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targaryenluvs · 5 months

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OUR LITTLE DOVE

pairings: dark!lucy gray x fem!reader, dark!coriolanus snow x fem!reader, coriolanus snow x lucy gray

summary: you reunite with your dear songbird after the games, but it seems the capitol has followed her home, and taken an interest in the two of you. but it seems lucy gray is willing to share you with a certain peacekeeper, even if you aren’t.

warnings: crazy lucy n corio conspiring like evil doers, manipulation, chasing, primal play?? is that what is called idk corio enjoys hunting your ass down, kidnapping, drugging, forced into accepting a third partner?? nc touching, abuse of power (peacekeeper), power dynamics, kinda cheating (lucy n corio), guilt-trip, jealousy, threatening, self doubt and relationship problems, murder, betrayal

word count: 3.0k

a/n: lol i complain about wanting to write fluff but all my good ideas r so dark 😭 someone needs to give me tips on how to write girls cuz i have no experience would be easier if i was gay boooo!!

he was like a shadow, stuck to your back, always.

you’d complained to lucy numerous times that you didn’t feel comfortable around him when she played at the hob, knowing he’d be there, in the crowd. “sweetie, he was my mentor. he helped me so much in the games, i wouldn’t be here without him. you love me don’t you? so you need to learn to love him too, he’s a good friend a mine. i love you and i gotta get to the stage baby.” she explained as she ran around getting herself and the covey ready.

you were always front row. wanting to be as close to lucy as possible. she looked especially majestic tonight with flowers in her hair. as you listened to her sing you’d managed to forget about the certain blonde peacekeeper near the back. but he hadn’t forgotten about you, nor lucy.

you’d left to get a drink and you’d came back to an unfamiliar tune. you usually knew every song being played off by heart but this was new.

Everyone's born as clean as a whistle

As fresh as a daisy

And not a bit crazy

Staying that way's a hard row for hoeing

she sounded as angelic as usual and the crowd around you seemed entranced.

As rough as a briar

Like walking through fire

This world, it's dark

This world, it's scary

lucy smiled at you once, just once. which threw you off since you usually got a bunch. especially during new songs and songs about you. was this not also about you?

I've taken some hits, so

No wonder I'm wary It's why

I need you

so it is about me! you thought as you closed your eyes, allowing yourself to sway to the music and singing. you’d hoped you wouldn’t miss a smile headed your way.

You're as pure as the driven snow

your eyes flew open as you stared at lucy, she was looking past you and to the peacekeeper. to coriolanus snow. you’d always been a rational person, you prided yourself on restraint but that restraint was hanging on by a thread. you wanted to jam a beer bottle into his neck. lucy was your girlfriend not his. and yet he smiled stupidly towards her as she sang and you could feel your heart clawing its way up. best to leave now rather than stay and hear more of the ever so driven man.

your head was spinning as you slumped to the floor, in one of your finest dresses yet worst mental states. of course, something had formed between the two. she was in the goddamn hunger games and he was her mentor. trauma bonding? he quite literally saved her life, coached her and you did what? sat at home and hoped.

hope could only get you so far.

your hope and faith in lucy gray baird was dwindling as her lyrics swirled in your head. of course she loved him. who wouldn’t? the man was undeniably eye catching. a capitol man. but you’d always imagined lucy staying away from the capitol, despising them. but maybe it wasn’t the captiol part but the man part. maybe she wanted a true life, a home, marriage and children and everything she could wish for.

what on earth could you provide her with?

“y/n?” it sure as hell wasn’t lucy calling out for you and you knew that. coriolanus’s reflection was prominent in the puddle before you as he neared. great, you sneered, would love to get to know you mr peacekeeper. please tell me how you stole my lovely girlfriend from me!

your chest felt oh so heavy as you heard his footsteps in the gravel, determined and unwavering as he made his way to your slumped body. “what do you want? you wanna gloat?” coriolanus stopped in his tracks, gloat? “why would i gloat?” you looked up at him annoyed, “rub it in my face. you practically stole my girlfriend from me.” coriolanus laughed. actually laughed and it made you want to strangle him with his stupid dog tags.

“sweetheart.” vomit. you wanted to vomit. maybe choking and dying on your vomit would be less embarrassing then this. why on earth was this fuck head calling you his sweetheart. “fuck off.”

you didn’t see him coming. and you certainly didn’t expect his demeanour to snap. but the large hand tangled in your open hair was a big slap in the face to your unreadiness. “you of all people don’t get to talk to me like that. do you know who you’re talking to?” you could hear his perfect porcelain teeth grinding at your words. god this man couldn’t handle an insult. wuss.

“what the hell is your- ow! problem!” you yelped as he dragged you into an alleyway. “you need to learn how to respect your superiors. if you’re nice to me, i can make your life easier. doesn’t it hurt? not being able to fully provide for your family? seeing them struggle? do you really think disrespecting a peacekeeper is going to help? i suggest you straighten your act and thank me for even looking your way. there are plenty of other girls here.”

but he didn’t want those other girls. he wanted you. you with the teary eyes and messy hair. you who he’d been seeing in his dreams and during the day. you with the kind smile and curious eyes. you who were so sweet and pretty but mean when need be. the y/n who was stupid enough to spit such hateful words at a peacekeeper. but he’d teach you. whether it be with words and lessons or actions and bruises. you’d learn your place, by his side and lucy’s, and underneath. but with such fearful, brown doe eyes watering up infront of him, the girl he’d heard oh so much about from lucy. how could he refrain from indulging?

his hand reached out to wipe away the few stray tears that fell as his left extended towards your right, which was clutching your head, where he’d grabbed you. “shh, let me help you.” your hand slowly retracted as your heart ran a marathon. the man was obviously unstable, going from a deceptively caring man to violent. coriolanus smiled at your actions, and it freaked you out. he caressed your scalp in an attempt to soothe, “good girl.” he cooed as your apparent saviour approached.

“sweetie?” lucy called out to you as coriolanus withdrew from your personal space. he walked over to her and she let him. he held her hand and spoke with, love? his voice was soft and comforting, his thumb again caressing the back of her hand as they talked, whispered, plotted? god knows, all you wanted was to leave.

was this your chance?

you tested the waters, slow and calculated movements as lucy nodded in agreement with him. but by the time they were done speaking you’d bolted.

but you sure as hell weren’t getting far with these two on your tail, poor y/n l/n. a little dove trying to spread her wings but they were bound to be clipped.

your feet were throbbing and begging for you to slow down. but your brain was in charge for once, your heart which yearned for your dear songbird pushed to the side as your head screamed and urged you to go. she was in league with him apparently. her seeing him corner you and not even batting an eyelash. did she truly care for you so little? did she want to rid herself of you? she could’ve broken up with you and let that be it. maybe the games had twisted her head.

even as you believed yourself to be gaining distance from the two you could hear the not-so distant steps of determined pursuit, headed your way. how would they kill you? slow and intimate? hasty and brutal?

“if you stop running now we won’t be mad little dove!” lucy shouted in warning as you felt yourself momentarily slow at her words. traitor. you thought to yourself as your body involuntary listened, she still had an affect on you. “she’s right, we love you, we won’t hurt you. unless we have to, don’t give us our reasons.”

“shut up!” you screamed. god, i know we haven’t talked in a while. last minute efforts right? maybe he’d listen to you, save you from your tormentors. you should’ve kept your head clear, focused on running. focused on your surroundings and if you had, you would’ve noticed the nearing tree roots, thick and protruding from the ground, ready to knock you down.

you crawled behind the tree, trying to catch your breath as your hands worked tirelessly to provide some form of relief to your aching ankle.

crack.

you’d been found. you fucked up.

“our little dove, ever the sprinter.”

his words had you lurching forwards in an attempt of fleeing but lucy’s cold hand on your ankle dragged protests and cries from your throat as well as you, back to them. “you should’ve listened before, we would’ve been nice. given you some time to adjust, but you can’t sit and think for a second can you?” coriolanus mocked as his hand trailed up your un-injured leg, “that’s okay, you won’t be doing much thinking from now on. we’ll be taking care of you, since you obviously can’t take care a’ yourself baby.” lucy’s voice was saccharine, like honey, and her smile was even sweeter. the familiarity and comfort of her presence was intoxicating, you felt at peace on one side and the other wanted to jump off a cliff. she lowered your guard and coriolanus slithered right in.

the prick in the side of your neck wasn’t painful, but their words were. “you’re with us now, we’ll take care of you, we promise.” and you were stuck, stuck with them for god knows how long.

you blinked away the sleep in your eyes, adjusting to the room. maybe they had killed you? in their own twisted way they’d keep you forever, in their memories and soul. coriolanus and lucy’s voices swam around your head and blended together. you were wrong. yay.

“it’s a bit early for katniss, even if it’s one of her favourites.”

“she should eat something better.”

“better? don’t go all capitol on me now corio.”

he was smiling, you could tell.

“never lucy gray. but she’ll be weak for a few days, proper meals will help her regain some strength.”

you picked your head up and looked through the window, the lake was evident.

“alright, you go grab it and i’ll stay here.”

“why? so you can get more time with her? if anyone should get extra time it’s me.”

“now who was her partner first? oh that’s right, me. you’re acting as if i’m gonna pick her up and run away. if you’re that scared than we’ll both go. take her with us.”

coriolanus’s head whipped towards the cabin and you quickly flopped back down on the bed. you shut your eyes as you heard the door creak open. “gosh, doesn’t she look pretty?” lucy asked, knowing the answer already. “so calm, i liked her better when she was crying.” lucy hit him, “coriolanus snow!” he stroked the side of your face and you had to resist from turning your head and biting his fingers off.

“little dove.” your eyes opened again, turning your head his way tiredly. “we need to get some supplies okay?” you nodded as lucy went outside to gather the baskets she’d left out earlier on to dry. coriolanus’s hand dug into your cheeks as he forced you to look at him, “i told you i’d make you respect me. now listen, if you try anything when we’re in town i will never let you forget it. you’ll know who you belong to every single day. maybe i’ll pay your family a visit? an appointment with the hanging tree for being rebels? stealing?”

you shook your head violently as you began to cry, “you don’t want that? didn’t think so. you listen to me and everything will be fine. your family will get daily help and weekly groceries. they’ll never go hungry again. all thanks to their sweet little girl. lucy’s too nice, but don’t think for a second she’ll save you from me. you’re mine and if you try anything.” he leaned in to whisper, “i’ll strangle her with my bare hands infront of you.” his words were meant to scare you, and they did. but don’t you know? coriolanus snow doesn’t need a reason to do bad things.

coriolanus was wicked and ruthless when it came to what he wanted, if you had any hope of trying to get through this then you’d need lucy’s attention and help. so you nodded. “words sweetheart.” you swallowed your pride, your dignity, and you shook hands with the devil.

“yes, i’ll do what you say.” he straightened up, his white shirt a contrast to his dark thoughts.

“y’all ready to go?” lucy questioned as coriolanus grinned, “yes, yes we are.” he lifted you up and helped you dress, you hadn’t realised the fact that you were only dressed in his own white shirt, dress to you. he handled you like you were the most delicate object. as if he wasn’t hell bent on breaking you, over and over again. till you were fit to his standards. the captiol standards. the snow standards.

his, his, his.

with how obedient you were, he figured you’d do well in the capitol. which was exactly where he was meaning to bring you.

lucy walked in front of the two of you as you made your way through the woods. coriolanus’s hand was glued to your waist as he held you close, afraid to let go. you were at flight risk of course. his grip was tight and bruising. lucy’s humming distracted you at times, if you were delusional enough you could imagine it to be the two of you. your brothers far infront and the covey following. after an amazing afternoon at the lake, heading home for dinner, maybe a performance or the night shift.

your daydreaming was interrupted when you clocked coriolanus’s missing hand from your waist, and his arm now around lucy grays throat.

don’t you remember? you’d do well in the capitol! you were his! but not entirely, no.

not with her in the way.

you were frozen in place as lucy clawed at him before reaching out for you. a plea, a cry for help and aid yet you stood stuck in fear. a minute, two. she’d put up a strong fight, especially when you ran towards the two, pushing and shoving at coriolanus to let her go. but again, you fucked up.

here lies lucy gray baird, singer, victor, psycho.

obsessed? madly in love? you couldn’t think of another word, and as much as you wished to forget her, forget how she’d practically allowed another man into your relationship and let him kidnap you. her lifeless face and hollow eyes made your heart clench. but soon enough she was rolled over, thrown in a pre-made hole and buried. she’d survived the games but no one survived coriolanus snow.

“don’t forget what i said. don’t forget what you agreed to. you said you’d do as i say, i’m telling you to get up and follow me. we’re leaving district 12.” your face was painted with confusion as coriolanus clutched your face, “i’m going back, and you’re coming with me. don’t ask questions, just do as i say.”

and you did.

when he had you say goodbye to your family, a courtesy, a privilege he’d granted you. you kept it short and sweet, no questions just hugs and false promises of return.

when he ushered you onto the train and he wanted you to sit and be silent, you did.

through his time at the university, he wanted you close to him, living with him. and you did.

through his presidency campaign he wanted for you to charm sponsors and entice newcomers. you did.

when he wanted to marry you in a grand spectacle infront of the captiol and dress you up, you did as he asked.

when he held you down on your wedding night after tearing your dress off, biting and marking you down all over, pushing you down to your knees and took you all over the house, asking you to give yourself to him as if he didn’t take you anyways, you did.

you had no idea why at this point.

for your family? who hadn’t reached out in so long, even when they promised to talk to you every day? coriolanus had them all arrested, punished and hung for inciting riots and uprisings.

for your friends whom listened to your concerns of the capitol peacekeeper who hovered and didn’t make you feel crazy? each of them ended up dead in many different ways, hung, shot, a mugging gone wrong.

you didn’t know at this point and when you looked in the mirror you didn’t recognise the girl who stared back. a captiol sheep, dressed up in the finest silk dresses and slick heels yet the filth underneath the finery, jewels, and makeup weighed you down. each time he touched you, kissed you, fucked you, it felt like a peace of yourself was thrown away.

and as you clutched your swelling stomach, you couldn’t help but feel pity for baby number four.

maybe you’d grow up and find love.

maybe i’ll be able to take you all away from him.

maybe we’ll heal.

you thought, but in the back of your head, a little voice wouldn’t shut up.

you’ll always be his little dove.

#dark!coriolanus snow x reader #dark!coriolanus snow #dark!coriolanus snow x fem!reader #lucy gray x coriolanus #coriolanus snow x fem!reader #coriolanus snow x reader #lucy gray x fem!reader #lucy gray x reader #lucy gray baird x reader #dark!lucy gray x reader #dark!lucy gray baird x reader #hunger games x reader

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theemporium · 1 year

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🥺👉👈

Best friend Eddie has had a *thing* for reader since middle school. But is worried to go for it (reader is sweet, smart, and funny. Probably would be popular if she didn't spend so much time with the "freaks".) So he'll take any little bit of affection he can get from her.

(I think we've all seen from the show and the interviews that JQ's love language is touch.)

Maybe Eddie starts hugging her and holding her a lot until one day at lunch he puts his hand on her knee and she moves it onto her thigh under her skirt (?).

You can take it from there 😂 that's the extent of my genius.

thank you for requesting!🖤

part two

Eddie Munson had always been an affectionate and touchy guy.

You had been friends with him for many years and it was an undeniable fact the boy loved to show his affection through physical touch. Whether it was an arm thrown over the shoulders of the younger boys in the club as they make their way to the classroom to start the latest campaign, or whether it was knocking shoulders and excitedly hugging his bandmates when they make a breakthrough on a song they had been working on.

