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#the fact that i still have more to list .. part two one day
yesimwriting · 3 days
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I love ur felix fics sm!! ur one of my fave writers on here<<333 and no I don’t think itd b crazy to write for Nate!! I’d love to see how u would write him!! (Maybe grumpy x sunshine hehe)
hi!! this is such a nice ask :)) i'm so happy you like my felix fics
omg i love ur train of thought for a nate fic!! i've been thinking about that kind of dynamic for them, but in a really niche way
anyways let's have some thoughts on nate jacobs and sunshine/kind of sheltered reader!!
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thinking about the moment in which you find out nate jacobs is your assigned partner for a project that's worth 35% of your final grade. if this was happening to you a year ago, maybe even two or three months ago, you might have been nervous for an entirely different reason.
but you're not that version of yourself anymore. you go out to parties now; you wear shirts to school that your mom buys for you the same way she used to buy you impulse barbies, with a wink as the cashier scans them, making you promise that you won't show dad what you got at the store; you're friends with maddy and cassie...you're on your way to best friends with maddy and cassie.
so you can't dismiss the gossip and the stares nate gets in the halls as a standard part of high school, not the way you used to. you can't just see him across the hall at his locker and mentally acknowledge that you get why girls talk about him the way they do. you can't just get paired up with him for an extremely long assignment and think oh, at least he's cute.
every story maddy's ever mentioned during sleepovers, everything she's teared up about after one too many drinks hits you at full force when your teacher reads your name and then his off of her list.
would she see this as a betrayal? it's not like you picked him and asking for a new partner is out of the question, a fact your teacher made clear at the beginning of the year. but maddy's loyal...fiercely loyal, and she expects that kind of commitment to be symbiotic.
you don't move, can't move until jules leans towards you, so close her hair spills onto your desk. "no fucking way." she whispers it in a way that'd make you laugh if this was about someone else.
you're silent, eyes finally pulling away from a brightly colored poster explaining the roles of each branch of the US government. you turn your head enough to look at where nate sits, the back of the room with a few other football players.
he's already looking at you. and when nate realizes you're finally staring back, he has the audacity to let the corner of his mouth pull into a smug sort of smile you're sure another version of you would have considered swoon worthy.
you're all instructed to use the last few minutes of class time to talk to your new partners, to make some kind of preliminary plan. nate's standing up and you're still recovering from the whiplash.
helplessly, you look over at jules who's clearly trying to get to the other side of the room before nate can get to you. she mouths a "sorry" that feels genuine, and points at the girl she's supposed to work with in a way that feels like over kill. you roll your eyes, picking up your pen and pressing the pad of thumb against its side to have something to do.
nate's in front of you before you know it. he's so tall it's a little intimidating when he's right there, especially with you still sitting. "you're everywhere now." a reference to the fact that you were both at the same party last weekend. you can still hear maddy's slurred i can't believe he's fucking here, before she dragged you out to the house's patio.
he's probably seen you more places. you're around maddy pretty regularly these days and from what you've heard, you wouldn't put stalking above him. he's probably a stalker in the way guys from the news are stalkers, calm and untouchable until they feel like the girl they're watching is moving on. then they snap and some news anchor reports that there were warning signs for months beforehand.
you're partially aware of your potential exaggerations, but you can't bring yourself to care. you've never really interacted with nate, but you want to hate him as more than the monster you hear about when maddy feels like ranting. you want to viscerally hate him. it's such an instinctual tug that you can't pretend it's all about morality. you're craving innate repulsion the way an elementary school girl wants the other half of a magnetic necklace with the word "best" etched into cheap metal. it's kind of pathetic, but then again...
"not last year, or last semester--"
he's baiting you and you're completely aware and you still can't help yourself. "what? it's illegal to make new friends now?"
your tone surprises you more than the fact that you interrupted him. you've never been overly shy, but you've also never been much of a fighter on your own behalf. maybe this is like the parties and barbie-style-bought-shirts, just another facet of the improved you.
nate seems surprised too, only he wears it like there's something funny about it. "no, you've always been friendly."
he says it like there's a joke in there that'd make the football players a few rows back laugh. it digs at you more than it should. he gets under your skin in a way that bugs. maybe that means genuine hatred is on its way.
you look up at him, eyes as unimpressed as you can manage. "so," the word is definite, intentional. "the project..." you're glad for the excuse to turn your attention back to your notebook, "i don't know if you want to work out a time to--"
"i'm leaving in like five minutes." you're about to point out that class doesn't end for another when he explains, "football game." ugh. another thing you can decide to be annoyed about. your homework schedule is now going to revolve around high school football. "can i get your number?" the idea of existing in nate jacobs's phone feels so wrong you can't immediately reply. he picks up on your hesitation, because he tacks on the one phrase that could get you to do anything, "35% of our grade."
you nod once, expression as blank as you can manage as you write out your phone number on the corner of a page. You tear off the bottom corner and hand it to him. "don't save my number."
it's so rude, your jaw almost drops, "what?"
"you're going to see maddy before the project's over, right?"
the implication immediately makes your stomach knot. you're not--you can't not tell maddy. she won't like it, but she can't hold a random partnering against you. and--and it's worse if you don't tell her, because then it's like you're sneaking around with nate. and it's--it's all for school.
"i'm not going to lie to her for you." it's so ridiculous, you can't even hold eye contact. his silence adds a second loop to the knot in your stomach. "why would i lie?" your own genuineness sickens you, you're backtracking immediately. "and--and it's just a dumb school thing, so she probably won't care that much."
"and you're sure she's going to believe that?"
"yes," the word is firm because it has to be. "because that's what it is."
"she gets paranoid."
no, no--he's doing this to get into your head and cause problems. "if she's paranoid it's because you're crazy."
"fine." he shoves the scrap of paper into his pocket. "save my number, don't save my number. tell maddy, don't tell maddy."
you sigh. "why do you care?" they're broken up...even if maddy takes it the wrong way, the fall out will be a you problem.
"she's going to think i fucked you to hurt her." you hate this--the situation, the conversation, the fact that you can't completely dismiss his train of thought. "who's known maddy longer?"
you're about to try again, to defend your friendship with maddy and call him crazy again when the static of the intercom speakers interrupts you. all football players are being called out of class to leave for an away game. nate gives you one last look before turning towards the door.
when jules slips back into her seat and asks if you're okay with everything, you nod and attempt a joke about catching fuck boy germs, but it doesn't come out the way you want it to. she still laughs, so you do too, but that's not as natural as it should be, either.
----
lmk if you like this concept/want more of it!! i had fun writing this :))
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revasserium · 3 days
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a rumination on falling in love; aka the terrifying and strange reality of "dream girl" becoming "real girl"
or, what happens when an only child who has only ever loved in fiction falls in love in real life instead
this is not for you. unless, of course. you, like me, have felt like this before. which is to say, this might be for you. but it most definitely is, 100%, for me. so read on if you'd like. or, close out and move right along.
i am very lucky, i think, to have had the childhood that i had -- only child, two loving parents. but not only that, two loving parents who were good at loving and also good at parenting (which are two very distinct and different things and somehow, at least in my semi-limited exposure to people around my age, is becoming rarer and rarer these days). i am lucky to have been allowed to grow as i have -- to never question that i am loved, unconditionally and endlessly, to never question whether or not i have something -- because of course it's mine -- i've got no siblings to have to share anything with.
now, to some, that might be a sad, lonely thing, but i never thought about it that way. because i was never taught to think about it that way. and contrary to popular belief, it hasn't made me (or at least so i think) stingy or "bad at sharing" -- it's actually made me rather an over-sharer. i always have snacks at the office, i try to offer advice freely, i spot dinners/outings when i can, i like the joy it brings to share things not only to the people being shared with, but also to me -- the person doing the sharing.
but the double-edged sword of only-child-dom in upper-middle class america is time -- the huge, gaping excess of it, giant swaths of it after school, great big chunks of it on the weekends, the seemingly unbridgeable chasm between turning off the light and falling asleep. later, i'd learn that undiagnosed adhd and very high performing manic depression are to blame for most of my vibrating sense of need to fill every hour of every day with some kind of productivity (this, unironically, is why i love new york city -- the frenetic energy of it matches my mental wavelength so that i can feel "productive" even when i'm just walking down the street or sitting in a bar).
but back then, i -- and by extension my lovely parents -- tried to fill it with stuff -- 2 different art classes, ballet, swimming, piano, debate club, singing, chinese school, and of course, with my still yet unfilled hours -- reading and writing. to say i was raised by the books i read would be an understatement. to say i am nothing more than a massive conglomerate of those characters that resonated most with me in those books would be parenthetical to the fact that i'm also built by all those characters i've ever admired or wanted to be. i am, in the most cliche, literal, non-lampshaded sense "that nerdy book girl" who made it her entire fucking personality to be... that nerdy book girl. and this, amidst the stratospheric rise of "not like other girls" media and rhetoric -- it was not healthy (it still isn't), but it was a large part of who i was. and a lingering part of who i am today.
my overactive, adhd-driven imagination served me well, then. into the stories i delved, and what i couldn't find in my normal every day life, i found in narrative. long before the tiktok-ification of "book boyfriends" came the voices in my head that sounded like all the would-be book boyfriends i'd ever have -- everyone from edward cullen to kakashi to four (that one guy from divergent who only has like 4 fears, which in retrospect is so, so cringe, but alas) to fictionalized versions of one direction members. the list goes on. i used to be able to hold entire conversations, play out entire scenes with these mental constructs with impudent ease. spend hours in my room by myself just imagining.
it was like astral projection -- my body, here, my mind and my soul, somewhere else entirely. and this i believe (to this day) is the core of a lot of my writing and creativity. and also the core of a lot of my philosophies and beliefs. the ability to sink into a dream, a scene, a story.
and then. i fell in love.
and sure, it would be much too cliche to say that misery breeds good art so a happy artist would (at best) produce mediocre art/writing/whatever. because i've also seen fantastic art produced by very, very happy artists. the sad truth is only that it's much rarer than the alternative of the painfully mainstream tortured artist.
but to some degree, i think there's an inkling of truth in that saying. because having a real-life boyfriend, with all the real-life machinations and strings of having said real-life boyfriend has made it, somehow, much harder to access that old imaginary part of me. like a child growing up and losing the ability to "make believe" the way they used to. except, i know it's still there. there are still moments where i touch it, where i dip my toes in and it always feels like coming home.
and it's more than just the normal adult-ish responsibilities of going to work and paying bills, making dinner and shopping for groceries. doing laundry and investing in your roth ira. because before real-life boyfriend, i still did those things and i was still able to seamlessly get to that "elsewhere place". somehow, it is the physical presence of real-life boyfriend that seems to act as a "grounding agent". he is home, so i can't go to that other place. or, i can kind of get there, but i've always still got one foot steeped in reality.
it is not a necessarily good or bad thing, just an observation at most. but it does create this new "space" for the "want" of that elsewhere. for the want to being able to slip into that creative asphodel like i used to -- blink and i'm there. so i find myself often sitting at my desk, wishing, and then wondering what it means that i can't. that it isn't always and immediately accessible to me anymore.
perhaps absolute solitude was the unquestioned prerequisite for so long that i'd never noticed it until the solitude was no longer available to me. or perhaps the book-boyfriends are just shy creatures, afraid of the blaring daylight that real-life boyfriend might shed on their ultimate two-dimensional beings.
or perhaps that was always a "safe space" that i'd created for myself, and now real-life boyfriend has created a safe space for me too, and the venne-diagram of the two space spaces overlap just so, making a less singular space of each of them in turn. i don't know, but it's an interesting thought.
it's always struck me, now thinking back, that i've never been even remotely interested in having a real-life relationship before now. but that i've also never questioned if i wanted the current one that i'm in, if this was "the one" or if it was "good for me". and in that too, i know i am very lucky. few people can say that they struck gold the first time they've ever tried.
i know for a fact i wouldn't be this happy, have this good of a life if real-life boyfriend weren't here. he has made me better in ways that i do not have words to describe. but i'm also terrified of the earthen grounding-ness of him. i've spent my entire childhood and most of my adult life with my head in the clouds, taking the necessary trips back down to earth when i had to but... it feels strange to be "here" more and more. there's a hole inside of me where "that" heaven should be.
but two things can be true -- i am happy here; i still yearn for that elsewhere.
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mee-op · 8 months
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Facts about in-game Yuu (Twisted Wonderland):
NOTES:
This is an ongoing list and will be updated with new information. I'm not caught up w/ chap 6 and I'm not very perceptive. This list is so long because of all the people who commented/sent asks, so thank you Last but not least, some of these might be a stretch/be slightly incorrect so bare w/ me plz :] More Yuu facts [ ONE / TWO ] <- not mine
They've been good friends with Heartslabyul ever since Book 1.
They're forgiving/don't hold any bad blood with the people who've overblotted (at least on the outside).
According to the Harveston event, they can play the flute.
They don't like mentioning that they might return to their world (Deuce's Wishing Star vignette).
Many people consider them a "goody-two-shoes" (Leona, Ruggie).
A good listener.
Based on Malleus' interactions with them, Yuu talks to him a lot more off-screen as he states that he values their opinions.
Loves Grim to hell and back.
It's implied that Yuu invites Malleus over frequently enough that he visits unprompted.
They can be snarky and brutally honest when they're pushed into it.
Comes up with stupid plans that nobody believes will work but it somehow does.
They're insecure about not having any magic.
They want to be able to help their friends.
Has a sense of self-preservation.
Does not actively seek out danger (*cough* om mc *cough*).
They've cleaned up Ramshackle since living there, however, it still looks "abandoned & ancient" on the outside.
Crowley doesn't give them more money than "needed".
Silver states that Yuu is good with swords (PE Uniform).
Both Jamil and Silver seem to think that Yuu is somewhat weird/strange.
They don't know much about mushrooms (Floyd's Camp Vargas vignette).
They're very patient.
Used to be afraid of ghosts until they got to Twisted Wonderland.
They adapt to new/difficult situations quickly and calmly.
They don't complain much.
Very much so the silent type.
The audience doesn't really see anyone helping them out with their situation, so I assume they fix most of their problems themselves.
They don't have any memories of the Great Seven before coming to Twisted Wonderland.
Fluctuates between being observant and not noticing really basic stuff.
Doesn't hesitate to say cheesy things.
Keeps calm in harsh situations.
They know how to play a blowing horn (White Rabbit Event).
Good with instruments.
Not a very good singer (NRC Uniform).
It's implied that they have high stamina.
They're interested in horseback riding and wants to play soccer with Sebek (PE Uniform).
They recommend a few books to Sebek, implying that they read in their free time.
They're short in comparison to Floyd (he calls them Shrimpy).
Grim comments that they're shorter than Vil.
Crowley mumbles that Yuu looks effeminate.
They're a bit of a romantic since they seem to often ask about love stories/fairy tales (Epel & Jade chats).
They have a habit of poking, tugging, tickling and just touching people in general. This is proven through the Home Screen character interactions.
Their love language seems to be physical touch.
They get scared easily but is bad at scaring others (Halloween voice lines).
Vil notes that their uniform is baggy.
Malleus says that Yuu has gotten better at dancing (Masquerade Event).
It's implied that Yuu is good/decent at cooking since they have to make meals for both themself and Grim every day.
Yuu is decent at basketball (Ace Halloween).
Deuce remarks about a tiny piece of furniture in Ramshackle and asks if it's for Grim, meaning Yuu makes small furniture for him.
They're a good photographer.
Takes part in photography competitions (Rook Port Fest).
It's implied that Yuu carries their ghost camera everywhere because Crowley constantly makes them record events.
It's said that the game cards are actual photos that Yuu took with the ghost camera. [I don't know if this is true but a lot of people have said so]
Most, if not all the characters tell Yuu to hurry up when choosing a class, which suggests that they're indecisive.
Ace, Deuce and Cater tell Yuu to relax during classes or else they'll run out of energy.
Jack says that he got tips from Yuu while he was working in Monstro Lounge, implying that Yuu might've worked in customer service before (Book 3).
According to Grim, they have a hard time saying no to people, but when they absolutely need to-- they're very serious and a bit intimidating. "You're a real sap sometimes, you know that? Then again, when you bare your teeth it's no joke."
While they won't say no to helping others, they prefer to keep to themselves and avoid drama.
Yuu is sometimes a bit distrustful of Ace and thinks he's tricking them if he offers to do anything nice (2024 Player Birthday Greetings).
It doesn't take much to make them happy. (Deuce & Idia 2024 Player Birthday Greetings).
They became nervous when Riddle invited them to a salon for their birthday. Riddle response saying "I'll be right there with you, and will instruct you in etiquette every step of the way."
They're competitive in class-- at least when it comes to Jack (2024 Player Birthday Greetings).
They took chess lessons to try and beat Leona in a match (2024 Player Birthday Greetings).
For their birthday, Yuu asks Azul to get something that's supposedly hard for an average collector to acquire.
They're surprised when Kalim gifts them a pop-up card for their birthday.
They own a pair of fingerless gloves (gifted by Epel).
They personally invited Vil over for their birthday party and made sure to have healthy food options for him.
Not very close with Idia.
Owns a glass tumbler that reads 'Happy Birthday!' (gifted by Ortho).
Lilia gives them a CD with his screamo performances.
They were gifted so many presents on their birthday that they had trouble carrying the gifts around. (Malleus 2024 Player Birthday Greetings).
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lisired · 1 month
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can you keep it down?
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pairing: neighbor!mark x (f) reader
genre/warnings: smut, dilf!mark, oral (m receiving), throat fucking, choking, thigh slapping, forced submission, implications of brat taming (in progress), praise, degradation but it’s more like banter, unprotected sex (dont b silly wrap ur willy)
summary: The apartment next door to yours has been vacant for months. No one had gone in or out, not until your new next door neighbor moved in two weeks ago. Mark, a slightly older guy who prides himself on his patience and willpower with a penchant for control. But when you make it clear you’re resolved to wither away the things he values most, Mark decides he’s down for the challenge, determined to put a leash on your unrestrained behavior - and most importantly, finally shut you the hell up.
word count: 10.4k
a/n: 4/4 of the Temptation series. feedback is appreciated!
The first time you met Mark, it was right outside your door. 
It was late at night - debatably early in the morning - and you had been in the middle of bringing yourself to the third consecutive orgasm in a row when loud knocking interrupted you. Part of you was tempted to ignore whoever was determined to beat down your door, but it was ceaseless and frankly, you were growing annoyed. 
Swiftly you slipped on the closest pair of shorts and marched to the front door in large strides, swinging it open once you finally arrived. Then, your eyes met Mark’s. 
He was a mere stranger to you then. But what you saw made you want to know him. What you saw made you nearly forget that you were on the brink of orgasm only moments ago. A pair of beautiful brown eyes stared back at you. 
“Hey,” he greeted, voice gruff. “Sorry to bother you, but can you keep it down? I live right next door and with all the noise I can’t sleep.”
For a moment you only blinked, processing his words slowly. You weren’t aware that you were being that loud. But then again, you were in no state to properly register your actions - you were delirious with pleasure and had blocked everything else past your senses. 
When you finally processed his statement, your cheeks burned, slightly embarrassed. “Fuck. I’m so, so sorry, I had no idea. I’ll try to be quieter from now on.”
He gave you a courteous nod and replied, “No worries. Have a good night.”
“You, too.”
And that was it. When you shimmied back out of your shorts, you didn’t even feel energetic anymore, only overcome by exhaustion and the burdensome fact that you had work in the morning. You groaned and flopped against your bedsheets, letting sleep swallow you whole. 
But the image of your new neighbor was reoccurring. There was something familiar about him, like you had seen him once before. And there were things you noticed right off the bat about him. For one, he was an older guy. Not old, but evidently beyond your years. And if the shorts he wore was any indicator, he was likely a father. 
That made the chain of thoughts about him increase, and you didn’t even know his first name. There was instant intrigue and desire to get to know your new, next-door neighbor. 
Though visions died quick, and dreams were killed even quicker. When you saw Mark swallowing some girl’s face only moments before she left his apartment on your way to work some days later, you rationalized yourself and decided to take it steady. It was certain that you were sure of what you wanted, but you respected his relationship. You were a great deal of things - delusional and a homewrecker weren’t on the list. 
The second time, it was when you least expected it - at a local cafe. 
Mark sat across from you, coffee cup in hand. Awareness of someone’s sudden presence made you shudder, and it slightly soothed you when you realized it was your hot neighbor. Your heart was still beating fast. 
You played it cool. “Are you stalking me, neighbor?” 
Amused, your neighbor let out a chuckle that was like music to your ears. “My name is Mark,” he introduced himself, smiling blithely. “And don’t flatter yourself, neighbor. I saw you here coincidentally and sat here because I had one good question for you.” 
With an eyebrow arched, you casted Mark an identical smile. It amused you that he spoke to you as if you had been long friends, though you didn’t mind. You had been intrigued by Mark the moment you first laid eyes on him, and had been incapable of taking them off him since. 
“Mark,” you said, tasting his name on your tongue. You played along and bobbed your head after a few moments, deciding you liked his name and gave him yours. “What do you have to ask me, Mark?” 
Mark leaned over the table, voice an octave above a whisper as he asked, “Who’s fucking you so good that you can’t be quiet?”
He leaned back out and eyed you smugly when you blinked in surprise. His bluntness had caught you off-guard and he was proud of it, but you refused to not quickly recover.
Feigning indifference, you replied, “No one. Most of the time it’s just me and my toys. I have a hectic work schedule so it’s rare for me to find time to mess with people.” 
Much to your misfortune, it was true. Working a busy office job meant that you had little time for even short-lived flings or one-night stands, much less the commitment of a serious relationship. It was difficult to recall the last time that you had gotten laid. With work taking such a humongous toll on you, your only way of relieving all of your pent-up frustrations was with sex toys. 
That response was a clear shock to Mark, and in return you took pride in it. He was expecting you to be taken, but now that you had essentially implied that you weren’t dating anyone, he felt free to make a move on you. It was an indirect way of asking you if you were single. He also didn’t expect the same girl that flushed red when he confronted you about your noisiness to meet his boldness, but it was a welcome surprise. Mark could tell only fun things would come out of knowing you and becoming your neighbor. 
Mark took a long sip from his cup, then asked, “What do you do for a living?”
“I work a variable job as an executive assistant that spends an ungodly amount of time behind a computer screen doing everyone else’s job for them,” you smiled tiredly. 
He threw you a playful grimace and glanced at his watch for a split-second, but you had his undivided attention again in no time. “Damn, no wonder. You must like things rough.”
That took you by surprise, but you didn’t dare show it. “You have no idea,” you grumbled, playing it safe. “What about you?”
Mark grinned with pride. “I’m an editor for a publishing company.”
“Must be fun.”
“I can’t complain. It’s a stress sometimes, but it pays the bills.”
You chuckled. “Amen to that.” 
It felt forbidden to be interested in your potentially taken neighbor that you only met a couple of days ago, yet here you were talking to him about your sex and work life. To make matters worse - and if that comment about you liking things rough was any indicator - you might have somehow also piqued his interests. 
Maybe you were just reading too much into his words. After all, you were his noisy neighbor that kept him up at night. He was probably just curious as to why you seemingly made enemies with silence. 
Mark glanced at his watch again then rose from his seat, and you figured he had places to be. “I’d better get going. I have to pick up my son.”
“Your son?” you questioned, furrowing your brows. The confusion was fake, of course. You had a hunch that he was a father, but you had never seen or heard the child to confirm your suspicions. 
“Yes, my son,” Mark gave you a hard stare that you couldn’t make out. “It’s Friday and he stays with me this weekend so please, if not for my sake then for his, keep it down.” 
You gave Mark a nod. He bid you farewell and made a break for the door, the chime of the bells letting you know that he was gone. He had wanted to stay for a bit, play for a little longer, but decided it was a good thing he didn’t get much of a chance to make a move. For now, Mark was intent on observing you. He wanted to figure you out a bit more before he went to first base. 
But damn was he interested. There was something about you a couple of moments ago that he was attracted to, how you seemed equally bold as he was. A stark contrast from the first time he met you, but he figured that he had simply caught you at a bad time. 
That was the thing, though - Mark didn’t know you. He needed more time before he could be sure you were worth it.
For at least the weekend, you obliged Mark’s wishes. As aforementioned, you were a great deal of things, but you weren’t petty for the wrong reasons. Or outright odd. It wasn’t like you were loud for the sake of it, you truly just never realized what you were capable of. 
Over the course of those days, you continued to think about Mark. He had cut deep in your imagination and now there was a permanent scar that refused to heal. It was silly, being so hung over a guy you hardly knew and couldn’t have, but you couldn’t help it. 
Mark was giving you a headache. You weren’t one to be indecisive over what you wanted, but that wasn’t the case here. From the moment he showed up at your doorstep, you knew that you had to have him. The problem was that you wanted to outline boundaries. There were places you were able to step and then there were places you weren’t. The last thing you wanted was to scare him away because of your urges. 
The third time you saw Mark was the following weekend, bumping into him in the halls. You were going to apologize, but then his face fell into your vision. And thus, you noticed something completely new about it. 
“You have a stubble,” you commented, nearly gawking. 
Mark bobbed his head, grinning. He found it interesting how you gazed up at him as if you’d never seen a man with a stubble before. “Yeah. That’s what happens when you don’t shave. Shocking, I know.” 
“I kind of like it.”
He snickered. “Only kinda?”
More than kind of - and while you weren’t afraid to admit it, you ignored his question. The stubble was the completion to Mark’s physical attractiveness that you hadn’t even known you would be into. He was already hot as hell, though now he was somehow even hotter. 
He shot you a smug smile, unable to miss the way that you leered at him. You found him attractive. It was no secret and Mark wasn’t sure if you intended for it to be or not, though the way that you were unabashedly fucking him with your eyes gave him a huge hint. After last weekend’s encounter, you didn’t strike him as the type to shy away very easily. Confident. 
So was he. 
“You’re just standing here watching me like you want to eat me. Do you like it that much?” 
There were a couple of routes you could take with that question. Either you could be honest and tell him how you felt, or you could beat around the bush. You chose the former. 
“Sight for sore eyes,” you replied, finally meeting his eyes. He held eye contact with you as well as the expectation that you would break, but you proved him wrong. You kept looking him in his eyes as you said, “I love it. I think it suits the fuck out of you.”
Mark raised a brow, intrigued by your response. “Mm,” he hummed. He moved a step closer to you and asked, “What else do you like?” 
Your breath began to speed up and so did your pulse when you picked up on how close your bodies were. You were hyper aware of the proximity and it was slowly killing you, setting off visceral reactions in your body. Another inch and his lips would be brushing yours. It felt like a test on your behalf - to see how you would react and if you would chicken out - and you utterly refused to back down from the challenge. 
Deflecting, you tore your eyes from his lips and asked back, “Initiating a conversation with me in the middle of the hallway?” 
He cocked his head to the side. “Do you wanna come in, then?”
“I don’t think your girlfriend would like that very much,” you faked a pout, the most subtle sullen undertone hiding in your sentence. 
Mark resisted a grin. It was probable you were indirectly determining whether or not he was single. But the tiniest hint of sadness in your voice suggested that you might have genuinely been under the impression he was in a relationship. 
“What girlfriend?” He threw you an utterly confused look. “I haven’t been in a relationship since the birth of Christ.” 
You stared at him with genuine surprise. “I saw you sucking some girl’s face like last week.” 
“And have you seen her around here again since?” Mark scoffed, amused. 
What he was implying began to sink in gradually and you realized that you had made an awfully large assumption the other day. Though in your defense, people making out with their hookups like that was completely unheard of to you. It looked too passionate, especially for the morning after. When you had nothing to quip, Mark made a face at you that made you want to sink into the ground, and added, “She’s not my girlfriend - she was a fling. We had sex the previous night but I’m sure you weren’t able to tell because unlike someone, I know how to be quiet.”
Was. That meant not any more. 
Affronted, and refusing to take that, you took a step back and shot, “Maybe your dick game is just weak if she’s that quiet.”
“You wanna find out?” Mark cocked his head to the side with an exasperating smile, taking a step forward for every step you took backwards until your back hit a wall. It was obvious that you were trying to get a rise out of him and he wouldn’t take the bait. “Don’t knock it until you try it.”
Mark’s hands were on either side of you and his gaze rooted you in place. Neither of you seemed to give a damn that you were in public and in the view of a security camera. You kept staring at one another, pupils dilated with obvious want. Now that you were aware that Mark was single you deemed it perfectly safe to cave in to your desires, but you weren’t sure if you wanted to - yet. It was funny how whenever you finally got what you wanted, it was never enough. 
You smiled softly, matching the little smirk on his face - you didn’t want him to think that he had an advantage over you, and whether he did or didn’t wasn’t relevant. “Are you saying that you want me?” 
“I do want you,” Mark confessed without a care. He had no true intention of sleeping with you just yet, wanting to get to know you some more, but it wouldn’t hurt to admit that he was attracted to you nonetheless. “Do you want me?”
Seductively, you leered at him, then purred, “So bad.”
“Then, stop deflecting.”
With one little breath, you said, “Fine,” then closed the tiny gap between the both of you and your lips. When he kissed you back, your hands sought for his neck and his hooked around your waist. 
As you kissed Mark it only became more fierce, tongues and teeth clashing in attempts to maintain dominance over the other. Yet neither of you would cave. Both of you were fighting fire with fire and it was like nothing that either of you had ever experienced before. Mark displayed a clear need for power and control, and while you weren’t against letting him have it, you were never one to give it away that easily. 
You tugged on Mark’s hair, wanting to feel him as close as possible. His calloused hands began to wander all over you, kneading your skin and making you moan softly into his mouth. You could feel him grinning against your lips. His touch was like fire and your body was already burning with lust, desire, and everything in between. It had been so long since someone last touched you like this, kissed you like this. Mark was filling in all the little gaps and empty spaces. 
A rough pull at his locks made Mark groan into your mouth and he pinned your hands above your head, up against the wall. He got rougher, as if he was trying to fit you into the wall - or maybe force you through it. But the fervor was welcome, and although he had pinned your hands above your head, you still kissed him with as much eagerness as you were humanly capable. 
You pulled away when you had your fill, knowing that if you kept him close to you any longer you would make a move for his clothes, and your exhibitionism kink only extended so far. The both of you stared at one another with sheer lust, but there was an almost telepathic understanding between you. We have to wait. 
Out of breath, you casted Mark a flirtatious wink and smile before parting and said, “See you later, Mark.”
Then, you sashayed back to your apartment. When you felt his eyes boring holes into your back, you simpered to yourself. You had planted the seed; now all you had to do was let it grow. 
Days of messing around with Mark turned into weeks, but both of you were yet to succumb to your temptations. It was like you were waiting for the other to give in first and neither of you wanted to grant the other that satisfaction. 
But of course, after planting the seed you had to water it and give it sunshine. In other words, you continued to flirt with Mark, maintaining his interest. And in return, he maintained yours. From anyone else’s point of view it might have seemed silly to be resisting each other when it was clear as day that the lust was mutual, but you and Mark were too alike. Too much pride, and too much adoration for all things thrill and tension.
Even when he wasn’t in your company, Mark was on your mind. It had only gotten worse the moment you kissed him. In the beginning you only thought about him occasionally - mostly whenever you saw or heard him - but now he was creeping into your head during your downtime and that was a problem. Your thoughts consisted nearly completely of him. Mark, Mark, Mark. He was all you could think about. 
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One weekend, you surprisingly encountered Mark at a playground. He appeared shocked to see you, but only let it show for a brief moment.
“I’m beginning to think that you’re the one stalking me. What in God’s name are you of all people doing at a playground?”
“Please. You’re not that special. I don’t have the time or energy to stalk anyone, baby,” you drawled with a hint of amusement. You pointed at a little girl. “You see that little girl in the purple shirt on the slide? That’s my niece. I’m babysitting her for my brother and sister-in-law. Today’s their anniversary and they wanted peace.”
Mark bobbed his head, understanding. “Of course. You can’t have any of that around a child. How old is she?”
“Just turned six about a week ago.” 
“Around my son’s age,” he remarked, then pointed towards the set of swings. A couple of children played over there, but only one young boy was in the group. And he looked almost just like someone you knew. “He’s right there on the swings. Six, but he’s nearing seven.”
He was absolutely adorable. You were already thinking about play dates between him and your niece. She was lovely and enjoyed meeting new people, bless her pure heart. 
You smiled softly with awe. “Stole your whole face. There’s no way in hell you could deny that boy.”
Mark snickered, shoulders shaking. “Damn right. My little mini-me,” he sighed happily. He took his eyes off his son for a split-second to glance over at you. You looked beautiful, as always. And you were watching your niece with so much intent and care that he doubted you had even snook a glance of your own his way. “Fond of kids?” 
“I babysitted throughout college,” you replied pensively. Reminiscent. “Believe it or not. I thought it was my calling because I was so responsible and the parents always praised me, plus it was a huge step towards individuality. Grew up with a lot of siblings and relatives, too, so I’ve always been around children.” 
Mark grinned, satisfied. That was the answer he wanted to hear. He was only curious because he was interested in you, and before he jumped too far ahead he needed to know what you thought about children. It was a relief that you had so much tenderness for and resonated so well with them. That gave him all the more reasons to want you by his side. “What about you?” he asked, adding when your face scrunched about with confusion, “Do you want kids of your own?” 
There was no reluctance in your answer, like you had already thought long and hard about the question before. “Someday. When I’m married and sure I’ve chosen the right person to settle down and have kids with. And when I have a less demanding job so that I’m able to take care of my family and spend time with them,” you said, smiling wistfully. “My parents were busy people. They weren’t around a whole lot so me and my siblings practically raised each other.” 
Mark gave you a look. One you could make out as pity. You thought his response would be predictable, but it caught you by surprise. “You don’t want to be pitied, do you?” 
You blinked, genuinely unsure of how to respond for a moment. Then you broke into a broad grin and said, “Nope.” 
“I feel for you anyways,” Mark gave a playful nudge to your side with his elbow. “And I think you have beautiful visions for the future. I can tell you’re gonna be a great mother.” 
You thanked him in a way that was positively bashful. For a while, you and Mark chatted about whatever the hell you wanted - topics in relation to the children, personal life, and everything in between. After the day you and Mark kissed, a more mutual effort to get to know each other blossomed. Mark told you everything there was to know about his job. Most of the time he worked from home without much need for overseer authorization, and set his own hours. As someone who loved being in control, it suited him. 
It was alarming that you had gotten so personal so fast. You had only known each other for a month, more or less, and only really began talking a couple of weeks ago. Yet you felt comfortable enough to share a certain level of information that you normally would conceal. 
You were becoming close in every sense of the word. The tension between you and Mark never fizzled out, it only seemed to grow more, and more, and more, until it would eventually explode in your faces. By then, you would have no choice but to confront it directly. You couldn’t wait. 
Mark wrapped his arm around your waist, and peered down briefly to look at it. Contact drove you crazy. You loved having Mark’s hands on you, even in non-sexual ways. 
He pulled you into him and asked, “How long are you keeping her?”
“Just until five. I’m taking her to her grandma’s after this,” you replied, shifting your gaze back to the playground. But a smug smile tugged your lips. “Why?”
There was a shine in Mark’s pretty brown eyes. It was almost five. Voice tickling your neck, he leaned in to say bluntly, “Because I wanna take you for a ride. Are you down?” 
You casted him an observant glance over your shoulder. What Mark wanted was clear, or so you thought, but you were in the mood for playing hard to get. As per usual. “Dunno. What kind of ride?” 
“The kind where we get in my car and go whatever the road and a full tank of gas leads us,” Mark shrugged. “It’s a yes-no question, doll. Are you down, or not?” 
Doll. That was new. You had reached the pet name stage, calling each other ‘baby’ a couple of times, but ‘doll’ was new. It also had you wishing that you were both alone so that you could do something about how badly you craved Mark in that moment. 
“I’m down. Meet me outside the complex at six?” You questioned, peering up at him yet again. You smiled when you met his eyes, unable to resist the urge. Mark made you feel good inside, all warm and gross. It was a delight to know you were still capable of feeling such a way. After all, it had been so long since the last time. 
Mark nodded and smiled back. “I will. Child-less, so that we can have peace of our own.” 
You giggled into his chest. You could smell his scent, and it was heavenly. 
At six o’clock, Mark was waiting for you downstairs like he said that he would be. And he was child-less. You both were. 
Ever the gentleman, he opened the passenger door of his car for you and shut it once you were completely inside. Of course, it took more than simple courtesy to impress you, but something about it was making you giggle. Something you couldn’t pinpoint.
Mark gave you a look once he settled in the driver’s seat. “What’s funny?” 
“Chivalry,” you sighed, smiling. “Apparently, it’s not dead.”
Mark was amused, but held back a snort. You were occasionally ridiculous, but just the right amount. He could tolerate it. 
As he gripped the steering wheel, the car jerked to live underneath his fingertips, and soon you were both rolling. You said nothing for a little while, Mark focusing on the road and you peering out the window. The silence wasn’t awkward, but he cut on the radio and began to hum the song that was currently playing. 
You glanced at him witheringly, but he was unbothered. Then, you teased with a grin, “Oh, yeah. Show out, Beyoncé.” 
“Stop being a hater,” Mark groaned, then went back to singing. 
After some moments of teasing, you were finally content and gave it a rest, relaxing into the leather seat. You were happy. If anyone had told you a month ago that you’d be in your new neighbor’s car listening to him sing songs from the radio, you would have called them insane. But you weren’t stupid and you knew better than to vulnerate yourself to a stranger. You told a couple friends about him and realized why Mark had seemed familiar - because he was. One of them knew Mark and was able to vouch for him, assuring you he was a good guy. That was why you felt so goddamn free. 
It was peaceful, being alone with Mark. Whenever you weren’t both determined to get into each other’s pants, that was. But there was none of that right now - only the scenery whirling by at the pace of the lightning, the radio prevailing over the silence, and Mark by your side. And you by his. It felt too damn nice. 
“You never answered my question that day.”
“Hm?” you gazed at him, confused. By his sentence and sudden will to ignite conversation, although you didn’t mind. “What question?”
Mark’s hand left the steering wheel and dropped to your thigh, which undoubtedly didn’t go unnoticed by you. He didn’t move it, but you couldn’t ignore his fingers on your skin. “I asked you, what else do you like?” 
“About you, or in general?”
He shrugged. “Whatever gets you talking.”
You gazed through the windshield, pretending to be pondering deeply. “Well, in general, I like a bunch of things. I’ve got a penchant for poetry and music. This tends to shock people, but parties aren’t my scene. I’m a more reserved person. I love the color blue.” 
“Why blue?”
“Because it looks amazing on me,” you winked. 
“Mm,” Mark glanced at you fleetingly through the rear-view mirror. That was when his fingers started moving, kneading your thigh. “What else?” 
“Hm, well,” you began, pretending to be unbothered by his touch. In reality, you were melting with every move. “About you, there’s a lot for me to like, too. You’re confident, smart, funny, sexy,” then you licked your lips and added, “And an excellent kisser.” 
Mark grinned, hand still massaging your bare skin. “What a sweet-talker you are. Keep going,” he whispered, then gave your thigh a little squeeze. 
But you were honest. There were too many things you admired about Mark that led you to becoming drawn to him in such a little period of time. Just as easily as he had been able to make you tell him things, you had persuaded him into opening up. There was still so much to learn about each other on deeper levels, but time was your best friend. For now, you decided that you would tell him what you already knew. 
“I like the way you put so much care and effort into what you love. I’ve heard you talk about your son, your friends, your job. You never neglect anything,” you confessed, smiling fondly as you recalled the conversations you’d had. “I like how we’re similar, too. I think that’s part of the reason why we feel comfortable moving so fast. We’re cut from the same cloth. We both know what we want and when and how we want it, and we’re not afraid to go get it. It’s like playing a damn game of tug of war whenever I’m with you.”
“Or a very calculated game of chess,” Mark added, shaking his head with amusement. 
You giggled. “But there’s something about you that’s so… alluring. I’m attracted to it. You’re a hardworking borderline control freak that’s unafraid of sincerity. I love it.”
“Romantic. I’m swooning,” he deadpanned, throwing you a playful glare. 
“And you’re the right amount of sarcastic.” 
“And that’s what gets you going?”
“Baby, please. If I could kiss you right fucking now, I would,” you admitted. 
Mark said nothing, but his fingers kept fondling with your flesh, and your breath kept getting out of control. He gave your thigh another reassuring squeeze, letting you know he heard you. 
Forest views took over. You pressed your fingertips to the window glass and watched as the rapid blur of scenes that once consisted of neon city lights turned green. Moss-coated branches replaced them, last rays of sunlight filtering through them as you neared the woods and the gravel roads turned to dirt. 
“Woods, very spooky. Are you gonna kill me and hide my body out here?” you asked him humorously, watching as he drove you through the wild.
Mark didn’t take his eyes off the road as he replied, “And dump it in the lake.” 
“Lake?”
He smiled. “You’ll see.” 
You did see a lake. Mark parked his car near some trees and once he helped you outside, led you down a trail until you reached a bridge. It was long and stretched above a medium body of water. Blossoming flowers lived in the grass and the scent was earthy. You stretched ever so slightly over the railing and saw yours and Mark’s reflection staring back at you. 
There were little fountains in the lake. Creatures made the water ripple and you watched with Mark’s arm wrapped around your waist as the smell and sound of nature filled your senses. Ducks pecked around the land edges of the lake in hunt of food. 
“It’s beautiful,” you exhaled in awe. The clouds and setting sun peered down on the water and you wished that you had your camera on your person. It was a sight too gorgeous to let become nothing more than a memory fading at the back of your head. 
Mark bobbed his head in agreement. The corners of his lips tugged upwards as he said, “It is. I come here from time to time whenever I need to clear my head. It’s a nice place that I’ve always wanted to share with someone.” 
“You trust me enough to share it with me?” you teased, palms on his chest as you gazed up at his face. “I mean, like what if I get arrested for tax fraud and every time you come here all you can think about is your old neighbor that got sent to prison for evading her taxes.” 
“Then, you better do your taxes, or else I’ll be right after you when you get out. For attempted murder.” 
You made a face of faux fear. “Shiver me timbers!” 
Somehow, Mark pulled you closer and gave you a kiss on the cheek. Any closer and you were sure he would be able to feel how fast your heart was beating. It was safe to say that you had a little crush on your neighbor. You wanted him to an extent that words couldn’t capture. 
There was something different with Mark. Linger was the perfect word to describe how his every action affected you. When he kissed you, you could still feel his lips on you moments afterwards. His every touch lingered on you, even the barest ones. You could taste him on you, his scent lingered on your body - it was too much. But Mark was too persistent. Even if you wanted to, and you didn’t, you couldn’t get away. 
Mark looked at you as if he wanted to kiss you, but to your misfortune, he didn’t. Instead his lips parted to say, “Watch the sunset with me.” 
Obediently, you turned to face the railing, which pleased him. He moved behind you and tightened his grip on your waist. 
The sunset was beautiful, even more so with Mark’s company. The two of you made conversation, all the while watching how the sky that was once a pleasant array of colors dulled a deep indigo. The sun descended below the horizon and its reflection in the water was replaced by the moon.
And you - the moonlight illuminated every inch of your face. Mark had always thought that you were gorgeous, but the moonlight made your beauty criminal. He couldn’t hold himself back any longer. 
“I can’t control myself anymore,” Mark growled. At first, you were confused, but when he whirled you around and pressed his lips against yours, you quickly understood. 
Mark backed you against the railing, cornering you. Kissing him was too much fun. It was the same battle, the same fervent effort to compel one of you to submit to the other’s touch, yet both of you always held out, keeping your white flags lowered. Mark had never met anyone that challenged him this much, and you had never met anyone so desperate to prove a point. 
When one of you pulled away, you not only were breathing heavily, but dangerously turned on. Your despires were no longer pure wants - they were needs. 
“Mark,” you exhaled through shallow breaths, “Please.” 
Mark cocked a brow, incredulous, yet amused. “You’re begging?” 
You nodded, casting him a needy glance that nearly made him want to give you everything you wanted then and there. It wounded your pride to beg him to do anything, but you weren’t necessarily above it anymore. Lust made you do anything - and it was flowing rapidly through your bloodstream. “Please, I want it.”
That much was entertaining to him, although Mark still didn’t want to give himself to you yet. It wasn’t that he wasn’t willing to have sex with you, but he wanted to bide his time. He wanted things a specific way and hooking up with you in his car simply wasn’t ideal. 
Mark shook his head. “I’m not fucking you in my car.” 
You pursed your lips and fought back the best way you knew how, huffing, “Why not? Don’t wanna fuck up your expensive seats? Car sex virgin?” 
“My first time was in the back of a car,” Mark told you matter-of-factly, being sure to smile in the most menacing way possible. It was only deserved for the way you left him that day that you kissed him. You wanted to kiss that stupid grin off his face, but you thought he didn’t deserve it. “And everything I wanna do to you can’t happen in a car. You’ve been patient all this time, baby, you can wait a little more.” 
“Ever the elaborate controlling perfectionist are you,” you drawled, faux aggravation to your tone.
Mark entwined his fingers with yours. “But you love that about me.”
“I never said that.”
