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perlelune · 5 months

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Hunger | Coriolanus Snow

From the moment your husband introduces to President Snow, you're untethered, as if the very floor was ripped from underneath you.

Warnings: NON-CON, District 12! Reader, Covey! Reader, Housewife Kink, Manipulation, Somnophilia, Breeding Kink, Chasing

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

Nervousness wrenches your insides as you peer at the proceedings from afar. Another gala to raise funds in order to quell a budding rebellion in the Districts. The second one this year.

They always leave you feeling sour. It’s not like the Districts have no reason to start an uprising. The next reaping is fastly approaching and you’d rage too if your family was to go through that again.

You take a tiny sip from your glass of posca, mindful not to overindulge. The diluted, aromatic wine is far stronger than one would imagine. But a slight dash of intoxication is the only way you can see yourself getting through the night. Crowds always made you anxious, but a gathering of Capitol citizens stirs a particular discomfort in you.

You’re not one of them and you often wonder if they can tell, sense a whiff of District 12 on you. The foul stench of unbelonging. Perhaps in the manner you speak or your stance. You’ve never managed to perfectly mimic the way Capitol ladies carry themselves, born from a lifetime of practicing poise and etiquette. After all, you are an outsider, and always will be.

Regardless of how many galas you attend, fashionable dresses you order to match the quickly changing trends of the Capitol, effort you exert to erase your thick Covey accent…it seems someone can always tell there’s more to you.

It’s in that mocking glint in their eyes, that sneering lilt in their voice.

To them, you’ll never be more than District rabble.

Which is exactly why you despise these events. But your husband insisted. He’s working hard to impress his boss, the most important man in all of Panem, and you can’t let him down.

You must be the picture of charm. Laugh at every joke, nod your head when a serious topic is being broached, display interest when personal stories are being shared.

You place a hand on your roaring stomach, a frown creasing your brow. You haven’t swallowed a bite the entire day, too anxious about how tonight would go.

Your gaze darts about the room. The tantalizing spread of appetizers in the middle of the room seems to be calling your name. Your mouth waters.

Without a thought, your feet glide across the marble tiles. A little self-conscious, hesitation tingles at your fingertips as they drum by one of the silver platters. Another pang of hunger pierces your insides at the sight of the food. You cave in, picking up a tiny sandwich from a plate. Your eyes close, angels singing in your mouth as delicious aromas trickle on your tongue.

“Sweetie, there’s someone you must meet,” your husband chimes at your back.

Still chewing on a mouthful of meat and bread, you whirl. Your eyes bulge. Startled, you nearly suffocate on your food.

You quickly wipe your mouth as heat rushes to your cheeks.

You’ve seen his face before. The murky screens do not do justice to his dashing looks.

“President Snow. It’s a pleasure. Apologies, I was…”

A smile ghosts over his lips as he drinks you in, his cerulean gaze dragging over your frame. “No apologies,” he answers silkily. “I’m glad you’re enjoying the food. At least someone is.”

He picks up your hand and presses an ephemeral peck on the back of it. You turn to Henry. The shock adorning your husband’s face mirrors yours.

President Snow’s lips curl skywards.

He lets go of your hand and adds, “It’s nice putting a face to your name. Henry is always raving about you.”

You shake your head, eyes bashfully finding the floor. “Oh, I’m sure he isn’t,” you mumble.

The blonde hums as if to disagree. He bends close to your ear.

“He’s always lauding what a wonderful wife you are, dutiful, sweet…”

…Makes me almost jealous.

Your head whips up.

You blink at the whispered words, barely above a breath. Maybe you heard wrong. It’s hard to tell, the way Snow gauges you, that subtle smile still decorating his handsome face.

He asks you trivial questions about how you’re settling in and how you’re enjoying your life in the Capitol. You answer every time, ignoring the chill dancing at the base of your spine.

His scrutiny swells your unease.

So as soon as the conversation veers away from you and towards the topics of lawmaking and taxes, you snatch the opportunity to excuse yourself.

You give an apologetic smile to your husband.

“Henry, maybe I should go. I’m not feeling too hot.”

He scowls at you. “You want us to leave already?” Disappointment bleeds in his tone. A thick layer of shame settles in the pit of your stomach. You’re being a bad wife.

“You can stay, even if I go,” you try to offer.

“There’s still so many people we haven’t talked to…” Henry argues.

You deflate. You suppose it would be uncouth to leave too early.

To your surprise, President Snow’s smooth lilt interjects, “If your wife is unwell, you both should go.”

You gape at him. A strange glint bounces in his cerulean orbs and unease flutters through you once more.

Henry sighs, grabbing your hand.

“Alright. I’ll go fetch the car.”

He gives the blond a formal salute before dragging you away.

As the two of you leave, the heat of Snow’s attention prickles along your spine.

“Did he say something to you?”

Gasping, you turn to your husband. He pointedly looks at you and you shift awkwardly in the passenger seat.

“What?” you say, taken aback by his sudden question.

He studies you for a while before his gaze drifts back to the road.

“Snow. He said something to you, didn’t he?”

Your chest clenches. Faking nonchalance, you shrug and reply lightly, “Just a joke but I didn’t understand it.”

The days soar by, humdrum and uneventful. You file away the strange moment at the gala and return to your everyday life. Henry occupies most of your time but when you’re not catering to him, you tend to the house and read. And during stolen moments…you play and sing. Henry doesn’t know, of course. It’s a life you left behind, or are supposed to at least.

You’re the wife of a Capitol official, not some District balladeer peddling song for coin.

But you can’t help it.

Singing reminds you of home. Of endless green meadows and lazy afternoons by the river. Your life from before may have been uncertain but you find yourself missing it at times. Missing the freedom to do and act as you pleased.

An orphan like so many others, the Covey were the only family you ever knew. Then you met Henry. Henry who spoke so sweetly to you and gazed at you with warm brown eyes. And he became your family. He didn’t care that you were from a District or that your manners were lacking. He embraced you.

And now you wish to support him in all that he does. Even if it means tossing away parts of yourself.

The front door cracks open, halting the path of the needle between your fingers. A smile blooms on your lips as you place Henry’s shirt on a nearby table. You can resume fixing the buttons on it later. You rise from the armchair and make your way to him. You help him out of his coat, noting the excitement radiating off his frame.

He’s not usually this ecstatic after a day of work. You tilt your head in puzzlement.

He hugs you before announcing, “We have a guest tomorrow, a very important guest.”

“Oh,” you reply, tamping down your concern. The apartment isn’t exactly ready for guests, much less important ones. The fridge needs to be stocked and the furniture requires thorough dusting.

“Yes, I was mentioning what a wonderful cook you are and he said he hasn’t had a home cooked meal in a while.”

“Who?” you ask, your curiosity peaking.

“President Snow,” Henry replies with a victorious grin.

Dread and confusion collide inside you. Why would President Snow visit you and your husband of all people? While Henry’s been rising in ranks quite fast, you can’t picture the leader of the country making time for people like you.

But you don’t voice these thoughts, instead you inquire, “Are you sure my cooking will be enough for him? His palate is used to those fancy meals at the Capitol.”

He cradles your face and plants a kiss on your forehead.

“Don’t doubt yourself, honey. You’re an amazing cook.”

“I just don’t want to let you down,” you confess, anxiously chewing on your lip.

“You won’t,” he assures. His chestnut gaze dives into yours. “This could be a great opportunity for us. Imagine what being close to Snow could do for our lives. He could promote me. We could even move to a bigger place.”

Your brows knit. “I love our place.”

Henry laughs. “Yes but the day we expand our family, you have to admit it’ll be a little small.”

You peer at your surroundings. Every corner of the little house harbors a beloved memory. You’d hate leaving it behind, but you suppose he’s right. You might outgrow it one day.

Henry frames your chin to draw your focus back to him.

“Just be yourself,” he says. “Your kind, sweet, wonderful self and all will be well.”

Nodding, you give a feeble smile.

“Understood.”

The next day is spent meticulously cleaning every inch of the house. For hours you’re anxious, wondering what to say or do, how to behave. You don’t have the natural wit and charm to impress someone like Coriolanus Snow. You keep worrying you’ll speak out of turn and embarrass Henry. Preparing dinner is the only time your mind is at rest. You stir the vegetables in the stew, smiling as the delectable scent fills your nostrils. It’s simmered for hours to create a rich flavor. It’s only your second time trying this recipe so you’re a bit nervous. Henry adored it but he’s your husband. You don’t know if President Snow’s delicate taste buds will find your meals to his liking.

You’re slightly more confident about your strawberry cake. While you struggled with it at first, the frosting never quite coming out the way you wanted, it’s now turned into one of your specialties.

The doorbell rings and you freeze. You glance up at the clock hanging near the stove. Already? Time has flown and you didn’t notice.

As you approach the door, you smooth out the wrinkles in your apron and straighten your spine. You take a deep breath before opening the door.

A wobbly smile cants your lips upwards.

“President Snow, it’s an honor,” you greet cheerfully.

The tall blond crosses the threshold after your husband. You take him in, trying to girdle your apprehension. He casts an imposing figure with his slicked back silver locks and tailored purple suit, the signature white rose pinned to his left breast pocket as always.

An aura of authority seems to follow him wherever he goes.

“Please, the honor is mine,” Snow says. His sky gaze roams across the living room. His expression is unreadable and you feel a bit self-conscious. It’s likely not as luxurious as what he’s used to. But to your surprise, he looks right at you and says, “What a lovely abode.”

His nose twitches as he hums, “I smell something heavenly, for me perhaps?”

You nod.

“I made beef stew.”

“Wonderful.”

Your cheeks warm at the compliment.

“Shall we sit?” Henry says, escorting him to the dining room.

You rush to the kitchen and throw your apron on a chair. Inhaling a lungful of nerve, you slip on gloves and grab the pot from the stove. Slowly, you bring out the food. Your skin tingles with the weight of Snow’s eyes on you.

You ladle out the stew on each plate. When you circle the table to serve Snow, you feel the faintest brush of fingertips over your hip. You flinch.

When you look at him, an almost imperceptible smile hovers on his lips. You blink and it almost seems like it’s gone, as if you dreamt the entire instant. The ladle wavers in your hand.

Did he mean to do that? Once again, you question your own senses, your sanity. It was a fleeting touch, the accidental kind that occurs everyday. But somehow your nerves are agitated with this mere, insignificant second.

Quickly, you round the table and plop down in the chair next to your husband. He squeezes your hand beneath the table, his brown gaze spelling “good job”. Relief sits inside you. You spent all day agonizing over every aspect of tonight so it’s nice to know Henry appreciates your efforts at least.

Everyone starts eating, your husband and Snow engaging in topics you only listen to with half an ear. Instead you focus on your plate, swallowing tiny bites of the stew.

The flavor is nice and rich, just like you hoped, and pride trickles inside you.

“You’re so silent. Are we boring you?”

Snow’s abrupt statement yanks a sharp gasp from you. Your head snaps up. You realize both he and Henry are staring at you. Your face warms.

“N-No, I just don’t have anything interesting to contribute,” you stammer, your head dipping.

“My wife has no mind for politics, I’m afraid,” Henry chuckles.

Your mouth screws shut, your fingers tightening around your spoon. It’s more that your opinions differ vastly and there are things Henry prefers you don’t say aloud.

A crooked smirk blooms on Snow’s lips.

“Ah, a pretty, silent one. I believe you lucked out with this one, Henry.”

Your teeth grind as your brows twitch. Pretty and silent. You don’t know why the words chafe you, cutting into you as deep as a knife.

You rise from your chair and grab your near empty plate.

“I should go clean the kitchen,” you announce with a terse smile.

You don’t look back as you walk away, berating yourself with every step.

This isn’t how one should behave in front of him. But you also don’t think you can spend another second in his presence.

You rub the sponge over the top of the stove, satisfaction trickling inside you as the grease and sauce stains are wiped away. You bask in the calm, concentrated on your task.

A warm breath tickles the shell of your ear.

“You seemed peeved before.”

Sucking a sharp breath, you whirl on your heels. Your hand spreads over your chest as your vision is filled with the towering frame of President Snow. His stance is relaxed as he peers at you curiously.

“You scared me…President.”

He ignores your reaction, continuing his statement from before, “When we were discussing the next reaping.”

You shake your head. “I wasn’t peeved.”

“Your face, it did that thing.” Your forehead creases. He inches closer. The scent of roses, thick and heady, coats your senses. Your head starts spinning. “Like now. It bothered you.”

Panic flutters through you. This is a man who could have you hanged or jailed for saying the wrong thing. But something about his expression tells you he won’t relent, that he'll only take the truth and nothing else.

So your heart spills out of you.

“In an ideal world, we wouldn’t need the Hunger Games. They are…” You trail off, remembering yourself, who you’re speaking to. You bite down your feelings and go quiet.

But Snow bends over you, crowding your space as your back hits the edge of the stove.

“What? Barbaric? Cruel?” He chuckles and goosebumps rise on your flesh. “But we do need them, dove. Every single year. So the districts never forget their place, and most importantly ours.”

Your lip quakes. Snow’s gaze follows the motion, his lips slanting lopsidedly.

“Such a sweet soul,” he whispers.

He suddenly backs away from you. Air rushes back to your lungs.

“It’s late. I should take my leave. Thank you for a most…enlightening dinner.”

You resume your life and, for a while, everything is normal. Henry doesn’t talk about that night again and neither do you, the both of you bonded by that silent agreement. Maybe he saw Snow talking to you in the kitchen, maybe he didn’t. You’ll never know as he keeps his thoughts to himself, throwing himself into his work and acting like his usual self.

And if there’s a bit more distance between the two of you in the marital bed, you try not to let it bother you. With time, the strangeness will fade and you and Henry will be back on track, trying for a child and enjoying marital bliss.

Though one evening, things are anything but normal. In fact, the world all but ends.

Your husband peruses the notice letter for rent once more. The blood seems to leave his face.

He runs his fingers through his dark curls.

“I don’t understand.”

Hands resting on his shoulders, your heart skips a beat as you read the neat printed letters.

Rent in your building has doubled overnight. If you and your husband do not pay up by next week, you will be evicted. Houseless.

Hell, you might even be sent back to your district. Your heart plummets to your feet. Your knees buckle underneath you. Henry catches you before you fall, leading you to the sofa as panicked breaths rush through your lungs.

He hunkers in front of you and holds your hands.

“I promise you I’ll find a way. Take out a loan or-”

“A loan we won’t be able to pay back?”

His jaw clenches. “Just let me handle it, okay?”

Though doubts creep inside you, you nod.

The days race along, tension growing each day as the deadline is approaching. Only three days. In just three days, you and your husband will be evicted unless a miracle happens.

And you conclude from the dark circles under Henry’s eyes and the way he barely answers when you speak to him, that he’s as clueless as you are.

There is no solution. Once again, the Capitol and its arbitrary rules strike.

So you come to a decision.

A decision that leads you in front of the biggest mansion in the entire Capitol. President Coriolanus Snow’s house. You suck in a wide lungful, quelling a shudder at the sight of the blue-clad peacekeepers lining the walls.

You stride towards the massive entrance gates. White roses twine around the wrought iron, their thorns seeming as sharp as knives.

You gather your nerves and lift a tremulous hand towards the intercom.

Before you can even state your matter, a disembodied, feminine voice rises from the device.

“Do you have an appointment?” the woman asks stiffly.

Hasty words pour out of you. “No, but I just need a minute-”

“President Snow doesn’t accept any visitors,” she responds harshly.

Your heart sinks. Of course he doesn’t. It was naive of you to cling to the illusory hope he’d see you anyway. Just for one dinner he likely forgot about. He’s the president. There are crucial matters that perpetually call for his attention. A myriad of things bigger and more important than a single Capitol citizen’s rent issues.

Still, you elect to try again, remembering the imminent deadline.

“Please,” you beg. “It’s very important.”

A distorted sigh ripples from the intercom.

“If you do not leave the premises, we will be compelled to remove you from the property, miss.”

One of the peacekeepers posted at the gates looks straight at you, his hand tightening over the rear of his machine gun. A wave of ice spreads through your veins.

You swallow and step back, accepting your defeat. Burning with shame, you start walking away from the mansion.

But you’re hardly a feet away, as the same voice from before erupts again, much softer this time.

“My apologies, miss. I didn’t realize you were a close friend of President Snow.”

Your jaw hangs slack as you turn.

A woman with long dark hair appears through the open gates.

“Please, follow me,” she says as she approaches you. “The president will see you right away.”

Still steeped in utter shock, you acquiesce. You trail behind her. You can’t help but allow your eyes to wander as the woman escorts you through a dizzying series of hallways. While the front of the mansion is impressive with its lavish gardens and striking architecture, the inside is just as grandiose. You feel small as your gaze rests on all the sculptures and paintings decorating every corner of the house. Everywhere you look, there is something beautiful and eye-catching. The entire house is like a museum, meant to be admired rather than lived in.

Eventually the woman halts in front of a mahogany door. She tugs on the brass handles and stands to the side, making room for you to walk in. You mumble ‘thank you’ under your breath as you stumble inside the office.

President Snow’s blue eyes crinkle when they rest on you.

“Hello, dove. Why don’t you have a seat?” he offers, pointing at the chair before his desk.

Licking your lips, you do as he says. Despite the softness of the plush upholstery you sit on, your nerves flare up. You had an entire speech ready, one you practiced on the way here.

But now that you’re here, his intense focus pinned on you, you’re at a loss.

Shaky words trickle out of your mouth.

“President Snow. I know you must be so busy…”

“Nonsense,” he interrupts, leaning back in his leather chair. “I always find time for my friends.”

You swallow the lump in your throat.

“T-That’s a relief to hear,” you stammer.

A maid brings a kettle and biscuits on a silver platter.

“Tea?” Snow asks as he picks up the kettle.

“No, thank you.”

As Snow pours himself a cup, you ponder your next words. You don’t want to seem greedy but you can’t think of an elegant way to state your purpose.

So you settle for the truth.

“I came because…my husband and I are in a bit of trouble.”

Snow scrutinizes you for a while. Your stomach tightens.

He then gives a sluggish nod, bending forwards as his fingers lace together.

“Do tell me everything, dove.”

You do exactly that. Snow is silent as your trembling voice fills his office. No word leaves his mouth while he listens. You don’t skip out a single detail, making a point to emphasize what consequences could befall upon you and your husband should you fail to meet the deadline.

When you’re done, he sips from his tea cup and hums, “How unfortunate.”

“Can’t it be undone? I mean, couldn’t you…”

He chuckles along the porcelain rim of his cup. “I’m not responsible for every law and charter. I approve them, of course, but there are committees, councils. Each law serves the betterment of Panem as a whole. I can’t undo what has been done. I mean, how would this look to the rest of the Capitol? Like I have a different set of rules for my friends? I have to look impartial.” Heaving out a deep sigh, he sets his cup down. “Apologies, dove, my hands are tied.”

The world seems to collapse around you. Your stomach sinks.

You surmise it was too big an ask, even for the President of Panem. You can’t expect special treatment. It was silly of you to even come hoping for anything resembling that.

You were foolish. Now you must collect the pathetic remnants of your dignity and take your leave.

Gulping down the tears pressing at the back of your eyes, you nod.

“I’m sorry I asked,” you croak, already beginning to rise from your chair.

His deep lilt pauses your motion.

“But I suppose…there could be a solution. An alternative.”

Your brow furrows as you drop back on the chair.

“An alternative?”

“I could cover the difference.”

Your mouth nearly hits the floor. Snow using his own funds to help? It could be the very miracle you and your husband waited for. You would have to pay him back over time, of course. But for now, it would allow you and Henry to keep the apartment.

It’s a godsend.

“You would do that for us?” you mutter, shock stealing your air.

His reply is nonchalant. “Yes. I’d simply file it under my own personal investments.” Slanting his head sideways, he studies you. “I’d just ask for a small favor in exchange.”

“A favor?”

You wonder what kind of favor you could do for someone like Coriolanus Snow, the man who has everything and more. Gaping at him, you wait for him to elaborate.

He leans forward, crossing his arms over his desk.

“It’s not much but it would mean the world to me. The house needs some upkeep. Just a few light chores here and there. No cleaning, of course; I have an entire staff in charge of that. But the garden needs tending.” His inflection softens as he takes you in. “A home cooked meal every now and then would be nice, and I might sometimes ask you to join me for tea and conversation…” Mirth sways in his cerulean orbs. “As dreadful as that may sound.”

You move your head in assent.

“I think I can do that. But w-why me?”

He gives a long exhale, resting his jaw in his hand.

“Honestly dove? You’d be the one doing me a favor. All day, I’m surrounded by vultures.” Snow rolls his eyes skyward. “Sycophants who placate me with false smiles and honeyed lies.” His tone warms when his gaze falls back on you. “I simply wish to return home to someone genuine, someone who would never lie to me. And you wouldn’t, would you?”

“W-What?”

“Lie to me.”

Your skin heats under his scrutiny.

Trying not to squirm, you sputter, “Never, sir.”

“Music to my ears,” the young president croons.

It’s not sounding like more work than what you do at home. You can already hear Henry’s discontent echoing in your head. You won’t have as much time for him. That too will be yet another adjustment.

But what other option is there? Even the family of four above yours had to move, unable to keep up with the sudden rent increase. You and Henry could be next.

“I…W-When do I start?”

The corners of Snow’s lips tug upwards.

“How does tomorrow sound?”

“You’re going to work for him?”

Henry’s displeasure ripples through you. You twine your hands and cast him an apologetic look. He despises that you went behind his back; you know that. But Henry ran himself ragged trying to come up with a solution. You didn’t want him to carry the burden on his own. That is not what a marriage is.

“He needs a housekeeper, of sorts. And he paid this month’s rent and the next upfront.”

Henry’s brows crumple. “Still, that’s…” Shoulders sagging, he crashes onto the sofa. The built-up exhaustion of the last few days seems to return all at once. You know he hasn’t slept a wink this whole week. Heart squeezing, you join his side and cradle his hand in your lap. Henry’s voice is dripping with shame and regret. “The entire reason I moved us here is so you never have to want for anything, so you wouldn’t have to work or suffer another day in this life.” His head dips. “I failed you.”

You cup his face, plunging your eyes into his.

“You didn’t fail me. And I won’t suffer. Sometimes life throws you lemons and you just have to squeeze those suckers dry.”

A hollow chuckle slips through his lips.

You run your thumbs over his growing beard.

"Listen, I know this wasn’t in our plans, but it’s just for now. In time, we’ll figure something out but I have to do this.” You lean your forehead against his. “For us.”

“Okay,” he belatedly concedes. He pulls your hands to his chest, kissing your knuckles.

“Just come home when you’re done.”

“I will,” you promise.

The first day slogs forth without a hitch. A car picks you up in the morning and drops you off at President Snow’s estate. The dark-haired woman from before welcomes you, introduces you to the staff and walks you through your duties. You learn her name is Ariadne.

You spend most of the day busy in the garden and library. Snow’s garden of roses might be one of the hidden treasures of Panem. Taking care of it is a pleasure and you even give yourself some minutes to bask in the sun’s warmth.

The library shelves need dusting and you tend to this task as well, humming familiar tunes to yourself while working. It is no harm if no one is around to hear you sing.

You don’t get bored as there’s always a task requiring your attention in the massive house.

When stars begin to dust the darkening sky, you rush to the kitchen. You get started on dinner. Staff members give you space to work and you’re grateful. You don’t like being ogled while you cook. You marvel at the gold, high-end appliances as you knead your dough. The kitchen is pristine, like everything else in the house. You settle for something simple, hearty and warm. There is no point in pretending you’re some fancy chef when you’re not. If it’s what Snow desired, he’d have hired one. There’s a plethora of them in the Capitol for him to choose from after all. And they’d all line up outside his house in a heartbeat if he requested it.

You stand nervous, hands folded in your lap as the meal you prepared is brought out onto silver plates. You spent hours on it. Hopefully he likes it.

“This smells like heaven,” Snow purrs.

He then points at the chair next to his on the long table.

“Have a seat.”

Your eyes bulge. Not only are you stunned by his request, as there are so many other chairs on the gigantic dinner table, but you were hoping to return home to Henry once dinner was served.

“Oh, I thought…”

He smiles at you. “I hate dining alone.”

You consider arguing. But as you remember all that you owe him, your mouth squeezes shut. You give a meek nod and drag your feet to the chair.

“Of course.”

You pick up your knife and fork…one of the knives and forks. You choose at random, unsure what purpose each of the cutlery items serves.

A smile waltzes upon Snow’s lips as he watches you. Shame pools in your gut. You feel like you’re making a fool of yourself.

He takes a bite of food and hums low in his throat, his eyes closing.

“Your cooking never fails to amaze, dove,” he lauds. Blue eyes search your face. “Are you hiding other talents from me?”

Your eyes lock onto your napkin, following the swirl of the flower patterns sewn in the corners. “I don’t think so,” you mumble.

Dinner continues in silence, only occasionally shattered by Snow’s sounds of delight and words of praise. Your own bites are small. While you’re glad it turned out the way you wanted, you’d rather save your appetite for home.