Eddie was an affectionate guy and that treatment was extended to you too.

It also just happened that he had a massive fucking crush on you and felt like his heart was going to burst through his chest every time he touched you.

It had been a normal Thursday. Classes had been long and torturous, but Eddie was practically bouncing in his seat to head towards the cafeteria for lunch. When he walked into the room, he saw you sitting in your usual seat—the one right next to him at the head of the table.

It was difficult to wipe the grin off his face as he made his way towards the table, slumping down into his seat and not even wasting a moment before he was gripping the back of your chair, dragging you close enough until your thighs were pressed together. He did this every day but something about you liked the way your heart skipped when he pulled you closer.

It baffled Eddie why you always sat with them. You weren’t in Hellfire, not really. You never played but you enjoyed listening to them rant and ramble about it. You had other friends you could have sat with, ones that wouldn’t have made you seem as though you were a ‘freak’ along with the rest of them. But despite Eddie’s insistence that he wouldn’t be offended if you sat somewhere else, you still chose the seat right next to him—to make your own point.

You were very happy and content where you were, settled under Eddie’s arm with your head resting against his shoulder as he continued to discuss the latest campaign with the other boys. You smiled softly, watching how excited and animated they got and the way Eddie’s face glistened in pride at how much they loved his campaign.

But then your thoughts started to wander and you felt something warm just above your knee, your eyes darting down to see Eddie subconsciously place his hand on your thigh and gently stroke the skin exposed by your skirt.

You pressed your lips together, not saying anything. You didn’t want him to move his hand, maybe because you weren’t sure Eddie saw you as anything but a best friend. And with this—with this, you could pretend it was something more.

Then his hand moved up a little, the movement almost a little hesitant like he was waiting for you to push it back down.

But you didn’t.

You waited for him to shift higher but it stayed firmly where it was, a couple of inches below the hem of your skirt. Your eyes darted up, seeing the boys still screaming and yelling at each other across the table and lost in their own conversation. You stole a quick glance at Eddie, finding his eyes firmly stuck on the boys but the hint of a smirk on his lips gave you another idea.

Your fingers slowly wrapped around his wrist, giving it a soft squeeze before you began to guide his hand higher up your thigh. It inched closer and closer until—

Eddie cleared his throat when you pushed his hand under your skirt, your thighs clenching together to trap his hand there. He pressed his lips together, forcing himself to keep his face neutral as though blood wasn’t roaring in his ears and going straight down to his cock.

Your legs parted a little, just enough for him to move his fingers once again. You kept your gaze anywhere but your lap, the heat rushing to your cheeks warning enough that you would instantly blow your cover if you saw the sight of his hand between your legs.

Eddie’s fingers slowly crawled further up your leg, his fingertips teasing your clothed cunt. You let out a small gasp, quickly covering it up with a cough as you felt his fingers press more firmly against your panties.

You nuzzled yourself against his side, the action not uncommon and, therefore, ignored by the rest of the group. Your face was practically pressed against the fabric of his jacket, muffling the small sounds that left your lips as his fingers grazed up and down your cunt—the touch too light but enough to make you squirm.

Nobody even questioned it when Eddie ducked his head down, his lips pressed against your ear and his warm breath fanned across your skin.

“You’re so wet, baby,” he muttered, his voice low enough that only you could hear him. “And I’ve barely even touched you.”

“Eddie,” you breathed out.

“I didn’t know you liked this kinda stuff, sweetheart,” he murmured, his fingers pushing against your clothed clit as you fought the urge to squirm. “Letting me do this to you when anybody could see.”

“Shit,” you hissed, the fabric of your panties soaked.

“Who knew my best friend was such a slut,” he cooed softly.

“Eds,” you whined slightly, your cheeks flushing when you felt his thumb press slow circles on your clit.

“Or maybe you’re just a slut f’me,” he teased, grinning a little when you nodded your head. “A shame, baby.”

Before you could even process his words or the way your stomach twisted in delight at his words, he was pulling his hand away and resting his hands on the table like nothing happened.

You gaped at him, your panties now soaked and your body desperate to feel his touch again but the boy just shot you a look.

“Later,” he said, eyes darkening a little when he noticed the way your thighs clenched together. “Keep ‘em on all day and you’ll get a reward later, in my van.”

You bit your bottom lip.

His lips grew into a smirk. “Gonna make sure that pretty little skirt of yours is fucking ruined, sweetheart, don’t worry.”

And then he returned to the conversation about his campaign like nothing was wrong.

#eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fic #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson smut #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #stranger things x y/n #stranger things fic #stranger things one shot #stranger things smut

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violentdelightsandviolentends · 1 month

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Cherry Pie. aka - Cherry, Part Three.

There are certain things in life that can’t be denied. You’re starting to think maybe you and Steve are one of them.

pairing - bestfriend!steve harrington x female reader

warnings - smut. cursing.

word count - 2.6k

authors note - part three has arrived!! thanks for your patience, angels. thank you for all your continued enthusiasm and support for this series. I love them and I love you <3 as always, please reblog if you enjoyed!! it’s the only way to circulate my fics <3

masterlist. inbox. series masterlist.

“The prettiest girl in the world just walked in.”

“Your mom?”

“Funny, Harrington. Try again.”

“My Cherry?”

Robin smiles knowingly, nodding her head. Not only did Steve automatically associate you with the phrase prettiest girl in the world, but he called you his. Some days, she wished she could slap him square across the face in hopes of waking him up to what everyone else could see so clearly.

“Hi, you two. Working hard, or hardly working?”

You giggle, and the sound bounces off the metal shelves of the Family Video Store. Steve’s mesmerised, stood unmoving with a beaming grin on his face.

“I’m the first, Steve’s the second.”

The boy kicks his coworker in the shin, laughing when she pinches the bare skin of his arm in retaliation.

“Not true.”

Steve takes you in for a second, stuck still in his place. You’re wearing his favourite sundress, all patterned and pretty in front of him. Your lips are glossy and skin glowy, sneakers on your feet a perfect white. The perfect picture of a summer day.

“What are you doing here?” Robin asks, breaking him out of his haze. He snaps back to reality and throws an arm around your shoulders, kissing your temple sweetly.

“I was nearby anyway, thought I’d come in and see if you were busy. And I had to remind Steve to pick a movie for tonight.”

“We’re not watching a romcom.”

“We’re watching a romcom,” you say at the same time as Steve while Robin laughs.

“I better grab the new stock from the back. See you later,” she says, winking at the boy who still has you pulled tight into his side.

He rests his chin on the top of your head, inhaling the scent of your cherry conditioner and vanilla body wash. If Steve gets to heaven, he’s convinced this is what it’ll smell like.

“I finish here at 6, so I can come and get you, or you can wait for me at my place? Your choice, Cherry Baby.”

“I’ll wait for you. I was thinking I’d make us some dinner anyway, ready for when you get home.”

Home. Steve’s brain short circuits, a vision of a domestic life with a white picket fence flashing across his mind. He cups your face in his hands, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Sounds perfect,” he whispers.

You’re a little confused by all this sudden affection, but the last thing you’ll ever do is complain. If he wants to kiss you until you’re dizzy in the middle of this Family Video Store, then so be it.

“I should leave you to get on with stuff.”

“You could stay all day, if you wanted. We could make you wear the uniform and everything - no one would suspect a thing.”

You laugh, nudging his foot with yours.

“As tempting as that is, I have a little more shopping to do. And I have to get ingredients for later.”

You pick up your bag, swinging it over your shoulder as you look at him.

“See you later, Stevie.”

“See you later, Cherry Pie.”

You’re halfway out the door when he calls your name, head whipping around to face him.

“You’re so pretty. You know that, right?”

You look at your shoes, suddenly bashful at his boldness.

“You too, Stevie. Prettiest boy I know.”

You both go about the rest of your days floating on air, high on the giddy sweetness of it all.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

Steve almost passes out when he unlocks his front door.

There’s candles lit and music playing softly, the kitchen alive with movement. Something smells delicious, and he can hear you humming along to a song he thinks he recognises as you chop and stir. He can picture it perfectly before he even enters the room, but the sight still knocks him off balance when he finally gets a good look at you.

“Honey, I’m home!”

You spin from your place at the stove to grin at him, petticoat trimmed apron tied around your waist to protect your dress.

“Darling! I’ve been waiting all day for you!”

You curtsy in mock greeting, which makes Steve laugh much harder than it should. He strides over and gathers you in his arms, squeezing you a little tighter than necessary.

“Steven, I saw you a few hours ago. You’re acting like you’ve just returned from war.”

“Forgive me for missing you,” he mumbles into your hair.

You sink into his embrace anyway, tangling your fingers into the back of his shirt and inhaling the familiar scent of it.

“Something smells really good.”

“It’s my famous cherry pie,” you grin, pulling back to look up at him. “Made it just for you.”

“You’re an angel,” he exclaims, spinning you around on the tiled floors. “An angel sent just for me.”

You try to ignore the way heat rises across your chest, his compliments warming your skin.

“Let me take it out of the oven, and then we’ll eat. You must be starving.”

He laughs, because you know for a fact he’s always hungry. You know everything about him. It should scare him, spook him, make him nervous. Instead he hums with the excitement of it, body alive with the anticipation of it all.

Steve changes out of his work clothes as you plate up dinner. He comes back downstairs to see you sat at the table waiting for him, all patient and pretty. He wonders momentarily what he’s done so right in life to be rewarded so greatly.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

“So you totally brought me a romcom, right?”

Steve wants to deny it, wants to tell you that actually he stood his ground and stuck to his word. Instead, he says,

“Of course I did.”

And you laugh, all silvery and melodic, because you knew he’d cave. He can’t say no to you, even if he wanted to. You don’t use it to your advantage as often as you should. Steve wishes you did a little more.

“I’ll make popcorn if you get the video set up.”

Snacks made and movie ready, you settle in next to Steve on the couch. The two of you always follow the same routine - you sit separately, a fair distance between you, watching the movie with your hands to yourself. Then, slowly, you migrate towards each other, until you’re pressed together without an inch of space to be found.

The same thing happens tonight.

You end up being spooned by Steve, both of you laying across the couch cushions. Your back is pressed to his front, legs tangled together, his arm keeping you bracketed in to him. He’s hooked his chin over your shoulder to watch the TV, pressing kisses into the skin of your neck absentmindedly every now and again.

The film Steve picked is one you’ve seen before, but you’re not about to tell him that. Instead, your eyes slowly slip closed, the steady rhythm of the boys breathing lulling you into a sleepy haze. He traces patterns over the exposed skin of your stomach with his fingertips, chuckling slightly when you flinch as he brushes a ticklish spot.

Your hips roll back into his as you try to adjust your position, and Steve’s breath hitches in his throat. He inhales deeply, waiting for you to settle back down.

You don’t. You keep wriggling, clearly uncomfortable as you sink further into the couch cushions. Steve tries to help you, strong arm pulling you up and into him. You jut your hips once more, and he can’t help the small groan that leaves his lips.

Your eyes flutter open, adjusting to the flashing lights of the TV illuminating the room. The movie is still playing, but you know it’s almost finished. Steve’s arm is tight around your waist, his breathing heavy against your shoulder. You shift your hips to alleviate the pressure on your tangled legs when Steve sucks in a harsh breath, startling you.

He’s warm behind you. So warm. His chest is moving ragged, panting against your bare skin. His fingers grip your thigh tightly for a second, before letting it go and soothing over it.

Oh. Oh.

You’re wide awake, suddenly. Liquid heat spikes its way up your spine, all prickly and electric. You’re not sure what your next move is, but lust is clouding all five of your senses.

“Steve.”

“Cherry.”

“Steve.”

You try to say his name more firmly, but it just comes out as a whine. The sound shoots straight to Steve’s core, his hips bucking into your ass involuntarily.

“You okay?” he mumbles into your ear, grip on your thigh tightening. His fingertips dig into your skin, and you pray you’ll still be able to feel it tomorrow.

“Yeah,” you breathe, but it’s a lie. You’re not okay. You’re on fire, every nerve ending in your body alight with molten heat. You think you might be shaking with it, hoping Steve doesn’t notice.

His hand smooths up from your thigh to just under your breast, resting gently on your ribs. Your heart is fluttering like a hummingbirds wings, frantic and delicate. He can feel it through his fingertips.

“I love you, Cherry Baby.”

You lose your breath momentarily, reminding yourself how to inhale. He always does this, always catches you off guard by telling you he loves you in the moments you expect it the least. It always means more, in times like these. He could have said anything to you just then, but he chose I love you. You don’t know whether to laugh or cry or neither or both.

“I love you too,” you choke out. “So much.”

You grind your hips back into his, grinning when he groans all low and buttery. His hand glides up to cup your chest, squeezing gently as you arch into him.

“What do you want?” he asks slowly. “Tell me what you want, babe. I’ll give you anything. Need to hear you say it. Wanna hear you say the words.”

You let him ramble for a minute, trying to put your thoughts in order. You try as hard as you can, but all you can say is,

“You.”

Steve buries his nose into your hair, pressing a kiss into the space behind your ear gently.

“You’re killing me, baby.”

“Want you so badly, Steve. Please.”

The hand that’s on your chest dances down to your stomach, slipping underneath your sleep shorts. He traces his fingers over your underwear, moaning when he feels them completely soaked through.

“Shit.”

“Stevie.”

He strokes you gently, hips rutting into your back when yours jolt into his hand. Eventually, he pulls your underwear to the side, running his fingers through your wet heat before slipping two inside.

You keen instantly, back arching into him. His lips find home in the juncture between your neck and your shoulder, teeth biting down occasionally to try and stifle his desire. You move your hips in tandem with his rhythm, grinding down to try and find the right spot.

“Yeah, fuck, that’s it. Atta girl. Ride my fingers, sweetheart. Take what you need.”

His voice is like melted honey, all golden and warm. It’s making your bones turn to liquid, sinking further into the hold he still has on you with his other arm. Every inch of you is plastered to every inch of him, not a millimetre of space between you. You’ve never been so connected, both physically and emotionally. It’s like the tectonic plates are shifting, the very foundations of your lives changing right in front of your eyes.

Your chest is heaving, panting like you’ve just ran a marathon. All you can focus on is the white heat building in the pit of your stomach, volcanic and bright. When Steve crooks his fingers, you cry out, tumbling over the edge into a blind freefall with no parachute.

“That’s it, baby. Good girl.”

“You’re so good f’me. Doin’ so well.”

“Ride it out, pretty girl. Fuck.”

“Make a mess, there we go. Just like that.”

You’re not even registering his words, but you know that he’s praising you. He always is. He thinks you’re an angel, sent down from heaven to teach him what love is.

Steve ruts his hips into your back, groaning as he finishes. He can’t even find it in him to be embarrassed. The feeling of you writhing in his hold as you tightened around him was his undoing, whether he wanted it to be or not. He doesn’t mind.

You go boneless, head dropping back into his shoulder. He presses kisses onto your temple, your cheek, your neck, anywhere he can reach. You sigh in contentment, and Steve wishes he could bottle up the sound and take it like a shot of espresso every morning.

“You okay?”

You nod and then giggle, dopamine rushing through your blood. You’re almost lightheaded with it, floating on cloud nine.

“Steve?” you whisper.

“Yeah?”

You turn in his hold to finally face him, taking in the sight of his flushed cheeks and messy hair. You rest your sweaty forehead against his, panting into his mouth.

“Want it to be you.”

He pulls away slightly to get a good look at your face, eyes a little wide with shock.

