#college reader

[fandoms-writings]

Masterpiece

Part 1 | Part 2

Pairing: bartender!bucky x college!reader (age gap of 10-ish years)

Word count: a little over 8K (sorryyyyyyy)

Summary: you’ve been dating Bucky for a few months now, and it’s your final art show before you graduate, and he’s excited to see your final piece.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY MINORS DNI Bucky (he needs his own warning in this one), pet names (sugar, baby, sir, daddy), alcohol and weed consumption, tiny bit of self doubt from Bucky but it doesn’t last long, he’s head over heels guys, smut at the end, like, detailed smut. If you don’t wish to read it, I’ve put a divider where it starts 😌 fingering, oral (f receiving), Bucky talks a lot in bed, unprotected sex (protect yourself irl please)

A/N: this is my first time like really writing smut so please bare with me but i hope you love it 🫶🏼

If you enjoy the story, please consider supporting me on my Ko-fi <3

Series Masterlist || Bucky Masterlist || Main Masterpost

Bucky adjusted the cuff of his sleeve around his wrist, fidgeting with the fabric as he glanced at the clock for the thousandth time in the past hour. 

He was meeting you at the final art show of your school before summer -it was your final show. You were graduating in just a couple weeks and he wanted to be by your side for all of it if you'd let him.

Though he didn't know anything about art - other than the fact that he loved watching you paint. You got this look on your face when you were focused and it was as if you were oblivious to anything else going on around you. The way your brows would just slightly crease in the middle as your eyes locked on to the colors you were working with or the canvas set on the easel. Sometimes the tip of your tongue would prod at your bottom lip or at the inside of your cheek while you decided what little details needed more of your attention. 

There had been countless nights of you working on your final pieces for this exhibit being put together by your professor where Bucky got the opportunity to keep you company. You liked to paint in the bar while he worked, using the paints he'd gotten for you for Christmas. He'd come around to the corner that everyone knew was now yours where he'd make you take a much needed break, usually getting you to listen if he had a small plate of food from Sam. You'd usually take that time to ask him what he thought of what you had so far, even though he wasn't sure how much of a help he actually was. 

Most of your paintings were of his regulars and every single one blew him away. But you never let him see the final piece, so he was excited to see tonight what you'd made. 

After clasping his watch around his wrist, Bucky took one last glance at himself in the mirror to make sure he looked alright. 

He hoped he wasn't over dressed in his suit, you hadn't told him exactly what kind of attire he should show up in, other than he needed to dress nice and that he should wear maroon. He'd had Natalia go with him to pick it out - he hadn't needed a suit in years so he didn't exactly have one ready. She'd helped him pick it out but now that he was looking at himself, it felt like too much. 

He wasn't really sure what you saw in him if he was being honest with himself. He was a little over a decade older than you and it showed. He'd started sporting more gray in his beard than he liked to admit and there were permanent wrinkles in the corners of his eyes. The smile lines and the frown lines both sunk a little deeper into his cheeks. He preferred a night in, reading a new book, over a night out. 

Maybe I should lose the tie? He thought as studied his appearance. 

He reached up to pull the fabric around his neck loose when there was a knock at the door. 

"Bucky!" Ana's voice filtered through the door, "Are you ready? We've gotta go if we're gonna catch the subway in time!" 

Pulling open his front door, he realized maybe he wasn't too overdressed. Ana was in a baby blue floor length, thin strapped dress with a slit up her thigh, though it didn't look too uncomfortable - in fact, it looked incredibly soft - and a pair of strappy heels. Her girlfriend, Val, was in a pair of pin striped pants, a black turtleneck, and a pair of nice white shoes to finish the look. 

"Oh don't you look nice!" Ana claimed after taking in his suit. 

"Really?" He asked, "I feel like it's too much." He looked again in the mirror by the door, tugging at the tie. "Should I forget the tie?" 

She pondered for a moment, looking him up and down, taking in the charcoal black slacks and matching coat, the maroon button up shirt and the black tie around his neck. 

"It depends," She started, "Do you want to look like a businessman? Or do you want to look like a sexy dilf?" 

"I, um, I don't know," He felt his face flush as he stuttered for an answer, "I just don't want to over do it." 

Ana smirked, "Loose the tie, bring the jacket, but don't wear it." 

He nodded before pulling the tie off and shucking the jacket, carrying it over his arm. He grabbed his keys and went to follow them out before Ana's hand popped up in front of his chest. 

"And undo the top button," She declared. "Actually, the top two." 

~

The outside of the building was rather plain in Bucky's opinion. The sunset was reflecting off of the large floor to ceiling windows that were framed in black, and he could see the exhibit all put together on the other side of the glass. 

There were already several people filling the space, but you'd told everyone you'd meet them outside. Bucky watched the crowd pass by on the sidewalk as Ana and Val discussed their plans for tomorrow night. 

He'd never been to something like this. Sure, he'd accompanied you to the art museum, but this was for you. He came to support you specifically and he felt like maybe something was missing now. 

Should I have brought flowers? A gift? He gnawed on the edge of his bottom lip as he looked around. Usually there were vendors out, selling little nick nacks or souvenirs. Really just anything to make a living. And among those was typically a flower cart. But as he looked around, the carts of random items were nowhere to be seen, packed and gone home for the night. 

He let out a disappointed sigh through his nose and turned his attention back to the door right as you walked out. 

His mind stopped working as he saw you, time freezing for him as he took you in. 

You were wearing a beautiful long sleeve dress with a shawl collar, its color split down the middle. The left side was a deep black, the right matching the same maroon as his dress shirt. The waist was cinched in just enough high on your waist to accentuate the curves you already had and the flared hem stopped just below your knees. There were black strappy heels on your feet and your hair was styled perfectly. And to top it off, you were wearing the simple rose gold necklace he'd seen you wear everywhere you went, the jewelry resting on its claimed spot of your collar. 

He didn't take another breath until your eyes landed on him and you gave him that amazing smile of yours, your lips lined in the same deep maroon. You weaved yourself around the people lingering at the front of the building until you stopped just short before him. The heels you were wearing gave you a little bit of height, but he was still taller than you by at least half a head. 

"Hi," You breathed it out as if the sight of him had stolen your breath too.

"Hi," He couldn't stop the corners of his lips from pulling up as he gazed down at you. "You look stunning." 

You didn't fight the grin that took over you as you muttered a 'thanks' and ducked your head. You reached for his arm, setting your hand against it as you looked back up at him, "You don't look too bad yourself." 

Ana clearing her throat had you two whipping your heads to her and Val, "While you do look amazing," She stated with a pointed finger at you, "It's getting chilly out so maybe we can take this love fest inside?" 

Bucky's cheeks flushed and he stifled his laugh as you tried to glare at your roommate while being obviously flustered that you'd walked right past her. You straightened your back and squared your shoulders. 

"Only because you asked so nicely," You bit back. The small venom in your words didn't hold any actual mal intent, and everyone in your group knew that as they laughed. Ana and Val lead the way, holding the door open for you and Bucky.

At the feeling of Bucky's hand resting on the small of your back, you glanced over your shoulder, giving him your small smile again before turning and leading him inside. 

The inside was dark, the walls a dark gray, almost black. Each art piece on display had a warm off-white spotlight shining on it. Bucky expected the space to be louder than it was, just by seeing how many people were here, but he was pleasantly surprised when everyone's conversations were mere murmurs and mumbles as you all passed by, most of them drowned out by the subtle music playing over the speakers.  

You took him on a tour around the gallery, arm in arm and pointing out pieces that were made by your friends. They were all wonderful and amazing pieces, but he really just wanted to see your stuff, but he remained patient while you were stopped by peers and professors from your college along the way, only speaking when you introduced him. This was your night, and he wasn't going to take that away from you by stealing conversations. He also didn't know much about art, only really about how much time and effort went into each piece - thanks to you and Steve - so he wasn't about to pretend he knew what he was talking about. 

Looking ahead to the direction you were leading him before you got stopped again, he could notice one of the paintings he'd watched you paint. You'd been sitting in your chair on the other side of your living room while he was watching a show - well, he was supposed to be watching a show, but he couldn't take his eyes off of you. 

"Bucky?" Your voice caught his attention again, along with a tug on his sleeve, and he looked over to you. You had a worried look on your face, but the girl who'd stopped you just a moment ago was still there. 

"What, sugar?" He asked. 

"If you're bored, you can go on ahead, it's okay," You were trying not to let too much of any emotion into your voice with how quiet you were being. Something about the way you said it made Bucky think he's not the first person you said that to. But who in their right mind would make you feel like you had to say that? Who would be so disinterested in you before him that now you had the instinct to tell him not to wait for you? It was unacceptable. 

"I'm perfectly fine where I am, don't worry about me," he grinned down at you, trying to ease the sudden anxiety coming off of you in waves. You smiled, letting your shoulder relax as you turned back to your friend Zoe, who could only help but smirk at the two of you. 

"Hey," she said, gaining both of your attention, "My roommates and I are having a small party to celebrate today, you should come. Both of you." 

"Oh, I'd love to, but," You turned to Bucky, "Don't you have to work?" 

"I do," He grinned, "But I can always take off early, meet you there. If you want?" 

"Who would close the bar?" 

"Hey, give Sam some credit, he knows how to close the bar on his own. He's a big boy." 

You laughed at that before turning to Zoe, "We'll be there." 

You went your separate ways, linking your arm with Bucky's and leading him down the hall where your artwork was on display. "You sure you want to party with a bunch of youngsters, old man?" You leaned in and asked, earning a laugh from him before he sighed. 

"Oh, I don't know. I may have doomed myself, huh?" 

"Mhm, probably." You hummed with a giggle before turning him to an open room with statues in the middle, your pieces lining the walls on the other side. 

You knew the second he saw it, almost as soon as you walked in, because he took in a sharp breath, eyes locked on the other side of the room. 

"Whoa," He breathed out, hesitating to take another step closer. Your nerves grew with his sudden change of movements and you couldn't help but squeeze his elbow. 

"You like it?" You asked, and he must've sensed your worries through your voice because he whipped his head to you. 

"This is incredible," He said while pointing at it. 

It was a combination of different sized canvases all painted in his bar, placed strategically across the whole wall. Each one contained a different scene, but they were manipulated just enough to where if you stood at the right angle, they created one large picture. All of his regulars, your friends, his friends who worked with him, all there. In the center was him, with a cocktail shaker in his hands and a smile on his face. 

"What was your theme for this?" He asked, finally walking closer to see all of his favorite faces on the wall. 

"I chose community, family, a support system," You explained, "And you have such a strong one, I couldn't help it." 

"You missed someone, though," He said, his voice dropping in disappointment and you couldn't help it when the smile on your lips fell. 

"What? What do you mean?" You looked from him to the wall, searching the faces for who was missing. You were there often enough that you knew everyone who was a regular. You knew. There was no way you missed anyone. 

"You," He looked at you with an exaggerated pout, "You're not in here." 

You couldn't help the coo that you let slip from your lips and you held in a laugh, "Aw, I'm sorry. I'll have to paint one and fit me in somewhere." 

He smiled at that, "I know where you can go." 

"Oh yeah? Where's that?" You asked as he pulled you close with one hand and looking at the painting, pointed to a spot with his other. 

"Right next to me." 

~

"Bucky!" You called out as you padded down the driveway straight for him. You'd exchanged the dress and heels from earlier for a more comfortable outfit, joggers covering your legs and a loose long sleeved shirt keeping you warm. 

He braced himself, steadying his feet and holding out his arms before you crashed into him. Your giggles flooded his ears as he stumbled backward but held on tight to you, keeping you both from toppling to the ground. 

"Hi, sugar," He chuckled into your hair. You smelled like weed and beer and he could only imagine what he'd been missing as you squoze him to death. You nuzzled your nose into his neck, inhaling and getting one more squeeze in before you pulled away. 

"You always smell so good," You had a half pout on your face as you pulled back, "It's not fair." 

He let out a hearty laugh at that, "How's it not fair?" 

"Because I know there are girls out there that see you at the bar and then get a whiff of your cologne and a look at your face and then they want you, but they can't have you, cause you're mine," You rambled and he laughed, doing his best to ignore the way his heart skipped a beat at you calling him yours. 

"I still don't understand how it's not fair to you, but alright." 

"It's not fair because I wanna smell like you all the time," You mumbled before turning and tugging him toward the house. 

"You know all you have to do is ask and that can be arranged, right?" He asked, watching you walk in front of him.You peaked over your shoulder at him with an amused but curious look in your eyes and he smiled. "It's kind of a perk to, ya know, dating me. If you ask, I'll give you anything." 

"Anything, huh?" You cheekily asked as you opened the door to the house, the music spilling out into the garage as you led him inside. 

"Don't make me regret saying that," he chuckled. 

You led him to the kitchen, getting him a drink that you made incredibly strong. To get him caught up is what you claimed it was for. Though by the way your eyes were rimmed red, he'd be right to assume you were more stoned than you were drunk. 

He thought that he'd stand out too much at this party, being a decade older than pretty much everyone there, but all of your college friends were good about including him. Inviting him to play drinking games, roping him into conversations he actually enjoyed, and even offering him what you'd smoked. He'd taken a couple small hits, but he wanted to be able to drive you home later so he kept it light. He'd actually driven for you, and he never really pulled his car out of the garage - it was easier to walk the city. 

He liked being here with you, even if you were on the other side of the room, dancing your heart out with your friends. He got to sit back and watch, reveling in the warmth that spread through his chest - whether it be from the small amount of liquor or from seeing you so happy he wasn't sure - but he'd welcome it regardless. 

He loved seeing you so carefree. Usually, you constantly had your head in your paints and pencils, working on your next piece. And he was so proud of you, don't get him wrong, but he was glad you were letting yourself go, even if it was just for the night. He was sure you'd be right back to it tomorrow - well, maybe in a couple days, he was sure you'd probably have a killer hangover in the morning. 

The music changed and he watched as you stole the blunt from Zoe - though she was too preoccupied to really notice. You waltzed over to him, taking a long drag and then holding it out for him, but he declined and you passed it onto the next person before you placed yourself on his knee, wrapping your arms around his neck. He wrapped his free hand around you back, holding you steady as you nuzzled into his neck again. 

"You look good out there, sugar," He muttered so only you would hear, not that anyone here was in their right mind enough to pay attention to the two of you. 

"Mm, it was a good song," You mumbled, raking your fingers through his hair. He'd wanted to cut it a few weeks ago, but you gave him those puppy eyes of yours, claiming that you liked to play with it and tug on it. And who was he to take that from you? So he let it keep growing, and even though he didn't really enjoy having to actually try to get it to lay right, the feeling of your fingers running through it was more than worth it. 

"You ready to get going? Or did you wanna stay longer?" He asked, shifting so he could press his lips to the side of your face. 

You hummed in thought before you slightly pulled away, just enough to get a look at him. 

"What're we going to do when we get home?" You asked and his heart jumped at your words. He loved when you called it home. You still were across the hall, but you were over so often, your things littering his space, it was basically your home too. He loved it. 

"Whatever you want to do," He whispered against your lips before gently closing the distance for a quick kiss, tasting the weed and alcohol on your tongue. 

"Anything?" You asked, and if the way your fingers tightened on his hair didn't tell him what you wanted, the fiery look in your eyes sure did - the sparks there igniting the fire in his own body. 

"I said anything, didn't I?" He asked with a smirk and you smiled, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. 

"We should get going then," You muttered before placing a heated kiss upon his lips. It only lasted a moment before you jumped up from his lap and he leaned to try to keep your lips on his. "Let me say bye first, kay?"

"Alright, sugar, I'll be here when you're ready." He watched you saunter off to your friends, getting lost in the crowd as he adjusted his suddenly too tight pants. 

"Isn't she a little young for you?" A voice asked to Bucky's left and he turned his head with a scowl on his face. 

"I'm sorry, who are you?" He asked. The man - boy, really - next to him smirked. 

"Name's Flash," He cockily said, his nose tipped up in the air. 

"What's it to you?" Bucky asked, taking the last swig of his beer, and setting down the bottle a little harder than he meant to. 

"Well, shouldn't she be with someone a little more her age?" Flash asked and Bucky huffed a laugh before standing to his full height, watching as Flash's eyes widened once he towered over the boy. 

"Maybe she would be if boys your age knew how to treat her." He turned at the sound of your voice getting close and found you trotting up to him. 

"Ready?" You asked, a large smile on your face. He smiled, leaning down, pulling you into a dizzying kiss. You let out the tiniest whine and he smiled against your lips before backing away. He peaked over his shoulder at Flash whose face was red as a cherry. 

"I'm ready, sugar. Let's go home," He turned back to you, offering his elbow for you to take, reveling in the feeling of your delicate grasp on his skin. 

Regardless of how he handled that situation, he couldn't help but think about his thoughts earlier that day. What did you see in him? 

He glanced at you, walking beside him to his car. You were rambling about something, but in your drug induced state, not much of it made sense to him. He helped you into the passenger seat before making his way around the front to climb in the driver's side. When he got the car started, he noticed you'd gone quiet and you were staring at him, your lids half closed in your relaxed demeanor. 

He chuckled and started the car, "What're you lookin at?" 

"You," You drawled out, reaching over to wrap your hand around his bicep and laying your head there, never looking away. 

"What're you doin that for, huh?" He looked to the road, pulling out of the parking spot and starting the way home. Your fingers trailed across his chest, leaving a trail of sparks in their wake that crawled throughout his entire body. 

"Cause I can, and I like lookin' at you," You lazily slurred, pressing your lips to the skin of his arm. "You're handsome," You muttered into his skin before tilting your head up again, "and sexy." 

"Mm, I'm not too old for you?" He asked, keeping his tone light. He knew you'd already talked about this exact thing, back during christmas, but Flash's comment was seared in his head. 

You sat up, your brows scrunched as your intense gaze burned a hole in the side of his face. 

"What did Flash say to you?" You demanded and he couldn't help the upward movement of his brows. 

"How did you know?" He asked, stopping at the red light and turning to you, the red glow against your skin making you look ethereal in your sudden frustration. 

"Because he's an asshole and can't keep his mouth shut or his opinions to himself." You stated, "What did he say?"

He sighed, looking to the road, watching the light. "He made a comment about how you're too young for me." 

The light turned green and he slowly went through the intersection as you sighed. 

"If you were too old for me, I wouldn't be with you," You stated. He glanced between you and the road, seeing nothing but sincerity in your face and he smiled. 

"Yeah?" He asked, "You aren't scared of being seen with an old man like me?" 

You laughed at that, "You aren't that old!" 

"Oh, c'mon! I've got gray hairs already!" He laughed back, getting more giggles from you in return. 

"I like the gray hairs!" You collected yourself before leaning in, your hand on his leg making him jump and almost swerve the car. Your lips brushed against his ear as your fingers moved along his thigh, getting dangerously close to where he really wanted you earlier. "Plus, you actually know what you're doing when you fuck me." 

He swallowed as he tilted his head to make room for your lips on his neck. You weren't usually this forward, but oh man was he loving it. 

"If you don't stop, I'm gonna have to pull the car over and deal with you in the back seat," He gruffly muttered as you lips sucked on that spot on his neck. 

"Mm," you let go of his neck, "Maybe I want you to." He stopped at the next red light and turned to face you, seeing that spark from earlier back in your eyes and he groaned. 

"You're gonna be the death of me, ya know that?"

You giggled and bit your lip, dragging your teeth in the enticing way that you do and he knew he was done for.

"You did say we could do anything I wanted," You whispered, your hand squeezing his thigh again and he shook his head. 

"I did say that, didn't I?" He laughed at your giggle and when the glow against your skin turned green he took off. 

"How about, if you're good till we get home, I'll do that thing you like," He suggested, noticing how your thighs clenched in your seat and your hand tightened around his leg again. He took a glance at you to see all teasing gone from your features and he knew he had you. 

You silently watched him from your seat, eyes darting over his features to see if he was just toying with you. When he got to the next light and stopped, he turned to you again. 

"Well? You gonna be good, sugar?"

The second he got the door open, Bucky pulled you inside, closing the door and locking it as he pressed you against it, molding your lips together. 

With the promise of doing what you loved, you held yourself together on the way home and you were good, so he was going to keep his end of the deal. 

He threw his keys to the counter, hoping they didn't knock anything down as one of his hands gripped the side of your neck and his other wrapped around your waist. He dragged his teeth along your bottom lip, pulling a whine from your throat as he did so and he couldn't help the groan that shook his chest. 

He let go of your neck, tapping your butt with his hands, telling you to jump. You'd done this dance so many times it was like second nature catching your legs and wrapping them around his waist so he could take you to the bed. You tangled your fingers in his hair, tugging on the strands as he walked you to the bed, gently laying you down. He untangled your legs from around him and tried to pull himself away from your grasp, chuckling at your whines of protest. 

"Hold on, sugar," He muttered against your lips before you finally let him go. He stood, bringing each of your legs up so he could pull off your shoes, throwing them to the corner of the room. He felt you tug on the hem of his shirt and he smirked at you. "C'mon now, you know the rules." 

You put on a fake pout and tugged on it again, "Come back." 

He grinned at you, "How do good girls ask?" You narrowed your eyes at him before quickly sitting up to grab his collar, pulling him back down with you and pressing your lips to his again. 

"Please," You whispered in his mouth and he couldn't help the chuckle he let out, getting a giggle from you in return. 

"You're a brat," he said into your skin as he moved to your neck, dragging his lips across the spot where your neck met your shoulder, another sinful whine filling his ears, driving him mad. 

"You like it though," Came your breathy reply. He sat up, holding the hem of your shirt and looking at your face. You were already gone, lost in the moment and he tugged on the fabric to gain your attention. 

"Can I?" He asked and you rolled your eyes, a lazy smile growing on your swollen lips. 

"You know you don't have to ask, anymore," You claimed as you arched your back to help him take your shirt off. 

"I know, but it's the gentlemanly thing to do," he leaned down, tracing kisses down your sternum, and nipping at the flesh of each of your breasts. He reached behind you, pinching the clasp of your bra to open it, pulling it forward and dragging the straps down your arms before tossing it anywhere else. 

"I don't know why you wear that thing," he muttered, moving from one to the other, his breath leaving a hot trail across your skin. He watched as your skin prickled with goosebumps and he couldn't stop the smile that grew on his face, "It can't be comfortable." 

You giggled when he dragged his scruff across your side, "I'm not explaining it again."

"Fine," he softly bit down on your hip, "keep my girls locked up and away from me, why don't you?" 

"Your girls?" You asked, lifting your head to look at him and whining when he looked up at you through his lashes, refusing to let go of your skin before he was sure there would be a mark there in the morning.

"Yeah, my girls," He declared, reaching up with his left hand to gently squeeze your breast, "They're mine, aren't they?" He reached around your leg with his other hand and grabbed your thigh, giving it a squeeze before he crawled back up to you. 

Your hands came up from the bed and tugged his shirt up, ignoring his question. He sat back, pulling the offending fabric over his head and he went to throw it but remembered earlier and he looked at you before holding it out to you. 

"You like how I smell right?" He asked, and at your shy nod, he set the shirt against your skin, "You keep that, and when it doesn't smell like me anymore, I'll give you a new one. How's that sound?" 

You giggled at him, shaking your head but gently pulling it to hide your face, "Okay." 

"You can't use it to hide from me though," he pulled it from your face, crowding you again and dragging his nose across your cheek, "That's not fair." 

You leaned up, pulling his lips down to yours and tossing the shirt to the side. He rested the weight of his hips on you and groaned when you thrusted up, pressing on him in the best way. 

"You owe me," You whispered against his lips and he chuckled. 

"I know, sugar, I promised, didn't I?" He pulled back, sliding his fingers into the waistband of your joggers, "Have I ever broken a promise to you?" 

You shook your head as you leaned up on your elbows, watching as he leaned down and traced the lines of your legs with his mouth, following the descending pants. Once he threw those god knows where on the floor - he'd find them for you in the morning - he shuffled so he could lay between your legs, pressing an open mouth kiss to your clit through your panties. A groan shook through you as your hips tried to follow him when he pulled back. 

"Don't tease me like that," You pouted with a whine, "I was good for you." 

"I know you were," he said the words into the little amount of fabric still covering you, letting his warm breath fan across, driving a shiver up your spine. "You were so good for me, weren't you?" 

