And it’s only the first episode
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just some sillies (x)
[ID: Short comic with two characters. One has a pale white complexion and short spiky black hair seeming blue in hue. His eyes are dark and sharp and is wearing a blue coat. The other character has a similar complexion, more pink- and has slightly spiky pink hair with a dark undercut. He’s wearing a green hoodie and holding a phone. Their conversation starts with the first character. “I think we should adopt another kid.” , “No.” , “Why?”, “Because by “kid” you mean “dog” and we already have 24 of those.” Then it shows the first character again, zipping down his hoodie revealing a white puppy as he says “25.”. Last panel shows the second character staring quietly with a speech bubble with three dots next to him.]
bonus under cut:
[ID: Doodle of the characters from before sitting down, the dark haired character is smiling at the other who is happily now holding the puppy, smiling happily with hearts around his head.]
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white lies | jjk | m
— summary; in which Jungkook lies his way out of and into trouble. But he can’t tell white lies when it comes to you.
— contents and warnings; smut, fluff, very minor angst, poor attempts at humor, athlete!jungkook x reader, childhood best friends, fake dating, idiots to lovers, far too many movie references, a tiny bit of jealousy, jk is a football/soccer player, mentions of alcohol and drugs, the catastrophic event that is a frat party, jk is kind of a himbo, so much sexual tension, mutual pining, a lot of touching, dirty talk, fingering, grinding, jk has a big dick, praise, body worship if you squint, unprotected sex (don’t.), pulling out, very mild possessiveness, mid-sex confessions, the L word…, Jungkook wants to fuck you in his team jacket because his tastes are very singular and you wouldn’t understand it
— words; 13,3k
— author’s notes; I know what you’re thinking… and yes, every bad movie mentioned is real. Also, this is a self-aware cliche and 100% self indulgent. Have fun!
When people first found out that you and Jungkook were friends, you received a very predictable, repetitive sequence of reactions.
First came disbelief. It was the most comprehensible one, at least from your perspective, taking into consideration that you and Jungkook were completely different people. He was loud (sometimes too loud) and outgoing, probably knew at least ninety percent of the campus population by name and city of origin. Jungkook was warm, friendly, the type of guy that you’d confess all your worries to if given enough time. You, on the other hand, was more on the “colder” side — you weren’t as inviting with strangers, and didn't mind going through moments of awkward silence. Jungkook was a talker and you were a listener; he was a daydreamer and you were a brute realist: maybe that was why your friendship worked so well. But most people couldn’t really get it.
Second came the questions — the doubts, the sideway glances, even a few bitter comments if you were unlucky enough. Jungkook had kind of a reputation when it came to sleeping around, so most people jumped to the conclusion that either you were his favorite plaything (which might have been the most offensive thing you’ve ever heard) or that you were simply the rare one he had friendzoned because he didn’t want to fuck you (a big runner-up to that prize). Eventually, though, you settled their anguishes simply by saying that you knew each other ever since you were kids.
Which took you to the final phase: relief and acceptance. The ones who saw you as a threat instantly relaxed, and the ones who couldn’t understand why he would “waste his time” with “someone like you” quickly understood that it was a deep, innocent connection that he was just “too sweet to let go.” Obviously, that didn’t make you feel any better.
Truth was, it was kind of hard being friends with Jungkook. Mostly because the boy casted a light so strong that it was almost impossible not to stay in his shadow, but also because you always felt like you had to justify your existence every time he chose you instead of anyone else. You were the person he ran to hug once his team won; you were the one he ditched other people for, just to hang out with you. It made you insecure. And, yeah, there was also the fact that you had been madly in love with him for some time now, but that was unimportant.
Well, until he asked you to be his (fake) girlfriend, that was.
Jungkook, bless his heart, was never one of the brightest when it came to real-life situations. He could ace a test with no issue, but, when it came to reading the room, he was a lost cause — something a bit paradoxical when you realized how social he was, but, well, people probably thought his cluelessness was adorable. And that might also be the reason why he never caught onto your pathetic crush, but that was a different topic.
“Why the fuck would I do something like that?” You munched on your chips, eyes flickering over the TV screen. The two of you had made the terrible decision to hatewatch all the bad shark-themed movies you could find, and now you were suffering the brain-smoothing consequences. “Sounds like the dumbest plan in the world. And I don’t understand what you’d get out of that.”
He whined, throwing his head back against the couch. Jungkook had been trying to convince you for half a movie now, and he was running out of arguments. “I told you already,” he stressed, eyes locked to the white ceiling. With the living room completely immersed in shadows, the shades of blue and yellow from the television reflected off his face like a prism. “The boys have been teasing me because I could never hold a date.”
“And? That’s your problem.” You looked at him, meeting his desperate stare. “And, honestly, why did you even lie about it? It’s true, you know it.”
“You’re cruel.” Jungkook tugged the bag of chips off your hands, ignoring your complaints. “I have my reasons.”
You laughed. “Yeah, what is it again? Waiting for the right person?” You teased, watching as his frown only deepened, his cheeks puffed out as he angrily chewed. “Come on, Cinderella, snap out of that fairy tale. Have you stopped to think how many nice girls you let go because of that stupid mindset?”
“It’s not stupid,” he murmured, clearly irritated.
With a sigh, you shrugged. “Fine. It’s not.” You yanked the bag of chips away from him, slightly sad that it was almost finished. Unfortunately, your marathon had made you eat a lot more junk food than your body could probably handle, but that was a problem for the future you. Present you really wanted more chips. “I’m just bitter.”
“We can agree on that.” He smirked, a devilish glint in his eyes that prepared you for the worst. “What was it that those guys called you in high school?”
You pointed at him. “Don’t,” you warned.
But his smirk only grew, morphing into a full-blown (dazzling) smile. “Ice queen?” Jungkook tried.
You rolled your eyes, sinking into the couch. “It’s a dumb nickname, shut up,” you groaned, trying to focus on the shitstorm that unreveled on the television. There was a priest trying to exorcise the ghost of a demon shark, and that was a thousand times more interesting than recalling the nightmare that was high school. “It got even worse when Frozen came out.”
“Still gets to you, though.” Jungkook poked you on the shoulder, allowing himself one last laugh at your distress before striking once again. “So… wanna help me?”
Yeah, like that would have magically changed, you thought. “I already said no.”
Jungkook leaned forward, pressing his forehead against his palms. He was in anguish, but you couldn’t feel that sorry when he had caused that himself. “But I already told them we were dating,” he whined, defeated.
“Again, sounds like a you problem,” you said, throwing the empty bag of chips on the coffee table. “Just say that you panicked and made some shit up. Own up to it, you’re already a grown up.”
Jungkook shook his head. “I can’t, they’ll never believe me again.”
You sighed, crossing your arms. “Dragging this out won’t make it any better. You should tell them the truth,” you said, pausing for an instant. “Actually, I can’t see this ending well in, like, any possible scenario. Even Doctor Strange had better odds in Infinity War.”
The fact that you liked Jungkook was the key point that he didn’t have access to, but that was very clear inside your head. Even in the best possible outcome, in which no one doubted a single thing and everything magically went back to normal, you’d still have to live with that weight inside your chest. Sounds pretty fucking painful to pretend to be someone’s girlfriend when you were almost considering selling your soul to turn that into a real situation. And then to be done with it like it wasn’t nothing more than a business transaction, or a platonic favor for a good friend... that would just suck, to put it lightly.
Sadly, Jungkook wouldn’t give up so easily. “What if we, like, only do it tomorrow night?” He pressed on, turning to take a better look at you. He always looked so breathtaking, his gorgeous big eyes just staring at you like a cute dog pleading for a piece of meat. You could sense yourself starting to fold, and that was always a bad sign. “Just for a few of my friends to see us together, show that it’s the truth, and then I can just say that we didn’t work out and decided to stay friends.”
“But it’s not the truth,” you stressed, turning your head back to the television. You were starting to get pissed at the fact that you’d have to watch that movie again to try and make sense of what was happening. But you were also sad because you were both considering his request and suffering in advance because of its unavoidable consequences. “I don’t wanna be just another name in your list of conquests, Jungkook.”
Correction: you didn’t want to pretend to be one. You were fine with trying something out (for real) with Jungkook, even if you didn’t get a fairy tale ending. You just didn’t want to play with your own emotions — and probably induce some emotional trauma — because your best friend couldn’t own up to the fact that he lied about something (again).
And, yet, it was getting to you. Just like a vipers’ venom, it had started to spread inside your body, corroding the walls you had built up for yourself. Your therapist would rip you to shreds if she knew you were thinking like that, but maybe ignoring the only chance you’d have with Jungkook — real or not — would be the foolish decision there.
Besides, it couldn’t be that bad, could it? You could push your pride aside and help a friend during a time of need… and who knows, maybe get a couple kisses along the way? And just for one night? You could do that…
Back in the present, Jungkook was just now digesting your previous claim. “What? You’d never be just that,” he guaranteed, an expression of bewilderment plastered all over his obnoxiously handsome face. Every day was a new test from God, and you were failing miserably. “You’re my best friend. I’d do anything for you.”
Ouch. That was a low hit. And worse? You knew that he didn’t say that with any malicious intent to manipulate you or anything — he genuinely meant it. Jungkook was such a sweetheart when it came to you, he’d stay up to help you with your projects; volunteer to take you out on an adventure when you were feeling down, even if he had to face the consequences of skipping practice later. He had done so much for you, and you couldn’t even push your feelings aside one time to help him out.
Your high school insecurities were starting to erupt, and you were thinking that maybe those dumb nicknames were right. Maybe you were kind of a cold-hearted bitch. Especially when your best friend/love of your life was pouting and begging you to help him and all you could do was to mock him.
Beside you, Jungkook deflated like the saddest balloon in the world, a long sigh leaving his lips. “You know what? You’re right, this is stupid,” he admitted, running one hand through his hair. You always wanted to do the same, it was so soft and puffy that you could get lost in it. Also, there was something about the tattoos on his arms, the veins of his hand, that just made you lose your mind. “I should just own up to it.”
Took you a couple seconds for your rational brain to catch up to your horny one, but it eventually did. “It’s okay, I’ll do it,” you told him. “Just one night.”
“Really?” Jungkook’s eyes widened like a kid’s during Christmas morning, a beautiful smile overtaking his features. He jumped in your direction and, before you could even react, his strong arms were wrapping around you, pulling you into a warm hug. You were so fucked. “You’re the best! I owe you big time.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’ll remember that.” You placed your hand on his forehead and pushed him away, ignoring both his whiny complaints and the quickening of your heartbeat. “Now back to our shark exorcism.”
Jungkook’s teammates didn’t get why the two of you were still friends.
As Jimin, the world’s most competitive striker once said, some things are so obvious that you just can’t ignore them unless you have a secret agenda. When it came to that specific subject, the obvious thing would be that Jungkook had an earth-shattering crush on you, and his secret agenda was the fact that he was too blind to see that it was mutual, so he decided to repress it until it asphyxiated him.
His teammates tried to warn him over and over again that you, in fact, were all heart eyes and chuckles when he came around, Namjoon even got close to creating an entire PowerPoint presentation about it, but all of it fell on deaf ears. Jungkook, in his blissful ignorance, just wouldn’t hear it. From where he was standing, there was just no conceivable way that his laughable childhood crush had any chance of being mutual.
Jungkook didn’t know much about psychology, though, because, if he did, he might have faced those emotions head-first instead of avoiding them until they started presenting themselves in different, slightly destructive ways. When you repress something, it doesn’t really go away, it just settles somewhere else, like squeezing a handful of slime. No matter how much he tried to get a hold of it, it still slipped between his fingers — made him cancel dates last minute to spend the night with you, convinced him to do the dumbest things just to make you happy.
And, now, in a weird projection of a personal fantasy, he was pretending to be your boyfriend.
In his defense, it wasn’t a machiavellian plan he had meticulously constructed: it just kind of happened. Jungkook wasn’t exactly a poster child when it came to being teased — after all, he was used to be being the best at practically everything — and, when his teammates all ganged up on him during their break, claiming that he just couldn’t get a girlfriend even if he tried, both his annoyance and the practice-induced exhaustion made him say that he was already dating someone.
“Yeah, right,” Hoseok had mocked, pressing a towel against his sweaty forehead. The changing room thankfully had a great ventilation system, combined with large windows, otherwise they would’ve died from the heat and the smell already. “Just say that you can’t take a joke and move on, Jeon. No need to lie about it.”
Taehyung barged in before Jungkook could get a word out. “Besides, we know there’s only one person that can fit inside your heart,” he said, watching as Jungkook’s eye twitched. “How’s ___ doing, by the way?”
“She’s fine,” he answered, monotone.
“Yeah? Are you gonna ask her out or what?” Jimin teased, his voice coming from beyond a row of lockers. “Or are we free to do that?”
In typical animal planet fashion, the locker room exploded in a roar of laughs and fragmented provocations, every guy trying to speak louder than the other. Jungkook felt himself shrink, his frown deepening as his heartbeat quickened. There was something burning at his insides, a mixture of shame and jealousy, and that was exactly what pushed those idiotic words out of his mouth.
“Actually,” he started speaking when the thunderous laughter diminished, turning around to place his bag back in his locker. “I’m dating ___.”
It was almost amazing how fast the room morphed into a crypt — the thick silence hitting Jungkook right in the face, weighing down and turning into guilt and worry inside his stomach. He was unable to look back and face his friends, instead pretending to be extremely interested in his bag’s zipper.
Why did he always do that? Why couldn’t he tell the truth for once in his life?
“That seems even harder to believe,” Taehyung was the first one to speak, the one brave soul that verbalized what they all were thinking. Simply as that, life returned to the locker room, and so did the sounds of his teammates laughing at him. “Just yesterday you were acting all nervous around her.”
Jungkook slammed his locker door shut, turning around with a determined expression. “Well, yeah, because I was planning to ask her to be my girlfriend,” he had never constructed a lie so fast before, but, even then, Taehyung didn’t look like he was buying it. “I’m serious.”
Which was probably the least trust-worthy thing he could say.
“Prove it, then.” Hoseok smiled, crossing his arms. “Call her right now.”
“I’ll do you better,” Jungkook didn’t hesitate — a terrible sign, he realized one heartbeat too late; it was never good when his mouth decided to take the lead, allowing for the words to flow out of him before they could be filtered by his logical brain. But Jungkook was competitive, both in the field and in his personal life, and he couldn’t stand the humiliation that came from both losing an argument and being caught in a lie. As ironic as that was. “I’ll take her to Saturday’s party and you can all see it with your own eyes.”
Jungkook was just buying himself some time, hoping that his charms would be enough to sweep you into his miraculous scheme before his teammates could realize something was off. Hoseok, of course, did not know that, but his expression showed that he wasn’t all too convinced either. “Sounds great,” he lowered his voice, looking at his friend up and down. “See you there, Jeon.”
Jungkook left the locker room with a crown of victory hovering over his head and a bright, prideful smile — one which shrunk and shrunk as his day progressed and he realized that there was no way in hell that you’d accept to be swept into his personal melodrama.
He had enough time between that conversation and the night at your place to go through all the stages of grief. In denial he found himself running from those cyclical thoughts, ignoring that it had happened in the first place — maybe it was all a big misunderstanding and his friends would let that situation go; maybe he didn’t have to sacrifice his friendship with you just to avoid being wrong about something. In anger, came anxiety, frustration at himself for being so dumb and impulsive, allowing for his ego to step in the way and shield him from reason. That one he suffocated with extra gym time and a consequential terrible cramp in his shoulder.
Soon enough came bargain and Jungkook was thinking that, if he were to be very lucky, he could convince his friends that you happened to be way too sick to go to the party that night, and that, weirdly enough, you two broke up the very next day and you didn’t want to talk about it ever. Maybe he could go through all that in secret, use all his brain power to construct an elaborate, moviesque plan to get him out of the ditch he had dug himself and no one would ever know of his dirty lies.
It was all for nothing, however — the depression stage materialized soon after, in the middle of his advanced calculus class, and Jungkook was practically imploding over the fact that he had managed to ruin everything between you two, and also between him and the rest of his team. That was it: not only would he lose his best friend (and perhaps the love of his life) but he would also lose trust and respect in the field.
Acceptance only reached him when Jungkook was on his way to your place, and he came to terms with the idea that he was already in deep shit, so he should at least try and change that. He would ask you to pretend to be his girlfriend for a bit — even if he was positive you’d laugh until you were out of breath and never let him forget about it — under the possibility that perhaps, you’d say yes.
Which, surprisingly, you did.
Now, Jungkook wasn’t particularly emotional when it came to most things — even in the field, he managed to control that side of him well — but there was something intense bubbling up in his stomach as he made his way back to his dorm after the movie was over; a laugh that hung somewhere between maniacal and desperate that he couldn’t hold back. That could be bad, really bad. Especially considering that he didn’t have the slightest clue how he would hold himself back from just vomiting out a fervent love confession the second that you kissed him.
Because that was supposed to happen, right? In a relationship, pretend one or not, people should kiss. He should act like your boyfriend, perhaps a fantasy that he had way too often, and still spare enough brain matter to remind himself that it was all fake. And that it was also all his fault.
As established, Jungkook was the president of the company of putting himself in extremely uncomfortable situations. And, when the night of the party arrived, he decided to screw himself even further by lending you his team jacket.
It was because it was cold, he tried to brainwash himself. It was because you were cold, because the night was cold, and not because he liked the view of you in it in the slightest. Or maybe because it was a bomb pumping his thorax full of pride and possessiveness; because it was making him believe, even for a second, that you two were part of a chimerical alternative universe in which you were together. Not at all. It was strictly business — the neighborly job of a worried best friend, at most.
“Is this really necessary?” you spoke his doubts out loud, tugging at the sides of his large jacket.
Jungkook managed to keep his cool, eyes darting around the peaceful streets. You two were close to the party, he could already listen to the repetitive beat echoing through the cool breeze, and every step he took amplified his anticipation by tenfold. “It speaks for itself,” he told you, his hand firm on your waist. You were wearing a sleeveless top and a skirt in the same color, and there was a stripe of exposed skin in between the two that Jungkook’s hand brushed against sometimes. He felt like he was a virgin again, hyper-aware of your body and completely unsure what to do with himself. “Besides, you look good wearing it.”
You rolled your eyes. “I look stupid.”
Jungkook glimpsed at you, a sleazy smile growing on his lips. “You look like my girlfriend.”
You snorted. “Oh, so I look super stupid,” you corrected, looking away.
“Funny,” Jungkook answered, monotone. His smile melted away — there was no way in hell it was mutual, he thought, his friends were just fucking him over, trying to see him embarrass himself. “I hope you act better than you tell jokes.”
“It’s probably as good as the effects in Birdemic,” you said.
Jungkook shook his head — he had conflicting emotions when it came to that movie, considering that it was so awful that he laughed to the point of choking on his popcorn. You, being the empathic friend you were, brought up his near-death experience as often as you could. “At least that movie was funny, your poor acting will just be sad,” he threw back.
“Thanks.” You giggled, making his heart leap inside his chest. Jungkook wanted to beat his head against the asphalt until that shy spirit of his middle school past left his body completely. “I’ll let you do the talking.”
Jungkook nodded, allowing his gaze to navigate around the neighborhood — there were a handful of strangers in the streets with the two of you, but it was a shortcut to the frat house that not many people knew of. It brought along a peculiar sentiment of intimacy; the way your features were covered by the pale yellow of the light poles making him want to dive in and kiss you until he couldn’t even breathe. The realization that he could actually do that, under the excuse of a fake relationship, was one that almost knocked him out.
“Just to be sure, by the way,” Jungkook started. “You’re okay with me, like, touching you like you were my girlfriend, right?”
You looked at him for a moment, measuring his expression. “Yeah, that’s part of it,” you told him. “I’m guessing you are okay with it as well?”
“Fine by me.” Jungkook cleared his throat. The frat was literally just around the corner, buzzing into the night with a generic beat and the joyful yelps of hundreds of strangers. He usually enjoyed that cacophony of sounds, but, that time, it was like the screams from hell. “Just a couple hours, okay? Then you’re free.”
“It’s fine,” you told him. “How bad can it be?”
Short answer: bad. Long answer: bad, but with a twist.
Jungkook looked around the party like he was a kid lost in the supermarket, his eyebrows furrowed as he searched for his teammates (which that whole spectacle was supposed to be for). You felt like a piece of a puzzle thrown in the wrong box, leaning against his toned body as he tried to think of what to do.
“So…” You cleared your throat, trying to make yourself heard through the loud beating of the song. Jungkook followed your voice, leaning in closer. Maybe your heart skipped at that, but no one had to know. “What’s the plan, captain?”
Jungkook clicked his tongue. You two were leaning against one of the walls of the large living room, in a somewhat calm corner of the party. “I don’t know, I’m not feeling like being interrogated right now,” he said. “I think it’s better if we wait for the guys to get a bit more drunk so they don't think too much about it.” He sighed, looking around for a bit longer. “We could stay here for a while, just sit down and talk. What do you think?”
“Sounds good.” You breathed out. “I’m taking any chance to rest my feet at this point.”
The ancient gods of the frat parties seemed to be on your side, because it didn’t take much longer than a couple minutes to find a sofa that 1) was unoccupied and 2) didn’t look like it had any suspicious fluids on it. You settled by Jungkook’s side, a breath of relief escaping your chest as you felt the pressure on your calves subside considerably — all you wanted was to go back in time and kill whoever thought high heels were a good idea.
However, you relaxed way too early.
You had to hold back a surprised gasp when Jungkook abruptly tugged your legs onto his lap, one hand finding the curvature of your waist instantly.
“This feels... intimate,” your voice sounded stiff when you spoke up, pushing your skirt down.
“Yeah, that’s the point.” His eyes roamed around the room for exactly two seconds before they widened just slightly, then snapped back at you. “Okay, two things.” Jungkook placed one arm on the couch behind you, murmuring as he leaned in. He had that scheming expression on his face that had been plaguing you ever since middle school, when he first discovered pranks, and you didn’t think that was a good sign. “First: Yoongi, Jin and Namjoon are here, and they’re looking— shh, don’t look! Dumbass.”
“Sorry. You’re the dumbass,” you said. It was hard not to look when you felt as if you were under a microscope, watched closely by his meat-headed friends. Still, you tried to keep your composure. “And the second?”
He exhaled, the hand that was on your waist traveling to touch your cheek. You wondered if he could feel how hot your skin had become. “It’s kind of the time that you have to commit to being my fake girlfriend,” Jungkook warned, stare oscillating towards your mouth. “I’m gonna kiss you now, okay?”
Suddenly, you felt like you were right back in high school, about to have your first kiss and not having a single clue about how to do it. “O-Okay,” you whispered.
Jungkook didn’t waste any time. Before you could think about something to try and break the ice, his mouth was on yours, silencing you and turning your thoughts into white noise. He kissed you softly, much slower than you had expected, giving you time to adapt to the tender movement of his lips caressing yours.
You sighed, gradually remembering how to move your limbs. Your hands rested on his broad shoulders as he leaned his head to the side, opening his mouth just slightly and deepening the kiss. No matter how many times you had fantasized about that moment, it could never compare to the way his tongue slipped inside your mouth, nor the small grunt he let out against your lips. Kissing Jungkook felt like heaven and you had completely forgotten about your fake dating situation until he decided to pull back just a bit.
“Fuck, you’re a good kisser,” he mumbled, nose bumping against yours.
You let out a breathy laugh. “Why do you sound so surprised?”
“I’m not surprised.” His hand slithered down to your hips, his warm palm sending shockwaves through your body. You felt like you were in danger from the way he was speaking, his body moving closer to yours. “I knew you would be.”
Jungkook didn’t even give you time to process his words before he was kissing you again — sloppier, hungrier this time. Again and again, he chose to throw gasoline into the flame of your desire, and what could you do but to melt under his touches, to kiss him just as eagerly.
Faithlessly, you were trying to convince yourself that it was all an act, that he was just playing it up because he knew his friends were watching. But his hand just felt so firm on your hips, pulling you closer as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, fingers digging into the soft sea of his hair. It seemed so real when he moaned softly against your mouth, biting on your lower lip before tracing kisses down your jaw, towards your neck.
Or maybe you were just so deep inside your own illusions that you didn’t want to believe that it was all for show.
Your eyes parted just slightly, trying to find his friends amongst the crowd of strangers. It was extremely hard to think when Jungkook was sucking and licking his way down your neck, his hand squeezing your thighs. Apparently they were nowhere in sight, though, for those obviously bright orange jackets had left your field of vision.
“Jungkook,” you called, surprised at how firm your voice came out. The boy only hummed against your flesh, not paying much attention to what you were saying. “I think they already left.”
Still, it didn’t seem like he was willing to stop. Jungkook mumbled against your neck, his voice so low that you almost didn’t catch his words past the loud music. “Yeah, but someone else can be watching.”
You didn’t know who, though, and you didn’t really care. You were more worried about the small bites he was placing on your skin, the soft sucking of his mouth that left you pressing your legs together, begging for relief. “Um, okay, but there’s a minor emergency,” you told him.
That managed to get his attention, for the boy pulled back so he could look at you. “What is it?” He asked, worried.
You shifted around on the couch, your legs still thrown over his lap. You noticed something hard poking against your skin, which gave you enough momentum to admit out loud that, “I’m, like, soaking wet right now,” you said. “My neck is super sensitive and I’m really trying to hold back here.”
Jungkook froze, blinking a few times and your words settled in his mind. He would never understand how you could be so shy in one second, and then just throw that bomb on his lap like it wouldn’t make his dick rock hard in record time. “Fuck, how can you just say that so naturally?” He cursed.
“Sorry.” You bit your lip. Jungkook had to fight the urge to kiss you again. “I’m just being honest.”
How ironic was it that, while Jungkook lied his way through life, you had no problem throwing those random truths right at his face? The opposites do attract, after all.
He cleared his throat, unsure if he should pull away or not. “Want me to stop?”
“I don’t know,” you admitted, “I think this is getting weird.”
Maybe it would be the perfect time for the world to just open up and eat him whole, considering that Jungkook had never felt so embarrassed in his life. “Weird how?” He asked.
“Weird like… weird.” Self-expression under moments of extreme sexual pressure really wasn’t your forte. You broke eye contact, flustered, instead choosing to look at the cluttered coffee table by your side. Jungkook’s hand was still on your body and you liked his touch far too much for your own well-being. “Maybe it would be better if we just went home.”
“Right now?” Jungkook whined. Sometimes he still acted like the kid you knew, all puffy cheeks and demands for attention; for things to happen the way he wanted. You, being the simp that you were, were his number one enabler. “One more hour, please? We’ve been here for so little time, I just wanna cover all my bases.”
His pouty lips and needy voice was a Molotov cocktail thrown directly in your heart. “Fine.” You puffed out.
“Thank you!” Jungkook beamed, leaning in to place a kiss on your lips. The action was so automatic, so unthought, that neither of you reacted to it for a second. “Um… why do you say we try the backyard? Jimin said he’d try some new barbecue technique or whatever, so maybe they’re outside.”
“And after that we leave?” You asked. He nodded. “And you do the talking?”
“I’ll try my best,” Jungkook agreed.
You sighed. “Okay. I need some fresh air anyways.”
Back in middle school, you had a very eccentric world history teacher. You clearly remember one afternoon that she simply walked in and asked the class what was the worst type of torturing they could ever imagine a human could endure — which ended up being a great opening line to a very interesting class about the medieval times and the ways of the inquisition, but also something that plagued you for a long time. That night, when you returned home, you dove into the rabbit hole about the topic and (much to the horror of your parents) discovered a thing or two about torture methods.
The key point, it seemed, wasn’t even about the actual physical act, but about the horrendous expectation that came from it. Psychological torture could break a person apart before someone even laid a finger on them. You knew that already, but you had never truly witnessed it until that night.
“Well, guess I have to take back what I said,” Hoseok started, his speech slightly slurred by the alcohol. Jungkook was right, they were a lot less intense after a few drinks, and apparently weren’t questioning a lot either. “I didn’t think you two would ever end up together after so many years of bullshit, but here we are.”
“Cheers to that, brother,” Jimin barged in, raising his cup.
Jungkook chuckled behind you. “You guys have no fucking faith in me.”
As a typical former theater kid, you were naturally dramatic. But you weren’t kidding when you said that pretending to be Jungkook’s girlfriend might be a newfound method of psychological torture — especially when he made you sit on his lap, his head resting on your shoulder and strong arms wrapped tightly around you. It was because there were no more chairs left in the backyard, and he wanted to play the gentleman/possessive boyfriend and didn’t allow you to stand up. But justificatives were fruitless when you could feel him getting harder by the minute.
“It’s not about faith, you just fucked me up,” Taehyung said. He was the least inebriated one out of the group, but that didn’t mean much. “I owe Yoongi like fifty bucks now, thanks, man.”
Jungkook was probably going to say something equally ludicrous in return, but your curiosity made you act quicker. “Why?” You asked.
Taehyung clicked his tongue, leaning back against his chair — it was the type that folded in half, and you were thinking he would flip over any second now if he continued with those harsh movements. “Ah. No biggie. He was one of the few people who believed your boyfriend here when he said you two were together.”
You giggled, trying to keep yourself composed. Unlike Jungkook, you were not very skilled when it came to making up lies at the spot, so you ended up deflecting a little. “Yeah, it was a bit… sudden. So I understand the surprise.”
Hoseok yawned, throwing his head back. “Nah, not really a surprise.”
You blinked. “What do you mean?”
Jungkook narrowed his eyes, shifting a little behind you. You felt him tense up, which probably wasn’t a good sign. “Yeah, what do you mean?” He echoed.
“I mean… that it wasn’t a surprise,” Hoseok repeated, raising his eyebrows in a quiet mockery, as if you had just questioned the color of the sky. “Yoongi was sure Jungkook had finally gotten the balls to confess to you. I, myself, didn’t think it was that likely.”
Wait, what? Suddenly you felt like you were the one being lied to, and all of them were in it together, building this huge prank around that story just to humiliate you. There was no way Hoseok was serious about that, not when the booze was probably melting his brain.
Before you could continue to think about that, however, Jungkook spoke up. “Man, you guys suck.” He laughed. “I told you I’d do it someday and you never believed it.”
Ah. That was it. Jungkook had lied about it just like he had done countless times in the past.
You deflated a little, a sting of pain inside your chest as the conversation continued to unravel around you. Right then and there, you felt like the stupidest person alive, with no right to complain about the consequences you knew would come from that idea. Even if you had almost convinced yourself otherwise, what probably happened was that Jungkook got cornered some time in the past about some other girl, and ended up telling his friends that he liked you instead, just to get out of that situation. Like some of his lies, it snowballed, and it took you to where you two were now.
It was hard not to feel hurt, even if you still believed you were a bit at fault for agreeing to his moronic plan. You knew you’d end up like this, suffering over someone who didn’t see you the same way, and you still fell headfirst into that trap. Maybe you were the bad guy in that situation, maybe you were the creepy one for taking advantage of his situation just to feel his body against yours, just to kiss him and pretend that it was all true. Maybe you had no room to judge.
If you concentrated really hard, you could probably pinpoint the exact moment in which you realized that you were head over heels for your best friend. It wasn’t as glamorous as you’d like, just a dirty thought catalyzed by your teen hormones that unleashed an avalanche — it had happened back in the dark, desolate lands of high school, when you were cheering for Jungkook during one of his games. It was an important one, from what you could remember, his brain buzzing with the tension of his senior year and the promise of a fantastic victory. As always, you were there for him: front row, face painted with the colors of your high school, and cheering him on.
He smiled at you, like he always did, but there was something odd about it. Like a lightning crossing the sky, one simple (yet fatal) intrusive thought popped up inside your head: he’s hot.
It was all downhill from there. As much as you tried to wave those ideas away, they kept growing and multiplying, finding new ways to justify themselves — not only was Jungkook hot, suddenly, but you also realized that he would be an amazing boyfriend. He was sweet, kind, funny, determined, a bit ditzy sometimes but nothing you couldn’t deal with. He heard you complain about your problems when needed, but also felt comfortable enough to be vulnerable with you. There were so many shared interests between you two that you were positive that you could talk forever and never run out of topics to discuss. Jungkook was a walking minefield and you just stepped right on it.
And there you were, stumbling your way down into hell as your lives progressed, and Jungkook got into the same college as you. As predicted, he quickly grew to be the campus’ new star player: a great attacking midfielder, with the number 10 plastered on his shirt and a heart-stopping smile on his face. How on earth could you fight that temptation? It was like a re-enactment of Eve and the snake in the garden of eden. Only the snake had amazing thunder thighs that looked even better with his team’s shorts.
You always asked yourself if Jungkook knew what he was doing when he used his shirt to dry the sweat on his forehead, leaving his glistening abs in full display; or maybe when he hugged and swirled you around after they won a game. Part of you wanted to believe that he liked you back, even if you couldn’t really see it. Most of you believed that he was just his personality and nothing else.
“Hey,” he breathed out, voice husky against your ear. You thanked his oversized jacket for concealing the goosebumps on your arms. “You good?”
Just on the brink of a meltdown, no biggie. “Yeah, I’m okay.”
He hummed, nuzzling his face against your neck. “Just a little bit longer, alright?” He placed a tiny kiss there, but it was powerful enough to make you whimper quietly. No one seemed to notice, but you didn’t know why Jungkook did that when you had just told him that your neck was sensitive. “They seem convinced.”
Maybe “they” should have you included as well, because you had to actively remind yourself that you two were just acting, that he didn’t see you that way. Nevermind the pool of wetness between your legs, nevermind the way your body was on edge with his strong arms pulling you closer; his chiseled abs pressed tightly against your back. Nevermind Jungkook’s sweet smell or the gentle touches of his lips against your skin. It was all fake, dollar store material. It was just a matter of time before your ride became a pumpkin and the dream was over.
At the same time, you could tell that Jungkook was being affected as well — you could feel the outline of his hard cock poking against your ass when you pressed down on his lap; noticed the tense movements of his arms as they held onto your body. And when Jungkook spoke, with his head placed on your shoulder and a solemn expression on his face, you could tell that he got just a bit choked up every time you shifted around, brushing your ass against his erection.
The human brain is amazing when it comes to searching for any reason to prove our own theories, however, and that was why you weren’t taking any of those signs seriously — cognitive bias was a thing, and you weren’t falling for its tricks. If there are people out there that believe that the earth is flat, even with a ridiculous amount of evidence against it, you couldn’t trust yourself in believing that you had enough proof to think that Jungkook was interested in you. Maybe your argument was equivalent to “well, I can’t see gravity so it doesn’t exist”, and you didn’t even know it.
So you decided to take it easy, to aim towards the side of caution, as the night progressed into the deeper levels of Dante’s Inferno. By the time that Jungkook decided that you two had accomplished your goal and it was time to get you home, you almost cried in relief.