When a maid brings tea after the meal, Snow raises a dismissive hand.

“We’ll have tea and cakes in the study,” he announces.

Your face scrunches. “But it’s getting late. I should-”

“I must insist,” he interrupts. He rises from his seat and offers you his outstretched hand.

His smile broadens.

“You would rob me of your company so swiftly, dove? How cruel of you.”

Reluctantly, you accept the hand he gives you. He helps you out of your chair and motions at you to follow him.

The both of you end up in his study, sitting by the fire. Tea is placed on the small table between you. Coriolanus takes a slow sip while you fiddle with your hands.

His cerulean gaze locks with yours.

“That song you were humming earlier.”

Your chest seizes.

The loud thudding of your heart fills your ears. You swallow thickly.

“A song?”

“Yes,” he says absently, adding another spoonful of sugar to his cup. He gives a small stir before bringing it to his lips again. “I heard it as I walked by the library.”

You try not to let your panic show, cloaking yourself in false nonchalance. You thought you were discreet, quiet almost.

“Ah, that. It’s nothing,” you elude.

“No, it was lovely. You have the voice of an angel.”

The compliment leaves you speechless.

But his next words tie your stomach in knots.

“I want to hear it again.”

“I don’t really…perform for audiences.”

“You mean since you left the Covey?”

Mouth agape, you stare at him. How did he find out? You don’t remember ever bringing it up. In fact, you wouldn’t. You expend great effort to hide your past on a daily basis.

Your reaction draws a snort from him. Amusement bounces in his orbs.

“Come on, dove, that accent…It might fool others but not me.”

“I don’t sing anymore,” you state firmly.

Even if you did, you wouldn’t do it for Coriolanus Snow. Not of your own free will.

He smiles but it doesn’t reach his eyes. His inflection becomes sharp, all softness evanescing. “Remember when I told you that I hated lies?” His pointed gaze sends chills through your body. “Sing for me, dove.”

Your mouth goes dry as sand.

You understand his words for what they are. An order from your president. A strange order…but an order nonetheless.

You don’t get to refuse. You’re to sing for him, whether it pleases you or not.

Like a bird in a cage.

So you do it. Your lips fall open and clear, soft notes rise out of you. A traditional song your mother taught you. It tells the story of a girl who meets a boy with ocean eyes, how she drowns in them but the fall is like rising to heaven.

As your voice fills his office, Snow’s scorching gaze doesn’t leave you.

When the song is done, he doesn’t applaud or praise you.

Instead, his eyes bear into you for what feels like an eternity. You try not to move, though your heart thunders in your chest.

“See, was that so hard?” he asks, that cocky smile still adorning his lips. You don’t reply, your throat ablaze. It felt as if you didn’t belong to yourself just then. And it terrifies you. He slides your untouched cup towards you. “Drink your tea before it gets cold. Then, you can go home.”

Without a protest, you lift the cup to your mouth. One measly cup of tea and you’ll get to go home. Then this uncomfortable evening can end. Finally.

But as the liquid trickles inside your mouth, tendrils of darkness lurk in your vision. Your body gets heavier. So heavy you can’t hold the cup anymore, or even yourself. The porcelain dish vanishes from your hands. You sag into your chair.

Progressively, colors dim around you.

Then sleep drags you down into a rabbit hole of utter oblivion. And all is blackness.

Softness like you’ve never felt before greets you when you awake. Like being embraced by fluffy clouds. For a while, you linger in the comfortable sensation, humming against the plush blankets. But as your eyes land on the thin slice of sunlight spilling from the window, you unleash an audible gasp.

You bolt in a sitting position.

Your eyes widen as you find Ariadne observing you between the velvet curtains at the end of the bed.

Gripping the side of your head, you glance at your surroundings. Clearly, you’re in a room. But how did you wind up here? No matter how hard you try, you can’t summon a single memory from last night.

“Ariadne? What happened?”

She circles the bed to take a seat next to you. Her gentle tone alleviates your rising panic.

“You fell asleep,” she explains. “Master Snow brought you here so you can get some proper rest.”

You sigh. It does make sense. Though you can’t stamp out the trickle of embarrassment sitting inside you with that knowledge. You dozed off on the job, on your first day. Hopefully, Snow isn’t too offended.

“I must have been more tired than I thought,” you mutter, looking down.

“He’s gone now; he had urgent business at the Justice Building. But he insisted you eat a proper meal before you go.” She points at the golden food cart near the bed, every tray brimming with pastries, fruits, meats and cheeses. Way more than you could eat in a single meal.

The kind of decadent abundance the Capitol likes to indulge in.

You politely decline.

“I can’t…I have to return to my husband. He must be worried sick.”

Ariadne puts a hand on your arm.

“Word has been sent to him that you were simply tending to Master Snow’s needs last night.”

You purse your lips. It’s not ideal but at least he knows you were working.

“Good,” you reply, nodding.

You yank the blanket off your body, determined to stand up and leave. But as soon as you’re on your feet, you crash back down on the bed, a strange ache awakening in your limbs.

Your forehead creases. You hug your stomach, a vicious cramp creeping there too.

Ariadne’s immediately at your side, placing her hands over your arms.

“Take it easy, miss,” she warns. “You exerted yourself a great deal yesterday.” She beams brightly. “In fact, Master Snow has given you a few days off. He was very satisfied with your work and expects you in three days’ time.”

Your brows rise. “Oh, that’s very generous.”

Her grin expands.

“He is exceedingly pleased with your performance.”

Over the next few weeks, Snow keeps summoning you sporadically. The days you work for him are pretty much the same. You attend to your daily tasks, you cook for him and then the two of you have tea in his study. He has you sing for him sometimes. You’ve learnt to swallow your feelings and perform according to his whim. You don’t even sing to yourself anymore, the exultation you drew from it all but gone. It was a way to stay connected to your Covey roots, to keep your family close to your heart. Now you can’t do it without his icy gaze invading your thoughts.

You often end up incredibly tired on those days, your body aching and sore for hours afterwards. You never imagined working for Coriolanus Snow would drain you so much. Falling asleep in his house even turns into a regular occurrence, happening almost every time you show up for work.

Naturally, Henry isn’t thrilled with that. Every time you come back home, too tired to wait on him hand and foot like you used to, his displeasure grows.

But he’s also yet to find a way to fix the issue, so the two of you must keep working. You’ve already sold everything that you could, clothes, any belonging of slight value.

The gap is still too vast.

And the city won’t allow you to apply for another place to live, claiming the waitlist is already sky-high.

Though you resent it, Coriolanus Snow is your only hope.

“You’re not in charge of dinner tonight,” Ariadne announces one night as you fire the stove.

You turn the burners off, your eyes rounding.

“I’m not?”

A bright smile blooms on the brunette’s face.

“Master Snow is inviting you to dine with him as his guest, to express gratitude for your outstanding work.”

Your lips part in surprise. In the many weeks you’ve worked for President Snow, this has never happened. You have shared meals, of course, but you’ve never received such a formal invitation.

You suppose it’s all a game to Snow, and he simply changes the rules whenever he feels it.

She astonishes you further when she urges you to follow her to one of the guest bedrooms.

Utter dismay fills you.

A white dress lies atop the bed. The sleeveless evening gown looks more expensive than any dress you’ve ever laid eyes on. The delicate white silk flares at the waist, the gigantic, fluffy layered skirt making your head spin already. You imagine how hard it'd be to move in such a dress. Though you surmise it won’t be too much of a concern as you only need to sit through dinner with it.

“Master Snow expects you to wear this tonight,” Ariadne chimes.

She helps you slip on the dress, a task you undoubtedly would have struggled to complete on your own, the many layers of tulle, silk and lace of the huge skirt alone their own challenge.

Eventually, you’re dressed.

She escorts you to the dinner room. Curious eyes dart about the halls, noting their unusual emptiness. Not a single footman, maid or Avox in sight.

You’re alone.

“The house is very quiet,” you point out.

Ariadne beams at you from above her shoulder.

“The entire staff’s been sent home. Master Snow wants to wait on you himself tonight.”

Your stomach knots, a foreboding feeling swelling within you.

Still, you glide forward. It’s a little late to turn back.

When you enter the diner room, Snow’s face lights up. He makes his way to you. As usual, he’s dashing, his platinum blonde locks neatly combed back and his crimson suit highlighting his tall frame.

His gaze twinkles as he drinks you in.

“You’re a vision, dove.” He lifts your hand and brushes his lips over your knuckles. His eyes slam into yours. Time seems to hang still for a few seconds. “As I know you would be.”

Keeping your hand in his, he escorts you to your seat. He pulls your chair for you and you fumble with your skirt a little before finding a comfortable way to sit.

“So…no maids today?” you say lightly.

His lips slant. He removes the lid off one of the pots. The mouthwatering smell instantly reaches you.

“I thought it’d be nicer to enjoy a quiet, private dinner together, as a way to celebrate.”

Your face contorts into a puzzled expression.

“Celebrate?”

“Your last day as my housekeeper,” he replies cheerfully.

Your heart misses a beat. Is he firing you?

You attempt to tamp down the quake in your voice. You fail miserably.

“Really?”

He gauges you and his smile grows.

“Yes. In fact, you and your husband will never have to worry about rent anymore. Him especially. Everything’s settled.”

An audible exhale slips through your mouth.

“This is…I don’t know what to say.”

“You can say thank you.”

“Thank you, President Snow.”

His laugh resonates in the near empty dining room.

“Please, call me Coriolanus.” He ladles soup onto your plate before bending close. You tense as his warm breath ghosts over your temple. “We’re quite…close now, aren’t we, dove?”

You gulp down the lump in your throat.

“I suppose we are…Coriolanus.”

You wince. Uttering his name feels wrong, forbidden almost.

Satisfaction doesn’t part from his handsome features as he regains his seat. He gestures for you to start eating. You feel a bit self-conscious as he observes you intently.

Still, you do as he heeds, not needing to be told twice.

The quicker you eat, the quicker you’ll get to be home and out of the uncomfortable dress.

You groan as your lids flutter, a blurry shape rocking back and forth in your vision. Fatigue tugs at your heavy limbs as you stir. Your forehead scrunches. Your body’s hot, like a furnace, like you’re burning from the inside out. Tingles spark somewhere in you and you keen sharply, leaning into the sensation. Feverish whispers surround you, words you don’t comprehend in your daze.

The pull and tear. The pleasure mingling with the pain. You’re in a strange dream, maybe a nightmare.

Deep-chested grunts land in your ears. You awake further. It’s a voice you recognize, from somewhere…but not like this. Never like this. Something’s wong. Your forehead wrinkles. Something’s wrong but you’re so tired. So so tired. Your mind’s like cotton. Your limbs are as rocks.

As your lids sag, something slams into you. Fast, hard and vicious.

Your heart bounces. Your eyes snap open.

Your stomach drops.

A sinister smile you know too well by now welcomes you.

“Hello, dove. Awake, finally,” Snow whispers, his hips snapping into yours. Your breath catches as his cock grazes against your sweet spots. You clench around him and he chuckles darkly. “That angle always does it for you.” Smugness oozes off his hoarse timbre.

You look up at him. Sweat dots his brow, his tousled blonde locks clinging to his forehead. His blue eyes are cloudy with lust. His white shirt is half open, revealing a glimpse of the bare, glistening muscles underneath.

And as your gaze travels lower, horror flares inside you.

You gape with wide eyes as his veiny length disappears inside you. Again and again. The fluffy white shirt is bunched around your waist, your panties torn, exposing your lower body to President Snow’s lewd scrutiny entirely. His large hands dig into your hips, trailing crescent bruises in the shape of his fingernails.

Your shocked gaze finds his.

His smile expands.

“P-President Snow, what are you doing?”

You know it’s a stupid question…but you have to make sense of this. Because none of this can be real. Maybe it’s a nightmare and you’re still sleeping.

You gasp as he pushes you into the mattress, piledriving into you at an angle that has you seeing stars.

“Taking what’s mine, of course,” he says matter-of-factly, hooking his arm under your thigh.

He lifts you and spreads you even more. His darkened gaze follows the motion of his cock as he pounds into you, an insatiable look twisting his handsome features.

Reaching between your tangled bodies, he pinches your tender heap of nerves. He rubs against it, teasing it with maddening circles until your legs quake. You come apart beneath him, crying out as your back arches against the soft sheets.

“Please, stop,” you whimper, tears gathering in your eyes.

Snow’s pace quickens. Ragged moans tear from your throat. Your vision flickers.

He bends over you to lick one of your tears, humming in satisfaction at the taste.

His lips drag against yours as he asks, “Is it truly what you want? Because it’s kind of hard to tell the way your pussy hugs my cock.” His mouth curves upward against your cheek. “Like it does every time.”

A wave of ice spreads through you.

Every time? Realization hits you, knife-like as it pierces through the veil of denial.

Every time…

The pieces fall into place as you remember all those times you fell asleep, unable to recall how you ended up in bed. Tired, confused…sore.

A shudder shoots through your frame.

You twist your body as panic seizes you.

Coriolanus growls when you clamber away from him, heading for the edge of the bed. You curse the pesky gown and the way it hinders your movements.

He yanks you back with ease, gripping the back of your head and shoving you down into the mattress.

Lips graze your earshell as he snarls, “Where are you going? We’re not done. We have to make sure you carry the next Snow heir.” In one stroke, he sinks into you from behind. You choke on your breath, the pain snatching your air. With one hand cinched around the back of your neck, he starts rutting into you. Your bruised folds ache at the blunt invasion. Still, your core clings to him in a way that stirs shame in your gut. “Although after all these times…” You hear the smile in his conceited inflection “It’s a given, isn’t it?”

Your eyes swell with tears. Your lips part in a silent scream. The sick song of flesh against flesh fills the room, mingling with his feral moans.

Each time your walls tighten around him, bile rises up your throat.

“What have you done to me?” you sob against the drenched silk sheets.

“Oh, I think you know,” he purrs. His warm breath fans over your scalp. “You can feel it, can’t you? How well your body knows me now, dove.”

His hips stutter, his thrusts getting sloppier. His cock twitches inside you. As warmth trickles alongside your walls, you feel sick again. He remains nestled inside you a while, panting above you and shoving the excess back in as you remain still.

As you feel his digits poke and prod, a chill runs through you.

You can’t let him touch you again.

You keel over the edge of the bed, heading straight towards the floor. Pain ripples through your knees as they hit the carpet. You’re forced to ignore the crack resounding through your bones, awkwardly getting to your feet and dashing to the wooden swing doors.

Coriolanus’ wicked laugh echoes behind you.

“Oh, dove, if you wanted to play hide and seek, all you needed to do was to ask,” he taunts.

Terror grips your throat. You ignore it alongside everything else. Alongside the pain, alongside the uncertainty, alongside the fact that you can still feel him inside you. Like you never left the bed. Like you’re still caged in his embrace.

Your legs carry you, barefoot and panicked, as you run through the palatial hallways as fast as the bothersome white dress will allow.

The president’s deep voice bounces against the ornate walls.

“Ready or not, here I come, my darling.”

The blood rushes to your feet. Your head spins and your feet tangle. You trip. Immediately, you gather yourself. You lift the skirt and dive hastily towards the living room. You duck behind a sofa.

It’s a pathetic place to hide; you know it. But the lavish mansion is nothing but open spaces doused in sunlight.

There is nowhere to hide.

The clamor of your heart is deafening in your ears as you hear objects crash to the floor a few feet away from you. Hand over your mouth to keep every sound in, you jerk every time the racket grows on the other side of the sofa.

His frustration coats the air.

“Come out, come out wherever you are, dove,” he calls, his tone icier than before.

You freeze, holding your breath and wishing he doesn’t think to look where you are.

The minutes pass, agonizingly slow. The flimsy hope that he may have left even begins to bloom inside you.

Hot air suddenly breezes over your nape.

“Found you.”

Your heart leaps to your throat. You go still. Coriolanus hauls you from the floor, half-carrying you and half-lugging you across the living room. You try to bite and claw any part of him you can reach but his hand locks around your throat.

He slams you harshly against a wall. Your head rings, the lines of his face momentarily doubling in your vision. You bite his hand. Cursing under his breath, he bangs your head against the wall again. You go limp.

Through your hazy sight, you note the scarlet trail streaking the back of his hand. You drew blood. Even if you’re lost, you bask in the ephemeral second of victory.

He carries your unmoving form the rest of the way back to his bedroom. You loathe yourself for your stillness. You want to put up a fight. You want to claw. You want to bite. You want to kill him with your bare hands.

But all you can do is simmer in helplessness as he brings you right back to the very place you tried to escape.

He gently releases you on the bed then climbs over you. Goosebumps erect on your flesh as he caresses the side of your face, a strangely fond gesture considering everything he put you through.

“Please,” you mumble weakly. “You can have anyone you want. I have a husband.”

His face contorts into an expression of pure mockery, as if what you said was beyond ludicrous.

“I don’t want just anyone.” He lifts your chin, scorching blue gaze diving into yours. “I want you.”

“As for your husband…” His voice trails off as he traces your trembling bottom lip with his thumb. A crooked smirk drags his lips skyward. He leans over you to whisper, “Well I did say he’ll never have to worry about rent ever again, didn’t I?”

Your heart sinks. You can’t believe you trusted Coriolanus Snow. A foolish mistake. A dangerous mistake. One you’re now paying dearly. He not only trapped you…he also hurt Henry.

All because of you.

You will never forgive yourself.

“What did you do to him?” you ask, anger and heartbreak making your voice wobble.

A chill-inducing glint dances in his orbs.

“I haven’t done anything.” He cocks his head. “Rebels are criminals of the state and shall be sentenced as such.”

The world collapses around you.

A chasm of despair swallows you whole as quiet tears stream down your face.

As sobs shake your frame, President Snow plants soft kisses on your wet cheeks. You feel him grow hard against your belly as he hums, as if the taste of your hopelessness was ambrosia to him. Heavenly sweet.

He cups your face.

“Do not fret, dove. I’ll make sure you don’t miss a second of his execution.” The emptiness of his blue eyes staggers you, their depths as icy as a frozen lake. “It’s important for all citizens of Panem to learn from watching.”

The expression on his face turns downright diabolical. His knuckles sweep over the apple of your cheek.

“And I want you to learn as you watch the light go out in his eyes, dove, that this was inevitable, that I always win.”

His tone softens as his hands drag over your hips.

“I wonder how many children you’ll give me. Will they all sing as pretty as you?” The hurried rustle of his pants as he frees his cock freezes your blood. He bites his lip, lust already misting his gaze as he prods impatiently at your entrance.

“I suppose we’ll just have to find out,” he croons.

#dark!coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #hunger games #tbosas fanfiction #dark!coriolanus snow x reader

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queertransetc · 10 months

Text

- ED trigger warning -

Being skinny ruined my life. If you’re thin and think to yourself, “why don’t fat people just lose weight?” Please read this

I was the “ideal fat” in the sense that I did everything skinny people wanted me to do. I tried every diet in the book. I exercised regularly. I worked with doctors and dietitians to figure out the best way to lose weight. But nothing worked. I did everything “right” to lose weight, and my weight stayed the same

But the thin people in my life kept telling me that I wouldn’t be happy, attractive, healthy, etc. until I lost weight. So, heartbroken, I came to the conclusion that anorexia was the only option left. It felt safer than bariatric surgery, and was obviously much more affordable

I became the perfect anorexic. 700 cal a day or less, except once a week I allowed myself 1400 cal. For reference, my body required at least 2800 to maintain weight, and at least 1800 to keep my organs and stuff fully functioning. Still, 700 a day, I persisted because everyone in my life told me weight loss was all that mattered. If dieting didn’t work, anorexia had to

And it did. My weight dropped all the way down to 110 pounds. I was skinny - underweight, even - in all sense of the word. The people in my life saw it as a miracle. The ultimate success story. My mother, my “friends,” my doctors, they all congratulated me on my accomplishment

When I confessed my eating disorder to my doctor, he told me, “that’s not the best way to go about it, but I’m glad you lost the weight.” My mother took pictures of me and sent them to relatives to brag

Okay, great. I was skinny. I did what I set out to do. But there were severe consequences

The most obvious was my joint pain doubled, maybe even tripled, to the point that I couldn’t leave the house without a wheelchair

I also developed several health complications, including fatty liver disease and extremely painful GERD. I had to see a handful of specialists and get an endoscopy because of severe stomach pain

My partner, who was the only person who saw my weight loss for what it was (a horrible thing that only happened because of an eating disorder), convinced me to enter a recovery program

For nearly a year, I relearned how to feed myself. I ate everything I was told to eat, nothing more and nothing less. My diet was 100% in the hands of somebody else

And I gained back every pound I has lost. All of the work to become thin went right out the window. It was proven to me that thinness and health were incompatible with my body. If I wanted to be thin, I had to forgo my physical and mental well-being. And vise-versa

Prior to the anorexia, I never once struggled with binge eating. I was naturally an intuitive eater, and I did a good job of having a well rounded diet. After the anorexia, after recovery, I developed a binge eating disorder. I had spent so long starving myself, that my brain and body got stuck in survival mode, desperate to consume any and all calories out of fear that I might starve again. To this day I struggle with binge eating

I did everything thin people wanted of me. I dieted. I exercised. And when all else failed, I starved myself. Now I have liver disease, stomach issues, and BED. Not to mention the loads of mental issues that accumulated as a result of my weight loss journey. During the throes of my anorexia, I had to be hospitalized for suicidal ideation

When you tell fat people to “just lose weight” you are suggesting they give themselves illnesses for which treatments are not always effective. You are asking fat people to destroy their stomachs and livers. When a fat person loses so much weight that they become skinny, they are likely giving up so much of their health in efforts to be treated like a human being

If you’re thin, do your part. Treat fat people like people before we tear our bodies apart

#Lincoln logs #fatphobia //#eating disorder //#fat liberation #body positivity

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sidsinning · 2 months

Text

Apothecary Diaries is pog as fuck bc serious political issues and dynamics from a woman's POV are rarely depicted in ANY form of media

It's always a man's world where women's issues surround him. Even if we get a female perspective once in awhile- it all comes back to how it facilitates his game in the end. She's a footnote in the overarching scheme of things. Misogyny exists. Back to the real plot.

Apothecary Diaries is strictly from a female perspective and how each class of woman has to act, what limits they have, what rights they have and don't have between each class, etc. These women have to behave a certain way under a patriarchy, which you would think makes it a man's story, but it never is. The women are THE focus of this show, their struggles are THE plot. The focus is about how the patriarch effects them.

Take the concubines for example. The show dives into how bearing a child affects their rank, how traumatizing it is to lose that child, the consequences of that, etc. We have barely seen the emperor who sired all these kids because this is not about him.

Jinshi's personal plot is secondary to Mao Mao's journey- he is mostly there to provide new cases for Mao Mao to solve and to learn more about the shortcomings of his class when taking care of citizens like Mao Mao.

Jinshi is not a bad person, but by virtue of his position in the higher classes, he cannot understand how harsh life as a poor WOMAN is specifically- he can only catch glimpses of it from what Mao Mao tells him and feel outrage but powerless in his wealth and luxury

Mao Mao is a fortunate commoner woman for what privileges someone in her class should and shouldn't have. She happened to be adopted by a knowledgeable man. She is allowed to read, write, learn, and has enough skill to be a poison tester and have a job EXTREMELY out of her class limit as an apothecary, also a job not traditionally meant for women

Mao Mao is not a "noT lIkE oThER gIrLs" protagonist, she is FOR THE GIRLIES. She only wants to help the women around her, and women are whom she has the closest relationships to. She sees a woman being harassed and can't let it stand. She sees a frail, traumatized woman dying from the recklessness of those who should be caring for her and spends day and night nursing her back to health, while also punishing the people who were so careless with her needs.

My girl has STUDIED UP on THE BODY to TEACH these upper class ladies on how to really HEAT things up in the BEDROOM

Sex depicted in Apothecary Diaries is both something women are not shamed to be enjoying, while at the same time being acknowledged as an unfortunately huge economic necessity to market themselves.

Like shit is just so real in this series???

Listen, I can go on and on about how GOATED the series and especially Mao Mao is but you get the picture

#the apothecary diaries #apothecary diaries #mao mao #sidrabbles #Kusuriya no Hitorigoto

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hysteria-things · 2 months

Note

HEYY I LOVE YOUR STORIES COULD YOU MAYBE DO ONE FOR CHRIS OR MATT WHERE HE MEETS A GIRL ON TOUR WHEN SIGNING AUTOGRAPHS AND TELLS HER TO MEET HIM IN THE TOURBUS THEN YKK

♛ ONE ° •

ʚ♡ɞ 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 | 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 ʚ♡ɞ

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dom!matt x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: the versus tour takes place in your hometown! while doing autographs, you seem catch the matt sturniolo’s eye.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUTTY SMUT, swearing, choking if you squint, making out, oral (male and female receiving), dry humping (?), face fucking, spanking, p in v, overstimulation, dumbification, marking, some degradation/praising, hair pulling, squirting, cream pie, ROUGHH

ASSUME YOU’RE ON THE PILL!

