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writing-wh0re · 4 months

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“That's my girl, you take cock so well.”

♥ pairing: professor!nanami x professor!reader

♥ summary: Based on this ask “Reader is a new young and fun professor at the college and works in the same hall as Nanami. She challenges Nanami and his old school ways. Nanami ends up folding her up in his expensive car after class ends and makes her submit to him. ”

♥ warnings: smut 18+, oral, female performing oral, spit, slight throat fucking, praise, unprotected sex, creampie, car sex, cowgirl, mention of hickies, slight begging, pet names: baby, little plot with banter.

♥ wc: 2,523

♥ masterlist & taglist

You watch the tall blonde man in awe, with every comment written against the exam, his arm flexes ever so slightly, tensing the muscles with each stroke. God what you would give to feel his arms around your body, his hands on you.

Nanami reaches up to adjust his glasses causing a small panic to rush through you, not wanting to be caught eye fucking the man. You quickly move your mouse around, clicking blindly on the screen, fringing busyness.

“Y/n.”

You look up towards Nanami, embarrassingly quick, your mind in two places, hoping he didn’t catch you.

“I’m half way through these exams, could you cross mark this pile for me?”

You eyes glance over at the stack of stapled paper, at least 30 students work all compiled together.

“Paper exams? C’mon Nanami, that’s just punishing yourself.”

Nanami smirks slightly watching you move from your desk to his.

“It keeps my students honest.”

“Yeah and bored, I’m surprised anyone has a pen on them these days.”

You grab the stack of papers and head back to your desk before stopping yourself.

“Speaking of pens.” You trail off as Nanami presents you his red pen, knowingly having a pencil case full of others.

“Thanks.” Blush nips at your cheeks, adding a mental note to buy yourself pens.

The two of you sit in comfortable silence, each going over the exams. After a while your wrist starts to cramp.

“I don’t know how you do it.”

“Hmm.” Nanami hums, keeping his eyes on the test in front of him.

“How is your wrist not killing you? Cross marking my exams will be so much easier.”

Nanami chuckles, his eyes finally leaving the paper and connecting with yours.

“Why don’t you print yours out for me?”

“Why don’t I just give you a lesson in technology?”

A small smirk crosses his lips as he sits back in his chair, loosening his tie and crossing his arms over his chest.

“I have all night if you do.”

“Oh Nanami.” You sigh, wait, is that blush on his cheeks? You quickly push past the thought and continue. “You doubt my abilities, I’m a great teacher, it won’t take all night.”

Nanami smiles, looking at the window as thunder rumbles through the sky.

“Although, with your elderly ways yours might be the most time consuming.”

Nanami laughs, shaking his head at you before picking up his pen and continuing with his marking.

God, you wish you could have recorded that sound.

| | |

“Okay, now this document allows for students to collaborate virtually, I use these documents to not force students into sectioned group work”

Nanami sighs, sitting back in his chair that is now squeezed in beside you.

“You’ll have to write this down for me.”

“The more you do it, the easier it will get.” You smile at him, watching as he nods, a slight frown over his brow.

“Hey, if you’d like I can come into a class when you’re introducing it to your students and help along the way.”

“The students won’t need help.”

“I wasn’t talking about the students.”

A silence falls between you two, the sound of thunder rumbling in the sky, the wind howling against the windows as rain begins to pitter patter against the tin roof.

“I’d appreciate that.” Nanami smiles, looking over his shoulder at the window.

“We should head home, before this storm keeps us here.”

“Uh yeah, you go, I decided to take the bus this morning so I’ll wait it out.”

“The bus?”

“Yeah, it's this huge metal box on wheels with little to no personal space.”

Nanami scoffs, rolling his eyes.

“I’ll drive you home, smartass.”

You heartbeat picks up, he will drive you? God sitting next to him at your desk was hard enough but contained in his car? Fuck.

“You really don’t have to, I wouldn't want-”

“Y/n, it wasn’t a question.”

You huff slightly, his authoritative voice sending a wave of arousal to your core.

The wind outside picks up as Nanami packs up his papers.

“C’mon, I don’t want us caught in the storm.”

You nod, quickly packing up your desk and following behind the tall man. While trailing behind you reach into your bag, quickly spritzing yourself with your perfume the hints of vanilla and bergamot floating in the air.

Nanami holds the door open for you. You gingerly step outside, although under cover, the wind blows your hair across your face, the chill causing you to shiver. You tense slightly as Nanami places his hand on the middle of you back. He bends down, the rain picking up as he whispers in your ear, his warm minty breath fanning against your cheek.

“I’m the blue mercedes over there.” He presses his car key causing the yellow lights to flash once. “It’s unlocked but we’ve got to run, the rain won't slow for us.”

You simply nod at his instruction knowing your voice would struggle to compete against the downpour. Nanami’s hand leaves your back, he quickly checks his surroundings before rushing into the rain. You’re quick to follow behind him, stepping in a few small puddles as the water splashes against your bare legs, your skirt not providing any warmth or coverage from the water.

You slide into the passenger seat, the leather slippery under your rain soaked skin.

The air of the car is filled with both of your heavy breathing, both of you taking a moment to catch your breath from the rush. You look over at Nanami, his blonde hair dripping water down his face, the droplets falling from his strong jaw. His eyes lock with yours, your hair also wet and sticking to you. Small droplets are stuck to your eyelashes, running down your face with each blink.

Both of you smile at each other, laughter filling the air at your small adventure. The rain picks up, accompanied by lightning and thunder. The front windscreen mimics a waterfall, the car ever so slightly rocking from the gusts of wind.

“That’s one way to get me wet.” You joke as Nanami leans his head back against the headrest.

“Not how I intended.” Nanami whispers, if you weren't so close to him you would have missed it.

You look over at him, his blue shirt stuck to his toned chest, his skin silky with water.

“How did you intend?”

The words leave your lips in a breath, almost inaudible, not sure where it could take you or if you want him to hear.

Nanami stays quiet, a deep sigh falling from his parted lips. You almost want to take it back and act like you asked a different question but his eyes capture yours, his hand falling to your knee.

“Taking you out, treating you to dinner and maybe, if you considered me lucky enough, spending the night with you and showing you how to use that smart mouth of yours.”

Your breathing hitches as his fingers trace shapes on your thigh. You take in what he’s just told you, your heartbeat picking up and your body becoming warm as the water on your skin feels sticky. Nanami goes to pull his hand away from you, believing he has overstepped but you grab his wrist.

“Show me.”

Nanami smirks at you, dragging his fingertips up your body, his hand caressing your cheek and turning you to face him. His thumb hovers over your lips, his eyes darken as you press a kiss against his fingertip. He drags your bottom lip down, your tongue licking against the digit as he slips it past your lips.

“Fuck.” He breaths, watching your lips wrap around his thumb, your tongue slowly swirling around it. He pulls his hand away from your mouth, tangling his hand in your hair and pulling you closer to him, your lips ghosting against him.

“Kento, please.”

Nanami swallows harshly, his forehead resting upon yours.

“Say that again.”

“Kento.”

He groans before connecting your lips together. Your hands fly to his face pulling him against you. Your tongues tangle against each other, his fingers scratching against your scalp. You rest one hand on his shoulder, the other running down his chest. You moan against his lips as you touch his body, your fingers pulling on the buttons.

He pulls away from you, your eyes locking with his tiny water droplets on his glasses from his hair.

“Get in the back.”

You quickly shuffle into the back, more room that you thought. You wait in the middle as Nanami pulls his tie off, opening his door and stepping into the rain before sliding in beside you. The windows in the car begin to fog up at the brief edition of cold air.

Nanami rests against the seat, looking over at you and gesturing for you to get on top of him. You’re quick to straddle his waist, your skirt bunching up around your hips, the blue lace of your panties sticking to your dampening core. His fingers grip your waist, pulling you against him as your lips mould together. He leans forward slightly, holding you tight and kissing down the column of your throat as your moans fill the air, competing with the rain. His hands slip under your skirt, guiding your hips against his crotch, his moans mixing with yours.

Your hands slip between your bodies, fumbling with his belt and pulling his shirt from the waistband. You move to slip your hand into his pants before he stops you.

“Oh baby, I haven’t used your mouth yet.”

You nod at his statement, wiggling on the seat and slipping down into the footwell as Nanami chuckles at your eagerness. He helps you free his cock which has your mouthwatering, the long member throbbing at it’s freedom before you wrap your hand around the base.

Nanami rests one arm against the head rests of the back seat, his other hand caressing your cheek as you trail your tongue up his cock. The moment your lips wrap around the tip he thrusts into your throat, a gag filling the air as he coo’s at you encouragingly.

“You can take it, show me baby.”

You move your mouth up and down his member, his hand moves from your cheek to your hair, holding it away from your face to ensure he doesn’t miss a moment of his cock disappearing past your spit covered lips.

Nanami slowly rocks his hips up into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat as your eyes water. Your hand pumps his cock faster, watching as he tips his head back against the headrest, moaning your name into the air. You’d continue this for the rest of your life to hear him moan for you over and over. You go to pull back as he holds you still, keeping his cock buried in your throat. You squeeze your eyes shut at the action causing him to release; you pull back with a gasp, his cock popping from your lips. Spit sticks to the tip leading a trail to your lips. Small pools of drool have formed around your mouth, your eyes glistening with tears.

Nanami winks at you, bending down and placing a soft kiss to your lips. His hands fall to your biceps, helping to pull you up from the footwell and to his lap. He brushes your hair away from your face, kissing your slightly swollen lips, his teeth grazing against your bottom lip before pulling back, his eyes locking with yours.

You break his eye contact, pulling your shirt over your head and unclasping your bra. Silently thanking yourself for choosing a matching set this morning. Nanami rests against the seat, watching you undress for him, taking in every curve and mark on your torso, his fingers slowly unbuttoning his shirt. His hands fall to your tits, massaging the skin, a small smile on his face.

“So beautiful.”

Blush heats up your face, goosebumps littering your skin.

“Please Kento.” You grind your hips against his hard cock earning a hiss to fall from his lips. The lace of your panties scratching the sensitive head.

Nanami leans forward, kissing your breasts, sucking against the skin, leaving his mark on your body. Something you’re bound to be looking at for days.He runs his hands down your body, gripping your ass tight. He bunches your skirt up higher, looking down at your clothed pussy.

His eyes lock with yours silently asking permission before you nod eagerly. He pulls your pants to the side, a small chuckle vibrating through his chest at your wetness. Nanami drags his cock up your slit, nudging your clit with the head.

“God you’re tight.” He hisses, sliding against your slick walls.

“Fuck, so big.” Your hands rest on his shoulders, nails digging into the skin.

Nanami holds you in place, capturing your lips with his, his fingers digging into the skin of your ass.

You softly rock your hips, his hands guiding you, helping you set a rhythm. You alternate between swirling your hips side to side and rocking back and fourth. Continuing to pull moans from his lips like a prayer, yours accompanying his.

You lean back, your shoulders resting against the backside of the driver seat, watching as his cock slips in and out of your pussy.

“That's my girl, you take cock so well”

His girl.

The simple comment causes your pussy to flutter around his cock, tightening.

Nanami licks his lips, reaching towards your lips and slipping his middle finger into your open mouth. You moan around him, swirling your tongue as your eyes close. He pulls the digit from your lips and places it against your clit causing your breath to hitch.

“Oh fuck.”

Nanami keeps his eyes fixated on your pussy, watching his cock slide in and out, his free hand helping you keep a rhythm as he circles your clit with his finger.

“Don’t stop.” You moan as Nanami’s hips thrust up into you, his pace on your clit picking up slightly. You place you free hand against the roof of his car, your body tensing as your eyes squeeze shut.