You two drove in almost complete silence, only sparsely commenting on a few occurrences of the night. There was a thick blanket of tension hanging between the two of you, a bitter taste in the back of your throat that you couldn’t ignore. It had been a fun night, yeah, but it was done with. Time to burst that bubble and crash back into reality.
Thankfully or not, depending where you stood, Jungkook didn’t seem to be as worried about those details. He was ridiculously cheerful, beyond proud of his skills, and a little over the moon about the fact that he had been with you the entire night, acting out things he never thought would come true.
“There you go, all done,“ he exclaimed, victorious, the second you two walked into your apartment. “It wasn’t that bad, was it?”
You scoffed, leaning against the wall so you could remove your shoes. “It wasn’t good either,” you said, monotone. You were physically, emotionally and psychologically exhausted, and you seriously didn’t want to look at his annoyingly pretty face for another second. “Have fun telling them about our instantaneous breakup.”
At that, Jungkook visibly tensed up. “Ha. Yeah…”
You sighed, beyond pissed off (and heartbroken) at that point. You weren’t Jungkook, weren’t built to lie your way through life, to pretend as if the feelings inside your chest were not your own. “By the way — fuck, I hate high heels,” you complained, throwing your shoes on the floor with a bit more force than necessary. Jungkook flinched a little, distracted. “By the way, what did Hoseok mean by that?”
He blinked, swallowing dry. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck — think of something. “By what?”
You raised one eyebrow. “Saying that you’d never have the guts to confess or whatever.”
The worst part was that Jungkook could see in your downcast eyes that you had no idea what you were asking him. You seriously couldn’t tell that he had feelings for you — or, if you did, you simply couldn’t believe it. Or maybe you just despised him on a level in which a crush would be preposterous to even consider. “Ah.” He clicked his tongue. Think, you dumbass! Come up with something! “That.”
You were getting a little choked up now. There was no way you couldn’t notice the trademarked signals of Jungkook buying himself some time, trying to come up with something inside that evil head of his. Maybe you had been right thinking that he had mentioned your name randomly one day, just to save his ass, and now he was dealing with the backlash of his actions. “Yeah, what was it about?” You pressed on.
Jungkook chuckled, nervous. “Man… I was really hoping you’d forget that.”
You took a step closer to him, anticipating what was to come. If he was going to hurt you, you wished he would just do it quickly, without dragging it out so much. “Just tell me, Jungkook.”
And he was trying. Kind of. Jungkook was looking at you like his brain was frying, the Widow’s blue screen reflecting off his widened eyes. “Fuck,” he cursed under his breath, stare falling to the floor. “I can’t lie to you about that.”
You scoffed, venom running up your throat. That was priceless. “You tell white lies almost every day, why is this so different?”
“Because it’s not a white lie.”
You furrowed your eyebrows and narrowed your eyes, taking another step towards him. “Why are you thinking about lying to me, in the first place?” You asked. “Even if… even if it will hurt me. I deserve to know.”
“Uhh…” he hesitated, rubbing the back of his head. “Because the truth kind of sucks and it can fuck everything up. And I don’t wanna do that.”
Apparently you were right about your previous theory, then. Jungkook didn’t see you the same way, after all. And that was fine (it wasn’t), but he couldn’t even grow a pair and tell you straight on. “So you would rather avoid it?” You didn’t relent, motivated by your frustration, your hurt, that sickly feeling of betrayal — everything at once. “That has been kind of a running theme with you, hasn’t it?” You stared at him, but Jungkook could only avert his eyes from your burning gaze, instead looking at his feet. “Fine. Don’t tell me if you don’t want to, but quit dragging me into these bullshit lies of yours. I’m tired.”
“No one has ever cancelled a date with me,” he blurted out.
You hesitated, blinking a few times as you digested his words. “What?”
He breathed out. “No one has ever cancelled a date with me. It was all me,” Jungkook confessed. “I lied to you about that because I wanted to spend more time with you. And I didn’t care about anyone else.”
Overwhelmed by a random wave of courage, his gaze snapped up at you. “I like when you watch my practice and bring me stuff, and I like when you invite me to those dumb movie marathons and make me watch the most disgusting shit,” Jungkook continued, his words falling incoherently from his mouth. You could only stare, flabbergasted, as he spilled months — years — of secrets all at once. “And I like watching you study, and I love seeing you laugh, I love spending time with you, and Hoseok is fucking tired of hearing me talk about it and do nothing.”
“I... don’t understand what you’re saying,” you told him.
“I told the guys that we were dating because you were literally the only person that popped in my mind, and the only person I actually wanted to be with,” he just went on, not paying attention to your previous comment. Jungkook was a little on edge now, a bit breathless and wide-eyed. He’s nervous, you realized. It had been a long time since you saw him like that. “And this was the best night I’ve had in a while, just because you were there and I— I’m fucking everything up, I told you I would.”
“Jungkook,” you called softly, feeling as if every inhale was an olympic sport. Your heart was beating so fast inside your chest that you were afraid of having a syncope before you could hear the words you needed so badly. “Just tell me what you want to say.”
He cleared his throat, shifting the weight from one leg to the other. “I’m like… how do I put this…?” Jungkook paused, took a deep breath, and dropped the bomb. “I’ve been kind of in love with you ever since we were like eight, yeah.”
Record scratch. Freeze frame. “You what?”
Jungkook chuckled. “Yep… awkward,” he said. “Sorry.”
It hasn’t settled in just yet, which explained why you didn’t start screaming at him. “And you have the guts to tell me that I drop things naturally?” You asked. “Are you serious? You better not be fucking with me right now.”
He raised one hand and placed it on his chest. “I’m not, promise.”
And then it hit you like a ton of bricks. “Jeon Jungkook!” You screeched, both hands flying to hold onto his shirt, rocking him back and forth with the strength of a thousand men. “I’m gonna make you swallow my fist!”
Jungkook was dumbfounded, ten times more confused than when you tried to explain to him the plot of the Velocipastor — which really wasn’t that hard, it was just a pastor who was also a dinosaur shifter. But his brain wasn’t good at following those types of unpredictable plots, and that counted your burst of anger. “That wasn’t the reaction I was expecting at all,” he murmured, voice flat with disbelief.
But it was your turn to ramble incoherently. “You’re an idiot! You’re even worse than I thought!” You were still speaking loudly, letting all that frustration wash out of you, giving place to relief. “You made me go through all this fucking night, kissing you and pretending to be your girlfriend, while you actually like me? You prick!”
You punched his chest — his stupid, muscular, rock-hard chest. “Ouch!” He whined, but you doubted it actually hurt.
“I was almost crying because of how hard it was to suppress my own feelings for you,” you told him, pulling on his shirt once again. You wanted to take it off, wanted to kiss him until he was all that you could think about. But you also wanted to dropkick him straight to the deepest circle of hell. “And you like me back? Idiot!”
“Wait, wait, what?” Jungkook’s eyebrows shot up, a perfect picture of his surprise. “For real?”
“For real.” Your shoulders slumped, the anger that possessed your body left you as quickly as it had arrived. “I’m in love with you too, you smooth-brained asshole. Ever since high school.”
He blinked, dumbfounded. “I had no idea.”
“Didn’t I tell you that speaking the truth is always the better option? You never listen.” You tugged on his shirt one more time, for dramatic effect. “Dumbass.”
“You’re the dumbass. And no, I don’t think I do,” his voice was flat, mind navigating miles away from your place. “___?”
“What?” You barked.
“How mad are you?”
You groaned. “Pretty mad, why?”
It was his turn to take a step towards you, the heat that emanated off his body now surrounding you. “Because I’m gonna kiss you right now and I’d greatly appreciate it if you didn’t bite my face off.”
You sighed, relaxing against his torso. Jungkook’s hands came up to rest on your waist, guiding you closer to him. “I’ll try my best,” you told him, “go ahead.”
Maybe all those foolish love songs and melodramatic romantic poets were onto something, because you swore you saw fireworks when Jungkook finally moved in, crashing his lips on yours. Yes, you had kissed him already that night, but there was no way those two situations could be comparable, not when you felt much lighter now that the secret was out, and that you knew what he felt when he pulled you closer, when he sighed against your mouth and caressed your lower back.
Long years of friendship granted you the knowledge that Jungkook was tender with some things, rough with others — he was gentle with kids, with his other friends, with you; he was hard around the edges when it came to his matches (being especially fiery around championships), people he didn’t like, and goals he wanted to reach. As he kissed you, you could notice him trying to figure out which approach to take with you: his lips were soft on yours, tongue slowly exploring your mouth, but his hands were harsh, groping your ass as he pushed you up against the nearest wall, a growl vibrating inside his chest.
Maybe it was a bit evil to push his buttons when you knew he was so dangerously close to snapping, but you weren’t in the right frame of mind — or, rather, you weren’t in any frame of mind at all. So, knowing very well that Jungkook was the most competitive person you knew, you pulled away from the kiss to say, “Come on, why don’t you kiss me like you mean it?”
Which might have been the dumbest final words you could’ve uttered.
You were graced with just a couple seconds of hesitation from his part — frustration and desire flashing inside his hooded eyes — before he was crashing his mouth onto yours once again. Jungkook didn’t say anything, because he didn’t need to: the messy, sensual kiss he gave you was more than enough to make you shut up. Just according to the keikaku, of course.
His hands were in the back of your tights before you could think, pulling you up and pinning you against the wall. You moaned against his lips, a shaky exhale leaving your mouth when he rolled his center against yours — cock hard and heavy inside his pants, brushing against your covered heat. Jungkook did it two, three, four times, slowly grinding against you like he couldn’t hold himself back any further, groaning at the feeling.
When he pulled away, you were almost seeing entire constellations forming in your vision, your breath labored and mind dizzy with desire. “Fuck,” he cursed, resting his forehead on yours. “Want you so fucking bad.”
“Want you too,” you told him. “Bedroom?”
He pulled back so he could look at you better. “Sure?”
You nodded. “Sure.” Leaning in, you placed a timid kiss on his lips. “Want you to fuck me, Jungkook.”
After all those years, that was all that he needed to hear. He was quick to pull you away from the wall, hands holding your body up and your legs wrapped around his waist. Jungkook knew your apartment like the back of his hand, but he still kept his eyes open as he walked towards your bedroom, your lips mindlessly attacking his thick neck. You had dreamed about doing that so many times and you could say with confidence that you weren’t disappointed by the shuddering breaths he let out, or the small grunts he gifted you every time you sucked his skin just right. By the time that Jungkook placed you on your bed, crawling over you, you were so wet that it was almost embarrassing.
He looked at you like he was hypnotized, his hands roaming up your legs, slowly spreading them so he could place himself in between. With the action, your skirt rolled up, exposing your underwear. “Shit, I thought about doing this so many times,” Jungkook murmured, almost as if he was talking to himself. “I can’t believe it’s real.”
“You’re so sappy.” You giggled, but you couldn’t deny that his low voice was getting to you. You shivered when his palms met the exposed skin of your waist, pausing in the space between your skirt and your sleeveless top. Jungkook was deep in thought, his gaze flickering all over your body. “What is it?” You asked.
“You look so fucking hot in this.” He pulled on the large piece of clothing, his tongue coming out to lick his lips. “Wanna fuck you with the jacket on. Just the jacket.”
You almost choked on your saliva — well that was something you weren’t expecting at all. “Seriously?” You raised one eyebrow, teasing him. “You have that much of a hard-on for sports?”
Jungkook didn’t seem to be in the mood for jokes, though, because he gave you a serious answer. “No, I have that much of a hard-on for you.” He dipped in so he could nestle his face on the curve of your neck, humming as he inhaled your scent. Once again, you were faced with the contrast of his soft lips against your skin, but the rough tug of his hands on your skirt. “Wanna fuck my girl with only my jacket on, what’s so wrong about that?”
You whimpered when he licked on your sensitive spot, trying to push your legs together, but being stopped by his presence between them. Jungkook successfully pulled your skirt out of you, throwing it somewhere on the floor. “Since when are you this possessive?” You asked.
He moved back, hands progressing to your tube top and sliding it down. It seemed as if the world had conspired in his favor, because it was just so easy to leave you only with his team clothes on, the elastic material leaving your body quick enough. “I’m not possessive,” he responded, only half there. His brain was trying to understand the vision of you before his eyes, only with your panties and his jacket. Jungkook could feel his cock throbbing inside his pants, begging for relief, and he just knew that sight would plague him forever. “Wanna make sure that you know you’re mine, though. I’ve thought about this for too long.”
As you fumbled for something to say, he dove back in, his mouth attacking your breasts with no time. Your back arched, fingers tangling in his messy hair as he sucked and licked your nipples, his strong hands squeezing your tits every time you moaned out. It was almost humiliating how reactive you were, with your shallow breaths and broken calls of his name, but Jungkook was fucking loving it, and he just wanted more of it.
You melted under his touches as he pulled himself closer to you, his mouth tracing its way back to your clavicles, then your neck. Much to your dismay, his hands were still on your breasts, playing with your erect nipples as he finally found that one spot that made you yelp.
“W-Wait,” you stammered, “my neck is sensitive.”
Jungkook knew that already. In fact, he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it ever since you mentioned it back at the party; his cock stiff inside his pants at the memory alone. “I noticed,” he groaned, the vibrations of his voice spreading throughout your skin. One of his hands slithered between your bodies, hastily pulling your underwear to the side so his fingers could plunge between your folds. At the sensation of your arousal, Jungkook growled, pressing his erection against your thigh. “Holy fuck. You’re soaked.”
“I told you,” you said, feeling like your brain was about to melt and drip out of your ears. It was hard to concentrate when he was making out with your neck like that, sucking and biting the skin before liking the same spot he had just attacked. Still, the sudden plunging of his finger inside your pussy caught your attention in an instant. “J-Jungkook, I’m—”
How shameful was it that you couldn’t even finish a damn sentence? Lust was getting the best of you, pushing your rationalizations aside and filling your lungs with desire. Jungkook soon added a second finger inside you, stretching you wide as he continued to fuck you. It was a fantastic sensation — his hand was much larger than yours, and you were sure you’d be able to cum like that if it kept it up for long enough.
Jungkook moaned against your neck, pulling his head back so he could take a look at you. His cock throbbed at the sight of your dazed-out face, your parted lips looking so dangerously inviting to him, “Tell me what you want,” he asked, diving in to kiss you. He sucked on your tongue, making you whine as he pulled back. “I’ll give you whatever you want.”
“Want you,” you said, nails digging into his shoulder blades.
Jungkook liked the sharp pain that came from it, raising the speed of his fingers just a bit. “I’m right here.”
“No,” you whimpered, blinking back the tears of frustration that covered your irises. God, Jungkook couldn’t even believe you were all his. “Want your cock inside me, please.”
Listening to you saying that was like experiencing a choir of angels singing directly to him. Jungkook had waited far too long to get you alone like that, so beautiful and pliant beneath him, and there was no way in hell he would deny you your request.
So he got moving, his hand flying to the back of his shirt, which he tugged off with one swift motion. Your eyes fell to his toned chest, roaming his sweaty skin as he moved onto his belt. “Take those off.” He signaled with his head towards your panties.
You nodded, sliding your underwear down and throwing it to the side. Even with his jacket still on — which, you admitted, it was both objectively and subjectively hot — you felt extremely exposed, thighs closing just slightly when Jungkook took his pants and boxers off.
“Keep them open,” he warned, his stare stuck to your glistening folds, and you did. His face was one of sheer lust, tongue coming out to wet his lips as he placed himself back in place. “Wanna see you cum on my fingers,” he breathed, “but I’m too hard. Need to be inside you right now.”
Your attention flickered downwards, pulled by the small collision of his cock against your clit. You winced at the feeling, but one of his large hands kept you in place as he moved closer to your heat. The constant drumming of your pulse was all that you could hear for a second, heart skipping a beat when you fully noticed his size.
Would it be weird to say that Jungkook had a pretty dick? Because he did. And a big one too, which made you second guess your own limits for a moment.
As if he was reading your mind, his cockhead pressed against your pussy, so warm and wet that Jungkook swore he was about to lose his mind — or what was left of it. There was nothing more that he wanted then to nestle himself in your heat, bury himself deep inside you until you were the only thing he could think about. “Shit, look at you,” he murmured, brushing his tip against your entrance. Your figure twitched under him, a soft gasp leaving your mouth at the feeling. “Bet I could slide right in.”
He was hypnotized by the squelching sounds of your pussy, the way your opening fluttered around his crown as he slowly started to press himself into you. He wanted to do it slowly so he could pay attention to every detail of you, every small exclamation of pleasure that dripped like honey from your lips.
The world around you two was getting smaller and hotter by the minute, suffocating you and pulling the air out of your lungs. Your eyelashes fluttered as Jungkook’s cock slid inside you, just the tip at first, your back arching as your walls clenched around him, almost as if your body was rejecting his size. “You’re so big,” you whined, burry eyes fighting to focus on his face.
Jungkook, however, wasn’t looking at you, but at the way his member sank between your folds, diving into your wet heat. “Yeah?” He breathed out, jaw clenching. It was taking everything inside him not to start pounding into you. “I’m sure you can take it, don’t you think?”
You nodded, and it took a moment for your words to catch up to you. “Y-Yes,” you said.
Jungkook was more than halfway inside you now, and his mind was more than halfway gone, thrown out of the window and into the gelid nocturnal winds. The way you were wrapping around him should be illegal; you were so perfect that jungkook was sure he could never find a drug that would get him so high. “That’s it, be greedy for me,” he groaned, “take everything.”
He went as deep as he could, his cock almost brushing against your cervix and your cunt throbbing against him. Maybe he had died and was in paradise, because there was no way he could be feeling so good.
“Move, please,” you asked meekly.
Lucky you, he was more than happy to comply.
Jungkook tilted his hips back, until just his tip was still inside you, only to bottom out again, feeling as your cunt throbbed around him. He did this with unbearable patience at first, allowing your body to get accustomed to his cock splitting you open before he started to pick up the pace. Most of his self control had already burned out, though, at it wasn’t long before he was fucking you fast, rough; groaning at the way your tits jumped every time he shived his length back inside you.
Once again, he felt like a virgin — you were too much, it seemed. Everything about you got him searching for the stars, wishing for more and moaning out every time your cunt squeezed around him. You were so fucking wet, he thought, so tight and warm, that he wasn’t even thinking about cumming, just about how wished to keep fucking you forever. At the same time, Jungkook was sure that he wouldn’t last long, not when you were looking at him like that, calling his name again and again until it silenced all his thoughts.
Your breath hitched when his cock brushed against your sensitive spot. “Right there, right there,” you sobbed, nails scratching the skin of his arms. Jungkook caught onto your request straight away, keeping the same angle until you were a babbling mess under him. “Oh m-my god, yeah,” you cried out. “S-So good.”
“Fuck, that’s tight,” Jungkook cursed, his hands digging into your thighs, shoving them up for him so he could reach deeper, fuck you harder. He couldn’t stop moaning, gasping, producing the most beautiful sounds for you. “S-Shit, you’re just pulling my cock in. Your pussy feels amazing.” If given enough time, he could go crazy staring at the way in which his cock disappeared between your folds, only to come back dripping with your arousal, and then slamming back in. “You’re just so fucking hot,” he couldn’t help but say it out loud. “Play with your tits for me.”
You didn’t have the guts to deny him, your hands palming your tits, squeezing the soft flesh. You whimpered at the feeling, eyes closing in bliss as he continued to fuck you.
“That’s it, so good for me,” Jungkook praised, hips losing their rhythm for a second. His cock was already throbbing, orgasm threatening to hit him any time now. He needed you to cum first, though. “Your pussy too. Come on.”
That time, you hesitated a little, a broken sob falling from your lips as you found his gaze. However, you couldn’t deny it — you wanted to be good for him, to get his praises again and again until that was all that you could hear. So you followed his command, two fingers, sinking into your wetness before trailing back to your clit.
A rush of pleasure ran through your veins, pussy clenching around his cock as your moments grew desperate, needy for more. You were bordering on delirious by that point, your mind unable to focus on one thing, instead jumping between all the stimulation you were getting — your hand squeezing your breast; your fingers rubbing your clit; Jungkook’s cock drilling inside you. “T-Too much,” you cried.
God, but that’s exactly what he wanted. Jungkook wanted to see that pretty, overwhelmed face of yours, wanted to show you that every minute of waiting had been worth it. “Yeah? But you can take it for me, can’t you?” He moaned under his breath, starting to get lost in his own pleasure. You were getting tighter by the second, which was a dangerous thing. “You can cream my cock if I ask you to, right?”
“Y-yeah,” you stammered. “I’ll do anything f-for you.”
Jungkook sighed at your words, cock throbbing inside you. “Good girl, just like that,” he husked. “Such a good girl.”
Tears started to prickle your eyes, and you didn’t know if it was because of how overwhelmed you were, or because your emotions were just now starting to tip over. “J-Jungkook,” you called his name, for a moment not knowing if you would follow it up with something else. His eyes found your own, dazed ones, and his heart skipped a beat at how beautiful and his you looked at that moment. “Love y-you.”
Years of fantasizing about that confession could’ve never prepared the two of you for such an honest, unexpected moment. Jungkook felt his soul reach levels of happiness which he had never experienced before, mouth only able to say one thing in return. “Love you too.” He pressed his forehead against yours, movements becoming more sloppy, desperate. The new angle was an amazing discovery, his cock hitting that perfect spot inside you, which tore a loud cry from you. “Holy shit,” he moaned. “You’re getting so fucking t-tight around my cock.”
“Close,” you breathed out, letting go of his previous requests and just taking your hands to his face instead. Jungkook stared at you like he could see the entire universe in your eyes, his hot breaths hitting your face in gentle waves. “K-Kiss me, please.”
There was no need to repeat yourself. Jungkook crashed his mouth against yours, trapping you in a kiss that felt both like too much and too little at the same. You barely had any time to dive into the caress of his lips on yours before your high washed over you — walls spasming around his length as you dove into bliss; moaning into the kiss and holding to his broad shoulders.
He broke the kiss right after, a stuttering, failed breath leaving his chest. “L-Love you,” he choked out, “so much.” Jungkook gasped. He was so close, but, at the same time, he didn’t want to let go just yet. It felt too good — having you was too perfect. “Can’t b-believe you’re mine.”
You smiled at his state, one hand brushing the sweaty hair away from his forehead. “Love you too,” you said back. You could say it again and again, without ever getting tired. After so many years swallowing it down, nothing felt so free. “It’s okay, you can let go.”
Jungkook nodded, only mildly aware of his own actions. With all the force within him, he pushed himself away from you, pulling out from your heat. Soon, his hand wrapped around his cock, using your arousal to pump himself towards his much-needed release. “Shit,” he choked up, throwing his head back. “Oh, fuck, I’m gonna—”
Jungkook grunted as he finally reached his high; cock throbbing in his hands. His cum splattered all over your belly, a few white ropes hitting the underside of your tits as well; dripping down to your mound and pelvis as his movements started to slow down. Even then, so fucked-out and overwhelmed, Jungkook looked like a god you’d be more than happy to worship.
“Fuck,” he heaved, hooded eyes trailing over your form. By some miracle, probably the work of some mysterious sports god, his jacket remained untouched. “That looks so hot.”
You smiled, taking a glimpse at your body. “And messy.”
He let out a breathy, tired laugh. “Yeah. Gonna clean you up, just give me a second. I almost blacked out here.”
Playfully, you kicked the side of his thigh. “You better,” you told him. “And don’t be so melodramatic.”
“Rude.” He leaned in, placing a kiss on your lips. You still felt like you were dreaming, trapped in an alternate reality. If that was the case, you didn’t want to wake up. “Next time I’ll cum in your mouth so you’ll learn some manners.”
Next time. Those words fell like a stone inside your stomach. It was pretty much impossible to mask your lovesick gaze now. “Yeah, bold of you to believe it’ll change a thing.” You pushed him off you, signaling towards the bathroom. “Go, be a good boy and go get me a towel.”
Jungkook rolled his eyes, but did as you said, leaving the bed soon after. “I liked you better when you were pretending to be my fake girlfriend,” he spoke from the corridor. “You were more polite.”
“I was acting,” you said. “This is what you’re gonna get.”
He laughed, appearing back in the room. “Ah, well, I guess I made my choice years ago.”
That managed to shut you up real fast, heart hammering against your ribcage as Jungkook started cleaning you up. His movements were tender on your skin, feather-like touches that moved up your abdomen, to your breasts, then back between your legs. During all that, a familiar, comfortable silence fell between you two — one that you had grown used to; so empty and yet so full.
After he was done, Jungkook discarded the towel, returning to his rightful place next to you. Like it was your second nature, you curled yourself up next to him, head resting on his chest and his arm wrapping around your waist.
The world was perfect for exactly thirty seconds before he decided to ruin it. “So…” Jungkook started, a mischievous smirk already curling on his lips, “you like like me.”
You scoffed, propping your chin on his chest and meeting his gaze. Jungkook was too cute and too hot for his own good, and his post-sex state managed to incorporate both elements in a hazardous combination. “Yes. And you like like me back.” You remarked. “Did you seriously have to go through all these steps instead of just, I don’t know, telling me?”
He threw his head back, eyes closing in sheer desperation. “I didn’t know!”
“Everyone knew!” You exclaimed back, flabbergasted. You couldn’t believe that all those years of shared distress could’ve been solved with the most basic common sense. “Do you think I watch your games because I like them? I tell you all the time I hate sports! Dumbass!”
Jungkook flinched when you slapped the top of his head lightly, forging pain. “Ouch! You’re the dumbass. And I thought you were kidding.” He pouted, eyes drifting off towards a corner of the room. You could tell he was thinking, so you gave him his time. “But now that you mention it…”
You rolled your eyes, laying back down. “Yeah, that’s not so hard to—”
“I cannot stand body horror.”
“What?” You shrieked, sitting up at lightning speed. That managed to be the most unexpected thing Jungkook had told you that night — scratcher that: ever. “You told me you loved watching body horror with me.”
He shook his head, an expression of disgust on his face as he was reminded of every horror movie he had ever watched. “I almost puke watching it. I just pretend I enjoy it because it makes you happy.”
For a moment, your mouth hung open, mind working a million miles per hour to make sense of his admission. Thinking back to it, you had noticed how frequently Jungkook went to the bathroom while watching Tusk; about how many times he coughed and turned his head away from the Human Centipede. “Oh my god.” Your shoulders slumped, your voice was a frail little thing, filled by disbelief. You couldn’t call him dumb when you had acted just the same. “We’re both idiots.”
Jungkook laughed as you returned to your previous position, placing a kiss on the top of your head. “Yeah, I think that’s the only possible conclusion.”
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Oil and White Lace (18+ Smut Series)
This is a masterlist of my Karl Heisenberg x female reader smut series. What started as one simple post to get thoughts out of my head turned into a series that I'm obsessed with writing.
Have fun reading!! I'll keep updating this list!
Reader’s Skills/Talents/History I guess
"Oil is Messier than Blood." (Part One)
"Oil Stains White Lace." (Part Two)
"Smoke Rings on Gold Frames." (Part Three)
"Honey Coated Handles." (Part Four)
"A Lady's Favor." (Part Five)
"A Little Black Bug." (Part Six)
“Tenderness in the Afterglow.” (Part Seven)
“Mother’s Favorite Lipstick.” (Part Eight)
“Storms of the Mind.” (Part Nine)
“Guided Sins.” (Part Ten)
“Copper Ties.” (Part Eleven)
“Prized Among the Dammed.” (Part Twelve )
"Night and Day." (Part Thirteen)
"On Your Best Behavior." (Part Fourteen )
“Under the Stallion’s Reign.” (Part Fifteen )
“Full Moon’s Promise.” (Part Fifteen-1/2 )
“Gears of Gold.” ( Part Sixteen)
“Stress Relief.” (Part Seventeen )
“Sweet and Unsilent.” ( Part Eighteen)
“Mechanical Defect.” (Part Nineteen )
“Judgement Day.” ( Part Twenty)
“Forgotten Sybils.” (Part Twenty One )
“Many Delicate Matters.” (Part Twenty Two )
“What Should’ve Been.” (Part Twenty Two-1/2 )
“Distant Confrontation.” (Part Twenty Three )
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so every fanfiction is canon now..
y/n YOU WHORE!!
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# 𝐆𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐇𝐈𝐌 𝐀 𝐁𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐑, 𝐖𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐏𝐒
⤷ pairings : suna rintaro, atsumu miya, osamu miya, iwaizumi hajime, koutarou bokuto, sugawara koushi
⤷ warnings : nsfw 18+, characters are post time skip, suggestive themes but nothing too explicit, somnophillia for suga
⤷ author’s note : waHooo i did it! also all terms are gender neutral :9
⤷ part 2?
𝐇.𝐈𝐖𝐀𝐈𝐙𝐔𝐌𝐈 — iwaizumi sharply exhaled and you could feel his arm relax around your body. he’s had a long day and stress was written all over his face. when you opened your arms and invited him for cuddles, he was more than happy to oblige. he pressed his chest against your back as you glanced over your shoulder. with his lips slightly ajar, his once furrowed brows were relaxed. perhaps you could alleviate more of that stress? shuffling to get closer to him, your ass “accidentally” brushed against his dick. 20 times. by the 21st time, his arms were gripping your sides and pulling your ass flushed against his cock. slightly digging his fingers into your waist, he placed his face into the back of your head, feeling his hot breath against your nape. “keep doing that sweetheart and you’ll see what happens”.
𝐊.𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐓𝐎 — watching the tv was the least of your concerns. you were all too aware of your boyfriend’s hand resting, playing with your thighs. there wasn’t any intention but you had other thoughts. adjusting yourself on bokuto’s lap, claiming that his rock hard thighs were uncomfortable, your lower back happened to rub against his dick. he cleared his throat and you could hear him inhale sharply. even though you made the same lame excuse of trying to make yourself comfortable, he hadn’t noticed what you were doing, until he wrapped his arms around your abdomen. hugging you close, he placed his forehead against the base of your neck. his cock twitched and his breathing became uneven. “b-baby… you think you could help me here?” maybe you went a bit too far.
𝐌.𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐔 — it’s friday night and what better way to spend it by snuggling up against your boyfriend. just to have a bit of fun, you started shifting and backing up further into him, ass making contact with dick. he could feel you down there and smirked. “you tryna tell me something, pretty girl?” he snaked his arms around your chest and pulled you closer. you didn’t have to continue rubbing yourself against him because his dirty mind did the work for you. shoving two fingers into your mouth, he slung a leg around yours. “if you’re that eager, you could have just told me.”
𝐌.𝐎𝐒𝐀𝐌𝐔 — you wanted to see how much you could affect your boyfriend. while pressing your chest up against his, you pretended to play a game on your phone, while your legs encased his. you shuffled your hips closer to his and it took you all your strength from moaning out his name when your clit rubbed a little too hard. taking a quick glance at the side of your head, he knew exactly what you were doing. he grabbed you by the waist and held you in place. it took you by surprise and you gasped when his fingers tightened. he was amused even though he was half hard. taking this as a challenge, you started to rock your hips against his thighs. with a sultry face and a bite to the lip, you felt yourself up trying to rile him up. and it worked. say goodbye to your pussy.
𝐑.𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐀 — oh how you waited for a moment like this. after all of those times of him sending you lewd images, touching you and never giving more, saying suggestive words in public, it was time to pay him back for all of those frustrating moments. rubbing your knee against his cock, you buried your face into his chest. he looked unbothered, sleeping soundly but his body said otherwise. no reaction, no change in breathing, even when his dick throbbed painfully. lazily opening one eye, he noticed what you were doing and grabs your knee, stopping your actions. swallowing, you looked up at him and before you knew it, he had you pinned and spreading your legs.
𝐊.𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐀 — you kinda felt bad for him. assuming you were already asleep and were just moving around in your sleep, he cussed when your ass repeatedly grazed his cock. you could feel him tense against your back, and just by the way he cursed, you knew he didn’t know what to do with his pent up frustration. he doesn’t want to wake you up, so with a bite to the lip, he thrusted into your thighs. stifling a moan, he rammed and rocked himself, using you to reach his high. his breath felt warm against your nape and he softly chanted your name into your ear. he instinctively reached for your clit when he came. his sinful moan was able to mask your quiet whine.
© riintarro 2021. do not repost/copy, alter, or share any of my works onto any other platforms.
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Summary: When you and Bucky successfully infiltrate a HYDRA auction, you’re told to stay another day due to max capacity on the jet. But how are you going to survive a night alone with this insufferable Super Soldier? Especially considering the miniscule size of the room and the obvious dilemma presented; who gets the bed?
Warning: S M U T , the smuttiest thing I’ve ever written, language, spit kink, daddy kink, ptsd symptoms, slight voyeurism, slight exhibitionism, hate-s e x, rough, more like enemies-to-lovers kind of thing, gagging, m!receiving, f!receiving, lots of receiving lol, 18+, M
Word Count: 10.6K (Whhhyyyyy)
Your body burned with exhaustion and the sheer weight of your extremities felt enough to drag you to the floor and mirror a coma with the length of your hibernation. You no longer had the minimal strength required to pick up your feet properly which resulted in the sound of shuffling to fill the small, and by small you meant miniscule, room you’d been assigned to.
Well, you and Bucky had been assigned to.
You’d both played your parts well enough over the course of the last few hours. You’d sauntered into the ran-shacked looking bar with Bucky’s arm tossed lazily over your shoulder, his distaste for the assignment evident on his face, but he’d cleared it away the second his foot crossed the threshold. He pulled you in tighter to his body and raised his chin into the air, emitting the energy of a man not to be trifled with. You’d portrayed your role as a damsel just as, if not more, convincing as Barnes’ opposite. Your shoulders hunched over and your steps were small and quivering, the wig on your head a tool used to curtain the hair in your face.
You were the lamb to this White Wolf.
Word had traveled through the dark and twisted grapevine that a certain showing of sorts took place tonight and a high-ranking target was rumored to be amongst its audience. You and Barnes were on the first flight to Germany within minutes.
Bucky had pulled you through the crowd moving along to the thundering music in the background and halted at the edge of the bar. His grip on your shoulder tightened once he’d caught the man’s attention and you winced, his fingers digging a little too deep for your liking.
The bartender scanned you over and took in your frame, making you feel smaller than you had already displayed yourself to be. It took him a while to conclude but when he took in Bucky’s domineering gaze, a look as if to say Deny me, I dare you, he nodded once and wrote something down on a napkin, sliding it over to Bucky.
Scum. All of them.
You nearly blew your cover trying to throw Bucky a look but you refrained from the hellfire clawing its way out of you. You had to be perfectly in control, emotions and beliefs aside. You were a damsel and you had to make certain they believed that. You knew they were watching; they always were.