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2,427

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: i added this to my welcome post but i’m going to say it here too. my requests are now CLOSED because i’ve been getting overwhelmed and i want to get them done LOL but my inbox is still open so feel free to chat with me :)

idk when i’ll open them again, but they will be eventually!

the moment you’ve been waiting for for months has finally arrived. you and your best friend hannah were lucky enough to get tickets to the sturniolo triplets tour in your hometown.

currently, the small talk line moves slowly but surely. your friend is decked out in purple for nick while you’re wearing blue for matt.

“we’re next!” hannah gushes, clapping her hands in excitement. she pushes you ahead of her. “i’m scared. you go first.”

you roll your eyes playfully. honestly, you’re not nervous to meet your favorites. you feel chill, which is the opposite of what you thought you’d be like.

matt greets you by hugging you tight and smiling. “how are you?” he asks, taking his card and signing it.

“i’m doing good.” you return his smile. “you liking the tour so far?”

he nods, eyeing you up and down. he feels something different about you. this doesn’t feel like any other small talk.

“i love it.”

the security man motions for you to go on ahead. of course, you listen and start to grab your items, but matt stops you. “do you have a boyfriend?”

see, if this were any other person you’d be weirded out by this question; but because it’s matthew sturniolo, you answer.

“nope.”

he licks his lips, taking the card that he signed and flipping it over to write something.

the scary security is getting angry and impatient with you, so you can only read what he wrote as you walk away. your eyeballs almost burst out of your skull.

i want to see you after the show.

now, you and hannah are standing in the red carpet line before the show actually starts.

you guys talk until it’s your turn, the both of you going since you want a group picture. first is chris, then nick, and lastly matt. he hugs you longer than the other two.

a chill runs down your spine when his voice tickles against your ear. “i’ll meet you outside later, right?”

he pulls away, getting ready to pose for the picture, but you nod for an answer.

“that was so much fun!” hannah screeches as you guys walk to the parking lot.

you agree, before stopping. “i need to go back and use the restroom. do you mind taking my stuff with you to my car?”

she grins, grabbing your stuff. “sure thing.”

you speed walk back to the venue, fewer and fewer people flooding the area as you wait.

a door opens moments later, sounding like the backstage door, and you turn to the source.

you blush, your cheeks heating up more and more the closer he gets with that damn smile on his face.

pinch me this can’t be real.

“hi,” he says lowly.

“hi,” you repeat back.

he looks at his watch. “they’re yapping away in there so we should have some time.”

you’re not sure what that means but again: since it’s matthew fucking sturniolo… you’ll listen without a doubt.

your heartbeat pumps rapidly in your chest when he sneaks you into the tour bus.

you kind of feel bad for leaving hannah behind… but this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

the bus looks way bigger on the outside than the inside, and you’re still trying hard to wrap your head around that you’re with matthew. fucking. sturniolo.

he admires the way you take it all in with his hands shoved into his pockets. he’s sure you’re thinking about so many things right now, but the only thing he can think of is how badly he wants to fuck you.

thinking about a fan that way is insane, but he just finds you so much different than any other fan girl. you’re confident, kind, and gorgeous.

you finish observing the tour bus and smile wide at him. “it’s very cool in here.”

“yeah.” he chuckles. “the beds are a tight squeeze though.”

you giggle, and he steps closer. your mind runs a million miles a minute with each step he takes. “do you trust me?” he questions, now inches away from you.

you raise a brow suspiciously. “should i not?”

he smirks, shaking his head. “i’m just checking.” he places his hands on your hips gently, running them up and down.

leaning towards your ear, he whispers. “be good for me, yeah?”

your legs subconsciously squeeze together, and he cups your cheeks with his palms. he leans in slowly. he hesitates when his lips ghost yours to see if you’d protest, but because you don’t, he kisses you.

his tongue licks your lips to indicate that he wants you to open, but you don’t. you feel the coldness of his rings on the side of your neck before he squeezes. when you gasp at the sudden contact, that’s his sign for his tongue to enter your mouth. “you promised you’d be good.” he says between the kiss.

you smirk. “i didn’t promise anything.”

he snarls, leaning back in. the make-out goes on for at least thirty seconds before he pulls away, the lipstick you had on now smeared on both of your mouths.

your eyes have a mind of their own and look down, seeing his rock-hard erection as clear as day through his jeans. “get on your knees.”

your eyebrows shoot to your hairline at the sudden tone change, but you obey either way.

he wastes no time to unbuckle his belt to pull down his jeans, his dick springing out right in front of you. the tip is red and leaking pre-cum. you open your mouth wide without him having to tell you, and he smirks.

leaning in, he grabs your hair and stops you. “no.” he says.

instead, he slaps the head on your tongue before pushing in slowly. it’s like you can feel every vein enter your mouth, gagging in the process when he’s deep in your throat. “holy shit.” he breathes, seeing how much of him you took.

it’s not all of it, but it’s more than he thought. you give him puppy dog eyes through your lashes, despite them being glossy.

he starts to thrust into your mouth, jaw slack as he watches his dick run past your lips in one swift motion. the grip on your head stays tight, him hunching over slightly to get deeper.

you moan at the shape protruding in your throat, the gagging and sloppy wet noises making you turned on even more. “fuck i’ve been wanting to do this since you opened that pretty fucking mouth of yours.” he pants, moving at an ungodly speed that makes it hard for you to breath. “do you just let random guys use this mouth? sure seems that way.”

you moan again, lifting yourself off of the ground the tiniest bit so you can feel the top of his shoe on your swollen clit.

whimpering at the feeling, you start to grind yourself on it while he still fucks your mouth. your arms wrap around his leg, humping faster like a bitch in heat.

“that’s a little pathetic.” he laughs hoarsely, groaning when his dick twitches. “so, so needy for me.”

you let out a pained sob because along with your throat, the feeling of you grinding also hurts. it would be best if you had something way more than his shoe.

“s-shit.” he whimpers, pulling out to where only the tip is in your mouth, making sure you get all of his cum on your tastebuds. he smears the rest on your lips.

matt lifts you from the ground, bending you over the small table that they have. he grabs your ass before giving it a light spank.

it’s his turn to kneel now, simultaneously taking off your leggings. he bites your ass before sliding your panties over. you feel his breath against your aching core. “jesus christ.” he mumbles. “you’re dripping down your legs already. aren’t you just an eager thing?”

he spreads your folds with his thumbs, blowing cool air on them that makes you jolt. you’re too sensitive for that.

then, your phone starts to ring right next to you. it’s hannah.

shit.

you cannot not answer, because if you don’t she’ll think something is wrong. you swipe, putting the phone on speaker. “hell— oh.”

matt immediately digs into you, eating you out like he hasn’t eaten ever in his life.

“where the hell are you? i’ve been waiting by your car for like thirty minutes. using the bathroom shouldn’t take this long, y/n.”

the man below you squeezes your thighs, spreading yourself wider to practically be nose-deep inside of you. your eyes roll back hard, mouth hanging open with silent moans leaving it. “hello?”

“h-hannah i’m sorry i’ll— mm— be out s-soon. i’m sorry.”

“are you okay?” she questions.

with that, matt starts sucking at your bud, causing your legs to shake. you grip the table as hard as you can, your upper body giving out and laying flat on the surface in front of you.

“yes i’m fine!” you say, trying to reach for his head and push him away, but that only makes him grab onto you harder.

he’s fascinated by the way you taste it’s almost hypnotizing. your arousal drips down his chin, and the way he’s sucking has your orgasm wash over you without warning. “i’m cumming.” you whine, and you feel the smug smile on his face.

“oh, so you’re coming? thank god because it’s a little chilly out here,” hannah replies.

“fuck yes.” you moan but cover it by clearing your throat. “i mean, yes. i will be coming in a-a bit.”

she sighs through the phone. “okay.”

you quickly hang up without saying goodbye, holding on for dear life since your release knocked your legs out.

he holds you, getting up and wiping your cum off of his face. “you’re a bit of a bad girl, aren’t you?”

spank.

“leaving your friend out there all alone.”

spank.

“so that you can fuck me.”

spank.

“like a slut.”

spank.

you wince every time he hits you, the stinging tingling on your ass. he grabs your hips and arches you more.

he moves his tip up and down at your entrance teasingly, getting wetter by the second. “matt, please.” you whine, your pussy desperate for his cock. “please fuck me.”

he stops, waiting for a beat before pushing into you like it’s no big deal. he’s big for sure, but because of your wetness, he slides in perfectly. the both of you moan, and matt stares at where you conjoined. “your pussy’s fucking amazing.” he groans. “by far the best i’ve ever had.”

you start to bounce back on him since he’s taking his sweet ass time, but out of nowhere starts pounding into you.

whatever they have on the table starts to either fall or rattle from him railing into you. he takes your hands and pins them behind your back. “harder.” you wince out, and he whistles.

“you have no idea what you just asked for.” he says, doing the opposite and slowing down. “you won’t be able to speak, baby.”

baby. you moan at the nickname.

you’re way past the point of ‘omg i’m hanging out with matt sturniolo!’

you try bouncing your ass back again, but this time he smacks it and spreads your legs wider to plow into you deeper. “so impatient.” he sighs.

all you can do is scream and gasp for air with each thrust, hands balled up into fists.

your mind becomes blank once your eyes cross, your mouth hung open with your chin resting on the table. he hits just the right spot each time, squeezing around him.

“i— i—” you try to warn that you’re close, but your mind won’t let you.

he wasn’t kidding about the won’t be able to speak part.

“you can do it,” he says, knowing damn well you can’t.

your body becomes limp like a rag doll, matt having completely corrupted you.

he tuts fake pouting. “look who’s cock drunk. be a good girl and cum for me. you deserve it.”

blabbing a response, you squirt before cumming harder than before. usually, you’d be embarrassed, but you’re too far gone to care.

“that’s so hot.” he grunts, fucking you through your orgasm. “come on, baby. one more.”

“i can’t.” you sob, his hand letting go of yours before wrapping your hair not once but twice to lift your body to his.

“you can and you will,” he says, your third orgasm already building up in less than two minutes.

tears run down your face, eyes fluttering shut from the overwhelming amount of pleasure. there’s no way the human body can have this much pleasure and be okay.

matt kisses your neck, sucking a big mark when he finds the sweet spot. “i know you’re close already.” he says, his cum starting to leak into you deep.

you can’t stop your body from spasming, letting out one last sob before you cum again.

he pulls out, laying down on top of you and rubbing around your body soothingly to calm you down from your heavy breathing.

he covers your full cunt with your underwear so his cum doesn’t ooze out. he kisses your clothed pussy, and you flinch from the sensitivity. “making sure it’s in there.” he smirks.

after a few minutes, he helps you sit on the table to put your undergarments back on. your eyes are half closed from the post-sex haze.

matt grabs you water and a bag of chips before giving you one last hug. you guys talk for a little before he makes sure the coast is clear for you to get out without being seen.

you’re limping like crazy back to your car, seeing hannah impatiently tap her foot while leaning against the door.

once she sees you, she comes storming over. “you’re so lucky you’re my best friend or i would kill you.” she threatens. “i’ve been standing here for an hour.”

“i’m sorry.” you rasp out.

she studies your face, and it looks like you quite literally saw god. “oh my god, are you sure you are alright? you look like you got jumped.”

“it’s the after-show feeling.” you lie. “i’m exhausted. let’s go.”

she doesn’t question anymore, not even the random snacks and water you have. you start the car and place the stuff matt gave you down until you see there’s a post-it note attached to the bag of sour cream and onion.

to my favorite fan,

xxx-xxx-xxxx

text me when you get the chance, gorgeous

- matt :)

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @mayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @txssvx @sttzee @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @matthewsspecial @sturnolio-luvs @sturniolho @suga-daddy-69 @tworosesblackthorn @luckistar-posts @gnxosblog @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloslurps @tylerthecreatorsrealwife @flowerxbunnie @imaslut4kehlani @sturniolosandmoree @hertvgirl @whoreforchrissturniolo @r4iyaa @sturniolotriplettoplover @mattybswife @freshsturns @loverrsposts @sturnlcvr @elliesturniolo1 @tpvmz @user283926392 @lalalands86 @sukiipjs @sturniologirl813 @leahrab @chrissturniolosslut @h3arts4harry @sturnioloblogs @creamoncreamoncream2 @luv4kozume @ivyyyyyysposts @mirxcle1 @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @sturniol0s @sturniologirly @hbvfb

#matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo smut #✎ ⤾ haleigh’s requests!#[ ♛ ] ° • meet & greet

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writingouthere · 3 months

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singledad!sukuna x neighbor!reader; the promised prequel, you and Sukuna gaslighting each other into a relationship. You don't need to have read the first story to get this one but it's here! Yuuji is Sukuna's little brother but Sukuna has raised him since birth and Yuuji calls him dad.

cw: the vibes are bad but mutual so? like Sukuna is lying, scheming his way into being your husband but you are also lying, scheming to be his wife

Phase 1: Gaslight

Sukuna walked to the top of the landing feeling pretty fucking incredible. Today, he'd managed to beat the shit out of some crusty, old fucks who thought they could get some of their old territory back from him and Uraume. As a bonus, he'd managed to embarrass that nosy cop Yaga who was always bothering them.

Nothing like important evidence in a upcoming case mysteriously vanishing to get you some side-eye from the city. Sukuna thought that was what they deserved for using a closed circuit security cam system they'd probably bought in the 90's.

To add to this amazing day, he was about to get to eat dinner with his little brother and his gorgeous neighbor who was watching him.

His phone buzzed and Sukuna looked down to see a text from Uraume.

Where are you?

Another message followed shortly after.

Did you already go home? Is this about your neighbor? It's getting sad.

Sukuna chose to ignore his only friend and head for his apartment, which was conveniently across yours. Well at least it had proved convenient for him.

You had moved in a few months ago and Sukuna had been instantly smitten. As soon as you had introduced yourself to Sukuna, he knew it was over. He wanted you to look at him all the time, although he supposed he could let you give Yuuji some of your attention.

You had looked at his tattoos, his piercings, his dyed hair with some obvious interest, but then talked to him like he was a normal person. Maybe it was the effect of a clinging Yuuji calling him 'daddy', but you seemed to find him nonthreatening to an almost offensive degree. He found he didn't mind it.

He had offered you any help you might need, just from one neighbor to another and you had thanked him with all of your good manners on display.

You had taken him up on his offer of help when your radiator had stopped working a few weeks after you moved in. The super in your building was notoriously shitty and as such, had not been answering any of your calls or texts. Sukuna had fixed it while you and Yuuji drew some pictures and listened to some overly peppy pop music. When Sukuna had finished, you had insisted the two of them stay for dinner as payment and Sukuna couldn't help but accept.

You didn't need to know the radiator was broken in the first place because he had picked your lock and fucked up the valve the night before. You were clearly just as eager to get to know him as he was you, you just needed a little push and he was happy provide it.

Later, when telling you a story while you cooked, he knew he hadn't mistaken the pleased look in your eyes when he mentioned he was a single parent. He didn't let on that he noticed though and he continued telling you a story about Yuuji and Megumi's nearly successful attempt to kidnap a very confused hound from the dog park.

The boy had protested at his correct version of events. "His owner was mean!"

"Yuuji, he was a thousand and so was the mutt. He probably thought Megumi was the grim reaper finally there to take him home."

Yuuji had kept arguing while you laughed and laughed. Sukuna was quickly addicted to the sound.

Dinner had been delicious and the three of you spent the whole evening together. Sukuna couldn't help but think that it felt right.

Maybe he was growing soft in his old age, but he didn't hate the idea of coming home to this every night. After a stressful day of blood, gore and various shenanigans, it would be nice to come back to a kind face and a warm home. It helped that Yuuji, the brat, spent the whole night smiling so hard it looked almost painful.

After he put Yuuji to bed that night, Sukuna made a decision that he would be coming home every night to that. He just needed to get you on board.

He'd tried asking you out the normal way, but you had been hesitant. You had spouted some bullshit about a bad ex, needing to focus on your career, blah, blah. In your defense, you did look genuinely remorseful about turning him down, and Sukuna recognized in you a strong sense of self preservation and wariness that he understood. Sukuna told that it wasn't a problem. And it wasn't.

He just had to change tactics.

The idea had come to him a few weeks after you turned him down. You hadn't rejected him because you weren't interested, he knew that. Sukuna had seen the way you smiled at him, the hungry stare when his shirt would get caught when he took off a sweatshirt. You had clearly been hurt by people who hadn't deserved you and you were justifiably nervous. He needed to show you that he was here to take care of you.

God, he would be so good to you, you just didn't see it yet. By the time you realized what was going on, you would be so happy that you wouldn't mind the steps that you you there. He wasn't going to give you any other option.

This all led to him to the next part of his plan. Even though he had Yuuji in the most expensive daycare laundered money could buy, he had decided to tell you that there was a sudden issue with the center. He had kept it vague and you hadn't pressed him for details. The fact those details led to Yuuji needing childcare when you happened to not be at work, well that was just good fortune.

Like the good girl you were, you immediately agreed to watch Yuuji when he had called telling you the fake problem with the daycare. When it had happened again the next week, this time a work emergency he couldn't get out of, you agreed to help again. And then again and again and again until you were watching Yuuji at least two or three nights a week.

Now, some people may have a problem weaponizing their four-year old to get a woman to date them. Sukuna did not have this hang up. Afternoons watching Yuuji quickly turned into dinners with the three of you, and every day just brought you closer and closer to finally being together.

Sukuna had even worked up to some light touching. Just a quick brushing of his hand on your shoulder when thanking you, moving you aside by your hips when the two of you were in the kitchen. At first, you'd seemed a little unsure but now you had even begun returning his affection. You were quick to squeeze his hand or lean against him on the couch during your little family move nights.

Thinking about what he could get away with tonight, Sukuna knocks twice on his door before using his key to unlock it. Upon entering, he's immediately tackled by a mini-linebacker.

"Daddy!"

Used to the boy's antics, Sukuna caught him and closes the door with his hip before walking over to where you were stirring something on the stove.

"Hey kid, how was your day?" Sukuna asks Yuuji as you shoot them both a fond smile.

"It was amazing! Megumi's mom brought one of their dogs to daycare today and he was so fluffy...."

Yuuji goes on and on about his day while making sure to slip in how they should definitely get a dog every couple of sentences. Aside from how the idea of a creature existing only be to owned and loved at will by it's owners disgusting Sukuna, he also still keenly remembers the time Yuuji found a dead earthworm outside and cried for an hour. Being responsible for a living, shitting thing that would eventually die was probably still too much for him.

You find Yuuji's ramblings charming and even though you hadn't arrived at pick up early enough to see Megumi's mommy with the dog, you agree with Yuuji that he must have been a very fluffy boy indeed.

"Sounds like you had a good day," he says before looking over at you. "Thanks again for stepping in to watch the brat, I really appreciate it."

While Yuuji protests his less than affectionate nickname, you distract him by pinching his cheek. "No worries, Yuuji and I had a lot of fun. Right, Yuuji?"

"Yeah!"

Insult forgotten, Yuuji leans against Sukuna's shoulder while you put the finishing touches on dinner.

You're keeping Sukuna company while he does the dishes later when you bring something up that almost trips him up.

"You know, I talked to the daycare worker today and she was wondering why you weren't picking up Yuuji as much. She said you'd never missed a day before a few months ago."

You say it innocently, but there is a question implied there. What has changed?

He keeps it casual as he dries a plate with his newly aquired sunflower hand towel. "Yeah, it sucks not being able to get the kid every day, but work has really been on my case lately."

This wasn't true. Work was work, and even in the past he'd always prioritized time with Yuuji over getting extra jobs done. Now, he thought of the time he was gone as investing in Yuuji's future by making sure you would be a part of it. The extra cash he was bringing in would probably end up in Yuuji's college fund or as a down payment on a house for your soon to be growing family anyway.

Sukuna was actually quite thoughtful when you got down to it.

You take his words at face value. The two of you are chatting about some play the daycare would be putting on, where Yuuji would be starring as a particularly cheerful acorn, when his phone rang. Sukuna would normally ignore it, but the ringtone was one he had set specifically for Kenjaku and that fuck was not to be left unattended.

"Give me just a sec," he tells you before heading into another room.

"What the fuck do you want?" he asks, already bored with the conversation and impatient to get back to you and Yuuji.

It's some nonsense about a late shipment and incompetent people who are not Sukuna, and he gets more pissed as the minutes keep ticking. Finally, he tells the creep what he's going to him if he doesn't figure the mess out himself. It starts with some mild dismemberment and ends with an unspeakable act with his open skull once Sukuna rips out the stitches he'd recently gotten under mysterious circumstances.

He hangs up and goes out into the living room where you and Yuuji are watching tv. You're picking at your nail beds, something he's only seen you do when you're upset, but you give him a smile as he comes to sit down next to you.

He tells himself that he's being paranoid. The tv is loud and you're too good a girl to eavesdrop.

You leave not too long after the call and as you go to the door, you hesitate.

"Something on your mind," he asks wondering if maybe you heard something after all.

You shake your head and smile at him again. "No, it's nothing. I'm just so tired from work, honestly."

You turn to leave and he gently grabs your arm and pulls you closer. You look too taken aback for him to try and kiss you now, so he just presses his lips against your temple, taking in the smell of your hair and the warmth you give him.

"Good night, princess."

You give him a shaky good night in return and he watches you go into your apartment before he shuts the door. He can't keep the smug grin off his face, everything was going according to plan.

Phase 2: Gatekeep

You weren't going to stop anywhere on your way home from daycare but Yuuji really wants to go to the park and you just couldn't say no to his cute face. Sukuna said he would be home late anyway, since he was stuck at the office. Again.

You still didn't know what 'office' Sukuna worked at exactly ,but the hours seemed pretty wild. This was the fourth time in the past two weeks he'd called you, contrite in a way that didn't seem natural to him, asking if you could pick up Yuuji from daycare. You didn't mind helping him, in fact you loved hanging out with the four year-old. It definitely beat going back to your quiet apartment every night.

But still, it seemed weird for someone as in control as Sukuna to not have a better handle on his childcare. He's presumably had this job a while, and Yuuji hadn't been born yesterday. Considering you'd once watched an entire elevator of people in your building get out when they saw Sukuna get on, you doubted he could count on his other neighbors for last minute childcare.

There also that weird phone call you'd overheard that night at his place.

"Look, it's Megumi!"

You look to see where Yuuji is waving with his free hand while his other one is dragging you with inhuman strength towards a small boy with black hair and a very cultivated resting bitch face.

"Hi Megumi, it's nice to meet you. Are you Yuuji's friend?" The little boy nods and looks you up and down as you finish introducing yourself.

"Yuuji's talked about you." The boy looks like he's about to say more but Yuuji laughs and starts pulling him away towards the swings with calls for you to watch and see how high you can go.

Watching the two boys run around, you almost forget how cold you are and how confusing the past few weeks, few months really, have been.

"Ah, so you're the neighbor."

You turn and see a beautiful man walking up to you. His hair is long, styled in a half up-half down style that would make you look like you belonged to a weird religious cult, but on him looks fashionable. His coat is plain black, but you recognize the logo and are in awe that someone so wealthy would just bring their kid to a random public park.

You really don't get rich people.

"Um, who are you?"

The man laughs but it isn't a nice sound, it's a pretty sound, everything about this man is pretty, but his laugh isn't giving "laughing with you" vibes.

"I'm Suguru, Megumi's parent. I'm sure you'll meet my other half soon enough," he says with a fondness that makes you smile.

"Is your wife still at work?"

"Husband," he corrects kindly, as he sips from one of those expensive water bottles you're always seeing online. "And I suppose, I mean he's at work in the same way that Ryoumen is at work."

You feel that unpleasant feeling well up in you again, the one that told you the valve on the radiator had been there and been fine when you went to sleep that night. "Sorry, do they work at the same company or something?" You laugh but it's forced and the look in his eyes sharpens.

"Company?"

You're irritated now and with a look to confirm the boys are still preoccupied with each other you turn to this infuriating stranger with all the uncertainty and anxiety that has been building in you since Sukuna kissed your temple when you left the other night.

"Alright, what the fuck is going on? I don't know you or your husband or even Sukuna lately but it's obvious you're mixed up with some shady shit-"

"You're right, you really don't know anything." The words are said with the same kind tone from earlier, but there's something nasty underlying them.

"Let me help you out," Suguru says and his height helps him look down on you literally as he does so with his words. "Ryoumen is not your friend and all of these little situations you're finding yourself in, he's making them up. Normally, I wouldn't mind. However, Satoru and I made a bet on when you'd figure it out, or run for the hills. If this goes on much longer, Satoru is going to win and believe me, he'll be insufferable if that happens."

"How kind of you," you tell him and he just smiles in a practiced fashion. "So what is it exactly that I need to know? I already knew that Sukuna liked me."

"Like is an interesting word," Suguru says.

"What word would you use?"

Suguru thinks about it for a minute and takes another sip of his water. "Obsessed, possessive, irrational."

"I see why I would run for the hills," you say dryly and he laughs, actually amused this time.

"Maybe, it depends on what you're looking for."

You were curious despite yourself. "What do you mean?"