“You mean…”

“Yeah. You don’t have to, if you don’t want to, but if you do, I guess I, um… there’s no one I trust more than you.”

“You know you can only lose your virginity once, baby.”

“I know. Which is exactly why it should be you.”

He grins at you, all giddy and love drunk, bumping your nose with his.

“You’re sure?”

“One hundred percent.”

Steve leans in to press his lips to yours, all slow and tender, kissing you as if you have all the time in the world.

Perhaps you do.

“Not tonight, obviously,” you murmur, chuckling under your breath. “Don’t think you could handle that.”

He scoffs, pulling back from you in disbelief.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You just came in your pants and I didn’t even touch you. Who even knows if we’ll make it to actual sex.”

Steve pinches your sides, wrapping his arms around you so you can’t escape. You laugh, trying to squirm out of his hold without luck.

“You’re gonna be eating your words, Cherry Baby.”

You shake your head, blinding smile still etched on your face.

“You know what I am gonna eat? My cherry pie. I’m starving.”

Steve groans at the thought of the dessert sitting on the counter in the kitchen. No one does a cherry pie quite like you.

“Hell yeah. Let’s do it. There’s ice cream in the freezer, too. That vanilla bean one you like.”

You peck his lips before standing up on shaky legs, wincing as you do it.

“You good?”

“I’m gonna need a new shirt. This one’s sticky.”

You look at him with a raised eyebrow and he can’t hold in his laughter, the sound of it booming around the quiet room.

“Shut the fuck up,” he jokes as he throws you over his shoulder. Despite your protests, he carries you up the stairs, smacking your ass a few times on the way for good measure.

When he puts you down, he cradles your face gently, looking into your eyes with sincerity.

“It’s me and you forever. You know that right?”

You know what he’s trying to say. I love you. You’re it for me. There never has been and never will be anyone else.

But neither of you are quite ready for those words. So instead, you say,

“I know. I’ve always known.”

And that’s enough, for now.

@psychicnerdcat @allcheesemelts @valerievortex @swiftsgirlfriend @steviespookie @betweenstarsandsatellites @mrsjoequinn @internallysalad @saucypeanuttt @empathyroad @niceskyler @spookysins @theoraekenslover @7minutes-tomidnight @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @livsters @diffrent-spokes @regular-joe-shmoe @ihatepeanutss

for some reason I didn't tag some people from part one in part two... no idea why. sorry!

#steve harrington fic #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington x reader fluff #steve harrington x bestfriend!reader #bestfriend!steve harrington #bestfriend!steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x bestfriend reader #stranger things x reader #stranger things smut #stranger things fluff

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canthelpit0 · 6 days

Text

Cry Baby

Pairing: Matt x crybaby!popular!reader

Wordcount : 3.3K+

Summary: you were popular. The jester of the group. But atleast it was something. Nobody knew just how much you’d been struggling, until your secrets were exposed in the school cafeteria.

Warnings: swearing, angst, crying, mentioned of depression, Matt’s PoV, sensitive!reader, mentions of SH, SH mocking, humiliation, exposing secrets, fake friends, hurt/comfort, pet names (baby), use of y/n

(A/N: I wrote this based of this song. Bcs I was listening to it and had this scenario in my head, so I wrote it down.)

You had always been a bit of a crybaby.

You’re the oldest sibling. Your mother thought she couldn’t have any children, but she had. You were a blessing to her.

So after you were born you were never put down. Someone was always with you. To keep you from crying, entertaining you. Caving to your needs.

But once you got to kindergarten, it seemed that all those times your parents hushed you and made sure you didn’t cry had bottled up.

You didn’t speak a lot. You didn’t like socializing with people. You kept to yourself and that’s how you liked it.

You had severe attachment issues to your mom though. Because of her always being with you to soothe you, her not being there seemed like a nightmare.

So when she dropped you off at kindergarden, every day, you would cry, begging your mom to stay.

Eventually you got used to it, but you quickly found a friend to cling to.

Emma, was your one and only friend. The only person you talked to.

It was pretty much the same in elementary school. You’d trod around and talk to people. You were a bubbly social kid.

But you were also easy to break.

You didn’t have a lot of friends. All friends you had were only people you’d hang around in recess.

Emma stuck with you though.

Until, middle school.

In middle school you’d, for some reason, fallen into a depressive mindset.

Emma and you were in your awkward middle school phases. And in that time she’d become really rude.

And one day during a fight she told you how much she hated listening to your sobs.

You’d been vulnerable around her. You had trusted her.

And she’d broken that trust. By telling you that every time you had seeked her comfort she actually didn’t want to give it to you.

Your heart’s too big for your body.

You two stopped talking after that day. Until four months later Emma apologized for her words. You, being an empath, excepted the apology and went back to being friends with her.

Little did she know that her words rang through your head while you cut yourself.

A few months after you became friend again, she moved. She moved out of the country. You never saw her again.

So for high school you had taken it spoon yourself to mask your depression and ‘get over yourself’.

You started to dress more basic, learning to do your make up, hair, skincare. And basically everything to hide your miserable state the best you could.

Somehow it worked.

You had good facial proportions, and just a little bit of work you looked like a basic mean girl who is full of herself. But that was exactly the point.

Somehow, once High school started, you managed to get into the clique of the popular girls.

You were always so upbeat, cheery and talkative. No one could ever guess that you’re the most depressive mother fucker in a 50 mile radius.

Though as much as you would like the power of being the leader of the group, you were not. You were more like the jester of the group than anything.

You had held your mental breakdowns to a minimum. Holding back as much as you could. You only had Few panic attacks nowadays. And if you had one in school, you always had a touch up make up bag there.

Now it was senior year. You got ready like usual, not knowing that today would alter your life and the way people perceive you.

Matt’s PoV

I watch in horror.

Y/n is one of the popular girls in our school.

I’m not too popular. But I’m well known, all due to the fact that I’m a triplet. And due to the fact that Nick and Chris are really extroverted people.

Both of them are currently not with me.

Chris is sick at home. While Nick is in the library with some of our female friends.

I sit at my table with the lacrosse team around Me.

The entire cafeteria has their eyes focused on y/n.

She was arguably the prettiest out of all the popular girls.

But right now she was crying, Biting her lip. Her head tilted forward in shame at the claims her group was throwing at her.

The leader of the popular girls, Kelly, was accusing y/n of stealing her boyfriend at first, yelling right in her face. She yelled right back at Kelly though, not scared to stand up for herself.

But Kelly being the leader of the group, all the other girls sided with her.

I never understood why people would talk, or would argue, about stuff like this in public places. It was humiliating.

I was getting second hand embarrassment just watching.

The insults were getting more and more personal by the second.

Nobody was doing anything, captivated by the scene unfolding in front of them. Some people have their phones out filming for, ..who knows what reason.

I drown out most of the insults-

“IS THAT WHY YOU FUCKING CUT YOURSELF?” Kelly yells right back in y/n’s face.

The cafeteria had already been quiet. But with those words even the quiet conversations stopped. It seemed like everyone’s attention snapped back to the scene.

It was the passerby effect in full force. No one was doing anything, too shocked. Not even the teachers that were present said anything.

It was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

My ear start ringing, my eyes staying glued on y/n.

To me, it was obvious that something about y/n was off. She was polished to perfection. To a concerning degree. Nobody was that perfect.

So the revelation didn’t necessarily shock me. But the fact that Kelly was heartless enough to air y/n’s business out like that.

“I don’t.” Y/n’s words cut harshly through the quiet cafeteria. Her words are insistent like she was telling the truth.

She was a great liar, yet everyone would believe Kelly over her. Even if it was a lie.

“Oh but you do.” Kelly scoffs looking at the people y/n used to call friends. They all nod at Kelly’s statement.

“You have those scars all over your wrists.” Kelly points out nodding down to y/n’s wrists.

It’s like everyone takes a collective look down at her arms to see if something is actually there.

Me being so far away from their table I can’t see it clearly. But I really don’t want to anyway.

I watch as Y/n lets her head fall forward letting out a small laugh, shocking everyone in the cafeteria including me.

Y/n’s hands are trembling and shaking. She purses her lips looking back up at Kelly who looks at her with superiority.

Y/n picks her head back up and leans her head up to readjust her hair. Her hands ball into fists before she crosses her arms, trying to keep her composure.

Even from being a few tables away from the scene i can clearly see the tears running down her cheeks.

She huffs a laugh through a sob.

“Some friends you fucking are” she says harshly her glare focused on the girls around Kelly that she used to call friends.

The cafeteria is silent again for a moment the only thing heard being y/n’s soft sniffles

“Crybaby” one of the girls huffs under her breath, but its loud and clear in the silent cafeteria.

“Fuck you Rebecca.” I hear y/n’s voice snap at the girl. Despite crying her tone was still sharp.

“What’re you gonna do about it, gonna go home and cut yourself some more?” Another one of the girls in the group scoffs.

Y/n lets out another miserable chuckle hearing the comment.

I purse my lips remaining seated. I probably look miserable right now. I don’t want to be watching this. Hell I would like to stop this, but I can’t.

Before y/n can fire back though more and more comments from all the girls pore out. And the more: “you gonna kill yourself?” “you gonna cut yourself?” remarks they make the more humiliated y/n looks.

By the end of their relentless comments and bullying y/n is crying sobbing. And as someone with anxiety I can see the inevitable anxiety attack, in the way her entire body shakes.

With a strong “fuck you all” to her former friends y/n turns in her heels and leaves.

The cafeteria is quiet for a moment before the room breaks out in conversation, everyone gossiping about the scene they just witnessed. Debating how much of what was said was true.

I feel sick to my stomach knowing I had watched a girl just get torn down by her own, so called friends, like that, and didn’t do anything.

I mumble an excuse to my friends leaving the table. They don’t even seem to care emerged in their own conversations about the ‘gossip’.

I speed walk out of the cafeteria to find y/n.

There are only two places I can think of her being at. The girls bathroom, wich is probably not the case since she looked like she wanted to get as far away as possible,

Or her car.

She’d parked next to my van today. So I run out of the school to my car, to see hers still parked next to mine. I glance into it and she’s not in the drivers seat.

I get closer, catching my breath. I look through the window of the backseat seeing her sitting there curled up in on herself.

I knock on the car window catching her attention. Y/n’s beautiful teary eyes meet mine through the tinted glass.

She presses on a button on her car keys, the car unlocking.

Immediately I open the car door and slide in. My gaze soft as I look at the hyperventilating girl in front of me.

I close the door behind me. I gently take the car keys out of her hands. She was clinging to it like her life depended on it. I lock the car again and then lean to the front of the car and toss her keys on the drivers seat.

I turn back to y/n, she had her legs up to her chest hugging them while she continues to sob.

“Matt” she breaths out my name so tenderly.

We weren’t friends. But we shared one class in which we partnered up sometimes.

“Sh, you’re okay y/n” I breathe out. In an instant, my arms wrap around her smaller frame pulling her into me. I hug her from the side, her sobs wracking her body.

“No, no it’s not okay.” She lets out an irritated sigh, her breath hitching as a sobs Tores through her body again. “I just lost all my friends.”

I purse my lips holding her head. I cradle her into my chest. She didn’t deserve to have her stuff aired out like that, but all she was worried about was loosing her fake ass friends?

“Oh baby.” I sigh out. The nickname slips through my lips so effortlessly I didn’t even notice.

I keep her head cradled into my chest while I feel tears start to form in my own eyes.

“They ruined it.” She chokes out again, her voice shaky.

I breathe in heavily. “They ruined what?” I ask gently.

“My reputation”

I pause. My lips quiver at the sound of her cries. I try to blink away my own tears.

“That’s all you care about?” The words leave my lips before they register. I know she cares about all the things others say to her. She just seems like the type to.

“Matt, I spend so much time,” she sobs through the few words she said. Pausing to cry some more at the thought of it. “So, so much time, perfecting myself.”

I hear her pause again, and by this point I can’t hold back my own tears. I let out a soft sob crying with her as I hold her even closer to myself.

“I didn’t want anyone to know. It’s none of their business” her words are soft. But the more she talks the more quiet she gets.

In a way she was like me. Masking her sorrow like that. She always just seemed too perfect to be true.

Perfect hair, perfect makeup, perfect face. Great humor, nice, kind, popular.

But nobody ever questioned it. She had everyone fooled. She was a great liar. And even though I had my suspicions she never gave me a reason to believe I was right.

I just thought I was delusional for reading into things.

But I was right.

As much as I wish I wasn’t.

“I’m so sorry.” I whisper. I try to breathe hard as to not sob like she was. I wanted to comfort her not cry with her.

She pulls away slightly. I look at her. She still has tears running down her cheeks, not looking like it’d stop soon. She looks up at me through her tear stained lashes, her mascara only slightly smudged.

Her lips quivers as I see another wave of sadness wash over her. “Why are you crying?” She asks her voice shaky. She lets out another choked sob.

Her hands cup my cheeks as we both cry looking at the other. “Please don’t cry,” the sight of my tears only seems to make her more sad.

But seeing the way she looked crying, I only wanted to cry harder.

She still looked perfect. Though her makeup was smudged slightly, her hair messy, her perfect features stained with her tears.

I gently grab her wrists slowly pulling her hands off of my face. I pull up the sleeve of her longs sleeved shirt and flip her arm to look at her wrist.

My gut clenches at the sight of the tiny white healed marks. They were barely noticeable anymore.

I had noticed them before when we had partnered up for some project. But out of respect I didn’t say anything. Besides they weren’t that bad, thin, white stripes messily across her wrist.

For all I knew it could’ve been her cat. I don’t have a cat, and neither have I seen self harm cuts before, so I wouldn’t know the difference.

I purse my lips. I let my head fall forward slightly my eyes closed. I feel sick to my stomach knowing someone as perfect as y/n was, or had been cutting herself at some point.

I hear a choked sob fall from her lips. I feel her intense stare burn through my scalp.

I pick up my head again, my eyes immediately looking to hers. She was crying again. Making me also shed a few tears again.

I bring her wrist up to my face leaving a gentle peck on it.

She watches me. The sight only making her cry more. She closes her eyes briefly.

It wasn’t like she’d expected me out of all people to shame her for her scars. But she also hadn’t expected him to just kiss them.

“You didn’t deserve that sweetheart.” I whisper under my breath. I pull her back in leaving a firm kiss on her forehead before cradling her head back into my chest.

She breaks out into sobs again her arms going under mine and hugging me tightly.

She was clinging to me tightly, her sobs wrecking her body, and also making me cry.

I gently pat down her hair,as she keeps crying, trying to soothe both of us.

“Y/n.” She pulls back slightly, her arm still wrapped around me. “Do you still..” I trail off not wanting to say it. Because if I say it, it’ll be too true.

Her lip quivers as I see her glossy eyes shed tears again. She lets out a gut wrenching sob again pressing her face into my chest again, mumbling “I’m sorry”s over and over again.

I sigh sympathetically, rubbing her scalp. I knew from experience, that after crying so much, your head would hurt so bad. And even though she was still crying I wanted to soothe her.

“Honey.” I say gently pulling her away from me. Our eyes meet briefly before she looks down in shame. I gently grab her cheek again making her look back up at me.

“Where do you cut?” I ask softly. I grimace at the words leaving my lips. I calmed down not crying anymore, but my eyes staying glassy.

Her eyebrows are scrunched together as she slightly pouts. Her eyes were still glassy, threatening to break out in sobs again.

“I don’t do it often..” she whispers under her breath, trying to over herself. Her eyes close briefly shame written all other her face.

“Where.” My tone is still low, but more firm, demanding an answer.