“Oh? Must I remind you of your little love confession in my car earlier?” he teased. 
You rolled your eyes. “No, thank you. But I will be expecting a four-page love letter detailing everything you like about me in the mail signed ‘Markie Pooh’ soon. I like to be courted.” 
Mark gave your forehead a chaste peck, grinning as he joked, “I’ll enclose it with a kiss.” 
You giggled. 
Soon, Mark drove you back home and you were kissing him goodbye. It was a dramatic farewell, considering you lived right next door to him, but tonight had been magical and you were wondering where the time had gone. All you wanted to do was freeze time and kiss Mark on that bridge forever. 
But you were also sick to your stomach that he still wasn’t in your guts. And tonight, you had a plan that would undoubtedly make him snap and give you what you wanted. 
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Last night, you gave yourself the release that your body was begging for, since Mark refused to fulfill your desires himself. And you made sure to be loud so that your intentions were obvious - ever since the last time he asked you to keep it down, you began doing an impressive job at suppressing your noises, muffling them into your pillow or biting your lip. But not last night. You called it being petty for the right reasons. That was what you were, and rather proudly. 
For a little extra flare, you moaned Mark’s name. As much as it was you being petty for the sake of setting him off, it was also a self-indulging experience. Fantasizing about your neighbor was what brought you to the edge quicker than anything, and you came harder than ever with the thought of him on your mind. 
Mark didn’t text you the following day. Usually, you would find time through your hectic work hours to chat, and you would spend the better half of your lunch break typing away at your phone, but it was radio silence. 
It was weird. Maybe you and Mark were alike in more ways than you thought, and he was also extremely petty. But for the wrong reasons, in your opinion. 
When you came home from work, Mark was standing outside his door, waiting. He leaned against it and stared you down. 
“Had fun last night?” 
Pretending to be oblivious as to what he was referencing, you played dumb and answered, “You mean, at the bridge? Of course. When are we going again?” 
“Don’t play dumb with me,” Mark chastised, glaring. “I heard you last night. You seemed like you were having a good time, you know, moaning my name and all like a slut.” 
Never had it ever crossed your mind that you would enjoy Mark calling you a slut, yet here you were, becoming more and more aroused the longer you pushed his buttons. With his commitment to patience, you typically never got much fun out of it, but right now he was approaching his limit and you were anticipating every second of it. 
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you replied, searching for your keys and acting as if you were paying him no mind. 
Mark wasn’t having any of it. For weeks you had all been all over each other, the mutual lust long-established, though now you were suddenly disregarding him and it was with one clear intention in mind. He wasn’t going to give in to your tricks, but he would play along with your little game. And he was going to win. 
The little remaining bits of restraint he had suddenly exhausted and Mark gripped your wrists, ignoring the sound of surprise you uttered as he dragged you into his apartment. The door slammed shut in your trail and he pushed you up against it, pinning your arms above your head as he began to kiss you with urgency. 
Kissing Mark was exhilarating. Whenever his lips were flush against yours, it was as if time stopped. Everything seemed to slow down but the dangerously rapid thud of your heart against your chest and the spreading wildfire in your body. You made an attempt to free your wrists from his seemingly tightening touch, writhing against him with desire to touch him, yet whatever strength you had Mark had more and you were unable to overpower his might. 
“Mark,” you exhaled, pulling away to catch your breath. “I want to touch you.” 
He hummed, an idea slithering into his brain. “If you want to so bad, then beg.”
You narrowed your eyes at him, slightly incredulous, yet the feeling dissipated when you remembered who exactly you were talking to. Scowling, you said, “I begged you once and now you’re getting too used to it.” 
“If you want to get your way when it comes to me, then you better start getting used to it. Now, do you wanna get your pretty little hands on me, or not?” 
You sighed. “I do.”
Mark gave you an expecting look. “Then, beg.” 
“You want me to get on my knees, too?” you deadpanned, shooting him a sharp glare that he seemed utterly unbothered by - and it exasperated you. 
The grin on his lips then was infuriating. “Don’t worry, you’ll do that later.” 
Ignoring the very obvious implication of those words, you made a face, but the look in Mark’s eyes when you met his gaze was so goddamn commanding. The dominance to his aura that you had been so intent on destroying was finally getting to you. 
“Please,” you whimpered, trying to ignore how pathetic you sounded. “Let me touch you, Mark, please.” 
Satisfied, Mark let go of your wrists and his lips immediately fell back on yours, the need to kiss you resurfacing. It was like resuming, pressing play and pause. There was something about hearing and seeing you beg - especially against your will - that he found so arousing. You were so resistant to his dominance and it was all too entertaining to see you finally succumb. 
Your hands raced to his shirt and with his own assistance, you hiked it above his head, hands flying to his chest afterwards. For a moment, your eyes opened to ogle at him, wallowing in the sight of his bare skin. Mark began to tug at your blouse and you both began to undress one another, leaving a trail of clothes behind you as you both headed to his bedroom. 
By the time you got to his bed, you were stripped down to nothing but your undergarments. Lying flat on your back, you watched as Mark took his sweet time to crawl over you. His hand moved at an agonizingly slow pace from your thighs, to your stomach, to your clothed breasts. You felt as if your breath was stuck in your throat as you anticipated what he would do next, and he finally leaned in your ear, whispering, “You do look good in blue.” 
He kissed you there for a little longer, heated and passionate, then pulled you up and said, “Get on your knees.” 
Submissively, you sank to the floor without a fight, which both pleased and surprised Mark. Though the little sly grin playing on your lips was a good enough indicator that you were planning something. And you were. Any other time you would have refused to listen to him without first making an attack on his pride, but you were skilled with your tongue and had a line of people you’d been with to show for it. 
You were resolved to make him unravel - and you would. 
The bulge of his dick was prominent through his underwear, of which you tugged down in desperate haste. You had wanted a taste of him for only God knows how long. 
His dick sprung against his stomach and by then your mouth was watering. You took him into your palm, smiling up at Mark as you began to leisurely pump him. Your efforts to tease him only became worse, intentionally letting your lips graze the head of his dick every now and then, giving him false hope that you’d finally get to the best part. 
“Don’t tease me, doll. You won’t like what’ll happen if you keep up,” Mark warned. 
“Punish me, Mark,” you said, smiling broadening. 
He wasn’t given the chance to respond before you took his cock into your mouth, a little grunt leaving his mouth instead. You were taking him into your mouth bit by bit, efforts to tease him still lingering. Mark grabbed a fistful of your hair and held it behind your neck. 
Mark, a man of patience, was beginning to lose the thing he clung to most. He used your hair to force you down on him some more. “Stop fooling around and take it, baby. Put your mouth to good use for once.” 
In pursuit of spiting him, you fooled around for a moment longer, though finally gave up contentedly after you figured that you’d frustrated him enough. Soon you were steadily bobbing your head up and down his length, cheeks hollowed, his fingers gripping your hair to control your movements to an extent. 
The wet sound of your mouth sucking his dick and his little noises of pleasure echoed throughout the bedroom. You smiled to yourself slyly at a thought you were having. Mark was a groaner. 
He sounded heavenly. You were quick to discover his weaknesses, catching on to how he became noisier. Mark wasn’t the loudest guy that you’d been with, fairly moderate, but he was still unable to hide the signs that said loud and clear you were making him feel good. You looked up at him through your eyelashes and saw how pleasure was written all over his face, lips parted and his eyes closing from time to time. 
That drove Mark borderline insane, you peering up at him like that - and you had already known that it would. At the end of the day, Mark was simply a man, after all. And you had men all figured out. 
“Good girl. Just like that,” he praised, pushing your head down a little more. 
Your fingers wrapped around the base of his cock and you stroked him all the while sucking him off, tasting pre-cum on your tongue. You could feel him twitching in your mouth and it was a pleasure. There was no denying he was close. 
When Mark noticed you slowing down in efforts to tease him, he was displeased and decided that he had enough of your schemes. The loosened, relaxed grip on your hair suddenly tightened and he began to thrust into your mouth, taking control. You were good with your mouth and able to take it deep, but the sudden movement caught you off-guard and you began to gag. 
“Just when I praise you, you decide you wanna be a little fucking brat,” Mark spat, pulling your hair again. “You just can’t listen, can you?”
You glared up at him, tears pricking your eyes, and the sight made him let out a laugh. He knew as well as the next person that you liked acting tough, but with tears in the corners of your eyes and a cock in your mouth, you looked nothing short of pathetic.
He shot you a withering look, adding, “You always act like you have the whole world in the palm of your hands. You try to get under my skin because you want to see me succumb to the same tricks you play on everyone else, but you know I won’t give an inch and you don’t know how to handle it. Wish you could see how pathetic you look when you shut the hell up and take my cock.” 
Right now you wished that he would shut the hell up, but oddly enough, his words were turning you on. You silently prayed that he wouldn’t catch on to how wet you were getting with every passing moment. 
Mark was close. His sentences became raspy, deep groans and his pace was relentless, merciless. Like he was trying to bruise the very back of your throat. It took everything in you not to choke out, but you refused to give him the satisfaction in seeing you in such a vulnerable state. He was already enjoying this too much. 
Mark groaned, “Fuck. You gonna swallow it, babe?”
As a way of saying ‘yes’, you hummed around his shaft and the vibration was making him lose his mind. You swiftly moved one of your palms to wipe at a streak of tears on your cheeks before he noticed. 
You doubted that he did. Mark was in another world, eyes closed as he was overcome by pleasure. The warmth and wetness of your mouth was everything and he was out of control, movements unrestrained. He came in your mouth with a grunt, giving your hair one last violent tug as his climax struck his body. You milked him dry, taking every bit of his cum in your mouth that you could possibly manage. 
There was a noise when you rolled him out of your mouth, looking him in his eyes immediately afterwards. Mark was breathless, and so were you, but he could only smile. 
You gave him a look, voice slightly hoarse from the throat-fucking as you asked, “What?” 
“Nothing,” he replied, smile unfaltering, but it was obviously something. “I’m simply enjoying the way you look with spit and my cum on your lips and chin.” 
You rolled your eyes and wiped yourself clean with the back of your hand. “And I was enjoying the way you looked like you were on the verge of losing your shit.” 
“Funny how you’re only quiet when you have a dick in your mouth.”
Wittily, you retorted, “Maybe I would shut up if you fucked me.” 
Instead of giving you an immediate response, Mark pulled you back onto the mattress, hovering above you as you lay flat on your back. “Mm-hm. That’s why you were moaning my name so loud last night, right? Because you wanted my dick?”
One of his palms slipped underneath the band of your underwear and you let out a little cry of surprise when you felt his fingers brushing against your arousal. You were holding in your breath. It had been so long since anyone had you like this and you were touch-starved, feeling completely deprived of sex and nearly the memory of what it was like. 
His free hand gave a loud, resounding smack to your thigh, and you yelped. “That was a question, doll.” 
“Yes,” you choked out. “Please. I want it so bad, Mark.”
“So wet, all for me,” he sighed with bliss. His fingers were now plunging inside your pussy, sliding in and out with ease. You hadn’t been this wet in ages. “How long has it been since you were last with someone?”
“I don’t know, like three months,” you guessed, not really wanting to think about it when his touch was all you could focus on. “A really long fucking time, basically.” 
Mark made a face, surprised. “No wonder you’re so damn needy.”
His teasing did nothing to help and you were quickly growing impatient. There was no need to explain why it had been so long, you were certain he already knew. With your work schedule there was rarely time to meet new people and you had no one to come home to. But Mark made it too goddamn easy, and considering how hard you worked, you could use a good fuck. 
“It’ll be a year by the time you fuck me,” you grumbled, impatient. What more did he want you to do? You sucked him off, begged, and yet he was still torturing you by resisting. It was like he was deliberately trying to get you to lose your goddamn mind, and knowing Mark, you wouldn’t put it past him. It was working. 
Mark said nothing, looking at you blithely. And hungrily. There was still a layer of clothes obstructing the view of your bare skin, and greedily his hands flew to the band of your underwear. You bit back a whimper at the feeling of being suddenly empty, but Mark tore your panties past your ankles, and your bra immediately followed as he tugged on the straps. 
The sight of your naked body had Mark’s dick throbbing and he swore then that you were Aphrodite. You were driving him past the brink of insanity. He had envisaged your body in his dreams and fantasies, though nothing could have prepared him for how beautiful you looked sprawled out on his sheets and he could only think one thing. Goddamn. 
That was it for him. He was still resolved to tease you to sheer hell, but he could keep playing your games while inside of you.
You made a tiny gasp when you felt the head of Mark’s cock prod your folds. The sight of your pussy was his kryptonite - you were dripping with arousal. You wanted him so badly and he wanted you just as much. He pushed the tip in with a raspy groan and made a couple slow, shallow thrusts. 
Then a couple turned into too many for you to count and you were becoming impatient. More than you already were. “Mark, hurry the hell up,” you grumbled. 
“Mm, no. I think I’ll keep going like this,” Mark teased. After the way you treated him only moments ago, he wasn’t the least bit sympathetic. “I told you, you weren’t going to like what happened if you kept teasing me. Now look.” 
Just like he said you wouldn’t, you weren’t liking this. He was agonizingly slow, not deep enough, and it was all deliberate. Karma was a fucking bitch. 
“Fuck you,” you spat, insincere. 
Mark was totally unbothered, seemingly paying you no mind as he replied, “That’s no way to talk to the man who you’re so wet for. Ask me nicely and maybe I’ll reconsider.” 
Holding back a groan in fear of his changing his mind about reconsidering, you tidied up the sentence you were preparing to say to him and fixed your tone. “Mark, can you please move faster?” 
“Don’t you sound so sweet when you ask like a good girl,” Mark sang. Before you could muster a response, he finally thrusted completely into you and you moaned. The way your pussy gripped him was his vice, and you stretched to accommodate his size. 
In no time he also discarded his formerly slow pace and adopted a new, speedier one. The way he was pounding you was so deep and perfect and you grabbed his shoulders, desperately needing something to cling to.
This type of experience used to only exist in your head. More often than not, you winded up touching yourself to the thought of the man before you as a way to cope with your stress and lechery. You would close your eyes and picture his dark hair matted by sweat, his face scrunched up with pleasure. You would imagine the noises that he’d make when he finally felt the grip of your pussy around his dick, the way your body responded to his every touch. It got you off too quick, tempting you to march over to his apartment and demand he finished the job. 
But you never did. You wanted to see him lose his patience - and you did. 
“Pussy’s so damn tight,” Mark groaned, which made you grin smugly. You knew that already. 
Mark leaned low and began to press soft kisses into your skin, his thumb brushing over your stiff nipples. He found you utterly beautiful, no flaw in his eyes. The breathy sounds you were making in response felt like hearing an angel. 
Although you were enjoying yourself, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing and said, “Don’t be gentle with me, baby.”
Mark smiled softly. “I don’t plan to be, doll.” 
When Mark was finished with your breasts, his mouth replaced them, beginning to latch roughly onto your neck. Which made you sigh out in bliss. The feeling of his teeth digging sharply into your flesh made you certain that he was going to leave Mark’s, and you were too fond of it. You wanted Mark to make you his. 
Everything was too much in the best way possible. You were intoxicated by the feeling of Mark’s bare cock between your walls, striking the sweetest parts of you. Your mouth parted in too-loud moans of his name. 
He gripped your throat, looking you dead in the eyes as he commanded, “Be fucking quiet.”
That made you clench around his length. At first, your eyes widened, but you recovered swiftly and your lips curled into a broad smile as you met Mark’s gaze. The look on your face right then made his cock twitch. 
“You like that, huh?” he asked, tightening the grip around your neck. You couldn’t get a single coherent word out, choking, but the way your eyes rolled to the back of your head was more than the perfect answer. 
Mark let go of your throat after a moment and began to watch the way your cunt swallowed him whole. It was satisfying to have you at his disposal like this. He was hell bent on taming you, no matter how many fucks it took; the more the merrier. He couldn’t get enough of the way you felt - warm, wet walls clamping tightly around his size - and he knew deep down that there was no way in hell this would be the last time. 
There was no going back. He was set on you; you on him. You were different from anyone he had ever been with before, you were a challenge. Brats were something he never thought he would be fond of, wallowing in the fact that most women bent to his will. But you caught onto his behavior fast and opposed it, resolved to break down his walls, and he was game. Mark never went down without a fight, though neither did you, and he liked it too damn much. 
Taming you was fun. It was something he never knew that he needed until you suddenly came into his life, providing him a little thrill and excitement on a silver platter. You were so much like him that it was all too easy to read you, to find out what made you tick. And making you feel defeated was what he got out of trying to put a leash on your wildness. 
Not too long after, you were moaning in a chant, “Mark,” his words forewarning you to be quiet going in one ear and out of the other. You couldn’t help it. It felt perfect. He was so deep and so thick, making you feel full. 
“Brat,” Mark hissed, shaking his head. But with how utterly disobedient you were he didn’t bother to scold you again, taking matters into his own hands by picking your panties and shoving them into your mouth. “That’ll shut you up.” 
There was an instant sound of protest and likely you cursing at him, considering how you narrowed your eyes at him, but there was no way for him to tell. Mark smiled tauntingly. “Can’t hear you, babe,” he said.
You raised your middle finger in a silent retaliation, but Mark retaliated back even quicker and lifted your hands above your head, pinning them down to the mattress. You felt so fucking powerless, yet Mark had so much power over you and your body. It wasn’t fair. 
It wasn’t long before you could finally sense your orgasm building up, a dam on the very verge of breaking loose. Everything felt otherworldly and you swore that you were no longer breathing. Like you were gone, but your body was still physically alive and well. Pleasure ripped through every last vein in your bare body and consumed it in its entirety, swallowing you in its mass. 
Mark’s pace was merciless, and when he moved one of his hands to wrap around your throat, so was the tight squeeze on both sides. It was damn near bruising and your eyes were fluttering, but you didn’t want him to stop. You were internally begging that he wouldn’t. 
Your panties fell from your mouth and you took the opportunity to ask with a struggle, “Can I please cum, Mark?” 
“Let go for me, babe,” Mark grunted, resisting the urge to comment on how pathetic you sounded asking for permission in your hoarse little voice. It came to him as a pleasant surprise, and a satisfying sound that left his dick throbbing. 
There was no need to tell you twice. You came with one last cry of his name, back arching as you began to come undone. It was explosive, your entire body reacting to the intensity of it. Your toes clenched and your pussy gripped relentlessly around his shaft. You swore that you were beginning to see stars. 
Mark pulled out and came on your stomach with a deep sexy groan, the sight and sound of you at your very climax triggering his own orgasm consecutively. His hands loosened their grip and set you free, and soon you were both lying flat on his bed, panting heavily. 
“So,” he began through shallow breaths, and you braced yourself for whatever he could have possibly said next. “How’s that for a weak dick game?” 
You glanced at him confused, then suddenly broke into a fit of laughter after you recalled what he was referencing. You had insulted his game. “I take it back,” you replied. “It’s alright.”
Mark raised a brow. “Just alright? Like I didn’t have to put your panties in your mouth because you wouldn’t stop screaming my name?” 
“I was not screaming.”
“You were screaming. And…,”
Before he could add anything else - and you knew he would, refusing to let you live anything that happened today down - you smashed your lips against his and carded your fingers through his hair, effectively shutting him up. Mark kissed back with joy, smiling against your lips. All of the other kisses that you two shared had consisted of rough, unrestrained attempts at dominating one another, but this was slow and sweet. It was gentle, and dare you say loving. 
“One more round?” you asked when you pulled away. 
Mark snickered. “Don’t tempt me, baby. If we start with one it might become two.”
You licked your lips and grinned. That was useful information. “Nope, I’m tempting you. Now give in.”
Mark gave your lips another kiss, but immediately became distracted once he caught another glimpse of the swell of your breasts. “Damn, baby,” he sighed contentedly, running his hands over the shape. “I just fucking might.” 
Temptations. Oh, how dangerous they were. But caving into them might have been the best decision you’d ever made - and Mark was living proof. 
He was your temptation.
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breadbrobin · 3 months
Text
fate
clarisse la rue x reader — percy jackson and the olympians
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[fem!daughter of apollo reader]
[part 2 to the trees]
summary: clarisse is being weirdly standoffish, and you’re not one to cave to that, no matter how much you like her. and no matter how things go, you still have to get your weapons from the forest.
warnings: swearing, arguing, fighting, monsters, PINING BUT THEYRE IDIOTS, everyone’s so mad at each other rn, kissing (AHHHH), canon typical violence, again probably slightly ooc clarisse but hey i love her anyway
word count: 3.2k
(uhhh so this is probably not what anyone was expecting for part two but this is how i alway a planned it, so here it is!! tag list in reblogs and also thank you for the love on the trees! i love you all so much <3 and i’d die for you just like clarisse and this dumb bitch here would die for each other)
(this is much more enemies to lovers than the first one btw so have fun)
———————————————
the day after capture the flag was always a little tense. of course it was. half the camp had just lost, and not many people at camp were good losers, especially not those who got their butts kicked.
this time, though, there was a new level of tension in the air.
ares kids didn’t often run the flag over the line themselves, and those who did were crowing about it at breakfast, then all morning too.
curiously, clarisse wasn’t. she was eating in silence, picking through her eggs like she was searching for something.
you’d never seen her like that before. no one had. but, it seemed you were the only person to notice. you always were, and you were okay with that.
your brother nudged your arm and shot you a questioning look, but you brushed him off with a smile.
why was clarisse so down? she’d won. what did she have to be upset about? was she mad at you? did you do something to piss her off in the tree? she hadn’t seemed exactly happy when she left.
stuck in your thoughts, you didn’t realise she’d met your eyes until your brother elbowed you.
“ow! what do you want?” you snapped, rubbing your rib cage tenderly.
“clarisse is staring at you,” he said with wide eyes. “dude… what did you do?”
“nothing,” you scoffed and stood up, taking your empty plate to the stack of dirty dishes, trying—and failing—to not look at clarisse as you left.
“y/n, wait up!”
you slowed down for sam as he jogged to catch up to you. there was a newfound bitterness in your mouth when you saw him. you’d never liked him, not like he’d liked you, but you’d never felt like you wanted to be away from him. not like you did in that moment then. but where would you go? to clarisse? yeah, right, she’d laugh in your face, regardless of whatever happened—or might have happened—in that tree.
“what’s up?” you asked. you couldn’t help your voice being drier than usual.
“just wanted to see how those arrows did you? were they good? i can make some more, if you want.” he looked almost eager to do so.
you smiled kindly. he really was sweet. “they were great, thanks, sam. best arrows i’ve ever used, even if i didn’t get too much of a chance to use them.” your steps faltered. “i did leave one in the forest though. i’ll have to get that later.”
your eyes locked on clarisse as she walked towards you down the path. two of her siblings were behind her, laughing, but she wasn’t. in fact, her jaw was set tight and she was glaring. at sam.
“i could come with you?” he suggested. “watch your back. keep you safe, you know?”
clarisse scoffed as she passed. “she doesn’t need you to keep her safe, tool-box.”
that was a little mean. sure, sam carried his tool-box everywhere, but you never know what might need to be fixed! despite yourself, you had to hold in a laugh. your eyes were alight with amusement as you locked gaze with clarisse.
she looked proud of herself, a jaunty grin on her lips. you couldn’t help your gaze dropping to them briefly. she smiled wider. it was infuriating. she now knew what her effect on you was, and she was using it.
“if she needed someone to protect her, she’d come to me, right, angel?” she tilted her head.
your mouth was infuriatingly dry. you nodded. “uh—“
“whatever,” sam snapped. “come on, y/n. let’s go.”
you kind of wanted to stay, but his grip on your arm didn’t leave any room for an argument. you trailed after him as he left, glancing over your shoulder just in time to see clarisse’s face darken with anger.
“angel?” sam scoffed. “who does she think she is?”
“uh…”
“whatever. gods, she’s just so—“ he turned and faced you, almost causing you to bump into his chest. you’d never seen him so intense before. “stay away from her, y/n. seriously. she’s bad news.”
“she’s nice to me,” you protested.
“she’s not nice to anyone. don’t be naive.” he turned on his heel and started to walk away, then turned back, his face softer. “come on. do you want to learn how to weld? you said you did last week.”
did you? you didn’t remember that. but you did vaguely remember a conversation with sam that you spent zoned out and staring at clarisse as she trained, so that was probably it. “oh, no… i have to… train…”
he looked disappointed, but nodded. “okay, that’s cool. maybe another day. or maybe, we can… go for a walk together? or even have lunch on the beach?”
you nodded absently. “maybe.”
“great, it’s a date!”
you frowned. “it’s a what?”
he looked happier than you’d ever seen him. he even kissed your cheek before walking off, a new spring in his step. you stood there for a moment, eyes wide, wondering what the hell just happened. then you heard a scoff from behind you.
when you turned around, clarisse was walking away.
“clarisse,” you said softly, jogging after her. “clarisse, wait!”
“go hang out with your boyfriend, l/n.” she snapped, her arms crossed as she walked. “he’s probably waiting for you so you two can make out in that sweaty little sex dungeon they call a workshop.”
your eyebrows shot up. “okay, first of all, i’m pretty sure it is actually a workshop, and second of all, he’s still not my boyfriend!”
she scoffed again but didn’t answer, stomping up the steps to the ares cabin and stopping at the top, looking down at you.
you felt small under her gaze, but you didn’t back down.
“what are you doing here?” she asked after a moment.
“you said i could come get a new dagger,”you said.
she rolled her eyes and leaned on the porch railing. “and?”
you frowned, looking up at her. “and… i’m here to get one?”
she regarded you for a few seconds in silence, then, just as she was about to speak, a new voice called out.
“clarisse, are you giving out girlfriend privileges already?” one of her brothers, marcus, you thought, stepped into the doorway of the cabin and peered around her to look at you. he looked like a stereotypical son of ares: buff, tall and mean. “that’s cute.” he continued, looking at you like you were an animal in a zoo.
“she’s not my girlfriend,” she scoffed like it was the most ridiculous thing in the world.
well, that hurt.
“yeah, we’re just—“
“we’re not even friends,” she added hurriedly, not even looking at you. “she just thinks she’s special.”
your jaw clenched. that really hurt. “i don’t think i’m special,” you snapped. “i think i want you to honour your word from yesterday or go and get my dagger out of the forest for me.”
“not my fault you forgot your dagger,” she studied her nails nonchalantly.
“but if you hadn’t thrown my dagger out of a tree and tossed my new arrow aside like it was trash then i wouldn’t have forgotten. and maybe if you hadn’t leaned in like you were about to kiss me, maybe i wouldn’t have forgotten either.” your gaze was as sharp as hers was, meeting in the middle with fire and lightning crackling between you.
she stepped forward, face to face with you. for a second, you thought she’d punch you, but you didn’t back down.
then she laughed. it wasn’t at all like her laugh in the tree the day before. this was her cold, cruel laugh that she usually saved for her victims. with a start, you realised that’s what you were: another victim of clarisse la rue. your heart broke for a split second before you pulled yourself together and straightened your back, meeting her eyes.
“kiss you?” she snickered. “get your head out of your ass, angel, you’re not all that because you can shoot a bow and climb a tree.”
you stepped closer to her, so you were right up in her face. “and you’re not all that because you scare away everyone who cares about you, just because your daddy’s a little mean. you don’t need to be a bitch about everything.”
you regretted it instantly. you’d gone too far. you knew that.
her face dropped and a hurt look flashed through her eyes, but it died as soon as it came to life.
you stepped back and turned, marching away.
“where are you going?” she called after you. “we’re not finished here!”
“you have something else to say to me, clarisse, you come find me!” you shot back, your voice hard. you didn’t start arguments often, but goddamn did you finish them.
you stomped into the forest, determined to find your dagger and arrow so you could prove to both clarisse and sam that you were capable of more than just shooting arrows from trees and running away from fights.
it was darker today. the clouds that covered camp half-blood permeated through the forest, leaving a heavy weight suspended among the trees. the air felt thicker, even, and the birdsong seemed quieter than usual. was there something around? something hanging in the air, waiting to attack you? drag your body back to camp and leave it on clarisse’s doorstep like a cat bringing in a dead bird?
or was your fear just because you were alone instead of with the rest of camp.
whatever it was, it put you on edge.
there was a clicking sound behind you, like someone was cracking a joint, but when you turned, no one was there. you weren’t foolish enough to call out.
you could feel a chill going down your spine, and that’s when you knew: the first shoe had dropped.
your eyelids fluttered and you nearly dropped to the ground, but you leaned heavily against a tree to catch yourself. typical. go out on your own, thinking you can take care of yourself and you get hit with a premonition. how’s that for fate?
you let the feeling wash over you; the pure panic of the near future and the warm grip of a hand on your wrist, like someone was pulling you along.
the future was not looking promising.
there was another clicking sound behind you as you finally managed to straighten up, much closer this time.
you turned around.
the bushes were rustling.
you suddenly realised what that clicking sound was.
mandibles.
two ants the size of german shepherds burst through the foliage. myrmeke.
there was the other shoe, dropping real hard.
“shit!” you stumbled backward, reaching for a weapon. you had no weapon. “double shit!”
you turned and ran.
the ants were fucking fast. they could have caught up to you if you weren’t so agile, turning and springing off in different directions every few steps, sending them careening into trees and rocks. that was the only thing keeping you alive.
where even were you? you didn’t recognise this area. hopefully you weren’t running directly for their anthill. that would be a real twist of fate.
then you burst into a new area, this one with a large tree—a large tree that you recognised.
“yes!” you exclaimed, dashing for the trunk. you found your dagger easily, then your discarded arrow too. you didn’t know what good they’d do against the myrmeke, considering that their shells were as hard as armour and, while force was good in some cases, you had to admit that sharpness may have helped you against them.
you couldn’t run anymore. your screaming lungs told you that. you couldn’t climb either. the ants could climb better than you and you’d be a sitting duck up there, no matter how high you went. but maybe, just maybe, you could hold them off until they got bored or someone realised you were missing.
it wasn’t easy, but you managed to deflect and dodge the myrmeke’s attacks. they were fast, but you were faster. you even managed a swipe at one of their legs as you rolled past, but all it did was leave a tiny chink in its armour.
you were beginning to lose hope.
honestly, what you wouldn’t give for a spear right now. your blunt dagger and slim arrow were about as good as a toothpick against these monsters.
just as you were backed against the tree that you’d once found a safe haven, you heard a battle cry. you could have sobbed from relief, but instead, as the spear-wielding figure landed on top of one of the ants, driving her weapon into the gap between its armoured plates, you took your opportunity to stab your arrow with as much force as you could into the other ant’s gaping mouth, slipping it precisely between its mandibles and, hopefully, into its brain.
it jerked back in pain and screeched, the sound making your ears ring, but it didn’t die. instead, it looked rightfully pissed off, and now it had an arrow sticking from its mouth.
as your saviour pulled her spear from the ants back, a warm, brown liquid sprayed on you. it smelled like ants always did after you crushed them, just a million times worse. you wondered if this was revenge for all the ants you’d murdered in your life.
“gross!” you exclaimed, wiping it off your face.
“grow up, bows, we gotta go!” clarisse. your saviour was clarisse. of course.
just as you were about to protest, two more myrmeke crept out of the forest towards you.
she gripped your wrist, right where that warmth was in your premonition, and dragged you away, making you drop your dagger in the rush.
“i dropped my—“
“save it!” she snapped, pulling you along.
the desperation in her voice kicked you into gear and you started running faster, alongside her now.
you didn’t use the same tactics as before. instead of dodging, you just ran as fast as you could and prayed that the myrmeke would be slower. clarisse seemed to know where she was going, at least.
“you’re such an idiot!” clarisse yelled as they ran.
“we’re doing this now?” you panted incredulously.
“you could have died!”
“we’ll both die if you don’t stop yelling at me!”
finally, gloriously, you breached the edge of the forest and stepped into camp. the myrmeke wouldn’t follow you there.
you dropped to you knees, panting and staring into the forest. clarisse was standing in front of you, her spear ready, just in case.
you’d stepped into a quiet part of camp up behind the amphitheatre, so there was no one around to see you, and no one around to help you. you had a feeling that if the myrmeke didn’t kill you, clarisse wouldn’t hesitate.
once it was clear that they weren’t following, she rounded on you.
you were still on your knees, your legs too tired and shaky with adrenaline to stand, but she didn’t seem to care.
“what were you thinking, going in on your own?” she snapped.
“well i wasn’t expecting to get attacked by killer ants within the camp’s borders!” you protested.
“everyone knows they’re there.”
“i forgot, okay? i’m not perfect.”
“oh, i know.” she rolled her eyes.
“gods, would you just fuck off?” you finally stood up, face to face with her. “you’re horrible sometimes, you know that? i can’t believe i’ve defended you.”
“i don’t need your defending.”
“and i don’t need your help!”
“you would have died!” she yelled, emphasising every word.
“but i didn’t!” you shouted back.
she rolled her eyes and stepped closer, anger practically radiating off her. “yeah, thanks to me. you’d be dead if i hadn’t followed you in there—“
“why did you follow me?” you asked suddenly, voice harsh.
“what?”
“why did you follow me?” you asked again, slower. “i didn’t ask you to look after me, clarisse.”
there it was again. that slightly relaxation of her shoulders when you said her name. it drove you nuts. you didn’t know if you wanted to kiss her for hours or throw her to the myrmeke.
she tensed up again and turned to leave. “whatever. i’m done here.”
“i’m not!” you gripped her shoulder and pulled her back around. to your surprise, she didn’t pull a weapon on you. “why did you follow me, clarisse? was it the same reason that you were flirting with me yesterday? and why you’re so protective of me? and why you hate sam?”
“i wasn’t flirting with you,” she grumbled. “and i hate sam for… personal reasons. and i’m not protective of you! why would you even think that?”
“that’s all bullshit and you know it,” you sneered.
“gods, you aggravate me!” she exclaimed.
“you didn’t have to come help me,” you scoffed, stepping back. “i didn’t ask for your help.”
“and i didn’t want to help you!”
“then why did you? huh? you could handle not winning a fight? you wanted to finish the argument on your terms?” your eyebrows were raised and your face was cold. “or were you gonna beat me up but the giant killer ants got to me first?”
she looked like she was about to explode with anger. “because i love you!”
the air escaped from your lungs in one sharp moment, and it looked like hers did the same thing.
“what?” you asked, your voice softer.
it was silent. she looked like she was trying to find something to say, but couldn’t. her mouth opened and closed weakly, and she shook her head, lips pressed together. you wanted to kiss her.
so you did.
she tensed up as your hands came to her waist, pulling her body and lips against yours hard. then, finally, she relaxed. she dropped her spear at your feet and raised her hands to your hair, threading her fingers through the strands. she was a softer kisser than you’d expected, but it was definitely her. it was all her. the tug on your hair, the underlying, undeniable harshness of the kiss, the spear that rested against your foot. it was perfectly clarisse. you could have kissed her until the sun went down and the ants came and carried you both to their anthill, and if you stayed kissing her like this, you wouldn’t even mind.
when, finally, you pulled away, you were both breathing heavily. all of the tension from the fight hid dissipated, leaving only a warm sparkling in the air, like a mirage around her face in the sunlight. maybe that was a sign? or a vision? whatever it was, it was heaven-sent.
she was smiling. she looked softer like this. gods, you loved it. it felt like fate, and you knew a lot about fate. fate was fickle. fate was cruel. fate brought you the arguments, the myrmeke, the terror. but fate also brought you this. this girl who was glowing in the sun like she was made of pure rays of light. the girl with a spear that she laid down at your feet and would save you barehanded if you asked. the girl who had sunk into your arms like she was made to be there.
“do you think i can get that new dagger now?” you asked cheekily, playing with the hem of her camp shirt. “i mean, i have girlfriend privileges now, right, babe?”
clarisse rolled her eyes, but she was still smiling. “shut up, devil.”
“ooh, devil. that’s new,” you teased. “i like it. it’s apt.”
“it sure is.” she looked down. “i’m… sorry, by the way.”
“me too,” you nodded. “i didn’t really mean any of that, you know?”
“‘cause you like me,” she said in a teasing voice.
“yeah, ‘cause i like you, or whatever.” you kissed her again, smiling against her lips. “and i know you like me too, because you so did nearly kiss me in that tree yesterday.”
she shrugged. “maybe. maybe not. guess we’ll never know.”
you found out at the next capture the flag game. and the next. and the next. she would go out of her way to find you, defeat you, then kiss you before running off to win the games. and honestly, you didn’t really mind.
fate was a fickle thing, but with clarisse by your side, no one could touch you. sam left you alone, people started treating you better, and you had everything you could ask for. her.
and whenever you two argued, you’d go into the woods together and kill some ants. after all, what says ‘couple’s bonding’ quite like murder?
1K notes · View notes
chrollohearttags · 3 months
Text
window shopping • connie springer + ryomen sukuna x black fem reader
your two favorite fellow mall employees have a bit of a competition to see who can bag you first. Little did they know, you don’t want to choose.
word count: 3.7K
content + themes: crossover au, jeweler connie, foot locker manager sukuna (they’re both afro-latino coded in this idc), threesome tings (too many smutty things to list) car sex, heavy squirting, oral to name a few (.2 seconds of rimming), lots of humor, weed mentions, they call reader mami, miss and baby, she calls them both papi, crack ass post if I’ve ever written one.
───✱*.。:。✱*.:。✧*.。✰───────✱*.。:。✱*.:。✧*.。✰────
interesting. The one word you’d use to describe your work days at Center Pointe Mall. Although a gross understatement, it was still interesting..mainly due in part to what and who, rather..you encountered on a daily basis. Sure, the influx of customers and unfamiliar faces you saw during your employment at Sephora were most certainly wild cards. From the college girls who always mismatched their foundation to the business woman who needed that perfect skin care package to get rid of her crow’s feet..neither of them held a candle to those two..
“Good morning, miss. You look good today..like that hair on you.”
“Aye, good morning, ma. What’s that perfume you got on..’smell real good.”
it was like clockwork. Every day, as you entered for your shift, there they were. Stationed in front of their respective stores, ready to greet you. Flashing those beaming smiles, oftentimes with gold slugs in their mouth and with the same, sweet charm lacing their words. Ryomen Sukuna, who headed up the Foot Locker and Connie Springer, managing the jewelry shop which both just so happened to be conveniently placed on either side of your store. It made for fun times, for sure! When you’d have a slow day and you’d stand outside the doorway, vibing to the music they’d play because the top forty’s pop crap they recycled on repeat was driving you insane. Connie would talk to you from across the way as he waited for potential customers. Ryo, who was the manager, had other employees manning the store. He would come and interrupt the party none other than for the reason of chatting you up and getting on Connie’s nerves. Which made for quite the entertainment.
“Aw, hell. Here he go..Ryo, ain’t nobody talking to you, bruh. Gon’ somewhere.”
“Stay out of grown folks' business, Mr. Clean. I came to see my girl. What’s up with you, miss?”
which was so much more hilarious, considering the fact that the two of them? They were literally best friends! Dating back as far as middle school. Ryo was a couple years older but they were from the same neighborhood and were attached at the hip. Both exceptional basketball players and gifted artists. Drawing amazing artwork and a number of the tattoos they had on their bodies. Brilliant young men with wonderful personalities..how could you not adore them?! Regardless, all three of you would congregate outside of those doors and talk until customers came in and would even take your lunch breaks together. It was never a dull moment with those two, that’s for sure. Especially when it comes to vying for your attention. Buying your food, pulling your chair out and everything. They were perfect gentlemen despite their constant flirtation. Connie would use humor as a means to try and win your heart. Always spewing out corny jokes and making you laugh. Ryo was definitely the charmer of the pair..attempting to sweet talk you at every turn. One day, you were sitting next to Ryo in the food court with Connie in front of you as you grabbed the pink haired gentleman’s chin.
“You got such a pretty smile, Ryo.” And Connie was not having it. Immediately snorting as he sipped his drink, the chaos would ensue. “Yeah, cause he went and got them big ass veneers. Them extra large teef’…” prompting you to nearly spit out your drink and forcing your head down. You couldn’t take them anywhere! “..bet you eat corn on the cob whole. Chewing them muhfuckas like candy.” Knowing he was opening up a can of worms he wasn’t ready for.
“Worry ‘bout pedaling them fake ass chains, ConMan. Bubblegum machine ass necklace. Look at the diamonds, shit’s standing still..” And they’d go on forever, taking shots and licks at each other all day, putting you in the middle of it. “(Y/N), miss. Tell this baldheaded ass lil’ boy to leave you alone. We can go get a tester and put his ass outta business right now .” “Tell jumbo teeth to mind his business. Tight ass shirt on..bout to rip.” And you’d have to feign off their nonsense with laughter. “Y’all too much. I gotta go. I’ll see you boys later.” And both of them would instantly fluster at the sight of you waving goodbye. It was all but impossible when they’d watch those thirty inches of jet black hair and ass swaying simultaneously. Those plump, gloss covered lips; wearing your signature brown liner and beautiful features. A single nose piercing on the side of your left nostril..you were gorgeous. They couldn’t help but to admire. But soon, that innocuous affection turned to actual lust. Lust that was shared on all sides and unbeknownst to your bumbling boys..you wanted a piece of them both. They’d continue flirting, pining for your affection and even making a little wager without your knowledge to see who could bag you first..
but it was one night after work, when you were all seated in Ryo’s car. You in the passenger’s seat of his spacious, blacked out Trackhawk. He is in the driver’s seat and Connie was right behind you. Stationed in an empty lot not too far from the mall itself, the three of you would do as you had done several times:
“Here, your turn, (y/n).”
passing around a blunt and blowing smoke as you hotboxed..leaving a large cloud to fog up the already tinted windows. After four puffs, you were already beginning to feel the effects. Your eyes narrowed and began to glow red from the euphoria. But alas, your high was only about to increase tenfold when you’d drop quite a bombshell on them. They’d continue with their usual antics and alas, the question would arise again: who do you like more? And from there, they’d just go on and on, swearing that one or the other was the ideal choice. Ryo, with his deep raspy tone, would incite the behavior with the glide of a finger underneath your chin and that smooth talking. If it truly was a competition, you wouldn’t know how to pick. Granted, they were both so silly but there was a quality about each of them that you couldn’t resist. Ryo, with his overall sex appeal..this man was so charming and knew exactly what to say to get EXACTLY what he wanted.
“C’mon now, lil’ bro. I mean, I’d hate to hurt your feelings but don’t make the lady choose. It’s not even a question. Ain’t that right, miss?” Flashing you a wink in return.
but there was also Connie, who was a literal sweetheart. He had a more tactful approach to doing things. Despite all of the tattoos, chains and golds in his mouth, he had sort of this shyness about him. But in the same turn, you knew deep down, if given the chance, he’d show you that he wasn’t for play. “Don’t even play yourself like that, bruh. You know she would pick me everytime. Tell ‘em, mami. You just don’t wanna be rude..” Again though, you had no interest in making only one selection and rather..
“…who said I wanted to pick at all?”
leaving them both stunned and stopped dead in their tracks. At first, they were both a little taken aback. Completely misunderstanding what it was that you were saying. They figured that you meant that neither of them were on your radar and that you had no interest in being anything besides their friend. But once again, they were both wrong! With the look of shock still fresh on their faces, you’d waste no time in elaborating..starting with a kiss along Ryo’s jawline and whispering in his ear. . “I mean…why would I when you could both have me?” And it was then that their faces began to turn beet red! Illuminated with complete bashfulness. They knew that they had been pining after you something serious. Even making a few sexual innuendos here and there but never would they have guessed that you’d been down for something of this caliber.. “..you telling me y’all never thought about it? Because I have..all the time.” Uttering the confession with your tongue scaling the sides of his neck; flicking it over his tattoo. Meanwhile, your hand would snake to the backseat to massage Connie’s crotch. This silly little game was a moot point. What was the point of competition when they could simply work together to give you what you wanted?! Taking heed to your advances and obvious demand, they wasted no time in shifting gears.
“Well damn..if that’s the type shit you was on, all you had to do was let us know.”
Ryo, who was already groping your big, round tits, shoved his tongue between your lips and began to engage in a full blown make out session. Exchanging sloppy wet kisses, as you had been downing water in between your passes. Meanwhile, Connie would watch from the backseat, sort of aroused by the idea of spectating. He’d listen to your soft whimpers, the dirty words uttered into your ear and even how Ryo clasped your throat in his ink laden hands and immediately began to feel a pulse through the confines of his boxers. He’d discreetly cup the bulge and just slowly rub it as your ass jiggled from being folded over the console. Faint traces of saliva seeped from your mouths each time you both pulled away; only to find yourselves with one less article of clothing. Your hand had slipped into his black joggers and began tousling that growing erect around. You knew it was big by the visible print alone and could only imagine what it looked like. But before you could unveil the mystery and have too much fun, he’d stop and usher you to the backseat so you could both join Connie. “Climb back there..”
and they didn’t have to tell you what to do because the second you sat down in the middle, Connie would tap in. Bringing your face towards him and kissing you with such passion. Immediately wrapping his fingers around your neck and twirling his tongue around between your jaws. His hands worked to unclasp your jeans and once he did, that left hand would find its way into the seat of your panties..rubbing that clit whilst you stroked that cock in your hand. Running those fingers up and down that shaft; letting those duckbill shaped nails graze his tip. He was such an attentive and great kisser, you felt yourself growing wetter by the moment. Heating up on his very fingers..meanwhile, Ryo had joined the fray as well. Readjusting himself only for a split second to step out of the drivers into the seat behind him. Once he was with you both, it was up from there.