“Kento.” You moan loud, your rhythm slowing, your cum covering his cock, the sound of your wetness floating around the car. Nanami groans low, pulling you to his chest, wrapping his arms around you as he fucks you through your release, chasing his own.

Your lips fall to his neck, kissing, biting and sucking the skin. He places a hand against your head, the other staying wrapped around you, a low moan vibrating through his chest. The thunder outside rumbles against the car, his cock twitching deep inside of you. A warmth fills you, his hips slowing, his fingertips dragging up and down your back soothingly, the other running through your hair. You pull back from him, looking over his neck, the faintest hickies showing on his skin.

“Let me get you home.” Nanami kisses your forehead, helping you slip off his cock and sliding your pantines back across.

“For round two?” You wink which causes blush to tint his cheeks.

Taglist - Tag yourself here

@zagreusdaughter @sunshinemunchkin @alina02 @veryspookybatbabe @maybesandohnos @mathletemadison @themoonis-beautiful-tonight @skarlettmikaelson @darling2800 @reynaandeny @uwiuwi @anythingandeverything97 @fckve @nyx2021 @alexxavicry @thehumanistsdiary @anonreaderas @i-love-scott-mccall

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killishin · 1 month

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JEALOUS

pairing : damian x reader

warning : some jealousy

category : fluff

author's note : okay my exams are over ( for now ) and im writing after like a year so if there's any mistakes , forgive me. Also first time writing damian , or any dc chara so sorry if there's anything wrong. enjoy :)

parties , gathering were never your place and neither his. the league had decided to have a gathering of all heroes and as much as you would rather be in your room sleeping , there's free food here.

that's the reason you tell everyone.

If you were being honest , you still weren't gonna come but a certain recent argument with Damian , your oh so understanding boyfriend , had you in a mood of mischief. You wanted to do something to annoy him , as childish as it sounds for someone who has the status of hero , you just had to.

Initially both of you had decided not to go but then just today morning you told him you were going. you laugh when you remember the disbelief that was on his face.

" Fine. Go. " was all he said back then and you thought that would be it. He would be sulking away in his own solitude.

But he came , with that same brooding face which for a moment melted away when he met your eyes , when he saw you looking absolutely gorgeous , but it was quickly replaced by a scowl when he saw you smirking.

You knew how much he hated crowds so having him go through one was utmost peak revenge.

( he has a huge soft spot for you but he wasn't gonna concede so easily. )

He saw you the whole night talking away , laughing with your friends and the strangers that approached you. He saw how everyone hung onto every word you said and get lost in the spark in your eyes , just like he did.

" Trouble in paradise?" Jon said and smirked when Damian ignored him. Jon saw how he was glaring daggers on the people talking to you.

It was simply comical to him how big of a hold you have on Damian. So he decided to just tease. just a little.

" Oh boy did you see the way the guy laughed?? He's totally trying on her. Is it just me or is he inching towards her?? Man you gotta do something or he'll take awa-"

And that was enough to set off Damian as put down his glass on the bar and went striding off to where you were , leaving Jon smirking wide.

You were enjoying your conversation with the new people you met , but you can't lie it was getting tiring now. Your social battery was running out and maybe right now all you need is a quiet corner and him. Just the bliss of his presence.

And thankfully, you were rescued.

Damian came right in the middle of the conversation, put his hand on your lower back gently before looking at everyone else with his usual glare, although you swear you could see the anger in his eyes.

" I apologise but we need to be somewhere. " He said and started directing you away from the crowd but he stopped in between and glanced back at the guy who was hitting on you.

" Back off , 's all I'll say." His voice held a warning that only an idiot would miss and your eyes slightly widened at his outburst.

But when your eyes met with Jon who was reeling from the scenario , you joined the dots.

( OH JACKPOT )

Damian directed you in a quiet corner outside , away from prying eyes and voices. He let go of you and looked off in a distance , his brows furrowed and his upset eyes looking anywhere else but you.

maybe this was too much.

You realised in your childishness you may have actually upset your man.

You gently pulled him by his arm and made him look at you. It was like a little angry puppy looking at you and you could just die from the cuteness aggression.

" Are you mad at me?" you asked with a small smile. He scoffed and looked away again.

" No why would i be?"

" Cause you were jealous."

" I was not. "

" I never took you for the jealous type you know."

" I said i was not jealous."

You laughed and gently held his face in your hands. aww now he really looks like a puppy.

" I'm sorry if i upset you. It wasn't my intention to make you jealous."

" But it was your intention to come to the party."

" That. "

You laughed guiltily and wrapped your arms around his neck.

" Okay yeah obviously that was my intention. But you weren't talking to me at all during missions , and it just made me a bit.... annoyed. So i had to do something to make you talk." you justified, knowing you could have just maturely had a conversation with him about the argument in private.

" ....And annoy you."

you looked down in guilt but then you heard him laughing heartily. You looked up in surprise. The sight not only rare , but it melts you away. It was the most cutest thing ever , the way his face lit up , the way his lips stay in a beautiful smile.

He took a hold of your chin and pulled you close.

" If you wanted attention, "

He kissed your lips slow , his tongue exploring your mouth as his hands went from your chin to your hips , pulling you even more close. You could sense the hint of sass coming as he teased you by gently nibbling on your lower lip. He pulled away , looking at your lips , then your eyes and that shit eating grin on his face.

" You could have just asked. "

reblogs and likes are appreciated :)

#damian wayne x reader #damian wayne x you #damian wayne x y/n #dc x you #dc x reader #batfam x reader #batfam x you

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konigsblog · 5 months

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༉‧₊˚. stepdad!könig thots ...

tw: stepcest, somnophillia, non-con/rape, dumbification, forced self degrading, degrading, cheating, daddy kink, college!reader...

｡*ﾟ+⭒·｡*ﾟ+⭒

note: stepdad!könig drives me crazy :'3

not proofread, pls correct errors or point them out in the cmmts :) comments and reblogs are appreciated !!!

Your stepfather is a cruel, strict man. He expects the best of the best from you. You're his little princess, he hates punishing you, but god, the way his thick cock gets all hard when he see's that pretty, upset expression. Perhaps it's your tears, or perhaps it's the way he fantasies about rutting into you while you're mother is away at work.

He knows he's horrible for it, a total and complete jerk for going behind your mother's back—and yours too. When he see's you asleep on your bed, with textbooks and websites on your computer open for the exam next morning, he can't help but twitch, his breath hitching in his throat at the opportunities infront of him. “Meine Gott...” he chuckles, palming himself through his jeans before taking a step closer.

Through your baggy pjama shorts, he can see your thin, white panties. It drives him crazy, and you have to believe him when he says that it's not just fault—and if anything, it's yours for being so scandalous or promiscuous around a man like him. You're filthy, aren't you?

He slowly pulls your shorts down, taking them off of your unconscious figure. He rubs his weeping tip between your slit over your panties until they're transparent with your sweet cum. “Don't move, prinzessin.” König growls out under his breath, moving your panties to the side to slip his bulbous, wet cock into your tight hole. “Oh, you naughty girl-Hah...” he breathes out, smacking your ass painfully to your surprise.

It shocks you awake, your head stirring, dizzy and confused after waking up from a nap in this setting. König's large hand grips your hair tightly, pushing it down against your book as he begins rutting into you. Not giving you a second to adjust to his size, he begins thrusting erratically. It's painful, burning between your soft thighs at the force of his big dick into your wetness. “Ow—stop--!!” you plead, gripping your bedsheets tightly as he begins going harder, one hand on your hip and pounding into you restlessly.

“Don't try me, Puppe. You've been dreaming of this, ja? Wearing such short shorts and expecting not to be touched like this.” his hand goes underneath your body cupping and grabbing your by the pussy while his thumb runs over your clit, rubbing it in circles. “König—No!” you squirm, panicking as he rams into your cunt over and over again! To say it's not sore is a lie, and you quickly begin to feel lightheaded from the ache between your thighs.

His veiny, hard shaft rubs against your gummy walls. Veins lugging and dragging against your walls while you pulse around him uncontrollably! “Look at you—call yourself a slut, because that's all you are!” he grumbles out, smacking your ass painfully, earning him a broken sob. “I-I'm a slut...”—“For who?” König cuts you off, making you weep harder. It's the way your cunt squeezes and drools around his huge dick, in a way that only drives him crazy.

“You...” it doesn't help that you're so depraved and desperate for praise that you'll do—almost—anything for praise, especially from your stepfather. A guttural chuckle leaves his lips, smacking your ass again, causing it to ache. “That's right, a slut for your daddy. A dumb one, at that.” König makes you shudder and throb around him, repeating his words over and over again as he fucks you raw and dumb.

“A dumb whore for me.” you plead for gentleness, but you're met with a rough and painful—yet deserved—fucking. It's all your worth around your stepfather as he pumps and drives his achingly hard dick into your swollen folds like you're a fleshlight and nothing more than that. Your pussy begins spamming around him, an irresistible urge you can't help. Tears soaked the pages of the textbook infront of you, and your voice is hoarse from a screaming.

“What are you, mäuschen?” König asks as slows down his pace, broad hips meeting your ass, holding it there. “Were you listening? You're a dumb, dumb fucktoy for me to use. Say it.” when he picks up his ruthless pace, you're almost silenced. Raping you like you're worth a penny—not even that. “I'm a dumb fucktoy for you to use...” you say through exhaustion, breathless.

Your orgasm draws closer with each thrust. White, hot, and sticky release pulls you closer and closer to euphoria. That burning, rupturing feeling in your stomach pulling at your orgasm causing you to whine out. “Please, daddy, I just want to cum...” you beg, gasping when König pulls you by your hair, forcing your back to his chest and your back arched. König is hunched over, his lips beside yours as he degrades you. “Go on, work for it.”

You're so numb that you didn't even notice how he'd stopped moving. Bouncing your ass back, a mewl leaving your lips, before you bite your bottom, quivering lip. Your ass aches from his spankings, and you're too far gone to even think of what your mother would think...

Squeezing around his thick, meaty shaft as you fuck yourself back onto his wet cock. You pulse around him, your hands pulled behind your back. You stutter, shuddering as you cream around him, pussy drenched with your cum. You cry out, shaking and trembling. König pushes you down against the bed harshly, pushing you onto your side and lifting your leg up into the air. He ploughs into your raw hole over and over again while you whimper and cry.

White, hot release drips from his cock as he spurts ropes and ropes of his cum into you. Dumping a load into your walls before pulling out. He lets out a low grumble, balls coated in cum and slick. You're half passed out from the aggression forced onto you.

Left with wet cheeks, a sore cunny and your stepfather's thick cum oozing down your thighs.

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greg-montgomery · 7 months

Text

any other world - part 1

Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader - soulmate au

series masterlist

prologue

once again a huge thanks to this angel @criminalskies 🥹🫂🩷

(38)

“Haley, I said no.”

“I don’t understand why you’re so opposed to that name.” She smiled; Aaron assumed it wasn’t a genuine reaction, but more of an attempt to lighten up the mood.

This happened a lot. She’d say something that made him think of you, he’d have a reaction, and she’d pretend she didn’t notice. It broke his heart, but there was nothing he could do about it.

“If you have a different name in mind I’m open to suggestions,” she added, taking his hands in hers.

He leaned in to kiss her. “Just any other name besides Jack. Please.”

“Okay.”

(20)

“Aaron…” you whined, kicking one of the pillows that decorated your bed on the floor. “Be done with it already.”

“My exam is at 8 am. I won’t have any time to revise in the morning. Just give me thirty more minutes.”

“I can’t sleep without you.”

“I know. But if I come to your bed to study, I will not be studying,” he argued, since there was no need of you to say anything for him to get what you were insinuating.

