shrugs as he sees it, gripping your hips again and burrowing his face on the crook of your neck.
“Kook,” you whine.
Jungkook chuckled and before you can do something stupid like give in to his touch, he leaned back and held his hands up. 
“Fine, fine,” he says, still laughing when you turn around to glare at him. “Can I see you later?" 
You jab at his chest lightly. "For being annoying just right now, you can’t " 
His face contorts and pouts. "Aw, come on," 
You roll your eyes at his dramatic antics. 
"We can’t get into anything tonight. Nayeon is staying at home and I’m nervous about her seeing your car if you pick me up,” you tell him. “Also, we can’t go to that place. That cruiser might be back again." 
"Yeah, yeah,” Jungkook agrees. “We can just go together to my place after this, though? It would be late by the time your friend is finished with the interview."  
You look at him funny. 
He sighs. "Damn, I thought I could finally convince you to fuck at my place." 
You shake your head. "Never.”
From the start, you both agreed to only fuck at your place (whenever Nayeon is not around, of course) per your request. Jungkook lives quite far from the campus, at least far compared to yours, and it was a high complex building. As far as you know, most of the big shots at school live there and he’s neighbors with Taehyung. You don’t want to risk it. 
“Never is a long time..” Jungkook wiggles his brows at you and that breaks you from your thoughts. 
Laughing, you push at him playfully. 
“Gee. You should go. They’re probably now wondering why you’re taking so long." 
"They’re probably thinking I’m taking a shit.” he shrugs. “I think I told Taehyung that before I left.”
“Oh no, is that what they’re going to think about me, too?” You gave him an animated concerned look, making your voice purposely higher in pitch. 
“Wait, what? You take a shit?” Jungkook playing into the joke caused you to laugh and you punched his bicep that he just took with a grin. 
When the laughter died down, Jungkook looked at you seriously.
“When can I see you again?" 
"I don’t know. Sometime this week, maybe? Don’t be whiny.” You smile as you see his pout. “Hey, you really should go now." 
He looked a little hesitant but he didn’t really have a choice. And you were also growing more concerned that someone from the gym might think maliciously about you and Jungkook disappearing at the same time for a long time. Hopefully, no one cared enough to think about it. 
"Alright.” Jungkook says finally and starts to step out. Before he leaves, though, he asks, “Wait, are you going to the game?" 
You hope Jungkook doesn’t see the surprise if it showed on your face. You didn’t expect him to ask that. 
But you try to play it cool, pondering on it. It’s Wednesday, next week, and as far as you knew, there was nothing major in your schedule. You still don’t know about that, though. Maybe some of your profs would drop a big project on your heads come Monday. 
It’s why you were surprised to hear yourself say, "I’ll try." 
Jungkook gave you a wide grin before he left completely.
When you got back to the gym, Ryujin was already talking to him.
Jungkook looked at the door when you entered and did a poor job of hiding a smile to himself, and for what reason, you simply didn’t know. But so as you did not know the reason for why you looked too closely at him to even notice that tiny gesture. 
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For someone who was adamant to see you last week, Jungkook wasn’t really able to snuck in time to do so. You shared texts here and there, but he mentioned that they’ve been practicing nonstop since the past few days because they are preparing for a big game, after all. Might be the last one if they come through and win it. 
Come Wednesday, the day of the third game, Jungkook texted you that he got a reserved seat for you at the venue. Your weird giddiness over that was clouded by the worry at the thought of how he managed to do that without anyone suspecting anything about your relationship. You mentally noted to tell him about it later. 
When Nayeon came home after classes, she told you she got two tickets for the game if you wanted to come with. You didn’t really need tickets, though, you could just use your journalist card and they would let you in.
See, you had all these resources to go to the game but the thing is, you have a book review and another assignment due tonight and you needed to get some studying done for a test tomorrow. The game starts at 3 pm and will probably end around 6 or even later than that. It’s not that you never procrastinated in your life but you’ve learned over the years to prioritize more important things over the ones that didn’t really need urgency. And this is why you told Nayeon that you couldn’t come with her because of your packed schedule today. 
But worry looms over you as you remember how excited Jungkook seemed over your texts earlier when you asked him what you should expect at the game. He told you about how it could be chaotic and noisy and crowded but it was gonna be fun and worth your while, especially if – he jokingly said – he scores a shot for you if you were to be there. 
Looking back, you made it sound like you were gonna come but in your defense, you really were going to but these school activities came to you unexpectedly and you didn’t have the luxury of time to set them aside to watch a basketball game first. 
And anyway, was it really a big deal if you didn’t come? You don’t think Jungkook would really mind. Maybe his texts went over your head that you thought he was excited at the prospect of you going to his game. You would tell yourself it didn’t matter, and if Jungkook was going to be shit about it (which you doubt, ‘cause he seemed casual about inviting you) then he was weird for being (hypothetically) weird about it. It wasn’t like this was normal for you both, anyway; you going to his games, that is. 
So around 2 pm, you messaged him. 
[2:06pm] You: Hey, I’m really sorry I can’t go to your game. Swamped with school works, but I wish you good luck :) Go break a leg but hopefully not literally! 
It was hard to focus on writing your book review because you couldn’t help but be agitated as you remembered that they air these Finals games on television and you could literally just turn it on and watch it from there. But the empty document on your laptop was glaring at you, like it was daring you to watch TV instead of finishing it. 
Of course, you chose to tend to the intimidating clean white MS word page instead. As if you really had a choice in the first place. 
At 10 pm, your book review was mostly done and only needed a few touch-ups. You also finished your other assignment so you finally had some time to eat.
You just reheated a leftover pizza from your fridge when you received a text from Nayeon.
[10:11pm] Im Nayeonie: babe im sleeping over at a friend’s so the place is all yours for tonight. don’t forget to lock up ok  [10:11pm] You: Ok! You’ll be back tomorrow morning?  [10:14pm] Im Nayeonie: eh probably around 10am but I’ll see 
You remember that she was at the game earlier. It actually slipped off your mind eventually when you got your head in too deep with finishing your assignments, but now that you’re reminded of it again, you wanted to know how it was.
[10:16pm] You: Hey how was the game?  [10:16pm] Im Nayeonie: oh my ur interested in bb now??  [10:17pm] You: Don’t tease! I just wanted to know if you had fun  [10:17pm] Im Nayeonie: ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
You snort at the ridiculous emoticon. 
[10:17pm] You: What the hell does that mean?!  [10:17pm] Im Nayeonie: nothing lmaoooo [10:18pm] Im Nayeonie: but the game was fine! it was kinda intense but our uni lost unfortunately): they had a three point difference 
Oh. You usually didn’t care about any sports games that your Uni has but the news deflated you for some reason.
[10:19pm] You: Ah, thats unfortunate
You replied, finding that you didn’t really know what to say. Should you message Jungkook? But what were you going to say? 
[10:19pm] Im Nayeonie: yeah it is it was supposed to be the last game 😖😖 but there’s still 2 more to go anyway im not too worried about it finals went like this last season too [10:20pm] Im Nayeonie: but jungkook’s buzzer beater at game 4 was really insane it’s like all over on twt IK you proly won’t care about it but ill still send you a link HAHAHAH 
Nayeon did send you a link and thankfully you were able to see it even though you didn’t have Twitter, but you looked up "buzzer beater” on Google first. You didn’t understand it completely but slowly did when you played the video she was talking about. 
The camera was a bit shaky and the background was expectedly noisy. The angle shifted to the timer on top of the ring and you could see that there was only ten seconds left. When the lens panned to the court, you saw a player wearing your Uni’s colors and you couldn’t have mistaken Jungkook for anyone when you spotted the tattoo sleeve. He was a bit far from the ring, at that curved line – the three-point line, you learned through the replies – but he successfully shot the ball quite gracefully into the ring and everyone just lost it. Even the person behind the video was cheering exuberantly. You could also make out that Jungkook pumped the air at his own shot in triumph as a buzzing sound overtook the screams before the clip ended. 
Apparently, they were losing in the fourth game, but Jungkook managed to make a three-point shot in the very literal end which got them a chance to play through the fifth.
You scrolled through the comments and found out that it was indeed a tight game and the other team only had a three-point difference with your Uni’s team, like Nayeon said.
It was amazing, in your opinion, but people online could really be shitty.
Some were mocking Jungkook’s buzzer beater in game 4, saying how it was useless and how he could’ve done it again in game 5 but wasn’t able to. You didn’t know shit about basketball but you were very certain it was a rare thing to do in court so the people who were complaining about it could go fuck themselves.
This is why you avoid social media as much as possible. You hope Jungkook doesn’t see those comments. 
You were frowning as you texted Nayeon back. 
[10:26pm] You: That was cool [10:26pm] You: Hey I’ll talk to you soon I’m gonna go eat dinner. Have fun on your sleepover
You weren’t able to see her reply when Jungkook’s name is suddenly plastered all over your screen. You accepted his call on the third ring.
“Hi,” you say. You can’t help but think about the negative comments on Twitter but Jungkook sounded fine when he answered. 
“Hi, baby,” he greeted on his end. “Can I see you?" 
"Sure,” you answer almost immediately. You composed yourself before continuing. “Nayeon will be out until morning. Come over?" 
You can feel his smile through the line as he says, "Nice. Be there in five." 
Per his words, Jungkook did arrive in five minutes and when you heard a knock from your front door, you quickly opened it and ushered him inside. 
"Hey,” you greet him as he removes his stompers off. He slides on your extra fluffy home slippers, your old one that you have been lending him whenever he would come over. You think it’s kind of funny on his feet because the sliders were too small. “I just finished my leftover pizza for dinner so I don’t have any food right now. Do you want me to order in?" 
Jungkook shakes his head. "Nah, I’m not really hungry. Unless you are? Wait, nevermind, I’ll do that." 
He takes out his phone but you stop him. 
"No, no, it’s fine. I actually ordered Chinese while you were on your way so I could beat you to it.” You tease. But you kind of meant it, honestly. He needs to stop paying for everything. But also, the pizza didn’t cut your hunger and you needed to eat rice, anyway, so you ordered in right after your call with him ended.
Jungkook frowned but then shook his head. “Alright." 
"Water?” You asked, going towards the kitchen. 
“Yes, please." 
He followed you on your way there and when you turned around to give him the glass, he snaked an arm around your waist and kissed you. 
It took you by surprise, but you reciprocated immediately. You mirrored his smile when he broke the kiss. He gazed at you, a fond look on his face, and leaned down to press his forehead to yours and said, "Hi." 
You giggle. "Hi." 
Jungkook presses his mouth on you again and you kiss some more for a little while. It was weird because your kisses usually lead to fucking, but this time it didn’t mean anything other than plain kissing, just for the sake of it. You were reminded of that time in high school when you and your first boyfriend often made out (sloppily) in your room because it was all you were ready to do. Jungkook was far more skilled than said first boyfriend, though. And it felt way nicer with him. 
You were the one to pull away, licking your lips and biting the bottom one.
"Do you wanna watch something?" 
"Hm. Hopefully you aren’t going to make me watch Legally Blonde again." 
Your frown is instant. "I thought you liked that movie?" 
Jungkook chuckles and pecks your lips again but you sulk, especially after hearing his next words, "I do, baby. It’s just I’m getting tired of it…” When he sees your frown deepening, he says, “I’m kidding. We can watch it." 
"No, I feel betrayed now.” You break free from his hold and down another glass of water. 
He laughed and was about to say more when your doorbell rang, indicating the food delivery just arrived. Jungkook was the one to volunteer. 
“I’ll go get it." 
You turned on the TV in the living room and sat on the couch.
Jungkook followed almost as quickly after you, placing the bags of Chinese food on the coffee table. 
"Oh, I think we should watch an Adam Sandlers movie. Just something not so serious.” you said just as when Jungkook sat beside you, remembering about his game earlier. You noted that he seemed to be in a good mood when he came in but you never know, maybe he was good at hiding his real emotions or whatever. And, well, maybe you were a little happy to see him laughing like that with you, despite losing an important game.
“I thought you hated him and his movies?" 
You shrug, appreciating that he even remembers that.
"Eh, it’s fine. It's... camp, you know? Sometimes shitty movies are funny because they’re shitty." 
After a while, you get reminded why you don’t watch Adam Sandlers movies. Even Jungkook who laughs at the most stupid jokes didn’t find the supposed punchlines of the movie you were watching funny. But somehow, you found yourselves eventually laughing at how unfunny the film was and only a little surprised when you went through the whole Chinese take-outs not even 30 minutes in the movie. 
"His movies always make my film maker dreams die.” You comment absentmindedly, drinking your water. 
Jungkook looks at you with a surprised expression. “Filmmaker?" 
You try to remember if you mentioned it to him in passing before. By the look on his face, it was probably his first time hearing it.
"Yep." 
"Oh,” Jungkook nods in thought. “I see you didn’t pursue it." 
"Eh, film school is expensive. Also, it’s not a very generous industry for women, so.” You shrug nonchalantly.