“Can’t let him have all the fun..c’mere, baby.” It was then that he’d shuffle his pants back down to his waist and allow you to stroke him as well. They had full fledged confidence that you knew what to do..going back and forth, exchanging kisses and gentle strokes..pumping each of them in your enclosed fists. Meanwhile, they’d take great joy in fondling your body. Ryo’s wide grasp encompassed both of your tits as he peeled your shirt away. Connie’s fingers were still tending to your sensitive cunt. Slick surrounding his digits as he worked them in and out..even massaging that thumb pad over your clit. In a matter of moments, they’d have you squirming in the seat and begging for more. Soon, Ryo’s lips latched on to your neck, suckling on the nape of it with a wild eyed expression. His raspy laugh ringing in your ear as he reached for your throat. Meanwhile, your palms were still clasped around their cocks, pumping the shafts with delicate strokes..without breaking stride, they’d use their free hands to rid you of those bottoms; shoving them down to your ankles where you’d kick them off. The same followed for your shirt, which Ryo tore open with minimal effort. Having long since discarded your bra, you were left with nothing more than a paper thin thong that was tugged to the side, along with your shoes that soon followed the rest. With you rendered completely nude, there wasn’t a thing holding them back..during the entire ordeal, they’d alternate between the different parts of your body; having their fill and taking their pick of what they wanted to indulge in next. As well as piling your head with compliments and salacious comments about what they wanted to do with you. Ryo not holding back a single detail of how many times he wanted you to come for him, even at the expense of his interior. Carefully examining that tight cunt spasming on his best friend’s digits. He had the utmost confidence that you could take the dick, regardless of their sizes. Luckily, the second and third row seating were laid back so you’d have ample room. Connie on the other hand, who had been honing in on getting you prepped..aware of how tight you were..couldn’t stop telling you how badly he wanted to use your throat. He’d often dreamt of seeing those pretty lips stretched around his cock..watching you gag, slurp and spit on it as it so carefully glided in and out of your mouth. And all you could do was whimper, thrashing yourself around on those knuckles to reach an inevitable orgasm and you were so damn close.
“Aye, Ryo. You think she’s ready, bruh? Feels like she is…what do you think?”
“I think so too, lil’ bro..say, love..you think you can handle both of us? We don’t wanna hurt you now..”
but they were both in for quite the surprise. You were far from the bashful type and you were about to give them something they’d never forget. Chuckling with your head suspended back, you’d chew lightly at your bottom lip before answering either of them.
“Handle it? Y’all better the fuck the shit out of me. I don’t like all that talking without action.” And with that, both Ryo and Connie were full and well aware of what they had to do if they wanted to keep you around! Ushering you onto all fours first, everybody got into position. You with your ass up in the air and back arched as Ryo saddles behind you. Connie sprawled out on the back passenger door as your head lowered into his lap. All you wanted was for them to use your body as they saw fit..fuck you until your legs gave out and a mess covered this backseat. “C’mere, mama. Lemme have that pussy..” with tattooed hands and fingernails digging into your hair, Ryo pushed you face down as he aligned that swollen cock head with your very sensitive slit. He couldn’t help but to be enamored with the plumpness of that pretty ass. That cute little asshole was already fluttering and that cunt dripping for him, preparing to stretch you open. Meanwhile, Connie was brushing that beautiful hair to the side so that he could line up with your mouth.
“Yeaah, there we go, mami. Eat this dick up..know you been waiting to..” and he was correct. Hence why it wasn’t a full five minutes before you’d find yourself stuffed full at each end. Deep groans released from each males’ mouths when the initial sensation of your holes hit. They couldn’t believe how silky and warm both of them felt. Letting out a simultaneous ‘fuck’, along with a laugh..they’d make haste in moving. You were more than well lubricated so they slipped in and out with ease. You’d bob your head slowly, up and down on Connie’s shaft whilst Ryo’s hands rested at the small of your back, slowly pressing those thumbs into those adorable dimples..sounds of clapping flesh and slurping began to emit throughout the vehicle and before long, all three of you were letting loose.
“Shit! Pussy’s so goddamn tight, baby..how you keep this from me all this time?”
“Fuuuck, mami. chupas esa mierda tan bien…” whimpering in a high pitched moan, he’d toss his head back and continue letting you work your magic. Those plump lips wrapped around that thick shaft as globs of saliva drenched down to his swollen balls. Without so much as a single gag. You took him nearly five inches down your throat before withdrawing and jerking him off. Even though he filled your esophagus. Leaving quite the sloppy mess in your wake. All while a sheath of creamy lather began to form as those thick cheeks collided with Ryo’s pelvis. You’d begin to whimper and beg each of them for more. “Yeah, mama..let us hear that shit. How much you love being fucked like a lil’ slut..” teasing before leaning down to lick up the curvature of your spine. “Mmph! Fuuuck..please, don’t stop.” And he had no intentions of doing so, especially when he’d reach underneath and curl his hand underneath and massage your clit. Making you twitch on that cock..but Connie wasn’t one to be neglected either. Because once you put your mouth back on him, he was done for. Lowering your head again, an entire sheath of saliva came spilling onto that shaft as you spat and continued pumping in your hand. Where you kept your focus, however, were on those round, full balls of his. Practically aching to the touch..apparent by the way his body trembled and those diamonds kept swinging and refracting against the star covered ceiling.
“Yeah, right there, baby. Suck that muhfuck—“ but just as quickly as he gave the command, he’d be halted in his tracks and his eyes would trail to the back of his head. “Fuuuuck! Oh fuck, do that again, baby. That feels so good.” Nearly catapulting out of his seat from the sensation of your tongue swirling around his balls and momentarily gliding over his entrance. He knew he’d probably never experienced something so salacious before. Talk all he might but Connie was a lover boy and most likely, incredibly vanilla. He preferred making love over rough fucking. Meanwhile, Ryo preferred his women to be freaky. The kind that would top him off and kiss him afterwards or let him put a foot on her head! He could only let out a hearty laugh as he watched his lil’ bro get bitched up!
“You a nasty lil’ bitch. I love it. Knew you was gon’ be a problem but damn…aye, Connie..you good, bruh?” Only receiving a loud whine back..knowing that you had damn near sucked the soul out of this man!
“C’mon, baby. Let’s switch.” And truth be told, he too needed a breather because if he persisted, you were going to be on maternity leave messing with him! Reluctantly withdrawing, he’d pull out and lay his erect across your back, spurting a trail of his precum across your skin. You all would maneuver around until the two of them had switched positions and you were flat on your back. Dangling your head, Ryo took hold of it as he leaned against the door and Connie spread you open. Pinning your legs back, he’d tap himself against your slick ridden, fucked out little hole..eliciting a high pitched whimper. One that hummed and vibrated against Ryo’s cock. It was such a euphoric feeling for all three of you. Especially with the sensation of that weed coursing through your veins. That thong dangled around your ankles and his wristwatch glistened under the lights as his hands clasped your ankle. Placing soft kisses around your calf. “Pussy’s so fucking wet, mami..damn.” Ryo was on the opposite end, thrusting into your mouth slowly with a gentle hand cupped around your throat. They were using you as they saw fit and you couldn’t get enough. They’d persist until they drummed out what would be the first of many orgasms. Which came not a moment too soon when Connie was pressing down into the center of your belly and pumping you full of cock. That’s when you felt it!…
“Damn! Let it out, baby..squirt on that dick, just like that.” Sending you into convulsions as he tapped himself against you after you all but pushed you out. But you were too busy having your mouth used as a sleeve to release any moans. But Ryo was aware of the way you hummed against him. Connie wasn’t going to be the only one having his fill. He wanted you to take his nut inside regardless of where it ended up. Tugging himself momentarily and seemingly premature, he’d hold you in place as he prompted you to stick your tongue out. Which you did with a wide smile on your face. “There we go.” Rewarding you with a long glob of spit afterwards. “Mmm, thank you, papi.” Showing your gratitude to them both. The two men would continue on their crusade to bring you to ultimate pleasure. Taking turns pounding in various positions..and entrances until finally..
“Fuck! On your knees, baby..just like that.”
“Suck that fucking cum out, mama..”
they’d instruct you to grasp both of their shafts and jerk them off until you milked them of every remnant of their cum. And it didn’t take long before you found your face splattered in both men’s semen and them rolling their heads back on their shoulders and crying out your name, along with a string of expletives. Needless to say, you all were good and spent. And very much satisfied with this little rendezvous! Even so, the gentlemen still couldn’t help but to question who was the better of the two. But if you hadn’t already made yourself clear, you’d iterate it one more time:
“Like I said, I don’t have to choose..I’m just window shopping.”
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loveronlineee · 2 years
Text
The Metalhead and the Material Girl (Eddie Munson x Reader)
Tumblr media
Masterlist   All Parts
Eddie Munson x Reader (She/Her)
Warnings: none
Synopsis: When a super fem new girl joins Eddie’s class he thinks he’s got her all figured out, but he soon finds out that the popular kids aren’t the only ones who judge people’s first appearances 
Y/N notes: none
Okay I don’t usually do writers notes but I gotta say thanks to these four: @carolinaflicker​ @iamsiriuss​ @hauntingtherosebush​ @lindsey3300​ for helping me out on the lil bit of D&D stuff I mentioned. Some of you guys had slightly different answers for me so if I’m still wrong let me know! (And other D&D playing peeps)
Wanna be on the Eddie Munson tag list? Look here!
Wanna request something? Look here!
“I’m Y/N L/N. I transferred here from California for my senior year. I like pop music, fashion and hanging out with my friends. And I hope I can become friends with all of you!”
Pretty. Bubbly. Probably a bit of an airhead. The popular kids will scoop her up in a heartbeat. Eddie thought to himself looking up at the new girl. I wonder how long it’ll take for her to be just like everyone else.
The teacher pointed at the empty seat on the metal head’s right, giving the boy a stern look.
“Y/N I’m gonna seat you next to Eddie here at the front so you can help me keep an eye on him.” Eddie grinned and gave the teacher a wink.
Okaaaay here we go. Eddie thought to himself, leaning back in his chair. What kind of popular girl is this one gonna be? Disgusted by me? Weirded out? Just plain old pretend I don’t exist?
“Hi, Eddie was it?” The new girl asked with the biggest most genuine smile Eddie had ever seen. Her face was enough to melt away any built up hate he had accumulated from every harsh comment thrown at him throughout the years.
“Uh yeah Eddie. Eddie Munson.” He couldn’t help the smile appearing on his own face. This girl was a ball of sunshine.
“Nice to meet you Eddie.” He watched as she took out her things from her bag and set them out on the table. Everything was either pink, glittery or had a cute little character on it. She wrote the date on a new page in her notebook, doodling little stars around the numbers.
The teacher came over and placed a piece of paper on Y/N’s desk.
“This is your time table with your classes. Don’t be afraid to ask someone for help.”
“Oh thank you!” Y/N chirped before beginning to read through it. “Hey Eddie, what classes do we have together?” She tilted the paper towards him. Eddie leaned over and skimmed the page.
“Oh wow most of them. We got all the same ones today in fact.”
“Do you mind if I just stuck with you then?”
“Y-Yeah. Yeah that’s cool.” Eddie wasn’t in fact planning on going to all his classes today, like most days, but he couldn’t pass up the chance to get to know this girl more. He spent the morning walking Y/N to all her classes, pointing out other parts of the school she’ll need to know. He revelled in the looks the other students were giving him when they saw them together. The resident freak with a mystery bombshell.
Lunch came around and Y/N followed Eddie to the lunch hall.
“Hey I’ve been meaning to ask you… what’s on your shirt? Is it a band?” Y/N asked.
“It’s my club.”
“Oh cool! You run a club? What’s it about?” Eddie smiled at her as they reached his table of friends.
“A little game called D&D.” He turned to them and gestured to the new girl. “Gentlemen, this is Y/N.”
The boys all looked at her slack jawed, unable to think of anything to say. Luckily, Y/N had enough social skills for the whole table.
“It’s nice to meet you all! I started here today, Eddie’s been showing me around.” She explained as Eddie pulled out the chair in between his and Dustin’s and letting her sit down. He sat in his own chair at the head of the table just observing his friends trying to process this girl being here.
“You’ve been with Eddie…” Mike started asking very slowly, like he was waiting for the pin to drop. “…since this morning?”
“Yeah he’s been really helpful.” Y/N smiled at the younger student. “So are you two freshmen?”
Y/N continued chatting with Mike and Dustin. Eddie looked behind them at the popular kids who were eyeing him suspiciously. The cheerleaders all glaring and whispering to each other. “Eddie!” The metal head looked back at Y/N.
“Yeah?”
“So all these guys are in your club?” She gestured at the group. “You were gonna tell me about D&D earlier, what’s the game about?” Y/N asked, genuinely interested. Eddie grinned. He stood up like he was presenting to a class. Everyone sat up, hands neatly rested on the table, going along with the joke.
“D&D, or Dungeons and Dragons, is a fantasy table-top roleplaying game that only a select few at this school truly appreciate.” Eddie used theatrical hand motions as he described the game, putting one foot on his chair to add to the dramatic effect. “It is a game of teamwork, decision making, and the luck of the dice.”
He gave Dustin a small nod which prompted the boy to take a heavy book out of his bag and put it in front of Y/N. The Dungeons and Dragons Handbook. She began flicking through it, taking in as much as she could. She gasped.
“Can I be a fairy???” Eddie chuckled at her enthusiasm. He sat back down and shuffled his chair closer to hers.
“I’m sure I could homebrew something for you. Either that or you could be an elfen princess? If you just want that pretty ethereal girl look.” Eddie paused. “That… you’ve already got.” He looked back down at his hands, a little hesitant of his last line, before looking back up. Y/N was smiling at the compliment, easing Eddie’s nerves.
“Hey!” Two cheerleaders had approached the table, one calling out to Eddie with annoyance in her voice. “Why don’t you just stick with the freaks?” Eddie leaned away from Y/N and looked to the popular girls.
They turned to Y/N, who seemed a little confused. “You can come and sit with us instead.” One of them said, like she was doing the new girl a favour. Y/N looked over at Eddie. He kept his face the same, not wanting to influence her decision.
Of course he wanted her to stay, but he just couldn’t deal with the guilt of depriving Y/N of having an actual enjoyable high school experience. It didn’t matter how pretty she was, if she was hanging out with the freaks then she was gonna get bullied.
“Oh uh okay then.” Y/N replied apprehensively, slowly getting up. “I-I’ll be back in a minute.” She said as she was dragged away by the cheerleaders. Eddie pursed his lips together in a saddening smile.
“Suuuuuuuure you will.” He said just as Y/N got out of earshot. He looked around at the guys. “And that my friends, concludes the story of the time we almost got a hot chick to play D&D.” The group mumbled and chuckled, going back to their lunch, clearly no where nearly as affected as Eddie.
He knew this was inevitable. With who Y/N was and who he was. But a part of him, a small part of him wanted to believe that she’d stay. For him. That she wouldn’t get poisoned by the ideologies of the social hierarchy. But that was just wishful thinking. He looked back down at the table.
At least it was nice while it lasted.
“Sorry bout that.” Eddie looked back up to see Y/N again. “So I can be an elf princess?”
“Y/N?”
“Yeah?”
“…why are you here?”
“I did say I’d only be gone a minute.” She smiled. Eddie stared at her, unable to speak. His head slowly turned to the popular kids. They looked even more surprised than him.
“W-What about them?” He gestured.
“What about them?” Y/N asked, confused.
“Aren’t you gonna hang out with them?”
“They don’t seem like people I’d want to hang out with.”
“They don’t?”
“Do I look like a bully to you?” She joked. “So, elf princess? Yes?” Eddie’s smile retuned to his face.
“Yeah. Yeah definitely a princess.”
Tag list: @Mikinyi @justaproudslytherpuff @angelicjinwoo @k12baby @spiderman-berries​ @ruhro7​ @justanotherhappyidiot @dontcallmesavvy @kenzi-woycehoski​
22K notes · View notes
oharaslover · 5 months
Note
Miguel with a chubby reader(specifically hipdips and a big stomach;and if you don’t mind,a toothgap) make it as kinky as you like friend🫶
-angel anon🪽
thigh worshipper
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pairing: miguel o’hara x chubby fem reader
contents: oral (f receiving), brief thigh fucking, brief titty fucking, face sitting, unprotected p in v, breeding kink, some mommy issues, overall just smut
author’s note: got kinda carried away with this one 🫣 i hope you don’t mind that i mixed your request with one from @shadofireshinobi. anyways enjoy lol <3 (i hope i did the requests justice)
word count: 5.5K+
You were laying on your bed, scrolling through Tinder after realizing that you'd watched all the shows you had on your list. Though you weren't too enticed by the options appearing on your screen, it entertained you for the time being. You stared at the messages on your screen, noticing that none of them had asked you to go on a date but rather a invitation to come over.
Though you were conscious of the fact that you didn't fit the description of the 'conventionally attractive woman', you still wanted to be seen as something more than just a sexual object. You continued to swipe left at the men popping up on your phone until your phone started ringing, the word 'MOM' flashing at you.
"Hi mommy, how's it going?" You greeted her, trying to make some sort of conversation. Your relationship had been strained before you moved to Nueva York, but now it just felt like you were hanging on by a thin rope. "I'm gonna keep this short. Your brother asked me to tell you if you could bring him some food. Said that you would listen to me for some reason," she responded, cutting off every aspect of making friendly conversation.
"He's thirty years old, I'm sure he can manage to get food on his own," you grumbled, knowing that he'd used your need for motherly approval to get his way. "Just go give him some food, you're all each other has," she responded, the line cutting off after she spoke. "Bye," you mumbled to the dead line, hoping that some part of her would call back and ask you how you were doing, to provide you with some kind of advice.
But of course, you were only met with a black screen when you pulled the phone away from your ear. You got up from your bed and walked over to the kitchen, packing up what you made for yourself in a plastic tupperware. While you didn't exactly mind doing these favors for your brother, you weren't expecting to go back to work on your day off. You worked at Alchemax under the human resources department and he had a tendency to use that to his advantage, getting you to bring him lunch and whatnot.
"Y’know, you could've called me instead of mom if you wanted lunch," you greeted your brother as you came into the office, setting down the tupperware on his desk. He opened it up, the scents of spices filling up the room and he let out a small sigh in delight. "Yeah but it's so much easier to get you to comply when I tap into your mommy issues," he responded, putting the papers on his desk to the side. You sat across from him, rolling your eyes as you two talked about what's new at Alchemax.
"Don't forget about the barbecue I’m hosting on Saturday," your brother reminded you as you were walking out the door, and you gave him a thumbs up before leaving. You heard your phone buzz in your back pocket and you saw a message from a decent looking guy asking to get to know you better. You were instantly immersed into conversation, having a slimmer of hope that his intentions would be pure.
Your attention was taken away from your phone when you bumped into a very built man, the sounds of glass shattering forcing you to put your phone away. "Can you not see properly or something?" A voice looming over you spoke, agitation evident in his tone. you looked up to see that the man was staring down at you, his eyes flaring with annoyance and anger. "I'll help you clean those test tubes, i'm sorry about that," you responded, watching the liquid dribble through the floor. "Don't bother, just get out the way and go back to whatever low-paying intern gig you're doing."
Your nose flared as he spoke to you but before you could argue back to him, he'd already walked off to the janitor's closet. While you had offered to help him clean up the mess, you didn't feel responsible towards actually doing the task given the way he spoke to you. You carefully stepped around the glass and left the building, trying not to let his words agitate you too much. If luck has it, you'll never have to see that man again.
The day of the barbecue had approached you faster than you'd expected and you looked over at your closet for options on what to wear. You didn't want to appear too overdressed, but you didn't want to wear too little. You grabbed a black tank top and a pair of low-rise shorts, putting them on quickly. A younger version of yourself would've been self conscious of how your pudge appeared on the tank top or the stretch marks that showed on your thighs, but that version of yourself was no longer there and all you felt was pure happiness at seeing yourself.
You did some light makeup you wouldn't sweat off in the sun before heading towards the kitchen, grabbing some of the potato salad you'd made for the barbecue at your brother's request. You arrived at the event half an hour late but everyone was starting to get buzzed, so none of them made any note about it. You set down the tupperware on the table outside, glancing around at who'd arrived at the event.
It was composed of most of your coworkers, given that neither you or your brother tried too hard to make friends, and their kids running around in the backyard. Though you tried not to talk to geneticists at work, you found yourself getting attached to their kids whenever you went to events. Whether it was a form of healing your inner child, of being the mother figure that you never received growing up or if it was just to be the 'cool aunt', you didn't know but you'd grown to enjoy the kids' company more than your coworkers'.
Your eyes widen comedically when you notice the man you'd bumped into a couple days before, talking with your brother like they're the best of friends as he sipped on a Modelo. You viewed him through your peripheral, trying not to be so creepy in your staring as you tried to figure him out. He seemed cold and unappealing to hang out when you had bumped into him, but he was laughing and slapping your brother on the shoulder as they talked. You walked over to the food table, browsing through the options before you settled on getting a beef empanada.
"Do tell me your thoughts on the recipe after you're finished eating," someone's voice behind you snapped you out of your thoughts and you turned around to face the same man. Now that he'd mentioned that he made the empanadas, you were predetermined to hate them just out of spite. You took a bite out of the empanada, the beef and cheese melting perfectly on your tongue. It was savory, neither too salty nor too simple, but your ego couldn't let yourself admit that to him.
"They're alright, at best. I'd say Colombian empanadas are better," you responded with a small shrug, trying to mask your expression the best you could. He rolled his eyes as he watched you take another bite from the empanada, entertained by the way you couldn't help but lick your fingers after you were finished. "I'm Miguel, it's nice to meet you when you're not breaking all my test tubes," he finally spoke up after a couple seconds, but your attention was pried away from the man when you felt some light tugging on your shorts.
"Can you come play water balloons with us, pretty please?" A little girl with pig tails asked you, her eyes eerily similar to the man standing in front of you. "Gabriella, what did I say about getting messy?" He spoke up, looking down at the girl as he folds his arms. "Please daddy? I don't wanna be the only one not playing," Gabriella asked him, giving him her best version of puppy eyes. He let out a small grumble, pinching the bridge of his nose as he shook his head, looking down at the floor. "Fine, but have this lady here take care of you."
You joined Gabriella with the other kids as they threw water balloons at each other, eager to have some time away from the other adults at the party. You could feel their judgmental stares when you were eating your empanada, from the gap in your front teeth to the way that you ate, but you didn't really say anything since they didn't acknowledge it directly. You looked up to see that Miguel was staring at the two of you though someone was speaking to him at his side, one of the more renowned geneticists at the lab.
"Hey, who's that?" Miguel asked your brother once he got the opportunity to get away from the geneticist who talked his ear off about how the economy's going downhill. He'd tried asking other people at the party but they all offered him vague responses about how you were just a HR worker at Alchemax. "That's my sister, I'm surprised I haven't introduced you to her before. Why do you ask, though?" your brother responded, looking over at where the kids were playing.
"Just curious why a grown woman's playing with a bunch of children," he responded with a small shrug, folding his arms across his chest. "The kids like her, man. I think it's helpful to her since our mom wasn't exactly present in our life, sorta like healing her inner child," your brother responded, looking back over at Miguel before he walked away. Miguel wasn't sure why he was so fascinated by you, given how much of a klutz you could be but he found himself entertained by the idea that you didn't put up with his shit.
The group had aligned for a photo like at most reunions to hang up on the front walls of Alchemax, but you were pulled to the side by the girl taking the picture. "Excuse me but you can't be in the picture. you're all wet," she told you, her nose scrunching up as she looked at you. "Literally all the children are wet, so go ahead and tell me the real reason why you don't want me to be in the picture," you responded, folding your arms as you stared her down. "Well, you're not extremely flattering in this angle. You'd just ruin the picture if you got in there."
Miguel overheard this conversation and reunited everyone that was in the group, standing off to the side in solidarity. He wasn't sure why he felt so protective of you, of having a need to make sure you didn't feel hurt, but he wasn't going to question it too much. "Can you leave? You're kinda killing the vibe here," he spoke up behind you, despite the fact that he had no authority over who came to the party. Her eyes widen as she looked over at Miguel, her cheeks flushed as she tried to sputter an apology out to him. "I believe the person you need to apologize to is right in front of me, no?"
The girl looked at you, a disgusted look on her face like she couldn't believe that she had to be subjected to this. "You know what? I don't wanna hear your apology. Just get the fuck out of my brother's house," you told her before she opened her mouth and she reluctantly left, visibly defeated. Miguel looked down at you, a surprised expression coaxing his features but chose not to say anything. The group reunited once more for the picture and you chose to smile for it, the first smile you've given for the first time in a while in photos.
The party ended up winding down soon after that and you went home after helping your brother clean up the house. You were out on your porch, reading a book on one of the lawn chairs you'd gotten on sale with a cigarette hanging from your mouth. Your attention was diverted from your book as you saw Spider-Man hanging upside down from your porch.
"Don't you know those are bad for you?" He asked you, pointing towards your mouth as he kept his balance with one hand. "And don't you know dropping on your head is also bad for you?" You retorted, watching as he crawled into your lawn, settling down on the lawn chair next to you. You continued to read your book, occasionally taking a moment to look from your peripheral that Spider-Man was staring at you, like you were the most fascinating thing he's seen.
"What?" You decided to break the silence after a while, setting your book down and taking the lit cigarette out of your mouth, putting it out. "This is usually the part where people start to freak out, y'know? start to get excited that Spider-Man recognizes their existence and whatnot," he responded, and your brows furrowed slightly as you laughed. "You're really not that important to me, bug boy. i'll see you around Spider-Man," you told him, retreating back into the house and he was left speechless.
Miguel took notice that you responded nicer to him while he was dress as Spider-Man, even if it was just by the slightest bit, so he decided to check up on you every time that he was done with patrol. He validated his decision to go over to your house by telling himself that he was purely there to collect information about you, about what type of person you were if you were going to be around Gabriella once more.
The more that you spent time with Miguel and Spider-Man, the less time that you spent on Tinder to seek out approval from random men. You decided to delete the app after coming to the realization that you felt more accomplished with Miguel talking to you like you were something more than just a fetish, and you had started to develop some type of feelings for him. The thought of liking him terrified you since you'd built up some emotional walls to keep people out, but he managed to tear through those pretty easily despite how offputting you could get.
He came to your porch one night while you were lighting up a cigarette, dangling it in between the middle of your teeth as you paced around. "What's up with you, my number one fan?" He asked you cheekily and you were visibly startled at seeing him appear from the night. "Didn't think you were showing up so soon, bug boy. Might start to think that you're actually interested in me," you remarked, trying to deflect from the subject at hand.
"What's wrong?" he inquired, sitting down on the lawn chair as he crossed his arms. "You don't have people to save? No one who's just so obsessed with you that they followed you here?" You remarked, sitting down next to him on the chair as you played with the hem of your silk pajama shorts. He stayed quiet, almost like a form of invitation for you to share what you were going through at the moment.
You started to tell him about what was going on at work, with a big audit that's taking place at Alchemax. You noticed that while you were talking, he looked up at you a couple times just to make you believe he was paying attention but his gaze kept returning towards your exposed thighs. "Are you bothered by them or something?" You decided to cut off your story and take out the cigarette from its place, putting it out before putting it in the ash tray.
"No, no. I'm sorry, I didn't make to feel you that way. It's just.. I've had a long day too and your thighs just look so nice smushed together in that chair," he admitted, his voice cracking a little bit like he wasn't expecting to say that himself. Your brows furrowed but you decided to stay shut, unsure of how to react to his remark. "Can I.. just taste you? We don't have to do anything else but I just really need you to wrap those thighs around my face."
Which is how you ended up inviting Spider-Man into your home, the two of you currently in your bedroom. He slid just the mouth part of the mask up to his nose and even though he asked you not to, you couldn't help but examine his features to see if it was somebody you knew. Your thoughts were diverted as his mouth touched yours, surprised that he was initiating some form of foreplay. You brought your hands to the back of his mask, feeling a bit of soft curls from where the mask had been exposed as you kissed him, more needy than you had expected to be.
He brought one hand down to your sleep shorts, his hand tracing small circles on your inner thigh before gently prodding at your folds. You felt your breath escape your lungs as he pushed a finger in, your growing slickness inviting him with each thrust that he took. His mouth went down to your neck, his lips sucking harsh hickeys into your skin. He knew that it was wrong at some degree, but he couldn't wait to see you as Miguel with his marks on you.
His fangs gently grazed at your skin with every kiss that he took and he was almost tempted to paralyze you, to have you be his feast for as long as he needed to, but he decided to file that away for a later time. He pulled his hand away from your cunt once he was done with the attack on your neck, slotting in between your thighs. He rolled the fat in between his hands, doing the best he could to massage them but even with his bigger than average hands, your thighs were just too big to do so.
Your plush thighs closed his head in the spot that he was in and he figured that if he died right now, he'd be a pretty lucky man. He brought his mouth to your folds, slowly starting to prod inside your hole with his tongue as he looked up at you for your every reaction. He couldn't help but get off on the fact that you hated him so much but yet, you'd complied so easily to have him in between your legs.
"Look at you using your friendly neighborhood bug boy to get off. Y'know, you look so much prettier when you're not being to mean to me," he told you, his tongue forming small circles on your inner thigh. If you hadn't built some form of connection with him, you would've worried that he would be thrown off by the stretch marks coaxing your thighs, but if anything, he just seemed to be more enticed by the mere sight of them. "Shut up and just fuck me," you mumbled, thrusting your pelvis closer to his face as you tried to feel his tongue on your cunt again.
"With pleasure," he responded, his hands squeezing your thighs as his tongue went into your hole, tasting every bit of the juices you were releasing. He had no intention of wasting any drop, not when you tasted like the sweetest nectar he'd ever have. His eyes shut to focus on the task at hand, your hand coming down to the back of his mask as your hips moved closer to his face, starting up a steady rhythm to get yourself off. He stopped and tsked, his hands coming to your thighs as he held them in place.
"Patience, sweetheart. I'll get you off, don't worry," he says before he went back to it, his tongue collecting all the slick from your folds before going back to thrusting in and out of your hole. He felt your hands grip around the back of his mask but he felt some sort of trust in you, that you wouldn't expose him for your benefit. And you didn't, you simply just pulled at the curls on the nape of his neck as he continued his attack on your pussy.
His mouth enclosed around your clit as his hand came down to your pussy, slowly moving a finger inside while you got adjusted to it. He'd done a good job of preparing you beforehand but his fingers were too long and thick for you to just take in one thrust. He started easing his way in until your walls opened to accommodate him, instantly curling to find your g-spot. His tongue flicked around your clit like he was curious to find out what exactly is what made you tick, what would have you dripping in his mouth.
Spider-Man continued with this for a couple minutes, just taking an opportunity to explore what made you writhe against him and what had you moaning out for more. Your fingers were tightly wound as he rolled his tongue around the nub, his pointer finger brushing up against the spongy spot inside of you with every thrust that he took. "Let me taste you, sweetheart. I need you to give it to me," he pleaded, sounding more desperate than you for your orgasm. Your back arched from the bed as you felt the coil inside of you snapping quickly, your orgasm approaching you quickly.
He lapped up all the juices your cunt released around his finger, his mouth coming down to lick at the juices that had leaked out around your folds. He knew he should've been a gentleman and waited until you came down from your orgasm, but he couldn't help the desire he felt towards sucking everything that you would give him.
"Sit on my face," he told you once you came down from your orgasm, laying down on the bed next to you. You knew that he could take on multiple villains at the same time and you could see that he was ripped just by the way his suit clung onto his body, but a part of you couldn't help but feel like you would suffocate the man if you did that. "If you're worried about me, I'll be fine. I just wanna have your thighs squish around my head, mami," he spoke once more, sounding so needy to have you comply with his demand.
You slowly moved up his chest all the way to his face, your thighs enclosing around his face as they held him in place. You gripped onto the headboard for some kind of support as his hands came down to your thighs, helping you in the process. He started off  by thrusting his tongue into you, tasting the remnants of your orgasm with every thrust that he took. He brought his nose closer to your clit, the contact of it every time that he moved his head causing a small shudder to run down your back.
He ate you out with such vigor, like he would die if he wasn't able to acquire a taste of you. "Use my face all you want, mami. i'm just here to pleasure you," he spoke up from beneath you, and you slowly started rocking your hips against his body. You kept your rhythm in tandem with the way that his tongue moved, your hands going to your breasts as you kneaded them through your thin shirt. You moved them underneath the shirt, playing with your nipples for extra stimulation as you tugged and pinched them.
His hand started to play with your clit, his fingers working on the nub as he rubbed circles on it. Your pussy clenched around his tongue, coating his mouth with a wave of fresh arousal. He couldn't help but lap it up greedily, working to have you cum on his mouth once more. Your toes curled as you felt that orgasm building up inside of you, your rhythm starting to get sporadic the more that he used his tongue. You came once more, your juices coating his mouth as you got off from him.
He missed the way your thighs wrapped around his head as soon as you got off, but he was consoled by the taste of you overwhelming his senses. He licked his lips and looked over at you, your chest heaving as you tried to get your breathing under control. He knew he should've left at that moment but he couldn't help but hold you in his embrace, his fingertips tracing small circles on your stomach as you started to fall asleep.
Spider-Man continued to make routine visits to your house, though he didn't attempt to have sex with you right away. The day after he ate you out, he came over at around midnight and asked if he could fuck your thighs, that he couldn't stop thinking about them and how inviting they looked. Needless to say, you agreed and soon enough he was on your couch, thrusting into your thighs.
His cock wasn't small by any means, but as he did this, only the tip was visible with every thrust. You slowly grinded your thighs against his cock, emulating what penetrative sex would be like. He came after a couple minutes but he didn't stay the night this time, he simply got dressed and left your house. The next day, he showed up with some minor injuries and asked if he could fuck your tits after you finished patching him up.
He would always be a fan of the way your thighs clenched around his cock, but he couldn't deny that your tits were pretty damn enticing. The way they felt as he was thrusting in and out of them, the way you pushed them together to provide him with the friction that he needed, and the way your lips wrapped around the tip of his cock. His cum coated the top of your tits as he came and he could've sworn he could've came again with the way you licked the cum off.
Coincidentally, Miguel had also taken steps to be a better person towards you. He had brought some empanadas as an apology for overreacting when you bumped into him and he started bringing Gabriella to your office when you were on break. You knew that he was doing it more for you than anything else given that Alchemax offered free daycare, and you could admit that you liked to take care of her. She was smart, in a way that wasn't annoying to talk to, but she was capable of having a conversation with you that wasn't about school.
You came home from work after a pretty stressful day of paperwork and filing, wanting to relax and watch something new on tv. Your plans were quickly derailed when you heard a thump in your porch, the sight of Spider-Man on the floor making your heart drop. You'd had some suspicions that he'd been Miguel seeing him hurt made all the blood drain from your face. You walked over to the porch, opening the door to let him stumble inside.
He settled on your couch, holding his stomach in pain as a gash bled through the cracks of his fingers. You got up and went to the bathroom, getting a towel to wrap around the gash so the bleeding would subside. "No smart remarks about how I'm paying for your couch after this?" He joked, his voice coming out cracked from the pain he was in. You scoffed as you wrapped the towel around him to the best of your ability, tightening it up.
"You get hurt and the first thing you want to say to me is some stupid remark about my couch, Miguel?" You scold him, your eyes widening as you gave away the realization of your knowledge. He slid off the mask, his hair messy with some pieces of flesh tangled into the strands as he looked at you apologetically. "I didn't know you cared about me so much to worry this much, corazón. I would be flattered if i wasn't bleeding out," he told you, flashing a grin but it didn't carry the intended effect.
You gave him a towel so he could wash off his hair and the grime coating his body after he finished healing. You were sitting on your bed as you scrolled through your phone, reading through some stupid news article about today's events. You looked up to see Miguel coming into your room with the towel wrapped around his waist, his hair wet and curled at the ends. You could admit that the sight looked inviting, especially with the way that his happy trail poked out from the towel but you didn't want to initiate anything just in case he was still in pain.
Miguel came over to the bed, bunching your night dress in his hands as he looked down at you. "Let me thank you for everything you did for me, mami. I've been thinking about your cunt clenching around me for so long," he suggested and you raised a brow as you looked at him. "You sure you want to do that after an injury?" You asked and he reassured you that he was fine, though he appreciated the concern.
Miguel took off your dress quickly after he got your consent, throwing it to the floor and bent down to kiss your neck and chest. He started to kiss every place that he had access to, treating your body like a masterpiece more than anything else. "You're so pretty, como una obra de arte," he whispered into your skin, nipping at the juncture on your neck. (like a work of art) You'd never felt so turned on with your previous partners and the man hadn't done anything but kiss you.
Your arms wrapped around the back of his neck as he kissed your lips, tasting your mint toothpaste as his tongue went in your mouth. His fingers were working on your cunt as he opened your cunt to fit around his cock, knowing that it would take some adjustment to get it to fit. He whispered how beautiful you were and how good you tasted in between kisses, each compliment sounding more needy than the last.
He aligned his cock with your cunt, slowly pushing it in as you engulfed his length. You felt a sting forming in between your legs as he bottomed out, the girth of his cock stretching you to your limits. He rubbed small circles on your stomach, his mouth coming down to attach on your breasts. "Don't listen to anybody who says anything about you, you're beautiful. Not just to me," he told you, looking into your eyes as he pulled his cock out. You were about to whine at the loss of contact but he quickly thrust it back in, getting into a steady rhythm.
"Gabriella’s been telling me how nice you are, how she wishes you were her mommy. How badly she wants a sibling," he moaned out in between thrusts, his head hanging low as he looked down at you. "Then make me a mommy, Miguel," you responded, your breasts moving with every thrust that he took. "I'll make you the prettiest mommy Nueva York's ever seen. Toda llena de leche y solo para mí," he responded, his thrusts growing more intense with every passing moment. (all full of milk and just for me)
He brought his mouth to your neck, kissing the skin as he left small marks for every one. "Tan rica que sabes y es tan injusto. You should be my dumb little wife, just available for me any time I want," he told you and you could feel that he was being serious, rather just saying this out of the intensity of the moment. (you taste so good and it’s so unfair) The realization made you want to kiss him, feel even more intimacy despite how close you were to him. It felt like you couldn't get enough of him, of his cock, of everything that he would give you, despite the fact that he was giving you what he could at the moment.
He rubbed your clit with his middle finger, working in tandem with every thrust that he took. Your legs began to shake with the intensity that he was thrusting inside of you, your toes curling and back arching as you felt that coil building up inside of you. Your orgasm washed over you with intensity you'd never faced before, your vision spotting as you tried to come down from the euphoria. Your walls tightened around his cock and you took the opportunity to wrap your legs around his waist to convey that you were being serious about him breeding you.
He looked down at you before burying his head on your shoulder, his thrusts becoming sloppier as he approached his orgasm. Your cunt clenched around his cock tightly, milking him for every drop of cum that he could offer. He pushed the cum deep inside as he took notice of it start to leak, making sure that it would take. He slid out of you with ease, rolling on his back next to you. Just the picture of your stomach round with his child and your tits full of milk made his cock grow hard once more.
"Let me just make sure that it takes properly, mami," he told you, moving on top of you as he got started to go once more. Needless to say, after each round he convinced you to keep going with him under the pretense that he just wanted to make sure that he'd pumped enough so it'd take.
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Hii, could you please do a Percy x daughter of Hecate headcannons pls?
⋆⭒˚.⋆ percy jackson x daughter of hecate! reader hcs
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content: percy jackson x daughter of hecate! reader hcs warning: language but like...one or two???? author's note: i tried v hard with this one. idk why it took me so long anon. tbh, i was scared bc i don't really know a lot about hecate so then i had to do some homework and even after that it still feels v cliche but whatever. i like parts of it and i hope YOU like parts of it too.
"wanna see a magic trick?"
was the first thing percy said to you, a wide cheeky smile on his lips as he desperately tried to hold his laugh in
you were a little stunned at his sudden appearance but then his terrible, terrible joke had you fighting off laughs of your own
"i think that's more my expertise, don't you?"
que the both of you cracking up
that's the beginning of the end fr
percy buys you a crystal every time he goes somewhere
every. single. time.
even if he's going somewhere crystals should not be, he will go thirty minutes out of his way to get you a crystal
then, when he proposes, on his knee and holding out the little box, propped open, he's like:
"out of all the crystals i've given you, i think this one's my favorite."
BRO WTF WTF WTF WHY AM I CRYING IM IN CONTROL HERE??????
moving on
(it's your favorite too)
MOVING
ON
you and hazel??? besties
she gives you crystals and gems and whatnot and you give her tarot card readings and sage for the hade's cabin
also, percy starts wearing those crystal bead bracelets, a purple one to remind him of his pretty witch wherever he goes
you wear a shell bracelet for a similar reason
if either of these broke, let's just hope nobody is within a three mile radius of them or those people will have a serious condition of death
also, sally jackson is you're #1 fan, even if she's a little confused.
once for christmas, she gifted you a stack of playing cards, which you took without question
she explained that percy mentioned something about you and cards and she figured it was a sweet gesture to get you some new ones
you didn't have the heart to break it to her, proudly taking the pack of playing cards
then you asked for a reading and you had to bullshit the whole thing, sweating the whole time
"Oh, ummm ace of spades. usually a sign of, uh, good ventures coming your way!"
"ooOO, very cool!"
percy had to hid in the bathroom he was laughing so hard
she also texts you all the time, blurry photos of rocks and gems, asking if these would be good for protection or love or whatever sally was after at the moment
the windowsill in the jackson apartment is filled with a variety of rocks, each with their own protection over the apartment
you came over one day, no percy, and just did it with sally, explaining every crystal and bundle of herbs as you went
sally always smiles when she sees it
percy does too.
also, percy def calls you a multitude of witch themed nicknames
bro fr comes up with a new one at least once a day
creative ass mfer
also, you shyly gave him a card reading, once and the amount of times you ran into the lover card left you a blushing mess
percy couldn't stop laughing every time you flushed a vibrant red, not evening needing you to tell him which card it was as he could tell from your face.
but, you always list off all the facts of the cards, musing on and on about percy's future love life or his future job
and he tunes you out, just staring bc he doesn't need to know
as long as he's with his magic girl, he doesn't really care what happens
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borathae · 4 months
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↳ Index [Snippet #43 - Date Night]
"When you and Jungkook have your bi-monthly date night."
Genre: married life!AU, slice of life Fluff, Smut
Warnings: this is a two part story where one is a cute date and the other is them being kinky, a cute at-home dinner date, stargazing at the beach, i don’t think you guys understand. they’re in fucking love, cuddles, loving kisses, comforting intimacy, silly jokes and happy giggles, they share a blanket, he's a cutie, but also way too hot to handle, making out, neck kisses, the rest of the warnings are for the smut, rough but also soft Dom!Jungkook, sub!Reader, she's deep in safe subspace, he's so greedy for her orgasms, thigh humping, use of leather handcuffs, he is pierced & tattooed, lingerie kink, perfume kink, ass spanking, hole spanking with his cock, hair pulling, they use the traffic light system and he does something very sexy with it, besties i need him to run me over, he calls her princess & babygirl, praise, good girl kink, dirty talk, sexy possessive talk, oral in multiple positions (f.receiving) -> face sitting & propped up against pillows, vaginal fingering, strength kink, nipple sucking, he's both gentle & rough with her, multiple intense orgasms for her & him, he makes her squirt more than once, use of lube, he spits on her hole jjsj, passionate pronebone, rough doggy, he uses her handcuffs as leverage, the fact that he is both a head pusher and a hip puller, i need to be restrained, he's also an ass man, which means he will rub her hole as he fucks her and talks about fucking it, creampies, remember how i talked about wanting to include the Daddy kink at least once with this couple? this is the drabble, and as someone who normally has the Daddy kink on her no-no-list let me tell you that IT IS HOT, besties i'm losing it what is kook doing to me, cuddly & giggly aftercare, they're in love and kinky <3
Wordcount: 15.5k it's long but you sluts get a cute date AND kinky sex
a/n: you guys don't understand. you guys don't understand. jungkook consumes my every thought. fuck istfg it's so hard being a jungkook stan. i fucking blame him and his recent attidute. like, i always knew he is a greedy lover but it's escalating. this man doesn't need the sheets to be wet after, he needs them to be SOAKED and i know that i'm right. i fucking can't take it anymore i need to be put down like a rabid animal. enjoy besties 🧡 ps: i apologise for the long warnings hahaha i always wanna make sure you guys KNOW what happens in my smut
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You are genuinely obsessed with your husband. If there was ever a competition of wife most obsessed with her husband you would win it.
You love the way he looks when he just woke up, making breakfast in nothing but his briefs and his hair still a total mess. You love how he greets you in a groggy yet loving voice and how you always end up with him as your warm, toasty backpack as you listen to the morning radio and watch the sunlight catch in your window crystals. 