“I’ll just lay my head on your chest. I promise I won’t even talk to you.”

“Fine,” he said, always unable to say no to you; even though your weight on him and your sweet scent would definitely make the letters on his papers start dancing.

But you kept your promise. You carefully laid on him, letting him wrap one of his arms around you. The only thing you did before closing your eyes was kissing the inside of his wrist, just like you did every night.

“Good night.”

“Good night, tulip,” he whispered and turned his attention back to his notes. He’d ace the test and then he’d get to hear the words ‘I’m so proud of you, baby!’ from your sweet lips. Then all the sleepless nights of studying would be worth it.

(21)

That couldn’t be right. There was no way that was right.

H.B.

Aaron would never forget the heartbroken look on your face when you saw those letters. The way your excited smile faded into an expression that went straight through his heart and made it bleed.

He was desperate to comfort you, but how could he find the right words to say when his whole world was crumbling in front of his eyes too? Every single dream, every single plan for the future, every single promise had vanished into thin air.

“These are not my initials,” you said quietly. You were still holding his hand in yours, staring at the new mark on his skin.

“Baby…” he whispered, cupping your cheek.

“No, Aaron,” you said, your eyes slowly filling with tears, “These are not my initials.”

Aaron pulled you into his arms as you broke down crying. You were holding onto him with a strength he didn’t know you had. He rubbed your back, trying to clear up his own thoughts.

How could the girl in his arms not be his soulmate? His best friend, his lover, his partner in everything? You were his family.

“I don’t care,” he whispered in your ear. “I don’t care what the mark says. You’re my soulmate.”

“I’m not,” you sobbed, pulling back so you could sit face to face again.

“You are. You’re the love of my life.”

“Apparently I’m not though,” you raised your voice. He knew you weren’t angry at him, you were angry at life. “God, Aaron, what the fuck? How could we have been so wrong?”

“We haven’t been wrong. I’m not gonna let an unknown fucking force decide who I’m spending my life with. You’re the one I want and I’m staying with you.”

“That’s not how it goes.”

“That’s exactly how it goes.”

You closed your eyes and breathed deeply, the way you always did to calm yourself down.

“Maybe we’re just meant to be friends.”

Aaron grabbed your jaw with his hand and pulled your face close to his, “Tell me when I was inside you earlier making you cry about how good you felt, did it feel like we were meant to be just friends?”

You wrapped your hand around his wrist and removed his hand from your face. “It doesn’t matter how I feel.”

“That’s actually all that matters to me.”

A deep sigh escaped your lips. “What are we going to do, Aaron?”

“I don’t know. We’ll figure it out, as long as we’re together.”

“This isn’t how tonight was supposed to go.”

“I know, my tulip.”

“It’s unfair,” you added, like a kid whose toy was stolen by their sibling.

“I know. But I love you, okay?”

“Okay.”

Aaron was grateful you let him hold you when he pulled you into a warm embrace. But it was impossible to keep the thoughts from running into dark places. Like the clear skin on your own wrist which would be soon stained with initials that weren’t going to be his either.

(21)

It felt like the mark on Haley’s wrist was mocking you.

A.H.

The two letters you had been craving all your life to have them written on your skin, were decorating her wrist instead.

Haley was beautiful, smart, popular. The perfect girl next door.

You and Aaron had met her in high school. She was staring in a school play he was forced to participate in because of a bet he’d lost. You got along with her pretty well, and so did Aaron.

Back then you weren’t worried over the way they both used to geek over Star Wars – which you simply couldn’t get into, no matter how hard Aaron had tried to make you love – during rehearsals. You weren’t worried when he’d invited her to his birthday party that year and you had noticed her eyes sparkle when he had played his favorite Beatles’ song.

Back then none of that mattered. Because back then, Aaron was your soulmate.

Yet you still couldn't hate Haley, because she was in pain too.

Her birthday only a month after Aaron’s had confirmed your suspicions that his soulmate was her. And you could relate to her heartbreak, when Aaron had to break the news to her. When he informed her that no matter what their wrists said, he was choosing you instead.

Neither of you truly had him, and in that way you understood her.

(21)

“Here.” You placed the hot cup of coffee you’d made for Aaron, next to his book.

“Thank you, honey,” he said, reaching out his hand to touch your waist under your shirt. With that motion he pulled you close to him, so you were standing right in front of his chair.

He wrapped his arms around you and your own hands got lost between his hair. Aaron left a tiny kiss on your stomach and looked up at you. “I’m anxious.”

“You’re going to do great. You’ve been studying non-stop for days now.”

“I don’t feel like I’m doing enough,” he admitted.

“You’re always so hard on yourself.” Your thumb rubbed the short hair on his temples as you kissed the tip of his nose. The nose kiss was followed by a soft one on his lips, before you pulled away again. “You’re doing more than enough. And I’m so proud of you.”

His dimples made an appearance and your heart smiled at your success. “There’s my boy.”

“Shut up,” he laughed, rolling his eyes. You could just pinch his cheeks every time you made him shy.

“Do you want me to help? We can go through some questions together. I’ll ask, you’ll answer.”

“Yeah,” he said, looking through his notes. “Haley gave me-”

At the realization of saying her name, he paused.

“It’s okay, you can mention her around me, I’m not gonna break,” you said, hoping you successfully hid the fact that you were annoyed.

He cleared his throat and continued. “Her cousin took the same exams last year, so she gave me his notes. He has written down all the questions that were on the test.”

“Good then. Let’s get to work.”

(45)

“Good night, buddy,” he whispered, leaving a sweet kiss on his son’s forehead. Jack usually replied with a ‘Good night, daddy,’ but he was already fast asleep.

As Aaron made his way to the living room in order to clear up the floor from his son’s toys, he heard a knock on his door.

He walked towards it as silently as he could, and looked through the peep hole; the fear of a possible intruder still poisoning his blood.

But the face he saw on the other side of the door took his breath away.

A face he hadn’t seen in years. A face he saw every night in his sleep.

He didn’t let a second more to pass before opening his door.

“Y/N?” he said in a breath.

Your eyes were red, and full of tears. “I didn’t know where else to go.”

tag list: @magical-spit @lilsunshine1092 @hiraethrhapsody @cult-of-enji-todoroki @emo-markie

#aaron hotchner #hotch #aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #hotch 🪐#any other world

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theorphicangel · 3 months

Text

𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐧𝐨 𝐜𝐢𝐫𝐜𝐮𝐦𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬. | 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨’𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Synopsis: It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single, brooding man in possession of a good future in genetics, must be in want of a girlfriend.

Or at least a fake one to get his family off his back.

(college au & fake dating trope ft my favourite grumpy man who doesn't fall first but ends up falling harder. ouch.)

ao3

series | next chapter

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐞: 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝…𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐬𝐞?

You’re running late.

But then again…is there ever a day when you’re not running late?

It’s hard to differentiate whether it’s due to the fact that you left all your pre-reading till the last minute or if your alarm forgot to go off or if it was due to you oversleeping for an additional thirty minutes because your roommate had dragged you out last night for the fourth freshers party of the week.

Either way, you’re running late. Your bag is frantically packed with notebooks and random essentials, your laptop is less than half-charged and your socks are mismatched. It’s not the best start that you had imagined for your first week of lectures but as you glance at digits in the corner of your phone, you figure that you don’t even have the time to complain.

The campus is still relatively new to you, and also fucking huge. Groups of people swarm around like insects, trying to find their way around to their own lecture. Glancing down at the map app currently open on your phone, a frown reaches your brows.

It seems like you’re still so far away from the humanities block which is on the other side of campus.

You scroll down, pausing your steps to look for another route. If only there was….

‘Want a shortcut? Press here.’

“Yes fucking please.” you mutter to yourself, clicking the bold button absentmindedly.

—

The muffled sound of a robotic voice announcing your destination perks up your mood entirely as you reach the lecture doors of 202. You made it with just about five minutes to spare and you’ve never felt prouder, not even during all those times when you’ve forgotten to study for exams but had luckily gotten away with pretty decent grades.

Entering the hall, you find most seats are taken, nearly all the rows are unavailable. Scanning around desperately, you find a seat near the back next to a guy mindlessly scrolling on his phone. Hastily, you walk to your desired seat before the rest of the row fills up, and you find that as soon as you have taken your seat, there’s no spare seats left at all.

Taking a deep breath, your anxiety now sits comfortably in the pit of your stomach.

This is how college was supposed to go.

Prepared, calm and on time. You’re so relaxed right now that you’re not even slightly bothered about the percentage of your laptop when you slide it open in front of you, knowing that you have your notebooks in your bag if needed. You take a quick sip of water before the lecture begins and soon all conversations in the room seem to die away slowly.

Those unlucky enough to have found a seat, have to settle with sitting on the steps of the lecture hall. A silent sigh of relief that you are not a part of that majority runs through your body. God, you forget that literature was so oversubscribed.

A hushed silence takes over the room and a steady grin creeps at the corner of your lips as you wait for the professor to start.

“Good morning all, it is nice to see you all bright and early for the first genetics lecture of the year. I know some of you had to clear up clashes with microbiology this morning which may be the reason why we are so oversubscribed today, but we’ll make do, there’s plenty of room for everyone.”

Remember that eager, excited smile that you just had a few moments ago? Yeah, well it just died and here was the funeral. You blink in confusion as the words of the lecture settles into your brain.

Genetics? Microbiology? What the fuck was this professor talking about?

The lecturer drones on at the front of the hall, her voice echoing. “For those of you who don't know already, I'm professor Dr. Michaleson and I’ll be your genetics lecturer for the remainder of the year.”

Oh no. Oh fuck no. Oh hell no.

You look around, scanning the wide room to already see people begin to type away at their laptops. No one else in the room seems to be as confused as you are right now and it’s concerning. Reaching into your coat pocket, you open up your maps app checking your location.

Shit.

You’ve found yourself in the general medical sciences block, not arts and humanities. Zooming in further you find that the humanities block is direct from the building that you’re in right now.

If there was a moment for you to have a breakdown, it would be right now. All of your panicking and frantic packing that you had gone through this morning has now gone completely to waste because you’re not even in the right fucking lecture hall.

You turn towards the person on your left but notice that they’re rapidly typing away as the lecturer proceeds to run over the future modules for the course. Not wanting to bother her, you decide to glance towards your right, to the guy who was once mindlessly scrolling on his phone who has now replaced it with his very own laptop but…he’s not typing away yet.

So you take your chances.

“Hey.” you whisper, trying to keep your panic out of your voice. You lean over a little so that he can hear you.

The man frowns a little, looking towards you.

“What?” His tone is soft like yours, quiet so as not to disrupt other people but you can’t help but notice the annoyed intonation in his voice.

“What lecture are we in right now?” you subtly prompt, quickly noticing the crease between the eyebrows of the stranger sitting next to you. His nose curves up in distaste as if you’ve just asked him whether he thinks the earth is round or flat.

“Please, just answer my question.” you plead gently, reading his expression.

You know he probably takes you for an idiot right now but you just need confirmation so that,

One: You hadn’t just misheard and this was definitely a genetics lecture

And two: If it was a genetic lecture this officially gives your body the right to go into full panic mode right now.

The guy lets out a light sigh before answering, “We’re in genetics right now.”

“Fuck!”

A few heads in the row in front of your glance back at the sound and automatically your cheeks burn up out of embarrassment.

“Why are you asking?” the man sitting beside you questions.

You hesitate in giving your answer, embarrassed that you had messed up one of the most basic rules of things not to do at university. Now it’s your turn to let out a beaten down sigh.

“I–”

“You’re in the wrong lecture, aren’t you?” the stranger estimates. Clearly based on your mixed expression of disappointment and panic.