"I'll deny it if you ever tell either of them, but your Ryoumen and my Satoru have a lot in common. They're strong and self absorbed in a way that most people rightfully find off putting. They don't think other people are as substantial as they are, which they may be right about." You listen as he continues, unsure where this is going. "This means they don't have many weaknesses, but the weaknesses they do have are crippling."

"What weaknesses are those?" you ask but you have an idea, watching the two boys continue to chase each other around the swings.

"They don't care about many people, but the people they do carry about, they'll burn the world for. Satoru did the same bullshit with me that Ryoumen is pulling with you. Just pushing himself into my life little by little and rearranging everything until he was right at the center of it."

"What did you do when you found out?" You wonder how that had led to a marriage, and wonder if this was some basement wife shit. Suguru gives you an amused look like he can read your thoughts.

"He's not a....subtle creature, I knew almost right away."

You still feel lost. "Why didn't you confront him, tell him you knew what was happening?"

"He doesn't need to know everything, he has plenty on his mind as it is. Some information is better kept just for me."

In fairness, it is hard for you to see the man in front of you being manipulated into anything, but you still push. "It just sounds like you're excusing his behavior."

"I let Satoru have me, because I wanted what he was offering. He wanted a partner, someone to raise Megumi with after he killed his old man," you really felt like this required more explanation but Suguru kept going like he was talking about the weather. "He was my best friend and I loved him, I didn't mind if he wanted to make me his little housewife. I was tired of dealing with all that shit, anyway."

"So what? It's okay that he manipulated you into marriage, because you love him? That seems fucked up to me."

"Maybe, but I don't mind. You may not understand this, but I came from the middle of nowhere before I met Satoru. I was poor, I had nothing going for me except I was smart and was willing to do whatever work I could get, and I also happened to be the only out gay person I had ever met." You winced in sympathy and he sighed before shaking out his long, glossy hair.

"Besides, you're missing the point. You can either hold on to your false illusion of independence and move through life at the will of people and institutions bigger and more powerful than you," he says and gives you a pointed look. "Or you can choose to put your life in the hands of someone who can stand up to those institutions and people in your name."

"It just seems like picking your poison to me," but you can see what he means in spite of yourself. Years of shitty exes, jobs that exploited your labor, a life that had been harder than you wanted and at the end of the day an apartment empty of anyone to go back to. What did you really want here?

"Well I love Satoru, I know he loves me and Megumi, and that there is nothing and no one that he wouldn't face in order to protect us. What else could I want?"

Before you can answer his question, the same one you had asked yourself. Megumi calls out he's hungry and Suguru tells him they are going home. Both boys start to run over to the two of you.

"Just think about it. Soon it won't be your choice at all."

"Why are you really telling me this?" you can't help but ask and he looks at you.

"Because I think it should be your choice. They may be gods among men, but that doesn't mean they have to rule us." He gives one last calculated smile that sends shivers down your spine. "Having the ear of a god gives you a lot more than just a pretty ring, if you use it right."

Suguru and Megumi wave when they leave and Yuuji grabs your hand as the two of you make your way back home.

"Megumi's mom is so nice!"

"Yeah," you say a little distracted. But with every step towards your apartment, you become more sure of what you want and that gives you a sense of calm you'd been missing since Sukuna came carving his own path into your life. "He was lovely."

Phase 3: Girlboss

Sukuna looked at the ceiling of your apartment, which was just raining down water, and then looked at you.

"You said you woke up and it was just like this?"

He tried not to sound incredulous but damn, you must sleep like the dead. It was like the a fucking typhoon in here.

Your eyes teared up a little and you tugged at the baggy t-shirt you were wearing, which just brought his attention to how it barely reached your thighs and were you even wearing panties-

"I just don't know what to do Sukuna, do you think there's something wrong with the pipes?"

Sukuna tried his best to make eye contact with you and maybe if he'd been paying better attention, he would have seen your eyes were shining with victory, not tears, but alas he was only a man.

"Yeah, it looks like a pipe burst upstairs. That apartment has been empty forever, useless super must have not done anything to make sure it was good for winter."

You nodded and then let out a big sigh that managed to nearly drown out the water. "What if I can't stay in the apartment? Where am I going to live?"

Sukuna shook his head and wiped away a tear on your cheek. "Let me go check it out upstairs before you freak out, okay?" He took his key out and handed it to you. "Just go wait in my apartment okay, I'll let you know what I find."

You nod and Sukuna leans in and presses a kiss to your forehead before heading upstairs to the vacant apartment. The door is unlocked, Sukuna assumed to make it easier for prospective tenants to check it out.

As soon as Sukuna gets to the bathroom he sees the problem. A pipe is leaking. It seemed careless for the super to let it get to this point, but it wouldn't be hard to fix. In fact, Sukuna doesn't even have to go back to his apartment for any tools. A toolkit is stashed under the sink, next to where the pipe is leaking. Sukuna grabs a wrench and it doesn't take more than a minute to tighten the pipe up.

"Weird," Sukuna says but whatever. Not his job to critique shitty workmanship in a building he doesn't own at 3 in the morning. As Sukuna puts the wrench back, he notices the kit looks a lot like the little starter kit you have in your own apartment.

The super should really have better materials.

Sukuna returns back to his apartment to see you pacing across his living room and you just look so lost that he can't help but pull you into his arms. "It's fine, I fixed it. We'll just dry out your apartment and I can call someone to come look at it in the morning."

"What if it's not fixable? What if I have to move out-"

"You're leaving!"

Sukuna looks over your head to see Yuuji standing there, the little boy probably woken up by all the movement this late at night.

"No, no one's leaving Yuuji," he said but Yuuji's eyes still filled with tears anyway and you seemed stressed as well.

"I don't know, I might have to if there's any permanent damage."

Yuuji is actually crying now and you seem on the brink too, so Sukuna holds out his arms and you both crowd in, your face now hidden in his t-shirt.

"Even if something is wrong, you'll always have a place with us. It's all going to be fine." He held both of his precious people to him, unaware that he wasn't the only one smiling. "Don't worry."

Yeah, you weren't worried.

But, maybe Sukuna should be.

this took a weirdly long time, it maybe was meant to be broken up more, but hope everyone enjoys. next up is the closing arc of my singlemom! series.

the Suguru scene was the hardest thing I've written for this page and it got way more serious than I thought it would but it was the first scene I thought of for this story.

#jjk sukuna #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen sukuna #ryomen sukuna #sukuna ryomen #sukuna x reader #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x you #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jjk smut

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hazelsmirrorball · 3 months

Text

It's Not My Fault You're like In love with me or something | Charles Leclerc

SUMMARY: Y/n L/n new movie is opening new opportunities for her which means she has to do interviews were people can see her "lack of media training" and they start to doubt her relationship with Charles FACE CLAIM: Reneé Rapp pairings: Actress! Reader x Charles Leclerc a/n: I actually enjoyed the new mean girls movie and I am deeply in lov3 with reneé so here you guys go!

via twitter

y/nupdates via instagram

liked by username101, username23, yourusername and 1,390 others.

y/nupdates y/n leaving the after party after taking a tumble

view all comments

username19 now I know why Charles been mia she's literally making a fool out of herself

username123 mother

username12 ngl she ate with that fit

yourusername still can't believe that a fan account is the one that is exposing me

landonorris thanking the gods that the internet and Digital footprints is real

y/n via instagram

liked by danielricciardo, pierregasly, carlossainz55 and 1,903,290 others

yourusername cast party baby! No one got hurt in the making of these pics

view all comments

username120 okay? but Charles wasn't there?

username19 The paps pictures literally put you on blast

pierregasly I think the moment you took that picture with the champagne was the perfect moment to stop drinking

→ yourusername just looking for the person who asked

username15 the girls are fighting. Please @charles_leclerc come get your girl

→ yourusername Come get your girl @pierregasly

francisca.cgomes you look so so beautiful

username192 Charles not commenting freaks me out

via YouTube

yourusername via instagram

liked by landonorris, oliviarodrigo, arthur_leclerc and 2,302,290 others.

yourusername mean girls out in theaters now!

view all comments

username21 what? girl after that interview I would've turned the comments off

username12 don't you have media training or something

username19 her pr manager has to work harder than the mclaren one

username160 Mother

username12 it's so hard that the f1 fandom doesn't understand her humor

landonorris since my job isn't that hard Im taking a part time. What do we think about acting

→ yourusername I can send you an email. there an open cast call for dicks

via YouTube

yourusername via insta stories charles_leclerc via insta stories

yourusername via instagram

liked by landonorris, oliviarodrigo, charles_leclerc and 2,292,220 others.

yourusername her lack of media training is outrageous

view all comments

username190 girlie I'm so glad you are self aware about how iconic you are

username12 the girls who get it get it

username14 pls the caption

username280 her lack of media training is what makes y/n y/n

username189 her lack of media training is why we love her

username18 I'm tired of people saying that when it's literally you being yourself. Has no one ever seen her broadway videos?

username19 People saying that Charles can't stand her? hello read the room

username159 exactly! they forget that Charles knows she's like this and that why he loves her so much.

→ username1821 your parasocial relationship is insane

charles_leclerc via insta

liked by landonorris, yourusername, arthur_leclerc and 1,893,356 others.

charles_leclerc on wednesday I wear pink with the girl clumsy girl I feel in love with

view all comments

yourusername love you charlie

landonorris the movie wasn't half bad

arthur_leclerc stream sexy

comment have been restricted

...

Y/n turned to face Charles with a small smile adorning her lips. He mimicked her actions as he placed his phone in between the two of them. His hand slowly reached towards her face pushing the hair away to get a better look of her eyes.

“You don’t mind then?” Y/n asked softly her eyes never leaving his to notice if there was any sort of discomfort. He shook his head no, not breaking eye contact.

“What leaves me surprised is the fact that you think it would bother me. I know you already, I’m aware that sometimes people don’t get your humor but I’ve been long enough with you to understand it” He said slowly pecking your lips to calm you down. You let out a chuckle as you played with his hair.

“Actually, I was worried that you would have to worry about me beating your ass in F1” Y/n said, throwing her head back laughing. Charles playfully rolled his eyes pushing her shoulder softly, accidentally knocking her off the bed.

“Shit sorry!” he quickly got off the bed helping her off “but, you don’t even have your license, so I think you should stick to broadway”

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verstappen-cult · 5 months

Text

HOW YOU GET THE GIRL | CL16

— 01. THE BEGINNING

NEXT PART — [ SERIES MASTERLIST ]

summary: in which charles has an embarrassing crush on alex's childhood best friend and everyone meddles. content warnings: faceclaim is taylor hill but you can picture her as you’d like! some cursing. note: hiii i love being a little delulu, so i had to do this. it is also my first time doing a smau for the f1 fandom, so be kind with me! if you see some mistakes please know that english is not my first language and i noticed them once everything was finished, lol. ♡

INSTAGRAM POST

📍MIAMI, FL

Liked by lilycollins, alex_albon and 365,751 others

yourusername unexpected trip. 🧃

view all 4,655 comments

user1 Alex x Y/N content incoming????

user2 they haven't been seen together in a while user3 i don't think they're friends anymore user4 he left a comment lol

alex_albon brownie's the real star in this pic

yourusername forget about pic credits.

user5 she was in greece a couple of days ago, oh to be rich

user6 and pretty user7 and have famous friends user8 and BE famous

williamsracing Thanks for accepting our invitation, we can't wait to have you with us this weekend!

alex_albon YOUR invitation???

user9 we're sleeping in the fact that she's gonna be in the paddock this weekend for the first time

user10 she's living the dream

TWITTER

Y/N’s IMESSAGE

INSTAGRAM POST

Liked by haileybieber, tomholland2013, landonorris and 972,431 others

yourusername i only came here to drink and watch guys in very fast cars.

📸: @alex_albon who i had to physically drag out of his hotel room after free practice was over.

view all 3,865 comments

user11 caption is so real

user12 she's just like us fr

tchalamet call me next time you're in nyc

user13 ARIANA WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE user14 timmy is doing what all of us want to do

haileybieber pretty girl

user15 idk abt u guys but i see lando in the likes 👀

user16 don't read too much into it user17 they’re probable friends user18 i wanna be her

alex_albon i'm so good at taking pics i should dedicate my life to photography

yourusername please stick to driving

user19 i want their friendship :(

ALEX’S IMESSAGE

INSTAGRAM STORIES

Seen by zendaya, charles_leclerc and 287,386 others

there is no cause in calling or messaging alex, you know he will not answer. not when qualy is just an hour away and he needs to be prepared.

you don’t know where you are. you see the main entrance a couple of meters away, but you can’t remember where to go from there. but you also can’t stand all day in a place you don’t know, surrounded by fans and people too eager to notice how lost you look. the best you can do is walk around and find your way back; if you have any luck you’ll find alex’s garage before he has to go out. to wish him luck and punch him in the face.

you send him one last message, promising to make his life a living hell, and put your phone away.

you’re trying to follow the path you remember in your head, when someone comes barreling into you.

“hey!” the person says a little out of breath. “i was just looking for you.”

you take off your sunglasses to get a better look and it dawns on you that you definitely know this person. or at least you’ve seen him countless of times in your tv, sometimes in alex’s instagram stories too.

“charles!” you really don’t know him, this is definitely the first time you are speaking to him, but you’ve never been so happy to see someone you barely know before. “oh my god, you won’t believe what alex did to me.”

“i know,” he says immediately and you furrow your eyebrows. he shows you his phone, as if that will tell you what you need to know, but when you don’t speak, he smiles hesitantly. you don’t know if the blush on his cheeks is because he was running to get to you or if it’s for a whole different reason. “i saw your story and thought maybe i could help you?”

you process his words for a few seconds, until you realize who really is in front of you. “oh my god, charles!” you exclaim a little louder, drawing attention, and you witness how people begin to notice charles’ presence because of that. he looks at you with confusion on his face, race suit hanging low around his waist. “you’re not supposed to be here, you should be in your car.”

charles’ blush deepens. “yeah,” he says, scratching his neck and avoiding your gaze. “but i couldn’t leave a pretty girl here all alone.”

now it’s your turn to blush, cheeks heating up so much that you’re sure everyone around you can see it.

“let’s go, please. i don’t want to be the reason why you’re gonna be scolded for.”

you walk beside him, trying to give him space as he takes selfies with a few fans that have the courage to approach him. however, charles apologizes with a smile when he sees you a couple of meters away and, as you walk side by side, you can’t help but notice heads turning in your direction and whispers of your name and his.

you fall into an easy conversation that ends up sooner than you’d have liked. but you don’t part ways until his number is on your phone and the promise to text him on your lips.

TWITTER

Y/N’s IMESSAGE

INSTAGRAM POST

Liked by charles_leclerc, romeestrijd and 676,823 others

yourusername what an incredible weekend! i got to attend my first GP thanks to @/williamsracing (and alex too, he gets mad if i don’t say he had to do with it) and meet new and amazing people. let’s hope this is not the last. 🏎️🤞🏼

view all 7,665 comments

user20 SHE LOOKED SO BEAUTIFUL

user21 mother is mothering

williamsracing Oh no, thank YOU for accepting our invitation and enjoying with us, even if you got lost for a minute. 💙

yourusername it was all alex’s fault alex_albon NO DON'T LISTEN TO HER, THEY ARE FRAMING ME !!!!

user22 everybody calm down… CHARLES IS IN HER LIKES

user23 so it’s true what everyone’s been saying? they were together on saturday??? user24 idk but there are pics of them walking together user25 not my boyfriend trying to steal my girlfriend

romeestrijd you need to take me w you next time. ❤️‍🔥

yourusername we'll have so much fun! user26 does this mean you're going to the next race?

user27 why do people always assume a driver's dating someone when they like a pic??? u’re acting crazy

user28 like friendships between a man and a woman exists, HELLO !?!?

charles_leclerc thanks for stopping by.

user29 CHARLES WHAT user30 Stopping by where? user31 what do you mean?? i mean what do you- what do you mean??

user32 not Y/N replying to all her friends comments and not charles' 🤣🤣

user33 she's too much for him user34 HE'S too much for her x

note: ups, hello to you again… if you make it here, thank u sm! let me give you a lil kiss on the forehead. btw i’m planning on making this a series, so if you liked it please let me know. and if you want to request something, feel free! comments & reblogs are greatly appreciated. 🫶🏼

#꒰꒰ 📁 ─ verstappen cult files ꒱꒱#charles leclerc x reader #f1 social media au #f1 x reader #charles leclerc imagine #f1 smau #f1 imagine #social media au #charles leclerc #f1 grid x reader #f1 instagram au #charles leclerc fluff

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elodieunderglass · 1 year

Text

the first chapter of Moby Dick rewritten in tiresome modern idiom

CHAPTER 1. Loomings.

Call me Ishmael. Some years ago - it's none of your business how many - being mostly broke, and bored with the land part of the world, I thought I would sail around a little and look at the watery part of the world. I'm probably the most mentally healthy person you know. Whenever I feel my face getting grim; whenever it is a damp, drizzly November in my soul; whenever I find myself accidentally reading the ads in the window of funeral homes, and following funeral processions through traffic; and especially when I'm hangry, and only my extremely strong moral principles stop me from deliberately going out in public and methodically slapping people's earbuds out - then I know it's high time to get to sea, ASAP. This is my substitute for getting in fights. I'm too mentally healthy to kill myself; I quietly and considerately put myself on a ship and sail myself away instead. There is nothing surprising in this. Everyone feels exactly the same way, and if they don't, they're lying.

You think I'm lying? Exhibit A: a city. Go to your local coastal city. Everyone is looking at the water. They drive over from other neighborhoods just to come to the water. They make a day of it. They're not doing anything, they're just staring at the ocean. Why? Is it because they all work office jobs? No! Here come more of them! They cram themselves up to the edge of the water and stare at it. WHAT DO THEY WANT? WHAT ARE THEY LOOKING AT. Perhaps the ships themselves all packed together, each one with several compasses on it, creates some kind of critical mass - all of the small compass-magnets on all the ships in the harbor combining into one really big magnetic field - and the people get sucked into the field and trapped there. That's science.

Exhibit 2: the countryside with lakes in it. Every path you follow in the countryside brings you to some water, such as a stream. There is magic in it. If you take your standard fool with ADHD dissociating in the middle of a supermarket and put them outside and give them a shove, they'll automatically lead you to water (if there is any nearby) (try it). Another good experiment to try is to get lost in the great American desert in a caravan supplied with a metaphysical professor! Try it in the great American desert at home!

Yes, as everyone knows, meditation and water are a match made in heaven. Married forever. That's science.

Here's an artist who wants to paint you the dreamiest, most enchanting landscape. What does he put in it? Trees, meadow, cows, a cottage with smoke coming from the chimney, obviously. He will probably put a path in it and make lots of triangular mountains in rows and have them be different shades of blue (naturally.) But there's gotta be a stream in it. Go visit the prairies in June, and wade for forty miles through knee-deep through tiger lilies. What's missing from this picture? Water!

If Niagara Falls was made of sand instead of water, would you travel your thousand miles to see it? Why would a guy given a handful of cash have trouble deciding whether to buy a coat (which he needed) or go to the beach? Why are all the best, healthiest, sexiest and most mentally healthy people obsessed with the sea? (You get me.) When you were first on a boat, did you not succumb to VIBES? Consider ancient Persia. Consider ancient Greece. They understood about vibes, and also gods.

SURELY ALL OF THIS IS NOT WITHOUT MEANING.

And still deeper the meaning of that story of Narcissus, who because he could not grasp the tormenting, mild image he saw in the fountain, plunged into it and was drowned. But that same image, we ourselves see in all rivers and oceans. It is the image of the ungraspable phantom of life; and this is the key to it all! You get me! You understand it now.

Now, when I say that I am in the habit of going to sea whenever I get weird, don't you dare imply that I buy a ticket and get on a boat. I have never had money in my life. How dare you. Anyway I don't go as a passenger - that's bougie, and something boring people do. Passengers never have a good time. And although my C.V. is incredible - I go to sea SO MUCH, you guys, I have lots of experience - I don't go as a boss, or a cook. That sounds like far too much work. Hard work. Disgusting, respectable, bougie, and far too responsible. I can literally only look after myself. Do not ask me to look after ships or shit. In fact, I have only a vague idea of what a ship is. There's so many different kinds of ships - don't get me started and DO NOT GET INVOLVED. Also, I'm allergic to glory.

It's kind of attractive to go as a cook. I mean, I'm allergic to glory and there's some glory attached to the position of the ship's cook, but, like, you're not management-track and so it's still credible. But I don't really want to cook (say) roast chicken. I really fucking love to eat roast chicken. I'm one of the best at doing it actually. I really appreciate when people go out of their way to butter, season, baste and roast a chicken for me. Picture a roast chicken and I am Looking Respectfully at it. Maybe something more, maybe I'm worshipping it. Don't make this weird. If you want to get weird about my relationship with roasted chicken, why aren't you getting weird about the ancient Egyptians? They ate roasted hippos (look it up) and the pyramids were basically pizza ovens. So it's pretty hypocritical to think that I'm being weird about roasted chicken when I've never made mummies out of chickens or built a religious pizza oven dedicated to honoring them: check and mate, haters.

Anyway - I like to go to sea as a manual laborer. A simple sailor. Salt of the earth… er… sea. Yeah, true: as a job it sucks. They make you jump around, order you around, treat you like shit. They expect you to jump around the boat like a grasshopper. And yes, at first, this sucks. It's degrading, especially if you come from a middle-class family. Worse, it's awful if you've already had some kind of professional job before signing on to be the dirt on the boss's boots - like, if you went to college and worked as a teacher and actually got kids to pay attention to you, really feeling this connection to work/teaching/identity or some shit, and now you are just literally the scum on this captain's boots, in the lowest possible job in the world. It hurts! It hurts your dignity. But the hurt, and also the dignity, both wear off in time.

So what if some old bastard sea captain orders me - ME! - to get a broom and sweep down the decks? What does that indignity amount to, compared to the shit in the Bible, compared to the shit in the news, compared to the shit everyone else has to take. Do you think the archangel Gabriel thinks anything the less of me, because I promptly and respectfully obey that old hunks in that particular instance? Who ain’t a slave? Tell me that. We're all just serfs under capitalism, right, so why not just be honest about it: I prefer the honesty. Anyway, however the old sea captains may order me about - slapping and punching of course - I have the satisfaction of knowing that it's the same experience everyone else on Earth has, but more honest. Everyone else in the world is being served the exact same way. Either in a physical or a metaphysical way - sometimes people get the shit beaten out of them in person, sometimes online, sometimes emotionally, it happens to you in EVERY JOB, you sign on to get pushed around and slapped in the teeth: so the point is that when you're a sailor, it's a clean and honest slap. All the workers of the world share the same universal slap to the face that gets passed round, one slap passed all 'round the chain, like paying it forward, but it's a slap; and we should all accept this Universal Slap as the price of living, and then offer each other healing back massages, brother to brother, and slap each other and then kissed the places we slapped, and be happy.

I could examine that but I'm not going to.

Anyway: I always go to sea as a sailor. I've said that already. You're welcome. BUT THE POINT IS, they pay you. If you're a passenger, they don't pay you, at least, not that I've ever heard of [citation needed] (do they pay passengers?? Is there a job I can get where I can be a passenger and get paid?? Look this up.) Yeah so passengers have to pay. And there is all the difference in the world between paying and being paid. The act of paying is perhaps the most uncomfortable infliction that the two orchard thieves entailed upon us. (That's Adam and Eve. You get it.) But BEING PAID. GETTING PAID IS THE BEST. NOTHING COMPARES TO GETTING PAID. EVERYONE LOVES THAT SHIT. Which is surprising, since we also apparently believe that money is the root of all evil, and isn't there something in the bible about "no rich people can get into heaven," right? And yet it's universal, literally everyone loves payday. Ah! How cheerfully we send ourselves to hell.

Finally, I always go to sea as a sailor (I've said this already) because it's FRESH AIR AND EXERCISE. Okay so think about ships. Normally, bosses stand on the "bridge" thing, and because we're sailing a boat, the nose is going into the wind and the butt part of the boat is at the back. That's how wind works. But if you think about it, winds usually go in one direction more than other directions (unless the men have been eating beans and farting: it's Pythagoras, look it up) SO if you're a boss standing on the boss-deck, the wind is blowing FROM the sailors TOWARDS you, and YOU ARE ACTUALLY BREATHING THE AIR THAT SAILORS ALREADY BREATHED. The boss THINKS he breathes it first, but he doesn't. He gets the air at the BACK of the boat and sailors get the air at the FRONT. So it's better to be at the front of the boat (sailor) for health reasons. This is a metaphor for life and work, etc.