You nodded, biting your lip as you watched him, eyes following his fingers as they slipped between you and the fabric before he pulled it back and let it gently snap back at you. When your narrowed eyes snapped to him, he let out a laugh before finally doing what you wanted. 

Once he had that out of the way, he resettled between your legs, wrapping his hands around your thighs and glanced down, a smile growing on his face before he looked up at you again. 

"All this for me?" He asked, leaning his head closer, but when you didn't respond, he froze, his mouth hovering over you, watching you. "Sugar," he drawled, knowing you weren't too far gone to have forgotten the rules - not yet. 

He started this little rule with you when he found out how shy you could get in bed. You'd never been with someone as vocal as he was, and you'd come up with this rule together that if he asked you something, you had to reply.

Huffing a breath out, you finally responded, your voice barely there, "Yes." 

"Good girl," He smirked before dragging his tongue through your folds, groaning when the taste of you hit his tongue. He watched as your jaw went slack when he got to the top, latched his lips around your bundle of nerves and gave it the tiniest suck. A low groan crawled it's way out of your throat as he refused to look anywhere but at you. 

He only pulled his tongue off you for a moment, to angle himself back down before this time fully attaching himself to you, burying himself in you. He held your thighs, gripping them as they tried to flex around his head. Normally, he'd be perfectly fine with it, having your legs wrapped around his head, but he wanted tonight he wanted to hear you. 

It was like this room became his church, you were his deity, and your moans and cries were the choir, reverberating off the walls and flooding his senses as he recited his prayers between your legs. 

He noticed your arms shaking from holding yourself up and released one of your legs, reaching up to press the palm of his hand against your chest, gently pushing you down. "Relax, sugar, let me take care of you, yeah?" He muttered against your folds, groaning into you when you whined, pressing your hips into him. 

He could stay there forever, with your legs over his shoulders, his tongue playing with your center, the taste and sound and smell of you completely taking him over. Your fingers found their place in his hair once again and tugged on the strands, earning another groan from him as he buried it between your fold, sending the vibrations through you. 

He adjusted his arm over you to lay across your stomach, holding your hips down as his other one released your thigh and moved to join his mouth, his fingers prodding at your entrance before sinking into you with ease. 

The gasp you let out made him dizzy as he slowly pumped his fingers in and out, slowly dragging the pads of his middle and ring fingers along your walls, in search of that spot. 

He knew he found it once you mewled out his name, oh James, and he felt the spongy spot, pressing down on it, your legs clamping around his head. It's not like you didn't call him James in other situations, but there was something about the way you sang it here, in his bed, that made a shiver run through his spine, the ego boost it carried going straight to his head. 

“Right there, sugar?” He smirked against your skin, not giving you a moment to respond before he reattached his mouth to you, pumping his fingers in time with his tongue rolling against your clit, the pads of his two fingers brushing against that spot over and over and over. 

Spurred on by your chants of oh god, right there James, please, please don’t stop, he worked in tandem with the rhythm your hips had chosen. He knew you were close by the way your walls fluttered around his knuckles and the certain way you scratched his arm as it held your hips stiller than you wanted them. 

Without removing his fingers, he pulled his lips off of you, releasing your hips and reaching to catch your hands, holding them both to your stomach as he pulled himself up just enough to be above your chest. You were watching him with glazed over eyes, your lips parted and your chest heaving as he leaned his head down to catch one of your nipples in his mouth, sucking on it before grazing his teeth over it. You whined when he released it, but immediately let out a loud moan when he caught the other one, doing the same thing to it. 

"James," you gasped out, "I'm close." 

"Oh sugar, I know. I can feel your walls fluttering," He said as he leaned up to hover his mouth over yours, "Do you wanna cum on my fingers and my tongue, or do you wanna cum on my cock, hm?" He knew you hated when he made you choose like this, as if your brain was clear enough to make a decision. You did your best to look angry at him, but with the way his fingers were moving in and out of you, you couldn't keep the facade up longer than a moment before you moaned again. 

"C'mon, sugar, tell me," His lips brushed against your lips, "Tell me what you want." 

Your panting breaths were fanning against his lips as you fought off your climax, finally giving him an answer. "I want both," You mewled out. 

"Both?" He asked as he moved back down, "You're greedy tonight, aren't you?" 

He didn't know where it came from, the name that rang in his ears, nor did he expect it to have the effect on him that it did. But when the words please, daddy fell from your lips like a prayer - a prayer only he could answer - his brain short circuited. 

You'd never called him that before - hell, he'd never been called that before but by the way he was now painfully erect and he was having trouble holding himself back - he wanted to see what other names he could pull from you. What else would you call him while so lost in what he was doing to you that you didn't even notice what you'd let slip. 

"Fuck. Say that again," He gruffly demanded, holding himself above your core.

It was the fact that you didn't even hesitate before please daddy, don't stop, fell from your lips that had him devouring you like he was a starving man, replacing his fingers with his tongue. You tried to snap your legs around his head but he wrapped his arms around the backs of your thighs to hold them open. 

It wasn't long before he had you falling apart on his tongue with a shout of his name, drinking down everything you had to offer and helping you ride out your orgasm before he finally let you go. He crawled his way up your body, dragging his lips across your stomach, your ribs, your breasts, leaving a wet trail up until he reached your mouth, crashing his lips to yours. 

Your hands flew up to grab his face, pulling him as close as you could get him. He prodded your lips with his tongue, all but begging for entry. When you granted it to him and tasted yourself on him, you let out a long whine. 

Your hands left his face and reached for his belt, tugging on the leather strap. He chuckled at you, "So impatient," before he stood from the bed and finished pulling his layers off.

Reaching for your legs, he made sure he had a good grip on you before slowly pulling you to the edge of the bed where he rested the underside of his cock against your soaked folds, groaning with his head thrown back as you reached up to drag your nails down the skin of his chest. 

Bringing his head back down, he pulled your legs up, wrapping them around his waist, as he told you to be good and hold them there. Your legs were shaking in protest, but you did as he asked, bringing a smirk to his face as he reached for the side of your neck, stroking your cheek with his thumb before grinding himself down on you. 

He watched your eyes flutter as you fought to keep them open, trying to keep your eyes on him as he stroked himself over you, the head brushing against your clit. 

"Don't tease me," You whined out, your grabbing hands growing more desperate to get more of him touching you. You just wanted to feel his skin on yours, in any way he'd offer it. "Please."

He gave the side of your neck the smallest squeeze, watching as you reveled in the pressure, your eyes almost completely closing. "Please what?" 

He thought you were going to respond with the same name from earlier, he was silently praying for it to tumble from your lips again, but what you said was so much better. 

"Please, sir," You all but cried for him and he couldn't ignore the neediness in your voice, even if he wanted to take a minute to just bask in your attention and the names you called him. 

"I got you, baby," He said, pulling away from you just enough to angle himself at your entrance, holding himself back from slamming into you in one go. He knew how sensitive you could get and wanted to make sure you would be okay before he had his way with you. 

"Oh, sugar," he groaned out, squeezing your neck again, "You're always so warm." His breath faltered when you raised your hips, pushing him further into you. Your legs tightened around his hips, pulling him even deeper and he let go of your neck, moving to feel any of your skin he could reach, squeezing everything he could in his hands as he slowly started pumping in and out.

You sighed, finally having the friction you needed, dropping your hands to where his had stopped on your hips. He collected your hands in his own, bringing them together over your stomach and holding both of them in his left while his right one reached down, this thumb pressing slow circles of your clit and earning a sinful moan from you. 

God, he loved being in you, but he wanted more - needed more. He brought your hands over your head, pinning them to the mattress as he crawled over you, angling your hips up to rest on his thighs, going as deep as he could - and by the sounds that escaped your throat, he could tell he was in the perfect spot for you. 

He rocked into you, finding the rhythm that made you cock-drunk and hitting that little spot for you every time. Your pleas filled his head please, right there, oh god right there, don't stop and he swore he could get off on your voice alone as it sang for him. 

He released your hands, grabbing both of your hips to pull them to meet his thrusts, refusing to take his eyes off of you as you cried out for him, each of his thrust earning a louder and louder cry. He would watch you like this all day if the world let him, it was one of his favorite views. But there was one more that he loved just a little bit more. 

He slowed down, slowly dragging himself through your walls and you whined again, moving to reach for him but his voice stopped you. 

"You wanna ride me, sugar?" He asked, smirking when your eyes flew open with determination. He knew you loved it as much as he did when you rode him - possibly even more if he was being honest. 

You nodded your head, wincing when he pulled out of you to crawl up the bed, resting his back against the pillows in front of the headboard. Holding his hands out for you, he helped keep you steady as you took your place over him, sinking back down on to him, the gasp you let out making him twitch in you. 

"C'mon, baby, I wanna see you cum again," He said, releasing your hands once you were fully seated and moving to hold your hips again. Your hands grasped at his chest, scratching his skin as you began to rock yourself. 

It only took a second for you to find your rhythm, your fingers moving along his skin up to his hair and pulling him up to your neck where he sucked on the skin there. He wrapped one of his arms around your back, holding you to him as the noises you let out made him dizzy with need. 

"Jamie, please," You panted, pulling his head back and he knew what you were asking for. He nodded, leaning back and planting his feet on the mattress before thrusting up, meeting your own movements at the perfect angle. 

Your hands landed on his stomach to hold yourself up as he held your hips, pulling you down on to him. He knew you were close again by the pitch of your moans and moved his thumb to stroke your clit again. 

"C'mon baby, give it to me, let me see it," He urged you on and you shook your head, refusing to stop. 

"You first," You squeaked out and he smirked. 

"I'm right behind you, I promise," He moaned, squeezing your hip when you slightly changed the angle, the pressure low in his belly growing and growing. 

"Let go for me, please sugar, let go," he begged, putting just enough pressure behind his thumb to drive you over the edge. 

You cried out as you fell forward, barely catching yourself and it only took him one, two, three more thrusts with your walls fluttering around him for him to follow you over that edge, the white hot pleasure flooding his system as he wrapped his arms around you and held you to him in a death grip. 

Neither of you moved for a while after, catching your breath as your muscles spasmed before relaxing. When he finally calmed down, he reached his hand up to rest on your head and you nuzzled into his neck. He turned his head as much as he could to place his lips against your temple, whispering promises of a love he never intended on breaking. 

The feeling of your lips against his skin stretching into a smile made him sigh, but it was the returned promise of I love you too, Jamie that stole his breath away. 

The warmth that spread through his chest was a welcome one, and he knew that no matter how many times you told him that, his heart would always have that same reaction. 

And he couldn't wait to feel it again. 

As always, thank you for reading! Comments, reblogs, and likes are always appreciated <3

If you want to be updated when i post a new story, please follow my library blog and turn on notifications @remis-library

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes x you #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x y/n #bartender!bucky #bartender!bucky x reader #bartender au #college au #college reader #bucky x college!reader #bucky smut #bucky fluff #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fiction #bucky fanfiction #mcu fanfiction

[lambiewrites]

Feed me more Task Force 141 x CollegeReader rn or no Christmas for you 💀💀💀

Jk, I’m not evil.

#call of duty #call of duty fandom #call of duty headcanons #call of duty x reader #task force 141 #task force 141 x reader #college reader #college sucks #I’m fixing to graduate tho #ask #request

[justsomerandomfanfic]

Homework Help - Steve Rogers X Female Reader

Title: Homework Help

Steve Rogers X Female Reader

Additional Characters: Tony

WC: 1,338

Warnings: Homework, mentions of WWII, embarrassment, and fluff

You toss your pencil down on your history textbook, running your hands down your tired face as you stare at your computer screen. Your eyes water from the amount of screentime you've had to do today and it's only 3:00 PM. You didn't want to stop now. Your paper was due tomorrow morning and if your grade drops any lower on this project then you don't know if you'd pass or not. You thought college would be easy, but now, they liked to throw homework at you too.

Sighing, you drop your hands, staring down at the textbook before looking back at your Word Document. You had to write how lives drastically changed during the Second World War. It was supposed to be five pages long, but after three hours of research, you were nowhere near finishing it all. Looking out the window in front of you, you watched as the birds flew past and you wondered where the hell they were going. You were normally really good at some parts of history. This should have been a walk in the park for you. Instead, it felt like you were trying to climb Mount Everest.

The mandatory textbook didn't help either. It was nice that it had pictures, but the words didn't seem to make sense. It was confusing most of the time you read it, and you thought maybe there was something wrong with your brain because you couldn't understand what was written in those books. Maybe you just weren't cut out for this kind of stuff.

"I'm never gonna get this done," You groan, sitting up a bit. "I don't understand," You mumble to yourself, looking up at the ceiling. "What to do... What to do..."

And, that's when you had an idea.

Eye wide and mouth open in shock, you jumped out of your seat, "Of course! Why didn't I think of it before!?" You cheer, a huge smile on your face as you run out of your room and towards the tower's elevator.

How could you forget that you lived and worked with World War Two's hero? Freaking Steve Rogers! He lived through the war and fought in it. He could help you write it. He'd always been so nice to you ever since he met you; you knew he'd be able to help you. The only small (big) problem is that you had a huge crush on the guy. You couldn't help it. He was tall, strong, and handsome. His dirty blonde hair and sea-blue eyes didn't help either. God, even his voice was hot. When he spoke, you wanted to melt into a puddle of goo and start to drool over him.

Steve Rogers was the definition of a good guy. He helped save New York and the world hundreds of times. He would help old ladies cross the street, and hold doors open for others, he was an all-around very polite guy. It was no wonder why all the women loved him. And, well, you did too.

"Hopefully he says yes..." You mutter to yourself, leaning against the wall of the elevator, letting the door close behind you. The elevator pings and opens on the tenth floor.

Practically skipping down the hall, you slid on your fuzzy socks towards Steve's bedroom door, quickly knocking. You hear footsteps coming closer and you bite your lip, holding your breath. Steve opens the door, looking at you with a slight smile.

"Hey, Y/N." He smiles.

"Hi, Steve. I have a question for you." You remark, rocking back and forward on the heels of your feet, hands clasped behind you as you stare up at the Captain.

He looks surprised, "Well, come on in."

You follow his lead, walking inside. Steve shut the door behind you before turning to you, crossing his arms, "So what's your question?" He asks you.

"Umm.." You mumble, biting your lip, "Can you help me with my history paper?"

Steve frowns curiously, "What's it about?"

"World War Two." You answer quickly, "It's due in the morning and I haven't even started writing it yet."

He sits down on his bed, the mattress squeaking slightly beneath him, "Why are you doing it so late?"

You sit behind him, your mind immediately noticing the smell of his cologne; sandalwood and musk. It's such a nice scent. "I was procrastinating." You said simply.

Steve chuckles, "That's a good excuse." He teases. "So you need my help because I lived through it and probably know all the answers, right?"

You nod slowly, cheeks red, "Yeah, pretty much."

He smirks, "Well, what's the topic of the paper?"

"Umm... How did people's lives change during the war?" You say, fidgeting in your spot slightly.

Steve pursed his lips and looked forward, eyes narrowing while he thought.

"Well..." He began, "During the war, America was one of the biggest allies of England, and Germany was allied with Russia. Both countries tried to beat each other. During that time, Hitler was trying to take over Europe, and Japan was trying to take over Asia. People lost their homes, family members, friends, and everything they owned. They had to relocate to different places, and many people died in the process."

"Okay, that makes sense. Thank you, Steve." You tell him, standing up from behind him.

"No problem." He grins.

You smiled back at him, "No really! You've saved my grade!" You exclaim excitedly.

"You're welcome, Y/N." He laughs. "Now, do you need anything else?"

"Ummm.." You trail off, rubbing the back of your neck. "Could I... If you want... Interview you for another assignment I have next week? I have to write a paper on someone we admire." You ask sheepishly.

Steve looks at you curiously, face reddening, "Admire? Me?" He asks.

You nod, "Yes, you."

He blinks, his eyes widening, "Are you serious?"

You nod again, "Very."

He chuckles, looking down at you fondly, "I'm someone worthy enough of your admiration. Wow."

You blush, feeling your heart skip a few beats. "I mean..." You stutter out, "You saved the world. You're amazing!"

Steve's smile widens, "I can't argue with that."

"Y/N, please stop complimenting Capcicle. We don't want him to get a big head." Tony's voice spoke over some speakers somewhere, making both of you jump.

Steve sighs, "He really needs to stop doing that."

"Does that mean he heard everything?" You asked softly towards Steve.

Steve opened his mouth to speak of Tony beating him to it. "Yep. I hear and see all." He spoke, matter-a-factly.

"Weirdo." You muttered before turning back to Steve.

"Thank you, Steve. For the help. This will definitely bump my grade up." You told him.

He smiled, "Anytime."

"Yo, Cap. Ask her out!" Tony's voice boomed again, startling the two of you again.

Steve groaned, cheeks red, "God, Tony. Can you not?"

Tony huffed, "Fine, fine. I'll leave you two alone." He spoke, before it went quiet once more.

You looked up at Steve, eyes wide as he scratched the back of his neck, eyes downcast to the floor. You waited until he looked up, meeting his gaze.

"You okay?" You asked, voice soft.

He nodded, smiling softly. "Yeah, I'm good. Uh, Y/N?"

You smiled back, "Yes?"

His smile widened, "Would you like to go get something to eat?" He asked, his cheeks colored light pink.

You giggle a little shyly, "Sure, sounds good." You say, nodding.

Steve smiles happily, "Cool, good... Great! Good. Good. Uh, cool. How about we go after your paper?" He asked, stumbling a bit over his words.

You smiled up at the Super Soldier, how adorable he was acting. "Sounds great." You agree, kissing him on the cheek.

He blushes, grinning at you cutely, "Okay, let's go." He tells you, taking your hand in his own and leading you out of his room and down the hall.

You glance down at your hand in his, internally squealing with joy. You liked holding hands with him. You hoped he would hold it more.

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x female reader #marvel mcu #marvel #mcu #fanfic #x reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x you #college reader #fluff #cute #the avengers #captain america #steven grant rogers

[espinosaurusrexex]

Imagine Steve helping you prepare for your history exam

･ﾟ✫* 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑖 𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ｡✭･ﾟ

“Steeeeeve!“

“Yes?”

“Do you have time?”

“Actually, I was just about to-“

“Great! I need you to help me study for my U.S. History exam.”

“Can you tell me more about…”

And of course, Steve goes and tells you all about whatever you want to hear. Especially about WWII and the great depression 'cause that’s kind of his expertise. And you just listen, and you really want to interrupt him because - let’s face it - you have more questions. But he’s just so enthusiastic about everything.

“They did that?! That’s messed up.”

“Yeah… it is actually”

Of course Steve wouldn’t put it like that, and he knew that a lot of things were not okay back then - still aren’t. But I guess you really help put it into perspective for him again.

You try to repeat everything back to him, he has to correct you from time to time, but that’s just the perfectionist in him.

He’s super proud of you when you finally got it right.

"That's correct. Good job."

Yeah, it doesn't sound that excited but - for Steve - it is!

But then you get to the newer stuff because - of course your professor wants you to know everything from the settlements to today - and Steve gets a little self-conscious because he only read up on the events after WWII

“So the Cold War…”

Steve looks a little startled when you mention something he didn’t live through or was taught in school. But he really wants to help you and, to be honest, his ego kinda makes him sit through it because he wants to be able to help.

“Yeah… don’t worry about it, you were dead when that happened. So the Cold War started…”

He’s still a little baffled by the sly side remarks but he can’t help the small smile creeping onto his face. (cue the gif)

You make him get you ice cream after and while you are sitting in the park, Steve sheepishly asks you if you could actually tell him a little more about post WWII times.

He knows about the things that happened, of course he does. The first thing he did when he got his own apartment was surge though the library and read up on everything that happened, but it was a lot to comprehend. And on top of that, the past three decades had been changing so rapidly, it seemed like more than the rest of America's history all together.

So he’s just all the happier when you smile and nod excitedly because finally you can teach him something. (when actually you’ve been doing that the whole time, you just don’t know)

So you sit on the park bench and tell him everything you remember from your notes, and it actually helps you quite a lot to really learn the stuff by heart.

You and Steve are already pretty close, but that day just felt like a whole new level of bonding.

A couple days later, you wake up early because it’s ✨exam day✨ and you find Steve in the kitchen with a breakfast ready for you because ‘It’s the most important meal of the day’ and ‘you need to be fueled for your test’

It’s honestly so sweet, and he even packed you a little lunch bag to take to university (Steeeeve stop it 😍😩)

After the exam he asks you how it went and when you tell him that it was great he has that proud captain face on and it’s honestly so cute!

He takes you out for more ice cream, but prepare yourself for when you show him that A because then he’ll probably be building you a castle out of gelato.

taglist: @fangirl-swagg (hello! Please tell me if you would not like to be tagged in shorts like these then I’ll only do it for the fics, yeah?)

#steve rogers imagine #steve rogers fluff #captain america #steve rogers headcanon #captain america imagine #steve rogers fic #marvel au #college reader #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers au #headcanon #m Shorts

[a-supernatural-writer]

Blood Oranges Pt.7

Summary: The holiday break is on the horizon, finals are weeks away, and you and your older brother are attending college in Vermont, ready to be done with school and be back home with your parents. Though, while fiddling around with your parents old camcorder, you come across some old tapes that look a little all too familiar to you and your brother.

Word Count: 2,774

Warnings: language

Poly Lost Boys x FemReader | Male OC x Male OC

Notes: Learning more about Jason and his part to play. Surprises around every corner and there’s still so much more to cover before movie plot. So get ready. Also if you want to be added to a tag list for this series, let me know!

Previous Part Next Part

You pulled the curtain to the dressing room, now changed into some of the new clothing that you bought. A new pair of dark gray mom jeans with your black boots and a faded orange cotton spaghetti strap tank top with white trimming. You pulled on one of your new jackets as well; it was a long navy blue jacket that reached your knees with a few presown patches that you liked on it.

Freddie stepped out of the one next to you, dressed in his new clothing as well. A faded red zip-up hoodie with tears, rips and worn out band patches, he wore it on top of his baggy black tank top. He put on a new pair of ripped denim jeans as well and tradded out his boots for a pair of navy blue high top converse.

The both of you smiled at each other, happy with your new clothing. You lifted up your hand and formed a fist, "Feeling good, Fred?" Now the two of you looked like you could relatively blend in with the locals.

He chuckled and bumped his fist with yours, "Feeling good." He repeated your words.

"Looking good too." Jason comments, sitting on the couches that were set up in front of the dressing rooms.

You smiled as Freddie became flustered at the complement. Jason smiled at Freddie as well, finding it cute that he got flustered so easily.

You shoved your original clothes in one of your bags, "Okay, so, wanna explain how you're here?"

Freddie grabbed his own bags, "Or how you even found us for that matter?"

Jason sighed, grabbing his stuff and the three of you made your way out of the store, merging with the crowd, "It's hard to explain, nor do I think it's good to talk about it in a sea of people."

"We could head to the car." You glanced over at the ocean, the sun only maybe an hour away from fully setting. "Talk about it there."

The three of you sat in the car with your belongings in the trunk, with very little to no people in the area, which gave you all enough privacy to talk freely. You sat up in the driver's seat while Freddie sat in the passenger seat next you and Jason in the back.

You were also patting yourself on the back for grabbing blood oranges with you, cause each of you were eating one.

"So, let me get this all straight. You're a dhampir too?" Freddie asked in disbelief as you stared at him, flabbergasted.

Jason winced and nodded, "My parents made me eat blood oranges, just like you guys, to curb the craving of blood. I always knew, they were always open about it with me. I knew that we were from a different dimension once I was old enough to understand the concept of it.

Jason paused, taking a slice of the citrus fruit into his mouth, "But there was so much more that I never fully understood. I wanted them to tell me everything."

Freddie swallowed his slice, "Did they?"

Jason pursed his lips, "Not really, they just always put it off and just said it wasn't time yet. I didn't even know about you guys being dhampirs until yesterday. I thought you were just humans. But your parents called me."

"What?" You questioned, glancing over at Freddie in utter confusion.

"Yeah, I mean, I knew I could time travel and dimension hop, I just never did it before. But your parents called me and told me to find you guys. That it was important and like, dire that went back in time with you guys. They just said that it was time." Jason explained.