You love the way he looks when he comes straight out of the shower, hair still damp and lower body hidden behind a towel. You love when he wears a face mask and how he always smells especially good during those post-shower moments where you cuddle into him and smell his skin.
You love the way he looks when he leaves for work, all well-put together and you love how he looks when he comes home again, just a little less well-put together. You love that he always greets you with a hug-kiss-combination and that he says goodbye the same way.
You love how he looks when he comes back from a work out or swim and how he always greets you with a kiss on the cheek and a nonchalant “the workout was especially good today. I feel like I can do anything” and how on most days, he gives you a little cocky flex of his muscles.
You love how he looks when he works in the garden, how he mows the lawn and cuts the scrubs, how he renovates the decking or sweeps the driveway. 
You love how he looks when he works in the house, when he cleans or does laundry or cooks, when he does repairs and silly little tasks.
You love how he looks when he is relaxing next to you in nothing but scrubby sweats and a wrinkled shirt, when he is watching TV or sketching tattoos.
You love how he looks when he is cuddled up in bed ready for sleep. When his eyes are just a little droopier than usual and he takes ages to finish a sentence because he is so sleepy and yet he still wants to talk.
You love how he looks when he is eating and drinking and laughing and having fun. How he looks when he smiles, but also how he looks when he cries or gets angry.
You love him, you love him, you love how he is so perfectly himself in every single moment of life. 
And tonight you can’t wait to have him with you again.
It was your turn to cook tonight because you weren’t working today while Jungkook had been busy with responsibilities since the early morning. So early in fact, that you missed out on post-wake-up-Jungkook. You missed out on so much. 
Next to today being your free day, it was also a very special day. Bi-monthly date night. In theory, today’s theme would have been outdoor activities, but you and Jungkook agreed via text not to go out today and instead stay in. 
Which was perfectly fine with you because it meant that you could cook his favourite food and prepare a cozy evening. You love cooking for him. It brings you a lot of joy to prepare something yummy and to know that he finds happiness through delicious food. 
And tonight, you made it look especially pretty. You even decorated the dining table and slipped into one of Jungkook’s favourite dresses, wearing the jewellery he got for you throughout your years together.
You are just about to put the last finishing touches on the plating when the door to the garage opens and closes. 
“Sweetie! I’m home!”
“In the kitchen!” you tell him, feeling giddy in excitement.  
You work quickly to bring the food to the table, managing just in time before Jungkook already enters the kitchen.
He is smiling the second he lays eyes on you, looking dishevelled from a long day and carrying a bouquet of flowers and a box of cake from Seokjin’s diner.
“Wow look at you, you’re beautiful”, he says as he places the cake on the island counter. He meets you in the middle, allowing you to pull him down as you throw yourself around his neck. He snakes his arm around your waist, caressing your lower back as happy giggles leave him, “happy date night, sweetheart.”
“Happy date night, Kookie”, you are talking into the crook of his neck, swaying your bodies from side to side. He smells like outside and motor grease because he helped Hoseok in the garage today with some bike repairs, “how was your day?”
“Long and exhausting, but not bad. I’m happy to be home with you.”
“I’m proud of you, baby. You managed today”, you praise him which makes him giggle and squeeze you, “and I made you food because I love you.”
Jungkook sways with you, resting his chin on your shoulder while his eyes drink in everything you did. They lower more and more as your presence is relaxing him immensely. 
“You made my favourite”, he says, smiling. 
“Mhm yeah I did. It’s date night after all.”
“I love you, baby”, he says and tugs you closer, “mhm and you’re wearing my favourite dress. Sweetie, you’re looking too good to be true”, he says and runs his hand to your ass to grab it and squeeze. He doesn’t do it with an ulterior motive in mind. Grabbing, squeezing and slapping your butt is merely one of Jungkook’s love languages. It’s as normal with him as giving cheek kisses.
“I dressed up for you”, you say 
“I’m so blessed. Shit, I can’t believe I got lucky enough to marry you. You’re the most beautiful woman, ___”, he says and hums, wrapping you up in a strong hug as his lips attack your cheek with the biggest smooch in humankind. It makes you giggle and squeak because it feels so good to be adored by him. 
He steps back afterwards, keeping his hand on your hip as he guides the flowers into your vision.
“For my one true love.” 
“Gosh, Kookie. Thank you so much. I love them”, you accept them with a fluttering heart, inspecting them giddily, “oh my god, my favourites. There’s so many of my favourites in the bouquet!”
“Do you like it? The flower lady said that they’re one of the last of the season. I would have gotten more, but she didn’t have any more.”
“I love them. Oh, I love them so much. Thank you so, so much”, you say and lean in for a kiss. 
The kiss lasts around two seconds and then Jungkook breaks it again. He licks his lips, covering his mouth with his hand.
“I feel like I’ve got bad breath, sorry”, he says.
“No, it’s okay. You’ve had worse”, you assure him.
“Wow, that’s reassuring”, he jokes, breathing into his own hand to check, “it’s bad, isn’t it? Sorry, I didn’t eat or drink anything today.”
“You just taste hungry, it’s fine”, you tell him and giggle, “I gotta put the flowers into water. Get comfy and start eating already, sweetie.”
Jungkook smiles, “I will. Just gotta hop in the shower quickly. It’ll take five minutes. I hope you don’t mind. I feel really disgusting.”
“No, I don’t mind. I already planned  in your shower in my schedule”, you say, making him chuckle.
“Thank you, baby”, he says as he leaves the kitchen, “I got Seokjin’s cheesecake for dessert.”
“I know, I saw. Thank you so much”, you call after him as you store the cake box he put on the kitchen island in the fridge for now.
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Jungkook comes back looking as handsome as ever. He changed out of his work clothes into some jeans and a jeans shirt which he kept unbuttoned to show off the white t-shirt underneath. He also styled his hair a little and brushed his teeth. 
“Ooh look at you”, you say and whistle.
“Thank you, thank you”, Jungkook says, striking a pose, “I tried”, he says and turns to show off his butt, “look at my ass”, he says, looking over his shoulder. 
“Gadyam that ass is to die for”, you say in a funny accent, whistling passionately to really get the message across.
“Yeah, right?” he slaps his own ass.
“The real cake’s your ass, baby.”
Jungkook laughs, stumbling because of it. You snicker, scrunching your nose. 
“You look so handsome, Kookie”, you say.
“Yeah, heh”, he lets out a soft giggle, touching the side of his neck, “thanks.”
“Now look at the food please. I worked so hard on it”, you say, pushing him to the dining table gently.
“Uuuh show me pretty food”, he coos, doing a little dance as he gets shoved to the table. He lets you sit him down, looking at the food intently, “wow darling, this is the prettiest plate I ever saw. I don’t wanna touch it ‘cause I’ll ruin it.”
You give his shoulders a gentle massage, bouncing on the spot excitedly, “no try it. Try it.”
Jungkook cuts off a piece of the perfectly grilled meat, dips it in some sauce and guides it to his lips. He eats it deliciously, frowning the deepest frown instantly.
“Mhm”, he exhales, dropping against you in a dramatic faint. He keeps his eyes close, chewing deliciously as his frown lines grow. 
His reactions to good food will always make you snicker. He’s so adorable.
“Like it?”
Jungkook looks up at you, frowning at you. He nods his head.
“It’s amazing. Thank you baby, I love it”, he says with a full mouth.
“I’m happy to hear that”, you say, smooching his forehead. You give his shoulders one last squeeze and then hurry to your spot. You picked the chair at the end of the table and next to Jungkook so you could be close but still look at each other. 
You pull it out halfway and then Jungkook jumps up.
“Wait! Let me”, he exclaims, snatching the chair from you.
“Oh? Well, thank you good sir”, you snicker, letting him help you with sitting down.
“Of course my beautiful lady”, he says and fixes the chair for you. He touches your shoulders, running his hands down your arms as he leans in for a loving kiss to the side of your neck. 
You tilt your head, allowing him access. His lips are soft, his piercings tickle your skin, his content purr swirls over your neck. 
“You’re wearing perfume”, he rasps, dragging his nose up and down your neck while his fingers feel up your upper arms. 
“It’s date night.”
“Fuck baby, I feel like I gotta do more. You’re looking like a goddess and smelling like heaven and I’m over here looking like shit”, he says.
“No, you don’t. You look handsome.”
“I smell like grease. I washed my arms so thoroughly, but I still smell like it.”
“It’s a sexy smell. Don’t worry”, you say, “I like it when you work in Hobi’s garage. It’s hot.” 
“Mhm, you’re too good to me”, he says, kissing the shell of your ear, “if you let me, I’m gonna make you see stars later”, he whispers, biting your earlobe gently and sending shivers down your spine with it.
“Don’t talk like this”, you whisper.
Jungkook chuckles, “why not?”
“Because it’s making me shy.”
“You are not shy, come on baby”, he laughs, “you like it. Don’t pretend that you don’t.” 
“Whatever”, you murmur, “eat your food, you sweet talker.”
“Mhm, I will. Food’s amazing.”
Jungkook eats with a frown, humming and moaning in enjoyment. His reactions make cooking so worthwhile. Preparing food wouldn’t be the same without the aspect of Jungkook aggressively enjoying it afterwards. You can’t stop watching him, feeling your heart flutter. 
You are truly so obsessed with your husband. 
“Did you finish the bike today?” you ask him, fighting the urge to reach out and trace his features. 
“Yeah, we did. Wah baby, you have no idea what a struggle that was”, he says and purses his lips in a pout.
“Yeah? What happened?”
“The oil fuse acted up and we had to disassemble so much more than we initially planned. Wah and then the new one didn’t wanna fit, I seriously. Seriously”, he squeaks the last word to really pronounce how much he wanted to do it, “wanted to throw the whole bike.”
“Wah that sounds annoying. Did you fix the issue?”
“Mhm of course”, he is smirking cockily, lifting his brows, “your hubby knows what’s up with bikes, ‘course I fixed the issue.”
“You’re so cool”, you say, ruffling his hair gently, “I married a genius.”
He scrunches his nose, wiggling his shoulders happily, “yeah, heh”, he is talking cutely again, gazing at you with sparkling eyes. 
“And the tattoo? Did she really come?”
“Mh-hm yeah”, he nods his head, “she got it and then we even agreed on a second appointment for another tattoo.”
“Oh? That’s nice. In the same style?”
“Yup, she wants it to match. I already have ideas for it, but I can’t draw anymore today.”
“Course not, it’s date night”, you say, nudging his cheek. 
“Yeah obviously that’s the main reason”, he says, making you chuckle. He smiles and shoves a big bite of the amazing food into his mouth. He chews happily, washing it down with another bite. He really loves the food. He will never take it for granted when you cook. He feels so lucky to be yours, he really does. 
He swallows the food and takes a sip of the beer, then talks.
“What’s your plan for tonight?” he asks.
“I was thinking dinner first and then we take dessert down to the beach and do some stargazing.”
“I love it”, he says, smiling dreamily.
“You do?” 
“Mhm yeah”, he brushes the back of his hand down your cheek, ending it with a gentle touch to your upper lip.
“Don’t. I’m wearing lipstick.”
“Oop. Sorry”, he gasps, pulling his finger away, “baby don’t wear lipstick, I mean you look beautiful and it fits you so fucking good, but what about the kissies?” he whines, making you laugh.
“As if you ever cared about getting lipstick on yourself. You can still get your kissies.”
“Yeah true”, he grins, looking at your lips. He moves in for a kiss, teasing you just a little by nibbling on your lower lip. He gives you a playful smirk as he moves back, letting his eyes run over your face, “you’re so pretty”, he says and eats a big bite of the food, “mhm and food’s amazing. Wah, so good.”
“You make me happy, you know?” you say and eat as well. 
Jungkook smiles, “you make me happy too, baby.” 
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You clean the kitchen together before leaving for the beach. Jungkook is wiping the counters while you busy yourself with loading the dishwasher. Except that you get as far as loading the plates and one pot before Jungkook turns around at the noise of it.
“Baby, what are you doing?” 
“Loading the dishwasher. We’re quicker together.”
“But you already cooked. Baby, don’t do that”, he laughs and hurries to you so he could hug you from behind and walk you away from the dishwasher this way. He blows raspberries on your neck as he does, making you belt out a squeaky laugh. 
“Stop that, eek”, you squeal, fighting him with squirms. 
Ones Jungkook easily manages. It results in him attacking your neck once again and for you to almost choke on your laughter. 
He laughs, giving your neck a little bite to end it with. He twirls you in his arms and lifts you on top of the kitchen island. He runs his hands up your torso to cup your cheeks and squish them gently.
“That was so awful”, you laugh, wiping at your neck. 
“No, it wasn’t. It was fun.”
“Says that person who did the slobbering.”
“Excuse me? I didn’t slobber”, he laughs, squishing your cheeks more vigorously.
You snicker, giving him a look which lets him know that you were teasing him. His eyes soften.
“My cutie”, he says, pulling you in for a kiss. 
You sigh and touch his neck, hoping for so much more but getting nothing than a gentle peck. He puts distance between your faces, soothing over your face gently. His eyes spill over with adoration. 
“Come back”, you say, pulling him close by the front of his shirt.
Jungkook lets you, grabbing your hips. He is smirking, studying your face.
“I want you to kiss me properly”, you say as you touch his undercut, “not just a stupid peck.”
“Mhm, I can do that”, he says in a seductive voice, leaning in for a proper kiss.
You sigh happily, keeping him close with your legs around his waist, while Jungkook increases the closeness by grabbing your ass. His hands feel so warm, gripping you with a comfortable strength.
You break the kiss with a soft tug on his lower lip, eliciting a happy purr from him.
“That was better”, you whisper, watching in delight how Jungkook gazes at your lips.
“Mhm yeah”, he rasps quietly, “it was pretty fucking good.”
“Yeah”, you giggle sweetly, wiping the lipstick from his lips, “now let’s go eat cake by the beach.”
“Wah baby, you’re mean. Kissing me like that and then expecting me to be normal.”
“Mh-hm yep. I’ve got what I wanted.”
“So you were just using me?”
“Mhm, yeah.”
Jungkook chuckles, squeezing your ass. His eyes sparkle, showing how into the flirting he is.
“I’ve got something waiting for you on the beach. Do you wanna see?”
“Oh? Another surprise?”
You give him a wiggle of your brows and a mischievous grin. Jungkook squeezes your butt in reaction, looking excited.
“Fine”, he chuckles, “let’s go eat cake by the beach.”
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You hold hands as you walk through the garden, enjoying the mild night. You take the steps down to the beach, using the faint stair lights as your guidance. Jungkook holds your hand the entire way down, making you feel so much safer. 
Once you are almost down by the beach, you turn. You grab Jungkook’s small waist, beaming up at him. 
“Close your eyes.”
“Now? On the stairs?” 
“Yeah.”
 “But baby, what if I fall?” 
“Trust me. Imma keep you safe. Please Googie.” 
“Okay?” Jungkook says and closes his eyes, “baby, you gotta hold my hands now.”
“Here grab ‘em.”
“Where are you? Baby”, he whines  making you laugh.
“Right. Here”, you intertwine your fingers, “you doofus, stop panicking.” 
“It’s scary stuff, good ma’am”, he jokes, eliciting yet another laugh from you. You won’t ever stop laughing at his antics. He is truly the funniest person alive. 
“Just follow me. There are two more steps and then we’ll be in the sand. There we go, just keep walking. One more step, careful you’re at the edge, okay step down. And we’re down.”
“Can I open my eyes now?”
“No. Follow my voice, I’ll guide you.”
“You’re making it so dramatic. What did you prepare?”
“Something. Almost there. Aaand open your eyes.”
Jungkook obeys, letting out a loud gasp instantly. 
“Wow baby, this is beautiful!”
You set up a picnic blanket on the sand. You didn’t dare to go too close to the water because you know how high the ocean can rise overnight. Instead, you picked out a dry spot close to the steps, using fairylights to illuminate the night.
You pick up a vase of flowers from the blanket, presenting it to him.
“We had the same idea. Happy date night, baby”, you say.
“You got me flowers? Baby. Thank you”, Jungkook gasps in a breathy voice, accepting the flowers with gleaming eyes, “they’re beautiful, wow baby.”
“Do you like them?”
“Of course I do. Wow, thank you”, Jungkook drapes his arm around your waist to pull you in for a kiss. And another kiss on your cheek with a loud, “mwuah.”
You giggle, rubbing his chest gently.
“Thank you so much. Wah, my heart’s racing like crazy.”
“I know. I can feel it”, you scrunch your nose happily, “wanna eat the cake now?”
“Yeah. Wow, I still can’t believe you got me flowers. We can put our bouquets next to each other so they’re a couple too.”
“That would be so cute. Yes, let’s do that.” 
You and he get comfortable on the blanket. Jungkook places the vase in the sand  while you open the cake box, revealing two pieces of cake. Your fairylights and the stair lights give you enough vision. 
“Mhhm that looks amazing”, you say, handing Jungkook his fork. 
“Yeah, it looks yummy. Uh! Uh-uh”, he stops you from poking your cake, fighting off your fork gently.
“What’s with you?” you ask in a chuckle.
“Let me”, he says and breaks off a piece. 
“Fine. A woman can’t do anything here.”
“Exactly”, he says, making you snort and laugh in amusement.
You watch him with fond eyes. He lifts the piece to his lips and kisses it, before guiding it to your mouth. You accept it with giggles, looking deep into his eyes because he is enchanting you like crazy. Once the piece of cake is in your mouth, Jungkook leans closer and kisses your lips. 
You and he chuckle into it, ending it with a gentle nose rub. 
“Thanks”, you say, chewing the cake.
“Mhm ‘course. My queen shouldn’t have to work”, he says and pokes the cake with his fork. He breaks off a piece and eats it, furrowing his brows in approval. 
Your heart flutters. You can’t take it anymore. You love this man so much. You close the distance so you can fall into his side and rest your cheek on his shoulder, letting out an almost girly giggle as your eyes gaze up at him.
Jungkook cranes his neck to kiss your forehead, then rests his head against yours. He drapes his arm over you, rubbing your skin gently. 
“God baby, you’re freezing”, he gasps, “do you want my shirt?”
“It’s not that bad.”
“No. No, it’s not okay. Come on, take my shirt”, he says, scrambling to get it off. He gets on his knees behind you and drapes it over your shoulders, smoothing his hands down your arms.
The shirt smells like him. His warmth lingering in the jeans fabric seeps into your body. You weren’t even cold and yet it still feels so much better with his shirt hugging you.
“How’s that?”
You crane your neck to look at him.
“Better. Thank you.”
“Mhm”, he leans down to kiss your forehead.
You enjoy it with closed eyes and a racing heart. 
Jungkook sits down next to you again after the forehead kiss, breaking off a piece of cheesecake to eat.
“No”, you push it off his fork.
“Hey, not cool”, Jungkook laughs.
“Let me”, you say and pick up the piece. You guide it to your lips for a kiss before feeding it to Jungkook.
“You used my tricks. That’s cheating”, he giggles and gets his complains kissed away. Two kisses on his lips and one on his jawline. He leans into the jawline kiss, closing his eyes. 
“My king shouldn’t have to work”, you whisper and kiss his favourite spot on his jawline 
“Mhm, you feel good”, he purrs.
“Mhm and you smell good”, you whisper, giving him one last kiss before sitting back again. You break off a piece of the sweet cake and eat it.
Jungkook glances at you, shuddering visibly.
“You made tingles go down my back”, he confesses, “that spot feels good.”
“Yeah?”
He nods his head, shoving a piece of cake into his mouth afterwards. He chews with his eyes just slightly widened.
“I liked it too.”
“Yeah, my sweetie”, Jungkook murmurs and relaxes with a sigh. He lets his eyes drift to the dark ocean, enjoying another piece of cake as he does.
You do the same, eating it while your heart is going haywire in your chest. You stay like this until you finish the cake. You can’t take the heart palpitations anymore. You glance at him. Jungkook notices and meets your eyes. 
“What’s wrong?” he asks.
“Nothing, just making sure that you’re real.”
“And? Am I?” he is smiling.
“I don’t know yet”, you say, leaning closer, “I don’t know if I’ll ever really believe that I’m living my life. It’s so perfect.”
“Yeah, it’s pretty fucking epic.”
“And you’re so perfect.”
“Come on, I’m far from perfect”, he flusters.
“You’re perfect to me. Being with you just doesn’t lose its spark.”
“Yeah, I feel the same”, he says, draping his arm around you, “I think it’s really fucking amazing that we both put so much effort into our relationship. It means a lot to me because I want to put work into us, so it feels good that you reciprocate it.” 
“Of course I do. It’s a lot work, but I’m not exhausted by it at all and I enjoy it so much. It’s work I look forward to and I get the most joy out of.”
“I enjoy it as well, sweetie. It never feels exhausting. I actually really love it.”
“Yes, I love it too.”
You cuddle into him. He rests his head against yours.
“I love date nights. They’re the best.”
“They are”, he agrees, “I’ve already got ideas for outdoor date night.”
“You do?”
“Mh-hm. What do you think about burgers at Seokjin’s and then bowling down in Saint Marco?”
“Yes, I’d love that. But we gotta take pics at the photo booth this time around.”
“Yeah, right”, he chuckles, “still can’t believe that we didn’t do it last time.”
“Yeah we were idiots.”
“Yeah”, he chuckles and kisses the crown of your head.
You and he share a few snuggles and enjoy the quiet of the beach. The waves come and go in quiet gurgles. The far away road is louder than the ocean right now. The sound of a bike passes you by. You wonder if it was one of your friends. Maybe Taehyung is on his way home, maybe Jimin finished his shift at the club. Perhaps Yoongi is on his way to his husband, bringing flowers like you know him. Or maybe it was a stranger passing through town. Whoever it might have been, you hope that they arrive safely at their destination.
“I’m so obsessed with you Kook, it’s literally mental”, you break the silence and laugh, “you still manage to give me butterflies.”
“Good, cause you’re givin’ me butterflies too. Like, so many.” 
You smile, craning your neck to look at him. He meets your eyes and smiles, leaning in for a kiss. He tastes like cheesecake and smiles. You taste the same. The kiss is so nice. So perfect. So amazing. 
Being with each other is the best thing in the world. 
You stub each other’s noses to end the kiss, turning your attention to the dark ocean afterwards. The stars are bright tonight, courtesy of the moon missing as it is currently a new moon. 
You glance at him again. You thought that you can handle those tingles by now, but you can’t. You fall into him again, hugging his waist and nuzzling your nose into his upper arm as little giggles leave you. 
Jungkook lets it happen with a fluttering heart.
“You’re so touchy today”, he says, draping his arm over you.
“I just love you so much”, you say, swaying him from side to side aggressively.
“I love you too, sweetie”, Jungkook chuckles, letting it happen. It ends with you and him falling down onto the blanket. The cake box was thankfully empty because you sent it flying with a clumsy kick. 
“Careful”, Jungkook laughs.
“Sorry, god, lost balance”, you snicker. 
“I figured”, Jungkook giggles and rolls to his back, staring up into the dark sky with his hair tousled on the blanket. You do the same, reaching above your head to turn off the fairy lights. The automatic stair lights already turned off by now, so you and he find yourselves in total darkness 
“Woah, dark”, Jungkook gasps.
“Sorry, should have warned you. We can see the stars better this way.”
“Yeah right”, Jungkook settles into the blanket, “I love this”, he says and goes to hold your hand.
“Me too”, you answer him and hold his hand as tightly as possible. 
You don’t feel like you age with Jungkook. Of course you and he grow older and it’s the best feeling in the world to know that you do it together, but you don’t feel older with him. When you are with him, you will always feel young. And when you hold hands, you know that just for a short moment in history you and he can actually stop time. 
Only the moving stars and the singing ocean are proof that time never stops. It’s okay though, because you have Jungkook and Jungkook has you. A cool breeze swirls over your bodies. 
“Brrr”, Jungkook lets out and cuddles into you, “I’m cold. Gimme sum of that shirt”, he says as he tries to wiggle himself under it.
“Wait Kook, I’ve got a second blanket”, you laugh and sit up to snatch it.
“You really came prepared, didn’t you?” 
“Of course. It’s date night”, you say and unfold the blanket with the help of the wind, “and we need something to stay warm for stargazing”, you add as you lie back down.
You hand Jungkook one end of the blanket and together, you manage to cover your bodies with it. Jungkook wiggles happily, rolling to his side so he could drape his arm over your stomach and kiss your cheek.
“So cozy”, he mumbles, kissing your cheek again.
You nuzzle closer, “yeah, cozy and warm.”
“Mhm, yeah”, Jungkook is whispering as he can’t seem to stop kissing your cheek and jawline. He gives you a soft squeeze, exhaling against your neck, “you smell so good.”
You lean into his kisses, closing your eyes halfway. You reach up to run your hands along the arm he has around you, sharing in comfort this way. It feels so nice to be with each other.
“No but seriously, how do you smell so nice?” he whispers.
“I put on perfume.”
“I know, but it’s insane how good you smell like”, he nuzzles his nose into you to the point where it squishes, “I can’t get enough of it.”
You giggle, moving away just a little because the movement tickled. Jungkook soothes it with kisses.
“And you’re so pretty in your dress”, he continues to fanboy, caressing your side with his fingertips, “and the jewellery fits you so well and then your makeup looks flawless. Wah baby, you’re seriously making my heart race.”
You giggle, feeling like bursting in happiness. It feels so good to have your effort appreciated. You feel even prettier than you already did.
Jungkook sighs happily, cuddling closer.
“My wifey”, he whispers, squeezing you gently, “my lovely wifey.”
“Kookie oh god”, you squeal and overtaken by happiness, you roll over to attack his face with kisses. You squish his cheeks between your hands for it, making him giggle.
You have the upper hand for a second before Jungkook rolls you onto your back and scoops you up in his arms, attacking your face and neck with kisses and nuzzles. 
You squeak at first but soon end up cackling in a rather unflattering manner. To Jungkook, it is the sweetest sound ever. This is what your true happiness sounds like. You couldn’t fake this even if you tried to. 
“Mhm baby”, Jungkook stops his kisses, lifting his head. He’s got your hands pinned above your head, clutched tightly in his fingers. You gaze up at him, feeling so safe like this. Jungkook studies your features. They look so pretty, “fuck baby, you’ve got me wanting to act up. I love it when you laugh.”
“Koo”, you whisper, squeezing his hands.
This nickname. Jungkook knows that it only falls from your lips when he’s got you feeling submissive. It’s during those moments when he made you feel safe and giddy and taken care of. It won’t ever lose its spark for him. 
“Mhm, baby?” he asks, placing his elbows on each side of your head. Your arms stretch further above your head, his fingers tighten around your hands.
“I don’t know”, you breathe, looking at his pierced lips, “just wanted to say it.” 
“You’re so cute”, he whispers and steals a kiss. You make sure he doesn’t leave by chasing him. 
Jungkook allows you to kiss him and play with his lip piercings. You love to trace them with your tongue, suck them between your lips and gently tug on them with your teeth. He loves when you do that. It feels so good to him, getting him all riled up for you.
The blanket is keeping you warm. Jungkook is halfway on top of you, having one of his legs between yours. The ocean is rushing in the background, but the only sounds you really take in, are Jungkook’s little noises. He is such a vocal kisser, always letting you know that he loves it. His hands are pinning you down, his grip is so gentle yet strong.
You break the kiss because you needed to squirm and look at him, “Koo”, you keen quietly, rubbing your thighs against his leg. His jeans feel rough against your skin.
“Yes, princess?” Jungkook whispers in a raspy voice and his eyes gleaming in fondness.
You giggle, growing smaller in safe submission. Jungkook chuckles deeply, lowering his eyes halfway. 
“My princess”, he rasps, eliciting another giggle from you. 
You can’t explain what he makes you feel. It’s a sensation deep in your chest. Your heart races and you can genuinely sense a giddiness around it. Safety and comfort fills you as well. And the desire to be completely and utterly his’. All you know is that you love this feeling and that tonight it feels especially good. 
“Koo, I wanna kiss you.”
“I wanna kiss you too, princess”, Jungkook says and abandons your wrists for the sake of cradling your cheeks. You cup his face instantly, pulling him into a kiss.
Jungkook purrs happily, finding your rhythm without problems. He kissed you enough times by now that he knows exactly how you like it. 
Your hands slide to the back of his head, feeling up his prickly undercut. Jungkook moans softly, tracing your upper lip with his tongue to let you know that he likes the touch. You like it as well, repeating it over and over again.
You witnessed most of Jungkook’s hair phases. You witnessed his permed hair, his short hair, his long hair and every length in between. He currently keeps his hair short and with an undercut. You always help him keep it neat. It feels so good under your fingertips. Prickly when you dance them up and soft when you move them down again. 
Jungkook is moaning a lot which makes it feel even better. Bear in mind that his sounds aren’t of completely horny nature. No. Your husband also moans because of yummy food or a relaxing massage. His noises right now merely meant that he is enjoying this as much as he can. 
He rolls hips into your thigh, purring deeply. His knee rubs against your middle this way, sending warmth through you. Okay, perhaps there is also desire in his noises. 
“Fuck baby, you’re perfect”, Jungkook rasps and breaks the kiss for the sake of worshiping your neck, “my perfect princess. Mhm, babygirl. My babygirl”, he murmurs as his puffy lips dance over your neck and jawline.  
“Koo”, you sigh, “Koo, I wanna go back.”
“Yes?”
You nod your head.
“If that’s so. Come, princess”, he says and sits back on his heels, pulling you up with him. Like this, your legs are around him and he can touch your upper arms.
He is so much taller than you in this position, keeping your eyes locked on his face by doing nothing but existing.
“My pretty girl”, he whispers, caressing your cheek. 
You giggle, “Koo, stop teasing. I wanna leave.” 
“Fine, okay”, he laughs, “let’s go.”
You and he pack up together and go back to your house, holding hands as you do. You leave the blanket outside, wiping off your feet before entering. Jungkook carries the empty cheesecake boxes while you carry the blanket you used to cover yourselves with. You discard it on the armchair by the glass door while Jungkook leaves for the kitchen.
You and he meet in the hallway.
“Come with me”, you say, taking his hands.
“More surprises?” he gasps.
“Yeah”, you turn so you are facing him as you walk, “in my room.”
“Baby, goddamn it. You’re doing too much. My heart can handle only that much”, he gushes, making your own heart flutter.
“You’ll love it.”
“Of course I will. God, com’ere you perfect woman you”, he says and sweeps you off your feet to kiss you.
You giggle into the kisses, squeezing your legs around his waist as he carries you to your room.
You left the door open so it’s easy for Jungkook to enter the room without accidentally knocking you into the door. He knows that you and he arrived because his feet know the layout of your home blindly. The floors in your room are softer because you have most of it covered with vintage rugs. He sets you down, snaking his arms around you as his right hand naturally grabs your ass and squeezes. He hums into the kiss, tingling like crazy when your fingers scratch his undercut greedily.
“We gotta stop”, you murmur into the kiss.
“Why?” he asks into the kiss.
“The surprise.”
“Mhm you gotta break it”, he says and goes to kiss your neck, “I can’t stop without your help. Mhm baby, my baby”, he adds as his lips suck spots of sensitivity onto your skin.
“Koo”, you sigh, melting in his arm. You don’t want him to stop. He feels so good. Your entire body tingles and feels electric at the same time. You don’t want to stop, but you have to. It will be worth it. You push at his chest gently, breaking the kisses this way.
Jungkook stumbles back, licking his puffy lips hungrily. He touches your waist, gazing at you longingly.
“Close your eyes please”, you tell him.
“Fuck, you’re messing with me”, he says in a deep chuckle, but obeys. He even covers them with his hands as he naturally begins to play with his own lip piercings.
You work quickly to get ready. You don’t want to stop kissing either, so being apart from him is just as torturous for you than it is for him. You take off your dress and the shirt he borrowed you, but keep the jewellery on. You check to see if the set of lingerie you picked out sits nicely on your body and then get on top of the mattress. He has his back turned to you
“Okay, open your eyes”, you tell him.
Jungkook obeys, “huh? where are you?” he asks and looks around the room.
“Here.”
He turns.
“Holy fuck baby”, he gasps, falling to his knees instantly, “look at you. What are you doing? Baby”, he asks in an enchanted laugh and his hands cradling your cheeks instantly.
You kneeled down on the mattress, presenting a pair of black leather handcuffs to him.
“Look at you. Holy fuck, look at you. Baby, fuck babygirl”, he babbles as he lets his hands run over your body hungrily, “is this a new set? I’ve never seen it before.”
“Yeah, it’s new. Do you like it?”
“I fucking love it. Holy shit, you’re so fucking beautiful. babygirl, please just”, he comes closer and squeezes your waist, “holy fuck, just holy fuck.”
He exhales shakily and finally looks at the handcuffs you present perfectly on the palms of your hands.
“What’s that?” he asks and picks them up.
You turn your back to him and present your wrists to him behind your back. You make sure to arch so he can have the perfect view of your ass and just how little fabric is covering it.
Jungkook growls hungrily, placing his big hand on your hip while his lips begin nipping on your shoulder desperately.
“Did you wear this under the dress?” he asks.
“Yeah”, you sigh, rolling your head back to rest it against him.
“Holy fuck and I had no idea. Oh my fucking god, I might pass out”, he gets out and rolls his crotch against your ass, “I’m gonna fuck you so fucking hard, babygirl. You’ve brought this upon yourself, I hope you’re aware of it.”
“Yeah”, you whimper, meeting his needy grinds, “Koo please tie me up. I need to be punished.”
“Yeah you do”, Jungkook rasps in his sexy Dom voice, biting your neck gently, “my sexy woman, fuck I could eat you up”, he adds and breaks away from you with a heavy heart. He wants to keep kissing you and grinding against you, but he has some hands to tie.
He works skillfully. Those handcuffs aren’t foreign to him. He tied you up with them a hundred times before and had the honour to be tied up with them just as many times. They’re a staple in your sexlife and up until now, they haven’t disappointed yet. He tightens them just enough that you feel pressure around your wrists, but not tight enough to cause pain. He checks the tightness with a finger asking you if you were feeling comfortable to which you said that you are.
He glides his hands to the back of your head. Your hair tangles with his fingers. He pushes, pressing you face first into the mattress. You let it happen with a needy moan and your ass chasing him in needy wiggles. He keeps his hand on your head while he undresses with his other hand. He makes sure that you can see it happening. His tattooed, bejeweled hand is working his belt open and later works on unbuttoning his jeans, all while his fingers are keeping a tight grip on your head. The aspect of power and feeling so vulnerable in his presence makes you dripping fucking wet. Jungkook slips his jeans down and somehow wiggles out of them.
“Stay down”, he orders in the end as he needs to use both hands to get them over his thighs. They’re huge thighs. No wonder he needs help.
You don’t even think about disobeying him. You rarely want to disobey him because you have such a great time being his sub that all you want is to receive, receive and receive all his attention. Jungkook is so smitten for you that he will be rough with you when you beg for it, so you don’t really feel like acting up. Not when you can simply beg for a punishment.
Jungkook keeps his briefs on. Tight Calvins, which seem so tiny now that his cock has grown so much. His bulge is huge, having grown all the way down his left leg as this is where he stuffed his cock. He takes off his shirt and throws it to the side.
Then he finally closes in on you again, connecting his crotch with your ass as he bends over. He buries his hand back in your hair, brushing his lips against the shell of your ear as he talks. His chest is pressed into your back, his nipple piercings are rubbing against you.
“You’re such a good girl. I didn’t even have to repeat my orders”, he rasps as he continuously grinds into your ass, “we’re gonna work with the traffic light system tonight ‘cause I need you to keep me in fucking check. Understood?”
“Yes”, you keen, wiggling your hands just to get a feel for his abs.
He tingles at your touch, rewarding you with a flex of his abs.
“Good girl. Let’s practice right now, okay?”
You nod your head as best as his tight grip allows you to.
“Good girl. I’ll ask you how you feel right now, then I’ll give you five spanks because you still need to get your punishment and then you’ll tell me again how you feel. Are we understood?”
“Yes”, your voice trembled as you spoke.
“Good girl. How do you-”
“Green”, you fall into his voice.
Jungkook chuckles, kissing your cheek, “fine, seven times. Naughty girl, falling into my question like that”, he rasps and straightens up. He runs his hand up and down your ass, holding you in place with his other hand on your hip.
You moan even if he is barely doing anything. You are so fucking needy for him. He knows exactly how to get your mind fucked. Making a play out of using the traffic light system is only something your husband could think of and it’s making you so needy that you want to keep chanting “green, green, green” over and over again. But you don’t. Instead you arch your back and wait for the first spank with your lungs barely wanting to work.
Jungkook lifts his hands and lands the first spank of seven.
“Ah”, you moan loudly and tremble. So much pressure released with this spank, but there is still so much left that it barely felt like relief.
Jungkook lifts his hand again. The connection is rough, forcing your ass to jiggle and you to moan. By the time Jungkook lands his third spank, you realise that he doesn’t relieve you of any of the pressure, on the contrary it is growing with each spank. With the fourth spank, you are fucking your hips back against nothing, moaning squeakily because the movement makes your panties grind against your clit and that feels so good right now.
“Stay still”, Jungkook orders, increasing his grip on your hip, “I didn’t tell you to squirm for me, did I?”
“Koo please”, you beg, arching your back.
“Yeah, that’s better. Keep arching your back, it makes your ass look so fucking perfect, babygirl”, he praises and rewards you with two consecutive spanks on your ass. Harsh and rough. Burning heat remains, pain crawls over your skin and stays because he keeps his hot palm pressed against you.
Only one more left. You wiggle your hands, spilling another moan. You are so sad that it’s almost over. He could spank you for the next hour and you wouldn’t grow bored.
Jungkook lifts his hand and lands the last spank, ending it by slipping his hand between your legs to rub your pussy over your panties. He does it with enough pressure to force your legs to tremble and for your voice to get incredibly squeaky as you moan.
“There we go. We did it”, he speaks as if he isn’t currently rubbing your pussy to a forced orgasm and making you shake like crazy in the process. His left hand still keeps gripping your hip to keep you in place. It’s like he isn’t even aware of what he is doing to you, “now tell me how you feel, babygirl.”
“Green”, you whine, “green, please Koo please.”
“There we go, such a good girl and so wet too”, he praises, slipping his hand away to instead grab your ass and part it for him. The fabric is small enough that he can see your hole this way. The most vulnerable part is still covered by your panties, but the pretty surrounding area is on full display just for him. You are clenching it needily, writhing in his hands.
“How was that for practice? Do you think you can do the traffic light system, babygirl?” he asks as he studies your hole. He is so obsessed with it, fighting the urge to lick you until you are soft enough that he can fill you with his cock. He shouldn’t be greedy. Not tonight.
“Yes, I can. Oh god, you’re hurting me”, you whine and sob softly.
“Needy?” he asks with a smirk.
“Yeah, please Koo please. Hurts. Wanna be fucked, please.”
He chuckles deeply and pushes your ass closed again slowly, “cute”, he says and gives your buttocks one last squeeze for good measures. He takes your panties off, making you moan with it. He doesn’t say anything to it however, which drives you so much more insane. It feels so nonchalantly to him while you are almost breaking apart. He places your soaked panties aside and studies you for a moment. Your pussy is wet and swollen and your hole is finally exposed to him completely.
“So pretty”, is all he says and then he breaks away from behind you to instead drop in the sheets beside you. You lift your head, looking at him with confusion. He wiggles to get comfortable and sighs once he is happy with his position, then he meets your eyes.
“Do you want me, mhm?” he taunts.
“Yes please”, you beg, sitting up so you can squeeze your legs together, “oh god, Koo. I feel so sensitive.”
“I know princess, I saw how you were shaking”, he taunts and smirks. He nods his head, “go sit on my face. I want you to.”
“Koo, oh god”, you get out. You love to obey this order even if it is hard to do so. You are so wobbly on your legs already and all he did was spank you and rub your clothed pussy. Yes, you are aware that he is doing so much more than that. The entire evening and the way he is taking control right now is adding to how wobbly you feel.
Thankfully for you, Jungkook helps you get on top of him, holding your hips safely.
“There we go”, he says, snuggling his head into the pillow as he helps you with those last few inches, “closer, babygirl.”
You obey, feeling your pussy throb in anticipation. You are pretty sure that you already dripped onto his face. Jungkook doesn’t seem to mind, on the contrary. He moans as he turns his head and buries his face in your inner thigh. He moans again, inhaling hungrily.
“Fuck baby, you smell so good”, he purrs, nuzzling his nose into your inner thigh deeper. He inhales and exhales, “did you put perfume there too?”
“I did, yeah.”
“Baby”, he growls, grabbing your hips to squeeze them desperately, “fuck, I’m gonna go insane. You perfect woman you. Fucking sit on my face, babygirl. I’m actually serious.”
You relax just enough that he can finally tug you on top of his face. He growls deeply, welcoming your sweet pussy with an eager mouth. He goes gentle on normal days, guiding you into the sensations with soft kisses and tender licks. Tonight he doesn’t care about etiquette. Tonight he forces you into the sensation with eager sucks and hungry, wet licks, sending shakes through your legs.
“Sensitive”, you squeak out, scrunching your face, “Koo, I’m sensitive.”
“I know”, he is growling, “try to breathe babygirl”, he orders and continues his starved licks. He knows that you can take them. You just like to whine for the sake of it. Of course you’re sensitive, but you’re his good girl. You can take it. You have to take it because Jungkook can’t go slow tonight. You’ve got him desperate in desire.
You put so much effort into tonight. Way much effort than he anticipated for and he doesn’t take it for granted. He feels overwhelmed in love for you, he wants to rile you up just to make you cum over and over again until you physically can’t have another orgasm again. Only feasting on you like a starved man helps with it.  
You squirm above him, tugging at the handcuffs.
“Koo, I’m sensitive”, you whimper breathily, scrunching your eyes closed, “ah, mhm, ah plea- ah.”
He growls hungrily, grabbing your waist to keep you down on his mouth. He loves it when you shake and he especially loves it when you’re sitting on him as it happens. Your thighs are squeezing his head, worsening his hearing because they are over his ears. You feel so soft and warm that Jungkook hopes you squeeze him even harder. Your weight is perfect on his face to give him a sense of disorientation. He knows that he’s on your mattress, but if he didn’t have visual confirmation beforehand, he would have no idea where he is because currently all he sees, hears, feels, tastes and smells is you. This is the best kind of sensory distortion he could wish for.
Jungkook sucks your clit between his lips and begins suckling on it with deep moans rumbling in his chest. Your thighs shake around his head, you keen desperately.
It feels like burning electricity to have him eat you out. It is hard to breathe and yet you do way too much of it. You are panting, moaning between your breaths because this is all you can do. He already messed you up so much beforehand. His spanks, his words, his attitude and he nonchalant pussy rubbing he did, everything already made you so sensitive that you could have orgasmed right then and there. So to have his hot, dripping mouth make angry love to your pussy feels like too much.
“Sensitive, oh god”, you get out and then another wave of pleasure shakes your body, “Koo, oh god…”
The truth is, you love when he’s like that. Of course you love when he eases you into the sensations, when he is gentle and takes his time. But there is something especially hot about Jungkook losing his composure and eating you out as if you were his last meal on earth. He gets so rough with it, so disrespectful and messy. He doesn’t care about how dirty he gets or how many marks of sensitivity he leaves on your body. He is stronger and during those moments he doesn’t shy away from showing you just how much stronger he is. And that he will use this strength to keep you pinned on top of his eager mouth until you give him what he wants.
“Oh god Koo”, you whimper, convulsing on top of his face as he finally releases your pulsating clit to lick it quickly. He managed to get her so swollen and engorged that each flick of his tongue rewrites your definition of pleasure. “I have to cum. I’m sorry, I can’t hold it.”
Jungkook moans into you. He doesn’t slow down. He doesn’t give you time to catch your footing. No, this man likes that you are losing yourself, making sure that you are losing yourself even quicker.
“You’re so unfair”, you choke out and fall over the edge, “Koo, ah! You’re so unfair, a-ah.”
You collapse into the pillows, bending over so you could reach them. But even in the new position, Jungkook makes sure to keep your pussy locked onto his mouth as to lick you through your orgasm, growling and moaning into you as his hands leave bruises deep under your skin.
“Koo please holy fuck, please”, you wail into the pillow, shaking uncontrollably.
He growls into you, gripping your hips tightly to make sure you don’t flee before he allows you. You need to know what kind of orgasms you get when you put so much effort into date night. He needs you to fucking know that the more work you put into it, the harder he’ll make you cum. This is your reward as much as it is your punishment because Jungkook is going crazy for you.
“Stop please”, you beg, “oh god, I can’t do that, ah!” you plead, writhing on top of his face when he doesn’t slow down even now that your orgasm became overstimulation. Your clit is throbbing. Each time he drags his wet tongue over it, you swear that you have to pass out.
Your legs shake for a few more moments and then strength genuinely forsakes you. You collapse onto him, sitting your full weight on his face.
“Mhmhm”, he lets out in surprise, lifting you off as best as possible.