“Relax,” Bucky hissed, pulling you under his arm and bringing his lips to your ear.
“When you pretend you’re the one being put up for auction, then you can tell me to relax,” you muttered, never looking up from the ground.
“I have been.” When you paused your movement, he pulled away to scan the room, “Nothing’s gonna happen to you. I promise.” He led you backstage and turned the corner to a dimly lit hallway, barren of any decoration in sharp contrast to every other section of the building, “Besides, once they realize how insufferable you are, they’ll be begging me to take you back,”
He opened an iron door and pushed you into the room, sending you tumbling down onto the carpet. He tsked, stepping over you and not looking back after shutting the door behind himself. You counted thirteen pairs of feet and judging by the way some of them were turned towards you, they had to be watching. You observed your hands for a second, counting slowly until you figured you’d stalled long enough and sent your trembling gaze to the exit. Bucky let out a low chuckle and clasped his hand around your upper arm, launching you back onto your feet and twisting your body to face him.
Oh, darling, German fluently escaped his tongue and you nearly rolled your eyes at the condescending tone settled in his words, You know better than that, don’t you?
His hold tightened and you winced, holding back the whimper in your throat. If you saw any hint of a bruise forming on your arm, you would give him hell later . . . and possibly even if you didn’t.
You bit your tongue and let him lead you towards a leather chair before he pulled you swiftly down onto his lap where his hand remained on your thigh, brushing the inside softly. Had you not been so annoyed, you’d have been humiliated at all the stares devouring the scene unfolding before them.
Good girl, he drawled and pressed your back flat up against his chest where he could put you on display.
You knew you should’ve been annoyed, or at least settled so into your role as his temporary whore-for-sale that the sensation coming alive between your thighs shouldn’t have made an appearance. But sometimes, the way Bucky brought his voice down real low and cooed an insult or jest your way just had an affect that your body would not deny. It kept you awake a lot.
Instead, you swallowed hard and let yourself be splayed against him. You ignored the scent of sandalwood in his cologne.
Your body trembled from the cold breeze floating around in the room and you shifted in Bucky’s lap to block everyone’s sight from the way your chest reacted to the change in temperature.
Don’t be shy, he murmured and removed your arms from your breasts, letting the thin, practically see-through fabric show you to the world.
“Buc-” You started, your panic creeping through the cracks at the cheshire sneers sent your way, but at the first sign of your discomfort, he retracted his hands and twisted you around gently, throwing your legs over the side of the chair and spreading them but forcing your upper half to face him. Effectively, cutting your chest off from their line of sight.
You trembled out a sigh and he grabbed your face tightly, drawing your eyes to his. He examined you, his hardened gaze shouting words he couldn’t currently say. But you understood. He could be a jerk, but he wasn’t a bad man.
Your body instinctively leaned into him for warmth as another breeze engulfed you, resulting in a shiver that made its way up your spine. “Are they still looking?” you inquired and he gripped your neck with a ferocity that made you squirm in his lap. Fuck.
He pulled your ear to his lips and licked the helix. You whimpered. “No,” he whispered, running his thumb along your jawline, “But if you don’t quit fucking squirming you’re gonna have a problem, Doll,”
You opened your mouth in question when you felt a sudden twitch on your backside and you swallowed. Hard. He never broke eye contact with you, instead choosing to raise a brow in mocking. Your chest heaved up and down and how you could feel his breath grazing on your cheek almost had you rubbing your legs together for some form of desperate friction. No, you had to keep yourself composed, keep the act going. But he’d seen it. All of it.
You nod your head and slowed your breathing down until he released his grip around your throat and turned his attention towards the dim stage. You leaned back into him and followed suit, making sure to keep your attention downcast and appear disheveled.
“There,” Bucky whispered after a few minutes and you lifted your head only to find the man you had come all this way for walking straight towards you.
Like a moth to a flame.
“How much?” The older man inquired, his grotesque gaze settled on your spread legs.
Bucky looked up at the balding man as if this was the first time he’d noticed his presence, “I guess you’ll just have to wait and see, won’t you?”
The man lifted his brow, or what would’ve been, and smiled wickedly, “I’ll give you double your price if you give her to me now,” he offered, his eyes slithering up to the apex of your thighs and this time you didn’t have to fake the shiver running up your spine.
A small smirk formed on Bucky’s face and he waved his hand dismissively at him, “Get in line,”
The old man sneered but Bucky was right, most everyone had their attention fixated on what was happening currently and it was apparent there was, indeed, a line.
Bucky rested his gloved hand on your upper thigh and gripped tight, whether to refrain from hitting the guy or just to touch you, he wasn’t sure but he couldn’t keep you away when the man said, “I’ll give you four times the asking price but I want her now,”
Bucky’s grip on your thigh tightened and you squeaked at the pain, jumping slightly in his lap. “How about I give her to you for free for ten minutes and you tell me if you can handle her,”
You jerked your head towards Bucky and furrowed your brows. Free? Dick. You nearly scoffed.
The man gripped onto your calf and you shifted to kick his hand away when Bucky’s own shot out and and ripped his off of you, “Don’t touch my stuff,” he spit and the man let out a yell but that only spurred Bucky on and he tightened his fist, “Until terms are agreed upon, she remains mine to do with as I please. Understood?”
The man nodded hastily and Bucky threw you off his lap when he stood up. “Anyone else?” Bucky shouted to the room, daring others to test his limits when it came to you. After a few moments of silence Bucky scoffed, “I didn’t fucking think so,”
Bucky’s grip on the man remained and he stared down at the hunched figure, “Now, you,” he addressed and the room remained silent. This was allowed here.
Normally, merchandise couldn’t be touched until it was purchased. No buying before the auction, no discussing what you’re offering, no negotiating but most importantly don’t try to steal from anyone. These are criminals and that being said, they handle things amongst themselves. They know the rules and the risks they take breaking them.
So, when Bucky drags the poor bastard away, you follow right behind him. Not a protest to be heard. Bucky throws open the door we entered through and finds the nearest room before chucking the HYDRA agent inside and locking the door behind you.
The room was brightly lit, with all four walls a dull cream color and dark brown couches strewn casually about. There’s no real order to this place. All cement corners and LED bulbs. Pure business.
“Let ‘em know,” Bucky orders and you turn around to argue only to find the man pulling a gun out of his jacket pocket.
You jerk suddenly and kick Bucky square in the stomach, launching him towards one of the couches just as a shot rings out. You blanch at the sound, the noise filling your head and drowning everything else out. You hear yelling but you can’t make out the words, only the panic intermingled within them. Your hand reaches out around you and you grip the small button lined into your thin clothing, pressing it four times how you’d been instructed.
Everything moved slowly and people began filing into the room. How did they get here so fast? No. It wasn’t possible, they were a quarter mile down the road, there was no way they were your backup.
Hands began flying in the air and you were picked up and dropped multiple times, each time landing harder than the last. You tried to blink back the spinning but the blows landing on your face and torso made it all the worse.
Instinctively, you threw your hands up to protect your face and fought to find some footing to help. Bucky was good but he wasn’t a God, he would need help. When the first blow met your forearms you reached out to grasp the hand and used your other to drive your fist right into the person’s nose. The bone crunched under your blow.
You took a hit, then another when you managed to analyze the enemy’s fight pattern and waited until he left himself open before driving your knee into his rib cage. He bent over in pain and you grabbed him by the hair, hearing another crack when you shoved your elbow upwards against his nose.
You heard a shout and whipped your head over to see Bucky on his back, a looming figure with a gun aimed straight towards him. You galvanized towards them and threw yourself in the air, using your weight to kick him off of Bucky when another shot rang out.
Bucky shot up and crushed the gun with his metal arm. You scoured the room for the familiar HYDRA agent but found him nowhere. You shot out of the room, knocking into an opposing wall as you turned the corner and ducked when the sound of a bullet whizzed past you.
This is not going good. You had lost your target and rummaged through room after room until you’d become lost. Fuck. Where the hell did he run off to? You winced after breaking out into a sprint but pressed on, not allowing yourself to slow down. There was no way you were going to fail this mission, especially after coming so close to success.
Sweat trailed down your face and your muscles screamed at you to halt, their exhaustion beginning to wear you down. Your breathing grew rapid and your vision blurred and just as you went to lean on a wall to rest, your shoulder exploded out in pain and you collapsed with a cry.
“Dirty whore,” the HYDRA man seethed, a cane raised over his head. He brought it down and you spun to the side, feeling the air breeze past your ear.
Your hand latched onto the cane and you shoved it into his gut, pushing him away. SHIELD wanted this guy alive, so alive they would receive him. That didn’t mean he had to come in one piece though.
You tore the walker out of his hand just as he tumbled onto his ass. You stood up, grunting along the way and hovered over his body, fear sprawled along his features.
“You can either stay still or get beat with your own cane, it’s your choice,” you offered, aching to bring the walker down onto his face. “Please test me. Please.” You begged.
His gaze shifted between you and the weapon and he brought his trembling hands up in defeat. He must’ve been an agent of some Intelligence branch because his fighting abilities were evidently subpar at best.
You sighed, sad to see the opportunity go but brought the cane down none the less. “That’s unfortunate,”
You turned your attention to the sound of running coming around the corner and moved to drag and hide your captive in a nearby closet only to roll your eyes when Bucky came ‘round. You tossed the cane back and forth between your hands and smiled proudly towards the agent on the floor.
“Look who I caught,” you toyed and were met with a grunt.
“Only because you let him get away,” he retorted, pulling the balding man up to his feet.
Everything began to slow and the hellfire you’d kept under mounds of ice had finally melted through its freezing cage. “What?”
He turned his back towards you and trudged the hesitant man behind him towards the exit.
“I said,” you hollered, not caring how the halls carried your echo, “What?”
“I heard what you said,” he called back to you, not bothering to turn around.
And there you were left, frozen and dumbfounded for five solid minutes before you could pull yourself together enough to stomp your way back towards the rendezvous point. You remained hazy for the most part while debriefing. You tried to recount everything but the way your anger engulfed you in its flame obscured your memory so you kept it short.
It was quickly brought up that SHIELD captured more HYDRA agents than expected and were gonna be at max capacity so you and Bucky had to stay at a base a few miles down the road. You grumbled in compliance but Bucky didn’t respond, not even a godforsaken grunt.
What SHIELD had failed to mention though, was that this bunker was clearly meant for one. It barely counted as a room. There was a small bathroom in the corner just big enough for a shower and toilet. No sink. And a small counter with just enough space for a stove, microwave and radio. If you were to lay down vertically or horizontally you’d nearly be touching wall each way. Not to mention the singular bed.
And that’s how you got to where you were now. Miniscule room. Exhausted body. Drained mind. Patience long gone.
You huffed and dropped your bag in front of the entrance before walking to the bathroom and turning to slam the door closed. You turned the faucet on and ripped the wig off, discarding your clothes in a pile before stepping into the shower. The warm water was nice and welcoming but your body already felt aflame so you twisted the knob and held your breath when the cold stream trickled down your body. It was difficult to breathe at first, but your body soon adjusted to the temperature and you began wiping the muck off your skin with the bar of soap supplied. But that’s all the was supplied. Clearly, this place was meant to be a quick pit stop.
You sat on the hard floor as the water streamed onto your body. You could nearly fall asleep to its rhythm; It was only when your head hit the wall that you realized you were so you begrudgingly stood up and shut off the water. You grabbed the only towel in the bathroom and pat yourself dry, noticing just then that you left your clothes outside.
You let out a long sigh and twisted open the doorknob to find Bucky toying with the radio on the counter; not even purposefully, just looking for something to do while he waited.
You opened your mouth to ask him to hand you your bag but after what he said to you earlier you’d sooner eat hot coals than ask him to do anything for you. You stepped out of the bathroom, towel wrapped neatly around your chest and you bent over to open your bag. The shuffling on the radio stopped.
“You could’ve at least left me some warm water,” he grumbled and you rolled your eyes.
You searched in your bag for the fresh clothes residing there only to turn around when you found them and have the bathroom door shut in your face.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” You shouted, pounding your fist against the door.
You could hear the water running and you groaned, pounding harder. The door opened for a split second and you were hit in the face with the clothes you’d left inside only for it to instantly be slammed shut again.
You punched the door with all the frustration built up over the past few hours and felt the wood crack with your force. Why did this man have to be incredibly baffling? You were not nearly paid enough to deal with such an unbearable partner. He would have you bald from stress before you knew it.
You spent the next few minutes grumbling to yourself after you changed and scribbled your frustration onto a small notebook you took with you everywhere. It was only when you heard the water shut off did you remember something. You still had the only towel. A villainous smirk tugged at your lips and you placed the folded towel on the edge of the bed, away from the door.
Then you heard the creak. “I will walk out naked if you don’t give me the towel,” Bucky threatened.
You shrugged despite him not being able to see you from your position on the bed, “I’ll just laugh at your dick,”
“You weren’t laughing earlier,” he shot back.
Oh. So he did remember. Good. You thought he’d gotten amnesia within the past few hours, maybe he was just too ashamed to mention it.
“Too disgusted to insult. Plus, I was playing a character,”
“Fine,” he responded and quickly came into view, haughtily sauntering over to your side and you shouted.
“Dear God!” You held the towel up to block your sight of his barren body. It was disgusting. He was all wet, hair dripping onto his muscled torso, water gleaming off his taut skin, 5 o’clock shadow drenched and straight out of a wet dream. Jesus.
“Prude,” he commented, snatching the towel from your grasp and wrapping it around himself.
“Respectable,” you corrected, crossing your arms and shoving him away. “You get the floor,”
He lifted his duffle off the ground and rummaged through it. “Then I get the blanket,”
“You get fuck all,” you stated, flipping off the lamp beside you and snuggling into the warm cot.
When the shuffling stopped and the bathroom light was shut off, you shut your eyes and let the wear of the day grab at you, lulling you into the beginning of slumber. That is, until the blanket was hauled from around you, damn near throwing you onto the floor. You shouted out and caught yourself last minute.
“Barnes!” You yelled, steadying yourself and reaching over the edge to grab the blanket back. Your hand fisted at the faux fur and you pulled with all your might to no avail.
He swatted you away as though you were a pesky fly and reached over to turn the light of the lamp on. You glowered at him and stood, wrapping the blanket around your arm and pulling upwards. Your arm strained to its capacity but the man on the floor didn’t budge. Only turned his back to you and shut his eyes. You reached over yourself and flipped the switch of the lamp, once again immersing yourself in the comforting darkness.
Bucky stiffened and opened his eyes then turned and froze you in your spot with his stare. He reached around and lit the lamp, slowly retracting his arm and daring you to turn it off again. So you did.
He yanked the blanket from your grasp and threw you back onto the bed, bringing light into the room. “Light stays on,” he growled.
“No! You’ve had your goddamn way since you stepped foot into this room. Light goes off and I get the blanket!” You shouted, not concerned about anyone else hearing considering the room was soundproof.
“No. You get the bed so I get the blanket. Tell me how that doesn’t make sense,” he countered.
You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of admitting that it did, in fact, make sense. The floor here was wooden and clearly uncomfortable, plus he hadn’t even argued about the bed situation.
You retreated, “Fine, light still goes off,”
Silence fell between the two of you but you weren’t budging. Barnes had faced plenty of monsters, he could handle the dark.
“I need the noise to fall asleep,” he admitted and it was then you could hear the slight hum the bulb emitted.
You didn’t speak for a while but reared back and pulled out your phone, “What do you want to listen to?” You scrolled through a few sounds you had stored on your phone, “We’ve got: nature sounds, frequencies, guided meditations, etc. You name it, but I’m not sleeping with this forsaken light on,”
Bucky studied you, his expression changing a mile a minute but the one of indifference conquered, “Rain,”
You nodded once and selected the audio, placing the phone face up on the nightstand and turning the light off for the last time. Hopefully. You hunkered down into the thin mattress and reached down, grasping at the thick blanket. When you pulled, there was some give. He’d let you get just enough needed to cover your body if you laid at the very edge and your hand hovered in the air when you laid your arm over the side.
Minutes flew by with your eyes shut and the exhaustion slithered over your body but your mind ran wild with the events from earlier. You tried not to get angry or sad or . . . bothered. Your breathing deepened when you began to succumb to your body’s fatigue and you drifted inch by inch into the welcoming void lulling your name.
You didn’t hear when he shifted, only managed to register the faint tracing of his fingertips on your hand before finally giving out.
You weren’t sure what time it was when you opened your eyes for the first time that night. This regularly happened. You’d wake up multiple times during the night to shift positions or throw off the sheets, no matter how insignificant the desire, your body always found a way to wake you for it.
You opened your eyes slowly to a hazy vision and blinked at the sitting figure on the floor, “Bucky?” You croaked, bringing a hand up to wipe at your face, “What time is it?”
“It’s almost one, go back to sleep,”
“What are you doing?” You persisted, ignoring his demand and sitting up slowly, “Why aren’t you sleeping?”
A heartbeat. Then another. And another. He didn’t care to elaborate.
“Do you want the bed?” You offered, stretching yourself out and already placing yourself down on the floor, “It’s too hot up there, anyway,”
His attention turned to you for the first time but you’d already began closing your eyes, not really having the energy to argue with him. You could hear shuffling from his spot and the ground disappeared below you, strong hands grasping your body and lifting you up to place you gently back onto the cot.
“I prefer the floor,” he insisted, wrapping the blanket around you, “Besides, you’re a horrendous liar,”
You didn’t hold back the singular chuckle, your haze still enveloping you. “Then why aren’t you sleeping?”
He sat at the foot of the bed, his hand hovering over your leg in hesitation, “It’s complicated.” He dropped his hand to his side.
“Isn’t the rain helping?” you mumbled, your sight now adjusting to the dark.
“I just . . . don’t want to wake you,”
“Well, I’m already awake if that makes you feel better,” you jeered, a small smile forming on your lips.
“Nothing does,” you retorted, the inevitable annoyance you always felt when conversing with him already made its way up into your tone.
He scoffed and stood from the bed, placing himself in the same spot on the floor with his head leaned up against the wall and his arm resting on his perched knee.
“Oh, so now you can’t handle a little attitude,” your tone came out incredulous, “You didn’t have any issues earlier when you blamed me for that guy’s escape. Which, he didn’t even get to do, might I add,”
“I was projecting,” he replied, gaze still focused on the door opposite to him.
You blinked, “Are you so tired that you’re actually admitting to being a dick?”
“I know I can be a dick, but you threw yourself straight into the line of fire twice today. So I don’t really give a shit if I was mean to you,”
“I only did that because you almost got shot twice today. Don’t take your anger out on me for your incompetence. Just say ‘thank you’ and move on already,”
“Incompetence?” His head jerked in your direction. “What was incompetent was that you couldn’t keep yourself composed,”
You sat up. “What in the hell are you talking about? My behavior is what got our target to basically give himself up to us! It was me that trapped him, not you!” His composure tensed and you crossed your arms over your chest, “You’re just mad your dick got hard so if anything you’re the one who couldn’t keep their compos-” His hand was wrapped around your throat and you were pinned to the mattress before you could finish your sentence.
“Shut the fuck up,” he hissed at you, his face mere inches from yours.
“Why?” You spoke hoarsely around his tightening grip, “Does the Big Bad Wolf not like that he was turned on? Who’s the prude now?”
“Turned on?” He spat, his free hand resting by your head to cage you in, “You think what you did earlier turned me on?”
You grasped at the hand around your throat and pried slightly to speak, “Fight me or fuck me, Barnes. But stop lying to yourself, it’s getting old,”
The room seemed to freeze over and Bucky paused. His hesitation was enough to elicit the fire from earlier and your legs squirmed a little underneath him. God, you hoped he chose the latter.
Then his lips crashed against yours.
You squeaked at the sudden onslaught but threw your arms around his shoulders and pulled him in tighter against you. He dropped when you intertwined your legs, his full weight pressing against you deliciously. You ground up against him, your core aching from the previous hours and the small friction elicited a moan from the both of you.
“So impatient,” he scolded, bringing the hand from around your throat down to your hips and pressing you into the bed. “What a whore,”
His breath danced along your cheek and you mewled at his words. Gods, he was going to be the death of you. Or the beginning.
You breathed in deeply, his sandalwood scent intoxicating you in a manner that alcohol never could. When you drank, you were just drunk. But when you took a sip from the tall glass that was Bucky, it brought you to life. Your body sang melodies wherever you were plastered against each other and your skin burned with need.
Touch me, your body screamed, touch me.
“Fuck off,” you groaned and Bucky jerked your head to the side, exposing your neck for him to scavenge.
The goosebumps that danced across your skin when he ran his warm tongue up from the curve of your neck to the bottom of your ear brought an arrogant smirk onto Bucky’s face. You ran your fingers through his hair and tugged when he reached a particularly sensitive spot that had your legs shaking when he kissed it sloppily.
Your mouth hung open in silent pleasure and your breaths were short and rapid, your body betraying all forms of control you previously had over yourself. The hand that wasn’t residing in his hair trailed down his muscled arm and you gripped at the brawn this man possessed. His skin reminisced lightly of silk despite the rough texture of his hands.
The same hands that now made its way into your hair and tugged at the strands at the base of your neck, jolting your chin higher into the air. Your grip tightened around his biceps and the strength they emitted sent a pool rushing to your core. You continued hunting until you found the hem of his black, cotton shirt and you made your way up his taut abdomen. You let out a sigh and he jumped lightly at the sensation of your cool fingertips across his scorching skin. It was a nice contrast for him.
You gripped at the shirt and hastily ripped the cotton upward. Bucky broke away from his descent down to your chest to let you remove the fabric and you’d suddenly wished you’d turned the lights on first. He mimicked your action and tossed your shirt in a deserted corner of the room to potentially be abandoned. You gasped when the cold air of the room grazed upon the perked mounds of your breasts.
His lips returned to their spot on the dip of your neck and his tongue slithered down in between your breasts. Your breath hitched when his wet muscle made its way up to the apex of your chest. His right hand mirrored his tongue and swirled around your nipple, his teeth pulling eagerly every so often and you hissed at the delectable pain. Your eyes devoured the scene unfolding on your chest and you reached over to flick the light on, desperate for a clearer image.
Bucky halted and his metal arm reached over to switch the light back off but you swatted his hand away and he backed up lightly, his irritation evident on his face.
“I want to watch,” you grumbled and shifted up to bring your lips back up to his. He let you. He pushed back lightly with his own lips and leaned in sync with your movements. He parted his mouth slightly and you followed suit, letting him lead his way into yours with the same muscle he’d just had flicking across your breasts.
The light went off.
You pushed him away and shot towards the switch but metal met your wrist firmly enough to keep you in place. “Bucky.” You wrestled against his hold and turned your full attention back to the figure hovering above, “I want to see you,”
Despite the darkness, you noticed his mouth twitch but his grip on your wrist remained solid. You sprawled back onto the bed and wrapped your free hand around the back of his neck and pulled him down onto you, pressing his surprisingly soft lips onto yours. You broke apart, his lips a hair’s breadth away from your own. “I want to see you,”
He didn’t move, only scanned your face over a few times and you brought him back down into a kiss. This one wasn’t like before. This one was warm, soft, patient. A ballet compared to its previous mosh pit. He danced along with you, an admission hidden somewhere in his tenderness.
You hadn’t realized you’d been freed of his hold until you were wrapping that arm over his shoulder and the sound of a light humming began.
“Fucker,” you jeered and the previous gentleness dissipated.
“Shut up,” he ordered, pinning you back onto the bed and resumed his ministration on your breasts.
The moan slipped past your lips at the sight and your chest heaved upwards, desperate for more stimulation. You licked your lips at how his mouth encased your nipple, his tongue flicking against the perked skin and you dropped your head back, shutting your eyes. You centered all of your attention anywhere that his bare skin touched your body and rubbed your aching clit against his v-line.
Your chest was pressed against the mattress before you could register what happened and the hard smack that met your ass evoked a yelp. Bucky pressed fully against your backside and he ground his dick down into your ass. He groaned at the sensation and you raised your ass onto him. You yelped again when Bucky ripped your leggings down and smacked the exposed skin on your ass.
“Try something like that again and I’ll gag you around my cock ‘til you’re crying,” he growled, “Understood?”
You nodded, wide-eyed and a mewling mess from the threatening promise of this God.
“Good girl,” he cooed, rubbing at the raw skin. “Now stay still for Daddy,”
Bucky’s hand lingered on your reddening ass and the mattress dipped when he shifted to your side. He traced gentle circles onto your backside and pressed his lips on your shoulder blade, the butterfly kisses making their way down towards your spine and then lower. Your breathing grew uneven from the sheer amount of restraint you displayed. Your grip on the edge of the bed tightened when his tongue dragged from the point where your thigh and ass met all the way up to the bottom of your spine.
“Fuck,” You shuddered, white-knuckling the blanket beneath you.
Your skin blazed when you were met with another harsh slap. You mewled at the sensation, loving the fire that spread across your flesh and relaxed when his metal hand cooled the area.
Then his teeth bit into the cooling flesh and you jerked away despite yourself. Bucky tsked lowly and you chuckled at the hint of fear sprouting in your chest; you did not want to see whatever sinister expression resided on his face.
A strong hand gripped the roots of your hair and hauled you up. You followed his direction and knelt onto the ground between Bucky’s sprawled out legs, settling in your new position.
“Oh, Doll,” he chastised, “you were so close,”
“That shouldn’t count,” you retorted while Bucky pulled the blanket off the bed and lifted you up with his metal arm, shoving the barrier between your knees and the hard ground.
“But it does.” His hands dove into his underwear and sprung his cock out onto your lips. “Now get to work,”
Your eyes widened at the sight before you and you had to physically hold back from gulping. You were ashamed to admit your mouth watered in anticipation. You lifted your hands from his sculpted thighs and wrapped them around his length, enveloping just the tip past your parted lips. Bucky sighed and twitched in your mouth.
You welcomed him in fully, or as much as you could anyway, and got straight to work, not bothering to act abashed at your desire. Your tongue swirled around his tip and you leaned into him until he hit the back of your mouth but you continued on, gagging around him when he’d gotten inside your throat. Bucky groaned when your throat tightened around him and he threw his head back, using his flesh hand to guide you up and down his shaft, showing you what he liked and didn’t.
“Fuck, Doll,” he groaned, “Just how I imagined your mouth would feel,”
You pulled off him to comment when he shoved you all the way down to the hilt and you threw your hands up onto his thighs to hold yourself back. He used his metal arm to hold himself up and thrusted up into your salivating mouth desperately. He continuously hit the back of your throat and thick saliva coated his cock. Just as he promised, tears prickled at the corners of your eyes and he didn’t stop until your cheeks were drenched in the liquid.
You let your jaw hang open, your tongue no longer swiveling around meticulous spots that you knew would make his legs buckle. No, you let him have the reigns. Let him fuck your mouth ‘til your throat grew bruised and jaw ached with fatigue. You committed his cries of pleasure to memory, the sounds euphoric to your ears.
He lifted his head and stared down at you with half-closed eyes. He was in heaven and you knew it. He watched you, how the tears trailed down, how your hands gripped at his thighs, how you stuck out your tongue just as you’d made it to the base of his cock to lick his balls in the most intoxicating way. Fuck. You were the intoxicating one. You brought out this side of him. This carnal desire that became him until he’d had to step out of the room just to compose himself. And he didn’t like being out of control. That’s why he always kept you at an arm’s distance.
But now, watching as you sat between him with your mouth agape like the good girl that you were for him, he knew he’d never deny himself this pleasure again. Especially since you were so fucking good at it.
He groaned, pulling you off his cock and grabbed tightly at your cheeks, nearly pinching your mouth together. “Tongue out.” He growled, waiting for your compliance.
Your jaw ached with exhaustion but you managed to stick out the wet muscle as he pulled you closer into him and watched when he parted his lips above you, letting the saliva trail down from his mouth into yours.
“Swallow,” he ordered.
But it was already done, and you left your mouth hanging open for more.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Bucky grumbled, putting his face right up against yours and feeding you once again; this time with a sloppy kiss that coated both your mouths in saliva.
He brought you up from the floor and tossed you onto the bed before settling between your legs. The excitement in your eyes grew and he indulged in every minute of it. Bucky’s hand trailed down from your lower abdomen right above your pubic bone and pressed his palm into your neglected clit. The cry you let out was the unholiest thing he’d ever heard.
He slid his finger under the waistband of your underwear and flitted his gaze back up to your eyes, “Can I?”
You nodded eagerly, dumbfounded that he would even ask and fought the temptation to grab your phone from the nightstand and record everything that was about to unfold.
At the first nod, Bucky slid your underwear down your legs and made a show of bringing the material up to his face. Your own went red hot and you hid behind your hands, poking through every millisecond to shamefully watch. He threw the panties into his open duffel and you squirmed in anticipation.
“Remember the rules?” Bucky asked, brow lifted and already descending to your inner thigh.
You nodded again.
“I need to hear it, Doll,” he mumbled, kissing the inner part of your thigh, each placement closer and closer to where you needed him most.
“Yes,” you whimpered out, “I remember the rules,”
Bucky wanted to dive right in, he really did, but the way you sprawled yourself out so vulnerable for him, it incited a new pace that he wanted to follow. So, he did. He looked at you for a few moments, watched how the anticipation danced in your eyes, how your legs shook in wait and how you were already so goddamn wet for him.
“This all for me?” he teased, mesmerized at your desire for him.
You dropped a hand down to your side, near where his hands were wrapped around your thighs to keep you in place - and against his face. He cocked his head to the side, waiting for your answer.
You nodded sheepishly and when he lifted an eyebrow in mock confusion you said, “You. Just you,”
Like music to his ears. Just him. You weren’t for anyone else. He thought he felt his heart palpitate.
He lowered himself down to your core and kissed your lip, drawing a desperate plea from you. You couldn’t wait anymore, couldn’t deal with the teasing. You were wet enough, needy enough, ready enough to take him, all of him. You’d been ready damn near the moment you first laid eyes on his arrogant smirk.
“Buck - please,” you cried, drawling out the final word.
The first kiss placed upon your soaked cunt erupted a sigh of relief and you laid back on the pillow, your eyes closed and mind gone with the sensation of those sloppy kisses blessing your needs. He flattened his tongue on your lips and licked upwards, stopping when your hips twitched into his mouth.
“Sorry!” You apologized, fighting the desire to grind into his wet muscle. He’d just gotten started and you certainly didn’t want it to end so soon.
He lifted his gaze up to you and you bit into your fist at the view, using the extremity to hold back your moans. He flicked his attention down again and repeated his motion, lapping at your fluids ‘til his beard was soaked in it. He shook his head into your cunt and his nose rubbed along your clit. The mewling that left your mouth urged him on and when you felt his muscle prodding at your entrance you threw your head back.
“Please, Bucky.” You begged, bringing a hand up to tease your nipple.
He prodded some more, his tongue gliding up from your clit and back down to your entrance, poking through enough to frustrate you. He wanted you to break for him. To lose all composure and control and just let him. He wanted you to submit to him but it wasn’t just that, it was more that he wanted to destroy you for any future experience you may have without him. He wanted you to come back to him, to need him, to beg for him and leave you with the understanding that nothing - no one - could compare to him. He wanted you. To himself.
So, when he could no longer refrain and had to use his metal arm to hold your hips down from squirming beneath him, he slipped two thick, rough fingers into your begging cunt. And the sound you emitted caused that carnal instinct to claw at the barriers caging it in.
Your hand shot down, tangling itself into his hair and pushing him harder against you. He allowed it. Your thighs held him in place, crushing him with your soft skin and he groaned at the warmth you gave off. You pulled your hand away from your mouth and grabbed at his metal one resting on your pubic bone, pulling it up to your chest and wrapping his fingers on the sensitive bud for him to tease. He slowly retracted from your chest and brought it back down onto your hips and you huffed in annoyance. You looked down at Bucky but his eyes were shut, completely engrossed in the feast before him. You bucked when his fingers glazed across that sensitive spot inside your velvety walls.
“There!” You cried, your fist tightening in his hair when the all-too-familiar wave of ecstasy began to pool together, waiting for its release.
Bucky complied, dragging the pads of his fingers up against that spot over and over again. Your legs caged him in tighter as his tongue swirled over the hyper-sensitive bundle of nerves and you cried out at the way your body tensed.
“Fuck,” you cried, your hands desperately grasping onto Bucky’s metal wrist and tugging at the roots of his hair. Bucky’s groan of pleasure was what tipped you over the edge.
You gasped when the pool building released, your body shaking with euphoria and the flood crashed down onto you. And apparently, onto Bucky as well. He pulled his mouth away but continued rubbing at your clit when warm liquid squirted onto his face and his expression of surprise mirrored your own.
When Bucky looked up at you, your face burned with embarrassment and you threw your head back, using your hand to cover your countenance. Not to mention the sight of him with your juices all over his mouth was one of the hottest things you’d ever witnessed.
Bucky chuckled at your sheepish apology and removed your hand from your face, bringing his soaked mouth up to yours and having you taste yourself. You devoured each other, your arms wrapped tightly around the other, pulling so fiercely at the innate desire to become one in shared pleasure. He could feel his pride swell at your hidden confession. You’d never squirted before and he was lucky enough to be the one to give you that experience for the first time.
You clawed at him, divulging in the warmth his body radiated and intoxicating yourself in everything that was Bucky. You couldn’t get enough of it, of him. It was nearly too much.
His hand trailed up to your gaping mouth and he inserted his fingers, “Clean them,” he ordered.
Your hand gripped his wrist and pulled his fingers deeper into your mouth, never breaking eye contact with him, loving the way he ate up everything he was seeing. You noticed the way he swallowed.
He retracted his hand and wrapped it gently behind your head so you were resting on him. He brought his full weight down onto your body and a warmth emanated in your chest when he brought his lips up against your forehead, each kiss closer and closer to your lips until they met their destination. When you parted your mouth against his, it wasn’t merely an action of carnal desire, it was like you were exchanging life forces. Merging and meeting in a manner that had your body exploding and crying out for more of the faint familiarity. Like seeing an old friend for the first time in years.
Bucky looked down between your bodies at where you were about to connect before staring back up at you, taking you in as if he would never have this opportunity again. His thumb brushed your cheek and came to a rest on your bottom lip. “Ready?”
You chuckled, “Fuck me,”
He shoved inside in one clean motion and a breath of pleasure slid past both of your lips.
“Fuck,” he groaned, his hand tightening slightly around your neck and he pulled out slowly then shot back inside and you moaned.
You were still so sensitive from your previous climax that every brush against your clit sent you into a whirlwind of pleasure, the sensations shooting through every nerve in your body.
“Bucky,” you whined when his pace quickened and the sheer force of his thrusts drove you deeper into euphoria.
He filled you just right, his girth and length impressive and you wondered why you hadn’t tried to screw him earlier. He slid past your tight walls, each thrust causing the room to echo with the sounds of skin slapping and moans of ecstasy.