“My thigh.” She lets one of her Chanda fall from around me resting her hand on her very upper right thigh.

My eyes soften even further. My tears had dried in my face by now, but I felt just about ready to cry again.

I shift slightly. Her hand that had still been around me going to the bottom of my shirt and keeping a firm grip on the fabric.

I put my hand on her waist my touch featherlight, not wanting to overstep. “Is this okay?”

She purses her lips. Her eyes stay locked on mine as she tries to read what I’m trying to do. But she ultimately nods.

I put both my hands on her waist and pick her up from next to me putting her on my lap. She lets out a shaky breath her eyes going wide.

“Is this okay?” I enquirer my tone staying low.

Her bottom lip wobbles again. She closes her eyes briefly. “I don’t wanna go anything.” She breaths out her voice small and almost afraid.

My own eyes widen for a second looking back at her. I just realized how bad this looked without context. But I’m not a dick. I want to comfort her, not get in her pants.

I take my hands from her waist putting them on my thighs. Yet she doesn’t make a move off of me. Her hand stayed bunched up on my shirt.

“God, I don’t mean it like that.” I breathe out. “Just, me comforting you would be easier like this?” I says slowly.

Her gaze goes up to meet mine again, her lip quivering holding herself back from crying again.

She leans forward resting her face on my collarbone. She puts her other hand on my chest too as she starts to sob again. my right hand goes to her back rubbing it gently. While my left hand goes to her thigh massaging where her scars presumably were.

Her crying makes me tear up again. So we just cry together. My hand rubbing soothing motions into her back, and my other hand finally going up to cradle her head into me further.

I whisper encouraging words. Until eventually her cries die down, and so do mine.

She pulls back slightly, her eyes red rimmed and puffy. The tip of her nose and her cheeks red. And her lips as puffy as her eyes. She is a pretty crier, but the sight still makes me feel remorseful.

I put my hand back on her right thigh gently rubbing circles on it. My other hand going to cup her cheek. She leans into my touch relaxing more. She looked more tired than anything now.

“You can always talk to me, you know that.” I breath out, finally feeling like the lump in my throat was gone.

Her hand cups my wrist keeping my hand in her face. I start to rub her cheek gently looking at her pretty face.

“You can stay with me, Nick and Chris. Alright?” She nods slightly in answer.

I move my hand from her cheek to her hair rubbing at her scalp slightly. “You want me to take you home pretty girl?” I ask softly.

After all we were still in the school parking lot.

“Please.”

Masterlist

A/N: I actually cried writing this. the first part was actually literally me. and i also used to cry a lot, and cut, so this just made me cry while writing, bcs i relate to it so much. i love you all, stay safe & clean <3

‼️please don’t copy my work/idea‼️

Taglist: @muwapsturniolo , @sturnad , @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 , @evie-sturns , @me09love , @fratbrochrisgf , @spideylovin , @chrissgirlsstuff , @stunza , @whicked-hazlatwhore , @sturniooolos , @ecliphttlunar , @orangeypepsi , @klaus223492 , @char112244 , @sst7niolo , @slut4chriss , @mattsturniololoverr , @th3-3d3n-g4rd3n , @st7rnioioss , @t1llysblogs , @nonat-111 , @blahbel668 , @rockstarchr1s , @sturnsintrouble , @nayveetbhh

#spotify #matthew sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo angst #sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #angst #sadgirl

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bbangtans · 29 days

Text

daybreak | jjk | oneshot teaser

Summary: One of your favorite things to do when you were in your early 20s was stay up late where reflective conversations eventually blurred into nonsense as the sun rose alongside someone you thought you would spend the rest of your days with… Now you’re stuck in New York City for one night due to a delayed flight with that very person standing there in his leather jacket and guitar case in hand across from you at the airport gate. See, fate is a funny thing and Jeon Jungkook could always find the humor in anything.

pairing: rockstar!ex!jk x f!reader genre/tropes: angst, fluff, exes to ???, right person wrong time/second chances, jungkook is so romance film lead coded – charismatic and well-spoken and genuine and ughhhhh i be fawning frrrr, this takes place where both jk and reader are 28ish, jk is a lead singer in a band with tae-jimin-yoongi, and y/n is a working professional rating/warnings: M | alcohol consumption, lots of swearing, semi-public sex, unprotected sex (don’t be all willy nilly with this tho!!!), dig bick jk lmfao, oral (f receiving), heavy petting, multiple orgasms. a/n: inspired by my faaaaaave movie before sunrise bc if there’s anything namjoon and i have in common, it’s that we are yearners 🤝 word count: ~10k POSTED: link

You cursed every cliched metaphor referencing the elusiveness of time… the grains of sand slipping through fingertips, the ticking of clock hands that echo in the back of your head, the passage of breezes, and the eventual rising of the morning sun.

Jungkook smiled gently, wiping away a tear with his thumb which you didn’t even feel form as it fell down your cheek. “Don’t worry.”

“I just want you to know that I loved being in this moment. Sharing this night with you, that tonight it felt like New York was all ours. I could have never seen its beauty and experienced its magic the way I did with you.” Barely managing through your cries, you gasped for a breath as you tried to make out the next words. “But why did things have to turn out this way?”

The loud caws of the seagulls as they flew over the pier and the cold morning air fell onto forgotten senses as the only thing you could feel was the intensity of Jungkook’s stare on you. From your forehead that he placed a tender kiss upon, to your eyes that mirrored that silent longing his contained, the nose that he nuzzled against his, and chin that he held softly in his rough hand… It was like he was taking a picture of you at that moment. A moment where he was not rockstar Jeon Jungkook, but the Jungkook who always found a way to make you laugh and the Jungkook you dreamed of sharing matching rings with. And you were not the person living too fast for anyone to keep up with, but a person who could find the beauty in anything and the person that Jungkook could write a million and one songs about.

“Shh,” he comforted you as his arms wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you into his chest. “I really can’t thank you enough for tonight… I’ve never hated to see morning as much as I do now.” He chuckled dryly at the irony of all.

You pulled back, surprising the man who towered over you. You held his confused face in your hands and smiled. “Me, too. I hope you know that.”

“I do now…” He whispered as though louder words could break the moment before placing a chaste kiss on one of the hands that cupped his face.

“Now what?” Your hands fell from his face and rested on his chest.

Jungkook sighed in contemplation as he peered past you into the blossoming orange horizon before recentering his eyes on you and grin losing its warmth and being replaced with sadness. “Good morning, I guess.”

The gravity of the situation settled upon you both silently.

“None of that dramatic ‘goodbye’ shit in the morning!” You tipsily pointed at Jungkook with your beer who only laughed at your theatrics as some foam spilled.

Between chuckles, Jungkook was barely able to let out. “Okay, then what do we say at the end? When it’s morning?”

“What people always say at that time – ‘good morning’ and not goodbye. Let’s make it a nice ending for us, I feel like that would do us both justice.” Your gaze was too hazy to see the seriousness that lined his face but he shook it off and plastered his signature smile despite the storm in his heart. “I know it’s a little cheesy, but I don’t want to be sad in those last minutes with you.”

“Okay, we’ll bid each other ‘good morning’ when dawn comes then we go on with the rest of our lives. No sad stuff.”

“Promise?”

“Yeah, I promise.”

“Good morning, Jungkook.” No matter how dazzling your smile was, Jungkook could never be distracted from the tears that lined your gorgeous eyes.

No physical closeness could ever combat the weight of what daybreak meant for you both.

#jungkook #bbangtans ff #bts fanfic #bbangtans jk ff #bts #bts x reader #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #bts x y/n

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yoohyeontual · 2 years

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I have to go to sleep, but I’m so scared of being alone with my thoughts 😭

#a****#i sentence is playing on repeat in my head and it kills me every time #and I’m on the verge of crying everytime i think about all this #i thought I would regret it but I do I thought I would be okay since I was fine with being friend for years when she didn’t know #now she knows and It terrified me it’s really not the same feelings at all #and during the day I can distract myself enough to not think to much about it but once I’m in my bed I can’t 😭#and I’m too sad to think about happy things 😭#I’m trying my best but it’s so hard #my mom dosen’t help she again turn everything against her and I got mad #i was mad cause my recipe didn’t work and I don’t feel at my best so anything can make be break down tbh I almost did #and my dad made a joke and she got mad at him cause she can’t take jokes #but she started to say she should leave the house cause he’s mad at her (he’s not she is is) and cause I’m mad ‘for no reason’#when she knows I just got mad at what I did 😭#my dad is leaving on a fishing trip I’ll be alone with her until Sunday someone help me she better stop getting mad at everything #I’m not in the mood to even stay awake right now #but I’m so tired I really need to sleep I’m tired 😭#at least I will wake up with some Twice tomorrow 🥰#I always wait until the morning to be sure I don’t get to excited or the song get stuck in my head and I can’t sleep after fkbsjdns #and I will reblog all the beautiful gifset everyone does cause right now I’m avoiding them :’))))#also trying to find a slow song before sleep is so hard everything makes me wanna cry 😭#alex.txt #tw negativity

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reverie-starlight · 2 months

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{peace - atsumu}

would it be enough if I could never give you peace?

putting this down as fem!reader, only because there are some specific nicknames I wanted to use (pretty girl, sweet girl, etc) no physical descriptions though!!

very soft fluff, like disgustingly soft. this is loosely based on one of my absolute favourite songs <3

“I feel so safe with you…” you mumble one night while resting against his chest.

it’s been a busy evening- going to one of his games and then to your work party immediately after. needless to say, the both of you are very tired. so tired that when you got home an hour ago, just past midnight. he had to help you get your pyjamas on and drag you to the bathroom before you flopped into bed and cuddled close to one another. you’ve been recharging with each other and focusing on some quality time you missed out on during the day.

atsumu feels his heart squeeze at the sound of your sleepy voice, soft and quiet and matching the persona you often take on when you’re exhausted.

he sighs in content and strokes the cheek not pressed against his chest with his thumb. slow and gentle. “yeah, pretty girl?”

you nod a little, nuzzling further into his skin. “you’re so peaceful.”

he freezes a little out of pure shock.

atsumu has never considered himself a peaceful person.

he’s seen his fans online lovingly describe him as chaotic, heard his teammates refer to him as energetic and sometimes hard to keep up with. he’s gotten abrasive, overexcited, intense… and what’s more, the lifestyle that comes with being a pro athlete is anything less than peaceful to begin with.

he still doesn’t see those as inherently bad qualities, even now that he’s older and doesn’t let his ego run the show anymore.

however he’s got it stuck in his mind that he could never give you peace. would it be enough for you? would you stay with him ten years down the line, even with all the flaws that he believes he is? he’s not easy to love, he knows it, but is he enough to make you stay?

and then sometimes you say things like that, making him question everything, things that change his own perception of himself.

“peaceful, huh? weren’t ya running your mouth this morning calling me a freak for putting my milk in before my cereal?” he tries to joke.

you giggle a little and he holds you tighter out of adoration. “well you still are, but you’re also very peaceful.”

he’s silent for a moment but he can’t help but ask, “how do ya figure?”

you do your best to word it properly. he loves the way your face scrunches up as you think of what to say. “I always feel so calm around you. more calm than I’ve ever felt around anyone else. and so extremely safe. I can be myself with you and I don’t have to worry about anything when you’re around because I know you’ll be there to help me if something does happen.”

he doesn’t know what to say, but you solve that issue for the both of you with what you say next.

“you offer me a special type of peace I didn’t think was possible, ‘tsum. you’re my angel.”

you make it seem so simple, like there’s nothing in the world that could ever dispute it.

he can’t stop his eyes from welling with tears. he’s always been an emotional person- he knows, he’s been berated for it since childhood, both teased and defended against others by osamu for it. he wears his heart on his sleeve and it wasn’t until meeting you that he considered it an admirable quality. he feels things deeply, and this hits him deeper than anything else ever has.

but you’re just as emotional as he is, so when you look up and notice him trying not to cry, you immediately tear up too. “don’t cry,” you sniffle, trying to wipe his tears while a few run down your own face. “I love you so much, atsumu.”

he sniffles as well, voice thick and full of love. “I love you, too, baby. how’d I end up with such a sweet girl, huh?”

you shake your head. “I’m not, I’m just telling the truth.”

he laughs through his tears. “and being sweet while doin’ it.”

he presses kisses to your forehead, mumbling small thank you’s against your skin. “for the record, I feel the exact same about you. my angel.”

you crawl up a bit so you could be face to face with him. you kiss him properly and taste the saltiness of your mixed tears.

“I didn’t think I could ever offer that to anyone. I’m not used to hearing it, so I stopped believin’ it.”

your heart breaks a little but you’re quick to reassure him. “well believe me. you offer me more than I deserve.”

“that’s not true,” he’s always so quick to defend you. “you deserve way more than I could ever give you.”

you smile a little bashfully and then pull a face he recognizes as the one you make when you’re trying not to yawn. “alright, sweetheart, we should get some sleep.”

he strokes your cheek and gently rolls you off of him so your head rests against your pillow. he chuckles when you immediately choose to rest it against his chest again instead. he loosely wraps an arm around your waist and kisses the top of your head.

you listen to his heartbeat and drift off. your breathing evens out almost immediately and atsumu thinks back to a time when you used to struggle to sleep around him.

he smiles to himself, wiping the last of his tears and whispers something you just barely manage to catch before sleep fully pulls you under.

“sweet dreams, baby. I love you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

peace is one of my favourite songs ever, I very much relate to it. and I think atsumu would too. I wrote this at like 1 am so if there’s mistakes, or if it seems very all over the place, blame it on sleep deprivation and devastating brain rot for the boy </3

hope you enjoyed :)

some tags :3

@emmyrosee @dira333 @luvring

#atsumu x reader #atsumu x reader fluff #miya atsumu x reader #atsumu miya x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #atsumu fluff #haikyuu x reader fluff

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icanseethefuture333 · 3 months

Text

PAC: What your pretty self needs to hear for Valentine's Day ♡

Your heart's message to you + a message from your secret admirer 💌

They say the truth ain't pretty, but coming from that pretty mouth

The truth is fitting, cause you ain't ever talkin' loud

And you know plenty

Yeah, you know what I'm talkin' about

Cause you just get me

Yeah, you so pretty... ♡

Pile 1:

Your heart's message to you:

Shufflemancy -

Girl by Destiny's Child

Far by SZA

I MISS YOU SO BAD by iKON

The Lovers, Seven of Cups, & Three of Cups

So what your heart wishes to tell to you is that there is still love out there. You may have previously gotten over an ex, a past crush, or you are in the process of recovering from a break up. In the song "Far" SZA asks Sadhguru how to deal with rejection, in which he responds, "That's great! If nobody wants you then you're free." You have to look on the bright side of things. You also have to know what your worth is. No one else can define your worth but you. You have to be secure with who you are as a person. No one can love the parts you need to heal from. Once you feel fulfilled with who you are as a person. That is when you can form healthy connection with others. I believe you still are hoping for you and this person to get back together but you are hurting yourself even more by obsessing over this person (was going to say focus but instead I heard obsess). Reflect on your current situation and ask yourself, "What wound is this person triggering in me?". What do you need to move on from? To take care of your heart you should do some self reflection. Journaling and shadow work would help provide some clarity. Your heart asks you to not fall back into old habits. Self love is important for your growth, pile 1!