You nod silently, rubbing your hands across your face. Internally, you wished that you could go back in time. Back to before you had entered this stupid lecture room, double checking the location or at least had the chance run out before the lecture had started.

“What are you supposed to be in?”

“English Literature.”

The man sitting beside you stifles a laugh and again, a number of heads back to look at the two of you in frustration. He attempts to cover it up with a cough and you notice the way that his cheeks slowly turn to a dusty shade of pink.

“Por dios, what are you doing here?” he whispers. And again you don’t miss the tone of irritation in his voice.

“I–I think I got lost.” you stammer quietly, looking down at your phone. “I’m supposed to be here.” you point at a spot on your phone as you show him. “But I got it messed up.”

“It’s across from this building?”

You nod begrudgingly, before shutting off your phone and laying your head down on the table in surrender.

You stay down for a minute before perking back up. The lecturer is still droning on about god knows what and the man beside you begins to take notes.

Leaning over, you whisper another question.

“How long is this lecture?”

“Two hours.”

Yep, you were screwed.

And it wasn’t like you could get up and leave. Well, you could, but that would mean drawing all the attention from half of the people in the room, disrupting them and causing your entire row to stand up so that you could leave. You think that you’d rather die than be that person.

The man beside you says nothing more, choosing to ignore you and your situation as he types away along with the rest of the people in the hall.

Looks like you have no choice but to buckle yourself in for this ride.

—

Two hours later, you find yourself on level 12 of the world’s hardest game, still without any new literature knowledge but now have a deep insight into what the genetics modules will look like for the next three years as well as having a deep insightful knowledge about prokaryotic and eukaryotic organisms.

That’ll be some useful trivia some day at least.

You sit back watching everyone else pack away. The man beside you glances towards you briefly, he’s packed away too, now waiting for the people in your row to start filing out.

“Thinking about drastically changing your degree to biological sciences?” he asks, a smirk on his face.

You snort as you pack away your laptop, which surprisingly managed to survive the whole lecture.

“I fucking wish.”

“How about next time you check that you’re actually in the right block before stepping into a lecture hall?”

You barely know this man and yet you can feel his judgment, not just now but throughout the whole lecture you’ve felt his continuous side-eye as you died for the 400th time in your game.

“Will do.” you note, hoping to cut this conversation short. “Looks like I’ve got a literature lecture to catch up on.” you mumble to yourself as you begin to walk away, filing out of your row and heading to the doors.

“You what? Ended up at the wrong lecture hall?!”

Burying your head onto your arms, you groan aloud as a non-committal response. Your college roommate and new friend, Lyla, laughs out loud which unfortunately attracts eyes from around the cafe.

You groan, this being the second time that your face has burnt up this morning. “Please don’t make my misery any louder ly’ ”

She wipes at the corner of her eyes, adjusting her glasses. “I'm sorry, m’sorry.” She chokes, spluttering her hot chocolate. “But could you go through exactly what it was that you did again?”

You perk up your head on the table, keeping your eyelids shut. A mumble escapes from your lips.

Lyla cups her ears, teasing you unabashedly. “What was that?”

“Iendedupinageneticslecture.”

“What?”

“I ended up in a genetics lecture!”

And if you thought that her first laugh had been loud enough for the tables near you to hear, her second laugh practically caused the entire cafe to turn their eyes on you.

“This is all your fault by the way.” You pick up your cup of hot coffee and as if your day couldn’t get any worse, you’ve managed to burn your tongue and now you wonder whether there’s any point whatsoever in living on this sadistic earth.

Lyla points at herself, “Me? What did I do?!”

If you–” you lower your voice, cautious of multiple eyes staring at your table. “If you didn’t drag me out last night then maybe I wouldn’t have been so sleep deprived that I could have actually gotten to my proper lecture.”

Lyla snorts, waving her hands around. “Oh, please! Didn’t I get you that number off that guy you liked? Matt, was it?”

“Tom.”

“Right, whatever.” she says, picking up her cup and dipping her tongue into the generous amount of whipped cream and marshmallows that cover her hot chocolate. You stare at your own order in distaste, deeply wishing that you had gotten one too.

The next two weeks following your god awful mishap, you were fine.

From now on you and Lyla had a pact.

No more nights out.

Only up until the halloween season.

With your reading classes and her technology lectures, the two of you found each other up to your necks in assignments and essays along with being forced to help out with Lyla’s little coding club maintenance.

Thankfully you’ve managed to maintain some sort of routine, attending most – if not all – of your lectures both on time and double checking that you were in the right ones. You’ve made a few friends here or there at social events and finally found a job as a barista at the same cafe where Lyla gets her favorite hot chocolate from – and you must admit that they are pretty great.

All in all, college is going pretty great.

You think.

It’s going well in terms that you’ve managed to dodge every single phone call from your mom ever since you got here. Weekly, you’ve been coming up with good excuses and you don’t think that she’s caught on. Yet.

It was something that you had expected to happen once you made the decision to move away, I mean it was only fair, her only child leaving the bird’s nest, what else is she supposed to do?

You did feel guilty, of course you did. You hate lying to your mom but having her call every five minutes is not the reputation that you want to set up for yourself.

You’ll call her at the end of the week.

You swear on it.

- ‘Sorry, I’m in the library right now mom, I’ll call you back later okay? Love you <3’

Sent: 5:34pm

Setting your phone on ‘Do Not Disturb’, you place it next to your laptop, your playlist resuming through your headphones.

Another thing that you were also proud of yourself, was getting in regular study periods in preparation for midterms. Your old self would have been procrastinating right up until the night before the exam but now? You’ve matured. You’ve changed your ways for the better and by getting in some pre-reading of essays and books, you know that you’ll be thanking your future self in the long run if you keep up this mindset.

And this mindset is a great mindset…as long as you don’t get distracted.

You lasted ten minutes.

You had barely gotten through the second page before your attention was taken somewhere else and by somewhere else you mean somebody else. And this particular somebody reminds you of a moment that you are trying so hard to forget. Which is impossible to do when he had just so coincidentally pulled up a chair next to you.

It was him. The guy who you sat next to in the one lecture that we don’t talk about for certain implicit reasons.

On recognising his face, you hope that he doesn’t recognise you. He pulls up a chair beside you, not truly noticing you are until he glances up. You can already sense what he’s about to say. Taking off your headphones you go to speak but he suddenly cuts you off.

“I’m surprised that you didn’t mistake the janitor’s closet for the library then.”

“Oh, you’re funny.” you deadpan.

“I try to be.” he quips, the corners of his lips tilting upright.

Now that your body is not in fight or flight mode, you get a chance to take in this stranger. He’s…attractive. Conventionally. Tall. Awkwardly tall. Looks like one of those gym junkies or you guess that he actually is one based on those muscles on him. And those model cheekbones and naturally tanned skin and bushy eyebrows and soft lips–

“Do I have something on my face or are you just eyeballing me?”

“Neither.” you say, a little too quick for your judgment.

“There’s no shame in admitting the latter.” He prompts, a playful tone in his voice.

“You’re a little bit cocky don’t you think?”

This stranger leans back into his chair a little, raising a brow before dismissing your statement.

“I would disagree.”

“Of course you would, you’re a STEM student.”

The stranger huffs, glancing at you up and down. “At least I’m guaranteed a job as soon as I’m out of here.” He remarks, rummaging through his bag. “Good luck in getting out of your student debt with–” he squints over to one of the closed novels by your side. “Whatever book that you have over there.”

“You mean pride and prejudice?”

He simply shrugs, choosing to ignore you as he pulls out a huge textbook and his laptop.

Your eyes glimpse the front cover, reading ‘Biological Sciences.’ Your face turns to distaste at the thought of having to read that through your own free will.

“Have you read Pride and Prejudice?” you ask, trying to maintain a friendly unbiased tone.

“Never have and never will.”

“You’re missing out.”

“On what?” he scoffs, flicking a page of his massive textbook. It hurts your brain to even think about how much that would even cost. “A bunch of rich upper class Englishmen complain about their problems for a whole 300 pages?”

“Firstly,” you note, slightly offended. “That’s not what happens. Secondly, it’s 400 pages but it’s debatable depending on what version you buy. But when you suddenly get a gun cocked to your head with someone asking you to quote the first line from Pride and Prejudice one day, you’ll be regretting this conversation.”

“I highly doubt that’s even a probable situation.”

“There’s always a few anomalies lying around.” You shrug absentmindedly, flicking through your own novel which you had to complete reading for this week.

“Rarely.”

“But often enough to catch you off-guard.”

This…stranger lets out a sigh heavily through his nose, a sign of which you know means ‘please shut the fuck up.’ He ignores you for the nth time, eyes slightly squinting as he scrolls down, closely reading an article.

That’s it. You’ve lost your concentration. He’s ruined your mood and your mindset.

You begin to pack away, huffing as you place your novel in your bag. You’ll have to get started when you get home it seems.

“Don’t let me spoil your 19th century fun.” he murmurs, scrolling further down on the article.

“I’m going somewhere else, so that I won’t be bothered with your stupid microbiology shit.”

The man huffs, barely acknowledging you as you stand. “Good luck finding another free spot because this place is packed.”

“I’m heading home actually.” you quip, zipping up your bag after placing all your materials.

“Make sure that you don’t accidentally end up in someone else’s dorm–”

“Hilarious.”

You walk away before he can poke another joke at you. Once again, mocking you and you barely know his first name.

You kinda hope you never see him again. Partly because he’s an annoying STEM student but mostly because he reminds you of the excruciating pain that you went through by sitting in a genetics lecture for two hours without a single break.

Key word: kinda.

Reblogs are much appreciated!

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321 notes · View notes

jjungkookislife · 27 days

Text

Love on the Rocks

pairing: hfth!jungkook x f. reader

genre: established relationship, college au, 18+

summary: Thanks to Grandmother Jeon, your friends join you for Spring Break.

wc: 3.6k

warnings: alcohol use/mention, grumpy!koo, mention of a quickie, mention of condoms, food mention, implied smut

a/n: support banner made by @benkeibear

date: March 23, 2024

║part one║║part two║║series masterlist║

Jungkook groaned when you shook him awake. He tugged his pillow over his head, hoping that would let you know he was still exhausted.

Midterms had ended yesterday, on Friday in the morning. You had the rest of the day to pack your bags and head to his place for a sleepover.

Turns out, Grandmother Jeon had hit it big on the slots and purchased all your friends' plane tickets and rooms at the same resort you’d be at with Jungkook, her, and Grandmother Park.

You were excited to hit the poolside and relax. You had a large hat and huge sunglasses packed, bottles and bottles of sunblock, and a hot boyfriend at your side. You were beyond ready to relax after such an intense week of exams and stress.

Jimin and Hoseok were already up. You could hear them making coffee and breakfast in Jungkook’s kitchen. Hoseok had slept on the couch after helping you pick your outfits for the trip. He slept over to help Jungkook with his outfits and to get a ride to the airport.

Grandmother Jeon had arranged a limousine to pick up the eight of you and you had about an hour and a half to get your sleeping boyfriend up, have breakfast, and get Namjoon, Seokjin, Yoongi, and Taehyung up.

“Baby,” Jungkook groans as you straddle him. Your hands are warm on his bare shoulders as you rub them. He moans when you knead a knot near his neck. “No fair.”

“Come on, Kook,” you whine.

“Don’t you want to sleep some more, baby?” Jungkook knows you normally sleep in. You’re often the grumpy one in the mornings.

Except for today, apparently.

“We have a schedule!” you remind him, kissing the spot between his shoulder blades. Jungkook turns, flipping on his back and ignoring the pillow that falls off his face and onto his bedroom floor.

“Do we have time for a quickie?” Jungkook wiggles his brows as he grabs your hips. You bite your bottom lip as he moves you onto his hard cock.