He kept his actions controlled, not wanting to build up to something so intense just for it to fall short and end fast. No. Despite how good you felt wrapped around his aching and swollen cock, despite how warm and welcoming you were, how you spread yourself out for him to consume, he had to leash himself. This was going to be just as good for you as it was for him.
He kissed you one last time before gripping the back of your knees and bringing your thighs up to your chest, a shout of praise falling off your lips. He was drunk on the sight of his cock going in and out of your cunt and he threw his head back with a groan.
“What a fucking pretty pussy,” he breathed out and you whimpered, biting your lip at the welcome profanities.
At this angle, he was fucking against your g-spot and using his pubic bone to rub against your clit and watching the thin layer of sweat sheen off his skin was all too much to keep yourself put together. His eyebrows scrunched together and you caught him taking in your form, watching how your pleasure displayed itself on your face for him to bear witness to. Only him.
He growled at the intrusion of thoughts that came to him. He pictured someone else in his position, someone else witnessing you so vulnerable and open to them, someone else fucking you and making you beg for them. It disgusted him. He brought his torso down and latched his teeth to your neck, biting down hard enough to have you tearing up.
“Mine,” he growled into your ear and lulled his head forward when you tightened around him.
A sinister smirk came to his face and he licked the shell of your ear, your breathy moans feeding him, “You like that?” He asked, pistoling further into your cunt and you shouted at the increase of pace, “You like when I tell you who you belong to?”
Your mouth hung agape and the one arm wrapped around his shoulder pulled him closer to you, your desperation for his warmth taking control. “Fuck . . . off,” you hissed between breaths.
He pulled out and yanked you up by your hair, twisting you around and pressing your torso into the wall but keeping your ass propped up for him to admire. You hissed at the pain when a sharp smack met your ass and your hands gripped at the wall for any way to ground yourself and prevent from becoming putty in his hands.
Another hard smack met your ass and you lurched forward to get away from the sting. Bucky kept your head pinned to the cement, his hand holding your cheek from scraping the wall but applying a pressure that had your tongue lolling out of your mouth.
You moaned at the intrusion in your pussy and he plummeted in and out, a mix of your grunts and groans bouncing around the room. His pace constantly changed. One second it was fast, the next it was slow but filling, going so far as to hit your cervix a few times and leave you a crying mess under his hold. Your shoulder scraped along the wall and you fought to push away only to have your chest slammed harder against the cement.
You brought a hand out, reaching behind yourself and grasping for Bucky’s hip, pushing him deeper into you when he slowed. Your nails dug into his flesh and the sound of his hiss shot straight to your core.
“What a goddamn whore,” he spat, bringing his teeth down onto your neck and you gripped at his hair.
You laughed at his statement, “You’re the one that can’t get enough of this pussy. Why so desperate to claim it? Afraid I'll fuck someone else?” Bucky pulled you back and slammed you against the wall with vigor, causing you to flinch
He stopped his thrusts altogether, “My patience only goes so far, Doll,” he threatened, tugging at your hair and you bit back a cry, “Choose your words wisely,”
You nodded hastily, the rough texture of the wall digging into your cheek and splitting skin. You wriggled up against him to continue moving but he retracted completely and flipped you over so he was laying on the bed and you were straddling him.
“Move,” he ordered, his hands digging bruises into your waist.
You leaned over, pressing your chest against his to lift your hips up and down on him but he pushed you back up and held your arms behind your back to keep you in place. You whimpered but the cry quieted when you rubbed your clit against him and your pussy clenched at the friction. You moaned out a breathy fuck and swiveled your hips around his, noting how much deeper he filled you in this position.
“Buck-” you huffed, eyes glued to the glistening abs beneath you. “I’m gonna cum,”
“Already?” He jeered, an eyebrow raised in amusement.
You’d lost all energy to sneer at him, your focus solely on how the sensation grew and began pooling in your cunt. “Cock . . . so good,” you breathed out, barely able to keep yourself from melting into him.
“What was that, Doll?” He stilled your movements and you groaned in annoyance.
You wriggled in his hold and you could tell by the furrow of his brow that he was fighting to keep control as well. You leaned over him, your lips hovering over his, “Mine,”
His grip flew to the back of your neck and he crashed your lips onto his, giving you full reign again. You bounced your hips on his dick, slamming down vigorously and rubbing your clit in effect. It didn’t take long for your climax to build again.
“’M gonna . . .” you whispered and Bucky placed you back up, gripping your hips and swiveling you around how you were earlier.
“Cum, Doll,” he allowed, “Cum all over this cock,”
You cried out, your toes curling as the dam in your core snapped and your climax washed over you. You hadn’t realized your fingers were intertwined with Bucky's until you came back down from your high, your chest heaving for breath.
He sat up slowly and pressed his lips against your neck. “You’re beautiful,”
Your body tensed at his words and you pulled away to give him a look of confusion. But he didn’t take his statement back, only slipped his hands around your back and gently placed you onto the bed, hovering over you.
He moved with caution, like his gentleness might scare you off if he touched you too tenderly or stared too long in admiration. But he couldn’t help it, he did admire you.
He spread your legs open and nestled between them, pushing into you slowly until your hips met and you both breathed out. His movements weren’t nearly as brutal as they were earlier, these thrusts were slow and deep and full of intention. He brought his torso down onto yours and you wrapped your legs around his waist, bringing him closer to you.
He ran his hand, the only one he allowed himself to touch you affectionately with, through your hair and stared down at you, waiting. His gaze shifted between your lips to your eyes and he ran his thumb delicately along your mouth.
You looked at him then, really looked at him with fresh eyes and your heart leapt into your throat at the realization. “Kiss me,” you whispered and he lowered himself onto your lips, setting off an explosion in your chest.
“I’m yours,” he whispered, not able to bring himself to look at you, “I’ve been yours,”
You opened your mouth to respond but he silenced you with a deep thrust and a moan erupted instead. He quickened his pace, watching where you connected and pushed deeper and harder, your cries of pleasure driving him. He had to fuck you, he couldn’t love you, he couldn’t make love to you, just fuck. That’s it. He couldn’t allow himself to replay your look of shock at his confession, though the scene would surely be on loop for the next few days until he could get over it. Just fuck. Nothing more. Not with that look of disbelief on your face.
He held himself up with his forearms but you pressed him against you and wrapped your legs tighter around him. “Harder,” you whispered and he complied.
He groaned when your tits bounced and brought his mouth to a nipple, the faint taste of sweat lingering on your skin. You brought his metal hand up to your chest and made him grip the flesh there but he pulled it back and placed it beside your head instead.
“Bucky,” you whimpered and grabbed his hand again, bringing his open palm up to your lips and placing delicate kisses on the metal. “You can feel with it, right?”
He nodded, hesitance sprawled on his face.
“Then touch me,” you urged, bringing the hand down between your bodies and pressing the cold metal against your clit, “Feel me,”
His brows furrowed slightly but the look of your certainty forced him to dismiss his own perceptions of his body; or rather, that arm. And when he began rubbing circles into your bundle of nerves the expression on your face made him hate it a little less. Only a little.
You stared up at him, his pace growing erratic and sloppy and you knew he was close. “You wanna cum?”
He nodded, his hot breath coming out haggard and strained. You placed your hand on his cheek and brought him up to your kiss.
He shook his head, “You first,” he swirled his finger around your swollen clit and you gasped at the force of his thrust.
Your body tensed and you centered all your focus on his ministrations, “A little more pressure,” you directed and he quickly found a pressure that had you wobbling in the knees. “Close,” you murmured, gripping Bucky’s side and bringing your lips up to his neck to pepper the skin there.
He groaned and judging by the way his dick twitched inside you, you knew he wasn’t far behind.
“Bucky,” you whispered, pulling his attention towards you and his gaze brought you closer to the edge, “I’m yours,”
He blinked and his pace faltered for half a beat. He examined your facial expression, like he didn’t believe the words you’d spoken. Not like he couldn’t believe them, but like you’d said them just to appease him.
You placed your forehead against his, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath to center yourself in the haze of this fucking. “Yours,” you repeated, all the emotion residing in your chest poured into the singular word.
And then he was back to drilling you into the mattress, a new vigor fueling his thrusts. You cried out and Bucky pressed his sweaty torso flat against your own and it felt like the essence, the being, in your chest intermingled with his own and all the climaxes you’d previously experienced couldn’t hold a match to the flame, the intensity, the rawness of the one that washed over the both of you in that moment.
Bucky moaned out, his hips bucking into yours and you rode out both of your highs. The sensation consuming and overwhelming and welcome on both ends as it flooded through your bodies, meeting at your point of contact.
His arms flexed above you with the ferocity of his climax and the display had you writhing beneath him, already desperate for more.
“Buck,” you whispered when his breathing evened out after he collapsed onto you.
He didn’t respond, afraid it had all been a dream, a trick, despite still being inside you. He didn’t want to move, didn’t want to shatter the perfection of this moment. What if you’d only said that to get him to finish faster? What if you’d only fed him what he wanted to hear? What if-
“Buck,” you repeated, pulling him from his daze and he lifted his head only slightly. You gripped his chin lightly and forced him to look you in the eye. “You’re . . . mine?”
He wanted to shake his head, to tell you that he got caught up in the moment but instead he said, “Yours,” because he knew anything else would be a lie and he was tired of lying.
You studied him and nodded, “Yours,” you stated, already rolling your eyes from the smirk forming on his face, “Unfortunately,”
He brought your face to his and planted a tender kiss on your lips. He started shifting his position and grabbed the underwear he’d been wearing earlier before pulling out and using the cloth to clean the mess pooling out of you. But not before taking a mental picture, of course.
After a few minutes of laying together, his hand playing with a few strands of hair, you felt the warm welcome of sleep beginning to drag you into its embrace. You opened your eyes groggily and looked up at Bucky who was already looking down at you, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
“I know about your night terrors,” you whispered and his actions halted momentarily before returning to brush through your hair, “I hear you sometimes. And I understand why you don’t want to go to sleep but,” you sat up slowly and placed the thick blanket down on the floor, dragging the pillow down with you and patting the open space beside you, “you should rest. I’ll be here to calm you or stay up with you. Whichever one you need,”
He didn’t move at first, his ears drowning out any thought he could have while processing what you’d said. He’d stayed silent so long you’d thought you’d crossed a line.
“I can always sleep on the bed if you’d prefer, though,”
Bucky shook himself from his thoughts and edged closer to the floor, slowly descending into the available space and wrapping the blanket around the both of you as much as he could. “No,” he said, “I want you here,”
You hummed in response and snuggled into his waiting arms, lightly wrapping your own around him, making sure to kiss the part of himself he hated the most before fatigue swept you up into its clutches. Bucky followed soon after.
3K notes · View notes
You: I bet you i can stick 15 marshmallows in my mouth
Lady Demitriscu: You are a hazard to society
Heisenberg: And a coward! Do twenty!
3K notes · View notes
bad romance | jjk | m
[ ! ] this is part of the bad influence collection. This part cannot be read as a stand-alone.
— summary; in which the two of you finally make it official.
— contents and warnings; gross fluff, a bit of angst, smut, badboy!jungkook x goodgirl!reader, enemies to lovers, honestly emotionally constipated idiots to lovers, so much mutual pining, cinematic parallels, cute dates, a spark of jealousy/possiveness (mostly playful), the return of car sex, dirty talk, breast play, dom!jk x sub!reader, fingering, spitting, oral (female receiving), cum eating, semi-clothed sex, unprotected sex (don’t be dumb!!), a fuckton of praise kink bc jk is going through it, another glimpse into the demon that lives inside the oc lol, begging, mentions of marking (hickeys), creampie, cockwarming (you already know), jk is whipped and he’s not even hiding it anymore, it’s official ladies!!!
— words; 18,4k
— author’s notes; here we are, champs!!! The moments of glory 😭 There are a lot of things being wrapped up in here so we can move onto the more interesting stuff, but there are also some points that will be brought up further down the line, so don’t worry! Everything will be explored in its rightful moment. Have fun at the eye of the hurricane y’all 🤠
There are some things we experience throughout life that, as simple as they may seem at first glance, stick with us forever, like bubblegum on the bottom of a shoe. As a young kid, you were first introduced to optical illusions after spending the day at your friend’s house — and, even after so many years, you still recalled your amazement and confusion; your expectant yelps and annoyed glances at his computer screen. Considering your age, it was normal to be bewildered at the notion that your senses and perceptions, which once seemed so concrete, could fool you just as easily as anything else.
Mayhaps you were a few thousand years late in your genius discovery, taking into account that ancient philosophers had already discussed and established all that; perhaps your young brain wasn’t all that smart to construct those notions with such complexity. But the point wasn’t that: it was that the world in front of you was a matter of perspective, of finding the truth behind the curtain of your own interpretation. Sometimes you thought that two lines were the same size when they were not; that dots seemed to be moving when they were still; that two completely different shades of grey were actually the same all along. And you had to adapt to that.
Life went on and, in a way, you always kept that in the back of your head — not about bright-colored illusions on a computer screen, of course, but about people. No matter how much you think you know someone, you never know their full truth (after all, most people barely know themselves, so perhaps it’s a bit too conceited to believe that you know another individual). It’s nothing new to claim that people can surprise you, either positively or negatively and, in your head, trying to predict that was the smallest resemblance of control you could achieve. So you learned to read them as well as you could and never ever created expectations. To you, trust issues were a tiny price to pay for staying one step ahead from a heartbreak.
That being said, even the best of strategists still make mistakes — apparently no one ever learned not to invade Russia during the winter — and even the strongest walls can still show cracks in its foundation. Ironically, you had predicted it all, followed your life to the most minimal details, but could not avoid the large, powerful wave that hit your fortress head-first, knocking most of your preconceived notions down the moment you found someone that you couldn’t read.
In a way, Jungkook was the most confusing optical illusion that you had ever come across.
The thrilling and unforeseen ups and downs of your situationship with Jungkook were often hard to follow, but you still tried your best to do so. From the start he was inconsistent — hot and cold, harsh and tender; always left you seeking for more at the same time you tried to push him away. Every time you’d attempt to read him, imagine the thoughts that unfolded behind his dark eyes, you’d fall flat on your face. Every time you thought you were starting to understand him, he’d hit you with a curveball that would throw you in a loop. It was strange how you thought that you knew him so well, probably better than most people, and yet not well at all.
In usual unpredictable fashion, Jungkook had called you earlier that day, right after you had just finished washing the dishes, with a proposal you never saw coming. It was a peaceful, chilly morning and, besides the sharp sound of your phone ringing, only the faint chirping of birds could be heard coming from the half-open window. Yongsun was sitting on the couch, her focus swimming in the ink of her newest thriller novel, and she didn’t notice the way your eyes widened when you picked up the phone and heard what he had to say.
“Morning, princess,” Jungkook greeted, jumping straight to the point. “Are you free? Wanna go out with you.”
“Today?” You asked, leaning your lower back against the cool counter. His choice of words was peculiar: go out. He had never used that before or, at least, not with such a casual tone.
“Yeah,” he agreed promptly. “If you have plans we can try another day. But it’s sunny and I didn’t wanna miss my shot.”
You cleared your throat, glimpsing out the window as if to check that it was, in fact, sunny. Your brain was out of excuses and the silence coming from the other side of the line was too loud, so you had no choice but to give in to the wills of your heart. “Hm. Yeah, sure,” you told him. “We can go out today.”
“Great,” Jungkook beamed. “I’ll pick you up at one, baby. See you.”
And that was it. Before you could think about asking more details about his plans, the line was cut and you were left staring at your phone screen like an absolute idiot, trying to digest what just had happened. Go out. What a weird thing to say. It sounded like a date.
Yongsun perked her head up like a meerkat, turning around on the couch so she could get a better look at you. “So…” she started, a smile already curling up on her lips. Her book was practically forgotten now, laying beside her, the page that she had been reading now flimsily marked by one of her perfectly manicured fingers. “I’m guessing you have plans.”
“I might have,” you responded nonchalantly, locking your phone and placing it on the counter. When was the last time Jungkook asked you out? Even when he took you out for lunch or something, the request was always laced with second intentions. That sounded so odd. “Why?”
She shrugged. Yongsun had been particularly interested in your romantic affairs ever since that night at Hoseok’s party, teasing you at every chance she got. She was curious, that much you knew, but you guessed that she was also a bit worried about all those secrets. Regardless, if that was the case, her cheerful tone did not let it show. “Oh, nothing, I just think it’s cute that you’re going out with the mystery man.” She wiggled her eyebrows. “Has he asked for your hand in marriage yet?”
You rolled your eyes. “It’s not like that,” you guaranteed.
“Keep lying to yourself, girl,” she sang, waving her hand in a sign of dismissal. Yongsun had a strong tendency to romanticize things, and you were the opposite: one of your biggest flaws was that you over-rationalized things, found excuses and justifications where there were none. At that moment, both things were taking place, and her voice was like a demon whispering inside your head, making you consider her perspective. “Is he coming to pick you up?” Her smile only grew as you nodded. “Fantastic.”
Like she had found what she had been searching for, Yongsun plopped back on the couch and returned to her book. Unbeknownst to her, you knew exactly what she was inferring — your gaze already navigating towards the large window across from you, and the open view it gave to the street below your apartment complex. If she wanted to, she could figure out who it was just by looking down and catching a glimpse of him.
Strangely enough, the idea didn’t bother you as much as it once had.
Part of you believed that, when Yongsun went to her spiritual retreat/cult, she ended up being cursed with a hundred years of bad luck. Besides being ten times more clumsy than usual, she was having more difficulty in class and almost every single time she tried to shower, the hot water would run out halfway through. That morning, she also was unlucky enough to be knocked out on the couch (courtesy of her post-lunch sleepiness) at the exact moment that Jungkook picked you up, missing one of her two chances of catching a glimpse of him.
About one hour and a half later, her messages arrived in a furious and merciless wave, so constant that you had to silence your phone, turning the screen around and against your thigh so her flood of complaints and curses wouldn’t distract you from the beautiful scenery that blossomed all around the car. At the annoying rush of dinging sounds, however, Jungkook glimpsed at you, eyebrows furrowed. “What’s that about?” He asked, the previous subject long forgotten.
You shook your head, gazing out of the window. The tall trees passed in a dazzling blur, expanding as far as your eyes could see. “Nothing much,” you told him, voice mingling with the vague tune playing in his car, and the tender gushing of the fresh wind. “Yongsun is having a bad day, that’s all.”
“Don’t you wanna see if she’s, like, about to die or something?”
You breathed out, thinking for a moment. “Hmm… not really. She’ll be fine.”
Jungkook laughed. “What a terrible friend you are.”
You leaned your head on your palm, elbow supported on the car door, staring him up and down. “Why do you care?”
“I don’t,” he admitted, “I just thought it could be funny to see her losing her mind.”
“Yongsun rarely loses her mind,” you counter-argumented. That was more of a Jisoo thing, honestly. You were about to say that when a little demon landed on your shoulder, reaching forward and whispering an evil idea to you. Usually it was Jungkook that wanted to stir up some shit when things were too calm between you two, but, that day, you felt like switching the roles in the name of karma. “But if you’re so curious about my messages… you know who texted me earlier today?”
He glanced at you, curious. “Who?”
It was getting hard not to smile. “Jimin,” you said, noticing how his hands tightened around the wheel for a millisecond. If you weren’t looking for it, you would’ve never noticed it. “He asked me out on a date.”
Okay, half truth: it wasn’t that same day, it was two days before. But it was much more dramatic to put it that way.
“And?” Jungkook pressed on.
You couldn’t hold it anymore, laughing at his serious expression. “And I’m telling you that because I knew you’d be fuming, you dumbass.” You pushed his shoulder playfully. “You know I don’t like him like that.”
“Ha.” He said, flat. “I’m not fuming.”
“Aw come on.” You smiled. You were staring at him now, following the kaleidoscopic bursts of sunlight on his face as he focused on the road before him. The sun dripped amongst the leaves, mingling with the shadows of his features and dancing in his long black hair as it swirled in the faint breeze. Jungkook had mentioned he was thinking about dyeing it, but you liked the way it looked now. You’d like it anyway. “Don’t clench your jaw, that’s bad for your teeth,” you teased, tapping on his chin. “Told him I’m not interested, though. I had said that before, but I guess he was trying again.” You breathed out. “So I said that I was already seeing someone else. That worked.”
That comment managed to relax him straight away. “You just wanted to see me jealous? What for?”
“Payback,” you claimed, triumphant. “Though that is kind of toxic behavior so it ends here. I just needed it for karmic balance.”
“The fuck?” he asked. “Payback for what?”
You pouted. “Oh, you’re so innocent, aren’t you?” you teased him, doing the unspeakable and reaching out to pinch his cheek. Jungkook slapped your hand away before you managed to do that, but you still counted his annoyance as a victory. “I can see the halo over your head and everything… the birds are chirping… the purest soul around.”
Jungkook groaned, pushing his body back against the driver’s seat. “Shut up, my god,” he complained. One of his hands left the wheel and landed on the inside of your thigh; the warmness of his skin shooting fireworks inside your chest. “I asked you a question.”
With a playful hum hanging on the tip of your tongue, you turned around, one arm leaning on the center console. “Wait, you thought I wouldn’t notice you trying to make me jealous that one day in the library?” You asked, watching as the hamster inside Jungkook’s head started running on its wheel, trying to find the memory he was looking for. “The one that Jisoo asked you two to shut up.”
His eyebrows shot up at the realization. “Ah. Yeah. That was funny.” He laughed, glimpsing at you. That road seemed to be endless, with only Jungkook’s car in it. You didn’t remember when was the last time you saw someone else around, but it was a rather peaceful moment. Just the two of you against the world. “Didn’t know it had worked.”
“I never said that.”
“It wouldn’t be a payback if it hadn’t.” He smirked, cocky, squeezing your inner thigh. Touché. “She was my lab partner. That’s it. I don't even remember her name.”
You made a tisk sound. “And you were leading her on… how cruel.”
Jungkook raised his hand from your thigh, pointing a finger at you. “It wasn’t like that, I’m naturally flirty.”
“No, you’re naturally irritating,” you corrected, grabbing his hand and putting it back in place. He squeezed your flesh once again, humming at your words. “Shameless, also. Nasty most of the time—”
He scoffed. “You flatter me, princess.”
“—But not flirty,” you completed.
“Come on, baby, I’m totally flirty,” he wouldn’t relent so easily, especially when his ego was dangerously close to getting bruised. “I flirted with you.”
You crossed your arms, looking him up and down. “You called me names and fucked me in a church.”
“Right? And you don’t call that being flirty? It clearly worked,” Jungkook threw back, not an ounce of self-awareness in his arrogant tone. “Also, don’t mention the church thing as if you didn’t beg me to do it.”
“Not the point.”
“Exactly the point,” he pressed on, stealing a glance at your irritated expression. It wasn’t for real, of course — most times when you two argued now, it was more of a playful thing than a serious back and forth. Jungkook couldn’t pinpoint when that change had occurred, but it was nice. “You’re equally irritating, shameless, and nasty. Sometimes more than me. You just confuse people about it.”
“I’m not!” you said, knowing very well that you were lying.
Jungkook sneered at your words. “Yeah, sure. If that helps you feel better, I can roleplay.” He paused. “Actually, I can do that in different contexts too.”
You poked his cheek, completely ignoring his last comment. It wasn’t the time to unpack that. “You got jealous though,” you teased.
He frowned. “Change the subject now.”
Considering you had already gotten your desired reaction, you decided to give him a (temporary) break. “Fine.” You sighed, sitting back. The breeze coming from outside was a gentle caress on your face, bringing the faint smell of flowers. “So… where are we going, exactly?”
“It’s, like, the fifth time you’re asking,” Jungkook groaned.
“And you still haven’t answered,” you said. “I’ll keep asking unless you do, you know that.”
He breathed out, finally cracking. Jungkook looked at his watch, realizing that the two of you would reach your destination rather soon, anyways, so he could stop with the suspense for now. “I wanna take you on a proper date. I’m tired of sneaking around.” He cleared his throat, eyes glued to the road. He suddenly felt very nervous. “It’s like… four cities away from campus, near the beach. No one you know will see us, probably. Is that alright?”
Out of the possible reactions he has conjured in his head, he didn’t expect you to burst out laughing. “I love that you ask me that when we’re already two hours deep into this road trip,” you teased. “But yeah. Sounds great, actually. I can’t believe you have good ideas every once in a while.”
Jungkook frowned. “You’re really asking for me to turn this car around, aren’t you?”
“Not at all,” you beamed. “You’re trapped with me for the rest of the day now.”
Once upon a time, that would sound like a nightmare to you — months back, when the two of you barely talked, and you prayed that he would text you a sleazy excuse and not show up to any future tutoring sessions. Months back, when you were still in denial that there was a person underneath all that trouble, all those sly smirks and witty, bitter remarks.
Weeks back when you still pretended you weren’t in love with him.
Ever since you (finally) accepted the fact that you had zero control over your emotions towards Jungkook, things had become both easier and harder to deal with. It was easy being with him — just playing with his hair and listening to him talk; kissing him; driving and talking about nothing. But it was a war inside your head: now every shared laughter hurt a bit more, every touch left you a little on edge. The falling-for-the-bad-boy fiasco was embarrassing in itself, but falling for someone who didn’t feel the same would be absolutely dreadful. Especially now that you couldn’t remember how your life was before he had showed up and turned it upside down.
As if he was reading your mind, Jungkook responded, “That doesn’t sound so bad at all, princess.”
Jungkook parked his car near a very beautiful square, which was a sharp difference considering the places the two of you used to frequent — or, rather, hide in. In your mind, it was surreal that you were actually on a date with the boy, being shamelessly out-there about a scenario that once terrified you so deeply. Honestly, the chances that you’d run into someone you knew (several cities away from campus, with summer break just around the corner and finals piling up) were slim, but not zero.
However, you couldn’t care about it when Jungkook opened your door and took your hand in his. “You know what’s fucking insane?” He asked abruptly, pressing you against the side of the vehicle. His palm was warm against yours, just like the world around you. You never really liked summer that much, but you were starting to change your mind. “We’ve done so much, but we never just walked around holding hands.”
You chuckled — putting it like that, yeah, the two of you were doing everything backwards. “Guess we never had the chance,” you said. “But there’s a first time for everything.”
He breathed out, leaning in to place a kiss on your lips. You once thought that doing that in public would be horrendous, but now, all you could feel were the butterflies in your stomach. “Hopefully,” he said. “Now, let’s go. I wanna show you around.”
Just like all-things-Jungkook, he still managed to surprise you after so long. Even with his tough exterior and cold stares, he ended up being a big advocate for public displays of affection. Jungkook could not let go of you even if his life depended on it, it seemed — always touching you in some way, playing with your fingers; or with his arm around your shoulders; a gentle kiss against your temple as you walked down the streets. If you stopped and thought about it, traveling through the land of memories, you could see some stark signs that his love language might be leaning more towards physical touch. You just thought it was something he did during intimate moments, and not all the time.
Frankly, you weren’t complaining, but you were taking some time to get used to it. During your previous relationship — a five-months-long catastrophe in your final year of high school — you realized that you weren’t super keen on being all touchy-feely, which was the spark for a few immature arguments back in the day. Years passed and you were more open when it came to Jungkook now, but there was still something that held you back a little, that didn’t let you relax all the way when he pulled you into a random hug, or stopped in the middle of his sentence so he could steal a kiss from your lips.
Also like all-things-Jungkook, you guessed it was just a matter of time before you got used to it.
About two hours after you two had arrived at that city, you managed to drag Jungkook towards a big, absurdly old-looking bookstore, ignoring his complaints as your eyes darted over the books in its interior.
“It looks so cool, don’t you think?” You asked, finding his reflection on the glass. It was a funny contrast between the two of you — the pastel tones of your blouse and skirt battling against the dark shades of his pants, his boots, his tattoos. It just wasn’t worse because Jungkook had miraculously chosen a white shirt that day, otherwise you’d think that the two of you were from completely different worlds. “I bet they have some super old stuff.”
Jungkook sighed. “You wanna go in, don’t you?” He asked, traces of annoyance at the back of his tone.
“I might,” you said, turning your head to look at him. Lucky you (and unlucky Jungkook), you already had your puppy eyes locked and loaded. “Will you hate me?”
He sighed heavily, his bored stare flickering between your face and the dust accumulating inside the store. You didn’t even know the sacrifices he made for you. “Impossible,” Jungkook responded, “go before I change my mind.”
You smooched his cheek. “Thank you!”
Okay, maybe you were getting used to those public displays of affection already.
The place smelled musty, as expected, and there was a thick layer of dust floating in the air; an allergy ready to strike. Against what it’s great exterior showed, the inside of the store was actually really small and packed with books, with you and Jungkook almost knocking a few piles over every time you turned a corner — nothing but another optical illusion to add to your list.
Surprisingly enough, Jungkook didn’t complain as much as you had expected — instead limiting himself to a few grunts and scoffs as he looked through the endless lines of old, decaying books. Most of the time he kept it to himself, always maintaining you in his peripheral vision as you jumped from one story to the other.
At some point, his arms wrapped around you, chest flushed against your back as he placed his head on your shoulder, looking down at the book in your hands. Jungkook smelled of coffee and cigarettes, his warmth was all that you could feel. “That looks old and boring,” he complained, nuzzling his nose against your neck. You hoped he didn’t feel the goosebumps spreading through your skin. “Want me to get it for you?”
“No, I was just looking,” you told him, leaning back against his chest automatically. “I already have this book back at home, it’s really nice. I just never saw the first edition before. I don’t need another one.”
Jungkook hummed, one hand reaching to turn it around so he could look at the cover — Clockwork Orange. He had heard that name before somewhere, probably another literature quiz he copied the answers for in high school. “You sure? Because it’s the third time you’re picking it up,” he said. You sighed, probably conjuring an excuse inside your mind, but he knew you better than that. He didn’t let you finish, tugging it away from your hands. “I’m getting it for you. And don’t whine about it.”
You opened your mouth to argue, but you realized you were going to whine about it. In the end, Jungkook bought you that book, which earned him both another kiss on the cheek and a very annoyed look from you. He couldn’t understand you sometimes.
“I think you’d like it, actually. It’ll fuel your anarchist spirit,” you told him when the two of you were already back on the sidewalks, your wandering eyes peeking at the bag in your hands. “Give it a shot one of these days.”
Jungkook scoffed. “I don’t remember when was the last time I read for fun.” He paused. “Or ever.”
“Doesn’t mean you can’t start doing it now. Summer is long, you’ll get bored eventually,” you counter-argumented, but he didn’t seem like he was going to crack. You pouted, pressing your shoulder against his. “Please? For me?”
Now, that was kind of a low hit. But it worked. “You’re pushing my limits here, princess,” he warned.
But you weren’t relenting. “Please? It’s not even that long anyways.”
Jungkook didn’t know what it was, but he was especially pliant when it came to your requests that day (lie: he knew exactly why). “Fine,” he groaned. “But I’ll complain the entire time.”
You smiled. “Deal.”
After walking around the town some more, the two of you eventually settled in a small diner near the beachside. The place was adorable, in typical 50’s style, and you two were one of the few people there — saved for three loud-speaking old men, and an overly-energetic family of five. Jungkook knew you liked to sit by the window, so he found the perfect spot in no time, which you appreciated endlessly.
Subjects came and went, your food gradually vanished from your plates and, before you could tell, the day was showing signs of ending. Golden hour had arrived, bleeding past the widows and onto the diner’s floor; the buzzing of the town seemed to diminish considerably before rush hour.
At some point, though, you noticed that Jungkook got distracted, his stare faltering and his mouth falling shut, lips pressed against one another. He was pushing his tongue against the inside of his cheek as he always did when he was trapped deep inside his mind. You reached out, placing your hands over his. “Jungkook,” you called, squeezing his fingers. He blinked his way back into reality, meeting your eyes straight away. With the bright sun coming from the dusty window, his irises had decayed into a clearer shade of brown. “What are you thinking about? You look constipated.”
He scoffed. “You look constipated most of the time and I don’t comment about it.”
“You do, thought.” You stared at him. “And don’t avoid my question.”
With a sigh, he leaned back against his seat, gaze flickering to your hands. Jungkook moved his around until your fingers were intertwined. “It’s like…” he hesitated, “Wish we could do this stuff back on campus. Go out or whatever.” He cleared his throat. “Like, out.”
There were traces of hurt in his tone that made you deflate, your heart skipping inside your chest. You had been thinking about it for some time, in different degrees of seriousness: about making it public, about not caring so much about what others thought. It was easier said than done, however, and the effects of your accumulated cowardice were corroding you like kerosene from the inside. “Yeah, I was thinking about that too,” you admitted, looking down at your hands. You knew the dark patterns on his skin by memory, your fingers so used to trailing it. You were never into tattoos before you met him. “We could tell them, you know,”
He blinked, taken aback. “Who?”
You shrugged, still unable to meet his stare. “Everyone, anyone. I don’t know.”
“You’re cool with that?” He asked, hesitant.
You sighed, looking out of the window. Mental barriers can feel so physical sometimes, how strange. “It’s not that I’m… cool with it,” you told him. That would take a bit more adaptation. “I’m just tired of hiding.”
Jungkook nodded. It was reassuring to know that you were on the same page on that, even if he had reached it a few months back. “Yeah, I get it,” he said, then found his thoughts coming to a sudden halt, hitting something else. There was a little bug of anxiety crawling in his insides for months now, biting down on his insecurities. He had never had trouble keeping secrets (in his mind, people didn’t need to know jackshit about his personal life), but, in a way, he had the hardest time keeping them from you. Especially when they could hurt you too.
“What is it?” you asked, because he knew you would. “You’re distracted again.”
Putting everything into perspective, his so-called secret wasn’t that bad, but, in his head, it was apocalypse-inducing. Jungkook hadn’t had the guts to tell you about his roommate's new discovery, fearing that you would lash out at him for being unable to keep it under the covers or, worse, fearing that you would blame him, accusing him of doing it on purpose to hurt you. He had created that tricky situation himself: if he had told you straight away, maybe it wouldn’t look so suspicious. But now that so long had passed, it was likely that you’d see that as an admission of his guilt.
Once again: Jungkook was never the type to overthink, to assume the worst possible scenario when it came to such simple, mundane things. But when it came to the idea of losing you, he couldn’t help it.
Still, he tried, deciding that your earlier comment about making it public was the closer he’d ever get to an opening. “There’s something you should probably know,” he started, fighting against the knot in his throat. “Just… don’t get pissed.”
You frowned. “What is it?”
And here goes nothing, he thought. “Taehyung knows.”
You hesitated. Jungkook could practically see the cogs in your head turning, synapses working to make sense of that new, random piece of information. As previously stated, he expected you to start yelling at him, maybe accusing him of betraying your trust, but, instead, what came out of your mouth was a soft-spoken question. “You... told him? When?”