Your secret admirer's message to you:

Shufflemancy -

Time To Love by Red Velvet

Changes by Jeff Bernat

I Think I'm Falling by KOHH

Wallflower, New Love, & Union

There is a new love coming in for you! This person could be shy and likes to admire you from afar. They could be self conscious about some things about themselves as well. The feelings seem to be mutual here. There could be a new crush that you like and wish to speak to, but are to nervous to ask them out of fear of rejection. Don't fret! Confessing your feelings helps build courage. If the person rejects you, then that just means there isnsomeone else better out there for you. It is not the end of the world just because you got rejected. Have a little more confidence in yourself, you are great, pile 1! Regardless, I see you and this secret admirer actually being intimate. Things could develop into something more serious with this union card. So make sure to be open to this energy and give them a chance at love ♡

Pile 2:

Your heart's message to you:

Shufflemancy -

Mine by Slayyyter

ANTIFRAGILE by LE SSERAFIM

Post To Be by Omarion ft. Chris Brown & Jhené Aiko

Four of Cups, Eight of Wands, & The Fool

Your heart does not want to be tied down at the moment! I believe it has plenty of love to give lol. You also have no problem with turning people down or vice versa. You are looking for a fling and just wish to have a casual relationship! You could have a lot of options in love and would like to explore things romantically, maybe even sexually. Your heart suggests that you focus on your happiness and learn what pleases you. Love does not always have to be serious. Sometimes short lived romances have the best stories to tell! You will be feeling very confident and sexy in your romantic endeavors.

Your secret admirer's message to you:

Shufflemancy -

Boys Wanna Be Her by Peaches

No Flex Zone by Rae Sremmurd

STUCK IN MY HEAD by Twice

Open Relationship, Mature Woman, & Fun Times

This secret admirer of yours is honestly hilarious 😭. I kept getting meme songs and I hs to shuffle again to get a proper message. This could be my queer pile as well 🏳️‍🌈. I'm getting Renee Rapp vibes from your secret admirer, Pile 2 😋. They could suit the 'girl crush' aesthetic or if it is someone who identifies as masculine, they have a very pretty face. They are open minded, flirtatious, and exciting to be around. This person wishes to tell you that you are stuck in their head! They find you to be "so fine" 😜! They would like take you out soon. I'm getting it will be a bar date or they will take you dancing at a night club.

Pile 3:

Your heart's message to you:

Shufflemancy -

More Than Enough by Alina Baraz

Bluffin by Brent Faiyaz

Mona Lisa by Naji ft. Monter Booker

Death, Six of Swords, & Six of Pentacles

Oh, pile 3, bless your heart 🥹. You are someone who has such a kind, gentle heart. You have the purest intentions and for that people can tell how geniune you are as a person. You could be selfless and caring towards others. You have so much love to give that it is obvious to others. I don't see any bitterness in your heart and I feel like your heart wishes to tell you how proud it is of you for being able to find forgiveness. You are leaning to let go of the people who have hurt you in the past. The essence of your spirit is so soft and it's very beautiful to witness. Your heart's message to you is that anyone would be lucky to have you in their life. So don't ever feel like you are not enough because you're more than that. You are this cup that is overflowing with love and sincerity.

Your secret admirer's message to you:

Shufflemancy -

At Your Best (You Are Loved) by Aaliyah

Freaky Deaky by Tyga ft. Doja Cat

LOVE by Kendrick Lamar ft. Zacari

Dating, True Love, & True Gem

Your secret admirer absolutely adores you, pile 3. They see your value as a person and they know that there is no one else like you in this world. You have so much love to give and they do as well. I am getting that they want to literally treat you like a princess/princess - just overall royalty. Their have geniune intentions as well and they would like to spoil you this Valentine's day ❤. (Channeled song: Kiss It Better by Rihanna 💋) for a few of you, you and your specific person could be separated. I see that things will turn out for the better soon. So have faith in yourself and in this person for things to work out. They could offer you some sort of proposal, love offer, or a token of their gratitude to show how much they love you. I see things would be passionate, flirty, and romantic for you and your secret admirer 🎆.

Pile 4:

Your heart's message to you:

Shufflemancy -

Green Light by Beyoncé

Standing Next To You by Jungkook

God of Music by SEVENTEEN

Two of Pentacles, Page of Wands, & The Magician

You are such an optimistic person, pile 4! You could be someone who often gives advice to others and help others look on the bright side of things. You radiate such positive energy and it makes you a joy to be around. You could be someone who knows what they want and goes after it. You know how to balance your heart with your brain. Intuitive but also logical. People wonder how you are able to turn your ideas into reality. Your heart's message to you is to keep going after your goals and not let anyone distract you from your dreams. As long as you are happy that is all that matters. Your heart also wishes to tell you that whatever makes you light up inside is meant for you. Whatever your heart is set on whether that's a new job, house, etc. You have the ability to manifest whatever you desire.

Your secret admirer's message to you:

Shufflemancy -

Phone Me by Che Ecru

Novacane by Frank Ocean

Own It by Drake

Passion, Friendship, & Communication

For some of you, you could be currently in a "situationship" or have a FWB with someone. While for others, your secret admirer is possibly a friend of yours. This person is conflicted on how to approach you. You may receive a text or phone call from them soon where they ask you about your relationship with another. They could ask you how you feel about them or drop hints that they are attracted to you. The ball is in your park, pile 4, if you decide to be more than just friends with this person.

Pile 5:

Your heart's message to you:

Shufflemancy -

Girl Like Me by Alexa Demie

Fulfillment? By Kilo Kish

Baddie by IVE

Eight of Cups, Two of Cups, & Seven of Swords

I am getting like "manic pixie dream girl" vibes from you, Pile 2. Something about you is hard to pin point to others. Mysterious but also so enchanting. You know you are someone who is complex but also so beautiful. You have these interesting quirks that makes you stand out and memorable to others. You are comfortable with who you as a person and it could have took you a long time to get to a place of being this self assured. You could have a child like wonder as well and it is admirable to others. You could be questioning what direction to take in life and could find "adulting" very hard but don't give up, pile 5! Everything will be okay in the end. Your heart's message to you is to learn what gives you emotional fulfillment in life. Also to not take shit from no one. What's interesting is your face could look quite sweet but you are actually feisty and have a firey spirit. There is a duality to your personality and its attractive. I am getting like Song Jia, Alexa Demie, Wonyoung, & Taylor Russell vibes from you, pile 5. Your heart wants you to embrace your confidence and focus on the abundance in your future. Do not let people drag you down and dim your light. Your heart believes it is time for some self pampering. Set your standards high in love and know that you are deserving of everything you desire. I also believe it is time to burn bridges with people who no longer serve you. How can you live the life of your dreams if other people only acknowledge the version of yourself that no longer resonates with you? If you wish to be the girl of your dreams, you have to learn to put yourself first.

Your secret admirer's message to you:

Shufflemancy -

Lilith by Halsey

Ditto by NewJeans

High Fashion by Roddy Rich ft. Mustard

Triangle, Travel, & Spiritual Growth

What is this Single's Inferno?! You have options, pile 5. You could have more than one secret admirer. You could be observing your current options in love and feeling "Well! Let the best person win☺️!" I see people wanting to fly you out and pay for your trips, oh my🫠. One of the people you will date could be popular or have a well known social status. You give people butterflies and some of you may know what affect you have on people, while some of you are innocent to the fact. You could receive love confessions or you may even already have. I feel like you are the type of person who receives love letters, jewelry, candies, and box of chocolates, if not you are going to be spoiled for this Valentine's day! You could meet your secret admirer(s) while traveling or when going on vacation. Your secret admirer's message to you is that they "like you" and hoping you feel the same 💕. They want to understand your love language and words of affirmations / gift giving could be one of their love languages in particular.

Pile 6:

Your heart's message to you:

Shufflemancy -

Rose by Miyeon

Honey Dew by Lion Babe

Chanel by TiaCorine

King of Pentacles, Five of Wands, & Queen of Cups

I feel like you are at odds with your heart and brain right now, pile 6. You seem to feel confused about a decision you have to make. I believe you could think things are "sweeter" in other people's lives but that is not necessarily true. I know sometimes we can want what other people have but if it gets to the point of comparing yourselves to others then its not healthy. You have to remember to be grateful for what you have in life. It's okay to want the finer things, but what are you overlooking when you are doing that? Your heart's message to you is to not worry about what other people are doing in life and instead focus on what makes you great of a person. You are just as lovable, sweet, and beautiful.

Your secret admirer's message to you:

Shufflemancy -

Congratulations by Mac Miller ft. Bilal

Little Things by Sunni Colón

Aura by Mariah The Scientist

Work, Money, & Long Distance

I believe you and this person are already in a relationship. If not, your secret admirer will be the next person you end up in a romantic relationship with. This person could live further away from you and has a high paying job. They prefer to take on a traditional role of a provider. This person could have a hard time discussing their feelings though and shows their love through acts of services. While you, I feel you are more of an emotional person. You both could have a hard time expressing your feelings and thoughts properly to each other, which would cause conflict. Things might be tense for Valentine's Day. You and your secret admirer could have strong feelings for each other, but there needs to be an important conversation had in order for this relationship to progress. Both of you could be disheartened by this but there's hope! Try to appreciate the little things in your relationship and not focus on being the "perfect couple", for that does not exist. Every relationship has its flaws and all that matters is that you and you partner love each other very much. If it's meant to be, it will be, it won't be something you have to force, it'll come naturally.

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 6 months

Text

sink, m | jjk

you left your hair tie, battin’ those eyes by the sink, you leave ‘em behind think I know why – 'hair tie' by ØZI

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; friends-with-benefits going downhill thanks to shitty communication; smut (fem reader, f and m-receiving oral, heavy petting, m-masturbation, ball spanking, spit kink, breath kink, penetrative sex); non-idol!BTS – fuckboy?Jungkook x rock fan!reader tired of his shit XD inspired by the song above and ofc I referenced 'Too Much' ;)

You left your hair tie by my sink again.

Oh, shit, my bad. I’ll pick it up next time I’m over. :)

You left him on read.

Went back to brushing your teeth, looking down on the clear hair tie by your sink. It was one of those squiggly ones that were meant to not leave ceases in the hair. Not one of those that could easily be secured on the wrist. He must have taken it out right after. Well. He had needed it. You would have opened the window to get that cool night air, but Jeon Jungkook was loud when he was fucking.

Hm.

He sweat a lot when he was fucking. All over his back and chest, his skin glistening in the rainbow starlight generated by your mood lamp. You didn’t really care if the lights were on or off. He liked mood lighting, so he bought it and left it in your room so he could turn it on when he wanted to turn you on. Always tried to act all cool about it, as if you didn’t know exactly what he wanted when he hit you up. As if he actually needed to talk to you in-person about the latest installment of the Marvel universe.

Uh huh.

Somehow your back had ended up against his chest. Somehow his mouth had ended up by your neck and somehow his hand had ended up sliding under your shirt. Can’t stay too late, he always said. Same lines to the same old story. You half-scoffed into the mirror, switching sides of your teeth. The same routine, accidentally knocking the light switch, somehow knowing exactly where in your nightstand the remote for the mood lighting was, and then it was clothes on the floor. Your hand around his wrist and your hot breath by his ear, the fuck you think you’re doing?

“What? Too much?” he had replied with a smirk.

The shit Jeon Jungkook pulled.

Fuck it.

The hair tie must have been because he had planned to eat you out today. Precautions. He was better at it this time than the last. It wasn’t that his black hair was excessively long. A good amount simply fell past his ears when he leaned forward and, between your thighs, it stuck when he sweat. You might have lightly complained about it last time. Jungkook was self-conscious enough to remember and pull back the upper half of his hair before showing up at your doorstep. His own damn fault since he liked to plant his hands on your ass and drag you forward into his face, strong tongue consistently and firmly pressed to your clit and looking up at you with those round dark brown eyes of his. He had been trying to tease you but you saw right through him.

“A little higher up,” you had gently prompted.

The simmering waves danced through your veins as soon as he obeyed. Your hand had eventually found the back of his head. Crowning touch and locking your hips, feeling your slickness press against his lower lip and chin. The thought of your juices smeared into his double lip rings. Your tense thighs pressed into his jaw and cheeks. His long fingers sinking into the full curve of your ass.

The ghost of imprinted fingertips lingering on your skin.

You leaned over the sink bowl and spit out foam.

Jungkook had been truly annoying about it from the start. Needed to know that he was the best you had ever had. First kiss was an accident in the way that accidents don’t really happen. The kind of accident that was you getting into his face after he called you at three twenty-four in the morning and ordering you to stay on the line so he didn’t drunkenly pass out while walking home on a night out. He had even thrown up in some poor neighbor’s flowerbed mid-walk. The next day you had gone over to his place with take-out food and an annoyed attitude, confronting him after he had groggily brushed his teeth, smelling his minty breath as you scolded him that he was too old for this shit, right next to his bathroom sink.

Jungkook’s dark brown eyes had given you this look.

And you immediately knew how this was going to play out.

The kiss was to get you off my case, he said.

But.

“But… would you do it again?”

You rinsed your mouth out and applied your lip balm.

Not seeing yourself in the mirror, but instead seeing your shocked face from back then, squeezed between his bare arms and tasting the mint of his breath, strands of his black hair against your face. You remembered the way he smelled. Like warm, crystal-clear rain. The residual notes of cologne. You had found it later on his dresser. A square glass bottle.

Calvin Klein, Euphoria for men.

Strange, you had smelled that scent on other men before but he never smelled as good as it did on Jeon Jungkook.

But he did this shit all the time. A little kiss here. A little kiss there. Loved to disappear and pop up at just the right time when you were thinking about him and suddenly you were alone with exploring hands and a smiling mouth, is it too much, and you would reply in your most unfazed tone, shut the fuck up. He would promise he wasn’t fucking around but also he wouldn’t stick around either. You didn’t chase him but also you would blow his mind every time. Like that one instance where he had thrown himself into the wall and wheezed for air after you non-stop sucked him off for three orgasms straight, only stopping because you were done swallowing.

“Fuck… How does your mouth always get me hard so fast, f-fuck…”

“Told you not to question me,” was your calm reply as you wiped your lip with the heel of your palm.

There was no way that you were going to tell Jeon Jungkook that he was driving you insane with his behavior. Maybe he really wanted you to be the one to say it. But you weren’t going to, not with his constant, too much or next time or his stupid non-accidental leaving of his hair tie by your sink. He had shirts and sweatpants left behind in your apartment, just in case. The scent of Euphoria for men lingering on your bedsheets for a few hours, but it would disappear before the morning.

Just like him.

You knew Jungkook didn’t like it that you never tried to stop him from leaving.

“If you have to go, you have to go.”

If he wanted to, he would.

You left the bathroom, holding your phone loosely.

Jeon Jungkook looked up at the ceiling and wondered if she would let him love her the way he did.

He had a sinking feeling.

It started in the way that all accidents don’t happen. His finger hovering over her name in his contacts one too many times. More than one of those drunk times actually pressing it and then immediately ending the call. And then a single one of those extra drunk times not hanging up when she answered at the second ring. The fuck was she doing up at three in the morning anyway? His drunk brain was too over the moon to care though. His impulses uninhibited and his mouth going off before his brain could keep up.

Then promptly informing her that he needed to vomit and throwing up in some random flowerbed.

Not one of Jungkook’s best moments.

For some reason, she hadn’t completely written him off for that. Both a good thing and bad thing. A good thing because at least that didn’t disgust her. A bad thing because it made him fall in love a little harder. Then she had showed up on his doorstep the next morning with breakfast and looking like a million bucks. She looked too beautiful with tousled hair and that stern kindness. Even her lips moving as she chided him, you are not a kid anymore, you’re an adult, they looked so soft and inviting and she didn’t back away from he leaned in.

His head hurt like hell but he did it.

Her perfume was sweet and smokey and addictive.