“I know you two aren’t fucking in there when the six of us are out here waiting on you!” Seokjin’s voice comes from the other side of Jungkook’s bedroom door.

“Go away!” Jungkook shouts in response, groaning when you climb off him.

“We’re going!” You shout back as you grab your phone charger, earbuds, and a kitty Squishmallow.

Jungkook stares at the ceiling, cursing.

Of all days to get cockblocked.

Once breakfast is over and done with, you gather all your friends in the living room. You have a list in your hand that you made for yourself in your notebook with the little rabbit on the cover.

“Phone chargers?” you start, making all your friends and your adorable sleepy boyfriend, show you their phone chargers and pack them. “Earbuds? Underwear? Swimsuits? Sunblock? Sunglasses? Condoms?”

The men freeze and stare at you.

You roll your eyes. “Come on, condoms?”

Taehyung smirks as he opens one of his carry-on bags. You peek inside and gasp as Tae cackles and shuts the backpack.

“Uh, looks like Taehyung’s got everyone covered,” you whisper, ignoring the rush of heat to your face.

Taehyung grins proudly.

“First aid kit? Toiletries? Snacks? Earplugs?” you continue reading down your list, making sure you check everyone has their plane tickets, bags, and passports by the time the limousine pulls up.

Your luggage has to go in a separate car provided by Grandmother Jeon and you’re grateful you can sit back and relax on your way to the airport.

Once you arrive at your gate (to confirm it exists), your friends run wild as they split up, heading in different directions for snacks and souvenirs.

Your boyfriend starts to head toward the snack shop with Yoongi and Namjoon but stops when he realizes he’s left you standing looking at the screen for your flight.

“Love?” Jungkook asks as he approaches you.

“Go on, Kook,” you encourage him. “I’m gonna find a bathroom and do my makeup.”

“Okay,” Jungkook nods. “See you in a few?”

You nod, kissing his cheek before heading in opposite directions.

By the time you meet up, Jungkook and your friends have taken up two sections of seats while boarding begins. After a quick headcount, you relax when you have all your friends in one place.

Yoongi is on his phone, one earbud in his ear and the other Namjoon has as he sleeps on his shoulder. Seokjin and Taehyung share snacks, while Jimin sips his coffee and scrolls through his timeline. Hoseok eats a bag of gummy bears while waiting for the flight to start boarding, smiling when the first group is called.

You rise, dragging Jungkook with you as Yoongi wakes Namjoon.

Smiling, you greet the woman at the counter. You take out your plane tickets, standing beside her as Yoongi and Namjoon get their tickets scanned, then Jimin, Taehyung, Hoseok, and Seokjin, and finally you and Jungkook.

“Thank you so much,” you say as you follow Seokjin with Jungkook behind you. You wanted to make this trip as effortless as possible and you may have a little anxiety of making things difficult for workers when you didn’t have to. You didn’t want any of your friends to have their phones die and not have access to their tickets, nor did you want them to have their data fail or lose service or anything that could make this trip unfavorable.

The eight of you take up three rows of seats. There’s an empty aisle seat beside Jungkook as you take your window seat.

In front of you, Namjoon looks out the window, while Hoseok and Yoongi watch a video. Across the aisle from them, Jimin, Taehyung, and Seokjin are eating snacks, and deciding who gets what.

The fight will be a few hours long, but you’re hoping to nap for most of it. Namjoon is already half asleep as the plane continues to board.

Jungkook laces his fingers with yours. “Our first flight together.”

You smile, kissing his cheek as he takes his phone and earbuds from his hoodie pockets. He hands you an earbud, “I made us a playlist.”

“You’re so sweet,” you grin, taking the earbud from him.

Jungkook holds your hand, smiling when you scroll through the playlist to see all your favorites. Any time you’d hear a song on the radio, you’d smile at him and say “This is our song,” so he made it so.

The people finish boarding, and the flight attendants shut the door. You yawn as you rest your head on Jungkook, nearly asleep when the lights dim after the safety instructions.

Before you know it, Jungkook is shaking you awake gently. The plane is about to land, and your eyes adjust to the lights.

“Make sure you have all your stuff,” Jungkook reminds you gently as he puts his belongings away as the plane begins its descent.

Thankfully, the landing is smoother than you could ever imagine and after a few more minutes, you’re off the plane and inside the airport.

“Bathroom break and snacks?” You ask your friends as you head toward baggage claim. You know the closest bathroom will be less busy as the rest of the passengers wait to get off the aircraft so you rush toward it leaving your boyfriend and his friends behind.

Soon, you’re heading to the baggage claim area with everyone in tow. You almost feel like a tour guide, leading them to the correct carousel to wait for your luggage.

A man is holding a sign that reads, Jeons.

“Um, is that for you?” You ask Jungkook as you point to the man.

Jungkook shrugs but is distracted by a loud commotion at the carousel behind you.

“My baby!” A familiar voice fills the space as Minji rushes toward you.

Luna barks from her bag, not a fan of the sudden bustling.

“Minji!” You exclaim as you’re wrapped up in a tight hug by Jungkook’s grandmother.

“I’m so glad we arrived at the same time. You know I really do hate flying with Luna on board. It gives me the nerves and all that knowing she doesn’t like it. Oh, here’s one of the drivers. He’ll get the bags with his partner once you get them off the carousel.”

“Grandmother,” Jungkook says, brow raised. “Not gonna say hi?”

“Oh!” Minji releases you to hug her grandson as another squeal sounds behind you. Only this time it’s directed at Jimin before he’s wrapped up in a hug so tight, he struggles to breathe.

Yoongi chuckles with Hoseok as Namjoon and Seokjin grab the bags, pushing them to the side as Taehyung counts them to confirm they’ve all arrived.

“Can’t breathe,” Jimin finally whines as his grandmother eases up on her hold.

“I’m sorry, Minnie. I missed you so much,” Grandmother Park says.

“Come on, let’s get going. I’m hungry and Luna could use a nap,” Minji says as she directs you toward the waiting cars. Your luggage gets packed in one and the group splits up in two to get to the resort.

It takes a while to check in and pass out key cards.

Minji and Grandmother Park, Sujin, as she’d asked you to call her, were excited to check out their room.

“We are on the first floor,” Minji informs your boyfriend as she holds Luna’s carrier close to her chest. Though the two grandmothers had a place nearby, it was going through renovations and the two decided to stay in the same resort as the grandchildren.

“Wouldn’t you rather be on the same floor as us?” Jimin asks the grandmothers.

The two women exchange a look before they burst out laughing.

“No offense kids,” Sujin giggles. “But you’ll cramp our style.”

Taehyung chuckles as he helps with their luggage; Jimin guffaws.

“How?!” He pouts as he follows his grandmother into the room.

“I can’t be cruising for men when my cherubic grandson is hovering around, now can I?” Sujin sighs as she sits on the corner of her bed.

“Same,” Minji comments as she opens the drawer to put her clothes up.

“Gee, I didn’t know we were so uncool,” Jungkook whispers.

Seokjin laughs as he heads back into the hall. “We’ll keep our distance.”

“Call if you get into trouble,” Minji states with a firm look, eyeing every one of you.

“We will,” Jimin promises before he leads everyone out of the room.

The eight of you split into groups with your luggage as you hit the button for the seventh floor.

You and Jungkook are sharing a room. Across the hall, Jimin and Taehyung will share a room. Further down the hall near the elevator, Hoseok and Yoongi will share a room, and across from them will be Seokjin and Namjoon.

“Let’s rest and settle in before we grab lunch,” Hoseok suggests as he drags Yoongi toward their room.

Jungkook takes your hand as he drags his large suitcase in one hand and his bag hangs off his right shoulder.

You drag your suitcase behind you while your bag collides with your hip at every step. You’re still tired from the early morning and flight but you want to check out the resort and have a good meal.

Forty-five minutes later, you’re sitting poolside with a fruit bowl on your lap.

Jungkook lies behind you with his legs spread while you rest your back on his chest. He’s shirtless, enjoying the sun for a little longer before you make him put the umbrella up. As much as you loved the weather, it was too toasty.

Besides, you had wanted to eat before your hands got smeared with sunblock.

On the chair next to yours and Jungkook’s, Jimin and Hoseok have thrown their towels, snacks, lotions, sunglasses and who knows what else. They were already rambunctious with Namjoon, Hoseok, and Taehyung in the pool.

To your right, Yoongi read a book while tucked under an umbrella. You knew it wouldn’t be long until he dozed off and you had to save his place with his kitten bookmark and dab some sunblock on his nose.

“Open,” you instruct Jungkook as you press a strawberry to his lips. He obeys easily, biting down before moving his head back to chew. You giggle when you finish the strawberry and offer him a cube of watermelon next.

“If I knew the two of you would be this disgusting, I would have gone with everyone else,” Yoongi huffs but his gaze holds no malice just teasing.

“Aw, want me to feed you, little kitty?” You tease in your best high-pitched voice reserved for talking to babies and cute little things, including one Min Yoongi with his kitten bookmark.

“Yeah, I’m out of here,” Yoongi shuts his book and heads for the bar.

Jungkook chuckles before he kisses your shoulder, his arms wrap around your waist.

“Mm, glad you’re here,” He whispers into your skin. He trails a few kisses across your shoulders as his hands squeeze your hips. “Though I wish we could sneak upstairs for a bit.”

You giggle, “We just got out of the shower in time to meet everyone.”

“They won’t even notice if we’re gone for a few,” Jungkook jokes as he takes the grape from your fingers with a tiny roar.

Fuck, he’s adorable.

“Let’s just put the umbrella up and finish our fruit,” You say as you pat his thigh and he scrambles out of the chair to do as you’ve asked.

“Already got him working?” Minji asks as she walks toward you with Sujin in tow. Both wear large floppy sun hats, oversized leopard print sunglasses, and bright one-piece bathing suits (teal for Minji and yellow for Sujin) with matching coverups.

“You know it,” you grin as the umbrella goes up and Jungkook rushes to open the one for Minji and Sujin.

“What a good boy,” Sujin coos at Jungkook, who blushes and murmurs thanks before sitting beside you.

Sujin looks at the pool to see Jimin splashing Taehyung with a water gun and cackling as he swims away. “Unlike my grandson! Who hasn’t stopped by to say hello!”

Jimin’s eyes widen as his friends chuckle behind him. He gets out of the pool with a sheepish grin.

“Grandma,” Jimin pouts. Sujin smiles and hands him a bottle of sunblock. “Get my shoulders.”

Jimin nods as he opens the sunblock and moves behind Sujin. Seokjin smirks from the pool as he picks up Jimin’s water gun and chases Taehyung.

Namjoon does a lap on the opposite end, racing Hoseok before Taehyung interrupts with his screaming.

Jungkook takes the sunblock and puts some on Minji as you grab a drink of water from the table beside you.

“How’s it going?” You ask as you put your sunglasses on. It’s definitely getting hotter.

Jungkook hums as he races Jimin, wanting to be the first to finish so he can get back to you.

“Pretty good,” Sujin answers as she swats Jimin’s hand. “Easy, I’m fragile.”

“Sorry,” Jimin whispers.

“Oh, hot grandpa alert!” Minji chirps, swatting Jungkook’s hands off her. “Go find something to do, kids! You’re cramping our style!”

“We’re cramping your style?” Jimin guffaws as he drops the sunblock at the same time as Jungkook.

“Ooh, he’s got a friend,” Sujin smiles as she gets up from her seat, taking Minji with her.

“I guess we’re on our own for dinner,” Jungkook chuckles as he watches his grandmother introduce herself to the two men Sujin spotted.

“Looks like Minji is the life of the party wherever she goes,” you giggle as you take Jungkook’s hand to lead him to the pool. He goes easily, kissing you once you’re both in.