Freddie shook his head, "But how did they know we would be here? How did they even know about…" Freddie trailed off and clenched his fist, "They knew about you because both of our parents are from here and were probably friends."

Jason nodded, "Yeah, apparently."

Silence settled over all of you but one question still tugged at your mind, "But how did you find us? I mean, doesn't it have to do with certain circumstances? Watching a tape or something mixed with strong emotions?"

Jason sighed, "That's one way. Emotions are a part of it, but it's mostly a connection, a strong one. I got here because… of my connection with Freddie."

Freddie stared at the brunette while you furrowed your brow. And then it hit you like a bag of bricks. Your jaw dropped a little, "Your Freddie's mate."

Freddie's eyes went wide, looking back and forth between you and Jason.

"That's how you got here. Pre fucking determined destiny brought you here." You pieced things together, "Not to mention the fact that you mated with him already."

Jason stuttered, "H-how did you know?"

You stared blankly at him, "Cause my mates, the lost boys," Jason tilted his head at that. You nodded, "Yeah, I know, crazy, anyways. They said that someone already mated with my brother. You scent marked him."

Freddie suddenly stepped out of the car and you and Jason instantly followed. "Freddie, look, I-" Jason started but Freddie put a hand up to stop him.

"You…" Freddie shook his head, "How did you not know what we were if you marked me? Couldn't you, I don't know, smell that we were different?!"

"I just thought it was a mate thing?! I did it shortly after I found out what I was and I didn't know what I was doing!" Jason exclaimed.

You watched on, letting the two talk it out. Plus, you didn't really think it was smart to interrupt a conversation this important.

Jason took a deep breath, "Everything changed. I could smell things, hear things, do things that I couldn't even understand. And you… I…" Jason trailed off, not really knowing what to say.

Freddie ran his fingers through his hair and then rubbed his face, "You promise that you didn't know."

"Promise. Freddie, I never knew about you or your sister until your parents called me."

Licking your lips, you decided to speak up, "I'm gonna let you two talk for a bit. I'll hang out on the boardwalk until you guys talk things over."

"Wait, Y/n, I can't exactly whip out my phone and call you." Freddie exclaimed as you started walking away.

You waved your hand, "Just start heading in when the boys get here, they'll find me somehow." You had no doubt that the second they found out you and Freddie were gone, the number one place they would look is the Boardwalk. It was their home away from home.

Freddie swung his feet back and forth as he and Jason sat on the front of the car. Ever since you left, which was only about twenty minutes ago, they had been sitting in silence. Freddie was still coming to terms that pretty much the guy he was totally into was mated to him.

It was only the second day and even more information was dumped on the both of you. He should've been estatice by this news, he was happy, yeah, but it still was tough to process.

"When did you, um, mark me?" Freddie asked and made Jason jump a little when he broke the silence.

Jason played with his fingers, not looking at Freddie, "Start of last semester. It was only a little over a month when I found out what I was. We had that study session at my apartment; I was studying the philosophy of death and dying."

Freddie snorted, remembering, "And I had honors calculus."

Jason chuckled, "Yeah, I will still never wrap my head around how smart you are."

Freddie scoffed, shoving Jason lightly with his shoulder, "Don't sell yourself short. Philosophy is hard. I could never do it."

Jason smiled and cleared his throat, "Anyways, you stayed over that night. You fell asleep while we were sitting on the floor and… I smelt it. It was strong. I mean, it was strong the entire day and I didn't know what it was. All I knew is something inside me got possessive."

Freddie nodded, "Oh." He said softly, listening to Jason.

"I draped one of my hoodies over you and let you nap for a bit. I left my room because I knew if I stayed in there longer, whatever I wanted, I knew I wouldn't be able to control it." Jason then chuckled, "Didn't help much when you woke up and joined me out in the living room, fully wearing it."

Freddie blushed a little, "Yeah, I remember that."

"You know, um…" Jason started, clearing his throat, his face feeling warm, "Before this whole dhampir and mate thing happened, I have… I liked you before that happened."

Freddie's head whipped so hard, "What?"

Jason sighed, looking at Freddie, "I like you, a lot, Freddie. Before all this happened and even afterwards. It wasn't a mate thing at first, I just really, really like you."

Freddie gulped and licked his lips, "Oh, well. That's good."

"Yeah?" Jason said hopefully.

Freddie nodded, "Yeah, I… I like you too. A lot and I have for a long time."

Jason smiled and Freddie smiled as well, a warmth filling their chests. Freddie placed a hand on the car in between them and Jason did the same. Their fingers curled around each other and soon they were holding hands.

Freddie chuckled, suddenly very shy at the action. Jason just smiled at Freddie and nodded, "Cool."

"Very cool."

Jason cleared his throat a little before speaking, "There's also one more thing that I gotta tell you. It's about my parents."

Freddie nodded, listening intently to Jason. His eyes widened in disbelief as Jason revealed a secret that he'd been keeping for a long time.

"You've gotta be shitting me."

You sipped at your milkshake, people watching while sitting criss crossed on top of one of the wooden picnic tables they had placed sporadically throughout the boardwalk.

The sun had fully set and at this point you were just waiting for the boys to show up or even your brother and Jason to finish whatever conversation they were having.

You raised a brow at the people who gave you weird looks as they passed by. You never got weird looks when you did stuff like this with your friends on campus. No one really gave a shit and no one really cared for that matter.

"Looking good, babe." With a wicked grin, Marko came up from behind you and took a seat next to you on the table.

"I think smoking hot is more like it." Paul said, biting his lip.

You licked your lips as the rest of the boys took a seat at the table with you, grins on their own faces. You smiled and shrugged at the compliment, "Thanks. Need to do some shopping. Though I'll probably need to do it again in a week or so."

"You can take some of our stuff." David offered. Though you had a feeling there was more meaning to the offer than was being led on.

You shook your head, grateful for the offer but you didn't want them to give up some of their clothing just for you, "You really don't have to do that."

Dwayne placed a hand on your leg, "We want to." You gulped at the intense gaze Dwayne was giving you. His eyes hooded, "Let us." A shiver went down your spine and you didn't know if it was still an offer at this point or a command.

You could feel your face heating up, "Okay." You said quietly, taking another sip of your milkshake.

David suddenly narrowed his eyes and leaned forward, taking a sniff at you. You raised your brow at the action, "What?"

David growled a little, "Who were you around?" Something inside you knew his growl was protective, but he still didn't like that he could smell a new scent that wasn't your brothers.

"Oh! Um, we sort of ran into someone we know… from our year, well dimension? Whatever the fuck you wanna call it, he's a friend from our college." You explained and held back a laugh seeing their eyes widen.

"How did he get here?" Marko questioned.

You smiled a little, "Well, he's a dhampir and also my brother's mate so… pre destiny and all that good stuff is how he's here and apparently there is a reason why we're here. And it's not just because I'm mated to you guys, I think there's much more to it since our parents knew that all of this," You gestured to your environment around you, "Was going to happen."

David furrowed his brow, taking the cigarette behind his ear, "So, this was all planned?"

You shook your head as he lit his cigarette, "Well, yes but no. Freddie and I coming here wasn't planned, it just happened. Our parents sending Jason, Freddie's mate, to help us here was planned."

"Help you with what? You're our mate so that should be it, right?" Paul asked, confused. It suddenly dawned on his three fellow vampires that they never told him about what Freddie showed them.

You opened your mouth, but then you paused. You thought back to when you and Freddie were still in your dorm room before you ended up in Santa Carla.

"To help you…" You trailed off, "Every single time I watch your movie, I've always hated the ending. Mostly everyone who's watched it does. Yes, I'm your mate and I'm gonna change your guys' ending."

Paul tilted his head at you, completely lost, "Wait, how does the movie end?"

Marko winced when Paul asked the question, "We sort of die, dude. Like for real."

Paul stared at Marko in silence, his eyes widening and shocked to his very core. He dies? Like for real dies at the end of whatever movie that came from your dimension. He frowned a little, his mood suddenly dampening, "This blows. Totally blows."

You frowned a little. You reached over with your free hand grasped onto one of his, giving it a squeeze. His head turned to you as you gave him a comforting smile, "But I'm gonna make sure that it doesn't happen."

You turned to look at the rest of them and they stared back at you, "None of you are dying. Me, Freddie and Jason are gonna make sure of it."

"Someone mention us?"

All of you turned your heads behind you to see Freddie holding hands with Jason, both of them were smiling.

Happiness bubbled up inside you when you saw their hands together, "No way!" You quickly set your milkshake aside, hopping off the table and running up to your brother to smother him in a hug, "You two did not!"

Freddie chuckled as he swung you around, "Yeah, we sort of did."

The boys watched on, a smile appearing on all of their faces to see you so happy. They even chuckled when you lightly punched your brother in the arm and 'told him so' that Jason liked him back.

Speaking of the boy, their gaze fell on him and they could smell that he was just like you and your brother. He had a smile on his face and a blush dusting his tanned cheeks. "Took long enough." He commented and you just laughed.

Freddie rolled his eyes playfully, "Yeah, yeah. I'm just happy we did it." Freddie shrugged bashfully.

Jason turned his head and noticed the boys staring at him. He cleared his throat, suddenly feeling very small under their gaze, "Hey."

You turned as well and smiled, "Jason, the infamous lost boys. Boys, this is Jason. Our friend from college and well, Freddie's boyfriend I'm guessing?" You chuckled as both boys nodded a little shy.

You walked back over to the boys, grabbing your shake and resting an elbow on Dwayne's shoulder. Dwayne smirked at how close you were to him and snaked an arm around your waist. You said nothing about it though, and you'd be lying if you said you didn't like it.

Jason chuckled, "Anyways. I don't think the Boardwalk is the safest place to be talking about this. Anyone could be listening."

David hummed, "We'll talk about it back at the cave later, for now, we need to eat."

You glanced down at David as he blew smoke from his cigarette, "Why do I get the feeling that what you need isn't exactly human food? More like human is food."

David smirked and so did the others, "Correct, kitten."

#the lost boys #the lost boys 1987 #oc #original character #the lost boys oc #original characters #poly lost boys x reader #poly lost boys #poly lost boys x female reader #the lost boys x female reader #x female reader #reader #college reader #dhampirs #male oc x male oc #blood oranges #paul x reader #david x reader #dwayne x reader #marko x reader

[mysteriesmuse]

Houseboat Holiday!🌊⛴️☀️!

There was nothing more exhilarating than a long awaited summer vacation with your childhood best friends. The annual houseboat holiday with your three families. The Bakugous, Midoriyas, and L/Ns. This tradition started a long time ago when your parents were all young adults fresh out of college. In fact, the tradition started out as a lifestyle where your mothers had all decided to split the cost of a houseboat rather than dealing and living in the inflated Japanese apartments at the time. Plus, life on the water had less crime and was safer for a bunch of single women. And now it’s become a tradition for your expanding families.

And Now here you were fresh out of the college semester for the summer. A young single and educated woman just like your mothers were, and here you were. The only representative member of your family coming on the trip this year. Your parents being called for some emergency quirk training for your nephew who just inherited a quirk much like your fathers.

A 2-year old with some form of x-ray vision was definitely cause for missing a vacation. Your poor brother and sister-in-law kept you regularly posted on the terrible twos. So when your family shared the news that only you could make it everyone understood.

“Oh! Inko, darling, get up here it’s Y/N!” A familiar shout greeted you as you saw familiar figures moving around on the family houseboat. A blonde woman made a mad dash off the boat and down the wooden planks - thats when you dropped all your luggage.

You flew into her embrace, “Auntie Mitski!” “Look at you! Your Mamas little girl!” She stood back and held your arms, peering around at you every which way, “let me get a good luck at you!” With a giggle you did the routine and pushed your sunglasses up, flashing your big sparkling eyes and thick fluttering lashes.

Mitsuki let out her rackous laughter and slung and arm around your shoulders steering you to the boat, “Could still make my boy hand over his desert like when you were kids with those eyes.” you rolled your eyes gently nudging her in the ribs.

“Oh - right . . .” your aunt turned to the boat and shouted for her husband, you still in tow, it was same old, same old. You passed him on the boat as he went to grab your luggage’s mouthing your routine ‘thank you’ as he went to grab your bags and Mitsuki talked your ear off. “ - like I said in my text, the boys are probably gonna be here late tonight -“

“I just got off the phone with Izuku and he said that they were well on their way to the city by now, so they might be earlier . . .” you gasped, your auntie slipping her arm off your shoulder so you could embrace your other aunt who just came around the corner. “oh my gosh Inko you look incredible!” “She’s been working out son the weekends with Izuku. Such a dutiful son. Now she’s got that summer body back!” “oh it’s not been that big a deal,” she blubbered, “I mean look at our girl’s baby girl. You’re so gorgeous.” you pulled back as she dabbed her eyes with tissues that you know Mitsuki must have supplied to her behind your back. “But honestly, Aunt Inko you look great. Im super proud of you.” she sniffled as Mitsuki slug an arm around the both of you, “hey and you know she’s been back in the dating scene and you’re never gonna guess who she’s getting lucky with y/n.” “Mitsy!” Inko turned bright red. You gasped, “uh Aunty Inky excuse me? I haven’t heard anything about this from mom. Who is it?!” “oh I’ll let her tell the whole story herself later tonight,” Mitsuki ensured, chuckling with her best friend and daughter of her other best friend at her side, “you haven’t gotten a pedicure have you?” “nope, just as promised, I know the ritual.” ————

Then later that evening came. With your Uncle Masaru dutifully supplying y’all with snacks: charcuterie, popcorn, chocolate truffles that were to die for, and a splashing of champagne as you participated in the matriarchs first night get-together ritual; painting each others nails. . . Auntie Mitsuki raised her glass to her lips with a coy smile as she encouraged Aunty Inko to spill the tea about her recent dating life to you. The three of you flopped onto the couch. Inko inbetween the two of you brandishing a bottle of orange mandarin nail polish. She had the steadiest hand and they’d always given you the honor of going first, especially as the only daughter out of three. your freshly shaved legs were thrown over Inko’s lap with a smattering of charcuterie goodies on your plate. Meanwhile Mitsuki held onto the bowl of popcorn. “so y/n, it really all started back when Izuku started school - “

Mitsuki shoved a handful of popcorn into her friends open mouth, “ - it’s a real slow burner.” she swiped the polish over your nails, “ahem as I was saying it started back then. This dashing man who had become a teacher and mentor to Izuku at school had started coming over monthly for house checks when they had all those villains at the school. Of course I got updates from Izuku - thristy.” Mitsuki grabbed a glass from the table with a straw and held it to her mouth.

you happily crunched away on your cheese and crackers as Masaru peeked his head around the kitchen, “you ladies need more drinks?” “yes please!” You chirped as he brought you another bottle of soda. “- anyway, the school continued these meetings even when the students moved to the dorms and eventually within some time I realized he had such a interest and love for my son that I couldn’t help but wonder about the man himself. And well, then we started chatting about our life’s our interests our hobbies, everything under the sun and not just Izuku. But I was too shy and embarrassed to date a man like that. A retired hero!” Mitsuki poked the bottom of your foot with her ‘this is the good part’ face. “I mean he’s an icon! All Might. The All Might had been visiting me for two and a half years now, loved my son, and showed nothing but kindness, admiration, and respect. Well, after last summer I decided I wanted to bring some of that confidence back and so Izuku and I started walking every weekend and he helped me start a at home workout routine. Oh- He’s huge now, my Izuku! Never would have thought, but that’s what it takes to be a hero.” At this point your eyes were as big as saucers as you stared at Mitsuki for confirmation. To which she only nodded. “So you’re telling me that you two haven’t been dating this whole time?” You asked incredulously. She looked up from her lap, “What no, of course not! We’ve waited for Izuku to graduate and then for me to feel ready to be comfortable to date.” “I can’t believe this. Izuku’s been telling me that y’all have been dating since his last half of highschool!” “WHAT?!” “oh Inky you really ought to have seen it from his perspective. It was so obvious to the rest of us!” “wait what? Really?!”

Slam. The three of you barely heard anything between your playful teasing, but Masaru had heard and gone upstairs to help the last holiday guests arrive. “hey!” You shouted as popcorn flew across the air, “No fair I have zero ammunition!” you were getting pelted with popcorn. Inko in the cross fires. “Well isn’t this a delicious battle zone!” Inko giggled catching the assaulting popcorn in her mouth with a crunch. More thuds moved down the stairs.

“Oi.”

“Mom! - Mitsuki! Y/N!”

“ - already yelling without us, huh, what’s life come to?” Mitsuki vaulted off the couch to pull her son into a loving headlock, “Oh my adult brat has come home!” It’d been about two maybe three years since you’d last seen them, between graduation and training camps the last few summers consisted of your family and their parents. Now you had you admit they both looked totally grown up. And almost intimidated-ly so . . . you blinked trying to take it in. Katsuki still dressed like he had a rap album to drop. Thank ‘might he grew out of that one goth phase. Sporting a tight, really tight fitting black t-shirt and matching joggers. And Izuku wore an equally tight “Shirt” shirt with khakis. Always much more summer appropriate. The t-shirts left none of their reps to guess. None of there victories or losses unaccounted for. you blinked, you knew about these, heck you’d seen pictures of them but the different scars littering their bodies still caught you off guard. It’s nothing compared to seeing the real thing. It made it much more real. I mean it still surprises you that these two kids you’d grown up with were real heroes.

. . . until you watched Katsuki let his mom wrestle him into a noogie before throwing an arm around her as she rested her head on his shoulder. well, Mitsuki could wrestle just about any giant. Meanwhile, Izuku walked over to the couch and gave his mom a hug. so they were the same childhood dorks you’d grown up with. you giggled as your legs got caught between, “Hey Izuku!” He broke away from his mom, “And Y/N wow! It’s so good to see you!” You grinned opening your arms for an Izuku hug. As he pulled back he smiled sheepishly, scarred fingers gently brushing through your hair, “you’ve got popcorn.” “yeah I’m not as talented as your mom.” “oh yeah, no one can beat her at her own party tricks,” he shrugged. Your blonde childhood friend sauntered up beside the green bean. immediately the house lights were blocked out from their, still surprising, bulky pro-hero frames. “Hey n/n, good to see ya’.” you smiled up at katsuki, “nice to see you too. Hey wait - where’d you get that Kats?” In his hand was a chocolate truffle that wasn’t done yet. You could have sworn that Masaru was still whipping those up in the kitchen. Katsuki grunted, “doesn’t matter to you,” before hastily plopping the treat into his mouth and crossing his arms as he chewed, “can’t let you make that face anymore, it won’t work on me.” “Aw come on Katsuki, we’ve been waiting on those and you just got here. Plus what ever happened to ladies first?” You teased. he turned his face away, “nope, can’t make me. I won’t get you anything from the kitchen this time . . . and neither will “

Izuku already disappeared muttering to Masaru in the kitchen to fetch a tray, “she’s trapped my mother in a pedicure and she can’t even get up because her nail polish isn’t dry.” Katsuki hissed in defeat, “damn you nerd.” meanwhile the rest of you cheered thanks for Mr. Bakugou for baking and Izuku for being kind enough to help bring a batch in. “ oh my god honey these are to die for ~ !” “shut it ma’ you say that every single time he makes them.” “hey! it’s true!” “yeah, plus that’s her catchphrase sweetheart.” “and so another year, the same Bakugou family script. It’s gonna be a wonderful trip,” Inko giggled, now flanked by you and Izuku who feed her a truffle. “that it is.”

#mysteriesmusing #Houseboat Holiday AU #bakugou katsuki #izuku midoriya #mha fanfiction #bhna fanfiction #reader insert #fem reader #college reader #pro hero katsuki #pro hero deku #I’m so excited to share this fabulous idea that’s been swirling around in my head for the past few days! #id love to know what y’all think! #family friend summer vaca

[seasidepickup]

college sucks, i just want to read, and get lost in fantasy worlds, and you’re telling me i have to keep up with the world and know what’s going on around me at all times??? let a girl LIVE

#college reader

[lythea-creation]

Escape - Touka Kirishima x fem Kaneki reader

summary: Being the twin of a half-ghoul and in love with an actual ghoul isn't exactly the safest way to live for a mere human. Will you decide to escape when you're confronted with that reality?

warnings: throwing up, kinda torture, pretty angsty, it's Tokyo Ghoul (come on)

word count: 2.285

Author's note: Feel free to check out my Masterlists and make requests. No reposting please! Reblogging, comments and requests are always appreciated <3 If you like the story/my writing, please don't be shy to say it via comments or asks! It takes you a few seconds and might make my day. It's the best appreciation you can show to a writer you like.

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As my last university lecture had been canceled, I decided to visit my brother and get myself a delicious coffee at the Antique. But when I walked through the park my plans suddenly changed.

Touka was sitting on a blanket across from a girl I did not know. I was irritated to see them having a picnic.

My (e/c) eyes met Touka's violet ones and the world seemed to fade away for a moment.

Our staring stopped when the other girl started talking to her.

I brushed it off and continued my way but was taken off guard by the other girl's loud voice: “Hey, (f/n)! Why don't you join us?”

Surprised and completely overwhelmed I moved over to them. Considering that this girl was yelling through the park she would not let me go away easily anyway.

Hesitantly I looked down at the duo, not sure if it was actually fine to sit down and join them.

Touka apparently noticed my insecurity and inched a bit to the side to give me more space.

“Hi! I'm Yoriko Kosaka, Touka's best friend”, she introduced herself energetically.

“I'm (f/n) Kaneki”, I said smiling softly at her.

Honestly I did not know why I had ended up in such a situation. Touka and I had never even done anything together outside of Antique, although we did come along well.

“You don't have to join us if you don't want to”, Touka clarified.

Yoriko hit Touka's arm in a scolding manner whispering: “You can't say something like this. You'll make her feel unwelcome.”

I could not help but laugh. It was odd to see Touka being treated so casually.

Yoriko was visibly relieved about my reaction. She spread several delicious looking dishes in front of us. “Feel free to eat anything you like. I made more than enough anyway”, Yoriko offered.

“Thanks. That's really kind”, I replied trying some of the food that tasted even better than it looked.

But I was worried about Touka. What was she supposed to do with all the food placed in front of her?

“So how did you two get to know each other?”, Yoriko wondered.

“Oh, nothing spectacular. My brother works at the same coffee shop as Touka”, I explained.

“You have a brother?! I always wanted to have siblings! Is there a huge age gap between the both of you?”, she questioned.

“Yoriko, you should calm down”, Touka scolded her.

“Ken is two minutes older than me. But most people guess that I'm the older twin”, I proclaimed.

That made Yoriko talk non-stop.

After a while Touka excused herself to search for a restroom.

I secretly watched her before vanishing there myself. Luckily no one else was here.

“Touka, you have to let it out”, I reminded her.

“That's none of your business”, she snapped at me, though her voice sounded pained.

“You're only going to hurt yourself”, I declared.

“I don't care. Yoriko made this food for me. I won't throw it up”, she resisted.

“Just because your body can't handle the food, doesn't mean you don't appreciate it. Yoriko wanted to make you happy, right? If you sit here suffering because of her food, that's the exact opposite of Yoriko's wishes.”

As Touka stayed silent I continued: “It's not your fault, Touka. Throwing the food up, won't turn you into a bad friend or a monster. You shouldn't punish yourself because your body doesn't work the way you want it to. If you could tell her Yoriko would understand. It would hurt her to see you suffer like that.”

Fortunately my words had the right effect and made her through up.

When she unlocked the door and left the stall, she pulled out a toothbrush and paste and began brushing her teeth.

After finishing, Touka eyed me in a strange way before returning to Yoriko.

“You two really have to like hanging around each other considering how long you made me wait”, Yoriko considered.

“Sorry”, I apologized sheepishly.

“Don't worry about it. I'm glad that Touka has at least one more friend. Her social skills aren't the best after all”, Yoriko chuckled.

“And I'm the mean one”, Touka stated sarcastically making us laugh.

When the sun started setting we decided to go home, although Touka and I went to Antique.

On the way Touka suddenly pushed me into an abandoned alleyway.

“You should stop that”, she advised me.

“Stop what?”, I replied confused.