“Sorry, ah”, you whimper, fleeing instantly. You sit down in the sheets next to him, looking at him with glassy eyes, “I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine”, his voice is rough in the sexiest way, “just squished my nose, it didn’t hurt. Are you okay?”
“No, I’m embarrassed. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. Hey”, he sits up and cups your face to pull you into a kiss. He is covered in your orgasm, feeding you your taste with sloppy, addictive tongue kisses.
He kisses you until he can hear you whimper again. He knows that he’s got you distracted and so he breaks the kiss with a soft tug on your lower lip.
“Are you quiet, mhm?” he asks.
You nod your head, looking at him with glassy, but happy eyes.
“Good. Now get comfy in the pillows. I’m not done with you.”
“Koo, oh god” you say, obeying happily. You rest back against the heap of pillows, shuffling your cuffed arms into a comfortable position.
“Good girl”, Jungkook praises and takes your legs to prop them up on the sheets. He spreads them with his hands on your inner thighs, “don’t close them until I’m done. Understood?”
“Yeah”, you say, nodding your head. You are so exposed like this and you love it. Jungkook makes you feel so safe. And needy enough that the most comfortable position to be in, is having your legs spread open.
“Good girl”, he says and connects his right hand with your pussy. He rubs his fingers up and down your sensitive heat, parting your swollen lips this way.
You chase him instantly, letting out a soft moan. This is the kind of tenderness he normally shows.
“So soft and swollen for me”, he rasps, staring deep into your eyes, “can I feel up my good girl inside, mhm?”
“Please”, you beg, bucking your hips up.
“Thank you, babygirl. You’re making me so happy”, he says and massages your entrance with his two longest fingers. He inches closer, sliding his left hand to the back of your head. He grabs a bundle of your hair and uses it to gently tilt your head up.
“Koo”, you whimper, switching between staring into his eyes and gazing at his lips. You could kiss him if only he moved in a little bit more. Your heart is hammering in your chest, his touch becomes so much more intense.
“Who do you belong to, baby?” he rasps.
“Koo”, you moan, painting burning adoration onto his features.
“Yes baby, you do. You’re my perfect girl”, he praises and rewards you with his fingers.
The breach feels so intense that you move closer all on your own, seeking comfort by moaning his nickname against his lips and trying to suck on them afterwards. It doesn’t hurt, but it is difficult to handle being filled with him when he’s got you so deep in subspace. Being fingered is the most amazing, overwhelming reward he could give you. You feel so close to tears because of how good it makes you feel.
“Breathe baby, breathe”, he whispers, pumping them in and out of you slowly, “you’re so tight. Does it hurt?”
“No”, you squeak, closing your eyes, “it feels so good”, you whine desperately and let out a little sob, “Koo, please don’t stop, please p-please.”
“I’m not gonna stop, babygirl. I’m only just beginning”, he assures you and helps you lie back again with a guiding hand on the nape of your neck, “you know how fucking greedy I am. It’ll take a while till I’m done with you”, he adds and slides his thumb to your clit to rub circles on her.
You squeeze your eyes shut, arching your back.
“Thank you, Koo. Thank…you”, you get out and then you can’t possibly produce any more words. You have to make sounds. Whimpers, sighs, sobs and moans. This is all you can do. All you want to do. He makes you feel so good. His fingers are long and because he uses more than one, also girthy enough to truly fill you out. He knows just how to fuck them into you, knows where every one of your sensitive spots lies and knows exactly how to massage them to turn every second into a moment of mindblowing pleasure. This is the kind of fingering you couldn’t even do yourself. Only Jungkook can give it to you and you’re so perfectly happy to experience it right now.
“You’re taking me so well, princess”, he praises and leans in to pepper kisses along your jawline and neck. You roll your head to the side, allowing him better access. It feels so good. You can’t say more about how he makes you feel other than that it feels so good. He keeps a steady rhythm with his fingers and his lips are so soft against your skin. You can also feel the little breaths he releases and the honest moans he makes. It tickles so nicely, making you even more sensitive to him.
“Mhm princess”, he purrs, tugging at the strap of your bra with his teeth, “I know you wanna show off your new piece, but can I take it off? Wanna lick your pretty nipples.”
“Please”, you beg, arching your back.
“Thank you, princess. I swear it’s driving me crazy”, he says and begins to work. He has to slip his fingers out, but makes up for it by offering his thigh for you to grind against. You moan, getting lost in the sensation. You writhe and squirm just so you can fuck yourself on his hard thigh all while Jungkook works on getting your bra off. He needs to unhook the handcuff chain for it, but works so skillfully that you barely even notice. Just as you don’t notice that he ties your hands in the front this time around until he drags your arms up by the chain.
You peel your eyes open, meeting his eyes. They are dark in pleasure, his brows are tugged tight giving him such a masculine dominance. You spill wet desperation on his thigh, squeezing your legs around it.
“Koo”, you whimper, stretching your arms further above your head.
“Keep them there until I’m done with you. Understood?”
“Yes, Koo.”
“Good girl. Now tell me how you feel.”
“Green”, you whimper, throbbing on his thigh.
“Good girl, she remembers the system”, he says and pushes your legs apart again. He slips his soaked thigh from your pussy, replacing this pleasure with the pleasure his fingers give you by slipping his longest two back into your pussy. He presses his thumb against your clit and begins finger fucking you deeply and a lot quicker than he did the first time.
“Koo, ah”, you moan, dropping your head deep into the pillows as your legs begin to shake. You know that those shakes will only grow from now on.
“That’s my good girl. You got so wet on my thigh, it has me wanting to act up”, he rasps and drops his left hand over your wrists to pin them into place. Now pinned down, naked and with your pussy squeezing his tattooed fingers, Jungkook finally pays attention to your tits. He would go gentle on other days. Massage you first, give you kisses on your tender flesh before thinking of your nipples. Not tonight. He needs to have them in your mouth. Now.
Jungkook begins with your left nipple, takes it between his lips to lick and sucks it greedily. The pleasure is hot. You swear you can feel the path it takes as it goes straight to your pussy.
You writhe under him, fucking yourself on his fingers as he forces the neediest moans out of you. Jungkook only stops sucking on your left nipple when he can taste how sensitive he’s got you. You get all unbearably hot on his tongue when that happens. He leaves a sloppy trail of spit on your nipple and shifts his attention to your right nipple. He takes it between his lips and begins the eager feast anew.
He moans, furrowing his brows. It feels so much smaller in comparison to your left nipple. Fuck, he’s got you so swollen. Jungkook increases the pressure around your wrist and fucks his fingers deeper. His palm presses against your clit, his fingers reach your deeper spots. Judging by how you are gasping for air and moaning brokenly, he’s hit the jackpot.
You squirm under him, your legs shake, your arms desperately try to break free. You feel so broken. He’s going to make you cum again and it’s going to feel so hot.
“Koo, Koo, Koo pl-lease”, you get out, moaning desperately.
Jungkook lifts his puffy lips from your nipple just to see how he ruins you.
“Koo, aah”, you drag out your moan, feeling yourself fall when Jungkook moans right with you, nodding his head as if to tell you that it was okay for you to break.
Your eyes go out of focus and roll back, closing just in sync with your orgasm hitting you. You are moaning so much and Jungkook doesn’t make it easier by moaning right with you.
“Yes babygirl, yes there we go”, he moans, fucking his fingers into you quickly, “fucking cum for me, aah yes, baby.”
Your voice cuts off with a gasp, you arch your back and feel what he does to you. He is pressing down on where it feels the best. It happens if you want to or not. You squirt on his fingers, soiling the sheets and his thigh with it.
“Yes babygirl, don’t hold back. That’s my babygirl, squirt for me”, he encourages you, helping you through the orgasm with expert touches.
Something shifts inside you. Something primal and insatiable. He’s such a good Dom right now. He’s got you ruined, squirting and so deep in safe subspace that you can’t really regulate what comes out of your mouth next.
“Daddy please. Please, oh god please.”
Jungkook falters in his touches for a moment, “holy fuck, what did you just say?”
You have no idea what you just said because you’re not sane yet. But Jungkook knows. Jungkook heard it and he is losing his fucking mind.
“Holy fuck, yes”, he growls, frowning as if he was angry. But he wasn’t angry, he was just overtaken by fucking desire for you, “that’s right. You’re Daddy’s babygirl. Holy fuck, I’m gonna fucking ruin you”, he spits and drops into the sheets before you. He keeps you in place with his left hand pressed to your stomach, resulting in his long fingers to poke against your sensitive spots even better. And then, only then, he connects his mouth with your pussy to make the angriest love to it.
“Koo!” you scream, twisting his hair instantly.
He didn’t even properly let you finish squirting and he is already stimulating your clit again. You tense up and feel another wave coming over you. You try to warn him, but he just fucks his fingers deeper and opens his mouth wider. So you are destined to empty yourself all over his face, sobbing his name because he makes you see fucking heaven and hell at the same time. Heaven because nothing feels better than Jungkook and hell because he is torturing you as if he hated you.
But he doesn’t hate you. He loves you. He is fucking obsessed with you. He breathes for you. And right now he is drinking from your sweet, sweet squirting pussy until you are empty and he fucking swallows every single droplet he can catch.
“Fuck baby”, he growls against you, twisting his fingers deeper, “say it again. One more time, please.”
“W-what?” you stutter.
“Daddy”, he growls and moans. Clarity comes back to you. You remember. You called him this word as he had you on the highest peak. You shudder and clench around him.
“Daddy”, you moan.
“Holy fuck”, Jungkook presses out and fucks the mattress, “babygirl”, he growls and connects his mouth back with your pussy.
“Ah, oh god Koo”, you squeak out, shaking uncontrollably, “it hurts, oh god ple-please.”
“Colour?”
“Green”, you sob, writhing on the sheets. They are so wet under you already and if Jungkook keeps this going, they’re going to get even wetter.
Jungkook growls and takes your clit between his lips again. Green means he can keep going. Green means you aren’t fucking done. Green means he is going to lick and finger you until he has you squirting again. Or pissing. Quite frankly, Jungkook doesn’t care about the difference. All he needs is for you to cum so fucking good that you wet yourself and feed him the sweetest liquid he ever tasted. He presses down on your tummy just so he can feel his own fingers rewrite your insides. Your stomach is so hard from all the tensing he is forcing you to do and Jungkook knows that the next one is going to be a good one. It has to be. You’re his good girl. You’re Daddy’s babygirl and if there is one thing he wants you to experience, it’s good fucking orgasms.
He didn’t even plan on eating you out again. He wanted to make you cum on his fingers and then take you missionary, but you twisted something in him. It’s not like he craved for you to call him like that, but rather that hearing this word from you shifted something inside him. He didn’t even know that he needed it until it left your lips and now he is going crazy. He needs you to orgasm one more time before he fills you with his cock. Jungkook curls his fingers in sync with his wet, sloppy tongue grinding against your clit.
“I have to cum, please”, you beg him, tugging at his hair because you know for a fact that you won’t be able to control yourself, “pl-please slow I- ah!”
Jungkook hears your begs and decides to use them as motivation. He knows that you are close and that you are currently trying to hold back in order not to squirt all over his face. He also knows that you’ve been married to him long enough that you are aware that he loves it when you do. So all this begging is just for show.
He fucks his fingers into you roughly, filling the air with the lewdest, wettest sounds.
“I’m sorry”, you sob and then it happens. Jungkook forces you to orgasm and with it, cover his face with your wetness. You twist his hair desperately, writhing in hot pleasure, “I’m sorry, I can’t stop it, ah!”
Jungkook growls, fucking the mattress angrily. This is it. This is his personal religion. The reason he fucking exists and the proof why he deserves such a title. He drinks you up until you have to pull him away from you.
“Please stop”, you beg him, dropping into the pillows while your body flinches as it recovers, “oh god. Ah fu-fuck.”
Jungkook slips his fingers out and kisses a path up your body. He doesn’t even care that he is leaving wet trails all over your skin, neither do you.
His hands cradle you, running along your sides until he can touch your upper back. 
“Breathe for me”, he orders you and sucks on your jawline, “breathe baby, breathe.”
You breathe just like he tells you to do. It makes the recovering a little easier. Especially because Jungkook holds you so close and kisses you. You are disoriented and dizzy, but it doesn’t feel uncomfortable because you’ve got Jungkook keeping you safe. 
“There we go, breathe.”
You inhale and exhale, letting out a trembling whimper while your handcuffed hands reach for him. You manage to brush them over his neck and chest before you grow too weak and drop them again.
“Good girl. Colour?”
“Green”, you whimper.
“That’s good. I’m not done with you”, he whispers against your jaw and kisses his way up to your neck, “Daddy’s not done with his babygirl”, he rasps and chuckles deeply, “holy fuck, you did something to me with this. Holy fuck, I’m insane for you.”
You gulp repeatedly as you try to recover from what he just did to you. You want to say something, but all you can get out is “angmh” and then your voice forsakes you.
“I know, babygirl. But I’m still not done with you. I’m so fucking greedy for more”, he tells you and caresses your cheek, “you’re gonna take my cock and cum one more time. Understood?”
“Mhmgm”, you let out, writhing on the sheets weakly.
“Look at me.”
You obey even if opening your eyes feels impossible at first. You moan, arching your back at the sight of him. He is wet and dripping from your orgasms, staring at you with dark eyes and a tight jaw.
“Are we understood?” he insists in a deep voice, shaking your head gently.
You nod your head.
“Speak up.”
“Yes”, you whimper and reach for his face, “Koo please.”
He gives you a soft smile and kisses your palm.
“Good girl”, he praises, then takes your wrists to open the chain again. He drags you into a sitting position, “turn around.”
You obey, allowing him to close the cuffs on your back again.
“Lie down on your tummy.”
You obey.
He lets you rest for a second, but judging by the noises, he is taking off his briefs and lubing up his cock. He nudges your legs apart with his knee and connects his lubed fingers with your pussy.
“You’re such a good girl for preparing lube”, he praises and fills you with two fingers to test how sensitive you are.
You writhe and squirm, but don’t seem to be in pain.
“Koo please”, you beg, clenching around his fingers. He takes them away from you, but makes up for it by rubbing his cock against your entrance. You squirm, trying to feel for him but Jungkook drags your hands away by the chain.
“Behave”, he warns and pushes inside.
“Ah”, you let out, squeezing your eyes shut as his cock fills you up. The stretch is intense in the best way possible. It doesn’t hurt, but Jungkook got you so deep in the mindspace of total submission that it feels sacrilegious to finally have his cock. Something missing finally returned and it’s leaving you breathless.
“Fuck baby, so tight”, he growls, furrowing his brows, “how are you doing? Hurts?”
“No”, you whimper, “no, please don’t stop.”
“I won’t. Daddy’s so greedy for your pussy”, he says and bottoms out, “fuck”, he moans, dropping his head as his strong fingers dimple your ass, “breathe baby, you’re tightening.”
“It feels so good”, you whimper, “I can’t help it. I’m Daddy’s cock slut”, you get out and sob needily, fucking back onto his cock.
“You’re driving me insane, holy shit”, Jungkook presses out through gritted teeth and meets you movement until he has you fucked back into obedience. It takes embarrassingly little time for you to stop pushing back to instead lie on the mattress and take him with needy moans.
Not that Jungkook minded you fucking your tight pussy on his cock, but he needs you to understand that tonight he is controlling the scene. That every second of pleasure you receive is because he wants it to happen exactly how it happens. And that means that he will make you squirt on his face as often as he wants to and it means that he will fuck your sweet, little pussy until he’s either spend or you genuinely can’t anymore. There is no in between, he will only stop once one of you is too ruined to keep going.
“That’s better. I want you obedient tonight, okay?”
“Yeah…” you keen and spill tears, “Koo, please don’t stop, please.” 
“Mhhhm so sweet…. my baby’s so sweet. Fuuck.”
Jungkook presses your legs together with his strong thighs and begins moving out of his hips. He is resting on top of your thighs, caging them in and feeling them shake each time he bottoms out. You moan so sweetly, presenting your pussy to him as he fills it with his cock. He can watch it shift and change as he fills you up. His cock gets wetter each time he pulls out again.
“You look so fucking pretty like this”, he rasps, pushing your hands aside so he could grab your ass and spread it apart. You tighten around him, Jungkook feels it and you feel it too.
“Koo! Ah, ah, ha”, you squeak out your moans, spilling tears of pleasure on the sheets. His cock goes so deep. Your hole is so tiny in this position. You don’t want him to stop. He is rubbing against you so good that you swear you could orgasm just from getting your pussy fucked. No stimulation of your clit or sensitive spots needed, all you need is the sensation of Jungkook’s veiny cock fucking past those first few inches of your wet pussy.
“Yeah keep moaning baby, keep fucking moaning for me”, he encourages you while his pleasure darkened eyes run over your body. There is a reason why he needs to part your ass. It exposes his two favourite holes to fuck. Your pussy, so so wet and stuffed with cock and your ass so so empty and slickened from all your orgasms. Jungkook growls deeply and develops such unbearable anger at your pretty hole for driving him so fucking mad that he has to spit on it.
“Ah!” you flinch and clench around nothing. His spit feels burning hot on your hole. Jungkook massages it into you with rough circles, basking in how much squirmier you get under him.
“Fuck, I’m going insane. Holy fuck”, he moans and picks up the lube. He opens it with his teeth and flips it just to squirt some all over your ass. He throws the opened bottle aside afterwards, rolling his hips deeper into you.
“Koo…what….is that?” you get out.
“Just something to make it slippery”, he rasps and begins spreading the lube all over your ass and lower back, “want you fucking wet and sticky, babygirl”, he says and rubs his wet fingers up and down your hole while his hips pick up speed.
To think that he is covering you in lube for the sole purpose of making you messy and to know that he gets pleasure out of the view, ruins you.
“Koo, Da-”, you manage to get out and then your body betrays you as you lose every sense of control.
“Argh fuck”, Jungkook spits angrily, scrunching his face as your orgasm not only surprises you but him as well, “holy fuck”, he laughs and drops his head, “you’re cumming again? Holy fuck baby, you’re such a good girl. Yeah, you keep shaking for me.”
You do exactly that. You shake for him. Cum for him. Cry for him. While he fucks you through it in the stickiest, hottest pronebone you ever found yourselves in.
He isn’t finished with you afterwards. He lets you know with a growl and his cock pulling out not for the purpose of stopping, but so he could pull you onto all fours. He twists the chain of the handcuffs between his tattooed fingers and rubs his cock between your buttocks. The lube makes it easy to do so. Despite how ruined he has you, you arch your back just so you can present yourself to him better. Jungkook lingers on your hole, rubbing his cockhead against it.
“You’re shaking so much. How pretty”, he taunts, giving your hole repeated spanks with his cock. 
“Koo”, is all you manage to get out. There are no other words in your brain right now. Only his title. You feel so fucked. Ruined. Broken. And you don’t want this to end yet. 
“Green?”
You nod your head, arching your back to get closer to him. 
“Mhhhm”, Jungkook purrs deeply and stops his spanks to instead rub his cock against your hole again, “you have no work tomorrow, do you?”
“No?” you get out.
“Good, means I have time to prepare you. I wanna fuck your ass tomorrow”, he says and applies just enough pressure that you feel a stretch without him slipping inside.
“A-ah”, you moan, curling your toes.
“Not tonight though, need to cream my babygirl’s pussy with my cum”, he says and fucks his cock into your pussy in one maddening stroke.
You whimper, feeling your knees buckle. Jungkook pulls you back onto him by your handcuffs, keeping you upright this way. It’s difficult to hold on. His fingers are so slippery from all the lube play he’s been doing. He still holds on, looking at how tied up and helpless he’s got you and loving every second of it. Your pussy is so wet and hot, squeezing his swollen cock and reminding him why he is so fucking obsessed with you. Why sex with you won’t ever get boring, even after all those years together.
“Koo”, you whimper, spilling tears on the sheets.
“Not long anymore. My cock’s so fucking sensitive for you, I’m close”, he encourages you, rolling his hips into you in slow strokes.
“Harder please”, you beg.
“Fuck”, he spits and speeds up instantly. He grips your hip with his slippery hand and twists the chains to the point where he tugs you off the mattress and you hang on by nothing but the cuffs. Like this, Jungkook watches your tits bounce, increasing his speed to the point where his heavy balls slap against your clit repeatedly. He can go so deep this way and he’s fucked you well enough that your pussy’s shaped for no one but him. You can fit him. From his sensitive tip all the way down to his girthy base. If he could, he would go even further, reminding your insides who owns them with animalistic thrusts.
“Fuck baby”, he is growling through gritted teeth, dimpling your hip, “you’re making me fucking angry. Ha!” he laughs squeakily, contorting his face in pleasure, “you feel so good. Holy shit. How is it for you?”
“Go-goo-good”, you he fucks the word out of you and fucks moans out of you right afterwards. They are squeaky and sound not at all like you. But Jungkook knows you and he knows that this is how you sound when you’ve hit the peak of pleasure. This is the rawest, most honest version you will ever show and only he gets to experience it.
“Yeah? It’s good?” he is panting, dripping sweat. He is fucking so goddamn hard and it’s stealing his strength. You keep clenching around him, his knees are so wobbly because of you, but he fucks through the weakness. You want it hard and if there is one thing he’s good at, it’s fucking you hard.
“Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!” you chant, writhing in his strong hold. His body is colliding with yours each time he bottoms out. The impact feels punishing and like ecstasy.
“Yeah urgh”, he growls, throwing his head back, “I have to cum soon. It’s too good.”
“Soon, ple-please”, you beg, clenching around him desperately. He will make you cum one more time. Then every single orgasm you could experience will have shook your body. You need it. You need it so bad. The thought that tomorrow you will experience how good he can make you cum with your ass as well, pushes you closer to the edge stroke by fucking stroke.
“Fuck, you’re torturing me”, Jungkook growls and buries his cock deep inside to paint patterns on your a-spot, “like that? Mhm, is Daddy fucking you how you need it?”
“Yes! Oh god”, your voice switches from squeaks to animalistic growls, “holy fuck, you’re making me cum”, you growl and convulse in the most uncontrollable and honest way possible, “Koo, Daddy…. fuuuck”, you moan deeply as your orgasm burns you from the inside out.
“___”, Jungkook moans and throws his head back. There is a lot he can handle, but what he can’t do is listen to you growl like that. It throws him over the edge instantly, forcing his hips to still because he cums so fucking hard that he sees black for a few seconds. You drop onto the sheets because his grip loosened around the handcuffs. It forces Jungkook to fall over. His sticky hand grips the back of your head, keeping you down as he pumps you full of cum and growls into your ear.
Three, two, one.
Jungkook whimpers and begins moaning squeakily, hugging you against his chest as he drags out his orgasm with slow rolls of his hips.
You collapse with the sheets. Jungkook follows, putting almost all of his weight on you as his twitchy hips fuck his cock into you. He doesn’t want his orgasm to stop. Not yet.
“You feel so good, oh god”, he whimpers, hugging you tightly as he tries to at least shift some of his weight onto his elbow, “please clench for me, please.”
You obey even if your energy is at a dangerously low level. You know that once Jungkook satisfied his needs, you won’t be able to go again. You are fucking spend.
“Thank you, ah baby”, he mewls and lets out a soft sob, “I love you so much. Oh god, again.”
Yes he is sensitive. Yes he will make it your problem. Yes he is going to fill you up until you can’t hold it in anymore.
And yes you love it, moaning with him as Jungkook brings himself over the edge a second time.
“I love you, I love you, I love you”, he chants.
“I love you too, Koo I love you too”, you answer him each time he does, healing with each confession of love you exchange.
Jungkook pulls out after his high dies down, fucking his still hard cock between your thighs so he could grow soft there. You are so wet and hot there, giving him the kind of pressure he currently needs. And as he feels your closeness a little longer with the help of your thighs, he begins kissing the side of your face. He brushes aside whatever strands of hair stuck to your face as he fucked you into a state of ruin and then it is already time for him to litter every inch he can reach with his love.
“Good job, my good girl. Holy fuck, good job”, he praises in a trembling voice, “you did so well. I love you so much. Good job, babygirl, good job.”
You enjoy his affection with a racing heart and a dizzy head. You can feel him throb between your legs while his warm cum slowly seeps out of you. His chest is wet and sticky and you can feel his heart racing. This is such a healing state to be in.
“Good job”, he whispers and exhales shakily, “shit, I’m ruined. How are you feeling?” he asks.
“Ruined too”, you murmur.
Jungkook shifts on top of you a little, propping himself up on his elbow so he could look at your face. You peel your eyes open, meeting his gaze. He looks as ruined as you feel.
“Are you in pain? I know I went at you quite hard”, he asks, caressing your cheek.
You shake your head, “it’s not uncomfortable.”
“So you’re in pain. Baby, I’m sor-”
“It’s not uncomfortable”, you interrupt him, “I’m just ruined, but I like it”, you assure him and give him a droopy smile, “also I’m having a uterus cramp ‘cause you made me cum too many times. Imma be sore tomorrow.”
Jungkook smiles awkwardly, “but you’re okay, yeah?”
You nod your head, “I’m okay. You’re the best fucking hubby ever.”
Jungkook finally smiles honestly, snuggling into you. He kisses the bridge of your nose, pressing his lips against your forehead as he talks.
“No, you are the best wifey. You took me so well”, he whispers.
“I had so much fun”, you say, “thank you for ruining me.”
He snickers, “you’re saying stuff”, he murmurs and hums almost cutely. He kisses your forehead, “also, can we talk about what you called me?”
“Yeah, I didn’t think I needed this, but I did.”
“Yeah, same. My heart’s fucking pounding.”
“I can feel that.”
You and he giggle together. He snuggles closer, kissing your forehead repeatedly.
“You can definitely keep surprising me with it when you feel like it”, he says.
“Dearly noted”, you say and snicker, “wow, I’m actually done for. How the fuck are you always doing this?”
“It’s ‘cause I’m basically insane”, he jokes, making you laugh.
“Kook stop, don’t make me laugh” you whine, trying to clench.
“Why?” he laughs.
“Cause I’m leaking.”
“Baby, it’s a little too late to worry about your sheets”, he says, cracking you up again and therefore forcing more of his cum to drip out of you.
“You’re the worst, it’s happening again”, you whine as you laugh.
He cackles, wiggling on top of you as happiness overtakes him.
“You’re so cute, oh god”, he squeaks and squishes his cheek against yours as he hugs you tightly, “my booboo bebe baba baby”, he coos, rubbing his cheek against yours.
You giggle squeakily, enjoying his snuggles with a scrunched nose and crinkled eyes.
He lifts his head again, wiping his thumb under your eyes gently. You grin up at him, feeling goofily much in love with him.
“Your makeup’s ruined. It’s so smudged.”
“I know. I cried so much.”
“Hot. Mhhm baby”, he moves in for a soft cheek bite, “you’re so sexy, babygirl. You’re making me crazy.”
“Whatever doofus”, you murmur and huff out air, “god, I’m leaking again“, you whine, making him laugh.
“Wait, let me quickly untie you and then you can go to the toilet”, he says and sits up so he can undo the handcuffs.
He crawls off of you and watches you roll to your back. You make grabby hands at him and so he lowers himself until you can pull him into a hug. Your limbs tangle with each other, but you make it work because you hugged each other a million times before.
“I’m too dead to walk. I’ll go later”, you mumble into him, “I wanna cuddle.”
Jungkook melts with you. His thigh is between your legs. Your head is resting on his upper arm as you snuggle your face into his chest.
“Cuddling sounds perfect”, he says and sighs happily when you drape your leg over his hips just to get even closer, “you’re leaking more like this, you know?”
“Yeah, but you’re right. We’re already dirty as fuck”, you snicker, “the lube play was hot, by the way.”
“Mhm yeah and when you squirted on my face. Twice. Phew”, he exhales deeply, “that was hot.”
You snicker, feeling your heart race. Jungkook snickers as well, pulling you closer. Your arms know exactly where to lie so you and he can be as close as possible. You can fuck as hard and long as you want to and it will be okay in the end, because you know exactly how to cuddle to recover in the most comforting of ways.
“Did you actually mean it when you said you’ll fuck my ass tomorrow?” you ask him.
“Okay, first of all in my defense I was really horny and my whore side most definitely came out there”, he says, making you laugh. He speaks his next word with laughter on his lips, “but if you’re actually down, then I wouldn’t say no.”
“Mhm, I’d be down too”, you say, snuggling into him with a kiss to his sweaty chest, “you’re cute, you know? You always say the dirtiest things when we fuck and then you’re acting all cute about them afterwards.”
“Says the person who called me Daddy outta nowhere”, he defends himself, ripping yet another round of laughter out of you.
Jungkook laughs with you, holding you oh so close.
And so you and he find yourselves recovering from the intense sex with laughter and cuddles. You and he will continue talking about every single detail of this evening and you will do so with giggles and fluttering hearts. Later, you will both go to the toilet and then take a shower together to wash off the mess you made. Needless to say the night will end with cuddles and giggles in bed, with good conversation and too many inside jokes cracking the both of you up over and over again until you fall asleep with smiles on your lips.
Yeah, date night is definitely amazing.
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trafltr · 1 year
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i’m your national anthem | eren jaeger
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the note ☆ this is part two of my lana coded!eren ‘series’, see part one here. once again my soft spoken and older eren (drooling) spoiling his lovely little wife with everything he can but this time it’s at his place of work after she pays him a visit. it’s not as “cinematic” as the first part but i like this one a lot and it’s a birthday gift for myself lmao. inspired by national anthem (demo), lana del rey.
contains ☆ nsfw, fem!reader, stupidlyrich!eren, soft husband!eren, established relationship, semi-public sex (there are cameras), office sex, eren in a yummy suit, lotta praise, oral (m. receiving), handjobs, facefucking, vaginal, sex on a desk, backshots, unprotected sex, creampie, size kink, panty stealing (kind of), possessive eren, he likes you in a sundress, use of pet names. black reader as always but it’s all subjective so read if you like it my loves <3
wc ☆ 4k words (it was meant to be much shorter lmao)
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eren jaeger is a successful man.
many would even stretch out as to say that he's almost won in life. he's made it on the forbes list, attended every exclusive gathering to be thrown in society, racked up hundreds of thousands of dollars in his chequing account; he's a well deserved ceo��not from start up connections, not from nepotism—eren jaeger has worked his way to the top from down below. and while he's considered to have everything a mortal man could ever dream of, eren believes his true fortune lies within you.
"mr. jaeger?" a timid voice calls from the entryway to the conference room, where a suit clad eren stands at the table's apex, which holds a stack of printed papers, with two other shareholders seated at the sides listening in on his presentation.
another thing about eren is that he likes rules—he has rules. there are rules employees know not to break; no bribes, no in house disputes, and certainly no entering his boardroom when having a meeting with his shareholders without his request. so when one of his brightest interns shifts uncomfortably under his gaze with a look of fear morphing his facial features, eren knows he’s been asked to do so by someone with more power than even him.
"i take it that my wife is here?" eren breathes, mindlessly running a hand through messy growing hair but still refusing to acknowledge the fact that you came at such an inconvenient time. "could she wait for another twenty minutes? we've almost concluded the contracts."
the sorry smile given by the intern is enough of an answer for him, "i don't think it would be appropriate for me to repeat the words she said, but she didn't give off the impression of wanting to wait long, sir."
so…spoiled.
he could already imagine how you would be waiting there; making yourself comfortable up on his desk, legs dangling in your four inch heels and tapping your nails against the glass whilst admiring the photo of the two of you on your honeymoon situated at the desks edge. of course, you would be doing this all with a small pout on your face, ready for you scold him for how long it's taken him to head back to you.
nursing an apologetic smile, he glances towards the man and woman on each side as if silently asking to resume this another time. they wave him off with small laughter, going on about keeping you happy and all the unimportant other things; eren's too preoccupied with going to see you to register their words.
he's quick making his way to the elevator, but not before swiping a single champagne coloured rose from a vase nearby; eren knows he can't show up empty handed, not with you. it's not irregular for you to come to his work so unannounced; at a random time on any given day. you strut around the office like it's yours, you make friends with the secretaries and listen to office gossip like you're one of them, and you tell his assistant all about the plans the two of you have like he doesn't already know. at this point his employees hold you in higher regard than they do him.
it's expected though; seeing how you have their boss contorted around your pretty finger.
your face lights up from it's bored expression when you hear the elevator chime. it takes four of eren's long strides to reach his office doors, and he opens it to a carbon copy of what he'd imagined only minutes ago.
"'ren!" smiling at his tall frame, you open up your arms for him to take. the smell of his rosewood cologne pronounces itself through the hug, which shortly turns into intertwined lips. "missed you." you mutter against his now gloss stained mouth, taking hold of his stubbled chin with long nails to deepen your kiss.
"i missed you too baby, got you this," he mumbles, handing you the flower before steadying his hands on both your sides, essentially baring you to his warm body, "how was your hair appointment?"
"thank you," you soften, casually dipping your nose into the welts of the rose to take in it's scent before continuing, "it was good, didn't take as long as i thought so i wanted to come say hi!" your eyes dilate to black expanses as you properly take him in. eren left early today, so you couldn't get a glimpse of him leaving the house. but seeing him now, with his hair pulled up into it's signature messy ponytail and the blue armani suit you told him buy—you could quite literally drool.
"it looks good." he takes a piece of your hair before leaving it alone. "and your dress looks real pretty on you."
grinning at his words, you shimmy out of his hold; intentionally ignoring the way his eyes follow the dips, curves and pudge highlighted by the sundress you wear. "so, i thought we could eat some food together."
for the first time since entering the room, his eyes shift from you over to the wicker basket on the nearby sofa.
you're sitting on his lap as he rests in his chair, putting some radish on the cucumber roll before feeding it to your husband, "hope i didn't pull you from anything..."
ah…
eren is a calculated man; he doesn't act irrationally. instead, he thinks—thinks for just a few seconds of possible outcomes depending on what he does. but with you? there's no need for that; you probably knew there was a high chance of him being in a meeting, if you weren't already told that by his assistant—so, as always, he chooses the answer that'll ultimately keep you happy.
"hm? nope, nothing important enough."
"oh, mkay." you nod, taking a mini donut from its cute package and popping it into your mouth. after dusting off your hands, you fiddle with the strands of hair that frame his face, “you coming home early today? we can watch that movie i was talking about—and i’ve been dying to get to properly use the theater with you.”
“let me think about it, princess—but i’ll try.” he sports a boyish smile, accepting the water bottle you hand him before watching you clean up the empty trays and takeout boxes. his words are most definitely for show, that man will be home by six instead of eight—hell, make it five.
perhaps eren jaeger truly has won at life; god…you look alluring, walking around his space with your heels like the place is your own, fragrancing the room with the scent of your lotion mixed with the perfume he gifted you. his wandering eye is fixed to your legs, catching how your dress rides up with every step taken.
“can feel you starin’ at me.” you tease in a sing-song voice, wiggling your hips as you bend down to pick up fallen trash.
“good.” his long legs aid him in striding towards your frame, large hands come to rest on your hips from behind. his thumbs begin to rub soft circles on them as he plants a kiss on your forehead, “did my employees see you in this?”
“duh—i had to see them to see you,” you laugh. 
you know damn well what this is about, and you find it amusing. for the most part, your husband is a calm man; slow to anger, leans towards calmly solving disputes as opposed to growing aggressive, and when he gets agitated, he takes a break. but at the mere mention of his wife, eren seems to abandon all sensical thoughts of zen he once had. 
“any of ‘em stare?” 
“dunno.” you respond with a shrug and turn to face eren, smoothing down the collars of his outfit with your hands, “i don’t pay attention to any of them. they’re not you.”
“okay.” he makes his way back to his seat, gesturing to you to follow along. “i really do mean it when i say you look nice in that dress—well, i always mean it but…”
you’re giggling, standing in between his spread legs while looking down at him, “thanks ‘ren.”
“mhm, i’m the luckiest man in the world.”
oh…he has that tone in his voice again; the rasped one that has your legs pressing together when he speaks. it’s the kind that happens when he gets a lustful glint in his eyes—when he wants to fuck you. his hands wander up the fabric of your dress, the feeling of his cold wedding band makes you gasp and steady your hands onto his shoulders for support.
“h-hold on.”
“something wrong?” he stills, “if it’s the cameras, i’ll get the footage removed—or maybe you want me to get a copy of it?”
“nothing’s wrong.” you shake your head, but make a mental note to ask him to indeed grab a copy before deleting it, “just want you to relax for a moment—i know i took you out of that meeting.” you speak as slowly and your fingers move down his arms, keeping his eye contact as you lower your knees to the ground. “‘m sorry love, i wanted to see you for a bit.”
why are you apologizing? there’s no need for you to, there’s never been a need for you to, and eren doesn’t think he would ever make you either. 
“let me make it up to you.” 
you don’t let him get much of a word out before you’re unzipping his slacks and palming the prominent bulge that greets your eyes. his body shows it’s gratitude by sinking into your ghostly touch. eren can only breath in sharp inhales as you free his dick from it’s confinement, straightening itself out as translucent pre stumbles from the tip. you shouldn’t be shy but eren is big in every sense. and your brain seems to struggle with object permanence; eyes almost blowing open in surprise of how thick he is despite you practically owning it. the phantom ache in your jaw seems to be a warning—you shouldn’t try anything.
but eren’s presence alone overrides all alarms and commands in your brain, and the hazy look he gives you from his seat has you subconsciously wrapping your hand around his base, shifting across the length and tracing the roads and ridges of his veins with your tongue. 
he sucks his teeth when you pucker your lips at the slightly pinkish tip, feathering a little kiss before letting spit fall from your mouth and onto his cock. the dribble doesn’t make it past the head before you’re meeting it with your lips, steadily taking him into your stretched walls. the feeling of the burn from your mouth molding in indecent ways would make you wince if not for the effects eren’s soft groans and breaths have on your cloudy mind.
“such a pretty sight. p-pretty fuckin’ view.” a sigh escapes him when you hollow your cheeks. admittedly, it’s nothing like the home he knows your cunt as, but when you bottom out and his tip punches the back of your throat, it seems like the closest thing. it surely is a sight to see: a sweet woman like you, doing something so damn nasty.
your throat tightens with each bob, trying its best to prevent a gag but failing every now and then. still, you plant a hand on his knee for stability to lessen the slight burn in your knees given by the nylon carpet beneath them, and allow the mixture of precum and saliva escape your mouth and dribble everywhere. 
“oh, fuck—yeah, you got it.” he’s amazed, seeing you take him like a fucking champion, choking all over him without a single complaint. “that’s my girl.”
despite going nice and slow, you get messy—his dick fucks up your sensory system. glittery tears breach your water line, threatening to drop and roll as you sniffle away. 
eren is pulled out of his trance when your mouth escapes him, watching you with a slight furrow in his brow. you gaze at him through your pretty lash extensions, tongue unfurling out for you to tap him on. “tastes so good eren.”
“shit—don’t say that to me.” his whimpers are loud, as loud as his heaves for the same air that seems to avoid him. conscious of the chance that sound could somehow transfer, he drapes his hand across the lower half of his face and captures the guttural groan from his chest.
“you don’t need to be quiet,” your hand grabs hold of his own, carefully guiding it from his mouth to the back of your head. silently, you watch him with admirable and expectant eyes that could make him cum from the sight alone, “don’t you own this place?”
my god… you want him to face fuck you, you’re outwardly asking him to do so without a drop of shame. right until your makeup is ruined and a crying mess from how full your mouth is. he doesn’t do it often—he’s too scared of watching you cough up spit and develop a sore throat the next day for it to happen regularly. besides, eren is a pleaser—very rarely did he have you like this unless you openly wanted it. but with the look of expectation you have, sniffling and pleading for him to help you like a dutiful husband he promised to be, it’s difficult to him to do anything other than comply.
eren wants to give you a standing ovation watching you submissively relax in his tender hold. with eyes full of love, he steadily lines you up with his tip, counting you to three before guiding you down the length of his cock. your husband starts off slow, keeping a nice pace that makes it easy to inhale enough to go back down. but like all things, it grows—grows faster. hands tangle in your hair, driving your head down to meet him halfway; you gag and choke and drool out the corners of your mouth, you dig and scratch with your nails, you savour quick inhales that are quickly consumed and leave you with even less air than before. 
the tip of your nose tickles the pubic hair at his pelvis as he holds your head steady at his base. the cut off of circulation has your eyes going spotty, but the lightheadedness just feels so so so good.
upon seeing the twitch in his brow and the rapid rise and fall of his chest, your breath hitches—he’s going to cum if you continue. whatever words you attempt to speak translates to vibration that makes his dick jump, so twice, you pat his arm. 
there’s a look of panic on his features, ignoring the mess left on his lower body and he releases you from his grasp. almost subconsciously, he pushes all traces of hair from your face, cupping you cheeks and forcing you to look at him, “did something happen? are you alright? was it too much—i’m sorry, love.”
“no.” you shake your head, moving from the position in front of him that made your knees ache and buckle. quietly, you turn your back to him, hazardly pressing your body into his desk while your hands tease up the back of your thighs, dragging the dress’s fabric along with it. “just want you to cum inside, it doesn’t feel as good when you don’t.”
symphonies ring through his head: eren is sure he’s won at life—and he’s going to be selfish with it. you’re his freedom—your pussy is his national anthem, not the fucking two minute song that rings monotonely in his mind after hearing it. he can’t rip his eyes away when your dress climbs up and over your ass; it exposes your thong and it’s  practically swallowed by the folds of your pussy, which leaves a damp spot right near its entrance. 
“oh, eren…” you sigh in relief at the feeling of your hand fumbling to pull your panties to the side for your husband to see just how wet you get on the mere thought of him. your fingers are met with no friction as you slowly rub your clit, nails clacking against each other and you spread the slick that coats your cunt. 
you pull away from yourself with a string connecting your fingers to your pussy, all before giving it a few love taps once more. “‘s all yours.”
it’s all his…what a fucking lucky man. your scent has commanding control over him, clinging to his body and moving him towards you like a puppeteer and he’s the woodwork. hands rounding over the fat of your ass, he makes quick work of pulling your thong off one leg and letting it pool at your ankle. he’s not afraid to admit it: eren jaeger will die for this pussy—his wife’s pussy.
he makes quick work of you, slotting his dick within your folds, fucking himself up against your clit a few times before convening at your hole. he sheaths himself inch by inch, reveling in the soul snatching grip you welcome him with. the pulsation of your spongy walls almost bites at him—cause a stuttered moan to fall from him as he bottoms out into you.
“fuck!” you squeal at the feeling of his tip budding up against your cervix. frantically, you try to inch forward to build some space between you two. 
“nuh-uh, no fucking running,” he sucks his teeth, digging his dull nails in your hips to keep you flush against his body, “take it whole, didn’t i teach you better than that?”
“mm—mhm!” baring your eyes shut, you allow your upper body to relax into the glass surface of the desk while he finds his rhythm. but you’re at a loss for words, mouth hanging open as he drags out to the hilt and buries himself back in until he’s trying to bypass your ass. his repeated strokes strikes against the soft spot at the roof of your cunt, “you’re going so fast.”
“am i—shit—am i supposed to go slow?” he asks knowingly, to which you frantically shake your head no to. had he gone any second slower, you’d be throwing a damn fit, whining about his talking too much time in teasing you and throwing yourself back into his hips instead. “yeah, that’s what i thought.”
each thrust drags out more of the milky white slick that forms a nasty ring around the base of his cock. “r-ren, you’re kissin’ me…” you whine, wiggling and writhing as you feel him reach your cervix—‘n it hurts, hurts real good and eren knows you don’t want him to stop. 
your sobs fog up the glass below, and with tear stained eyes you turn your head to look back at your husband. his pace falters when he locks your gaze—it’s hazy and pretty, your once neat waterline is now smudged against your lower eyelids, and your plump lips are in a pout to suppress what would be breathy moans to quick whimpers—all which reach his dick just the same. 
eren wastes no time grabbing a hold of your leg and hoisting it up to meet your torso on the table. the new angle gives him leeway to hit deeper—rub against his favourite spot that has you seeing stars.
“fuck, yeah—p-please eren.” you’re babbling incoherently, eyes gluing shut to give yourself some peace of mind as you shift your hips backwards to meet him halfway, “give it to me, jus’ like that!” 
oh, shit. 
your eagerness messes up his pace, making him curse at the feeling of his cock slipping out of you and instead slipping up against your neglected clit.
“c’mon…put it back in.” you’re whining, rubbing your cunt all over him like the neediest thing he’s ever seen—but you’re so molded to eren; there is undoubtedly nothing else in the world that makes you feel better than the way he does.
“calm down, be patient.” his voice is smooth—firm. it pulls you down into a sense of docility; security. it almost makes you forget how you’re being defiled on the desk where he earns a living so you can wear the pearls on your neck. “you’re so good to me.” he’s mumbling, fucking himself through your folds. 
you can hear the sounds of your juices mixing, and eren giving a low groan before bottoming back into your sweet pussy that welcomes him back like a man once at war.
“baby…gonna—i’m gonna cum.” you shake your head at the inevitable—you’re already whimpering and your legs are buckling under the pressurizing buildup in your bottom torso. 
and eren? he would never deny you of anything you wanted—in fact, he loves when you cum; your body goes rigid and develops an ironclad grip on him, and your mouth hangs open in the most obscene, yet pretty, way. so he encourages you, coaxes you on by keeping steady, hitting harder. 