“Hey! None of that couple stuff on vacation!” Taehyung shouts from across the pool.

“Yeah,” Seokjin agrees as he sprays you two with the water gun. “You did that on our last vacation!”

Jungkook rolls his eyes. “The last vacation is why you’re on this vacation!”

Namjoon smiles. “Fair enough.”

Sleep clings to your eyes as you feel warmth on your chest. You’ve tried your best to wake up early but after dinner the eight of you went to bed early and slept, the day’s travel and afternoon being too much on your bodies.

Now, you could decipher it was your boyfriend making you warm as his arm draped around your middle and his fluffy hair splayed on your bare chest.

After a shower and a lazy nighttime routine; the two of you had gone to bed naked, too tired to dig through your suitcases for clothes.

The clock on the wall showed it was just after 12:30 pm and you stifled a yawn.

“No wake,” Jungkook grumbles in his sleepy voice and you smile. You run your fingers through his hair, singing to him softly.

“We can stay in bed all day,” you promise him but he rouses, pouting.

“But then our friends will come barging in,” he frowns because yes, that is what usually ends up happening.

“We can ignore them,” you grin as you continue to play with his hair. He hums as he closes his eyes once again.

The next time you wake up, it’s an hour later and Jungkook is kissing you awake.

He’s in a much brighter mood now that he's gotten enough sleep.

“Jungkook!” You laugh when he kisses your lips messily. “I haven’t brushed.”

“I don’t care,” he giggles as he kisses you again, this time deeper as his hand cups your cheek. “Just want you.”

The next few days are a whirlwind of lovemaking, hanging out with the guys at the pool, group dinner, and trying not to cramp the Grandmother’s style.

You’ve spent most of the afternoon in the pool with your friends and Minji.

A romantic dinner with your boyfriend has just ended with dessert and flutes of champagne.

Minji, Sujin, and their dates for the night are at a table as far away from you as possible.

When you had first set foot at the restaurant, Minji had made a point to hide behind her menu. It’s not like you and Jimin had helped them get ready or anything but Minji admitted she was a little shy when it came to dating with Jungkook close by.

Minji wasn’t looking for commitment. She wanted fun and adventure, and nobody could ever replace Jungkook’s grandfather, so she didn’t even want to try. She was happy with her life, with Luna, her grandkids, and her best friend. She had it all (according to her), so you'd stay out of her business.

Slow music plays from the stage. The singer is crooning as couples get up to dance.

You spot Minji and her dinner date dancing across the dance floor, smiling at each other.

“Want to dance?” Jungkook asks after watching you for a moment. He knew you were admiring the couples on the floor.

“Oh, I don’t know how,” you say sheepishly.

“It’s okay,” Jungkook assures you as he rises from his seat. He pulls your chair out and takes your hand to help you up.

“I’m not so sure about this,” you whisper as he guides you to the dance floor. He takes your hand in his and the other rests on your waist.

You place your hand on his shoulder and the two of you gently sway to the music.

“You’re doing great,” he encourages you as he pulls you closer.

“I love you,” you tell him as you look into his eyes. A small smile appears on his lips as he kisses you. His lip rings are cold when they press against your lips, a soft moan escaping him.

“I love you,” Jungkook said once you parted. The two of you continue to sway as the song ends.

“Walk with me?” Jungkook suggests and you agree easily.

The two of you head out the door, smiling at each other as you make your way through the resort until you reach the beach.

Jungkook holds your hand in his as you walk along the shore. The sky is filled with sparkling stars but they have nothing against the ones in Jungkook’s eyes.

The waves crash loudly as you approach the shore. Your bare feet sink into the wet sand and you’re glad Hoseok picked out a shorter dress for this.

“I don’t want to go back home,” you pout as you come to a stop. The waves lick at your feet as Jungkook wraps his arms around you. He places his head on your shoulder as he looks at the water.

“Me either,” he admits. He takes a second to kiss your shoulder and then your cheek. “It’s been nice having you to myself.”

You giggle, turning your head to kiss him on the cheek. “You’re greedy, Jeon!”

“Maybe a little,” he shrugs before he faces you. “But it’s only because I love you so much.”

Your heart melts into a puddle of ooey gooey love for the man with the cute bunny nose.

“I love you too, Jungkook. More than you can ever imagine,” you whisper as he cups your face gently in his hands. You grip his shirt tight as he kisses you, slowly deepening the kiss until you moan.

With a soft smile, Jungkook presses his forehead to yours. Neither of you speaks as you gaze into each other’s eyes.

“You’re the only one for me,” Jungkook swears as he leans in to kiss you again.

The waves continue crashing as you fall deeper in love with him, wishing this moment never had to end.

#jungkook fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook drabble #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook fluff #jungkook fic #jungkook x y/n #hfth!jungkook #fic: hfth #home for the holidays drabble #hfth drabble

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reivrze · 11 months

Text

OH, SAY IT DITTO ♡

pairing. popular!jungwon x shy!reader

genre. highschool!au, fluff, reader has a huge crush on jungwon

word count. 0.8k

warning. none

a/n. this was inspired by the song "ditto" by new jeans :) the ending was kinda rushed lmao sorry, hope you guys enjoy ! reposts are immensely appreciated as they help my works get recommended, reblogs help the algorithms so thank you for all those who take time to repost my work ♡

exam season had come around at a rapid pace, and your free days now consisted of little solo dates at the library going over the notes you had taken in class. this morning was like every wednesday morning except your first two classes had been cancelled, and you had decided to take a little trip down to the library to occupy your free time.

as you entered the library, you greeted the woman sitting at the front desk, having been here so many times in the past few weeks that you had gotten to know several of the staff. getting closer to your usual table, you stopped suddenly seeing an unfamiliar presence sitting in your chair. trying to get a closer look, you sneaked behind the bookshelves, peeking out to see who was the mysterious person. your face flushed a bright red the minute you realized that the person was no one other than yang jungwon. the boy you had been admiring for the past ten years.

you had first met jungwon went you were eight in elementary. he had been the new kid, causing quite a stir amongst the students, his extroverted and hypersocial personality gaining him new friends almost every day. his arrival had awoken something new, he had given you your first experience of having a crush and boy did you not expect this crush to stick for as long as it had. how could you not fall in love with someone with such a boy-ish vibe and adorable smile ?

now here you are, staring at him through the bookshelves, debating on if you should just leave and come back later or try to find another seat. if you had the confidence, you would've gone sit at the same table as him, but unfortunately for you, that wasn't the case. letting your mind get stuck in this trance as you watched him read one of his textbooks, you hadn't noticed him lift his head up, his eyes catching yours amongst the books.

blinking out of your little daydream, your breath caught in your throat as you realized you were directly making eye contact with jungwon, his eyes curious as to why you were looking at him from afar. you felt a jolt of surprise course through your body, momentarily freezing you in place. caught in the act of observing him from behind the bookshelves, you could feel your cheeks burning with embarrassment. however, instead of turning away or pretending nothing happened, jungwon's expression softened into a warm smile.

breaking the spell of shyness that held you captive, jungwon motioned for you to come closer. with a mix of hesitation and excitement, you cautiously emerged from your hiding spot, making your way towards the table where he sat. as you approached, he slid his books to the side, clearing a space for you to join him.

"Hey, I noticed you peeking at me from over there," jungwon said playfully, his voice laced with genuine curiosity. "Want to sit with me? We can study together."

"Oh.. Sure" you offered him a little smile that he was quick to reciprocate. jungwon had felt comfortable enough during the time that you guys had spent together, going over the last chapter the teacher had gone over. the conversation seemed to flow with ease, you'd steal glances once in a while, not quite believing that you were actually sitting face-to-face with the boy you had dreamt about all those years.

as time passed, you found yourself really setting in the comfort of his presence, some part of you wondering if this comfort was simply rooted in jungwon's social personality or was it really that you two had easily connected. the time to go was nearing and both of you had started to pack up your belongings, your heart sank a little at the knowledge that this might be a one-time thing. just as you were getting to say goodbye and make your way to class, jungwon grabbed your wrist, turning you back around.

"Hold up- This might sound random considering this was our first interaction but I understood my lesson so much better with this one-hour study session than what I've learnt all semester and if you want, we can meet here tomorrow again after classes. you're fun to talk to and quite cute" he chuckled the last part, trying to ease any discomfort you might be feeling.

your mind went blank. you had never, in a million years, expected him to ask to meet you again. slightly overjoyed, you eagerly blurted out a yes. jungwon laughing at your surprised face at your own self. and just like that, you guys had planned your first little date, unknown to both of you that years down the line you'd still be a prominent part of each other's life.

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clarks-letterman · 8 months

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VHS Tape 1A - "Sleepover" | Wally Clark x Male!Reader

a/n – THIS is what sent me into a writing slump but lets hope i conquered it by finishing this

Summary – Last night, Wally invited you to a sleepover as a joke, but things turned serious by the end of the night.

warnings – drinking, sex, mentions of anal, oral (wally receiving), pre-death!Wally Clark, dirty talk, 18+, he might be a tad bit ooc!