Jungkook shifted around on his seat, catching a glimpse of the happy family by your side — three overly-energetic kids fighting for the pack of sauce, and their parents trying to figure that battle out and end it with the least possible casualties. “Not exactly,” he admitted, looking back at you. “He kind of figured it out by himself. Back at the party. And I couldn’t lie about it, he knows me too well.”
You nodded slowly, licking your lips. It was weird: how Jungkook could predict you extremely well at times and, at others, he completely missed the mark — which, thinking about it, was what had made him grow so interested in you. Maybe he wasn’t the only optical illusion around. “And… how did that turn out?” you wanted to know.
A puff of air left his nostrils as he recalled that fateful night. “He was in shock for like a week. It was pretty funny, actually, he wouldn't stop talking about it,” Jungkook told you. He had endured weeks of his roommate's meltdowns, floating between the need to talk to you, and the absolute horror of doing so. Taehyung had never been super at ease with you — he thought you were way too intense about stuff — and, after everything clicked in his head and he recalled the fact that you had tied Jungkook up, he didn’t want anything to do with you. Especially considering that he knew something he shouldn’t. “But he’s chill about it. I already made sure that he’s not gonna tell anyone. I don’t think anyone would believe him either.”
In a way, Jungkook himself couldn’t believe it sometimes. Looking across the table now, watching as the orange sun caressed your cheeks, he was once again reminded of how different the two of you were. You were full of soft, round edges and pretty smiles; delicate fingers that seemed so unlike his own, calloused ones. He didn’t know why you were still around, didn’t know how he had gotten so lucky for so long.
At his words, though, you frowned. “Tell me you didn’t threaten him with physical violence.”
“Okay.” Jungkook smirked. He had just pressed Taehyung against the wall, no biggie. He’d recover. “I won’t tell you.”
You rolled your eyes. “Funny.”
“I’m hilarious, actually. You just don’t appreciate me enough.”
“Try giving me something to appreciate, then.” You paused, realizing your mistake the exact time that a glint of mischievousness appeared in his eyes. You raised one finger, slightly desperate. “Actually, no, shut up. Don’t say it. There are families in this diner.”
Jungkook groaned. “Come on, baby, there is no way you can just say that and not expect a dirty joke.”
“It was my fault for creating expectations, sorry.” You decided to shut yourself up with a large gulp of your drink. The sweet taste had just entered your mouth when you recalled something else. “Hm!” You exclaimed, rushing to swallow your milkshake. “I have some good news, by the way.”
Jungkook raised his eyebrows. “Shoot.”
“I’m entering a new research project,” when you first spoke those words out loud, you were already expecting the expression of confusion and disgust that covered his face. You raised one hand, stopping him. “Spare me your comments, that’s only half of it.”
He leaned his head to the side. “And the part that interests me is...?”
You cleared your throat — suddenly, it felt a bit harder to speak. “Well... remember how you said that it would be hard to stay away for the entirety of summer break?” You recalled. Jungkook almost flinched at the memory — it was something he had confessed by mistake, provoked by the peaceful afterglow of his orgasm, and the gentle caresses of your fingers in his hair. You weren’t supposed to actually take that seriously, how embarrassing. “I’ll have to spend at least three to four extra weeks here, because I have to compile and organize a lot of data. Maybe more if I need to.”
Actually, it was nice that you took that seriously — he changed his mind.
“That’s… almost a month,” he mumbled, struggling to make sense of that new, fantastic piece of information.
You nodded, taking another slip. Most of it had melted already, but it was still good. “Yeah, it’s a good amount of time, don’t you think?”
It’s a fucking dream come true. “Sounds like it.”
You looked down at your milkshake, already almost at the bottom of the cup. The straw swirled around the cream once, twice, your distracted gaze mingling with the hum that fell from your throat. “After that I’m going home, though,” you told him, unaware that his heart had just decided to give him a free trial of arrhythmia. Talk about emotional rollercoasters. “And I’ll probably come back one week before class starts.”
One month with you, almost two months apart — felt like both an amazing and a horrible deal, like Jungkook was about to sign a contract and sell his soul to the devil. Fame and riches during life, but eternal damnation in death. “I could visit you,” he offered, hopeful.
You waved your hand, disregarding his words with a gentle smile on your face. “Don’t be silly, my hometown is like five hours away. And that’s during a good traffic day.”
Jungkook would make the trip every single day if you asked him to. But he didn’t want to push. “Yeah,” he deflated. “That’s silly.”
“Besides,” you continued, “I don’t think we’re in the meet the parents stage yet.”
Yet? Wait, were you in any stage at all? Jungkook found himself a little dumbfounded at your comment, trying his best to fit it into reality. “I’m great with parents,” he blurted out, finding the disbelief in your semblance. He thought it would be better to change the subject before he fucked up big time. “You’re not bullshitting me about that summer thing, are you? I’ll have you all to myself for that long?”
“Yeah, Yongsun will leave soon after the first week. She’s spending the summer at her rich aunt’s house.” And she actually asked you to go along, but you denied. Half because of the research project, half because of him. But he didn’t need to know that. “So you can come over whenever.”
He wiggled his eyebrows. “Sleep over?”
Yes, please. “If you want.” You shrugged, nonchalant. The Oscars were missing out on your acting skills. “And you, are you planning on visiting your parents during summer?”
You wondered if it was a good idea to bring that up. Jungkook had mentioned that he didn’t have the best relationship with his family — they didn’t hate each other, but didn’t get along super well either. Like pieces of different puzzles thrown together, trying to fit. Regardless of how much you tried to get to know that part of his life, he usually changed the topic before you could do so, avoidant. You didn’t even think he’d answer that question.
Jungkook cleared his throat. “Maybe. I’m thinking sometime around the end of summer break. I did that last time and it worked,” he said. “I’ll probably spend that middle part with Taehyung. He’s loaded and his house has a guest bedroom.”
“Sounds like a plan.” You smiled. “I'm actually amazing with parents too.”
Jungkook caught onto your provocation instantly — smirk already curling up on his lips — but his answer was an honest one. “Oh, no, I’m sure about it.” He scoffed. “Are you kidding me? I can see you all bonding already. They’ll make me an orphan and adopt you instead.”
“Don’t be so dramatic,” you said. “And I hope you have fun with Taehyung. It’s nice that you two are so close — and for so long too. Not everyone has a friendship like that.”
Frowning, he thought about what you said. Jungkook had never stopped to see it like that, Taehyung was always such a constant person in his life that he almost took him for granted. “Yeah, it’s crazy…” he drifted off. “He knows me better than I know myself sometimes. It’s weird.”
You squeezed his hand before his mind could wander too far away from that diner. “Well, now you know how I feel when I’m with you.” You smiled. “Sometimes you tell me things that are so accurate that it scares me.”
A puff of air escaped his nose, stare oscillating to your intertwined fingers. “I just pay attention, that’s all,” he mumbled.
“I know you do,” you told him, tilting your head to the side. Your hand was so warm and soft in his that he never wanted to let it go. “Kook?”
He glanced up. “Yeah, baby?”
“Just remembered something,” you started. “What was the place you wanted to take me to?”
Took him a couple seconds to shuffle around in his mind for that piece of information. Jungkook was so enthralled by your presence that he had frankly forgotten his previous plans for the day. At the realization, though, he looked out of the dusty diner window, eyes following the silhouettes of the strangers outside. “Ah, yeah, it’s almost time,” he said. “I’m glad you asked. Let’s go.”
The food had already been paid for, so the two of you were outside in no time. The temperature had dropped a little ever since you walked into the diner, courtesy of the scorching sun going down, but there was still a nice warm atmosphere surrounding your bodies. There was a faint buzzing of cicadas in the distance and the air smelled sweet, a mixture of ten different food places at once.
“You look cute,” he said abruptly, steps slowing down. “Wanna kiss you.”
You giggled. “Thank you, and you can just kiss me, you know? No need to warn me.”
Jungkook clicked his tongue, changing his direction without saying another word. Lucky for him, there was an alleyway right ahead, so all he had to do was to turn the corner to have you pressed against the wall.
“Is this where you wanted to take me?” You teased, head leaning to the side as he caged your body with his. Your wandering hands slid up the sides of his arms, fingers tracing the black ink on his skin. “Doesn’t seem very romantic.”
He hummed, large hands landing on your hips. “Needed to make a quick stop.” He leaned in, lips brushing like feathers against yours. Your breath hitched in expectation, heartbeat thundering inside your chest. “Give me a minute.”
Kissing Jungkook was pure muscle memory at that point. You didn’t even have to think when his lips met yours, hands flying to his shoulders as his strong arms wrapped around your waist; his large figure pressing you against the brick wall. It was almost poetic how you two had become so accustomed to each other’s mannerisms, like the fact that you knew he’d lean his head to the right side before he did, or that he would take one hand to cup your cheek, thumb grazing your skin. He sighed against the kiss, a pleased hum erupting from his chest as he placed his tongue inside your mouth.
You pushed him away with a silly smile on your face, his nose bumping on yours. “Don’t make a scene, we’re in public.”
Jungkook smirked, taking in everything about you. He could’ve never guessed the two of you would get that far, but, at that moment, he couldn’t be more thankful for it. “Shut up, princess, that’s the good part about it,” he said before diving back in.
The first step to solving a problem is acknowledging you have one — and you had already come to terms with the fact that your blockage when it came to what other people thought of you wasn’t only ruining the great moments you had (or could have had) with Jungkook, but it was also holding you back in general.
If you stopped to think about it, you knew why that happened: you were projecting. It was easier to place your own insecurities and setbacks onto others, because then you could blame an external force for your own losses. It had never been about telling others, it was about admitting to yourself that maybe you had lost control over key parts in your life, maybe you were crazy about a person that you once saw as the lowest of the low. And that he was good to you, that he was one of the best things that had ever happened to you.
The whole Taehyung fiasco was more of a pleasant outcome than a traumatic one — much to yours and Jungkook’s surprise. It was a shift in your foundation, a crack in the base of your preconceived notions that made you take a step back and analyze your situation all over again. Against what your chaotic, reptile brain had predicted, the world didn’t end when someone found out about you and Jungkook — actually, it stayed exactly the same. You didn’t know if it was just because you had not been directly exposed to it, or if it was because it was someone you didn’t have that much contact with, but it was just… fine. You were fine.
That small spark catalyzed a flame of bravery inside your chest: maybe one day you could tell your friends, family, and to hell about what they thought about it. Because you liked (loved) Jungkook and that was enough. Because when he looked at you like he was looking like then, nothing else mattered. Because things would be fine.
“Thank you for today,” you spoke, leaning onto the wooden fence that surrounded the pier. The sunset was a big pink and red bruise on the sky, painting the calm waves with deep shades of orange. The smell of the sea was overwhelming, cleaning you from the inside out. Jungkook had planned to take you there at sunset, and his timing had been perfect. “I loved it. Really.”
Stil, you felt paralyzed, like you couldn’t really act out your desires. You wanted to tell everyone (which, on itself, was already a big jump from where you were a few months back), you wanted to kiss him openly and tell him that you loved him, and you wanted everything to be simple, easy, happy — fine. And maybe it would be. But the abysmal fall that you could take if everything went down the drain prevented you from taking that leap of faith.
Being with Jungkook was easy, but falling for him clearly was not.
“Me too,” he responded, eyes lost in the horizon. “It’s always nice being with you, especially when you don’t annoy me every five seconds.”
You scoffed. “Took the words straight out of my mouth.”
He smiled, looking at you. “Why are you so quiet, by the way?”
Uneasy, you shrugged. Jungkook had shot you right in the chest and was looking at you with gunpowder on his fingers, asking you what happened — why you were acting that way, so mild-mannered when you could barely keep your mouth shut before all that. Truth was, you didn’t know what to say. You didn’t know how to talk like before without completely ruining it. Without speaking too much, and ending up confessing about those annoying butterflies that were madly hitting the walls of your stomach.
“Just enjoying the view,” you said.
He hummed, pulling you closer. “So am I.”
But he was still looking at you.
You thought that Jungkook felt the same — perhaps not as strongly, not as deeply, but he did. You didn’t miss the way that he held you, the worried messages he sent you when you vanished for a few days, absorbed by your own world and its ephemeral worries. You thought that accepting your feelings would be the hardest part, but it didn’t even come close to the horror of sharing them, of speaking that truth into the universe and dealing with the consequences of it. So you didn’t.
And yet you had to say something.
As his arm tightened around you, you melted into his embrace, your head placed snugly against his broad chest. Jungkook’s heartbeat was slow against your ear, calming you down and mingling with the crashing of the waves. “Kook?” You called, voice soft like a whisper.
He placed a kiss on the top of your head. “Mmh?”
You angled your head up, meeting his gaze. There was a warm sensation on your cheeks that you couldn’t get rid of. “I really like you, you know,” you said.
Those words left you with much more ease than you had expected — not broken, mumbled or hidden. Just a clear, diaphanous truth dripping from your lips and curling around the air. It hit Jungkook right in the heart, wrapping around his soul and nestling inside his chest.
He didn’t think he needed to respond, because he thought that it was quite obvious he felt the same, but he did it regardless. “I really like you too, baby.” He placed a kiss on your lips. If he could, he would never stop kissing you, but there was something he needed to ask. “Can I take you somewhere else tonight?”
It wasn’t that. But he’d manage it eventually.
“As long as you don’t kill me and throw my body in a ditch, sure,” you joked.
He smiled. “Don’t worry, that’s, like, third date material.” Jungkook kissed you again, unable to hold himself back. You giggled against his lips, the sound so pretty that he almost wanted to curse at the sunset for even trying to be more divine than you. He leaned back. “But for real. Can I?”
You nodded, nose brushing against his. “Yeah, sure.”
“We should get back, then,” he said. “We have a few hours ahead of us.”
There are some things we experience throughout life that, as simple as they may seem at first glance, stick with us forever, like bubblegum on the bottom of a shoe.
Back in high school, Jungkook had a special difficulty when it came to maths — not because he didn’t get it, but because he didn’t practice. He snoozed through most of his classes, cheated his way to the end of the year, and didn’t bother opening his book. His mathematics knowledge was a polychromatic blurr at the dark corners of his head, a car zooming past too fast for him to actually read the license plate. In the middle of it all, however, there was one specific question that never left him alone.
It was a simple logic problem — so simple, in fact, that his impulsive brain underestimated it. The question was direct, one of many alternatives that he should classify as true or false: a triangle has two sides, it said. Jungkook rolled his eyes, chuckled to himself, and kept reading the test after he had marked it as false.
Taehyung, who somehow managed to be great at maths studying just as much as his friend, explained to Jungkook later that he was thinking about it all wrong. It was true, because if a triangle has three sides, it is logically correct to say it has two. If it has three, it also has two. It made sense, but it fucked up his worldview forever.
He swallowed dry, looking at you by his side. Your fingers were intertwined in his, his thumb caressing the back of your hand as you went on about the weird conversation you had in the last gas station you two stopped in. He wasn’t paying much attention, though. As the cool, blue-ish lights of the tunnel melted over your face, his mind was sent somewhere else, going back and forth like a ping-pong ball.
Following his previous, math-guided trail of thought, his earlier confession wasn’t false: if Jungkook was in love with you, he also liked you. If he had three sides, he also had two. But he still felt like was omitting the truth.
He took your hand and moved it closer to his face. With his eyes stuck on the road, measuring the curving motion of the car, he placed a kiss against the back of your hand. Not that he could just drop that confession on your lap. You liked him, but it didn’t mean that you’d take such a thing lightly, especially if you did not feel the same — and the last thing Jungkook wanted was to scare you away when he finally got you so close. Just because you had two sides, didn’t mean that you had three.
You were still talking — Jungkook knew that you were talking; he could hear your saccharine voice reverberating at the corners of his mind, but he couldn’t concentrate on any of the words that left you. He had never been so nervous before.
He had been considering it for some time now — the idea of making it official — and it had been the whole point of asking you out in such a dramatic, impulsive fashion. But when you were right there, with your hand so warm against his and a ghost of a smile on your lips, he couldn’t find the right way to ask you that.
Basically, he had done and said everything he wanted to, but his main plan (which was to ask you to be his girlfriend) was completely disregarded, pushed aside by the trepidation that grew inside his heart. If Taehyung were there, Jungkook was sure he’d be mocking him for the absolute ridiculousness of it all: it seemed that, after every insane thing Jungkook had done in his life, what has finally got him stuck, paralyzed by fear, was you.
Vulnerability was a fire burning deep inside, scorching his pride and collapsing his foundations. It came in small, manageable waves; the gradual raising of temperature so he didn’t realize he was being boiled alive until it was too late. It scared him, really. How emotionally attached he had become to you; how he couldn’t imagine his routine without you somewhere in it. Jungkook wasn’t used to having something (or someone) for so long, never applied himself to anything worthwhile before you.
But he was trying. He swore he was.
Back at the pier, your confession had put him at ease, gave him an injection of courage to try one more time. Jungkook decided to take you to one of his favorite spots in the world — on top of a hill, right at the outskirts of the city, where he could see the world shining below. It was a private place, outside of the main road, and he didn’t remember any other car showing up anytime he had gone there in the past. In his mind, it was the perfect amount of peacefulness after such a long day. And maybe it would help him steady himself as well.
You sighed. “This place is so gorgeous.”
Jungkook nodded, eyes lost somewhere beyond the windshield. Raindrops were covering his vision, surrounding the town like a ghostly halo. It was a beautiful sight, but also melancholic in its own way. “Looks better when it’s not raining, though,” he told you. “I come here with Taehyung sometimes.”
You giggled. “So many words to say that you’re hotboxing out here.”
“Shut up, that’s only sometimes,” Jungkook told you, pushing your shoulder playfully. “Coming up here helps me think even if I don’t hotbox.”
“Yeah I can see why,” you agreed, eyes navigating around the foggy world beyond his windshield. Everything seemed so small from up there, so mundane and manageable. “The rain is nice too.”
He hummed. “I’ll bring you up here again once it’s not raining.”
You nodded, heart jumping at the thought of a next time. “Thank you for showing me this place, Kook. It must be very special to you.”
He chose not to answer that second part, instead reaching out for your hand once more. Jungkook was never particularly keen on holding hands, but, that day, it seemed that he couldn’t get enough of it. Of you. “I’m happy you like it.” Once again, he kissed the back of your hand. “We can stay for as long as you want, baby.”
And so you did.
If a time traveler had told you months back that Jeon Jungkook — of all fucking people — would be the easiest person in the world to talk to, you would’ve probably done something to change your future, because that just couldn’t be a good sign. Still, the universe works in mysterious ways, and you learned to accept its strange peculiarities when it came to the things or people that it decided to shove into your life. Sometimes you have to let go of the wheel to enjoy the drive — figuratively of course.
Somewhere during your mindless conversation, the two of you had moved to the backseat, under the excuse that the trip had been long, and you needed to stretch out your legs. Being in that position, with the two of you side by side and squeezed into that limited space, took you on a small trip into the past — a faint recollection in which, months ago, you were slightly drunk and pouring out your insecurities to him, convincing yourself that there was no meaning behind that shameful spectacle.
You were kind of an idiot when it came to stuff like that, however, and you were just starting to figure that out. No amount of book smarts managed to fight against your denial and the emotional pit of despair you had faced when you thought about having actual intimate moments with Jungkook, and about what they could mean. Months ago, you had convinced yourself that it meant nothing — but, now, with that bird eye’s view, you could tell that it always meant something.
It had always been nice to be with Jungkook, with his smug smirk and the tender touches of his hand on your face, playing with your hair, sliding down your back. It had always been fun, spontaneous, fiery — always something that broke the monotony of your routine and made you have some much-deserved fun. You had spent so long convincing yourself that Jungkook was a bad influence on you that you never even noticed all the good changes he brought into your life.
He had just pulled away from a kiss when your phone vibrated somewhere on the front seat — and it didn’t stop. Against Jungkook’s whiny protests, you fought your way around until you grabbed the device, then collapsed back into your previous position — with his arm around your shoulder and your head against his chest; both of you sat against the door of his car, legs intertwined on the seat.
“It’s just Yongsun asking if I’m alive,” you told him, thumbs jumping over the keys on your phone. Jungkook didn’t know why you were telling him that because he could already see your screen — and the flood of texts that came with it, asking if you’d be home for dinner — but he also wasn’t paying much attention. The whole texting moment reminded him of the earlier conversation you two had, a spark of possessiveness spreading like wildfire inside him. “I’ll drop my location and ask her to come dig up my body later.”
“Funny,” he said, voice flat. He sounded just as distracted as he was, and your ears perked up at that. You were just about to ask him what was bothering him when he told you himself. “No Jimin?”
You turned your head to look at him, locking your phone. Yongsun could wait a little bit longer. “No Jimin,” you told him. Jungkook’s face was expressionless, you had no clue what he was thinking about. “I told you that—“
“Hmmm, yeah, yeah,” he disregarded, shuffling closer to you and removing the phone from your hands, placing it on the floor beside him. His backseat wasn’t the smallest, but it was hard to accommodate both of you — so, it was clear what he wanted you to do. “Heard all that.”
With a bit of maneuvering, you leaned closer to him, still on his side, and threw one leg over his. Your hands were on his chest now, and your skirt has moved up enough so you could feel the side of his thigh pressing against your mound. “So… what’s the issue?” You asked.
He sighed deeply, much more dramatic than he needed to be, and nuzzled his face against your neck. “No issue,” Jungkook mumbled, pressing a light kiss against your skin — only the first one, however, because they started to get progressively harsher, needier, as he moved closer to your face.
You chuckled at his demeanor, surprised at how firm your voice came out. “Don’t believe you.” Your eyes closed as his mouth continued to kiss its way up your neck, tongue playing with your skin, teeth teasing it just slightly. You gasped when he brushed past a particularly sensitive spot, warning a soft grunt from him. “I was just joking earlier, you know, there’s no need to be jealous.”
“I’m not jealous, princess,” he denied, finally reaching your cheek. Jungkook pulled on your hair so you could lean your head away from him, exposing more of you, and his mouth continued its path closer to your lips. “Not right now.”
“Not now?” You echoed, interested.
He finally found your lips, pecking them only once before pulling away. “Mhm. Not now,” Jungkook agreed, letting go of your hair. Took him a few seconds to speak up again, his mind more focused on the way his other hand slipped between your breasts, squeezing your waist before moving on to your ass. “How can I? When you’re mine.” Jungkook groped your ass, earning a soft whimper from you. “All mine, baby.”
“Says who?” You teased.
There were goosebumps on your legs that Jungkook didn’t miss, his fingers nonchalantly tracing the back of your thighs, adventuring beneath your skirt. “You.” He smirked. His focus seemed to shift constantly, wanting to have all of you at once. Now, his gaze found the curvature of your neck, a pleased noise leaving his throat. “Wanna mark you up, baby. You look so pretty with hickeys.”
You gulped. “Not th—“
“Not there, I know,” he finished, taking his hand to your neck. He didn’t press down, but the sensation of his large fingers wrapping around your throat made your heart skip a beat. If he felt it, he didn’t show any reaction. “I won’t do it. But I wanna.”
There was something dangerous about the husky quality of his tone, the way Jungkook was looking at you like a predator stalking its prey. You bought yourself some time by leaning your head against his arm, skin touching the cold glass of the window. The drumming of the rain was never-ending, the shapes of the droplets reflecting on his serious features. “Why do you want to do that?” You asked softly, measuring his actions.
Something told you that Jungkook was enhancing his reactions a little just to fuck with you (roleplaying, if you will). Yet, something switched inside your brain when he spoke out again. “So people know you’re mine.” His warm palm slithered up your neck, cupping your cheek once again. “So they don’t even try to approach my girl.”
Maybe it was time to admit that you loved when he said stuff like that, exaggerated or not. You wanted it to be true, wanted to be his girl. “Is that why you did it that time?” You asked, unable to fight back against your smile. “Since when are you that possessive?”
Jungkook breathed out, eyes stuck to the shape of your lips; to the way his thumb grazed them once, twice, until you parted them just slightly. “Not my fault you never noticed,” he sounded like he was about to get sidetracked, as if his mind was already focusing on something else. You let him change the subject. “Can you get home late, princess?”
“Yeah, I don’t have a curfew.” You chuckled. “Why?”
“No reason.” He followed as you took his hand in yours, repositioning it until it was resting on your waist. His stare remained there for a little longer, observing the curves of your body, the way your skirt had hiked up almost completely. “Just thinking.”
It was your turn to pull him closer, fingers intertwining in his dark locks. Jungkook leaned into your touch, turning his face around so he could place a kiss against your palm. Maybe your heart melted, but he didn’t have to know that. “You don’t do that very often,” you joked.
He didn’t follow it. “Only about important things,” Jungkook said, the hand that was on your hips now slithering up to your waist. With his other arm still around your shoulder and pressed against the car door, there wasn’t much that he could do, but you could see it in his eyes that he wanted to touch you more, harder, to pull you closer. There was such intensity under his gaze that your stare faltered, instead following the raindrops on the window. “Look at me, princess.” He called and you did. Jungkook sighed, leaning in. “Be good for me, alright?”
Expectant, you nodded. Your eyes fluttered shut just as his lips met yours; tongue sliding inside your mouth right away, wasting no time. You knew Jungkook enough to learn how to recognize a few signs — and when he kissed you like that, so sloppy and deep, it meant that he had a one-track mind when it came to making you feel good, and he wouldn’t tiptoe around it too much.
The confirmation for that small hypothesis of yours didn’t take long to arrive. You shuffled closer to him, breasts pressed against his broad chest and one of your legs hooked over his, and Jungkook took that opening as his cue. The arm that was around your shoulder moved to wrap around your waist, pulling your body closer as his other hand slid beneath your skirt, quickly finding what he was looking for.
A desperate little whimper fell from your lips as his fingers pushed your panties aside, gently brushing between your soaked folds, towards your clit. Jungkook swallowed your moans as he started pressing down on your sensitive spot, his tongue playing with yours as your hands held onto the fabric of his white shirt. You could feel the drumming of his heart beneath your fingers, the raggedy quality of his breath as he groaned against your mouth. “Cute,” he mumbled as he pulled away. “Wanna eat you out. Lie down for me.”
There wasn’t one single reality in which you’d deny him. After a small instant of struggling and fumbling around, you got to the position he requested, your upper back leaning against the door and your legs spread out on the seat. Jungkook was seated between them, his palms slithering up your calves, finding support on your knees as he leaned down.
“Have I ever told you how much I love these skirts?” He asked.
You chuckled. “Only a million times.”
He flicked the fabric over, exposing your panties to him. They were white, a perfect color to see the wet mark you had left on them. “Make that a million and one.”
One of your hands pushed his hair away from his face. “I almost can’t wear them anymore, because of these.” You pointed down.
Yeah, he had seen those already. His cock throbbed inside his pants when he saw all the hickeys he had previously left on the insides of your thighs; most of which had already started to fade. You prohibited him from marking you anywhere people could see, and Jungkook kind of liked that a lot more — it was his private spectacle, his skin-deep reminder that you were his, again and again. “So pretty, angel,” he mumbled. “All mine.”
You smiled fondly. “You haven’t called me that in a long time.”
“Hmmm yeah?” Jungkook pushed his body closer to your heat, trying to find a good position on the backseat. “Don’t know why. You’re such an angel.” He kissed your thigh. “My pretty angel.”
Gently, his tongue came out to lick those marks, teeth biting down on your skin just enough to have you gasping above him. “Don’t tease,” you said — what was supposed to be a warning sounded more like a bargain, considering how airy your voice had become.
“Aw, then it’s no fun.” He pouted, fingers hooking on either side of your panties. One of his hands let the elastic go, a smirk blossoming on his features as it smacked back against your hips. “What do you want, baby? Let me take care of you.”
“Your mouth,” you told him with no hesitation, “and your fingers too.”
Jungkook chuckled, leaning in so he could place a kiss against your mound. You were so on edge that even that managed to evoke a shiver from you. “My girl’s greedy tonight,” he teased, voice deep. “But whatever she wants.” He finally removed your panties, throwing it on the front seat. “That stays with me.”
“Pervert,” you teased.
“For you, maybe,” Jungkook responded, eyes locked on your glistening folds. He separated them just slightly, watching the way your wetness clung onto his fingers, your legs jumping in expectation. “Stay still now, princess.”
You did as he said, nails digging to the leather of the seat as Jungkook aligned himself with your pussy, letting the saliva accumulate in his mouth. You watched in awe as he let it fall, spit mixing with your juices, dripping down all over your pussy. “Told you that you’re nasty,” you said.
Jungkook smirked like a devil, two of his fingers spreading his spit around. “You love it. You’re worse than me.”
You bit your lip. “I’m not.”
“No?” He raised one eyebrow. “You don’t like it messy, princess?”
Before you could respond, two of his fingers sunk in your pussy, shoving a bit of his saliva inside as well. You shivered at the feeling, walls fluttering around him as he started moving them in and out.
Jungkook’s smile only grew, victorious. “That’s what I thought.” He reached closer, breath hitting your pussy as he spoke out. “Stay still.”
His mouth was on you in no time, ripping a loud moan out of you. It wasn’t a mystery that Jungkook had almost an obsession when it came to eating you out, but it always surprised you how eager he was every time he did it, just moaning and grunting against your pussy as if your taste was the best thing he had ever experienced. “F-Fuck,” you cried out, back arching off the leather seat. “Feels s-so good, Kook.”
He lived for your stuttering, raggedy praises; lived for your taste flooding his mouth. His fingers held onto your thighs harder, keeping you in place as he continued to lap around your folds; sucking your clit and teasing your entrance with his fingers before sinking back in. Jungkook was overcome with the need to see you, so he pulled back for a second so he could meet your heavy eyes. “Be louder for me, baby,” he husked. “Wanna hear how good I make you feel.”
You gave him one, feverish nod before he was diving back in; licking you clean like his life depended on it. “J-Jungkook,” you called out, slightly dizzy already. “You’re so good. F-Feels so good.”
In fact, it felt too good. It wasn’t rare for Jungkook to rip your orgasm out of you earlier than expected (which always inflated his ego for days after that), but, that night, you didn’t want it to end so soon. You could already feel the telltale signs of your high approaching and, as tempting as that was, you had different needs in mind.
“Wait, wait.” You pulled on his hair, trying to get his mouth away from you. Jungkook, however, only went harder. “K-Kook, stop.”
At that, you got his attention. He was breathing out heavily when he pulled away, his chin covered with your wetness. “What is it?”
“I…” you hesitated, fighting through the veil of dizziness in your mind. Jungkook thought that it was adorable how you got tongue-tied when you were close to cumming. It was a rare sight — one reserved only for him. “I... wanna cum on your cock.”
That was like a punch in the gut, knocking the air out of his lungs. Jungkook could feel his cock throbbing at the sight of you — so overwhelmed, so wet — sounding so innocent when you asked for such a lewd thing. “Yeah?” He moved quickly, pushing his body away from yours so he could tug off his shirt. It fell somewhere behind him as he placed his face on your neck, voice muffled against your skin. “It’s so fucking hard for you, baby.” He squeezed your hips. “Never wanted to be inside you so fucking much.”
“Please,” you asked again, sounding so sweet and needy that Jungkook had to hold himself back from not fucking you right away. “Want you so much it hurts.”
He growled against your flesh. “God, I wanna see you riding my cock so fucking bad,” Jungkook cursed, pressing himself against you. You mewled when you felt his erection on the inside of your thigh; his big cock fueling your lust even more. “Sit on my lap for me, baby.”
Part of you had already guessed he was in that mood. When Jungkook was horny, he wanted to fuck you until you were crying; drilling in and out of you so hard and deep so that he was the only thing you could think about, his name the only thing you could say. But when Jungkook was really horny (as he was that night), there was nothing else in the world that satifistied him more than to watch you fucking yourself on his cock, using him however you wanted until you were sobbing out his name, cumming all over him.
And you weren’t going to complain about that idea either.
With a bit more maneuvering — you had yet to figure out if you enjoyed car sex or not — you finally found yourself sitting on top of his muscular thighs, your palms sliding up his toned arms, towards his chest. It was unfair how Jungkook was hot all around, with his Greek god figure and the black ink dancing in his skin; his messy dark hair and lustful gaze. You were doomed, and he pulled you into a hungry kiss before you could stare any further.
Jungkook’s hands slid up the sides of your body, exploring the smoothness of your skin and dragging your blouse upwards. He groaned against your lips once his palms found the expanse of your breasts, hands squeezing on the flesh. It was annoying that you still had your bra on, but there was something so amazing about the little whimper you let out, about the way your back arched, body moving closer to his touch. You were always so good for him, always ready to give him whatever it was that he asked for. Always so sensitive to his most minimal of touches.
Soon enough, you were breathing hard against his lips, pulling away so you could speak. “I’m so wet, Kook,” you said, your voice a timid whisper. “Just fuck me, please.”
He groaned, squeezing your covered breasts once more. “Fuck, don’t say that,” he cursed out. You were never one to speak like that often so, when you did, he felt as if he needed a moment to compose himself. “You don’t know what that does to me.”
You blinked those pretty eyes of yours at him, seeming so innocent but being anything but. “Why not? it’s true,” you teased, taking one hand beneath your skirt. Jungkook followed the movement, mesmerized, and thought that he was about to pass out when your fingers returned to his field of vision. “Look.” You pouted.
A deep hum dripped past his lips, his hooded eyes watching as your fingers shimmered under the pale moonlight, covered by your arousal. He could feel himself salivating at the sight, wondering why the hell he had stopped eating you out in the first place.
Still, he maintained his cool. Jungkook’s hand wrapped around your wrist, gently guiding your fingers closer to your mouth. “Taste yourself for me, baby,” he requested. His heartbeat was out of control as he witnessed your pouty lips opening up so your fingers could slip inside, the same tongue that he had just been caressing now licking yourself clean. “That’s it. Tastes good, right?” You nodded, fingers still pressed against your tongue. After another second, Jungkook removed your digits from your mouth, but his were already taking their place. “Now mine, baby,” he egged you on.
Of course, you did as he requested, licking and sucking on his fingers until he was satisfied.
Jungkook smirked, looking particularly hypnotized that night. “Good girl,” he praised under his breath, a maniac gaze swimming inside his eyes as he looked up at yours. “Good girls deserve rewards.” Lethargically, he started moving his fingers in and out of your mouth, his cock throbbing inside his pants at the small whimper that came from your throat. He wanted to see you sucking him off, worshiping him until he came all over your face, inside your mouth, on your chest. But what he needed was to be deep inside your pussy. “Want my cock?”
Again, you nodded, moaning around his digits.