“Hanging out at the Antique, being around ghouls all the time”, she enlightened me.

“You want me to stay away from Ken, you and the others?”, I questioned irritated.

“Exactly. You've no clue what you're getting yourself into. A few hours ago you told me that throwing up Yoriko's food wouldn't turn me into a monster. But you forgot one important fact. I already am a monster”, she claimed.

My head shook automatically. “No, you're not. Not all ghouls are monsters.”

Touka pinned me against the wall of a building and activated her kakugan.

My breathing quickened on its own as our faces were barely inches apart.

Touka did not know that I had a crush on her. Instead my reaction only confirmed her suggestion that I was too naive and actually just realized that I was afraid of her.

Her kagune painted everything behind her red as I could see nothing in the background but her red wing(s).

“You want to scare me off? Then what about Yoriko?”, I asked her, desperately trying to calm down.

“That's a different story. She doesn't know anything about my true identity and I'm the only ghoul she actively interacts with”, Touka proclaimed.

“What do you expect me to do? It's not like I could just disappear. Ken is my twin and he has already become famous throughout the ghouls and the CCG. I can't escape anyway”, I resonated.

Touka was obviously upset.

“If you want me to leave you alone I'll do it. But why did you let me join your picnic then?”, I wondered.

“Yoriko just asked me if I knew you and then invited you. It's not like it's been my decision”, she mumbled.

“You could have lied or told me to leave. Usually you're reckless in relation to other people's emotions”, I recalled.

Touka glared at me. Was that her last resort?

“I never asked you or your brother to enter my life, okay? You pretend to know my situation and feelings, but you know nothing! I'll never get the chance to live the life of a human”, she exclaimed.

“What do you think is so great about being a human? You consider yourself a monster. But there simply is no species that is more of a monster than humans”, I shot back.

She froze. Her face obviously revealed her shock.

“Maybe I don't know what it's like to be a ghoul. And you're right that I practically know nothing about you, but it's the same for you. You always dream of being a human without really knowing how it is.” The volume of my voice decreased during my accusation.

I gently pushed Touka away and walked without thinking about directions. I was not in the mood to go to the Antique anymore.

By now darkness had settled over the city. In the distance I could see the street lights illuminating the crowd on the main street.

Suddenly I felt my back forcefully hitting a wall.

“You smell strange”, a low voice stated.

My body hurt from the impact of the kick my stomach had taken, but I did not need to be a genius to know that a ghoul was standing in front of me.

“Who are you? What are you?”, the ghoul asked me.

I had never seen him before. At least he did not seem to be one of the mindless predators. Otherwise I would have been long dead.

I forced myself back to my feet.

Hoping that Touka would search for me was the only option I had right now. So I had to get more time.

A loud cracking sound and an awful pain ripped me out of my thoughts as a scream left my lips. Unfortunately the scream was swallowed by the many cornered streets surrounding me. There was no chance to tell from which direction it had come.

“If I ask you a question, you answer. Got that?”, the ghoul growled letting go of my now broken left arm.

I nodded while suppressing my tears.

The ghoul buried his face in my hair and inhaled my scent deeply.

Everything inside of me screamed to flee. But that was impossible.

“So?”, the ghoul drew my attention back to him.

“I'm a mere human”, I answered slightly out of breath from the incredible pain.

“That would have been my guess too, considering how delicate you are. But something about you is different. Tell me”, he demanded leaving my hair alone.

“Sorry, but I don't know what you're talking about”, I lied.

Although I was scared, I had to protect the people of the Antique.

The ghoul became furious burying his nails in my right arm and left hip making me wince.

“Don't lie to me! How did you survive an encounter with a ghoul just shortly before I met you?”, he spit out shaking me brutally.

“What? She's a ghoul?!”, I faked dismay.

I hated the way my voice was shaking and yet I could not help it.

Suddenly the ghoul broke down pulling me with him as his claws were still resting inside of me.

“Idiot”, Touka murmured as she cut off the fingers of the ghoul instead of pulling his claws out of me to prevent me from bleeding out.

Her frame appeared to be blurry.

“Don't dare to pass out!”, she threatened me and pulled me into her arms.

I listened to her heartbeat as she carried me toward Antique.

“It's so great to be a human”, I groaned sarcastically coughing up a bit of blood.

“That's why I told you to get away”, Touka shot back.

“As if that … would solve … the problem”, I responded. “Isn't it hard for you … to carry my bleeding form? I have to smell like a feast … to you”, I assumed.

“Stop this nonsense!”, she shouted angrily.

I smiled tiredly at her. “But I knew that you would come for my rescue … You're the safest place for me.”

Her grip around me tightened slightly.

I felt myself getting weaker leading my hands to hold onto Touka's shirt.

“I don't want to die”, I whispered, silent tears flowing down my cheeks.

“And you won't. Just stay conscious”, Touka encouraged me.

Her pace had already developed into running.

“Touka?”

“Hm?”

“Can you stand still for a moment, please?”

“I thought you didn't want to die?”

“Please”, I begged her.

She slowed down before coming to a complete hold, careful not to shake me too much.

I forced myself up a bit to be on eye level with her.

Concern was evident in her eyes, which was rare for her to show.

I gathered all my courage and strength and kissed her. It was short. But for this moment I felt full of life again.

Touka looked at me surprised when I pulled back.

“You should start running again”, I considered.

Touka was fast. That was something I had gotten to know very early. But I had never seen her run this fast before.

When we arrived at the Antique it had already closed. So there were no customers to horrify with my awful state.

The shocked gasps and Ken's worried voice were the last things I heard before finally passing out.

When I came back to my senses, pain was the first thing I felt.

Thankfully the curtains of the room I was in had been closed.

“(f/n)”, Ken's soft concerned voice reached my ears.

He was sitting next to me eyeing me carefully.

I groaned in pain as I tried to sit up.

Ken immediately stopped me, telling me to rest.

“How much time has passed?”, I wondered my throat feeling uncomfortably sore.

Ken helped me drink some water before answering: “Two days.”

“Touka ...”

“Is at school”, he answered my unspoken question.

“Actually skipped school”, Touka corrected him as she entered the room.

“Ken. Could you leave us alone for a moment, please?”, I requested.

He nodded. “Of course.”

None of us knew how to start after Ken had left the room. So for a while we simply looked at each other in silence.

“Touka, I'm sorry. Kissing you in such a moment after already being rejected … I didn't really give you a chance to turn me down. It's been selfish and unfair”, I recognized.

All of a sudden Touka kissed me passionately. It was way more intense than our first one and filled with countless emotions.

“You really got yourself into this now. Too late to escape”, Touka warned me. “I'm not going to let you walk around on your own again. You know that, right?”

“I think I can handle that”, I stated smiling.

From that day on Touka and I spent every free minute together. The thought of escaping never crossed my mind for a second as I had never been so happy in my entire life.

#tokyo ghoul #touka kirishima x fem reader #lgbtqia + #angst #kaneki reader #ghoul attack #blood #injuries #college reader #romance #human reader #violence

[joytri]

Isn't it odd how much fatter a book gets when you've read it several times? As if something were left between the pages every time you read it. Feelings, thoughts, sounds, smells... and then, when you look at the book again many years later, you find yourself there too.. a slightly younger self, slightly different, as if the book had preserved you like a pressed flower... both strange and familiar.

- Cornelia Funke, The Inkheart

#aesthetic #dark academia #coffee #art #books #academia #college #light academia #studyblr #literature #books and coffee #books and libraries #Writing #Reading #Tbr #Readers #Quotes #dark acadamia quotes #Writersblr #dark acadamia aesthetic #Academic #light acadamia aesthetic #chaotic academia

[jackxo]

☕️ ℭ𝔞𝔫 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔯 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔠𝔦𝔱𝔶 𝔫𝔬𝔦𝔰𝔢𝔰?

#academia #chaotic academia #dark academia #classic academia #literature #uni #aesthetic #college #english literature #lit #read #reader #reading #male reader #city #city life #new york city #city moodboard #city aesthetic #fall aesthetic #autumn aesthetic #vintage aesthetic #green academia #dark acamedia #dark acadamia aesthetic #light academia #academia aesthetic #academics #chaotic academic aesthetic #romantic academia

[azlrse]

– basically idia's married life with mc

#goddamn still alive everyone #busy due to college but pretty much active here #twst x reader #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst idia #idia shroud #twst idia shroud x reader #idia shroud x reader #idia x mc #twst headcanons #disney twst #twst wonderland #idia x reader #idia shroud x yuu

[alphabetboyluvr]

habits of a clandestine nature | jjk

pairing: collegejk x female oc (angst, smut)

warnings: college!jk, rich!jk, he's a college nepo baby!!!, waitress!oc, flashbacks to summer, (mild) enemies to lovers, oc lives with tae (they're besties), jk is besties with jimin, mentions of parents infidelity, mentions of oc's virginity (lost prior to the story starting), a little angsty, jk is nawt a fuckboi, but he is stewpid, unprotected sex, bathroom escapades, multiple positions, oral (f), mentions of blowjobs, house parties, jackson wang!!!!!!!, yoongi has no lines but is also one of my fave characters lmao

wordcount: 16k

note from holly: this was written as a commission over on ko-fi!! it went through soooo many changes and edits - at one point it was over 24k lmao. i have so much lore and backstory for this couple, but I'll save it for a rainy day!! one of the main prompts was the 2004 classic a cinderella story, and there are little nods to it throughout the story, including the diner name!! a commenter on wattpad said the pairing reminded them of danny and sandy from grease and like... i see it lmao. anywaysss enjoy!! <33

minors dni // cross posted to wattpad

It's a well-trained habit, your fleeting glance towards the door of Montgomery's Diner when the bell rings.

Though the clatter of cheap porcelain being stacked on a tray almost manages to drown out the chiming metal, it's never quite enough. Softening your hardened expression, you continue on with your work, careful to not let your contempt show too much.

You already know who it is—or at least, who it could be. Only saw the girl leading the pack, but know that where Claudia goes, the rest of The Untouchables will surely follow.

Gorgeous in a way that money can't buy, and careless in a way that money makes up for, she's never taken personal issue with you. Barely even registers your existence.

From your quick look, you know that it's not just the girls today. It's the guys, too.

All with parents on the college board, they're regarded as campus royalty. Are aptly known as The Untouchables, 'cause the rules that apply to you don't apply to them. They'll likely continue with their lives in a similar manner for years to come, and will pass these attributes off to their offspring, whom they'll name after countries or distant relatives who were once regarded to be regal.

Gathering up the last of the discarded napkins on the table, you take one final, fleeting look just to see if a familiar face is with them.

It's not that you actively want to see him.

You just haven't seen him in the best part of a fortnight, which is odd.

He's been in your section of the Diner near enough every single night of the past three months—but school is starting up again, and he's got appearances to keep.

God-forbid Jeon Jungkook—son of the Admissions Director and heir-apparent to an unholy amount of real estate tied to the university—ever associates with the lowly scholarship kids like you.

The only reason The Untouchables ever come to this Diner is because it's the last remaining place close to the university that hasn't been snapped up and integrated into the campus. You guess it must feel like freedom to them, in a way.

In fact, you know this is the case. Jungkook has told you himself.

Has told you a lot.

Told you far too much.

Such candid honesty from him, shared during the lonely heat of a sweltering summer, is what makes it so jarring when he looks away as soon as his dark eyes meet yours.

Tall, broad, handsome; he's everything the gossip magazines you read during your downtime swoon over, but also everything they warn against. Too pretty for his own good, the resident agony aunt would call him if she were ever to see him. Would assume his ego is far larger than his shoe size; superiority complex embedded into his skin like the ink of his tattoos.

And while you think that perhaps those assumptions could be true, you also know the reality of him; how gentle his hands can be. Helpful, too. Delicate. Ornate, almost, when they fold bills into five petal flowers. Strong, when they grip the back of your neck. Commanding, when they're wrapped around his leather steering wheel.

You shouldn't know the way his car smells. Shouldn't know how he presses the heel of his palm against the wheel when he's reversing, or just how easy it is to clamber into the backseats over the centre console.

But you do, and it rests on your tongue like a dirty little secret desperate to escape: I know you.

You're not sure if you know him better than The Untouchables, but you know him independent of them. Not many people do.

It's rare to find him without Jimin cracking a joke by his side, or Claudia making a slightly mean remark masked as innocent ignorance as she leads him astray.

But summer happened, and so did Jungkook. With his friends away at their holiday homes, and his father's infidelity ripping his family apart at the seams, he'd needed something to stitch himself back together. Let you thread yourself through his very being, and once you'd tied yourself in a pretty little bow around his heart, he'd cut you off.

Is that not what all craftsmen do, though? Discard what no longer serves a purpose?

Memories of him, in all the places you never should have let him in, ravage your thoughts.

The scent of his aftershave lingers on the childhood plushie he used to tease you for having on your bed, but would also automatically hug into his chest every single time he entered your room.

The things he did—and the things he didn't do—corrupt your dreams and leave you restless when you wake.

The smudged mascara under your eyes hides the bags from your lack of sleep, and your only respite is that the little puffs beneath his eyes are extra prominent today. He's tried, too.

For a minute, you feel vindicated.

It doesn't last.

For the past few months, if he's been sleeping badly, you've known about it. Kept him company in this very Diner, or in the basement of a party house he was dumb enough to take you to, forgetting he'd have to return there after summer finished, too.

The walls might not talk, but Jackson Wang certainly does. Jungkook knows it's only a matter of time until his dirty little secrets—no matter how pure they actually are—become the talk of the town.

He always slept well in your bedroom, though.

Funny, that.

He's dressed simply, today: white t-shirt, black jeans, chunky black boots on his feet. It's still warm out, even if the sun does begin to set a little earlier than it had been during the hotter months. He's got no need for a jacket, and you despise how undeniably gorgeous his arms are in the dewy humidity. Tattoos trailing up and down his skin, you'd be forgiven for thinking he was a man of complexities.

Turns out he's just like every other good-for-nothing fuck boy who wasn't worth your time.

The Untouchables sit towards the front of the Diner. Your section is at the back, and there's no way in hell you're deviating from your set section. Not today. Not when he's with them.

"I thought we were free," your colleague, Maria, grumbles as you bring your tray to the counter.

Like you, she's a scholarship kid. Is the one who got you the job at the Diner after you both moved into the shared house you live in off-campus. Three of you live there—you, Maria, and Taehyung—and you all share the same disdain for The Untouchables.

"It never ends," you tease in reply. Glance over your shoulder, back at the table.

They're laughing and joking about something you can't quite decipher. All of them, except Jungkook.

There's a sternness to him. One of which you'd forgotten about. With one hand on the table, the other in his lap, his thumb fidgets over his tense knuckles. Sunglasses rest on the crown of his head, pushed up into his hair to hold it back off his face. Staring at nothing much, he's chewing up his bottom lip until he feels the familiar burn of your eyes on him. Looks your way.

It's curious, how looking at you halts his body from its self-soothing actions. He no longer nibbles on his lip. His tightly balled first eases.

"What do you think, Kookie?" Claudia drawls, drawing his attention back to the group. "You coming tonight?"

"Hm?" He questions, eyes pulling away from you. He begins to rub his thumb over his knuckles again. "Sorry, was just looking at the menu board. What are we talking about?"

"Party at the Conservatory," Jimin says from across the table. Though he's the one sitting beside Claudia, everyone knows Jungkook is the one that she's really interested in. Has been since their first day of college. "First of the semester. It's one of their birthdays. Reckon it'll be a big one."

On campus, but close enough to the boundaries that it's never infringed upon by security or university officials, the Conservatory isn't what it seems. A boarding house for the creme-de-la-creme of the Botany and Conservation PhD students, it's surrounded by land. Has rows upon rows of greenhouses for their projects.

Of the few times you've been there, you've always thought it was like a maze. The perfect place to get lost. The perfect place to get found, too.

Unfortunately for the PhD students, the house custodian took on the role for one thing and one thing only: to throw the biggest ragers on campus. Knows fuck all about growing anything that isn't illegal. Only managed to get the role, 'cause like the rest of The Untouchables, his dad works high up in the college. He's a few years older than them. Belongs to a different generation of campus royalty, but is keen on making sure his legacy remains.

After all, there ain't no party like a Jackson Wang party.

Namjoon—one of the Botanists and the birthday boy himself—has started padlocking the greenhouses.

Another one of them—Yoongi—minored in mechanical engineering. Has a coin-operated lock on his bathroom door. Makes enough money from a single Jackson Wang party to sustain himself for an entire month.

Hoseok and Jin, the remaining two, are just as messy as Jackson. Have only started PhDs because they don't know what else to do and don't want their youth to abruptly end. Live for the parties; survive for the studying.

"Now, who's told you that?" Jungkook smiles, as if the prospect of showing up at the Conservatory doesn't make him feel a little bit sick. "Jackson?"

"Obviously."

"Well, of course he's gonna tell you it'll be big," Jungkook laughs. "Wants to rope as many of you fuckers in as he can."

"And it works every time," Jimin smirks back. "If everyone thinks it'll be a rager, everyone will want to go. He's a marketing genius, if you ask me."

Jungkook rolls his eyes. Is fond in how he interacts with his friends. Has grown up with most of them. Whether or not they're everyones cup of tea is debatable, but they're his people.

And yet he finds himself glancing back over to the counter. You're not there anymore. Are out back, he assumes. Knows the layout, now. Where the walk-in freezer is. The little nook that you sit in during your break. He doubts any of his friends have ever been in a commercial kitchen, let alone one at a place like this.

While yes, his friends have only ever been good to him, he knows that it isn't the case for everyone they interact with. Is well aware that his friends would be confused beyond belief if they ever found out he knows how to click through the Diner's cash register and find the discount section. Would be even more perplexed if they were to see his initials hidden in one of the codes.

But summer was lonely.

Or at least it was.

Lonely, until it wasn't. Isolating, until he sought solace in someone he can't even bring himself to speak to in front of his friends.

Casting his eyes back down to the table, well aware that he's got no reason to feel as cut up as he does, he fakes a laugh. Looks up again at his friends with a grin so sincere that they'd never guess the way it feels like his heart is in his throat. "Alright. You're on. What time?"

The conversation dissolves into plans—what to wear, what drink to take.

After a summer apart, Jungkook thought it would be nice to be with his friends again. Thought he'd be excited; that he'd welcome them all back with open arms. Ask them about their summers, and lament his time spent here.

When Jimin asks him why he didn't go to the Italian villa his parents normally insist they spend the summer at, Jungkook shrugs.

"Dad has some stuff to sort out, so it was better to stay here," he says, minimising the reality of what really happened. Even you don't know for certain. All you know is that his father did something incredibly immoral, to the point where Jungkook can't even stand to look at him.

Is why he spent all those nights in the diner.

Was confusing at first. He was always angry. Always frowning. Always ordering black coffees and nothing else, huddled up in the corner booth, away from the world.

But with summer comes monsoons, and with monsoons come terrible conditions for walking home.

He expected you to say no when he offered you a ride. You expected to say no, too—but then a please and thank you had escaped your lips.

A routine grew. Habits formed.

Curious little thing, habits are. 21 days. That's all the time they take to develop.

Jungkook spent 63 days of summer with you in varying capacities. Enough time to learn a habit three times over.

The one that haunts him most is how it felt to have your hand beneath his on his gear stick. Finds the absence of you when he drives unbearable. Knows he's got no one to blame but himself; not just for creating distance, but also for minimising it in the first place.

He's the one who offered you a lift. He's the one who messaged you on your days off to see if you fancied going for a drive. He's the one who didn't turn the AC on just to get you shaking your jacket off your shoulders.

And he's the one that drove you out to the coast one evening for no other reason than wanting to hear the waves. He's the one who opened up to you about his family. He's the one that made things more than what they were.

Had walked along the shore with you, too scared to hold your hand beneath the lunar light. Opted for playful banter instead, nudging you into the lapping waves.

But the waves got bigger, and Jungkook's unbridled desire to have you close did just the same. Like always, he took things too far. Drenched in sea water, you'd laughed with him for the entire ride home.

Invited him in. Said, "The salt will ruin your clothes. We should wash them."

"Hand wash only," he'd said, pinging his damp t-shirt against his chest. It stuck to him in such a way you learned all of his edges before you ever saw him naked—not like there was much time between these two instances. Ended up in your shower with him, clothes beneath your feet, the excuse of hand washing disregarded the second he had you naked.

You learned three things about Jungkook in that shower.

The first is that he giggles. Lips on yours, hands clutching your jaw, whenever the water was a little too intrusive, he'd separate with a laugh. Would kiss you again, a smile still on his face. Would pretend as if he wasn't giggling.

But he was, and it was lovely.

The second was that he's the type to lean his head forward, not tip it back. With his hands pressed to the shower tiles behind you as your fingers wrapped around his thick shaft, he let his head dip to his chest. Gave him ample opportunity to press kisses to the top of your head—or at least it did until you got to your knees and started taking his hard cock in your mouth.

"Shit," he had husked. Whined. Praised. "Fuck. You're so fuckin' good at that."

It was around then that you became aware he was a head pusher, too.

Almost as if he was saving the best until last, the third thing you learned was how he likes to cum; in your sheets, cock buried in your pussy, your hands clasped above your head. Missionary, 'cause he likes to kiss you through it. In your bed, 'cause he likes losing himself in everything you are. Prefers finishing inside you, but you refuse to fuck him without a condom so he never gets exactly what he wants. It's close enough, though.

Spent weeks—months—laying unfair claim to your body, and now he can't bring himself to look in your direction. It infuriates you.

But more than anything else, it embarrasses you.

Even your reflection laughs at you. Cackles 'told you so' every time you look in the mirror.

You always wondered why you never heard much about Jungkook's hook ups around campus. Everyone knows about Jimin and how his cock has been perpetually wet since the first day of freshers week, but there's always been a secrecy when it comes to Jungkook.

It's something you've teased him about; in your sheets, bodies clammy, his heart beating so fast in his chest you'd been forgiven for thinking he'd just run a marathon.

"When do I have to sign it?" You had giggled.

"Sign what?" He'd husked, voice all wispy and fucked out.

"The NDA," you'd replied as if it was obvious. "It's been, like, what? A month? Surely it's about time you made sure I kept my mouth shut like all your other girls do?"

On your front, your arms were folded over his chest, and he was gently rearranging the pretty little updo he'd made a mess of. Though he was looking at his hands as he replied, you kept your eyes on his. Studied his sincerity.

"Reason you don't hear about other girls is 'cause there aren't any."

A smile twitched at the corner of your lips, but you didn't let it shine for him.

"Sure."

There was a small jerk to his torso as a breathy smirk formed on his face.

"You think I can't be trusted?"

"I think it's foolish to trust any man."

His deep, dark eyes sank down to focus on yours. Offered you all the sincerity you'd be searching for, and more.

"That's all I am, huh?" He'd challenged you. "Just another one of your men?"

"One of the many," you'd teased just to rile him up a little.

"Ah," he'd played along. "So that's why I always have to wear a condom?"

With a saccharine smirk on your lips, you'd gotten back in position, legs straddled over his hips. Had kissed him. Whispered, "No. That's just because I know it annoys you."

"You annoy me all the time," he'd mumbled into your lips, hands gripping your waist to get you grinding against his still sensitive cock. Barely fifteen minutes since he'd last finished, there was no way he was ready to go again.

"Hm?" You'd hummed against his kisses, then began to work your way down his neck in a way that always got him a little moany. "If I'm so annoying, why are you getting hard again, baby?"

"You can be annoying and hot," he told you as he desperately tried to not let his insatiable need for you show.

"Is that how you like your girls?" You'd ribbed once more, just to piss him off a little. It was never serious. Never something you would actually fret over.

Perhaps you should have done, but then he told you with a little too much candour, "No. It's how I like my girl. Singular."

Loose lips sink ships, and Jungkook was one iceberg away from greeting the ocean floor. Closing his lips back down on yours, he was making sure you were just as insatiable for him as he was for you. He didn't cum again that evening, even if you did more times than you cared to count.

A greedy lover, is Jeon Jungkook. Edacious.

And so you understand, now, why the girls he gets entangled with stay silent; how the hoaxes he plays leave them utterly hysterical. They're subject to silence, because who would possibly believe all those sweet little lies he tells? How mad would they be considered if they tried to convince anyone he has a heart?