“f-fuckfuckfuck—fuck!” when your hand shoots down to rub and fuss and your clit, you’re done for. 
eren’s strokes don’t stop when you do. instead, he lets you ride out your high right on his dick—and you…your walls are fluttering around him. uncontrolled sobs leave your mouth as you grip onto the table for some sort of stability, “that’s it.” 
“you feel good?” he asks, moving your leg from the tabling and bringing you up to meet his body. 
your mind is so gone, you can only mirror the words of your husband, “mhm—feels good.” 
his hands grab your waist, pulling you down into the chair with him. there’s little time for you to process your surroundings before eren’s got your back flush against him, arms hooked around the back of your legs, bringing them back towards your chest. 
“you can take a little more for me, right?” he huffs, blindly navigating himself back into your hole before receiving extra aid from your fucked out self. 
truth be told, you’d take anything for eren—even when you’re crying from the sheer overstimulation you feel as he sloppily bounces you on his cock. you can only pray he cums quick, all before you truly start to get messy in his place of work. 
“give it to me ‘ren.” moaning sweetly, your hands make their way to the nape of his neck and tug at the hair found in your fist, “c’mon—give me what i came here for.” 
and eren…he doesn’t like to keep you waiting. 
“fuck—you’re just the most spoiled thing aren’t you?” he moans—truly, he knows there is no one to blame but himself. and when you give him pussy this good, what else can he do?
your heeled feet clack together as eren fucks up into you with little regard for decency. his breathing is erratic, either heavy or almost laboured and still. your name is stuck on his lips—rolling around on his tongue like candy—he says it like a chant, rambling on about how only you can get him like this. shallow groans and grunts as he stills in your cunt—making sure you feel every rope of him by keeping you right on him despite your squirms.
“feel full?”
you scoff playfully, moving from your position once eren lets you, only to see a coy grin settling on his face. he’s not expecting an answer—especially when you return his smile while tugging your dress back down your legs. his eyes follow your movements, watching as you gather the picnic basket, keys to your pink porsche, and lace thong within your hands before making your way back to him.
slotting the underwear into the pocket of his blazer jacket, you whisper, “you’d better be home early, mr. jaeger.”
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A part of you, a part of me
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Summary: Joel’s been down this road before, he’s seen all the signs, and he knows before you ever do that you’re pregnant.
Warning: 18+ Minors DNI. Smut, unplanned pregnancy, crying, fluff, pre-outbreak Joel. Established relationship, cream pie, pet names, cussing, pregnancy tests, just a bunch of happiness because that’s all Joel deserves in this world. 💜😭
A/n: I can’t say Joel has a breeding kink… but I can certainly say he makes me have one 😌
Joel Miller Master List
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Joel remembers everything from Sarah’s mother’s pregnancy, all of the signs that lead up to them finding out. And surely enough it was beginning to show in you.
It started one autumn morning, when he woke up to find you nestled in beside him, face pressed into his chest, snoring slightly, hair in disarray. You were the picture perfect definition of someone getting the best sleep of their lives.
The only reason it concerned his was the fact that you never slept in past 6. You were always up before Joel, making breakfast for him and Sarah and more often than not Tommy, taking Sarah to school with a sweet kiss to his lips before you’d dash off to work yourself.
Brushing the hair from your face he whispers softly, “Honey?” You grumble something unintelligible, pulling a smile from him. “Honey it’s 7:20.” You’re slow to open your eyes, hazy and still leaded with sleep as they focus in on him, his dark hair sticking up around his head like every morning, “You okay?”
“M’ just really tired… think you can take over this morning?” You whisper, reaching up and cupping his cheek, the stubble of his beard scratching your palm.
“Of course baby. You need me to call work? Want a day to relax?” You smile at his concern, knowing he’s already gearing himself to go the extra mile to make sure you start to feel better.
“That would be really nice.” He kisses your lips gently before leaving you to sleep in, and you end up sleeping most of the day away.
Joel’s quick to notice that you start to get more tired as the days progress, usually a morning person you were now sluggish and downing two cups of coffee just to stay alert, you’d stay in bed a little longer and go to sleep a little earlier.
Initially he’d chalked it up to being stress at work, you were an associate for a designer company, making all the hotels and houses around here ‘fancy looking’ as he would say. It was a big, busy job that you were very passionate about.
But then came the emotions and cravings, not anger or frustration like Sarah’s mother, but you cried, and you cried a lot. The alarm bells should of gone off when he found you one night in the kitchen after everyone had gone to bed. You were sitting at the counter crying, no you had been sobbing, and Joel feared the worst until you blubbered out that you just really, really wanted ice cream.
Him finding you like that only embarrassed you more, adding to the water works as he dragged you in for a tight hug, smoothing his hands up and down your back.
“I-I think I’m just PMSing.” You hiccuped bashfully, hiding your face against his chest as he kissed the brown of your head.
“It’s okay, we will go get some tomorrow, it’s Saturday and we can take Sarah with us to the little parlor in town.”
Two months in to your sudden changes is when it all came to a head, he wasn’t being nosy, had actually just walked into the house about to announce himself when he heard you on the phone.
“I don’t know Jenny, works been stressful, I definitely haven’t been eating right and I just don’t have the energy to go to the gym like I use to. Hell even my periods plying hide and seek with me. I thought about making a doctors appointment-“
Whatever else you say is lost on him as he stops dead in his tracks, his muscles tensing and mouth drying up. He makes his legs move, taking him around the corner and into the kitchen. You don’t notice him at first, giving him the perfect opportunity to just look at you, to really look at you.
At the sake of sounding corny… You really were glowing, face a little rounder, body filling out in different ways, curves softening under your clothing. The changes were slight, not so prominent yet, but he can see it.
His heart speeds up, emotions rolling through him like the ocean in a storm.
You are pregnant.
Walking closer he catches your attention, making you crack a wide smile that has his knees going weak. “Hey, Jenny, Joel just got home I’ll talk to you later… love you too, bye.”
Setting the phone down, you go to stand but Joel’s in front of you, dropping to his knees and capturing your hips in his hands. You let out a startled yelp, hands coming to rest on his arms squeezing gently.
“As adventurous as I am, I don’t think the kitchen is t-.”
“We need to talk.” His serious expression extinguishes your excitement, panic flashing through you instantly.
“What’s wrong? Is Sarah okay? Tommy?”
“Yes, they are fine, we need… we need to talk about you.”
“Me? Honey I’m fine, what do you mean?” Nervous laughter bubbles up in your throat, mind racing in every possible direction this conversation could go.
Joel rolls his lips together, glancing to your stomach then back to you. Your face is contorted with confusion, your grip tightening on his arms. “When… how long has it been since you’re last period?”
You scoff at his question, eyes rolling slightly as your posture relaxes. “Baby I don’t know, I haven’t been tracking it like I usually do. Between Carol and Tray calling out of work I’ve been given both of their projects to present, that’s two on top of my other two. And -.” You roll your eyes, temper rising, “and get this, two of them are so within three hours of each other, now how in the world am I supposed to-.”
“Darlin’.” Joel cuts off your rambling, one large hand shifting to your softer stomach, rubbing slow circles as he watches the confusion melt into realization and then back to panic as your eyes drop to your stomach.
“N-no… no Joel we.. we always use condoms.”
He gives you a look that says you’re lying through your teeth, which you are, there has been a few times over the past couple of months, after you’ve both had one to many drinks where you’ll wake up in the morning, slick between your thighs.
Joel watches your face pale, body shaking in his grasp and he pulls you a little closer with the hand on your hip. “How long?”
Swallowing you finally look at his face, his eyebrows furrowed slightly, expression pinched with… worry? Upset? Is he scared? Your own fears rise eyes flicking between his and something in his chest cracks open at the look on your face.
“M-maybe two months… I-I really don’t k-know.”
He nods, rubbing slow circles into your stomach, already knowing but needing to be sure. “Let’s take a trip to the store okay?”
*~*~*~*~*~*
You’re both quiet sitting on Joel’s bed, two positive pregnancy tests laying in between you. You are fighting back tears, stiff and trembling, waiting on Joel to blow up.
You’ve only been dating for three years, kids have never been a topic of discussion seeing as Joel already has Sarah, he’s been through the baby phase. Then there’s the fact you don’t officially live with him, though you’re apartment in the city is only visited when you need to do laundry. Almost every moment of the day is in this house or at work… does that me this will change everything?
“I’m… I’m so sorry Joel.” You finally whisper, fat tears rolling down your cheeks.”
“What?”
“I should… I should of been on the pill, I should of been more careful… I didn’t mean to do this to you.” The absolute devastation in your voice makes Joel move, kneeling down in front of you like earlier, this time his hands are on your waist, thumbs stroking the sides of your changing belly.
“Don’t you dare talk like that, you didn’t do anything to me. Yes I’m scared, I’m scared shitless but fuck baby… I’m over the moon.” Your watery eyes dart to his and he’s smiling, joy shining in his soft drown eyes making something inside your body relax for the first time in hours. “Now… I know-I know we didn’t plan this but I mean… This is us. This right here.” He leans forward, pressing his lips to your stomach making you giggle breathlessly. “This is a part of me and a part of you that… God it’s so wonderful and you’re so wonderful and I love you so much, I love this so much.”
Tears brim his own beautiful eyes, hands gently squeezing your sides, curling into the fabric of your tank top as he searches your tear streaked face. “You my sweet girl, are going to be the most amazing mother.”
Whatever reservations, whatever doubts you were holding onto flood from your body with the shaky breath that escapes through your trembling lips, and without thought you lean down, capturing his lips in a kiss, one that pours every little emotion you don’t know how to communicate into him.
Joel stands, lips never leaving yours and pushes you back gently onto the bed, fitting himself between your legs as the kiss slowly turns hungry. You’re burning from the inside out, tears still escaping down your cheeks, as Joel settles himself over you, mindful of his weight.
“Shhh don’t cry honey.” He breaths, lips moving down to your jaw, working the skin with sloppy kisses.
You tilt your head back, body thrumming with sudden need. “H-happy tears.” You manage to squeak out, hands tugging at his t-shirt wantonly. “Joel… I want you, please I want you.” You beg, arching your back pressing your hips up against him searching for some form of friction.
“I know baby, just relax. I’ll take good care of you.” He mumbles against your throat, a hand finding your pajama shorts and tugging them down, exposing your bare cunt to the cold air. He sits back, pulling your shorts over your ankles with a low growl. “Fuck baby, you’re so wet for me already.” Joel swipes a fingers through your folds, gathering your juices and circling your clit.
You whine into the air, closing your eyes as another pulse of arousal shoots through you, heart hammering against your ribs. “Please… Don’t tease me please.” The tears now streaming down your cheeks are out of desperation, your hands finding his belt and yanking at the worn leather.
Joel only chuckles with a shake his head, helping you unbuckle the belt and open his jeans, shoving them down far enough for his cock to spring free. You groan at the sight, letting your legs fall further open as you grab a fist full of his t-shirt pulling him to you.
“Need my cock that bad baby? Can’t wait any longer?” He groans as he runs the tip along your soaked folds, bumping your swollen bud making your hips jerk.
You shake your head, watching his cock as he slowly presses the head into your opening, your lip caught between your teeth.
“Hey,” Joel’s fingers find your chin, lifting your gaze to his and he feels like he might blow his load then and there. Your eyes simmer with pure lust… pure list and want and love and your looking up at his through your long lashes making his breath hitch in his chest. “Eyes on me when I fuck you, wanna see that pretty face when I make you cum.”
“Y-Yes sir.” You nod weakly, head resting back on the pillows as you hook your ankles around his waist.
“What a good girl you are.” He slowly thrusts in, savoring how you stretch around him, always so tight and warm. A low moan falls from your lips, legs tightening around him encouraging him to go deeper and he obeys, sinking into you completely.
You both stay still for a moment, breaths labored and hearts pounding. Joel keeps himself propped up with one hand, the other pushing your shirt up just under your breasts, finding its place on your small bump.
Joel pulls out half way before sinking back in, moaning and closing his eyes briefly as he finds his pace, deep and slow making your eyes roll and body languid below his. You can feel each bump and ridge of his cock, rubbing your walls in just the right way that your orgasm builds quickly. “So pretty, always wanted to put a baby in you, never thought I’d get the chance.” Your pussy squeezes around him your soft whimpers follow. “Yeah? You like that?”
“F-fuck… yes Joel… yes.” Your grip tightens on his shirt, anchoring yourself to him as pressure begins to build in the base of your spine.
His voice drops, the timbre in his drawl making your blood thick in your veins, head heavy and empty. “Just gonna have ta’ keep you pregnant then, barefoot in ma kitchen, swollen with all my babies.” Joel’s thrusts speed up, his mental image of you driving him closer and closer to his own orgasm. “I need to feel you cum for me, cum on my cock baby.”
His fingers find your swollen clit, rubbing tight circles and you nearly scream, the pressure radiating out into your abdomen pulling your muscles tight. You nod feverishly, panting out some form of yess and please, teetering on the cusp of oblivion, just for him.
Joel groans, eyebrows drawn together and thrusts turning sloppy, he can feel your pussy spasming around him and he knows he won’t last much longer.
“Let it go baby, let it happen, cum on my dick like the good girl you are.”
And it snaps, the tension flooding from your body as your orgasm erupts, a silent scream forming your lips into that perfect O shape that Joel loves so much, and as your cunt clenches down on him he stills, rope after rope of thick cum painting your quivering walls. He moans loud and deep, a shudder raking through his body as his eyes close and he basks in the euphoria washing through him.
Your legs shake around his twitching hips, whining pitchy and out of breath and Joel finally moves his fingers from your sensitive clit, splaying his hand across your stomach.
“You’re gonna be such a good mama.”
*~*~*~*~*~*
You both wait until after your first doctors appointment to tell Sarah and Tommy, over a lovely family meal.
“This is so good.” Sarah mumbles out around a mouth full of homemade lasagna making everyone laugh.
“Thank you, it’s my mamas recipe.” Joel’s eyes lock with yours, a smile tugging at his lips as your heart pounds in your ears, ready to spill the beans like you’ve planted. “I hope one day I can pass it on to you and your little sibling.”
It takes Sarah a minute, but Tommy stops eating immediately, his eyes growing wide, head wiping up to look between you and his brother, the smile that spreads across his face makes your heart warm.
“Ooo I’d love to try and cook it with you some time, I like learning new…” The realization dawns on her then, her jaw dropping open, shock taking over her expression and Joel can’t help but laugh.
“Really?” Sarah turns to you, and you’re already nodding, tears filling your eyes at the same time hers do. “I’m going to be a sister?”
“Oh honey…” She’s out of her chair and crashing into your open arms in an instant, crying against your chest as you bury your face into her curls, holding on tightly.
Tommy embraces Joel, patting his back roughly as Joel beams, watching his two girls over Tommy’s shoulder. This moment, this instances is all he’s ever dreamt of.
5K notes · View notes
star-sim · 3 months
Text
supermassive blackhole ☆ jay park pt. 2
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☆ non-idol!jay x fem!reader
☆ summary: You and Jay Park couldn't stand each other. But after a drunk makeout session at your university's annual soccer mixer, combined with Jay's secret identity as the city's friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, the two of you are pushed closer to each other than ever, challenging your long-time status as 'enemies.'
☆genre: enemies to lovers, suggestive but no nsfw/smut, angst, fluff, spiderman! au, college! au, so incredibly american HELP, reader has glasses bc it's cute and jay has a lip piercing bc i said so
☆ warning(s) ? many mentions and instances of alcohol (all characters are of age), this is very suggestive but there is no smut
☆ word count:  16.7k ☆ tag list: @sophiko22 @yenqa @kwiwin @okikinshasthehiccups @lovelickies @siyen @blackhairandbangs @pjjongsaeng @chkltmlk
part 1
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The next day, exactly one week before finals week officially began, you and your friends decided to have a beach picnic to de-stress from the impending doom that was semester finals. It was your meeting place, ever since high school. Clad in a pretty yellow sundress, you entertained yourself with a sand-castle building contest between you and a few friends. Unfortunately for them, a course in urban design (which you shared with Jay Park) equipped you with just enough knowledge on how to build a killer sand-castle.
“Woah!” Isa, the one that you helped get with Jay’s friend all those years ago, exclaimed. You were crouched right next to her in the sand, using silicone molds to make sand seashells. Since junior year of high school, you and Isa have grown apart. It wasn’t the break up rift that caused the distance. In fact, you got closer because of the break up. People just grew on their own, and sometimes that growth was in opposite directions. Now that you were at the same university, you were still friends, but not as close as you used to be. “Specky, you’re really good.”
You grinned to yourself, melding the wet sand into a pillar. “I know.”
Even when your friendship thinned, there was one thing that made Isa distinct: the fact that she called you “Specky,” (short for “spectacles,” since you wore glasses) and no one else did.
“It’s what a course in urban planning and design gets ya,” you quipped, poking your friend with a sand-covered finger.
There were some things that you two disagreed about.
Like when Isa picked her major to be fashion design and apparel construction. Not the most useful or appealing to most employers unless she made it big, which was why you were so vehemently against it. Between the required courses in fashion design and political science (your own major), you argued that the latter would be much more useful. 
But that was two years ago, and now you joke about it.
“Yeah?” Isa cocked a brow. “But can you make leopard print look good?”
You smiled. “No, but I know how to pass a law that makes leopard print illegal.”
Isa nudged you playfully. It was supposed to be a light nudge, and it was. Except, your heads bumped together. After a bit of laughing and a few ‘sorry’s’ Isa stopped in her tracks, nose scrunching.
You glanced at her curiously.
Isa didn’t say anything, only leaning closer to you. This time, she pressed the tip of her nose against your exposed shoulder.
“Are you sniffing me?”
Isa only laughed before pulling back. You shot your friend a suspicious look. 
“You smell like someone.”
“Don’t I always smell like someone?” you molded the sand in your palm. “Like.. I dunno, myself?”
“Yes, but-” Isa leaned into you again. “You don’t smell like yourself.”
Before you could question her further, Isa called over a few more friends.
“Jake! Kazuha! Come smell Little Miss Specky!”
After having five whole people smell you, they all agreed that you smelled “un-[Name]-like” (whatever that meant).
Isa frowned, placing a thinking hand on her chin. “A-Ha!”
You watched amused as the woman jumped to her feet.
“I know who you smell like!” 
Isa threw an accusatory finger your way. 
“You smell like Jay!”
Jay Park knew there was something wrong when his toaster broke that morning. 
Him and his (your) friends were having a beach get-together, but you went first. He told you that he “had something to do for his job.” Probably easy to guess what he was actually doing.
He arrived at the outing an hour after you did. 
And the moment he stepped out of his taxi, there was an entire group of grown adults (read: his friends) charging at him. It wasn’t unnatural for this to happen, but it was what they were screaming and the person they were dragging along with them– You.
Except, when he made eye contact with her ,you looked away embarrassed.
And that was when he remembered the worst slip-up of his life.
“Yeah, I think Jay Park is in love with you. He tells me all about he’s liked you since freshman year and–”
Lying to you while being Spider-Man…. About how he, in his civilian form, liked you.
In his defense– he was panicking, okay? He didn’t know what to say! And he didn’t want to make it awkward either– ew, that would be so icky. 
Apparently making his enemy think that he was madly in love with her better than making the atmosphere awkward. When he went home yesterday night (that is, after dropping you back at his place and then making another round around the city so that you wouldn't suspect him), he almost jumped off a building without shooting a web to suspend himself. 
He chewed on the inside of his bottom lip.
Jay couldn’t make out any words they were shouting at him, other than your name, “fucking,” and “smell.”
“Okay, okay, shut the fuck up!” Jay finally yelled back at them. “All of you. Let me sit down first.”
When they got back to where all their other friends were, his friends sat him down, looking very serious, as if he was their teenage son who they caught drinking, or something.
“Why are you guys so serious?” he questioned suspiciously. 
“You know why!” one of his friends chided.
Jay really didn’t.
In the corner of his eye, he could see another one of his friends dragging you toward them. 
Dread. 
He could not face you after what happened yesterday.
Eyes narrowing, he turned back to them. “What is this about?”
“How ‘bout you tell us what you’re about?” one of them quipped. “Why does [Name] smell so much like you?”
What.
“Wait, what?” Jay’s lips curled. “What do you mean?”
“Let go of me, Jake!” Jake Sim finally managed to get you, who was kicking and screaming, to come over to where Jay was. You struggled out of his grasp. “Dude, I just want to build my sand-castle, Jesus fuck-”
When your eyes met with Jay’s again, instead of a glare or disgusted expression, you simply looked away awkwardly.
“[Name] [Last Name]!” Isa proclaimed. “Are ya gonna tell us why you smell like your sworn enemy?”
“I don’t know!” you shot your friends a glare. “What do I even smell like normally?”
“Sweet, kinda like an orange,” Jake answered matter-of-factly, smiling.
I would know that, thought Jay.
“And what does Jay smell like normally?” 
When Jay and you locked eyes, you knew the answer exactly. You both knew why you smelled like him, and it was an answer that was more complicated-sounding than it should be. 
You slept in his bed. Not because you slept together on his bed, but because he also used to sleep in that bed, so it was only natural that his scent wore off on you. You also used his shampoo and body wash. Not because you showered together (ew!), but because you lived in his house.
But if you told them that, there was no way in hell anyone would believe that there wasn’t some sort of relationship between you two.
“He smells like wood, but like, mixed with Axe body spray.”
“I do not!”
It was a silent agreement between Jay and you.
Act stupid.
“I literally have no idea what you’re talking about,” Jay grumbled.
You crossed your arms over your chest. “I knew you guys were stupid but I didn’t think you were that stupid.”
Jake and Isa sent each other suspicious looks, reconvening before a large grin spread across both of their faces. 
“I knew it,” Jake murmured. He got louder. “I knew it!”
Everyone looked at him curiously.
“What are you talking about–”
Swinging an imperious finger at Jay and you, Jake announced loud enough for surrounding people to hear and turn their heads. “These two are fucking!”
.
.
.
What?
The uproar that that single statement caused was uncontrollable. In your group of friends, it was common knowledge that Jay Park and [Name] [Last Name] had nothing to do with each other. If Jay was on one end of the spectrum, you would be on the other. Even suggesting that there may be anything more than simply hate was outrageous.
“No way, man….”
“That’s insane.”
“Impossible!”
When Jay looked over at you, ready to deny everything that they were saying, instead of your characteristic scrunched nose and curled lips in disapproval, your face was plastered with nothing but an awkward and almost embarrassed expression. 
“Y’know what?” one of their friends spoke up. “I saw Jay and [Name] kissing at the hockey mixer last week!”
You were completely out of commission, and uncharacteristically so, with a panicked and flustered face. Everyone else was consumed in such clamor. So Jay would have to take everything into his own hands. Taking a deep breath, he waited (while showing great disapproval) for everyone to shut up.
It wasn’t like they’d believe him if he explained the truth. 
“Are you guys done…?” he finally spoke, clear dissatisfaction in his voice. 
Everyone shut up. 
Jay Park was generally an easygoing guy. He didn’t snap at people, and if anything, he was often the butt of jokes. Not that he minded. He was hot-headed and an asshole, but he was probably one of the easiest people to joke with.
However, his censure was not something to mess with.
He was an older brother. He was a STEM major, which was already a rigorous department to go into, no less civil and urban engineering. He was the top of his class in high school (after a certain someone, of course), and ostensibly worked, like, three jobs.
If there was anyone who was normally very patient and smart, it was him. If he’s annoyed, probably shut the fuck up.
Plus, there was nothing like pissing off a tired college student a week before finals.
Jay wet his lips. “You guys are making [Name] uncomfortable. Look at her.”
It was true. You were literally cowering into yourself, frowning deeply and playing with the hem of your yellow sundress.
“Look, I get that you’re our friends, or whatever,” Jay huffed, folding his arms. “But maybe there’s a reason that we don’t tell you certain things. Maybe because everything gets so blown out of proportion and you guys assume the worst.”
He turned over to Jake. The scariest thing about Jay was that even if he was hotheaded most of the time, he was incredibly calm and laid-back when confrontational. “You– You especially. You constantly force [Name] and I together. Some people don’t get along, and that’s okay. Stop trying to force people who don’t want to be forced together.”
Jay wasn’t angry. He wasn’t even annoyed. Just trying to set things straight. When he was done, he looked at his friends expectantly. One by one, they apologized awkwardly.
There was no real resolution, just Jay saying, “Cool,” and walking away to talk to his other friends.
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To say that you felt awkward would be an understatement, and to say that you were comfortable with the fact that you were feeling awkward would be a lie.
There was a lot to unpack.
Everyone was trying to suggest that you and Jay had some sort of sexual relationship. People always joked about it, sure, but for an entire group to accuse you of it was beyond disorienting. Now sitting under the parasol with a floral-print towel beneath your sundress, drawing shapes on the sand that had gotten onto the towel, you wished you could have said something. Sure, they were probably being light-hearted, and you knew your friends had no intention to make you feel uncomfortable, but there was something else they didn’t know.
That the number one source of your discomfort was directly from Jay.
When Spider-Man detailed everything that Jay had apparently told him about you, you didn't know how to feel.
According to Spider-Man, Jay Park has had a thing for you since freshman year of high school, and he keeps the hero up until early hours of the day just talking about you. Initially, you were horrified. Could Spider-Man be messing with you? There was no way that Jay Park– the bitch-faced, uncouth, uncivilized, villain that was Jay Park– liked you.
Just the thought that someone like him saw you in a different light made you uneasy.
On the other hand, you were a bit flattered. As Spider-Man explained it, Jay had a thing for you but not necessarily a crush. Rather, he found you attractive. 
“And he still does,” the hero had added. “He still thinks you’re attractive, even if he argues with you.”
Jay was the victim of some of your worst moments. You’ve screamed bloody murder at him, shed hot tears, and shrieked so hard that you’d lost your voice. He’d point out your major flaws and insecurities, ones that you didn’t even know that you had. He’d seen your true destructive, tyrannical, and malicious self.
But he still found you attractive? 
That was terrifying.
Has he ever seen you with your friends? How you were you soft and kind, all affectionate and tender? How you’d take care of them, how you’d pet their heads and listen to them cry?
How could he ever find you attractive if he’d never seen you be a good person, when he’d only seen the monstrous side of you?
How could anyone find you attractive?
You got positive comments about your appearance many times before, but they were always followed up by comments about your character
You were snapped out of your thoughts when a familiar dark head of hair passed through your line of vision. You never took the time to observe what he was wearing: basketball shorts and a hoodie. It seemed like he could never dress for the occasion, regardless of where he was.
He had his earbuds jammed into his ears, an irritated expression on his face. 
After years of purposefully trying to make his life miserable, you could read his face easily
Jay was hot. Physically– Wait no. 
Jay was hot, as in ‘affected by the scalding weather.’ His brows always scrunched up with his bottom lip jutting out when he was feeling especially warm. 
Maybe if he took off that hoodie of his for once.
You looked down at your hands.
You were under a parasol. 
Which gave shade. 
Which would make someone feel less ‘affected by the scalding weather.’
“Park!”
You never really thought that you would be the one to invite Jay Park to sit under a parasol with you. Especially after such events that transpired earlier.
It was silent.
Awkward.
Usually, you’d be able to look him straight in the eye, but now equipped with the knowledge that he may or may not have been attracted to you this entire time, you felt queasy.
Maybe this was a bad idea.
He had his eyes glued to the book that he was reading. Upon closer inspection, you knew that book. In fact, you had it.
It was Design of Cities: Revised Edition by Edmund Bacon. The textbook for your urban design course.
And he had the audacity to call you nerdo freak all this time! 
He only looked away from his book to glance at his phone. 
To change the song that he was listening to.
When you peeked at his phone screen, you noticed a familiar album cover playing.
Bright orange and blue, four men gathered around the table.
Then you noticed the white text right below it.
Supermassive Blackhole.
Before your mind could even think, your mouth moved for you.
“You listen to Muse?”
Jay took his earbud out of his ear, looking up at you slowly with a questioning look.
.
.
.
This scene has happened before.
“You asked me that already,” Jay said simply. 
“I-I know.” Why were you stammering? “Summer of freshman year. We were at the beach then, too.”
He cocked a brow at you, and just as he was turning back to his textbook, you continued, voice meeker than usual. “I asked you if you listened to Muse because I also listen to them. But you.. You thought I was making fun of you.”
Jay looked at you slowly.
Why were you shy?
He fingered the earbud that he had removed. You seemed to notice, bracing yourself for the slight embarrassment that would come with his shoving that thing back into his ear. Except, he didn’t. Instead, he presented it in his palm before you.
Was he… offering it to you?
“If you’re just going to stare at it–”
You snatched the bud from his palm, prodding it into your ear.
When the music played, you were met with Matt Bellamy vocalizing into your ear and that iconic, yet rough, guitar rift. Weird that the very song that you listened to when working out was the one that Jay used to study urban planning and design.
You watched Jay’s focused face. The scar on his nose got lost in the divots on his skin when he scrunched his nose, presumably in reaction to something he had read. You never really noticed the birthmark on his neck either.
The next song played, but before it did, Jay paused it.
“What are you looking at?”
You recoiled.
“You were looking at me,” Jay remarked. “Is there something on my face?”
“No, there’s nothing.”
“Okay.”
He caught a glimpse of the song playing before pressing ‘play.’
“You must love this song,” he muttered.
You couldn’t tell if he was being serious or not, until you were met with a distinct drum, rugged bassline, and the 4-on-the-floor beat.
Exo-Politics.
That was the name of the song. 
The song that was playing was called Exo-Politics.
You were a political science major.
Was he trying to joke with you?
Was the Jay Park attempting to joke with you?
In the corner of your eye, you could see some children building sand-castles, just like you had been doing earlier. You then peered at the textbook he was reading.
Design of Cities: Revised Edition by Edmund Bacon.
You bit your lip.
“Do you…” you began. “Do you want to see who can build a better sand-castle?”
A civil and urban engineering major and a political science major. 
Both were taking the same urban planning and design college course.
Who would build a better sand-city?
“What the fuck is that?”
“I’m going for a high-rise look!”
Maybe it wasn’t the greatest idea. 
Especially when it was two ‘nerdo freaks’ trying to out-wit each other.
“The housing density is insane.”
“That settlement looks squatter.”
“That looks unsustainable.”
“That neighborhood is just looking to get gentrified.”
At that comment, you, who were only a few feet away from Jay, grabbed a handful of semi-wet sand and hurled it at the man. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Hey!” The glob of sand had landed on one of his ‘high-rise’ buildings. “I’m trying to say that your neighborhoods look poor.”
“Poor?!”
You went for a more sustainable look. Geometric layouts, charmingly sinuous roads, mid-height buildings with only a few clustered high-rise ones, concise zones of income, and clumps of wet sand littered all across the sand-city, imitating trees.
“Is that… New Urbanism?”
You patted your hands off. “Glad that you can recognize it, Park.”
The detail really was something to marvel at. Each building had a indents into their surface to imitate windows, the sandy ‘roads’ were strategically carved with a sharp fingernail to replicate the different uses of land, and even the globs of sand that represented trees were fluffed up to look like actual trees rather than miscellaneous globs.
Jay rolled his eyes, going back to shaping the pointed tip of his building.
Whereas your city was terribly idealistic, he went for a more true-to-life replica. After all, it was his job to study and create infrastructural pieces for real-life cities. High-rise buildings, strong geometric structures, high-density housing, narrow spaces between structures, and little open space. They were built with incredible precision: all the lines were perfectly straight, all the shapes were beautifully even on all sides, and it genuinely looked true-to-life.
“Your city looks like something that would need protection from Spider-Man.”
Ironic.
Jay sighed to hide the slightly-amused grin that you had elicited from him.
“You like Spider-Man?” 
Your face contorted, eyes squinting. “In what way?”
“Whaddya mean ‘in what way’?”
You frowned. “I mean, economically and politically speaking, he’s kind of a disturbance, dontcha think?”
Do you even like Spider-Man? Has Jay been misconstruing everything?
Did he technically kidnap you?
“He’s, like, more effective than other law enforcement, but that’s really a testament to him as a protector and how shit current law enforcement is,” you thought aloud. “I think he’s good.”
“Just good?
You frowned again. 
“Aren’t you his friend?” you changed the subject. Even in your strange uneasiness, you didn’t find it hard to maintain steady eye-contact with the man. Given the fact that you’d cussed him out using all swears under the sun while looking him straight in the eye.
Jay feigned surprise. “Yeah, he is. How do you know that?”
The man watched as your bottom lip was taken under your teeth. “He came by last night.”
Jay quirked a brow.
There was a pulse of silence between you two.
Not quite comfortable, but not exactly hostile.
Other than the sound of soft breathing, seagulls squawking and people laughing in the distance, and sea waves crashing against the sandy shore, it was completely silent. 
Dare Jay say, a nice moment.
“Jay, come play football with us!”
That’s right. 
Every time they’d go to the beach, Jay would play football with the boys. 
He wanted to play. 
But he also wanted to show you up in your sand-city competition. 
As he constructed another sand skyscraper, Jay slowly looked up. His eyes met with yours. You gave him a sharp nod, as if to say, ‘Go ahead.’
The man sighed.
Dusting his sandy hands off, Jay rose to his feet.
“I’m not done here, by the way,” he remarked as he passed your crouched form. “I can still make a better city than you.”
Jay felt a glob of sand flicked at his leg, he knew that the feeling was mutual.
Jay lost control of his spider-like abilities sometimes.
His fingers would stick implacably to papers if he wasn’t careful, he’d turn a door handle mindlessly and break it with his inhuman strength, or be acutely aware of the most miniscule of all dust specks flying close to someone’s face.
Sometimes, he’d use those abilities to his advantage.
Like right now.
Jay wasn’t cheating!
Just making use of what his body can do.
Fast reflexes to dodge those that would charge at him head-on, incredible (in a human way) running speed, and probably the greatest throws, like, ever.
When Jake Sim passed the red-brown ball in his direction, who was he to not use those spider reflexes and catch it with larger-than-life precision? As his eyes scoped around for who to pass to, he found the perfect person. Preparing, he raised his arm, squinting for accuracy. At once, he hurled the football.
Except, he found that he’d lost control of just how much strength he was putting into the throw. 
At top speed, it began shooting through the air, its pointed tip charging like a missile. As if it was in slow motion, gravity dragged the leathery ball toward the sandy ground. Like a rocket torpedo, the football flung straight into the elaborate city of sand sculpted by your very hands.
If it was any normal, human-strength throw, only a portion of the sand-city would be destroyed.
But because Jay had an obscene amount of strength, the ball not only destroyed the entire city, but dug so harshly into the sand that it exploded it– debris-like chunks of sand just bursting everywhere. And especially all over you and your pretty yellow sundress.
The earth must have stopped spinning, the sun shedding a single ray like a stagelight in a theater over your now frozen figure.  It wasn’t just Jay’s super hearing senses. It was like all sound at this bustling beach died out in an instant, zeroing in you.
You turned your head slowly. Your expression was completely vacant, but that spoke volumes. There was sand all over your face, so with a willful arm, you wiped all of it in a sharp swipe.
Even though he was several meters away from you across the beach, and even though there was no way of telling who threw the ball, Jay could feel your stone gaze right at him. You took a deep breath.
Jay ran to you.
“I’m so sorry,” he breathed, swiping his tongue over his bottom lip. “I didn’t realize that it– the ball– was going your way– I–”
Everyone was ready to hear you shout your lungs out at Jay. In fact, Jay braced himself for the onslaught of profanities and obscenities that would be rightfully spewed at him.
But there was no yelling.
You breathed through your nose before rising to your feet and dusting off your sandy dress.
You looked at him.
“Thanks a lot, Jay.” There was a sliver of a smile spreading on your lips, but the way your teeth so clearly clenched together told a different story. You squeezed your eyes shut to conceal your bubbling anger, but you simply couldn’t take it. “It always seems like you ‘didn’t realize’ something all the time. But I’m not really surprised anymore.”
With that, flicked a piece of sand off your shoulder before snatching up your tote bag that was perched against the parasol and turning on your heel.
All Jay could do was watch your retreating back, football in hand, as you walked in the opposite direction away from him to the parking lot. 
He dug his nails into the leathery ball. Tearing his eyes away from you, Jay was about to turn back to his friends. 
Except, a massive crash erupted through the air.
With his spider-like reflexes, Jay snapped his head up. From behind the high-rise buildings and tall structures emerged a giant shadow. 
Almost immediately, in the distance, Jay heard cars honking, wheels screeching against the road, and screaming. There were mini fires in the distance from cars crashing.
As people scurried for their lives, the car smoke cleared, revealing a greater shadow in the distance. 
Six claws, seemingly mechanical and woven together with many tiny wires. Two antennas extending from the crown of the figure. Metallic body, with red and flashing accents.
Shit. 
He knew exactly who that was.
Doctor Discotheque.
Didn’t he fight him a week ago?
“Where’s Spider-Man?!”
Jay clenched his fist. 
He had to find a way to get into his hero suit without anyone seeing. Speaking of…
The man whipped his head around to where his friends were. Like everyone else, they were running for their lives. At least they were going in the opposite direction.
Clenching his fist again, Jay was ready to charge straight up to the supervillain, but his dark eyes incidentally caught onto the frozen figure of none other than you. You were completely frozen in your spot, unmoving as you gawked at the incredible size of the villain.
Damnit, [Name], Jay sucked in a sharp breath. It wasn’t abnormal for people to freeze in the face of danger, but he never thought it would be you. 
Shooting a web from his wrist, Jay retrieved a stray towel. In what was only a fraction of a second, he threw the towel over him before he changed into his Spider-Man suit. Fixing his mask, he discarded the towel.
The ground rumbled under his feet as Doctor Discotheque’s gigantic body terrorized the streets.
Jay’s feet immediately began moving, running toward your direction. As he approached her, he shot a sticky white web, sticking to your clothes back and effectively yanking you right into him. The hero threw you over his shoulder with an arm around your waist, and began running the other direction.
When you didn’t react, Jay gave a pat to your ass, the way a parent would do to their infant.
“Oi, [Name]!” Jay propelled himself off the sandy ground, discharging a few webs to allow him to swing. 
“S-Spider-Man?!” Finally, you snapped out of your dazed state. “What’s– What was that?!”
Jay tightened his grasp around you as he began climbing up a building. By now, he was far from where Doctor Discotheque was. Good for your safety, but not good for his own crime-fighting. 
“What, that big thing?” He felt you nod. “That’s just my good pal Doctor Discotheque.”
His tone was far too easygoing, and you audibly gulped.
“Relaaaaax, Angel,” Jay swung to another building. “He’s just a little villain. I beat him twice already. Nothin’ for ya to worry yer pretty head about about.”
“But he’s huge! And, you’re–”
Jay gave your ass another pat. “Just trust me on this, Baby.”
Finally, you reached the destination Jay had planned for you– the underground subway station. It was far enough from all the commotion for it to be calm, but just safe enough.
Jay placed you down. Despite all his reassurance, your face was twisted with concern.
You squeezed his shoulder, lips jutting out into a frown.
“I told ya already,” Jay knocked on your head. “Don’t worry about me.”
When you wouldn’t stop frowning, Jay flexed his bicep, placing your hand on it. With his hand over you, he squeezed his firm bicep.
“Ya feel that muscle?” you nodded slowly. “I’m strong. Spider-Man is strong.”
You stared at him.
“So you don’t hafta worry about me.”
Granted, Jay was talking to you the same way that he would talk to a crying six-year-old, but hey, it’s the principle of it!
“Just…” you took a deep breath. “Be careful.”
Jay unknowingly grinned. “Yeah, yeah.”
There was a pulse of silence between you two.
You looked up at him, with nearly glossy and wide eyes. You bit your lip.
“Before you go…” you murmured something under your breath. Abruptly, you grabbed Jay’s masked face, bringing it down so that he was eye-level to you. You pressed a quick peck to his cheek, before pulling back immediately. “Just…  Don’t do anything dumb.”
Jay stared at you, blinking a few times to absorb everything. He swallowed on his dry throat, licking his lips. Another wide grin spread over his face. 
“Of course, Gorgeous.”
Okkkayyy….
So maybe Jay was a bit of a liar.
According to the supervillain himself, Doctor Discotheque got access to some high-tech science shit and now had this supermassive mechanical body to control.
Just great.
Spider-Man was no wimp. He fought with all his might and was actually quite effective. Effective enough to damage Doctor Discotheque to the point that he ran away and yelled, “Damn you, Spider-Man!”
The only issue was that Doctor Discotheque was a little too strong for Jay to handle unprepared. 
The night was completely silent now. That is, if you didn’t count the police sirens and helicopters flying overhead, reporting on the incident.
There was an undoubted hush that fell over the city. The supervillain hadn’t done anything that was crisis-causing, but he was an unequivocal threat. According to the police reports, three people had died, while an entire block and a half of important infrastructure, including parts of the beach, had been subject to damage. The news, after collecting data, reported that quantitatively, 67% of citizens felt unsafe and were fearful of what was to come. Indeed, there was a threat.
And even worse, Spider-Man was injured.
Doctor Discotheque wasn’t lying when he said that he had “some high-tech science shit,” because one of his tentacle-like claws managed to stab Jay’s thigh. It was nothing fatal, but it was certainly debilitating.
“Ah– Shit.” Jay had to resort to climbing the walls instead of swinging around buildings. Before he entered his apartment complex, he made sure to tie a piece of cloth around his bleeding wound and change back to his civilian clothes.
When he cracked open his apartment door, he was surprised when you bombarded him with questions.
“Where the hell were you?” The you that Spider-Man knew was vastly different from the you that Jay Park knew. “We were all so worried– Shit– No one saw you, like, at all, at the beach– and you weren’t responding to any texts or calls– and–”
Jay blinked. 
“What were you doing all this time? You could have been killed, or injured!-- or– It doesn’t matter– Where have you been all this time and why haven’t you been responding to any of us, or–”
You dug your teeth into your bottom lip. “Look! Even your brother’s worried sick!” 
Jay looked over at Wonnie, who was eating chips (and getting crumbs all over) and watching TV, completely unbothered.
“I, um,” Jay stared at you. Quick! How was he going to get out of this one? “I was– I was at my internship. We.. uh, We were studying infrastructure… as a result of the… Incident.”
You eyed him suspiciously. “Was the studying so interesting that you couldn’t respond to any texts or calls?”
Jay fumbled with his phone that was deeply squashed in his pants pocket. “It was dead.”
It was now that he noticed the way that you were circling him, inspecting him like a hawk. It was a good thing that he changed into his civilian-wear, or else you'd see the cuts and bruises all over his arms, as well as the dirt and debris that had gotten into and onto his hero suit. 
“Oh my god, are you bleeding?!”
Jay looked down, and lo and behold, there’s blood dripping down his thigh, creating a puddle of dark red below him.
Maybe next time, he shouldn’t use a tiny piece of cloth to tie up such an absurd wound like that.
“Oh. I am.”
“?!”
And that’s how Jay found himself sprawled across the bathroom floor with one ear pressed against the bathroom door, listening to your voice on the other side.
“Is it bad?”
“Yeah, there’s blood everywhere.”
“?!”
He finally fessed up and admitted that he got stabbed in the thigh (with an appropriate excuse, of course). You were just going to leave it at that, snarkily saying, “Hope you know how to fix up a stab wound,” but when he responded with, “I don’t,” you grumbled under your breath and forced him to take a shower. You weren't exactly excited to see him naked and so bare (his thigh!) and neither was he, so your direction was all told behind a bathroom door.
It was a tedious task having to listen to you. 
But you were a tedious person.
Look for things in the wound like glass shards, disinfect it with alcohol, patch it up.
Except he couldn’t get past the second step.
“Shit, shit, shiiiiit,” Jay hissed. Rubbing alcohol burned.
“Park?” your voice resounded behind the bathroom door. “Are you okay in there?”
He fumbled with the various medical equipment. “Y-Yeah– It just kinda hurts.”
There was a silence.
“I’m fine.”
Behind the door, he heard you sigh.
“Put on some clothes, Park.”
“W-What?”
“You’re so fuckin’ incompetent that I need to help you. Put on some clothes so I can get in there, will ya?”
Now the two of you were sitting on the floor.
“Ow! That really hur–”
“Stay still then!” “I can’t when it’s burni– Ah.. Agh! It hurts!”
The wound was a lot worse than you had thought. Jay said that one of the interns dropped a saw knife on his lap, causing it to stab him. Honestly, you did not buy that story but it was the best he had so you just accepted it.
Unfortunately, this stab wound looked a lot worse than someone just accidentally dropping a sharp object onto his lap.
The two of you were now sitting on the cold bathroom floor, you in between his legs. Jay had shorts rolled all the way up, revealing his injured thigh. Other than the occasional hiss of pain, annoyed murmur, and sound of Wonnie’s TV channel in the background, it was completely silent. The early-summer night was only beginning to darken. If the night of the party was discounted, then this may have been the closest that you two have ever been.
Your delicate fingers against his skin, Jay sunk his teeth into his lip. Your glasses were at the very tip of your nose, almost falling off your face. He wanted to push them up badly, but decided against it. After all, you and him were not friends. Barely even acquaintances.