It’s a dormant dream for the most part. Sometimes, you want it a lot, but most of the time, not really. Fresh out of high school, you were supposed to major in it but it was way more you could afford, and your family didn't exactly support it. So study education it is. Besides, teaching was a secondary dream that you decided you could pursue, and well, you were doing well with it. These days though, you were planning to go to law school but it's still something you aren't very sure yet.
It’s a drama you don’t want to bother Jungkook with, though. You never had a discussion like this before… and you weren’t really sure if you were ready to open up to someone like that. 
“I did videography in first year,” he shares. You arch your brow at that. Obviously you didn’t know. “I liked it and I was going to major in multimedia arts but dad said it was either be a lawyer or a doctor if I don’t do tech." 
Ah. An overachiever family, you think. His dad owns a really huge tech company – he didn’t tell you that himself, you just heard it from other people in your school. He probably doesn’t even know you knew that. But you wouldn’t be surprised if he told you right now that his family was full of successful professionals. 
"You went with tech.” You say. 
Jungkook chuckles. “I did. But I made a bargain and said I would only take it if he lets me play basketball. He did let me, but he only tolerates it because I’m passing my classes." 
You nodded, relating a bit. you wouldn't say your parents were particularly strict – but they were extremely practical people who wanted practical lives for their children. They weren’t over-controlling that they smother you with decisions you could make yourself. 
"He really hates it, though.” Jungkook continues. 
“Basketball?” You ask. 
He nods. “Yeah. He thinks I’m thinking of going professional after I graduate, he doesn’t want me to do it." 
"Are you?” You ask, curious. “Going professional, I mean.”
Jungkook shrugs. “I don’t know yet. I love playing. I'd also like to do tech after college, but it feels like I’m just following in his footsteps if I do that," And as if you didn't know already, he humbly adds, "My father’s in tech, by the way.” -- as if his dad was just a regular guy in the field.
He didn’t say it directly, but you feel like he’s probably being pressured by his dad to do this and that. And that makes you feel bad. Jungkook was always so easy-going, so laidback in a way that you would think he was just some varsity casanova asshole with zero care about their future because they think their looks could get them by through their lives, but he really wasn’t anything like that at all. He joined basketball because he loves it, maybe he gets a high from people admiring him for it but you could say he does it mostly for himself. That’s why he trains so hard and plays so hard in court. Aside from that, he was also really smart – which gets overlooked quite often because of his jock persona, and you know that because you were one of those who did overlook his intelligence before because he was a varsity. But he was smart, alright. He takes his studies seriously just as basketball. 
Jungkook is admittedly a lot of great things. And it was sad that his family seemed to not support him, the way you see it.
But… 
You didn’t really know what to tell him. Is he opening up? It’s just that… you never really talked about these things before and what he’s saying right now is so far from your usual lighthearted and casual conversations and interactions. You drew a conclusion that he probably has a tight relationship with his dad, but you don’t know what to do with that entirely new information. 
“Uhm, you’re good at it, basketball,” And his studies, too. You wanted to say but didn’t. You add, “I saw your beater buzzer from the game earlier. It was really cool." 
"It’s buzzer beater– hey, how did you know about that?” He says with an amused smile. You feel slightly embarrassed at how you mixed up the term but it was kind of complicated, alright! And you were kind of nervous. You find it comforting that he doesn’t tease you about it, though.
“Oh, well. Nayeon texted me about it. Also, you’re like, trending on Twitter.” You just told what Nayeon said. You actually didn’t know if he was trending because you didn’t have an account in the first place. “But don’t go look there, though, you’ll have a migraine." 
Jungkook chuckles and leans back on the couch, relaxed in that position. "Yeah. People on the net can be real assholes."
That comment makes you frown. That probably meant he saw the negative feedback, right? Was he used to it? That would be… upsetting if he was. You knew about the local popularity of the athletes in your school, especially the football and volleyball and basketball players. Jungkook is obviously included in that circle but you feel bad that he has to deal with unnecessary hate. Jobs really are needed for chronically online people, you think bitterly.
Before you could say anything, Jungkook’s phone rang and you didn’t mean to look at his screen but you saw "Dad”. He declined the call. 
“He’s talking my ear off about the game earlier,” Jungkook shakes his head. “He acts real concerned over my loss for someone who’s very unsupportive of my basketball career.” He was grinning while he said it but you could hear the annoyance in his tone, how he shut down his phone to probably dodge future calls from his father.
You turned to the movie in front of you.
“Hey, I’m sorry I wasn’t able to go.” You said, effectively changing the subject.
“Hm?” You meet Jungkook’s gaze. He smiles a little. “Ah, I read your text earlier, it’s fine." 
You nodded and tried to focus on the movie again, but you haven’t been following the plot and so you had no idea what they’re showing you now. 
Jungkook suddenly speaks. 
"So are you planning to teach once you graduate? Or take law? You mentioned it before."
Oh. Is he…? 
You could feel his genuine curiosity in that question. But you find yourself hesitating to engage in any more deep conversation with him. It’s not that you didn’t want to share… you’re just not that kind of person. Is he expecting you to lay out your personal drama? 
You choose not to.
"Not sure. I don't want to talk about it."
You didn't mean for it to come out the way it did; clipped and annoyed. As if you didn't want to talk to him. And you could see that he was taken aback, surprised at the sudden change of your tone. But why? You didn’t feel like sharing. And anyway, you were only fuck buddies, right? Are you suddenly becoming bestfriends who tell each other about everything? 
You awkwardly shifted in your seat, eyes trained on the screen in front of you but you felt Jungkook’s stare even while you weren’t looking at him, his eyes boring holes in your side profile. 
You decided to not think too much about the awkward silence throughout the next few minutes, but Jungkook suddenly stood up, looking at his phone.
“I... should get going,” Jungkook announces. 
And you didn’t expect to feel so bummed about it. But somehow, you were relieved. There was suddenly a certain strange energy around and you didn’t know if you could take any more of it.
“Ah, yeah, it’s kind of late…” you trail off. 
Jungkook smiles at you but it doesn’t reach his eyes. You delude yourself into thinking it was not fake. He’s never faked a smile with you before. 
“Thanks for the food and for inviting me over.”
“No biggies.” You say as you follow him towards the door. 
It’s silent again when he wears his shoes, and once he was set and ready to go, you could feel that your smile was hesitant as he bid his goodbye. 
“See you around." 
He didn’t offer anything more – he would usually tease you as he goes out, just to rile you up before you part ways. Jungkook just gave a final wave and went on his way.
You had a hard time sleeping that night.
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It wasn’t hard to avoid Jungkook all week when he himself seemed to be outdoing you in it.
For the record, you weren’t actually avoiding him for all sense of the word. You needed your space to collect your thoughts from that night and were trying to recover from the awkwardness of the situation because Jungkook and you might not be the best of friends but you’ve never been awkward with each other like that before.
But maybe you should be a little relieved that he hasn’t been texting, or that you haven’t heard from him. Because you weren’t sure if you were able to manage getting out of your shell so soon.
It didn’t mean that it didn’t sting a bit when he didn’t even spare you a glance the other day as you passed each other in the hallways and perhaps you should be celebrating, because yey, he finally did not acknowledge you in some way like meet your gaze and give you a small smile with so many people around that might notice and make a big deal out of it? 
But you wore the black skirt he liked so much! He was supposed to text you something stupid like "nice skirt :) i wanna see it pooled around my lap” by the end of the day but no! No such thing happened. 
Was he mad at you, is that it? Why would he be mad though? Did he seem mad that night? Did you do something that guaranteed this... Whatever this is? As far as you knew, you did not say anything that warranted a silent treatment from him. Did you? Wait, is he actually giving you the silent treatment? 
Ugh. 
When Thursday came, you found yourself watching their fourth game on TV together with Nayeon. You got a slight whiplash because it felt like your first time seeing Jungkook’s face in a long while. Somehow, he looked even better on TV, and he was so serious whenever the camera caught him. You supposed he ought to be, but you’ve never seen him that serious before. He would smile whenever they scored, and maybe it was a little embarrassing for your heart to do a little jump when you saw that toothy grin again, after so long.
You were slow to understand shit about the game, but you got the whole gist of it eventually. 
Unfortunately, though, the tight game resulted to your university losing in the end.
You wanted so badly to text him something, anything, but you felt like you weren’t on texting terms, so you went to your Instagram and sent Jungkook a direct message. 
[11:58pm] ynblips: Hi! I watched the game on TV and it was really tight and you did so well :)
You were mostly not expecting a reply, so you were only a little disappointed when you indeed didn’t get one even after a day passed. But he liked it, only liked it. Which kind of pissed you off.
What was his deal? You’ve gathered that you, apparently, weren’t on speaking terms, for some reason. But this was ridiculous. If he had a problem with you, he should be upfront about it. Not make you guess with this stupid giving-you-the-cold-shoulder thing when you didn’t even deserve it. For god’s sake, you knew that last meeting was awkward but you both usually do a good job of swerving those situations and moving on and acting casual! You’ve been casual for four months! This relationship was supposed to be easy. Smooth-sailing. So what changed now? 
Nayeon noticed your crankiness earlier this day, and it concerned you, how much this whole thing was affecting you.
But you’ve grown tired of not knowing anything. You were tired of guessing why Jungkook was being like this. 
So you were a woman with a mission today. You planned to talk to Jungkook so he could finally be a big boy and talk to you about his obvious problems with you. Because it had to be that, right? He wouldn’t talk to you because he had issues with you. 
Later that day, your quest was made easy when you saw him at the library. 
You’re only a little surprised with yourself when you walk towards his direction with the presence of many people around. Yeah, whatever. 
“Hey,” you called. 
You could see Jungkook’s eyes widening a little as he turns around to see you, his hand stopping from taking notes on his iPad as he looks up at you. 
“Oh, hey,” he greets you, but you can see he is a little confused as he takes out his airpods. You never talked to him on school grounds whenever people were around. He neither did, though. It was a mutual agreement. 
“We need to talk." 
Jungkook looks in between you and the book and notes he was doing, and you would understand if he tells you to fuck off because he was busy – maybe not with those exact words because you’d probably take it to heart and cry about it, but he’s taken you by surprise when he says, 
"Okay. Let me just fix this.” Jungkook closes his book and his iPad, stuffing them in his bag. 
You anxiously tap your shoe on the floor, though not with sound, aware of the people looking at your interaction with the school’s basketball star player. 
“Where to?” He asks as he slings his bag over his shoulder. 
“Just, uh, follow me." 
He surprisingly does without further questions, and you begin to second-guess yourself about being kind of mad at him for seemingly being mad at you. Maybe you were reading too much into these past few days? Maybe he really wasn’t mad at you and you just assumed so because he suddenly stopped texting you? It’s not that you needed an explanation for why he wasn’t talking to you suddenly. He had a life outside having a friends with benefits situation with you and you know that. 
Jungkook stopped when you halted your steps at the far end of the library. It was the old theology section and no one really comes around here anymore so it was quiet and free of lingering, poorly hidden stares from other strangers, who you prefer to not be included in this conversation you are about to have.
Shit, should you have just texted him and told him to come over so you could talk more in private? But you doubted he would reply, and anyway, Nayeon would be home so you had no private space to do that. 
"Okay,” you start. “Let’s talk." 
Jungkook quirks a brow, leaning back on a cabinet. 
You look at him one more time and sigh. 
"You’ve been avoiding me.” You didn’t really mean to say it in such a heavy tone, but it came out that way and you couldn’t take it back. 
Jungkook is caught off guard. 
“Huh?"
You frown. "You’re avoiding me. And I don’t know why and I couldn't care less, usually, but I'm confused and I don’t want to guess anything with you so just say it now." 
There, you’ve blurted it all out. 
Jungkook took a long time, but you feel yourself getting angry when he only says, "I’m not upset with you." 
Really? Really?! Is he really planning to to do this right now? What’s next, is he going to call you crazy for thinking that he was mad at you because he suddenly stopped talking to you altogether? Un-fucking-believable. 
"I know you are, just say it.” You say, trying to balance your emotions. He really is gonna call you crazy if you lash out. 
“I’m just busy with practice.” but the way he said it so dismissively, like he wanted to be anywhere but here right now, makes you frown even harder. 
“You can’t even text me?” You called out. You didn’t know why you said that, because you did just tell yourself it wasn’t a big deal if he didn’t text you. But it doesn’t mean that it didn’t hurt when he confirmed it.
“I don’t owe you an explanation."
You bite back your tongue. Wow, is he going for asshole today? But it hurt, because it was true. He didn’t need to give you an explanation. You weren’t anything important, and nor was he in your life, in any way, so why are you genuinely hurt by this?
When Jungkook noticed your silence, a flash of conflict in his expression, he decided to add, "Look…” he trailed off, as if not really having any idea what to say next. When he gave you that placating look, you knew he was about to say something that will completely piss you off.
“Is it about the sex? I’m sorry we haven’t been able to do that the past few days. Do you want to have sex today?”
You felt anger boiling in your chest as soon as he said that.