He could still remember the feeling of her hand on his chest. Only thin white jersey separating him from those five fingertips. What are you doing? It was his fault. She put him on the spot and he couldn’t admit it fast enough. Getting you off my case. She shoved him and he laughed it off, setting a precedence that he couldn’t stop. No.

Didn’t.

“But… would you do it again?”

She had scoffed at him.

“Let’s see if you’re brave enough to meet me after dark when you’ve got a clearer head. Bye.”

There was something in that expression that dared him. Something in her body language that he couldn’t get out his head. Word on the street was don’t fuck around and find out, so Jungkook did precisely what any man would do when encountered with that information.

He fucked around and found the fuck out.

“Hey, now.”

Shit, her ass had looked so damn good in those black leather pants.

“You think I don’t know what you’re doing, punk?”

He had never met a better tongue. And her breath. He had begged her to breathe on him before. Hot and heavy like his heart, over his neck and chest and down his abs, warming the line of spit made by her wicked tongue. Unseen marks that stayed in his mind when he closed his eyes, looking down to her sensual stare, locking eyes with him as her tongue curled around the swollen head of his cock. Didn’t even need to look. So fucking hot. There was magic in that mouth. He never knew what to expect next but it was always exactly what he wanted. Soft and tight. Rough and deep. Warm tongue that curled around his girth and pressed him into the ridges, driving him insane with the sensations and the pressure.

If he had ever wanted anyone else, he had already forgot about them.

Jungkook refused to believe that she fucked anyone but him with that kind of vigor. She would place her palms on the headboard and ram her hips into him like he owed her goddamn rent. Pussy squeezing him all around. Dripping down his balls, sticking to his inner thighs. She would throw her hair back and grin after she blew his mind, sure, I can go again, like it was no big deal even though his chest was about to burst. He must be special.

Right?

He had brought a hair tie with him last night so his hair would stop sticking to his face.

He needed a haircut.

It made him so mad that she wouldn’t take the bait. She would corner him before he had his trap set and then he would balk under her stare, lips to lips to avoid saying anything. Hand to skin. Lips to his jaw, tongue playing with his earrings.

He just didn’t know.

Jungkook rolled in his bed, wishing it was her body beside his.

Stay away. She was a nightmare dressed like a daydream, everyone said. Road to ruin, everyone said. He didn’t care about that shit but he could feel the distance. Even between naked bodies and tongue to tongue, Jungkook got the feeling that she was never going to need him and that pissed him off. Was that stubbornness? Yeah. But wasn’t she being stubborn too by not giving in to what was so clearly there?

He had pulled the hair tie out and put it by the faucet, rinsing off his face to clear his head.

I’m not gonna stay if she doesn’t make me, he had said to himself, using her soft white hand towel to wipe his face. Looked at himself in the mirror and remembered that morning when she had come up behind him, yanking his shoulder and telling him he was too old for this shit. He wished she had done the same thing to him last night too.

But she hadn’t.

The sinking feeling persisted.

He texted back and he would get the hair tie next time. Next time. But she was pulling away and he didn’t know what to do. He didn’t like it. It made him irritated. It made him think he didn’t need this. It made him think he didn’t want anyone else because he was addicted to her now.

And.

It made him sad.

He looked to see if she had replied and of course she hadn’t. Reached back and pulled his shirt over his head, tossing it aside with a click of his tongue. Needed a shower. Needed to wash her memory off his mind. Maybe make an effort to call his friends and go out tonight.

Jungkook got up from his bed, holding onto his phone.

People were scared to be messy these days. But not you. The world was always going to be chaos. The only way to be in control of it was to be at the center.

Or start it.

You liked to be alone and you liked to be alone amongst people. The kind of feeling most people dreaded. You slid in deeper, deeper into the crowd, caged by body heat and bated breath. The world was darkness alight with neon points. The thundering bass traveling up from the floor seized the heart, threatening to stop it. A steady, continuous beat before the chaos. The other audience members where whispering amongst themselves in the dark. And there you were, standing in the vacuum of space surrounded by universes abound, and you the black hole, catching bits and pieces of their excited conversations, passively devouring in their palpable anticipation.

The music started.

The mosh pit came alive.

You had earplugs to prevent permanent damage for your dangerous pastime. Drums and guitar and guttural vocals. Bodies on the floor and leaning up against yours, even jostling you, but you paid it no mind, licking your teeth and letting the vicious, subline energy burn through you. It was hard to think about anything else. The band was alternative rock but they occasionally covered heavier songs live which was a real treat for your nostalgia.

A phase you never grew out of, heh.

You headbanged along and thankfully the hair tie kept the majority of your hair away from your face.

Not that it would have really mattered here. The concert was a psychedelic and everyone here was under the influence, lost in their own high, too deep into each song, reliving old memories and creating new ones. No one would care if you were sweaty. Everyone was sweating. Still, even with the mesh cutouts on the thighs, you probably shouldn’t have worn these leather pants. Now it was becoming disturbingly hot and you were really hoping adrenaline could make you forget about it. At least you had opted for a mesh long-sleeve shirt and loose crop top with the band’s logo on your upper half. Plus, you learned from last time – a skimpy black swimsuit top under instead of a bra.

Moisture-wicking, check.

“Nice jewelry.”

“Thanks,” was your quick reply between songs. They were talking about your tangle of silver bracelets and chain necklaces, you assumed. You did not really want to engage anyone too much. Rock bands tended to attract a lot of unsavory men. You never knew who you were amongst unless you trusted too much, so it was better to be distant and vigilant.

You tensed during the interlude as the band took a break.

“Are you by yourself? Me too.”

It was years of unfortunate experience that made you relax, because now you could tell the difference between someone you could hurt and someone that could hurt you. You didn’t check your phone when it vibrated while you spoke to the man who approached you. You could feel it and your cardholder practically glued to your hip in these tight leather pants. You weren’t going to get pickpocketed without a fight. But that wasn’t what this was. The guy was calm. Young face with an oddly wise aura. Seemed a little nervous. He was cute in a shy way.

Reminded you of someone.

Intimidating with his broad shoulders and all-black fit. Black hair swept over his forehead and soft dark eyes so large that they reminded you of boba pearls. You got him to smile easily. He had a brilliant, stunning smile. Apparently, he was supposed to meet a date and they flaked on him. It could have been a fabricated story, but he seemed genuine in the way he described it. Since he had already paid, he had decided to stick around. Noticed you because, unlike everyone else tightly packed in their groups, you thrashed alone. He said he was surprised that you had come alone. Even more surprised when you clarified that you had wanted to come alone.

“Well, big bad lone wolves like me can protect timid chipmunks like you, hm?” you joked.

After all, the world didn’t stop revolving just because Jeon Jungkook didn’t try hard enough.

That made him laugh and you let him enjoy the night with you. Even without knowing someone deeply, there was just something about enjoying music together that was its own intense experience. Bonded by bass and beating hearts, by the winded lightheadedness of whipping your heads too hard, by melodies that reminded you of darker times that made you stronger now, strong enough to be alone and casually with another, impulsively letting this strange wrap his arms around your legs and lift you so you could blow your lungs out and go hoarse during the last song.

You didn’t even feel your phone vibrate again because the bass was too fucking intense.

You bounced off that broad shoulder as the lights went down, laughing manically, electricity still simmering in your veins.

“I always wanted to do that.”

“Glad I could help,” the handsome stranger was chuckling. “You’re insane.”

It was, and you took it as such, a compliment.

You didn’t see Jeon Jungkook’s double text until you pulled out your phone to get this guy’s number.

Hey.

I see you.

A strange feeling. But you did as you intended and broke away, not lingering as the rest of the crowd filed out. You weren’t sure if this annoyed new guy, and at the moment you didn’t really care. Life, after all, was not a fairy tale. You wouldn’t have linked up tonight anyway, with or without Jungkook’s texts. The concert had been set in was a small venue next to a bar. People were either going through the side door or through the bar to keep the night going. You also followed towards the bar because you needed to get to the main street to get to the train.

If Jungkook had seen you, he must have brought tickets as well.

You hadn’t thought to even ask him.

You texted back.

You still see me?

Yeah.

You raised your eyebrows at the immediate answer, breaking out the crowd and moving towards the wall. You didn’t, however, look up. You weren’t about to give that satisfaction. Checked the time and the train schedule. Hm. You debated on whether or not to entertain this bullshit.

You look really good. Love your hair like that.

It took effort to not roll your eyes. Thing is, he could just approach you right now. The crowd was thinning out, but you ignored everybody and stayed glued to your phone. The only reason he wasn’t, then, was because he must be with others, which meant for some reason he didn’t want them to know that he was talking to you right now.

And.

That shit really pissed you off.

You cocked an eyebrow.

Come get your hair tie.

One of those times where you actually wanted to be left on read.

But he disappointed you.

Your place or mine?

You stuck your tongue in your cheek and dropped your hand, shoving your phone into your leather pants. Didn’t bother looking around. Just started walking out the door, thinking about the fastest route to the train station. Huh. Twenty-first century and Jeon Jungkook was out here thinking only guys like him could be fuckboys. You pushed through the smoked glass, out into the cool night and bustling street lit up with streetlamps and neon signs. Maybe you should have followed that stranger tonight. No. Deep down, you knew this wasn’t right. You shook your head at no one, whipping your hair about your shoulders, and began your brisk walk, Jeon Jungkook on your brain.

Fucking idiot.

He realized it too late.

The top of her hair had been pulled back, half-up, half-down, with wisps of bangs around her face, and he recognized those black leather pants, damn, her ass looks so good, and then he still didn’t get it as her shoulders slumped. She completely ignored his reply, walking out instead.

Ten minutes and then it hit him.

Come get your hair tie.

Fuck.

“Sorry, guys, I gotta go.”

“What? Why? Did something happen?”

“Yup, bye.”

“Yah, Jeon–”

He didn’t even wait to hear his name being called, instead jumping over the chairs in haste and one beat away from running, just now realizing how fucking stupid he was. His heart fluttering as he knew a little piece of him was with her, but he was also mad. One of his friends had suggested the concert thing earlier tonight, and they had arrived late, staying in the back with their beers and enjoying the music. It had been a small, dark venue, but it suited the band and their heavy sound. Jungkook thought he had been going a little crazy, thinking about her all night with a drink in his hand, so crazy that he thought he had seen her silhouette towards the front. Thought he recognized that flying hair and rocking shoulders, but, no way, right? Then that same girl was lifted onto a shoulder and bouncing with her hand held high.

Devil horns and everything.

Whoever it was tipped her head back and Jungkook swore he recognized that back and those body proportions. Then her hoarse voice entered the meld of screams and instruments and boosted bass.

And he knew.

She was with someone.

Someone that wasn’t him.

He wanted to remind her. Remind her it was him that held her last night, remind her it was his mouth between her legs and his hands on her ass, but mostly he just wanted to remind himself. He wanted to know who it was that she was with but she had emerged from the doors alone. Weird. It made him feel a little better though. Selfish, Jungkook knew, but so he was. He had stayed were he was, at a table with his friends, out of her sight, but she didn’t even look up. Really. She was willing to make him feel all kinds of fucked up and not willing to even look the fuck up.

Okay.

Come get your hair tie.

Yeah, okay. Okay, she wanted to use him. Fine. Fine, he was cool with that. But she left him on read. In fact, he watched her not look back and leave. Wow. And then it hit him and now he was running in the night, past flooding pools of light and wishing to catch a glimpse of mesh sleeves or black leather pants or even those heavy black boots with silver metal heel. Now he was throwing himself onto the train and trying to remember which one was her stop, wondering why he didn’t see the invitation for what it was. Now time was a thief stealing away the perfect moment and he was chastising himself for not chasing that feeling that he wasn’t so sure about.

You pulled the clear hair tie out of your ponytail. The squiggly kind that was meant not to leave ceases in the hair. The strands still ended up wild from the headbanging and the windy night. You ran your fingers through it haphazardly, annoyed when your fingers caught a snag. Scowling at your bathroom mirror as you untangled the strands and wondered why the fuck you ever let Jeon Jungkook get in your brain and drive you insane.

Fuck it.

Fuck him.

Your body was still on a high from the concert. Nerves alight, senses simulated, emotions caught in a rollercoaster. You yanked your clear earplugs out and cleaned them off in your bathroom sink, patting them dry with your hand towel and leaving them next to the hair tie.

You looked down at it.

Should throw it away.

Your hand reached out and then there were three loud thumps at your apartment door.

You jerked and backtracked, surrounded by no light except for the one from the bathroom. It was a short walk. You had to step past your heavy black boots, careful not to stub your toe on the metal heel, and peered through the peephole, seeing a large dark brown eyeball because Jeon Jungkook was too damn close to your door.

You yanked it open.

“The fuck–”

And froze.

He was panting, slightly hunched over. Wearing a black racer jacket with white stripes. It lay half off one shoulder, exposing the black tank top underneath and a peek of his right arm tattoos. Slate blue jeans with slight rips on one knee and black boots, but none of that made you stop and stare, not even his furrowed brow and annoyed expression.

“You cut your hair,” you beathed.

It was fresh. Sides cut short, with the top layer long enough to touch his brows. Currently half swept back, probably from running around. A few strands fell by his dark eyes, additional shadows to this harrowed tension. You backed up. He stepped in, one hand catching the doorframe.

Jungkook glared at you and you felt none of that fake frostiness.

“Yeah, I had a hair appointment today,” he huffed. “I didn’t come for the damn hair tie.”

It was all piling together. The moments of hands around each other’s waist, around his wrist, around his hard cock with his low voice in your ear. Don’t stop. The things unsaid and not said. The nights with him and the mornings without him. Backing away from Calvin Klein’s Euphoria still clinging to your sheets. Alone. The music of your youth, hard and rough and full of anger. The strength of a stranger and the cold air of the night, and suddenly you felt alive, alive and needing answers and fucking pissed off at all the shit Jeon Jungkook pulled.

You let him in your apartment, but not in your space.

“How did you know where I was going to be?” you accused.

The door fell shut.

Jungkook cocked his head. Dark eyes finding yours, cornering you with his gaze. You locked stares and did not back down. “Where else you gonna go but home?” he shot back.

You narrowed your own eyes and didn’t bite your tongue.

“How would a guy like you know what home even means?”

Goddamn, the one always knew how to hit him where it hurt.

He stopped moving forward.

But his heart was racing fast, remembering all the moments piling together. Lips to lips, hips to hips, and how tightly she held him, as if she wasn’t going to let him go. Not falling for any of the traps he set but drawing him closer and closer each time with that look in her eyes. Alone. Trying to forget how it felt to be held by her even through it was the most secure he had ever been.

Thinking about it now, maybe too much.

His voice wavered in the darkness between them.

“But, would you do it again?”

She paused at his question. Those eyes seemed a little less shadowy, a little less space between them but only for this second. Kept her hands by her sides though, not reaching out to him.

“How much of this was a lie?” she quietly asked.

He answered honestly.

“None of it.”

She scrutinized him. He stayed an open book. Mostly because he didn’t know any other way to cover up except run, can’t stay too late, didn’t know what was the right thing to do when clearly he had done so much wrong, didn’t know how this was going to end but Jungkook damn well knew this was gonna fuck him up for his whole life.

Silence.

That sinking feeling.

“You have time to spend?” she finally asked.

“Yeah.”

Must be a dream.

You closed the distance, trying to stay awake, watching his eyes. Waiting for Jungkook to run, as he did so many times before. He always had somewhere to be that wasn’t here. Following his dark brown eyes, the memory of his taste on your tongue, breathing in the clean scent of Euphoria, closer, body heat radiating off him, and Jungkook bit his lip, causing the two silver lip rings to catch what little light there was, like punctured stars in the darkness between you and him.