But I have smelled the sea lots of times as a paid sailor and WHY I should decide to go on a whaling expedition - ok so you know how there's an invisible police officer of the Fates who has me under constant surveillance, who secretly dogs me, and influences me in some unaccountable way? YOU get me. You know him. "The poor FBI agent tasked with reading my search engine history" YOU GET ME. Anyway, "Ishmael, why, after having a perfectly well-reasoned, and very smart of you, part-time job as a spontaneous random sailor, did you decide to escalate that to joining a WHALING EXPEDITION, which is worse in every way?" Well, ask my fucking secret FBI agent, he can answer better than anyone else. Including me. You get me. Also, obviously, this was predestined, part of the Universe's Grand Programme for its talent show, which was all scheduled way before our time. The concept of sending me on the whaling voyage comes in as a kind of interlude or solo between the main performances of the Universe's great talent show. I bet it was advertised llike,

"PRESIDENTIAL ELECTION OF THE UNITED STATES EMBROILED IN ONGOING LEGAL DISPUTE.

Whaling voyage by some guy called Ishmael.

BLOODY BATTLE IN AFGHANISTAN."

Like a commercial break in between the big acts. A filler episode. Lightens the load for everyone else. Though I can't explain why the stage managers - the Fates - chose such a shitty role for me, a WHALING VOYAGE of all things, when it feels like others were given magnificent parts in high tragedies, and short and easy parts in genteel comedies, and jolly parts in farces - it seems a little unreasonable at first. Why doth Ishmael get shat upon, etc. But then I think about all the circumstances, the plot points and motivations that were cunningly presented to me under various disguises - FBI agents, bouts of random hanger, gay awakenings, you get me - and you can see that actually, I was set up. And worse, between them all, these Fates and Circumstances conspired to make me believe it was all my own choice and good judgment. Is Free Will an illusion? Are my decisions bad? We will NEVER know because I, Ishmael, am just a little guy that the Universe plays head games with.

One of the ways the Universe tricked me into starring in this performance and then mocking me for it was the overwhelming idea of the great whale himself (whaling expeditions usually contain whales.) Such a portentous and mysterious monster roused all my curiosity. Then of course, if you have a whale, you have the wild and distant seas where the whale rolls around with his body-the-size-of-an-island; the dangers and nameless perils of the whale; whales are also found in interesting places I haven't seen; this all tipped me over the edge. Maybe normal people could've resisted, but I am tormented with an everlasting itch for obscurity. I hate everyone else's oceans. I want the forbidden seas.

You know The Horrors? Of course you do. You might be surprised that I, the most mentally healthy person you've ever met, a person who is self-aware enough to go to sea when they're at their fucking limits, a guy who likes fresh air and manual labor and normal things, is familiar with The Horrors. Well, you'd be surprised. I know what's good, I'm an extrovert. But I'm still quick to perceive The Horrors. And how I deal with the horrors is a very extroverted thing: I'm social with them, if they'll let me. It's smart to be on good terms with The Horrors. You should always be on good terms with your permanent neighbors. That's how extroverts deal with The Horrors, and I recommend it.

I think that's enough explanation for why I welcomed the whaling voyage. The great flood-gates of the wonder-world swung open, and in the wild figments of imagination that pushed me into doing it, the whales came marching two by two, hurrah, hurrah. They marched into my innermost soul in endless processions and occupied it, you see, I was quite helpless under this occupation - I consented to the haunting and the whales marched in to haunt me - and amidst them all was one grand shrouded white phantom, like a snowy mountain in the air.

You get it.

You know how it is, with whales.

(read the actual first chapter of Moby Dick here: https://www.gutenberg.org/files/2701/2701-h/2701-h.htm)

#mody bick

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bizbat · 3 months

Text

When They're In Love HCS - Jason Todd

~ Fem terms used for reader

~ Partially based on these headcanons

🕸️Spiderverse Masterlist🕸️

🐼JJK Masterlist🐼

~ You can find part two here, and part three here.

~ You can find more of my works here

Jason Todd seems like the type to fall hard and fast. He might not admit it for a while, but he's been developing feelings for you from at least the second or third time you met.

He's the type to call you "Wifey" or "The Missus" even when you aren't married and regardless of whether or not you to plan to.

He absolutely keeps a picture or two of you in his wallet, and no, he doesn't think it's cheesy in the slightest.

He's the type to lay on you. Your chest, your tummy, even your butt if you're laying on your stomach, your size and weight is irrelevant.

You'll be minding your own business, laying down and reading a book or playing on your phone, and he'll come out of nowhere and drop all 230+ lbs of muscle on your smaller body.

If you wheeze and try to crawl out from under him, try to push his giant hulking form off of you, he'll just wrap his arms around you and tell you he's tired, and just needs a few minutes of sleep.

Doesn't actually spend as much time reading as he would like to, but if you enjoy reading he'll always find time to do it with you.

If libraries had gold card memberships, he would be the one to have it. He'd rent any and as many books as you want.

Sometimes, he'll go out of his way to find books he thinks you'd like or that you can read together. Sometimes, he'll even give you old books from his personal library if he thinks you'll enjoy them as much as he did

I don't think he's be huge on giving gifts, I see him as more of a quality-time type (but i see almost all of the bats as quality-time types so take that with a grain of salt), but I do think he'd give you lots of tiny gifts all the time.

He'll pick up a quick breakfast for the both of you at the local bodega, he'll get your pet treats, he'll bring over your favorite candy or snack everytime he comes over to your place, etc.

Loves movie nights. Doesn't matter which movie it is, it could be some dumb, low budget nightmare made to babysit kids, or the best piece of visual media ever made by human hands.

He loves being able to talk to you, he loves hearing your opinions, loves hearing your voice. He'll recommend movies to watch just because he knows you'll have a lot to say about them.

I don't think he'd have a big moment where he introduces you to his entire family, I think he'd introduce you slowly, one person at a time.

I think he'd start with Dick or Cass, or Alfred, then so on and so forth. I think Tim and Damian would either be dead last, or have to find out on their own.

The only reason the others were told by Jason straight up is because they have that bare minimum amount of respect to stay out of his business. 💀

If you're a civilian, I don't think he'd want you to have anything to do with the more dangerous side of his life. It's bad enough you're dating him to begin with, he doesn't want to put you at anymore risk.

It's a somewhat different story if you're another vigilante. I still don't think he'd want you involved in his work specifically, but he would at least know you could take care of yourself if it came down to it.

He almost always wakes up before and goes to bed after you.

He likes seeing you when you're asleep, your hair a mess, or your bonnet askew.He thinks you're so cute when you're sleeping.

I don't think he'd take lots of pictures, but i don't think he'd mind if you did.

He might actually enjoy it if you just have a ton of selfies with him.

You are his lockscreen. Whether that was a decision made by you or him is still up for debate.

Doesn't care if you're more masculine or feminine, i think he'd find something to enjoy about both aspects.

Or if you were more androgynous.

He'd for sure call you "My girl".

A list of names I think he'd call you: My girl/wife, Wifey, Angel, Sweet thing, Princess, Baby

I've said it before and I'll say it again, the man LIVES for domesticity.

Even if you aren't married, you guys will act like an old married couple.

He's not my personal fave, but guess I had a lot of thoughts about him lol

#bizbat #jason todd x reader #jason todd hc #jason todd headcanons #dc headcanon #dc #red hood #red hood x reader

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luveline · 6 months

Note

Girl pls pls write stripper reader and Spencer where she thinks he would never date her bc she’s a stripper and just a sprinkle of angst with lots of comforting fluff and Spencer reassuring

thank u for requesting! ♡ fem, 1.5k

cw mentioned past domestic/workplace abuse, unhealthy eating habits

Someone broke into my apartment. 9:14AM

Spencer reads the message under the table but forgoes discretion when he registers what it says and who it's from. He excuses himself from the round table, something he isn't even sure he's allowed to do, and hurries out onto the landing.

You answer on the second dial. "Hey, did you see my text?" you ask.

"Are you okay?" He squeezes his phone.

"I'm not sure. I'm fine, but my lock is busted and the door won't stay shut."

"Where are you?"

If you're surprised that he's steamrolling, you don't show it. Spencer leaves work to meet you at the coffee shop you've chosen for refuge, your eyes tired, a small bag of your most important possessions hanging on a slumped shoulder. He hugs you straight away.

"I'm fine," you say into his neck.

He hugs you tighter. "That's good," he says, feeling useless, fingers stroking little paths into your shoulders. He pictured the worst from your text, and seeing you in person is the only true mitigator. You'll talk down bruises and black eyes —you have in the past.

He pulls the story from you as you walk back to his apartment, shoulder to shoulder in the cold street. "It was open when I got home, the door, but I did what you asked me to."

"You didn't go in?" he confirms proudly.

"Not at first."

"You really won't call the police?"

"I texted you."

Spencer takes the strap of your bag from you and throws it over his own. "I'm not that kind of cop. I'm not really a cop at all."

"No, you're a fed, which is worse. The girls at work told me to stay away from you." You wipe under your eyes sluggishly. Sleep clings to you like a shadow trailing behind you, ever-present.

He puts his hand behind your back, worried you'll fall up the steps to his apartment building. "They think I'll what, extort you?"

You shake your head, something sad in the slow side to side. "Girls like me have no business around guys like you."

"You probably get too much business from guys like me."

You laugh, but you both know it's not what you meant. Spencers noticed it more and more lately, nothing so obvious until now, this dead set belief you hold that he's one type of person and you're another. He gets that your work isn't what you wanted for yourself when you were growing up. He knows it isn't easy, even on your 'good' nights. It takes a toll to be seen as you are, nothing left private. But you've always said you liked stripping as much as anyone should like their job. "It's a job," you'd said, having barely known him, tired and hungry, curled up on his couch with nowhere else to go. "Only the luckiest get to really enjoy work. S'why it's called work."

He'd hoped, perhaps in a self-absorbed way, that having more support might make you feel better about yourself; he wanted his friendship to give you some confidence, basically. Before you met Spencer there was no one else you could depend on. It's why you stayed working for a man who broke your wrist until Spencer weaselled his way into your life and made you a bed in his living room for the time it took to get you out. His credentials helped, of course, but you survived it because you're resilient. You're awesome. You've done everything you can with what you have and you don't think it's enough.

You and Spencer take the elevator to his floor, and for the twenty seconds it takes to get there, you let your cheek rest on his shoulder. He's just about to drop his head on top of yours when the doors open, and the slice of quiet you'd both savoured slips like sand between his fingers.

"I can go back and get some of your stuff," he offers, guiding you the short walk to his door. He passes you the key rather than struggle with the lock himself.

Your hand shakes as you push down the handle. "There's nothing worth going back for."

"Don't say that, you have all your clothes there, your couch. You have things. I'll take my car."

"You hate driving."

"I'd hate someone robbing you even more."

"Robbing me again," you correct, holding the door for him.

You didn't have anything worth the trouble, it seems. You keep your savings in a locked box hidden in the bathroom that they couldn't find, and though your apartment is clean and bigger than the one you lived in before Spencer met you, it's mostly empty. You don't have a TV, you're not a collector. They took the radio off of the refrigerator, your microwave oven, and a box of cosmetic jewellery worth chapel change.

"But it's your stuff. You deserve to have stuff." Spencer drops your bag gently and his with less care by the door.

"It's only until the locksmith can come tomorrow," you say with a yawn. "Let the junkies lavish in my stuff for the next twenty hours."

"That's not a problem for you?"

"I don't have the luxury of that being a problem for me, Spence. What am I supposed to do? The locksmith can't come–"

"There are a hundred locksmiths."

"Not that I can afford." You shrug out of your jacket. "Spence, listen to me. It's okay. I can't ask you to do that, anyways. You've done more than enough for me already," you say, sitting on the couch. You perch for a moment like you're trying to be polite until fatigue overtakes you, and you sink into the cushions with a relieved sigh.

Spencer crosses the space between you and kneels by your feet to untie your shoelaces.

"Don't do that," you mumble, hand over your mouth as a second yawn in as many minutes catches you.

"Why not?" He slips your shoes off, letting his hand rest on your ankle. "Wanna watch that weird cooking show–"

"Why aren't you at work?"

He climbs onto the couch next to you, unafraid to sit shoulder to shoulder. "You were having an emergency."

You rub your face with both hand. "I knew I shouldn't have called you. You can't just leave work because of me, Spencer, what if you get in trouble?"

"Someone I care about needed my help, and Hotch understands that." Spencer puts on his big boy pants with a wince. "Do you get that?"

"I don't really… I don't…" You falter. "We're never going to work. You'll never…"

"I'll never what?" he asks insistently, voice lilting up with a little incredulity. He can't help it.

You refuse to answer, turning your face from his.

Spencer knows what you're going to say. He's bad with girls but he's good at recognising human emotion; he sees the same insecurity in himself as he does in you. He knows the feeling.

You're not right, is the thing.

Spencer would kiss you if he thought that would change your mind. But tired as you are, angry with yourself, defeated, he knows it's not a good idea. He takes your hand instead, sewing your fingers together with a deliberate slowness. He brings his other hand to them and strokes the back of your index finger with his thumb, careful not to disrupt your press on nails. He knows they have a tendency to come off with too much pressure, and you're always losing your glue.

"If they really need me to go, they'll call me. But I'm staying here." His thumb moves down to your knuckle. You have little calluses and cuts and bruises everywhere from dancing. He's seen the contusions that line your thighs on a semi permanent basis. "When was the last time you had something to eat?"

"Spencer," you murmur.

"Let me take care of you, please," he says, hand curling around your wrist with extreme gentleness. "You need to eat. You need to sleep. Let me worry about everything else for once, I want to."

You still don't look at him, but you sink down an inch at a time until your cheek is on his shoulder again, like it had been in the elevator. Hesitant, you wrap your arm around his stomach.

"I'm so stupid," you say.

He wonders if that's a placeholder for what you really want to say. You think so little of yourself sometimes, but it's like you've told him before. Not everyone has the luxury of enjoying their job.

"You're amazing." Spencer feels like he's on fire everywhere that your skin touches him. Is he saying the right things? "You are. You're the only person who doesn't see that."

"The only person here, maybe."

"You should always be here, then. With me. That way I can remind you."

You sound more like yourself when you answer, though tiredness lines every word, "Thank you, Spencer. I don't deserve you."

"Yes, you do."

Spencer rubs your hand until you fall asleep, and then he buys you a new toaster oven on his phone, and an industrial security lock. He doesn't know what it'll take to convince you that you deserve him, you deserve better, but he's gonna try.

He presses his cheek to your temple and focuses on the softness of your skin where it touches his.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader

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saksukei · 7 months

Text

subtle things captain john price does for you

masterlist | simon ghost riley version

captain price always promised himself to not have favorites. but all of that changes when you’re recruited by the task force. it's only then that john realizes he might not be that good at keeping promises after all. he conceals it well but let’s be real, he’s not fooling anyone.

a firm believer of acts of service as the best way of expressing his pent up emotions (he feels like he’s gonna die before ever confessing). so he’ll do such nice things. from letting you sleep in his bed, to taking first watch, to ensuring that you’re always comfortable, well fed and warm. he also offered you his cigar once and had a laughing fit when you choked as he pat your back.

after mission celebrations at a local bar, he has absolutely cute drunk pictures/blurry selfies of the entire crew which he later looks at smiles. he will absolutely escort you home, let you sleep on his shoulder and even carry you. “need help getting up?” prays you don’t remember it in the morning.

ALWAYS looks to you for approval. he doesn’t care if there are more decorated people present in the room, he’ll always look at you as if it’s just you and him. “you’re with me, yeah?” and he listens to your suggestions more than others. any time he has something mischievous up his sleeve, he looks at you with a smirk, head tilting because he knows you’ll read him.

he feels so protective over you. during missions, always checks where you are, what you’re doing. god forbid if anyone let’s him know that you’re in harm's way, he will claw his way out of hell if he has to, to get to you. “you alright?” you’re the first person he visits after the missions are over. “what’s wrong?” he asks, softly, his head tilting in your direction, eyes full of concern.

he enjoys your presence so much, especially if you and him are working in the same office. he feels at peace having you near him. he occasionally offers you tea and shares a sarcastic quip here and there, ensuring that the atmosphere is comfortable. he also loves it when you just talk. you have all of his attention and he picks on so many details about you that he tucks away to think about later. (cannot stand to see you upset because it makes him upset).

when it comes to you, his memory is so incredibly sharp. can easily remember your likes, dislikes, stories of your childhood, everything. he has you committed to memory and he can absolutely figure it out when something’s out of place. “nice haircut. it suits you.”

when it comes to training, he enjoys gun fights so much!! and he’s so smug about it too. “i know you can do better than this.” to “thought you were skilled enough to take on me?” also coaches you side by side because like hell is he gonna take a risk when it comes to you. “knew you could do it” he remarks, a grin on his face.

he’s your biggest supporter and it’s very evident. from him saying, “good job” on comms to “i’m proud of you” and the one time he accidentally let “that’s my girl” slip. simon snickered because he knew captain had such a soft spot for you.

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thankskenpenders · 7 months

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Amy's fortune cards

The Sonic fandom has long been the kind of fandom that takes minor details very seriously, for better or worse. On the one hand, this means fans will really dig for the diamonds in the rough, latching onto fun character interactions, animations, bits of background worldbuilding, and more in pieces of Sonic media that many would write off as "the bad ones." But it also feels like every week another needlessly hostile debate over Sonic minutia erupts on Twitter, whether it's over individual lines of dialogue, fanart that makes Tails' shoes blue, or the ideal length and volume for Sonic's quills.

So it was probably inevitable that a fandom-wide debate would erupt upon seeing Amy's new gameplay style in the DLC for Sonic Frontiers, which takes the once-obscure fact that she enjoys reading tarot and shines a spotlight on it like never before.

I mean:

The thing is, while I basically always try to tune out Sonic fandom bickering... for once, I kind of sympathize with the detractors? Don't get me wrong, I like Amy's tarot stuff, and people on all sides of the discussion are being overly nasty about their opinions, as usual. (Sonic Twitter remains my personal hell.) But when I set aside the hyperbole and zoom out, I do think I understand why some fans are put off by the sudden shift in focus for the character, even if I think it's cool.

It's complicated. Let me attempt to present the cases for and against Amy's fortune cards

For years, I was always one of those fans who thought it could be fun if they played with Amy's tarot reading, or even leaned into some kind of magic with her. Part of that is my own biases showing, but there's just something that makes sense there, especially when you look at Sonic, Tails, and Amy as a trio. (I would argue that's the real "Team Sonic" these days, especially in the comics where Knuckles is more likely to be stuck on Angel Island or otherwise doing his own thing.)

You could argue that Tails is all about logic, relying on science and technology and deductive reasoning to solve problems. But Amy is all about emotion. She wears her heart on her sleeve, is extremely empathetic, and is very prone to magical thinking - both figuratively and sometimes literally. Her origin story has always been that her tarot cards told her it was her destiny to meet Sonic on Little Planet. She's claimed to be able to "sense" peoples' presences - particularly Sonic's. She's the type to believe that The Power of Love is a literal magical force. So, on some level, it makes sense to mirror Tails's science by having Sonic's other best friend believe in magic. And then Sonic is somewhere in the middle, primarily following his own gut instincts but taking advice from both of them as needed. This isn't totally accurate to how their dynamics actually function in canon stories, but I think it's a mode that could work for them.

Going off of that, it's fun to lean all the way into Amy being a magical girl, or even a witch, using her fortune telling as a foundation. Take, for example, this version of Amy from Diana Skelly's old Sonic cast redesigns from before she freelanced for Archie and IDW. This is one of MANY such redesigns for Amy.

Fast forward to the 2020s, and Amy's tarot cards are, in fact, finally getting brought up again in canon. Which is fun! I like seeing that. I like all of the individual stories involving Amy's fortune cards. This is a fun character trait for Amy, a fun nod to old lore, AND a fun storytelling device, all in one. It's really cool that the Sonic universe has its own thematically appropriate arcana, and that the cards are getting made as physical merch. And sure enough, the official card backs and borders were designed by none other than Diana Skelly, in yet another cool example of an ascendant fan leaving their mark on the series.

BUT... when you step back and look at the big picture, I get why some fans find this shift in focus jarring. At the moment, it's starting to feel like every new story about Amy involves her fortune cards to some degree.

The most recent mainline comic arc to feature Amy as the lead character, 2021's Trial by Fire arc, prominently features a sequence where she reads fortunes while camping with the girls. The Origins version of Sonic CD now bookends the game with scenes of Amy and her tarot cards. Sonic randomly mentioned it in a scene in Frontiers. And now, just this week, we got the (very cute, gorgeously illustrated) Amy's 30th Anniversary comic with a story revolving around Amy's tarot cards, followed the very next day by the Frontiers DLC in which she gets a brand new tarot-based moveset. Even her base melee attack now has her throwing tarot cards instead of swinging her hammer. Again, I like all of these individual things, but after years of it almost never coming up at all, it's VERY noticeable that Amy's tarot cards are suddenly everywhere.

To be fair, I'm looking at this from the perspective of a superfan who's actively following ALL Sonic media. Casual fans - especially kids - aren't necessarily going to be reading the comics every month, buying the thousandth rerelease of the Genesis games, or playing the ultra-hard new alternate ending DLC for a game that came out last year. Each of these stories is going to be someone's introduction to the idea that Amy can read tarot, and that's probably part of the idea behind this unified push.

But to play devil's advocate, for my fellow superfans, I understand why it feels like a very minor footnote of Amy's character is suddenly becoming the entire focus of her personality. While Amy has always been said to enjoy fortune telling, that wasn't really a character trait in and of itself, but rather an example of her being a typical girl who hopes she'll be able to find true love one day. It's less that Amy can literally predict the future and more like her using a cootie catcher or going "he loves me, he loves me not" while picking the petals off of a flower. So I get not vibing with this stuff, or feeling like it's being pushed very hard out of nowhere.

What I don't agree with are comparisons like "it's like if they made Knuckles' moveset revolve around him liking grapes." Like, I get it. Ian Flynn loves shoehorning in his little winking references for us nerds, and mentions of Amy's tarot cards were previously on the same level as other random bullet points from old Japanese manuals. But a multifaceted hobby like fortune telling that opens up so many narrative and aesthetic possibilities is obviously very different from having a favorite food. It's ALWAYS been a part of her story, not just a random fact, and there's no reason why the fortune telling can't be elevated to something more.

And, hell, even if it wasn't an established character trait, there's nothing inherently wrong with injecting new ideas into a character. One of the best Amy stories in recent years, the Free Comic Book Day special "Amy's New Hobby" written by Gale Galligan, came up with the idea that Amy's secretly been drawing little comics about her and her friends. Is this based on Lore? No. But it's cute, and helps tell the story of a younger Amy who's still coming out of her shell as both a hero and a friend.

Certain fans are also looking at Amy's Frontiers moveset and using it as evidence that once again the Vile American Contributors like Ian are CORRUPTING Sonic Team's perfect vision of Sonic with their misinterpretations. And like. Come on. Ian does not control the gameplay. He's a freelance writer. The tarot stuff is clearly something that Sonic Team likes if they made it the basis of Amy's new moveset - and, you know, if they keep approving comics and animations about Amy's fortune telling. None of this gets made without their blessing, and lord knows how much they can micromanage shit and shoot down ideas over the most minor of details.

Like, yeah, Amy's fortune telling was probably conceived less as a sign that she Knows Magic and more as a pretty mundane hobby for a lovesick young Japanese girl to have. But you're gonna sit there and tell me that using Amy's tarot cards for more than that could only be the result of a cultural misunderstanding? That nobody in Japan uses tarot card theming and aesthetics (or the general idea of magical cards) for the cool factor? Stardust Crusaders? Persona? The Astrologian class in FFXIV? Cardcaptor Sakura?? Hello??? Do you think Capcom put Gambit in Marvel vs. Capcom ironically because they thought using magic to throw cards at people was stupid? There's tons of precedent for this! It's nothing like Knuckles throwing grapes at people, be for real.

Giving Amy a very magical girl-esque moveset also just makes a lot of sense. For decades her hammer attacks have literally made sparkly heart shapes appear around her. Leaning into both that and her tarot cards in her new moveset makes a lot of sense to me.

But, admittedly... I do think it's very odd that her hammer is treated as a secondary element here, rather than having her primarily use her hammer and adding the cards for extra flair. If hitting the attack button made her swing her hammer instead of throwing cards, I'm not sure we'd even be having this discussion right now.

But the tarot-cycle and Amy riding her hammer like a witch's broom are fucking SICK and I will not concede on this point

The thing is, this whole fortune card discourse is but a small piece of a bigger problem. Amy's been a character who needed some work for ages, but there's basically nothing you can do with her without pissing SOMEONE off.

Years of stories where Amy's crush was her primary motivator and Sonic went "Ew, cooties!" have lead many casual fans to believe that being Sonic's obsessive fangirl is Amy's entire personality. At best people might call her Sonic's Minnie Mouse. This isn't just a matter of Amy having haters within the fandom - venture outside of that bubble and you'll realize that this is how MOST video game playing people seem to see her to this day. I don't feel like this is a fair assessment of the character, but this idea didn't come from nowhere. No matter how much good deeply entrenched Sonic fans may see in their old dynamic where Amy perpetually chases Sonic, this is a very real problem that Sonic Team has to contend with for their leading girl. Of course all those games where the way-past-cool protagonist thought Amy was annoyingly clingy and tried to get away from her made people think less of her.