He really is going for asshole today.
What in the actual fuck? He thinks you’re confronting him because you haven’t been having sex? Why would he say that like you were just some desperate whore frothing in the mouth to bed him? Does he think of you so low like that? Did he not consider that maybe you were just genuinely concerned of feeling so distant to him right now? 
You swallow the lump in your throat and scowl at him. 
“You know what, fuck you. I asked you nicely what’s your problem with me.”
Jungkook was visibly surprised with your outburst, and you were disappointed in yourself to even show an ounce of reaction to that bullshit he just said.
But he just looks away, eager to avoid the look on your face. “You didn’t ask that, you went ahead and accused me of avoiding you when you’ve been doing the same thing." 
"Oh, so you are admitting to avoiding me. What’s the issue? Say it.” You demanded. But Jungkook wasn’t having any of it. 
“I don’t have a problem. What’s your problem? Why are you acting so upset about all of this?" 
To even throw that on your face was cruel, and you think you saw a flash of hesitation on his face when he said that, but it was blank after a split second. It’s blank until now, like he doesn’t really give a shit. 
Great. 
"I just want you to talk to me if you’re upset with me about something.” You say, even though that wasn’t really what you intended to say. It felt like defeat.
You feel pathetic all of a sudden, remembering his words. Why are you so upset about all of this? Because clearly, you care. And apparently, he did not. He didn’t have to put that to words. He didn’t have the right to hurt you like this. 
“Talk?” Jungkook repeats. “The last time we did that, you didn't seem to want to." 
His words have a bite to them, like he means more than that. And that night flashes in your head. When he was opening up to you, and you chose to disengage by being cagey and avoiding it all together because you felt weird about it. 
When you don’t answer, Jungkook sighs. 
"I have practice in five minutes. I’ll see you around." 
He doesn’t even say goodbye or spare you a last glance when he walks away. 
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You are a turtle. 
Obviously, not literally. But turtles, when bombarded, reflexively duck their heads inside their shells to protect themselves before any damage could be done to them. And the same could be said about you. 
You avoid problems like a champ. It’s the only sport that you’re really great at. 
Growing up, you’ve never really had a lot of friends. You had a small circle in high school but you didn’t see a significant value in your connection. Maybe because you grew up in an environment where love was non-existent and the relationships in your house were transactional at best, still are. Until now, you have no idea if your parents loved each other at one point or if they were always like that; like two different strangers working jobs during the day that just happen to have the same house to go to at night so you and Jini have some people to call "mom” and “dad”. You guessed you’ll never know, but it was hard not to think that their relationship has always been the latter. Your relationship with your sister mirrors that of your parents’, though, so you can’t really criticize them for not acting like partners enough.
When you were young, you hated the way you approached friendship or any sort of relationships a lot. You hated how it was so easy for others to befriend one another, how it was easy for girls your age to have a life outside of studying. You hated how easy it was for other people to not build these sturdy walls whenever someone approached them. But you just kind of grew into it along the way… 
Social networking is important for college, though, and you were forced to have friends but you did make friends willingly along the way. It was not that you are a total sociopath, nor do you think you are one. Nayeon was a sweetheart who was very likeable and you’ve had the pleasure of being roommates with her for two years now. You are close to a certain point, but it wasn’t like you were best friends. She was two years older than you and was on her last year of college and had her own close circle of friends. The closeness was a result of living a domesticated life with each other because you lived in the same house. But you genuinely like her.
And you’ve actually met more people you genuinely liked when you went to college, not just her. Like Taehyung. He was a fun conversationalist, and you feel like you could totally hit it off only if you weren’t too hesitant to befriend him. Juyeon is probably the most hardworking woman you’ve ever met, and most of your liking towards her has a lot to do with the respect and admiration you have for her. And then there was Namjoon. A guy two years your senior during your sophomore year who you've had a short fling with. He was a great guy whom you actually saw yourself dating, but it was a bit complicated. And then Jungkook…
Well… he was everything you imagined him not to be.
You still remember the first time you saw him during orientation day. He wore this huge white sweatshirt and light-washed cargo pants with some stomper boots, hair curly and so fluffy as he slung his bag over his shoulder, talking animatedly with a friend. You’ve had crushes in high school (like that one senior guy from the debate team who turned out to be an asshole so you got over it pretty quickly) but it was the first time you’ve ever felt so strongly like that. Your crush faded eventually though when you learned he was a jock.
However, the universe made different plans. You both had the same code for your first term Philo class and got partnered on a project, and unexpectedly, he turned out to be smart, kind, witty, so unbelievably handsome and attractive and actually wasn’t an asshole like you thought he was when you found out he played in the varsity team. That was the start of your pathetic minor pining over the guy and then four months ago happened.
You hit it off at a random party Nayeon told you to come with her to. Had enjoyable sex. And then another. Until you both talked about the agreement – the stupid agreement that you have now still. 
You like him a lot. Always have. In more ways than one. 
You were an expert at hiding your feelings so it never really got in the way. And anyway, you aren’t ready for a relationship so the arrangement has always been perfect for you. 
But you hated that. Because, really? This part of your life feels like some pages taken out of a shitty young adult fiction book. Falling for the popular jock at school at the same time your fuck buddy. It wasn’t supposed to be like that. You weren’t supposed to like him more than you already have because you were both clear at what you wanted when you started it. But it happened and all those fun times with him at the abandoned lot and the soft kisses and gentle smiles and fond gazes and funny conversations and his stupid teasing are most likely going down the drain because you hurt him with your inability to face your feelings. 
You aren’t stupid. You know Jungkook likes you too. You know the past few weeks have been dangerously teetering outside the line of being fuck buddies but you went along with it because who wouldn’t? What were you to do, anyway? Confront it? You’ve never been confrontational. 
So when Jungkook tried to get to know more than your outer surface by opening up to you about things that probably no one other than you knew, you cowered. 
You cowered because you were afraid of what that would entail.
You��ve never done it, opening up to people. You’ve never known anyone to a point like that. You just weren’t the type to get too close to others, them letting them you in their lives just as you let them in yours. That wasn’t who you were and you’ve always been contented with that for most of your life.
But it wasn’t fair to Jungkook and it wasn’t fair to you. It wasn’t fair to Jungkook because he deserved to know that you care. He deserves to know that you want to know him, too. You want to be close to him more than just the physical, sexual aspect of your relationship. You want to know his intentions behind the overly kind, almost special way he treats you, his caring words, the meaning behind his soft kisses after sex, the purpose behind those kisses that didn’t lead to sex.
And lastly, you want him to know that you were sorry for the other night.
So when another Friday rolled, you finally mustered up the courage to go to his game. It was the last one, after all. You wanted to show up. 
The venue was crowded and chaotic and you wanted to ditch but you decided it was fine. You were gonna endure it if it meant you finally got to see Jungkook physically in court. 
And saw him, you did. Even though you were in the middle row seats and wearing a cap because you oddly felt unwelcomed and didn’t want to be seen by him – as if he would even want to see you. But it was whatever. 
Jungkook was… amazing. That was really the only adjective you could use to describe how he was. Maybe you were a little biased but he was the greatest out of all the ten people running around the court. He just stood out, even when someone else did the good job of scoring. 
And people around you seemed to think so too because whenever he did get to score or was the one holding the ball or his face got shown on the huge screen, everyone just lost it.
The match was tight again so it bled into five games. Your Uni just needed to win the last one and they would successfully bring the trophy home.
You found yourself silently cheering for your team, specifically Jungkook, though it felt strange to you because this was your first sports game, after all. But it felt good to do it. It also felt good to see other people so passionate at cheering him on as well as his team, especially after you read all that hate against him on the internet the other week.
And it felt especially great when they did win in the end of it all. 
The stands went wild as the game finished with your Uni scoring a solid 105 and 96 for the other. 
You’ve stayed long to see Jungkook being awarded the MVP title, but not long enough to find it difficult to get an Uber as you went home. 
Nayeon got to your place later than you, but you learned that she wasn’t at the game earlier but was in a study group instead.
You ordered dinner for the both of you, just some Chinese that you quickly finished up. 
By 11 pm, you were panicking. 
You had a solid plan yesterday. You were supposed to go to Jungkook and apologize to him and whatever but how the hell were you going to do that when you had no idea where he was now? Ugh. You should’ve approached him after the games earlier! But you didn’t feel comfortable doing that with so many people around… 
You saw your phone on your night stand and got an idea to just text him. But you didn’t know if he was going to respond. If he was going to tell you to fuck off, you at least didn’t want to receive that through text. 
So you opted for the last and craziest option you’ve got. 
[11:08pm] You: Hello, Taehyung! I know we haven’t talked in a while and I’m sorry for texting you now, I just have some questions if you don’t mind :) Congrats on winning Finals by the way, it was a great game.
You anxiously wait for his reply that you received not even a minute after you sent your text. 
[11:08pm] K. Taehyung: hi __ HAHAHHA im a bit surprised to see your name on my phone!! we’ve never gotten around having that coffee 😅 but thank you for the congrats! hit me with those questions i don’t mind  [11:09pm] You: It’s a real bummer that we’ve both been so busy ):  [11:10pm] You: But I was wondering if you know where Jungkook is? Last week he lent me a jacket when he saw me pour a drink on myself at some cafe, haha. So I was thinking I should give it to him now but I have no idea how to
Listen, it wasn’t the whole truth, but it wasn’t a complete lie either. You indeed needed to find Jungkook, and he lent you a jacket weeks ago which you needed to return but you forgot about it and conveniently remembered it just earlier when you were trying to conjure up an excuse to see him.
[11:10pm] K. Taehyung: oh i was actually just talking to him awhile ago. he wouldn’t go to the after-game party. said he was gonna stay up all night to play overwatch or something  [11:10pm] K. Taehyung: I can text you his address if you want to come over like right now
You feel like you aren’t supposed to just give your friends’ addresses away like that but it is flattering to think that Taehyung must trust you enough to not assume you were a psychopath serial killer or something. 
[11:11pm] You: Yes, please. Thank you so much, Taehyung. Catch up on that coffee hang another time
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You got an Uber to drive to his place. You tried not to think too much about the fancy complex and how there were elevators instead of just stairs like yours but you managed to get to Jungkook’s place through Taehyung’s text. 
You pressed a button upside the knob. It created a loud buzz and you tighten your fingers around the ribbon handles of the paper bag that got his jacket inside. 
It was the perfect excuse. You did need to return it to him. And if you got too flustered or scared to talk to him further, you were just going to leave right after he takes it from you and just accept the fact that he probably really hates you now because you were mean and—
The door opens, revealing Jungkook. A shirtless, wet Jungkook. 
“Oh." 
Jungkook has a hint of shock in his eyes when he comes face to face with you. You’ve never been here, for the record. And he was probably wondering how the hell you got his address.
"Uh,” you start. You thrust the paper bag towards him. “Here. It’s your jacket from weeks ago. I washed it already. Thanks for lending me it.”
You see his hesitation when he takes it from you, and it makes your nerves go haywire. 
Jungkook mumbled a little thanks. He stood there for a moment, probably still not getting the shock out of his system. As each second passed, you felt the need and the urge to go, but his voice cut that idea in your head.
“Uh. Do you wanna come in?" 
"Yes.” Maybe it was too much of an immediate answer, but you needed to. If you were to stand outside much longer, your courage will wear down and you might miss an opportunity to talk to him. 
Jungkook stepped aside and further invited you in. Your steps were a little shy as you followed him inside, watching as he took a pair of Nike sliders and offered it to you as you removed your birkens off your feet.
“Thank you.” You tell him, sliding your feet on the slippers that were definitely too big for you. 
He gave you a small smile in return. That gave you a bit of hope that it would go well tonight. 
“I’m just gonna go and change into something. You can sit here,” You followed behind him into the living room of his rather huge flat. Really, this was more of a condo unit than an apartment. “There's– sorry. I wasn't– it’s kind of messy here right now but I was busy the past few days. It’s not usually like this here." 
Jungkook hastily arranged the scattered throw pillows on the couch. You even hear him hissed as he picked up a bowl and some take-out trash on the coffee table. He reached for something in the tight corner of the couch, holding up a remote awkwardly for you.
He quickly looked away from you though, turning to his huge TV (it was literally a jumbotron) and making it light up. It showed some kind of game on pause.
"I’m sorry, I was playing something earlier. Uh, do you want to play anything? I have a lot of games.” He continued to say.
And you realized Jungkook was panicking. He was rambling, talking words over his own words, jumping from one thing to another and hastily cleaning up the space in the living room.  
It was… adorable. The way he was kind of scrambling… to accommodate you? Eh. But it was nice. Nice to know that you aren’t the only one panicking.
“Thanks for the offer, but I don’t really play anything.” You say honestly. You don’t like gaming. It’s stressful. 
“Oh…” Jungkook trails off then his eyes set on the kitchen. “Oh shit wait, do you want water? Tea? I don’t think I have tea but I think I can look for something?" 