His lashes lowered.

You looked at him, unfazed.

Raised your hand.

Placed five fingertips on his black top. Thin jersey fabric between skin to skin, and you walked them up his chest, staring into the windows of his soul to find the truth. Your lips formed his name, but made no sound. His own followed suit, breathing your name under a tense exhale, not yet moving, shivering as your middle finger traced his chain necklace.

“You never have time to spend,” you murmured, your breath against his jaw.

He lowered his head, gaze flickering away. Then back, mumbling even though he meant it.

“I’m sorry.”

You raised an eyebrow and tilted your head.

Opened your mouth to chastise him, but all that came out was an exasperated chuckle.

“Don’t do it again.”

You pressed your lips against his.

Jungkook stole your breath and sank into you.

Your hand pressed into his chest and his arms slid around your waist. His fingers splayed out under your crop top, pressing the slinky micro-mesh against your skin and sending a tingling sensation up your spine. He tasted like haste and hunger. Warmth spreading out, squeezing your torso between leather-covered arms, gasping when your tongue flickered against his lips. Slow. Teasing. Dragging it out. Your other hand slid under his jacket, grasping the small of his waist and digging your nails in. He winced, a small whimper, then tried to cover it up by pulling back slightly, but your tongue remained, sliding out further between his open lips.

Your eyes cracked open to see Jungkook’s lashes flutter, his hot moan warming your lips.

“F… Fuck…”

Your tongue retreated.

Exhaled, giving it the weight that made it drift over his neck and chin. He sucked in a sharp inhale, opening his eyes too. A stand-off. His thighs pressed against your thighs. His erection was straining, even in his jeans. You traced your tongue around the perimeter of your lips, seeing him track the movement with bated breath, smiling slightly as his cock twitched.

He narrowed his eyes. “Can you not?”

You cocked one shoulder, smirking with the tip of your tongue at the edge of your teeth. “Why?”

The faintest of eye rolls. “You don’t suck my dick unless I shower first. And I haven’t showered yet.”

“That really sucks,” you hummed.

With just the correct about of intonation hat you had no sympathy. Especially since your hand was sliding over his ass to follow the line of his hip and then further down, hooking your thumb over the waistband of his jeans and molding your other four fingers around the unforgiving bulge. You heard him bite back a sound, pressing his biceps against you in warning, but you merely smiled, leaning forward to graze your lips against his cheek and jaw.

His cock pulsed strongly in your grip as you whispered into his ear.

Low and hot.

“That really sucks.”

Jungkook made a noise between a whimper and a growl.

But you didn’t care, pressing your breasts against his muscular chest. You knew he could feel your lack of bra through the layers of fabric, the confusion spreading over his facial features as you backed up. There was something there, his brain was working that out, but the swimsuit fabric was thin and your hard nipples were large enough for him to barely feel if he really flexed his pecs.

You unbuttoned his jeans.

He didn’t stop you because he would be crazy to.

The tension so tight that neither of you were breathing.

You grinned.

And yanked his underwear and jeans down at the same time.

You probably wouldn’t have tried this shit if it was someone else. Jungkook was habitual creature. The kind where he kept a small tube of hand sanitizer on him at all times, and you would catch him using it all the time, so absentmindedly that it seemed to have become second nature. He would do it after getting off the train. Walking aimlessly. Standing at your front door as you opened it, rubbing his hands together and directly looking at you, cocking an eyebrow.

The first time you noticed this action you thought he was being a creep before you realized it was hand sanitizer he was putting back into his pocket. He was not, in fact, imitating eccentric cartoon villain behavior. Had you in the first half, not gonna lie.

“What?”

It had been a pointed what at that time.

This time it was a sexually charged and gravelly, “What…?”

You squatted down and took his right hand, turning it palm up. Opened your mouth and drenched saliva all over his palm and fingers, the clean citrus scent of his hand sanitizer hitting your nose, hearing him hiss and feeling him tense. The tendons of his wrist stood out, black ink of his tattoos creeping out under the sleeve of the leather jacket. Your tongue lingered against the texture of his calluses along the top of his palm.

Guess he had been working out his frustrations.

“F-Fuck!”

You wrapped his spit-covered hand around his stiff length. Instinct and arousal and the slippery, tight, pleasurable sensation beat out any protest he had about what was happening, firmly and quickly jacking himself off right in front of your face. You calmly watched the glossy, swollen head pop in and out between his tightened fingers. All colors were desaturated due to the dark apartment. Didn’t matter. You had seen it enough times to know what he looked like.

You looked up.

Jungkook was looking down, gasping, the visible strain making his shoulders tremble. Jaw clenched, dark irises glassy, you’re so fucking pretty, shit, and you stuck out your tongue, enjoying the power. He shuddered, gripping himself tighter. Using your left hand, you hooked a thumb under the hem of your shirts, pushing them up, up, over your barely-covered breasts, revealing your hard nipples straining against the tiny black bikini top.

Those large brown eyes went wide, his lips parting.

“Oh, fuck…”

You used your right hand to shove the thin fabric away, scooping your breasts closer together to give him a good view, securing your left hand against your shoulder, easily holding the bunched-up fabric. Grinned, not hiding how pleased you were at his reaction. You lowered your right knee to the ground, stabilizing yourself.

And, now that your right hand was free, you reached forward and smacked his balls.

His black hair whipped in the air as his head snapped back, moaning sharply at the sudden impact. You slapped them again, and again. It was slightly slick from your own spit. Fast and firm. Not hard, since Jungkook hadn’t quite expressed the level he wanted yet, but then his head fell forward, erratic gasps and pupils blown out, squeezing the head of his cock hard, his entire body shaking.

“Harder,” he groaned out, depraved and deep.

You did as you were told, smacking harder and spreading out the hit over the entire area, keeping yourself exposed for him.

“Fuck… f-fuck…”

It was loud, lewd, and wet. His hand moving fast, and your fingertips repeatedly punishing his balls, his hips shaking in ecstasy. The scent of sex mixing with his crisp cologne, deliciously dirtying it. He turned his hand so it was palm up, knuckles down. You spat on his closed fingers and Jungkook moaned even louder, tipping his head back, sweat glistening along his throat.

Spit dripping down.

A bit of a mess, truly.

His head snapped back, fucked-out gaze, his voice rough and hoarse.

“Can… Can you breathe on me…?”

You leaned forward and parted your lips. Keeping eye contact, sliding your tongue out, and exhaled. Slow, heavy, saturated with warmth, leisurely drifting over his fast, tight grip on his hard cock. His eyes squeezed shut, drawn-out groan thundering in his chest. You did it again and his eyes opened, rolling back slightly, his lashes fluttering. You increased the pressure on his balls. The sharp smacks getting louder, wet thrusts, sensual sighs mixing with his desperate whine, and Jungkook tipped his hips down, fixated on watching himself cum onto your tongue and down your throat.

Hot, thick streaks.

You tilted your head back, drinking his orgasm down as you locked eyes with him, electric bliss simmering through your veins. His short black hair was damp with sweat. The strange feeling came back again, somewhere between a dream and reality, yet unmistakable clarity.

Fuck.

You were both sinking.

Shit.

“Don’t stop.”

To be honest, Jungkook didn’t like missionary for the sheer reason that she was too damn powerful in this position. Face too damn pretty. Tits too damn perfect. Legs on his shoulders letting him get too damn deep, soft thighs against his hard abs, pussy clenching around every centimeter of his length and not letting up, her hips smacking up every time he thrust down. Okay. It just felt too fucking good. It was a damn problem. He had to grind his teeth and fuck hard so he could slow down and not cum too fast. One would think the second orgasm would be difficult to reach, but one would be fucking wrong. His was rock-hard once she was naked and even harder when she dipped her fingers into her wet pussy to smear her juices over the throbbing head of his cock before he rolled the condom down.

“Are you a virgin or what – fuck!”

She was giving him that smug smirk of hers.

It both pissed him off and made him so damn happy.

A bitch faking it would be imitating shitty porn right now. That was why he never did missionary with any other women before her. It just made him limp. Better it hit it from the back and not have to look at their faces.

God, she was so fucking pretty.

“Always a virgin, only for you,” she snickered.

“I feel so fucking special,” Jungkook growled back, emphasizing each word by pounding her into the mattress.

He did, though.

Somewhere between dream and reality. That strange feeling as he watched her hands grip her pillows, her features softening as she fell into the pleasure, smacking her hips into his, their breathless moans blending together, primal harmony, and he knew he was well and truly fucked because instead of only drowning in the physical sensations of shoving his cock into that tight, wet hole, Jungkook was thinking about how he would wake up and bury his face in her hair the next morning, inhaling the scent of her sweet and smokey perfume, hoping other people could smell her on him, thinking about how lovely it would be to look over and see those eyes roaming over his face, every day and every night.

Well.

Shit.

She clenched around him particularly hard and Jungkook snapped out of his daydream.

Back into his lustful nightdream.

“Harder,” she hissed out, narrowing her eyes.

He was going to gasp, fuck you, but he was doing that already and there was no time to think because she sank lower into the mattress, angling her hips ever-so-slightly, and it was so deep, so good, so tight, losing his mind. Sweat dripping down his chest. He tucked his head back, trying not to get it all over her, bending his elbows and locking his muscles, driving his back and hips into his thrust, bending her in half and neither of them could breathe, closer, clawing up to the high, fast and intense and coiling tight in his chest, sinking down, down, deep down.

Airless.

His orgasm crashed into him so hard that his arms almost gave out.

“Fuck, Jungkook!”

He was sure that the noise that came out of him was not one he wanted to be self aware of. Something between a choked groan and whining moan, lost in the pulsating walls shivering against his jerking cock, wave after wave burning through him. The high seared him like electricity and the aftermath was layers of sparks building over his skin, tingling nerves and forgetting about anything else, suspended in this feeling.

Then his muscles screamed from fatigue and Jungkook realized his back was alarmingly sweaty.

“A… ah, hah…”

She plucked the white hand towel from her nightstand and flung it over his shoulder, falling back into the pillows and gasping.

He was in the middles of wiping his face before he realized that she didn’t have a towel there the first time he came over. But a towel was always there every other time he had showed up after. Either white or dark gray. Always fluffy. He looked down. Her eyes were closed, her pants slowing down to heavy breaths. She hadn’t been looking at him during his epiphany.

She smacked his arm for a second time before he realized she was trying to get his attention.

“Put my legs down, damn…”

“Oh, shit, right…”

It took him a moment to untangle himself. She went to the bathroom, as she usually did. Their clothes were all over the floor. Leather pants. Mesh shirt. The bathing suit top. Panties. His tank top. Black boxer briefs. His jacket and jeans were out there somewhere in the hall outside the bedroom. He noticed a pair of folded gray sweatpants and white shirt sitting on the corner of her room, randomly atop a low bookshelf. He had put them there a week ago. Just in case. She hadn’t moved it.

Jungkook breathed out.

He patted his temple.

I’m in idiot.

Then vigorously dried his hair.

The feeling came back when it was his turn to clean up in the bathroom and he saw his clear hair tie by her sink. A little tangled up from use, next to a pair of clear earplugs. He should probably check his phone and tell his friends that he was fine, but it was somewhere out there in his jeans and Jungkook wasn’t going to go hunting for it right now.

He went back to the bedroom.

Damn, she was so stunning even simply lying in bed. Her gray duvet was only covering her lower half, her forearm draped over her eyes. Amazing breasts. He took a moment to ogle them, perfect nipples and all.

“Stop staring at my tits.”

Well, shit.

She raised her arm and cocked her eyebrow at him.

Not saying anything, but the message came across quite clear.

Jungkook draped the hand towel over his shoulder and picked up the gray sweatpants from the bookshelf, yanking them over his legs before looking up again. Those shadowed eyes were watching him carefully. Surprise but not quite believing. He left the t-shirt and dropped the towel onto the floor, walking over to the other side of the bed and throwing himself down onto the mattress, making her body bounce.

Side eye.

“What?”

He shrugged.

“I’m tired.”

She frowned at him.

“Oh, yeah?”

He nodded.

“Yeah.”

He used his elbows to scoot himself to the pillows, resting his chin on the backs of his hands to look down at her. Her eyes followed the sleeve of tattoos on his right arm. Down and then up. Observing his facial expression carefully.

“Can’t stay too late?” she whispered. Somewhere between a taunt and weariness.

It broke his heart a little, hearing his own words said back to him. He moved one hand and lifted her forearm from her brows, seeing more of her face now. The mood lighting was still on. Points of color dancing over the ceiling above them. They reflected in her eyes even as she faced him.

Jungkook could smell her perfume, soft and sweet and not yet clinging to his skin.

“Can I stay the night?”

Her eyes narrowed. “And why would you wanna to that?”

He shrugged, realizing now that it had never been a no.

“Boyfriends stay over at their girlfriends’ places sometimes. Free breakfast.”

She rolled her eyes, clearly annoyed.

“The shit you pull, Jeon Jungkook.”

He leaned down. Had to fight for the kiss. Hands on wrists. His chest pressed against her breasts. When their lips touched, he could feel her smiling, so Jungkook smiled too and kissed her deeply.

masterpost

#jungkook x reader #bts smut #jungkook x you #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you

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weebsinstash · 4 months

Text

I know the show isn't out yet but Stayed Gone is stuck in my head and I'm chugging my yandere Vox juice so hard right now. I think he has the capacity to be absolutely insufferable

---for starters THE SPYING POTENTIAL WITH THIS MAN. You're telling me he can directly plug himself in to the city power grid and see through all televisions, potentially even phones and computers too? Could he put himself on your phone and start going through your texts? Could he even just put himself on your phone real quick while you're sleeping to check in on you? You couldn't even have privacy in your own home because of whatever screens are around he could potentially shoot himself to or watch you through. Imagine just being in your apartment completely alone and he's suddenly on your tv. Like what if you had just been sitting there topless or with your dick out or something or 👀 I mean. He could see so much, really...

---God honestly like. You know I keep mentioning the Instagram without ever attaching pics or anything because I'm on mobile and I'd have to use the hazbin Instagram archive blogs here on tumblr to go find them back like, you know Val would openly post the meanest shit, would literally post Vox's face being busted up because he woke Val up from a nap or i think it was he literally just brought him the wrong soda (which to be fair was taken from Velvet and was half empty), and then you go over to Vox's account and his pic was taping his pieces back on while being really frustrated and kinda lowkey looking like he would cry

Like Val's out here "women are stupid also men are stupid too" and talking about how he adopted a dog and killed it within like 48 hours and here's Vox celebrating his pet's birthday with cake and a party like. Why are these men together. Why. Why. Don't get me wrong I love to be the involuntary third in a toxic codependency but--

look all I'm saying is... do any of you get really really upset when you see someone being mistreated, especially more so a friend of yours?