His brazen lack of humanity is proven when he comes to pay for the table. Any of them could have done it. Yet he elects to stand in front of your till and wait for you to serve him.

Have you not served him enough?

You refuse to utter a single word in his direction. Don't look at him, don't give him any satisfaction. He can read it for himself, he can pay, and he can fuck off.

"Keep the change," he mumbles tossing down the bills—but like fuck are you gonna keep anything he gives you.

He begins to walk away, a little shrunken in his stature.

"Excuse me, sir."

Stopping dead in his tracks, Jungkook is perplexed to hear you address him so coldly.

"Your change," you say, holding a closed hand out for him to hold his own hand beneath. He doesn't want to cause a scene. Obliges. Is surprised when notes, not coins, fall into his palm.

More specifically, notes folded into the shape of flowers. His handiwork, he's certain. Was something he used to do in the early hours of your late night diner shifts. If he said something a little mean, or bickered with you a little too hard, he'd fold his notes up like posies and give them to you as a remedy.

Never used those notes to buy you real flowers, mind you.

Back when things were still easy, you pulled him up on it. Told him that you'd be far easier to seduce with a little wooing. He'd told you that you were easy to seduce regardless.

You didn't speak to him for the rest of your shift.

Ended it with fourteen folded bills in the shape of a bouquet, and when the backseat windows of his car had a thick veil of condensation coating them that same evening, he'd drawn you flowers on them.

"No point in flowers," he'd told you. "They just wither up and die."

Which is funny, 'cause it kinda looks like Jungkook is doing that very same thing right in this moment. He goes to speak, but nothing comes out.

Disappointing, you think, then realise of course he is. Has done nothing but disappoint you.

You smile. Jungkook looks like he wants to cry. Good.

"Don't let the door hit you on the way out."

21 repetitions. That's how many times it takes to form a habit. You know this.

You also know that 90 days of this repetition will form a habit to last a lifetime.

As you hook up your apron, and free your hair of the ribbon that had been tightly wrapped around your ponytail, you know these are 'lifetime' habits. Apron, then ponytail. Always.

But when you say goodbye to Maria, and ask if she'll be at home this evening, you find yourself leaning into a recently formed habit. It's not anything particularly noteworthy. Not something anyone would notice.

Well, not anyone who matters. You don't think Jungkook counts as someone who matters, anymore.

But he'd noticed; how you'd started glancing across to his parking spot whenever you clocked out. Had teased you for it. Asked you if it was the highlight of your day, seeing him there, as if it wasn't the highlight of his.

You should have known the playful banter when he told you not to get used to it wasn't really banter at all.

Yet here you are, glancing across to his parking spot only to see it empty.

It's not even like it's his spot. Whenever he's with his friends, they walk. Live right on campus, so don't need to drive, and if they do, they'll park right by the doors.

In the height of summer, when the lot was empty and Jungkook wasn't driving for his sake but for yours, he liked to park in the far corner. Said dumb shit about not wanting any weirdos scratching it. Whined and moaned whenever someone performed the very human act of parking next to the only other car in an empty parking lot.

"So many spaces!" He'd blather on. Would speak with his hands. Get deliberately more animated, 'cause it always made you laugh. "And they choose here?!"

The memories make you smile, until the yellow headlights of another car flood into the parking lot. They reveal what's right in front of you; a crowd of cars and not a single one of them you care for.

It's not like you cared for Jungkook, either. Was just something to pass the time when the streets were quiet and his head was loud. 

In turn, you gave him quiet, and he made your summer feel loud.

But the leaves are turning brown and the water in the roadside puddles is becoming stale. The seasons have changed and so has the nature of your interactions. It's fine. You don't care. Really. Couldn't think of anyone you'd want to hang around less. Would rather die than associate with The Untouchables.

You never needed a lift, not really. Especially not when it always took you an hour to get home 'cause Jungkook just wanted to keep on driving.

Grumbling to yourself just to try and divert your mind from thoughts of him, your heart almost skips a beat when your phone vibrates in your pocket. For a second, you wonder if it could be him.

Where you at? It could read. I'm here.

Or maybe, I miss you.

I can't sleep without you.

This is so stupid. Can I come over?

It won't say of those things and you damn well know it.

Your text thread is dormant. The last message is from you, two weeks prior.

You: you not coming in tonight?

You: you'll be pleased to know my fairy godmother turned a pumpkin into a carriage to make sure i got home safe x

You: ... at least let me know if ur alive?

Rolling your eyes at how mortifying your desperation feels, the scowl that settles into your expression is comical. It's like you're fighting with the wind that's threading itself through your hair.

Pulling your phone out, the scowl only intensifies.

Jackass Wang: party tonight

You: so????

One thing about Jackson is that he's not gonna leave anyone on read, especially when he's trying to drum up attendees for his parties.

Jackass Wang: so i haven't seen you around for a while, montgomery

"Fuckin' Montgomery," you mutter at the nickname.

It's the one that all of Jungkook's friends seem to refer to you as, as if you don't have a personality outside of your job.

Still, at least Jackson is a little bit inventive with it. Calls you Monts. Monty, Monstera Plant, Monte Carlo, and god knows what else. If it starts with 'Mon,' he's found a way to end it with a cheeky smirk and smug anticipatory look in your direction, as he awaits your reaction.

You: i like it better when i don't see you x

Jackass Wang: you know that isn't true. loverboy will be there. come with him. or don't. i don't care. you can bring your little friends with you.

You: they'd rather die :) x

Jackass Wang: y'know, you're replying an awful lot for a girl who's not interested ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

You: you just can't take no for an answer

Jackass Wang: yes i can - but you haven't said no yet. c'mon. loverboy has been moping around all week. i can't be arsed with his mardy ass energy all evening.

You: so don't invite him???? i don't see why it's my problem?????

The fact that you don't need clarification of who Jackson means is proof enough that perhaps Jackson's onto something.

Jackass Wang: conservatory any time after 9. be there or be square montgomery. or don't be. i'm sure loverboy can get his dick wet without you, but it's easier for everyone if he doesn't.

You: charming x

Jackass Wang: it's why the ladies love me.

You: all of them except this one, apparently. have a nice party. stay away from the drugs.

Jackass Wang: can't be tamed, monte carlo. nor can loverboy. come keep him company.

The block button towards the top of your message thread looks incredibly tempting. Just a single click and you'll never have to deal with Jackson Wang and his dumb parties ever again.

Part of you can't believe you've ever been associated with them, as it is.

Summer defied the conventions of the life you've built for yourself. You weren't the person you thought you were.

Kicking off your shoes when you arrive home, the door slams shut behind you. A gentle voice calls through to check if it's you.

"Maria's still working," you say as you walk into the kitchen, tossing your bag down on the floor and your phone on the counter.

Taehyung, your best friend since your first week at college, is cooking himself dinner, but offers you a spoon of the tomato sauce he's making. Humming as you taste it, you're amazed by how he manages to make even the simplest thing delicious.

"S'good. What is that? Cumin?"

Nodding, he smiles. "A little paprika, too. You want some?"

His hair is dishevelled, blonde and sunkissed from the sweltering summer skies. He always looks great with a tan; radiant and full of youth.

Shaking your head, you really don't have an appetite. "Think I'm gonna have an early night."

He's about to reply when your phone buzzes. Both of you glance down. Your skin feels red hot, and when Taehyung almost chokes on the spoonful of sauce he's just tried, he's all sorts of confused.

"Why the fuck is Jackson Wang messaging you?"

"Hmm?" You hum as if you have no idea what he's talking about. Realise from the look on his face that he doesn't buy it for a second. "Oh! That Jackson Wang. Think he sent a text to his entire contact list. Something about a party."

"No," Taehyung asserts. "Absolutely not. You cannot bullshit out of this one."

"It's not bullshit," you whine as you pretend to look in the fridge for something to drink. Settle on a beer left by one of Taehyung's friends at a party held last semester. It wasn't quite a Jackson Wang level party, but nothing ever is. "He's just trying to drum up numbers for his stupid party tonight."

Taehyung is many things, but stupid he is not. Though he's blonde (thanks to a bottle of bleach and a few too many jack and cokes), he bends all the stereotypes. His tuition is covered by a scholarship for academic excellence.

"Don't give me that bull."

"It's not bull!"

"So you're telling me, out of everyone at our college, the Jackson Wang is texting you to make up numbers for his party?"

"Yes!" you exclaim, partially a little offended at it being such an unfathomable idea. "And he said you can come too, so maybe you're the one he's really after!"

His expression is flat. You are paper thin.

He's known you long enough to know when you're giving him half-truths.

He also knows you spent the summer alone in this house, and that there's a new toothbrush in the bathroom next to yours.

"You're hooking up with him, aren't you?"

"No!"

Out of everyone to be accused of sleeping with, Jackson Wang is, like, the worst of the worst. He's handsome, sure, but he's also slept with pretty much every girl on campus. Is a teenage boy in a grown adult's body. You'd rather not fornicate with a guy who still finds 'your mum' jokes funny.

Taehyung gasps at your immediate denial. "You are!"

"I'm not!"

"All that talk about saving it for someone special, and you mean to tell me you went and lost it to Jackson fuckin' Wang?!"

Everything about this conversation is making you want to punch yourself in the face. The topic of sex, and just why you've never gotten around to it, has dominated many conversations around this dining table. If you have to discuss it again, you might move out.

"Oh my God," you whine, throwing your head back. "We are not having this conversation."

"Yes, we are."

"No, we're not, because I didn't lose my virginity to Jackson Wang!" You stress. The more you think about it, the more offended you are.

"To Jackson Wang," Taehyung echoes, as he begins to join invisible dots. "But you did lose it to someone."

"No," you insist, but Taehyung refuses to buy it. Knows you too damn well.

He always thought he'd know when you lost it. That it'd be a boy you'd been dating. Committed to. Someone good. Someone worthy. Not someone you keep in the shadows.

"There's something you're not telling me," he frowns. "What the fuck happened this summer?"

With a sigh so deep it's a miracle you're still breathing, you relent. Never signed one of those NDA's you're convinced Jungkook must hand out like candy, as if he's some sort of celebrity and not just some college reprobate.

"Jungkook," you feebly admit. Take a sip on your beer. Don't look at Taheyung, 'cause you're afraid to see his reaction. "Wasn't Jackson. Was Jungkook."

You tell Taehyung everything. How Jungkook never knew you were a virgin. How he still doesn't. How you blame yourself for your hurt, but him for not getting you any band aids to help deal with it; for not kissing you better when he was the one to cause you such hurt in the first place.

As you recite you memories, you play a game against yourself: take a sip every time you want to cry.

By the time you've told Taehyung the nitty-gritty truth, the bottle of wine that had been in the fridge is finished, as well as your beer.

"I can't believe this," Taehyung says for what feels like the billionth time.

There's a certain shame that comes with Taehyung's confusion.

Embarrassment, like the way Jungkook would cringe at himself whenever he stumbled on his words, or the way you'd covered your reddening cheeks with your hands when he teased you for looking at him in the way you did.

Remorse of time wasted before him, and time wasted with him.

Regret of the things you did and the things he didn't.

It's all very confusing. Exhausting. If you were to really think about it, you'd spend a week in bed with a box of tissues. Would ask Taehyung why he didn't warn you that a heart could feel this horrid.

But he did, and you damn well know it.

Shrugging, you reach for the bottle and split the final few glugs between your glasses.

"We were just bored," you play it off. "Had nothing better to do. No one better to do."

But Taehyung shakes his head. "You don't have to do that, yanno. Pretend like it didn't matter. It's okay that it did. Even if he is a prick, and even if he's no better than the rest of them. It's okay that it hurts."

You're silent when he says this.

Despite your teasing, you never really thought Jungkook was much of a player.

But his friends are back now, and you've been relegated to the sidelines. Doesn't matter if he spent weeks—months—playing in no field but yours. Greener pastures have presumably sprouted. Your turf is wrecked from his carelessness, and he's left you to heal yourself while he goes and wrecks another.

Whoever he was pretending to be in the summer isn't who he is now that his friends are back—but when they're laughing and joking in the basement of the Conservatory that evening, Jungkook knows which version of himself he prefers.

"You need to get laid," Jimin tells Jungkook with a laugh. "Never seen a man look so bloody miserable at a party."

Of all the things Jungkook needs, getting laid is not one of them. In fact, he thinks it would be a very sensible idea if he never got laid again. Sex is messy. People get all emotional over it.

Or more so, he gets all emotional over it.

Had never been the type to, before. Always thought it was something that just happened to other people. Not to him.

He pushes the thoughts aside. Feels a little sick. Shrugs off Jimin's remark.

"If I wanted to get laid, I would get laid."

"So why don't you? Will do us all a favour. Claudia's been—"

"I couldn't give a fuck," Jungkook interrupts Jimin. "I'm not interested."

He never has been. Wants nothing to do with this university, and the men that run it, and so would never date one of their daughters.

They're all corrupt. Every last one of them. All cheat on their wives. All throw their families under the bus for their own selfish exploits. His own father's affair has proven this to him.

Jungkook pities his friends. Just because their parents haven't fucked up yet, doesn't mean they won't.

"Oi, Loverboy," Jackson calls from across the room, breaking the tension only to replace it with a headache for Jungkook. "Where's your little girlfriend? I told her to come."

"Who?" Jimin chirps.

Jungkook grates his jaw. Is deadly serious when he says, "Leave it, Jackson."

"Trouble in paradise for our lovebirds, huh?"

"I said leave it."

"Who the fuck is he talking about?" Jimin continues to ask, incredibly curious about this turn of events. Leave town for a couple of months, he thinks, and everything changes.

"No one."

"That one from the diner," Jackson just continues fuckin' talking. Jungkook wants to scream. "The one with a stick up her ass—"

"Jackson, cut it out," Jungkook snaps. "She's no one. Just fuckin' leave it."

"You ashamed, huh, Loverboy?" Jackson berates him a little bit. He isn't trying to be a dick, but he thinks Jungkook is acting like a tool. Jackson is no saint, but at least he doesn't ever pretend to be something he's not. "Poor girl. Wear her like your favourite pair of shoes all summer and then throw her to the trash when your friends come back? I thought better of you. So did she, probably. Shame."

Of all the people Jungkook ever expected to receive lessons in morality from, Jackson Wang was not the one. He parades himself around the Conservatory like Hugh Hefner reincarnated, his class attributed to money and not behaviours.

"The fuck have you been doing this summer, Kook?" Jimin laughs, utterly dumbfounded by his reactions.

They've all had their fair share of less than conventional lovers. If Jungkook has been fucking around with a girl from the Diner, then so what? Who cares?

"Nothing," Jungkook snaps.

It's not that he's ashamed. 

It's that you're separate.

When he's with you, all of this—the bullshit of college life and calamity of his family falling apart—dissolves into nothingness. He doesn't have to think. Finds himself at ease.

If you were to ever become a part of his life—his real one, not the one he got so used to living in with you over the summer—then it'd all change.

He doesn't want that.

He wants you to be a safe haven.

A refuge point can't be in the midst of a fire, though. He has to keep you away. At arms length.

But god damn, he wishes you would come and put out his fire. He's struggling. Finds existing without you so fucking hard. Doesn't know at which point he became so dependent, but knows his oxygen is running low.

He's suffocating. Isn't sure how much longer he can keep this up.

"Yeah, sure seems like nothing," Jimin smirks with a shake of his head as Jungkook storms off to get some much needed air. "Oi, Jackson, what was that all about?"

With a shrug, and yet another girl on his arm, Jackson grins. Puts on a pathetic little voice to mimic Jungkook's tantrum. "Fink baby boy has a wittle cwush."

"Girl from the diner?" Jimin implores, still smirking at Jackson's dumb humour. "Which one?"

"You really have to ask?"

For all of his mystery, Jungkook has never been a man of subtleties. His eyes give him away.

They always have done.

When he was looking at the menu board earlier that day? It was obvious.

Before college broke up for summer, and how Jungkook would always cast his eyes down to his hands whenever you, specifically, came to take their order? It was obvious.

How Jungkook would always make sure he was on the side of the booth that gave him ample opportunity to steal glances of you? It was so fucking obvious.

Sometimes he'd laugh at the slightly sarcastic remarks you gave Claudia whenever she would ask irritating questions about the menu.

When they were deciding where to eat, Jungkook would suggest the Montgomery's Diner, always.

So, no, Jimin doesn't really have to ask.

"Stupid prick," he sighs, sipping on his beer. Loves Jungkook to absolute death, but will never understand him. Figures that maybe you do. Worries that Jungkook is about to wreck it all. He calls after Jackson, "She here tonight?"

"Invited her," he calls back. "But she's got an attitude problem to rival his. Fuck knows if she's around. You'll feel her ice before you see her."

Which is funny, because the lingering summer heat sticks to your skin as you nervously meander up a driveway you know all too well.

The Conservatory is decidedly not a conservatory.

It's a complex. A maze of buildings, and greenhouses, and fuck knows what else. You've no interest in gardening, but if excelling at it meant living somewhere like this, maybe you'd consider taking it up as a hobby.

The buildings are mostly redbrick, with large windows, and even larger doors. It's the kind of place you'd imagine a Duke of some far away land prancing about in. Playing croquet, or secretly courting a lowly village girl that his parents will never approve of.

The irony isn't lost on you.

"Wait, how do I look?" Taehyung asks for what feels like the hundredth time. "Not too dressy?"

"You're wearing a waistcoat," you reply, face twisted in affectionate condemnation. He looks great, but he also does look far too dressy. It's his 'look', though, and one that'll get him attention, both good and bad.

If Kim Taehyung walked around with the arrogance his handsome face warranted him with, he'd be the heartthrob of the campus. You think even Claudia would want a slice of him—and given his distaste for the elite yet pining desire to be on their level, it'd be quite the complex pairing.

All of the other men here are in t-shirts, but Taehyung has never been like other men. It's part of the reason you like him so much.

One thing, however, you don't like about Taehyung is his domineering need to 'fix' things. It comes from a place of love, and he only ever does it because he cares, but it's not always in your best interest.

When he told you to go and get changed out of your work uniform, you thought he was planning on taking you to a bar. That you'd be drowning your sorrows over wine you can't afford.

You would never agree to go to the Conservatory. Not now.

Which is why he didn't tell you of his plan.

Instead, he ordered a cab and didn't give you the chance to protest. You were already halfway there by the time you realised.

"Why don't we just go home?" You whine, tugging on his arm as you stand by the gate that leads through the gardens—the same ones you used to traipse around in with Jungkook. "We don't need to be here."

"Uh-uh," he shakes his head, firmly standing his ground. "I've avoided this place for two years, and the second my back is turned it becomes your new home. The least you could do is invite me round for dinner."

"It's not my new home—"

"MONTGOMERY!"

The voice of Jackson Wang yelling across the front lawn makes you want to shrivel up and die. Sink down into the ground. You'd make great compost for the botanists.

"Y'know, you and Loverboy really need to stop lying so much," he says with an incredibly intoxicated grin as he lumbers towards you. You'll never admit it, but part of you is pleased to see him. "First you saying you weren't coming, then him telling everyone nothing happened between you. Both as bad as one another."

Nothing happened between you.

It doesn't surprise you, but it does sting. And it also confuses you. Why on earth would you be a topic of conversation? The people here know you as Montgomery. The girl from the diner. You're nothing but a background character to them.

"What did he say?" You ask, disregarding everything else, not even bothering to introduce Taehyung. He's finding all of this incredibly bewildering.

"Oh, Jimin was grilling him," Jackson waves his hands around, disregarding it. "Kept saying you were no one. Refused to admit that he'd practically tied his laces with yours for the whole summer. Don't you worry, though, Monte Carlo. I had your back. Set the record straight."

Jackson Wang having your back isn't something you ever expected to happen.

Jeon Jungkook's absolute denial of your clandestine affaire de cœur is, disappointingly, something you expected.

It doesn't mean that it comes without hurt. If anything, it's far more visceral, for you only have yourself to blame. These wounds are self-inflicted, even if they're carved with a knife Jungkook crafted out of silly affirmations he never should have made.

"Where is he?" You ask, cold in your tone.

Jackson shrugs. "Try the basement. S'where I last saw him."

As Jackson saunters off to find another poor partygoer to mildly offend, you're left with a bad taste in your mouth. You've been irritated since you saw Jungkook earlier that day.

How he can just show up at the diner and act like he doesn't even know you, let alone knows what it's like to wake up next to you, is beyond insulting.

"C'mon," Taehyung urges you along. "I need a drink, and you could use three."

Conversely, you think you need an entire bottle.

A bottle of what, you don't care. Just something strong. Anything other than the shitty, overpriced whisky Jungkook always insisted on drinking.

"Fine. But we're not going to the basement."

It's perplexing to walk the halls of the Conservatory without Jungkook; to pass by strangers who have no idea who you are, but who know and admire him as if he's some sort of Hollywood celebrity.

They don't know him like you do. Don't know what it feels like to have his hand around their throat, or his fingers gently intertwined with theirs. They've never heard him laugh like you have.

And yet when you're a few drinks deep, and on the verge of calling a cab to go home, you hear that laugh again and wonder how he can bear to be happy right now.

Glancing up, his face is unreadable. The lights are dim, and the shadows obscure the painful furrowing of his brows. He looks just the same as he did back in the diner earlier that day. Perplexed. In pain. Somehow perfectly fine, too.

The group he's in is small. Some of them you know, some of them you don't.

Claudia sits across from him on the lap of some other guy, yet she doesn't take her eyes off Jungkook. She laughs a little harder at his jokes. Directs questions to him. Flirts with other people in front of him to no avail. 

Not even now, after summer when her skin is sunkissed and her radiance is rejuvenated, can she keep his attention.

In fact, none of them can once he spots you from across the room. The big lights are off, fairy lights strung up, and a sunset lamp pours a clementine hue over you.

Summer becomes you, he thinks—adores—from afar.

The year is a body, and you're eternally condemned to its heart. That's where he'll keep you. Where you belong.

Had it been spring—the brain of the year—when he'd been hauled up in that diner, he never would have let things get as far as they did.

Had it been winter—the cunt of the year, for lack of a better term—he would have let it get that far, and he wouldn't have felt bad about it, either.

But Autumn is drawing close. The gut. The time to trust his intuition, and he damn well knows it.

A hand wraps itself around your wrist, dragging you away from his car crash eyes. Jungkook slips into the dull shadows of the room, right where he belongs. Was foolish of you to ever think otherwise.

"Do you mind?" you snap, but let yourself be dragged away regardless. Part of you hopes it'll make Jungkook do something. You're not sure what. Just something.

The man who is leading you astray is familiar. Recognisable. Park Jimin.

Though he's not aggressive, he definitely isn't gentle as he leads you out to the gardens. Lets go of your wrist by an overgrown shrub just beyond the benches that are made for drunken DMC's. He isn't after one of them. Wants the facts.

"Cut the bullshit," he says.

"No hello?" You chirp. "Nice to see you? Or better yet, an introduction?"

"You know who I am," Jimin tells you, expression flat. You hate that the arrogant fucker is right. "But I know fuck all about you, and apparently you're the reason Jungkook is walking around like death warmed up. So cut the bull. What happened?"

Frankly it's none of Jimin's business. Even if he's done you wrong, Jungkook trusted you. You're not gonna throw that back in his face and air his dirty laundry—especially not considering that Jimin is Jungkook's friend. If Jungkook wanted him to know, he'd have told him.

"Nothing," you tell him. "Barely even know him."

Jimin sighs. Jackson was right. There's a reason why you and Jungkook got along so well. Are both insufferable.

Glancing behind you, Jimin raises his brows.

You turn to face his line of vision, and fail to hide your surprise when you see Jungkook by the back door. Like a deer in headlights, he's frozen in place, his darling bambi eyes so startled he almost looks scared.

"So if you barely know him," Jimin continues as you and Jungkook stare one another out. "Why the fuck is he looking at you like he's seen a ghost?"

It takes a second or so, but you manage to pull your gaze away. Turn back to face Jimin. Shrug. Play dumb.

"Mistaken identity."

"Oh, I get it," Jimin smirks, knowing you aren't gonna give him an easy way out. Needs to bamboozle answers out of you. "You both went to the same bullshitting classes over summer? Is that it?"