If new stories were to go back to emphasizing Amy's crush on Sonic a little more, they'd probably be taken as confirmation that Amy's just the girl with a crush on Sonic and that this is her entire personality. Conversely, when the crush is played down, you piss off the hardcore SonAmy fans who don't seem to understand that they're Charlie Brown and Sega is Lucy holding the football. You can't win.

And so here we are. In the absence of what was once her defining trait, now reduced to an occasional blush or wink in Sonic's direction, new stories are trying to mine Amy's past for additional material to work with. Having been a thing fans wanted to see for years, right now we're getting a lot of tarot, but we're also getting reminders of her compassionate nature and her desire to go out of her way to help the little guy. This is an ongoing process. I continue to hope that her bubbly, exuberant demeanor can shine more in future stories. Now, I also hope that the tarot stuff gets balanced out a little better with other traits of hers. But I don't want it to go away. I think it's fun.

This course correcting is far from exclusive to Amy. Knuckles is getting stories that remind us that he's a competent fighter, an experienced treasure hunter, and even a self-taught archaeologist after years of him being perceived as either the dumb one or just the guy who stands in front of the Master Emerald all day. And Tails has been getting some stories reminding folks that he's a capable hero in his own right and not just Sonic's timid kid sidekick.

But no supporting character will ever compete with the sheer number of new ideas Sega has tried with Sonic himself. Like Amy, his Frontiers moveset has also given him half a dozen new superpowers that he never had before, from the Cyloop to air-slicing projectile attacks to his own take on Shadow Clone Jutsu and beyond. He's also been a hoverboarder, a swordsman, a time traveler, an Olympic athlete, a racecar driver, cursed with a Flame of Judgment, imbued with alien power, a fucking Werehog with stretchy powers, and on and on and on.

If Sonic can do all that, Amy can try out using a tarot-cycle.

Anyway TL;DR the REAL problem with Amy's current characterization... is where the FUCK is Amy's bestie, Honey the Cat???????

#tkp post

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jjkeverlast · 1 year

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accidental roommates | jjk (m)

✦ pairing dilf!jk x fem!reader

✦ genre/au's dilf!au, roommate!au, roommates to lovers, enemies to lovers, smut, fluff, crack & teeny tiny sentimental angst

✦ summary moving apartments is stressful and difficult enough as it is. all the planning and packing and multiple moments of rearranging furniture; all you crave is peace.

yet it seemed like peace was far within reach as the owner of the apartment had left out one tiny crucial detail from the ad — a ripped tattooed adonis, coupled, with a tiny baby daughter will come as your roommate.

✦ word count 14.7k 🌚

✦ author's note oh my god.... can you believe i actually finished this shit? lmao no me neither. i have to thank my amazing co-writer's for this collab @kooktrash & @jeonjcngkook for being extremely helpful when i've been stuck with some scenes! along with my favorite person and hyung @gimmethatagustd who was there whenever i needed to plan some scenes and for reading out my entire outline. also, big thanks to my beta @pjiminbloomx who took her time in listening me rant about this for over a month. i love you jyad. <3333 and just overall every single one of you who have encouraged me about this. i can't believe it got this long BUT hey! it didn't get above 15k which was my maximum for this fic. enjoy this super cracky and long stupid fic with these two idiots. <3

this fic is a part of illicit desires collab! go read the other stories if you're hungry for more dilf jungkook ;)

For the first time since a week ago, you’re finally able to breathe for once. The sigh you let out is comforting and freeing. The awful ruckus of moving has caused you to roam on the streets with a lack of sleep, eye bags that can be caught from miles away and a groggy voice not daring to disappear from your vocals. A mess really. You know it, your ex-roommate Ash knows it too and even though she and her partner are at fault here, it was bound to happen.

You see, Ash had met Lucca through a mutual friend, the mutual friend being you and you were surprised at how well they complimented each other. The night they met was filled with nervous glances and flushed red cheeks due to the excitement. They both deserved each other. So, when they finally announced their relationship with you, you were more than thrilled. Although, after a year of them dating they had come to the conclusion of moving in together, which was a big step for their relationship and a step back for you, due to you ending back to square one and having to find an apartment yourself.

The image of Ash’s expression when she kindly asked you to move within the next month was imprinted in your mind. She didn’t want to kick you out this way, but it was an important and big step into her relationship with Lucca, and the decision needed to be made regardless. You didn’t really have a say in this. Firstly, the apartment was Ash’s and in the end, it is her decision on whom she wants to share it with.

It took you a week. A whole week to find the perfect place for you. The pictures sold the place nicely, the living room looking spacious and decorated firmly with stable furniture and you being desperate to find anything you called the owner. The conversation went great. He was very quick on letting you get the apartment, sending you a confirmation email the day after you had agreed to the deposit. You were doing it, and it felt great.

Although, your lack of sleep had been caused by the last-minute packing, having to clear out your room as quickly as possible. It was mostly because of Lucca themselves, having to move out of their sister’s loft, so the timing was indeed tight. But hey, everything turned out well even though you look like a Yeti who hasn’t been able to find a place to rest. It’s fine really, now you’ll be able to at least lie down before unpacking everything.

With a trembling hand, you manage to push the code in, the door opens and you’re just about to step in when you look up and find a shirtless man in your apartment. You don’t say anything, the both of you staring each other down for a quick second before you manage to close the door, convincing yourself you’re hallucinating.

It’s a thing, Ash told you countless times whenever you managed to withhold an all-nighter in your shared place. First, there’s being overtired where every ounce of energy left bounces like a little child on a trampoline, then there’s the lack of sleep eating you alive although your eyes fail you to shut, being used to staying open, which creates the last step: hallucinations.

Maybe it’s the lack of sex which made you paint a beautifully sculpted man with tattoos only in a towel in front of you. You’re praising your brain for creating such a lively picture that causes you to grin and shake your head before you decide to re-enter.

He’s there again. Your horny hallucination.

The hallucination takes a turn when he screams into your face. ‘’What the fuck are you doing in my apartment?!’’ It’s then that you snap yourself back to reality, realizing this indeed is a real person and you’ve managed to scare the shit out of them. The only thing you find yourself doing is screaming back, which turns into violent screaming in unison and by now half of the neighborhood is probably writing a complaint to this very apartment.

‘’What the fuck are you doing in my apartment?!’’ You find the courage to finally scream back and the man in front of your eyes squints in discomfort, shaking his head as he swallows your words.

‘’Y-your apartment?’’

You fold your arms, scoffing as your head turns towards the open kitchen. ‘’Yes. Mine.’’

He begins to laugh, his abs tensing along with the rhythm and you hate yourself for growing hot over his upper body.

‘’You’re funny.’’ He points at you and to prove yourself to him, you look for the confirmation email that proves you have the right to own this place.

‘’Here.’’ He steps closer, the scent of his shampoo infiltrating your nostrils and you notice a form of sweet yet musky scent. While you’re too busy trying to ignore the scent, the man in front of you has his full attention on your screen. He smacks his lips, his composure straightening along. ‘’There has to be some sort of mistake.’’

You hum in agreement. How wrong could this possibly go? The only solution that comes to mind like a wave, is to call the owner. You hold a finger up, pausing for whatever word is about to come out from the stranger in front of you while it starts to dial. It quickly gets interrupted, by a voice telling you the number doesn’t exist. You refuse to believe it, so you continue to call three to four times while the man crosses his arms, sighing out loud. It’s at that moment you notice the detailed and colored tattoos covering his arm in a sleeve.

“He’s… he’s not picking up.” The defeat drags itself at your feet. The proof you once had to own this apartment is gone, except the confirmation email but then again there must’ve been some mistake — a big one to say the least.

“Do you honestly believe that?” His tone indicates he’s irritated and the water droplets on his skin have almost dried out — the fact that you notice scares you more than the situation you’re currently met with.

“I mean, clearly, you’ve been scammed.” The words swallow you whole, your composure losing against you and your head drops with your heart. Of course, it was too good to be true, because again since when have you ever been lucky when you’re on your own?

“Fuck.”

It seems as if you’ve lost, but you’re not willing to give up just yet. You spent all of your savings on the deposit and the last thing you’ll do is ask your strict parents for money, which isn’t only super hard but exasperating as well.

‘’Well now that this whole problem is settled, get out.’’ The tone is harsh and you flinch, tears threatening to spill as you slowly walk to the entrance.

‘’Wait—’’ You hold your hands up, your feet freezing down on the tiled floor and the stranger’s expression turns into pure disgust yet confusion. You aren’t really sure, your mind is basically clouded reasons being your lack of sleep. Which currently isn’t helping the situation you’re currently standing in. If only you could snatch it like Margot Robbie snatches bags and watches in ‘Focus’. This reminds you, you should probably watch it again, it was really good and—

‘’Hello?!’’ The sound catches you off guard, your eyes roaming back onto the half-naked stranger whose name still stays unknown.

‘’Just. Please.’’ You’re fucking tired and this was the last thing that needed to be added onto your plate yet you’re still standing, except you’re hopeless and homeless.

‘’Please?! Get. Out.’’

You drop down to your knees, your tears falling freely and you plead.

‘’I have nowhere to go. My old roommate is finally starting a new life with her partner, my parents are fucking strict and are the last I’m calling for help. I’m basically fucking homeless and I just wanted to lay down in my apartment after moving out last minute and sleep.’’ You’re rambling all kinds of nonsense, throwing a whole scene in front of a guy who’s stepped out of the shower. You feel bad but you’re lost. You have nowhere to go.

‘’Seriously, I’m fucked. Help me out, just— just for six months and I’ll be out of your sight.’’ Your voice cracks, every limb that has managed to withhold your posture, collapsing all together into one. You’re done.

A deep sigh catches your attention, your glossy eyes looking up to see a semi-smile resting on the guy’s face. ‘’Six months.’’ He repeats as he traces his fingers on the patterned ink, decorating his arm.

‘’Fine. Just don’t make me regret this. I’m Jungkook by the way.’’ Finally, you discover the name of the pretty stranger.

‘’Thank you. Thank you so much.’’ You’re holding yourself back from hugging him, mostly because of his naked chest and the last thing you need is to feel warm skin on your own. Instead, you introduce yourself and he smiles awkwardly making you reconsider your awful ruckus from before. You basically admitted how fucked your life is at the moment, bringing along the strict parents into the mix and we all know, this won’t end well.

A sudden cry snatches every ounce of your attention, coming from one of the rooms. Has someone been here all this time?

‘’Shit. I think we might’ve woken her up.’’ Her. Great, you’re gonna live with a clingy couple, after having no mercy in showing you were checking him out — multiple times. This is going to be absolute hell.

All while you’re imagining the messy and mostly awkward encounters you’re going to face while living with a couple, you don’t notice Jungkook walking back out accompanied by a certain someone.

‘’A baby?!’’ Great. Not only are you going to live with a couple, but their newborn baby too.

‘’You sound… surprised.’’ He decides to sit down, the baby’s head resting on his bare and tatted shoulder, doe-eyed and mouth agape.

‘’Where’s… where’s your girlfriend?’’ Shit. Are you even listening to yourself? You met this guy not even an hour ago and you’re already invading his private life with intense questions.

‘’Don’t have one. It’s just me and So-ah here.’’ He taps her back, a few burps escaping her as you stay quiet.

The scenery in front of you causes a faint smile to appear on the brim of your lips. If you weren’t determined to own the apartment yourself, you’d let every ounce of you swoon over how careful Jungkook is with his daughter.

Jungkook takes a hold of her, changing positions as she faces him, her eyes as big as his. It’s crazy how alike they look.

Your heart melts into a thick puddle when Jungkook rubs his nose against So-ah’s, a soft giggle sounding like a lullaby escaping her right after.

‘’Oh my god.’’ Jungkook’s mouth drops and before confusion seeps through you he continues. ‘’So-ah you just laughed for the first time.’’ Fuck. You’re so screwed.

‘’She’s adorable.’’ You smile fondly, Jungkook breaking eye contact with his daughter at your comment.

His eyebrows frown, clearing his throat as he shifts in his seat. ‘’Thanks.’’

Okay, there were exactly two things that fumed you over his flat-toned answer. One was that he was still a complete stranger and you’ve always felt somewhat threatened and uncomfortable when people you didn’t know made or said anything that clicked an icky feeling at the pit of your stomach, which quickly turns to irritation. Because here you are being fucking nice and you get this in return? What a fucking asshole. Second, it’s probably an ego thing, thinking he’s hot enough to get away with being quite literally rude. If it weren’t for his sudden act of rudeness towards your very tired Yeti-looking state you might actually grow fond of him, but that is all forgotten now.

You’re getting that fucking apartment.

Working as a kindergarten teacher meant a lot of things. Patience, energy, and consistency. For you to reach there before showing up at work, you’ll need to fuel your body with a smoothie.

The clock hasn’t even turned six when you push the mixer’s button, a loud noise erupts in the quiet apartment. Did you do this on purpose knowing Jungkook isn’t starting work yet? Maybe. Did he notice, is fucking angry and walking up to you at this moment? Very much so.

‘’Seriously? What the fuck?!’’ The shouting from your roommate pleases your early morning state and you force an annoying smile as you greet him with a cheerful good morning.

‘’It’s for work!’’ You push the button for a little longer, his eyes rolling back when So-ah starts crying in the room next to you. The daughter does make you feel an ounce of regret but that’s mostly because you love babies and she’s made a good impression on you already.

Jungkook groans in frustration, his grumpy state returning back to his daughter to soothe her while you hurriedly get to work. Your colleague is probably already there, having a different schedule than you.

Traffic isn’t terrible and you’ve caught onto the lost sleep that vanished during your moving week. As you reach work, Taehyung waves excitedly to you from the entrance, while holding a cup of coffee.

‘’You look awfully happy.’’ Taehyung remarks when you walk past him and inside, re-adjusting a few things before parents begin to arrive with their sunshine of kids.

‘’I am.’’ Your mood definitely has something to do with nailing to piss Jungkook off early in the morning. That’s what he gets for being a complete ass after you’ve embarrassed yourself multiple times and just trying to be kind.

‘’Care to tell me?’’ Taehyung moves his eyebrows, suggesting you got lucky and you quickly shut down the idea, shaking your head no along with you explaining it was an early win for you.

‘’I basically pissed off my roommate this morning. He’s an asshole so he deserved it.’’ You shrug your shoulders, Taehyung following behind you as you both make the place ready, the clock ticking loudly behind you.

‘’Roommate? I thought you had the place all to yourself?’’ Taehyung hadn’t gotten any updates from you since your stressful week, so it made sense for him to be completely lost when you mention Jungkook in the context of your cheerful mood this morning.

‘’I got scammed. But I’m not surprised. I’ve carried bad luck all my life and I blame it on my strict parents.’’ You joke, Taehyung chuckling nervously unsure rather you’re completely kidding or deadly serious. It’s hard to tell.

‘’Scammed, meaning the apartment you thought you had was already occupied?’’ Taehyung has lived in the city all his life, and he has been familiar with the scammers roaming in between others, and cheating the system who carries a blind eye.

‘’Exactly, and here I was thinking shit like that only happens in the movies.’’ You scoff at the ridiculousness of the overall situation. How come you ended here? Not only with a scam, but a buff tatted guy and his baby daughter? Truly fucking wild.

‘’Oh babe, you’d be surprised. So who’s the roommate? An old lady?’’ Taehyung jokes once again, the sounds of chairs clinging against each other roaming in the air, the both of you settling in the common room ready for the children.

‘’I wouldn’t exactly say an old lady…’’ Taehyung’s interest quirks an ounce higher, his movements stopping to a halt, waiting for you to spill.

‘’His name is Jungkook and he has a baby daughter named So-ah.’’ Taehyung’s face drops, eyes wide as his mouth hangs wide because clearly, no old lady is named Jungkook.

‘’If you tell me right now he’s hot, I’m gonna think you’re living out everyone’s fantasy.’’ Taehyung holds up his pointy finger, eyebrow intact with his overall movement and you cringe because you really don’t want to admit Jungkook is hot — even though you ogled his abs for a good 20 minutes the first time you met him.

‘’He’s—’’ You try to form words, your mind flashing images of Jungkook with wet hair, droplets of water covering his abs that tensed whenever he chuckled at your ridiculousness the day you got scammed.

‘’Oh my god… You’re living with a DILF.’’ The term Taehyung uses makes you wheeze, losing composure as you move your body along with the laughter that escapes you.

Taehyung doesn’t get more of a word before the first pair of parents walk in, hand in hand with their child. The day has just begun.

Meanwhile, Jungkook is currently taking care of So-ah. She hasn’t stopped crying since you decided to be annoying and flush down the good morning that Jungkook had anticipated. Maybe he should kick you out because right now his left ear hasn’t stopped ringing while his daughter’s face is almost pure red due to her countless cries.

‘’So-ah, please.’’ Jungkook places her down on his chest, her face rubbing on it, wetting it along, the discomforting sound continuing. Jungkook feels lost and he wants to revenge himself on you because you’re probably dancing at work while he’s here, with dark eye bags and a crying baby under his arm.

Sometimes it makes him wonder if it would be different if So-ah’s mother were still around. Maybe she wouldn’t cry as much. A mother’s touch is important for babies at her age and Jungkook feels guilty. In reality, he just wants So-ah to be okay, to feel understood, and frankly, at the moment understanding her is difficult. He continues to pat her back, rocking her back and forth in his gaming chair, set up by the computer that has an awaiting meeting for him in two hours. He can do this, he’ll just freshen up as soon as she goes back to sleep.

The day spins around faster than possible, the sun already setting behind the building in an orange glow and Taehyung is currently wiping down the mess that was left on the tables since lunch.

‘’So, regarding your dilf, is he single?’’ You’re close to spilling the scene where you asked Jungkook where his partner was only to get a no, which only made you more curious than before. It isn’t likely for you in the span of living to have met a single father. In most cases it’s single mothers, so to say you were surprised was an understatement.

‘’He— Yes, apparently he is.’’ You’re uncertain and Taehyung casually nods at the response, making you reconsider if you’re even allowed to be curious regarding Jungkook’s living situation.

‘’Well, this is the start of a beautiful love story.’’ You stick your tongue out in offense to Taehyung’s joke, while he cracks himself up, his boxy smile on display as well.

‘’You’re the worst.’’ He trails right behind you, as you close down the place and leave it behind for tomorrow.

‘’Right, but if anyone were to ask you’d still point at me for being the best colleague you’ve had.’’ He’s not entirely wrong and you get to prove it to him by remaining silent.

After you and Taehyung part ways, you hurry home in desperation to see if the grumpy expression is still remaining on Jungkook’s face from this morning. To your surprise, it isn’t. You find Jungkook sprawled on the couch, his chest exposed and his baby daughter laying on top of him, both of them breathing in sync.

If Jeon Jungkook didn’t open his mouth from time to time you’d start to like him, because seeing him sleep in complete silence makes him seem… not so bad as you had thought. But then again he was rude even though he certainly helped you out after your scam episode.

You decide to make dinner, leaving the both of them to rest while listening to soothing jazz music. Somehow with time passing by and the smell filtering through the apartment as it cooks, Jungkook stirs awake, So-ah along with him. He manages to push himself upwards, holding onto So-ah and finds you swaying as you cook in the open kitchen.

Memories cloud Jungkook’s mind back when he was still with—

‘’Oh! You’re awake.’’ You had felt a pair of eyes boring at your back, so when you turn to see Jungkook spacing out you make yourself noticeable.

‘’Yeah, smells great by the way.’’ It’s then Jungkook realizes he’s yet to wear a shirt and it’s become an accidental habit of being shirtless in front of you. The last thing he wants is for you to get the wrong signal.

‘’Thank you.’’ You take the compliment lightly, letting it pass by your head so your focus remains on the main goal; having Jungkook willingly move out.

Jungkook is completely oblivious to your plan, although it would make sense if he slowly started to catch on to your smoothie early morning surprise. But for now, you’re hungry and there’s still a good five months left before you leave each other’s sight.

The dinner turns out successful, So-ah doesn’t cry once and both you and Jungkook groan afterward, bloated from overeating. He thanks you before returning back to his room, leaving you to do all the dishes.

Great.

Living with Jungkook had run smoothly, your hopes in gaining the apartment fading the more time went by with him being extremely kind. It hadn’t offended you but you were certain he was rude and didn’t like you. But an early Monday morning, Jungkook proved to you exactly how much that apartment means to you.

You hadn’t gotten a lot of sleep that night, the walls a lot thinner than you had anticipated and So-ah had cried most of the night, not only waking her dad but you as well. Babies are wonderful creatures, but at night it surely paints a different motive than the one you’re being met with during the day.

Blaming Jungkook for your lack of sleep would be rude on your part, so you accept it by making a cup of coffee early morning. It was the next best solution and as you’re sitting on the counter, waiting for the water to boil, Jungkook walks in dressed in black joggers and a white t-shirt.

‘’Morning.’’ You’re holding back from laughing at how alike the both of you look. So-ah really destroyed you for the better. Jungkook joins in on the coffee solution, making his mug ready right next to you in silence.

When the water is ready, you jump down, pouring the warm water after adding a few teaspoons of instant coffee. Jungkook follows you right after, stirring it with his spoon. As you walk towards the refrigerator, Jungkook is quicker than you, pulling the milk out and pouring it into his mug.

‘’Could you pass me the milk?’’ Jungkook grins at your question and it’s then you notice he’s poured the remaining drops, leaving no milk for you. Fucking marvelous.

‘’Better luck next time.’’ He winks at you, slowly walking back to his room as you flick him off without him noticing.

Yeah, you definitely spoke too soon when you even let yourself think Jungkook might be a nice guy. He’s not and he just started a war.

Taehyung notices how different your state is today, the flatlined smile throwing him off guard. Being the good colleague that he is, he makes you sit down as he prepares everything.

‘’I’m not doing this for free, spill.’’ You groan out of tiredness and anger, holding your face that can barely keep up with everything around you.

‘’Fucking… Jungkook.’’ You squint your eyes, already plotting how you’ll manage to rip every part of him apart. Taehyung would lie if he admitted that you in your current state isn’t scaring the shit out of him.

‘’I was beginning to think he was remotely nice, until this morning.’’ Taehyung hums along, uncertain where exactly you’re heading with this conversation. It’s something Taehyung has learned about you in the past years you’ve worked alongside, your conversations always turn in a different direction no matter how precisely you start them.

‘’Taehyung, would you get pissed if someone took the rest of the milk when you’ve already prepared a cup of coffee?’’

‘’He didn’t—’’

Everything makes sense for Taehyung. Jungkook has practically started a war with you because one thing everyone should know when it comes to you is to never mess with your morning coffee. Specifically when you desperately need one.

‘’He surely fucking did.’’ You scoff out of disbelief. ‘’He even laughed when he emptied it.’’ The images flash through your brain once more, a betrayal that has caused a lot of damage to your already ruined morning state due to So-ah.

‘’Go make yourself some coffee, don’t let him get to your head for now. It’s not worth it.’’ Taehyung was right, it would stupid to hold milk accountable for Jungkook and your reasons for despising him. Hopefully, it was a mistake and you’ll return home with a better state of mind, Jungkook leaving you rather at peace.

You follow Taehyung’s instructions, walking inside the semi-small kitchen for staff, and begin making your fuel for the day.

Work turns out easier after you get coffee in your system, Taehyung takes most of the tasks throughout the day to ease down any forms of headaches that might come along due to your lack of sleep. Small moments and gestures like these, remind you how truly lucky you are to have a colleague like Taehyung. He has never made things more difficult, always managing to make everything easy and simple.

As soon as the clock strikes, parents fill up the entrance awaiting their children who are too busy playing outside, enjoying their free time. The sun has already moved down further, creating a beautiful sunset, whose golden rays move along the filled playground that’s messy due to every toy in sight being used throughout the day. The parents were kind enough to teach their kids to always clean up after themselves, leaving the entrance the remaining spot to clean. When you’re about to reach for a broom, Taehyung catches it before you.

‘’Go home. I got this.’’ His voice is stern as if he already knows you’re about to plead to do it yourself.

You let out a sigh, thanking him as many times as you can in the span of you dressing yourself up to go outside. Taehyung brushes you off, a semi-smile resting nicely on his framed face.

The apartment is empty, silent, and dark when you enter. You wonder where Jungkook must’ve gone, the sky from outside already an ounce darker than when you stepped out from work. You’re not too worried, your petty self still being remotely annoyed with the morning incident.

When you walk past the living room, you feel yourself crash down and watching a movie. It’s much needed after today and maybe it’ll slowly lull you to sleep. Since you were little, sleeping at night had always been a difficulty so a distraction in the background could likely push you towards the sleep you’ve been craving.

You settle on watching a crime film that piques your interest on Netflix. You’ve managed to add a bit more lighting inside the apartment, a few lamps surrounding the couch.

The plot starts to reveal itself, leaving you speechless as you bite down on the blanket, eyes fully open, trailing along whenever someone moves on screen. You’re just about to catch a big lead to why the certain murder occurred when Jungkook walks in with So-ah drinking from a bottle.