Well, you and him, a.k.a.  you and his civilian form, a.k.a. you Jay Park.
You and Spider-Man seemed to be great friends.
He wondered why you hated him so much. You got along well with Spider-Man just fine, and Spider-Man was probably the most free version of Jay there was. Was it just the very essence of Jay Park?
Thinking back to what happened earlier at the subway station, you were sweet. Too sweet. The sweetest that he’d ever seen.
Jay never thought that he’d look into your eyes and see genuine worry, concern.
The way you held onto him, those pouty lips, gleaming eyes that looked up at him like he was some god.
Jay’s lips parted unconsciously as he watched the way you were currently working between his legs. 
It would be a lie to say that Jay wasn’t, to some degree, attracted to you. He’s always been. Your [H/C] hair, those glasses that would delicately lay on your nose. Your mean words, nasty glares, critical eyes, and most strikingly, your wicked intelligence– they should have made him completely terrified of you, but for some reason, it only made him more attracted to you. 
Too many guilty nights were spent thinking about you, contemplating what he should say to you the next day to elicit a reaction.
Sometimes, at night, his mind would wander about what would have happened that night at the soccer mixer if Wonnie hadn’t called him. What would have happened between him and you? 
And when you kissed him earlier, he felt like a little schoolboy talking to a girl for the first time. Why was he so giddy?
He bit his tongue as you finished off your bandaging job.
He was going crazy.
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Yes, you did indeed need to ask Jay Park for help again. Normally that would be embarrassing enough. But now it was another level of embarrassment.
A few days had passed since the incident at the beach, and someone had the wonderful idea to have a frat party. In the middle of the week. Which was what you (and by association, Jay) were getting ready for.
You and Jay agreed that you both would be taking your car to the party, but under the condition that you went in at appropriately-spaced times to avoid misunderstandings.
Jay’s version of “getting ready” was literally nothing. He wore what he always wore to parties. On the other hand, you actually dressed up.
The only issue was you didn’t have your friends with you, who would usually help you get ready.
Which was why you were now embarrassingly asking Jay Park to zip up your tiny red dress.
“C-Can you– just–” you had to cross your arms to keep the thin spaghetti straps from falling off your shoulders. Even so, in front of him, you felt like you were practically spilling out of the dress. “Can you just zip up my dress?”
How embarrassing.
Jay agreed to it with a silent nod, but you could feel his judgment boring into the back of your head. 
You felt his large hands ghost over your lower back before stopping.
“Move your hair.”
When you didn’t respond, Jay repeated himself. “Move your hair. I can’t zip it up if your hair’s in the way.”
“O-Oh.”
How embarrassing.
When he was done, you instinctively turned around to face him. When you were with your friends and they zipped up your dress, you’d turn around and ask, “How do I look?”
Unfortunately, Jay wasn’t one of those friends.
Your cheeks burned in embarrassment when Jay gave a questioning look, ready to turn around and scurry off. However, you couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes clung to your dress-clad body, and especially the way that he gulped harshly, his Adam’s apple bobbing.
You couldn’t stop the self-satisfied curve forming on your lips.
“What?!” was the simultaneous reaction of Jay and you.
Inevitably, when you arrived at the party, you parted ways to go to your own friends.
“I don’t know how you could hate him,” a friend chuckled into your ear as you hung out in the billiard area, drinks in hand.
“Hate who?”
Another friend nudged you. “Y’know.. Jay.”
You grimaced. “What about him?”
The friend laughed. “Have you seen his arms?”
“No, I haven’t.” You frowned. 
Your friends shrieked, giving you a slap on the arm. “Christ, he’s, like, fine as fuck– oh my god, the lip piercing–”
The bespectacled you frowned again, taking a sip of your canned beer. “If you like him so much, you should tell him. His big ass head might like the attention.”
Your friends exchanged looks.
“Nah, I can’t do that.”
At that point, you weren't even paying attention, too focused on the pool game happening in the room. “Why not?”
“Because everyone knows that Jay Park is yours.”
.
.
.
“WHAT?”
Jay Park?
Yours?
?????
“He’s not-”
Your friend threw an arm around your shoulder. “Look, babe, we all understand. It’s pretty much an unwritten rule that Jay Park is reserved for you and you are reserved for Jay Park.”
You scowled, taking another long sip of your beer, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. Your neck felt uncharacteristically warm. “But, we’ve never even shown interest in each other!”
Another friend put a hand on your shoulder. “Everyone sees the way he looks at you.”
“But that’s just him!” you crossed your arms. “I do not like him!”
There’s cheering in the other room, which you momentarily poked your head out of the room to take a look at. Meanwhile, your friends shared a look.
“[Name], Sweetie,” they smiled when you came back. “Remember when he got his first girlfriend? You were glaring daggers at her.”
“Because she was an objectively bad person!”
“Then why were you crying into my shoulder for hours because you randomly ‘felt sad’?”
“Because I was randomly feeling sad!”
“Right…”
Your friend sighed. “You guys are crazily oblivious.”
You spluttered.
Likewise, Jay was having a similar dilemma.
“Dude, I don’t care if you think [Name] is hot,” the dark-haired man crossed his arms.
His friends stared at him. “Uh. I think you do.”
Jay’s nose scrunched. “I don’t.”
“She always looks like she’s gonna eat you up–”
Jay leaned back on the sofa, throwing an arm over his eyes. “Yeah, which is why–”
“And you always look like you want her to eat you up.”
.
.
.
“That’s not true.” Okay, so maybe Jay Park knew that it was true. When you called him stupid or cursed at him, it may or may not have been a turn-on. He’s not weird. “She doesn’t even call me by my name.”
“Right, [Name] exclusively calls you Park.”
Another friend chimed in. “She wants your last name!”
“Wha–”
Another one spoke up. “She calls you by your last name because she’s waayy into taking it.”
“Okay, okay,” Jay muttered. “But even if I did like her, I don’t think she’s like me back.”
“We never said anything about you liking her…”
.
.
.
“I’m leaving.”
He didn’t end up leaving. In fact, he and his friends ended up in the hallway bedroom along with an entire group of other people. Including you and your own friends.
“Let’s play truth or dare!”
The moment that that fuck-faced, son of a bitch Jake Sim reached for the glass Heineken bottle and gave it a spin, Jay knew he was doomed. Because the bottle landed on you yourself. And the mischievous look on his face told the room everything they had to know.
“[Name], I dare you to play 7 Minutes in Heaven with Jay!”
That’s how Jay Park found himself sitting face-to-face with you in a stuffy closet. 
Awkward.
Outside, you could hear the muffled voices of your friends, giggling amongst themselves. It was deathly silent in the closet, so quiet that Jay’s ears rung with static. Despite this, your eyes were not shy; steady and unwavering eye-contact was always the way for Jay and you, no matter the situation.
“Are they gonna kiss?!” someone whispered not-so-loudly on the other side of the door. You, staring dead into his eyes, cocked a brow, your lip twitching. 
“Six minutes!” someone shouted outside.
Jay was uncomfortable. You probably were, too.
How could he lighten up the mood?
Well, he’s comfortable with you when he’s Spider-Man, and vice versa. What’s something Spider-Man would say?
“You look great tonight.”
Good one, Spider-Man.
Your brows furrowed together, your entire face scrunching. Just as Jay was about to pray to the sky for the ground to swallow him up, you opened your mouth. 
“Thank you,” you said quietly, and for the first time since you got into the closet, averted your gaze from his. Your eyes dropped, before using your foot to nudge him. “Nice socks, Park.”
That’s right, tonight he was wearing… Spider-Man socks.
Oh man, he looked like a weirdo.
Jay chewed on his bottom lip. 
When he glanced over at you, for the first time ever, instead of feeling indignation or irritation, he felt something adjacent to admiration. 
Jay had seen you for every one of your embarrassing phases. And when he looked at you now, those dark and curly mascara-laden lashes, glossy pink lips, and shimmery eyeshadow lining your eyes, he only realized then how gorgeous you were. You had always been attractive to him, and he’d always known that. But now you were seriously beautiful. 
There was no doubt that you put effort into your appearance. He was stupid, and he knew he was, to indulge in the idea that, perhaps, you dressed up for him.
On your end, your heart was hammering in your chest. Which was weird. Because that only happened when you were nervous. And what was there to be nervous about when it came to Jay Park?
“Five minutes!”
Your friends’ words rang in your head.
Was Jay Park really that attractive?
He had honey-gold skin, strong and sharp features, tousled dark hair, and a pierced lip. If you looked past his smug expression when he got what he wanted or that slightly-pathetic look in his eyes when he didn’t, you supposed that he could be attractive. 
You glanced at him. His distracted gaze, pointed at the carpeted floor below their feet, was almost daunting.
Was there something between you and Jay, something that neither of you knew about?
If someone asked you that question years ago, you would have punched them square in the face for asking such a dumb question.
But now you didn’t know.
You would be lying if you said that you never thought of Jay Park in a different light. As much as you hated to admit it, there were times where you questioned your attraction to him. It wasn’t like he was going around charming you with physical affection. 
Instead, it was small actions.
Rolling his sleeves up, his large hands littered with rings, the bruises along his knuckles and splinters and cuts along his fingers because of his engineering workshops, licking his lips, that little side smirk he’d do when satisfied with himself, when he’d quirk his brow at you, when he’d correct people, when he’d speak academically, when he’d help people in class.
You were so immersed in thoughts that you didn't notice the way Jay was outright staring at you. 
You were only pulled out of it when you felt a finger push up your glasses.
Surprised, you jerked back, eyes looking up at a just-as-surprised Jay.
“I’m sorry,” Jay blurted almost immediately. “Your glasses– they were falling down your nose, so I–”
You bit the inside of your cheek, feeling your ears prickle with heat. Sheepishly, you pushed up your glasses, holding onto the rims as a way to hide your embarrassed face.
“I’m so sorry,” Jay rambled. “That’s so weird and I shouldn’t have and–”
“It’s okay,” you interrupted. You pushed up your glasses again.
Another silence fell over you, this time, even more tense. Until Jay broke the silence.
“How did we even start hating each other?” 
You cracked a small smile. “You don’t remember?
“No, I do,” Jay said. “I just feel like there were so many opportunities for us to become friends. We just never did.”
“I guess.”
There’s another pulse of silence.
“I don’t hate you, by the way,” you mumbled. 
“You don’t?”
��I mean, at least I don’t think so.”
“Then I don’t think I hate you either.”
“Thanks.”
Jay almost laughed. “‘Thanks?’”
You shrugged.
Your eyes met, staring into each other’s eyes for a few moments before a bashful expression spread across Jay’s face. “Y’know, I stopped talking to Taehyun after you yelled at me.”
Your lips parted. “Why?”
Jay scoffed, his brows knitting together in an attempt to explain himself. 
“I dunno. I guess you..” he trailed off. Again, those wide and glossy eyes that looked at him. This time, though, instead of gazing at him as if he was some god, you watched him as if he was a book, trying to read him. “You beat some sense into me.”
“Three minutes!” someone shouted. From outside, there were giggling and fake kissing noises.
You two shared a small laugh at your friends.
The remaining 3 minutes were quiet.
College student stress was no joke. That coupled with a pinch of sexual and housing frustration, and the result is a drunk you.
You really didn’t mean to drink so much tonight, but everything seemed to become a much bigger problem when on a dance floor next to a whole bunch of sweaty bodies, so why not drink your problems away?
Currently, you were on top of a guy, who was equally as drunk as you, in the guest bedroom of the frat house. Tangling your hands in his hair, you smashed your lips against his. Whoever you were kissing was a messy kisser– He shoved his tongue into your mouth, aggressively exploring every crevice. His kisses left your lips swollen and pouty, pink lip gloss leaving pretty residue at the corner of his lips. Cold metal pressed into your bottom lip– it must have been a piercing. It should have hurt, and it did, but the foreign and cold pain only made the kiss even better.
Meanwhile, his hands roamed.
Would it be a good time now to mention that the guy was Jay Park-- just that both of you were too drunk to even notice each other? For the second time.
Jay's large, ring-covered fingers gripped your hips, hard enough to leave bruises. With each passionate kiss, he pulled your hips against his, before sliding his hands down to your ass and giving it a squeeze, earning a squeal from you. 
You finally pulled away from each other only to catch a breath of air. You, with puffy lips and blown-out eyes, shifted in the man’s lap; you shoved your knee between his thighs, while your hands grasped his hair to tilt his head, giving you access to his neck.
Pressing wet kisses along his honey-gold skin, you took in his woody scent. Your fingers, laced harshly in his soft locks, pulled on his hair.
“Fuuuuuck,” Jay groaned. 
You gave his hair another harsh tug, pressing your lip directly against his neck– right at the crook where his jaw met his neck. You swiped your tongue over his skin. Grinning to yourself, you graze your teeth against him, before sinking them in and giving his plush skin a soft suck. He gasped.
“You like that?” you breathed in his ear. He shuddered, nodding quickly. 
Unsatisfied, you sank your teeth into his skin again, sucking harshly this time. “I wanna hear you fuckin’ say it.”
“Yes– shiiit–” your lips moved to the crook of his neck. Jay threw his head back, sighing loudly. “Fuck, I like that.”
Even under the dim bedroom light, when you pulled away,you could admire the red-purple marks left on his skin, along with the slight shimmery sheen of lip gloss left. Just when he thought it was over, you ran your tongue along the bruises that you left, pressing the sensitive skin. 
You ran a pedicured hand up his chest, before pushing him down so that he was lying flat on the soft bed. Currently, you were completely straddling his thigh, so you threw a leg around him so that you would be straddling his hips.
In your drunken stupor, you couldn't make out his features, other than a sharp nose and dark hair. Jay's hands came up to grip your hips once again, rocking yours against his just slightly and letting out a desperate cry.
You ran your nail along Jay's neck, admiring the marks you left.  You grasped his chin, shaking it side-to-side. “Uh-uh. Not until I say so.”
Yanking the hem of his hoodie, you pulled it up, revealing a toned and tanned stomach. You graze your nails against his skin, biting your lip.
“Raise your arms,” you slurred. He sat up and complied, so you pulled his hoodie over his head. With him still sat up, you pulled Jay close so that your chests were pressed right against each other.
Once again, you smashed your lips against his, engaging in another heated make-out session. Your nails dug into Jay's biceps, while his hands roamed your body– squeezing your ass, grazing your thighs, and tugging at the thin spaghetti straps of your dress.
“Take it off,” he whined against your lips, pawing at your dress. “Take it off, please.”
You chuckled, amused. You grabbed his chin. “What did I say earlier?”
“Please, please, please,” he begged, completely ignoring what you said.
You slammed your lips against each other, pulling him by his face. The room was filled with the sound of lips colliding with one another, and occasional whines and pleas.
Both far too intoxicated to focus on anything other than your desire, you didn’t notice the sound of footsteps and laughter approaching the guest bedroom.
“And I was like–” the door clicked open. “OH MY GOD–”
Why does this keep happening? 
The last time Jay went to a frat party, he nearly hooked up with you and got cockblocked one way or another. Last time, it was his kid brother. And now his friends.
As he ran out of the frat house (of course grabbing a water bottle and chugging it to sober up), searching for you, Jay couldn’t help but feel a harboring sense of disappointment and shame. His cheeks burned against the cool night air, his eyes glossy and watery with the initial surprise and now, shame. He tried to blink back the tears that were beginning to line his eyes, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood.
When two of your friends bursted through the doorway, the two of you were completely frozen. Jay was too drunk to even comprehend what was happening, but when he heard “[Name],” everything came back to him.
You didn’t seem to realize it was him either until you heard his name.
And the moment that you did, your face grew red, morphing and twisting. As crystal tears began to fill your eyes, you began hitting and punching Jay. Maybe he was too drunk to understand, or you were too drunk to generate coherent words. But he couldn’t understand anything that you said.
Not until you let out a loud sob, yelling, “I hate you, Jay Park.”
You jumped off of him, running out of the room, pushing past the group of friends that had formed a mini-crowd around the doorway. 
You must be disgusted with him. He was a fool to think that he could even have a chance with you.
Humiliated and disgusted with himself, Jay watched as you ran off into the night. His heart sank to his knees, an uneasy and nauseating feeling settling in his stomach. As his heart calmed down, Jay lowered his head in humiliation, unable to even face himself.
You said that you didn't hate him, but you surely must now.
Just as he was about to run back into that frat house and drink himself dead, he realized one very crucial thing: where the fuck was you going?
You were drunk. And crying. Even if you hailed a taxi, there was no way of knowing that you'll be safe.
Sucking in a sharp breath from his heavy breath, Jay looked down at his hands.
God, he was so ashamed of himself. He would love– and truly, love– to go drink until he was shitfaced drunk again. There’s no way that he could look anyone, and especially you, in the eye after this. He felt disgusting. Nasty. He must be a repulsive person.
But there was no way in hell that he was going to let a drunk and vulnerable woman run around the city late at night.
Which was why Jay found himself pulling the very woman that crushed his soul close under a street lamp. 
Of course, as Spider-Man. 
Luckily, you hadn’t gotten in a taxi yet. He found you sitting under a street light, crying. His heart ached, wrenching in his chest. 
Standing over you, he extended a hand.
“Let me take you home, Angel.”
Even with all the shame that befell over him, Jay was gentle with you. Even though you were the source of all his troubles, he couldn’t bring himself to treat you as anything less. In his heart, you were still the you that he knew (and loved).
Crouching down, he pushed your hair out of your face, running a thumb over your wet cheek to wipe away your tears. Patting your head, he couldn’t help but coo at your pouty face. 
He didn’t like to see you cry like this.
When Jay cupped your face, you grabbed his wrist, nuzzling your cheek into his warm palm.
“Please,” you whispered.
And who was he to refuse you?
You cried into his neck the whole way home. In a way, Jay felt like a fraud. The same person that ran you away from was the one holding you. If you knew who Spider-Man was, you’d run, too. 
“Don’t wanna go inside,” you murmured into his ear once they arrived at his apartment.
Jay stroked your hair gently. “Why not?”
“Because,” you sobbed. “Because— it’ll r-remind me of him.”
The hero frowned. “Of who?”
You cried harder. “Jay—“ you stopped yourself, only holding onto him tighter. 
“[Name],” Jay whispered against the shell of your ear. “How ‘bout I stay with you out here?”
You sniffled, glassy eyes shining in the bluish moonlight. You nodded your head profusely. Much to your surprise, Jay launched the two of you up onto the roof of the apartment complex. When you looked at him sheepishly, he simply muttered, “I go here when I want to clear my head.”
Ten minutes later, all of which were just filled with you sobbing in your drunken glory, neither of you wanted to leave your current position: Jay sitting cross-legged and you on his thigh so that he could see your face. The whole time, as you cried, Jay stroked your hair, occasionally whispering a few words of reassurance in your ear.
As you calmed down, Jay cupped your cheek. You must have been beginning to sober up, because you resisted his touch, pulling away to hide your face. 
“[Name],” he said against the shell of your ear, delicate fingers grasping your chin. “[Name], look at me.”
Rich from someone who could barely look you in the eyes right now.
“Nooo,” you whined, bringing a stray strand of hair to cover your eyes. “It’s embarrassing.”
Jay cracked a grin under his mask. “What’s there to be embarrassed about?” you didn't respond. “Yer embarrassed about crying in front of Spider-Man?”
“Am not!” you shot at him, but the way you continued to hide your face told Jay everything he had to know. “H-Hey!”
Jay forced your face to turn to his. He ran his thumb across your cheek, caressing your puffy and tear-stained skin. “Talk to me, Gorgeous.” Your lips pursed into a pout. “What happened? Did someone do something to make you cry? Do I gotta fight someone?”
Yeah, yourself.
He knew the answer to that.you were going to cry again, wail about how much you hated Jay Park, how disgusted and horrified you were with Jay Park, how it was him, that bastard of a man, that made you cry. Jay knew he wasn’t emotionally prepared for what you were going to say, but he wanted to hear it from your lips for some reason. He would at least gain some closure, even if it meant rubbing salt into the wound before he was going to inevitably beat himself up over it later.
But to his surprise, you shook your head. 
“No one did anything,” you sniffled.
“B-But–”
You looked down at your hands sadly. “It was my fault.”
How could it be your fault? Jay was certain that it was his.
“I’m such a bitch,” you breathed. “He… H-He didn’t even do anything– I– I wanted him– so bad– But I pushed him away…”
Jay tightened his hold around you. “What… What are you talking about?”
“If I talk about it, I’ll start crying again,” you murmured. When Jay gave your head a soft pat, whispering, “I won’t make fun of ya if you do,” into your ear, you took a deep breath. You turned over your shoulder to gaze at him. “But you have to promise not to tell anyone though.”
It wasn’t like Jay heard you say that though.
Because he might have been too fucking enraptured by you.
The yellow-marble moon shone behind her, giving you an ethereal backlit glow. Even so, the lights of the bustling city reflected off the sparkling luster of tears collecting in your wide eyes. Your hair was endearingly disheveled, and your nose and ears were getting sensitive from the cold night air. You were probably the loveliest person he ever-
No. He should stop.
Jay extended a pinky finger. “Promise.”
You sucked in another deep breath, fiddling with the hem of your dress. 
“Me and Park… We got drunk and almost…” you trailed off, hoping that he would get what you were trying to say. He hummed, signaling that he did. You opened your mouth to continue, but frustrated, shove your face into your hands, letting out a whimper. “And then… our friends walked in on us– And– I just– Felt so embarrassed.”
Embarrassed.
That word stung.
Your eyes began to quell, and the wet sniffles started again. “I got angry, I got so– Fucking angry– and I just began yelling and h-hitting him–” you cut yourself off with a sob, to which Jay squeezed your hand.
He let you cry into his shoulder.
“He– He–” you sobbed. “He looked so hur– hurt. A-And that’s why I-I’m crying!”
Jay sunk his teeth into his bottom lip. He urged you on, rubbing circles on your back. 
You used the back of your hand to wipe your tears. “J-Jay–” His ears perked up at the sound of his name. You almost never called him by his first name. “Jay-fucking-Park makes me feel so-”
Jay braced himself.
“-weird. I-I thought I hated him… B-But–” you squeezed Jay’s hand– “I…. I think I.. I…Ugh!”
You smashed your wet face into Jay’s shoulder in frustration. In his complete and utter bewilderment (you truly didn’t hate him?) Jay let out an airy chuckle. Feeling his chest rumble, you groaned, giving him a smack.
“Y-You said you wouldn’t l-laugh!”
Jay stopped, giving your head another pat. “Sorry, sorry. Ya said that Jay makes you feel weird? Whaddya mean by that?”
You ran a hand through your hair. “Tha- That’s the problem: I don’t know!”
You looked up at him helplessly, grappling onto his wrist. “Help me, Spider-Man!”
Jay let out another airy chuckle. “I mean, how do ya feel around him?”
You glared at him incredulously. “H-He– I normally d-don’t feel anything!-- But re-recently I feel… Hot.”
“Hot?”
“Like, like I’m about to b-burst!”
Jay studied your face. “Do… Do you just hate him?”
“I-It’s not hate!”
“Then I don’t know!”
“Spiiiider-Maaaan!”
He didn’t want to say it. Even suggesting it was probably too emotionally-wrecking for the two of you.
“Do you… have a crush on him then?”
You flopped over him.
“?!”
With your body thrown over his shoulder, you shoved your face into your hands, letting out a drawn-out groan. There’s a pulse of silence. 
Jay clenched his fists. There was a lot to take in. It could be the alcohol lingering in his system, or the overwhelming emotions he felt, but he genuinely could not process anything right now. He’ll sleep on it. All he knew was that he was on-edge.
You responded to his question with an inaudible, muffled, mumble. 
From the way that you stilled against him, not even uttering a sound, it must have been an utterance to yourself, something that he wasn’t supposed to hear.
You clearly didn’t want to confront it, so he won’t force you to.
With little thought, Jay frowned while he traced shapes against your thigh, while you were still sniffling away. You two sat in a comfortable silence, soaking in the moonlight.
“Did you just draw a poop?” you blurted.
“Yeah,” Jay replied. His gloved finger, laced with mischief, traced another figure– consisting of two circles and a long tube.
“I don’t even want to say what you just drew!”
Jay snorted. Wrapping his arms around your hips, the hero hoisted you up momentarily, before lifting you off his shoulder and onto his lap. It was only when you let out a short squeak when he realized that your legs were now draped on either side of his hips.
He deadpanned.
This scene has happened before.
But instead of you pushing him away and punching his chest, you simply giggled, cold hands coming up to grab his masked face. Jay was startled when you pulled his face closer to yours.
“[Na–”
You tried to squeeze his cheek under the mask. When you felt plush, warm skin, your face lit up. “Woahhh!”
“Why’re you so surprised?”
You squished his masked cheek again. “You’re real!”
Another thing about you that enamored him: your naïvete and nearly innocent nature (but only sometimes, when you weren’t trying to kick his ass).
Jay chuckled. “Of course I am. Didja think that I was fake?”
You hummed. Then ,you cupped his cheek, before pedicured fingers slithered toward the juncture between his ear and neck. You fingered the cloth there. Jay’s breath caught in his throat.
“I’ve always wondered who’s behind this mask,” you thought aloud, caressing his neck. Your voice was low and light, like a whisper.
Jay felt like a middle school boy; he was getting nervous just by how close you were to him. He could smell your perfume, and even your breath against his neck. His heart hammered in his chest.
“You…” he rasped, voice deep. “You don’t wanna know.”
“But I do!” you giggled. “Do I know you in real life?”
“Err… I can’t answer that.”
“Awwww.”
You stared at him, before cracking another grin. “I don’t care who you are in real life. I’d still be your friend.”
Jay quirked a brow. He slunk his arm back around your waist, pulling you in closer. 
“What if I was someone you hated?” he murmured. His dark eyes locked onto yours. Such an indulgent question. He was opening himself up to get hurt, but for some reason, he didn’t care.
“I wouldn’t care,” you breathed. “I’d love you either way.”
He knew that was a lie.
That night, you fell asleep in his arms up on the rooftop.
When he snuck back into his apartment, he placed you down on his bed, tucked you in, and whispered, “Good night, Pretty.”
The moment that he shut that bedroom door, Jay felt weak to his knees. His heart rate was picking up, nose suddenly becoming runny. He was in the middle of chanting, “Don’t cry,” to himself when the first tear rolled down his face.
A hand reached up to clasp his mouth tightly as he squeezed his eyes shut. He couldn’t wake you or Wonnie up.
Jay didn’t know how long he cried sitting with his back against the bedroom door, but when he was done, he felt dizzy.
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Jay went on an early morning patrol.
He didn’t get much sleep, but that sleep was indeed helpful in clearing his mind.
As he swung from building to building, occasionally scaring off criminals and sketchy people alike, his mind was occupied with thoughts about last night. It was hard to rationalize last night, and while it still was hard, the cool morning air kissed his cheeks just enough to give him the calm to think.
Okay, so, she doesn't think I’m disgusting, I didn’t actually do anything wrong, she was just embarrassed. I make her feel weird, and she might actually hate me. She says that she would still love me if I was… me, but like, “me” as in “Spider-Man” and the other “me” as me, Jay Park, and–
God, this was frustrating.
Even if you didn’t blame him, there was no way he could face you or any of your friends as Jay. His friends were blabbermouths. Everyone and their mothers probably knew by now the events that transpired.
His anguish built up. So much so that even when Jay was disarming a knife-bearing mugger, he couldn’t bring himself to make a few snarky remarks. His body was moving on its own, jumping around and soaring through the air. His mind was in a world of its own, running and drilling with little break, just mulling over all the possibilities.
He didn’t notice the time (three hours later) until all the delis and flower stores began opening up for the day. Plopping down onto one of the hedges on top of a building, Jay only realized how out-of-it he was; his legs were plagued with an abnormal ache, and his chest pushed out air using labored lungs.
Jay pulled off his mask, letting the cool air hit his face. He took a deep breath, peering down at the quiet bustle beginning to spread throughout the city.
He was about to sit there and contemplate, probably reflect on himself or simply relax. 
However, an ear-splitting ringing sound cut through the air.
Beep beep!
“Shit,” he muttered, slipping his phone out of the seamless pocket attached to his suit’s leg. “Whaddya need, Wonnie?”
“Mayday, mayday!” his brother whisper-yelled into his ear.  “Code red! I repeat: code red!”
“Why’re you whispering?” Jay jumped to his feet. He sensed the urgency in Wonnie’s voice on the other line, slipping back into his mask. “What happened?”
“I’m at school right now,” Wonnie hissed. “It’s your girlfriend!”
The man prepared for mobility, rubbing his wrists. “I don’t have a girlfrie– And why are you calling me at school right now?”
“Aghh!” Wonnie cried. “It’s [Name]!”
“Did something happen to her?” Jay’s voice immediately switched to a serious tone. He flexed his muscles, suddenly becoming hyper-alert of his surroundings. His eyes scanned the surrounding area. 
Jay heard fumbling on the other side of the phone, presumably Wonnie almost getting caught by a teacher or something. “Okay, okay. Downtown– the skyscraper along the greenbelt– yes, that one! Doctor Discotheque; I think he’s hanging her!”
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Jay grumbled. 
He was on top of a retail store. If Jay’s urban design professor was correct, then there should be a big stretch of apartments in the next few hundred kilometers. In the center should be the CBD. The only issue was that those apartments were dense. If he wants to drill past them in time, then he would need to be quick.
With just his enhanced spider-sight, Jay could see all those hundred kilometers ahead, straight to the central business district. Doctor Discotheque was standing at the top of the downtown skyscraper, and apparently he ditched the massive mechanical body that the “high-tech science shit” gifted him. Instead, the supervillain wore a sleek spandex suit. Doctor Discotheque was laughing villainously, because next to him was a crane hanging right at the edge of the building. The silhouette that was dangling from the crane was you yourself.
Jay heaved. 
Let’s fucking do this.
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“Spider-Man did it better, by the way.”
“If you keep talking, I will drop you off the side of this building.”
You couldn’t even be surprised anymore. Somehow getting kidnapped by a supervillain was less outlandish than making out with you enemy twice.
This morning, when you were just starting to leave for class, the window shot open, revealing a goofy-looking villain in purple spandex that he totally didn’t rip off of Spider-Man. Seriously, it was the tackiest outfit ever. He had a sparkly panel as a recurring design motif and it seriously was not good.
Nowy ou were suspended 400 meters in the air, with your feet fastened to the lift of a construction crane. You crossed your arms over your chest. 
You should be scared. You really should. For God’s sake, you were dangling upside down over a busy road from an unsteady crane on top of a building that was 400 meters tall. 
But the sight of a supervillain wearing a sparkly suit was too unserious. If there was anything to be afraid of, it would be Doctor Discotheque’s little villain costume.
“Nice outfit, Sparkle Boy.”
And besides, you knew that Spider-Man would save you.
Doctor Discotheque ignored your not-so-subtle jab at his suit, too busy scanning the sky for a certain red and blue - clad superhero.
In fact, that really pissed you off.
How dare he, a sloppily-dressed, dilapidated-looking, old geezer, kidnap you and threaten your life? And when you tried to talk to him, he just ignored you? Such a poorly-designed supervillain. 2/10 from you.
“Hey!” you yelled from where you were dangling. “Hey, you! Purple Wurple!”
Doctor Discotheque ignored you again.
You huffed. “You motherfucker! How dare you ignore me!”
Nothing from him.
“Hey, answer me! Doctor Disgusting!”
Finally, the supervillain snapped his head at you.
“It’s Doctor Discotheque, not Doctor Disgusting,” he spat.
You snorted. “It’s a good thing you became a supervillain, and not a villain-namer, because wow, ‘Doctor Discotheque’ might be the worst deed you’ve ever committed.”
Doctor Discotheque narrowed his eyes at you, before a wide smirk spread across his face. “I had higher standards for Spider-Man.”
When you glared at him, he continued.
“I can’t believe he could date such a wretched person like you.”
“Date?”
“You seem more surprised at that than me kidnapping you,” Doctor Discotheque muttered. He observed your scrunched expression, his grin widening. “I saw you and Spider-Man getting cozy last night on the rooftop. Never knew that he would go for a woman as insufferable as you.”
“Hey, we’re not–”
“And, if you don’t shut your mouth,” the villain spoke through tight lips, “I’ll throw you off this building.”
Before you could retort, the man’s hand reached for the remote console that controlled the crane. Gloved hand palming the joystick, Doctor Discotheque let out a low chuckle, before giving it an experimental pull. Immediately, the lift of the crane shakily lowered.
“H-Hey–!”
He played around with the controls, philandering around as if it was some kind of children’s toy.
“You– You little bitch!” you, though shaky from the mobility, yelled. “F-Fuck you and your sp–sparkly spandex!
Doctor Discotheque let out another low chuckle, before pressing a button. You weren't sure about the mechanics of a crane remote console, but it started shaking the lift from side to side. The crane must have been old, because the parts were moving so shakily. The lift was quite literally rocking in the sky, swinging you around slowly.
“One more word from you, and I’ll be releasing you,” Doctor Discotheque mused. “And by the way, it’s not spandex. It’s lycra.”
You were seriously considering shutting up. Your stomach did flips now that you looked down at the vast expanse of the city below you. The sound of cars rushing across the road, as well as the distressed crowd that was now gathering under the skyscraper, police cars with their loud sirens, and camera shutters did not calm you in the slightest. It was a miracle that your glasses were still intact at this point.
And still, Spider-Man was nowhere in sight.
Wait.
Spider-Man.
Your eyes flickered toward the villain.
There must be a reason that Doctor Discotheque kidnapped you. Other than the fact that he was, in fact, a supervillain, there must be another reason for his evildoing.
Why would someone want to kidnap a broke college student, unless there was something to gain from it?
There truly was only one thing notable about Doctor Discotheque, other than his horrible costume. And it was that he had major beef with Spider-Man. Unfortunately for him, Doctor Discotheque let it slip that he thought you and Spider-Man were dating. 
It was a perfect plan.
Use Spider-Man’s girlfriend against him.
The only issue was that Spider-Man had not yet arrived on the scene yet. Heck, no one even knew if he knew of the situation yet.
Doctor Discotheque wasn’t going to do anything to you. Not until Spider-Man made an appearance.
“Y’know, Doctor Disgusting,” you shouted. “You suck!”
Doctor Discotheque deadpanned. “Foolish woman! Did you not hear what I just said–”
“Drop me,” you demanded. You thrashed around, flailing your arms so that the rope fastening you to the lift shook. “Drop me, you fucking bitch! I dare you!”
Doctor Discotheque stilled. He said nothing, just simply grumbling something under his breath and dropping the remote control to the concrete ground.
You watched him, proud of yourself.
But there were bigger problems up ahead now.
Spider-Man was nowhere in sight. This maniac might actually do something to you if Spider-Man didn’t show up on time. With the size of this commotion– road blocks, traffic issues, a giant crowd pooling at the base of the skyscraper– it was no doubt that the spider-like hero should be on his way.
“Hey, fuckface!” 
A familiar confident and charming voice cut through the air suddenly.
Lo and behold, it was the great Spider-Man.
“Spider-Man-!” you blurted, relief washing over you.
Doctor Discotheque let out a laugh. That laugh became a cackle, before he was howling. Except, it wasn’t really laughing out of amusement, but him pushing air from his chest to create a sound. 
“So you’ve decided to show yourself, Spider-Man,” Doctor Discotheque rasped. He snatched the crane remote control off the ground, and fiddled with the controls just enough to shake you. You let out a small shriek. “One wrong move and this little girlfriend of yours will be dropped.”
Spider-Man clenched his fists.
“So choose wisely,” the villain furbished the remote with his fingers. “Or you'll be toppling to your death in no-time.”
Jay had to be quick with this. 
All eyes were on him, and you were genuinely endangered.
Doctor Discotheque’s main goal was and had always been to humiliate Spider-Man. Jay had no idea what types of things he had hidden up his sleeve, but if he was going far enough to endanger a civilian, it must be bad. 
Like his name would imply, Doctor Discotheque had the ability to generate sounds that transpired the ordinary human sonic level. A.K.A. Doctor Discotheque had a loud voice.
An ability like that would be extremely dangerous, considering that large sound waves are capable of killing people. Except, Jay had a crucial piece of information, thanks to the invaluable research of Wonnie: Doctor Discotheque’s body was not suited for his own ability.
While Doctor Discotheque was capable of pushing air from his diaphragm and vibrating his vocal cords, his own ears could not take it. Usually, those with superhuman abilities would have different bodily functions to accommodate the harm that the abilities would have. For example, those with fire abilities would have cooler and fire-resistant bodies in order to sustain the aptitude. Unfortunately, Doctor Discotheque did not have that.
That meant that while Doctor Discotheque could do basically anything with his voice, he wouldn’t, because that would bring physical harm to his own self, too.
The only issue: if defeated, Doctor Discotheque might take on a “if I die, I’ll take everyone with me” attitude.
Jay had to be strategic.
“If you don’t attack, Spider-Man,” Doctor Discotheque started. The villain sucked in a large breath, “I’ll destroy your eardrums!”
That last part was at least 90 decibels. Jay could tell by the way that Doctor Discotheque himself winced at the sound.
What a dumbass.
“I can’t believe I have to deal with you again, man.”
Jay shot a web to the water tanks behind Doctor Discotheque, thrusting him across the rooftop, which allowed him to extend his right leg in order to land a kick at the villain. The villain dodged his kick by stepping to the side. However, Jay’s lightning-fast reflexes saw that one coming, so he swerved his body to the right to attempt another kick. His elevated heel succeeded in scraping the crown of Doctor Discotheque’s head.
The villain stumbled backward, but continued to evade Jay. Shooting a web, the hero attempted to bring Doctor Discotheque to him, but he dodged it once again. Jay had to give him credit: he had pretty good reflexes.
Jay shot a web to the hedge the villain was next to, hoping to launch himself at him, but before he could, Doctor Discotheque landed a punch square on Jay’s nose.
“Ow! What the fuck, man?” Jay’s eyes watered at the impact. How embarrassing.
Jay continued his venture to wrap this guy in his webs, shooting multiple webs at once. A few of them landed, but Doctor Discotheque was able to dodge them.
“Come on, old man!” Jay grumbled. Finally, one of his webs effectively landed on the villain’s shoulder, allowing for Jay to grapple him toward him. Before Doctor Discotheque could react, the masked hero blasted him with a bunch of more webs, slathering him in those sticky white strings. 
The supervillain struggled against Spider-Man’s iron grip. Even with the tight webs binding him, Jay could feel him suck in a deep breath, an indicator that he was about to utilize that loud voice of his.
If Jay didn’t move now, his eardrums might actually get bursted.
Jay jumped away from Doctor Discotheque, except he kept his webs attached to him so that his previous binding work would not be rendered useless. Jay whipped his head around, eyeing your dangling figure.
“Cover your ears!” he shouted, before doing so himself. Doctor Discotheque let out a shrill screech, and although the sound was only large enough to send a vibration through Jay’s body, that was because Jay had the aid of superhuman abilities.
Everything else around them? Absolutely not.
The glass of surrounding buildings shattered, while the metal crane that was dangling you shook profusely. You screamed.
Shit, shit, shit.
While Jay was distracted, Doctor Discotheque squirmed free of the webs, crawling to the remote console he dropped to the ground earlier.
“Let’s play with your girlfriend,” the villain glowered. With that, he began tinkering with the controls of the console, shaking you around on the lift. This time, though, he was literally pressing all the buttons, giving you little time to anticipate what was coming next. The movement of the crane was unadulterated, so you shrieked in fear. 
“Are you gonna save her, Spider-Man?” Doctor Discotheque mocked.
Jay clenched his fists. It was a lot more important to save you before anything else. He could deal with this maniac later.
“Don’t you fucking dare, Spider-Man!” Much to his surprise, it was you yelling at him. “Don’t worry about me, just kick this lunatic’s ass!”
“How adorable!” Doctor Discotheque cooed. 
Jay wasn’t about to let a civilian, much less you, be in a position of severe danger. But Doctor Discotheque has been getting too confident and talking out of his ass too much.
Maybe he could do both.
If Jay could debilitate Doctor Discotheque, he could take the remote control. If he takes the remote control, he could easily save you.
When Jay started toward Doctor Discotheque, the villain let out a laugh. “You’re just going to ignore your little girlfriend like tha–”
“Shut– up!” Jay knocked him down with a kick to the cheek. 
When Doctor Discotheque was knocked to the ground, he dropped the remote control, too. However, the remote dropped face-down, so with the impact of its collision, it bursted and shattered into several pieces. The crane began to malfunction, waving around its lift erratically. The excessive movement made the ear-splitting sound of rust rubbing against itself. 
Not good. 
The head of the engineering department at the university always warned them about rusty construction tools. 
Oh, not good at all.
You screamed. Still pinning Doctor Discotheque’s hands to his sides, Jay grunted, snapping his head to you.
“Don- Don’t– Ah!-” you breathed. “Don’t worry about me!”
Jay clenched his jaw.
“I-I’m serious!” you squeezed your eyes shut. “I’m not sc-scared, or anything!”
No. That wasn’t true.
All those times that he carried you through the sky.
“Stop making fun of me, Spider-Man!” you lightly slapped his chest. “I’m just…– Eep!--” you squeezed his bicep again– “Scared of heights.”
The crane squeaked, as its spasms slowed. Except, its slowing down meant nothing. It only continued creaking. It was unstable, and by the looks of it, even Jay couldn’t guarantee that it wouldn’t snap off.
Doctor Discotheque threw his head back against the concrete ground, letting out another chortle. Before he could say anything, Jay raised his fist and punched him straight in the diaphragm. The villain groaned in pain, and before he could recover, Jay planted another punch in the abdomen, and another one square in the nose.
A punch in the diaphragm should debilitate him for just enough time to save you.
Jay swung toward the lift of the crane.
You were tied to it by the feet. The only way to get you to the roof was to operate the crane so that it was hanging over the building, or untie you. The former was impossible now, so the second option was the only option.
“I-I told you to–!” 
“[Name], you yell a lot.” Jay didn’t realize how out-of-character it was for Spider-Man to say that, but currently, he was plagued with urgency. He had to be serious.
You shut your mouth immediately.
“[Name], I’m going to untie you,” Jay instructed. “You are going to fall.”
“Wh-What?”
Jay was already untying the ropes. Which was oddly easy. 
Why were the ropes so loosely tied? 
He clenched his teeth.
He was going to destroy that maniac for putting you in harm’s way.
“When I untie your feet, you’re going to fall,” Jay asserted. When he heard your breath hitch, he sighed. His gaze on you softened. “Don’t worry, Pretty. I’ll catch you.”
There was one loop left to unknot. Your eyes widened as you felt your feet slowly slip.
“You ready?” Jay stared into your eyes. 
“Y-Yeah.”
He sensed the fear in your voice. “I got you, Baby.”
He untied the last knot. Immediately, you began falling down multiple stories. Your arms thrashed, and your eyes squeezed shut. You let out a loud, yet strained scream.
But then you stopped. Because you felt strong arms grip your waist.
“Spider-Man!” you cried, pressing your face into his neck, holding him tighter than you ever had before. Your eyes were watery with fear.
“What did I say, Angel?” You could hear the grin in his voice. “I got you.”
Jay swung the two of you up to the top of the skyscraper. He let you down at a roof-like structure at the very back of the roof.
“Stay here.”
“But you–”
“[Name], I need you to stay here,” Jay said, squeezing your arm. “Please.”
You sighed. “Fine.”
With that, he swung back to the front to fight Doctor Discotheque.
At that point, Doctor Discotheque was still coughing and heaving from the punch to the diaphragm, but was able to stand.
“I’m surprised you could still stand, you old geezer,” Jay mocked.
Now that you were safe, he regained his humor.
“Spider-Man, you may have beaten me three times, but not a fourth ti– AGH!”
Jay punched him. “Shut up!”
Then, Doctor Discotheque kicked Jay in the stomach. From there, they engaged in hand-to-hand combat. It was a shaky fight: Doctor Discotheque had decent strength, so his punches were indeed strong, but Jay had lightning reflexes that allowed him to dodge. Soon, Doctor Discotheque backed the hero up against the electricity pole. 
“Little punks like you–” Doctor Discotheque, finally, landed a successful punch to Jay’s cheek, eliciting a groan- “Need to know your place.”
Doctor Discotheque took a deep breath.
Fuck.
He was going to scream.
He couldn’t scream loud enough to kill or severely harm Jay because he would be inflicting that same pain to himself as well. But he could definitely debilitate him with a single scream.
Doctor Discotheque opened his mouth, his chest rising and falling to widen his vocal cords. 
Just as the villain was going to scream Jay deaf, he freed his hand from Doctor Discotheque’s grip. Jay punched the villain’s mouth. More specifically, he shoved his fist in his mouth.
Doctor Discotheque sunk his teeth into Jay’s fists, but he just ignored him. Instead, Jay pushed his fist deeper into his mouth, further lodging it in.
With the agility of a spider, he attached a web to the villain. With nimble, yet confident, fingers, Jay spurted webs to bind his hands and feet together. In between, he landed punch after punch and kick after kick at the man.