You couldn’t help the laugh that came out from your mouth but you quickly cut yourself off. 
"Sorry. Uhm. No. I don’t want anything.” Truthfully, you wanted water but Jungkook needed to change into something immediately. You may not exactly be talking talking right now but his body and tattoos were nice to look at and you didn’t want it to distract you too much. It felt wrong to admire him like that when you were not exactly in great terms. 
“You sure?” When you nodded, Jungkook did the same too, but more like to himself. “Okay. I’ll just get to my room." 
You sat on his nice leather couch and looked around as Jungkook changed.
It was such a nice place. You could see that it was indeed expensive. The space was definitely, like, three times larger than your own and it even seemed to have another room on the far end. You didn’t know if Jungkook lived alone, he never mentioned anything about it. 
You still didn’t find yourself completely relaxed as Jungkook emerged from his room. 
The fringe of his bangs are still wet from his shower, but he’s now changed into a grey hoodie with matching shorts. 
"Hey,” he said as he walked towards you and sat on the couch. The distance was far but not totally that you end up being on the opposite sides. 
“Hi,” you greeted him back. “You have a nice place." 
He smiles. "Thank you." 
The atmosphere was incredibly awkward, you could feel that. But you pushed yourself to go through it. 
"Congrats on the game earlier.” You tell him sincerely. 
“Ah… thanks." 
"I went there." 
"Really?” You could see the understandable surprise in his face after hearing your words. “I didn’t see you." 
You chuckle lightly. "Hm. You were too serious and busy in the court to see me.”
Jungkook shyly looks away. 
“I– well. You should have told me. I could’ve gotten you a nice seat. Did you get a nice seat?” The sentiment was cute but surprising at the same time. After that time in the library, you wouldn’t have expected him to get you a nice seat. 
“It was okay." 
It didn’t look like he would say anything more, but you were a little relieved to have a break from the atmosphere when the door buzzed again, indicating someone coming. 
You feel your heart jump.
You didn’t know why your mind went to such dark places like him having someone over to do– what? Ugh. Jungkook wouldn’t do that, would he? Honesty was what you agreed on when you started this agreement. You promised to tell each other right away if you start sleeping with other people because of health reasons. 
"That must be the pizza.” Jungkook murmurs as he stands up.
You almost sigh in relief.
Okay. So no other women coming over. 
Jungkook comes back a moment later with three boxes. 
“I thought we could eat something,” he said as he sat on the couch again, this time a little closer than earlier. He looked at the TV, still on that game he was playing. He placed the pizza on the table and took the remote to exit out of his game, pressing some buttons on it and eventually the screen loaded to Netflix. “You wanna watch something?" 
That would be nice, actually. 
"Yep." 
"Okay… uh. Legally Blonde?" 
You couldn’t help your eyebrow from raising. 
Jungkook laughs a little. You’re a little surprised to hear it. It felt like eons ago since you’ve heard it.
"I like it a lot.” He shrugged and then looked it up on Netflix, clicked the movie poster and pressed play.
You start eating the pizza on the couch. You were obsessed with Legally Blonde probably an abnormal amount but this time, its entertainment didn’t affect you full force because at the back of your head, you’re still trying to figure out how to speak up the words you really wanted to say to Jungkook. 
“Hey…” you suddenly speak. You hesitate for a while but then let out a heavy breath. Jungkook looks at you because of that. “I’m sorry." 
His confusion was anticipated. He face looks like he was ready to ask, but you continue, 
"About the other night. Uh. When you went over. I’m sorry. I made you feel like I didn’t care but…” you train your gaze to the remote on the corner of the couch. “But I do, Jungkook. I care about you. It’s just that, it freaked me out, you know? People never felt comfortable enough with me to share such personal things and I’ve always been okay with that because I’m not exactly—” you cut yourself off, trying to organize your thoughts. But you give up because there was no use in doing such. You wanted to be honest as much as possible. “I know I don’t exactly strike people as someone who can care. And, well, that’s true, you know? People always tell me that I almost function like a robot. So, uh, I freaked out, because I thought you trusted me enough to do that and I felt like I didn’t deserve it, your trust I mean. And so I acted like that because I didn’t know what—”
“Hey,” Jungkook stopped you before you could go on a full spiral. You didn’t notice because of your rambling earlier but he was closer this time. “Breathe. It’s fine. I have all the time to listen to you." 
It was such a sweet sentiment, paired with his charming smile. You feel your heart jump and look away from his gaze. 
"Baby," 
There. He’s calling you that name again. Has he forgiven you? Were you both on that terms again? But he couldn’t have forgiven you that fast! 
"Baby, look at me,” you did, because he held your face in his warm hands, making you look at him. You could feel your cheeks tingle in his hold. “I’m actually so glad you came here tonight. I appreciate your apology, and I accept it.” He says, voice sounding so sincere.
You looked down, feeling like you don’t deserve it at all. 
“I’ve been thinking, you know?” Jungkook lifts your chin up with his fingers, smiling, such mirth behind it that you think he was probably thinking you were going to tease him about his words. But you didn’t feel like joking with him right now. “I totally didn’t think things through that night. I shouldn’t have told you all about my personal drama—"
Oh, no. That’s exactly what you thought you made him feel that night, and for him to verbalize it, it hurts you. Because you knew you truly made him feel that way. It wasn’t your intention but you knew your reaction –or lack thereof– threw him off. 
"No, no. I should have—" 
"No, ___, I shouldn’t have dumped all of that onto you expecting you to have a say about it and be disappointed and extremely hurt when you didn’t. We don’t know each other a lot, I know that." He gives you a sheepish smile. "I guess I just... I wanted us to know each other a little better you know? But I must’ve freaked you out instead and made you uncomfortable with me telling you all about those when we made it clear that this relationship was never going to be like that, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry for dumping. I kind of… realized that... maybe you just wanted some lazy time with me that night. So I’m sorry. I believe you're also apologetic about it, but I’m saying don’t be. It was all on me." 
Jungkook’s words were a jumbled mess in your head that you were surprised to even get them. 
"I–no, no. Kook– I… told you, I care about you. I—” you felt a metaphorical block in your head, and it made you cut yourself off. But then you remember his words and so you continue, “I didn’t just– look. It was unexpected, and I told you I just freaked out because I didn’t know where we stood and I just felt like I wasn’t deserving to know you like that. But I care a lot about you.”
Jungkook was quiet for a while, and you feared he was contemplating and thinking you were just lying to get over everything with. But then his face softens at your words. “I care a lot about you, too,” He says, and then it contorts a little, as if he remembered something. “That’s why I’m also… I’m also sorry about that time at the library. I was a complete asshole to you. I wanted to be mean because I was hurt but none of it was your fault. I really am sorry." 
Your head takes you back to that time in the library. He did hurt you with the harsh words he’d spoken, but his apology sounded sincere and you believe it. 
"Yeah. Uhm. I’m sorry about cornering you there. I should’ve texted you that I wanted to talk but I wasn’t sure if you were going to reply." 
Jungkook looked a little shameful for reasons that you couldn’t think of. 
"I’m sorry about that. I acted like such a boy about the whole thing. You don’t deserve to be ghosted suddenly because you hurt my feelings without you even really knowing why. I should’ve talked to you properly." 
You bite your lip, feeling like you were suddenly going to cry.
You know it was the bare minimum, and even though he said you had nothing to be sorry about, you still feel oddly emotional about someone apologizing to you. You’d never been apologized to sincerely even when a lot of people have done you wrong and hurt you before. They always thought you didn’t care or just got over things quickly because apparently, people had the impression that you weren’t the type to feel anything. 
"I like you a lot.” You blurt out. 
It was stupid. It was so stupid to say that in the middle of this conversation, but your mouth was running faster than your brain and you couldn’t help it. 
“Really?” Jungkook grins, and it was quite big. Your heart beats faster in your chest. “I really like you, too. Like, a lot. Probably more than you do.”
You meet his eyes finally. They hold such fondness for you, and you’ve always noticed. But you brush it away just as it shows. Regular, old, __. Always pushing away people who like her.
Right now, you’re berating yourself for pointedly ignoring that before, but his dark eyes serve as a distraction. They were so ominous and so big and looked like they had the stars in them. And he was so handsome. Suddenly, your gaze falls to his lips and quickly trains to the mole under the bottom one. You’ve always wanted to kiss it but never did so because… because, well. It would be weird, right? But then you remember that Jungkook always kisses that mole in between your chest... 
You blush at the thought and look away. 
“That’s nice.” You said, not really knowing how to respond. 
Jungkook chuckled and twisted himself to look forward again, at the TV playing Legally Blonde. 
It was like that for a while and you found that the weight you’ve been carrying all week on your back felt like it’s been lifted, finally. 
This night was going really, really well. 
And so well it went.
Legally Blonde ended and you and Jungkook somehow ended up being closer. So close that his arm just found its way around your shoulders, your leg across his, his other arm wrapped around that leg to pull you impossibly closer to him onto the next film. 
It’s been half an hour into the new movie but if you were honest, your brain wasn’t really on it. It was on how Jungkook held you delicately, his mouth pressing kisses on the crown of your head occasionally, almost absentmindedly. Your thoughts were filled with the soft, gentle caresses of his hand on your leg, and how you would feel his eyes even when you weren’t looking. It was all so tender and just so, so incredibly nice. 
When you yawned, Jungkook immediately checked on you with a light chuckle. 
“Sleepy?” He asks. 
You shake your head but another yawn forced its way out of your mouth again. You let your head fall dramatically on his chest as he laughed. 
“I gotta go…” you said, thinking that it’s probably late as hell and dark outside. But you found that you really didn’t want to. The material of his hoodie was so soft and his presence was so calming and it sounded undeniably cheesy but you wanted to be held by him a little more. 
“You could stay." 
That made you look up at him. 
"Huh?" 
"You can stay here, if you want. Sleep over." 
"Oh." 
A flash of hesitation on his beautiful face.
"Only if you want to, of course. I’ll drive you home if you wanna go.” He offers quickly, as if embarrassed to even suggest the thing he said earlier. 
But you did want to stay. But… he never stayed over at your place. You didn’t let him and he never expressed a little bit of desire to do so, anyway. Would it be unfair if he never slept over at yours but you would at his now? What did your conversation today change? When he said “I like you”, did that mean it was okay for you to stay the night? 
“Uhm, I’d like to stay here, if it’s okay with you.” You said, throwing your inhibitions away. There was no room for more denials in your heart. 
Jungkook’s bright grin made your worries subside. He definitely wants you to stay as much as you do. 
“Okay." 
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"It’s okay for you? Sorry, I don’t have a lot of pillows…” Jungkook rubbed the back of his neck and looked at you sheepishly. 
You waved him off. “It’s fine. Hey, come here now." 
Jungkook did a poor job of hiding a big grin again as he slid on the bed with you.
When you twisted yourself so your back was facing him, about to reach for your phone on the night stand to see if Nayeon replied to your text telling her you wouldn’t be home until morning, Jungkook also did the same and wrapped his arm around your waist, basically spooning you. 
And you realized that oh, he’d mistaken you for wanting to be a little spoon… 
But it was cute. And you really like him holding you, so you pretended it was your intention all along and mentally noted to check your phone tomorrow morning.
"You smell good.” He said against your ear. You smiled at the way it tickled a bit.
“I don’t think I do anymore, but thanks.”
You showered right after coming home as the game ended but that was many hours ago, so surely Jungkook must just be speaking nonsense. And anyway, he was the one who smelled nice because he did just get out of the shower. He smelled like that certain apple scent he always did. 
“No, really. Like flowers. I always liked that about you." 
"Eh, it’s probably just my bath and body works body wash." 
"Really?” You felt him sniff up your arm and you giggled. That reaction encouraged him to do it more until his nose reached your armpit. It tickled so much that you thrashed and turned and bit his arm. His laughter got louder as you did so, but you only pouted at him. 
“Okay, sorry, sorry,” Jungkook said but he didn’t look like it. You didn’t expect it but he suddenly kissed your forehead. Your eyes reflexively closed at the feel of his lips on your skin. 
You open them once again only to see Jungkook staring into your eyes again, quite intensely that you feel like he was there looking right into your soul. 
“I missed you.” He whispered, his hand that was around your waist tightening, the other clearing up your face from stray hairs. 
“I really missed you too.” you said as sincerely as you could. Because you really did, and you hope he could feel it and believe it just like you did his words. 
A few seconds after and then his lips finally touched yours and it was such a relief that you sighed against them. It was a slow kiss. Sweet and too short but you didn’t really mind when Jungkook looked at you again like you hung the stars in the sky. 
“Let’s sleep baby, turn around for me again.” He said and you wanted to reprimand him for ordering you around but you didn’t really feel like you needed to. You didn’t really have complaints about being the little spoon in this cuddling session, anyway.
It was only about a minute of silence when Jungkook suddenly spoke.
“Babe, I know I’m probably going to ruin this wholesome moment but can I hold your boob while we try to sleep?" 
And you couldn’t help but laugh because who wouldn’t. 