You're surprised to find yourself smiling. Surprised that you find humour in Jimin's words. Surprised that you aren't rolling your eyes.

He's always been the Untouchable that has annoyed you the most. Is too loud. Laughs at the most obnoxious things.

"Top of the class," you reply because it somehow feels okay to joke with him. Perhaps spending so much time with Jungkook has lowered you Park Jimin-related intolerance. Not cured it, by any means, but definitely made it easier to manage.

"Academic rivals," Jimin supposes, realising that maybe there's a little more to you than he's ever given you credit for. "That's pretty hot."

"He seemed to think so," you lament, knowing that you're revealing a far more truthful rendition of your time spent with Jungkook. Or at least, admitting that time was spent together.

With a sigh, you walk a little further into the garden. Cross your arms. Look back over your shoulder to the door, only to find Jungkook is gone. It shouldn't upset you like it does, but you find your lips pressing together in a small pout.

"Look," Jimin says, exhaling a breath so deep you're sure his lungs must be empty. He comes to stand beside you, looking across the vast expanse of the gardens. "I'm not asking for your life story. If you don't give a shit about Kook, then that's fine, I'll leave you alone. But he's my best friend, and I've never seen him like this."

Glancing at Jimin, there's a taut discomfort on your face. Guilt, almost—but you've not done anything wrong. It's on him. He's the one who chose for things to be this way.

"I give a shit," you quietly admit as you look back out towards the garden, then sigh out a pitiful laugh. "You know him. You know what he's like. Of course I give a shit."

Quite honestly you think it's impossible to not fall for Jungkook. He's everything you're hardwired to appreciate: hardworking, charming, incredibly funny. You lost count of how many nights dissolved into laughter with him. Had never known your cheeks to hurt so much.

He was gentle, too. Stroked his thumbs against your cheeks just as often as he made them ache.

It's your heart that's aching now, and he's not around to soothe your woes.

Back inside, Jungkook feels so viscerally unwell that he thinks he might be sick. Or maybe he's actually dying. One of the two.

This is everything he didn't want. You were supposed to be separate. Supposed to be a sanctuary away from this all.

You're in the thick of it, now. Jimin is grilling you, and Jungkook doesn't know what to do. It's too much. All of it. The party, the people, the fact that you look at him with ice in your eyes when he knows damn well they used to harbour the warmest of fires.

Beelining for the basement, he kind of hopes the ground will swallow him up. Stop him from making the bad decisions he seems to find so god damn irresistible.

As he yanks open the small fridge at the back of the basement, Jungkook doesn't care what he drinks. Just needs something to help soothe his fragile mine; to make him feel better, 'cause lord knows you won't.

Reaching for a beer, he doesn't ask around to see if it belongs to anyone. Finders keepers. He's an Untouchable. This place is basically his by birthright. No one is gonna argue against him.

But Kim Taehyung isn't just anyone.

"So, when you apologise for being a gargantuan pillock, are you planning on also trying to win her over? Or will you just clean your conscience and wipe yourself clean of her, too?"

Jungkook's jaw tenses as his teeth grit together. "Don't know what you're on about."

"Had a girl in tears at my dinner table earlier tonight," Taehyung exaggerates. Just wants Jungkook to feel as awful as he knows you do. "Your friends might not give a shit about your well-being, but I give a shit about mine."

And for some reason, this irks Jungkook. He gives a shit about you. Cares so much he's been torturing himself by staying away. Thinks it's better for you both.

If it truly was, neither of you would be feeling so gut-wrenchingly awful.

He knows you're angry. You've made that perfectly clear.

But he also knows you do cry when you're frustrated. Was a lesson learned when you were stressed over the diner roof leaking one night during the monsoons when no one else was in to help you fix it.

It was the first night he offered you a lift home. Had taken pity on you. Had also liaised with the college maintenance guy to check it out the next day, even if the diner wasn't technically part of campus.

Because Jungkook does give a shit about your well-being, and he refutes the claim that he doesn't.

"So what? You here to tell me to stay away?" Jungkook scoffs as he prizes off the cap of the bottle. Swigs down a sip. Then another, 'cause he's not wankered enough for this.

"I'm here to tell you that you're an asshole," Taehyung asserts. "She didn't deserve to be used by you for the summer and then tossed to the trash just because semesters starting up again."

The roll of Jungkook's eyes is so weighted that it almost feels as if they'll get lodged in the back of his skull. The last time they'd rolled that deep was in bed with you. Back then it was because his body was so divinely out of sync that his muscles couldn't keep up with his actions. This time, pleasure is the furthest thing away from how he's feeling.

"You want me nowhere near her, but the fact I'm staying away makes me an asshole?" Jungkook petulantly laughs. "Can't ever fuckin' win, can I?"

"This isn't about winning or losing," Taehyung argues back. "She trusted you."

Jungkook doesn't understand what that has to do with anything. He's not betrayed your trust. Has kept all your secrets. Tried his best to keep you secret, too.

"What was she to you, huh? Some project? A virginity to get under your belt? Something to pass the time—"

"I don't know who you think I am," Jungkook snaps, fed up being accused of something he's not. "But not once did I ever treat her badly, okay? I—" He cuts himself off. Doesn't know how to articulate himself. "We— Look, you just don't get it. You don't know me. I was nothing but fuckin' nice. Okay? And she was nice. And it was nice. And we..." He trails off. Realises what Taehyung said. "The fuck do you mean, 'virginity to get under your belt'?"

It's about now that Taehyung realises he's said too much.

But every cloud has a silver lining.

"Talk to her," Taehyung shrugs as he begins to walk away. "Not me."

He leaves a scowling Jungkook by the fridge. Heads to the stairs, and once he reaches the top, is yanked away by a small but mighty force.

"You," Jimin asserts. "With me. Now."

The sound of three knocks on the bathroom door serve as a signal: let me in.

A panicked text from Taehyung had practically begged you to go to the basement bathroom and wait for him there. Said there was drama that he needed to talk with you about.

And you believed him, 'cause you're a few too many drinks deep and honestly could do with the respite.

Perched up on the countertop by the sink, you reach over and unhook the latch, giving Taehyung the all clear to come on in. Your legs languidly swing and your shoulders are slumped, this party well and truly over for you.

The only reason you're still here is because you know Taehyung's secretly been revelling in his first Conservatory party. You fear he'll want to come every weekend, now.

"You better not have your cock out," a playful voice you know all too well jokes, as the door pushes open. Eyes closed as he enters, he shuts the door behind him. Asks, "Am I safe to open my eyes?"

You're gonna kill Taehyung. 

In the most loving but brutal way, you will absolutelymurder him for setting you up like this.

"Safe," you grimace.

Jungkook doesn't open his eyes. In fact, he presses them even tighter together. Frowns. "Jimin isn't in here, is he?"

"We've been bamboozled," you sigh, and as much as he doesn't want to, Jungkook smiles at your choice of words. Tips his head down, and open his eyes. Is a little too scared to look your way, for fear of being greeted with wrath.

"Their days are numbered," Jungkook assures you, quickly glancing across to try and work out how you're feeling.

"My sentiments exactly."

Jungkook goes to speak, but you both notice a grating metallic noise by the door. Immediately, Jungkook presses his hand down on the door handle, but there's absolutely no give. It won't budge

"Jimin," he calls, voice strong and domineering through the wooden panels. Hastily painted white, they're chipped and tarnished; covered in numbers and Instagram handles, rumours and declarations of love. It's not your first time locked in this bathroom with Jungkook, but the last was of your own choice. Had been you turning the lock with a smile and glint in your eyes that had promised him trouble. "Open it up."

"No can do," Jimins smugly sings from beyond the door. "Sort your shit out."

Hopping off the counter, you nudge in front of Jungkook to pound against the door with an open fist. Though he steps back, it's still the closest you've been with him since he left your bedroom a couple weeks ago. Part of you laments the fact he moved away from you. Part of him does, too.

"Tae," you try calling instead, hand banging on the door, but you're met with the exact same response.

"Figure it out," he calls back, but also adds, "And if he's still an insufferable asshole in five minutes time, I'll come let you out."

Despite everything, you laugh at this. Not so much because of Taehyung's words, but because Jungkook's face screws up like an old newspaper.

"What is it with him and calling me an asshole?" Jungkook mutters under his breath with a shake of his head.

The bathroom is small—just a toilet and sink built into a cabinet. There's a mirror covering the back wall over it, and another cabinet above it that you assume is filled with empty bottles and misplaced lipglosses. There's barely even enough room to breathe, although there is enough room to make Jeon Jungkook come undone in the least dignified of ways. You should know.

You wish you didn't.

"He calls you one because you are one," you assure him.

"Excuse me?" 

"What?" You scoff, hopping back up on the counter, your eyes on his 'cause you want to watch the way he gets nasty. Wanna remind yourself of how horrible he can be. Replace the memories of him in this bathroom, 'cause in all reality, they're actually really lovely. Nice, even. Warm. Everything you're trying to convince yourself he's not. "Gone deaf as well as turned into a massive prick?"

"Jesus Christ," he says, rolling his eyes, turning back to face the door. Shakes at the handle. "Give it a rest."

"Why?" You ask as if butter wouldn't melt on your tongue. "Would it make life easier for you if I just wasn't around?"

Jungkook knows what you're doing. Has bickered with you enough times to understand your tricks. This is how you start; put words in his mouth that he can't defend against.

And so he doesn't try.

"Yep," he declares, turning to face you. "Way easier. Can you tell your friend I'm an asshole, still? Get us out of this place?"

You recline in defiance. Perched up on the counter next to the basin, your back is against a mirror. Legs crossed, you're in the same white summer dress you wore to your first party at the Conservatory.

Nearly everyone had been away for the summer.

You had spent the evening tucked up together on an armchair meant for one, him in the seat, you perched on the armrest, feet in his lap.

"People will talk, y'know," you'd assured him, elbows on your knees, chin in your palms.

"So let them talk," he'd smirked. "What's there to say? We're just sitting?"

It was strange for him to be seen with you. Even Jackson has been confused, but let it slide 'cause another partygoer is another partygoer. He cared for numbers, not names.

"Dunno," you had teased. "Might start talking about the way you look at me."

"Yeah?" He'd husked as his long fingers wrapped around your wrist. Gently pulled you closer.

"Yeah," you'd whispered, the sound of the music keeping your conversation obscure. "How long has it been that you've been looking at me for? A minute, already? Only one more until you fall in love, according to science."

"You tryna make me fall in love with you, Montgomery?"

"No," you'd innocently chirped, then pulled back. "Why? Were you?"

He'd shrugged. Sipped on his beer. "Guess we'll never know."

Looking at him now, you find it hard to believe he's the same person as he was back then.

"Why would I do that?" You feign naivety. "You're not an asshole?"

He doesn't reply. Knows you're going somewhere with this. Leans his back against the wall opposite you and folds his arms as if to say, go on.

"Assholes fuck people over," you state. "You'd never do that. And you'd definitely never spend your summer in some poor girls sheets and then pretend like she doesn't exist in front of your friends—"

"There is it," he confirms. Knew it was coming. Didn't expect you to actually try and speak about things like adults. So fuckin' childish.

"Oh?" You chirp. "So you're well aware of the fact you're an asshole? Good. Glad we have that one sorted out."

"Yep," he confirms, mouth drawing to a thin line.

The fact he isn't engaging in the fight infuriates you. Just proves he doesn't care. That he fucked you over for sport.

"I'm an asshole," he says, voice full of snark. "You know it, I know it. There's no reason why you should want to be around me. No reason why you should waste your time."

"It's so funny," you gasp in fake surprise. "I was thinking the exact same thing! Isn't it so great that you came to this conclusion after you already wasted months of my life?"

He's silent, now. Cowardly.

"Y'know I always knew you were an obnoxious prick," you say, voice now soberly quiet. "But I didn't think you were this cruel, Kook."

"You know that's not—"

"What?" You interrupt, voice growing louder with each question. "Not true? You woke up in my bed one morning, and then never spoke to me again. Who does that? What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"I don't know!" He shouts, and it surprises you both.

Raking his hand through his hair as he turns away from you, Jungkook wishes he had an answer. Wishes he could explain himself in a way that made sense to you both. Instead, he harshly swallows down his anger. Turns to face you again. Looks like he might cry.

Feels like it, too. 

"Why didn't you tell me, huh?" He quietly asks.

"Tell you wha—"

"That you were a virgin."

Your previous thoughts about murdering Taehyung return. Of all the things he could have divulged to Jungkook, and that's what he chose?!

Men, you internally scoff. All fuckin' idiots.

"Hardly relevant, is it?"

"Of course it is," he snaps, turning back to face you. "If I'd have known—"

"You'd have what? Ghosted me sooner? Made it into a fun little competition?"

"I didn't ghost you."

"Gaslighting, too, now are we?" You scoff. "Hold on, let me go and get my bingo card. Things Jungkook does that are absolutely fucking infuriating. Wanna cross it off the list. It's right next to how fast you drive your car, and how much I hate your stupid fucking alarm tone."

"Well good job you never have to hear it again, isn't it?"

"Why not? 'Cause you are ghosting me?"

"No, because this is fuckin' stupid," he says, yanking on the door handle, on the off chance it will finally budge. It doesn't. "You think I'm the devil reincarnated. You don't want me, so why bother with this? This is done. Us. Whatever the fuck it was. You never trusted me in the first place. Would have told me if you did. So just call your friend, tell him I'm an asshole. We're done."

"Oh, well you're two weeks too late for this conversation, don't you think?" you argue back with a cold laugh. "But has it ever occurred to you that my life doesn't revolve around you? That you aren't the reason I'm here? Jackson invited me."

"Ah, so that's what it is?" Jungkook sarcastically exclaims, your insatiable need to fight finally sinking into his skin. "You were just using me, huh? Getting those V-plates off, so you could be ready for him? Is that why you didn't tell me? Huh?"

The mere thought of hooking up with the college's very own Hugh Hefner makes you wanna gag—but if it'll piss off Jungkook, maybe you'll consider it.

"Why would you care if I let him fuck me?" You ask with such pointed anger Jungkook can't help but feel like you're driving knives into his chest. "Do that thing you like with my tongue? You think he'd like my pussy, huh? Maybe I'd let him fuck me raw."

You never let Jungkook go unprotected. Insisted on it each and every time, and he complied even if he was a little pouty about it after you'd been fucking for a while. The trust was there. You were on the pill. He knew he was clean and had told you as such, but it made no difference.

To even suggest you'd let Jackson fuck you raw is laughable.

With a smirk on his lips, Jungkook edges towards you.

Put his hands on your crossed knees. Waits for you to jerk him away—but you don't. Instead, you watch on with salacious confusion. Say nothing. Not even when he uncrosses them, nor when he spreads them apart.

With a hand either side of your head against the mirror, Jungkook stands between your legs.

Looks down at you.

Is so close you can smell his aftershave.

A month ago, in a position like this, you'd have kissed him.

"Hm?" You cock your head. Repeat your question. "You think he'd like my pussy? How long do you think he'd take to cum? Longer than you, I hope."

Jaw tense, Jungkook swallows down the way he wants to curse you out. Closes his eyes. Lets his head dip further, his forehead now resting against the top of your head.

The contact is minimal, but God, you've missed it. Trapped in position by him, you'd forgotten how lovely it was to lose yourself to Jungkook.

"You're not being fair," he whispers. Whines, even.

"Fair?" You laugh, but it's gentle. Matches his tone. "You can hardly take the high ground on fairness, Jungkook."

He nods. Takes a second, and then pathetically begs: "Don't fuck him. Please."

"Why shouldn't I?"

"You know why," he says. Stands straighter, now. Rakes a hand through his hair. Looks down on you with such pained desperation you almost feel bad. He tries to speak, but struggles with his words again. Takes him a few attempts to get anything out. "I didn't like you because I was fucking you. I fucked you because I liked you. You know that. You know it wasn't...Fuck. You know what it was."

The past tense he speaks in cuts you up inside.

Jungkook shrugs in defeat when he's met with silence. Purses his lips. Eyes on yours, they're glassy. Watery, almost.

Yours are just as bad, because what the fuck are you supposed to say to that? He's the one that cut you out. He did this.

"What did I do?" You ask, voice meagre and pathetic. Your vulnerability is mortifying, and yet you just can't help yourself as a tear streaks down your cheek. "What the fuck did I do that was so wrong, Kook?"

The heat of his hand scalds your skin as his thumb wipes away your tears. After his cold shoulder for the past two weeks, your body doesn't know how to respond. Should you be angry? Hurt? Comforted?

All you know is that you're more confused now than you ever were when you first started hooking up with him.

"Nothing," he quietly promises. Holds your cheeks in his hands. Rests his nose beside yours. Is far too close for a man who's been trying to stay away from you. Is beginning to realise that maybe his self-preservation was thinly veiled self-sabotage instead. "I thought I was doing the right thing, but it's been so fuckin' miserable, and then I didn't know how to fix things, and then it was all such a mess and—"

The words Jungkook is yet to speak are lost in the soft press of your lips against his.

Brows furrowed, Jungkook's grip on your face tightens. Keeps you close, 'cause he feels the pressure of your lips waning but doesn't want you to pull away.

And so you don't. Instead you apply more pressure. Harder. Deeper.

It's not like kissing Jungkook is a new experience. You've done it upwards of a thousand times, now. You know his lips and his tongue, and how it likes to flick against yours; his piercings, and the frequency of his moans that vibrate into your mouth.

Kissing Jungkook is just as easy as it is hard. Easy, in the way he takes not a single considered thought. Hard, in how it becomes your only tangible thought for minutes, hours, days afterwards.

An eternity and a millisecond is lost in the kiss, just like the summer that lasted an age and yet was gone with the wind.

When your lips finally part, there's silence. Forehead resting on yours, Jungkook shakes his head ever so gently. Doesn't know how to articulate his thoughts. How to say sorry, or how to fix his mess.

While his logic was flawed, and his execution careless, his intentions had been good. As much as he had a life to go back to, and friends that wouldn't get it, so did you.

He knows they hate him—isn't ignorant to the roll of Maria's eyes every time they walk into Montgomery's, and has experienced Taehyung's disdain first-hand this evening.

He'd spent his summer getting out of the house to avoid the fall-out of his father's infidelity. Knows how much his family is suffering all because of a man who just couldn't control himself. Was trying to be better. Trying not to wreck both of your lives.

As he stands in the dingy bathroom of a party house, the lingering burn of your lips on his still smouldering, he knows that he wrecked you both regardless.

And so it's up to him to put you back together again.

"I'm sorry," you say as you break the kiss, mortified at how stupid of an impulse it had been. You don't that. Not anymore. A month ago, sure, kissing Jungkook in a dingy bathroom at a party house would have been exciting. Now, it just feels embarrassing. "I shouldn't have—"

His lips are on yours again, stealing your words from you. He doesn't want to hear you apologise. Knows that you don't need to.  Also knows that he does need to.

"Don't," he quickly says between kisses. "Please, don't say sorry."

"But I—"

"Shut up," he smiles against your lips, shaking his head ever so slightly. He kisses you again, and this time it's soft. Pretty. Poetic, almost in how it makes you feel. And then he speaks, and you're reminded of just how easy it is to adore him, even when you know you shouldn't. "You know how much I've missed this? God, I've missed you so much. Please don't say sorry. I'm sorry. It's on me. I made a mistake, alright? I fucked up." 

He pulls back. Has your cheeks in his hands as he makes sure your eyes are on his. They're dark, now, in the dim light of the bathroom you're in, but they've never been warmer.

"I mean it. I'm so fucking sorry," he whispers. Brows furrowed, lips pouty, he's got the kind of face you're hardwired to trust. To adore. Or maybe, it's just him, in general, that you're inclined to feel this way about. "Okay?"

His large hard hands are still holding your cheeks, as yours wrap around his wrists. With a shake of your head, you shrug. Pout, too.

An apology is appreciated, but it's just words. It's his actions that have been upsetting you. Not his words (or lack thereof).

"We're gonna leave this bathroom and you're gonna pretend like I don't exist again," you tell him.

The frown on his face deepens. "That's not true. And that's not what I was trying to do in the first place, either. I just thought—"

"What? That it was a good idea to kiss me on my doorstep and promise you'd pick me up from work, only to never show? To ignore my texts? To—"

"No," he quietly admits, dropping his head between his shoulders. "I made the wrong calls—but I can make it up to you. I want to make it up to you." He rests his forehead against yours. Quietly begs, "Please."

Slowly, Jungkook nudges his nose up against yours. Waits for permission.

Beyond the door, loud music thuds through the room. It obscures the conversation you've been having, keeping you just as secret as you always have been.

It's not like you told any of your friends, either, and when it came to telling Taehyung, you weren't exactly forthcoming. Perhaps you would have been the one to pretend like he didn't exist, had he not done it first.

"I want you," he husks against your lips. 

"You wanna fuck me," you correct him, lips tantalisingly brushing his with every word.

"True," he admits. "But I also wanna send you dumb memes again, and go for drives after work, and wake up in your bed. I wanna go for breakfast, and I still need to cook you my world-famous makguksu. I want to have not been a dick for the past two weeks, but I can't change that. I just wanna be what I once was to you again."

"And what was that?" You encourage.

There was never any label. Realistically, there's no right answer. 

Or at least there isn't, until Jungkook just simply says, "Yours."

And what else can you do when confronted by such a pathetic, yearnful admittance from him, except to give into how you're feeling, too?

Frantic in the way your hands are on his body—his arms, his waist, around his throat—there's a neediness to you. One he's missed. One he reciprocates, as his large palms stroke up your spread thighs, then get your legs wrapped around his hips.

The movements of your bodies are so well nurtured by now that you know what comes next; how the bulge in his trousers will press against your covered pussy, and how you'll whine at the contact no matter how minimal.

"Fuck," you whine as his hands slip under the skirt of your dress. It's an old routine at this point. He knows exactly where to go, what to do. His fingers press against the wet fabric of your underwear, just gently enough to make you moan a little harder into his mouth.

"Oh?" He smirks when he realises just how needy you are, his fingers stroking against your slick panties. "Missed me, too?"

"You're an asshole," you tell him with a smile. As his fingers get firmer, you can't help but whine. "You know I have."

He pulls back to look down at your body. Pushes the fabric of your dress out of the way. Curses when he realises the underwear you're wearing. Is his favourite pair. Red and lacy, there's a suspender belt to match it. While you're not wearing it right now, he's got pictures of you in it that belong in a fuckin' museum.

"Did you wanna fuck me tonight, huh?" He mumbles into your lips.

"Not everything is about you," you say with a smile, wrapping your arms around his neck.

Except it is. They're your favourite pair too, simply for how insanely he reacted to seeing you in them. Sure you're not in the full set up, but it was enough to have you feeling ever so confident as you left the house with Taehyung.

As his lips press against yours, his finger hooks beneath your underwear. Tugs them to the side. Gets you exposed for him.

"No?" He husks, as his fingers begin to sink between your soaked folds. "So this isn't about me, huh?"

You shake your head. Lie. "Never been less turned on."

He plays into your little theatrics. Has always enjoyed them.

"So you don't want me to do this?" He asks as his middle finger sinks into your entrance.

"Can't even feel it," you pretend, as if his thick knuckles aren't stroking against you in just the right way.

"No?" He grits. Sinks a second finger inside you. Gets you whining again, nails gripping onto his arms. His fingers slowly pump into you, easing you into the way it feels for him to be inside you.

There's something electric about Jungkook. Sends shivers through your spine. Always knew exactly how to manipulate your pussy into doing whatever he wanted, and now is no different. As you clench around him, he's overcome with satisfaction.

"This is just my fingers," he reminds you. "I don't think you can handle my cock."

Scoffing, you're desperately trying to pretend you aren't melting for him. "Please, I can handle it just fine."

"Sure you can, baby," he teases with so much arrogance you kinda wanna fight him again—but it's also why you like him. He challenges you. Gets your brain in overdrive.

And when he crouches in front of the counter, eyes aligned with your exposed cunt, you think you might actually lose it entirely.

His hands are on your thighs, spreading you further, getting a good look at the mess between your legs. When he sighs, the shallow breath that escapes his lips feels like absolute sin against your wetness.