READER JUST LOSING THEIR SHIT GETTING FERAL ANGRY SHOUTING AND SCREAMING AT VAL BECAUSE HE PULLS SOME SHIT and like that's IT for you because 1. Valentino might like actually backhand you one as well, do you think he wears rings so it hurts, 2. Vox sees you defending him and like, it's based on your own preferences really but if he wasn't already gaga this CEMENTS it and 3. especially if he watches you have to take a blow for trying to stick up for him. Like what if you cry. I have a low pain threshold, I'd be sniveling and crying at the least. Valentino storms off and Vox is helping peel you off the floor cause you curled up into a ball or some shit and he's sitting there thinking "wow they suck at this but they still did it for me 🥺"

---during his song with Alastor, it's a little confusing because they show an actual camera crew when he's turning the TVs on, but i think it's pretty clear that he can control whatever the screens show visually, thus his little zany sketches and being able to talk to himself and at one point, showed the visual of himself blocking the radio Alastor was projecting on right next door. I can just see him using this to kind of.... fuck with you, really! Or do whatever he wants? He's trying to suck up to you and he's surrounded by roses, or you're his co-host/guest host and he thinks your joke was funny and gives a little audience laughter as a treat

Or you know... you're running from him down the street, passing all these different screens and displays as they power on and show things like, him "jumping in front of you" while demanding you stop or, trying to show some kind of blackmail publicly, or just, begging you to just ACCEPT HIM and showing you all the fun things he could do with you, "cmon, I said I was sorry, stop freaking the fuck out! We can- we can do that thing you've always wanted to do, what about that?!" as he tries to project you two doing something fun, but most importantly, doing it TOGETHER. You're running from him terrified and he's showing you images of like you two smiling and happy or, it becomes scarier as he's more desperate

"Don't-don't make me do something fucked up!! I'm serious, STOP RUNNING" and he's like freaking out, showing shit of trying to hold you down, tying you up, and/or shoving you into a locked room

Sudden thoughts of "what if the more emotional and unstable he becomes, the less he can control his intrusive thoughts and shows his more impulsive darker desires". He's tweeking and the screen glitches and you briefly think you see yourself completely restrained, blindfolded, gagged--

---he's just like OBVIOUSLY so prideful but also immature and whiny ("who gives a shit about alastor?" Well you, mr hes just quietly minding his own business and I'LL start beef because i feel threatened and STILL LOSE, like awww my poor little pogchamp got publicly humiliated in an argument HE started out of nowhere, he's my little sad wet baby lmaoooo) and we already know his relationship with Val can become physically abusive, so, you pair him staying in that kind of relationship, being codependent, with this personality of his, and I can just see.... ACTUALLY FUCKING TRIGGERED LIKE LITERALLY CRYING UPSET VOX BECAUSE YOU REJECTED HIM like he's pissed he's hurt he's lonely he's heartbroken and HELL NO IS HE GONNA ACCEPT THIS

Vox would be over here proudly claiming on his TV show that NO HE REJECTED Y O U, not the other way around! He's not upset! He's totally fine! Meanwhile everyone watching can tell this man is manic and visibly hotboxing copium, "I didn't even really like you anyways!!.... no, I mean, shit, fuck, COMMERCIAL BREAK--" *cut to technical difficulties screen because the man is CRYINGGG*

-- Valentino and Reader bonding over teasing Vox and making him flustered and of course, obviously, the inverse. I still kinda like the idea of "they both think you're cute but like nothing exciting until one night they bump into you unplanned and you're all dressed up". Like Val is from the 70s or 80s so they go to a roller rink disco whatever kinda place because I'm sure the coke game there is INSANE and you're just like, swaying your hips spinning around to Let It Whip or September or something dressed in some shorts that make your ass look just right 🤌

You're sneaking back into the studio after a night out and they're both lounging somewhere and Val's like "uhhhh who is THIS coming in without saying hi to Daddy?" and you pull your sunglasses down like "SIR??? 😳" And now HE'S flustered because he didn't know that was you and Vox is feeling some new kinda way because he's used to seeing you in like, your work uniform or casual wear

Val who then makes your work uniform really slutty and you have to serve him and Vox wearing it 😩❤️

---I have this thought of like lmao imagine walking down the sidewalk with Angel and seeing Vox on TV and Angel is like "ya know he can see everything outta dese things when he's plugged in" and you're like "bullshit, he couldn't possibly process that many screens at once, it'd overload his brain, he wouldnt be able to concentrate" and you're like "here I'll prove it, hey Vox, check it out you fucking dweeb" and flash him your bare titties or you MOON HIM

scenario A would be that he INSTANTLY barks out laughing, "hey Val, that dumb slut who brings you drinks just flashed me!" And he just totally shows it on the air, maybe partially censored, maybe not at all, your phone is ringing IMMEDIATELY, of COURSE it's Val, and Vox is broadcasting your mortified embarrassed expression, "our big story tonight: drunk bimbo fucks around and finds out! More updates after this word from our sponsor!" and the man will noooootttttttt stop bullying the fuck out of you afterwards, because he's got a crush on you and you're like someone weaker than him his insecure ass can punch down on

Scenario B is that he instantly turns pink and about 5 seconds later he blue screens and the entire city experiences a blackout and when he comes back on the air he's like stammering and, glancing at, it FEELS like he keeps glancing at you, but, is he really?

------

I dunno... like I'm sure Valentino is gonna wind up being unstable in his own way but I guess there's a certain, ALLURE to Vox being a little bratty and whiny while also having these very VERY handy, actually quite scary abilities and resources 👀 like boy show me what that screen do 😫💦

#yandere hazbin hotel #yandere x reader #vox x reader #yandere vox x reader #sinprompts #yandere stuff

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awfcspencer · 3 months

Note

reader feels ugly and just upset and leah comforts? pure fluff I beg xx

Don’t Listen To Them || leah williamson x reader

prompt: requested! Social media can be a cruel, cruel place.

warnings: self confidence issues

a/n: hope you enjoy it! happy v-day to those who celebrate <33

Inside your shared home, you and Leah decided to stay in and build a charcuterie board as a snack before you both cuddle up together and watch a film. For dinner, Leah had lit some candles and put on some slow music while she watched you cook her favorite chicken alfredo pasta recipe. The both of you decided to pop a bottle of red wine as a nice way to end the jampacked week. Dinner was relaxing, enjoying one another’s company and talking about miscellaneous topics. Leah cleaned up the reminiscent of dinner as you began on the board. Organizing the charcuterie board was pretty simple, you had found a Pinterest photo to recreate, and Leah had accompanied you to the grocery store to collect the items you would need.

Placing the finishing touches on the board, you grabbed your phone located on the other side of the kitchen island. The board had taken you a lot longer than you assumed it would, but you wanted it to be perfect, so you found yourself examining the picture intricately and making sure everything was placed exactly.

Leah had become bored roughly about 10 minutes into creating the board, she paced back and forth around the kitchen and occasionally sighed loudly to really get the point across that she was bored.

“Wait let me take a photo first Lee,” As you swat her hand away for what felt like the hundredth time tonight from the perfectly aligned board that she had been secretly picking at each time you would set a row of crackers or stack of pepperonis in place. Each time she would eat off the board, you would have to replace the food and scold her. It was like baking a cake with a toddler who would lick frosting off the spoon when you weren’t looking.

“Oh silly me how could I forget Instagram eats first.” Rolling her eyes and grabbing the remote in the living room to put on a movie. “Mamma Mia tonight?” It was always a go-to in the home. You loved the cute little plot and Leah liked singing the ABBA songs loudly in your ear.

“Perfect idea baby,” nodding your head towards the blonde. Carefully balancing the food in your left hand as you make your way towards the couch after you took the perfect photo. Then remembering that you have to get back up and grab the two red wine glasses the two of you had been nursing before. Placing yourself between the defender’s long legs on the L-shaped couch, leaning backwards into her as she placed her head on your shoulder, placing a few kisses in the crook of your neck.

“Don’t start what you can’t finish Williamson.” Whispering as you kissed her now reddened cheeks.

You grabbed a few of the pepperoni’s and tossed them into your mouth, reaching your hand back and allowing Leah to have a few after she made a toddler-like gesture and a huff indicating that she wanted one.

“I sometimes think you are a 26-year-old stuck in a toddler’s body.” All night Leah had managed to find some way to annoy or antagonize you, all in fun though.

Pretending to be offended, “Well toddlers don’t cuddle so maybe I should get up.” Making a move to get up and sit on the opposite side of the couch.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please don’t get up, I am comfy, and you are warm.” You plead out in a joking manner, turning towards her placing a kiss on the tip of her nose as you forced her back down to her original position.

“So nice to me now but less than 30 seconds ago you were mean.” Folding her arms across her body and a stern look on her face. You wanted to make a comment about the state of which is looked right now, how it was so toddler-like, but you refrained, settling with a loud laugh.

“Momentary lapse of character” Reaching out to grab a peace treaty as an apology, “Olive?”

“You know the way to my heart, apology accepted.” As she takes it from your grasp and plops it into her mouth, pulling you back closer to her from her previous fake exit as you leaned into her chest.

Opening Instagram to post the pictures you had taken throughout the night. “Do you want me to tag you?” Organizing the selected photos on the screen and applying final touches on the photos. Ending it by adding a song in the background that had been playing when Leah grabbed you away from the masterpiece you had been creating and pulled you in for a quick salsa twirl and leaned you backwards and placed a kiss on your lips.

“Yeah so I can repost it” as she watched you create the post. You and Leah had been seeing each other for a few months, baking in the privacy for a bit before you let the whole world know. Each week that had passed, you and Leah got less and less subtle, performing a ‘soft launch’ through similar locations but different angles or the way she would repost your stories. This specific collection of photos was new though as it featured a slide of a side profile of Leah looking down at the board. It also had only 2 dinner plates, 2 sets of silverware, and 2 wine glasses in one of the photos, indicating it was in fact a date.

The fans had started to catch on and for the most part, the reactions had been mostly positive. Opposite of your life, Leah’s life was in the spotlight. Everything she did, everything she said, and everywhere she went was documented on some sort of social media outlet. Your account had maybe a few thousand followers, most of them you had gained from when Leah first started reposting your posts. So this post would set in stone that you and Leah were officially an item.

Clicking upload and then facing your phone downward on the table, cuddling backwards more into Leah with your back into her chest. Baking in her warm body, strong arms, and vanilla scent. “Omg who is this beautiful blonde in the third slide?” Gushing over herself as she quickly reposts your photos and places her phone next to yours, pulling you in tighter. “Always so humble Lee” gently swatting her on the thigh as she clicked play.

Every few minutes throughout the movie, your phone would go off, a little buzz that at first you just assumed was a few Instagram likes but after what felt like your phone was vibrating every second, you untangle slightly from Leah and grab your phone.

Your post had over 100,000 likes and several comments from people who you definitely did not know. You scroll casually through the notifications on your device. A few negative comments stuck out to you and when you opened the app, you were greeted with hundreds more.

‘Can’t believe she is dating THE Leah Williamson.’

‘Leah definitely downgraded.’

Several comments simply just said, ‘ugly’. The hurtful comments went on and on.

Private accounts and faceless profiles, people would say anything they desired behind a screen when there were no direct consequences. Harsh words that initially you were able to push to the side, but each one that you read dug a little deeper. The response was overwhelming, there were new comments each minute, and almost none of them were nice. It hurt and each one you read felt more real. You could feel the tears coming, the emotions coming out, so you briefly excused herself saying you needed to use the restroom, desperately hoping that the way your voice cracked was unnoticeable.

The words felt true as you locked eyes in the mirror with yourself. Where you enough to be with someone like Leah? I mean she was absolutely drop-dead gorgeous, and what were you? Staring at yourself in the mirror you noticed each and every blemish, freckle, or pore on your face, and the tears began to fall. The grey sweatsuit that you had initially put on for the chill date now felt ugly on your frame, you wanted to rip the clothes off. Someone who was dating Leah Williamson wouldn’t wear such an ugly outfit.

Back on the couch, Leah was beginning to get worried at the amount of time you had been gone. The part Leah knew was your favorite was coming up so she reached for the remote on the coffee table to pause it so you could enjoy it when you returned. In attempting to pause the movie, she noticed your phone open on your Instagram comment section. The vulgar comments made her sick. They were piling in with each minute that passed, and she felt angry, but then she felt sad. She quickly left the couch and rushed to the bathroom, desperately hoping that maybe the pasta didn’t sit right, or you were busy washing your hands.

A soft knock on the door took your eyes off the mirror. “Hey babe, you all good in there?” the blonde questioned. Leah’s heart was beating out of her chest because she had heard the soft sniffles from outside the door as she walked up to it. She knew you had read the comments. She wanted to run in and immediately convince you that not a single one of those comments were true, but she didn’t want to overwhelm you.

“Don’t come in.” You didn’t mean to scream at her, you weren’t angry with her, but you did not want her to see you like this, your makeup now smeared and tears freely falling from your eyes. You quickly locked the door and rushed to the opposite side of the bathroom. She would break up with you, she would realize the comments were true, you were ugly. You were fidgeting with your hair, a trait you’ve had since primary school when you got overwhelmed or nervous, it was a way to calm down.

“Baby please let me in, nothing any of those comments said is true. Nothing.” She pleaded, hoping she could convince you to let her in. She wanted to pull you into a big hug and say anything and everything she could to help you see that nothing they said was true or how she felt.

“You don’t mean that.” Your head was clouded, only being able to replay each and every comment in your brain. Your eyes continued to shift uncontrollably across different sections of your face or body that you felt ashamed of in the mirror.

“I love the way your baby hairs stand out even though you try and try to brush them down in the morning. I love the little crinkle in your nose when you get annoyed or confused about something. I love the way your tongue pokes out of the corner of your mouth when you are trying to focus really hard on something. I love your freckles, every single one, especially when you get some sun and they especially become vibrant. I love the way you lick your lips before you speak. I love the way each time you laugh or smile I can see the indent on your cheeks of your dimples even though you try and claim you don’t have them. I love the way you twirl your hair into curls when you get stressed. I love your eyes, it is like I can see a sparkle in them when you look at something you love. I love the way you close your eyes sometimes because you say it helps you think more clearly. I love you baby, every single inch of you. Those comments do not know you like I know you. They do not see how truly beautiful you are to me,” the compliments gushing out of Leah like it was second nature, truly meaning each and every word.

There was silence on your side of the door, taking in what Leah said. A click of the door as you unlocked it and Leah rushed in and to your side immediately. You sobbed into the defender’s chest as she rubbed large circles on your back.

“Thank you, Lee, really.” Your breathing had returned to normal and your heart no longer felt like it was racing. You felt safe and loved in the blonde's embrace.

“It is only you baby, you are my love. Don’t listen to them,” pulling you in tighter and placing a soft kiss on your temple as she forced you to look her in the eyes. She took her thumb and brushed over the final tears that escaped your eye.

“I can’t believe I let social media get to me, this is so stupid. I’m sorry for crying and for ruining our date,” your voice no louder than a whisper as you look down at the bathroom tile.

She forces your head back up with a finger under your chin, “It’s not stupid baby. I get it, it can be a lot. But anytime you feel like it all gets too much, I want you to talk to me. I want to know. And you never need to apologize to me, and certainly not for crying baby.”

Another wave of silence fell over the bathroom. The two of you are still huddled in each other's arms, swaying slightly left and right as you come down from the major wave of emotions previously.

"I'm pretty sure we still have mint chocolate ice cream from last week," she quietly whispered, a small upward quirk of her lip that turned into a soft smile. She knew it was your favorite and that you rarely let yourself keep it inside the household because you would easily eat a whole pint. You matched her grin, locking her fingers with yours, and pulled her towards the kitchen.

Two spoons and one large bowl of ice cream was shared between the two of you. Leah had made the final touches by adding chocolate syrup and way too much whipped cream. You took your pointer finger to swipe the white cream and tapped Leah on the nose.

"Who is acting like a toddler now?" wiping her nose with a nearby napkin as you shrugged and placed another large bite into your mouth.

#woso x reader #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso one shot #woso #woso soccer #woso blurbs #womens soccer #leah williamson x you #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson imagine #leah williamson #arsenal wfc #awfc #arsenal women

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