"Go for it.” You said, settling against his chest, getting more comfortable. Jungkook was only too happy to let you, letting out a low happy hum as he held you tighter, another hand wandering inside the worn out shirt you were wearing that he lent you for the night. 
The contact was cold to the touch at first, but when he gave you a squeeze and finally rested his hand over there, it got warm eventually.
Having a weight on top of your boob while sleeping was definitely a new concept for you, but you found that it was oddly comforting.
There was nothing sexual to it, not really. And you thought Jungkook didn’t really have any sexual intentions to begin with. 
It was just nice to have his hand on your breast. 
“So soft,” Jungkook whispered at some point and you just chuckled in between putting yourself in slumber.
It’s been hard to settle in bed peacefully the previous nights after that debacle weeks ago, but that moment, you slid to dreamland quite easily; and you were certain it was due to Jungkook’s warm body all over yours.
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EPILOGUE
( ONE MONTH LATER )
You have awoken in a feverish feeling brought by the dream of a certain man drawing all kinds of shapes on your clit with his skillful tongue. At first, the sensation felt far away, like it was just a distant memory, but you suddenly feel a seemingly too real grip on your thighs and a tentative swipe over the length of your nether region. 
When you blearily open your eyes, the sunlight intruding through the seams of your room, you caught a sight of a very real man’s head in between your legs, his dark hair pulled by a headband as he determinedly pleasures your pussy.  
“Jungkook,” you sigh, blindingly reaching for his head. 
He hums in your pussy, and it sends a jolt right up your spine. He felt you jumping a little, and that earned a chuckle from him. The vibration of it in your aching heat made your legs quiver. 
“Good morning, baby." 
It was a little disorienting to wake up to Jungkook eating you out so early in the morning, but the pleasure overrode it as you throw your head back on your soft pillows, twisting your face to the side and burying it on the fluffy material as Jungkook sucks on your clit, his finger teasing over the lips of your pussy. 
”Ah, that feels so good…" you moan, thrashing on the bed at the delight brought by his tongue. But Jungkook’s strong hold kept your legs wide for him to have complete access to your wet cunt which he’s licking like it was a meal he’s always wanted to have. 
“Wanna make you feel good,” he said, beginning to place open mouthed kisses on your pussy that delivered delirious shivers all over your body. He emphasized his sentiment by bringing two fingers in your hole, sliding them in and out quite easily as you felt yourself gushing every second from his actions. “So wet. You love this, angel? You like what I’m doing?" 
All you could give him was a pathetic little whimper that you hope he understood as he didn’t bother to wait for your response and proceeded to wrap his mouth on your clit again, his tongue flicking the sensitive bud with the steady way his fingers slipped in and out of you, lewd squelches filling the otherwise quiet room except for the chirping bird outside.
And it sounded oddly poetic. 
So peaceful. Oh, to wake up like this everyday. 
Your grasp on his hair tightened, bringing his face closer to your pussy that you even got a hold of his headband, but you didn’t care. All you could think about was how delicious Jungkook is speeding his fingers in your entrance, long and bony digits touching every ridge of your pussy, slowly but surely sending you to your edge. Your breath quickened every second passed, and now you could say you were fully awake. 
Jungkook broke away from you and you were just about to reprimand him about it when he suddenly licked a long, slow stripe over the wet length of your entrance and you cried out.
You were nearly brought to tears when he dove in your core again to repeat his actions from earlier, but this time, he went for messy. So sloppy; his head moving around your pussy, sucking your juices with enthusiasm and making your arch your back on the mattress, his finger rubbing your clit to bring you to your orgasm. 
And he did successfully bring you to it. He did with what seemed to sound like a painful groan of your name from his throat, a husky sound that made your pussy and legs quiver. But that didn’t stop Jungkook from lapping at the cum that dripped out. 
You let out a big breath, making yourself bounce on the bed as you fell to it. Exhausted. Spent. 
"Kook,” you nudged Jungkook with your foot to his bicep because he was doing that thing again. 
“Wanna clean you up." 
You roll your eyes. It was so counterproductive but you let him be for awhile, relaxing on your back as he quite literally slurped the gush that came and is still coming out from you. That was why him "cleaning you up” was useless. 
“Let me suck your cock.” You said, nudging him again. Jungkook peeled his head from between your legs and looked at you, and you nearly moaned at finally seeing his face. He looked insanely hot with his hair around his sweaty hearline pulled by that head band, but the sheen gloss all over his mouth to his chin made you feel just a little shy. 
“Really?” Jungkook asked again, eyes wide, like he was a kid about to receive his gifts from Santa on Christmas morning.
You only hummed, bringing your body in a sitting position. Jungkook grabbed your waist, about to kiss you, but you pushed him on the bed and slid your leg over his thighs, leaning down to make quick work of pulling his boxers down that had a little wet patch on the front and a huge boner that was just begging to be freed. 
Jungkook sighed when you get a hold of his length, not wasting time to tease because as much as you wanted to, you were impatient to taste him and make him cum. 
“F-fuck,” Jungkook curses as you pumped his cock, your thumb pressing on his leaking tip. “You’re so pretty, baby."
His groan is elongated as you finally put him in your mouth. You make yourself comfortable by kneeling inside his spread legs, leaning down closer to his crotch and twisting your head to the side so that you could gather your hair in one side. It was always hard to reach deep, but you make do of your hand, twisting your fingers around the remaining length that your mouth could not take. 
It didn’t take too long for Jungkook to shake and start speaking sweet nonsense in the wake of his impending orgasm, probably because he had been holding back since he ate you out. But you worked as hard, sucking on his tip, brushing your fingers over his balls here and there, pumping his wet cock in your hand, ignoring the tears that’s forming in the corners of your eyes. 
“Baby, I’m cumming,” he warned, holding the back of your head to try and get you off but you insisted and let him release in your mouth. 
Jungkook hissed, and you leaned back to jerk his cock for any more cum, swallowing the one in your mouth that you felt had gotten to some parts of your face so you try to lick over your mouth, tasting cum there. He was still cumming, though, just a little, it spurting on your chest and chin. 
You giggled as Jungkook groaned. When you were sure you milked him dry, you let yourself flop on his naked body, draping yourself over it even though he was kind of sweaty and sticky… but you don’t really mind. You were just gonna shower later. 
“You’re a minx.” He said, chuckling, his arm going around your waist and the other resting over one bare ass cheek. 
“I live to make you suffer.” you replied, rubbing your cheek against his chest then pressing kisses to it. 
“You’re winning." 
That made you laugh. 
After a while, you remove your head on his chest and look down on him. He arches a brow, waiting. And then you dropped your mouth to the mole under his bottom lip. You giggled because Jungkook wasn’t expecting it, shown by the confusion on his face. Before he could say anything, you lock your lips with his, sighing when he reciprocated your kiss right away. 
The kiss takes a U-turn as Jungkook flipped you over so he was the one hovering over you now, hands roaming around your body sending tingles all over your spine to your toes and heat between your legs as he squeezed your breasts. 
He squished the both of them in his huge palms, and you feel his cock twitch against your thigh when he did so, so as the gush of wetness coming from your pussy as he finally dropped his mouth to suck on your pebbled nipples. 
”___, are you—oh my god I’m so sorry!“
Jungkook and you quickly looked over your door, catching Nayeon just as she scrambled to close it. 
"Shit.” You hissed.
Jungkook looked at you. And then you both get off of each other, him going for the sweats he’d folded on a swivel chair in your room, and you putting on your robe and messily tying your hair in a bun with a hair tie. 
“I’m just gonna go outside and talk to her…” you trail off, watching as Jungkook puts his pants on. 
“Okay,” he went over to you, holding your face and leaning down to kiss you. “Sorry." 
You licked your lips as he broke the kiss, couldn’t help but smile.
"It’s fine." 
When you went out, Nayeon is at the kitchen drinking water. When she saw you, you gave her an awkward smile. 
She frowned. "I’m really so, so sorry, ___. I swear I didn’t know you had someone over. I just got back from the overnight study group I texted you about last night and it’s 8 am so I thought I could wake you up for class." 
You find yourself smiling genuinely at her explanation. You wave her off and went over to grab a drink of water as well. 
"It’s fine. Our prof actually emailed us last night that our 8 am class was gonna be cancelled today so technically my first class is gonna be at 10. But I’m also supposed to be getting ready, so…" 
Nayeon hummed and drank more of her water.
You were just waiting for it. You knew she was so gonna ask you about it. You were kind of nervous but you found that you actually didn’t care that much to tell her all about Jungkook. 
So when she finally did ask, you only looked sheepish. 
"So, Jeon Jungkook, huh?" 
You nod.
"I should’ve known!” Nayeon exclaimed. “You were suddenly interested about basketball and– no, I’m not gonna lie. I did not expect that." 
You bit your lip as you hid half of your face behind the rim of the glass. "Yeah…" 
Nayeon suddenly narrowed her eyes at you, and you hold yourself to prepare for what’s next. 
"He was your sneaky link all this time?" 
Your eyes widened. "No!” But then you quickly remembered that, technically, he was. But… “but not really. I mean, not anymore?" 
You weren’t sure, though. Your relationship with Jungkook for the past month had undergone a shift. You were purely fuck buddies before, and now you fuck and see each other for more than that. You sleep over almost twice a week at his place, have movie nights. He let you know about this game Animal Crossing and you’ve been obsessed since so sometimes you really just go over his place to play it. (Your island was seriously becoming pretty.) Also, you started grabbing lunch regularly these days in his car and go on what you can call dates if both your schedule aligned and it’s not that you were actively keeping other people from knowing about this sudden change in your relationship, including Nayeon, it was just — your time together was really just spent for pure enjoyment with each other. It was just like: if people saw, then they do. 
Despite that, a label still wasn’t put to it. 
You don't mind.
"Oh, so–your boyfriend?!” Nayeon’s tone is laced with surprise, and you flinched at hearing the word boyfriend but you shrugged it off. 
“Uhm, it’s very new.” Was what you replied. It was the only thing you could offer, honestly. 
Your friend looked at you for a few seconds and then nods, as if understanding – what? you have no idea – and then turned to the direction to your room. 
You see Jungkook popping out from your door when you looked over. 
“Hi, Nayeon." 
When he emerged, he’s fully dressed and it was a bummer that he’d taken out his head band. Whatever, you’d make him wear it later. It was really cute when he wore it. 
"Ohh, here comes the sexy man." 
The casualty of it threw you off a bit but then you suddenly feel grateful to Nayeon for not making a big deal about the whole thing.
So you laughed and joked, "Don’t say that! You’re going to stroke his ego." 
Nayeon’s right eyebrow raised. "Oh, his ego is definitely getting stroked, alright." 
Even Jungkook burst out laughing at the crude implications of her words, and you found the whole thing atrocious. Nayeon only shook her head, but she was smiling. 
"Sorry for interrupting your time together, lovebirds. I brought something for breakfast but I don’t think it’ll be enough for two people.” She said, pointing towards a take-out bag on the kitchen counter. 
“It’s fine, thanks Nayeon." 
She waved you off. "I’ll just be in my room. Eat first before you do cardio, guys." 
You huff out a laugh at her words again, and so did Jungkook. He walked towards you as Nayeon disappeared in her room, and you smiled at him as he did so. 
Jungkook held your waist and pressed you a little to the refrigerator, but you have no complaints in the way he leaned down to share a slow and soft kiss with you. 
"Breakfast?” He whispered, kissing your cheek. And then your nose. 
You giggled, circling your arms around his neck. He hummed at the contact, like he’s always so content and peaceful whenever you touch him.
“I think I’ll just get coffee on my way to Uni.” you told him. 
That made him frown, though. “That’s really not…” you arched your brow as you wait for him to finish his words. He sighed. “Okay. But at least eat some toast? I’ll make it for you." 
You nod. "Okay. I’m gonna go shower first, though. I stink." 
As if prompted, Jungkook quickly buried his face to the crook of your neck and whiffed out your scent, dramatically smelling you and then peeling his face away, saying, "Nope, still smell like flowers to me. But I agree, we need a shower." 
"We?" 
He gives you a serious look. "Yes. Water conservation is one of my goals this year." 
You jab on his chest lightly. So stupid. But so handsome and cute that you can’t help but pull him close to you and kiss him again. 
Suddenly, Jungkook grabbed your thighs and make you hold on to him as he carried you across the living room. You stopped your own squeal before you could scare Nayeon with it. Jungkook laughed at that and you slap his chest in retaliation.
He went straight to the bathroom and put you on the counter with all the intentions to keep making out with you by the way he was swirling his tongue deliciously against yours, hands squeezing your sides. 
But you really had to shower. 
He whined when you put your hands on his shoulders and broke free from his kiss, pushing him away a little. 
"Don’t be a baby. Let’s shower,” you said, giving him a stern look. He looked petulant for a while, but then suddenly smirked. You narrowed your eyes, pretty sure he had dirty things in his head right now. “No funny business. You literally have class in an hour." 
"I could make you cum in less than that." 