"Oh, you really haven't been fucked since me, have you?" He teases again. "Look at how fucking keen you are. Been missing my cock, huh?"

"My vibrator's been doing the job just fine," you assure him, but it has him pulling back to cock a brow in your direction. He knows many things about you that other people don't, but he was not aware you owned any sex toys. Finds that his cock only throbs even harder in his pants at this revelation.

"Maybe so," he husks, leaning closer just so he drags his flat tongue up your folds. Has to stop himself from moaning, 'cause the taste of you is somehow even better than his memories. "But it's not better than me."

With a point to prove, and a desperation to reclaim you as his own, Jungkook doesn't entertain chitchat any longer. He dives back in, tongue lapping against your lips as his fingers push back inside you. The way he curls them just right as his tongue flicks against your clit is enough to make anyone lose their head.

Hands tangling in his hair, you find your body responding to him in the way it always does; pathetically, needily, hungrily. There's no dignity to be found.

His tongue works against you like a well trained craft, until his lips latch around your swollen bud and begin to lightly suck on it. When he hums in satisfaction—which he does often—the suction only grows stronger.

Gets you whimpering, "Like that. Fuck. Like that."

The build is just as undignified as you are. Your grip on his hair gets tighter, and the shake of your legs grows stronger. Dragging his tongue up and down your folds, he settles back on your clit. Flicks his pointed tongue against you until he knows you can't take it any longer and begins to suck again. Curves his fingers just right. Strokes you so gently that orgasm pours out of you like liquid gold. Guilds him into the most gorgeous aureate glow.

He doesn't ease. Keeps his lips wrapped around your clit. Makes sure you're spent.

When he finally releases you, he's breathing just as heavily as you are. Gets to his feet, fingers still plugged in your tight pussy. Is pleased to find you're just as insatiable as he is, pulling him in for the messiest of kisses as soon as you can. There's no care given for the fact he's covered in your arousal. You just want that tongue of his in your mouth—and when it is, you find yourself moaning from the withdrawal of his fingers.

Your hands reach to the waistband of his jeans to unhook his button. Get his zipper down. Your hands down the front of his trousers, when his thick cock is restricted by his tight boxer briefs. By the tip of his cock, a small wet patch resides; his desperation for you obvious. Gently rubbing your thumb across the pre-cum, all you can think about is his slit, and how you wanna kitten lick across it.

But it's been two weeks of near-constant pining, and all Jungkook wants is to bury himself inside you.

"Let me fuck you," he begs. "Please, baby."

If the girl who had first seen Jungkook in a shared lecture hall two years ago would have known she'd end up in a shitty bathroom with him begging for her, she'd have laughed. Wouldn't have believed it for a second.

Fresh-faced and so out of your comfort zone, the first few days at university were full of potential. It was before you had wised up to your place in the pecking order; when Jungkook was just a boy in your orientation class.

Skin kissed by European sun, there had been a radiance to him that seemed to captivate just about everyone. You weren't the only girl who had been sneaking glances his way.

You'd thought about him a lot in those first few weeks. Came to learn of his family ties around the same time you befriended Taehyung. Stopped seeing him around campus so much, and rarely ever thought of him.

But on those rare occasions you crossed paths, your gaze would always linger.

As he frees himself of his boxers, trousers suspended midway down his thighs, he gently rubs the tip of his cock between your folds and husks, "Always thought you were so pretty, y'know?"

Looking up at you for just a second, he smirks. Looks back down. Continues to rub himself against you, prepping himself with your slickness.

"Freshers week," he continues. "You never came to any of the parties."

The tip of his cock kisses your entrance, but doesn't penetrate. You stay in limbo just shy of what you both want.

"Had a stupid fuckin' crush on you," he admits. Has never acknowledged it before, but has always known. Kept it hidden. Safe. Secret.

"No, you didn't," you smile. He didn't even give you a second glance. Was always you seeking him out in lecture halls.

"I did," he says with absolute certainty. "You wore that little black sundress on our first day. Had ruffles on the shoulders."

It hangs in your wardrobe, a little out of style but still sweet in the right setting. You know the exact one he's talking about, because he's right. You did wear it on that very first day.

His cock nudges a little deeper. Enough to make you gasp, but not moan. Not yet. Gripping his arms, brows furrowed, you nod. He sinks himself just a little bit further. The feeling is overwhelming; fire on ice.

"Would have fucked you in that lecture hall, if you'd have let me," he smirks.

"You didn't even know my name," you counter, but he cuts your questioning off as he edges a little deeper, still. His hand dips to gently rub languid circles on your clit. He's not pushing himself any further, not yet. Wants to ease into how this feels.

"I did," he admits. "Listened extra hard during the roll call."

"So this has all been some big elaborate scheme to get into my pants, huh?"

"Is it working?" he jokes, leaning over to yank the cabinet above the sink open. A few random bottles and packets clatter into the sink, but he doesn't care.

He's looking on the top shelf, rifling through old boxes, sending more miscellaneous objects to their untimely demise. Spotting what he's after, he's assertive as he knocks the cabinet shut. Passes you the box.

"S'all there is. They alright?"

"Sure," you say, pulling one of the foil packets from the box. You check the date stamped on the front—only to see it's a year out of date. Some protection would be better than none, regardless of the date, but fuck it. You're on the pill. "You haven't fucked anyone else? In the last couple weeks?"

"What?" His brows contort in confusion. "No."

His expression softens, but is still laced with confusion when you toss the box of condoms down into the sink.

"I don't care. I don't want them—"

You're cut off by the way Jungkook clasps your jaw, keeping your eyes locked on his. There's a seriousness to him now; the same demeanour he holds himself with when he was taking photographs. He's intentional. Assertive.

"Promise me," he says with stern certainty. "You want this?"

When he's got you like this—legs spread, body his to claim, your soul to take—it's impossible to do anything but comply. See, things with Jungkook are reciprocal. Your feelings, your tortured misunderstanding of how a relationship could ever work, and his seriousness, now, too.

"I promise," you swear.

As a chaste kiss is pressed to your lips, his hands stroke down your spread thighs, pushing you a little further open for him.

"Can't unfuck me," he softly reminds you. Is taking his time not for the anticipation, but because he's scared. "If you fuck me raw—"

"Then I fuck you raw," you simply repeat, knowing that it's up to you to ease his woes. If anyone should be scared, it's you—yet there's a safety that comes with being with Jungkook. Smirk, then say, "Trust me. I know I can't unfuck you. I've been trying to forget—"

"Ouch," he laughs, nudging his nose up against yours.

"—but you're just..." you tailed off, not wanting to compliment him too highly. He's still in the dog house. "Memorable."

With a sardonic smile that he knows only means trouble, you reach down to grip his incredibly pert ass cheeks. Squeezing, just because you can, you encourage him to push even deeper into you—and he's the one who whines, now.

"God, you're so fuckin' tight," he praises with such pained desperation it almost sounds like he'll cry. He won't. It's just that he can't quite believe that he's raw inside you right now, and that you feel just as good as he always imagined. Better, even.

"Yeah?" You question, as you pull his hips closer, gasping as he finally sinks his full length into you once more. His fingers were thick, but they've got nothing on his cock. Like he's taken all the air from your lungs, your voice is all light and airy. Makes Jungkook even more insane.

"Yeah," he mumbles as he nods into a kiss that is just as feverant as his need to pulse his hips. He doesn't dare do it yet. Is waiting for you. "Feels so fuckin' good."

"So just fuck me," you hungrily moan into his lips.

You're challenging him deliberately, and it works a fucking treat when he pulls back with a grin. He doesn't withdraw himself, but he does pulse his hips ever so slightly. Keeps you plugged. Is just nudging even deeper into you as he keeps a hold on your thighs, keeping them spread nice and wide.

"Say please," he grunts as his pulsing becomes a singular deep thrust.

Your argumentative streak wants to fight.

You'll berate yourself later for the way you whimper, "Please."

His thick cock withdraws just a little to push back into you. He groans. Curses. Builds momentum. Speed.

The sound of his skin slapping against yours as he pounds himself into you is impossible to ignore. Your moans build. Double. Treble. He's grunting too, and then his lips are on your neck. It's a mess, quite frankly.

In the sordid shadows of this bathroom, your bodies become acquainted with an intimacy not yet bridged before. You can pretend to ignore each other in the hallways of your shared lecture buildings, but you'll never be able to ignore the desperation you have for one another. Jungkook was right. You can't unfuck him. And now he's fucking you raw, it only make it even more potent.

Harshly pulling himself out of you, Jungkook almost fuckin' cums on the spot when he realises how soaked he is from your arousal. It's not like it's a new thing, but skin on skin, it's so much more intense. Gasping from the sudden loss of pressure, you're a little unsteady. Lurch forward as if your body could stop him from withdrawing.

Holding the base of his thick shaft, Jungkook spanks against your pussy with his cock. Rubs your slick wetness around with his tip. Hooks his elbows under your thighs. Pulls you closer. Instructs, "Arms around my neck."

Wrapping an arm around your back, the other one tucks under your ass as he lifts you.

He turns. Presses your back to the wall, and lines himself up.

"Legs around me," he tells you, and as soon as you do, his cock pushes up into you again. He keeps you pinned against the wall as he begins to fuck himself into you, his lips pressing wet kisses to the curve of your neck.

The sight in the mirror behind him is lethal; his broad back covered by his shirt, but it doesn't matter. You know what he looks like. Know his muscles, and the valley of his spine, like the back of your own damn hand.

You wanna see it though. Give it a tug. Send him the right message. Get him tearing his shirt off and dropping it to the floor for you. Victory is so damn sweet.

"Kook," you whine as he really begins to get deep. "You're gonna make me cum."

"All over my cock, huh?" He grunts. "Gonna cum on cock, are you?"

His taunting only makes you whimper even more. "I'm so close."

And because he just likes to get you all whiney and needy, Jungkook stops. Puts you down. Gets you facing the mirror as you protest his unfair stealing of an orgasm.

But then he's lining himself up again, getting ready to take you from behind. Spanks your ass ever so quickly.

Sinking into you again, Jungkook curses. "Tighter like this."

"Good?" You pathetically check, and Jungkook can't help but think it's sweet.

"Yeah, babe," he promises, and pretends as if it's completely usual for him to speak to you so tenderly. "Feels so fuckin' good. Missed you so much, gorgeous. You and this tight cunt."

"Romance," you joke through your needy whines. He smirks at this, and delivers a curt little spank to your ass.

"I can be romantic," he assures you, as if you aren't being soundtracked by the sound of your skin slapping together, his thick cock fucking itself into your soaked hole. 

His eyes rise from the steady gaze he'd had on your ass to your eyes. 

Slowing himself, Jungkook holds his cock inside you without thrusting. Says, "I made that photo you took of us in your room my fuckin' phone wallpaper. I listen to that asmr guy you like before bed, every single fuckin' night. I keep one of your ribbons tied around my gearstick. That romantic enough for you?"

There's an incredibly bashful smile on your pretty face, which contradicts the way in which your pussy is tightening around him in the most lewd of ways. You're giggling when you say, "Shut up and fuck me."

But then he's giggling too, just how you like him to be. Says, "I missed your body, but I missed you more. Stupid."

"You're stupid."

"You're stupider."

"Kook," you laugh, as he's completely forgotten the task at hand. The way that he looks at you, you'd be forgiven for thinking he has. Truthfully, the connection he has with you is so much more than what sex has ever been for him before. 

His hips lightly pulse, as he says, "Sorry. Where were we?"

"Think you were gonna make me cum."

"Ah, yeah. That. My bad."

His gentle thrusts begin to build pace once more. The grin on his face drops a little as he begins to concentrate on you. Watching him in the mirror, you're perplexed to be reminded of just how ethereal Jungkook looks when he fucks.

The deep ridge between his brows intensifies, as his mouth hands slack. His cheeks hollow a little, and his eyes remain entirely focused. Dark. Deep. Brooding.

As his hand dips around to gently stroke against your clit, Jungkook is just as taken away by the way you look. He isn't sure what it is that gets his heart so heavy in his chest, but he knows that he wants you to cum. Doesn't give a fuck about himself.

The walls of your cunt begin to tighten around his length as your moans deepen. You whine his name and he encourages a response, but neither of you can really talk. A numbness is washing over you, your balance unsteady.

"I'm gonna..." you begin, but find it impossible to finish.

"I know, baby," he nods all out of breath and desperately fucked out. "Give me what I want. Cum for me."

You trust and keep your eyes on him, but the nudging on his cock against your g-spot and the slow rubbing of your clit is just enough to tip you over.

"Kook," you whimper as your walls begin to tighten around him, but it's fruitless. There's a shake to your legs, and he's the only thing keeping you supported.

"Oh, fuck," he curses from the strength of your pussy around him. He's shaking just as much as you are. "Cream on this cock, baby. Oh, fuck. Yeah.Just like that. You're gonna make me cum, too. Gonna make me cum so fuckin' hard. All in your pussy. You want that, huh?"

It's as you're desperately whining, cumming all around his thick shaft that Jungkook feels his body lose control. There's a tightness to his balls, and a shudder to his sternum, that he hasn't felt since the last time he was in your bedroom. Last time he was in you, more specifically.

"Kook," you whimper his name, and that's when Jungkook really can't hold back.

"Yeah, babe," he rasps, as his hard thrusts become pathetic stutters. "I'm cumming."

The announcement isn't needed, for you swear you can almost feel it as his thick cum begins to fill you. The lack of a condom makes it all the more primal, the way his body shudders indicative of just how much cum he's filling you up with. 

His body collapses on yours a little, his clammy torso pressed to your back. The dress you're wearing is barely on properly, and the feeling of his skin against yours is catastrophic. As intimate as sex is, it's this right now, the beat of his heart thrumming against your spine that is the real disaster. How you can ever look him in the eye again is beyond you.

But then his lips are pressing chaste kisses to the curve of your neck, and his hands are squeezing at your hips. He doesn't pull out. Keeps himself warm inside you. Says, "How the fuck am I ever supposed to give you up, huh?"

That's the thing.

He isn't supposed to, and you damn well know it.

Reaching back for some tissue to help you out, Jungkook slowly withdraws. Holds his hand beneath your pussy, then replaces it with tissue. Turns you around and lets you take over.

"Here's a radical idea," you offer, not looking at him as you quickly make sure you're decent. Stay standing with your legs crossed, just in case. "Don't."

Pulling his shirt back over his head, Jungkook presses his back to the wall. There's a distance between you, yes, but you don't really feel it, 'cause it's purely physical.

And it's not like it lasts for very long either, 'cause Jungkook decides he needs to kiss you all over again.

"Alright," he whispers against your lips. "Say we don't. Say I wanna be yours. What the fuck do we do now?"

You shrug. The answers aren't yours to decide. It's up to you both.

"Well, firstly I'm gonna text Tae," you hum. "Tell him you're still an asshole and that I need to be let out immediately."

It's been half an hour.

He came to check on things about ten minutes ago.

The music might be loud, but not loud enough to drown out the way you guys fuck. 

Summer had been quiet. In his car, in your empty house, you've never had to keep it down before. Didn't even realise quite how loud you were being.

Which is why Jimin is the one who unlocks the outside bolt with a smirk a few minutes later, Taehyung watching on with a little disgusted grimace a metre or so back.

"Gross," he whisper shouts at you, but then he's smiling, too. Notices how Jungkook touches you—the hand he has on the small of your back, and the way he clasps your hand as you begin to walk ahead of him—and finds it impossible to be mad.

"C'mon," Jimin calls behind himself, leading you up and out of the basement. "We're going to the diner."

"We?" You question, incredibly confused.

"We." He simply says. Doesn't leave it up for debate. Gathers up the rest of the Untouchables (though Claudia is noticeably absent), and tells them the same thing he told you. Drags Taehyung along as well.

Jungkook was scared of integrating you into his life, but there's no other way to do it. Has to rip the band aid off.

As you walk into Montgomery's, hand in hand with the boy who had spent his summer wasting away with you in here, both of you realise that maybe it isn't such a huge deal.

Or at least, you do until Maria clocks you. Eyes darting from you, to Jungkook, and then to your gently clasped hands, she's in a state of absolute shock. Almost drops her tray.

"Sorry, what the fuck?!"

#byholly #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook ff #jk ff #jungkook x reader #jungkook imagine #bangtan fic #jungkook fluff #college!jungkook #non idol au #bts fanfic #bangtan ff #jungkook fic #jeon jungkook x reader #college au

[marvelouslizzie]

One More Night

Summary: You and Bucky Barnes are fuck buddies for a while. The problem is you have feelings for him but you don't think he reciprocates and it just makes it impossible to continue your relationship. Little did you know how much he wants you and how hard he's trying to keep it casual.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: +18, friends with benefits, idiots in love, unspoken feelings, miscommunication/misunderstandings, angst with happy ending, unprotected sex, pet names, no mention of y/n

Word Count: 3.4K

All work is mine, please do not repost or translate without my permission.

It is one of those days when you feel absolutely worthless. It wasn’t something you felt often before but now…. It is starting to feel like your new normal. You know it’s your fault, and it just makes you feel even worse. You let this happen when you let Bucky Barnes walk into your life without any consequences. Now he just has a free pass to destroy you anytime he wants. 

It was supposed to be just fun. Something casual because you know he has no intention of settling down. Especially not with you. Not that he said any of those words but he doesn’t need to. You just know it. 

He’s one of the popular guys in your college. It’s not surprising considering how handsome and charming he is. He’s also talented and hard-working. He takes school seriously unlike a lot of people around you. So when it comes to his free time, he just wants to have some fun, no strings attached and you were fine with this arrangement. You wanted to be close to him and this is the price: Your heart breaks every time. 

You don’t blame him but you definitely blame yourself because you put yourself in this position. If you weren’t so pathetic, you could simply say no and this regularly hooking-up arrangement of yours would have ended. Yet you never said no and he never stopped coming back to you. Probably because it’s convenient, you can’t come up with any other reason. Like who says no to an easy fuck, right? That is what you are. An easy fuck. Still, it’s breaking your heart every time he leaves your bed. You say to yourself “This is gonna be the last time” but when the next text or call comes, you fold once again. 

That’s how you ended up here. Your face is buried in the pillow while Bucky is pounding you from behind. It feels good. Actually, it feels pretty amazing. It always does but this time your emotions are overshadowing the physical pleasure. Tears are streaming down your face and you are grateful that he can’t see it thanks to this position. Then a sob escapes your mouth and you feel betrayed by your own body.

“Does it feel that good, doll?” He sounds smug but you can’t answer him. Not while trying to hold the rest of your sobs back. That seems to worry him. He suddenly stops and when he takes a closer look sees that your eyes are filled with tears.

“Hey, hey, hey! Are you alright?” He sounds genuinely worried. You try to say something but instead, more sobs come out. “What happened? Did I hurt you?”

He didn’t physically hurt you, yet you are hurt. You don’t know how to explain this to him. You feel embarrassed and angry at the same time. You pride yourself on how good you are at hiding your emotions. You don’t want anyone to see you cry. You don’t want anyone’s pity. Yet here you are. Eyes filled with tears, sobs escaping your lips and your heart is shattered.

“Please talk to me!” His desperate tone snaps you out of your thoughts. You try to turn on your back and quickly dry your tears. 

“It’s fine. Sorry for killing the mood. I just…” You hesitate for a second but no, you won’t back down this time. “I just can’t do this anymore.”

“That’s fine.” That wasn’t the response you were expecting. “You know it’s okay right?” His worry is so apparent in his voice. “You can always tell me to stop.” What is he talking about? “If you don’t like something or you don’t feel like it anymore… Just tell me next time and I will just stop.”

“There’s no next time Bucky.” The words come out of your mouth before you can process them. You didn’t intend to be so harsh but it came out so definite.

“What?”

“I’m telling you that I can’t do this…” You wave your hand between you two. “...anymore. I’m done. We are done.” 

“What…” He sounds shocked and hurt at the same time. You try to avoid looking at his eyes while he struggles to find the right words. “What are you talking about? Did I do something?”

“You didn’t do anything. It’s all my fault.” You have no intention to blame him. You know it’s on you. He never promised you anything.

“I don’t understand.” He sounds so lost. “Just help me understand what happened, okay? I thought everything was okay.”

“They were, for you. It was never okay for me.” 

You watch how his expression changes into something that breaks your heart even more. You never thought he would care this much but… apparently, he does. Maybe he’s not used to being rejected. Especially in the middle of sex.

“I… I don’t know what to say.” He looks at your face and then around. “I thought this is what you wanted.”

“What I wanted?” You repeat his words without missing a beat. “I never wanted this. This is what you wanted and that’s why we kept doing it. I was just…” You hesitate for a second because you hate to admit it. “weak.”

“Weak? You are never weak.”

“Oh, I am weak. This is why I kept saying ‘one more night’ to myself whenever you called or texted me. I’m weak as fuck and it makes me angry, okay? I shouldn’t be like this.”

“Doll, what are you talking about?”

His confusion confuses you as well. Can’t he see how much he’s hurting you? Is he really that blind or maybe he just doesn’t care.

“This arrangement might be working for you but it’s not working for me, okay?”

“But… this is what you wanted.”

“I never wanted this.”

“You said we can’t get emotions involved!” He sounds somewhat angry this time.

“Because you didn’t want emotions involved!” Your answer comes instantly.

“When did I ever say that?”

His question makes you stop for a second. He never said that but did he really have to? You know how popular he is. Everybody loves him. He has the prettiest face you have ever seen. You desperately wanted to be with him. You didn’t care how.

“Just look at you.”

“What does that even mean?” Is he doing this on purpose? He surely knows everybody wants him. Why does he have to hear it from you?

“It means you didn’t have to say it.”

“How does… I really don’t understand you.” His confusion is written all over his face. The way he hesitates makes you realize you have to say it out loud to make him understand.

“You are handsome. You are talented. Everybody loves you.” He keeps looking at you with confusion. He really doesn’t get it, does he? “You can have anybody you want!”

“Apparently not.” Why does he sound broken?

“Oh, come on!” Your reaction is instant. “You know you can. Don’t act humble. I’m just easier.”

“Easier?” You don’t miss the disbelief in his voice. “Easier?” This time it comes out more angry. “You were never easy!”

“You know what I mean. An easy fu-”

“Don’t you fucking dare!” The tone of his voice startles you. You never heard him talk like this. “I never wanted just an easy fuck. Especially not with you but that was all I could get!” Your head flinches back slightly. What is he talking about? 

“Bucky…” He doesn’t let you continue. 

“I don’t know what has gotten into you because this… what you called it? Arrangement, yes, was never my idea! You were the one who didn’t want to involve emotions. You were the one who said anything more than this would affect our friendship. I never said that!”

“I was trying to protect myself!”

“You never showed any interest to me!”

You blink a couple of times, trying to process that information. What did he think you were doing with him?

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“You never showed any interest in staying over. You never wanted to do anything outside the bedroom or wherever the fuck we were fucking. Whenever I tried to take you on a date, you came up with a lazy excuse.”

“Uh… what?”

“I tried so many times, sweetheart. You never let me in. You were only interested in sex and now you are blaming me for it. No. Be honest. If you wanna end this thing, it’s fine. You don’t need any lies. I get it. I knew it would happen eventually.” He’s speaking so fast, you can’t even find any opportunity to interrupt him until he stops.

“You tried to take me on dates?” He squishes his eyebrows together like he can’t believe you are focusing on that part.

“Many times. I suggested study dates, tried to take you on that concert, then that one comedy club thing…”

“I thought…” You don’t know how to finish that sentence.

“You thought what? You knew what I was trying to do and you weren’t interested, so I finally gave up.”

“No, no, no.” You jump from your awkward position on the bed. “I never realized.”

“What did you think I was doing?”

“I thought… they were activities with other… people. Not dates.”

“Why would I take other people to a concert with us?” Oh, he really doesn’t get it.

“I thought… you had plans with your friends and… you were… inviting me as well. Just to show… we are nothing more than friends.”

“Oh, dear god.” He covers his face with both of his hands. “Seriously? Why would you even think that?”

You mimic him and cover your face with embarrassment. You don’t want to say it. Especially not to him.

“I… just never thought…” You don’t know how to say it without making him realize how low you think of yourself. “You were interested in anything more than sex.”