words — 6.1k

~~~

Life was something that, to you, needed to be treated with the same level of thought and care as with anything else contained within it. You tried to be mindful of your grades at school, steered clear of any and all uses of drugs, especially the lethal ones, and kept your inner circle small for the most part. The teachers addressed you the same way you did them, on a first-name basis. You had practically secured a spot on the faculty-designated pages of the yearbook. That’s why, when Wally's constant teasing about the night you stayed over at his house started up, you almost didn’t believe him.

There was a black spot in your memory, a time when nothing existed to you, but something was there that he knew of. You tried to think back to the moments leading up to everything that had happened, things you knew for sure. It was the Friday before a huge exam that would take place on Monday of the following week, and a folded-up note was passed to you in fourth period–Psychology–from the back of the class. While the teacher was turned away, you carefully unfurled it to get to the message inside. To you, the plans for that night seemed normal enough–a sleepover study session to cram in as much information for the exam with enough booze to calm everyone’s nerves, as explained by Wally’s messy and strung-together letters on the note. It felt a little counter-intuitive, but he insisted on supplying the alcohol. He claimed that it would help encourage others in the class to show up and take their academics seriously, and you were inclined to believe his words. Who didn’t love free drinks and a jock with a nice house to get wasted in?

That was your first mistake, and the second came when he invited you over the day after the so-called sleepover. He flooded your landline with numerous calls, excitedly telling you all about how he got everything from last night on film and that he would be over to pick you up soon. The mere sight of his house from the windshield of his Cutlass jogged your memory. You remembered hesitantly walking up to his door, textbook in hand with a look of awe as you ogled at his house’s exterior. Typically middle class with a clean front exterior combining brick on the first floor and light blue paneling on the second. His house extended into a two-door garage, but both doors were closed the night you went. And the next morning, one was open as he pulled into the right side of the vacant garage. The door slid down behind you, sounding exactly how you wanted the VCR to when Wally inevitably played back last night’s events on tape. Once it shut, the only light emanated from his beamers on the front and back-ends. The light forming a clearing from the shroud of darkness in the room felt exactly like your memory. You knew where to go to learn the truth, and now, it felt like you didn’t know how to turn back.

In the passenger seat, the armrest between you and him wasn’t the only thing separating the two of you. From what Wally hinted at on the ride over, you two seemed to be on the same page last night, and he didn’t mean the textbook.

You sighed, piecing together your own path leading away from it all, “Do I really want to know what happened last night?”

“You definitely do. It was legendary!” Wally insisted.

“As long as it’s not embarrassing…”

If you went into his house, you ran the risk of remembering something you could have lived your whole life not knowing about; something you might end up wishing to forget. But the thought of what exactly happened was too tempting not to find out. How bad could it be? The only way to find out would be to watch it and see what looks like you do things you couldn’t recall.

Wally casually placed a hand on your thigh, “Hey, we were both pretty drunk. And after watching the tape this morning, I can confidently say, I would do everything on it all over again.”

“Pfft. You held the camera, I bet you’re barely in it.” His hand felt out of place, like seeing someone place their palm on an open burner on the stove. Any heat from before didn’t boil over into this morning, though, including your worries leading up to the moment you arrived at his house.

“I was basically your co-star! Here–let’s recreate it.” Wally hopped out the driver’s side of the lowrider, rounding the hood of the car and opening your door. He offered out a hand, but you didn’t take it.

His garage door didn’t stay closed for long, as he had the perfect plan to reenact the interaction that started it all.

“I’ll head in through the door in here, you go to the front door and I’ll be there to answer,” he directed. You did as he said, taking the little paved pathway to his house, picking up on the littlest of details in his front yard to see if anything rang a bell. Nothing. The same could be said as you knocked on his door–the vibrant red facing you with a gold handle and lock above it to fit a jagged-cut Clark house key. The anxious feelings you got standing at his door less than twenty-four hours ago didn’t pull your stomach into knots this time. It was like your body had lived through the feeling of resolve–maybe a forgotten rejection–but your head was still catching up to all of those feelings.

A few seconds went by and you heard the lock click out of place, followed by the door swinging open with the turn of the handle. He answered the door in the same way as he had before: an arm raised above his head, leaning against the door with it and greeting you with a wide smile. The only difference was his clothing. Last night, he donned dark-colored jeans and a forest-green jumper. Today, he wore a lighter shade of blue denim for his pants, mostly to keep it from clashing with his white tee-shirt and navy blue letterman jacket he earned from his dedication to football. On top of his head, he wore a black baseball cap, turned one-hundred and eighty degrees to face backward. There was one accessory missing that greeted you with its eye at the door as well–Wally’s camera. You remembered the video camera he had been waving around in your face when he answered the door. He claimed that it was a gift he received earlier that day and wanted to take it for a test run.

He practically used it as his way of seeing, his way of looking at you, and memorializing something as simple as studying. It felt a bit insincere the first time around like he was just doing it for the proof that he was a nice person to everyone, not just his football team. But right now, you felt more attended to, more cared for by his brown eyes not hidden behind a video camera. Even with his forgiving and welcoming nature, it couldn’t keep you from recalling the meandering conversation you had when you first arrived.

“Remember… anything?” He held the ‘er’ longer than the awkward silence lasted as he moved out of the doorframe, waiting for you to enter the lion’s den. You shook your head, “Just that your house is nice and all.”

The memories started to slowly fade in as he took you inside with him. His house let you in and welcomed you with a warm foyer, brightly lit from floor-to-ceiling windows and thin drapes pulled back to let the light seep in. The furniture, from the kitchen to the living room, looked well lived in, but it hadn’t lost that cozy feeling. There were still many more memories to make on them, but you were concerned about one in particular.

He led you to the same brown leather couch that you felt vaguely acquainted with, and you took a seat on the left end of the couch. He took the right side and left the middle cushion vacant. A mismatched, wavy-patterned chair sat turned to face the couch and the coffee table caught in the crossroads of both directions. You noticed the walls were white with pastel blue accents. Images of ships at sea and framed family photos fill the space between the windows in the room, which made it feel like Wally stared at you from every angle you could think of. Simply looking to the end table to your left brought him closer to you, and when you turned to look at the older version of the man in the photo, he had scooted over to the middle seat.

“I got the tape.” He said. Wally flashed the tape in your direction, looking proud of his creation. In those brief moments, you were able to see the word Sleepover crudely written in black Sharpie. He had already given a title to his film, and maybe you should have been happy that it wasn’t your name followed by the description of something abject.

“Well, put it in!” Your hands waved him off the couch and toward the large entertainment center. At first, it was easy to mistake it for a closet, but as Wally pulled away the two panels in the front, you knew it to house a boxy television. On the shelf below it is a VCR and it’s remote, and on the shelf below that, speakers.

While he put the tape in, you tried channeling any memory of last night from the couch, since you remembered it as the first landmark–besides his kitchen–that would mean anything to you. The note, the car, the couch, the drinks, the textbook–all things you went over and over again in your head, but couldn’t quite figure out what path they were inescapably leading towards. Spontaneity may have been your downfall here, as one unexpected factor revealed on the tape could change the direction the night had gone in. Wally reclaimed his seat on the couch, directly next to you. The tape whirred in the machine as its innards stretched and rolled around various corners to relay its evidence of last night.

The first minutes are nothing much to gawk at. Wally showed himself recording in a mirror, seemingly testing out the device until a knock played out. Holding the camera at chest height during your conversation, he answered his front door as expected. You exchanged greetings and he welcomed you inside.

“Where is everyone?” Watching the recording of yourself felt different. It wasn’t weird or confusing, but you started to notice things about yourself that you wish you could have done in a better manner.

Wally was hidden behind the camera as he spoke, keeping it focused on you. Maybe that’s why you noticed everything–because it was how he had seen it last night. His voice was louder than yours when he spoke thanks to how close the microphone on the camera was to him. “Oh, they’ll be here later. Is that good with you?”

“That’s fine. We’ll get a jump on studying.”

You wanted to cringe, is this how you really acted? Nervous and far too afraid to make a move that you sold yourself as a complete loser to compensate for it. This was a part you painfully remembered from last night but it looked better from your perspective. Looking at the observer to your right, he looked content with himself and the product he created.

You tried to hint that you wanted the jock to fast forward through this preluding embarrassment without giving away how you felt. If you were going to get embarrassed by things from last night, you might as well have seen the worst of it first. “Worst movie ever.”

“Ouch. Does that make me a bad director?” He played along.

“I think it’s just too boring, plus that one actor can’t say his lines right even if the script was in that book.” You note the textbook that you’re still holding on the screen, clutching it as if it were some kind of last-resort barrier between you and Wally. You refused to pay attention to what you were saying, so as not to feel more embarrassed. Thankfully, the director kept commentating over his home movie.

His gaze doesn’t break from the screen. “Harsh critic, I like it. Let me know what you think of the other lead, he seems pretty handsome.”

“It’s pretty bold to have the director star in his own film.”

“You’ll come around to the casting choices. There’s one scene later on that will blow your mind,” he smirked, looking over to you.

These were all things you remembered, and he didn’t seem to get the hint, so you asked him to skip ahead outright. “Mind fast-forwarding? To the good parts, I mean.”

Wally’s smirk dropped and he went back to following your command. He was supposed to be the one helping you live through your irretrievable actions, “Yeah, tell me when.”

Wally peeled himself from the couch, reaching for the remote and hitting one button on it a few times. The footage relayed across the screen became as much of a blur as it felt in your head. The speedy actions and jumps from when Wally would occasionally stop recording felt disorienting, but you noticed a brief flash of an alcohol bottle between shaky shots, “There!”

Wally’s stunning looks were on screen, and you deduced that you held the camera this time. You were in his kitchen, just one room over from his living room with a doorway connecting the two. The doorway, it was visible from your spot on the couch, located to the left of the television stand. Seeing the perspective of the camera made you think that you were standing relatively within the doorway, and Wally stood surrounded by the U-shape of his counter. The pearly white gloss of the counter reminded you of his smile–wide, perfect, everywhere.

The man with those pearly whites ducked below the counter to fetch a bottle of vodka–the sound of a small, whirring machine halting as a door opened played through the screen, suggesting that the Clarks had embellished a wine cooler into their base cabinets. Then, he reached up high to a pantry cabinet emerging from the wall, pulling out two shot glasses. The detail was fuzzy, but you could make out some various juices and zests already prepared for all the woo-woos and cold ducks two rebellious teenagers could want.

“What unit are we on again?” He asked, trying to make small talk.

You reminded him of what the teacher had written in chalk weeks ago. “Interpersonal attraction.”

“What’s that? I totally studied it, I just… forgot.” He said it as if it wasn’t his fault, and it still sounded virtuous as it re-rang in your ear from the stereo. A thought crossed your mind, that, maybe it wasn’t. He excelled at football and could get into college on that, so long as he steered clear of any injuries that would hold him back, which would mean that his grades just had to be good enough. Maybe he was simply a product of his environment, and you couldn’t really blame him for that.

“When someone only sees the positive side of things in a relationship,” you answered.

“I think this study session is going great.” He said while pouring the vodka into both shot glasses. He filled one higher than the other and rounded the counter with both in hand.

“That’s not it, and it really isn’t. We haven’t even gotten to the hard stuff yet.”

“I said I needed something to help us study. I positively think this will loosen you up a little.” Wally offered one of the shots to you, the last frame holding on his charming face.

The camera cut and the scenery around it changed again, but to something familiar. You were back in the living room you currently watched the tape in, but the table in front of you had been moved off to the side. His camera laid on top of it, capturing you and Wally sitting and facing each other, with your textbook on the ground, filling the distance between you and him. The bottle of alcohol had the cap twisted off, resting upright next to Wally, some cut-up limes scattered on a plate next to that, and your shot glasses next to them. Due to the quality of the camera, you couldn’t quite tell how much of the bottle was empty until Wally picked it up.

The angle at which he held it while decanting some into his glass answered your question. You and he must have made a dent in the bottle at that point, and your guard was likely lowered as you felt extremely comfortable around Wally. He topped off the shot glass with the clear courage. “If I get this wrong, this one’s yours.”

Expectedly, the question you fired his way was not met with an acceptable answer. Your mind was trying to think of each question like a teacher, how they would accept and consider his answer compared to other students’ responses. As you drank more due to his inability to take the class seriously, you started to slip away from that teacher mentality. This wasn’t the first time he wagered this bet, and it wasn’t the first time he lost, either. Whether it was intentional or on purpose, you held up your end of it. The video showed you preparing yourself for the shot, shaking out a smattering of salt from the castor, and readying yourself to drop the shot glass and lurch for the lime. Your hands felt almost shaky at his failure, knowing that you were bound to mess up the order of the steps.

He talked you through each step.