"Jungkook!" 
He laughed, kissing you. "I’m kidding.”
“Behave. Nayeon is here." 
He only nodded and began taking his clothes off. You also removed your robe from your body, going over to the towel rack to hang it there. Jungkook stopped in his tracks and shamelessly ogled your naked form and you rolled your eyes, not waiting for him as you stepped in the shower first. He followed right after, smiling at you as he offered to wash your body. 
Jungkook assured you he had no funny business in mind, but you didn’t really mind when his hands suddenly got grabby, when he told you that his hands could lather your body wash more effectively than your loofah just so he could massage your boobs in his soapy palms, staying a little too long over there. But you didn’t complain when his finger ghosted over your pussy, and you absolutely weren’t mad when he kissed you hotly as the shower ran and water soaked the soap suds out of your body. 
In fact, you enjoyed it a lot when he pressed you against the wall while his strong arms held you tight as he fucked you open, gasping in your mouth, grunting about how pretty you were and how much you were such a good girl for him. 
He spoke more nonsense in your ear when he turned you around, an arm tight around your breasts, his other hand gripping your waist as he slid his engorged cock in and out of you from behind while you tried to minimize the sound of your cries until you both came. 
You know Jungkook knew his goal to conserve water was doomed from the very start, especially when you ended up taking a second shower because you felt sticky and just unclean. 
But it felt great to come out of the bathroom and have Jungkook dressed the same time as you with the clothes he left in your closet from the other times he’s spent over here. 
"I’ll see you later.” He pressed a quick kiss on your mouth. 
“Okay,” he smiled and you failed to resist the urge to kiss him again for the last time. “I’m coming over to play Animal Crossing." 
"You only like me for my Nintendo…” Jungkook jokingly narrowed his eyes at you and you laughed. 
“It took you a long time to figure out?”
Jungkook pouts. “As long as you curl up in my lap while you play it, I can accept that.”
“You’re cute, baby. But you’re late to class, go scram.” You shooed him and he chuckled. 
“Okay, kiss me again?” You did. Jungkook smiled and kissed you but on the forehead this time. “Bye, pretty." 
You leaned on the doorframe, arms crossed as you watched him slowly disappear from your pathway with (certainly) a fond look on your face. 
Blurring the lines with your fuck buddy might be cliche, and confronting it might have been hard, but you did it. And he was just as willing and honest with you about his feelings.
And it was worth it.
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nereidprinc3ss · 21 days
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come on home
in which the only person who can comfort you after your breakup with spencer reid, is spencer reid
inspired by the song "summer's end" by the artist currently known as phoebe bridgers
wc 2857
warnings: gn!reader (correct me if im wrong), minor mommy issues, angst, happy ending
a/n: thank you to the person who requested this:) u r an angel and I listened to this song the whole time i wrote (if you haven't heard, listen!!) i sincerely hope you enjoy, i like this one a lot<3
She hung up on you. 
Forty-seven minutes of being insulted and berated after you’d called her looking for comfort, and you put up with every single cruel word—just for your mother to hang up on you. And it’s exactly the kind of thing she’d do, so you shouldn’t be surprised. An ache, you’d expect—but it shouldn’t sting like this. You thought you knew better. 
Now you’re in a ball on your couch, clutching your phone to your chest and crying. There’s no point hiding it. Your roommate is out with her girlfriend for the evening—which is too bad because even though you feel like being alone, you’re sure that’s the wrong call. Your other friends are out having fun tonight, too. They’d even invited you, but you turned them down. Look where that had gotten you. Obviously, your mother is not the person you’re about to run to for comfort, either. 
You try to pretend, while you’re thinking of all these people who have ever cared for you, that Spencer Reid isn’t on your mind at all. You try to pretend like you don’t care that the person who loved you until you believed you actually deserved it is a contact going stale deep in the bowels of your text cache. With bleary eyes you scroll down, looking for your conversation where it gathers dust—the end of your relationship was a mutual decision, and you’re friendly, but you haven’t texted in a few weeks. Probably because every time the conversation starts to feel a little too easy, or the phone call lasts a little too long, that aching void in your chest gets worse and worse. Like pain in a phantom limb, you become acutely aware of what you do not have and how much it hurts.  
So blame it on the tears, or the mind-muddling melodrama of your relationship with your mother, blame it on anything but the truth—when your thumb drops on that call button like the plunger on a syringe, you don’t regret it.  
What you’re not expecting is for him to answer after the first ring. 
“Hi,” you say with a snuffle before Spencer can get a word in. There’s a brief interlude, in which you pick at your nails, comfortable to just sit in silence if that’s what he wants. As long as he’s there. 
“Hi.” Hearing his voice instantly melts a bit of the weight you hadn’t realized you were carrying. Another pause, for which you remain silent, because you can feel him formulating a question—and you’d like to hear him speak again. “...am I allowed to ask if you’re okay?” 
Your lips purse and twist to the side, pained and comforted by how easily he can tell that you’re distraught. One word across a tinny connection, and he knows. 
“No. Yes. I mean... I guess that’s why I called you. But you don’t have to ask me about it.” You sniff again and take a deep breath. “How was your day? What state are you in?” 
“I’m in the district,” he answers after a moment, easing into a casualness that he likely doesn’t feel for your sake. Wind crunches through the speaker. He probably just got out of work. “My day was... it was good. I got to talk about my job to a bunch of elementary schoolers, which is always a confidence boost.” 
You chuckle, still laying on your side on the couch and watching storm clouds gathering outside. 
“Nice, nice. What else?” 
“Let’s see... I forgot lunch, so I had three oranges, and they were actually pretty good. I reread Game of Thrones—I don’t know why I did that. I’m never going to like that book.” 
“Masochist,” you smile. He laughs, and you hear the sound of a car door opening. 
“Oh! I talked to my mom. Believe it or not, she says hi.” 
A completely inadvertent snort constitutes your response. It’s not what you meant to do, and out of context it’s sort of mean, but you actually think it’s incredibly endearing that he still talks to his mother about you. He scrambles to explain himself. 
“I swear, we barely talked about you this time. Mostly we talked about her new boyfriend Leonard.” 
“No, no, that’s not... I’m sorry, I’m not laughing at you or your mom. That’s really sweet, actually. Tell her I say hi too.” 
When he next speaks, you can hear the smile in his voice. 
“I will.” Another long pause. You imagine him sitting in the parking lot at Quantico, keys vertical in the ignition of his old car and feeling the silence just as much as you are. He surprises you by not ending the conversation—instead he asks a question. It is concern, poorly disguised with nervous humor. Or maybe you just know him too well. “Do I get to find out what’s on your mind, or are you leaving me in suspense here?”  
You bite the inside of your cheek. 
“Um... well, actually, I just got off the phone with my mom, too. It didn’t go so well,” you laugh halfheartedly, “I know it was dumb to try and have an actual conversation with her, but... you know me. Always following blind optimism to the depths of hell.” 
“Why’d you call your mom?” he asks, so gently it brings a fresh round of tears to your eyes. Still, you attempt to put a cheerful affect on your strained voice. 
“Mm, you know. Just needed someone to talk to.” 
Spencer’s knowing sigh does little to make you feel better. 
“You know you can always talk to me, right? I know it’s... it’s different now, but... I care about you a lot. And, you know, I receive very few phone calls, so the line is pretty much always open.” 
Your laugh quickly devolves into a cry. 
“I appreciate that, but I can’t talk to you about everything.” 
“Why not?” he pleads immediately, voice thin and desperate like it’s his most burning question. A million lies dance over the tip of your tongue. A million things that feel safer to say than the truth. But in the end, it comes out anyway—choked, and so quiet, but aloud nonetheless. 
“Because I’m trying really hard to stop missing you so much.” 
Another long beat of silence. The back of your throat feels dry and hollow—a cage for your hummingbird heart. 
“If it hurts too much to talk to me, you don’t need to do that to yourself. But I also don’t want you to hurt yourself thinking you’re alone. You are... so important to me. I will always try to take care of you the best I can—whether that means staying away or being at your front door. If you ever need me, or even... vaguely want me, I will be there.” 
Each word caves your resolve. Each syllable is a slap in the face to progress you’d been pretending to make. You can be strong—you've proven that over the past ten weeks. You can be stone-faced and slash at your heart until the scar tissue is thick and jagged, and eventually it won’t hurt anymore. But maybe, by letting someone tend to the wounds, they’ll heal a little nicer. A little kinder. Even if you can’t undo the damage, maybe one day you’ll be soft again. 
“What if I vaguely want you right now?” you sniffle. 
Finally, you hear the silver jingle of keys turning. The sputter and rumble of an old engine coming to life. 
“Then I’m on my way.” 
Twenty four minutes later, there’s a soft knock at your door.  
After the call had ended, you’d wondered if you made it all up. Surely your ex-boyfriend wasn’t actually about to show up at your apartment. Someone you’ve grieved for can’t just come back—there are countless horror novels and movies based upon that very tenet. Does it matter if they ever actually died? How long is ten weeks, really? It feels like a lifetime. 
You shuffle across the room, wiping under your eyes with your already damp sleeves, and undoing all the locks Spencer had conditioned you to start using. When the door cracks open, and you see Spencer standing there, windswept and concerned, for the first time in months, it hits you like a tidal wave. You are, beyond a shadow of a doubt, still just as in love with him as you ever were. The relief that floods your veins as he looks down at you with so much care in his eyes is like sinking into warm water. It’s a dead giveaway, and maybe it makes this whole thing a terrible idea, but you can’t seem to care very much. You open the door wider, and he enters, and he stands in your kitchen with his hands in his coat pocket as you shut the door and he’s perfect. It dawns on you that for the first time since the breakup, you feel safe. Like you don’t have to be a stone pillar anymore. This, of course, translates into even more tears, which you try to hide as you face away, re-locking the door.  
“Sweetheart...” he sighs, because you can’t hide anything from him. Hearing the resonance of his voice so close to you once more is overwhelming. In an instant you’re rushing into his arms, and he accepts you without hesitation. You bury your teary face in the vetiver safety of his button-up and slip your arms under his coat, as if you could absorb his warmth and forever hide from the world that way. He pulls you even closer. It’s terrible and cruel how much he is exactly what you needed. “What’s wrong? What did she say?” 
You shake your head and gasp a small sob. 
Truthfully, you’re not really crying about the petty insults from your mother anymore. You’re back to square one, the reason you’d called your mother to begin with—you miss the man whose arms are currently wound around your shoulders. 
His hand smooths over the back of your hair. 
“Okay. That’s okay. We don’t have to talk about it.” 
You stay like that—content even as you cry because being with him feels so much safer than being alone. It feels right—or perhaps it’s just familiar. You don’t know which is worse.  
Spencer is rubbing soothing lines up and down your back as you cling to him, soaking him up in all his ephemeral, comforting glory. He surprises you by chuckling—it vibrates through his chest, buzzing against your ear. 
“Nice Magritte print. I bet the person who bought that has fantastic taste.” 
“Are you gonna ask for it back?” you mumble into the fabric of his suit jacket. He is, of course, referring to the painting you’d more or less stolen from his apartment seven months ago. You really don’t want him to take it home. It’s the most overt Spencer memorabilia you’d allowed yourself to keep in plain sight. 
“No, baby. You can keep it.” The words are low, and kind, and they settle you some, but you can’t seem to get him close enough. “What can I do?” he whispers after a moment, helpless as you take a shuddering breath. “Can I make you tea? Have you eaten?” 
“Will you just... stay for a little bit? I’ll—I promise I’ll stop crying.” 
There is an unexpected lull where you thought you’d receive pretty immediate agreement, but before you can pull back and ask what’s wrong, he murmurs, “yeah. I can stay for a while. But you have to kick me out before it gets too late.” 
You wonder if you’re imagining the double-entendre that seems to underline his words in bold red ink. Spencer is too smart to have not noticed a thing like that. You don’t mention it—it all boils down to the same unspoken idea. 
Don’t let me stay, because I might not leave. 
“I will,” you sniff, finally stepping back and wiping your own tears. It hurts to lose his touch, but at least you know he’s not going anywhere for the next few hours. This, as opposed to everything else lately, can be a beginning instead of an end.  
At least, until he goes home. 
Three and a half hours later, after tea, an impromptu dinner comprised mostly of cheese and crackers, and several vinyl changes on your record player (which served only as background noise for your long, ambling conversations), things are seeming to wind down to a natural stopping point. Which you hate. The whole time you’d had a dull ache in your chest because talking to him was easier than breathing and you knew it wouldn’t last. There had been one or two false bottoms already—the first when you’d yawned around nine, and the second when you’d gotten up to do your skincare and brush your teeth half an hour later. Even then he’d just leaned against the doorframe, watching your reflection above the sink as you talked for fifteen more minutes. Now you stand across from each other in the kitchen, plates restacked and everything in order. Of course he’d insisted on helping you clean up. 
“I should go,” he says, with a soft sort of finality in his voice.  