“Use your words, angel,” he teased, fingers leaving your mouth once again. Lately, it was rare to witness that cocky, annoying side of his, but, once it showed up, it was just like before. “Let me hear you.”
“Yes, please,” you asked.
He clicked his tongue, lowering his hand. You gasped when his saliva-covered fingers found your clit, circling it slowly. “Ask one more time.” Jungkook was impassive, not reacting to the way you squirmed above him, already so sensitive. “You can do better than that, baby.”
You could never tell if you adored or despised when he got like that. Maybe both. Probably both. “Please, Kook, I want it so bad,” you begged. Through it all, you still had your own cards up your sleeve, some small actions you knew that affected him deeply. So you made good use of them: leaning in and placing a hot kiss against his lips, your hands tugging on his hair. Jungkook groaned against your mouth, his fingers stilling on your clit when you rolled your center against his erection. “Please,” you repeated, voice airy. “Let me ride you.”
How could he possibly say no to that?
“Fuck. Wanna see you bounce on it, baby.” Jungkook leaned back, quickly opening his zipper. You moved away just enough so he could pull his pants and underwear down, his cock stiff against his lower abdomen. “And hold your skirt up for me.”
You pouted. “You don’t want me to take it off?”
Jungkook shook his head, holding you by the chin and pulling you into another heated kiss. He moaned against it once you sat right over his cock, your warm wetness spreading all over him. He pulled away. “You know I love it when you ride me with a skirt on, princess. Looks like a sexy schoolgirl.”
A thousand pecks later, and you found a chance at speaking. “Pervert,” you repeated, smiling against the kiss. “You always do stuff like this.”
He hummed. “Yeah? Like what?”
“Like… fuck me with my skirt on,” you started, kissing down his neck, “Cum inside me and make me keep it inside all day. Eat it out of me.” Jungkook grew stiff beneath you, a grunt leaving his chest as you rolled your pussy against his cock one more time. “Cum inside me two, three times in a row.” You giggled. “Do you like stuffing me that much, Kook? Why is that?”
He was obsessed with the idea, actually, just you talking about that was enough to make him dizzy with desire. Maybe it could be all trailed back to his possessive gene, the evil, cocky part of him that wanted to see you full of him, dripping with his cum, his fingerprints all over your body. What started as a simple ego thing — playing with your limits, seeing how far you’d let him go — was now a way for him to get a hold of you, to make you his, even if it was an ephemeral, material thing. And, well, yeah, maybe it was also still an ego thing. Maybe it made him super hard thinking that you were walking around with his cum inside you, dripping down your panties and making a mess all over your pussy.
Instead of saying all that, however, Jungkook simply threw the question right back at you, “Don’t you like it when I do all that?”
“I do,” you admitted straight away, kissing his lips once, twice, barely giving him what he wanted before pulling away. He knew that glint in your eyes, and he had learned to hate it. “Not as much as you, though.”
Still, Jungkook wouldn’t fall for your schemes that night. Sometimes he didn’t mind so much, but, then, he wouldn’t let you take the wheel no matter what. “Liar. You love it,” he threw back, wrapping one hand around his cock, the other propping you up over it. You got the cue instantly, lowering yourself so his crown brushed against your entrance. “What, you think I forgot how wet you get when I cum inside you? When you keep it in?” He smirked at the overwhelmed expression that monopolized your face, the hand on your hips pushing you down on his cock. He knew how to put you back in place, when necessary. “Look at this, I just cleaned you up and you’re already soaked again. So messy, baby.”
You gasped when his tip sunk past your entrance, slowly stretching you out. “K-Kook—“
“Shhh, you got this.” One hand was in your hair, guiding your head closer to him. Weak, you could only follow his pull; feeling as he placed a gentle kiss against your lips. “Slow. Deep inside for me, baby. You got this.”
With a nod, you did as he requested, gradually sinking lower and lower until his big cock filled you to the brim. You moaned out at the feeling, your arms wrapping around his shoulders for support as you tried to get used to it.
Jungkook was breathing heavily then, his large palms cupping your ass, every cell of his body focused on the amazing way you squeezed around him. It was impossible to consider a reality in which you were not made for him, the way you two fit together was too good to be true. “That’s it… Just like that, baby,” he said, trying to fight back his moans. “Move for me?”
The thought of mocking him about his request (considering that Jungkook was a big advocate for cockwarming as a teasing mechanism) crossed your mind, but you brushed it off almost instantly. You couldn’t overlook the need that grew inside you, begging you to fulfill it, to roll your hips against his until you were cumming.
So you did. Took you a few attempts to set a rhythm, body moving up and down as you felt his cock sink inside of you, brushing all your sensitive spots on its way out, then all the way back in. Maybe you should’ve gotten used to it by now, but every time still felt like the first.
“L-Like this?” You asked.
“Faster,” Jungkook breathed out. Maybe your thighs would burn like hell after your rush of adrenaline went away, but you didn’t care too much about it then — you did what he requested, picking up the pace. “Yeah, yeah, just like that. Fuck, that’s my girl.”
You nodded, body overflowing with pleasure as you continued to ride him. That harsh, messy pace was a blessing to him, the way your breasts bounced close to his face pulling his attention instantly.
“Doing so well for me, princess. So fucking perfect for my cock,” Jungkook praised, eyes running all over your body as you squirmed under his touches. There was no one else in his world but you; you and the overwhelming need he had to have your tits on display. He tugged on the hem of your top. “Can I?”
You nodded, raising your arms so Jungkook could slide that piece of clothing off easily. His hands were quick to unclasp your bra, placing it on the seat next to him as he dove in to play with your breasts. “Love your tits, baby, so soft,” his voice was a muffled groan against your skin, tongue poking out against your nipple. “Love your ass.” He squeezed your cheeks, making you roll your hips against his cock harder. “Fucking love when you ride me.”
“K-Kook,” you sobbed, I’m—“
He growled. “Love when you call me that.”
Of course, he loved way more than that. Jungkook was a weak man — point blank, no excuses about it. He was weak about the way your warm walls clenched around his cock; lost himself in the overwhelmed nature of your expression as you rolled your hips down on his length. The world was always so enhanced when he was with you, every sentiment and sensation amplified every time he looked at you.
The first times you fucked, it was just that, and he was fine with that — at the time. But, back then, Jungkook never noticed those small things about you with such clarity: the small puffs of air that escaped between your lips, the way your nails dug to his neck or the way you whined out his name. He never noticed how ridiculously pretty you looked, his personal angel, just losing yourself over and over for him. He liked having you on top because he couldn’t run away from those details even if he tried, so he let them consume him.
The sound of you giggling brought him back straight away, however, his heart fluttering inside his chest. “You’re staring,” you told him.
Jungkook smirked. “Hmmm… am I?” His hand moved your hair away from your face, cupping your cheek. You leaned into the touch and his thumb started caressing your skin, feeling the heat beneath his palm. If he concentrated hard enough, maybe he could remember that forever. “Can you blame me? Look how pretty my girl is.”
“Your girl?” You asked, slightly delirious at that point.
Soon enough, if he had the guts to ask you. “Yeah, all mine,” Jungkook responded, diving into that fantasy for a second — into a parallel universe where all his problems were gone, and you two were everything left in the world. “Come here.” His hand moved to the nape of your neck. “Wanna kiss you.”
And you did, of course, because you were always just so good for him. Jungkook leaned his head to the side, fingers pulling on your hair as you opened your mouth for him, allowing for his tongue to meet yours. Once again, he felt his stomach being filled with that tingling anticipation, lust and tenderness battling inside it, begging for his attention. He couldn’t handle it: you were too much, always had been.
Just like that, some forsaken feelings hit him before he could avoid them, before he could push them away any further. It was always like that: when he couldn’t deal with it, not when you were consuming every cell of his body and he could not ignore the effect you had on him.
Again and again, those words were just ringing inside his head — I love you, I love you, I love you — repeating themselves into a maniac crescendo that drowned out his own thoughts. You were all that he could see, all that he could hear and touch; you were every idea that permeated his mind at that instant, chest overflowing with devotion to a point in which he couldn’t even speak. Especially not that. Not those words.
Not when you were so blissfully ignorant above him, not when the realization made him so fucking terrified that he just wanted to crawl into a ball and hide forever. Jungkook couldn’t grasp his reasoning anymore, he had long lost it. He was made of sheer, unadulterated emotion — a fierce battle between his blossoming love and the horrifying vulnerability unraveling inside his soul, promising to break him apart.
He could not say that. Not now. Not when there was so much at risk. Not when he couldn’t even bring himself to ask you to be his girlfriend in the first place.
So he didn’t — instead, he continued making out with you in a faithless attempt at shutting himself up.
You whined softly against his lips, your hands losing their strength on his shoulders. Your breathing was ragged, shallow; thighs starting to shake on either side of his body. Jungkook knew those signs like no one else, was quick to grip your ass tighter, helping you move.
“Close, baby?” He breathed out, voice raspy, sounding like sin itself. “Gonna cum for me?”
You nodded, nose brushing against his. “Y-Yeah. Almost there.”
“Fuck, princess, your pussy’s so tight,” Jungkook cursed, closing his eyes for a second. He was a total goner: nothing could ever compare to the high he got when he was plunged deep inside your heat, breathing the same air as you. When his heart felt so full and so empty at the same time. “You sure you don’t wanna come over? Wanna fuck you all night.”
“C-can’t,” you struggled to get out, “have class in the morning.”
He scoffed. Some things would never change. “How boring.”
You rolled your eyes. “Next time maybe don't t-take me out on a Sunday, dumbass.” You tried to sound harsh, but it was impossible to ignore the tight grip you had on his cock as you cried out, movements stilling for just a second before you found the strength inside you to pick the pace back up. “K-Kook,” you stuttered, hooded eyes meeting his own. He loved when you called him that, made his heart burst inside his chest — and if you called him that while you were riding him then… well, then he was a dead man. “I’m gonna—“
“Gonna cum for me?” he completed, raising his hips slightly to meet your movements. His cock felt so good inside you, his ragged breaths were all that you could focus on. “Cum all over my cock, baby, wanna feel it.”
There was nothing in the world you wanted more than that. You could feel your pleasure building up more and more inside you, ready to snap, and you simply followed it as you tipped over the edge. Jungkook loved the way you looked, the way you clenched around him, the way you cried out his name like a prayer when your body finally gave out and you came around his hard cock. He could replay that moment in his mind forever and never get tired of it.
It was by a miracle and the strong support of his hands on your hips that you didn’t just collapse against his chest, instead managing to keep a semi-constant pace on his cock — much slower, however. “Fuck, that’s it,” he moaned under his breath, his dark eyes running all over your body, trying to absorb everything about you: the bouncing of your breasts, the shaking of your thighs, the pretty frown on your features. “So good for me, baby, you always take my cock so well. My good girl.”
You nodded, still slightly dazed-out after your orgasm. Jungkook lived for moments like that, to see how fucked-out and pretty you looked when he was done with you. It made his cock throb inside you, threatening to spill over.
“W-Want you to cum,” you stuttered. “Inside.”
Jungkook was almost there already, barely hanging by a thread. “God, you’re fucking perfect.” He threw his head back against the seat, black hair falling all over his forehead, sweaty and sticking onto his skin. Jungkook was an image of perdition then, so hot that you couldn’t even think about anything else for a second. “Fuck, princess,” he moaned out, “you’re gonna make me cum.”
Lately, his mind became a dangerous place when he was that close to his high, losing its filter and threatening to make him spill everything that was brewing inside his skull. Jungkook had to hold himself back with all the force he had left, but you could see it in his hooded, fucked-out gaze that there was so much that he wanted to say, so many broken words that got lost amidst his groans and moans.
For better or for worse, he came before he had the chance to do so. Jungkook shivered beneath you as he cock released inside you, hands holding tightly to your ass as you milked his orgasm, moaning out your name as he filled you up. He could feel his cum dripping out of you, making a mess on him; could feel the way your pussy clenched around him, and it all was a piece of paradise reserved just for him.
Once Jungkook reached his limit, he pulled you flushed against his chest, kissing your forehead. “You’re amazing,” he said, lost in your gaze. “Stay like this for me.”
You brushed his sweaty hair away from his face. “You don’t wanna see it?”
“Later,” he responded. “Wanna stay like this for now.” Jungkook shoved his face on the crook of your neck, smooching your skin as a long, delighted hum vibrated in his chest. “Can I see you tomorrow, baby?” He asked, voice muffled against your skin. “I can kick Taehyung out if you wanna come over.”
You chuckled, placing your fingers in his hair. He leaned against your touch, silently begging you to play with it. “Yeah, sure,” you agreed. “I have class until three, though. And you don’t have to kick the poor boy out. Especially considering that he already knows.”
Jungkook sighed at your response, his hands pulling you closer by the waist. Your back arched, his toned chest pressing against yours as his mouth started to assault your neck, running over the kisses and bites he had left before. “And the day after that?” He pressed on.
Even though you had no idea where he was trying to go with that, you still complied. “Yeah, we can figure it out.” You smiled, eyes fluttering shut at the sensation of his mouth moving towards your jaw, your cheek, and then placing a kiss right on the corner of your lips. “Any day you want.”
He smiled. “I like the way that sounds.” Leaning back, Jungkook looked at you and, just like that, all the monsters recoiled back under his bed. All his negative thoughts evanesced, and there was no doubt pestering his mind. He looked at you and he just realized that things were simple — and, all along, the two of you were just making it way harder than it should be. But he could change that now. “Baby?” He called, possessed by a newfound wave of bravery. “Can I ask you something?”
“Yes, of course.” You nuzzled closer to him, placing a small kiss against his lips. Jungkook tried to deepen it, but you pulled away before he could manage to do so. That seemed to be a pattern between the two of you. “What is it? You got so serious all of a sudden.”
His jaw clenched as he formulated his sentence: he had practiced a few times in his head, trying to find the best moment to let it loose, but it was ten times harder now that you were waiting for it. “Do you want to make it, you know, official?” The question left his mouth rather smoothly, much better than he had predicted. “You know. Us.”
You blinked, shoulders falling as you digested his words. There was a fluttering in your heart that you did not miss, a sinking feeling in your stomach that left your body on edge. “Are… are you kidding?” You asked. Just to be sure. Just so you wouldn’t embarrass yourself with an overly-excited yes.
Jungkook frowned. “Why would fucking I joke about that?” He threw back. You didn’t know. It just felt too good to be true. “No, I really fucking like you,” he went on, arms tightening around your lower body. “Want you to be mine. For real.”
Now, Jungkook had seen basically all the expressions you could give, but he had never seen them change so fast. Your face went from disbelief to worry, to happiness and back to confusion; only to explode in a fit of laughter. “I cannot believe you.” You pressed your forehead against his shoulder, body bouncing up and down as you continued to laugh. “And is this how you ask me to be your girlfriend? Cock inside and all?” You leaned back, wiping a tear away from your cheek. “Jeon Jungkook, I swear to god… You’re so stupid.”
He smirked. “So I’m guessing that’s a yes?”
The urge to smack him across the head was overwhelming, but you held it back like a pro — you had months of practice. Instead, you placed both hands on either side of his face, keeping him in place. “See? You’re stupid,” you repeated, unable to fight the happiness in your tone. “It’s a yes, obviously.”
And you kissed him, because there was nothing else in the world to be done at that moment.
Jungkook had to admit: he didn’t know shit about maths — and the little he did know, it was long forgotten after he had left high school. He wasn’t sure anymore, but he thought that something needed at least three sides to actually be a shape… or whatever it was that mathematicians referred to as. That’s why the triangle was the first of that weird sequence he had to memorize. And, therefore, maybe he was just too dumb to see the third side of you.
Maybe you liked him way more than you led on.
Turns out that Yongsun’s good luck had magically returned and you didn’t even know about it.
The drive back to your place was sadly faster than you had anticipated and, about thirty minutes after you had floated your way up to cloud nine, Jungkook was parking in front of your apartment complex, putting an end to your first official date together. He kissed you goodbye (at least three times) before you got out of his car; promising once again that you’d figure out a way to see him the following day. Jungkook (in typical chaotic fashion) decided to keep your panties as a consolation prize regardless.
The front door had started making an awful creaking sound, and it signaled your arrival when you stepped into your apartment. You hummed at the delicious aroma that filled the warm atmosphere, leaning on the wall so you could remove your shoes. They collapsed against the floor, two small perturbations in that peaceful world. “Yongsun! That smells amazing, what is it?” You called out, but received no answer. Yongsun was probably distracted, as she often was when she was cooking. “I’ll be there in a second if you want some help!”
After you went to your room and changed your clothes, you made your way to the kitchen, where you found her leaning over one large pot — spices in one hand, wooden spoon in the other — and her hair looking like it had been tied in a hurricane. The mess in the kitchen was absurd — with poorly-chopped vegetables thrown around; a dark puddle of sauce on the floor; and remnants of mustard on the back of her clothes. You had no idea how Yongsun managed to be so clumsy, but you couldn’t complain when she cooked so well.
You crossed your arms as you arrived by her side, taking a peek inside the pot. “Hey, it smells great. What is it?” You repeated, before looking up at her. Yongsun looked awfully serious, the most you had seen during the years she had been your roommate, and that mere observation sunk like an anchor inside your stomach. “What happened?”
In a way, you knew what had happened before she even started talking. It took you two seconds to remind yourself of the conversation you two had before you left, and another second to take a glimpse at the living room’s window, as if to check that it was still there. Yongsun liked to take breaks during cooking, walking around the place as the food boiled, and it wouldn’t surprise you if her timing had been precise enough to see something.
Still, her following words caught you a little off guard. “You know Kim Taehyung? Last semester, I had this project with him. He talked so much we almost handed it in late.”
You blinked — wait, had Taehyung told her something? Had he asked her something and she had just now connected the dots? “I remember that. You just never told me it was with Taehyung.”
She hummed. “You know him?”
You took a deep breath, trying to keep your emotions under control. There was an urge inside you to look through the window, review the possibility of Yongsun staring down the street and seeing who you were with — Jungkook hadn’t even left his car, so maybe she was going to mention something completely different. Still, you concentrated that energy into keeping your voice casual, under control. “Yeah, he’s in my ethics class. Why?”
She nodded, finally meeting your stare. Yongsun didn’t look sad, mad, or anything in between, which confused you a little. “One time he told me about this roommate of his,” she continued casually, measuring your expressions. Of course she knew who it was. There was no way she didn’t. “Who fixed a Chevy Camaro ‘69 when he was in high school, he did it with his dad. Taehyung didn’t stop talking about how the car was super cool, and that he wanted to have a bonding experience like that with his own dad. He showed me a picture of it and everything.”
“People talk a lot of personal stuff to you,” you deflected. Part of you wanted to tell her, you had thought about it so many times already, and yet you felt like you could barely move now, just waiting for that excruciating mystery to come to an end.
“Happens when you study psych.” Yongsun sighed, pointing at something behind you. “Pass me the salt?” You had just grabbed it when she gave her killer shot. “Pretty sure you know who his roommate is. I think there’s only one person around campus with a car like that, and I just saw it dropping you off.”
You laughed, dry, because that was all that your body could do at that point. It was a laugh of nervousness, of relief, of fear, of happiness. Everything and nothing at once. “Surprise, I guess,” you said, monotone.
She elevated one eyebrow, grabbing the salt from your hands. Most people would measure it, but Yongsun had a weird sixth sense when it came to cooking, so she just threw a random amount inside the mixture before continuing. “Not a surprise, I think,” she told you. “I had my suspicions.”
Uneasy, you nodded. You also had your suspicions that she knew who it might be, considering the comments she had dropped throughout the months; the way she had looked and talked to Jungkook back at Hoseok’s party. Nevertheless, you guessed she still hoped it was someone else. “You’re fine with that? You look like…”
Yongsun scoffed. “Fine is a strong word, honestly.” Her stare faltered, and suddenly staring at her nails seemed to be much more interesting than keeping a stable eye contact with you. She breathed out, constructing her words inside her head before looking back up. “I’m not your mom, ___. You do what you want, you go out with whoever you want.”
That wasn’t all. “But…?”
She sighed. “But, as your friend, I’m worried,” Yongsun admitted, the wooden spoon sliding between her fingers, bumping on the bottom of the pot. Her body relaxed all at once, glad that she was putting those words out. “You probably know why, maybe the same reason why you didn’t say anything to any of us. Jungkook isn’t really the best dude around and he’s just so… so much.” She shook her head. “You know the things people say about him, right? Do you really think it’s a good idea to get involved?”
You licked your lips, taking a moment to think about your following words. You had imagined that conversation a billion times in your head, but it seemed otherwise from the way you were reacting. “I know what people say, but most of it isn’t true,” you told her. “Of course, he’s far from perfect. So am I. And I know it sounds really dumb and cliche when I say this, but he’s a really nice guy. He treats me well.”
With a quick movement, she turned off the stove, reaching for the pot lid. “I have no doubt about that, girl. I told you that you seemed happy and I meant it,” she said. Her shoulders fell and you couldn’t really figure out what her expression meant. “___, I just… I don’t want you to get carried away by someone that isn’t worth it. You have so much ahead of you, I would hate to see you getting heartbroken or even just distracted because of him.”
You placed one hand on her arm. “Yongsun, believe me when I say that I get it. A hundred percent,” you stressed. “We’ve both been in this… back and forth for a long time now. Exactly because I was thinking the same thing, and I was terrified I was doing something stupid that would end badly. But Jungkook’s great, really.” You breathed out. “I know it’s hard to believe that, it took me some time too. But I’m serious. There’s nothing to be worried about.”
Against your best expectations, your small speech actually managed to settle her worries for now. Yongsun breathed out, relieved. “Good, okay,” she said. “Why didn’t you tell me anything?”
You swallowed dry. “I was worried about what you guys would say. It’s dumb, I know,” you admitted. “And I guess I was lying to myself too.”
She nodded, taking a glimpse at the pot of food. You still had no clue what it was, but, at that point, that was the smallest of your concerns. “You know I’m a black belt in karate, right?” She asked randomly. “I can kick his ass if you want.”
You laughed, finally allowing yourself to relax. “I’ll keep that in mind,” you guaranteed. You felt much lighter now, and you could tell that she was going through the same. You didn’t know how much that secret had been killing you inside until you finally let it loose. “Thank you for understanding, Yongsun. I was afraid you and Jisoo would hate me for it.”
She shook her head, a puff of air leaving her nose. “Honestly, girl, I don’t understand it. At all. But I trust you,” she stressed. That was probably the best scenario you could get out of that. “I can’t guarantee that Jisoo will have the same reaction, though. She hates the guy.”
Oddly enough, having Yongsun speaking your worries out loud didn’t affect you as much as you had expected. Jisoo had been the central line that connected the web of anxiety inside your head and, yet, she seemed like a distant issue now. She was your best friend and you loved her to death, that hadn’t changed a bit, and still, your perspective had switched enough for you to notice that she was probably the least qualified person in the world to judge you for your impulsive actions. Not when you had to take care of her in Hoseok’s party because she couldn’t make her own decisions; because she was afraid of the social backlash of placing her own limits. And, ironically, you were doing the same thing when it came to her.
You had already reached a conclusion about what to do about it. “I’ll tell her after summer break,” you shared your idea, “I think she’ll understand if I talk to her about it. Or at least she won’t be so mad about it.”
“That might work.” Yongsun nodded, thinking for a second. “Well, it’s better than if she figures it out by herself. She’d be really upset.”
Upset was an understatement, but whatever. “Yeah, that’d be the worst case scenario, but it won’t happen,” you were firm in your words. “I’m like a pro at sneaking around.”
Her expression was washed by disbelief. Yongsun scoffed, grabbing a towel nearby so she could remove the pot from the stove. “Girl, I disagree,” she said, walking towards the kitchen table. She was a small girl, but her cooking superpowers worked wonders when it came to transporting food around. “I’ve heard too much.”
You paused, unable to fight the smile that grew on your lips. “Oh… yeah, that was on purpose.”
The pot almost tipped over (which would have undoubtedly been a catastrophe) when Yongsun dropped it on the table, surprised. “What?!” She exclaimed, horrified.
You waved her worries away. “Long story,” you said.
She shook her head, possessed by chaos. “No, girl, you’re not going to zoom past that like you didn’t just say it. It's dinner time and you’re not running away from my yakisoba.” Oh so that was what the food was. Yongsun pointed at one of the chairs while she walked towards the other. “Sit your ass down. You have months of gossip to tell me.”
You raised one eyebrow. “During dinner?” You asked. “Are you sure?”
She huffed. “I have a strong stomach. Go ahead, try me.”
You shrugged, sitting down. To be fair, she didn’t know what she was asking for. “Fine. What do you want to know?”
Spoiler: Yongsun did not have a strong stomach.
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the allure of darkness | the darkling
The line between good and bad has blurred for her. Her every thought now is him; his gentle touch and hungry kiss, his whispered confessions in the dark. All she can think about is the both of them, stronger and more powerful than anything together.
word count: 4k
pairing: The Darkling x Sun Summoner!female reader
warnings: NSFW 18+ content, fxm unprotected sex, slight sub/dom dynamics (sub!reader), use of his real name, mentions of food and alcohol
a/n: honestly, just a couple of *lovesick* idiots getting down and dirty with a corruption arc for the reader, because what is hotter than being evil together? absolutely nothing. I do have a soft spot for the villains, so I had a bit of fun letting my mind run free with this. it’s all in good fun. p.s. this is on ao3 as a darklina fic if you’d rather read that!
There’s few things in the world she loves more than waking up next to him, she recalls — wrapped in his black silk sheets, safe in his embrace, his naked body tangled up with hers, her head on his chest. She adores the few minutes they share before they both get out of bed and get on with their daily duties, when the sun has barely risen and the palace hasn’t woken up yet; the world seemingly still and quiet, just for them. She cherishes those moments where his walls are down, where he’s comfortable with showing the most vulnerable parts of him to her.
At the beginning of their relationship, she had to try very hard to not send everyone and everything to hell and just run around the palace looking for him like a mad woman everyday. Most of the time now, when she’s training with the other Grisha or having lunch with them at the domed hall, she’s distracted enough to not think about him too much; but any spare second that she gets, all she can think about is nighttime, longing for the sun to finally set so she can see him again, be in his arms again.
When she does get to see him during the day, it’s somehow worse. The hours pass slowly and feel excruciatingly long, and painful, when she’s forced to watch him from afar. Watch as he discusses war matters, pacing across the room, strutting around the palace with that dignified smirk and grey slate eyes, as handsome as the devil. It takes everything in her to not run to him and kiss him hard against the wall in front of everyone.
Now, as she makes her way to his chambers to join him for dinner, she can’t help her mind from wandering to thoughts of last night. She can perfectly recall the feel of his stubble on her inner thighs, his head between her legs; his cheeks flushed and his eyes pooled with desire as he stared up at her and drove her to the edge of insanity with every lap of his skilled tongue. She hasn’t been able to think about anything else the whole day. Nadia and Marie had even pointed out that she seemed more distracted than usual. She’d tried to brush it off, but she has to admit that the prospect of someone finding out about her little encounters with the general is sort of exciting.
She finally reaches his quarters at the end of the long hallway, knocking on his door briefly, but making her way in unannounced as always. She closes the door behind her soundlessly, to find him already waiting for her, sitting by the fireplace at a small dining table, dinner for the both of them laid out in front of him.
“Aleksander,” she speaks. She knows how much he adores hearing his name coming out of her mouth and how delicately she says it, with so much intention and so carefully, like a whispered secret.
He turns around at the sound of her voice, and a smile spreads across his face when he sees her. He doesn’t say anything. Instead, he gets up from his seat, quickly crossing the room to her in long strides, and places his hands on her cheeks, pulling her to him into a hungry kiss. It’s merely the press of his lips to hers, but it’s starved and passionate, like he’s been waiting for it as much as she has. She melts into his embrace, all of the tension and the longing from the day evaporating into thin air as their bodies collide.
“I’ve been dying to see you the whole day,” he says, his eyes meeting hers in the warm lamplight of the room. “Come, sit with me.”
He takes her hand in his and guides her to sit down at the table, moving his seat so he’s next to her instead of across, his fingers still interlocked with hers. “Dinner?”
As much as she’d rather do other things than sit patiently and have her dinner, she has to admit she’s famished. Her training sessions have been so intense lately, leaving her whole body trembling with power and an immense thirst for more afterwards. “I’m starving.” she says, trying to make her underlying intentions clear through the suggestive tone of her voice.
He smiles that damned half-smirk of his, and ignoring her cheeky comment, reaches for the bottle of kvas on the table, pouring the cool, clear liquid into small glasses for the both of them. “How was training? I hear you’re making big advances.”
“I think I am. I can feel myself getting stronger. It feels good.”
“Of course it does. It’s what you were born for, Y/N. There’s no one else like you.”
She smiles. His words always seem to stir something in her, always seem to surprise her. He’s not one to give compliments for free, but he’s made sure she knows he truly means everything he always says to her. There was a time where she wouldn’t have known how to respond or maybe even believed it, but his flattery feels good. She even feels smug about it. She likes it when he praises her; even more when he’s whispering it in her ear, preferably with him on top of her, deep inside her.
“You look beautiful, by the way. This is new.” he points out, brushing his fingers against the golden embroiders of her sleeve. She is, in fact, wearing a brand new kefta made of pure black silk, embroidered with intricate curling patterns stitched with real gold thread and small black beads that glint under the light. She can recall the look on his face the first time he’d seen her wearing his color, when she first realized she loved the way he always looks at her, like she’s a ray of sunshine breaking through a stormy sky.
Everything changed between them that night in the war room, the first night they’d shared together. With every touch, every caress, every kiss and every whispered confession, he awoke something in her — something between them. Unlocked some mystical thing from the very depths of their souls that had been dormant for so very long. It felt as if everything had fallen into place and finally, finally, they were together once again, as if they’d been separated in some other lifetime and had been looking for one another this whole time. Suddenly, everything made sense. And now, it’s like he’s all over her. Like she can feel his presence everywhere, as if she carries a piece of him with her at all times.
“I missed you. I couldn’t stop thinking about you today. About last night.” she confesses, looking at him with an eager look in her eyes, not able to keep up the banter any longer. Her mind is clouded with desire already, and the longing she’s felt the whole day overpowers anything else.
His gaze meets hers, and she’s at a loss for words as she sees his grey eyes darken in the dim light of the fire. He slowly sets down his glass of kvas, his jaw clenched tight as he turns to her. In a sudden movement, he pulls her onto his lap, smashing his lips against hers. He whispers her name into her mouth, his hands around her waist holding her in place and pulling her closer to him.
It takes everything in her to not explode into a blazing light at his words, his touch sending a wave of surety and undiluted power through her. Exhilarating. That’s what his kiss feels like. She feels like she’s found herself, like she belongs somewhere. Next to him. She loves that feeling, and she can’t get enough of it. She’s gone her whole life feeling alone and out of place, never enough for anyone or anything, but she knows this is where she’s meant to be. In his arms.
His tongue swipes at her bottom lip, demanding entrance, and she opens her mouth, giving herself to him and allowing him to take as much from her as he wishes. She moans deeply as his tongue brushes against hers, hot and heavy in a passionate fight. His lips move down her neck, sucking over her pulse and the sweet spot under her ear. She shivers under his mouth, his strong hands moving down her back to place themselves on her bottom, squishing hard as he pulls her closer to his body. She runs her hands through his soft hair, her fingers pulling at it lightly, playing with the strands of dark hair at the nape of his neck, earning a grunt of pleasure from him.
She can feel him growing hard and hot under her, pressing into her center, desperate to be released from his tight pants. She rolls her hips needily against his, whining at the little friction it creates against her core. It’s not nearly enough. Her fingers descend from his hair to his chest, fumbling with the metallic clasps of his kefta, eager to get him out of his clothes and on top of her as soon as possible. He removes the garment, peeling it off his body and mindlessly tossing it away to some corner of the room, his lips never leaving hers.
He stands up from his seat harshly then, pulling her with him, her legs wrapped around his torso and his hands on her back supporting her. With one arm, he swipes everything laying on the table away, plates and dishes scattering to the floor and smashing loudly. She’s too consumed in his kiss to even acknowledge it as he sits her on top of the table, his hips hard against hers as he settles in the space between her legs. “Mine,” he grunts out into her mouth as he kisses her again, more eager and aggressive this time.
I am yours, she thinks. As you are mine. He smirks out of nowhere into their kiss, and for a moment she thinks he might actually be able to hear her thoughts now. She wouldn’t be surprised by how strong their connection feels.
He’s shown her what lies in the darkness, so alluring and enchanting and eye-opening, and in exchange, she’s paved a sunlit path for him, where they can stand together, stronger than ever and more powerful than anything that has ever graced the earth before their time. In such a short time, she has become his sunlight, his light in the dark, his warmth in the cold, his clarity. He aches for her, and he loves her, and he can say it now with surety because he can feel it, deep in his bones and heavy in his chest. After so many years, he can finally say he’s found his missing piece.
His kisses travel down her neck and over her clavicle, kissing and licking and nipping anywhere his mouth can get a hold of. His skilled fingers make quick work of the buttons of her black kefta, undoing all the fasteners and ribbons tying the garment together, eager to feel more of her skin under his hands.
His touch is starved, greedy, insatiable. He can’t get enough, never nearly enough. He claims what is his and so does she, feeding off of each other like ravenous creatures that have been in the dark, alone and afraid for way too long - now free and ready to succumb to each other, be one another’s, become one in the most intimate of senses; bound in mind, soul and body. Both as one. Equal. Like day and night or light and dark. Balanced, and in perfect harmony, but powerful all the same. He’d give her anything she asks of him and in this moment, she’s sure she’d do the same for him.
“More,” she moans into his mouth. “I want more.” He smirks, his hand traveling down her body, bunching up her skirt. His hands slither under it, his fingers wiggling their way up and between her legs. His whole hand closes around her upper thigh, dangerously close to where she needs him the most, his thumb drawing slow and deliberate patterns on her skin. He draws lazy circles over the thin material of her underwear before his hand slips past it. His fingers graze her clit for just a moment before they move down to circle her entrance, spreading the wetness around. Her head is hot and fuzzy and she’s pulsating, the throbbing emptiness between her legs driving her crazy. She’s aching for him, soaking and desperate for him to fill her up.
“Aleksander,” she whines softly once more when he dips just the tip of his finger inside her, enough to shake her whole body, her walls contracting around nothing as he teases her. Her eyes fall shut with pleasure as two of his long fingers sink inside her, brushing up against her walls, slowly, all the way up to his knuckles and pressing down into that right spot that makes her back arch. His fingers are deep inside her, moving in and out of her at a steady pace, grazing all the right places with the perfect amount of pressure.