“Just” punch “go” punch “away” punch “already!”
The villain was now biting into Jay’s fist so hard now that he was sure the fabric was ripping. 
“Fuck!” Jay kicked him square in the abdomen, sending him flying across the rooftop. When he looked at his fist, it was bleeding with teeth marks. Whatever.
Jay approached Doctor Discotheque’s keeling figure. The villain coughed blood, hair frazzled with sweat and sticking to his forehead. The superhero stood over him.
Then, Doctor Discotheque started sobbing.
?!
“I… I did it all for my son,” the villain quivered, tears streaming down his cheeks. “My son… My beautiful son…”
Son.
Jay never had a father. The only person closest to a father was his uncle, who already died, leaving him to take care of his kid brother. 
“My– My so-son,” Doctor Discotheque sobbed. “He– He always wanted a c-cool dad.”
???
“I th-thought if I fought you… he would th-think his dad w-was cool!”
Jay took a deep breath. “And you can be a cool dad. If you just spent time with him instead of fighting me.”
“N-No,” Doctor Discotheque sniffled. “H-He’s obs–  obsessed with Spider-Ma-Man.”
Jay sighed. He crouched down beside the man. 
“Doctor Discotheque,” he began. “I didn’t have a father. I’d do anything to just spend time with him. Your son will love you ten times more if you were just there for him.”
“R-Really?” Doctor Discotheque looked up at him with watery eyes.
“Yes.”
There was a pulse of silence. Doctor Discotheque stared at Jay, before his fingers twitched. Before he could do anything, a loud clang! rang through the air.
“[Name]…!”
You, with a metal rod, wacked Doctor Discotheque in the back of his head, sending him forward.
“I don’t fucking care!” you spat at him. You were breathing heavily, before your eyes met Jay’s.
“[Name]... what are you–”
You dropped the metal rod. You grabbed the villain’s face, slapping him. 
“I don’t fucking care about you and your son!” Slap. “You wreak havoc on this city and you expect us to forgive you because you have a tragic sob story?!” Slap.“You almost killed me!” Slap.  “You’re wearing sparkly spandex!” Slap. “No wonder your son doesn’t think you’re cool!” Slap. “You bitch!”
“[Name], that’s enough…!”
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The aftermath of the incident was nothing to sneeze at.
Your face, as well as Doctor Discotheque, was plastered all over the news. Speaking of which, Doctor Discotheque was revealed to be some middle-aged professor, and was taken into custody for a court hearing.
It had only been a few hours ago since Spider-Man dropped you home. Meanwhile, he said that he had some “business” to attend to. Probably interviews and reporters.
It was the middle of the afternoon by now. The apartment was completely silent. Wonnie was still at school. And… Jay. 
You bit your lip as you remembered what happened the night before. 
You felt your neck and cheeks heat up. You really kissed him, touched him, whispered lewd words into his ear– Oh my god, you had to apologize to him! 
You brought two fingers to your lip.
His lips were chapped and the lip-piercing pressed against your lip in a way that was almost painful, but for some reason, the thought just sent butterflies in your stomach. His hands were so big, holding onto you with a desperate grip.
You shoved your face into your hands, squeezing your eyes shut.
How embarrassing!
How were you going to face Jay Park? 
Why were you worried?
“Do you… have a crush on him then?” Spider-Man’s words echoed through your mind.
Did you?
It would make a great deal of sense. 
Why you were feeling this way, why you got so angry last night, why you’d  been thinking about him at night for the past five years. 
Your heart began speeding up at the thought of having a crush on Jay Park. Not just the absurdity of the idea, but because you felt so childish. You were an adult now. How could you have such a petulant crush?
But then again, Jay Park made you feel childish. Like you were some middle schooler, all immature and giggly.
Before you could dig yourself further into a hole, a tapping came from the window. Stalking over to the sill, you spotted a red-and-blue-clad hero. 
He was lowering himself upside-down in his iconic stance, hanging onto a single spider web.
“Spider-Man!” you exclaimed.
“Hey there, Angel,” the hero grinned behind the mask when you opened the window. He was about to climb through when the unexpected happened. “H-Hey, what are you–!”
You grasped his upside-down face. You tore down his mask just enough to reveal the bottom half of his face, and pressed your lips onto his.
It was a chaste kiss, not meant to be sexual. Simply innocent.
Except, it felt familiar.
It was a soft kiss, but you could feel the hero’s lips. They were chapped, and there was a cold piece of metal on his lip. Like a lip-piercing.
When you pulled away, you gazed at Spider-Man’s half-exposed face, which wore an awkward, boxy smile.
“That’s what you get for saving me all those times,” you breathed.
Spider-Man’s lips curved. “What are you, a fairytale princess?”
You grinned. “You saved me like I was one.”
“Just my duty, Gorgeous.”
You caressed Spider-Man’s skin. Just like you expected, he had a strong jaw and sharp nose. His cheeks were a honey-tan color, with a twinge of red. 
And most notably, his lips.
Chapped, pink, but plump.
And pierced.
Her thumb pressed onto the piercing. 
His breath hitched.
You've seen that lip-piercing before.
You've stared at a certain somebody’s lips for long enough to recognize it.
No. It can’t be.
You touched his face, tracing his features slowly. 
“Spider-Man,” you drew out your syllables. “Can you stand up normally? I want to check something.”
The hero silently complied, climbing through the window sill. When he stood in front of you, swiping a tongue over his pierced bottom lip, you swallowed down hard.
Please.
In one, quick movement, you pushed Spider-Man against the wall, sliding your hands up his chest. Your hands slithered to his toned arms, grappling onto his wrists to pin above his head.
Your heart was about to fall out of yourc hest. You were breathless, eyes trained onto the hero’s lips.
A pedicured hand came up to grasp his chin.
“Are you Park?” you asked in a near-whisper. “Please. Please tell me. Are you Jay Park?”
Spider-Man stilled in your hold. He sucked in a sharp breath, taking his bottom lip between his teeth.
“Please,” you whispered.
As you gazed at him with wide, pleading eyes, Spider-Man was able to free one of his hands. Slowly, he grasped the tight material of his mask. He pulled the fabric up and over his eyes, before freeing his entire head and face.
What was revealed?
Dark hair. Dark eyes. Tan skin. A sharp nose. And that goddamn lip piercing.
Jay Park.
You audibly gasped. Your hold on his one wrist weakened, dropping all the way when you brought both hands up to clasp your gaping mouth.
Jay looked at you with an ashamed expression, yet his eyes were locked onto yours. He parted his lips to say something, but no sound came out.
This entire time… it was him?
Your body moved on its own.
You grabbed his face, and smashed your lips against his.
At first, Jay was completely still. 
But after a few seconds, he let out a low grunt against your lips, slithering his arms around your waist. That earned a small squeal from you, giving him the opportunity to shove his tongue in your mouth. Your hands roamed, sliding up and down his chest before resting in his hair. When you pulled on his dark locks, he groaned softly, allowing you to push his tongue out and put yours into his mouth.
Jay gave your waist a warning squeeze, as if to say, “Don’t try that on me.” But you only smirked against his lips, sliding your hand up his head to grab a fistful of his hair and pulling it.
When you pulled away from each other, you were breathless, both flushed in the face with blown-out, desire-filled eyes. You stared into each other’s eyes for what felt like an eternity.
“You…” you blinked. Then, your face contorted. With a fist, you began hitting his chest. “It was you this whole time? It was… It was you who carried me home, who took me out, who saved me, who– who comforted me when I cried!
“Why didn’t you listen to me when I told you to not worry about me?!” you continued pounding his chest. “And why the fuck would you try to sympathize with that lunatic?! You could have been hurt– He might have pulled out a knife, or something! I was so worried that he’d pull a fast one and try to stab you, you stupid, stupid, stupid–!”
It was Jay’s turn to smash his lips against yours.
Almost immediately, you stopped all of your movement, melting into the kiss.
“You’re-” Jay mumbled against your lips- “You’re always such a fucking brat.”
He laced his fingers with hers, holding your hands tightly. "Always givin' me hell, you know that?"
He was rough, a lot more rough than you imagined, but it wasn't like you were opposed to it. You tried to say something, squeezing his hands. You got a few sounds out, but they were all muffled by his kissing.
“Shut up,” Jay breathed against your lips. “Just shut the fuck up and let me kiss you.”
You whined, causing him to smirk.
This kiss was much more heated than any previous ones you’ve had with him. And also much messier.
When you finally pulled away, your lips were swollen, connected by a single string of spit.
“Oh my god,” you mewled, gripping onto Jay’s bicep. “Fuck, please, Jay.”
Jay swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. You never called him by his name like this. “‘Please’ what, Angel?”
“I want you,” you looked up at him with wide and glassy eyes, the same ones that he’s seen in his guiltiest dreams. “Oh my god, please, I want you so bad, Jay.”
“Are you gonna yell and hit me like last time?” he teased, hands already sliding down to grip your hips.
You pressed a wet kiss to his jaw. “Only if you won’t leave me in the middle of a hallway drunk like last time.”
You both stared at each other for a few moments, with cocked brows and narrowed eyes, neither of you wanting to relent your pride. Then, at the same time, broke out into a fit of laughter.
“I have high expectations for you, Park.”
“I won’t disappoint you, you fuckin’ nerdo freak.”
FIN.
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part 1 here
915 notes · View notes
vampiretendencies · 1 year
Text
request; jj blurb idea! wearing his clothes for the first time/him seeing you in his clothes for the first time. maybe showering at the chateau but you didn’t bring anything so he gives you a tshirt! hehe literally kicking my feet under the table rn
pairing; jj x fem!reader
warnings; fluff, maybe suggestive
authors note; i was doing the same when you sent this anon in love with this idea ! (req a blurb from below w what’s left on the prompt list, or send in blurb, imagines, & fic ideas) a few more hours until season 3!
other ways to say i love you prompt list
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The opportunity to wear JJ’s clothes tainted your thoughts undoubtedly.
Not only because it belonged to him but because everything about JJ’s wardrobe, is so JJ.
No problem with repping any and everything that belonged to your infamous boyfriend. Wether it be wearing his pair of boxers as shorts, a wife beater to slumber in, or a random tee shirt to go out in broad day light.
You just longed for his material to be around your figure.
Congenial and adequate, soft yet comfortable— all elements of his clothes that are alike with JJ.
They are his clothes, after all.
“JJ let go of me!”
Stood smack in the the middle of JJ’s room at the chateau. His window partially open, wind bristling from the night air, making its way through. Whilst the hard wood floors beneath the two of you tracked the imprints of your feet. Bed rolled around in, from you forcing JJ off of you then— merely to let you get up and off of the bed to shower, that you did. Since you came out though, wearing little clothing, (given that there wasn't much of your own items lying around at the Chateau) he hasn't let you be.
He encapsulates you with his sinewy arms, body swallowing you whole. Whilst you forcefully push your hands against his broad, shirtless chest— the skin mellow and thick. Indentations of your miniature hands marking his skin, like your were a rag doll; screaming for dear life.
All JJ could muster was a low, raspy chuckle.
“Say you won’t leave.”
JJ wanted to make love to you all day long.
Not sex.
But emotionally.
To emotionally make love, to have and hold. A day full of luster, every millisecond spent around or with you. To confide in and maybe even shrink you and put you in his pocket.
A keepsake.
“You know I can’t, I don’t have another change of clothes.”
Behind every ‘can’t’ JJ miraculously finds a way, opportunity at hand to see you clad in something of his.
“Lets find you something of mine?”
JJ flicks his tongue, peering down at you due to the fact that he knows he’s won and you aren’t moving a muscle. His hands maneuver themselves to the lower part of your ass, hands habitually grasp the masses with a squeeze of his hands.
“Are you gonna’ give me something to wear then or what?”
You hid your secret giddiness inside, not wanting to be the one to initiate this sentiment— things seemingly working themselves out anyway.
“Actually, baby … just fuckin’ walk around naked … s’even better.”
He acknowledges the glint in your eye, possibly even a twitch that says, ‘get me some damn clothes before I wring your neck.’
“Okay okay, whatcha’ thinkin’ a little Heywards t-shirt action … Bait Shop shirt … ?”
He let go of you distastefully, instantly salivating for the contact again. Walking over to the wooden drawers of his dresser, pulling out multiple options— signaling you to come over and pick.
“Surprise me.”
And you turn around, facing the emptiness of his room, that wasn’t his room, but nonetheless. Rummaging was heard as he hummed and mumbled minuscule things to himself.
“Turn around, pretty girl.”
An off-black brownish t-shirt is thrown into your hands. A decor in the upper left side that read ‘Sex Wax Est 2005’, font circular and embellished with stars on either end.
“Your turn-“
He was already turning around, the gentlemen that he prided on being. You grinned at the cotton beneath your digits, bringing it up to your nose— though it had been washed, his powerful musk still retained it. The silky sensation of yeasty beer and a freshly rolled blunt encompassed your senses.
“Need more time?”
“Just a second, J.”
If only he knew your fixation was obsessive beforehand.
“I’ll just be here … y’know ... missin' my girl."
Feet away, physical touch being his love language fully had a choke hold on him per usual.
After you were done with your inspection you pulled the thin material of your cropped cami past your shoulders, bra clasped tight to your back. Leaving you to remove those lacey pocketed shorts that adorned your body; his shirt lazily pulled past your head, drowning you in its bigger size, falling just to your mid thigh.
The sole way to sleep with JJ disclosed.
You felt more his than you ever had in the past; claiming his array of bib and tucker with exuberance.
His baby suffocating in him.
You cleared your throat gesturing for him to turn around, his mouth gaping open as he's awe struck; open long enough that you were impressed something didn't fly in it.
"Shit you look better than me!"
Ogle eyes whilst his mouth formed a tight-lipped smile, stomach churning and insides wavering at the woman he chose to take part in his life with him.
It may be a shirt to most, but with his person inside of it made it all the more nostalgic, heart growing tender.
"C'mere gotta get a better look at you."
Following suit you step forward to him, lips instantly connecting with your jaw with pure infatuation.
"S'perfect baby."
"Yeah? Think I can pass as the new JJ Maybank?" In the same position the two of you were in minutes ago, except grins are wider and souls aching all the more for eachother; and you mocked him.
"Pass me a beer and a J."
4K notes · View notes
mapileonxputellas · 23 days
Text
Beckham II: 3 Nerves
The third part is finally here! I hope you enjoy.
Masterlist can be found here.
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9th February 2023
“Breaking news this lunch time, Sarina Weigman had named her squad for the Arnold Clark cup and included in the squad for the first time in nearly 4 years is Y/N Beckham.” England squads weren’t typically breaking news on the main news channels but this was no ordinary squad announcement. “Widely considered as one of the best players on the planet, Beckham has not been including in an England squad since the 2019 World Cup and her return dominated the press conference.”
Squad announcement press conferences are usually comminated by a few stories, the surprise inclusions, the ones who don’t quite make the cut. However when the list was read out it was immediately clear what all the questions would be about today as the eyes of world football turned to Sarina.
“Sarina can you tell us more about Beckham’s inclusion? Why has this decision been taken now after 4 years?”
“I know you’re all probably very interested in that so I’ll try and answer all of your questions. This hasn’t been a simple process for either party, I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t been watching her since I became England manager but it’s not that simple and we had to respect the fact that Y/N did not want to be called up. Over the past few weeks I’ve been working closer with her and we’ve agreed that now is the right time to see if we can make progress.”
“The squad has changed a lot since then but there are still players who would were in the squad in 2019, have you spoken to them about this?”
“I have not, I’d like to think that all players support each other and I know my players well enough to know that they will do all they can to make Y/N feel welcome in this environment both on and off the pitch.”
“Do you have any concerns around her desire to play for England and play for the badge. Will she have lost that fight in the past four years?”
“I can not prove that to you and I guess none of us will know the answer until she plays for England again but I would not pick any player I had those concerns about. I’ve watcher her play a lot for Barcelona and over this past year especially I’ve seen a freedom to her play. I just hope that we can all see that side of her in an England shirt.”
“David, were you shocked when the announcement was made?”
“I mean obviously we spoke about prior to the announcement but when she told me I wasn’t exactly shocked. It just annoyed me that people questioned her mentally because she is so strong now.”
…..
Everyone could tell you were anxious. Since the announcement on Thursday you’d been quieter than usual in training, your usual sweet laughter which your teammates loved had been replaced by a strained giggle and they could see you’d been putting pressure on yourself in every department.
Everything had to be perfect.
In the four days since your decision had been made public you’d received support from all your teammates but you could see they were also worried. Many of them had been here when you joined, they’d seen the aftermath and many of them had been your shoulder to lean on for months after.
Many of them watched on now as you retreated into your room, barely giving a second glance to the games currently taking place in the dining room, a tradition you were a usual member of the night before an away game.
Alexia and Mapi had noticed the changes just like everyone else, the three of you had a strong connection both on and off the pitch. Alexia had become an older sister figure to you and Mapi was your platonic soul mate. They knew your habits unlike anyone else and when the notebook you used for anxious tattoo scribblings had been out the entire journey to Mallorca it was clear your mind was elsewhere.
“You grab the pillows.”
“I’ll grab the blankets.”
The two of them scurried off to their own rooms, finding their entrusted items before meeting back at the door which they knew you would be behind. You wouldn’t have gone outside, your shy nature meant you struggled to have confidence in new cities, preferring to explore with others rather than alone as the sun went down.
Alexia knocked on the door, a moment of panic striking as they thought you weren’t going to answer before the door creaked open. Your wide-eyed figure stood in the crack, still in the tracksuit you’d travelled in rather than pyjamas.
“What’s going on?” The tree of you quite often spent the nights in each other’s hotel rooms, though those meetings were usually pre-planned.
Only you knew from the worried expressions on their faces this wasn’t a call to watch the latest film that had been released. “We’re worried about you.”
“I’m fine.”
You should have known that answer was never going to satisfy them. “Please can we come in.”
It wasn’t even worth trying to persuade them, not really. “Sure.” They couldn’t miss the sigh you let out as the door swung open. “Make yourself comfy.”
In the matter of minutes you’d gone from sprawling over the double bed alone to shuffling between the two players, being welcomed into the arms of Alexia as the three of you shuffled under the duvet.
“We’re worried about you.” MarÍa admitted, smoothing down the hair draped around your face. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing.”
“Are you sure because I bet if we looked in that notepad we’d find more anxious doodles than before. You’ve barely spoken two words to anyone since the news broke out.”
“I read an article-“
“Didn’t I tell you to stop that.” Alexia scolded you. “Those journalists don’t know anything about you.”
“But they don’t know that.” You argued back. “They’ll be reading about how ‘cocky’ I am on and off the pitch, how I flaunt my money, how I think I ‘own the team’.”
“If they believe that then they really have no eyes. Then they’ll see how you’re one of the shiest players on the team, they’ll learn how you could live in mansion but donate so much money to charity, they’ll see how much you work on the team as a whole. You do everything for football and they need to see that.”
“If they don’t love the person they’ll come to know then that’s on them.” Alexia agreed with her.
“Are you sure this isn’t about a certain blonde centre back?” MarÍa teasingly questioned you. “Maybe this isn’t about you being nervous about the articles and more about going into gay panic around Miss Williamson.”
“I told you that in confidence that you’d never bring it up again.” It was true, a few years ago you had confided in the two of them that you used to have a small (very large) crush on Leah at the time.
“And I’m tired of you being the third wheel in our flat, you’ve rejected every opportunity for me to set you up with one of my friends so now I have to think that it’s because you’re still pining for the girl.”
“I’m not pining for anyone, it was a stupid crush which has gone in the four years that I haven’t spoken to the girl.”
“Would you like to speak to her again?” Alexia asked.
“I mean obviously I’m going to have to, she’s the captain of the team.”
“Message her now.”
“No.”
“Why not?” I could only think of a million reasons why I wasn’t about to do that.
“Because like I said, I haven’t spoken to her in nearly four years and it would be weird for me to just message her the night before we see each other again.”
“So lets role play it then, you walk into the hotel tomorrow and she’s there, what are you going to say?” Alexia asked the question you’ve been asking yourself all week.
“Hi.”
Both of them looked like they wanted to tear out both their own and your hair. “Ok you can’t just say that.”
“What else do you want me to say?”
“How are you? Ask her about her life?”
“You want me to speak to the girl for the first time in years and ask her basically how she’s been since we went from speaking every day to unfollowing each other on social media and avoiding any chance of meeting since then.” You needed better friends in situations like this. “I’m not going heavy on our first conversation.”
“You will need to talk about.”
“I know but it’s not just her I need to have that conversation with, I was close with a lot of them and now I’m not. They should be just as involved in that conversation as Leah is.”
“Maybe you could design her a little tattoo, something like ‘I love Y/N’ on her forehead.” MarÍa teased you. “Matches your ‘I love Leah’ on your chest.”
“Shut up, just so you know I’ll never stop cockblocking you and Ingrid, I’ll be round for tea when I get back.”
“Bonnie told me she wants to live with me all the time by the way, said something about her mum abandoning her.”
“Fuck off MarÍa.”
….
The first person to reach out to you wasn’t exactly someone you expected. Mary Earps wasn’t exactly in your friendship group back in 2019, though because she was a part of that squad she was one of the players who you unfollowed in the following unfortunate events. You definitely therefore were not expecting to see her name pop up as you made your way through the airport, heading out to the car which would take you back to your parents’ house before you headed to the team hotel later on in the evening.
@1maryearps: See you later mate, we can’t wait to have you back x
Your emotions were so all over the place that maybe you should have expected this simple message to bring tears to your eyes. Maybe that meant you’d have at least one person on your side tonight.
You spent most of the meal with parents and siblings trying to do anything to avoid the thoughts about what was happening tonight coming back. You spoke to Harper about her homework, Cruze about his latest holiday and Romeo about his girlfriend. Brooklyn could almost sense your nervousness and kept up the conversation, which was all fine until you had to leave.
They knew how big this moment was and each gave you an individual goodbye before you got back into the car. As much as you would have liked to have taken your dad’s offer to drive you, this was all about being normal and being drove by David Beckham didn’t really give off that vibe.
You’d made this drive a million times before, only this time it seemed to take half the time and before you knew it the doors to St George’s Park were in view.
The only person in view was a single man holding a video camera, obviously preparing for the players’ arrivals This was hard and yet you knew this was probably the easiest step, he didn’t know you. You got out from the car, flashing a small smile to the camera as it trained on your every move, making sure to say a thank you to the driver, you turned to head inside.
“How are you feeling Y/N?” The camera man asked.
“Excited.” You couldn’t exactly tell him you were shaking inside. “I can’t wait to be back with this amazing team.”
“Two goals from you today….”
“All thanks to my teammates.” It was only the truth, you were basically set up for both goals by Aitana, you couldn’t do anything but put them in the back of the net.
“Good luck.”
“Thank you very much.”
If you were known for one thing it would be your punctuality, in fact you almost had a fear of being late. Maybe you’d done it on purpose this time to avoid greeting teammates in front of the camera but you were the first here judging by the table in the reception area being full of keys.
“Y/N it’s good to finally meet you in person.” Anja, one of the members of the England management team greeted you. “I hope you’re feeling well.”
“I’m glad to be here,” You settled for that. “I can’t wait to get back on that pitch now.”
“Well we’re glad to have you here. Here’s your key, we’ll meet in the dining area for a quick debrief at 8 and then you’ll have the night to yourself. Training schedules for the week are in your key pack.”
“Thank you.”
This place hadn’t changed one bit, from the entrance all the way up to your rooms you could trace the steps without even looking. You could hear noise out in the corridor but you stayed put, waiting for the clock to tick to 7:50 before making your way downstairs. With it being ten minutes early no one was there but Sarina and the coaching staff. Could this technically count as your first impression to them?
Their eyes trained on you as you entered the room. “Hey, thank you once again.”
“Stop saying thank you, this is all on you.” Sarina instructed, giving you a firm yet welcoming hug, an action which was repeated by the others. “Go and take a seat.”
“Thank-“ Maybe not. “Ok Sarina.”
You didn’t really know what to expect from the others, the squad was definitely a mixture of youth and experience. However even some of the more established players like Alessia and Ella were unknown to you on a personal level.
Thankfully maybe the first ones in were some of the younger players, Jess Park and Ebony Salmon were both the epitome of excitement as they entered the room saying a quick hello to the staff before slightly pausing when they found me sat on the first row.
“Hi.” You knew it was on you to make the effort. “It’s nice to meet you both.”
“Nice to meet you too.” Jess said taking the seat next to me. “You’re killing it at Barcelona.”
“Thank you, I’ve enjoyed watching you play this season. You’ll be an asset at city when you return.” You loved studying young players and watching their development. Jess was no difference in that, plus it helped to build up that connection on the team.
The volume in the room increased as more players entered. Some like Laura Coombs and Katie Zelem gave you a quick smile before taking their seats, other youngsters gave you a quick welcome.
The first real re-introduction you had was when Millie and Rachel entered, your eyes instantly connecting and it was Rachel who led the two of them over. You had always loved the two of them and almost let out a sigh of relief when they both greeted you with hugs, repeating how glad they were to see you. Lucy and Jordan followed suit, the two of them messing about and pulling you into a tight hug before taking their seats.
It was however the final people to enter the room that you were the most nervous about. Maybe you should have been thankful that when Keira, Georgia and Leah entered the room the meeting was about to start and all you could do was send a glancing look their way before Sarina had eyes on her.
She went through the logistics, just like happens every time before she got into the depths of the squad. “It would seem like this is the squad for reintroducing yourself. Laura hasn’t been with us since 2020 and Y/N in 2019. We just want everyone to remember that they’re here for a reason and we all play for England, we’re all a team.”
You blocked everything else out, vaguely scribbling down on your phone some notes about the timings and rooms you were needed in but it was all a bit of a blur. You took your time at the end speaking to some of the other girls, no-one seemed to be making a huge fuss about the situation but the trio had disappeared again and you knew you had to speak to them tonight before this started to interfere with the rest of the camp.
Thankfully you managed to find them, the three of them tucked away in the corner of the dining room, huddled around a laptop playing something in German.
“Hey.” Your voice almost cracked as you broke through the silence. “It’s good to see you all.”
You should have predicted really that Keira and Georgia would be your road in, though the two of them were fierce on the pitch they really were softies off it and you were almost knocked off your feet when they bounded up to you, both their arms wrapping around you in a hug.
“We can’t believe you’re actually here.” Georgia said. “This is just crazy.”
“It’s definitely different.” Leah finally joined in and that was the moment you knew even as she joined in the hug, she was the one who would be the toughest to crack. She wasn’t going to let you in just as easy but the captain part of her probably forced her to not let it show around others. “Glad to have you back on the team.”
“Thank you.”
“Take a seat.” Keira glanced to the free chair next to Leah. “We were just watching Georgia make a fool of herself, want to join?”
“Yeah I’d like that, I’d like that a lot.”
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kamiversee · 1 month
Text
➶-͙˚ ༘✶ 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁*𝘾𝙆 𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏
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✧.* CHAPTER 28 || The Effect You Have
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[ { SYPNOSIS } ] ➤ A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt. Sounds easy enough, right?
[ { CHAPTER CONTENT } ] ➤ language & fluff.
[ { WORD COUNT } ] ➤ 4.1k
[ { PAIRINGS } ] ➤ jjk men x f!reader. gojo x f!reader. geto x f!reader. toji x f!reader. choso x f!reader. sukuna x f!reader. nanami x f!reader.
[ [ chapters mlist } ]
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——IT ALL BEGAN SO SIMPLE. Once Gojo got you home, he opened the trunk of his car to reveal the fifteen dresses he'd purchased for you, all of which he forgot to tell you had also been tailored for you as well.
He left that part out because the two of you had gone to get a dress tailored once just a few days ago. The dress you wore to Sukuna's party was specifically tweaked to fit you perfectly and after that, Gojo took the extra step of having the tailor keep your measurements for future dresses.
It was a detail he decided to leave out because he'd been planning for this for a while now and he didn't want you to think he was weird in any way-- even though the gesture was rather nice of him. Gojo was also sure to leave out how expensive each dress actually was, never wanting to reveal the fact that he'd spent his entire bank account on you if he could.
You went upstairs first, carrying only one dress with you as you did so. When you got into your apartment, you quickly noticed that Shoko had left some time ago, giving you the space for a while. Since it's a Friday, you recall that she has one class and then usually likes to go out and do something right after.
Within minutes after you walk into your apartment, Gojo is entering with the remaining dresses piled up in his hands. You would've helped him carry more but he insisted otherwise.
He takes all the dresses into your room and places them on your bed, just as you instruct him to. Once he's done, the man goes ahead and seats himself onto your mattress with an expectant look in his eyes.
You blink, one dress still in your hands as you wonder why Gojo's looking at you in such a patient way, "What? Why are you still sitting there...?" You ask simply.
Gojo shrugs, "I mean I didn't buy all those dresses for no reason..."
You scoff out a laugh, "Ohh, you want me to try on the dresses for you?"
He flashes you this innocent little smile, "Mhm..."
You narrow your eyes at him, "You'd see the dress whenever I wear it though..."
"That's not true, I'm not gonna be at this nightclub every time you go, I'm just taking you tonight since it's your first time there," Gojo explains.
You stare for a second, then nod, "Uhuh... Fine then, I guess I'll try on the dresses for you..."
He smiles, "Let me know if you need help putting them on-"
"You're not slick, Satoru," You cut off as you turn and dip into your bathroom.
The sound of him chuckling is heard as you move around and begin to change yourself into the first dress. Like all the others, the dress is beautiful and so obviously expensive, despite whatever Gojo tells you about it not being pricey.
You're careful to put the item on, quickly noticing how it fits like a glove and how pretty it looks on you. This first dress is silk and dark blue, almost royal blue, backless, and rather enticing. Just looking at yourself in it makes you feel odd.
The dress you wore to Sukuna's party was one thing, after all, you've been to plenty of parties before so it was your typical dark red party dress. But this dress... Well, you know Gojo said the club was pretty fancy but based on this first dress and the glimpse you caught of the other ones, it seems like classy is what you're gonna have to go for.
When you consider yourself to be done, you open the bathroom door with your eyes down on the dress as your free hand moves to smooth it out. Gojo's eyes are all over you instantly and when you look up, you're not too surprised to see him moving to get off the bed.
"Why are you getting up?" You chuckle, watching him casually approach you.
Gojo's soon standing in front of you, towering over you like always, "I needed a closer look."
"You might need glasses because I'm pretty sure anyone could've seen everything perfectly fine from my bed," You say in response.
He smiles and tilts his head at you, "Gimme a spin."
You fold your arms under your chest, "Say please."
"Please?" Gojo utters as if it were second nature to do so.
With a roll of your eyes, you slowly turn yourself around and give him a full three-sixty of the dress. Gojo's got this big stupidly happy smile on his face as you do so as if he couldn't be more at peace watching you perform such a simple act.
When you're done and come to a stop facing him once more, he's still smiling at you. "Well?" You ask.
"Y'know I'm gonna say you look beautiful in everything, right?" He sighs, the look in his eyes just dripping with affection.
You swallow, "Then what's the point of me trying all these on...?"
"I'm gonna help you figure out which one you should wear tonight!" He says cheerfully, "Gotta' make sure you make a good first impression on Nanami."
A brow is raised in question, "You do know he's seen me before, right?"
Gojo does this gesture with his hand as if to wave off what you just said, "That doesn't count."
"Right, sure it doesn't." You say, shaking your head at him.
"Oh, I also bought you shoes," Gojo suddenly tells you, turning away and heading back over to your bed.
You watch with wide eyes as he flops down onto your mattress, "What? Why?"
"Uh, to go with the dresses, sweetheart." He hums.
"Well, where are they?"
"Check your closet," Gojo says, laying down on his back and staring up at your ceiling, "Shoko said they came earlier this morning."
You blink, not sure how exactly to react just yet. It's so unusual for you to get spoiled like this. It's one thing for him to buy you a dress every now and then, and another thing for him to pay you for your sinful acts but to go out of his way and purchase this much for you is just...
New.
Your feet move to your closet and the second you open it, you're met with a shitload of new shoeboxes. "Wh-What the hell..." You say softly.
Gojo sits up slightly, holding his body up with his elbow and looking in your direction, "Hm?"
"Satoru..." You whisper, your eyes darting all over the fifteen different boxes of shoes in front of you. "You didn't really..."
"I did," He hums, "I swear they aren't as expensive as you think they are-"
"Shut up," You cut off. He closes his mouth quickly and you crouch down to the first box that catches your eye. "Satoru, these are Christian Louboutins...."
"Oh, I forgot I got those..." He replies.
You move the box around in your hand to inspect the item, "They're like a thousand dollars for each pair on average..."
"Okay...?"
Your eyes go to the other boxes nearby, "I'm seeing seven different pairs..."
"Seven different colors," Gojo explains with a casual shrug.
You take a second to reply, wondering what the hell is wrong with this man and trying to figure out why he'd go out of his way like this. "That's roughly seven thousand dollars on just shoes." You point out after some quick estimates made.
"Okay.....?" He chuckles, "They're shoes for you."
Your heart throbs in your chest in reaction to his emphasis on the shoes being for you-- as if he were implying that the price will never matter if it's something for you. Carefully, you place the box back down, too scared to even open it and look just yet.
"I..." You release a sigh, "I don't understand you..."
For a moment, Gojo goes quiet. You can't see his face so you don't catch how his expression grows worried. He feels like you may even be upset with him for a moment, which is the exact opposite of what he'd hoped to achieve with this.
After a moment of thought, "Is it too much...?" He asks softly.
"Yes, yes it is." Your response is quick and you go on to ramble immediately, "Why the hell would you buy all this for me just for me to go to one little nightclub? There are thousands of other heels you could've bought for me that aren't nearly as expensive. I'm gonna feel like I'm literally walking on eggshells the entire night because of how expensive these are. What if I break them? What if they get dirty-"
"So..." Gojo cuts you off, raising a brow, "I should've bought you a backup pair for each shoe?"
He sounds so genuinely confused that it's almost funny. "No Satoru, you shouldn't have bought me anything this expensive to begin with." You say calmly.
He blinks, "Why not?"
"I..." You sigh again, "It's weird."
"Weird how?" Gojo questions, not understand your reaction at all. He thought you'd be happy about this kinda thing, he's seen the way your eyes light up whenever he pays you so what's the difference here? "I'm buying things for the woman I love, what's so weird about that?" He questions.
"Stop saying that."
His brows pinch together, "What? That I love you? Or, that you're the woman I love?"
"It's all the same, just stop." You tell him.
"Why?"
"Because..." Your words fall off your tongue as you lose the reasoning behind why you want to hear him stop uttering such a phrase.
Every time he says those things it's like you can hear the truth behind his words. Almost as if in no universe could you deny the fact that you wholeheartedly believe he's in love with you. And for some reason, that belief of yours confuses you.
Gojo grins a little, "Because what sweetheart?"
"I don't know how to feel when you say things like that." You finally explain.
"There's no right or wrong way to feel, y'know..."
You shrug, "Well, it makes me feel... weird."
A sneaky little smile spreads across his face, "Is it because you love me t-"
"No." You deny it instantly.
"Alright then," Gojo sighs, "What is it?"
"Sympathetic." You correct him, somewhat figuring out what it is you feel as he utters those three words to you.
"Huh?"
"Every time you say that you love me or do things that make me feel like you love me... I begin to feel sympathy for you." Your explanation makes his heart race for some unknown reason.
Gojo swallows, "W-Why?"
"Cause' it's like... the things you do are making up for the bullshit you make me do. A-And it's all so fucked up because the last thing I want to feel is sympathy for my blackmailer." You stammer, steadily getting worked up over this small conversation.
Gojo lets out a sigh of relief and then smiles softly, even though you're not looking at him yet, "Listen, I'm not spoiling you like this because I want you to forgive me for what I've done. I... I don't ever expect to make up for it. But, if getting you new expensive things can put a smile on your face, even if only for a second, I'd sell a limb to be able to provide that for you."
Your head whips around to the man, "What?"
"Anything," Gojo says, meeting your gaze. He's so serious that it's almost dark the way he looks at you, "I'd do anything for you."
There's this sharp feeling in your chest. It's like you could feel the gravity of his words weighing your heart down. Almost as though, you knew he was serious.
Nearly overwhelmed by his seriousness, you quickly turn your head away, "I appreciate that..." You murmur, unsure of a better way to respond.
"Great-"
"But," You interrupt, "I don't understand why."
"Those three words." Gojo explains, "That's why."
"Because you love me?" You ask.
"Mhm." He hums in response.
"Well," You slowly begin to stand up and move out of your closet. "I don't understand that either."
Gojo watches as you grab another dress to try on and take it into the bathroom. He gets how you find his feelings for you confusing and has no intentions of explaining them just yet so instead, he results in saying something rather simple.
"Love isn't meant to be understood, sweets," Gojo tells you just before you shut the bathroom door.
You merely hum in response to that and the rest of you trying on dresses goes pretty smoothly.
With each dress, he'd comment on either how the material looks good on you or how the color makes a certain feature of yours stand out, all of his comments well thought out and making you feel all warm inside. You eventually even start trying on the heels with these dresses and each outfit is something you never thought you'd find yourself wearing.
Not that they didn't fit your usual style or anything but the prices that followed the items you wore were just something you'd never given yourself the leisure of even looking at. So to have such pretty and expensive items on your body and in your closet felt really nice.
Eventually, you land on the last dress. The color alone made you not want to wear it because simply looking at it reminded you of that morning you spent with Gojo. It was baby blue and rather small on you. There were these thin spaghetti straps that went over your shoulders, a decent amount of cleavage was revealed, and once you got down to how it just barely stopped at your thighs, there was this small slit in it.
It was cute and when you turned around, you noticed it hugged your ass nicely. Even so, you didn't want to reveal yourself in it to Gojo because you had a feeling you knew what his reaction would be.
"It's been fifteen minutes, love. Need some help?" Gojo calls out from the other side of your bathroom door.
You looked to the bottom of the door and noticed his shadow was there, smiling to yourself at how he so clearly knew you were purposefully taking a while. "No, I don't need help..."
"Thennnn what's taking you so long?" He hums.
"Nothing." You say before moving to open the door.
You're quickly met with Gojo standing there, leaning against your doorframe like always with a little smile on his face. His eyes are on your face, not yet dropping down to the dress.
Slowly, he allows himself to get a look at you and you watch the way he smiles. "You are so..."
"Beautiful?" You finish, having heard him say the same thing for the past hour or so, "Yeah, I know-"
"Perfect," Gojo corrects, "You're absolutely perfect."
You roll your eyes at his compliment for the millionth time, "Whatever."
He moves a hand to your waist and suddenly pulls your body close to his. Your chest presses up against him and your eyes frantically search his in question of why he's suddenly touching you.
Then, you catch that look in his gaze that you haven't seen in a while. It's the look that makes your knees go weak, that begging and pleading look of his that so clearly tells you he wants his lips on yours. You hate the way you recognize it so quickly now.
Gojo leans down to you, his arm slithering all the way around your waist, "This is the one." He whispers to you.
You blink, "The one what?"
"The dress you should wear tonight," He clarifies.
"Why? Does Nanami like blue or something?" You ask curiously.
Gojo shrugs, "I think so."
"Oh.." You murmur, watching as Gojo's face nears yours.
He stops himself just an inch away from your lips, his head tilted and his eyes low on yours. He doesn't say anything just yet, simply looking at your lips with the strong desire to place his own over them.
"Can I..." He trails off a little, almost as if he's nervous to ask his question.
You don't know why but you just nod, permitting him to kiss you.
What was it about this man that made you miss the feeling of his lips over yours? You don't know. You have no idea why every time Gojo's lips press into yours and you kiss him, your knees go weak, your brain stops working, and you feel so drowned in love.
You don't feel the same for him but damnit you can't deny how much you enjoy the way he kisses you. Sometimes, like right now, it's gentle and slow, his lips carefully and strategically moving over your own until his tongue is in your mouth, affectionately making out with you as his hand travels up and down your back.
Other times it's hot and heavy, both of you chasing the feeling of each other's lips as if time will one day stop you from feeling that connection.
Currently, you find yourself lost in his kisses, panting softly by the time he pulls away and both of you moving in for more just as quickly as you pulled away. So lost in it, you don't even think as he eases you into your bathroom and lifts you onto the counter, his lips desperate against your own.
Gojo's not kissing you like he wants to have sex with you or anything, he's kissing you like he just enjoys the feeling just as much as you. It's like he melts into your mouth, releasing small hums and even smaller whines into your parted lips as he sinks into the moment.
His hands go to your face, cupping your cheeks in his hand and kissing you like his life depends on it, and as if he's worried you'll slip away from his grasp at any given moment. After which, Gojo's hands would be on your thighs, sliding up your legs and just barely going up and under the dress, eager to just feel your skin.
As he does so, you think you get dizzy when he pulls away just to whisper, "I love you," In the lowest voice you've heard from him.
And it's not just one time he does that, it's constant that he breaks the kiss just to whisper those three words into your lips as if he wants you to never forget it as if he needs to chant the phrase in order to pass the needed level of understanding behind it.
"So much," Gojo utters, "I love you so fucking much." His lips are back on yours within the next second, needy tongue shoving into your mouth that you so gratefully accept.
You're unsure of what you've done to make this man be so deeply in love with you like this. Maybe the day you find out, you may reciprocate the feeling but as of now, the the only thing you can do in response to his repeated claims is kiss him back.
You could never utter those three words back to him. I love you. It's a phrase you've reserved for someone else. A sentence in which you direct toward an entirely different man. Even now as you make out with Gojo, you still think of who's stolen your heart.
Somewhere deep down inside, you tell yourself that it should be him instead. It should be Choso telling you that right now. It should be him holding you so lovingly, kissing you so tenderly, and longing for you the way Gojo does.
That's who you should be with at this very moment and yet, there you were, against Gojo's lips hearing how in love with you he claims to be.
As of now, you could only await the day in which you'd be where you're supposed to be.
.  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
After about forty straight minutes of locked lips with Gojo Satoru, the two of you eventually pry yourself off of each other. You hadn't even realized you kissed him so long and you didn't even notice the way your lips made it to his neck at one point.
It was almost subconscious the way you left hickeys on his neck, marks that he had no intention of stopping you from making. Gojo actually held your head at his neck at one point, thriving in the feeling of you against him.
When the two of you were done, you watched him admire the work you'd left on his neck as he gazed in the mirror. His fingers traced over each one and the man wishes he could keep them there forever. To have evidence of you on his skin was something he'd wish to keep forever.
Even so, the two of you eventually left the bathroom and it was decided that the final dress you tried on was what you were going to wear that night.
Gojo left later that afternoon and told you he'd be back to pick you up when it was time to go. You still didn't quite understand why it was so important for him to take you there but you didn't argue with him about it.
Shoko eventually stopped home later that afternoon and she teased you about going out for the second night in a row. This time, even though she wasn't going with you, she went ahead and got ready with you-- the two of you helping one another with makeup and accessories.
She even made a comment on the dress you were wearing, saying that it was really pretty on you and that she loved the color. She also not-so-sneakily made a comment on how she recalls Gojo having a tie from high school that matches it but you brushed her words off.
And of course, to your surprise, the tie in question ends up being around the neck of Gojo Satoru when he comes to pick you up. Why would he match his tie with your dress? You don't know and you didn't care enough to ask. It's not like you and him would be side by side throughout the night anyway, you were supposed to be meeting Nanami.
The nightclub in which you were set to be was located all the way across town and the drive took forever. The ride was filled with low music and Gojo telling you things he thinks Nanami would look for in a woman.
He tells you that you have to be careful not to be too bold with him because Nanami may misinterpret what you've approached him for, going on to tell you how the guy apparently gets hit on a lot and turns a lot of people down. So basically, you'll have to be careful with your flirting.
You take a mental note of everything he's saying and by the time you get there, you think you're ready for the whole thing. You've only seen Nanami twice, once in a photo and another in person but you could spot the man in a crowded room since he has rather distinguishing features.
Plus, Gojo told you he'd be at the bar and probably the furthest away from the dancefloor so you'd most likely find him there.
Even so, Gojo wanted to at least be in the building with you so he walked you to the door and entered the building with you. The man even gave the bouncer at the entrance a death glare for ogling you. After that, the two of you entered and you quickly noted how fancy the place really was.
It wasn't your typical club with people partying and drinking all over the place or loud music blaring throughout the building. Instead, there were people dressed very classy and almost elegant in certain areas. The dancefloor was filled with a few couples, all of whom danced to some slow jam.
You actually liked the scene in front of you. The only thing you felt nervous about was looking out of place. Luckily, by Gojo's side, you fit right in since he was wearing a suit and pulled himself together rather nicely. But, you wouldn't be around him the entire night.
And that was what worried you.
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GOJO SATORU ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: ���𝙖𝙨𝙮
GETO SUGURU ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮
TOJI FUSHIGURO ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙈𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙪𝙢
KAMO CHOSO ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙎𝙚𝙢𝙞-𝙈𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙪𝙢 / 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮
ZEN'IN NAOYA ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙭𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙡𝙮 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮
ITADORI SUKUNA ☐ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙎𝙚𝙢𝙞-𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮???
NANAMI KENTO ☐ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: ???
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