‘’Oh, hey.’’ You quickly say before averting your attention back on the screen. Jungkook squints his eyes, having trouble seeing the big screen but as soon as he catches on, he tsks.

‘’Wait— Isn’t that the film where the protagonist is actually the killer?’’ The moment Jungkook speaks, a clue leads to having the protagonist on the list of who might’ve done it and now Jeon Jungkook just asked for a ticket to hell.

‘’Are you fucking kidding me?!’’ You exclaim loudly, throwing both hands and arms in the air, frustration seeping through every vein coursing through your body. You’re seeing absolute red.

‘’Oh shit, my bad.’’ You aren’t even glancing towards him, but you can hear the shit eating grin he’s trying to suppress. You close your eyes, taking a few deep breaths to calm yourself down, remembering Taehyung’s words from earlier. It’s not worth it. He’s right, it truly isn’t and you’re being weak by letting small annoying things set you off like a grenade.

You’re not letting him win. Things have only just begun.

Returning the favor with annoying gestures had only turned the next two months into a living hell. The apartment went from walking on a dream to walking on eggshells. It had started with a minor mistake in the early morning with the dreadful lack of sleep and constant bickering. Your dreams of owning the apartment slowly crashing as you’ve been looking for new apartments, wanting to get furthest away from Jeon Jungkook and his annoying behavior.

If it weren’t for Taehyung you would’ve handled the situation differently, but Taehyung has always assured you to stand your ground and not let him get to you. Jungkook has already been kind enough for you to stay, so to make it easier, it’d be best not to mess it up by revenging yourself. But you badly wanted to. Just once. To see Jungkook’s face twist to annoyance in a mere second, while you try your best not to sing happily right after.

Although, the only thing keeping both you and Jungkook on the ground from ripping one's hair out, was So-ah. Her magical baby powers overrule the both of you, and her eyes are wide and full of hope for what’s to come.

When you had first moved in, Jungkook wasn’t exactly fond of you being near his daughter but with time and his suddenly busy schedule, he had you keep an eye out for So-ah who was distracting him too much with her cuteness. So-ah quickly loved your company, your small jokes, and countless attempts in making her giggle. Jungkook couldn’t keep you two away from one another, so he accepted it.

The weekend had finally rolled around and after a week of none other than small bickering and disagreements between you and Jungkook, you were finally at ease in your bedroom. The discussions between you were ridiculous — Taehyung’s words not yours. It could go from a minor detail, like the temperature in the apartment to a full-on debate on whether the film he wants to watch is better than your own choice.

As you’re laying in your bed, you look up at the painted dark blue ceiling, your curtains open, accepting the outside light to shine in. You’ve always loved the natural darkness and how it covers every room differently than if everything is covered, turning to full darkness. You turn constantly, your mind being more awake than you had anticipated. It humors you that you always feel exhausted after speaking with Jungkook, yet here you are alone full of energy.

Tossing and turning continue for what feels like an hour and you decide to give up. Rather than reading a book, you walk out to grab a glass of water, your throat feeling a bit dry. You figure Jungkook isn’t awake at three in the morning, which explains why you don’t put on pants, walking out in nothing but a satin white t-shirt, with black lace underwear.

Even though you don’t like Jungkook, you still show respect to him and his daughter by carefully walking to the kitchen to not make any sounds. The living room has the same light as your bedroom and as you’re about to turn, you bump into Jungkook. His skin feels warm, but you quickly pull away and Jungkook blinks at you with tired eyes.

‘’M’ sorry.’’ His voice is deep, groggy even and you collect the dots that Jeon Jungkook just woke up.

‘’All good.’’

Thankfully, Jungkook is too busy going to the bathroom to notice your sleeping attire that exposes half of your body. You sigh in relief, accidentally catching a glimpse of Jungkook’s ass, being hugged by his boxers as he walks further away from you.

You shake your head, ignoring what your eyes caught onto, focusing solemnly on getting water as planned.

You’re about to drink your last cup when Jungkook walks past you once again. You’re not in the mood to talk to him, so you chug your water wanting to leave the kitchen as quickly as possible. It doesn’t exactly go as planned, the water trickling by the corners of your lips, further down your shirt.

‘’Fuck.’’ You groan, realizing how much you’ve accidentally spilled. The fabric clings onto your breasts and as you’re about to pull on it, you catch Jungkook turning his head quickly from your direction. The action doesn’t throw itself in your head, instead, you become annoyed.

‘’What?’’ Why is he still standing here? Shouldn’t he already be back in his room by now?

‘’J-just grabbing some water.’’ Jungkook mumbles, his voice becoming an ounce lower and somehow it catches your attention that he sounds nervous?

‘’Be my guest.’’ You move further away, trying to cover your lower half who’s exposing too much to your roommate who has managed to piss you off for two months straight with absolutely no reason.

Jungkook keeps his eyes on the sink, although you throw a glance at him and you really wish you hadn’t. His arms are flexing as they hold onto the counter, and the prominent veins and lines of his definite muscles are showcased. You begin to notice each small detail of his tattoos that have managed to flow into one big art piece on his arm.

You’ve been too annoyed with Jungkook to notice the minor details of him. His Adam's apple bops in the rhythm of the gulps he takes, almost inhaling the water quickly. Somehow your body reacts quicker than your mind, shivers coursing through your body the longer you stand and watch Jungkook. The staring gets cut off when Jungkook places the empty cup down on the counter.

He throws a glance your way, your skin already feeling hot by the close space. ‘’Well, goodnight.’’ Jungkook walks past you, your faces inches apart for a split second before he’s gone from your sight.

When you lay back down in your bed, your heart is beating incredibly fast and your body doesn’t stop growing hotter. What is wrong with you? This is Jungkook. As in your roommate, who’s made it his life’s mission in pissing you off and almost made you explode like a grenade for the whole world to see and the neighborhood to hear.

All while you’re wondering why exactly your brain feels fuzzy, Jungkook is freaking out in his room. His dick has managed to betray him. He blames it on his lack of hookups, but deep down he knows it was because of you. His mind had fogged for a minute when he caught a glimpse of what was hiding underneath your t-shirt, but as soon as the water dripped down he didn’t even have to try and guess. He’s angry and frustrated at himself and if it were possible to have a one-on-one fight with his dick, he would’ve. His body had only betrayed him and that made him certain that he had to stay far away from you.

Although, whenever Jungkook closed his eyes he could see your naked thighs, and the black lace seeping through the material of your shirt. He could see the water dripping down your neck, rolling further down your chest and creating a wet patch on your—

This has to stop. Jungkook begins to think of everything that turns him off until his state finally gives in, letting him sleep.

It takes longer for you. Your mind has always loved to play tricks, letting you imagine the what if’s of every situation you’re met with. They’re simple at first, only showcasing what you had seen earlier when your eyes didn’t stop studying every minor detail on Jungkook. But then they turn an ounce wilder. You’re tracing your fingers on the ink, while his arm is holding onto your waist, keeping you close and letting you feel his warm breath against your cheek.

Fuck.

Do you… do you want Jungkook?

Taehyung notices it the moment you step into work, how quiet you are, not daring to meet his eyes when he cheerfully greets you. Something happened and you’re not exactly proud of it.

‘’So, am I gonna have to ask or are you going to tell me what happened?’’ Your eyes pop open, gulping down as you mumble out a weak ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about’ and quickly move on with your tasks for the day.

Taehyung isn't letting that slide so easily and sooner or later he’ll either find out for himself or you’ll tell him out of panic.

It takes Kim Taehyung exactly four hours to know exactly what has been bothering you and just as you’re about to leave the kindergarten, he decides to bring it up.

‘’You want to fuck him.’’ You stop in your tracks.

Okay, now is the time to use your fifth grade theater skills and act as if Taehyung didn’t speak your thoughts out in the open.

‘’Fuck Jungkook? As in Jeon Jungkook, my annoying roommate who’s made my living situation a living hell the last two months? Oh please.’’

‘’Y/N, you know that doesn’t work on me.’’ You sigh loudly, rolling your eyes.

‘’Fine, fine!’’ You throw your hands in the air, giving up and Taehyung just shakes his head over your dramatic antics.

‘’I thought you, ‘hated his guts’.’’ Taehyung quotes you from the past hundred conversations you’ve had regarding your roommate and the new banter you’ve yet shared before you left for work.

‘’I still do! This will fade, do not worry.’’ Not only are you trying to convince Taehyung, but yourself as well.

Taehyung doesn’t argue with you. You have enough on your plate already and he knows you’re very much conscious of the mess you’ve brought upon yourself.

When you leave work and Taehyung, your phone starts to ring in your pocket and you’re thrilled to see Ash’s name displayed.

‘’Hi!’’ Your friend cheerfully greets you and the conversations immediately flows. She tells you how amazing it’s been living with Lucca and how they’re currently making her favorite dish.

‘’That’s great babe.’’ When she’s about to ask you how your new apartment is, Lucca cuts her off, talking on the phone instead.

‘’Y/N, come over! We have your favorite wine.’’ The offer tempts and you agree, taking transportation towards your old apartment. It doesn’t even faze you to text Jungkook that you’ll come home a bit later, too excited to see your friends again after so long.

Jungkook has just finished changing So-ah’s diaper, when he realizes it’s dark outside and you haven’t come home yet. Just as he begins to worry, he scolds himself internally for worrying about you as if he even cares about you in the first place. You’re doing fine without him. Right?

So-ah grabs Jungkook’s attention when she manages to roll over for the first time and Jungkook cheers her on, grabbing her face to give her kisses everywhere, her small arms flapping excitedly.

‘’Wait, you have a roommate?’’ Lucca asks, as they pour a glass of wine in your almost empty glass. You find yourself sighing whenever Jungkook is mentioned and you quickly see the images of his body against the natural darkness in the kitchen.

‘’Yes, two actually.’’

You spend the following thirty minutes explaining your scam situation, Jungkook and his baby daughter now being your roommates for the next six months. You mention your irritation towards Jungkook due to his annoying antics, and the kitchen encounter.

‘’Woah.’’ Ash’s mouth has gone dry from keeping it open for a while, and Lucca doesn’t hesitate to drink up the rest of the wine in their glass.

The situation is indeed complicated and overwhelming and you chug along with Lucca on the wine while Ash starts coughing.

‘’But listen, just because I’ve thought about it doesn’t mean I would.’’ Excuses, that’s all you can bring to the table and Ash rolls her eyes at your ridiculousness.

‘’Are you fucking kidding me? You haven’t had sex for almost a year. Babe, sorry but you’re gonna cave.’’

Your mouth drops in offense and you turn to get Lucca on your side, but they stay quiet which indicates they agree with every word.

‘’S-seriously? You’re gonna pick Ash’s side over mine?’’ You point at your ex-roommate who smirks, knowing she’s won.

‘’Y/N, you need a distraction.’’ Ash speaks first, holding onto both of your hands for comfort because she’s worried, you can see it in her eyes that slightly crinkle when she speaks.

‘’A distraction?’’

‘’Yes, someone who isn’t Jungkook.’’ Lucca winces at the idea, watching Ash explain an idea that’s nothing but awful and stupid.

‘’Um, maybe this isn’t—’’ Lucca tries to butt in, but Ash is stubborn.

‘’Nonsense. Isn’t your friend Han-bin still single?’’

‘’Well, yes but—’’

‘’Perfect. Y/N, you should go on a date with Han-bin. Not only is he a very sweet guy, but he’s an excellent cook.’’ Ash tries her best to sell Han-bin as best as possible for you, and at this point you’re desperate to try anything. Anything to get Jungkook and his beautiful body out of your mind.

‘’Okay, you can give him my number.’’ Lucca is about to throw a fight with Ash, but you’ve already agreed so there’s no point.

‘’You’re not going to regret this babe.’’ Ash convinces you but deep down your gut feeling shifts uncomfortably at the idea.

Two and a half weeks. That’s how long it takes for you and Han-bin to find some time for the date that he’s planning. The pictures frame him nicely and it’s no lie that the guy is attractive, although your mood is dreading a weird feeling that you can’t exactly pinpoint.

As you walk towards the exit, Jungkook notices how nicely dressed you are. Normally you don’t bother adding a formality to your outfits, but this… this is too classy, just not you.

‘’Going somewhere?’’ You turn your head, Jungkook watching you from the couch as So-ah is laying on his legs, holding onto her dad’s pinky.

‘’Actually, yes I am.’’ You answer confidently, holding tightly onto the strap of your bag. The bag whom your mom gifted you for your eighteenth birthday, when in reality you just wished for Jackson Wang merch. The bag is more expensive than your rent, and you feel weird using it today. Somehow you aren’t that comfortable being yourself yet, also the restaurant Han-bin has picked out is way too expensive for you to just wear your casual attire.

‘’But, I’m gonna be late for my date so I’ll see you later yeah?’’ Jungkook tries not to react to the word date, but his jaw clenched as he tries to force out a fake smile.

‘’Good for you.’’ Jungkook expects you to leave right away, but you catch him by surprise, walking towards him and So-ah.

‘’Bye, pretty.’’ You squish her cheeks softly, as she coos excitedly and Jungkook’s heart skips a beat at the love seeping through the room. His daughter watches you with careful eyes as you remove yourself from the frame, walking towards the front door and Jungkook’s heart doesn’t stop pounding, he thinks he might faint.

You’ve only been gone for an hour and Jungkook can’t stop thinking about you. His mind constantly brings back the small kitchen encounter and how both your faces were inches apart for a split second before he continued to walk towards his room.

He needs to make this stop. He’s here at home groaning and frustrated over you, you who’s currently on a date and having a wonderful time.

‘’So, then my roommate proceeded to drink the same water!’’ Han-bin explains jokingly and you’ve lost track of the many gross experiences he’s had with his four roommates. You’ve lost your appetite halfway through, the gross details clouding your mind, but thankfully it’s that and not Jungkook.

Before you excuse yourself to go to the bathroom, Han-bin compliments your hair and you smile at the sincerity of his comment. It makes you realize that Jungkook has never once pointed out something great about you. Wait, why are you even thinking about Jungkook?

There’s only one solution for Jungkook to get you out of his mind. He’s collected the dots and it’s because he hasn’t sex for a year that he’s acting this way. You just managed to set him off. It’s nothing more personal than that.

So, easily he’ll just need to get out there, maybe Jimin would be down to go clubbing tonight, and hopefully Jungkook gets to take someone home. Which explains why he’s now talking to his sister, arranging for her to have So-ah for the weekend. She gladly accepts, her husband shouting nonsense in the background which causes Jungkook to laugh before his sister has to hang up, because her husband is messing up everything in the kitchen.

The date for you might’ve started out a bit weird, but slowly you realize Han-bin is a really nice guy and you enjoy talking to him. The conversation has a good balance, both of you speaking equally about interests, experiences…

‘’Want me to walk you home?’’ Han-bin suggests.

You have a lot on your mind, even though you managed to have a nice evening it doesn’t stop the nonsense that you’ve created for yourself regarding your roommate who you have the hots for.

‘’I’m okay, thank you for tonight Han-bin.’’

It’s a little over midnight when you arrive home. The apartment is dark which is code for bedtime for the whole house. So, you play quietly, tiptoeing to your room and trying your best to not make a sound.

You hear a sudden whine echoing in the apartment, and before you can ask any questions, Jungkook’s name is being moaned loudly and your body freezes in place. You’re stuck. Although, the moans don’t slow down, only increasing — the thin walls doing no favor for you.

Emotions are all over the place. You don’t know if you’re angry, irritated, sad, happy, uncomfortable… you’re just stuck with no words.

As you finally lay down, you squish your third pillow over your head, blocking out the skin slapping sounds and somehow — weirdly — the situation motivates you to get Jeon Jungkook out of your head.

Step one to get Jeon Jungkook out of your head, find a clubbing partner.

‘’Taehyung, shut up you haven’t done anything else than complain about the lack of sex you’ve been experiencing lately.’’ You reason, as you look through your closet for eye-catching clothes that surely will get you laid.

‘’Fuck you, you always know what to say to get me to agree.’’ With a groan Taehyung finally says the magic word, telling you he’ll see you later. This was easier than you had expected.

Step two to get Jeon Jungkook out of your head, find a club loaded with hot people.

Thankfully, Taehyung knows his way around town and the club he’s picked out is perfect. As soon as you both step in, the neon lights catch you off guard along with the hard base and the moving dance floor.

Going out with Taehyung is fun, until he’s shoving his tongue down a guy’s throat. Apparently they met by the bar, and Taehyung being the flirt, persuaded the stranger easily.

Sipping on your straw, you keep your eyes on a lookout for a potential hookup. Most are occupied, either sexting someone or having someone close by. The bartender in front of you notices the wearing frown that covers your beautiful face.

‘’You okay?’’ The unrecognizable voice catches you off guard and when you set eye on the bartender, your mouth tries not to drop.

The bartender is wearing a tight black t-shirt, showcasing his pecs and built shoulders. His hair is long, pulled behind a snapback. He looks at you with a worried expression, holding onto the counter.

‘’I’m okay.’’ You force a smile.

‘’Come on, I can tell something is bothering you. I’m all ears.’’

The offer is kind and just as you’re about to say no, the bartender continues.

‘’Listen, I couldn’t help but notice your friend making out with that guy for the past thirty minutes.’’ You turn around, Taehyung is still going at it and you roll your eyes over your colleague being better than you at getting some.

‘’Yeah, he’s got more luck than myself.’’ You sigh, folding your arms over the counter and the bartender cracks a laugh.

‘’Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll get lucky.’’ He winks and your body grows hot.

‘’I’m giving it an hour, or else I’m leaving.’’ You crack, and the bartender raises his eyebrows.

You watch as the bartender walks to the far side of the bar and comes out front to stand right in front of you. He towers over you and you have to lift your head to look into his eyes, watching as they darken. One of his hands snakes around to the small of your back as he pulls you towards him. Your chest is flushed against his own and now you can really feel the hardness of his pecs and your mouth waters. He places his other hand around to the side of your neck, lowering himself closer to your face. His lips ghost your ear, the skin making the slightest contact as he speaks.

"You don't need an hour."

A shiver rakes through your body at the proposition.

"I don't even know your name," you say with a hint of a giggle laced in your tone.

"The name's Namjoon.’’ You nod, tracing your finger on his broad shoulder while his eyes continue to explore every inch of you.

‘’Y/N.’’

His grip tightens on you, and before you get a chance to speak Namjoon beats you to it.

‘’Wanna get out of here?’’

It takes nothing more than for you to drag Namjoon home with you, leaving Taehyung and his hookup behind.

Namjoon is bold that you’re completely blown away by his confidence. He’s managed to make you wet before even reaching your apartment. His words only build up the intensity of the situation and when you finally reach the front door, you look back, Namjoon biting on his lip as he patiently waits.

When the code is pushed in, you grab Namjoon by the collar of his bomber jacket, until you reach your room.

Namjoon doesn’t waste another minute, grabbing you once again by the waist to connect your lips in a needy and passionate kiss. It’s full of tongue, along with lip bites. You whine against them when the tip of his tongue coats your bottom lip as he mischievously smirks.

Your hands tug on his neck, pulling him as close as you can, all while his hands slip under your shirt and roam on your naked back. His hands are slightly cold, sending a shiver. With enough pulling on each other’s clothes in desperation, Namjoon is the first to pull away trying to catch his breath.

‘’Take off your shirt.’’ You don’t hesitate to obey, tugging on your top in a hurry before it lands on your bedroom floor.

Jungkook had just finished a last minute task at work, realizing he had enough time for a game of Overwatch. He’s focused on aiming, the mouse moving at a speed, along with the clicks on his keyboard. Just as he’s about to reach a win, he hears the front door lock.

He removes his headset, in doubt if he should walk out and greet you, ask you about your night with Taehyung or stay and play stubborn. The decision gets made for him, when he hears an unfamiliar voice coming from your room.

Wait.

Namjoon hovers over you, his hands wandering over your upper body, not missing one inch. His warm breath almost swallows you whole as you slowly spread your legs further beneath him.

He catches the signal quickly, moving more downwards, letting his mouth trail wildly on your naked skin. He nips at it softly, before replacing it with a wet kiss.

As he’s reached further down, Namjoon locks eyes with you, supporting both hands on your waist.

‘’Can I eat you out?’’

When Jungkook hears the first moan from your room, he feels instant irritation. In reality, it’s not anything he can actually get mad about, when not even twenty four hours ago, he was knees deep in a stranger. But something ticks in Jungkook when he hears how someone else is making you moan like that.

‘’Ah— Fuck!’’ Your grip tightens on Namjoon’s long dark hair, his tongue rolling over your clit in circles.

Namjoon is making sure you feel every inch of pleasure, taking his time with his mouth and fingers. You’ve forgotten how great it feels, and Namjoon was definitely the right guy to bring home.

His mouth pushes further against your core, lapping his tongue wherever it can reach and your legs begin to shake under his touch. It’s been a while for you, so your body doesn’t hold you back any further from the reaching orgasm, coming from beneath you.

Jungkook has blocked out the sounds from your room with his headphones. The sounds from Overwatch are helping him hear only the gunshots and effects the game carries, yet the sounds don’t stop him from feeling a tinge of jealousy. He doesn’t want to admit it, too stubborn to do so. But the thought of someone making you come this second, settles itself as an uncomfortable pit in his stomach and he grabs his mouse more aggressively, frustration coursing through his veins.

What are you doing to him?

Time passes quickly, both you and Jungkook distancing each other from one another. You barely throw a glance at one another. For example, yesterday when Jungkook passed by the living room, you were sitting in silence as New Girl rolled in the background. He knows you could hear him passing, but you didn’t even bother to acknowledge him. Jungkook wishes deep down that the action didn’t hurt him, but somehow it did and now he can’t be around you for his own well being.

Which results in one month of barely any contact.

Although, it changes the day Jungkook has to go to a meeting. His boss was okay with him bringing So-ah, as Ji-eun didn’t have time to pick her up for a few hours — and he surely didn’t want to ask you.

So-ah behaves, zero disturbance caused to the meeting and Jungkook lets her hold his pinky while his boss throws in the plan for the upcoming year.

When the meeting ends, Jungkook gets a lot of praise from his boss which flusters him as he leaves the building.

‘’Ready to go home So-ah?’’ She responds with her mouth doing all kinds of noises. She’s slowly growing more, and Jungkook is touched of how beautiful his daughter is becoming with each passing day.

Going home doesn’t go as planned. You see, Jungkook had always worked from home, due to his job consisting of mostly online work. So he barely leaves the apartment except for grocery shopping or to meet Jimin. Which is the reason behind his big mistake; forgetting his keys.

It was a new system. The code for opening doors had been dropped after scam episodes had increased. Last month the whole residency got new locks along with a pair of keys.

Jungkook hates himself, because now there’s only one solution and he really doesn’t want to go there.

When he pulls up by the kindergarten, Jungkook mentally prays the interaction won’t be awkward. Not that it hasn’t been awkward the last month, but this is different. He’s about to enter your workplace for a goddamn key, because his ass rushed out the apartment instead of being smart and double checking that he had everything before leaving in a hurry.

You’re gonna hate him for this. He can already imagine the slight frown you’ll have, trying your best not to scold him harshly.

It’s empty when Jungkook walks in, So-ah sitting comfortably in the infant car seat, which Jungkook holds onto tightly.

‘’Hello?’’ He calls out, the hallway completely deserted. That’s until a man peaks his head out, raising both brows.

‘’Hi, can I help you?’’ He walks towards him, drying his hands in what seems to be a cloth.

‘’Hi, yes. I’m looking for Y/N.’’

The man in front of him drops his mouth before it turns to a boxy grin.

‘’Oh my god. Are you Jungkook?’’ The face Jungkook makes, proves the man’s assumption.

‘’Taehyung? Could you help me with— Jungkook?’’ He turns to see you, your brows in a frown as he suspected.

‘’Oh, you’re Taehyung?’’ Jungkook completely ignores your confused state, too excited to meet the Kim Taehyung that his roommate is very fond of.

‘’An honor.’’ Taehyung bows comically, and Jungkook cracks a laugh from the action. Just as Taehyung is about to crouch down to greet So-ah, you step further, meeting Jungkook eye to eye.

‘’Jungkook? What are you doing here?’’ You ask.

Taehyung ignores your question, greeting So-ah gently as Jungkook explains to you the situation. He tries to make himself sound less stupid than he was in the situation, but you don’t seem to buy it.

You sigh, crossing your arms. ‘’How do you even forget a key?’’ Great, you’re starting a fight.

‘’It just happened, now can I borrow yours so I can get home?’’ Jungkook’s tone is a bit snappy, and you notice, quickly fuming on the inside.

Taehyung notices the tension, sending a glance to So-ah that screams ‘am I seeing this too?’ So-ah starts laughing and Taehyung knows internally that she agrees with him. He loves her already.

‘’Fine, just— Don’t let this happen again.’’ You say sternly, before walking away to grab your keys.

‘’Trust me, it won’t.’’ Jungkook rolls his eyes when your back turns.

You aggressively shove the keys in Jungkook’s hand, Taehyung still having a conversation with So-ah throwing funny glances, but neither you nor Jungkook notice, too busy staring each other down.

‘’Great.’’