It’s like he knows her body like the palm of his hand, knows what makes her tick, what sends her over the edge. What has her begging for him. He pumps his fingers quicker, deeper, responding to what her body is telling him; giving her what she wants, what she’s asking of him without any words. She moans, mouth hanging open, and he can feel the vibrations of the sound on her throat under his mouth. His lips close over her pulse, sucking wet kisses, his teeth nipping at her flesh, breaking through the skin and surely leaving a mark — a faint memory and reminder of their nights spent together.
“I want you,” she says. She can’t think of anything else, she just wants him, all of him, now. Or she’ll go insane. “Please.” He slides his fingers out of her and she whines at the emptiness she feels already. He sticks them in his mouth then, basking in the flavour of her on his tongue with a happy expression.
“I want you in my bed,” he says, that damned half-smile of his appearing on his face, and goes in for another kiss, meeting her lips with fervor and lust, taking as much as he can before he picks her up again, carrying them both to his bedroom and placing her gently on his bed. The black satin sheets feel cool against her flushed body, sending a shiver down her spine as he settles between her legs once more, backing her up against the headboard, her hair spread out on his pillows.
He helps her out of her remaining clothes in a comfortable silence and between playful kisses. Once they’re done, his hands find her breast, giving her a little squeeze before pinching her nipple lightly between his thumb and index finger, a whimper leaving her lips. One of his hands travels down her bare body, the skin prickling underneath and waking up under his touch. As his fingers dance across her abdomen, inching closer and closer to her center, his touches light as a feather, she feels that feeling of surety again. So familiar, so distinct, so perfectly him. He calls for her, like some beast howling for its mate. Like calls to like. And she responds. By throwing her head back in ecstasy from how good he’s making her feel with barely the graze of his fingers.
As much as he longs for her, he’s still a patient man, his kisses and touches slow and deliberate, each so preciously and perfectly laid in place. He always takes his time with her, to savour her, to learn every little crevice of her body, night by night; slowly, tentatively, like they both have all the time in the world. And they do. They are eternal. The thought of a forever next to him has her trembling in anticipation, her stomach doing a dozen somersaults at the prospect of multiple lifetimes of this. Of him, and his lips, and his hands, and his boyish smile that’s only reserved for her; his smokey voice and misty eyes; his softly spoken words and his smirk, and his power.
He notices she’s squirming around, bucking up her hips, trying to draw pleasure out of nowhere to ease the throb between her legs as he takes his time undressing himself. He smirks at how desperate she is for him, catching one of her legs in his hand and wrapping it around his torso, settling himself on top of her. “Let me take care of you,” he says in a low, deep voice.
He gives himself a few tugs before he aligns with her entrance, running his tip through her wet folds and spreading her arousal around. He hisses through his teeth at the feeling and finally decides to end the teasing, slowly pushing into her, easing in slickly and filling her up inch by inch, like a perfect fit. A moan gets caught in her throat as he starts moving, thrusting into her at an excruciatingly slow rhythm, lacing his fingers with hers. She swears she’s going to lose her mind if he keeps up this slow torture.
It’s one of those nights where he prefers to take his time with her, to discover her and listen to her body and how it responds to him. He keeps pushing into her, keeping up his tortuous pace, his hips snapping against hers as he clings desperately to her, grabbing harshly at her thighs wrapped around his middle and just about anywhere he can get his hands on. He seems to be as drunk on her as she is on him, his face buried on the crook of her neck, his teeth sinking on her flesh, a broken moan caught in his throat. Her moans have him coming undone, and she revels in the knowledge of no one being able to get a reaction like that out of him but her.
She can feel his hot breath on her neck as he pumps into her, again and again, hitting that sweet spot inside her that makes her eyes roll back and see the stars. He’s panting and groaning into her ear, eager whispers of her name leaving his lips that only manage to drive her closer and closer to the edge of insanity. His whole body is pressed against hers, she can feel every little crevice of him, every bit of skin touching, sending coursing waves of electricity through her whole body. She can barely hold the smile creeping on her face.
“Say you’ll rule by my side. Say that you will. For me.” he whispers in her ear.
“Aleksander,” she moans at a loss for words. She can’t even make sense of what he’s telling her, her thoughts too clouded with lust and passion and pleasure and the pure desire she feels for him.
“Say you’ll be my queen.”
“I will. I’m yours.” She would stand by his side and watch the world burn if it meant she could have him. If it meant they could be together forever.
She used to care about doing the right thing, being good. It’s what she’d always been taught. To be a good little girl — quiet and delicate, giving and polite. But the line between good and bad had blurred for her months ago. She’d blinked and suddenly, she wasn't really sure of what was right or wrong. Once she’d gotten a taste of his darkness, his power, and her power, she didn’t want anything else. Greed is the Saint she worships now. She wants more, always more, and he’s willing to give it to her.
He’d confessed his true intentions to her under the willow tree by the lake, the moonlight illuminating his features in a beautiful glow; his hand cupping her cheek delicately, a sincere look in his eyes. In a moment of honesty, he’d told her his real name, his true identity, and had allowed himself to show her a piece of his broken soul. He’d looked so beautiful then — so human, and yet, so out of this world.
But everything he’d told her had made so much sense to her. He’d suffered so much, seen so much, lived countless lifetimes bearing the biggest burden and doing everything he could to protect his people. She could help him. If she stood by his side, Grisha would never have to hide away anymore, they would never have to hide. They would become the most powerful creatures to ever grace the earth. Together, invincible. So she’d given in. She’d kissed him under the moonlight then as if her life depended on it.
They are meant to be together, to rule together, and she knows that now. No one can understand her like he can, and no one can complete him like she can. The burden they carry is theirs to bear, but at least they have each other, and that is enough.
And now as he moves his hand down between their bodies, rubbing tight and quick circles against her clit, and hits a very sensitive spot inside her, she feels it coming. Feels herself falling off the edge. Pure, undiluted power coursing through her in waves of bright electricity. The room spins, or maybe it’s her head, she’s not really sure. She’s somewhere else, with him, far away from the room. She’s never felt something like it. A connection so strong, so obvious, so tangible. So palpable, hanging in the air between them like a field of energy. At that moment, it feels like something in the universe shifts and rearranges, something that’s been off falls right back into place.
He comes right after her with a plea of her name on his lips, and it’s evident he’s feeling the same way she is, his knuckles white, his mouth hanging open and eyes shut tight as he cums inside her. She feels the warmth of his release, warm and sticky, dripping down her inner thigh as he pulls out of her after what feels like full minutes to her, leaving her feeling physically empty but oddly more complete than before. She feels the weight of him being lifted off her as he lays down on the bed beside her, pulling her body towards him and into a tangle of arms and legs, his naked chest pressed to hers as he pecks her lips lightly.
This is what he is. How he makes her feel. Absolutely alive. They discovered pretty quickly how his amplifying abilities heightened everything between them, and needless to say, they’ve taken full advantage of it so far. He always leaves her feeling radiant and energized, her skin prickling with electricity and an unexplainable glow that seems to never leave now. This is where she feels the safest - in his bed, with him. His darkness is alluring, it engulfs her and wraps around her like a blanket of safety. It assures her that he’s there, and he’s never leaving, and she wouldn’t trade it for a thousand suns.
“Sleep, my love.” He whispers, placing a kiss on her hair, his voice sweet and smooth like rivers of honey.
And with that, she closes her eyes, ready to be enveloped in his comforting shadows, content with his beautiful face being the last thing she sees before she drifts off into sleep; her head on his chest, feeling the steady rising and falling of his breathing, his heart beating fondly in perfect rhythm with hers. Two lost souls destined to find each other, to be together, colliding in on each other like an eclipse, and falling into perfect harmony, finally.
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“tuna with mayo.” inumaki says, his voice excited to be standing in front of you, and he knows you can’t see it, not behind his mask, but whenever he sees you, he can never hold himself back from smiling.
you blink, quite unsure of what to do with the words just said to you, and you try to keep confusion from arising in your face.
it’s been a really long day, and the last thing you need is this oddly white haired boy (with a very intimidating green haired girl by his side) to actually order fish with mayonnaise.
fish with mayonnaise in a café.
“sorry,” you smile, polite, “we don’t have that here.”
and you watch as the boy in front of you, face covered with a black mask and all, nod his head, the tips of his ears turning a dark hue of pink.
“that’s not what he meant.” the girl beside him tells you, the corners of her lips turning slightly upwards, and you feel much comfortable with her presence.
the two of them — they make an odd pair.
you tilt your head, “sorry?”
and inumaki shakes his head, his eyes intently following your every move, and he says, his voice shy, “shake.”
(now, you’re even more confused.)
“ignore him.” maki tells you, and her attention is all the way back to the menu above your head.
inumaki keeps his glance on you still, the tips of his ears along with the rest of his face stained with an unwashable color of pink, and his eyes perk up when he sees you finally look back at him again.
his voice is excited, “salmon!”
and you look at him, blinking, “this is a café.”
and his shoulders fall again, the smile reaching his eyes dimming, and you honestly feel like those weren’t the words you were supposed to reply with.
you feel like you’re being pranked right now, because what in the hell is going on?
maki nods finally, shrugging her shoulders, and she looks back at you, “he’ll just have what i’m having.”
and inumaki nods, silently by her side, “shake.”
“right,” you jot down their orders, still a bit loopy from the weird conversation, “i’m sorry, it’s just been a really busy day.”
and maki tells you, “no worries.” her voice stoic, but gentle enough to make you feel better.
her friend, inumaki (as she’s told you), has left her side now to get them a table, and a part of you’s relieved that his intense gaze is gone, but another still feels the guilt of having shot him down.
(not that you’d know, he said “shake” and you’re supposed to say what? “blender!”, you’re going to have a headache.)
“he comes here every chance he gets, you know.” maki’s voice pulls you from your thoughts.
“does he?” you smile, keeping polite conversation as you punch in her order, “this is my first week on register, so i don’t really notice a lot of the customers.”
and she nods, handing you a piece of tissue paper with the money to pay for the drinks.
“he’s weird.” she tells you, her shoulders rising.
you laugh, “i think he seems nice.”
“he is.” she nods, “but he’s still weird.”
you hand her her receipt, and she makes her way back to the table where inumaki signals for her return.
you catch his glance by a second, his eyes crinkling with a smile, the edges of his ears still a hot pink, and you think it’s fine when you send him back a small wave.
maki turns to you, “he thinks you’re cute.”
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So I’m putting this out here right now with the whole new Post+ thing tumblr is doing because some of you in fanfic don’t know about the shit that Anne Rice and a bunch of authors and production corporations pulled on fanfiction back around 2012 and even before that, but DO NOT put any of your fanfiction behind a paywall. DO NOT put fanwork up under Post+ because you can be sued for copyright violations.
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flirting with the clone troopers
I got bored and wrote a thing. Please enjoy my short little drabble on what flirting with the clone troopers would be like. It’s trash but it’s my trash <3
tagged: @morganas-pendragons, @daylightanakin
Obi-Wan had playfully labeled you a menace to the GAR. You didn’t blame him, but you wanted to throw it back in his face that he was just as bad as you were. The only difference was that you seemed unable to differentiate when it was entirely appropriate to be the outright flirt that you were.
In front of the other Generals in the middle of a briefing? Perfect time to tell Commander Neyo how great his thighs looked in that kama.
On the field in the heat of battle watching troopers toss spears literally through people? “Well now Captain Rex, what mighty strong arms you have.” *wink wink nudge nudge*
One time you and Commander Fox had been force thrown across a room only for you to land on top of him and it just slipped out naturally: “you know, all the times I’ve thought about being in this exact position with you, I never imagined it starting out like this.” He plays off the choking sound he makes as being injured from the hit you two just took.
Domino Squad are by far the most fun to flirt with because they don’t hesitate in the slightest to flirt right back.
Fives has got to be the worst of them all.
Seriously he has zero game but all the confidence of a man who does.
You absolutely love it.
Even when you’re injured and Kix is trying to stitch you up you can’t seem to hold yourself back.
“Alright General, lay down and let me work my magic-” “Kix, how unprofessional of you! And right here, in front of the others?” Anakin has never facepalmed so hard in his life. Kix’s face has never looked so red. You’ve never laughed so hard. It gets worse.
“I- ugh- you’re gonna need to- I need-” “Use your words Kix, c’mon man I’m bleeding out here.” That was a lie, but the gash on the inside of your thigh was pretty gross looking. “I need to be in between your legs.” You comply with ease and put on a shit-eating grin. “I hope you know I’ve dreamt about you saying those exact words- OW, Kix be gentle!”
The responses you get from the clones vary. Some of them openly flirt back, others get extremely flustered which is sweet to watch.
One time you were at 79’s hanging out with the 212th when some of the newer troopers walked in with the 501st and you couldn’t restrain yourself from sauntering on over. “How’s your night going boys, why don’t you introduce me to the shinies?”
Fives smirks and throws Tup into the deep end on this one. You reach up and tug at the troopers long hair just slightly, which makes him blush hardcore. “Go easy on him, love, you’re gonna give the poor guy a heart attack.” “I promise I’ll be gentle. Unless of course you ask me not to be.” Fives rolls his eyes and tells Tup not to take you too seriously and that you’re like this with all the troopers.
He was right, of course.
Some of them genuinely make your heart melt though.
For instance, Echo is a sweetheart. It doesn’t matter what you throw at him.
“Well now, don’t you look handsome in your new arc trooper armor.” “Nothing compared to how gorgeous you look every day, darling.”
“Keep saying things like that and you’re gonna make me fall in love, Echo.” “I could never be worthy of you, beautiful.”
And some, like Jesse, are just too smooth. It's genuinely impressive.
“What’s cooking good looking?” “Me for you tonight, what do you say doll?” “Please, you couldn’t handle me.” “Babe, I don’t think anyone could, doesn’t mean I wouldn’t want to try.” You nearly blushed at that one.
One time you fell over and he caught you before you could hit the ground and both you minds went to the same place. “Falling for me, cyare?” “What can I say, you’ve got me all tripped up.”
Some of them even surprised you.
Like Crosshair, from the self proclaimed bad batch. Who during a mission actually gave you a run for your credits.
“How am I looking from up there, Cross?” “Oh, just stunning, love.” “Even all sweaty and gross from fighting all these clankers?” “You kidding? I think you look better than ever like this.” “Well aren’t you just such a flirt.” A shot rings next to your ear, the droid behind you falling to the ground before it could get to you. “Pot. Kettle.”
Master Windu never failed to remind you of how inappropriate it was for you to say such things in public. Master Yoda and Plo just laughed.
Secretly Master Plo was hoping one day Wolffe would work up the nerve to do anything but stutter an incomprehensible response but the clone commander was a wreck the second you open your mouth.
Seriously Wolffe cannot flirt, he has no idea what to do or say back. It’s adorable.
Like the time you asked him “is this seat taken?” and pointed at his lap with a sly smirk on your face. He wanted to make a witty comment back but all that came out was “wha-huh-uhm-” and you just chuckled, telling him you were just joking before sitting down next to him.
Master Plo had to step out of the room to laugh for a minute.
Sometimes you were stationed to protect the Chancellor which meant spending a lot of time with the Coruscant Guard. They were relentless in their flirtations, by far the most charming clones you’d ever met. Even Commander Fox had his moments, when he wasn’t being so serious.
Hound was probably the worst of the worst. He had you laughing so hard you at times that it physically hurt.
At one point you’d been reamed out by the Chancellor and retreated into your head. Hound noticed, and with the most serious expression, took your face in between his hands and in the most serious voice he could muster said: “I will kill him for you my sweet angel, just give me the word.”
Fox’s eyes widen and he’s got a playful glare on his face, not as upset at that statement as you thought he’d be, “Hound, you can’t -”
Hound’s eyes don’t leave yours, “I’ll kill him too.”
And lets not get started on when you and Obi-Wan were sent on missions together.
“Cody, darling, you wouldn’t happen to have the time would you?”
“Cody, sweetheart, you’re doing such a wonderful job at killing those clankers!”
“Cody, love, your butt looks fantastic in that armor-”
“You can’t just say that over public comms!”
“You were thinking it, I was just saying it out loud, Obi-Wan!”
And you’re all time favorite: “Cody, that armor looks great on you, you know where it would look better? On the floor of Obi-Wan’s room.” “Are you hitting on Cody for me?”
Some of the clones had even placed bets and wagers on who could get you to slip up and become flustered.
You definitely appreciated the attempts.
Some of them had definitely come close though.
Like Commander Doom, who you danced with at 79s one night and had to run into the bathroom to splash some water on your face because holy kriff where did that man learn that kind of language. It was actually kind of impressive. And no you would absolutely not be repeating it to anyone except maybe to Obi-Wan over tea the next day in the confines of his room where no one else could hear either of you gossiping.
Or Sergeant Hunter of the 99th, who met your quips line for line. You didn’t know how but you were pretty sure he knew exactly what to say to make you almost blush.
“You can’t just take out an entire battalion of clankers on your own and not expect me to fall in love with you.” “That’s the goal, Sarge. How’d you know I was just trying to impress you?” “Call it a sixth sense.” “You think the force is trying to tell us something?” “I don’t need to force to tell me how irresistible you are.” “Be still my beating heart.”
And as much as it irritated the other General’s of the GAR, the clones genuinely appreciated the sense of normalcy it gave them. Sure it was all jokes but most spent so much time fighting that the brief moments of flirtation were a distraction from the shit show going on around them.
And besides, it wasn’t your fault they were so damn good looking.
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when you wear their hoodie; mcyt x reader
the widest smile spreads onto his face
the possessive side of him comes out to show when he hugs you - to him, this shows that you're his
“how can you possibly be this cute?”
george halts and just stares before giggling lightly with that big smile on his face; “is that my hoodie?”
likes seeing you in his hoodies more than he thought. plus, he sees it as a great opportunity to show off his merch😎
oh, he totally teases you about it
“you’re an actual thief, y/n.” and then he proceeds to tackle you in a bear hug
he do be giving mixed signals
“y/n! warn me next time when showing up looking this adorable ^-^.”
keeps poking at your sides and just looking at you with big eyes ‘cause he thinks you're super cute in his clothes
plays it off cool, but as always, he is DYING on the inside
“you could've just told me if you were cold…”
he will end up cuddling with you later because “you might end up getting cold again, and he can't let that happen.”
“lil baby! lil’ baby boo!”
he literally goes on with this for HOURS
keeps poking your cheeks and randomly smiling at you for the rest of the day
“if you don't get over here right now, I’m gonna have to drag you over here.”
sounds serious and looks it, but when you come over to him, he’s all cuddles and kisses, inhaling the scent you’ve spread onto his hoodie
his insides flip upside down
just the way the hoodie sleeves go over your hands- shfsjhfjh it has him shaking from cuteness
“you're so cute,” he’d say and leave you with a forehead kiss.
he literally freaks out and can't even react properly with words
“cute” is all he says, and then he’s wrapping his arms around you, swinging you from side to side
he’ll be clinging onto you for the rest of the day
“baby, literally stop, you're the cutest.”
drops everything to go over and ruffle your hair up, and then pull the hood over your head
seeing you in his hoodie warms his heart
“are you trying to take my brand from me?”
mainly he just jokes around with you, but he definitely thinks it looks good on you
his eyes widen, and if he’s holding something, you best believe he’s gonna drop it
“what’s this then?”
grabs you by the waist and kisses your nose
rubs his chin slowly, looking you up and down
“damn, babe. you can have my whole closet if you want it.”
makes you sit on his lap for the entire time he’s streaming
simp hours; open
“c’mere baby. I want a closer look.”
he only says that so he can get you close enough to pull you into his embrace and keep you there
he literally runs up to wrap his arms tightly around your body, lifting you up in the air and swinging you around
“never. take. it off.”
holds your hand under the sleeve a lot
moves closer to inspect you
“you're… wearing my hoodie?”
feels so proud of himself and will remember this moment forever
“ahhhh, that's mine!”
gets super excited, and grabs a matching one so he can match with you!
hugs you a lot
he is so fucking proud of himself and will never stop speaking of this moment
takes so many pictures and videos of you when you're cuddling together
just to have them saved for later
time stands still for him for a moment, trying to recall if you had a hoodie exactly the same as his, or if it is okay for him to freak out about this
and so he does
but he is lowkey clingy for the rest of the day, so it’s definitely had an effect on him
“awh, y/n. you looks so cute :(”
swings his arm around your shoulders to pull you into him with a sweet smile on his face
fiddles a lot with the sleeves and your fingers
“wow, can't believe I'm dating a criminal.” (because you stole his hoodie)
jokes with you about it, but really, he finds it super cute that you would just naturally wear his hoodie
pulls at the hood strings to make your face disappear behind the hood
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Is it okay if I ask for headcons of Mikey, Draken and Baji would react with a sweet innocent S/O(the reader can be any gender you wish to write) who look like would not hurt a fly but when the reader heard some punk talking shit about the boys, the reader went feral and attack them?
sano manjiro [mikey], ryuguji ken [draken] and keisuke baji with a kind s/o who beat someone up for them: headcanons
[𖤐] hello hello anon! thank you so much for requesting this, it was super fun to write! [sorry, but this title is really weird to me, idk why ugh it looks odd like??] i probably could have made these a bit more lengthy, but alas, i am tired :^) i also apologize for any spelling or grammar mistakes!! it's 3:04 am for me bc i was writing since i couldn't sleep :0 hope you enjoy these!!
sano manjiro [mikey]:
✂︎ mikey had always known that you probably got shit from other students at school sometimes because you were dating him; he had never really minded that they were talking about him. he’d always been used to being talked about behind his back because of his position as toman’s leader, so it wasn’t issue. the issue that he had was that you had to deal with other students gossiping about you because of him.
✂︎ because of this, he would try to be very lowkey whenever he would visit you, and he wouldn’t come to your class to take you out. you’re the kindest soul he knows, and he hates the fact that you have to go through something like that because of him.
✂︎ he’d asked you about it a couple of times, and you had always said that you “took care of it”. you’d never really elaborated, and he had figured that you were just saying that so that you wouldn’t worry about him.
✂︎ nonetheless, he would notice how some certain students would look at you when he would come to pick you up at certain times. they’d be shooed off with a slight glare from him, but he had no idea how you managed it when you were by yourself.
✂︎ after a while of this, he’d had enough, and was going to ask you seriously about it during your lunch period. once he arrived at your school and went to your classroom, he was surprised to see that you weren’t in your usual seat. after asking a couple of the nearby students, they said that you had went outside in the back of the school to eat lunch.
✂︎ before mikey could turn the corner in going to the back of the school, he started to hear voices.
✂︎ “you think you’re so much better than us, just because you’re dating some little wimp named mikey?? ‘the invincible mikey’ my ass, i’ll do whatever the hell i want! so give me your fuckin’ wallet! i wonder how ‘the invincible mikey’ will react when he finds out his precious (y/n)-chan got-”
✂︎ just as mikey was about to step in and beat up the people who were bothering you, he heard a grunt of pain, and the sound of fighting. while he thought it was you who was getting beat up, the sight he saw when he looked around the corner was one to behold.
✂︎ “that’s sano-san to you, you fuckin’ scum. who do you think you are, to be talking about him like that? you think you could beat him? you think because you're all high and mighty that you can go around, saying shit like that!? you’re not even worth the dirt on the bottom of his shoe, so don’t ever think about even speaking to me about this again.”
✂︎ the four guys who had been “talking” to you were now on the ground, all clutching their crotch area as they groaned in pain, with you standing above them, an extremely ticked off look on your face.
✂︎ the shock on mikey’s face was extremely evident. he never would have thought that you would be the type of person who would say or do something like that, not that he was disappointed or unhappy about it. no, he was extremely impressed that you were able to do something like that all by yourself.
✂︎ the look on your face melted away into an exasperated one as you picked up your wrapped bento that you had placed on the ground and started to walk away, mumbling to yourself about what a waste of time that was.
✂︎ “i never would’ve thought i would ever hear you talk like that, or fight like that!” you froze up at the familiar voice from behind you, turning around and hoping it wasn’t who you thought it was.
✂︎ lo and behold, it was mikey, looking at you with a proud look on his face.
✂︎ “w-wait, this isn’t what it looks like! ahm…”
✂︎ he just laughed and came up to you, his hand settling on your head with a smile on his face.
✂︎ “and to think i was worried about you! you really kicked some ass; that’s my s/o!!” your panic melted away at his words, and you looked to the side, now a bit embarrassed that he had witnessed you doing something like that.
✂︎ “ah...thank you mikey.”
ryuguji ken [draken]:
✂︎ he never really visited you while you were in class, so draken didn’t know about the rumors about himself for a while. you had never told him or given him any reason to worry, so he had never really asked about whether or not there was people at your school who didn’t like you because of him, (or perhaps just didn’t like him).
✂︎ the first time he had noticed it was when he was waiting outside on his bike for you after your classes were over. he saw some groups of people looking at him, but he wasn’t paying attention to what they were saying until he heard them say your name.
✂︎ he couldn’t hear much, but the bits he heard about you and himself was enough for him. once you joined him on his bike, at the first stop-light, he asked you why you didn’t tell him that there were people talking about your relationship with him. he felt you tense up when he mentioned it, but you just shrugged it off and told him that it wasn’t a big deal.
✂︎ he didn’t really believe you, but he decided to let it go for the time-being. he knew that you were a kind and caring person, so he was worried about whether or not people were avoiding you or spreading rumors about you. he wasn’t sure how you would handle it if that was what was happening; you were probably one of the most non-violent people he knew.
✂︎ everytime he came to your school now, he would be hearing more and more things about the two of you, until one day, it suddenly stopped. you would get weird looks when you walked over to his bike now, and there was less people talking about you and him, which made him think that something had happened, and what made him even more worried was that everytime he asked you about it, you would subtly change the subject.
✂︎ one day, you were really late coming out of school, and he was getting really worried. he asked around a bit, (he got some really nervous looks) and eventually found out that someone had seen you around the shoe lockers.
✂︎ he could care less at this point that he wasn’t supposed to be inside of your school; he was starting to get pretty pissed, because if what he thought was happening was going on, he was ready to beat somebody up.
✂︎ however, a completely opposite sight came into his view as he slowed down his pace through the shoe locker area.
✂︎ he had come just in time to see you shove the last person you had been fighting against the wall, and then down onto the floor, where you stepped on his face with your foot. there was three other people who were already unconscious, but you seemed to have a particular bone to pick with this guy.
✂︎ “don’t think you can go around this school, saying whatever the hell you want to about draken. you could never have a fair fight with him; it would be a whole slaughterhouse. hell, i have half a mind to make this into a slaughterhouse right now!! don’t take me lightly, you pieces of shit. you’re nothing; you’re worth less than the dog shit on your shoes, which is disgusting by the way.”
✂︎ you kicked the guy’s face away, sighing. you didn’t really like to do this sort of thing very often, but when you heard these people talking about your boyfriend like they were, you couldn’t help but react. it probably wasn’t one of your smartest ideas, but it was too late to undo it.
✂︎ just as you picked up your bag, you heard a voice from behind you.
✂︎ “damn (y/n), you didn’t tell me you could fight like that.”
✂︎ you dropped the bag you had just picked up at the sound of the familiar voice. panic set in as you tried to think of a way to explain to draken what had happened, and why there was four guys on the ground, and why you were standing above them.
✂︎ “i, uhh…” “that was pretty hot of you, were you stickin’ up for me?” looking back, you were surprised to see the smirk on draken’s face as he walked closer to you.
✂︎ “well, they weren’t being very nice, so i, uhm...yeah…” draken just chuckled a bit, amused by how you were able to go from somebody who was just talking shit to a guy they had just beat up, to somebody who’s shy and kind.
✂︎ “ahh of course, of course. anyways, you wanna go get some dorayaki? mikey asked me to pick some up on the way to the meeting.” “ah...sure…”
✂︎ you were honestly shock, yet also relieved that draken didn’t really make too much of a deal about it, (when mikey heard about what you did though, he was super hyped about it).
✂︎ baji had been able to keep up his nerdy and goody-goody reputation in school for a bit, but after a while, it had started to slip, and people had started to find out who he really was, as well as the fact that the two of you were dating. he could care less about whatever people were saying about him, but he was more worried about if it was affecting you. he could never really tell with you, since you would always just gently smile and tell him that everything was fine.
✂︎ you hadn’t really given any reason for him to be worried about you, but he could see it in the way that people would look at you that there was something going on that he didn’t know about.
✂︎ whenever he heard people talking about himself or you, he would just look in their direction and they would instantly turn away and leave. he tried his best to stay around you at all times, and walk you to all your classes, even if it meant that he was late to his own. however, he wasn’t able to always be with you, so he wasn’t sure how you were handling everything.
✂︎ he’d asked chifuyu to keep an eye on you when he wasn’t able to be around, but even then, he was still concerned about whether or not people would take advantage of you shy and sweet nature to be assholes to you. baji knew that these same people would never say the same thing to himself, so instead, they would probably say it to you, knowing that you won’t fight back against them, and the mere thought just pissed him off to no end.
✂︎ he had even tried to tell some teachers about it and have them make everyone leave you alone, but they said that something like that was out of their hands, which made him even more pissed off about the situation.
✂︎ the last straw for him was when he heard from some other students that there was somebody who was planning on confronting you about your boyfriend later on that day during lunch.
✂︎ as soon as class ended, he practically zoomed out of the classroom, and started sprinting to the opposite end of the building, where your homeroom was. he opened the door in a rush, and everyone stared at him as you asked where you were. there wasn’t any answers at first, until somebody spoke up and said that you had gone in the courtyard.
✂︎ his annoyance only increased tenfold at the thought of some punks trying to corner you and beat you you, (unknowingly, his speed increased at this thought).
✂︎ once he actually made it to the courtyard though, the sight that greeted him was completely different from whatever it was that he was expecting.
✂︎ “no come on, go ahead and say it again, i’m listening! oh no, that’s not fun, i thought you had some brass ones! where are the balls of steel you had two moments ago, when you decided that it was okay for human shit like yourself to talk about baji-san like that? you’re not the ones on top here; you’re on the lowest level, maybe even lower than a fly, or perhaps a flea? don’t think that you can just go around and say whatever sort of shit that you want, because it’s not going to fly. you better start keeping your distance from me so i don’t turn this place into a fuckin’ murder case, got it?”
✂︎ your foot was on top of some dude’s chest, and you stared down at him with what seemed to be pure rage. baji’s mouth almost dropped open for a second, but then it turned into a smirk.
✂ damn, she’s cute when she’s mad.
✂︎ from what you had said, he guessed that you were pissed off because they had started talking shit about him, and to be honest, baji’s heart was over the moon because of it. he was feeling so proud that you hadn’t taken shit from those people, and that you were willing to go so far for him.
✂︎ the fact that you could be so kind and shy, yet also have this side to you was just further proof that he was in love with you; this incident had just made him fall even farther.
✂︎ “damn babe, you really fucked ‘em up, huh?”
✂︎ at the sound of the familiar voice, your foot immediately was taken off of the chest of the guy you had beat up, and was set back on the ground.
✂︎ “keisuke!? what’re you doing here!?” your regular self had kicked back in once you saw him standing in front of you, leaving against a pillar a bit away.
✂︎ “oh, i’m just here to watch my amazing s/o beat the shit out of some people.” the smirk on his face as he looked at you comforted you a lot, and you smiled nervously, looking to the side.
✂︎ “ah, i see…” he just laughs at your reaction a bit, amused about how you can switch from being a badass to being a timid mouse so quickly. you walked towards him, not wanting to be spotted by somebody near people who were unconscious. despite what you had just done, you didn’t really feel like getting detention, or possibly suspended.
✂︎ “i love you even more now that i’ve seen your badass side. where’d you learn to fight?” the teasing tone in his voice made you sigh, but at the same time, you were smiling. overall, you were just happy that he didn’t get totally freaked out by you and how you switched up so quickly.
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With the release of this game and my new obsession, I bring you this! I’ve got an idea for a fic to go with it, which I will post at a later date.
Disclaimer: I don’t own the characters of RE8. Credit to dem creators of da game :3
(Also plz don’t repost or publish in a separate post without my permission, thank you ;3 ) (you may reblog if you want :3 )
Human! Reader takes the Dimitrescu family to a tropical beach. (At night/sunset ofc) Alcina and y/n let the girls go wild. They’re all fascinated by this new place. Cassandra is comparing the sand to snow, Bella is interested in the little sand bugs with snippy hands (crabs), and Daniella is... eating... the sand... Y/n is enjoying the break, glad to be back at the beach for once, and Alcina pretends to be uninterested at the place but finds herself liking it a LOT. She’ll come to enjoy the beach herself. It’s a great break from the Castle, the stresses of the business, and an escape from Mother Miranda AND that idiot Heisenberg. They need this ok? It’s boring after a while, being cooped up inside the castle for forever. (Also put them in different clothing than their typical dress, just to give a bit more of a vacation vibe. They don’t ALWAYS wear what they wear, they have other clothes.)
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Hello yet again, could you please do some hcs of the four Lords with a very gentle and kind s/o who's love language is touch? I feel like they all just need someone to cuddle them/take care of them and tell them everything is alright (especially Karl, I feel like this man would cry the first time you hugged him)
Ooooh fuck not again
—She just thinks that you're an absolute doll, she loves how kind you are
—She will not let you get in harms way by any means.
—Anyone who dears to speak about you will get their ass beat
—Oh my goodness imagine if Ethan got his hands on you, she would go f e r a l
—She has no problems with picking you up and holding you
—Like she would be doing something and she'd be holding you in the other arm, it's cute
—(He did his lil dancy dance)
—He finally gets the love he deserves
—He's scared to touch you, he thinks that you'll just break under his touch
—The fact that you think that he wouldn't start crying if you have him a hug is sad
—Just let him cry, he really needs to get those emotions out
—He's so sad but so happy, he's oh so touch-starved
—His love language is also words of affirmation and touch so it's also just a give and receive situation
—If he wants to touch you without you making the first move, his hands are very shaky and he's really hesitant
—He's just trying his best
—Bold of you to assume that she doesn't crave physical touch as well
—She's always holding your hand
—But she's scared to go passed that without you making the first move (just like the rest of the lord's tbh, except Alcina)
—But if giving you physical attention is all she needs to do to get you to stay with her, it's a pretty small price she's willing to pay
—She likes that you're kind, she hates it when people raise her voice at her
—She likes to hide behind you when she's in a situation she doesn't wanna be in
—But other than that, she likes having you around
—The first time you hug him he just melts into it
—It seems like it's the first time he got to genuinely relax in a while, even if he seemed so calm and chill all the time
—He doesn't cry, but he certainly shivers
—That's when he starts to find excuses to touch you
—But that conversation is for another time
—He confuses your kindness with being naive, which you certainly aren't
—Just like Lady D, he's pretty protective over you, and he'll be pissed if any harm comes your way
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What Bad Girls Get ✷ Mob Boss!Steve x Reader One Shot
You’ve been a bad, bad girl. Time for your reckoning.