“Salt…” You could taste it on your tongue, even now. The same could be said for the saliva left on your hand from where you poured the salt out at.

“The shot…” The cold, thick rim of the glass felt indented into your lips. The feeling of the liquid going down your throat, burning as the dehydration set in lingered just the same.

“Then lime! Oh, yeah!” Wally cheered, looking proud of the teacher he had become to you.

You took a moment to let it sink in. Warmth on your face, soon to be everywhere. Courage building up from nothing into something that would perforate the cover of embarrassment.

Then, you looked down at the textbook. Your eyes alternated the pages beyond pages of information at your hands, having so much to pull from that you undoubtedly knew would be regurgitated on to the test, just less profoundly worded than its primary form. When you looked back up. . . had Wally always looked like that? His dark hair looked darker, and softer, like a fuzzy void to rake your fingers through. He did it just as the thought crossed your mind. No doubt he had to be feeling it, the way the buzz started to become the only voice in your head–a voice without reason, a voice known for speaking its mind.

“What three things make up the triangular theory of love?” You would have said it while halfway out the door, ready for embarrassment and tripping over your wordless apologies on the way out, but you were far too deep into his den to leave.

The answer was simple, and through the haze of last night, you still knew it–intimacy, passion, and commitment. Instead, he said, “You, me, naked.”

As you watched over yourself, you were taken aback by hearing his advances. But you were more ashamed of how you completely brushed it off less than a moment later. “Intimacy is one of them, yeah.”

“Okay, smart guy. I want to see you mess all these up.” He teased.

“You’re on.” He turned the textbook around so that it faced him, on your agreement.

“What is…” He flicked through a few pages and scanned over them briefly. “The reinforcement theory?”

“Uh, it’s when the person gets out something of equal or fair value in relation to what they put in.” You said, reciting it almost word-for-word as it was described on the page.

“Can you give me an example?”

It was hard not to utter the answer to yourself like you were watching a contestant on a game show, but even this one knew the million-dollar dinger. “An employee stays at their job because the pay–”

“A real example.” He interrupted. “Say… I kissed you. What could I get outta that?”

The confident and guided version of yourself from last night stood on their knees, almost crawling over to him as they could hardly keep themselves balanced. They looked so foreign yet so familiar–it was you without layers of fear and cowardice covering your most intimate feelings. Silence fell over the two of you as you fell into him, and then, the soft sound of kissing and pulling away played from the TV. The kiss felt straight out of a rom-com rental, but the moments following were pure and unabashed the-cashier-is-sure-to-check-your-ID-at-the- checkout pornography; you could tell when Wally’s jumper came off, and the kiss started to feel more heated than your face from the alcohol.

Next to you, you felt Wally slump forward on the couch, jutting out his hips. Your eyes stayed glued to the screen, almost entranced by what was happening, until you heard the sound of a zipper being undone. In your peripheral sights, Wally’s hands had undone his fly and the button of his jeans.

“Do you mind?” He asked. For a moment, you thought he meant the video. How he captured both of you embracing each other in a way that would be shown in Health class in the near future, likely titled Everything Not to Do In Sex. The headliner would be something along the lines of where not to touch your partner, as the actions playing out on screen were messy due to inexperience and the disorienting relaxation of being under the influence. He would probably end the viewing session by asking to smash the tape in his backyard or something along those lines, not what he had done instead.

“What–holy shit.” You turned to see his light blue denim and dark red boxers bunched further down along his thighs. He had his cock out, toying with it while it was still soft. His heavy balls sat low enough to rest on the cool leather of his brown couch, being pulled up as he tugged on his dick.

“What?” He refused to stop moving his hand. He kept going, almost at a faster pace when his eyes locked on to you in the present. Maybe you had everything all wrong. Wally wasn’t looking at this with regret, he wanted to enjoy last night. You knew he didn’t fully regret everything, as he stated earlier, but you thought he meant that he learned so much or had a fun night. Not this, and not with you of all people. What you were looking at felt like the result of a cheerleader helping the Split River Devils celebrate their big win of the night.

Your hand pointed out to the image displayed on the screen. Your eyes never once broke from his gaze as you spoke, “It’s me–it’s us–on screen.”

“I know,” he said. His voice stayed the same throughout.

You couldn’t fathom it–he liked it. “And you’re getting off to this?”

“We make a pretty good pair!” He tried to justify himself, finally breaking from the nonchalance to sound happy about it. You assumed that he must have not cared about whether or not you agreed with him, because he stood up seconds later. “Fuck, I have to make this feel better…”

You heard his footsteps grow quieter as he left the room, then returned with what sounded like a spring in his step. His dick flopped up and down as he paced around the couch and back to his proclaimed seat on the couch. In his hand is a silvery Pringles Light potato chip canister, emptied of its retail packaging and filled with two halves of a sponge to make a slit in the middle. “I’ve been blue-balling all morning since I saw this…”

And, suddenly, it became very, very real. He reached for some hand lotion on the table, squirting it into his fleshjack and then into his hand. He lathered the glob on his length, his hand finding a way to spread it along himself with only a few tugs. It was a sign that he was all for it, and you decided that you were, too. Before he could get too far into pleasuring himself, you offered him your hand. You placed it on his thigh, unsure of how far to go that would be considered too close. “I could help.”

“Really? No pressure or anything. I didn’t want you to feel like you have to do anything you, uh, see yourself doing.” He looked at the television again, and you thought that he might be right. If you felt differently about what you did last night after everything had already happened, you could leave. You could pretend that last night and the ensuing morning had never happened, and you could look at Wally the same as you always had–an unattainable crush.

“Really.” You affirmed, completely sure of doing something that you would never forget. The confidence from last night returned, your hand gravitating to his lotioned skin. It had barely sunk in, and it was slick on your hand, emitting a wet cry and earning a moan from Wally. You would have thought the lotion became astringent, as Wally’s thighs tensed and his breathing hitched.

“Are you okay?” You asked, hand freezing all movement on his warmth, but never letting go of it.

“Yeah, I’m just used to my hand doing this part.” He became familiar with it quickly, though. Your hand made haste with the motions of jerking him off. Wally tried to level himself out by slumping further down on the couch, making himself more of a flat canvas for your designs. “But I could get used to this.”

There was one feeling he couldn’t get enough of, though. As your hand skimmed up and down his shaft, it occasionally slipped up over the head of his mushroom tip and teased the sensitive surface. Every time that your hand happened to find its way to his peaking pleasure, his hips jerked up and brought your hand down his shaft, like a drop tower that wasn’t quite ready to plummet into the needy feelings of release. Wally groaned, his head rolling back on the upholstered support backing the leather backrest. His flipped cap nearly got pulled off the top of his head, a sign that could’ve been looked at as him losing his mind over how good it all felt.

You looked over at the screen, seeing things take a sharp turn as you had your legs spread over Wally’s thighs. His legs stuck out, used to the kind of stretching he found himself doing on the field for football practice, and you sat squarely on his upper thighs. One hand stayed glued to his face and slid down to his neck as you explored five percent of the surface, and your other hand journeyed into the deep blue of his jeans. The same hand cupped his growing heat; you could remember the faintest feelings of it now. When he became too big, too rigid for your hand to mold and keep from slipping through your fingers, your hand emersed from his denim confines. The motion kept flowing, though, when your ass had found a way to push him down as he presumably pushed up, an action you felt ready to mimic. His rudimentary fleshlight wouldn’t have to leave him wanting more, and you were sure to make it known.

While he was no longer new in the box, the barrier between the two of you gone and discarded in the recycling, you felt comfortable choosing to come out of yours. “I think I want you to fuck me.”

Just as you were about to step out of its confines, his words snaked around your wrists and tied you down to the box’s cardboard backing. Your motivation was restrained from where he drew the line. “Yeah, you might just want to use that sweet hand for now…”

“Why?”

“Uh, last night… we kind of did anal,” he groaned out. Suddenly, there was a cry from the TV that was unmistakably your voice, “I want you to fuck me!” Wally cleared his throat, “No, we definitely did.”

He stared down the television, entranced by its contents in a matter of seconds. The exact thing he said started to unfold. In the drunken misguidance, he had forgone lube to make the blur tinting his hindsight go a little bit faster. He carried the camera along his body until he held it in front of his face like he had when he first greeted you at the door. There was a slow, disorienting rise as he stood, showing just how tall he was. It was like the peak of the drop tower, when your stomach would twist into knots from knowing what was about to happen. You moved into frame, rubbing the bulge in his jeans as your hands rounded the waistband around to his backside, pulling his denim down.

From the view of its eye, it peered down at his torso wrapped in green knits, his cock quickly springing out and sharing the stage with your face right next to it. It was clear that your box had been perforated, and he was the cause of it.

“Oh, oh fuck. This is my favorite part–too bad my dick looks so fucking small. The TV just doesn’t do it justice, I mean come on! Look at how big it is!”

He must have been referring to the lingering shot of his dick. The camera was still panned down from Wally’s perspective to show his cock at full fuckable potential. He got up and stood next to the image of his dick, comparing the two. Just the sight of the one on his TV made you nervous, but shifting your gaze slightly reminded you that he was painfully bigger than he looked on camera. Eight millimeters of a film reel was such a small space to capture such a big thing on screen, and his twenty-six-inch TV could only do so much to blow up the image.

The picture went dark, and black filled the screen. Wally covered the camera and gave you stage directions on the tape. “Get on the couch, all fours. No. Yeah, yeah–like that.”

You felt a warmth press into your side, Wally rejoining you on the couch again. He held his hands up in the air like he was guilty of a charge you weren’t pressing, “Sorry, not my best work, I know.”

His hand pulled away from the lens. The quality was hazy, indiscernible in some things that it captured as the kitchen light behind Wally blocked his face. But you’re on full display, arching into his touch.

Wally tugged on his cock a few times before seizing all movement, “I could take you up on a handy–fuck, maybe a beej?”

“It might not feel as good as, you know.” You said, quickly averting your eyes from the television by fully shifting your body around and onto the floor. His legs were spread by habit but were now parted by necessity as you kneeled between them.

“A hole’s a hole, I won’t complain.”

His gaze only rested on you for a second, to line himself up at the sweet spot. The point of entry, a familiar place for his dick–your body–but a new place to explore–your mouth. He made sure you were on track to take him all the way down without teeth or a gag reflex getting in the way. One trip down to the base of his cock and he was already looking away, continuing the motion with a more forceful pace to make up for what he was missing.

He looked head-on at the sex tape, seeing the view of the camera as he tried to evoke as much of the feelings from last night from its point of view. Wally imagined the wet, shlurking mouth in front of him was your hole, ready to give the same abuse he gave to your ass last night. Kind words echoed from the TV. He was talking you through the pain and happily giving you pleasure when you started bouncing on his cock. He planned to mimic it at the moment, spouting on about ‘how good you took him’ and praises alike.

Then, he saw himself slamming his hips into you on the screen, your ass smacking against his hips in a way that really demonstrated just how fast he was going. Coupling it with your cries to go ‘harder!’ as you took him, he did it from your past command. You couldn’t speak with a mouthful of him, but he treated it as something you wanted now. Wally shot up from the couch, standing and taking you with him.

His eyes were trained on the screen, moaning as his hands took over from your control. In your peripheral vision, he had propped a leg up on the coffee table to fuck, not just guide you down his length. He would have done the same with his fleshlight and your hole–bending them over the table and fucking them senseless. Your mouth, and now as he reached it, your throat, were treated like those two. His hiked leg flexed and he jutted his hips forward, his pubes bristling your nose and his swinging balls plapping against your chin. Soon, as he plowed your mouth, the sound of him face-fucking you overtook the sex on the screen.

It wasn’t until the sound of you blowing a load of hot white over his chest as he did the same inside of you did he feel fully immersed in last night’s acts. He buried himself deep in your throat one final time and made you swallow what you could, taking a minute to register that he wasn’t fucking your ass.

His hands let go of your head and you pulled off, his come running down your chin and dripping onto him and the carpet. “Jesus, that was a lot…”

Wally handed you some tissues that he must have been expecting to use after watching this tape–since this wasn’t a film worth crying over–and patted the spot on the couch next to him. “How do you feel? Sorry if that was too rough.”

“You’re good, just throw in a warning next time?” You took a few tissues out of the box and cleaned up what you could. Wally filled his expected place on the couch, redressing himself quickly. He leaned towards the table he had just finished using as leverage to fuck your mouth with to get the remote. Silence filled the room as he paused the last few minutes of the tape.

“Deal,” he agreed. You took a seat in his lap this time after cleaning up, “So, is the ending gonna ruin the whole thing?”

“I, I wouldn’t recommend watching it.”

“Seriously? We basically watched the whole thing, let’s see it!” You took the remote from him, hitting the button shaped like a triangle to let it play.

Wally started speaking almost right after the sex on-camera was over, “How do you feel? Owned? Like a good boy–”

Wally lifted the neck of his letterman, burying his face into it as he heard himself say those words. It was good to know he wasn’t happy about everything from last night, but you kind of liked hearing him say it. At least you had proof to get him to do it again.

You were quick to cut him off, though. “Like I’m gonna hurl.”

You swiped the remote from the table, pausing it just as you walked out of frame. “I left because I puked?” “Motion sickness. My fault, some people just can’t handle a long ride.”

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