“Is your carriage turning into a pumpkin?” you tease gently, to hide how much you don’t want him to leave. He smiles—a small, weary thing—but genuinely and endlessly charmed by you. 
“That among other things.” 
“Would you—would you walk me to my room first?” 
The hesitance is clear in his eyes and the way his lips part as if to say, ‘I don’t think that’s a good idea’, but you're sure he’s really going to leave in a moment and you’re also sure he won’t deny you this one small thing before he does. 
“Okay.” 
It’s a short, silent walk through the living room and down the hall to your bedroom door, but you can feel him trailing behind you the whole way. You stop in front of your open door, turning face to face with him.  
“Thanks,” you murmur.  
His lips pull into a melancholy smile. 
“Anytime.” 
There’s nothing left to do but wrap your arms around each other once more, tuck yourself into the you-sized space between his head and shoulder and hold on for as long as he’ll let you. The hug lingers for longer than is wise. Spencer adjusts his arms looped around your waist, pulling you closer, and you nuzzle against his neck, grateful that at least he seems as reluctant to let this end as you are.  
But eventually, it relaxes. Your hold on each other loosens. His face is just inches from yours, and you get to study every plane and valley and line like you’d thought you never would again. It seems he’s doing the same—losing himself in the luxury of seeing you up close. 
“Will you kiss me goodnight?” you whisper, unable to muster any self-consciousness though you know it’s a fool’s errand. Spencer strokes your waist. 
“I can’t do that, honey.” 
“Why not?” 
His voice is just as quiet as yours. It falters slightly as he speaks, so gently, so patiently. 
“Because we’re not together anymore.” 
“Why not?” 
Your feeble, desperate supplication sounds pitiable even to you. You’re not proud, but you can’t find it in yourself to be ashamed, either. All you want is an answer. But it’s like a child asking why the sky is blue, or the earth is round. There is a definitive explanation, but mostly, the adult will shrug, and say, that’s just how it is. 
Spencer’s eyes squeeze shut. His head tilts down. 
“We can’t do this again, sweetheart. You know why we’re not together.” 
In theory—yes. You’d had so many conversations when you’d broken up. It had been a long, painful process, spanning multiple all-nighters at his kitchen table, nursing coffee and trying to convince each other and yourselves that it was the right choice. But it just feels like a horrible, horrible mistake. You feel desperate to explain this to him before he slips away again—the words come out flustered, inelegant as you cling to him.
“But I don’t think I’m getting better without you. I tried, I tried so hard to be good on my own, but everything is worse and harder and—and we weren’t sure about it then, and I don’t think it was the right choice, because I still really need you. Like, all the time. I’m—it’s not getting better without you. Nothing got better.” 
He swallows, eyes darting between yours for an infinite second. You’re breathless and your heart is pounding after your confession—you can feel your eyes stinging with the few tears that managed to escape as you spoke. 
“Everything is worse,” he agrees shakily. “Everything. I’m—I’m getting disciplinary infractions from Hotch like I’m a child because I can’t focus on anything. Game of Thrones is the most complex literature I can comprehend right now. I had to use a calculator the other day.” 
You want to laugh, but nothing is funny until he’s yours again. 
“Then come back. Please come back, Spencer.” 
Finally, he leans closer, until your heads are pressed together, and his nose bumps yours, feather light. You're dizzy. You exhale. He inhales. 
“I don’t think I knew how to leave in the first place.” 
When he kisses you, it feels like home. 
908 notes · View notes
pupcuck · 5 months
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LOVEY-DOVEY !
ft. leon s. kennedy x fem!reader
tags. ddlg, daddy dom/little girl duhh, leon feeling guilty for no reason, age gap, princess parts used once, an abundance of pet names, honestly just icky sappy smut, typical stuff like penetration n oral, praise kink
note. haiii :3 so insanely embarrassed to post this it’s insanely icky and soft for me .. but ignore typos as always :333 rbs n feedback greatly appreciated :33 crossposted on my ao3 clitkiss as usual, this is like very.. ddlg like he dresses u at one point but it’s only mentioned briefly
stocking filler
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You and Leon are trying something new. Now, he’s no stranger to it, his moonlight trysts with Pornhub show that he’s an expert at it in fact. But that was back in his late twenties. Op in Spain made his brain go funny, and maybe it’s ‘cause Ashley is the perfect subject for it - DDLG that is. She batted her lashes up at, clung to his arms, and she needed him, relied on him. In turn, he spent his days balls deep in videos like Daddy’s Little Girl Punished For Staying Up Past 8 PM, and even classier ones like Big Cock Daddy Fucks Tiny Tit Teen Girlfriend Till She Squirts (ANAL + THROATFUCKING)! Even the occasional Step-Daughter Chokes On Step-Daddy’s Fat Cock While Mommy Sleeps! Very tasteful, very nuanced, very discreet. So yeah, not to brag, but Leon’s kind of a porn connoisseur. Dabbled in every category.
The DDLG thing got boxed up and shelved away quick. Made him feel guilty, post-nut clarity set in the second he’d milked himself dry. Then he’d lay there for hours with a sticky palm and a heavy heart. Hasn’t thought about it in years, these days Leon’s more into Busty Dom Mommy Pegs Scrawny, Ugly, Sissy Slut In Business Suit! and if he’s really feeling up for it Stupid Fucking Bitch Takes Two Dicks At Once! The titular bitch actually only took one dick at a time despite the two dicks present, quite misleading in his humble opinion. No more creepy daddy stuff though. Those days are over; he hasn’t thought about it in twenty years give or take. Claire sent him this ‘Get porn sites taken down for women blah blah blah’ petition, he signed it, clicked out of the tab and got down to watching some silly slut get fucked within an inch of her life.
It’s more of a boredom thing. Honest. Leon watches porn to fill in gaps of space throughout his day; he nods his head thoughtfully when the man so affectionately titled Blue-Collar Bear slams into the Preppy Spoiled Twink. This is all getting away from him, the point is, Leon hasn’t thought about the dreaded topic of DDLG for literal decades. Then you walk in, and Leon’s sat there listening to you prattle on about Pompompurin and Chococat, an entire lineup of characters that he now knows off by heart.
Oh, is that right, sweetheart? Cinnamoroll’s a puppy, not a bunny? Wow, I didn’t know that, baby, fascinating ain’t it? Miffy‘s from the Netherlands, god, she’s gotta be careful over there in Amsterdam, honey. They don’t call that place Sin City for no reason, the red light district is no joke. Oh, I see, she’s from Utrecht? Ah, guess she’s safe then, I’m glad. What’s her name? That’s your favourite, Cogimyun? That’s a mouthful, ain’t it? She looks like a cloud. No? She's not? She’s a what-? Made of wheat flour? Oh! Well, that’s real funny, baby. Bet she don’t do well on windy days.
You don’t tell him outright. But he knows. Leon tries to tell himself that you’re just like this, that you buy cutesy, girly stickers to make yourself happy, that you fill his bedroom with soft toys ‘cause you simply like ‘em, turn them around when you fuck as a joke. But it’s clear, the headspace you’re left in after sex gives it away, haven’t let the D word slip so far, Leon’s banking on it being soon though.
He pets your head before you leave the house one day, you beam up at him, apples of your cheeks rounded with how hard you're smiling. “Love you, daddy!” You chirp all too loudly, jaw dropping open a moment later at your own blunder. Then you skitter out the front door unnervingly like a deer with CWD.
Called it. Made a bet on it even. Leon takes fifty out of his savings account, owes it to himself. You looked awful upset, he sends you a message, tells you to be safe, text him when you meet your friends. You do. Somehow, even the message is clipped. Poor baby, you’re embarrassed. The colour had drained from his face when you said it. You’d noticed for sure.
You’re younger than him, much younger. Too many years younger. An age gap that makes his head spin. Leon tries not to dwell on it, but it gets real hard. Claire’s always down his throat about it. When you go out in public together, he’ll sneak a hand in your back pocket and get stared down by every passer-by. He’s been asked if he’s your dad before. Blow to his ego. Considered botox and filler for the entirety of the following week. Certainly not your dad, possibly your daddy. Now you’ve cemented that in place - you want Leon to be your daddy, and he’ll fill those shoes.
Even if it leaves a bad taste on his tongue, even if it makes his skin crawl. Leon is willing to lay down his life for you half of the time, best thing that ever happened to him, so what harm is a little DDLG gonna do? He just needs to get comfortable with it, refamiliarise himself with all the lingo. How hard could it be? The guilt? He can get over it, even if it clings to him like a festering scab.
When you come back home it’s late, he barely hears your footsteps. You’ve learnt how to make yourself scarce when returning on late nights, Leon’s a light sleeper. A jumpy one at that. He smells jasmine when you pull back the covers, the mattress dips and he turns to face you.
“Fuck!” You gasp, brows pinched together, he runs his thumb over the divot that’s formed between them. “You scared me, Leon.”
“Not that ugly am I?” He juts his bottom lip out, it pulls a laugh out of you, and that makes him smile. You were emanating gloom and doom the second you stepped into the bedroom. Clear skies now.
“Never, you’re sooo handsome.” You kiss the tip of his nose, smear pink Vaseline on it.
“You know just what I wanna hear, don’t you, baby?” Apart from daddy. He’d make the joke, but you’d likely flip out. Leon shuts his mouth. He’s gotten better at doing that lately. Must be the effect you’ve had on him. “Baby?”
“Yes?”
“About today—“
“Leon.” It’s a warning.
“Baby.”
“Leon.” Clearly you want to brush it under the rug. “It was just a slip-up, I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, so can we just drop it?” Uh, woah, someone’s defensive.
“Baby, it didn’t make me uncomfortable,” Leon strokes your cheek, his cold hands warmed by the heat of your dewy skin. It made him mildly uncomfortable. That’s ‘cause he grapples with all these I’m a dirty old man that deserves to be crucified, Claire’s right I’m a fucking cradlerobber, I should let her go, I’ll be dead by the time she’s ready to get married thoughts. You’re this pretty young thing and it makes him tremendously nervous.
“I saw your face, Leon, I’m not stupid.” You’re getting huffy now, fluffing the pillows and turning away from him.
“Babe, I was just surprised, pinky promise.” Leon sticks his pinky finger into your line of sight, there’s silence, then the sheets ruffle and you’ve lifted your hand, shorter pinky wrapping around his.
“Like, pinky swear, Leon?” You sound so small, so scared, his heart aches.
“Baby,” he coos, “light of my life, angel, apple of my fuckin’ eye, sugar, dollface,” you hang onto every word, eyes getting bigger and wider by the second, “I knew the minute you showed me those Sylvanian Families.” You smack his chest and he laughs in your face.
“You’re an asshole and I hate you so much.” When he touches your cheek again, you’re burning up, he places a kiss behind your ear. “Stupid old man.”
“C’mon, baby, you think I’m dumb? You gave them names.” The Persian Cat triplets are named Serena, Nate and Blair. From Gossip Girl of course, he didn’t know what that was. Tedious is his review. Leon thought Henry, Tommy and Jimmy were more fitting names. You didn’t understand the reference. “You buy ‘em little plates and forks and cups, they’re living better than us, baby.” And that’s a fact. You splurged on a Red Roof Country House. Far nicer than his apartment, once empty, now filled with junk like that. No, it’s not junk, it’s his baby’s stuff, trinkets that make her happy.
“What if I just liked them?” You’re glaring at him, cutely of course, everything you do is saccharine.
“Just adds up, don’t it?” Leon gives you a big, wet kiss on your pouty lips. Tastes roses. Literally. He just swallowed a bunch of pink Vaseline. “What I wanted to say ‘fore you got all pissy on me,” he swallows the lump in his throat, fuck it, how bad could it go, he’s just making his favourite girl happy, “I don’t mind tryin’ it out.”
Rules are implemented the following morning, albeit loosely. Leon doesn’t have a lot of control over things, the DSO has jurisdiction over him, got him by the balls. And in turn, Leon’s just learnt how to take it like a good bitch. You handed him a pink glitter pen and a page from your Hello Kitty notebook. Asked him so sweetly to make a general set of rules, so you know how to be a good girl for daddy. Leon sprung a boner so fast he got nauseous. And that’s not even the sex part of this arrangement. He uses his black ballpoint pen, pink glitter isn’t his thing. Plus, it doesn’t show up on the paper.
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You giggle when he hands them over to you; Leon’s ears flush pink. He’ll get better at it, swear. He wants to do well for you. Wants you to feel satisfied with his quote caregiving unquote.
It starts off slow, you hand him your toothbrush in the morning, Leon blinks at you in pure and utter befuddlement. You say Ah! like you would at the dentist and he gets it. Leon sits you on the closed lid of the toilet seat, making sure to get your molars, your canines, front teeth, and all the remaining ones. Five seconds each. Or he tries at least. You’re quite meticulous in this headspace, letting out a disgruntled noise when he fails to be precise.
Then you sit on the mat while he showers, like a puppy, didn’t even notice you were there until he opened the sliding door. “Hi there, babydoll.” Leon wraps a towel around his waist, “whatcha doin’ down there?”