“I’m handsome. I’m popular. Everybody loves me. Is that why?” He repeats your words with that god-awful mocking tone and it hurts to hear. What you don’t realize is that he’s making fun of himself.

“Yeah.” Your response comes out so weakly but he hears it.

He starts to laugh all of a sudden and all you can do is give him a confused look. 

“God you are so blind.”

“Hey!” You instantly respond.

“Have you ever looked in the mirror?” You make a face but it just spurs him. “You are gorgeous and smart. I always thought you were way out of my league.”

“What?”

“You heard me. You are out of my league.”

“Come on… That’s-” He interrupts you again.

“Please.” The way he says it makes you stop talking. “I have been struggling to come to terms with you not liking me. I just told myself, you have done everything you can. You tried so many times. It’s a miracle she still wants to fuck you. I convinced myself this was all I could get so I tried to make peace with it. Now you are telling me you don’t want to keep doing this. What did you think I was gonna think?”

He just baffles you with every word coming out of his mouth. You look at him, not knowing what to say or what to think, even.

“And you thought you were just an easy fuck? Jesus, doll. Do you have any idea how many times I prepared myself for rejection? Every time I called you, I thought you weren’t gonna pick up. Every time I texted you, I prepared myself to hear ‘no’, and every time it did not come, I was the happiest man on earth because I had one more night with you!”

You don’t know when it started but you start to feel tears filling your eyes.

“Please don’t cry anymore.” He moves his hand on your face and catches a tear before it drops on your cheeks.

“I…” It’s so hard to speak normally. “I never thought…”

“What?” This time it comes out softer. You know he wants to hear it because he needs that assurance as much as you do.

“You would actually like me.”

“Like you? Oh, doll… I don’t like you. The word like doesn’t even cover it.” The smile he gives you ignites something inside you. Something you tried to push down for a long time. Suddenly you push him back a little bit and his mouth falls open but he doesn’t get the chance to say anything. You just sit on his lap, taking him back inside you and it slips right back in so easily. It makes you want to moan out loud but instead, you wrap your legs around his torso and trap him there.

“Oh fuck…” His moan is like music to your ears. It’s so raw and unfiltered.

You don’t say anything. Your hand wraps around his neck before you start to move. His hand quickly finds your breasts, squeezing them a lot harder than he ever did before. 

“You are so fucking gorgeous.” He says right next to your ear. You feel his breath on your neck and his lips attach to your neck as if he knows what you want. He starts gently. First, he sucks the skin and makes you whimper. Then his teeth graze the sore skin. When he finally bites the same spot, you realize he was just giving you some time to protest but it never came. His bite pulls a groan out of you and the way it hurts falters your rhythm.

“Sorry, I couldn’t resist.” He licks the same spot, trying to soothe the pain. “There’s a part of me…” He tries to find the right word. “...that wants to mark you. Show the world that you’re mine.” Fuck, is he serious? He stops for another second to ask “Are you mine, doll?” He sounds so nervous yet possessive.

“I am.” You move a little back and look into his eyes while saying that. “I have been for a long time.”

He grabs your cheeks with both of his hands and pulls you in for a long, passionate kiss. It's all tongue and teeth, making you burn with passion.

“I’m yours, too. I think I always have been.” 

It’s your turn to show how much those words mean to you. You start to move again on his lap. This time it’s faster than before and it just makes both of you moan loudly. He wraps his arms around your body while he supports your movement by grabbing your ass and moving you a bit faster than before.

“Shit!” It feels good but it also restricts your range of movement and he realizes it quickly.

“Sorry. I just want to feel you all over me.”

You want to say it’s alright but he’s a lot faster than you. Suddenly you find yourself on your back. Bucky’s still between your legs. He never left inside you while changing the position. 

“Wrap your legs around me, baby.” 

God, the way he says it sounds like a soft order. You can practically feel the desire running through your veins. Your legs are automatically wrapped around his ass while he starts to move but he doesn’t put any distance between you. His whole body is pressed against yours while he’s kissing and licking all over your neck.

Sex with Bucky never felt like this. It was always good. You don’t remember any occasion you didn’t enjoy it or reach orgasm. Yet this feels like real intimacy. The way he’s making you feel is indescribable. You can feel everything he said before while he moves inside you. How much he wants you, how much he adores you… The way he clings to you fills you with love. All of it enhances the physical pleasure. Loud moans escape your lips.

“So… All this time…” Bucky starts to talk. “You thought I was here because this is easy.”

Ah, fuck. He isn’t gonna let that go, is he? You should’ve known that. You roll your eyes in response but he doesn’t see it. His head is still buried in the crook of your neck.

“All this time… I was where I wanted to be.” Your annoyance quickly fades away as he keeps talking. “Underneath your body.”

“You weren’t always underneath me.” You answer him with a playful tone.

“As long as I’m inside you, the position doesn’t matter.”

“So…” You try to ask as quickly as possible before your sudden courage disappears. “You haven’t been sleeping around with anyone else.”

He raises his head just to look into your eyes. 

“All this time, you thought I was fucking other people?”

“I mean…” You were just friends with benefits. What else you were supposed to assume?

“Were you?”

“Was I what?”

“Fucking other people?” His question is a lot more blunt than yours.

“I asked first!” You sound so defensive all of a sudden.

“I can’t live without touching you, smelling you, feeling you… I have been craving you non-stop, only stopping myself from calling you every day, just so I wouldn’t scare you away and you are asking me if I have been fucking other people. Jesus Christ, doll. How blind are you?”

You are questioning the same thing yourself, to be honest. How blind were you? While trying to surpass your feelings, you were overlooking his, as well. It’s just unbelievable.

“Doll?” You didn’t realize you were lost in thoughts. “It’s fine if you have been.” It doesn’t sound fine at all. It sounds like he’s trying to rationalize it so it would hurt less. “I’m not saying I won’t be jealous but it’s not like we were actually together.”

You start to laugh and he gives you a strange look.

“You are such an idiot and you call me blind.”

“What?”

“I only ever wanted you, you moron.” 

His smile is so big and bright, it’s worth everything you two went through. His happiness is practically radiating. Suddenly, his lips are on yours, kissing you like a madman.

“You’re only mine.” He starts to move inside you again and you can feel how close you are to coming.

“Only yours.” Your words make him groan loudly. 

“Fuck that mouth of yours. You’re gonna make me come before you.”

“You can do that later.” You tease him while moving your hips to meet him.

“Is that a promise?”

“It can be. Only if you fuck me just a little harder so I can finally come!”

That makes him move away from you. He stands up and without losing any time, pulls you on the edge of the bed. You know what’s coming and it makes you smile like a fool. He positions himself between your legs while pushing your knees on your chest. In a couple of seconds, he’s back inside you but the position feels so much better this time. A loud moan leaves your lips every time he hits that sweet spot inside you.

“Harder, huh?”

“Yeah. Just like that.” It’s so hard to not roll your eyes with the pleasure he’s giving you. It’s familiar yet it feels so different this time.

“My girl wants it rough. Why didn’t you just say so?” He sounds cocky there’s also a hint of eagerness in his voice. You can tell he’s close.

“Do I have to tell you everything?” 

“From now on, yes. You have to tell me everything.” That authoritative tone pushes you over the edge. “Every fucking thing you feel, okay? Every fucking thing you want. I wanna know everything!”

“Yes!” You practically scream. You don’t know if you are answering him or just screaming because of the way he makes you feel. Your legs are shaking violently while your whole body tightens up. “Fuck yes. Please, please, please, don’t stop!” Your eyes are closed while you are riding your high.

That makes him groan so loudly. Even though you can’t directly look at his face anymore, you just know he’s about to come. He starts to pound on you so forcefully, it just unlocks another level of orgasm for you. Both of your moans fill the room and he keeps going until he empties himself inside you. After what feels like an eternity, he pulls out of you and lays right next to you.

“Fuck, that was…” The struggles to find the right word.

“On another level?” You offer to end the sentence for him. That’s exactly how you feel.

“Yeah.” He doesn’t miss a beat. “We should’ve talked to each other before.”

“We were busy doing other stuff.” You smile and he smiles back, knowing exactly what you mean.

“I guess we did everything other than talking things through, huh?”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes one shot #sebastian stan #marvel fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky x reader #bucky x you #my stories #college bucky barnes #college bucky barnes x reader

[alicraft336]

Twisted Wonderland Incorrect Quotes [2]

Lilia: *patting Yuu/Mc on the back* "I'm sure your parents would be very proud of you Yuu/Mc!"

Yuu/Mc: "I actually don't have parents...."

Lilia:

Yuu/Mc:

Lilia: "Your father is very proud of you!"

Yuu/Mc: *confused* "Lilia, I just told you I don't have parents-"

Lilia: "how do you feel about moving into Diasomnia with me and your brother?"

#Twst #Twisted Wonderland #Twst Wonderland #Disney Twisted Wonderland #Disney Twst #Night Raven College #Twst Incorrect Quotes #Twisted Wonderland x Reader #Diasomnia #Diasomnia Family #Twist Lilia Vanrouge #Lilia Vanrouge #Twst Lilia #Twst x Reader #Twst x You #Twst Yuu

[pellucid-constellations]

Faking It

Pairing: College Athlete!Bucky x Reader

Summary: Bucky Barnes was in love with his girl—disgustingly, annoyingly so. Enough to start fights on the ice just to make sure he saw her after a game.

Word count: 3k

Warnings: This is FLUFF!! With HOCKEY MAN

a/n:​​​ This was originally something completely different but then I hated it so now it's all fluff and now I do not hate it. Pleaseeeee let me know what you think and if you enjoy it!! I love you thanks for reading ❤️❤️❤️

Masterlist

~~

“Jesus Christ, Buck. Again?” 

Bucky grinned, split lip tightening uncomfortably. When he turned to his captain, he had the gall to act oblivious. “What do you mean, captain?” 

Steve gave him a disapproving look. “Give it up, pal. There was no need to pick a fight with that guy and you know it.” 

“He was talking shit about the team!” 

“They’ll always be a player talking shit about the team.” 

“Then why’re you breathing down my neck right now, huh? We won. Be happy, Cap,” Bucky encouraged, slinging an arm over his shoulder. Steve raised a brow back at him but was clearly fighting back a smirk. Bucky could tell by the way his eyes lifted, contrasting his deep—albeit fake—frown. 

In truth, Bucky had been looking for a fight. He’d been looking for a plethora of fights since the start of the season, and was usually quite successful with his venture. It had garnered him quite the reputation, but where the crowd saw it as a short-fuse on a large man, Steve saw it for what it really was. 

An opportunity to see you. 

And while Steve could appreciate the dedication, it made one of his best players ride out unnecessary time in the penalty box. 

“I am happy. Just not with you,” Steve clarified, knocking Bucky’s arm away. 

Bucky let out a sound close to a scoff. “Even with my extra time in the sin bin I still helped carry. It’s just part of the game, Steve. Gotta protect the team’s pride.” 

“Yeah,” Steve drawled sarcastically, stopping in front of the locker room doors. “I’m sure that was your reasoning. What was it last game? Someone said something about your ma?” 

“Hey, he did.” 

“They always do.”

Heavy footsteps created a commotion in the hall, the rest of the team finally catching up with the pair. They funneled their way into the room for showers and a fresh change of clothes, and Steve stood with his crossed arms leaning against the wall, somehow still directing an admonishing look towards Bucky amidst the crowd. Bucky did his best to look baffled by the unspoken accusation, but then Sam Wilson passed by and Bucky’s ploy was disintegrated. 

“Hey man,” Sam greeted, slapping a friendly hand against Bucky’s arm as he passed. “You let someone beat the shit out of you again so you could go see your girl?” 

Bucky’s scoff returned, but this time Steve was having none of it. He kicked off of the wall and went to follow the rest of the team into the locker room. Bucky watched with a grimace, not only caught, but put on display.

“You know,” Steve called over his shoulder, not expecting Bucky to follow. “You’re dating the girl now. You don’t gotta keep up with this whole schtick.” 

“I don’t have a schtick,” he called back. At the responding laugh from Steve, Bucky yelled, “I don’t!” but no one was listening to him. Or believing him. 

But fine. If his schtick involved you, in any capacity, Bucky would admit to having one. 

Some of what Steve said was right. Bucky was dating you now. You were his girl and that would imply total access to you all the time, whenever he wanted. He didn’t need to pick fights or feign injuries anymore (the latter never really worked anyways), because he had a key to your apartment. And you were in his bed more weekends than not. 

But, damn, were you busy right now. 

Bucky had never really considered how much schooling went into becoming a physical therapist until he met you. You were typically swamped with papers and tests and requests from Dr. Cho, but this past month had been exponentially worse thanks to finals. He had seen you about once a week if he was lucky, and that was a generous estimation. Add your crazy schedule to the alarming amount of away games he had over the past few weeks and he was champing at the bit to see you. 

Bucky just prayed it was you in the training room today and not Dr. Cho. His odds were pretty favorable considering the team’s main trainer didn’t usually stick around after games if there were no major injuries, but there was always the off chance she let her interns go home early. But, knowing you, you would be in that room until the rink lights went off. 

God, he loved you. Every overworked, high-strung bit of you. 

He even loved the scolding look you shot him as he pushed open the training room doors, his bruises and cuts on full display. You dropped the pen you were tapping against an overflowing notebook and rocketed out of your rolling stool, and Bucky adored the way you stomped over to him, biting the inside of your cheek to stop the curse you clearly wanted to let free. 

“Hey, baby,” Bucky smiled, this time ignoring the sting in his lip. “Funny seeing you here.” 

You huffed, bringing careful fingers up to his chin. “Not very funny,” you mumbled. “Not when you look like someone hit you with their car.” 

Bucky let you fuss for a moment, following your touch as you turned his head back and forth and examined his split knuckles. This was your job, so obviously he let you do it, but he enjoyed watching you. So he didn’t stop you from lifting his jersey up to inspect his middle, because how else would he catch the cute way you scrunch your nose up in concentration? If he pulled his hands away when you started testing the range of motion in his wrists, when else would he be able to track your lips as you softly counted and mouthed gentle confirmations? 

Never. Because you were so damn busy. 

“Missed you,” Bucky said after sneaking a kiss on your forehead while you were prodding at the bruise on his collarbone. “I’ve been missing you a lot.” 

You let a small smile interrupt the disgruntlement on your face. Bucky grinned at the change, pressing another kiss to your hair while he still could. 

“Did you miss me enough to send a right hook into that guy’s jaw?” 

“Yes.” 

Your smile was gone again. Now you looked aghast. “Bucky.” 

“What?” he exclaimed, sliding his torn hands from your healing ones to wrap you in his embrace. “You want me to lie instead? Okay, fine. No, sweetheart, I didn’t start a fight just to have an excuse to see you. That guy got all these punches in on me because I’m out of practice, is all. I don’t think about you every waking second of my life, and while we’re at it, no I did not use your shampoo this morning because I miss how—”

“Okay, okay,” you laughed, resting your forehead on the divot in his chest. “I get it. Thanks for being truthful.” 

Bucky relished in the feel of you. He had been slightly worried that his state would cause you to be more upset than anything. If you weren’t so tired right now, there was a high chance you’d be yelling at him because of his recklessness instead of resting against his chest. So Bucky jumped at the opportunity, trailing one of his hands up to cup the back of your head. He craned his neck down, burying his face into the juncture of your neck. 

He hadn’t been lying about the shampoo. 

“I miss you too. Even if you act like an idiot sometimes,” you mumbled against his jersey. 

Something in Bucky felt lighter, warm. “Acting like an idiot’s the only way I get to see my girl.” 

You hummed. “Sorry ‘m so busy.” 

You had to be exhausted. Not even a single reprimand had tumbled from your mouth. Bucky had expected at least three. 

“When’s the last time you slept, baby?” Bucky kept his voice low, his thumb making unconscious circles against your hair. 

“I don’t know. In the night.” 

“Okay, thanks smart ass.” Bucky jostled you a bit until your eyes met his. “I meant when did you last take a break? Get a good night’s sleep?” 

You sighed, gaze trailing over his face. “Let me fix you up. Then we can play twenty questions.” 

“Baby—”

“No, Buck, this is the training room, if you haven’t noticed,” you quipped, stepping back and rifling through a few drawers. “Take a seat and I’ll fix you. That’s my job.” 

“Well, what about my job?” he grumbled back. 

“You have failed at your job. Your job is hockey and you instead played human punching bag.” 

“Not that job. My other job. The one where I take care of you.” 

You spun on your heel, a basket of supplies resting on your hip. The sweater that engulfed your frame had the university’s logo stamped across the front, but instead of jeans or slacks—the usual uniform for PT interns—you wore leggings. Your hair was pulled back in the most endearing, pretty mess, and Bucky’s chest hurt as he looked at you. 

“My tired girl,” he hummed, bringing his hand up to your cheek as you pushed him down on the exam chair. He sat if only to appease you, his feet still flat on the floor even with the tall seat.

“I’m only a little tired,” you weakly fought. Bucky chuckled in response, sanitary paper crinkling beneath him. “Now let me clean you up.” 

You snapped gloves onto your hands and Bucky fought back a petulant whine. If he had been any other member of the team, those gloves would have been on the second they walked in the door. He should be grateful, then, that you only put them on when it was time to tend to his wounds, but he wasn’t. He missed you too much to feel latex instead of your skin. 

Bucky’s lip stung as you cleaned it, but he hardly flinched. If he moved, he would miss the pretty way you bit into your lip as you stared at him. 

“Remember when I’d be in here all the time?” he asked when you turned back down to grab antibiotic cream. 

You let out a tired laugh. “How could I forget? You picked a fight every game. If that didn't work you’d come stumbling in here complaining about a torn ACL or whatever. Big liar.” 

“I wouldn’t call it lying.” 

The smile you gave him was replicated on his own face. 

“You were literally lying.” You dabbed the cream on his lip, and then moved to the cut on his cheek. “You would come limping in here and then I’d see you an hour later running out to the parking lot.” 

“You wouldn’t look at me if I wasn’t injured.” 

“It was my job, Bucky!” you laughed, eyes giving away your amusement. “I wasn’t supposed to be fraternizing with the players. I’m pretty sure Cho only lets us be together because you wouldn’t leave her alone otherwise.” 

Bucky moved his hands from his thighs to your waist, tugging you closer as you worked. “Hey, sometimes drastic measures are needed.” 

“You called her multiple times a day… bought her an edible arrangement. Wait, didn’t you offer to drive her kids to school a few times?” 

“It worked, didn’t it,” he posed, nudging his nose against your cheek. You giggled, lightly slapping his arm to get away. 

“The edible arrangement was a good touch,” you relented. 

Bucky released you as you wiggled from his grip, flitting around the training room to put supplies back. He spotted your backpack in the corner of the room, unzipped with the water bottle tipping out. When you sat down at the computer to document his care, which he found a bit ridiculous (you only put a bandaid on his face), Bucky walked over and gathered your things. He did so slowly so you wouldn’t notice; you probably had plans to stay at the rink for another few hours, and that was not okay with him. 

With a final zip and your water bottle now standing upright, Bucky meandered over to your seated position. He hooked his chin over your shoulder as you worked, leaning over and tapping your phone screen for the time. His heart twisted warmly in his chest when he saw a picture of himself smiling under the 8:00 pm displayed on the homescreen. 

After all the pining and work it took to get you, Bucky often felt this wasn’t real. 

God, he loved you. 

“I know what you’re trying to do,” you whispered, clicking away at the computer. “I still have some charting to do. Peter hit his head yesterday and I have to do the follow up work.” 

Still in his uniform, Bucky wrapped you up from behind. Now you would both need a shower and he could get you to leave. He kissed the back of your head, and then your temple, and then your cheek as he craned his neck to watch you work. You smelled like fresh laundry and books and the subtle hint of your perfume.

“Parker’s fine. He was up and playing today. Let’s go home, baby,” Bucky murmured, most of his words spoken against your skin. 

“I know he’s okay. But head injuries are a completely different protocol and I have to—” 

“I miss you,” he reiterated. “And you’re working too hard. All the lights are off in the rink ‘cept for this one. Come back to my place. Let me take care of you.” 

“Why don’t you shower and change first? I’ll leave with you once you finish.” 

Bucky spun your stool around suddenly, one hand on your waist, the other reaching back to steady himself on the desk now at your back. “Oh no, don’t try to pull that on me. I get back in here, you’re gonna tell me you started something new you can only finish on the PT computer and you can’t leave for another hour. I wasn’t born yesterday.”

You let out a quick sigh, caught. “Well, what about—” 

“Nope,” Bucky interrupted. He used his far hand to shut the facility computer and then guided you up. “You’re coming home with me. You’re gonna sit in the car while I drive you to my apartment and then we’re gonna take a shower together and I’m gonna make you feel so good you don’t even remember what a concussion is.” 

“Bucky,” you chastised, hiding your face in his shoulder. 

His laugh shook your head. “Still so damn shy.” He reached down to grab your bag, slinging it over his shoulder and placing a hand on the back of your neck, meeting your averted gaze. “Just me in here, baby.” 

“I know. But you don’t have to be so vulgar.” 

“Vulgar? Sweetheart, if you want vulgar I’ll tell you exactly what I’m gonna do to you the second we—” 

You slapped your hand over his mouth, careful for the delicate skin there. Still, Bucky was sure you could feel his smile against your skin, and he fought back an even bigger one when he saw the embarrassed twist of your brow. 

Slowly, he pried your wrist down, kissing the palm of your hand on the way. “Sorry,” he whispered, not sorry in the slightest.

You pursed your lips, flustered. “You’re such an antagonizer.”

Bucky could do this every day and never grow tired of it. It had been months now and he found himself only wanting you more. 

“Can’t help it. I love you.”

Your faux annoyance morphed into a bashful smile, the kind Bucky remembered from his time faking injuries. It was reminiscent of when you were trying not to laugh at his jokes, or smile at his flirting, or give him any reaction he was looking for. 

But he always got what he wanted in the end. 

And, more than anything, he wanted you. 

“That one do the trick?” Bucky asked. “Am I finally getting my girl to come home with me?” 

When you looked up at him with raised brows and a smile twisted up at the corners, he knew you’d given up. Perfect timing, too, because—in all honesty—Bucky had been punched in the side during his on-ice tussle, and his ribs were starting to hurt. You were going to be pissed when you saw the bruise form tomorrow morning, but you would be pissed in his bed, so it was worth it to Bucky.

“I have to get a little bit of homework done when we get there,” you reasoned, pointing an accusing finger at your boyfriend. 

He threw his hands up in surrender, dropping one down over your shoulders as you both walked out. “Okay, okay. Homework at my place, I got it.” 

“That comes first, Bucky. Before anything else. Shower, then homework, and then… other things.” 

“I know what first means, baby.” 

“Good.” 

But Bucky had other plans, and they did not involve homework. He was pretty sure you were ahead, anyways. Like, weeks ahead, actually. 

“You eat dinner yet?” he asked, fishing his keys from his pocket. 

You looked up at him, incredulous. “What did I just say?” 

“What?” he defended, tugging you closer as the wind in the parking lot whipped at your clothes. “I can’t make sure my girl’s had dinner? What am I allowed to do?”

You only scoffed, tucking yourself further into his side. “Keep me warm.” 

“Always, baby.” 

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes reader insert #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes au #college!bucky #athlete!bucky #bucky barnes

[lovaesworld]

college boy!gojo who been obsessing over you ever since he first laid eyes on you sitting in the front of one of his classes. you made his cock so painfully hard every time you even as little as glance at the boy, was enough to make him cum in his pants.

he would even go as far as sneaking into your dorm and going as low as stealing your used pink panties— desperately jerking off his cock, visioning your soft plump lips wrapped around him until he's whining how close he is. gojo was more than happy when he got his hands on you.

“a-angel too m’much” gojo whimpered at your tight cunt clenching around him sucking every inch in each time his hips bucked up into you. his moans growing louder as his thrust grew sloppier, getting closer to his own orgasm before stuffing you to the brim and filling you up with his cum. his body shaking, toes curling and cock going limp.

#lovaes works ୨୧ #x black reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #gojo x black reader #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #gojou satoru x reader #gojo smut #college boy gojo #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #jjk satoru #satoru smut #lovaesworld #my writing