‘’Great!’’ Jungkook responds more aggressively, saying a calm goodbye to Taehyung who excitedly waves to So-ah. And then he’s out of there faster than lighting.

‘’Jesus, what crawled up your asses?’’ Taehyung asks, scoffing in disbelief.

‘’Nothing. Now come help me with the outdoor tables.’’

He doesn’t ask any further, seeing you really don’t want to talk about it this moment.

Jungkook has already started to cook when you ring the doorbell. He opens, greeting you with the expression he left you with at work.

You return the same energy, not speaking to him as you remove your coat.

You’re about to walk into your bedroom, to avoid Jungkook when So-ah catches your attention in the living room, rolling around on her own and chewing on a toy. She’s too cute to ignore, so you decide to join her, sitting beside her as you squish her cheeks in a playful manner.

‘’Look at you, you’ve grown so much.’’ You can’t believe you’ve been a witness to So-ah’s growth. She’s already able to grab onto things, rolling around and rocking back and forth which is a sign she’ll be able to crawl soon.

As you continue to play with her, letting her explore and sing as she babbles all kinds of nonsense, Jungkook turns to watch the scene.

You’ve always been careful with So-ah, grasping her as your own and caring a lot for her. He’s noticed how So-ah barely cries anymore, being more calm in your presence. He can get used to this, watching you play with his daughter as he cooks for all three of you. He’s at peace, comfortable with everything in front of him and—

The realization hits Jungkook.

He doesn’t hate you.

You don’t know exactly the moment you realized you didn’t hate Jungkook. It just happened. One day you were in the kitchen and he walked past you, minding his own business and you didn’t have any urge to throw a remark. No, you felt at ease, letting your eyes admire him rather than watch him out of spite.

Panic seeped through you when you looked at the overall situation. You don’t hate Jungkook, you’ve thought about fuc— Shit. What does this mean? Do you… do you like him?

That’s crazy, there’s no way you’re possibly liking Jungkook or even starting too. Which is why you agree to go on yet another date with Han-bin. Last time hadn’t turned out that bad. The company was nice, you felt comfortable and yet something just didn’t feel right. Maybe it was the gross experiences Han-bin wasn’t so afraid to share with you, or maybe… because he isn’t a certain someone.

No.

You’re going on that date.

The moment you leave the apartment, Jungkook is taking his afternoon nap with So-ah so you don’t bother notifying him where you’re going. There’s a certain ache in your heart the closer you are to the location picked out by Han-bin.

Once again, it’s too fancy for your liking but Han-bin makes the environment comfortable with the company of his wild stories. They’re less gross this time and you find yourself laughing at a few of them.

Time flies rather quickly with Han-bin’s company. If this weren’t a date, you’d be more at ease because Han-bin is a kind person. But dating him might be a stretch for yourself, seeing your mind keeps tracing back to your roommate who probably still hates your guts.

‘’Hey, can I be honest with you?’’ Han-bin throws you off guard with his question, but you nod regardless.

‘’I’ve had a great time hanging out with you but,’’ Han-bin looks at you with a genuine and soft smile, ‘’I don’t really think there’s that spark you know?’’

‘’Spark?’’ Sure, you’ve dated a few people in the past but no one threw the word spark in the conversation. You think it’s cliché, like every romantic comedy who makes the spark obvious from the beginning. The spark that messes with the main character and their love interest, them tumbling against it until they get in a fight or have to share the same bed, which results in them sharing a passionate kiss and one of them magically proclaims the love they’ve always had for that person.

That surely doesn’t exist in real life.

‘’You know, the spark where you know that this person is much more to you. Someone who isn’t just a friend.’’ Han-bin says, his tone laced with hopefulness. It’s then you realize that Han-bin is a romantic, a person who believes in having a special someone for the rest of their life.

‘’Yeah. I’m sure you’ll find that Han-bin. You’re a great guy.’’

‘’Wait, you’re not angry?’’ It’s cute how scared he is to offend you.

‘’No, no of course not. I see where you’re coming from.’’ Han-bin’s shoulders loosen at your words, feeling more at ease since he’s decided to throw it in the conversation.

Before you depart your ways, you both come to an agreement of keeping in touch as friends.

Arriving late at the apartment, you move quietly by the entrance. As you’re reaching your bedroom, Jungkook catches you off guard.

‘’Sorry, did I wake you?’’

Jungkook shakes his head, ‘’you’re all good.’’ He doesn’t deny it and you feel a tinge of guilt, seeing the time is past midnight once again.

You’re about to enter your bedroom door with a simple goodnight, when Jungkook catches you off guard with a question.

‘’Hey, where were you?’’ Jungkook is leaning against the wall, his arms crossed which only showcase more of his prominent chest and his sleeve sneaking out of his loose t-shirt.

‘’On a date.’’ You respond coldly, letting go of the handle.

Jungkook hums, mumbling something along the lines of, ‘’I figured.’’ It throws you off, in a not so cute way.

‘’What’s that supposed to mean?’’ It’s almost as if he spoke in a tone for you to hear on purpose, and you’re falling into his trap.

He shrugs lightly. ‘’Nothing.’’ He’s about to turn around, wearing a smug smile when you continue, setting yourself up for whatever he’s trying to do.

‘’Clearly it was something.’’

‘’Not really.’’ His unbothered attitude sets you off like a grenade, and you’ve finally lost your cool with Jeon Jungkook.

‘’You know what? You drive me fucking nuts!’’ You aren’t bothered to care how much you’ve raised your voice.

‘’You’re always pissing me off! For no fucking reason!?’’ Your face feels hot, the anger spilling out of you.

Jungkook scoffs, unfolding his arms and moving closer to you.

‘’I pissed you off because you started this! With your fucking morning smoothie.’’ He isn’t helping with the noise, raising his voice as much as you.

‘’That was one time. Do you need me to quote every time you’ve managed to throw me off?!’’ Your veins are straining against your neck, giving everything you have into your shouting.

‘’Go ahead!’’

‘’You took the rest of the milk. You spoiled the movie I was currently watching. You threw remarks whenever I did the slightest thing, and now? Now you’re commenting on my date!’’

Jungkook rolls his eyes at your comment, not bothering to answer you. Yet you continue, because you’re fueling on the inside.

‘’You have no rights, when you were fucking someone else!’’ You’ve given the signal that you were somehow affected by it, and Jungkook quickly catches it.

‘’You sound jealous.’’

‘’I’m not.’’ You cross your arms, determined to not let him think otherwise.

‘’Just admit it!’’

Your faces are mere inches apart, both panting at a rapid pace. The whole room is heated and you feel yourself sweat underneath your shirt from all the shouting.

‘’Fuck you.’’ It’s barely a whisper.

Neither of you move. Eyes are wandering on each other’s faces and that’s when you notice Jungkook’s gaze dropping down to your lips.

You’re seeing red, although your body feels heated as you move closer, Jungkook’s breath melting into yours.

Jungkook studies your gaze, before he moves closer, his lips about to brush against yours.

Just as you’re about to lean in yourself, So-ah starts crying next door, snapping the both of you out of your trance.

‘’I– I better…’’ Jungkook starts.

‘’Y-yeah, go ahead.’’ You stutter, moving further away and when Jungkook leaves the hallway, you breathe out.

What the actual fuck.

The following days you avoid Jungkook like the plague. You’ve never been more confused and irritated before. And yet, you can’t stop thinking about it. How close his face was, how his lips were about to seek yours until So-ah started to cry.

Decisions need to be made. You can’t continue on like this. You need to talk to Jungkook, without screaming at him and wanting to rip his face off.

As you’re laying under the covers, your thoughts are spiraling around you. You’re contemplating if you should ask him to talk now, because your mind won’t let you rest if you don’t.

Fuck it.

You get up in a hurry, walking in a straight line directly to Jungkook’s room. After a few minutes of just staring Jungkook’s door down, your body gives in, knocking on his door calmly.

When he opens the door, he’s surprised to see you.

‘’Hey.’’

‘’Hi, can we talk? No fighting, just talk.’’ Jungkook nods, grabbing a hoodie by his desk.

Jungkook doesn’t want to wake up So-ah, so you sit outside, with a cup of tea. It was your idea. Somehow tea always managed to calm down your nerves, and if you wanted to withhold your promise to not fight, you needed to drink some tea along the way.

‘’What did you want to talk about?’’ He sounds nervous, and your mind re-directs you back to when the both of you were about to kiss in the heat of the moment.

Instead of bringing that onto the table, you want to ask Jungkook some things that have never left your mind since you moved in.

‘’It’s more a question.’’ You make it clear and Jungkook turns his head, nodding for you to continue.

‘’What happened? Why is it only you and So-ah?’’

Jungkook lets your question sink in. He’s uncertain if he wants to talk about it, or rather with you. It has somehow been easier for him to distance himself, push you away as much as he could, but that isn’t enough.

You’re still here, sitting next to him as you admire the stars while awaiting his answer.

The silence overflows, the wind curving itself as a comfort blanket around you both as you admire the small lights peaking out in the city.

Jungkook has always been scared of your curious gaze, yet now, it makes sense for him to tell you everything, let his shield down and give you everything that’s needed for you to understand him completely.

It’s what is needed for you to stop fighting and stepping on each other for no reason.

‘’Her name was Seul-ki.’’ You turn, surprised he’s answering your question and you stay quiet, letting Jungkook speak.

‘’She was always selfish. I should’ve known better.’’ Jungkook trails his finger against the mug, images of Seul-ki flooding his mind.

He looks up, meeting your eyes and you smile softly at him. The smile brings an unwanted comfort, but it helps Jungkook to go through with answering your question fully,

‘’So-ah was around one month when Seul-ki got a huge opportunity for her career. She didn’t hesitate to take the chance. But with So-ah, it made it difficult for her to go through with it, so she wanted to give So-ah up for adoption and I just—’’ Jungkook takes a deep breath, slightly beginning to tremble.

‘’I couldn’t. I couldn’t let her do it.’’ Jungkook’s hand trembles against the mug, keeping his emotions locked in, even though they’re close to breaking out.

‘’So, she left us.’’

‘’That must’ve been really hard for you.’’ You’re trying your best not to hold him for comfort, knowing he isn’t exactly fond of you. But something aches in you when you see the tremble he’s currently carrying and how his voice has turned broken.

‘’Yeah.’’ He’s in doubt of what to say. But something in him continues, letting his inner thoughts win him over. Every frustration, pain and heartbreaking moments he’s felt since Seul-ki left.

‘’Sometimes I wonder if I have made the right choice. In the beginning So-ah would cry constantly, she’d be distressed and I couldn’t help because I’m not her mother. Sometimes you just need both of your parents and she— she hasn’t…’’

‘’Jungkook.’’ Your warm hand lands on his, catching him off guard.

‘’You’re an amazing dad. So-ah doesn’t need anyone else. You’re all she needs.’’ Your voice is soothing, melting him softly. He believes every word, trusting you much more than he had anticipated and with the hopeful eyes you’re giving him, he knows he’ll be okay. So-ah and him will be okay, without Seul-ki.

‘’Thank you.’’ Jungkook smiles, the first genuine smile he’s given you since you moved in.

You stay in place, letting the silence sink in between you as the cold wind flows.

The starry night is beautiful, alive even. Sparkling and twinkling above you, reminding you of the beauty behind this earth. As you admire the details, Jungkook looks at you, his heart healing the longer he does and he never wants to let go of this moment.

Everything becomes easier. You and Jungkook don’t fight anymore, instead you talk and grow closer as time passes.

You’re still looking for a new apartment, even though the tension has eased down. A plan is a plan.

Whenever you bring up the apartment search into a conversation between Jungkook and you, his demeanor changes quickly and he immediately shuts himself off. Here you were, thinking he’d be happy that you’re withholding your deal, not irritated.

Instead of letting it get to you, you continue to hang out with Ash and Lucca.

“So, Han-bin was a bad idea.” Ash repeats as you’ve told her how the two dates went.

‘’I already called it the moment you recommended that idea. Like it was the best plan you’ve ever had.’’ Lucca intervenes, crossing their arms. Ash rolls her eyes at her partner, too embarrassed that they might’ve been right.

‘’But, Ash was right. Han-bin is a sweet guy.’’ You say to hopefully cheer up your friend who’s about to mop in a corner. ‘’We even decided to stay friends.’’ With that, Ash excitedly cheers, and it’s probably because she’s a firm believer in friends to lovers and that it’s the most realistic trope there is out there, meaning she thinks in two three months you’ll finally have a spark with Hanbin.

‘’How’s the apartment search going?’’ Lucca directs the conversation somewhere else, mostly to cool down Ash who’s probably planning a pinterest wedding board for you and Hanbin in the future.

‘’It’s going, I think I found a place.’’

The supermarket isn’t as crowded as Jungkook anticipated when he came to the conclusion at the last minute that groceries were needed.

So-ah is clutched tightly onto him, due to the baby sling that Jungkook had mastered the older So-ah got. With her head squished under his chin, Jungkook walks freely, collecting the products at a slow pace.

‘’Jungkook?’’ His eyes avert to the sound, catching Taehyung waving at him.

As Taehyung moves closer, Jungkook places down the item to greet him properly.

‘’Hi So-ah.’’ Jungkook turns so Taehyung can get a better look at her, her eyes turning wide when she sees Taehyung.

‘’She likes you.’’ Jungkook notices and Taehyung squishes her cheek carefully.

‘’The feeling is mutual.’’ He cracks a smile. ‘’How’ve you been? Last time I saw you, you and Y/N were about to bite each other’s faces off.’’ The tone indicates he’s joking, although still curious as to how the relationship stands between the two.

‘’It’s… It’s better.’’ It actually is, and Jungkook’s lips curl into a smile with the memory of your conversation.

‘’That’s great to hear. She’s been super stressed with finding an apartment.’’ The information throws Jungkook off guard. Are you that desperate to leave? Right after he opened up to you?

Taehyung quickly catches how Jungkook’s eyes turn downward, his jaw clenching. He’s uncertain if he should point it out, or leave it as it is.

Thankfully, he gets saved by a call.

‘’Hey, sorry my brother’s calling me. I’ll see you around?’’ Jungkook nods, and Taehyung softly says goodbye to So-ah before leaving with his phone by the ear.

The uncomfortable pit never leaves Jungkook’s stomach after his run-in with Taehyung. He knows that there isn’t much time left, and you had made him the promise to leave the moment it hits six months but now? Now Jungkook isn’t so sure if he even wants you to leave.

The last few weeks are spent on apartment hunting. You’re barely home, too busy being to open houses after work and on the weekends. It’s an easy distraction from your repressed feelings towards Jungkook and it’s exactly what you need. Sooner or later you’ll leave your roommates and start over on your own.

Jungkook has an urge to tell you how he feels, how angry he is that you’re leaving but you keep missing each other. Whenever he passes by your room, he’s close to doing it but then you’re in a hurry to reach the next open house.

If he hadn’t felt anything for you, he’d be extremely grateful that you’re doing all of this. You actually kept your promise and made yourself trustworthy.

But, time is ticking and Jungkook is running out of time. He needs to do something, fast.

The weekend rolls around, and Jimin comes to pick up So-ah for the night.

‘’I owe you big time. Thank you.’’ He hands Jimin an overnight bag, with everything he needs to take care of So-ah.

‘’Don’t mess this up Jungkook.’’ He gives a warning and Jungkook’s palms start to sweat.

‘’I won’t.’’ Jimin leaves quickly after, leaving Jungkook alone with his thoughts.

Work runs smoothly for you, Taehyung and you, having fun with the children throughout the day but as soon as the golden sunset comes to view, you’re excited to come home.

Home. Soon that home will turn into a different place and it makes your heart drop by the thought. You’ll miss Jungkook, with his crazy and annoying remarks. You’ll miss So-ah, her galaxy eyes and her curiosity.

But nothing lasts forever.

The apartment feels empty when you walk in. You don’t hear So-ah or Jungkook’s Overwatch that he always forgets to turn off.

When you move to the living room, Jungkook is sitting on the couch, his leg bouncing at a quick pace.

‘’Jungkook?’’ His head snaps up.

‘’Y/N, hi.’’ He gets up, moving closer to you.

‘’Are you okay?’’ He hasn’t stopped rubbing his palm on his neck, a nervous habit you’ve quickly caught onto while living with Jungkook.

‘’I’m fine. I need to say something.’’ His voice is stern and you quickly step back, nodding.

‘’Okay.’’

‘’I don’t want you to leave.’’ Your heart stops at his words.

‘’What? Why?’’

Jungkook steps closer, his breathing uneven as he studies your face. ‘’B-because…’’ The nervous stuttering doesn’t stop and Jungkook closes his eyes for a moment.

‘’Because I–’’

Jungkook doesn’t continue his sentence, pulling you closer by the waist before he lets his lips glide above yours. His lips feel soft, and your breath hitches subtly right as he presses them down to yours.

The kiss is short, Jungkook pulling away just before you have a chance to act upon it yourself.

‘’That’s why.’’ Jungkook doesn’t let his arm fall from your waist, still holding onto you tight.

You don’t respond, instead your hand moves upwards, resting it by his cheek. Jungkook gulps by your action, leaning into your hand for more comfort and you smile softly at him.

‘’I won’t leave.’’ You confirm and Jungkook’s body loosens, melting against yours as he reconnects your lips in yet another kiss.

You clutch yourself to him, as your lips move in sync, giving each other every comfort needed.

Neither of you move away, letting the kiss grow heated. When Jungkook slips his tongue past your lips, you’re almost drowning in his touch. He’s careful, teasing you along the way while giving you a taste of himself. You’re just about to pull him further in when he stops, leaning his forehead against yours.

‘’Do you want to—’’

‘’Stop? No.’’ You hover your lips above his, before you whisper. ‘’Please, don’t stop.’’

You’ve waited too long for this, and now that you finally have Jungkook you don’t ever want this moment to stop.

Jungkook’s demeanor changes completely, his softness somehow disappearing and an ache begins to grow between your legs on what’s to come.

He turns you both around, pushing you down on the sofa. Jungkook continues to kiss you, his hand wandering on your breasts, before it drags further down, grabbing your thigh softly.

You offer to touch him everywhere, starting by his back. Your hands slip through his t-shirt to roam on the naked skin. It feels delicate against your palm the further you drag it upwards to his nape.

Jungkook’s breathing changes due to your touch, his lips moving further down, reaching your neck. His tongue traces patterns, letting you feel the wet sensation while your hold on Jungkook tightens.

It doesn’t exactly click for you that Jungkook is hovering above you, giving you his time with his tongue on your neck. And it only excites you more that it’s finally happening.

‘’Jungkook.’’ You murmur under your breath, bucking your hips forward in hopes of grazing yourself against his bulge.

He groans against your neck at your neediness, giving you a small bite which makes you gasp.

‘’You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting this.’’ He says softly, his words trail gently on your skin, and you smile from the confirmation he just gave you.

When he reaches your waistband, you grab ahold of his cheek.

‘’What are you doing?’’ It’s not that you don’t want to, of course you do. You haven’t thought about anything else for the past three months of living with Jungkook but you’re nervous.

‘’Let me make you feel good. Can I?’’ You gulp, nodding nervously, letting him have his way with you.

Jungkook doesn’t even struggle when he takes off your pants, removing them perfectly and it almost makes you crack up at how ideal it was.

Your grin is exchanged with a frown of pleasure when Jungkook traces his fingers on the fabric of your thong. He’s making you work for it and frankly, you don’t mind.

The pad of his fingers press down on your clit, making your breath hitch by the sensation. You feel everything yet nothing and it makes your body buck into his hand. Jungkook smirks by the sudden action, continuing to tease you with his fingers until you’ll plead.

The touching continues, a few presses once in a while making you hiss. He hasn’t dared to move beneath the fabric and your patience is running on a thin thread.

Without thinking further, you grab ahold of his wrist. You’re done with his teasing. It’s unfair that he’s here, taking his time with you when you’ve both been longing for this exact moment.

‘’Jeon Jungkook.’’ He grins at the use of his full name and you want to throw a fit.

‘’I’ll stop, I promise.’’ He pecks your lips, and considering you trust him, you let go of his wrist.

Some things truly never change.

He keeps his word, removing the fabric instead of teasing you further. The cool air hits your core, making you shudder before Jungkook can continue. His palm keeps itself rested on your thigh, while his tattooed hand comes in contact with your slit.

The first few strokes are slow, collecting some of your arousal and spreading it all over. Jungkook’s mouth is agape, eyes heavy as he watches your exposed heat and his fingers decorating it with slow movements.

‘’Fuck, baby.’’ Jungkook breathes out, stunned to have you like this.

The nickname causes your cheeks to heat up, flustered by such.

No warnings, and Jungkook inserts both fingers slowly, stretching you with ease. The feeling causes you to moan, as you’re too entranced by the pleasure.

There’s something about the way Jungkook works with his fingers that almost sends you into orbit. The way he gently curls them, making them pet on your g-spot whenever he manages to get his fingers all the way inside. The way his thumb traces circles on your clit, increasing the feelings evoking.

When you begin to feel overwhelmed, you grab onto Jungkook’s forearm, pressing down. Jungkook is even more determined to make you come, maintaining the same pace.

You feel the familiar pit in your stomach, forming as time passes. Although, Jungkook has a lot more on his sleeve than just touching you.

Being too focused on the thrill of the situation, you don’t notice Jungkook crouching down. It’s first when he replaces his thumb with his tongue that you’re aware of the what he’s doing. Your legs are shaking beside him, feeling yourself get much closer and Jungkook wants nothing more than to taste you.

To his luck, your body shudders followed by a high pitched moan as you finish. Jungkook pecks your clit, before moving upwards to face you. Your breathing is uneven, your whole body warm and you’re smiling softly at him.

When Jungkook pecks your lips, you take him by surprise, grabbing onto his cock through the material. He groans against your lips, astonished by your bold move. You don’t stop, pumping him while your tongues consume one another.

Jungkook is already hard. He’s been ever since you laid beneath him, spreading your legs out for him. Even though Jungkook is enjoying your touch, he’s impatient.

‘’Stay here.’’ Before you can even question anything, Jungkook runs out directly to his room. He quickly returns, with a condom in hand. When he’s about to lay down, you push both of his shoulders, making him land in an upright position.

You straddle him, wrapping both arms around his neck. ‘’Come on big boy, show me what you got.’’ Maybe you’re saying this because you know Jungkook will absolutely fall into your trap and amaze you.

‘’I’ll show you.’’ His gaze is intense, yet he’s already fiddling with his pants, desperate to get them off. You aren’t exactly helping, grinding down on the material of his pants, which gets him distracted.

‘’Y/N, please.’’ You’re suppressing a smile, commanding either way and lifting your hips to help him get his pants off quicker. You aren’t exactly better yourself, wanting nothing more than for Jungkook to fuck you.

Jungkook is quick on his feet, rolling the condom with ease before gently pressing into you. Your knees sink further down, inviting more of him in and the unfamiliar stretch feels pleasant. When your knees have sunk fully down, you take a moment to adapt.

‘’Shit.’’ Jungkook moans, mind spinning at how nicely you wrap around him.

You start bucking your hips, a hiss leaving your mouth as you ride him tenderly.

‘’Fucking hell,’’ Jungkook curses, his eyes now roaming your body and how smoothly you move above him. He takes the chance of grabbing your ass tightly, making you jerk your hips out of the sudden control Jungkook is regaining.

His eyes avert downwards, watching how your bodies dissolve and how he disappears inside of you.

The movement of your hips slow down, your body still processing your orgasm from earlier which had somewhat made you exhausted.

Jungkook helps you, grabbing onto your hips, leaving you to sit still while he bucks his hips at a much faster pace. Your moans are clogged, too stunned to process the feeling of his cock hitting your g-spot repeatedly.

‘’Fuck—’’ You breathe out, clutching yourself onto Jungkook who isn’t slowing down. He’s surely showing you everything he’s got and you’re already close.

With no warning, you tense above him, your orgasm washing over you, filling your body with warmth. Jungkook follows soon after, giving one last thrust as he moans against your neck.

The both of you stay put, trying to regulate your breathing.

‘’Was that good enough for you?’’ Jungkook asks between pants and you slap him lightly on the shoulder, because he knows it was better than good enough.

‘’Oh my god! Jungkook hurry!’’ You scream excitedly, still holding onto So-ah who’s standing on two feet, ready to take her first step.

‘’Don’t let her walk!’’ Jungkook screams from the bathroom, finishing up his shower after his workout from earlier. You roll your eyes, holding tightly onto So-ah who’s trying to move out of your grasp to walk.

Jungkook runs out quickly not long after, in only a towel because moments like these are rare and there’s no way he’s about to miss out on his daughter walking for the first time.

‘’Okay, come here So-ah.’’ Jungkook kneels, spreading his arms open for his daughter and she screams softly, wobbling towards her dad but managing two steps in before Jungkook has to sweep her in.

You clap excitedly at So-ah having taken her first step and you catch Jungkook’s eyes watering.

‘’So-ah, you did it.’’ Jungkook kisses her on the cheek.

Moments like these are only the beginning for the three of you, and you’re thrilled.

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