“Waiting for daddy.” You tell him plainly, then trail after him as he gets ready. Right. He’s gotta pick out your clothes. What if you don’t like them? You’re so fussy with your style, spend hours tossing piece after piece out of the wardrobe, stomp your feet when the blouse you wanted to wear is in the laundry. Right now, you’re totally placid, lifting your arms when he asks as he puts you in a ribbed pink sweater and the frilly skirt you’re so fond of, knee high socks per usual, Mary Janes to finish it off. Oh. Yeah. This is bad. He’s in deep. You’re too cute. He thinks he wants to be your daddy forever.
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“My dad’s been wanting to see you, Leon.” Ashley’s all grown up now, which makes him feel a bit sappy. Hypocritical really, he’s got a college girl back at home calling him daddy.
Dad… Daddy, I love you, when are you coming home?
Leon blinks to clear his mind, gives Ashley a plastic smile. “How’s he been?”
“Oh, you know how it is, he got a little sick over Halloween, but that guy, he’s always up and kicking.” Ashley brings a vanity out of her pocket, reapplies her lipstick. “Overall, he’s been good.”
Good girl, am I a good girl, daddy?
Jesus Christ, get a grip, man. “I’m glad, should take a rest that guy.”
“I know!” Ashley moves her plate to the side and lays out her entire makeup case on the table, picking out mascara. When he looks closely, her round mirror is printed with a vaguely familiar cartoon bunny. “He never listens, hasn’t been President for decades and he just works and works and works. That’s why you should call, tell him to take it easy.”
“What’s her name?” Leon frowns, jabs his thumb towards the compact.
“My Melody!” She answers, grinning at him with her pearly whites.
My Melody, Kitty, Keroppi, and Mimi, did you write that down, daddy? And there’s—
“Aren’t you too old for that, Ash?” Leon raises his brow, he’s not serious though, and she can tell.
“Hey, I liked Sanrio before it was cool in 2004, okay?” She tosses it all back in her clutch. Ashley’s too nice, if it were Claire she’d bite back with Aren’t you too old for your girlfriend, loser? And that would shut him up. “It was nice seeing you, Leon, I wanna meet your girlfriend next time, she seems sweet. And don’t forget to call dad, I’ll drop his number later.”
Call dad… Daddy? Daddy.
“Leon, don’t you think Chris looks like our dad?” Claire’s hijacked the DSO break room once again, she’s in town for some TerraSave presentation thingy. He wasn’t listening. Eyes glassed over as he gazes endlessly at her phone screen.
Dad. Dada. Daddy, daddy, daddy, daddy.
“Huh?” Leon says dumbly.
Claire levels him with her stare. “You’ve been out of it today, what’s up?”
“Nothing.” He shrugs nonchalantly, wipes his clammy palms on his jeans. “Just didn’t sleep well.”
“Uh huh.” Claire’s not convinced. Shit. She totally knows. She sees right through you, Leon. She knows what dirty shit you’ve been up to, can see the shame on your face, and she’s building her case against you. “Anyway,” she begins, voice holding onto it’s suspicious edge, “I was saying, I found this photo album of our parents, doesn’t Chris look so much like dad?”
Daddy. Daddy. Daddy. Fuck. He needs a lobotomy. Stat. This is taking over his fucking life. A sizable chunk of his brain was removed in his sleep, and it’s been replaced by pink mushy goo. Different to the pinkish brain matter that resides inside one’s head. More a glittery pink goop that morphs into the shape of you. You’re jumping around in there, sliding down the sulci and fissures in his brain, lodging yourself deep in his mind. Making it your playground.
“You’re fucking impossible to talk to, Leon. You know that?” What’d you say Claire? He can’t hear you over the impossibly disgusting, perverted thoughts running through his mind.
The second he gets home, Leon is on you. Face between your tits, knee keeping your thighs open, kissing you breathless. “Daddy!” You giggle, delighted by the wave of affection.
“Babydoll,” Leon rubs his stubble against your cheeks to hear you squeal, “Daddy missed you so much.”
“I missed daddy sooo much too!”
“Oh, yeah? How much did you miss daddy?”
You stretch your arms as wide as they go. “This much, daddy!” Fuck. Holy fucking shit. He needs to start going to weekly mass again.
“Yeah?” Leon peppers kisses all over your little face, forehead to your neck, “what’d ya get up to?”
“Mmm,” you hum, tapping a finger against your lip thoughtfully, “coloured, ate ‘n got sleepy, daddy.”
“What an eventful day that is, baby.” Leon kisses your nose. “You colour something for daddy?” He needs to put his dick in you before he explodes.
“Mhm,” your lashes flutter when he sneaks a hand up your loose sweater, hanging off your shoulders, swallowing you up, “I put it in daddy’s office…” Your breath hitches when he rolls your pebbled nipple between his thumb and forefinger.
“Daddy’s gonna hang it on the fridge tonight then.” Leon mumbles, too busy shoving his naughty hand down your pyjama shorts, cupping your mound. Your fingers tremble as you lift the hem of your sweater, baring your tits for him, he takes your nipple into his mouth. Bites down to hear you gasp. Latches on like a damn baby, groping the other tit roughly.
“Daddy,” you whimper, and the sound alone makes his dick twitch. Leon pulls off with a pop, spit dripping down his chin.
“I know, baby,” Leon coos, “daddy’s gonna take care of you.” Dirty old man! blares Claire’s voice in the back of his mind. Leon can’t find it in himself to care. Watch this, bitch. “You want daddy to play with your princess parts, babydoll?” You heard that right, princess parts. He’s been sucked in that deep.
You nod, brows pinched together as you bunch up the sheets in your curled fists. Leon clicks his tongue, presses a kiss below your belly button. “Words, baby.” He reminds you, his tone delicate, only lightly chiding.
“Need daddy… need him to play with me,” it’s barely a mumble, but Leon takes it. He knows how jumbled your head gets in this mindset. Poor baby, play with your clit and it turns you all stupid.
Leon gets to work. He’s been waiting for it all day, to get his mouth on this perfect cunt. He spreads you out, urges you to go wider, as far as you can. Licks over the fabric of your cotton panties, his nose nestled against your swollen clit, sucking on the wet patch on the gusset. The constant nudge of his nose against your clit is making you antsy, your chest rises and falls, your fingers itch to tug at his hair, but you’re an obedient girl so you keep them down by your sides. Clutch at the sheets till your nails break.
He continues to lick and suck at your leaky centre through the fabric for an eternity. You have your complaints, but you can’t say no to daddy. That’s, like, against the rules. So Leon has his fun, maybe a little too much fun. You let out a strained noise, and enough is enough, you’re being so good for him, so patient. His little girl deserves a treat. Once you’ve creamed your panties that is.
“God,” you toss your head back and melt when his tongue flattens over your bare folds, he’d thrown your panties into the laundry basket a minute prior, good aim.
“Hey, give me some credit, baby,” Leon takes a break from tongueing you down, “God’s not doing shit down here, it’s all your daddy.”
That makes you giggle. Then you call out daddy so sweetly his brain blanks. He spits on your sticky core, you’re wet enough, but Leon likes it sloppy, wants to feel your mess dripping down his chin. His teeth scrape your clit, pulls the hood back, kitten licks it, kisses it three times for good luck.
“Don’t cover your mouth, baby,” Leon places a big hand on your hip, holds you in place, “Daddy didn’t say you could do that.”
“Sorry… ‘M sorry, daddy,” you whine, the hand once clasped over your mouth falling limp, and you’re moaning like a fucking pornstar. He can’t handle it. That word does something to him, something evil and degenerate.
He pushes your cushiony lips together, pinches your clit when it sticks out, makes the nastiest sounds known to mankind. Messy eater. Schlurping, schmacking, gulping. What he’s gulping down? God knows. Two fingers slip into you, knuckle-deep, wriggle around, scissor you open, his palm mashed into your clit. Leon’s face is resting on your plush thigh, admiring his own handiwork. Your slick cunt, drooling all down his wrist, covered his face in it, now you're cumming in messy spurts.
“Atta girl,” Leon croons, lays it on thick with the praise ‘cause he knows you get shy about this, “that’s right, dollface, just let it all out for, daddy, huh?”
Panting, you curl into yourself, kick your legs a little when his nimble fingers find your sticky clit, he can feel you throbbing. “No more, daddy.” You beg, rubbed raw from the back-to-back orgasms.
“Too much, baby?” Leon’s hand comes to cop a feel, his nose pressing into the nape of your neck. “Can you get daddy off?”
The energy seems to zap back into you within an instant. You nod, head bobbing up and down like it should be doing on his dick. You love having your mouth full, keep his cock down your throat till you go numb. Suckle on it with pride and integrity. You gaze up at him with those eyes, heart-shaped pupils and all, blowjob eyes.
“How’d you want daddy?” Leon asks, you roll over, laying flat on your back, you want him like that? Alright, naughty girl. With your head between his meaty thighs, Leon guides his weeping tip past your swollen lips, you lap at the slit, collecting droplets of his precum on your tongue.
“Shit,” Leon gets out through gritted teeth, covers it with a cough, he shouldn’t really be saying bad words, not setting a good example for his baby. The suction is crazy, feels like he stuck his dick into the tube of a vacuum cleaner. Your cheeks hollow out as he thrusts his hips forwards, tip hitting the back of your throat, making you gag each time. Still take it like a champ though. You always do, his good fucking girl. “Doin’ so damn well, baby, makin’ daddy cum.”
Your little hand comes to rest on his abdomen, Leon eases up, lets his fat cock slip out of your mouth, he thinks you’ve had enough, but you go for his balls instead. Open your mouth wide as you try to fit ‘em in your mouth. “No chance, baby.” Leon smiles, patting your head, you lick along the seam and his dick is fucking throbbing. Hail fucking Mary. “Not gonna last, babydoll, can daddy fuck you now or ya need a break?”
You nod, he raises a brow, “No, daddy, I’m fine, daddy. Need daddy in me so bad.” You croak out, throat sore from the time spent with his cock lodged in your windpipe.
That makes him groan. The non-explicit dirty talk is fuckin’ weird, turns him on in ways he can’t explain. He loves when you avoid saying the word pussy, can’t say cock, makes it sound even dirtier. Maybe it’s the control aspect. You can’t say those words ‘cause daddy said so, ‘cause Leon said so.
His dick jumps the second he tries to slide in, bumps against your sensitive clit, shit, that hasn’t happened since he was twenty. Leon grabs your ankles, kisses one before he throws them over his shoulders, uses one hand to guide his dick to your sloppy hole and the other is intertwined with your smaller one. Tender, sappy, sweet. Oh, don’t make him tear up, princess. With age he’s softened up. For you Leon has softened up. Brought back part of who he was before it all went wrong.
“My pretty girl,” he pets your cheek like he does the neighbour’s well-fed cat, and you lean into it all the same. He fills you up so well. No matter how much Leon plays with your pussy, there’s always a stretch, and he can tell by the look on your face. Nose scrunching, lips parting, letting out a sharp breath as the weight of his cock knocks against your cervix. “All done, baby.” Leon tells you, and you open your eyes, sit up on your elbows to see where the two of you meet in a sticky, squelching embrace. “Well done, baby, you’re such a big girl, takin’ all of daddy, aren’t you?” Leon presses his hand down on your lower tummy, his cock angles upwards so he can hit that spongy spot deep inside, the one that makes you sob. “Is it there?”
The cry you let out is the confirmation he needs. He bullies his cock into you, fucks you rough ‘cause he loves you. Making love is for mornings, when you’re sleepy and pliant, nasty fucking is for after work. When he’s pent up, when you’ve been on his mind all day. Leon pulls out, only his tip keeping your cunt spread open, then he slams back in, and you begin to sniffle, squeezing his hand so tight you cut off his blood circulation.
“Daddy,” You drop his hand, nails clawing down his back, his lonely hand suffering from a severe case of pins and needles, “daddy, daddy, daddy— oh, daddy!” It’s the only thing you can say. Stuffed your cunt and your head is full of him too. Leon adores you. Prettiest girl in the whole world and you’re here speared on his cock. Dexterous fingers find your clit once more, helping you reach the edge.
“You can do it, baby, don’t worry, daddy’s here.” Leon dips his head down, kisses you and swallows up your sounds, stringy spit keeping the two of you connected. Red string of fate or whatever. “Daddy’s right here, daddy loves you.”
All it took was the L word, and you’re squirting. Pushing his cock out, dripping down his heavy balls, digging your nails into his back, chanting daddy like your life depends on it. And Leon can’t take it, he’s been ready to bust the second he got home, his stomach contracts, spills his seed into your wet cunt. Messy just how he likes it.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Leon lets his full weight drop on top of you.
You grunt softly, “Heavy, daddy.”
“Yeah, I know, gimme a second.” Leon grumbles, teeth tugging on your earlobe. “How’d you rate me? Five stars? Ten out of ten?”
You yawn into his hair, “Stop bein’ silly, daddy.”
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