Content Warning: mob boss!steve x fem!reader, kind of dark!steve but not really?, smut (daddy!steve, sloppy blowjob, rough sex, degradation kink, dumbification ('dumb baby', 'stupid little girl'), spanking with a paddle, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, face slapping), aftercare, fluff, softdom!steve.
i do not use the term 'degradation kink' lightly. please do not read if you are easily offended.
Timidly, you push the large, heavy door open, slowly sticking your head through the gap. When you see that he's alone, a small smile grows on your lips.
"Is that my little bubble?" Steve asks with a small smirk, tilting his head. "Get over here, baby."
You do as he say, walking into the office and over to where he is sitting at his desk, nursing a glass of bourbon. Steve has been working all day, and you've missed him terribly, so you immediately climb onto his lap and wrap your arms around him.
He chuckles at your clinginess, stroking the back of your hair. "I missed you today, bubble."
"I missed you, too," You mumble, playing with the buttons on his shirt.
"You've been good today, haven't you?" Steve asks with a smile, cupping your face in his hand. "Finished your essay, and Mr. Barnes told me you even did some cleaning."
"Yeah," You reply with a shy grin. "I wanted to wash your bike for you, so it's nice and shiny when you take it out tomorrow."
"Aren't you sweet?" He mutters, giving you a soft kiss which leaves you aching for more. Pulling away, he strokes your cheek, his eyes locking onto yours. "So, you were a good girl today?"
"Yes, Sir," You reply instantly, nodding.
He raises a brow. "Didn't break any of daddy's rules?"
Your heart stammers, but you keep up your nonchalant expression. "No, Sir."
Steve runs his hand through your hair, sighing. "I heard you, bubble. Heard your pathetic little whimpers all the way from my office."
You say nothing, clutching onto his shirt as your eyes widen.
"You were playing with yourself, weren't you?" He asks softly. "Making yourself cum like a desperate slut."
"No," You whisper, shaking your head. "I- I wasn't."
Suddenly, he pulls on your hair, anger in his eyes. "And now you're lying to me about it?"
Knowing there's no way you'll convince him of your innocence, you give him the most regretful look you can muster. "I'm sorry, Sir."
He laughs darkly. "It's a little too late for your sorry, bubble. But I'm gonna give you exactly what you want."
"Y- you are?" You ask meekly.
"I am, baby," Steve utters, giving you a small smile which does little to soothe you. "You wanted to cum so badly earlier, didn't you?"
Remaining silent, you simply gaze up at him.
"Well, I'm going to help you, bub," He promises, before standing up with your legs around his waist. Steve carries you out of the office and to the bedroom, where he places you down on the bed. "Lay down, with your head over the edge," He commands, to which you immediately comply.
He stands behind you while you look up at him, anticipating his next order.
"Put your hand down your panties," Steve orders, his eyes scanning your body. "Rub that little pussy for me. Just like you were earlier."
With a deep breath, you slip your hand up your dress and past your underwear, before finding your throbbing clit and rubbing small, quick circles onto it.
"That's my girl," He mumbles, before the delicious sound of his belt buckle opening fills your ears. "I'm giving you what you want, but you gotta give daddy what he wants too, bub."
He takes out his hard cock and brings it to your lips, not bothering with letting you slowly adjust and instead pushing it into your mouth. When his tip hits the back of your throat, he begins fucking your face. Small whimpers escape around his cock as you continue playing with yourself.
"That's it, keep going," He says, letting out a groan. "Keep rubbing that pussy like the dirty whore you are. Get so wet just from sucking on daddy's cock, huh? Fucking choke on it, slut, that's a good girl."
Steve loves the sight of your drool spilling out your mouth and pouring up your cheeks, where it meets your tears. His precum mixes in with your saliva, coating your skin while you continue to gag on his big dick. You rub your clit faster, feeling your pleasure build up.
"Make yourself cum," He orders gravely, fucking your throat harder. "Now."
His gruff command pushes you to the edge and soon you're cumming all over your own fingers, whining onto his cock. You shudder a little, gasping when he pulls his cock out of your mouth.
"Good girl," He praises you, before his tone darkens. "Now, get on your fucking hands and knees."
Breathing heavily, you obey, letting out soft whimpers while you move. Steve, unhappy with how slow you're moving, grabs your legs and speeds up the process, forcing you onto your knees and pushing you down onto your hands.
"Been such a bad girl," He says, ripping off your dress to expose your body to him, before sliding your panties down. "Such a bad, bad girl today, bubble."
You whine at the feeling of his cock against your thigh. The sound of the bedside drawer opening sends a shiver down your spine. "D- daddy?"
He says nothing. A few seconds pass and you feel a harsh slap on your ass, making you squeal. The paddle sits in Steve's hand, and he twirls it around a few times with a smirk before serving you with another spank.
"Ah, daddy!" You cry out, pressing your face down to the mattress.
"I never said I wasn't going to punish you, bubble," He says teasingly, before his tone fills with pure anger, his voice loud and gruff. "This," Spank, "Is what," Spank, "Bad girls," Spank, "Get."
You're left a sobbing mess, your mind blank as the delicious pain drenches your body.
Steve throws the paddle to the floor, rubbing his hand over your sore ass. "Look at you, dripping fucking wet. You're such a dirty little slut, aren't you?"
You can barely get a coherent word out, your legs shaking.
He chuckles, bringing his cock to your entrance. Slowly, he sinks himself inside you, groaning at the feeling of your sopping cunt sucking in his shaft. "Fuck, baby," He whispers, his eyes fluttering shut. "So fucking tight for daddy."
Without warning, he begins pounding into you, making you cry out with each thrust. His cock stretches your pussy out, filling you up and hitting all your sweet spots. Tightly gripping your hips, Steve is sure to leave behind dark bruises, but the mark of his presence only acts as a proof of the passion you share with him, leaving you dazed for days as the memories of this session permanently etch onto your mind.
His cock slides in and out of you, stroking your walls and making you shudder. With his left hand creeping around your waist, Steve moves his fingers downwards and begins to rub harsh circles on your already sensitive clit, making you whine.
"You can take it," He growls harshly into your ear. "Don't act so fucking weak now, slut. This is what you crave."
Shockwaves are sent through your body as he drags out your second orgasm, making your cunt flutter around his cock as he groans.
"That's it," Steve says with a smirk, still pounding into you with no mercy. "This is how you cum. Around daddy's cock. Not when you're fucking alone, playing with yourself. Do you understand?"
"I- I understand," You reply weakly, shaking beneath him.
"I don't fucking think you do," He says gruffly, taking the paddle and striking your ass once more with it. "I don't think my dumb little girl understands, because if she did, she wouldn't have toyed with that pussy of mine without my permission."
"I'm sorry, daddy," You cry out, face rubbing against the duvet while your quivering cunt sucks him in. "I didn't mean to."
"You didn't mean to?" Steve repeats with a patronizing tone. "What a dumb fucking baby you are. You don't have any fucking control of yourself?"
"I'm sorry," You repeat with a whinier voice, tears filling your eyes. "I'll never do it again."
Suddenly, he grabs a fistful of your hair and pulls your head back, making you squeak. "You're damn fucking right, you won't," He seethes, dropping the paddle and freeing up his hand.
With your back flush against his front, Steve slaps your pussy, making you gasp. Your knee shoots up in an attempt to protect yourself, but he drags your leg backwards, keeping you open.
"Don't you fucking dare try and evade your punishment," He warns you gravely, making you freeze in fear. "Not after the fucking shit you pulled today, you stupid little girl."
A shaky whimper leaves your mouth before he unleashes his rage on you. Without warning, Steve continues to slap your pussy over and over, his rings hitting your clit as you cry out. Each slap sends a shoot of pain and pleasure through your body, and you're almost unable to breath. His cock still sits deep inside you, and he relishes in the feeling of your pussy throbbing around with him every slap he serves it.
Once your clit is left raw and pulsing, Steve immediately begins to rub it, hard. You scream out and grab onto his wrist in an attempt to make him stop, but he is relentless.
"This is what you fucking wanted," He says lowly, clamping his arm around your waist to keep you in place. "You wanted to cum. So, bubble, daddy's gonna make you cum."
"Please, Sir," You whine, your voice breaking with defeat. "I can't take anymore."
A dark chuckle leaves his throat and with his free hand, he slaps your face before roughly squeezing your cheeks. "Shut the fuck up. You'll take whatever your daddy fucking gives you, and you won't say a fucking thing. Know why?" He pulls you up by your throat, still rubbing your clit intensely as you convulse. "Because good girls don't talk back. Good girls don't fucking talk at all."
Wanting to be obedient and not to anger him any further, you say nothing and instead just whimper. With his fingers on your pussy, Steve forces out your third orgasm, fucking into you with his cock as he lets out a growl, feeling your cunt tighten around his cock.
"God," He groans, his eyes rolling back. His voice harmonizes with your weak cries as you come undone, your entire body feeling like it has been set alight. You fall forward, your chest slamming against the bed as shaky breaths leave your mouth. But Steve isn't done with you yet.
His hands grab your hips and you use what little strength you have to try and crawl away, letting out feeble whines on your way.
"Come on, now," Steve says darkly, a smirk on his lips. He plays along for a while, letting you inch away from him before he drags you backwards and plants himself right back inside your pussy, where he belongs. "You really think you can win, you stupid little slut?" His hands clamp on your hips and he pounds into you, harder than ever. "If you’re gonna act like such a greedy fucking whore, then you’re gonna take my cock like one."
Your mind is blank. You can process nothing but Steve, his words and his body, and his fat cock fucking you as though stopping would end the world.
"Has daddy fucked his slut stupid?" Steve teases, chuckling dryly. "That's right. Got you fucking cockdrunk, haven't I?"
A frail cry is your reply, your legs shaking as he fucks you deeper, hitting your g-spot.
"My cockdrunk little thing," He groans, slamming into you. "Dumb little cumslut."
You feel like you're floating on a cloud of utter pleasure, tinged with pain and humiliation. Wrapping his arm around your neck, Steve thrusts faster, chasing his own orgasm.
"One more," He demands into your ear. "Give daddy one more."
"Can't," You whimper, your nails digging into the bed.
"You can and you will," Steve states gravely, pulling on your hair. "You're gonna cum all over daddy's cock because he fucking told you to."
Your vision blurs as the tears spill over, choked moans leaving your mouth. Steve leans forward to lick up your tears, his tongue hot against your skin. He fucks you into the bed, the headboard squeaking against the wall. Your breathy whines dance along his animalistic grunts, the two of you writing a song of utter rapture that you know will get stuck in your head.
Steve pulls your head back before slapping your face, his lips at your ear. "Cum," He growls, his demand simple and not to be ignored. "Fucking cum for me now, slut." With another slap to your cheek, he lures out another orgasm from you, laughing cruelly at the way you have become so weak at his hand.
Your mind explodes with bliss as you squirt all over his cock, your vision whiting out for a few seconds as you try to process the sheer pleasure he brings you. With a few more pumps, Steve empties his load into you, cumming deep inside you and coating your walls with his seed. He falls forward, resting his weight on you as he thrusts a few last times, letting out groans into your ear.
"That's it," He moans. "Take every fucking drop of daddy's cum, like the good little whore you are. Daddy's fucking cumslut."
Both of you dwell in the pleasant silence that follows the downfall of your highs. A fluttering of relief overtakes you as your heartbeat relaxes, your mind still deep in submission. You feel Steve placing your head on the pillow but it takes a few minutes for you to re-enter reality.
Leaning over you, a small smile blossoms on his lips. "Hi, baby bubble," He whispers, stroking your cheek gently. "Back with me yet?"
Swallowing, you nod weakly.
"You okay?" Steve asks you, before placing a kiss to the tip of your nose.
"Yeah," You mumble, placing your hand on his warm chest. "I'm okay, daddy."
His smile grows and he wraps his arms around you, holding you tight. "You did so well for me tonight, bub."
"I did?" You ask with raised brows, twirling a piece of his hair around your finger.
"You absolutely did," Steve promises with his lips brushing against yours. "You always do so well for daddy. Always such a good girl."
A shy giggle leaves your mouth and you feel your heart warm. "I'm sorry I broke one of your rules, daddy."
"Shh," He soothes, before cupping your cheek and kissing you softly. "Just relax, baby."
You sigh with content as he pulls the covers over you and gently rubs your neck, where his hand left bruises. Soft kisses and sweet nothings lull you into a trance of peace, where nothing but Steve's unconditional care matters.
"Does anything hurt?" He asks you, slight concern in his eyes.
Though you feel sore all over, you know it'll wear off in a day or two. "No, daddy," You reply sweetly, offering him a smile. "I'm okay."
Steve looks at you with more adoration than the world could hold, and the intensity of his love for you almost does offset the balance of the universe. At least, that's how it feels to you. That's how it feels when his eyes burn into yours and you know, you know that he has never and will never again look at anyone else in that way. His love is branded with your emblem. It is so personalized and catered to you, that he couldn't even try to give it to someone else if he wanted to. It wouldn't fit them; it'd stretch too thin or pull too short. No, his love is too personalized. You're the only one it could ever latch onto.
"You are everything," He whispers against your lips, every syllable lighting up your heart. "There's nothing I wouldn't do for you, my baby."
Pulling him closer than he already is, you kiss him. "You're my favorite thing."
He chuckles at your words, placing a trail of kisses down your jawline until he reaches your ear. "And you, my baby bubble, are my favorite thing."
Lifting you up, he turns you over so you are lying on top of him. His hand trails down your body until he reaches your ass, which he gently massages. With his magic touch, he heals the pain, bringing light to every inch of your blessed skin.
"I love you," He vows, tenderly running a hand through your hair. "All of you, always, with all of me."
"All of you, always, with all of me," You repeat with a mumble, interlocking your fingers with his. "I love you."
Steve smiles widely and kisses you again before rolling you over so he can spoon you, delighting in your giggles. And he holds you tightly, all night, as though letting go would mean he could never hold you again. Because you're his good girl, always. Always.
Steve Rogers Masterlist
i no longer use a taglist, but if you would like to be notified of my works, follow @kinanabinksupdates and turn on notifications <3
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𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: vinnie hacker x fem!reader
𝘀𝘆𝗻𝗼𝗽𝘀𝗶𝘀: vinnie and his girlfriend try to calm down before the big fight
𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: none really just fluff, maybe some angst if you squint? some swearing
𝗔/𝗡: alright well i guess i’m a writer now 😃 i’m nervous asf about the fight tonight and i’m sure all you vinnie stans are as well so I thought this might help y’all destress! I DIDNT PROOFREAD THIS BECAUSE I WANTED TO POST THIS ASAP!!x
“y/n, for the last time!”
you immediately broke from your trance at your boyfriends, looking over at him, your brows furrowed.
“please don’t pick at your fingers, you’re gonna hurt yourself-“ before he could finish his sentence, you replied with a quick apology.
“i know! i know, i’m sorry..” you frowned, looking down at your bracelet. it’s the one vinnie had made, late one night at your house. a simple thread with some beads. you’re sure it wasn’t that much of an effort, but to you it meant the world. anything he did for you, big or small, never went unnoticed.
“i’m just lookin’ out for you.” his eyes peeked through his hair as the woman crouching infront of him, continued asking him questions. it was a bunch of information about the fight and the legality of it all. just basically tons of shit you didn’t really understand- nor care about. all you cared about was your boyfriends safety.
at first, you were happy about the fight. seeing how competitive your boyfriend was, it was good for him to get out and meet more people who he could learn from. he was by far the most curious boy you ever met. he loved taking tips and learning tricks from people, anything to help him better his craft. he’s been like that since elementary. one thing about vinnie hacker was that he wanted to be the best possible version of himself he could be, and that means being as good as humanly possible when it comes to just about anything, fighting was no different.
he was overly confident and always came home with sweat in his locks and a big smile on his face. you began to dread the day the fight came though. you had gotten so use to seeing him at the gym, giving him back rubs and letting him use you as weights, picking you up and giving you kisses while doing push-ups. you didn’t really want it to end, mainly because you were scared he would get hurt.
he had the talk with you, promising you that he would do whatever he had to to get out of that ring safe and sound to come back home to you. nights of snuggling and whispering sweet nothings became harder to say goodbye to. you gave up on social media. honestly the only one you really used was tiktok, just to see what your beautiful boyfriend was up to. you were never really a fan of putting yourself out there like that. that was something you always admired vinnie for, and maybe that’s why you were so perfect together. you were perfectly fine with being his shadow, sticking by his side throughout everything. you absolutely hated being the center of attention so when vinnie would post pictures of you on his instagram story, or pan over to you sitting on the couch at the end of his thirst traps, you were immediately uncomfortable. it was a good uncomfortable though. vinnie helped you step out of your shell and you began to get noticed by fans whenever you left the house. it was definitely something you wouldn’t have seen yourself doing, but god, did that boy change you.
so here you were, sitting on the floor of what could only be assumed as a dressing room, vinnie beside you, his legs sprawled out as a woman began lathering what looked like grease all over his body. you shooting her a few death glares whenever her hands trailed down too far for your liking which vin definitely found adorable.
reporters and people in lanyards surrounded you. vinnie brought all of his friends to watch the event so they sat in chairs behind the two of you. you and vinnie were the only two sitting on the ground, everyone else either standing or in chairs. constant yelling and information clouded the room as you started to feel yourself panic. vinnie didn’t notice your upset state as he was talking about something with a friend and laughing about something stupid he said.
as people started to arrive, one of vinnies managers told everyone to get out so they could have some space. people slowly started to trickle through the door and out the halls, speakers blasting. your back was pressed up against a suitcase and the lanyard you were given was tickling your neck as you absentmindedly started wiggling your toes.
“hey, you okay?” vinnie leaned over at you, his abs on full display and his biceps spread, holding his body up, one arm behind your body. still zoned out, you slowly nod.
vinnie swallows and his eyes flicker down from your eyes to your legs, he sniffles and holds a hand up, asking a friend to get you a water. he then turns to the woman pestering him and asks her, “can you give us a second?” she nods and he thanks her, his attention back on his girlfriend as he scoots closer to her. all he’s wearing is his boxing shorts that hug his body so well.
“alright..” he mutters, “baby, what’s the matter?” you look over, suprised by how close he is now. you begin to wonder how much time passed. how long you sat there on the tiled floor, drifting off into space and trying so desperately to ignore everything happening around you. “hmm?” you can’t form a complete sentence so you hum a reply.
“come on. what’s wrong?” he shuffles even closer, turns slightly and coughs into his shoulder before his friend comes back with your water. he hands it to vinnie, the cold liquid leaving a residue on his palm.
“here, drink this.” you look at the water and take it, chugging it and closing your eyes. vinnie looks at you with worry. a pure puppy dog look but sadly, your eyelids are shut so you miss it.
you slam the bottle back down on the ground, inhaling through your mouth. “i feel like i’m gonna fucking die.” vinnie bursts out laughing at your words, “what?!”
you keep a serious expression and start shaking your head, staring out into space. “i’m serious.” before vinnie can reply, people barge through the door and begin escorting him to a waiting room. you look up at him as he stands over you. “come on.” he keeps his arm around you the whole walk, lightly kissing your head as he says small hellos to the people passing by. he pulls away from you quickly to take a picture with a fan, before embracing you again in his arms. the room has a small carpet and reminded you of an airport. a small snack bar with couches filled with people.
you groan at the sight of more people, as vinnie tries to find a place to sit. a guy wraps a robe around his naked chest and he settles on a chair that sat near a fake plant. it was in the corner of the room and far from people. “here, sweetheart, come sit on my lap.” he places you on his lap. you rest your head on his shoulder, your eyes aligned with his ear. “that’a girl.” he smiled down at you and wrapped his muscular arms around you. kissing your cheek as you sighed. you wore his arms like a scarf, his tattoos sprinkled all throughout your neckline, breathing in his cologne and shampoo from the shower he just took.
“you are my baby, you know that?” he looked down at you, pure love in his eyes. “mmhmm” he giggled at how precious you looked. he was determined to make you say something. “yeah?” he started lightly poking at your side, knowing all your most ticklish spots. you instantly start laughing, “vinnie, knock it off.”
“oh! there you are! i was wondering where my sweet y/n went!” you roll your eyes as he lifts up your body, adjusting himself, keeping you perched on his lap and your head still limp in his neck. “shut up.”
“you wanna talk to me now?”
“what? why not?” he was giggling with every word. whenever he was anxious he got a lot more playful with you.
“because you’re a jerk!”
he pulled away and gave you a wtf look. “the fuck? why am i a jerk?” his brows were furrowed as he waited for your answer.
“i don’t know, i’m just upset..” you frowned as your cheek met the soft fabric of his robe. “i know, baby i know.”
silence overtook you two as he just held you waiting for his cue to leave. minutes pass and suddenly you blurted out the words that had been on your mind all day. “promise you’ll come back to me?”
he smiled sadly at your words, looking down at the top of your head. his fingers began to play with your hair. “i’m not going to die y/n, it’s just a little fight that’s all!”
“i know but…. just promise me?”
he gripped your throat with his hand and pulled you close to him before kissing you softly. breaking the kiss, your noses still touching he whispered a sweet “i promise.”
you both stayed like that, hugging eachother as you traced his tattoos on his arm and he played with your hair, before it was time for him to leave.
“you’ve got your seat right? you know where you are going?” vinnie worries hit him all at once and you could see it.
“yup!” you lean in and give him a quick peck before pulling him back, stopping his movements from walking.
“vinnie. i promise you’ve got this. no matter what happens, i’m so so proud of you. all of your fans are so fucking proud of you. you worked so hard for this.” you start to tear up as your boyfriend looks down at you, nodding. people begin to yell for him to hurry up.
you pull him in for another passionate kiss, your hand gripping his hair. “i love you vinnie.”
“i love you too.”
your hands interlocked as he walked towards the door to leave.
he turned to look at you one more time.
“you’ve got this.”
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Monstadt and Liyue boys: You fall asleep on them, and they fall asleep on you. Plus a bonus for some of them!
Diluc, Venti, Kaeya, Albedo, Chongyun, Kazuha, Childe, Aether, Xiao, Xingqiu, Zhongli, Scaramouche
Headcanons, Gender Neutral (They/Them, You/Yours)
A spoiler for We Will Be Reunited in Aether’s second story, but its vague
You fall asleep on them
It was a tiring day of commisions and the like, but you wanted to spend at least some time with your boyfriend. He was rambling on and on about his day and other stressful things that you could’t help but doze off. It took him a bit to notice, but when he did, he blushed. He knew the sofa wasn’t the most comfortable and gently carried you to your room, placing you on your bed, tucking you in. As he turned to leave, you clung to sleeve, silently asking him to stay. He gently nodded, and crawled in next to you. You and him both slept better than ever before.
They fall asleep on you
It was basically the reverse, but you couldn’t carry him, and just curled up next to him, drifitng off with his arms wrapped around you. He looked calm, and at peace. He genuinely trusted you. When he woke up, he blushed. He didn’t move until you woke up, and if you did before him he would apologise, face still tinted red. You forgave him, giving him a soft kiss. It was moments like this he adored, just being able to show his soft side. It was also a small gossip among the maids for about two days, but he never found out.
Bonus: PDA opinion
Not a huge fan of PDA, but if someone’s getting too touchy, won’t hesitate to pull you close. And show off his vision. If he’s around Kaeya, like at the tavern, he doesn’t mean to be rude but may slightly ignore your affections, just to spare you both from the teasing. Afterwards, will kiss your forehead and apologise, explaining his reasons. You forgave him, as always. You did understand, Kaeya was a menace at times.
You fall asleep on them
You were rested in his lap, as he played his Lyre. The tune was so calming, you weren’t particularly tired but drifted off. It took Venti awhile to notice. Only when he asked if you wanted to go for a walk, and you didn’t reply, did he notice. The bard didn’t wish to wake you, and let the lyre vanish into the winds. He let out a soft ‘Ehe~’ before leaning against the tree, and playing with your hair. He did drift off soon, with a comfortable expression.
They fall asleep on you
It was a late night, and you were carrying Venti back from the bar, as he was far too drunk to get home on his own. You got home and changed, your boyfriend laughing and waiting for you. You walked over to him on the bed, before wrapping your arms around his small frame, and pulling him close. You talked for a bit to him, noticing he had fallen asleep when he cuddled closer and his breathing was softer. You gently laughed, kissing his forehead before falling asleep yourself.
Bonus: PDA opinion
Unless you don’t want it, there is a lot of PDA, he just wants everyone to know your his beloved! Will cuddle or hug or kiss you anywhere from on the streets, to the tavern to the middle of the forest. His favourite place to cuddle with you, is of course, Windrise. He loves to rest with you there.
You fall asleep on them
You couldn’t help it! Despite the captain’s cryo vision, he was warm. And comfortable. And..Well, you could go on and on with excuses. It happened when you two were cuddling after a pretty tough day for the both of you. You tried to stay awake, but failed. He noticed quickly, with a chuckle. “Oh? Falling for me yet again..Adorable.” He kissed your forehead, and stayed awake, mainly because he had more work to do. He decided to put you to bed first, not wishing you to be uncomfortable.
They fall asleep on you
Similiar to Venti, you had to walk him home from the tavern. You struggled a bit, as he was somehow more clingy than you expected. You did get home, but not without struggle. “(Name)~” Kaeya whined, as you lead him to your room, letting him stay there. You knew what he wanted, and stayed. You leaned against the headboard, Kaeya clinging to your side. You stroked his hair until he fell asleep. You fell asleep soon as well. He was embarrassed when you mentioned how he acted, but played it off like it was intentional.
Bonus: PDA opinion
Another one for PDA. He’s flirty in public, but will stop or tone it down if you ask, he doesn’t want to make you discomforted, after all. He wouldn’t hesitate to be even more clingy if somebody was bothering you. Kaeya loves you, and will never let you think otherwise.
You fall asleep on them
Albedo knew you didn’t understand much about the experiment he was explaining, but was glad you listened to him. “And that’s how...” He trailed off, noticing you were asleep on his shoulder. “I suppose it was a boring topic for them..” He muttered with a smile. He didn’t want to wake you, knowing how important sleep was for you, so he gently pulled you in his lap and wrapped his arms around you. Resting his head on your shoulder, he too fell asleep. His body was warm, a difference to the cold air of Dragonspine, and a nice one. Or, maybe it was just the fire that flickered in the background.
They fall asleep on you
You had begged the Chief Alchemist to take a break, as he had been working for a week straight. Albedo had deniend the need for rest, but the bags under his eyes said otherwise. He eventually gave in and you pat the sofa, with a happy smile. It wasn’t long that you felt a weight against your chest, and saw he was asleep. “I told you so..” You said, rolling your eyes in a loving manner. You stayed awake to make sure he stayed asleep, and he did until the morning, where he thanked you. You could never get his sleeping face out your mind, it was absolutely precious, and it was nice seeing him so at ease.
You fall asleep on them
Chongyun was rambling about some encounter he almost had with a spirit, but you weren’t paying much attention, only listening to the sound of his voice. He noticed when you leaned against his shoulder, eyes shut and breathing soft. He didn’t want to move, despite him beginning to overheat. He tried to gently move you so he could get a popsicle, but when he heard you mumble, he froze. The exorcist didn’t move, at all. He waited until you woke up, which wasn’t pleasent and he didn’t feel the best afterwards. When you noticed, you were quick to apologise and grab him one, coming up with excuses. Chongyun forgave you, he couldn’t stay mad (not that he was), at you anyway.
They fall asleep on you
Xingqiu had pranked him with a far too spicy dish and you were thankfully there, able to quickly get the situation under control and help your boyfriend. You both went back to your place, as it was getting late. You were talking, and before you knew it he was passed out agaisnt you. You couldn’t blame him, it was rather stressful earlier and he was burnt out. You gently kissed his forehead before carrying him to your room and laying down next to him. When he woke up, he was blushing, but still was calm. It surprised him, a lot.
You fall asleep on them
Beidou has agreed to let you come with on the next voyage they went on, and so you were pretty happy. It was a few nights in, and you and Kazuha were talking. You were leaned against him, and he had an arm around you. It was late, and it was to be expected but you drifted off to the sound of his voice, the ocean crashimg against the boat and the wind. Kazuha noticed instantly, and smiled. Beidou walked onto the deck, about to say something when he gave a small wave, asking her to be quiet. She nodded, deciding it could wait and left you two alone again.
They fall asleep on you
You hadn’t joined them this time, waiting for your beloved instead. When he got back, you were both quick to leave and talk elsewhere, which was your home. You rambled about what had happened in the mean time, while he listened. After falling asleep, he looked even more peaceful. You were happy to rest with him, knowing it wouldn’t be too long before you both would leave again.
You fall asleep on them
The harbinger had gotten some free time, and was spending it dragging you through the harbour. It was a rather long day, and you were exhausted by the time you got home. You sat on the couch, with your beloved. You were talking for awhile before the exhaustion kicked in and you dropped against his shoulder. Tartaglia didn’t expect this, and shot up, assuming you were trying to attack him, (for some reason, maybe to keep him on guard.) That was not the case, and you were thrown to the floor because of physics, and hit it, harshly. He was embarrassed to say the least, and in your moment of exhausted anger, you did smack his shoulder. He found it fair. Childe was forgiven, but only because he let you sleep in his lap instead.
They fall asleep on you
Childe returned home after a long day of training new recruits. He curled up in bed next to you. You spoke for awhile, until exhaustion set in for him, and he fell asleep. You considered pettily waking him up, like he’d done to you, but when you saw his peaceful and loving expression, you couldn’t. You kissed his cheek before falling asleep as well. His arms wrapped more around you in your shared slumber, and he was grateful when he woke that you’d let him rest. He still felt bad about the other day, and was trying to make it up to you.
You fall asleep on them
Aether had invited you to the teapot, and you were in his room. Paimon was there too, but she was eating something in the kitchen area, leaving you two alone for now. It was awhile later that you had grown tired, and Aether had as well. He opened his arms and let you cuddle close. This was all fine and dandy until Paimon entered the room. “Aether! We’re out of sticky honey roast!!!” She mentioned, practically yelling. You let out a tired and confused mumble, being awoken by the yelling. Aether gently hushed you, and covered your ears. “Paimon, if you don’t shut up right now..I will tell Xianling to turn you into emergency food. That is a threat.” He said, his tone tired but harsh. Paimon squeaked and quickly left. You were both undisturbed for the rest of the night.
They fall asleep on you
Aether entered your home, and he seemed distraught. He explained everything that happened with his sister, and sobbed into your arms. You were worried, and let him cry it out. You noticed Paimon was no-where to be seem and assumed he’d asked to be alone. It took awhile, but his breathing slowed and he’d..well he’d cried himself to sleep. You were just glad he was mostly uninjured, gently stroked his hair, hoping to keeo him asleep. It worked, as he slept throught the night fully.
You fall asleep on them
You had spent the day at the balcony of Wangshu Inn, waiting for you adepti boyfriend. It had been a slow day, but you hadn’t slept much and were tired. This didn’t stop you from offering a bright smile as your beloved appeared. You both talked about what things you’d seen recently, and as always he was a bit shy. You wished you could’ve told him that you were tired, but you didn’t want to waste what time you had with Xiao. It was well into the evening when you felt your tiredness kick in, and you fell asleep, against him. It surprised the Adeptus, and before either of you knew it, he vanished. You woke up instantly, and looked around for him. You sighed with a bit of disappointment, you wanted to apologise, and weren’t sure how.
They fall asleep on you
It was days later he made an appearance again, you rushed over to him, apologising on repeat. Xiao softly hushed you, guilt in his eyes. He’d spoken to Verr Goldet, and she’d told him the best course of action. He’d let you hold him, and both of you eventually drifted off, he apologised again in the morning. You’d already forgiven him. Plus, the fact he’d let you get so close and even hold him in his sleep was proof he trusted you.
You fall asleep on them
It was an agreed date, you could rest and he would read. Plus, you’d be in each other’s company, which was great for the both of you. Xingqiu let you rest against him as he read, encouraging you to get the sleep you needed. You were a bit suspicious, assuming this would be some prank, but trusted him anyway. That proved to be a mistake, as when you awoke and walked back, you recieved odd looks. You didn’t understand until you got to your mirror, and saw the small doodles he’d drawn on your face. You were embarrassed, heavily. You swore to get your revenge.
They fall asleep on you
Xingqiu entered your home, it was a long day for him. All he really wanted was just to cuddle you and go to bed. You offered a sweet smile, scooching over and letting him lay next to you. After he fell asleep, you wondered on your revenge. It seemed fate had other plans as you fell asleep as well. When he woke up first, he’d expected you to have gotten some form of revenge, but noticing nothing had changed, he did feel a bit bad. When you awoke, he apologised and promised to let you rest normally next time. And when that time came, he kept his word. He didn’t want to upset you too badly, after all he was always big on chivalry.
You fall asleep on them
Zhongli spoke of more stories, history and the like, you normally loved listening to him and were always interested, but you’d stayed up a bit too late and were tired. You sat on his lap, as he told another one of the things that had happened in his long life. He noticed you fell asleep when your usual questions never came. He chuckled softly, kissing your forehead. He carried you to bed, and tucked you in. The archon though for a moment, before deciding to join you.
They fall asleep on you
The atmosphere was relaxed, and Zhongli wrapped his arms around you. You smiled, leaning against his chest. He rested his head on top of yours, and shuts his eyes. He didn’t mean to fall asleep, but he did. You didn’t mind, and let the archon rest. If anything, you were glad to be getting so much rest with him, something told you that others weren’t so lucky.
You fall asleep on them.
It was rare moments you were able to rest with the harbinger, but you never took them for granted. You would clear your schedule when he was free, knowing Scaramouche was a busy person. The one thing you couldn’t change was your energy levels, and you were exhausted. The past week you’d done nothing but work, and rarely slept. But when he notified you he was free, you rushed over. You’d managed to hide your sleepiness so far, knowing how against physical affection he was. But your eyes grew heavy, and you dropped against him. He froze up for a moment, before shoving you off. He hadn’t even registered you were exhausted nor that you had fallen asleep. You blinked, staring at him befofe muttering a small apology and that you had to go, not wanting to bother him. He realised he messed up, and hoped to be able to let you forgive him.
They fall asleep on you
It was another time you were both thankfully free, and he had asked to meet at your place. You had nervously agreed. Upon entering, the first thing he did was apologise, which was a surprise in itself. Then after the small bit you talked, you noticed he seemed tired. He had mentioned he wanted to make it up to you...You moved closer, which confused the harbinger, before you wrapped your arms around him. He was about to protest, before you reminded him of what he had said. He nodded, with a sigh...but he had to admit, he was comfortable..and maybe this wasn’t so bad. His eyes eventually closed, and he had guessed you would shove him off like he’d done to you..but all you did was offer a smile, holding your boyfriend closer, before falling asleep yourself.
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